commit 3e0fdf5fd74664e2c852ffdafbfa2e2e8bbc1388 Author: DarkCat09 Date: Sun Sep 15 18:27:08 2024 +0400 sample HTMLs in a separate commit diff --git a/html/10mb.html b/html/10mb.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eab3f59 --- /dev/null +++ b/html/10mb.html @@ -0,0 +1,365886 @@ + +Romeo and Juliet +Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +Two households, both alike in dignity, +In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; +Whole misadventured piteous overthrows +Do with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. + +SCENE I. Verona. A public place. + +Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers +SAMPSON +Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY +No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON +I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY +Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + +SAMPSON +I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY +But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON +A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY +To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: +therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + +SAMPSON +A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will +take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY +That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes +to the wall. + +SAMPSON +True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, +are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids +to the wall. + +GREGORY +The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + +SAMPSON +'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I +have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the +maids, and cut off their heads. + +GREGORY +The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON +Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; +take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY +They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON +Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and +'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY +'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes +two of the house of the Montagues. + +SAMPSON +My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + +GREGORY +How! turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON +Fear me not. + +GREGORY +No, marry; I fear thee! + +SAMPSON +Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + +GREGORY +I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as +they list. + +SAMPSON +Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; +which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + +Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say +ay? + +GREGORY +No. + +SAMPSON +No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I +bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY +Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAHAM +Quarrel sir! no, sir. + +SAMPSON +If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. + +ABRAHAM +No better. + +SAMPSON +Well, sir. + +GREGORY +Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON +Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAHAM +You lie. + +SAMPSON +Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. + +They fight + +Enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +Part, fools! +Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + +Beats down their swords + +Enter TYBALT + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: +Have at thee, coward! + +They fight + +Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs + +First Citizen +Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + +Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + +CAPULET +My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + +Enter PRINCE, with Attendants + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- +Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins, +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partisans, in hands as old, +Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time, all the rest depart away: +You Capulet; shall go along with me: +And, Montague, come you this afternoon, +To know our further pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO + +MONTAGUE +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: +I drew to part them: in the instant came +The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; +Where, underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from the city's side, +So early walking did I see your son: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood: +I, measuring his affections by my own, +That most are busied when they're most alone, +Pursued my humour not pursuing his, +And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the furthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from the light steals home my heavy son, +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out +And makes himself an artificial night: +Black and portentous must this humour prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends: +But he, his own affections' counsellor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true-- +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm, +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, +Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; +I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + +Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +BENVOLIO +Good-morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO +Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO +Ay me! sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO +In love? + +ROMEO +Out-- + +BENVOLIO +Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favour, where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! +O any thing, of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness! serious vanity! +Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, +sick health! +Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO +No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +BENVOLIO +At thy good heart's oppression. + +ROMEO +Why, such is love's transgression. +Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest +With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown +Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. +Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; +Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; +Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: +What is it else? a madness most discreet, +A choking gall and a preserving sweet. +Farewell, my coz. + +BENVOLIO +Soft! I will go along; +An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + +ROMEO +Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; +This is not Romeo, he's some other where. + +BENVOLIO +Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. + +ROMEO +What, shall I groan and tell thee? + +BENVOLIO +Groan! why, no. +But sadly tell me who. + +ROMEO +Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: +Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! +In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + +BENVOLIO +I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. + +ROMEO +A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. + +BENVOLIO +A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + +ROMEO +Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit +With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; +And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, +From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. +She will not stay the siege of loving terms, +Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, +Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: +O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, +That when she dies with beauty dies her store. + +BENVOLIO +Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + +ROMEO +She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, +For beauty starved with her severity +Cuts beauty off from all posterity. +She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, +To merit bliss by making me despair: +She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow +Do I live dead that live to tell it now. + +BENVOLIO +Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. + +ROMEO +O, teach me how I should forget to think. + +BENVOLIO +By giving liberty unto thine eyes; +Examine other beauties. + +ROMEO +'Tis the way +To call hers exquisite, in question more: +These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows +Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; +He that is strucken blind cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: +Show me a mistress that is passing fair, +What doth her beauty serve, but as a note +Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? +Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. + +BENVOLIO +I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant +CAPULET +But Montague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, +For men so old as we to keep the peace. + +PARIS +Of honourable reckoning are you both; +And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. +But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? + +CAPULET +But saying o'er what I have said before: +My child is yet a stranger in the world; +She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, +Let two more summers wither in their pride, +Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. + +PARIS +Younger than she are happy mothers made. + +CAPULET +And too soon marr'd are those so early made. +The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, +She is the hopeful lady of my earth: +But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, +My will to her consent is but a part; +An she agree, within her scope of choice +Lies my consent and fair according voice. +This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, +Whereto I have invited many a guest, +Such as I love; and you, among the store, +One more, most welcome, makes my number more. +At my poor house look to behold this night +Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: +Such comfort as do lusty young men feel +When well-apparell'd April on the heel +Of limping winter treads, even such delight +Among fresh female buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, +And like her most whose merit most shall be: +Which on more view, of many mine being one +May stand in number, though in reckoning none, +Come, go with me. + +To Servant, giving a paper + +Go, sirrah, trudge about +Through fair Verona; find those persons out +Whose names are written there, and to them say, +My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. + +Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS + +Servant +Find them out whose names are written here! It is +written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his +yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with +his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am +sent to find those persons whose names are here +writ, and can never find what names the writing +person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. + +Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, +One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; +Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; +One desperate grief cures with another's languish: +Take thou some new infection to thy eye, +And the rank poison of the old will die. + +ROMEO +Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. + +BENVOLIO +For what, I pray thee? + +ROMEO +For your broken shin. + +BENVOLIO +Why, Romeo, art thou mad? + +ROMEO +Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; +Shut up in prison, kept without my food, +Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. + +Servant +God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? + +ROMEO +Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. + +Servant +Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I +pray, can you read any thing you see? + +ROMEO +Ay, if I know the letters and the language. + +Servant +Ye say honestly: rest you merry! + +ROMEO +Stay, fellow; I can read. + +Reads + +'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; +County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady +widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely +nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine +uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece +Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin +Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair +assembly: whither should they come? + +Servant +Up. + +ROMEO +Whither? + +Servant +To supper; to our house. + +ROMEO +Whose house? + +Servant +My master's. + +ROMEO +Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. + +Servant +Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the +great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house +of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. +Rest you merry! + +Exit + +BENVOLIO +At this same ancient feast of Capulet's +Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, +With all the admired beauties of Verona: +Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. + +ROMEO +When the devout religion of mine eye +Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; +And these, who often drown'd could never die, +Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! +One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun +Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. + +BENVOLIO +Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, +Herself poised with herself in either eye: +But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd +Your lady's love against some other maid +That I will show you shining at this feast, +And she shall scant show well that now shows best. + +ROMEO +I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, +But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. + +Nurse +Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, +I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! +God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! + +Enter JULIET + +JULIET +How now! who calls? + +Nurse +Your mother. + +JULIET +Madam, I am here. +What is your will? + +LADY CAPULET +This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, +We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; +I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. +Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. + +Nurse +Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. + +LADY CAPULET +She's not fourteen. + +Nurse +I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- +And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- +She is not fourteen. How long is it now +To Lammas-tide? + +LADY CAPULET +A fortnight and odd days. + +Nurse +Even or odd, of all days in the year, +Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. +Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- +Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; +She was too good for me: but, as I said, +On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; +That shall she, marry; I remember it well. +'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; +And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- +Of all the days of the year, upon that day: +For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, +Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; +My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- +Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, +When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple +Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, +To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! +Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, +To bid me trudge: +And since that time it is eleven years; +For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, +She could have run and waddled all about; +For even the day before, she broke her brow: +And then my husband--God be with his soul! +A' was a merry man--took up the child: +'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, +The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' +To see, now, how a jest shall come about! +I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, +I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; +And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +LADY CAPULET +Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. + +Nurse +Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, +To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' +And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow +A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; +A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: +'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +JULIET +And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. + +Nurse +Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! +Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: +An I might live to see thee married once, +I have my wish. + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme +I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, +How stands your disposition to be married? + +JULIET +It is an honour that I dream not of. + +Nurse +An honour! were not I thine only nurse, +I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, +Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, +Are made already mothers: by my count, +I was your mother much upon these years +That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: +The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. + +Nurse +A man, young lady! lady, such a man +As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. + +LADY CAPULET +Verona's summer hath not such a flower. + +Nurse +Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. + +LADY CAPULET +What say you? can you love the gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our feast; +Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, +And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; +Examine every married lineament, +And see how one another lends content +And what obscured in this fair volume lies +Find written in the margent of his eyes. +This precious book of love, this unbound lover, +To beautify him, only lacks a cover: +The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride +For fair without the fair within to hide: +That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, +That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; +So shall you share all that he doth possess, +By having him, making yourself no less. + +Nurse +No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. + +LADY CAPULET +Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? + +JULIET +I'll look to like, if looking liking move: +But no more deep will I endart mine eye +Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you +called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in +the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must +hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. + +LADY CAPULET +We follow thee. + +Exit Servant + +Juliet, the county stays. + +Nurse +Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others +ROMEO +What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without a apology? + +BENVOLIO +The date is out of such prolixity: +We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, +Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, +Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; +Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke +After the prompter, for our entrance: +But let them measure us by what they will; +We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. + +ROMEO +Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; +Being but heavy, I will bear the light. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. + +ROMEO +Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes +With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead +So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. + +MERCUTIO +You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, +And soar with them above a common bound. + +ROMEO +I am too sore enpierced with his shaft +To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, +I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: +Under love's heavy burden do I sink. + +MERCUTIO +And, to sink in it, should you burden love; +Too great oppression for a tender thing. + +ROMEO +Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, +Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. + +MERCUTIO +If love be rough with you, be rough with love; +Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. +Give me a case to put my visage in: +A visor for a visor! what care I +What curious eye doth quote deformities? +Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. + +BENVOLIO +Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in, +But every man betake him to his legs. + +ROMEO +A torch for me: let wantons light of heart +Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, +For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase; +I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. +The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. + +MERCUTIO +Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: +If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire +Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st +Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! + +ROMEO +Nay, that's not so. + +MERCUTIO +I mean, sir, in delay +We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. +Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits +Five times in that ere once in our five wits. + +ROMEO +And we mean well in going to this mask; +But 'tis no wit to go. + +MERCUTIO +Why, may one ask? + +ROMEO +I dream'd a dream to-night. + +MERCUTIO +And so did I. + +ROMEO +Well, what was yours? + +MERCUTIO +That dreamers often lie. + +ROMEO +In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. + +MERCUTIO +O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. +She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes +In shape no bigger than an agate-stone +On the fore-finger of an alderman, +Drawn with a team of little atomies +Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; +Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, +The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, +The traces of the smallest spider's web, +The collars of the moonshine's watery beams, +Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, +Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, +Not so big as a round little worm +Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; +Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut +Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, +Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. +And in this state she gallops night by night +Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; +O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight, +O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, +O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, +Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, +Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: +Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, +And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; +And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail +Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, +Then dreams, he of another benefice: +Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, +And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, +Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, +Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon +Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, +And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two +And sleeps again. This is that very Mab +That plats the manes of horses in the night, +And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, +Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: +This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, +That presses them and learns them first to bear, +Making them women of good carriage: +This is she-- + +ROMEO +Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! +Thou talk'st of nothing. + +MERCUTIO +True, I talk of dreams, +Which are the children of an idle brain, +Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, +Which is as thin of substance as the air +And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes +Even now the frozen bosom of the north, +And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, +Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. + +BENVOLIO +This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; +Supper is done, and we shall come too late. + +ROMEO +I fear, too early: for my mind misgives +Some consequence yet hanging in the stars +Shall bitterly begin his fearful date +With this night's revels and expire the term +Of a despised life closed in my breast +By some vile forfeit of untimely death. +But He, that hath the steerage of my course, +Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. + +BENVOLIO +Strike, drum. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house. + +Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins +First Servant +Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He +shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! + +Second Servant +When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's +hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. + +First Servant +Away with the joint-stools, remove the +court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save +me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let +the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. +Antony, and Potpan! + +Second Servant +Ay, boy, ready. + +First Servant +You are looked for and called for, asked for and +sought for, in the great chamber. + +Second Servant +We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be +brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. + +Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers + +CAPULET +Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes +Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. +Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all +Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, +She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? +Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day +That I have worn a visor and could tell +A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, +Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: +You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. +A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. + +Music plays, and they dance + +More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, +And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. +Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. +Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; +For you and I are past our dancing days: +How long is't now since last yourself and I +Were in a mask? + +Second Capulet +By'r lady, thirty years. + +CAPULET +What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: +'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, +Come pentecost as quickly as it will, +Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. + +Second Capulet +'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir; +His son is thirty. + +CAPULET +Will you tell me that? +His son was but a ward two years ago. + +ROMEO +[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth +enrich the hand +Of yonder knight? + +Servant +I know not, sir. + +ROMEO +O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! +It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night +Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; +Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! +So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, +As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. +The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, +And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! +For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. + +TYBALT +This, by his voice, should be a Montague. +Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave +Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, +To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? +Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, +To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin. + +CAPULET +Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? + +TYBALT +Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, +A villain that is hither come in spite, +To scorn at our solemnity this night. + +CAPULET +Young Romeo is it? + +TYBALT +'Tis he, that villain Romeo. + +CAPULET +Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; +He bears him like a portly gentleman; +And, to say truth, Verona brags of him +To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: +I would not for the wealth of all the town +Here in my house do him disparagement: +Therefore be patient, take no note of him: +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, +And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. + +TYBALT +It fits, when such a villain is a guest: +I'll not endure him. + +CAPULET +He shall be endured: +What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; +Am I the master here, or you? go to. +You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! +You'll make a mutiny among my guests! +You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! + +TYBALT +Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. + +CAPULET +Go to, go to; +You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed? +This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: +You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. +Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: +Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! +I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! + +TYBALT +Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. +I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall +Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. + +Exit + +ROMEO +[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand +This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: +My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand +To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. + +JULIET +Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, +Which mannerly devotion shows in this; +For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, +And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. + +ROMEO +Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? + +JULIET +Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. + +ROMEO +O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; +They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. + +JULIET +Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. + +ROMEO +Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. +Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. + +JULIET +Then have my lips the sin that they have took. + +ROMEO +Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! +Give me my sin again. + +JULIET +You kiss by the book. + +Nurse +Madam, your mother craves a word with you. + +ROMEO +What is her mother? + +Nurse +Marry, bachelor, +Her mother is the lady of the house, +And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous +I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal; +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her +Shall have the chinks. + +ROMEO +Is she a Capulet? +O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. + +BENVOLIO +Away, begone; the sport is at the best. + +ROMEO +Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. + +CAPULET +Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; +We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. +Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all +I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. +More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. +Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late: +I'll to my rest. + +Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse + +JULIET +Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? + +Nurse +The son and heir of old Tiberio. + +JULIET +What's he that now is going out of door? + +Nurse +Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. + +JULIET +What's he that follows there, that would not dance? + +Nurse +I know not. + +JULIET +Go ask his name: if he be married. +My grave is like to be my wedding bed. + +Nurse +His name is Romeo, and a Montague; +The only son of your great enemy. + +JULIET +My only love sprung from my only hate! +Too early seen unknown, and known too late! +Prodigious birth of love it is to me, +That I must love a loathed enemy. + +Nurse +What's this? what's this? + +JULIET +A rhyme I learn'd even now +Of one I danced withal. + +One calls within 'Juliet.' + +Nurse +Anon, anon! +Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, +And young affection gapes to be his heir; +That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, +With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. +Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, +Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, +But to his foe supposed he must complain, +And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: +Being held a foe, he may not have access +To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; +And she as much in love, her means much less +To meet her new-beloved any where: +But passion lends them power, time means, to meet +Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. + +Exit + +SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +Can I go forward when my heart is here? +Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. + +He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO + +BENVOLIO +Romeo! my cousin Romeo! + +MERCUTIO +He is wise; +And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. + +BENVOLIO +He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: +Call, good Mercutio. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I'll conjure too. +Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! +Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: +Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; +Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' +Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, +One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, +Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, +When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; +The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. +I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, +By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, +By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh +And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, +That in thy likeness thou appear to us! + +BENVOLIO +And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. + +MERCUTIO +This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him +To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle +Of some strange nature, letting it there stand +Till she had laid it and conjured it down; +That were some spite: my invocation +Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name +I conjure only but to raise up him. + +BENVOLIO +Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, +To be consorted with the humorous night: +Blind is his love and best befits the dark. + +MERCUTIO +If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. +Now will he sit under a medlar tree, +And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit +As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. +Romeo, that she were, O, that she were +An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! +Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; +This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: +Come, shall we go? + +BENVOLIO +Go, then; for 'tis in vain +To seek him here that means not to be found. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +He jests at scars that never felt a wound. + +JULIET appears above at a window + +But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. +Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, +Who is already sick and pale with grief, +That thou her maid art far more fair than she: +Be not her maid, since she is envious; +Her vestal livery is but sick and green +And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. +It is my lady, O, it is my love! +O, that she knew she were! +She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? +Her eye discourses; I will answer it. +I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: +Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, +Having some business, do entreat her eyes +To twinkle in their spheres till they return. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head? +The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, +As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven +Would through the airy region stream so bright +That birds would sing and think it were not night. +See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! +O, that I were a glove upon that hand, +That I might touch that cheek! + +JULIET +Ay me! + +ROMEO +She speaks: +O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art +As glorious to this night, being o'er my head +As is a winged messenger of heaven +Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes +Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him +When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds +And sails upon the bosom of the air. + +JULIET +O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? +Deny thy father and refuse thy name; +Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, +And I'll no longer be a Capulet. + +ROMEO +[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? + +JULIET +'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; +Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. +What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, +Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part +Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! +What's in a name? that which we call a rose +By any other name would smell as sweet; +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, +Retain that dear perfection which he owes +Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, +And for that name which is no part of thee +Take all myself. + +ROMEO +I take thee at thy word: +Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; +Henceforth I never will be Romeo. + +JULIET +What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night +So stumblest on my counsel? + +ROMEO +By a name +I know not how to tell thee who I am: +My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, +Because it is an enemy to thee; +Had I it written, I would tear the word. + +JULIET +My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words +Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: +Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? + +ROMEO +Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. + +JULIET +How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? +The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here. + +ROMEO +With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; +For stony limits cannot hold love out, +And what love can do that dares love attempt; +Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. + +JULIET +If they do see thee, they will murder thee. + +ROMEO +Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye +Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, +And I am proof against their enmity. + +JULIET +I would not for the world they saw thee here. + +ROMEO +I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; +And but thou love me, let them find me here: +My life were better ended by their hate, +Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. + +JULIET +By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + +ROMEO +By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; +He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. +I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far +As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, +I would adventure for such merchandise. + +JULIET +Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, +Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek +For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night +Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny +What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! +Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' +And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, +Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries +Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, +If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: +Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, +I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, +So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. +In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, +And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: +But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true +Than those that have more cunning to be strange. +I should have been more strange, I must confess, +But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, +My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yielding to light love, +Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +ROMEO +Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear +That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- + +JULIET +O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, +That monthly changes in her circled orb, +Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. + +ROMEO +What shall I swear by? + +JULIET +Do not swear at all; +Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, +Which is the god of my idolatry, +And I'll believe thee. + +ROMEO +If my heart's dear love-- + +JULIET +Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, +I have no joy of this contract to-night: +It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; +Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be +Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! +This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, +May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. +Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest +Come to thy heart as that within my breast! + +ROMEO +O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? + +JULIET +What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? + +ROMEO +The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. + +JULIET +I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: +And yet I would it were to give again. + +ROMEO +Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? + +JULIET +But to be frank, and give it thee again. +And yet I wish but for the thing I have: +My bounty is as boundless as the sea, +My love as deep; the more I give to thee, +The more I have, for both are infinite. + +Nurse calls within + +I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! +Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. +Stay but a little, I will come again. + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. +Being in night, all this is but a dream, +Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. +If that thy bent of love be honourable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, +By one that I'll procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; +And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay +And follow thee my lord throughout the world. + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, +I do beseech thee-- + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +By and by, I come:-- +To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: +To-morrow will I send. + +ROMEO +So thrive my soul-- + +JULIET +A thousand times good night! + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. +Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from +their books, +But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. + +Retiring + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, +To lure this tassel-gentle back again! +Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; +Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, +And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, +With repetition of my Romeo's name. + +ROMEO +It is my soul that calls upon my name: +How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, +Like softest music to attending ears! + +JULIET +Romeo! + +ROMEO +My dear? + +JULIET +At what o'clock to-morrow +Shall I send to thee? + +ROMEO +At the hour of nine. + +JULIET +I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. +I have forgot why I did call thee back. + +ROMEO +Let me stand here till thou remember it. + +JULIET +I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, +Remembering how I love thy company. + +ROMEO +And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this. + +JULIET +'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: +And yet no further than a wanton's bird; +Who lets it hop a little from her hand, +Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, +And with a silk thread plucks it back again, +So loving-jealous of his liberty. + +ROMEO +I would I were thy bird. + +JULIET +Sweet, so would I: +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. +Good night, good night! parting is such +sweet sorrow, +That I shall say good night till it be morrow. + +Exit above + +ROMEO +Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! +Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! +Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, +His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket +FRIAR LAURENCE +The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, +Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, +And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels +From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: +Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, +The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, +I must up-fill this osier cage of ours +With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. +The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; +What is her burying grave that is her womb, +And from her womb children of divers kind +We sucking on her natural bosom find, +Many for many virtues excellent, +None but for some and yet all different. +O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies +In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: +For nought so vile that on the earth doth live +But to the earth some special good doth give, +Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use +Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: +Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; +And vice sometimes by action dignified. +Within the infant rind of this small flower +Poison hath residence and medicine power: +For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; +Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. +Two such opposed kings encamp them still +In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Good morrow, father. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Benedicite! +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young son, it argues a distemper'd head +So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: +Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, +And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; +But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain +Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: +Therefore thy earliness doth me assure +Thou art up-roused by some distemperature; +Or if not so, then here I hit it right, +Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. + +ROMEO +That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? + +ROMEO +With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; +I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? + +ROMEO +I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. +I have been feasting with mine enemy, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, +That's by me wounded: both our remedies +Within thy help and holy physic lies: +I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, +My intercession likewise steads my foe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; +Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. + +ROMEO +Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set +On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; +And all combined, save what thou must combine +By holy marriage: when and where and how +We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, +I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, +That thou consent to marry us to-day. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! +Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, +So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies +Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine +Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! +How much salt water thrown away in waste, +To season love, that of it doth not taste! +The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, +Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; +Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit +Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: +If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, +Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: +And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, +Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. + +ROMEO +Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. + +ROMEO +And bad'st me bury love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Not in a grave, +To lay one in, another out to have. + +ROMEO +I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now +Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; +The other did not so. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, she knew well +Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. +But come, young waverer, come, go with me, +In one respect I'll thy assistant be; +For this alliance may so happy prove, +To turn your households' rancour to pure love. + +ROMEO +O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO +MERCUTIO +Where the devil should this Romeo be? +Came he not home to-night? + +BENVOLIO +Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. + +MERCUTIO +Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. +Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, +Hath sent a letter to his father's house. + +MERCUTIO +A challenge, on my life. + +BENVOLIO +Romeo will answer it. + +MERCUTIO +Any man that can write may answer a letter. + +BENVOLIO +Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he +dares, being dared. + +MERCUTIO +Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a +white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a +love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the +blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to +encounter Tybalt? + +BENVOLIO +Why, what is Tybalt? + +MERCUTIO +More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is +the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as +you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and +proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and +the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk +button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the +very first house, of the first and second cause: +ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the +hai! + +BENVOLIO +The what? + +MERCUTIO +The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting +fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, +a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good +whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, +grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with +these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these +perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, +that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their +bones, their bones! + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. + +MERCUTIO +Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, +how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers +that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a +kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to +be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; +Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey +eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior +Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation +to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit +fairly last night. + +ROMEO +Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? + +MERCUTIO +The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? + +ROMEO +Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in +such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. + +MERCUTIO +That's as much as to say, such a case as yours +constrains a man to bow in the hams. + +ROMEO +Meaning, to court'sy. + +MERCUTIO +Thou hast most kindly hit it. + +ROMEO +A most courteous exposition. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. + +ROMEO +Pink for flower. + +MERCUTIO +Right. + +ROMEO +Why, then is my pump well flowered. + +MERCUTIO +Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast +worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it +is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. + +ROMEO +O single-soled jest, solely singular for the +singleness. + +MERCUTIO +Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. + +ROMEO +Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have +done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of +thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: +was I with you there for the goose? + +ROMEO +Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast +not there for the goose. + +MERCUTIO +I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. + +ROMEO +Nay, good goose, bite not. + +MERCUTIO +Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most +sharp sauce. + +ROMEO +And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? + +MERCUTIO +O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an +inch narrow to an ell broad! + +ROMEO +I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added +to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. + +MERCUTIO +Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? +now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art +thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: +for this drivelling love is like a great natural, +that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. + +BENVOLIO +Stop there, stop there. + +MERCUTIO +Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. + +BENVOLIO +Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. + +MERCUTIO +O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: +for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and +meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. + +ROMEO +Here's goodly gear! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +MERCUTIO +A sail, a sail! + +BENVOLIO +Two, two; a shirt and a smock. + +Nurse +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +My fan, Peter. + +MERCUTIO +Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the +fairer face. + +Nurse +God ye good morrow, gentlemen. + +MERCUTIO +God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. + +Nurse +Is it good den? + +MERCUTIO +'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the +dial is now upon the prick of noon. + +Nurse +Out upon you! what a man are you! + +ROMEO +One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to +mar. + +Nurse +By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' +quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I +may find the young Romeo? + +ROMEO +I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when +you have found him than he was when you sought him: +I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. + +Nurse +You say well. + +MERCUTIO +Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; +wisely, wisely. + +Nurse +if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with +you. + +BENVOLIO +She will indite him to some supper. + +MERCUTIO +A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! + +ROMEO +What hast thou found? + +MERCUTIO +No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, +that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. + +Sings + +An old hare hoar, +And an old hare hoar, +Is very good meat in lent +But a hare that is hoar +Is too much for a score, +When it hoars ere it be spent. +Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll +to dinner, thither. + +ROMEO +I will follow you. + +MERCUTIO +Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, + +Singing + +'lady, lady, lady.' + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +Nurse +Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy +merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? + +ROMEO +A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, +and will speak more in a minute than he will stand +to in a month. + +Nurse +An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him +down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such +Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. +Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am +none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by +too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? + +PETER +I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon +should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare +draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a +good quarrel, and the law on my side. + +Nurse +Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about +me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: +and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you +out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: +but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into +a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross +kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman +is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double +with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered +to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. + +ROMEO +Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I +protest unto thee-- + +Nurse +Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: +Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. + +ROMEO +What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. + +Nurse +I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as +I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. + +ROMEO +Bid her devise +Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; +And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell +Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. + +Nurse +No truly sir; not a penny. + +ROMEO +Go to; I say you shall. + +Nurse +This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. + +ROMEO +And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: +Within this hour my man shall be with thee +And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; +Which to the high top-gallant of my joy +Must be my convoy in the secret night. +Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: +Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. + +Nurse +Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. + +ROMEO +What say'st thou, my dear nurse? + +Nurse +Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, +Two may keep counsel, putting one away? + +ROMEO +I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. + +NURSE +Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, +Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there +is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain +lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief +see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her +sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer +man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks +as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not +rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? + +ROMEO +Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. + +Nurse +Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for +the--No; I know it begins with some other +letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of +it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good +to hear it. + +ROMEO +Commend me to thy lady. + +Nurse +Ay, a thousand times. + +Exit Romeo + +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; +In half an hour she promised to return. +Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. +O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, +Driving back shadows over louring hills: +Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. +Now is the sun upon the highmost hill +Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve +Is three long hours, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warm youthful blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball; +My words would bandy her to my sweet love, +And his to me: +But old folks, many feign as they were dead; +Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. +O God, she comes! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +O honey nurse, what news? +Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. + +Nurse +Peter, stay at the gate. + +Exit PETER + +JULIET +Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? +Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; +If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news +By playing it to me with so sour a face. + +Nurse +I am a-weary, give me leave awhile: +Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! + +JULIET +I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: +Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. + +Nurse +Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + +JULIET +How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath +To say to me that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay +Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; +Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: +Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? + +Nurse +Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not +how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his +face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels +all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, +though they be not to be talked on, yet they are +past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, +but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy +ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home? + +JULIET +No, no: but all this did I know before. +What says he of our marriage? what of that? + +Nurse +Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! +It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. +My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back! +Beshrew your heart for sending me about, +To catch my death with jaunting up and down! + +JULIET +I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. +Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? + +Nurse +Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a +courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I +warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother? + +JULIET +Where is my mother! why, she is within; +Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! +'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, +Where is your mother?' + +Nurse +O God's lady dear! +Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; +Is this the poultice for my aching bones? +Henceforward do your messages yourself. + +JULIET +Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? + +Nurse +Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? + +JULIET +I have. + +Nurse +Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell; +There stays a husband to make you a wife: +Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, +They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. +Hie you to church; I must another way, +To fetch a ladder, by the which your love +Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: +I am the drudge and toil in your delight, +But you shall bear the burden soon at night. +Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. + +JULIET +Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO +FRIAR LAURENCE +So smile the heavens upon this holy act, +That after hours with sorrow chide us not! + +ROMEO +Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, +It cannot countervail the exchange of joy +That one short minute gives me in her sight: +Do thou but close our hands with holy words, +Then love-devouring death do what he dare; +It is enough I may but call her mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +These violent delights have violent ends +And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, +Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his own deliciousness +And in the taste confounds the appetite: +Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; +Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. + +Enter JULIET + +Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot +Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: +A lover may bestride the gossamer +That idles in the wanton summer air, +And yet not fall; so light is vanity. + +JULIET +Good even to my ghostly confessor. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. + +JULIET +As much to him, else is his thanks too much. + +ROMEO +Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy +Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more +To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue +Unfold the imagined happiness that both +Receive in either by this dear encounter. + +JULIET +Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, +Brags of his substance, not of ornament: +They are but beggars that can count their worth; +But my true love is grown to such excess +I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, come with me, and we will make short work; +For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone +Till holy church incorporate two in one. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A public place. + +Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants +BENVOLIO +I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: +The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, +And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; +For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. + +MERCUTIO +Thou art like one of those fellows that when he +enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword +upon the table and says 'God send me no need of +thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws +it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. + +BENVOLIO +Am I like such a fellow? + +MERCUTIO +Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as +any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as +soon moody to be moved. + +BENVOLIO +And what to? + +MERCUTIO +Nay, an there were two such, we should have none +shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, +thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, +or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou +wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no +other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what +eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? +Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of +meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as +an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a +man for coughing in the street, because he hath +wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: +didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing +his new doublet before Easter? with another, for +tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou +wilt tutor me from quarrelling! + +BENVOLIO +An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man +should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. + +MERCUTIO +The fee-simple! O simple! + +BENVOLIO +By my head, here come the Capulets. + +MERCUTIO +By my heel, I care not. + +Enter TYBALT and others + +TYBALT +Follow me close, for I will speak to them. +Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. + +MERCUTIO +And but one word with one of us? couple it with +something; make it a word and a blow. + +TYBALT +You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you +will give me occasion. + +MERCUTIO +Could you not take some occasion without giving? + +TYBALT +Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- + +MERCUTIO +Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an +thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but +discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall +make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! + +BENVOLIO +We talk here in the public haunt of men: +Either withdraw unto some private place, +And reason coldly of your grievances, +Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. + +MERCUTIO +Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; +I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. + +Enter ROMEO + +TYBALT +Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man. + +MERCUTIO +But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: +Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; +Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' + +TYBALT +Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford +No better term than this,--thou art a villain. + +ROMEO +Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting: villain am I none; +Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not. + +TYBALT +Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries +That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw. + +ROMEO +I do protest, I never injured thee, +But love thee better than thou canst devise, +Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: +And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender +As dearly as my own,--be satisfied. + +MERCUTIO +O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! +Alla stoccata carries it away. + +Draws + +Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? + +TYBALT +What wouldst thou have with me? + +MERCUTIO +Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine +lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you +shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the +eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher +by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your +ears ere it be out. + +TYBALT +I am for you. + +Drawing + +ROMEO +Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. + +MERCUTIO +Come, sir, your passado. + +They fight + +ROMEO +Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. +Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! +Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath +Forbidden bandying in Verona streets: +Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! + +TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers + +MERCUTIO +I am hurt. +A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. +Is he gone, and hath nothing? + +BENVOLIO +What, art thou hurt? + +MERCUTIO +Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. +Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. + +Exit Page + +ROMEO +Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. + +MERCUTIO +No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for +me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I +am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' +both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a +cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a +rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of +arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I +was hurt under your arm. + +ROMEO +I thought all for the best. + +MERCUTIO +Help me into some house, Benvolio, +Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! +They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, +And soundly too: your houses! + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +ROMEO +This gentleman, the prince's near ally, +My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt +In my behalf; my reputation stain'd +With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour +Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, +Thy beauty hath made me effeminate +And in my temper soften'd valour's steel! + +Re-enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! +That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, +Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. + +ROMEO +This day's black fate on more days doth depend; +This but begins the woe, others must end. + +BENVOLIO +Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. + +ROMEO +Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! +Away to heaven, respective lenity, +And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! + +Re-enter TYBALT + +Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, +That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul +Is but a little way above our heads, +Staying for thine to keep him company: +Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. + +TYBALT +Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, +Shalt with him hence. + +ROMEO +This shall determine that. + +They fight; TYBALT falls + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, away, be gone! +The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. +Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, +If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! + +ROMEO +O, I am fortune's fool! + +BENVOLIO +Why dost thou stay? + +Exit ROMEO + +Enter Citizens, & c + +First Citizen +Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? +Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? + +BENVOLIO +There lies that Tybalt. + +First Citizen +Up, sir, go with me; +I charge thee in the princes name, obey. + +Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others + +PRINCE +Where are the vile beginners of this fray? + +BENVOLIO +O noble prince, I can discover all +The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: +There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. + +LADY CAPULET +Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! +O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt +O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, +For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. +O cousin, cousin! + +PRINCE +Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; +Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink +How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal +Your high displeasure: all this uttered +With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, +Could not take truce with the unruly spleen +Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts +With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, +And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats +Cold death aside, and with the other sends +It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, +Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, +'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than +his tongue, +His agile arm beats down their fatal points, +And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm +An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; +But by and by comes back to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, +And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I +Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. +And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. +This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. + +LADY CAPULET +He is a kinsman to the Montague; +Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: +Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; +Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. + +PRINCE +Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; +Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? + +MONTAGUE +Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; +His fault concludes but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt. + +PRINCE +And for that offence +Immediately we do exile him hence: +I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, +My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; +But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine +That you shall all repent the loss of mine: +I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; +Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: +Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, +Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. +Bear hence this body and attend our will: +Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, +Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner +As Phaethon would whip you to the west, +And bring in cloudy night immediately. +Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, +That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo +Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. +Lovers can see to do their amorous rites +By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, +It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, +Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, +And learn me how to lose a winning match, +Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: +Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, +With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, +Think true love acted simple modesty. +Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; +For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night +Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. +Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, +Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little stars, +And he will make the face of heaven so fine +That all the world will be in love with night +And pay no worship to the garish sun. +O, I have bought the mansion of a love, +But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold, +Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day +As is the night before some festival +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, +And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks +But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. + +Enter Nurse, with cords + +Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords +That Romeo bid thee fetch? + +Nurse +Ay, ay, the cords. + +Throws them down + +JULIET +Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? + +Nurse +Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! +We are undone, lady, we are undone! +Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! + +JULIET +Can heaven be so envious? + +Nurse +Romeo can, +Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo! +Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! + +JULIET +What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. +Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,' +And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more +Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: +I am not I, if there be such an I; +Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' +If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no: +Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. + +Nurse +I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-- +God save the mark!--here on his manly breast: +A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, +All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight. + +JULIET +O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! +To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! +Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here; +And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! + +Nurse +O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! +O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! +That ever I should live to see thee dead! + +JULIET +What storm is this that blows so contrary? +Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? +My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? +Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! +For who is living, if those two are gone? + +Nurse +Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; +Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. + +JULIET +O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? + +Nurse +It did, it did; alas the day, it did! + +JULIET +O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! +Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? +Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! +Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! +Despised substance of divinest show! +Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, +A damned saint, an honourable villain! +O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, +When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend +In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was ever book containing such vile matter +So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous palace! + +Nurse +There's no trust, +No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, +All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. +Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: +These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. +Shame come to Romeo! + +JULIET +Blister'd be thy tongue +For such a wish! he was not born to shame: +Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; +For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd +Sole monarch of the universal earth. +O, what a beast was I to chide at him! + +Nurse +Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? + +JULIET +Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? +Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, +When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? +But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? +That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: +Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; +Your tributary drops belong to woe, +Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. +My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; +And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: +All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? +Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, +That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; +But, O, it presses to my memory, +Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: +'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;' +That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' +Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death +Was woe enough, if it had ended there: +Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship +And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, +Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' +Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, +Which modern lamentations might have moved? +But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, +'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word, +Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, +All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!' +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. +Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? + +Nurse +Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse: +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. + +JULIET +Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, +When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. +Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, +Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: +He made you for a highway to my bed; +But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. +Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed; +And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! + +Nurse +Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo +To comfort you: I wot well where he is. +Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: +I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. + +JULIET +O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, +And bid him come to take his last farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: +Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, +And thou art wedded to calamity. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? +What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, +That I yet know not? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Too familiar +Is my dear son with such sour company: +I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. + +ROMEO +What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, +Not body's death, but body's banishment. + +ROMEO +Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' +For exile hath more terror in his look, +Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hence from Verona art thou banished: +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. + +ROMEO +There is no world without Verona walls, +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, +And world's exile is death: then banished, +Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, +Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, +And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! +Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, +Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, +And turn'd that black word death to banishment: +This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. + +ROMEO +'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, +Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog +And little mouse, every unworthy thing, +Live here in heaven and may look on her; +But Romeo may not: more validity, +More honourable state, more courtship lives +In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize +On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand +And steal immortal blessing from her lips, +Who even in pure and vestal modesty, +Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; +But Romeo may not; he is banished: +Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: +They are free men, but I am banished. +And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? +Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, +No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, +But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? +O friar, the damned use that word in hell; +Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, +Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, +A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, +To mangle me with that word 'banished'? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. + +ROMEO +O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: +Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished. + +ROMEO +Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! +Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, +Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, +It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, then I see that madmen have no ears. + +ROMEO +How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. + +ROMEO +Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: +Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, +An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me and like me banished, +Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, +And fall upon the ground, as I do now, +Taking the measure of an unmade grave. + +Knocking within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. + +ROMEO +Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, +Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. + +Knocking + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; +Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; + +Knocking + +Run to my study. By and by! God's will, +What simpleness is this! I come, I come! + +Knocking + +Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? + +Nurse +[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know +my errand; +I come from Lady Juliet. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Welcome, then. + +Enter Nurse + +Nurse +O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, +Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. + +Nurse +O, he is even in my mistress' case, +Just in her case! O woful sympathy! +Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, +Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. +Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: +For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; +Why should you fall into so deep an O? + +ROMEO +Nurse! + +Nurse +Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. + +ROMEO +Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? +Doth she not think me an old murderer, +Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy +With blood removed but little from her own? +Where is she? and how doth she? and what says +My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? + +Nurse +O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; +And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, +And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, +And then down falls again. + +ROMEO +As if that name, +Shot from the deadly level of a gun, +Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand +Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, +In what vile part of this anatomy +Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack +The hateful mansion. + +Drawing his sword + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold thy desperate hand: +Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: +Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote +The unreasonable fury of a beast: +Unseemly woman in a seeming man! +Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! +Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better temper'd. +Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? +And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, +By doing damned hate upon thyself? +Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? +Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet +In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. +Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; +Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, +And usest none in that true use indeed +Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: +Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, +Digressing from the valour of a man; +Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, +Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; +Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, +Misshapen in the conduct of them both, +Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, +Is set afire by thine own ignorance, +And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. +What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, +For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; +There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: +The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend +And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: +A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; +Happiness courts thee in her best array; +But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, +Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, +Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: +But look thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; +Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, +Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back +With twenty hundred thousand times more joy +Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. +Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: +Romeo is coming. + +Nurse +O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night +To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! +My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. + +ROMEO +Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. + +Nurse +Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: +Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. + +Exit + +ROMEO +How well my comfort is revived by this! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: +Either be gone before the watch be set, +Or by the break of day disguised from hence: +Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, +And he shall signify from time to time +Every good hap to you that chances here: +Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. + +ROMEO +But that a joy past joy calls out on me, +It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS +CAPULET +Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, +That we have had no time to move our daughter: +Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, +And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. +'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: +I promise you, but for your company, +I would have been a-bed an hour ago. + +PARIS +These times of woe afford no time to woo. +Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. + +LADY CAPULET +I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; +To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness. + +CAPULET +Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled +In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. +Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; +Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; +And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-- +But, soft! what day is this? + +PARIS +Monday, my lord, + +CAPULET +Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, +O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, +She shall be married to this noble earl. +Will you be ready? do you like this haste? +We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; +For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, +It may be thought we held him carelessly, +Being our kinsman, if we revel much: +Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + +PARIS +My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. + +CAPULET +Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then. +Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, +Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. +Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! +Afore me! it is so very very late, +That we may call it early by and by. +Good night. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window +JULIET +Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: +It was the nightingale, and not the lark, +That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; +Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: +Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. + +ROMEO +It was the lark, the herald of the morn, +No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks +Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: +Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day +Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. +I must be gone and live, or stay and die. + +JULIET +Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: +It is some meteor that the sun exhales, +To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, +And light thee on thy way to Mantua: +Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. + +ROMEO +Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; +I am content, so thou wilt have it so. +I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, +'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; +Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat +The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: +I have more care to stay than will to go: +Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. +How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. + +JULIET +It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! +It is the lark that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. +Some say the lark makes sweet division; +This doth not so, for she divideth us: +Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, +O, now I would they had changed voices too! +Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, +Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, +O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. + +ROMEO +More light and light; more dark and dark our woes! + +Enter Nurse, to the chamber + +Nurse +Madam! + +JULIET +Nurse? + +Nurse +Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: +The day is broke; be wary, look about. + +Exit + +JULIET +Then, window, let day in, and let life out. + +ROMEO +Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. + +He goeth down + +JULIET +Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! +I must hear from thee every day in the hour, +For in a minute there are many days: +O, by this count I shall be much in years +Ere I again behold my Romeo! + +ROMEO +Farewell! +I will omit no opportunity +That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + +JULIET +O think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + +ROMEO +I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve +For sweet discourses in our time to come. + +JULIET +O God, I have an ill-divining soul! +Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, +As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: +Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. + +ROMEO +And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: +Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! + +Exit + +JULIET +O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: +If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. +That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; +For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, +But send him back. + +LADY CAPULET +[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up? + +JULIET +Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? +Is she not down so late, or up so early? +What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +Why, how now, Juliet! + +JULIET +Madam, I am not well. + +LADY CAPULET +Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? +What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? +An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; +Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; +But much of grief shows still some want of wit. + +JULIET +Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. + +LADY CAPULET +So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend +Which you weep for. + +JULIET +Feeling so the loss, +Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, +As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. + +JULIET +What villain madam? + +LADY CAPULET +That same villain, Romeo. + +JULIET +[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- +God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; +And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. + +LADY CAPULET +That is, because the traitor murderer lives. + +JULIET +Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: +Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! + +LADY CAPULET +We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: +Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, +Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, +That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: +And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. + +JULIET +Indeed, I never shall be satisfied +With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- +Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To bear a poison, I would temper it; +That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, +Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors +To hear him named, and cannot come to him. +To wreak the love I bore my cousin +Upon his body that slaughter'd him! + +LADY CAPULET +Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. +But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. + +JULIET +And joy comes well in such a needy time: +What are they, I beseech your ladyship? + +LADY CAPULET +Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; +One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, +That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for. + +JULIET +Madam, in happy time, what day is that? + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, +The gallant, young and noble gentleman, +The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, +Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. + +JULIET +Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a joyful bride. +I wonder at this haste; that I must wed +Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. +I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, +I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, +Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! + +LADY CAPULET +Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, +And see how he will take it at your hands. + +Enter CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; +But for the sunset of my brother's son +It rains downright. +How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? +Evermore showering? In one little body +Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; +For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, +Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, +Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; +Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, +Without a sudden calm, will overset +Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! +Have you deliver'd to her our decree? + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. +I would the fool were married to her grave! + +CAPULET +Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. +How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? +Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, +Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought +So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? + +JULIET +Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: +Proud can I never be of what I hate; +But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. + +CAPULET +How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? +'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' +And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, +Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, +To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, +Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. +Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! +You tallow-face! + +LADY CAPULET +Fie, fie! what, are you mad? + +JULIET +Good father, I beseech you on my knees, +Hear me with patience but to speak a word. + +CAPULET +Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! +I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, +Or never after look me in the face: +Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; +My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest +That God had lent us but this only child; +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we have a curse in having her: +Out on her, hilding! + +Nurse +God in heaven bless her! +You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. + +CAPULET +And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, +Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. + +Nurse +I speak no treason. + +CAPULET +O, God ye god-den. + +Nurse +May not one speak? + +CAPULET +Peace, you mumbling fool! +Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; +For here we need it not. + +LADY CAPULET +You are too hot. + +CAPULET +God's bread! it makes me mad: +Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, +Alone, in company, still my care hath been +To have her match'd: and having now provided +A gentleman of noble parentage, +Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, +Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, +Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; +And then to have a wretched puling fool, +A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, +To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, +I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' +But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: +Graze where you will you shall not house with me: +Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. +Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: +An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; +And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in +the streets, +For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: +Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. + +Exit + +JULIET +Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, +That sees into the bottom of my grief? +O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! +Delay this marriage for a month, a week; +Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed +In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. + +LADY CAPULET +Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: +Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. + +Exit + +JULIET +O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? +My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; +How shall that faith return again to earth, +Unless that husband send it me from heaven +By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. +Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems +Upon so soft a subject as myself! +What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? +Some comfort, nurse. + +Nurse +Faith, here it is. +Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, +That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; +Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, +I think it best you married with the county. +O, he's a lovely gentleman! +Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, +Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye +As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, +I think you are happy in this second match, +For it excels your first: or if it did not, +Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were, +As living here and you no use of him. + +JULIET +Speakest thou from thy heart? + +Nurse +And from my soul too; +Or else beshrew them both. + +JULIET +Amen! + +Nurse +What? + +JULIET +Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. +Go in: and tell my lady I am gone, +Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, +To make confession and to be absolved. + +Nurse +Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. + +Exit + +JULIET +Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! +Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, +Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue +Which she hath praised him with above compare +So many thousand times? Go, counsellor; +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. +I'll to the friar, to know his remedy: +If all else fail, myself have power to die. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS +FRIAR LAURENCE +On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. + +PARIS +My father Capulet will have it so; +And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +You say you do not know the lady's mind: +Uneven is the course, I like it not. + +PARIS +Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, +And therefore have I little talk'd of love; +For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. +Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous +That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, +And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, +To stop the inundation of her tears; +Which, too much minded by herself alone, +May be put from her by society: +Now do you know the reason of this haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. +Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. + +Enter JULIET + +PARIS +Happily met, my lady and my wife! + +JULIET +That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. + +PARIS +That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. + +JULIET +What must be shall be. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's a certain text. + +PARIS +Come you to make confession to this father? + +JULIET +To answer that, I should confess to you. + +PARIS +Do not deny to him that you love me. + +JULIET +I will confess to you that I love him. + +PARIS +So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. + +JULIET +If I do so, it will be of more price, +Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. + +PARIS +Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. + +JULIET +The tears have got small victory by that; +For it was bad enough before their spite. + +PARIS +Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. + +JULIET +That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; +And what I spake, I spake it to my face. + +PARIS +Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. + +JULIET +It may be so, for it is not mine own. +Are you at leisure, holy father, now; +Or shall I come to you at evening mass? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. +My lord, we must entreat the time alone. + +PARIS +God shield I should disturb devotion! +Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye: +Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. + +Exit + +JULIET +O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, +Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; +It strains me past the compass of my wits: +I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this county. + +JULIET +Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, +Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: +If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife I'll help it presently. +God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; +And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, +Shall be the label to another deed, +Or my true heart with treacherous revolt +Turn to another, this shall slay them both: +Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, +Give me some present counsel, or, behold, +'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife +Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that +Which the commission of thy years and art +Could to no issue of true honour bring. +Be not so long to speak; I long to die, +If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, +Which craves as desperate an execution. +As that is desperate which we would prevent. +If, rather than to marry County Paris, +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, +Then is it likely thou wilt undertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That copest with death himself to scape from it: +And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. + +JULIET +O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, +From off the battlements of yonder tower; +Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk +Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; +Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, +O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, +With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; +Or bid me go into a new-made grave +And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; +Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; +And I will do it without fear or doubt, +To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent +To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: +To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; +Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: +Take thou this vial, being then in bed, +And this distilled liquor drink thou off; +When presently through all thy veins shall run +A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse +Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: +No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; +The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade +To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, +Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; +Each part, deprived of supple government, +Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: +And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death +Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, +And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. +Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes +To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: +Then, as the manner of our country is, +In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. +In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come: and he and I +Will watch thy waking, and that very night +Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame; +If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear, +Abate thy valour in the acting it. + +JULIET +Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous +In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed +To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. + +JULIET +Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford. +Farewell, dear father! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen +CAPULET +So many guests invite as here are writ. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. + +Second Servant +You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they +can lick their fingers. + +CAPULET +How canst thou try them so? + +Second Servant +Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his +own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his +fingers goes not with me. + +CAPULET +Go, be gone. + +Exit Second Servant + +We shall be much unfurnished for this time. +What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? + +Nurse +Ay, forsooth. + +CAPULET +Well, he may chance to do some good on her: +A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. + +Nurse +See where she comes from shrift with merry look. + +Enter JULIET + +CAPULET +How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? + +JULIET +Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition +To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd +By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, +And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! +Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. + +CAPULET +Send for the county; go tell him of this: +I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. + +JULIET +I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; +And gave him what becomed love I might, +Not step o'er the bounds of modesty. + +CAPULET +Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up: +This is as't should be. Let me see the county; +Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. +Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar, +Our whole city is much bound to him. + +JULIET +Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, +To help me sort such needful ornaments +As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? + +LADY CAPULET +No, not till Thursday; there is time enough. + +CAPULET +Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow. + +Exeunt JULIET and Nurse + +LADY CAPULET +We shall be short in our provision: +'Tis now near night. + +CAPULET +Tush, I will stir about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife: +Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; +I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone; +I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! +They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself +To County Paris, to prepare him up +Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, +Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter JULIET and Nurse +JULIET +Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, +I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, +For I have need of many orisons +To move the heavens to smile upon my state, +Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin. + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What, are you busy, ho? need you my help? + +JULIET +No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries +As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: +So please you, let me now be left alone, +And let the nurse this night sit up with you; +For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, +In this so sudden business. + +LADY CAPULET +Good night: +Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +JULIET +Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. +I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, +That almost freezes up the heat of life: +I'll call them back again to comfort me: +Nurse! What should she do here? +My dismal scene I needs must act alone. +Come, vial. +What if this mixture do not work at all? +Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? +No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. + +Laying down her dagger + +What if it be a poison, which the friar +Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, +Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, +For he hath still been tried a holy man. +How if, when I am laid into the tomb, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! +Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, +To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? +Or, if I live, is it not very like, +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place,-- +As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, +Where, for these many hundred years, the bones +Of all my buried ancestors are packed: +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, +Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, +At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- +Alack, alack, is it not like that I, +So early waking, what with loathsome smells, +And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, +That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- +O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Environed with all these hideous fears? +And madly play with my forefather's joints? +And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? +And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, +As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? +O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost +Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body +Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! +Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. + +She falls upon her bed, within the curtains + +SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. + +Nurse +They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd, +The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: +Look to the baked meats, good Angelica: +Spare not for the cost. + +Nurse +Go, you cot-quean, go, +Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow +For this night's watching. + +CAPULET +No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now +All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; +But I will watch you from such watching now. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +A jealous hood, a jealous hood! + +Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets + +Now, fellow, +What's there? + +First Servant +Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. + +CAPULET +Make haste, make haste. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, fetch drier logs: +Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. + +Second Servant +I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, +And never trouble Peter for the matter. + +Exit + +CAPULET +Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! +Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day: +The county will be here with music straight, +For so he said he would: I hear him near. + +Music within + +Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say! + +Re-enter Nurse + +Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; +I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, +Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already: +Make haste, I say. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter Nurse +Nurse +Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: +Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed! +Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride! +What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now; +Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, +The County Paris hath set up his rest, +That you shall rest but little. God forgive me, +Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! +I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam! +Ay, let the county take you in your bed; +He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be? + +Undraws the curtains + +What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! +I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady! +Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead! +O, well-a-day, that ever I was born! +Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady! + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What noise is here? + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +What is the matter? + +Nurse +Look, look! O heavy day! + +LADY CAPULET +O me, O me! My child, my only life, +Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! +Help, help! Call help. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. + +Nurse +She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day! + +LADY CAPULET +Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! + +CAPULET +Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold: +Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; +Life and these lips have long been separated: +Death lies on her like an untimely frost +Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +O woful time! + +CAPULET +Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, +Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, is the bride ready to go to church? + +CAPULET +Ready to go, but never to return. +O son! the night before thy wedding-day +Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowered by him. +Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; +My daughter he hath wedded: I will die, +And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's. + +PARIS +Have I thought long to see this morning's face, +And doth it give me such a sight as this? + +LADY CAPULET +Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! +Most miserable hour that e'er time saw +In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! +But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, +But one thing to rejoice and solace in, +And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! + +Nurse +O woe! O woful, woful, woful day! +Most lamentable day, most woful day, +That ever, ever, I did yet behold! +O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! +Never was seen so black a day as this: +O woful day, O woful day! + +PARIS +Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! +Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, +By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! +O love! O life! not life, but love in death! + +CAPULET +Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! +Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now +To murder, murder our solemnity? +O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! +Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; +And with my child my joys are buried. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not +In these confusions. Heaven and yourself +Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, +And all the better is it for the maid: +Your part in her you could not keep from death, +But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. +The most you sought was her promotion; +For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced: +And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced +Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? +O, in this love, you love your child so ill, +That you run mad, seeing that she is well: +She's not well married that lives married long; +But she's best married that dies married young. +Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary +On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, +In all her best array bear her to church: +For though fond nature bids us an lament, +Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. + +CAPULET +All things that we ordained festival, +Turn from their office to black funeral; +Our instruments to melancholy bells, +Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, +Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, +Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, +And all things change them to the contrary. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him; +And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare +To follow this fair corse unto her grave: +The heavens do lour upon you for some ill; +Move them no more by crossing their high will. + +Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE + +First Musician +Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. + +Nurse +Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up; +For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. + +Exit + +First Musician +Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. + +Enter PETER + +PETER +Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's +ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.' + +First Musician +Why 'Heart's ease?' + +PETER +O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My +heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump, +to comfort me. + +First Musician +Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. + +PETER +You will not, then? + +First Musician +No. + +PETER +I will then give it you soundly. + +First Musician +What will you give us? + +PETER +No money, on my faith, but the gleek; +I will give you the minstrel. + +First Musician +Then I will give you the serving-creature. + +PETER +Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on +your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, +I'll fa you; do you note me? + +First Musician +An you re us and fa us, you note us. + +Second Musician +Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. + +PETER +Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you +with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer +me like men: +'When griping grief the heart doth wound, +And doleful dumps the mind oppress, +Then music with her silver sound'-- +why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver +sound'? What say you, Simon Catling? + +Musician +Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. + +PETER +Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? + +Second Musician +I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver. + +PETER +Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost? + +Third Musician +Faith, I know not what to say. + +PETER +O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say +for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,' +because musicians have no gold for sounding: +'Then music with her silver sound +With speedy help doth lend redress.' + +Exit + +First Musician +What a pestilent knave is this same! + +Second Musician +Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the +mourners, and stay dinner. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Mantua. A street. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, +My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: +My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; +And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit +Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. +I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- +Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave +to think!-- +And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, +That I revived, and was an emperor. +Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, +When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! + +Enter BALTHASAR, booted + +News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! +Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? +How doth my lady? Is my father well? +How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; +For nothing can be ill, if she be well. + +BALTHASAR +Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: +Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, +And her immortal part with angels lives. +I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, +And presently took post to tell it you: +O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, +Since you did leave it for my office, sir. + +ROMEO +Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! +Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, +And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. + +BALTHASAR +I do beseech you, sir, have patience: +Your looks are pale and wild, and do import +Some misadventure. + +ROMEO +Tush, thou art deceived: +Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? + +BALTHASAR +No, my good lord. + +ROMEO +No matter: get thee gone, +And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. + +Exit BALTHASAR + +Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. +Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! +I do remember an apothecary,-- +And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted +In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, +Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, +Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: +And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, +An alligator stuff'd, and other skins +Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves +A beggarly account of empty boxes, +Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, +Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, +Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. +Noting this penury, to myself I said +'An if a man did need a poison now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' +O, this same thought did but forerun my need; +And this same needy man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house. +Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. +What, ho! apothecary! + +Enter Apothecary + +Apothecary +Who calls so loud? + +ROMEO +Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor: +Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have +A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear +As will disperse itself through all the veins +That the life-weary taker may fall dead +And that the trunk may be discharged of breath +As violently as hasty powder fired +Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. + +Apothecary +Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law +Is death to any he that utters them. + +ROMEO +Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, +And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, +Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, +Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; +The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; +The world affords no law to make thee rich; +Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. + +Apothecary +My poverty, but not my will, consents. + +ROMEO +I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. + +Apothecary +Put this in any liquid thing you will, +And drink it off; and, if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. + +ROMEO +There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, +Doing more murders in this loathsome world, +Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. +I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. +Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. +Come, cordial and not poison, go with me +To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR JOHN +FRIAR JOHN +Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE + +FRIAR LAURENCE +This same should be the voice of Friar John. +Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? +Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. + +FRIAR JOHN +Going to find a bare-foot brother out +One of our order, to associate me, +Here in this city visiting the sick, +And finding him, the searchers of the town, +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did reign, +Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; +So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo? + +FRIAR JOHN +I could not send it,--here it is again,-- +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearful were they of infection. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, +The letter was not nice but full of charge +Of dear import, and the neglecting it +May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; +Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight +Unto my cell. + +FRIAR JOHN +Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. + +Exit + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Now must I to the monument alone; +Within three hours will fair Juliet wake: +She will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents; +But I will write again to Mantua, +And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; +Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets. + +Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch +PARIS +Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: +Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. +Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, +Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; +So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, +Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves, +But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, +As signal that thou hear'st something approach. +Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. + +PAGE +[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. + +Retires + +PARIS +Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,-- +O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;-- +Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, +Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: +The obsequies that I for thee will keep +Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. + +The Page whistles + +The boy gives warning something doth approach. +What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, +To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? +What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. + +Retires + +Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c + +ROMEO +Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. +Hold, take this letter; early in the morning +See thou deliver it to my lord and father. +Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, +Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death, +Is partly to behold my lady's face; +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger +A precious ring, a ring that I must use +In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: +But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry +In what I further shall intend to do, +By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint +And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: +The time and my intents are savage-wild, +More fierce and more inexorable far +Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. + +BALTHASAR +I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +ROMEO +So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: +Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. + +BALTHASAR +[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: +His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. + +Retires + +ROMEO +Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, +Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, +Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, +And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! + +Opens the tomb + +PARIS +This is that banish'd haughty Montague, +That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, +It is supposed, the fair creature died; +And here is come to do some villanous shame +To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. + +Comes forward + +Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! +Can vengeance be pursued further than death? +Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: +Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. + +ROMEO +I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; +Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, +Put not another sin upon my head, +By urging me to fury: O, be gone! +By heaven, I love thee better than myself; +For I come hither arm'd against myself: +Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, +A madman's mercy bade thee run away. + +PARIS +I do defy thy conjurations, +And apprehend thee for a felon here. + +ROMEO +Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! + +They fight + +PAGE +O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. + +Exit + +PARIS +O, I am slain! + +Falls + +If thou be merciful, +Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. + +Dies + +ROMEO +In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. +Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! +What said my man, when my betossed soul +Did not attend him as we rode? I think +He told me Paris should have married Juliet: +Said he not so? or did I dream it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, +To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, +One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! +I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; +A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, +For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes +This vault a feasting presence full of light. +Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. + +Laying PARIS in the tomb + +How oft when men are at the point of death +Have they been merry! which their keepers call +A lightning before death: O, how may I +Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! +Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: +Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet +Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, +And death's pale flag is not advanced there. +Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? +O, what more favour can I do to thee, +Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain +To sunder his that was thine enemy? +Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, +Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe +That unsubstantial death is amorous, +And that the lean abhorred monster keeps +Thee here in dark to be his paramour? +For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; +And never from this palace of dim night +Depart again: here, here will I remain +With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here +Will I set up my everlasting rest, +And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars +From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! +Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you +The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss +A dateless bargain to engrossing death! +Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! +Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on +The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! +Here's to my love! + +Drinks + +O true apothecary! +Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. + +Dies + +Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night +Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? + +BALTHASAR +Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, +What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light +To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, +It burneth in the Capel's monument. + +BALTHASAR +It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, +One that you love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who is it? + +BALTHASAR +Romeo. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +How long hath he been there? + +BALTHASAR +Full half an hour. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go with me to the vault. + +BALTHASAR +I dare not, sir +My master knows not but I am gone hence; +And fearfully did menace me with death, +If I did stay to look on his intents. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: +O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. + +BALTHASAR +As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, +I dreamt my master and another fought, +And that my master slew him. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo! + +Advances + +Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains +The stony entrance of this sepulchre? +What mean these masterless and gory swords +To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? + +Enters the tomb + +Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? +And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour +Is guilty of this lamentable chance! +The lady stirs. + +JULIET wakes + +JULIET +O comfortable friar! where is my lord? +I do remember well where I should be, +And there I am. Where is my Romeo? + +Noise within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: +A greater power than we can contradict +Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. +Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; +And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee +Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: +Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; +Come, go, good Juliet, + +Noise again + +I dare no longer stay. + +JULIET +Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. + +Exit FRIAR LAURENCE + +What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? +Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: +O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop +To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; +Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, +To make die with a restorative. + +Kisses him + +Thy lips are warm. + +First Watchman +[Within] Lead, boy: which way? + +JULIET +Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! + +Snatching ROMEO's dagger + +This is thy sheath; + +Stabs herself + +there rust, and let me die. + +Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies + +Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS + +PAGE +This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. + +First Watchman +The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: +Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. +Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, +And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, +Who here hath lain these two days buried. +Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: +Raise up the Montagues: some others search: +We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; +But the true ground of all these piteous woes +We cannot without circumstance descry. + +Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR + +Second Watchman +Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. + +First Watchman +Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. + +Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE + +Third Watchman +Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: +We took this mattock and this spade from him, +As he was coming from this churchyard side. + +First Watchman +A great suspicion: stay the friar too. + +Enter the PRINCE and Attendants + +PRINCE +What misadventure is so early up, +That calls our person from our morning's rest? + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others + +CAPULET +What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? + +LADY CAPULET +The people in the street cry Romeo, +Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, +With open outcry toward our monument. + +PRINCE +What fear is this which startles in our ears? + +First Watchman +Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; +And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, +Warm and new kill'd. + +PRINCE +Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. + +First Watchman +Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; +With instruments upon them, fit to open +These dead men's tombs. + +CAPULET +O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! +This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house +Is empty on the back of Montague,-- +And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! + +LADY CAPULET +O me! this sight of death is as a bell, +That warns my old age to a sepulchre. + +Enter MONTAGUE and others + +PRINCE +Come, Montague; for thou art early up, +To see thy son and heir more early down. + +MONTAGUE +Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; +Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: +What further woe conspires against mine age? + +PRINCE +Look, and thou shalt see. + +MONTAGUE +O thou untaught! what manners is in this? +To press before thy father to a grave? + +PRINCE +Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, +Till we can clear these ambiguities, +And know their spring, their head, their +true descent; +And then will I be general of your woes, +And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, +And let mischance be slave to patience. +Bring forth the parties of suspicion. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I am the greatest, able to do least, +Yet most suspected, as the time and place +Doth make against me of this direful murder; +And here I stand, both to impeach and purge +Myself condemned and myself excused. + +PRINCE +Then say at once what thou dost know in this. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I will be brief, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; +And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: +I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day +Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death +Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, +For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. +You, to remove that siege of grief from her, +Betroth'd and would have married her perforce +To County Paris: then comes she to me, +And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean +To rid her from this second marriage, +Or in my cell there would she kill herself. +Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, +A sleeping potion; which so took effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, +That he should hither come as this dire night, +To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, +Being the time the potion's force should cease. +But he which bore my letter, Friar John, +Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight +Return'd my letter back. Then all alone +At the prefixed hour of her waking, +Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; +Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, +Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: +But when I came, some minute ere the time +Of her awaking, here untimely lay +The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. +She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, +And bear this work of heaven with patience: +But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; +And she, too desperate, would not go with me, +But, as it seems, did violence on herself. +All this I know; and to the marriage +Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this +Miscarried by my fault, let my old life +Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, +Unto the rigour of severest law. + +PRINCE +We still have known thee for a holy man. +Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? + +BALTHASAR +I brought my master news of Juliet's death; +And then in post he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same monument. +This letter he early bid me give his father, +And threatened me with death, going in the vault, +I departed not and left him there. + +PRINCE +Give me the letter; I will look on it. +Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? +Sirrah, what made your master in this place? + +PAGE +He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; +And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: +Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; +And by and by my master drew on him; +And then I ran away to call the watch. + +PRINCE +This letter doth make good the friar's words, +Their course of love, the tidings of her death: +And here he writes that he did buy a poison +Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal +Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. +Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! +See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, +That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. +And I for winking at your discords too +Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. + +CAPULET +O brother Montague, give me thy hand: +This is my daughter's jointure, for no more +Can I demand. + +MONTAGUE +But I can give thee more: +For I will raise her statue in pure gold; +That while Verona by that name is known, +There shall no figure at such rate be set +As that of true and faithful Juliet. + +CAPULET +As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; +Poor sacrifices of our enmity! + +PRINCE +A glooming peace this morning with it brings; +The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: +Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; +Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: +For never was a story of more woe +Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. + +Exeunt +Antony and Cleopatra +Shakespeare homepage | Antony and Cleopatra | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO +PHILO +Nay, but this dotage of our general's +O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, +That o'er the files and musters of the war +Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, +The office and devotion of their view +Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, +Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst +The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper, +And is become the bellows and the fan +To cool a gipsy's lust. + +Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her + +Look, where they come: +Take but good note, and you shall see in him. +The triple pillar of the world transform'd +Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. + +CLEOPATRA +If it be love indeed, tell me how much. + +MARK ANTONY +There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. + +MARK ANTONY +Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +News, my good lord, from Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Grates me: the sum. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, hear them, Antony: +Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows +If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent +His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this; +Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; +Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' + +MARK ANTONY +How, my love! + +CLEOPATRA +Perchance! nay, and most like: +You must not stay here longer, your dismission +Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony. +Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both? +Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, +Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine +Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame +When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! + +MARK ANTONY +Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch +Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space. +Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike +Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life +Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair + +Embracing + +And such a twain can do't, in which I bind, +On pain of punishment, the world to weet +We stand up peerless. + +CLEOPATRA +Excellent falsehood! +Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? +I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony +Will be himself. + +MARK ANTONY +But stirr'd by Cleopatra. +Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, +Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: +There's not a minute of our lives should stretch +Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? + +CLEOPATRA +Hear the ambassadors. + +MARK ANTONY +Fie, wrangling queen! +Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, +To weep; whose every passion fully strives +To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! +No messenger, but thine; and all alone +To-night we'll wander through the streets and note +The qualities of people. Come, my queen; +Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with their train + +DEMETRIUS +Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? + +PHILO +Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, +He comes too short of that great property +Which still should go with Antony. + +DEMETRIUS +I am full sorry +That he approves the common liar, who +Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope +Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. Another room. + +Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer +CHARMIAN +Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, +almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer +that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew +this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns +with garlands! + +ALEXAS +Soothsayer! + +Soothsayer +Your will? + +CHARMIAN +Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? + +Soothsayer +In nature's infinite book of secrecy +A little I can read. + +ALEXAS +Show him your hand. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough +Cleopatra's health to drink. + +CHARMIAN +Good sir, give me good fortune. + +Soothsayer +I make not, but foresee. + +CHARMIAN +Pray, then, foresee me one. + +Soothsayer +You shall be yet far fairer than you are. + +CHARMIAN +He means in flesh. + +IRAS +No, you shall paint when you are old. + +CHARMIAN +Wrinkles forbid! + +ALEXAS +Vex not his prescience; be attentive. + +CHARMIAN +Hush! + +Soothsayer +You shall be more beloving than beloved. + +CHARMIAN +I had rather heat my liver with drinking. + +ALEXAS +Nay, hear him. + +CHARMIAN +Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married +to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: +let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry +may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius +Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. + +Soothsayer +You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. + +CHARMIAN +O excellent! I love long life better than figs. + +Soothsayer +You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune +Than that which is to approach. + +CHARMIAN +Then belike my children shall have no names: +prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? + +Soothsayer +If every of your wishes had a womb. +And fertile every wish, a million. + +CHARMIAN +Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. + +ALEXAS +You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, come, tell Iras hers. + +ALEXAS +We'll know all our fortunes. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall +be--drunk to bed. + +IRAS +There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. + +CHARMIAN +E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. + +IRAS +Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful +prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, +tell her but a worky-day fortune. + +Soothsayer +Your fortunes are alike. + +IRAS +But how, but how? give me particulars. + +Soothsayer +I have said. + +IRAS +Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? + +CHARMIAN +Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than +I, where would you choose it? + +IRAS +Not in my husband's nose. + +CHARMIAN +Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come, +his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman +that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let +her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst +follow worse, till the worst of all follow him +laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good +Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a +matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! + +IRAS +Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! +for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man +loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a +foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep +decorum, and fortune him accordingly! + +CHARMIAN +Amen. + +ALEXAS +Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a +cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but +they'ld do't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Hush! here comes Antony. + +CHARMIAN +Not he; the queen. + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +CLEOPATRA +Saw you my lord? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Was he not here? + +CHARMIAN +No, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden +A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Seek him, and bring him hither. +Where's Alexas? + +ALEXAS +Here, at your service. My lord approaches. + +CLEOPATRA +We will not look upon him: go with us. + +Exeunt + +Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants + +Messenger +Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. + +MARK ANTONY +Against my brother Lucius? + +Messenger +Ay: +But soon that war had end, and the time's state +Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar; +Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, +Upon the first encounter, drave them. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, what worst? + +Messenger +The nature of bad news infects the teller. + +MARK ANTONY +When it concerns the fool or coward. On: +Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus: +Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, +I hear him as he flatter'd. + +Messenger +Labienus-- +This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force, +Extended Asia from Euphrates; +His conquering banner shook from Syria +To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst-- + +MARK ANTONY +Antony, thou wouldst say,-- + +Messenger +O, my lord! + +MARK ANTONY +Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: +Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome; +Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults +With such full licence as both truth and malice +Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, +When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us +Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. + +Messenger +At your noble pleasure. + +Exit + +MARK ANTONY +From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! + +First Attendant +The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one? + +Second Attendant +He stays upon your will. + +MARK ANTONY +Let him appear. +These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, +Or lose myself in dotage. + +Enter another Messenger + +What are you? + +Second Messenger +Fulvia thy wife is dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Where died she? + +Second Messenger +In Sicyon: +Her length of sickness, with what else more serious +Importeth thee to know, this bears. + +Gives a letter + +MARK ANTONY +Forbear me. + +Exit Second Messenger + +There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: +What our contempt doth often hurl from us, +We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, +By revolution lowering, does become +The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; +The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. +I must from this enchanting queen break off: +Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, +My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus! + +Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's your pleasure, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +I must with haste from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, then, we kill all our women: +we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; +if they suffer our departure, death's the word. + +MARK ANTONY +I must be gone. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were +pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between +them and a great cause, they should be esteemed +nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of +this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty +times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is +mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon +her, she hath such a celerity in dying. + +MARK ANTONY +She is cunning past man's thought. + +Exit ALEXAS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but +the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her +winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater +storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this +cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a +shower of rain as well as Jove. + +MARK ANTONY +Would I had never seen her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece +of work; which not to have been blest withal would +have discredited your travel. + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir? + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Fulvia! + +MARK ANTONY +Dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When +it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man +from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; +comforting therein, that when old robes are worn +out, there are members to make new. If there were +no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, +and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned +with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new +petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion +that should water this sorrow. + +MARK ANTONY +The business she hath broached in the state +Cannot endure my absence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And the business you have broached here cannot be +without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which +wholly depends on your abode. + +MARK ANTONY +No more light answers. Let our officers +Have notice what we purpose. I shall break +The cause of our expedience to the queen, +And get her leave to part. For not alone +The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, +Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too +Of many our contriving friends in Rome +Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius +Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands +The empire of the sea: our slippery people, +Whose love is never link'd to the deserver +Till his deserts are past, begin to throw +Pompey the Great and all his dignities +Upon his son; who, high in name and power, +Higher than both in blood and life, stands up +For the main soldier: whose quality, going on, +The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding, +Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, +And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure, +To such whose place is under us, requires +Our quick remove from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall do't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Another room. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is he? + +CHARMIAN +I did not see him since. + +CLEOPATRA +See where he is, who's with him, what he does: +I did not send you: if you find him sad, +Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report +That I am sudden sick: quick, and return. + +Exit ALEXAS + +CHARMIAN +Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, +You do not hold the method to enforce +The like from him. + +CLEOPATRA +What should I do, I do not? + +CHARMIAN +In each thing give him way, cross him nothing. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. + +CHARMIAN +Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: +In time we hate that which we often fear. +But here comes Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY + +CLEOPATRA +I am sick and sullen. + +MARK ANTONY +I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: +It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature +Will not sustain it. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, my dearest queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, stand further from me. + +MARK ANTONY +What's the matter? + +CLEOPATRA +I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. +What says the married woman? You may go: +Would she had never given you leave to come! +Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here: +I have no power upon you; hers you are. + +MARK ANTONY +The gods best know,-- + +CLEOPATRA +O, never was there queen +So mightily betray'd! yet at the first +I saw the treasons planted. + +MARK ANTONY +Cleopatra,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Why should I think you can be mine and true, +Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, +Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, +To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, +Which break themselves in swearing! + +MARK ANTONY +Most sweet queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, +But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, +Then was the time for words: no going then; +Eternity was in our lips and eyes, +Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor, +But was a race of heaven: they are so still, +Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, +Art turn'd the greatest liar. + +MARK ANTONY +How now, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know +There were a heart in Egypt. + +MARK ANTONY +Hear me, queen: +The strong necessity of time commands +Our services awhile; but my full heart +Remains in use with you. Our Italy +Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius +Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: +Equality of two domestic powers +Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength, +Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, +Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace, +Into the hearts of such as have not thrived +Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; +And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge +By any desperate change: my more particular, +And that which most with you should safe my going, +Is Fulvia's death. + +CLEOPATRA +Though age from folly could not give me freedom, +It does from childishness: can Fulvia die? + +MARK ANTONY +She's dead, my queen: +Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read +The garboils she awaked; at the last, best: +See when and where she died. + +CLEOPATRA +O most false love! +Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill +With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, +In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. + +MARK ANTONY +Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know +The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, +As you shall give the advice. By the fire +That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence +Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war +As thou affect'st. + +CLEOPATRA +Cut my lace, Charmian, come; +But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, +So Antony loves. + +MARK ANTONY +My precious queen, forbear; +And give true evidence to his love, which stands +An honourable trial. + +CLEOPATRA +So Fulvia told me. +I prithee, turn aside and weep for her, +Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears +Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene +Of excellent dissembling; and let it look +Life perfect honour. + +MARK ANTONY +You'll heat my blood: no more. + +CLEOPATRA +You can do better yet; but this is meetly. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, by my sword,-- + +CLEOPATRA +And target. Still he mends; +But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, +How this Herculean Roman does become +The carriage of his chafe. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll leave you, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Courteous lord, one word. +Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: +Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it; +That you know well: something it is I would, +O, my oblivion is a very Antony, +And I am all forgotten. + +MARK ANTONY +But that your royalty +Holds idleness your subject, I should take you +For idleness itself. + +CLEOPATRA +'Tis sweating labour +To bear such idleness so near the heart +As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; +Since my becomings kill me, when they do not +Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence; +Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly. +And all the gods go with you! upon your sword +Sit laurel victory! and smooth success +Be strew'd before your feet! + +MARK ANTONY +Let us go. Come; +Our separation so abides, and flies, +That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, +And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS, and their Train +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, +It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate +Our great competitor: from Alexandria +This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes +The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like +Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy +More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or +Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there +A man who is the abstract of all faults +That all men follow. + +LEPIDUS +I must not think there are +Evils enow to darken all his goodness: +His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, +More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, +Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, +Than what he chooses. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not +Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; +To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit +And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; +To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet +With knaves that smell of sweat: say this +becomes him,-- +As his composure must be rare indeed +Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony +No way excuse his soils, when we do bear +So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd +His vacancy with his voluptuousness, +Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, +Call on him for't: but to confound such time, +That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud +As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid +As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, +Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, +And so rebel to judgment. + +Enter a Messenger + +LEPIDUS +Here's more news. + +Messenger +Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, +Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report +How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea; +And it appears he is beloved of those +That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports +The discontents repair, and men's reports +Give him much wrong'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I should have known no less. +It hath been taught us from the primal state, +That he which is was wish'd until he were; +And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love, +Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, +Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, +Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, +To rot itself with motion. + +Messenger +Caesar, I bring thee word, +Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, +Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound +With keels of every kind: many hot inroads +They make in Italy; the borders maritime +Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: +No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon +Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more +Than could his war resisted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Antony, +Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once +Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st +Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel +Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, +Though daintily brought up, with patience more +Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink +The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle +Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign +The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; +Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, +The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps +It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh, +Which some did die to look on: and all this-- +It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-- +Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek +So much as lank'd not. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis pity of him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let his shames quickly +Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain +Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end +Assemble we immediate council: Pompey +Thrives in our idleness. + +LEPIDUS +To-morrow, Caesar, +I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly +Both what by sea and land I can be able +To front this present time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Till which encounter, +It is my business too. Farewell. + +LEPIDUS +Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime +Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, +To let me be partaker. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Doubt not, sir; +I knew it for my bond. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Charmian! + +CHARMIAN +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Ha, ha! +Give me to drink mandragora. + +CHARMIAN +Why, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +That I might sleep out this great gap of time +My Antony is away. + +CHARMIAN +You think of him too much. + +CLEOPATRA +O, 'tis treason! + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I trust, not so. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou, eunuch Mardian! + +MARDIAN +What's your highness' pleasure? + +CLEOPATRA +Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure +In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee, +That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts +May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? + +MARDIAN +Yes, gracious madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed! + +MARDIAN +Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing +But what indeed is honest to be done: +Yet have I fierce affections, and think +What Venus did with Mars. + +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, +Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? +Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? +O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! +Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest? +The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm +And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, +Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?' +For so he calls me: now I feed myself +With most delicious poison. Think on me, +That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, +And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, +When thou wast here above the ground, I was +A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey +Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; +There would he anchor his aspect and die +With looking on his life. + +Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR + +ALEXAS +Sovereign of Egypt, hail! + +CLEOPATRA +How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! +Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath +With his tinct gilded thee. +How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? + +ALEXAS +Last thing he did, dear queen, +He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,-- +This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. + +CLEOPATRA +Mine ear must pluck it thence. + +ALEXAS +'Good friend,' quoth he, +'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends +This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, +To mend the petty present, I will piece +Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east, +Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded, +And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, +Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke +Was beastly dumb'd by him. + +CLEOPATRA +What, was he sad or merry? + +ALEXAS +Like to the time o' the year between the extremes +Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. + +CLEOPATRA +O well-divided disposition! Note him, +Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him: +He was not sad, for he would shine on those +That make their looks by his; he was not merry, +Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay +In Egypt with his joy; but between both: +O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry, +The violence of either thee becomes, +So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts? + +ALEXAS +Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: +Why do you send so thick? + +CLEOPATRA +Who's born that day +When I forget to send to Antony, +Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. +Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, +Ever love Caesar so? + +CHARMIAN +O that brave Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +Be choked with such another emphasis! +Say, the brave Antony. + +CHARMIAN +The valiant Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, +If thou with Caesar paragon again +My man of men. + +CHARMIAN +By your most gracious pardon, +I sing but after you. + +CLEOPATRA +My salad days, +When I was green in judgment: cold in blood, +To say as I said then! But, come, away; +Get me ink and paper: +He shall have every day a several greeting, +Or I'll unpeople Egypt. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Messina. POMPEY's house. + +Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike manner +POMPEY +If the great gods be just, they shall assist +The deeds of justest men. + +MENECRATES +Know, worthy Pompey, +That what they do delay, they not deny. + +POMPEY +Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays +The thing we sue for. + +MENECRATES +We, ignorant of ourselves, +Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers +Deny us for our good; so find we profit +By losing of our prayers. + +POMPEY +I shall do well: +The people love me, and the sea is mine; +My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope +Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony +In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make +No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where +He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, +Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, +Nor either cares for him. + +MENAS +Caesar and Lepidus +Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. + +POMPEY +Where have you this? 'tis false. + +MENAS +From Silvius, sir. + +POMPEY +He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, +Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, +Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip! +Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! +Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, +Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks +Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite; +That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour +Even till a Lethe'd dulness! + +Enter VARRIUS + +How now, Varrius! + +VARRIUS +This is most certain that I shall deliver: +Mark Antony is every hour in Rome +Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis +A space for further travel. + +POMPEY +I could have given less matter +A better ear. Menas, I did not think +This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm +For such a petty war: his soldiership +Is twice the other twain: but let us rear +The higher our opinion, that our stirring +Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck +The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony. + +MENAS +I cannot hope +Caesar and Antony shall well greet together: +His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; +His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, +Not moved by Antony. + +POMPEY +I know not, Menas, +How lesser enmities may give way to greater. +Were't not that we stand up against them all, +'Twere pregnant they should square between +themselves; +For they have entertained cause enough +To draw their swords: but how the fear of us +May cement their divisions and bind up +The petty difference, we yet not know. +Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands +Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. +Come, Menas. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. The house of LEPIDUS. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS +LEPIDUS +Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, +And shall become you well, to entreat your captain +To soft and gentle speech. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall entreat him +To answer like himself: if Caesar move him, +Let Antony look over Caesar's head +And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, +Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, +I would not shave't to-day. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis not a time +For private stomaching. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Every time +Serves for the matter that is then born in't. + +LEPIDUS +But small to greater matters must give way. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not if the small come first. + +LEPIDUS +Your speech is passion: +But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes +The noble Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And yonder, Caesar. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA + +MARK ANTONY +If we compose well here, to Parthia: +Hark, Ventidius. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not know, +Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. + +LEPIDUS +Noble friends, +That which combined us was most great, and let not +A leaner action rend us. What's amiss, +May it be gently heard: when we debate +Our trivial difference loud, we do commit +Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners, +The rather, for I earnestly beseech, +Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, +Nor curstness grow to the matter. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis spoken well. +Were we before our armies, and to fight. +I should do thus. + +Flourish + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome to Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Thank you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Sit. + +MARK ANTONY +Sit, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, then. + +MARK ANTONY +I learn, you take things ill which are not so, +Or being, concern you not. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I must be laugh'd at, +If, or for nothing or a little, I +Should say myself offended, and with you +Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should +Once name you derogately, when to sound your name +It not concern'd me. + +MARK ANTONY +My being in Egypt, Caesar, +What was't to you? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No more than my residing here at Rome +Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there +Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt +Might be my question. + +MARK ANTONY +How intend you, practised? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may be pleased to catch at mine intent +By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother +Made wars upon me; and their contestation +Was theme for you, you were the word of war. + +MARK ANTONY +You do mistake your business; my brother never +Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it; +And have my learning from some true reports, +That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather +Discredit my authority with yours; +And make the wars alike against my stomach, +Having alike your cause? Of this my letters +Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, +As matter whole you have not to make it with, +It must not be with this. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You praise yourself +By laying defects of judgment to me; but +You patch'd up your excuses. + +MARK ANTONY +Not so, not so; +I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, +Very necessity of this thought, that I, +Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, +Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars +Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, +I would you had her spirit in such another: +The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle +You may pace easy, but not such a wife. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would we had all such wives, that the men might go +to wars with the women! + +MARK ANTONY +So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar +Made out of her impatience, which not wanted +Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant +Did you too much disquiet: for that you must +But say, I could not help it. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I wrote to you +When rioting in Alexandria; you +Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts +Did gibe my missive out of audience. + +MARK ANTONY +Sir, +He fell upon me ere admitted: then +Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want +Of what I was i' the morning: but next day +I told him of myself; which was as much +As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow +Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, +Out of our question wipe him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You have broken +The article of your oath; which you shall never +Have tongue to charge me with. + +LEPIDUS +Soft, Caesar! + +MARK ANTONY +No, +Lepidus, let him speak: +The honour is sacred which he talks on now, +Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar; +The article of my oath. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +To lend me arms and aid when I required them; +The which you both denied. + +MARK ANTONY +Neglected, rather; +And then when poison'd hours had bound me up +From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may, +I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty +Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power +Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia, +To have me out of Egypt, made wars here; +For which myself, the ignorant motive, do +So far ask pardon as befits mine honour +To stoop in such a case. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis noble spoken. + +MECAENAS +If it might please you, to enforce no further +The griefs between ye: to forget them quite +Were to remember that the present need +Speaks to atone you. + +LEPIDUS +Worthily spoken, Mecaenas. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Or, if you borrow one another's love for the +instant, you may, when you hear no more words of +Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to +wrangle in when you have nothing else to do. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou art a soldier only: speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. + +MARK ANTONY +You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Go to, then; your considerate stone. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not much dislike the matter, but +The manner of his speech; for't cannot be +We shall remain in friendship, our conditions +So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew +What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge +O' the world I would pursue it. + +AGRIPPA +Give me leave, Caesar,-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Speak, Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, +Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony +Is now a widower. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Say not so, Agrippa: +If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof +Were well deserved of rashness. + +MARK ANTONY +I am not married, Caesar: let me hear +Agrippa further speak. + +AGRIPPA +To hold you in perpetual amity, +To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts +With an unslipping knot, take Antony +Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims +No worse a husband than the best of men; +Whose virtue and whose general graces speak +That which none else can utter. By this marriage, +All little jealousies, which now seem great, +And all great fears, which now import their dangers, +Would then be nothing: truths would be tales, +Where now half tales be truths: her love to both +Would, each to other and all loves to both, +Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke; +For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, +By duty ruminated. + +MARK ANTONY +Will Caesar speak? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd +With what is spoke already. + +MARK ANTONY +What power is in Agrippa, +If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' +To make this good? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The power of Caesar, and +His power unto Octavia. + +MARK ANTONY +May I never +To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, +Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand: +Further this act of grace: and from this hour +The heart of brothers govern in our loves +And sway our great designs! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There is my hand. +A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother +Did ever love so dearly: let her live +To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never +Fly off our loves again! + +LEPIDUS +Happily, amen! + +MARK ANTONY +I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey; +For he hath laid strange courtesies and great +Of late upon me: I must thank him only, +Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; +At heel of that, defy him. + +LEPIDUS +Time calls upon's: +Of us must Pompey presently be sought, +Or else he seeks out us. + +MARK ANTONY +Where lies he? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +About the mount Misenum. + +MARK ANTONY +What is his strength by land? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Great and increasing: but by sea +He is an absolute master. + +MARK ANTONY +So is the fame. +Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it: +Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we +The business we have talk'd of. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +With most gladness: +And do invite you to my sister's view, +Whither straight I'll lead you. + +MARK ANTONY +Let us, Lepidus, +Not lack your company. + +LEPIDUS +Noble Antony, +Not sickness should detain me. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, and LEPIDUS + +MECAENAS +Welcome from Egypt, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My +honourable friend, Agrippa! + +AGRIPPA +Good Enobarbus! + +MECAENAS +We have cause to be glad that matters are so well +digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and +made the night light with drinking. + +MECAENAS +Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and +but twelve persons there; is this true? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more +monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. + +MECAENAS +She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to +her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up +his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. + +AGRIPPA +There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised +well for her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will tell you. +The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, +Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; +Purple the sails, and so perfumed that +The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, +Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made +The water which they beat to follow faster, +As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, +It beggar'd all description: she did lie +In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue-- +O'er-picturing that Venus where we see +The fancy outwork nature: on each side her +Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, +With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem +To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, +And what they undid did. + +AGRIPPA +O, rare for Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, +So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, +And made their bends adornings: at the helm +A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle +Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, +That yarely frame the office. From the barge +A strange invisible perfume hits the sense +Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast +Her people out upon her; and Antony, +Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone, +Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, +Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, +And made a gap in nature. + +AGRIPPA +Rare Egyptian! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, +Invited her to supper: she replied, +It should be better he became her guest; +Which she entreated: our courteous Antony, +Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak, +Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast, +And for his ordinary pays his heart +For what his eyes eat only. + +AGRIPPA +Royal wench! +She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed: +He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I saw her once +Hop forty paces through the public street; +And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, +That she did make defect perfection, +And, breathless, power breathe forth. + +MECAENAS +Now Antony must leave her utterly. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Never; he will not: +Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale +Her infinite variety: other women cloy +The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry +Where most she satisfies; for vilest things +Become themselves in her: that the holy priests +Bless her when she is riggish. + +MECAENAS +If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle +The heart of Antony, Octavia is +A blessed lottery to him. + +AGRIPPA +Let us go. +Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest +Whilst you abide here. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Humbly, sir, I thank you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between them, and Attendants +MARK ANTONY +The world and my great office will sometimes +Divide me from your bosom. + +OCTAVIA +All which time +Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers +To them for you. + +MARK ANTONY +Good night, sir. My Octavia, +Read not my blemishes in the world's report: +I have not kept my square; but that to come +Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady. +Good night, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good night. + +Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA + +Enter Soothsayer + +MARK ANTONY +Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt? + +Soothsayer +Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither! + +MARK ANTONY +If you can, your reason? + +Soothsayer +I see it in +My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet +Hie you to Egypt again. + +MARK ANTONY +Say to me, +Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? + +Soothsayer +Caesar's. +Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side: +Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is +Noble, courageous high, unmatchable, +Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel +Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore +Make space enough between you. + +MARK ANTONY +Speak this no more. + +Soothsayer +To none but thee; no more, but when to thee. +If thou dost play with him at any game, +Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, +He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens, +When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit +Is all afraid to govern thee near him; +But, he away, 'tis noble. + +MARK ANTONY +Get thee gone: +Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: + +Exit Soothsayer + +He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, +He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him; +And in our sports my better cunning faints +Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds; +His cocks do win the battle still of mine, +When it is all to nought; and his quails ever +Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt: +And though I make this marriage for my peace, +I' the east my pleasure lies. + +Enter VENTIDIUS + +O, come, Ventidius, +You must to Parthia: your commission's ready; +Follow me, and receive't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A street. + +Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA +LEPIDUS +Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten +Your generals after. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, Mark Antony +Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. + +LEPIDUS +Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, +Which will become you both, farewell. + +MECAENAS +We shall, +As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount +Before you, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your way is shorter; +My purposes do draw me much about: +You'll win two days upon me. + +MECAENAS AGRIPPA +Sir, good success! + +LEPIDUS +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Give me some music; music, moody food +Of us that trade in love. + +Attendants +The music, ho! + +Enter MARDIAN + +CLEOPATRA +Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. + +CHARMIAN +My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. + +CLEOPATRA +As well a woman with an eunuch play'd +As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? + +MARDIAN +As well as I can, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +And when good will is show'd, though't come +too short, +The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: +Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, +My music playing far off, I will betray +Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce +Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, +I'll think them every one an Antony, +And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.' + +CHARMIAN +'Twas merry when +You wager'd on your angling; when your diver +Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he +With fervency drew up. + +CLEOPATRA +That time,--O times!-- +I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night +I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn, +Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; +Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst +I wore his sword Philippan. + +Enter a Messenger + +O, from Italy +Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, +That long time have been barren. + +Messenger +Madam, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, +Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, +If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here +My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings +Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. + +Messenger +First, madam, he is well. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, there's more gold. +But, sirrah, mark, we use +To say the dead are well: bring it to that, +The gold I give thee will I melt and pour +Down thy ill-uttering throat. + +Messenger +Good madam, hear me. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, go to, I will; +But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony +Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour +To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, +Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, +Not like a formal man. + +Messenger +Will't please you hear me? + +CLEOPATRA +I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: +Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, +Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, +I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail +Rich pearls upon thee. + +Messenger +Madam, he's well. + +CLEOPATRA +Well said. + +Messenger +And friends with Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou'rt an honest man. + +Messenger +Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + +CLEOPATRA +Make thee a fortune from me. + +Messenger +But yet, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay +The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'! +'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth +Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, +Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, +The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: +In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. + +Messenger +Free, madam! no; I made no such report: +He's bound unto Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +For what good turn? + +Messenger +For the best turn i' the bed. + +CLEOPATRA +I am pale, Charmian. + +Messenger +Madam, he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +The most infectious pestilence upon thee! + +Strikes him down + +Messenger +Good madam, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +What say you? Hence, + +Strikes him again + +Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes +Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: + +She hales him up and down + +Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, +Smarting in lingering pickle. + +Messenger +Gracious madam, +I that do bring the news made not the match. + +CLEOPATRA +Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, +And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst +Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; +And I will boot thee with what gift beside +Thy modesty can beg. + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Rogue, thou hast lived too long. + +Draws a knife + +Messenger +Nay, then I'll run. +What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. + +Exit + +CHARMIAN +Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: +The man is innocent. + +CLEOPATRA +Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. +Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures +Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: +Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. + +CHARMIAN +He is afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +I will not hurt him. + +Exit CHARMIAN + +These hands do lack nobility, that they strike +A meaner than myself; since I myself +Have given myself the cause. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger + +Come hither, sir. +Though it be honest, it is never good +To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. +An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell +Themselves when they be felt. + +Messenger +I have done my duty. + +CLEOPATRA +Is he married? +I cannot hate thee worser than I do, +If thou again say 'Yes.' + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? + +Messenger +Should I lie, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +O, I would thou didst, +So half my Egypt were submerged and made +A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: +Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me +Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? + +Messenger +I crave your highness' pardon. + +CLEOPATRA +He is married? + +Messenger +Take no offence that I would not offend you: +To punish me for what you make me do. +Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, +That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: +The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome +Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, +And be undone by 'em! + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +Good your highness, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. + +CHARMIAN +Many times, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I am paid for't now. +Lead me from hence: +I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. +Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him +Report the feature of Octavia, her years, +Her inclination, let him not leave out +The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. + +Exit ALEXAS + +Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, +Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, +The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas + +To MARDIAN + +Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, +But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near Misenum. + +Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS, with Soldiers marching +POMPEY +Your hostages I have, so have you mine; +And we shall talk before we fight. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most meet +That first we come to words; and therefore have we +Our written purposes before us sent; +Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know +If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword, +And carry back to Sicily much tall youth +That else must perish here. + +POMPEY +To you all three, +The senators alone of this great world, +Chief factors for the gods, I do not know +Wherefore my father should revengers want, +Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar, +Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, +There saw you labouring for him. What was't +That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what +Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus, +With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom, +To drench the Capitol; but that they would +Have one man but a man? And that is it +Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen +The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant +To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome +Cast on my noble father. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take your time. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails; +We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st +How much we do o'er-count thee. + +POMPEY +At land, indeed, +Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house: +But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, +Remain in't as thou mayst. + +LEPIDUS +Be pleased to tell us-- +For this is from the present--how you take +The offers we have sent you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There's the point. + +MARK ANTONY +Which do not be entreated to, but weigh +What it is worth embraced. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +And what may follow, +To try a larger fortune. + +POMPEY +You have made me offer +Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must +Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send +Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon +To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back +Our targes undinted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +That's our offer. + +POMPEY +Know, then, +I came before you here a man prepared +To take this offer: but Mark Antony +Put me to some impatience: though I lose +The praise of it by telling, you must know, +When Caesar and your brother were at blows, +Your mother came to Sicily and did find +Her welcome friendly. + +MARK ANTONY +I have heard it, Pompey; +And am well studied for a liberal thanks +Which I do owe you. + +POMPEY +Let me have your hand: +I did not think, sir, to have met you here. + +MARK ANTONY +The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you, +That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither; +For I have gain'd by 't. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Since I saw you last, +There is a change upon you. + +POMPEY +Well, I know not +What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face; +But in my bosom shall she never come, +To make my heart her vassal. + +LEPIDUS +Well met here. + +POMPEY +I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed: +I crave our composition may be written, +And seal'd between us. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That's the next to do. + +POMPEY +We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's +Draw lots who shall begin. + +MARK ANTONY +That will I, Pompey. + +POMPEY +No, Antony, take the lot: but, first +Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery +Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar +Grew fat with feasting there. + +MARK ANTONY +You have heard much. + +POMPEY +I have fair meanings, sir. + +MARK ANTONY +And fair words to them. + +POMPEY +Then so much have I heard: +And I have heard, Apollodorus carried-- + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No more of that: he did so. + +POMPEY +What, I pray you? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. + +POMPEY +I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well; +And well am like to do; for, I perceive, +Four feasts are toward. + +POMPEY +Let me shake thy hand; +I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight, +When I have envied thy behavior. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir, +I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye, +When you have well deserved ten times as much +As I have said you did. + +POMPEY +Enjoy thy plainness, +It nothing ill becomes thee. +Aboard my galley I invite you all: +Will you lead, lords? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +Show us the way, sir. + +POMPEY +Come. + +Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS + +MENAS +[Aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have +made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +At sea, I think. + +MENAS +We have, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +You have done well by water. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will praise any man that will praise me; though it +cannot be denied what I have done by land. + +MENAS +Nor what I have done by water. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Yes, something you can deny for your own +safety: you have been a great thief by sea. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There I deny my land service. But give me your +hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they +might take two thieves kissing. + +MENAS +All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But there is never a fair woman has a true face. + +MENAS +No slander; they steal hearts. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +We came hither to fight with you. + +MENAS +For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. +Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again. + +MENAS +You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony +here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar's sister is called Octavia. + +MENAS +True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. + +MENAS +Pray ye, sir? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Tis true. + +MENAS +Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would +not prophesy so. + +MENAS +I think the policy of that purpose made more in the +marriage than the love of the parties. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I think so too. But you shall find, the band that +seems to tie their friendship together will be the +very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a +holy, cold, and still conversation. + +MENAS +Who would not have his wife so? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. +He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the +sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as +I said before, that which is the strength of their +amity shall prove the immediate author of their +variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: +he married but his occasion here. + +MENAS +And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? +I have a health for you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt. + +MENAS +Come, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum. + +Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet +First Servant +Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are +ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world +will blow them down. + +Second Servant +Lepidus is high-coloured. + +First Servant +They have made him drink alms-drink. + +Second Servant +As they pinch one another by the disposition, he +cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his +entreaty, and himself to the drink. + +First Servant +But it raises the greater war between him and +his discretion. + +Second Servant +Why, this is to have a name in great men's +fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do +me no service as a partisan I could not heave. + +First Servant +To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen +to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, +which pitifully disaster the cheeks. + +A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains + +MARK ANTONY +[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take +the flow o' the Nile +By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, +By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth +Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells, +The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman +Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, +And shortly comes to harvest. + +LEPIDUS +You've strange serpents there. + +MARK ANTONY +Ay, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the +operation of your sun: so is your crocodile. + +MARK ANTONY +They are so. + +POMPEY +Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then. + +LEPIDUS +Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' +pyramises are very goodly things; without +contradiction, I have heard that. + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Say in mine ear: +what is't? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech +thee, captain, +And hear me speak a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Forbear me till anon. +This wine for Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +What manner o' thing is your crocodile? + +MARK ANTONY +It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad +as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is, +and moves with its own organs: it lives by that +which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of +it, it transmigrates. + +LEPIDUS +What colour is it of? + +MARK ANTONY +Of it own colour too. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis a strange serpent. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Will this description satisfy him? + +MARK ANTONY +With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a +very epicure. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of +that? away! +Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] If for the sake of merit thou +wilt hear me, +Rise from thy stool. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] I think thou'rt mad. +The matter? + +Rises, and walks aside + +MENAS +I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. + +POMPEY +Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say? +Be jolly, lords. + +MARK ANTONY +These quick-sands, Lepidus, +Keep off them, for you sink. + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of all the world? + +POMPEY +What say'st thou? + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. + +POMPEY +How should that be? + +MENAS +But entertain it, +And, though thou think me poor, I am the man +Will give thee all the world. + +POMPEY +Hast thou drunk well? + +MENAS +Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. +Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove: +Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, +Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. + +POMPEY +Show me which way. + +MENAS +These three world-sharers, these competitors, +Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable; +And, when we are put off, fall to their throats: +All there is thine. + +POMPEY +Ah, this thou shouldst have done, +And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany; +In thee't had been good service. Thou must know, +'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; +Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue +Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown, +I should have found it afterwards well done; +But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. + +MENAS +[Aside] For this, +I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. +Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, +Shall never find it more. + +POMPEY +This health to Lepidus! + +MARK ANTONY +Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Here's to thee, Menas! + +MENAS +Enobarbus, welcome! + +POMPEY +Fill till the cup be hid. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There's a strong fellow, Menas. + +Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS + +MENAS +Why? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st +not? + +MENAS +The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all, +That it might go on wheels! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Drink thou; increase the reels. + +MENAS +Come. + +POMPEY +This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. + +MARK ANTONY +It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho? +Here is to Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I could well forbear't. +It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, +And it grows fouler. + +MARK ANTONY +Be a child o' the time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Possess it, I'll make answer: +But I had rather fast from all four days +Than drink so much in one. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ha, my brave emperor! + +To MARK ANTONY + +Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals, +And celebrate our drink? + +POMPEY +Let's ha't, good soldier. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, let's all take hands, +Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense +In soft and delicate Lethe. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +All take hands. +Make battery to our ears with the loud music: +The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing; +The holding every man shall bear as loud +As his strong sides can volley. + +Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand + +THE SONG. +Come, thou monarch of the vine, +Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! +In thy fats our cares be drown'd, +With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: +Cup us, till the world go round, +Cup us, till the world go round! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, +Let me request you off: our graver business +Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; +You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb +Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue +Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost +Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. +Good Antony, your hand. + +POMPEY +I'll try you on the shore. + +MARK ANTONY +And shall, sir; give's your hand. + +POMPEY +O Antony, +You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends. +Come, down into the boat. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Take heed you fall not. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS + +Menas, I'll not on shore. + +MENAS +No, to my cabin. +These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what! +Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell +To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out! + +Sound a flourish, with drums + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ho! says a' There's my cap. + +MENAS +Ho! Noble captain, come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A plain in Syria. + +Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of PACORUS borne before him +VENTIDIUS +Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now +Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death +Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body +Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, +Pays this for Marcus Crassus. + +SILIUS +Noble Ventidius, +Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, +The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media, +Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither +The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony +Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and +Put garlands on thy head. + +VENTIDIUS +O Silius, Silius, +I have done enough; a lower place, note well, +May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius; +Better to leave undone, than by our deed +Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away. +Caesar and Antony have ever won +More in their officer than person: Sossius, +One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, +For quick accumulation of renown, +Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. +Who does i' the wars more than his captain can +Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition, +The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, +Than gain which darkens him. +I could do more to do Antonius good, +But 'twould offend him; and in his offence +Should my performance perish. + +SILIUS +Thou hast, Ventidius, +that +Without the which a soldier, and his sword, +Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony! + +VENTIDIUS +I'll humbly signify what in his name, +That magical word of war, we have effected; +How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, +The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia +We have jaded out o' the field. + +SILIUS +Where is he now? + +VENTIDIUS +He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste +The weight we must convey with's will permit, +We shall appear before him. On there; pass along! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS at another +AGRIPPA +What, are the brothers parted? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone; +The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps +To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus, +Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled +With the green sickness. + +AGRIPPA +'Tis a noble Lepidus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar! + +AGRIPPA +Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. + +AGRIPPA +What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil! + +AGRIPPA +O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further. + +AGRIPPA +Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony: +Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, +poets, cannot +Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho! +His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, +Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. + +AGRIPPA +Both he loves. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They are his shards, and he their beetle. + +Trumpets within + +So; +This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +No further, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You take from me a great part of myself; +Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife +As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band +Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, +Let not the piece of virtue, which is set +Betwixt us as the cement of our love, +To keep it builded, be the ram to batter +The fortress of it; for better might we +Have loved without this mean, if on both parts +This be not cherish'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Make me not offended +In your distrust. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have said. + +MARK ANTONY +You shall not find, +Though you be therein curious, the least cause +For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you, +And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! +We will here part. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: +The elements be kind to thee, and make +Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. + +OCTAVIA +My noble brother! + +MARK ANTONY +The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring, +And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. + +OCTAVIA +Sir, look well to my husband's house; and-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What, Octavia? + +OCTAVIA +I'll tell you in your ear. + +MARK ANTONY +Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can +Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's +down-feather, +That stands upon the swell at full of tide, +And neither way inclines. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] Will Caesar weep? + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] He has a cloud in 's face. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] He were the worse for that, +were he a horse; +So is he, being a man. + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] Why, Enobarbus, +When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, +He cried almost to roaring; and he wept +When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] That year, indeed, he was +troubled with a rheum; +What willingly he did confound he wail'd, +Believe't, till I wept too. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, sweet Octavia, +You shall hear from me still; the time shall not +Out-go my thinking on you. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, sir, come; +I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: +Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, +And give you to the gods. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Adieu; be happy! + +LEPIDUS +Let all the number of the stars give light +To thy fair way! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, fa rewell! + +Kisses OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +Farewell! + +Trumpets sound. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is the fellow? + +ALEXAS +Half afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +Go to, go to. + +Enter the Messenger as before + +Come hither, sir. + +ALEXAS +Good majesty, +Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you +But when you are well pleased. + +CLEOPATRA +That Herod's head +I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone +Through whom I might command it? Come thou near. + +Messenger +Most gracious majesty,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Didst thou behold Octavia? + +Messenger +Ay, dread queen. + +CLEOPATRA +Where? + +Messenger +Madam, in Rome; +I look'd her in the face, and saw her led +Between her brother and Mark Antony. + +CLEOPATRA +Is she as tall as me? + +Messenger +She is not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? + +Messenger +Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. + +CLEOPATRA +That's not so good: he cannot like her long. + +CHARMIAN +Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible. + +CLEOPATRA +I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish! +What majesty is in her gait? Remember, +If e'er thou look'dst on majesty. + +Messenger +She creeps: +Her motion and her station are as one; +She shows a body rather than a life, +A statue than a breather. + +CLEOPATRA +Is this certain? + +Messenger +Or I have no observance. + +CHARMIAN +Three in Egypt +Cannot make better note. + +CLEOPATRA +He's very knowing; +I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet: +The fellow has good judgment. + +CHARMIAN +Excellent. + +CLEOPATRA +Guess at her years, I prithee. + +Messenger +Madam, +She was a widow,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Widow! Charmian, hark. + +Messenger +And I do think she's thirty. + +CLEOPATRA +Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? + +Messenger +Round even to faultiness. + +CLEOPATRA +For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. +Her hair, what colour? + +Messenger +Brown, madam: and her forehead +As low as she would wish it. + +CLEOPATRA +There's gold for thee. +Thou must not take my former sharpness ill: +I will employ thee back again; I find thee +Most fit for business: go make thee ready; +Our letters are prepared. + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +A proper man. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed, he is so: I repent me much +That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, +This creature's no such thing. + +CHARMIAN +Nothing, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. + +CHARMIAN +Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, +And serving you so long! + +CLEOPATRA +I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian: +But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me +Where I will write. All may be well enough. + +CHARMIAN +I warrant you, madam. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA +MARK ANTONY +Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,-- +That were excusable, that, and thousands more +Of semblable import,--but he hath waged +New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it +To public ear: +Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not +But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly +He vented them; most narrow measure lent me: +When the best hint was given him, he not took't, +Or did it from his teeth. + +OCTAVIA +O my good lord, +Believe not all; or, if you must believe, +Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, +If this division chance, ne'er stood between, +Praying for both parts: +The good gods me presently, +When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!' +Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, +'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother, +Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway +'Twixt these extremes at all. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle Octavia, +Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks +Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour, +I lose myself: better I were not yours +Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, +Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady, +I'll raise the preparation of a war +Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste; +So your desires are yours. + +OCTAVIA +Thanks to my lord. +The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak, +Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be +As if the world should cleave, and that slain men +Should solder up the rift. + +MARK ANTONY +When it appears to you where this begins, +Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults +Can never be so equal, that your love +Can equally move with them. Provide your going; +Choose your own company, and command what cost +Your heart has mind to. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. Another room. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How now, friend Eros! + +EROS +There's strange news come, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What, man? + +EROS +Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This is old: what is the success? + +EROS +Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst +Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let +him partake in the glory of the action: and not +resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly +wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so +the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; +And throw between them all the food thou hast, +They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? + +EROS +He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns +The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!' +And threats the throat of that his officer +That murder'd Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Our great navy's rigg'd. + +EROS +For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; +My lord desires you presently: my news +I might have told hereafter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Twill be naught: +But let it be. Bring me to Antony. + +EROS +Come, sir. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more, +In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't: +I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd, +Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold +Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat +Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, +And all the unlawful issue that their lust +Since then hath made between them. Unto her +He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her +Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, +Absolute queen. + +MECAENAS +This in the public eye? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I' the common show-place, where they exercise. +His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings: +Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia. +He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd +Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she +In the habiliments of the goddess Isis +That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience, +As 'tis reported, so. + +MECAENAS +Let Rome be thus Inform'd. + +AGRIPPA +Who, queasy with his insolence +Already, will their good thoughts call from him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The people know it; and have now received +His accusations. + +AGRIPPA +Who does he accuse? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Caesar: and that, having in Sicily +Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him +His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me +Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets +That Lepidus of the triumvirate +Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain +All his revenue. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, this should be answer'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. +I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel; +That he his high authority abused, +And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd, +I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia, +And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I +Demand the like. + +MECAENAS +He'll never yield to that. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nor must not then be yielded to in this. + +Enter OCTAVIA with her train + +OCTAVIA +Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That ever I should call thee castaway! + +OCTAVIA +You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not +Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony +Should have an army for an usher, and +The neighs of horse to tell of her approach +Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way +Should have borne men; and expectation fainted, +Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust +Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, +Raised by your populous troops: but you are come +A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented +The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, +Is often left unloved; we should have met you +By sea and land; supplying every stage +With an augmented greeting. + +OCTAVIA +Good my lord, +To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did +On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, +Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted +My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd +His pardon for return. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which soon he granted, +Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him. + +OCTAVIA +Do not say so, my lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have eyes upon him, +And his affairs come to me on the wind. +Where is he now? + +OCTAVIA +My lord, in Athens. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra +Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire +Up to a whore; who now are levying +The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled +Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus, +Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king +Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; +King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont; +Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king +Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, +The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, +With a more larger list of sceptres. + +OCTAVIA +Ay me, most wretched, +That have my heart parted betwixt two friends +That do afflict each other! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome hither: +Your letters did withhold our breaking forth; +Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led, +And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart; +Be you not troubled with the time, which drives +O'er your content these strong necessities; +But let determined things to destiny +Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome; +Nothing more dear to me. You are abused +Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods, +To do you justice, make them ministers +Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort; +And ever welcome to us. + +AGRIPPA +Welcome, lady. + +MECAENAS +Welcome, dear madam. +Each heart in Rome does love and pity you: +Only the adulterous Antony, most large +In his abominations, turns you off; +And gives his potent regiment to a trull, +That noises it against us. + +OCTAVIA +Is it so, sir? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you, +Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +CLEOPATRA +I will be even with thee, doubt it not. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But why, why, why? + +CLEOPATRA +Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, +And say'st it is not fit. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well, is it, is it? + +CLEOPATRA +If not denounced against us, why should not we +Be there in person? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Well, I could reply: +If we should serve with horse and mares together, +The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear +A soldier and his horse. + +CLEOPATRA +What is't you say? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; +Take from his heart, take from his brain, +from's time, +What should not then be spared. He is already +Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome +That Photinus an eunuch and your maids +Manage this war. + +CLEOPATRA +Sink Rome, and their tongues rot +That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war, +And, as the president of my kingdom, will +Appear there for a man. Speak not against it: +I will not stay behind. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Nay, I have done. +Here comes the emperor. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS + +MARK ANTONY +Is it not strange, Canidius, +That from Tarentum and Brundusium +He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea, +And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet? + +CLEOPATRA +Celerity is never more admired +Than by the negligent. + +MARK ANTONY +A good rebuke, +Which might have well becomed the best of men, +To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we +Will fight with him by sea. + +CLEOPATRA +By sea! what else? + +CANIDIUS +Why will my lord do so? + +MARK ANTONY +For that he dares us to't. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +So hath my lord dared him to single fight. + +CANIDIUS +Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia. +Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers, +Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off; +And so should you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your ships are not well mann'd; +Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people +Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet +Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought: +Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace +Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, +Being prepared for land. + +MARK ANTONY +By sea, by sea. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Most worthy sir, you therein throw away +The absolute soldiership you have by land; +Distract your army, which doth most consist +Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted +Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego +The way which promises assurance; and +Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, +From firm security. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll fight at sea. + +CLEOPATRA +I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. + +MARK ANTONY +Our overplus of shipping will we burn; +And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium +Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail, +We then can do't at land. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy business? + +Messenger +The news is true, my lord; he is descried; +Caesar has taken Toryne. + +MARK ANTONY +Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible; +Strange that power should be. Canidius, +Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, +And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship: +Away, my Thetis! + +Enter a Soldier + +How now, worthy soldier? + +Soldier +O noble emperor, do not fight by sea; +Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt +This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians +And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we +Have used to conquer, standing on the earth, +And fighting foot to foot. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well: away! + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +Soldier +By Hercules, I think I am i' the right. + +CANIDIUS +Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows +Not in the power on't: so our leader's led, +And we are women's men. + +Soldier +You keep by land +The legions and the horse whole, do you not? + +CANIDIUS +Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, +Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea: +But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's +Carries beyond belief. + +Soldier +While he was yet in Rome, +His power went out in such distractions as +Beguiled all spies. + +CANIDIUS +Who's his lieutenant, hear you? + +Soldier +They say, one Taurus. + +CANIDIUS +Well I know the man. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The emperor calls Canidius. + +CANIDIUS +With news the time's with labour, and throes forth, +Each minute, some. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Taurus! + +TAURUS +My lord? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle, +Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed +The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies +Upon this jump. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. Another part of the plain. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +MARK ANTONY +Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill, +In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place +We may the number of the ships behold, +And so proceed accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. Another part of the plain. + +CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight + +Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer: +The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, +With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder: +To see't mine eyes are blasted. + +Enter SCARUS + +SCARUS +Gods and goddesses, +All the whole synod of them! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's thy passion! + +SCARUS +The greater cantle of the world is lost +With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away +Kingdoms and provinces. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How appears the fight? + +SCARUS +On our side like the token'd pestilence, +Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,-- +Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight, +When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, +Both as the same, or rather ours the elder, +The breese upon her, like a cow in June, +Hoists sails and flies. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That I beheld: +Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not +Endure a further view. + +SCARUS +She once being loof'd, +The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, +Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, +Leaving the fight in height, flies after her: +I never saw an action of such shame; +Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before +Did violate so itself. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, alack! + +Enter CANIDIUS + +CANIDIUS +Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, +And sinks most lamentably. Had our general +Been what he knew himself, it had gone well: +O, he has given example for our flight, +Most grossly, by his own! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, are you thereabouts? +Why, then, good night indeed. + +CANIDIUS +Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. + +SCARUS +'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend +What further comes. + +CANIDIUS +To Caesar will I render +My legions and my horse: six kings already +Show me the way of yielding. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll yet follow +The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason +Sits in the wind against me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants +MARK ANTONY +Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't; +It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither: +I am so lated in the world, that I +Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship +Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, +And make your peace with Caesar. + +All +Fly! not we. + +MARK ANTONY +I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards +To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; +I have myself resolved upon a course +Which has no need of you; be gone: +My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O, +I follow'd that I blush to look upon: +My very hairs do mutiny; for the white +Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them +For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall +Have letters from me to some friends that will +Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, +Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint +Which my despair proclaims; let that be left +Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway: +I will possess you of that ship and treasure. +Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now: +Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, +Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by. + +Sits down + +Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS following + +EROS +Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. + +IRAS +Do, most dear queen. + +CHARMIAN +Do! why: what else? + +CLEOPATRA +Let me sit down. O Juno! + +MARK ANTONY +No, no, no, no, no. + +EROS +See you here, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +O fie, fie, fie! + +CHARMIAN +Madam! + +IRAS +Madam, O good empress! + +EROS +Sir, sir,-- + +MARK ANTONY +Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept +His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck +The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I +That the mad Brutus ended: he alone +Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had +In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter. + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, stand by. + +EROS +The queen, my lord, the queen. + +IRAS +Go to him, madam, speak to him: +He is unqualitied with very shame. + +CLEOPATRA +Well then, sustain him: O! + +EROS +Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches: +Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but +Your comfort makes the rescue. + +MARK ANTONY +I have offended reputation, +A most unnoble swerving. + +EROS +Sir, the queen. + +MARK ANTONY +O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, +How I convey my shame out of thine eyes +By looking back what I have left behind +'Stroy'd in dishonour. + +CLEOPATRA +O my lord, my lord, +Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought +You would have follow'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Egypt, thou knew'st too well +My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, +And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit +Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that +Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods +Command me. + +CLEOPATRA +O, my pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Now I must +To the young man send humble treaties, dodge +And palter in the shifts of lowness; who +With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, +Making and marring fortunes. You did know +How much you were my conqueror; and that +My sword, made weak by my affection, would +Obey it on all cause. + +CLEOPATRA +Pardon, pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates +All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; +Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; +Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. +Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows +We scorn her most when most she offers blows. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him appear that's come from Antony. +Know you him? + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster: +An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither +He sends so poor a pinion off his wing, +Which had superfluous kings for messengers +Not many moons gone by. + +Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Approach, and speak. + +EUPHRONIUS +Such as I am, I come from Antony: +I was of late as petty to his ends +As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf +To his grand sea. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Be't so: declare thine office. + +EUPHRONIUS +Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and +Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted, +He lessens his requests; and to thee sues +To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, +A private man in Athens: this for him. +Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness; +Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves +The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, +Now hazarded to thy grace. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +For Antony, +I have no ears to his request. The queen +Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she +From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, +Or take his life there: this if she perform, +She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. + +EUPHRONIUS +Fortune pursue thee! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bring him through the bands. + +Exit EUPHRONIUS + +To THYREUS + +From Antony win Cleopatra: promise, +And in our name, what she requires; add more, +From thine invention, offers: women are not +In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure +The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus; +Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we +Will answer as a law. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I go. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, +And what thou think'st his very action speaks +In every power that moves. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +What shall we do, Enobarbus? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Think, and die. + +CLEOPATRA +Is Antony or we in fault for this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Antony only, that would make his will +Lord of his reason. What though you fled +From that great face of war, whose several ranges +Frighted each other? why should he follow? +The itch of his affection should not then +Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point, +When half to half the world opposed, he being +The meered question: 'twas a shame no less +Than was his loss, to course your flying flags, +And leave his navy gazing. + +CLEOPATRA +Prithee, peace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador + +MARK ANTONY +Is that his answer? + +EUPHRONIUS +Ay, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +The queen shall then have courtesy, so she +Will yield us up. + +EUPHRONIUS +He says so. + +MARK ANTONY +Let her know't. +To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, +And he will fill thy wishes to the brim +With principalities. + +CLEOPATRA +That head, my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +To him again: tell him he wears the rose +Of youth upon him; from which the world should note +Something particular: his coin, ships, legions, +May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail +Under the service of a child as soon +As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore +To lay his gay comparisons apart, +And answer me declined, sword against sword, +Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will +Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show, +Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are +A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward +Do draw the inward quality after them, +To suffer all alike. That he should dream, +Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will +Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued +His judgment too. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +A messenger from CAESAR. + +CLEOPATRA +What, no more ceremony? See, my women! +Against the blown rose may they stop their nose +That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. + +Exit Attendant + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square. +The loyalty well held to fools does make +Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure +To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord +Does conquer him that did his master conquer +And earns a place i' the story. + +Enter THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Caesar's will? + +THYREUS +Hear it apart. + +CLEOPATRA +None but friends: say boldly. + +THYREUS +So, haply, are they friends to Antony. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has; +Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master +Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, +Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's. + +THYREUS +So. +Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats, +Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, +Further than he is Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Go on: right royal. + +THYREUS +He knows that you embrace not Antony +As you did love, but as you fear'd him. + +CLEOPATRA +O! + +THYREUS +The scars upon your honour, therefore, he +Does pity, as constrained blemishes, +Not as deserved. + +CLEOPATRA +He is a god, and knows +What is most right: mine honour was not yielded, +But conquer'd merely. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] To be sure of that, +I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky, +That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for +Thy dearest quit thee. + +Exit + +THYREUS +Shall I say to Caesar +What you require of him? for he partly begs +To be desired to give. It much would please him, +That of his fortunes you should make a staff +To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits, +To hear from me you had left Antony, +And put yourself under his shrowd, +The universal landlord. + +CLEOPATRA +What's your name? + +THYREUS +My name is Thyreus. + +CLEOPATRA +Most kind messenger, +Say to great Caesar this: in deputation +I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt +To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel: +Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear +The doom of Egypt. + +THYREUS +'Tis your noblest course. +Wisdom and fortune combating together, +If that the former dare but what it can, +No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay +My duty on your hand. + +CLEOPATRA +Your Caesar's father oft, +When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, +Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place, +As it rain'd kisses. + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +MARK ANTONY +Favours, by Jove that thunders! +What art thou, fellow? + +THYREUS +One that but performs +The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest +To have command obey'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] You will be whipp'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods +and devils! +Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!' +Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, +And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am +Antony yet. + +Enter Attendants + +Take hence this Jack, and whip him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp +Than with an old one dying. + +MARK ANTONY +Moon and stars! +Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries +That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them +So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name, +Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, +Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face, +And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence. + +THYREUS +Mark Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Tug him away: being whipp'd, +Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall +Bear us an errand to him. + +Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS + +You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha! +Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, +Forborne the getting of a lawful race, +And by a gem of women, to be abused +By one that looks on feeders? + +CLEOPATRA +Good my lord,-- + +MARK ANTONY +You have been a boggler ever: +But when we in our viciousness grow hard-- +O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes; +In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us +Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut +To our confusion. + +CLEOPATRA +O, is't come to this? + +MARK ANTONY +I found you as a morsel cold upon +Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment +Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, +Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have +Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure, +Though you can guess what temperance should be, +You know not what it is. + +CLEOPATRA +Wherefore is this? + +MARK ANTONY +To let a fellow that will take rewards +And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with +My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal +And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were +Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar +The horned herd! for I have savage cause; +And to proclaim it civilly, were like +A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank +For being yare about him. + +Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS + +Is he whipp'd? + +First Attendant +Soundly, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? + +First Attendant +He did ask favour. + +MARK ANTONY +If that thy father live, let him repent +Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry +To follow Caesar in his triumph, since +Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth +The white hand of a lady fever thee, +Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar, +Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say +He makes me angry with him; for he seems +Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, +Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry; +And at this time most easy 'tis to do't, +When my good stars, that were my former guides, +Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires +Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike +My speech and what is done, tell him he has +Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom +He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, +As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou: +Hence with thy stripes, begone! + +Exit THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Have you done yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Alack, our terrene moon +Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone +The fall of Antony! + +CLEOPATRA +I must stay his time. + +MARK ANTONY +To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes +With one that ties his points? + +CLEOPATRA +Not know me yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Cold-hearted toward me? + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, dear, if I be so, +From my cold heart let heaven engender hail, +And poison it in the source; and the first stone +Drop in my neck: as it determines, so +Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite! +Till by degrees the memory of my womb, +Together with my brave Egyptians all, +By the discandying of this pelleted storm, +Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile +Have buried them for prey! + +MARK ANTONY +I am satisfied. +Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where +I will oppose his fate. Our force by land +Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too +Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like. +Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady? +If from the field I shall return once more +To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood; +I and my sword will earn our chronicle: +There's hope in't yet. + +CLEOPATRA +That's my brave lord! + +MARK ANTONY +I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed, +And fight maliciously: for when mine hours +Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives +Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth, +And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, +Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me +All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; +Let's mock the midnight bell. + +CLEOPATRA +It is my birth-day: +I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord +Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. + +MARK ANTONY +We will yet do well. + +CLEOPATRA +Call all his noble captains to my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force +The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; +There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, +I'll make death love me; for I will contend +Even with his pestilent scythe. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious, +Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood +The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, +A diminution in our captain's brain +Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason, +It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek +Some way to leave him. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power +To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger +He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, +Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know +I have many other ways to die; meantime +Laugh at his challenge. + +MECAENAS +Caesar must think, +When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted +Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now +Make boot of his distraction: never anger +Made good guard for itself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let our best heads +Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles +We mean to fight: within our files there are, +Of those that served Mark Antony but late, +Enough to fetch him in. See it done: +And feast the army; we have store to do't, +And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others +MARK ANTONY +He will not fight with me, Domitius. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No. + +MARK ANTONY +Why should he not? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, +He is twenty men to one. + +MARK ANTONY +To-morrow, soldier, +By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live, +Or bathe my dying honour in the blood +Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.' + +MARK ANTONY +Well said; come on. +Call forth my household servants: let's to-night +Be bounteous at our meal. + +Enter three or four Servitors + +Give me thy hand, +Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;-- +Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well, +And kings have been your fellows. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What means this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd +tricks which sorrow shoots +Out of the mind. + +MARK ANTONY +And thou art honest too. +I wish I could be made so many men, +And all of you clapp'd up together in +An Antony, that I might do you service +So good as you have done. + +All +The gods forbid! + +MARK ANTONY +Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: +Scant not my cups; and make as much of me +As when mine empire was your fellow too, +And suffer'd my command. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What does he mean? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep. + +MARK ANTONY +Tend me to-night; +May be it is the period of your duty: +Haply you shall not see me more; or if, +A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow +You'll serve another master. I look on you +As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, +I turn you not away; but, like a master +Married to your good service, stay till death: +Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, +And the gods yield you for't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What mean you, sir, +To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; +And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, +Transform us not to women. + +MARK ANTONY +Ho, ho, ho! +Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! +Grace grow where those drops fall! +My hearty friends, +You take me in too dolorous a sense; +For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you +To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, +I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you +Where rather I'll expect victorious life +Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come, +And drown consideration. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the palace. + +Enter two Soldiers to their guard +First Soldier +Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day. + +Second Soldier +It will determine one way: fare you well. +Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? + +First Soldier +Nothing. What news? + +Second Soldier +Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you. + +First Soldier +Well, sir, good night. + +Enter two other Soldiers + +Second Soldier +Soldiers, have careful watch. + +Third Soldier +And you. Good night, good night. + +They place themselves in every corner of the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Here we: and if to-morrow +Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope +Our landmen will stand up. + +Third Soldier +'Tis a brave army, +And full of purpose. + +Music of the hautboys as under the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Peace! what noise? + +First Soldier +List, list! + +Second Soldier +Hark! + +First Soldier +Music i' the air. + +Third Soldier +Under the earth. + +Fourth Soldier +It signs well, does it not? + +Third Soldier +No. + +First Soldier +Peace, I say! +What should this mean? + +Second Soldier +'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, +Now leaves him. + +First Soldier +Walk; let's see if other watchmen +Do hear what we do? + +They advance to another post + +Second Soldier +How now, masters! + +All +[Speaking together] How now! +How now! do you hear this? + +First Soldier +Ay; is't not strange? + +Third Soldier +Do you hear, masters? do you hear? + +First Soldier +Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; +Let's see how it will give off. + +All +Content. 'Tis strange. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A room in the palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and others attending +MARK ANTONY +Eros! mine armour, Eros! + +CLEOPATRA +Sleep a little. + +MARK ANTONY +No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros! + +Enter EROS with armour + +Come good fellow, put mine iron on: +If fortune be not ours to-day, it is +Because we brave her: come. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, I'll help too. +What's this for? + +MARK ANTONY +Ah, let be, let be! thou art +The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this. + +CLEOPATRA +Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well; +We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow? +Go put on thy defences. + +EROS +Briefly, sir. + +CLEOPATRA +Is not this buckled well? + +MARK ANTONY +Rarely, rarely: +He that unbuckles this, till we do please +To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm. +Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire +More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love, +That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st +The royal occupation! thou shouldst see +A workman in't. + +Enter an armed Soldier + +Good morrow to thee; welcome: +Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge: +To business that we love we rise betime, +And go to't with delight. + +Soldier +A thousand, sir, +Early though't be, have on their riveted trim, +And at the port expect you. + +Shout. Trumpets flourish + +Enter Captains and Soldiers + +Captain +The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. + +All +Good morrow, general. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis well blown, lads: +This morning, like the spirit of a youth +That means to be of note, begins betimes. +So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said. +Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me: +This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable + +Kisses her + +And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand +On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee +Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight, +Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers + +CHARMIAN +Please you, retire to your chamber. + +CLEOPATRA +Lead me. +He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might +Determine this great war in single fight! +Then Antony,--but now--Well, on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a Soldier meeting them +Soldier +The gods make this a happy day to Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd +To make me fight at land! + +Soldier +Hadst thou done so, +The kings that have revolted, and the soldier +That has this morning left thee, would have still +Follow'd thy heels. + +MARK ANTONY +Who's gone this morning? + +Soldier +Who! +One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus, +He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp +Say 'I am none of thine.' + +MARK ANTONY +What say'st thou? + +Soldier +Sir, +He is with Caesar. + +EROS +Sir, his chests and treasure +He has not with him. + +MARK ANTONY +Is he gone? + +Soldier +Most certain. + +MARK ANTONY +Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; +Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him-- +I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings; +Say that I wish he never find more cause +To change a master. O, my fortunes have +Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight: +Our will is Antony be took alive; +Make it so known. + +AGRIPPA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The time of universal peace is near: +Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world +Shall bear the olive freely. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Antony +Is come into the field. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go charge Agrippa +Plant those that have revolted in the van, +That Antony may seem to spend his fury +Upon himself. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on +Affairs of Antony; there did persuade +Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, +And leave his master Antony: for this pains +Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest +That fell away have entertainment, but +No honourable trust. I have done ill; +Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, +That I will joy no more. + +Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's + +Soldier +Enobarbus, Antony +Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with +His bounty overplus: the messenger +Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now +Unloading of his mules. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I give it you. + +Soldier +Mock not, Enobarbus. +I tell you true: best you safed the bringer +Out of the host; I must attend mine office, +Or would have done't myself. Your emperor +Continues still a Jove. + +Exit + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I am alone the villain of the earth, +And feel I am so most. O Antony, +Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid +My better service, when my turpitude +Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart: +If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean +Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel. +I fight against thee! No: I will go seek +Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits +My latter part of life. + +Exit + +SCENE VII. Field of battle between the camps. + +Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA and others +AGRIPPA +Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: +Caesar himself has work, and our oppression +Exceeds what we expected. + +Exeunt + +Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded + +SCARUS +O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! +Had we done so at first, we had droven them home +With clouts about their heads. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou bleed'st apace. + +SCARUS +I had a wound here that was like a T, +But now 'tis made an H. + +MARK ANTONY +They do retire. + +SCARUS +We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet +Room for six scotches more. + +Enter EROS + +EROS +They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves +For a fair victory. + +SCARUS +Let us score their backs, +And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: +'Tis sport to maul a runner. + +MARK ANTONY +I will reward thee +Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold +For thy good valour. Come thee on. + +SCARUS +I'll halt after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. Under the walls of Alexandria. + +Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS, with others +MARK ANTONY +We have beat him to his camp: run one before, +And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, +Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood +That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; +For doughty-handed are you, and have fought +Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been +Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors. +Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, +Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears +Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss +The honour'd gashes whole. + +To SCARUS + +Give me thy hand + +Enter CLEOPATRA, attended + +To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, +Make her thanks bless thee. + +To CLEOPATRA + +O thou day o' the world, +Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, +Through proof of harness to my heart, and there +Ride on the pants triumphing! + +CLEOPATRA +Lord of lords! +O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from +The world's great snare uncaught? + +MARK ANTONY +My nightingale, +We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! +though grey +Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we +A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can +Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; +Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: +Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day +As if a god, in hate of mankind, had +Destroy'd in such a shape. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll give thee, friend, +An armour all of gold; it was a king's. + +MARK ANTONY +He has deserved it, were it carbuncled +Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand: +Through Alexandria make a jolly march; +Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: +Had our great palace the capacity +To camp this host, we all would sup together, +And drink carouses to the next day's fate, +Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, +With brazen din blast you the city's ear; +Make mingle with rattling tabourines; +That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, +Applauding our approach. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Sentinels at their post +First Soldier +If we be not relieved within this hour, +We must return to the court of guard: the night +Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle +By the second hour i' the morn. + +Second Soldier +This last day was +A shrewd one to's. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, bear me witness, night,-- + +Third Soldier +What man is this? + +Second Soldier +Stand close, and list him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, +When men revolted shall upon record +Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did +Before thy face repent! + +First Soldier +Enobarbus! + +Third Soldier +Peace! +Hark further. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, +The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, +That life, a very rebel to my will, +May hang no longer on me: throw my heart +Against the flint and hardness of my fault: +Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, +And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, +Nobler than my revolt is infamous, +Forgive me in thine own particular; +But let the world rank me in register +A master-leaver and a fugitive: +O Antony! O Antony! + +Dies + +Second Soldier +Let's speak To him. + +First Soldier +Let's hear him, for the things he speaks +May concern Caesar. + +Third Soldier +Let's do so. But he sleeps. + +First Soldier +Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his +Was never yet for sleep. + +Second Soldier +Go we to him. + +Third Soldier +Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. + +Second Soldier +Hear you, sir? + +First Soldier +The hand of death hath raught him. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! the drums +Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him +To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour +Is fully out. + +Third Soldier +Come on, then; +He may recover yet. + +Exeunt with the body + +SCENE X. Between the two camps. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army +MARK ANTONY +Their preparation is to-day by sea; +We please them not by land. + +SCARUS +For both, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air; +We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot +Upon the hills adjoining to the city +Shall stay with us: order for sea is given; +They have put forth the haven +Where their appointment we may best discover, +And look on their endeavour. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Another part of the same. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +But being charged, we will be still by land, +Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force +Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, +And hold our best advantage. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Another part of the same. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS +MARK ANTONY +Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine +does stand, +I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word +Straight, how 'tis like to go. + +Exit + +SCARUS +Swallows have built +In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers +Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, +And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony +Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts, +His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear, +Of what he has, and has not. + +Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +All is lost; +This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me: +My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder +They cast their caps up and carouse together +Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! +'tis thou +Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart +Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly; +For when I am revenged upon my charm, +I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. + +Exit SCARUS + +O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more: +Fortune and Antony part here; even here +Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts +That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave +Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets +On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd, +That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am: +O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,-- +Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home; +Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,-- +Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, +Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. +What, Eros, Eros! + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! + +CLEOPATRA +Why is my lord enraged against his love? + +MARK ANTONY +Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, +And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, +And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians: +Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot +Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown +For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let +Patient Octavia plough thy visage up +With her prepared nails. + +Exit CLEOPATRA + +'Tis well thou'rt gone, +If it be well to live; but better 'twere +Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death +Might have prevented many. Eros, ho! +The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me, +Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: +Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon; +And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club, +Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die: +To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall +Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho! + +Exit + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Help me, my women! O, he is more mad +Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly +Was never so emboss'd. + +CHARMIAN +To the monument! +There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. +The soul and body rive not more in parting +Than greatness going off. + +CLEOPATRA +To the monument! +Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; +Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,' +And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian, +And bring me how he takes my death. +To the monument! + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIV. The same. Another room. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS +MARK ANTONY +Eros, thou yet behold'st me? + +EROS +Ay, noble lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; +A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, +A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, +A forked mountain, or blue promontory +With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, +And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen +these signs; +They are black vesper's pageants. + +EROS +Ay, my lord, + +MARK ANTONY +That which is now a horse, even with a thought +The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, +As water is in water. + +EROS +It does, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +My good knave Eros, now thy captain is +Even such a body: here I am Antony: +Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. +I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,-- +Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; +Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't +A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has +Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory +Unto an enemy's triumph. +Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us +Ourselves to end ourselves. + +Enter MARDIAN + +O! thy vile lady! +She has robb'd me of my sword. + +MARDIAN +No, Antony; +My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled +With thine entirely. + +MARK ANTONY +Hence, saucy eunuch; peace! +She hath betray'd me and shall die the death. + +MARDIAN +Death of one person can be paid but once, +And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do +Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake +Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!' +Then in the midst a tearing groan did break +The name of Antony; it was divided +Between her heart and lips: she render'd life, +Thy name so buried in her. + +MARK ANTONY +Dead, then? + +MARDIAN +Dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, +And we must sleep. + +To MARDIAN + +That thou depart'st hence safe, +Does pay thy labour richly; go. + +Exit MARDIAN + +Off, pluck off: +The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep +The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! +Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, +Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace. +No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; +You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. + +Exit EROS + +I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and +Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now +All length is torture: since the torch is out, +Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour +Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles +Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done. +Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me: +Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, +And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: +Dido and her AEneas shall want troops, +And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros! + +Re-enter EROS + +EROS +What would my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +Since Cleopatra died, +I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods +Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword +Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back +With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack +The courage of a woman; less noble mind +Than she which by her death our Caesar tells +'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros, +That, when the exigent should come, which now +Is come indeed, when I should see behind me +The inevitable prosecution of +Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, +Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come: +Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. +Put colour in thy cheek. + +EROS +The gods withhold me! +Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, +Though enemy, lost aim, and could not? + +MARK ANTONY +Eros, +Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see +Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down +His corrigible neck, his face subdued +To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat +Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded +His baseness that ensued? + +EROS +I would not see't. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. +Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn +Most useful for thy country. + +EROS +O, sir, pardon me! + +MARK ANTONY +When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then +To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once; +Or thy precedent services are all +But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. + +EROS +Turn from me, then, that noble countenance, +Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. + +MARK ANTONY +Lo thee! + +Turning from him + +EROS +My sword is drawn. + +MARK ANTONY +Then let it do at once +The thing why thou hast drawn it. + +EROS +My dear master, +My captain, and my emperor, let me say, +Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis said, man; and farewell. + +EROS +Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? + +MARK ANTONY +Now, Eros. + +EROS +Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow +Of Antony's death. + +Kills himself + +MARK ANTONY +Thrice-nobler than myself! +Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what +I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros +Have by their brave instruction got upon me +A nobleness in record: but I will be +A bridegroom in my death, and run into't +As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, +Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus + +Falling on his sword + +I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? +The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! + +Enter DERCETAS and Guard + +First Guard +What's the noise? + +MARK ANTONY +I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end +Of what I have begun. + +Second Guard +The star is fall'n. + +First Guard +And time is at his period. + +All +Alas, and woe! + +MARK ANTONY +Let him that loves me strike me dead. + +First Guard +Not I. + +Second Guard +Nor I. + +Third Guard +Nor any one. + +Exeunt Guard + +DERCETAS +Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. +This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, +Shall enter me with him. + +Enter DIOMEDES + +DIOMEDES +Where's Antony? + +DERCETAS +There, Diomed there. + +DIOMEDES +Lives he? +Wilt thou not answer, man? + +Exit DERCETAS + +MARK ANTONY +Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me +Sufficing strokes for death. + +DIOMEDES +Most absolute lord, +My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. + +MARK ANTONY +When did she send thee? + +DIOMEDES +Now, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Where is she? + +DIOMEDES +Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear +Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw-- +Which never shall be found--you did suspect +She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage +Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead; +But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent +Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, +I dread, too late. + +MARK ANTONY +Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. + +DIOMEDES +What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! +Come, your lord calls! + +Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; +'Tis the last service that I shall command you. + +First Guard +Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear +All your true followers out. + +All +Most heavy day! + +MARK ANTONY +Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate +To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome +Which comes to punish us, and we punish it +Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: +I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends, +And have my thanks for all. + +Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY + +SCENE XV. The same. A monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, I will never go from hence. + +CHARMIAN +Be comforted, dear madam. + +CLEOPATRA +No, I will not: +All strange and terrible events are welcome, +But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, +Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great +As that which makes it. + +Enter, below, DIOMEDES + +How now! is he dead? + +DIOMEDES +His death's upon him, but not dead. +Look out o' the other side your monument; +His guard have brought him thither. + +Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard + +CLEOPATRA +O sun, +Burn the great sphere thou movest in! +darkling stand +The varying shore o' the world. O Antony, +Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; +Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. + +MARK ANTONY +Peace! +Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, +But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. + +CLEOPATRA +So it should be, that none but Antony +Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying; only +I here importune death awhile, until +Of many thousand kisses the poor last +I lay up thy lips. + +CLEOPATRA +I dare not, dear,-- +Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not, +Lest I be taken: not the imperious show +Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall +Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, +serpents, have +Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: +Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes +And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour +Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,-- +Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up: +Assist, good friends. + +MARK ANTONY +O, quick, or I am gone. + +CLEOPATRA +Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! +Our strength is all gone into heaviness, +That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, +The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, +And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,-- +Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come; + +They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA + +And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: +Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, +Thus would I wear them out. + +All +A heavy sight! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying: +Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. + +CLEOPATRA +No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, +That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, +Provoked by my offence. + +MARK ANTONY +One word, sweet queen: +Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! + +CLEOPATRA +They do not go together. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle, hear me: +None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +My resolution and my hands I'll trust; +None about Caesar. + +MARK ANTONY +The miserable change now at my end +Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts +In feeding them with those my former fortunes +Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world, +The noblest; and do now not basely die, +Not cowardly put off my helmet to +My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman +Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; +I can no more. + +CLEOPATRA +Noblest of men, woo't die? +Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide +In this dull world, which in thy absence is +No better than a sty? O, see, my women, + +MARK ANTONY dies + +The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord! +O, wither'd is the garland of the war, +The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls +Are level now with men; the odds is gone, +And there is nothing left remarkable +Beneath the visiting moon. + +Faints + +CHARMIAN +O, quietness, lady! + +IRAS +She is dead too, our sovereign. + +CHARMIAN +Lady! + +IRAS +Madam! + +CHARMIAN +O madam, madam, madam! + +IRAS +Royal Egypt, Empress! + +CHARMIAN +Peace, peace, Iras! + +CLEOPATRA +No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded +By such poor passion as the maid that milks +And does the meanest chares. It were for me +To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; +To tell them that this world did equal theirs +Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; +Patience is scottish, and impatience does +Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin +To rush into the secret house of death, +Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? +What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! +My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, +Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart: +We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, +what's noble, +Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, +And make death proud to take us. Come, away: +This case of that huge spirit now is cold: +Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend +But resolution, and the briefest end. + +Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; +Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks +The pauses that he makes. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest +Appear thus to us? + +DERCETAS +I am call'd Dercetas; +Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy +Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, +He was my master; and I wore my life +To spend upon his haters. If thou please +To take me to thee, as I was to him +I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, +I yield thee up my life. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What is't thou say'st? + +DERCETAS +I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The breaking of so great a thing should make +A greater crack: the round world +Should have shook lions into civil streets, +And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony +Is not a single doom; in the name lay +A moiety of the world. + +DERCETAS +He is dead, Caesar: +Not by a public minister of justice, +Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, +Which writ his honour in the acts it did, +Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, +Splitted the heart. This is his sword; +I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd +With his most noble blood. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Look you sad, friends? +The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings +To wash the eyes of kings. + +AGRIPPA +And strange it is, +That nature must compel us to lament +Our most persisted deeds. + +MECAENAS +His taints and honours +Waged equal with him. + +AGRIPPA +A rarer spirit never +Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us +Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd. + +MECAENAS +When such a spacious mirror's set before him, +He needs must see himself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O Antony! +I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance +Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce +Have shown to thee such a declining day, +Or look on thine; we could not stall together +In the whole world: but yet let me lament, +With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, +That thou, my brother, my competitor +In top of all design, my mate in empire, +Friend and companion in the front of war, +The arm of mine own body, and the heart +Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars, +Unreconciliable, should divide +Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- +But I will tell you at some meeter season: + +Enter an Egyptian + +The business of this man looks out of him; +We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? + +Egyptian +A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, +Confined in all she has, her monument, +Of thy intents desires instruction, +That she preparedly may frame herself +To the way she's forced to. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bid her have good heart: +She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, +How honourable and how kindly we +Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live +To be ungentle. + +Egyptian +So the gods preserve thee! + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, +We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts +The quality of her passion shall require, +Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke +She do defeat us; for her life in Rome +Would be eternal in our triumph: go, +And with your speediest bring us what she says, +And how you find of her. + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Gallus, go you along. + +Exit GALLUS + +Where's Dolabella, +To second Proculeius? + +All +Dolabella! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him alone, for I remember now +How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready. +Go with me to my tent; where you shall see +How hardly I was drawn into this war; +How calm and gentle I proceeded still +In all my writings: go with me, and see +What I can show in this. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. A room in the monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +My desolation does begin to make +A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; +Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, +A minister of her will: and it is great +To do that thing that ends all other deeds; +Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; +Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, +The beggar's nurse and Caesar's. + +Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS and Soldiers + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; +And bids thee study on what fair demands +Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. + +CLEOPATRA +What's thy name? + +PROCULEIUS +My name is Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +Antony +Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but +I do not greatly care to be deceived, +That have no use for trusting. If your master +Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, +That majesty, to keep decorum, must +No less beg than a kingdom: if he please +To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son, +He gives me so much of mine own, as I +Will kneel to him with thanks. + +PROCULEIUS +Be of good cheer; +You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing: +Make your full reference freely to my lord, +Who is so full of grace, that it flows over +On all that need: let me report to him +Your sweet dependency; and you shall find +A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, +Where he for grace is kneel'd to. + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, tell him +I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him +The greatness he has got. I hourly learn +A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly +Look him i' the face. + +PROCULEIUS +This I'll report, dear lady. +Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied +Of him that caused it. + +GALLUS +You see how easily she may be surprised: + +Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates + +To PROCULEIUS and the Guard + +Guard her till Caesar come. + +Exit + +IRAS +Royal queen! + +CHARMIAN +O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen: + +CLEOPATRA +Quick, quick, good hands. + +Drawing a dagger + +PROCULEIUS +Hold, worthy lady, hold: + +Seizes and disarms her + +Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this +Relieved, but not betray'd. + +CLEOPATRA +What, of death too, +That rids our dogs of languish? + +PROCULEIUS +Cleopatra, +Do not abuse my master's bounty by +The undoing of yourself: let the world see +His nobleness well acted, which your death +Will never let come forth. + +CLEOPATRA +Where art thou, death? +Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen +Worthy many babes and beggars! + +PROCULEIUS +O, temperance, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; +If idle talk will once be necessary, +I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, +Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I +Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; +Nor once be chastised with the sober eye +Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up +And show me to the shouting varletry +Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt +Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud +Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies +Blow me into abhorring! rather make +My country's high pyramides my gibbet, +And hang me up in chains! + +PROCULEIUS +You do extend +These thoughts of horror further than you shall +Find cause in Caesar. + +Enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Proculeius, +What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, +And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, +I'll take her to my guard. + +PROCULEIUS +So, Dolabella, +It shall content me best: be gentle to her. + +To CLEOPATRA + +To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, +If you'll employ me to him. + +CLEOPATRA +Say, I would die. + +Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers + +DOLABELLA +Most noble empress, you have heard of me? + +CLEOPATRA +I cannot tell. + +DOLABELLA +Assuredly you know me. + +CLEOPATRA +No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. +You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; +Is't not your trick? + +DOLABELLA +I understand not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: +O, such another sleep, that I might see +But such another man! + +DOLABELLA +If it might please ye,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck +A sun and moon, which kept their course, +and lighted +The little O, the earth. + +DOLABELLA +Most sovereign creature,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm +Crested the world: his voice was propertied +As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; +But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, +He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, +There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas +That grew the more by reaping: his delights +Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above +The element they lived in: in his livery +Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were +As plates dropp'd from his pocket. + +DOLABELLA +Cleopatra! + +CLEOPATRA +Think you there was, or might be, such a man +As this I dream'd of? + +DOLABELLA +Gentle madam, no. + +CLEOPATRA +You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. +But, if there be, or ever were, one such, +It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff +To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine +And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, +Condemning shadows quite. + +DOLABELLA +Hear me, good madam. +Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it +As answering to the weight: would I might never +O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, +By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites +My very heart at root. + +CLEOPATRA +I thank you, sir, +Know you what Caesar means to do with me? + +DOLABELLA +I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, sir,-- + +DOLABELLA +Though he be honourable,-- + +CLEOPATRA +He'll lead me, then, in triumph? + +DOLABELLA +Madam, he will; I know't. + +Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there: Octavius Caesar!' + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which is the Queen of Egypt? + +DOLABELLA +It is the emperor, madam. + +CLEOPATRA kneels + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Arise, you shall not kneel: +I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, the gods +Will have it thus; my master and my lord +I must obey. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take to you no hard thoughts: +The record of what injuries you did us, +Though written in our flesh, we shall remember +As things but done by chance. + +CLEOPATRA +Sole sir o' the world, +I cannot project mine own cause so well +To make it clear; but do confess I have +Been laden with like frailties which before +Have often shamed our sex. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, know, +We will extenuate rather than enforce: +If you apply yourself to our intents, +Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find +A benefit in this change; but if you seek +To lay on me a cruelty, by taking +Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself +Of my good purposes, and put your children +To that destruction which I'll guard them from, +If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. + +CLEOPATRA +And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, +Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall +Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. + +CLEOPATRA +This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, +I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; +Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? + +SELEUCUS +Here, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, +Upon his peril, that I have reserved +To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. + +SELEUCUS +Madam, +I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, +Speak that which is not. + +CLEOPATRA +What have I kept back? + +SELEUCUS +Enough to purchase what you have made known. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve +Your wisdom in the deed. + +CLEOPATRA +See, Caesar! O, behold, +How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours; +And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. +The ingratitude of this Seleucus does +Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust +Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt +Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, +Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! +O rarely base! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good queen, let us entreat you. + +CLEOPATRA +O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, +That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, +Doing the honour of thy lordliness +To one so meek, that mine own servant should +Parcel the sum of my disgraces by +Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, +That I some lady trifles have reserved, +Immoment toys, things of such dignity +As we greet modern friends withal; and say, +Some nobler token I have kept apart +For Livia and Octavia, to induce +Their mediation; must I be unfolded +With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me +Beneath the fall I have. + +To SELEUCUS + +Prithee, go hence; +Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits +Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, +Thou wouldst have mercy on me. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Forbear, Seleucus. + +Exit SELEUCUS + +CLEOPATRA +Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought +For things that others do; and, when we fall, +We answer others' merits in our name, +Are therefore to be pitied. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, +Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, +Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours, +Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, +Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you +Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; +Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; +For we intend so to dispose you as +Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: +Our care and pity is so much upon you, +That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. + +CLEOPATRA +My master, and my lord! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not so. Adieu. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train + +CLEOPATRA +He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not +Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. + +Whispers CHARMIAN + +IRAS +Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, +And we are for the dark. + +CLEOPATRA +Hie thee again: +I have spoke already, and it is provided; +Go put it to the haste. + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I will. + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Behold, sir. + +Exit + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella! + +DOLABELLA +Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, +Which my love makes religion to obey, +I tell you this: Caesar through Syria +Intends his journey; and within three days +You with your children will he send before: +Make your best use of this: I have perform'd +Your pleasure and my promise. + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella, +I shall remain your debtor. + +DOLABELLA +I your servant, +Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell, and thanks. + +Exit DOLABELLA + +Now, Iras, what think'st thou? +Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown +In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves +With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall +Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, +Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, +And forced to drink their vapour. + +IRAS +The gods forbid! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors +Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers +Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians +Extemporally will stage us, and present +Our Alexandrian revels; Antony +Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see +Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness +I' the posture of a whore. + +IRAS +O the good gods! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, that's certain. + +IRAS +I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails +Are stronger than mine eyes. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, that's the way +To fool their preparation, and to conquer +Their most absurd intents. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN + +Now, Charmian! +Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch +My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, +To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. +Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed; +And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave +To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. +Wherefore's this noise? + +Exit IRAS. A noise within + +Enter a Guardsman + +Guard +Here is a rural fellow +That will not be denied your highness presence: +He brings you figs. + +CLEOPATRA +Let him come in. + +Exit Guardsman + +What poor an instrument +May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. +My resolution's placed, and I have nothing +Of woman in me: now from head to foot +I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon +No planet is of mine. + +Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket + +Guard +This is the man. + +CLEOPATRA +Avoid, and leave him. + +Exit Guardsman + +Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, +That kills and pains not? + +Clown +Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party +that should desire you to touch him, for his biting +is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or +never recover. + +CLEOPATRA +Rememberest thou any that have died on't? + +Clown +Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of +them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, +but something given to lie; as a woman should not +do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the +biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes +a very good report o' the worm; but he that will +believe all that they say, shall never be saved by +half that they do: but this is most fallible, the +worm's an odd worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Get thee hence; farewell. + +Clown +I wish you all joy of the worm. + +Setting down his basket + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell. + +Clown +You must think this, look you, that the worm will +do his kind. + +CLEOPATRA +Ay, ay; farewell. + +Clown +Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the +keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no +goodness in worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. + +Clown +Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is +not worth the feeding. + +CLEOPATRA +Will it eat me? + +Clown +You must not think I am so simple but I know the +devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a +woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her +not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the +gods great harm in their women; for in every ten +that they make, the devils mar five. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, get thee gone; farewell. + +Clown +Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm. + +Exit + +Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, & c + +CLEOPATRA +Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have +Immortal longings in me: now no more +The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: +Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear +Antony call; I see him rouse himself +To praise my noble act; I hear him mock +The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men +To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: +Now to that name my courage prove my title! +I am fire and air; my other elements +I give to baser life. So; have you done? +Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. +Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. + +Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies + +Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? +If thou and nature can so gently part, +The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, +Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? +If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world +It is not worth leave-taking. + +CHARMIAN +Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, +The gods themselves do weep! + +CLEOPATRA +This proves me base: +If she first meet the curled Antony, +He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss +Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou +mortal wretch, + +To an asp, which she applies to her breast + +With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate +Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool +Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, +That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass +Unpolicied! + +CHARMIAN +O eastern star! + +CLEOPATRA +Peace, peace! +Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, +That sucks the nurse asleep? + +CHARMIAN +O, break! O, break! + +CLEOPATRA +As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- +O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too. + +Applying another asp to her arm + +What should I stay-- + +Dies + +CHARMIAN +In this vile world? So, fare thee well. +Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies +A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; +And golden Phoebus never be beheld +Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; +I'll mend it, and then play. + +Enter the Guard, rushing in + +First Guard +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Speak softly, wake her not. + +First Guard +Caesar hath sent-- + +CHARMIAN +Too slow a messenger. + +Applies an asp + +O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. + +First Guard +Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled. + +Second Guard +There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him. + +First Guard +What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? + +CHARMIAN +It is well done, and fitting for a princess +Descended of so many royal kings. +Ah, soldier! + +Dies + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +How goes it here? + +Second Guard +All dead. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, thy thoughts +Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming +To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou +So sought'st to hinder. + +Within 'A way there, a way for Caesar!' + +Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching + +DOLABELLA +O sir, you are too sure an augurer; +That you did fear is done. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bravest at the last, +She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, +Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? +I do not see them bleed. + +DOLABELLA +Who was last with them? + +First Guard +A simple countryman, that brought her figs: +This was his basket. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Poison'd, then. + +First Guard +O Caesar, +This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake: +I found her trimming up the diadem +On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood +And on the sudden dropp'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O noble weakness! +If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear +By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, +As she would catch another Antony +In her strong toil of grace. + +DOLABELLA +Here, on her breast, +There is a vent of blood and something blown: +The like is on her arm. + +First Guard +This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves +Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves +Upon the caves of Nile. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most probable +That so she died; for her physician tells me +She hath pursued conclusions infinite +Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed; +And bear her women from the monument: +She shall be buried by her Antony: +No grave upon the earth shall clip in it +A pair so famous. High events as these +Strike those that make them; and their story is +No less in pity than his glory which +Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall +In solemn show attend this funeral; +And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see +High order in this great solemnity. + +Exeunt +The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark +Shakespeare homepage | Hamlet | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. + +FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO +BERNARDO +Who's there? + +FRANCISCO +Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. + +BERNARDO +Long live the king! + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo? + +BERNARDO +He. + +FRANCISCO +You come most carefully upon your hour. + +BERNARDO +'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. + +FRANCISCO +For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, +And I am sick at heart. + +BERNARDO +Have you had quiet guard? + +FRANCISCO +Not a mouse stirring. + +BERNARDO +Well, good night. +If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, +The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. + +FRANCISCO +I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there? + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +HORATIO +Friends to this ground. + +MARCELLUS +And liegemen to the Dane. + +FRANCISCO +Give you good night. + +MARCELLUS +O, farewell, honest soldier: +Who hath relieved you? + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo has my place. +Give you good night. + +Exit + +MARCELLUS +Holla! Bernardo! + +BERNARDO +Say, +What, is Horatio there? + +HORATIO +A piece of him. + +BERNARDO +Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? + +BERNARDO +I have seen nothing. + +MARCELLUS +Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, +And will not let belief take hold of him +Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: +Therefore I have entreated him along +With us to watch the minutes of this night; +That if again this apparition come, +He may approve our eyes and speak to it. + +HORATIO +Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. + +BERNARDO +Sit down awhile; +And let us once again assail your ears, +That are so fortified against our story +What we have two nights seen. + +HORATIO +Well, sit we down, +And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. + +BERNARDO +Last night of all, +When yond same star that's westward from the pole +Had made his course to illume that part of heaven +Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, +The bell then beating one,-- + +Enter Ghost + +MARCELLUS +Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! + +BERNARDO +In the same figure, like the king that's dead. + +MARCELLUS +Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. + +BERNARDO +Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder. + +BERNARDO +It would be spoke to. + +MARCELLUS +Question it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, +Together with that fair and warlike form +In which the majesty of buried Denmark +Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak! + +MARCELLUS +It is offended. + +BERNARDO +See, it stalks away! + +HORATIO +Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! + +Exit Ghost + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone, and will not answer. + +BERNARDO +How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: +Is not this something more than fantasy? +What think you on't? + +HORATIO +Before my God, I might not this believe +Without the sensible and true avouch +Of mine own eyes. + +MARCELLUS +Is it not like the king? + +HORATIO +As thou art to thyself: +Such was the very armour he had on +When he the ambitious Norway combated; +So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, +He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. +'Tis strange. + +MARCELLUS +Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, +With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. + +HORATIO +In what particular thought to work I know not; +But in the gross and scope of my opinion, +This bodes some strange eruption to our state. + +MARCELLUS +Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, +Why this same strict and most observant watch +So nightly toils the subject of the land, +And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, +And foreign mart for implements of war; +Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task +Does not divide the Sunday from the week; +What might be toward, that this sweaty haste +Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: +Who is't that can inform me? + +HORATIO +That can I; +At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, +Whose image even but now appear'd to us, +Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, +Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride, +Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet-- +For so this side of our known world esteem'd him-- +Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact, +Well ratified by law and heraldry, +Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands +Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: +Against the which, a moiety competent +Was gaged by our king; which had return'd +To the inheritance of Fortinbras, +Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant, +And carriage of the article design'd, +His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, +Of unimproved mettle hot and full, +Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there +Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes, +For food and diet, to some enterprise +That hath a stomach in't; which is no other-- +As it doth well appear unto our state-- +But to recover of us, by strong hand +And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands +So by his father lost: and this, I take it, +Is the main motive of our preparations, +The source of this our watch and the chief head +Of this post-haste and romage in the land. + +BERNARDO +I think it be no other but e'en so: +Well may it sort that this portentous figure +Comes armed through our watch; so like the king +That was and is the question of these wars. + +HORATIO +A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. +In the most high and palmy state of Rome, +A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, +The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead +Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: +As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, +Disasters in the sun; and the moist star +Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands +Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: +And even the like precurse of fierce events, +As harbingers preceding still the fates +And prologue to the omen coming on, +Have heaven and earth together demonstrated +Unto our climatures and countrymen.-- +But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! + +Re-enter Ghost + +I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion! +If thou hast any sound, or use of voice, +Speak to me: +If there be any good thing to be done, +That may to thee do ease and grace to me, +Speak to me: + +Cock crows + +If thou art privy to thy country's fate, +Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! +Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life +Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, +For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, +Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +Shall I strike at it with my partisan? + +HORATIO +Do, if it will not stand. + +BERNARDO +'Tis here! + +HORATIO +'Tis here! + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone! + +Exit Ghost + +We do it wrong, being so majestical, +To offer it the show of violence; +For it is, as the air, invulnerable, +And our vain blows malicious mockery. + +BERNARDO +It was about to speak, when the cock crew. + +HORATIO +And then it started like a guilty thing +Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, +The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, +Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat +Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, +Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, +The extravagant and erring spirit hies +To his confine: and of the truth herein +This present object made probation. + +MARCELLUS +It faded on the crowing of the cock. +Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes +Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, +The bird of dawning singeth all night long: +And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; +The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, +No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, +So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. + +HORATIO +So have I heard and do in part believe it. +But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, +Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill: +Break we our watch up; and by my advice, +Let us impart what we have seen to-night +Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, +This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. +Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, +As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? + +MARCELLUS +Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know +Where we shall find him most conveniently. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room of state in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death +The memory be green, and that it us befitted +To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom +To be contracted in one brow of woe, +Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature +That we with wisest sorrow think on him, +Together with remembrance of ourselves. +Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, +The imperial jointress to this warlike state, +Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-- +With an auspicious and a dropping eye, +With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, +In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-- +Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd +Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone +With this affair along. For all, our thanks. +Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, +Holding a weak supposal of our worth, +Or thinking by our late dear brother's death +Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, +Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, +He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, +Importing the surrender of those lands +Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, +To our most valiant brother. So much for him. +Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: +Thus much the business is: we have here writ +To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-- +Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears +Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress +His further gait herein; in that the levies, +The lists and full proportions, are all made +Out of his subject: and we here dispatch +You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, +For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; +Giving to you no further personal power +To business with the king, more than the scope +Of these delated articles allow. +Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. + +CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND +In that and all things will we show our duty. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? +You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? +You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, +And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, +That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? +The head is not more native to the heart, +The hand more instrumental to the mouth, +Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. +What wouldst thou have, Laertes? + +LAERTES +My dread lord, +Your leave and favour to return to France; +From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, +To show my duty in your coronation, +Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, +My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France +And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? + +LORD POLONIUS +He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave +By laboursome petition, and at last +Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: +I do beseech you, give him leave to go. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, +And thy best graces spend it at thy will! +But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-- + +HAMLET +[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How is it that the clouds still hang on you? + +HAMLET +Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, +And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. +Do not for ever with thy vailed lids +Seek for thy noble father in the dust: +Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, +Passing through nature to eternity. + +HAMLET +Ay, madam, it is common. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +If it be, +Why seems it so particular with thee? + +HAMLET +Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.' +'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, +Nor customary suits of solemn black, +Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, +No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, +Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, +Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, +That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, +For they are actions that a man might play: +But I have that within which passeth show; +These but the trappings and the suits of woe. + +KING CLAUDIUS +'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, +To give these mourning duties to your father: +But, you must know, your father lost a father; +That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound +In filial obligation for some term +To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever +In obstinate condolement is a course +Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief; +It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, +A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, +An understanding simple and unschool'd: +For what we know must be and is as common +As any the most vulgar thing to sense, +Why should we in our peevish opposition +Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, +A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, +To reason most absurd: whose common theme +Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, +From the first corse till he that died to-day, +'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth +This unprevailing woe, and think of us +As of a father: for let the world take note, +You are the most immediate to our throne; +And with no less nobility of love +Than that which dearest father bears his son, +Do I impart toward you. For your intent +In going back to school in Wittenberg, +It is most retrograde to our desire: +And we beseech you, bend you to remain +Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, +Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: +I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. + +HAMLET +I shall in all my best obey you, madam. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply: +Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; +This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet +Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, +No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, +But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, +And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again, +Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +HAMLET +O, that this too too solid flesh would melt +Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! +Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd +His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! +How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, +Seem to me all the uses of this world! +Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, +That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature +Possess it merely. That it should come to this! +But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: +So excellent a king; that was, to this, +Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother +That he might not beteem the winds of heaven +Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! +Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, +As if increase of appetite had grown +By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- +Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!-- +A little month, or ere those shoes were old +With which she follow'd my poor father's body, +Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she-- +O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, +Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle, +My father's brother, but no more like my father +Than I to Hercules: within a month: +Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears +Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, +She married. O, most wicked speed, to post +With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! +It is not nor it cannot come to good: +But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. + +Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO + +HORATIO +Hail to your lordship! + +HAMLET +I am glad to see you well: +Horatio,--or I do forget myself. + +HORATIO +The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. + +HAMLET +Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: +And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus? + +MARCELLUS +My good lord-- + +HAMLET +I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. +But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? + +HORATIO +A truant disposition, good my lord. + +HAMLET +I would not hear your enemy say so, +Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, +To make it truster of your own report +Against yourself: I know you are no truant. +But what is your affair in Elsinore? +We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. + +HORATIO +My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. + +HAMLET +I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; +I think it was to see my mother's wedding. + +HORATIO +Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. + +HAMLET +Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats +Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. +Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven +Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! +My father!--methinks I see my father. + +HORATIO +Where, my lord? + +HAMLET +In my mind's eye, Horatio. + +HORATIO +I saw him once; he was a goodly king. + +HAMLET +He was a man, take him for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. + +HORATIO +My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. + +HAMLET +Saw? who? + +HORATIO +My lord, the king your father. + +HAMLET +The king my father! + +HORATIO +Season your admiration for awhile +With an attent ear, till I may deliver, +Upon the witness of these gentlemen, +This marvel to you. + +HAMLET +For God's love, let me hear. + +HORATIO +Two nights together had these gentlemen, +Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, +In the dead vast and middle of the night, +Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, +Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe, +Appears before them, and with solemn march +Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd +By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, +Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled +Almost to jelly with the act of fear, +Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me +In dreadful secrecy impart they did; +And I with them the third night kept the watch; +Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, +Form of the thing, each word made true and good, +The apparition comes: I knew your father; +These hands are not more like. + +HAMLET +But where was this? + +MARCELLUS +My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. + +HAMLET +Did you not speak to it? + +HORATIO +My lord, I did; +But answer made it none: yet once methought +It lifted up its head and did address +Itself to motion, like as it would speak; +But even then the morning cock crew loud, +And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, +And vanish'd from our sight. + +HAMLET +'Tis very strange. + +HORATIO +As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; +And we did think it writ down in our duty +To let you know of it. + +HAMLET +Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. +Hold you the watch to-night? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +We do, my lord. + +HAMLET +Arm'd, say you? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Arm'd, my lord. + +HAMLET +From top to toe? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +My lord, from head to foot. + +HAMLET +Then saw you not his face? + +HORATIO +O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. + +HAMLET +What, look'd he frowningly? + +HORATIO +A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. + +HAMLET +Pale or red? + +HORATIO +Nay, very pale. + +HAMLET +And fix'd his eyes upon you? + +HORATIO +Most constantly. + +HAMLET +I would I had been there. + +HORATIO +It would have much amazed you. + +HAMLET +Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? + +HORATIO +While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Longer, longer. + +HORATIO +Not when I saw't. + +HAMLET +His beard was grizzled--no? + +HORATIO +It was, as I have seen it in his life, +A sable silver'd. + +HAMLET +I will watch to-night; +Perchance 'twill walk again. + +HORATIO +I warrant it will. + +HAMLET +If it assume my noble father's person, +I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape +And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, +If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, +Let it be tenable in your silence still; +And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, +Give it an understanding, but no tongue: +I will requite your loves. So, fare you well: +Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, +I'll visit you. + +All +Our duty to your honour. + +HAMLET +Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; +I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! +Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, +Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house. + +Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA +LAERTES +My necessaries are embark'd: farewell: +And, sister, as the winds give benefit +And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, +But let me hear from you. + +OPHELIA +Do you doubt that? + +LAERTES +For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour, +Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, +A violet in the youth of primy nature, +Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, +The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more. + +OPHELIA +No more but so? + +LAERTES +Think it no more; +For nature, crescent, does not grow alone +In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, +The inward service of the mind and soul +Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, +And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch +The virtue of his will: but you must fear, +His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own; +For he himself is subject to his birth: +He may not, as unvalued persons do, +Carve for himself; for on his choice depends +The safety and health of this whole state; +And therefore must his choice be circumscribed +Unto the voice and yielding of that body +Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, +It fits your wisdom so far to believe it +As he in his particular act and place +May give his saying deed; which is no further +Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. +Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, +If with too credent ear you list his songs, +Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open +To his unmaster'd importunity. +Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, +And keep you in the rear of your affection, +Out of the shot and danger of desire. +The chariest maid is prodigal enough, +If she unmask her beauty to the moon: +Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes: +The canker galls the infants of the spring, +Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, +And in the morn and liquid dew of youth +Contagious blastments are most imminent. +Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: +Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. + +OPHELIA +I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, +As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, +Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, +Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; +Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, +Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, +And recks not his own rede. + +LAERTES +O, fear me not. +I stay too long: but here my father comes. + +Enter POLONIUS + +A double blessing is a double grace, +Occasion smiles upon a second leave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! +The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, +And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! +And these few precepts in thy memory +See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, +Nor any unproportioned thought his act. +Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. +Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, +Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; +But do not dull thy palm with entertainment +Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware +Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, +Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. +Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; +Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. +Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, +But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; +For the apparel oft proclaims the man, +And they in France of the best rank and station +Are of a most select and generous chief in that. +Neither a borrower nor a lender be; +For loan oft loses both itself and friend, +And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. +This above all: to thine ownself be true, +And it must follow, as the night the day, +Thou canst not then be false to any man. +Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! + +LAERTES +Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +The time invites you; go; your servants tend. + +LAERTES +Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well +What I have said to you. + +OPHELIA +'Tis in my memory lock'd, +And you yourself shall keep the key of it. + +LAERTES +Farewell. + +Exit + +LORD POLONIUS +What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you? + +OPHELIA +So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well bethought: +'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late +Given private time to you; and you yourself +Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: +If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, +And that in way of caution, I must tell you, +You do not understand yourself so clearly +As it behoves my daughter and your honour. +What is between you? give me up the truth. + +OPHELIA +He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders +Of his affection to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, +Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. +Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? + +OPHELIA +I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; +That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, +Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; +Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, +Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool. + +OPHELIA +My lord, he hath importuned me with love +In honourable fashion. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. + +OPHELIA +And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, +With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, +When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul +Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, +Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, +Even in their promise, as it is a-making, +You must not take for fire. From this time +Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence; +Set your entreatments at a higher rate +Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, +Believe so much in him, that he is young +And with a larger tether may he walk +Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, +Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, +Not of that dye which their investments show, +But mere implorators of unholy suits, +Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, +The better to beguile. This is for all: +I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, +Have you so slander any moment leisure, +As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. +Look to't, I charge you: come your ways. + +OPHELIA +I shall obey, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The platform. + +Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS +HAMLET +The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. + +HORATIO +It is a nipping and an eager air. + +HAMLET +What hour now? + +HORATIO +I think it lacks of twelve. + +HAMLET +No, it is struck. + +HORATIO +Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season +Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. + +A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within + +What does this mean, my lord? + +HAMLET +The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, +Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels; +And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, +The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out +The triumph of his pledge. + +HORATIO +Is it a custom? + +HAMLET +Ay, marry, is't: +But to my mind, though I am native here +And to the manner born, it is a custom +More honour'd in the breach than the observance. +This heavy-headed revel east and west +Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations: +They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase +Soil our addition; and indeed it takes +From our achievements, though perform'd at height, +The pith and marrow of our attribute. +So, oft it chances in particular men, +That for some vicious mole of nature in them, +As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty, +Since nature cannot choose his origin-- +By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, +Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, +Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens +The form of plausive manners, that these men, +Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, +Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-- +Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace, +As infinite as man may undergo-- +Shall in the general censure take corruption +From that particular fault: the dram of eale +Doth all the noble substance of a doubt +To his own scandal. + +HORATIO +Look, my lord, it comes! + +Enter Ghost + +HAMLET +Angels and ministers of grace defend us! +Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, +Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, +Be thy intents wicked or charitable, +Thou comest in such a questionable shape +That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, +King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me! +Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell +Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, +Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre, +Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, +Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, +To cast thee up again. What may this mean, +That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel +Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, +Making night hideous; and we fools of nature +So horridly to shake our disposition +With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? +Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? + +Ghost beckons HAMLET + +HORATIO +It beckons you to go away with it, +As if it some impartment did desire +To you alone. + +MARCELLUS +Look, with what courteous action +It waves you to a more removed ground: +But do not go with it. + +HORATIO +No, by no means. + +HAMLET +It will not speak; then I will follow it. + +HORATIO +Do not, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, what should be the fear? +I do not set my life in a pin's fee; +And for my soul, what can it do to that, +Being a thing immortal as itself? +It waves me forth again: I'll follow it. + +HORATIO +What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, +Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff +That beetles o'er his base into the sea, +And there assume some other horrible form, +Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason +And draw you into madness? think of it: +The very place puts toys of desperation, +Without more motive, into every brain +That looks so many fathoms to the sea +And hears it roar beneath. + +HAMLET +It waves me still. +Go on; I'll follow thee. + +MARCELLUS +You shall not go, my lord. + +HAMLET +Hold off your hands. + +HORATIO +Be ruled; you shall not go. + +HAMLET +My fate cries out, +And makes each petty artery in this body +As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. +Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. +By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! +I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee. + +Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET + +HORATIO +He waxes desperate with imagination. + +MARCELLUS +Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. + +HORATIO +Have after. To what issue will this come? + +MARCELLUS +Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. + +HORATIO +Heaven will direct it. + +MARCELLUS +Nay, let's follow him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the platform. + +Enter GHOST and HAMLET +HAMLET +Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further. + +Ghost +Mark me. + +HAMLET +I will. + +Ghost +My hour is almost come, +When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames +Must render up myself. + +HAMLET +Alas, poor ghost! + +Ghost +Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing +To what I shall unfold. + +HAMLET +Speak; I am bound to hear. + +Ghost +So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. + +HAMLET +What? + +Ghost +I am thy father's spirit, +Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, +And for the day confined to fast in fires, +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature +Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid +To tell the secrets of my prison-house, +I could a tale unfold whose lightest word +Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, +Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, +Thy knotted and combined locks to part +And each particular hair to stand on end, +Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: +But this eternal blazon must not be +To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! +If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- + +HAMLET +O God! + +Ghost +Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. + +HAMLET +Murder! + +Ghost +Murder most foul, as in the best it is; +But this most foul, strange and unnatural. + +HAMLET +Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift +As meditation or the thoughts of love, +May sweep to my revenge. + +Ghost +I find thee apt; +And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed +That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, +Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: +'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, +A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark +Is by a forged process of my death +Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, +The serpent that did sting thy father's life +Now wears his crown. + +HAMLET +O my prophetic soul! My uncle! + +Ghost +Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, +With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,-- +O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power +So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust +The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen: +O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! +From me, whose love was of that dignity +That it went hand in hand even with the vow +I made to her in marriage, and to decline +Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor +To those of mine! +But virtue, as it never will be moved, +Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, +So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, +Will sate itself in a celestial bed, +And prey on garbage. +But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; +Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, +My custom always of the afternoon, +Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, +With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, +And in the porches of my ears did pour +The leperous distilment; whose effect +Holds such an enmity with blood of man +That swift as quicksilver it courses through +The natural gates and alleys of the body, +And with a sudden vigour doth posset +And curd, like eager droppings into milk, +The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; +And a most instant tetter bark'd about, +Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, +All my smooth body. +Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand +Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: +Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, +Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, +No reckoning made, but sent to my account +With all my imperfections on my head: +O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! +If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; +Let not the royal bed of Denmark be +A couch for luxury and damned incest. +But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, +Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive +Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven +And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, +To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once! +The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, +And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: +Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me. + +Exit + +HAMLET +O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else? +And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart; +And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, +But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! +Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat +In this distracted globe. Remember thee! +Yea, from the table of my memory +I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, +All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, +That youth and observation copied there; +And thy commandment all alone shall live +Within the book and volume of my brain, +Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven! +O most pernicious woman! +O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! +My tables,--meet it is I set it down, +That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; +At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark: + +Writing + +So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; +It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.' +I have sworn 't. + +MARCELLUS HORATIO +[Within] My lord, my lord,-- + +MARCELLUS +[Within] Lord Hamlet,-- + +HORATIO +[Within] Heaven secure him! + +HAMLET +So be it! + +HORATIO +[Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord! + +HAMLET +Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come. + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +MARCELLUS +How is't, my noble lord? + +HORATIO +What news, my lord? + +HAMLET +O, wonderful! + +HORATIO +Good my lord, tell it. + +HAMLET +No; you'll reveal it. + +HORATIO +Not I, my lord, by heaven. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord. + +HAMLET +How say you, then; would heart of man once think it? +But you'll be secret? + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +Ay, by heaven, my lord. + +HAMLET +There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark +But he's an arrant knave. + +HORATIO +There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave +To tell us this. + +HAMLET +Why, right; you are i' the right; +And so, without more circumstance at all, +I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: +You, as your business and desire shall point you; +For every man has business and desire, +Such as it is; and for mine own poor part, +Look you, I'll go pray. + +HORATIO +These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. + +HAMLET +I'm sorry they offend you, heartily; +Yes, 'faith heartily. + +HORATIO +There's no offence, my lord. + +HAMLET +Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, +And much offence too. Touching this vision here, +It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: +For your desire to know what is between us, +O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends, +As you are friends, scholars and soldiers, +Give me one poor request. + +HORATIO +What is't, my lord? we will. + +HAMLET +Never make known what you have seen to-night. + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +My lord, we will not. + +HAMLET +Nay, but swear't. + +HORATIO +In faith, +My lord, not I. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord, in faith. + +HAMLET +Upon my sword. + +MARCELLUS +We have sworn, my lord, already. + +HAMLET +Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, +truepenny? +Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage-- +Consent to swear. + +HORATIO +Propose the oath, my lord. + +HAMLET +Never to speak of this that you have seen, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground. +Come hither, gentlemen, +And lay your hands again upon my sword: +Never to speak of this that you have heard, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast? +A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. + +HORATIO +O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! + +HAMLET +And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. +There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, +Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come; +Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, +How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself, +As I perchance hereafter shall think meet +To put an antic disposition on, +That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, +With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake, +Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, +As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' +Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' +Or such ambiguous giving out, to note +That you know aught of me: this not to do, +So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! + +They swear + +So, gentlemen, +With all my love I do commend me to you: +And what so poor a man as Hamlet is +May do, to express his love and friending to you, +God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; +And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. +The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, +That ever I was born to set it right! +Nay, come, let's go together. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS' house. + +Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO +LORD POLONIUS +Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. + +REYNALDO +I will, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, +Before you visit him, to make inquire +Of his behavior. + +REYNALDO +My lord, I did intend it. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir, +Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; +And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, +What company, at what expense; and finding +By this encompassment and drift of question +That they do know my son, come you more nearer +Than your particular demands will touch it: +Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; +As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, +And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo? + +REYNALDO +Ay, very well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well: +But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; +Addicted so and so:' and there put on him +What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank +As may dishonour him; take heed of that; +But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips +As are companions noted and most known +To youth and liberty. + +REYNALDO +As gaming, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, +Drabbing: you may go so far. + +REYNALDO +My lord, that would dishonour him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge +You must not put another scandal on him, +That he is open to incontinency; +That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly +That they may seem the taints of liberty, +The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, +A savageness in unreclaimed blood, +Of general assault. + +REYNALDO +But, my good lord,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +Wherefore should you do this? + +REYNALDO +Ay, my lord, +I would know that. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, sir, here's my drift; +And I believe, it is a fetch of wit: +You laying these slight sullies on my son, +As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you, +Your party in converse, him you would sound, +Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes +The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured +He closes with you in this consequence; +'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' +According to the phrase or the addition +Of man and country. + +REYNALDO +Very good, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I +about to say? By the mass, I was about to say +something: where did I leave? + +REYNALDO +At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' +and 'gentleman.' + +LORD POLONIUS +At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry; +He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman; +I saw him yesterday, or t' other day, +Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, +There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; +There falling out at tennis:' or perchance, +'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' +Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. +See you now; +Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth: +And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, +With windlasses and with assays of bias, +By indirections find directions out: +So by my former lecture and advice, +Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? + +REYNALDO +My lord, I have. + +LORD POLONIUS +God be wi' you; fare you well. + +REYNALDO +Good my lord! + +LORD POLONIUS +Observe his inclination in yourself. + +REYNALDO +I shall, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And let him ply his music. + +REYNALDO +Well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Farewell! + +Exit REYNALDO + +Enter OPHELIA + +How now, Ophelia! what's the matter? + +OPHELIA +O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! + +LORD POLONIUS +With what, i' the name of God? + +OPHELIA +My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, +Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; +No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, +Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; +Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; +And with a look so piteous in purport +As if he had been loosed out of hell +To speak of horrors,--he comes before me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Mad for thy love? + +OPHELIA +My lord, I do not know; +But truly, I do fear it. + +LORD POLONIUS +What said he? + +OPHELIA +He took me by the wrist and held me hard; +Then goes he to the length of all his arm; +And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, +He falls to such perusal of my face +As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; +At last, a little shaking of mine arm +And thrice his head thus waving up and down, +He raised a sigh so piteous and profound +As it did seem to shatter all his bulk +And end his being: that done, he lets me go: +And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, +He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; +For out o' doors he went without their helps, +And, to the last, bended their light on me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, go with me: I will go seek the king. +This is the very ecstasy of love, +Whose violent property fordoes itself +And leads the will to desperate undertakings +As oft as any passion under heaven +That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. +What, have you given him any hard words of late? + +OPHELIA +No, my good lord, but, as you did command, +I did repel his fetters and denied +His access to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +That hath made him mad. +I am sorry that with better heed and judgment +I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle, +And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! +By heaven, it is as proper to our age +To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions +As it is common for the younger sort +To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: +This must be known; which, being kept close, might +move +More grief to hide than hate to utter love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! +Moreover that we much did long to see you, +The need we have to use you did provoke +Our hasty sending. Something have you heard +Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it, +Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man +Resembles that it was. What it should be, +More than his father's death, that thus hath put him +So much from the understanding of himself, +I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, +That, being of so young days brought up with him, +And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior, +That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court +Some little time: so by your companies +To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, +So much as from occasion you may glean, +Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, +That, open'd, lies within our remedy. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; +And sure I am two men there are not living +To whom he more adheres. If it will please you +To show us so much gentry and good will +As to expend your time with us awhile, +For the supply and profit of our hope, +Your visitation shall receive such thanks +As fits a king's remembrance. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Both your majesties +Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, +Put your dread pleasures more into command +Than to entreaty. + +GUILDENSTERN +But we both obey, +And here give up ourselves, in the full bent +To lay our service freely at your feet, +To be commanded. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz: +And I beseech you instantly to visit +My too much changed son. Go, some of you, +And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. + +GUILDENSTERN +Heavens make our presence and our practises +Pleasant and helpful to him! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay, amen! + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, +Are joyfully return'd. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thou still hast been the father of good news. + +LORD POLONIUS +Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege, +I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, +Both to my God and to my gracious king: +And I do think, or else this brain of mine +Hunts not the trail of policy so sure +As it hath used to do, that I have found +The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. + +LORD POLONIUS +Give first admittance to the ambassadors; +My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. + +Exit POLONIUS + +He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found +The head and source of all your son's distemper. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I doubt it is no other but the main; +His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Well, we shall sift him. + +Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +Welcome, my good friends! +Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway? + +VOLTIMAND +Most fair return of greetings and desires. +Upon our first, he sent out to suppress +His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd +To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; +But, better look'd into, he truly found +It was against your highness: whereat grieved, +That so his sickness, age and impotence +Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests +On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; +Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine +Makes vow before his uncle never more +To give the assay of arms against your majesty. +Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, +Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, +And his commission to employ those soldiers, +So levied as before, against the Polack: +With an entreaty, herein further shown, + +Giving a paper + +That it might please you to give quiet pass +Through your dominions for this enterprise, +On such regards of safety and allowance +As therein are set down. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It likes us well; +And at our more consider'd time well read, +Answer, and think upon this business. +Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour: +Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: +Most welcome home! + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +This business is well ended. +My liege, and madam, to expostulate +What majesty should be, what duty is, +Why day is day, night night, and time is time, +Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. +Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, +And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, +I will be brief: your noble son is mad: +Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, +What is't but to be nothing else but mad? +But let that go. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +More matter, with less art. + +LORD POLONIUS +Madam, I swear I use no art at all. +That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity; +And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure; +But farewell it, for I will use no art. +Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains +That we find out the cause of this effect, +Or rather say, the cause of this defect, +For this effect defective comes by cause: +Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. +I have a daughter--have while she is mine-- +Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, +Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise. + +Reads + +'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most +beautified Ophelia,'-- +That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is +a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus: + +Reads + +'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.' + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Came this from Hamlet to her? + +LORD POLONIUS +Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. + +Reads + +'Doubt thou the stars are fire; +Doubt that the sun doth move; +Doubt truth to be a liar; +But never doubt I love. +'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; +I have not art to reckon my groans: but that +I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. +'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst +this machine is to him, HAMLET.' +This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me, +And more above, hath his solicitings, +As they fell out by time, by means and place, +All given to mine ear. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But how hath she +Received his love? + +LORD POLONIUS +What do you think of me? + +KING CLAUDIUS +As of a man faithful and honourable. + +LORD POLONIUS +I would fain prove so. But what might you think, +When I had seen this hot love on the wing-- +As I perceived it, I must tell you that, +Before my daughter told me--what might you, +Or my dear majesty your queen here, think, +If I had play'd the desk or table-book, +Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, +Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; +What might you think? No, I went round to work, +And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: +'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star; +This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her, +That she should lock herself from his resort, +Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. +Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; +And he, repulsed--a short tale to make-- +Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, +Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, +Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, +Into the madness wherein now he raves, +And all we mourn for. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Do you think 'tis this? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +It may be, very likely. + +LORD POLONIUS +Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that-- +That I have positively said 'Tis so,' +When it proved otherwise? + +KING CLAUDIUS +Not that I know. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Pointing to his head and shoulder] +Take this from this, if this be otherwise: +If circumstances lead me, I will find +Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed +Within the centre. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How may we try it further? + +LORD POLONIUS +You know, sometimes he walks four hours together +Here in the lobby. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +So he does indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: +Be you and I behind an arras then; +Mark the encounter: if he love her not +And be not from his reason fall'n thereon, +Let me be no assistant for a state, +But keep a farm and carters. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We will try it. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. + +LORD POLONIUS +Away, I do beseech you, both away: +I'll board him presently. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and Attendants + +Enter HAMLET, reading + +O, give me leave: +How does my good Lord Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Well, God-a-mercy. + +LORD POLONIUS +Do you know me, my lord? + +HAMLET +Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. + +LORD POLONIUS +Not I, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then I would you were so honest a man. + +LORD POLONIUS +Honest, my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be +one man picked out of ten thousand. + +LORD POLONIUS +That's very true, my lord. + +HAMLET +For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a +god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter? + +LORD POLONIUS +I have, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a +blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive. +Friend, look to 't. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my +daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I +was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and +truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for +love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. +What do you read, my lord? + +HAMLET +Words, words, words. + +LORD POLONIUS +What is the matter, my lord? + +HAMLET +Between who? + +LORD POLONIUS +I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. + +HAMLET +Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here +that old men have grey beards, that their faces are +wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and +plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of +wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, +though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet +I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for +yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab +you could go backward. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method +in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord? + +HAMLET +Into my grave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Indeed, that is out o' the air. + +Aside + +How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness +that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity +could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will +leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of +meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable +lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. + +HAMLET +You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will +more willingly part withal: except my life, except +my life, except my life. + +LORD POLONIUS +Fare you well, my lord. + +HAMLET +These tedious old fools! + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +LORD POLONIUS +You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. + +ROSENCRANTZ +[To POLONIUS] God save you, sir! + +Exit POLONIUS + +GUILDENSTERN +My honoured lord! + +ROSENCRANTZ +My most dear lord! + +HAMLET +My excellent good friends! How dost thou, +Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? + +ROSENCRANTZ +As the indifferent children of the earth. + +GUILDENSTERN +Happy, in that we are not over-happy; +On fortune's cap we are not the very button. + +HAMLET +Nor the soles of her shoe? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Neither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of +her favours? + +GUILDENSTERN +'Faith, her privates we. + +HAMLET +In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she +is a strumpet. What's the news? + +ROSENCRANTZ +None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest. + +HAMLET +Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true. +Let me question more in particular: what have you, +my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, +that she sends you to prison hither? + +GUILDENSTERN +Prison, my lord! + +HAMLET +Denmark's a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then is the world one. + +HAMLET +A goodly one; in which there are many confines, +wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We think not so, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing +either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me +it is a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too +narrow for your mind. + +HAMLET +O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count +myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I +have bad dreams. + +GUILDENSTERN +Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very +substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. + +HAMLET +A dream itself is but a shadow. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a +quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. + +HAMLET +Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and +outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we +to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We'll wait upon you. + +HAMLET +No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest +of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest +man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the +beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. + +HAMLET +Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I +thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are +too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it +your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, +deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +What should we say, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent +for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks +which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: +I know the good king and queen have sent for you. + +ROSENCRANTZ +To what end, my lord? + +HAMLET +That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by +the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of +our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved +love, and by what more dear a better proposer could +charge you withal, be even and direct with me, +whether you were sent for, or no? + +ROSENCRANTZ +[Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you? + +HAMLET +[Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you +love me, hold not off. + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, we were sent for. + +HAMLET +I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation +prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king +and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but +wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all +custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily +with my disposition that this goodly frame, the +earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most +excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave +o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted +with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to +me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. +What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! +how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how +express and admirable! in action how like an angel! +in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the +world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, +what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not +me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling +you seem to say so. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. + +HAMLET +Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what +lenten entertainment the players shall receive from +you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they +coming, to offer you service. + +HAMLET +He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty +shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight +shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not +sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part +in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose +lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall +say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt +for't. What players are they? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Even those you were wont to take delight in, the +tragedians of the city. + +HAMLET +How chances it they travel? their residence, both +in reputation and profit, was better both ways. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I think their inhibition comes by the means of the +late innovation. + +HAMLET +Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was +in the city? are they so followed? + +ROSENCRANTZ +No, indeed, are they not. + +HAMLET +How comes it? do they grow rusty? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but +there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, +that cry out on the top of question, and are most +tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the +fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they +call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of +goose-quills and dare scarce come thither. + +HAMLET +What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are +they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no +longer than they can sing? will they not say +afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common +players--as it is most like, if their means are no +better--their writers do them wrong, to make them +exclaim against their own succession? + +ROSENCRANTZ +'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and +the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to +controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid +for argument, unless the poet and the player went to +cuffs in the question. + +HAMLET +Is't possible? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, there has been much throwing about of brains. + +HAMLET +Do the boys carry it away? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too. + +HAMLET +It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of +Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while +my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an +hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little. +'Sblood, there is something in this more than +natural, if philosophy could find it out. + +Flourish of trumpets within + +GUILDENSTERN +There are the players. + +HAMLET +Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, +come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion +and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb, +lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, +must show fairly outward, should more appear like +entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my +uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. + +GUILDENSTERN +In what, my dear lord? + +HAMLET +I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is +southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +Well be with you, gentlemen! + +HAMLET +Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a +hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet +out of his swaddling-clouts. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Happily he's the second time come to them; for they +say an old man is twice a child. + +HAMLET +I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; +mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; +'twas so indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I have news to tell you. + +HAMLET +My lord, I have news to tell you. +When Roscius was an actor in Rome,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The actors are come hither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Buz, buz! + +LORD POLONIUS +Upon mine honour,-- + +HAMLET +Then came each actor on his ass,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, +comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, +historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical- +comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or +poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor +Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the +liberty, these are the only men. + +HAMLET +O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! + +LORD POLONIUS +What a treasure had he, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'One fair daughter and no more, +The which he loved passing well.' + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Still on my daughter. + +HAMLET +Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah? + +LORD POLONIUS +If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter +that I love passing well. + +HAMLET +Nay, that follows not. + +LORD POLONIUS +What follows, then, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'As by lot, God wot,' +and then, you know, +'It came to pass, as most like it was,'-- +the first row of the pious chanson will show you +more; for look, where my abridgement comes. + +Enter four or five Players + +You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad +to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old +friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last: +comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young +lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is +nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the +altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like +apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the +ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en +to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see: +we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste +of your quality; come, a passionate speech. + +First Player +What speech, my lord? + +HAMLET +I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was +never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the +play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas +caviare to the general: but it was--as I received +it, and others, whose judgments in such matters +cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well +digested in the scenes, set down with as much +modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there +were no sallets in the lines to make the matter +savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might +indict the author of affectation; but called it an +honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very +much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I +chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and +thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of +Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin +at this line: let me see, let me see-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'-- +it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, +Black as his purpose, did the night resemble +When he lay couched in the ominous horse, +Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd +With heraldry more dismal; head to foot +Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd +With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, +Baked and impasted with the parching streets, +That lend a tyrannous and damned light +To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire, +And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore, +With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus +Old grandsire Priam seeks.' +So, proceed you. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and +good discretion. + +First Player +'Anon he finds him +Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, +Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, +Repugnant to command: unequal match'd, +Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; +But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword +The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, +Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top +Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash +Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword, +Which was declining on the milky head +Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: +So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, +And like a neutral to his will and matter, +Did nothing. +But, as we often see, against some storm, +A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, +The bold winds speechless and the orb below +As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder +Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause, +Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work; +And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall +On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne +With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword +Now falls on Priam. +Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, +In general synod 'take away her power; +Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, +And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, +As low as to the fiends!' + +LORD POLONIUS +This is too long. + +HAMLET +It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee, +say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he +sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba. + +First Player +'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--' + +HAMLET +'The mobled queen?' + +LORD POLONIUS +That's good; 'mobled queen' is good. + +First Player +'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames +With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head +Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, +About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins, +A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; +Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, +'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have +pronounced: +But if the gods themselves did see her then +When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport +In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, +The instant burst of clamour that she made, +Unless things mortal move them not at all, +Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, +And passion in the gods.' + +LORD POLONIUS +Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has +tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more. + +HAMLET +'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. +Good my lord, will you see the players well +bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for +they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the +time: after your death you were better have a bad +epitaph than their ill report while you live. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I will use them according to their desert. + +HAMLET +God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man +after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? +Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less +they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. +Take them in. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, sirs. + +HAMLET +Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. + +Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First + +Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the +Murder of Gonzago? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, +study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which +I would set down and insert in't, could you not? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him +not. + +Exit First Player + +My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are +welcome to Elsinore. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, so, God be wi' ye; + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Now I am alone. +O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! +Is it not monstrous that this player here, +But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, +Could force his soul so to his own conceit +That from her working all his visage wann'd, +Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, +A broken voice, and his whole function suiting +With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! +For Hecuba! +What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, +That he should weep for her? What would he do, +Had he the motive and the cue for passion +That I have? He would drown the stage with tears +And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, +Make mad the guilty and appal the free, +Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed +The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, +A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, +Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, +And can say nothing; no, not for a king, +Upon whose property and most dear life +A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? +Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? +Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? +Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, +As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? +Ha! +'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be +But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall +To make oppression bitter, or ere this +I should have fatted all the region kites +With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain! +Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! +O, vengeance! +Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, +That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, +Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, +Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, +And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, +A scullion! +Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard +That guilty creatures sitting at a play +Have by the very cunning of the scene +Been struck so to the soul that presently +They have proclaim'd their malefactions; +For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak +With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players +Play something like the murder of my father +Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks; +I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, +I know my course. The spirit that I have seen +May be the devil: and the devil hath power +To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps +Out of my weakness and my melancholy, +As he is very potent with such spirits, +Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds +More relative than this: the play 's the thing +Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +And can you, by no drift of circumstance, +Get from him why he puts on this confusion, +Grating so harshly all his days of quiet +With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? + +ROSENCRANTZ +He does confess he feels himself distracted; +But from what cause he will by no means speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, +But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, +When we would bring him on to some confession +Of his true state. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did he receive you well? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Most like a gentleman. + +GUILDENSTERN +But with much forcing of his disposition. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Niggard of question; but, of our demands, +Most free in his reply. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did you assay him? +To any pastime? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Madam, it so fell out, that certain players +We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him; +And there did seem in him a kind of joy +To hear of it: they are about the court, +And, as I think, they have already order +This night to play before him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Tis most true: +And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties +To hear and see the matter. + +KING CLAUDIUS +With all my heart; and it doth much content me +To hear him so inclined. +Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, +And drive his purpose on to these delights. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We shall, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; +For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, +That he, as 'twere by accident, may here +Affront Ophelia: +Her father and myself, lawful espials, +Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen, +We may of their encounter frankly judge, +And gather by him, as he is behaved, +If 't be the affliction of his love or no +That thus he suffers for. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I shall obey you. +And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish +That your good beauties be the happy cause +Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues +Will bring him to his wonted way again, +To both your honours. + +OPHELIA +Madam, I wish it may. + +Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE + +LORD POLONIUS +Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you, +We will bestow ourselves. + +To OPHELIA + +Read on this book; +That show of such an exercise may colour +Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,-- +'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage +And pious action we do sugar o'er +The devil himself. + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Aside] O, 'tis too true! +How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! +The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, +Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it +Than is my deed to my most painted word: +O heavy burthen! + +LORD POLONIUS +I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +To be, or not to be: that is the question: +Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer +The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, +Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, +And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; +No more; and by a sleep to say we end +The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks +That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation +Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; +To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; +For in that sleep of death what dreams may come +When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, +Must give us pause: there's the respect +That makes calamity of so long life; +For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, +The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, +The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, +The insolence of office and the spurns +That patient merit of the unworthy takes, +When he himself might his quietus make +With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, +To grunt and sweat under a weary life, +But that the dread of something after death, +The undiscover'd country from whose bourn +No traveller returns, puzzles the will +And makes us rather bear those ills we have +Than fly to others that we know not of? +Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; +And thus the native hue of resolution +Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, +And enterprises of great pith and moment +With this regard their currents turn awry, +And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! +The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons +Be all my sins remember'd. + +OPHELIA +Good my lord, +How does your honour for this many a day? + +HAMLET +I humbly thank you; well, well, well. + +OPHELIA +My lord, I have remembrances of yours, +That I have longed long to re-deliver; +I pray you, now receive them. + +HAMLET +No, not I; +I never gave you aught. + +OPHELIA +My honour'd lord, you know right well you did; +And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed +As made the things more rich: their perfume lost, +Take these again; for to the noble mind +Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. +There, my lord. + +HAMLET +Ha, ha! are you honest? + +OPHELIA +My lord? + +HAMLET +Are you fair? + +OPHELIA +What means your lordship? + +HAMLET +That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should +admit no discourse to your beauty. + +OPHELIA +Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than +with honesty? + +HAMLET +Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner +transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the +force of honesty can translate beauty into his +likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the +time gives it proof. I did love you once. + +OPHELIA +Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + +HAMLET +You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot +so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of +it: I loved you not. + +OPHELIA +I was the more deceived. + +HAMLET +Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a +breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; +but yet I could accuse me of such things that it +were better my mother had not borne me: I am very +proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at +my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, +imagination to give them shape, or time to act them +in. What should such fellows as I do crawling +between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, +all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. +Where's your father? + +OPHELIA +At home, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the +fool no where but in's own house. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O, help him, you sweet heavens! + +HAMLET +If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for +thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as +snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a +nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs +marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough +what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, +and quickly too. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O heavenly powers, restore him! + +HAMLET +I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God +has given you one face, and you make yourselves +another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and +nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness +your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath +made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: +those that are married already, all but one, shall +live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a +nunnery, go. + +Exit + +OPHELIA +O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! +The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; +The expectancy and rose of the fair state, +The glass of fashion and the mould of form, +The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! +And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, +That suck'd the honey of his music vows, +Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, +Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; +That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth +Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me, +To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! + +Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +KING CLAUDIUS +Love! his affections do not that way tend; +Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, +Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, +O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; +And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose +Will be some danger: which for to prevent, +I have in quick determination +Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England, +For the demand of our neglected tribute +Haply the seas and countries different +With variable objects shall expel +This something-settled matter in his heart, +Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus +From fashion of himself. What think you on't? + +LORD POLONIUS +It shall do well: but yet do I believe +The origin and commencement of his grief +Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia! +You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; +We heard it all. My lord, do as you please; +But, if you hold it fit, after the play +Let his queen mother all alone entreat him +To show his grief: let her be round with him; +And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear +Of all their conference. If she find him not, +To England send him, or confine him where +Your wisdom best shall think. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It shall be so: +Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A hall in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET and Players +HAMLET +Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to +you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, +as many of your players do, I had as lief the +town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air +too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; +for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, +the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget +a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it +offends me to the soul to hear a robustious +periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to +very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who +for the most part are capable of nothing but +inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such +a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it +out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. + +First Player +I warrant your honour. + +HAMLET +Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion +be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the +word to the action; with this special o'erstep not +the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is +from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the +first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the +mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, +scorn her own image, and the very age and body of +the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, +or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful +laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the +censure of the which one must in your allowance +o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be +players that I have seen play, and heard others +praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, +that, neither having the accent of Christians nor +the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so +strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of +nature's journeymen had made men and not made them +well, they imitated humanity so abominably. + +First Player +I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, +sir. + +HAMLET +O, reform it altogether. And let those that play +your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; +for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to +set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh +too; though, in the mean time, some necessary +question of the play be then to be considered: +that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition +in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready. + +Exeunt Players + +Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN + +How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work? + +LORD POLONIUS +And the queen too, and that presently. + +HAMLET +Bid the players make haste. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Will you two help to hasten them? + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +HAMLET +What ho! Horatio! + +Enter HORATIO + +HORATIO +Here, sweet lord, at your service. + +HAMLET +Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man +As e'er my conversation coped withal. + +HORATIO +O, my dear lord,-- + +HAMLET +Nay, do not think I flatter; +For what advancement may I hope from thee +That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, +To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? +No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, +And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee +Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? +Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice +And could of men distinguish, her election +Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been +As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, +A man that fortune's buffets and rewards +Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those +Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, +That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger +To sound what stop she please. Give me that man +That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him +In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, +As I do thee.--Something too much of this.-- +There is a play to-night before the king; +One scene of it comes near the circumstance +Which I have told thee of my father's death: +I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, +Even with the very comment of thy soul +Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt +Do not itself unkennel in one speech, +It is a damned ghost that we have seen, +And my imaginations are as foul +As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; +For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, +And after we will both our judgments join +In censure of his seeming. + +HORATIO +Well, my lord: +If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, +And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. + +HAMLET +They are coming to the play; I must be idle: +Get you a place. + +Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +KING CLAUDIUS +How fares our cousin Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat +the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so. + +KING CLAUDIUS +I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words +are not mine. + +HAMLET +No, nor mine now. + +To POLONIUS + +My lord, you played once i' the university, you say? + +LORD POLONIUS +That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor. + +HAMLET +What did you enact? + +LORD POLONIUS +I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the +Capitol; Brutus killed me. + +HAMLET +It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf +there. Be the players ready? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. + +HAMLET +No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. + +LORD POLONIUS +[To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that? + +HAMLET +Lady, shall I lie in your lap? + +Lying down at OPHELIA's feet + +OPHELIA +No, my lord. + +HAMLET +I mean, my head upon your lap? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Do you think I meant country matters? + +OPHELIA +I think nothing, my lord. + +HAMLET +That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. + +OPHELIA +What is, my lord? + +HAMLET +Nothing. + +OPHELIA +You are merry, my lord. + +HAMLET +Who, I? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do +but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my +mother looks, and my father died within these two hours. + +OPHELIA +Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. + +HAMLET +So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for +I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two +months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's +hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half +a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches, +then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with +the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O, +the hobby-horse is forgot.' + +Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters + +Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love + +Exeunt + +OPHELIA +What means this, my lord? + +HAMLET +Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. + +OPHELIA +Belike this show imports the argument of the play. + +Enter Prologue + +HAMLET +We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot +keep counsel; they'll tell all. + +OPHELIA +Will he tell us what this show meant? + +HAMLET +Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you +ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. + +OPHELIA +You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play. + +Prologue +For us, and for our tragedy, +Here stooping to your clemency, +We beg your hearing patiently. + +Exit + +HAMLET +Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? + +OPHELIA +'Tis brief, my lord. + +HAMLET +As woman's love. + +Enter two Players, King and Queen + +Player King +Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round +Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, +And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen +About the world have times twelve thirties been, +Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands +Unite commutual in most sacred bands. + +Player Queen +So many journeys may the sun and moon +Make us again count o'er ere love be done! +But, woe is me, you are so sick of late, +So far from cheer and from your former state, +That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, +Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must: +For women's fear and love holds quantity; +In neither aught, or in extremity. +Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; +And as my love is sized, my fear is so: +Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; +Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. + +Player King +'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; +My operant powers their functions leave to do: +And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, +Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind +For husband shalt thou-- + +Player Queen +O, confound the rest! +Such love must needs be treason in my breast: +In second husband let me be accurst! +None wed the second but who kill'd the first. + +HAMLET +[Aside] Wormwood, wormwood. + +Player Queen +The instances that second marriage move +Are base respects of thrift, but none of love: +A second time I kill my husband dead, +When second husband kisses me in bed. + +Player King +I do believe you think what now you speak; +But what we do determine oft we break. +Purpose is but the slave to memory, +Of violent birth, but poor validity; +Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; +But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. +Most necessary 'tis that we forget +To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt: +What to ourselves in passion we propose, +The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. +The violence of either grief or joy +Their own enactures with themselves destroy: +Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; +Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. +This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange +That even our loves should with our fortunes change; +For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, +Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. +The great man down, you mark his favourite flies; +The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. +And hitherto doth love on fortune tend; +For who not needs shall never lack a friend, +And who in want a hollow friend doth try, +Directly seasons him his enemy. +But, orderly to end where I begun, +Our wills and fates do so contrary run +That our devices still are overthrown; +Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: +So think thou wilt no second husband wed; +But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. + +Player Queen +Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! +Sport and repose lock from me day and night! +To desperation turn my trust and hope! +An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope! +Each opposite that blanks the face of joy +Meet what I would have well and it destroy! +Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, +If, once a widow, ever I be wife! + +HAMLET +If she should break it now! + +Player King +'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile; +My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile +The tedious day with sleep. + +Sleeps + +Player Queen +Sleep rock thy brain, +And never come mischance between us twain! + +Exit + +HAMLET +Madam, how like you this play? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +The lady protests too much, methinks. + +HAMLET +O, but she'll keep her word. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't? + +HAMLET +No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence +i' the world. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What do you call the play? + +HAMLET +The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play +is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is +the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see +anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o' +that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it +touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our +withers are unwrung. + +Enter LUCIANUS + +This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. + +OPHELIA +You are as good as a chorus, my lord. + +HAMLET +I could interpret between you and your love, if I +could see the puppets dallying. + +OPHELIA +You are keen, my lord, you are keen. + +HAMLET +It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. + +OPHELIA +Still better, and worse. + +HAMLET +So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer; +pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come: +'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' + +LUCIANUS +Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; +Confederate season, else no creature seeing; +Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, +With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, +Thy natural magic and dire property, +On wholesome life usurp immediately. + +Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears + +HAMLET +He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His +name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in +choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer +gets the love of Gonzago's wife. + +OPHELIA +The king rises. + +HAMLET +What, frighted with false fire! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +How fares my lord? + +LORD POLONIUS +Give o'er the play. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Give me some light: away! + +All +Lights, lights, lights! + +Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO + +HAMLET +Why, let the stricken deer go weep, +The hart ungalled play; +For some must watch, while some must sleep: +So runs the world away. +Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if +the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two +Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a +fellowship in a cry of players, sir? + +HORATIO +Half a share. + +HAMLET +A whole one, I. +For thou dost know, O Damon dear, +This realm dismantled was +Of Jove himself; and now reigns here +A very, very--pajock. + +HORATIO +You might have rhymed. + +HAMLET +O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a +thousand pound. Didst perceive? + +HORATIO +Very well, my lord. + +HAMLET +Upon the talk of the poisoning? + +HORATIO +I did very well note him. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders! +For if the king like not the comedy, +Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. +Come, some music! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. + +HAMLET +Sir, a whole history. + +GUILDENSTERN +The king, sir,-- + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, what of him? + +GUILDENSTERN +Is in his retirement marvellous distempered. + +HAMLET +With drink, sir? + +GUILDENSTERN +No, my lord, rather with choler. + +HAMLET +Your wisdom should show itself more richer to +signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him +to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far +more choler. + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and +start not so wildly from my affair. + +HAMLET +I am tame, sir: pronounce. + +GUILDENSTERN +The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of +spirit, hath sent me to you. + +HAMLET +You are welcome. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right +breed. If it shall please you to make me a +wholesome answer, I will do your mother's +commandment: if not, your pardon and my return +shall be the end of my business. + +HAMLET +Sir, I cannot. + +GUILDENSTERN +What, my lord? + +HAMLET +Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but, +sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; +or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no +more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,-- + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her +into amazement and admiration. + +HAMLET +O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But +is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's +admiration? Impart. + +ROSENCRANTZ +She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you +go to bed. + +HAMLET +We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have +you any further trade with us? + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you once did love me. + +HAMLET +So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you +do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if +you deny your griefs to your friend. + +HAMLET +Sir, I lack advancement. + +ROSENCRANTZ +How can that be, when you have the voice of the king +himself for your succession in Denmark? + +HAMLET +Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb +is something musty. + +Re-enter Players with recorders + +O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with +you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me, +as if you would drive me into a toil? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too +unmannerly. + +HAMLET +I do not well understand that. Will you play upon +this pipe? + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I pray you. + +GUILDENSTERN +Believe me, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I do beseech you. + +GUILDENSTERN +I know no touch of it, my lord. + +HAMLET +'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with +your lingers and thumb, give it breath with your +mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. +Look you, these are the stops. + +GUILDENSTERN +But these cannot I command to any utterance of +harmony; I have not the skill. + +HAMLET +Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of +me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know +my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my +mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to +the top of my compass: and there is much music, +excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot +you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am +easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what +instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you +cannot play upon me. + +Enter POLONIUS + +God bless you, sir! + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, the queen would speak with you, and +presently. + +HAMLET +Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? + +LORD POLONIUS +By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. + +HAMLET +Methinks it is like a weasel. + +LORD POLONIUS +It is backed like a weasel. + +HAMLET +Or like a whale? + +LORD POLONIUS +Very like a whale. + +HAMLET +Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool +me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by. + +LORD POLONIUS +I will say so. + +HAMLET +By and by is easily said. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Leave me, friends. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +Tis now the very witching time of night, +When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out +Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, +And do such bitter business as the day +Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother. +O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever +The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom: +Let me be cruel, not unnatural: +I will speak daggers to her, but use none; +My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites; +How in my words soever she be shent, +To give them seals never, my soul, consent! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +I like him not, nor stands it safe with us +To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; +I your commission will forthwith dispatch, +And he to England shall along with you: +The terms of our estate may not endure +Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow +Out of his lunacies. + +GUILDENSTERN +We will ourselves provide: +Most holy and religious fear it is +To keep those many many bodies safe +That live and feed upon your majesty. + +ROSENCRANTZ +The single and peculiar life is bound, +With all the strength and armour of the mind, +To keep itself from noyance; but much more +That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest +The lives of many. The cease of majesty +Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw +What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel, +Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, +To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things +Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, +Each small annexment, petty consequence, +Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone +Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; +For we will fetters put upon this fear, +Which now goes too free-footed. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will haste us. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, he's going to his mother's closet: +Behind the arras I'll convey myself, +To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home: +And, as you said, and wisely was it said, +'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, +Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear +The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege: +I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, +And tell you what I know. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, dear my lord. + +Exit POLONIUS + +O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven; +It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, +A brother's murder. Pray can I not, +Though inclination be as sharp as will: +My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; +And, like a man to double business bound, +I stand in pause where I shall first begin, +And both neglect. What if this cursed hand +Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, +Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens +To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy +But to confront the visage of offence? +And what's in prayer but this two-fold force, +To be forestalled ere we come to fall, +Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up; +My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer +Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'? +That cannot be; since I am still possess'd +Of those effects for which I did the murder, +My crown, mine own ambition and my queen. +May one be pardon'd and retain the offence? +In the corrupted currents of this world +Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, +And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself +Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; +There is no shuffling, there the action lies +In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd, +Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, +To give in evidence. What then? what rests? +Try what repentance can: what can it not? +Yet what can it when one can not repent? +O wretched state! O bosom black as death! +O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, +Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! +Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, +Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe! +All may be well. + +Retires and kneels + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now might I do it pat, now he is praying; +And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven; +And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd: +A villain kills my father; and for that, +I, his sole son, do this same villain send +To heaven. +O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. +He took my father grossly, full of bread; +With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; +And how his audit stands who knows save heaven? +But in our circumstance and course of thought, +'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged, +To take him in the purging of his soul, +When he is fit and season'd for his passage? +No! +Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent: +When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, +Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed; +At gaming, swearing, or about some act +That has no relish of salvation in't; +Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, +And that his soul may be as damn'd and black +As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays: +This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: +Words without thoughts never to heaven go. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The Queen's closet. + +Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS +LORD POLONIUS +He will come straight. Look you lay home to him: +Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, +And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between +Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here. +Pray you, be round with him. + +HAMLET +[Within] Mother, mother, mother! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I'll warrant you, +Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming. + +POLONIUS hides behind the arras + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now, mother, what's the matter? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. + +HAMLET +Mother, you have my father much offended. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. + +HAMLET +Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Why, how now, Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What's the matter now? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Have you forgot me? + +HAMLET +No, by the rood, not so: +You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; +And--would it were not so!--you are my mother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. + +HAMLET +Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge; +You go not till I set you up a glass +Where you may see the inmost part of you. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me? +Help, help, ho! + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help! + +HAMLET +[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! + +Makes a pass through the arras + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] O, I am slain! + +Falls and dies + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O me, what hast thou done? + +HAMLET +Nay, I know not: +Is it the king? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! + +HAMLET +A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, +As kill a king, and marry with his brother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +As kill a king! + +HAMLET +Ay, lady, 'twas my word. + +Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS + +Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! +I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune; +Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. +Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down, +And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, +If it be made of penetrable stuff, +If damned custom have not brass'd it so +That it is proof and bulwark against sense. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue +In noise so rude against me? + +HAMLET +Such an act +That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, +Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose +From the fair forehead of an innocent love +And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows +As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed +As from the body of contraction plucks +The very soul, and sweet religion makes +A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: +Yea, this solidity and compound mass, +With tristful visage, as against the doom, +Is thought-sick at the act. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay me, what act, +That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? + +HAMLET +Look here, upon this picture, and on this, +The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. +See, what a grace was seated on this brow; +Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; +An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; +A station like the herald Mercury +New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; +A combination and a form indeed, +Where every god did seem to set his seal, +To give the world assurance of a man: +This was your husband. Look you now, what follows: +Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear, +Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? +Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, +And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? +You cannot call it love; for at your age +The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, +And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment +Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, +Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense +Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err, +Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd +But it reserved some quantity of choice, +To serve in such a difference. What devil was't +That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind? +Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, +Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, +Or but a sickly part of one true sense +Could not so mope. +O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, +If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, +To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, +And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame +When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, +Since frost itself as actively doth burn +And reason panders will. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, speak no more: +Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; +And there I see such black and grained spots +As will not leave their tinct. + +HAMLET +Nay, but to live +In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, +Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love +Over the nasty sty,-- + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, speak to me no more; +These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; +No more, sweet Hamlet! + +HAMLET +A murderer and a villain; +A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe +Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; +A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, +That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, +And put it in his pocket! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No more! + +HAMLET +A king of shreds and patches,-- + +Enter Ghost + +Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, +You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, he's mad! + +HAMLET +Do you not come your tardy son to chide, +That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by +The important acting of your dread command? O, say! + +Ghost +Do not forget: this visitation +Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. +But, look, amazement on thy mother sits: +O, step between her and her fighting soul: +Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works: +Speak to her, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +How is it with you, lady? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, how is't with you, +That you do bend your eye on vacancy +And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? +Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; +And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, +Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, +Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, +Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper +Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? + +HAMLET +On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares! +His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, +Would make them capable. Do not look upon me; +Lest with this piteous action you convert +My stern effects: then what I have to do +Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To whom do you speak this? + +HAMLET +Do you see nothing there? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. + +HAMLET +Nor did you nothing hear? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No, nothing but ourselves. + +HAMLET +Why, look you there! look, how it steals away! +My father, in his habit as he lived! +Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! + +Exit Ghost + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +This the very coinage of your brain: +This bodiless creation ecstasy +Is very cunning in. + +HAMLET +Ecstasy! +My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, +And makes as healthful music: it is not madness +That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, +And I the matter will re-word; which madness +Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, +Lay not that mattering unction to your soul, +That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: +It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, +Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, +Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; +Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; +And do not spread the compost on the weeds, +To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; +For in the fatness of these pursy times +Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, +Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. + +HAMLET +O, throw away the worser part of it, +And live the purer with the other half. +Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; +Assume a virtue, if you have it not. +That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, +Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, +That to the use of actions fair and good +He likewise gives a frock or livery, +That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night, +And that shall lend a kind of easiness +To the next abstinence: the next more easy; +For use almost can change the stamp of nature, +And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out +With wondrous potency. Once more, good night: +And when you are desirous to be bless'd, +I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, + +Pointing to POLONIUS + +I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, +To punish me with this and this with me, +That I must be their scourge and minister. +I will bestow him, and will answer well +The death I gave him. So, again, good night. +I must be cruel, only to be kind: +Thus bad begins and worse remains behind. +One word more, good lady. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What shall I do? + +HAMLET +Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: +Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; +Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; +And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, +Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, +Make you to ravel all this matter out, +That I essentially am not in madness, +But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; +For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, +Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, +Such dear concernings hide? who would do so? +No, in despite of sense and secrecy, +Unpeg the basket on the house's top. +Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, +To try conclusions, in the basket creep, +And break your own neck down. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, +And breath of life, I have no life to breathe +What thou hast said to me. + +HAMLET +I must to England; you know that? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alack, +I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. + +HAMLET +There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows, +Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, +They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, +And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; +For 'tis the sport to have the engineer +Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard +But I will delve one yard below their mines, +And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet, +When in one line two crafts directly meet. +This man shall set me packing: +I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. +Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor +Is now most still, most secret and most grave, +Who was in life a foolish prating knave. +Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. +Good night, mother. + +Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves: +You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them. +Where is your son? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Bestow this place on us a little while. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! + +KING CLAUDIUS +What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend +Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit, +Behind the arras hearing something stir, +Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!' +And, in this brainish apprehension, kills +The unseen good old man. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O heavy deed! +It had been so with us, had we been there: +His liberty is full of threats to all; +To you yourself, to us, to every one. +Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? +It will be laid to us, whose providence +Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt, +This mad young man: but so much was our love, +We would not understand what was most fit; +But, like the owner of a foul disease, +To keep it from divulging, let it feed +Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: +O'er whom his very madness, like some ore +Among a mineral of metals base, +Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O Gertrude, come away! +The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, +But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed +We must, with all our majesty and skill, +Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Friends both, go join you with some further aid: +Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, +And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him: +Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body +Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends; +And let them know, both what we mean to do, +And what's untimely done. O, come away! +My soul is full of discord and dismay. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another room in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET +HAMLET +Safely stowed. + +ROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN: +[Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What noise? who calls on Hamlet? +O, here they come. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +ROSENCRANTZ +What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? + +HAMLET +Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence +And bear it to the chapel. + +HAMLET +Do not believe it. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Believe what? + +HAMLET +That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. +Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what +replication should be made by the son of a king? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Take you me for a sponge, my lord? + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his +rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the +king best service in the end: he keeps them, like +an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to +be last swallowed: when he needs what you have +gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you +shall be dry again. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I understand you not, my lord. + +HAMLET +I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a +foolish ear. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go +with us to the king. + +HAMLET +The body is with the king, but the king is not with +the body. The king is a thing-- + +GUILDENSTERN +A thing, my lord! + +HAMLET +Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Another room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, attended +KING CLAUDIUS +I have sent to seek him, and to find the body. +How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! +Yet must not we put the strong law on him: +He's loved of the distracted multitude, +Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; +And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd, +But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even, +This sudden sending him away must seem +Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown +By desperate appliance are relieved, +Or not at all. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ + +How now! what hath befall'n? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, +We cannot get from him. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But where is he? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Bring him before us. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord. + +Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? + +HAMLET +At supper. + +KING CLAUDIUS +At supper! where? + +HAMLET +Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain +convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your +worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all +creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for +maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but +variable service, two dishes, but to one table: +that's the end. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Alas, alas! + +HAMLET +A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a +king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What dost you mean by this? + +HAMLET +Nothing but to show you how a king may go a +progress through the guts of a beggar. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Where is Polonius? + +HAMLET +In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger +find him not there, seek him i' the other place +yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within +this month, you shall nose him as you go up the +stairs into the lobby. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Go seek him there. + +To some Attendants + +HAMLET +He will stay till ye come. + +Exeunt Attendants + +KING CLAUDIUS +Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-- +Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve +For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence +With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself; +The bark is ready, and the wind at help, +The associates tend, and every thing is bent +For England. + +HAMLET +For England! + +KING CLAUDIUS +Ay, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +Good. + +KING CLAUDIUS +So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. + +HAMLET +I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for +England! Farewell, dear mother. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thy loving father, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man +and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England! + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard; +Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night: +Away! for every thing is seal'd and done +That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught-- +As my great power thereof may give thee sense, +Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red +After the Danish sword, and thy free awe +Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set +Our sovereign process; which imports at full, +By letters congruing to that effect, +The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; +For like the hectic in my blood he rages, +And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done, +Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark. + +Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; +Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras +Craves the conveyance of a promised march +Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. +If that his majesty would aught with us, +We shall express our duty in his eye; +And let him know so. + +Captain +I will do't, my lord. + +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go softly on. + +Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers + +Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +HAMLET +Good sir, whose powers are these? + +Captain +They are of Norway, sir. + +HAMLET +How purposed, sir, I pray you? + +Captain +Against some part of Poland. + +HAMLET +Who commands them, sir? + +Captain +The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras. + +HAMLET +Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, +Or for some frontier? + +Captain +Truly to speak, and with no addition, +We go to gain a little patch of ground +That hath in it no profit but the name. +To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; +Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole +A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. + +HAMLET +Why, then the Polack never will defend it. + +Captain +Yes, it is already garrison'd. + +HAMLET +Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats +Will not debate the question of this straw: +This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace, +That inward breaks, and shows no cause without +Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir. + +All's Well That Ends Well +Shakespeare homepage | All's Well That Ends Well | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black +COUNTESS +In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. + +BERTRAM +And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death +anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to +whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. + +LAFEU +You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, +sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times +good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose +worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather +than lack it where there is such abundance. + +COUNTESS +What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? + +LAFEU +He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose +practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and +finds no other advantage in the process but only the +losing of hope by time. + +COUNTESS +This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that +'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was +almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so +far, would have made nature immortal, and death +should have play for lack of work. Would, for the +king's sake, he were living! I think it would be +the death of the king's disease. + +LAFEU +How called you the man you speak of, madam? + +COUNTESS +He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was +his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + +LAFEU +He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very +lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he +was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge +could be set up against mortality. + +BERTRAM +What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? + +LAFEU +A fistula, my lord. + +BERTRAM +I heard not of it before. + +LAFEU +I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman +the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + +COUNTESS +His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my +overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that +her education promises; her dispositions she +inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where +an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there +commendations go with pity; they are virtues and +traitors too; in her they are the better for their +simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. + +LAFEU +Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. + +COUNTESS +'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise +in. The remembrance of her father never approaches +her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all +livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; +go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect +a sorrow than have it. + +HELENA +I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + +LAFEU +Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessive grief the enemy to the living. + +COUNTESS +If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess +makes it soon mortal. + +BERTRAM +Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + +LAFEU +How understand we that? + +COUNTESS +Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father +In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue +Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness +Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, +Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy +Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend +Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence, +But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, +That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, +Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; +'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, +Advise him. + +LAFEU +He cannot want the best +That shall attend his love. + +COUNTESS +Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +[To HELENA] The best wishes that can be forged in +your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable +to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. + +LAFEU +Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of +your father. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU + +HELENA +O, were that all! I think not on my father; +And these great tears grace his remembrance more +Than those I shed for him. What was he like? +I have forgot him: my imagination +Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. +I am undone: there is no living, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one +That I should love a bright particular star +And think to wed it, he is so above me: +In his bright radiance and collateral light +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. +The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: +The hind that would be mated by the lion +Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague, +To see him every hour; to sit and draw +His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, +In our heart's table; heart too capable +Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy +Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +Enter PAROLLES + +Aside + +One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; +And yet I know him a notorious liar, +Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; +Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, +That they take place, when virtue's steely bones +Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see +Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + +PAROLLES +Save you, fair queen! + +HELENA +And you, monarch! + +PAROLLES +No. + +HELENA +And no. + +PAROLLES +Are you meditating on virginity? + +HELENA +Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me +ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how +may we barricado it against him? + +PAROLLES +Keep him out. + +HELENA +But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, +in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some +warlike resistance. + +PAROLLES +There is none: man, sitting down before you, will +undermine you and blow you up. + +HELENA +Bless our poor virginity from underminers and +blowers up! Is there no military policy, how +virgins might blow up men? + +PAROLLES +Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be +blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with +the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It +is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to +preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational +increase and there was never virgin got till +virginity was first lost. That you were made of is +metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost +may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is +ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't! + +HELENA +I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. + +PAROLLES +There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the +rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, +is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible +disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: +virginity murders itself and should be buried in +highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate +offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, +much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very +paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. +Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of +self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the +canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose +by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make +itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the +principal itself not much the worse: away with 't! + +HELENA +How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? + +PAROLLES +Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it +likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with +lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't +while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. +Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out +of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just +like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not +now. Your date is better in your pie and your +porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, +your old virginity, is like one of our French +withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, +'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; +marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it? + +HELENA +Not my virginity yet [ ] +There shall your master have a thousand loves, +A mother and a mistress and a friend, +A phoenix, captain and an enemy, +A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, +A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; +His humble ambition, proud humility, +His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, +His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world +Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- +I know not what he shall. God send him well! +The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + +PAROLLES +What one, i' faith? + +HELENA +That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + +PAROLLES +What's pity? + +HELENA +That wishing well had not a body in't, +Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, +Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends, +And show what we alone must think, which never +Return us thanks. + +Enter Page + +Page +Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I +will think of thee at court. + +HELENA +Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. + +PAROLLES +Under Mars, I. + +HELENA +I especially think, under Mars. + +PAROLLES +Why under Mars? + +HELENA +The wars have so kept you under that you must needs +be born under Mars. + +PAROLLES +When he was predominant. + +HELENA +When he was retrograde, I think, rather. + +PAROLLES +Why think you so? + +HELENA +You go so much backward when you fight. + +PAROLLES +That's for advantage. + +HELENA +So is running away, when fear proposes the safety; +but the composition that your valour and fear makes +in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. + +PAROLLES +I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee +acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the +which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize +thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's +counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon +thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and +thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When +thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast +none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, +and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell. + +Exit + +HELENA +Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, +Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky +Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull +Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. +What power is it which mounts my love so high, +That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune nature brings +To join like likes and kiss like native things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose +What hath been cannot be: who ever strove +So show her merit, that did miss her love? +The king's disease--my project may deceive me, +But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and divers Attendants +KING +The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; +Have fought with equal fortune and continue +A braving war. + +First Lord +So 'tis reported, sir. + +KING +Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it +A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, +With caution that the Florentine will move us +For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend +Prejudicates the business and would seem +To have us make denial. + +First Lord +His love and wisdom, +Approved so to your majesty, may plead +For amplest credence. + +KING +He hath arm'd our answer, +And Florence is denied before he comes: +Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see +The Tuscan service, freely have they leave +To stand on either part. + +Second Lord +It well may serve +A nursery to our gentry, who are sick +For breathing and exploit. + +KING +What's he comes here? + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + +First Lord +It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, +Young Bertram. + +KING +Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; +Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, +Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts +Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. + +BERTRAM +My thanks and duty are your majesty's. + +KING +I would I had that corporal soundness now, +As when thy father and myself in friendship +First tried our soldiership! He did look far +Into the service of the time and was +Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; +But on us both did haggish age steal on +And wore us out of act. It much repairs me +To talk of your good father. In his youth +He had the wit which I can well observe +To-day in our young lords; but they may jest +Till their own scorn return to them unnoted +Ere they can hide their levity in honour; +So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness +Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, +His equal had awaked them, and his honour, +Clock to itself, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speak, and at this time +His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him +He used as creatures of another place +And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, +Making them proud of his humility, +In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man +Might be a copy to these younger times; +Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward. + +BERTRAM +His good remembrance, sir, +Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; +So in approof lives not his epitaph +As in your royal speech. + +KING +Would I were with him! He would always say-- +Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words +He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, +To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'-- +This his good melancholy oft began, +On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, +When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he, +'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff +Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses +All but new things disdain; whose judgments are +Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies +Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd; +I after him do after him wish too, +Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, +I quickly were dissolved from my hive, +To give some labourers room. + +Second Lord +You are loved, sir: +They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + +KING +I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, +Since the physician at your father's died? +He was much famed. + +BERTRAM +Some six months since, my lord. + +KING +If he were living, I would try him yet. +Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out +With several applications; nature and sickness +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; +My son's no dearer. + +BERTRAM +Thank your majesty. + +Exeunt. Flourish + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown +COUNTESS +I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? + +Steward +Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I +wish might be found in the calendar of my past +endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make +foul the clearness of our deservings, when of +ourselves we publish them. + +COUNTESS +What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: +the complaints I have heard of you I do not all +believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know +you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability +enough to make such knaveries yours. + +Clown +'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. + +COUNTESS +Well, sir. + +Clown +No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though +many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have +your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel +the woman and I will do as we may. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + +Clown +I do beg your good will in this case. + +COUNTESS +In what case? + +Clown +In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no +heritage: and I think I shall never have the +blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for +they say barnes are blessings. + +COUNTESS +Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + +Clown +My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on +by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. + +COUNTESS +Is this all your worship's reason? + +Clown +Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they +are. + +COUNTESS +May the world know them? + +Clown +I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and +all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry +that I may repent. + +COUNTESS +Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. + +Clown +I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have +friends for my wife's sake. + +COUNTESS +Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + +Clown +You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the +knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. +He that ears my land spares my team and gives me +leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my +drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher +of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh +and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my +flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses +my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to +be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; +for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the +Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in +religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl +horns together, like any deer i' the herd. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? + +Clown +A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next +way: +For I the ballad will repeat, +Which men full true shall find; +Your marriage comes by destiny, +Your cuckoo sings by kind. + +COUNTESS +Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. + +Steward +May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to +you: of her I am to speak. + +COUNTESS +Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; +Helen, I mean. + +Clown +Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, +Why the Grecians sacked Troy? +Fond done, done fond, +Was this King Priam's joy? +With that she sighed as she stood, +With that she sighed as she stood, +And gave this sentence then; +Among nine bad if one be good, +Among nine bad if one be good, +There's yet one good in ten. + +COUNTESS +What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. + +Clown +One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying +o' the song: would God would serve the world so all +the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman, +if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we +might have a good woman born but one every blazing +star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery +well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck +one. + +COUNTESS +You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you. + +Clown +That man should be at woman's command, and yet no +hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it +will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of +humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am +going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +Well, now. + +Steward +I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. + +COUNTESS +Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and +she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully +make title to as much love as she finds: there is +more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid +her than she'll demand. + +Steward +Madam, I was very late more near her than I think +she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate +to herself her own words to her own ears; she +thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any +stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: +Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put +such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no +god, that would not extend his might, only where +qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that +would suffer her poor knight surprised, without +rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. +This she delivered in the most bitter touch of +sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I +held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; +sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns +you something to know it. + +COUNTESS +You have discharged this honestly; keep it to +yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this +before, which hung so tottering in the balance that +I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, +leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you +for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. + +Exit Steward + +Enter HELENA + +Even so it was with me when I was young: +If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn +Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; +Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; +It is the show and seal of nature's truth, +Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: +By our remembrances of days foregone, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. +Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now. + +HELENA +What is your pleasure, madam? + +COUNTESS +You know, Helen, +I am a mother to you. + +HELENA +Mine honourable mistress. + +COUNTESS +Nay, a mother: +Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,' +Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,' +That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; +And put you in the catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen +Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds +A native slip to us from foreign seeds: +You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, +Yet I express to you a mother's care: +God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, +That this distemper'd messenger of wet, +The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? +Why? that you are my daughter? + +HELENA +That I am not. + +COUNTESS +I say, I am your mother. + +HELENA +Pardon, madam; +The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: +I am from humble, he from honour'd name; +No note upon my parents, his all noble: +My master, my dear lord he is; and I +His servant live, and will his vassal die: +He must not be my brother. + +COUNTESS +Nor I your mother? + +HELENA +You are my mother, madam; would you were,-- +So that my lord your son were not my brother,-- +Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for than I do for heaven, +So I were not his sister. Can't no other, +But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + +COUNTESS +Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: +God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother +So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? +My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see +The mystery of your loneliness, and find +Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross +You love my son; invention is ashamed, +Against the proclamation of thy passion, +To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; +But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks +Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes +See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors +That in their kind they speak it: only sin +And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, +That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? +If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; +If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, +As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, +Tell me truly. + +HELENA +Good madam, pardon me! + +COUNTESS +Do you love my son? + +HELENA +Your pardon, noble mistress! + +COUNTESS +Love you my son? + +HELENA +Do not you love him, madam? + +COUNTESS +Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, +Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose +The state of your affection; for your passions +Have to the full appeach'd. + +HELENA +Then, I confess, +Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, +That before you, and next unto high heaven, +I love your son. +My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: +Be not offended; for it hurts not him +That he is loved of me: I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suit; +Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; +Yet never know how that desert should be. +I know I love in vain, strive against hope; +Yet in this captious and intenible sieve +I still pour in the waters of my love +And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, +Religious in mine error, I adore +The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, +But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, +Let not your hate encounter with my love +For loving where you do: but if yourself, +Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, +Did ever in so true a flame of liking +Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian +Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity +To her, whose state is such that cannot choose +But lend and give where she is sure to lose; +That seeks not to find that her search implies, +But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! + +COUNTESS +Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,-- +To go to Paris? + +HELENA +Madam, I had. + +COUNTESS +Wherefore? tell true. + +HELENA +I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. +You know my father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience had collected +For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me +In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them, +As notes whose faculties inclusive were +More than they were in note: amongst the rest, +There is a remedy, approved, set down, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The king is render'd lost. + +COUNTESS +This was your motive +For Paris, was it? speak. + +HELENA +My lord your son made me to think of this; +Else Paris and the medicine and the king +Had from the conversation of my thoughts +Haply been absent then. + +COUNTESS +But think you, Helen, +If you should tender your supposed aid, +He would receive it? he and his physicians +Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, +They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit +A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, +Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off +The danger to itself? + +HELENA +There's something in't, +More than my father's skill, which was the greatest +Of his profession, that his good receipt +Shall for my legacy be sanctified +By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour +But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture +The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure +By such a day and hour. + +COUNTESS +Dost thou believe't? + +HELENA +Ay, madam, knowingly. + +COUNTESS +Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, +Means and attendants and my loving greetings +To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home +And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: +Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, +What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES +KING +Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles +Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: +Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all +The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received, +And is enough for both. + +First Lord +'Tis our hope, sir, +After well enter'd soldiers, to return +And find your grace in health. + +KING +No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart +Will not confess he owes the malady +That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; +Whether I live or die, be you the sons +Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- +Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last monarchy,--see that you come +Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when +The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, +That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell. + +Second Lord +Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! + +KING +Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: +They say, our French lack language to deny, +If they demand: beware of being captives, +Before you serve. + +Both +Our hearts receive your warnings. + +KING +Farewell. Come hither to me. + +Exit, attended + +First Lord +O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + +PAROLLES +'Tis not his fault, the spark. + +Second Lord +O, 'tis brave wars! + +PAROLLES +Most admirable: I have seen those wars. + +BERTRAM +I am commanded here, and kept a coil with +'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.' + +PAROLLES +An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely. + +BERTRAM +I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, +Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, +Till honour be bought up and no sword worn +But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. + +First Lord +There's honour in the theft. + +PAROLLES +Commit it, count. + +Second Lord +I am your accessary; and so, farewell. + +BERTRAM +I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. + +First Lord +Farewell, captain. + +Second Lord +Sweet Monsieur Parolles! + +PAROLLES +Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good +sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall +find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain +Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here +on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword +entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his +reports for me. + +First Lord +We shall, noble captain. + +Exeunt Lords + +PAROLLES +Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do? + +BERTRAM +Stay: the king. + +Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the +noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the +list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to +them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the +time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and +move under the influence of the most received star; +and though the devil lead the measure, such are to +be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. + +BERTRAM +And I will do so. + +PAROLLES +Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES + +Enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + +KING +I'll fee thee to stand up. + +LAFEU +Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon. +I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + +KING +I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, +And ask'd thee mercy for't. + +LAFEU +Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus; +Will you be cured of your infirmity? + +KING +No. + +LAFEU +O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? +Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if +My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine +That's able to breathe life into a stone, +Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary +With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, +Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, +To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, +And write to her a love-line. + +KING +What 'her' is this? + +LAFEU +Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived, +If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, +If seriously I may convey my thoughts +In this my light deliverance, I have spoke +With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, +Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more +Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her +For that is her demand, and know her business? +That done, laugh well at me. + +KING +Now, good Lafeu, +Bring in the admiration; that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wondering how thou took'st it. + +LAFEU +Nay, I'll fit you, +And not be all day neither. + +Exit + +KING +Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + +Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways. + +KING +This haste hath wings indeed. + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways: +This is his majesty; say your mind to him: +A traitor you do look like; but such traitors +His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, +That dare leave two together; fare you well. + +Exit + +KING +Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + +HELENA +Ay, my good lord. +Gerard de Narbon was my father; +In what he did profess, well found. + +KING +I knew him. + +HELENA +The rather will I spare my praises towards him: +Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death +Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. +Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, +And of his old experience the oily darling, +He bade me store up, as a triple eye, +Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; +And hearing your high majesty is touch'd +With that malignant cause wherein the honour +Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, +I come to tender it and my appliance +With all bound humbleness. + +KING +We thank you, maiden; +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned doctors leave us and +The congregated college have concluded +That labouring art can never ransom nature +From her inaidible estate; I say we must not +So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, +To prostitute our past-cure malady +To empirics, or to dissever so +Our great self and our credit, to esteem +A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + +HELENA +My duty then shall pay me for my pains: +I will no more enforce mine office on you. +Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts +A modest one, to bear me back a again. + +KING +I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: +Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give +As one near death to those that wish him live: +But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, +I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + +HELENA +What I can do can do no hurt to try, +Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. +He that of greatest works is finisher +Oft does them by the weakest minister: +So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, +When judges have been babes; great floods have flown +From simple sources, and great seas have dried +When miracles have by the greatest been denied. +Oft expectation fails and most oft there +Where most it promises, and oft it hits +Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. + +KING +I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; +Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: +Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + +HELENA +Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: +It is not so with Him that all things knows +As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; +But most it is presumption in us when +The help of heaven we count the act of men. +Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; +Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an impostor that proclaim +Myself against the level of mine aim; +But know I think and think I know most sure +My art is not past power nor you past cure. + +KING +Are thou so confident? within what space +Hopest thou my cure? + +HELENA +The great'st grace lending grace +Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, +Ere twice in murk and occidental damp +Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, +Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass +Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, +What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, +Health shall live free and sickness freely die. + +KING +Upon thy certainty and confidence +What darest thou venture? + +HELENA +Tax of impudence, +A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame +Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name +Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended +With vilest torture let my life be ended. + +KING +Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerful sound within an organ weak: +And what impossibility would slay +In common sense, sense saves another way. +Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate +Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, +Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all +That happiness and prime can happy call: +Thou this to hazard needs must intimate +Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. +Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, +That ministers thine own death if I die. + +HELENA +If I break time, or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, +And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee; +But, if I help, what do you promise me? + +KING +Make thy demand. + +HELENA +But will you make it even? + +KING +Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. + +HELENA +Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command: +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royal blood of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state; +But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know +Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + +KING +Here is my hand; the premises observed, +Thy will by my performance shall be served: +So make the choice of thy own time, for I, +Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. +More should I question thee, and more I must, +Though more to know could not be more to trust, +From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest +Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. +Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed +As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of +your breeding. + +Clown +I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I +know my business is but to the court. + +COUNTESS +To the court! why, what place make you special, +when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! + +Clown +Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he +may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make +a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, +has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed +such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the +court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all +men. + +COUNTESS +Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all +questions. + +Clown +It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, +the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn +buttock, or any buttock. + +COUNTESS +Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + +Clown +As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, +as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's +rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove +Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his +hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen +to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the +friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + +COUNTESS +Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all +questions? + +Clown +From below your duke to beneath your constable, it +will fit any question. + +COUNTESS +It must be an answer of most monstrous size that +must fit all demands. + +Clown +But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned +should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that +belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall +do you no harm to learn. + +COUNTESS +To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in +question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I +pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + +Clown +O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, +more, a hundred of them. + +COUNTESS +Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. + +COUNTESS +I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. + +COUNTESS +You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! spare not me. + +COUNTESS +Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and +'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very +sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well +to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. + +Clown +I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, +sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. + +COUNTESS +I play the noble housewife with the time +To entertain't so merrily with a fool. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. + +COUNTESS +An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this, +And urge her to a present answer back: +Commend me to my kinsmen and my son: +This is not much. + +Clown +Not much commendation to them. + +COUNTESS +Not much employment for you: you understand me? + +Clown +Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. + +COUNTESS +Haste you again. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE III. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES +LAFEU +They say miracles are past; and we have our +philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, +things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that +we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves +into seeming knowledge, when we should submit +ourselves to an unknown fear. + +PAROLLES +Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath +shot out in our latter times. + +BERTRAM +And so 'tis. + +LAFEU +To be relinquish'd of the artists,-- + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Both of Galen and Paracelsus. + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Of all the learned and authentic fellows,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; so I say. + +LAFEU +That gave him out incurable,-- + +PAROLLES +Why, there 'tis; so say I too. + +LAFEU +Not to be helped,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a-- + +LAFEU +Uncertain life, and sure death. + +PAROLLES +Just, you say well; so would I have said. + +LAFEU +I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. + +PAROLLES +It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you +shall read it in--what do you call there? + +LAFEU +A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. + +PAROLLES +That's it; I would have said the very same. + +LAFEU +Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, +I speak in respect-- + +PAROLLES +Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the +brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most +facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the-- + +LAFEU +Very hand of heaven. + +PAROLLES +Ay, so I say. + +LAFEU +In a most weak-- + +pausing + +and debile minister, great power, great +transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a +further use to be made than alone the recovery of +the king, as to be-- + +pausing + +generally thankful. + +PAROLLES +I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. + +Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and PAROLLES retire + +LAFEU +Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the +better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's +able to lead her a coranto. + +PAROLLES +Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? + +LAFEU +'Fore God, I think so. + +KING +Go, call before me all the lords in court. +Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; +And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense +Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive +The confirmation of my promised gift, +Which but attends thy naming. + +Enter three or four Lords + +Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel +Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, +O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice +I have to use: thy frank election make; +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + +HELENA +To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress +Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one! + +LAFEU +I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture, +My mouth no more were broken than these boys', +And writ as little beard. + +KING +Peruse them well: +Not one of those but had a noble father. + +HELENA +Gentlemen, +Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. + +All +We understand it, and thank heaven for you. + +HELENA +I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest, +That I protest I simply am a maid. +Please it your majesty, I have done already: +The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, +'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused, +Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; +We'll ne'er come there again.' + +KING +Make choice; and, see, +Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + +HELENA +Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, +And to imperial Love, that god most high, +Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit? + +First Lord +And grant it. + +HELENA +Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. + +LAFEU +I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace +for my life. + +HELENA +The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, +Before I speak, too threateningly replies: +Love make your fortunes twenty times above +Her that so wishes and her humble love! + +Second Lord +No better, if you please. + +HELENA +My wish receive, +Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave. + +LAFEU +Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, +I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the +Turk, to make eunuchs of. + +HELENA +Be not afraid that I your hand should take; +I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: +Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed +Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! + +LAFEU +These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: +sure, they are bastards to the English; the French +ne'er got 'em. + +HELENA +You are too young, too happy, and too good, +To make yourself a son out of my blood. + +Fourth Lord +Fair one, I think not so. + +LAFEU +There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk +wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth +of fourteen; I have known thee already. + +HELENA +[To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give +Me and my service, ever whilst I live, +Into your guiding power. This is the man. + +KING +Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. + +BERTRAM +My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, +In such a business give me leave to use +The help of mine own eyes. + +KING +Know'st thou not, Bertram, +What she has done for me? + +BERTRAM +Yes, my good lord; +But never hope to know why I should marry her. + +KING +Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + +BERTRAM +But follows it, my lord, to bring me down +Must answer for your raising? I know her well: +She had her breeding at my father's charge. +A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain +Rather corrupt me ever! + +KING +'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which +I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, +Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, +Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off +In differences so mighty. If she be +All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, +A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest +Of virtue for the name: but do not so: +From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by the doer's deed: +Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, +It is a dropsied honour. Good alone +Is good without a name. Vileness is so: +The property by what it is should go, +Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; +In these to nature she's immediate heir, +And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, +Which challenges itself as honour's born +And is not like the sire: honours thrive, +When rather from our acts we them derive +Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave +Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave +A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb +Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb +Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? +If thou canst like this creature as a maid, +I can create the rest: virtue and she +Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. + +BERTRAM +I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. + +KING +Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. + +HELENA +That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: +Let the rest go. + +KING +My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, +I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, +Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; +That dost in vile misprision shackle up +My love and her desert; that canst not dream, +We, poising us in her defective scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, +It is in us to plant thine honour where +We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt: +Obey our will, which travails in thy good: +Believe not thy disdain, but presently +Do thine own fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy duty owes and our power claims; +Or I will throw thee from my care for ever +Into the staggers and the careless lapse +Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate +Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice, +Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. + +BERTRAM +Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit +My fancy to your eyes: when I consider +What great creation and what dole of honour +Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late +Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now +The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, +Is as 'twere born so. + +KING +Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise +A counterpoise, if not to thy estate +A balance more replete. + +BERTRAM +I take her hand. + +KING +Good fortune and the favour of the king +Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony +Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, +And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast +Shall more attend upon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her, +Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. + +Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES + +LAFEU +[Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. + +PAROLLES +Your pleasure, sir? + +LAFEU +Your lord and master did well to make his +recantation. + +PAROLLES +Recantation! My lord! my master! + +LAFEU +Ay; is it not a language I speak? + +PAROLLES +A most harsh one, and not to be understood without +bloody succeeding. My master! + +LAFEU +Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? + +PAROLLES +To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + +LAFEU +To what is count's man: count's master is of +another style. + +PAROLLES +You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. + +LAFEU +I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which +title age cannot bring thee. + +PAROLLES +What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + +LAFEU +I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty +wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy +travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the +bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from +believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I +have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care +not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and +that thou't scarce worth. + +PAROLLES +Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,-- + +LAFEU +Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou +hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee +for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee +well: thy casement I need not open, for I look +through thee. Give me thy hand. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. + +LAFEU +Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. + +PAROLLES +I have not, my lord, deserved it. + +LAFEU +Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not +bate thee a scruple. + +PAROLLES +Well, I shall be wiser. + +LAFEU +Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at +a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound +in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is +to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold +my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, +that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. + +LAFEU +I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor +doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by +thee, in what motion age will give me leave. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off +me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must +be patient; there is no fettering of authority. +I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with +any convenience, an he were double and double a +lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I +would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + +Re-enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news +for you: you have a new mistress. + +PAROLLES +I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make +some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good +lord: whom I serve above is my master. + +LAFEU +Who? God? + +PAROLLES +Ay, sir. + +LAFEU +The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou +garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of +sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set +thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine +honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat +thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and +every man should beat thee: I think thou wast +created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + +PAROLLES +This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. + +LAFEU +Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a +kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and +no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords +and honourable personages than the commission of your +birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not +worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; +let it be concealed awhile. + +Re-enter BERTRAM + +BERTRAM +Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! + +PAROLLES +What's the matter, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, +I will not bed her. + +PAROLLES +What, what, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +O my Parolles, they have married me! +I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. + +PAROLLES +France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits +The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! + +BERTRAM +There's letters from my mother: what the import is, +I know not yet. + +PAROLLES +Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! +He wears his honour in a box unseen, +That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, +Spending his manly marrow in her arms, +Which should sustain the bound and high curvet +Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions +France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades; +Therefore, to the war! + +BERTRAM +It shall be so: I'll send her to my house, +Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, +And wherefore I am fled; write to the king +That which I durst not speak; his present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, +Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife +To the dark house and the detested wife. + +PAROLLES +Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? + +BERTRAM +Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. +I'll send her straight away: to-morrow +I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + +PAROLLES +Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: +A young man married is a man that's marr'd: +Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: +The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter HELENA and Clown +HELENA +My mother greets me kindly; is she well? + +Clown +She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's +very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be +given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the +world; but yet she is not well. + +HELENA +If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's +not very well? + +Clown +Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + +HELENA +What two things? + +Clown +One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her +quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence +God send her quickly! + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Bless you, my fortunate lady! + +HELENA +I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own +good fortunes. + +PAROLLES +You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them +on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady? + +Clown +So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, +I would she did as you say. + +PAROLLES +Why, I say nothing. + +Clown +Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's +tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say +nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have +nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which +is within a very little of nothing. + +PAROLLES +Away! thou'rt a knave. + +Clown +You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a +knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had +been truth, sir. + +PAROLLES +Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. + +Clown +Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you +taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; +and much fool may you find in you, even to the +world's pleasure and the increase of laughter. + +PAROLLES +A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. +Madam, my lord will go away to-night; +A very serious business calls on him. +The great prerogative and rite of love, +Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; +But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; +Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, +Which they distil now in the curbed time, +To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy +And pleasure drown the brim. + +HELENA +What's his will else? + +PAROLLES +That you will take your instant leave o' the king +And make this haste as your own good proceeding, +Strengthen'd with what apology you think +May make it probable need. + +HELENA +What more commands he? + +PAROLLES +That, having this obtain'd, you presently +Attend his further pleasure. + +HELENA +In every thing I wait upon his will. + +PAROLLES +I shall report it so. + +HELENA +I pray you. + +Exit PAROLLES + +Come, sirrah. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM +LAFEU +But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. + +BERTRAM +Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + +LAFEU +You have it from his own deliverance. + +BERTRAM +And by other warranted testimony. + +LAFEU +Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting. + +BERTRAM +I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in +knowledge and accordingly valiant. + +LAFEU +I have then sinned against his experience and +transgressed against his valour; and my state that +way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my +heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make +us friends; I will pursue the amity. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir. + +LAFEU +Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + +PAROLLES +Sir? + +LAFEU +O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good +workman, a very good tailor. + +BERTRAM +[Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the king? + +PAROLLES +She is. + +BERTRAM +Will she away to-night? + +PAROLLES +As you'll have her. + +BERTRAM +I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, +Given order for our horses; and to-night, +When I should take possession of the bride, +End ere I do begin. + +LAFEU +A good traveller is something at the latter end of a +dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a +known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should +be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain. + +BERTRAM +Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? + +PAROLLES +I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's +displeasure. + +LAFEU +You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs +and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and +out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer +question for your residence. + +BERTRAM +It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + +LAFEU +And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's +prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this +of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the +soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in +matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them +tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur: +I have spoken better of you than you have or will to +deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +An idle lord. I swear. + +BERTRAM +I think so. + +PAROLLES +Why, do you not know him? + +BERTRAM +Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. + +Enter HELENA + +HELENA +I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, +Spoke with the king and have procured his leave +For present parting; only he desires +Some private speech with you. + +BERTRAM +I shall obey his will. +You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, +Which holds not colour with the time, nor does +The ministration and required office +On my particular. Prepared I was not +For such a business; therefore am I found +So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you +That presently you take our way for home; +And rather muse than ask why I entreat you, +For my respects are better than they seem +And my appointments have in them a need +Greater than shows itself at the first view +To you that know them not. This to my mother: + +Giving a letter + +'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so +I leave you to your wisdom. + +HELENA +Sir, I can nothing say, +But that I am your most obedient servant. + +BERTRAM +Come, come, no more of that. + +HELENA +And ever shall +With true observance seek to eke out that +Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd +To equal my great fortune. + +BERTRAM +Let that go: +My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. + +HELENA +Pray, sir, your pardon. + +BERTRAM +Well, what would you say? + +HELENA +I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; +But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal +What law does vouch mine own. + +BERTRAM +What would you have? + +HELENA +Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed. +I would not tell you what I would, my lord: +Faith yes; +Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. + +BERTRAM +I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. + +HELENA +I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. + +BERTRAM +Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. + +Exit HELENA + +Go thou toward home; where I will never come +Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. +Away, and for our flight. + +PAROLLES +Bravely, coragio! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Florence. The DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended; the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. +DUKE +So that from point to point now have you heard +The fundamental reasons of this war, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after. + +First Lord +Holy seems the quarrel +Upon your grace's part; black and fearful +On the opposer. + +DUKE +Therefore we marvel much our cousin France +Would in so just a business shut his bosom +Against our borrowing prayers. + +Second Lord +Good my lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yield, +But like a common and an outward man, +That the great figure of a council frames +By self-unable motion: therefore dare not +Say what I think of it, since I have found +Myself in my incertain grounds to fail +As often as I guess'd. + +DUKE +Be it his pleasure. + +First Lord +But I am sure the younger of our nature, +That surfeit on their ease, will day by day +Come here for physic. + +DUKE +Welcome shall they be; +And all the honours that can fly from us +Shall on them settle. You know your places well; +When better fall, for your avails they fell: +To-morrow to the field. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +It hath happened all as I would have had it, save +that he comes not along with her. + +Clown +By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very +melancholy man. + +COUNTESS +By what observance, I pray you? + +Clown +Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the +ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his +teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of +melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + +COUNTESS +Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. + +Opening a letter + +Clown +I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our +old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing +like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: +the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to +love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + +COUNTESS +What have we here? + +Clown +E'en that you have there. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +[Reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath +recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded +her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' +eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it +before the report come. If there be breadth enough +in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty +to you. Your unfortunate son, +BERTRAM. +This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. +To fly the favours of so good a king; +To pluck his indignation on thy head +By the misprising of a maid too virtuous +For the contempt of empire. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two +soldiers and my young lady! + +COUNTESS +What is the matter? + +Clown +Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some +comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I +thought he would. + +COUNTESS +Why should he be killed? + +Clown +So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: +the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of +men, though it be the getting of children. Here +they come will tell you more: for my part, I only +hear your son was run away. + +Exit + +Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen + +First Gentleman +Save you, good madam. + +HELENA +Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. + +Second Gentleman +Do not say so. + +COUNTESS +Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen, +I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, +That the first face of neither, on the start, +Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? + +Second Gentleman +Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: +We met him thitherward; for thence we came, +And, after some dispatch in hand at court, +Thither we bend again. + +HELENA +Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. + +Reads + +When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which +never shall come off, and show me a child begotten +of thy body that I am father to, then call me +husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' +This is a dreadful sentence. + +COUNTESS +Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam; +And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. + +COUNTESS +I prithee, lady, have a better cheer; +If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, +Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? + +Second Gentleman +Ay, madam. + +COUNTESS +And to be a soldier? + +Second Gentleman +Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't, +The duke will lay upon him all the honour +That good convenience claims. + +COUNTESS +Return you thither? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + +HELENA +[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. +'Tis bitter. + +COUNTESS +Find you that there? + +HELENA +Ay, madam. + +First Gentleman +'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his +heart was not consenting to. + +COUNTESS +Nothing in France, until he have no wife! +There's nothing here that is too good for him +But only she; and she deserves a lord +That twenty such rude boys might tend upon +And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + +First Gentleman +A servant only, and a gentleman +Which I have sometime known. + +COUNTESS +Parolles, was it not? + +First Gentleman +Ay, my good lady, he. + +COUNTESS +A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. +My son corrupts a well-derived nature +With his inducement. + +First Gentleman +Indeed, good lady, +The fellow has a deal of that too much, +Which holds him much to have. + +COUNTESS +You're welcome, gentlemen. +I will entreat you, when you see my son, +To tell him that his sword can never win +The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you +Written to bear along. + +Second Gentleman +We serve you, madam, +In that and all your worthiest affairs. + +COUNTESS +Not so, but as we change our courtesies. +Will you draw near! + +Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen + +HELENA +'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.' +Nothing in France, until he has no wife! +Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; +Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I +That chase thee from thy country and expose +Those tender limbs of thine to the event +Of the none-sparing war? and is it I +That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou +Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark +Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, +That ride upon the violent speed of fire, +Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, +That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. +Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; +Whoever charges on his forward breast, +I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; +And, though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected: better 'twere +I met the ravin lion when he roar'd +With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, +Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, +As oft it loses all: I will be gone; +My being here it is that holds thee hence: +Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although +The air of paradise did fan the house +And angels officed all: I will be gone, +That pitiful rumour may report my flight, +To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! +For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets +DUKE +The general of our horse thou art; and we, +Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence +Upon thy promising fortune. + +BERTRAM +Sir, it is +A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet +We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake +To the extreme edge of hazard. + +DUKE +Then go thou forth; +And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, +As thy auspicious mistress! + +BERTRAM +This very day, +Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove +A lover of thy drum, hater of love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Steward +COUNTESS +Alas! and would you take the letter of her? +Might you not know she would do as she has done, +By sending me a letter? Read it again. + +Steward +[Reads] +I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: +Ambitious love hath so in me offended, +That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, +With sainted vow my faults to have amended. +Write, write, that from the bloody course of war +My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: +Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far +His name with zealous fervor sanctify: +His taken labours bid him me forgive; +I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth +From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, +Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: +He is too good and fair for death and me: +Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. + +COUNTESS +Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! +Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, +As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, +I could have well diverted her intents, +Which thus she hath prevented. + +Steward +Pardon me, madam: +If I had given you this at over-night, +She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, +Pursuit would be but vain. + +COUNTESS +What angel shall +Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, +Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear +And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath +Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, +To this unworthy husband of his wife; +Let every word weigh heavy of her worth +That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. +Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. +Dispatch the most convenient messenger: +When haply he shall hear that she is gone, +He will return; and hope I may that she, +Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, +Led hither by pure love: which of them both +Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense +To make distinction: provide this messenger: +My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; +Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off. + +Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other Citizens +Widow +Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we +shall lose all the sight. + +DIANA +They say the French count has done most honourable service. + +Widow +It is reported that he has taken their greatest +commander; and that with his own hand he slew the +duke's brother. + +Tucket + +We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary +way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. + +MARIANA +Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with +the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this +French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and +no legacy is so rich as honesty. + +Widow +I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited +by a gentleman his companion. + +MARIANA +I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a +filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the +young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, +enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of +lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid +hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, +example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of +maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, +but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten +them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but +I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, +though there were no further danger known but the +modesty which is so lost. + +DIANA +You shall not need to fear me. + +Widow +I hope so. + +Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim + +Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at +my house; thither they send one another: I'll +question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? + +HELENA +To Saint Jaques le Grand. +Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + +Widow +At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + +HELENA +Is this the way? + +Widow +Ay, marry, is't. + +A march afar + +Hark you! they come this way. +If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, +But till the troops come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; +The rather, for I think I know your hostess +As ample as myself. + +HELENA +Is it yourself? + +Widow +If you shall please so, pilgrim. + +HELENA +I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + +Widow +You came, I think, from France? + +HELENA +I did so. + +Widow +Here you shall see a countryman of yours +That has done worthy service. + +HELENA +His name, I pray you. + +DIANA +The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? + +HELENA +But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: +His face I know not. + +DIANA +Whatsome'er he is, +He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, +As 'tis reported, for the king had married him +Against his liking: think you it is so? + +HELENA +Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. + +DIANA +There is a gentleman that serves the count +Reports but coarsely of her. + +HELENA +What's his name? + +DIANA +Monsieur Parolles. + +HELENA +O, I believe with him, +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great count himself, she is too mean +To have her name repeated: all her deserving +Is a reserved honesty, and that +I have not heard examined. + +DIANA +Alas, poor lady! +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting lord. + +Widow +I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, +Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her +A shrewd turn, if she pleased. + +HELENA +How do you mean? +May be the amorous count solicits her +In the unlawful purpose. + +Widow +He does indeed; +And brokes with all that can in such a suit +Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: +But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard +In honestest defence. + +MARIANA +The gods forbid else! + +Widow +So, now they come: + +Drum and Colours + +Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army + +That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; +That, Escalus. + +HELENA +Which is the Frenchman? + +DIANA +He; +That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. +I would he loved his wife: if he were honester +He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? + +HELENA +I like him well. + +DIANA +'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave +That leads him to these places: were I his lady, +I would Poison that vile rascal. + +HELENA +Which is he? + +DIANA +That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? + +HELENA +Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. + +PAROLLES +Lose our drum! well. + +MARIANA +He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. + +Widow +Marry, hang you! + +MARIANA +And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! + +Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army + +Widow +The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you +Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents +There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, +Already at my house. + +HELENA +I humbly thank you: +Please it this matron and this gentle maid +To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this virgin +Worthy the note. + +BOTH +We'll take your offer kindly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. + +Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords +Second Lord +Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his +way. + +First Lord +If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no +more in your respect. + +Second Lord +On my life, my lord, a bubble. + +BERTRAM +Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + +Second Lord +Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, +without any malice, but to speak of him as my +kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and +endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner +of no one good quality worthy your lordship's +entertainment. + +First Lord +It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in +his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some +great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. + +BERTRAM +I would I knew in what particular action to try him. + +First Lord +None better than to let him fetch off his drum, +which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. + +Second Lord +I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly +surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he +knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink +him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he +is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when +we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship +present at his examination: if he do not, for the +promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of +base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the +intelligence in his power against you, and that with +the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never +trust my judgment in any thing. + +First Lord +O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; +he says he has a stratagem for't: when your +lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to +what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be +melted, if you give him not John Drum's +entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. +Here he comes. + +Enter PAROLLES + +Second Lord +[Aside to BERTRAM] O, for the love of laughter, +hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch +off his drum in any hand. + +BERTRAM +How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your +disposition. + +First Lord +A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. + +PAROLLES +'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost! +There was excellent command,--to charge in with our +horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! + +First Lord +That was not to be blamed in the command of the +service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar +himself could not have prevented, if he had been +there to command. + +BERTRAM +Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some +dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is +not to be recovered. + +PAROLLES +It might have been recovered. + +BERTRAM +It might; but it is not now. + +PAROLLES +It is to be recovered: but that the merit of +service is seldom attributed to the true and exact +performer, I would have that drum or another, or +'hic jacet.' + +BERTRAM +Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you +think your mystery in stratagem can bring this +instrument of honour again into his native quarter, +be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will +grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you +speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. +and extend to you what further becomes his +greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your +worthiness. + +PAROLLES +By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + +BERTRAM +But you must not now slumber in it. + +PAROLLES +I'll about it this evening: and I will presently +pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my +certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; +and by midnight look to hear further from me. + +BERTRAM +May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? + +PAROLLES +I know not what the success will be, my lord; but +the attempt I vow. + +BERTRAM +I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of +thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + +PAROLLES +I love not many words. + +Exit + +Second Lord +No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a +strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems +to undertake this business, which he knows is not to +be done; damns himself to do and dares better be +damned than to do't? + +First Lord +You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it +is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and +for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but +when you find him out, you have him ever after. + +BERTRAM +Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of +this that so seriously he does address himself unto? + +Second Lord +None in the world; but return with an invention and +clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we +have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall +to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. + +First Lord +We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case +him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: +when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a +sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this +very night. + +Second Lord +I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. + +BERTRAM +Your brother he shall go along with me. + +Second Lord +As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +Now will I lead you to the house, and show you +The lass I spoke of. + +First Lord +But you say she's honest. + +BERTRAM +That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once +And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, +By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, +Tokens and letters which she did re-send; +And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: +Will you go see her? + +First Lord +With all my heart, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA and Widow +HELENA +If you misdoubt me that I am not she, +I know not how I shall assure you further, +But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + +Widow +Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses; +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act. + +HELENA +Nor would I wish you. +First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, +And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken +Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, +By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, +Err in bestowing it. + +Widow +I should believe you: +For you have show'd me that which well approves +You're great in fortune. + +HELENA +Take this purse of gold, +And let me buy your friendly help thus far, +Which I will over-pay and pay again +When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, +Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, +Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, +As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. +Now his important blood will nought deny +That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From son to son, some four or five descents +Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds +In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, +To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, +Howe'er repented after. + +Widow +Now I see +The bottom of your purpose. + +HELENA +You see it lawful, then: it is no more, +But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, +Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; +In fine, delivers me to fill the time, +Herself most chastely absent: after this, +To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns +To what is passed already. + +Widow +I have yielded: +Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, +That time and place with this deceit so lawful +May prove coherent. Every night he comes +With musics of all sorts and songs composed +To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us +To chide him from our eaves; for he persists +As if his life lay on't. + +HELENA +Why then to-night +Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed +And lawful meaning in a lawful act, +Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: +But let's about it. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. + +Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other Soldiers in ambush +Second Lord +He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. +When you sally upon him, speak what terrible +language you will: though you understand it not +yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to +understand him, unless some one among us whom we +must produce for an interpreter. + +First Soldier +Good captain, let me be the interpreter. + +Second Lord +Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? + +First Soldier +No, sir, I warrant you. + +Second Lord +But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? + +First Soldier +E'en such as you speak to me. + +Second Lord +He must think us some band of strangers i' the +adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of +all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every +one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we +speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to +know straight our purpose: choughs' language, +gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, +interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, +ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, +and then to return and swear the lies he forges. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be +time enough to go home. What shall I say I have +done? It must be a very plausive invention that +carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces +have of late knocked too often at my door. I find +my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the +fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not +daring the reports of my tongue. + +Second Lord +This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue +was guilty of. + +PAROLLES +What the devil should move me to undertake the +recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the +impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I +must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in +exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they +will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great +ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the +instance? Tongue, I must put you into a +butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of +Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. + +Second Lord +Is it possible he should know what he is, and be +that he is? + +PAROLLES +I would the cutting of my garments would serve the +turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. + +Second Lord +We cannot afford you so. + +PAROLLES +Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in +stratagem. + +Second Lord +'Twould not do. + +PAROLLES +Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. + +Second Lord +Hardly serve. + +PAROLLES +Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel. + +Second Lord +How deep? + +PAROLLES +Thirty fathom. + +Second Lord +Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. + +PAROLLES +I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear +I recovered it. + +Second Lord +You shall hear one anon. + +PAROLLES +A drum now of the enemy's,-- + +Alarum within + +Second Lord +Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. + +All +Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. + +PAROLLES +O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes. + +They seize and blindfold him + +First Soldier +Boskos thromuldo boskos. + +PAROLLES +I know you are the Muskos' regiment: +And I shall lose my life for want of language; +If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll +Discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + +First Soldier +Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak +thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy +faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. + +PAROLLES +O! + +First Soldier +O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche. + +Second Lord +Oscorbidulchos volivorco. + +First Soldier +The general is content to spare thee yet; +And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on +To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform +Something to save thy life. + +PAROLLES +O, let me live! +And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, +Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that +Which you will wonder at. + +First Soldier +But wilt thou faithfully? + +PAROLLES +If I do not, damn me. + +First Soldier +Acordo linta. +Come on; thou art granted space. + +Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within + +Second Lord +Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother, +We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled +Till we do hear from them. + +Second Soldier +Captain, I will. + +Second Lord +A' will betray us all unto ourselves: +Inform on that. + +Second Soldier +So I will, sir. + +Second Lord +Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter BERTRAM and DIANA +BERTRAM +They told me that your name was Fontibell. + +DIANA +No, my good lord, Diana. + +BERTRAM +Titled goddess; +And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, +In your fine frame hath love no quality? +If quick fire of youth light not your mind, +You are no maiden, but a monument: +When you are dead, you should be such a one +As you are now, for you are cold and stem; +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet self was got. + +DIANA +She then was honest. + +BERTRAM +So should you be. + +DIANA +No: +My mother did but duty; such, my lord, +As you owe to your wife. + +BERTRAM +No more o' that; +I prithee, do not strive against my vows: +I was compell'd to her; but I love thee +By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever +Do thee all rights of service. + +DIANA +Ay, so you serve us +Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, +You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves +And mock us with our bareness. + +BERTRAM +How have I sworn! + +DIANA +'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, +But the plain single vow that is vow'd true. +What is not holy, that we swear not by, +But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me, +If I should swear by God's great attributes, +I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, +When I did love you ill? This has no holding, +To swear by him whom I protest to love, +That I will work against him: therefore your oaths +Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd, +At least in my opinion. + +BERTRAM +Change it, change it; +Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; +And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts +That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, +But give thyself unto my sick desires, +Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever +My love as it begins shall so persever. + +DIANA +I see that men make ropes in such a scarre +That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + +BERTRAM +I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power +To give it from me. + +DIANA +Will you not, my lord? + +BERTRAM +It is an honour 'longing to our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose. + +DIANA +Mine honour's such a ring: +My chastity's the jewel of our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom +Brings in the champion Honour on my part, +Against your vain assault. + +BERTRAM +Here, take my ring: +My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, +And I'll be bid by thee. + +DIANA +When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: +I'll order take my mother shall not hear. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, +Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: +My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them +When back again this ring shall be deliver'd: +And on your finger in the night I'll put +Another ring, that what in time proceeds +May token to the future our past deeds. +Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won +A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + +BERTRAM +A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. + +Exit + +DIANA +For which live long to thank both heaven and me! +You may so in the end. +My mother told me just how he would woo, +As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men +Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me +When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, +Marry that will, I live and die a maid: +Only in this disguise I think't no sin +To cozen him that would unjustly win. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Florentine camp. + +Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers +First Lord +You have not given him his mother's letter? + +Second Lord +I have delivered it an hour since: there is +something in't that stings his nature; for on the +reading it he changed almost into another man. + +First Lord +He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking +off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + +Second Lord +Especially he hath incurred the everlasting +displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his +bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a +thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + +First Lord +When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the +grave of it. + +Second Lord +He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in +Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he +fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath +given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself +made in the unchaste composition. + +First Lord +Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, +what things are we! + +Second Lord +Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course +of all treasons, we still see them reveal +themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, +so he that in this action contrives against his own +nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. + +First Lord +Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of +our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his +company to-night? + +Second Lord +Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. + +First Lord +That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see +his company anatomized, that he might take a measure +of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had +set this counterfeit. + +Second Lord +We will not meddle with him till he come; for his +presence must be the whip of the other. + +First Lord +In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? + +Second Lord +I hear there is an overture of peace. + +First Lord +Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + +Second Lord +What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel +higher, or return again into France? + +First Lord +I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether +of his council. + +Second Lord +Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal +of his act. + +First Lord +Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his +house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques +le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere +sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the +tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her +grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and +now she sings in heaven. + +Second Lord +How is this justified? + +First Lord +The stronger part of it by her own letters, which +makes her story true, even to the point of her +death: her death itself, which could not be her +office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by +the rector of the place. + +Second Lord +Hath the count all this intelligence? + +First Lord +Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from +point, so to the full arming of the verity. + +Second Lord +I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. + +First Lord +How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! + +Second Lord +And how mightily some other times we drown our gain +in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath +here acquired for him shall at home be encountered +with a shame as ample. + +First Lord +The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and +ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our +faults whipped them not; and our crimes would +despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. + +Enter a Messenger + +How now! where's your master? + +Servant +He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath +taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next +morning for France. The duke hath offered him +letters of commendations to the king. + +Second Lord +They shall be no more than needful there, if they +were more than they can commend. + +First Lord +They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. +Here's his lordship now. + +Enter BERTRAM + +How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? + +BERTRAM +I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a +month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: +I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his +nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my +lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; +and between these main parcels of dispatch effected +many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but +that I have not ended yet. + +Second Lord +If the business be of any difficulty, and this +morning your departure hence, it requires haste of +your lordship. + +BERTRAM +I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to +hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this +dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, +bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived +me, like a double-meaning prophesier. + +Second Lord +Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, +poor gallant knave. + +BERTRAM +No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping +his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? + +Second Lord +I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry +him. But to answer you as you would be understood; +he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he +hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes +to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to +this very instant disaster of his setting i' the +stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? + +BERTRAM +Nothing of me, has a'? + +Second Lord +His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his +face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you +are, you must have the patience to hear it. + +Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier + +BERTRAM +A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of +me: hush, hush! + +First Lord +Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa + +First Soldier +He calls for the tortures: what will you say +without 'em? + +PAROLLES +I will confess what I know without constraint: if +ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. + +First Soldier +Bosko chimurcho. + +First Lord +Boblibindo chicurmurco. + +First Soldier +You are a merciful general. Our general bids you +answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. + +PAROLLES +And truly, as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'First demand of him how many horse the +duke is strong.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand; but very weak and +unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and +the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation +and credit and as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +Shall I set down your answer so? + +PAROLLES +Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. + +BERTRAM +All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! + +First Lord +You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur +Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own +phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the +knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of +his dagger. + +Second Lord +I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword +clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him +by wearing his apparel neatly. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say +true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth. + +First Lord +He's very near the truth in this. + +BERTRAM +But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he +delivers it. + +PAROLLES +Poor rogues, I pray you, say. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the +rogues are marvellous poor. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Demand of him, of what strength they are +a-foot.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present +hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a +hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so +many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, +and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own +company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and +fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and +sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand +poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off +their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. + +BERTRAM +What shall be done to him? + +First Lord +Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my +condition, and what credit I have with the duke. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +Reads + +'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain +be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is +with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and +expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not +possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to +corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what +do you know of it? + +PAROLLES +I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of +the inter'gatories: demand them singly. + +First Soldier +Do you know this Captain Dumain? + +PAROLLES +I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, +from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's +fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not +say him nay. + +BERTRAM +Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know +his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. + +First Soldier +Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp? + +PAROLLES +Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy. + +First Lord +Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your +lordship anon. + +First Soldier +What is his reputation with the duke? + +PAROLLES +The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer +of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him +out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. + +First Soldier +Marry, we'll search. + +PAROLLES +In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, +or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters +in my tent. + +First Soldier +Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you? + +PAROLLES +I do not know if it be it or no. + +BERTRAM +Our interpreter does it well. + +First Lord +Excellently. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'-- + +PAROLLES +That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an +advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one +Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count +Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very +ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. + +First Soldier +Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. + +PAROLLES +My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the +behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be +a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to +virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. + +BERTRAM +Damnable both-sides rogue! + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it; +After he scores, he never pays the score: +Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; +He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; +And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, +Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: +For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, +Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. +Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, +PAROLLES.' + +BERTRAM +He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme +in's forehead. + +Second Lord +This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold +linguist and the armipotent soldier. + +BERTRAM +I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now +he's a cat to me. + +First Soldier +I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be +fain to hang you. + +PAROLLES +My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to +die; but that, my offences being many, I would +repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, +sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live. + +First Soldier +We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; +therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you +have answered to his reputation with the duke and to +his valour: what is his honesty? + +PAROLLES +He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for +rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he +professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he +is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with +such volubility, that you would think truth were a +fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will +be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little +harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they +know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but +little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has +every thing that an honest man should not have; what +an honest man should have, he has nothing. + +First Lord +I begin to love him for this. + +BERTRAM +For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon +him for me, he's more and more a cat. + +First Soldier +What say you to his expertness in war? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English +tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of +his soldiership I know not; except, in that country +he had the honour to be the officer at a place there +called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of +files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of +this I am not certain. + +First Lord +He hath out-villained villany so far, that the +rarity redeems him. + +BERTRAM +A pox on him, he's a cat still. + +First Soldier +His qualities being at this poor price, I need not +to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. + +PAROLLES +Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple +of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the +entail from all remainders, and a perpetual +succession for it perpetually. + +First Soldier +What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain? + +Second Lord +Why does be ask him of me? + +First Soldier +What's he? + +PAROLLES +E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so +great as the first in goodness, but greater a great +deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward, +yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: +in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming +on he has the cramp. + +First Soldier +If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray +the Florentine? + +PAROLLES +Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon. + +First Soldier +I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. + +PAROLLES +[Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all +drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to +beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy +the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who +would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? + +First Soldier +There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the +general says, you that have so traitorously +discovered the secrets of your army and made such +pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can +serve the world for no honest use; therefore you +must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. + +PAROLLES +O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! + +First Lord +That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. + +Unblinding him + +So, look about you: know you any here? + +BERTRAM +Good morrow, noble captain. + +Second Lord +God bless you, Captain Parolles. + +First Lord +God save you, noble captain. + +Second Lord +Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? +I am for France. + +First Lord +Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet +you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? +an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you: +but fare you well. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords + +First Soldier +You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that +has a knot on't yet + +PAROLLES +Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + +First Soldier +If you could find out a country where but women were +that had received so much shame, you might begin an +impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France +too: we shall speak of you there. + +Exit with Soldiers + +PAROLLES +Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, +'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; +But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft +As captain shall: simply the thing I am +Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, +Let him fear this, for it will come to pass +that every braggart shall be found an ass. +Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live +Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! +There's place and means for every man alive. +I'll after them. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA +HELENA +That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: +Time was, I did him a desired office, +Dear almost as his life; which gratitude +Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, +And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd +His grace is at Marseilles; to which place +We have convenient convoy. You must know +I am supposed dead: the army breaking, +My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, +And by the leave of my good lord the king, +We'll be before our welcome. + +Widow +Gentle madam, +You never had a servant to whose trust +Your business was more welcome. + +HELENA +Nor you, mistress, +Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour +To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven +Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motive +And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! +That can such sweet use make of what they hate, +When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play +With what it loathes for that which is away. +But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, +Under my poor instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalf. + +DIANA +Let death and honesty +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Upon your will to suffer. + +HELENA +Yet, I pray you: +But with the word the time will bring on summer, +When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, +And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; +Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us: +All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; +Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown +LAFEU +No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta +fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have +made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in +his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at +this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced +by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + +COUNTESS +I would I had not known him; it was the death of the +most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had +praise for creating. If she had partaken of my +flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I +could not have owed her a more rooted love. + +LAFEU +'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a +thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the +salad, or rather, the herb of grace. + +LAFEU +They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. + +Clown +I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much +skill in grass. + +LAFEU +Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? + +Clown +A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. + +LAFEU +Your distinction? + +Clown +I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. + +LAFEU +So you were a knave at his service, indeed. + +Clown +And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. + +LAFEU +I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. + +Clown +At your service. + +LAFEU +No, no, no. + +Clown +Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as +great a prince as you are. + +LAFEU +Who's that? a Frenchman? + +Clown +Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy +is more hotter in France than there. + +LAFEU +What prince is that? + +Clown +The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of +darkness; alias, the devil. + +LAFEU +Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this +to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; +serve him still. + +Clown +I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a +great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a +good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the +world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for +the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be +too little for pomp to enter: some that humble +themselves may; but the many will be too chill and +tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that +leads to the broad gate and the great fire. + +LAFEU +Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I +tell thee so before, because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well +looked to, without any tricks. + +Clown +If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be +jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. + +Exit + +LAFEU +A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + +COUNTESS +So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much +sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, +which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, +indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. + +LAFEU +I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to +tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and +that my lord your son was upon his return home, I +moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of +my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, +his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did +first propose: his highness hath promised me to do +it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath +conceived against your son, there is no fitter +matter. How does your ladyship like it? + +COUNTESS +With very much content, my lord; and I wish it +happily effected. + +LAFEU +His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able +body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here +to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such +intelligence hath seldom failed. + +COUNTESS +It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I +die. I have letters that my son will be here +to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain +with me till they meet together. + +LAFEU +Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might +safely be admitted. + +COUNTESS +You need but plead your honourable privilege. + +LAFEU +Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I +thank my God it holds yet. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of +velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't +or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of +velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a +half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + +LAFEU +A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery +of honour; so belike is that. + +Clown +But it is your carbonadoed face. + +LAFEU +Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk +with the young noble soldier. + +Clown +Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine +hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head +and nod at every man. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Marseilles. A street. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants +HELENA +But this exceeding posting day and night +Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: +But since you have made the days and nights as one, +To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, +Be bold you do so grow in my requital +As nothing can unroot you. In happy time; + +Enter a Gentleman + +This man may help me to his majesty's ear, +If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. + +Gentleman +And you. + +HELENA +Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + +Gentleman +I have been sometimes there. + +HELENA +I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen +From the report that goes upon your goodness; +An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The use of your own virtues, for the which +I shall continue thankful. + +Gentleman +What's your will? + +HELENA +That it will please you +To give this poor petition to the king, +And aid me with that store of power you have +To come into his presence. + +Gentleman +The king's not here. + +HELENA +Not here, sir! + +Gentleman +Not, indeed: +He hence removed last night and with more haste +Than is his use. + +Widow +Lord, how we lose our pains! + +HELENA +ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, +Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + +Gentleman +Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; +Whither I am going. + +HELENA +I do beseech you, sir, +Since you are like to see the king before me, +Commend the paper to his gracious hand, +Which I presume shall render you no blame +But rather make you thank your pains for it. +I will come after you with what good speed +Our means will make us means. + +Gentleman +This I'll do for you. + +HELENA +And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, +Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. +Go, go, provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace. + +Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following +PAROLLES +Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this +letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to +you, when I have held familiarity with fresher +clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's +mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong +displeasure. + +Clown +Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it +smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will +henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. +Prithee, allow the wind. + +PAROLLES +Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake +but by a metaphor. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my +nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get +thee further. + +PAROLLES +Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + +Clown +Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's +close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he +comes himself. + +Enter LAFEU + +Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's +cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the +unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he +says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the +carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, +ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his +distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to +your lordship. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly +scratched. + +LAFEU +And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to +pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the +knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who +of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves +thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for +you: let the justices make you and fortune friends: +I am for other business. + +PAROLLES +I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. + +LAFEU +You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; +save your word. + +PAROLLES +My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + +LAFEU +You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion! +give me your hand. How does your drum? + +PAROLLES +O my good lord, you were the first that found me! + +LAFEU +Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. + +PAROLLES +It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, +for you did bring me out. + +LAFEU +Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once +both the office of God and the devil? One brings +thee in grace and the other brings thee out. + +Trumpets sound + +The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, +inquire further after me; I had talk of you last +night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall +eat; go to, follow. + +PAROLLES +I praise God for you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two French Lords, with Attendants +KING +We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem +Was made much poorer by it: but your son, +As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know +Her estimation home. + +COUNTESS +'Tis past, my liege; +And I beseech your majesty to make it +Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; +When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, +O'erbears it and burns on. + +KING +My honour'd lady, +I have forgiven and forgotten all; +Though my revenges were high bent upon him, +And watch'd the time to shoot. + +LAFEU +This I must say, +But first I beg my pardon, the young lord +Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady +Offence of mighty note; but to himself +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife +Whose beauty did astonish the survey +Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, +Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve +Humbly call'd mistress. + +KING +Praising what is lost +Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; +We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill +All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; +The nature of his great offence is dead, +And deeper than oblivion we do bury +The incensing relics of it: let him approach, +A stranger, no offender; and inform him +So 'tis our will he should. + +Gentleman +I shall, my liege. + +Exit + +KING +What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? + +LAFEU +All that he is hath reference to your highness. + +KING +Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me +That set him high in fame. + +Enter BERTRAM + +LAFEU +He looks well on't. + +KING +I am not a day of season, +For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail +In me at once: but to the brightest beams +Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; +The time is fair again. + +BERTRAM +My high-repented blames, +Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + +KING +All is whole; +Not one word more of the consumed time. +Let's take the instant by the forward top; +For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees +The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time +Steals ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this lord? + +BERTRAM +Admiringly, my liege, at first +I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue +Where the impression of mine eye infixing, +Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, +Which warp'd the line of every other favour; +Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous object: thence it came +That she whom all men praised and whom myself, +Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it. + +KING +Well excused: +That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away +From the great compt: but love that comes too late, +Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, +To the great sender turns a sour offence, +Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults +Make trivial price of serious things we have, +Not knowing them until we know their grave: +Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, +Destroy our friends and after weep their dust +Our own love waking cries to see what's done, +While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. +Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: +The main consents are had; and here we'll stay +To see our widower's second marriage-day. + +COUNTESS +Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! +Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + +LAFEU +Come on, my son, in whom my house's name +Must be digested, give a favour from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. + +BERTRAM gives a ring + +By my old beard, +And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, +Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, +The last that e'er I took her at court, +I saw upon her finger. + +BERTRAM +Hers it was not. + +KING +Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. +This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, +I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood +Necessitied to help, that by this token +I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave +her +Of what should stead her most? + +BERTRAM +My gracious sovereign, +Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was never hers. + +COUNTESS +Son, on my life, +I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it +At her life's rate. + +LAFEU +I am sure I saw her wear it. + +BERTRAM +You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it: +In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, +Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name +Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought +I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed +To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully +I could not answer in that course of honour +As she had made the overture, she ceased +In heavy satisfaction and would never +Receive the ring again. + +KING +Plutus himself, +That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, +Hath not in nature's mystery more science +Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, +Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know +That you are well acquainted with yourself, +Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety +That she would never put it from her finger, +Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, +Where you have never come, or sent it us +Upon her great disaster. + +BERTRAM +She never saw it. + +KING +Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour; +And makest conjectural fears to come into me +Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove +That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;-- +And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead; which nothing, but to close +Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, +More than to see this ring. Take him away. + +Guards seize BERTRAM + +My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, +Shall tax my fears of little vanity, +Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him! +We'll sift this matter further. + +BERTRAM +If you shall prove +This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy +Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she never was. + +Exit, guarded + +KING +I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. + +Enter a Gentleman + +Gentleman +Gracious sovereign, +Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: +Here's a petition from a Florentine, +Who hath for four or five removes come short +To tender it herself. I undertook it, +Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech +Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know +Is here attending: her business looks in her +With an importing visage; and she told me, +In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern +Your highness with herself. + +KING +[Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me +when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won +me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows +are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He +stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow +him to his country for justice: grant it me, O +king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer +flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. +DIANA CAPILET. + +LAFEU +I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for +this: I'll none of him. + +KING +The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu, +To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: +Go speedily and bring again the count. +I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, +Was foully snatch'd. + +COUNTESS +Now, justice on the doers! + +Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded + +KING +I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, +And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. + +Enter Widow and DIANA + +What woman's that? + +DIANA +I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, +Derived from the ancient Capilet: +My suit, as I do understand, you know, +And therefore know how far I may be pitied. + +Widow +I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour +Both suffer under this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease, without your remedy. + +KING +Come hither, count; do you know these women? + +BERTRAM +My lord, I neither can nor will deny +But that I know them: do they charge me further? + +DIANA +Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + +BERTRAM +She's none of mine, my lord. + +DIANA +If you shall marry, +You give away this hand, and that is mine; +You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; +You give away myself, which is known mine; +For I by vow am so embodied yours, +That she which marries you must marry me, +Either both or none. + +LAFEU +Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you +are no husband for her. + +BERTRAM +My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, +Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness +Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour +Than for to think that I would sink it here. + +KING +Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend +Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour +Than in my thought it lies. + +DIANA +Good my lord, +Ask him upon his oath, if he does think +He had not my virginity. + +KING +What say'st thou to her? + +BERTRAM +She's impudent, my lord, +And was a common gamester to the camp. + +DIANA +He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, +He might have bought me at a common price: +Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, +Whose high respect and rich validity +Did lack a parallel; yet for all that +He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, +If I be one. + +COUNTESS +He blushes, and 'tis it: +Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, +Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, +Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; +That ring's a thousand proofs. + +KING +Methought you said +You saw one here in court could witness it. + +DIANA +I did, my lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. + +LAFEU +I saw the man to-day, if man he be. + +KING +Find him, and bring him hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +BERTRAM +What of him? +He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, +With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd; +Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. +Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, +That will speak any thing? + +KING +She hath that ring of yours. + +BERTRAM +I think she has: certain it is I liked her, +And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: +She knew her distance and did angle for me, +Madding my eagerness with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancy's course +Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, +Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, +Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; +And I had that which any inferior might +At market-price have bought. + +DIANA +I must be patient: +You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife, +May justly diet me. I pray you yet; +Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband; +Send for your ring, I will return it home, +And give me mine again. + +BERTRAM +I have it not. + +KING +What ring was yours, I pray you? + +DIANA +Sir, much like +The same upon your finger. + +KING +Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. + +DIANA +And this was it I gave him, being abed. + +KING +The story then goes false, you threw it him +Out of a casement. + +DIANA +I have spoke the truth. + +Enter PAROLLES + +BERTRAM +My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + +KING +You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you. +Is this the man you speak of? + +DIANA +Ay, my lord. + +KING +Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master, +Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off, +By him and by this woman here what know you? + +PAROLLES +So please your majesty, my master hath been an +honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, +which gentlemen have. + +KING +Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? + +KING +How, I pray you? + +PAROLLES +He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. + +KING +How is that? + +PAROLLES +He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + +KING +As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an +equivocal companion is this! + +PAROLLES +I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. + +LAFEU +He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. + +DIANA +Do you know he promised me marriage? + +PAROLLES +Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + +KING +But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? + +PAROLLES +Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, +as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for +indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and +of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I +was in that credit with them at that time that I +knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, +as promising her marriage, and things which would +derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not +speak what I know. + +KING +Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say +they are married: but thou art too fine in thy +evidence; therefore stand aside. +This ring, you say, was yours? + +DIANA +Ay, my good lord. + +KING +Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? + +DIANA +It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + +KING +Who lent it you? + +DIANA +It was not lent me neither. + +KING +Where did you find it, then? + +DIANA +I found it not. + +KING +If it were yours by none of all these ways, +How could you give it him? + +DIANA +I never gave it him. + +LAFEU +This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off +and on at pleasure. + +KING +This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. + +DIANA +It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. + +KING +Take her away; I do not like her now; +To prison with her: and away with him. +Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, +Thou diest within this hour. + +DIANA +I'll never tell you. + +KING +Take her away. + +DIANA +I'll put in bail, my liege. + +KING +I think thee now some common customer. + +DIANA +By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + +KING +Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + +DIANA +Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: +He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't; +I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. +Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; +I am either maid, or else this old man's wife. + +KING +She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. + +DIANA +Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir: + +Exit Widow + +The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this lord, +Who hath abused me, as he knows himself, +Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: +He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; +And at that time he got his wife with child: +Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick: +So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick: +And now behold the meaning. + +Re-enter Widow, with HELENA + +KING +Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? +Is't real that I see? + +HELENA +No, my good lord; +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name and not the thing. + +BERTRAM +Both, both. O, pardon! + +HELENA +O my good lord, when I was like this maid, +I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring; +And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: +'When from my finger you can get this ring +And are by me with child,' & c. This is done: +Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? + +BERTRAM +If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, +I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + +HELENA +If it appear not plain and prove untrue, +Deadly divorce step between me and you! +O my dear mother, do I see you living? + +LAFEU +Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: + +To PAROLLES + +Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so, +I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: +Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. + +KING +Let us from point to point this story know, +To make the even truth in pleasure flow. + +To DIANA + +If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; +For I can guess that by thy honest aid +Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. +Of that and all the progress, more or less, +Resolvedly more leisure shall express: +All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + +Flourish + +EPILOGUE + +KING +The king's a beggar, now the play is done: +All is well ended, if this suit be won, +That you express content; which we will pay, +With strife to please you, day exceeding day: +Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; +Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. + +Exeunt +As You Like It +Shakespeare homepage | As You Like It | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ORLANDO +As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion +bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, +and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his +blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my +sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and +report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, +he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more +properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you +that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that +differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses +are bred better; for, besides that they are fair +with their feeding, they are taught their manage, +and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his +brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the +which his animals on his dunghills are as much +bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so +plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave +me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets +me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a +brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my +gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that +grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I +think is within me, begins to mutiny against this +servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I +know no wise remedy how to avoid it. + +ADAM +Yonder comes my master, your brother. + +ORLANDO +Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will +shake me up. + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Now, sir! what make you here? + +ORLANDO +Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. + +OLIVER +What mar you then, sir? + +ORLANDO +Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God +made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. + +OLIVER +Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. + +ORLANDO +Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? +What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should +come to such penury? + +OLIVER +Know you where your are, sir? + +ORLANDO +O, sir, very well; here in your orchard. + +OLIVER +Know you before whom, sir? + +ORLANDO +Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know +you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle +condition of blood, you should so know me. The +courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that +you are the first-born; but the same tradition +takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers +betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as +you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is +nearer to his reverence. + +OLIVER +What, boy! + +ORLANDO +Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. + +OLIVER +Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? + +ORLANDO +I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice +a villain that says such a father begot villains. +Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand +from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy +tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. + +ADAM +Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's +remembrance, be at accord. + +OLIVER +Let me go, I say. + +ORLANDO +I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My +father charged you in his will to give me good +education: you have trained me like a peasant, +obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like +qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in +me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow +me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or +give me the poor allottery my father left me by +testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. + +OLIVER +And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? +Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled +with you; you shall have some part of your will: I +pray you, leave me. + +ORLANDO +I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good. + +OLIVER +Get you with him, you old dog. + +ADAM +Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my +teeth in your service. God be with my old master! +he would not have spoke such a word. + +Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM + +OLIVER +Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will +physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand +crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! + +Enter DENNIS + +DENNIS +Calls your worship? + +OLIVER +Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? + +DENNIS +So please you, he is here at the door and importunes +access to you. + +OLIVER +Call him in. + +Exit DENNIS + +'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. + +Enter CHARLES + +CHARLES +Good morrow to your worship. + +OLIVER +Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the +new court? + +CHARLES +There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: +that is, the old duke is banished by his younger +brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords +have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, +whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; +therefore he gives them good leave to wander. + +OLIVER +Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be +banished with her father? + +CHARLES +O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves +her, being ever from their cradles bred together, +that she would have followed her exile, or have died +to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no +less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and +never two ladies loved as they do. + +OLIVER +Where will the old duke live? + +CHARLES +They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and +a many merry men with him; and there they live like +the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young +gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time +carelessly, as they did in the golden world. + +OLIVER +What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? + +CHARLES +Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a +matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand +that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition +to come in disguised against me to try a fall. +To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that +escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him +well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, +for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I +must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, +out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you +withal, that either you might stay him from his +intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall +run into, in that it is a thing of his own search +and altogether against my will. + +OLIVER +Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which +thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had +myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and +have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from +it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles: +it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full +of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's +good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against +me his natural brother: therefore use thy +discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck +as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if +thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not +mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise +against thee by poison, entrap thee by some +treacherous device and never leave thee till he +hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; +for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak +it, there is not one so young and so villanous this +day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but +should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must +blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder. + +CHARLES +I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come +to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go +alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and +so God keep your worship! + +OLIVER +Farewell, good Charles. + +Exit CHARLES + +Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see +an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, +hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never +schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of +all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much +in the heart of the world, and especially of my own +people, who best know him, that I am altogether +misprised: but it shall not be so long; this +wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that +I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Lawn before the Duke's palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. + +ROSALIND +Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; +and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could +teach me to forget a banished father, you must not +learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. + +CELIA +Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight +that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, +had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou +hadst been still with me, I could have taught my +love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou, +if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously +tempered as mine is to thee. + +ROSALIND +Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to +rejoice in yours. + +CELIA +You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is +like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt +be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy +father perforce, I will render thee again in +affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break +that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my +sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. + +ROSALIND +From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let +me see; what think you of falling in love? + +CELIA +Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but +love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport +neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst +in honour come off again. + +ROSALIND +What shall be our sport, then? + +CELIA +Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from +her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. + +ROSALIND +I would we could do so, for her benefits are +mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman +doth most mistake in her gifts to women. + +CELIA +'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce +makes honest, and those that she makes honest she +makes very ill-favouredly. + +ROSALIND +Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to +Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, +not in the lineaments of Nature. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she +not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature +hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not +Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? + +ROSALIND +Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when +Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of +Nature's wit. + +CELIA +Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but +Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull +to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this +natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of +the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, +wit! whither wander you? + +TOUCHSTONE +Mistress, you must come away to your father. + +CELIA +Were you made the messenger? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you. + +ROSALIND +Where learned you that oath, fool? + +TOUCHSTONE +Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they +were good pancakes and swore by his honour the +mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the +pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and +yet was not the knight forsworn. + +CELIA +How prove you that, in the great heap of your +knowledge? + +ROSALIND +Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. + +TOUCHSTONE +Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and +swear by your beards that I am a knave. + +CELIA +By our beards, if we had them, thou art. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you +swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no +more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he +never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away +before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard. + +CELIA +Prithee, who is't that thou meanest? + +TOUCHSTONE +One that old Frederick, your father, loves. + +CELIA +My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! +speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation +one of these days. + +TOUCHSTONE +The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what +wise men do foolishly. + +CELIA +By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little +wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery +that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes +Monsieur Le Beau. + +ROSALIND +With his mouth full of news. + +CELIA +Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. + +ROSALIND +Then shall we be news-crammed. + +CELIA +All the better; we shall be the more marketable. + +Enter LE BEAU + +Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news? + +LE BEAU +Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. + +CELIA +Sport! of what colour? + +LE BEAU +What colour, madam! how shall I answer you? + +ROSALIND +As wit and fortune will. + +TOUCHSTONE +Or as the Destinies decree. + +CELIA +Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, if I keep not my rank,-- + +ROSALIND +Thou losest thy old smell. + +LE BEAU +You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good +wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. + +ROSALIND +You tell us the manner of the wrestling. + +LE BEAU +I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please +your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is +yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming +to perform it. + +CELIA +Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. + +LE BEAU +There comes an old man and his three sons,-- + +CELIA +I could match this beginning with an old tale. + +LE BEAU +Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence. + +ROSALIND +With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men +by these presents.' + +LE BEAU +The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the +duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him +and broke three of his ribs, that there is little +hope of life in him: so he served the second, and +so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, +their father, making such pitiful dole over them +that all the beholders take his part with weeping. + +ROSALIND +Alas! + +TOUCHSTONE +But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies +have lost? + +LE BEAU +Why, this that I speak of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first +time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport +for ladies. + +CELIA +Or I, I promise thee. + +ROSALIND +But is there any else longs to see this broken music +in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon +rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? + +LE BEAU +You must, if you stay here; for here is the place +appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to +perform it. + +CELIA +Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it. + +Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants + +DUKE FREDERICK +Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his +own peril on his forwardness. + +ROSALIND +Is yonder the man? + +LE BEAU +Even he, madam. + +CELIA +Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither +to see the wrestling? + +ROSALIND +Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You will take little delight in it, I can tell you; +there is such odds in the man. In pity of the +challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he +will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if +you can move him. + +CELIA +Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Do so: I'll not be by. + +LE BEAU +Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you. + +ORLANDO +I attend them with all respect and duty. + +ROSALIND +Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler? + +ORLANDO +No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I +come but in, as others do, to try with him the +strength of my youth. + +CELIA +Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your +years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's +strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or +knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your +adventure would counsel you to a more equal +enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to +embrace your own safety and give over this attempt. + +ROSALIND +Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore +be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke +that the wrestling might not go forward. + +ORLANDO +I beseech you, punish me not with your hard +thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny +so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let +your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my +trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one +shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one +dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my +friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the +world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in +the world I fill up a place, which may be better +supplied when I have made it empty. + +ROSALIND +The little strength that I have, I would it were with you. + +CELIA +And mine, to eke out hers. + +ROSALIND +Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you! + +CELIA +Your heart's desires be with you! + +CHARLES +Come, where is this young gallant that is so +desirous to lie with his mother earth? + +ORLANDO +Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You shall try but one fall. + +CHARLES +No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him +to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him +from a first. + +ORLANDO +An you mean to mock me after, you should not have +mocked me before: but come your ways. + +ROSALIND +Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! + +CELIA +I would I were invisible, to catch the strong +fellow by the leg. + +They wrestle + +ROSALIND +O excellent young man! + +CELIA +If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who +should down. + +Shout. CHARLES is thrown + +DUKE FREDERICK +No more, no more. + +ORLANDO +Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How dost thou, Charles? + +LE BEAU +He cannot speak, my lord. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? + +ORLANDO +Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. + +DUKE FREDERICK +I would thou hadst been son to some man else: +The world esteem'd thy father honourable, +But I did find him still mine enemy: +Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, +Hadst thou descended from another house. +But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth: +I would thou hadst told me of another father. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU + +CELIA +Were I my father, coz, would I do this? + +ORLANDO +I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, +His youngest son; and would not change that calling, +To be adopted heir to Frederick. + +ROSALIND +My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, +And all the world was of my father's mind: +Had I before known this young man his son, +I should have given him tears unto entreaties, +Ere he should thus have ventured. + +CELIA +Gentle cousin, +Let us go thank him and encourage him: +My father's rough and envious disposition +Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved: +If you do keep your promises in love +But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, +Your mistress shall be happy. + +ROSALIND +Gentleman, + +Giving him a chain from her neck + +Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, +That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. +Shall we go, coz? + +CELIA +Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. + +ORLANDO +Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts +Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up +Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. + +ROSALIND +He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes; +I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir? +Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown +More than your enemies. + +CELIA +Will you go, coz? + +ROSALIND +Have with you. Fare you well. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +ORLANDO +What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? +I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. +O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! +Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. + +Re-enter LE BEAU + +LE BEAU +Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you +To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved +High commendation, true applause and love, +Yet such is now the duke's condition +That he misconstrues all that you have done. +The duke is humorous; what he is indeed, +More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. + +ORLANDO +I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this: +Which of the two was daughter of the duke +That here was at the wrestling? + +LE BEAU +Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; +But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter +The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, +And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, +To keep his daughter company; whose loves +Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. +But I can tell you that of late this duke +Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, +Grounded upon no other argument +But that the people praise her for her virtues +And pity her for her good father's sake; +And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady +Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well: +Hereafter, in a better world than this, +I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. + +ORLANDO +I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. + +Exit LE BEAU + +Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; +From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother: +But heavenly Rosalind! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word? + +ROSALIND +Not one to throw at a dog. + +CELIA +No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon +curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. + +ROSALIND +Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one +should be lamed with reasons and the other mad +without any. + +CELIA +But is all this for your father? + +ROSALIND +No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how +full of briers is this working-day world! + +CELIA +They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in +holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden +paths our very petticoats will catch them. + +ROSALIND +I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. + +CELIA +Hem them away. + +ROSALIND +I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him. + +CELIA +Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. + +ROSALIND +O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself! + +CELIA +O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in +despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of +service, let us talk in good earnest: is it +possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so +strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? + +ROSALIND +The duke my father loved his father dearly. + +CELIA +Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son +dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, +for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate +not Orlando. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. + +CELIA +Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? + +ROSALIND +Let me love him for that, and do you love him +because I do. Look, here comes the duke. + +CELIA +With his eyes full of anger. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords + +DUKE FREDERICK +Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste +And get you from our court. + +ROSALIND +Me, uncle? + +DUKE FREDERICK +You, cousin +Within these ten days if that thou be'st found +So near our public court as twenty miles, +Thou diest for it. + +ROSALIND +I do beseech your grace, +Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: +If with myself I hold intelligence +Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, +If that I do not dream or be not frantic,-- +As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, +Never so much as in a thought unborn +Did I offend your highness. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thus do all traitors: +If their purgation did consist in words, +They are as innocent as grace itself: +Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. + +ROSALIND +Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: +Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. + +ROSALIND +So was I when your highness took his dukedom; +So was I when your highness banish'd him: +Treason is not inherited, my lord; +Or, if we did derive it from our friends, +What's that to me? my father was no traitor: +Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much +To think my poverty is treacherous. + +CELIA +Dear sovereign, hear me speak. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, +Else had she with her father ranged along. + +CELIA +I did not then entreat to have her stay; +It was your pleasure and your own remorse: +I was too young that time to value her; +But now I know her: if she be a traitor, +Why so am I; we still have slept together, +Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together, +And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, +Still we went coupled and inseparable. + +DUKE FREDERICK +She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, +Her very silence and her patience +Speak to the people, and they pity her. +Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; +And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous +When she is gone. Then open not thy lips: +Firm and irrevocable is my doom +Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. + +CELIA +Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: +I cannot live out of her company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself: +If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, +And in the greatness of my word, you die. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords + +CELIA +O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? +Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. +I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. + +ROSALIND +I have more cause. + +CELIA +Thou hast not, cousin; +Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke +Hath banish'd me, his daughter? + +ROSALIND +That he hath not. + +CELIA +No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love +Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: +Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? +No: let my father seek another heir. +Therefore devise with me how we may fly, +Whither to go and what to bear with us; +And do not seek to take your change upon you, +To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out; +For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, +Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. + +ROSALIND +Why, whither shall we go? + +CELIA +To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. + +ROSALIND +Alas, what danger will it be to us, +Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! +Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. + +CELIA +I'll put myself in poor and mean attire +And with a kind of umber smirch my face; +The like do you: so shall we pass along +And never stir assailants. + +ROSALIND +Were it not better, +Because that I am more than common tall, +That I did suit me all points like a man? +A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, +A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart +Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-- +We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, +As many other mannish cowards have +That do outface it with their semblances. + +CELIA +What shall I call thee when thou art a man? + +ROSALIND +I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page; +And therefore look you call me Ganymede. +But what will you be call'd? + +CELIA +Something that hath a reference to my state +No longer Celia, but Aliena. + +ROSALIND +But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal +The clownish fool out of your father's court? +Would he not be a comfort to our travel? + +CELIA +He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; +Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, +And get our jewels and our wealth together, +Devise the fittest time and safest way +To hide us from pursuit that will be made +After my flight. Now go we in content +To liberty and not to banishment. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters +DUKE SENIOR +Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, +Hath not old custom made this life more sweet +Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods +More free from peril than the envious court? +Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, +The seasons' difference, as the icy fang +And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, +Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, +Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say +'This is no flattery: these are counsellors +That feelingly persuade me what I am.' +Sweet are the uses of adversity, +Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, +Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; +And this our life exempt from public haunt +Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, +Sermons in stones and good in every thing. +I would not change it. + +AMIENS +Happy is your grace, +That can translate the stubbornness of fortune +Into so quiet and so sweet a style. + +DUKE SENIOR +Come, shall we go and kill us venison? +And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, +Being native burghers of this desert city, +Should in their own confines with forked heads +Have their round haunches gored. + +First Lord +Indeed, my lord, +The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, +And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp +Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. +To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself +Did steal behind him as he lay along +Under an oak whose antique root peeps out +Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: +To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, +That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, +Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord, +The wretched animal heaved forth such groans +That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat +Almost to bursting, and the big round tears +Coursed one another down his innocent nose +In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool +Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, +Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, +Augmenting it with tears. + +DUKE SENIOR +But what said Jaques? +Did he not moralize this spectacle? + +First Lord +O, yes, into a thousand similes. +First, for his weeping into the needless stream; +'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament +As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more +To that which had too much:' then, being there alone, +Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, +''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part +The flux of company:' anon a careless herd, +Full of the pasture, jumps along by him +And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques, +'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; +'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look +Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?' +Thus most invectively he pierceth through +The body of the country, city, court, +Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we +Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, +To fright the animals and to kill them up +In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. + +DUKE SENIOR +And did you leave him in this contemplation? + +Second Lord +We did, my lord, weeping and commenting +Upon the sobbing deer. + +DUKE SENIOR +Show me the place: +I love to cope him in these sullen fits, +For then he's full of matter. + +First Lord +I'll bring you to him straight. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords +DUKE FREDERICK +Can it be possible that no man saw them? +It cannot be: some villains of my court +Are of consent and sufferance in this. + +First Lord +I cannot hear of any that did see her. +The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, +Saw her abed, and in the morning early +They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. + +Second Lord +My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft +Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. +Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, +Confesses that she secretly o'erheard +Your daughter and her cousin much commend +The parts and graces of the wrestler +That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; +And she believes, wherever they are gone, +That youth is surely in their company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither; +If he be absent, bring his brother to me; +I'll make him find him: do this suddenly, +And let not search and inquisition quail +To bring again these foolish runaways. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting +ORLANDO +Who's there? + +ADAM +What, my young master? O, my gentle master! +O my sweet master! O you memory +Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? +Why are you virtuous? why do people love you? +And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant? +Why would you be so fond to overcome +The bonny priser of the humorous duke? +Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. +Know you not, master, to some kind of men +Their graces serve them but as enemies? +No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, +Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. +O, what a world is this, when what is comely +Envenoms him that bears it! + +ORLANDO +Why, what's the matter? + +ADAM +O unhappy youth! +Come not within these doors; within this roof +The enemy of all your graces lives: +Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son-- +Yet not the son, I will not call him son +Of him I was about to call his father-- +Hath heard your praises, and this night he means +To burn the lodging where you use to lie +And you within it: if he fail of that, +He will have other means to cut you off. +I overheard him and his practises. +This is no place; this house is but a butchery: +Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. + +ORLANDO +Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? + +ADAM +No matter whither, so you come not here. + +ORLANDO +What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? +Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce +A thievish living on the common road? +This I must do, or know not what to do: +Yet this I will not do, do how I can; +I rather will subject me to the malice +Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. + +ADAM +But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, +The thrifty hire I saved under your father, +Which I did store to be my foster-nurse +When service should in my old limbs lie lame +And unregarded age in corners thrown: +Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, +Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, +Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold; +And all this I give you. Let me be your servant: +Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; +For in my youth I never did apply +Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, +Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo +The means of weakness and debility; +Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, +Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; +I'll do the service of a younger man +In all your business and necessities. + +ORLANDO +O good old man, how well in thee appears +The constant service of the antique world, +When service sweat for duty, not for meed! +Thou art not for the fashion of these times, +Where none will sweat but for promotion, +And having that, do choke their service up +Even with the having: it is not so with thee. +But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree, +That cannot so much as a blossom yield +In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry +But come thy ways; well go along together, +And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, +We'll light upon some settled low content. + +ADAM +Master, go on, and I will follow thee, +To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. +From seventeen years till now almost fourscore +Here lived I, but now live here no more. +At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; +But at fourscore it is too late a week: +Yet fortune cannot recompense me better +Than to die well and not my master's debtor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE +ROSALIND +O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! + +TOUCHSTONE +I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. + +ROSALIND +I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's +apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort +the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show +itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage, +good Aliena! + +CELIA +I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further. + +TOUCHSTONE +For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear +you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, +for I think you have no money in your purse. + +ROSALIND +Well, this is the forest of Arden. + +TOUCHSTONE +Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home, I was in a better place: but travellers +must be content. + +ROSALIND +Ay, be so, good Touchstone. + +Enter CORIN and SILVIUS + +Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in +solemn talk. + +CORIN +That is the way to make her scorn you still. + +SILVIUS +O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! + +CORIN +I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. + +SILVIUS +No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, +Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover +As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: +But if thy love were ever like to mine-- +As sure I think did never man love so-- +How many actions most ridiculous +Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? + +CORIN +Into a thousand that I have forgotten. + +SILVIUS +O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! +If thou remember'st not the slightest folly +That ever love did make thee run into, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, +Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not broke from company +Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, +Thou hast not loved. +O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, +I have by hard adventure found mine own. + +TOUCHSTONE +And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke +my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for +coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the +kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her +pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the +wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took +two cods and, giving her them again, said with +weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are +true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is +mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. + +ROSALIND +Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I +break my shins against it. + +ROSALIND +Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion +Is much upon my fashion. + +TOUCHSTONE +And mine; but it grows something stale with me. + +CELIA +I pray you, one of you question yond man +If he for gold will give us any food: +I faint almost to death. + +TOUCHSTONE +Holla, you clown! + +ROSALIND +Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. + +CORIN +Who calls? + +TOUCHSTONE +Your betters, sir. + +CORIN +Else are they very wretched. + +ROSALIND +Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. + +CORIN +And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. + +ROSALIND +I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold +Can in this desert place buy entertainment, +Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: +Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd +And faints for succor. + +CORIN +Fair sir, I pity her +And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, +My fortunes were more able to relieve her; +But I am shepherd to another man +And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: +My master is of churlish disposition +And little recks to find the way to heaven +By doing deeds of hospitality: +Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed +Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, +By reason of his absence, there is nothing +That you will feed on; but what is, come see. +And in my voice most welcome shall you be. + +ROSALIND +What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? + +CORIN +That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, +That little cares for buying any thing. + +ROSALIND +I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, +Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, +And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. + +CELIA +And we will mend thy wages. I like this place. +And willingly could waste my time in it. + +CORIN +Assuredly the thing is to be sold: +Go with me: if you like upon report +The soil, the profit and this kind of life, +I will your very faithful feeder be +And buy it with your gold right suddenly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The Forest. + +Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others +SONG. + +AMIENS +Under the greenwood tree +Who loves to lie with me, +And turn his merry note +Unto the sweet bird's throat, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +More, more, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck +melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. +More, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. + +JAQUES +I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to +sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos? + +AMIENS +What you will, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me +nothing. Will you sing? + +AMIENS +More at your request than to please myself. + +JAQUES +Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; +but that they call compliment is like the encounter +of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily, +methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me +the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will +not, hold your tongues. + +AMIENS +Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the +duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all +this day to look you. + +JAQUES +And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is +too disputable for my company: I think of as many +matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no +boast of them. Come, warble, come. +SONG. +Who doth ambition shun + +All together here + +And loves to live i' the sun, +Seeking the food he eats +And pleased with what he gets, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +I'll give you a verse to this note that I made +yesterday in despite of my invention. + +AMIENS +And I'll sing it. + +JAQUES +Thus it goes:-- +If it do come to pass +That any man turn ass, +Leaving his wealth and ease, +A stubborn will to please, +Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: +Here shall he see +Gross fools as he, +An if he will come to me. + +AMIENS +What's that 'ducdame'? + +JAQUES +'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a +circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll +rail against all the first-born of Egypt. + +AMIENS +And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE VI. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ADAM +Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! +Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, +kind master. + +ORLANDO +Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live +a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. +If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I +will either be food for it or bring it for food to +thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. +For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at +the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently; +and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will +give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I +come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! +thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. +Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear +thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for +lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this +desert. Cheerly, good Adam! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The forest. + +A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws +DUKE SENIOR +I think he be transform'd into a beast; +For I can no where find him like a man. + +First Lord +My lord, he is but even now gone hence: +Here was he merry, hearing of a song. + +DUKE SENIOR +If he, compact of jars, grow musical, +We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. +Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him. + +Enter JAQUES + +First Lord +He saves my labour by his own approach. + +DUKE SENIOR +Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, +That your poor friends must woo your company? +What, you look merrily! + +JAQUES +A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, +A motley fool; a miserable world! +As I do live by food, I met a fool +Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, +And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, +In good set terms and yet a motley fool. +'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he, +'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:' +And then he drew a dial from his poke, +And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, +Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: +Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags: +'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, +And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; +And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, +And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; +And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear +The motley fool thus moral on the time, +My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, +That fools should be so deep-contemplative, +And I did laugh sans intermission +An hour by his dial. O noble fool! +A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. + +DUKE SENIOR +What fool is this? + +JAQUES +O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, +And says, if ladies be but young and fair, +They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, +Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit +After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd +With observation, the which he vents +In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! +I am ambitious for a motley coat. + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou shalt have one. + +JAQUES +It is my only suit; +Provided that you weed your better judgments +Of all opinion that grows rank in them +That I am wise. I must have liberty +Withal, as large a charter as the wind, +To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; +And they that are most galled with my folly, +They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so? +The 'why' is plain as way to parish church: +He that a fool doth very wisely hit +Doth very foolishly, although he smart, +Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, +The wise man's folly is anatomized +Even by the squandering glances of the fool. +Invest me in my motley; give me leave +To speak my mind, and I will through and through +Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, +If they will patiently receive my medicine. + +DUKE SENIOR +Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. + +JAQUES +What, for a counter, would I do but good? + +DUKE SENIOR +Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: +For thou thyself hast been a libertine, +As sensual as the brutish sting itself; +And all the embossed sores and headed evils, +That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, +Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. + +JAQUES +Why, who cries out on pride, +That can therein tax any private party? +Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, +Till that the weary very means do ebb? +What woman in the city do I name, +When that I say the city-woman bears +The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? +Who can come in and say that I mean her, +When such a one as she such is her neighbour? +Or what is he of basest function +That says his bravery is not of my cost, +Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits +His folly to the mettle of my speech? +There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein +My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, +Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free, +Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, +Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here? + +Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn + +ORLANDO +Forbear, and eat no more. + +JAQUES +Why, I have eat none yet. + +ORLANDO +Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. + +JAQUES +Of what kind should this cock come of? + +DUKE SENIOR +Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, +Or else a rude despiser of good manners, +That in civility thou seem'st so empty? + +ORLANDO +You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point +Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show +Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred +And know some nurture. But forbear, I say: +He dies that touches any of this fruit +Till I and my affairs are answered. + +JAQUES +An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. + +DUKE SENIOR +What would you have? Your gentleness shall force +More than your force move us to gentleness. + +ORLANDO +I almost die for food; and let me have it. + +DUKE SENIOR +Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. + +ORLANDO +Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: +I thought that all things had been savage here; +And therefore put I on the countenance +Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are +That in this desert inaccessible, +Under the shade of melancholy boughs, +Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time +If ever you have look'd on better days, +If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, +If ever sat at any good man's feast, +If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear +And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, +Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: +In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. + +DUKE SENIOR +True is it that we have seen better days, +And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church +And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes +Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: +And therefore sit you down in gentleness +And take upon command what help we have +That to your wanting may be minister'd. + +ORLANDO +Then but forbear your food a little while, +Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn +And give it food. There is an old poor man, +Who after me hath many a weary step +Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed, +Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, +I will not touch a bit. + +DUKE SENIOR +Go find him out, +And we will nothing waste till you return. + +ORLANDO +I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: +This wide and universal theatre +Presents more woeful pageants than the scene +Wherein we play in. + +JAQUES +All the world's a stage, +And all the men and women merely players: +They have their exits and their entrances; +And one man in his time plays many parts, +His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, +Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. +And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel +And shining morning face, creeping like snail +Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, +Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad +Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, +Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, +Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, +Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, +In fair round belly with good capon lined, +With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, +Full of wise saws and modern instances; +And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts +Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, +With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, +His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide +For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, +Turning again toward childish treble, pipes +And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, +That ends this strange eventful history, +Is second childishness and mere oblivion, +Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + +Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen, +And let him feed. + +ORLANDO +I thank you most for him. + +ADAM +So had you need: +I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you +As yet, to question you about your fortunes. +Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. +SONG. + +AMIENS +Blow, blow, thou winter wind. +Thou art not so unkind +As man's ingratitude; +Thy tooth is not so keen, +Because thou art not seen, +Although thy breath be rude. +Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: +Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: +Then, heigh-ho, the holly! +This life is most jolly. +Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, +That dost not bite so nigh +As benefits forgot: +Though thou the waters warp, +Thy sting is not so sharp +As friend remember'd not. +Heigh-ho! sing, & c. + +DUKE SENIOR +If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, +As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, +And as mine eye doth his effigies witness +Most truly limn'd and living in your face, +Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke +That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, +Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, +Thou art right welcome as thy master is. +Support him by the arm. Give me your hand, +And let me all your fortunes understand. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER +DUKE FREDERICK +Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: +But were I not the better part made mercy, +I should not seek an absent argument +Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: +Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is; +Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living +Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more +To seek a living in our territory. +Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine +Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, +Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth +Of what we think against thee. + +OLIVER +O that your highness knew my heart in this! +I never loved my brother in my life. + +DUKE FREDERICK +More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; +And let my officers of such a nature +Make an extent upon his house and lands: +Do this expediently and turn him going. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO, with a paper +ORLANDO +Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: +And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey +With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, +Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. +O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books +And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; +That every eye which in this forest looks +Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. +Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree +The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CORIN +And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone? + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good +life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, +it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I +like it very well; but in respect that it is +private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it +is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in +respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As +is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; +but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much +against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? + +CORIN +No more but that I know the more one sickens the +worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, +means and content is without three good friends; +that the property of rain is to wet and fire to +burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a +great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that +he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may +complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred. + +TOUCHSTONE +Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in +court, shepherd? + +CORIN +No, truly. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then thou art damned. + +CORIN +Nay, I hope. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all +on one side. + +CORIN +For not being at court? Your reason. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest +good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, +then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is +sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous +state, shepherd. + +CORIN +Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners +at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the +behavior of the country is most mockable at the +court. You told me you salute not at the court, but +you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be +uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds. + +TOUCHSTONE +Instance, briefly; come, instance. + +CORIN +Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their +fells, you know, are greasy. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not +the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of +a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come. + +CORIN +Besides, our hands are hard. + +TOUCHSTONE +Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. +A more sounder instance, come. + +CORIN +And they are often tarred over with the surgery of +our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The +courtier's hands are perfumed with civet. + +TOUCHSTONE +Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a +good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and +perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the +very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. + +CORIN +You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man! +God make incision in thee! thou art raw. + +CORIN +Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get +that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's +happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my +harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes +graze and my lambs suck. + +TOUCHSTONE +That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes +and the rams together and to offer to get your +living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a +bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a +twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, +out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not +damned for this, the devil himself will have no +shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst +'scape. + +CORIN +Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. + +Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading + +ROSALIND +From the east to western Ind, +No jewel is like Rosalind. +Her worth, being mounted on the wind, +Through all the world bears Rosalind. +All the pictures fairest lined +Are but black to Rosalind. +Let no fair be kept in mind +But the fair of Rosalind. + +TOUCHSTONE +I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and +suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the +right butter-women's rank to market. + +ROSALIND +Out, fool! + +TOUCHSTONE +For a taste: +If a hart do lack a hind, +Let him seek out Rosalind. +If the cat will after kind, +So be sure will Rosalind. +Winter garments must be lined, +So must slender Rosalind. +They that reap must sheaf and bind; +Then to cart with Rosalind. +Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, +Such a nut is Rosalind. +He that sweetest rose will find +Must find love's prick and Rosalind. +This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you +infect yourself with them? + +ROSALIND +Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. + +ROSALIND +I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it +with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit +i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half +ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. + +TOUCHSTONE +You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the +forest judge. + +Enter CELIA, with a writing + +ROSALIND +Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside. + +CELIA +[Reads] +Why should this a desert be? +For it is unpeopled? No: +Tongues I'll hang on every tree, +That shall civil sayings show: +Some, how brief the life of man +Runs his erring pilgrimage, +That the stretching of a span +Buckles in his sum of age; +Some, of violated vows +'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: +But upon the fairest boughs, +Or at every sentence end, +Will I Rosalinda write, +Teaching all that read to know +The quintessence of every sprite +Heaven would in little show. +Therefore Heaven Nature charged +That one body should be fill'd +With all graces wide-enlarged: +Nature presently distill'd +Helen's cheek, but not her heart, +Cleopatra's majesty, +Atalanta's better part, +Sad Lucretia's modesty. +Thus Rosalind of many parts +By heavenly synod was devised, +Of many faces, eyes and hearts, +To have the touches dearest prized. +Heaven would that she these gifts should have, +And I to live and die her slave. + +ROSALIND +O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love +have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never +cried 'Have patience, good people!' + +CELIA +How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little. +Go with him, sirrah. + +TOUCHSTONE +Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; +though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. + +Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +Didst thou hear these verses? + +ROSALIND +O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of +them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. + +CELIA +That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear +themselves without the verse and therefore stood +lamely in the verse. + +CELIA +But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name +should be hanged and carved upon these trees? + +ROSALIND +I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder +before you came; for look here what I found on a +palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since +Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I +can hardly remember. + +CELIA +Trow you who hath done this? + +ROSALIND +Is it a man? + +CELIA +And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. +Change you colour? + +ROSALIND +I prithee, who? + +CELIA +O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to +meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes +and so encounter. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but who is it? + +CELIA +Is it possible? + +ROSALIND +Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence, +tell me who it is. + +CELIA +O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful +wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, +out of all hooping! + +ROSALIND +Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am +caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in +my disposition? One inch of delay more is a +South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it +quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst +stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man +out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- +mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at +all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that +may drink thy tidings. + +CELIA +So you may put a man in your belly. + +ROSALIND +Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his +head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? + +CELIA +Nay, he hath but a little beard. + +ROSALIND +Why, God will send more, if the man will be +thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if +thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. + +CELIA +It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's +heels and your heart both in an instant. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and +true maid. + +CELIA +I' faith, coz, 'tis he. + +ROSALIND +Orlando? + +CELIA +Orlando. + +ROSALIND +Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and +hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said +he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes +him here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? +How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see +him again? Answer me in one word. + +CELIA +You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a +word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To +say ay and no to these particulars is more than to +answer in a catechism. + +ROSALIND +But doth he know that I am in this forest and in +man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the +day he wrestled? + +CELIA +It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the +propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my +finding him, and relish it with good observance. +I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. + +ROSALIND +It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops +forth such fruit. + +CELIA +Give me audience, good madam. + +ROSALIND +Proceed. + +CELIA +There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight. + +ROSALIND +Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well +becomes the ground. + +CELIA +Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets +unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. + +ROSALIND +O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. + +CELIA +I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest +me out of tune. + +ROSALIND +Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must +speak. Sweet, say on. + +CELIA +You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? + +Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES + +ROSALIND +'Tis he: slink by, and note him. + +JAQUES +I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had +as lief have been myself alone. + +ORLANDO +And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you +too for your society. + +JAQUES +God be wi' you: let's meet as little as we can. + +ORLANDO +I do desire we may be better strangers. + +JAQUES +I pray you, mar no more trees with writing +love-songs in their barks. + +ORLANDO +I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading +them ill-favouredly. + +JAQUES +Rosalind is your love's name? + +ORLANDO +Yes, just. + +JAQUES +I do not like her name. + +ORLANDO +There was no thought of pleasing you when she was +christened. + +JAQUES +What stature is she of? + +ORLANDO +Just as high as my heart. + +JAQUES +You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been +acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them +out of rings? + +ORLANDO +Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from +whence you have studied your questions. + +JAQUES +You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of +Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and +we two will rail against our mistress the world and +all our misery. + +ORLANDO +I will chide no breather in the world but myself, +against whom I know most faults. + +JAQUES +The worst fault you have is to be in love. + +ORLANDO +'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. +I am weary of you. + +JAQUES +By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found +you. + +ORLANDO +He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you +shall see him. + +JAQUES +There I shall see mine own figure. + +ORLANDO +Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. + +JAQUES +I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good +Signior Love. + +ORLANDO +I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur +Melancholy. + +Exit JAQUES + +ROSALIND +[Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy +lackey and under that habit play the knave with him. +Do you hear, forester? + +ORLANDO +Very well: what would you? + +ROSALIND +I pray you, what is't o'clock? + +ORLANDO +You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock +in the forest. + +ROSALIND +Then there is no true lover in the forest; else +sighing every minute and groaning every hour would +detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock. + +ORLANDO +And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that +been as proper? + +ROSALIND +By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with +divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles +withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops +withal and who he stands still withal. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, who doth he trot withal? + +ROSALIND +Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the +contract of her marriage and the day it is +solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, +Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of +seven year. + +ORLANDO +Who ambles Time withal? + +ROSALIND +With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that +hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because +he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because +he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean +and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden +of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal. + +ORLANDO +Who doth he gallop withal? + +ROSALIND +With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as +softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. + +ORLANDO +Who stays it still withal? + +ROSALIND +With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between +term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves. + +ORLANDO +Where dwell you, pretty youth? + +ROSALIND +With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the +skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. + +ORLANDO +Are you native of this place? + +ROSALIND +As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled. + +ORLANDO +Your accent is something finer than you could +purchase in so removed a dwelling. + +ROSALIND +I have been told so of many: but indeed an old +religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was +in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship +too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard +him read many lectures against it, and I thank God +I am not a woman, to be touched with so many +giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their +whole sex withal. + +ORLANDO +Can you remember any of the principal evils that he +laid to the charge of women? + +ROSALIND +There were none principal; they were all like one +another as half-pence are, every one fault seeming +monstrous till his fellow fault came to match it. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, recount some of them. + +ROSALIND +No, I will not cast away my physic but on those that +are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that +abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on +their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies +on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of +Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would +give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the +quotidian of love upon him. + +ORLANDO +I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me +your remedy. + +ROSALIND +There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he +taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage +of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner. + +ORLANDO +What were his marks? + +ROSALIND +A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and +sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable +spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected, +which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for +simply your having in beard is a younger brother's +revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your +bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe +untied and every thing about you demonstrating a +careless desolation; but you are no such man; you +are rather point-device in your accoutrements as +loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other. + +ORLANDO +Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love. + +ROSALIND +Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you +love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to +do than to confess she does: that is one of the +points in the which women still give the lie to +their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he +that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind +is so admired? + +ORLANDO +I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of +Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. + +ROSALIND +But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak? + +ORLANDO +Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. + +ROSALIND +Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves +as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and +the reason why they are not so punished and cured +is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers +are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. + +ORLANDO +Did you ever cure any so? + +ROSALIND +Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me +his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to +woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish +youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing +and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, +inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every +passion something and for no passion truly any +thing, as boys and women are for the most part +cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe +him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep +for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor +from his mad humour of love to a living humour of +madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of +the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic. +And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon +me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's +heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't. + +ORLANDO +I would not be cured, youth. + +ROSALIND +I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind +and come every day to my cote and woo me. + +ORLANDO +Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me +where it is. + +ROSALIND +Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way +you shall tell me where in the forest you live. +Will you go? + +ORLANDO +With all my heart, good youth. + +ROSALIND +Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go? + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind +TOUCHSTONE +Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your +goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? +doth my simple feature content you? + +AUDREY +Your features! Lord warrant us! what features! + +TOUCHSTONE +I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most +capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths. + +JAQUES +[Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove +in a thatched house! + +TOUCHSTONE +When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a +man's good wit seconded with the forward child +Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a +great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee poetical. + +AUDREY +I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in +deed and word? is it a true thing? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most +feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what +they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign. + +AUDREY +Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical? + +TOUCHSTONE +I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art +honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some +hope thou didst feign. + +AUDREY +Would you not have me honest? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for +honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar. + +JAQUES +[Aside] A material fool! + +AUDREY +Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods +make me honest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut +were to put good meat into an unclean dish. + +AUDREY +I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul. + +TOUCHSTONE +Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! +sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may +be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been +with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next +village, who hath promised to meet me in this place +of the forest and to couple us. + +JAQUES +[Aside] I would fain see this meeting. + +AUDREY +Well, the gods give us joy! + +TOUCHSTONE +Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, +stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple +but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what +though? C ourage! As horns are odious, they are +necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of +his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and +knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of +his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns? +Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer +hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man +therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more +worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a +married man more honourable than the bare brow of a +bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no +skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to +want. Here comes Sir Oliver. + +Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT + +Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you +dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go +with you to your chapel? + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Is there none here to give the woman? + +TOUCHSTONE +I will not take her on gift of any man. + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful. + +JAQUES +[Advancing] +Proceed, proceed I'll give her. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, good Master What-ye-call't: how do you, +sir? You are very well met: God 'ild you for your +last company: I am very glad to see you: even a +toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered. + +JAQUES +Will you be married, motley? + +TOUCHSTONE +As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and +the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and +as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling. + +JAQUES +And will you, being a man of your breeding, be +married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to +church, and have a good priest that can tell you +what marriage is: this fellow will but join you +together as they join wainscot; then one of you will +prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp. + +TOUCHSTONE +[Aside] I am not in the mind but I were better to be +married of him than of another: for he is not like +to marry me well; and not being well married, it +will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. + +JAQUES +Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Come, sweet Audrey: +We must be married, or we must live in bawdry. +Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,-- +O sweet Oliver, +O brave Oliver, +Leave me not behind thee: but,-- +Wind away, +Begone, I say, +I will not to wedding with thee. + +Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them +all shall flout me out of my calling. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +Never talk to me; I will weep. + +CELIA +Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider +that tears do not become a man. + +ROSALIND +But have I not cause to weep? + +CELIA +As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. + +ROSALIND +His very hair is of the dissembling colour. + +CELIA +Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are +Judas's own children. + +ROSALIND +I' faith, his hair is of a good colour. + +CELIA +An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour. + +ROSALIND +And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch +of holy bread. + +CELIA +He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun +of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; +the very ice of chastity is in them. + +ROSALIND +But why did he swear he would come this morning, and +comes not? + +CELIA +Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. + +ROSALIND +Do you think so? + +CELIA +Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a +horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do +think him as concave as a covered goblet or a +worm-eaten nut. + +ROSALIND +Not true in love? + +CELIA +Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in. + +ROSALIND +You have heard him swear downright he was. + +CELIA +'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is +no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are +both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends +here in the forest on the duke your father. + +ROSALIND +I met the duke yesterday and had much question with +him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told +him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go. +But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a +man as Orlando? + +CELIA +O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, +speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks +them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of +his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse +but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble +goose: but all's brave that youth mounts and folly +guides. Who comes here? + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Mistress and master, you have oft inquired +After the shepherd that complain'd of love, +Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, +Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess +That was his mistress. + +CELIA +Well, and what of him? + +CORIN +If you will see a pageant truly play'd, +Between the pale complexion of true love +And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, +Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, +If you will mark it. + +ROSALIND +O, come, let us remove: +The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. +Bring us to this sight, and you shall say +I'll prove a busy actor in their play. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the forest. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe; +Say that you love me not, but say not so +In bitterness. The common executioner, +Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard, +Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck +But first begs pardon: will you sterner be +Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, behind + +PHEBE +I would not be thy executioner: +I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. +Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: +'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, +That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, +Who shut their coward gates on atomies, +Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! +Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; +And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee: +Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; +Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, +Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! +Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee: +Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains +Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, +The cicatrice and capable impressure +Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes, +Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, +Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes +That can do hurt. + +SILVIUS +O dear Phebe, +If ever,--as that ever may be near,-- +You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, +Then shall you know the wounds invisible +That love's keen arrows make. + +PHEBE +But till that time +Come not thou near me: and when that time comes, +Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; +As till that time I shall not pity thee. + +ROSALIND +And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, +That you insult, exult, and all at once, +Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,-- +As, by my faith, I see no more in you +Than without candle may go dark to bed-- +Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? +Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? +I see no more in you than in the ordinary +Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, +I think she means to tangle my eyes too! +No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it: +'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, +Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, +That can entame my spirits to your worship. +You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, +Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? +You are a thousand times a properer man +Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you +That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children: +'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; +And out of you she sees herself more proper +Than any of her lineaments can show her. +But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees, +And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: +For I must tell you friendly in your ear, +Sell when you can: you are not for all markets: +Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer: +Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. +So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well. + +PHEBE +Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together: +I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. + +ROSALIND +He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll +fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as +she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her +with bitter words. Why look you so upon me? + +PHEBE +For no ill will I bear you. + +ROSALIND +I pray you, do not fall in love with me, +For I am falser than vows made in wine: +Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, +'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. +Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. +Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better, +And be not proud: though all the world could see, +None could be so abused in sight as he. +Come, to our flock. + +Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN + +PHEBE +Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, +'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe,-- + +PHEBE +Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, pity me. + +PHEBE +Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. + +SILVIUS +Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: +If you do sorrow at my grief in love, +By giving love your sorrow and my grief +Were both extermined. + +PHEBE +Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly? + +SILVIUS +I would have you. + +PHEBE +Why, that were covetousness. +Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, +And yet it is not that I bear thee love; +But since that thou canst talk of love so well, +Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, +I will endure, and I'll employ thee too: +But do not look for further recompense +Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd. + +SILVIUS +So holy and so perfect is my love, +And I in such a poverty of grace, +That I shall think it a most plenteous crop +To glean the broken ears after the man +That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then +A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. + +PHEBE +Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile? + +SILVIUS +Not very well, but I have met him oft; +And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds +That the old carlot once was master of. + +PHEBE +Think not I love him, though I ask for him: +'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; +But what care I for words? yet words do well +When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. +It is a pretty youth: not very pretty: +But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him: +He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him +Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue +Did make offence his eye did heal it up. +He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: +His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: +There was a pretty redness in his lip, +A little riper and more lusty red +Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference +Between the constant red and mingled damask. +There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him +In parcels as I did, would have gone near +To fall in love with him; but, for my part, +I love him not nor hate him not; and yet +I have more cause to hate him than to love him: +For what had he to do to chide at me? +He said mine eyes were black and my hair black: +And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: +I marvel why I answer'd not again: +But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. +I'll write to him a very taunting letter, +And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Phebe, with all my heart. + +PHEBE +I'll write it straight; +The matter's in my head and in my heart: +I will be bitter with him and passing short. +Go with me, Silvius. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES +JAQUES +I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted +with thee. + +ROSALIND +They say you are a melancholy fellow. + +JAQUES +I am so; I do love it better than laughing. + +ROSALIND +Those that are in extremity of either are abominable +fellows and betray themselves to every modern +censure worse than drunkards. + +JAQUES +Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. + +ROSALIND +Why then, 'tis good to be a post. + +JAQUES +I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is +emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical, +nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the +soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, +which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor +the lover's, which is all these: but it is a +melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, +extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's +contemplation of my travels, in which my often +rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness. + +ROSALIND +A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to +be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see +other men's; then, to have seen much and to have +nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. + +JAQUES +Yes, I have gained my experience. + +ROSALIND +And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have +a fool to make me merry than experience to make me +sad; and to travel for it too! + +Enter ORLANDO + +ORLANDO +Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! + +JAQUES +Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and +wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your +own country, be out of love with your nativity and +almost chide God for making you that countenance you +are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a +gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been +all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such +another trick, never come in my sight more. + +ORLANDO +My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. + +ROSALIND +Break an hour's promise in love! He that will +divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but +a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the +affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid +hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant +him heart-whole. + +ORLANDO +Pardon me, dear Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I +had as lief be wooed of a snail. + +ORLANDO +Of a snail? + +ROSALIND +Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he +carries his house on his head; a better jointure, +I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings +his destiny with him. + +ORLANDO +What's that? + +ROSALIND +Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be +beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in +his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife. + +ORLANDO +Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. + +ROSALIND +And I am your Rosalind. + +CELIA +It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a +Rosalind of a better leer than you. + +ROSALIND +Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday +humour and like enough to consent. What would you +say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I would kiss before I spoke. + +ROSALIND +Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were +gravelled for lack of matter, you might take +occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are +out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking--God +warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. + +ORLANDO +How if the kiss be denied? + +ROSALIND +Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. + +ORLANDO +Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? + +ROSALIND +Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or +I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. + +ORLANDO +What, of my suit? + +ROSALIND +Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. +Am not I your Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I take some joy to say you are, because I would be +talking of her. + +ROSALIND +Well in her person I say I will not have you. + +ORLANDO +Then in mine own person I die. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is +almost six thousand years old, and in all this time +there was not any man died in his own person, +videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains +dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he +could to die before, and he is one of the patterns +of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair +year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been +for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went +but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being +taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish +coroners of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos.' +But these are all lies: men have died from time to +time and worms have eaten them, but not for love. + +ORLANDO +I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, +for, I protest, her frown might kill me. + +ROSALIND +By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now +I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on +disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant +it. + +ORLANDO +Then love me, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all. + +ORLANDO +And wilt thou have me? + +ROSALIND +Ay, and twenty such. + +ORLANDO +What sayest thou? + +ROSALIND +Are you not good? + +ORLANDO +I hope so. + +ROSALIND +Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? +Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. +Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister? + +ORLANDO +Pray thee, marry us. + +CELIA +I cannot say the words. + +ROSALIND +You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--' + +CELIA +Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I will. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but when? + +ORLANDO +Why now; as fast as she can marry us. + +ROSALIND +Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.' + +ORLANDO +I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. + +ROSALIND +I might ask you for your commission; but I do take +thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes +before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought +runs before her actions. + +ORLANDO +So do all thoughts; they are winged. + +ROSALIND +Now tell me how long you would have her after you +have possessed her. + +ORLANDO +For ever and a day. + +ROSALIND +Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; +men are April when they woo, December when they wed: +maids are May when they are maids, but the sky +changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous +of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, +more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more +new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires +than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana +in the fountain, and I will do that when you are +disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and +that when thou art inclined to sleep. + +ORLANDO +But will my Rosalind do so? + +ROSALIND +By my life, she will do as I do. + +ORLANDO +O, but she is wise. + +ROSALIND +Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the +wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's +wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and +'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly +with the smoke out at the chimney. + +ORLANDO +A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say +'Wit, whither wilt?' + +ROSALIND +Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met +your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. + +ORLANDO +And what wit could wit have to excuse that? + +ROSALIND +Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall +never take her without her answer, unless you take +her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot +make her fault her husband's occasion, let her +never nurse her child herself, for she will breed +it like a fool! + +ORLANDO +For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. + +ROSALIND +Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. + +ORLANDO +I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I +will be with thee again. + +ROSALIND +Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you +would prove: my friends told me as much, and I +thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours +won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come, +death! Two o'clock is your hour? + +ORLANDO +Ay, sweet Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend +me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, +if you break one jot of your promise or come one +minute behind your hour, I will think you the most +pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover +and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that +may be chosen out of the gross band of the +unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep +your promise. + +ORLANDO +With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my +Rosalind: so adieu. + +ROSALIND +Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such +offenders, and let Time try: adieu. + +Exit ORLANDO + +CELIA +You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate: +we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your +head, and show the world what the bird hath done to +her own nest. + +ROSALIND +O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou +didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But +it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown +bottom, like the bay of Portugal. + +CELIA +Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour +affection in, it runs out. + +ROSALIND +No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot +of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness, +that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes +because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I +am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out +of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and +sigh till he come. + +CELIA +And I'll sleep. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters +JAQUES +Which is he that killed the deer? + +A Lord +Sir, it was I. + +JAQUES +Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman +conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's +horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have +you no song, forester, for this purpose? + +Forester +Yes, sir. + +JAQUES +Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it +make noise enough. +SONG. + +Forester +What shall he have that kill'd the deer? +His leather skin and horns to wear. +Then sing him home; + +The rest shall bear this burden + +Take thou no scorn to wear the horn; +It was a crest ere thou wast born: +Thy father's father wore it, +And thy father bore it: +The horn, the horn, the lusty horn +Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and +here much Orlando! + +CELIA +I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he +hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to +sleep. Look, who comes here. + +Enter SILVIUS + +SILVIUS +My errand is to you, fair youth; +My gentle Phebe bid me give you this: +I know not the contents; but, as I guess +By the stern brow and waspish action +Which she did use as she was writing of it, +It bears an angry tenor: pardon me: +I am but as a guiltless messenger. + +ROSALIND +Patience herself would startle at this letter +And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: +She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; +She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, +Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will! +Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: +Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, +This is a letter of your own device. + +SILVIUS +No, I protest, I know not the contents: +Phebe did write it. + +ROSALIND +Come, come, you are a fool +And turn'd into the extremity of love. +I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand. +A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think +That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands: +She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter: +I say she never did invent this letter; +This is a man's invention and his hand. + +SILVIUS +Sure, it is hers. + +ROSALIND +Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style. +A style for-challengers; why, she defies me, +Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain +Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention +Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect +Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter? + +SILVIUS +So please you, for I never heard it yet; +Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. + +ROSALIND +She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. + +Reads + +Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, +That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? +Can a woman rail thus? + +SILVIUS +Call you this railing? + +ROSALIND +[Reads] +Why, thy godhead laid apart, +Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? +Did you ever hear such railing? +Whiles the eye of man did woo me, +That could do no vengeance to me. +Meaning me a beast. +If the scorn of your bright eyne +Have power to raise such love in mine, +Alack, in me what strange effect +Would they work in mild aspect! +Whiles you chid me, I did love; +How then might your prayers move! +He that brings this love to thee +Little knows this love in me: +And by him seal up thy mind; +Whether that thy youth and kind +Will the faithful offer take +Of me and all that I can make; +Or else by him my love deny, +And then I'll study how to die. + +SILVIUS +Call you this chiding? + +CELIA +Alas, poor shepherd! + +ROSALIND +Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt +thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an +instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to +be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see +love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to +her: that if she love me, I charge her to love +thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless +thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, +hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. + +Exit SILVIUS + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, +Where in the purlieus of this forest stands +A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees? + +CELIA +West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom: +The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream +Left on your right hand brings you to the place. +But at this hour the house doth keep itself; +There's none within. + +OLIVER +If that an eye may profit by a tongue, +Then should I know you by description; +Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair, +Of female favour, and bestows himself +Like a ripe sister: the woman low +And browner than her brother.' Are not you +The owner of the house I did inquire for? + +CELIA +It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are. + +OLIVER +Orlando doth commend him to you both, +And to that youth he calls his Rosalind +He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? + +ROSALIND +I am: what must we understand by this? + +OLIVER +Some of my shame; if you will know of me +What man I am, and how, and why, and where +This handkercher was stain'd. + +CELIA +I pray you, tell it. + +OLIVER +When last the young Orlando parted from you +He left a promise to return again +Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, +Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, +Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside, +And mark what object did present itself: +Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age +And high top bald with dry antiquity, +A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, +Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck +A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, +Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd +The opening of his mouth; but suddenly, +Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, +And with indented glides did slip away +Into a bush: under which bush's shade +A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, +Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, +When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis +The royal disposition of that beast +To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: +This seen, Orlando did approach the man +And found it was his brother, his elder brother. + +CELIA +O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; +And he did render him the most unnatural +That lived amongst men. + +OLIVER +And well he might so do, +For well I know he was unnatural. + +ROSALIND +But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, +Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? + +OLIVER +Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; +But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, +And nature, stronger than his just occasion, +Made him give battle to the lioness, +Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling +From miserable slumber I awaked. + +CELIA +Are you his brother? + +ROSALIND +Wast you he rescued? + +CELIA +Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? + +OLIVER +'Twas I; but 'tis not I I do not shame +To tell you what I was, since my conversion +So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. + +ROSALIND +But, for the bloody napkin? + +OLIVER +By and by. +When from the first to last betwixt us two +Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, +As how I came into that desert place:-- +In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, +Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, +Committing me unto my brother's love; +Who led me instantly unto his cave, +There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm +The lioness had torn some flesh away, +Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted +And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. +Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound; +And, after some small space, being strong at heart, +He sent me hither, stranger as I am, +To tell this story, that you might excuse +His broken promise, and to give this napkin +Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth +That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. + +ROSALIND swoons + +CELIA +Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Many will swoon when they do look on blood. + +CELIA +There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Look, he recovers. + +ROSALIND +I would I were at home. + +CELIA +We'll lead you thither. +I pray you, will you take him by the arm? + +OLIVER +Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a +man's heart. + +ROSALIND +I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would +think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell +your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho! + +OLIVER +This was not counterfeit: there is too great +testimony in your complexion that it was a passion +of earnest. + +ROSALIND +Counterfeit, I assure you. + +OLIVER +Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man. + +ROSALIND +So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. + +CELIA +Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw +homewards. Good sir, go with us. + +OLIVER +That will I, for I must bear answer back +How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend +my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. + +AUDREY +Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old +gentleman's saying. + +TOUCHSTONE +A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile +Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the +forest lays claim to you. + +AUDREY +Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in +the world: here comes the man you mean. + +TOUCHSTONE +It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my +troth, we that have good wits have much to answer +for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. + +Enter WILLIAM + +WILLIAM +Good even, Audrey. + +AUDREY +God ye good even, William. + +WILLIAM +And good even to you, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy +head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend? + +WILLIAM +Five and twenty, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A ripe age. Is thy name William? + +WILLIAM +William, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I thank God. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich? + +WILLIAM +Faith, sir, so so. + +TOUCHSTONE +'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and +yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying, +'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man +knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen +philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, +would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; +meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and +lips to open. You do love this maid? + +WILLIAM +I do, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +WILLIAM +No, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it +is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out +of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty +the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse +is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he. + +WILLIAM +Which he, sir? + +TOUCHSTONE +He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you +clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the +society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this +female,--which in the common is woman; which +together is, abandon the society of this female, or, +clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better +understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make +thee away, translate thy life into death, thy +liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with +thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy +with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with +policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: +therefore tremble and depart. + +AUDREY +Do, good William. + +WILLIAM +God rest you merry, sir. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away! + +TOUCHSTONE +Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER +ORLANDO +Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you +should like her? that but seeing you should love +her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should +grant? and will you persever to enjoy her? + +OLIVER +Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the +poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden +wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, +I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me; +consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it +shall be to your good; for my father's house and all +the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I +estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd. + +ORLANDO +You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: +thither will I invite the duke and all's contented +followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look +you, here comes my Rosalind. + +Enter ROSALIND + +ROSALIND +God save you, brother. + +OLIVER +And you, fair sister. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee +wear thy heart in a scarf! + +ORLANDO +It is my arm. + +ROSALIND +I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws +of a lion. + +ORLANDO +Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. + +ROSALIND +Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to +swoon when he showed me your handkerchief? + +ORLANDO +Ay, and greater wonders than that. + +ROSALIND +O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was +never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams +and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and +overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner +met but they looked, no sooner looked but they +loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner +sighed but they asked one another the reason, no +sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; +and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs +to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or +else be incontinent before marriage: they are in +the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs +cannot part them. + +ORLANDO +They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the +duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it +is to look into happiness through another man's +eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at +the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall +think my brother happy in having what he wishes for. + +ROSALIND +Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I can live no longer by thinking. + +ROSALIND +I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. +Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose, +that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I +speak not this that you should bear a good opinion +of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are; +neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in +some little measure draw a belief from you, to do +yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if +you please, that I can do strange things: I have, +since I was three year old, conversed with a +magician, most profound in his art and yet not +damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart +as your gesture cries it out, when your brother +marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into +what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is +not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient +to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human +as she is and without any danger. + +ORLANDO +Speakest thou in sober meanings? + +ROSALIND +By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I +say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your +best array: bid your friends; for if you will be +married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE + +Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. + +PHEBE +Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, +To show the letter that I writ to you. + +ROSALIND +I care not if I have: it is my study +To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: +You are there followed by a faithful shepherd; +Look upon him, love him; he worships you. + +PHEBE +Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of sighs and tears; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of faith and service; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of fantasy, +All made of passion and all made of wishes, +All adoration, duty, and observance, +All humbleness, all patience and impatience, +All purity, all trial, all observance; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And so am I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And so am I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And so am I for no woman. + +PHEBE +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +SILVIUS +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ORLANDO +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ROSALIND +Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?' + +ORLANDO +To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. + +ROSALIND +Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling +of Irish wolves against the moon. + +To SILVIUS + +I will help you, if I can: + +To PHEBE + +I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together. + +To PHEBE + +I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be +married to-morrow: + +To ORLANDO + +I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you +shall be married to-morrow: + +To SILVIUS + +I will content you, if what pleases you contents +you, and you shall be married to-morrow. + +To ORLANDO + +As you love Rosalind, meet: + +To SILVIUS + +as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman, +I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands. + +SILVIUS +I'll not fail, if I live. + +PHEBE +Nor I. + +ORLANDO +Nor I. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will +we be married. + +AUDREY +I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is +no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the +world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages. + +Enter two Pages + +First Page +Well met, honest gentleman. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song. + +Second Page +We are for you: sit i' the middle. + +First Page +Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or +spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only +prologues to a bad voice? + +Second Page +I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two +gipsies on a horse. +SONG. +It was a lover and his lass, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +That o'er the green corn-field did pass +In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, +When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: +Sweet lovers love the spring. +Between the acres of the rye, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino +These pretty country folks would lie, +In spring time, & c. +This carol they began that hour, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +How that a life was but a flower +In spring time, & c. +And therefore take the present time, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; +For love is crowned with the prime +In spring time, & c. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great +matter in the ditty, yet the note was very +untuneable. + +First Page +You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear +such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend +your voices! Come, Audrey. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA +DUKE SENIOR +Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy +Can do all this that he hath promised? + +ORLANDO +I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; +As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. + +Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE + +ROSALIND +Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged: +You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, +You will bestow her on Orlando here? + +DUKE SENIOR +That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. + +ROSALIND +And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? + +ORLANDO +That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. + +ROSALIND +You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? + +PHEBE +That will I, should I die the hour after. + +ROSALIND +But if you do refuse to marry me, +You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? + +PHEBE +So is the bargain. + +ROSALIND +You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? + +SILVIUS +Though to have her and death were both one thing. + +ROSALIND +I have promised to make all this matter even. +Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter; +You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter: +Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, +Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd: +Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her. +If she refuse me: and from hence I go, +To make these doubts all even. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +DUKE SENIOR +I do remember in this shepherd boy +Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. + +ORLANDO +My lord, the first time that I ever saw him +Methought he was a brother to your daughter: +But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, +And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments +Of many desperate studies by his uncle, +Whom he reports to be a great magician, +Obscured in the circle of this forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +JAQUES +There is, sure, another flood toward, and these +couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of +very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. + +TOUCHSTONE +Salutation and greeting to you all! + +JAQUES +Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the +motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in +the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears. + +TOUCHSTONE +If any man doubt that, let him put me to my +purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered +a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth +with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have +had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. + +JAQUES +And how was that ta'en up? + +TOUCHSTONE +Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the +seventh cause. + +JAQUES +How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow. + +DUKE SENIOR +I like him very well. + +TOUCHSTONE +God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I +press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country +copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as +marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin, +sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor +humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else +will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a +poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. + +DUKE SENIOR +By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. + +TOUCHSTONE +According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. + +JAQUES +But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the +quarrel on the seventh cause? + +TOUCHSTONE +Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more +seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the +cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, +if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the +mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous. +If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he +would send me word, he cut it to please himself: +this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was +not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is +called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this +is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the +Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie +Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. + +JAQUES +And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut? + +TOUCHSTONE +I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, +nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we +measured swords and parted. + +JAQUES +Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? + +TOUCHSTONE +O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have +books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. +The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the +Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the +fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the +Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with +Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All +these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may +avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven +justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the +parties were met themselves, one of them thought but +of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and +they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the +only peacemaker; much virtue in If. + +JAQUES +Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at +any thing and yet a fool. + +DUKE SENIOR +He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under +the presentation of that he shoots his wit. + +Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA + +Still Music + +HYMEN +Then is there mirth in heaven, +When earthly things made even +Atone together. +Good duke, receive thy daughter +Hymen from heaven brought her, +Yea, brought her hither, +That thou mightst join her hand with his +Whose heart within his bosom is. + +ROSALIND +[To DUKE SENIOR] To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +To ORLANDO + +To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +DUKE SENIOR +If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. + +ORLANDO +If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. + +PHEBE +If sight and shape be true, +Why then, my love adieu! + +ROSALIND +I'll have no father, if you be not he: +I'll have no husband, if you be not he: +Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. + +HYMEN +Peace, ho! I bar confusion: +'Tis I must make conclusion +Of these most strange events: +Here's eight that must take hands +To join in Hymen's bands, +If truth holds true contents. +You and you no cross shall part: +You and you are heart in heart +You to his love must accord, +Or have a woman to your lord: +You and you are sure together, +As the winter to foul weather. +Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, +Feed yourselves with questioning; +That reason wonder may diminish, +How thus we met, and these things finish. +SONG. +Wedding is great Juno's crown: +O blessed bond of board and bed! +'Tis Hymen peoples every town; +High wedlock then be honoured: +Honour, high honour and renown, +To Hymen, god of every town! + +DUKE SENIOR +O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me! +Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree. + +PHEBE +I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; +Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. + +Enter JAQUES DE BOYS + +JAQUES DE BOYS +Let me have audience for a word or two: +I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, +That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. +Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day +Men of great worth resorted to this forest, +Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot, +In his own conduct, purposely to take +His brother here and put him to the sword: +And to the skirts of this wild wood he came; +Where meeting with an old religious man, +After some question with him, was converted +Both from his enterprise and from the world, +His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, +And all their lands restored to them again +That were with him exiled. This to be true, +I do engage my life. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome, young man; +Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: +To one his lands withheld, and to the other +A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. +First, in this forest, let us do those ends +That here were well begun and well begot: +And after, every of this happy number +That have endured shrewd days and nights with us +Shall share the good of our returned fortune, +According to the measure of their states. +Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity +And fall into our rustic revelry. +Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, +With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall. + +JAQUES +Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly, +The duke hath put on a religious life +And thrown into neglect the pompous court? + +JAQUES DE BOYS +He hath. + +JAQUES +To him will I : out of these convertites +There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. + +To DUKE SENIOR + +You to your former honour I bequeath; +Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: + +To ORLANDO + +You to a love that your true faith doth merit: + +To OLIVER + +You to your land and love and great allies: + +To SILVIUS + +You to a long and well-deserved bed: + +To TOUCHSTONE + +And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage +Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures: +I am for other than for dancing measures. + +DUKE SENIOR +Stay, Jaques, stay. + +JAQUES +To see no pastime I what you would have +I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, +As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. + +A dance + +EPILOGUE + +ROSALIND +It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; +but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord +the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs +no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no +epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, +and good plays prove the better by the help of good +epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am +neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with +you in the behalf of a good play! I am not +furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not +become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin +with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love +you bear to men, to like as much of this play as +please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love +you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering, +none of you hates them--that between you and the +women the play may please. If I were a woman I +would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased +me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I +defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good +beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my +kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. + +Exeunt +The Comedy of Errors +Shakespeare homepage | Comedy of Errors | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace. + +Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants +AEGEON +Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall +And by the doom of death end woes and all. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more; +I am not partial to infringe our laws: +The enmity and discord which of late +Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke +To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, +Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives +Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, +Excludes all pity from our threatening looks. +For, since the mortal and intestine jars +'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, +It hath in solemn synods been decreed +Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, +To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more, +If any born at Ephesus be seen +At any Syracusian marts and fairs; +Again: if any Syracusian born +Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, +His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose, +Unless a thousand marks be levied, +To quit the penalty and to ransom him. +Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, +Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; +Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. + +AEGEON +Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, +My woes end likewise with the evening sun. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause +Why thou departed'st from thy native home +And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus. + +AEGEON +A heavier task could not have been imposed +Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: +Yet, that the world may witness that my end +Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, +I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave. +In Syracusa was I born, and wed +Unto a woman, happy but for me, +And by me, had not our hap been bad. +With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased +By prosperous voyages I often made +To Epidamnum; till my factor's death +And the great care of goods at random left +Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse: +From whom my absence was not six months old +Before herself, almost at fainting under +The pleasing punishment that women bear, +Had made provision for her following me +And soon and safe arrived where I was. +There had she not been long, but she became +A joyful mother of two goodly sons; +And, which was strange, the one so like the other, +As could not be distinguish'd but by names. +That very hour, and in the self-same inn, +A meaner woman was delivered +Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: +Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,-- +I bought and brought up to attend my sons. +My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, +Made daily motions for our home return: +Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon, +We came aboard. +A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, +Before the always wind-obeying deep +Gave any tragic instance of our harm: +But longer did we not retain much hope; +For what obscured light the heavens did grant +Did but convey unto our fearful minds +A doubtful warrant of immediate death; +Which though myself would gladly have embraced, +Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, +Weeping before for what she saw must come, +And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, +That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, +Forced me to seek delays for them and me. +And this it was, for other means was none: +The sailors sought for safety by our boat, +And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us: +My wife, more careful for the latter-born, +Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, +Such as seafaring men provide for storms; +To him one of the other twins was bound, +Whilst I had been like heedful of the other: +The children thus disposed, my wife and I, +Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, +Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast; +And floating straight, obedient to the stream, +Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. +At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, +Dispersed those vapours that offended us; +And by the benefit of his wished light, +The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered +Two ships from far making amain to us, +Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: +But ere they came,--O, let me say no more! +Gather the sequel by that went before. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so; +For we may pity, though not pardon thee. + +AEGEON +O, had the gods done so, I had not now +Worthily term'd them merciless to us! +For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, +We were encounterd by a mighty rock; +Which being violently borne upon, +Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; +So that, in this unjust divorce of us, +Fortune had left to both of us alike +What to delight in, what to sorrow for. +Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened +With lesser weight but not with lesser woe, +Was carried with more speed before the wind; +And in our sight they three were taken up +By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. +At length, another ship had seized on us; +And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, +Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests; +And would have reft the fishers of their prey, +Had not their bark been very slow of sail; +And therefore homeward did they bend their course. +Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; +That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, +To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. + +DUKE SOLINUS +And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, +Do me the favour to dilate at full +What hath befall'n of them and thee till now. + +AEGEON +My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, +At eighteen years became inquisitive +After his brother: and importuned me +That his attendant--so his case was like, +Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name-- +Might bear him company in the quest of him: +Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, +I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. +Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, +Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, +And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; +Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought +Or that or any place that harbours men. +But here must end the story of my life; +And happy were I in my timely death, +Could all my travels warrant me they live. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd +To bear the extremity of dire mishap! +Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, +Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, +Which princes, would they, may not disannul, +My soul would sue as advocate for thee. +But, though thou art adjudged to the death +And passed sentence may not be recall'd +But to our honour's great disparagement, +Yet I will favour thee in what I can. +Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day +To seek thy life by beneficial help: +Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; +Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, +And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die. +Gaoler, take him to thy custody. + +Gaoler +I will, my lord. + +AEGEON +Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend, +But to procrastinate his lifeless end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Mart. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant +First Merchant +Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, +Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. +This very day a Syracusian merchant +Is apprehended for arrival here; +And not being able to buy out his life +According to the statute of the town, +Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. +There is your money that I had to keep. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, +And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. +Within this hour it will be dinner-time: +Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, +Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, +And then return and sleep within mine inn, +For with long travel I am stiff and weary. +Get thee away. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Many a man would take you at your word, +And go indeed, having so good a mean. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, +When I am dull with care and melancholy, +Lightens my humour with his merry jests. +What, will you walk with me about the town, +And then go to my inn and dine with me? + +First Merchant +I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, +Of whom I hope to make much benefit; +I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, +Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart +And afterward consort you till bed-time: +My present business calls me from you now. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Farewell till then: I will go lose myself +And wander up and down to view the city. + +First Merchant +Sir, I commend you to your own content. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +He that commends me to mine own content +Commends me to the thing I cannot get. +I to the world am like a drop of water +That in the ocean seeks another drop, +Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, +Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: +So I, to find a mother and a brother, +In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +Here comes the almanac of my true date. +What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late: +The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, +The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; +My mistress made it one upon my cheek: +She is so hot because the meat is cold; +The meat is cold because you come not home; +You come not home because you have no stomach; +You have no stomach having broke your fast; +But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray +Are penitent for your default to-day. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: +Where have you left the money that I gave you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last +To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? +The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I am not in a sportive humour now: +Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? +We being strangers here, how darest thou trust +So great a charge from thine own custody? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner: +I from my mistress come to you in post; +If I return, I shall be post indeed, +For she will score your fault upon my pate. +Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock, +And strike you home without a messenger. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; +Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. +Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, +And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +My charge was but to fetch you from the mart +Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: +My mistress and her sister stays for you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, +Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours +That stands on tricks when I am undisposed: +Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I have some marks of yours upon my pate, +Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, +But not a thousand marks between you both. +If I should pay your worship those again, +Perchance you will not bear them patiently. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; +She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, +And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, +Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! +Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Upon my life, by some device or other +The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. +They say this town is full of cozenage, +As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, +Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, +Soul-killing witches that deform the body, +Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, +And many such-like liberties of sin: +If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. +I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: +I greatly fear my money is not safe. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA +ADRIANA +Neither my husband nor the slave return'd, +That in such haste I sent to seek his master! +Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. + +LUCIANA +Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, +And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. +Good sister, let us dine and never fret: +A man is master of his liberty: +Time is their master, and, when they see time, +They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister. + +ADRIANA +Why should their liberty than ours be more? + +LUCIANA +Because their business still lies out o' door. + +ADRIANA +Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. + +LUCIANA +O, know he is the bridle of your will. + +ADRIANA +There's none but asses will be bridled so. + +LUCIANA +Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. +There's nothing situate under heaven's eye +But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: +The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, +Are their males' subjects and at their controls: +Men, more divine, the masters of all these, +Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, +Indued with intellectual sense and souls, +Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, +Are masters to their females, and their lords: +Then let your will attend on their accords. + +ADRIANA +This servitude makes you to keep unwed. + +LUCIANA +Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. + +ADRIANA +But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. + +LUCIANA +Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. + +ADRIANA +How if your husband start some other where? + +LUCIANA +Till he come home again, I would forbear. + +ADRIANA +Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; +They can be meek that have no other cause. +A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, +We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; +But were we burdened with like weight of pain, +As much or more would we ourselves complain: +So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, +With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, +But, if thou live to see like right bereft, +This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. + +LUCIANA +Well, I will marry one day, but to try. +Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +ADRIANA +Say, is your tardy master now at hand? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears +can witness. + +ADRIANA +Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: +Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. + +LUCIANA +Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his +blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce +understand them. + +ADRIANA +But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he +hath great care to please his wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. + +ADRIANA +Horn-mad, thou villain! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I mean not cuckold-mad; +But, sure, he is stark mad. +When I desired him to come home to dinner, +He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: +''Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he; +'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he: +'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he. +'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?' +'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he: +'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress! +I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!' + +LUCIANA +Quoth who? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Quoth my master: +'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' +So that my errand, due unto my tongue, +I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; +For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. + +ADRIANA +Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Go back again, and be new beaten home? +For God's sake, send some other messenger. + +ADRIANA +Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And he will bless that cross with other beating: +Between you I shall have a holy head. + +ADRIANA +Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Am I so round with you as you with me, +That like a football you do spurn me thus? +You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: +If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. + +Exit + +LUCIANA +Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! + +ADRIANA +His company must do his minions grace, +Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. +Hath homely age the alluring beauty took +From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: +Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? +If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, +Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard: +Do their gay vestments his affections bait? +That's not my fault: he's master of my state: +What ruins are in me that can be found, +By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground +Of my defeatures. My decayed fair +A sunny look of his would soon repair +But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale +And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. + +LUCIANA +Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence! + +ADRIANA +Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. +I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, +Or else what lets it but he would be here? +Sister, you know he promised me a chain; +Would that alone, alone he would detain, +So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! +I see the jewel best enamelled +Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, +That others touch, and often touching will +Wear gold: and no man that hath a name, +By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. +Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, +I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. + +LUCIANA +How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up +Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave +Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out +By computation and mine host's report. +I could not speak with Dromio since at first +I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. + +Enter DROMIO of Syracuse + +How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd? +As you love strokes, so jest with me again. +You know no Centaur? you received no gold? +Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? +My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, +That thus so madly thou didst answer me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Even now, even here, not half an hour since. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I did not see you since you sent me hence, +Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, +And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; +For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am glad to see you in this merry vein: +What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? +Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. + +Beating him + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest: +Upon what bargain do you give it me? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Because that I familiarly sometimes +Do use you for my fool and chat with you, +Your sauciness will jest upon my love +And make a common of my serious hours. +When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, +But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. +If you will jest with me, know my aspect, +And fashion your demeanor to my looks, +Or I will beat this method in your sconce. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I +had rather have it a head: an you use these blows +long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce +it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. +But, I pray, sir why am I beaten? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Dost thou not know? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Shall I tell you why? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath +a wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore-- +For urging it the second time to me. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, +When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme +nor reason? +Well, sir, I thank you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thank me, sir, for what? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for +something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In good time, sir; what's that? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Your reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another +dry basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By what rule, sir? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald +pate of father Time himself. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Let's hear it. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +There's no time for a man to recover his hair that +grows bald by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +May he not do it by fine and recovery? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the +lost hair of another man. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, +so plentiful an excrement? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; +and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth +it in a kind of jollity. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +For what reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +For two; and sound ones too. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sound, I pray you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sure ones, then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Certain ones then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Name them. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The one, to save the money that he spends in +trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not +drop in his porridge. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +You would all this time have proved there is no +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair +lost by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +But your reason was not substantial, why there is no +time to recover. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore +to the world's end will have bald followers. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: +But, soft! who wafts us yonder? + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA + +ADRIANA +Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown: +Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects; +I am not Adriana nor thy wife. +The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow +That never words were music to thine ear, +That never object pleasing in thine eye, +That never touch well welcome to thy hand, +That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste, +Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee. +How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it, +That thou art thus estranged from thyself? +Thyself I call it, being strange to me, +That, undividable, incorporate, +Am better than thy dear self's better part. +Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! +For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall +A drop of water in the breaking gulf, +And take unmingled that same drop again, +Without addition or diminishing, +As take from me thyself and not me too. +How dearly would it touch me to the quick, +Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious +And that this body, consecrate to thee, +By ruffian lust should be contaminate! +Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me +And hurl the name of husband in my face +And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow +And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring +And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? +I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it. +I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; +My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: +For if we too be one and thou play false, +I do digest the poison of thy flesh, +Being strumpeted by thy contagion. +Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed; +I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: +In Ephesus I am but two hours old, +As strange unto your town as to your talk; +Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, +Want wit in all one word to understand. + +LUCIANA +Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you! +When were you wont to use my sister thus? +She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +By me? + +ADRIANA +By thee; and this thou didst return from him, +That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, +Denied my house for his, me for his wife. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? +What is the course and drift of your compact? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir? I never saw her till this time. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou liest; for even her very words +Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I never spake with her in all my life. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +How can she thus then call us by our names, +Unless it be by inspiration. + +ADRIANA +How ill agrees it with your gravity +To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, +Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! +Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, +But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. +Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: +Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, +Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, +Makes me with thy strength to communicate: +If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, +Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; +Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion +Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: +What, was I married to her in my dream? +Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? +What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? +Until I know this sure uncertainty, +I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. + +LUCIANA +Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. +This is the fairy land: O spite of spites! +We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: +If we obey them not, this will ensue, +They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. + +LUCIANA +Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? +Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am transformed, master, am I not? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I think thou art in mind, and so am I. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thou hast thine own form. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, I am an ape. + +LUCIANA +If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass. +'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be +But I should know her as well as she knows me. + +ADRIANA +Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, +To put the finger in the eye and weep, +Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. +Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. +Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day +And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. +Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, +Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. +Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? +Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? +Known unto these, and to myself disguised! +I'll say as they say and persever so, +And in this mist at all adventures go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, shall I be porter at the gate? + +ADRIANA +Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. + +LUCIANA +Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; +My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: +Say that I linger'd with you at your shop +To see the making of her carcanet, +And that to-morrow you will bring it home. +But here's a villain that would face me down +He met me on the mart, and that I beat him, +And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, +And that I did deny my wife and house. +Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know; +That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: +If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, +Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +I think thou art an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Marry, so it doth appear +By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. +I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass, +You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer +May answer my good will and your good welcome here. + +BALTHAZAR +I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your +welcome dear. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, +A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish. + +BALTHAZAR +Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. + +BALTHAZAR +Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: +But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; +Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. +But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, +idiot, patch! +Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch. +Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st +for such store, +When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What patch is made our porter? My master stays in +the street. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he +catch cold on's feet. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Who talks within there? ho, open the door! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell +me wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Nor to-day here you must not; come again +when you may. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] The porter for this time, sir, and my name +is Dromio. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name. +The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. +If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, +Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy +name for an ass. + +LUCE +[Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those +at the gate? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Let my master in, Luce. + +LUCE +[Within] Faith, no; he comes too late; +And so tell your master. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O Lord, I must laugh! +Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff? + +LUCE +[Within] Have at you with another; that's--When? +can you tell? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast +answered him well. + +ANTIPHOLUS +Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? +OF EPHESUS + +LUCE +[Within] I thought to have asked you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] And you said no. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Thou baggage, let me in. + +LUCE +[Within] Can you tell for whose sake? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, knock the door hard. + +LUCE +[Within] Let him knock till it ache. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. + +LUCE +[Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? + +ADRIANA +[Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all +this noise? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with +unruly boys. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Are you there, wife? you might have come before. + +ADRIANA +[Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore. + +ANGELO +Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would +fain have either. + +BALTHAZAR +In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. +Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: +It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your +knave's pate. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind, +Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon +thee, hind! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee, +let me in. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? +For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather; +If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. + +BALTHAZAR +Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so! +Herein you war against your reputation +And draw within the compass of suspect +The unviolated honour of your wife. +Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom, +Her sober virtue, years and modesty, +Plead on her part some cause to you unknown: +And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse +Why at this time the doors are made against you. +Be ruled by me: depart in patience, +And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, +And about evening come yourself alone +To know the reason of this strange restraint. +If by strong hand you offer to break in +Now in the stirring passage of the day, +A vulgar comment will be made of it, +And that supposed by the common rout +Against your yet ungalled estimation +That may with foul intrusion enter in +And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; +For slander lives upon succession, +For ever housed where it gets possession. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet, +And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. +I know a wench of excellent discourse, +Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle: +There will we dine. This woman that I mean, +My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- +Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal: +To her will we to dinner. + +To Angelo + +Get you home +And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made: +Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine; +For there's the house: that chain will I bestow-- +Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-- +Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste. +Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, +I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. + +The First part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others +KING HENRY IV +So shaken as we are, so wan with care, +Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, +And breathe short-winded accents of new broils +To be commenced in strands afar remote. +No more the thirsty entrance of this soil +Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; +Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, +Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs +Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, +Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, +All of one nature, of one substance bred, +Did lately meet in the intestine shock +And furious close of civil butchery +Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, +March all one way and be no more opposed +Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: +The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, +No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, +As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, +Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross +We are impressed and engaged to fight, +Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; +Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb +To chase these pagans in those holy fields +Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet +Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd +For our advantage on the bitter cross. +But this our purpose now is twelve month old, +And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: +Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear +Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, +What yesternight our council did decree +In forwarding this dear expedience. + +WESTMORELAND +My liege, this haste was hot in question, +And many limits of the charge set down +But yesternight: when all athwart there came +A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; +Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, +Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight +Against the irregular and wild Glendower, +Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, +A thousand of his people butchered; +Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, +Such beastly shameless transformation, +By those Welshwomen done as may not be +Without much shame retold or spoken of. + +KING HENRY IV +It seems then that the tidings of this broil +Brake off our business for the Holy Land. + +WESTMORELAND +This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; +For more uneven and unwelcome news +Came from the north and thus it did import: +On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there, +Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald, +That ever-valiant and approved Scot, +At Holmedon met, +Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour, +As by discharge of their artillery, +And shape of likelihood, the news was told; +For he that brought them, in the very heat +And pride of their contention did take horse, +Uncertain of the issue any way. + +KING HENRY IV +Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, +Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse. +Stain'd with the variation of each soil +Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; +And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. +The Earl of Douglas is discomfited: +Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, +Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see +On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took +Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son +To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, +Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith: +And is not this an honourable spoil? +A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? + +WESTMORELAND +In faith, +It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. + +KING HENRY IV +Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin +In envy that my Lord Northumberland +Should be the father to so blest a son, +A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; +Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; +Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: +Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, +See riot and dishonour stain the brow +Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved +That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged +In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, +And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! +Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. +But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, +Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, +Which he in this adventure hath surprised, +To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, +I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. + +WESTMORELAND +This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester, +Malevolent to you in all aspects; +Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up +The crest of youth against your dignity. + +KING HENRY IV +But I have sent for him to answer this; +And for this cause awhile we must neglect +Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. +Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we +Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: +But come yourself with speed to us again; +For more is to be said and to be done +Than out of anger can be uttered. + +WESTMORELAND +I will, my liege. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. + +Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF +FALSTAFF +Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack +and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon +benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to +demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. +What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the +day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes +capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the +signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself +a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no +reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand +the time of the day. + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take +purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not +by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And, +I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God +save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace +thou wilt have none,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, none? + +FALSTAFF +No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to +prologue to an egg and butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. + +FALSTAFF +Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not +us that are squires of the night's body be called +thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's +foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the +moon; and let men say we be men of good government, +being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and +chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the +fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and +flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, +by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold +most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most +dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with +swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;' +now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder +and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my +hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? + +PRINCE HENRY +As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And +is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? + +FALSTAFF +How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and +thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a +buff jerkin? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a +time and oft. + +PRINCE HENRY +Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? + +FALSTAFF +No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; +and where it would not, I have used my credit. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent +that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet +wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when +thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is +with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do +not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. + +PRINCE HENRY +No; thou shalt. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have +the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. + +FALSTAFF +Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my +humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell +you. + +PRINCE HENRY +For obtaining of suits? + +FALSTAFF +Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman +hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy +as a gib cat or a lugged bear. + +PRINCE HENRY +Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. + +PRINCE HENRY +What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of +Moor-ditch? + +FALSTAFF +Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed +the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young +prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more +with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a +commodity of good names were to be bought. An old +lord of the council rated me the other day in the +street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet +he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and +yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the +streets, and no man regards it. + +FALSTAFF +O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able +to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon +me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew +thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man +should speak truly, little better than one of the +wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give +it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: +I'll be damned for never a king's son in +Christendom. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I +do not, call me villain and baffle me. + +PRINCE HENRY +I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying +to purse-taking. + +FALSTAFF +Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a +man to labour in his vocation. + +Enter POINS + +Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a +match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what +hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the +most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to +a true man. + +PRINCE HENRY +Good morrow, Ned. + +POINS +Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? +what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how +agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou +soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira +and a cold capon's leg? + +PRINCE HENRY +Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have +his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of +proverbs: he will give the devil his due. + +POINS +Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. + +PRINCE HENRY +Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. + +POINS +But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four +o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going +to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders +riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards +for you all; you have horses for yourselves: +Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke +supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it +as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff +your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry +at home and be hanged. + +FALSTAFF +Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, +I'll hang you for going. + +POINS +You will, chops? + +FALSTAFF +Hal, wilt thou make one? + +PRINCE HENRY +Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. + +FALSTAFF +There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good +fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood +royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. + +FALSTAFF +Why, that's well said. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. + +PRINCE HENRY +I care not. + +POINS +Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: +I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure +that he shall go. + +FALSTAFF +Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him +the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may +move and what he hears may be believed, that the +true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false +thief; for the poor abuses of the time want +countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! + +Exit Falstaff + +POINS +Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us +to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot +manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill +shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: +yourself and I will not be there; and when they +have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut +this head off from my shoulders. + +PRINCE HENRY +How shall we part with them in setting forth? + +POINS +Why, we will set forth before or after them, and +appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at +our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure +upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have +no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our +horses, by our habits and by every other +appointment, to be ourselves. + +POINS +Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them +in the wood; our vizards we will change after we +leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram +for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. + +POINS +Well, for two of them, I know them to be as +true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the +third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll +forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the +incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will +tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at +least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what +extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this +lies the jest. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things +necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; +there I'll sup. Farewell. + +POINS +Farewell, my lord. + +Exit Poins + +PRINCE HENRY +I know you all, and will awhile uphold +The unyoked humour of your idleness: +Yet herein will I imitate the sun, +Who doth permit the base contagious clouds +To smother up his beauty from the world, +That, when he please again to be himself, +Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, +By breaking through the foul and ugly mists +Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. +If all the year were playing holidays, +To sport would be as tedious as to work; +But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, +And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. +So, when this loose behavior I throw off +And pay the debt I never promised, +By how much better than my word I am, +By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; +And like bright metal on a sullen ground, +My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, +Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes +Than that which hath no foil to set it off. +I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; +Redeeming time when men think least I will. + +Exit + +SCENE III. London. The palace. + +Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others +KING HENRY IV +My blood hath been too cold and temperate, +Unapt to stir at these indignities, +And you have found me; for accordingly +You tread upon my patience: but be sure +I will from henceforth rather be myself, +Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition; +Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, +And therefore lost that title of respect +Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves +The scourge of greatness to be used on it; +And that same greatness too which our own hands +Have holp to make so portly. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord.-- + +KING HENRY IV +Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see +Danger and disobedience in thine eye: +O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, +And majesty might never yet endure +The moody frontier of a servant brow. +You have good leave to leave us: when we need +Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. + +Exit Worcester + +You were about to speak. + +To North + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, my good lord. +Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded, +Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, +Were, as he says, not with such strength denied +As is deliver'd to your majesty: +Either envy, therefore, or misprison +Is guilty of this fault and not my son. + +HOTSPUR +My liege, I did deny no prisoners. +But I remember, when the fight was done, +When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, +Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, +Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, +Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd +Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; +He was perfumed like a milliner; +And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held +A pouncet-box, which ever and anon +He gave his nose and took't away again; +Who therewith angry, when it next came there, +Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, +And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, +He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly, +To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse +Betwixt the wind and his nobility. +With many holiday and lady terms +He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded +My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. +I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, +To be so pester'd with a popinjay, +Out of my grief and my impatience, +Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, +He should or he should not; for he made me mad +To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet +And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman +Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!-- +And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth +Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; +And that it was great pity, so it was, +This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd +Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, +Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd +So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, +He would himself have been a soldier. +This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, +I answer'd indirectly, as I said; +And I beseech you, let not his report +Come current for an accusation +Betwixt my love and your high majesty. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, +Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said +To such a person and in such a place, +At such a time, with all the rest retold, +May reasonably die and never rise +To do him wrong or any way impeach +What then he said, so he unsay it now. + +KING HENRY IV +Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, +But with proviso and exception, +That we at our own charge shall ransom straight +His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; +Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd +The lives of those that he did lead to fight +Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower, +Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March +Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then, +Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? +Shall we but treason? and indent with fears, +When they have lost and forfeited themselves? +No, on the barren mountains let him starve; +For I shall never hold that man my friend +Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost +To ransom home revolted Mortimer. + +HOTSPUR +Revolted Mortimer! +He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, +But by the chance of war; to prove that true +Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, +Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took +When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, +In single opposition, hand to hand, +He did confound the best part of an hour +In changing hardiment with great Glendower: +Three times they breathed and three times did +they drink, +Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; +Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, +Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, +And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, +Bloodstained with these valiant combatants. +Never did base and rotten policy +Colour her working with such deadly wounds; +Nor could the noble Mortimer +Receive so many, and all willingly: +Then let not him be slander'd with revolt. + +KING HENRY IV +Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him; +He never did encounter with Glendower: +I tell thee, +He durst as well have met the devil alone +As Owen Glendower for an enemy. +Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth +Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer: +Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, +Or you shall hear in such a kind from me +As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, +We licence your departure with your son. +Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. + +Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train + +HOTSPUR +An if the devil come and roar for them, +I will not send them: I will after straight +And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, +Albeit I make a hazard of my head. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile: +Here comes your uncle. + +Re-enter WORCESTER + +HOTSPUR +Speak of Mortimer! +'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul +Want mercy, if I do not join with him: +Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, +And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, +But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer +As high in the air as this unthankful king, +As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Who struck this heat up after I was gone? + +HOTSPUR +He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; +And when I urged the ransom once again +Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, +And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, +Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd +By Richard that dead is the next of blood? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He was; I heard the proclamation: +And then it was when the unhappy king, +--Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth +Upon his Irish expedition; +From whence he intercepted did return +To be deposed and shortly murdered. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth +Live scandalized and foully spoken of. + +HOTSPUR +But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then +Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer +Heir to the crown? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He did; myself did hear it. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, +That wished him on the barren mountains starve. +But shall it be that you, that set the crown +Upon the head of this forgetful man +And for his sake wear the detested blot +Of murderous subornation, shall it be, +That you a world of curses undergo, +Being the agents, or base second means, +The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? +O, pardon me that I descend so low, +To show the line and the predicament +Wherein you range under this subtle king; +Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, +Or fill up chronicles in time to come, +That men of your nobility and power +Did gage them both in an unjust behalf, +As both of you--God pardon it!--have done, +To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, +An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? +And shall it in more shame be further spoken, +That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off +By him for whom these shames ye underwent? +No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem +Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves +Into the good thoughts of the world again, +Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt +Of this proud king, who studies day and night +To answer all the debt he owes to you +Even with the bloody payment of your deaths: +Therefore, I say-- + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Peace, cousin, say no more: +And now I will unclasp a secret book, +And to your quick-conceiving discontents +I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, +As full of peril and adventurous spirit +As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud +On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. + +HOTSPUR +If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: +Send danger from the east unto the west, +So honour cross it from the north to south, +And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs +To rouse a lion than to start a hare! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Imagination of some great exploit +Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. + +HOTSPUR +By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, +To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, +Or dive into the bottom of the deep, +Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, +And pluck up drowned honour by the locks; +So he that doth redeem her thence might wear +Without corrival, all her dignities: +But out upon this half-faced fellowship! + +EARL OF WORCESTER +He apprehends a world of figures here, +But not the form of what he should attend. +Good cousin, give me audience for a while. + +HOTSPUR +I cry you mercy. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Those same noble Scots +That are your prisoners,-- + +HOTSPUR +I'll keep them all; +By God, he shall not have a Scot of them; +No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: +I'll keep them, by this hand. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +You start away +And lend no ear unto my purposes. +Those prisoners you shall keep. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, I will; that's flat: +He said he would not ransom Mortimer; +Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; +But I will find him when he lies asleep, +And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!' +Nay, +I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak +Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him +To keep his anger still in motion. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Hear you, cousin; a word. + +HOTSPUR +All studies here I solemnly defy, +Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: +And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, +But that I think his father loves him not +And would be glad he met with some mischance, +I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you +When you are better temper'd to attend. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool +Art thou to break into this woman's mood, +Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! + +HOTSPUR +Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods, +Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear +Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. +In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?-- +A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire; +'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, +His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee +Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,-- +'Sblood!-- +When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +At Berkley castle. + +HOTSPUR +You say true: +Why, what a candy deal of courtesy +This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! +Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,' +And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;' +O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me! +Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Nay, if you have not, to it again; +We will stay your leisure. + +HOTSPUR +I have done, i' faith. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. +Deliver them up without their ransom straight, +And make the Douglas' son your only mean +For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons +Which I shall send you written, be assured, +Will easily be granted. You, my lord, + +To Northumberland + +Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, +Shall secretly into the bosom creep +Of that same noble prelate, well beloved, +The archbishop. + +HOTSPUR +Of York, is it not? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +True; who bears hard +His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. +I speak not this in estimation, +As what I think might be, but what I know +Is ruminated, plotted and set down, +And only stays but to behold the face +Of that occasion that shall bring it on. + +HOTSPUR +I smell it: upon my life, it will do well. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip. + +HOTSPUR +Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot; +And then the power of Scotland and of York, +To join with Mortimer, ha? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And so they shall. + +HOTSPUR +In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, +To save our heads by raising of a head; +For, bear ourselves as even as we can, +The king will always think him in our debt, +And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, +Till he hath found a time to pay us home: +And see already how he doth begin +To make us strangers to his looks of love. + +HOTSPUR +He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Cousin, farewell: no further go in this +Than I by letters shall direct your course. +When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, +I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; +Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, +As I will fashion it, shall happily meet, +To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, +Which now we hold at much uncertainty. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust. + +HOTSPUR +Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short +Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard. + +Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand +First Carrier +Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be +hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and +yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! + +Ostler +[Within] Anon, anon. + +First Carrier +I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks +in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out +of all cess. + +Enter another Carrier + +Second Carrier +Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that +is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this +house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. + +First Carrier +Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats +rose; it was the death of him. + +Second Carrier +I think this be the most villanous house in all +London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. + +First Carrier +Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king +christen could be better bit than I have been since +the first cock. + +Second Carrier +Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we +leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds +fleas like a loach. + +First Carrier +What, ostler! come away and be hanged! + +Second Carrier +I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, +to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. + +First Carrier +God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite +starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou +never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An +'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate +on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! +hast thou no faith in thee? + +Enter GADSHILL + +GADSHILL +Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? + +First Carrier +I think it be two o'clock. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding +in the stable. + +First Carrier +Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee, lend me thine. + +Second Carrier +Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth +he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? + +Second Carrier +Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant +thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the +gentleman: they will along with company, for they +have great charge. + +Exeunt carriers + +GADSHILL +What, ho! chamberlain! + +Chamberlain +[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse. + +GADSHILL +That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the +chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking +of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; +thou layest the plot how. + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that +I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the +wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with +him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his +company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one +that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. +They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; +they will away presently. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' +clerks, I'll give thee this neck. + +Chamberlain +No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the +hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas +as truly as a man of falsehood may. + +GADSHILL +What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, +I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old +Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no +starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou +dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are +content to do the profession some grace; that would, +if matters should be looked into, for their own +credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no +foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, +none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; +but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and +great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will +strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than +drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, +I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the +commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey +on her, for they ride up and down on her and make +her their boots. + +Chamberlain +What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold +out water in foul way? + +GADSHILL +She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We +steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt +of fern-seed, we walk invisible. + +Chamberlain +Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to +the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible. + +GADSHILL +Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our +purchase, as I am a true man. + +Chamberlain +Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. + +GADSHILL +Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the +ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, +you muddy knave. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +POINS +Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's +horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. + +PRINCE HENRY +Stand close. + +Enter FALSTAFF + +FALSTAFF +Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost +thou keep! + +FALSTAFF +Where's Poins, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him. + +FALSTAFF +I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the +rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know +not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier +further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt +not but to die a fair death for all this, if I +'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have +forsworn his company hourly any time this two and +twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the +rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me +medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it +could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! +Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! +I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere +not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to +leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that +ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven +ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; +and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: +a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! + +They whistle + +Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you +rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close +to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread +of travellers. + +FALSTAFF +Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? +'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot +again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. +What a plague mean ye to colt me thus? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. + +FALSTAFF +I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, +good king's son. + +PRINCE HENRY +Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler? + +FALSTAFF +Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent +garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I +have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy +tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest +is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it. + +Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO + +GADSHILL +Stand. + +FALSTAFF +So I do, against my will. + +POINS +O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, +what news? + +BARDOLPH +Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's +money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going +to the king's exchequer. + +FALSTAFF +You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern. + +GADSHILL +There's enough to make us all. + +FALSTAFF +To be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; +Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape +from your encounter, then they light on us. + +PETO +How many be there of them? + +GADSHILL +Some eight or ten. + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, will they not rob us? + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; +but yet no coward, Hal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, we leave that to the proof. + +POINS +Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: +when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. +Farewell, and stand fast. + +FALSTAFF +Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, where are our disguises? + +POINS +Here, hard by: stand close. + +Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +FALSTAFF +Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: +every man to his business. + +Enter the Travellers + +First Traveller +Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down +the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs. + +Thieves +Stand! + +Travellers +Jesus bless us! + +FALSTAFF +Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats: +ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they +hate us youth: down with them: fleece them. + +Travellers +O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! + +FALSTAFF +Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye +fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, +bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. +You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith. + +Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt + +Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +PRINCE HENRY +The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou +and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it +would be argument for a week, laughter for a month +and a good jest for ever. + +POINS +Stand close; I hear them coming. + +Enter the Thieves again + +FALSTAFF +Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse +before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two +arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's +no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck. + +PRINCE HENRY +Your money! + +POINS +Villains! + +As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them + +PRINCE HENRY +Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: +The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear +So strongly that they dare not meet each other; +Each takes his fellow for an officer. +Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, +And lards the lean earth as he walks along: +Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him. + +POINS +How the rogue roar'd! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth castle + +Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter +HOTSPUR +'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well +contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear +your house.' He could be contented: why is he not, +then? In respect of the love he bears our house: +he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than +he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's +certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to +drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this +nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you +have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and +your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so +great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say +unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and +you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, +our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our +friends true and constant: a good plot, good +friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, +very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is +this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the +general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by +this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. +Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord +Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? +is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all +their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the +next month? and are they not some of them set +forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an +infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity +of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay +open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself +and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of +skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! +let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set +forward to-night. + +Enter LADY PERCY + +How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. + +LADY PERCY +O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? +For what offence have I this fortnight been +A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? +Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee +Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? +Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, +And start so often when thou sit'st alone? +Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; +And given my treasures and my rights of thee +To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? +In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, +And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; +Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; +Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd +Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, +Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, +Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, +Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain, +And all the currents of a heady fight. +Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war +And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, +That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow +Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; +And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, +Such as we see when men restrain their breath +On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? +Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, +And I must know it, else he loves me not. + +HOTSPUR +What, ho! + +Enter Servant + +Is Gilliams with the packet gone? + +Servant +He is, my lord, an hour ago. + +HOTSPUR +Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? + +Servant +One horse, my lord, he brought even now. + +HOTSPUR +What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? + +Servant +It is, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +That roan shall by my throne. +Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! +Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. + +Exit Servant + +LADY PERCY +But hear you, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +What say'st thou, my lady? + +LADY PERCY +What is it carries you away? + +HOTSPUR +Why, my horse, my love, my horse. + +LADY PERCY +Out, you mad-headed ape! +A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen +As you are toss'd with. In faith, +I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. +I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir +About his title, and hath sent for you +To line his enterprise: but if you go,-- + +HOTSPUR +So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. + +LADY PERCY +Come, come, you paraquito, answer me +Directly unto this question that I ask: +In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, +An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. + +HOTSPUR +Away, +Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, +I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world +To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: +We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns, +And pass them current too. God's me, my horse! +What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou +have with me? + +LADY PERCY +Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? +Well, do not then; for since you love me not, +I will not love myself. Do you not love me? +Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. + +HOTSPUR +Come, wilt thou see me ride? +And when I am on horseback, I will swear +I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; +I must not have you henceforth question me +Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: +Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, +This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. +I know you wise, but yet no farther wise +Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are, +But yet a woman: and for secrecy, +No lady closer; for I well believe +Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; +And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. + +LADY PERCY +How! so far? + +HOTSPUR +Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: +Whither I go, thither shall you go too; +To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. +Will this content you, Kate? + +LADY PERCY +It must of force. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me +thy hand to laugh a little. + +POINS +Where hast been, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four +score hogsheads. I have sounded the very +base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother +to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by +their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. +They take it already upon their salvation, that +though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king +of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, +like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a +good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I +am king of England, I shall command all the good +lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing +scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they +cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I +am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, +that I can drink with any tinker in his own language +during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost +much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet +action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of +Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped +even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that +never spake other English in his life than 'Eight +shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with +this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint +of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to +drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, +do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my +puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do +thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale +to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and +I'll show thee a precedent. + +POINS +Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art perfect. + +POINS +Francis! + +Exit POINS + +Enter FRANCIS + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph. + +PRINCE HENRY +Come hither, Francis. + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +How long hast thou to serve, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking +of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant +as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it +a fair pair of heels and run from it? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in +England, I could find in my heart. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +How old art thou, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou +gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, I would it had been two! + +PRINCE HENRY +I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me +when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon. + +PRINCE HENRY +Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; +or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when +thou wilt. But, Francis! + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button, +not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, +smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,-- + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, who do you mean? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; +for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet +will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. + +FRANCIS +What, sir? + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call? + +Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go + +Enter Vintner + +Vintner +What, standest thou still, and hearest such a +calling? Look to the guests within. + +Exit Francis + +My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are +at the door: shall I let them in? + +PRINCE HENRY +Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. + +Exit Vintner + +Poins! + +Re-enter POINS + +POINS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at +the door: shall we be merry? + +POINS +As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what +cunning match have you made with this jest of the +drawer? come, what's the issue? + +PRINCE HENRY +I am now of all humours that have showed themselves +humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the +pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. + +Re-enter FRANCIS + +What's o'clock, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +Exit + +PRINCE HENRY +That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a +parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is +upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of +a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the +Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or +seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his +hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet +life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she, +'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan +horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some +fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I +prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and +that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his +wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. + +Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO; FRANCIS following with wine + +POINS +Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been? + +FALSTAFF +A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! +marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I +lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend +them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! +Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? + +He drinks + +PRINCE HENRY +Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? +pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale +of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is +nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: +yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime +in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; +die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be +not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a +shotten herring. There live not three good men +unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and +grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say. +I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any +thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still. + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, wool-sack! what mutter you? + +FALSTAFF +A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy +kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy +subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese, +I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales! + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there? + +POINS +'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the +Lord, I'll stab thee. + +FALSTAFF +I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call +thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I +could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight +enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your +back: call you that backing of your friends? A +plague upon such backing! give me them that will +face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I +drunk to-day. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou +drunkest last. + +FALSTAFF +All's one for that. + +He drinks + +A plague of all cowards, still say I. + +PRINCE HENRY +What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +What's the matter! there be four of us here have +ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where is it, Jack? where is it? + +FALSTAFF +Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon +poor four of us. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a hundred, man? + +FALSTAFF +I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a +dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by +miracle. I am eight times thrust through the +doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut +through and through; my sword hacked like a +hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since +I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all +cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or +less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness. + +PRINCE HENRY +Speak, sirs; how was it? + +GADSHILL +We four set upon some dozen-- + +FALSTAFF +Sixteen at least, my lord. + +GADSHILL +And bound them. + +PETO +No, no, they were not bound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I +am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. + +GADSHILL +As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us-- + +FALSTAFF +And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, fought you with them all? + +FALSTAFF +All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought +not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if +there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old +Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. + +PRINCE HENRY +Pray God you have not murdered some of them. + +FALSTAFF +Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two +of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues +in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell +thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou +knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my +point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, four? thou saidst but two even now. + +FALSTAFF +Four, Hal; I told thee four. + +POINS +Ay, ay, he said four. + +FALSTAFF +These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at +me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven +points in my target, thus. + +PRINCE HENRY +Seven? why, there were but four even now. + +FALSTAFF +In buckram? + +POINS +Ay, four, in buckram suits. + +FALSTAFF +Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear me, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine +in buckram that I told thee of-- + +PRINCE HENRY +So, two more already. + +FALSTAFF +Their points being broken,-- + +POINS +Down fell their hose. + +FALSTAFF +Began to give me ground: but I followed me close, +came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of +the eleven I paid. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! + +FALSTAFF +But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten +knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive +at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst +not see thy hand. + +PRINCE HENRY +These lies are like their father that begets them; +gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou +clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou +whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,-- + +FALSTAFF +What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth +the truth? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal +green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy +hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this? + +POINS +Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. + +FALSTAFF +What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the +strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would +not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on +compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as +blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon +compulsion, I. + +PRINCE HENRY +I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine +coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, +this huge hill of flesh,-- + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried +neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O +for breath to utter what is like thee! you +tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile +standing-tuck,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and +when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, +hear me speak but this. + +POINS +Mark, Jack. + +PRINCE HENRY +We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and +were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain +tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you +four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your +prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in +the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts +away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared +for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard +bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword +as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! +What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst +thou now find out to hide thee from this open and +apparent shame? + +POINS +Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now? + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. +Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the +heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? +why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but +beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true +prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a +coward on instinct. I shall think the better of +myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant +lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, +lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap +to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. +Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles +of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be +merry? shall we have a play extempore? + +PRINCE HENRY +Content; and the argument shall be thy running away. + +FALSTAFF +Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! + +Enter Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord the prince! + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to +me? + +Hostess +Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at +door would speak with you: he says he comes from +your father. + +PRINCE HENRY +Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and +send him back again to my mother. + +FALSTAFF +What manner of man is he? + +Hostess +An old man. + +FALSTAFF +What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall +I give him his answer? + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, do, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +'Faith, and I'll send him packing. + +Exit FALSTAFF + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you, +Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you +ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true +prince; no, fie! + +BARDOLPH +'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. + +PRINCE HENRY +'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's +sword so hacked? + +PETO +Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would +swear truth out of England but he would make you +believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like. + +BARDOLPH +Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to +make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments +with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I +did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed +to hear his monstrous devices. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years +ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since +thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and +sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what +instinct hadst thou for it? + +BARDOLPH +My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold +these exhalations? + +PRINCE HENRY +I do. + +BARDOLPH +What think you they portend? + +PRINCE HENRY +Hot livers and cold purses. + +BARDOLPH +Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. + +PRINCE HENRY +No, if rightly taken, halter. + +Re-enter FALSTAFF + +Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. +How now, my sweet creature of bombast! +How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? + +FALSTAFF +My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was +not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have +crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of +sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a +bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was +Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the +court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the +north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the +bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the +devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh +hook--what a plague call you him? + +POINS +O, Glendower. + +FALSTAFF +Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer, +and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of +Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill +perpendicular,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +He that rides at high speed and with his pistol +kills a sparrow flying. + +FALSTAFF +You have hit it. + +PRINCE HENRY +So did he never the sparrow. + +FALSTAFF +Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so +for running! + +FALSTAFF +O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, +and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: +Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's +beard is turned white with the news: you may buy +land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and +this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads +as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. + +FALSTAFF +By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we +shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, +art not thou horrible afeard? thou being +heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three +such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that +spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou +not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at +it? + +PRINCE HENRY +Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct. + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou +comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the +particulars of my life. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state, +this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden +sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich +crown for a pitiful bald crown! + +FALSTAFF +Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, +now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to +make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have +wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it +in King Cambyses' vein. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here is my leg. + +FALSTAFF +And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. + +Hostess +O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! + +FALSTAFF +Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. + +Hostess +O, the father, how he holds his countenance! + +FALSTAFF +For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen; +For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. + +Hostess +O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry +players as ever I see! + +FALSTAFF +Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. +Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy +time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though +the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster +it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the +sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have +partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, +but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a +foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant +me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; +why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall +the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat +blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall +the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a +question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, +which thou hast often heard of and it is known to +many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, +as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth +the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not +speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in +pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in +woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I +have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. + +PRINCE HENRY +What manner of man, an it like your majesty? + +FALSTAFF +A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a +cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble +carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, +by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I +remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man +should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, +I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be +known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, +peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that +Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell +me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast +thou been this month? + +PRINCE HENRY +Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, +and I'll play my father. + +FALSTAFF +Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so +majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by +the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here I am set. + +FALSTAFF +And here I stand: judge, my masters. + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, Harry, whence come you? + +FALSTAFF +My noble lord, from Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle +ye for a young prince, i' faith. + +PRINCE HENRY +Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look +on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: +there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an +old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why +dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that +bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel +of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed +cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with +the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that +grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in +years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and +drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a +capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? +wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, +but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? + +FALSTAFF +I would your grace would take me with you: whom +means your grace? + +PRINCE HENRY +That villanous abominable misleader of youth, +Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, the man I know. + +PRINCE HENRY +I know thou dost. + +FALSTAFF +But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, +were to say more than I know. That he is old, the +more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but +that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster, +that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, +God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a +sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if +to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine +are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, +banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack +Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, +valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, +being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him +thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's +company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do, I will. + +A knocking heard + +Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH + +Re-enter BARDOLPH, running + +BARDOLPH +O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most +monstrous watch is at the door. + +FALSTAFF +Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to +say in the behalf of that Falstaff. + +Re-enter the Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord, my lord! + +PRINCE HENRY +Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: +what's the matter? + +Hostess +The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they +are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of +gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, +without seeming so. + +PRINCE HENRY +And thou a natural coward, without instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, +so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart +as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! +I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. + +PRINCE HENRY +Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up +above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good +conscience. + +FALSTAFF +Both which I have had: but their date is out, and +therefore I'll hide me. + +PRINCE HENRY +Call in the sheriff. + +Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO + +Enter Sheriff and the Carrier + +Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me? + +Sheriff +First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry +Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. + +PRINCE HENRY +What men? + +Sheriff +One of them is well known, my gracious lord, +A gross fat man. + +Carrier +As fat as butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +The man, I do assure you, is not here; +For I myself at this time have employ'd him. +And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee +That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time, +Send him to answer thee, or any man, +For any thing he shall be charged withal: +And so let me entreat you leave the house. + +Sheriff +I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen +Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. + +PRINCE HENRY +It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, +He shall be answerable; and so farewell. + +Sheriff +Good night, my noble lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +I think it is good morrow, is it not? + +Sheriff +Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. + +Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier + +PRINCE HENRY +This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, +call him forth. + +PETO +Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and +snorting like a horse. + +PRINCE HENRY +Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets. + +He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers + +What hast thou found? + +PETO +Nothing but papers, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Let's see what they be: read them. + +PETO +[Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d. +Item, Sauce,. . . 4d. +Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. +Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. +Item, Bread, ob. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to +this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, +keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there +let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the +morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place +shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a +charge of foot; and I know his death will be a +march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid +back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in +the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto. + +Exeunt + +PETO +Good morrow, good my lord. + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. + +Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER +MORTIMER +These promises are fair, the parties sure, +And our induction full of prosperous hope. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, +Will you sit down? +And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it! +I have forgot the map. + +GLENDOWER +No, here it is. +Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur, +For by that name as oft as Lancaster +Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with +A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven. + +HOTSPUR +And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. + +GLENDOWER +I cannot blame him: at my nativity +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +Of burning cressets; and at my birth +The frame and huge foundation of the earth +Shaked like a coward. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so it would have done at the same season, if +your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself +had never been born. + +GLENDOWER +I say the earth did shake when I was born. + +HOTSPUR +And I say the earth was not of my mind, +If you suppose as fearing you it shook. + +GLENDOWER +The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. + +HOTSPUR +O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, +And not in fear of your nativity. +Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth +In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth +Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd +By the imprisoning of unruly wind +Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, +Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down +Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth +Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, +In passion shook. + +GLENDOWER +Cousin, of many men +I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave +To tell you once again that at my birth +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds +Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. +These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; +And all the courses of my life do show +I am not in the roll of common men. +Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea +That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, +Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? +And bring him out that is but woman's son +Can trace me in the tedious ways of art +And hold me pace in deep experiments. + +HOTSPUR +I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. +I'll to dinner. + +MORTIMER +Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. + +GLENDOWER +I can call spirits from the vasty deep. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so can I, or so can any man; +But will they come when you do call for them? + +GLENDOWER +Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command +The devil. + +HOTSPUR +And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil +By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil. +If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, +And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. +O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil! + +MORTIMER +Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. + +GLENDOWER +Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head +Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye +And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him +Bootless home and weather-beaten back. + +HOTSPUR +Home without boots, and in foul weather too! +How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? + +GLENDOWER +Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right +According to our threefold order ta'en? + +MORTIMER +The archdeacon hath divided it +Into three limits very equally: +England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, +By south and east is to my part assign'd: +All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, +And all the fertile land within that bound, +To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you +The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. +And our indentures tripartite are drawn; +Which being sealed interchangeably, +A business that this night may execute, +To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I +And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth +To meet your father and the Scottish power, +As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. +My father Glendower is not ready yet, +Not shall we need his help these fourteen days. +Within that space you may have drawn together +Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen. + +GLENDOWER +A shorter time shall send me to you, lords: +And in my conduct shall your ladies come; +From whom you now must steal and take no leave, +For there will be a world of water shed +Upon the parting of your wives and you. + +HOTSPUR +Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, +In quantity equals not one of yours: +See how this river comes me cranking in, +And cuts me from the best of all my land +A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. +I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; +And here the smug and silver Trent shall run +In a new channel, fair and evenly; +It shall not wind with such a deep indent, +To rob me of so rich a bottom here. + +GLENDOWER +Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth. + +MORTIMER +Yea, but +Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up +With like advantage on the other side; +Gelding the opposed continent as much +As on the other side it takes from you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Yea, but a little charge will trench him here +And on this north side win this cape of land; +And then he runs straight and even. + +HOTSPUR +I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. + +GLENDOWER +I'll not have it alter'd. + +HOTSPUR +Will not you? + +GLENDOWER +No, nor you shall not. + +HOTSPUR +Who shall say me nay? + +GLENDOWER +Why, that will I. + +HOTSPUR +Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +I can speak English, lord, as well as you; +For I was train'd up in the English court; +Where, being but young, I framed to the harp +Many an English ditty lovely well +And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, +A virtue that was never seen in you. + +HOTSPUR +Marry, +And I am glad of it with all my heart: +I had rather be a kitten and cry mew +Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers; +I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, +Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree; +And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, +Nothing so much as mincing poetry: +'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. + +GLENDOWER +Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. + +HOTSPUR +I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land +To any well-deserving friend; +But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, +I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. +Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? + +GLENDOWER +The moon shines fair; you may away by night: +I'll haste the writer and withal +Break with your wives of your departure hence: +I am afraid my daughter will run mad, +So much she doteth on her Mortimer. + +Exit GLENDOWER + +MORTIMER +Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! + +HOTSPUR +I cannot choose: sometime he angers me +With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant, +Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, +And of a dragon and a finless fish, +A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, +A couching lion and a ramping cat, +And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff +As puts me from my faith. I tell you what; +He held me last night at least nine hours +In reckoning up the several devils' names +That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,' +But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious +As a tired horse, a railing wife; +Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live +With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, +Than feed on cates and have him talk to me +In any summer-house in Christendom. + +MORTIMER +In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, +Exceedingly well read, and profited +In strange concealments, valiant as a lion +And as wondrous affable and as bountiful +As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? +He holds your temper in a high respect +And curbs himself even of his natural scope +When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does: +I warrant you, that man is not alive +Might so have tempted him as you have done, +Without the taste of danger and reproof: +But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; +And since your coming hither have done enough +To put him quite beside his patience. +You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: +Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,-- +And that's the dearest grace it renders you,-- +Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, +Defect of manners, want of government, +Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain: +The least of which haunting a nobleman +Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain +Upon the beauty of all parts besides, +Beguiling them of commendation. + +HOTSPUR +Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed! +Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. + +Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies + +MORTIMER +This is the deadly spite that angers me; +My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; +She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. + +MORTIMER +Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy +Shall follow in your conduct speedily. + +Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same + +GLENDOWER +She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry, +one that no persuasion can do good upon. + +The lady speaks in Welsh + +MORTIMER +I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh +Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens +I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, +In such a parley should I answer thee. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +I understand thy kisses and thou mine, +And that's a feeling disputation: +But I will never be a truant, love, +Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue +Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, +Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, +With ravishing division, to her lute. + +GLENDOWER +Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +MORTIMER +O, I am ignorance itself in this! + +GLENDOWER +She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down +And rest your gentle head upon her lap, +And she will sing the song that pleaseth you +And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep. +Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, +Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep +As is the difference betwixt day and night +The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team +Begins his golden progress in the east. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: +By that time will our book, I think, be drawn + +GLENDOWER +Do so; +And those musicians that shall play to you +Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence, +And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, +quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. + +LADY PERCY +Go, ye giddy goose. + +The music plays + +HOTSPUR +Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; +And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. +By'r lady, he is a good musician. + +LADY PERCY +Then should you be nothing but musical for you are +altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, +and hear the lady sing in Welsh. + +HOTSPUR +I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. + +LADY PERCY +Wouldst thou have thy head broken? + +HOTSPUR +No. + +LADY PERCY +Then be still. + +HOTSPUR +Neither;'tis a woman's fault. + +LADY PERCY +Now God help thee! + +HOTSPUR +To the Welsh lady's bed. + +LADY PERCY +What's that? + +HOTSPUR +Peace! she sings. + +Here the lady sings a Welsh song + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. + +LADY PERCY +Not mine, in good sooth. + +HOTSPUR +Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a +comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and +'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and +'as sure as day,' +And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, +As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. +Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, +A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,' +And such protest of pepper-gingerbread, +To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. +Come, sing. + +LADY PERCY +I will not sing. + +HOTSPUR +'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast +teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away +within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. + +Exit + +GLENDOWER +Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow +As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. +By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal, +And then to horse immediately. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others +KING HENRY IV +Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I +Must have some private conference; but be near at hand, +For we shall presently have need of you. + +Exeunt Lords + +I know not whether God will have it so, +For some displeasing service I have done, +That, in his secret doom, out of my blood +He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; +But thou dost in thy passages of life +Make me believe that thou art only mark'd +For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven +To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, +Could such inordinate and low desires, +Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, +Such barren pleasures, rude society, +As thou art match'd withal and grafted to, +Accompany the greatness of thy blood +And hold their level with thy princely heart? + +PRINCE HENRY +So please your majesty, I would I could +Quit all offences with as clear excuse +As well as I am doubtless I can purge +Myself of many I am charged withal: +Yet such extenuation let me beg, +As, in reproof of many tales devised, +which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, +By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers, +I may, for some things true, wherein my youth +Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, +Find pardon on my true submission. + +KING HENRY IV +God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, +At thy affections, which do hold a wing +Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. +Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost. +Which by thy younger brother is supplied, +And art almost an alien to the hearts +Of all the court and princes of my blood: +The hope and expectation of thy time +Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man +Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. +Had I so lavish of my presence been, +So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, +So stale and cheap to vulgar company, +Opinion, that did help me to the crown, +Had still kept loyal to possession +And left me in reputeless banishment, +A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. +By being seldom seen, I could not stir +But like a comet I was wonder'd at; +That men would tell their children 'This is he;' +Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?' +And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, +And dress'd myself in such humility +That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, +Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, +Even in the presence of the crowned king. +Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; +My presence, like a robe pontifical, +Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, +Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast +And won by rareness such solemnity. +The skipping king, he ambled up and down +With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, +Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, +Mingled his royalty with capering fools, +Had his great name profaned with their scorns +And gave his countenance, against his name, +To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push +Of every beardless vain comparative, +Grew a companion to the common streets, +Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; +That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, +They surfeited with honey and began +To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little +More than a little is by much too much. +So when he had occasion to be seen, +He was but as the cuckoo is in June, +Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes +As, sick and blunted with community, +Afford no extraordinary gaze, +Such as is bent on sun-like majesty +When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; +But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down, +Slept in his face and render'd such aspect +As cloudy men use to their adversaries, +Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full. +And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; +For thou has lost thy princely privilege +With vile participation: not an eye +But is a-weary of thy common sight, +Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; +Which now doth that I would not have it do, +Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. + +PRINCE HENRY +I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, +Be more myself. + +KING HENRY IV +For all the world +As thou art to this hour was Richard then +When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh, +And even as I was then is Percy now. +Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot, +He hath more worthy interest to the state +Than thou the shadow of succession; +For of no right, nor colour like to right, +He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, +Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, +And, being no more in debt to years than thou, +Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on +To bloody battles and to bruising arms. +What never-dying honour hath he got +Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, +Whose hot incursions and great name in arms +Holds from all soldiers chief majority +And military title capital +Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: +Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, +This infant warrior, in his enterprises +Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, +Enlarged him and made a friend of him, +To fill the mouth of deep defiance up +And shake the peace and safety of our throne. +And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, +The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, +Capitulate against us and are up. +But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? +Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, +Which art my near'st and dearest enemy? +Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, +Base inclination and the start of spleen +To fight against me under Percy's pay, +To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, +To show how much thou art degenerate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do not think so; you shall not find it so: +And God forgive them that so much have sway'd +Your majesty's good thoughts away from me! +I will redeem all this on Percy's head +And in the closing of some glorious day +Be bold to tell you that I am your son; +When I will wear a garment all of blood +And stain my favours in a bloody mask, +Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: +And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, +That this same child of honour and renown, +This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, +And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. +For every honour sitting on his helm, +Would they were multitudes, and on my head +My shames redoubled! for the time will come, +That I shall make this northern youth exchange +His glorious deeds for my indignities. +Percy is but my factor, good my lord, +To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; +And I will call him to so strict account, +That he shall render every glory up, +Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, +Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. +This, in the name of God, I promise here: +The which if He be pleased I shall perform, +I do beseech your majesty may salve +The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: +If not, the end of life cancels all bands; +And I will die a hundred thousand deaths +Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. + +KING HENRY IV +A hundred thousand rebels die in this: +Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. + +Enter BLUNT + +How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +So hath the business that I come to speak of. +Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word +That Douglas and the English rebels met +The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury +A mighty and a fearful head they are, +If promises be kept on every hand, +As ever offer'd foul play in the state. + +KING HENRY IV +The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day; +With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; +For this advertisement is five days old: +On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; +On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting +Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march +Through Gloucestershire; by which account, +Our business valued, some twelve days hence +Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. +Our hands are full of business: let's away; +Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. + +Exeunt + +Scene III +Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern. + +Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last +action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my +skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose +gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, +I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some +liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I +shall have no strength to repent. An I have not +forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I +am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a +church! Company, villanous company, hath been the +spoil of me. + +BARDOLPH +Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. + +FALSTAFF +Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make +me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman +need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not +above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once +in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I +borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in +good compass: and now I live out of all order, out +of all compass. + +BARDOLPH +Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs +be out of all compass, out of all reasonable +compass, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF +Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: +thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in +the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the +Knight of the Burning Lamp. + +BARDOLPH +Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. + +FALSTAFF +No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many +a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I +never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and +Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his +robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way +given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath +should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but +thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but +for the light in thy face, the son of utter +darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the +night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou +hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, +there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a +perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! +Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and +torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt +tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast +drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap +at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have +maintained that salamander of yours with fire any +time this two and thirty years; God reward me for +it! + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not +able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more +than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only +witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other +men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that +hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the +prince put thee into my service for any other reason +than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. +Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn +in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never +manned with an agate till now: but I will inset you +neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and +send you back again to your master, for a jewel,-- +the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is +not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in +the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his +cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is +a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis +not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still at a +face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence +out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had +writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He +may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, +I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about +the satin for my short cloak and my slops? + +Page +He said, sir, you should procure him better +assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his +band and yours; he liked not the security. + +FALSTAFF +Let him be damned, like the glutton! pray God his +tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally +yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, +and then stand upon security! The whoreson +smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and +bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is +through with them in honest taking up, then they +must stand upon security. I had as lief they would +put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with +security. I looked a' should have sent me two and +twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he +sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; +for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness +of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he +see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. +Where's Bardolph? + +Page +He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. + +FALSTAFF +I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in +Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the +stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant + +Page +Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the +Prince for striking him about Bardolph. + +FALSTAFF +Wait, close; I will not see him. +Lord Chief-Justice What's he that goes there? + +Servant +Falstaff, an't please your lordship. +Lord Chief-Justice He that was in question for the robbery? + +Servant +He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at +Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some +charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. +Lord Chief-Justice What, to York? Call him back again. + +Servant +Sir John Falstaff! + +FALSTAFF +Boy, tell him I am deaf. + +Page +You must speak louder; my master is deaf. +Lord Chief-Justice I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. +Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. + +Servant +Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not +wars? is there not employment? doth not the king +lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? +Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it +is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, +were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell +how to make it. + +Servant +You mistake me, sir. + +FALSTAFF +Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting +my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied +in my throat, if I had said so. + +Servant +I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and our +soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, +you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other +than an honest man. + +FALSTAFF +I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that +which grows to me! if thou gettest any leave of me, +hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be +hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt! + +Servant +Sir, my lord would speak with you. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. + +FALSTAFF +My good lord! God give your lordship good time of +day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard +say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship +goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not +clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in +you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I must +humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care +of your health. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to +Shrewsbury. + +FALSTAFF +An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is +returned with some discomfort from Wales. +Lord Chief-Justice I talk not of his majesty: you would not come when +I sent for you. + +FALSTAFF +And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into +this same whoreson apoplexy. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with +you. + +FALSTAFF +This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, +an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the +blood, a whoreson tingling. +Lord Chief-Justice What tell you me of it? be it as it is. + +FALSTAFF +It hath its original from much grief, from study and +perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of +his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness. +Lord Chief-Justice I think you are fallen into the disease; for you +hear not what I say to you. + +FALSTAFF +Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please +you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady +of not marking, that I am troubled withal. +Lord Chief-Justice To punish you by the heels would amend the +attention of your ears; and I care not if I do +become your physician. + +FALSTAFF +I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: +your lordship may minister the potion of +imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how +should I be your patient to follow your +prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a +scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. +Lord Chief-Justice I sent for you, when there were matters against you +for your life, to come speak with me. + +FALSTAFF +As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the +laws of this land-service, I did not come. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy. + +FALSTAFF +He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. +Lord Chief-Justice Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. + +FALSTAFF +I would it were otherwise; I would my means were +greater, and my waist slenderer. +Lord Chief-Justice You have misled the youthful prince. + +FALSTAFF +The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow +with the great belly, and he my dog. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your +day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded +over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: you may +thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting +that action. + +FALSTAFF +My lord? +Lord Chief-Justice But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a +sleeping wolf. + +FALSTAFF +To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. +Lord Chief-Justice What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt +out. + +FALSTAFF +A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow: if I did say +of wax, my growth would approve the truth. +Lord Chief-Justice There is not a white hair on your face but should +have his effect of gravity. + +FALSTAFF +His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. +Lord Chief-Justice You follow the young prince up and down, like his +ill angel. + +FALSTAFF +Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but I hope +he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: +and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go: I +cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these +costermonger times that true valour is turned +bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath +his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the +other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of +this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. +You that are old consider not the capacities of us +that are young; you do measure the heat of our +livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we +that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, +are wags too. +Lord Chief-Justice Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, +that are written down old with all the characters of +age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a +yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an +increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your +wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and +every part about you blasted with antiquity? and +will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the +afternoon, with a white head and something a round +belly. For my voice, I have lost it with halloing +and singing of anthems. To approve my youth +further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in +judgment and understanding; and he that will caper +with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the +money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that +the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, +and you took it like a sensible lord. I have +chequed him for it, and the young lion repents; +marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk +and old sack. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God send the prince a better companion! + +FALSTAFF +God send the companion a better prince! I cannot +rid my hands of him. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry: I +hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster +against the Archbishop and the Earl of +Northumberland. + +FALSTAFF +Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look +you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, +that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the +Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean +not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, +and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I +might never spit white again. There is not a +dangerous action can peep out his head but I am +thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but it +was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if +they have a good thing, to make it too common. If +ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give +me rest. I would to God my name were not so +terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be +eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to +nothing with perpetual motion. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your +expedition! + +FALSTAFF +Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to +furnish me forth? +Lord Chief-Justice Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to +bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my +cousin Westmoreland. + +Exeunt Chief-Justice and Servant + +FALSTAFF +If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man +can no more separate age and covetousness than a' +can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout +galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and +so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! + +Page +Sir? + +FALSTAFF +What money is in my purse? + +Page +Seven groats and two pence. + +FALSTAFF +I can get no remedy against this consumption of the +purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, +but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter +to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this +to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old +Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry +since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. +About it: you know where to find me. + +Exit Page + +A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for +the one or the other plays the rogue with my great +toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars +for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more +reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing: +I will turn diseases to commodity. + +Exit + +SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Thus have you heard our cause and known our means; +And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, +Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes: +And first, lord marshal, what say you to it? + +MOWBRAY +I well allow the occasion of our arms; +But gladly would be better satisfied +How in our means we should advance ourselves +To look with forehead bold and big enough +Upon the power and puissance of the king. + +HASTINGS +Our present musters grow upon the file +To five and twenty thousand men of choice; +And our supplies live largely in the hope +Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns +With an incensed fire of injuries. + +LORD BARDOLPH +The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus; +Whether our present five and twenty thousand +May hold up head without Northumberland? + +HASTINGS +With him, we may. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yea, marry, there's the point: +But if without him we be thought too feeble, +My judgment is, we should not step too far +Till we had his assistance by the hand; +For in a theme so bloody-faced as this +Conjecture, expectation, and surmise +Of aids incertain should not be admitted. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed +It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. + +LORD BARDOLPH +It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, +Eating the air on promise of supply, +Flattering himself in project of a power +Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts: +And so, with great imagination +Proper to madmen, led his powers to death +And winking leap'd into destruction. + +HASTINGS +But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt +To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yes, if this present quality of war, +Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot +Lives so in hope as in an early spring +We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit, +Hope gives not so much warrant as despair +That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, +We first survey the plot, then draw the model; +And when we see the figure of the house, +Then must we rate the cost of the erection; +Which if we find outweighs ability, +What do we then but draw anew the model +In fewer offices, or at last desist +To build at all? Much more, in this great work, +Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down +And set another up, should we survey +The plot of situation and the model, +Consent upon a sure foundation, +Question surveyors, know our own estate, +How able such a work to undergo, +To weigh against his opposite; or else +We fortify in paper and in figures, +Using the names of men instead of men: +Like one that draws the model of a house +Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, +Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost +A naked subject to the weeping clouds +And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. + +HASTINGS +Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, +Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd +The utmost man of expectation, +I think we are a body strong enough, +Even as we are, to equal with the king. + +LORD BARDOLPH +What, is the king but five and twenty thousand? + +HASTINGS +To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. +For his divisions, as the times do brawl, +Are in three heads: one power against the French, +And one against Glendower; perforce a third +Must take up us: so is the unfirm king +In three divided; and his coffers sound +With hollow poverty and emptiness. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +That he should draw his several strengths together +And come against us in full puissance, +Need not be dreaded. + +HASTINGS +If he should do so, +He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh +Baying him at the heels: never fear that. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who is it like should lead his forces hither? + +HASTINGS +The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; +Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: +But who is substituted 'gainst the French, +I have no certain notice. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Let us on, +And publish the occasion of our arms. +The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; +Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: +An habitation giddy and unsure +Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. +O thou fond many, with what loud applause +Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, +Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! +And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, +Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, +That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. +So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge +Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; +And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, +And howl'st to find it. What trust is in +these times? +They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, +Are now become enamour'd on his grave: +Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head +When through proud London he came sighing on +After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, +Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again, +And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accursed! +Past and to come seems best; things present worst. + +MOWBRAY +Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? + +HASTINGS +We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Master Fang, have you entered the action? + +FANG +It is entered. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a' +stand to 't? + +FANG +Sirrah, where's Snare? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. + +SNARE +Here, here. + +FANG +Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. + +SNARE +It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in +mine own house, and that most beastly: in good +faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his +weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will +spare neither man, woman, nor child. + +FANG +If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. + +FANG +An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an +infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, +hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not +'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving +your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to +dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to +Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my +exion is entered and my case so openly known to the +world, let him be brought in to his answer. A +hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to +bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and +have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed +off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame +to be thought on. There is no honesty in such +dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a +beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he +comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, +with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master +Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices. + +Enter FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter? + +FANG +Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. + +FALSTAFF +Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the +villain's head: throw the quean in the channel. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the +channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly +rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle +villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the +king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a +honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. + +FALSTAFF +Keep them off, Bardolph. + +FANG +A rescue! a rescue! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't +thou? Thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, +thou hemp-seed! + +FALSTAFF +Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You +fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men + +Lord Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. +Lord Chief-Justice How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here? +Doth this become your place, your time and business? +You should have been well on your way to York. +Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am +a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. +Lord Chief-Justice For what sum? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, +all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; +he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of +his: but I will have some of it out again, or I +will ride thee o' nights like the mare. + +FALSTAFF +I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have +any vantage of ground to get up. +Lord Chief-Justice How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good +temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? +Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so +rough a course to come by her own? + +FALSTAFF +What is the gross sum that I owe thee? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the +money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a +parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, +at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon +Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke +thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of +Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was +washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady +thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife +Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me +gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of +vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; +whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I +told thee they were ill for a green wound? And +didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, +desire me to be no more so familiarity with such +poor people; saying that ere long they should call +me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me +fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy +book-oath: deny it, if thou canst. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up +and down the town that the eldest son is like you: +she hath been in good case, and the truth is, +poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish +officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your +manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It +is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words +that come with such more than impudent sauciness +from you, can thrust me from a level consideration: +you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the +easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her +serve your uses both in purse and in person. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, in truth, my lord. +Lord Chief-Justice Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and +unpay the villany you have done her: the one you +may do with sterling money, and the other with +current repentance. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without +reply. You call honourable boldness impudent +sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say +nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble +duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say +to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, +being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs. +Lord Chief-Justice You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer +in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this +poor woman. + +FALSTAFF +Come hither, hostess. + +Enter GOWER + +Lord Chief-Justice Now, Master Gower, what news? + +GOWER +The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales +Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Faith, you said so before. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain +to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my +dining-chambers. + +FALSTAFF +Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy +walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of +the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, +is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these +fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou +canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's +not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, +and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in +this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I +know thou wast set on to this. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' +faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, +la! + +FALSTAFF +Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a +fool still. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I +hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? + +FALSTAFF +Will I live? + +To BARDOLPH + +Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? + +FALSTAFF +No more words; let's have her. + +Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers and Boy + +Lord Chief-Justice I have heard better news. + +FALSTAFF +What's the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Where lay the king last night? + +GOWER +At Basingstoke, my lord. + +FALSTAFF +I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Come all his forces back? + +GOWER +No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, +Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, +Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. + +FALSTAFF +Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? +Lord Chief-Justice You shall have letters of me presently: +Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. + +FALSTAFF +My lord! +Lord Chief-Justice What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? + +GOWER +I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, +good Sir John. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to +take soldiers up in counties as you go. + +FALSTAFF +Will you sup with me, Master Gower? +Lord Chief-Justice What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool +that taught them me. This is the right fencing +grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. +Lord Chief-Justice Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. Another street. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Before God, I am exceeding weary. + +POINS +Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not +have attached one of so high blood. + +PRINCE HENRY +Faith, it does me; though it discolours the +complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth +it not show vilely in me to desire small beer? + +POINS +Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as +to remember so weak a composition. + +PRINCE HENRY +Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, +by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, +small beer. But, indeed, these humble +considerations make me out of love with my +greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember +thy name! or to know thy face to-morrow! or to +take note how many pair of silk stockings thou +hast, viz. these, and those that were thy +peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy +shirts, as, one for superfluity, and another for +use! But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better +than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when +thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done +a great while, because the rest of thy low +countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: +and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins +of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the +midwives say the children are not in the fault; +whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are +mightily strengthened. + +POINS +How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, +you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good +young princes would do so, their fathers being so +sick as yours at this time is? + +PRINCE HENRY +Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? + +POINS +Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing. + +PRINCE HENRY +It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. + +POINS +Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you +will tell. + +PRINCE HENRY +Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be +sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell +thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a +better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad +indeed too. + +POINS +Very hardly upon such a subject. + +PRINCE HENRY +By this hand thou thinkest me as far in the devil's +book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and +persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell +thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so +sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art +hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. + +POINS +The reason? + +PRINCE HENRY +What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? + +POINS +I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. + +PRINCE HENRY +It would be every man's thought; and thou art a +blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never +a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way +better than thine: every man would think me an +hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most +worshipful thought to think so? + +POINS +Why, because you have been so lewd and so much +engraffed to Falstaff. + +PRINCE HENRY +And to thee. + +POINS +By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it +with my own ears: the worst that they can say of +me is that I am a second brother and that I am a +proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I +confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph. + +Enter BARDOLPH and Page + +PRINCE HENRY +And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from +me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not +transformed him ape. + +BARDOLPH +God save your grace! + +PRINCE HENRY +And yours, most noble Bardolph! + +BARDOLPH +Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you +be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a +maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a +matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead? + +Page +A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red +lattice, and I could discern no part of his face +from the window: at last I spied his eyes, and +methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's +new petticoat and so peeped through. + +PRINCE HENRY +Has not the boy profited? + +BARDOLPH +Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! + +Page +Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away! + +PRINCE HENRY +Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? + +Page +Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was delivered +of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. + +PRINCE HENRY +A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, +boy. + +POINS +O, that this good blossom could be kept from +cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. + +BARDOLPH +An you do not make him hanged among you, the +gallows shall have wrong. + +PRINCE HENRY +And how doth thy master, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH +Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to +town: there's a letter for you. + +POINS +Delivered with good respect. And how doth the +martlemas, your master? + +BARDOLPH +In bodily health, sir. + +POINS +Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but +that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies +not. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my +dog; and he holds his place; for look you how be writes. + +POINS +[Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight,'--every man must +know that, as oft as he has occasion to name +himself: even like those that are kin to the king; +for they never prick their finger but they say, +'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How +comes that?' says he, that takes upon him not to +conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's +cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.' + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it +from Japhet. But to the letter. + +POINS +[Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of +the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of +Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace! + +POINS +[Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in +brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath, +short-winded. 'I commend me to thee, I commend +thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with +Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he +swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent +at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell. +Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to +say, as thou usest him, JACK FALSTAFF with my +familiars, JOHN with my brothers and sisters, +and SIR JOHN with all Europe.' +My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it. + +PRINCE HENRY +That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do +you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? + +POINS +God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the +spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. +Is your master here in London? + +BARDOLPH +Yea, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank? + +BARDOLPH +At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +What company? + +Page +Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sup any women with him? + +Page +None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and +Mistress Doll Tearsheet. + +PRINCE HENRY +What pagan may that be? + +Page +A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's. + +PRINCE HENRY +Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town +bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? + +POINS +I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your +master that I am yet come to town: there's for +your silence. + +BARDOLPH +I have no tongue, sir. + +Page +And for mine, sir, I will govern it. + +PRINCE HENRY +Fare you well; go. + +Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page + +This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. + +POINS +I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint +Alban's and London. + +PRINCE HENRY +How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night +in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? + +POINS +Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait +upon him at his table as drawers. + +PRINCE HENRY +From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was +Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low +transformation! that shall be mine; for in every +thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. +Follow me, Ned. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY +NORTHUMBERLAND +I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, +Give even way unto my rough affairs: +Put not you on the visage of the times +And be like them to Percy troublesome. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I have given over, I will speak no more: +Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; +And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. + +LADY PERCY +O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! +The time was, father, that you broke your word, +When you were more endeared to it than now; +When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, +Threw many a northward look to see his father +Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. +Who then persuaded you to stay at home? +There were two honours lost, yours and your son's. +For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! +For his, it stuck upon him as the sun +In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light +Did all the chivalry of England move +To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass +Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves: +He had no legs that practised not his gait; +And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, +Became the accents of the valiant; +For those that could speak low and tardily +Would turn their own perfection to abuse, +To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait, +In diet, in affections of delight, +In military rules, humours of blood, +He was the mark and glass, copy and book, +That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him! +O miracle of men! him did you leave, +Second to none, unseconded by you, +To look upon the hideous god of war +In disadvantage; to abide a field +Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name +Did seem defensible: so you left him. +Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong +To hold your honour more precise and nice +With others than with him! let them alone: +The marshal and the archbishop are strong: +Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, +To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, +Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew your heart, +Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me +With new lamenting ancient oversights. +But I must go and meet with danger there, +Or it will seek me in another place +And find me worse provided. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, fly to Scotland, +Till that the nobles and the armed commons +Have of their puissance made a little taste. + +LADY PERCY +If they get ground and vantage of the king, +Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, +To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, +First let them try themselves. So did your son; +He was so suffer'd: so came I a widow; +And never shall have length of life enough +To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, +That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, +For recordation to my noble husband. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind +As with the tide swell'd up unto his height, +That makes a still-stand, running neither way: +Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, +But many thousand reasons hold me back. +I will resolve for Scotland: there am I, +Till time and vantage crave my company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap. + +Enter two Drawers +First Drawer +What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? +thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john. + +Second Drawer +Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish +of apple-johns before him, and told him there were +five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said +'I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, +old, withered knights.' It angered him to the +heart: but he hath forgot that. + +First Drawer +Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if +thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress +Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the +room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight. + +Second Drawer +Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins +anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and +aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph +hath brought word. + +First Drawer +By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an +excellent stratagem. + +Second Drawer +I'll see if I can find out Sneak. + +Exit + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an +excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as +extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your +colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good +truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much +canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, +and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's +this?' How do you now? + +DOLL TEARSHEET +Better than I was: hem! + +The Life of King Henry the Fifth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry V | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend +The brightest heaven of invention, +A kingdom for a stage, princes to act +And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! +Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, +Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, +Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire +Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, +The flat unraised spirits that have dared +On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth +So great an object: can this cockpit hold +The vasty fields of France? or may we cram +Within this wooden O the very casques +That did affright the air at Agincourt? +O, pardon! since a crooked figure may +Attest in little place a million; +And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, +On your imaginary forces work. +Suppose within the girdle of these walls +Are now confined two mighty monarchies, +Whose high upreared and abutting fronts +The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: +Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; +Into a thousand parts divide on man, +And make imaginary puissance; +Think when we talk of horses, that you see them +Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth; +For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, +Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, +Turning the accomplishment of many years +Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, +Admit me Chorus to this history; +Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, +Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY +CANTERBURY +My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged, +Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign +Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, +But that the scambling and unquiet time +Did push it out of farther question. + +ELY +But how, my lord, shall we resist it now? + +CANTERBURY +It must be thought on. If it pass against us, +We lose the better half of our possession: +For all the temporal lands which men devout +By testament have given to the church +Would they strip from us; being valued thus: +As much as would maintain, to the king's honour, +Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, +Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; +And, to relief of lazars and weak age, +Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil. +A hundred almshouses right well supplied; +And to the coffers of the king beside, +A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill. + +ELY +This would drink deep. + +CANTERBURY +'Twould drink the cup and all. + +ELY +But what prevention? + +CANTERBURY +The king is full of grace and fair regard. + +ELY +And a true lover of the holy church. + +CANTERBURY +The courses of his youth promised it not. +The breath no sooner left his father's body, +But that his wildness, mortified in him, +Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment +Consideration, like an angel, came +And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, +Leaving his body as a paradise, +To envelop and contain celestial spirits. +Never was such a sudden scholar made; +Never came reformation in a flood, +With such a heady currance, scouring faults +Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness +So soon did lose his seat and all at once +As in this king. + +ELY +We are blessed in the change. + +CANTERBURY +Hear him but reason in divinity, +And all-admiring with an inward wish +You would desire the king were made a prelate: +Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, +You would say it hath been all in all his study: +List his discourse of war, and you shall hear +A fearful battle render'd you in music: +Turn him to any cause of policy, +The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, +Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, +The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, +And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, +To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences; +So that the art and practic part of life +Must be the mistress to this theoric: +Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it, +Since his addiction was to courses vain, +His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow, +His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports, +And never noted in him any study, +Any retirement, any sequestration +From open haunts and popularity. + +ELY +The strawberry grows underneath the nettle +And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best +Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality: +And so the prince obscured his contemplation +Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, +Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, +Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. + +CANTERBURY +It must be so; for miracles are ceased; +And therefore we must needs admit the means +How things are perfected. + +ELY +But, my good lord, +How now for mitigation of this bill +Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty +Incline to it, or no? + +CANTERBURY +He seems indifferent, +Or rather swaying more upon our part +Than cherishing the exhibiters against us; +For I have made an offer to his majesty, +Upon our spiritual convocation +And in regard of causes now in hand, +Which I have open'd to his grace at large, +As touching France, to give a greater sum +Than ever at one time the clergy yet +Did to his predecessors part withal. + +ELY +How did this offer seem received, my lord? + +CANTERBURY +With good acceptance of his majesty; +Save that there was not time enough to hear, +As I perceived his grace would fain have done, +The severals and unhidden passages +Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms +And generally to the crown and seat of France +Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather. + +ELY +What was the impediment that broke this off? + +CANTERBURY +The French ambassador upon that instant +Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come +To give him hearing: is it four o'clock? + +ELY +It is. + +CANTERBURY +Then go we in, to know his embassy; +Which I could with a ready guess declare, +Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. + +ELY +I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber. + +Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants +KING HENRY V +Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury? + +EXETER +Not here in presence. + +KING HENRY V +Send for him, good uncle. + +WESTMORELAND +Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege? + +KING HENRY V +Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved, +Before we hear him, of some things of weight +That task our thoughts, concerning us and France. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY + +CANTERBURY +God and his angels guard your sacred throne +And make you long become it! + +KING HENRY V +Sure, we thank you. +My learned lord, we pray you to proceed +And justly and religiously unfold +Why the law Salique that they have in France +Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim: +And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, +That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading, +Or nicely charge your understanding soul +With opening titles miscreate, whose right +Suits not in native colours with the truth; +For God doth know how many now in health +Shall drop their blood in approbation +Of what your reverence shall incite us to. +Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, +How you awake our sleeping sword of war: +We charge you, in the name of God, take heed; +For never two such kingdoms did contend +Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops +Are every one a woe, a sore complaint +'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords +That make such waste in brief mortality. +Under this conjuration, speak, my lord; +For we will hear, note and believe in heart +That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd +As pure as sin with baptism. + +CANTERBURY +Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers, +That owe yourselves, your lives and services +To this imperial throne. There is no bar +To make against your highness' claim to France +But this, which they produce from Pharamond, +'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:' +'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:' +Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze +To be the realm of France, and Pharamond +The founder of this law and female bar. +Yet their own authors faithfully affirm +That the land Salique is in Germany, +Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe; +Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons, +There left behind and settled certain French; +Who, holding in disdain the German women +For some dishonest manners of their life, +Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female +Should be inheritrix in Salique land: +Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala, +Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen. +Then doth it well appear that Salique law +Was not devised for the realm of France: +Nor did the French possess the Salique land +Until four hundred one and twenty years +After defunction of King Pharamond, +Idly supposed the founder of this law; +Who died within the year of our redemption +Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great +Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French +Beyond the river Sala, in the year +Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, +King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, +Did, as heir general, being descended +Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, +Make claim and title to the crown of France. +Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown +Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male +Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, +To find his title with some shows of truth, +'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught, +Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare, +Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son +To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son +Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, +Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, +Could not keep quiet in his conscience, +Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied +That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, +Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, +Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine: +By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great +Was re-united to the crown of France. +So that, as clear as is the summer's sun. +King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim, +King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear +To hold in right and title of the female: +So do the kings of France unto this day; +Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law +To bar your highness claiming from the female, +And rather choose to hide them in a net +Than amply to imbar their crooked titles +Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. + +KING HENRY V +May I with right and conscience make this claim? + +CANTERBURY +The sin upon my head, dread sovereign! +For in the book of Numbers is it writ, +When the man dies, let the inheritance +Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, +Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag; +Look back into your mighty ancestors: +Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, +From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit, +And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, +Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy, +Making defeat on the full power of France, +Whiles his most mighty father on a hill +Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp +Forage in blood of French nobility. +O noble English. that could entertain +With half their forces the full Pride of France +And let another half stand laughing by, +All out of work and cold for action! + +ELY +Awake remembrance of these valiant dead +And with your puissant arm renew their feats: +You are their heir; you sit upon their throne; +The blood and courage that renowned them +Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege +Is in the very May-morn of his youth, +Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. + +EXETER +Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth +Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, +As did the former lions of your blood. + +WESTMORELAND +They know your grace hath cause and means and might; +So hath your highness; never king of England +Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects, +Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England +And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France. + +CANTERBURY +O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, +With blood and sword and fire to win your right; +In aid whereof we of the spiritualty +Will raise your highness such a mighty sum +As never did the clergy at one time +Bring in to any of your ancestors. + +KING HENRY V +We must not only arm to invade the French, +But lay down our proportions to defend +Against the Scot, who will make road upon us +With all advantages. + +CANTERBURY +They of those marches, gracious sovereign, +Shall be a wall sufficient to defend +Our inland from the pilfering borderers. + +KING HENRY V +We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, +But fear the main intendment of the Scot, +Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us; +For you shall read that my great-grandfather +Never went with his forces into France +But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom +Came pouring, like the tide into a breach, +With ample and brim fulness of his force, +Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, +Girding with grievous siege castles and towns; +That England, being empty of defence, +Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood. + +CANTERBURY +She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege; +For hear her but exampled by herself: +When all her chivalry hath been in France +And she a mourning widow of her nobles, +She hath herself not only well defended +But taken and impounded as a stray +The King of Scots; whom she did send to France, +To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings +And make her chronicle as rich with praise +As is the ooze and bottom of the sea +With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries. + +WESTMORELAND +But there's a saying very old and true, +'If that you will France win, +Then with Scotland first begin:' +For once the eagle England being in prey, +To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot +Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs, +Playing the mouse in absence of the cat, +To tear and havoc more than she can eat. + +EXETER +It follows then the cat must stay at home: +Yet that is but a crush'd necessity, +Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, +And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. +While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, +The advised head defends itself at home; +For government, though high and low and lower, +Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, +Congreeing in a full and natural close, +Like music. + +CANTERBURY +Therefore doth heaven divide +The state of man in divers functions, +Setting endeavour in continual motion; +To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, +Obedience: for so work the honey-bees, +Creatures that by a rule in nature teach +The act of order to a peopled kingdom. +They have a king and officers of sorts; +Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, +Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, +Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, +Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, +Which pillage they with merry march bring home +To the tent-royal of their emperor; +Who, busied in his majesty, surveys +The singing masons building roofs of gold, +The civil citizens kneading up the honey, +The poor mechanic porters crowding in +Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, +The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, +Delivering o'er to executors pale +The lazy yawning drone. I this infer, +That many things, having full reference +To one consent, may work contrariously: +As many arrows, loosed several ways, +Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town; +As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea; +As many lines close in the dial's centre; +So may a thousand actions, once afoot. +End in one purpose, and be all well borne +Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege. +Divide your happy England into four; +Whereof take you one quarter into France, +And you withal shall make all Gallia shake. +If we, with thrice such powers left at home, +Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, +Let us be worried and our nation lose +The name of hardiness and policy. + +KING HENRY V +Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help, +And yours, the noble sinews of our power, +France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe, +Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit, +Ruling in large and ample empery +O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, +Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, +Tombless, with no remembrance over them: +Either our history shall with full mouth +Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, +Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, +Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph. + +Enter Ambassadors of France + +Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure +Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear +Your greeting is from him, not from the king. + +First Ambassador +May't please your majesty to give us leave +Freely to render what we have in charge; +Or shall we sparingly show you far off +The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? + +KING HENRY V +We are no tyrant, but a Christian king; +Unto whose grace our passion is as subject +As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons: +Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness +Tell us the Dauphin's mind. + +First Ambassador +Thus, then, in few. +Your highness, lately sending into France, +Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right +Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. +In answer of which claim, the prince our master +Says that you savour too much of your youth, +And bids you be advised there's nought in France +That can be with a nimble galliard won; +You cannot revel into dukedoms there. +He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, +This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, +Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim +Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks. + +KING HENRY V +What treasure, uncle? + +EXETER +Tennis-balls, my liege. + +KING HENRY V +We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; +His present and your pains we thank you for: +When we have march'd our rackets to these balls, +We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set +Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. +Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler +That all the courts of France will be disturb'd +With chaces. And we understand him well, +How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, +Not measuring what use we made of them. +We never valued this poor seat of England; +And therefore, living hence, did give ourself +To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common +That men are merriest when they are from home. +But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, +Be like a king and show my sail of greatness +When I do rouse me in my throne of France: +For that I have laid by my majesty +And plodded like a man for working-days, +But I will rise there with so full a glory +That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, +Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. +And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his +Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul +Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance +That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows +Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands; +Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; +And some are yet ungotten and unborn +That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn. +But this lies all within the will of God, +To whom I do appeal; and in whose name +Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, +To venge me as I may and to put forth +My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause. +So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin +His jest will savour but of shallow wit, +When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. +Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well. + +Exeunt Ambassadors + +EXETER +This was a merry message. + +KING HENRY V +We hope to make the sender blush at it. +Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour +That may give furtherance to our expedition; +For we have now no thought in us but France, +Save those to God, that run before our business. +Therefore let our proportions for these wars +Be soon collected and all things thought upon +That may with reasonable swiftness add +More feathers to our wings; for, God before, +We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door. +Therefore let every man now task his thought, +That this fair action may on foot be brought. + +Exeunt. Flourish + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now all the youth of England are on fire, +And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies: +Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought +Reigns solely in the breast of every man: +They sell the pasture now to buy the horse, +Following the mirror of all Christian kings, +With winged heels, as English Mercuries. +For now sits Expectation in the air, +And hides a sword from hilts unto the point +With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets, +Promised to Harry and his followers. +The French, advised by good intelligence +Of this most dreadful preparation, +Shake in their fear and with pale policy +Seek to divert the English purposes. +O England! model to thy inward greatness, +Like little body with a mighty heart, +What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, +Were all thy children kind and natural! +But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out +A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills +With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men, +One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second, +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, +Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland, +Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed! +Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France; +And by their hands this grace of kings must die, +If hell and treason hold their promises, +Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. +Linger your patience on; and we'll digest +The abuse of distance; force a play: +The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; +The king is set from London; and the scene +Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton; +There is the playhouse now, there must you sit: +And thence to France shall we convey you safe, +And bring you back, charming the narrow seas +To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, +We'll not offend one stomach with our play. +But, till the king come forth, and not till then, +Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH +BARDOLPH +Well met, Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH +What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet? + +NYM +For my part, I care not: I say little; but when +time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that +shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will +wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but +what though? it will toast cheese, and it will +endure cold as another man's sword will: and +there's an end. + +BARDOLPH +I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and +we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it +be so, good Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the +certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I +will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the +rendezvous of it. + +BARDOLPH +It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell +Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you +were troth-plight to her. + +NYM +I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may +sleep, and they may have their throats about them at +that time; and some say knives have edges. It must +be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet +she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I +cannot tell. + +Enter PISTOL and Hostess + +BARDOLPH +Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good +corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol! + +PISTOL +Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand, +I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. + +Hostess +No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and +board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live +honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will +be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. + +NYM and PISTOL draw + +O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we +shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. + +BARDOLPH +Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. + +NYM +Pish! + +PISTOL +Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland! + +Hostess +Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. + +NYM +Will you shog off? I would have you solus. + +PISTOL +'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile! +The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face; +The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat, +And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy, +And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! +I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels; +For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, +And flashing fire will follow. + +NYM +I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an +humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow +foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my +rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk +off, I would prick your guts a little, in good +terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +O braggart vile and damned furious wight! +The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; +Therefore exhale. + +BARDOLPH +Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the +first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. + +Draws + +PISTOL +An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. +Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give: +Thy spirits are most tall. + +NYM +I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair +terms: that is the humour of it. + +PISTOL +'Couple a gorge!' +That is the word. I thee defy again. +O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? +No; to the spital go, +And from the powdering tub of infamy +Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, +Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse: +I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly +For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. Go to. + +Enter the Boy + +Boy +Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and +you, hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. +Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and +do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. + +BARDOLPH +Away, you rogue! + +Hostess +By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of +these days. The king has killed his heart. Good +husband, come home presently. + +Exeunt Hostess and Boy + +BARDOLPH +Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to +France together: why the devil should we keep +knives to cut one another's throats? + +PISTOL +Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! + +NYM +You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +Base is the slave that pays. + +NYM +That now I will have: that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +As manhood shall compound: push home. + +They draw + +BARDOLPH +By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll +kill him; by this sword, I will. + +PISTOL +Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. + +BARDOLPH +Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: +an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. +Prithee, put up. + +NYM +I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +A noble shalt thou have, and present pay; +And liquor likewise will I give to thee, +And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood: +I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me; +Is not this just? for I shall sutler be +Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. +Give me thy hand. + +NYM +I shall have my noble? + +PISTOL +In cash most justly paid. + +NYM +Well, then, that's the humour of't. + +Re-enter Hostess + +Hostess +As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir +John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning +quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to +behold. Sweet men, come to him. + +NYM +The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's +the even of it. + +PISTOL +Nym, thou hast spoke the right; +His heart is fracted and corroborate. + +NYM +The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; +he passes some humours and careers. + +PISTOL +Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live. + +SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber. + +Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND +BEDFORD +'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. + +EXETER +They shall be apprehended by and by. + +WESTMORELAND +How smooth and even they do bear themselves! +As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, +Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. + +BEDFORD +The king hath note of all that they intend, +By interception which they dream not of. + +EXETER +Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, +Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours, +That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell +His sovereign's life to death and treachery. + +Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants + +KING HENRY V +Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. +My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham, +And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts: +Think you not that the powers we bear with us +Will cut their passage through the force of France, +Doing the execution and the act +For which we have in head assembled them? + +SCROOP +No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. + +KING HENRY V +I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded +We carry not a heart with us from hence +That grows not in a fair consent with ours, +Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish +Success and conquest to attend on us. + +CAMBRIDGE +Never was monarch better fear'd and loved +Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject +That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness +Under the sweet shade of your government. + +GREY +True: those that were your father's enemies +Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you +With hearts create of duty and of zeal. + +KING HENRY V +We therefore have great cause of thankfulness; +And shall forget the office of our hand, +Sooner than quittance of desert and merit +According to the weight and worthiness. + +SCROOP +So service shall with steeled sinews toil, +And labour shall refresh itself with hope, +To do your grace incessant services. + +KING HENRY V +We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter, +Enlarge the man committed yesterday, +That rail'd against our person: we consider +it was excess of wine that set him on; +And on his more advice we pardon him. + +SCROOP +That's mercy, but too much security: +Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example +Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. + +KING HENRY V +O, let us yet be merciful. + +CAMBRIDGE +So may your highness, and yet punish too. + +GREY +Sir, +You show great mercy, if you give him life, +After the taste of much correction. + +KING HENRY V +Alas, your too much love and care of me +Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch! +If little faults, proceeding on distemper, +Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye +When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested, +Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, +Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care +And tender preservation of our person, +Would have him punished. And now to our French causes: +Who are the late commissioners? + +CAMBRIDGE +I one, my lord: +Your highness bade me ask for it to-day. + +SCROOP +So did you me, my liege. + +GREY +And I, my royal sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours; +There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight, +Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: +Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. +My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, +We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen! +What see you in those papers that you lose +So much complexion? Look ye, how they change! +Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there +That hath so cowarded and chased your blood +Out of appearance? + +CAMBRIDGE +I do confess my fault; +And do submit me to your highness' mercy. + +GREY SCROOP +To which we all appeal. + +KING HENRY V +The mercy that was quick in us but late, +By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: +You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy; +For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, +As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. +See you, my princes, and my noble peers, +These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here, +You know how apt our love was to accord +To furnish him with all appertinents +Belonging to his honour; and this man +Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired, +And sworn unto the practises of France, +To kill us here in Hampton: to the which +This knight, no less for bounty bound to us +Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O, +What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel, +Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature! +Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels, +That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, +That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold, +Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use, +May it be possible, that foreign hire +Could out of thee extract one spark of evil +That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange, +That, though the truth of it stands off as gross +As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. +Treason and murder ever kept together, +As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose, +Working so grossly in a natural cause, +That admiration did not whoop at them: +But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in +Wonder to wait on treason and on murder: +And whatsoever cunning fiend it was +That wrought upon thee so preposterously +Hath got the voice in hell for excellence: +All other devils that suggest by treasons +Do botch and bungle up damnation +With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd +From glistering semblances of piety; +But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up, +Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason, +Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. +If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus +Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, +He might return to vasty Tartar back, +And tell the legions 'I can never win +A soul so easy as that Englishman's.' +O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected +The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? +Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned? +Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family? +Why, so didst thou: seem they religious? +Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet, +Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, +Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, +Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, +Not working with the eye without the ear, +And but in purged judgment trusting neither? +Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: +And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, +To mark the full-fraught man and best indued +With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; +For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like +Another fall of man. Their faults are open: +Arrest them to the answer of the law; +And God acquit them of their practises! + +EXETER +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Richard Earl of Cambridge. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. + +SCROOP +Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; +And I repent my fault more than my death; +Which I beseech your highness to forgive, +Although my body pay the price of it. + +CAMBRIDGE +For me, the gold of France did not seduce; +Although I did admit it as a motive +The sooner to effect what I intended: +But God be thanked for prevention; +Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, +Beseeching God and you to pardon me. + +GREY +Never did faithful subject more rejoice +At the discovery of most dangerous treason +Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself. +Prevented from a damned enterprise: +My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. +You have conspired against our royal person, +Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers +Received the golden earnest of our death; +Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, +His princes and his peers to servitude, +His subjects to oppression and contempt +And his whole kingdom into desolation. +Touching our person seek we no revenge; +But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, +Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws +We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, +Poor miserable wretches, to your death: +The taste whereof, God of his mercy give +You patience to endure, and true repentance +Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence. + +Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, guarded + +Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof +Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. +We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, +Since God so graciously hath brought to light +This dangerous treason lurking in our way +To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now +But every rub is smoothed on our way. +Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver +Our puissance into the hand of God, +Putting it straight in expedition. +Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: +No king of England, if not king of France. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. + +Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy +Hostess +Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. + +PISTOL +No; for my manly heart doth yearn. +Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: +Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, +And we must yearn therefore. + +BARDOLPH +Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in +heaven or in hell! + +Hostess +Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's +bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made +a finer end and went away an it had been any +christom child; a' parted even just between twelve +and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after +I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with +flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew +there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as +a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now, +sir John!' quoth I 'what, man! be o' good +cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or +four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' +should not think of God; I hoped there was no need +to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So +a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my +hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as +cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and +they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and +upward, and all was as cold as any stone. + +NYM +They say he cried out of sack. + +Hostess +Ay, that a' did. + +BARDOLPH +And of women. + +Hostess +Nay, that a' did not. + +Boy +Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils +incarnate. + +Hostess +A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he +never liked. + +Boy +A' said once, the devil would have him about women. + +Hostess +A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then +he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. + +Boy +Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon +Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul +burning in hell-fire? + +BARDOLPH +Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: +that's all the riches I got in his service. + +NYM +Shall we shog? the king will be gone from +Southampton. + +PISTOL +Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. +Look to my chattels and my movables: +Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' +Trust none; +For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, +And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: +Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. +Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, +Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, +To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! + +Boy +And that's but unwholesome food they say. + +PISTOL +Touch her soft mouth, and march. + +BARDOLPH +Farewell, hostess. + +Kissing her + +NYM +I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. + +PISTOL +Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. + +Hostess +Farewell; adieu. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace. + +Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others +KING OF FRANCE +Thus comes the English with full power upon us; +And more than carefully it us concerns +To answer royally in our defences. +Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, +Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, +And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, +To line and new repair our towns of war +With men of courage and with means defendant; +For England his approaches makes as fierce +As waters to the sucking of a gulf. +It fits us then to be as provident +As fear may teach us out of late examples +Left by the fatal and neglected English +Upon our fields. + +DAUPHIN +My most redoubted father, +It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; +For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, +Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, +But that defences, musters, preparations, +Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, +As were a war in expectation. +Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth +To view the sick and feeble parts of France: +And let us do it with no show of fear; +No, with no more than if we heard that England +Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: +For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, +Her sceptre so fantastically borne +By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, +That fear attends her not. + +Constable +O peace, Prince Dauphin! +You are too much mistaken in this king: +Question your grace the late ambassadors, +With what great state he heard their embassy, +How well supplied with noble counsellors, +How modest in exception, and withal +How terrible in constant resolution, +And you shall find his vanities forespent +Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, +Covering discretion with a coat of folly; +As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots +That shall first spring and be most delicate. + +DAUPHIN +Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; +But though we think it so, it is no matter: +In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh +The enemy more mighty than he seems: +So the proportions of defence are fill'd; +Which of a weak or niggardly projection +Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting +A little cloth. + +KING OF FRANCE +Think we King Harry strong; +And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. +The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; +And he is bred out of that bloody strain +That haunted us in our familiar paths: +Witness our too much memorable shame +When Cressy battle fatally was struck, +And all our princes captiv'd by the hand +Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; +Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, +Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, +Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, +Mangle the work of nature and deface +The patterns that by God and by French fathers +Had twenty years been made. This is a stem +Of that victorious stock; and let us fear +The native mightiness and fate of him. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Ambassadors from Harry King of England +Do crave admittance to your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. + +Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords + +You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. + +DAUPHIN +Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs +Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten +Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, +Take up the English short, and let them know +Of what a monarchy you are the head: +Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin +As self-neglecting. + +Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train + +KING OF FRANCE +From our brother England? + +EXETER +From him; and thus he greets your majesty. +He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, +That you divest yourself, and lay apart +The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, +By law of nature and of nations, 'long +To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown +And all wide-stretched honours that pertain +By custom and the ordinance of times +Unto the crown of France. That you may know +'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, +Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, +Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, +He sends you this most memorable line, +In every branch truly demonstrative; +Willing to overlook this pedigree: +And when you find him evenly derived +From his most famed of famous ancestors, +Edward the Third, he bids you then resign +Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held +From him the native and true challenger. + +KING OF FRANCE +Or else what follows? + +EXETER +Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown +Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: +Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, +In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, +That, if requiring fail, he will compel; +And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, +Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy +On the poor souls for whom this hungry war +Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head +Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries +The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans, +For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, +That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. +This is his claim, his threatening and my message; +Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, +To whom expressly I bring greeting too. + +KING OF FRANCE +For us, we will consider of this further: +To-morrow shall you bear our full intent +Back to our brother England. + +DAUPHIN +For the Dauphin, +I stand here for him: what to him from England? + +EXETER +Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, +And any thing that may not misbecome +The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. +Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness +Do not, in grant of all demands at large, +Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, +He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, +That caves and womby vaultages of France +Shall chide your trespass and return your mock +In second accent of his ordnance. + +DAUPHIN +Say, if my father render fair return, +It is against my will; for I desire +Nothing but odds with England: to that end, +As matching to his youth and vanity, +I did present him with the Paris balls. + +EXETER +He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, +Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: +And, be assured, you'll find a difference, +As we his subjects have in wonder found, +Between the promise of his greener days +And these he masters now: now he weighs time +Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read +In your own losses, if he stay in France. + +KING OF FRANCE +To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. + +EXETER +Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king +Come here himself to question our delay; +For he is footed in this land already. + +KING OF FRANCE +You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions: +A night is but small breath and little pause +To answer matters of this consequence. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT III +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies +In motion of no less celerity +Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen +The well-appointed king at Hampton pier +Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet +With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: +Play with your fancies, and in them behold +Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; +Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give +To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails, +Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, +Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, +Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think +You stand upon the ravage and behold +A city on the inconstant billows dancing; +For so appears this fleet majestical, +Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow: +Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, +And leave your England, as dead midnight still, +Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women, +Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance; +For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd +With one appearing hair, that will not follow +These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? +Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; +Behold the ordnance on their carriages, +With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. +Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back; +Tells Harry that the king doth offer him +Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry, +Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. +The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner +With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, + +Alarum, and chambers go off + +And down goes all before them. Still be kind, +And eke out our performance with your mind. + +Exit + +SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders +KING HENRY V +Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; +Or close the wall up with our English dead. +In peace there's nothing so becomes a man +As modest stillness and humility: +But when the blast of war blows in our ears, +Then imitate the action of the tiger; +Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, +Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; +Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; +Let pry through the portage of the head +Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it +As fearfully as doth a galled rock +O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, +Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. +Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, +Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit +To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. +Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! +Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, +Have in these parts from morn till even fought +And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: +Dishonour not your mothers; now attest +That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. +Be copy now to men of grosser blood, +And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, +Whose limbs were made in England, show us here +The mettle of your pasture; let us swear +That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; +For there is none of you so mean and base, +That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. +I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, +Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: +Follow your spirit, and upon this charge +Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' + +Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy +BARDOLPH +On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach! + +NYM +Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot; +and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: +the humour of it is too hot, that is the very +plain-song of it. + +PISTOL +The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound: +Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die; +And sword and shield, +In bloody field, +Doth win immortal fame. + +Boy +Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give +all my fame for a pot of ale and safety. + +PISTOL +And I: +If wishes would prevail with me, +My purpose should not fail with me, +But thither would I hie. + +Boy +As duly, but not as truly, +As bird doth sing on bough. + +Enter FLUELLEN + +FLUELLEN +Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions! + +Driving them forward + +PISTOL +Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould. +Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage, +Abate thy rage, great duke! +Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck! + +NYM +These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours. + +Exeunt all but Boy + +Boy +As young as I am, I have observed these three +swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they +three, though they would serve me, could not be man +to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to +a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and +red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but +fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue +and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks +words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath +heard that men of few words are the best men; and +therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a' +should be thought a coward: but his few bad words +are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never +broke any man's head but his own, and that was +against a post when he was drunk. They will steal +any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a +lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for +three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn +brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a +fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the +men would carry coals. They would have me as +familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their +handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, +if I should take from another's pocket to put into +mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I +must leave them, and seek some better service: +their villany goes against my weak stomach, and +therefore I must cast it up. + +Exit + +Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following + +GOWER +Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the +mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you. + +FLUELLEN +To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good +to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is +not according to the disciplines of the war: the +concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, +the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look +you, is digt himself four yard under the +countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up +all, if there is not better directions. + +GOWER +The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the +siege is given, is altogether directed by an +Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith. + +FLUELLEN +It is Captain Macmorris, is it not? + +GOWER +I think it be. + +FLUELLEN +By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will +verify as much in his beard: be has no more +directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look +you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog. + +Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY + +GOWER +Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman, +that is certain; and of great expedition and +knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular +knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will +maintain his argument as well as any military man in +the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars +of the Romans. + +JAMY +I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN +God-den to your worship, good Captain James. + +GOWER +How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the +mines? have the pioneers given o'er? + +MACMORRIS +By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give +over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I +swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; +it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so +Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done, +tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done! + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you +voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, +as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of +the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, +look you, and friendly communication; partly to +satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, +look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of +the military discipline; that is the point. + +JAMY +It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: +and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick +occasion; that sall I, marry. + +MACMORRIS +It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the +day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the +king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The +town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the +breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing: +'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to +stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is +throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there +ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la! + +JAMY +By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves +to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i' +the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay +'t as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do, +that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full +fain hear some question 'tween you tway. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your +correction, there is not many of your nation-- + +MACMORRIS +Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, +and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish +my nation? Who talks of my nation? + +FLUELLEN +Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is +meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think +you do not use me with that affability as in +discretion you ought to use me, look you: being as +good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of +war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in +other particularities. + +MACMORRIS +I do not know you so good a man as myself: so +Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. + +GOWER +Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. + +JAMY +A! that's a foul fault. + +A parley sounded + +GOWER +The town sounds a parley. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, when there is more better +opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so +bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; +and there is an end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the gates. + +The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train +KING HENRY V +How yet resolves the governor of the town? +This is the latest parle we will admit; +Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves; +Or like to men proud of destruction +Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier, +A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, +If I begin the battery once again, +I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur +Till in her ashes she lie buried. +The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, +And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, +In liberty of bloody hand shall range +With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass +Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. +What is it then to me, if impious war, +Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends, +Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats +Enlink'd to waste and desolation? +What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, +If your pure maidens fall into the hand +Of hot and forcing violation? +What rein can hold licentious wickedness +When down the hill he holds his fierce career? +We may as bootless spend our vain command +Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil +As send precepts to the leviathan +To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, +Take pity of your town and of your people, +Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; +Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace +O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds +Of heady murder, spoil and villany. +If not, why, in a moment look to see +The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand +Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; +Your fathers taken by the silver beards, +And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls, +Your naked infants spitted upon pikes, +Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused +Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry +At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. +What say you? will you yield, and this avoid, +Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd? + +GOVERNOR +Our expectation hath this day an end: +The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated, +Returns us that his powers are yet not ready +To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king, +We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. +Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours; +For we no longer are defensible. + +KING HENRY V +Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter, +Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain, +And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French: +Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle, +The winter coming on and sickness growing +Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais. +To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest; +To-morrow for the march are we addrest. + +Flourish. The King and his train enter the town + +SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace. + +Enter KATHARINE and ALICE +KATHARINE +Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage. + +ALICE +Un peu, madame. + +KATHARINE +Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a +parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois? + +ALICE +La main? elle est appelee de hand. + +KATHARINE +De hand. Et les doigts? + +ALICE +Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me +souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont +appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres. + +KATHARINE +La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense +que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots +d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles? + +ALICE +Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails. + +KATHARINE +De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de +hand, de fingres, et de nails. + +ALICE +C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. + +KATHARINE +Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras. + +ALICE +De arm, madame. + +KATHARINE +Et le coude? + +ALICE +De elbow. + +KATHARINE +De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les +mots que vous m'avez appris des a present. + +ALICE +Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. + +KATHARINE +Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres, +de nails, de arma, de bilbow. + +ALICE +De elbow, madame. + +KATHARINE +O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment +appelez-vous le col? + +ALICE +De neck, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nick. Et le menton? + +ALICE +De chin. + +KATHARINE +De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin. + +ALICE +Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez +les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. + +KATHARINE +Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, +et en peu de temps. + +ALICE +N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne? + +KATHARINE +Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de +fingres, de mails-- + +ALICE +De nails, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nails, de arm, de ilbow. + +ALICE +Sauf votre honneur, de elbow. + +KATHARINE +Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment +appelez-vous le pied et la robe? + +ALICE +De foot, madame; et de coun. + +KATHARINE +De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots +de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et +non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais +prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France +pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le coun! +Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon +ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de +elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun. + +ALICE +Excellent, madame! + +KATHARINE +C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others +KING OF FRANCE +'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme. + +Constable +And if he be not fought withal, my lord, +Let us not live in France; let us quit all +And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. + +DAUPHIN +O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, +The emptying of our fathers' luxury, +Our scions, put in wild and savage stock, +Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, +And overlook their grafters? + +BOURBON +Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! +Mort de ma vie! if they march along +Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, +To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm +In that nook-shotten isle of Albion. + +Constable +Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle? +Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull, +On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, +Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, +A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth, +Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? +And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, +Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land, +Let us not hang like roping icicles +Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people +Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! +Poor we may call them in their native lords. + +DAUPHIN +By faith and honour, +Our madams mock at us, and plainly say +Our mettle is bred out and they will give +Their bodies to the lust of English youth +To new-store France with bastard warriors. + +BOURBON +They bid us to the English dancing-schools, +And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos; +Saying our grace is only in our heels, +And that we are most lofty runaways. + +KING OF FRANCE +Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence: +Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. +Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged +More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: +Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; +You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, +Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; +Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, +Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg, +Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; +High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights, +For your great seats now quit you of great shames. +Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land +With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur: +Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow +Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat +The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon: +Go down upon him, you have power enough, +And in a captive chariot into Rouen +Bring him our prisoner. + +Constable +This becomes the great. +Sorry am I his numbers are so few, +His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march, +For I am sure, when he shall see our army, +He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear +And for achievement offer us his ransom. + +KING OF FRANCE +Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy. +And let him say to England that we send +To know what willing ransom he will give. +Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen. + +DAUPHIN +Not so, I do beseech your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +Be patient, for you shall remain with us. +Now forth, lord constable and princes all, +And quickly bring us word of England's fall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy. + +Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting +GOWER +How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge? + +FLUELLEN +I assure you, there is very excellent services +committed at the bridge. + +GOWER +Is the Duke of Exeter safe? + +FLUELLEN +The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; +and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my +heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and +my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and +blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the +bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. +There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the +pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as +valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no +estimation in the world; but did see him do as +gallant service. + +GOWER +What do you call him? + +FLUELLEN +He is called Aunchient Pistol. + +GOWER +I know him not. + +Enter PISTOL + +FLUELLEN +Here is the man. + +PISTOL +Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: +The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well. + +FLUELLEN +Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at +his hands. + +PISTOL +Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, +And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate, +And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, +That goddess blind, +That stands upon the rolling restless stone-- + +FLUELLEN +By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is +painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to +signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is +painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which +is the moral of it, that she is turning, and +inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her +foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, +which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth, +the poet makes a most excellent description of it: +Fortune is an excellent moral. + +PISTOL +Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; +For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be: +A damned death! +Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free +And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate: +But Exeter hath given the doom of death +For pax of little price. +Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice: +And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut +With edge of penny cord and vile reproach: +Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. + +FLUELLEN +Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning. + +The First part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Westminster Abbey. + +Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, & c +BEDFORD +Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! +Comets, importing change of times and states, +Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, +And with them scourge the bad revolting stars +That have consented unto Henry's death! +King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! +England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + +GLOUCESTER +England ne'er had a king until his time. +Virtue he had, deserving to command: +His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams: +His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; +His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire, +More dazzled and drove back his enemies +Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces. +What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech: +He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + +EXETER +We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood? +Henry is dead and never shall revive: +Upon a wooden coffin we attend, +And death's dishonourable victory +We with our stately presence glorify, +Like captives bound to a triumphant car. +What! shall we curse the planets of mishap +That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? +Or shall we think the subtle-witted French +Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him +By magic verses have contrived his end? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. +Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day +So dreadful will not be as was his sight. +The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: +The church's prayers made him so prosperous. + +GLOUCESTER +The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, +His thread of life had not so soon decay'd: +None do you like but an effeminate prince, +Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector +And lookest to command the prince and realm. +Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, +More than God or religious churchmen may. + +GLOUCESTER +Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh, +And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st +Except it be to pray against thy foes. + +BEDFORD +Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace: +Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us: +Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms: +Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead. +Posterity, await for wretched years, +When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck, +Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, +And none but women left to wail the dead. +Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: +Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, +Combat with adverse planets in the heavens! +A far more glorious star thy soul will make +Than Julius Caesar or bright-- + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My honourable lords, health to you all! +Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, +Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: +Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, +Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. + +BEDFORD +What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? +Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns +Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + +GLOUCESTER +Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? +If Henry were recall'd to life again, +These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. + +EXETER +How were they lost? what treachery was used? + +Messenger +No treachery; but want of men and money. +Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, +That here you maintain several factions, +And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought, +You are disputing of your generals: +One would have lingering wars with little cost; +Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; +A third thinks, without expense at all, +By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. +Awake, awake, English nobility! +Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot: +Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; +Of England's coat one half is cut away. + +EXETER +Were our tears wanting to this funeral, +These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. + +BEDFORD +Me they concern; Regent I am of France. +Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France. +Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! +Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, +To weep their intermissive miseries. + +Enter to them another Messenger + +Messenger +Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. +France is revolted from the English quite, +Except some petty towns of no import: +The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims; +The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; +Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; +The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. + +EXETER +The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! +O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + +GLOUCESTER +We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats. +Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. + +BEDFORD +Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? +An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, +Wherewith already France is overrun. + +Enter another Messenger + +Messenger +My gracious lords, to add to your laments, +Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, +I must inform you of a dismal fight +Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? + +Messenger +O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: +The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. +The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, +Retiring from the siege of Orleans, +Having full scarce six thousand in his troop. +By three and twenty thousand of the French +Was round encompassed and set upon. +No leisure had he to enrank his men; +He wanted pikes to set before his archers; +Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges +They pitched in the ground confusedly, +To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. +More than three hours the fight continued; +Where valiant Talbot above human thought +Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: +Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; +Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew: +The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms; +All the whole army stood agazed on him: +His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit +A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain +And rush'd into the bowels of the battle. +Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up, +If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward: +He, being in the vaward, placed behind +With purpose to relieve and follow them, +Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. +Hence grew the general wreck and massacre; +Enclosed were they with their enemies: +A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, +Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, +Whom all France with their chief assembled strength +Durst not presume to look once in the face. + +BEDFORD +Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, +For living idly here in pomp and ease, +Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, +Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. + +Messenger +O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, +And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford: +Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. + +BEDFORD +His ransom there is none but I shall pay: +I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne: +His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; +Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. +Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; +Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, +To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: +Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, +Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. + +Messenger +So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; +The English army is grown weak and faint: +The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, +And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, +Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. + +EXETER +Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, +Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, +Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + +BEDFORD +I do remember it; and here take my leave, +To go about my preparation. + +Exit + +GLOUCESTER +I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, +To view the artillery and munition; +And then I will proclaim young Henry king. + +Exit + +EXETER +To Eltham will I, where the young king is, +Being ordain'd his special governor, +And for his safety there I'll best devise. + +Exit + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Each hath his place and function to attend: +I am left out; for me nothing remains. +But long I will not be Jack out of office: +The king from Eltham I intend to steal +And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. France. Before Orleans. + +Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers +CHARLES +Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens +So in the earth, to this day is not known: +Late did he shine upon the English side; +Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. +What towns of any moment but we have? +At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; +Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, +Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + +ALENCON +They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: +Either they must be dieted like mules +And have their provender tied to their mouths +Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + +REIGNIER +Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here? +Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: +Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury; +And he may well in fretting spend his gall, +Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + +CHARLES +Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them. +Now for the honour of the forlorn French! +Him I forgive my death that killeth me +When he sees me go back one foot or fly. + +Exeunt + +Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER + +CHARLES +Who ever saw the like? what men have I! +Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled, +But that they left me 'midst my enemies. + +REIGNIER +Salisbury is a desperate homicide; +He fighteth as one weary of his life. +The other lords, like lions wanting food, +Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + +ALENCON +Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, +England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, +During the time Edward the Third did reign. +More truly now may this be verified; +For none but Samsons and Goliases +It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! +Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose +They had such courage and audacity? + +CHARLES +Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves, +And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: +Of old I know them; rather with their teeth +The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + +REIGNIER +I think, by some odd gimmors or device +Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on; +Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. +By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + +ALENCON +Be it so. + +Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + +CHARLES +Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd: +Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? +Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand: +A holy maid hither with me I bring, +Which by a vision sent to her from heaven +Ordained is to raise this tedious siege +And drive the English forth the bounds of France. +The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, +Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: +What's past and what's to come she can descry. +Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, +For they are certain and unfallible. + +CHARLES +Go, call her in. + +Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +But first, to try her skill, +Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place: +Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern: +By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + +Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE + +REIGNIER +Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? +Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; +I know thee well, though never seen before. +Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me: +In private will I talk with thee apart. +Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. + +REIGNIER +She takes upon her bravely at first dash. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, +My wit untrain'd in any kind of art. +Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased +To shine on my contemptible estate: +Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, +And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, +God's mother deigned to appear to me +And in a vision full of majesty +Will'd me to leave my base vocation +And free my country from calamity: +Her aid she promised and assured success: +In complete glory she reveal'd herself; +And, whereas I was black and swart before, +With those clear rays which she infused on me +That beauty am I bless'd with which you see. +Ask me what question thou canst possible, +And I will answer unpremeditated: +My courage try by combat, if thou darest, +And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. +Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate, +If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + +CHARLES +Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms: +Only this proof I'll of thy valour make, +In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, +And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; +Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword, +Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; +The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's +churchyard, +Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + +CHARLES +Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. + +Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes + +CHARLES +Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon +And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. + +CHARLES +Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: +Impatiently I burn with thy desire; +My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. +Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, +Let me thy servant and not sovereign be: +'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I must not yield to any rites of love, +For my profession's sacred from above: +When I have chased all thy foes from hence, +Then will I think upon a recompense. + +CHARLES +Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + +REIGNIER +My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + +ALENCON +Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; +Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + +REIGNIER +Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + +ALENCON +He may mean more than we poor men do know: +These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. + +REIGNIER +My lord, where are you? what devise you on? +Shall we give over Orleans, or no? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! +Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. + +CHARLES +What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Assign'd am I to be the English scourge. +This night the siege assuredly I'll raise: +Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, +Since I have entered into these wars. +Glory is like a circle in the water, +Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself +Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. +With Henry's death the English circle ends; +Dispersed are the glories it included. +Now am I like that proud insulting ship +Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + +CHARLES +Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? +Thou with an eagle art inspired then. +Helen, the mother of great Constantine, +Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee. +Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth, +How may I reverently worship thee enough? + +ALENCON +Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + +REIGNIER +Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; +Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized. + +CHARLES +Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it: +No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before the Tower. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats +GLOUCESTER +I am come to survey the Tower this day: +Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. +Where be these warders, that they wait not here? +Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. + +First Warder +[Within] Who's there that knocks so imperiously? +First Serving-Man It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + +Second Warder +[Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. +First Serving-Man Villains, answer you so the lord protector? + +First Warder +[Within] The Lord protect him! so we answer him: +We do no otherwise than we are will'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? +There's none protector of the realm but I. +Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize. +Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? + +Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within + +WOODVILE +What noise is this? what traitors have we here? + +GLOUCESTER +Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? +Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter. + +WOODVILE +Have patience, noble duke; I may not open; +The Cardinal of Winchester forbids: +From him I have express commandment +That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + +GLOUCESTER +Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me? +Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate, +Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook? +Thou art no friend to God or to the king: +Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. +Serving-Men Open the gates unto the lord protector, +Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. + +Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this? + +GLOUCESTER +Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +I do, thou most usurping proditor, +And not protector, of the king or realm. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, +Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord; +Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin: +I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, +If thou proceed in this thy insolence. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: +This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, +To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back: +Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth +I'll use to carry thee out of this place. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face. + +GLOUCESTER +What! am I dared and bearded to my face? +Draw, men, for all this privileged place; +Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard, +I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly: +Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat: +In spite of pope or dignities of church, +Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope. + +GLOUCESTER +Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope! +Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay? +Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array. +Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite! + +Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly- burly the Mayor of London and his Officers + +Mayor +Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, +Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + +GLOUCESTER +Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: +Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, +Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, +One that still motions war and never peace, +O'ercharging your free purses with large fines, +That seeks to overthrow religion, +Because he is protector of the realm, +And would have armour here out of the Tower, +To crown himself king and suppress the prince. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not answer thee with words, but blows. + +Here they skirmish again + +Mayor +Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife +But to make open proclamation: +Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst, +Cry. + +Officer +All manner of men assembled here in arms this day +against God's peace and the king's, we charge and +command you, in his highness' name, to repair to +your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, +handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger, +henceforward, upon pain of death. + +GLOUCESTER +Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: +But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure: +Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. + +Mayor +I'll call for clubs, if you will not away. +This cardinal's more haughty than the devil. + +GLOUCESTER +Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head; +For I intend to have it ere long. + +Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF WINCHESTER with their Serving-men + +Mayor +See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart. +Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear! +I myself fight not once in forty year. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Orleans. + +Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy +Master-Gunner Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged, +And how the English have the suburbs won. + +Boy +Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, +Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim. +Master-Gunner But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me: +Chief master-gunner am I of this town; +Something I must do to procure me grace. +The prince's espials have informed me +How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd, +Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars +In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, +And thence discover how with most advantage +They may vex us with shot, or with assault. +To intercept this inconvenience, +A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed; +And even these three days have I watch'd, +If I could see them. +Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer. +If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; +And thou shalt find me at the governor's. + +Exit + +Boy +Father, I warrant you; take you no care; +I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. + +Exit + +Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT, GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others + +SALISBURY +Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! +How wert thou handled being prisoner? +Or by what means got'st thou to be released? +Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + +TALBOT +The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner +Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; +For him was I exchanged and ransomed. +But with a baser man of arms by far +Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: +Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death, +Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd. +In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. +But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart, +Whom with my bare fists I would execute, +If I now had him brought into my power. + +SALISBURY +Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd. + +TALBOT +With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. +In open market-place produced they me, +To be a public spectacle to all: +Here, said they, is the terror of the French, +The scarecrow that affrights our children so. +Then broke I from the officers that led me, +And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground, +To hurl at the beholders of my shame: +My grisly countenance made others fly; +None durst come near for fear of sudden death. +In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; +So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread, +That they supposed I could rend bars of steel, +And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: +Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, +That walked about me every minute-while; +And if I did but stir out of my bed, +Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + +Enter the Boy with a linstock + +SALISBURY +I grieve to hear what torments you endured, +But we will be revenged sufficiently +Now it is supper-time in Orleans: +Here, through this grate, I count each one +and view the Frenchmen how they fortify: +Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale, +Let me have your express opinions +Where is best place to make our battery next. + +GARGRAVE +I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords. + +GLANSDALE +And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + +TALBOT +For aught I see, this city must be famish'd, +Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. + +Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall + +SALISBURY +O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + +GARGRAVE +O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man! + +TALBOT +What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? +Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak: +How farest thou, mirror of all martial men? +One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! +Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand +That hath contrived this woful tragedy! +In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; +Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; +Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, +His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. +Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, +One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: +The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. +Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, +If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! +Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? +Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. +Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort; +Thou shalt not die whiles-- +He beckons with his hand and smiles on me. +As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, +Remember to avenge me on the French.' +Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, +Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: +Wretched shall France be only in my name. + +Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens + +What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? +Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head: +The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, +A holy prophetess new risen up, +Is come with a great power to raise the siege. + +Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans + +TALBOT +Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! +It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. +Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you: +Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, +Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels, +And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. +Convey me Salisbury into his tent, +And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them then re-enter TALBOT +TALBOT +Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? +Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: +A woman clad in armour chaseth them. + +Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE + +Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee; +Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: +Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, +And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. + +Here they fight + +TALBOT +Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? +My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage +And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder. +But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. + +They fight again + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: +I must go victual Orleans forthwith. + +A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers + +O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. +Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; +Help Salisbury to make his testament: +This day is ours, as many more shall be. + +Exit + +TALBOT +My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; +I know not where I am, nor what I do; +A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, +Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: +So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench +Are from their hives and houses driven away. +They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; +Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. + +A short alarum + +Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, +Or tear the lions out of England's coat; +Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: +Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, +Or horse or oxen from the leopard, +As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. + +Alarum. Here another skirmish + +It will not be: retire into your trenches: +You all consented unto Salisbury's death, +For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. +Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans, +In spite of us or aught that we could do. +O, would I were to die with Salisbury! +The shame hereof will make me hide my head. + +Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish + +SCENE VI. The same. + +Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Advance our waving colours on the walls; +Rescued is Orleans from the English +Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. + +CHARLES +Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, +How shall I honour thee for this success? +Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens +That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. +France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! +Recover'd is the town of Orleans: +More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + +REIGNIER +Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? +Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires +And feast and banquet in the open streets, +To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + +ALENCON +All France will be replete with mirth and joy, +When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. + +CHARLES +'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; +For which I will divide my crown with her, +And all the priests and friars in my realm +Shall in procession sing her endless praise. +A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear +Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: +In memory of her when she is dead, +Her ashes, in an urn more precious +Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius, +Transported shall be at high festivals +Before the kings and queens of France. +No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, +But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. +Come in, and let us banquet royally, +After this golden day of victory. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Before Orleans. + +Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels +Sergeant +Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: +If any noise or soldier you perceive +Near to the walls, by some apparent sign +Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + +First Sentinel +Sergeant, you shall. + +Exit Sergeant + +Thus are poor servitors, +When others sleep upon their quiet beds, +Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march + +TALBOT +Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, +By whose approach the regions of Artois, +Wallon and Picardy are friends to us, +This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, +Having all day caroused and banqueted: +Embrace we then this opportunity +As fitting best to quittance their deceit +Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. + +BEDFORD +Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame, +Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, +To join with witches and the help of hell! + +BURGUNDY +Traitors have never other company. +But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + +TALBOT +A maid, they say. + +BEDFORD +A maid! and be so martial! + +BURGUNDY +Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, +If underneath the standard of the French +She carry armour as she hath begun. + +TALBOT +Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: +God is our fortress, in whose conquering name +Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + +BEDFORD +Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. + +TALBOT +Not all together: better far, I guess, +That we do make our entrance several ways; +That, if it chance the one of us do fail, +The other yet may rise against their force. + +BEDFORD +Agreed: I'll to yond corner. + +BURGUNDY +And I to this. + +TALBOT +And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. +Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right +Of English Henry, shall this night appear +How much in duty I am bound to both. + +Sentinels +Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault! + +Cry: 'St. George,' 'A Talbot.' + +The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready + +ALENCON +How now, my lords! what, all unready so? + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well. + +REIGNIER +'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, +Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. + +ALENCON +Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms, +Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise +More venturous or desperate than this. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + +REIGNIER +If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. + +ALENCON +Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard. + +Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE + +CHARLES +Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? +Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, +Make us partakers of a little gain, +That now our loss might be ten times so much? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend! +At all times will you have my power alike? +Sleeping or waking must I still prevail, +Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? +Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good, +This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + +CHARLES +Duke of Alencon, this was your default, +That, being captain of the watch to-night, +Did look no better to that weighty charge. + +ALENCON +Had all your quarters been as safely kept +As that whereof I had the government, +We had not been thus shamefully surprised. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Mine was secure. + +REIGNIER +And so was mine, my lord. + +CHARLES +And, for myself, most part of all this night, +Within her quarter and mine own precinct +I was employ'd in passing to and fro, +About relieving of the sentinels: +Then how or which way should they first break in? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Question, my lords, no further of the case, +How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place +But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. +And now there rests no other shift but this; +To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed, +And lay new platforms to endamage them. + +Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their clothes behind + +Soldier +I'll be so bold to take what they have left. +The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; +For I have loaden me with many spoils, +Using no other weapon but his name. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Orleans. Within the town. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others +BEDFORD +The day begins to break, and night is fled, +Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. +Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. + +Retreat sounded + +TALBOT +Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, +And here advance it in the market-place, +The middle centre of this cursed town. +Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; +For every drop of blood was drawn from him, +There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight. +And that hereafter ages may behold +What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, +Within their chiefest temple I'll erect +A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: +Upon the which, that every one may read, +Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans, +The treacherous manner of his mournful death +And what a terror he had been to France. +But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, +I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, +His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, +Nor any of his false confederates. + +BEDFORD +'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, +Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, +They did amongst the troops of armed men +Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + +BURGUNDY +Myself, as far as I could well discern +For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, +Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, +When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, +Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves +That could not live asunder day or night. +After that things are set in order here, +We'll follow them with all the power we have. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +All hail, my lords! which of this princely train +Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts +So much applauded through the realm of France? + +TALBOT +Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him? + +Messenger +The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, +With modesty admiring thy renown, +By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe +To visit her poor castle where she lies, +That she may boast she hath beheld the man +Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + +BURGUNDY +Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars +Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, +When ladies crave to be encounter'd with. +You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + +TALBOT +Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men +Could not prevail with all their oratory, +Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled: +And therefore tell her I return great thanks, +And in submission will attend on her. +Will not your honours bear me company? + +BEDFORD +No, truly; it is more than manners will: +And I have heard it said, unbidden guests +Are often welcomest when they are gone. + +TALBOT +Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, +I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. +Come hither, captain. + +Whispers + +You perceive my mind? + +Captain +I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle. + +Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Porter, remember what I gave in charge; +And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + +Porter +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, +I shall as famous be by this exploit +As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. +Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight, +And his achievements of no less account: +Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, +To give their censure of these rare reports. + +Enter Messenger and TALBOT + +Messenger +Madam, +According as your ladyship desired, +By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +And he is welcome. What! is this the man? + +Messenger +Madam, it is. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Is this the scourge of France? +Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad +That with his name the mothers still their babes? +I see report is fabulous and false: +I thought I should have seen some Hercules, +A second Hector, for his grim aspect, +And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. +Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! +It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp +Should strike such terror to his enemies. + +TALBOT +Madam, I have been bold to trouble you; +But since your ladyship is not at leisure, +I'll sort some other time to visit you. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. + +Messenger +Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves +To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + +TALBOT +Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, +I go to certify her Talbot's here. + +Re-enter Porter with keys + +COUNTESS + +The Second part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 2 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL, on the one side; QUEEN MARGARET, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other +SUFFOLK +As by your high imperial majesty +I had in charge at my depart for France, +As procurator to your excellence, +To marry Princess Margaret for your grace, +So, in the famous ancient city, Tours, +In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, +The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and Alencon, +Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops, +I have perform'd my task and was espoused: +And humbly now upon my bended knee, +In sight of England and her lordly peers, +Deliver up my title in the queen +To your most gracious hands, that are the substance +Of that great shadow I did represent; +The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, +The fairest queen that ever king received. + +KING HENRY VI +Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret: +I can express no kinder sign of love +Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life, +Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! +For thou hast given me in this beauteous face +A world of earthly blessings to my soul, +If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great King of England and my gracious lord, +The mutual conference that my mind hath had, +By day, by night, waking and in my dreams, +In courtly company or at my beads, +With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign, +Makes me the bolder to salute my king +With ruder terms, such as my wit affords +And over-joy of heart doth minister. + +KING HENRY VI +Her sight did ravish; but her grace in speech, +Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, +Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys; +Such is the fulness of my heart's content. +Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. + +ALL +[Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's +happiness! + +QUEEN MARGARET +We thank you all. + +Flourish + +SUFFOLK +My lord protector, so it please your grace, +Here are the articles of contracted peace +Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, +For eighteen months concluded by consent. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'Imprimis, it is agreed between the French +king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of +Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that +the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, +daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and +Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the +thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy +of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released +and delivered to the king her father'-- + +Lets the paper fall + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, how now! + +GLOUCESTER +Pardon me, gracious lord; +Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart +And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. + +CARDINAL +[Reads] 'Item, It is further agreed between them, +that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be +released and delivered over to the king her father, +and she sent over of the King of England's own +proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.' + +KING HENRY VI +They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down: +We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk, +And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York, +We here discharge your grace from being regent +I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months +Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester, +Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, +Salisbury, and Warwick; +We thank you all for the great favour done, +In entertainment to my princely queen. +Come, let us in, and with all speed provide +To see her coronation be perform'd. + +Exeunt KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and SUFFOLK + +GLOUCESTER +Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, +To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, +Your grief, the common grief of all the land. +What! did my brother Henry spend his youth, +His valour, coin and people, in the wars? +Did he so often lodge in open field, +In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, +To conquer France, his true inheritance? +And did my brother Bedford toil his wits, +To keep by policy what Henry got? +Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, +Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, +Received deep scars in France and Normandy? +Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, +With all the learned council of the realm, +Studied so long, sat in the council-house +Early and late, debating to and fro +How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, +And had his highness in his infancy +Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? +And shall these labours and these honours die? +Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance, +Your deeds of war and all our counsel die? +O peers of England, shameful is this league! +Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, +Blotting your names from books of memory, +Razing the characters of your renown, +Defacing monuments of conquer'd France, +Undoing all, as all had never been! + +CARDINAL +Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, +This peroration with such circumstance? +For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can; +But now it is impossible we should: +Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, +Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine +Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style +Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. + +SALISBURY +Now, by the death of Him that died for all, +These counties were the keys of Normandy. +But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son? + +WARWICK +For grief that they are past recovery: +For, were there hope to conquer them again, +My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. +Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both; +Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer: +And are the cities, that I got with wounds, +Delivered up again with peaceful words? +Mort Dieu! + +YORK +For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate, +That dims the honour of this warlike isle! +France should have torn and rent my very heart, +Before I would have yielded to this league. +I never read but England's kings have had +Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives: +And our King Henry gives away his own, +To match with her that brings no vantages. + +GLOUCESTER +A proper jest, and never heard before, +That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth +For costs and charges in transporting her! +She should have stayed in France and starved +in France, Before-- + +CARDINAL +My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot: +It was the pleasure of my lord the King. + +GLOUCESTER +My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind; +'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, +But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye. +Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face +I see thy fury: if I longer stay, +We shall begin our ancient bickerings. +Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone, +I prophesied France will be lost ere long. + +Exit + +CARDINAL +So, there goes our protector in a rage. +'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, +Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, +And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. +Consider, lords, he is the next of blood, +And heir apparent to the English crown: +Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, +And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west, +There's reason he should be displeased at it. +Look to it, lords! let not his smoothing words +Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect. +What though the common people favour him, +Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of +Gloucester,' +Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice, +'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!' +With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!' +I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss, +He will be found a dangerous protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why should he, then, protect our sovereign, +He being of age to govern of himself? +Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, +And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, +We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat. + +CARDINAL +This weighty business will not brook delay: +I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. + +Exit + +SOMERSET +Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride +And greatness of his place be grief to us, +Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal: +His insolence is more intolerable +Than all the princes in the land beside: +If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector, +Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal. + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET + +SALISBURY +Pride went before, ambition follows him. +While these do labour for their own preferment, +Behoves it us to labour for the realm. +I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester +Did bear him like a noble gentleman. +Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, +More like a soldier than a man o' the church, +As stout and proud as he were lord of all, +Swear like a ruffian and demean himself +Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. +Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, +Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping, +Hath won the greatest favour of the commons, +Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey: +And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, +In bringing them to civil discipline, +Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, +When thou wert regent for our sovereign, +Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people: +Join we together, for the public good, +In what we can, to bridle and suppress +The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal, +With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; +And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds, +While they do tend the profit of the land. + +WARWICK +So God help Warwick, as he loves the land, +And common profit of his country! + +YORK +[Aside] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause. + +SALISBURY +Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main. + +WARWICK +Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost; +That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, +And would have kept so long as breath did last! +Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, +Which I will win from France, or else be slain, + +Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY + +YORK +Anjou and Maine are given to the French; +Paris is lost; the state of Normandy +Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: +Suffolk concluded on the articles, +The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased +To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. +I cannot blame them all: what is't to them? +'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. +Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage +And purchase friends and give to courtezans, +Still revelling like lords till all be gone; +While as the silly owner of the goods +Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands +And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof, +While all is shared and all is borne away, +Ready to starve and dare not touch his own: +So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue, +While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold. +Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland +Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood +As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd +Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. +Anjou and Maine both given unto the French! +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, +Even as I have of fertile England's soil. +A day will come when York shall claim his own; +And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts +And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, +And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, +For that's the golden mark I seek to hit: +Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, +Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist, +Nor wear the diadem upon his head, +Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown. +Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve: +Watch thou and wake when others be asleep, +To pry into the secrets of the state; +Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love, +With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, +And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars: +Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, +With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed; +And in my standard bear the arms of York +To grapple with the house of Lancaster; +And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown, +Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down. + +Exit + +SCENE II. GLOUCESTER'S house. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS +DUCHESS +Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn, +Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? +Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, +As frowning at the favours of the world? +Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth, +Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? +What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem, +Enchased with all the honours of the world? +If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, +Until thy head be circled with the same. +Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold. +What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine: +And, having both together heaved it up, +We'll both together lift our heads to heaven, +And never more abase our sight so low +As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. + +GLOUCESTER +O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, +Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts. +And may that thought, when I imagine ill +Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, +Be my last breathing in this mortal world! +My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. + +DUCHESS +What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it +With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. + +GLOUCESTER +Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, +Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot, +But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; +And on the pieces of the broken wand +Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, +And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. +This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows. + +DUCHESS +Tut, this was nothing but an argument +That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove +Shall lose his head for his presumption. +But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: +Methought I sat in seat of majesty +In the cathedral church of Westminster, +And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd; +Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me +And on my head did set the diadem. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: +Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, +Art thou not second woman in the realm, +And the protector's wife, beloved of him? +Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, +Above the reach or compass of thy thought? +And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, +To tumble down thy husband and thyself +From top of honour to disgrace's feet? +Away from me, and let me hear no more! + +DUCHESS +What, what, my lord! are you so choleric +With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? +Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself, +And not be cheque'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again. + +Enter Messenger + +Messenger +My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure +You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, +Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk. + +GLOUCESTER +I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? + +DUCHESS +Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger + +Follow I must; I cannot go before, +While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. +Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, +I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks +And smooth my way upon their headless necks; +And, being a woman, I will not be slack +To play my part in Fortune's pageant. +Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, +We are alone; here's none but thee and I. + +Enter HUME + +HUME +Jesus preserve your royal majesty! + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace. + +HUME +But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice, +Your grace's title shall be multiplied. + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd +With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, +With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? +And will they undertake to do me good? + +HUME +This they have promised, to show your highness +A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, +That shall make answer to such questions +As by your grace shall be propounded him. + +DUCHESS +It is enough; I'll think upon the questions: +When from St. Alban's we do make return, +We'll see these things effected to the full. +Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, +With thy confederates in this weighty cause. + +Exit + +HUME +Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold; +Marry, and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume! +Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum: +The business asketh silent secrecy. +Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: +Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. +Yet have I gold flies from another coast; +I dare not say, from the rich cardinal +And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, +Yet I do find it so; for to be plain, +They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, +Have hired me to undermine the duchess +And buz these conjurations in her brain. +They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker;' +Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. +Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near +To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. +Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last +Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck, +And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall: +Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the Armourer's man, being one +First Petitioner +My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector +will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver +our supplications in the quill. + +Second Petitioner +Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! +Jesu bless him! + +Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET + +PETER +Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. +I'll be the first, sure. + +Second Petitioner +Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and +not my lord protector. + +SUFFOLK +How now, fellow! would'st anything with me? + +First Petitioner +I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord +protector. + +QUEEN MARGARET +[Reading] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your +supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: +what is thine? + +First Petitioner +Mine is, an't please your grace, against John +Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my +house, and lands, and wife and all, from me. + +SUFFOLK +Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's +yours? What's here! + +Reads + +'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the +commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave! + +Second Petitioner +Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. + +PETER +[Giving his petition] Against my master, Thomas +Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful +heir to the crown. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What sayst thou? did the Duke of York say he was +rightful heir to the crown? + +PETER +That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said +that he was, and that the king was an usurper. + +SUFFOLK +Who is there? + +Enter Servant + +Take this fellow in, and send for +his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear +more of your matter before the King. + +Exit Servant with PETER + +QUEEN MARGARET +And as for you, that love to be protected +Under the wings of our protector's grace, +Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. + +Tears the supplication + +Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go. + +ALL +Come, let's be gone. + +Exeunt + +QUEEN MARGARET +My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, +Is this the fashion in the court of England? +Is this the government of Britain's isle, +And this the royalty of Albion's king? +What shall King Henry be a pupil still +Under the surly Gloucester's governance? +Am I a queen in title and in style, +And must be made a subject to a duke? +I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours +Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love +And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, +I thought King Henry had resembled thee +In courage, courtship and proportion: +But all his mind is bent to holiness, +To number Ave-Maries on his beads; +His champions are the prophets and apostles, +His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, +His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves +Are brazen images of canonized saints. +I would the college of the cardinals +Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome, +And set the triple crown upon his head: +That were a state fit for his holiness. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, be patient: as I was cause +Your highness came to England, so will I +In England work your grace's full content. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort, +The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, +And grumbling York: and not the least of these +But can do more in England than the king. + +SUFFOLK +And he of these that can do most of all +Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: +Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Not all these lords do vex me half so much +As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. +She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, +More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife: +Strangers in court do take her for the queen: +She bears a duke's revenues on her back, +And in her heart she scorns our poverty: +Shall I not live to be avenged on her? +Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, +She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, +The very train of her worst wearing gown +Was better worth than all my father's lands, +Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, +And placed a quire of such enticing birds, +That she will light to listen to the lays, +And never mount to trouble you again. +So, let her rest: and, madam, list to me; +For I am bold to counsel you in this. +Although we fancy not the cardinal, +Yet must we join with him and with the lords, +Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. +As for the Duke of York, this late complaint +Will make but little for his benefit. +So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, +And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and the DUCHESS + +KING HENRY VI +For my part, noble lords, I care not which; +Or Somerset or York, all's one to me. + +YORK +If York have ill demean'd himself in France, +Then let him be denay'd the regentship. + +SOMERSET +If Somerset be unworthy of the place, +Let York be regent; I will yield to him. + +WARWICK +Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no, +Dispute not that: York is the worthier. + +CARDINAL +Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. + +WARWICK +The cardinal's not my better in the field. + +BUCKINGHAM +All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. + +WARWICK +Warwick may live to be the best of all. + +SALISBURY +Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham, +Why Somerset should be preferred in this. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Because the king, forsooth, will have it so. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, the king is old enough himself +To give his censure: these are no women's matters. + +QUEEN MARGARET +If he be old enough, what needs your grace +To be protector of his excellence? + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, I am protector of the realm; +And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. + +SUFFOLK +Resign it then and leave thine insolence. +Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?-- +The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck; +The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas; +And all the peers and nobles of the realm +Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. + +CARDINAL +The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags +Are lank and lean with thy extortions. + +SOMERSET +Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire +Have cost a mass of public treasury. + +BUCKINGHAM +Thy cruelty in execution +Upon offenders, hath exceeded law, +And left thee to the mercy of the law. + +QUEEN MARGARET +They sale of offices and towns in France, +If they were known, as the suspect is great, +Would make thee quickly hop without thy head. + +Exit GLOUCESTER. QUEEN MARGARET drops her fan + +Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not? + +She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear + +I cry you mercy, madam; was it you? + +DUCHESS +Was't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman: +Could I come near your beauty with my nails, +I'd set my ten commandments in your face. + +KING HENRY VI +Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will. + +DUCHESS +Against her will! good king, look to't in time; +She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby: +Though in this place most master wear no breeches, +She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. + +Exit + +BUCKINGHAM +Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, +And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds: +She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs, +She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. + +Exit + +Re-enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Now, lords, my choler being over-blown +With walking once about the quadrangle, +I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. +As for your spiteful false objections, +Prove them, and I lie open to the law: +But God in mercy so deal with my soul, +As I in duty love my king and country! +But, to the matter that we have in hand: +I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man +To be your regent in the realm of France. + +SUFFOLK +Before we make election, give me leave +To show some reason, of no little force, +That York is most unmeet of any man. + +YORK +I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: +First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; +Next, if I be appointed for the place, +My Lord of Somerset will keep me here, +Without discharge, money, or furniture, +Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands: +Last time, I danced attendance on his will +Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost. + +WARWICK +That can I witness; and a fouler fact +Did never traitor in the land commit. + +SUFFOLK +Peace, headstrong Warwick! + +WARWICK +Image of pride, why should I hold my peace? + +Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man PETER, guarded + +SUFFOLK +Because here is a man accused of treason: +Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself! + +YORK +Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? + +KING HENRY VI +What mean'st thou, Suffolk; tell me, what are these? + +SUFFOLK +Please it your majesty, this is the man +That doth accuse his master of high treason: +His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York, +Was rightful heir unto the English crown +And that your majesty was a usurper. + +KING HENRY VI +Say, man, were these thy words? + +HORNER +An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor +thought any such matter: God is my witness, I am +falsely accused by the villain. + +PETER +By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to +me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my +Lord of York's armour. + +YORK +Base dunghill villain and mechanical, +I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech. +I do beseech your royal majesty, +Let him have all the rigor of the law. + +HORNER +Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words. +My accuser is my 'prentice; and when I did correct +him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his +knees he would be even with me: I have good +witness of this: therefore I beseech your majesty, +do not cast away an honest man for a villain's +accusation. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? + +GLOUCESTER +This doom, my lord, if I may judge: +Let Somerset be regent over the French, +Because in York this breeds suspicion: +And let these have a day appointed them +For single combat in convenient place, +For he hath witness of his servant's malice: +This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. + +SOMERSET +I humbly thank your royal majesty. + +HORNER +And I accept the combat willingly. + +PETER +Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity +my case. The spite of man prevaileth against me. O +Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to +fight a blow. O Lord, my heart! + +GLOUCESTER +Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd. + +KING HENRY VI +Away with them to prison; and the day of combat +shall be the last of the next month. Come, +Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. GLOUCESTER's garden. + +Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE +HUME +Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects +performance of your promises. + +BOLINGBROKE +Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her +ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? + +HUME +Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. + +BOLINGBROKE +I have heard her reported to be a woman of an +invincible spirit: but it shall be convenient, +Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be +busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in God's name, +and leave us. + +Exit HUME + +Mother Jourdain, be you +prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, +read you; and let us to our work. + +Enter the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following + +DUCHESS +Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this +gear the sooner the better. + +BOLINGBROKE +Patience, good lady; wizards know their times: +Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, +The time of night when Troy was set on fire; +The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl, +And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves, +That time best fits the work we have in hand. +Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise, +We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. + +Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, & c. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth + +Spirit +Adsum. + +MARGARET JOURDAIN +Asmath, +By the eternal God, whose name and power +Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; +For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence. + +Spirit +Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! + +BOLINGBROKE +'First of the king: what shall of him become?' + +Reading out of a paper + +Spirit +The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death. + +As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer + +BOLINGBROKE +'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?' + +Spirit +By water shall he die, and take his end. + +BOLINGBROKE +'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?' + +Spirit +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Have done, for more I hardly can endure. + +BOLINGBROKE +Descend to darkness and the burning lake! +False fiend, avoid! + +Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit + +Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guard and break in + +YORK +Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. +Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch. +What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal +Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains: +My lord protector will, I doubt it not, +See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts. + +DUCHESS +Not half so bad as thine to England's king, +Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, madam, none at all: what call you this? +Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close. +And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us. +Stafford, take her to thee. + +Exeunt above DUCHESS and HUME, guarded + +We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming. +All, away! + +Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, & c + +YORK +Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well: +A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon! +Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ. +What have we here? + +Reads + +'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death.' +Why, this is just +'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.' +Well, to the rest: +'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk? +By water shall he die, and take his end. +What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand.' +Come, come, my lords; +These oracles are hardly attain'd, +And hardly understood. +The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's, +With him the husband of this lovely lady: +Thither go these news, as fast as horse can +carry them: +A sorry breakfast for my lord protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, +To be the post, in hope of his reward. + +YORK +At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within +there, ho! + +Enter a Servingman + +Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick +To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Saint Alban's. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing +QUEEN MARGARET +Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook, +I saw not better sport these seven years' day: +Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high; +And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. + +KING HENRY VI +But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, +And what a pitch she flew above the rest! +To see how God in all his creatures works! +Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. + +SUFFOLK +No marvel, an it like your majesty, +My lord protector's hawks do tower so well; +They know their master loves to be aloft, +And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind +That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. + +CARDINAL +I thought as much; he would be above the clouds. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that? +Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven? + +KING HENRY VI +The treasury of everlasting joy. + +CARDINAL +Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts +Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart; +Pernicious protector, dangerous peer, +That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! + +GLOUCESTER +What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory? +Tantaene animis coelestibus irae? +Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; +With such holiness can you do it? + +SUFFOLK +No malice, sir; no more than well becomes +So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. + +GLOUCESTER +As who, my lord? + +SUFFOLK +Why, as you, my lord, +An't like your lordly lord-protectorship. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And thy ambition, Gloucester. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, peace, good queen, +And whet not on these furious peers; +For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. + +CARDINAL +Let me be blessed for the peace I make, +Against this proud protector, with my sword! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would +'twere come to that! + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou darest. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious +numbers for the matter; +In thine own person answer thy abuse. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou darest +not peep: an if thou darest, +This evening, on the east side of the grove. + +KING HENRY VI +How now, my lords! + +CARDINAL +Believe me, cousin Gloucester, +Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, +We had had more sport. + +Aside to GLOUCESTER + +Come with thy two-hand sword. + +GLOUCESTER +True, uncle. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advised? the +east side of the grove? + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, how now, uncle Gloucester! + +GLOUCESTER +Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. + +Aside to CARDINAL + +Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this, +Or all my fence shall fail. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum-- +Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. + +KING HENRY VI +The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords. +How irksome is this music to my heart! +When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? +I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. + +Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!' + +GLOUCESTER +What means this noise? +Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? + +Townsman +A miracle! a miracle! + +SUFFOLK +Come to the king and tell him what miracle. + +Townsman +Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, +Within this half-hour, hath received his sight; +A man that ne'er saw in his life before. + +KING HENRY VI +Now, God be praised, that to believing souls +Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair! + +Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following + +CARDINAL +Here comes the townsmen on procession, +To present your highness with the man. + +KING HENRY VI +Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, +Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king; +His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, +That we for thee may glorify the Lord. +What, hast thou been long blind and now restored? + +SIMPCOX +Born blind, an't please your grace. + +Wife +Ay, indeed, was he. + +SUFFOLK +What woman is this? + +Wife +His wife, an't like your worship. + +GLOUCESTER +Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have +better told. + +KING HENRY VI +Where wert thou born? + +SIMPCOX +At Berwick in the north, an't like your grace. + +KING HENRY VI +Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee: +Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, +But still remember what the Lord hath done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance, +Or of devotion, to this holy shrine? + +SIMPCOX +God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd +A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep, +By good Saint Alban; who said, 'Simpcox, come, +Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.' + +Wife +Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft +Myself have heard a voice to call him so. + +CARDINAL +What, art thou lame? + +SIMPCOX +Ay, God Almighty help me! + +SUFFOLK +How camest thou so? + +SIMPCOX +A fall off of a tree. + +Wife +A plum-tree, master. + +GLOUCESTER +How long hast thou been blind? + +SIMPCOX +Born so, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What, and wouldst climb a tree? + +SIMPCOX +But that in all my life, when I was a youth. + +Wife +Too true; and bought his climbing very dear. + +GLOUCESTER +Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst +venture so. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, +And made me climb, with danger of my life. + +GLOUCESTER +A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve. +Let me see thine eyes: wink now: now open them: +In my opinion yet thou seest not well. + +SIMPCOX +Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and +Saint Alban. + +GLOUCESTER +Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? + +SIMPCOX +Red, master; red as blood. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of? + +SIMPCOX +Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? + +SUFFOLK +And yet, I think, jet did he never see. + +GLOUCESTER +But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. + +Wife +Never, before this day, in all his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +What's his name? + +SIMPCOX +I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +Nor his? + +SIMPCOX +No, indeed, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What's thine own name? + +SIMPCOX +Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. + +GLOUCESTER +Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in +Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou +mightest as well have known all our names as thus to +name the several colours we do wear. Sight may +distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them +all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here +hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his +cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple +to his legs again? + +SIMPCOX +O master, that you could! + +GLOUCESTER +My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in +your town, and things called whips? + +Mayor +Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Then send for one presently. + +Mayor +Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. + +Exit an Attendant + +GLOUCESTER +Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, sirrah, +if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me +over this stool and run away. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone: +You go about to torture me in vain. + +Enter a Beadle with whips + +GLOUCESTER +Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah +beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. + +Beadle +I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your +doublet quickly. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand. + +After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!' + +KING HENRY VI +O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? + +QUEEN MARGARET +It made me laugh to see the villain run. + +GLOUCESTER +Follow the knave; and take this drab away. + +Wife +Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. + +GLOUCESTER +Let them be whipped through every market-town, till +they come to Berwick, from whence they came. + +Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, & c + +CARDINAL +Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day. + +SUFFOLK +True; made the lame to leap and fly away. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have done more miracles than I; +You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM + +KING HENRY VI +What tidings with our cousin Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. +A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, +Under the countenance and confederacy +Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, +The ringleader and head of all this rout, +Have practised dangerously against your state, +Dealing with witches and with conjurers: +Whom we have apprehended in the fact; +Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, +Demanding of King Henry's life and death, +And other of your highness' privy-council; +As more at large your grace shall understand. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] And so, my lord protector, +by this means +Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. +This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge; +'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. + +GLOUCESTER +Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart: +Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers; +And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee, +Or to the meanest groom. + +KING HENRY VI +O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, +Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest. +And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal, +How I have loved my king and commonweal: +And, for my wife, I know not how it stands; +Sorry I am to hear what I have heard: +Noble she is, but if she have forgot +Honour and virtue and conversed with such +As, like to pitch, defile nobility, +I banish her my bed and company +And give her as a prey to law and shame, +That hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. + +KING HENRY VI +Well, for this night we will repose us here: +To-morrow toward London back again, +To look into this business thoroughly +And call these foul offenders to their answers +And poise the cause in justice' equal scales, +Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. YORK'S garden. + +Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK +YORK +Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, +Our simple supper ended, give me leave +In this close walk to satisfy myself, +In craving your opinion of my title, +Which is infallible, to England's crown. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I long to hear it at full. + +WARWICK +Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good, +The Nevils are thy subjects to command. + +YORK +Then thus: +Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons: +The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; +The second, William of Hatfield, and the third, +Lionel Duke of Clarence: next to whom +Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; +The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; +The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; +William of Windsor was the seventh and last. +Edward the Black Prince died before his father +And left behind him Richard, his only son, +Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king; +Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, +The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, +Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth, +Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, +Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came, +And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know, +Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously. + +WARWICK +Father, the duke hath told the truth: +Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. + +YORK +Which now they hold by force and not by right; +For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, +The issue of the next son should have reign'd. + +SALISBURY +But William of Hatfield died without an heir. + +YORK +The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line +I claimed the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter, +Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March: +Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March; +Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor. + +SALISBURY +This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, +As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; +And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, +Who kept him in captivity till he died. +But to the rest. + +YORK +His eldest sister, Anne, +My mother, being heir unto the crown +Married Richard Earl of Cambridge; who was son +To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. +By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir +To Roger Earl of March, who was the son +Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, +Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence: +So, if the issue of the elder son +Succeed before the younger, I am king. + +WARWICK +What plain proceeding is more plain than this? +Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, +The fourth son; York claims it from the third. +Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign: +It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee +And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. +Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; +And in this private plot be we the first +That shall salute our rightful sovereign +With honour of his birthright to the crown. + +BOTH +Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king! + +YORK +We thank you, lords. But I am not your king +Till I be crown'd and that my sword be stain'd +With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; +And that's not suddenly to be perform'd, +But with advice and silent secrecy. +Do you as I do in these dangerous days: +Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, +At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, +At Buckingham and all the crew of them, +Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, +That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey: +'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that +Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. + +SALISBURY +My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full. + +WARWICK +My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick +Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. + +YORK +And, Nevil, this I do assure myself: +Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick +The greatest man in England but the king. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall of justice. + +Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS, MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard +KING HENRY VI +Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife: +In sight of God and us, your guilt is great: +Receive the sentence of the law for sins +Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. +You four, from hence to prison back again; +From thence unto the place of execution: +The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes, +And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. +You, madam, for you are more nobly born, +Despoiled of your honour in your life, +Shall, after three days' open penance done, +Live in your country here in banishment, +With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man. + +DUCHESS +Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death. + +GLOUCESTER +Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath judged thee: +I cannot justify whom the law condemns. + +Exeunt DUCHESS and other prisoners, guarded + +Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. +Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age +Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground! +I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; +Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go, +Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself +Protector be; and God shall be my hope, +My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet: +And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved +Than when thou wert protector to thy King. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I see no reason why a king of years +Should be to be protected like a child. +God and King Henry govern England's realm. +Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm. + +GLOUCESTER +My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: +As willingly do I the same resign +As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; +And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it +As others would ambitiously receive it. +Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, +May honourable peace attend thy throne! + +Exit + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen; +And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, +That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once; +His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off. +This staff of honour raught, there let it stand +Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. + +SUFFOLK +Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; +Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. + +YORK +Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, +This is the day appointed for the combat; +And ready are the appellant and defendant, +The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, +So please your highness to behold the fight. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore +Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried. + +KING HENRY VI +O God's name, see the lists and all things fit: +Here let them end it; and God defend the right! + +YORK +I never saw a fellow worse bested, +Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, +The servant of this armourer, my lords. + +Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters with a drum before him and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sand-bag, and 'Prentices drinking to him + +First Neighbour +Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of +sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. + +Second Neighbour +And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco. + +Third Neighbour +And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour: +drink, and fear not your man. + +HORNER +Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and +a fig for Peter! +First 'Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid. +Second 'Prentice Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight +for credit of the 'prentices. + +PETER +I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray +you; for I think I have taken my last draught in +this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee +my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: +and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O +Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to +deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already. + +SALISBURY +Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. +Sirrah, what's thy name? + +PETER +Peter, forsooth. + +SALISBURY +Peter! what more? + +PETER +Thump. + +SALISBURY +Thump! then see thou thump thy master well. + +HORNER +Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's +instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an +honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will +take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the +king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at +thee with a downright blow! + +YORK +Dispatch: this knave's tongue begins to double. +Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants! + +Alarum. They fight, and PETER strikes him down + +HORNER +Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. + +Dies + +YORK +Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the +good wine in thy master's way. + +PETER +O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence? +O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! + +KING HENRY VI +Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; +For his death we do perceive his guilt: +And God in justice hath revealed to us +The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, +Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully. +Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. + +Sound a flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks +GLOUCESTER +Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; +And after summer evermore succeeds +Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: +So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. +Sirs, what's o'clock? + +Servants +Ten, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Ten is the hour that was appointed me +To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: +Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, +To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. +Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook +The abject people gazing on thy face, +With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, +That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels +When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. +But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare +My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. + +Enter the DUCHESS in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers + +Servant +So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff. + +GLOUCESTER +No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. + +DUCHESS +Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? +Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! +See how the giddy multitude do point, +And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! +Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, +And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, +And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! + +GLOUCESTER +Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. + +DUCHESS +Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! +For whilst I think I am thy married wife +And thou a prince, protector of this land, +Methinks I should not thus be led along, +Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, +And followed with a rabble that rejoice +To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. +The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, +And when I start, the envious people laugh +And bid me be advised how I tread. +Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? +Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, +Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? +No; dark shall be my light and night my day; +To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. +Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, +And he a prince and ruler of the land: +Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was +As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, +Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock +To every idle rascal follower. +But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, +Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death +Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; +For Suffolk, he that can do all in all +With her that hateth thee and hates us all, +And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, +Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings, +And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee: +But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, +Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry; +I must offend before I be attainted; +And had I twenty times so many foes, +And each of them had twenty times their power, +All these could not procure me any scathe, +So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless. +Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? +Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away +But I in danger for the breach of law. +Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell: +I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; +These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. + +Enter a Herald + +Herald +I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, +Holden at Bury the first of this next month. + +GLOUCESTER +And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! +This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. + +Exit Herald + +My Nell, I take my leave: and, master sheriff, +Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. + +Sheriff +An't please your grace, here my commission stays, +And Sir John Stanley is appointed now +To take her with him to the Isle of Man. + +GLOUCESTER +Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? + +STANLEY +So am I given in charge, may't please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Entreat her not the worse in that I pray +You use her well: the world may laugh again; +And I may live to do you kindness if +You do it her: and so, Sir John, farewell! + +DUCHESS +What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell! + +GLOUCESTER +Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Servingmen + +DUCHESS +Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! +For none abides with me: my joy is death; +Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd, +Because I wish'd this world's eternity. +Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence; +I care not whither, for I beg no favour, +Only convey me where thou art commanded. + +STANLEY +Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; +There to be used according to your state. + +DUCHESS +That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: +And shall I then be used reproachfully? + +STANLEY +Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady; +According to that state you shall be used. + +DUCHESS +Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, +Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. + +Sheriff +It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. + +DUCHESS +Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged. +Come, Stanley, shall we go? + +STANLEY +Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, +And go we to attire you for our journey. + +DUCHESS +My shame will not be shifted with my sheet: +No, it will hang upon my richest robes +And show itself, attire me how I can. +Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament +KING HENRY VI +I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come: +'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, +Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Can you not see? or will ye not observe +The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? +With what a majesty he bears himself, +How insolent of late he is become, +How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? +We know the time since he was mild and affable, +And if we did but glance a far-off look, +Immediately he was upon his knee, +That all the court admired him for submission: +But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, +When every one will give the time of day, +He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, +And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, +Disdaining duty that to us belongs. +Small curs are not regarded when they grin; +But great men tremble when the lion roars; +And Humphrey is no little man in England. +First note that he is near you in descent, +And should you fall, he as the next will mount. +Me seemeth then it is no policy, +Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears +And his advantage following your decease, +That he should come about your royal person +Or be admitted to your highness' council. +By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, +And when he please to make commotion, +'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. +Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; +Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden +And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. +The reverent care I bear unto my lord +Made me collect these dangers in the duke. +If it be fond, call it a woman's fear; +Which fear if better reasons can supplant, +I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. +My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, +Reprove my allegation, if you can; +Or else conclude my words effectual. + +SUFFOLK +Well hath your highness seen into this duke; +And, had I first been put to speak my mind, +I think I should have told your grace's tale. +The duchess, by his subornation, +Upon my life, began her devilish practises: +Or, if he were not privy to those faults, +Yet, by reputing of his high descent, +As next the king he was successive heir, +And such high vaunts of his nobility, +Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess +By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. +Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep; +And in his simple show he harbours treason. +The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. +No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man +Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. + +CARDINAL +Did he not, contrary to form of law, +Devise strange deaths for small offences done? + +YORK +And did he not, in his protectorship, +Levy great sums of money through the realm +For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? +By means whereof the towns each day revolted. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown. +Which time will bring to light in smooth +Duke Humphrey. + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, at once: the care you have of us, +To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, +Is worthy praise: but, shall I speak my conscience, +Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent +From meaning treason to our royal person +As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove: +The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given +To dream on evil or to work my downfall. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! +Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, +For he's disposed as the hateful raven: +Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him, +For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. +Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? +Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all +Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. + +Enter SOMERSET + +SOMERSET +All health unto my gracious sovereign! + +KING HENRY VI +Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? + +SOMERSET +That all your interest in those territories +Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. + +KING HENRY VI +Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done! + +YORK +[Aside] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France +As firmly as I hope for fertile England. +Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud +And caterpillars eat my leaves away; +But I will remedy this gear ere long, +Or sell my title for a glorious grave. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +All happiness unto my lord the king! +Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long. + +SUFFOLK +Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, +Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art: +I do arrest thee of high treason here. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush +Nor change my countenance for this arrest: +A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. +The purest spring is not so free from mud +As I am clear from treason to my sovereign: +Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty? + +YORK +'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, +And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay; +By means whereof his highness hath lost France. + +GLOUCESTER +Is it but thought so? what are they that think it? +I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, +Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. +So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, +Ay, night by night, in studying good for England, +That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, +Or any groat I hoarded to my use, +Be brought against me at my trial-day! +No; many a pound of mine own proper store, +Because I would not tax the needy commons, +Have I disbursed to the garrisons, +And never ask'd for restitution. + +CARDINAL +It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. + +GLOUCESTER +I say no more than truth, so help me God! + +YORK +In your protectorship you did devise +Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, +That England was defamed by tyranny. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was +protector, +Pity was all the fault that was in me; +For I should melt at an offender's tears, +And lowly words were ransom for their fault. +Unless it were a bloody murderer, +Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, +I never gave them condign punishment: +Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured +Above the felon or what trespass else. + +SUFFOLK +My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered: +But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, +Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. +I do arrest you in his highness' name; +And here commit you to my lord cardinal +To keep, until your further time of trial. + +KING HENRY VI +My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope +That you will clear yourself from all suspect: +My conscience tells me you are innocent. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous: +Virtue is choked with foul ambition +And charity chased hence by rancour's hand; +Foul subornation is predominant +And equity exiled your highness' land. +I know their complot is to have my life, +And if my death might make this island happy, +And prove the period of their tyranny, +I would expend it with all willingness: +But mine is made the prologue to their play; +For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, +Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. +Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, +And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; +Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue +The envious load that lies upon his heart; +And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, +Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, +By false accuse doth level at my life: +And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, +Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, +And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up +My liefest liege to be mine enemy: +Ay, all you have laid your heads together-- +Myself had notice of your conventicles-- +And all to make away my guiltless life. +I shall not want false witness to condemn me, +Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; +The ancient proverb will be well effected: +'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' + +CARDINAL +My liege, his railing is intolerable: +If those that care to keep your royal person +From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage +Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at, +And the offender granted scope of speech, +'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. + +SUFFOLK +Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here +With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, +As if she had suborned some to swear +False allegations to o'erthrow his state? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But I can give the loser leave to chide. + +GLOUCESTER +Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; +Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! +And well such losers may have leave to speak. + +BUCKINGHAM +He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day: +Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. + +CARDINAL +Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch +Before his legs be firm to bear his body. +Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, +And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. +Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! +For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. + +Exit, guarded + +The Third part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 3 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house. + +Alarum. Enter YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers +WARWICK +I wonder how the king escaped our hands. + +YORK +While we pursued the horsemen of the north, +He slily stole away and left his men: +Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, +Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, +Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, +Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, +Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in +Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. + +EDWARD +Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, +Is either slain or wounded dangerously; +I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: +That this is true, father, behold his blood. + +MONTAGUE +And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, +Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. + +RICHARD +Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. + +Throwing down SOMERSET's head + +YORK +Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. +But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? + +NORFOLK +Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! + +RICHARD +Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. + +WARWICK +And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, +Before I see thee seated in that throne +Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, +I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. +This is the palace of the fearful king, +And this the regal seat: possess it, York; +For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs' + +YORK +Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; +For hither we have broken in by force. + +NORFOLK +We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. + +YORK +Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; +And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. + +They go up + +WARWICK +And when the king comes, offer no violence, +Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. + +YORK +The queen this day here holds her parliament, +But little thinks we shall be of her council: +By words or blows here let us win our right. + +RICHARD +Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. + +WARWICK +The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, +Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, +And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice +Hath made us by-words to our enemies. + +YORK +Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; +I mean to take possession of my right. + +WARWICK +Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, +The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, +Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. +I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: +Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, +Even in the chair of state: belike he means, +Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, +To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. +Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father. +And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge +On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! + +CLIFFORD +The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. + +WESTMORELAND +What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: +My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. + +CLIFFORD +Patience is for poltroons, such as he: +He durst not sit there, had your father lived. +My gracious lord, here in the parliament +Let us assail the family of York. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, know you not the city favours them, +And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? + +EXETER +But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. + +KING HENRY VI +Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, +To make a shambles of the parliament-house! +Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats +Shall be the war that Henry means to use. +Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, +and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; +I am thy sovereign. + +YORK +I am thine. + +EXETER +For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York. + +YORK +'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. + +EXETER +Thy father was a traitor to the crown. + +WARWICK +Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown +In following this usurping Henry. + +CLIFFORD +Whom should he follow but his natural king? + +WARWICK +True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. + +KING HENRY VI +And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? + +YORK +It must and shall be so: content thyself. + +WARWICK +Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. + +WESTMORELAND +He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; +And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. + +WARWICK +And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget +That we are those which chased you from the field +And slew your fathers, and with colours spread +March'd through the city to the palace gates. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; +And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. + +WESTMORELAND +Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, +Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives +Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. + +CLIFFORD +Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, +I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger +As shall revenge his death before I stir. + +WARWICK +Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats! + +YORK +Will you we show our title to the crown? +If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. + +KING HENRY VI +What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? +Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; +Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: +I am the son of Henry the Fifth, +Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop +And seized upon their towns and provinces. + +WARWICK +Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. + +KING HENRY VI +The lord protector lost it, and not I: +When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. + +RICHARD +You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. +Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. + +EDWARD +Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. + +MONTAGUE +Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, +Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. + +RICHARD +Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly. + +YORK +Sons, peace! + +KING HENRY VI +Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. + +WARWICK +Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; +And be you silent and attentive too, +For he that interrupts him shall not live. + +KING HENRY VI +Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, +Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? +No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; +Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, +And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, +Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? +My title's good, and better far than his. + +WARWICK +Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. + +KING HENRY VI +Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. + +YORK +'Twas by rebellion against his king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-- +Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? + +YORK +What then? + +KING HENRY VI +An if he may, then am I lawful king; +For Richard, in the view of many lords, +Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, +Whose heir my father was, and I am his. + +YORK +He rose against him, being his sovereign, +And made him to resign his crown perforce. + +WARWICK +Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd, +Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? + +EXETER +No; for he could not so resign his crown +But that the next heir should succeed and reign. + +KING HENRY VI +Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? + +EXETER +His is the right, and therefore pardon me. + +YORK +Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? + +EXETER +My conscience tells me he is lawful king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, +Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. + +WARWICK +Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power, +Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, +Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, +Can set the duke up in despite of me. + +CLIFFORD +King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, +Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: +May that ground gape and swallow me alive, +Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father! + +KING HENRY VI +O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! + +YORK +Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. +What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? + +WARWICK +Do right unto this princely Duke of York, +Or I will fill the house with armed men, +And over the chair of state, where now he sits, +Write up his title with usurping blood. + +He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves + +KING HENRY VI +My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: +Let me for this my life-time reign as king. + +YORK +Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, +And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. + +KING HENRY VI +I am content: Richard Plantagenet, +Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. + +CLIFFORD +What wrong is this unto the prince your son! + +WARWICK +What good is this to England and himself! + +WESTMORELAND +Base, fearful and despairing Henry! + +CLIFFORD +How hast thou injured both thyself and us! + +WESTMORELAND +I cannot stay to hear these articles. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nor I. + +CLIFFORD +Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news. + +WESTMORELAND +Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, +In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be thou a prey unto the house of York, +And die in bands for this unmanly deed! + +CLIFFORD +In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, +Or live in peace abandon'd and despised! + +Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND + +WARWICK +Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. + +EXETER +They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, Exeter! + +WARWICK +Why should you sigh, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, +Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. +But be it as it may: I here entail +The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; +Conditionally, that here thou take an oath +To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, +To honour me as thy king and sovereign, +And neither by treason nor hostility +To seek to put me down and reign thyself. + +YORK +This oath I willingly take and will perform. + +WARWICK +Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him. + +KING HENRY VI +And long live thou and these thy forward sons! + +YORK +Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. + +EXETER +Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes! + +Sennet. Here they come down + +YORK +Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. + +WARWICK +And I'll keep London with my soldiers. + +NORFOLK +And I to Norfolk with my followers. + +MONTAGUE +And I unto the sea from whence I came. + +Exeunt YORK, EDWARD, EDMUND, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, their Soldiers, and Attendants + +KING HENRY VI +And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +EXETER +Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: +I'll steal away. + +KING HENRY VI +Exeter, so will I. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Who can be patient in such extremes? +Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid +And never seen thee, never borne thee son, +Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father +Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? +Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, +Or felt that pain which I did for him once, +Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood, +Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, +Rather than have that savage duke thine heir +And disinherited thine only son. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Father, you cannot disinherit me: +If you be king, why should not I succeed? + +KING HENRY VI +Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: +The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? +I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! +Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; +And given unto the house of York such head +As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. +To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, +What is it, but to make thy sepulchre +And creep into it far before thy time? +Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; +Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; +The duke is made protector of the realm; +And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds +The trembling lamb environed with wolves. +Had I been there, which am a silly woman, +The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes +Before I would have granted to that act. +But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: +And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself +Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, +Until that act of parliament be repeal'd +Whereby my son is disinherited. +The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours +Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; +And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace +And utter ruin of the house of York. +Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away; +Our army is ready; come, we'll after them. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone. + +KING HENRY VI +Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies. + +PRINCE EDWARD +When I return with victory from the field +I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Come, son, away; we may not linger thus. + +Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +KING HENRY VI +Poor queen! how love to me and to her son +Hath made her break out into terms of rage! +Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, +Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, +Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle +Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! +The loss of those three lords torments my heart: +I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. +Come, cousin you shall be the messenger. + +EXETER +And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Sandal Castle. + +Enter RICHARD, EDWARD, and MONTAGUE +RICHARD +Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. + +EDWARD +No, I can better play the orator. + +MONTAGUE +But I have reasons strong and forcible. + +Enter YORK + +YORK +Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife? +What is your quarrel? how began it first? + +EDWARD +No quarrel, but a slight contention. + +YORK +About what? + +RICHARD +About that which concerns your grace and us; +The crown of England, father, which is yours. + +YORK +Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead. + +RICHARD +Your right depends not on his life or death. + +EDWARD +Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: +By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, +It will outrun you, father, in the end. + +YORK +I took an oath that he should quietly reign. + +EDWARD +But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: +I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. + +RICHARD +No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. + +YORK +I shall be, if I claim by open war. + +RICHARD +I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. + +YORK +Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. + +RICHARD +An oath is of no moment, being not took +Before a true and lawful magistrate, +That hath authority over him that swears: +Henry had none, but did usurp the place; +Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, +Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. +Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think +How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; +Within whose circuit is Elysium +And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. +Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest +Until the white rose that I wear be dyed +Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. + +YORK +Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. +Brother, thou shalt to London presently, +And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. +Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, +And tell him privily of our intent. +You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, +With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: +In them I trust; for they are soldiers, +Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. +While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, +But that I seek occasion how to rise, +And yet the king not privy to my drift, +Nor any of the house of Lancaster? + +Enter a Messenger + +But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post? + +Messenger +The queen with all the northern earls and lords +Intend here to besiege you in your castle: +She is hard by with twenty thousand men; +And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. + +YORK +Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them? +Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; +My brother Montague shall post to London: +Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, +Whom we have left protectors of the king, +With powerful policy strengthen themselves, +And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. + +MONTAGUE +Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: +And thus most humbly I do take my leave. + +Exit + +Enter JOHN MORTIMER and HUGH MORTIMER + +Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, +You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; +The army of the queen mean to besiege us. + +JOHN MORTIMER +She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. + +YORK +What, with five thousand men? + +RICHARD +Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need: +A woman's general; what should we fear? + +A march afar off + +EDWARD +I hear their drums: let's set our men in order, +And issue forth and bid them battle straight. + +YORK +Five men to twenty! though the odds be great, +I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. +Many a battle have I won in France, +When as the enemy hath been ten to one: +Why should I not now have the like success? + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield. + +Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor +RUTLAND +Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? +Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! + +Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. +As for the brat of this accursed duke, +Whose father slew my father, he shall die. + +Tutor +And I, my lord, will bear him company. + +CLIFFORD +Soldiers, away with him! + +Tutor +Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, +Lest thou be hated both of God and man! + +Exit, dragged off by Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +How now! is he dead already? or is it fear +That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. + +RUTLAND +So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch +That trembles under his devouring paws; +And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, +And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. +Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, +And not with such a cruel threatening look. +Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. +I am too mean a subject for thy wrath: +Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. + +CLIFFORD +In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood +Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. + +RUTLAND +Then let my father's blood open it again: +He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. + +CLIFFORD +Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine +Were not revenge sufficient for me; +No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves +And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, +It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. +The sight of any of the house of York +Is as a fury to torment my soul; +And till I root out their accursed line +And leave not one alive, I live in hell. +Therefore-- + +Lifting his hand + +RUTLAND +O, let me pray before I take my death! +To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! + +CLIFFORD +Such pity as my rapier's point affords. + +RUTLAND +I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me? + +CLIFFORD +Thy father hath. + +RUTLAND +But 'twas ere I was born. +Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, +Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, +He be as miserably slain as I. +Ah, let me live in prison all my days; +And when I give occasion of offence, +Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. + +CLIFFORD +No cause! +Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. + +Stabs him + +RUTLAND +Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! + +Dies + +CLIFFORD +Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! +And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade +Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, +Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter YORK +YORK +The army of the queen hath got the field: +My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; +And all my followers to the eager foe +Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind +Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. +My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: +But this I know, they have demean'd themselves +Like men born to renown by life or death. +Three times did Richard make a lane to me. +And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!' +And full as oft came Edward to my side, +With purple falchion, painted to the hilt +In blood of those that had encounter'd him: +And when the hardiest warriors did retire, +Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!' +And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb! +A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!' +With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! +We bodged again; as I have seen a swan +With bootless labour swim against the tide +And spend her strength with over-matching waves. + +A short alarum within + +Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; +And I am faint and cannot fly their fury: +And were I strong, I would not shun their fury: +The sands are number'd that make up my life; +Here must I stay, and here my life must end. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers + +Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, +I dare your quenchless fury to more rage: +I am your butt, and I abide your shot. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. + +CLIFFORD +Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, +With downright payment, show'd unto my father. +Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car, +And made an evening at the noontide prick. + +YORK +My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth +A bird that will revenge upon you all: +And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, +Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. +Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? + +CLIFFORD +So cowards fight when they can fly no further; +So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; +So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, +Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. + +YORK +O Clifford, but bethink thee once again, +And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; +And, if though canst for blushing, view this face, +And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice +Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this! + +CLIFFORD +I will not bandy with thee word for word, +But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes +I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. +Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much +To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: +What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, +For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, +When he might spurn him with his foot away? +It is war's prize to take all vantages; +And ten to one is no impeach of valour. + +They lay hands on YORK, who struggles + +CLIFFORD +Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +So doth the cony struggle in the net. + +YORK +So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; +So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What would your grace have done unto him now? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, +Come, make him stand upon this molehill here, +That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, +Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. +What! was it you that would be England's king? +Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, +And made a preachment of your high descent? +Where are your mess of sons to back you now? +The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? +And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, +Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice +Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? +Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? +Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood +That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, +Made issue from the bosom of the boy; +And if thine eyes can water for his death, +I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. +Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, +I should lament thy miserable state. +I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York. +What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails +That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? +Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad; +And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. +Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. +Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport: +York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown. +A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him: +Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. + +Putting a paper crown on his head + +Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! +Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair, +And this is he was his adopted heir. +But how is it that great Plantagenet +Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? +As I bethink me, you should not be king +Till our King Henry had shook hands with death. +And will you pale your head in Henry's glory, +And rob his temples of the diadem, +Now in his life, against your holy oath? +O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable! +Off with the crown, and with the crown his head; +And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. + +CLIFFORD +That is my office, for my father's sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, stay; lets hear the orisons he makes. + +YORK +She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, +Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! +How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex +To triumph, like an Amazonian trull, +Upon their woes whom fortune captivates! +But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging, +Made impudent with use of evil deeds, +I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. +To tell thee whence thou camest, of whom derived, +Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. +Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, +Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem, +Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. +Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? +It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, +Unless the adage must be verified, +That beggars mounted run their horse to death. +'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; +But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: +'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; +The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: +'Tis government that makes them seem divine; +The want thereof makes thee abominable: +Thou art as opposite to every good +As the Antipodes are unto us, +Or as the south to the septentrion. +O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide! +How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child, +To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, +And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? +Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; +Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. +Bids't thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: +Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: +For raging wind blows up incessant showers, +And when the rage allays, the rain begins. +These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies: +And every drop cries vengeance for his death, +'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false +Frenchwoman. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so +That hardly can I cheque my eyes from tears. + +YORK +That face of his the hungry cannibals +Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: +But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, +O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania. +See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: +This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy, +And I with tears do wash the blood away. +Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: +And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, +Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears; +Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, +And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!' +There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; +And in thy need such comfort come to thee +As now I reap at thy too cruel hand! +Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: +My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin, +I should not for my life but weep with him. +To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland? +Think but upon the wrong he did us all, +And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. + +CLIFFORD +Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. + +Stabbing him + +QUEEN MARGARET +And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. + +Stabbing him + +YORK +Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God! +My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. + +Dies + +QUEEN MARGARET +Off with his head, and set it on York gates; +So York may overlook the town of York. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire. + +A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power +EDWARD +I wonder how our princely father 'scaped, +Or whether he be 'scaped away or no +From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit: +Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; +Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; +Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard +The happy tidings of his good escape. +How fares my brother? why is he so sad? + +RICHARD +I cannot joy, until I be resolved +Where our right valiant father is become. +I saw him in the battle range about; +And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth. +Methought he bore him in the thickest troop +As doth a lion in a herd of neat; +Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, +Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry, +The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. +So fared our father with his enemies; +So fled his enemies my warlike father: +Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. +See how the morning opes her golden gates, +And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! +How well resembles it the prime of youth, +Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! + +EDWARD +Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? + +RICHARD +Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; +Not separated with the racking clouds, +But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky. +See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, +As if they vow'd some league inviolable: +Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. +In this the heaven figures some event. + +EDWARD +'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. +I think it cites us, brother, to the field, +That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, +Each one already blazing by our meeds, +Should notwithstanding join our lights together +And over-shine the earth as this the world. +Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear +Upon my target three fair-shining suns. + +RICHARD +Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it, +You love the breeder better than the male. + +Enter a Messenger + +But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell +Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? + +Messenger +Ah, one that was a woful looker-on +When as the noble Duke of York was slain, +Your princely father and my loving lord! + +EDWARD +O, speak no more, for I have heard too much. + +RICHARD +Say how he died, for I will hear it all. + +Messenger +Environed he was with many foes, +And stood against them, as the hope of Troy +Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy. +But Hercules himself must yield to odds; +And many strokes, though with a little axe, +Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. +By many hands your father was subdued; +But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm +Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen, +Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite, +Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept, +The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks +A napkin steeped in the harmless blood +Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: +And after many scorns, many foul taunts, +They took his head, and on the gates of York +They set the same; and there it doth remain, +The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. + +EDWARD +Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, +Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. +O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain +The flower of Europe for his chivalry; +And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, +For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. +Now my soul's palace is become a prison: +Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body +Might in the ground be closed up in rest! +For never henceforth shall I joy again, +Never, O never shall I see more joy! + +RICHARD +I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture +Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: +Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; +For selfsame wind that I should speak withal +Is kindling coals that fires all my breast, +And burns me up with flames that tears would quench. +To weep is to make less the depth of grief: +Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me +Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death, +Or die renowned by attempting it. + +EDWARD +His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; +His dukedom and his chair with me is left. + +RICHARD +Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, +Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun: +For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say; +Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. + +March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army + +WARWICK +How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad? + +RICHARD +Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount +Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance +Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, +The words would add more anguish than the wounds. +O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain! + +EDWARD +O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet, +Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption, +Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. + +WARWICK +Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; +And now, to add more measure to your woes, +I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. +After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, +Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, +Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, +Were brought me of your loss and his depart. +I, then in London keeper of the king, +Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, +And very well appointed, as I thought, +March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, +Bearing the king in my behalf along; +For by my scouts I was advertised +That she was coming with a full intent +To dash our late decree in parliament +Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. +Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met +Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: +But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, +Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, +That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; +Or whether 'twas report of her success; +Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, +Who thunders to his captives blood and death, +I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, +Their weapons like to lightning came and went; +Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, +Or like an idle thresher with a flail, +Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. +I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, +With promise of high pay and great rewards: +But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, +And we in them no hope to win the day; +So that we fled; the king unto the queen; +Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, +In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: +For in the marches here we heard you were, +Making another head to fight again. + +EDWARD +Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? +And when came George from Burgundy to England? + +WARWICK +Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers; +And for your brother, he was lately sent +From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy, +With aid of soldiers to this needful war. + +RICHARD +'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled: +Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, +But ne'er till now his scandal of retire. + +WARWICK +Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear; +For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine +Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, +And wring the awful sceptre from his fist, +Were he as famous and as bold in war +As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. + +RICHARD +I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not: +'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak. +But in this troublous time what's to be done? +Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, +And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, +Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads? +Or shall we on the helmets of our foes +Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? +If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords. + +WARWICK +Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; +And therefore comes my brother Montague. +Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, +With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, +And of their feather many more proud birds, +Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. +He swore consent to your succession, +His oath enrolled in the parliament; +And now to London all the crew are gone, +To frustrate both his oath and what beside +May make against the house of Lancaster. +Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: +Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, +With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, +Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, +Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, +Why, Via! to London will we march amain, +And once again bestride our foaming steeds, +And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!' +But never once again turn back and fly. + +RICHARD +Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak: +Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, +That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay. + +EDWARD +Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; +And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!-- +Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! + +WARWICK +No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York: +The next degree is England's royal throne; +For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd +In every borough as we pass along; +And he that throws not up his cap for joy +Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. +King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, +Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown, +But sound the trumpets, and about our task. + +RICHARD +Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, +As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, +I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. + +EDWARD +Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us! + +Enter a Messenger + +WARWICK +How now! what news? + +Messenger +The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, +The queen is coming with a puissant host; +And craves your company for speedy counsel. + +WARWICK +Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before York. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets +QUEEN MARGARET +Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. +Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy +That sought to be encompass'd with your crown: +Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck: +To see this sight, it irks my very soul. +Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault, +Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow. + +CLIFFORD +My gracious liege, this too much lenity +And harmful pity must be laid aside. +To whom do lions cast their gentle looks? +Not to the beast that would usurp their den. +Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? +Not his that spoils her young before her face. +Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? +Not he that sets his foot upon her back. +The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, +And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. +Ambitious York doth level at thy crown, +Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows: +He, but a duke, would have his son a king, +And raise his issue, like a loving sire; +Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son, +Didst yield consent to disinherit him, +Which argued thee a most unloving father. +Unreasonable creatures feed their young; +And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, +Yet, in protection of their tender ones, +Who hath not seen them, even with those wings +Which sometime they have used with fearful flight, +Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, +Offer their own lives in their young's defence? +For shame, my liege, make them your precedent! +Were it not pity that this goodly boy +Should lose his birthright by his father's fault, +And long hereafter say unto his child, +'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got +My careless father fondly gave away'? +Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; +And let his manly face, which promiseth +Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart +To hold thine own and leave thine own with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, +Inferring arguments of mighty force. +But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear +That things ill-got had ever bad success? +And happy always was it for that son +Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? +I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; +And would my father had left me no more! +For all the rest is held at such a rate +As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep +Than in possession and jot of pleasure. +Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know +How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, +And this soft courage makes your followers faint. +You promised knighthood to our forward son: +Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. +Edward, kneel down. + +KING HENRY VI +Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; +And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right. + +PRINCE +My gracious father, by your kingly leave, +I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, +And in that quarrel use it to the death. + +CLIFFORD +Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Royal commanders, be in readiness: +For with a band of thirty thousand men +Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York; +And in the towns, as they do march along, +Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: +Darraign your battle, for they are at hand. + +CLIFFORD +I would your highness would depart the field: +The queen hath best success when you are absent. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be it with resolution then to fight. + +PRINCE EDWARD +My royal father, cheer these noble lords +And hearten those that fight in your defence: +Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!' + +March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace, +And set thy diadem upon my head; +Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy! +Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms +Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? + +EDWARD +I am his king, and he should bow his knee; +I was adopted heir by his consent: +Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, +You, that are king, though he do wear the crown, +Have caused him, by new act of parliament, +To blot out me, and put his own son in. + +CLIFFORD +And reason too: +Who should succeed the father but the son? + +RICHARD +Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak! + +CLIFFORD +Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee, +Or any he the proudest of thy sort. + +RICHARD +'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? + +CLIFFORD +Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. + +WARWICK +What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak? +When you and I met at Saint Alban's last, +Your legs did better service than your hands. + +WARWICK +Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. + +CLIFFORD +You said so much before, and yet you fled. + +WARWICK +'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay. + +RICHARD +Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. +Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain +The execution of my big-swoln heart +Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. + +CLIFFORD +I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child? + +RICHARD +Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, +As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; +But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. + +KING HENRY VI +Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, give no limits to my tongue: +I am a king, and privileged to speak. + +CLIFFORD +My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here +Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still. + +RICHARD +Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword: +By him that made us all, I am resolved +that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. + +EDWARD +Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? +A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, +That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. + +WARWICK +If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; +For York in justice puts his armour on. + +PRINCE EDWARD +If that be right which Warwick says is right, +There is no wrong, but every thing is right. + +RICHARD +Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; +For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam; +But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic, +Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided, +As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings. + +RICHARD +Iron of Naples hid with English gilt, +Whose father bears the title of a king,-- +As if a channel should be call'd the sea,-- +Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught, +To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? + +EDWARD +A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns, +To make this shameless callet know herself. +Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, +Although thy husband may be Menelaus; +And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd +By that false woman, as this king by thee. +His father revell'd in the heart of France, +And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop; +And had he match'd according to his state, +He might have kept that glory to this day; +But when he took a beggar to his bed, +And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day, +Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him, +That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, +And heap'd sedition on his crown at home. +For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride? +Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; +And we, in pity of the gentle king, +Had slipp'd our claim until another age. + +GEORGE +But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, +And that thy summer bred us no increase, +We set the axe to thy usurping root; +And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, +Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike, +We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down, +Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. + +EDWARD +And, in this resolution, I defy thee; +Not willing any longer conference, +Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak. +Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave! +And either victory, or else a grave. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Stay, Edward. + +EDWARD +No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay: +These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in +Yorkshire. + +Alarum. Excursions. Enter WARWICK + +WARWICK +Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, +I lay me down a little while to breathe; +For strokes received, and many blows repaid, +Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength, +And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. + +Enter EDWARD, running + +EDWARD +Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death! +For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. + +WARWICK +How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good? + +Enter GEORGE + +GEORGE +Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; +Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us: +What counsel give you? whither shall we fly? + +EDWARD +Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings; +And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. + +Enter RICHARD + +RICHARD +Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? +Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, +Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance; +And in the very pangs of death he cried, +Like to a dismal clangour heard from far, +'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!' +So, underneath the belly of their steeds, +That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood, +The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. + +WARWICK +Then let the earth be drunken with our blood: +I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. +Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, +Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage; +And look upon, as if the tragedy +Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors? +Here on my knee I vow to God above, +I'll never pause again, never stand still, +Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine +Or fortune given me measure of revenge. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine; +And in this vow do chain my soul to thine! +And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face, +I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee, +Thou setter up and plucker down of kings, +Beseeching thee, if with they will it stands +That to my foes this body must be prey, +Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope, +And give sweet passage to my sinful soul! +Now, lords, take leave until we meet again, +Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth. + +RICHARD +Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, +Let me embrace thee in my weary arms: +I, that did never weep, now melt with woe +That winter should cut off our spring-time so. + +WARWICK +Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell. + +GEORGE +Yet let us all together to our troops, +And give them leave to fly that will not stay; +And call them pillars that will stand to us; +And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards +As victors wear at the Olympian games: +This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; +For yet is hope of life and victory. +Forslow no longer, make we hence amain. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD +RICHARD +Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: +Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York, +And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, +Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall. + +CLIFFORD +Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: +This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York; +And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland; +And here's the heart that triumphs in their death +And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother +To execute the like upon thyself; +And so, have at thee! + +They fight. WARWICK comes; CLIFFORD flies + +RICHARD +Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; +For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone +KING HENRY VI +This battle fares like to the morning's war, +When dying clouds contend with growing light, +What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, +Can neither call it perfect day nor night. +Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea +Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; +Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea +Forced to retire by fury of the wind: +Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; +Now one the better, then another best; +Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, +Yet neither conqueror nor conquered: +So is the equal of this fell war. +Here on this molehill will I sit me down. +To whom God will, there be the victory! +For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, +Have chid me from the battle; swearing both +They prosper best of all when I am thence. +Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; +For what is in this world but grief and woe? +O God! methinks it were a happy life, +To be no better than a homely swain; +To sit upon a hill, as I do now, +To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, +Thereby to see the minutes how they run, +How many make the hour full complete; +How many hours bring about the day; +How many days will finish up the year; +How many years a mortal man may live. +When this is known, then to divide the times: +So many hours must I tend my flock; +So many hours must I take my rest; +So many hours must I contemplate; +So many hours must I sport myself; +So many days my ewes have been with young; +So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean: +So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: +So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, +Pass'd over to the end they were created, +Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. +Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! +Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade +To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, +Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy +To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? +O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. +And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, +His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle. +His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, +All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, +Is far beyond a prince's delicates, +His viands sparkling in a golden cup, +His body couched in a curious bed, +When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. + +Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body + +Son +Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. +This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, +May be possessed with some store of crowns; +And I, that haply take them from him now, +May yet ere night yield both my life and them +To some man else, as this dead man doth me. +Who's this? O God! it is my father's face, +Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd. +O heavy times, begetting such events! +From London by the king was I press'd forth; +My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, +Came on the part of York, press'd by his master; +And I, who at his hands received my life, him +Have by my hands of life bereaved him. +Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! +And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! +My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; +And no more words till they have flow'd their fill. + +KING HENRY VI +O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! +Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, +Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. +Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear; +And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, +Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief. + +Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body + +Father +Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, +Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold: +For I have bought it with an hundred blows. +But let me see: is this our foeman's face? +Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! +Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, +Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise, +Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, +Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart! +O, pity, God, this miserable age! +What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, +Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural, +This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! +O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, +And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! + +KING HENRY VI +Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! +O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! +O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! +The red rose and the white are on his face, +The fatal colours of our striving houses: +The one his purple blood right well resembles; +The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth: +Wither one rose, and let the other flourish; +If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. + +Son +How will my mother for a father's death +Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied! + +Father +How will my wife for slaughter of my son +Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! + +KING HENRY VI +How will the country for these woful chances +Misthink the king and not be satisfied! + +Son +Was ever son so rued a father's death? + +Father +Was ever father so bemoan'd his son? + +KING HENRY VI +Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? +Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. + +Son +I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. + +Exit with the body + +Father +These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet; +My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre, +For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go; +My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; +And so obsequious will thy father be, +Even for the loss of thee, having no more, +As Priam was for all his valiant sons. +I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, +For I have murdered where I should not kill. + +Exit with the body + +KING HENRY VI +Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, +Here sits a king more woful than you are. + +Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER + +PRINCE EDWARD +Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, +And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: +Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain: +Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds +Having the fearful flying hare in sight, +With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath, +And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, +Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. + +EXETER +Away! for vengeance comes along with them: +Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; +Or else come after: I'll away before. + +KING HENRY VI +Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter: +Not that I fear to stay, but love to go +Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Another part of the field. + +A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded +CLIFFORD +Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, +Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light. +O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow +More than my body's parting with my soul! +My love and fear glued many friends to thee; +And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts. +Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York, +The common people swarm like summer flies; +And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? +And who shines now but Henry's enemies? +O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent +That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds, +Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth! +And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, +Or as thy father and his father did, +Giving no ground unto the house of York, +They never then had sprung like summer flies; +I and ten thousand in this luckless realm +Had left no mourning widows for our death; +And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. +For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? +And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? +Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; +No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: +The foe is merciless, and will not pity; +For at their hands I have deserved no pity. +The air hath got into my deadly wounds, +And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. +Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest; +I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. + +He faints + +Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, +And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. +Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen, +That led calm Henry, though he were a king, +As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, +Command an argosy to stem the waves. +But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? + +WARWICK +No, 'tis impossible he should escape, +For, though before his face I speak the words +Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: +And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. + +CLIFFORD groans, and dies + +EDWARD +Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? + +RICHARD +A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. + +EDWARD +See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, +If friend or foe, let him be gently used. + +RICHARD +Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; +Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch +In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, +But set his murdering knife unto the root +From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, +I mean our princely father, Duke of York. + +WARWICK +From off the gates of York fetch down the head, +Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; +Instead whereof let this supply the room: +Measure for measure must be answered. + +EDWARD +Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, +That nothing sung but death to us and ours: +Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, +And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. + +WARWICK +I think his understanding is bereft. +Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? +Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, +And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. + +RICHARD +O, would he did! and so perhaps he doth: +'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, +Because he would avoid such bitter taunts +Which in the time of death he gave our father. + +GEORGE +If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. + +RICHARD +Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. + +EDWARD +Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. + +WARWICK +Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. + +GEORGE +While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. + +RICHARD +Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. + +EDWARD +Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. + +GEORGE +Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? + +WARWICK +They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont. + +RICHARD +What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard +When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. +I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, +If this right hand would buy two hour's life, +That I in all despite might rail at him, +This hand should chop it off, and with the +issuing blood +Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst +York and young Rutland could not satisfy. + +WARWICK +Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head, +And rear it in the place your father's stands. +And now to London with triumphant march, +There to be crowned England's royal king: +From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France, +And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen: +So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; +And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread +The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; +For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, +Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. +First will I see the coronation; +And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea, +To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. + +EDWARD +Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; +For in thy shoulder do I build my seat, +And never will I undertake the thing +Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. +Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, +And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself, +Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. + +RICHARD +Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester; +For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. + +WARWICK +Tut, that's a foolish observation: +Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, +To see these honours in possession. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A forest in the north of England. + +Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands +First Keeper +Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; +For through this laund anon the deer will come; +And in this covert will we make our stand, +Culling the principal of all the deer. + +Second Keeper +I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. + +First Keeper +That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow +Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. +Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: +And, for the time shall not seem tedious, +I'll tell thee what befell me on a day +In this self-place where now we mean to stand. + +Second Keeper +Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, disguised, with a prayerbook + +KING HENRY VI +From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, +To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. +No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; +Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, +Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: +No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, +No humble suitors press to speak for right, +No, not a man comes for redress of thee; +For how can I help them, and not myself? + +First Keeper +Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: +This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. + +KING HENRY VI +Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, +For wise men say it is the wisest course. + +Second Keeper +Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. + +First Keeper +Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. + +KING HENRY VI +My queen and son are gone to France for aid; +And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick +Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister +To wife for Edward: if this news be true, +Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; +For Warwick is a subtle orator, +And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. +By this account then Margaret may win him; +For she's a woman to be pitied much: +Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; +Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; +The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; +And Nero will be tainted with remorse, +To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. +Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give; +She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, +He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. +She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; +He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd; +That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; +Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, +Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, +And in conclusion wins the king from her, +With promise of his sister, and what else, +To strengthen and support King Edward's place. +O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, +Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn! + +Second Keeper +Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? + +KING HENRY VI +More than I seem, and less than I was born to: +A man at least, for less I should not be; +And men may talk of kings, and why not I? + +Second Keeper +Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. + +Second Keeper +But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? + +KING HENRY VI +My crown is in my heart, not on my head; +Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, +Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: +A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. + +Second Keeper +Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, +Your crown content and you must be contented +To go along with us; for as we think, +You are the king King Edward hath deposed; +And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance +Will apprehend you as his enemy. + +KING HENRY VI +But did you never swear, and break an oath? + +Second Keeper +No, never such an oath; nor will not now. + +KING HENRY VI +Where did you dwell when I was King of England? + +Second Keeper +Here in this country, where we now remain. + +KING HENRY VI +I was anointed king at nine months old; +My father and my grandfather were kings, +And you were sworn true subjects unto me: +And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? + +First Keeper +No; +For we were subjects but while you were king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? +Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! +Look, as I blow this feather from my face, +And as the air blows it to me again, +Obeying with my wind when I do blow, +And yielding to another when it blows, +Commanded always by the greater gust; +Such is the lightness of you common men. +But do not break your oaths; for of that sin +My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. +Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; +And be you kings, command, and I'll obey. + +First Keeper +We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. + +KING HENRY VI +So would you be again to Henry, +If he were seated as King Edward is. + +First Keeper +We charge you, in God's name, and the king's, +To go with us unto the officers. + +KING HENRY VI +In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: +And what God will, that let your king perform; +And what he will, I humbly yield unto. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY +KING EDWARD IV +Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field +This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, +His lands then seized on by the conqueror: +Her suit is now to repossess those lands; +Which we in justice cannot well deny, +Because in quarrel of the house of York +The worthy gentleman did lose his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; +It were dishonour to deny it her. + +KING EDWARD IV +It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so? +I see the lady hath a thing to grant, +Before the king will grant her humble suit. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game: how true +he keeps the wind! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Silence! + +KING EDWARD IV +Widow, we will consider of your suit; +And come some other time to know our mind. + +LADY GREY +Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: +May it please your highness to resolve me now; +And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant +you all your lands, +An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. +Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she +chance to fall. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that! for he'll +take vantages. + +KING EDWARD IV +How many children hast thou, widow? tell me. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a +child of her. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, whip me then: he'll rather +give her two. + +LADY GREY +Three, my most gracious lord. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] You shall have four, if you'll +be ruled by him. + +KING EDWARD IV +'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. + +LADY GREY +Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. + +KING EDWARD IV +Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, good leave have you; for +you will have leave, +Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. + +GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE retire + +KING EDWARD IV +Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? + +LADY GREY +Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. + +KING EDWARD IV +And would you not do much to do them good? + +LADY GREY +To do them good, I would sustain some harm. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. + +LADY GREY +Therefore I came unto your majesty. + +KING EDWARD IV +I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. + +LADY GREY +So shall you bind me to your highness' service. + +KING EDWARD IV +What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? + +LADY GREY +What you command, that rests in me to do. + +KING EDWARD IV +But you will take exceptions to my boon. + +LADY GREY +No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. + +LADY GREY +Why, then I will do what your grace commands. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] He plies her hard; and much rain +wears the marble. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] As red as fire! nay, then +her wax must melt. + +LADY GREY +Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task? + +KING EDWARD IV +An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. + +LADY GREY +That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. + +LADY GREY +I take my leave with many thousand thanks. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The match is made; she seals it +with a curtsy. + +KING EDWARD IV +But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean. + +LADY GREY +The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. +What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? + +LADY GREY +My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers; +That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. + +KING EDWARD IV +No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. + +LADY GREY +Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. + +KING EDWARD IV +But now you partly may perceive my mind. + +LADY GREY +My mind will never grant what I perceive +Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. + +KING EDWARD IV +To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. + +LADY GREY +To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. + +LADY GREY +Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; +For by that loss I will not purchase them. + +KING EDWARD IV +Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. + +LADY GREY +Herein your highness wrongs both them and me. +But, mighty lord, this merry inclination +Accords not with the sadness of my suit: +Please you dismiss me either with 'ay' or 'no.' + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request; +No if thou dost say 'no' to my demand. + +LADY GREY +Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The widow likes him not, she +knits her brows. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He is the bluntest wooer in +Christendom. + +KING EDWARD IV +[Aside] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty; +Her words do show her wit incomparable; +All her perfections challenge sovereignty: +One way or other, she is for a king; +And she shall be my love, or else my queen.-- +Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? + +LADY GREY +'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord: +I am a subject fit to jest withal, +But far unfit to be a sovereign. + +KING EDWARD IV +Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee +I speak no more than what my soul intends; +And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. + +LADY GREY +And that is more than I will yield unto: +I know I am too mean to be your queen, +And yet too good to be your concubine. + +KING EDWARD IV +You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen. + +LADY GREY +'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father. + +KING EDWARD IV +No more than when my daughters call thee mother. +Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; +And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, +Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing +To be the father unto many sons. +Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The ghostly father now hath done +his shrift. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] When he was made a shriver, +'twas for shift. + +KING EDWARD IV +Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. + +GLOUCESTER +The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. + +KING EDWARD IV +You'll think it strange if I should marry her. + +CLARENCE +To whom, my lord? + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, Clarence, to myself. + +GLOUCESTER +That would be ten days' wonder at the least. + +CLARENCE +That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. + +GLOUCESTER +By so much is the wonder in extremes. + +KING EDWARD IV +Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both +Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. + +Enter a Nobleman + +Nobleman +My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, +And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. + +KING EDWARD IV +See that he be convey'd unto the Tower: +And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, +To question of his apprehension. +Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, Edward will use women honourably. +Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all, +That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, +To cross me from the golden time I look for! +And yet, between my soul's desire and me-- +The lustful Edward's title buried-- +Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward, +And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies, +To take their rooms, ere I can place myself: +A cold premeditation for my purpose! +Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty; +Like one that stands upon a promontory, +And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, +Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, +And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, +Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: +So do I wish the crown, being so far off; +And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; +And so I say, I'll cut the causes off, +Flattering me with impossibilities. +My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, +Unless my hand and strength could equal them. +Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard; +What other pleasure can the world afford? +I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, +And deck my body in gay ornaments, +And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. +O miserable thought! and more unlikely +Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! +Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: +And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, +She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe, +To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; +To make an envious mountain on my back, +Where sits deformity to mock my body; +To shape my legs of an unequal size; +To disproportion me in every part, +Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp +That carries no impression like the dam. +And am I then a man to be beloved? +O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! +Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, +But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such +As are of better person than myself, +I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, +And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell, +Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head +Be round impaled with a glorious crown. +And yet I know not how to get the crown, +For many lives stand between me and home: +And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood, +That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns, +Seeking a way and straying from the way; +Not knowing how to find the open air, +But toiling desperately to find it out,-- +Torment myself to catch the English crown: +And from that torment I will free myself, +Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. +Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, +And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart, +And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, +And frame my face to all occasions. +I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; +I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; +I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, +Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, +And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. +I can add colours to the chameleon, +Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, +And set the murderous Machiavel to school. +Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? +Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. + +Exit + +The Life of King Henry the Eighth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VIII | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +I come no more to make you laugh: things now, +That bear a weighty and a serious brow, +Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, +Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, +We now present. Those that can pity, here +May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; +The subject will deserve it. Such as give +Their money out of hope they may believe, +May here find truth too. Those that come to see +Only a show or two, and so agree +The play may pass, if they be still and willing, +I'll undertake may see away their shilling +Richly in two short hours. Only they +That come to hear a merry bawdy play, +A noise of targets, or to see a fellow +In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, +Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, +To rank our chosen truth with such a show +As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting +Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, +To make that only true we now intend, +Will leave us never an understanding friend. +Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known +The first and happiest hearers of the town, +Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see +The very persons of our noble story +As they were living; think you see them great, +And follow'd with the general throng and sweat +Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see +How soon this mightiness meets misery: +And, if you can be merry then, I'll say +A man may weep upon his wedding-day. + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM and ABERGAVENNY +BUCKINGHAM +Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done +Since last we saw in France? + +NORFOLK +I thank your grace, +Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer +Of what I saw there. + +BUCKINGHAM +An untimely ague +Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when +Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, +Met in the vale of Andren. + +NORFOLK +'Twixt Guynes and Arde: +I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; +Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung +In their embracement, as they grew together; +Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd +Such a compounded one? + +BUCKINGHAM +All the whole time +I was my chamber's prisoner. + +NORFOLK +Then you lost +The view of earthly glory: men might say, +Till this time pomp was single, but now married +To one above itself. Each following day +Became the next day's master, till the last +Made former wonders its. To-day the French, +All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, +Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they +Made Britain India: every man that stood +Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were +As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too, +Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear +The pride upon them, that their very labour +Was to them as a painting: now this masque +Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night +Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, +Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, +As presence did present them; him in eye, +Still him in praise: and, being present both +'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner +Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-- +For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged +The noble spirits to arms, they did perform +Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, +Being now seen possible enough, got credit, +That Bevis was believed. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, you go far. + +NORFOLK +As I belong to worship and affect +In honour honesty, the tract of every thing +Would by a good discourser lose some life, +Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; +To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. +Order gave each thing view; the office did +Distinctly his full function. + +BUCKINGHAM +Who did guide, +I mean, who set the body and the limbs +Of this great sport together, as you guess? + +NORFOLK +One, certes, that promises no element +In such a business. + +BUCKINGHAM +I pray you, who, my lord? + +NORFOLK +All this was order'd by the good discretion +Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. + +BUCKINGHAM +The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed +From his ambitious finger. What had he +To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder +That such a keech can with his very bulk +Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun +And keep it from the earth. + +NORFOLK +Surely, sir, +There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; +For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace +Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon +For high feats done to the crown; neither allied +For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, +Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, +The force of his own merit makes his way +A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys +A place next to the king. + +ABERGAVENNY +I cannot tell +What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye +Pierce into that; but I can see his pride +Peep through each part of him: whence has he that, +If not from hell? the devil is a niggard, +Or has given all before, and he begins +A new hell in himself. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why the devil, +Upon this French going out, took he upon him, +Without the privity o' the king, to appoint +Who should attend on him? He makes up the file +Of all the gentry; for the most part such +To whom as great a charge as little honour +He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, +The honourable board of council out, +Must fetch him in the papers. + +ABERGAVENNY +I do know +Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have +By this so sickened their estates, that never +They shall abound as formerly. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, many +Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em +For this great journey. What did this vanity +But minister communication of +A most poor issue? + +NORFOLK +Grievingly I think, +The peace between the French and us not values +The cost that did conclude it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Every man, +After the hideous storm that follow'd, was +A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke +Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, +Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded +The sudden breach on't. + +NORFOLK +Which is budded out; +For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd +Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. + +ABERGAVENNY +Is it therefore +The ambassador is silenced? + +NORFOLK +Marry, is't. + +ABERGAVENNY +A proper title of a peace; and purchased +At a superfluous rate! + +BUCKINGHAM +Why, all this business +Our reverend cardinal carried. + +NORFOLK +Like it your grace, +The state takes notice of the private difference +Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you-- +And take it from a heart that wishes towards you +Honour and plenteous safety--that you read +The cardinal's malice and his potency +Together; to consider further that +What his high hatred would effect wants not +A minister in his power. You know his nature, +That he's revengeful, and I know his sword +Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, +It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, +Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, +You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock +That I advise your shunning. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? +Where's his examination? + +First Secretary +Here, so please you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he in person ready? + +First Secretary +Ay, please your grace. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham +Shall lessen this big look. + +Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train + +BUCKINGHAM +This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I +Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best +Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book +Outworths a noble's blood. + +NORFOLK +What, are you chafed? +Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only +Which your disease requires. + +BUCKINGHAM +I read in's looks +Matter against me; and his eye reviled +Me, as his abject object: at this instant +He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; +I'll follow and outstare him. + +NORFOLK +Stay, my lord, +And let your reason with your choler question +What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills +Requires slow pace at first: anger is like +A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, +Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England +Can advise me like you: be to yourself +As you would to your friend. + +BUCKINGHAM +I'll to the king; +And from a mouth of honour quite cry down +This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim +There's difference in no persons. + +NORFOLK +Be advised; +Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot +That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, +By violent swiftness, that which we run at, +And lose by over-running. Know you not, +The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, +In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: +I say again, there is no English soul +More stronger to direct you than yourself, +If with the sap of reason you would quench, +Or but allay, the fire of passion. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir, +I am thankful to you; and I'll go along +By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, +Whom from the flow of gall I name not but +From sincere motions, by intelligence, +And proofs as clear as founts in July when +We see each grain of gravel, I do know +To be corrupt and treasonous. + +NORFOLK +Say not 'treasonous.' + +BUCKINGHAM +To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong +As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, +Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous +As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief +As able to perform't; his mind and place +Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-- +Only to show his pomp as well in France +As here at home, suggests the king our master +To this last costly treaty, the interview, +That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass +Did break i' the rinsing. + +NORFOLK +Faith, and so it did. + +BUCKINGHAM +Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal +The articles o' the combination drew +As himself pleased; and they were ratified +As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end +As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal +Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, +Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,-- +Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy +To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor, +Under pretence to see the queen his aunt-- +For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came +To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation: +His fears were, that the interview betwixt +England and France might, through their amity, +Breed him some prejudice; for from this league +Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily +Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-- +Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor +Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted +Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, +And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, +That he would please to alter the king's course, +And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, +As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal +Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, +And for his own advantage. + +NORFOLK +I am sorry +To hear this of him; and could wish he were +Something mistaken in't. + +BUCKINGHAM +No, not a syllable: +I do pronounce him in that very shape +He shall appear in proof. + +Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and two or three of the Guard + +BRANDON +Your office, sergeant; execute it. + +Sergeant +Sir, +My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl +Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I +Arrest thee of high treason, in the name +Of our most sovereign king. + +BUCKINGHAM +Lo, you, my lord, +The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish +Under device and practise. + +BRANDON +I am sorry +To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on +The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure +You shall to the Tower. + +BUCKINGHAM +It will help me nothing +To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me +Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven +Be done in this and all things! I obey. +O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! + +BRANDON +Nay, he must bear you company. The king + +To ABERGAVENNY + +Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know +How he determines further. + +ABERGAVENNY +As the duke said, +The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure +By me obey'd! + +BRANDON +Here is a warrant from +The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies +Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, +One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-- + +BUCKINGHAM +So, so; +These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. + +BRANDON +A monk o' the Chartreux. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, Nicholas Hopkins? + +BRANDON +He. + +BUCKINGHAM +My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal +Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: +I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, +Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, +By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The council-chamber. + +Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY VIII's feet on his right side +KING HENRY VIII +My life itself, and the best heart of it, +Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level +Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks +To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us +That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person +I'll hear him his confessions justify; +And point by point the treasons of his master +He shall again relate. + +A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. + +KING HENRY VIII +Arise, and take place by us: half your suit +Never name to us; you have half our power: +The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; +Repeat your will and take it. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Thank your majesty. +That you would love yourself, and in that love +Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor +The dignity of your office, is the point +Of my petition. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lady mine, proceed. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am solicited, not by a few, +And those of true condition, that your subjects +Are in great grievance: there have been commissions +Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart +Of all their loyalties: wherein, although, +My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches +Most bitterly on you, as putter on +Of these exactions, yet the king our master-- +Whose honour heaven shield from soil!--even he +escapes not +Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks +The sides of loyalty, and almost appears +In loud rebellion. + +NORFOLK +Not almost appears, +It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, +The clothiers all, not able to maintain +The many to them longing, have put off +The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, +Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger +And lack of other means, in desperate manner +Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, +And danger serves among then! + +KING HENRY VIII +Taxation! +Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, +You that are blamed for it alike with us, +Know you of this taxation? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please you, sir, +I know but of a single part, in aught +Pertains to the state; and front but in that file +Where others tell steps with me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +No, my lord, +You know no more than others; but you frame +Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome +To those which would not know them, and yet must +Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, +Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are +Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em, +The back is sacrifice to the load. They say +They are devised by you; or else you suffer +Too hard an exclamation. + +KING HENRY VIII +Still exaction! +The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, +Is this exaction? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am much too venturous +In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd +Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief +Comes through commissions, which compel from each +The sixth part of his substance, to be levied +Without delay; and the pretence for this +Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: +Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze +Allegiance in them; their curses now +Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, +This tractable obedience is a slave +To each incensed will. I would your highness +Would give it quick consideration, for +There is no primer business. + +KING HENRY VIII +By my life, +This is against our pleasure. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And for me, +I have no further gone in this than by +A single voice; and that not pass'd me but +By learned approbation of the judges. If I am +Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know +My faculties nor person, yet will be +The chronicles of my doing, let me say +'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake +That virtue must go through. We must not stint +Our necessary actions, in the fear +To cope malicious censurers; which ever, +As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow +That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further +Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, +By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is +Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, +Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up +For our best act. If we shall stand still, +In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, +We should take root here where we sit, or sit +State-statues only. + +KING HENRY VIII +Things done well, +And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; +Things done without example, in their issue +Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent +Of this commission? I believe, not any. +We must not rend our subjects from our laws, +And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? +A trembling contribution! Why, we take +From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber; +And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, +The air will drink the sap. To every county +Where this is question'd send our letters, with +Free pardon to each man that has denied +The force of this commission: pray, look to't; +I put it to your care. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +A word with you. + +To the Secretary + +Let there be letters writ to every shire, +Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons +Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised +That through our intercession this revokement +And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you +Further in the proceeding. + +Exit Secretary + +Enter Surveyor + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham +Is run in your displeasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +It grieves many: +The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; +To nature none more bound; his training such, +That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, +And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, +When these so noble benefits shall prove +Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, +They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly +Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, +Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, +Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find +His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady, +Hath into monstrous habits put the graces +That once were his, and is become as black +As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-- +This was his gentleman in trust--of him +Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount +The fore-recited practises; whereof +We cannot feel too little, hear too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, +Most like a careful subject, have collected +Out of the Duke of Buckingham. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak freely. + +Surveyor +First, it was usual with him, every day +It would infect his speech, that if the king +Should without issue die, he'll carry it so +To make the sceptre his: these very words +I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, +Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced +Revenge upon the cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please your highness, note +This dangerous conception in this point. +Not friended by by his wish, to your high person +His will is most malignant; and it stretches +Beyond you, to your friends. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My learn'd lord cardinal, +Deliver all with charity. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak on: +How grounded he his title to the crown, +Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him +At any time speak aught? + +Surveyor +He was brought to this +By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. + +KING HENRY VIII +What was that Hopkins? + +Surveyor +Sir, a Chartreux friar, +His confessor, who fed him every minute +With words of sovereignty. + +KING HENRY VIII +How know'st thou this? + +Surveyor +Not long before your highness sped to France, +The duke being at the Rose, within the parish +Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand +What was the speech among the Londoners +Concerning the French journey: I replied, +Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, +To the king's danger. Presently the duke +Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted +'Twould prove the verity of certain words +Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he, +'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit +John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour +To hear from him a matter of some moment: +Whom after under the confession's seal +He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke +My chaplain to no creature living, but +To me, should utter, with demure confidence +This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs, +Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive +To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke +Shall govern England.' + +QUEEN KATHARINE +If I know you well, +You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office +On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed +You charge not in your spleen a noble person +And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; +Yes, heartily beseech you. + +KING HENRY VIII +Let him on. +Go forward. + +Surveyor +On my soul, I'll speak but truth. +I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions +The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him +To ruminate on this so far, until +It forged him some design, which, being believed, +It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush, +It can do me no damage;' adding further, +That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, +The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads +Should have gone off. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha! +There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further? + +Surveyor +I can, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +Proceed. + +Surveyor +Being at Greenwich, +After your highness had reproved the duke +About Sir William Blomer,-- + +KING HENRY VIII +I remember +Of such a time: being my sworn servant, +The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? + +Surveyor +'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed, +As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd +The part my father meant to act upon +The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, +Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, +As he made semblance of his duty, would +Have put his knife to him.' + +KING HENRY VIII +A giant traitor! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, +and this man out of prison? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +God mend all! + +KING HENRY VIII +There's something more would out of thee; what say'st? + +Surveyor +After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,' +He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, +Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes +He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor +Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo +His father by as much as a performance +Does an irresolute purpose. + +KING HENRY VIII +There's his period, +To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd; +Call him to present trial: if he may +Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, +Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night, +He's traitor to the height. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain and SANDS +Chamberlain +Is't possible the spells of France should juggle +Men into such strange mysteries? + +SANDS +New customs, +Though they be never so ridiculous, +Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. + +Chamberlain +As far as I see, all the good our English +Have got by the late voyage is but merely +A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; +For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly +Their very noses had been counsellors +To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. + +SANDS +They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it, +That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin +Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. + +Chamberlain +Death! my lord, +Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, +That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. + +Enter LOVELL + +How now! +What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? + +LOVELL +Faith, my lord, +I hear of none, but the new proclamation +That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. + +Chamberlain +What is't for? + +LOVELL +The reformation of our travell'd gallants, +That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. + +Chamberlain +I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs +To think an English courtier may be wise, +And never see the Louvre. + +LOVELL +They must either, +For so run the conditions, leave those remnants +Of fool and feather that they got in France, +With all their honourable point of ignorance +Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, +Abusing better men than they can be, +Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean +The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, +Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel, +And understand again like honest men; +Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, +They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away +The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. + +SANDS +'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases +Are grown so catching. + +Chamberlain +What a loss our ladies +Will have of these trim vanities! + +LOVELL +Ay, marry, +There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons +Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; +A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. + +SANDS +The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, +For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now +An honest country lord, as I am, beaten +A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong +And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, +Held current music too. + +Chamberlain +Well said, Lord Sands; +Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. + +SANDS +No, my lord; +Nor shall not, while I have a stump. + +Chamberlain +Sir Thomas, +Whither were you a-going? + +LOVELL +To the cardinal's: +Your lordship is a guest too. + +Chamberlain +O, 'tis true: +This night he makes a supper, and a great one, +To many lords and ladies; there will be +The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. + +LOVELL +That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, +A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; +His dews fall every where. + +Chamberlain +No doubt he's noble; +He had a black mouth that said other of him. + +SANDS +He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him +Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: +Men of his way should be most liberal; +They are set here for examples. + +Chamberlain +True, they are so: +But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; +Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, +We shall be late else; which I would not be, +For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford +This night to be comptrollers. + +SANDS +I am your lordship's. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place. + +Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD +GUILDFORD +Ladies, a general welcome from his grace +Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates +To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, +In all this noble bevy, has brought with her +One care abroad; he would have all as merry +As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome, +Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: + +Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL + +The very thought of this fair company +Clapp'd wings to me. + +Chamberlain +You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. + +SANDS +Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal +But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these +Should find a running banquet ere they rested, +I think would better please 'em: by my life, +They are a sweet society of fair ones. + +LOVELL +O, that your lordship were but now confessor +To one or two of these! + +SANDS +I would I were; +They should find easy penance. + +LOVELL +Faith, how easy? + +SANDS +As easy as a down-bed would afford it. + +Chamberlain +Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, +Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this: +His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; +Two women placed together makes cold weather: +My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; +Pray, sit between these ladies. + +SANDS +By my faith, +And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: +If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; +I had it from my father. + +ANNE +Was he mad, sir? + +SANDS +O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too: +But he would bite none; just as I do now, +He would kiss you twenty with a breath. + +Kisses her + +Chamberlain +Well said, my lord. +So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, +The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies +Pass away frowning. + +SANDS +For my little cure, +Let me alone. + +Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady, +Or gentleman, that is not freely merry, +Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; +And to you all, good health. + +Drinks + +SANDS +Your grace is noble: +Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, +And save me so much talking. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My Lord Sands, +I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. +Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen, +Whose fault is this? + +SANDS +The red wine first must rise +In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em +Talk us to silence. + +ANNE +You are a merry gamester, +My Lord Sands. + +SANDS +Yes, if I make my play. +Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam, +For 'tis to such a thing,-- + +ANNE +You cannot show me. + +SANDS +I told your grace they would talk anon. + +Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What's that? + +Chamberlain +Look out there, some of ye. + +Exit Servant + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What warlike voice, +And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; +By all the laws of war you're privileged. + +Re-enter Servant + +Chamberlain +How now! what is't? + +Servant +A noble troop of strangers; +For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; +And hither make, as great ambassadors +From foreign princes. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Good lord chamberlain, +Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; +And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em +Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty +Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. + +Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed + +You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it. +A good digestion to you all: and once more +I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. + +Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him + +A noble company! what are their pleasures? + +Chamberlain +Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd +To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame +Of this so noble and so fair assembly +This night to meet here, they could do no less +Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, +But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct, +Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat +An hour of revels with 'em. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Say, lord chamberlain, +They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em +A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. + +They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII chooses ANNE + +KING HENRY VIII +The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, +Till now I never knew thee! + +Music. Dance + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My lord! + +Chamberlain +Your grace? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, tell 'em thus much from me: +There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, +More worthy this place than myself; to whom, +If I but knew him, with my love and duty +I would surrender it. + +Chamberlain +I will, my lord. + +Whispers the Masquers + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What say they? + +Chamberlain +Such a one, they all confess, +There is indeed; which they would have your grace +Find out, and he will take it. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Let me see, then. +By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make +My royal choice. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye have found him, cardinal: + +Unmasking + +You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord: +You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal, +I should judge now unhappily. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I am glad +Your grace is grown so pleasant. + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord chamberlain, +Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that? + +Chamberlain +An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter-- +The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women. + +KING HENRY VIII +By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, +I were unmannerly, to take you out, +And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! +Let it go round. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready +I' the privy chamber? + +LOVELL +Yes, my lord. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace, +I fear, with dancing is a little heated. + +KING HENRY VIII +I fear, too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +There's fresher air, my lord, +In the next chamber. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner, +I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry: +Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths +To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure +To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream +Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. + +Exeunt with trumpets + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Westminster. A street. + +Enter two Gentlemen, meeting +First Gentleman +Whither away so fast? + +Second Gentleman +O, God save ye! +Even to the hall, to hear what shall become +Of the great Duke of Buckingham. + +First Gentleman +I'll save you +That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony +Of bringing back the prisoner. + +Second Gentleman +Were you there? + +First Gentleman +Yes, indeed, was I. + +Second Gentleman +Pray, speak what has happen'd. + +First Gentleman +You may guess quickly what. + +Second Gentleman +Is he found guilty? + +First Gentleman +Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't. + +Second Gentleman +I am sorry for't. + +First Gentleman +So are a number more. + +Second Gentleman +But, pray, how pass'd it? + +First Gentleman +I'll tell you in a little. The great duke +Came to the bar; where to his accusations +He pleaded still not guilty and alleged +Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. +The king's attorney on the contrary +Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions +Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired +To have brought viva voce to his face: +At which appear'd against him his surveyor; +Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, +Confessor to him; with that devil-monk, +Hopkins, that made this mischief. + +Second Gentleman +That was he +That fed him with his prophecies? + +First Gentleman +The same. +All these accused him strongly; which he fain +Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: +And so his peers, upon this evidence, +Have found him guilty of high treason. Much +He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all +Was either pitied in him or forgotten. + +Second Gentleman +After all this, how did he bear himself? + +First Gentleman +When he was brought again to the bar, to hear +His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd +With such an agony, he sweat extremely, +And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: +But he fell to himself again, and sweetly +In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. + +Second Gentleman +I do not think he fears death. + +First Gentleman +Sure, he does not: +He never was so womanish; the cause +He may a little grieve at. + +Second Gentleman +Certainly +The cardinal is the end of this. + +First Gentleman +'Tis likely, +By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder, +Then deputy of Ireland; who removed, +Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, +Lest he should help his father. + +Second Gentleman +That trick of state +Was a deep envious one. + +First Gentleman +At his return +No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, +And generally, whoever the king favours, +The cardinal instantly will find employment, +And far enough from court too. + +Second Gentleman +All the commons +Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, +Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much +They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham, +The mirror of all courtesy;-- + +First Gentleman +Stay there, sir, +And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL, VAUX, SANDS, and common people + +Second Gentleman +Let's stand close, and behold him. + +BUCKINGHAM +All good people, +You that thus far have come to pity me, +Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. +I have this day received a traitor's judgment, +And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, +And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me, +Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! +The law I bear no malice for my death; +'T has done, upon the premises, but justice: +But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: +Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em: +Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, +Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; +For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em. +For further life in this world I ne'er hope, +Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies +More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me, +And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, +His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave +Is only bitter to him, only dying, +Go with me, like good angels, to my end; +And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, +Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, +And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. + +LOVELL +I do beseech your grace, for charity, +If ever any malice in your heart +Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you +As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; +There cannot be those numberless offences +'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: +no black envy +Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace; +And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him +You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers +Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake, +Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live +Longer than I have time to tell his years! +Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! +And when old time shall lead him to his end, +Goodness and he fill up one monument! + +LOVELL +To the water side I must conduct your grace; +Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, +Who undertakes you to your end. + +VAUX +Prepare there, +The duke is coming: see the barge be ready; +And fit it with such furniture as suits +The greatness of his person. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nay, Sir Nicholas, +Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. +When I came hither, I was lord high constable +And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: +Yet I am richer than my base accusers, +That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; +And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't. +My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, +Who first raised head against usurping Richard, +Flying for succor to his servant Banister, +Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, +And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! +Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying +My father's loss, like a most royal prince, +Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins, +Made my name once more noble. Now his son, +Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all +That made me happy at one stroke has taken +For ever from the world. I had my trial, +And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me, +A little happier than my wretched father: +Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both +Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most; +A most unnatural and faithless service! +Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me, +This from a dying man receive as certain: +Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels +Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends +And give your hearts to, when they once perceive +The least rub in your fortunes, fall away +Like water from ye, never found again +But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, +Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour +Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: +And when you would say something that is sad, +Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me! + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train + +First Gentleman +O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, +I fear, too many curses on their beads +That were the authors. + +Second Gentleman +If the duke be guiltless, +'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling +Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, +Greater than this. + +First Gentleman +Good angels keep it from us! +What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? + +Second Gentleman +This secret is so weighty, 'twill require +A strong faith to conceal it. + +First Gentleman +Let me have it; +I do not talk much. + +Second Gentleman +I am confident, +You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear +A buzzing of a separation +Between the king and Katharine? + +First Gentleman +Yes, but it held not: +For when the king once heard it, out of anger +He sent command to the lord mayor straight +To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues +That durst disperse it. + +Second Gentleman +But that slander, sir, +Is found a truth now: for it grows again +Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain +The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, +Or some about him near, have, out of malice +To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple +That will undo her: to confirm this too, +Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately; +As all think, for this business. + +First Gentleman +'Tis the cardinal; +And merely to revenge him on the emperor +For not bestowing on him, at his asking, +The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed. + +Second Gentleman +I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel +That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal +Will have his will, and she must fall. + +First Gentleman +'Tis woful. +We are too open here to argue this; +Let's think in private more. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter +Chamberlain +'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with +all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and +furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the +best breed in the north. When they were ready to +set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by +commission and main power, took 'em from me; with +this reason: His master would be served before a +subject, if not before the king; which stopped our +mouths, sir.' +I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them: +He will have all, I think. + +Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +NORFOLK +Well met, my lord chamberlain. + +Chamberlain +Good day to both your graces. + +SUFFOLK +How is the king employ'd? + +Chamberlain +I left him private, +Full of sad thoughts and troubles. + +NORFOLK +What's the cause? + +Chamberlain +It seems the marriage with his brother's wife +Has crept too near his conscience. + +SUFFOLK +No, his conscience +Has crept too near another lady. + +NORFOLK +'Tis so: +This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: +That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, +Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. + +SUFFOLK +Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. + +NORFOLK +How holily he works in all his business! +And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league +Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, +He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters +Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, +Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: +And out of all these to restore the king, +He counsels a divorce; a loss of her +That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years +About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; +Of her that loves him with that excellence +That angels love good men with; even of her +That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, +Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? + +Chamberlain +Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true +These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, +And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare +Look into these affairs see this main end, +The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open +The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon +This bold bad man. + +SUFFOLK +And free us from his slavery. + +NORFOLK +We had need pray, +And heartily, for our deliverance; +Or this imperious man will work us all +From princes into pages: all men's honours +Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd +Into what pitch he please. + +SUFFOLK +For me, my lords, +I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: +As I am made without him, so I'll stand, +If the king please; his curses and his blessings +Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. +I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him +To him that made him proud, the pope. + +NORFOLK +Let's in; +And with some other business put the king +From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him: +My lord, you'll bear us company? + +Chamberlain +Excuse me; +The king has sent me otherwhere: besides, +You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: +Health to your lordships. + +NORFOLK +Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. + +Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively + +SUFFOLK +How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, ha? + +NORFOLK +Pray God he be not angry. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves +Into my private meditations? +Who am I? ha? + +NORFOLK +A gracious king that pardons all offences +Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way +Is business of estate; in which we come +To know your royal pleasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye are too bold: +Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: +Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a commission + +Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, +The quiet of my wounded conscience; +Thou art a cure fit for a king. + +To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +You're welcome, +Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: +Use us and it. + +To CARDINAL WOLSEY + +My good lord, have great care +I be not found a talker. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, you cannot. +I would your grace would give us but an hour +Of private conference. + +KING HENRY VIII +[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] +We are busy; go. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] +This priest has no pride in him? + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of: +I would not be so sick though for his place: +But this cannot continue. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do, +I'll venture one have-at-him. + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] I another. + +Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom +Above all princes, in committing freely +Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: +Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? +The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her, +Must now confess, if they have any goodness, +The trial just and noble. All the clerks, +I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms +Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, +Invited by your noble self, hath sent +One general tongue unto us, this good man, +This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; +Whom once more I present unto your highness. + +KING HENRY VIII +And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, +And thank the holy conclave for their loves: +They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, +You are so noble. To your highness' hand +I tender my commission; by whose virtue, +The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord +Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant +In the unpartial judging of this business. + +KING HENRY VIII +Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted +Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I know your majesty has always loved her +So dear in heart, not to deny her that +A woman of less place might ask by law: +Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour +To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, +Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: +I find him a fit fellow. + +Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY + +Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand much joy and +favour to you; +You are the king's now. + +GARDINER +[Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY] +But to be commanded +For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. + +KING HENRY VIII +Come hither, Gardiner. + +Walks and whispers + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace +In this man's place before him? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, he was. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Was he not held a learned man? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, surely. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then +Even of yourself, lord cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +How! of me? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +They will not stick to say you envied him, +And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, +Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him, +That he ran mad and died. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven's peace be with him! +That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers +There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; +For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, +If I command him, follows my appointment: +I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, +We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. + +KING HENRY VIII +Deliver this with modesty to the queen. + +Exit GARDINER + +The most convenient place that I can think of +For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars; +There ye shall meet about this weighty business. +My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, +Would it not grieve an able man to leave +So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! +O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments. + +Enter ANNE and an Old Lady +ANNE +Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches: +His highness having lived so long with her, and she +So good a lady that no tongue could ever +Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life, +She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after +So many courses of the sun enthroned, +Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which +To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than +'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process, +To give her the avaunt! it is a pity +Would move a monster. + +Old Lady +Hearts of most hard temper +Melt and lament for her. + +ANNE +O, God's will! much better +She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal, +Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce +It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging +As soul and body's severing. + +Old Lady +Alas, poor lady! +She's a stranger now again. + +ANNE +So much the more +Must pity drop upon her. Verily, +I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, +And range with humble livers in content, +Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, +And wear a golden sorrow. + +Old Lady +Our content +Is our best having. + +ANNE +By my troth and maidenhead, +I would not be a queen. + +Old Lady +Beshrew me, I would, +And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, +For all this spice of your hypocrisy: +You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, +Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet +Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; +Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, +Saving your mincing, the capacity +Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, +If you might please to stretch it. + +ANNE +Nay, good troth. + +Old Lady +Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen? + +ANNE +No, not for all the riches under heaven. +Old Lady: 'Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would hire me, +Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you, +What think you of a duchess? have you limbs +To bear that load of title? + +ANNE +No, in truth. + +Old Lady +Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; +I would not be a young count in your way, +For more than blushing comes to: if your back +Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak +Ever to get a boy. + +ANNE +How you do talk! +I swear again, I would not be a queen +For all the world. + +Old Lady +In faith, for little England +You'ld venture an emballing: I myself +Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd +No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here? + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know +The secret of your conference? + +ANNE +My good lord, +Not your demand; it values not your asking: +Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. + +Chamberlain +It was a gentle business, and becoming +The action of good women: there is hope +All will be well. + +ANNE +Now, I pray God, amen! + +Chamberlain +You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings +Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, +Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's +Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty +Commends his good opinion of you, and +Does purpose honour to you no less flowing +Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title +A thousand pound a year, annual support, +Out of his grace he adds. + +ANNE +I do not know +What kind of my obedience I should tender; +More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers +Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes +More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes +Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, +Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, +As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; +Whose health and royalty I pray for. + +Chamberlain +Lady, +I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit +The king hath of you. + +Aside + +I have perused her well; +Beauty and honour in her are so mingled +That they have caught the king: and who knows yet +But from this lady may proceed a gem +To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king, +And say I spoke with you. + +Exit Chamberlain + +ANNE +My honour'd lord. + +Old Lady +Why, this it is; see, see! +I have been begging sixteen years in court, +Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could +Come pat betwixt too early and too late +For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! +A very fresh-fish here--fie, fie, fie upon +This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up +Before you open it. + +ANNE +This is strange to me. + +Old Lady +How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. +There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, +That would not be a queen, that would she not, +For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it? + +ANNE +Come, you are pleasant. + +Old Lady +With your theme, I could +O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke! +A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! +No other obligation! By my life, +That promises moe thousands: honour's train +Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time +I know your back will bear a duchess: say, +Are you not stronger than you were? + +ANNE +Good lady, +Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, +And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, +If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me, +To think what follows. +The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful +In our long absence: pray, do not deliver +What here you've heard to her. + +Old Lady +What do you think me? + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. + +Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone; after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Whilst our commission from Rome is read, +Let silence be commanded. + +KING HENRY VIII +What's the need? +It hath already publicly been read, +And on all sides the authority allow'd; +You may, then, spare that time. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be't so. Proceed. + +Scribe +Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Henry King of England, & c. + +KING HENRY VIII +Here. + +Scribe +Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, & c. + +QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, I desire you do me right and justice; +And to bestow your pity on me: for +I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, +Born out of your dominions; having here +No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance +Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, +In what have I offended you? what cause +Hath my behavior given to your displeasure, +That thus you should proceed to put me off, +And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, +I have been to you a true and humble wife, +At all times to your will conformable; +Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, +Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry +As I saw it inclined: when was the hour +I ever contradicted your desire, +Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends +Have I not strove to love, although I knew +He were mine enemy? what friend of mine +That had to him derived your anger, did I +Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice +He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind +That I have been your wife, in this obedience, +Upward of twenty years, and have been blest +With many children by you: if, in the course +And process of this time, you can report, +And prove it too, against mine honour aught, +My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, +Against your sacred person, in God's name, +Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt +Shut door upon me, and so give me up +To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir, +The king, your father, was reputed for +A prince most prudent, of an excellent +And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, +My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one +The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many +A year before: it is not to be question'd +That they had gather'd a wise council to them +Of every realm, that did debate this business, +Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly +Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may +Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel +I will implore: if not, i' the name of God, +Your pleasure be fulfill'd! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You have here, lady, +And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men +Of singular integrity and learning, +Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled +To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless +That longer you desire the court; as well +For your own quiet, as to rectify +What is unsettled in the king. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +His grace +Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, +It's fit this royal session do proceed; +And that, without delay, their arguments +Be now produced and heard. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Lord cardinal, +To you I speak. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your pleasure, madam? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, +I am about to weep; but, thinking that +We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain +The daughter of a king, my drops of tears +I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be patient yet. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I will, when you are humble; nay, before, +Or God will punish me. I do believe, +Induced by potent circumstances, that +You are mine enemy, and make my challenge +You shall not be my judge: for it is you +Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me; +Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, +I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul +Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more, +I hold my most malicious foe, and think not +At all a friend to truth. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I do profess +You speak not like yourself; who ever yet +Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects +Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom +O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong: +I have no spleen against you; nor injustice +For you or any: how far I have proceeded, +Or how far further shall, is warranted +By a commission from the consistory, +Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me +That I have blown this coal: I do deny it: +The king is present: if it be known to him +That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, +And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much +As you have done my truth. If he know +That I am free of your report, he knows +I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him +It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to +Remove these thoughts from you: the which before +His highness shall speak in, I do beseech +You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking +And to say so no more. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, my lord, +I am a simple woman, much too weak +To oppose your cunning. You're meek and +humble-mouth'd; +You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, +With meekness and humility; but your heart +Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. +You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, +Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted +Where powers are your retainers, and your words, +Domestics to you, serve your will as't please +Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, +You tender more your person's honour than +Your high profession spiritual: that again +I do refuse you for my judge; and here, +Before you all, appeal unto the pope, +To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, +And to be judged by him. + +She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +The queen is obstinate, +Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and +Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. +She's going away. + +KING HENRY VIII +Call her again. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +GRIFFITH +Madam, you are call'd back. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: +When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help, +They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on: +I will not tarry; no, nor ever more +Upon this business my appearance make +In any of their courts. + +Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants + +KING HENRY VIII +Go thy ways, Kate: +That man i' the world who shall report he has +A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, +For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, +If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, +Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, +Obeying in commanding, and thy parts +Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, +The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born; +And, like her true nobility, she has +Carried herself towards me. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Most gracious sir, +In humblest manner I require your highness, +That it shall please you to declare, in hearing +Of all these ears,--for where I am robb'd and bound, +There must I be unloosed, although not there +At once and fully satisfied,--whether ever I +Did broach this business to your highness; or +Laid any scruple in your way, which might +Induce you to the question on't? or ever +Have to you, but with thanks to God for such +A royal lady, spake one the least word that might +Be to the prejudice of her present state, +Or touch of her good person? + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord cardinal, +I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, +I free you from't. You are not to be taught +That you have many enemies, that know not +Why they are so, but, like to village-curs, +Bark when their fellows do: by some of these +The queen is put in anger. You're excused: +But will you be more justified? You ever +Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired +It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, +The passages made toward it: on my honour, +I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, +And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't, +I will be bold with time and your attention: +Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't: +My conscience first received a tenderness, +Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd +By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador; +Who had been hither sent on the debating +A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and +Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business, +Ere a determinate resolution, he, +I mean the bishop, did require a respite; +Wherein he might the king his lord advertise +Whether our daughter were legitimate, +Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, +Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook +The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, +Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble +The region of my breast; which forced such way, +That many mazed considerings did throng +And press'd in with this caution. First, methought +I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had +Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, +If it conceived a male child by me, should +Do no more offices of life to't than +The grave does to the dead; for her male issue +Or died where they were made, or shortly after +This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought, +This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, +Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not +Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that +I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in +By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me +Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in +The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer +Toward this remedy, whereupon we are +Now present here together: that's to say, +I meant to rectify my conscience,--which +I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,-- +By all the reverend fathers of the land +And doctors learn'd: first I began in private +With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember +How under my oppression I did reek, +When I first moved you. + +LINCOLN +Very well, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say +How far you satisfied me. + +LINCOLN +So please your highness, +The question did at first so stagger me, +Bearing a state of mighty moment in't +And consequence of dread, that I committed +The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt; +And did entreat your highness to this course +Which you are running here. + +KING HENRY VIII +I then moved you, +My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave +To make this present summons: unsolicited +I left no reverend person in this court; +But by particular consent proceeded +Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on: +For no dislike i' the world against the person +Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points +Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward: +Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life +And kingly dignity, we are contented +To wear our mortal state to come with her, +Katharine our queen, before the primest creature +That's paragon'd o' the world. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +So please your highness, +The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness +That we adjourn this court till further day: +Meanwhile must be an earnest motion +Made to the queen, to call back her appeal +She intends unto his holiness. + +KING HENRY VIII +[Aside] I may perceive +These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor +This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. +My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, +Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, +My comfort comes along. Break up the court: +I say, set on. + +Exeunt in manner as they entered + + +ACT III +SCENE I. London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments. + +Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work +QUEEN KATHARINE +Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; +Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. + +SONG + +Orpheus with his lute made trees, +And the mountain tops that freeze, +Bow themselves when he did sing: +To his music plants and flowers +Ever sprung; as sun and showers +There had made a lasting spring. +Every thing that heard him play, +Even the billows of the sea, +Hung their heads, and then lay by. +In sweet music is such art, +Killing care and grief of heart +Fall asleep, or hearing, die. + +Enter a Gentleman + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How now! + +Gentleman +An't please your grace, the two great cardinals +Wait in the presence. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would they speak with me? + +Gentleman +They will'd me say so, madam. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Pray their graces +To come near. + +Exit Gentleman + +What can be their business +With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? +I do not like their coming. Now I think on't, +They should be good men; their affairs as righteous: +But all hoods make not monks. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Peace to your highness! + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Your graces find me here part of a housewife, +I would be all, against the worst may happen. +What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +May it please you noble madam, to withdraw +Into your private chamber, we shall give you +The full cause of our coming. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Speak it here: +There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, +Deserves a corner: would all other women +Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! +My lords, I care not, so much I am happy +Above a number, if my actions +Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em, +Envy and base opinion set against 'em, +I know my life so even. If your business +Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, +Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina +serenissima,-- + +QUEEN KATHARINE +O, good my lord, no Latin; +I am not such a truant since my coming, +As not to know the language I have lived in: +A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, +suspicious; +Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, +If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; +Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal, +The willing'st sin I ever yet committed +May be absolved in English. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Noble lady, +I am sorry my integrity should breed, +And service to his majesty and you, +So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. +We come not by the way of accusation, +To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, +Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, +You have too much, good lady; but to know +How you stand minded in the weighty difference +Between the king and you; and to deliver, +Like free and honest men, our just opinions +And comforts to your cause. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Most honour'd madam, +My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, +Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace, +Forgetting, like a good man your late censure +Both of his truth and him, which was too far, +Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, +His service and his counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +[Aside] To betray me.-- +My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; +Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so! +But how to make ye suddenly an answer, +In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,-- +More near my life, I fear,--with my weak wit, +And to such men of gravity and learning, +In truth, I know not. I was set at work +Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking +Either for such men or such business. +For her sake that I have been,--for I feel +The last fit of my greatness,--good your graces, +Let me have time and counsel for my cause: +Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears: +Your hopes and friends are infinite. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +In England +But little for my profit: can you think, lords, +That any Englishman dare give me counsel? +Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure, +Though he be grown so desperate to be honest, +And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, +They that must weigh out my afflictions, +They that my trust must grow to, live not here: +They are, as all my other comforts, far hence +In mine own country, lords. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +I would your grace +Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How, sir? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Put your main cause into the king's protection; +He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much +Both for your honour better and your cause; +For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye, +You'll part away disgraced. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +He tells you rightly. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye tell me what ye wish for both,--my ruin: +Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! +Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge +That no king can corrupt. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your rage mistakes us. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye, +Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; +But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye: +Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? +The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, +A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? +I will not wish ye half my miseries; +I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye; +Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once +The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, this is a mere distraction; +You turn the good we offer into envy. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye +And all such false professors! would you have me-- +If you have any justice, any pity; +If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-- +Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? +Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, +His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, +And all the fellowship I hold now with him +Is only my obedience. What can happen +To me above this wretchedness? all your studies +Make me a curse like this. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your fears are worse. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself, +Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one? +A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, +Never yet branded with suspicion? +Have I with all my full affections +Still met the king? loved him next heaven? +obey'd him? +Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? +Almost forgot my prayers to content him? +And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. +Bring me a constant woman to her husband, +One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; +And to that woman, when she has done most, +Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, +To give up willingly that noble title +Your master wed me to: nothing but death +Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, hear me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would I had never trod this English earth, +Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! +Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. +What will become of me now, wretched lady! +I am the most unhappy woman living. +Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes! +Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, +No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me; +Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily, +That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, +I'll hang my head and perish. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +If your grace +Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, +You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady, +Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places, +The way of our profession is against it: +We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. +For goodness' sake, consider what you do; +How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly +Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. +The hearts of princes kiss obedience, +So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits +They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. +I know you have a gentle, noble temper, +A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us +Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues +With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, +As yours was put into you, ever casts +Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; +Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please +To trust us in your business, we are ready +To use our utmost studies in your service. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me, +If I have used myself unmannerly; +You know I am a woman, lacking wit +To make a seemly answer to such persons. +Pray, do my service to his majesty: +He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers +While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, +Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs, +That little thought, when she set footing here, +She should have bought her dignities so dear. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment. + +Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain +NORFOLK +If you will now unite in your complaints, +And force them with a constancy, the cardinal +Cannot stand under them: if you omit +The offer of this time, I cannot promise +But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, +With these you bear already. + +SURREY +I am joyful +To meet the least occasion that may give me +Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, +To be revenged on him. + +SUFFOLK +Which of the peers +Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least +Strangely neglected? when did he regard +The stamp of nobleness in any person +Out of himself? + +Chamberlain +My lords, you speak your pleasures: +What he deserves of you and me I know; +What we can do to him, though now the time +Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot +Bar his access to the king, never attempt +Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft +Over the king in's tongue. + +NORFOLK +O, fear him not; +His spell in that is out: the king hath found +Matter against him that for ever mars +The honey of his language. No, he's settled, +Not to come off, in his displeasure. + +SURREY +Sir, +I should be glad to hear such news as this +Once every hour. + +NORFOLK +Believe it, this is true: +In the divorce his contrary proceedings +Are all unfolded wherein he appears +As I would wish mine enemy. + +SURREY +How came +His practises to light? + +SUFFOLK +Most strangely. + +SURREY +O, how, how? + +SUFFOLK +The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, +And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read, +How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness +To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if +It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive +My king is tangled in affection to +A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.' + +SURREY +Has the king this? + +SUFFOLK +Believe it. + +SURREY +Will this work? + +Chamberlain +The king in this perceives him, how he coasts +And hedges his own way. But in this point +All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic +After his patient's death: the king already +Hath married the fair lady. + +SURREY +Would he had! + +SUFFOLK +May you be happy in your wish, my lord +For, I profess, you have it. + +SURREY +Now, all my joy +Trace the conjunction! + +SUFFOLK +My amen to't! + +NORFOLK +All men's! + +SUFFOLK +There's order given for her coronation: +Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left +To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, +She is a gallant creature, and complete +In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her +Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall +In it be memorised. + +SURREY +But, will the king +Digest this letter of the cardinal's? +The Lord forbid! + +NORFOLK +Marry, amen! + +SUFFOLK +No, no; +There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose +Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius +Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; +Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and +Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, +To second all his plot. I do assure you +The king cried Ha! at this. + +Chamberlain +Now, God incense him, +And let him cry Ha! louder! + +NORFOLK +But, my lord, +When returns Cranmer? + +SUFFOLK +He is return'd in his opinions; which +Have satisfied the king for his divorce, +Together with all famous colleges +Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, +His second marriage shall be publish'd, and +Her coronation. Katharine no more +Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager +And widow to Prince Arthur. + +NORFOLK +This same Cranmer's +A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain +In the king's business. + +SUFFOLK +He has; and we shall see him +For it an archbishop. + +NORFOLK +So I hear. + +SUFFOLK +'Tis so. +The cardinal! + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL + +NORFOLK +Observe, observe, he's moody. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The packet, Cromwell. +Gave't you the king? + +CROMWELL +To his own hand, in's bedchamber. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? + +CROMWELL +Presently +He did unseal them: and the first he view'd, +He did it with a serious mind; a heed +Was in his countenance. You he bade +Attend him here this morning. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he ready +To come abroad? + +CROMWELL +I think, by this he is. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Leave me awhile. + +Exit CROMWELL + +Aside + +It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, +The French king's sister: he shall marry her. +Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him: +There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen! +No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish +To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke! + +NORFOLK +He's discontented. + +SUFFOLK +May be, he hears the king +Does whet his anger to him. + +SURREY +Sharp enough, +Lord, for thy justice! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, +a knight's daughter, +To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen! +This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; +Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous +And well deserving? yet I know her for +A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to +Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of +Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up +An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one +Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, +And is his oracle. + +NORFOLK +He is vex'd at something. + +SURREY +I would 'twere something that would fret the string, +The master-cord on's heart! + +Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL + +SUFFOLK +The king, the king! + +KING HENRY VIII +What piles of wealth hath he accumulated +To his own portion! and what expense by the hour +Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift, +Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, +Saw you the cardinal? + +NORFOLK +My lord, we have +Stood here observing him: some strange commotion +Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; +Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, +Then lays his finger on his temple, straight +Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, +Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts +His eye against the moon: in most strange postures +We have seen him set himself. + +KING HENRY VIII +It may well be; +There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning +Papers of state he sent me to peruse, +As I required: and wot you what I found +There,--on my conscience, put unwittingly? +Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing; +The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, +Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which +I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks +Possession of a subject. + +NORFOLK +It's heaven's will: +Some spirit put this paper in the packet, +To bless your eye withal. + +KING HENRY VIII +If we did think +His contemplation were above the earth, +And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still +Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid +His thinkings are below the moon, not worth +His serious considering. + +King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL, who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven forgive me! +Ever God bless your highness! + +KING HENRY VIII +Good my lord, +You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory +Of your best graces in your mind; the which +You were now running o'er: you have scarce time +To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span +To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that +I deem you an ill husband, and am glad +To have you therein my companion. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, +For holy offices I have a time; a time +To think upon the part of business which +I bear i' the state; and nature does require +Her times of preservation, which perforce +I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, +Must give my tendence to. + +KING HENRY VIII +You have said well. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And ever may your highness yoke together, +As I will lend you cause, my doing well +With my well saying! + +KING HENRY VIII +'Tis well said again; +And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: +And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: +His said he did; and with his deed did crown +His word upon you. Since I had my office, +I have kept you next my heart; have not alone +Employ'd you where high profits might come home, +But pared my present havings, to bestow +My bounties upon you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] What should this mean? + +SURREY +[Aside] The Lord increase this business! + +KING HENRY VIII +Have I not made you, +The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, +If what I now pronounce you have found true: +And, if you may confess it, say withal, +If you are bound to us or no. What say you? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, +Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could +My studied purposes requite; which went +Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours +Have ever come too short of my desires, +Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends +Have been mine so that evermore they pointed +To the good of your most sacred person and +The profit of the state. For your great graces +Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I +Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, +My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, +Which ever has and ever shall be growing, +Till death, that winter, kill it. + +The Life and Death of King John +Shakespeare homepage | King John | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. KING JOHN'S palace. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON +KING JOHN +Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us? + +CHATILLON +Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France +In my behavior to the majesty, +The borrow'd majesty, of England here. + +QUEEN ELINOR +A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!' + +KING JOHN +Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. + +CHATILLON +Philip of France, in right and true behalf +Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, +Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim +To this fair island and the territories, +To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +Desiring thee to lay aside the sword +Which sways usurpingly these several titles, +And put these same into young Arthur's hand, +Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. + +KING JOHN +What follows if we disallow of this? + +CHATILLON +The proud control of fierce and bloody war, +To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. + +KING JOHN +Here have we war for war and blood for blood, +Controlment for controlment: so answer France. + +CHATILLON +Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, +The farthest limit of my embassy. + +KING JOHN +Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: +Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; +For ere thou canst report I will be there, +The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: +So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath +And sullen presage of your own decay. +An honourable conduct let him have: +Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon. + +Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE + +QUEEN ELINOR +What now, my son! have I not ever said +How that ambitious Constance would not cease +Till she had kindled France and all the world, +Upon the right and party of her son? +This might have been prevented and made whole +With very easy arguments of love, +Which now the manage of two kingdoms must +With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + +KING JOHN +Our strong possession and our right for us. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Your strong possession much more than your right, +Or else it must go wrong with you and me: +So much my conscience whispers in your ear, +Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. + +Enter a Sheriff + +ESSEX +My liege, here is the strangest controversy +Come from country to be judged by you, +That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men? + +KING JOHN +Let them approach. +Our abbeys and our priories shall pay +This expedition's charge. + +Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD + +What men are you? + +BASTARD +Your faithful subject I, a gentleman +Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son, +As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, +A soldier, by the honour-giving hand +Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field. + +KING JOHN +What art thou? + +ROBERT +The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. + +KING JOHN +Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? +You came not of one mother then, it seems. + +BASTARD +Most certain of one mother, mighty king; +That is well known; and, as I think, one father: +But for the certain knowledge of that truth +I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother: +Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother +And wound her honour with this diffidence. + +BASTARD +I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; +That is my brother's plea and none of mine; +The which if he can prove, a' pops me out +At least from fair five hundred pound a year: +Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land! + +KING JOHN +A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born, +Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? + +BASTARD +I know not why, except to get the land. +But once he slander'd me with bastardy: +But whether I be as true begot or no, +That still I lay upon my mother's head, +But that I am as well begot, my liege,-- +Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-- +Compare our faces and be judge yourself. +If old sir Robert did beget us both +And were our father and this son like him, +O old sir Robert, father, on my knee +I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee! + +KING JOHN +Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! + +QUEEN ELINOR +He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face; +The accent of his tongue affecteth him. +Do you not read some tokens of my son +In the large composition of this man? + +KING JOHN +Mine eye hath well examined his parts +And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, +What doth move you to claim your brother's land? + +BASTARD +Because he hath a half-face, like my father. +With half that face would he have all my land: +A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year! + +ROBERT +My gracious liege, when that my father lived, +Your brother did employ my father much,-- + +BASTARD +Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: +Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother. + +ROBERT +And once dispatch'd him in an embassy +To Germany, there with the emperor +To treat of high affairs touching that time. +The advantage of his absence took the king +And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; +Where how he did prevail I shame to speak, +But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores +Between my father and my mother lay, +As I have heard my father speak himself, +When this same lusty gentleman was got. +Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd +His lands to me, and took it on his death +That this my mother's son was none of his; +And if he were, he came into the world +Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. +Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, +My father's land, as was my father's will. + +KING JOHN +Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; +Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him, +And if she did play false, the fault was hers; +Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands +That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, +Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, +Had of your father claim'd this son for his? +In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept +This calf bred from his cow from all the world; +In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's, +My brother might not claim him; nor your father, +Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes; +My mother's son did get your father's heir; +Your father's heir must have your father's land. + +ROBERT +Shall then my father's will be of no force +To dispossess that child which is not his? + +BASTARD +Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, +Than was his will to get me, as I think. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge +And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, +Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion, +Lord of thy presence and no land beside? + +BASTARD +Madam, an if my brother had my shape, +And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him; +And if my legs were two such riding-rods, +My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin +That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose +Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!' +And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, +Would I might never stir from off this place, +I would give it every foot to have this face; +I would not be sir Nob in any case. + +QUEEN ELINOR +I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, +Bequeath thy land to him and follow me? +I am a soldier and now bound to France. + +BASTARD +Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance. +Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, +Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear. +Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Nay, I would have you go before me thither. + +BASTARD +Our country manners give our betters way. + +KING JOHN +What is thy name? + +BASTARD +Philip, my liege, so is my name begun, +Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son. + +KING JOHN +From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st: +Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great, +Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet. + +BASTARD +Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand: +My father gave me honour, yours gave land. +Now blessed by the hour, by night or day, +When I was got, sir Robert was away! + +QUEEN ELINOR +The very spirit of Plantagenet! +I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. + +BASTARD +Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though? +Something about, a little from the right, +In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: +Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, +And have is have, however men do catch: +Near or far off, well won is still well shot, +And I am I, howe'er I was begot. + +KING JOHN +Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire; +A landless knight makes thee a landed squire. +Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed +For France, for France, for it is more than need. + +BASTARD +Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee! +For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. + +Exeunt all but BASTARD + +A foot of honour better than I was; +But many a many foot of land the worse. +Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. +'Good den, sir Richard!'--'God-a-mercy, fellow!'-- +And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; +For new-made honour doth forget men's names; +'Tis too respective and too sociable +For your conversion. Now your traveller, +He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, +And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, +Why then I suck my teeth and catechise +My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,' +Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, +'I shall beseech you'--that is question now; +And then comes answer like an Absey book: +'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command; +At your employment; at your service, sir;' +'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:' +And so, ere answer knows what question would, +Saving in dialogue of compliment, +And talking of the Alps and Apennines, +The Pyrenean and the river Po, +It draws toward supper in conclusion so. +But this is worshipful society +And fits the mounting spirit like myself, +For he is but a bastard to the time +That doth not smack of observation; +And so am I, whether I smack or no; +And not alone in habit and device, +Exterior form, outward accoutrement, +But from the inward motion to deliver +Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: +Which, though I will not practise to deceive, +Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; +For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. +But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? +What woman-post is this? hath she no husband +That will take pains to blow a horn before her? + +Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY + +O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! +What brings you here to court so hastily? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he, +That holds in chase mine honour up and down? + +BASTARD +My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son? +Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? +Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy, +Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert? +He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou. + +BASTARD +James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? + +GURNEY +Good leave, good Philip. + +BASTARD +Philip! sparrow: James, +There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more. + +Exit GURNEY + +Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son: +Sir Robert might have eat his part in me +Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast: +Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess, +Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it: +We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother, +To whom am I beholding for these limbs? +Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, +That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? +What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? + +BASTARD +Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. +What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder. +But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son; +I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land; +Legitimation, name and all is gone: +Then, good my mother, let me know my father; +Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? + +BASTARD +As faithfully as I deny the devil. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father: +By long and vehement suit I was seduced +To make room for him in my husband's bed: +Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! +Thou art the issue of my dear offence, +Which was so strongly urged past my defence. + +BASTARD +Now, by this light, were I to get again, +Madam, I would not wish a better father. +Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, +And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: +Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, +Subjected tribute to commanding love, +Against whose fury and unmatched force +The aweless lion could not wage the fight, +Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. +He that perforce robs lions of their hearts +May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, +With all my heart I thank thee for my father! +Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well +When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. +Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin; +And they shall say, when Richard me begot, +If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: +Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. France. Before Angiers. + +Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side: on the other KING PHILIP and his power; LEWIS, ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants +LEWIS +Before Angiers well met, brave Austria. +Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, +Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart +And fought the holy wars in Palestine, +By this brave duke came early to his grave: +And for amends to his posterity, +At our importance hither is he come, +To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, +And to rebuke the usurpation +Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: +Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. + +ARTHUR +God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death +The rather that you give his offspring life, +Shadowing their right under your wings of war: +I give you welcome with a powerless hand, +But with a heart full of unstained love: +Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. + +LEWIS +A noble boy! Who would not do thee right? + +AUSTRIA +Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, +As seal to this indenture of my love, +That to my home I will no more return, +Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, +Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, +Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides +And coops from other lands her islanders, +Even till that England, hedged in with the main, +That water-walled bulwark, still secure +And confident from foreign purposes, +Even till that utmost corner of the west +Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, +Will I not think of home, but follow arms. + +CONSTANCE +O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, +Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength +To make a more requital to your love! + +AUSTRIA +The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords +In such a just and charitable war. + +KING PHILIP +Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent +Against the brows of this resisting town. +Call for our chiefest men of discipline, +To cull the plots of best advantages: +We'll lay before this town our royal bones, +Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, +But we will make it subject to this boy. + +CONSTANCE +Stay for an answer to your embassy, +Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: +My Lord Chatillon may from England bring, +That right in peace which here we urge in war, +And then we shall repent each drop of blood +That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. + +Enter CHATILLON + +KING PHILIP +A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, +Our messenger Chatillon is arrived! +What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; +We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak. + +CHATILLON +Then turn your forces from this paltry siege +And stir them up against a mightier task. +England, impatient of your just demands, +Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, +Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time +To land his legions all as soon as I; +His marches are expedient to this town, +His forces strong, his soldiers confident. +With him along is come the mother-queen, +An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; +With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain; +With them a bastard of the king's deceased, +And all the unsettled humours of the land, +Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, +With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, +Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, +Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, +To make hazard of new fortunes here: +In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits +Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er +Did nearer float upon the swelling tide, +To do offence and scath in Christendom. + +Drum beats + +The interruption of their churlish drums +Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, +To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. + +KING PHILIP +How much unlook'd for is this expedition! + +AUSTRIA +By how much unexpected, by so much +We must awake endavour for defence; +For courage mounteth with occasion: +Let them be welcome then: we are prepared. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, Lords, and forces + +KING JOHN +Peace be to France, if France in peace permit +Our just and lineal entrance to our own; +If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, +Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct +Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven. + +KING PHILIP +Peace be to England, if that war return +From France to England, there to live in peace. +England we love; and for that England's sake +With burden of our armour here we sweat. +This toil of ours should be a work of thine; +But thou from loving England art so far, +That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king +Cut off the sequence of posterity, +Out-faced infant state and done a rape +Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. +Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; +These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his: +This little abstract doth contain that large +Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time +Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. +That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, +And this his son; England was Geffrey's right +And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God +How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, +When living blood doth in these temples beat, +Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? + +KING JOHN +From whom hast thou this great commission, France, +To draw my answer from thy articles? + +KING PHILIP +From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts +In any breast of strong authority, +To look into the blots and stains of right: +That judge hath made me guardian to this boy: +Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong +And by whose help I mean to chastise it. + +KING JOHN +Alack, thou dost usurp authority. + +KING PHILIP +Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + +CONSTANCE +Let me make answer; thy usurping son. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king, +That thou mayst be a queen, and cheque the world! + +CONSTANCE +My bed was ever to thy son as true +As thine was to thy husband; and this boy +Liker in feature to his father Geffrey +Than thou and John in manners; being as like +As rain to water, or devil to his dam. +My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think +His father never was so true begot: +It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + +QUEEN ELINOR +There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + +CONSTANCE +There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! + +BASTARD +Hear the crier. + +AUSTRIA +What the devil art thou? + +BASTARD +One that will play the devil, sir, with you, +An a' may catch your hide and you alone: +You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, +Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard; +I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; +Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. + +BLANCH +O, well did he become that lion's robe +That did disrobe the lion of that robe! + +BASTARD +It lies as sightly on the back of him +As great Alcides' shows upon an ass: +But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back, +Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. + +AUSTRIA +What craker is this same that deafs our ears +With this abundance of superfluous breath? + +KING PHILIP +Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. + +LEWIS +Women and fools, break off your conference. +King John, this is the very sum of all; +England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +In right of Arthur do I claim of thee: +Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? + +KING JOHN +My life as soon: I do defy thee, France. +Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand; +And out of my dear love I'll give thee more +Than e'er the coward hand of France can win: +Submit thee, boy. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Come to thy grandam, child. + +CONSTANCE +Do, child, go to it grandam, child: +Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will +Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig: +There's a good grandam. + +ARTHUR +Good my mother, peace! +I would that I were low laid in my grave: +I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + +QUEEN ELINOR +His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + +CONSTANCE +Now shame upon you, whether she does or no! +His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, +Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, +Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; +Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed +To do him justice and revenge on you. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! + +CONSTANCE +Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth! +Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp +The dominations, royalties and rights +Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eld'st son's son, +Infortunate in nothing but in thee: +Thy sins are visited in this poor child; +The canon of the law is laid on him, +Being but the second generation +Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. + +KING JOHN +Bedlam, have done. + +CONSTANCE +I have but this to say, +That he is not only plagued for her sin, +But God hath made her sin and her the plague +On this removed issue, plague for her +And with her plague; her sin his injury, +Her injury the beadle to her sin, +All punish'd in the person of this child, +And all for her; a plague upon her! + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou unadvised scold, I can produce +A will that bars the title of thy son. + +CONSTANCE +Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will: +A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will! + +KING PHILIP +Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate: +It ill beseems this presence to cry aim +To these ill-tuned repetitions. +Some trumpet summon hither to the walls +These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak +Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. + +Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls + +First Citizen +Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls? + +KING PHILIP +'Tis France, for England. + +KING JOHN +England, for itself. +You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-- + +KING PHILIP +You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects, +Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle-- + +KING JOHN +For our advantage; therefore hear us first. +These flags of France, that are advanced here +Before the eye and prospect of your town, +Have hither march'd to your endamagement: +The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, +And ready mounted are they to spit forth +Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls: +All preparation for a bloody siege +All merciless proceeding by these French +Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates; +And but for our approach those sleeping stones, +That as a waist doth girdle you about, +By the compulsion of their ordinance +By this time from their fixed beds of lime +Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made +For bloody power to rush upon your peace. +But on the sight of us your lawful king, +Who painfully with much expedient march +Have brought a countercheque before your gates, +To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks, +Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle; +And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, +To make a shaking fever in your walls, +They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke, +To make a faithless error in your ears: +Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, +And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits, +Forwearied in this action of swift speed, +Crave harbourage within your city walls. + +KING PHILIP +When I have said, make answer to us both. +Lo, in this right hand, whose protection +Is most divinely vow'd upon the right +Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, +Son to the elder brother of this man, +And king o'er him and all that he enjoys: +For this down-trodden equity, we tread +In warlike march these greens before your town, +Being no further enemy to you +Than the constraint of hospitable zeal +In the relief of this oppressed child +Religiously provokes. Be pleased then +To pay that duty which you truly owe +To that owes it, namely this young prince: +And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, +Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up; +Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent +Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; +And with a blessed and unvex'd retire, +With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised, +We will bear home that lusty blood again +Which here we came to spout against your town, +And leave your children, wives and you in peace. +But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, +'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls +Can hide you from our messengers of war, +Though all these English and their discipline +Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. +Then tell us, shall your city call us lord, +In that behalf which we have challenged it? +Or shall we give the signal to our rage +And stalk in blood to our possession? + +First Citizen +In brief, we are the king of England's subjects: +For him, and in his right, we hold this town. + +KING JOHN +Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. + +First Citizen +That can we not; but he that proves the king, +To him will we prove loyal: till that time +Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. + +KING JOHN +Doth not the crown of England prove the king? +And if not that, I bring you witnesses, +Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,-- + +BASTARD +Bastards, and else. + +KING JOHN +To verify our title with their lives. + +KING PHILIP +As many and as well-born bloods as those,-- + +BASTARD +Some bastards too. + +KING PHILIP +Stand in his face to contradict his claim. + +First Citizen +Till you compound whose right is worthiest, +We for the worthiest hold the right from both. + +KING JOHN +Then God forgive the sin of all those souls +That to their everlasting residence, +Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, +In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king! + +KING PHILIP +Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms! + +BASTARD +Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since +Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, +Teach us some fence! + +To AUSTRIA + +Sirrah, were I at home, +At your den, sirrah, with your lioness +I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, +And make a monster of you. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! no more. + +BASTARD +O tremble, for you hear the lion roar. + +KING JOHN +Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth +In best appointment all our regiments. + +BASTARD +Speed then, to take advantage of the field. + +KING PHILIP +It shall be so; and at the other hill +Command the rest to stand. God and our right! + +Exeunt + +Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France, with trumpets, to the gates + +French Herald +You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, +And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, +Who by the hand of France this day hath made +Much work for tears in many an English mother, +Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; +Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, +Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth; +And victory, with little loss, doth play +Upon the dancing banners of the French, +Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, +To enter conquerors and to proclaim +Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours. + +Enter English Herald, with trumpet + +English Herald +Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells: +King John, your king and England's doth approach, +Commander of this hot malicious day: +Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, +Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; +There stuck no plume in any English crest +That is removed by a staff of France; +Our colours do return in those same hands +That did display them when we first march'd forth; +And, like a troop of jolly huntsmen, come +Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, +Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes: +Open your gates and gives the victors way. + +First Citizen +Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, +From first to last, the onset and retire +Of both your armies; whose equality +By our best eyes cannot be censured: +Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows; +Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: +Both are alike; and both alike we like. +One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, +We hold our town for neither, yet for both. + +Re-enter KING JOHN and KING PHILIP, with their powers, severally + +KING JOHN +France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? +Say, shall the current of our right run on? +Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, +Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell +With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, +Unless thou let his silver water keep +A peaceful progress to the ocean. + +KING PHILIP +England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood, +In this hot trial, more than we of France; +Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, +That sways the earth this climate overlooks, +Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, +We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, +Or add a royal number to the dead, +Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss +With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. + +BASTARD +Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, +When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! +O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; +The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; +And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men, +In undetermined differences of kings. +Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? +Cry, 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field, +You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits! +Then let confusion of one part confirm +The other's peace: till then, blows, blood and death! + +KING JOHN +Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? + +KING PHILIP +Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king? + +First Citizen +The king of England; when we know the king. + +KING PHILIP +Know him in us, that here hold up his right. + +KING JOHN +In us, that are our own great deputy +And bear possession of our person here, +Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. + +First Citizen +A greater power then we denies all this; +And till it be undoubted, we do lock +Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; +King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolved, +Be by some certain king purged and deposed. + +BASTARD +By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings, +And stand securely on their battlements, +As in a theatre, whence they gape and point +At your industrious scenes and acts of death. +Your royal presences be ruled by me: +Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, +Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend +Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: +By east and west let France and England mount +Their battering cannon charged to the mouths, +Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down +The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: +I'ld play incessantly upon these jades, +Even till unfenced desolation +Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. +That done, dissever your united strengths, +And part your mingled colours once again; +Turn face to face and bloody point to point; +Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth +Out of one side her happy minion, +To whom in favour she shall give the day, +And kiss him with a glorious victory. +How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? +Smacks it not something of the policy? + +KING JOHN +Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, +I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers +And lay this Angiers even to the ground; +Then after fight who shall be king of it? + +BASTARD +An if thou hast the mettle of a king, +Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, +Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, +As we will ours, against these saucy walls; +And when that we have dash'd them to the ground, +Why then defy each other and pell-mell +Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. + +KING PHILIP +Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? + +KING JOHN +We from the west will send destruction +Into this city's bosom. + +AUSTRIA +I from the north. + +KING PHILIP +Our thunder from the south +Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. + +BASTARD +O prudent discipline! From north to south: +Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: +I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away! + +First Citizen +Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay, +And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league; +Win you this city without stroke or wound; +Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, +That here come sacrifices for the field: +Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. + +KING JOHN +Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. + +First Citizen +That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, +Is niece to England: look upon the years +Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid: +If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, +Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? +If zealous love should go in search of virtue, +Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? +If love ambitious sought a match of birth, +Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch? +Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, +Is the young Dauphin every way complete: +If not complete of, say he is not she; +And she again wants nothing, to name want, +If want it be not that she is not he: +He is the half part of a blessed man, +Left to be finished by such as she; +And she a fair divided excellence, +Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. +O, two such silver currents, when they join, +Do glorify the banks that bound them in; +And two such shores to two such streams made one, +Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, +To these two princes, if you marry them. +This union shall do more than battery can +To our fast-closed gates; for at this match, +With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, +The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, +And give you entrance: but without this match, +The sea enraged is not half so deaf, +Lions more confident, mountains and rocks +More free from motion, no, not Death himself +In moral fury half so peremptory, +As we to keep this city. + +BASTARD +Here's a stay +That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death +Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, +That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas, +Talks as familiarly of roaring lions +As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! +What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? +He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce; +He gives the bastinado with his tongue: +Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his +But buffets better than a fist of France: +Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words +Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; +Give with our niece a dowry large enough: +For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie +Thy now unsured assurance to the crown, +That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe +The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. +I see a yielding in the looks of France; +Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls +Are capable of this ambition, +Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath +Of soft petitions, pity and remorse, +Cool and congeal again to what it was. + +First Citizen +Why answer not the double majesties +This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? + +KING PHILIP +Speak England first, that hath been forward first +To speak unto this city: what say you? + +KING JOHN +If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, +Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,' +Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: +For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, +And all that we upon this side the sea, +Except this city now by us besieged, +Find liable to our crown and dignity, +Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich +In titles, honours and promotions, +As she in beauty, education, blood, +Holds hand with any princess of the world. + +KING PHILIP +What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. + +LEWIS +I do, my lord; and in her eye I find +A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, +The shadow of myself form'd in her eye: +Which being but the shadow of your son, +Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow: +I do protest I never loved myself +Till now infixed I beheld myself +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. + +Whispers with BLANCH + +BASTARD +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! +Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! +And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy +Himself love's traitor: this is pity now, +That hang'd and drawn and quartered, there should be +In such a love so vile a lout as he. + +BLANCH +My uncle's will in this respect is mine: +If he see aught in you that makes him like, +That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, +I can with ease translate it to my will; +Or if you will, to speak more properly, +I will enforce it easily to my love. +Further I will not flatter you, my lord, +That all I see in you is worthy love, +Than this; that nothing do I see in you, +Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, +That I can find should merit any hate. + +KING JOHN +What say these young ones? What say you my niece? + +BLANCH +That she is bound in honour still to do +What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. + +KING JOHN +Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady? + +LEWIS +Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; +For I do love her most unfeignedly. + +KING JOHN +Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, +Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, +With her to thee; and this addition more, +Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. +Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, +Command thy son and daughter to join hands. + +KING PHILIP +It likes us well; young princes, close your hands. + +AUSTRIA +And your lips too; for I am well assured +That I did so when I was first assured. + +KING PHILIP +Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, +Let in that amity which you have made; +For at Saint Mary's chapel presently +The rites of marriage shall be solemnized. +Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? +I know she is not, for this match made up +Her presence would have interrupted much: +Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows. + +LEWIS +She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. + +KING PHILIP +And, by my faith, this league that we have made +Will give her sadness very little cure. +Brother of England, how may we content +This widow lady? In her right we came; +Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way, +To our own vantage. + +KING JOHN +We will heal up all; +For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne +And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town +We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance; +Some speedy messenger bid her repair +To our solemnity: I trust we shall, +If not fill up the measure of her will, +Yet in some measure satisfy her so +That we shall stop her exclamation. +Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, +To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp. + +Exeunt all but the BASTARD + +BASTARD +Mad world! mad kings! mad composition! +John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, +Hath willingly departed with a part, +And France, whose armour conscience buckled on, +Whom zeal and charity brought to the field +As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear +With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, +That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith, +That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, +Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, +Who, having no external thing to lose +But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that, +That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity, +Commodity, the bias of the world, +The world, who of itself is peised well, +Made to run even upon even ground, +Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, +This sway of motion, this Commodity, +Makes it take head from all indifferency, +From all direction, purpose, course, intent: +And this same bias, this Commodity, +This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, +Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, +Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, +From a resolved and honourable war, +To a most base and vile-concluded peace. +And why rail I on this Commodity? +But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: +Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, +When his fair angels would salute my palm; +But for my hand, as unattempted yet, +Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. +Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail +And say there is no sin but to be rich; +And being rich, my virtue then shall be +To say there is no vice but beggary. +Since kings break faith upon commodity, +Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee. + +Exit + +The Life and Death of Richard the Second +Shakespeare homepage | Richard II | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD II's palace. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other Nobles and Attendants +KING RICHARD II +Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, +Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD II +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, +If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD II +Then call them to our presence; face to face, +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak: +High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befal +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness; +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown! + +KING RICHARD II +We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come; +Namely to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +First, heaven be the record to my speech! +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tendering the precious safety of my prince, +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence. +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, +And mark my greeting well; for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth, +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain; +The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hush'd and nought at all to say: +First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; +Which else would post until it had return'd +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him; +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain: +Which to maintain I would allow him odds, +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, +Or any other ground inhabitable, +Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. +Mean time let this defend my loyalty, +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the king, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: +By that and all the rites of knighthood else, +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +I take it up; and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree, +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: +And when I mount, alive may I not light, +If I be traitor or unjustly fight! + +KING RICHARD II +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true; +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was survey'd by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. +Further I say and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood: +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries, +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, +To me for justice and rough chastisement; +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD II +How high a pitch his resolution soars! +Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood, +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD II +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears: +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow, +Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul: +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou: +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account, +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen: +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not; but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case. +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honourable father to my foe +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul +But ere I last received the sacrament +I did confess it, and exactly begg'd +Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. +This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd, +It issues from the rancour of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor +Which in myself I boldly will defend; +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +To prove myself a loyal gentleman +Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. +In haste whereof, most heartily I pray +Your highness to assign our trial day. + +KING RICHARD II +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me; +Let's purge this choler without letting blood: +This we prescribe, though no physician; +Deep malice makes too deep incision; +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age: +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD II +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: +The one my duty owes; but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD II +Rage must be withstood: +Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame. +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation: that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: +Take honour from me, and my life is done: +Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; +In that I live and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear, +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. + +Exit JOHN OF GAUNT + +KING RICHARD II +We were not born to sue, but to command; +Which since we cannot do to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day: +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate: +Since we can not atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry. +Lord marshal, command our officers at arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS +JOHN OF GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, +To stir against the butchers of his life! +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; +Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, +Or seven fair branches springing from one root: +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb, +That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death, +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair: +In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: +That which in mean men we intitle patience +Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully, +Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where then, alas, may I complain myself? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defence. + +DUCHESS +Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight: +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or, if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, +They may break his foaming courser's back, +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife +With her companion grief must end her life. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry: +As much good stay with thee as go with me! + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all:--nay, yet depart not so; +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there, +To seek out sorrow that dwells every where. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die: +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The lists at Coventry. + +Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE +Lord Marshal +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. + +Lord Marshal +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay +For nothing but his majesty's approach. + +The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms: +Ask him his name and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +In God's name and the king's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel: +Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; +As so defend thee heaven and thy valour! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk; +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me +And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me: +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armour, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby +Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, +To God of heaven, King Richard and to me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +Lord Marshal +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, +And bow my knee before his majesty: +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +Lord Marshal +The appellant in all duty greets your highness, +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD II +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight! +Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, +Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O let no noble eye profane a tear +For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you; +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: +O thou, the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, +Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, +And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous! +Be swift like lightning in the execution; +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just and upright gentleman: +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege, and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years: +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD II +Farewell, my lord: securely I espy +Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +Lord Marshal +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen. + +Lord Marshal +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. + +First Herald +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king and him; +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +Second Herald +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +Lord Marshal +Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. + +A charge sounded + +Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD II +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again: +Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. + +A long flourish + +Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; +Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood, +Therefore, we banish you our territories: +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done: this must my comfort be, +Sun that warms you here shall shine on me; +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile; +The hopeless word of 'never to return' +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your highness' hands. +The language I have learn'd these forty years, +My native English, now I must forego: +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony: +Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, +Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my gaoler to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now: +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? + +KING RICHARD II +It boots thee not to be compassionate: +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. + +KING RICHARD II +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God! +Embrace each other's love in banishment; +Nor never look upon each other's face; +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I swear. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +And I, to keep all this. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:-- +By this time, had the king permitted us, +One of our souls had wander'd in the air. +Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banish'd as from hence! +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know; +And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banish'd years +Pluck'd four away. + +To HENRY BOLINGBROKE + +Six frozen winter spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word: such is the breath of kings. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I thank my liege, that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile: +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times about +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD II +Why uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD II +Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge; but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. +Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, +I was too strict to make mine own away; +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so: +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +Lord Marshal +My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +What is six winters? they are quickly gone. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus; +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the king did banish thee, +But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit, +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour +And not the king exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime: +Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O, no! the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way: +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; +My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The court. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, with BAGOT and GREEN at one door; and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another +KING RICHARD II +We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD II +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD II +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +'Farewell:' +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells; +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD II +He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green +Observed his courtship to the common people; +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' +As were our England in reversion his, +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD II +We will ourself in person to this war: +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are inforced to farm our royal realm; +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand: if that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants; +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +Enter BUSHY + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste +To entreat your majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD II +Where lies he? + +BUSHY +At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD II +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: +Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! + +All +Amen. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Ely House. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT sick, with the DUKE OF YORK, & c +JOHN OF GAUNT +Will the king come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +DUKE OF YORK +Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony: +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. +He that no more must say is listen'd more +Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; +More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before: +The setting sun, and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past: +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +DUKE OF YORK +No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, +Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose: +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder: +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall, +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home, +For Christian service and true chivalry, +As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, +Like to a tenement or pelting farm: +England, bound in with the triumphant sea +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: +That England, that was wont to conquer others, +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +Enter KING RICHARD II and QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, LORD ROSS, and LORD WILLOUGHBY + +DUKE OF YORK +The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; +For young hot colts being raged do rage the more. + +QUEEN +How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD II +What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, +Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks; +And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. + +KING RICHARD II +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself: +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD II +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD II +Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD II +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; +Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. +Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee: +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; +And yet, incaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd, +Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king: +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou-- + +KING RICHARD II +A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son; +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused: +My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls! +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood: +Join with the present sickness that I have; +And thy unkindness be like crooked age, +To crop at once a too long wither'd flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be! +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: +Love they to live that love and honour have. + +Exit, borne off by his Attendants + +KING RICHARD II +And let them die that age and sullens have; +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +DUKE OF YORK +I do beseech your majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him: +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD II +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. + +KING RICHARD II +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, nothing; all is said +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +DUKE OF YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD II +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, corn, revenues and moveables, +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. + +DUKE OF YORK +How long shall I be patient? ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment +Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, +Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours; +But when he frown'd, it was against the French +And not against his friends; his noble hand +Did will what he did spend and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won; +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD II +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +DUKE OF YORK +O my liege, +Pardon me, if you please; if n ot, I, pleased +Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patent that he hath +By his attorneys-general to sue +His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts +And prick my tender patience, to those thoughts +Which honour and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD II +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money and his lands. + +DUKE OF YORK +I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: +What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight: +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. To-morrow next +We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow: +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York lord governor of England; +For he is just and always loved us well. +Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part; +Be merry, for our time of stay is short + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II, QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, and BAGOT + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +LORD ROSS +And living too; for now his son is duke. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +LORD ROSS +My heart is great; but it must break with silence, +Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man; +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +LORD ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him; +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many moe +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The king is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform, +Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, +That will the king severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +LORD ROSS +The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: +But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows: +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +LORD ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +LORD ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +LORD ROSS +We see the very wreck that we must suffer; +And unavoided is the danger now, +For suffering so the causes of our wreck. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +LORD ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland: +We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, +Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay +In Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint, +All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the king for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh; +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +LORD ROSS +To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT +BUSHY +Madam, your majesty is too much sad: +You promised, when you parted with the king, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the king I did; to please myself +I cannot do it; yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks, +Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves, +More than with parting from my lord the king. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, +Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; +For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects; +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail; +Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen; +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so; but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad +As, though on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief; mine is not so, +For nothing had begot my something grief; +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: +'Tis in reversion that I do possess; +But what it is, that is not yet known; what +I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. + +Enter GREEN + +GREEN +God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: +I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is; +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power, +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land: +The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN +Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, +And all the household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN +Who shall hinder me? +I will despair, and be at enmity +With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +Enter DUKE OF YORK + +GREEN +Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck: +O, full of careful business are his looks! +Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. + +DUKE OF YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: +Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off, +Whilst others come to make him lose at home: +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +DUKE OF YORK +He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! +The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: +Hold, take my ring. + +Servant +My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, +To-day, as I came by, I called there; +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +DUKE OF YORK +What is't, knave? + +Servant +An hour before I came, the duchess died. + +DUKE OF YORK +God for his mercy! what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do: I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The king had cut off my head with my brother's. +What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars? +Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me. +Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts +And bring away the armour that is there. + +Exit Servant + +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen: +The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; the other again +Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll +Dispose of you. +Gentlemen, go, muster up your men, +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too; +But time will not permit: all is uneven, +And every thing is left at six and seven. + +Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the king in love +Is near the hate of those love not the king. + +BAGOT +And that's the wavering commons: for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. + +BAGOT +If judgement lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the king. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle: +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you; for little office +The hateful commons will perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No; I will to Ireland to his majesty. +Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, +We three here art that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes +Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry: +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +The Life and Death of Richard the Third +Shakespeare homepage | Richard III | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, solus +GLOUCESTER +Now is the winter of our discontent +Made glorious summer by this sun of York; +And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house +In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. +Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; +Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; +Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, +Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. +Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; +And now, instead of mounting barded steeds +To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, +He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber +To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. +But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, +Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; +I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty +To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; +I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, +Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, +Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time +Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, +And that so lamely and unfashionable +That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; +Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, +Have no delight to pass away the time, +Unless to spy my shadow in the sun +And descant on mine own deformity: +And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, +To entertain these fair well-spoken days, +I am determined to prove a villain +And hate the idle pleasures of these days. +Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, +By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams, +To set my brother Clarence and the king +In deadly hate the one against the other: +And if King Edward be as true and just +As I am subtle, false and treacherous, +This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, +About a prophecy, which says that 'G' +Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. +Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here +Clarence comes. + +Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY + +Brother, good day; what means this armed guard +That waits upon your grace? + +CLARENCE +His majesty +Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed +This conduct to convey me to the Tower. + +GLOUCESTER +Upon what cause? + +CLARENCE +Because my name is George. + +GLOUCESTER +Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; +He should, for that, commit your godfathers: +O, belike his majesty hath some intent +That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower. +But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? + +CLARENCE +Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest +As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, +He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; +And from the cross-row plucks the letter G. +And says a wizard told him that by G +His issue disinherited should be; +And, for my name of George begins with G, +It follows in his thought that I am he. +These, as I learn, and such like toys as these +Have moved his highness to commit me now. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women: +'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower: +My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she +That tempers him to this extremity. +Was it not she and that good man of worship, +Anthony Woodville, her brother there, +That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, +From whence this present day he is deliver'd? +We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I think there's no man is secure +But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds +That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. +Heard ye not what an humble suppliant +Lord hastings was to her for his delivery? + +GLOUCESTER +Humbly complaining to her deity +Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. +I'll tell you what; I think it is our way, +If we will keep in favour with the king, +To be her men and wear her livery: +The jealous o'erworn widow and herself, +Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen. +Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your graces both to pardon me; +His majesty hath straitly given in charge +That no man shall have private conference, +Of what degree soever, with his brother. + +GLOUCESTER +Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, +You may partake of any thing we say: +We speak no treason, man: we say the king +Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen +Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; +We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, +A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; +And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks: +How say you sir? Can you deny all this? + +BRAKENBURY +With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. + +GLOUCESTER +Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow, +He that doth naught with her, excepting one, +Were best he do it secretly, alone. + +BRAKENBURY +What one, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me? + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal +Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + +CLARENCE +We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. + +GLOUCESTER +We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. +Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; +And whatsoever you will employ me in, +Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, +I will perform it to enfranchise you. +Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood +Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + +CLARENCE +I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; +Meantime, have patience. + +CLARENCE +I must perforce. Farewell. + +Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard + +GLOUCESTER +Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. +Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, +That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, +If heaven will take the present at our hands. +But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? + +Enter HASTINGS + +HASTINGS +Good time of day unto my gracious lord! + +GLOUCESTER +As much unto my good lord chamberlain! +Well are you welcome to the open air. +How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? + +HASTINGS +With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: +But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks +That were the cause of my imprisonment. + +GLOUCESTER +No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; +For they that were your enemies are his, +And have prevail'd as much on him as you. + +HASTINGS +More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, +While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +What news abroad? + +HASTINGS +No news so bad abroad as this at home; +The King is sickly, weak and melancholy, +And his physicians fear him mightily. + +GLOUCESTER +Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. +O, he hath kept an evil diet long, +And overmuch consumed his royal person: +'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. +What, is he in his bed? + +HASTINGS +He is. + +GLOUCESTER +Go you before, and I will follow you. + +Exit HASTINGS + +He cannot live, I hope; and must not die +Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven. +I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, +With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; +And, if I fall not in my deep intent, +Clarence hath not another day to live: +Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, +And leave the world for me to bustle in! +For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. +What though I kill'd her husband and her father? +The readiest way to make the wench amends +Is to become her husband and her father: +The which will I; not all so much for love +As for another secret close intent, +By marrying her which I must reach unto. +But yet I run before my horse to market: +Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: +When they are gone, then must I count my gains. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. Another street. + +Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner +LADY ANNE +Set down, set down your honourable load, +If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, +Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament +The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. +Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! +Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! +Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! +Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, +To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne, +Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, +Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! +Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, +I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. +Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! +Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it! +Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! +More direful hap betide that hated wretch, +That makes us wretched by the death of thee, +Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, +Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! +If ever he have child, abortive be it, +Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, +Whose ugly and unnatural aspect +May fright the hopeful mother at the view; +And that be heir to his unhappiness! +If ever he have wife, let her he made +A miserable by the death of him +As I am made by my poor lord and thee! +Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, +Taken from Paul's to be interred there; +And still, as you are weary of the weight, +Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + +LADY ANNE +What black magician conjures up this fiend, +To stop devoted charitable deeds? + +GLOUCESTER +Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, +I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. + +Gentleman +My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. + +GLOUCESTER +Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: +Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, +Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, +And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. + +LADY ANNE +What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? +Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, +And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. +Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! +Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, +His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone. + +GLOUCESTER +Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + +LADY ANNE +Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; +For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, +Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. +If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, +Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. +O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds +Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! +Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity; +For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood +From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; +Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, +Provokes this deluge most unnatural. +O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death! +O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death! +Either heaven with lightning strike the +murderer dead, +Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, +As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood +Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! + +GLOUCESTER +Lady, you know no rules of charity, +Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + +LADY ANNE +Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: +No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + +GLOUCESTER +But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + +LADY ANNE +O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + +GLOUCESTER +More wonderful, when angels are so angry. +Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, +Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, +By circumstance, but to acquit myself. + +LADY ANNE +Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man, +For these known evils, but to give me leave, +By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. + +GLOUCESTER +Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have +Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make +No excuse current, but to hang thyself. + +GLOUCESTER +By such despair, I should accuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; +For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, +Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + +GLOUCESTER +Say that I slew them not? + +LADY ANNE +Why, then they are not dead: +But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee. + +GLOUCESTER +I did not kill your husband. + +LADY ANNE +Why, then he is alive. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. + +LADY ANNE +In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw +Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; +The which thou once didst bend against her breast, +But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + +GLOUCESTER +I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, +which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + +LADY ANNE +Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. +Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries: +Didst thou not kill this king? + +GLOUCESTER +I grant ye. + +LADY ANNE +Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too +Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! +O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! + +GLOUCESTER +The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. + +LADY ANNE +He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; +For he was fitter for that place than earth. + +LADY ANNE +And thou unfit for any place but hell. + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + +LADY ANNE +Some dungeon. + +GLOUCESTER +Your bed-chamber. + +LADY ANNE +I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + +GLOUCESTER +So will it, madam till I lie with you. + +LADY ANNE +I hope so. + +GLOUCESTER +I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, +To leave this keen encounter of our wits, +And fall somewhat into a slower method, +Is not the causer of the timeless deaths +Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, +As blameful as the executioner? + +LADY ANNE +Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. + +GLOUCESTER +Your beauty was the cause of that effect; +Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep +To undertake the death of all the world, +So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + +LADY ANNE +If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, +These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. + +GLOUCESTER +These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck; +You should not blemish it, if I stood by: +As all the world is cheered by the sun, +So I by that; it is my day, my life. + +LADY ANNE +Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! + +GLOUCESTER +Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both. + +LADY ANNE +I would I were, to be revenged on thee. + +GLOUCESTER +It is a quarrel most unnatural, +To be revenged on him that loveth you. + +LADY ANNE +It is a quarrel just and reasonable, +To be revenged on him that slew my husband. + +GLOUCESTER +He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, +Did it to help thee to a better husband. + +LADY ANNE +His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + +GLOUCESTER +He lives that loves thee better than he could. + +LADY ANNE +Name him. + +GLOUCESTER +Plantagenet. + +LADY ANNE +Why, that was he. + +GLOUCESTER +The selfsame name, but one of better nature. + +LADY ANNE +Where is he? + +GLOUCESTER +Here. + +She spitteth at him + +Why dost thou spit at me? + +LADY ANNE +Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! + +GLOUCESTER +Never came poison from so sweet a place. + +LADY ANNE +Never hung poison on a fouler toad. +Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. + +GLOUCESTER +Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + +LADY ANNE +Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! + +GLOUCESTER +I would they were, that I might die at once; +For now they kill me with a living death. +Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, +Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops: +These eyes that never shed remorseful tear, +No, when my father York and Edward wept, +To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made +When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; +Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, +Told the sad story of my father's death, +And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, +That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks +Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time +My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; +And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, +Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. +I never sued to friend nor enemy; +My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; +But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, +My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. + +She looks scornfully at him + +Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made +For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. +If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, +Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; +Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom. +And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, +I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, +And humbly beg the death upon my knee. + +He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword + +Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry, +But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. +Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward, +But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. + +Here she lets fall the sword + +Take up the sword again, or take up me. + +LADY ANNE +Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, +I will not be the executioner. + +GLOUCESTER +Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + +LADY ANNE +I have already. + +GLOUCESTER +Tush, that was in thy rage: +Speak it again, and, even with the word, +That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, +Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; +To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. + +LADY ANNE +I would I knew thy heart. + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis figured in my tongue. + +LADY ANNE +I fear me both are false. + +GLOUCESTER +Then never man was true. + +LADY ANNE +Well, well, put up your sword. + +GLOUCESTER +Say, then, my peace is made. + +LADY ANNE +That shall you know hereafter. + +GLOUCESTER +But shall I live in hope? + +LADY ANNE +All men, I hope, live so. + +GLOUCESTER +Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + +LADY ANNE +To take is not to give. + +GLOUCESTER +Look, how this ring encompasseth finger. +Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; +Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. +And if thy poor devoted suppliant may +But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, +Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. + +LADY ANNE +What is it? + +GLOUCESTER +That it would please thee leave these sad designs +To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, +And presently repair to Crosby Place; +Where, after I have solemnly interr'd +At Chertsey monastery this noble king, +And wet his grave with my repentant tears, +I will with all expedient duty see you: +For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you, +Grant me this boon. + +LADY ANNE +With all my heart; and much it joys me too, +To see you are become so penitent. +Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + +GLOUCESTER +Bid me farewell. + +LADY ANNE +'Tis more than you deserve; +But since you teach me how to flatter you, +Imagine I have said farewell already. + +Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY + +GLOUCESTER +Sirs, take up the corse. + +GENTLEMEN +Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + +GLOUCESTER +No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? +Was ever woman in this humour won? +I'll have her; but I will not keep her long. +What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, +To take her in her heart's extremest hate, +With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, +The bleeding witness of her hatred by; +Having God, her conscience, and these bars +against me, +And I nothing to back my suit at all, +But the plain devil and dissembling looks, +And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! +Ha! +Hath she forgot already that brave prince, +Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, +Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? +A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, +Framed in the prodigality of nature, +Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, +The spacious world cannot again afford +And will she yet debase her eyes on me, +That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, +And made her widow to a woful bed? +On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? +On me, that halt and am unshapen thus? +My dukedom to a beggarly denier, +I do mistake my person all this while: +Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, +Myself to be a marvellous proper man. +I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, +And entertain some score or two of tailors, +To study fashions to adorn my body: +Since I am crept in favour with myself, +Will maintain it with some little cost. +But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave; +And then return lamenting to my love. +Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, +That I may see my shadow as I pass. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY +RIVERS +Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty +Will soon recover his accustom'd health. + +GREY +In that you brook it in, it makes him worse: +Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, +And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +If he were dead, what would betide of me? + +RIVERS +No other harm but loss of such a lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The loss of such a lord includes all harm. + +GREY +The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, +To be your comforter when he is gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, he is young and his minority +Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, +A man that loves not me, nor none of you. + +RIVERS +Is it concluded that he shall be protector? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +It is determined, not concluded yet: +But so it must be, if the king miscarry. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY + +GREY +Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby. + +BUCKINGHAM +Good time of day unto your royal grace! + +DERBY +God make your majesty joyful as you have been! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby. +To your good prayers will scarcely say amen. +Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife, +And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured +I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + +DERBY +I do beseech you, either not believe +The envious slanders of her false accusers; +Or, if she be accused in true report, +Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds +From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. + +RIVERS +Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby? + +DERBY +But now the Duke of Buckingham and I +Are come from visiting his majesty. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What likelihood of his amendment, lords? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +God grant him health! Did you confer with him? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement +Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, +And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; +And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Would all were well! but that will never be +I fear our happiness is at the highest. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET + +GLOUCESTER +They do me wrong, and I will not endure it: +Who are they that complain unto the king, +That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? +By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly +That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. +Because I cannot flatter and speak fair, +Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog, +Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, +I must be held a rancorous enemy. +Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, +But thus his simple truth must be abused +By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + +RIVERS +To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? + +GLOUCESTER +To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. +When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong? +Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction? +A plague upon you all! His royal person,-- +Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-- +Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while, +But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. +The king, of his own royal disposition, +And not provoked by any suitor else; +Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, +Which in your outward actions shows itself +Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, +Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather +The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad, +That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch: +Since every Jack became a gentleman +There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Come, come, we know your meaning, brother +Gloucester; +You envy my advancement and my friends': +God grant we never may have need of you! + +GLOUCESTER +Meantime, God grants that we have need of you: +Your brother is imprison'd by your means, +Myself disgraced, and the nobility +Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions +Are daily given to ennoble those +That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +By Him that raised me to this careful height +From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, +I never did incense his majesty +Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been +An earnest advocate to plead for him. +My lord, you do me shameful injury, +Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + +GLOUCESTER +You may deny that you were not the cause +Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + +RIVERS +She may, my lord, for-- + +GLOUCESTER +She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so? +She may do more, sir, than denying that: +She may help you to many fair preferments, +And then deny her aiding hand therein, +And lay those honours on your high deserts. +What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she-- + +RIVERS +What, marry, may she? + +GLOUCESTER +What, marry, may she! marry with a king, +A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: +I wis your grandam had a worser match. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne +Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs: +By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty +With those gross taunts I often have endured. +I had rather be a country servant-maid +Than a great queen, with this condition, +To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at: + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind + +Small joy have I in being England's queen. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! +Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. + +GLOUCESTER +What! threat you me with telling of the king? +Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said +I will avouch in presence of the king: +I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. +'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Out, devil! I remember them too well: +Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower, +And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. + +GLOUCESTER +Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king, +I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; +A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, +A liberal rewarder of his friends: +To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Yea, and much better blood than his or thine. + +GLOUCESTER +In all which time you and your husband Grey +Were factious for the house of Lancaster; +And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband +In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? +Let me put in your minds, if you forget, +What you have been ere now, and what you are; +Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A murderous villain, and so still thou art. + +GLOUCESTER +Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick; +Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!-- + +QUEEN MARGARET +Which God revenge! + +GLOUCESTER +To fight on Edward's party for the crown; +And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. +I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's; +Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine +I am too childish-foolish for this world. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, +Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. + +RIVERS +My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days +Which here you urge to prove us enemies, +We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king: +So should we you, if you should be our king. + +GLOUCESTER +If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar: +Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As little joy, my lord, as you suppose +You should enjoy, were you this country's king, +As little joy may you suppose in me. +That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; +For I am she, and altogether joyless. +I can no longer hold me patient. + +Advancing + +Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out +In sharing that which you have pill'd from me! +Which of you trembles not that looks on me? +If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, +Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels? +O gentle villain, do not turn away! + +GLOUCESTER +Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; +That will I make before I let thee go. + +GLOUCESTER +Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I was; but I do find more pain in banishment +Than death can yield me here by my abode. +A husband and a son thou owest to me; +And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance: +The sorrow that I have, by right is yours, +And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + +GLOUCESTER +The curse my noble father laid on thee, +When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper +And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, +And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout +Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-- +His curses, then from bitterness of soul +Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; +And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +So just is God, to right the innocent. + +HASTINGS +O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, +And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + +RIVERS +Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + +DORSET +No man but prophesied revenge for it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What were you snarling all before I came, +Ready to catch each other by the throat, +And turn you all your hatred now on me? +Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven? +That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, +Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, +Could all but answer for that peevish brat? +Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? +Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! +If not by war, by surfeit die your king, +As ours by murder, to make him a king! +Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, +For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales, +Die in his youth by like untimely violence! +Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, +Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! +Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss; +And see another, as I see thee now, +Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! +Long die thy happy days before thy death; +And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, +Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen! +Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by, +And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son +Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, +That none of you may live your natural age, +But by some unlook'd accident cut off! + +GLOUCESTER +Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! + +QUEEN MARGARET +And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. +If heaven have any grievous plague in store +Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, +O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, +And then hurl down their indignation +On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! +The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! +Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, +And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! +No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, +Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream +Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! +Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! +Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity +The slave of nature and the son of hell! +Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! +Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! +Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- + +GLOUCESTER +Margaret. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Richard! + +GLOUCESTER +Ha! + +QUEEN MARGARET +I call thee not. + +GLOUCESTER +I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought +That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. +O, let me make the period to my curse! + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.' + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune! +Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, +Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? +Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. +The time will come when thou shalt wish for me +To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad. + +HASTINGS +False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, +Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine. + +RIVERS +Were you well served, you would be taught your duty. + +QUEEN MARGARET +To serve me well, you all should do me duty, +Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: +O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + +DORSET +Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, master marquess, you are malapert: +Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. +O, that your young nobility could judge +What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! +They that stand high have many blasts to shake them; +And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. + +GLOUCESTER +Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess. + +DORSET +It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me. + +GLOUCESTER +Yea, and much more: but I was born so high, +Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, +And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas! +Witness my son, now in the shade of death; +Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath +Hath in eternal darkness folded up. +Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. +O God, that seest it, do not suffer it! +As it was won with blood, lost be it so! + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done! for shame, if not for charity. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Urge neither charity nor shame to me: +Uncharitably with me have you dealt, +And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. +My charity is outrage, life my shame +And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage. + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done, have done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand, +In sign of league and amity with thee: +Now fair befal thee and thy noble house! +Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, +Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nor no one here; for curses never pass +The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, +And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. +O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! +Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, +His venom tooth will rankle to the death: +Have not to do with him, beware of him; +Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, +And all their ministers attend on him. + +GLOUCESTER +What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? +And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? +O, but remember this another day, +When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, +And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! +Live each of you the subjects to his hate, +And he to yours, and all of you to God's! + +Exit + +HASTINGS +My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. + +RIVERS +And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, +She hath had too much wrong; and I repent +My part thereof that I have done to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I never did her any, to my knowledge. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have all the vantage of her wrong. +I was too hot to do somebody good, +That is too cold in thinking of it now. +Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid, +He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains +God pardon them that are the cause of it! + +RIVERS +A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, +To pray for them that have done scathe to us. + +GLOUCESTER +So do I ever: + +Aside + +being well-advised. +For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. + +Enter CATESBY + +CATESBY +Madam, his majesty doth call for you, +And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? + +RIVERS +Madam, we will attend your grace. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. +The secret mischiefs that I set abroach +I lay unto the grievous charge of others. +Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, +I do beweep to many simple gulls +Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham; +And say it is the queen and her allies +That stir the king against the duke my brother. +Now, they believe it; and withal whet me +To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: +But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, +Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: +And thus I clothe my naked villany +With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; +And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. + +Enter two Murderers + +But, soft! here come my executioners. +How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! +Are you now going to dispatch this deed? + +First Murderer +We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant +That we may be admitted where he is. + +GLOUCESTER +Well thought upon; I have it here about me. + +Gives the warrant + +When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. +But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, +Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; +For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps +May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. + +First Murderer +Tush! +Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; +Talkers are no good doers: be assured +We come to use our hands and not our tongues. + +GLOUCESTER +Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears: +I like you, lads; about your business straight; +Go, go, dispatch. + +First Murderer +We will, my noble lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Tower. + +Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY +BRAKENBURY +Why looks your grace so heavily today? + +CLARENCE +O, I have pass'd a miserable night, +So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, +That, as I am a Christian faithful man, +I would not spend another such a night, +Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, +So full of dismal terror was the time! + +BRAKENBURY +What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower, +And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; +And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; +Who from my cabin tempted me to walk +Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England, +And cited up a thousand fearful times, +During the wars of York and Lancaster +That had befall'n us. As we paced along +Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, +Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling, +Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, +Into the tumbling billows of the main. +Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! +What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! +What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! +Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; +Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; +Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, +Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, +All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: +Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes +Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, +As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, +Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, +And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. + +BRAKENBURY +Had you such leisure in the time of death +To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? + +CLARENCE +Methought I had; and often did I strive +To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood +Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth +To seek the empty, vast and wandering air; +But smother'd it within my panting bulk, +Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. + +BRAKENBURY +Awaked you not with this sore agony? + +CLARENCE +O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; +O, then began the tempest to my soul, +Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, +With that grim ferryman which poets write of, +Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. +The first that there did greet my stranger soul, +Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; +Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury +Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' +And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by +A shadow like an angel, with bright hair +Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud, +'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, +That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; +Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!' +With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends +Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears +Such hideous cries, that with the very noise +I trembling waked, and for a season after +Could not believe but that I was in hell, +Such terrible impression made the dream. + +BRAKENBURY +No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you; +I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +O Brakenbury, I have done those things, +Which now bear evidence against my soul, +For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me! +O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, +But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, +Yet execute thy wrath in me alone, +O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! +I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; +My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + +BRAKENBURY +I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! + +CLARENCE sleeps + +Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, +Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. +Princes have but their tides for their glories, +An outward honour for an inward toil; +And, for unfelt imagination, +They often feel a world of restless cares: +So that, betwixt their tides and low names, +There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + +Enter the two Murderers + +First Murderer +Ho! who's here? + +BRAKENBURY +In God's name what are you, and how came you hither? + +First Murderer +I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. + +BRAKENBURY +Yea, are you so brief? + +Second Murderer +O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show +him our commission; talk no more. + +BRAKENBURY reads it + +BRAKENBURY +I am, in this, commanded to deliver +The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: +I will not reason what is meant hereby, +Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. +Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep: +I'll to the king; and signify to him +That thus I have resign'd my charge to you. + +First Murderer +Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. + +Exit BRAKENBURY + +Second Murderer +What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? + +First Murderer +No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. + +Second Murderer +When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till +the judgment-day. + +First Murderer +Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping. + +Second Murderer +The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind +of remorse in me. + +First Murderer +What, art thou afraid? + +Second Murderer +Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be +damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us. + +First Murderer +I thought thou hadst been resolute. + +Second Murderer +So I am, to let him live. + +First Murderer +Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so. + +Second Murderer +I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour +will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one +would tell twenty. + +First Murderer +How dost thou feel thyself now? + +Second Murderer +'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet +within me. + +First Murderer +Remember our reward, when the deed is done. + +Second Murderer +'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward. + +First Murderer +Where is thy conscience now? + +Second Murderer +In the Duke of Gloucester's purse. + +First Murderer +So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, +thy conscience flies out. + +Second Murderer +Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it. + +First Murderer +How if it come to thee again? + +Second Murderer +I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it +makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it +accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him; +he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it +detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that +mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of +obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold +that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it +is turned out of all towns and cities for a +dangerous thing; and every man that means to live +well endeavours to trust to himself and to live +without it. + +First Murderer +'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me +not to kill the duke. + +Second Murderer +Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he +would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. + +First Murderer +Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me, +I warrant thee. + +Second Murderer +Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his +reputation. Come, shall we to this gear? + +First Murderer +Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy +sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt +in the next room. + +Second Murderer +O excellent devise! make a sop of him. + +First Murderer +Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? + +Second Murderer +No, first let's reason with him. + +CLARENCE +Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. + +Second murderer +You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. + +CLARENCE +In God's name, what art thou? + +Second Murderer +A man, as you are. + +CLARENCE +But not, as I am, royal. + +Second Murderer +Nor you, as we are, loyal. + +CLARENCE +Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + +Second Murderer +My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. + +CLARENCE +How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! +Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? +Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + +Both +To, to, to-- + +CLARENCE +To murder me? + +Both +Ay, ay. + +CLARENCE +You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, +And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. +Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + +First Murderer +Offended us you have not, but the king. + +CLARENCE +I shall be reconciled to him again. + +Second Murderer +Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. + +CLARENCE +Are you call'd forth from out a world of men +To slay the innocent? What is my offence? +Where are the evidence that do accuse me? +What lawful quest have given their verdict up +Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced +The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? +Before I be convict by course of law, +To threaten me with death is most unlawful. +I charge you, as you hope to have redemption +By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, +That you depart and lay no hands on me +The deed you undertake is damnable. + +First Murderer +What we will do, we do upon command. + +Second Murderer +And he that hath commanded is the king. + +CLARENCE +Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings +Hath in the tables of his law commanded +That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then, +Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's? +Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands, +To hurl upon their heads that break his law. + +Second Murderer +And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, +For false forswearing and for murder too: +Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, +To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. + +First Murderer +And, like a traitor to the name of God, +Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade +Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. + +Second Murderer +Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. + +First Murderer +How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, +When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? + +CLARENCE +Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? +For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs, +He sends ye not to murder me for this +For in this sin he is as deep as I. +If God will be revenged for this deed. +O, know you yet, he doth it publicly, +Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm; +He needs no indirect nor lawless course +To cut off those that have offended him. + +First Murderer +Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, +When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, +That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + +CLARENCE +My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + +First Murderer +Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, +Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me; +I am his brother, and I love him well. +If you be hired for meed, go back again, +And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, +Who shall reward you better for my life +Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + +Second Murderer +You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. + +CLARENCE +O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: +Go you to him from me. + +Both +Ay, so we will. + +CLARENCE +Tell him, when that our princely father York +Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, +And charged us from his soul to love each other, +He little thought of this divided friendship: +Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + +First Murderer +Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep. + +CLARENCE +O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + +First Murderer +Right, +As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself: +'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +It cannot be; for when I parted with him, +He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, +That he would labour my delivery. + +Second Murderer +Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee +From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven. + +First Murderer +Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. + +CLARENCE +Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, +To counsel me to make my peace with God, +And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, +That thou wilt war with God by murdering me? +Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on +To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + +Second Murderer +What shall we do? + +CLARENCE +Relent, and save your souls. + +First Murderer +Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish. + +CLARENCE +Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. +Which of you, if you were a prince's son, +Being pent from liberty, as I am now, +if two such murderers as yourselves came to you, +Would not entreat for life? +My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks: +O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, +Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, +As you would beg, were you in my distress +A begging prince what beggar pities not? + +Second Murderer +Look behind you, my lord. + +First Murderer +Take that, and that: if all this will not do, + +Stabs him + +I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. + +Exit, with the body + +Second Murderer +A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd! +How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands +Of this most grievous guilty murder done! + +Re-enter First Murderer + +First Murderer +How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? +By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art! + +Second Murderer +I would he knew that I had saved his brother! +Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; +For I repent me that the duke is slain. + +Exit + +First Murderer +So do not I: go, coward as thou art. +Now must I hide his body in some hole, +Until the duke take order for his burial: +And when I have my meed, I must away; +For this will out, and here I must not stay. + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others +KING EDWARD IV +Why, so: now have I done a good day's work: +You peers, continue this united league: +I every day expect an embassage +From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; +And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven, +Since I have set my friends at peace on earth. +Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand; +Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. + +RIVERS +By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate: +And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + +HASTINGS +So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! + +KING EDWARD IV +Take heed you dally not before your king; +Lest he that is the supreme King of kings +Confound your hidden falsehood, and award +Either of you to be the other's end. + +HASTINGS +So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! + +RIVERS +And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! + +KING EDWARD IV +Madam, yourself are not exempt in this, +Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you; +You have been factious one against the other, +Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; +And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Here, Hastings; I will never more remember +Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine! + +KING EDWARD IV +Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess. + +DORSET +This interchange of love, I here protest, +Upon my part shall be unviolable. + +HASTINGS +And so swear I, my lord + +They embrace + +KING EDWARD IV +Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league +With thy embracements to my wife's allies, +And make me happy in your unity. + +BUCKINGHAM +Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate +On you or yours, + +To the Queen + +but with all duteous love +Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me +With hate in those where I expect most love! +When I have most need to employ a friend, +And most assured that he is a friend +Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, +Be he unto me! this do I beg of God, +When I am cold in zeal to yours. + +KING EDWARD IV +A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, +is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. +There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here, +To make the perfect period of this peace. + +BUCKINGHAM +And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen: +And, princely peers, a happy time of day! + +KING EDWARD IV +Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. +Brother, we done deeds of charity; +Made peace enmity, fair love of hate, +Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. + +GLOUCESTER +A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege: +Amongst this princely heap, if any here, +By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, +Hold me a foe; +If I unwittingly, or in my rage, +Have aught committed that is hardly borne +By any in this presence, I desire +To reconcile me to his friendly peace: +'Tis death to me to be at enmity; +I hate it, and desire all good men's love. +First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, +Which I will purchase with my duteous service; +Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, +If ever any grudge were lodged between us; +Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you; +That without desert have frown'd on me; +Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. +I do not know that Englishman alive +With whom my soul is any jot at odds +More than the infant that is born to-night +I thank my God for my humility. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A holy day shall this be kept hereafter: +I would to God all strifes were well compounded. +My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty +To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this +To be so bouted in this royal presence? +Who knows not that the noble duke is dead? + +They all start + +You do him injury to scorn his corse. + +RIVERS +Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +All seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +BUCKINGHAM +Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +DORSET +Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence +But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. + +KING EDWARD IV +Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed. + +GLOUCESTER +But he, poor soul, by your first order died, +And that a winged Mercury did bear: +Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, +That came too lag to see him buried. +God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, +Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, +Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, +And yet go current from suspicion! + +Enter DERBY + +DORSET +A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! + +KING EDWARD IV +I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. + +DORSET +I will not rise, unless your highness grant. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st. + +DORSET +The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; +Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman +Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + +KING EDWARD IV +Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, +And shall the same give pardon to a slave? +My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, +And yet his punishment was cruel death. +Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, +Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised +Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? +Who told me how the poor soul did forsake +The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? +Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury +When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, +And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? +Who told me, when we both lay in the field +Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me +Even in his own garments, and gave himself, +All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? +All this from my remembrance brutish wrath +Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you +Had so much grace to put it in my mind. +But when your carters or your waiting-vassals +Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced +The precious image of our dear Redeemer, +You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; +And I unjustly too, must grant it you +But for my brother not a man would speak, +Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself +For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all +Have been beholding to him in his life; +Yet none of you would once plead for his life. +O God, I fear thy justice will take hold +On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! +Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. +Oh, poor Clarence! + +Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET + +GLOUCESTER +This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not +How that the guilty kindred of the queen +Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? +O, they did urge it still unto the king! +God will revenge it. But come, let us in, +To comfort Edward with our company. + +BUCKINGHAM +We wait upon your grace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE +Boy +Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +No, boy. + +Boy +Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast, +And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!' + +Girl +Why do you look on us, and shake your head, +And call us wretches, orphans, castaways +If that our noble father be alive? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; +I do lament the sickness of the king. +As loath to lose him, not your father's death; +It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + +Boy +Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. +The king my uncle is to blame for this: +God will revenge it; whom I will importune +With daily prayers all to that effect. + +Girl +And so will I. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: +Incapable and shallow innocents, +You cannot guess who caused your father's death. + +Boy +Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester +Told me, the king, provoked by the queen, +Devised impeachments to imprison him : +And when my uncle told me so, he wept, +And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; +Bade me rely on him as on my father, +And he would love me dearly as his child. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, +And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile! +He is my son; yea, and therein my shame; +Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + +Boy +Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ay, boy. + +Boy +I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, +To chide my fortune, and torment myself? +I'll join with black despair against my soul, +And to myself become an enemy. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What means this scene of rude impatience? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To make an act of tragic violence: +Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead. +Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd? +Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone? +If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, +That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; +Or, like obedient subjects, follow him +To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow +As I had title in thy noble husband! +I have bewept a worthy husband's death, +And lived by looking on his images: +But now two mirrors of his princely semblance +Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, +And I for comfort have but one false glass, +Which grieves me when I see my shame in him. +Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, +And hast the comfort of thy children left thee: +But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, +And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs, +Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I, +Thine being but a moiety of my grief, +To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries! + +Boy +Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death; +How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + +Girl +Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; +Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Give me no help in lamentation; +I am not barren to bring forth complaints +All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, +That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, +May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! +Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! + +Children +Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. + +Children +What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What stays had I but they? and they are gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Was never widow had so dear a loss! + +Children +Were never orphans had so dear a loss! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Was never mother had so dear a loss! +Alas, I am the mother of these moans! +Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. +She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; +I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: +These babes for Clarence weep and so do I; +I for an Edward weep, so do not they: +Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd, +Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, +And I will pamper it with lamentations. + +DORSET +Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased +That you take with unthankfulness, his doing: +In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful, +With dull unwilligness to repay a debt +Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; +Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, +For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + +RIVERS +Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, +Of the young prince your son: send straight for him +Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: +Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, +And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause +To wail the dimming of our shining star; +But none can cure their harms by wailing them. +Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; +I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee +I crave your blessing. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind, +Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man! +That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: +I marvel why her grace did leave it out. + +BUCKINGHAM +You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers, +That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, +Now cheer each other in each other's love +Though we have spent our harvest of this king, +We are to reap the harvest of his son. +The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts, +But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, +Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept: +Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, +Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd +Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. + +RIVERS +Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, +The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, +Which would be so much the more dangerous +By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd: +Where every horse bears his commanding rein, +And may direct his course as please himself, +As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, +In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + +GLOUCESTER +I hope the king made peace with all of us +And the compact is firm and true in me. + +RIVERS +And so in me; and so, I think, in all: +Yet, since it is but green, it should be put +To no apparent likelihood of breach, +Which haply by much company might be urged: +Therefore I say with noble Buckingham, +That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. + +HASTINGS +And so say I. + +GLOUCESTER +Then be it so; and go we to determine +Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. +Madam, and you, my mother, will you go +To give your censures in this weighty business? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH DUCHESS OF YORK +With all our harts. + +Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, +For God's sake, let not us two be behind; +For, by the way, I'll sort occasion, +As index to the story we late talk'd of, +To part the queen's proud kindred from the king. + +GLOUCESTER +My other self, my counsel's consistory, +My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin, +I, like a child, will go by thy direction. +Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. A street. + +Enter two Citizens meeting +First Citizen +Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast? + +Second Citizen +I promise you, I scarcely know myself: +Hear you the news abroad? + +First Citizen +Ay, that the king is dead. + +Second Citizen +Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: +I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world. + +Enter another Citizen + +Third Citizen +Neighbours, God speed! + +First Citizen +Give you good morrow, sir. + +Third Citizen +Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death? + +Second Citizen +Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! + +Third Citizen +Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. + +First Citizen +No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign. + +Third Citizen +Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child! + +Second Citizen +In him there is a hope of government, +That in his nonage council under him, +And in his full and ripen'd years himself, +No doubt, shall then and till then govern well. + +First Citizen +So stood the state when Henry the Sixth +Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. + +Third Citizen +Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot; +For then this land was famously enrich'd +With politic grave counsel; then the king +Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. + +The Tragedy of Coriolanus +Shakespeare homepage | Coriolanus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons +First Citizen +Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. + +All +Speak, speak. + +First Citizen +You are all resolved rather to die than to famish? + +All +Resolved. resolved. + +First Citizen +First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. + +All +We know't, we know't. + +First Citizen +Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. +Is't a verdict? + +All +No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away! + +Second Citizen +One word, good citizens. + +First Citizen +We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. +What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they +would yield us but the superfluity, while it were +wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; +but they think we are too dear: the leanness that +afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an +inventory to particularise their abundance; our +sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with +our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I +speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. + +Second Citizen +Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? + +All +Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty. + +Second Citizen +Consider you what services he has done for his country? + +First Citizen +Very well; and could be content to give him good +report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud. + +Second Citizen +Nay, but speak not maliciously. + +First Citizen +I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did +it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be +content to say it was for his country he did it to +please his mother and to be partly proud; which he +is, even till the altitude of his virtue. + +Second Citizen +What he cannot help in his nature, you account a +vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous. + +First Citizen +If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; +he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. + +Shouts within + +What shouts are these? The other side o' the city +is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol! + +All +Come, come. + +First Citizen +Soft! who comes here? + +Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA + +Second Citizen +Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved +the people. + +First Citizen +He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so! + +MENENIUS +What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you +With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you. + +First Citizen +Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have +had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, +which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor +suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we +have strong arms too. + +MENENIUS +Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, +Will you undo yourselves? + +First Citizen +We cannot, sir, we are undone already. + +MENENIUS +I tell you, friends, most charitable care +Have the patricians of you. For your wants, +Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well +Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them +Against the Roman state, whose course will on +The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs +Of more strong link asunder than can ever +Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, +The gods, not the patricians, make it, and +Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, +You are transported by calamity +Thither where more attends you, and you slander +The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers, +When you curse them as enemies. + +First Citizen +Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us +yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses +crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to +support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act +established against the rich, and provide more +piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain +the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and +there's all the love they bear us. + +MENENIUS +Either you must +Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, +Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you +A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; +But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture +To stale 't a little more. + +First Citizen +Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to +fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please +you, deliver. + +MENENIUS +There was a time when all the body's members +Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it: +That only like a gulf it did remain +I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive, +Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing +Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments +Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, +And, mutually participate, did minister +Unto the appetite and affection common +Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-- + +First Citizen +Well, sir, what answer made the belly? + +MENENIUS +Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile, +Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-- +For, look you, I may make the belly smile +As well as speak--it tauntingly replied +To the discontented members, the mutinous parts +That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +As you malign our senators for that +They are not such as you. + +First Citizen +Your belly's answer? What! +The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye, +The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, +Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter. +With other muniments and petty helps +In this our fabric, if that they-- + +MENENIUS +What then? +'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then? + +First Citizen +Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, +Who is the sink o' the body,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, what then? + +First Citizen +The former agents, if they did complain, +What could the belly answer? + +MENENIUS +I will tell you +If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little-- +Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer. + +First Citizen +Ye're long about it. + +MENENIUS +Note me this, good friend; +Your most grave belly was deliberate, +Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd: +'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he, +'That I receive the general food at first, +Which you do live upon; and fit it is, +Because I am the store-house and the shop +Of the whole body: but, if you do remember, +I send it through the rivers of your blood, +Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain; +And, through the cranks and offices of man, +The strongest nerves and small inferior veins +From me receive that natural competency +Whereby they live: and though that all at once, +You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,-- + +First Citizen +Ay, sir; well, well. + +MENENIUS +'Though all at once cannot +See what I do deliver out to each, +Yet I can make my audit up, that all +From me do back receive the flour of all, +And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't? + +First Citizen +It was an answer: how apply you this? + +MENENIUS +The senators of Rome are this good belly, +And you the mutinous members; for examine +Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly +Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find +No public benefit which you receive +But it proceeds or comes from them to you +And no way from yourselves. What do you think, +You, the great toe of this assembly? + +First Citizen +I the great toe! why the great toe? + +MENENIUS +For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest, +Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: +Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, +Lead'st first to win some vantage. +But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs: +Rome and her rats are at the point of battle; +The one side must have bale. + +Enter CAIUS MARCIUS + +Hail, noble Marcius! + +MARCIUS +Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, +That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, +Make yourselves scabs? + +First Citizen +We have ever your good word. + +MARCIUS +He that will give good words to thee will flatter +Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, +That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, +The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, +Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; +Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, +Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, +Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is +To make him worthy whose offence subdues him +And curse that justice did it. +Who deserves greatness +Deserves your hate; and your affections are +A sick man's appetite, who desires most that +Which would increase his evil. He that depends +Upon your favours swims with fins of lead +And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye? +With every minute you do change a mind, +And call him noble that was now your hate, +Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, +That in these several places of the city +You cry against the noble senate, who, +Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else +Would feed on one another? What's their seeking? + +MENENIUS +For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, +The city is well stored. + +MARCIUS +Hang 'em! They say! +They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know +What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise, +Who thrives and who declines; side factions +and give out +Conjectural marriages; making parties strong +And feebling such as stand not in their liking +Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's +grain enough! +Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, +And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry +With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high +As I could pick my lance. + +MENENIUS +Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; +For though abundantly they lack discretion, +Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, +What says the other troop? + +MARCIUS +They are dissolved: hang 'em! +They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs, +That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, +That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not +Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds +They vented their complainings; which being answer'd, +And a petition granted them, a strange one-- +To break the heart of generosity, +And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps +As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon, +Shouting their emulation. + +MENENIUS +What is granted them? + +MARCIUS +Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, +Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus, +Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath! +The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, +Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time +Win upon power and throw forth greater themes +For insurrection's arguing. + +MENENIUS +This is strange. + +MARCIUS +Go, get you home, you fragments! + +Enter a Messenger, hastily + +Messenger +Where's Caius Marcius? + +MARCIUS +Here: what's the matter? + +Messenger +The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent +Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders. + +Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS + +First Senator +Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us; +The Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +They have a leader, +Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't. +I sin in envying his nobility, +And were I any thing but what I am, +I would wish me only he. + +COMINIUS +You have fought together. + +MARCIUS +Were half to half the world by the ears and he. +Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make +Only my wars with him: he is a lion +That I am proud to hunt. + +First Senator +Then, worthy Marcius, +Attend upon Cominius to these wars. + +COMINIUS +It is your former promise. + +MARCIUS +Sir, it is; +And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou +Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. +What, art thou stiff? stand'st out? + +TITUS +No, Caius Marcius; +I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other, +Ere stay behind this business. + +MENENIUS +O, true-bred! + +First Senator +Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, +Our greatest friends attend us. + +TITUS +[To COMINIUS] Lead you on. + +To MARCIUS + +Right worthy you priority. + +COMINIUS +Noble Marcius! + +First Senator +[To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone! + +MARCIUS +Nay, let them follow: +The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither +To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners, +Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow. + +Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +SICINIUS +Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? + +BRUTUS +He has no equal. + +SICINIUS +When we were chosen tribunes for the people,-- + +BRUTUS +Mark'd you his lip and eyes? + +SICINIUS +Nay. but his taunts. + +BRUTUS +Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods. + +SICINIUS +Be-mock the modest moon. + +BRUTUS +The present wars devour him: he is grown +Too proud to be so valiant. + +SICINIUS +Such a nature, +Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow +Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder +His insolence can brook to be commanded +Under Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Fame, at the which he aims, +In whom already he's well graced, can not +Better be held nor more attain'd than by +A place below the first: for what miscarries +Shall be the general's fault, though he perform +To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure +Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he +Had borne the business!' + +SICINIUS +Besides, if things go well, +Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall +Of his demerits rob Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Come: +Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius. +Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults +To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed +In aught he merit not. + +SICINIUS +Let's hence, and hear +How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, +More than his singularity, he goes +Upon this present action. + +BRUTUS +Lets along. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Corioli. The Senate-house. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators +First Senator +So, your opinion is, Aufidius, +That they of Rome are entered in our counsels +And know how we proceed. + +AUFIDIUS +Is it not yours? +What ever have been thought on in this state, +That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome +Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone +Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think +I have the letter here; yes, here it is. + +Reads + +'They have press'd a power, but it is not known +Whether for east or west: the dearth is great; +The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd, +Cominius, Marcius your old enemy, +Who is of Rome worse hated than of you, +And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, +These three lead on this preparation +Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you: +Consider of it.' + +First Senator +Our army's in the field +We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready +To answer us. + +AUFIDIUS +Nor did you think it folly +To keep your great pretences veil'd till when +They needs must show themselves; which +in the hatching, +It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery. +We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was +To take in many towns ere almost Rome +Should know we were afoot. + +Second Senator +Noble Aufidius, +Take your commission; hie you to your bands: +Let us alone to guard Corioli: +If they set down before 's, for the remove +Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find +They've not prepared for us. + +AUFIDIUS +O, doubt not that; +I speak from certainties. Nay, more, +Some parcels of their power are forth already, +And only hitherward. I leave your honours. +If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet, +'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike +Till one can do no more. + +All +The gods assist you! + +AUFIDIUS +And keep your honours safe! + +First Senator +Farewell. + +Second Senator +Farewell. + +All +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rome. A room in Marcius' house. + +Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA they set them down on two low stools, and sew +VOLUMNIA +I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a +more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I +should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he +won honour than in the embracements of his bed where +he would show most love. When yet he was but +tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when +youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when +for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not +sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering +how honour would become such a person. that it was +no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if +renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek +danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel +war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows +bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not +more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child +than now in first seeing he had proved himself a +man. + +VIRGILIA +But had he died in the business, madam; how then? + +VOLUMNIA +Then his good report should have been my son; I +therein would have found issue. Hear me profess +sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love +alike and none less dear than thine and my good +Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their +country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. + +Enter a Gentlewoman + +Gentlewoman +Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. + +VIRGILIA +Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + +VOLUMNIA +Indeed, you shall not. +Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum, +See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair, +As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him: +Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus: +'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, +Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow +With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes, +Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow +Or all or lose his hire. + +VIRGILIA +His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood! + +VOLUMNIA +Away, you fool! it more becomes a man +Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba, +When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier +Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood +At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria, +We are fit to bid her welcome. + +Exit Gentlewoman + +VIRGILIA +Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + +VOLUMNIA +He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee +And tread upon his neck. + +Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman + +VALERIA +My ladies both, good day to you. + +VOLUMNIA +Sweet madam. + +VIRGILIA +I am glad to see your ladyship. + +VALERIA +How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. +What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good +faith. How does your little son? + +VIRGILIA +I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. + +VOLUMNIA +He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than +look upon his school-master. + +VALERIA +O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a +very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' +Wednesday half an hour together: has such a +confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded +butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go +again; and after it again; and over and over he +comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his +fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his +teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked +it! + +VOLUMNIA +One on 's father's moods. + +VALERIA +Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. + +VIRGILIA +A crack, madam. + +VALERIA +Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play +the idle husewife with me this afternoon. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam; I will not out of doors. + +VALERIA +Not out of doors! + +VOLUMNIA +She shall, she shall. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the +threshold till my lord return from the wars. + +VALERIA +Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, +you must go visit the good lady that lies in. + +VIRGILIA +I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with +my prayers; but I cannot go thither. + +VOLUMNIA +Why, I pray you? + +VIRGILIA +'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. + +VALERIA +You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all +the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill +Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric +were sensible as your finger, that you might leave +pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth. + +VALERIA +In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you +excellent news of your husband. + +VIRGILIA +O, good madam, there can be none yet. + +VALERIA +Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from +him last night. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, madam? + +VALERIA +In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. +Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against +whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of +our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set +down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt +prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true, +on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us. + +VIRGILIA +Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every +thing hereafter. + +VOLUMNIA +Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but +disease our better mirth. + +VALERIA +In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. +Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy +solemness out o' door. and go along with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish +you much mirth. + +VALERIA +Well, then, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Before Corioli. + +Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger +MARCIUS +Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. + +LARTIUS +My horse to yours, no. + +MARCIUS +'Tis done. + +LARTIUS +Agreed. + +MARCIUS +Say, has our general met the enemy? + +Messenger +They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. + +LARTIUS +So, the good horse is mine. + +MARCIUS +I'll buy him of you. + +LARTIUS +No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will +For half a hundred years. Summon the town. + +MARCIUS +How far off lie these armies? + +Messenger +Within this mile and half. + +MARCIUS +Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. +Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, +That we with smoking swords may march from hence, +To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast. + +They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls + +Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? + +First Senator +No, nor a man that fears you less than he, +That's lesser than a little. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! our drums +Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls, +Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates, +Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes; +They'll open of themselves. + +Alarum afar off + +Hark you. far off! +There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes +Amongst your cloven army. + +MARCIUS +O, they are at it! + +LARTIUS +Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! + +Enter the army of the Volsces + +MARCIUS +They fear us not, but issue forth their city. +Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight +With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, +brave Titus: +They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, +Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows: +He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, +And he shall feel mine edge. + +Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing + +MARCIUS +All the contagion of the south light on you, +You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues +Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd +Further than seen and one infect another +Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, +That bear the shapes of men, how have you run +From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! +All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale +With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home, +Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe +And make my wars on you: look to't: come on; +If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, +As they us to our trenches followed. + +Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates + +So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: +'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, +Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. + +Enters the gates + +First Soldier +Fool-hardiness; not I. + +Second Soldier +Nor I. + +MARCIUS is shut in + +First Soldier +See, they have shut him in. + +All +To the pot, I warrant him. + +Alarum continues + +Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS + +LARTIUS +What is become of Marcius? + +All +Slain, sir, doubtless. + +First Soldier +Following the fliers at the very heels, +With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, +Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone, +To answer all the city. + +LARTIUS +O noble fellow! +Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, +And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: +A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, +Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier +Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible +Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and +The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, +Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world +Were feverous and did tremble. + +Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy + +First Soldier +Look, sir. + +LARTIUS +O,'tis Marcius! +Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. + +They fight, and all enter the city + +SCENE V. Corioli. A street. + +Enter certain Romans, with spoils +First Roman +This will I carry to Rome. + +Second Roman +And I this. + +Third Roman +A murrain on't! I took this for silver. + +Alarum continues still afar off + +Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet + +MARCIUS +See here these movers that do prize their hours +At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, +Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would +Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, +Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! +And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! +There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, +Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take +Convenient numbers to make good the city; +Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste +To help Cominius. + +LARTIUS +Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; +Thy exercise hath been too violent for +A second course of fight. + +MARCIUS +Sir, praise me not; +My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well: +The blood I drop is rather physical +Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus +I will appear, and fight. + +LARTIUS +Now the fair goddess, Fortune, +Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms +Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, +Prosperity be thy page! + +MARCIUS +Thy friend no less +Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. + +LARTIUS +Thou worthiest Marcius! + +Exit MARCIUS + +Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; +Call thither all the officers o' the town, +Where they shall know our mind: away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers +COMINIUS +Breathe you, my friends: well fought; +we are come off +Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, +Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, +We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, +By interims and conveying gusts we have heard +The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods! +Lead their successes as we wish our own, +That both our powers, with smiling +fronts encountering, +May give you thankful sacrifice. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy news? + +Messenger +The citizens of Corioli have issued, +And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: +I saw our party to their trenches driven, +And then I came away. + +COMINIUS +Though thou speak'st truth, +Methinks thou speak'st not well. +How long is't since? + +Messenger +Above an hour, my lord. + +COMINIUS +'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: +How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour, +And bring thy news so late? + +Messenger +Spies of the Volsces +Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel +Three or four miles about, else had I, sir, +Half an hour since brought my report. + +COMINIUS +Who's yonder, +That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods +He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have +Before-time seen him thus. + +MARCIUS +[Within] Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour +More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue +From every meaner man. + +Enter MARCIUS + +MARCIUS +Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, +But mantled in your own. + +MARCIUS +O, let me clip ye +In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart +As merry as when our nuptial day was done, +And tapers burn'd to bedward! + +COMINIUS +Flower of warriors, +How is it with Titus Lartius? + +MARCIUS +As with a man busied about decrees: +Condemning some to death, and some to exile; +Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; +Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, +Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, +To let him slip at will. + +COMINIUS +Where is that slave +Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? +Where is he? call him hither. + +MARCIUS +Let him alone; +He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, +The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!-- +The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge +From rascals worse than they. + +COMINIUS +But how prevail'd you? + +MARCIUS +Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. +Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field? +If not, why cease you till you are so? + +COMINIUS +Marcius, +We have at disadvantage fought and did +Retire to win our purpose. + +MARCIUS +How lies their battle? know you on which side +They have placed their men of trust? + +COMINIUS +As I guess, Marcius, +Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates, +Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, +Their very heart of hope. + +MARCIUS +I do beseech you, +By all the battles wherein we have fought, +By the blood we have shed together, by the vows +We have made to endure friends, that you directly +Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates; +And that you not delay the present, but, +Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, +We prove this very hour. + +COMINIUS +Though I could wish +You were conducted to a gentle bath +And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never +Deny your asking: take your choice of those +That best can aid your action. + +MARCIUS +Those are they +That most are willing. If any such be here-- +As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting +Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear +Lesser his person than an ill report; +If any think brave death outweighs bad life +And that his country's dearer than himself; +Let him alone, or so many so minded, +Wave thus, to express his disposition, +And follow Marcius. + +They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps + +O, me alone! make you a sword of me? +If these shows be not outward, which of you +But is four Volsces? none of you but is +Able to bear against the great Aufidius +A shield as hard as his. A certain number, +Though thanks to all, must I select +from all: the rest +Shall bear the business in some other fight, +As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; +And four shall quickly draw out my command, +Which men are best inclined. + +COMINIUS +March on, my fellows: +Make good this ostentation, and you shall +Divide in all with us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The gates of Corioli. + +TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout +LARTIUS +So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties, +As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch +Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve +For a short holding: if we lose the field, +We cannot keep the town. + +Lieutenant +Fear not our care, sir. + +LARTIUS +Hence, and shut your gates upon's. +Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A field of battle. + +Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS +MARCIUS +I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee +Worse than a promise-breaker. + +AUFIDIUS +We hate alike: +Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor +More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. + +MARCIUS +Let the first budger die the other's slave, +And the gods doom him after! + +AUFIDIUS +If I fly, Marcius, +Holloa me like a hare. + +MARCIUS +Within these three hours, Tullus, +Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, +And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood +Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge +Wrench up thy power to the highest. + +AUFIDIUS +Wert thou the Hector +That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, +Thou shouldst not scape me here. + +They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in breathless + +Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me +In your condemned seconds. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. The Roman camp. + +Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf +COMINIUS +If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, +Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it +Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles, +Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, +I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted, +And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the +dull tribunes, +That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, +Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods +Our Rome hath such a soldier.' +Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, +Having fully dined before. + +Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit + +LARTIUS +O general, +Here is the steed, we the caparison: +Hadst thou beheld-- + +MARCIUS +Pray now, no more: my mother, +Who has a charter to extol her blood, +When she does praise me grieves me. I have done +As you have done; that's what I can; induced +As you have been; that's for my country: +He that has but effected his good will +Hath overta'en mine act. + +COMINIUS +You shall not be +The grave of your deserving; Rome must know +The value of her own: 'twere a concealment +Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, +To hide your doings; and to silence that, +Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, +Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you +In sign of what you are, not to reward +What you have done--before our army hear me. + +MARCIUS +I have some wounds upon me, and they smart +To hear themselves remember'd. + +COMINIUS +Should they not, +Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, +And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, +Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all +The treasure in this field achieved and city, +We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth, +Before the common distribution, at +Your only choice. + +MARCIUS +I thank you, general; +But cannot make my heart consent to take +A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it; +And stand upon my common part with those +That have beheld the doing. + +A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!' cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare + +MARCIUS +May these same instruments, which you profane, +Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall +I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be +Made all of false-faced soothing! +When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, +Let him be made a coverture for the wars! +No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd +My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.-- +Which, without note, here's many else have done,-- +You shout me forth +In acclamations hyperbolical; +As if I loved my little should be dieted +In praises sauced with lies. + +COMINIUS +Too modest are you; +More cruel to your good report than grateful +To us that give you truly: by your patience, +If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, +Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, +Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, +As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius +Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, +My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, +With all his trim belonging; and from this time, +For what he did before Corioli, call him, +With all the applause and clamour of the host, +CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear +The addition nobly ever! + +Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums + +All +Caius Marcius Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +I will go wash; +And when my face is fair, you shall perceive +Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you. +I mean to stride your steed, and at all times +To undercrest your good addition +To the fairness of my power. + +COMINIUS +So, to our tent; +Where, ere we do repose us, we will write +To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, +Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome +The best, with whom we may articulate, +For their own good and ours. + +LARTIUS +I shall, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +The gods begin to mock me. I, that now +Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg +Of my lord general. + +COMINIUS +Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? + +CORIOLANUS +I sometime lay here in Corioli +At a poor man's house; he used me kindly: +He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; +But then Aufidius was with in my view, +And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you +To give my poor host freedom. + +COMINIUS +O, well begg'd! +Were he the butcher of my son, he should +Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. + +LARTIUS +Marcius, his name? + +CORIOLANUS +By Jupiter! forgot. +I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. +Have we no wine here? + +COMINIUS +Go we to our tent: +The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time +It should be look'd to: come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces. + +A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers +AUFIDIUS +The town is ta'en! + +First Soldier +'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. + +AUFIDIUS +Condition! +I would I were a Roman; for I cannot, +Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition! +What good condition can a treaty find +I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, +I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me, +And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter +As often as we eat. By the elements, +If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, +He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation +Hath not that honour in't it had; for where +I thought to crush him in an equal force, +True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way +Or wrath or craft may get him. + +First Soldier +He's the devil. + +AUFIDIUS +Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd +With only suffering stain by him; for him +Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary, +Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, +The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, +Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up +Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst +My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it +At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, +Against the hospitable canon, would I +Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city; +Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must +Be hostages for Rome. + +First Soldier +Will not you go? + +AUFIDIUS +I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you-- +'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither +How the world goes, that to the pace of it +I may spur on my journey. + +First Soldier +I shall, sir. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. +MENENIUS +The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. + +BRUTUS +Good or bad? + +MENENIUS +Not according to the prayer of the people, for they +love not Marcius. + +SICINIUS +Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, who does the wolf love? + +SICINIUS +The lamb. + +MENENIUS +Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the +noble Marcius. + +BRUTUS +He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. + +MENENIUS +He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two +are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. + +Both +Well, sir. + +MENENIUS +In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two +have not in abundance? + +BRUTUS +He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. + +SICINIUS +Especially in pride. + +BRUTUS +And topping all others in boasting. + +MENENIUS +This is strange now: do you two know how you are +censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the +right-hand file? do you? + +Both +Why, how are we censured? + +MENENIUS +Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? + +Both +Well, well, sir, well. + +MENENIUS +Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of +occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: +give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at +your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a +pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for +being proud? + +BRUTUS +We do it not alone, sir. + +MENENIUS +I know you can do very little alone; for your helps +are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous +single: your abilities are too infant-like for +doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you +could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, +and make but an interior survey of your good selves! +O that you could! + +BRUTUS +What then, sir? + +MENENIUS +Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, +proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as +any in Rome. + +SICINIUS +Menenius, you are known well enough too. + +MENENIUS +I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that +loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying +Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in +favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like +upon too trivial motion; one that converses more +with the buttock of the night than with the forehead +of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my +malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as +you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink +you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a +crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have +delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in +compound with the major part of your syllables: and +though I must be content to bear with those that say +you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that +tell you you have good faces. If you see this in +the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known +well enough too? what barm can your bisson +conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be +known well enough too? + +BRUTUS +Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. + +MENENIUS +You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You +are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you +wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a +cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; +and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a +second day of audience. When you are hearing a +matter between party and party, if you chance to be +pinched with the colic, you make faces like +mummers; set up the bloody flag against all +patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, +dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled +by your hearing: all the peace you make in their +cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are +a pair of strange ones. + +BRUTUS +Come, come, you are well understood to be a +perfecter giber for the table than a necessary +bencher in the Capitol. + +MENENIUS +Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall +encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When +you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the +wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not +so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's +cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack- +saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; +who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors +since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the +best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to +your worships: more of your conversation would +infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly +plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you. + +BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA + +How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon, +were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow +your eyes so fast? + +VOLUMNIA +Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for +the love of Juno, let's go. + +MENENIUS +Ha! Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous +approbation. + +MENENIUS +Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! +Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA VIRGILIA +Nay,'tis true. + +VOLUMNIA +Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath +another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one +at home for you. + +MENENIUS +I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for +me! + +VIRGILIA +Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. + +MENENIUS +A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven +years' health; in which time I will make a lip at +the physician: the most sovereign prescription in +Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, +of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he +not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. + +VIRGILIA +O, no, no, no. + +VOLUMNIA +O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. + +MENENIUS +So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' +victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. + +VOLUMNIA +On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home +with the oaken garland. + +MENENIUS +Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? + +VOLUMNIA +Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but +Aufidius got off. + +MENENIUS +And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: +an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so +fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold +that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? + +VOLUMNIA +Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate +has letters from the general, wherein he gives my +son the whole name of the war: he hath in this +action outdone his former deeds doubly + +VALERIA +In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. + +MENENIUS +Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his +true purchasing. + +VIRGILIA +The gods grant them true! + +VOLUMNIA +True! pow, wow. + +MENENIUS +True! I'll be sworn they are true. +Where is he wounded? + +To the Tribunes + +God save your good worships! Marcius is coming +home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? + +VOLUMNIA +I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be +large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall +stand for his place. He received in the repulse of +Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. + +MENENIUS +One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's +nine that I know. + +VOLUMNIA +He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five +wounds upon him. + +MENENIUS +Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. + +A shout and flourish + +Hark! the trumpets. + +VOLUMNIA +These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he +carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: +Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; +Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. + +A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald + +Herald +Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight +Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, +With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these +In honour follows Coriolanus. +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +Flourish + +All +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +No more of this; it does offend my heart: +Pray now, no more. + +COMINIUS +Look, sir, your mother! + +CORIOLANUS +O, +You have, I know, petition'd all the gods +For my prosperity! + +Kneels + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, my good soldier, up; +My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and +By deed-achieving honour newly named,-- +What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?-- +But O, thy wife! + +CORIOLANUS +My gracious silence, hail! +Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, +That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, +Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, +And mothers that lack sons. + +MENENIUS +Now, the gods crown thee! + +CORIOLANUS +And live you yet? + +To VALERIA + +O my sweet lady, pardon. + +VOLUMNIA +I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: +And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all. + +MENENIUS +A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep +And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome. +A curse begin at very root on's heart, +That is not glad to see thee! You are three +That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, +We have some old crab-trees here +at home that will not +Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: +We call a nettle but a nettle and +The faults of fools but folly. + +COMINIUS +Ever right. + +CORIOLANUS +Menenius ever, ever. + +Herald +Give way there, and go on! + +CORIOLANUS +[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours: +Ere in our own house I do shade my head, +The good patricians must be visited; +From whom I have received not only greetings, +But with them change of honours. + +VOLUMNIA +I have lived +To see inherited my very wishes +And the buildings of my fancy: only +There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but +Our Rome will cast upon thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Know, good mother, +I had rather be their servant in my way, +Than sway with them in theirs. + +COMINIUS +On, to the Capitol! + +Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward + +BRUTUS +All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights +Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse +Into a rapture lets her baby cry +While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins +Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, +Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, +Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed +With variable complexions, all agreeing +In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens +Do press among the popular throngs and puff +To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames +Commit the war of white and damask in +Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil +Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother +As if that whatsoever god who leads him +Were slily crept into his human powers +And gave him graceful posture. + +SICINIUS +On the sudden, +I warrant him consul. + +BRUTUS +Then our office may, +During his power, go sleep. + +SICINIUS +He cannot temperately transport his honours +From where he should begin and end, but will +Lose those he hath won. + +BRUTUS +In that there's comfort. + +SICINIUS +Doubt not +The commoners, for whom we stand, but they +Upon their ancient malice will forget +With the least cause these his new honours, which +That he will give them make I as little question +As he is proud to do't. + +BRUTUS +I heard him swear, +Were he to stand for consul, never would he +Appear i' the market-place nor on him put +The napless vesture of humility; +Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds +To the people, beg their stinking breaths. + +SICINIUS +'Tis right. + +BRUTUS +It was his word: O, he would miss it rather +Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, +And the desire of the nobles. + +SICINIUS +I wish no better +Than have him hold that purpose and to put it +In execution. + +BRUTUS +'Tis most like he will. + +SICINIUS +It shall be to him then as our good wills, +A sure destruction. + +BRUTUS +So it must fall out +To him or our authorities. For an end, +We must suggest the people in what hatred +He still hath held them; that to's power he would +Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and +Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, +In human action and capacity, +Of no more soul nor fitness for the world +Than camels in the war, who have their provand +Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows +For sinking under them. + +SICINIUS +This, as you say, suggested +At some time when his soaring insolence +Shall touch the people--which time shall not want, +If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy +As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire +To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze +Shall darken him for ever. + +Enter a Messenger + +BRUTUS +What's the matter? + +Messenger +You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought +That Marcius shall be consul: +I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and +The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, +Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, +Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, +As to Jove's statue, and the commons made +A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts: +I never saw the like. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol; +And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, +But hearts for the event. + +SICINIUS +Have with you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Capitol. + +Enter two Officers, to lay cushions +First Officer +Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand +for consulships? + +Second Officer +Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one +Coriolanus will carry it. + +First Officer +That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and +loves not the common people. + +Second Officer +Faith, there had been many great men that have +flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there +be many that they have loved, they know not +wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, +they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for +Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate +him manifests the true knowledge he has in their +disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets +them plainly see't. + +First Officer +If he did not care whether he had their love or no, +he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither +good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater +devotion than can render it him; and leaves +nothing undone that may fully discover him their +opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and +displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he +dislikes, to flatter them for their love. + +Second Officer +He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his +ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, +having been supple and courteous to the people, +bonneted, without any further deed to have them at +an into their estimation and report: but he hath so +planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions +in their hearts, that for their tongues to be +silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of +ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a +malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck +reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it. + +First Officer +No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they +are coming. + +A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their places; the Tribunes take their Places by themselves. CORIOLANUS stands + +MENENIUS +Having determined of the Volsces and +To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, +As the main point of this our after-meeting, +To gratify his noble service that +Hath thus stood for his country: therefore, +please you, +Most reverend and grave elders, to desire +The present consul, and last general +In our well-found successes, to report +A little of that worthy work perform'd +By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom +We met here both to thank and to remember +With honours like himself. + +First Senator +Speak, good Cominius: +Leave nothing out for length, and make us think +Rather our state's defective for requital +Than we to stretch it out. + +To the Tribunes + +Masters o' the people, +We do request your kindest ears, and after, +Your loving motion toward the common body, +To yield what passes here. + +SICINIUS +We are convented +Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts +Inclinable to honour and advance +The theme of our assembly. + +BRUTUS +Which the rather +We shall be blest to do, if he remember +A kinder value of the people than +He hath hereto prized them at. + +MENENIUS +That's off, that's off; +I would you rather had been silent. Please you +To hear Cominius speak? + +BRUTUS +Most willingly; +But yet my caution was more pertinent +Than the rebuke you give it. + +MENENIUS +He loves your people +But tie him not to be their bedfellow. +Worthy Cominius, speak. + +CORIOLANUS offers to go away + +Nay, keep your place. + +First Senator +Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear +What you have nobly done. + +CORIOLANUS +Your horror's pardon: +I had rather have my wounds to heal again +Than hear say how I got them. + +BRUTUS +Sir, I hope +My words disbench'd you not. + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir: yet oft, +When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. +You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but +your people, +I love them as they weigh. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, sit down. + +CORIOLANUS +I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun +When the alarum were struck than idly sit +To hear my nothings monster'd. + +Exit + +MENENIUS +Masters of the people, +Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-- +That's thousand to one good one--when you now see +He had rather venture all his limbs for honour +Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus +Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held +That valour is the chiefest virtue, and +Most dignifies the haver: if it be, +The man I speak of cannot in the world +Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, +When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought +Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator, +Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight, +When with his Amazonian chin he drove +The bristled lips before him: be bestrid +An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view +Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met, +And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats, +When he might act the woman in the scene, +He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed +Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age +Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea, +And in the brunt of seventeen battles since +He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, +Before and in Corioli, let me say, +I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; +And by his rare example made the coward +Turn terror into sport: as weeds before +A vessel under sail, so men obey'd +And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, +Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot +He was a thing of blood, whose every motion +Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd +The mortal gate of the city, which he painted +With shunless destiny; aidless came off, +And with a sudden reinforcement struck +Corioli like a planet: now all's his: +When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce +His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit +Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, +And to the battle came he; where he did +Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if +'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd +Both field and city ours, he never stood +To ease his breast with panting. + +MENENIUS +Worthy man! + +First Senator +He cannot but with measure fit the honours +Which we devise him. + +COMINIUS +Our spoils he kick'd at, +And look'd upon things precious as they were +The common muck of the world: he covets less +Than misery itself would give; rewards +His deeds with doing them, and is content +To spend the time to end it. + +MENENIUS +He's right noble: +Let him be call'd for. + +First Senator +Call Coriolanus. + +Officer +He doth appear. + +Re-enter CORIOLANUS + +MENENIUS +The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased +To make thee consul. + +CORIOLANUS +I do owe them still +My life and services. + +MENENIUS +It then remains +That you do speak to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +I do beseech you, +Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot +Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them, +For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you +That I may pass this doing. + +SICINIUS +Sir, the people +Must have their voices; neither will they bate +One jot of ceremony. + +MENENIUS +Put them not to't: +Pray you, go fit you to the custom and +Take to you, as your predecessors have, +Your honour with your form. + +CORIOLANUS +It is apart +That I shall blush in acting, and might well +Be taken from the people. + +BRUTUS +Mark you that? + +CORIOLANUS +To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus; +Show them the unaching scars which I should hide, +As if I had received them for the hire +Of their breath only! + +MENENIUS +Do not stand upon't. +We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, +Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul +Wish we all joy and honour. + +Senators +To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! + +Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +BRUTUS +You see how he intends to use the people. + +SICINIUS +May they perceive's intent! He will require them, +As if he did contemn what he requested +Should be in them to give. + +BRUTUS +Come, we'll inform them +Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace, +I know, they do attend us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter seven or eight Citizens +First Citizen +Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. + +Second Citizen +We may, sir, if we will. + +Third Citizen +We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a +power that we have no power to do; for if he show us +his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our +tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if +he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him +our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is +monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful, +were to make a monster of the multitude: of the +which we being members, should bring ourselves to be +monstrous members. + +First Citizen +And to make us no better thought of, a little help +will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he +himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude. + +Third Citizen +We have been called so of many; not that our heads +are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, +but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and +truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of +one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, +and their consent of one direct way should be at +once to all the points o' the compass. + +Second Citizen +Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would +fly? + +Third Citizen +Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's +will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but +if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward. + +Second Citizen +Why that way? + +Third Citizen +To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts +melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return +for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife. + +Second Citizen +You are never without your tricks: you may, you may. + +Third Citizen +Are you all resolved to give your voices? But +that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I +say, if he would incline to the people, there was +never a worthier man. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility, with MENENIUS + +Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his +behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to +come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and +by threes. He's to make his requests by +particulars; wherein every one of us has a single +honour, in giving him our own voices with our own +tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how +you shall go by him. + +All +Content, content. + +Exeunt Citizens + +MENENIUS +O sir, you are not right: have you not known +The worthiest men have done't? + +CORIOLANUS +What must I say? +'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring +My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds! +I got them in my country's service, when +Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran +From the noise of our own drums.' + +MENENIUS +O me, the gods! +You must not speak of that: you must desire them +To think upon you. + +CORIOLANUS +Think upon me! hang 'em! +I would they would forget me, like the virtues +Which our divines lose by 'em. + +MENENIUS +You'll mar all: +I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, +In wholesome manner. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +Bid them wash their faces +And keep their teeth clean. + +Re-enter two of the Citizens + +So, here comes a brace. + +Re-enter a third Citizen + +You know the cause, air, of my standing here. + +Third Citizen +We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't. + +CORIOLANUS +Mine own desert. + +Second Citizen +Your own desert! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, but not mine own desire. + +Third Citizen +How not your own desire? + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the +poor with begging. + +Third Citizen +You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to +gain by you. + +CORIOLANUS +Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship? + +First Citizen +The price is to ask it kindly. + +CORIOLANUS +Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to +show you, which shall be yours in private. Your +good voice, sir; what say you? + +Second Citizen +You shall ha' it, worthy sir. + +CORIOLANUS +A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices +begged. I have your alms: adieu. + +Third Citizen +But this is something odd. + +Second Citizen +An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter. + +Exeunt the three Citizens + +Re-enter two other Citizens + +CORIOLANUS +Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your +voices that I may be consul, I have here the +customary gown. + +Fourth Citizen +You have deserved nobly of your country, and you +have not deserved nobly. + +CORIOLANUS +Your enigma? + +Fourth Citizen +You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have +been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved +the common people. + +CORIOLANUS +You should account me the more virtuous that I have +not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my +sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer +estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account +gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is +rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise +the insinuating nod and be off to them most +counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the +bewitchment of some popular man and give it +bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, +I may be consul. + +Fifth Citizen +We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give +you our voices heartily. + +Fourth Citizen +You have received many wounds for your country. + +CORIOLANUS +I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I +will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further. + +Both Citizens +The gods give you joy, sir, heartily! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Most sweet voices! +Better it is to die, better to starve, +Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. +Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here, +To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, +Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't: +What custom wills, in all things should we do't, +The dust on antique time would lie unswept, +And mountainous error be too highly heapt +For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so, +Let the high office and the honour go +To one that would do thus. I am half through; +The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. + +Re-enter three Citizens more + +Here come more voices. +Your voices: for your voices I have fought; +Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear +Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six +I have seen and heard of; for your voices have +Done many things, some less, some more your voices: +Indeed I would be consul. + +Sixth Citizen +He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest +man's voice. + +Seventh Citizen +Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy, +and make him good friend to the people! + +All Citizens +Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Worthy voices! + +Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS + +MENENIUS +You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes +Endue you with the people's voice: remains +That, in the official marks invested, you +Anon do meet the senate. + +CORIOLANUS +Is this done? + +SICINIUS +The custom of request you have discharged: +The people do admit you, and are summon'd +To meet anon, upon your approbation. + +CORIOLANUS +Where? at the senate-house? + +SICINIUS +There, Coriolanus. + +CORIOLANUS +May I change these garments? + +SICINIUS +You may, sir. + +CORIOLANUS +That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again, +Repair to the senate-house. + +MENENIUS +I'll keep you company. Will you along? + +BRUTUS +We stay here for the people. + +SICINIUS +Fare you well. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS + +He has it now, and by his looks methink +'Tis warm at 's heart. + +BRUTUS +With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds. +will you dismiss the people? + +Re-enter Citizens + +SICINIUS +How now, my masters! have you chose this man? + +First Citizen +He has our voices, sir. + +BRUTUS +We pray the gods he may deserve your loves. + +Second Citizen +Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice, +He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices. + +Third Citizen +Certainly +He flouted us downright. + +First Citizen +No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us. + +Second Citizen +Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says +He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us +His marks of merit, wounds received for's country. + +SICINIUS +Why, so he did, I am sure. + +Citizens +No, no; no man saw 'em. + +Third Citizen +He said he had wounds, which he could show +in private; +And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, +'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom, +But by your voices, will not so permit me; +Your voices therefore.' When we granted that, +Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you: +Your most sweet voices: now you have left +your voices, +I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery? + +SICINIUS +Why either were you ignorant to see't, +Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness +To yield your voices? + +BRUTUS +Could you not have told him +As you were lesson'd, when he had no power, +But was a petty servant to the state, +He was your enemy, ever spake against +Your liberties and the charters that you bear +I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving +A place of potency and sway o' the state, +If he should still malignantly remain +Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might +Be curses to yourselves? You should have said +That as his worthy deeds did claim no less +Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature +Would think upon you for your voices and +Translate his malice towards you into love, +Standing your friendly lord. + +SICINIUS +Thus to have said, +As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit +And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd +Either his gracious promise, which you might, +As cause had call'd you up, have held him to +Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature, +Which easily endures not article +Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage, +You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler +And pass'd him unelected. + +BRUTUS +Did you perceive +He did solicit you in free contempt +When he did need your loves, and do you think +That his contempt shall not be bruising to you, +When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies +No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry +Against the rectorship of judgment? + +SICINIUS +Have you +Ere now denied the asker? and now again +Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow +Your sued-for tongues? + +Third Citizen +He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet. + +Second Citizen +And will deny him: +I'll have five hundred voices of that sound. + +First Citizen +I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em. + +BRUTUS +Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends, +They have chose a consul that will from them take +Their liberties; make them of no more voice +Than dogs that are as often beat for barking +As therefore kept to do so. + +SICINIUS +Let them assemble, +And on a safer judgment all revoke +Your ignorant election; enforce his pride, +And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not +With what contempt he wore the humble weed, +How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves, +Thinking upon his services, took from you +The apprehension of his present portance, +Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion +After the inveterate hate he bears you. + +BRUTUS +Lay +A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured, +No impediment between, but that you must +Cast your election on him. + +SICINIUS +Say, you chose him +More after our commandment than as guided +By your own true affections, and that your minds, +Preoccupied with what you rather must do +Than what you should, made you against the grain +To voice him consul: lay the fault on us. + +BRUTUS +Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you. +How youngly he began to serve his country, +How long continued, and what stock he springs of, +The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came +That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son, +Who, after great Hostilius, here was king; +Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, +That our beat water brought by conduits hither; +And [Censorinus,] nobly named so, +Twice being [by the people chosen] censor, +Was his great ancestor. + +SICINIUS +One thus descended, +That hath beside well in his person wrought +To be set high in place, we did commend +To your remembrances: but you have found, +Scaling his present bearing with his past, +That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke +Your sudden approbation. + +BRUTUS +Say, you ne'er had done't-- +Harp on that still--but by our putting on; +And presently, when you have drawn your number, +Repair to the Capitol. + +All +We will so: almost all +Repent in their election. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +Let them go on; +This mutiny were better put in hazard, +Than stay, past doubt, for greater: +If, as his nature is, he fall in rage +With their refusal, both observe and answer +The vantage of his anger. + +SICINIUS +To the Capitol, come: +We will be there before the stream o' the people; +And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, +Which we have goaded onward. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators +CORIOLANUS +Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? + +LARTIUS +He had, my lord; and that it was which caused +Our swifter composition. + +CORIOLANUS +So then the Volsces stand but as at first, +Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road. +Upon's again. + +COMINIUS +They are worn, lord consul, so, +That we shall hardly in our ages see +Their banners wave again. + +CORIOLANUS +Saw you Aufidius? + +LARTIUS +On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse +Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely +Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +Spoke he of me? + +LARTIUS +He did, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +How? what? + +LARTIUS +How often he had met you, sword to sword; +That of all things upon the earth he hated +Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes +To hopeless restitution, so he might +Be call'd your vanquisher. + +CORIOLANUS +At Antium lives he? + +LARTIUS +At Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +I wish I had a cause to seek him there, +To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, +The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them; +For they do prank them in authority, +Against all noble sufferance. + +SICINIUS +Pass no further. + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! what is that? + +BRUTUS +It will be dangerous to go on: no further. + +CORIOLANUS +What makes this change? + +MENENIUS +The matter? + +COMINIUS +Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common? + +BRUTUS +Cominius, no. + +CORIOLANUS +Have I had children's voices? + +First Senator +Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place. + +BRUTUS +The people are incensed against him. + +SICINIUS +Stop, +Or all will fall in broil. + +CORIOLANUS +Are these your herd? +Must these have voices, that can yield them now +And straight disclaim their tongues? What are +your offices? +You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? +Have you not set them on? + +MENENIUS +Be calm, be calm. + +CORIOLANUS +It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, +To curb the will of the nobility: +Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule +Nor ever will be ruled. + +BRUTUS +Call't not a plot: +The people cry you mock'd them, and of late, +When corn was given them gratis, you repined; +Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them +Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. + +CORIOLANUS +Why, this was known before. + +BRUTUS +Not to them all. + +CORIOLANUS +Have you inform'd them sithence? + +BRUTUS +How! I inform them! + +CORIOLANUS +You are like to do such business. + +BRUTUS +Not unlike, +Each way, to better yours. + +CORIOLANUS +Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, +Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me +Your fellow tribune. + +SICINIUS +You show too much of that +For which the people stir: if you will pass +To where you are bound, you must inquire your way, +Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, +Or never be so noble as a consul, +Nor yoke with him for tribune. + +MENENIUS +Let's be calm. + +COMINIUS +The people are abused; set on. This paltering +Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus +Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely +I' the plain way of his merit. + +CORIOLANUS +Tell me of corn! +This was my speech, and I will speak't again-- + +MENENIUS +Not now, not now. + +First Senator +Not in this heat, sir, now. + +CORIOLANUS +Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, +I crave their pardons: +For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them +Regard me as I do not flatter, and +Therein behold themselves: I say again, +In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate +The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, +Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, +and scatter'd, +By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, +Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that +Which they have given to beggars. + +MENENIUS +Well, no more. + +First Senator +No more words, we beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +How! no more! +As for my country I have shed my blood, +Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs +Coin words till their decay against those measles, +Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought +The very way to catch them. + +BRUTUS +You speak o' the people, +As if you were a god to punish, not +A man of their infirmity. + +SICINIUS +'Twere well +We let the people know't. + +MENENIUS +What, what? his choler? + +CORIOLANUS +Choler! +Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, +By Jove, 'twould be my mind! + +SICINIUS +It is a mind +That shall remain a poison where it is, +Not poison any further. + +CORIOLANUS +Shall remain! +Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you +His absolute 'shall'? + +COMINIUS +'Twas from the canon. + +CORIOLANUS +'Shall'! +O good but most unwise patricians! why, +You grave but reckless senators, have you thus +Given Hydra here to choose an officer, +That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but +The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit +To say he'll turn your current in a ditch, +And make your channel his? If he have power +Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake +Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd, +Be not as common fools; if you are not, +Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, +If they be senators: and they are no less, +When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste +Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, +And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,' +His popular 'shall' against a graver bench +Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself! +It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches +To know, when two authorities are up, +Neither supreme, how soon confusion +May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take +The one by the other. + +COMINIUS +Well, on to the market-place. + +CORIOLANUS +Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth +The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used +Sometime in Greece,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, well, no more of that. + +CORIOLANUS +Though there the people had more absolute power, +I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed +The ruin of the state. + +BRUTUS +Why, shall the people give +One that speaks thus their voice? + +CORIOLANUS +I'll give my reasons, +More worthier than their voices. They know the corn +Was not our recompense, resting well assured +That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war, +Even when the navel of the state was touch'd, +They would not thread the gates. This kind of service +Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war +Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd +Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation +Which they have often made against the senate, +All cause unborn, could never be the motive +Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? +How shall this bisson multitude digest +The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express +What's like to be their words: 'we did request it; +We are the greater poll, and in true fear +They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase +The nature of our seats and make the rabble +Call our cares fears; which will in time +Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in +The crows to peck the eagles. + +MENENIUS +Come, enough. + +BRUTUS +Enough, with over-measure. + +CORIOLANUS +No, take more: +What may be sworn by, both divine and human, +Seal what I end withal! This double worship, +Where one part does disdain with cause, the other +Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom, +Cannot conclude but by the yea and no +Of general ignorance,--it must omit +Real necessities, and give way the while +To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd, +it follows, +Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,-- +You that will be less fearful than discreet, +That love the fundamental part of state +More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer +A noble life before a long, and wish +To jump a body with a dangerous physic +That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out +The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick +The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour +Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state +Of that integrity which should become't, +Not having the power to do the good it would, +For the in which doth control't. + +BRUTUS +Has said enough. + +SICINIUS +Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer +As traitors do. + +CORIOLANUS +Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! +What should the people do with these bald tribunes? +On whom depending, their obedience fails +To the greater bench: in a rebellion, +When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, +Then were they chosen: in a better hour, +Let what is meet be said it must be meet, +And throw their power i' the dust. + +BRUTUS +Manifest treason! + +SICINIUS +This a consul? no. + +BRUTUS +The aediles, ho! + +Enter an AEdile + +Let him be apprehended. + +SICINIUS +Go, call the people: + +Exit AEdile + +in whose name myself +Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, +A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee, +And follow to thine answer. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, old goat! +Senators, & C We'll surety him. + +COMINIUS +Aged sir, hands off. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones +Out of thy garments. + +SICINIUS +Help, ye citizens! + +Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the AEdiles + +MENENIUS +On both sides more respect. + +SICINIUS +Here's he that would take from you all your power. + +BRUTUS +Seize him, AEdiles! + +Citizens +Down with him! down with him! +Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons! + +They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying + +'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!' +'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!' +'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!' + +MENENIUS +What is about to be? I am out of breath; +Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes +To the people! Coriolanus, patience! +Speak, good Sicinius. + +SICINIUS +Hear me, people; peace! + +Citizens +Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak. + +SICINIUS +You are at point to lose your liberties: +Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, +Whom late you have named for consul. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! +This is the way to kindle, not to quench. + +First Senator +To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. + +SICINIUS +What is the city but the people? + +Citizens +True, +The people are the city. + +BRUTUS +By the consent of all, we were establish'd +The people's magistrates. + +Citizens +You so remain. + +MENENIUS +And so are like to do. + +COMINIUS +That is the way to lay the city flat; +To bring the roof to the foundation, +And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, +In heaps and piles of ruin. + +SICINIUS +This deserves death. + +BRUTUS +Or let us stand to our authority, +Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, +Upon the part o' the people, in whose power +We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy +Of present death. + +SICINIUS +Therefore lay hold of him; +Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence +Into destruction cast him. + +BRUTUS +AEdiles, seize him! + +Citizens +Yield, Marcius, yield! + +MENENIUS +Hear me one word; +Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. + +AEdile +Peace, peace! + +MENENIUS +[To BRUTUS] Be that you seem, truly your +country's friend, +And temperately proceed to what you would +Thus violently redress. + +BRUTUS +Sir, those cold ways, +That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous +Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him, +And bear him to the rock. + +CORIOLANUS +No, I'll die here. + +Drawing his sword + +There's some among you have beheld me fighting: +Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. + +MENENIUS +Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile. + +BRUTUS +Lay hands upon him. + +COMINIUS +Help Marcius, help, +You that be noble; help him, young and old! + +Citizens +Down with him, down with him! + +In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the People, are beat in + +MENENIUS +Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! +All will be naught else. + +Second Senator +Get you gone. + +COMINIUS +Stand fast; +We have as many friends as enemies. + +MENENIUS +Sham it be put to that? + +First Senator +The gods forbid! +I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; +Leave us to cure this cause. + +MENENIUS +For 'tis a sore upon us, +You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you. + +COMINIUS +Come, sir, along with us. + +CORIOLANUS +I would they were barbarians--as they are, +Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not, +Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol-- + +MENENIUS +Be gone; +Put not your worthy rage into your tongue; +One time will owe another. + +CORIOLANUS +On fair ground +I could beat forty of them. + +COMINIUS +I could myself +Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the +two tribunes: +But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; +And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands +Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, +Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend +Like interrupted waters and o'erbear +What they are used to bear. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, be gone: +I'll try whether my old wit be in request +With those that have but little: this must be patch'd +With cloth of any colour. + +COMINIUS +Nay, come away. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others + +A Patrician +This man has marr'd his fortune. + +MENENIUS +His nature is too noble for the world: +He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, +Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: +What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; +And, being angry, does forget that ever +He heard the name of death. + +A noise within + +Here's goodly work! + +Second Patrician +I would they were abed! + +MENENIUS +I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance! +Could he not speak 'em fair? + +Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble + +SICINIUS +Where is this viper +That would depopulate the city and +Be every man himself? + +MENENIUS +You worthy tribunes,-- + +SICINIUS +He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock +With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law, +And therefore law shall scorn him further trial +Than the severity of the public power +Which he so sets at nought. + +First Citizen +He shall well know +The noble tribunes are the people's mouths, +And we their hands. + +Citizens +He shall, sure on't. + +MENENIUS +Sir, sir,-- + +SICINIUS +Peace! + +MENENIUS +Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt +With modest warrant. + +SICINIUS +Sir, how comes't that you +Have holp to make this rescue? + +MENENIUS +Hear me speak: +As I do know the consul's worthiness, +So can I name his faults,-- + +SICINIUS +Consul! what consul? + +MENENIUS +The consul Coriolanus. + +BRUTUS +He consul! + +Citizens +No, no, no, no, no. + +MENENIUS +If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, +I may be heard, I would crave a word or two; +The which shall turn you to no further harm +Than so much loss of time. + +SICINIUS +Speak briefly then; +For we are peremptory to dispatch +This viperous traitor: to eject him hence +Were but one danger, and to keep him here +Our certain death: therefore it is decreed +He dies to-night. + +MENENIUS +Now the good gods forbid +That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude +Towards her deserved children is enroll'd +In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam +Should now eat up her own! + +SICINIUS +He's a disease that must be cut away. + +MENENIUS +O, he's a limb that has but a disease; +Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. +What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? +Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-- +Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, +By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country; +And what is left, to lose it by his country, +Were to us all, that do't and suffer it, +A brand to the end o' the world. + +SICINIUS +This is clean kam. + +BRUTUS +Merely awry: when he did love his country, +It honour'd him. + +MENENIUS +The service of the foot +Being once gangrened, is not then respected +For what before it was. + +BRUTUS +We'll hear no more. +Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence: +Lest his infection, being of catching nature, +Spread further. + +MENENIUS +One word more, one word. +This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find +The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late +Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process; +Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out, +And sack great Rome with Romans. + +BRUTUS +If it were so,-- + +SICINIUS +What do ye talk? +Have we not had a taste of his obedience? +Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come. + +MENENIUS +Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars +Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd +In bolted language; meal and bran together +He throws without distinction. Give me leave, +I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him +Where he shall answer, by a lawful form, +In peace, to his utmost peril. + +First Senator +Noble tribunes, +It is the humane way: the other course +Will prove too bloody, and the end of it +Unknown to the beginning. + +SICINIUS +Noble Menenius, +Be you then as the people's officer. +Masters, lay down your weapons. + +BRUTUS +Go not home. + +SICINIUS +Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there: +Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed +In our first way. + +MENENIUS +I'll bring him to you. + +To the Senators + +Let me desire your company: he must come, +Or what is worst will follow. + +First Senator +Pray you, let's to him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians +CORIOLANUS +Let them puff all about mine ears, present me +Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, +Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, +That the precipitation might down stretch +Below the beam of sight, yet will I still +Be thus to them. + +A Patrician +You do the nobler. + +CORIOLANUS +I muse my mother +Does not approve me further, who was wont +To call them woollen vassals, things created +To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads +In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, +When one but of my ordinance stood up +To speak of peace or war. + +Enter VOLUMNIA + +I talk of you: +Why did you wish me milder? would you have me +False to my nature? Rather say I play +The man I am. + +VOLUMNIA +O, sir, sir, sir, +I would have had you put your power well on, +Before you had worn it out. + +CORIOLANUS +Let go. + +VOLUMNIA +You might have been enough the man you are, +With striving less to be so; lesser had been +The thwartings of your dispositions, if +You had not show'd them how ye were disposed +Ere they lack'd power to cross you. + +CORIOLANUS +Let them hang. + +A Patrician +Ay, and burn too. + +Enter MENENIUS and Senators + +MENENIUS +Come, come, you have been too rough, something +too rough; +You must return and mend it. + +First Senator +There's no remedy; +Unless, by not so doing, our good city +Cleave in the midst, and perish. + +VOLUMNIA +Pray, be counsell'd: +I have a heart as little apt as yours, +But yet a brain that leads my use of anger +To better vantage. + +MENENIUS +Well said, noble woman? +Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that +The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic +For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, +Which I can scarcely bear. + +CORIOLANUS +What must I do? + +MENENIUS +Return to the tribunes. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, what then? what then? + +MENENIUS +Repent what you have spoke. + +CORIOLANUS +For them! I cannot do it to the gods; +Must I then do't to them? + +VOLUMNIA +You are too absolute; +Though therein you can never be too noble, +But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, +Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, +I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me, +In peace what each of them by the other lose, +That they combine not there. + +CORIOLANUS +Tush, tush! + +MENENIUS +A good demand. + +VOLUMNIA +If it be honour in your wars to seem +The same you are not, which, for your best ends, +You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse, +That it shall hold companionship in peace +With honour, as in war, since that to both +It stands in like request? + +CORIOLANUS +Why force you this? + +VOLUMNIA +Because that now it lies you on to speak +To the people; not by your own instruction, +Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you, +But with such words that are but rooted in +Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables +Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. +Now, this no more dishonours you at all +Than to take in a town with gentle words, +Which else would put you to your fortune and +The hazard of much blood. +I would dissemble with my nature where +My fortunes and my friends at stake required +I should do so in honour: I am in this, +Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; +And you will rather show our general louts +How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em, +For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard +Of what that want might ruin. + +MENENIUS +Noble lady! +Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, +Not what is dangerous present, but the loss +Of what is past. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, my son, +Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; +And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them-- +Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business +Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant +More learned than the ears--waving thy head, +Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart, +Now humble as the ripest mulberry +That will not hold the handling: or say to them, +Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils +Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, +Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, +In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame +Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far +As thou hast power and person. + +MENENIUS +This but done, +Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; +For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free +As words to little purpose. + +VOLUMNIA +Prithee now, +Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather +Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf +Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit +You make strong party, or defend yourself +By calmness or by absence: all's in anger. + +MENENIUS +Only fair speech. + +COMINIUS +I think 'twill serve, if he +Can thereto frame his spirit. + +VOLUMNIA +He must, and will +Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. + +CORIOLANUS +Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? +Must I with base tongue give my noble heart +A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't: +Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, +This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it +And throw't against the wind. To the market-place! +You have put me now to such a part which never +I shall discharge to the life. + +COMINIUS +Come, come, we'll prompt you. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said +My praises made thee first a soldier, so, +To have my praise for this, perform a part +Thou hast not done before. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, I must do't: +Away, my disposition, and possess me +Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, +Which quired with my drum, into a pipe +Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice +That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves +Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up +The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue +Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, +Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his +That hath received an alms! I will not do't, +Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth +And by my body's action teach my mind +A most inherent baseness. + +VOLUMNIA +At thy choice, then: +To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour +Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let +Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear +Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death +With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list +Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me, +But owe thy pride thyself. + +CORIOLANUS +Pray, be content: +Mother, I am going to the market-place; +Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, +Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved +Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going: +Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; +Or never trust to what my tongue can do +I' the way of flattery further. + +VOLUMNIA +Do your will. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself +To answer mildly; for they are prepared +With accusations, as I hear, more strong +Than are upon you yet. + +CORIOLANUS +The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go: +Let them accuse me by invention, I +Will answer in mine honour. + +MENENIUS +Ay, but mildly. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, mildly be it then. Mildly! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +BRUTUS +In this point charge him home, that he affects +Tyrannical power: if he evade us there, +Enforce him with his envy to the people, +And that the spoil got on the Antiates +Was ne'er distributed. + +Enter an AEdile + +What, will he come? + +AEdile +He's coming. + +BRUTUS +How accompanied? + +AEdile +With old Menenius, and those senators +That always favour'd him. + +SICINIUS +Have you a catalogue +Of all the voices that we have procured +Set down by the poll? + +AEdile +I have; 'tis ready. + +SICINIUS +Have you collected them by tribes? + +AEdile +I have. + +SICINIUS +Assemble presently the people hither; +And when they bear me say 'It shall be so +I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either +For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them +If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.' +Insisting on the old prerogative +And power i' the truth o' the cause. + +AEdile +I shall inform them. + +BRUTUS +And when such time they have begun to cry, +Let them not cease, but with a din confused +Enforce the present execution +Of what we chance to sentence. + +AEdile +Very well. + +SICINIUS +Make them be strong and ready for this hint, +When we shall hap to give 't them. + +BRUTUS +Go about it. + +Exit AEdile + +Put him to choler straight: he hath been used +Ever to conquer, and to have his worth +Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot +Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks +What's in his heart; and that is there which looks +With us to break his neck. + +SICINIUS +Well, here he comes. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with Senators and Patricians + +MENENIUS +Calmly, I do beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece +Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods +Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice +Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's! +Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, +And not our streets with war! + +First Senator +Amen, amen. + +MENENIUS +A noble wish. + +Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens + +SICINIUS +Draw near, ye people. + +AEdile +List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say! + +CORIOLANUS +First, hear me speak. + +Both Tribunes +Well, say. Peace, ho! + +CORIOLANUS +Shall I be charged no further than this present? +Must all determine here? + +SICINIUS +I do demand, +If you submit you to the people's voices, +Allow their officers and are content +To suffer lawful censure for such faults +As shall be proved upon you? + +CORIOLANUS +I am content. + +MENENIUS +Lo, citizens, he says he is content: +The warlike service he has done, consider; think +Upon the wounds his body bears, which show +Like graves i' the holy churchyard. + +CORIOLANUS +Scratches with briers, +Scars to move laughter only. + +MENENIUS +Consider further, +That when he speaks not like a citizen, +You find him like a soldier: do not take +His rougher accents for malicious sounds, +But, as I say, such as become a soldier, +Rather than envy you. + +COMINIUS +Well, well, no more. + +CORIOLANUS +What is the matter +That being pass'd for consul with full voice, +I am so dishonour'd that the very hour +You take it off again? + +SICINIUS +Answer to us. + +CORIOLANUS +Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so. + +SICINIUS +We charge you, that you have contrived to take +From Rome all season'd office and to wind +Yourself into a power tyrannical; +For which you are a traitor to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +How! traitor! + +MENENIUS +Nay, temperately; your promise. + +CORIOLANUS +The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people! +Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune! +Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, +In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in +Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say +'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free +As I do pray the gods. + +SICINIUS +Mark you this, people? + +Citizens +To the rock, to the rock with him! + +SICINIUS +Peace! +We need not put new matter to his charge: +What you have seen him do and heard him speak, +Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, +Opposing laws with strokes and here defying +Those whose great power must try him; even this, +So criminal and in such capital kind, +Deserves the extremest death. + +BRUTUS +But since he hath +Served well for Rome,-- + +CORIOLANUS +What do you prate of service? + +BRUTUS +I talk of that, that know it. + +CORIOLANUS +You? + +MENENIUS +Is this the promise that you made your mother? + +COMINIUS +Know, I pray you,-- + +CORIOLANUS +I know no further: +Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, +Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger +But with a grain a day, I would not buy +Their mercy at the price of one fair word; +Nor cheque my courage for what they can give, +To have't with saying 'Good morrow.' + +SICINIUS +For that he has, +As much as in him lies, from time to time +Envied against the people, seeking means +To pluck away their power, as now at last +Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence +Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers +That do distribute it; in the name o' the people +And in the power of us the tribunes, we, +Even from this instant, banish him our city, +In peril of precipitation +From off the rock Tarpeian never more +To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name, +I say it shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away: +He's banish'd, and it shall be so. + +COMINIUS +Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,-- + +SICINIUS +He's sentenced; no more hearing. + +COMINIUS +Let me speak: +I have been consul, and can show for Rome +Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love +My country's good with a respect more tender, +More holy and profound, than mine own life, +My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase, +And treasure of my loins; then if I would +Speak that,-- + +SICINIUS +We know your drift: speak what? + +BRUTUS +There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd, +As enemy to the people and his country: +It shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so. + +CORIOLANUS +You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate +As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize +As the dead carcasses of unburied men +That do corrupt my air, I banish you; +And here remain with your uncertainty! +Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! +Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, +Fan you into despair! Have the power still +To banish your defenders; till at length +Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels, +Making not reservation of yourselves, +Still your own foes, deliver you as most +Abated captives to some nation +That won you without blows! Despising, +For you, the city, thus I turn my back: +There is a world elsewhere. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians + +AEdile +The people's enemy is gone, is gone! + +Citizens +Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! + +Shouting, and throwing up their caps + +SICINIUS +Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, +As he hath followed you, with all despite; +Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard +Attend us through the city. + +Citizens +Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come. +The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the city. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome +CORIOLANUS +Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast +With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, +Where is your ancient courage? you were used +To say extremity was the trier of spirits; +That common chances common men could bear; +That when the sea was calm all boats alike +Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, +When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves +A noble cunning: you were used to load me +With precepts that would make invincible +The heart that conn'd them. + +VIRGILIA +O heavens! O heavens! + +CORIOLANUS +Nay! prithee, woman,-- + +VOLUMNIA +Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, +And occupations perish! + +CORIOLANUS +What, what, what! +I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. +Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, +If you had been the wife of Hercules, +Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved +Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, +Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: +I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, +Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, +And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, +I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld +Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women +'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, +As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well +My hazards still have been your solace: and +Believe't not lightly--though I go alone, +Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen +Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son +Will or exceed the common or be caught +With cautelous baits and practise. + +VOLUMNIA +My first son. +Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius +With thee awhile: determine on some course, +More than a wild exposture to each chance +That starts i' the way before thee. + +CORIOLANUS +O the gods! + +COMINIUS +I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee +Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us +And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth +A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send +O'er the vast world to seek a single man, +And lose advantage, which doth ever cool +I' the absence of the needer. + +CORIOLANUS +Fare ye well: +Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full +Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one +That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate. +Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and +My friends of noble touch, when I am forth, +Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. +While I remain above the ground, you shall +Hear from me still, and never of me aught +But what is like me formerly. + +MENENIUS +That's worthily +As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep. +If I could shake off but one seven years +From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, +I'ld with thee every foot. + +CORIOLANUS +Give me thy hand: Come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile +SICINIUS +Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further. +The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided +In his behalf. + +BRUTUS +Now we have shown our power, +Let us seem humbler after it is done +Than when it was a-doing. + +SICINIUS +Bid them home: +Say their great enemy is gone, and they +Stand in their ancient strength. + +BRUTUS +Dismiss them home. + +Exit AEdile + +Here comes his mother. + +SICINIUS +Let's not meet her. + +BRUTUS +Why? + +SICINIUS +They say she's mad. + +BRUTUS +They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way. + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS + +VOLUMNIA +O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods +Requite your love! + +MENENIUS +Peace, peace; be not so loud. + +VOLUMNIA +If that I could for weeping, you should hear,-- +Nay, and you shall hear some. + +To BRUTUS + +Will you be gone? + +VIRGILIA +[To SICINIUS] You shall stay too: I would I had the power +To say so to my husband. + +SICINIUS +Are you mankind? + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool. +Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship +To banish him that struck more blows for Rome +Than thou hast spoken words? + +SICINIUS +O blessed heavens! + +VOLUMNIA +More noble blows than ever thou wise words; +And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go: +Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son +Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, +His good sword in his hand. + +SICINIUS +What then? + +VIRGILIA +What then! +He'ld make an end of thy posterity. + +VOLUMNIA +Bastards and all. +Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! + +MENENIUS +Come, come, peace. + +SICINIUS +I would he had continued to his country +As he began, and not unknit himself +The noble knot he made. + +BRUTUS +I would he had. + +VOLUMNIA +'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble: +Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth +As I can of those mysteries which heaven +Will not have earth to know. + +BRUTUS +Pray, let us go. + +VOLUMNIA +Now, pray, sir, get you gone: +You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- +As far as doth the Capitol exceed +The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- +This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- +Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. + +BRUTUS +Well, well, we'll leave you. + +SICINIUS +Why stay we to be baited +With one that wants her wits? + +VOLUMNIA +Take my prayers with you. + +Exeunt Tribunes + +I would the gods had nothing else to do +But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em +But once a-day, it would unclog my heart +Of what lies heavy to't. + +MENENIUS +You have told them home; +And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me? + +VOLUMNIA +Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, +And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go: +Leave this faint puling and lament as I do, +In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium. + +Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting +Roman +I know you well, sir, and you know +me: your name, I think, is Adrian. + +Volsce +It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you. + +Roman +I am a Roman; and my services are, +as you are, against 'em: know you me yet? + +Volsce +Nicanor? no. + +Roman +The same, sir. + +Volsce +You had more beard when I last saw you; but your +favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the +news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state, +to find you out there: you have well saved me a +day's journey. + +Roman +There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the +people against the senators, patricians, and nobles. + +Volsce +Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not +so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and +hope to come upon them in the heat of their division. + +Roman +The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing +would make it flame again: for the nobles receive +so to heart the banishment of that worthy +Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take +all power from the people and to pluck from them +their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can +tell you, and is almost mature for the violent +breaking out. + +Volsce +Coriolanus banished! + +Roman +Banished, sir. + +Volsce +You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor. + +Roman +The day serves well for them now. I have heard it +said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is +when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble +Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his +great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request +of his country. + +Volsce +He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus +accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my +business, and I will merrily accompany you home. + +Roman +I shall, between this and supper, tell you most +strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of +their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you? + +Volsce +A most royal one; the centurions and their charges, +distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, +and to be on foot at an hour's warning. + +Roman +I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the +man, I think, that shall set them in present action. +So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company. + +Volsce +You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause +to be glad of yours. + +Roman +Well, let us go together. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidius's house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised and muffled +CORIOLANUS +A goodly city is this Antium. City, +'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir +Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars +Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not, +Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones +In puny battle slay me. + +Enter a Citizen + +Save you, sir. + +Citizen +And you. + +CORIOLANUS +Direct me, if it be your will, +Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium? + +Citizen +He is, and feasts the nobles of the state +At his house this night. + +CORIOLANUS +Which is his house, beseech you? + +Citizen +This, here before you. + +CORIOLANUS +Thank you, sir: farewell. + +Exit Citizen + +O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, +Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, +Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, +Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love +Unseparable, shall within this hour, +On a dissension of a doit, break out +To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, +Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, +To take the one the other, by some chance, +Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends +And interjoin their issues. So with me: +My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon +This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me, +He does fair justice; if he give me way, +I'll do his country service. + +Exit + +SCENE V. The same. A hall in Aufidius's house. + +Music within. Enter a Servingman +First Servingman +Wine, wine, wine! What service +is here! I think our fellows are asleep. + +Exit + +Enter a second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Where's Cotus? my master calls +for him. Cotus! + +Exit + +Enter CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I +Appear not like a guest. + +Re-enter the first Servingman + +First Servingman +What would you have, friend? whence are you? +Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +I have deserved no better entertainment, +In being Coriolanus. + +Re-enter second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his +head; that he gives entrance to such companions? +Pray, get you out. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +Second Servingman +Away! get you away. + +CORIOLANUS +Now thou'rt troublesome. + +Second Servingman +Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. + +Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him + +Third Servingman +What fellow's this? + +First Servingman +A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him +out of the house: prithee, call my master to him. + +Retires + +Third Servingman +What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid +the house. + +CORIOLANUS +Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth. + +Third Servingman +What are you? + +CORIOLANUS +A gentleman. + +Third Servingman +A marvellous poor one. + +CORIOLANUS +True, so I am. + +Third Servingman +Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other +station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come. + +CORIOLANUS +Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits. + +Pushes him away + +Third Servingman +What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a +strange guest he has here. + +Second Servingman +And I shall. + +Exit + +Third Servingman +Where dwellest thou? + +CORIOLANUS +Under the canopy. + +Third Servingman +Under the canopy! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay. + +Third Servingman +Where's that? + +CORIOLANUS +I' the city of kites and crows. + +Third Servingman +I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! +Then thou dwellest with daws too? + +CORIOLANUS +No, I serve not thy master. + +Third Servingman +How, sir! do you meddle with my master? + +CORIOLANUS +Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy +mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy +trencher, hence! + +Beats him away. Exit third Servingman + +Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman + +AUFIDIUS +Where is this fellow? + +Second Servingman +Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for +disturbing the lords within. + +Retires + +AUFIDIUS +Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? +Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +If, Tullus, + +Unmuffling + +Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not +Think me for the man I am, necessity +Commands me name myself. + +AUFIDIUS +What is thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, +And harsh in sound to thine. + +AUFIDIUS +Say, what's thy name? +Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face +Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn. +Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st +thou me yet? + +AUFIDIUS +I know thee not: thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done +To thee particularly and to all the Volsces +Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may +My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, +The extreme dangers and the drops of blood +Shed for my thankless country are requited +But with that surname; a good memory, +And witness of the malice and displeasure +Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; +The cruelty and envy of the people, +Permitted by our dastard nobles, who +Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; +And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be +Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity +Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope-- +Mistake me not--to save my life, for if +I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world +I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, +To be full quit of those my banishers, +Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast +A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge +Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims +Of shame seen through thy country, speed +thee straight, +And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it +That my revengeful services may prove +As benefits to thee, for I will fight +Against my canker'd country with the spleen +Of all the under fiends. But if so be +Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes +Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am +Longer to live most weary, and present +My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; +Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, +Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate, +Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, +And cannot live but to thy shame, unless +It be to do thee service. + +AUFIDIUS +O Marcius, Marcius! +Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart +A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter +Should from yond cloud speak divine things, +And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more +Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine +Mine arms about that body, where against +My grained ash an hundred times hath broke +And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip +The anvil of my sword, and do contest +As hotly and as nobly with thy love +As ever in ambitious strength I did +Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, +I loved the maid I married; never man +Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, +Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart +Than when I first my wedded mistress saw +Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, +We have a power on foot; and I had purpose +Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, +Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out +Twelve several times, and I have nightly since +Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me; +We have been down together in my sleep, +Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, +And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, +Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that +Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all +From twelve to seventy, and pouring war +Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, +Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in, +And take our friendly senators by the hands; +Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, +Who am prepared against your territories, +Though not for Rome itself. + +CORIOLANUS +You bless me, gods! + +AUFIDIUS +Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have +The leading of thine own revenges, take +The one half of my commission; and set down-- +As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st +Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways; +Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, +Or rudely visit them in parts remote, +To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: +Let me commend thee first to those that shall +Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! +And more a friend than e'er an enemy; +Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome! + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two Servingmen come forward + +First Servingman +Here's a strange alteration! + +Second Servingman +By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with +a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a +false report of him. + +First Servingman +What an arm he has! he turned me about with his +finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top. + +Second Servingman +Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in +him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I +cannot tell how to term it. + +First Servingman +He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, +but I thought there was more in him than I could think. + +Second Servingman +So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest +man i' the world. + +First Servingman +I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on. + +Second Servingman +Who, my master? + +First Servingman +Nay, it's no matter for that. + +Second Servingman +Worth six on him. + +First Servingman +Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the +greater soldier. + +Second Servingman +Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: +for the defence of a town, our general is excellent. + +First Servingman +Ay, and for an assault too. + +Re-enter third Servingman + +Third Servingman +O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals! + +First Servingman Second Servingman +What, what, what? let's partake. + +Third Servingman +I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as +lieve be a condemned man. + +First Servingman Second Servingman +Wherefore? wherefore? + +Third Servingman +Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, +Caius Marcius. + +First Servingman +Why do you say 'thwack our general '? + +Third Servingman +I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always +good enough for him. + +Second Servingman +Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too +hard for him; I have heard him say so himself. + +First Servingman +He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth +on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched +him like a carbon ado. + +Second Servingman +An he had been cannibally given, he might have +broiled and eaten him too. + +First Servingman +But, more of thy news? + +Third Servingman +Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son +and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no +question asked him by any of the senators, but they +stand bald before him: our general himself makes a +mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and +turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But +the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i' +the middle and but one half of what he was +yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty +and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, +and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he +will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled. + +Second Servingman +And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. + +Third Servingman +Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as +many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it +were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as +we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude. + +First Servingman +Directitude! what's that? + +Third Servingman +But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, +and the man in blood, they will out of their +burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with +him. + +First Servingman +But when goes this forward? + +Third Servingman +To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the +drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a +parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they +wipe their lips. + +Second Servingman +Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. +This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase +tailors, and breed ballad-makers. + +First Servingman +Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as +day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and +full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; +mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more +bastard children than war's a destroyer of men. + +Second Servingman +'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to +be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a +great maker of cuckolds. + +First Servingman +Ay, and it makes men hate one another. + +Third Servingman +Reason; because they then less need one another. +The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap +as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising. + +All +In, in, in, in! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. A public place. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +SICINIUS +We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; +His remedies are tame i' the present peace +And quietness of the people, which before +Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends +Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, +Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold +Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see +Our tradesmen with in their shops and going +About their functions friendly. + +BRUTUS +We stood to't in good time. + +Enter MENENIUS + +Is this Menenius? + +SICINIUS +'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. + +Both Tribunes +Hail sir! + +MENENIUS +Hail to you both! + +SICINIUS +Your Coriolanus +Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: +The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, +Were he more angry at it. + +MENENIUS +All's well; and might have been much better, if +He could have temporized. + +SICINIUS +Where is he, hear you? + +MENENIUS +Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife +Hear nothing from him. + +Enter three or four Citizens + +Citizens +The gods preserve you both! + +SICINIUS +God-den, our neighbours. + +BRUTUS +God-den to you all, god-den to you all. + +First Citizen +Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, +Are bound to pray for you both. + +SICINIUS +Live, and thrive! + +BRUTUS +Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus +Had loved you as we did. + +Citizens +Now the gods keep you! + +Both Tribunes +Farewell, farewell. + +Exeunt Citizens + +SICINIUS +This is a happier and more comely time +Than when these fellows ran about the streets, +Crying confusion. + +BRUTUS +Caius Marcius was +A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, +O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, +Self-loving,-- + +SICINIUS +And affecting one sole throne, +Without assistance. + +MENENIUS +I think not so. + +SICINIUS +We should by this, to all our lamentation, +If he had gone forth consul, found it so. + +BRUTUS +The gods have well prevented it, and Rome +Sits safe and still without him. + +Enter an AEdile + +AEdile +Worthy tribunes, +There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, +Reports, the Volsces with two several powers +Are enter'd in the Roman territories, +And with the deepest malice of the war +Destroy what lies before 'em. + +MENENIUS +'Tis Aufidius, +Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, +Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; +Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, +And durst not once peep out. + +SICINIUS +Come, what talk you +Of Marcius? + +BRUTUS +Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be +The Volsces dare break with us. + +MENENIUS +Cannot be! +We have record that very well it can, +And three examples of the like have been +Within my age. But reason with the fellow, +Before you punish him, where he heard this, +Lest you shall chance to whip your information +And beat the messenger who bids beware +Of what is to be dreaded. + +SICINIUS +Tell not me: +I know this cannot be. + +BRUTUS +Not possible. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The nobles in great earnestness are going +All to the senate-house: some news is come +That turns their countenances. + +SICINIUS +'Tis this slave;-- +Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising; +Nothing but his report. + +Messenger +Yes, worthy sir, +The slave's report is seconded; and more, +More fearful, is deliver'd. + +SICINIUS +What more fearful? + +Messenger +It is spoke freely out of many mouths-- +How probable I do not know--that Marcius, +Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, +And vows revenge as spacious as between +The young'st and oldest thing. + +SICINIUS +This is most likely! + +BRUTUS +Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish +Good Marcius home again. + +SICINIUS +The very trick on't. + +MENENIUS +This is unlikely: +He and Aufidius can no more atone +Than violentest contrariety. + +Enter a second Messenger + +Second Messenger +You are sent for to the senate: +A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius +Associated with Aufidius, rages +Upon our territories; and have already +O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took +What lay before them. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +O, you have made good work! + +MENENIUS +What news? what news? + +COMINIUS +You have holp to ravish your own daughters and +To melt the city leads upon your pates, +To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,-- + +MENENIUS +What's the news? what's the news? + +COMINIUS +Your temples burned in their cement, and +Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined +Into an auger's bore. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, your news? +You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?-- +If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,-- + +COMINIUS +If! +He is their god: he leads them like a thing +Made by some other deity than nature, +That shapes man better; and they follow him, +Against us brats, with no less confidence +Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, +Or butchers killing flies. + +MENENIUS +You have made good work, +You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much +on the voice of occupation and +The breath of garlic-eaters! + +COMINIUS +He will shake +Your Rome about your ears. + +MENENIUS +As Hercules +Did shake down mellow fruit. +You have made fair work! + +BRUTUS +But is this true, sir? + +COMINIUS +Ay; and you'll look pale +Before you find it other. All the regions +Do smilingly revolt; and who resist +Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, +And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him? +Your enemies and his find something in him. + +MENENIUS +We are all undone, unless +The noble man have mercy. + +COMINIUS +Who shall ask it? +The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people +Deserve such pity of him as the wolf +Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they +Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even +As those should do that had deserved his hate, +And therein show'd like enemies. + +MENENIUS +'Tis true: +If he were putting to my house the brand +That should consume it, I have not the face +To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands, +You and your crafts! you have crafted fair! + +COMINIUS +You have brought +A trembling upon Rome, such as was never +So incapable of help. + +Both Tribunes +Say not we brought it. + +MENENIUS +How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts +And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, +Who did hoot him out o' the city. + +COMINIUS +But I fear +They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, +The second name of men, obeys his points +As if he were his officer: desperation +Is all the policy, strength and defence, +That Rome can make against them. + +Enter a troop of Citizens + +MENENIUS +Here come the clusters. +And is Aufidius with him? You are they +That made the air unwholesome, when you cast +Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at +Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming; +And not a hair upon a soldier's head +Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs +As you threw caps up will he tumble down, +And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter; +if he could burn us all into one coal, +We have deserved it. + +Citizens +Faith, we hear fearful news. + +First Citizen +For mine own part, +When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity. + +Second Citizen +And so did I. + +Third Citizen +And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very +many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and +though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet +it was against our will. + +COMINIUS +Ye re goodly things, you voices! + +MENENIUS +You have made +Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol? + +COMINIUS +O, ay, what else? + +Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS + +SICINIUS +Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd: +These are a side that would be glad to have +This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, +And show no sign of fear. + +First Citizen +The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. +I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished +him. + +Second Citizen +So did we all. But, come, let's home. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +I do not like this news. + +SICINIUS +Nor I. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth +Would buy this for a lie! + +SICINIUS +Pray, let us go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. A camp, at a small distance from Rome. + +Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant +AUFIDIUS +Do they still fly to the Roman? + +Lieutenant +I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but +Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, +Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; +And you are darken'd in this action, sir, +Even by your own. + +AUFIDIUS +I cannot help it now, +Unless, by using means, I lame the foot +Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, +Even to my person, than I thought he would +When first I did embrace him: yet his nature +In that's no changeling; and I must excuse +What cannot be amended. + +Lieutenant +Yet I wish, sir,-- +I mean for your particular,--you had not +Join'd in commission with him; but either +Had borne the action of yourself, or else +To him had left it solely. + +AUFIDIUS +I understand thee well; and be thou sure, +when he shall come to his account, he knows not +What I can urge against him. Although it seems, +And so he thinks, and is no less apparent +To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly. +And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, +Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon +As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone +That which shall break his neck or hazard mine, +Whene'er we come to our account. + +Lieutenant +Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? + +AUFIDIUS +All places yield to him ere he sits down; +And the nobility of Rome are his: +The senators and patricians love him too: +The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people +Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty +To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome +As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it +By sovereignty of nature. First he was +A noble servant to them; but he could not +Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, +Which out of daily fortune ever taints +The happy man; whether defect of judgment, +To fail in the disposing of those chances +Which he was lord of; or whether nature, +Not to be other than one thing, not moving +From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace +Even with the same austerity and garb +As he controll'd the war; but one of these-- +As he hath spices of them all, not all, +For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd, +So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit, +To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues +Lie in the interpretation of the time: +And power, unto itself most commendable, +Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair +To extol what it hath done. +One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; +Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail. +Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, +Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others +MENENIUS +No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said +Which was sometime his general; who loved him +In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: +But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; +A mile before his tent fall down, and knee +The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd +To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. + +COMINIUS +He would not seem to know me. + +MENENIUS +Do you hear? + +COMINIUS +Yet one time he did call me by my name: +I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops +That we have bled together. Coriolanus +He would not answer to: forbad all names; +He was a kind of nothing, titleless, +Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire +Of burning Rome. + +MENENIUS +Why, so: you have made good work! +A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, +To make coals cheap,--a noble memory! + +COMINIUS +I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon +When it was less expected: he replied, +It was a bare petition of a state +To one whom they had punish'd. + +MENENIUS +Very well: +Could he say less? + +COMINIUS +I offer'd to awaken his regard +For's private friends: his answer to me was, +He could not stay to pick them in a pile +Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, +For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, +And still to nose the offence. + +MENENIUS +For one poor grain or two! +I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, +And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: +You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt +Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. + +SICINIUS +Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid +In this so never-needed help, yet do not +Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you +Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, +More than the instant army we can make, +Might stop our countryman. + +MENENIUS +No, I'll not meddle. + +SICINIUS +Pray you, go to him. + +MENENIUS +What should I do? + +BRUTUS +Only make trial what your love can do +For Rome, towards Marcius. + +MENENIUS +Well, and say that Marcius +Return me, as Cominius is return'd, +Unheard; what then? +But as a discontented friend, grief-shot +With his unkindness? say't be so? + +SICINIUS +Yet your good will +must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure +As you intended well. + +MENENIUS +I'll undertake 't: +I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip +And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. +He was not taken well; he had not dined: +The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then +We pout upon the morning, are unapt +To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd +These and these conveyances of our blood +With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls +Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him +Till he be dieted to my request, +And then I'll set upon him. + +BRUTUS +You know the very road into his kindness, +And cannot lose your way. + +MENENIUS +Good faith, I'll prove him, +Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge +Of my success. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +He'll never hear him. + +SICINIUS +Not? + +COMINIUS +I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye +Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury +The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; +'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me +Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, +He sent in writing after me; what he would not, +Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: +So that all hope is vain. +Unless his noble mother, and his wife; +Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him +For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, +And with our fair entreaties haste them on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome. +Two Sentinels on guard. + +Enter to them, MENENIUS + +First Senator +Stay: whence are you? + +Second Senator +Stand, and go back. + +MENENIUS +You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave, +I am an officer of state, and come +To speak with Coriolanus. + +First Senator +From whence? + +MENENIUS +From Rome. + +First Senator +You may not pass, you must return: our general +Will no more hear from thence. + +Second Senator +You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before +You'll speak with Coriolanus. + +MENENIUS +Good my friends, +If you have heard your general talk of Rome, +And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks, +My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius. + +First Senator +Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name +Is not here passable. + +MENENIUS +I tell thee, fellow, +The general is my lover: I have been +The book of his good acts, whence men have read +His name unparallel'd, haply amplified; +For I have ever verified my friends, +Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity +Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes, +Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground, +I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise +Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow, +I must have leave to pass. + +First Senator +Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his +behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you +should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous +to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, +always factionary on the party of your general. + +Second Senator +Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you +have, I am one that, telling true under him, must +say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not +speak with him till after dinner. + +First Senator +You are a Roman, are you? + +MENENIUS +I am, as thy general is. + +First Senator +Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, +when you have pushed out your gates the very +defender of them, and, in a violent popular +ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to +front his revenges with the easy groans of old +women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with +the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as +you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the +intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with +such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; +therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your +execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn +you out of reprieve and pardon. + +MENENIUS +Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would +use me with estimation. + +Second Senator +Come, my captain knows you not. + +MENENIUS +I mean, thy general. + +First Senator +My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest +I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's +the utmost of your having: back. + +MENENIUS +Nay, but, fellow, fellow,-- + +Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +CORIOLANUS +What's the matter? + +MENENIUS +Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you: +You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall +perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from +my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment +with him, if thou standest not i' the state of +hanging, or of some death more long in +spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now +presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. + +To CORIOLANUS + +The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy +particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than +thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! +thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's +water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to +thee; but being assured none but myself could move +thee, I have been blown out of your gates with +sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy +petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy +wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet +here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my +access to thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +MENENIUS +How! away! + +CORIOLANUS +Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs +Are servanted to others: though I owe +My revenge properly, my remission lies +In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, +Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather +Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone. +Mine ears against your suits are stronger than +Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, +Take this along; I writ it for thy sake + +Gives a letter + +And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius, +I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, +Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st! + +AUFIDIUS +You keep a constant temper. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +First Senator +Now, sir, is your name Menenius? + +Second Senator +'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the +way home again. + +First Senator +Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your +greatness back? + +Second Senator +What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? + +MENENIUS +I neither care for the world nor your general: for +such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, +ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by +himself fears it not from another: let your general +do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and +your misery increase with your age! I say to you, +as I was said to, Away! + +Exit + +First Senator +A noble fellow, I warrant him. + +Second Senator +The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the +oak not to be wind-shaken. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others +CORIOLANUS +We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow +Set down our host. My partner in this action, +You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly +I have borne this business. + +AUFIDIUS +Only their ends +You have respected; stopp'd your ears against +The general suit of Rome; never admitted +A private whisper, no, not with such friends +That thought them sure of you. + +CORIOLANUS +This last old man, +Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, +Loved me above the measure of a father; +Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge +Was to send him; for whose old love I have, +Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd +The first conditions, which they did refuse +And cannot now accept; to grace him only +That thought he could do more, a very little +I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, +Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter +Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? + +Shout within + +Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow +In the same time 'tis made? I will not. + +Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants + +My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould +Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand +The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! +All bond and privilege of nature, break! +Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. +What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, +Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not +Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; +As if Olympus to a molehill should +In supplication nod: and my young boy +Hath an aspect of intercession, which +Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces +Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never +Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, +As if a man were author of himself +And knew no other kin. + +VIRGILIA +My lord and husband! + +CORIOLANUS +These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. + +VIRGILIA +The sorrow that delivers us thus changed +Makes you think so. + +CORIOLANUS +Like a dull actor now, +I have forgot my part, and I am out, +Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, +Forgive my tyranny; but do not say +For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss +Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! +Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss +I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip +Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, +And the most noble mother of the world +Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; + +Kneels + +Of thy deep duty more impression show +Than that of common sons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, stand up blest! +Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, +I kneel before thee; and unproperly +Show duty, as mistaken all this while +Between the child and parent. + +Kneels + +CORIOLANUS +What is this? +Your knees to me? to your corrected son? +Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach +Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds +Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; +Murdering impossibility, to make +What cannot be, slight work. + +VOLUMNIA +Thou art my warrior; +I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? + +CORIOLANUS +The noble sister of Publicola, +The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle +That's curdied by the frost from purest snow +And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! + +VOLUMNIA +This is a poor epitome of yours, +Which by the interpretation of full time +May show like all yourself. + +CORIOLANUS +The god of soldiers, +With the consent of supreme Jove, inform +Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove +To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars +Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, +And saving those that eye thee! + +VOLUMNIA +Your knee, sirrah. + +CORIOLANUS +That's my brave boy! + +VOLUMNIA +Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, +Are suitors to you. + +CORIOLANUS +I beseech you, peace: +Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before: +The thing I have forsworn to grant may never +Be held by you denials. Do not bid me +Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate +Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not +Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not +To ally my rages and revenges with +Your colder reasons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, no more, no more! +You have said you will not grant us any thing; +For we have nothing else to ask, but that +Which you deny already: yet we will ask; +That, if you fail in our request, the blame +May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. + +CORIOLANUS +Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll +Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? + +VOLUMNIA +Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment +And state of bodies would bewray what life +We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself +How more unfortunate than all living women +Are we come hither: since that thy sight, +which should +Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance +with comforts, +Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow; +Making the mother, wife and child to see +The son, the husband and the father tearing +His country's bowels out. And to poor we +Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us +Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort +That all but we enjoy; for how can we, +Alas, how can we for our country pray. +Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory, +Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose +The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person, +Our comfort in the country. We must find +An evident calamity, though we had +Our wish, which side should win: for either thou +Must, as a foreign recreant, be led +With manacles thorough our streets, or else +triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, +And bear the palm for having bravely shed +Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, +I purpose not to wait on fortune till +These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee +Rather to show a noble grace to both parts +Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner +March to assault thy country than to tread-- +Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb, +That brought thee to this world. + +VIRGILIA +Ay, and mine, +That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name +Living to time. + +Young MARCIUS +A' shall not tread on me; +I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. + +CORIOLANUS +Not of a woman's tenderness to be, +Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. +I have sat too long. + +Rising + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, go not from us thus. +If it were so that our request did tend +To save the Romans, thereby to destroy +The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, +As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit +Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces +May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, +'This we received;' and each in either side +Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest +For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, +The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, +That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit +Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name, +Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; +Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, +But with his last attempt he wiped it out; +Destroy'd his country, and his name remains +To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: +Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, +To imitate the graces of the gods; +To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, +And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt +That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? +Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man +Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: +He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy: +Perhaps thy childishness will move him more +Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world +More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate +Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life +Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, +When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, +Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, +Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, +And spurn me back: but if it be not so, +Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee, +That thou restrain'st from me the duty which +To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: +Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees. +To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride +Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end; +This is the last: so we will home to Rome, +And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's: +This boy, that cannot tell what he would have +But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship, +Does reason our petition with more strength +Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go: +This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; +His wife is in Corioli and his child +Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch: +I am hush'd until our city be a-fire, +And then I'll speak a little. + +He holds her by the hand, silent + +CORIOLANUS +O mother, mother! +What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, +The gods look down, and this unnatural scene +They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! +You have won a happy victory to Rome; +But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it, +Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, +If not most mortal to him. But, let it come. +Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, +I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, +Were you in my stead, would you have heard +A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? + +AUFIDIUS +I was moved withal. + +CORIOLANUS +I dare be sworn you were: +And, sir, it is no little thing to make +Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, +What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, +I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, +Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife! + +AUFIDIUS +[Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and +thy honour +At difference in thee: out of that I'll work +Myself a former fortune. + +The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, by and by; + +To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, & c + +But we will drink together; and you shall bear +A better witness back than words, which we, +On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. +Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve +To have a temple built you: all the swords +In Italy, and her confederate arms, +Could not have made this peace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS +MENENIUS +See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond +corner-stone? + +SICINIUS +Why, what of that? + +MENENIUS +If it be possible for you to displace it with your +little finger, there is some hope the ladies of +Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. +But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are +sentenced and stay upon execution. + +SICINIUS +Is't possible that so short a time can alter the +condition of a man! + +MENENIUS +There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; +yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown +from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a +creeping thing. + +SICINIUS +He loved his mother dearly. + +MENENIUS +So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother +now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness +of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he +moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before +his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with +his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a +battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for +Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with +his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity +and a heaven to throne in. + +SICINIUS +Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. + +MENENIUS +I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his +mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy +in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that +shall our poor city find: and all this is long of +you. + +SICINIUS +The gods be good unto us! + +MENENIUS +No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto +us. When we banished him, we respected not them; +and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house: +The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune +And hale him up and down, all swearing, if +The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, +They'll give him death by inches. + +Enter a second Messenger + +SICINIUS +What's the news? + +Second Messenger +Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd, +The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone: +A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, +No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins. + +SICINIUS +Friend, +Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? + +Second Messenger +As certain as I know the sun is fire: +Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? +Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, +As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! + +Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together + +The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes, +Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans, +Make the sun dance. Hark you! + +A shout within + +MENENIUS +This is good news: +I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia +Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, +A city full; of tribunes, such as you, +A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day: +This morning for ten thousand of your throats +I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! + +Music still, with shouts + +SICINIUS +First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, +Accept my thankfulness. + +Second Messenger +Sir, we have all +Great cause to give great thanks. + +SICINIUS +They are near the city? + +Second Messenger +Almost at point to enter. + +SICINIUS +We will meet them, +And help the joy. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, & c. passing over the stage, followed by Patricians and others +First Senator +Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! +Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, +And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: +Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, +Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; +Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!' + +All +Welcome, ladies, Welcome! + +A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants +AUFIDIUS +Go tell the lords o' the city I am here: +Deliver them this paper: having read it, +Bid them repair to the market place; where I, +Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, +Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse +The city ports by this hath enter'd and +Intends to appear before the people, hoping +To purge herself with words: dispatch. + +Exeunt Attendants + +Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction + +Most welcome! + +First Conspirator +How is it with our general? + +AUFIDIUS +Even so +As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, +And with his charity slain. + +Second Conspirator +Most noble sir, +If you do hold the same intent wherein +You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you +Of your great danger. + +AUFIDIUS +Sir, I cannot tell: +We must proceed as we do find the people. + +Third Conspirator +The people will remain uncertain whilst +'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either +Makes the survivor heir of all. + +AUFIDIUS +I know it; +And my pretext to strike at him admits +A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd +Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd, +He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, +Seducing so my friends; and, to this end, +He bow'd his nature, never known before +But to be rough, unswayable and free. + +Third Conspirator +Sir, his stoutness +When he did stand for consul, which he lost +By lack of stooping,-- + +AUFIDIUS +That I would have spoke of: +Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; +Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; +Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way +In all his own desires; nay, let him choose +Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, +My best and freshest men; served his designments +In mine own person; holp to reap the fame +Which he did end all his; and took some pride +To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, +I seem'd his follower, not partner, and +He waged me with his countenance, as if +I had been mercenary. + +First Conspirator +So he did, my lord: +The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last, +When he had carried Rome and that we look'd +For no less spoil than glory,-- + +AUFIDIUS +There was it: +For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. +At a few drops of women's rheum, which are +As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour +Of our great action: therefore shall he die, +And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! + +Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People + +First Conspirator +Your native town you enter'd like a post, +And had no welcomes home: but he returns, +Splitting the air with noise. + +Second Conspirator +And patient fools, +Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear +With giving him glory. + +Third Conspirator +Therefore, at your vantage, +Ere he express himself, or move the people +With what he would say, let him feel your sword, +Which we will second. When he lies along, +After your way his tale pronounced shall bury +His reasons with his body. + +AUFIDIUS +Say no more: +Here come the lords. + +Enter the Lords of the city + +All The Lords +You are most welcome home. + +AUFIDIUS +I have not deserved it. +But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused +What I have written to you? + +Lords +We have. + +First Lord +And grieve to hear't. +What faults he made before the last, I think +Might have found easy fines: but there to end +Where he was to begin and give away +The benefit of our levies, answering us +With our own charge, making a treaty where +There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse. + +AUFIDIUS +He approaches: you shall hear him. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him + +CORIOLANUS +Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier, +No more infected with my country's love +Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting +Under your great command. You are to know +That prosperously I have attempted and +With bloody passage led your wars even to +The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home +Do more than counterpoise a full third part +The charges of the action. We have made peace +With no less honour to the Antiates +Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, +Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, +Together with the seal o' the senate, what +We have compounded on. + +AUFIDIUS +Read it not, noble lords; +But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree +He hath abused your powers. + +CORIOLANUS +Traitor! how now! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, traitor, Marcius! + +CORIOLANUS +Marcius! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think +I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name +Coriolanus in Corioli? +You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously +He has betray'd your business, and given up, +For certain drops of salt, your city Rome, +I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother; +Breaking his oath and resolution like +A twist of rotten silk, never admitting +Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears +He whined and roar'd away your victory, +That pages blush'd at him and men of heart +Look'd wondering each at other. + +CORIOLANUS +Hear'st thou, Mars? + +AUFIDIUS +Name not the god, thou boy of tears! + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! + +AUFIDIUS +No more. + +CORIOLANUS +Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart +Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave! +Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever +I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, +Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-- +Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that +Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join +To thrust the lie unto him. + +First Lord +Peace, both, and hear me speak. + +CORIOLANUS +Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, +Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound! +If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, +That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I +Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: +Alone I did it. Boy! + +AUFIDIUS +Why, noble lords, +Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, +Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, +'Fore your own eyes and ears? + +All Conspirators +Let him die for't. + +All The People +'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd +my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin +Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' + +Second Lord +Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! +The man is noble and his fame folds-in +This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us +Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, +And trouble not the peace. + +CORIOLANUS +O that I had him, +With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, +To use my lawful sword! + +AUFIDIUS +Insolent villain! + +All Conspirators +Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! + +The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body + +Lords +Hold, hold, hold, hold! + +AUFIDIUS +My noble masters, hear me speak. + +First Lord +O Tullus,-- + +Second Lord +Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. + +Third Lord +Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; +Put up your swords. + +AUFIDIUS +My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, +Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger +Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice +That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours +To call me to your senate, I'll deliver +Myself your loyal servant, or endure +Your heaviest censure. + +First Lord +Bear from hence his body; +And mourn you for him: let him be regarded +As the most noble corse that ever herald +Did follow to his urn. + +Second Lord +His own impatience +Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. +Let's make the best of it. + +AUFIDIUS +My rage is gone; +And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. +Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. +Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: +Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he +Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, +Which to this hour bewail the injury, +Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. + +Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded +The Life and Death of Julies Caesar +Shakespeare homepage | Julius Caeser | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners +FLAVIUS +Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: +Is this a holiday? what! know you not, +Being mechanical, you ought not walk +Upon a labouring day without the sign +Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? + +First Commoner +Why, sir, a carpenter. + +MARULLUS +Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? +What dost thou with thy best apparel on? +You, sir, what trade are you? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, +as you would say, a cobbler. + +MARULLUS +But what trade art thou? answer me directly. + +Second Commoner +A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe +conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. + +MARULLUS +What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? + +Second Commoner +Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, +if you be out, sir, I can mend you. + +MARULLUS +What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! + +Second Commoner +Why, sir, cobble you. + +FLAVIUS +Thou art a cobbler, art thou? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I +meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's +matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon +to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I +recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon +neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. + +FLAVIUS +But wherefore art not in thy shop today? +Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself +into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, +to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. + +MARULLUS +Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? +What tributaries follow him to Rome, +To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? +You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! +O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, +Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft +Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, +To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, +Your infants in your arms, and there have sat +The livelong day, with patient expectation, +To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: +And when you saw his chariot but appear, +Have you not made an universal shout, +That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, +To hear the replication of your sounds +Made in her concave shores? +And do you now put on your best attire? +And do you now cull out a holiday? +And do you now strew flowers in his way +That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! +Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, +Pray to the gods to intermit the plague +That needs must light on this ingratitude. + +FLAVIUS +Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, +Assemble all the poor men of your sort; +Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears +Into the channel, till the lowest stream +Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. + +Exeunt all the Commoners + +See whether their basest metal be not moved; +They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. +Go you down that way towards the Capitol; + +This way will I +disrobe the images, +If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. + +MARULLUS +May we do so? +You know it is the feast of Lupercal. + +FLAVIUS +It is no matter; let no images +Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, +And drive away the vulgar from the streets: +So do you too, where you perceive them thick. +These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing +Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, +Who else would soar above the view of men +And keep us all in servile fearfulness. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CASCA +Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. + +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CALPURNIA +Here, my lord. + +CAESAR +Stand you directly in Antonius' way, +When he doth run his course. Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar, my lord? + +CAESAR +Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, +To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, +The barren, touched in this holy chase, +Shake off their sterile curse. + +ANTONY +I shall remember: +When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd. + +CAESAR +Set on; and leave no ceremony out. + +Flourish + +Soothsayer +Caesar! + +CAESAR +Ha! who calls? + +CASCA +Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! + +CAESAR +Who is it in the press that calls on me? +I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, +Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +What man is that? + +BRUTUS +A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +Set him before me; let me see his face. + +CASSIUS +Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar. + +CAESAR +What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. + +Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Will you go see the order of the course? + +BRUTUS +Not I. + +CASSIUS +I pray you, do. + +BRUTUS +I am not gamesome: I do lack some part +Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. +Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; +I'll leave you. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, I do observe you now of late: +I have not from your eyes that gentleness +And show of love as I was wont to have: +You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand +Over your friend that loves you. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, +Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, +I turn the trouble of my countenance +Merely upon myself. Vexed I am +Of late with passions of some difference, +Conceptions only proper to myself, +Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors; +But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-- +Among which number, Cassius, be you one-- +Nor construe any further my neglect, +Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, +Forgets the shows of love to other men. + +CASSIUS +Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; +By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried +Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. +Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, +But by reflection, by some other things. + +CASSIUS +'Tis just: +And it is very much lamented, Brutus, +That you have no such mirrors as will turn +Your hidden worthiness into your eye, +That you might see your shadow. I have heard, +Where many of the best respect in Rome, +Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus +And groaning underneath this age's yoke, +Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, +That you would have me seek into myself +For that which is not in me? + +CASSIUS +Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: +And since you know you cannot see yourself +So well as by reflection, I, your glass, +Will modestly discover to yourself +That of yourself which you yet know not of. +And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: +Were I a common laugher, or did use +To stale with ordinary oaths my love +To every new protester; if you know +That I do fawn on men and hug them hard +And after scandal them, or if you know +That I profess myself in banqueting +To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. + +Flourish, and shout + +BRUTUS +What means this shouting? I do fear, the people +Choose Caesar for their king. + +CASSIUS +Ay, do you fear it? +Then must I think you would not have it so. + +BRUTUS +I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. +But wherefore do you hold me here so long? +What is it that you would impart to me? +If it be aught toward the general good, +Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, +And I will look on both indifferently, +For let the gods so speed me as I love +The name of honour more than I fear death. + +CASSIUS +I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, +As well as I do know your outward favour. +Well, honour is the subject of my story. +I cannot tell what you and other men +Think of this life; but, for my single self, +I had as lief not be as live to be +In awe of such a thing as I myself. +I was born free as Caesar; so were you: +We both have fed as well, and we can both +Endure the winter's cold as well as he: +For once, upon a raw and gusty day, +The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, +Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now +Leap in with me into this angry flood, +And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word, +Accoutred as I was, I plunged in +And bade him follow; so indeed he did. +The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it +With lusty sinews, throwing it aside +And stemming it with hearts of controversy; +But ere we could arrive the point proposed, +Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!' +I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, +Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder +The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber +Did I the tired Caesar. And this man +Is now become a god, and Cassius is +A wretched creature and must bend his body, +If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. +He had a fever when he was in Spain, +And when the fit was on him, I did mark +How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake; +His coward lips did from their colour fly, +And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world +Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: +Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans +Mark him and write his speeches in their books, +Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,' +As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me +A man of such a feeble temper should +So get the start of the majestic world +And bear the palm alone. + +Shout. Flourish + +BRUTUS +Another general shout! +I do believe that these applauses are +For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar. + +CASSIUS +Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world +Like a Colossus, and we petty men +Walk under his huge legs and peep about +To find ourselves dishonourable graves. +Men at some time are masters of their fates: +The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, +But in ourselves, that we are underlings. +Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'? +Why should that name be sounded more than yours? +Write them together, yours is as fair a name; +Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; +Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, +Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. +Now, in the names of all the gods at once, +Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, +That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! +Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! +When went there by an age, since the great flood, +But it was famed with more than with one man? +When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome, +That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? +Now is it Rome indeed and room enough, +When there is in it but one only man. +O, you and I have heard our fathers say, +There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd +The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome +As easily as a king. + +BRUTUS +That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; +What you would work me to, I have some aim: +How I have thought of this and of these times, +I shall recount hereafter; for this present, +I would not, so with love I might entreat you, +Be any further moved. What you have said +I will consider; what you have to say +I will with patience hear, and find a time +Both meet to hear and answer such high things. +Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: +Brutus had rather be a villager +Than to repute himself a son of Rome +Under these hard conditions as this time +Is like to lay upon us. + +CASSIUS +I am glad that my weak words +Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. + +BRUTUS +The games are done and Caesar is returning. + +CASSIUS +As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; +And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you +What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. + +Re-enter CAESAR and his Train + +BRUTUS +I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, +The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, +And all the rest look like a chidden train: +Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero +Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes +As we have seen him in the Capitol, +Being cross'd in conference by some senators. + +CASSIUS +Casca will tell us what the matter is. + +CAESAR +Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar? + +CAESAR +Let me have men about me that are fat; +Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights: +Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; +He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. + +ANTONY +Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous; +He is a noble Roman and well given. + +CAESAR +Would he were fatter! But I fear him not: +Yet if my name were liable to fear, +I do not know the man I should avoid +So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; +He is a great observer and he looks +Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, +As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; +Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort +As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit +That could be moved to smile at any thing. +Such men as he be never at heart's ease +Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, +And therefore are they very dangerous. +I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd +Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. +Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, +And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. + +Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA + +CASCA +You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me? + +BRUTUS +Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, +That Caesar looks so sad. + +CASCA +Why, you were with him, were you not? + +BRUTUS +I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. + +CASCA +Why, there was a crown offered him: and being +offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, +thus; and then the people fell a-shouting. + +BRUTUS +What was the second noise for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +CASSIUS +They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +BRUTUS +Was the crown offered him thrice? + +CASCA +Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every +time gentler than other, and at every putting-by +mine honest neighbours shouted. + +CASSIUS +Who offered him the crown? + +CASCA +Why, Antony. + +BRUTUS +Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. + +CASCA +I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: +it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark +Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown +neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told +you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my +thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he +offered it to him again; then he put it by again: +but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his +fingers off it. And then he offered it the third +time; he put it the third time by: and still as he +refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their +chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps +and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because +Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked +Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and +for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of +opening my lips and receiving the bad air. + +CASSIUS +But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? + +CASCA +He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at +mouth, and was speechless. + +BRUTUS +'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness. + +CASSIUS +No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I, +And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. + +CASCA +I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, +Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not +clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and +displeased them, as they use to do the players in +the theatre, I am no true man. + +BRUTUS +What said he when he came unto himself? + +CASCA +Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the +common herd was glad he refused the crown, he +plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his +throat to cut. An I had been a man of any +occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, +I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so +he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, +If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired +their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three +or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good +soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but +there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had +stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. + +BRUTUS +And after that, he came, thus sad, away? + +CASCA +Ay. + +CASSIUS +Did Cicero say any thing? + +CASCA +Ay, he spoke Greek. + +CASSIUS +To what effect? + +CASCA +Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the +face again: but those that understood him smiled at +one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own +part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more +news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs +off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you +well. There was more foolery yet, if I could +remember it. + +CASSIUS +Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? + +CASCA +No, I am promised forth. + +CASSIUS +Will you dine with me to-morrow? + +CASCA +Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner +worth the eating. + +CASSIUS +Good: I will expect you. + +CASCA +Do so. Farewell, both. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! +He was quick mettle when he went to school. + +CASSIUS +So is he now in execution +Of any bold or noble enterprise, +However he puts on this tardy form. +This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, +Which gives men stomach to digest his words +With better appetite. + +BRUTUS +And so it is. For this time I will leave you: +To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, +I will come home to you; or, if you will, +Come home to me, and I will wait for you. + +CASSIUS +I will do so: till then, think of the world. + +Exit BRUTUS + +Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, +Thy honourable metal may be wrought +From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet +That noble minds keep ever with their likes; +For who so firm that cannot be seduced? +Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: +If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, +He should not humour me. I will this night, +In several hands, in at his windows throw, +As if they came from several citizens, +Writings all tending to the great opinion +That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely +Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at: +And after this let Caesar seat him sure; +For we will shake him, or worse days endure. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The same. A street. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO +CICERO +Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? +Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? + +CASCA +Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth +Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, +I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds +Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen +The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, +To be exalted with the threatening clouds: +But never till to-night, never till now, +Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. +Either there is a civil strife in heaven, +Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, +Incenses them to send destruction. + +CICERO +Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? + +CASCA +A common slave--you know him well by sight-- +Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn +Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand, +Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. +Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword-- +Against the Capitol I met a lion, +Who glared upon me, and went surly by, +Without annoying me: and there were drawn +Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, +Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw +Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. +And yesterday the bird of night did sit +Even at noon-day upon the market-place, +Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies +Do so conjointly meet, let not men say +'These are their reasons; they are natural;' +For, I believe, they are portentous things +Unto the climate that they point upon. + +CICERO +Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: +But men may construe things after their fashion, +Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. +Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow? + +CASCA +He doth; for he did bid Antonius +Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. + +CICERO +Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky +Is not to walk in. + +CASCA +Farewell, Cicero. + +Exit CICERO + +Enter CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Who's there? + +CASCA +A Roman. + +CASSIUS +Casca, by your voice. + +CASCA +Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! + +CASSIUS +A very pleasing night to honest men. + +CASCA +Who ever knew the heavens menace so? + +CASSIUS +Those that have known the earth so full of faults. +For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, +Submitting me unto the perilous night, +And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, +Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; +And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open +The breast of heaven, I did present myself +Even in the aim and very flash of it. + +CASCA +But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? +It is the part of men to fear and tremble, +When the most mighty gods by tokens send +Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. + +CASSIUS +You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life +That should be in a Roman you do want, +Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze +And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, +To see the strange impatience of the heavens: +But if you would consider the true cause +Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, +Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, +Why old men fool and children calculate, +Why all these things change from their ordinance +Their natures and preformed faculties +To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find +That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, +To make them instruments of fear and warning +Unto some monstrous state. +Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man +Most like this dreadful night, +That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars +As doth the lion in the Capitol, +A man no mightier than thyself or me +In personal action, yet prodigious grown +And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. + +CASCA +'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius? + +CASSIUS +Let it be who it is: for Romans now +Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; +But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, +And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; +Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. + +CASCA +Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow +Mean to establish Caesar as a king; +And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, +In every place, save here in Italy. + +CASSIUS +I know where I will wear this dagger then; +Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: +Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; +Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: +Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, +Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, +Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; +But life, being weary of these worldly bars, +Never lacks power to dismiss itself. +If I know this, know all the world besides, +That part of tyranny that I do bear +I can shake off at pleasure. + +Thunder still + +CASCA +So can I: +So every bondman in his own hand bears +The power to cancel his captivity. + +CASSIUS +And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? +Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, +But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: +He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. +Those that with haste will make a mighty fire +Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, +What rubbish and what offal, when it serves +For the base matter to illuminate +So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, +Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this +Before a willing bondman; then I know +My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, +And dangers are to me indifferent. + +CASCA +You speak to Casca, and to such a man +That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: +Be factious for redress of all these griefs, +And I will set this foot of mine as far +As who goes farthest. + +CASSIUS +There's a bargain made. +Now know you, Casca, I have moved already +Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans +To undergo with me an enterprise +Of honourable-dangerous consequence; +And I do know, by this, they stay for me +In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night, +There is no stir or walking in the streets; +And the complexion of the element +In favour's like the work we have in hand, +Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. + +CASCA +Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. + +CASSIUS +'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; +He is a friend. + +Enter CINNA + +Cinna, where haste you so? + +CINNA +To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? + +CASSIUS +No, it is Casca; one incorporate +To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? + +CINNA +I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this! +There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. + +CASSIUS +Am I not stay'd for? tell me. + +CINNA +Yes, you are. +O Cassius, if you could +But win the noble Brutus to our party-- + +CASSIUS +Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, +And look you lay it in the praetor's chair, +Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this +In at his window; set this up with wax +Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done, +Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. +Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? + +CINNA +All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone +To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, +And so bestow these papers as you bade me. + +CASSIUS +That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. + +Exit CINNA + +Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day +See Brutus at his house: three parts of him +Is ours already, and the man entire +Upon the next encounter yields him ours. + +CASCA +O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: +And that which would appear offence in us, +His countenance, like richest alchemy, +Will change to virtue and to worthiness. + +CASSIUS +Him and his worth and our great need of him +You have right well conceited. Let us go, +For it is after midnight; and ere day +We will awake him and be sure of him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard. + +Enter BRUTUS +BRUTUS +What, Lucius, ho! +I cannot, by the progress of the stars, +Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! +I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. +When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius! + +Enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Call'd you, my lord? + +BRUTUS +Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: +When it is lighted, come and call me here. + +LUCIUS +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +It must be by his death: and for my part, +I know no personal cause to spurn at him, +But for the general. He would be crown'd: +How that might change his nature, there's the question. +It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; +And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;-- +And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, +That at his will he may do danger with. +The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins +Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, +I have not known when his affections sway'd +More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, +That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, +Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; +But when he once attains the upmost round. +He then unto the ladder turns his back, +Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees +By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. +Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel +Will bear no colour for the thing he is, +Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, +Would run to these and these extremities: +And therefore think him as a serpent's egg +Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, +And kill him in the shell. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +The taper burneth in your closet, sir. +Searching the window for a flint, I found +This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, +It did not lie there when I went to bed. + +Gives him the letter + +BRUTUS +Get you to bed again; it is not day. +Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? + +LUCIUS +I know not, sir. + +BRUTUS +Look in the calendar, and bring me word. + +LUCIUS +I will, sir. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +The exhalations whizzing in the air +Give so much light that I may read by them. + +Opens the letter and reads + +'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. +Shall Rome, & c. Speak, strike, redress! +Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' +Such instigations have been often dropp'd +Where I have took them up. +'Shall Rome, & c.' Thus must I piece it out: +Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? +My ancestors did from the streets of Rome +The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. +'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated +To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: +If the redress will follow, thou receivest +Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. + +Knocking within + +BRUTUS +'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. + +Exit LUCIUS + +Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, +I have not slept. +Between the acting of a dreadful thing +And the first motion, all the interim is +Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: +The Genius and the mortal instruments +Are then in council; and the state of man, +Like to a little kingdom, suffers then +The nature of an insurrection. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, +Who doth desire to see you. + +BRUTUS +Is he alone? + +LUCIUS +No, sir, there are moe with him. + +BRUTUS +Do you know them? + +LUCIUS +No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, +And half their faces buried in their cloaks, +That by no means I may discover them +By any mark of favour. + +BRUTUS +Let 'em enter. + +Exit LUCIUS + +They are the faction. O conspiracy, +Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, +When evils are most free? O, then by day +Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough +To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; +Hide it in smiles and affability: +For if thou path, thy native semblance on, +Not Erebus itself were dim enough +To hide thee from prevention. + +Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +I think we are too bold upon your rest: +Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? + +BRUTUS +I have been up this hour, awake all night. +Know I these men that come along with you? + +CASSIUS +Yes, every man of them, and no man here +But honours you; and every one doth wish +You had but that opinion of yourself +Which every noble Roman bears of you. +This is Trebonius. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome hither. + +CASSIUS +This, Decius Brutus. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome too. + +CASSIUS +This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. + +BRUTUS +They are all welcome. +What watchful cares do interpose themselves +Betwixt your eyes and night? + +CASSIUS +Shall I entreat a word? + +BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? + +CASCA +No. + +CINNA +O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines +That fret the clouds are messengers of day. + +CASCA +You shall confess that you are both deceived. +Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, +Which is a great way growing on the south, +Weighing the youthful season of the year. +Some two months hence up higher toward the north +He first presents his fire; and the high east +Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. + +BRUTUS +Give me your hands all over, one by one. + +CASSIUS +And let us swear our resolution. + +BRUTUS +No, not an oath: if not the face of men, +The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,-- +If these be motives weak, break off betimes, +And every man hence to his idle bed; +So let high-sighted tyranny range on, +Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, +As I am sure they do, bear fire enough +To kindle cowards and to steel with valour +The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, +What need we any spur but our own cause, +To prick us to redress? what other bond +Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, +And will not palter? and what other oath +Than honesty to honesty engaged, +That this shall be, or we will fall for it? +Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, +Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls +That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear +Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain +The even virtue of our enterprise, +Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, +To think that or our cause or our performance +Did need an oath; when every drop of blood +That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, +Is guilty of a several bastardy, +If he do break the smallest particle +Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. + +CASSIUS +But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? +I think he will stand very strong with us. + +CASCA +Let us not leave him out. + +CINNA +No, by no means. + +METELLUS CIMBER +O, let us have him, for his silver hairs +Will purchase us a good opinion +And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: +It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; +Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, +But all be buried in his gravity. + +BRUTUS +O, name him not: let us not break with him; +For he will never follow any thing +That other men begin. + +CASSIUS +Then leave him out. + +CASCA +Indeed he is not fit. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar? + +CASSIUS +Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, +Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, +Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him +A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, +If he improve them, may well stretch so far +As to annoy us all: which to prevent, +Let Antony and Caesar fall together. + +BRUTUS +Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, +To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, +Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; +For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: +Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. +We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; +And in the spirit of men there is no blood: +O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, +And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, +Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, +Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; +Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, +Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: +And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, +Stir up their servants to an act of rage, +And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make +Our purpose necessary and not envious: +Which so appearing to the common eyes, +We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. +And for Mark Antony, think not of him; +For he can do no more than Caesar's arm +When Caesar's head is off. + +CASSIUS +Yet I fear him; +For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar-- + +BRUTUS +Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: +If he love Caesar, all that he can do +Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: +And that were much he should; for he is given +To sports, to wildness and much company. + +TREBONIUS +There is no fear in him; let him not die; +For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. + +Clock strikes + +BRUTUS +Peace! count the clock. + +CASSIUS +The clock hath stricken three. + +TREBONIUS +'Tis time to part. + +CASSIUS +But it is doubtful yet, +Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no; +For he is superstitious grown of late, +Quite from the main opinion he held once +Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: +It may be, these apparent prodigies, +The unaccustom'd terror of this night, +And the persuasion of his augurers, +May hold him from the Capitol to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Never fear that: if he be so resolved, +I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear +That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, +And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, +Lions with toils and men with flatterers; +But when I tell him he hates flatterers, +He says he does, being then most flattered. +Let me work; +For I can give his humour the true bent, +And I will bring him to the Capitol. + +CASSIUS +Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. + +BRUTUS +By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? + +CINNA +Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, +Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: +I wonder none of you have thought of him. + +BRUTUS +Now, good Metellus, go along by him: +He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; +Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. + +CASSIUS +The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus. +And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember +What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. + +BRUTUS +Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; +Let not our looks put on our purposes, +But bear it as our Roman actors do, +With untired spirits and formal constancy: +And so good morrow to you every one. + +Exeunt all but BRUTUS + +Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; +Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: +Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, +Which busy care draws in the brains of men; +Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. + +Enter PORTIA + +PORTIA +Brutus, my lord! + +BRUTUS +Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? +It is not for your health thus to commit +Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. + +PORTIA +Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, +Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, +You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, +Musing and sighing, with your arms across, +And when I ask'd you what the matter was, +You stared upon me with ungentle looks; +I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, +And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; +Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, +But, with an angry wafture of your hand, +Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; +Fearing to strengthen that impatience +Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal +Hoping it was but an effect of humour, +Which sometime hath his hour with every man. +It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, +And could it work so much upon your shape +As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, +I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, +Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. + +BRUTUS +I am not well in health, and that is all. + +PORTIA +Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, +He would embrace the means to come by it. + +BRUTUS +Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. + +PORTIA +Is Brutus sick? and is it physical +To walk unbraced and suck up the humours +Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, +And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, +To dare the vile contagion of the night +And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air +To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; +You have some sick offence within your mind, +Which, by the right and virtue of my place, +I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, +I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, +By all your vows of love and that great vow +Which did incorporate and make us one, +That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, +Why you are heavy, and what men to-night +Have had to resort to you: for here have been +Some six or seven, who did hide their faces +Even from darkness. + +BRUTUS +Kneel not, gentle Portia. + +PORTIA +I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. +Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, +Is it excepted I should know no secrets +That appertain to you? Am I yourself +But, as it were, in sort or limitation, +To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, +And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs +Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, +Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. + +BRUTUS +You are my true and honourable wife, +As dear to me as are the ruddy drops +That visit my sad heart + +PORTIA +If this were true, then should I know this secret. +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. +Think you I am no stronger than my sex, +Being so father'd and so husbanded? +Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: +I have made strong proof of my constancy, +Giving myself a voluntary wound +Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. +And not my husband's secrets? + +BRUTUS +O ye gods, +Render me worthy of this noble wife! + +Knocking within + +Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; +And by and by thy bosom shall partake +The secrets of my heart. +All my engagements I will construe to thee, +All the charactery of my sad brows: +Leave me with haste. + +Exit PORTIA + +Lucius, who's that knocks? + +Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS + +LUCIUS +He is a sick man that would speak with you. + +BRUTUS +Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. +Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? + +LIGARIUS +Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. + +BRUTUS +O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, +To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! + +LIGARIUS +I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand +Any exploit worthy the name of honour. + +BRUTUS +Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, +Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. + +LIGARIUS +By all the gods that Romans bow before, +I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! +Brave son, derived from honourable loins! +Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up +My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, +And I will strive with things impossible; +Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? + +BRUTUS +A piece of work that will make sick men whole. + +LIGARIUS +But are not some whole that we must make sick? + +BRUTUS +That must we also. What it is, my Caius, +I shall unfold to thee, as we are going +To whom it must be done. + +LIGARIUS +Set on your foot, +And with a heart new-fired I follow you, +To do I know not what: but it sufficeth +That Brutus leads me on. + +BRUTUS +Follow me, then. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. CAESAR's house. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown +CAESAR +Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: +Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, +'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within? + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord? + +CAESAR +Go bid the priests do present sacrifice +And bring me their opinions of success. + +Servant +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +Enter CALPURNIA + +CALPURNIA +What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth? +You shall not stir out of your house to-day. + +CAESAR +Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me +Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see +The face of Caesar, they are vanished. + +CALPURNIA +Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies, +Yet now they fright me. There is one within, +Besides the things that we have heard and seen, +Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. +A lioness hath whelped in the streets; +And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; +Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, +In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, +Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; +The noise of battle hurtled in the air, +Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, +And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. +O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, +And I do fear them. + +CAESAR +What can be avoided +Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? +Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions +Are to the world in general as to Caesar. + +CALPURNIA +When beggars die, there are no comets seen; +The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. + +CAESAR +Cowards die many times before their deaths; +The valiant never taste of death but once. +Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. +It seems to me most strange that men should fear; +Seeing that death, a necessary end, +Will come when it will come. + +Re-enter Servant + +What say the augurers? + +Servant +They would not have you to stir forth to-day. +Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, +They could not find a heart within the beast. + +CAESAR +The gods do this in shame of cowardice: +Caesar should be a beast without a heart, +If he should stay at home to-day for fear. +No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well +That Caesar is more dangerous than he: +We are two lions litter'd in one day, +And I the elder and more terrible: +And Caesar shall go forth. + +CALPURNIA +Alas, my lord, +Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. +Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear +That keeps you in the house, and not your own. +We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house: +And he shall say you are not well to-day: +Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. + +CAESAR +Mark Antony shall say I am not well, +And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. + +Enter DECIUS BRUTUS + +Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar: +I come to fetch you to the senate-house. + +CAESAR +And you are come in very happy time, +To bear my greeting to the senators +And tell them that I will not come to-day: +Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: +I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. + +CALPURNIA +Say he is sick. + +CAESAR +Shall Caesar send a lie? +Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far, +To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth? +Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, +Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so. + +CAESAR +The cause is in my will: I will not come; +That is enough to satisfy the senate. +But for your private satisfaction, +Because I love you, I will let you know: +Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: +She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, +Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, +Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans +Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: +And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, +And evils imminent; and on her knee +Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +This dream is all amiss interpreted; +It was a vision fair and fortunate: +Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +In which so many smiling Romans bathed, +Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck +Reviving blood, and that great men shall press +For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. +This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. + +CAESAR +And this way have you well expounded it. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +I have, when you have heard what I can say: +And know it now: the senate have concluded +To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. +If you shall send them word you will not come, +Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock +Apt to be render'd, for some one to say +'Break up the senate till another time, +When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' +If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper +'Lo, Caesar is afraid'? +Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love +To our proceeding bids me tell you this; +And reason to my love is liable. + +CAESAR +How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! +I am ashamed I did yield to them. +Give me my robe, for I will go. + +Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA + +And look where Publius is come to fetch me. + +PUBLIUS +Good morrow, Caesar. + +CAESAR +Welcome, Publius. +What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? +Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, +Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy +As that same ague which hath made you lean. +What is 't o'clock? + +BRUTUS +Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. + +CAESAR +I thank you for your pains and courtesy. + +Enter ANTONY + +See! Antony, that revels long o' nights, +Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. + +ANTONY +So to most noble Caesar. + +CAESAR +Bid them prepare within: +I am to blame to be thus waited for. +Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! +I have an hour's talk in store for you; +Remember that you call on me to-day: +Be near me, that I may remember you. + +TREBONIUS +Caesar, I will: + +Aside + +and so near will I be, +That your best friends shall wish I had been further. + +CAESAR +Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; +And we, like friends, will straightway go together. + +BRUTUS +[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar, +The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A street near the Capitol. + +Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper +ARTEMIDORUS +'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; +come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not +Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus +loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. +There is but one mind in all these men, and it is +bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, +look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. +The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, +'ARTEMIDORUS.' +Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, +And as a suitor will I give him this. +My heart laments that virtue cannot live +Out of the teeth of emulation. +If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; +If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS. + +Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS +PORTIA +I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; +Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: +Why dost thou stay? + +LUCIUS +To know my errand, madam. + +PORTIA +I would have had thee there, and here again, +Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. +O constancy, be strong upon my side, +Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! +I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. +How hard it is for women to keep counsel! +Art thou here yet? + +LUCIUS +Madam, what should I do? +Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? +And so return to you, and nothing else? + +PORTIA +Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, +For he went sickly forth: and take good note +What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. +Hark, boy! what noise is that? + +LUCIUS +I hear none, madam. + +PORTIA +Prithee, listen well; +I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, +And the wind brings it from the Capitol. + +LUCIUS +Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. + +Enter the Soothsayer + +PORTIA +Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been? + +Soothsayer +At mine own house, good lady. + +PORTIA +What is't o'clock? + +Soothsayer +About the ninth hour, lady. + +PORTIA +Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? + +Soothsayer +Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, +To see him pass on to the Capitol. + +PORTIA +Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not? + +Soothsayer +That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar +To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, +I shall beseech him to befriend himself. + +PORTIA +Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him? + +Soothsayer +None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. +Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: +The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, +Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, +Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: +I'll get me to a place more void, and there +Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. + +Exit + +PORTIA +I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing +The heart of woman is! O Brutus, +The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! +Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit +That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. +Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; +Say I am merry: come to me again, +And bring me word what he doth say to thee. + +Exeunt severally + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. + +A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others +CAESAR +[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come. + +Soothsayer +Ay, Caesar; but not gone. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Hail, Caesar! read this schedule. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, +At your best leisure, this his humble suit. + +ARTEMIDORUS +O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit +That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar. + +CAESAR +What touches us ourself shall be last served. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly. + +CAESAR +What, is the fellow mad? + +PUBLIUS +Sirrah, give place. + +CASSIUS +What, urge you your petitions in the street? +Come to the Capitol. + +CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following + +POPILIUS +I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. + +CASSIUS +What enterprise, Popilius? + +POPILIUS +Fare you well. + +Advances to CAESAR + +BRUTUS +What said Popilius Lena? + +CASSIUS +He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. +I fear our purpose is discovered. + +BRUTUS +Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him. + +CASSIUS +Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. +Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, +Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, +For I will slay myself. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, be constant: +Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; +For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. + +CASSIUS +Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus. +He draws Mark Antony out of the way. + +Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, +And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. + +BRUTUS +He is address'd: press near and second him. + +CINNA +Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. + +CAESAR +Are we all ready? What is now amiss +That Caesar and his senate must redress? + +METELLUS CIMBER +Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, +Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat +An humble heart,-- + +Kneeling + +CAESAR +I must prevent thee, Cimber. +These couchings and these lowly courtesies +Might fire the blood of ordinary men, +And turn pre-ordinance and first decree +Into the law of children. Be not fond, +To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood +That will be thaw'd from the true quality +With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, +Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. +Thy brother by decree is banished: +If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, +I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. +Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause +Will he be satisfied. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Is there no voice more worthy than my own +To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear +For the repealing of my banish'd brother? + +BRUTUS +I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; +Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may +Have an immediate freedom of repeal. + +CAESAR +What, Brutus! + +CASSIUS +Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: +As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, +To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. + +CASSIUS +I could be well moved, if I were as you: +If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: +But I am constant as the northern star, +Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality +There is no fellow in the firmament. +The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, +They are all fire and every one doth shine, +But there's but one in all doth hold his place: +So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, +And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; +Yet in the number I do know but one +That unassailable holds on his rank, +Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, +Let me a little show it, even in this; +That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, +And constant do remain to keep him so. + +CINNA +O Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Great Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? + +CASCA +Speak, hands for me! + +CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR + +CAESAR +Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar. + +Dies + +CINNA +Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! +Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. + +CASSIUS +Some to the common pulpits, and cry out +'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!' + +BRUTUS +People and senators, be not affrighted; +Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid. + +CASCA +Go to the pulpit, Brutus. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +And Cassius too. + +BRUTUS +Where's Publius? + +CINNA +Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's +Should chance-- + +BRUTUS +Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; +There is no harm intended to your person, +Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. + +CASSIUS +And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, +Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. + +BRUTUS +Do so: and let no man abide this deed, +But we the doers. + +Re-enter TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +Where is Antony? + +TREBONIUS +Fled to his house amazed: +Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run +As it were doomsday. + +BRUTUS +Fates, we will know your pleasures: +That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time +And drawing days out, that men stand upon. + +CASSIUS +Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life +Cuts off so many years of fearing death. + +BRUTUS +Grant that, and then is death a benefit: +So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged +His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, +And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood +Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: +Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, +And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, +Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' + +CASSIUS +Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence +Shall this our lofty scene be acted over +In states unborn and accents yet unknown! + +BRUTUS +How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, +That now on Pompey's basis lies along +No worthier than the dust! + +CASSIUS +So oft as that shall be, +So often shall the knot of us be call'd +The men that gave their country liberty. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +What, shall we forth? + +CASSIUS +Ay, every man away: +Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels +With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. + +Enter a Servant + +BRUTUS +Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. + +Servant +Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: +Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; +And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: +Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; +Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: +Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; +Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him. +If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony +May safely come to him, and be resolved +How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, +Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead +So well as Brutus living; but will follow +The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus +Thorough the hazards of this untrod state +With all true faith. So says my master Antony. + +BRUTUS +Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; +I never thought him worse. +Tell him, so please him come unto this place, +He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, +Depart untouch'd. + +Servant +I'll fetch him presently. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +I know that we shall have him well to friend. + +CASSIUS +I wish we may: but yet have I a mind +That fears him much; and my misgiving still +Falls shrewdly to the purpose. + +BRUTUS +But here comes Antony. + +Re-enter ANTONY + +Welcome, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? +Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, +Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. +I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, +Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: +If I myself, there is no hour so fit +As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument +Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich +With the most noble blood of all this world. +I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, +Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, +Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, +I shall not find myself so apt to die: +No place will please me so, no mean of death, +As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, +The choice and master spirits of this age. + +BRUTUS +O Antony, beg not your death of us. +Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, +As, by our hands and this our present act, +You see we do, yet see you but our hands +And this the bleeding business they have done: +Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; +And pity to the general wrong of Rome-- +As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-- +Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, +To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: +Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts +Of brothers' temper, do receive you in +With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. + +CASSIUS +Your voice shall be as strong as any man's +In the disposing of new dignities. + +BRUTUS +Only be patient till we have appeased +The multitude, beside themselves with fear, +And then we will deliver you the cause, +Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, +Have thus proceeded. + +ANTONY +I doubt not of your wisdom. +Let each man render me his bloody hand: +First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; +Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; +Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; +Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; +Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. +Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say? +My credit now stands on such slippery ground, +That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, +Either a coward or a flatterer. +That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true: +If then thy spirit look upon us now, +Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, +To see thy thy Anthony making his peace, +Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, +Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? +Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, +Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, +It would become me better than to close +In terms of friendship with thine enemies. +Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; +Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, +Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe. +O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; +And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. +How like a deer, strucken by many princes, +Dost thou here lie! + +CASSIUS +Mark Antony,-- + +ANTONY +Pardon me, Caius Cassius: +The enemies of Caesar shall say this; +Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. + +CASSIUS +I blame you not for praising Caesar so; +But what compact mean you to have with us? +Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; +Or shall we on, and not depend on you? + +ANTONY +Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, +Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. +Friends am I with you all and love you all, +Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons +Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. + +BRUTUS +Or else were this a savage spectacle: +Our reasons are so full of good regard +That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, +You should be satisfied. + +ANTONY +That's all I seek: +And am moreover suitor that I may +Produce his body to the market-place; +And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, +Speak in the order of his funeral. + +BRUTUS +You shall, Mark Antony. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, a word with you. + +Aside to BRUTUS + +You know not what you do: do not consent +That Antony speak in his funeral: +Know you how much the people may be moved +By that which he will utter? + +BRUTUS +By your pardon; +I will myself into the pulpit first, +And show the reason of our Caesar's death: +What Antony shall speak, I will protest +He speaks by leave and by permission, +And that we are contented Caesar shall +Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. +It shall advantage more than do us wrong. + +CASSIUS +I know not what may fall; I like it not. + +BRUTUS +Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. +You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, +But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, +And say you do't by our permission; +Else shall you not have any hand at all +About his funeral: and you shall speak +In the same pulpit whereto I am going, +After my speech is ended. + +ANTONY +Be it so. +I do desire no more. + +BRUTUS +Prepare the body then, and follow us. + +Exeunt all but ANTONY + +ANTONY +O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, +That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! +Thou art the ruins of the noblest man +That ever lived in the tide of times. +Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! +Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-- +Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, +To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue-- +A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; +Domestic fury and fierce civil strife +Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; +Blood and destruction shall be so in use +And dreadful objects so familiar +That mothers shall but smile when they behold +Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war; +All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: +And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, +With Ate by his side come hot from hell, +Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice +Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; +That this foul deed shall smell above the earth +With carrion men, groaning for burial. + +Enter a Servant + +You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? + +Servant +I do, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. + +Servant +He did receive his letters, and is coming; +And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- +O Caesar!-- + +Seeing the body + +ANTONY +Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. +Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, +Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, +Began to water. Is thy master coming? + +Servant +He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. + +ANTONY +Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: +Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, +No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; +Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; +Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse +Into the market-place: there shall I try +In my oration, how the people take +The cruel issue of these bloody men; +According to the which, thou shalt discourse +To young Octavius of the state of things. +Lend me your hand. + +Exeunt with CAESAR's body + +SCENE II. The Forum. + +Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens +Citizens +We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied. + +BRUTUS +Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. +Cassius, go you into the other street, +And part the numbers. +Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; +Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; +And public reasons shall be rendered +Of Caesar's death. + +King Lear +Shakespeare homepage | King Lear | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. King Lear's palace. + +Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND +KENT +I thought the king had more affected the Duke of +Albany than Cornwall. + +GLOUCESTER +It did always seem so to us: but now, in the +division of the kingdom, it appears not which of +the dukes he values most; for equalities are so +weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice +of either's moiety. + +KENT +Is not this your son, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have +so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am +brazed to it. + +KENT +I cannot conceive you. + +GLOUCESTER +Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon +she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son +for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. +Do you smell a fault? + +KENT +I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it +being so proper. + +GLOUCESTER +But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year +elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: +though this knave came something saucily into the +world before he was sent for, yet was his mother +fair; there was good sport at his making, and the +whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this +noble gentleman, Edmund? + +EDMUND +No, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my +honourable friend. + +EDMUND +My services to your lordship. + +KENT +I must love you, and sue to know you better. + +EDMUND +Sir, I shall study deserving. + +GLOUCESTER +He hath been out nine years, and away he shall +again. The king is coming. + +Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. + +GLOUCESTER +I shall, my liege. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND + +KING LEAR +Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. +Give me the map there. Know that we have divided +In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent +To shake all cares and business from our age; +Conferring them on younger strengths, while we +Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, +And you, our no less loving son of Albany, +We have this hour a constant will to publish +Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife +May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, +Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, +Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, +And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,-- +Since now we will divest us both of rule, +Interest of territory, cares of state,-- +Which of you shall we say doth love us most? +That we our largest bounty may extend +Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, +Our eldest-born, speak first. + +GONERIL +Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; +Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; +Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; +No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; +As much as child e'er loved, or father found; +A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; +Beyond all manner of so much I love you. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] What shall Cordelia do? +Love, and be silent. + +LEAR +Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, +With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, +With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, +We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue +Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, +Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak. + +REGAN +Sir, I am made +Of the self-same metal that my sister is, +And prize me at her worth. In my true heart +I find she names my very deed of love; +Only she comes too short: that I profess +Myself an enemy to all other joys, +Which the most precious square of sense possesses; +And find I am alone felicitate +In your dear highness' love. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] Then poor Cordelia! +And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's +More richer than my tongue. + +KING LEAR +To thee and thine hereditary ever +Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; +No less in space, validity, and pleasure, +Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy, +Although the last, not least; to whose young love +The vines of France and milk of Burgundy +Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw +A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. + +CORDELIA +Nothing, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Nothing! + +CORDELIA +Nothing. + +KING LEAR +Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. + +CORDELIA +Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave +My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty +According to my bond; nor more nor less. + +KING LEAR +How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, +Lest it may mar your fortunes. + +CORDELIA +Good my lord, +You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I +Return those duties back as are right fit, +Obey you, love you, and most honour you. +Why have my sisters husbands, if they say +They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, +That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry +Half my love with him, half my care and duty: +Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, +To love my father all. + +KING LEAR +But goes thy heart with this? + +CORDELIA +Ay, good my lord. + +KING LEAR +So young, and so untender? + +CORDELIA +So young, my lord, and true. + +KING LEAR +Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower: +For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, +The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; +By all the operation of the orbs +From whom we do exist, and cease to be; +Here I disclaim all my paternal care, +Propinquity and property of blood, +And as a stranger to my heart and me +Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, +Or he that makes his generation messes +To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom +Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved, +As thou my sometime daughter. + +KENT +Good my liege,-- + +KING LEAR +Peace, Kent! +Come not between the dragon and his wrath. +I loved her most, and thought to set my rest +On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight! +So be my grave my peace, as here I give +Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs? +Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany, +With my two daughters' dowers digest this third: +Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. +I do invest you jointly with my power, +Pre-eminence, and all the large effects +That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, +With reservation of an hundred knights, +By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode +Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain +The name, and all the additions to a king; +The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, +Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, +This coronet part betwixt you. + +Giving the crown + +KENT +Royal Lear, +Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, +Loved as my father, as my master follow'd, +As my great patron thought on in my prayers,-- + +KING LEAR +The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft. + +KENT +Let it fall rather, though the fork invade +The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, +When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man? +Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, +When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound, +When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; +And, in thy best consideration, cheque +This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment, +Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; +Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound +Reverbs no hollowness. + +KING LEAR +Kent, on thy life, no more. + +KENT +My life I never held but as a pawn +To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it, +Thy safety being the motive. + +KING LEAR +Out of my sight! + +KENT +See better, Lear; and let me still remain +The true blank of thine eye. + +KING LEAR +Now, by Apollo,-- + +KENT +Now, by Apollo, king, +Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. + +KING LEAR +O, vassal! miscreant! + +Laying his hand on his sword + +ALBANY CORNWALL +Dear sir, forbear. + +KENT +Do: +Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow +Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom; +Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, +I'll tell thee thou dost evil. + +KING LEAR +Hear me, recreant! +On thine allegiance, hear me! +Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow, +Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride +To come between our sentence and our power, +Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, +Our potency made good, take thy reward. +Five days we do allot thee, for provision +To shield thee from diseases of the world; +And on the sixth to turn thy hated back +Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following, +Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, +The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter, +This shall not be revoked. + +KENT +Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, +Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. + +To CORDELIA + +The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, +That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said! + +To REGAN and GONERIL + +And your large speeches may your deeds approve, +That good effects may spring from words of love. +Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; +He'll shape his old course in a country new. + +Exit + +Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants + +GLOUCESTER +Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. + +KING LEAR +My lord of Burgundy. +We first address towards you, who with this king +Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least, +Will you require in present dower with her, +Or cease your quest of love? + +BURGUNDY +Most royal majesty, +I crave no more than what your highness offer'd, +Nor will you tender less. + +KING LEAR +Right noble Burgundy, +When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; +But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands: +If aught within that little seeming substance, +Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, +And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, +She's there, and she is yours. + +BURGUNDY +I know no answer. + +KING LEAR +Will you, with those infirmities she owes, +Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, +Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath, +Take her, or leave her? + +BURGUNDY +Pardon me, royal sir; +Election makes not up on such conditions. + +KING LEAR +Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, +I tell you all her wealth. + +To KING OF FRANCE + +For you, great king, +I would not from your love make such a stray, +To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you +To avert your liking a more worthier way +Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed +Almost to acknowledge hers. + +KING OF FRANCE +This is most strange, +That she, that even but now was your best object, +The argument of your praise, balm of your age, +Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time +Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle +So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence +Must be of such unnatural degree, +That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection +Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her, +Must be a faith that reason without miracle +Could never plant in me. + +CORDELIA +I yet beseech your majesty,-- +If for I want that glib and oily art, +To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, +I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known +It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, +No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, +That hath deprived me of your grace and favour; +But even for want of that for which I am richer, +A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue +As I am glad I have not, though not to have it +Hath lost me in your liking. + +KING LEAR +Better thou +Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better. + +KING OF FRANCE +Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature +Which often leaves the history unspoke +That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, +What say you to the lady? Love's not love +When it is mingled with regards that stand +Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? +She is herself a dowry. + +BURGUNDY +Royal Lear, +Give but that portion which yourself proposed, +And here I take Cordelia by the hand, +Duchess of Burgundy. + +KING LEAR +Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. + +BURGUNDY +I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father +That you must lose a husband. + +CORDELIA +Peace be with Burgundy! +Since that respects of fortune are his love, +I shall not be his wife. + +KING OF FRANCE +Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; +Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! +Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: +Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. +Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect +My love should kindle to inflamed respect. +Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, +Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: +Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy +Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. +Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: +Thou losest here, a better where to find. + +KING LEAR +Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we +Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see +That face of hers again. Therefore be gone +Without our grace, our love, our benison. +Come, noble Burgundy. + +Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA + +KING OF FRANCE +Bid farewell to your sisters. + +CORDELIA +The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes +Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; +And like a sister am most loath to call +Your faults as they are named. Use well our father: +To your professed bosoms I commit him +But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, +I would prefer him to a better place. +So, farewell to you both. + +REGAN +Prescribe not us our duties. + +GONERIL +Let your study +Be to content your lord, who hath received you +At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, +And well are worth the want that you have wanted. + +CORDELIA +Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: +Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. +Well may you prosper! + +KING OF FRANCE +Come, my fair Cordelia. + +Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA + +GONERIL +Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what +most nearly appertains to us both. I think our +father will hence to-night. + +REGAN +That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. + +GONERIL +You see how full of changes his age is; the +observation we have made of it hath not been +little: he always loved our sister most; and +with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off +appears too grossly. + +REGAN +'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever +but slenderly known himself. + +GONERIL +The best and soundest of his time hath been but +rash; then must we look to receive from his age, +not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed +condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness +that infirm and choleric years bring with them. + +REGAN +Such unconstant starts are we like to have from +him as this of Kent's banishment. + +GONERIL +There is further compliment of leavetaking +between France and him. Pray you, let's hit +together: if our father carry authority with +such dispositions as he bears, this last +surrender of his will but offend us. + +REGAN +We shall further think on't. + +GONERIL +We must do something, and i' the heat. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, with a letter +EDMUND +Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law +My services are bound. Wherefore should I +Stand in the plague of custom, and permit +The curiosity of nations to deprive me, +For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines +Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? +When my dimensions are as well compact, +My mind as generous, and my shape as true, +As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us +With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? +Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take +More composition and fierce quality +Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, +Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, +Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then, +Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: +Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund +As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate! +Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, +And my invention thrive, Edmund the base +Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: +Now, gods, stand up for bastards! + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted! +And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! +Confined to exhibition! All this done +Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news? + +EDMUND +So please your lordship, none. + +Putting up the letter + +GLOUCESTER +Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? + +EDMUND +I know no news, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +What paper were you reading? + +EDMUND +Nothing, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of +it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath +not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come, +if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. + +EDMUND +I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter +from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; +and for so much as I have perused, I find it not +fit for your o'er-looking. + +GLOUCESTER +Give me the letter, sir. + +EDMUND +I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The +contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. + +GLOUCESTER +Let's see, let's see. + +EDMUND +I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote +this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'This policy and reverence of age makes +the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps +our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish +them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage +in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not +as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to +me, that of this I may speak more. If our father +would sleep till I waked him, you should half his +revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your +brother, EDGAR.' +Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you +should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar! +Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain +to breed it in?--When came this to you? who +brought it? + +EDMUND +It was not brought me, my lord; there's the +cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the +casement of my closet. + +GLOUCESTER +You know the character to be your brother's? + +EDMUND +If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear +it were his; but, in respect of that, I would +fain think it were not. + +GLOUCESTER +It is his. + +EDMUND +It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is +not in the contents. + +GLOUCESTER +Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business? + +EDMUND +Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft +maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, +and fathers declining, the father should be as +ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue. + +GLOUCESTER +O villain, villain! His very opinion in the +letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, +brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, +seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain! +Where is he? + +EDMUND +I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please +you to suspend your indignation against my +brother till you can derive from him better +testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain +course; where, if you violently proceed against +him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great +gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the +heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life +for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my +affection to your honour, and to no further +pretence of danger. + +GLOUCESTER +Think you so? + +EDMUND +If your honour judge it meet, I will place you +where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an +auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and +that without any further delay than this very evening. + +GLOUCESTER +He cannot be such a monster-- + +EDMUND +Nor is not, sure. + +GLOUCESTER +To his father, that so tenderly and entirely +loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him +out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the +business after your own wisdom. I would unstate +myself, to be in a due resolution. + +EDMUND +I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the +business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal. + +GLOUCESTER +These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend +no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can +reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself +scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, +friendship falls off, brothers divide: in +cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in +palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son +and father. This villain of mine comes under the +prediction; there's son against father: the king +falls from bias of nature; there's father against +child. We have seen the best of our time: +machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all +ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our +graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall +lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the +noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his +offence, honesty! 'Tis strange. + +Exit + +EDMUND +This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, +when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit +of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our +disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as +if we were villains by necessity; fools by +heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and +treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, +liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of +planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, +by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion +of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish +disposition to the charge of a star! My +father compounded with my mother under the +dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa +major; so that it follows, I am rough and +lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, +had the maidenliest star in the firmament +twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar-- + +Enter EDGAR + +And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old +comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a +sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do +portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi. + +EDGAR +How now, brother Edmund! what serious +contemplation are you in? + +EDMUND +I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read +this other day, what should follow these eclipses. + +EDGAR +Do you busy yourself about that? + +EDMUND +I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed +unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child +and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of +ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and +maledictions against king and nobles; needless +diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation +of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. + +EDGAR +How long have you been a sectary astronomical? + +EDMUND +Come, come; when saw you my father last? + +EDGAR +Why, the night gone by. + +EDMUND +Spake you with him? + +EDGAR +Ay, two hours together. + +EDMUND +Parted you in good terms? Found you no +displeasure in him by word or countenance? + +EDGAR +None at all. + +EDMUND +Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended +him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence +till some little time hath qualified the heat of +his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth +in him, that with the mischief of your person it +would scarcely allay. + +EDGAR +Some villain hath done me wrong. + +EDMUND +That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent +forbearance till the spied of his rage goes +slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my +lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to +hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key: +if you do stir abroad, go armed. + +EDGAR +Armed, brother! + +EDMUND +Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I +am no honest man if there be any good meaning +towards you: I have told you what I have seen +and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image +and horror of it: pray you, away. + +EDGAR +Shall I hear from you anon? + +EDMUND +I do serve you in this business. + +Exit EDGAR + +A credulous father! and a brother noble, +Whose nature is so far from doing harms, +That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty +My practises ride easy! I see the business. +Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: +All with me's meet that I can fashion fit. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace. + +Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward +GONERIL +Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +By day and night he wrongs me; every hour +He flashes into one gross crime or other, +That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it: +His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us +On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, +I will not speak with him; say I am sick: +If you come slack of former services, +You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. + +OSWALD +He's coming, madam; I hear him. + +Horns within + +GONERIL +Put on what weary negligence you please, +You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question: +If he dislike it, let him to our sister, +Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, +Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man, +That still would manage those authorities +That he hath given away! Now, by my life, +Old fools are babes again; and must be used +With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused. +Remember what I tell you. + +OSWALD +Well, madam. + +GONERIL +And let his knights have colder looks among you; +What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: +I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, +That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister, +To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in the same. + +Enter KENT, disguised +KENT +If but as well I other accents borrow, +That can my speech defuse, my good intent +May carry through itself to that full issue +For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent, +If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd, +So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest, +Shall find thee full of labours. + +Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. + +Exit an Attendant + +How now! what art thou? + +KENT +A man, sir. + +KING LEAR +What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us? + +KENT +I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve +him truly that will put me in trust: to love him +that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, +and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I +cannot choose; and to eat no fish. + +KING LEAR +What art thou? + +KENT +A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. + +KING LEAR +If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a +king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? + +KENT +Service. + +KING LEAR +Who wouldst thou serve? + +KENT +You. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou know me, fellow? + +KENT +No, sir; but you have that in your countenance +which I would fain call master. + +KING LEAR +What's that? + +KENT +Authority. + +KING LEAR +What services canst thou do? + +KENT +I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious +tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message +bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am +qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. + +KING LEAR +How old art thou? + +KENT +Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor +so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years +on my back forty eight. + +KING LEAR +Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no +worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. +Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? +Go you, and call my fool hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +Enter OSWALD + +You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? + +OSWALD +So please you,-- + +Exit + +KING LEAR +What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. + +Exit a Knight + +Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep. + +Re-enter Knight + +How now! where's that mongrel? + +Knight +He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. + +KING LEAR +Why came not the slave back to me when I called him. + +Knight +Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would +not. + +KING LEAR +He would not! + +Knight +My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my +judgment, your highness is not entertained with that +ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a +great abatement of kindness appears as well in the +general dependants as in the duke himself also and +your daughter. + +KING LEAR +Ha! sayest thou so? + +Knight +I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; +for my duty cannot be silent when I think your +highness wronged. + +KING LEAR +Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I +have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I +have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity +than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: +I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I +have not seen him this two days. + +Knight +Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the +fool hath much pined away. + +KING LEAR +No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and +tell my daughter I would speak with her. + +Exit an Attendant + +Go you, call hither my fool. + +Exit an Attendant + +Re-enter OSWALD + +O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, +sir? + +OSWALD +My lady's father. + +KING LEAR +'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your +whoreson dog! you slave! you cur! + +OSWALD +I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon. + +KING LEAR +Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? + +Striking him + +OSWALD +I'll not be struck, my lord. + +KENT +Nor tripped neither, you base football player. + +Tripping up his heels + +KING LEAR +I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll +love thee. + +KENT +Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: +away, away! if you will measure your lubber's +length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you +wisdom? so. + +Pushes OSWALD out + +KING LEAR +Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's +earnest of thy service. + +Giving KENT money + +Enter Fool + +Fool +Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb. + +Offering KENT his cap + +KING LEAR +How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou? + +Fool +Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. + +KENT +Why, fool? + +Fool +Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour: +nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, +thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: +why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters, +and did the third a blessing against his will; if +thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. +How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters! + +KING LEAR +Why, my boy? + +Fool +If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs +myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters. + +KING LEAR +Take heed, sirrah; the whip. + +Fool +Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped +out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink. + +KING LEAR +A pestilent gall to me! + +Fool +Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. + +KING LEAR +Do. + +Fool +Mark it, nuncle: +Have more than thou showest, +Speak less than thou knowest, +Lend less than thou owest, +Ride more than thou goest, +Learn more than thou trowest, +Set less than thou throwest; +Leave thy drink and thy whore, +And keep in-a-door, +And thou shalt have more +Than two tens to a score. + +KENT +This is nothing, fool. + +Fool +Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you +gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of +nothing, nuncle? + +KING LEAR +Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing. + +Fool +[To KENT] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of +his land comes to: he will not believe a fool. + +KING LEAR +A bitter fool! + +Fool +Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a +bitter fool and a sweet fool? + +KING LEAR +No, lad; teach me. + +Fool +That lord that counsell'd thee +To give away thy land, +Come place him here by me, +Do thou for him stand: +The sweet and bitter fool +Will presently appear; +The one in motley here, +The other found out there. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou call me fool, boy? + +Fool +All thy other titles thou hast given away; that +thou wast born with. + +KENT +This is not altogether fool, my lord. + +Fool +No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if +I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: +and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool +to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg, +nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns. + +KING LEAR +What two crowns shall they be? + +Fool +Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat +up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou +clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away +both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er +the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, +when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak +like myself in this, let him be whipped that first +finds it so. + +Singing + +Fools had ne'er less wit in a year; +For wise men are grown foppish, +They know not how their wits to wear, +Their manners are so apish. + +KING LEAR +When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? + +Fool +I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy +daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them +the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches, + +Singing + +Then they for sudden joy did weep, +And I for sorrow sung, +That such a king should play bo-peep, +And go the fools among. +Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach +thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie. + +KING LEAR +An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. + +Fool +I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: +they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt +have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am +whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any +kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be +thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, +and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o' +the parings. + +Enter GONERIL + +KING LEAR +How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? +Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown. + +Fool +Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to +care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a +figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, +thou art nothing. + +To GONERIL + +Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face +bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, +He that keeps nor crust nor crum, +Weary of all, shall want some. + +Pointing to KING LEAR + +That's a shealed peascod. + +GONERIL +Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, +But other of your insolent retinue +Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth +In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir, +I had thought, by making this well known unto you, +To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful, +By what yourself too late have spoke and done. +That you protect this course, and put it on +By your allowance; which if you should, the fault +Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, +Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, +Might in their working do you that offence, +Which else were shame, that then necessity +Will call discreet proceeding. + +Fool +For, you trow, nuncle, +The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, +That it's had it head bit off by it young. +So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling. + +KING LEAR +Are you our daughter? + +GONERIL +Come, sir, +I would you would make use of that good wisdom, +Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away +These dispositions, that of late transform you +From what you rightly are. + +Fool +May not an ass know when the cart +draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee. + +KING LEAR +Doth any here know me? This is not Lear: +Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes? +Either his notion weakens, his discernings +Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so. +Who is it that can tell me who I am? + +Fool +Lear's shadow. + +KING LEAR +I would learn that; for, by the +marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, +I should be false persuaded I had daughters. + +Fool +Which they will make an obedient father. + +KING LEAR +Your name, fair gentlewoman? + +GONERIL +This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour +Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you +To understand my purposes aright: +As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. +Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; +Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold, +That this our court, infected with their manners, +Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust +Make it more like a tavern or a brothel +Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak +For instant remedy: be then desired +By her, that else will take the thing she begs, +A little to disquantity your train; +And the remainder, that shall still depend, +To be such men as may besort your age, +And know themselves and you. + +KING LEAR +Darkness and devils! +Saddle my horses; call my train together: +Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee. +Yet have I left a daughter. + +GONERIL +You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble +Make servants of their betters. + +Enter ALBANY + +KING LEAR +Woe, that too late repents,-- + +To ALBANY + +O, sir, are you come? +Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses. +Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, +More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child +Than the sea-monster! + +ALBANY +Pray, sir, be patient. + +KING LEAR +[To GONERIL] Detested kite! thou liest. +My train are men of choice and rarest parts, +That all particulars of duty know, +And in the most exact regard support +The worships of their name. O most small fault, +How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! +That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature +From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love, +And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! +Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, + +Striking his head + +And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people. + +ALBANY +My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant +Of what hath moved you. + +KING LEAR +It may be so, my lord. +Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! +Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend +To make this creature fruitful! +Into her womb convey sterility! +Dry up in her the organs of increase; +And from her derogate body never spring +A babe to honour her! If she must teem, +Create her child of spleen; that it may live, +And be a thwart disnatured torment to her! +Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; +With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; +Turn all her mother's pains and benefits +To laughter and contempt; that she may feel +How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is +To have a thankless child! Away, away! + +Exit + +ALBANY +Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? + +GONERIL +Never afflict yourself to know the cause; +But let his disposition have that scope +That dotage gives it. + +Re-enter KING LEAR + +KING LEAR +What, fifty of my followers at a clap! +Within a fortnight! + +ALBANY +What's the matter, sir? + +KING LEAR +I'll tell thee: + +To GONERIL + +Life and death! I am ashamed +That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; +That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, +Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! +The untented woundings of a father's curse +Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, +Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out, +And cast you, with the waters that you lose, +To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this? +Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter, +Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: +When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails +She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find +That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think +I have cast off for ever: thou shalt, +I warrant thee. + +Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants + +GONERIL +Do you mark that, my lord? + +ALBANY +I cannot be so partial, Goneril, +To the great love I bear you,-- + +GONERIL +Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho! + +To the Fool + +You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. + +Fool +Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool +with thee. +A fox, when one has caught her, +And such a daughter, +Should sure to the slaughter, +If my cap would buy a halter: +So the fool follows after. + +Exit + +GONERIL +This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights! +'Tis politic and safe to let him keep +At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream, +Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, +He may enguard his dotage with their powers, +And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say! + +ALBANY +Well, you may fear too far. + +GONERIL +Safer than trust too far: +Let me still take away the harms I fear, +Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. +What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister +If she sustain him and his hundred knights +When I have show'd the unfitness,-- + +Re-enter OSWALD + +How now, Oswald! +What, have you writ that letter to my sister? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +Take you some company, and away to horse: +Inform her full of my particular fear; +And thereto add such reasons of your own +As may compact it more. Get you gone; +And hasten your return. + +Exit OSWALD + +No, no, my lord, +This milky gentleness and course of yours +Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, +You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom +Than praised for harmful mildness. + +ALBANY +How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell: +Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. + +GONERIL +Nay, then-- + +ALBANY +Well, well; the event. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Court before the same. + +Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool +KING LEAR +Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. +Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you +know than comes from her demand out of the letter. +If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you. + +KENT +I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered +your letter. + +Exit + +Fool +If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in +danger of kibes? + +KING LEAR +Ay, boy. + +Fool +Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go +slip-shod. + +KING LEAR +Ha, ha, ha! + +Fool +Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; +for though she's as like this as a crab's like an +apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. + +KING LEAR +Why, what canst thou tell, my boy? + +Fool +She will taste as like this as a crab does to a +crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' +the middle on's face? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that +what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. + +KING LEAR +I did her wrong-- + +Fool +Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house. + +KING LEAR +Why? + +Fool +Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his +daughters, and leave his horns without a case. + +KING LEAR +I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my +horses ready? + +Fool +Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the +seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason. + +KING LEAR +Because they are not eight? + +Fool +Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool. + +KING LEAR +To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude! + +Fool +If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten +for being old before thy time. + +KING LEAR +How's that? + +Fool +Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst +been wise. + +KING LEAR +O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven +Keep me in temper: I would not be mad! + +Enter Gentleman + +How now! are the horses ready? + +Gentleman +Ready, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Come, boy. + +Fool +She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure, +Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. GLOUCESTER's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him +EDMUND +Save thee, Curan. + +CURAN +And you, sir. I have been with your father, and +given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan +his duchess will be here with him this night. + +EDMUND +How comes that? + +CURAN +Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; +I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but +ear-kissing arguments? + +EDMUND +Not I pray you, what are they? + +CURAN +Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the +Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? + +EDMUND +Not a word. + +CURAN +You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. + +Exit + +EDMUND +The duke be here to-night? The better! best! +This weaves itself perforce into my business. +My father hath set guard to take my brother; +And I have one thing, of a queasy question, +Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work! +Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say! + +Enter EDGAR + +My father watches: O sir, fly this place; +Intelligence is given where you are hid; +You have now the good advantage of the night: +Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? +He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste, +And Regan with him: have you nothing said +Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? +Advise yourself. + +EDGAR +I am sure on't, not a word. + +EDMUND +I hear my father coming: pardon me: +In cunning I must draw my sword upon you +Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. +Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! +Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell. + +Exit EDGAR + +Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion. + +Wounds his arm + +Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards +Do more than this in sport. Father, father! +Stop, stop! No help? + +Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches + +GLOUCESTER +Now, Edmund, where's the villain? + +EDMUND +Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, +Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon +To stand auspicious mistress,-- + +GLOUCESTER +But where is he? + +EDMUND +Look, sir, I bleed. + +GLOUCESTER +Where is the villain, Edmund? + +EDMUND +Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could-- + +GLOUCESTER +Pursue him, ho! Go after. + +Exeunt some Servants + +By no means what? + +EDMUND +Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; +But that I told him, the revenging gods +'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; +Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond +The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, +Seeing how loathly opposite I stood +To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, +With his prepared sword, he charges home +My unprovided body, lanced mine arm: +But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, +Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter, +Or whether gasted by the noise I made, +Full suddenly he fled. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him fly far: +Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; +And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master, +My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: +By his authority I will proclaim it, +That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, +Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; +He that conceals him, death. + +EDMUND +When I dissuaded him from his intent, +And found him pight to do it, with curst speech +I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, +'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, +If I would stand against thee, would the reposal +Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee +Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,-- +As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce +My very character,--I'ld turn it all +To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise: +And thou must make a dullard of the world, +If they not thought the profits of my death +Were very pregnant and potential spurs +To make thee seek it.' + +GLOUCESTER +Strong and fasten'd villain +Would he deny his letter? I never got him. + +Tucket within + +Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. +All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; +The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture +I will send far and near, that all the kingdom +May have the due note of him; and of my land, +Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means +To make thee capable. + +Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants + +CORNWALL +How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, +Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. + +REGAN +If it be true, all vengeance comes too short +Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd! + +REGAN +What, did my father's godson seek your life? +He whom my father named? your Edgar? + +GLOUCESTER +O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! + +REGAN +Was he not companion with the riotous knights +That tend upon my father? + +GLOUCESTER +I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad. + +EDMUND +Yes, madam, he was of that consort. + +REGAN +No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: +'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, +To have the expense and waste of his revenues. +I have this present evening from my sister +Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, +That if they come to sojourn at my house, +I'll not be there. + +CORNWALL +Nor I, assure thee, Regan. +Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father +A child-like office. + +EDMUND +'Twas my duty, sir. + +GLOUCESTER +He did bewray his practise; and received +This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. + +CORNWALL +Is he pursued? + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my good lord. + +CORNWALL +If he be taken, he shall never more +Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, +How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, +Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant +So much commend itself, you shall be ours: +Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; +You we first seize on. + +EDMUND +I shall serve you, sir, +Truly, however else. + +GLOUCESTER +For him I thank your grace. + +CORNWALL +You know not why we came to visit you,-- + +REGAN +Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night: +Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, +Wherein we must have use of your advice: +Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, +Of differences, which I least thought it fit +To answer from our home; the several messengers +From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, +Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow +Your needful counsel to our business, +Which craves the instant use. + +GLOUCESTER +I serve you, madam: +Your graces are right welcome. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before Gloucester's castle. + +Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally +OSWALD +Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? + +KENT +Ay. + +OSWALD +Where may we set our horses? + +KENT +I' the mire. + +OSWALD +Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. + +KENT +I love thee not. + +OSWALD +Why, then, I care not for thee. + +KENT +If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee +care for me. + +OSWALD +Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. + +KENT +Fellow, I know thee. + +OSWALD +What dost thou know me for? + +KENT +A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a +base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, +hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a +lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, +glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; +one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a +bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but +the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, +and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I +will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest +the least syllable of thy addition. + +The Tragedy of Macbeth +Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A desert place. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches +First Witch +When shall we three meet again +In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + +Second Witch +When the hurlyburly's done, +When the battle's lost and won. + +Third Witch +That will be ere the set of sun. + +First Witch +Where the place? + +Second Witch +Upon the heath. + +Third Witch +There to meet with Macbeth. + +First Witch +I come, Graymalkin! + +Second Witch +Paddock calls. + +Third Witch +Anon. + +ALL +Fair is foul, and foul is fair: +Hover through the fog and filthy air. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A camp near Forres. + +Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant +DUNCAN +What bloody man is that? He can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt +The newest state. + +MALCOLM +This is the sergeant +Who like a good and hardy soldier fought +'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! +Say to the king the knowledge of the broil +As thou didst leave it. + +Sergeant +Doubtful it stood; +As two spent swimmers, that do cling together +And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- +Worthy to be a rebel, for to that +The multiplying villanies of nature +Do swarm upon him--from the western isles +Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; +And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, +Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: +For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- +Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, +Which smoked with bloody execution, +Like valour's minion carved out his passage +Till he faced the slave; +Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, +Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, +And fix'd his head upon our battlements. + +DUNCAN +O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! + +Sergeant +As whence the sun 'gins his reflection +Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, +So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come +Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: +No sooner justice had with valour arm'd +Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, +But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, +With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men +Began a fresh assault. + +DUNCAN +Dismay'd not this +Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? + +Sergeant +Yes; +As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they +Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: +Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, +Or memorise another Golgotha, +I cannot tell. +But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. + +DUNCAN +So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; +They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. + +Exit Sergeant, attended + +Who comes here? + +Enter ROSS + +MALCOLM +The worthy thane of Ross. + +LENNOX +What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look +That seems to speak things strange. + +ROSS +God save the king! + +DUNCAN +Whence camest thou, worthy thane? + +ROSS +From Fife, great king; +Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky +And fan our people cold. Norway himself, +With terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyal traitor +The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; +Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, +Confronted him with self-comparisons, +Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. +Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, +The victory fell on us. + +DUNCAN +Great happiness! + +ROSS +That now +Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: +Nor would we deign him burial of his men +Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch +Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + +DUNCAN +No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive +Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, +And with his former title greet Macbeth. + +ROSS +I'll see it done. + +DUNCAN +What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A heath near Forres. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Where hast thou been, sister? + +Second Witch +Killing swine. + +Third Witch +Sister, where thou? + +First Witch +A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, +And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- +'Give me,' quoth I: +'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. +Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: +But in a sieve I'll thither sail, +And, like a rat without a tail, +I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + +Second Witch +I'll give thee a wind. + +First Witch +Thou'rt kind. + +Third Witch +And I another. + +First Witch +I myself have all the other, +And the very ports they blow, +All the quarters that they know +I' the shipman's card. +I will drain him dry as hay: +Sleep shall neither night nor day +Hang upon his pent-house lid; +He shall live a man forbid: +Weary se'nnights nine times nine +Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: +Though his bark cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be tempest-tost. +Look what I have. + +Second Witch +Show me, show me. + +First Witch +Here I have a pilot's thumb, +Wreck'd as homeward he did come. + +Drum within + +Third Witch +A drum, a drum! +Macbeth doth come. + +ALL +The weird sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the sea and land, +Thus do go about, about: +Thrice to thine and thrice to mine +And thrice again, to make up nine. +Peace! the charm's wound up. + +Enter MACBETH and BANQUO + +MACBETH +So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + +BANQUO +How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these +So wither'd and so wild in their attire, +That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, +And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught +That man may question? You seem to understand me, +By each at once her chappy finger laying +Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, +And yet your beards forbid me to interpret +That you are so. + +MACBETH +Speak, if you can: what are you? + +First Witch +All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! + +Second Witch +All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! + +Third Witch +All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! + +BANQUO +Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear +Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, +Are ye fantastical, or that indeed +Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner +You greet with present grace and great prediction +Of noble having and of royal hope, +That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. +If you can look into the seeds of time, +And say which grain will grow and which will not, +Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear +Your favours nor your hate. + +First Witch +Hail! + +Second Witch +Hail! + +Third Witch +Hail! + +First Witch +Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. + +Second Witch +Not so happy, yet much happier. + +Third Witch +Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: +So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + +First Witch +Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + +MACBETH +Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: +By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; +But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, +A prosperous gentleman; and to be king +Stands not within the prospect of belief, +No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange intelligence? or why +Upon this blasted heath you stop our way +With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. + +Witches vanish + +BANQUO +The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, +And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? + +MACBETH +Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted +As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! + +BANQUO +Were such things here as we do speak about? +Or have we eaten on the insane root +That takes the reason prisoner? + +MACBETH +Your children shall be kings. + +BANQUO +You shall be king. + +MACBETH +And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + +BANQUO +To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? + +Enter ROSS and ANGUS + +ROSS +The king hath happily received, Macbeth, +The news of thy success; and when he reads +Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, +His wonders and his praises do contend +Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, +In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, +He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, +Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, +Strange images of death. As thick as hail +Came post with post; and every one did bear +Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, +And pour'd them down before him. + +ANGUS +We are sent +To give thee from our royal master thanks; +Only to herald thee into his sight, +Not pay thee. + +ROSS +And, for an earnest of a greater honour, +He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: +In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! +For it is thine. + +BANQUO +What, can the devil speak true? + +MACBETH +The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me +In borrow'd robes? + +ANGUS +Who was the thane lives yet; +But under heavy judgment bears that life +Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined +With those of Norway, or did line the rebel +With hidden help and vantage, or that with both +He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; +But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, +Have overthrown him. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! +The greatest is behind. + +To ROSS and ANGUS + +Thanks for your pains. + +To BANQUO + +Do you not hope your children shall be kings, +When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me +Promised no less to them? + +BANQUO +That trusted home +Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, +Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: +And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, +The instruments of darkness tell us truths, +Win us with honest trifles, to betray's +In deepest consequence. +Cousins, a word, I pray you. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Two truths are told, +As happy prologues to the swelling act +Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. + +Aside + +Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, +Why hath it given me earnest of success, +Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: +If good, why do I yield to that suggestion +Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair +And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, +Against the use of nature? Present fears +Are less than horrible imaginings: +My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, +Shakes so my single state of man that function +Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is +But what is not. + +BANQUO +Look, how our partner's rapt. + +MACBETH +[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, +Without my stir. + +BANQUO +New horrors come upon him, +Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould +But with the aid of use. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Come what come may, +Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + +BANQUO +Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + +MACBETH +Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought +With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains +Are register'd where every day I turn +The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. +Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, +The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak +Our free hearts each to other. + +BANQUO +Very gladly. + +MACBETH +Till then, enough. Come, friends. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants +DUNCAN +Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not +Those in commission yet return'd? + +MALCOLM +My liege, +They are not yet come back. But I have spoke +With one that saw him die: who did report +That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, +Implored your highness' pardon and set forth +A deep repentance: nothing in his life +Became him like the leaving it; he died +As one that had been studied in his death +To throw away the dearest thing he owed, +As 'twere a careless trifle. + +DUNCAN +There's no art +To find the mind's construction in the face: +He was a gentleman on whom I built +An absolute trust. + +Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS + +O worthiest cousin! +The sin of my ingratitude even now +Was heavy on me: thou art so far before +That swiftest wing of recompense is slow +To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, +That the proportion both of thanks and payment +Might have been mine! only I have left to say, +More is thy due than more than all can pay. + +MACBETH +The service and the loyalty I owe, +In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part +Is to receive our duties; and our duties +Are to your throne and state children and servants, +Which do but what they should, by doing every thing +Safe toward your love and honour. + +DUNCAN +Welcome hither: +I have begun to plant thee, and will labour +To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, +That hast no less deserved, nor must be known +No less to have done so, let me enfold thee +And hold thee to my heart. + +BANQUO +There if I grow, +The harvest is your own. + +DUNCAN +My plenteous joys, +Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves +In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know +We will establish our estate upon +Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter +The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must +Not unaccompanied invest him only, +But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine +On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, +And bind us further to you. + +MACBETH +The rest is labour, which is not used for you: +I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful +The hearing of my wife with your approach; +So humbly take my leave. + +DUNCAN +My worthy Cawdor! + +MACBETH +[Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step +On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, +For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; +Let not light see my black and deep desires: +The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, +Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. + +Exit + +DUNCAN +True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, +And in his commendations I am fed; +It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, +Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: +It is a peerless kinsman. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. + +Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter +LADY MACBETH +'They met me in the day of success: and I have +learned by the perfectest report, they have more in +them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire +to question them further, they made themselves air, +into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in +the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who +all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, +before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred +me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that +shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver +thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou +mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being +ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it +to thy heart, and farewell.' +Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be +What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; +It is too full o' the milk of human kindness +To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; +Art not without ambition, but without +The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, +That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, +And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, +That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; +And that which rather thou dost fear to do +Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, +That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; +And chastise with the valour of my tongue +All that impedes thee from the golden round, +Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem +To have thee crown'd withal. + +Enter a Messenger + +What is your tidings? + +Messenger +The king comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Thou'rt mad to say it: +Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, +Would have inform'd for preparation. + +Messenger +So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: +One of my fellows had the speed of him, +Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Than would make up his message. + +LADY MACBETH +Give him tending; +He brings great news. + +Exit Messenger + +The raven himself is hoarse +That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan +Under my battlements. Come, you spirits +That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, +And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full +Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; +Stop up the access and passage to remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between +The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, +And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, +Wherever in your sightless substances +You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, +That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, +Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, +To cry 'Hold, hold!' + +Enter MACBETH + +Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! +Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! +Thy letters have transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feel now +The future in the instant. + +MACBETH +My dearest love, +Duncan comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +And when goes hence? + +MACBETH +To-morrow, as he purposes. + +LADY MACBETH +O, never +Shall sun that morrow see! +Your face, my thane, is as a book where men +May read strange matters. To beguile the time, +Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, +Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, +But be the serpent under't. He that's coming +Must be provided for: and you shall put +This night's great business into my dispatch; +Which shall to all our nights and days to come +Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. + +MACBETH +We will speak further. + +LADY MACBETH +Only look up clear; +To alter favour ever is to fear: +Leave all the rest to me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants +DUNCAN +This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air +Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself +Unto our gentle senses. + +BANQUO +This guest of summer, +The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, +By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath +Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, +Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird +Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: +Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, +The air is delicate. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +DUNCAN +See, see, our honour'd hostess! +The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you +How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, +And thank us for your trouble. + +LADY MACBETH +All our service +In every point twice done and then done double +Were poor and single business to contend +Against those honours deep and broad wherewith +Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, +And the late dignities heap'd up to them, +We rest your hermits. + +DUNCAN +Where's the thane of Cawdor? +We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose +To be his purveyor: but he rides well; +And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him +To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, +We are your guest to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Your servants ever +Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, +To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, +Still to return your own. + +DUNCAN +Give me your hand; +Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, +And shall continue our graces towards him. +By your leave, hostess. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH +MACBETH +If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well +It were done quickly: if the assassination +Could trammel up the consequence, and catch +With his surcease success; that but this blow +Might be the be-all and the end-all here, +But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, +We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases +We still have judgment here; that we but teach +Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return +To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice +Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice +To our own lips. He's here in double trust; +First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, +Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, +Who should against his murderer shut the door, +Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been +So clear in his great office, that his virtues +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against +The deep damnation of his taking-off; +And pity, like a naked new-born babe, +Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed +Upon the sightless couriers of the air, +Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, +That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur +To prick the sides of my intent, but only +Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself +And falls on the other. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +How now! what news? + +LADY MACBETH +He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + +MACBETH +Hath he ask'd for me? + +LADY MACBETH +Know you not he has? + +MACBETH +We will proceed no further in this business: +He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought +Golden opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, +Not cast aside so soon. + +LADY MACBETH +Was the hope drunk +Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? +And wakes it now, to look so green and pale +At what it did so freely? From this time +Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard +To be the same in thine own act and valour +As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that +Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, +And live a coward in thine own esteem, +Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' +Like the poor cat i' the adage? + +MACBETH +Prithee, peace: +I dare do all that may become a man; +Who dares do more is none. + +LADY MACBETH +What beast was't, then, +That made you break this enterprise to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man; +And, to be more than what you were, you would +Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place +Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: +They have made themselves, and that their fitness now +Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know +How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: +I would, while it was smiling in my face, +Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, +And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you +Have done to this. + +MACBETH +If we should fail? + +LADY MACBETH +We fail! +But screw your courage to the sticking-place, +And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-- +Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey +Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains +Will I with wine and wassail so convince +That memory, the warder of the brain, +Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason +A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep +Their drenched natures lie as in a death, +What cannot you and I perform upon +The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon +His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt +Of our great quell? + +MACBETH +Bring forth men-children only; +For thy undaunted mettle should compose +Nothing but males. Will it not be received, +When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two +Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, +That they have done't? + +LADY MACBETH +Who dares receive it other, +As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar +Upon his death? + +MACBETH +I am settled, and bend up +Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show: +False face must hide what the false heart doth know. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him +BANQUO +How goes the night, boy? + +FLEANCE +The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. + +BANQUO +And she goes down at twelve. + +FLEANCE +I take't, 'tis later, sir. + +BANQUO +Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; +Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. +A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, +And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, +Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature +Gives way to in repose! + +Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch + +Give me my sword. +Who's there? + +MACBETH +A friend. + +BANQUO +What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: +He hath been in unusual pleasure, and +Sent forth great largess to your offices. +This diamond he greets your wife withal, +By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up +In measureless content. + +MACBETH +Being unprepared, +Our will became the servant to defect; +Which else should free have wrought. + +BANQUO +All's well. +I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: +To you they have show'd some truth. + +MACBETH +I think not of them: +Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, +We would spend it in some words upon that business, +If you would grant the time. + +BANQUO +At your kind'st leisure. + +MACBETH +If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, +It shall make honour for you. + +BANQUO +So I lose none +In seeking to augment it, but still keep +My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, +I shall be counsell'd. + +MACBETH +Good repose the while! + +BANQUO +Thanks, sir: the like to you! + +Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE + +MACBETH +Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, +She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. + +Exit Servant + +Is this a dagger which I see before me, +The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. +I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible +To feeling as to sight? or art thou but +A dagger of the mind, a false creation, +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? +I see thee yet, in form as palpable +As this which now I draw. +Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; +And such an instrument I was to use. +Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, +Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, +And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, +Which was not so before. There's no such thing: +It is the bloody business which informs +Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld +Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse +The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates +Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, +Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, +Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. +With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design +Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, +Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear +Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: +Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. + +A bell rings + +I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. +Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell +That summons thee to heaven or to hell. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter LADY MACBETH +LADY MACBETH +That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; +What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. +Hark! Peace! +It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, +Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: +The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms +Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd +their possets, +That death and nature do contend about them, +Whether they live or die. + +MACBETH +[Within] Who's there? what, ho! + +LADY MACBETH +Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, +And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed +Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; +He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled +My father as he slept, I had done't. + +Enter MACBETH + +My husband! + +MACBETH +I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + +LADY MACBETH +I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. +Did not you speak? + +MACBETH +When? + +LADY MACBETH +Now. + +MACBETH +As I descended? + +LADY MACBETH +Ay. + +MACBETH +Hark! +Who lies i' the second chamber? + +LADY MACBETH +Donalbain. + +MACBETH +This is a sorry sight. + +Looking on his hands + +LADY MACBETH +A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + +MACBETH +There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried +'Murder!' +That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: +But they did say their prayers, and address'd them +Again to sleep. + +LADY MACBETH +There are two lodged together. + +MACBETH +One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; +As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. +Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' +When they did say 'God bless us!' + +LADY MACBETH +Consider it not so deeply. + +MACBETH +But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? +I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' +Stuck in my throat. + +LADY MACBETH +These deeds must not be thought +After these ways; so, it will make us mad. + +MACBETH +Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! +Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, +Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, +The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, +Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, +Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- + +LADY MACBETH +What do you mean? + +MACBETH +Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: +'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor +Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' + +LADY MACBETH +Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, +You do unbend your noble strength, to think +So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, +And wash this filthy witness from your hand. +Why did you bring these daggers from the place? +They must lie there: go carry them; and smear +The sleepy grooms with blood. + +MACBETH +I'll go no more: +I am afraid to think what I have done; +Look on't again I dare not. + +LADY MACBETH +Infirm of purpose! +Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead +Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood +That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, +I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; +For it must seem their guilt. + +Exit. Knocking within + +MACBETH +Whence is that knocking? +How is't with me, when every noise appals me? +What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes. +Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood +Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather +The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, +Making the green one red. + +Re-enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +My hands are of your colour; but I shame +To wear a heart so white. + +Knocking within + +I hear a knocking +At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; +A little water clears us of this deed: +How easy is it, then! Your constancy +Hath left you unattended. + +Knocking within + +Hark! more knocking. +Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, +And show us to be watchers. Be not lost +So poorly in your thoughts. + +MACBETH +To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. + +Knocking within + +Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. + +Knocking within. Enter a Porter +Porter +Here's a knocking indeed! If a +man were porter of hell-gate, he should have +old turning the key. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of +Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged +himself on the expectation of plenty: come in +time; have napkins enow about you; here +you'll sweat for't. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock! Who's there, in the other devil's +name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could +swear in both the scales against either scale; +who committed treason enough for God's sake, +yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come +in, equivocator. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an +English tailor come hither, for stealing out of +a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may +roast your goose. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock; never at quiet! What are you? But +this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter +it no further: I had thought to have let in +some of all professions that go the primrose +way to the everlasting bonfire. + +Knocking within + +Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. + +Opens the gate + +Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX + +MACDUFF +Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, +That you do lie so late? + +Porter +'Faith sir, we were carousing till the +second cock: and drink, sir, is a great +provoker of three things. + +MACDUFF +What three things does drink especially provoke? + +Porter +Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and +urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; +it provokes the desire, but it takes +away the performance: therefore, much drink +may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: +it makes him, and it mars him; it sets +him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, +and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and +not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him +in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. + +MACDUFF +I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. + +Porter +That it did, sir, i' the very throat on +me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I +think, being too strong for him, though he took +up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast +him. + +MACDUFF +Is thy master stirring? + +Enter MACBETH + +Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. + +LENNOX +Good morrow, noble sir. + +MACBETH +Good morrow, both. + +MACDUFF +Is the king stirring, worthy thane? + +MACBETH +Not yet. + +MACDUFF +He did command me to call timely on him: +I have almost slipp'd the hour. + +MACBETH +I'll bring you to him. + +MACDUFF +I know this is a joyful trouble to you; +But yet 'tis one. + +MACBETH +The labour we delight in physics pain. +This is the door. + +MACDUFF +I'll make so bold to call, +For 'tis my limited service. + +Exit + +LENNOX +Goes the king hence to-day? + +MACBETH +He does: he did appoint so. + +LENNOX +The night has been unruly: where we lay, +Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, +Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, +And prophesying with accents terrible +Of dire combustion and confused events +New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird +Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth +Was feverous and did shake. + +MACBETH +'Twas a rough night. + +LENNOX +My young remembrance cannot parallel +A fellow to it. + +Re-enter MACDUFF + +MACDUFF +O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart +Cannot conceive nor name thee! + +MACBETH LENNOX +What's the matter. + +MACDUFF +Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! +Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope +The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence +The life o' the building! + +MACBETH +What is 't you say? the life? + +LENNOX +Mean you his majesty? + +MACDUFF +Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; +See, and then speak yourselves. + +Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX + +Awake, awake! +Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! +Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! +Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, +And look on death itself! up, up, and see +The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! +As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, +To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. + +Bell rings + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +What's the business, +That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! + +MACDUFF +O gentle lady, +'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: +The repetition, in a woman's ear, +Would murder as it fell. + +Enter BANQUO + +O Banquo, Banquo, +Our royal master 's murder'd! + +LADY MACBETH +Woe, alas! +What, in our house? + +BANQUO +Too cruel any where. +Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, +And say it is not so. + +Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS + +MACBETH +Had I but died an hour before this chance, +I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, +There 's nothing serious in mortality: +All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; +The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees +Is left this vault to brag of. + +Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN + +DONALBAIN +What is amiss? + +MACBETH +You are, and do not know't: +The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood +Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. + +MACDUFF +Your royal father 's murder'd. + +MALCOLM +O, by whom? + +LENNOX +Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: +Their hands and faces were an badged with blood; +So were their daggers, which unwiped we found +Upon their pillows: +They stared, and were distracted; no man's life +Was to be trusted with them. + +MACBETH +O, yet I do repent me of my fury, +That I did kill them. + +MACDUFF +Wherefore did you so? + +MACBETH +Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, +Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: +The expedition my violent love +Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, +His silver skin laced with his golden blood; +And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature +For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, +Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers +Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, +That had a heart to love, and in that heart +Courage to make 's love kno wn? + +LADY MACBETH +Help me hence, ho! + +MACDUFF +Look to the lady. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues, +That most may claim this argument for ours? + +DONALBAIN +[Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here, +where our fate, +Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? +Let 's away; +Our tears are not yet brew'd. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow +Upon the foot of motion. + +BANQUO +Look to the lady: + +LADY MACBETH is carried out + +And when we have our naked frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure, let us meet, +And question this most bloody piece of work, +To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: +In the great hand of God I stand; and thence +Against the undivulged pretence I fight +Of treasonous malice. + +MACDUFF +And so do I. + +ALL +So all. + +MACBETH +Let's briefly put on manly readiness, +And meet i' the hall together. + +ALL +Well contented. + +Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. + +MALCOLM +What will you do? Let's not consort with them: +To show an unfelt sorrow is an office +Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. + +DONALBAIN +To Ireland, I; our separated fortune +Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, +There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, +The nearer bloody. + +MALCOLM +This murderous shaft that's shot +Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way +Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; +And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, +But shift away: there's warrant in that theft +Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. + +Enter ROSS and an old Man +Old Man +Threescore and ten I can remember well: +Within the volume of which time I have seen +Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night +Hath trifled former knowings. + +ROSS +Ah, good father, +Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, +Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, +And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: +Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, +That darkness does the face of earth entomb, +When living light should kiss it? + +Old Man +'Tis unnatural, +Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, +A falcon, towering in her pride of place, +Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. + +ROSS +And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- +Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, +Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, +Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make +War with mankind. + +Old Man +'Tis said they eat each other. + +ROSS +They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes +That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. + +Enter MACDUFF + +How goes the world, sir, now? + +MACDUFF +Why, see you not? + +ROSS +Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? + +MACDUFF +Those that Macbeth hath slain. + +ROSS +Alas, the day! +What good could they pretend? + +MACDUFF +They were suborn'd: +Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, +Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them +Suspicion of the deed. + +ROSS +'Gainst nature still! +Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up +Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like +The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + +MACDUFF +He is already named, and gone to Scone +To be invested. + +ROSS +Where is Duncan's body? + +MACDUFF +Carried to Colmekill, +The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, +And guardian of their bones. + +ROSS +Will you to Scone? + +MACDUFF +No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + +ROSS +Well, I will thither. + +MACDUFF +Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! +Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! + +ROSS +Farewell, father. + +Old Man +God's benison go with you; and with those +That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Forres. The palace. + +Enter BANQUO +BANQUO +Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, +As the weird women promised, and, I fear, +Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said +It should not stand in thy posterity, +But that myself should be the root and father +Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- +As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- +Why, by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my oracles as well, +And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. + +Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants + +MACBETH +Here's our chief guest. + +LADY MACBETH +If he had been forgotten, +It had been as a gap in our great feast, +And all-thing unbecoming. + +MACBETH +To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, +And I'll request your presence. + +BANQUO +Let your highness +Command upon me; to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tie +For ever knit. + +MACBETH +Ride you this afternoon? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +We should have else desired your good advice, +Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, +In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. +Is't far you ride? + +BANQUO +As far, my lord, as will fill up the time +'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the night +For a dark hour or twain. + +MACBETH +Fail not our feast. + +BANQUO +My lord, I will not. + +MACBETH +We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd +In England and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers +With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, +When therewithal we shall have cause of state +Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, +Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. + +MACBETH +I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; +And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. + +Exit BANQUO + +Let every man be master of his time +Till seven at night: to make society +The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself +Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant + +Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men +Our pleasure? + +ATTENDANT +They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + +MACBETH +Bring them before us. + +Exit Attendant + +To be thus is nothing; +But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo +Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature +Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; +And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, +He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour +To act in safety. There is none but he +Whose being I do fear: and, under him, +My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, +Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters +When first they put the name of king upon me, +And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like +They hail'd him father to a line of kings: +Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, +And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, +Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, +No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, +For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; +For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; +Put rancours in the vessel of my peace +Only for them; and mine eternal jewel +Given to the common enemy of man, +To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! +Rather than so, come fate into the list. +And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! + +Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers + +Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. + +Exit Attendant + +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + +First Murderer +It was, so please your highness. + +MACBETH +Well then, now +Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know +That it was he in the times past which held you +So under fortune, which you thought had been +Our innocent self: this I made good to you +In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, +How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, +the instruments, +Who wrought with them, and all things else that might +To half a soul and to a notion crazed +Say 'Thus did Banquo.' + +First Murderer +You made it known to us. + +MACBETH +I did so, and went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. Do you find +Your patience so predominant in your nature +That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd +To pray for this good man and for his issue, +Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave +And beggar'd yours for ever? + +First Murderer +We are men, my liege. + +MACBETH +Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; +As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, +Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept +All by the name of dogs: the valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The housekeeper, the hunter, every one +According to the gift which bounteous nature +Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive +Particular addition. from the bill +That writes them all alike: and so of men. +Now, if you have a station in the file, +Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; +And I will put that business in your bosoms, +Whose execution takes your enemy off, +Grapples you to the heart and love of us, +Who wear our health but sickly in his life, +Which in his death were perfect. + +Second Murderer +I am one, my liege, +Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world +Have so incensed that I am reckless what +I do to spite the world. + +First Murderer +And I another +So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, +That I would set my lie on any chance, +To mend it, or be rid on't. + +MACBETH +Both of you +Know Banquo was your enemy. + +Both Murderers +True, my lord. + +MACBETH +So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, +That every minute of his being thrusts +Against my near'st of life: and though I could +With barefaced power sweep him from my sight +And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, +For certain friends that are both his and mine, +Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall +Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, +That I to your assistance do make love, +Masking the business from the common eye +For sundry weighty reasons. + +Second Murderer +We shall, my lord, +Perform what you command us. + +First Murderer +Though our lives-- + +MACBETH +Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most +I will advise you where to plant yourselves; +Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, +The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, +And something from the palace; always thought +That I require a clearness: and with him-- +To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- +Fleance his son, that keeps him company, +Whose absence is no less material to me +Than is his father's, must embrace the fate +Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: +I'll come to you anon. + +Both Murderers +We are resolved, my lord. + +MACBETH +I'll call upon you straight: abide within. + +Exeunt Murderers + +It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, +If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant +LADY MACBETH +Is Banquo gone from court? + +Servant +Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Say to the king, I would attend his leisure +For a few words. + +Servant +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +LADY MACBETH +Nought's had, all's spent, +Where our desire is got without content: +'Tis safer to be that which we destroy +Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. + +Enter MACBETH + +How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, +Of sorriest fancies your companions making, +Using those thoughts which should indeed have died +With them they think on? Things without all remedy +Should be without regard: what's done is done. + +MACBETH +We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: +She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice +Remains in danger of her former tooth. +But let the frame of things disjoint, both the +worlds suffer, +Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep +In the affliction of these terrible dreams +That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, +Than on the torture of the mind to lie +In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; +After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; +Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, +Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, +Can touch him further. + +LADY MACBETH +Come on; +Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; +Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. + +MACBETH +So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: +Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; +Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: +Unsafe the while, that we +Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, +And make our faces vizards to our hearts, +Disguising what they are. + +LADY MACBETH +You must leave this. + +MACBETH +O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! +Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. + +LADY MACBETH +But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + +MACBETH +There's comfort yet; they are assailable; +Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown +His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons +The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums +Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done +A deed of dreadful note. + +LADY MACBETH +What's to be done? + +MACBETH +Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, +Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; +And with thy bloody and invisible hand +Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond +Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow +Makes wing to the rooky wood: +Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; +While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. +Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; +Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. +So, prithee, go with me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A park near the palace. + +Enter three Murderers +First Murderer +But who did bid thee join with us? + +Third Murderer +Macbeth. + +Second Murderer +He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers +Our offices and what we have to do +To the direction just. + +First Murderer +Then stand with us. +The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: +Now spurs the lated traveller apace +To gain the timely inn; and near approaches +The subject of our watch. + +Third Murderer +Hark! I hear horses. + +BANQUO +[Within] Give us a light there, ho! + +Second Murderer +Then 'tis he: the rest +That are within the note of expectation +Already are i' the court. + +First Murderer +His horses go about. + +Third Murderer +Almost a mile: but he does usually, +So all men do, from hence to the palace gate +Make it their walk. + +Second Murderer +A light, a light! + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch + +Third Murderer +'Tis he. + +First Murderer +Stand to't. + +BANQUO +It will be rain to-night. + +First Murderer +Let it come down. + +They set upon BANQUO + +BANQUO +O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! +Thou mayst revenge. O slave! + +Dies. FLEANCE escapes + +Third Murderer +Who did strike out the light? + +First Murderer +Wast not the way? + +Third Murderer +There's but one down; the son is fled. + +Second Murderer +We have lost +Best half of our affair. + +First Murderer +Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. + +A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants +MACBETH +You know your own degrees; sit down: at first +And last the hearty welcome. + +Lords +Thanks to your majesty. + +MACBETH +Ourself will mingle with society, +And play the humble host. +Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time +We will require her welcome. + +LADY MACBETH +Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; +For my heart speaks they are welcome. + +First Murderer appears at the door + +MACBETH +See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. +Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: +Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure +The table round. + +Approaching the door + +There's blood on thy face. + +First Murderer +'Tis Banquo's then. + +MACBETH +'Tis better thee without than he within. +Is he dispatch'd? + +First Murderer +My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. + +MACBETH +Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good +That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, +Thou art the nonpareil. + +First Murderer +Most royal sir, +Fleance is 'scaped. + +MACBETH +Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, +Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, +As broad and general as the casing air: +But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in +To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? + +First Murderer +Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head; +The least a death to nature. + +MACBETH +Thanks for that: +There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled +Hath nature that in time will venom breed, +No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow +We'll hear, ourselves, again. + +Exit Murderer + +LADY MACBETH +My royal lord, +You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold +That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, +'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; +From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; +Meeting were bare without it. + +MACBETH +Sweet remembrancer! +Now, good digestion wait on appetite, +And health on both! + +LENNOX +May't please your highness sit. + +The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place + +MACBETH +Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, +Were the graced person of our Banquo present; +Who may I rather challenge for unkindness +Than pity for mischance! + +ROSS +His absence, sir, +Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness +To grace us with your royal company. + +MACBETH +The table's full. + +LENNOX +Here is a place reserved, sir. + +MACBETH +Where? + +LENNOX +Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? + +MACBETH +Which of you have done this? + +Lords +What, my good lord? + +MACBETH +Thou canst not say I did it: never shake +Thy gory locks at me. + +ROSS +Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. + +LADY MACBETH +Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus, +And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; +The fit is momentary; upon a thought +He will again be well: if much you note him, +You shall offend him and extend his passion: +Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? + +MACBETH +Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that +Which might appal the devil. + +LADY MACBETH +O proper stuff! +This is the very painting of your fear: +This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, +Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, +Impostors to true fear, would well become +A woman's story at a winter's fire, +Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! +Why do you make such faces? When all's done, +You look but on a stool. + +MACBETH +Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! +how say you? +Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. +If charnel-houses and our graves must send +Those that we bury back, our monuments +Shall be the maws of kites. + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +LADY MACBETH +What, quite unmann'd in folly? + +MACBETH +If I stand here, I saw him. + +LADY MACBETH +Fie, for shame! + +MACBETH +Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, +Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; +Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd +Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, +That, when the brains were out, the man would die, +And there an end; but now they rise again, +With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, +And push us from our stools: this is more strange +Than such a murder is. + +LADY MACBETH +My worthy lord, +Your noble friends do lack you. + +MACBETH +I do forget. +Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends, +I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; +Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. +I drink to the general joy o' the whole table, +And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; +Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, +And all to all. + +Lords +Our duties, and the pledge. + +Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO + +MACBETH +Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! +Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with! + +LADY MACBETH +Think of this, good peers, +But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; +Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + +MACBETH +What man dare, I dare: +Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, +The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; +Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves +Shall never tremble: or be alive again, +And dare me to the desert with thy sword; +If trembling I inhabit then, protest me +The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! +Unreal mockery, hence! + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +Why, so: being gone, +I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. + +LADY MACBETH +You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, +With most admired disorder. + +MACBETH +Can such things be, +And overcome us like a summer's cloud, +Without our special wonder? You make me strange +Even to the disposition that I owe, +When now I think you can behold such sights, +And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, +When mine is blanched with fear. + +ROSS +What sights, my lord? + +LADY MACBETH +I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; +Question enrages him. At once, good night: +Stand not upon the order of your going, +But go at once. + +LENNOX +Good night; and better health +Attend his majesty! + +LADY MACBETH +A kind good night to all! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH + +MACBETH +It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: +Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; +Augurs and understood relations have +By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth +The secret'st man of blood. What is the night? + +LADY MACBETH +Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + +MACBETH +How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding? + +LADY MACBETH +Did you send to him, sir? + +MACBETH +I hear it by the way; but I will send: +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow, +And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: +More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, +By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, +All causes shall give way: I am in blood +Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go o'er: +Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; +Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. + +LADY MACBETH +You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + +MACBETH +Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse +Is the initiate fear that wants hard use: +We are yet but young in deed. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A Heath. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE +First Witch +Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. + +HECATE +Have I not reason, beldams as you are, +Saucy and overbold? How did you dare +To trade and traffic with Macbeth +In riddles and affairs of death; +And I, the mistress of your charms, +The close contriver of all harms, +Was never call'd to bear my part, +Or show the glory of our art? +And, which is worse, all you have done +Hath been but for a wayward son, +Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, +Loves for his own ends, not for you. +But make amends now: get you gone, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meet me i' the morning: thither he +Will come to know his destiny: +Your vessels and your spells provide, +Your charms and every thing beside. +I am for the air; this night I'll spend +Unto a dismal and a fatal end: +Great business must be wrought ere noon: +Upon the corner of the moon +There hangs a vaporous drop profound; +I'll catch it ere it come to ground: +And that distill'd by magic sleights +Shall raise such artificial sprites +As by the strength of their illusion +Shall draw him on to his confusion: +He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear +He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: +And you all know, security +Is mortals' chiefest enemy. + +Music and a song within: 'Come away, come away,' & c + +Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, +Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. + +Exit + +First Witch +Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Forres. The palace. + +Enter LENNOX and another Lord +LENNOX +My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, +Which can interpret further: only, I say, +Things have been strangely borne. The +gracious Duncan +Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: +And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; +Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, +For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. +Who cannot want the thought how monstrous +It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain +To kill their gracious father? damned fact! +How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight +In pious rage the two delinquents tear, +That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? +Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; +For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive +To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, +He has borne all things well: and I do think +That had he Duncan's sons under his key-- +As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they +should find +What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. +But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd +His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear +Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell +Where he bestows himself? + +Lord +The son of Duncan, +From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth +Lives in the English court, and is received +Of the most pious Edward with such grace +That the malevolence of fortune nothing +Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff +Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid +To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: +That, by the help of these--with Him above +To ratify the work--we may again +Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, +Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, +Do faithful homage and receive free honours: +All which we pine for now: and this report +Hath so exasperate the king that he +Prepares for some attempt of war. + +LENNOX +Sent he to Macduff? + +Lord +He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' +The cloudy messenger turns me his back, +And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time +That clogs me with this answer.' + +LENNOX +And that well might +Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance +His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel +Fly to the court of England and unfold +His message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soon return to this our suffering country +Under a hand accursed! + +Lord +I'll send my prayers with him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. + +Second Witch +Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. + +Third Witch +Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. + +First Witch +Round about the cauldron go; +In the poison'd entrails throw. +Toad, that under cold stone +Days and nights has thirty-one +Swelter'd venom sleeping got, +Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Fillet of a fenny snake, +In the cauldron boil and bake; +Eye of newt and toe of frog, +Wool of bat and tongue of dog, +Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, +Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, +For a charm of powerful trouble, +Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Third Witch +Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, +Witches' mummy, maw and gulf +Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, +Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, +Liver of blaspheming Jew, +Gall of goat, and slips of yew +Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, +Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, +Finger of birth-strangled babe +Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, +Make the gruel thick and slab: +Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, +For the ingredients of our cauldron. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Cool it with a baboon's blood, +Then the charm is firm and good. + +Enter HECATE to the other three Witches + +HECATE +O well done! I commend your pains; +And every one shall share i' the gains; +And now about the cauldron sing, +Live elves and fairies in a ring, +Enchanting all that you put in. + +Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c + +HECATE retires + +Second Witch +By the pricking of my thumbs, +Something wicked this way comes. +Open, locks, +Whoever knocks! + +Enter MACBETH + +MACBETH +How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! +What is't you do? + +ALL +A deed without a name. + +MACBETH +I conjure you, by that which you profess, +Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: +Though you untie the winds and let them fight +Against the churches; though the yesty waves +Confound and swallow navigation up; +Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; +Though castles topple on their warders' heads; +Though palaces and pyramids do slope +Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure +Of nature's germens tumble all together, +Even till destruction sicken; answer me +To what I ask you. + +First Witch +Speak. + +Second Witch +Demand. + +Third Witch +We'll answer. + +First Witch +Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, +Or from our masters? + +MACBETH +Call 'em; let me see 'em. + +First Witch +Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten +Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten +From the murderer's gibbet throw +Into the flame. + +ALL +Come, high or low; +Thyself and office deftly show! + +Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head + +MACBETH +Tell me, thou unknown power,-- + +First Witch +He knows thy thought: +Hear his speech, but say thou nought. + +First Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; +Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; +Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one +word more,-- + +First Witch +He will not be commanded: here's another, +More potent than the first. + +Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child + +Second Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! + +MACBETH +Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. + +Second Apparition +Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn +The power of man, for none of woman born +Shall harm Macbeth. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? +But yet I'll make assurance double sure, +And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; +That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, +And sleep in spite of thunder. + +Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand + +What is this +That rises like the issue of a king, +And wears upon his baby-brow the round +And top of sovereignty? + +ALL +Listen, but speak not to't. + +Third Apparition +Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care +Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: +Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until +Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill +Shall come against him. + +Descends + +MACBETH +That will never be +Who can impress the forest, bid the tree +Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! +Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood +Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth +Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath +To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart +Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art +Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever +Reign in this kingdom? + +ALL +Seek to know no more. + +MACBETH +I will be satisfied: deny me this, +And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. +Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? + +Hautboys + +First Witch +Show! + +Second Witch +Show! + +Third Witch +Show! + +ALL +Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; +Come like shadows, so depart! + +A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following + +MACBETH +Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down! +Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, +Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. +A third is like the former. Filthy hags! +Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! +What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? +Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: +And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass +Which shows me many more; and some I see +That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry: +Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; +For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, +And points at them for his. + +Apparitions vanish + +What, is this so? + +First Witch +Ay, sir, all this is so: but why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, +And show the best of our delights: +I'll charm the air to give a sound, +While you perform your antic round: +That this great king may kindly say, +Our duties did his welcome pay. + +Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE + +MACBETH +Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour +Stand aye accursed in the calendar! +Come in, without there! + +Enter LENNOX + +LENNOX +What's your grace's will? + +MACBETH +Saw you the weird sisters? + +LENNOX +No, my lord. + +MACBETH +Came they not by you? + +LENNOX +No, indeed, my lord. + +MACBETH +Infected be the air whereon they ride; +And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear +The galloping of horse: who was't came by? + +LENNOX +'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word +Macduff is fled to England. + +MACBETH +Fled to England! + +LENNOX +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: +The flighty purpose never is o'ertook +Unless the deed go with it; from this moment +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And even now, +To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: +The castle of Macduff I will surprise; +Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword +His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls +That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; +This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. +But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? +Come, bring me where they are. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. + +Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS +LADY MACDUFF +What had he done, to make him fly the land? + +ROSS +You must have patience, madam. + +LADY MACDUFF +He had none: +His flight was madness: when our actions do not, +Our fears do make us traitors. + +ROSS +You know not +Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. + +LADY MACDUFF +Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, +His mansion and his titles in a place +From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; +He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren, +The most diminutive of birds, will fight, +Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. +All is the fear and nothing is the love; +As little is the wisdom, where the flight +So runs against all reason. + +ROSS +My dearest coz, +I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, +He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows +The fits o' the season. I dare not speak +much further; +But cruel are the times, when we are traitors +And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour +From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, +But float upon a wild and violent sea +Each way and move. I take my leave of you: +Shall not be long but I'll be here again: +Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward +To what they were before. My pretty cousin, +Blessing upon you! + +LADY MACDUFF +Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. + +ROSS +I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, +It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: +I take my leave at once. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Sirrah, your father's dead; +And what will you do now? How will you live? + +Son +As birds do, mother. + +LADY MACDUFF +What, with worms and flies? + +Son +With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, +The pitfall nor the gin. + +Son +Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. +My father is not dead, for all your saying. + +LADY MACDUFF +Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +Nay, how will you do for a husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + +Son +Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + +LADY MACDUFF +Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith, +With wit enough for thee. + +Son +Was my father a traitor, mother? + +LADY MACDUFF +Ay, that he was. + +Son +What is a traitor? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, one that swears and lies. + +Son +And be all traitors that do so? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. + +Son +And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one. + +Son +Who must hang them? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, the honest men. + +Son +Then the liars and swearers are fools, +for there are liars and swearers enow to beat +the honest men and hang up them. + +LADY MACDUFF +Now, God help thee, poor monkey! +But how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +If he were dead, you'ld weep for +him: if you would not, it were a good sign +that I should quickly have a new father. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, +Though in your state of honour I am perfect. +I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: +If you will take a homely man's advice, +Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. +To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; +To do worse to you were fell cruelty, +Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! +I dare abide no longer. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Whither should I fly? +I have done no harm. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world; where to do harm +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas, +Do I put up that womanly defence, +To say I have done no harm? + +Enter Murderers + +What are these faces? + +First Murderer +Where is your husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +I hope, in no place so unsanctified +Where such as thou mayst find him. + +First Murderer +He's a traitor. + +Son +Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! + +First Murderer +What, you egg! + +Stabbing him + +Young fry of treachery! + +Son +He has kill'd me, mother: +Run away, I pray you! + +Dies + +Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her + +SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace. + +Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF +MALCOLM +Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there +Weep our sad bosoms empty. + +MACDUFF +Let us rather +Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men +Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn +New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows +Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out +Like syllable of dolour. + +MALCOLM +What I believe I'll wail, +What know believe, and what I can redress, +As I shall find the time to friend, I will. +What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. +This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest: you have loved him well. +He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; +but something +You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom +To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb +To appease an angry god. + +MACDUFF +I am not treacherous. + +MALCOLM +But Macbeth is. +A good and virtuous nature may recoil +In an imperial charge. But I shall crave +your pardon; +That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose: +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; +Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, +Yet grace must still look so. + +MACDUFF +I have lost my hopes. + +MALCOLM +Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. +Why in that rawness left you wife and child, +Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, +Without leave-taking? I pray you, +Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, +But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, +Whatever I shall think. + +MACDUFF +Bleed, bleed, poor country! +Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou +thy wrongs; +The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord: +I would not be the villain that thou think'st +For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, +And the rich East to boot. + +MALCOLM +Be not offended: +I speak not as in absolute fear of you. +I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; +It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds: I think withal +There would be hands uplifted in my right; +And here from gracious England have I offer +Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, +When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, +Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country +Shall have more vices than it had before, +More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, +By him that shall succeed. + +MACDUFF +What should he be? + +MALCOLM +It is myself I mean: in whom I know +All the particulars of vice so grafted +That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth +Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state +Esteem him as a lamb, being compared +With my confineless harms. + +MACDUFF +Not in the legions +Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd +In evils to top Macbeth. + +MALCOLM +I grant him bloody, +Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, +Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin +That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, +In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, +Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up +The cistern of my lust, and my desire +All continent impediments would o'erbear +That did oppose my will: better Macbeth +Than such an one to reign. + +MACDUFF +Boundless intemperance +In nature is a tyranny; it hath been +The untimely emptying of the happy throne +And fall of many kings. But fear not yet +To take upon you what is yours: you may +Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, +And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. +We have willing dames enough: there cannot be +That vulture in you, to devour so many +As will to greatness dedicate themselves, +Finding it so inclined. + +MALCOLM +With this there grows +In my most ill-composed affection such +A stanchless avarice that, were I king, +I should cut off the nobles for their lands, +Desire his jewels and this other's house: +And my more-having would be as a sauce +To make me hunger more; that I should forge +Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, +Destroying them for wealth. + +Othello, the Moore of Venice +Shakespeare homepage | Othello | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Venice. A street. + +Enter RODERIGO and IAGO +RODERIGO +Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly +That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse +As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. + +IAGO +'Sblood, but you will not hear me: +If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. + +RODERIGO +Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. + +IAGO +Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, +In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, +Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, +I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: +But he; as loving his own pride and purposes, +Evades them, with a bombast circumstance +Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; +And, in conclusion, +Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he, +'I have already chose my officer.' +And what was he? +Forsooth, a great arithmetician, +One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, +A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; +That never set a squadron in the field, +Nor the division of a battle knows +More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, +Wherein the toged consuls can propose +As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, +Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: +And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof +At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds +Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd +By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, +He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, +And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient. + +RODERIGO +By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. + +IAGO +Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, +Preferment goes by letter and affection, +And not by old gradation, where each second +Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, +Whether I in any just term am affined +To love the Moor. + +RODERIGO +I would not follow him then. + +IAGO +O, sir, content you; +I follow him to serve my turn upon him: +We cannot all be masters, nor all masters +Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark +Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, +That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, +Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, +For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd: +Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are +Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, +Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, +And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, +Do well thrive by them and when they have lined +their coats +Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; +And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, +It is as sure as you are Roderigo, +Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: +In following him, I follow but myself; +Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, +But seeming so, for my peculiar end: +For when my outward action doth demonstrate +The native act and figure of my heart +In compliment extern, 'tis not long after +But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve +For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. + +RODERIGO +What a full fortune does the thicklips owe +If he can carry't thus! + +IAGO +Call up her father, +Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, +Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, +And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, +Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, +Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, +As it may lose some colour. + +RODERIGO +Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. + +IAGO +Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell +As when, by night and negligence, the fire +Is spied in populous cities. + +RODERIGO +What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! + +IAGO +Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! +Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! +Thieves! thieves! + +BRABANTIO appears above, at a window + +BRABANTIO +What is the reason of this terrible summons? +What is the matter there? + +RODERIGO +Signior, is all your family within? + +IAGO +Are your doors lock'd? + +BRABANTIO +Why, wherefore ask you this? + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on +your gown; +Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; +Even now, now, very now, an old black ram +Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise; +Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, +Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: +Arise, I say. + +BRABANTIO +What, have you lost your wits? + +RODERIGO +Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? + +BRABANTIO +Not I what are you? + +RODERIGO +My name is Roderigo. + +BRABANTIO +The worser welcome: +I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: +In honest plainness thou hast heard me say +My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, +Being full of supper and distempering draughts, +Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come +To start my quiet. + +RODERIGO +Sir, sir, sir,-- + +BRABANTIO +But thou must needs be sure +My spirit and my place have in them power +To make this bitter to thee. + +RODERIGO +Patience, good sir. + +BRABANTIO +What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; +My house is not a grange. + +RODERIGO +Most grave Brabantio, +In simple and pure soul I come to you. + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not +serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to +do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll +have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; +you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have +coursers for cousins and gennets for germans. + +BRABANTIO +What profane wretch art thou? + +IAGO +I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter +and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. + +BRABANTIO +Thou art a villain. + +IAGO +You are--a senator. + +BRABANTIO +This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. + +RODERIGO +Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you, +If't be your pleasure and most wise consent, +As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, +At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, +Transported, with no worse nor better guard +But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, +To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor-- +If this be known to you and your allowance, +We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; +But if you know not this, my manners tell me +We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe +That, from the sense of all civility, +I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: +Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, +I say again, hath made a gross revolt; +Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes +In an extravagant and wheeling stranger +Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself: +If she be in her chamber or your house, +Let loose on me the justice of the state +For thus deluding you. + +BRABANTIO +Strike on the tinder, ho! +Give me a taper! call up all my people! +This accident is not unlike my dream: +Belief of it oppresses me already. +Light, I say! light! + +Exit above + +IAGO +Farewell; for I must leave you: +It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, +To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall-- +Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state, +However this may gall him with some cheque, +Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd +With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, +Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, +Another of his fathom they have none, +To lead their business: in which regard, +Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains. +Yet, for necessity of present life, +I must show out a flag and sign of love, +Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him, +Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; +And there will I be with him. So, farewell. + +Exit + +Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches + +BRABANTIO +It is too true an evil: gone she is; +And what's to come of my despised time +Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, +Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl! +With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father! +How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me +Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers: +Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you? + +RODERIGO +Truly, I think they are. + +BRABANTIO +O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! +Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds +By what you see them act. Is there not charms +By which the property of youth and maidhood +May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, +Of some such thing? + +RODERIGO +Yes, sir, I have indeed. + +BRABANTIO +Call up my brother. O, would you had had her! +Some one way, some another. Do you know +Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? + +RODERIGO +I think I can discover him, if you please, +To get good guard and go along with me. + +BRABANTIO +Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call; +I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! +And raise some special officers of night. +On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another street. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches +IAGO +Though in the trade of war I have slain men, +Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience +To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity +Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times +I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. + +OTHELLO +'Tis better as it is. + +IAGO +Nay, but he prated, +And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms +Against your honour +That, with the little godliness I have, +I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir, +Are you fast married? Be assured of this, +That the magnifico is much beloved, +And hath in his effect a voice potential +As double as the duke's: he will divorce you; +Or put upon you what restraint and grievance +The law, with all his might to enforce it on, +Will give him cable. + +OTHELLO +Let him do his spite: +My services which I have done the signiory +Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,-- +Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, +I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being +From men of royal siege, and my demerits +May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune +As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago, +But that I love the gentle Desdemona, +I would not my unhoused free condition +Put into circumscription and confine +For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond? + +IAGO +Those are the raised father and his friends: +You were best go in. + +OTHELLO +Not I I must be found: +My parts, my title and my perfect soul +Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? + +IAGO +By Janus, I think no. + +Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches + +OTHELLO +The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. +The goodness of the night upon you, friends! +What is the news? + +CASSIO +The duke does greet you, general, +And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, +Even on the instant. + +OTHELLO +What is the matter, think you? + +CASSIO +Something from Cyprus as I may divine: +It is a business of some heat: the galleys +Have sent a dozen sequent messengers +This very night at one another's heels, +And many of the consuls, raised and met, +Are at the duke's already: you have been +hotly call'd for; +When, being not at your lodging to be found, +The senate hath sent about three several guests +To search you out. + +OTHELLO +'Tis well I am found by you. +I will but spend a word here in the house, +And go with you. + +Exit + +CASSIO +Ancient, what makes he here? + +IAGO +'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack: +If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. + +CASSIO +I do not understand. + +IAGO +He's married. + +CASSIO +To who? + +Re-enter OTHELLO + +IAGO +Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go? + +OTHELLO +Have with you. + +CASSIO +Here comes another troop to seek for you. + +IAGO +It is Brabantio. General, be advised; +He comes to bad intent. + +Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons + +OTHELLO +Holla! stand there! + +RODERIGO +Signior, it is the Moor. + +BRABANTIO +Down with him, thief! + +They draw on both sides + +IAGO +You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you. + +OTHELLO +Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. +Good signior, you shall more command with years +Than with your weapons. + +BRABANTIO +O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter? +Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her; +For I'll refer me to all things of sense, +If she in chains of magic were not bound, +Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, +So opposite to marriage that she shunned +The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, +Would ever have, to incur a general mock, +Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom +Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight. +Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense +That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, +Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals +That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on; +'Tis probable and palpable to thinking. +I therefore apprehend and do attach thee +For an abuser of the world, a practiser +Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. +Lay hold upon him: if he do resist, +Subdue him at his peril. + +OTHELLO +Hold your hands, +Both you of my inclining, and the rest: +Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it +Without a prompter. Where will you that I go +To answer this your charge? + +BRABANTIO +To prison, till fit time +Of law and course of direct session +Call thee to answer. + +OTHELLO +What if I do obey? +How may the duke be therewith satisfied, +Whose messengers are here about my side, +Upon some present business of the state +To bring me to him? + +First Officer +'Tis true, most worthy signior; +The duke's in council and your noble self, +I am sure, is sent for. + +BRABANTIO +How! the duke in council! +In this time of the night! Bring him away: +Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself, +Or any of my brothers of the state, +Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own; +For if such actions may have passage free, +Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A council-chamber. + +The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending +DUKE OF VENICE +There is no composition in these news +That gives them credit. + +First Senator +Indeed, they are disproportion'd; +My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. + +DUKE OF VENICE +And mine, a hundred and forty. + +Second Senator +And mine, two hundred: +But though they jump not on a just account,-- +As in these cases, where the aim reports, +'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm +A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, it is possible enough to judgment: +I do not so secure me in the error, +But the main article I do approve +In fearful sense. + +Sailor +[Within] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho! + +First Officer +A messenger from the galleys. + +Enter a Sailor + +DUKE OF VENICE +Now, what's the business? + +Sailor +The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; +So was I bid report here to the state +By Signior Angelo. + +DUKE OF VENICE +How say you by this change? + +First Senator +This cannot be, +By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant, +To keep us in false gaze. When we consider +The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, +And let ourselves again but understand, +That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, +So may he with more facile question bear it, +For that it stands not in such warlike brace, +But altogether lacks the abilities +That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this, +We must not think the Turk is so unskilful +To leave that latest which concerns him first, +Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, +To wake and wage a danger profitless. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. + +First Officer +Here is more news. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, +Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes, +Have there injointed them with an after fleet. + +First Senator +Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? + +Messenger +Of thirty sail: and now they do restem +Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance +Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, +Your trusty and most valiant servitor, +With his free duty recommends you thus, +And prays you to believe him. + +DUKE OF VENICE +'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus. +Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? + +First Senator +He's now in Florence. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch. + +First Senator +Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. + +Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers + +DUKE OF VENICE +Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you +Against the general enemy Ottoman. + +To BRABANTIO + +I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; +We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight. + +BRABANTIO +So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; +Neither my place nor aught I heard of business +Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care +Take hold on me, for my particular grief +Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature +That it engluts and swallows other sorrows +And it is still itself. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Why, what's the matter? + +BRABANTIO +My daughter! O, my daughter! + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +Dead? + +BRABANTIO +Ay, to me; +She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted +By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; +For nature so preposterously to err, +Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, +Sans witchcraft could not. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding +Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself +And you of her, the bloody book of law +You shall yourself read in the bitter letter +After your own sense, yea, though our proper son +Stood in your action. + +BRABANTIO +Humbly I thank your grace. +Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, +Your special mandate for the state-affairs +Hath hither brought. + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +We are very sorry for't. + +DUKE OF VENICE +[To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this? + +BRABANTIO +Nothing, but this is so. + +OTHELLO +Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, +My very noble and approved good masters, +That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, +It is most true; true, I have married her: +The very head and front of my offending +Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, +And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace: +For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, +Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used +Their dearest action in the tented field, +And little of this great world can I speak, +More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, +And therefore little shall I grace my cause +In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, +I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver +Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, +What conjuration and what mighty magic, +For such proceeding I am charged withal, +I won his daughter. + +BRABANTIO +A maiden never bold; +Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion +Blush'd at herself; and she, in spite of nature, +Of years, of country, credit, every thing, +To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on! +It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect +That will confess perfection so could err +Against all rules of nature, and must be driven +To find out practises of cunning hell, +Why this should be. I therefore vouch again +That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, +Or with some dram conjured to this effect, +He wrought upon her. + +DUKE OF VENICE +To vouch this, is no proof, +Without more wider and more overt test +Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods +Of modern seeming do prefer against him. + +First Senator +But, Othello, speak: +Did you by indirect and forced courses +Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? +Or came it by request and such fair question +As soul to soul affordeth? + +OTHELLO +I do beseech you, +Send for the lady to the Sagittary, +And let her speak of me before her father: +If you do find me foul in her report, +The trust, the office I do hold of you, +Not only take away, but let your sentence +Even fall upon my life. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Fetch Desdemona hither. + +OTHELLO +Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. + +Exeunt IAGO and Attendants + +And, till she come, as truly as to heaven +I do confess the vices of my blood, +So justly to your grave ears I'll present +How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, +And she in mine. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Say it, Othello. + +OTHELLO +Her father loved me; oft invited me; +Still question'd me the story of my life, +From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, +That I have passed. +I ran it through, even from my boyish days, +To the very moment that he bade me tell it; +Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, +Of moving accidents by flood and field +Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, +Of being taken by the insolent foe +And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence +And portance in my travels' history: +Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, +Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven +It was my hint to speak,--such was the process; +And of the Cannibals that each other eat, +The Anthropophagi and men whose heads +Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear +Would Desdemona seriously incline: +But still the house-affairs would draw her thence: +Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, +She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear +Devour up my discourse: which I observing, +Took once a pliant hour, and found good means +To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart +That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, +Whereof by parcels she had something heard, +But not intentively: I did consent, +And often did beguile her of her tears, +When I did speak of some distressful stroke +That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, +She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: +She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange, +'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: +She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd +That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, +And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, +I should but teach him how to tell my story. +And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: +She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, +And I loved her that she did pity them. +This only is the witchcraft I have used: +Here comes the lady; let her witness it. + +Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants + +DUKE OF VENICE +I think this tale would win my daughter too. +Good Brabantio, +Take up this mangled matter at the best: +Men do their broken weapons rather use +Than their bare hands. + +BRABANTIO +I pray you, hear her speak: +If she confess that she was half the wooer, +Destruction on my head, if my bad blame +Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress: +Do you perceive in all this noble company +Where most you owe obedience? + +DESDEMONA +My noble father, +I do perceive here a divided duty: +To you I am bound for life and education; +My life and education both do learn me +How to respect you; you are the lord of duty; +I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband, +And so much duty as my mother show'd +To you, preferring you before her father, +So much I challenge that I may profess +Due to the Moor my lord. + +BRABANTIO +God be wi' you! I have done. +Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: +I had rather to adopt a child than get it. +Come hither, Moor: +I here do give thee that with all my heart +Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart +I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, +I am glad at soul I have no other child: +For thy escape would teach me tyranny, +To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence, +Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers +Into your favour. +When remedies are past, the griefs are ended +By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. +To mourn a mischief that is past and gone +Is the next way to draw new mischief on. +What cannot be preserved when fortune takes +Patience her injury a mockery makes. +The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief; +He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. + +BRABANTIO +So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile; +We lose it not, so long as we can smile. +He bears the sentence well that nothing bears +But the free comfort which from thence he hears, +But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow +That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. +These sentences, to sugar, or to gall, +Being strong on both sides, are equivocal: +But words are words; I never yet did hear +That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. +I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state. + +DUKE OF VENICE +The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for +Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best +known to you; and though we have there a substitute +of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a +sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer +voice on you: you must therefore be content to +slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this +more stubborn and boisterous expedition. + +OTHELLO +The tyrant custom, most grave senators, +Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war +My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise +A natural and prompt alacrity +I find in hardness, and do undertake +These present wars against the Ottomites. +Most humbly therefore bending to your state, +I crave fit disposition for my wife. +Due reference of place and exhibition, +With such accommodation and besort +As levels with her breeding. + +DUKE OF VENICE +If you please, +Be't at her father's. + +BRABANTIO +I'll not have it so. + +OTHELLO +Nor I. + +DESDEMONA +Nor I; I would not there reside, +To put my father in impatient thoughts +By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, +To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear; +And let me find a charter in your voice, +To assist my simpleness. + +DUKE OF VENICE +What would You, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA +That I did love the Moor to live with him, +My downright violence and storm of fortunes +May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued +Even to the very quality of my lord: +I saw Othello's visage in his mind, +And to his honour and his valiant parts +Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. +So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, +A moth of peace, and he go to the war, +The rites for which I love him are bereft me, +And I a heavy interim shall support +By his dear absence. Let me go with him. + +OTHELLO +Let her have your voices. +Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, +To please the palate of my appetite, +Nor to comply with heat--the young affects +In me defunct--and proper satisfaction. +But to be free and bounteous to her mind: +And heaven defend your good souls, that you think +I will your serious and great business scant +For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys +Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness +My speculative and officed instruments, +That my disports corrupt and taint my business, +Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, +And all indign and base adversities +Make head against my estimation! + +DUKE OF VENICE +Be it as you shall privately determine, +Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste, +And speed must answer it. + +First Senator +You must away to-night. + +OTHELLO +With all my heart. + +DUKE OF VENICE +At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again. +Othello, leave some officer behind, +And he shall our commission bring to you; +With such things else of quality and respect +As doth import you. + +OTHELLO +So please your grace, my ancient; +A man he is of honest and trust: +To his conveyance I assign my wife, +With what else needful your good grace shall think +To be sent after me. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let it be so. +Good night to every one. + +To BRABANTIO + +And, noble signior, +If virtue no delighted beauty lack, +Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. + +First Senator +Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well. + +BRABANTIO +Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: +She has deceived her father, and may thee. + +Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, & c + +OTHELLO +My life upon her faith! Honest Iago, +My Desdemona must I leave to thee: +I prithee, let thy wife attend on her: +And bring them after in the best advantage. +Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour +Of love, of worldly matters and direction, +To spend with thee: we must obey the time. + +Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA + +RODERIGO +Iago,-- + +IAGO +What say'st thou, noble heart? + +RODERIGO +What will I do, thinkest thou? + +IAGO +Why, go to bed, and sleep. + +RODERIGO +I will incontinently drown myself. + +IAGO +If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, +thou silly gentleman! + +RODERIGO +It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and +then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician. + +IAGO +O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four +times seven years; and since I could distinguish +betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man +that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I +would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I +would change my humanity with a baboon. + +RODERIGO +What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so +fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it. + +IAGO +Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus +or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which +our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant +nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up +thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or +distract it with many, either to have it sterile +with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the +power and corrigible authority of this lies in our +wills. If the balance of our lives had not one +scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the +blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us +to most preposterous conclusions: but we have +reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal +stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that +you call love to be a sect or scion. + +RODERIGO +It cannot be. + +IAGO +It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of +the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown +cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy +friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with +cables of perdurable toughness; I could never +better stead thee than now. Put money in thy +purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with +an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It +cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her +love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he +his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou +shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but +money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in +their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food +that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be +to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must +change for youth: when she is sated with his body, +she will find the error of her choice: she must +have change, she must: therefore put money in thy +purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a +more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money +thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt +an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not +too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou +shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of +drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek +thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than +to be drowned and go without her. + +RODERIGO +Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on +the issue? + +IAGO +Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told +thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I +hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no +less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge +against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost +thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many +events in the womb of time which will be delivered. +Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more +of this to-morrow. Adieu. + +RODERIGO +Where shall we meet i' the morning? + +IAGO +At my lodging. + +RODERIGO +I'll be with thee betimes. + +IAGO +Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO +What say you? + +IAGO +No more of drowning, do you hear? + +RODERIGO +I am changed: I'll go sell all my land. + +Exit + +IAGO +Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: +For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, +If I would time expend with such a snipe. +But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor: +And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets +He has done my office: I know not if't be true; +But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, +Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; +The better shall my purpose work on him. +Cassio's a proper man: let me see now: +To get his place and to plume up my will +In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:-- +After some time, to abuse Othello's ear +That he is too familiar with his wife. +He hath a person and a smooth dispose +To be suspected, framed to make women false. +The Moor is of a free and open nature, +That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, +And will as tenderly be led by the nose +As asses are. +I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night +Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay. + +Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen +MONTANO +What from the cape can you discern at sea? + +First Gentleman +Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood; +I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, +Descry a sail. + +MONTANO +Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; +A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: +If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, +What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, +Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? + +Second Gentleman +A segregation of the Turkish fleet: +For do but stand upon the foaming shore, +The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; +The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane, +seems to cast water on the burning bear, +And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: +I never did like molestation view +On the enchafed flood. + +MONTANO +If that the Turkish fleet +Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd: +It is impossible they bear it out. + +Enter a third Gentleman + +Third Gentleman +News, lads! our wars are done. +The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, +That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice +Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance +On most part of their fleet. + +MONTANO +How! is this true? + +Third Gentleman +The ship is here put in, +A Veronesa; Michael Cassio, +Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, +Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea, +And is in full commission here for Cyprus. + +MONTANO +I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. + +Third Gentleman +But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort +Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly, +And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted +With foul and violent tempest. + +MONTANO +Pray heavens he be; +For I have served him, and the man commands +Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! +As well to see the vessel that's come in +As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, +Even till we make the main and the aerial blue +An indistinct regard. + +Third Gentleman +Come, let's do so: +For every minute is expectancy +Of more arrivance. + +Enter CASSIO + +CASSIO +Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, +That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens +Give him defence against the elements, +For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea. + +MONTANO +Is he well shipp'd? + +CASSIO +His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot +Of very expert and approved allowance; +Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, +Stand in bold cure. + +A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!' + +Enter a fourth Gentleman + +CASSIO +What noise? + +Fourth Gentleman +The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea +Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!' + +CASSIO +My hopes do shape him for the governor. + +Guns heard + +Second Gentlemen +They do discharge their shot of courtesy: +Our friends at least. + +CASSIO +I pray you, sir, go forth, +And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. + +Second Gentleman +I shall. + +Exit + +MONTANO +But, good lieutenant, is your general wived? + +CASSIO +Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid +That paragons description and wild fame; +One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, +And in the essential vesture of creation +Does tire the ingener. + +Re-enter second Gentleman + +How now! who has put in? + +Second Gentleman +'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. + +CASSIO +Has had most favourable and happy speed: +Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, +The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands-- +Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-- +As having sense of beauty, do omit +Their mortal natures, letting go safely by +The divine Desdemona. + +MONTANO +What is she? + +CASSIO +She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, +Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, +Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts +A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, +And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, +That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, +Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, +Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits +And bring all Cyprus comfort! + +Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants + +O, behold, +The riches of the ship is come on shore! +Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. +Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, +Before, behind thee, and on every hand, +Enwheel thee round! + +DESDEMONA +I thank you, valiant Cassio. +What tidings can you tell me of my lord? + +CASSIO +He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught +But that he's well and will be shortly here. + +DESDEMONA +O, but I fear--How lost you company? + +CASSIO +The great contention of the sea and skies +Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail. + +Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard + +Second Gentleman +They give their greeting to the citadel; +This likewise is a friend. + +CASSIO +See for the news. + +Exit Gentleman + +Good ancient, you are welcome. + +To EMILIA + +Welcome, mistress. +Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, +That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding +That gives me this bold show of courtesy. + +Kissing her + +IAGO +Sir, would she give you so much of her lips +As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, +You'll have enough. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, she has no speech. + +IAGO +In faith, too much; +I find it still, when I have list to sleep: +Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, +She puts her tongue a little in her heart, +And chides with thinking. + +EMILIA +You have little cause to say so. + +IAGO +Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, +Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens, +Saints m your injuries, devils being offended, +Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds. + +DESDEMONA +O, fie upon thee, slanderer! + +IAGO +Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk: +You rise to play and go to bed to work. + +EMILIA +You shall not write my praise. + +IAGO +No, let me not. + +DESDEMONA +What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst +praise me? + +IAGO +O gentle lady, do not put me to't; +For I am nothing, if not critical. + +DESDEMONA +Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour? + +IAGO +Ay, madam. + +DESDEMONA +I am not merry; but I do beguile +The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. +Come, how wouldst thou praise me? + +IAGO +I am about it; but indeed my invention +Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize; +It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, +And thus she is deliver'd. +If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, +The one's for use, the other useth it. + +DESDEMONA +Well praised! How if she be black and witty? + +IAGO +If she be black, and thereto have a wit, +She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. + +DESDEMONA +Worse and worse. + +EMILIA +How if fair and foolish? + +IAGO +She never yet was foolish that was fair; +For even her folly help'd her to an heir. + +DESDEMONA +These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' +the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for +her that's foul and foolish? + +IAGO +There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, +But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. + +DESDEMONA +O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best. +But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving +woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her +merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? + +IAGO +She that was ever fair and never proud, +Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, +Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, +Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,' +She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, +Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, +She that in wisdom never was so frail +To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; +She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, +See suitors following and not look behind, +She was a wight, if ever such wight were,-- + +DESDEMONA +To do what? + +IAGO +To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. + +DESDEMONA +O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn +of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say +you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal +counsellor? + +CASSIO +He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in +the soldier than in the scholar. + +IAGO +[Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, +whisper: with as little a web as this will I +ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon +her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. +You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as +these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had +been better you had not kissed your three fingers so +oft, which now again you are most apt to play the +sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent +courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers +to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! + +Trumpet within + +The Moor! I know his trumpet. + +CASSIO +'Tis truly so. + +DESDEMONA +Let's meet him and receive him. + +CASSIO +Lo, where he comes! + +Enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +O my fair warrior! + +DESDEMONA +My dear Othello! + +OTHELLO +It gives me wonder great as my content +To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! +If after every tempest come such calms, +May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! +And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas +Olympus-high and duck again as low +As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, +'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, +My soul hath her content so absolute +That not another comfort like to this +Succeeds in unknown fate. + +DESDEMONA +The heavens forbid +But that our loves and comforts should increase, +Even as our days do grow! + +OTHELLO +Amen to that, sweet powers! +I cannot speak enough of this content; +It stops me here; it is too much of joy: +And this, and this, the greatest discords be + +Kissing her + +That e'er our hearts shall make! + +IAGO +[Aside] O, you are well tuned now! +But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, +As honest as I am. + +OTHELLO +Come, let us to the castle. +News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks +are drown'd. +How does my old acquaintance of this isle? +Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus; +I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, +I prattle out of fashion, and I dote +In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago, +Go to the bay and disembark my coffers: +Bring thou the master to the citadel; +He is a good one, and his worthiness +Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona, +Once more, well met at Cyprus. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +IAGO +Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come +hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base +men being in love have then a nobility in their +natures more than is native to them--list me. The +lieutenant tonight watches on the court of +guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is +directly in love with him. + +RODERIGO +With him! why, 'tis not possible. + +IAGO +Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. +Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, +but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies: +and will she love him still for prating? let not +thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed; +and what delight shall she have to look on the +devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of +sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to +give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, +sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which +the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these +required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will +find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, +disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will +instruct her in it and compel her to some second +choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most +pregnant and unforced position--who stands so +eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio +does? a knave very voluble; no further +conscionable than in putting on the mere form of +civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing +of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, +none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a +finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and +counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never +present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the +knave is handsome, young, and hath all those +requisites in him that folly and green minds look +after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman +hath found him already. + +RODERIGO +I cannot believe that in her; she's full of +most blessed condition. + +IAGO +Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of +grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never +have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou +not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst +not mark that? + +RODERIGO +Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. + +IAGO +Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue +to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met +so near with their lips that their breaths embraced +together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these +mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes +the master and main exercise, the incorporate +conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I +have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; +for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows +you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find +some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking +too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what +other course you please, which the time shall more +favourably minister. + +RODERIGO +Well. + +IAGO +Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply +may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for +even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to +mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true +taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So +shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by +the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the +impediment most profitably removed, without the +which there were no expectation of our prosperity. + +RODERIGO +I will do this, if I can bring it to any +opportunity. + +IAGO +I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: +I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. + +RODERIGO +Adieu. + +Exit + +IAGO +That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; +That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: +The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, +Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, +And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona +A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; +Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure +I stand accountant for as great a sin, +But partly led to diet my revenge, +For that I do suspect the lusty Moor +Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof +Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; +And nothing can or shall content my soul +Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, +Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor +At least into a jealousy so strong +That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, +If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash +For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, +I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, +Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb-- +For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too-- +Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me. +For making him egregiously an ass +And practising upon his peace and quiet +Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused: +Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used. + +Exit + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People following +Herald +It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant +general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, +importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, +every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, +some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and +revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these +beneficial news, it is the celebration of his +nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be +proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full +liberty of feasting from this present hour of five +till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the +isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants +OTHELLO +Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: +Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, +Not to outsport discretion. + +CASSIO +Iago hath direction what to do; +But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye +Will I look to't. + +OTHELLO +Iago is most honest. +Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest +Let me have speech with you. + +To DESDEMONA + +Come, my dear love, +The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; +That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you. +Good night. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +Enter IAGO + +CASSIO +Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. + +IAGO +Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the +clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love +of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: +he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and +she is sport for Jove. + +CASSIO +She's a most exquisite lady. + +IAGO +And, I'll warrant her, fun of game. + +CASSIO +Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature. + +IAGO +What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of +provocation. + +CASSIO +An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. + +IAGO +And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? + +CASSIO +She is indeed perfection. + +IAGO +Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I +have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace +of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to +the health of black Othello. + +CASSIO +Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and +unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish +courtesy would invent some other custom of +entertainment. + +IAGO +O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for +you. + +CASSIO +I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was +craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation +it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, +and dare not task my weakness with any more. + +IAGO +What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants +desire it. + +CASSIO +Where are they? + +IAGO +Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. + +CASSIO +I'll do't; but it dislikes me. + +Exit + +IAGO +If I can fasten but one cup upon him, +With that which he hath drunk to-night already, +He'll be as full of quarrel and offence +As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, +Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, +To Desdemona hath to-night caroused +Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch: +Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, +That hold their honours in a wary distance, +The very elements of this warlike isle, +Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, +And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, +Am I to put our Cassio in some action +That may offend the isle.--But here they come: +If consequence do but approve my dream, +My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. + +Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen; servants following with wine + +CASSIO +'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. + +MONTANO +Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am +a soldier. + +IAGO +Some wine, ho! + +Sings + +And let me the canakin clink, clink; +And let me the canakin clink +A soldier's a man; +A life's but a span; +Why, then, let a soldier drink. +Some wine, boys! + +CASSIO +'Fore God, an excellent song. + +IAGO +I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are +most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and +your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing +to your English. + +CASSIO +Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? + +IAGO +Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead +drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he +gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle +can be filled. + +CASSIO +To the health of our general! + +MONTANO +I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. + +IAGO +O sweet England! +King Stephen was a worthy peer, +His breeches cost him but a crown; +He held them sixpence all too dear, +With that he call'd the tailor lown. +He was a wight of high renown, +And thou art but of low degree: +'Tis pride that pulls the country down; +Then take thine auld cloak about thee. +Some wine, ho! + +CASSIO +Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. + +IAGO +Will you hear't again? + +CASSIO +No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that +does those things. Well, God's above all; and there +be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. + +IAGO +It's true, good lieutenant. + +CASSIO +For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor +any man of quality,--I hope to be saved. + +IAGO +And so do I too, lieutenant. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the +lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's +have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive +us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business. +Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my +ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left: +I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and +speak well enough. + +All +Excellent well. + +CASSIO +Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. + +Exit + +MONTANO +To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. + +IAGO +You see this fellow that is gone before; +He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar +And give direction: and do but see his vice; +'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, +The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him. +I fear the trust Othello puts him in. +On some odd time of his infirmity, +Will shake this island. + +MONTANO +But is he often thus? + +IAGO +'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: +He'll watch the horologe a double set, +If drink rock not his cradle. + +MONTANO +It were well +The general were put in mind of it. +Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature +Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, +And looks not on his evils: is not this true? + +Enter RODERIGO + +IAGO +[Aside to him] How now, Roderigo! +I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. + +Exit RODERIGO + +MONTANO +And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor +Should hazard such a place as his own second +With one of an ingraft infirmity: +It were an honest action to say +So to the Moor. + +IAGO +Not I, for this fair island: +I do love Cassio well; and would do much +To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise? + +Cry within: 'Help! help!' + +Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO + +CASSIO +You rogue! you rascal! + +MONTANO +What's the matter, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +A knave teach me my duty! +I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. + +RODERIGO +Beat me! + +CASSIO +Dost thou prate, rogue? + +Striking RODERIGO + +MONTANO +Nay, good lieutenant; + +Staying him + +I pray you, sir, hold your hand. + +CASSIO +Let me go, sir, +Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard. + +MONTANO +Come, come, +you're drunk. + +CASSIO +Drunk! + +They fight + +IAGO +[Aside to RODERIGO] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;-- +Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir; +Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed! + +Bell rings + +Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho! +The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold! +You will be shamed for ever. + +Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +What is the matter here? + +MONTANO +'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. + +Faints + +OTHELLO +Hold, for your lives! + +IAGO +Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,-- +Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? +Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! + +OTHELLO +Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? +Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that +Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? +For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: +He that stirs next to carve for his own rage +Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. +Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle +From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? +Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, +Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. + +IAGO +I do not know: friends all but now, even now, +In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom +Devesting them for bed; and then, but now-- +As if some planet had unwitted men-- +Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, +In opposition bloody. I cannot speak +Any beginning to this peevish odds; +And would in action glorious I had lost +Those legs that brought me to a part of it! + +OTHELLO +How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? + +CASSIO +I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. + +OTHELLO +Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; +The gravity and stillness of your youth +The world hath noted, and your name is great +In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, +That you unlace your reputation thus +And spend your rich opinion for the name +Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. + +MONTANO +Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: +Your officer, Iago, can inform you,-- +While I spare speech, which something now +offends me,-- +Of all that I do know: nor know I aught +By me that's said or done amiss this night; +Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, +And to defend ourselves it be a sin +When violence assails us. + +OTHELLO +Now, by heaven, +My blood begins my safer guides to rule; +And passion, having my best judgment collied, +Assays to lead the way: if I once stir, +Or do but lift this arm, the best of you +Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know +How this foul rout began, who set it on; +And he that is approved in this offence, +Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, +Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, +Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, +To manage private and domestic quarrel, +In night, and on the court and guard of safety! +'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't? + +MONTANO +If partially affined, or leagued in office, +Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, +Thou art no soldier. + +IAGO +Touch me not so near: +I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth +Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; +Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth +Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. +Montano and myself being in speech, +There comes a fellow crying out for help: +And Cassio following him with determined sword, +To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman +Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: +Myself the crying fellow did pursue, +Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out-- +The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, +Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather +For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, +And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night +I ne'er might say before. When I came back-- +For this was brief--I found them close together, +At blow and thrust; even as again they were +When you yourself did part them. +More of this matter cannot I report: +But men are men; the best sometimes forget: +Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, +As men in rage strike those that wish them best, +Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received +From him that fled some strange indignity, +Which patience could not pass. + +OTHELLO +I know, Iago, +Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, +Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee +But never more be officer of mine. + +Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended + +Look, if my gentle love be not raised up! +I'll make thee an example. + +DESDEMONA +What's the matter? + +OTHELLO +All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. +Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon: +Lead him off. + +To MONTANO, who is led off + +Iago, look with care about the town, +And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. +Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life +To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. + +Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO + +IAGO +What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +Ay, past all surgery. + +IAGO +Marry, heaven forbid! + +CASSIO +Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost +my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of +myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, +Iago, my reputation! + +IAGO +As I am an honest man, I thought you had received +some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than +in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false +imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without +deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, +unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! +there are ways to recover the general again: you +are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in +policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his +offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue +to him again, and he's yours. + +CASSIO +I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so +good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so +indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? +and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse +fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible +spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, +let us call thee devil! + +IAGO +What was he that you followed with your sword? What +had he done to you? + +CASSIO +I know not. + +IAGO +Is't possible? + +CASSIO +I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; +a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men +should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away +their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance +revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! + +IAGO +Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus +recovered? + +CASSIO +It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place +to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me +another, to make me frankly despise myself. + +IAGO +Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, +the place, and the condition of this country +stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; +but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +CASSIO +I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me +I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, +such an answer would stop them all. To be now a +sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a +beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is +unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. + +IAGO +Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, +if it be well used: exclaim no more against it. +And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. + +CASSIO +I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! + +IAGO +You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man. +I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife +is now the general: may say so in this respect, for +that he hath devoted and given up himself to the +contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and +graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune +her help to put you in your place again: she is of +so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, +she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more +than she is requested: this broken joint between +you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my +fortunes against any lay worth naming, this +crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. + +CASSIO +You advise me well. + +IAGO +I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. + +CASSIO +I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will +beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: +I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here. + +IAGO +You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I +must to the watch. +CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago. + +Exit + +IAGO +And what's he then that says I play the villain? +When this advice is free I give and honest, +Probal to thinking and indeed the course +To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy +The inclining Desdemona to subdue +In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful +As the free elements. And then for her +To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism, +All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, +His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, +That she may make, unmake, do what she list, +Even as her appetite shall play the god +With his weak function. How am I then a villain +To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, +Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! +When devils will the blackest sins put on, +They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, +As I do now: for whiles this honest fool +Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes +And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, +I'll pour this pestilence into his ear, +That she repeals him for her body's lust; +And by how much she strives to do him good, +She shall undo her credit with the Moor. +So will I turn her virtue into pitch, +And out of her own goodness make the net +That shall enmesh them all. + +Re-enter RODERIGO + +How now, Roderigo! + +RODERIGO +I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that +hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is +almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well +cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall +have so much experience for my pains, and so, with +no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice. + +IAGO +How poor are they that have not patience! +What wound did ever heal but by degrees? +Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; +And wit depends on dilatory time. +Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee. +And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio: +Though other things grow fair against the sun, +Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: +Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; +Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. +Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: +Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: +Nay, get thee gone. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Two things are to be done: +My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; +I'll set her on; +Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, +And bring him jump when he may Cassio find +Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way +Dull not device by coldness and delay. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the castle. + +Enter CASSIO and some Musicians +CASSIO +Masters, play here; I will content your pains; +Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.' + +Music + +Enter Clown + +Clown +Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples, +that they speak i' the nose thus? + +First Musician +How, sir, how! + +Clown +Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments? + +First Musician +Ay, marry, are they, sir. + +Clown +O, thereby hangs a tail. + +First Musician +Whereby hangs a tale, sir? + +Clown +Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know. +But, masters, here's money for you: and the general +so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's +sake, to make no more noise with it. + +First Musician +Well, sir, we will not. + +Clown +If you have any music that may not be heard, to't +again: but, as they say to hear music the general +does not greatly care. + +First Musician +We have none such, sir. + +Clown +Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away: +go; vanish into air; away! + +Exeunt Musicians + +CASSIO +Dost thou hear, my honest friend? + +Clown +No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you. + +CASSIO +Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece +of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends +the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's +one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech: +wilt thou do this? + +Clown +She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I +shall seem to notify unto her. + +CASSIO +Do, good my friend. + +Exit Clown + +Enter IAGO + +In happy time, Iago. + +IAGO +You have not been a-bed, then? + +CASSIO +Why, no; the day had broke +Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago, +To send in to your wife: my suit to her +Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona +Procure me some access. + +IAGO +I'll send her to you presently; +And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor +Out of the way, that your converse and business +May be more free. + +CASSIO +I humbly thank you for't. + +Exit IAGO + +I never knew +A Florentine more kind and honest. + +Enter EMILIA + +EMILIA +Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry +For your displeasure; but all will sure be well. +The general and his wife are talking of it; +And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies, +That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus, +And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom +He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you +And needs no other suitor but his likings +To take the safest occasion by the front +To bring you in again. + +CASSIO +Yet, I beseech you, +If you think fit, or that it may be done, +Give me advantage of some brief discourse +With Desdemona alone. + +EMILIA +Pray you, come in; +I will bestow you where you shall have time +To speak your bosom freely. + +CASSIO +I am much bound to you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen +OTHELLO +These letters give, Iago, to the pilot; +And by him do my duties to the senate: +That done, I will be walking on the works; +Repair there to me. + +IAGO +Well, my good lord, I'll do't. + +OTHELLO +This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't? + +Gentleman +We'll wait upon your lordship. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The garden of the castle. + +Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA +DESDEMONA +Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do +All my abilities in thy behalf. + +EMILIA +Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband, +As if the case were his. + +DESDEMONA +O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio, +But I will have my lord and you again +As friendly as you were. + +CASSIO +Bounteous madam, +Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, +He's never any thing but your true servant. + +DESDEMONA +I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord: +You have known him long; and be you well assured +He shall in strangeness stand no further off +Than in a polite distance. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, lady, +That policy may either last so long, +Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, +Or breed itself so out of circumstance, +That, I being absent and my place supplied, +My general will forget my love and service. + +DESDEMONA +Do not doubt that; before Emilia here +I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee, +If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it +To the last article: my lord shall never rest; +I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience; +His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; +I'll intermingle every thing he does +With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio; +For thy solicitor shall rather die +Than give thy cause away. + +EMILIA +Madam, here comes my lord. + +CASSIO +Madam, I'll take my leave. + +DESDEMONA +Why, stay, and hear me speak. + +CASSIO +Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease, +Unfit for mine own purposes. + +DESDEMONA +Well, do your discretion. + +Exit CASSIO + +Enter OTHELLO and IAGO + +IAGO +Ha! I like not that. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say? + +IAGO +Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what. + +OTHELLO +Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? + +IAGO +Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it, +That he would steal away so guilty-like, +Seeing you coming. + +OTHELLO +I do believe 'twas he. + +DESDEMONA +How now, my lord! +I have been talking with a suitor here, +A man that languishes in your displeasure. + +OTHELLO +Who is't you mean? + +DESDEMONA +Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, +If I have any grace or power to move you, +His present reconciliation take; +For if he be not one that truly loves you, +That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, +I have no judgment in an honest face: +I prithee, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Went he hence now? + +DESDEMONA +Ay, sooth; so humbled +That he hath left part of his grief with me, +To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. + +DESDEMONA +But shall't be shortly? + +OTHELLO +The sooner, sweet, for you. + +DESDEMONA +Shall't be to-night at supper? + +OTHELLO +No, not to-night. + +DESDEMONA +To-morrow dinner, then? + +OTHELLO +I shall not dine at home; +I meet the captains at the citadel. + +DESDEMONA +Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn; +On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: +I prithee, name the time, but let it not +Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent; +And yet his trespass, in our common reason-- +Save that, they say, the wars must make examples +Out of their best--is not almost a fault +To incur a private cheque. When shall he come? +Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul, +What you would ask me, that I should deny, +Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio, +That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time, +When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, +Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do +To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,-- + +OTHELLO +Prithee, no more: let him come when he will; +I will deny thee nothing. + +DESDEMONA +Why, this is not a boon; +'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, +Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, +Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit +To your own person: nay, when I have a suit +Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, +It shall be full of poise and difficult weight +And fearful to be granted. + +OTHELLO +I will deny thee nothing: +Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, +To leave me but a little to myself. + +DESDEMONA +Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. + +OTHELLO +Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight. + +DESDEMONA +Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you; +Whate'er you be, I am obedient. + +Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA + +OTHELLO +Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, +But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, +Chaos is come again. + +IAGO +My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say, Iago? + +IAGO +Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, +Know of your love? + +OTHELLO +He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? + +IAGO +But for a satisfaction of my thought; +No further harm. + +OTHELLO +Why of thy thought, Iago? + +IAGO +I did not think he had been acquainted with her. + +OTHELLO +O, yes; and went between us very oft. + +IAGO +Indeed! + +OTHELLO +Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that? +Is he not honest? + +IAGO +Honest, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Honest! ay, honest. + +IAGO +My lord, for aught I know. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou think? + +IAGO +Think, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Think, my lord! +By heaven, he echoes me, +As if there were some monster in his thought +Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something: +I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that, +When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like? +And when I told thee he was of my counsel +In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!' +And didst contract and purse thy brow together, +As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain +Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, +Show me thy thought. + +IAGO +My lord, you know I love you. + +OTHELLO +I think thou dost; +And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, +And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath, +Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: +For such things in a false disloyal knave +Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just +They are close delations, working from the heart +That passion cannot rule. + +IAGO +For Michael Cassio, +I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. + +OTHELLO +I think so too. + +IAGO +Men should be what they seem; +Or those that be not, would they might seem none! + +OTHELLO +Certain, men should be what they seem. + +IAGO +Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man. + +OTHELLO +Nay, yet there's more in this: +I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, +As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts +The worst of words. + +IAGO +Good my lord, pardon me: +Though I am bound to every act of duty, +I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. +Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false; +As where's that palace whereinto foul things +Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure, +But some uncleanly apprehensions +Keep leets and law-days and in session sit +With meditations lawful? + +OTHELLO +Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, +If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear +A stranger to thy thoughts. + +IAGO +I do beseech you-- +Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, +As, I confess, it is my nature's plague +To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy +Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet, +From one that so imperfectly conceits, +Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble +Out of his scattering and unsure observance. +It were not for your quiet nor your good, +Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, +To let you know my thoughts. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou mean? + +IAGO +Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, +Is the immediate jewel of their souls: +Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; +'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands: +But he that filches from me my good name +Robs me of that which not enriches him +And makes me poor indeed. + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. + +IAGO +You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; +Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. + +OTHELLO +Ha! + +IAGO +O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; +It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock +The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss +Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; +But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er +Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! + +OTHELLO +O misery! + +IAGO +Poor and content is rich and rich enough, +But riches fineless is as poor as winter +To him that ever fears he shall be poor. +Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend +From jealousy! + +OTHELLO +Why, why is this? +Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy, +To follow still the changes of the moon +With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt +Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, +When I shall turn the business of my soul +To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, +Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous +To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, +Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well; +Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: +Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw +The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; +For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; +I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; +And on the proof, there is no more but this,-- +Away at once with love or jealousy! + +IAGO +I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason +To show the love and duty that I bear you +With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, +Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. +Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; +Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: +I would not have your free and noble nature, +Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't: +I know our country disposition well; +In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks +They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience +Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. + +Timon of Athens +Shakespeare homepage | Timon of Athens | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors +Poet +Good day, sir. + +Painter +I am glad you're well. + +Poet +I have not seen you long: how goes the world? + +Painter +It wears, sir, as it grows. + +Poet +Ay, that's well known: +But what particular rarity? what strange, +Which manifold record not matches? See, +Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power +Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. + +Painter +I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. + +Merchant +O, 'tis a worthy lord. + +Jeweller +Nay, that's most fix'd. + +Merchant +A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, +To an untirable and continuate goodness: +He passes. +Jeweller: I have a jewel here-- + +Merchant +O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? +Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- + +Poet +[Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have +praised the vile, +It stains the glory in that happy verse +Which aptly sings the good.' + +Merchant +'Tis a good form. + +Looking at the jewel + +Jeweller +And rich: here is a water, look ye. + +Painter +You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication +To the great lord. + +Poet +A thing slipp'd idly from me. +Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes +From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint +Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame +Provokes itself and like the current flies +Each bound it chafes. What have you there? + +Painter +A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? + +Poet +Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. +Let's see your piece. + +Painter +'Tis a good piece. + +Poet +So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. + +Painter +Indifferent. + +Poet +Admirable: how this grace +Speaks his own standing! what a mental power +This eye shoots forth! how big imagination +Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture +One might interpret. + +Painter +It is a pretty mocking of the life. +Here is a touch; is't good? + +Poet +I will say of it, +It tutors nature: artificial strife +Lives in these touches, livelier than life. + +Enter certain Senators, and pass over + +Painter +How this lord is follow'd! + +Poet +The senators of Athens: happy man! + +Painter +Look, more! + +Poet +You see this confluence, this great flood +of visitors. +I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, +Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug +With amplest entertainment: my free drift +Halts not particularly, but moves itself +In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice +Infects one comma in the course I hold; +But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, +Leaving no tract behind. + +Painter +How shall I understand you? + +Poet +I will unbolt to you. +You see how all conditions, how all minds, +As well of glib and slippery creatures as +Of grave and austere quality, tender down +Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune +Upon his good and gracious nature hanging +Subdues and properties to his love and tendance +All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer +To Apemantus, that few things loves better +Than to abhor himself: even he drops down +The knee before him, and returns in peace +Most rich in Timon's nod. + +Painter +I saw them speak together. + +Poet +Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill +Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount +Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, +That labour on the bosom of this sphere +To propagate their states: amongst them all, +Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, +One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame, +Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; +Whose present grace to present slaves and servants +Translates his rivals. + +Painter +'Tis conceived to scope. +This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, +With one man beckon'd from the rest below, +Bowing his head against the sleepy mount +To climb his happiness, would be well express'd +In our condition. + +Poet +Nay, sir, but hear me on. +All those which were his fellows but of late, +Some better than his value, on the moment +Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, +Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, +Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him +Drink the free air. + +Painter +Ay, marry, what of these? + +Poet +When Fortune in her shift and change of mood +Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants +Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top +Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, +Not one accompanying his declining foot. + +Painter +'Tis common: +A thousand moral paintings I can show +That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's +More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well +To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen +The foot above the head. + +Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following + +TIMON +Imprison'd is he, say you? + +Messenger +Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, +His means most short, his creditors most strait: +Your honourable letter he desires +To those have shut him up; which failing, +Periods his comfort. + +TIMON +Noble Ventidius! Well; +I am not of that feather to shake off +My friend when he must need me. I do know him +A gentleman that well deserves a help: +Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, +and free him. + +Messenger +Your lordship ever binds him. + +TIMON +Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; +And being enfranchised, bid him come to me. +'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, +But to support him after. Fare you well. + +Messenger +All happiness to your honour! + +Exit + +Enter an old Athenian + +Old Athenian +Lord Timon, hear me speak. + +TIMON +Freely, good father. + +Old Athenian +Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. + +TIMON +I have so: what of him? + +Old Athenian +Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. + +TIMON +Attends he here, or no? Lucilius! + +LUCILIUS +Here, at your lordship's service. + +Old Athenian +This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, +By night frequents my house. I am a man +That from my first have been inclined to thrift; +And my estate deserves an heir more raised +Than one which holds a trencher. + +TIMON +Well; what further? + +Old Athenian +One only daughter have I, no kin else, +On whom I may confer what I have got: +The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride, +And I have bred her at my dearest cost +In qualities of the best. This man of thine +Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord, +Join with me to forbid him her resort; +Myself have spoke in vain. + +TIMON +The man is honest. + +Old Athenian +Therefore he will be, Timon: +His honesty rewards him in itself; +It must not bear my daughter. + +TIMON +Does she love him? + +Old Athenian +She is young and apt: +Our own precedent passions do instruct us +What levity's in youth. + +TIMON +[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid? + +LUCILIUS +Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. + +Old Athenian +If in her marriage my consent be missing, +I call the gods to witness, I will choose +Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, +And dispossess her all. + +TIMON +How shall she be endow'd, +if she be mated with an equal husband? + +Old Athenian +Three talents on the present; in future, all. + +TIMON +This gentleman of mine hath served me long: +To build his fortune I will strain a little, +For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: +What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, +And make him weigh with her. + +Old Athenian +Most noble lord, +Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. + +TIMON +My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. + +LUCILIUS +Humbly I thank your lordship: never may +The state or fortune fall into my keeping, +Which is not owed to you! + +Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian + +Poet +Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! + +TIMON +I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: +Go not away. What have you there, my friend? + +Painter +A piece of painting, which I do beseech +Your lordship to accept. + +TIMON +Painting is welcome. +The painting is almost the natural man; +or since dishonour traffics with man's nature, +He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are +Even such as they give out. I like your work; +And you shall find I like it: wait attendance +Till you hear further from me. + +Painter +The gods preserve ye! + +TIMON +Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; +We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel +Hath suffer'd under praise. + +Jeweller +What, my lord! dispraise? + +TIMON +A more satiety of commendations. +If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, +It would unclew me quite. + +Jeweller +My lord, 'tis rated +As those which sell would give: but you well know, +Things of like value differing in the owners +Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord, +You mend the jewel by the wearing it. + +TIMON +Well mock'd. + +Merchant +No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, +Which all men speak with him. + +TIMON +Look, who comes here: will you be chid? + +Enter APEMANTUS + +Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship. + +Merchant +He'll spare none. + +TIMON +Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! + +APEMANTUS +Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; +When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. + +TIMON +Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. + +APEMANTUS +Are they not Athenians? + +TIMON +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then I repent not. +Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name. + +TIMON +Thou art proud, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon. + +TIMON +Whither art going? + +APEMANTUS +To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. + +TIMON +That's a deed thou'lt die for. + +APEMANTUS +Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. + +TIMON +How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +The best, for the innocence. + +TIMON +Wrought he not well that painted it? + +APEMANTUS +He wrought better that made the painter; and yet +he's but a filthy piece of work. + +Painter +You're a dog. + +APEMANTUS +Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog? + +TIMON +Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +No; I eat not lords. + +TIMON +An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. + +APEMANTUS +O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. + +TIMON +That's a lascivious apprehension. + +APEMANTUS +So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. + +TIMON +How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a +man a doit. + +TIMON +What dost thou think 'tis worth? + +APEMANTUS +Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! + +Poet +How now, philosopher! + +APEMANTUS +Thou liest. + +Poet +Art not one? + +APEMANTUS +Yes. + +Poet +Then I lie not. + +APEMANTUS +Art not a poet? + +Poet +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou +hast feigned him a worthy fellow. + +Poet +That's not feigned; he is so. + +APEMANTUS +Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy +labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' +the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! + +TIMON +What wouldst do then, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. + +TIMON +What, thyself? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Wherefore? + +APEMANTUS +That I had no angry wit to be a lord. +Art not thou a merchant? + +Merchant +Ay, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! + +Merchant +If traffic do it, the gods do it. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! + +Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger + +TIMON +What trumpet's that? + +Messenger +'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, +All of companionship. + +TIMON +Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +You must needs dine with me: go not you hence +Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, +Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest + +Most welcome, sir! + +APEMANTUS +So, so, there! +Aches contract and starve your supple joints! +That there should be small love 'mongst these +sweet knaves, +And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out +Into baboon and monkey. + +ALCIBIADES +Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed +Most hungerly on your sight. + +TIMON +Right welcome, sir! +Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time +In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. + +Exeunt all except APEMANTUS + +Enter two Lords + +First Lord +What time o' day is't, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Time to be honest. + +First Lord +That time serves still. + +APEMANTUS +The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. + +Second Lord +Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. + +Second Lord +Fare thee well, fare thee well. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. + +Second Lord +Why, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to +give thee none. + +First Lord +Hang thyself! + +APEMANTUS +No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy +requests to thy friend. + +Second Lord +Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! + +APEMANTUS +I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass. + +Exit + +First Lord +He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, +And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes +The very heart of kindness. + +Second Lord +He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, +Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays +Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, +But breeds the giver a return exceeding +All use of quittance. + +First Lord +The noblest mind he carries +That ever govern'd man. + +Second Lord +Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? + +First Lord +I'll keep you company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself +VENTIDIUS +Most honour'd Timon, +It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age, +And call him to long peace. +He is gone happy, and has left me rich: +Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound +To your free heart, I do return those talents, +Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help +I derived liberty. + +TIMON +O, by no means, +Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: +I gave it freely ever; and there's none +Can truly say he gives, if he receives: +If our betters play at that game, we must not dare +To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair. + +VENTIDIUS +A noble spirit! + +TIMON +Nay, my lords, + +They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON + +Ceremony was but devised at first +To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, +Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; +But where there is true friendship, there needs none. +Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes +Than my fortunes to me. + +They sit + +First Lord +My lord, we always have confess'd it. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not? + +TIMON +O, Apemantus, you are welcome. + +APEMANTUS +No; +You shall not make me welcome: +I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. + +TIMON +Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there +Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame. +They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond +man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by +himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is +he fit for't, indeed. + +APEMANTUS +Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to +observe; I give thee warning on't. + +TIMON +I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, +therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; +prithee, let my meat make thee silent. + +APEMANTUS +I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should +ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of +men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me +to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood; +and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. +I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: +Methinks they should invite them without knives; +Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. +There's much example for't; the fellow that sits +next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the +breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest +man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a +huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; +Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: +Great men should drink with harness on their throats. + +TIMON +My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. + +Second Lord +Let it flow this way, my good lord. + +APEMANTUS +Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides +well. Those healths will make thee and thy state +look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to +be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire: +This and my food are equals; there's no odds: +Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. +Apemantus' grace. +Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; +I pray for no man but myself: +Grant I may never prove so fond, +To trust man on his oath or bond; +Or a harlot, for her weeping; +Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping: +Or a keeper with my freedom; +Or my friends, if I should need 'em. +Amen. So fall to't: +Rich men sin, and I eat root. + +Eats and drinks + +Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! + +TIMON +Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. + +ALCIBIADES +My heart is ever at your service, my lord. + +TIMON +You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a +dinner of friends. + +ALCIBIADES +So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat +like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast. + +APEMANTUS +Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then, +that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em! + +First Lord +Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you +would once use our hearts, whereby we might express +some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves +for ever perfect. + +TIMON +O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods +themselves have provided that I shall have much help +from you: how had you been my friends else? why +have you that charitable title from thousands, did +not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told +more of you to myself than you can with modesty +speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm +you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any +friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they +were the most needless creatures living, should we +ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble +sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their +sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished +myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We +are born to do benefits: and what better or +properer can we can our own than the riches of our +friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have +so many, like brothers, commanding one another's +fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born! +Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to +forget their faults, I drink to you. + +APEMANTUS +Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. + +Second Lord +Joy had the like conception in our eyes +And at that instant like a babe sprung up. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. + +Third Lord +I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. + +APEMANTUS +Much! + +Tucket, within + +TIMON +What means that trump? + +Enter a Servant + +How now? + +Servant +Please you, my lord, there are certain +ladies most desirous of admittance. + +TIMON +Ladies! what are their wills? + +Servant +There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which +bears that office, to signify their pleasures. + +TIMON +I pray, let them be admitted. + +Enter Cupid + +Cupid +Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all +That of his bounties taste! The five best senses +Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely +To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear, +Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise; +They only now come but to feast thine eyes. + +TIMON +They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance: +Music, make their welcome! + +Exit Cupid + +First Lord +You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved. + +Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing + +APEMANTUS +Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! +They dance! they are mad women. +Like madness is the glory of this life. +As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. +We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves; +And spend our flatteries, to drink those men +Upon whose age we void it up again, +With poisonous spite and envy. +Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? +Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves +Of their friends' gift? +I should fear those that dance before me now +Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; +Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease + +TIMON +You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, +Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, +Which was not half so beautiful and kind; +You have added worth unto 't and lustre, +And entertain'd me with mine own device; +I am to thank you for 't. + +First Lady +My lord, you take us even at the best. + +APEMANTUS +'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold +taking, I doubt me. + +TIMON +Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you: +Please you to dispose yourselves. + +All Ladies +Most thankfully, my lord. + +Exeunt Cupid and Ladies + +TIMON +Flavius. + +FLAVIUS +My lord? + +TIMON +The little casket bring me hither. + +FLAVIUS +Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! +There is no crossing him in 's humour; + +Aside + +Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should, +When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could. +'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, +That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. + +Exit + +First Lord +Where be our men? + +Servant +Here, my lord, in readiness. + +Second Lord +Our horses! + +Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket + +TIMON +O my friends, +I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord, +I must entreat you, honour me so much +As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it, +Kind my lord. + +First Lord +I am so far already in your gifts,-- + +All +So are we all. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate +Newly alighted, and come to visit you. + +TIMON +They are fairly welcome. + +FLAVIUS +I beseech your honour, +Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. + +TIMON +Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee: +I prithee, let's be provided to show them +entertainment. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] I scarce know how. + +Enter a Second Servant + +Second Servant +May it please your honour, Lord Lucius, +Out of his free love, hath presented to you +Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. + +TIMON +I shall accept them fairly; let the presents +Be worthily entertain'd. + +Enter a third Servant + +How now! what news? + +Third Servant +Please you, my lord, that honourable +gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company +to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour +two brace of greyhounds. + +TIMON +I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, +Not without fair reward. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] What will this come to? +He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, +And all out of an empty coffer: +Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, +To show him what a beggar his heart is, +Being of no power to make his wishes good: +His promises fly so beyond his state +That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes +For every word: he is so kind that he now +Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books. +Well, would I were gently put out of office +Before I were forced out! +Happier is he that has no friend to feed +Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. +I bleed inwardly for my lord. + +Exit + +TIMON +You do yourselves +Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: +Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. + +Second Lord +With more than common thanks I will receive it. + +Third Lord +O, he's the very soul of bounty! + +TIMON +And now I remember, my lord, you gave +Good words the other day of a bay courser +I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it. + +Second Lord +O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. + +TIMON +You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man +Can justly praise but what he does affect: +I weigh my friend's affection with mine own; +I'll tell you true. I'll call to you. + +All Lords +O, none so welcome. + +TIMON +I take all and your several visitations +So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; +Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, +And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades, +Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; +It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living +Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast +Lie in a pitch'd field. + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, defiled land, my lord. + +First Lord +We are so virtuously bound-- + +TIMON +And so +Am I to you. + +Second Lord +So infinitely endear'd-- + +TIMON +All to you. Lights, more lights! + +First Lord +The best of happiness, +Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon! + +TIMON +Ready for his friends. + +Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON + +APEMANTUS +What a coil's here! +Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! +I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums +That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs: +Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs, +Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies. + +TIMON +Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be +good to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too, +there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then +thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, +Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in +paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and +vain-glories? + +TIMON +Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am +sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come +with better music. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +So: +Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then: +I'll lock thy heaven from thee. +O, that men's ears should be +To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Senator's house. + +Enter Senator, with papers in his hand +Senator +And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore +He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, +Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion +Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not. +If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, +And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. +If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more +Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, +Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight, +And able horses. No porter at his gate, +But rather one that smiles and still invites +All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason +Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! +Caphis, I say! + +Enter CAPHIS + +CAPHIS +Here, sir; what is your pleasure? + +Senator +Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon; +Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased +With slight denial, nor then silenced when-- +'Commend me to your master'--and the cap +Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him, +My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn +Out of mine own; his days and times are past +And my reliances on his fracted dates +Have smit my credit: I love and honour him, +But must not break my back to heal his finger; +Immediate are my needs, and my relief +Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words, +But find supply immediate. Get you gone: +Put on a most importunate aspect, +A visage of demand; for, I do fear, +When every feather sticks in his own wing, +Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, +Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone. + +CAPHIS +I go, sir. + +Senator +'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you, +And have the dates in contempt. + +CAPHIS +I will, sir. + +Senator +Go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand +FLAVIUS +No care, no stop! so senseless of expense, +That he will neither know how to maintain it, +Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account +How things go from him, nor resumes no care +Of what is to continue: never mind +Was to be so unwise, to be so kind. +What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel: +I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. +Fie, fie, fie, fie! + +Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro + +CAPHIS +Good even, Varro: what, +You come for money? +Varro's Servant Is't not your business too? + +CAPHIS +It is: and yours too, Isidore? +Isidore's Servant It is so. + +CAPHIS +Would we were all discharged! +Varro's Servant I fear it. + +CAPHIS +Here comes the lord. + +Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, & c + +TIMON +So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again, +My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will? + +CAPHIS +My lord, here is a note of certain dues. + +TIMON +Dues! Whence are you? + +CAPHIS +Of Athens here, my lord. + +TIMON +Go to my steward. + +CAPHIS +Please it your lordship, he hath put me off +To the succession of new days this month: +My master is awaked by great occasion +To call upon his own, and humbly prays you +That with your other noble parts you'll suit +In giving him his right. + +TIMON +Mine honest friend, +I prithee, but repair to me next morning. + +CAPHIS +Nay, good my lord,-- + +TIMON +Contain thyself, good friend. +Varro's Servant One Varro's servant, my good lord,-- +Isidore's Servant From Isidore; +He humbly prays your speedy payment. + +CAPHIS +If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-- +Varro's Servant 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past. +Isidore's Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord; +And I am sent expressly to your lordship. + +TIMON +Give me breath. +I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on; +I'll wait upon you instantly. + +Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords + +To FLAVIUS + +Come hither: pray you, +How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd +With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds, +And the detention of long-since-due debts, +Against my honour? + +FLAVIUS +Please you, gentlemen, +The time is unagreeable to this business: +Your importunacy cease till after dinner, +That I may make his lordship understand +Wherefore you are not paid. + +TIMON +Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd. + +Exit + +FLAVIUS +Pray, draw near. + +Exit + +Enter APEMANTUS and Fool + +CAPHIS +Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: +let's ha' some sport with 'em. +Varro's Servant Hang him, he'll abuse us. +Isidore's Servant A plague upon him, dog! +Varro's Servant How dost, fool? + +APEMANTUS +Dost dialogue with thy shadow? +Varro's Servant I speak not to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No,'tis to thyself. + +To the Fool + +Come away. +Isidore's Servant There's the fool hangs on your back already. + +APEMANTUS +No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet. + +CAPHIS +Where's the fool now? + +APEMANTUS +He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and +usurers' men! bawds between gold and want! + +All Servants +What are we, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Asses. + +All Servants +Why? + +APEMANTUS +That you ask me what you are, and do not know +yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool. + +Fool +How do you, gentlemen? + +All Servants +Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress? + +Fool +She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens +as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! + +APEMANTUS +Good! gramercy. + +Enter Page + +Fool +Look you, here comes my mistress' page. + +Page +[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you +in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer +thee profitably. + +Page +Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of +these letters: I know not which is which. + +APEMANTUS +Canst not read? + +Page +No. + +APEMANTUS +There will little learning die then, that day thou +art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to +Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't +die a bawd. + +Page +Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a +dog's death. Answer not; I am gone. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with +you to Lord Timon's. + +Fool +Will you leave me there? + +APEMANTUS +If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? + +All Servants +Ay; would they served us! + +APEMANTUS +So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief. + +Fool +Are you three usurers' men? + +All Servants +Ay, fool. + +Fool +I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my +mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come +to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and +go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house +merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? +Varro's Servant I could render one. + +APEMANTUS +Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster +and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be +no less esteemed. +Varro's Servant What is a whoremaster, fool? + +Fool +A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. +'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord; +sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, +with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is +very often like a knight; and, generally, in all +shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore +to thirteen, this spirit walks in. +Varro's Servant Thou art not altogether a fool. + +Fool +Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as +I have, so much wit thou lackest. + +APEMANTUS +That answer might have become Apemantus. + +All Servants +Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon. + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +APEMANTUS +Come with me, fool, come. + +Fool +I do not always follow lover, elder brother and +woman; sometime the philosopher. + +Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool + +FLAVIUS +Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon. + +Exeunt Servants + +TIMON +You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time +Had you not fully laid my state before me, +That I might so have rated my expense, +As I had leave of means? + +FLAVIUS +You would not hear me, +At many leisures I proposed. + +TIMON +Go to: +Perchance some single vantages you took. +When my indispos ition put you back: +And that unaptness made your minister, +Thus to excuse yourself. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, +At many times I brought in my accounts, +Laid them before you; you would throw them off, +And say, you found them in mine honesty. +When, for some trifling present, you have bid me +Return so much, I have shook my head and wept; +Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you +To hold your hand more close: I did endure +Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have +Prompted you in the ebb of your estate +And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, +Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time-- +The greatest of your having lacks a half +To pay your present debts. + +TIMON +Let all my land be sold. + +FLAVIUS +'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone; +And what remains will hardly stop the mouth +Of present dues: the future comes apace: +What shall defend the interim? and at length +How goes our reckoning? + +TIMON +To Lacedaemon did my land extend. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, the world is but a word: +Were it all yours to give it in a breath, +How quickly were it gone! + +TIMON +You tell me true. + +FLAVIUS +If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, +Call me before the exactest auditors +And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, +When all our offices have been oppress'd +With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept +With drunken spilth of wine, when every room +Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy, +I have retired me to a wasteful cock, +And set mine eyes at flow. + +TIMON +Prithee, no more. + +FLAVIUS +Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! +How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants +This night englutted! Who is not Timon's? +What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is +Lord Timon's? +Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! +Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, +The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: +Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, +These flies are couch'd. + +TIMON +Come, sermon me no further: +No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; +Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. +Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack, +To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart; +If I would broach the vessels of my love, +And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, +Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use +As I can bid thee speak. + +FLAVIUS +Assurance bless your thoughts! + +TIMON +And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd, +That I account them blessings; for by these +Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you +Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends. +Within there! Flaminius! Servilius! + +Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants + +Servants +My lord? my lord? + +TIMON +I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius; +to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour +to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their +loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have +found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let +the request be fifty talents. + +FLAMINIUS +As you have said, my lord. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum! + +TIMON +Go you, sir, to the senators-- +Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have +Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant +A thousand talents to me. + +FLAVIUS +I have been bold-- +For that I knew it the most general way-- +To them to use your signet and your name; +But they do shake their heads, and I am here +No richer in return. + +TIMON +Is't true? can't be? + +FLAVIUS +They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, +That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot +Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,-- +But yet they could have wish'd--they know not-- +Something hath been amiss--a noble nature +May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;-- +And so, intending other serious matters, +After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, +With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods +They froze me into silence. + +TIMON +You gods, reward them! +Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows +Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: +Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; +'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; +And nature, as it grows again toward earth, +Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. + +To a Servant + +Go to Ventidius. + +To FLAVIUS + +Prithee, be not sad, +Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak. +No blame belongs to thee. + +To Servant + +Ventidius lately +Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd +Into a great estate: when he was poor, +Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends, +I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me; +Bid him suppose some good necessity +Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd +With those five talents. + +Exit Servant + +To FLAVIUS + +That had, give't these fellows +To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think, +That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink. + +FLAVIUS +I would I could not think it: that thought is +bounty's foe; +Being free itself, it thinks all others so. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in Lucullus' house. + +FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him +Servant +I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you. + +FLAMINIUS +I thank you, sir. + +Enter LUCULLUS + +Servant +Here's my lord. + +LUCULLUS +[Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I +warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver +basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest +Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir. +Fill me some wine. + +Exit Servants + +And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted +gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord +and master? + +FLAMINIUS +His health is well sir. + +LUCULLUS +I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and +what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius? + +FLAMINIUS +'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my +lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to +supply; who, having great and instant occasion to +use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to +furnish him, nothing doubting your present +assistance therein. + +LUCULLUS +La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas, +good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not +keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' +dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to +supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less, +and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning +by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty +is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get +him from't. + +Re-enter Servant, with wine + +Servant +Please your lordship, here is the wine. + +LUCULLUS +Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee. + +FLAMINIUS +Your lordship speaks your pleasure. + +LUCULLUS +I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt +spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what +belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if +the time use thee well: good parts in thee. + +To Servant + +Get you gone, sirrah. + +Exit Servant + +Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a +bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou +knowest well enough, although thou comest to me, +that this is no time to lend money, especially upon +bare friendship, without security. Here's three +solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say +thou sawest me not. Fare thee well. + +FLAMINIUS +Is't possible the world should so much differ, +And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, +To him that worships thee! + +Throwing the money back + +LUCULLUS +Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master. + +Exit + +FLAMINIUS +May these add to the number that may scald thee! +Let moulten coin be thy damnation, +Thou disease of a friend, and not himself! +Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, +It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, +I feel master's passion! this slave, +Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him: +Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, +When he is turn'd to poison? +O, may diseases only work upon't! +And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature +Which my lord paid for, be of any power +To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! + +Exit + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers +LUCILIUS +Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and +an honourable gentleman. + +First Stranger +We know him for no less, though we are but strangers +to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and +which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's +happy hours are done and past, and his estate +shrinks from him. + +LUCILIUS +Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money. + +Second Stranger +But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago, +one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow +so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and +showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied. + +LUCILIUS +How! + +Second Stranger +I tell you, denied, my lord. + +LUCILIUS +What a strange case was that! now, before the gods, +I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man! +there was very little honour showed in't. For my own +part, I must needs confess, I have received some +small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels +and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his; +yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should +ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +SERVILIUS +See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; +I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,-- + +To LUCIUS + +LUCILIUS +Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: +commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very +exquisite friend. + +SERVILIUS +May it please your honour, my lord hath sent-- + +LUCILIUS +Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to +that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank +him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now? + +SERVILIUS +Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; +requesting your lordship to supply his instant use +with so many talents. + +LUCILIUS +I know his lordship is but merry with me; +He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. + +SERVILIUS +But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. +If his occasion were not virtuous, +I should not urge it half so faithfully. + +LUCILIUS +Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? + +SERVILIUS +Upon my soul,'tis true, sir. + +LUCILIUS +What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself +against such a good time, when I might ha' shown +myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I +should purchase the day before for a little part, +and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now, +before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more +beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon +myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would +not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now. +Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I +hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me, +because I have no power to be kind: and tell him +this from me, I count it one of my greatest +afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an +honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you +befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him? + +SERVILIUS +Yes, sir, I shall. + +LUCILIUS +I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. + +Exit SERVILIUS + +True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed; +And he that's once denied will hardly speed. + +Exit + +First Stranger +Do you observe this, Hostilius? + +Second Stranger +Ay, too well. + +First Stranger +Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the +same piece +Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him +His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in +My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father, +And kept his credit with his purse, +Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money +Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks, +But Timon's silver treads upon his lip; +And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man +When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-- +He does deny him, in respect of his, +What charitable men afford to beggars. + +Third Stranger +Religion groans at it. + +First Stranger +For mine own part, +I never tasted Timon in my life, +Nor came any of his bounties over me, +To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest, +For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue +And honourable carriage, +Had his necessity made use of me, +I would have put my wealth into donation, +And the best half should have return'd to him, +So much I love his heart: but, I perceive, +Men must learn now with pity to dispense; +For policy sits above conscience. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Sempronius' house. + +Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's +SEMPRONIUS +Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove +all others? +He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; +And now Ventidius is wealthy too, +Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these +Owe their estates unto him. + +Servant +My lord, +They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for +They have au denied him. + +SEMPRONIUS +How! have they denied him? +Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him? +And does he send to me? Three? hum! +It shows but little love or judgment in him: +Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like +physicians, +Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me? +Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him, +That might have known my place: I see no sense for't, +But his occasion might have woo'd me first; +For, in my conscience, I was the first man +That e'er received gift from him: +And does he think so backwardly of me now, +That I'll requite its last? No: +So it may prove an argument of laughter +To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool. +I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum, +Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake; +I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return, +And with their faint reply this answer join; +Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. + +Exit + +Servant +Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The +devil knew not what he did when he made man +politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot +think but, in the end, the villainies of man will +set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to +appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked, +like those that under hot ardent zeal would set +whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his +politic love. +This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, +Save only the gods: now his friends are dead, +Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards +Many a bounteous year must be employ'd +Now to guard sure their master. +And this is all a liberal course allows; +Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out +Varro's + +First Servant +Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. + +TITUS +The like to you kind Varro. + +HORTENSIUS +Lucius! +What, do we meet together? +Lucilius' Servant Ay, and I think +One business does command us all; for mine Is money. + +TITUS +So is theirs and ours. + +Enter PHILOTUS + +Lucilius' Servant And Sir Philotus too! + +PHILOTUS +Good day at once. +Lucilius' Servant Welcome, good brother. +What do you think the hour? + +PHILOTUS +Labouring for nine. +Lucilius' Servant So much? + +PHILOTUS +Is not my lord seen yet? +Lucilius' Servant Not yet. + +PHILOTUS +I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him: +You must consider that a prodigal course +Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable. +I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse; +That is one may reach deep enough, and yet +Find little. + +PHILOTUS +I am of your fear for that. + +TITUS +I'll show you how to observe a strange event. +Your lord sends now for money. + +HORTENSIUS +Most true, he does. + +TITUS +And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, +For which I wait for money. + +HORTENSIUS +It is against my heart. +Lucilius' Servant Mark, how strange it shows, +Timon in this should pay more than he owes: +And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels, +And send for money for 'em. + +HORTENSIUS +I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness: +I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, +And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. +Varro's + +First Servant +Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand mine. +Varro's + +First Servant +'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun, +Your master's confidence was above mine; +Else, surely, his had equall'd. +Enter FLAMINIUS. + +TITUS +One of Lord Timon's men. +Lucilius' Servant Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to +come forth? + +FLAMINIUS +No, indeed, he is not. + +TITUS +We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. + +FLAMINIUS +I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent. + +Exit + +Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled + +Lucilius' Servant Ha! is not that his steward muffled so? +He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him. + +TITUS +Do you hear, sir? +Varro's + +Second Servant +By your leave, sir,-- + +FLAVIUS +What do ye ask of me, my friend? + +TITUS +We wait for certain money here, sir. + +FLAVIUS +Ay, +If money were as certain as your waiting, +'Twere sure enough. +Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills, +When your false masters eat of my lord's meat? +Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts +And take down the interest into their +gluttonous maws. +You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up; +Let me pass quietly: +Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end; +I have no more to reckon, he to spend. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but this answer will not serve. + +FLAVIUS +If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you; +For you serve knaves. + +Exit + +Varro's + +First Servant +How! what does his cashiered worship mutter? +Varro's + +Second Servant +No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge +enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no +house to put his head in? such may rail against +great buildings. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +TITUS +O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer. + +SERVILIUS +If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some +other hour, I should derive much from't; for, +take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to +discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him; +he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber. +Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick: +And, if it be so far beyond his health, +Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts, +And make a clear way to the gods. + +SERVILIUS +Good gods! + +TITUS +We cannot take this for answer, sir. + +FLAMINIUS +[Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! + +Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following + +TIMON +What, are my doors opposed against my passage? +Have I been ever free, and must my house +Be my retentive enemy, my gaol? +The place which I have feasted, does it now, +Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? +Lucilius' Servant Put in now, Titus. + +TITUS +My lord, here is my bill. +Lucilius' Servant Here's mine. + +HORTENSIUS +And mine, my lord. +Both +Varro's Servants And ours, my lord. + +PHILOTUS +All our bills. + +TIMON +Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle. +Lucilius' Servant Alas, my lord,- + +TIMON +Cut my heart in sums. + +TITUS +Mine, fifty talents. + +TIMON +Tell out my blood. +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand crowns, my lord. + +TIMON +Five thousand drops pays that. +What yours?--and yours? +Varro's + +First Servant +My lord,-- +Varro's + +Second Servant +My lord,-- + +TIMON +Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! + +Exit + +HORTENSIUS +'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps +at their money: these debts may well be called +desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. + +Exeunt + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +TIMON +They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. +Creditors? devils! + +FLAVIUS +My dear lord,-- + +TIMON +What if it should be so? + +FLAVIUS +My lord,-- + +TIMON +I'll have it so. My steward! + +FLAVIUS +Here, my lord. + +TIMON +So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, +Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: +All, sirrah, all: +I'll once more feast the rascals. + +FLAVIUS +O my lord, +You only speak from your distracted soul; +There is not so much left, to furnish out +A moderate table. + +TIMON +Be't not in thy care; go, +I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide +Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting. +First Senator +My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's +Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die: +Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. + +Second Senator +Most true; the law shall bruise him. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants + +ALCIBIADES +Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! + +First Senator +Now, captain? + +ALCIBIADES +I am an humble suitor to your virtues; +For pity is the virtue of the law, +And none but tyrants use it cruelly. +It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy +Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, +Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth +To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't. +He is a man, setting his fate aside, +Of comely virtues: +Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-- +An honour in him which buys out his fault-- +But with a noble fury and fair spirit, +Seeing his reputation touch'd to death, +He did oppose his foe: +And with such sober and unnoted passion +He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, +As if he had but proved an argument. + +First Senator +You undergo too strict a paradox, +Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: +Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd +To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling +Upon the head of valour; which indeed +Is valour misbegot and came into the world +When sects and factions were newly born: +He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer +The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs +His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, +carelessly, +And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, +To bring it into danger. +If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, +What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill! + +ALCIBIADES +My lord,-- + +First Senator +You cannot make gross sins look clear: +To revenge is no valour, but to bear. + +ALCIBIADES +My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, +If I speak like a captain. +Why do fond men expose themselves to battle, +And not endure all threats? sleep upon't, +And let the foes quietly cut their throats, +Without repugnancy? If there be +Such valour in the bearing, what make we +Abroad? why then, women are more valiant +That stay at home, if bearing carry it, +And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon +Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, +If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, +As you are great, be pitifully good: +Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? +To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust; +But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just. +To be in anger is impiety; +But who is man that is not angry? +Weigh but the crime with this. + +Second Senator +You breathe in vain. + +ALCIBIADES +In vain! his service done +At Lacedaemon and Byzantium +Were a sufficient briber for his life. + +First Senator +What's that? + +ALCIBIADES +I say, my lords, he has done fair service, +And slain in fight many of your enemies: +How full of valour did he bear himself +In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! + +Second Senator +He has made too much plenty with 'em; +He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often +Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner: +If there were no foes, that were enough +To overcome him: in that beastly fury +He has been known to commit outrages, +And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us, +His days are foul and his drink dangerous. + +First Senator +He dies. + +ALCIBIADES +Hard fate! he might have died in war. +My lords, if not for any parts in him-- +Though his right arm might purchase his own time +And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you, +Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both: +And, for I know your reverend ages love +Security, I'll pawn my victories, all +My honours to you, upon his good returns. +If by this crime he owes the law his life, +Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore +For law is strict, and war is nothing more. + +First Senator +We are for law: he dies; urge it no more, +On height of our displeasure: friend or brother, +He forfeits his own blood that spills another. + +ALCIBIADES +Must it be so? it must not be. My lords, +I do beseech you, know me. + +Second Senator +How! + +ALCIBIADES +Call me to your remembrances. + +Third Senator +What! + +ALCIBIADES +I cannot think but your age has forgot me; +It could not else be, I should prove so base, +To sue, and be denied such common grace: +My wounds ache at you. + +First Senator +Do you dare our anger? +'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect; +We banish thee for ever. + +ALCIBIADES +Banish me! +Banish your dotage; banish usury, +That makes the senate ugly. + +First Senator +If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee, +Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell +our spirit, +He shall be executed presently. + +Exeunt Senators + +ALCIBIADES +Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live +Only in bone, that none may look on you! +I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes, +While they have told their money and let out +Their coin upon large interest, I myself +Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? +Is this the balsam that the usuring senate +Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment! +It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd; +It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, +That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up +My discontented troops, and lay for hearts. +'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds; +Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. + +Exit + +SCENE VI. The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Music. Tables set out: Servants attending. Enter divers Lords, Senators and others, at several doors +First Lord +The good time of day to you, sir. + +Second Lord +I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord +did but try us this other day. + +First Lord +Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we +encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as +he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. + +Second Lord +It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. + +First Lord +I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest +inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me +to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and +I must needs appear. + +Second Lord +In like manner was I in debt to my importunate +business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am +sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my +provision was out. + +First Lord +I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all +things go. + +Second Lord +Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of +you? + +First Lord +A thousand pieces. + +Second Lord +A thousand pieces! + +First Lord +What of you? + +Second Lord +He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes. + +Enter TIMON and Attendants + +TIMON +With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you? + +First Lord +Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship. + +Second Lord +The swallow follows not summer more willing than we +your lordship. + +TIMON +[Aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter; such +summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not +recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the +music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the +trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently. + +First Lord +I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship +that I returned you an empty messenger. + +TIMON +O, sir, let it not trouble you. + +Second Lord +My noble lord,-- + +TIMON +Ah, my good friend, what cheer? + +Second Lord +My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame, +that, when your lordship this other day sent to me, +I was so unfortunate a beggar. + +TIMON +Think not on 't, sir. + +Second Lord +If you had sent but two hours before,-- + +TIMON +Let it not cumber your better remembrance. + +The banquet brought in + +Come, bring in all together. + +Second Lord +All covered dishes! + +First Lord +Royal cheer, I warrant you. + +Third Lord +Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield +it. + +First Lord +How do you? What's the news? + +Third Lord +Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it? + +First Lord Second Lord +Alcibiades banished! + +Third Lord +'Tis so, be sure of it. + +First Lord +How! how! + +Second Lord +I pray you, upon what? + +TIMON +My worthy friends, will you draw near? + +Third Lord +I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward. + +Second Lord +This is the old man still. + +Third Lord +Will 't hold? will 't hold? + +Second Lord +It does: but time will--and so-- + +Third Lord +I do conceive. + +TIMON +Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to +the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all +places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let +the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place: +sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. +You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with +thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves +praised: but reserve still to give, lest your +deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that +one need not lend to another; for, were your +godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the +gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man +that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without +a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at +the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The +rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens, +together with the common lag of people--what is +amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for +destruction. For these my present friends, as they +are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to +nothing are they welcome. +Uncover, dogs, and lap. + +The dishes are uncovered and seen to be full of warm water + +Some Speak +What does his lordship mean? + +Some Others +I know not. + +TIMON +May you a better feast never behold, +You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water +Is your perfection. This is Timon's last; +Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, +Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces +Your reeking villany. + +Throwing the water in their faces + +Live loathed and long, +Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, +Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, +You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies, +Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! +Of man and beast the infinite malady +Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go? +Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;-- +Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. + +Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out + +What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast, +Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. +Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be +Of Timon man and all humanity! + +Exit + +Re-enter the Lords, Senators, & c + +First Lord +How now, my lords! + +Second Lord +Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury? + +Third Lord +Push! did you see my cap? + +Fourth Lord +I have lost my gown. + +First Lord +He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. +He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has +beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel? + +Third Lord +Did you see my cap? + +Second Lord +Here 'tis. + +Fourth Lord +Here lies my gown. + +First Lord +Let's make no stay. + +Second Lord +Lord Timon's mad. + +Third Lord +I feel 't upon my bones. + +Fourth Lord +One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens. + +Enter TIMON +TIMON +Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, +That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, +And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! +Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, +Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, +And minister in their steads! to general filths +Convert o' the instant, green virginity, +Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; +Rather than render back, out with your knives, +And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! +Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, +And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; +Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, +pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, +With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, +Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, +Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, +Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, +Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, +Decline to your confounding contraries, +And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, +Your potent and infectious fevers heap +On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, +Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt +As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty +Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, +That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, +And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, +Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop +Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, +at their society, as their friendship, may +merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, +But nakedness, thou detestable town! +Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! +Timon will to the woods; where he shall find +The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. +The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all-- +The Athenians both within and out that wall! +And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow +To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants +First Servant +Hear you, master steward, where's our master? +Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining? + +FLAVIUS +Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? +Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, +I am as poor as you. + +First Servant +Such a house broke! +So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not +One friend to take his fortune by the arm, +And go along with him! + +Second Servant +As we do turn our backs +From our companion thrown into his grave, +So his familiars to his buried fortunes +Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, +Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self, +A dedicated beggar to the air, +With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, +Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows. + +Enter other Servants + +FLAVIUS +All broken implements of a ruin'd house. + +Third Servant +Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery; +That see I by our faces; we are fellows still, +Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark, +And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, +Hearing the surges threat: we must all part +Into this sea of air. + +FLAVIUS +Good fellows all, +The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. +Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake, +Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say, +As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes, +'We have seen better days.' Let each take some; +Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: +Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. + +Servants embrace, and part several ways + +O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! +Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, +Since riches point to misery and contempt? +Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live +But in a dream of friendship? +To have his pomp and all what state compounds +But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? +Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, +Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood, +When man's worst sin is, he does too much good! +Who, then, dares to be half so kind again? +For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. +My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed, +Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes +Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! +He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat +Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to +Supply his life, or that which can command it. +I'll follow and inquire him out: +I'll ever serve his mind with my best will; +Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore. + +Enter TIMON, from the cave +O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth +Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb +Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb, +Whose procreation, residence, and birth, +Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes; +The greater scorns the lesser: not nature, +To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, +But by contempt of nature. +Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; +The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, +The beggar native honour. +It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, +The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, +In purity of manhood stand upright, +And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be, +So are they all; for every grise of fortune +Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate +Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique; +There's nothing level in our cursed natures, +But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd +All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! +His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: +Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! + +Digging + +Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate +With thy most operant poison! What is here? +Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, +I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! +Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, +Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. +Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this +Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, +Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: +This yellow slave +Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed, +Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves +And give them title, knee and approbation +With senators on the bench: this is it +That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; +She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores +Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices +To the April day again. Come, damned earth, +Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds +Among the route of nations, I will make thee +Do thy right nature. + +March afar off + +Ha! a drum ? Thou'rt quick, +But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, +When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. +Nay, stay thou out for earnest. + +Keeping some gold + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA + +ALCIBIADES +What art thou there? speak. + +TIMON +A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, +For showing me again the eyes of man! + +ALCIBIADES +What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, +That art thyself a man? + +TIMON +I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. +For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, +That I might love thee something. + +ALCIBIADES +I know thee well; +But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. + +TIMON +I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, +I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; +With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules: +Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; +Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine +Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, +For all her cherubim look. + +PHRYNIA +Thy lips rot off! + +TIMON +I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns +To thine own lips again. + +ALCIBIADES +How came the noble Timon to this change? + +TIMON +As the moon does, by wanting light to give: +But then renew I could not, like the moon; +There were no suns to borrow of. + +ALCIBIADES +Noble Timon, +What friendship may I do thee? + +TIMON +None, but to +Maintain my opinion. + +ALCIBIADES +What is it, Timon? + +TIMON +Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou +wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art +a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for +thou art a man! + +ALCIBIADES +I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. + +TIMON +Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. + +ALCIBIADES +I see them now; then was a blessed time. + +TIMON +As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. + +TIMANDRA +Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world +Voiced so regardfully? + +TIMON +Art thou Timandra? + +TIMANDRA +Yes. + +TIMON +Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; +Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. +Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves +For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth +To the tub-fast and the diet. + +TIMANDRA +Hang thee, monster! + +ALCIBIADES +Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits +Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. +I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, +The want whereof doth daily make revolt +In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved, +How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, +Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, +But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-- + +TIMON +I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. + +ALCIBIADES +I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. + +TIMON +How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? +I had rather be alone. + +ALCIBIADES +Why, fare thee well: +Here is some gold for thee. + +TIMON +Keep it, I cannot eat it. + +ALCIBIADES +When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-- + +TIMON +Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, Timon, and have cause. + +TIMON +The gods confound them all in thy conquest; +And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! + +ALCIBIADES +Why me, Timon? + +TIMON +That, by killing of villains, +Thou wast born to conquer my country. +Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; +Be as a planetary plague, when Jove +Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison +In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: +Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; +He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; +It is her habit only that is honest, +Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek +Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, +That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, +Are not within the leaf of pity writ, +But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, +Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; +Think it a bastard, whom the oracle +Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, +And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; +Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; +Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, +Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, +Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: +Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, +Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. + +ALCIBIADES +Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou +givest me, +Not all thy counsel. + +TIMON +Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse +upon thee! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? + +TIMON +Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, +And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, +Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable, +Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear +Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues +The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths, +I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still; +And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, +Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; +Let your close fire predominate his smoke, +And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months, +Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs +With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, +No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still; +Paint till a horse may mire upon your face, +A pox of wrinkles! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Well, more gold: what then? +Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. + +TIMON +Consumptions sow +In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, +And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, +That he may never more false title plead, +Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, +That scolds against the quality of flesh, +And not believes himself: down with the nose, +Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away +Of him that, his particular to foresee, +Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate +ruffians bald; +And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war +Derive some pain from you: plague all; +That your activity may defeat and quell +The source of all erection. There's more gold: +Do you damn others, and let this damn you, +And ditches grave you all! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. + +TIMON +More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. + +ALCIBIADES +Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: +If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. + +TIMON +If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. + +ALCIBIADES +I never did thee harm. + +TIMON +Yes, thou spokest well of me. + +ALCIBIADES +Call'st thou that harm? + +TIMON +Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take +Thy beagles with thee. + +ALCIBIADES +We but offend him. Strike! + +Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA + +TIMON +That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, +Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, + +Digging + +Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, +Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, +Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd, +Engenders the black toad and adder blue, +The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm, +With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven +Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; +Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, +From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! +Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, +Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! +Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; +Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face +Hath to the marbled mansion all above +Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!-- +Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; +Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts +And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, +That from it all consideration slips! + +Enter APEMANTUS + +More man? plague, plague! + +APEMANTUS +I was directed hither: men report +Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. + +TIMON +'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, +Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee! + +APEMANTUS +This is in thee a nature but infected; +A poor unmanly melancholy sprung +From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place? +This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? +Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; +Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot +That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, +By putting on the cunning of a carper. +Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive +By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, +And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, +Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, +And call it excellent: thou wast told thus; +Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome +To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just +That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, +Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. + +TIMON +Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself. + +APEMANTUS +Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; +A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st +That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, +Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees, +That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, +And skip where thou point'st out? will the +cold brook, +Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, +To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures +Whose naked natures live in an the spite +Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, +To the conflicting elements exposed, +Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; +O, thou shalt find-- + +TIMON +A fool of thee: depart. + +APEMANTUS +I love thee better now than e'er I did. + +TIMON +I hate thee worse. + +APEMANTUS +Why? + +TIMON +Thou flatter'st misery. + +APEMANTUS +I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff. + +TIMON +Why dost thou seek me out? + +APEMANTUS +To vex thee. + +TIMON +Always a villain's office or a fool's. +Dost please thyself in't? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +What! a knave too? + +APEMANTUS +If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on +To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou +Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, +Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery +Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before: +The one is filling still, never complete; +The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, +Hath a distracted and most wretched being, +Worse than the worst, content. +Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. + +TIMON +Not by his breath that is more miserable. +Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm +With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog. +Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded +The sweet degrees that this brief world affords +To such as may the passive drugs of it +Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself +In general riot; melted down thy youth +In different beds of lust; and never learn'd +The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd +The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, +Who had the world as my confectionary, +The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men +At duty, more than I could frame employment, +That numberless upon me stuck as leaves +Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush +Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare +For every storm that blows: I, to bear this, +That never knew but better, is some burden: +Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time +Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? +They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? +If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, +Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff +To some she beggar and compounded thee +Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone! +If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, +Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. + +APEMANTUS +Art thou proud yet? + +TIMON +Ay, that I am not thee. + +APEMANTUS +I, that I was +No prodigal. + +TIMON +I, that I am one now: +Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, +I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. +That the whole life of Athens were in this! +Thus would I eat it. + +Eating a root + +APEMANTUS +Here; I will mend thy feast. + +Offering him a root + +TIMON +First mend my company, take away thyself. + +APEMANTUS +So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. + +TIMON +'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; +if not, I would it were. + +APEMANTUS +What wouldst thou have to Athens? + +TIMON +Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, +Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. + +APEMANTUS +Here is no use for gold. + +TIMON +The best and truest; +For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. + +APEMANTUS +Where liest o' nights, Timon? + +TIMON +Under that's above me. +Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat +it. + +TIMON +Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! + +APEMANTUS +Where wouldst thou send it? + +TIMON +To sauce thy dishes. + +APEMANTUS +The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the +extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt +and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much +curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art +despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for +thee, eat it. + +TIMON +On what I hate I feed not. + +APEMANTUS +Dost hate a medlar? + +TIMON +Ay, though it look like thee. + +APEMANTUS +An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst +have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou +ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? + +TIMON +Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou +ever know beloved? + +APEMANTUS +Myself. + +TIMON +I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a +dog. + +APEMANTUS +What things in the world canst thou nearest compare +to thy flatterers? + +TIMON +Women nearest; but men, men are the things +themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, +Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? + +APEMANTUS +Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. + +TIMON +Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of +men, and remain a beast with the beasts? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, Timon. + +TIMON +A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' +attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would +beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would +eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would +suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by +the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would +torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a +breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy +greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst +hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the +unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and +make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert +thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse: +wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the +leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to +the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on +thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy +defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that +were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art +thou already, that seest not thy loss in +transformation! + +APEMANTUS +If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou +mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of +Athens is become a forest of beasts. + +TIMON +How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? + +APEMANTUS +Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of +company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it +and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll +see thee again. + +TIMON +When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be +welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. + +TIMON +Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! + +APEMANTUS +A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse. + +TIMON +All villains that do stand by thee are pure. + +APEMANTUS +There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. + +TIMON +If I name thee. +I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. + +APEMANTUS +I would my tongue could rot them off! + +TIMON +Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! +Choler does kill me that thou art alive; +I swound to see thee. + +APEMANTUS +Would thou wouldst burst! + +TIMON +Away, +Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose +A stone by thee. + +Throws a stone at him + +APEMANTUS +Beast! + +TIMON +Slave! + +APEMANTUS +Toad! + +TIMON +Rogue, rogue, rogue! +I am sick of this false world, and will love nought +But even the mere necessities upon 't. +Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; +Lie where the light foam the sea may beat +Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, +That death in me at others' lives may laugh. + +To the gold + +O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce +'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler +Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! +Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, +Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow +That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, +That solder'st close impossibilities, +And makest them kiss! that speak'st with +every tongue, +To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! +Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue +Set them into confounding odds, that beasts +May have the world in empire! + +APEMANTUS +Would 'twere so! +But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold: +Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. + +TIMON +Throng'd to! + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Thy back, I prithee. + +APEMANTUS +Live, and love thy misery. + +TIMON +Long live so, and so die. + +Exit APEMANTUS + +I am quit. +Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. + +Enter Banditti + +First Bandit +Where should he have this gold? It is some poor +fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the +mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his +friends, drove him into this melancholy. + +Second Bandit +It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. + +Third Bandit +Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not +for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously +reserve it, how shall's get it? + +Second Bandit +True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. + +First Bandit +Is not this he? + +Banditti +Where? + +Second Bandit +'Tis his description. + +Third Bandit +He; I know him. + +Banditti +Save thee, Timon. + +TIMON +Now, thieves? + +Banditti +Soldiers, not thieves. + +TIMON +Both too; and women's sons. + +Banditti +We are not thieves, but men that much do want. + +TIMON +Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. +Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; +Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; +The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; +The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush +Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? + +First Bandit +We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, +As beasts and birds and fishes. + +TIMON +Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; +You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con +That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not +In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft +In limited professions. Rascal thieves, +Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, +Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, +And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; +His antidotes are poison, and he slays +Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; +Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, +Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. +The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction +Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, +And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: +The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves +The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, +That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen +From general excrement: each thing's a thief: +The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power +Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, +Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: +All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, +Break open shops; nothing can you steal, +But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this +I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. + +Third Bandit +Has almost charmed me from my profession, by +persuading me to it. + +First Bandit +'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises +us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. + +Second Bandit +I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. + +First Bandit +Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time +so miserable but a man may be true. + +Exeunt Banditti + +Enter FLAVIUS + +FLAVIUS +O you gods! +Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? +Full of decay and failing? O monument +And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! +What an alteration of honour +Has desperate want made! +What viler thing upon the earth than friends +Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! +How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, +When man was wish'd to love his enemies! +Grant I may ever love, and rather woo +Those that would mischief me than those that do! +Has caught me in his eye: I will present +My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, +Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! + +TIMON +Away! what art thou? + +FLAVIUS +Have you forgot me, sir? + +TIMON +Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; +Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. + +FLAVIUS +An honest poor servant of yours. + +TIMON +Then I know thee not: +I never had honest man about me, I; all +I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. + +FLAVIUS +The gods are witness, +Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief +For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. + +TIMON +What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I +love thee, +Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st +Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give +But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: +Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! + +FLAVIUS +I beg of you to know me, good my lord, +To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts +To entertain me as your steward still. + +TIMON +Had I a steward +So true, so just, and now so comfortable? +It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. +Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man +Was born of woman. +Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, +You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim +One honest man--mistake me not--but one; +No more, I pray,--and he's a steward. +How fain would I have hated all mankind! +And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, +I fell with curses. +Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; +For, by oppressing and betraying me, +Thou mightst have sooner got another service: +For many so arrive at second masters, +Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- +For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- +Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, +If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, +Expecting in return twenty for one? + +FLAVIUS +No, my most worthy master; in whose breast +Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: +You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: +Suspect still comes where an estate is least. +That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, +Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, +Care of your food and living; and, believe it, +My most honour'd lord, +For any benefit that points to me, +Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange +For this one wish, that you had power and wealth +To requite me, by making rich yourself. + +TIMON +Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, +Here, take: the gods out of my misery +Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; +But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; +Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, +But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, +Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs +What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, +Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like +blasted woods, +And may diseases lick up their false bloods! +And so farewell and thrive. + +FLAVIUS +O, let me stay, +And comfort you, my master. + +TIMON +If thou hatest curses, +Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free: +Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. + +Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave. + +Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave +Painter +As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where +he abides. + +Poet +What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold +for true, that he's so full of gold? + +Painter +Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and +Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor +straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said +he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. + +Poet +Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. + +Painter +Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens +again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore +'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this +supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in +us; and is very likely to load our purposes with +what they travail for, if it be a just true report +that goes of his having. + +Poet +What have you now to present unto him? + +Painter +Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will +promise him an excellent piece. + +Poet +I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent +that's coming toward him. + +Painter +Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the +time: it opens the eyes of expectation: +performance is ever the duller for his act; and, +but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the +deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is +most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind +of will or testament which argues a great sickness +in his judgment that makes it. + +TIMON comes from his cave, behind + +TIMON +[Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a +man so bad as is thyself. + +Poet +I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for +him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire +against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery +of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency. + +TIMON +[Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in +thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in +other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. + +Poet +Nay, let's seek him: +Then do we sin against our own estate, +When we may profit meet, and come too late. + +Painter +True; +When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, +Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. + +TIMON +[Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a +god's gold, +That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple +Than where swine feed! +'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam, +Settlest admired reverence in a slave: +To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye +Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey! +Fit I meet them. + +Coming forward + +Poet +Hail, worthy Timon! + +Painter +Our late noble master! + +TIMON +Have I once lived to see two honest men? + +Poet +Sir, +Having often of your open bounty tasted, +Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off, +Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!-- +Not all the whips of heaven are large enough: +What! to you, +Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence +To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover +The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude +With any size of words. + +TIMON +Let it go naked, men may see't the better: +You that are honest, by being what you are, +Make them best seen and known. + +Painter +He and myself +Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts, +And sweetly felt it. + +TIMON +Ay, you are honest men. + +Painter +We are hither come to offer you our service. + +TIMON +Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? +Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. + +Both +What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. + +TIMON +Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold; +I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. + +Painter +So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore +Came not my friend nor I. + +TIMON +Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit +Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best; +Thou counterfeit'st most lively. + +Painter +So, so, my lord. + +TIMON +E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction, +Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth +That thou art even natural in thine art. +But, for all this, my honest-natured friends, +I must needs say you have a little fault: +Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I +You take much pains to mend. + +Both +Beseech your honour +To make it known to us. + +TIMON +You'll take it ill. + +Both +Most thankfully, my lord. + +TIMON +Will you, indeed? + +Both +Doubt it not, worthy lord. + +TIMON +There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, +That mightily deceives you. + +Both +Do we, my lord? + +TIMON +Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, +Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, +Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured +That he's a made-up villain. + +Painter +I know none such, my lord. + +Poet +Nor I. + +TIMON +Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, +Rid me these villains from your companies: +Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught, +Confound them by some course, and come to me, +I'll give you gold enough. + +Both +Name them, my lord, let's know them. + +TIMON +You that way and you this, but two in company; +Each man apart, all single and alone, +Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. +If where thou art two villains shall not be, +Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside +But where one villain is, then him abandon. +Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves: + +To Painter + +You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence! + +To Poet + +You are an alchemist; make gold of that. +Out, rascal dogs! + +Beats them out, and then retires to his cave + +Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators + +FLAVIUS +It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; +For he is set so only to himself +That nothing but himself which looks like man +Is friendly with him. + +First Senator +Bring us to his cave: +It is our part and promise to the Athenians +To speak with Timon. + +Second Senator +At all times alike +Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs +That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand, +Offering the fortunes of his former days, +The former man may make him. Bring us to him, +And chance it as it may. + +FLAVIUS +Here is his cave. +Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! +Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, +By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: +Speak to them, noble Timon. + +TIMON comes from his cave + +TIMON +Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and +be hang'd: +For each true word, a blister! and each false +Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue, +Consuming it with speaking! + +First Senator +Worthy Timon,-- + +TIMON +Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. + +First Senator +The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. + +TIMON +I thank them; and would send them back the plague, +Could I but catch it for them. + +First Senator +O, forget +What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. +The senators with one consent of love +Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought +On special dignities, which vacant lie +For thy best use and wearing. + +Second Senator +They confess +Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross: +Which now the public body, which doth seldom +Play the recanter, feeling in itself +A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal +Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon; +And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render, +Together with a recompense more fruitful +Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; +Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth +As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs +And write in thee the figures of their love, +Ever to read them thine. + +TIMON +You witch me in it; +Surprise me to the very brink of tears: +Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, +And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. + +First Senator +Therefore, so please thee to return with us +And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take +The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, +Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name +Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back +Of Alcibiades the approaches wild, +Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up +His country's peace. + +Second Senator +And shakes his threatening sword +Against the walls of Athens. + +First Senator +Therefore, Timon,-- + +TIMON +Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: +If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, +Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, +That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens, +And take our goodly aged men by the beards, +Giving our holy virgins to the stain +Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war, +Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it, +In pity of our aged and our youth, +I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, +And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, +While you have throats to answer: for myself, +There's not a whittle in the unruly camp +But I do prize it at my love before +The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you +To the protection of the prosperous gods, +As thieves to keepers. + +FLAVIUS +Stay not, all's in vain. + +TIMON +Why, I was writing of my epitaph; +it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness +Of health and living now begins to mend, +And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; +Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, +And last so long enough! + +First Senator +We speak in vain. + +TIMON +But yet I love my country, and am not +One that rejoices in the common wreck, +As common bruit doth put it. + +First Senator +That's well spoke. + +TIMON +Commend me to my loving countrymen,-- + +First Senator +These words become your lips as they pass +thorough them. + +Second Senator +And enter in our ears like great triumphers +In their applauding gates. + +TIMON +Commend me to them, +And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, +Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, +Their pangs of love, with other incident throes +That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain +In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: +I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. + +First Senator +I like this well; he will return again. + +TIMON +I have a tree, which grows here in my close, +That mine own use invites me to cut down, +And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends, +Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree +From high to low throughout, that whoso please +To stop affliction, let him take his haste, +Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, +And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. + +FLAVIUS +Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him. + +TIMON +Come not to me again: but say to Athens, +Timon hath made his everlasting mansion +Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; +Who once a day with his embossed froth +The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, +And let my grave-stone be your oracle. +Lips, let sour words go by and language end: +What is amiss plague and infection mend! +Graves only be men's works and death their gain! +Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. + +Retires to his cave + +First Senator +His discontents are unremoveably +Coupled to nature. + +Second Senator +Our hope in him is dead: let us return, +And strain what other means is left unto us +In our dear peril. + +First Senator +It requires swift foot. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. + +Enter two Senators and a Messenger +First Senator +Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files +As full as thy report? + +Messenger +have spoke the least: +Besides, his expedition promises +Present approach. + +Second Senator +We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. + +Messenger +I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; +Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force, +And made us speak like friends: this man was riding +From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, +With letters of entreaty, which imported +His fellowship i' the cause against your city, +In part for his sake moved. + +First Senator +Here come our brothers. + +Enter the Senators from TIMON + +Third Senator +No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. +The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring +Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: +Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen. + +Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON +Soldier +By all description this should be the place. +Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this? +Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: +Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. +Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb +I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: +Our captain hath in every figure skill, +An aged interpreter, though young in days: +Before proud Athens he's set down by this, +Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens. + +Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers +ALCIBIADES +Sound to this coward and lascivious town +Our terrible approach. + +A parley sounded + +Enter Senators on the walls + +Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time +With all licentious measure, making your wills +The scope of justice; till now myself and such +As slept within the shadow of your power +Hav e wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed +Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush, +When crouching marrow in the bearer strong +Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong +Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, +And pursy insolence shall break his wind +With fear and horrid flight. + +First Senator +Noble and young, +When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, +Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, +We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm, +To wipe out our ingratitude with loves +Above their quantity. + +Second Senator +So did we woo +Transformed Timon to our city's love +By humble message and by promised means: +We were not all unkind, nor all deserve +The common stroke of war. + +First Senator +These walls of ours +Were not erected by their hands from whom +You have received your griefs; nor are they such +That these great towers, trophies and schools +should fall +For private faults in them. + +Second Senator +Nor are they living +Who were the motives that you first went out; +Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess +Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, +Into our city with thy banners spread: +By decimation, and a tithed death-- +If thy revenges hunger for that food +Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth, +And by the hazard of the spotted die +Let die the spotted. + +First Senator +All have not offended; +For those that were, it is not square to take +On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, +Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, +Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage: +Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin +Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall +With those that have offended: like a shepherd, +Approach the fold and cull the infected forth, +But kill not all together. + +Second Senator +What thou wilt, +Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile +Than hew to't with thy sword. + +First Senator +Set but thy foot +Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope; +So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, +To say thou'lt enter friendly. + +Second Senator +Throw thy glove, +Or any token of thine honour else, +That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress +And not as our confusion, all thy powers +Shall make their harbour in our town, till we +Have seal'd thy full desire. + +ALCIBIADES +Then there's my glove; +Descend, and open your uncharged ports: +Those enemies of Timon's and mine own +Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof +Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears +With my more noble meaning, not a man +Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream +Of regular justice in your city's bounds, +But shall be render'd to your public laws +At heaviest answer. + +Both +'Tis most nobly spoken. + +ALCIBIADES +Descend, and keep your words. + +The Senators descend, and open the gates + +Enter Soldier + +Soldier +My noble general, Timon is dead; +Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; +And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which +With wax I brought away, whose soft impression +Interprets for my poor ignorance. + +ALCIBIADES +[Reads the epitaph] 'Here lies a +wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: +Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked +caitiffs left! +Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: +Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay +not here thy gait.' +These well express in thee thy latter spirits: +Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, +Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our +droplets which +From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit +Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye +On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead +Is noble Timon: of whose memory +Hereafter more. Bring me into your city, +And I will use the olive with my sword, +Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each +Prescribe to other as each other's leech. +Let our drums strike. + +Exeunt +Titus Andronicus +Shakespeare homepage | Titus Andronicus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol. + +The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours +SATURNINUS +Noble patricians, patrons of my right, +Defend the justice of my cause with arms, +And, countrymen, my loving followers, +Plead my successive title with your swords: +I am his first-born son, that was the last +That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; +Then let my father's honours live in me, +Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + +BASSIANUS +Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, +If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, +Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, +Keep then this passage to the Capitol +And suffer not dishonour to approach +The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, +To justice, continence and nobility; +But let desert in pure election shine, +And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. + +Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Princes, that strive by factions and by friends +Ambitiously for rule and empery, +Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand +A special party, have, by common voice, +In election for the Roman empery, +Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius +For many good and great deserts to Rome: +A nobler man, a braver warrior, +Lives not this day within the city walls: +He by the senate is accit'd home +From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; +That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, +Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms. +Ten years are spent since first he undertook +This cause of Rome and chastised with arms +Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd +Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons +In coffins from the field; +And now at last, laden with horror's spoils, +Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, +Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. +Let us entreat, by honour of his name, +Whom worthily you would have now succeed. +And in the Capitol and senate's right, +Whom you pretend to honour and adore, +That you withdraw you and abate your strength; +Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, +Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + +SATURNINUS +How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! + +BASSIANUS +Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally +In thy uprightness and integrity, +And so I love and honour thee and thine, +Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, +And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, +Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, +That I will here dismiss my loving friends, +And to my fortunes and the people's favor +Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. + +Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS + +SATURNINUS +Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, +I thank you all and here dismiss you all, +And to the love and favor of my country +Commit myself, my person and the cause. + +Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS + +Rome, be as just and gracious unto me +As I am confident and kind to thee. +Open the gates, and let me in. + +BASSIANUS +Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol + +Enter a Captain + +Captain +Romans, make way: the good Andronicus. +Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, +Successful in the battles that he fights, +With honour and with fortune is return'd +From where he circumscribed with his sword, +And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. + +Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! +Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught, +Returns with precious jading to the bay +From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, +Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, +To re-salute his country with his tears, +Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. +Thou great defender of this Capitol, +Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! +Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, +Half of the number that King Priam had, +Behold the poor remains, alive and dead! +These that survive let Rome reward with love; +These that I bring unto their latest home, +With burial amongst their ancestors: +Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. +Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, +Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, +To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? +Make way to lay them by their brethren. + +The tomb is opened + +There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, +And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars! +O sacred receptacle of my joys, +Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, +How many sons of mine hast thou in store, +That thou wilt never render to me more! + +LUCIUS +Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, +That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile +Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, +Before this earthy prison of their bones; +That so the shadows be not unappeased, +Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I give him you, the noblest that survives, +The eldest son of this distressed queen. + +TAMORA +Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror, +Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, +A mother's tears in passion for her son: +And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, +O, think my son to be as dear to me! +Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome, +To beautify thy triumphs and return, +Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, +But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets, +For valiant doings in their country's cause? +O, if to fight for king and commonweal +Were piety in thine, it is in these. +Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood: +Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? +Draw near them then in being merciful: +Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge: +Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. +These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld +Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain +Religiously they ask a sacrifice: +To this your son is mark'd, and die he must, +To appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + +LUCIUS +Away with him! and make a fire straight; +And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, +Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS + +TAMORA +O cruel, irreligious piety! + +CHIRON +Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? + +DEMETRIUS +Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. +Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive +To tremble under Titus' threatening looks. +Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal +The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy +With opportunity of sharp revenge +Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, +May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths-- +When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-- +To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + +Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with their swords bloody + +LUCIUS +See, lord and father, how we have perform'd +Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, +And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, +Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. +Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren, +And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Let it be so; and let Andronicus +Make this his latest farewell to their souls. + +Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb + +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; +Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, +Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! +Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, +Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, +No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! + +Enter LAVINIA + +LAVINIA +In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; +My noble lord and father, live in fame! +Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears +I render, for my brethren's obsequies; +And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy, +Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome: +O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, +Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved +The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! +Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days, +And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! + +Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes; re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, +Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, +You that survive, and you that sleep in fame! +Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, +That in your country's service drew your swords: +But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, +That hath aspired to Solon's happiness +And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. +Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, +Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, +Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, +This palliament of white and spotless hue; +And name thee in election for the empire, +With these our late-deceased emperor's sons: +Be candidatus then, and put it on, +And help to set a head on headless Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +A better head her glorious body fits +Than his that shakes for age and feebleness: +What should I don this robe, and trouble you? +Be chosen with proclamations to-day, +To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, +And set abroad new business for you all? +Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, +And led my country's strength successfully, +And buried one and twenty valiant sons, +Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, +In right and service of their noble country +Give me a staff of honour for mine age, +But not a sceptre to control the world: +Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + +SATURNINUS +Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, Prince Saturninus. + +SATURNINUS +Romans, do me right: +Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not +Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. +Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell, +Rather than rob me of the people's hearts! + +LUCIUS +Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good +That noble-minded Titus means to thee! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee +The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. + +BASSIANUS +Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, +But honour thee, and will do till I die: +My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, +I will most thankful be; and thanks to men +Of noble minds is honourable meed. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, +I ask your voices and your suffrages: +Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + +Tribunes +To gratify the good Andronicus, +And gratulate his safe return to Rome, +The people will accept whom he admits. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make, +That you create your emperor's eldest son, +Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, +Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth, +And ripen justice in this commonweal: +Then, if you will elect by my advice, +Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!' + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +With voices and applause of every sort, +Patricians and plebeians, we create +Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, +And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!' + +A long flourish till they come down + +SATURNINUS +Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done +To us in our election this day, +I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, +And will with deeds requite thy gentleness: +And, for an onset, Titus, to advance +Thy name and honourable family, +Lavinia will I make my empress, +Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, +And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse: +Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match +I hold me highly honour'd of your grace: +And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, +King and commander of our commonweal, +The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate +My sword, my chariot and my prisoners; +Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord: +Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, +Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life! +How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts +Rome shall record, and when I do forget +The least of these unspeakable deserts, +Romans, forget your fealty to me. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +[To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to +an emperor; +To him that, for your honour and your state, +Will use you nobly and your followers. + +SATURNINUS +A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue +That I would choose, were I to choose anew. +Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance: +Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, +Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome: +Princely shall be thy usage every way. +Rest on my word, and let not discontent +Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you +Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. +Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? + +LAVINIA +Not I, my lord; sith true nobility +Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go; +Ransomless here we set our prisoners free: +Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show + +BASSIANUS +Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + +Seizing LAVINIA + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord? + +BASSIANUS +Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal +To do myself this reason and this right. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice: +This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + +LUCIUS +And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard? +Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised! + +SATURNINUS +Surprised! by whom? + +BASSIANUS +By him that justly may +Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. + +Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA + +MUTIUS +Brothers, help to convey her hence away, +And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. + +MUTIUS +My lord, you pass not here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, villain boy! +Barr'st me my way in Rome? + +Stabbing MUTIUS + +MUTIUS +Help, Lucius, help! + +Dies + +During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so, +In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine; +My sons would never so dishonour me: +Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor. + +LUCIUS +Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, +That is another's lawful promised love. + +Exit + +SATURNINUS +No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, +Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: +I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; +Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, +Confederates all thus to dishonour me. +Was there none else in Rome to make a stale, +But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, +Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine, +That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O monstrous! what reproachful words are these? + +SATURNINUS +But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece +To him that flourish'd for her with his sword +A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy; +One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, +To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +These words are razors to my wounded heart. + +SATURNINUS +And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths, +That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs +Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome, +If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, +Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, +And will create thee empress of Rome, +Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? +And here I swear by all the Roman gods, +Sith priest and holy water are so near +And tapers burn so bright and every thing +In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, +I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, +Or climb my palace, till from forth this place +I lead espoused my bride along with me. + +TAMORA +And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear, +If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, +She will a handmaid be to his desires, +A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. + +SATURNINUS +Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany +Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, +Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, +Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered: +There shall we consummate our spousal rites. + +Exeunt all but TITUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I am not bid to wait upon this bride. +Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, +Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs? + +Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! +In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, +Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed +That hath dishonour'd all our family; +Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons! + +LUCIUS +But let us give him burial, as becomes; +Give Mutius burial with our brethren. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb: +This monument five hundred years hath stood, +Which I have sumptuously re-edified: +Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors +Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls: +Bury him where you can; he comes not here. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, this is impiety in you: +My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him +He must be buried with his brethren. + +QUINTUS MARTIUS +And shall, or him we will accompany. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +'And shall!' what villain was it that spake +that word? + +QUINTUS +He that would vouch it in any place but here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, would you bury him in my despite? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee +To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, +And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded: +My foes I do repute you every one; +So, trouble me no more, but get you gone. + +MARTIUS +He is not with himself; let us withdraw. + +QUINTUS +Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. + +MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,-- + +QUINTUS +Father, and in that name doth nature speak,-- + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,-- + +LUCIUS +Dear father, soul and substance of us all,-- + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter +His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, +That died in honour and Lavinia's cause. +Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous: +The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax +That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son +Did graciously plead for his funerals: +Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy +Be barr'd his entrance here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Rise, Marcus, rise. +The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw, +To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome! +Well, bury him, and bury me the next. + +MUTIUS is put into the tomb + +LUCIUS +There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, +Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. + +All +[Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; +He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, +How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths +Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I know not, Marcus; but I know it is, +Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell: +Is she not then beholding to the man +That brought her for this high good turn so far? +Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + +Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others + +SATURNINUS +So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize: +God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride! + +BASSIANUS +And you of yours, my lord! I say no more, +Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave. + +SATURNINUS +Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, +Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. + +BASSIANUS +Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own, +My truth-betrothed love and now my wife? +But let the laws of Rome determine all; +Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine. + +SATURNINUS +'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us; +But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. + +BASSIANUS +My lord, what I have done, as best I may, +Answer I must and shall do with my life. +Only thus much I give your grace to know: +By all the duties that I owe to Rome, +This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, +Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd; +That in the rescue of Lavinia +With his own hand did slay his youngest son, +In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath +To be controll'd in that he frankly gave: +Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine, +That hath express'd himself in all his deeds +A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds: +'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me. +Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, +How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine! + +TAMORA +My worthy lord, if ever Tamora +Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, +Then hear me speak in indifferently for all; +And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + +SATURNINUS +What, madam! be dishonour'd openly, +And basely put it up without revenge? + +TAMORA +Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend +I should be author to dishonour you! +But on mine honour dare I undertake +For good Lord Titus' innocence in all; +Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: +Then, at my suit, look graciously on him; +Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, +Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. + +Aside to SATURNINUS + +be won at last; +Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: +You are but newly planted in your throne; +Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, +Upon a just survey, take Titus' part, +And so supplant you for ingratitude, +Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, +Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: +I'll find a day to massacre them all +And raze their faction and their family, +The cruel father and his traitorous sons, +To whom I sued for my dear son's life, +And make them know what 'tis to let a queen +Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. + +Aloud + +Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; +Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart +That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. + +SATURNINUS +Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I thank your majesty, and her, my lord: +These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, +A Roman now adopted happily, +And must advise the emperor for his good. +This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; +And let it be mine honour, good my lord, +That I have reconciled your friends and you. +For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd +My word and promise to the emperor, +That you will be more mild and tractable. +And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia; +By my advice, all humbled on your knees, +You shall ask pardon of his majesty. + +LUCIUS +We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness, +That what we did was mildly as we might, +Tendering our sister's honour and our own. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +That, on mine honour, here I do protest. + +SATURNINUS +Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + +TAMORA +Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends: +The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace; +I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back. + +SATURNINUS +Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here, +And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, +I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up. +Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, +I found a friend, and sure as death I swore +I would not part a bachelor from the priest. +Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides, +You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. +This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +To-morrow, an it please your majesty +To hunt the panther and the hart with me, +With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. + +SATURNINUS +Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Palace. + +Enter AARON +AARON +Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, +Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft, +Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash; +Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach. +As when the golden sun salutes the morn, +And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, +Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, +And overlooks the highest-peering hills; +So Tamora: +Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, +And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. +Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts, +To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, +And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long +Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains +And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes +Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. +Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! +I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, +To wait upon this new-made empress. +To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, +This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, +This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine, +And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's. +Holloa! what storm is this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge, +And manners, to intrude where I am graced; +And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. + +CHIRON +Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all; +And so in this, to bear me down with braves. +'Tis not the difference of a year or two +Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: +I am as able and as fit as thou +To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace; +And that my sword upon thee shall approve, +And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. + +AARON +[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep +the peace. + +DEMETRIUS +Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, +Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, +Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? +Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath +Till you know better how to handle it. + +CHIRON +Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, +Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. + +DEMETRIUS +Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? + +They draw + +AARON +[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords! +So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, +And maintain such a quarrel openly? +Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: +I would not for a million of gold +The cause were known to them it most concerns; +Nor would your noble mother for much more +Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome. +For shame, put up. + +DEMETRIUS +Not I, till I have sheathed +My rapier in his bosom and withal +Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat +That he hath breathed in my dishonour here. + +CHIRON +For that I am prepared and full resolved. +Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, +And with thy weapon nothing darest perform! + +AARON +Away, I say! +Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, +This petty brabble will undo us all. +Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous +It is to jet upon a prince's right? +What, is Lavinia then become so loose, +Or Bassianus so degenerate, +That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd +Without controlment, justice, or revenge? +Young lords, beware! and should the empress know +This discord's ground, the music would not please. + +CHIRON +I care not, I, knew she and all the world: +I love Lavinia more than all the world. + +DEMETRIUS +Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: +Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. + +AARON +Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome +How furious and impatient they be, +And cannot brook competitors in love? +I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths +By this device. + +CHIRON +Aaron, a thousand deaths +Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. + +AARON +To achieve her! how? + +DEMETRIUS +Why makest thou it so strange? +She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; +She is a woman, therefore may be won; +She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. +What, man! more water glideth by the mill +Than wots the miller of; and easy it is +Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: +Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother. +Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. + +AARON +[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. + +DEMETRIUS +Then why should he despair that knows to court it +With words, fair looks and liberality? +What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, +And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? + +AARON +Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so +Would serve your turns. + +CHIRON +Ay, so the turn were served. + +DEMETRIUS +Aaron, thou hast hit it. + +AARON +Would you had hit it too! +Then should not we be tired with this ado. +Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools +To square for this? would it offend you, then +That both should speed? + +CHIRON +Faith, not me. + +DEMETRIUS +Nor me, so I were one. + +AARON +For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: +'Tis policy and stratagem must do +That you affect; and so must you resolve, +That what you cannot as you would achieve, +You must perforce accomplish as you may. +Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste +Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. +A speedier course than lingering languishment +Must we pursue, and I have found the path. +My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; +There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: +The forest walks are wide and spacious; +And many unfrequented plots there are +Fitted by kind for rape and villany: +Single you thither then this dainty doe, +And strike her home by force, if not by words: +This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. +Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit +To villany and vengeance consecrate, +Will we acquaint with all that we intend; +And she shall file our engines with advice, +That will not suffer you to square yourselves, +But to your wishes' height advance you both. +The emperor's court is like the house of Fame, +The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: +The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; +There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take +your turns; +There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye, +And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + +CHIRON +Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice, + +DEMETRIUS +Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream +To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits. +Per Styga, per manes vehor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard. + +Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, & c., MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS +TITUS ANDRONICUS +The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, +The fields are fragrant and the woods are green: +Uncouple here and let us make a bay +And wake the emperor and his lovely bride +And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal, +That all the court may echo with the noise. +Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, +To attend the emperor's person carefully: +I have been troubled in my sleep this night, +But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. + +A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and Attendants + +Many good morrows to your majesty; +Madam, to you as many and as good: +I promised your grace a hunter's peal. + +SATURNINUS +And you have rung it lustily, my lord; +Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. + +BASSIANUS +Lavinia, how say you? + +LAVINIA +I say, no; +I have been broad awake two hours and more. + +SATURNINUS +Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have, +And to our sport. + +To TAMORA + +Madam, now shall ye see +Our Roman hunting. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +I have dogs, my lord, +Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, +And climb the highest promontory top. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +And I have horse will follow where the game +Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, +But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A lonely part of the forest. + +Enter AARON, with a bag of gold +AARON +He that had wit would think that I had none, +To bury so much gold under a tree, +And never after to inherit it. +Let him that thinks of me so abjectly +Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, +Which, cunningly effected, will beget +A very excellent piece of villany: +And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest + +Hides the gold + +That have their alms out of the empress' chest. + +Enter TAMORA + +TAMORA +My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, +When every thing doth make a gleeful boast? +The birds chant melody on every bush, +The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun, +The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind +And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: +Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, +And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, +Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, +As if a double hunt were heard at once, +Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise; +And, after conflict such as was supposed +The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd, +When with a happy storm they were surprised +And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave, +We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, +Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber; +Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds +Be unto us as is a nurse's song +Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. + +AARON +Madam, though Venus govern your desires, +Saturn is dominator over mine: +What signifies my deadly-standing eye, +My silence and my cloudy melancholy, +My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls +Even as an adder when she doth unroll +To do some fatal execution? +No, madam, these are no venereal signs: +Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, +Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. +Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul, +Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, +This is the day of doom for Bassianus: +His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day, +Thy sons make pillage of her chastity +And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood. +Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee, +And give the king this fatal plotted scroll. +Now question me no more; we are espied; +Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, +Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. + +TAMORA +Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + +AARON +No more, great empress; Bassianus comes: +Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons +To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. + +Exit + +Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA + +BASSIANUS +Who have we here? Rome's royal empress, +Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop? +Or is it Dian, habited like her, +Who hath abandoned her holy groves +To see the general hunting in this forest? + +TAMORA +Saucy controller of our private steps! +Had I the power that some say Dian had, +Thy temples should be planted presently +With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds +Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, +Unmannerly intruder as thou art! + +LAVINIA +Under your patience, gentle empress, +'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning; +And to be doubted that your Moor and you +Are singled forth to try experiments: +Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day! +'Tis pity they should take him for a stag. + +BASSIANUS +Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian +Doth make your honour of his body's hue, +Spotted, detested, and abominable. +Why are you sequester'd from all your train, +Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed. +And wander'd hither to an obscure plot, +Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, +If foul desire had not conducted you? + +LAVINIA +And, being intercepted in your sport, +Great reason that my noble lord be rated +For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence, +And let her joy her raven-colour'd love; +This valley fits the purpose passing well. + +BASSIANUS +The king my brother shall have note of this. + +LAVINIA +Ay, for these slips have made him noted long: +Good king, to be so mightily abused! + +TAMORA +Why have I patience to endure all this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +DEMETRIUS +How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! +Why doth your highness look so pale and wan? + +TAMORA +Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? +These two have 'ticed me hither to this place: +A barren detested vale, you see it is; +The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, +O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe: +Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, +Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven: +And when they show'd me this abhorred pit, +They told me, here, at dead time of the night, +A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, +Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, +Would make such fearful and confused cries +As any mortal body hearing it +Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. +No sooner had they told this hellish tale, +But straight they told me they would bind me here +Unto the body of a dismal yew, +And leave me to this miserable death: +And then they call'd me foul adulteress, +Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms +That ever ear did hear to such effect: +And, had you not by wondrous fortune come, +This vengeance on me had they executed. +Revenge it, as you love your mother's life, +Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children. + +DEMETRIUS +This is a witness that I am thy son. + +Stabs BASSIANUS + +CHIRON +And this for me, struck home to show my strength. + +Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies + +LAVINIA +Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, +For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + +TAMORA +Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys +Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her; +First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw: +This minion stood upon her chastity, +Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, +And with that painted hope braves your mightiness: +And shall she carry this unto her grave? + +CHIRON +An if she do, I would I were an eunuch. +Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, +And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. + +TAMORA +But when ye have the honey ye desire, +Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + +CHIRON +I warrant you, madam, we wil l make that sure. +Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy +That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,-- + +TAMORA +I will not hear her speak; away with her! + +LAVINIA +Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + +DEMETRIUS +Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory +To see her tears; but be your heart to them +As unrelenting flint to drops of rain. + +LAVINIA +When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? +O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee; +The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble; +Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. +Yet every mother breeds not sons alike: + +To CHIRON + +Do thou entreat her show a woman pity. + +CHIRON +What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + +LAVINIA +'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark: +Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!-- +The lion moved with pity did endure +To have his princely paws pared all away: +Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, +The whilst their own birds famish in their nests: +O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, +Nothing so kind, but something pitiful! + +TAMORA +I know not what it means; away with her! + +LAVINIA +O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake, +That gave thee life, when well he might have +slain thee, +Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears. + +TAMORA +Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me, +Even for his sake am I pitiless. +Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, +To save your brother from the sacrifice; +But fierce Andronicus would not relent; +Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will, +The worse to her, the better loved of me. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, +And with thine own hands kill me in this place! +For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long; +Poor I was slain when Bassianus died. + +TAMORA +What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go. + +LAVINIA +'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more +That womanhood denies my tongue to tell: +O, keep me from their worse than killing lust, +And tumble me into some loathsome pit, +Where never man's eye may behold my body: +Do this, and be a charitable murderer. + +TAMORA +So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: +No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. + +DEMETRIUS +Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long. + +LAVINIA +No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature! +The blot and enemy to our general name! +Confusion fall-- + +CHIRON +Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband: +This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. + +DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging off LAVINIA + +TAMORA +Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure. +Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed, +Till all the Andronici be made away. +Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, +And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r. + +Exit + +Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS + +AARON +Come on, my lords, the better foot before: +Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit +Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + +QUINTUS +My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + +MARTIUS +And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame, +Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. + +Falls into the pit + +QUINTUS +What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this, +Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers, +Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood +As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers? +A very fatal place it seems to me. +Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall? + +MARTIUS +O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt +That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + +AARON +[Aside] Now will I fetch the king to find them here, +That he thereby may give a likely guess +How these were they that made away his brother. + +Exit + +MARTIUS +Why dost not comfort me, and help me out +From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole? + +QUINTUS +I am surprised with an uncouth fear; +A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints: +My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. + +MARTIUS +To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, +Aaron and thou look down into this den, +And see a fearful sight of blood and death. + +QUINTUS +Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart +Will not permit mine eyes once to behold +The thing whereat it trembles by surmise; +O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now +Was I a child to fear I know not what. + +MARTIUS +Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here, +All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb, +In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + +QUINTUS +If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + +MARTIUS +Upon his bloody finger he doth wear +A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, +Which, like a taper in some monument, +Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, +And shows the ragged entrails of the pit: +So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus +When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. +O brother, help me with thy fainting hand-- +If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath-- +Out of this fell devouring receptacle, +As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth. + +QUINTUS +Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out; +Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, +I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb +Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave. +I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink. + +MARTIUS +Nor I no strength to climb without thy help. + +QUINTUS +Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, +Till thou art here aloft, or I below: +Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee. + +Falls in + +Enter SATURNINUS with AARON + +SATURNINUS +Along with me: I'll see what hole is here, +And what he is that now is leap'd into it. +Say who art thou that lately didst descend +Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + +MARTIUS +The unhappy son of old Andronicus: +Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, +To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + +SATURNINUS +My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: +He and his lady both are at the lodge +Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; +'Tis not an hour since I left him there. + +MARTIUS +We know not where you left him all alive; +But, out, alas! here have we found him dead. + +Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and Lucius + +TAMORA +Where is my lord the king? + +SATURNINUS +Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. + +TAMORA +Where is thy brother Bassianus? + +SATURNINUS +Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound: +Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + +TAMORA +Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, +The complot of this timeless tragedy; +And wonder greatly that man's face can fold +In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. + +She giveth SATURNINUS a letter + +SATURNINUS +[Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely-- +Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean-- +Do thou so much as dig the grave for him: +Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward +Among the nettles at the elder-tree +Which overshades the mouth of that same pit +Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. +Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.' +O Tamora! was ever heard the like? +This is the pit, and this the elder-tree. +Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out +That should have murdered Bassianus here. + +AARON +My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. + +SATURNINUS +[To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of +bloody kind, +Have here bereft my brother of his life. +Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison: +There let them bide until we have devised +Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + +TAMORA +What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! +How easily murder is discovered! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +High emperor, upon my feeble knee +I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, +That this fell fault of my accursed sons, +Accursed if the fault be proved in them,-- + +SATURNINUS +If it be proved! you see it is apparent. +Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + +TAMORA +Andronicus himself did take it up. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail; +For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow +They shall be ready at your highness' will +To answer their suspicion with their lives. + +SATURNINUS +Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me. +Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers: +Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain; +For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, +That end upon them should be executed. + +TAMORA +Andronicus, I will entreat the king; +Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the forest. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out +DEMETRIUS +So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, +Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee. + +CHIRON +Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, +An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. + +DEMETRIUS +See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl. + +CHIRON +Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands. + +DEMETRIUS +She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; +And so let's leave her to her silent walks. + +CHIRON +An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself. + +DEMETRIUS +If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. + +Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +Enter MARCUS + +MARCUS +Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast! +Cousin, a word; where is your husband? +If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! +If I do wake, some planet strike me down, +That I may slumber in eternal sleep! +Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands +Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare +Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, +Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, +And might not gain so great a happiness +As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me? +Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, +Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, +Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, +Coming and going with thy honey breath. +But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee, +And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. +Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame! +And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood, +As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, +Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face +Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. +Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? +O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast, +That I might rail at him, to ease my mind! +Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, +Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. +Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, +And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind: +But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee; +A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, +And he hath cut those pretty fingers off, +That could have better sew'd than Philomel. +O, had the monster seen those lily hands +Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute, +And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, +He would not then have touch'd them for his life! +Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony +Which that sweet tongue hath made, +He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep +As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. +Come, let us go, and make thy father blind; +For such a sight will blind a father's eye: +One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; +What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? +Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee +O, could our mourning ease thy misery! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of execution; TITUS going before, pleading +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay! +For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent +In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept; +For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed; +For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd; +And for these bitter tears, which now you see +Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks; +Be pitiful to my condemned sons, +Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought. +For two and twenty sons I never wept, +Because they died in honour's lofty bed. + +Lieth down; the Judges, & c., pass by him, and Exeunt + +For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write +My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears: +Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; +My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. +O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain, +That shall distil from these two ancient urns, +Than youthful April shall with all his showers: +In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still; +In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow +And keep eternal spring-time on thy face, +So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. + +Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn + +O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men! +Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death; +And let me say, that never wept before, +My tears are now prevailing orators. + +LUCIUS +O noble father, you lament in vain: +The tribunes hear you not; no man is by; +And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead. +Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,-- + +LUCIUS +My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear, +They would not mark me, or if they did mark, +They would not pity me, yet plead I must; +Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; +Who, though they cannot answer my distress, +Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, +For that they will not intercept my tale: +When I do weep, they humbly at my feet +Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; +And, were they but attired in grave weeds, +Rome could afford no tribune like to these. +A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones; +A stone is silent, and offendeth not, +And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. + +Rises + +But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? + +LUCIUS +To rescue my two brothers from their death: +For which attempt the judges have pronounced +My everlasting doom of banishment. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O happy man! they have befriended thee. +Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive +That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? +Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey +But me and mine: how happy art thou, then, +From these devourers to be banished! +But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + +Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep; +Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break: +I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Will it consume me? let me see it, then. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +This was thy daughter. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, Marcus, so she is. + +LUCIUS +Ay me, this object kills me! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her. +Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand +Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? +What fool hath added water to the sea, +Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? +My grief was at the height before thou camest, +And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. +Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; +For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain; +And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life; +In bootless prayer have they been held up, +And they have served me to effectless use: +Now all the service I require of them +Is that the one will help to cut the other. +'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; +For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain. + +LUCIUS +Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, that delightful engine of her thoughts +That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence, +Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage, +Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung +Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear! + +LUCIUS +O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, thus I found her, straying in the park, +Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer +That hath received some unrecuring wound. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It was my deer; and he that wounded her +Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead: +For now I stand as one upon a rock +Environed with a wilderness of sea, +Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, +Expecting ever when some envious surge +Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. +This way to death my wretched sons are gone; +Here stands my other son, a banished man, +And here my brother, weeping at my woes. +But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn, +Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. +Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, +It would have madded me: what shall I do +Now I behold thy lively body so? +Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears: +Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: +Thy husband he is dead: and for his death +Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this. +Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! +When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears +Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew +Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; +Perchance because she knows them innocent. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not + +Romeo and Juliet +Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +Two households, both alike in dignity, +In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; +Whole misadventured piteous overthrows +Do with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. + +SCENE I. Verona. A public place. + +Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers +SAMPSON +Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY +No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON +I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY +Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + +SAMPSON +I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY +But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON +A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY +To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: +therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + +SAMPSON +A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will +take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY +That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes +to the wall. + +SAMPSON +True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, +are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids +to the wall. + +GREGORY +The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + +SAMPSON +'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I +have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the +maids, and cut off their heads. + +GREGORY +The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON +Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; +take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY +They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON +Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and +'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY +'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes +two of the house of the Montagues. + +SAMPSON +My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + +GREGORY +How! turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON +Fear me not. + +GREGORY +No, marry; I fear thee! + +SAMPSON +Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + +GREGORY +I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as +they list. + +SAMPSON +Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; +which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + +Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say +ay? + +GREGORY +No. + +SAMPSON +No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I +bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY +Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAHAM +Quarrel sir! no, sir. + +SAMPSON +If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. + +ABRAHAM +No better. + +SAMPSON +Well, sir. + +GREGORY +Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON +Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAHAM +You lie. + +SAMPSON +Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. + +They fight + +Enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +Part, fools! +Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + +Beats down their swords + +Enter TYBALT + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: +Have at thee, coward! + +They fight + +Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs + +First Citizen +Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + +Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + +CAPULET +My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + +Enter PRINCE, with Attendants + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- +Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins, +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partisans, in hands as old, +Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time, all the rest depart away: +You Capulet; shall go along with me: +And, Montague, come you this afternoon, +To know our further pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO + +MONTAGUE +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: +I drew to part them: in the instant came +The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; +Where, underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from the city's side, +So early walking did I see your son: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood: +I, measuring his affections by my own, +That most are busied when they're most alone, +Pursued my humour not pursuing his, +And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the furthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from the light steals home my heavy son, +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out +And makes himself an artificial night: +Black and portentous must this humour prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends: +But he, his own affections' counsellor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true-- +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm, +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, +Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; +I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + +Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +BENVOLIO +Good-morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO +Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO +Ay me! sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO +In love? + +ROMEO +Out-- + +BENVOLIO +Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favour, where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! +O any thing, of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness! serious vanity! +Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, +sick health! +Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO +No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +BENVOLIO +At thy good heart's oppression. + +ROMEO +Why, such is love's transgression. +Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest +With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown +Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. +Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; +Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; +Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: +What is it else? a madness most discreet, +A choking gall and a preserving sweet. +Farewell, my coz. + +BENVOLIO +Soft! I will go along; +An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + +ROMEO +Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; +This is not Romeo, he's some other where. + +BENVOLIO +Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. + +ROMEO +What, shall I groan and tell thee? + +BENVOLIO +Groan! why, no. +But sadly tell me who. + +ROMEO +Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: +Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! +In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + +BENVOLIO +I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. + +ROMEO +A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. + +BENVOLIO +A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + +ROMEO +Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit +With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; +And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, +From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. +She will not stay the siege of loving terms, +Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, +Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: +O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, +That when she dies with beauty dies her store. + +BENVOLIO +Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + +ROMEO +She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, +For beauty starved with her severity +Cuts beauty off from all posterity. +She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, +To merit bliss by making me despair: +She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow +Do I live dead that live to tell it now. + +BENVOLIO +Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. + +ROMEO +O, teach me how I should forget to think. + +BENVOLIO +By giving liberty unto thine eyes; +Examine other beauties. + +ROMEO +'Tis the way +To call hers exquisite, in question more: +These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows +Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; +He that is strucken blind cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: +Show me a mistress that is passing fair, +What doth her beauty serve, but as a note +Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? +Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. + +BENVOLIO +I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant +CAPULET +But Montague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, +For men so old as we to keep the peace. + +PARIS +Of honourable reckoning are you both; +And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. +But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? + +CAPULET +But saying o'er what I have said before: +My child is yet a stranger in the world; +She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, +Let two more summers wither in their pride, +Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. + +PARIS +Younger than she are happy mothers made. + +CAPULET +And too soon marr'd are those so early made. +The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, +She is the hopeful lady of my earth: +But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, +My will to her consent is but a part; +An she agree, within her scope of choice +Lies my consent and fair according voice. +This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, +Whereto I have invited many a guest, +Such as I love; and you, among the store, +One more, most welcome, makes my number more. +At my poor house look to behold this night +Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: +Such comfort as do lusty young men feel +When well-apparell'd April on the heel +Of limping winter treads, even such delight +Among fresh female buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, +And like her most whose merit most shall be: +Which on more view, of many mine being one +May stand in number, though in reckoning none, +Come, go with me. + +To Servant, giving a paper + +Go, sirrah, trudge about +Through fair Verona; find those persons out +Whose names are written there, and to them say, +My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. + +Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS + +Servant +Find them out whose names are written here! It is +written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his +yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with +his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am +sent to find those persons whose names are here +writ, and can never find what names the writing +person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. + +Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, +One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; +Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; +One desperate grief cures with another's languish: +Take thou some new infection to thy eye, +And the rank poison of the old will die. + +ROMEO +Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. + +BENVOLIO +For what, I pray thee? + +ROMEO +For your broken shin. + +BENVOLIO +Why, Romeo, art thou mad? + +ROMEO +Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; +Shut up in prison, kept without my food, +Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. + +Servant +God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? + +ROMEO +Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. + +Servant +Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I +pray, can you read any thing you see? + +ROMEO +Ay, if I know the letters and the language. + +Servant +Ye say honestly: rest you merry! + +ROMEO +Stay, fellow; I can read. + +Reads + +'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; +County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady +widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely +nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine +uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece +Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin +Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair +assembly: whither should they come? + +Servant +Up. + +ROMEO +Whither? + +Servant +To supper; to our house. + +ROMEO +Whose house? + +Servant +My master's. + +ROMEO +Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. + +Servant +Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the +great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house +of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. +Rest you merry! + +Exit + +BENVOLIO +At this same ancient feast of Capulet's +Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, +With all the admired beauties of Verona: +Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. + +ROMEO +When the devout religion of mine eye +Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; +And these, who often drown'd could never die, +Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! +One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun +Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. + +BENVOLIO +Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, +Herself poised with herself in either eye: +But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd +Your lady's love against some other maid +That I will show you shining at this feast, +And she shall scant show well that now shows best. + +ROMEO +I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, +But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. + +Nurse +Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, +I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! +God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! + +Enter JULIET + +JULIET +How now! who calls? + +Nurse +Your mother. + +JULIET +Madam, I am here. +What is your will? + +LADY CAPULET +This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, +We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; +I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. +Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. + +Nurse +Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. + +LADY CAPULET +She's not fourteen. + +Nurse +I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- +And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- +She is not fourteen. How long is it now +To Lammas-tide? + +LADY CAPULET +A fortnight and odd days. + +Nurse +Even or odd, of all days in the year, +Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. +Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- +Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; +She was too good for me: but, as I said, +On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; +That shall she, marry; I remember it well. +'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; +And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- +Of all the days of the year, upon that day: +For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, +Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; +My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- +Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, +When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple +Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, +To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! +Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, +To bid me trudge: +And since that time it is eleven years; +For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, +She could have run and waddled all about; +For even the day before, she broke her brow: +And then my husband--God be with his soul! +A' was a merry man--took up the child: +'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, +The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' +To see, now, how a jest shall come about! +I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, +I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; +And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +LADY CAPULET +Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. + +Nurse +Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, +To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' +And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow +A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; +A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: +'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +JULIET +And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. + +Nurse +Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! +Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: +An I might live to see thee married once, +I have my wish. + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme +I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, +How stands your disposition to be married? + +JULIET +It is an honour that I dream not of. + +Nurse +An honour! were not I thine only nurse, +I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, +Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, +Are made already mothers: by my count, +I was your mother much upon these years +That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: +The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. + +Nurse +A man, young lady! lady, such a man +As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. + +LADY CAPULET +Verona's summer hath not such a flower. + +Nurse +Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. + +LADY CAPULET +What say you? can you love the gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our feast; +Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, +And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; +Examine every married lineament, +And see how one another lends content +And what obscured in this fair volume lies +Find written in the margent of his eyes. +This precious book of love, this unbound lover, +To beautify him, only lacks a cover: +The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride +For fair without the fair within to hide: +That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, +That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; +So shall you share all that he doth possess, +By having him, making yourself no less. + +Nurse +No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. + +LADY CAPULET +Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? + +JULIET +I'll look to like, if looking liking move: +But no more deep will I endart mine eye +Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you +called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in +the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must +hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. + +LADY CAPULET +We follow thee. + +Exit Servant + +Juliet, the county stays. + +Nurse +Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others +ROMEO +What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without a apology? + +BENVOLIO +The date is out of such prolixity: +We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, +Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, +Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; +Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke +After the prompter, for our entrance: +But let them measure us by what they will; +We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. + +ROMEO +Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; +Being but heavy, I will bear the light. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. + +ROMEO +Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes +With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead +So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. + +MERCUTIO +You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, +And soar with them above a common bound. + +ROMEO +I am too sore enpierced with his shaft +To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, +I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: +Under love's heavy burden do I sink. + +MERCUTIO +And, to sink in it, should you burden love; +Too great oppression for a tender thing. + +ROMEO +Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, +Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. + +MERCUTIO +If love be rough with you, be rough with love; +Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. +Give me a case to put my visage in: +A visor for a visor! what care I +What curious eye doth quote deformities? +Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. + +BENVOLIO +Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in, +But every man betake him to his legs. + +ROMEO +A torch for me: let wantons light of heart +Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, +For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase; +I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. +The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. + +MERCUTIO +Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: +If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire +Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st +Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! + +ROMEO +Nay, that's not so. + +MERCUTIO +I mean, sir, in delay +We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. +Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits +Five times in that ere once in our five wits. + +ROMEO +And we mean well in going to this mask; +But 'tis no wit to go. + +MERCUTIO +Why, may one ask? + +ROMEO +I dream'd a dream to-night. + +MERCUTIO +And so did I. + +ROMEO +Well, what was yours? + +MERCUTIO +That dreamers often lie. + +ROMEO +In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. + +MERCUTIO +O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. +She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes +In shape no bigger than an agate-stone +On the fore-finger of an alderman, +Drawn with a team of little atomies +Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; +Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, +The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, +The traces of the smallest spider's web, +The collars of the moonshine's watery beams, +Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, +Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, +Not so big as a round little worm +Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; +Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut +Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, +Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. +And in this state she gallops night by night +Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; +O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight, +O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, +O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, +Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, +Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: +Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, +And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; +And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail +Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, +Then dreams, he of another benefice: +Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, +And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, +Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, +Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon +Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, +And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two +And sleeps again. This is that very Mab +That plats the manes of horses in the night, +And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, +Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: +This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, +That presses them and learns them first to bear, +Making them women of good carriage: +This is she-- + +ROMEO +Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! +Thou talk'st of nothing. + +MERCUTIO +True, I talk of dreams, +Which are the children of an idle brain, +Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, +Which is as thin of substance as the air +And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes +Even now the frozen bosom of the north, +And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, +Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. + +BENVOLIO +This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; +Supper is done, and we shall come too late. + +ROMEO +I fear, too early: for my mind misgives +Some consequence yet hanging in the stars +Shall bitterly begin his fearful date +With this night's revels and expire the term +Of a despised life closed in my breast +By some vile forfeit of untimely death. +But He, that hath the steerage of my course, +Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. + +BENVOLIO +Strike, drum. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house. + +Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins +First Servant +Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He +shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! + +Second Servant +When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's +hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. + +First Servant +Away with the joint-stools, remove the +court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save +me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let +the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. +Antony, and Potpan! + +Second Servant +Ay, boy, ready. + +First Servant +You are looked for and called for, asked for and +sought for, in the great chamber. + +Second Servant +We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be +brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. + +Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers + +CAPULET +Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes +Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. +Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all +Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, +She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? +Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day +That I have worn a visor and could tell +A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, +Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: +You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. +A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. + +Music plays, and they dance + +More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, +And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. +Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. +Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; +For you and I are past our dancing days: +How long is't now since last yourself and I +Were in a mask? + +Second Capulet +By'r lady, thirty years. + +CAPULET +What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: +'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, +Come pentecost as quickly as it will, +Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. + +Second Capulet +'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir; +His son is thirty. + +CAPULET +Will you tell me that? +His son was but a ward two years ago. + +ROMEO +[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth +enrich the hand +Of yonder knight? + +Servant +I know not, sir. + +ROMEO +O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! +It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night +Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; +Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! +So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, +As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. +The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, +And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! +For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. + +TYBALT +This, by his voice, should be a Montague. +Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave +Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, +To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? +Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, +To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin. + +CAPULET +Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? + +TYBALT +Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, +A villain that is hither come in spite, +To scorn at our solemnity this night. + +CAPULET +Young Romeo is it? + +TYBALT +'Tis he, that villain Romeo. + +CAPULET +Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; +He bears him like a portly gentleman; +And, to say truth, Verona brags of him +To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: +I would not for the wealth of all the town +Here in my house do him disparagement: +Therefore be patient, take no note of him: +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, +And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. + +TYBALT +It fits, when such a villain is a guest: +I'll not endure him. + +CAPULET +He shall be endured: +What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; +Am I the master here, or you? go to. +You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! +You'll make a mutiny among my guests! +You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! + +TYBALT +Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. + +CAPULET +Go to, go to; +You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed? +This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: +You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. +Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: +Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! +I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! + +TYBALT +Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. +I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall +Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. + +Exit + +ROMEO +[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand +This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: +My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand +To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. + +JULIET +Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, +Which mannerly devotion shows in this; +For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, +And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. + +ROMEO +Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? + +JULIET +Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. + +ROMEO +O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; +They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. + +JULIET +Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. + +ROMEO +Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. +Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. + +JULIET +Then have my lips the sin that they have took. + +ROMEO +Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! +Give me my sin again. + +JULIET +You kiss by the book. + +Nurse +Madam, your mother craves a word with you. + +ROMEO +What is her mother? + +Nurse +Marry, bachelor, +Her mother is the lady of the house, +And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous +I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal; +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her +Shall have the chinks. + +ROMEO +Is she a Capulet? +O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. + +BENVOLIO +Away, begone; the sport is at the best. + +ROMEO +Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. + +CAPULET +Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; +We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. +Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all +I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. +More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. +Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late: +I'll to my rest. + +Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse + +JULIET +Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? + +Nurse +The son and heir of old Tiberio. + +JULIET +What's he that now is going out of door? + +Nurse +Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. + +JULIET +What's he that follows there, that would not dance? + +Nurse +I know not. + +JULIET +Go ask his name: if he be married. +My grave is like to be my wedding bed. + +Nurse +His name is Romeo, and a Montague; +The only son of your great enemy. + +JULIET +My only love sprung from my only hate! +Too early seen unknown, and known too late! +Prodigious birth of love it is to me, +That I must love a loathed enemy. + +Nurse +What's this? what's this? + +JULIET +A rhyme I learn'd even now +Of one I danced withal. + +One calls within 'Juliet.' + +Nurse +Anon, anon! +Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, +And young affection gapes to be his heir; +That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, +With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. +Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, +Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, +But to his foe supposed he must complain, +And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: +Being held a foe, he may not have access +To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; +And she as much in love, her means much less +To meet her new-beloved any where: +But passion lends them power, time means, to meet +Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. + +Exit + +SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +Can I go forward when my heart is here? +Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. + +He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO + +BENVOLIO +Romeo! my cousin Romeo! + +MERCUTIO +He is wise; +And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. + +BENVOLIO +He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: +Call, good Mercutio. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I'll conjure too. +Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! +Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: +Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; +Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' +Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, +One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, +Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, +When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; +The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. +I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, +By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, +By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh +And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, +That in thy likeness thou appear to us! + +BENVOLIO +And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. + +MERCUTIO +This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him +To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle +Of some strange nature, letting it there stand +Till she had laid it and conjured it down; +That were some spite: my invocation +Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name +I conjure only but to raise up him. + +BENVOLIO +Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, +To be consorted with the humorous night: +Blind is his love and best befits the dark. + +MERCUTIO +If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. +Now will he sit under a medlar tree, +And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit +As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. +Romeo, that she were, O, that she were +An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! +Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; +This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: +Come, shall we go? + +BENVOLIO +Go, then; for 'tis in vain +To seek him here that means not to be found. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +He jests at scars that never felt a wound. + +JULIET appears above at a window + +But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. +Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, +Who is already sick and pale with grief, +That thou her maid art far more fair than she: +Be not her maid, since she is envious; +Her vestal livery is but sick and green +And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. +It is my lady, O, it is my love! +O, that she knew she were! +She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? +Her eye discourses; I will answer it. +I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: +Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, +Having some business, do entreat her eyes +To twinkle in their spheres till they return. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head? +The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, +As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven +Would through the airy region stream so bright +That birds would sing and think it were not night. +See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! +O, that I were a glove upon that hand, +That I might touch that cheek! + +JULIET +Ay me! + +ROMEO +She speaks: +O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art +As glorious to this night, being o'er my head +As is a winged messenger of heaven +Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes +Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him +When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds +And sails upon the bosom of the air. + +JULIET +O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? +Deny thy father and refuse thy name; +Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, +And I'll no longer be a Capulet. + +ROMEO +[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? + +JULIET +'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; +Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. +What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, +Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part +Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! +What's in a name? that which we call a rose +By any other name would smell as sweet; +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, +Retain that dear perfection which he owes +Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, +And for that name which is no part of thee +Take all myself. + +ROMEO +I take thee at thy word: +Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; +Henceforth I never will be Romeo. + +JULIET +What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night +So stumblest on my counsel? + +ROMEO +By a name +I know not how to tell thee who I am: +My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, +Because it is an enemy to thee; +Had I it written, I would tear the word. + +JULIET +My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words +Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: +Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? + +ROMEO +Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. + +JULIET +How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? +The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here. + +ROMEO +With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; +For stony limits cannot hold love out, +And what love can do that dares love attempt; +Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. + +JULIET +If they do see thee, they will murder thee. + +ROMEO +Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye +Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, +And I am proof against their enmity. + +JULIET +I would not for the world they saw thee here. + +ROMEO +I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; +And but thou love me, let them find me here: +My life were better ended by their hate, +Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. + +JULIET +By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + +ROMEO +By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; +He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. +I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far +As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, +I would adventure for such merchandise. + +JULIET +Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, +Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek +For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night +Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny +What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! +Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' +And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, +Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries +Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, +If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: +Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, +I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, +So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. +In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, +And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: +But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true +Than those that have more cunning to be strange. +I should have been more strange, I must confess, +But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, +My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yielding to light love, +Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +ROMEO +Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear +That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- + +JULIET +O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, +That monthly changes in her circled orb, +Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. + +ROMEO +What shall I swear by? + +JULIET +Do not swear at all; +Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, +Which is the god of my idolatry, +And I'll believe thee. + +ROMEO +If my heart's dear love-- + +JULIET +Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, +I have no joy of this contract to-night: +It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; +Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be +Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! +This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, +May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. +Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest +Come to thy heart as that within my breast! + +ROMEO +O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? + +JULIET +What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? + +ROMEO +The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. + +JULIET +I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: +And yet I would it were to give again. + +ROMEO +Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? + +JULIET +But to be frank, and give it thee again. +And yet I wish but for the thing I have: +My bounty is as boundless as the sea, +My love as deep; the more I give to thee, +The more I have, for both are infinite. + +Nurse calls within + +I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! +Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. +Stay but a little, I will come again. + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. +Being in night, all this is but a dream, +Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. +If that thy bent of love be honourable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, +By one that I'll procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; +And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay +And follow thee my lord throughout the world. + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, +I do beseech thee-- + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +By and by, I come:-- +To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: +To-morrow will I send. + +ROMEO +So thrive my soul-- + +JULIET +A thousand times good night! + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. +Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from +their books, +But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. + +Retiring + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, +To lure this tassel-gentle back again! +Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; +Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, +And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, +With repetition of my Romeo's name. + +ROMEO +It is my soul that calls upon my name: +How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, +Like softest music to attending ears! + +JULIET +Romeo! + +ROMEO +My dear? + +JULIET +At what o'clock to-morrow +Shall I send to thee? + +ROMEO +At the hour of nine. + +JULIET +I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. +I have forgot why I did call thee back. + +ROMEO +Let me stand here till thou remember it. + +JULIET +I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, +Remembering how I love thy company. + +ROMEO +And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this. + +JULIET +'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: +And yet no further than a wanton's bird; +Who lets it hop a little from her hand, +Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, +And with a silk thread plucks it back again, +So loving-jealous of his liberty. + +ROMEO +I would I were thy bird. + +JULIET +Sweet, so would I: +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. +Good night, good night! parting is such +sweet sorrow, +That I shall say good night till it be morrow. + +Exit above + +ROMEO +Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! +Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! +Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, +His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket +FRIAR LAURENCE +The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, +Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, +And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels +From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: +Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, +The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, +I must up-fill this osier cage of ours +With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. +The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; +What is her burying grave that is her womb, +And from her womb children of divers kind +We sucking on her natural bosom find, +Many for many virtues excellent, +None but for some and yet all different. +O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies +In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: +For nought so vile that on the earth doth live +But to the earth some special good doth give, +Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use +Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: +Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; +And vice sometimes by action dignified. +Within the infant rind of this small flower +Poison hath residence and medicine power: +For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; +Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. +Two such opposed kings encamp them still +In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Good morrow, father. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Benedicite! +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young son, it argues a distemper'd head +So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: +Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, +And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; +But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain +Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: +Therefore thy earliness doth me assure +Thou art up-roused by some distemperature; +Or if not so, then here I hit it right, +Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. + +ROMEO +That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? + +ROMEO +With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; +I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? + +ROMEO +I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. +I have been feasting with mine enemy, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, +That's by me wounded: both our remedies +Within thy help and holy physic lies: +I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, +My intercession likewise steads my foe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; +Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. + +ROMEO +Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set +On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; +And all combined, save what thou must combine +By holy marriage: when and where and how +We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, +I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, +That thou consent to marry us to-day. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! +Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, +So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies +Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine +Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! +How much salt water thrown away in waste, +To season love, that of it doth not taste! +The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, +Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; +Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit +Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: +If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, +Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: +And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, +Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. + +ROMEO +Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. + +ROMEO +And bad'st me bury love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Not in a grave, +To lay one in, another out to have. + +ROMEO +I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now +Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; +The other did not so. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, she knew well +Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. +But come, young waverer, come, go with me, +In one respect I'll thy assistant be; +For this alliance may so happy prove, +To turn your households' rancour to pure love. + +ROMEO +O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO +MERCUTIO +Where the devil should this Romeo be? +Came he not home to-night? + +BENVOLIO +Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. + +MERCUTIO +Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. +Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, +Hath sent a letter to his father's house. + +MERCUTIO +A challenge, on my life. + +BENVOLIO +Romeo will answer it. + +MERCUTIO +Any man that can write may answer a letter. + +BENVOLIO +Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he +dares, being dared. + +MERCUTIO +Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a +white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a +love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the +blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to +encounter Tybalt? + +BENVOLIO +Why, what is Tybalt? + +MERCUTIO +More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is +the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as +you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and +proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and +the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk +button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the +very first house, of the first and second cause: +ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the +hai! + +BENVOLIO +The what? + +MERCUTIO +The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting +fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, +a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good +whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, +grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with +these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these +perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, +that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their +bones, their bones! + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. + +MERCUTIO +Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, +how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers +that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a +kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to +be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; +Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey +eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior +Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation +to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit +fairly last night. + +ROMEO +Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? + +MERCUTIO +The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? + +ROMEO +Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in +such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. + +MERCUTIO +That's as much as to say, such a case as yours +constrains a man to bow in the hams. + +ROMEO +Meaning, to court'sy. + +MERCUTIO +Thou hast most kindly hit it. + +ROMEO +A most courteous exposition. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. + +ROMEO +Pink for flower. + +MERCUTIO +Right. + +ROMEO +Why, then is my pump well flowered. + +MERCUTIO +Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast +worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it +is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. + +ROMEO +O single-soled jest, solely singular for the +singleness. + +MERCUTIO +Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. + +ROMEO +Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have +done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of +thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: +was I with you there for the goose? + +ROMEO +Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast +not there for the goose. + +MERCUTIO +I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. + +ROMEO +Nay, good goose, bite not. + +MERCUTIO +Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most +sharp sauce. + +ROMEO +And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? + +MERCUTIO +O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an +inch narrow to an ell broad! + +ROMEO +I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added +to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. + +MERCUTIO +Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? +now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art +thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: +for this drivelling love is like a great natural, +that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. + +BENVOLIO +Stop there, stop there. + +MERCUTIO +Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. + +BENVOLIO +Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. + +MERCUTIO +O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: +for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and +meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. + +ROMEO +Here's goodly gear! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +MERCUTIO +A sail, a sail! + +BENVOLIO +Two, two; a shirt and a smock. + +Nurse +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +My fan, Peter. + +MERCUTIO +Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the +fairer face. + +Nurse +God ye good morrow, gentlemen. + +MERCUTIO +God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. + +Nurse +Is it good den? + +MERCUTIO +'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the +dial is now upon the prick of noon. + +Nurse +Out upon you! what a man are you! + +ROMEO +One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to +mar. + +Nurse +By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' +quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I +may find the young Romeo? + +ROMEO +I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when +you have found him than he was when you sought him: +I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. + +Nurse +You say well. + +MERCUTIO +Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; +wisely, wisely. + +Nurse +if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with +you. + +BENVOLIO +She will indite him to some supper. + +MERCUTIO +A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! + +ROMEO +What hast thou found? + +MERCUTIO +No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, +that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. + +Sings + +An old hare hoar, +And an old hare hoar, +Is very good meat in lent +But a hare that is hoar +Is too much for a score, +When it hoars ere it be spent. +Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll +to dinner, thither. + +ROMEO +I will follow you. + +MERCUTIO +Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, + +Singing + +'lady, lady, lady.' + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +Nurse +Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy +merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? + +ROMEO +A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, +and will speak more in a minute than he will stand +to in a month. + +Nurse +An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him +down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such +Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. +Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am +none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by +too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? + +PETER +I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon +should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare +draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a +good quarrel, and the law on my side. + +Nurse +Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about +me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: +and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you +out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: +but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into +a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross +kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman +is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double +with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered +to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. + +ROMEO +Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I +protest unto thee-- + +Nurse +Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: +Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. + +ROMEO +What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. + +Nurse +I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as +I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. + +ROMEO +Bid her devise +Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; +And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell +Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. + +Nurse +No truly sir; not a penny. + +ROMEO +Go to; I say you shall. + +Nurse +This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. + +ROMEO +And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: +Within this hour my man shall be with thee +And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; +Which to the high top-gallant of my joy +Must be my convoy in the secret night. +Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: +Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. + +Nurse +Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. + +ROMEO +What say'st thou, my dear nurse? + +Nurse +Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, +Two may keep counsel, putting one away? + +ROMEO +I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. + +NURSE +Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, +Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there +is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain +lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief +see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her +sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer +man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks +as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not +rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? + +ROMEO +Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. + +Nurse +Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for +the--No; I know it begins with some other +letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of +it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good +to hear it. + +ROMEO +Commend me to thy lady. + +Nurse +Ay, a thousand times. + +Exit Romeo + +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; +In half an hour she promised to return. +Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. +O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, +Driving back shadows over louring hills: +Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. +Now is the sun upon the highmost hill +Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve +Is three long hours, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warm youthful blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball; +My words would bandy her to my sweet love, +And his to me: +But old folks, many feign as they were dead; +Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. +O God, she comes! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +O honey nurse, what news? +Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. + +Nurse +Peter, stay at the gate. + +Exit PETER + +JULIET +Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? +Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; +If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news +By playing it to me with so sour a face. + +Nurse +I am a-weary, give me leave awhile: +Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! + +JULIET +I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: +Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. + +Nurse +Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + +JULIET +How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath +To say to me that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay +Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; +Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: +Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? + +Nurse +Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not +how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his +face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels +all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, +though they be not to be talked on, yet they are +past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, +but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy +ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home? + +JULIET +No, no: but all this did I know before. +What says he of our marriage? what of that? + +Nurse +Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! +It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. +My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back! +Beshrew your heart for sending me about, +To catch my death with jaunting up and down! + +JULIET +I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. +Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? + +Nurse +Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a +courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I +warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother? + +JULIET +Where is my mother! why, she is within; +Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! +'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, +Where is your mother?' + +Nurse +O God's lady dear! +Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; +Is this the poultice for my aching bones? +Henceforward do your messages yourself. + +JULIET +Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? + +Nurse +Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? + +JULIET +I have. + +Nurse +Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell; +There stays a husband to make you a wife: +Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, +They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. +Hie you to church; I must another way, +To fetch a ladder, by the which your love +Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: +I am the drudge and toil in your delight, +But you shall bear the burden soon at night. +Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. + +JULIET +Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO +FRIAR LAURENCE +So smile the heavens upon this holy act, +That after hours with sorrow chide us not! + +ROMEO +Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, +It cannot countervail the exchange of joy +That one short minute gives me in her sight: +Do thou but close our hands with holy words, +Then love-devouring death do what he dare; +It is enough I may but call her mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +These violent delights have violent ends +And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, +Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his own deliciousness +And in the taste confounds the appetite: +Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; +Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. + +Enter JULIET + +Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot +Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: +A lover may bestride the gossamer +That idles in the wanton summer air, +And yet not fall; so light is vanity. + +JULIET +Good even to my ghostly confessor. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. + +JULIET +As much to him, else is his thanks too much. + +ROMEO +Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy +Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more +To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue +Unfold the imagined happiness that both +Receive in either by this dear encounter. + +JULIET +Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, +Brags of his substance, not of ornament: +They are but beggars that can count their worth; +But my true love is grown to such excess +I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, come with me, and we will make short work; +For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone +Till holy church incorporate two in one. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A public place. + +Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants +BENVOLIO +I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: +The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, +And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; +For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. + +MERCUTIO +Thou art like one of those fellows that when he +enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword +upon the table and says 'God send me no need of +thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws +it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. + +BENVOLIO +Am I like such a fellow? + +MERCUTIO +Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as +any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as +soon moody to be moved. + +BENVOLIO +And what to? + +MERCUTIO +Nay, an there were two such, we should have none +shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, +thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, +or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou +wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no +other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what +eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? +Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of +meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as +an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a +man for coughing in the street, because he hath +wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: +didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing +his new doublet before Easter? with another, for +tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou +wilt tutor me from quarrelling! + +BENVOLIO +An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man +should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. + +MERCUTIO +The fee-simple! O simple! + +BENVOLIO +By my head, here come the Capulets. + +MERCUTIO +By my heel, I care not. + +Enter TYBALT and others + +TYBALT +Follow me close, for I will speak to them. +Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. + +MERCUTIO +And but one word with one of us? couple it with +something; make it a word and a blow. + +TYBALT +You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you +will give me occasion. + +MERCUTIO +Could you not take some occasion without giving? + +TYBALT +Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- + +MERCUTIO +Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an +thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but +discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall +make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! + +BENVOLIO +We talk here in the public haunt of men: +Either withdraw unto some private place, +And reason coldly of your grievances, +Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. + +MERCUTIO +Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; +I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. + +Enter ROMEO + +TYBALT +Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man. + +MERCUTIO +But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: +Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; +Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' + +TYBALT +Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford +No better term than this,--thou art a villain. + +ROMEO +Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting: villain am I none; +Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not. + +TYBALT +Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries +That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw. + +ROMEO +I do protest, I never injured thee, +But love thee better than thou canst devise, +Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: +And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender +As dearly as my own,--be satisfied. + +MERCUTIO +O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! +Alla stoccata carries it away. + +Draws + +Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? + +TYBALT +What wouldst thou have with me? + +MERCUTIO +Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine +lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you +shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the +eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher +by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your +ears ere it be out. + +TYBALT +I am for you. + +Drawing + +ROMEO +Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. + +MERCUTIO +Come, sir, your passado. + +They fight + +ROMEO +Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. +Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! +Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath +Forbidden bandying in Verona streets: +Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! + +TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers + +MERCUTIO +I am hurt. +A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. +Is he gone, and hath nothing? + +BENVOLIO +What, art thou hurt? + +MERCUTIO +Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. +Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. + +Exit Page + +ROMEO +Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. + +MERCUTIO +No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for +me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I +am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' +both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a +cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a +rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of +arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I +was hurt under your arm. + +ROMEO +I thought all for the best. + +MERCUTIO +Help me into some house, Benvolio, +Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! +They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, +And soundly too: your houses! + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +ROMEO +This gentleman, the prince's near ally, +My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt +In my behalf; my reputation stain'd +With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour +Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, +Thy beauty hath made me effeminate +And in my temper soften'd valour's steel! + +Re-enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! +That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, +Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. + +ROMEO +This day's black fate on more days doth depend; +This but begins the woe, others must end. + +BENVOLIO +Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. + +ROMEO +Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! +Away to heaven, respective lenity, +And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! + +Re-enter TYBALT + +Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, +That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul +Is but a little way above our heads, +Staying for thine to keep him company: +Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. + +TYBALT +Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, +Shalt with him hence. + +ROMEO +This shall determine that. + +They fight; TYBALT falls + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, away, be gone! +The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. +Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, +If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! + +ROMEO +O, I am fortune's fool! + +BENVOLIO +Why dost thou stay? + +Exit ROMEO + +Enter Citizens, & c + +First Citizen +Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? +Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? + +BENVOLIO +There lies that Tybalt. + +First Citizen +Up, sir, go with me; +I charge thee in the princes name, obey. + +Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others + +PRINCE +Where are the vile beginners of this fray? + +BENVOLIO +O noble prince, I can discover all +The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: +There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. + +LADY CAPULET +Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! +O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt +O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, +For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. +O cousin, cousin! + +PRINCE +Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; +Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink +How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal +Your high displeasure: all this uttered +With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, +Could not take truce with the unruly spleen +Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts +With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, +And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats +Cold death aside, and with the other sends +It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, +Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, +'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than +his tongue, +His agile arm beats down their fatal points, +And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm +An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; +But by and by comes back to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, +And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I +Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. +And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. +This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. + +LADY CAPULET +He is a kinsman to the Montague; +Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: +Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; +Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. + +PRINCE +Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; +Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? + +MONTAGUE +Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; +His fault concludes but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt. + +PRINCE +And for that offence +Immediately we do exile him hence: +I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, +My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; +But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine +That you shall all repent the loss of mine: +I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; +Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: +Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, +Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. +Bear hence this body and attend our will: +Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, +Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner +As Phaethon would whip you to the west, +And bring in cloudy night immediately. +Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, +That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo +Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. +Lovers can see to do their amorous rites +By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, +It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, +Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, +And learn me how to lose a winning match, +Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: +Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, +With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, +Think true love acted simple modesty. +Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; +For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night +Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. +Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, +Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little stars, +And he will make the face of heaven so fine +That all the world will be in love with night +And pay no worship to the garish sun. +O, I have bought the mansion of a love, +But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold, +Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day +As is the night before some festival +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, +And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks +But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. + +Enter Nurse, with cords + +Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords +That Romeo bid thee fetch? + +Nurse +Ay, ay, the cords. + +Throws them down + +JULIET +Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? + +Nurse +Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! +We are undone, lady, we are undone! +Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! + +JULIET +Can heaven be so envious? + +Nurse +Romeo can, +Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo! +Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! + +JULIET +What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. +Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,' +And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more +Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: +I am not I, if there be such an I; +Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' +If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no: +Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. + +Nurse +I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-- +God save the mark!--here on his manly breast: +A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, +All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight. + +JULIET +O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! +To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! +Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here; +And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! + +Nurse +O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! +O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! +That ever I should live to see thee dead! + +JULIET +What storm is this that blows so contrary? +Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? +My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? +Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! +For who is living, if those two are gone? + +Nurse +Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; +Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. + +JULIET +O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? + +Nurse +It did, it did; alas the day, it did! + +JULIET +O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! +Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? +Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! +Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! +Despised substance of divinest show! +Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, +A damned saint, an honourable villain! +O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, +When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend +In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was ever book containing such vile matter +So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous palace! + +Nurse +There's no trust, +No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, +All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. +Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: +These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. +Shame come to Romeo! + +JULIET +Blister'd be thy tongue +For such a wish! he was not born to shame: +Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; +For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd +Sole monarch of the universal earth. +O, what a beast was I to chide at him! + +Nurse +Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? + +JULIET +Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? +Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, +When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? +But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? +That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: +Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; +Your tributary drops belong to woe, +Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. +My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; +And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: +All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? +Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, +That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; +But, O, it presses to my memory, +Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: +'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;' +That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' +Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death +Was woe enough, if it had ended there: +Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship +And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, +Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' +Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, +Which modern lamentations might have moved? +But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, +'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word, +Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, +All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!' +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. +Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? + +Nurse +Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse: +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. + +JULIET +Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, +When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. +Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, +Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: +He made you for a highway to my bed; +But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. +Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed; +And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! + +Nurse +Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo +To comfort you: I wot well where he is. +Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: +I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. + +JULIET +O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, +And bid him come to take his last farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: +Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, +And thou art wedded to calamity. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? +What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, +That I yet know not? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Too familiar +Is my dear son with such sour company: +I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. + +ROMEO +What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, +Not body's death, but body's banishment. + +ROMEO +Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' +For exile hath more terror in his look, +Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hence from Verona art thou banished: +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. + +ROMEO +There is no world without Verona walls, +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, +And world's exile is death: then banished, +Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, +Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, +And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! +Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, +Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, +And turn'd that black word death to banishment: +This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. + +ROMEO +'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, +Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog +And little mouse, every unworthy thing, +Live here in heaven and may look on her; +But Romeo may not: more validity, +More honourable state, more courtship lives +In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize +On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand +And steal immortal blessing from her lips, +Who even in pure and vestal modesty, +Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; +But Romeo may not; he is banished: +Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: +They are free men, but I am banished. +And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? +Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, +No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, +But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? +O friar, the damned use that word in hell; +Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, +Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, +A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, +To mangle me with that word 'banished'? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. + +ROMEO +O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: +Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished. + +ROMEO +Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! +Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, +Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, +It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, then I see that madmen have no ears. + +ROMEO +How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. + +ROMEO +Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: +Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, +An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me and like me banished, +Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, +And fall upon the ground, as I do now, +Taking the measure of an unmade grave. + +Knocking within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. + +ROMEO +Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, +Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. + +Knocking + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; +Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; + +Knocking + +Run to my study. By and by! God's will, +What simpleness is this! I come, I come! + +Knocking + +Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? + +Nurse +[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know +my errand; +I come from Lady Juliet. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Welcome, then. + +Enter Nurse + +Nurse +O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, +Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. + +Nurse +O, he is even in my mistress' case, +Just in her case! O woful sympathy! +Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, +Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. +Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: +For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; +Why should you fall into so deep an O? + +ROMEO +Nurse! + +Nurse +Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. + +ROMEO +Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? +Doth she not think me an old murderer, +Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy +With blood removed but little from her own? +Where is she? and how doth she? and what says +My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? + +Nurse +O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; +And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, +And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, +And then down falls again. + +ROMEO +As if that name, +Shot from the deadly level of a gun, +Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand +Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, +In what vile part of this anatomy +Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack +The hateful mansion. + +Drawing his sword + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold thy desperate hand: +Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: +Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote +The unreasonable fury of a beast: +Unseemly woman in a seeming man! +Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! +Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better temper'd. +Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? +And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, +By doing damned hate upon thyself? +Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? +Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet +In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. +Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; +Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, +And usest none in that true use indeed +Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: +Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, +Digressing from the valour of a man; +Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, +Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; +Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, +Misshapen in the conduct of them both, +Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, +Is set afire by thine own ignorance, +And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. +What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, +For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; +There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: +The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend +And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: +A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; +Happiness courts thee in her best array; +But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, +Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, +Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: +But look thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; +Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, +Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back +With twenty hundred thousand times more joy +Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. +Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: +Romeo is coming. + +Nurse +O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night +To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! +My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. + +ROMEO +Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. + +Nurse +Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: +Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. + +Exit + +ROMEO +How well my comfort is revived by this! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: +Either be gone before the watch be set, +Or by the break of day disguised from hence: +Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, +And he shall signify from time to time +Every good hap to you that chances here: +Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. + +ROMEO +But that a joy past joy calls out on me, +It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS +CAPULET +Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, +That we have had no time to move our daughter: +Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, +And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. +'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: +I promise you, but for your company, +I would have been a-bed an hour ago. + +PARIS +These times of woe afford no time to woo. +Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. + +LADY CAPULET +I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; +To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness. + +CAPULET +Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled +In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. +Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; +Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; +And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-- +But, soft! what day is this? + +PARIS +Monday, my lord, + +CAPULET +Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, +O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, +She shall be married to this noble earl. +Will you be ready? do you like this haste? +We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; +For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, +It may be thought we held him carelessly, +Being our kinsman, if we revel much: +Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + +PARIS +My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. + +CAPULET +Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then. +Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, +Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. +Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! +Afore me! it is so very very late, +That we may call it early by and by. +Good night. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window +JULIET +Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: +It was the nightingale, and not the lark, +That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; +Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: +Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. + +ROMEO +It was the lark, the herald of the morn, +No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks +Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: +Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day +Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. +I must be gone and live, or stay and die. + +JULIET +Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: +It is some meteor that the sun exhales, +To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, +And light thee on thy way to Mantua: +Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. + +ROMEO +Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; +I am content, so thou wilt have it so. +I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, +'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; +Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat +The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: +I have more care to stay than will to go: +Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. +How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. + +JULIET +It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! +It is the lark that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. +Some say the lark makes sweet division; +This doth not so, for she divideth us: +Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, +O, now I would they had changed voices too! +Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, +Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, +O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. + +ROMEO +More light and light; more dark and dark our woes! + +Enter Nurse, to the chamber + +Nurse +Madam! + +JULIET +Nurse? + +Nurse +Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: +The day is broke; be wary, look about. + +Exit + +JULIET +Then, window, let day in, and let life out. + +ROMEO +Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. + +He goeth down + +JULIET +Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! +I must hear from thee every day in the hour, +For in a minute there are many days: +O, by this count I shall be much in years +Ere I again behold my Romeo! + +ROMEO +Farewell! +I will omit no opportunity +That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + +JULIET +O think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + +ROMEO +I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve +For sweet discourses in our time to come. + +JULIET +O God, I have an ill-divining soul! +Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, +As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: +Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. + +ROMEO +And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: +Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! + +Exit + +JULIET +O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: +If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. +That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; +For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, +But send him back. + +LADY CAPULET +[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up? + +JULIET +Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? +Is she not down so late, or up so early? +What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +Why, how now, Juliet! + +JULIET +Madam, I am not well. + +LADY CAPULET +Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? +What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? +An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; +Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; +But much of grief shows still some want of wit. + +JULIET +Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. + +LADY CAPULET +So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend +Which you weep for. + +JULIET +Feeling so the loss, +Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, +As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. + +JULIET +What villain madam? + +LADY CAPULET +That same villain, Romeo. + +JULIET +[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- +God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; +And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. + +LADY CAPULET +That is, because the traitor murderer lives. + +JULIET +Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: +Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! + +LADY CAPULET +We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: +Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, +Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, +That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: +And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. + +JULIET +Indeed, I never shall be satisfied +With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- +Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To bear a poison, I would temper it; +That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, +Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors +To hear him named, and cannot come to him. +To wreak the love I bore my cousin +Upon his body that slaughter'd him! + +LADY CAPULET +Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. +But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. + +JULIET +And joy comes well in such a needy time: +What are they, I beseech your ladyship? + +LADY CAPULET +Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; +One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, +That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for. + +JULIET +Madam, in happy time, what day is that? + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, +The gallant, young and noble gentleman, +The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, +Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. + +JULIET +Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a joyful bride. +I wonder at this haste; that I must wed +Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. +I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, +I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, +Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! + +LADY CAPULET +Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, +And see how he will take it at your hands. + +Enter CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; +But for the sunset of my brother's son +It rains downright. +How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? +Evermore showering? In one little body +Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; +For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, +Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, +Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; +Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, +Without a sudden calm, will overset +Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! +Have you deliver'd to her our decree? + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. +I would the fool were married to her grave! + +CAPULET +Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. +How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? +Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, +Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought +So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? + +JULIET +Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: +Proud can I never be of what I hate; +But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. + +CAPULET +How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? +'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' +And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, +Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, +To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, +Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. +Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! +You tallow-face! + +LADY CAPULET +Fie, fie! what, are you mad? + +JULIET +Good father, I beseech you on my knees, +Hear me with patience but to speak a word. + +CAPULET +Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! +I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, +Or never after look me in the face: +Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; +My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest +That God had lent us but this only child; +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we have a curse in having her: +Out on her, hilding! + +Nurse +God in heaven bless her! +You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. + +CAPULET +And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, +Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. + +Nurse +I speak no treason. + +CAPULET +O, God ye god-den. + +Nurse +May not one speak? + +CAPULET +Peace, you mumbling fool! +Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; +For here we need it not. + +LADY CAPULET +You are too hot. + +CAPULET +God's bread! it makes me mad: +Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, +Alone, in company, still my care hath been +To have her match'd: and having now provided +A gentleman of noble parentage, +Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, +Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, +Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; +And then to have a wretched puling fool, +A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, +To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, +I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' +But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: +Graze where you will you shall not house with me: +Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. +Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: +An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; +And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in +the streets, +For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: +Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. + +Exit + +JULIET +Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, +That sees into the bottom of my grief? +O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! +Delay this marriage for a month, a week; +Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed +In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. + +LADY CAPULET +Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: +Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. + +Exit + +JULIET +O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? +My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; +How shall that faith return again to earth, +Unless that husband send it me from heaven +By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. +Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems +Upon so soft a subject as myself! +What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? +Some comfort, nurse. + +Nurse +Faith, here it is. +Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, +That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; +Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, +I think it best you married with the county. +O, he's a lovely gentleman! +Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, +Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye +As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, +I think you are happy in this second match, +For it excels your first: or if it did not, +Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were, +As living here and you no use of him. + +JULIET +Speakest thou from thy heart? + +Nurse +And from my soul too; +Or else beshrew them both. + +JULIET +Amen! + +Nurse +What? + +JULIET +Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. +Go in: and tell my lady I am gone, +Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, +To make confession and to be absolved. + +Nurse +Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. + +Exit + +JULIET +Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! +Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, +Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue +Which she hath praised him with above compare +So many thousand times? Go, counsellor; +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. +I'll to the friar, to know his remedy: +If all else fail, myself have power to die. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS +FRIAR LAURENCE +On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. + +PARIS +My father Capulet will have it so; +And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +You say you do not know the lady's mind: +Uneven is the course, I like it not. + +PARIS +Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, +And therefore have I little talk'd of love; +For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. +Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous +That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, +And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, +To stop the inundation of her tears; +Which, too much minded by herself alone, +May be put from her by society: +Now do you know the reason of this haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. +Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. + +Enter JULIET + +PARIS +Happily met, my lady and my wife! + +JULIET +That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. + +PARIS +That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. + +JULIET +What must be shall be. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's a certain text. + +PARIS +Come you to make confession to this father? + +JULIET +To answer that, I should confess to you. + +PARIS +Do not deny to him that you love me. + +JULIET +I will confess to you that I love him. + +PARIS +So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. + +JULIET +If I do so, it will be of more price, +Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. + +PARIS +Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. + +JULIET +The tears have got small victory by that; +For it was bad enough before their spite. + +PARIS +Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. + +JULIET +That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; +And what I spake, I spake it to my face. + +PARIS +Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. + +JULIET +It may be so, for it is not mine own. +Are you at leisure, holy father, now; +Or shall I come to you at evening mass? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. +My lord, we must entreat the time alone. + +PARIS +God shield I should disturb devotion! +Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye: +Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. + +Exit + +JULIET +O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, +Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; +It strains me past the compass of my wits: +I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this county. + +JULIET +Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, +Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: +If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife I'll help it presently. +God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; +And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, +Shall be the label to another deed, +Or my true heart with treacherous revolt +Turn to another, this shall slay them both: +Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, +Give me some present counsel, or, behold, +'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife +Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that +Which the commission of thy years and art +Could to no issue of true honour bring. +Be not so long to speak; I long to die, +If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, +Which craves as desperate an execution. +As that is desperate which we would prevent. +If, rather than to marry County Paris, +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, +Then is it likely thou wilt undertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That copest with death himself to scape from it: +And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. + +JULIET +O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, +From off the battlements of yonder tower; +Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk +Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; +Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, +O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, +With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; +Or bid me go into a new-made grave +And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; +Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; +And I will do it without fear or doubt, +To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent +To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: +To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; +Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: +Take thou this vial, being then in bed, +And this distilled liquor drink thou off; +When presently through all thy veins shall run +A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse +Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: +No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; +The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade +To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, +Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; +Each part, deprived of supple government, +Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: +And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death +Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, +And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. +Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes +To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: +Then, as the manner of our country is, +In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. +In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come: and he and I +Will watch thy waking, and that very night +Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame; +If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear, +Abate thy valour in the acting it. + +JULIET +Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous +In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed +To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. + +JULIET +Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford. +Farewell, dear father! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen +CAPULET +So many guests invite as here are writ. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. + +Second Servant +You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they +can lick their fingers. + +CAPULET +How canst thou try them so? + +Second Servant +Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his +own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his +fingers goes not with me. + +CAPULET +Go, be gone. + +Exit Second Servant + +We shall be much unfurnished for this time. +What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? + +Nurse +Ay, forsooth. + +CAPULET +Well, he may chance to do some good on her: +A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. + +Nurse +See where she comes from shrift with merry look. + +Enter JULIET + +CAPULET +How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? + +JULIET +Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition +To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd +By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, +And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! +Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. + +CAPULET +Send for the county; go tell him of this: +I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. + +JULIET +I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; +And gave him what becomed love I might, +Not step o'er the bounds of modesty. + +CAPULET +Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up: +This is as't should be. Let me see the county; +Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. +Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar, +Our whole city is much bound to him. + +JULIET +Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, +To help me sort such needful ornaments +As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? + +LADY CAPULET +No, not till Thursday; there is time enough. + +CAPULET +Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow. + +Exeunt JULIET and Nurse + +LADY CAPULET +We shall be short in our provision: +'Tis now near night. + +CAPULET +Tush, I will stir about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife: +Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; +I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone; +I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! +They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself +To County Paris, to prepare him up +Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, +Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter JULIET and Nurse +JULIET +Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, +I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, +For I have need of many orisons +To move the heavens to smile upon my state, +Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin. + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What, are you busy, ho? need you my help? + +JULIET +No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries +As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: +So please you, let me now be left alone, +And let the nurse this night sit up with you; +For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, +In this so sudden business. + +LADY CAPULET +Good night: +Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +JULIET +Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. +I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, +That almost freezes up the heat of life: +I'll call them back again to comfort me: +Nurse! What should she do here? +My dismal scene I needs must act alone. +Come, vial. +What if this mixture do not work at all? +Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? +No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. + +Laying down her dagger + +What if it be a poison, which the friar +Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, +Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, +For he hath still been tried a holy man. +How if, when I am laid into the tomb, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! +Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, +To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? +Or, if I live, is it not very like, +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place,-- +As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, +Where, for these many hundred years, the bones +Of all my buried ancestors are packed: +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, +Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, +At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- +Alack, alack, is it not like that I, +So early waking, what with loathsome smells, +And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, +That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- +O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Environed with all these hideous fears? +And madly play with my forefather's joints? +And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? +And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, +As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? +O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost +Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body +Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! +Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. + +She falls upon her bed, within the curtains + +SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. + +Nurse +They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd, +The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: +Look to the baked meats, good Angelica: +Spare not for the cost. + +Nurse +Go, you cot-quean, go, +Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow +For this night's watching. + +CAPULET +No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now +All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; +But I will watch you from such watching now. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +A jealous hood, a jealous hood! + +Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets + +Now, fellow, +What's there? + +First Servant +Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. + +CAPULET +Make haste, make haste. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, fetch drier logs: +Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. + +Second Servant +I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, +And never trouble Peter for the matter. + +Exit + +CAPULET +Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! +Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day: +The county will be here with music straight, +For so he said he would: I hear him near. + +Music within + +Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say! + +Re-enter Nurse + +Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; +I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, +Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already: +Make haste, I say. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter Nurse +Nurse +Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: +Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed! +Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride! +What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now; +Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, +The County Paris hath set up his rest, +That you shall rest but little. God forgive me, +Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! +I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam! +Ay, let the county take you in your bed; +He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be? + +Undraws the curtains + +What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! +I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady! +Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead! +O, well-a-day, that ever I was born! +Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady! + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What noise is here? + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +What is the matter? + +Nurse +Look, look! O heavy day! + +LADY CAPULET +O me, O me! My child, my only life, +Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! +Help, help! Call help. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. + +Nurse +She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day! + +LADY CAPULET +Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! + +CAPULET +Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold: +Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; +Life and these lips have long been separated: +Death lies on her like an untimely frost +Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +O woful time! + +CAPULET +Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, +Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, is the bride ready to go to church? + +CAPULET +Ready to go, but never to return. +O son! the night before thy wedding-day +Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowered by him. +Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; +My daughter he hath wedded: I will die, +And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's. + +PARIS +Have I thought long to see this morning's face, +And doth it give me such a sight as this? + +LADY CAPULET +Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! +Most miserable hour that e'er time saw +In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! +But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, +But one thing to rejoice and solace in, +And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! + +Nurse +O woe! O woful, woful, woful day! +Most lamentable day, most woful day, +That ever, ever, I did yet behold! +O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! +Never was seen so black a day as this: +O woful day, O woful day! + +PARIS +Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! +Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, +By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! +O love! O life! not life, but love in death! + +CAPULET +Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! +Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now +To murder, murder our solemnity? +O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! +Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; +And with my child my joys are buried. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not +In these confusions. Heaven and yourself +Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, +And all the better is it for the maid: +Your part in her you could not keep from death, +But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. +The most you sought was her promotion; +For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced: +And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced +Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? +O, in this love, you love your child so ill, +That you run mad, seeing that she is well: +She's not well married that lives married long; +But she's best married that dies married young. +Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary +On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, +In all her best array bear her to church: +For though fond nature bids us an lament, +Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. + +CAPULET +All things that we ordained festival, +Turn from their office to black funeral; +Our instruments to melancholy bells, +Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, +Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, +Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, +And all things change them to the contrary. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him; +And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare +To follow this fair corse unto her grave: +The heavens do lour upon you for some ill; +Move them no more by crossing their high will. + +Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE + +First Musician +Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. + +Nurse +Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up; +For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. + +Exit + +First Musician +Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. + +Enter PETER + +PETER +Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's +ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.' + +First Musician +Why 'Heart's ease?' + +PETER +O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My +heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump, +to comfort me. + +First Musician +Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. + +PETER +You will not, then? + +First Musician +No. + +PETER +I will then give it you soundly. + +First Musician +What will you give us? + +PETER +No money, on my faith, but the gleek; +I will give you the minstrel. + +First Musician +Then I will give you the serving-creature. + +PETER +Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on +your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, +I'll fa you; do you note me? + +First Musician +An you re us and fa us, you note us. + +Second Musician +Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. + +PETER +Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you +with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer +me like men: +'When griping grief the heart doth wound, +And doleful dumps the mind oppress, +Then music with her silver sound'-- +why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver +sound'? What say you, Simon Catling? + +Musician +Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. + +PETER +Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? + +Second Musician +I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver. + +PETER +Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost? + +Third Musician +Faith, I know not what to say. + +PETER +O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say +for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,' +because musicians have no gold for sounding: +'Then music with her silver sound +With speedy help doth lend redress.' + +Exit + +First Musician +What a pestilent knave is this same! + +Second Musician +Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the +mourners, and stay dinner. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Mantua. A street. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, +My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: +My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; +And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit +Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. +I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- +Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave +to think!-- +And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, +That I revived, and was an emperor. +Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, +When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! + +Enter BALTHASAR, booted + +News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! +Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? +How doth my lady? Is my father well? +How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; +For nothing can be ill, if she be well. + +BALTHASAR +Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: +Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, +And her immortal part with angels lives. +I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, +And presently took post to tell it you: +O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, +Since you did leave it for my office, sir. + +ROMEO +Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! +Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, +And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. + +BALTHASAR +I do beseech you, sir, have patience: +Your looks are pale and wild, and do import +Some misadventure. + +ROMEO +Tush, thou art deceived: +Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? + +BALTHASAR +No, my good lord. + +ROMEO +No matter: get thee gone, +And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. + +Exit BALTHASAR + +Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. +Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! +I do remember an apothecary,-- +And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted +In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, +Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, +Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: +And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, +An alligator stuff'd, and other skins +Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves +A beggarly account of empty boxes, +Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, +Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, +Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. +Noting this penury, to myself I said +'An if a man did need a poison now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' +O, this same thought did but forerun my need; +And this same needy man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house. +Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. +What, ho! apothecary! + +Enter Apothecary + +Apothecary +Who calls so loud? + +ROMEO +Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor: +Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have +A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear +As will disperse itself through all the veins +That the life-weary taker may fall dead +And that the trunk may be discharged of breath +As violently as hasty powder fired +Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. + +Apothecary +Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law +Is death to any he that utters them. + +ROMEO +Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, +And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, +Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, +Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; +The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; +The world affords no law to make thee rich; +Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. + +Apothecary +My poverty, but not my will, consents. + +ROMEO +I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. + +Apothecary +Put this in any liquid thing you will, +And drink it off; and, if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. + +ROMEO +There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, +Doing more murders in this loathsome world, +Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. +I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. +Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. +Come, cordial and not poison, go with me +To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR JOHN +FRIAR JOHN +Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE + +FRIAR LAURENCE +This same should be the voice of Friar John. +Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? +Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. + +FRIAR JOHN +Going to find a bare-foot brother out +One of our order, to associate me, +Here in this city visiting the sick, +And finding him, the searchers of the town, +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did reign, +Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; +So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo? + +FRIAR JOHN +I could not send it,--here it is again,-- +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearful were they of infection. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, +The letter was not nice but full of charge +Of dear import, and the neglecting it +May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; +Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight +Unto my cell. + +FRIAR JOHN +Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. + +Exit + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Now must I to the monument alone; +Within three hours will fair Juliet wake: +She will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents; +But I will write again to Mantua, +And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; +Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets. + +Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch +PARIS +Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: +Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. +Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, +Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; +So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, +Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves, +But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, +As signal that thou hear'st something approach. +Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. + +PAGE +[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. + +Retires + +PARIS +Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,-- +O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;-- +Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, +Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: +The obsequies that I for thee will keep +Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. + +The Page whistles + +The boy gives warning something doth approach. +What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, +To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? +What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. + +Retires + +Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c + +ROMEO +Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. +Hold, take this letter; early in the morning +See thou deliver it to my lord and father. +Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, +Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death, +Is partly to behold my lady's face; +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger +A precious ring, a ring that I must use +In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: +But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry +In what I further shall intend to do, +By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint +And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: +The time and my intents are savage-wild, +More fierce and more inexorable far +Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. + +BALTHASAR +I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +ROMEO +So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: +Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. + +BALTHASAR +[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: +His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. + +Retires + +ROMEO +Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, +Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, +Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, +And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! + +Opens the tomb + +PARIS +This is that banish'd haughty Montague, +That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, +It is supposed, the fair creature died; +And here is come to do some villanous shame +To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. + +Comes forward + +Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! +Can vengeance be pursued further than death? +Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: +Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. + +ROMEO +I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; +Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, +Put not another sin upon my head, +By urging me to fury: O, be gone! +By heaven, I love thee better than myself; +For I come hither arm'd against myself: +Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, +A madman's mercy bade thee run away. + +PARIS +I do defy thy conjurations, +And apprehend thee for a felon here. + +ROMEO +Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! + +They fight + +PAGE +O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. + +Exit + +PARIS +O, I am slain! + +Falls + +If thou be merciful, +Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. + +Dies + +ROMEO +In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. +Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! +What said my man, when my betossed soul +Did not attend him as we rode? I think +He told me Paris should have married Juliet: +Said he not so? or did I dream it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, +To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, +One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! +I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; +A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, +For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes +This vault a feasting presence full of light. +Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. + +Laying PARIS in the tomb + +How oft when men are at the point of death +Have they been merry! which their keepers call +A lightning before death: O, how may I +Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! +Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: +Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet +Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, +And death's pale flag is not advanced there. +Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? +O, what more favour can I do to thee, +Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain +To sunder his that was thine enemy? +Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, +Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe +That unsubstantial death is amorous, +And that the lean abhorred monster keeps +Thee here in dark to be his paramour? +For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; +And never from this palace of dim night +Depart again: here, here will I remain +With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here +Will I set up my everlasting rest, +And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars +From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! +Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you +The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss +A dateless bargain to engrossing death! +Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! +Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on +The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! +Here's to my love! + +Drinks + +O true apothecary! +Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. + +Dies + +Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night +Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? + +BALTHASAR +Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, +What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light +To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, +It burneth in the Capel's monument. + +BALTHASAR +It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, +One that you love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who is it? + +BALTHASAR +Romeo. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +How long hath he been there? + +BALTHASAR +Full half an hour. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go with me to the vault. + +BALTHASAR +I dare not, sir +My master knows not but I am gone hence; +And fearfully did menace me with death, +If I did stay to look on his intents. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: +O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. + +BALTHASAR +As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, +I dreamt my master and another fought, +And that my master slew him. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo! + +Advances + +Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains +The stony entrance of this sepulchre? +What mean these masterless and gory swords +To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? + +Enters the tomb + +Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? +And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour +Is guilty of this lamentable chance! +The lady stirs. + +JULIET wakes + +JULIET +O comfortable friar! where is my lord? +I do remember well where I should be, +And there I am. Where is my Romeo? + +Noise within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: +A greater power than we can contradict +Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. +Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; +And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee +Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: +Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; +Come, go, good Juliet, + +Noise again + +I dare no longer stay. + +JULIET +Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. + +Exit FRIAR LAURENCE + +What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? +Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: +O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop +To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; +Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, +To make die with a restorative. + +Kisses him + +Thy lips are warm. + +First Watchman +[Within] Lead, boy: which way? + +JULIET +Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! + +Snatching ROMEO's dagger + +This is thy sheath; + +Stabs herself + +there rust, and let me die. + +Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies + +Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS + +PAGE +This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. + +First Watchman +The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: +Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. +Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, +And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, +Who here hath lain these two days buried. +Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: +Raise up the Montagues: some others search: +We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; +But the true ground of all these piteous woes +We cannot without circumstance descry. + +Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR + +Second Watchman +Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. + +First Watchman +Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. + +Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE + +Third Watchman +Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: +We took this mattock and this spade from him, +As he was coming from this churchyard side. + +First Watchman +A great suspicion: stay the friar too. + +Enter the PRINCE and Attendants + +PRINCE +What misadventure is so early up, +That calls our person from our morning's rest? + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others + +CAPULET +What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? + +LADY CAPULET +The people in the street cry Romeo, +Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, +With open outcry toward our monument. + +PRINCE +What fear is this which startles in our ears? + +First Watchman +Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; +And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, +Warm and new kill'd. + +PRINCE +Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. + +First Watchman +Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; +With instruments upon them, fit to open +These dead men's tombs. + +CAPULET +O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! +This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house +Is empty on the back of Montague,-- +And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! + +LADY CAPULET +O me! this sight of death is as a bell, +That warns my old age to a sepulchre. + +Enter MONTAGUE and others + +PRINCE +Come, Montague; for thou art early up, +To see thy son and heir more early down. + +MONTAGUE +Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; +Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: +What further woe conspires against mine age? + +PRINCE +Look, and thou shalt see. + +MONTAGUE +O thou untaught! what manners is in this? +To press before thy father to a grave? + +PRINCE +Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, +Till we can clear these ambiguities, +And know their spring, their head, their +true descent; +And then will I be general of your woes, +And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, +And let mischance be slave to patience. +Bring forth the parties of suspicion. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I am the greatest, able to do least, +Yet most suspected, as the time and place +Doth make against me of this direful murder; +And here I stand, both to impeach and purge +Myself condemned and myself excused. + +PRINCE +Then say at once what thou dost know in this. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I will be brief, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; +And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: +I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day +Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death +Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, +For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. +You, to remove that siege of grief from her, +Betroth'd and would have married her perforce +To County Paris: then comes she to me, +And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean +To rid her from this second marriage, +Or in my cell there would she kill herself. +Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, +A sleeping potion; which so took effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, +That he should hither come as this dire night, +To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, +Being the time the potion's force should cease. +But he which bore my letter, Friar John, +Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight +Return'd my letter back. Then all alone +At the prefixed hour of her waking, +Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; +Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, +Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: +But when I came, some minute ere the time +Of her awaking, here untimely lay +The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. +She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, +And bear this work of heaven with patience: +But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; +And she, too desperate, would not go with me, +But, as it seems, did violence on herself. +All this I know; and to the marriage +Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this +Miscarried by my fault, let my old life +Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, +Unto the rigour of severest law. + +PRINCE +We still have known thee for a holy man. +Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? + +BALTHASAR +I brought my master news of Juliet's death; +And then in post he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same monument. +This letter he early bid me give his father, +And threatened me with death, going in the vault, +I departed not and left him there. + +PRINCE +Give me the letter; I will look on it. +Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? +Sirrah, what made your master in this place? + +PAGE +He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; +And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: +Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; +And by and by my master drew on him; +And then I ran away to call the watch. + +PRINCE +This letter doth make good the friar's words, +Their course of love, the tidings of her death: +And here he writes that he did buy a poison +Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal +Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. +Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! +See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, +That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. +And I for winking at your discords too +Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. + +CAPULET +O brother Montague, give me thy hand: +This is my daughter's jointure, for no more +Can I demand. + +MONTAGUE +But I can give thee more: +For I will raise her statue in pure gold; +That while Verona by that name is known, +There shall no figure at such rate be set +As that of true and faithful Juliet. + +CAPULET +As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; +Poor sacrifices of our enmity! + +PRINCE +A glooming peace this morning with it brings; +The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: +Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; +Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: +For never was a story of more woe +Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. + +Exeunt +Antony and Cleopatra +Shakespeare homepage | Antony and Cleopatra | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO +PHILO +Nay, but this dotage of our general's +O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, +That o'er the files and musters of the war +Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, +The office and devotion of their view +Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, +Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst +The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper, +And is become the bellows and the fan +To cool a gipsy's lust. + +Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her + +Look, where they come: +Take but good note, and you shall see in him. +The triple pillar of the world transform'd +Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. + +CLEOPATRA +If it be love indeed, tell me how much. + +MARK ANTONY +There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. + +MARK ANTONY +Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +News, my good lord, from Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Grates me: the sum. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, hear them, Antony: +Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows +If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent +His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this; +Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; +Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' + +MARK ANTONY +How, my love! + +CLEOPATRA +Perchance! nay, and most like: +You must not stay here longer, your dismission +Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony. +Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both? +Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, +Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine +Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame +When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! + +MARK ANTONY +Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch +Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space. +Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike +Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life +Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair + +Embracing + +And such a twain can do't, in which I bind, +On pain of punishment, the world to weet +We stand up peerless. + +CLEOPATRA +Excellent falsehood! +Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? +I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony +Will be himself. + +MARK ANTONY +But stirr'd by Cleopatra. +Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, +Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: +There's not a minute of our lives should stretch +Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? + +CLEOPATRA +Hear the ambassadors. + +MARK ANTONY +Fie, wrangling queen! +Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, +To weep; whose every passion fully strives +To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! +No messenger, but thine; and all alone +To-night we'll wander through the streets and note +The qualities of people. Come, my queen; +Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with their train + +DEMETRIUS +Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? + +PHILO +Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, +He comes too short of that great property +Which still should go with Antony. + +DEMETRIUS +I am full sorry +That he approves the common liar, who +Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope +Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. Another room. + +Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer +CHARMIAN +Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, +almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer +that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew +this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns +with garlands! + +ALEXAS +Soothsayer! + +Soothsayer +Your will? + +CHARMIAN +Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? + +Soothsayer +In nature's infinite book of secrecy +A little I can read. + +ALEXAS +Show him your hand. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough +Cleopatra's health to drink. + +CHARMIAN +Good sir, give me good fortune. + +Soothsayer +I make not, but foresee. + +CHARMIAN +Pray, then, foresee me one. + +Soothsayer +You shall be yet far fairer than you are. + +CHARMIAN +He means in flesh. + +IRAS +No, you shall paint when you are old. + +CHARMIAN +Wrinkles forbid! + +ALEXAS +Vex not his prescience; be attentive. + +CHARMIAN +Hush! + +Soothsayer +You shall be more beloving than beloved. + +CHARMIAN +I had rather heat my liver with drinking. + +ALEXAS +Nay, hear him. + +CHARMIAN +Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married +to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: +let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry +may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius +Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. + +Soothsayer +You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. + +CHARMIAN +O excellent! I love long life better than figs. + +Soothsayer +You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune +Than that which is to approach. + +CHARMIAN +Then belike my children shall have no names: +prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? + +Soothsayer +If every of your wishes had a womb. +And fertile every wish, a million. + +CHARMIAN +Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. + +ALEXAS +You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, come, tell Iras hers. + +ALEXAS +We'll know all our fortunes. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall +be--drunk to bed. + +IRAS +There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. + +CHARMIAN +E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. + +IRAS +Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful +prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, +tell her but a worky-day fortune. + +Soothsayer +Your fortunes are alike. + +IRAS +But how, but how? give me particulars. + +Soothsayer +I have said. + +IRAS +Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? + +CHARMIAN +Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than +I, where would you choose it? + +IRAS +Not in my husband's nose. + +CHARMIAN +Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come, +his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman +that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let +her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst +follow worse, till the worst of all follow him +laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good +Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a +matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! + +IRAS +Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! +for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man +loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a +foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep +decorum, and fortune him accordingly! + +CHARMIAN +Amen. + +ALEXAS +Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a +cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but +they'ld do't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Hush! here comes Antony. + +CHARMIAN +Not he; the queen. + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +CLEOPATRA +Saw you my lord? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Was he not here? + +CHARMIAN +No, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden +A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Seek him, and bring him hither. +Where's Alexas? + +ALEXAS +Here, at your service. My lord approaches. + +CLEOPATRA +We will not look upon him: go with us. + +Exeunt + +Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants + +Messenger +Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. + +MARK ANTONY +Against my brother Lucius? + +Messenger +Ay: +But soon that war had end, and the time's state +Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar; +Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, +Upon the first encounter, drave them. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, what worst? + +Messenger +The nature of bad news infects the teller. + +MARK ANTONY +When it concerns the fool or coward. On: +Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus: +Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, +I hear him as he flatter'd. + +Messenger +Labienus-- +This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force, +Extended Asia from Euphrates; +His conquering banner shook from Syria +To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst-- + +MARK ANTONY +Antony, thou wouldst say,-- + +Messenger +O, my lord! + +MARK ANTONY +Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: +Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome; +Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults +With such full licence as both truth and malice +Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, +When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us +Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. + +Messenger +At your noble pleasure. + +Exit + +MARK ANTONY +From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! + +First Attendant +The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one? + +Second Attendant +He stays upon your will. + +MARK ANTONY +Let him appear. +These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, +Or lose myself in dotage. + +Enter another Messenger + +What are you? + +Second Messenger +Fulvia thy wife is dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Where died she? + +Second Messenger +In Sicyon: +Her length of sickness, with what else more serious +Importeth thee to know, this bears. + +Gives a letter + +MARK ANTONY +Forbear me. + +Exit Second Messenger + +There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: +What our contempt doth often hurl from us, +We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, +By revolution lowering, does become +The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; +The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. +I must from this enchanting queen break off: +Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, +My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus! + +Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's your pleasure, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +I must with haste from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, then, we kill all our women: +we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; +if they suffer our departure, death's the word. + +MARK ANTONY +I must be gone. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were +pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between +them and a great cause, they should be esteemed +nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of +this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty +times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is +mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon +her, she hath such a celerity in dying. + +MARK ANTONY +She is cunning past man's thought. + +Exit ALEXAS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but +the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her +winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater +storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this +cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a +shower of rain as well as Jove. + +MARK ANTONY +Would I had never seen her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece +of work; which not to have been blest withal would +have discredited your travel. + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir? + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Fulvia! + +MARK ANTONY +Dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When +it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man +from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; +comforting therein, that when old robes are worn +out, there are members to make new. If there were +no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, +and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned +with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new +petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion +that should water this sorrow. + +MARK ANTONY +The business she hath broached in the state +Cannot endure my absence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And the business you have broached here cannot be +without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which +wholly depends on your abode. + +MARK ANTONY +No more light answers. Let our officers +Have notice what we purpose. I shall break +The cause of our expedience to the queen, +And get her leave to part. For not alone +The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, +Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too +Of many our contriving friends in Rome +Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius +Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands +The empire of the sea: our slippery people, +Whose love is never link'd to the deserver +Till his deserts are past, begin to throw +Pompey the Great and all his dignities +Upon his son; who, high in name and power, +Higher than both in blood and life, stands up +For the main soldier: whose quality, going on, +The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding, +Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, +And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure, +To such whose place is under us, requires +Our quick remove from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall do't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Another room. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is he? + +CHARMIAN +I did not see him since. + +CLEOPATRA +See where he is, who's with him, what he does: +I did not send you: if you find him sad, +Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report +That I am sudden sick: quick, and return. + +Exit ALEXAS + +CHARMIAN +Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, +You do not hold the method to enforce +The like from him. + +CLEOPATRA +What should I do, I do not? + +CHARMIAN +In each thing give him way, cross him nothing. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. + +CHARMIAN +Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: +In time we hate that which we often fear. +But here comes Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY + +CLEOPATRA +I am sick and sullen. + +MARK ANTONY +I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: +It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature +Will not sustain it. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, my dearest queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, stand further from me. + +MARK ANTONY +What's the matter? + +CLEOPATRA +I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. +What says the married woman? You may go: +Would she had never given you leave to come! +Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here: +I have no power upon you; hers you are. + +MARK ANTONY +The gods best know,-- + +CLEOPATRA +O, never was there queen +So mightily betray'd! yet at the first +I saw the treasons planted. + +MARK ANTONY +Cleopatra,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Why should I think you can be mine and true, +Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, +Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, +To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, +Which break themselves in swearing! + +MARK ANTONY +Most sweet queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, +But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, +Then was the time for words: no going then; +Eternity was in our lips and eyes, +Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor, +But was a race of heaven: they are so still, +Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, +Art turn'd the greatest liar. + +MARK ANTONY +How now, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know +There were a heart in Egypt. + +MARK ANTONY +Hear me, queen: +The strong necessity of time commands +Our services awhile; but my full heart +Remains in use with you. Our Italy +Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius +Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: +Equality of two domestic powers +Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength, +Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, +Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace, +Into the hearts of such as have not thrived +Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; +And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge +By any desperate change: my more particular, +And that which most with you should safe my going, +Is Fulvia's death. + +CLEOPATRA +Though age from folly could not give me freedom, +It does from childishness: can Fulvia die? + +MARK ANTONY +She's dead, my queen: +Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read +The garboils she awaked; at the last, best: +See when and where she died. + +CLEOPATRA +O most false love! +Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill +With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, +In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. + +MARK ANTONY +Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know +The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, +As you shall give the advice. By the fire +That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence +Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war +As thou affect'st. + +CLEOPATRA +Cut my lace, Charmian, come; +But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, +So Antony loves. + +MARK ANTONY +My precious queen, forbear; +And give true evidence to his love, which stands +An honourable trial. + +CLEOPATRA +So Fulvia told me. +I prithee, turn aside and weep for her, +Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears +Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene +Of excellent dissembling; and let it look +Life perfect honour. + +MARK ANTONY +You'll heat my blood: no more. + +CLEOPATRA +You can do better yet; but this is meetly. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, by my sword,-- + +CLEOPATRA +And target. Still he mends; +But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, +How this Herculean Roman does become +The carriage of his chafe. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll leave you, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Courteous lord, one word. +Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: +Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it; +That you know well: something it is I would, +O, my oblivion is a very Antony, +And I am all forgotten. + +MARK ANTONY +But that your royalty +Holds idleness your subject, I should take you +For idleness itself. + +CLEOPATRA +'Tis sweating labour +To bear such idleness so near the heart +As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; +Since my becomings kill me, when they do not +Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence; +Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly. +And all the gods go with you! upon your sword +Sit laurel victory! and smooth success +Be strew'd before your feet! + +MARK ANTONY +Let us go. Come; +Our separation so abides, and flies, +That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, +And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS, and their Train +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, +It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate +Our great competitor: from Alexandria +This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes +The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like +Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy +More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or +Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there +A man who is the abstract of all faults +That all men follow. + +LEPIDUS +I must not think there are +Evils enow to darken all his goodness: +His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, +More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, +Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, +Than what he chooses. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not +Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; +To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit +And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; +To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet +With knaves that smell of sweat: say this +becomes him,-- +As his composure must be rare indeed +Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony +No way excuse his soils, when we do bear +So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd +His vacancy with his voluptuousness, +Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, +Call on him for't: but to confound such time, +That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud +As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid +As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, +Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, +And so rebel to judgment. + +Enter a Messenger + +LEPIDUS +Here's more news. + +Messenger +Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, +Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report +How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea; +And it appears he is beloved of those +That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports +The discontents repair, and men's reports +Give him much wrong'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I should have known no less. +It hath been taught us from the primal state, +That he which is was wish'd until he were; +And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love, +Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, +Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, +Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, +To rot itself with motion. + +Messenger +Caesar, I bring thee word, +Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, +Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound +With keels of every kind: many hot inroads +They make in Italy; the borders maritime +Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: +No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon +Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more +Than could his war resisted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Antony, +Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once +Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st +Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel +Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, +Though daintily brought up, with patience more +Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink +The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle +Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign +The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; +Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, +The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps +It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh, +Which some did die to look on: and all this-- +It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-- +Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek +So much as lank'd not. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis pity of him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let his shames quickly +Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain +Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end +Assemble we immediate council: Pompey +Thrives in our idleness. + +LEPIDUS +To-morrow, Caesar, +I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly +Both what by sea and land I can be able +To front this present time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Till which encounter, +It is my business too. Farewell. + +LEPIDUS +Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime +Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, +To let me be partaker. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Doubt not, sir; +I knew it for my bond. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Charmian! + +CHARMIAN +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Ha, ha! +Give me to drink mandragora. + +CHARMIAN +Why, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +That I might sleep out this great gap of time +My Antony is away. + +CHARMIAN +You think of him too much. + +CLEOPATRA +O, 'tis treason! + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I trust, not so. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou, eunuch Mardian! + +MARDIAN +What's your highness' pleasure? + +CLEOPATRA +Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure +In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee, +That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts +May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? + +MARDIAN +Yes, gracious madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed! + +MARDIAN +Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing +But what indeed is honest to be done: +Yet have I fierce affections, and think +What Venus did with Mars. + +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, +Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? +Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? +O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! +Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest? +The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm +And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, +Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?' +For so he calls me: now I feed myself +With most delicious poison. Think on me, +That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, +And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, +When thou wast here above the ground, I was +A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey +Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; +There would he anchor his aspect and die +With looking on his life. + +Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR + +ALEXAS +Sovereign of Egypt, hail! + +CLEOPATRA +How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! +Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath +With his tinct gilded thee. +How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? + +ALEXAS +Last thing he did, dear queen, +He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,-- +This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. + +CLEOPATRA +Mine ear must pluck it thence. + +ALEXAS +'Good friend,' quoth he, +'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends +This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, +To mend the petty present, I will piece +Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east, +Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded, +And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, +Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke +Was beastly dumb'd by him. + +CLEOPATRA +What, was he sad or merry? + +ALEXAS +Like to the time o' the year between the extremes +Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. + +CLEOPATRA +O well-divided disposition! Note him, +Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him: +He was not sad, for he would shine on those +That make their looks by his; he was not merry, +Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay +In Egypt with his joy; but between both: +O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry, +The violence of either thee becomes, +So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts? + +ALEXAS +Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: +Why do you send so thick? + +CLEOPATRA +Who's born that day +When I forget to send to Antony, +Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. +Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, +Ever love Caesar so? + +CHARMIAN +O that brave Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +Be choked with such another emphasis! +Say, the brave Antony. + +CHARMIAN +The valiant Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, +If thou with Caesar paragon again +My man of men. + +CHARMIAN +By your most gracious pardon, +I sing but after you. + +CLEOPATRA +My salad days, +When I was green in judgment: cold in blood, +To say as I said then! But, come, away; +Get me ink and paper: +He shall have every day a several greeting, +Or I'll unpeople Egypt. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Messina. POMPEY's house. + +Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike manner +POMPEY +If the great gods be just, they shall assist +The deeds of justest men. + +MENECRATES +Know, worthy Pompey, +That what they do delay, they not deny. + +POMPEY +Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays +The thing we sue for. + +MENECRATES +We, ignorant of ourselves, +Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers +Deny us for our good; so find we profit +By losing of our prayers. + +POMPEY +I shall do well: +The people love me, and the sea is mine; +My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope +Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony +In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make +No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where +He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, +Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, +Nor either cares for him. + +MENAS +Caesar and Lepidus +Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. + +POMPEY +Where have you this? 'tis false. + +MENAS +From Silvius, sir. + +POMPEY +He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, +Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, +Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip! +Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! +Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, +Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks +Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite; +That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour +Even till a Lethe'd dulness! + +Enter VARRIUS + +How now, Varrius! + +VARRIUS +This is most certain that I shall deliver: +Mark Antony is every hour in Rome +Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis +A space for further travel. + +POMPEY +I could have given less matter +A better ear. Menas, I did not think +This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm +For such a petty war: his soldiership +Is twice the other twain: but let us rear +The higher our opinion, that our stirring +Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck +The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony. + +MENAS +I cannot hope +Caesar and Antony shall well greet together: +His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; +His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, +Not moved by Antony. + +POMPEY +I know not, Menas, +How lesser enmities may give way to greater. +Were't not that we stand up against them all, +'Twere pregnant they should square between +themselves; +For they have entertained cause enough +To draw their swords: but how the fear of us +May cement their divisions and bind up +The petty difference, we yet not know. +Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands +Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. +Come, Menas. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. The house of LEPIDUS. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS +LEPIDUS +Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, +And shall become you well, to entreat your captain +To soft and gentle speech. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall entreat him +To answer like himself: if Caesar move him, +Let Antony look over Caesar's head +And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, +Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, +I would not shave't to-day. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis not a time +For private stomaching. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Every time +Serves for the matter that is then born in't. + +LEPIDUS +But small to greater matters must give way. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not if the small come first. + +LEPIDUS +Your speech is passion: +But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes +The noble Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And yonder, Caesar. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA + +MARK ANTONY +If we compose well here, to Parthia: +Hark, Ventidius. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not know, +Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. + +LEPIDUS +Noble friends, +That which combined us was most great, and let not +A leaner action rend us. What's amiss, +May it be gently heard: when we debate +Our trivial difference loud, we do commit +Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners, +The rather, for I earnestly beseech, +Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, +Nor curstness grow to the matter. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis spoken well. +Were we before our armies, and to fight. +I should do thus. + +Flourish + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome to Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Thank you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Sit. + +MARK ANTONY +Sit, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, then. + +MARK ANTONY +I learn, you take things ill which are not so, +Or being, concern you not. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I must be laugh'd at, +If, or for nothing or a little, I +Should say myself offended, and with you +Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should +Once name you derogately, when to sound your name +It not concern'd me. + +MARK ANTONY +My being in Egypt, Caesar, +What was't to you? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No more than my residing here at Rome +Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there +Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt +Might be my question. + +MARK ANTONY +How intend you, practised? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may be pleased to catch at mine intent +By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother +Made wars upon me; and their contestation +Was theme for you, you were the word of war. + +MARK ANTONY +You do mistake your business; my brother never +Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it; +And have my learning from some true reports, +That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather +Discredit my authority with yours; +And make the wars alike against my stomach, +Having alike your cause? Of this my letters +Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, +As matter whole you have not to make it with, +It must not be with this. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You praise yourself +By laying defects of judgment to me; but +You patch'd up your excuses. + +MARK ANTONY +Not so, not so; +I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, +Very necessity of this thought, that I, +Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, +Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars +Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, +I would you had her spirit in such another: +The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle +You may pace easy, but not such a wife. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would we had all such wives, that the men might go +to wars with the women! + +MARK ANTONY +So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar +Made out of her impatience, which not wanted +Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant +Did you too much disquiet: for that you must +But say, I could not help it. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I wrote to you +When rioting in Alexandria; you +Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts +Did gibe my missive out of audience. + +MARK ANTONY +Sir, +He fell upon me ere admitted: then +Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want +Of what I was i' the morning: but next day +I told him of myself; which was as much +As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow +Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, +Out of our question wipe him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You have broken +The article of your oath; which you shall never +Have tongue to charge me with. + +LEPIDUS +Soft, Caesar! + +MARK ANTONY +No, +Lepidus, let him speak: +The honour is sacred which he talks on now, +Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar; +The article of my oath. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +To lend me arms and aid when I required them; +The which you both denied. + +MARK ANTONY +Neglected, rather; +And then when poison'd hours had bound me up +From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may, +I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty +Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power +Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia, +To have me out of Egypt, made wars here; +For which myself, the ignorant motive, do +So far ask pardon as befits mine honour +To stoop in such a case. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis noble spoken. + +MECAENAS +If it might please you, to enforce no further +The griefs between ye: to forget them quite +Were to remember that the present need +Speaks to atone you. + +LEPIDUS +Worthily spoken, Mecaenas. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Or, if you borrow one another's love for the +instant, you may, when you hear no more words of +Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to +wrangle in when you have nothing else to do. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou art a soldier only: speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. + +MARK ANTONY +You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Go to, then; your considerate stone. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not much dislike the matter, but +The manner of his speech; for't cannot be +We shall remain in friendship, our conditions +So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew +What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge +O' the world I would pursue it. + +AGRIPPA +Give me leave, Caesar,-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Speak, Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, +Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony +Is now a widower. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Say not so, Agrippa: +If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof +Were well deserved of rashness. + +MARK ANTONY +I am not married, Caesar: let me hear +Agrippa further speak. + +AGRIPPA +To hold you in perpetual amity, +To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts +With an unslipping knot, take Antony +Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims +No worse a husband than the best of men; +Whose virtue and whose general graces speak +That which none else can utter. By this marriage, +All little jealousies, which now seem great, +And all great fears, which now import their dangers, +Would then be nothing: truths would be tales, +Where now half tales be truths: her love to both +Would, each to other and all loves to both, +Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke; +For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, +By duty ruminated. + +MARK ANTONY +Will Caesar speak? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd +With what is spoke already. + +MARK ANTONY +What power is in Agrippa, +If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' +To make this good? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The power of Caesar, and +His power unto Octavia. + +MARK ANTONY +May I never +To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, +Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand: +Further this act of grace: and from this hour +The heart of brothers govern in our loves +And sway our great designs! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There is my hand. +A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother +Did ever love so dearly: let her live +To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never +Fly off our loves again! + +LEPIDUS +Happily, amen! + +MARK ANTONY +I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey; +For he hath laid strange courtesies and great +Of late upon me: I must thank him only, +Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; +At heel of that, defy him. + +LEPIDUS +Time calls upon's: +Of us must Pompey presently be sought, +Or else he seeks out us. + +MARK ANTONY +Where lies he? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +About the mount Misenum. + +MARK ANTONY +What is his strength by land? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Great and increasing: but by sea +He is an absolute master. + +MARK ANTONY +So is the fame. +Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it: +Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we +The business we have talk'd of. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +With most gladness: +And do invite you to my sister's view, +Whither straight I'll lead you. + +MARK ANTONY +Let us, Lepidus, +Not lack your company. + +LEPIDUS +Noble Antony, +Not sickness should detain me. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, and LEPIDUS + +MECAENAS +Welcome from Egypt, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My +honourable friend, Agrippa! + +AGRIPPA +Good Enobarbus! + +MECAENAS +We have cause to be glad that matters are so well +digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and +made the night light with drinking. + +MECAENAS +Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and +but twelve persons there; is this true? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more +monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. + +MECAENAS +She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to +her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up +his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. + +AGRIPPA +There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised +well for her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will tell you. +The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, +Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; +Purple the sails, and so perfumed that +The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, +Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made +The water which they beat to follow faster, +As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, +It beggar'd all description: she did lie +In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue-- +O'er-picturing that Venus where we see +The fancy outwork nature: on each side her +Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, +With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem +To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, +And what they undid did. + +AGRIPPA +O, rare for Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, +So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, +And made their bends adornings: at the helm +A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle +Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, +That yarely frame the office. From the barge +A strange invisible perfume hits the sense +Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast +Her people out upon her; and Antony, +Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone, +Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, +Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, +And made a gap in nature. + +AGRIPPA +Rare Egyptian! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, +Invited her to supper: she replied, +It should be better he became her guest; +Which she entreated: our courteous Antony, +Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak, +Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast, +And for his ordinary pays his heart +For what his eyes eat only. + +AGRIPPA +Royal wench! +She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed: +He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I saw her once +Hop forty paces through the public street; +And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, +That she did make defect perfection, +And, breathless, power breathe forth. + +MECAENAS +Now Antony must leave her utterly. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Never; he will not: +Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale +Her infinite variety: other women cloy +The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry +Where most she satisfies; for vilest things +Become themselves in her: that the holy priests +Bless her when she is riggish. + +MECAENAS +If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle +The heart of Antony, Octavia is +A blessed lottery to him. + +AGRIPPA +Let us go. +Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest +Whilst you abide here. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Humbly, sir, I thank you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between them, and Attendants +MARK ANTONY +The world and my great office will sometimes +Divide me from your bosom. + +OCTAVIA +All which time +Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers +To them for you. + +MARK ANTONY +Good night, sir. My Octavia, +Read not my blemishes in the world's report: +I have not kept my square; but that to come +Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady. +Good night, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good night. + +Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA + +Enter Soothsayer + +MARK ANTONY +Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt? + +Soothsayer +Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither! + +MARK ANTONY +If you can, your reason? + +Soothsayer +I see it in +My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet +Hie you to Egypt again. + +MARK ANTONY +Say to me, +Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? + +Soothsayer +Caesar's. +Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side: +Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is +Noble, courageous high, unmatchable, +Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel +Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore +Make space enough between you. + +MARK ANTONY +Speak this no more. + +Soothsayer +To none but thee; no more, but when to thee. +If thou dost play with him at any game, +Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, +He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens, +When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit +Is all afraid to govern thee near him; +But, he away, 'tis noble. + +MARK ANTONY +Get thee gone: +Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: + +Exit Soothsayer + +He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, +He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him; +And in our sports my better cunning faints +Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds; +His cocks do win the battle still of mine, +When it is all to nought; and his quails ever +Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt: +And though I make this marriage for my peace, +I' the east my pleasure lies. + +Enter VENTIDIUS + +O, come, Ventidius, +You must to Parthia: your commission's ready; +Follow me, and receive't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A street. + +Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA +LEPIDUS +Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten +Your generals after. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, Mark Antony +Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. + +LEPIDUS +Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, +Which will become you both, farewell. + +MECAENAS +We shall, +As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount +Before you, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your way is shorter; +My purposes do draw me much about: +You'll win two days upon me. + +MECAENAS AGRIPPA +Sir, good success! + +LEPIDUS +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Give me some music; music, moody food +Of us that trade in love. + +Attendants +The music, ho! + +Enter MARDIAN + +CLEOPATRA +Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. + +CHARMIAN +My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. + +CLEOPATRA +As well a woman with an eunuch play'd +As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? + +MARDIAN +As well as I can, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +And when good will is show'd, though't come +too short, +The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: +Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, +My music playing far off, I will betray +Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce +Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, +I'll think them every one an Antony, +And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.' + +CHARMIAN +'Twas merry when +You wager'd on your angling; when your diver +Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he +With fervency drew up. + +CLEOPATRA +That time,--O times!-- +I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night +I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn, +Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; +Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst +I wore his sword Philippan. + +Enter a Messenger + +O, from Italy +Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, +That long time have been barren. + +Messenger +Madam, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, +Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, +If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here +My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings +Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. + +Messenger +First, madam, he is well. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, there's more gold. +But, sirrah, mark, we use +To say the dead are well: bring it to that, +The gold I give thee will I melt and pour +Down thy ill-uttering throat. + +Messenger +Good madam, hear me. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, go to, I will; +But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony +Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour +To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, +Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, +Not like a formal man. + +Messenger +Will't please you hear me? + +CLEOPATRA +I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: +Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, +Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, +I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail +Rich pearls upon thee. + +Messenger +Madam, he's well. + +CLEOPATRA +Well said. + +Messenger +And friends with Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou'rt an honest man. + +Messenger +Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + +CLEOPATRA +Make thee a fortune from me. + +Messenger +But yet, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay +The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'! +'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth +Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, +Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, +The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: +In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. + +Messenger +Free, madam! no; I made no such report: +He's bound unto Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +For what good turn? + +Messenger +For the best turn i' the bed. + +CLEOPATRA +I am pale, Charmian. + +Messenger +Madam, he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +The most infectious pestilence upon thee! + +Strikes him down + +Messenger +Good madam, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +What say you? Hence, + +Strikes him again + +Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes +Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: + +She hales him up and down + +Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, +Smarting in lingering pickle. + +Messenger +Gracious madam, +I that do bring the news made not the match. + +CLEOPATRA +Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, +And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst +Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; +And I will boot thee with what gift beside +Thy modesty can beg. + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Rogue, thou hast lived too long. + +Draws a knife + +Messenger +Nay, then I'll run. +What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. + +Exit + +CHARMIAN +Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: +The man is innocent. + +CLEOPATRA +Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. +Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures +Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: +Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. + +CHARMIAN +He is afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +I will not hurt him. + +Exit CHARMIAN + +These hands do lack nobility, that they strike +A meaner than myself; since I myself +Have given myself the cause. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger + +Come hither, sir. +Though it be honest, it is never good +To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. +An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell +Themselves when they be felt. + +Messenger +I have done my duty. + +CLEOPATRA +Is he married? +I cannot hate thee worser than I do, +If thou again say 'Yes.' + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? + +Messenger +Should I lie, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +O, I would thou didst, +So half my Egypt were submerged and made +A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: +Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me +Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? + +Messenger +I crave your highness' pardon. + +CLEOPATRA +He is married? + +Messenger +Take no offence that I would not offend you: +To punish me for what you make me do. +Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, +That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: +The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome +Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, +And be undone by 'em! + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +Good your highness, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. + +CHARMIAN +Many times, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I am paid for't now. +Lead me from hence: +I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. +Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him +Report the feature of Octavia, her years, +Her inclination, let him not leave out +The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. + +Exit ALEXAS + +Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, +Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, +The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas + +To MARDIAN + +Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, +But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near Misenum. + +Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS, with Soldiers marching +POMPEY +Your hostages I have, so have you mine; +And we shall talk before we fight. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most meet +That first we come to words; and therefore have we +Our written purposes before us sent; +Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know +If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword, +And carry back to Sicily much tall youth +That else must perish here. + +POMPEY +To you all three, +The senators alone of this great world, +Chief factors for the gods, I do not know +Wherefore my father should revengers want, +Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar, +Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, +There saw you labouring for him. What was't +That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what +Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus, +With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom, +To drench the Capitol; but that they would +Have one man but a man? And that is it +Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen +The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant +To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome +Cast on my noble father. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take your time. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails; +We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st +How much we do o'er-count thee. + +POMPEY +At land, indeed, +Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house: +But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, +Remain in't as thou mayst. + +LEPIDUS +Be pleased to tell us-- +For this is from the present--how you take +The offers we have sent you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There's the point. + +MARK ANTONY +Which do not be entreated to, but weigh +What it is worth embraced. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +And what may follow, +To try a larger fortune. + +POMPEY +You have made me offer +Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must +Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send +Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon +To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back +Our targes undinted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +That's our offer. + +POMPEY +Know, then, +I came before you here a man prepared +To take this offer: but Mark Antony +Put me to some impatience: though I lose +The praise of it by telling, you must know, +When Caesar and your brother were at blows, +Your mother came to Sicily and did find +Her welcome friendly. + +MARK ANTONY +I have heard it, Pompey; +And am well studied for a liberal thanks +Which I do owe you. + +POMPEY +Let me have your hand: +I did not think, sir, to have met you here. + +MARK ANTONY +The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you, +That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither; +For I have gain'd by 't. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Since I saw you last, +There is a change upon you. + +POMPEY +Well, I know not +What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face; +But in my bosom shall she never come, +To make my heart her vassal. + +LEPIDUS +Well met here. + +POMPEY +I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed: +I crave our composition may be written, +And seal'd between us. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That's the next to do. + +POMPEY +We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's +Draw lots who shall begin. + +MARK ANTONY +That will I, Pompey. + +POMPEY +No, Antony, take the lot: but, first +Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery +Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar +Grew fat with feasting there. + +MARK ANTONY +You have heard much. + +POMPEY +I have fair meanings, sir. + +MARK ANTONY +And fair words to them. + +POMPEY +Then so much have I heard: +And I have heard, Apollodorus carried-- + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No more of that: he did so. + +POMPEY +What, I pray you? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. + +POMPEY +I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well; +And well am like to do; for, I perceive, +Four feasts are toward. + +POMPEY +Let me shake thy hand; +I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight, +When I have envied thy behavior. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir, +I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye, +When you have well deserved ten times as much +As I have said you did. + +POMPEY +Enjoy thy plainness, +It nothing ill becomes thee. +Aboard my galley I invite you all: +Will you lead, lords? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +Show us the way, sir. + +POMPEY +Come. + +Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS + +MENAS +[Aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have +made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +At sea, I think. + +MENAS +We have, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +You have done well by water. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will praise any man that will praise me; though it +cannot be denied what I have done by land. + +MENAS +Nor what I have done by water. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Yes, something you can deny for your own +safety: you have been a great thief by sea. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There I deny my land service. But give me your +hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they +might take two thieves kissing. + +MENAS +All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But there is never a fair woman has a true face. + +MENAS +No slander; they steal hearts. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +We came hither to fight with you. + +MENAS +For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. +Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again. + +MENAS +You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony +here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar's sister is called Octavia. + +MENAS +True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. + +MENAS +Pray ye, sir? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Tis true. + +MENAS +Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would +not prophesy so. + +MENAS +I think the policy of that purpose made more in the +marriage than the love of the parties. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I think so too. But you shall find, the band that +seems to tie their friendship together will be the +very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a +holy, cold, and still conversation. + +MENAS +Who would not have his wife so? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. +He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the +sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as +I said before, that which is the strength of their +amity shall prove the immediate author of their +variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: +he married but his occasion here. + +MENAS +And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? +I have a health for you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt. + +MENAS +Come, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum. + +Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet +First Servant +Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are +ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world +will blow them down. + +Second Servant +Lepidus is high-coloured. + +First Servant +They have made him drink alms-drink. + +Second Servant +As they pinch one another by the disposition, he +cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his +entreaty, and himself to the drink. + +First Servant +But it raises the greater war between him and +his discretion. + +Second Servant +Why, this is to have a name in great men's +fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do +me no service as a partisan I could not heave. + +First Servant +To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen +to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, +which pitifully disaster the cheeks. + +A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains + +MARK ANTONY +[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take +the flow o' the Nile +By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, +By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth +Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells, +The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman +Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, +And shortly comes to harvest. + +LEPIDUS +You've strange serpents there. + +MARK ANTONY +Ay, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the +operation of your sun: so is your crocodile. + +MARK ANTONY +They are so. + +POMPEY +Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then. + +LEPIDUS +Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' +pyramises are very goodly things; without +contradiction, I have heard that. + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Say in mine ear: +what is't? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech +thee, captain, +And hear me speak a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Forbear me till anon. +This wine for Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +What manner o' thing is your crocodile? + +MARK ANTONY +It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad +as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is, +and moves with its own organs: it lives by that +which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of +it, it transmigrates. + +LEPIDUS +What colour is it of? + +MARK ANTONY +Of it own colour too. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis a strange serpent. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Will this description satisfy him? + +MARK ANTONY +With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a +very epicure. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of +that? away! +Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] If for the sake of merit thou +wilt hear me, +Rise from thy stool. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] I think thou'rt mad. +The matter? + +Rises, and walks aside + +MENAS +I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. + +POMPEY +Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say? +Be jolly, lords. + +MARK ANTONY +These quick-sands, Lepidus, +Keep off them, for you sink. + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of all the world? + +POMPEY +What say'st thou? + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. + +POMPEY +How should that be? + +MENAS +But entertain it, +And, though thou think me poor, I am the man +Will give thee all the world. + +POMPEY +Hast thou drunk well? + +MENAS +Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. +Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove: +Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, +Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. + +POMPEY +Show me which way. + +MENAS +These three world-sharers, these competitors, +Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable; +And, when we are put off, fall to their throats: +All there is thine. + +POMPEY +Ah, this thou shouldst have done, +And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany; +In thee't had been good service. Thou must know, +'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; +Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue +Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown, +I should have found it afterwards well done; +But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. + +MENAS +[Aside] For this, +I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. +Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, +Shall never find it more. + +POMPEY +This health to Lepidus! + +MARK ANTONY +Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Here's to thee, Menas! + +MENAS +Enobarbus, welcome! + +POMPEY +Fill till the cup be hid. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There's a strong fellow, Menas. + +Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS + +MENAS +Why? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st +not? + +MENAS +The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all, +That it might go on wheels! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Drink thou; increase the reels. + +MENAS +Come. + +POMPEY +This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. + +MARK ANTONY +It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho? +Here is to Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I could well forbear't. +It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, +And it grows fouler. + +MARK ANTONY +Be a child o' the time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Possess it, I'll make answer: +But I had rather fast from all four days +Than drink so much in one. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ha, my brave emperor! + +To MARK ANTONY + +Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals, +And celebrate our drink? + +POMPEY +Let's ha't, good soldier. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, let's all take hands, +Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense +In soft and delicate Lethe. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +All take hands. +Make battery to our ears with the loud music: +The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing; +The holding every man shall bear as loud +As his strong sides can volley. + +Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand + +THE SONG. +Come, thou monarch of the vine, +Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! +In thy fats our cares be drown'd, +With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: +Cup us, till the world go round, +Cup us, till the world go round! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, +Let me request you off: our graver business +Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; +You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb +Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue +Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost +Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. +Good Antony, your hand. + +POMPEY +I'll try you on the shore. + +MARK ANTONY +And shall, sir; give's your hand. + +POMPEY +O Antony, +You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends. +Come, down into the boat. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Take heed you fall not. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS + +Menas, I'll not on shore. + +MENAS +No, to my cabin. +These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what! +Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell +To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out! + +Sound a flourish, with drums + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ho! says a' There's my cap. + +MENAS +Ho! Noble captain, come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A plain in Syria. + +Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of PACORUS borne before him +VENTIDIUS +Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now +Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death +Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body +Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, +Pays this for Marcus Crassus. + +SILIUS +Noble Ventidius, +Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, +The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media, +Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither +The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony +Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and +Put garlands on thy head. + +VENTIDIUS +O Silius, Silius, +I have done enough; a lower place, note well, +May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius; +Better to leave undone, than by our deed +Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away. +Caesar and Antony have ever won +More in their officer than person: Sossius, +One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, +For quick accumulation of renown, +Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. +Who does i' the wars more than his captain can +Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition, +The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, +Than gain which darkens him. +I could do more to do Antonius good, +But 'twould offend him; and in his offence +Should my performance perish. + +SILIUS +Thou hast, Ventidius, +that +Without the which a soldier, and his sword, +Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony! + +VENTIDIUS +I'll humbly signify what in his name, +That magical word of war, we have effected; +How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, +The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia +We have jaded out o' the field. + +SILIUS +Where is he now? + +VENTIDIUS +He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste +The weight we must convey with's will permit, +We shall appear before him. On there; pass along! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS at another +AGRIPPA +What, are the brothers parted? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone; +The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps +To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus, +Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled +With the green sickness. + +AGRIPPA +'Tis a noble Lepidus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar! + +AGRIPPA +Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. + +AGRIPPA +What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil! + +AGRIPPA +O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further. + +AGRIPPA +Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony: +Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, +poets, cannot +Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho! +His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, +Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. + +AGRIPPA +Both he loves. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They are his shards, and he their beetle. + +Trumpets within + +So; +This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +No further, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You take from me a great part of myself; +Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife +As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band +Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, +Let not the piece of virtue, which is set +Betwixt us as the cement of our love, +To keep it builded, be the ram to batter +The fortress of it; for better might we +Have loved without this mean, if on both parts +This be not cherish'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Make me not offended +In your distrust. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have said. + +MARK ANTONY +You shall not find, +Though you be therein curious, the least cause +For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you, +And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! +We will here part. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: +The elements be kind to thee, and make +Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. + +OCTAVIA +My noble brother! + +MARK ANTONY +The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring, +And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. + +OCTAVIA +Sir, look well to my husband's house; and-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What, Octavia? + +OCTAVIA +I'll tell you in your ear. + +MARK ANTONY +Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can +Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's +down-feather, +That stands upon the swell at full of tide, +And neither way inclines. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] Will Caesar weep? + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] He has a cloud in 's face. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] He were the worse for that, +were he a horse; +So is he, being a man. + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] Why, Enobarbus, +When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, +He cried almost to roaring; and he wept +When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] That year, indeed, he was +troubled with a rheum; +What willingly he did confound he wail'd, +Believe't, till I wept too. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, sweet Octavia, +You shall hear from me still; the time shall not +Out-go my thinking on you. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, sir, come; +I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: +Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, +And give you to the gods. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Adieu; be happy! + +LEPIDUS +Let all the number of the stars give light +To thy fair way! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, fa rewell! + +Kisses OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +Farewell! + +Trumpets sound. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is the fellow? + +ALEXAS +Half afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +Go to, go to. + +Enter the Messenger as before + +Come hither, sir. + +ALEXAS +Good majesty, +Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you +But when you are well pleased. + +CLEOPATRA +That Herod's head +I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone +Through whom I might command it? Come thou near. + +Messenger +Most gracious majesty,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Didst thou behold Octavia? + +Messenger +Ay, dread queen. + +CLEOPATRA +Where? + +Messenger +Madam, in Rome; +I look'd her in the face, and saw her led +Between her brother and Mark Antony. + +CLEOPATRA +Is she as tall as me? + +Messenger +She is not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? + +Messenger +Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. + +CLEOPATRA +That's not so good: he cannot like her long. + +CHARMIAN +Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible. + +CLEOPATRA +I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish! +What majesty is in her gait? Remember, +If e'er thou look'dst on majesty. + +Messenger +She creeps: +Her motion and her station are as one; +She shows a body rather than a life, +A statue than a breather. + +CLEOPATRA +Is this certain? + +Messenger +Or I have no observance. + +CHARMIAN +Three in Egypt +Cannot make better note. + +CLEOPATRA +He's very knowing; +I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet: +The fellow has good judgment. + +CHARMIAN +Excellent. + +CLEOPATRA +Guess at her years, I prithee. + +Messenger +Madam, +She was a widow,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Widow! Charmian, hark. + +Messenger +And I do think she's thirty. + +CLEOPATRA +Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? + +Messenger +Round even to faultiness. + +CLEOPATRA +For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. +Her hair, what colour? + +Messenger +Brown, madam: and her forehead +As low as she would wish it. + +CLEOPATRA +There's gold for thee. +Thou must not take my former sharpness ill: +I will employ thee back again; I find thee +Most fit for business: go make thee ready; +Our letters are prepared. + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +A proper man. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed, he is so: I repent me much +That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, +This creature's no such thing. + +CHARMIAN +Nothing, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. + +CHARMIAN +Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, +And serving you so long! + +CLEOPATRA +I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian: +But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me +Where I will write. All may be well enough. + +CHARMIAN +I warrant you, madam. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA +MARK ANTONY +Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,-- +That were excusable, that, and thousands more +Of semblable import,--but he hath waged +New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it +To public ear: +Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not +But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly +He vented them; most narrow measure lent me: +When the best hint was given him, he not took't, +Or did it from his teeth. + +OCTAVIA +O my good lord, +Believe not all; or, if you must believe, +Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, +If this division chance, ne'er stood between, +Praying for both parts: +The good gods me presently, +When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!' +Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, +'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother, +Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway +'Twixt these extremes at all. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle Octavia, +Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks +Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour, +I lose myself: better I were not yours +Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, +Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady, +I'll raise the preparation of a war +Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste; +So your desires are yours. + +OCTAVIA +Thanks to my lord. +The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak, +Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be +As if the world should cleave, and that slain men +Should solder up the rift. + +MARK ANTONY +When it appears to you where this begins, +Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults +Can never be so equal, that your love +Can equally move with them. Provide your going; +Choose your own company, and command what cost +Your heart has mind to. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. Another room. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How now, friend Eros! + +EROS +There's strange news come, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What, man? + +EROS +Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This is old: what is the success? + +EROS +Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst +Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let +him partake in the glory of the action: and not +resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly +wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so +the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; +And throw between them all the food thou hast, +They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? + +EROS +He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns +The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!' +And threats the throat of that his officer +That murder'd Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Our great navy's rigg'd. + +EROS +For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; +My lord desires you presently: my news +I might have told hereafter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Twill be naught: +But let it be. Bring me to Antony. + +EROS +Come, sir. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more, +In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't: +I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd, +Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold +Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat +Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, +And all the unlawful issue that their lust +Since then hath made between them. Unto her +He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her +Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, +Absolute queen. + +MECAENAS +This in the public eye? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I' the common show-place, where they exercise. +His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings: +Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia. +He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd +Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she +In the habiliments of the goddess Isis +That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience, +As 'tis reported, so. + +MECAENAS +Let Rome be thus Inform'd. + +AGRIPPA +Who, queasy with his insolence +Already, will their good thoughts call from him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The people know it; and have now received +His accusations. + +AGRIPPA +Who does he accuse? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Caesar: and that, having in Sicily +Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him +His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me +Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets +That Lepidus of the triumvirate +Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain +All his revenue. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, this should be answer'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. +I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel; +That he his high authority abused, +And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd, +I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia, +And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I +Demand the like. + +MECAENAS +He'll never yield to that. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nor must not then be yielded to in this. + +Enter OCTAVIA with her train + +OCTAVIA +Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That ever I should call thee castaway! + +OCTAVIA +You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not +Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony +Should have an army for an usher, and +The neighs of horse to tell of her approach +Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way +Should have borne men; and expectation fainted, +Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust +Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, +Raised by your populous troops: but you are come +A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented +The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, +Is often left unloved; we should have met you +By sea and land; supplying every stage +With an augmented greeting. + +OCTAVIA +Good my lord, +To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did +On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, +Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted +My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd +His pardon for return. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which soon he granted, +Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him. + +OCTAVIA +Do not say so, my lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have eyes upon him, +And his affairs come to me on the wind. +Where is he now? + +OCTAVIA +My lord, in Athens. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra +Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire +Up to a whore; who now are levying +The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled +Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus, +Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king +Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; +King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont; +Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king +Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, +The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, +With a more larger list of sceptres. + +OCTAVIA +Ay me, most wretched, +That have my heart parted betwixt two friends +That do afflict each other! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome hither: +Your letters did withhold our breaking forth; +Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led, +And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart; +Be you not troubled with the time, which drives +O'er your content these strong necessities; +But let determined things to destiny +Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome; +Nothing more dear to me. You are abused +Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods, +To do you justice, make them ministers +Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort; +And ever welcome to us. + +AGRIPPA +Welcome, lady. + +MECAENAS +Welcome, dear madam. +Each heart in Rome does love and pity you: +Only the adulterous Antony, most large +In his abominations, turns you off; +And gives his potent regiment to a trull, +That noises it against us. + +OCTAVIA +Is it so, sir? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you, +Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +CLEOPATRA +I will be even with thee, doubt it not. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But why, why, why? + +CLEOPATRA +Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, +And say'st it is not fit. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well, is it, is it? + +CLEOPATRA +If not denounced against us, why should not we +Be there in person? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Well, I could reply: +If we should serve with horse and mares together, +The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear +A soldier and his horse. + +CLEOPATRA +What is't you say? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; +Take from his heart, take from his brain, +from's time, +What should not then be spared. He is already +Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome +That Photinus an eunuch and your maids +Manage this war. + +CLEOPATRA +Sink Rome, and their tongues rot +That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war, +And, as the president of my kingdom, will +Appear there for a man. Speak not against it: +I will not stay behind. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Nay, I have done. +Here comes the emperor. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS + +MARK ANTONY +Is it not strange, Canidius, +That from Tarentum and Brundusium +He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea, +And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet? + +CLEOPATRA +Celerity is never more admired +Than by the negligent. + +MARK ANTONY +A good rebuke, +Which might have well becomed the best of men, +To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we +Will fight with him by sea. + +CLEOPATRA +By sea! what else? + +CANIDIUS +Why will my lord do so? + +MARK ANTONY +For that he dares us to't. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +So hath my lord dared him to single fight. + +CANIDIUS +Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia. +Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers, +Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off; +And so should you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your ships are not well mann'd; +Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people +Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet +Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought: +Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace +Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, +Being prepared for land. + +MARK ANTONY +By sea, by sea. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Most worthy sir, you therein throw away +The absolute soldiership you have by land; +Distract your army, which doth most consist +Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted +Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego +The way which promises assurance; and +Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, +From firm security. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll fight at sea. + +CLEOPATRA +I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. + +MARK ANTONY +Our overplus of shipping will we burn; +And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium +Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail, +We then can do't at land. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy business? + +Messenger +The news is true, my lord; he is descried; +Caesar has taken Toryne. + +MARK ANTONY +Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible; +Strange that power should be. Canidius, +Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, +And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship: +Away, my Thetis! + +Enter a Soldier + +How now, worthy soldier? + +Soldier +O noble emperor, do not fight by sea; +Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt +This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians +And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we +Have used to conquer, standing on the earth, +And fighting foot to foot. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well: away! + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +Soldier +By Hercules, I think I am i' the right. + +CANIDIUS +Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows +Not in the power on't: so our leader's led, +And we are women's men. + +Soldier +You keep by land +The legions and the horse whole, do you not? + +CANIDIUS +Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, +Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea: +But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's +Carries beyond belief. + +Soldier +While he was yet in Rome, +His power went out in such distractions as +Beguiled all spies. + +CANIDIUS +Who's his lieutenant, hear you? + +Soldier +They say, one Taurus. + +CANIDIUS +Well I know the man. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The emperor calls Canidius. + +CANIDIUS +With news the time's with labour, and throes forth, +Each minute, some. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Taurus! + +TAURUS +My lord? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle, +Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed +The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies +Upon this jump. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. Another part of the plain. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +MARK ANTONY +Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill, +In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place +We may the number of the ships behold, +And so proceed accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. Another part of the plain. + +CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight + +Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer: +The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, +With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder: +To see't mine eyes are blasted. + +Enter SCARUS + +SCARUS +Gods and goddesses, +All the whole synod of them! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's thy passion! + +SCARUS +The greater cantle of the world is lost +With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away +Kingdoms and provinces. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How appears the fight? + +SCARUS +On our side like the token'd pestilence, +Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,-- +Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight, +When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, +Both as the same, or rather ours the elder, +The breese upon her, like a cow in June, +Hoists sails and flies. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That I beheld: +Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not +Endure a further view. + +SCARUS +She once being loof'd, +The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, +Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, +Leaving the fight in height, flies after her: +I never saw an action of such shame; +Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before +Did violate so itself. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, alack! + +Enter CANIDIUS + +CANIDIUS +Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, +And sinks most lamentably. Had our general +Been what he knew himself, it had gone well: +O, he has given example for our flight, +Most grossly, by his own! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, are you thereabouts? +Why, then, good night indeed. + +CANIDIUS +Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. + +SCARUS +'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend +What further comes. + +CANIDIUS +To Caesar will I render +My legions and my horse: six kings already +Show me the way of yielding. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll yet follow +The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason +Sits in the wind against me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants +MARK ANTONY +Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't; +It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither: +I am so lated in the world, that I +Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship +Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, +And make your peace with Caesar. + +All +Fly! not we. + +MARK ANTONY +I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards +To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; +I have myself resolved upon a course +Which has no need of you; be gone: +My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O, +I follow'd that I blush to look upon: +My very hairs do mutiny; for the white +Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them +For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall +Have letters from me to some friends that will +Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, +Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint +Which my despair proclaims; let that be left +Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway: +I will possess you of that ship and treasure. +Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now: +Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, +Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by. + +Sits down + +Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS following + +EROS +Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. + +IRAS +Do, most dear queen. + +CHARMIAN +Do! why: what else? + +CLEOPATRA +Let me sit down. O Juno! + +MARK ANTONY +No, no, no, no, no. + +EROS +See you here, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +O fie, fie, fie! + +CHARMIAN +Madam! + +IRAS +Madam, O good empress! + +EROS +Sir, sir,-- + +MARK ANTONY +Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept +His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck +The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I +That the mad Brutus ended: he alone +Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had +In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter. + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, stand by. + +EROS +The queen, my lord, the queen. + +IRAS +Go to him, madam, speak to him: +He is unqualitied with very shame. + +CLEOPATRA +Well then, sustain him: O! + +EROS +Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches: +Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but +Your comfort makes the rescue. + +MARK ANTONY +I have offended reputation, +A most unnoble swerving. + +EROS +Sir, the queen. + +MARK ANTONY +O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, +How I convey my shame out of thine eyes +By looking back what I have left behind +'Stroy'd in dishonour. + +CLEOPATRA +O my lord, my lord, +Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought +You would have follow'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Egypt, thou knew'st too well +My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, +And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit +Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that +Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods +Command me. + +CLEOPATRA +O, my pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Now I must +To the young man send humble treaties, dodge +And palter in the shifts of lowness; who +With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, +Making and marring fortunes. You did know +How much you were my conqueror; and that +My sword, made weak by my affection, would +Obey it on all cause. + +CLEOPATRA +Pardon, pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates +All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; +Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; +Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. +Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows +We scorn her most when most she offers blows. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him appear that's come from Antony. +Know you him? + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster: +An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither +He sends so poor a pinion off his wing, +Which had superfluous kings for messengers +Not many moons gone by. + +Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Approach, and speak. + +EUPHRONIUS +Such as I am, I come from Antony: +I was of late as petty to his ends +As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf +To his grand sea. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Be't so: declare thine office. + +EUPHRONIUS +Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and +Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted, +He lessens his requests; and to thee sues +To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, +A private man in Athens: this for him. +Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness; +Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves +The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, +Now hazarded to thy grace. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +For Antony, +I have no ears to his request. The queen +Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she +From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, +Or take his life there: this if she perform, +She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. + +EUPHRONIUS +Fortune pursue thee! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bring him through the bands. + +Exit EUPHRONIUS + +To THYREUS + +From Antony win Cleopatra: promise, +And in our name, what she requires; add more, +From thine invention, offers: women are not +In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure +The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus; +Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we +Will answer as a law. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I go. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, +And what thou think'st his very action speaks +In every power that moves. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +What shall we do, Enobarbus? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Think, and die. + +CLEOPATRA +Is Antony or we in fault for this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Antony only, that would make his will +Lord of his reason. What though you fled +From that great face of war, whose several ranges +Frighted each other? why should he follow? +The itch of his affection should not then +Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point, +When half to half the world opposed, he being +The meered question: 'twas a shame no less +Than was his loss, to course your flying flags, +And leave his navy gazing. + +CLEOPATRA +Prithee, peace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador + +MARK ANTONY +Is that his answer? + +EUPHRONIUS +Ay, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +The queen shall then have courtesy, so she +Will yield us up. + +EUPHRONIUS +He says so. + +MARK ANTONY +Let her know't. +To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, +And he will fill thy wishes to the brim +With principalities. + +CLEOPATRA +That head, my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +To him again: tell him he wears the rose +Of youth upon him; from which the world should note +Something particular: his coin, ships, legions, +May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail +Under the service of a child as soon +As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore +To lay his gay comparisons apart, +And answer me declined, sword against sword, +Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will +Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show, +Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are +A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward +Do draw the inward quality after them, +To suffer all alike. That he should dream, +Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will +Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued +His judgment too. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +A messenger from CAESAR. + +CLEOPATRA +What, no more ceremony? See, my women! +Against the blown rose may they stop their nose +That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. + +Exit Attendant + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square. +The loyalty well held to fools does make +Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure +To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord +Does conquer him that did his master conquer +And earns a place i' the story. + +Enter THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Caesar's will? + +THYREUS +Hear it apart. + +CLEOPATRA +None but friends: say boldly. + +THYREUS +So, haply, are they friends to Antony. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has; +Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master +Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, +Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's. + +THYREUS +So. +Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats, +Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, +Further than he is Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Go on: right royal. + +THYREUS +He knows that you embrace not Antony +As you did love, but as you fear'd him. + +CLEOPATRA +O! + +THYREUS +The scars upon your honour, therefore, he +Does pity, as constrained blemishes, +Not as deserved. + +CLEOPATRA +He is a god, and knows +What is most right: mine honour was not yielded, +But conquer'd merely. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] To be sure of that, +I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky, +That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for +Thy dearest quit thee. + +Exit + +THYREUS +Shall I say to Caesar +What you require of him? for he partly begs +To be desired to give. It much would please him, +That of his fortunes you should make a staff +To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits, +To hear from me you had left Antony, +And put yourself under his shrowd, +The universal landlord. + +CLEOPATRA +What's your name? + +THYREUS +My name is Thyreus. + +CLEOPATRA +Most kind messenger, +Say to great Caesar this: in deputation +I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt +To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel: +Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear +The doom of Egypt. + +THYREUS +'Tis your noblest course. +Wisdom and fortune combating together, +If that the former dare but what it can, +No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay +My duty on your hand. + +CLEOPATRA +Your Caesar's father oft, +When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, +Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place, +As it rain'd kisses. + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +MARK ANTONY +Favours, by Jove that thunders! +What art thou, fellow? + +THYREUS +One that but performs +The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest +To have command obey'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] You will be whipp'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods +and devils! +Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!' +Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, +And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am +Antony yet. + +Enter Attendants + +Take hence this Jack, and whip him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp +Than with an old one dying. + +MARK ANTONY +Moon and stars! +Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries +That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them +So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name, +Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, +Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face, +And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence. + +THYREUS +Mark Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Tug him away: being whipp'd, +Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall +Bear us an errand to him. + +Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS + +You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha! +Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, +Forborne the getting of a lawful race, +And by a gem of women, to be abused +By one that looks on feeders? + +CLEOPATRA +Good my lord,-- + +MARK ANTONY +You have been a boggler ever: +But when we in our viciousness grow hard-- +O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes; +In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us +Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut +To our confusion. + +CLEOPATRA +O, is't come to this? + +MARK ANTONY +I found you as a morsel cold upon +Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment +Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, +Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have +Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure, +Though you can guess what temperance should be, +You know not what it is. + +CLEOPATRA +Wherefore is this? + +MARK ANTONY +To let a fellow that will take rewards +And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with +My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal +And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were +Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar +The horned herd! for I have savage cause; +And to proclaim it civilly, were like +A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank +For being yare about him. + +Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS + +Is he whipp'd? + +First Attendant +Soundly, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? + +First Attendant +He did ask favour. + +MARK ANTONY +If that thy father live, let him repent +Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry +To follow Caesar in his triumph, since +Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth +The white hand of a lady fever thee, +Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar, +Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say +He makes me angry with him; for he seems +Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, +Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry; +And at this time most easy 'tis to do't, +When my good stars, that were my former guides, +Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires +Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike +My speech and what is done, tell him he has +Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom +He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, +As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou: +Hence with thy stripes, begone! + +Exit THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Have you done yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Alack, our terrene moon +Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone +The fall of Antony! + +CLEOPATRA +I must stay his time. + +MARK ANTONY +To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes +With one that ties his points? + +CLEOPATRA +Not know me yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Cold-hearted toward me? + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, dear, if I be so, +From my cold heart let heaven engender hail, +And poison it in the source; and the first stone +Drop in my neck: as it determines, so +Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite! +Till by degrees the memory of my womb, +Together with my brave Egyptians all, +By the discandying of this pelleted storm, +Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile +Have buried them for prey! + +MARK ANTONY +I am satisfied. +Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where +I will oppose his fate. Our force by land +Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too +Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like. +Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady? +If from the field I shall return once more +To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood; +I and my sword will earn our chronicle: +There's hope in't yet. + +CLEOPATRA +That's my brave lord! + +MARK ANTONY +I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed, +And fight maliciously: for when mine hours +Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives +Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth, +And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, +Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me +All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; +Let's mock the midnight bell. + +CLEOPATRA +It is my birth-day: +I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord +Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. + +MARK ANTONY +We will yet do well. + +CLEOPATRA +Call all his noble captains to my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force +The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; +There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, +I'll make death love me; for I will contend +Even with his pestilent scythe. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious, +Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood +The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, +A diminution in our captain's brain +Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason, +It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek +Some way to leave him. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power +To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger +He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, +Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know +I have many other ways to die; meantime +Laugh at his challenge. + +MECAENAS +Caesar must think, +When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted +Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now +Make boot of his distraction: never anger +Made good guard for itself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let our best heads +Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles +We mean to fight: within our files there are, +Of those that served Mark Antony but late, +Enough to fetch him in. See it done: +And feast the army; we have store to do't, +And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others +MARK ANTONY +He will not fight with me, Domitius. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No. + +MARK ANTONY +Why should he not? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, +He is twenty men to one. + +MARK ANTONY +To-morrow, soldier, +By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live, +Or bathe my dying honour in the blood +Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.' + +MARK ANTONY +Well said; come on. +Call forth my household servants: let's to-night +Be bounteous at our meal. + +Enter three or four Servitors + +Give me thy hand, +Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;-- +Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well, +And kings have been your fellows. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What means this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd +tricks which sorrow shoots +Out of the mind. + +MARK ANTONY +And thou art honest too. +I wish I could be made so many men, +And all of you clapp'd up together in +An Antony, that I might do you service +So good as you have done. + +All +The gods forbid! + +MARK ANTONY +Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: +Scant not my cups; and make as much of me +As when mine empire was your fellow too, +And suffer'd my command. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What does he mean? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep. + +MARK ANTONY +Tend me to-night; +May be it is the period of your duty: +Haply you shall not see me more; or if, +A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow +You'll serve another master. I look on you +As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, +I turn you not away; but, like a master +Married to your good service, stay till death: +Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, +And the gods yield you for't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What mean you, sir, +To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; +And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, +Transform us not to women. + +MARK ANTONY +Ho, ho, ho! +Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! +Grace grow where those drops fall! +My hearty friends, +You take me in too dolorous a sense; +For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you +To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, +I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you +Where rather I'll expect victorious life +Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come, +And drown consideration. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the palace. + +Enter two Soldiers to their guard +First Soldier +Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day. + +Second Soldier +It will determine one way: fare you well. +Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? + +First Soldier +Nothing. What news? + +Second Soldier +Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you. + +First Soldier +Well, sir, good night. + +Enter two other Soldiers + +Second Soldier +Soldiers, have careful watch. + +Third Soldier +And you. Good night, good night. + +They place themselves in every corner of the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Here we: and if to-morrow +Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope +Our landmen will stand up. + +Third Soldier +'Tis a brave army, +And full of purpose. + +Music of the hautboys as under the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Peace! what noise? + +First Soldier +List, list! + +Second Soldier +Hark! + +First Soldier +Music i' the air. + +Third Soldier +Under the earth. + +Fourth Soldier +It signs well, does it not? + +Third Soldier +No. + +First Soldier +Peace, I say! +What should this mean? + +Second Soldier +'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, +Now leaves him. + +First Soldier +Walk; let's see if other watchmen +Do hear what we do? + +They advance to another post + +Second Soldier +How now, masters! + +All +[Speaking together] How now! +How now! do you hear this? + +First Soldier +Ay; is't not strange? + +Third Soldier +Do you hear, masters? do you hear? + +First Soldier +Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; +Let's see how it will give off. + +All +Content. 'Tis strange. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A room in the palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and others attending +MARK ANTONY +Eros! mine armour, Eros! + +CLEOPATRA +Sleep a little. + +MARK ANTONY +No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros! + +Enter EROS with armour + +Come good fellow, put mine iron on: +If fortune be not ours to-day, it is +Because we brave her: come. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, I'll help too. +What's this for? + +MARK ANTONY +Ah, let be, let be! thou art +The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this. + +CLEOPATRA +Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well; +We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow? +Go put on thy defences. + +EROS +Briefly, sir. + +CLEOPATRA +Is not this buckled well? + +MARK ANTONY +Rarely, rarely: +He that unbuckles this, till we do please +To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm. +Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire +More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love, +That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st +The royal occupation! thou shouldst see +A workman in't. + +Enter an armed Soldier + +Good morrow to thee; welcome: +Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge: +To business that we love we rise betime, +And go to't with delight. + +Soldier +A thousand, sir, +Early though't be, have on their riveted trim, +And at the port expect you. + +Shout. Trumpets flourish + +Enter Captains and Soldiers + +Captain +The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. + +All +Good morrow, general. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis well blown, lads: +This morning, like the spirit of a youth +That means to be of note, begins betimes. +So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said. +Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me: +This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable + +Kisses her + +And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand +On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee +Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight, +Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers + +CHARMIAN +Please you, retire to your chamber. + +CLEOPATRA +Lead me. +He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might +Determine this great war in single fight! +Then Antony,--but now--Well, on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a Soldier meeting them +Soldier +The gods make this a happy day to Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd +To make me fight at land! + +Soldier +Hadst thou done so, +The kings that have revolted, and the soldier +That has this morning left thee, would have still +Follow'd thy heels. + +MARK ANTONY +Who's gone this morning? + +Soldier +Who! +One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus, +He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp +Say 'I am none of thine.' + +MARK ANTONY +What say'st thou? + +Soldier +Sir, +He is with Caesar. + +EROS +Sir, his chests and treasure +He has not with him. + +MARK ANTONY +Is he gone? + +Soldier +Most certain. + +MARK ANTONY +Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; +Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him-- +I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings; +Say that I wish he never find more cause +To change a master. O, my fortunes have +Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight: +Our will is Antony be took alive; +Make it so known. + +AGRIPPA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The time of universal peace is near: +Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world +Shall bear the olive freely. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Antony +Is come into the field. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go charge Agrippa +Plant those that have revolted in the van, +That Antony may seem to spend his fury +Upon himself. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on +Affairs of Antony; there did persuade +Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, +And leave his master Antony: for this pains +Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest +That fell away have entertainment, but +No honourable trust. I have done ill; +Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, +That I will joy no more. + +Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's + +Soldier +Enobarbus, Antony +Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with +His bounty overplus: the messenger +Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now +Unloading of his mules. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I give it you. + +Soldier +Mock not, Enobarbus. +I tell you true: best you safed the bringer +Out of the host; I must attend mine office, +Or would have done't myself. Your emperor +Continues still a Jove. + +Exit + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I am alone the villain of the earth, +And feel I am so most. O Antony, +Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid +My better service, when my turpitude +Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart: +If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean +Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel. +I fight against thee! No: I will go seek +Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits +My latter part of life. + +Exit + +SCENE VII. Field of battle between the camps. + +Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA and others +AGRIPPA +Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: +Caesar himself has work, and our oppression +Exceeds what we expected. + +Exeunt + +Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded + +SCARUS +O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! +Had we done so at first, we had droven them home +With clouts about their heads. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou bleed'st apace. + +SCARUS +I had a wound here that was like a T, +But now 'tis made an H. + +MARK ANTONY +They do retire. + +SCARUS +We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet +Room for six scotches more. + +Enter EROS + +EROS +They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves +For a fair victory. + +SCARUS +Let us score their backs, +And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: +'Tis sport to maul a runner. + +MARK ANTONY +I will reward thee +Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold +For thy good valour. Come thee on. + +SCARUS +I'll halt after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. Under the walls of Alexandria. + +Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS, with others +MARK ANTONY +We have beat him to his camp: run one before, +And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, +Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood +That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; +For doughty-handed are you, and have fought +Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been +Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors. +Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, +Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears +Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss +The honour'd gashes whole. + +To SCARUS + +Give me thy hand + +Enter CLEOPATRA, attended + +To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, +Make her thanks bless thee. + +To CLEOPATRA + +O thou day o' the world, +Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, +Through proof of harness to my heart, and there +Ride on the pants triumphing! + +CLEOPATRA +Lord of lords! +O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from +The world's great snare uncaught? + +MARK ANTONY +My nightingale, +We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! +though grey +Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we +A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can +Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; +Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: +Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day +As if a god, in hate of mankind, had +Destroy'd in such a shape. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll give thee, friend, +An armour all of gold; it was a king's. + +MARK ANTONY +He has deserved it, were it carbuncled +Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand: +Through Alexandria make a jolly march; +Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: +Had our great palace the capacity +To camp this host, we all would sup together, +And drink carouses to the next day's fate, +Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, +With brazen din blast you the city's ear; +Make mingle with rattling tabourines; +That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, +Applauding our approach. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Sentinels at their post +First Soldier +If we be not relieved within this hour, +We must return to the court of guard: the night +Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle +By the second hour i' the morn. + +Second Soldier +This last day was +A shrewd one to's. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, bear me witness, night,-- + +Third Soldier +What man is this? + +Second Soldier +Stand close, and list him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, +When men revolted shall upon record +Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did +Before thy face repent! + +First Soldier +Enobarbus! + +Third Soldier +Peace! +Hark further. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, +The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, +That life, a very rebel to my will, +May hang no longer on me: throw my heart +Against the flint and hardness of my fault: +Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, +And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, +Nobler than my revolt is infamous, +Forgive me in thine own particular; +But let the world rank me in register +A master-leaver and a fugitive: +O Antony! O Antony! + +Dies + +Second Soldier +Let's speak To him. + +First Soldier +Let's hear him, for the things he speaks +May concern Caesar. + +Third Soldier +Let's do so. But he sleeps. + +First Soldier +Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his +Was never yet for sleep. + +Second Soldier +Go we to him. + +Third Soldier +Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. + +Second Soldier +Hear you, sir? + +First Soldier +The hand of death hath raught him. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! the drums +Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him +To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour +Is fully out. + +Third Soldier +Come on, then; +He may recover yet. + +Exeunt with the body + +SCENE X. Between the two camps. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army +MARK ANTONY +Their preparation is to-day by sea; +We please them not by land. + +SCARUS +For both, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air; +We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot +Upon the hills adjoining to the city +Shall stay with us: order for sea is given; +They have put forth the haven +Where their appointment we may best discover, +And look on their endeavour. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Another part of the same. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +But being charged, we will be still by land, +Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force +Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, +And hold our best advantage. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Another part of the same. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS +MARK ANTONY +Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine +does stand, +I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word +Straight, how 'tis like to go. + +Exit + +SCARUS +Swallows have built +In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers +Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, +And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony +Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts, +His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear, +Of what he has, and has not. + +Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +All is lost; +This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me: +My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder +They cast their caps up and carouse together +Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! +'tis thou +Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart +Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly; +For when I am revenged upon my charm, +I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. + +Exit SCARUS + +O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more: +Fortune and Antony part here; even here +Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts +That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave +Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets +On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd, +That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am: +O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,-- +Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home; +Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,-- +Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, +Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. +What, Eros, Eros! + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! + +CLEOPATRA +Why is my lord enraged against his love? + +MARK ANTONY +Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, +And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, +And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians: +Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot +Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown +For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let +Patient Octavia plough thy visage up +With her prepared nails. + +Exit CLEOPATRA + +'Tis well thou'rt gone, +If it be well to live; but better 'twere +Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death +Might have prevented many. Eros, ho! +The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me, +Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: +Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon; +And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club, +Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die: +To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall +Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho! + +Exit + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Help me, my women! O, he is more mad +Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly +Was never so emboss'd. + +CHARMIAN +To the monument! +There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. +The soul and body rive not more in parting +Than greatness going off. + +CLEOPATRA +To the monument! +Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; +Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,' +And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian, +And bring me how he takes my death. +To the monument! + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIV. The same. Another room. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS +MARK ANTONY +Eros, thou yet behold'st me? + +EROS +Ay, noble lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; +A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, +A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, +A forked mountain, or blue promontory +With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, +And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen +these signs; +They are black vesper's pageants. + +EROS +Ay, my lord, + +MARK ANTONY +That which is now a horse, even with a thought +The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, +As water is in water. + +EROS +It does, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +My good knave Eros, now thy captain is +Even such a body: here I am Antony: +Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. +I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,-- +Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; +Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't +A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has +Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory +Unto an enemy's triumph. +Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us +Ourselves to end ourselves. + +Enter MARDIAN + +O! thy vile lady! +She has robb'd me of my sword. + +MARDIAN +No, Antony; +My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled +With thine entirely. + +MARK ANTONY +Hence, saucy eunuch; peace! +She hath betray'd me and shall die the death. + +MARDIAN +Death of one person can be paid but once, +And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do +Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake +Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!' +Then in the midst a tearing groan did break +The name of Antony; it was divided +Between her heart and lips: she render'd life, +Thy name so buried in her. + +MARK ANTONY +Dead, then? + +MARDIAN +Dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, +And we must sleep. + +To MARDIAN + +That thou depart'st hence safe, +Does pay thy labour richly; go. + +Exit MARDIAN + +Off, pluck off: +The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep +The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! +Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, +Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace. +No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; +You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. + +Exit EROS + +I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and +Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now +All length is torture: since the torch is out, +Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour +Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles +Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done. +Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me: +Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, +And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: +Dido and her AEneas shall want troops, +And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros! + +Re-enter EROS + +EROS +What would my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +Since Cleopatra died, +I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods +Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword +Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back +With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack +The courage of a woman; less noble mind +Than she which by her death our Caesar tells +'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros, +That, when the exigent should come, which now +Is come indeed, when I should see behind me +The inevitable prosecution of +Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, +Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come: +Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. +Put colour in thy cheek. + +EROS +The gods withhold me! +Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, +Though enemy, lost aim, and could not? + +MARK ANTONY +Eros, +Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see +Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down +His corrigible neck, his face subdued +To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat +Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded +His baseness that ensued? + +EROS +I would not see't. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. +Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn +Most useful for thy country. + +EROS +O, sir, pardon me! + +MARK ANTONY +When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then +To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once; +Or thy precedent services are all +But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. + +EROS +Turn from me, then, that noble countenance, +Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. + +MARK ANTONY +Lo thee! + +Turning from him + +EROS +My sword is drawn. + +MARK ANTONY +Then let it do at once +The thing why thou hast drawn it. + +EROS +My dear master, +My captain, and my emperor, let me say, +Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis said, man; and farewell. + +EROS +Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? + +MARK ANTONY +Now, Eros. + +EROS +Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow +Of Antony's death. + +Kills himself + +MARK ANTONY +Thrice-nobler than myself! +Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what +I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros +Have by their brave instruction got upon me +A nobleness in record: but I will be +A bridegroom in my death, and run into't +As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, +Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus + +Falling on his sword + +I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? +The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! + +Enter DERCETAS and Guard + +First Guard +What's the noise? + +MARK ANTONY +I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end +Of what I have begun. + +Second Guard +The star is fall'n. + +First Guard +And time is at his period. + +All +Alas, and woe! + +MARK ANTONY +Let him that loves me strike me dead. + +First Guard +Not I. + +Second Guard +Nor I. + +Third Guard +Nor any one. + +Exeunt Guard + +DERCETAS +Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. +This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, +Shall enter me with him. + +Enter DIOMEDES + +DIOMEDES +Where's Antony? + +DERCETAS +There, Diomed there. + +DIOMEDES +Lives he? +Wilt thou not answer, man? + +Exit DERCETAS + +MARK ANTONY +Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me +Sufficing strokes for death. + +DIOMEDES +Most absolute lord, +My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. + +MARK ANTONY +When did she send thee? + +DIOMEDES +Now, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Where is she? + +DIOMEDES +Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear +Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw-- +Which never shall be found--you did suspect +She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage +Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead; +But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent +Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, +I dread, too late. + +MARK ANTONY +Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. + +DIOMEDES +What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! +Come, your lord calls! + +Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; +'Tis the last service that I shall command you. + +First Guard +Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear +All your true followers out. + +All +Most heavy day! + +MARK ANTONY +Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate +To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome +Which comes to punish us, and we punish it +Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: +I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends, +And have my thanks for all. + +Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY + +SCENE XV. The same. A monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, I will never go from hence. + +CHARMIAN +Be comforted, dear madam. + +CLEOPATRA +No, I will not: +All strange and terrible events are welcome, +But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, +Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great +As that which makes it. + +Enter, below, DIOMEDES + +How now! is he dead? + +DIOMEDES +His death's upon him, but not dead. +Look out o' the other side your monument; +His guard have brought him thither. + +Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard + +CLEOPATRA +O sun, +Burn the great sphere thou movest in! +darkling stand +The varying shore o' the world. O Antony, +Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; +Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. + +MARK ANTONY +Peace! +Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, +But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. + +CLEOPATRA +So it should be, that none but Antony +Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying; only +I here importune death awhile, until +Of many thousand kisses the poor last +I lay up thy lips. + +CLEOPATRA +I dare not, dear,-- +Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not, +Lest I be taken: not the imperious show +Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall +Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, +serpents, have +Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: +Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes +And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour +Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,-- +Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up: +Assist, good friends. + +MARK ANTONY +O, quick, or I am gone. + +CLEOPATRA +Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! +Our strength is all gone into heaviness, +That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, +The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, +And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,-- +Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come; + +They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA + +And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: +Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, +Thus would I wear them out. + +All +A heavy sight! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying: +Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. + +CLEOPATRA +No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, +That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, +Provoked by my offence. + +MARK ANTONY +One word, sweet queen: +Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! + +CLEOPATRA +They do not go together. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle, hear me: +None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +My resolution and my hands I'll trust; +None about Caesar. + +MARK ANTONY +The miserable change now at my end +Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts +In feeding them with those my former fortunes +Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world, +The noblest; and do now not basely die, +Not cowardly put off my helmet to +My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman +Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; +I can no more. + +CLEOPATRA +Noblest of men, woo't die? +Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide +In this dull world, which in thy absence is +No better than a sty? O, see, my women, + +MARK ANTONY dies + +The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord! +O, wither'd is the garland of the war, +The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls +Are level now with men; the odds is gone, +And there is nothing left remarkable +Beneath the visiting moon. + +Faints + +CHARMIAN +O, quietness, lady! + +IRAS +She is dead too, our sovereign. + +CHARMIAN +Lady! + +IRAS +Madam! + +CHARMIAN +O madam, madam, madam! + +IRAS +Royal Egypt, Empress! + +CHARMIAN +Peace, peace, Iras! + +CLEOPATRA +No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded +By such poor passion as the maid that milks +And does the meanest chares. It were for me +To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; +To tell them that this world did equal theirs +Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; +Patience is scottish, and impatience does +Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin +To rush into the secret house of death, +Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? +What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! +My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, +Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart: +We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, +what's noble, +Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, +And make death proud to take us. Come, away: +This case of that huge spirit now is cold: +Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend +But resolution, and the briefest end. + +Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; +Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks +The pauses that he makes. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest +Appear thus to us? + +DERCETAS +I am call'd Dercetas; +Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy +Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, +He was my master; and I wore my life +To spend upon his haters. If thou please +To take me to thee, as I was to him +I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, +I yield thee up my life. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What is't thou say'st? + +DERCETAS +I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The breaking of so great a thing should make +A greater crack: the round world +Should have shook lions into civil streets, +And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony +Is not a single doom; in the name lay +A moiety of the world. + +DERCETAS +He is dead, Caesar: +Not by a public minister of justice, +Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, +Which writ his honour in the acts it did, +Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, +Splitted the heart. This is his sword; +I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd +With his most noble blood. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Look you sad, friends? +The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings +To wash the eyes of kings. + +AGRIPPA +And strange it is, +That nature must compel us to lament +Our most persisted deeds. + +MECAENAS +His taints and honours +Waged equal with him. + +AGRIPPA +A rarer spirit never +Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us +Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd. + +MECAENAS +When such a spacious mirror's set before him, +He needs must see himself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O Antony! +I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance +Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce +Have shown to thee such a declining day, +Or look on thine; we could not stall together +In the whole world: but yet let me lament, +With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, +That thou, my brother, my competitor +In top of all design, my mate in empire, +Friend and companion in the front of war, +The arm of mine own body, and the heart +Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars, +Unreconciliable, should divide +Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- +But I will tell you at some meeter season: + +Enter an Egyptian + +The business of this man looks out of him; +We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? + +Egyptian +A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, +Confined in all she has, her monument, +Of thy intents desires instruction, +That she preparedly may frame herself +To the way she's forced to. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bid her have good heart: +She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, +How honourable and how kindly we +Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live +To be ungentle. + +Egyptian +So the gods preserve thee! + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, +We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts +The quality of her passion shall require, +Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke +She do defeat us; for her life in Rome +Would be eternal in our triumph: go, +And with your speediest bring us what she says, +And how you find of her. + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Gallus, go you along. + +Exit GALLUS + +Where's Dolabella, +To second Proculeius? + +All +Dolabella! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him alone, for I remember now +How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready. +Go with me to my tent; where you shall see +How hardly I was drawn into this war; +How calm and gentle I proceeded still +In all my writings: go with me, and see +What I can show in this. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. A room in the monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +My desolation does begin to make +A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; +Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, +A minister of her will: and it is great +To do that thing that ends all other deeds; +Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; +Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, +The beggar's nurse and Caesar's. + +Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS and Soldiers + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; +And bids thee study on what fair demands +Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. + +CLEOPATRA +What's thy name? + +PROCULEIUS +My name is Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +Antony +Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but +I do not greatly care to be deceived, +That have no use for trusting. If your master +Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, +That majesty, to keep decorum, must +No less beg than a kingdom: if he please +To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son, +He gives me so much of mine own, as I +Will kneel to him with thanks. + +PROCULEIUS +Be of good cheer; +You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing: +Make your full reference freely to my lord, +Who is so full of grace, that it flows over +On all that need: let me report to him +Your sweet dependency; and you shall find +A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, +Where he for grace is kneel'd to. + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, tell him +I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him +The greatness he has got. I hourly learn +A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly +Look him i' the face. + +PROCULEIUS +This I'll report, dear lady. +Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied +Of him that caused it. + +GALLUS +You see how easily she may be surprised: + +Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates + +To PROCULEIUS and the Guard + +Guard her till Caesar come. + +Exit + +IRAS +Royal queen! + +CHARMIAN +O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen: + +CLEOPATRA +Quick, quick, good hands. + +Drawing a dagger + +PROCULEIUS +Hold, worthy lady, hold: + +Seizes and disarms her + +Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this +Relieved, but not betray'd. + +CLEOPATRA +What, of death too, +That rids our dogs of languish? + +PROCULEIUS +Cleopatra, +Do not abuse my master's bounty by +The undoing of yourself: let the world see +His nobleness well acted, which your death +Will never let come forth. + +CLEOPATRA +Where art thou, death? +Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen +Worthy many babes and beggars! + +PROCULEIUS +O, temperance, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; +If idle talk will once be necessary, +I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, +Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I +Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; +Nor once be chastised with the sober eye +Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up +And show me to the shouting varletry +Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt +Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud +Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies +Blow me into abhorring! rather make +My country's high pyramides my gibbet, +And hang me up in chains! + +PROCULEIUS +You do extend +These thoughts of horror further than you shall +Find cause in Caesar. + +Enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Proculeius, +What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, +And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, +I'll take her to my guard. + +PROCULEIUS +So, Dolabella, +It shall content me best: be gentle to her. + +To CLEOPATRA + +To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, +If you'll employ me to him. + +CLEOPATRA +Say, I would die. + +Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers + +DOLABELLA +Most noble empress, you have heard of me? + +CLEOPATRA +I cannot tell. + +DOLABELLA +Assuredly you know me. + +CLEOPATRA +No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. +You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; +Is't not your trick? + +DOLABELLA +I understand not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: +O, such another sleep, that I might see +But such another man! + +DOLABELLA +If it might please ye,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck +A sun and moon, which kept their course, +and lighted +The little O, the earth. + +DOLABELLA +Most sovereign creature,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm +Crested the world: his voice was propertied +As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; +But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, +He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, +There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas +That grew the more by reaping: his delights +Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above +The element they lived in: in his livery +Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were +As plates dropp'd from his pocket. + +DOLABELLA +Cleopatra! + +CLEOPATRA +Think you there was, or might be, such a man +As this I dream'd of? + +DOLABELLA +Gentle madam, no. + +CLEOPATRA +You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. +But, if there be, or ever were, one such, +It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff +To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine +And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, +Condemning shadows quite. + +DOLABELLA +Hear me, good madam. +Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it +As answering to the weight: would I might never +O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, +By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites +My very heart at root. + +CLEOPATRA +I thank you, sir, +Know you what Caesar means to do with me? + +DOLABELLA +I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, sir,-- + +DOLABELLA +Though he be honourable,-- + +CLEOPATRA +He'll lead me, then, in triumph? + +DOLABELLA +Madam, he will; I know't. + +Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there: Octavius Caesar!' + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which is the Queen of Egypt? + +DOLABELLA +It is the emperor, madam. + +CLEOPATRA kneels + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Arise, you shall not kneel: +I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, the gods +Will have it thus; my master and my lord +I must obey. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take to you no hard thoughts: +The record of what injuries you did us, +Though written in our flesh, we shall remember +As things but done by chance. + +CLEOPATRA +Sole sir o' the world, +I cannot project mine own cause so well +To make it clear; but do confess I have +Been laden with like frailties which before +Have often shamed our sex. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, know, +We will extenuate rather than enforce: +If you apply yourself to our intents, +Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find +A benefit in this change; but if you seek +To lay on me a cruelty, by taking +Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself +Of my good purposes, and put your children +To that destruction which I'll guard them from, +If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. + +CLEOPATRA +And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, +Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall +Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. + +CLEOPATRA +This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, +I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; +Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? + +SELEUCUS +Here, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, +Upon his peril, that I have reserved +To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. + +SELEUCUS +Madam, +I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, +Speak that which is not. + +CLEOPATRA +What have I kept back? + +SELEUCUS +Enough to purchase what you have made known. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve +Your wisdom in the deed. + +CLEOPATRA +See, Caesar! O, behold, +How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours; +And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. +The ingratitude of this Seleucus does +Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust +Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt +Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, +Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! +O rarely base! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good queen, let us entreat you. + +CLEOPATRA +O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, +That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, +Doing the honour of thy lordliness +To one so meek, that mine own servant should +Parcel the sum of my disgraces by +Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, +That I some lady trifles have reserved, +Immoment toys, things of such dignity +As we greet modern friends withal; and say, +Some nobler token I have kept apart +For Livia and Octavia, to induce +Their mediation; must I be unfolded +With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me +Beneath the fall I have. + +To SELEUCUS + +Prithee, go hence; +Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits +Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, +Thou wouldst have mercy on me. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Forbear, Seleucus. + +Exit SELEUCUS + +CLEOPATRA +Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought +For things that others do; and, when we fall, +We answer others' merits in our name, +Are therefore to be pitied. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, +Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, +Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours, +Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, +Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you +Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; +Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; +For we intend so to dispose you as +Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: +Our care and pity is so much upon you, +That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. + +CLEOPATRA +My master, and my lord! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not so. Adieu. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train + +CLEOPATRA +He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not +Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. + +Whispers CHARMIAN + +IRAS +Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, +And we are for the dark. + +CLEOPATRA +Hie thee again: +I have spoke already, and it is provided; +Go put it to the haste. + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I will. + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Behold, sir. + +Exit + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella! + +DOLABELLA +Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, +Which my love makes religion to obey, +I tell you this: Caesar through Syria +Intends his journey; and within three days +You with your children will he send before: +Make your best use of this: I have perform'd +Your pleasure and my promise. + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella, +I shall remain your debtor. + +DOLABELLA +I your servant, +Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell, and thanks. + +Exit DOLABELLA + +Now, Iras, what think'st thou? +Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown +In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves +With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall +Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, +Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, +And forced to drink their vapour. + +IRAS +The gods forbid! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors +Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers +Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians +Extemporally will stage us, and present +Our Alexandrian revels; Antony +Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see +Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness +I' the posture of a whore. + +IRAS +O the good gods! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, that's certain. + +IRAS +I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails +Are stronger than mine eyes. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, that's the way +To fool their preparation, and to conquer +Their most absurd intents. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN + +Now, Charmian! +Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch +My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, +To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. +Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed; +And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave +To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. +Wherefore's this noise? + +Exit IRAS. A noise within + +Enter a Guardsman + +Guard +Here is a rural fellow +That will not be denied your highness presence: +He brings you figs. + +CLEOPATRA +Let him come in. + +Exit Guardsman + +What poor an instrument +May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. +My resolution's placed, and I have nothing +Of woman in me: now from head to foot +I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon +No planet is of mine. + +Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket + +Guard +This is the man. + +CLEOPATRA +Avoid, and leave him. + +Exit Guardsman + +Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, +That kills and pains not? + +Clown +Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party +that should desire you to touch him, for his biting +is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or +never recover. + +CLEOPATRA +Rememberest thou any that have died on't? + +Clown +Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of +them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, +but something given to lie; as a woman should not +do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the +biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes +a very good report o' the worm; but he that will +believe all that they say, shall never be saved by +half that they do: but this is most fallible, the +worm's an odd worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Get thee hence; farewell. + +Clown +I wish you all joy of the worm. + +Setting down his basket + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell. + +Clown +You must think this, look you, that the worm will +do his kind. + +CLEOPATRA +Ay, ay; farewell. + +Clown +Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the +keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no +goodness in worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. + +Clown +Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is +not worth the feeding. + +CLEOPATRA +Will it eat me? + +Clown +You must not think I am so simple but I know the +devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a +woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her +not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the +gods great harm in their women; for in every ten +that they make, the devils mar five. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, get thee gone; farewell. + +Clown +Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm. + +Exit + +Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, & c + +CLEOPATRA +Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have +Immortal longings in me: now no more +The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: +Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear +Antony call; I see him rouse himself +To praise my noble act; I hear him mock +The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men +To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: +Now to that name my courage prove my title! +I am fire and air; my other elements +I give to baser life. So; have you done? +Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. +Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. + +Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies + +Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? +If thou and nature can so gently part, +The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, +Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? +If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world +It is not worth leave-taking. + +CHARMIAN +Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, +The gods themselves do weep! + +CLEOPATRA +This proves me base: +If she first meet the curled Antony, +He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss +Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou +mortal wretch, + +To an asp, which she applies to her breast + +With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate +Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool +Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, +That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass +Unpolicied! + +CHARMIAN +O eastern star! + +CLEOPATRA +Peace, peace! +Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, +That sucks the nurse asleep? + +CHARMIAN +O, break! O, break! + +CLEOPATRA +As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- +O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too. + +Applying another asp to her arm + +What should I stay-- + +Dies + +CHARMIAN +In this vile world? So, fare thee well. +Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies +A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; +And golden Phoebus never be beheld +Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; +I'll mend it, and then play. + +Enter the Guard, rushing in + +First Guard +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Speak softly, wake her not. + +First Guard +Caesar hath sent-- + +CHARMIAN +Too slow a messenger. + +Applies an asp + +O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. + +First Guard +Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled. + +Second Guard +There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him. + +First Guard +What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? + +CHARMIAN +It is well done, and fitting for a princess +Descended of so many royal kings. +Ah, soldier! + +Dies + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +How goes it here? + +Second Guard +All dead. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, thy thoughts +Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming +To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou +So sought'st to hinder. + +Within 'A way there, a way for Caesar!' + +Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching + +DOLABELLA +O sir, you are too sure an augurer; +That you did fear is done. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bravest at the last, +She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, +Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? +I do not see them bleed. + +DOLABELLA +Who was last with them? + +First Guard +A simple countryman, that brought her figs: +This was his basket. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Poison'd, then. + +First Guard +O Caesar, +This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake: +I found her trimming up the diadem +On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood +And on the sudden dropp'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O noble weakness! +If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear +By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, +As she would catch another Antony +In her strong toil of grace. + +DOLABELLA +Here, on her breast, +There is a vent of blood and something blown: +The like is on her arm. + +First Guard +This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves +Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves +Upon the caves of Nile. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most probable +That so she died; for her physician tells me +She hath pursued conclusions infinite +Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed; +And bear her women from the monument: +She shall be buried by her Antony: +No grave upon the earth shall clip in it +A pair so famous. High events as these +Strike those that make them; and their story is +No less in pity than his glory which +Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall +In solemn show attend this funeral; +And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see +High order in this great solemnity. + +Exeunt +The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark +Shakespeare homepage | Hamlet | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. + +FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO +BERNARDO +Who's there? + +FRANCISCO +Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. + +BERNARDO +Long live the king! + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo? + +BERNARDO +He. + +FRANCISCO +You come most carefully upon your hour. + +BERNARDO +'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. + +FRANCISCO +For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, +And I am sick at heart. + +BERNARDO +Have you had quiet guard? + +FRANCISCO +Not a mouse stirring. + +BERNARDO +Well, good night. +If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, +The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. + +FRANCISCO +I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there? + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +HORATIO +Friends to this ground. + +MARCELLUS +And liegemen to the Dane. + +FRANCISCO +Give you good night. + +MARCELLUS +O, farewell, honest soldier: +Who hath relieved you? + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo has my place. +Give you good night. + +Exit + +MARCELLUS +Holla! Bernardo! + +BERNARDO +Say, +What, is Horatio there? + +HORATIO +A piece of him. + +BERNARDO +Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? + +BERNARDO +I have seen nothing. + +MARCELLUS +Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, +And will not let belief take hold of him +Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: +Therefore I have entreated him along +With us to watch the minutes of this night; +That if again this apparition come, +He may approve our eyes and speak to it. + +HORATIO +Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. + +BERNARDO +Sit down awhile; +And let us once again assail your ears, +That are so fortified against our story +What we have two nights seen. + +HORATIO +Well, sit we down, +And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. + +BERNARDO +Last night of all, +When yond same star that's westward from the pole +Had made his course to illume that part of heaven +Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, +The bell then beating one,-- + +Enter Ghost + +MARCELLUS +Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! + +BERNARDO +In the same figure, like the king that's dead. + +MARCELLUS +Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. + +BERNARDO +Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder. + +BERNARDO +It would be spoke to. + +MARCELLUS +Question it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, +Together with that fair and warlike form +In which the majesty of buried Denmark +Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak! + +MARCELLUS +It is offended. + +BERNARDO +See, it stalks away! + +HORATIO +Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! + +Exit Ghost + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone, and will not answer. + +BERNARDO +How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: +Is not this something more than fantasy? +What think you on't? + +HORATIO +Before my God, I might not this believe +Without the sensible and true avouch +Of mine own eyes. + +MARCELLUS +Is it not like the king? + +HORATIO +As thou art to thyself: +Such was the very armour he had on +When he the ambitious Norway combated; +So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, +He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. +'Tis strange. + +MARCELLUS +Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, +With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. + +HORATIO +In what particular thought to work I know not; +But in the gross and scope of my opinion, +This bodes some strange eruption to our state. + +MARCELLUS +Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, +Why this same strict and most observant watch +So nightly toils the subject of the land, +And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, +And foreign mart for implements of war; +Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task +Does not divide the Sunday from the week; +What might be toward, that this sweaty haste +Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: +Who is't that can inform me? + +HORATIO +That can I; +At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, +Whose image even but now appear'd to us, +Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, +Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride, +Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet-- +For so this side of our known world esteem'd him-- +Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact, +Well ratified by law and heraldry, +Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands +Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: +Against the which, a moiety competent +Was gaged by our king; which had return'd +To the inheritance of Fortinbras, +Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant, +And carriage of the article design'd, +His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, +Of unimproved mettle hot and full, +Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there +Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes, +For food and diet, to some enterprise +That hath a stomach in't; which is no other-- +As it doth well appear unto our state-- +But to recover of us, by strong hand +And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands +So by his father lost: and this, I take it, +Is the main motive of our preparations, +The source of this our watch and the chief head +Of this post-haste and romage in the land. + +BERNARDO +I think it be no other but e'en so: +Well may it sort that this portentous figure +Comes armed through our watch; so like the king +That was and is the question of these wars. + +HORATIO +A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. +In the most high and palmy state of Rome, +A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, +The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead +Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: +As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, +Disasters in the sun; and the moist star +Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands +Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: +And even the like precurse of fierce events, +As harbingers preceding still the fates +And prologue to the omen coming on, +Have heaven and earth together demonstrated +Unto our climatures and countrymen.-- +But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! + +Re-enter Ghost + +I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion! +If thou hast any sound, or use of voice, +Speak to me: +If there be any good thing to be done, +That may to thee do ease and grace to me, +Speak to me: + +Cock crows + +If thou art privy to thy country's fate, +Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! +Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life +Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, +For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, +Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +Shall I strike at it with my partisan? + +HORATIO +Do, if it will not stand. + +BERNARDO +'Tis here! + +HORATIO +'Tis here! + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone! + +Exit Ghost + +We do it wrong, being so majestical, +To offer it the show of violence; +For it is, as the air, invulnerable, +And our vain blows malicious mockery. + +BERNARDO +It was about to speak, when the cock crew. + +HORATIO +And then it started like a guilty thing +Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, +The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, +Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat +Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, +Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, +The extravagant and erring spirit hies +To his confine: and of the truth herein +This present object made probation. + +MARCELLUS +It faded on the crowing of the cock. +Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes +Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, +The bird of dawning singeth all night long: +And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; +The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, +No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, +So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. + +HORATIO +So have I heard and do in part believe it. +But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, +Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill: +Break we our watch up; and by my advice, +Let us impart what we have seen to-night +Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, +This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. +Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, +As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? + +MARCELLUS +Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know +Where we shall find him most conveniently. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room of state in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death +The memory be green, and that it us befitted +To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom +To be contracted in one brow of woe, +Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature +That we with wisest sorrow think on him, +Together with remembrance of ourselves. +Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, +The imperial jointress to this warlike state, +Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-- +With an auspicious and a dropping eye, +With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, +In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-- +Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd +Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone +With this affair along. For all, our thanks. +Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, +Holding a weak supposal of our worth, +Or thinking by our late dear brother's death +Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, +Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, +He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, +Importing the surrender of those lands +Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, +To our most valiant brother. So much for him. +Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: +Thus much the business is: we have here writ +To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-- +Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears +Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress +His further gait herein; in that the levies, +The lists and full proportions, are all made +Out of his subject: and we here dispatch +You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, +For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; +Giving to you no further personal power +To business with the king, more than the scope +Of these delated articles allow. +Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. + +CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND +In that and all things will we show our duty. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? +You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? +You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, +And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, +That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? +The head is not more native to the heart, +The hand more instrumental to the mouth, +Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. +What wouldst thou have, Laertes? + +LAERTES +My dread lord, +Your leave and favour to return to France; +From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, +To show my duty in your coronation, +Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, +My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France +And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? + +LORD POLONIUS +He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave +By laboursome petition, and at last +Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: +I do beseech you, give him leave to go. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, +And thy best graces spend it at thy will! +But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-- + +HAMLET +[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How is it that the clouds still hang on you? + +HAMLET +Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, +And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. +Do not for ever with thy vailed lids +Seek for thy noble father in the dust: +Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, +Passing through nature to eternity. + +HAMLET +Ay, madam, it is common. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +If it be, +Why seems it so particular with thee? + +HAMLET +Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.' +'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, +Nor customary suits of solemn black, +Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, +No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, +Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, +Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, +That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, +For they are actions that a man might play: +But I have that within which passeth show; +These but the trappings and the suits of woe. + +KING CLAUDIUS +'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, +To give these mourning duties to your father: +But, you must know, your father lost a father; +That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound +In filial obligation for some term +To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever +In obstinate condolement is a course +Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief; +It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, +A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, +An understanding simple and unschool'd: +For what we know must be and is as common +As any the most vulgar thing to sense, +Why should we in our peevish opposition +Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, +A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, +To reason most absurd: whose common theme +Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, +From the first corse till he that died to-day, +'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth +This unprevailing woe, and think of us +As of a father: for let the world take note, +You are the most immediate to our throne; +And with no less nobility of love +Than that which dearest father bears his son, +Do I impart toward you. For your intent +In going back to school in Wittenberg, +It is most retrograde to our desire: +And we beseech you, bend you to remain +Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, +Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: +I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. + +HAMLET +I shall in all my best obey you, madam. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply: +Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; +This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet +Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, +No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, +But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, +And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again, +Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +HAMLET +O, that this too too solid flesh would melt +Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! +Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd +His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! +How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, +Seem to me all the uses of this world! +Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, +That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature +Possess it merely. That it should come to this! +But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: +So excellent a king; that was, to this, +Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother +That he might not beteem the winds of heaven +Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! +Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, +As if increase of appetite had grown +By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- +Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!-- +A little month, or ere those shoes were old +With which she follow'd my poor father's body, +Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she-- +O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, +Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle, +My father's brother, but no more like my father +Than I to Hercules: within a month: +Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears +Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, +She married. O, most wicked speed, to post +With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! +It is not nor it cannot come to good: +But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. + +Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO + +HORATIO +Hail to your lordship! + +HAMLET +I am glad to see you well: +Horatio,--or I do forget myself. + +HORATIO +The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. + +HAMLET +Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: +And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus? + +MARCELLUS +My good lord-- + +HAMLET +I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. +But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? + +HORATIO +A truant disposition, good my lord. + +HAMLET +I would not hear your enemy say so, +Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, +To make it truster of your own report +Against yourself: I know you are no truant. +But what is your affair in Elsinore? +We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. + +HORATIO +My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. + +HAMLET +I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; +I think it was to see my mother's wedding. + +HORATIO +Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. + +HAMLET +Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats +Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. +Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven +Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! +My father!--methinks I see my father. + +HORATIO +Where, my lord? + +HAMLET +In my mind's eye, Horatio. + +HORATIO +I saw him once; he was a goodly king. + +HAMLET +He was a man, take him for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. + +HORATIO +My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. + +HAMLET +Saw? who? + +HORATIO +My lord, the king your father. + +HAMLET +The king my father! + +HORATIO +Season your admiration for awhile +With an attent ear, till I may deliver, +Upon the witness of these gentlemen, +This marvel to you. + +HAMLET +For God's love, let me hear. + +HORATIO +Two nights together had these gentlemen, +Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, +In the dead vast and middle of the night, +Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, +Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe, +Appears before them, and with solemn march +Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd +By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, +Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled +Almost to jelly with the act of fear, +Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me +In dreadful secrecy impart they did; +And I with them the third night kept the watch; +Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, +Form of the thing, each word made true and good, +The apparition comes: I knew your father; +These hands are not more like. + +HAMLET +But where was this? + +MARCELLUS +My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. + +HAMLET +Did you not speak to it? + +HORATIO +My lord, I did; +But answer made it none: yet once methought +It lifted up its head and did address +Itself to motion, like as it would speak; +But even then the morning cock crew loud, +And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, +And vanish'd from our sight. + +HAMLET +'Tis very strange. + +HORATIO +As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; +And we did think it writ down in our duty +To let you know of it. + +HAMLET +Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. +Hold you the watch to-night? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +We do, my lord. + +HAMLET +Arm'd, say you? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Arm'd, my lord. + +HAMLET +From top to toe? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +My lord, from head to foot. + +HAMLET +Then saw you not his face? + +HORATIO +O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. + +HAMLET +What, look'd he frowningly? + +HORATIO +A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. + +HAMLET +Pale or red? + +HORATIO +Nay, very pale. + +HAMLET +And fix'd his eyes upon you? + +HORATIO +Most constantly. + +HAMLET +I would I had been there. + +HORATIO +It would have much amazed you. + +HAMLET +Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? + +HORATIO +While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Longer, longer. + +HORATIO +Not when I saw't. + +HAMLET +His beard was grizzled--no? + +HORATIO +It was, as I have seen it in his life, +A sable silver'd. + +HAMLET +I will watch to-night; +Perchance 'twill walk again. + +HORATIO +I warrant it will. + +HAMLET +If it assume my noble father's person, +I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape +And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, +If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, +Let it be tenable in your silence still; +And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, +Give it an understanding, but no tongue: +I will requite your loves. So, fare you well: +Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, +I'll visit you. + +All +Our duty to your honour. + +HAMLET +Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; +I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! +Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, +Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house. + +Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA +LAERTES +My necessaries are embark'd: farewell: +And, sister, as the winds give benefit +And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, +But let me hear from you. + +OPHELIA +Do you doubt that? + +LAERTES +For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour, +Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, +A violet in the youth of primy nature, +Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, +The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more. + +OPHELIA +No more but so? + +LAERTES +Think it no more; +For nature, crescent, does not grow alone +In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, +The inward service of the mind and soul +Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, +And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch +The virtue of his will: but you must fear, +His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own; +For he himself is subject to his birth: +He may not, as unvalued persons do, +Carve for himself; for on his choice depends +The safety and health of this whole state; +And therefore must his choice be circumscribed +Unto the voice and yielding of that body +Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, +It fits your wisdom so far to believe it +As he in his particular act and place +May give his saying deed; which is no further +Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. +Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, +If with too credent ear you list his songs, +Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open +To his unmaster'd importunity. +Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, +And keep you in the rear of your affection, +Out of the shot and danger of desire. +The chariest maid is prodigal enough, +If she unmask her beauty to the moon: +Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes: +The canker galls the infants of the spring, +Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, +And in the morn and liquid dew of youth +Contagious blastments are most imminent. +Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: +Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. + +OPHELIA +I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, +As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, +Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, +Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; +Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, +Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, +And recks not his own rede. + +LAERTES +O, fear me not. +I stay too long: but here my father comes. + +Enter POLONIUS + +A double blessing is a double grace, +Occasion smiles upon a second leave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! +The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, +And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! +And these few precepts in thy memory +See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, +Nor any unproportioned thought his act. +Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. +Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, +Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; +But do not dull thy palm with entertainment +Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware +Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, +Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. +Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; +Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. +Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, +But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; +For the apparel oft proclaims the man, +And they in France of the best rank and station +Are of a most select and generous chief in that. +Neither a borrower nor a lender be; +For loan oft loses both itself and friend, +And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. +This above all: to thine ownself be true, +And it must follow, as the night the day, +Thou canst not then be false to any man. +Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! + +LAERTES +Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +The time invites you; go; your servants tend. + +LAERTES +Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well +What I have said to you. + +OPHELIA +'Tis in my memory lock'd, +And you yourself shall keep the key of it. + +LAERTES +Farewell. + +Exit + +LORD POLONIUS +What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you? + +OPHELIA +So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well bethought: +'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late +Given private time to you; and you yourself +Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: +If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, +And that in way of caution, I must tell you, +You do not understand yourself so clearly +As it behoves my daughter and your honour. +What is between you? give me up the truth. + +OPHELIA +He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders +Of his affection to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, +Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. +Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? + +OPHELIA +I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; +That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, +Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; +Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, +Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool. + +OPHELIA +My lord, he hath importuned me with love +In honourable fashion. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. + +OPHELIA +And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, +With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, +When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul +Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, +Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, +Even in their promise, as it is a-making, +You must not take for fire. From this time +Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence; +Set your entreatments at a higher rate +Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, +Believe so much in him, that he is young +And with a larger tether may he walk +Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, +Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, +Not of that dye which their investments show, +But mere implorators of unholy suits, +Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, +The better to beguile. This is for all: +I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, +Have you so slander any moment leisure, +As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. +Look to't, I charge you: come your ways. + +OPHELIA +I shall obey, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The platform. + +Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS +HAMLET +The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. + +HORATIO +It is a nipping and an eager air. + +HAMLET +What hour now? + +HORATIO +I think it lacks of twelve. + +HAMLET +No, it is struck. + +HORATIO +Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season +Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. + +A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within + +What does this mean, my lord? + +HAMLET +The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, +Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels; +And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, +The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out +The triumph of his pledge. + +HORATIO +Is it a custom? + +HAMLET +Ay, marry, is't: +But to my mind, though I am native here +And to the manner born, it is a custom +More honour'd in the breach than the observance. +This heavy-headed revel east and west +Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations: +They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase +Soil our addition; and indeed it takes +From our achievements, though perform'd at height, +The pith and marrow of our attribute. +So, oft it chances in particular men, +That for some vicious mole of nature in them, +As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty, +Since nature cannot choose his origin-- +By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, +Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, +Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens +The form of plausive manners, that these men, +Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, +Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-- +Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace, +As infinite as man may undergo-- +Shall in the general censure take corruption +From that particular fault: the dram of eale +Doth all the noble substance of a doubt +To his own scandal. + +HORATIO +Look, my lord, it comes! + +Enter Ghost + +HAMLET +Angels and ministers of grace defend us! +Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, +Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, +Be thy intents wicked or charitable, +Thou comest in such a questionable shape +That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, +King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me! +Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell +Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, +Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre, +Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, +Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, +To cast thee up again. What may this mean, +That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel +Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, +Making night hideous; and we fools of nature +So horridly to shake our disposition +With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? +Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? + +Ghost beckons HAMLET + +HORATIO +It beckons you to go away with it, +As if it some impartment did desire +To you alone. + +MARCELLUS +Look, with what courteous action +It waves you to a more removed ground: +But do not go with it. + +HORATIO +No, by no means. + +HAMLET +It will not speak; then I will follow it. + +HORATIO +Do not, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, what should be the fear? +I do not set my life in a pin's fee; +And for my soul, what can it do to that, +Being a thing immortal as itself? +It waves me forth again: I'll follow it. + +HORATIO +What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, +Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff +That beetles o'er his base into the sea, +And there assume some other horrible form, +Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason +And draw you into madness? think of it: +The very place puts toys of desperation, +Without more motive, into every brain +That looks so many fathoms to the sea +And hears it roar beneath. + +HAMLET +It waves me still. +Go on; I'll follow thee. + +MARCELLUS +You shall not go, my lord. + +HAMLET +Hold off your hands. + +HORATIO +Be ruled; you shall not go. + +HAMLET +My fate cries out, +And makes each petty artery in this body +As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. +Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. +By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! +I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee. + +Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET + +HORATIO +He waxes desperate with imagination. + +MARCELLUS +Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. + +HORATIO +Have after. To what issue will this come? + +MARCELLUS +Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. + +HORATIO +Heaven will direct it. + +MARCELLUS +Nay, let's follow him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the platform. + +Enter GHOST and HAMLET +HAMLET +Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further. + +Ghost +Mark me. + +HAMLET +I will. + +Ghost +My hour is almost come, +When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames +Must render up myself. + +HAMLET +Alas, poor ghost! + +Ghost +Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing +To what I shall unfold. + +HAMLET +Speak; I am bound to hear. + +Ghost +So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. + +HAMLET +What? + +Ghost +I am thy father's spirit, +Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, +And for the day confined to fast in fires, +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature +Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid +To tell the secrets of my prison-house, +I could a tale unfold whose lightest word +Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, +Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, +Thy knotted and combined locks to part +And each particular hair to stand on end, +Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: +But this eternal blazon must not be +To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! +If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- + +HAMLET +O God! + +Ghost +Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. + +HAMLET +Murder! + +Ghost +Murder most foul, as in the best it is; +But this most foul, strange and unnatural. + +HAMLET +Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift +As meditation or the thoughts of love, +May sweep to my revenge. + +Ghost +I find thee apt; +And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed +That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, +Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: +'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, +A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark +Is by a forged process of my death +Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, +The serpent that did sting thy father's life +Now wears his crown. + +HAMLET +O my prophetic soul! My uncle! + +Ghost +Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, +With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,-- +O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power +So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust +The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen: +O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! +From me, whose love was of that dignity +That it went hand in hand even with the vow +I made to her in marriage, and to decline +Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor +To those of mine! +But virtue, as it never will be moved, +Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, +So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, +Will sate itself in a celestial bed, +And prey on garbage. +But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; +Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, +My custom always of the afternoon, +Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, +With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, +And in the porches of my ears did pour +The leperous distilment; whose effect +Holds such an enmity with blood of man +That swift as quicksilver it courses through +The natural gates and alleys of the body, +And with a sudden vigour doth posset +And curd, like eager droppings into milk, +The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; +And a most instant tetter bark'd about, +Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, +All my smooth body. +Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand +Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: +Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, +Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, +No reckoning made, but sent to my account +With all my imperfections on my head: +O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! +If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; +Let not the royal bed of Denmark be +A couch for luxury and damned incest. +But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, +Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive +Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven +And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, +To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once! +The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, +And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: +Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me. + +Exit + +HAMLET +O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else? +And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart; +And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, +But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! +Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat +In this distracted globe. Remember thee! +Yea, from the table of my memory +I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, +All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, +That youth and observation copied there; +And thy commandment all alone shall live +Within the book and volume of my brain, +Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven! +O most pernicious woman! +O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! +My tables,--meet it is I set it down, +That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; +At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark: + +Writing + +So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; +It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.' +I have sworn 't. + +MARCELLUS HORATIO +[Within] My lord, my lord,-- + +MARCELLUS +[Within] Lord Hamlet,-- + +HORATIO +[Within] Heaven secure him! + +HAMLET +So be it! + +HORATIO +[Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord! + +HAMLET +Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come. + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +MARCELLUS +How is't, my noble lord? + +HORATIO +What news, my lord? + +HAMLET +O, wonderful! + +HORATIO +Good my lord, tell it. + +HAMLET +No; you'll reveal it. + +HORATIO +Not I, my lord, by heaven. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord. + +HAMLET +How say you, then; would heart of man once think it? +But you'll be secret? + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +Ay, by heaven, my lord. + +HAMLET +There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark +But he's an arrant knave. + +HORATIO +There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave +To tell us this. + +HAMLET +Why, right; you are i' the right; +And so, without more circumstance at all, +I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: +You, as your business and desire shall point you; +For every man has business and desire, +Such as it is; and for mine own poor part, +Look you, I'll go pray. + +HORATIO +These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. + +HAMLET +I'm sorry they offend you, heartily; +Yes, 'faith heartily. + +HORATIO +There's no offence, my lord. + +HAMLET +Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, +And much offence too. Touching this vision here, +It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: +For your desire to know what is between us, +O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends, +As you are friends, scholars and soldiers, +Give me one poor request. + +HORATIO +What is't, my lord? we will. + +HAMLET +Never make known what you have seen to-night. + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +My lord, we will not. + +HAMLET +Nay, but swear't. + +HORATIO +In faith, +My lord, not I. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord, in faith. + +HAMLET +Upon my sword. + +MARCELLUS +We have sworn, my lord, already. + +HAMLET +Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, +truepenny? +Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage-- +Consent to swear. + +HORATIO +Propose the oath, my lord. + +HAMLET +Never to speak of this that you have seen, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground. +Come hither, gentlemen, +And lay your hands again upon my sword: +Never to speak of this that you have heard, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast? +A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. + +HORATIO +O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! + +HAMLET +And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. +There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, +Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come; +Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, +How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself, +As I perchance hereafter shall think meet +To put an antic disposition on, +That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, +With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake, +Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, +As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' +Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' +Or such ambiguous giving out, to note +That you know aught of me: this not to do, +So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! + +They swear + +So, gentlemen, +With all my love I do commend me to you: +And what so poor a man as Hamlet is +May do, to express his love and friending to you, +God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; +And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. +The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, +That ever I was born to set it right! +Nay, come, let's go together. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS' house. + +Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO +LORD POLONIUS +Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. + +REYNALDO +I will, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, +Before you visit him, to make inquire +Of his behavior. + +REYNALDO +My lord, I did intend it. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir, +Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; +And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, +What company, at what expense; and finding +By this encompassment and drift of question +That they do know my son, come you more nearer +Than your particular demands will touch it: +Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; +As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, +And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo? + +REYNALDO +Ay, very well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well: +But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; +Addicted so and so:' and there put on him +What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank +As may dishonour him; take heed of that; +But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips +As are companions noted and most known +To youth and liberty. + +REYNALDO +As gaming, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, +Drabbing: you may go so far. + +REYNALDO +My lord, that would dishonour him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge +You must not put another scandal on him, +That he is open to incontinency; +That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly +That they may seem the taints of liberty, +The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, +A savageness in unreclaimed blood, +Of general assault. + +REYNALDO +But, my good lord,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +Wherefore should you do this? + +REYNALDO +Ay, my lord, +I would know that. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, sir, here's my drift; +And I believe, it is a fetch of wit: +You laying these slight sullies on my son, +As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you, +Your party in converse, him you would sound, +Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes +The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured +He closes with you in this consequence; +'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' +According to the phrase or the addition +Of man and country. + +REYNALDO +Very good, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I +about to say? By the mass, I was about to say +something: where did I leave? + +REYNALDO +At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' +and 'gentleman.' + +LORD POLONIUS +At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry; +He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman; +I saw him yesterday, or t' other day, +Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, +There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; +There falling out at tennis:' or perchance, +'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' +Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. +See you now; +Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth: +And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, +With windlasses and with assays of bias, +By indirections find directions out: +So by my former lecture and advice, +Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? + +REYNALDO +My lord, I have. + +LORD POLONIUS +God be wi' you; fare you well. + +REYNALDO +Good my lord! + +LORD POLONIUS +Observe his inclination in yourself. + +REYNALDO +I shall, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And let him ply his music. + +REYNALDO +Well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Farewell! + +Exit REYNALDO + +Enter OPHELIA + +How now, Ophelia! what's the matter? + +OPHELIA +O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! + +LORD POLONIUS +With what, i' the name of God? + +OPHELIA +My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, +Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; +No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, +Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; +Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; +And with a look so piteous in purport +As if he had been loosed out of hell +To speak of horrors,--he comes before me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Mad for thy love? + +OPHELIA +My lord, I do not know; +But truly, I do fear it. + +LORD POLONIUS +What said he? + +OPHELIA +He took me by the wrist and held me hard; +Then goes he to the length of all his arm; +And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, +He falls to such perusal of my face +As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; +At last, a little shaking of mine arm +And thrice his head thus waving up and down, +He raised a sigh so piteous and profound +As it did seem to shatter all his bulk +And end his being: that done, he lets me go: +And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, +He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; +For out o' doors he went without their helps, +And, to the last, bended their light on me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, go with me: I will go seek the king. +This is the very ecstasy of love, +Whose violent property fordoes itself +And leads the will to desperate undertakings +As oft as any passion under heaven +That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. +What, have you given him any hard words of late? + +OPHELIA +No, my good lord, but, as you did command, +I did repel his fetters and denied +His access to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +That hath made him mad. +I am sorry that with better heed and judgment +I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle, +And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! +By heaven, it is as proper to our age +To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions +As it is common for the younger sort +To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: +This must be known; which, being kept close, might +move +More grief to hide than hate to utter love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! +Moreover that we much did long to see you, +The need we have to use you did provoke +Our hasty sending. Something have you heard +Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it, +Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man +Resembles that it was. What it should be, +More than his father's death, that thus hath put him +So much from the understanding of himself, +I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, +That, being of so young days brought up with him, +And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior, +That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court +Some little time: so by your companies +To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, +So much as from occasion you may glean, +Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, +That, open'd, lies within our remedy. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; +And sure I am two men there are not living +To whom he more adheres. If it will please you +To show us so much gentry and good will +As to expend your time with us awhile, +For the supply and profit of our hope, +Your visitation shall receive such thanks +As fits a king's remembrance. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Both your majesties +Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, +Put your dread pleasures more into command +Than to entreaty. + +GUILDENSTERN +But we both obey, +And here give up ourselves, in the full bent +To lay our service freely at your feet, +To be commanded. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz: +And I beseech you instantly to visit +My too much changed son. Go, some of you, +And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. + +GUILDENSTERN +Heavens make our presence and our practises +Pleasant and helpful to him! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay, amen! + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, +Are joyfully return'd. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thou still hast been the father of good news. + +LORD POLONIUS +Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege, +I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, +Both to my God and to my gracious king: +And I do think, or else this brain of mine +Hunts not the trail of policy so sure +As it hath used to do, that I have found +The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. + +LORD POLONIUS +Give first admittance to the ambassadors; +My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. + +Exit POLONIUS + +He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found +The head and source of all your son's distemper. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I doubt it is no other but the main; +His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Well, we shall sift him. + +Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +Welcome, my good friends! +Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway? + +VOLTIMAND +Most fair return of greetings and desires. +Upon our first, he sent out to suppress +His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd +To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; +But, better look'd into, he truly found +It was against your highness: whereat grieved, +That so his sickness, age and impotence +Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests +On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; +Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine +Makes vow before his uncle never more +To give the assay of arms against your majesty. +Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, +Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, +And his commission to employ those soldiers, +So levied as before, against the Polack: +With an entreaty, herein further shown, + +Giving a paper + +That it might please you to give quiet pass +Through your dominions for this enterprise, +On such regards of safety and allowance +As therein are set down. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It likes us well; +And at our more consider'd time well read, +Answer, and think upon this business. +Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour: +Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: +Most welcome home! + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +This business is well ended. +My liege, and madam, to expostulate +What majesty should be, what duty is, +Why day is day, night night, and time is time, +Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. +Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, +And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, +I will be brief: your noble son is mad: +Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, +What is't but to be nothing else but mad? +But let that go. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +More matter, with less art. + +LORD POLONIUS +Madam, I swear I use no art at all. +That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity; +And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure; +But farewell it, for I will use no art. +Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains +That we find out the cause of this effect, +Or rather say, the cause of this defect, +For this effect defective comes by cause: +Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. +I have a daughter--have while she is mine-- +Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, +Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise. + +Reads + +'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most +beautified Ophelia,'-- +That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is +a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus: + +Reads + +'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.' + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Came this from Hamlet to her? + +LORD POLONIUS +Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. + +Reads + +'Doubt thou the stars are fire; +Doubt that the sun doth move; +Doubt truth to be a liar; +But never doubt I love. +'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; +I have not art to reckon my groans: but that +I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. +'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst +this machine is to him, HAMLET.' +This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me, +And more above, hath his solicitings, +As they fell out by time, by means and place, +All given to mine ear. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But how hath she +Received his love? + +LORD POLONIUS +What do you think of me? + +KING CLAUDIUS +As of a man faithful and honourable. + +LORD POLONIUS +I would fain prove so. But what might you think, +When I had seen this hot love on the wing-- +As I perceived it, I must tell you that, +Before my daughter told me--what might you, +Or my dear majesty your queen here, think, +If I had play'd the desk or table-book, +Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, +Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; +What might you think? No, I went round to work, +And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: +'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star; +This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her, +That she should lock herself from his resort, +Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. +Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; +And he, repulsed--a short tale to make-- +Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, +Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, +Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, +Into the madness wherein now he raves, +And all we mourn for. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Do you think 'tis this? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +It may be, very likely. + +LORD POLONIUS +Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that-- +That I have positively said 'Tis so,' +When it proved otherwise? + +KING CLAUDIUS +Not that I know. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Pointing to his head and shoulder] +Take this from this, if this be otherwise: +If circumstances lead me, I will find +Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed +Within the centre. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How may we try it further? + +LORD POLONIUS +You know, sometimes he walks four hours together +Here in the lobby. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +So he does indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: +Be you and I behind an arras then; +Mark the encounter: if he love her not +And be not from his reason fall'n thereon, +Let me be no assistant for a state, +But keep a farm and carters. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We will try it. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. + +LORD POLONIUS +Away, I do beseech you, both away: +I'll board him presently. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and Attendants + +Enter HAMLET, reading + +O, give me leave: +How does my good Lord Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Well, God-a-mercy. + +LORD POLONIUS +Do you know me, my lord? + +HAMLET +Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. + +LORD POLONIUS +Not I, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then I would you were so honest a man. + +LORD POLONIUS +Honest, my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be +one man picked out of ten thousand. + +LORD POLONIUS +That's very true, my lord. + +HAMLET +For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a +god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter? + +LORD POLONIUS +I have, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a +blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive. +Friend, look to 't. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my +daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I +was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and +truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for +love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. +What do you read, my lord? + +HAMLET +Words, words, words. + +LORD POLONIUS +What is the matter, my lord? + +HAMLET +Between who? + +LORD POLONIUS +I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. + +HAMLET +Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here +that old men have grey beards, that their faces are +wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and +plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of +wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, +though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet +I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for +yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab +you could go backward. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method +in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord? + +HAMLET +Into my grave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Indeed, that is out o' the air. + +Aside + +How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness +that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity +could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will +leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of +meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable +lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. + +HAMLET +You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will +more willingly part withal: except my life, except +my life, except my life. + +LORD POLONIUS +Fare you well, my lord. + +HAMLET +These tedious old fools! + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +LORD POLONIUS +You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. + +ROSENCRANTZ +[To POLONIUS] God save you, sir! + +Exit POLONIUS + +GUILDENSTERN +My honoured lord! + +ROSENCRANTZ +My most dear lord! + +HAMLET +My excellent good friends! How dost thou, +Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? + +ROSENCRANTZ +As the indifferent children of the earth. + +GUILDENSTERN +Happy, in that we are not over-happy; +On fortune's cap we are not the very button. + +HAMLET +Nor the soles of her shoe? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Neither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of +her favours? + +GUILDENSTERN +'Faith, her privates we. + +HAMLET +In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she +is a strumpet. What's the news? + +ROSENCRANTZ +None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest. + +HAMLET +Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true. +Let me question more in particular: what have you, +my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, +that she sends you to prison hither? + +GUILDENSTERN +Prison, my lord! + +HAMLET +Denmark's a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then is the world one. + +HAMLET +A goodly one; in which there are many confines, +wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We think not so, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing +either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me +it is a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too +narrow for your mind. + +HAMLET +O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count +myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I +have bad dreams. + +GUILDENSTERN +Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very +substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. + +HAMLET +A dream itself is but a shadow. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a +quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. + +HAMLET +Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and +outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we +to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We'll wait upon you. + +HAMLET +No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest +of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest +man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the +beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. + +HAMLET +Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I +thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are +too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it +your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, +deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +What should we say, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent +for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks +which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: +I know the good king and queen have sent for you. + +ROSENCRANTZ +To what end, my lord? + +HAMLET +That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by +the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of +our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved +love, and by what more dear a better proposer could +charge you withal, be even and direct with me, +whether you were sent for, or no? + +ROSENCRANTZ +[Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you? + +HAMLET +[Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you +love me, hold not off. + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, we were sent for. + +HAMLET +I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation +prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king +and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but +wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all +custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily +with my disposition that this goodly frame, the +earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most +excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave +o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted +with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to +me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. +What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! +how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how +express and admirable! in action how like an angel! +in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the +world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, +what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not +me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling +you seem to say so. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. + +HAMLET +Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what +lenten entertainment the players shall receive from +you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they +coming, to offer you service. + +HAMLET +He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty +shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight +shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not +sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part +in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose +lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall +say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt +for't. What players are they? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Even those you were wont to take delight in, the +tragedians of the city. + +HAMLET +How chances it they travel? their residence, both +in reputation and profit, was better both ways. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I think their inhibition comes by the means of the +late innovation. + +HAMLET +Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was +in the city? are they so followed? + +ROSENCRANTZ +No, indeed, are they not. + +HAMLET +How comes it? do they grow rusty? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but +there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, +that cry out on the top of question, and are most +tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the +fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they +call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of +goose-quills and dare scarce come thither. + +HAMLET +What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are +they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no +longer than they can sing? will they not say +afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common +players--as it is most like, if their means are no +better--their writers do them wrong, to make them +exclaim against their own succession? + +ROSENCRANTZ +'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and +the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to +controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid +for argument, unless the poet and the player went to +cuffs in the question. + +HAMLET +Is't possible? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, there has been much throwing about of brains. + +HAMLET +Do the boys carry it away? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too. + +HAMLET +It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of +Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while +my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an +hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little. +'Sblood, there is something in this more than +natural, if philosophy could find it out. + +Flourish of trumpets within + +GUILDENSTERN +There are the players. + +HAMLET +Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, +come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion +and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb, +lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, +must show fairly outward, should more appear like +entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my +uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. + +GUILDENSTERN +In what, my dear lord? + +HAMLET +I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is +southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +Well be with you, gentlemen! + +HAMLET +Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a +hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet +out of his swaddling-clouts. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Happily he's the second time come to them; for they +say an old man is twice a child. + +HAMLET +I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; +mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; +'twas so indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I have news to tell you. + +HAMLET +My lord, I have news to tell you. +When Roscius was an actor in Rome,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The actors are come hither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Buz, buz! + +LORD POLONIUS +Upon mine honour,-- + +HAMLET +Then came each actor on his ass,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, +comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, +historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical- +comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or +poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor +Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the +liberty, these are the only men. + +HAMLET +O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! + +LORD POLONIUS +What a treasure had he, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'One fair daughter and no more, +The which he loved passing well.' + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Still on my daughter. + +HAMLET +Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah? + +LORD POLONIUS +If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter +that I love passing well. + +HAMLET +Nay, that follows not. + +LORD POLONIUS +What follows, then, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'As by lot, God wot,' +and then, you know, +'It came to pass, as most like it was,'-- +the first row of the pious chanson will show you +more; for look, where my abridgement comes. + +Enter four or five Players + +You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad +to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old +friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last: +comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young +lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is +nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the +altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like +apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the +ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en +to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see: +we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste +of your quality; come, a passionate speech. + +First Player +What speech, my lord? + +HAMLET +I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was +never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the +play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas +caviare to the general: but it was--as I received +it, and others, whose judgments in such matters +cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well +digested in the scenes, set down with as much +modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there +were no sallets in the lines to make the matter +savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might +indict the author of affectation; but called it an +honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very +much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I +chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and +thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of +Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin +at this line: let me see, let me see-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'-- +it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, +Black as his purpose, did the night resemble +When he lay couched in the ominous horse, +Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd +With heraldry more dismal; head to foot +Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd +With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, +Baked and impasted with the parching streets, +That lend a tyrannous and damned light +To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire, +And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore, +With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus +Old grandsire Priam seeks.' +So, proceed you. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and +good discretion. + +First Player +'Anon he finds him +Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, +Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, +Repugnant to command: unequal match'd, +Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; +But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword +The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, +Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top +Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash +Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword, +Which was declining on the milky head +Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: +So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, +And like a neutral to his will and matter, +Did nothing. +But, as we often see, against some storm, +A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, +The bold winds speechless and the orb below +As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder +Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause, +Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work; +And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall +On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne +With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword +Now falls on Priam. +Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, +In general synod 'take away her power; +Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, +And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, +As low as to the fiends!' + +LORD POLONIUS +This is too long. + +HAMLET +It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee, +say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he +sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba. + +First Player +'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--' + +HAMLET +'The mobled queen?' + +LORD POLONIUS +That's good; 'mobled queen' is good. + +First Player +'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames +With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head +Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, +About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins, +A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; +Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, +'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have +pronounced: +But if the gods themselves did see her then +When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport +In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, +The instant burst of clamour that she made, +Unless things mortal move them not at all, +Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, +And passion in the gods.' + +LORD POLONIUS +Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has +tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more. + +HAMLET +'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. +Good my lord, will you see the players well +bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for +they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the +time: after your death you were better have a bad +epitaph than their ill report while you live. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I will use them according to their desert. + +HAMLET +God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man +after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? +Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less +they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. +Take them in. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, sirs. + +HAMLET +Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. + +Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First + +Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the +Murder of Gonzago? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, +study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which +I would set down and insert in't, could you not? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him +not. + +Exit First Player + +My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are +welcome to Elsinore. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, so, God be wi' ye; + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Now I am alone. +O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! +Is it not monstrous that this player here, +But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, +Could force his soul so to his own conceit +That from her working all his visage wann'd, +Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, +A broken voice, and his whole function suiting +With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! +For Hecuba! +What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, +That he should weep for her? What would he do, +Had he the motive and the cue for passion +That I have? He would drown the stage with tears +And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, +Make mad the guilty and appal the free, +Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed +The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, +A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, +Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, +And can say nothing; no, not for a king, +Upon whose property and most dear life +A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? +Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? +Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? +Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, +As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? +Ha! +'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be +But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall +To make oppression bitter, or ere this +I should have fatted all the region kites +With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain! +Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! +O, vengeance! +Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, +That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, +Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, +Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, +And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, +A scullion! +Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard +That guilty creatures sitting at a play +Have by the very cunning of the scene +Been struck so to the soul that presently +They have proclaim'd their malefactions; +For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak +With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players +Play something like the murder of my father +Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks; +I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, +I know my course. The spirit that I have seen +May be the devil: and the devil hath power +To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps +Out of my weakness and my melancholy, +As he is very potent with such spirits, +Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds +More relative than this: the play 's the thing +Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +And can you, by no drift of circumstance, +Get from him why he puts on this confusion, +Grating so harshly all his days of quiet +With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? + +ROSENCRANTZ +He does confess he feels himself distracted; +But from what cause he will by no means speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, +But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, +When we would bring him on to some confession +Of his true state. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did he receive you well? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Most like a gentleman. + +GUILDENSTERN +But with much forcing of his disposition. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Niggard of question; but, of our demands, +Most free in his reply. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did you assay him? +To any pastime? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Madam, it so fell out, that certain players +We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him; +And there did seem in him a kind of joy +To hear of it: they are about the court, +And, as I think, they have already order +This night to play before him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Tis most true: +And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties +To hear and see the matter. + +KING CLAUDIUS +With all my heart; and it doth much content me +To hear him so inclined. +Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, +And drive his purpose on to these delights. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We shall, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; +For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, +That he, as 'twere by accident, may here +Affront Ophelia: +Her father and myself, lawful espials, +Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen, +We may of their encounter frankly judge, +And gather by him, as he is behaved, +If 't be the affliction of his love or no +That thus he suffers for. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I shall obey you. +And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish +That your good beauties be the happy cause +Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues +Will bring him to his wonted way again, +To both your honours. + +OPHELIA +Madam, I wish it may. + +Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE + +LORD POLONIUS +Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you, +We will bestow ourselves. + +To OPHELIA + +Read on this book; +That show of such an exercise may colour +Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,-- +'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage +And pious action we do sugar o'er +The devil himself. + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Aside] O, 'tis too true! +How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! +The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, +Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it +Than is my deed to my most painted word: +O heavy burthen! + +LORD POLONIUS +I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +To be, or not to be: that is the question: +Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer +The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, +Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, +And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; +No more; and by a sleep to say we end +The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks +That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation +Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; +To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; +For in that sleep of death what dreams may come +When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, +Must give us pause: there's the respect +That makes calamity of so long life; +For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, +The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, +The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, +The insolence of office and the spurns +That patient merit of the unworthy takes, +When he himself might his quietus make +With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, +To grunt and sweat under a weary life, +But that the dread of something after death, +The undiscover'd country from whose bourn +No traveller returns, puzzles the will +And makes us rather bear those ills we have +Than fly to others that we know not of? +Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; +And thus the native hue of resolution +Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, +And enterprises of great pith and moment +With this regard their currents turn awry, +And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! +The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons +Be all my sins remember'd. + +OPHELIA +Good my lord, +How does your honour for this many a day? + +HAMLET +I humbly thank you; well, well, well. + +OPHELIA +My lord, I have remembrances of yours, +That I have longed long to re-deliver; +I pray you, now receive them. + +HAMLET +No, not I; +I never gave you aught. + +OPHELIA +My honour'd lord, you know right well you did; +And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed +As made the things more rich: their perfume lost, +Take these again; for to the noble mind +Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. +There, my lord. + +HAMLET +Ha, ha! are you honest? + +OPHELIA +My lord? + +HAMLET +Are you fair? + +OPHELIA +What means your lordship? + +HAMLET +That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should +admit no discourse to your beauty. + +OPHELIA +Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than +with honesty? + +HAMLET +Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner +transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the +force of honesty can translate beauty into his +likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the +time gives it proof. I did love you once. + +OPHELIA +Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + +HAMLET +You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot +so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of +it: I loved you not. + +OPHELIA +I was the more deceived. + +HAMLET +Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a +breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; +but yet I could accuse me of such things that it +were better my mother had not borne me: I am very +proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at +my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, +imagination to give them shape, or time to act them +in. What should such fellows as I do crawling +between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, +all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. +Where's your father? + +OPHELIA +At home, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the +fool no where but in's own house. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O, help him, you sweet heavens! + +HAMLET +If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for +thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as +snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a +nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs +marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough +what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, +and quickly too. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O heavenly powers, restore him! + +HAMLET +I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God +has given you one face, and you make yourselves +another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and +nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness +your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath +made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: +those that are married already, all but one, shall +live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a +nunnery, go. + +Exit + +OPHELIA +O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! +The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; +The expectancy and rose of the fair state, +The glass of fashion and the mould of form, +The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! +And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, +That suck'd the honey of his music vows, +Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, +Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; +That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth +Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me, +To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! + +Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +KING CLAUDIUS +Love! his affections do not that way tend; +Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, +Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, +O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; +And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose +Will be some danger: which for to prevent, +I have in quick determination +Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England, +For the demand of our neglected tribute +Haply the seas and countries different +With variable objects shall expel +This something-settled matter in his heart, +Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus +From fashion of himself. What think you on't? + +LORD POLONIUS +It shall do well: but yet do I believe +The origin and commencement of his grief +Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia! +You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; +We heard it all. My lord, do as you please; +But, if you hold it fit, after the play +Let his queen mother all alone entreat him +To show his grief: let her be round with him; +And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear +Of all their conference. If she find him not, +To England send him, or confine him where +Your wisdom best shall think. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It shall be so: +Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A hall in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET and Players +HAMLET +Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to +you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, +as many of your players do, I had as lief the +town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air +too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; +for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, +the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget +a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it +offends me to the soul to hear a robustious +periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to +very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who +for the most part are capable of nothing but +inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such +a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it +out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. + +First Player +I warrant your honour. + +HAMLET +Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion +be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the +word to the action; with this special o'erstep not +the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is +from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the +first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the +mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, +scorn her own image, and the very age and body of +the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, +or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful +laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the +censure of the which one must in your allowance +o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be +players that I have seen play, and heard others +praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, +that, neither having the accent of Christians nor +the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so +strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of +nature's journeymen had made men and not made them +well, they imitated humanity so abominably. + +First Player +I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, +sir. + +HAMLET +O, reform it altogether. And let those that play +your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; +for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to +set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh +too; though, in the mean time, some necessary +question of the play be then to be considered: +that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition +in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready. + +Exeunt Players + +Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN + +How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work? + +LORD POLONIUS +And the queen too, and that presently. + +HAMLET +Bid the players make haste. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Will you two help to hasten them? + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +HAMLET +What ho! Horatio! + +Enter HORATIO + +HORATIO +Here, sweet lord, at your service. + +HAMLET +Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man +As e'er my conversation coped withal. + +HORATIO +O, my dear lord,-- + +HAMLET +Nay, do not think I flatter; +For what advancement may I hope from thee +That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, +To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? +No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, +And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee +Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? +Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice +And could of men distinguish, her election +Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been +As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, +A man that fortune's buffets and rewards +Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those +Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, +That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger +To sound what stop she please. Give me that man +That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him +In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, +As I do thee.--Something too much of this.-- +There is a play to-night before the king; +One scene of it comes near the circumstance +Which I have told thee of my father's death: +I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, +Even with the very comment of thy soul +Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt +Do not itself unkennel in one speech, +It is a damned ghost that we have seen, +And my imaginations are as foul +As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; +For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, +And after we will both our judgments join +In censure of his seeming. + +HORATIO +Well, my lord: +If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, +And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. + +HAMLET +They are coming to the play; I must be idle: +Get you a place. + +Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +KING CLAUDIUS +How fares our cousin Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat +the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so. + +KING CLAUDIUS +I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words +are not mine. + +HAMLET +No, nor mine now. + +To POLONIUS + +My lord, you played once i' the university, you say? + +LORD POLONIUS +That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor. + +HAMLET +What did you enact? + +LORD POLONIUS +I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the +Capitol; Brutus killed me. + +HAMLET +It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf +there. Be the players ready? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. + +HAMLET +No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. + +LORD POLONIUS +[To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that? + +HAMLET +Lady, shall I lie in your lap? + +Lying down at OPHELIA's feet + +OPHELIA +No, my lord. + +HAMLET +I mean, my head upon your lap? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Do you think I meant country matters? + +OPHELIA +I think nothing, my lord. + +HAMLET +That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. + +OPHELIA +What is, my lord? + +HAMLET +Nothing. + +OPHELIA +You are merry, my lord. + +HAMLET +Who, I? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do +but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my +mother looks, and my father died within these two hours. + +OPHELIA +Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. + +HAMLET +So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for +I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two +months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's +hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half +a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches, +then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with +the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O, +the hobby-horse is forgot.' + +Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters + +Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love + +Exeunt + +OPHELIA +What means this, my lord? + +HAMLET +Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. + +OPHELIA +Belike this show imports the argument of the play. + +Enter Prologue + +HAMLET +We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot +keep counsel; they'll tell all. + +OPHELIA +Will he tell us what this show meant? + +HAMLET +Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you +ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. + +OPHELIA +You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play. + +Prologue +For us, and for our tragedy, +Here stooping to your clemency, +We beg your hearing patiently. + +Exit + +HAMLET +Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? + +OPHELIA +'Tis brief, my lord. + +HAMLET +As woman's love. + +Enter two Players, King and Queen + +Player King +Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round +Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, +And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen +About the world have times twelve thirties been, +Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands +Unite commutual in most sacred bands. + +Player Queen +So many journeys may the sun and moon +Make us again count o'er ere love be done! +But, woe is me, you are so sick of late, +So far from cheer and from your former state, +That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, +Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must: +For women's fear and love holds quantity; +In neither aught, or in extremity. +Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; +And as my love is sized, my fear is so: +Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; +Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. + +Player King +'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; +My operant powers their functions leave to do: +And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, +Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind +For husband shalt thou-- + +Player Queen +O, confound the rest! +Such love must needs be treason in my breast: +In second husband let me be accurst! +None wed the second but who kill'd the first. + +HAMLET +[Aside] Wormwood, wormwood. + +Player Queen +The instances that second marriage move +Are base respects of thrift, but none of love: +A second time I kill my husband dead, +When second husband kisses me in bed. + +Player King +I do believe you think what now you speak; +But what we do determine oft we break. +Purpose is but the slave to memory, +Of violent birth, but poor validity; +Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; +But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. +Most necessary 'tis that we forget +To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt: +What to ourselves in passion we propose, +The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. +The violence of either grief or joy +Their own enactures with themselves destroy: +Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; +Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. +This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange +That even our loves should with our fortunes change; +For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, +Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. +The great man down, you mark his favourite flies; +The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. +And hitherto doth love on fortune tend; +For who not needs shall never lack a friend, +And who in want a hollow friend doth try, +Directly seasons him his enemy. +But, orderly to end where I begun, +Our wills and fates do so contrary run +That our devices still are overthrown; +Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: +So think thou wilt no second husband wed; +But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. + +Player Queen +Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! +Sport and repose lock from me day and night! +To desperation turn my trust and hope! +An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope! +Each opposite that blanks the face of joy +Meet what I would have well and it destroy! +Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, +If, once a widow, ever I be wife! + +HAMLET +If she should break it now! + +Player King +'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile; +My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile +The tedious day with sleep. + +Sleeps + +Player Queen +Sleep rock thy brain, +And never come mischance between us twain! + +Exit + +HAMLET +Madam, how like you this play? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +The lady protests too much, methinks. + +HAMLET +O, but she'll keep her word. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't? + +HAMLET +No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence +i' the world. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What do you call the play? + +HAMLET +The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play +is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is +the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see +anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o' +that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it +touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our +withers are unwrung. + +Enter LUCIANUS + +This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. + +OPHELIA +You are as good as a chorus, my lord. + +HAMLET +I could interpret between you and your love, if I +could see the puppets dallying. + +OPHELIA +You are keen, my lord, you are keen. + +HAMLET +It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. + +OPHELIA +Still better, and worse. + +HAMLET +So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer; +pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come: +'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' + +LUCIANUS +Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; +Confederate season, else no creature seeing; +Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, +With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, +Thy natural magic and dire property, +On wholesome life usurp immediately. + +Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears + +HAMLET +He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His +name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in +choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer +gets the love of Gonzago's wife. + +OPHELIA +The king rises. + +HAMLET +What, frighted with false fire! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +How fares my lord? + +LORD POLONIUS +Give o'er the play. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Give me some light: away! + +All +Lights, lights, lights! + +Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO + +HAMLET +Why, let the stricken deer go weep, +The hart ungalled play; +For some must watch, while some must sleep: +So runs the world away. +Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if +the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two +Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a +fellowship in a cry of players, sir? + +HORATIO +Half a share. + +HAMLET +A whole one, I. +For thou dost know, O Damon dear, +This realm dismantled was +Of Jove himself; and now reigns here +A very, very--pajock. + +HORATIO +You might have rhymed. + +HAMLET +O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a +thousand pound. Didst perceive? + +HORATIO +Very well, my lord. + +HAMLET +Upon the talk of the poisoning? + +HORATIO +I did very well note him. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders! +For if the king like not the comedy, +Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. +Come, some music! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. + +HAMLET +Sir, a whole history. + +GUILDENSTERN +The king, sir,-- + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, what of him? + +GUILDENSTERN +Is in his retirement marvellous distempered. + +HAMLET +With drink, sir? + +GUILDENSTERN +No, my lord, rather with choler. + +HAMLET +Your wisdom should show itself more richer to +signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him +to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far +more choler. + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and +start not so wildly from my affair. + +HAMLET +I am tame, sir: pronounce. + +GUILDENSTERN +The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of +spirit, hath sent me to you. + +HAMLET +You are welcome. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right +breed. If it shall please you to make me a +wholesome answer, I will do your mother's +commandment: if not, your pardon and my return +shall be the end of my business. + +HAMLET +Sir, I cannot. + +GUILDENSTERN +What, my lord? + +HAMLET +Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but, +sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; +or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no +more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,-- + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her +into amazement and admiration. + +HAMLET +O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But +is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's +admiration? Impart. + +ROSENCRANTZ +She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you +go to bed. + +HAMLET +We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have +you any further trade with us? + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you once did love me. + +HAMLET +So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you +do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if +you deny your griefs to your friend. + +HAMLET +Sir, I lack advancement. + +ROSENCRANTZ +How can that be, when you have the voice of the king +himself for your succession in Denmark? + +HAMLET +Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb +is something musty. + +Re-enter Players with recorders + +O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with +you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me, +as if you would drive me into a toil? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too +unmannerly. + +HAMLET +I do not well understand that. Will you play upon +this pipe? + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I pray you. + +GUILDENSTERN +Believe me, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I do beseech you. + +GUILDENSTERN +I know no touch of it, my lord. + +HAMLET +'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with +your lingers and thumb, give it breath with your +mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. +Look you, these are the stops. + +GUILDENSTERN +But these cannot I command to any utterance of +harmony; I have not the skill. + +HAMLET +Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of +me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know +my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my +mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to +the top of my compass: and there is much music, +excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot +you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am +easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what +instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you +cannot play upon me. + +Enter POLONIUS + +God bless you, sir! + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, the queen would speak with you, and +presently. + +HAMLET +Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? + +LORD POLONIUS +By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. + +HAMLET +Methinks it is like a weasel. + +LORD POLONIUS +It is backed like a weasel. + +HAMLET +Or like a whale? + +LORD POLONIUS +Very like a whale. + +HAMLET +Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool +me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by. + +LORD POLONIUS +I will say so. + +HAMLET +By and by is easily said. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Leave me, friends. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +Tis now the very witching time of night, +When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out +Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, +And do such bitter business as the day +Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother. +O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever +The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom: +Let me be cruel, not unnatural: +I will speak daggers to her, but use none; +My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites; +How in my words soever she be shent, +To give them seals never, my soul, consent! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +I like him not, nor stands it safe with us +To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; +I your commission will forthwith dispatch, +And he to England shall along with you: +The terms of our estate may not endure +Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow +Out of his lunacies. + +GUILDENSTERN +We will ourselves provide: +Most holy and religious fear it is +To keep those many many bodies safe +That live and feed upon your majesty. + +ROSENCRANTZ +The single and peculiar life is bound, +With all the strength and armour of the mind, +To keep itself from noyance; but much more +That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest +The lives of many. The cease of majesty +Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw +What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel, +Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, +To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things +Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, +Each small annexment, petty consequence, +Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone +Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; +For we will fetters put upon this fear, +Which now goes too free-footed. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will haste us. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, he's going to his mother's closet: +Behind the arras I'll convey myself, +To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home: +And, as you said, and wisely was it said, +'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, +Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear +The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege: +I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, +And tell you what I know. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, dear my lord. + +Exit POLONIUS + +O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven; +It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, +A brother's murder. Pray can I not, +Though inclination be as sharp as will: +My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; +And, like a man to double business bound, +I stand in pause where I shall first begin, +And both neglect. What if this cursed hand +Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, +Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens +To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy +But to confront the visage of offence? +And what's in prayer but this two-fold force, +To be forestalled ere we come to fall, +Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up; +My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer +Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'? +That cannot be; since I am still possess'd +Of those effects for which I did the murder, +My crown, mine own ambition and my queen. +May one be pardon'd and retain the offence? +In the corrupted currents of this world +Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, +And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself +Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; +There is no shuffling, there the action lies +In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd, +Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, +To give in evidence. What then? what rests? +Try what repentance can: what can it not? +Yet what can it when one can not repent? +O wretched state! O bosom black as death! +O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, +Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! +Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, +Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe! +All may be well. + +Retires and kneels + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now might I do it pat, now he is praying; +And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven; +And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd: +A villain kills my father; and for that, +I, his sole son, do this same villain send +To heaven. +O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. +He took my father grossly, full of bread; +With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; +And how his audit stands who knows save heaven? +But in our circumstance and course of thought, +'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged, +To take him in the purging of his soul, +When he is fit and season'd for his passage? +No! +Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent: +When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, +Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed; +At gaming, swearing, or about some act +That has no relish of salvation in't; +Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, +And that his soul may be as damn'd and black +As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays: +This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: +Words without thoughts never to heaven go. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The Queen's closet. + +Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS +LORD POLONIUS +He will come straight. Look you lay home to him: +Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, +And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between +Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here. +Pray you, be round with him. + +HAMLET +[Within] Mother, mother, mother! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I'll warrant you, +Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming. + +POLONIUS hides behind the arras + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now, mother, what's the matter? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. + +HAMLET +Mother, you have my father much offended. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. + +HAMLET +Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Why, how now, Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What's the matter now? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Have you forgot me? + +HAMLET +No, by the rood, not so: +You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; +And--would it were not so!--you are my mother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. + +HAMLET +Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge; +You go not till I set you up a glass +Where you may see the inmost part of you. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me? +Help, help, ho! + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help! + +HAMLET +[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! + +Makes a pass through the arras + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] O, I am slain! + +Falls and dies + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O me, what hast thou done? + +HAMLET +Nay, I know not: +Is it the king? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! + +HAMLET +A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, +As kill a king, and marry with his brother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +As kill a king! + +HAMLET +Ay, lady, 'twas my word. + +Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS + +Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! +I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune; +Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. +Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down, +And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, +If it be made of penetrable stuff, +If damned custom have not brass'd it so +That it is proof and bulwark against sense. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue +In noise so rude against me? + +HAMLET +Such an act +That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, +Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose +From the fair forehead of an innocent love +And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows +As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed +As from the body of contraction plucks +The very soul, and sweet religion makes +A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: +Yea, this solidity and compound mass, +With tristful visage, as against the doom, +Is thought-sick at the act. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay me, what act, +That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? + +HAMLET +Look here, upon this picture, and on this, +The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. +See, what a grace was seated on this brow; +Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; +An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; +A station like the herald Mercury +New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; +A combination and a form indeed, +Where every god did seem to set his seal, +To give the world assurance of a man: +This was your husband. Look you now, what follows: +Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear, +Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? +Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, +And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? +You cannot call it love; for at your age +The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, +And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment +Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, +Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense +Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err, +Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd +But it reserved some quantity of choice, +To serve in such a difference. What devil was't +That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind? +Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, +Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, +Or but a sickly part of one true sense +Could not so mope. +O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, +If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, +To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, +And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame +When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, +Since frost itself as actively doth burn +And reason panders will. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, speak no more: +Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; +And there I see such black and grained spots +As will not leave their tinct. + +HAMLET +Nay, but to live +In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, +Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love +Over the nasty sty,-- + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, speak to me no more; +These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; +No more, sweet Hamlet! + +HAMLET +A murderer and a villain; +A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe +Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; +A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, +That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, +And put it in his pocket! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No more! + +HAMLET +A king of shreds and patches,-- + +Enter Ghost + +Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, +You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, he's mad! + +HAMLET +Do you not come your tardy son to chide, +That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by +The important acting of your dread command? O, say! + +Ghost +Do not forget: this visitation +Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. +But, look, amazement on thy mother sits: +O, step between her and her fighting soul: +Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works: +Speak to her, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +How is it with you, lady? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, how is't with you, +That you do bend your eye on vacancy +And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? +Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; +And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, +Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, +Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, +Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper +Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? + +HAMLET +On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares! +His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, +Would make them capable. Do not look upon me; +Lest with this piteous action you convert +My stern effects: then what I have to do +Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To whom do you speak this? + +HAMLET +Do you see nothing there? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. + +HAMLET +Nor did you nothing hear? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No, nothing but ourselves. + +HAMLET +Why, look you there! look, how it steals away! +My father, in his habit as he lived! +Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! + +Exit Ghost + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +This the very coinage of your brain: +This bodiless creation ecstasy +Is very cunning in. + +HAMLET +Ecstasy! +My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, +And makes as healthful music: it is not madness +That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, +And I the matter will re-word; which madness +Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, +Lay not that mattering unction to your soul, +That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: +It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, +Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, +Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; +Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; +And do not spread the compost on the weeds, +To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; +For in the fatness of these pursy times +Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, +Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. + +HAMLET +O, throw away the worser part of it, +And live the purer with the other half. +Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; +Assume a virtue, if you have it not. +That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, +Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, +That to the use of actions fair and good +He likewise gives a frock or livery, +That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night, +And that shall lend a kind of easiness +To the next abstinence: the next more easy; +For use almost can change the stamp of nature, +And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out +With wondrous potency. Once more, good night: +And when you are desirous to be bless'd, +I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, + +Pointing to POLONIUS + +I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, +To punish me with this and this with me, +That I must be their scourge and minister. +I will bestow him, and will answer well +The death I gave him. So, again, good night. +I must be cruel, only to be kind: +Thus bad begins and worse remains behind. +One word more, good lady. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What shall I do? + +HAMLET +Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: +Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; +Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; +And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, +Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, +Make you to ravel all this matter out, +That I essentially am not in madness, +But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; +For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, +Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, +Such dear concernings hide? who would do so? +No, in despite of sense and secrecy, +Unpeg the basket on the house's top. +Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, +To try conclusions, in the basket creep, +And break your own neck down. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, +And breath of life, I have no life to breathe +What thou hast said to me. + +HAMLET +I must to England; you know that? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alack, +I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. + +HAMLET +There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows, +Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, +They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, +And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; +For 'tis the sport to have the engineer +Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard +But I will delve one yard below their mines, +And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet, +When in one line two crafts directly meet. +This man shall set me packing: +I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. +Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor +Is now most still, most secret and most grave, +Who was in life a foolish prating knave. +Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. +Good night, mother. + +Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves: +You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them. +Where is your son? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Bestow this place on us a little while. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! + +KING CLAUDIUS +What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend +Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit, +Behind the arras hearing something stir, +Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!' +And, in this brainish apprehension, kills +The unseen good old man. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O heavy deed! +It had been so with us, had we been there: +His liberty is full of threats to all; +To you yourself, to us, to every one. +Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? +It will be laid to us, whose providence +Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt, +This mad young man: but so much was our love, +We would not understand what was most fit; +But, like the owner of a foul disease, +To keep it from divulging, let it feed +Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: +O'er whom his very madness, like some ore +Among a mineral of metals base, +Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O Gertrude, come away! +The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, +But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed +We must, with all our majesty and skill, +Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Friends both, go join you with some further aid: +Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, +And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him: +Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body +Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends; +And let them know, both what we mean to do, +And what's untimely done. O, come away! +My soul is full of discord and dismay. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another room in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET +HAMLET +Safely stowed. + +ROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN: +[Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What noise? who calls on Hamlet? +O, here they come. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +ROSENCRANTZ +What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? + +HAMLET +Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence +And bear it to the chapel. + +HAMLET +Do not believe it. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Believe what? + +HAMLET +That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. +Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what +replication should be made by the son of a king? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Take you me for a sponge, my lord? + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his +rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the +king best service in the end: he keeps them, like +an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to +be last swallowed: when he needs what you have +gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you +shall be dry again. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I understand you not, my lord. + +HAMLET +I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a +foolish ear. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go +with us to the king. + +HAMLET +The body is with the king, but the king is not with +the body. The king is a thing-- + +GUILDENSTERN +A thing, my lord! + +HAMLET +Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Another room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, attended +KING CLAUDIUS +I have sent to seek him, and to find the body. +How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! +Yet must not we put the strong law on him: +He's loved of the distracted multitude, +Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; +And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd, +But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even, +This sudden sending him away must seem +Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown +By desperate appliance are relieved, +Or not at all. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ + +How now! what hath befall'n? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, +We cannot get from him. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But where is he? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Bring him before us. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord. + +Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? + +HAMLET +At supper. + +KING CLAUDIUS +At supper! where? + +HAMLET +Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain +convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your +worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all +creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for +maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but +variable service, two dishes, but to one table: +that's the end. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Alas, alas! + +HAMLET +A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a +king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What dost you mean by this? + +HAMLET +Nothing but to show you how a king may go a +progress through the guts of a beggar. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Where is Polonius? + +HAMLET +In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger +find him not there, seek him i' the other place +yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within +this month, you shall nose him as you go up the +stairs into the lobby. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Go seek him there. + +To some Attendants + +HAMLET +He will stay till ye come. + +Exeunt Attendants + +KING CLAUDIUS +Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-- +Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve +For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence +With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself; +The bark is ready, and the wind at help, +The associates tend, and every thing is bent +For England. + +HAMLET +For England! + +KING CLAUDIUS +Ay, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +Good. + +KING CLAUDIUS +So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. + +HAMLET +I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for +England! Farewell, dear mother. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thy loving father, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man +and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England! + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard; +Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night: +Away! for every thing is seal'd and done +That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught-- +As my great power thereof may give thee sense, +Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red +After the Danish sword, and thy free awe +Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set +Our sovereign process; which imports at full, +By letters congruing to that effect, +The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; +For like the hectic in my blood he rages, +And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done, +Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark. + +Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; +Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras +Craves the conveyance of a promised march +Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. +If that his majesty would aught with us, +We shall express our duty in his eye; +And let him know so. + +Captain +I will do't, my lord. + +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go softly on. + +Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers + +Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +HAMLET +Good sir, whose powers are these? + +Captain +They are of Norway, sir. + +HAMLET +How purposed, sir, I pray you? + +Captain +Against some part of Poland. + +HAMLET +Who commands them, sir? + +Captain +The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras. + +HAMLET +Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, +Or for some frontier? + +Captain +Truly to speak, and with no addition, +We go to gain a little patch of ground +That hath in it no profit but the name. +To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; +Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole +A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. + +HAMLET +Why, then the Polack never will defend it. + +Captain +Yes, it is already garrison'd. + +HAMLET +Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats +Will not debate the question of this straw: +This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace, +That inward breaks, and shows no cause without +Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir. + +All's Well That Ends Well +Shakespeare homepage | All's Well That Ends Well | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black +COUNTESS +In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. + +BERTRAM +And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death +anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to +whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. + +LAFEU +You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, +sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times +good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose +worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather +than lack it where there is such abundance. + +COUNTESS +What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? + +LAFEU +He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose +practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and +finds no other advantage in the process but only the +losing of hope by time. + +COUNTESS +This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that +'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was +almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so +far, would have made nature immortal, and death +should have play for lack of work. Would, for the +king's sake, he were living! I think it would be +the death of the king's disease. + +LAFEU +How called you the man you speak of, madam? + +COUNTESS +He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was +his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + +LAFEU +He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very +lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he +was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge +could be set up against mortality. + +BERTRAM +What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? + +LAFEU +A fistula, my lord. + +BERTRAM +I heard not of it before. + +LAFEU +I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman +the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + +COUNTESS +His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my +overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that +her education promises; her dispositions she +inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where +an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there +commendations go with pity; they are virtues and +traitors too; in her they are the better for their +simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. + +LAFEU +Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. + +COUNTESS +'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise +in. The remembrance of her father never approaches +her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all +livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; +go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect +a sorrow than have it. + +HELENA +I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + +LAFEU +Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessive grief the enemy to the living. + +COUNTESS +If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess +makes it soon mortal. + +BERTRAM +Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + +LAFEU +How understand we that? + +COUNTESS +Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father +In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue +Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness +Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, +Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy +Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend +Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence, +But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, +That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, +Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; +'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, +Advise him. + +LAFEU +He cannot want the best +That shall attend his love. + +COUNTESS +Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +[To HELENA] The best wishes that can be forged in +your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable +to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. + +LAFEU +Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of +your father. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU + +HELENA +O, were that all! I think not on my father; +And these great tears grace his remembrance more +Than those I shed for him. What was he like? +I have forgot him: my imagination +Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. +I am undone: there is no living, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one +That I should love a bright particular star +And think to wed it, he is so above me: +In his bright radiance and collateral light +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. +The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: +The hind that would be mated by the lion +Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague, +To see him every hour; to sit and draw +His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, +In our heart's table; heart too capable +Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy +Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +Enter PAROLLES + +Aside + +One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; +And yet I know him a notorious liar, +Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; +Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, +That they take place, when virtue's steely bones +Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see +Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + +PAROLLES +Save you, fair queen! + +HELENA +And you, monarch! + +PAROLLES +No. + +HELENA +And no. + +PAROLLES +Are you meditating on virginity? + +HELENA +Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me +ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how +may we barricado it against him? + +PAROLLES +Keep him out. + +HELENA +But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, +in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some +warlike resistance. + +PAROLLES +There is none: man, sitting down before you, will +undermine you and blow you up. + +HELENA +Bless our poor virginity from underminers and +blowers up! Is there no military policy, how +virgins might blow up men? + +PAROLLES +Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be +blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with +the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It +is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to +preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational +increase and there was never virgin got till +virginity was first lost. That you were made of is +metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost +may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is +ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't! + +HELENA +I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. + +PAROLLES +There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the +rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, +is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible +disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: +virginity murders itself and should be buried in +highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate +offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, +much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very +paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. +Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of +self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the +canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose +by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make +itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the +principal itself not much the worse: away with 't! + +HELENA +How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? + +PAROLLES +Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it +likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with +lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't +while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. +Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out +of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just +like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not +now. Your date is better in your pie and your +porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, +your old virginity, is like one of our French +withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, +'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; +marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it? + +HELENA +Not my virginity yet [ ] +There shall your master have a thousand loves, +A mother and a mistress and a friend, +A phoenix, captain and an enemy, +A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, +A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; +His humble ambition, proud humility, +His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, +His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world +Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- +I know not what he shall. God send him well! +The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + +PAROLLES +What one, i' faith? + +HELENA +That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + +PAROLLES +What's pity? + +HELENA +That wishing well had not a body in't, +Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, +Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends, +And show what we alone must think, which never +Return us thanks. + +Enter Page + +Page +Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I +will think of thee at court. + +HELENA +Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. + +PAROLLES +Under Mars, I. + +HELENA +I especially think, under Mars. + +PAROLLES +Why under Mars? + +HELENA +The wars have so kept you under that you must needs +be born under Mars. + +PAROLLES +When he was predominant. + +HELENA +When he was retrograde, I think, rather. + +PAROLLES +Why think you so? + +HELENA +You go so much backward when you fight. + +PAROLLES +That's for advantage. + +HELENA +So is running away, when fear proposes the safety; +but the composition that your valour and fear makes +in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. + +PAROLLES +I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee +acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the +which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize +thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's +counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon +thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and +thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When +thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast +none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, +and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell. + +Exit + +HELENA +Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, +Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky +Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull +Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. +What power is it which mounts my love so high, +That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune nature brings +To join like likes and kiss like native things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose +What hath been cannot be: who ever strove +So show her merit, that did miss her love? +The king's disease--my project may deceive me, +But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and divers Attendants +KING +The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; +Have fought with equal fortune and continue +A braving war. + +First Lord +So 'tis reported, sir. + +KING +Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it +A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, +With caution that the Florentine will move us +For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend +Prejudicates the business and would seem +To have us make denial. + +First Lord +His love and wisdom, +Approved so to your majesty, may plead +For amplest credence. + +KING +He hath arm'd our answer, +And Florence is denied before he comes: +Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see +The Tuscan service, freely have they leave +To stand on either part. + +Second Lord +It well may serve +A nursery to our gentry, who are sick +For breathing and exploit. + +KING +What's he comes here? + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + +First Lord +It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, +Young Bertram. + +KING +Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; +Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, +Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts +Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. + +BERTRAM +My thanks and duty are your majesty's. + +KING +I would I had that corporal soundness now, +As when thy father and myself in friendship +First tried our soldiership! He did look far +Into the service of the time and was +Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; +But on us both did haggish age steal on +And wore us out of act. It much repairs me +To talk of your good father. In his youth +He had the wit which I can well observe +To-day in our young lords; but they may jest +Till their own scorn return to them unnoted +Ere they can hide their levity in honour; +So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness +Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, +His equal had awaked them, and his honour, +Clock to itself, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speak, and at this time +His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him +He used as creatures of another place +And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, +Making them proud of his humility, +In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man +Might be a copy to these younger times; +Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward. + +BERTRAM +His good remembrance, sir, +Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; +So in approof lives not his epitaph +As in your royal speech. + +KING +Would I were with him! He would always say-- +Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words +He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, +To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'-- +This his good melancholy oft began, +On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, +When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he, +'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff +Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses +All but new things disdain; whose judgments are +Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies +Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd; +I after him do after him wish too, +Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, +I quickly were dissolved from my hive, +To give some labourers room. + +Second Lord +You are loved, sir: +They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + +KING +I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, +Since the physician at your father's died? +He was much famed. + +BERTRAM +Some six months since, my lord. + +KING +If he were living, I would try him yet. +Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out +With several applications; nature and sickness +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; +My son's no dearer. + +BERTRAM +Thank your majesty. + +Exeunt. Flourish + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown +COUNTESS +I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? + +Steward +Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I +wish might be found in the calendar of my past +endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make +foul the clearness of our deservings, when of +ourselves we publish them. + +COUNTESS +What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: +the complaints I have heard of you I do not all +believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know +you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability +enough to make such knaveries yours. + +Clown +'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. + +COUNTESS +Well, sir. + +Clown +No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though +many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have +your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel +the woman and I will do as we may. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + +Clown +I do beg your good will in this case. + +COUNTESS +In what case? + +Clown +In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no +heritage: and I think I shall never have the +blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for +they say barnes are blessings. + +COUNTESS +Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + +Clown +My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on +by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. + +COUNTESS +Is this all your worship's reason? + +Clown +Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they +are. + +COUNTESS +May the world know them? + +Clown +I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and +all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry +that I may repent. + +COUNTESS +Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. + +Clown +I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have +friends for my wife's sake. + +COUNTESS +Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + +Clown +You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the +knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. +He that ears my land spares my team and gives me +leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my +drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher +of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh +and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my +flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses +my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to +be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; +for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the +Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in +religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl +horns together, like any deer i' the herd. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? + +Clown +A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next +way: +For I the ballad will repeat, +Which men full true shall find; +Your marriage comes by destiny, +Your cuckoo sings by kind. + +COUNTESS +Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. + +Steward +May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to +you: of her I am to speak. + +COUNTESS +Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; +Helen, I mean. + +Clown +Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, +Why the Grecians sacked Troy? +Fond done, done fond, +Was this King Priam's joy? +With that she sighed as she stood, +With that she sighed as she stood, +And gave this sentence then; +Among nine bad if one be good, +Among nine bad if one be good, +There's yet one good in ten. + +COUNTESS +What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. + +Clown +One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying +o' the song: would God would serve the world so all +the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman, +if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we +might have a good woman born but one every blazing +star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery +well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck +one. + +COUNTESS +You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you. + +Clown +That man should be at woman's command, and yet no +hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it +will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of +humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am +going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +Well, now. + +Steward +I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. + +COUNTESS +Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and +she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully +make title to as much love as she finds: there is +more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid +her than she'll demand. + +Steward +Madam, I was very late more near her than I think +she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate +to herself her own words to her own ears; she +thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any +stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: +Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put +such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no +god, that would not extend his might, only where +qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that +would suffer her poor knight surprised, without +rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. +This she delivered in the most bitter touch of +sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I +held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; +sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns +you something to know it. + +COUNTESS +You have discharged this honestly; keep it to +yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this +before, which hung so tottering in the balance that +I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, +leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you +for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. + +Exit Steward + +Enter HELENA + +Even so it was with me when I was young: +If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn +Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; +Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; +It is the show and seal of nature's truth, +Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: +By our remembrances of days foregone, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. +Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now. + +HELENA +What is your pleasure, madam? + +COUNTESS +You know, Helen, +I am a mother to you. + +HELENA +Mine honourable mistress. + +COUNTESS +Nay, a mother: +Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,' +Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,' +That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; +And put you in the catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen +Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds +A native slip to us from foreign seeds: +You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, +Yet I express to you a mother's care: +God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, +That this distemper'd messenger of wet, +The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? +Why? that you are my daughter? + +HELENA +That I am not. + +COUNTESS +I say, I am your mother. + +HELENA +Pardon, madam; +The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: +I am from humble, he from honour'd name; +No note upon my parents, his all noble: +My master, my dear lord he is; and I +His servant live, and will his vassal die: +He must not be my brother. + +COUNTESS +Nor I your mother? + +HELENA +You are my mother, madam; would you were,-- +So that my lord your son were not my brother,-- +Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for than I do for heaven, +So I were not his sister. Can't no other, +But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + +COUNTESS +Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: +God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother +So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? +My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see +The mystery of your loneliness, and find +Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross +You love my son; invention is ashamed, +Against the proclamation of thy passion, +To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; +But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks +Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes +See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors +That in their kind they speak it: only sin +And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, +That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? +If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; +If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, +As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, +Tell me truly. + +HELENA +Good madam, pardon me! + +COUNTESS +Do you love my son? + +HELENA +Your pardon, noble mistress! + +COUNTESS +Love you my son? + +HELENA +Do not you love him, madam? + +COUNTESS +Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, +Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose +The state of your affection; for your passions +Have to the full appeach'd. + +HELENA +Then, I confess, +Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, +That before you, and next unto high heaven, +I love your son. +My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: +Be not offended; for it hurts not him +That he is loved of me: I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suit; +Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; +Yet never know how that desert should be. +I know I love in vain, strive against hope; +Yet in this captious and intenible sieve +I still pour in the waters of my love +And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, +Religious in mine error, I adore +The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, +But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, +Let not your hate encounter with my love +For loving where you do: but if yourself, +Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, +Did ever in so true a flame of liking +Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian +Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity +To her, whose state is such that cannot choose +But lend and give where she is sure to lose; +That seeks not to find that her search implies, +But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! + +COUNTESS +Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,-- +To go to Paris? + +HELENA +Madam, I had. + +COUNTESS +Wherefore? tell true. + +HELENA +I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. +You know my father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience had collected +For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me +In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them, +As notes whose faculties inclusive were +More than they were in note: amongst the rest, +There is a remedy, approved, set down, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The king is render'd lost. + +COUNTESS +This was your motive +For Paris, was it? speak. + +HELENA +My lord your son made me to think of this; +Else Paris and the medicine and the king +Had from the conversation of my thoughts +Haply been absent then. + +COUNTESS +But think you, Helen, +If you should tender your supposed aid, +He would receive it? he and his physicians +Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, +They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit +A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, +Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off +The danger to itself? + +HELENA +There's something in't, +More than my father's skill, which was the greatest +Of his profession, that his good receipt +Shall for my legacy be sanctified +By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour +But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture +The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure +By such a day and hour. + +COUNTESS +Dost thou believe't? + +HELENA +Ay, madam, knowingly. + +COUNTESS +Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, +Means and attendants and my loving greetings +To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home +And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: +Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, +What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES +KING +Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles +Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: +Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all +The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received, +And is enough for both. + +First Lord +'Tis our hope, sir, +After well enter'd soldiers, to return +And find your grace in health. + +KING +No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart +Will not confess he owes the malady +That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; +Whether I live or die, be you the sons +Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- +Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last monarchy,--see that you come +Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when +The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, +That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell. + +Second Lord +Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! + +KING +Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: +They say, our French lack language to deny, +If they demand: beware of being captives, +Before you serve. + +Both +Our hearts receive your warnings. + +KING +Farewell. Come hither to me. + +Exit, attended + +First Lord +O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + +PAROLLES +'Tis not his fault, the spark. + +Second Lord +O, 'tis brave wars! + +PAROLLES +Most admirable: I have seen those wars. + +BERTRAM +I am commanded here, and kept a coil with +'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.' + +PAROLLES +An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely. + +BERTRAM +I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, +Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, +Till honour be bought up and no sword worn +But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. + +First Lord +There's honour in the theft. + +PAROLLES +Commit it, count. + +Second Lord +I am your accessary; and so, farewell. + +BERTRAM +I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. + +First Lord +Farewell, captain. + +Second Lord +Sweet Monsieur Parolles! + +PAROLLES +Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good +sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall +find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain +Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here +on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword +entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his +reports for me. + +First Lord +We shall, noble captain. + +Exeunt Lords + +PAROLLES +Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do? + +BERTRAM +Stay: the king. + +Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the +noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the +list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to +them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the +time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and +move under the influence of the most received star; +and though the devil lead the measure, such are to +be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. + +BERTRAM +And I will do so. + +PAROLLES +Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES + +Enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + +KING +I'll fee thee to stand up. + +LAFEU +Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon. +I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + +KING +I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, +And ask'd thee mercy for't. + +LAFEU +Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus; +Will you be cured of your infirmity? + +KING +No. + +LAFEU +O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? +Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if +My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine +That's able to breathe life into a stone, +Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary +With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, +Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, +To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, +And write to her a love-line. + +KING +What 'her' is this? + +LAFEU +Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived, +If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, +If seriously I may convey my thoughts +In this my light deliverance, I have spoke +With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, +Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more +Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her +For that is her demand, and know her business? +That done, laugh well at me. + +KING +Now, good Lafeu, +Bring in the admiration; that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wondering how thou took'st it. + +LAFEU +Nay, I'll fit you, +And not be all day neither. + +Exit + +KING +Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + +Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways. + +KING +This haste hath wings indeed. + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways: +This is his majesty; say your mind to him: +A traitor you do look like; but such traitors +His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, +That dare leave two together; fare you well. + +Exit + +KING +Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + +HELENA +Ay, my good lord. +Gerard de Narbon was my father; +In what he did profess, well found. + +KING +I knew him. + +HELENA +The rather will I spare my praises towards him: +Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death +Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. +Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, +And of his old experience the oily darling, +He bade me store up, as a triple eye, +Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; +And hearing your high majesty is touch'd +With that malignant cause wherein the honour +Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, +I come to tender it and my appliance +With all bound humbleness. + +KING +We thank you, maiden; +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned doctors leave us and +The congregated college have concluded +That labouring art can never ransom nature +From her inaidible estate; I say we must not +So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, +To prostitute our past-cure malady +To empirics, or to dissever so +Our great self and our credit, to esteem +A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + +HELENA +My duty then shall pay me for my pains: +I will no more enforce mine office on you. +Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts +A modest one, to bear me back a again. + +KING +I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: +Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give +As one near death to those that wish him live: +But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, +I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + +HELENA +What I can do can do no hurt to try, +Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. +He that of greatest works is finisher +Oft does them by the weakest minister: +So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, +When judges have been babes; great floods have flown +From simple sources, and great seas have dried +When miracles have by the greatest been denied. +Oft expectation fails and most oft there +Where most it promises, and oft it hits +Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. + +KING +I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; +Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: +Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + +HELENA +Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: +It is not so with Him that all things knows +As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; +But most it is presumption in us when +The help of heaven we count the act of men. +Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; +Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an impostor that proclaim +Myself against the level of mine aim; +But know I think and think I know most sure +My art is not past power nor you past cure. + +KING +Are thou so confident? within what space +Hopest thou my cure? + +HELENA +The great'st grace lending grace +Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, +Ere twice in murk and occidental damp +Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, +Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass +Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, +What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, +Health shall live free and sickness freely die. + +KING +Upon thy certainty and confidence +What darest thou venture? + +HELENA +Tax of impudence, +A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame +Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name +Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended +With vilest torture let my life be ended. + +KING +Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerful sound within an organ weak: +And what impossibility would slay +In common sense, sense saves another way. +Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate +Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, +Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all +That happiness and prime can happy call: +Thou this to hazard needs must intimate +Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. +Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, +That ministers thine own death if I die. + +HELENA +If I break time, or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, +And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee; +But, if I help, what do you promise me? + +KING +Make thy demand. + +HELENA +But will you make it even? + +KING +Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. + +HELENA +Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command: +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royal blood of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state; +But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know +Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + +KING +Here is my hand; the premises observed, +Thy will by my performance shall be served: +So make the choice of thy own time, for I, +Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. +More should I question thee, and more I must, +Though more to know could not be more to trust, +From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest +Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. +Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed +As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of +your breeding. + +Clown +I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I +know my business is but to the court. + +COUNTESS +To the court! why, what place make you special, +when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! + +Clown +Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he +may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make +a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, +has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed +such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the +court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all +men. + +COUNTESS +Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all +questions. + +Clown +It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, +the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn +buttock, or any buttock. + +COUNTESS +Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + +Clown +As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, +as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's +rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove +Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his +hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen +to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the +friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + +COUNTESS +Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all +questions? + +Clown +From below your duke to beneath your constable, it +will fit any question. + +COUNTESS +It must be an answer of most monstrous size that +must fit all demands. + +Clown +But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned +should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that +belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall +do you no harm to learn. + +COUNTESS +To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in +question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I +pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + +Clown +O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, +more, a hundred of them. + +COUNTESS +Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. + +COUNTESS +I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. + +COUNTESS +You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! spare not me. + +COUNTESS +Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and +'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very +sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well +to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. + +Clown +I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, +sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. + +COUNTESS +I play the noble housewife with the time +To entertain't so merrily with a fool. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. + +COUNTESS +An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this, +And urge her to a present answer back: +Commend me to my kinsmen and my son: +This is not much. + +Clown +Not much commendation to them. + +COUNTESS +Not much employment for you: you understand me? + +Clown +Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. + +COUNTESS +Haste you again. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE III. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES +LAFEU +They say miracles are past; and we have our +philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, +things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that +we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves +into seeming knowledge, when we should submit +ourselves to an unknown fear. + +PAROLLES +Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath +shot out in our latter times. + +BERTRAM +And so 'tis. + +LAFEU +To be relinquish'd of the artists,-- + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Both of Galen and Paracelsus. + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Of all the learned and authentic fellows,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; so I say. + +LAFEU +That gave him out incurable,-- + +PAROLLES +Why, there 'tis; so say I too. + +LAFEU +Not to be helped,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a-- + +LAFEU +Uncertain life, and sure death. + +PAROLLES +Just, you say well; so would I have said. + +LAFEU +I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. + +PAROLLES +It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you +shall read it in--what do you call there? + +LAFEU +A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. + +PAROLLES +That's it; I would have said the very same. + +LAFEU +Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, +I speak in respect-- + +PAROLLES +Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the +brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most +facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the-- + +LAFEU +Very hand of heaven. + +PAROLLES +Ay, so I say. + +LAFEU +In a most weak-- + +pausing + +and debile minister, great power, great +transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a +further use to be made than alone the recovery of +the king, as to be-- + +pausing + +generally thankful. + +PAROLLES +I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. + +Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and PAROLLES retire + +LAFEU +Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the +better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's +able to lead her a coranto. + +PAROLLES +Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? + +LAFEU +'Fore God, I think so. + +KING +Go, call before me all the lords in court. +Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; +And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense +Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive +The confirmation of my promised gift, +Which but attends thy naming. + +Enter three or four Lords + +Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel +Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, +O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice +I have to use: thy frank election make; +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + +HELENA +To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress +Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one! + +LAFEU +I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture, +My mouth no more were broken than these boys', +And writ as little beard. + +KING +Peruse them well: +Not one of those but had a noble father. + +HELENA +Gentlemen, +Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. + +All +We understand it, and thank heaven for you. + +HELENA +I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest, +That I protest I simply am a maid. +Please it your majesty, I have done already: +The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, +'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused, +Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; +We'll ne'er come there again.' + +KING +Make choice; and, see, +Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + +HELENA +Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, +And to imperial Love, that god most high, +Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit? + +First Lord +And grant it. + +HELENA +Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. + +LAFEU +I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace +for my life. + +HELENA +The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, +Before I speak, too threateningly replies: +Love make your fortunes twenty times above +Her that so wishes and her humble love! + +Second Lord +No better, if you please. + +HELENA +My wish receive, +Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave. + +LAFEU +Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, +I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the +Turk, to make eunuchs of. + +HELENA +Be not afraid that I your hand should take; +I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: +Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed +Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! + +LAFEU +These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: +sure, they are bastards to the English; the French +ne'er got 'em. + +HELENA +You are too young, too happy, and too good, +To make yourself a son out of my blood. + +Fourth Lord +Fair one, I think not so. + +LAFEU +There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk +wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth +of fourteen; I have known thee already. + +HELENA +[To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give +Me and my service, ever whilst I live, +Into your guiding power. This is the man. + +KING +Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. + +BERTRAM +My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, +In such a business give me leave to use +The help of mine own eyes. + +KING +Know'st thou not, Bertram, +What she has done for me? + +BERTRAM +Yes, my good lord; +But never hope to know why I should marry her. + +KING +Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + +BERTRAM +But follows it, my lord, to bring me down +Must answer for your raising? I know her well: +She had her breeding at my father's charge. +A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain +Rather corrupt me ever! + +KING +'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which +I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, +Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, +Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off +In differences so mighty. If she be +All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, +A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest +Of virtue for the name: but do not so: +From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by the doer's deed: +Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, +It is a dropsied honour. Good alone +Is good without a name. Vileness is so: +The property by what it is should go, +Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; +In these to nature she's immediate heir, +And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, +Which challenges itself as honour's born +And is not like the sire: honours thrive, +When rather from our acts we them derive +Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave +Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave +A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb +Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb +Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? +If thou canst like this creature as a maid, +I can create the rest: virtue and she +Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. + +BERTRAM +I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. + +KING +Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. + +HELENA +That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: +Let the rest go. + +KING +My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, +I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, +Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; +That dost in vile misprision shackle up +My love and her desert; that canst not dream, +We, poising us in her defective scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, +It is in us to plant thine honour where +We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt: +Obey our will, which travails in thy good: +Believe not thy disdain, but presently +Do thine own fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy duty owes and our power claims; +Or I will throw thee from my care for ever +Into the staggers and the careless lapse +Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate +Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice, +Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. + +BERTRAM +Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit +My fancy to your eyes: when I consider +What great creation and what dole of honour +Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late +Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now +The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, +Is as 'twere born so. + +KING +Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise +A counterpoise, if not to thy estate +A balance more replete. + +BERTRAM +I take her hand. + +KING +Good fortune and the favour of the king +Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony +Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, +And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast +Shall more attend upon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her, +Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. + +Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES + +LAFEU +[Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. + +PAROLLES +Your pleasure, sir? + +LAFEU +Your lord and master did well to make his +recantation. + +PAROLLES +Recantation! My lord! my master! + +LAFEU +Ay; is it not a language I speak? + +PAROLLES +A most harsh one, and not to be understood without +bloody succeeding. My master! + +LAFEU +Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? + +PAROLLES +To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + +LAFEU +To what is count's man: count's master is of +another style. + +PAROLLES +You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. + +LAFEU +I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which +title age cannot bring thee. + +PAROLLES +What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + +LAFEU +I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty +wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy +travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the +bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from +believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I +have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care +not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and +that thou't scarce worth. + +PAROLLES +Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,-- + +LAFEU +Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou +hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee +for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee +well: thy casement I need not open, for I look +through thee. Give me thy hand. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. + +LAFEU +Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. + +PAROLLES +I have not, my lord, deserved it. + +LAFEU +Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not +bate thee a scruple. + +PAROLLES +Well, I shall be wiser. + +LAFEU +Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at +a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound +in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is +to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold +my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, +that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. + +LAFEU +I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor +doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by +thee, in what motion age will give me leave. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off +me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must +be patient; there is no fettering of authority. +I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with +any convenience, an he were double and double a +lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I +would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + +Re-enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news +for you: you have a new mistress. + +PAROLLES +I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make +some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good +lord: whom I serve above is my master. + +LAFEU +Who? God? + +PAROLLES +Ay, sir. + +LAFEU +The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou +garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of +sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set +thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine +honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat +thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and +every man should beat thee: I think thou wast +created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + +PAROLLES +This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. + +LAFEU +Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a +kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and +no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords +and honourable personages than the commission of your +birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not +worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; +let it be concealed awhile. + +Re-enter BERTRAM + +BERTRAM +Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! + +PAROLLES +What's the matter, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, +I will not bed her. + +PAROLLES +What, what, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +O my Parolles, they have married me! +I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. + +PAROLLES +France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits +The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! + +BERTRAM +There's letters from my mother: what the import is, +I know not yet. + +PAROLLES +Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! +He wears his honour in a box unseen, +That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, +Spending his manly marrow in her arms, +Which should sustain the bound and high curvet +Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions +France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades; +Therefore, to the war! + +BERTRAM +It shall be so: I'll send her to my house, +Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, +And wherefore I am fled; write to the king +That which I durst not speak; his present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, +Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife +To the dark house and the detested wife. + +PAROLLES +Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? + +BERTRAM +Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. +I'll send her straight away: to-morrow +I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + +PAROLLES +Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: +A young man married is a man that's marr'd: +Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: +The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter HELENA and Clown +HELENA +My mother greets me kindly; is she well? + +Clown +She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's +very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be +given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the +world; but yet she is not well. + +HELENA +If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's +not very well? + +Clown +Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + +HELENA +What two things? + +Clown +One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her +quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence +God send her quickly! + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Bless you, my fortunate lady! + +HELENA +I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own +good fortunes. + +PAROLLES +You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them +on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady? + +Clown +So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, +I would she did as you say. + +PAROLLES +Why, I say nothing. + +Clown +Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's +tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say +nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have +nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which +is within a very little of nothing. + +PAROLLES +Away! thou'rt a knave. + +Clown +You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a +knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had +been truth, sir. + +PAROLLES +Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. + +Clown +Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you +taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; +and much fool may you find in you, even to the +world's pleasure and the increase of laughter. + +PAROLLES +A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. +Madam, my lord will go away to-night; +A very serious business calls on him. +The great prerogative and rite of love, +Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; +But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; +Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, +Which they distil now in the curbed time, +To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy +And pleasure drown the brim. + +HELENA +What's his will else? + +PAROLLES +That you will take your instant leave o' the king +And make this haste as your own good proceeding, +Strengthen'd with what apology you think +May make it probable need. + +HELENA +What more commands he? + +PAROLLES +That, having this obtain'd, you presently +Attend his further pleasure. + +HELENA +In every thing I wait upon his will. + +PAROLLES +I shall report it so. + +HELENA +I pray you. + +Exit PAROLLES + +Come, sirrah. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM +LAFEU +But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. + +BERTRAM +Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + +LAFEU +You have it from his own deliverance. + +BERTRAM +And by other warranted testimony. + +LAFEU +Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting. + +BERTRAM +I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in +knowledge and accordingly valiant. + +LAFEU +I have then sinned against his experience and +transgressed against his valour; and my state that +way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my +heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make +us friends; I will pursue the amity. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir. + +LAFEU +Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + +PAROLLES +Sir? + +LAFEU +O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good +workman, a very good tailor. + +BERTRAM +[Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the king? + +PAROLLES +She is. + +BERTRAM +Will she away to-night? + +PAROLLES +As you'll have her. + +BERTRAM +I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, +Given order for our horses; and to-night, +When I should take possession of the bride, +End ere I do begin. + +LAFEU +A good traveller is something at the latter end of a +dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a +known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should +be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain. + +BERTRAM +Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? + +PAROLLES +I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's +displeasure. + +LAFEU +You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs +and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and +out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer +question for your residence. + +BERTRAM +It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + +LAFEU +And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's +prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this +of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the +soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in +matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them +tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur: +I have spoken better of you than you have or will to +deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +An idle lord. I swear. + +BERTRAM +I think so. + +PAROLLES +Why, do you not know him? + +BERTRAM +Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. + +Enter HELENA + +HELENA +I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, +Spoke with the king and have procured his leave +For present parting; only he desires +Some private speech with you. + +BERTRAM +I shall obey his will. +You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, +Which holds not colour with the time, nor does +The ministration and required office +On my particular. Prepared I was not +For such a business; therefore am I found +So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you +That presently you take our way for home; +And rather muse than ask why I entreat you, +For my respects are better than they seem +And my appointments have in them a need +Greater than shows itself at the first view +To you that know them not. This to my mother: + +Giving a letter + +'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so +I leave you to your wisdom. + +HELENA +Sir, I can nothing say, +But that I am your most obedient servant. + +BERTRAM +Come, come, no more of that. + +HELENA +And ever shall +With true observance seek to eke out that +Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd +To equal my great fortune. + +BERTRAM +Let that go: +My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. + +HELENA +Pray, sir, your pardon. + +BERTRAM +Well, what would you say? + +HELENA +I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; +But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal +What law does vouch mine own. + +BERTRAM +What would you have? + +HELENA +Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed. +I would not tell you what I would, my lord: +Faith yes; +Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. + +BERTRAM +I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. + +HELENA +I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. + +BERTRAM +Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. + +Exit HELENA + +Go thou toward home; where I will never come +Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. +Away, and for our flight. + +PAROLLES +Bravely, coragio! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Florence. The DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended; the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. +DUKE +So that from point to point now have you heard +The fundamental reasons of this war, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after. + +First Lord +Holy seems the quarrel +Upon your grace's part; black and fearful +On the opposer. + +DUKE +Therefore we marvel much our cousin France +Would in so just a business shut his bosom +Against our borrowing prayers. + +Second Lord +Good my lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yield, +But like a common and an outward man, +That the great figure of a council frames +By self-unable motion: therefore dare not +Say what I think of it, since I have found +Myself in my incertain grounds to fail +As often as I guess'd. + +DUKE +Be it his pleasure. + +First Lord +But I am sure the younger of our nature, +That surfeit on their ease, will day by day +Come here for physic. + +DUKE +Welcome shall they be; +And all the honours that can fly from us +Shall on them settle. You know your places well; +When better fall, for your avails they fell: +To-morrow to the field. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +It hath happened all as I would have had it, save +that he comes not along with her. + +Clown +By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very +melancholy man. + +COUNTESS +By what observance, I pray you? + +Clown +Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the +ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his +teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of +melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + +COUNTESS +Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. + +Opening a letter + +Clown +I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our +old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing +like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: +the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to +love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + +COUNTESS +What have we here? + +Clown +E'en that you have there. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +[Reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath +recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded +her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' +eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it +before the report come. If there be breadth enough +in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty +to you. Your unfortunate son, +BERTRAM. +This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. +To fly the favours of so good a king; +To pluck his indignation on thy head +By the misprising of a maid too virtuous +For the contempt of empire. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two +soldiers and my young lady! + +COUNTESS +What is the matter? + +Clown +Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some +comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I +thought he would. + +COUNTESS +Why should he be killed? + +Clown +So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: +the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of +men, though it be the getting of children. Here +they come will tell you more: for my part, I only +hear your son was run away. + +Exit + +Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen + +First Gentleman +Save you, good madam. + +HELENA +Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. + +Second Gentleman +Do not say so. + +COUNTESS +Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen, +I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, +That the first face of neither, on the start, +Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? + +Second Gentleman +Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: +We met him thitherward; for thence we came, +And, after some dispatch in hand at court, +Thither we bend again. + +HELENA +Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. + +Reads + +When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which +never shall come off, and show me a child begotten +of thy body that I am father to, then call me +husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' +This is a dreadful sentence. + +COUNTESS +Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam; +And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. + +COUNTESS +I prithee, lady, have a better cheer; +If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, +Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? + +Second Gentleman +Ay, madam. + +COUNTESS +And to be a soldier? + +Second Gentleman +Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't, +The duke will lay upon him all the honour +That good convenience claims. + +COUNTESS +Return you thither? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + +HELENA +[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. +'Tis bitter. + +COUNTESS +Find you that there? + +HELENA +Ay, madam. + +First Gentleman +'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his +heart was not consenting to. + +COUNTESS +Nothing in France, until he have no wife! +There's nothing here that is too good for him +But only she; and she deserves a lord +That twenty such rude boys might tend upon +And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + +First Gentleman +A servant only, and a gentleman +Which I have sometime known. + +COUNTESS +Parolles, was it not? + +First Gentleman +Ay, my good lady, he. + +COUNTESS +A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. +My son corrupts a well-derived nature +With his inducement. + +First Gentleman +Indeed, good lady, +The fellow has a deal of that too much, +Which holds him much to have. + +COUNTESS +You're welcome, gentlemen. +I will entreat you, when you see my son, +To tell him that his sword can never win +The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you +Written to bear along. + +Second Gentleman +We serve you, madam, +In that and all your worthiest affairs. + +COUNTESS +Not so, but as we change our courtesies. +Will you draw near! + +Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen + +HELENA +'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.' +Nothing in France, until he has no wife! +Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; +Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I +That chase thee from thy country and expose +Those tender limbs of thine to the event +Of the none-sparing war? and is it I +That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou +Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark +Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, +That ride upon the violent speed of fire, +Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, +That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. +Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; +Whoever charges on his forward breast, +I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; +And, though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected: better 'twere +I met the ravin lion when he roar'd +With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, +Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, +As oft it loses all: I will be gone; +My being here it is that holds thee hence: +Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although +The air of paradise did fan the house +And angels officed all: I will be gone, +That pitiful rumour may report my flight, +To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! +For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets +DUKE +The general of our horse thou art; and we, +Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence +Upon thy promising fortune. + +BERTRAM +Sir, it is +A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet +We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake +To the extreme edge of hazard. + +DUKE +Then go thou forth; +And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, +As thy auspicious mistress! + +BERTRAM +This very day, +Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove +A lover of thy drum, hater of love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Steward +COUNTESS +Alas! and would you take the letter of her? +Might you not know she would do as she has done, +By sending me a letter? Read it again. + +Steward +[Reads] +I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: +Ambitious love hath so in me offended, +That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, +With sainted vow my faults to have amended. +Write, write, that from the bloody course of war +My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: +Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far +His name with zealous fervor sanctify: +His taken labours bid him me forgive; +I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth +From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, +Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: +He is too good and fair for death and me: +Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. + +COUNTESS +Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! +Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, +As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, +I could have well diverted her intents, +Which thus she hath prevented. + +Steward +Pardon me, madam: +If I had given you this at over-night, +She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, +Pursuit would be but vain. + +COUNTESS +What angel shall +Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, +Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear +And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath +Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, +To this unworthy husband of his wife; +Let every word weigh heavy of her worth +That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. +Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. +Dispatch the most convenient messenger: +When haply he shall hear that she is gone, +He will return; and hope I may that she, +Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, +Led hither by pure love: which of them both +Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense +To make distinction: provide this messenger: +My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; +Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off. + +Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other Citizens +Widow +Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we +shall lose all the sight. + +DIANA +They say the French count has done most honourable service. + +Widow +It is reported that he has taken their greatest +commander; and that with his own hand he slew the +duke's brother. + +Tucket + +We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary +way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. + +MARIANA +Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with +the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this +French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and +no legacy is so rich as honesty. + +Widow +I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited +by a gentleman his companion. + +MARIANA +I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a +filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the +young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, +enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of +lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid +hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, +example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of +maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, +but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten +them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but +I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, +though there were no further danger known but the +modesty which is so lost. + +DIANA +You shall not need to fear me. + +Widow +I hope so. + +Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim + +Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at +my house; thither they send one another: I'll +question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? + +HELENA +To Saint Jaques le Grand. +Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + +Widow +At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + +HELENA +Is this the way? + +Widow +Ay, marry, is't. + +A march afar + +Hark you! they come this way. +If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, +But till the troops come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; +The rather, for I think I know your hostess +As ample as myself. + +HELENA +Is it yourself? + +Widow +If you shall please so, pilgrim. + +HELENA +I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + +Widow +You came, I think, from France? + +HELENA +I did so. + +Widow +Here you shall see a countryman of yours +That has done worthy service. + +HELENA +His name, I pray you. + +DIANA +The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? + +HELENA +But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: +His face I know not. + +DIANA +Whatsome'er he is, +He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, +As 'tis reported, for the king had married him +Against his liking: think you it is so? + +HELENA +Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. + +DIANA +There is a gentleman that serves the count +Reports but coarsely of her. + +HELENA +What's his name? + +DIANA +Monsieur Parolles. + +HELENA +O, I believe with him, +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great count himself, she is too mean +To have her name repeated: all her deserving +Is a reserved honesty, and that +I have not heard examined. + +DIANA +Alas, poor lady! +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting lord. + +Widow +I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, +Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her +A shrewd turn, if she pleased. + +HELENA +How do you mean? +May be the amorous count solicits her +In the unlawful purpose. + +Widow +He does indeed; +And brokes with all that can in such a suit +Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: +But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard +In honestest defence. + +MARIANA +The gods forbid else! + +Widow +So, now they come: + +Drum and Colours + +Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army + +That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; +That, Escalus. + +HELENA +Which is the Frenchman? + +DIANA +He; +That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. +I would he loved his wife: if he were honester +He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? + +HELENA +I like him well. + +DIANA +'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave +That leads him to these places: were I his lady, +I would Poison that vile rascal. + +HELENA +Which is he? + +DIANA +That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? + +HELENA +Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. + +PAROLLES +Lose our drum! well. + +MARIANA +He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. + +Widow +Marry, hang you! + +MARIANA +And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! + +Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army + +Widow +The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you +Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents +There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, +Already at my house. + +HELENA +I humbly thank you: +Please it this matron and this gentle maid +To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this virgin +Worthy the note. + +BOTH +We'll take your offer kindly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. + +Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords +Second Lord +Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his +way. + +First Lord +If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no +more in your respect. + +Second Lord +On my life, my lord, a bubble. + +BERTRAM +Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + +Second Lord +Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, +without any malice, but to speak of him as my +kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and +endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner +of no one good quality worthy your lordship's +entertainment. + +First Lord +It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in +his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some +great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. + +BERTRAM +I would I knew in what particular action to try him. + +First Lord +None better than to let him fetch off his drum, +which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. + +Second Lord +I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly +surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he +knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink +him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he +is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when +we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship +present at his examination: if he do not, for the +promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of +base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the +intelligence in his power against you, and that with +the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never +trust my judgment in any thing. + +First Lord +O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; +he says he has a stratagem for't: when your +lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to +what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be +melted, if you give him not John Drum's +entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. +Here he comes. + +Enter PAROLLES + +Second Lord +[Aside to BERTRAM] O, for the love of laughter, +hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch +off his drum in any hand. + +BERTRAM +How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your +disposition. + +First Lord +A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. + +PAROLLES +'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost! +There was excellent command,--to charge in with our +horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! + +First Lord +That was not to be blamed in the command of the +service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar +himself could not have prevented, if he had been +there to command. + +BERTRAM +Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some +dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is +not to be recovered. + +PAROLLES +It might have been recovered. + +BERTRAM +It might; but it is not now. + +PAROLLES +It is to be recovered: but that the merit of +service is seldom attributed to the true and exact +performer, I would have that drum or another, or +'hic jacet.' + +BERTRAM +Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you +think your mystery in stratagem can bring this +instrument of honour again into his native quarter, +be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will +grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you +speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. +and extend to you what further becomes his +greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your +worthiness. + +PAROLLES +By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + +BERTRAM +But you must not now slumber in it. + +PAROLLES +I'll about it this evening: and I will presently +pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my +certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; +and by midnight look to hear further from me. + +BERTRAM +May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? + +PAROLLES +I know not what the success will be, my lord; but +the attempt I vow. + +BERTRAM +I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of +thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + +PAROLLES +I love not many words. + +Exit + +Second Lord +No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a +strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems +to undertake this business, which he knows is not to +be done; damns himself to do and dares better be +damned than to do't? + +First Lord +You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it +is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and +for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but +when you find him out, you have him ever after. + +BERTRAM +Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of +this that so seriously he does address himself unto? + +Second Lord +None in the world; but return with an invention and +clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we +have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall +to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. + +First Lord +We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case +him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: +when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a +sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this +very night. + +Second Lord +I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. + +BERTRAM +Your brother he shall go along with me. + +Second Lord +As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +Now will I lead you to the house, and show you +The lass I spoke of. + +First Lord +But you say she's honest. + +BERTRAM +That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once +And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, +By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, +Tokens and letters which she did re-send; +And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: +Will you go see her? + +First Lord +With all my heart, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA and Widow +HELENA +If you misdoubt me that I am not she, +I know not how I shall assure you further, +But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + +Widow +Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses; +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act. + +HELENA +Nor would I wish you. +First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, +And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken +Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, +By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, +Err in bestowing it. + +Widow +I should believe you: +For you have show'd me that which well approves +You're great in fortune. + +HELENA +Take this purse of gold, +And let me buy your friendly help thus far, +Which I will over-pay and pay again +When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, +Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, +Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, +As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. +Now his important blood will nought deny +That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From son to son, some four or five descents +Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds +In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, +To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, +Howe'er repented after. + +Widow +Now I see +The bottom of your purpose. + +HELENA +You see it lawful, then: it is no more, +But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, +Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; +In fine, delivers me to fill the time, +Herself most chastely absent: after this, +To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns +To what is passed already. + +Widow +I have yielded: +Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, +That time and place with this deceit so lawful +May prove coherent. Every night he comes +With musics of all sorts and songs composed +To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us +To chide him from our eaves; for he persists +As if his life lay on't. + +HELENA +Why then to-night +Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed +And lawful meaning in a lawful act, +Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: +But let's about it. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. + +Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other Soldiers in ambush +Second Lord +He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. +When you sally upon him, speak what terrible +language you will: though you understand it not +yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to +understand him, unless some one among us whom we +must produce for an interpreter. + +First Soldier +Good captain, let me be the interpreter. + +Second Lord +Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? + +First Soldier +No, sir, I warrant you. + +Second Lord +But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? + +First Soldier +E'en such as you speak to me. + +Second Lord +He must think us some band of strangers i' the +adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of +all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every +one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we +speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to +know straight our purpose: choughs' language, +gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, +interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, +ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, +and then to return and swear the lies he forges. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be +time enough to go home. What shall I say I have +done? It must be a very plausive invention that +carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces +have of late knocked too often at my door. I find +my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the +fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not +daring the reports of my tongue. + +Second Lord +This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue +was guilty of. + +PAROLLES +What the devil should move me to undertake the +recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the +impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I +must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in +exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they +will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great +ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the +instance? Tongue, I must put you into a +butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of +Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. + +Second Lord +Is it possible he should know what he is, and be +that he is? + +PAROLLES +I would the cutting of my garments would serve the +turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. + +Second Lord +We cannot afford you so. + +PAROLLES +Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in +stratagem. + +Second Lord +'Twould not do. + +PAROLLES +Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. + +Second Lord +Hardly serve. + +PAROLLES +Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel. + +Second Lord +How deep? + +PAROLLES +Thirty fathom. + +Second Lord +Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. + +PAROLLES +I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear +I recovered it. + +Second Lord +You shall hear one anon. + +PAROLLES +A drum now of the enemy's,-- + +Alarum within + +Second Lord +Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. + +All +Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. + +PAROLLES +O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes. + +They seize and blindfold him + +First Soldier +Boskos thromuldo boskos. + +PAROLLES +I know you are the Muskos' regiment: +And I shall lose my life for want of language; +If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll +Discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + +First Soldier +Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak +thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy +faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. + +PAROLLES +O! + +First Soldier +O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche. + +Second Lord +Oscorbidulchos volivorco. + +First Soldier +The general is content to spare thee yet; +And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on +To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform +Something to save thy life. + +PAROLLES +O, let me live! +And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, +Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that +Which you will wonder at. + +First Soldier +But wilt thou faithfully? + +PAROLLES +If I do not, damn me. + +First Soldier +Acordo linta. +Come on; thou art granted space. + +Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within + +Second Lord +Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother, +We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled +Till we do hear from them. + +Second Soldier +Captain, I will. + +Second Lord +A' will betray us all unto ourselves: +Inform on that. + +Second Soldier +So I will, sir. + +Second Lord +Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter BERTRAM and DIANA +BERTRAM +They told me that your name was Fontibell. + +DIANA +No, my good lord, Diana. + +BERTRAM +Titled goddess; +And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, +In your fine frame hath love no quality? +If quick fire of youth light not your mind, +You are no maiden, but a monument: +When you are dead, you should be such a one +As you are now, for you are cold and stem; +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet self was got. + +DIANA +She then was honest. + +BERTRAM +So should you be. + +DIANA +No: +My mother did but duty; such, my lord, +As you owe to your wife. + +BERTRAM +No more o' that; +I prithee, do not strive against my vows: +I was compell'd to her; but I love thee +By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever +Do thee all rights of service. + +DIANA +Ay, so you serve us +Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, +You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves +And mock us with our bareness. + +BERTRAM +How have I sworn! + +DIANA +'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, +But the plain single vow that is vow'd true. +What is not holy, that we swear not by, +But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me, +If I should swear by God's great attributes, +I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, +When I did love you ill? This has no holding, +To swear by him whom I protest to love, +That I will work against him: therefore your oaths +Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd, +At least in my opinion. + +BERTRAM +Change it, change it; +Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; +And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts +That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, +But give thyself unto my sick desires, +Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever +My love as it begins shall so persever. + +DIANA +I see that men make ropes in such a scarre +That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + +BERTRAM +I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power +To give it from me. + +DIANA +Will you not, my lord? + +BERTRAM +It is an honour 'longing to our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose. + +DIANA +Mine honour's such a ring: +My chastity's the jewel of our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom +Brings in the champion Honour on my part, +Against your vain assault. + +BERTRAM +Here, take my ring: +My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, +And I'll be bid by thee. + +DIANA +When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: +I'll order take my mother shall not hear. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, +Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: +My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them +When back again this ring shall be deliver'd: +And on your finger in the night I'll put +Another ring, that what in time proceeds +May token to the future our past deeds. +Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won +A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + +BERTRAM +A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. + +Exit + +DIANA +For which live long to thank both heaven and me! +You may so in the end. +My mother told me just how he would woo, +As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men +Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me +When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, +Marry that will, I live and die a maid: +Only in this disguise I think't no sin +To cozen him that would unjustly win. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Florentine camp. + +Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers +First Lord +You have not given him his mother's letter? + +Second Lord +I have delivered it an hour since: there is +something in't that stings his nature; for on the +reading it he changed almost into another man. + +First Lord +He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking +off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + +Second Lord +Especially he hath incurred the everlasting +displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his +bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a +thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + +First Lord +When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the +grave of it. + +Second Lord +He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in +Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he +fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath +given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself +made in the unchaste composition. + +First Lord +Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, +what things are we! + +Second Lord +Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course +of all treasons, we still see them reveal +themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, +so he that in this action contrives against his own +nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. + +First Lord +Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of +our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his +company to-night? + +Second Lord +Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. + +First Lord +That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see +his company anatomized, that he might take a measure +of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had +set this counterfeit. + +Second Lord +We will not meddle with him till he come; for his +presence must be the whip of the other. + +First Lord +In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? + +Second Lord +I hear there is an overture of peace. + +First Lord +Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + +Second Lord +What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel +higher, or return again into France? + +First Lord +I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether +of his council. + +Second Lord +Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal +of his act. + +First Lord +Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his +house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques +le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere +sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the +tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her +grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and +now she sings in heaven. + +Second Lord +How is this justified? + +First Lord +The stronger part of it by her own letters, which +makes her story true, even to the point of her +death: her death itself, which could not be her +office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by +the rector of the place. + +Second Lord +Hath the count all this intelligence? + +First Lord +Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from +point, so to the full arming of the verity. + +Second Lord +I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. + +First Lord +How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! + +Second Lord +And how mightily some other times we drown our gain +in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath +here acquired for him shall at home be encountered +with a shame as ample. + +First Lord +The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and +ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our +faults whipped them not; and our crimes would +despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. + +Enter a Messenger + +How now! where's your master? + +Servant +He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath +taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next +morning for France. The duke hath offered him +letters of commendations to the king. + +Second Lord +They shall be no more than needful there, if they +were more than they can commend. + +First Lord +They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. +Here's his lordship now. + +Enter BERTRAM + +How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? + +BERTRAM +I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a +month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: +I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his +nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my +lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; +and between these main parcels of dispatch effected +many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but +that I have not ended yet. + +Second Lord +If the business be of any difficulty, and this +morning your departure hence, it requires haste of +your lordship. + +BERTRAM +I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to +hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this +dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, +bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived +me, like a double-meaning prophesier. + +Second Lord +Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, +poor gallant knave. + +BERTRAM +No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping +his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? + +Second Lord +I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry +him. But to answer you as you would be understood; +he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he +hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes +to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to +this very instant disaster of his setting i' the +stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? + +BERTRAM +Nothing of me, has a'? + +Second Lord +His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his +face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you +are, you must have the patience to hear it. + +Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier + +BERTRAM +A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of +me: hush, hush! + +First Lord +Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa + +First Soldier +He calls for the tortures: what will you say +without 'em? + +PAROLLES +I will confess what I know without constraint: if +ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. + +First Soldier +Bosko chimurcho. + +First Lord +Boblibindo chicurmurco. + +First Soldier +You are a merciful general. Our general bids you +answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. + +PAROLLES +And truly, as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'First demand of him how many horse the +duke is strong.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand; but very weak and +unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and +the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation +and credit and as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +Shall I set down your answer so? + +PAROLLES +Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. + +BERTRAM +All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! + +First Lord +You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur +Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own +phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the +knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of +his dagger. + +Second Lord +I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword +clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him +by wearing his apparel neatly. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say +true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth. + +First Lord +He's very near the truth in this. + +BERTRAM +But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he +delivers it. + +PAROLLES +Poor rogues, I pray you, say. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the +rogues are marvellous poor. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Demand of him, of what strength they are +a-foot.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present +hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a +hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so +many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, +and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own +company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and +fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and +sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand +poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off +their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. + +BERTRAM +What shall be done to him? + +First Lord +Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my +condition, and what credit I have with the duke. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +Reads + +'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain +be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is +with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and +expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not +possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to +corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what +do you know of it? + +PAROLLES +I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of +the inter'gatories: demand them singly. + +First Soldier +Do you know this Captain Dumain? + +PAROLLES +I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, +from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's +fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not +say him nay. + +BERTRAM +Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know +his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. + +First Soldier +Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp? + +PAROLLES +Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy. + +First Lord +Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your +lordship anon. + +First Soldier +What is his reputation with the duke? + +PAROLLES +The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer +of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him +out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. + +First Soldier +Marry, we'll search. + +PAROLLES +In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, +or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters +in my tent. + +First Soldier +Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you? + +PAROLLES +I do not know if it be it or no. + +BERTRAM +Our interpreter does it well. + +First Lord +Excellently. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'-- + +PAROLLES +That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an +advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one +Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count +Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very +ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. + +First Soldier +Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. + +PAROLLES +My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the +behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be +a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to +virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. + +BERTRAM +Damnable both-sides rogue! + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it; +After he scores, he never pays the score: +Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; +He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; +And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, +Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: +For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, +Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. +Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, +PAROLLES.' + +BERTRAM +He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme +in's forehead. + +Second Lord +This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold +linguist and the armipotent soldier. + +BERTRAM +I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now +he's a cat to me. + +First Soldier +I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be +fain to hang you. + +PAROLLES +My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to +die; but that, my offences being many, I would +repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, +sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live. + +First Soldier +We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; +therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you +have answered to his reputation with the duke and to +his valour: what is his honesty? + +PAROLLES +He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for +rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he +professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he +is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with +such volubility, that you would think truth were a +fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will +be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little +harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they +know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but +little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has +every thing that an honest man should not have; what +an honest man should have, he has nothing. + +First Lord +I begin to love him for this. + +BERTRAM +For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon +him for me, he's more and more a cat. + +First Soldier +What say you to his expertness in war? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English +tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of +his soldiership I know not; except, in that country +he had the honour to be the officer at a place there +called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of +files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of +this I am not certain. + +First Lord +He hath out-villained villany so far, that the +rarity redeems him. + +BERTRAM +A pox on him, he's a cat still. + +First Soldier +His qualities being at this poor price, I need not +to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. + +PAROLLES +Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple +of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the +entail from all remainders, and a perpetual +succession for it perpetually. + +First Soldier +What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain? + +Second Lord +Why does be ask him of me? + +First Soldier +What's he? + +PAROLLES +E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so +great as the first in goodness, but greater a great +deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward, +yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: +in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming +on he has the cramp. + +First Soldier +If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray +the Florentine? + +PAROLLES +Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon. + +First Soldier +I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. + +PAROLLES +[Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all +drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to +beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy +the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who +would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? + +First Soldier +There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the +general says, you that have so traitorously +discovered the secrets of your army and made such +pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can +serve the world for no honest use; therefore you +must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. + +PAROLLES +O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! + +First Lord +That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. + +Unblinding him + +So, look about you: know you any here? + +BERTRAM +Good morrow, noble captain. + +Second Lord +God bless you, Captain Parolles. + +First Lord +God save you, noble captain. + +Second Lord +Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? +I am for France. + +First Lord +Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet +you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? +an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you: +but fare you well. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords + +First Soldier +You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that +has a knot on't yet + +PAROLLES +Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + +First Soldier +If you could find out a country where but women were +that had received so much shame, you might begin an +impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France +too: we shall speak of you there. + +Exit with Soldiers + +PAROLLES +Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, +'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; +But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft +As captain shall: simply the thing I am +Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, +Let him fear this, for it will come to pass +that every braggart shall be found an ass. +Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live +Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! +There's place and means for every man alive. +I'll after them. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA +HELENA +That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: +Time was, I did him a desired office, +Dear almost as his life; which gratitude +Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, +And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd +His grace is at Marseilles; to which place +We have convenient convoy. You must know +I am supposed dead: the army breaking, +My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, +And by the leave of my good lord the king, +We'll be before our welcome. + +Widow +Gentle madam, +You never had a servant to whose trust +Your business was more welcome. + +HELENA +Nor you, mistress, +Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour +To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven +Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motive +And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! +That can such sweet use make of what they hate, +When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play +With what it loathes for that which is away. +But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, +Under my poor instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalf. + +DIANA +Let death and honesty +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Upon your will to suffer. + +HELENA +Yet, I pray you: +But with the word the time will bring on summer, +When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, +And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; +Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us: +All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; +Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown +LAFEU +No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta +fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have +made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in +his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at +this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced +by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + +COUNTESS +I would I had not known him; it was the death of the +most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had +praise for creating. If she had partaken of my +flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I +could not have owed her a more rooted love. + +LAFEU +'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a +thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the +salad, or rather, the herb of grace. + +LAFEU +They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. + +Clown +I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much +skill in grass. + +LAFEU +Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? + +Clown +A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. + +LAFEU +Your distinction? + +Clown +I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. + +LAFEU +So you were a knave at his service, indeed. + +Clown +And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. + +LAFEU +I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. + +Clown +At your service. + +LAFEU +No, no, no. + +Clown +Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as +great a prince as you are. + +LAFEU +Who's that? a Frenchman? + +Clown +Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy +is more hotter in France than there. + +LAFEU +What prince is that? + +Clown +The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of +darkness; alias, the devil. + +LAFEU +Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this +to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; +serve him still. + +Clown +I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a +great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a +good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the +world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for +the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be +too little for pomp to enter: some that humble +themselves may; but the many will be too chill and +tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that +leads to the broad gate and the great fire. + +LAFEU +Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I +tell thee so before, because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well +looked to, without any tricks. + +Clown +If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be +jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. + +Exit + +LAFEU +A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + +COUNTESS +So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much +sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, +which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, +indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. + +LAFEU +I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to +tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and +that my lord your son was upon his return home, I +moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of +my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, +his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did +first propose: his highness hath promised me to do +it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath +conceived against your son, there is no fitter +matter. How does your ladyship like it? + +COUNTESS +With very much content, my lord; and I wish it +happily effected. + +LAFEU +His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able +body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here +to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such +intelligence hath seldom failed. + +COUNTESS +It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I +die. I have letters that my son will be here +to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain +with me till they meet together. + +LAFEU +Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might +safely be admitted. + +COUNTESS +You need but plead your honourable privilege. + +LAFEU +Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I +thank my God it holds yet. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of +velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't +or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of +velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a +half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + +LAFEU +A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery +of honour; so belike is that. + +Clown +But it is your carbonadoed face. + +LAFEU +Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk +with the young noble soldier. + +Clown +Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine +hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head +and nod at every man. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Marseilles. A street. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants +HELENA +But this exceeding posting day and night +Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: +But since you have made the days and nights as one, +To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, +Be bold you do so grow in my requital +As nothing can unroot you. In happy time; + +Enter a Gentleman + +This man may help me to his majesty's ear, +If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. + +Gentleman +And you. + +HELENA +Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + +Gentleman +I have been sometimes there. + +HELENA +I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen +From the report that goes upon your goodness; +An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The use of your own virtues, for the which +I shall continue thankful. + +Gentleman +What's your will? + +HELENA +That it will please you +To give this poor petition to the king, +And aid me with that store of power you have +To come into his presence. + +Gentleman +The king's not here. + +HELENA +Not here, sir! + +Gentleman +Not, indeed: +He hence removed last night and with more haste +Than is his use. + +Widow +Lord, how we lose our pains! + +HELENA +ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, +Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + +Gentleman +Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; +Whither I am going. + +HELENA +I do beseech you, sir, +Since you are like to see the king before me, +Commend the paper to his gracious hand, +Which I presume shall render you no blame +But rather make you thank your pains for it. +I will come after you with what good speed +Our means will make us means. + +Gentleman +This I'll do for you. + +HELENA +And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, +Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. +Go, go, provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace. + +Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following +PAROLLES +Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this +letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to +you, when I have held familiarity with fresher +clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's +mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong +displeasure. + +Clown +Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it +smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will +henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. +Prithee, allow the wind. + +PAROLLES +Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake +but by a metaphor. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my +nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get +thee further. + +PAROLLES +Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + +Clown +Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's +close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he +comes himself. + +Enter LAFEU + +Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's +cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the +unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he +says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the +carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, +ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his +distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to +your lordship. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly +scratched. + +LAFEU +And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to +pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the +knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who +of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves +thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for +you: let the justices make you and fortune friends: +I am for other business. + +PAROLLES +I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. + +LAFEU +You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; +save your word. + +PAROLLES +My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + +LAFEU +You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion! +give me your hand. How does your drum? + +PAROLLES +O my good lord, you were the first that found me! + +LAFEU +Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. + +PAROLLES +It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, +for you did bring me out. + +LAFEU +Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once +both the office of God and the devil? One brings +thee in grace and the other brings thee out. + +Trumpets sound + +The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, +inquire further after me; I had talk of you last +night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall +eat; go to, follow. + +PAROLLES +I praise God for you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two French Lords, with Attendants +KING +We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem +Was made much poorer by it: but your son, +As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know +Her estimation home. + +COUNTESS +'Tis past, my liege; +And I beseech your majesty to make it +Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; +When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, +O'erbears it and burns on. + +KING +My honour'd lady, +I have forgiven and forgotten all; +Though my revenges were high bent upon him, +And watch'd the time to shoot. + +LAFEU +This I must say, +But first I beg my pardon, the young lord +Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady +Offence of mighty note; but to himself +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife +Whose beauty did astonish the survey +Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, +Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve +Humbly call'd mistress. + +KING +Praising what is lost +Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; +We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill +All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; +The nature of his great offence is dead, +And deeper than oblivion we do bury +The incensing relics of it: let him approach, +A stranger, no offender; and inform him +So 'tis our will he should. + +Gentleman +I shall, my liege. + +Exit + +KING +What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? + +LAFEU +All that he is hath reference to your highness. + +KING +Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me +That set him high in fame. + +Enter BERTRAM + +LAFEU +He looks well on't. + +KING +I am not a day of season, +For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail +In me at once: but to the brightest beams +Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; +The time is fair again. + +BERTRAM +My high-repented blames, +Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + +KING +All is whole; +Not one word more of the consumed time. +Let's take the instant by the forward top; +For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees +The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time +Steals ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this lord? + +BERTRAM +Admiringly, my liege, at first +I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue +Where the impression of mine eye infixing, +Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, +Which warp'd the line of every other favour; +Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous object: thence it came +That she whom all men praised and whom myself, +Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it. + +KING +Well excused: +That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away +From the great compt: but love that comes too late, +Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, +To the great sender turns a sour offence, +Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults +Make trivial price of serious things we have, +Not knowing them until we know their grave: +Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, +Destroy our friends and after weep their dust +Our own love waking cries to see what's done, +While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. +Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: +The main consents are had; and here we'll stay +To see our widower's second marriage-day. + +COUNTESS +Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! +Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + +LAFEU +Come on, my son, in whom my house's name +Must be digested, give a favour from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. + +BERTRAM gives a ring + +By my old beard, +And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, +Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, +The last that e'er I took her at court, +I saw upon her finger. + +BERTRAM +Hers it was not. + +KING +Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. +This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, +I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood +Necessitied to help, that by this token +I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave +her +Of what should stead her most? + +BERTRAM +My gracious sovereign, +Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was never hers. + +COUNTESS +Son, on my life, +I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it +At her life's rate. + +LAFEU +I am sure I saw her wear it. + +BERTRAM +You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it: +In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, +Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name +Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought +I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed +To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully +I could not answer in that course of honour +As she had made the overture, she ceased +In heavy satisfaction and would never +Receive the ring again. + +KING +Plutus himself, +That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, +Hath not in nature's mystery more science +Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, +Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know +That you are well acquainted with yourself, +Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety +That she would never put it from her finger, +Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, +Where you have never come, or sent it us +Upon her great disaster. + +BERTRAM +She never saw it. + +KING +Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour; +And makest conjectural fears to come into me +Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove +That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;-- +And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead; which nothing, but to close +Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, +More than to see this ring. Take him away. + +Guards seize BERTRAM + +My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, +Shall tax my fears of little vanity, +Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him! +We'll sift this matter further. + +BERTRAM +If you shall prove +This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy +Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she never was. + +Exit, guarded + +KING +I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. + +Enter a Gentleman + +Gentleman +Gracious sovereign, +Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: +Here's a petition from a Florentine, +Who hath for four or five removes come short +To tender it herself. I undertook it, +Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech +Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know +Is here attending: her business looks in her +With an importing visage; and she told me, +In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern +Your highness with herself. + +KING +[Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me +when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won +me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows +are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He +stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow +him to his country for justice: grant it me, O +king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer +flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. +DIANA CAPILET. + +LAFEU +I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for +this: I'll none of him. + +KING +The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu, +To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: +Go speedily and bring again the count. +I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, +Was foully snatch'd. + +COUNTESS +Now, justice on the doers! + +Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded + +KING +I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, +And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. + +Enter Widow and DIANA + +What woman's that? + +DIANA +I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, +Derived from the ancient Capilet: +My suit, as I do understand, you know, +And therefore know how far I may be pitied. + +Widow +I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour +Both suffer under this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease, without your remedy. + +KING +Come hither, count; do you know these women? + +BERTRAM +My lord, I neither can nor will deny +But that I know them: do they charge me further? + +DIANA +Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + +BERTRAM +She's none of mine, my lord. + +DIANA +If you shall marry, +You give away this hand, and that is mine; +You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; +You give away myself, which is known mine; +For I by vow am so embodied yours, +That she which marries you must marry me, +Either both or none. + +LAFEU +Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you +are no husband for her. + +BERTRAM +My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, +Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness +Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour +Than for to think that I would sink it here. + +KING +Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend +Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour +Than in my thought it lies. + +DIANA +Good my lord, +Ask him upon his oath, if he does think +He had not my virginity. + +KING +What say'st thou to her? + +BERTRAM +She's impudent, my lord, +And was a common gamester to the camp. + +DIANA +He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, +He might have bought me at a common price: +Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, +Whose high respect and rich validity +Did lack a parallel; yet for all that +He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, +If I be one. + +COUNTESS +He blushes, and 'tis it: +Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, +Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, +Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; +That ring's a thousand proofs. + +KING +Methought you said +You saw one here in court could witness it. + +DIANA +I did, my lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. + +LAFEU +I saw the man to-day, if man he be. + +KING +Find him, and bring him hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +BERTRAM +What of him? +He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, +With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd; +Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. +Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, +That will speak any thing? + +KING +She hath that ring of yours. + +BERTRAM +I think she has: certain it is I liked her, +And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: +She knew her distance and did angle for me, +Madding my eagerness with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancy's course +Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, +Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, +Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; +And I had that which any inferior might +At market-price have bought. + +DIANA +I must be patient: +You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife, +May justly diet me. I pray you yet; +Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband; +Send for your ring, I will return it home, +And give me mine again. + +BERTRAM +I have it not. + +KING +What ring was yours, I pray you? + +DIANA +Sir, much like +The same upon your finger. + +KING +Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. + +DIANA +And this was it I gave him, being abed. + +KING +The story then goes false, you threw it him +Out of a casement. + +DIANA +I have spoke the truth. + +Enter PAROLLES + +BERTRAM +My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + +KING +You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you. +Is this the man you speak of? + +DIANA +Ay, my lord. + +KING +Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master, +Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off, +By him and by this woman here what know you? + +PAROLLES +So please your majesty, my master hath been an +honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, +which gentlemen have. + +KING +Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? + +KING +How, I pray you? + +PAROLLES +He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. + +KING +How is that? + +PAROLLES +He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + +KING +As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an +equivocal companion is this! + +PAROLLES +I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. + +LAFEU +He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. + +DIANA +Do you know he promised me marriage? + +PAROLLES +Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + +KING +But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? + +PAROLLES +Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, +as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for +indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and +of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I +was in that credit with them at that time that I +knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, +as promising her marriage, and things which would +derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not +speak what I know. + +KING +Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say +they are married: but thou art too fine in thy +evidence; therefore stand aside. +This ring, you say, was yours? + +DIANA +Ay, my good lord. + +KING +Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? + +DIANA +It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + +KING +Who lent it you? + +DIANA +It was not lent me neither. + +KING +Where did you find it, then? + +DIANA +I found it not. + +KING +If it were yours by none of all these ways, +How could you give it him? + +DIANA +I never gave it him. + +LAFEU +This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off +and on at pleasure. + +KING +This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. + +DIANA +It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. + +KING +Take her away; I do not like her now; +To prison with her: and away with him. +Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, +Thou diest within this hour. + +DIANA +I'll never tell you. + +KING +Take her away. + +DIANA +I'll put in bail, my liege. + +KING +I think thee now some common customer. + +DIANA +By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + +KING +Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + +DIANA +Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: +He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't; +I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. +Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; +I am either maid, or else this old man's wife. + +KING +She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. + +DIANA +Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir: + +Exit Widow + +The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this lord, +Who hath abused me, as he knows himself, +Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: +He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; +And at that time he got his wife with child: +Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick: +So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick: +And now behold the meaning. + +Re-enter Widow, with HELENA + +KING +Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? +Is't real that I see? + +HELENA +No, my good lord; +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name and not the thing. + +BERTRAM +Both, both. O, pardon! + +HELENA +O my good lord, when I was like this maid, +I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring; +And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: +'When from my finger you can get this ring +And are by me with child,' & c. This is done: +Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? + +BERTRAM +If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, +I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + +HELENA +If it appear not plain and prove untrue, +Deadly divorce step between me and you! +O my dear mother, do I see you living? + +LAFEU +Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: + +To PAROLLES + +Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so, +I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: +Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. + +KING +Let us from point to point this story know, +To make the even truth in pleasure flow. + +To DIANA + +If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; +For I can guess that by thy honest aid +Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. +Of that and all the progress, more or less, +Resolvedly more leisure shall express: +All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + +Flourish + +EPILOGUE + +KING +The king's a beggar, now the play is done: +All is well ended, if this suit be won, +That you express content; which we will pay, +With strife to please you, day exceeding day: +Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; +Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. + +Exeunt +As You Like It +Shakespeare homepage | As You Like It | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ORLANDO +As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion +bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, +and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his +blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my +sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and +report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, +he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more +properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you +that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that +differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses +are bred better; for, besides that they are fair +with their feeding, they are taught their manage, +and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his +brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the +which his animals on his dunghills are as much +bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so +plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave +me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets +me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a +brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my +gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that +grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I +think is within me, begins to mutiny against this +servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I +know no wise remedy how to avoid it. + +ADAM +Yonder comes my master, your brother. + +ORLANDO +Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will +shake me up. + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Now, sir! what make you here? + +ORLANDO +Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. + +OLIVER +What mar you then, sir? + +ORLANDO +Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God +made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. + +OLIVER +Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. + +ORLANDO +Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? +What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should +come to such penury? + +OLIVER +Know you where your are, sir? + +ORLANDO +O, sir, very well; here in your orchard. + +OLIVER +Know you before whom, sir? + +ORLANDO +Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know +you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle +condition of blood, you should so know me. The +courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that +you are the first-born; but the same tradition +takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers +betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as +you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is +nearer to his reverence. + +OLIVER +What, boy! + +ORLANDO +Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. + +OLIVER +Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? + +ORLANDO +I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice +a villain that says such a father begot villains. +Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand +from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy +tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. + +ADAM +Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's +remembrance, be at accord. + +OLIVER +Let me go, I say. + +ORLANDO +I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My +father charged you in his will to give me good +education: you have trained me like a peasant, +obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like +qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in +me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow +me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or +give me the poor allottery my father left me by +testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. + +OLIVER +And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? +Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled +with you; you shall have some part of your will: I +pray you, leave me. + +ORLANDO +I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good. + +OLIVER +Get you with him, you old dog. + +ADAM +Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my +teeth in your service. God be with my old master! +he would not have spoke such a word. + +Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM + +OLIVER +Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will +physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand +crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! + +Enter DENNIS + +DENNIS +Calls your worship? + +OLIVER +Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? + +DENNIS +So please you, he is here at the door and importunes +access to you. + +OLIVER +Call him in. + +Exit DENNIS + +'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. + +Enter CHARLES + +CHARLES +Good morrow to your worship. + +OLIVER +Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the +new court? + +CHARLES +There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: +that is, the old duke is banished by his younger +brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords +have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, +whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; +therefore he gives them good leave to wander. + +OLIVER +Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be +banished with her father? + +CHARLES +O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves +her, being ever from their cradles bred together, +that she would have followed her exile, or have died +to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no +less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and +never two ladies loved as they do. + +OLIVER +Where will the old duke live? + +CHARLES +They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and +a many merry men with him; and there they live like +the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young +gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time +carelessly, as they did in the golden world. + +OLIVER +What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? + +CHARLES +Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a +matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand +that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition +to come in disguised against me to try a fall. +To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that +escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him +well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, +for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I +must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, +out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you +withal, that either you might stay him from his +intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall +run into, in that it is a thing of his own search +and altogether against my will. + +OLIVER +Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which +thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had +myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and +have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from +it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles: +it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full +of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's +good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against +me his natural brother: therefore use thy +discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck +as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if +thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not +mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise +against thee by poison, entrap thee by some +treacherous device and never leave thee till he +hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; +for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak +it, there is not one so young and so villanous this +day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but +should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must +blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder. + +CHARLES +I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come +to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go +alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and +so God keep your worship! + +OLIVER +Farewell, good Charles. + +Exit CHARLES + +Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see +an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, +hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never +schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of +all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much +in the heart of the world, and especially of my own +people, who best know him, that I am altogether +misprised: but it shall not be so long; this +wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that +I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Lawn before the Duke's palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. + +ROSALIND +Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; +and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could +teach me to forget a banished father, you must not +learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. + +CELIA +Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight +that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, +had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou +hadst been still with me, I could have taught my +love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou, +if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously +tempered as mine is to thee. + +ROSALIND +Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to +rejoice in yours. + +CELIA +You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is +like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt +be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy +father perforce, I will render thee again in +affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break +that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my +sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. + +ROSALIND +From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let +me see; what think you of falling in love? + +CELIA +Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but +love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport +neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst +in honour come off again. + +ROSALIND +What shall be our sport, then? + +CELIA +Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from +her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. + +ROSALIND +I would we could do so, for her benefits are +mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman +doth most mistake in her gifts to women. + +CELIA +'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce +makes honest, and those that she makes honest she +makes very ill-favouredly. + +ROSALIND +Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to +Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, +not in the lineaments of Nature. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she +not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature +hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not +Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? + +ROSALIND +Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when +Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of +Nature's wit. + +CELIA +Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but +Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull +to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this +natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of +the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, +wit! whither wander you? + +TOUCHSTONE +Mistress, you must come away to your father. + +CELIA +Were you made the messenger? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you. + +ROSALIND +Where learned you that oath, fool? + +TOUCHSTONE +Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they +were good pancakes and swore by his honour the +mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the +pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and +yet was not the knight forsworn. + +CELIA +How prove you that, in the great heap of your +knowledge? + +ROSALIND +Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. + +TOUCHSTONE +Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and +swear by your beards that I am a knave. + +CELIA +By our beards, if we had them, thou art. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you +swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no +more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he +never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away +before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard. + +CELIA +Prithee, who is't that thou meanest? + +TOUCHSTONE +One that old Frederick, your father, loves. + +CELIA +My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! +speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation +one of these days. + +TOUCHSTONE +The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what +wise men do foolishly. + +CELIA +By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little +wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery +that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes +Monsieur Le Beau. + +ROSALIND +With his mouth full of news. + +CELIA +Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. + +ROSALIND +Then shall we be news-crammed. + +CELIA +All the better; we shall be the more marketable. + +Enter LE BEAU + +Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news? + +LE BEAU +Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. + +CELIA +Sport! of what colour? + +LE BEAU +What colour, madam! how shall I answer you? + +ROSALIND +As wit and fortune will. + +TOUCHSTONE +Or as the Destinies decree. + +CELIA +Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, if I keep not my rank,-- + +ROSALIND +Thou losest thy old smell. + +LE BEAU +You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good +wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. + +ROSALIND +You tell us the manner of the wrestling. + +LE BEAU +I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please +your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is +yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming +to perform it. + +CELIA +Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. + +LE BEAU +There comes an old man and his three sons,-- + +CELIA +I could match this beginning with an old tale. + +LE BEAU +Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence. + +ROSALIND +With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men +by these presents.' + +LE BEAU +The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the +duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him +and broke three of his ribs, that there is little +hope of life in him: so he served the second, and +so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, +their father, making such pitiful dole over them +that all the beholders take his part with weeping. + +ROSALIND +Alas! + +TOUCHSTONE +But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies +have lost? + +LE BEAU +Why, this that I speak of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first +time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport +for ladies. + +CELIA +Or I, I promise thee. + +ROSALIND +But is there any else longs to see this broken music +in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon +rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? + +LE BEAU +You must, if you stay here; for here is the place +appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to +perform it. + +CELIA +Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it. + +Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants + +DUKE FREDERICK +Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his +own peril on his forwardness. + +ROSALIND +Is yonder the man? + +LE BEAU +Even he, madam. + +CELIA +Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither +to see the wrestling? + +ROSALIND +Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You will take little delight in it, I can tell you; +there is such odds in the man. In pity of the +challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he +will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if +you can move him. + +CELIA +Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Do so: I'll not be by. + +LE BEAU +Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you. + +ORLANDO +I attend them with all respect and duty. + +ROSALIND +Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler? + +ORLANDO +No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I +come but in, as others do, to try with him the +strength of my youth. + +CELIA +Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your +years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's +strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or +knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your +adventure would counsel you to a more equal +enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to +embrace your own safety and give over this attempt. + +ROSALIND +Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore +be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke +that the wrestling might not go forward. + +ORLANDO +I beseech you, punish me not with your hard +thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny +so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let +your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my +trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one +shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one +dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my +friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the +world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in +the world I fill up a place, which may be better +supplied when I have made it empty. + +ROSALIND +The little strength that I have, I would it were with you. + +CELIA +And mine, to eke out hers. + +ROSALIND +Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you! + +CELIA +Your heart's desires be with you! + +CHARLES +Come, where is this young gallant that is so +desirous to lie with his mother earth? + +ORLANDO +Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You shall try but one fall. + +CHARLES +No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him +to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him +from a first. + +ORLANDO +An you mean to mock me after, you should not have +mocked me before: but come your ways. + +ROSALIND +Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! + +CELIA +I would I were invisible, to catch the strong +fellow by the leg. + +They wrestle + +ROSALIND +O excellent young man! + +CELIA +If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who +should down. + +Shout. CHARLES is thrown + +DUKE FREDERICK +No more, no more. + +ORLANDO +Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How dost thou, Charles? + +LE BEAU +He cannot speak, my lord. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? + +ORLANDO +Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. + +DUKE FREDERICK +I would thou hadst been son to some man else: +The world esteem'd thy father honourable, +But I did find him still mine enemy: +Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, +Hadst thou descended from another house. +But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth: +I would thou hadst told me of another father. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU + +CELIA +Were I my father, coz, would I do this? + +ORLANDO +I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, +His youngest son; and would not change that calling, +To be adopted heir to Frederick. + +ROSALIND +My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, +And all the world was of my father's mind: +Had I before known this young man his son, +I should have given him tears unto entreaties, +Ere he should thus have ventured. + +CELIA +Gentle cousin, +Let us go thank him and encourage him: +My father's rough and envious disposition +Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved: +If you do keep your promises in love +But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, +Your mistress shall be happy. + +ROSALIND +Gentleman, + +Giving him a chain from her neck + +Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, +That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. +Shall we go, coz? + +CELIA +Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. + +ORLANDO +Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts +Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up +Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. + +ROSALIND +He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes; +I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir? +Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown +More than your enemies. + +CELIA +Will you go, coz? + +ROSALIND +Have with you. Fare you well. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +ORLANDO +What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? +I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. +O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! +Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. + +Re-enter LE BEAU + +LE BEAU +Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you +To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved +High commendation, true applause and love, +Yet such is now the duke's condition +That he misconstrues all that you have done. +The duke is humorous; what he is indeed, +More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. + +ORLANDO +I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this: +Which of the two was daughter of the duke +That here was at the wrestling? + +LE BEAU +Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; +But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter +The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, +And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, +To keep his daughter company; whose loves +Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. +But I can tell you that of late this duke +Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, +Grounded upon no other argument +But that the people praise her for her virtues +And pity her for her good father's sake; +And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady +Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well: +Hereafter, in a better world than this, +I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. + +ORLANDO +I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. + +Exit LE BEAU + +Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; +From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother: +But heavenly Rosalind! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word? + +ROSALIND +Not one to throw at a dog. + +CELIA +No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon +curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. + +ROSALIND +Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one +should be lamed with reasons and the other mad +without any. + +CELIA +But is all this for your father? + +ROSALIND +No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how +full of briers is this working-day world! + +CELIA +They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in +holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden +paths our very petticoats will catch them. + +ROSALIND +I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. + +CELIA +Hem them away. + +ROSALIND +I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him. + +CELIA +Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. + +ROSALIND +O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself! + +CELIA +O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in +despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of +service, let us talk in good earnest: is it +possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so +strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? + +ROSALIND +The duke my father loved his father dearly. + +CELIA +Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son +dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, +for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate +not Orlando. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. + +CELIA +Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? + +ROSALIND +Let me love him for that, and do you love him +because I do. Look, here comes the duke. + +CELIA +With his eyes full of anger. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords + +DUKE FREDERICK +Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste +And get you from our court. + +ROSALIND +Me, uncle? + +DUKE FREDERICK +You, cousin +Within these ten days if that thou be'st found +So near our public court as twenty miles, +Thou diest for it. + +ROSALIND +I do beseech your grace, +Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: +If with myself I hold intelligence +Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, +If that I do not dream or be not frantic,-- +As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, +Never so much as in a thought unborn +Did I offend your highness. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thus do all traitors: +If their purgation did consist in words, +They are as innocent as grace itself: +Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. + +ROSALIND +Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: +Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. + +ROSALIND +So was I when your highness took his dukedom; +So was I when your highness banish'd him: +Treason is not inherited, my lord; +Or, if we did derive it from our friends, +What's that to me? my father was no traitor: +Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much +To think my poverty is treacherous. + +CELIA +Dear sovereign, hear me speak. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, +Else had she with her father ranged along. + +CELIA +I did not then entreat to have her stay; +It was your pleasure and your own remorse: +I was too young that time to value her; +But now I know her: if she be a traitor, +Why so am I; we still have slept together, +Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together, +And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, +Still we went coupled and inseparable. + +DUKE FREDERICK +She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, +Her very silence and her patience +Speak to the people, and they pity her. +Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; +And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous +When she is gone. Then open not thy lips: +Firm and irrevocable is my doom +Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. + +CELIA +Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: +I cannot live out of her company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself: +If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, +And in the greatness of my word, you die. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords + +CELIA +O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? +Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. +I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. + +ROSALIND +I have more cause. + +CELIA +Thou hast not, cousin; +Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke +Hath banish'd me, his daughter? + +ROSALIND +That he hath not. + +CELIA +No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love +Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: +Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? +No: let my father seek another heir. +Therefore devise with me how we may fly, +Whither to go and what to bear with us; +And do not seek to take your change upon you, +To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out; +For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, +Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. + +ROSALIND +Why, whither shall we go? + +CELIA +To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. + +ROSALIND +Alas, what danger will it be to us, +Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! +Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. + +CELIA +I'll put myself in poor and mean attire +And with a kind of umber smirch my face; +The like do you: so shall we pass along +And never stir assailants. + +ROSALIND +Were it not better, +Because that I am more than common tall, +That I did suit me all points like a man? +A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, +A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart +Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-- +We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, +As many other mannish cowards have +That do outface it with their semblances. + +CELIA +What shall I call thee when thou art a man? + +ROSALIND +I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page; +And therefore look you call me Ganymede. +But what will you be call'd? + +CELIA +Something that hath a reference to my state +No longer Celia, but Aliena. + +ROSALIND +But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal +The clownish fool out of your father's court? +Would he not be a comfort to our travel? + +CELIA +He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; +Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, +And get our jewels and our wealth together, +Devise the fittest time and safest way +To hide us from pursuit that will be made +After my flight. Now go we in content +To liberty and not to banishment. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters +DUKE SENIOR +Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, +Hath not old custom made this life more sweet +Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods +More free from peril than the envious court? +Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, +The seasons' difference, as the icy fang +And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, +Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, +Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say +'This is no flattery: these are counsellors +That feelingly persuade me what I am.' +Sweet are the uses of adversity, +Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, +Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; +And this our life exempt from public haunt +Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, +Sermons in stones and good in every thing. +I would not change it. + +AMIENS +Happy is your grace, +That can translate the stubbornness of fortune +Into so quiet and so sweet a style. + +DUKE SENIOR +Come, shall we go and kill us venison? +And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, +Being native burghers of this desert city, +Should in their own confines with forked heads +Have their round haunches gored. + +First Lord +Indeed, my lord, +The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, +And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp +Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. +To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself +Did steal behind him as he lay along +Under an oak whose antique root peeps out +Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: +To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, +That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, +Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord, +The wretched animal heaved forth such groans +That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat +Almost to bursting, and the big round tears +Coursed one another down his innocent nose +In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool +Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, +Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, +Augmenting it with tears. + +DUKE SENIOR +But what said Jaques? +Did he not moralize this spectacle? + +First Lord +O, yes, into a thousand similes. +First, for his weeping into the needless stream; +'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament +As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more +To that which had too much:' then, being there alone, +Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, +''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part +The flux of company:' anon a careless herd, +Full of the pasture, jumps along by him +And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques, +'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; +'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look +Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?' +Thus most invectively he pierceth through +The body of the country, city, court, +Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we +Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, +To fright the animals and to kill them up +In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. + +DUKE SENIOR +And did you leave him in this contemplation? + +Second Lord +We did, my lord, weeping and commenting +Upon the sobbing deer. + +DUKE SENIOR +Show me the place: +I love to cope him in these sullen fits, +For then he's full of matter. + +First Lord +I'll bring you to him straight. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords +DUKE FREDERICK +Can it be possible that no man saw them? +It cannot be: some villains of my court +Are of consent and sufferance in this. + +First Lord +I cannot hear of any that did see her. +The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, +Saw her abed, and in the morning early +They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. + +Second Lord +My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft +Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. +Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, +Confesses that she secretly o'erheard +Your daughter and her cousin much commend +The parts and graces of the wrestler +That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; +And she believes, wherever they are gone, +That youth is surely in their company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither; +If he be absent, bring his brother to me; +I'll make him find him: do this suddenly, +And let not search and inquisition quail +To bring again these foolish runaways. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting +ORLANDO +Who's there? + +ADAM +What, my young master? O, my gentle master! +O my sweet master! O you memory +Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? +Why are you virtuous? why do people love you? +And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant? +Why would you be so fond to overcome +The bonny priser of the humorous duke? +Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. +Know you not, master, to some kind of men +Their graces serve them but as enemies? +No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, +Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. +O, what a world is this, when what is comely +Envenoms him that bears it! + +ORLANDO +Why, what's the matter? + +ADAM +O unhappy youth! +Come not within these doors; within this roof +The enemy of all your graces lives: +Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son-- +Yet not the son, I will not call him son +Of him I was about to call his father-- +Hath heard your praises, and this night he means +To burn the lodging where you use to lie +And you within it: if he fail of that, +He will have other means to cut you off. +I overheard him and his practises. +This is no place; this house is but a butchery: +Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. + +ORLANDO +Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? + +ADAM +No matter whither, so you come not here. + +ORLANDO +What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? +Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce +A thievish living on the common road? +This I must do, or know not what to do: +Yet this I will not do, do how I can; +I rather will subject me to the malice +Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. + +ADAM +But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, +The thrifty hire I saved under your father, +Which I did store to be my foster-nurse +When service should in my old limbs lie lame +And unregarded age in corners thrown: +Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, +Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, +Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold; +And all this I give you. Let me be your servant: +Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; +For in my youth I never did apply +Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, +Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo +The means of weakness and debility; +Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, +Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; +I'll do the service of a younger man +In all your business and necessities. + +ORLANDO +O good old man, how well in thee appears +The constant service of the antique world, +When service sweat for duty, not for meed! +Thou art not for the fashion of these times, +Where none will sweat but for promotion, +And having that, do choke their service up +Even with the having: it is not so with thee. +But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree, +That cannot so much as a blossom yield +In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry +But come thy ways; well go along together, +And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, +We'll light upon some settled low content. + +ADAM +Master, go on, and I will follow thee, +To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. +From seventeen years till now almost fourscore +Here lived I, but now live here no more. +At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; +But at fourscore it is too late a week: +Yet fortune cannot recompense me better +Than to die well and not my master's debtor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE +ROSALIND +O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! + +TOUCHSTONE +I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. + +ROSALIND +I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's +apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort +the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show +itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage, +good Aliena! + +CELIA +I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further. + +TOUCHSTONE +For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear +you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, +for I think you have no money in your purse. + +ROSALIND +Well, this is the forest of Arden. + +TOUCHSTONE +Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home, I was in a better place: but travellers +must be content. + +ROSALIND +Ay, be so, good Touchstone. + +Enter CORIN and SILVIUS + +Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in +solemn talk. + +CORIN +That is the way to make her scorn you still. + +SILVIUS +O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! + +CORIN +I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. + +SILVIUS +No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, +Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover +As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: +But if thy love were ever like to mine-- +As sure I think did never man love so-- +How many actions most ridiculous +Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? + +CORIN +Into a thousand that I have forgotten. + +SILVIUS +O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! +If thou remember'st not the slightest folly +That ever love did make thee run into, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, +Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not broke from company +Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, +Thou hast not loved. +O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, +I have by hard adventure found mine own. + +TOUCHSTONE +And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke +my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for +coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the +kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her +pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the +wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took +two cods and, giving her them again, said with +weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are +true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is +mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. + +ROSALIND +Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I +break my shins against it. + +ROSALIND +Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion +Is much upon my fashion. + +TOUCHSTONE +And mine; but it grows something stale with me. + +CELIA +I pray you, one of you question yond man +If he for gold will give us any food: +I faint almost to death. + +TOUCHSTONE +Holla, you clown! + +ROSALIND +Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. + +CORIN +Who calls? + +TOUCHSTONE +Your betters, sir. + +CORIN +Else are they very wretched. + +ROSALIND +Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. + +CORIN +And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. + +ROSALIND +I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold +Can in this desert place buy entertainment, +Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: +Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd +And faints for succor. + +CORIN +Fair sir, I pity her +And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, +My fortunes were more able to relieve her; +But I am shepherd to another man +And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: +My master is of churlish disposition +And little recks to find the way to heaven +By doing deeds of hospitality: +Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed +Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, +By reason of his absence, there is nothing +That you will feed on; but what is, come see. +And in my voice most welcome shall you be. + +ROSALIND +What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? + +CORIN +That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, +That little cares for buying any thing. + +ROSALIND +I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, +Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, +And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. + +CELIA +And we will mend thy wages. I like this place. +And willingly could waste my time in it. + +CORIN +Assuredly the thing is to be sold: +Go with me: if you like upon report +The soil, the profit and this kind of life, +I will your very faithful feeder be +And buy it with your gold right suddenly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The Forest. + +Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others +SONG. + +AMIENS +Under the greenwood tree +Who loves to lie with me, +And turn his merry note +Unto the sweet bird's throat, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +More, more, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck +melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. +More, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. + +JAQUES +I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to +sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos? + +AMIENS +What you will, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me +nothing. Will you sing? + +AMIENS +More at your request than to please myself. + +JAQUES +Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; +but that they call compliment is like the encounter +of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily, +methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me +the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will +not, hold your tongues. + +AMIENS +Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the +duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all +this day to look you. + +JAQUES +And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is +too disputable for my company: I think of as many +matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no +boast of them. Come, warble, come. +SONG. +Who doth ambition shun + +All together here + +And loves to live i' the sun, +Seeking the food he eats +And pleased with what he gets, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +I'll give you a verse to this note that I made +yesterday in despite of my invention. + +AMIENS +And I'll sing it. + +JAQUES +Thus it goes:-- +If it do come to pass +That any man turn ass, +Leaving his wealth and ease, +A stubborn will to please, +Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: +Here shall he see +Gross fools as he, +An if he will come to me. + +AMIENS +What's that 'ducdame'? + +JAQUES +'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a +circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll +rail against all the first-born of Egypt. + +AMIENS +And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE VI. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ADAM +Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! +Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, +kind master. + +ORLANDO +Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live +a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. +If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I +will either be food for it or bring it for food to +thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. +For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at +the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently; +and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will +give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I +come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! +thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. +Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear +thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for +lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this +desert. Cheerly, good Adam! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The forest. + +A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws +DUKE SENIOR +I think he be transform'd into a beast; +For I can no where find him like a man. + +First Lord +My lord, he is but even now gone hence: +Here was he merry, hearing of a song. + +DUKE SENIOR +If he, compact of jars, grow musical, +We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. +Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him. + +Enter JAQUES + +First Lord +He saves my labour by his own approach. + +DUKE SENIOR +Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, +That your poor friends must woo your company? +What, you look merrily! + +JAQUES +A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, +A motley fool; a miserable world! +As I do live by food, I met a fool +Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, +And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, +In good set terms and yet a motley fool. +'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he, +'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:' +And then he drew a dial from his poke, +And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, +Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: +Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags: +'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, +And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; +And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, +And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; +And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear +The motley fool thus moral on the time, +My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, +That fools should be so deep-contemplative, +And I did laugh sans intermission +An hour by his dial. O noble fool! +A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. + +DUKE SENIOR +What fool is this? + +JAQUES +O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, +And says, if ladies be but young and fair, +They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, +Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit +After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd +With observation, the which he vents +In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! +I am ambitious for a motley coat. + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou shalt have one. + +JAQUES +It is my only suit; +Provided that you weed your better judgments +Of all opinion that grows rank in them +That I am wise. I must have liberty +Withal, as large a charter as the wind, +To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; +And they that are most galled with my folly, +They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so? +The 'why' is plain as way to parish church: +He that a fool doth very wisely hit +Doth very foolishly, although he smart, +Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, +The wise man's folly is anatomized +Even by the squandering glances of the fool. +Invest me in my motley; give me leave +To speak my mind, and I will through and through +Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, +If they will patiently receive my medicine. + +DUKE SENIOR +Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. + +JAQUES +What, for a counter, would I do but good? + +DUKE SENIOR +Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: +For thou thyself hast been a libertine, +As sensual as the brutish sting itself; +And all the embossed sores and headed evils, +That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, +Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. + +JAQUES +Why, who cries out on pride, +That can therein tax any private party? +Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, +Till that the weary very means do ebb? +What woman in the city do I name, +When that I say the city-woman bears +The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? +Who can come in and say that I mean her, +When such a one as she such is her neighbour? +Or what is he of basest function +That says his bravery is not of my cost, +Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits +His folly to the mettle of my speech? +There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein +My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, +Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free, +Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, +Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here? + +Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn + +ORLANDO +Forbear, and eat no more. + +JAQUES +Why, I have eat none yet. + +ORLANDO +Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. + +JAQUES +Of what kind should this cock come of? + +DUKE SENIOR +Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, +Or else a rude despiser of good manners, +That in civility thou seem'st so empty? + +ORLANDO +You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point +Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show +Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred +And know some nurture. But forbear, I say: +He dies that touches any of this fruit +Till I and my affairs are answered. + +JAQUES +An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. + +DUKE SENIOR +What would you have? Your gentleness shall force +More than your force move us to gentleness. + +ORLANDO +I almost die for food; and let me have it. + +DUKE SENIOR +Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. + +ORLANDO +Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: +I thought that all things had been savage here; +And therefore put I on the countenance +Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are +That in this desert inaccessible, +Under the shade of melancholy boughs, +Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time +If ever you have look'd on better days, +If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, +If ever sat at any good man's feast, +If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear +And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, +Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: +In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. + +DUKE SENIOR +True is it that we have seen better days, +And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church +And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes +Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: +And therefore sit you down in gentleness +And take upon command what help we have +That to your wanting may be minister'd. + +ORLANDO +Then but forbear your food a little while, +Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn +And give it food. There is an old poor man, +Who after me hath many a weary step +Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed, +Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, +I will not touch a bit. + +DUKE SENIOR +Go find him out, +And we will nothing waste till you return. + +ORLANDO +I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: +This wide and universal theatre +Presents more woeful pageants than the scene +Wherein we play in. + +JAQUES +All the world's a stage, +And all the men and women merely players: +They have their exits and their entrances; +And one man in his time plays many parts, +His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, +Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. +And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel +And shining morning face, creeping like snail +Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, +Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad +Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, +Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, +Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, +Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, +In fair round belly with good capon lined, +With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, +Full of wise saws and modern instances; +And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts +Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, +With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, +His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide +For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, +Turning again toward childish treble, pipes +And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, +That ends this strange eventful history, +Is second childishness and mere oblivion, +Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + +Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen, +And let him feed. + +ORLANDO +I thank you most for him. + +ADAM +So had you need: +I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you +As yet, to question you about your fortunes. +Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. +SONG. + +AMIENS +Blow, blow, thou winter wind. +Thou art not so unkind +As man's ingratitude; +Thy tooth is not so keen, +Because thou art not seen, +Although thy breath be rude. +Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: +Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: +Then, heigh-ho, the holly! +This life is most jolly. +Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, +That dost not bite so nigh +As benefits forgot: +Though thou the waters warp, +Thy sting is not so sharp +As friend remember'd not. +Heigh-ho! sing, & c. + +DUKE SENIOR +If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, +As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, +And as mine eye doth his effigies witness +Most truly limn'd and living in your face, +Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke +That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, +Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, +Thou art right welcome as thy master is. +Support him by the arm. Give me your hand, +And let me all your fortunes understand. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER +DUKE FREDERICK +Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: +But were I not the better part made mercy, +I should not seek an absent argument +Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: +Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is; +Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living +Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more +To seek a living in our territory. +Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine +Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, +Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth +Of what we think against thee. + +OLIVER +O that your highness knew my heart in this! +I never loved my brother in my life. + +DUKE FREDERICK +More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; +And let my officers of such a nature +Make an extent upon his house and lands: +Do this expediently and turn him going. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO, with a paper +ORLANDO +Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: +And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey +With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, +Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. +O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books +And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; +That every eye which in this forest looks +Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. +Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree +The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CORIN +And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone? + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good +life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, +it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I +like it very well; but in respect that it is +private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it +is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in +respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As +is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; +but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much +against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? + +CORIN +No more but that I know the more one sickens the +worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, +means and content is without three good friends; +that the property of rain is to wet and fire to +burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a +great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that +he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may +complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred. + +TOUCHSTONE +Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in +court, shepherd? + +CORIN +No, truly. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then thou art damned. + +CORIN +Nay, I hope. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all +on one side. + +CORIN +For not being at court? Your reason. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest +good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, +then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is +sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous +state, shepherd. + +CORIN +Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners +at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the +behavior of the country is most mockable at the +court. You told me you salute not at the court, but +you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be +uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds. + +TOUCHSTONE +Instance, briefly; come, instance. + +CORIN +Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their +fells, you know, are greasy. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not +the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of +a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come. + +CORIN +Besides, our hands are hard. + +TOUCHSTONE +Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. +A more sounder instance, come. + +CORIN +And they are often tarred over with the surgery of +our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The +courtier's hands are perfumed with civet. + +TOUCHSTONE +Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a +good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and +perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the +very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. + +CORIN +You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man! +God make incision in thee! thou art raw. + +CORIN +Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get +that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's +happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my +harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes +graze and my lambs suck. + +TOUCHSTONE +That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes +and the rams together and to offer to get your +living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a +bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a +twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, +out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not +damned for this, the devil himself will have no +shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst +'scape. + +CORIN +Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. + +Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading + +ROSALIND +From the east to western Ind, +No jewel is like Rosalind. +Her worth, being mounted on the wind, +Through all the world bears Rosalind. +All the pictures fairest lined +Are but black to Rosalind. +Let no fair be kept in mind +But the fair of Rosalind. + +TOUCHSTONE +I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and +suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the +right butter-women's rank to market. + +ROSALIND +Out, fool! + +TOUCHSTONE +For a taste: +If a hart do lack a hind, +Let him seek out Rosalind. +If the cat will after kind, +So be sure will Rosalind. +Winter garments must be lined, +So must slender Rosalind. +They that reap must sheaf and bind; +Then to cart with Rosalind. +Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, +Such a nut is Rosalind. +He that sweetest rose will find +Must find love's prick and Rosalind. +This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you +infect yourself with them? + +ROSALIND +Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. + +ROSALIND +I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it +with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit +i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half +ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. + +TOUCHSTONE +You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the +forest judge. + +Enter CELIA, with a writing + +ROSALIND +Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside. + +CELIA +[Reads] +Why should this a desert be? +For it is unpeopled? No: +Tongues I'll hang on every tree, +That shall civil sayings show: +Some, how brief the life of man +Runs his erring pilgrimage, +That the stretching of a span +Buckles in his sum of age; +Some, of violated vows +'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: +But upon the fairest boughs, +Or at every sentence end, +Will I Rosalinda write, +Teaching all that read to know +The quintessence of every sprite +Heaven would in little show. +Therefore Heaven Nature charged +That one body should be fill'd +With all graces wide-enlarged: +Nature presently distill'd +Helen's cheek, but not her heart, +Cleopatra's majesty, +Atalanta's better part, +Sad Lucretia's modesty. +Thus Rosalind of many parts +By heavenly synod was devised, +Of many faces, eyes and hearts, +To have the touches dearest prized. +Heaven would that she these gifts should have, +And I to live and die her slave. + +ROSALIND +O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love +have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never +cried 'Have patience, good people!' + +CELIA +How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little. +Go with him, sirrah. + +TOUCHSTONE +Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; +though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. + +Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +Didst thou hear these verses? + +ROSALIND +O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of +them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. + +CELIA +That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear +themselves without the verse and therefore stood +lamely in the verse. + +CELIA +But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name +should be hanged and carved upon these trees? + +ROSALIND +I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder +before you came; for look here what I found on a +palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since +Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I +can hardly remember. + +CELIA +Trow you who hath done this? + +ROSALIND +Is it a man? + +CELIA +And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. +Change you colour? + +ROSALIND +I prithee, who? + +CELIA +O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to +meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes +and so encounter. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but who is it? + +CELIA +Is it possible? + +ROSALIND +Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence, +tell me who it is. + +CELIA +O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful +wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, +out of all hooping! + +ROSALIND +Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am +caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in +my disposition? One inch of delay more is a +South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it +quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst +stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man +out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- +mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at +all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that +may drink thy tidings. + +CELIA +So you may put a man in your belly. + +ROSALIND +Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his +head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? + +CELIA +Nay, he hath but a little beard. + +ROSALIND +Why, God will send more, if the man will be +thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if +thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. + +CELIA +It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's +heels and your heart both in an instant. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and +true maid. + +CELIA +I' faith, coz, 'tis he. + +ROSALIND +Orlando? + +CELIA +Orlando. + +ROSALIND +Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and +hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said +he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes +him here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? +How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see +him again? Answer me in one word. + +CELIA +You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a +word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To +say ay and no to these particulars is more than to +answer in a catechism. + +ROSALIND +But doth he know that I am in this forest and in +man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the +day he wrestled? + +CELIA +It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the +propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my +finding him, and relish it with good observance. +I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. + +ROSALIND +It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops +forth such fruit. + +CELIA +Give me audience, good madam. + +ROSALIND +Proceed. + +CELIA +There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight. + +ROSALIND +Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well +becomes the ground. + +CELIA +Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets +unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. + +ROSALIND +O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. + +CELIA +I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest +me out of tune. + +ROSALIND +Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must +speak. Sweet, say on. + +CELIA +You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? + +Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES + +ROSALIND +'Tis he: slink by, and note him. + +JAQUES +I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had +as lief have been myself alone. + +ORLANDO +And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you +too for your society. + +JAQUES +God be wi' you: let's meet as little as we can. + +ORLANDO +I do desire we may be better strangers. + +JAQUES +I pray you, mar no more trees with writing +love-songs in their barks. + +ORLANDO +I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading +them ill-favouredly. + +JAQUES +Rosalind is your love's name? + +ORLANDO +Yes, just. + +JAQUES +I do not like her name. + +ORLANDO +There was no thought of pleasing you when she was +christened. + +JAQUES +What stature is she of? + +ORLANDO +Just as high as my heart. + +JAQUES +You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been +acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them +out of rings? + +ORLANDO +Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from +whence you have studied your questions. + +JAQUES +You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of +Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and +we two will rail against our mistress the world and +all our misery. + +ORLANDO +I will chide no breather in the world but myself, +against whom I know most faults. + +JAQUES +The worst fault you have is to be in love. + +ORLANDO +'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. +I am weary of you. + +JAQUES +By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found +you. + +ORLANDO +He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you +shall see him. + +JAQUES +There I shall see mine own figure. + +ORLANDO +Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. + +JAQUES +I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good +Signior Love. + +ORLANDO +I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur +Melancholy. + +Exit JAQUES + +ROSALIND +[Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy +lackey and under that habit play the knave with him. +Do you hear, forester? + +ORLANDO +Very well: what would you? + +ROSALIND +I pray you, what is't o'clock? + +ORLANDO +You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock +in the forest. + +ROSALIND +Then there is no true lover in the forest; else +sighing every minute and groaning every hour would +detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock. + +ORLANDO +And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that +been as proper? + +ROSALIND +By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with +divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles +withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops +withal and who he stands still withal. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, who doth he trot withal? + +ROSALIND +Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the +contract of her marriage and the day it is +solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, +Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of +seven year. + +ORLANDO +Who ambles Time withal? + +ROSALIND +With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that +hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because +he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because +he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean +and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden +of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal. + +ORLANDO +Who doth he gallop withal? + +ROSALIND +With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as +softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. + +ORLANDO +Who stays it still withal? + +ROSALIND +With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between +term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves. + +ORLANDO +Where dwell you, pretty youth? + +ROSALIND +With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the +skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. + +ORLANDO +Are you native of this place? + +ROSALIND +As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled. + +ORLANDO +Your accent is something finer than you could +purchase in so removed a dwelling. + +ROSALIND +I have been told so of many: but indeed an old +religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was +in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship +too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard +him read many lectures against it, and I thank God +I am not a woman, to be touched with so many +giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their +whole sex withal. + +ORLANDO +Can you remember any of the principal evils that he +laid to the charge of women? + +ROSALIND +There were none principal; they were all like one +another as half-pence are, every one fault seeming +monstrous till his fellow fault came to match it. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, recount some of them. + +ROSALIND +No, I will not cast away my physic but on those that +are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that +abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on +their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies +on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of +Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would +give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the +quotidian of love upon him. + +ORLANDO +I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me +your remedy. + +ROSALIND +There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he +taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage +of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner. + +ORLANDO +What were his marks? + +ROSALIND +A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and +sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable +spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected, +which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for +simply your having in beard is a younger brother's +revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your +bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe +untied and every thing about you demonstrating a +careless desolation; but you are no such man; you +are rather point-device in your accoutrements as +loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other. + +ORLANDO +Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love. + +ROSALIND +Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you +love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to +do than to confess she does: that is one of the +points in the which women still give the lie to +their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he +that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind +is so admired? + +ORLANDO +I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of +Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. + +ROSALIND +But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak? + +ORLANDO +Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. + +ROSALIND +Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves +as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and +the reason why they are not so punished and cured +is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers +are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. + +ORLANDO +Did you ever cure any so? + +ROSALIND +Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me +his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to +woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish +youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing +and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, +inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every +passion something and for no passion truly any +thing, as boys and women are for the most part +cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe +him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep +for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor +from his mad humour of love to a living humour of +madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of +the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic. +And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon +me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's +heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't. + +ORLANDO +I would not be cured, youth. + +ROSALIND +I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind +and come every day to my cote and woo me. + +ORLANDO +Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me +where it is. + +ROSALIND +Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way +you shall tell me where in the forest you live. +Will you go? + +ORLANDO +With all my heart, good youth. + +ROSALIND +Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go? + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind +TOUCHSTONE +Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your +goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? +doth my simple feature content you? + +AUDREY +Your features! Lord warrant us! what features! + +TOUCHSTONE +I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most +capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths. + +JAQUES +[Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove +in a thatched house! + +TOUCHSTONE +When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a +man's good wit seconded with the forward child +Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a +great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee poetical. + +AUDREY +I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in +deed and word? is it a true thing? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most +feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what +they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign. + +AUDREY +Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical? + +TOUCHSTONE +I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art +honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some +hope thou didst feign. + +AUDREY +Would you not have me honest? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for +honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar. + +JAQUES +[Aside] A material fool! + +AUDREY +Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods +make me honest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut +were to put good meat into an unclean dish. + +AUDREY +I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul. + +TOUCHSTONE +Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! +sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may +be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been +with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next +village, who hath promised to meet me in this place +of the forest and to couple us. + +JAQUES +[Aside] I would fain see this meeting. + +AUDREY +Well, the gods give us joy! + +TOUCHSTONE +Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, +stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple +but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what +though? C ourage! As horns are odious, they are +necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of +his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and +knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of +his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns? +Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer +hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man +therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more +worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a +married man more honourable than the bare brow of a +bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no +skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to +want. Here comes Sir Oliver. + +Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT + +Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you +dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go +with you to your chapel? + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Is there none here to give the woman? + +TOUCHSTONE +I will not take her on gift of any man. + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful. + +JAQUES +[Advancing] +Proceed, proceed I'll give her. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, good Master What-ye-call't: how do you, +sir? You are very well met: God 'ild you for your +last company: I am very glad to see you: even a +toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered. + +JAQUES +Will you be married, motley? + +TOUCHSTONE +As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and +the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and +as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling. + +JAQUES +And will you, being a man of your breeding, be +married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to +church, and have a good priest that can tell you +what marriage is: this fellow will but join you +together as they join wainscot; then one of you will +prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp. + +TOUCHSTONE +[Aside] I am not in the mind but I were better to be +married of him than of another: for he is not like +to marry me well; and not being well married, it +will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. + +JAQUES +Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Come, sweet Audrey: +We must be married, or we must live in bawdry. +Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,-- +O sweet Oliver, +O brave Oliver, +Leave me not behind thee: but,-- +Wind away, +Begone, I say, +I will not to wedding with thee. + +Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them +all shall flout me out of my calling. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +Never talk to me; I will weep. + +CELIA +Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider +that tears do not become a man. + +ROSALIND +But have I not cause to weep? + +CELIA +As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. + +ROSALIND +His very hair is of the dissembling colour. + +CELIA +Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are +Judas's own children. + +ROSALIND +I' faith, his hair is of a good colour. + +CELIA +An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour. + +ROSALIND +And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch +of holy bread. + +CELIA +He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun +of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; +the very ice of chastity is in them. + +ROSALIND +But why did he swear he would come this morning, and +comes not? + +CELIA +Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. + +ROSALIND +Do you think so? + +CELIA +Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a +horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do +think him as concave as a covered goblet or a +worm-eaten nut. + +ROSALIND +Not true in love? + +CELIA +Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in. + +ROSALIND +You have heard him swear downright he was. + +CELIA +'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is +no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are +both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends +here in the forest on the duke your father. + +ROSALIND +I met the duke yesterday and had much question with +him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told +him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go. +But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a +man as Orlando? + +CELIA +O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, +speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks +them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of +his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse +but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble +goose: but all's brave that youth mounts and folly +guides. Who comes here? + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Mistress and master, you have oft inquired +After the shepherd that complain'd of love, +Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, +Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess +That was his mistress. + +CELIA +Well, and what of him? + +CORIN +If you will see a pageant truly play'd, +Between the pale complexion of true love +And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, +Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, +If you will mark it. + +ROSALIND +O, come, let us remove: +The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. +Bring us to this sight, and you shall say +I'll prove a busy actor in their play. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the forest. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe; +Say that you love me not, but say not so +In bitterness. The common executioner, +Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard, +Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck +But first begs pardon: will you sterner be +Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, behind + +PHEBE +I would not be thy executioner: +I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. +Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: +'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, +That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, +Who shut their coward gates on atomies, +Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! +Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; +And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee: +Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; +Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, +Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! +Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee: +Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains +Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, +The cicatrice and capable impressure +Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes, +Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, +Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes +That can do hurt. + +SILVIUS +O dear Phebe, +If ever,--as that ever may be near,-- +You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, +Then shall you know the wounds invisible +That love's keen arrows make. + +PHEBE +But till that time +Come not thou near me: and when that time comes, +Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; +As till that time I shall not pity thee. + +ROSALIND +And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, +That you insult, exult, and all at once, +Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,-- +As, by my faith, I see no more in you +Than without candle may go dark to bed-- +Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? +Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? +I see no more in you than in the ordinary +Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, +I think she means to tangle my eyes too! +No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it: +'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, +Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, +That can entame my spirits to your worship. +You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, +Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? +You are a thousand times a properer man +Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you +That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children: +'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; +And out of you she sees herself more proper +Than any of her lineaments can show her. +But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees, +And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: +For I must tell you friendly in your ear, +Sell when you can: you are not for all markets: +Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer: +Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. +So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well. + +PHEBE +Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together: +I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. + +ROSALIND +He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll +fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as +she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her +with bitter words. Why look you so upon me? + +PHEBE +For no ill will I bear you. + +ROSALIND +I pray you, do not fall in love with me, +For I am falser than vows made in wine: +Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, +'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. +Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. +Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better, +And be not proud: though all the world could see, +None could be so abused in sight as he. +Come, to our flock. + +Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN + +PHEBE +Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, +'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe,-- + +PHEBE +Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, pity me. + +PHEBE +Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. + +SILVIUS +Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: +If you do sorrow at my grief in love, +By giving love your sorrow and my grief +Were both extermined. + +PHEBE +Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly? + +SILVIUS +I would have you. + +PHEBE +Why, that were covetousness. +Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, +And yet it is not that I bear thee love; +But since that thou canst talk of love so well, +Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, +I will endure, and I'll employ thee too: +But do not look for further recompense +Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd. + +SILVIUS +So holy and so perfect is my love, +And I in such a poverty of grace, +That I shall think it a most plenteous crop +To glean the broken ears after the man +That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then +A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. + +PHEBE +Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile? + +SILVIUS +Not very well, but I have met him oft; +And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds +That the old carlot once was master of. + +PHEBE +Think not I love him, though I ask for him: +'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; +But what care I for words? yet words do well +When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. +It is a pretty youth: not very pretty: +But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him: +He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him +Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue +Did make offence his eye did heal it up. +He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: +His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: +There was a pretty redness in his lip, +A little riper and more lusty red +Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference +Between the constant red and mingled damask. +There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him +In parcels as I did, would have gone near +To fall in love with him; but, for my part, +I love him not nor hate him not; and yet +I have more cause to hate him than to love him: +For what had he to do to chide at me? +He said mine eyes were black and my hair black: +And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: +I marvel why I answer'd not again: +But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. +I'll write to him a very taunting letter, +And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Phebe, with all my heart. + +PHEBE +I'll write it straight; +The matter's in my head and in my heart: +I will be bitter with him and passing short. +Go with me, Silvius. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES +JAQUES +I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted +with thee. + +ROSALIND +They say you are a melancholy fellow. + +JAQUES +I am so; I do love it better than laughing. + +ROSALIND +Those that are in extremity of either are abominable +fellows and betray themselves to every modern +censure worse than drunkards. + +JAQUES +Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. + +ROSALIND +Why then, 'tis good to be a post. + +JAQUES +I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is +emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical, +nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the +soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, +which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor +the lover's, which is all these: but it is a +melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, +extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's +contemplation of my travels, in which my often +rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness. + +ROSALIND +A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to +be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see +other men's; then, to have seen much and to have +nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. + +JAQUES +Yes, I have gained my experience. + +ROSALIND +And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have +a fool to make me merry than experience to make me +sad; and to travel for it too! + +Enter ORLANDO + +ORLANDO +Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! + +JAQUES +Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and +wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your +own country, be out of love with your nativity and +almost chide God for making you that countenance you +are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a +gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been +all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such +another trick, never come in my sight more. + +ORLANDO +My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. + +ROSALIND +Break an hour's promise in love! He that will +divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but +a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the +affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid +hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant +him heart-whole. + +ORLANDO +Pardon me, dear Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I +had as lief be wooed of a snail. + +ORLANDO +Of a snail? + +ROSALIND +Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he +carries his house on his head; a better jointure, +I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings +his destiny with him. + +ORLANDO +What's that? + +ROSALIND +Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be +beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in +his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife. + +ORLANDO +Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. + +ROSALIND +And I am your Rosalind. + +CELIA +It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a +Rosalind of a better leer than you. + +ROSALIND +Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday +humour and like enough to consent. What would you +say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I would kiss before I spoke. + +ROSALIND +Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were +gravelled for lack of matter, you might take +occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are +out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking--God +warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. + +ORLANDO +How if the kiss be denied? + +ROSALIND +Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. + +ORLANDO +Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? + +ROSALIND +Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or +I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. + +ORLANDO +What, of my suit? + +ROSALIND +Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. +Am not I your Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I take some joy to say you are, because I would be +talking of her. + +ROSALIND +Well in her person I say I will not have you. + +ORLANDO +Then in mine own person I die. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is +almost six thousand years old, and in all this time +there was not any man died in his own person, +videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains +dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he +could to die before, and he is one of the patterns +of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair +year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been +for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went +but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being +taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish +coroners of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos.' +But these are all lies: men have died from time to +time and worms have eaten them, but not for love. + +ORLANDO +I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, +for, I protest, her frown might kill me. + +ROSALIND +By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now +I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on +disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant +it. + +ORLANDO +Then love me, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all. + +ORLANDO +And wilt thou have me? + +ROSALIND +Ay, and twenty such. + +ORLANDO +What sayest thou? + +ROSALIND +Are you not good? + +ORLANDO +I hope so. + +ROSALIND +Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? +Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. +Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister? + +ORLANDO +Pray thee, marry us. + +CELIA +I cannot say the words. + +ROSALIND +You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--' + +CELIA +Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I will. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but when? + +ORLANDO +Why now; as fast as she can marry us. + +ROSALIND +Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.' + +ORLANDO +I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. + +ROSALIND +I might ask you for your commission; but I do take +thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes +before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought +runs before her actions. + +ORLANDO +So do all thoughts; they are winged. + +ROSALIND +Now tell me how long you would have her after you +have possessed her. + +ORLANDO +For ever and a day. + +ROSALIND +Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; +men are April when they woo, December when they wed: +maids are May when they are maids, but the sky +changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous +of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, +more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more +new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires +than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana +in the fountain, and I will do that when you are +disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and +that when thou art inclined to sleep. + +ORLANDO +But will my Rosalind do so? + +ROSALIND +By my life, she will do as I do. + +ORLANDO +O, but she is wise. + +ROSALIND +Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the +wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's +wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and +'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly +with the smoke out at the chimney. + +ORLANDO +A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say +'Wit, whither wilt?' + +ROSALIND +Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met +your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. + +ORLANDO +And what wit could wit have to excuse that? + +ROSALIND +Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall +never take her without her answer, unless you take +her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot +make her fault her husband's occasion, let her +never nurse her child herself, for she will breed +it like a fool! + +ORLANDO +For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. + +ROSALIND +Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. + +ORLANDO +I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I +will be with thee again. + +ROSALIND +Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you +would prove: my friends told me as much, and I +thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours +won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come, +death! Two o'clock is your hour? + +ORLANDO +Ay, sweet Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend +me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, +if you break one jot of your promise or come one +minute behind your hour, I will think you the most +pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover +and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that +may be chosen out of the gross band of the +unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep +your promise. + +ORLANDO +With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my +Rosalind: so adieu. + +ROSALIND +Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such +offenders, and let Time try: adieu. + +Exit ORLANDO + +CELIA +You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate: +we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your +head, and show the world what the bird hath done to +her own nest. + +ROSALIND +O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou +didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But +it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown +bottom, like the bay of Portugal. + +CELIA +Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour +affection in, it runs out. + +ROSALIND +No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot +of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness, +that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes +because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I +am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out +of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and +sigh till he come. + +CELIA +And I'll sleep. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters +JAQUES +Which is he that killed the deer? + +A Lord +Sir, it was I. + +JAQUES +Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman +conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's +horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have +you no song, forester, for this purpose? + +Forester +Yes, sir. + +JAQUES +Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it +make noise enough. +SONG. + +Forester +What shall he have that kill'd the deer? +His leather skin and horns to wear. +Then sing him home; + +The rest shall bear this burden + +Take thou no scorn to wear the horn; +It was a crest ere thou wast born: +Thy father's father wore it, +And thy father bore it: +The horn, the horn, the lusty horn +Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and +here much Orlando! + +CELIA +I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he +hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to +sleep. Look, who comes here. + +Enter SILVIUS + +SILVIUS +My errand is to you, fair youth; +My gentle Phebe bid me give you this: +I know not the contents; but, as I guess +By the stern brow and waspish action +Which she did use as she was writing of it, +It bears an angry tenor: pardon me: +I am but as a guiltless messenger. + +ROSALIND +Patience herself would startle at this letter +And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: +She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; +She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, +Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will! +Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: +Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, +This is a letter of your own device. + +SILVIUS +No, I protest, I know not the contents: +Phebe did write it. + +ROSALIND +Come, come, you are a fool +And turn'd into the extremity of love. +I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand. +A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think +That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands: +She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter: +I say she never did invent this letter; +This is a man's invention and his hand. + +SILVIUS +Sure, it is hers. + +ROSALIND +Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style. +A style for-challengers; why, she defies me, +Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain +Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention +Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect +Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter? + +SILVIUS +So please you, for I never heard it yet; +Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. + +ROSALIND +She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. + +Reads + +Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, +That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? +Can a woman rail thus? + +SILVIUS +Call you this railing? + +ROSALIND +[Reads] +Why, thy godhead laid apart, +Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? +Did you ever hear such railing? +Whiles the eye of man did woo me, +That could do no vengeance to me. +Meaning me a beast. +If the scorn of your bright eyne +Have power to raise such love in mine, +Alack, in me what strange effect +Would they work in mild aspect! +Whiles you chid me, I did love; +How then might your prayers move! +He that brings this love to thee +Little knows this love in me: +And by him seal up thy mind; +Whether that thy youth and kind +Will the faithful offer take +Of me and all that I can make; +Or else by him my love deny, +And then I'll study how to die. + +SILVIUS +Call you this chiding? + +CELIA +Alas, poor shepherd! + +ROSALIND +Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt +thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an +instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to +be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see +love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to +her: that if she love me, I charge her to love +thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless +thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, +hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. + +Exit SILVIUS + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, +Where in the purlieus of this forest stands +A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees? + +CELIA +West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom: +The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream +Left on your right hand brings you to the place. +But at this hour the house doth keep itself; +There's none within. + +OLIVER +If that an eye may profit by a tongue, +Then should I know you by description; +Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair, +Of female favour, and bestows himself +Like a ripe sister: the woman low +And browner than her brother.' Are not you +The owner of the house I did inquire for? + +CELIA +It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are. + +OLIVER +Orlando doth commend him to you both, +And to that youth he calls his Rosalind +He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? + +ROSALIND +I am: what must we understand by this? + +OLIVER +Some of my shame; if you will know of me +What man I am, and how, and why, and where +This handkercher was stain'd. + +CELIA +I pray you, tell it. + +OLIVER +When last the young Orlando parted from you +He left a promise to return again +Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, +Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, +Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside, +And mark what object did present itself: +Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age +And high top bald with dry antiquity, +A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, +Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck +A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, +Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd +The opening of his mouth; but suddenly, +Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, +And with indented glides did slip away +Into a bush: under which bush's shade +A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, +Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, +When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis +The royal disposition of that beast +To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: +This seen, Orlando did approach the man +And found it was his brother, his elder brother. + +CELIA +O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; +And he did render him the most unnatural +That lived amongst men. + +OLIVER +And well he might so do, +For well I know he was unnatural. + +ROSALIND +But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, +Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? + +OLIVER +Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; +But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, +And nature, stronger than his just occasion, +Made him give battle to the lioness, +Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling +From miserable slumber I awaked. + +CELIA +Are you his brother? + +ROSALIND +Wast you he rescued? + +CELIA +Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? + +OLIVER +'Twas I; but 'tis not I I do not shame +To tell you what I was, since my conversion +So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. + +ROSALIND +But, for the bloody napkin? + +OLIVER +By and by. +When from the first to last betwixt us two +Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, +As how I came into that desert place:-- +In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, +Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, +Committing me unto my brother's love; +Who led me instantly unto his cave, +There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm +The lioness had torn some flesh away, +Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted +And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. +Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound; +And, after some small space, being strong at heart, +He sent me hither, stranger as I am, +To tell this story, that you might excuse +His broken promise, and to give this napkin +Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth +That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. + +ROSALIND swoons + +CELIA +Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Many will swoon when they do look on blood. + +CELIA +There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Look, he recovers. + +ROSALIND +I would I were at home. + +CELIA +We'll lead you thither. +I pray you, will you take him by the arm? + +OLIVER +Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a +man's heart. + +ROSALIND +I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would +think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell +your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho! + +OLIVER +This was not counterfeit: there is too great +testimony in your complexion that it was a passion +of earnest. + +ROSALIND +Counterfeit, I assure you. + +OLIVER +Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man. + +ROSALIND +So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. + +CELIA +Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw +homewards. Good sir, go with us. + +OLIVER +That will I, for I must bear answer back +How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend +my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. + +AUDREY +Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old +gentleman's saying. + +TOUCHSTONE +A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile +Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the +forest lays claim to you. + +AUDREY +Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in +the world: here comes the man you mean. + +TOUCHSTONE +It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my +troth, we that have good wits have much to answer +for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. + +Enter WILLIAM + +WILLIAM +Good even, Audrey. + +AUDREY +God ye good even, William. + +WILLIAM +And good even to you, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy +head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend? + +WILLIAM +Five and twenty, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A ripe age. Is thy name William? + +WILLIAM +William, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I thank God. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich? + +WILLIAM +Faith, sir, so so. + +TOUCHSTONE +'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and +yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying, +'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man +knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen +philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, +would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; +meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and +lips to open. You do love this maid? + +WILLIAM +I do, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +WILLIAM +No, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it +is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out +of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty +the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse +is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he. + +WILLIAM +Which he, sir? + +TOUCHSTONE +He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you +clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the +society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this +female,--which in the common is woman; which +together is, abandon the society of this female, or, +clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better +understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make +thee away, translate thy life into death, thy +liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with +thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy +with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with +policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: +therefore tremble and depart. + +AUDREY +Do, good William. + +WILLIAM +God rest you merry, sir. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away! + +TOUCHSTONE +Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER +ORLANDO +Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you +should like her? that but seeing you should love +her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should +grant? and will you persever to enjoy her? + +OLIVER +Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the +poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden +wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, +I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me; +consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it +shall be to your good; for my father's house and all +the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I +estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd. + +ORLANDO +You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: +thither will I invite the duke and all's contented +followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look +you, here comes my Rosalind. + +Enter ROSALIND + +ROSALIND +God save you, brother. + +OLIVER +And you, fair sister. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee +wear thy heart in a scarf! + +ORLANDO +It is my arm. + +ROSALIND +I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws +of a lion. + +ORLANDO +Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. + +ROSALIND +Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to +swoon when he showed me your handkerchief? + +ORLANDO +Ay, and greater wonders than that. + +ROSALIND +O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was +never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams +and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and +overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner +met but they looked, no sooner looked but they +loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner +sighed but they asked one another the reason, no +sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; +and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs +to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or +else be incontinent before marriage: they are in +the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs +cannot part them. + +ORLANDO +They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the +duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it +is to look into happiness through another man's +eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at +the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall +think my brother happy in having what he wishes for. + +ROSALIND +Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I can live no longer by thinking. + +ROSALIND +I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. +Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose, +that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I +speak not this that you should bear a good opinion +of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are; +neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in +some little measure draw a belief from you, to do +yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if +you please, that I can do strange things: I have, +since I was three year old, conversed with a +magician, most profound in his art and yet not +damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart +as your gesture cries it out, when your brother +marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into +what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is +not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient +to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human +as she is and without any danger. + +ORLANDO +Speakest thou in sober meanings? + +ROSALIND +By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I +say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your +best array: bid your friends; for if you will be +married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE + +Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. + +PHEBE +Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, +To show the letter that I writ to you. + +ROSALIND +I care not if I have: it is my study +To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: +You are there followed by a faithful shepherd; +Look upon him, love him; he worships you. + +PHEBE +Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of sighs and tears; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of faith and service; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of fantasy, +All made of passion and all made of wishes, +All adoration, duty, and observance, +All humbleness, all patience and impatience, +All purity, all trial, all observance; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And so am I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And so am I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And so am I for no woman. + +PHEBE +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +SILVIUS +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ORLANDO +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ROSALIND +Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?' + +ORLANDO +To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. + +ROSALIND +Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling +of Irish wolves against the moon. + +To SILVIUS + +I will help you, if I can: + +To PHEBE + +I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together. + +To PHEBE + +I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be +married to-morrow: + +To ORLANDO + +I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you +shall be married to-morrow: + +To SILVIUS + +I will content you, if what pleases you contents +you, and you shall be married to-morrow. + +To ORLANDO + +As you love Rosalind, meet: + +To SILVIUS + +as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman, +I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands. + +SILVIUS +I'll not fail, if I live. + +PHEBE +Nor I. + +ORLANDO +Nor I. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will +we be married. + +AUDREY +I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is +no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the +world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages. + +Enter two Pages + +First Page +Well met, honest gentleman. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song. + +Second Page +We are for you: sit i' the middle. + +First Page +Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or +spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only +prologues to a bad voice? + +Second Page +I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two +gipsies on a horse. +SONG. +It was a lover and his lass, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +That o'er the green corn-field did pass +In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, +When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: +Sweet lovers love the spring. +Between the acres of the rye, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino +These pretty country folks would lie, +In spring time, & c. +This carol they began that hour, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +How that a life was but a flower +In spring time, & c. +And therefore take the present time, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; +For love is crowned with the prime +In spring time, & c. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great +matter in the ditty, yet the note was very +untuneable. + +First Page +You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear +such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend +your voices! Come, Audrey. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA +DUKE SENIOR +Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy +Can do all this that he hath promised? + +ORLANDO +I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; +As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. + +Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE + +ROSALIND +Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged: +You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, +You will bestow her on Orlando here? + +DUKE SENIOR +That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. + +ROSALIND +And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? + +ORLANDO +That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. + +ROSALIND +You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? + +PHEBE +That will I, should I die the hour after. + +ROSALIND +But if you do refuse to marry me, +You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? + +PHEBE +So is the bargain. + +ROSALIND +You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? + +SILVIUS +Though to have her and death were both one thing. + +ROSALIND +I have promised to make all this matter even. +Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter; +You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter: +Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, +Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd: +Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her. +If she refuse me: and from hence I go, +To make these doubts all even. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +DUKE SENIOR +I do remember in this shepherd boy +Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. + +ORLANDO +My lord, the first time that I ever saw him +Methought he was a brother to your daughter: +But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, +And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments +Of many desperate studies by his uncle, +Whom he reports to be a great magician, +Obscured in the circle of this forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +JAQUES +There is, sure, another flood toward, and these +couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of +very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. + +TOUCHSTONE +Salutation and greeting to you all! + +JAQUES +Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the +motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in +the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears. + +TOUCHSTONE +If any man doubt that, let him put me to my +purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered +a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth +with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have +had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. + +JAQUES +And how was that ta'en up? + +TOUCHSTONE +Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the +seventh cause. + +JAQUES +How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow. + +DUKE SENIOR +I like him very well. + +TOUCHSTONE +God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I +press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country +copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as +marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin, +sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor +humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else +will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a +poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. + +DUKE SENIOR +By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. + +TOUCHSTONE +According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. + +JAQUES +But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the +quarrel on the seventh cause? + +TOUCHSTONE +Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more +seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the +cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, +if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the +mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous. +If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he +would send me word, he cut it to please himself: +this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was +not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is +called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this +is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the +Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie +Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. + +JAQUES +And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut? + +TOUCHSTONE +I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, +nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we +measured swords and parted. + +JAQUES +Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? + +TOUCHSTONE +O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have +books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. +The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the +Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the +fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the +Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with +Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All +these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may +avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven +justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the +parties were met themselves, one of them thought but +of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and +they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the +only peacemaker; much virtue in If. + +JAQUES +Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at +any thing and yet a fool. + +DUKE SENIOR +He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under +the presentation of that he shoots his wit. + +Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA + +Still Music + +HYMEN +Then is there mirth in heaven, +When earthly things made even +Atone together. +Good duke, receive thy daughter +Hymen from heaven brought her, +Yea, brought her hither, +That thou mightst join her hand with his +Whose heart within his bosom is. + +ROSALIND +[To DUKE SENIOR] To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +To ORLANDO + +To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +DUKE SENIOR +If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. + +ORLANDO +If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. + +PHEBE +If sight and shape be true, +Why then, my love adieu! + +ROSALIND +I'll have no father, if you be not he: +I'll have no husband, if you be not he: +Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. + +HYMEN +Peace, ho! I bar confusion: +'Tis I must make conclusion +Of these most strange events: +Here's eight that must take hands +To join in Hymen's bands, +If truth holds true contents. +You and you no cross shall part: +You and you are heart in heart +You to his love must accord, +Or have a woman to your lord: +You and you are sure together, +As the winter to foul weather. +Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, +Feed yourselves with questioning; +That reason wonder may diminish, +How thus we met, and these things finish. +SONG. +Wedding is great Juno's crown: +O blessed bond of board and bed! +'Tis Hymen peoples every town; +High wedlock then be honoured: +Honour, high honour and renown, +To Hymen, god of every town! + +DUKE SENIOR +O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me! +Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree. + +PHEBE +I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; +Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. + +Enter JAQUES DE BOYS + +JAQUES DE BOYS +Let me have audience for a word or two: +I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, +That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. +Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day +Men of great worth resorted to this forest, +Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot, +In his own conduct, purposely to take +His brother here and put him to the sword: +And to the skirts of this wild wood he came; +Where meeting with an old religious man, +After some question with him, was converted +Both from his enterprise and from the world, +His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, +And all their lands restored to them again +That were with him exiled. This to be true, +I do engage my life. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome, young man; +Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: +To one his lands withheld, and to the other +A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. +First, in this forest, let us do those ends +That here were well begun and well begot: +And after, every of this happy number +That have endured shrewd days and nights with us +Shall share the good of our returned fortune, +According to the measure of their states. +Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity +And fall into our rustic revelry. +Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, +With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall. + +JAQUES +Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly, +The duke hath put on a religious life +And thrown into neglect the pompous court? + +JAQUES DE BOYS +He hath. + +JAQUES +To him will I : out of these convertites +There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. + +To DUKE SENIOR + +You to your former honour I bequeath; +Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: + +To ORLANDO + +You to a love that your true faith doth merit: + +To OLIVER + +You to your land and love and great allies: + +To SILVIUS + +You to a long and well-deserved bed: + +To TOUCHSTONE + +And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage +Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures: +I am for other than for dancing measures. + +DUKE SENIOR +Stay, Jaques, stay. + +JAQUES +To see no pastime I what you would have +I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, +As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. + +A dance + +EPILOGUE + +ROSALIND +It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; +but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord +the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs +no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no +epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, +and good plays prove the better by the help of good +epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am +neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with +you in the behalf of a good play! I am not +furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not +become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin +with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love +you bear to men, to like as much of this play as +please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love +you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering, +none of you hates them--that between you and the +women the play may please. If I were a woman I +would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased +me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I +defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good +beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my +kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. + +Exeunt +The Comedy of Errors +Shakespeare homepage | Comedy of Errors | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace. + +Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants +AEGEON +Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall +And by the doom of death end woes and all. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more; +I am not partial to infringe our laws: +The enmity and discord which of late +Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke +To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, +Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives +Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, +Excludes all pity from our threatening looks. +For, since the mortal and intestine jars +'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, +It hath in solemn synods been decreed +Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, +To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more, +If any born at Ephesus be seen +At any Syracusian marts and fairs; +Again: if any Syracusian born +Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, +His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose, +Unless a thousand marks be levied, +To quit the penalty and to ransom him. +Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, +Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; +Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. + +AEGEON +Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, +My woes end likewise with the evening sun. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause +Why thou departed'st from thy native home +And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus. + +AEGEON +A heavier task could not have been imposed +Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: +Yet, that the world may witness that my end +Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, +I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave. +In Syracusa was I born, and wed +Unto a woman, happy but for me, +And by me, had not our hap been bad. +With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased +By prosperous voyages I often made +To Epidamnum; till my factor's death +And the great care of goods at random left +Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse: +From whom my absence was not six months old +Before herself, almost at fainting under +The pleasing punishment that women bear, +Had made provision for her following me +And soon and safe arrived where I was. +There had she not been long, but she became +A joyful mother of two goodly sons; +And, which was strange, the one so like the other, +As could not be distinguish'd but by names. +That very hour, and in the self-same inn, +A meaner woman was delivered +Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: +Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,-- +I bought and brought up to attend my sons. +My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, +Made daily motions for our home return: +Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon, +We came aboard. +A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, +Before the always wind-obeying deep +Gave any tragic instance of our harm: +But longer did we not retain much hope; +For what obscured light the heavens did grant +Did but convey unto our fearful minds +A doubtful warrant of immediate death; +Which though myself would gladly have embraced, +Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, +Weeping before for what she saw must come, +And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, +That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, +Forced me to seek delays for them and me. +And this it was, for other means was none: +The sailors sought for safety by our boat, +And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us: +My wife, more careful for the latter-born, +Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, +Such as seafaring men provide for storms; +To him one of the other twins was bound, +Whilst I had been like heedful of the other: +The children thus disposed, my wife and I, +Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, +Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast; +And floating straight, obedient to the stream, +Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. +At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, +Dispersed those vapours that offended us; +And by the benefit of his wished light, +The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered +Two ships from far making amain to us, +Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: +But ere they came,--O, let me say no more! +Gather the sequel by that went before. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so; +For we may pity, though not pardon thee. + +AEGEON +O, had the gods done so, I had not now +Worthily term'd them merciless to us! +For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, +We were encounterd by a mighty rock; +Which being violently borne upon, +Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; +So that, in this unjust divorce of us, +Fortune had left to both of us alike +What to delight in, what to sorrow for. +Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened +With lesser weight but not with lesser woe, +Was carried with more speed before the wind; +And in our sight they three were taken up +By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. +At length, another ship had seized on us; +And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, +Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests; +And would have reft the fishers of their prey, +Had not their bark been very slow of sail; +And therefore homeward did they bend their course. +Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; +That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, +To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. + +DUKE SOLINUS +And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, +Do me the favour to dilate at full +What hath befall'n of them and thee till now. + +AEGEON +My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, +At eighteen years became inquisitive +After his brother: and importuned me +That his attendant--so his case was like, +Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name-- +Might bear him company in the quest of him: +Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, +I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. +Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, +Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, +And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; +Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought +Or that or any place that harbours men. +But here must end the story of my life; +And happy were I in my timely death, +Could all my travels warrant me they live. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd +To bear the extremity of dire mishap! +Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, +Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, +Which princes, would they, may not disannul, +My soul would sue as advocate for thee. +But, though thou art adjudged to the death +And passed sentence may not be recall'd +But to our honour's great disparagement, +Yet I will favour thee in what I can. +Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day +To seek thy life by beneficial help: +Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; +Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, +And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die. +Gaoler, take him to thy custody. + +Gaoler +I will, my lord. + +AEGEON +Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend, +But to procrastinate his lifeless end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Mart. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant +First Merchant +Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, +Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. +This very day a Syracusian merchant +Is apprehended for arrival here; +And not being able to buy out his life +According to the statute of the town, +Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. +There is your money that I had to keep. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, +And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. +Within this hour it will be dinner-time: +Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, +Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, +And then return and sleep within mine inn, +For with long travel I am stiff and weary. +Get thee away. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Many a man would take you at your word, +And go indeed, having so good a mean. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, +When I am dull with care and melancholy, +Lightens my humour with his merry jests. +What, will you walk with me about the town, +And then go to my inn and dine with me? + +First Merchant +I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, +Of whom I hope to make much benefit; +I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, +Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart +And afterward consort you till bed-time: +My present business calls me from you now. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Farewell till then: I will go lose myself +And wander up and down to view the city. + +First Merchant +Sir, I commend you to your own content. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +He that commends me to mine own content +Commends me to the thing I cannot get. +I to the world am like a drop of water +That in the ocean seeks another drop, +Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, +Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: +So I, to find a mother and a brother, +In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +Here comes the almanac of my true date. +What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late: +The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, +The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; +My mistress made it one upon my cheek: +She is so hot because the meat is cold; +The meat is cold because you come not home; +You come not home because you have no stomach; +You have no stomach having broke your fast; +But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray +Are penitent for your default to-day. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: +Where have you left the money that I gave you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last +To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? +The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I am not in a sportive humour now: +Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? +We being strangers here, how darest thou trust +So great a charge from thine own custody? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner: +I from my mistress come to you in post; +If I return, I shall be post indeed, +For she will score your fault upon my pate. +Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock, +And strike you home without a messenger. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; +Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. +Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, +And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +My charge was but to fetch you from the mart +Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: +My mistress and her sister stays for you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, +Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours +That stands on tricks when I am undisposed: +Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I have some marks of yours upon my pate, +Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, +But not a thousand marks between you both. +If I should pay your worship those again, +Perchance you will not bear them patiently. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; +She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, +And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, +Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! +Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Upon my life, by some device or other +The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. +They say this town is full of cozenage, +As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, +Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, +Soul-killing witches that deform the body, +Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, +And many such-like liberties of sin: +If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. +I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: +I greatly fear my money is not safe. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA +ADRIANA +Neither my husband nor the slave return'd, +That in such haste I sent to seek his master! +Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. + +LUCIANA +Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, +And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. +Good sister, let us dine and never fret: +A man is master of his liberty: +Time is their master, and, when they see time, +They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister. + +ADRIANA +Why should their liberty than ours be more? + +LUCIANA +Because their business still lies out o' door. + +ADRIANA +Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. + +LUCIANA +O, know he is the bridle of your will. + +ADRIANA +There's none but asses will be bridled so. + +LUCIANA +Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. +There's nothing situate under heaven's eye +But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: +The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, +Are their males' subjects and at their controls: +Men, more divine, the masters of all these, +Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, +Indued with intellectual sense and souls, +Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, +Are masters to their females, and their lords: +Then let your will attend on their accords. + +ADRIANA +This servitude makes you to keep unwed. + +LUCIANA +Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. + +ADRIANA +But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. + +LUCIANA +Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. + +ADRIANA +How if your husband start some other where? + +LUCIANA +Till he come home again, I would forbear. + +ADRIANA +Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; +They can be meek that have no other cause. +A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, +We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; +But were we burdened with like weight of pain, +As much or more would we ourselves complain: +So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, +With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, +But, if thou live to see like right bereft, +This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. + +LUCIANA +Well, I will marry one day, but to try. +Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +ADRIANA +Say, is your tardy master now at hand? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears +can witness. + +ADRIANA +Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: +Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. + +LUCIANA +Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his +blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce +understand them. + +ADRIANA +But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he +hath great care to please his wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. + +ADRIANA +Horn-mad, thou villain! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I mean not cuckold-mad; +But, sure, he is stark mad. +When I desired him to come home to dinner, +He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: +''Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he; +'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he: +'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he. +'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?' +'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he: +'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress! +I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!' + +LUCIANA +Quoth who? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Quoth my master: +'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' +So that my errand, due unto my tongue, +I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; +For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. + +ADRIANA +Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Go back again, and be new beaten home? +For God's sake, send some other messenger. + +ADRIANA +Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And he will bless that cross with other beating: +Between you I shall have a holy head. + +ADRIANA +Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Am I so round with you as you with me, +That like a football you do spurn me thus? +You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: +If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. + +Exit + +LUCIANA +Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! + +ADRIANA +His company must do his minions grace, +Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. +Hath homely age the alluring beauty took +From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: +Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? +If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, +Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard: +Do their gay vestments his affections bait? +That's not my fault: he's master of my state: +What ruins are in me that can be found, +By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground +Of my defeatures. My decayed fair +A sunny look of his would soon repair +But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale +And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. + +LUCIANA +Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence! + +ADRIANA +Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. +I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, +Or else what lets it but he would be here? +Sister, you know he promised me a chain; +Would that alone, alone he would detain, +So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! +I see the jewel best enamelled +Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, +That others touch, and often touching will +Wear gold: and no man that hath a name, +By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. +Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, +I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. + +LUCIANA +How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up +Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave +Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out +By computation and mine host's report. +I could not speak with Dromio since at first +I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. + +Enter DROMIO of Syracuse + +How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd? +As you love strokes, so jest with me again. +You know no Centaur? you received no gold? +Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? +My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, +That thus so madly thou didst answer me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Even now, even here, not half an hour since. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I did not see you since you sent me hence, +Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, +And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; +For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am glad to see you in this merry vein: +What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? +Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. + +Beating him + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest: +Upon what bargain do you give it me? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Because that I familiarly sometimes +Do use you for my fool and chat with you, +Your sauciness will jest upon my love +And make a common of my serious hours. +When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, +But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. +If you will jest with me, know my aspect, +And fashion your demeanor to my looks, +Or I will beat this method in your sconce. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I +had rather have it a head: an you use these blows +long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce +it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. +But, I pray, sir why am I beaten? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Dost thou not know? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Shall I tell you why? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath +a wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore-- +For urging it the second time to me. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, +When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme +nor reason? +Well, sir, I thank you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thank me, sir, for what? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for +something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In good time, sir; what's that? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Your reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another +dry basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By what rule, sir? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald +pate of father Time himself. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Let's hear it. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +There's no time for a man to recover his hair that +grows bald by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +May he not do it by fine and recovery? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the +lost hair of another man. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, +so plentiful an excrement? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; +and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth +it in a kind of jollity. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +For what reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +For two; and sound ones too. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sound, I pray you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sure ones, then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Certain ones then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Name them. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The one, to save the money that he spends in +trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not +drop in his porridge. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +You would all this time have proved there is no +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair +lost by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +But your reason was not substantial, why there is no +time to recover. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore +to the world's end will have bald followers. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: +But, soft! who wafts us yonder? + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA + +ADRIANA +Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown: +Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects; +I am not Adriana nor thy wife. +The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow +That never words were music to thine ear, +That never object pleasing in thine eye, +That never touch well welcome to thy hand, +That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste, +Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee. +How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it, +That thou art thus estranged from thyself? +Thyself I call it, being strange to me, +That, undividable, incorporate, +Am better than thy dear self's better part. +Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! +For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall +A drop of water in the breaking gulf, +And take unmingled that same drop again, +Without addition or diminishing, +As take from me thyself and not me too. +How dearly would it touch me to the quick, +Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious +And that this body, consecrate to thee, +By ruffian lust should be contaminate! +Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me +And hurl the name of husband in my face +And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow +And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring +And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? +I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it. +I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; +My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: +For if we too be one and thou play false, +I do digest the poison of thy flesh, +Being strumpeted by thy contagion. +Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed; +I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: +In Ephesus I am but two hours old, +As strange unto your town as to your talk; +Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, +Want wit in all one word to understand. + +LUCIANA +Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you! +When were you wont to use my sister thus? +She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +By me? + +ADRIANA +By thee; and this thou didst return from him, +That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, +Denied my house for his, me for his wife. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? +What is the course and drift of your compact? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir? I never saw her till this time. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou liest; for even her very words +Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I never spake with her in all my life. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +How can she thus then call us by our names, +Unless it be by inspiration. + +ADRIANA +How ill agrees it with your gravity +To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, +Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! +Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, +But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. +Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: +Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, +Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, +Makes me with thy strength to communicate: +If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, +Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; +Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion +Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: +What, was I married to her in my dream? +Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? +What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? +Until I know this sure uncertainty, +I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. + +LUCIANA +Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. +This is the fairy land: O spite of spites! +We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: +If we obey them not, this will ensue, +They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. + +LUCIANA +Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? +Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am transformed, master, am I not? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I think thou art in mind, and so am I. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thou hast thine own form. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, I am an ape. + +LUCIANA +If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass. +'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be +But I should know her as well as she knows me. + +ADRIANA +Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, +To put the finger in the eye and weep, +Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. +Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. +Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day +And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. +Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, +Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. +Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? +Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? +Known unto these, and to myself disguised! +I'll say as they say and persever so, +And in this mist at all adventures go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, shall I be porter at the gate? + +ADRIANA +Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. + +LUCIANA +Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; +My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: +Say that I linger'd with you at your shop +To see the making of her carcanet, +And that to-morrow you will bring it home. +But here's a villain that would face me down +He met me on the mart, and that I beat him, +And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, +And that I did deny my wife and house. +Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know; +That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: +If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, +Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +I think thou art an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Marry, so it doth appear +By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. +I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass, +You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer +May answer my good will and your good welcome here. + +BALTHAZAR +I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your +welcome dear. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, +A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish. + +BALTHAZAR +Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. + +BALTHAZAR +Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: +But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; +Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. +But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, +idiot, patch! +Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch. +Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st +for such store, +When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What patch is made our porter? My master stays in +the street. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he +catch cold on's feet. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Who talks within there? ho, open the door! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell +me wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Nor to-day here you must not; come again +when you may. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] The porter for this time, sir, and my name +is Dromio. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name. +The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. +If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, +Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy +name for an ass. + +LUCE +[Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those +at the gate? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Let my master in, Luce. + +LUCE +[Within] Faith, no; he comes too late; +And so tell your master. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O Lord, I must laugh! +Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff? + +LUCE +[Within] Have at you with another; that's--When? +can you tell? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast +answered him well. + +ANTIPHOLUS +Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? +OF EPHESUS + +LUCE +[Within] I thought to have asked you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] And you said no. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Thou baggage, let me in. + +LUCE +[Within] Can you tell for whose sake? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, knock the door hard. + +LUCE +[Within] Let him knock till it ache. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. + +LUCE +[Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? + +ADRIANA +[Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all +this noise? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with +unruly boys. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Are you there, wife? you might have come before. + +ADRIANA +[Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore. + +ANGELO +Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would +fain have either. + +BALTHAZAR +In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. +Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: +It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your +knave's pate. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind, +Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon +thee, hind! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee, +let me in. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? +For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather; +If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. + +BALTHAZAR +Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so! +Herein you war against your reputation +And draw within the compass of suspect +The unviolated honour of your wife. +Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom, +Her sober virtue, years and modesty, +Plead on her part some cause to you unknown: +And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse +Why at this time the doors are made against you. +Be ruled by me: depart in patience, +And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, +And about evening come yourself alone +To know the reason of this strange restraint. +If by strong hand you offer to break in +Now in the stirring passage of the day, +A vulgar comment will be made of it, +And that supposed by the common rout +Against your yet ungalled estimation +That may with foul intrusion enter in +And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; +For slander lives upon succession, +For ever housed where it gets possession. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet, +And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. +I know a wench of excellent discourse, +Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle: +There will we dine. This woman that I mean, +My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- +Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal: +To her will we to dinner. + +To Angelo + +Get you home +And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made: +Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine; +For there's the house: that chain will I bestow-- +Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-- +Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste. +Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, +I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. + +The First part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others +KING HENRY IV +So shaken as we are, so wan with care, +Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, +And breathe short-winded accents of new broils +To be commenced in strands afar remote. +No more the thirsty entrance of this soil +Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; +Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, +Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs +Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, +Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, +All of one nature, of one substance bred, +Did lately meet in the intestine shock +And furious close of civil butchery +Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, +March all one way and be no more opposed +Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: +The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, +No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, +As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, +Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross +We are impressed and engaged to fight, +Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; +Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb +To chase these pagans in those holy fields +Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet +Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd +For our advantage on the bitter cross. +But this our purpose now is twelve month old, +And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: +Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear +Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, +What yesternight our council did decree +In forwarding this dear expedience. + +WESTMORELAND +My liege, this haste was hot in question, +And many limits of the charge set down +But yesternight: when all athwart there came +A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; +Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, +Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight +Against the irregular and wild Glendower, +Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, +A thousand of his people butchered; +Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, +Such beastly shameless transformation, +By those Welshwomen done as may not be +Without much shame retold or spoken of. + +KING HENRY IV +It seems then that the tidings of this broil +Brake off our business for the Holy Land. + +WESTMORELAND +This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; +For more uneven and unwelcome news +Came from the north and thus it did import: +On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there, +Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald, +That ever-valiant and approved Scot, +At Holmedon met, +Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour, +As by discharge of their artillery, +And shape of likelihood, the news was told; +For he that brought them, in the very heat +And pride of their contention did take horse, +Uncertain of the issue any way. + +KING HENRY IV +Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, +Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse. +Stain'd with the variation of each soil +Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; +And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. +The Earl of Douglas is discomfited: +Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, +Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see +On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took +Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son +To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, +Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith: +And is not this an honourable spoil? +A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? + +WESTMORELAND +In faith, +It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. + +KING HENRY IV +Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin +In envy that my Lord Northumberland +Should be the father to so blest a son, +A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; +Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; +Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: +Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, +See riot and dishonour stain the brow +Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved +That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged +In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, +And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! +Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. +But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, +Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, +Which he in this adventure hath surprised, +To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, +I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. + +WESTMORELAND +This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester, +Malevolent to you in all aspects; +Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up +The crest of youth against your dignity. + +KING HENRY IV +But I have sent for him to answer this; +And for this cause awhile we must neglect +Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. +Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we +Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: +But come yourself with speed to us again; +For more is to be said and to be done +Than out of anger can be uttered. + +WESTMORELAND +I will, my liege. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. + +Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF +FALSTAFF +Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack +and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon +benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to +demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. +What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the +day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes +capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the +signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself +a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no +reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand +the time of the day. + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take +purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not +by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And, +I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God +save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace +thou wilt have none,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, none? + +FALSTAFF +No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to +prologue to an egg and butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. + +FALSTAFF +Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not +us that are squires of the night's body be called +thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's +foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the +moon; and let men say we be men of good government, +being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and +chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the +fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and +flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, +by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold +most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most +dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with +swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;' +now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder +and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my +hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? + +PRINCE HENRY +As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And +is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? + +FALSTAFF +How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and +thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a +buff jerkin? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a +time and oft. + +PRINCE HENRY +Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? + +FALSTAFF +No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; +and where it would not, I have used my credit. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent +that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet +wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when +thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is +with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do +not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. + +PRINCE HENRY +No; thou shalt. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have +the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. + +FALSTAFF +Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my +humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell +you. + +PRINCE HENRY +For obtaining of suits? + +FALSTAFF +Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman +hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy +as a gib cat or a lugged bear. + +PRINCE HENRY +Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. + +PRINCE HENRY +What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of +Moor-ditch? + +FALSTAFF +Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed +the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young +prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more +with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a +commodity of good names were to be bought. An old +lord of the council rated me the other day in the +street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet +he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and +yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the +streets, and no man regards it. + +FALSTAFF +O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able +to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon +me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew +thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man +should speak truly, little better than one of the +wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give +it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: +I'll be damned for never a king's son in +Christendom. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I +do not, call me villain and baffle me. + +PRINCE HENRY +I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying +to purse-taking. + +FALSTAFF +Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a +man to labour in his vocation. + +Enter POINS + +Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a +match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what +hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the +most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to +a true man. + +PRINCE HENRY +Good morrow, Ned. + +POINS +Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? +what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how +agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou +soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira +and a cold capon's leg? + +PRINCE HENRY +Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have +his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of +proverbs: he will give the devil his due. + +POINS +Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. + +PRINCE HENRY +Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. + +POINS +But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four +o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going +to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders +riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards +for you all; you have horses for yourselves: +Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke +supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it +as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff +your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry +at home and be hanged. + +FALSTAFF +Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, +I'll hang you for going. + +POINS +You will, chops? + +FALSTAFF +Hal, wilt thou make one? + +PRINCE HENRY +Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. + +FALSTAFF +There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good +fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood +royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. + +FALSTAFF +Why, that's well said. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. + +PRINCE HENRY +I care not. + +POINS +Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: +I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure +that he shall go. + +FALSTAFF +Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him +the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may +move and what he hears may be believed, that the +true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false +thief; for the poor abuses of the time want +countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! + +Exit Falstaff + +POINS +Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us +to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot +manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill +shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: +yourself and I will not be there; and when they +have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut +this head off from my shoulders. + +PRINCE HENRY +How shall we part with them in setting forth? + +POINS +Why, we will set forth before or after them, and +appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at +our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure +upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have +no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our +horses, by our habits and by every other +appointment, to be ourselves. + +POINS +Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them +in the wood; our vizards we will change after we +leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram +for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. + +POINS +Well, for two of them, I know them to be as +true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the +third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll +forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the +incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will +tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at +least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what +extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this +lies the jest. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things +necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; +there I'll sup. Farewell. + +POINS +Farewell, my lord. + +Exit Poins + +PRINCE HENRY +I know you all, and will awhile uphold +The unyoked humour of your idleness: +Yet herein will I imitate the sun, +Who doth permit the base contagious clouds +To smother up his beauty from the world, +That, when he please again to be himself, +Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, +By breaking through the foul and ugly mists +Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. +If all the year were playing holidays, +To sport would be as tedious as to work; +But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, +And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. +So, when this loose behavior I throw off +And pay the debt I never promised, +By how much better than my word I am, +By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; +And like bright metal on a sullen ground, +My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, +Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes +Than that which hath no foil to set it off. +I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; +Redeeming time when men think least I will. + +Exit + +SCENE III. London. The palace. + +Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others +KING HENRY IV +My blood hath been too cold and temperate, +Unapt to stir at these indignities, +And you have found me; for accordingly +You tread upon my patience: but be sure +I will from henceforth rather be myself, +Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition; +Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, +And therefore lost that title of respect +Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves +The scourge of greatness to be used on it; +And that same greatness too which our own hands +Have holp to make so portly. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord.-- + +KING HENRY IV +Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see +Danger and disobedience in thine eye: +O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, +And majesty might never yet endure +The moody frontier of a servant brow. +You have good leave to leave us: when we need +Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. + +Exit Worcester + +You were about to speak. + +To North + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, my good lord. +Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded, +Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, +Were, as he says, not with such strength denied +As is deliver'd to your majesty: +Either envy, therefore, or misprison +Is guilty of this fault and not my son. + +HOTSPUR +My liege, I did deny no prisoners. +But I remember, when the fight was done, +When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, +Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, +Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, +Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd +Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; +He was perfumed like a milliner; +And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held +A pouncet-box, which ever and anon +He gave his nose and took't away again; +Who therewith angry, when it next came there, +Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, +And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, +He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly, +To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse +Betwixt the wind and his nobility. +With many holiday and lady terms +He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded +My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. +I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, +To be so pester'd with a popinjay, +Out of my grief and my impatience, +Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, +He should or he should not; for he made me mad +To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet +And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman +Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!-- +And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth +Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; +And that it was great pity, so it was, +This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd +Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, +Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd +So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, +He would himself have been a soldier. +This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, +I answer'd indirectly, as I said; +And I beseech you, let not his report +Come current for an accusation +Betwixt my love and your high majesty. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, +Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said +To such a person and in such a place, +At such a time, with all the rest retold, +May reasonably die and never rise +To do him wrong or any way impeach +What then he said, so he unsay it now. + +KING HENRY IV +Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, +But with proviso and exception, +That we at our own charge shall ransom straight +His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; +Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd +The lives of those that he did lead to fight +Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower, +Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March +Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then, +Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? +Shall we but treason? and indent with fears, +When they have lost and forfeited themselves? +No, on the barren mountains let him starve; +For I shall never hold that man my friend +Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost +To ransom home revolted Mortimer. + +HOTSPUR +Revolted Mortimer! +He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, +But by the chance of war; to prove that true +Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, +Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took +When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, +In single opposition, hand to hand, +He did confound the best part of an hour +In changing hardiment with great Glendower: +Three times they breathed and three times did +they drink, +Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; +Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, +Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, +And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, +Bloodstained with these valiant combatants. +Never did base and rotten policy +Colour her working with such deadly wounds; +Nor could the noble Mortimer +Receive so many, and all willingly: +Then let not him be slander'd with revolt. + +KING HENRY IV +Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him; +He never did encounter with Glendower: +I tell thee, +He durst as well have met the devil alone +As Owen Glendower for an enemy. +Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth +Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer: +Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, +Or you shall hear in such a kind from me +As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, +We licence your departure with your son. +Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. + +Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train + +HOTSPUR +An if the devil come and roar for them, +I will not send them: I will after straight +And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, +Albeit I make a hazard of my head. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile: +Here comes your uncle. + +Re-enter WORCESTER + +HOTSPUR +Speak of Mortimer! +'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul +Want mercy, if I do not join with him: +Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, +And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, +But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer +As high in the air as this unthankful king, +As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Who struck this heat up after I was gone? + +HOTSPUR +He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; +And when I urged the ransom once again +Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, +And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, +Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd +By Richard that dead is the next of blood? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He was; I heard the proclamation: +And then it was when the unhappy king, +--Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth +Upon his Irish expedition; +From whence he intercepted did return +To be deposed and shortly murdered. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth +Live scandalized and foully spoken of. + +HOTSPUR +But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then +Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer +Heir to the crown? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He did; myself did hear it. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, +That wished him on the barren mountains starve. +But shall it be that you, that set the crown +Upon the head of this forgetful man +And for his sake wear the detested blot +Of murderous subornation, shall it be, +That you a world of curses undergo, +Being the agents, or base second means, +The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? +O, pardon me that I descend so low, +To show the line and the predicament +Wherein you range under this subtle king; +Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, +Or fill up chronicles in time to come, +That men of your nobility and power +Did gage them both in an unjust behalf, +As both of you--God pardon it!--have done, +To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, +An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? +And shall it in more shame be further spoken, +That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off +By him for whom these shames ye underwent? +No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem +Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves +Into the good thoughts of the world again, +Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt +Of this proud king, who studies day and night +To answer all the debt he owes to you +Even with the bloody payment of your deaths: +Therefore, I say-- + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Peace, cousin, say no more: +And now I will unclasp a secret book, +And to your quick-conceiving discontents +I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, +As full of peril and adventurous spirit +As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud +On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. + +HOTSPUR +If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: +Send danger from the east unto the west, +So honour cross it from the north to south, +And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs +To rouse a lion than to start a hare! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Imagination of some great exploit +Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. + +HOTSPUR +By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, +To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, +Or dive into the bottom of the deep, +Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, +And pluck up drowned honour by the locks; +So he that doth redeem her thence might wear +Without corrival, all her dignities: +But out upon this half-faced fellowship! + +EARL OF WORCESTER +He apprehends a world of figures here, +But not the form of what he should attend. +Good cousin, give me audience for a while. + +HOTSPUR +I cry you mercy. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Those same noble Scots +That are your prisoners,-- + +HOTSPUR +I'll keep them all; +By God, he shall not have a Scot of them; +No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: +I'll keep them, by this hand. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +You start away +And lend no ear unto my purposes. +Those prisoners you shall keep. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, I will; that's flat: +He said he would not ransom Mortimer; +Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; +But I will find him when he lies asleep, +And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!' +Nay, +I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak +Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him +To keep his anger still in motion. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Hear you, cousin; a word. + +HOTSPUR +All studies here I solemnly defy, +Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: +And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, +But that I think his father loves him not +And would be glad he met with some mischance, +I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you +When you are better temper'd to attend. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool +Art thou to break into this woman's mood, +Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! + +HOTSPUR +Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods, +Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear +Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. +In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?-- +A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire; +'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, +His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee +Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,-- +'Sblood!-- +When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +At Berkley castle. + +HOTSPUR +You say true: +Why, what a candy deal of courtesy +This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! +Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,' +And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;' +O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me! +Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Nay, if you have not, to it again; +We will stay your leisure. + +HOTSPUR +I have done, i' faith. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. +Deliver them up without their ransom straight, +And make the Douglas' son your only mean +For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons +Which I shall send you written, be assured, +Will easily be granted. You, my lord, + +To Northumberland + +Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, +Shall secretly into the bosom creep +Of that same noble prelate, well beloved, +The archbishop. + +HOTSPUR +Of York, is it not? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +True; who bears hard +His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. +I speak not this in estimation, +As what I think might be, but what I know +Is ruminated, plotted and set down, +And only stays but to behold the face +Of that occasion that shall bring it on. + +HOTSPUR +I smell it: upon my life, it will do well. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip. + +HOTSPUR +Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot; +And then the power of Scotland and of York, +To join with Mortimer, ha? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And so they shall. + +HOTSPUR +In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, +To save our heads by raising of a head; +For, bear ourselves as even as we can, +The king will always think him in our debt, +And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, +Till he hath found a time to pay us home: +And see already how he doth begin +To make us strangers to his looks of love. + +HOTSPUR +He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Cousin, farewell: no further go in this +Than I by letters shall direct your course. +When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, +I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; +Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, +As I will fashion it, shall happily meet, +To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, +Which now we hold at much uncertainty. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust. + +HOTSPUR +Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short +Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard. + +Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand +First Carrier +Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be +hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and +yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! + +Ostler +[Within] Anon, anon. + +First Carrier +I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks +in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out +of all cess. + +Enter another Carrier + +Second Carrier +Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that +is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this +house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. + +First Carrier +Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats +rose; it was the death of him. + +Second Carrier +I think this be the most villanous house in all +London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. + +First Carrier +Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king +christen could be better bit than I have been since +the first cock. + +Second Carrier +Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we +leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds +fleas like a loach. + +First Carrier +What, ostler! come away and be hanged! + +Second Carrier +I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, +to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. + +First Carrier +God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite +starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou +never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An +'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate +on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! +hast thou no faith in thee? + +Enter GADSHILL + +GADSHILL +Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? + +First Carrier +I think it be two o'clock. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding +in the stable. + +First Carrier +Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee, lend me thine. + +Second Carrier +Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth +he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? + +Second Carrier +Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant +thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the +gentleman: they will along with company, for they +have great charge. + +Exeunt carriers + +GADSHILL +What, ho! chamberlain! + +Chamberlain +[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse. + +GADSHILL +That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the +chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking +of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; +thou layest the plot how. + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that +I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the +wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with +him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his +company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one +that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. +They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; +they will away presently. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' +clerks, I'll give thee this neck. + +Chamberlain +No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the +hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas +as truly as a man of falsehood may. + +GADSHILL +What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, +I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old +Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no +starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou +dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are +content to do the profession some grace; that would, +if matters should be looked into, for their own +credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no +foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, +none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; +but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and +great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will +strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than +drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, +I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the +commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey +on her, for they ride up and down on her and make +her their boots. + +Chamberlain +What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold +out water in foul way? + +GADSHILL +She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We +steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt +of fern-seed, we walk invisible. + +Chamberlain +Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to +the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible. + +GADSHILL +Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our +purchase, as I am a true man. + +Chamberlain +Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. + +GADSHILL +Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the +ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, +you muddy knave. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +POINS +Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's +horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. + +PRINCE HENRY +Stand close. + +Enter FALSTAFF + +FALSTAFF +Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost +thou keep! + +FALSTAFF +Where's Poins, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him. + +FALSTAFF +I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the +rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know +not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier +further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt +not but to die a fair death for all this, if I +'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have +forsworn his company hourly any time this two and +twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the +rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me +medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it +could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! +Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! +I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere +not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to +leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that +ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven +ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; +and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: +a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! + +They whistle + +Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you +rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close +to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread +of travellers. + +FALSTAFF +Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? +'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot +again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. +What a plague mean ye to colt me thus? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. + +FALSTAFF +I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, +good king's son. + +PRINCE HENRY +Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler? + +FALSTAFF +Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent +garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I +have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy +tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest +is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it. + +Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO + +GADSHILL +Stand. + +FALSTAFF +So I do, against my will. + +POINS +O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, +what news? + +BARDOLPH +Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's +money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going +to the king's exchequer. + +FALSTAFF +You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern. + +GADSHILL +There's enough to make us all. + +FALSTAFF +To be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; +Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape +from your encounter, then they light on us. + +PETO +How many be there of them? + +GADSHILL +Some eight or ten. + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, will they not rob us? + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; +but yet no coward, Hal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, we leave that to the proof. + +POINS +Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: +when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. +Farewell, and stand fast. + +FALSTAFF +Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, where are our disguises? + +POINS +Here, hard by: stand close. + +Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +FALSTAFF +Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: +every man to his business. + +Enter the Travellers + +First Traveller +Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down +the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs. + +Thieves +Stand! + +Travellers +Jesus bless us! + +FALSTAFF +Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats: +ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they +hate us youth: down with them: fleece them. + +Travellers +O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! + +FALSTAFF +Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye +fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, +bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. +You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith. + +Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt + +Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +PRINCE HENRY +The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou +and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it +would be argument for a week, laughter for a month +and a good jest for ever. + +POINS +Stand close; I hear them coming. + +Enter the Thieves again + +FALSTAFF +Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse +before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two +arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's +no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck. + +PRINCE HENRY +Your money! + +POINS +Villains! + +As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them + +PRINCE HENRY +Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: +The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear +So strongly that they dare not meet each other; +Each takes his fellow for an officer. +Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, +And lards the lean earth as he walks along: +Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him. + +POINS +How the rogue roar'd! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth castle + +Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter +HOTSPUR +'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well +contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear +your house.' He could be contented: why is he not, +then? In respect of the love he bears our house: +he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than +he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's +certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to +drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this +nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you +have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and +your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so +great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say +unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and +you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, +our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our +friends true and constant: a good plot, good +friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, +very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is +this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the +general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by +this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. +Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord +Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? +is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all +their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the +next month? and are they not some of them set +forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an +infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity +of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay +open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself +and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of +skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! +let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set +forward to-night. + +Enter LADY PERCY + +How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. + +LADY PERCY +O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? +For what offence have I this fortnight been +A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? +Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee +Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? +Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, +And start so often when thou sit'st alone? +Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; +And given my treasures and my rights of thee +To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? +In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, +And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; +Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; +Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd +Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, +Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, +Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, +Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain, +And all the currents of a heady fight. +Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war +And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, +That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow +Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; +And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, +Such as we see when men restrain their breath +On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? +Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, +And I must know it, else he loves me not. + +HOTSPUR +What, ho! + +Enter Servant + +Is Gilliams with the packet gone? + +Servant +He is, my lord, an hour ago. + +HOTSPUR +Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? + +Servant +One horse, my lord, he brought even now. + +HOTSPUR +What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? + +Servant +It is, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +That roan shall by my throne. +Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! +Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. + +Exit Servant + +LADY PERCY +But hear you, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +What say'st thou, my lady? + +LADY PERCY +What is it carries you away? + +HOTSPUR +Why, my horse, my love, my horse. + +LADY PERCY +Out, you mad-headed ape! +A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen +As you are toss'd with. In faith, +I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. +I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir +About his title, and hath sent for you +To line his enterprise: but if you go,-- + +HOTSPUR +So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. + +LADY PERCY +Come, come, you paraquito, answer me +Directly unto this question that I ask: +In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, +An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. + +HOTSPUR +Away, +Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, +I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world +To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: +We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns, +And pass them current too. God's me, my horse! +What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou +have with me? + +LADY PERCY +Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? +Well, do not then; for since you love me not, +I will not love myself. Do you not love me? +Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. + +HOTSPUR +Come, wilt thou see me ride? +And when I am on horseback, I will swear +I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; +I must not have you henceforth question me +Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: +Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, +This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. +I know you wise, but yet no farther wise +Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are, +But yet a woman: and for secrecy, +No lady closer; for I well believe +Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; +And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. + +LADY PERCY +How! so far? + +HOTSPUR +Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: +Whither I go, thither shall you go too; +To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. +Will this content you, Kate? + +LADY PERCY +It must of force. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me +thy hand to laugh a little. + +POINS +Where hast been, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four +score hogsheads. I have sounded the very +base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother +to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by +their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. +They take it already upon their salvation, that +though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king +of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, +like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a +good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I +am king of England, I shall command all the good +lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing +scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they +cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I +am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, +that I can drink with any tinker in his own language +during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost +much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet +action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of +Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped +even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that +never spake other English in his life than 'Eight +shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with +this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint +of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to +drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, +do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my +puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do +thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale +to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and +I'll show thee a precedent. + +POINS +Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art perfect. + +POINS +Francis! + +Exit POINS + +Enter FRANCIS + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph. + +PRINCE HENRY +Come hither, Francis. + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +How long hast thou to serve, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking +of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant +as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it +a fair pair of heels and run from it? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in +England, I could find in my heart. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +How old art thou, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou +gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, I would it had been two! + +PRINCE HENRY +I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me +when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon. + +PRINCE HENRY +Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; +or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when +thou wilt. But, Francis! + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button, +not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, +smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,-- + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, who do you mean? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; +for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet +will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. + +FRANCIS +What, sir? + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call? + +Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go + +Enter Vintner + +Vintner +What, standest thou still, and hearest such a +calling? Look to the guests within. + +Exit Francis + +My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are +at the door: shall I let them in? + +PRINCE HENRY +Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. + +Exit Vintner + +Poins! + +Re-enter POINS + +POINS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at +the door: shall we be merry? + +POINS +As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what +cunning match have you made with this jest of the +drawer? come, what's the issue? + +PRINCE HENRY +I am now of all humours that have showed themselves +humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the +pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. + +Re-enter FRANCIS + +What's o'clock, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +Exit + +PRINCE HENRY +That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a +parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is +upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of +a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the +Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or +seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his +hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet +life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she, +'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan +horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some +fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I +prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and +that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his +wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. + +Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO; FRANCIS following with wine + +POINS +Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been? + +FALSTAFF +A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! +marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I +lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend +them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! +Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? + +He drinks + +PRINCE HENRY +Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? +pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale +of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is +nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: +yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime +in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; +die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be +not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a +shotten herring. There live not three good men +unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and +grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say. +I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any +thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still. + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, wool-sack! what mutter you? + +FALSTAFF +A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy +kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy +subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese, +I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales! + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there? + +POINS +'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the +Lord, I'll stab thee. + +FALSTAFF +I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call +thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I +could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight +enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your +back: call you that backing of your friends? A +plague upon such backing! give me them that will +face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I +drunk to-day. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou +drunkest last. + +FALSTAFF +All's one for that. + +He drinks + +A plague of all cowards, still say I. + +PRINCE HENRY +What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +What's the matter! there be four of us here have +ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where is it, Jack? where is it? + +FALSTAFF +Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon +poor four of us. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a hundred, man? + +FALSTAFF +I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a +dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by +miracle. I am eight times thrust through the +doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut +through and through; my sword hacked like a +hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since +I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all +cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or +less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness. + +PRINCE HENRY +Speak, sirs; how was it? + +GADSHILL +We four set upon some dozen-- + +FALSTAFF +Sixteen at least, my lord. + +GADSHILL +And bound them. + +PETO +No, no, they were not bound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I +am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. + +GADSHILL +As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us-- + +FALSTAFF +And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, fought you with them all? + +FALSTAFF +All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought +not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if +there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old +Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. + +PRINCE HENRY +Pray God you have not murdered some of them. + +FALSTAFF +Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two +of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues +in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell +thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou +knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my +point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, four? thou saidst but two even now. + +FALSTAFF +Four, Hal; I told thee four. + +POINS +Ay, ay, he said four. + +FALSTAFF +These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at +me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven +points in my target, thus. + +PRINCE HENRY +Seven? why, there were but four even now. + +FALSTAFF +In buckram? + +POINS +Ay, four, in buckram suits. + +FALSTAFF +Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear me, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine +in buckram that I told thee of-- + +PRINCE HENRY +So, two more already. + +FALSTAFF +Their points being broken,-- + +POINS +Down fell their hose. + +FALSTAFF +Began to give me ground: but I followed me close, +came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of +the eleven I paid. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! + +FALSTAFF +But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten +knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive +at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst +not see thy hand. + +PRINCE HENRY +These lies are like their father that begets them; +gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou +clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou +whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,-- + +FALSTAFF +What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth +the truth? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal +green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy +hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this? + +POINS +Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. + +FALSTAFF +What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the +strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would +not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on +compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as +blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon +compulsion, I. + +PRINCE HENRY +I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine +coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, +this huge hill of flesh,-- + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried +neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O +for breath to utter what is like thee! you +tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile +standing-tuck,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and +when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, +hear me speak but this. + +POINS +Mark, Jack. + +PRINCE HENRY +We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and +were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain +tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you +four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your +prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in +the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts +away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared +for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard +bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword +as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! +What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst +thou now find out to hide thee from this open and +apparent shame? + +POINS +Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now? + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. +Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the +heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? +why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but +beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true +prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a +coward on instinct. I shall think the better of +myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant +lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, +lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap +to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. +Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles +of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be +merry? shall we have a play extempore? + +PRINCE HENRY +Content; and the argument shall be thy running away. + +FALSTAFF +Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! + +Enter Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord the prince! + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to +me? + +Hostess +Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at +door would speak with you: he says he comes from +your father. + +PRINCE HENRY +Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and +send him back again to my mother. + +FALSTAFF +What manner of man is he? + +Hostess +An old man. + +FALSTAFF +What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall +I give him his answer? + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, do, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +'Faith, and I'll send him packing. + +Exit FALSTAFF + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you, +Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you +ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true +prince; no, fie! + +BARDOLPH +'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. + +PRINCE HENRY +'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's +sword so hacked? + +PETO +Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would +swear truth out of England but he would make you +believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like. + +BARDOLPH +Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to +make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments +with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I +did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed +to hear his monstrous devices. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years +ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since +thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and +sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what +instinct hadst thou for it? + +BARDOLPH +My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold +these exhalations? + +PRINCE HENRY +I do. + +BARDOLPH +What think you they portend? + +PRINCE HENRY +Hot livers and cold purses. + +BARDOLPH +Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. + +PRINCE HENRY +No, if rightly taken, halter. + +Re-enter FALSTAFF + +Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. +How now, my sweet creature of bombast! +How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? + +FALSTAFF +My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was +not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have +crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of +sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a +bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was +Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the +court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the +north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the +bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the +devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh +hook--what a plague call you him? + +POINS +O, Glendower. + +FALSTAFF +Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer, +and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of +Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill +perpendicular,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +He that rides at high speed and with his pistol +kills a sparrow flying. + +FALSTAFF +You have hit it. + +PRINCE HENRY +So did he never the sparrow. + +FALSTAFF +Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so +for running! + +FALSTAFF +O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, +and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: +Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's +beard is turned white with the news: you may buy +land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and +this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads +as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. + +FALSTAFF +By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we +shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, +art not thou horrible afeard? thou being +heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three +such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that +spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou +not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at +it? + +PRINCE HENRY +Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct. + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou +comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the +particulars of my life. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state, +this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden +sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich +crown for a pitiful bald crown! + +FALSTAFF +Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, +now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to +make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have +wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it +in King Cambyses' vein. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here is my leg. + +FALSTAFF +And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. + +Hostess +O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! + +FALSTAFF +Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. + +Hostess +O, the father, how he holds his countenance! + +FALSTAFF +For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen; +For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. + +Hostess +O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry +players as ever I see! + +FALSTAFF +Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. +Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy +time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though +the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster +it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the +sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have +partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, +but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a +foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant +me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; +why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall +the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat +blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall +the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a +question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, +which thou hast often heard of and it is known to +many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, +as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth +the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not +speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in +pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in +woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I +have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. + +PRINCE HENRY +What manner of man, an it like your majesty? + +FALSTAFF +A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a +cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble +carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, +by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I +remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man +should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, +I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be +known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, +peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that +Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell +me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast +thou been this month? + +PRINCE HENRY +Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, +and I'll play my father. + +FALSTAFF +Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so +majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by +the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here I am set. + +FALSTAFF +And here I stand: judge, my masters. + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, Harry, whence come you? + +FALSTAFF +My noble lord, from Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle +ye for a young prince, i' faith. + +PRINCE HENRY +Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look +on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: +there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an +old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why +dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that +bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel +of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed +cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with +the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that +grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in +years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and +drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a +capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? +wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, +but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? + +FALSTAFF +I would your grace would take me with you: whom +means your grace? + +PRINCE HENRY +That villanous abominable misleader of youth, +Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, the man I know. + +PRINCE HENRY +I know thou dost. + +FALSTAFF +But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, +were to say more than I know. That he is old, the +more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but +that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster, +that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, +God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a +sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if +to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine +are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, +banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack +Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, +valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, +being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him +thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's +company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do, I will. + +A knocking heard + +Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH + +Re-enter BARDOLPH, running + +BARDOLPH +O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most +monstrous watch is at the door. + +FALSTAFF +Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to +say in the behalf of that Falstaff. + +Re-enter the Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord, my lord! + +PRINCE HENRY +Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: +what's the matter? + +Hostess +The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they +are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of +gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, +without seeming so. + +PRINCE HENRY +And thou a natural coward, without instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, +so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart +as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! +I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. + +PRINCE HENRY +Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up +above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good +conscience. + +FALSTAFF +Both which I have had: but their date is out, and +therefore I'll hide me. + +PRINCE HENRY +Call in the sheriff. + +Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO + +Enter Sheriff and the Carrier + +Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me? + +Sheriff +First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry +Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. + +PRINCE HENRY +What men? + +Sheriff +One of them is well known, my gracious lord, +A gross fat man. + +Carrier +As fat as butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +The man, I do assure you, is not here; +For I myself at this time have employ'd him. +And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee +That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time, +Send him to answer thee, or any man, +For any thing he shall be charged withal: +And so let me entreat you leave the house. + +Sheriff +I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen +Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. + +PRINCE HENRY +It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, +He shall be answerable; and so farewell. + +Sheriff +Good night, my noble lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +I think it is good morrow, is it not? + +Sheriff +Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. + +Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier + +PRINCE HENRY +This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, +call him forth. + +PETO +Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and +snorting like a horse. + +PRINCE HENRY +Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets. + +He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers + +What hast thou found? + +PETO +Nothing but papers, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Let's see what they be: read them. + +PETO +[Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d. +Item, Sauce,. . . 4d. +Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. +Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. +Item, Bread, ob. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to +this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, +keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there +let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the +morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place +shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a +charge of foot; and I know his death will be a +march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid +back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in +the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto. + +Exeunt + +PETO +Good morrow, good my lord. + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. + +Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER +MORTIMER +These promises are fair, the parties sure, +And our induction full of prosperous hope. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, +Will you sit down? +And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it! +I have forgot the map. + +GLENDOWER +No, here it is. +Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur, +For by that name as oft as Lancaster +Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with +A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven. + +HOTSPUR +And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. + +GLENDOWER +I cannot blame him: at my nativity +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +Of burning cressets; and at my birth +The frame and huge foundation of the earth +Shaked like a coward. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so it would have done at the same season, if +your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself +had never been born. + +GLENDOWER +I say the earth did shake when I was born. + +HOTSPUR +And I say the earth was not of my mind, +If you suppose as fearing you it shook. + +GLENDOWER +The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. + +HOTSPUR +O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, +And not in fear of your nativity. +Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth +In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth +Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd +By the imprisoning of unruly wind +Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, +Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down +Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth +Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, +In passion shook. + +GLENDOWER +Cousin, of many men +I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave +To tell you once again that at my birth +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds +Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. +These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; +And all the courses of my life do show +I am not in the roll of common men. +Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea +That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, +Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? +And bring him out that is but woman's son +Can trace me in the tedious ways of art +And hold me pace in deep experiments. + +HOTSPUR +I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. +I'll to dinner. + +MORTIMER +Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. + +GLENDOWER +I can call spirits from the vasty deep. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so can I, or so can any man; +But will they come when you do call for them? + +GLENDOWER +Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command +The devil. + +HOTSPUR +And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil +By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil. +If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, +And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. +O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil! + +MORTIMER +Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. + +GLENDOWER +Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head +Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye +And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him +Bootless home and weather-beaten back. + +HOTSPUR +Home without boots, and in foul weather too! +How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? + +GLENDOWER +Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right +According to our threefold order ta'en? + +MORTIMER +The archdeacon hath divided it +Into three limits very equally: +England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, +By south and east is to my part assign'd: +All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, +And all the fertile land within that bound, +To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you +The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. +And our indentures tripartite are drawn; +Which being sealed interchangeably, +A business that this night may execute, +To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I +And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth +To meet your father and the Scottish power, +As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. +My father Glendower is not ready yet, +Not shall we need his help these fourteen days. +Within that space you may have drawn together +Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen. + +GLENDOWER +A shorter time shall send me to you, lords: +And in my conduct shall your ladies come; +From whom you now must steal and take no leave, +For there will be a world of water shed +Upon the parting of your wives and you. + +HOTSPUR +Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, +In quantity equals not one of yours: +See how this river comes me cranking in, +And cuts me from the best of all my land +A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. +I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; +And here the smug and silver Trent shall run +In a new channel, fair and evenly; +It shall not wind with such a deep indent, +To rob me of so rich a bottom here. + +GLENDOWER +Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth. + +MORTIMER +Yea, but +Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up +With like advantage on the other side; +Gelding the opposed continent as much +As on the other side it takes from you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Yea, but a little charge will trench him here +And on this north side win this cape of land; +And then he runs straight and even. + +HOTSPUR +I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. + +GLENDOWER +I'll not have it alter'd. + +HOTSPUR +Will not you? + +GLENDOWER +No, nor you shall not. + +HOTSPUR +Who shall say me nay? + +GLENDOWER +Why, that will I. + +HOTSPUR +Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +I can speak English, lord, as well as you; +For I was train'd up in the English court; +Where, being but young, I framed to the harp +Many an English ditty lovely well +And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, +A virtue that was never seen in you. + +HOTSPUR +Marry, +And I am glad of it with all my heart: +I had rather be a kitten and cry mew +Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers; +I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, +Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree; +And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, +Nothing so much as mincing poetry: +'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. + +GLENDOWER +Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. + +HOTSPUR +I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land +To any well-deserving friend; +But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, +I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. +Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? + +GLENDOWER +The moon shines fair; you may away by night: +I'll haste the writer and withal +Break with your wives of your departure hence: +I am afraid my daughter will run mad, +So much she doteth on her Mortimer. + +Exit GLENDOWER + +MORTIMER +Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! + +HOTSPUR +I cannot choose: sometime he angers me +With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant, +Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, +And of a dragon and a finless fish, +A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, +A couching lion and a ramping cat, +And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff +As puts me from my faith. I tell you what; +He held me last night at least nine hours +In reckoning up the several devils' names +That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,' +But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious +As a tired horse, a railing wife; +Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live +With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, +Than feed on cates and have him talk to me +In any summer-house in Christendom. + +MORTIMER +In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, +Exceedingly well read, and profited +In strange concealments, valiant as a lion +And as wondrous affable and as bountiful +As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? +He holds your temper in a high respect +And curbs himself even of his natural scope +When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does: +I warrant you, that man is not alive +Might so have tempted him as you have done, +Without the taste of danger and reproof: +But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; +And since your coming hither have done enough +To put him quite beside his patience. +You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: +Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,-- +And that's the dearest grace it renders you,-- +Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, +Defect of manners, want of government, +Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain: +The least of which haunting a nobleman +Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain +Upon the beauty of all parts besides, +Beguiling them of commendation. + +HOTSPUR +Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed! +Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. + +Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies + +MORTIMER +This is the deadly spite that angers me; +My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; +She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. + +MORTIMER +Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy +Shall follow in your conduct speedily. + +Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same + +GLENDOWER +She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry, +one that no persuasion can do good upon. + +The lady speaks in Welsh + +MORTIMER +I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh +Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens +I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, +In such a parley should I answer thee. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +I understand thy kisses and thou mine, +And that's a feeling disputation: +But I will never be a truant, love, +Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue +Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, +Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, +With ravishing division, to her lute. + +GLENDOWER +Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +MORTIMER +O, I am ignorance itself in this! + +GLENDOWER +She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down +And rest your gentle head upon her lap, +And she will sing the song that pleaseth you +And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep. +Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, +Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep +As is the difference betwixt day and night +The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team +Begins his golden progress in the east. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: +By that time will our book, I think, be drawn + +GLENDOWER +Do so; +And those musicians that shall play to you +Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence, +And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, +quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. + +LADY PERCY +Go, ye giddy goose. + +The music plays + +HOTSPUR +Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; +And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. +By'r lady, he is a good musician. + +LADY PERCY +Then should you be nothing but musical for you are +altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, +and hear the lady sing in Welsh. + +HOTSPUR +I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. + +LADY PERCY +Wouldst thou have thy head broken? + +HOTSPUR +No. + +LADY PERCY +Then be still. + +HOTSPUR +Neither;'tis a woman's fault. + +LADY PERCY +Now God help thee! + +HOTSPUR +To the Welsh lady's bed. + +LADY PERCY +What's that? + +HOTSPUR +Peace! she sings. + +Here the lady sings a Welsh song + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. + +LADY PERCY +Not mine, in good sooth. + +HOTSPUR +Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a +comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and +'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and +'as sure as day,' +And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, +As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. +Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, +A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,' +And such protest of pepper-gingerbread, +To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. +Come, sing. + +LADY PERCY +I will not sing. + +HOTSPUR +'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast +teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away +within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. + +Exit + +GLENDOWER +Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow +As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. +By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal, +And then to horse immediately. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others +KING HENRY IV +Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I +Must have some private conference; but be near at hand, +For we shall presently have need of you. + +Exeunt Lords + +I know not whether God will have it so, +For some displeasing service I have done, +That, in his secret doom, out of my blood +He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; +But thou dost in thy passages of life +Make me believe that thou art only mark'd +For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven +To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, +Could such inordinate and low desires, +Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, +Such barren pleasures, rude society, +As thou art match'd withal and grafted to, +Accompany the greatness of thy blood +And hold their level with thy princely heart? + +PRINCE HENRY +So please your majesty, I would I could +Quit all offences with as clear excuse +As well as I am doubtless I can purge +Myself of many I am charged withal: +Yet such extenuation let me beg, +As, in reproof of many tales devised, +which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, +By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers, +I may, for some things true, wherein my youth +Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, +Find pardon on my true submission. + +KING HENRY IV +God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, +At thy affections, which do hold a wing +Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. +Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost. +Which by thy younger brother is supplied, +And art almost an alien to the hearts +Of all the court and princes of my blood: +The hope and expectation of thy time +Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man +Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. +Had I so lavish of my presence been, +So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, +So stale and cheap to vulgar company, +Opinion, that did help me to the crown, +Had still kept loyal to possession +And left me in reputeless banishment, +A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. +By being seldom seen, I could not stir +But like a comet I was wonder'd at; +That men would tell their children 'This is he;' +Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?' +And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, +And dress'd myself in such humility +That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, +Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, +Even in the presence of the crowned king. +Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; +My presence, like a robe pontifical, +Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, +Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast +And won by rareness such solemnity. +The skipping king, he ambled up and down +With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, +Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, +Mingled his royalty with capering fools, +Had his great name profaned with their scorns +And gave his countenance, against his name, +To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push +Of every beardless vain comparative, +Grew a companion to the common streets, +Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; +That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, +They surfeited with honey and began +To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little +More than a little is by much too much. +So when he had occasion to be seen, +He was but as the cuckoo is in June, +Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes +As, sick and blunted with community, +Afford no extraordinary gaze, +Such as is bent on sun-like majesty +When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; +But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down, +Slept in his face and render'd such aspect +As cloudy men use to their adversaries, +Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full. +And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; +For thou has lost thy princely privilege +With vile participation: not an eye +But is a-weary of thy common sight, +Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; +Which now doth that I would not have it do, +Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. + +PRINCE HENRY +I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, +Be more myself. + +KING HENRY IV +For all the world +As thou art to this hour was Richard then +When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh, +And even as I was then is Percy now. +Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot, +He hath more worthy interest to the state +Than thou the shadow of succession; +For of no right, nor colour like to right, +He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, +Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, +And, being no more in debt to years than thou, +Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on +To bloody battles and to bruising arms. +What never-dying honour hath he got +Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, +Whose hot incursions and great name in arms +Holds from all soldiers chief majority +And military title capital +Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: +Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, +This infant warrior, in his enterprises +Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, +Enlarged him and made a friend of him, +To fill the mouth of deep defiance up +And shake the peace and safety of our throne. +And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, +The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, +Capitulate against us and are up. +But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? +Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, +Which art my near'st and dearest enemy? +Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, +Base inclination and the start of spleen +To fight against me under Percy's pay, +To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, +To show how much thou art degenerate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do not think so; you shall not find it so: +And God forgive them that so much have sway'd +Your majesty's good thoughts away from me! +I will redeem all this on Percy's head +And in the closing of some glorious day +Be bold to tell you that I am your son; +When I will wear a garment all of blood +And stain my favours in a bloody mask, +Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: +And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, +That this same child of honour and renown, +This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, +And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. +For every honour sitting on his helm, +Would they were multitudes, and on my head +My shames redoubled! for the time will come, +That I shall make this northern youth exchange +His glorious deeds for my indignities. +Percy is but my factor, good my lord, +To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; +And I will call him to so strict account, +That he shall render every glory up, +Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, +Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. +This, in the name of God, I promise here: +The which if He be pleased I shall perform, +I do beseech your majesty may salve +The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: +If not, the end of life cancels all bands; +And I will die a hundred thousand deaths +Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. + +KING HENRY IV +A hundred thousand rebels die in this: +Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. + +Enter BLUNT + +How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +So hath the business that I come to speak of. +Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word +That Douglas and the English rebels met +The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury +A mighty and a fearful head they are, +If promises be kept on every hand, +As ever offer'd foul play in the state. + +KING HENRY IV +The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day; +With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; +For this advertisement is five days old: +On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; +On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting +Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march +Through Gloucestershire; by which account, +Our business valued, some twelve days hence +Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. +Our hands are full of business: let's away; +Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. + +Exeunt + +Scene III +Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern. + +Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last +action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my +skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose +gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, +I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some +liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I +shall have no strength to repent. An I have not +forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I +am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a +church! Company, villanous company, hath been the +spoil of me. + +BARDOLPH +Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. + +FALSTAFF +Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make +me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman +need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not +above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once +in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I +borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in +good compass: and now I live out of all order, out +of all compass. + +BARDOLPH +Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs +be out of all compass, out of all reasonable +compass, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF +Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: +thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in +the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the +Knight of the Burning Lamp. + +BARDOLPH +Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. + +FALSTAFF +No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many +a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I +never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and +Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his +robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way +given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath +should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but +thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but +for the light in thy face, the son of utter +darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the +night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou +hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, +there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a +perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! +Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and +torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt +tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast +drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap +at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have +maintained that salamander of yours with fire any +time this two and thirty years; God reward me for +it! + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not +able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more +than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only +witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other +men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that +hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the +prince put thee into my service for any other reason +than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. +Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn +in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never +manned with an agate till now: but I will inset you +neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and +send you back again to your master, for a jewel,-- +the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is +not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in +the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his +cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is +a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis +not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still at a +face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence +out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had +writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He +may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, +I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about +the satin for my short cloak and my slops? + +Page +He said, sir, you should procure him better +assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his +band and yours; he liked not the security. + +FALSTAFF +Let him be damned, like the glutton! pray God his +tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally +yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, +and then stand upon security! The whoreson +smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and +bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is +through with them in honest taking up, then they +must stand upon security. I had as lief they would +put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with +security. I looked a' should have sent me two and +twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he +sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; +for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness +of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he +see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. +Where's Bardolph? + +Page +He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. + +FALSTAFF +I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in +Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the +stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant + +Page +Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the +Prince for striking him about Bardolph. + +FALSTAFF +Wait, close; I will not see him. +Lord Chief-Justice What's he that goes there? + +Servant +Falstaff, an't please your lordship. +Lord Chief-Justice He that was in question for the robbery? + +Servant +He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at +Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some +charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. +Lord Chief-Justice What, to York? Call him back again. + +Servant +Sir John Falstaff! + +FALSTAFF +Boy, tell him I am deaf. + +Page +You must speak louder; my master is deaf. +Lord Chief-Justice I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. +Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. + +Servant +Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not +wars? is there not employment? doth not the king +lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? +Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it +is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, +were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell +how to make it. + +Servant +You mistake me, sir. + +FALSTAFF +Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting +my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied +in my throat, if I had said so. + +Servant +I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and our +soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, +you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other +than an honest man. + +FALSTAFF +I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that +which grows to me! if thou gettest any leave of me, +hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be +hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt! + +Servant +Sir, my lord would speak with you. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. + +FALSTAFF +My good lord! God give your lordship good time of +day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard +say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship +goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not +clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in +you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I must +humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care +of your health. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to +Shrewsbury. + +FALSTAFF +An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is +returned with some discomfort from Wales. +Lord Chief-Justice I talk not of his majesty: you would not come when +I sent for you. + +FALSTAFF +And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into +this same whoreson apoplexy. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with +you. + +FALSTAFF +This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, +an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the +blood, a whoreson tingling. +Lord Chief-Justice What tell you me of it? be it as it is. + +FALSTAFF +It hath its original from much grief, from study and +perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of +his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness. +Lord Chief-Justice I think you are fallen into the disease; for you +hear not what I say to you. + +FALSTAFF +Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please +you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady +of not marking, that I am troubled withal. +Lord Chief-Justice To punish you by the heels would amend the +attention of your ears; and I care not if I do +become your physician. + +FALSTAFF +I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: +your lordship may minister the potion of +imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how +should I be your patient to follow your +prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a +scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. +Lord Chief-Justice I sent for you, when there were matters against you +for your life, to come speak with me. + +FALSTAFF +As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the +laws of this land-service, I did not come. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy. + +FALSTAFF +He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. +Lord Chief-Justice Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. + +FALSTAFF +I would it were otherwise; I would my means were +greater, and my waist slenderer. +Lord Chief-Justice You have misled the youthful prince. + +FALSTAFF +The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow +with the great belly, and he my dog. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your +day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded +over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: you may +thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting +that action. + +FALSTAFF +My lord? +Lord Chief-Justice But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a +sleeping wolf. + +FALSTAFF +To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. +Lord Chief-Justice What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt +out. + +FALSTAFF +A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow: if I did say +of wax, my growth would approve the truth. +Lord Chief-Justice There is not a white hair on your face but should +have his effect of gravity. + +FALSTAFF +His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. +Lord Chief-Justice You follow the young prince up and down, like his +ill angel. + +FALSTAFF +Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but I hope +he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: +and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go: I +cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these +costermonger times that true valour is turned +bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath +his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the +other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of +this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. +You that are old consider not the capacities of us +that are young; you do measure the heat of our +livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we +that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, +are wags too. +Lord Chief-Justice Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, +that are written down old with all the characters of +age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a +yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an +increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your +wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and +every part about you blasted with antiquity? and +will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the +afternoon, with a white head and something a round +belly. For my voice, I have lost it with halloing +and singing of anthems. To approve my youth +further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in +judgment and understanding; and he that will caper +with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the +money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that +the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, +and you took it like a sensible lord. I have +chequed him for it, and the young lion repents; +marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk +and old sack. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God send the prince a better companion! + +FALSTAFF +God send the companion a better prince! I cannot +rid my hands of him. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry: I +hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster +against the Archbishop and the Earl of +Northumberland. + +FALSTAFF +Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look +you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, +that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the +Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean +not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, +and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I +might never spit white again. There is not a +dangerous action can peep out his head but I am +thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but it +was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if +they have a good thing, to make it too common. If +ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give +me rest. I would to God my name were not so +terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be +eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to +nothing with perpetual motion. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your +expedition! + +FALSTAFF +Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to +furnish me forth? +Lord Chief-Justice Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to +bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my +cousin Westmoreland. + +Exeunt Chief-Justice and Servant + +FALSTAFF +If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man +can no more separate age and covetousness than a' +can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout +galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and +so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! + +Page +Sir? + +FALSTAFF +What money is in my purse? + +Page +Seven groats and two pence. + +FALSTAFF +I can get no remedy against this consumption of the +purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, +but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter +to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this +to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old +Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry +since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. +About it: you know where to find me. + +Exit Page + +A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for +the one or the other plays the rogue with my great +toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars +for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more +reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing: +I will turn diseases to commodity. + +Exit + +SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Thus have you heard our cause and known our means; +And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, +Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes: +And first, lord marshal, what say you to it? + +MOWBRAY +I well allow the occasion of our arms; +But gladly would be better satisfied +How in our means we should advance ourselves +To look with forehead bold and big enough +Upon the power and puissance of the king. + +HASTINGS +Our present musters grow upon the file +To five and twenty thousand men of choice; +And our supplies live largely in the hope +Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns +With an incensed fire of injuries. + +LORD BARDOLPH +The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus; +Whether our present five and twenty thousand +May hold up head without Northumberland? + +HASTINGS +With him, we may. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yea, marry, there's the point: +But if without him we be thought too feeble, +My judgment is, we should not step too far +Till we had his assistance by the hand; +For in a theme so bloody-faced as this +Conjecture, expectation, and surmise +Of aids incertain should not be admitted. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed +It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. + +LORD BARDOLPH +It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, +Eating the air on promise of supply, +Flattering himself in project of a power +Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts: +And so, with great imagination +Proper to madmen, led his powers to death +And winking leap'd into destruction. + +HASTINGS +But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt +To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yes, if this present quality of war, +Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot +Lives so in hope as in an early spring +We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit, +Hope gives not so much warrant as despair +That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, +We first survey the plot, then draw the model; +And when we see the figure of the house, +Then must we rate the cost of the erection; +Which if we find outweighs ability, +What do we then but draw anew the model +In fewer offices, or at last desist +To build at all? Much more, in this great work, +Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down +And set another up, should we survey +The plot of situation and the model, +Consent upon a sure foundation, +Question surveyors, know our own estate, +How able such a work to undergo, +To weigh against his opposite; or else +We fortify in paper and in figures, +Using the names of men instead of men: +Like one that draws the model of a house +Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, +Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost +A naked subject to the weeping clouds +And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. + +HASTINGS +Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, +Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd +The utmost man of expectation, +I think we are a body strong enough, +Even as we are, to equal with the king. + +LORD BARDOLPH +What, is the king but five and twenty thousand? + +HASTINGS +To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. +For his divisions, as the times do brawl, +Are in three heads: one power against the French, +And one against Glendower; perforce a third +Must take up us: so is the unfirm king +In three divided; and his coffers sound +With hollow poverty and emptiness. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +That he should draw his several strengths together +And come against us in full puissance, +Need not be dreaded. + +HASTINGS +If he should do so, +He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh +Baying him at the heels: never fear that. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who is it like should lead his forces hither? + +HASTINGS +The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; +Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: +But who is substituted 'gainst the French, +I have no certain notice. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Let us on, +And publish the occasion of our arms. +The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; +Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: +An habitation giddy and unsure +Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. +O thou fond many, with what loud applause +Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, +Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! +And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, +Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, +That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. +So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge +Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; +And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, +And howl'st to find it. What trust is in +these times? +They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, +Are now become enamour'd on his grave: +Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head +When through proud London he came sighing on +After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, +Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again, +And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accursed! +Past and to come seems best; things present worst. + +MOWBRAY +Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? + +HASTINGS +We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Master Fang, have you entered the action? + +FANG +It is entered. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a' +stand to 't? + +FANG +Sirrah, where's Snare? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. + +SNARE +Here, here. + +FANG +Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. + +SNARE +It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in +mine own house, and that most beastly: in good +faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his +weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will +spare neither man, woman, nor child. + +FANG +If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. + +FANG +An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an +infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, +hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not +'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving +your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to +dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to +Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my +exion is entered and my case so openly known to the +world, let him be brought in to his answer. A +hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to +bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and +have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed +off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame +to be thought on. There is no honesty in such +dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a +beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he +comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, +with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master +Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices. + +Enter FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter? + +FANG +Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. + +FALSTAFF +Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the +villain's head: throw the quean in the channel. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the +channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly +rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle +villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the +king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a +honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. + +FALSTAFF +Keep them off, Bardolph. + +FANG +A rescue! a rescue! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't +thou? Thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, +thou hemp-seed! + +FALSTAFF +Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You +fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men + +Lord Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. +Lord Chief-Justice How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here? +Doth this become your place, your time and business? +You should have been well on your way to York. +Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am +a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. +Lord Chief-Justice For what sum? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, +all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; +he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of +his: but I will have some of it out again, or I +will ride thee o' nights like the mare. + +FALSTAFF +I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have +any vantage of ground to get up. +Lord Chief-Justice How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good +temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? +Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so +rough a course to come by her own? + +FALSTAFF +What is the gross sum that I owe thee? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the +money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a +parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, +at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon +Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke +thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of +Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was +washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady +thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife +Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me +gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of +vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; +whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I +told thee they were ill for a green wound? And +didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, +desire me to be no more so familiarity with such +poor people; saying that ere long they should call +me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me +fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy +book-oath: deny it, if thou canst. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up +and down the town that the eldest son is like you: +she hath been in good case, and the truth is, +poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish +officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your +manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It +is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words +that come with such more than impudent sauciness +from you, can thrust me from a level consideration: +you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the +easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her +serve your uses both in purse and in person. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, in truth, my lord. +Lord Chief-Justice Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and +unpay the villany you have done her: the one you +may do with sterling money, and the other with +current repentance. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without +reply. You call honourable boldness impudent +sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say +nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble +duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say +to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, +being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs. +Lord Chief-Justice You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer +in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this +poor woman. + +FALSTAFF +Come hither, hostess. + +Enter GOWER + +Lord Chief-Justice Now, Master Gower, what news? + +GOWER +The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales +Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Faith, you said so before. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain +to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my +dining-chambers. + +FALSTAFF +Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy +walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of +the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, +is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these +fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou +canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's +not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, +and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in +this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I +know thou wast set on to this. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' +faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, +la! + +FALSTAFF +Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a +fool still. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I +hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? + +FALSTAFF +Will I live? + +To BARDOLPH + +Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? + +FALSTAFF +No more words; let's have her. + +Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers and Boy + +Lord Chief-Justice I have heard better news. + +FALSTAFF +What's the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Where lay the king last night? + +GOWER +At Basingstoke, my lord. + +FALSTAFF +I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Come all his forces back? + +GOWER +No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, +Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, +Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. + +FALSTAFF +Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? +Lord Chief-Justice You shall have letters of me presently: +Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. + +FALSTAFF +My lord! +Lord Chief-Justice What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? + +GOWER +I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, +good Sir John. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to +take soldiers up in counties as you go. + +FALSTAFF +Will you sup with me, Master Gower? +Lord Chief-Justice What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool +that taught them me. This is the right fencing +grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. +Lord Chief-Justice Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. Another street. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Before God, I am exceeding weary. + +POINS +Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not +have attached one of so high blood. + +PRINCE HENRY +Faith, it does me; though it discolours the +complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth +it not show vilely in me to desire small beer? + +POINS +Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as +to remember so weak a composition. + +PRINCE HENRY +Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, +by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, +small beer. But, indeed, these humble +considerations make me out of love with my +greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember +thy name! or to know thy face to-morrow! or to +take note how many pair of silk stockings thou +hast, viz. these, and those that were thy +peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy +shirts, as, one for superfluity, and another for +use! But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better +than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when +thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done +a great while, because the rest of thy low +countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: +and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins +of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the +midwives say the children are not in the fault; +whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are +mightily strengthened. + +POINS +How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, +you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good +young princes would do so, their fathers being so +sick as yours at this time is? + +PRINCE HENRY +Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? + +POINS +Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing. + +PRINCE HENRY +It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. + +POINS +Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you +will tell. + +PRINCE HENRY +Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be +sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell +thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a +better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad +indeed too. + +POINS +Very hardly upon such a subject. + +PRINCE HENRY +By this hand thou thinkest me as far in the devil's +book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and +persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell +thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so +sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art +hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. + +POINS +The reason? + +PRINCE HENRY +What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? + +POINS +I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. + +PRINCE HENRY +It would be every man's thought; and thou art a +blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never +a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way +better than thine: every man would think me an +hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most +worshipful thought to think so? + +POINS +Why, because you have been so lewd and so much +engraffed to Falstaff. + +PRINCE HENRY +And to thee. + +POINS +By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it +with my own ears: the worst that they can say of +me is that I am a second brother and that I am a +proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I +confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph. + +Enter BARDOLPH and Page + +PRINCE HENRY +And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from +me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not +transformed him ape. + +BARDOLPH +God save your grace! + +PRINCE HENRY +And yours, most noble Bardolph! + +BARDOLPH +Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you +be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a +maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a +matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead? + +Page +A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red +lattice, and I could discern no part of his face +from the window: at last I spied his eyes, and +methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's +new petticoat and so peeped through. + +PRINCE HENRY +Has not the boy profited? + +BARDOLPH +Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! + +Page +Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away! + +PRINCE HENRY +Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? + +Page +Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was delivered +of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. + +PRINCE HENRY +A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, +boy. + +POINS +O, that this good blossom could be kept from +cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. + +BARDOLPH +An you do not make him hanged among you, the +gallows shall have wrong. + +PRINCE HENRY +And how doth thy master, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH +Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to +town: there's a letter for you. + +POINS +Delivered with good respect. And how doth the +martlemas, your master? + +BARDOLPH +In bodily health, sir. + +POINS +Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but +that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies +not. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my +dog; and he holds his place; for look you how be writes. + +POINS +[Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight,'--every man must +know that, as oft as he has occasion to name +himself: even like those that are kin to the king; +for they never prick their finger but they say, +'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How +comes that?' says he, that takes upon him not to +conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's +cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.' + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it +from Japhet. But to the letter. + +POINS +[Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of +the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of +Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace! + +POINS +[Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in +brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath, +short-winded. 'I commend me to thee, I commend +thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with +Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he +swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent +at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell. +Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to +say, as thou usest him, JACK FALSTAFF with my +familiars, JOHN with my brothers and sisters, +and SIR JOHN with all Europe.' +My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it. + +PRINCE HENRY +That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do +you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? + +POINS +God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the +spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. +Is your master here in London? + +BARDOLPH +Yea, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank? + +BARDOLPH +At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +What company? + +Page +Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sup any women with him? + +Page +None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and +Mistress Doll Tearsheet. + +PRINCE HENRY +What pagan may that be? + +Page +A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's. + +PRINCE HENRY +Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town +bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? + +POINS +I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your +master that I am yet come to town: there's for +your silence. + +BARDOLPH +I have no tongue, sir. + +Page +And for mine, sir, I will govern it. + +PRINCE HENRY +Fare you well; go. + +Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page + +This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. + +POINS +I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint +Alban's and London. + +PRINCE HENRY +How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night +in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? + +POINS +Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait +upon him at his table as drawers. + +PRINCE HENRY +From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was +Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low +transformation! that shall be mine; for in every +thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. +Follow me, Ned. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY +NORTHUMBERLAND +I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, +Give even way unto my rough affairs: +Put not you on the visage of the times +And be like them to Percy troublesome. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I have given over, I will speak no more: +Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; +And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. + +LADY PERCY +O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! +The time was, father, that you broke your word, +When you were more endeared to it than now; +When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, +Threw many a northward look to see his father +Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. +Who then persuaded you to stay at home? +There were two honours lost, yours and your son's. +For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! +For his, it stuck upon him as the sun +In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light +Did all the chivalry of England move +To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass +Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves: +He had no legs that practised not his gait; +And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, +Became the accents of the valiant; +For those that could speak low and tardily +Would turn their own perfection to abuse, +To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait, +In diet, in affections of delight, +In military rules, humours of blood, +He was the mark and glass, copy and book, +That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him! +O miracle of men! him did you leave, +Second to none, unseconded by you, +To look upon the hideous god of war +In disadvantage; to abide a field +Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name +Did seem defensible: so you left him. +Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong +To hold your honour more precise and nice +With others than with him! let them alone: +The marshal and the archbishop are strong: +Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, +To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, +Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew your heart, +Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me +With new lamenting ancient oversights. +But I must go and meet with danger there, +Or it will seek me in another place +And find me worse provided. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, fly to Scotland, +Till that the nobles and the armed commons +Have of their puissance made a little taste. + +LADY PERCY +If they get ground and vantage of the king, +Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, +To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, +First let them try themselves. So did your son; +He was so suffer'd: so came I a widow; +And never shall have length of life enough +To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, +That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, +For recordation to my noble husband. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind +As with the tide swell'd up unto his height, +That makes a still-stand, running neither way: +Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, +But many thousand reasons hold me back. +I will resolve for Scotland: there am I, +Till time and vantage crave my company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap. + +Enter two Drawers +First Drawer +What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? +thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john. + +Second Drawer +Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish +of apple-johns before him, and told him there were +five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said +'I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, +old, withered knights.' It angered him to the +heart: but he hath forgot that. + +First Drawer +Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if +thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress +Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the +room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight. + +Second Drawer +Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins +anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and +aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph +hath brought word. + +First Drawer +By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an +excellent stratagem. + +Second Drawer +I'll see if I can find out Sneak. + +Exit + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an +excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as +extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your +colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good +truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much +canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, +and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's +this?' How do you now? + +DOLL TEARSHEET +Better than I was: hem! + +The Life of King Henry the Fifth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry V | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend +The brightest heaven of invention, +A kingdom for a stage, princes to act +And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! +Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, +Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, +Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire +Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, +The flat unraised spirits that have dared +On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth +So great an object: can this cockpit hold +The vasty fields of France? or may we cram +Within this wooden O the very casques +That did affright the air at Agincourt? +O, pardon! since a crooked figure may +Attest in little place a million; +And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, +On your imaginary forces work. +Suppose within the girdle of these walls +Are now confined two mighty monarchies, +Whose high upreared and abutting fronts +The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: +Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; +Into a thousand parts divide on man, +And make imaginary puissance; +Think when we talk of horses, that you see them +Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth; +For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, +Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, +Turning the accomplishment of many years +Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, +Admit me Chorus to this history; +Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, +Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY +CANTERBURY +My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged, +Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign +Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, +But that the scambling and unquiet time +Did push it out of farther question. + +ELY +But how, my lord, shall we resist it now? + +CANTERBURY +It must be thought on. If it pass against us, +We lose the better half of our possession: +For all the temporal lands which men devout +By testament have given to the church +Would they strip from us; being valued thus: +As much as would maintain, to the king's honour, +Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, +Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; +And, to relief of lazars and weak age, +Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil. +A hundred almshouses right well supplied; +And to the coffers of the king beside, +A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill. + +ELY +This would drink deep. + +CANTERBURY +'Twould drink the cup and all. + +ELY +But what prevention? + +CANTERBURY +The king is full of grace and fair regard. + +ELY +And a true lover of the holy church. + +CANTERBURY +The courses of his youth promised it not. +The breath no sooner left his father's body, +But that his wildness, mortified in him, +Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment +Consideration, like an angel, came +And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, +Leaving his body as a paradise, +To envelop and contain celestial spirits. +Never was such a sudden scholar made; +Never came reformation in a flood, +With such a heady currance, scouring faults +Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness +So soon did lose his seat and all at once +As in this king. + +ELY +We are blessed in the change. + +CANTERBURY +Hear him but reason in divinity, +And all-admiring with an inward wish +You would desire the king were made a prelate: +Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, +You would say it hath been all in all his study: +List his discourse of war, and you shall hear +A fearful battle render'd you in music: +Turn him to any cause of policy, +The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, +Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, +The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, +And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, +To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences; +So that the art and practic part of life +Must be the mistress to this theoric: +Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it, +Since his addiction was to courses vain, +His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow, +His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports, +And never noted in him any study, +Any retirement, any sequestration +From open haunts and popularity. + +ELY +The strawberry grows underneath the nettle +And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best +Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality: +And so the prince obscured his contemplation +Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, +Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, +Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. + +CANTERBURY +It must be so; for miracles are ceased; +And therefore we must needs admit the means +How things are perfected. + +ELY +But, my good lord, +How now for mitigation of this bill +Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty +Incline to it, or no? + +CANTERBURY +He seems indifferent, +Or rather swaying more upon our part +Than cherishing the exhibiters against us; +For I have made an offer to his majesty, +Upon our spiritual convocation +And in regard of causes now in hand, +Which I have open'd to his grace at large, +As touching France, to give a greater sum +Than ever at one time the clergy yet +Did to his predecessors part withal. + +ELY +How did this offer seem received, my lord? + +CANTERBURY +With good acceptance of his majesty; +Save that there was not time enough to hear, +As I perceived his grace would fain have done, +The severals and unhidden passages +Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms +And generally to the crown and seat of France +Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather. + +ELY +What was the impediment that broke this off? + +CANTERBURY +The French ambassador upon that instant +Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come +To give him hearing: is it four o'clock? + +ELY +It is. + +CANTERBURY +Then go we in, to know his embassy; +Which I could with a ready guess declare, +Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. + +ELY +I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber. + +Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants +KING HENRY V +Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury? + +EXETER +Not here in presence. + +KING HENRY V +Send for him, good uncle. + +WESTMORELAND +Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege? + +KING HENRY V +Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved, +Before we hear him, of some things of weight +That task our thoughts, concerning us and France. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY + +CANTERBURY +God and his angels guard your sacred throne +And make you long become it! + +KING HENRY V +Sure, we thank you. +My learned lord, we pray you to proceed +And justly and religiously unfold +Why the law Salique that they have in France +Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim: +And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, +That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading, +Or nicely charge your understanding soul +With opening titles miscreate, whose right +Suits not in native colours with the truth; +For God doth know how many now in health +Shall drop their blood in approbation +Of what your reverence shall incite us to. +Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, +How you awake our sleeping sword of war: +We charge you, in the name of God, take heed; +For never two such kingdoms did contend +Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops +Are every one a woe, a sore complaint +'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords +That make such waste in brief mortality. +Under this conjuration, speak, my lord; +For we will hear, note and believe in heart +That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd +As pure as sin with baptism. + +CANTERBURY +Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers, +That owe yourselves, your lives and services +To this imperial throne. There is no bar +To make against your highness' claim to France +But this, which they produce from Pharamond, +'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:' +'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:' +Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze +To be the realm of France, and Pharamond +The founder of this law and female bar. +Yet their own authors faithfully affirm +That the land Salique is in Germany, +Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe; +Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons, +There left behind and settled certain French; +Who, holding in disdain the German women +For some dishonest manners of their life, +Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female +Should be inheritrix in Salique land: +Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala, +Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen. +Then doth it well appear that Salique law +Was not devised for the realm of France: +Nor did the French possess the Salique land +Until four hundred one and twenty years +After defunction of King Pharamond, +Idly supposed the founder of this law; +Who died within the year of our redemption +Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great +Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French +Beyond the river Sala, in the year +Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, +King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, +Did, as heir general, being descended +Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, +Make claim and title to the crown of France. +Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown +Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male +Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, +To find his title with some shows of truth, +'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught, +Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare, +Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son +To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son +Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, +Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, +Could not keep quiet in his conscience, +Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied +That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, +Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, +Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine: +By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great +Was re-united to the crown of France. +So that, as clear as is the summer's sun. +King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim, +King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear +To hold in right and title of the female: +So do the kings of France unto this day; +Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law +To bar your highness claiming from the female, +And rather choose to hide them in a net +Than amply to imbar their crooked titles +Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. + +KING HENRY V +May I with right and conscience make this claim? + +CANTERBURY +The sin upon my head, dread sovereign! +For in the book of Numbers is it writ, +When the man dies, let the inheritance +Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, +Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag; +Look back into your mighty ancestors: +Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, +From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit, +And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, +Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy, +Making defeat on the full power of France, +Whiles his most mighty father on a hill +Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp +Forage in blood of French nobility. +O noble English. that could entertain +With half their forces the full Pride of France +And let another half stand laughing by, +All out of work and cold for action! + +ELY +Awake remembrance of these valiant dead +And with your puissant arm renew their feats: +You are their heir; you sit upon their throne; +The blood and courage that renowned them +Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege +Is in the very May-morn of his youth, +Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. + +EXETER +Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth +Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, +As did the former lions of your blood. + +WESTMORELAND +They know your grace hath cause and means and might; +So hath your highness; never king of England +Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects, +Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England +And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France. + +CANTERBURY +O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, +With blood and sword and fire to win your right; +In aid whereof we of the spiritualty +Will raise your highness such a mighty sum +As never did the clergy at one time +Bring in to any of your ancestors. + +KING HENRY V +We must not only arm to invade the French, +But lay down our proportions to defend +Against the Scot, who will make road upon us +With all advantages. + +CANTERBURY +They of those marches, gracious sovereign, +Shall be a wall sufficient to defend +Our inland from the pilfering borderers. + +KING HENRY V +We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, +But fear the main intendment of the Scot, +Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us; +For you shall read that my great-grandfather +Never went with his forces into France +But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom +Came pouring, like the tide into a breach, +With ample and brim fulness of his force, +Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, +Girding with grievous siege castles and towns; +That England, being empty of defence, +Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood. + +CANTERBURY +She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege; +For hear her but exampled by herself: +When all her chivalry hath been in France +And she a mourning widow of her nobles, +She hath herself not only well defended +But taken and impounded as a stray +The King of Scots; whom she did send to France, +To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings +And make her chronicle as rich with praise +As is the ooze and bottom of the sea +With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries. + +WESTMORELAND +But there's a saying very old and true, +'If that you will France win, +Then with Scotland first begin:' +For once the eagle England being in prey, +To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot +Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs, +Playing the mouse in absence of the cat, +To tear and havoc more than she can eat. + +EXETER +It follows then the cat must stay at home: +Yet that is but a crush'd necessity, +Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, +And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. +While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, +The advised head defends itself at home; +For government, though high and low and lower, +Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, +Congreeing in a full and natural close, +Like music. + +CANTERBURY +Therefore doth heaven divide +The state of man in divers functions, +Setting endeavour in continual motion; +To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, +Obedience: for so work the honey-bees, +Creatures that by a rule in nature teach +The act of order to a peopled kingdom. +They have a king and officers of sorts; +Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, +Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, +Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, +Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, +Which pillage they with merry march bring home +To the tent-royal of their emperor; +Who, busied in his majesty, surveys +The singing masons building roofs of gold, +The civil citizens kneading up the honey, +The poor mechanic porters crowding in +Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, +The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, +Delivering o'er to executors pale +The lazy yawning drone. I this infer, +That many things, having full reference +To one consent, may work contrariously: +As many arrows, loosed several ways, +Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town; +As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea; +As many lines close in the dial's centre; +So may a thousand actions, once afoot. +End in one purpose, and be all well borne +Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege. +Divide your happy England into four; +Whereof take you one quarter into France, +And you withal shall make all Gallia shake. +If we, with thrice such powers left at home, +Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, +Let us be worried and our nation lose +The name of hardiness and policy. + +KING HENRY V +Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help, +And yours, the noble sinews of our power, +France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe, +Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit, +Ruling in large and ample empery +O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, +Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, +Tombless, with no remembrance over them: +Either our history shall with full mouth +Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, +Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, +Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph. + +Enter Ambassadors of France + +Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure +Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear +Your greeting is from him, not from the king. + +First Ambassador +May't please your majesty to give us leave +Freely to render what we have in charge; +Or shall we sparingly show you far off +The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? + +KING HENRY V +We are no tyrant, but a Christian king; +Unto whose grace our passion is as subject +As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons: +Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness +Tell us the Dauphin's mind. + +First Ambassador +Thus, then, in few. +Your highness, lately sending into France, +Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right +Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. +In answer of which claim, the prince our master +Says that you savour too much of your youth, +And bids you be advised there's nought in France +That can be with a nimble galliard won; +You cannot revel into dukedoms there. +He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, +This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, +Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim +Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks. + +KING HENRY V +What treasure, uncle? + +EXETER +Tennis-balls, my liege. + +KING HENRY V +We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; +His present and your pains we thank you for: +When we have march'd our rackets to these balls, +We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set +Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. +Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler +That all the courts of France will be disturb'd +With chaces. And we understand him well, +How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, +Not measuring what use we made of them. +We never valued this poor seat of England; +And therefore, living hence, did give ourself +To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common +That men are merriest when they are from home. +But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, +Be like a king and show my sail of greatness +When I do rouse me in my throne of France: +For that I have laid by my majesty +And plodded like a man for working-days, +But I will rise there with so full a glory +That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, +Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. +And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his +Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul +Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance +That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows +Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands; +Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; +And some are yet ungotten and unborn +That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn. +But this lies all within the will of God, +To whom I do appeal; and in whose name +Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, +To venge me as I may and to put forth +My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause. +So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin +His jest will savour but of shallow wit, +When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. +Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well. + +Exeunt Ambassadors + +EXETER +This was a merry message. + +KING HENRY V +We hope to make the sender blush at it. +Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour +That may give furtherance to our expedition; +For we have now no thought in us but France, +Save those to God, that run before our business. +Therefore let our proportions for these wars +Be soon collected and all things thought upon +That may with reasonable swiftness add +More feathers to our wings; for, God before, +We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door. +Therefore let every man now task his thought, +That this fair action may on foot be brought. + +Exeunt. Flourish + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now all the youth of England are on fire, +And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies: +Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought +Reigns solely in the breast of every man: +They sell the pasture now to buy the horse, +Following the mirror of all Christian kings, +With winged heels, as English Mercuries. +For now sits Expectation in the air, +And hides a sword from hilts unto the point +With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets, +Promised to Harry and his followers. +The French, advised by good intelligence +Of this most dreadful preparation, +Shake in their fear and with pale policy +Seek to divert the English purposes. +O England! model to thy inward greatness, +Like little body with a mighty heart, +What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, +Were all thy children kind and natural! +But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out +A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills +With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men, +One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second, +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, +Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland, +Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed! +Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France; +And by their hands this grace of kings must die, +If hell and treason hold their promises, +Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. +Linger your patience on; and we'll digest +The abuse of distance; force a play: +The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; +The king is set from London; and the scene +Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton; +There is the playhouse now, there must you sit: +And thence to France shall we convey you safe, +And bring you back, charming the narrow seas +To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, +We'll not offend one stomach with our play. +But, till the king come forth, and not till then, +Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH +BARDOLPH +Well met, Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH +What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet? + +NYM +For my part, I care not: I say little; but when +time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that +shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will +wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but +what though? it will toast cheese, and it will +endure cold as another man's sword will: and +there's an end. + +BARDOLPH +I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and +we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it +be so, good Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the +certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I +will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the +rendezvous of it. + +BARDOLPH +It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell +Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you +were troth-plight to her. + +NYM +I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may +sleep, and they may have their throats about them at +that time; and some say knives have edges. It must +be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet +she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I +cannot tell. + +Enter PISTOL and Hostess + +BARDOLPH +Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good +corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol! + +PISTOL +Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand, +I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. + +Hostess +No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and +board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live +honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will +be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. + +NYM and PISTOL draw + +O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we +shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. + +BARDOLPH +Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. + +NYM +Pish! + +PISTOL +Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland! + +Hostess +Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. + +NYM +Will you shog off? I would have you solus. + +PISTOL +'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile! +The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face; +The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat, +And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy, +And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! +I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels; +For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, +And flashing fire will follow. + +NYM +I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an +humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow +foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my +rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk +off, I would prick your guts a little, in good +terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +O braggart vile and damned furious wight! +The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; +Therefore exhale. + +BARDOLPH +Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the +first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. + +Draws + +PISTOL +An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. +Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give: +Thy spirits are most tall. + +NYM +I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair +terms: that is the humour of it. + +PISTOL +'Couple a gorge!' +That is the word. I thee defy again. +O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? +No; to the spital go, +And from the powdering tub of infamy +Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, +Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse: +I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly +For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. Go to. + +Enter the Boy + +Boy +Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and +you, hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. +Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and +do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. + +BARDOLPH +Away, you rogue! + +Hostess +By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of +these days. The king has killed his heart. Good +husband, come home presently. + +Exeunt Hostess and Boy + +BARDOLPH +Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to +France together: why the devil should we keep +knives to cut one another's throats? + +PISTOL +Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! + +NYM +You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +Base is the slave that pays. + +NYM +That now I will have: that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +As manhood shall compound: push home. + +They draw + +BARDOLPH +By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll +kill him; by this sword, I will. + +PISTOL +Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. + +BARDOLPH +Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: +an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. +Prithee, put up. + +NYM +I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +A noble shalt thou have, and present pay; +And liquor likewise will I give to thee, +And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood: +I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me; +Is not this just? for I shall sutler be +Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. +Give me thy hand. + +NYM +I shall have my noble? + +PISTOL +In cash most justly paid. + +NYM +Well, then, that's the humour of't. + +Re-enter Hostess + +Hostess +As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir +John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning +quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to +behold. Sweet men, come to him. + +NYM +The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's +the even of it. + +PISTOL +Nym, thou hast spoke the right; +His heart is fracted and corroborate. + +NYM +The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; +he passes some humours and careers. + +PISTOL +Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live. + +SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber. + +Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND +BEDFORD +'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. + +EXETER +They shall be apprehended by and by. + +WESTMORELAND +How smooth and even they do bear themselves! +As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, +Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. + +BEDFORD +The king hath note of all that they intend, +By interception which they dream not of. + +EXETER +Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, +Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours, +That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell +His sovereign's life to death and treachery. + +Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants + +KING HENRY V +Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. +My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham, +And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts: +Think you not that the powers we bear with us +Will cut their passage through the force of France, +Doing the execution and the act +For which we have in head assembled them? + +SCROOP +No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. + +KING HENRY V +I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded +We carry not a heart with us from hence +That grows not in a fair consent with ours, +Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish +Success and conquest to attend on us. + +CAMBRIDGE +Never was monarch better fear'd and loved +Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject +That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness +Under the sweet shade of your government. + +GREY +True: those that were your father's enemies +Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you +With hearts create of duty and of zeal. + +KING HENRY V +We therefore have great cause of thankfulness; +And shall forget the office of our hand, +Sooner than quittance of desert and merit +According to the weight and worthiness. + +SCROOP +So service shall with steeled sinews toil, +And labour shall refresh itself with hope, +To do your grace incessant services. + +KING HENRY V +We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter, +Enlarge the man committed yesterday, +That rail'd against our person: we consider +it was excess of wine that set him on; +And on his more advice we pardon him. + +SCROOP +That's mercy, but too much security: +Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example +Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. + +KING HENRY V +O, let us yet be merciful. + +CAMBRIDGE +So may your highness, and yet punish too. + +GREY +Sir, +You show great mercy, if you give him life, +After the taste of much correction. + +KING HENRY V +Alas, your too much love and care of me +Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch! +If little faults, proceeding on distemper, +Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye +When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested, +Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, +Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care +And tender preservation of our person, +Would have him punished. And now to our French causes: +Who are the late commissioners? + +CAMBRIDGE +I one, my lord: +Your highness bade me ask for it to-day. + +SCROOP +So did you me, my liege. + +GREY +And I, my royal sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours; +There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight, +Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: +Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. +My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, +We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen! +What see you in those papers that you lose +So much complexion? Look ye, how they change! +Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there +That hath so cowarded and chased your blood +Out of appearance? + +CAMBRIDGE +I do confess my fault; +And do submit me to your highness' mercy. + +GREY SCROOP +To which we all appeal. + +KING HENRY V +The mercy that was quick in us but late, +By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: +You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy; +For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, +As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. +See you, my princes, and my noble peers, +These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here, +You know how apt our love was to accord +To furnish him with all appertinents +Belonging to his honour; and this man +Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired, +And sworn unto the practises of France, +To kill us here in Hampton: to the which +This knight, no less for bounty bound to us +Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O, +What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel, +Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature! +Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels, +That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, +That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold, +Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use, +May it be possible, that foreign hire +Could out of thee extract one spark of evil +That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange, +That, though the truth of it stands off as gross +As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. +Treason and murder ever kept together, +As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose, +Working so grossly in a natural cause, +That admiration did not whoop at them: +But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in +Wonder to wait on treason and on murder: +And whatsoever cunning fiend it was +That wrought upon thee so preposterously +Hath got the voice in hell for excellence: +All other devils that suggest by treasons +Do botch and bungle up damnation +With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd +From glistering semblances of piety; +But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up, +Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason, +Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. +If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus +Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, +He might return to vasty Tartar back, +And tell the legions 'I can never win +A soul so easy as that Englishman's.' +O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected +The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? +Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned? +Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family? +Why, so didst thou: seem they religious? +Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet, +Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, +Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, +Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, +Not working with the eye without the ear, +And but in purged judgment trusting neither? +Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: +And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, +To mark the full-fraught man and best indued +With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; +For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like +Another fall of man. Their faults are open: +Arrest them to the answer of the law; +And God acquit them of their practises! + +EXETER +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Richard Earl of Cambridge. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. + +SCROOP +Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; +And I repent my fault more than my death; +Which I beseech your highness to forgive, +Although my body pay the price of it. + +CAMBRIDGE +For me, the gold of France did not seduce; +Although I did admit it as a motive +The sooner to effect what I intended: +But God be thanked for prevention; +Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, +Beseeching God and you to pardon me. + +GREY +Never did faithful subject more rejoice +At the discovery of most dangerous treason +Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself. +Prevented from a damned enterprise: +My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. +You have conspired against our royal person, +Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers +Received the golden earnest of our death; +Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, +His princes and his peers to servitude, +His subjects to oppression and contempt +And his whole kingdom into desolation. +Touching our person seek we no revenge; +But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, +Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws +We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, +Poor miserable wretches, to your death: +The taste whereof, God of his mercy give +You patience to endure, and true repentance +Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence. + +Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, guarded + +Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof +Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. +We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, +Since God so graciously hath brought to light +This dangerous treason lurking in our way +To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now +But every rub is smoothed on our way. +Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver +Our puissance into the hand of God, +Putting it straight in expedition. +Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: +No king of England, if not king of France. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. + +Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy +Hostess +Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. + +PISTOL +No; for my manly heart doth yearn. +Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: +Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, +And we must yearn therefore. + +BARDOLPH +Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in +heaven or in hell! + +Hostess +Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's +bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made +a finer end and went away an it had been any +christom child; a' parted even just between twelve +and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after +I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with +flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew +there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as +a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now, +sir John!' quoth I 'what, man! be o' good +cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or +four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' +should not think of God; I hoped there was no need +to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So +a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my +hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as +cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and +they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and +upward, and all was as cold as any stone. + +NYM +They say he cried out of sack. + +Hostess +Ay, that a' did. + +BARDOLPH +And of women. + +Hostess +Nay, that a' did not. + +Boy +Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils +incarnate. + +Hostess +A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he +never liked. + +Boy +A' said once, the devil would have him about women. + +Hostess +A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then +he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. + +Boy +Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon +Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul +burning in hell-fire? + +BARDOLPH +Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: +that's all the riches I got in his service. + +NYM +Shall we shog? the king will be gone from +Southampton. + +PISTOL +Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. +Look to my chattels and my movables: +Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' +Trust none; +For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, +And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: +Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. +Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, +Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, +To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! + +Boy +And that's but unwholesome food they say. + +PISTOL +Touch her soft mouth, and march. + +BARDOLPH +Farewell, hostess. + +Kissing her + +NYM +I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. + +PISTOL +Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. + +Hostess +Farewell; adieu. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace. + +Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others +KING OF FRANCE +Thus comes the English with full power upon us; +And more than carefully it us concerns +To answer royally in our defences. +Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, +Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, +And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, +To line and new repair our towns of war +With men of courage and with means defendant; +For England his approaches makes as fierce +As waters to the sucking of a gulf. +It fits us then to be as provident +As fear may teach us out of late examples +Left by the fatal and neglected English +Upon our fields. + +DAUPHIN +My most redoubted father, +It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; +For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, +Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, +But that defences, musters, preparations, +Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, +As were a war in expectation. +Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth +To view the sick and feeble parts of France: +And let us do it with no show of fear; +No, with no more than if we heard that England +Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: +For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, +Her sceptre so fantastically borne +By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, +That fear attends her not. + +Constable +O peace, Prince Dauphin! +You are too much mistaken in this king: +Question your grace the late ambassadors, +With what great state he heard their embassy, +How well supplied with noble counsellors, +How modest in exception, and withal +How terrible in constant resolution, +And you shall find his vanities forespent +Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, +Covering discretion with a coat of folly; +As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots +That shall first spring and be most delicate. + +DAUPHIN +Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; +But though we think it so, it is no matter: +In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh +The enemy more mighty than he seems: +So the proportions of defence are fill'd; +Which of a weak or niggardly projection +Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting +A little cloth. + +KING OF FRANCE +Think we King Harry strong; +And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. +The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; +And he is bred out of that bloody strain +That haunted us in our familiar paths: +Witness our too much memorable shame +When Cressy battle fatally was struck, +And all our princes captiv'd by the hand +Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; +Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, +Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, +Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, +Mangle the work of nature and deface +The patterns that by God and by French fathers +Had twenty years been made. This is a stem +Of that victorious stock; and let us fear +The native mightiness and fate of him. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Ambassadors from Harry King of England +Do crave admittance to your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. + +Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords + +You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. + +DAUPHIN +Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs +Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten +Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, +Take up the English short, and let them know +Of what a monarchy you are the head: +Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin +As self-neglecting. + +Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train + +KING OF FRANCE +From our brother England? + +EXETER +From him; and thus he greets your majesty. +He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, +That you divest yourself, and lay apart +The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, +By law of nature and of nations, 'long +To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown +And all wide-stretched honours that pertain +By custom and the ordinance of times +Unto the crown of France. That you may know +'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, +Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, +Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, +He sends you this most memorable line, +In every branch truly demonstrative; +Willing to overlook this pedigree: +And when you find him evenly derived +From his most famed of famous ancestors, +Edward the Third, he bids you then resign +Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held +From him the native and true challenger. + +KING OF FRANCE +Or else what follows? + +EXETER +Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown +Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: +Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, +In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, +That, if requiring fail, he will compel; +And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, +Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy +On the poor souls for whom this hungry war +Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head +Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries +The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans, +For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, +That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. +This is his claim, his threatening and my message; +Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, +To whom expressly I bring greeting too. + +KING OF FRANCE +For us, we will consider of this further: +To-morrow shall you bear our full intent +Back to our brother England. + +DAUPHIN +For the Dauphin, +I stand here for him: what to him from England? + +EXETER +Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, +And any thing that may not misbecome +The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. +Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness +Do not, in grant of all demands at large, +Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, +He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, +That caves and womby vaultages of France +Shall chide your trespass and return your mock +In second accent of his ordnance. + +DAUPHIN +Say, if my father render fair return, +It is against my will; for I desire +Nothing but odds with England: to that end, +As matching to his youth and vanity, +I did present him with the Paris balls. + +EXETER +He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, +Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: +And, be assured, you'll find a difference, +As we his subjects have in wonder found, +Between the promise of his greener days +And these he masters now: now he weighs time +Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read +In your own losses, if he stay in France. + +KING OF FRANCE +To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. + +EXETER +Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king +Come here himself to question our delay; +For he is footed in this land already. + +KING OF FRANCE +You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions: +A night is but small breath and little pause +To answer matters of this consequence. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT III +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies +In motion of no less celerity +Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen +The well-appointed king at Hampton pier +Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet +With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: +Play with your fancies, and in them behold +Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; +Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give +To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails, +Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, +Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, +Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think +You stand upon the ravage and behold +A city on the inconstant billows dancing; +For so appears this fleet majestical, +Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow: +Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, +And leave your England, as dead midnight still, +Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women, +Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance; +For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd +With one appearing hair, that will not follow +These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? +Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; +Behold the ordnance on their carriages, +With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. +Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back; +Tells Harry that the king doth offer him +Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry, +Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. +The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner +With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, + +Alarum, and chambers go off + +And down goes all before them. Still be kind, +And eke out our performance with your mind. + +Exit + +SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders +KING HENRY V +Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; +Or close the wall up with our English dead. +In peace there's nothing so becomes a man +As modest stillness and humility: +But when the blast of war blows in our ears, +Then imitate the action of the tiger; +Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, +Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; +Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; +Let pry through the portage of the head +Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it +As fearfully as doth a galled rock +O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, +Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. +Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, +Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit +To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. +Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! +Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, +Have in these parts from morn till even fought +And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: +Dishonour not your mothers; now attest +That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. +Be copy now to men of grosser blood, +And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, +Whose limbs were made in England, show us here +The mettle of your pasture; let us swear +That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; +For there is none of you so mean and base, +That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. +I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, +Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: +Follow your spirit, and upon this charge +Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' + +Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy +BARDOLPH +On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach! + +NYM +Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot; +and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: +the humour of it is too hot, that is the very +plain-song of it. + +PISTOL +The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound: +Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die; +And sword and shield, +In bloody field, +Doth win immortal fame. + +Boy +Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give +all my fame for a pot of ale and safety. + +PISTOL +And I: +If wishes would prevail with me, +My purpose should not fail with me, +But thither would I hie. + +Boy +As duly, but not as truly, +As bird doth sing on bough. + +Enter FLUELLEN + +FLUELLEN +Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions! + +Driving them forward + +PISTOL +Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould. +Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage, +Abate thy rage, great duke! +Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck! + +NYM +These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours. + +Exeunt all but Boy + +Boy +As young as I am, I have observed these three +swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they +three, though they would serve me, could not be man +to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to +a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and +red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but +fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue +and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks +words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath +heard that men of few words are the best men; and +therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a' +should be thought a coward: but his few bad words +are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never +broke any man's head but his own, and that was +against a post when he was drunk. They will steal +any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a +lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for +three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn +brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a +fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the +men would carry coals. They would have me as +familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their +handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, +if I should take from another's pocket to put into +mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I +must leave them, and seek some better service: +their villany goes against my weak stomach, and +therefore I must cast it up. + +Exit + +Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following + +GOWER +Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the +mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you. + +FLUELLEN +To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good +to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is +not according to the disciplines of the war: the +concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, +the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look +you, is digt himself four yard under the +countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up +all, if there is not better directions. + +GOWER +The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the +siege is given, is altogether directed by an +Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith. + +FLUELLEN +It is Captain Macmorris, is it not? + +GOWER +I think it be. + +FLUELLEN +By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will +verify as much in his beard: be has no more +directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look +you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog. + +Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY + +GOWER +Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman, +that is certain; and of great expedition and +knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular +knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will +maintain his argument as well as any military man in +the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars +of the Romans. + +JAMY +I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN +God-den to your worship, good Captain James. + +GOWER +How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the +mines? have the pioneers given o'er? + +MACMORRIS +By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give +over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I +swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; +it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so +Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done, +tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done! + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you +voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, +as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of +the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, +look you, and friendly communication; partly to +satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, +look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of +the military discipline; that is the point. + +JAMY +It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: +and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick +occasion; that sall I, marry. + +MACMORRIS +It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the +day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the +king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The +town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the +breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing: +'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to +stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is +throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there +ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la! + +JAMY +By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves +to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i' +the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay +'t as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do, +that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full +fain hear some question 'tween you tway. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your +correction, there is not many of your nation-- + +MACMORRIS +Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, +and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish +my nation? Who talks of my nation? + +FLUELLEN +Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is +meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think +you do not use me with that affability as in +discretion you ought to use me, look you: being as +good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of +war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in +other particularities. + +MACMORRIS +I do not know you so good a man as myself: so +Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. + +GOWER +Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. + +JAMY +A! that's a foul fault. + +A parley sounded + +GOWER +The town sounds a parley. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, when there is more better +opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so +bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; +and there is an end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the gates. + +The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train +KING HENRY V +How yet resolves the governor of the town? +This is the latest parle we will admit; +Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves; +Or like to men proud of destruction +Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier, +A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, +If I begin the battery once again, +I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur +Till in her ashes she lie buried. +The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, +And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, +In liberty of bloody hand shall range +With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass +Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. +What is it then to me, if impious war, +Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends, +Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats +Enlink'd to waste and desolation? +What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, +If your pure maidens fall into the hand +Of hot and forcing violation? +What rein can hold licentious wickedness +When down the hill he holds his fierce career? +We may as bootless spend our vain command +Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil +As send precepts to the leviathan +To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, +Take pity of your town and of your people, +Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; +Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace +O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds +Of heady murder, spoil and villany. +If not, why, in a moment look to see +The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand +Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; +Your fathers taken by the silver beards, +And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls, +Your naked infants spitted upon pikes, +Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused +Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry +At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. +What say you? will you yield, and this avoid, +Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd? + +GOVERNOR +Our expectation hath this day an end: +The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated, +Returns us that his powers are yet not ready +To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king, +We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. +Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours; +For we no longer are defensible. + +KING HENRY V +Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter, +Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain, +And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French: +Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle, +The winter coming on and sickness growing +Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais. +To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest; +To-morrow for the march are we addrest. + +Flourish. The King and his train enter the town + +SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace. + +Enter KATHARINE and ALICE +KATHARINE +Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage. + +ALICE +Un peu, madame. + +KATHARINE +Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a +parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois? + +ALICE +La main? elle est appelee de hand. + +KATHARINE +De hand. Et les doigts? + +ALICE +Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me +souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont +appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres. + +KATHARINE +La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense +que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots +d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles? + +ALICE +Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails. + +KATHARINE +De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de +hand, de fingres, et de nails. + +ALICE +C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. + +KATHARINE +Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras. + +ALICE +De arm, madame. + +KATHARINE +Et le coude? + +ALICE +De elbow. + +KATHARINE +De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les +mots que vous m'avez appris des a present. + +ALICE +Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. + +KATHARINE +Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres, +de nails, de arma, de bilbow. + +ALICE +De elbow, madame. + +KATHARINE +O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment +appelez-vous le col? + +ALICE +De neck, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nick. Et le menton? + +ALICE +De chin. + +KATHARINE +De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin. + +ALICE +Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez +les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. + +KATHARINE +Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, +et en peu de temps. + +ALICE +N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne? + +KATHARINE +Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de +fingres, de mails-- + +ALICE +De nails, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nails, de arm, de ilbow. + +ALICE +Sauf votre honneur, de elbow. + +KATHARINE +Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment +appelez-vous le pied et la robe? + +ALICE +De foot, madame; et de coun. + +KATHARINE +De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots +de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et +non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais +prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France +pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le coun! +Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon +ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de +elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun. + +ALICE +Excellent, madame! + +KATHARINE +C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others +KING OF FRANCE +'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme. + +Constable +And if he be not fought withal, my lord, +Let us not live in France; let us quit all +And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. + +DAUPHIN +O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, +The emptying of our fathers' luxury, +Our scions, put in wild and savage stock, +Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, +And overlook their grafters? + +BOURBON +Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! +Mort de ma vie! if they march along +Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, +To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm +In that nook-shotten isle of Albion. + +Constable +Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle? +Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull, +On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, +Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, +A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth, +Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? +And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, +Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land, +Let us not hang like roping icicles +Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people +Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! +Poor we may call them in their native lords. + +DAUPHIN +By faith and honour, +Our madams mock at us, and plainly say +Our mettle is bred out and they will give +Their bodies to the lust of English youth +To new-store France with bastard warriors. + +BOURBON +They bid us to the English dancing-schools, +And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos; +Saying our grace is only in our heels, +And that we are most lofty runaways. + +KING OF FRANCE +Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence: +Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. +Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged +More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: +Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; +You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, +Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; +Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, +Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg, +Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; +High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights, +For your great seats now quit you of great shames. +Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land +With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur: +Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow +Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat +The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon: +Go down upon him, you have power enough, +And in a captive chariot into Rouen +Bring him our prisoner. + +Constable +This becomes the great. +Sorry am I his numbers are so few, +His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march, +For I am sure, when he shall see our army, +He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear +And for achievement offer us his ransom. + +KING OF FRANCE +Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy. +And let him say to England that we send +To know what willing ransom he will give. +Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen. + +DAUPHIN +Not so, I do beseech your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +Be patient, for you shall remain with us. +Now forth, lord constable and princes all, +And quickly bring us word of England's fall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy. + +Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting +GOWER +How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge? + +FLUELLEN +I assure you, there is very excellent services +committed at the bridge. + +GOWER +Is the Duke of Exeter safe? + +FLUELLEN +The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; +and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my +heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and +my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and +blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the +bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. +There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the +pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as +valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no +estimation in the world; but did see him do as +gallant service. + +GOWER +What do you call him? + +FLUELLEN +He is called Aunchient Pistol. + +GOWER +I know him not. + +Enter PISTOL + +FLUELLEN +Here is the man. + +PISTOL +Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: +The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well. + +FLUELLEN +Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at +his hands. + +PISTOL +Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, +And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate, +And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, +That goddess blind, +That stands upon the rolling restless stone-- + +FLUELLEN +By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is +painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to +signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is +painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which +is the moral of it, that she is turning, and +inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her +foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, +which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth, +the poet makes a most excellent description of it: +Fortune is an excellent moral. + +PISTOL +Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; +For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be: +A damned death! +Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free +And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate: +But Exeter hath given the doom of death +For pax of little price. +Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice: +And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut +With edge of penny cord and vile reproach: +Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. + +FLUELLEN +Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning. + +The First part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Westminster Abbey. + +Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, & c +BEDFORD +Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! +Comets, importing change of times and states, +Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, +And with them scourge the bad revolting stars +That have consented unto Henry's death! +King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! +England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + +GLOUCESTER +England ne'er had a king until his time. +Virtue he had, deserving to command: +His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams: +His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; +His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire, +More dazzled and drove back his enemies +Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces. +What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech: +He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + +EXETER +We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood? +Henry is dead and never shall revive: +Upon a wooden coffin we attend, +And death's dishonourable victory +We with our stately presence glorify, +Like captives bound to a triumphant car. +What! shall we curse the planets of mishap +That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? +Or shall we think the subtle-witted French +Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him +By magic verses have contrived his end? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. +Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day +So dreadful will not be as was his sight. +The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: +The church's prayers made him so prosperous. + +GLOUCESTER +The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, +His thread of life had not so soon decay'd: +None do you like but an effeminate prince, +Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector +And lookest to command the prince and realm. +Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, +More than God or religious churchmen may. + +GLOUCESTER +Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh, +And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st +Except it be to pray against thy foes. + +BEDFORD +Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace: +Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us: +Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms: +Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead. +Posterity, await for wretched years, +When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck, +Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, +And none but women left to wail the dead. +Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: +Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, +Combat with adverse planets in the heavens! +A far more glorious star thy soul will make +Than Julius Caesar or bright-- + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My honourable lords, health to you all! +Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, +Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: +Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, +Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. + +BEDFORD +What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? +Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns +Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + +GLOUCESTER +Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? +If Henry were recall'd to life again, +These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. + +EXETER +How were they lost? what treachery was used? + +Messenger +No treachery; but want of men and money. +Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, +That here you maintain several factions, +And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought, +You are disputing of your generals: +One would have lingering wars with little cost; +Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; +A third thinks, without expense at all, +By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. +Awake, awake, English nobility! +Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot: +Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; +Of England's coat one half is cut away. + +EXETER +Were our tears wanting to this funeral, +These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. + +BEDFORD +Me they concern; Regent I am of France. +Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France. +Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! +Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, +To weep their intermissive miseries. + +Enter to them another Messenger + +Messenger +Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. +France is revolted from the English quite, +Except some petty towns of no import: +The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims; +The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; +Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; +The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. + +EXETER +The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! +O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + +GLOUCESTER +We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats. +Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. + +BEDFORD +Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? +An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, +Wherewith already France is overrun. + +Enter another Messenger + +Messenger +My gracious lords, to add to your laments, +Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, +I must inform you of a dismal fight +Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? + +Messenger +O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: +The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. +The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, +Retiring from the siege of Orleans, +Having full scarce six thousand in his troop. +By three and twenty thousand of the French +Was round encompassed and set upon. +No leisure had he to enrank his men; +He wanted pikes to set before his archers; +Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges +They pitched in the ground confusedly, +To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. +More than three hours the fight continued; +Where valiant Talbot above human thought +Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: +Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; +Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew: +The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms; +All the whole army stood agazed on him: +His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit +A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain +And rush'd into the bowels of the battle. +Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up, +If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward: +He, being in the vaward, placed behind +With purpose to relieve and follow them, +Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. +Hence grew the general wreck and massacre; +Enclosed were they with their enemies: +A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, +Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, +Whom all France with their chief assembled strength +Durst not presume to look once in the face. + +BEDFORD +Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, +For living idly here in pomp and ease, +Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, +Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. + +Messenger +O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, +And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford: +Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. + +BEDFORD +His ransom there is none but I shall pay: +I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne: +His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; +Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. +Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; +Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, +To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: +Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, +Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. + +Messenger +So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; +The English army is grown weak and faint: +The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, +And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, +Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. + +EXETER +Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, +Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, +Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + +BEDFORD +I do remember it; and here take my leave, +To go about my preparation. + +Exit + +GLOUCESTER +I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, +To view the artillery and munition; +And then I will proclaim young Henry king. + +Exit + +EXETER +To Eltham will I, where the young king is, +Being ordain'd his special governor, +And for his safety there I'll best devise. + +Exit + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Each hath his place and function to attend: +I am left out; for me nothing remains. +But long I will not be Jack out of office: +The king from Eltham I intend to steal +And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. France. Before Orleans. + +Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers +CHARLES +Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens +So in the earth, to this day is not known: +Late did he shine upon the English side; +Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. +What towns of any moment but we have? +At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; +Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, +Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + +ALENCON +They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: +Either they must be dieted like mules +And have their provender tied to their mouths +Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + +REIGNIER +Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here? +Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: +Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury; +And he may well in fretting spend his gall, +Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + +CHARLES +Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them. +Now for the honour of the forlorn French! +Him I forgive my death that killeth me +When he sees me go back one foot or fly. + +Exeunt + +Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER + +CHARLES +Who ever saw the like? what men have I! +Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled, +But that they left me 'midst my enemies. + +REIGNIER +Salisbury is a desperate homicide; +He fighteth as one weary of his life. +The other lords, like lions wanting food, +Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + +ALENCON +Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, +England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, +During the time Edward the Third did reign. +More truly now may this be verified; +For none but Samsons and Goliases +It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! +Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose +They had such courage and audacity? + +CHARLES +Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves, +And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: +Of old I know them; rather with their teeth +The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + +REIGNIER +I think, by some odd gimmors or device +Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on; +Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. +By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + +ALENCON +Be it so. + +Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + +CHARLES +Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd: +Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? +Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand: +A holy maid hither with me I bring, +Which by a vision sent to her from heaven +Ordained is to raise this tedious siege +And drive the English forth the bounds of France. +The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, +Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: +What's past and what's to come she can descry. +Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, +For they are certain and unfallible. + +CHARLES +Go, call her in. + +Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +But first, to try her skill, +Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place: +Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern: +By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + +Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE + +REIGNIER +Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? +Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; +I know thee well, though never seen before. +Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me: +In private will I talk with thee apart. +Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. + +REIGNIER +She takes upon her bravely at first dash. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, +My wit untrain'd in any kind of art. +Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased +To shine on my contemptible estate: +Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, +And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, +God's mother deigned to appear to me +And in a vision full of majesty +Will'd me to leave my base vocation +And free my country from calamity: +Her aid she promised and assured success: +In complete glory she reveal'd herself; +And, whereas I was black and swart before, +With those clear rays which she infused on me +That beauty am I bless'd with which you see. +Ask me what question thou canst possible, +And I will answer unpremeditated: +My courage try by combat, if thou darest, +And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. +Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate, +If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + +CHARLES +Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms: +Only this proof I'll of thy valour make, +In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, +And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; +Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword, +Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; +The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's +churchyard, +Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + +CHARLES +Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. + +Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes + +CHARLES +Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon +And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. + +CHARLES +Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: +Impatiently I burn with thy desire; +My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. +Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, +Let me thy servant and not sovereign be: +'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I must not yield to any rites of love, +For my profession's sacred from above: +When I have chased all thy foes from hence, +Then will I think upon a recompense. + +CHARLES +Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + +REIGNIER +My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + +ALENCON +Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; +Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + +REIGNIER +Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + +ALENCON +He may mean more than we poor men do know: +These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. + +REIGNIER +My lord, where are you? what devise you on? +Shall we give over Orleans, or no? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! +Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. + +CHARLES +What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Assign'd am I to be the English scourge. +This night the siege assuredly I'll raise: +Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, +Since I have entered into these wars. +Glory is like a circle in the water, +Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself +Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. +With Henry's death the English circle ends; +Dispersed are the glories it included. +Now am I like that proud insulting ship +Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + +CHARLES +Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? +Thou with an eagle art inspired then. +Helen, the mother of great Constantine, +Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee. +Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth, +How may I reverently worship thee enough? + +ALENCON +Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + +REIGNIER +Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; +Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized. + +CHARLES +Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it: +No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before the Tower. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats +GLOUCESTER +I am come to survey the Tower this day: +Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. +Where be these warders, that they wait not here? +Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. + +First Warder +[Within] Who's there that knocks so imperiously? +First Serving-Man It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + +Second Warder +[Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. +First Serving-Man Villains, answer you so the lord protector? + +First Warder +[Within] The Lord protect him! so we answer him: +We do no otherwise than we are will'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? +There's none protector of the realm but I. +Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize. +Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? + +Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within + +WOODVILE +What noise is this? what traitors have we here? + +GLOUCESTER +Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? +Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter. + +WOODVILE +Have patience, noble duke; I may not open; +The Cardinal of Winchester forbids: +From him I have express commandment +That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + +GLOUCESTER +Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me? +Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate, +Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook? +Thou art no friend to God or to the king: +Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. +Serving-Men Open the gates unto the lord protector, +Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. + +Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this? + +GLOUCESTER +Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +I do, thou most usurping proditor, +And not protector, of the king or realm. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, +Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord; +Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin: +I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, +If thou proceed in this thy insolence. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: +This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, +To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back: +Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth +I'll use to carry thee out of this place. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face. + +GLOUCESTER +What! am I dared and bearded to my face? +Draw, men, for all this privileged place; +Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard, +I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly: +Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat: +In spite of pope or dignities of church, +Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope. + +GLOUCESTER +Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope! +Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay? +Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array. +Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite! + +Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly- burly the Mayor of London and his Officers + +Mayor +Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, +Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + +GLOUCESTER +Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: +Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, +Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, +One that still motions war and never peace, +O'ercharging your free purses with large fines, +That seeks to overthrow religion, +Because he is protector of the realm, +And would have armour here out of the Tower, +To crown himself king and suppress the prince. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not answer thee with words, but blows. + +Here they skirmish again + +Mayor +Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife +But to make open proclamation: +Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst, +Cry. + +Officer +All manner of men assembled here in arms this day +against God's peace and the king's, we charge and +command you, in his highness' name, to repair to +your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, +handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger, +henceforward, upon pain of death. + +GLOUCESTER +Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: +But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure: +Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. + +Mayor +I'll call for clubs, if you will not away. +This cardinal's more haughty than the devil. + +GLOUCESTER +Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head; +For I intend to have it ere long. + +Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF WINCHESTER with their Serving-men + +Mayor +See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart. +Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear! +I myself fight not once in forty year. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Orleans. + +Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy +Master-Gunner Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged, +And how the English have the suburbs won. + +Boy +Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, +Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim. +Master-Gunner But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me: +Chief master-gunner am I of this town; +Something I must do to procure me grace. +The prince's espials have informed me +How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd, +Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars +In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, +And thence discover how with most advantage +They may vex us with shot, or with assault. +To intercept this inconvenience, +A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed; +And even these three days have I watch'd, +If I could see them. +Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer. +If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; +And thou shalt find me at the governor's. + +Exit + +Boy +Father, I warrant you; take you no care; +I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. + +Exit + +Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT, GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others + +SALISBURY +Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! +How wert thou handled being prisoner? +Or by what means got'st thou to be released? +Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + +TALBOT +The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner +Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; +For him was I exchanged and ransomed. +But with a baser man of arms by far +Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: +Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death, +Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd. +In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. +But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart, +Whom with my bare fists I would execute, +If I now had him brought into my power. + +SALISBURY +Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd. + +TALBOT +With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. +In open market-place produced they me, +To be a public spectacle to all: +Here, said they, is the terror of the French, +The scarecrow that affrights our children so. +Then broke I from the officers that led me, +And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground, +To hurl at the beholders of my shame: +My grisly countenance made others fly; +None durst come near for fear of sudden death. +In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; +So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread, +That they supposed I could rend bars of steel, +And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: +Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, +That walked about me every minute-while; +And if I did but stir out of my bed, +Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + +Enter the Boy with a linstock + +SALISBURY +I grieve to hear what torments you endured, +But we will be revenged sufficiently +Now it is supper-time in Orleans: +Here, through this grate, I count each one +and view the Frenchmen how they fortify: +Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale, +Let me have your express opinions +Where is best place to make our battery next. + +GARGRAVE +I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords. + +GLANSDALE +And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + +TALBOT +For aught I see, this city must be famish'd, +Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. + +Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall + +SALISBURY +O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + +GARGRAVE +O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man! + +TALBOT +What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? +Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak: +How farest thou, mirror of all martial men? +One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! +Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand +That hath contrived this woful tragedy! +In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; +Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; +Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, +His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. +Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, +One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: +The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. +Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, +If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! +Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? +Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. +Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort; +Thou shalt not die whiles-- +He beckons with his hand and smiles on me. +As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, +Remember to avenge me on the French.' +Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, +Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: +Wretched shall France be only in my name. + +Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens + +What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? +Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head: +The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, +A holy prophetess new risen up, +Is come with a great power to raise the siege. + +Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans + +TALBOT +Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! +It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. +Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you: +Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, +Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels, +And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. +Convey me Salisbury into his tent, +And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them then re-enter TALBOT +TALBOT +Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? +Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: +A woman clad in armour chaseth them. + +Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE + +Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee; +Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: +Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, +And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. + +Here they fight + +TALBOT +Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? +My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage +And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder. +But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. + +They fight again + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: +I must go victual Orleans forthwith. + +A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers + +O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. +Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; +Help Salisbury to make his testament: +This day is ours, as many more shall be. + +Exit + +TALBOT +My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; +I know not where I am, nor what I do; +A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, +Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: +So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench +Are from their hives and houses driven away. +They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; +Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. + +A short alarum + +Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, +Or tear the lions out of England's coat; +Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: +Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, +Or horse or oxen from the leopard, +As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. + +Alarum. Here another skirmish + +It will not be: retire into your trenches: +You all consented unto Salisbury's death, +For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. +Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans, +In spite of us or aught that we could do. +O, would I were to die with Salisbury! +The shame hereof will make me hide my head. + +Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish + +SCENE VI. The same. + +Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Advance our waving colours on the walls; +Rescued is Orleans from the English +Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. + +CHARLES +Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, +How shall I honour thee for this success? +Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens +That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. +France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! +Recover'd is the town of Orleans: +More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + +REIGNIER +Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? +Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires +And feast and banquet in the open streets, +To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + +ALENCON +All France will be replete with mirth and joy, +When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. + +CHARLES +'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; +For which I will divide my crown with her, +And all the priests and friars in my realm +Shall in procession sing her endless praise. +A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear +Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: +In memory of her when she is dead, +Her ashes, in an urn more precious +Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius, +Transported shall be at high festivals +Before the kings and queens of France. +No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, +But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. +Come in, and let us banquet royally, +After this golden day of victory. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Before Orleans. + +Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels +Sergeant +Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: +If any noise or soldier you perceive +Near to the walls, by some apparent sign +Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + +First Sentinel +Sergeant, you shall. + +Exit Sergeant + +Thus are poor servitors, +When others sleep upon their quiet beds, +Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march + +TALBOT +Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, +By whose approach the regions of Artois, +Wallon and Picardy are friends to us, +This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, +Having all day caroused and banqueted: +Embrace we then this opportunity +As fitting best to quittance their deceit +Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. + +BEDFORD +Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame, +Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, +To join with witches and the help of hell! + +BURGUNDY +Traitors have never other company. +But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + +TALBOT +A maid, they say. + +BEDFORD +A maid! and be so martial! + +BURGUNDY +Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, +If underneath the standard of the French +She carry armour as she hath begun. + +TALBOT +Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: +God is our fortress, in whose conquering name +Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + +BEDFORD +Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. + +TALBOT +Not all together: better far, I guess, +That we do make our entrance several ways; +That, if it chance the one of us do fail, +The other yet may rise against their force. + +BEDFORD +Agreed: I'll to yond corner. + +BURGUNDY +And I to this. + +TALBOT +And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. +Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right +Of English Henry, shall this night appear +How much in duty I am bound to both. + +Sentinels +Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault! + +Cry: 'St. George,' 'A Talbot.' + +The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready + +ALENCON +How now, my lords! what, all unready so? + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well. + +REIGNIER +'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, +Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. + +ALENCON +Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms, +Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise +More venturous or desperate than this. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + +REIGNIER +If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. + +ALENCON +Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard. + +Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE + +CHARLES +Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? +Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, +Make us partakers of a little gain, +That now our loss might be ten times so much? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend! +At all times will you have my power alike? +Sleeping or waking must I still prevail, +Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? +Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good, +This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + +CHARLES +Duke of Alencon, this was your default, +That, being captain of the watch to-night, +Did look no better to that weighty charge. + +ALENCON +Had all your quarters been as safely kept +As that whereof I had the government, +We had not been thus shamefully surprised. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Mine was secure. + +REIGNIER +And so was mine, my lord. + +CHARLES +And, for myself, most part of all this night, +Within her quarter and mine own precinct +I was employ'd in passing to and fro, +About relieving of the sentinels: +Then how or which way should they first break in? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Question, my lords, no further of the case, +How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place +But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. +And now there rests no other shift but this; +To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed, +And lay new platforms to endamage them. + +Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their clothes behind + +Soldier +I'll be so bold to take what they have left. +The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; +For I have loaden me with many spoils, +Using no other weapon but his name. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Orleans. Within the town. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others +BEDFORD +The day begins to break, and night is fled, +Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. +Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. + +Retreat sounded + +TALBOT +Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, +And here advance it in the market-place, +The middle centre of this cursed town. +Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; +For every drop of blood was drawn from him, +There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight. +And that hereafter ages may behold +What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, +Within their chiefest temple I'll erect +A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: +Upon the which, that every one may read, +Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans, +The treacherous manner of his mournful death +And what a terror he had been to France. +But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, +I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, +His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, +Nor any of his false confederates. + +BEDFORD +'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, +Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, +They did amongst the troops of armed men +Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + +BURGUNDY +Myself, as far as I could well discern +For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, +Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, +When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, +Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves +That could not live asunder day or night. +After that things are set in order here, +We'll follow them with all the power we have. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +All hail, my lords! which of this princely train +Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts +So much applauded through the realm of France? + +TALBOT +Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him? + +Messenger +The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, +With modesty admiring thy renown, +By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe +To visit her poor castle where she lies, +That she may boast she hath beheld the man +Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + +BURGUNDY +Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars +Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, +When ladies crave to be encounter'd with. +You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + +TALBOT +Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men +Could not prevail with all their oratory, +Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled: +And therefore tell her I return great thanks, +And in submission will attend on her. +Will not your honours bear me company? + +BEDFORD +No, truly; it is more than manners will: +And I have heard it said, unbidden guests +Are often welcomest when they are gone. + +TALBOT +Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, +I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. +Come hither, captain. + +Whispers + +You perceive my mind? + +Captain +I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle. + +Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Porter, remember what I gave in charge; +And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + +Porter +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, +I shall as famous be by this exploit +As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. +Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight, +And his achievements of no less account: +Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, +To give their censure of these rare reports. + +Enter Messenger and TALBOT + +Messenger +Madam, +According as your ladyship desired, +By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +And he is welcome. What! is this the man? + +Messenger +Madam, it is. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Is this the scourge of France? +Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad +That with his name the mothers still their babes? +I see report is fabulous and false: +I thought I should have seen some Hercules, +A second Hector, for his grim aspect, +And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. +Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! +It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp +Should strike such terror to his enemies. + +TALBOT +Madam, I have been bold to trouble you; +But since your ladyship is not at leisure, +I'll sort some other time to visit you. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. + +Messenger +Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves +To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + +TALBOT +Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, +I go to certify her Talbot's here. + +Re-enter Porter with keys + +COUNTESS + +The Second part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 2 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL, on the one side; QUEEN MARGARET, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other +SUFFOLK +As by your high imperial majesty +I had in charge at my depart for France, +As procurator to your excellence, +To marry Princess Margaret for your grace, +So, in the famous ancient city, Tours, +In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, +The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and Alencon, +Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops, +I have perform'd my task and was espoused: +And humbly now upon my bended knee, +In sight of England and her lordly peers, +Deliver up my title in the queen +To your most gracious hands, that are the substance +Of that great shadow I did represent; +The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, +The fairest queen that ever king received. + +KING HENRY VI +Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret: +I can express no kinder sign of love +Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life, +Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! +For thou hast given me in this beauteous face +A world of earthly blessings to my soul, +If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great King of England and my gracious lord, +The mutual conference that my mind hath had, +By day, by night, waking and in my dreams, +In courtly company or at my beads, +With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign, +Makes me the bolder to salute my king +With ruder terms, such as my wit affords +And over-joy of heart doth minister. + +KING HENRY VI +Her sight did ravish; but her grace in speech, +Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, +Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys; +Such is the fulness of my heart's content. +Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. + +ALL +[Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's +happiness! + +QUEEN MARGARET +We thank you all. + +Flourish + +SUFFOLK +My lord protector, so it please your grace, +Here are the articles of contracted peace +Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, +For eighteen months concluded by consent. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'Imprimis, it is agreed between the French +king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of +Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that +the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, +daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and +Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the +thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy +of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released +and delivered to the king her father'-- + +Lets the paper fall + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, how now! + +GLOUCESTER +Pardon me, gracious lord; +Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart +And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. + +CARDINAL +[Reads] 'Item, It is further agreed between them, +that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be +released and delivered over to the king her father, +and she sent over of the King of England's own +proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.' + +KING HENRY VI +They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down: +We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk, +And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York, +We here discharge your grace from being regent +I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months +Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester, +Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, +Salisbury, and Warwick; +We thank you all for the great favour done, +In entertainment to my princely queen. +Come, let us in, and with all speed provide +To see her coronation be perform'd. + +Exeunt KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and SUFFOLK + +GLOUCESTER +Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, +To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, +Your grief, the common grief of all the land. +What! did my brother Henry spend his youth, +His valour, coin and people, in the wars? +Did he so often lodge in open field, +In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, +To conquer France, his true inheritance? +And did my brother Bedford toil his wits, +To keep by policy what Henry got? +Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, +Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, +Received deep scars in France and Normandy? +Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, +With all the learned council of the realm, +Studied so long, sat in the council-house +Early and late, debating to and fro +How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, +And had his highness in his infancy +Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? +And shall these labours and these honours die? +Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance, +Your deeds of war and all our counsel die? +O peers of England, shameful is this league! +Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, +Blotting your names from books of memory, +Razing the characters of your renown, +Defacing monuments of conquer'd France, +Undoing all, as all had never been! + +CARDINAL +Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, +This peroration with such circumstance? +For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can; +But now it is impossible we should: +Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, +Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine +Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style +Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. + +SALISBURY +Now, by the death of Him that died for all, +These counties were the keys of Normandy. +But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son? + +WARWICK +For grief that they are past recovery: +For, were there hope to conquer them again, +My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. +Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both; +Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer: +And are the cities, that I got with wounds, +Delivered up again with peaceful words? +Mort Dieu! + +YORK +For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate, +That dims the honour of this warlike isle! +France should have torn and rent my very heart, +Before I would have yielded to this league. +I never read but England's kings have had +Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives: +And our King Henry gives away his own, +To match with her that brings no vantages. + +GLOUCESTER +A proper jest, and never heard before, +That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth +For costs and charges in transporting her! +She should have stayed in France and starved +in France, Before-- + +CARDINAL +My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot: +It was the pleasure of my lord the King. + +GLOUCESTER +My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind; +'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, +But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye. +Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face +I see thy fury: if I longer stay, +We shall begin our ancient bickerings. +Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone, +I prophesied France will be lost ere long. + +Exit + +CARDINAL +So, there goes our protector in a rage. +'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, +Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, +And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. +Consider, lords, he is the next of blood, +And heir apparent to the English crown: +Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, +And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west, +There's reason he should be displeased at it. +Look to it, lords! let not his smoothing words +Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect. +What though the common people favour him, +Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of +Gloucester,' +Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice, +'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!' +With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!' +I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss, +He will be found a dangerous protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why should he, then, protect our sovereign, +He being of age to govern of himself? +Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, +And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, +We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat. + +CARDINAL +This weighty business will not brook delay: +I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. + +Exit + +SOMERSET +Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride +And greatness of his place be grief to us, +Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal: +His insolence is more intolerable +Than all the princes in the land beside: +If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector, +Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal. + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET + +SALISBURY +Pride went before, ambition follows him. +While these do labour for their own preferment, +Behoves it us to labour for the realm. +I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester +Did bear him like a noble gentleman. +Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, +More like a soldier than a man o' the church, +As stout and proud as he were lord of all, +Swear like a ruffian and demean himself +Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. +Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, +Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping, +Hath won the greatest favour of the commons, +Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey: +And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, +In bringing them to civil discipline, +Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, +When thou wert regent for our sovereign, +Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people: +Join we together, for the public good, +In what we can, to bridle and suppress +The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal, +With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; +And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds, +While they do tend the profit of the land. + +WARWICK +So God help Warwick, as he loves the land, +And common profit of his country! + +YORK +[Aside] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause. + +SALISBURY +Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main. + +WARWICK +Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost; +That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, +And would have kept so long as breath did last! +Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, +Which I will win from France, or else be slain, + +Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY + +YORK +Anjou and Maine are given to the French; +Paris is lost; the state of Normandy +Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: +Suffolk concluded on the articles, +The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased +To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. +I cannot blame them all: what is't to them? +'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. +Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage +And purchase friends and give to courtezans, +Still revelling like lords till all be gone; +While as the silly owner of the goods +Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands +And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof, +While all is shared and all is borne away, +Ready to starve and dare not touch his own: +So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue, +While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold. +Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland +Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood +As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd +Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. +Anjou and Maine both given unto the French! +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, +Even as I have of fertile England's soil. +A day will come when York shall claim his own; +And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts +And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, +And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, +For that's the golden mark I seek to hit: +Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, +Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist, +Nor wear the diadem upon his head, +Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown. +Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve: +Watch thou and wake when others be asleep, +To pry into the secrets of the state; +Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love, +With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, +And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars: +Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, +With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed; +And in my standard bear the arms of York +To grapple with the house of Lancaster; +And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown, +Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down. + +Exit + +SCENE II. GLOUCESTER'S house. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS +DUCHESS +Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn, +Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? +Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, +As frowning at the favours of the world? +Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth, +Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? +What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem, +Enchased with all the honours of the world? +If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, +Until thy head be circled with the same. +Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold. +What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine: +And, having both together heaved it up, +We'll both together lift our heads to heaven, +And never more abase our sight so low +As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. + +GLOUCESTER +O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, +Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts. +And may that thought, when I imagine ill +Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, +Be my last breathing in this mortal world! +My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. + +DUCHESS +What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it +With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. + +GLOUCESTER +Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, +Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot, +But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; +And on the pieces of the broken wand +Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, +And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. +This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows. + +DUCHESS +Tut, this was nothing but an argument +That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove +Shall lose his head for his presumption. +But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: +Methought I sat in seat of majesty +In the cathedral church of Westminster, +And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd; +Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me +And on my head did set the diadem. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: +Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, +Art thou not second woman in the realm, +And the protector's wife, beloved of him? +Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, +Above the reach or compass of thy thought? +And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, +To tumble down thy husband and thyself +From top of honour to disgrace's feet? +Away from me, and let me hear no more! + +DUCHESS +What, what, my lord! are you so choleric +With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? +Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself, +And not be cheque'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again. + +Enter Messenger + +Messenger +My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure +You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, +Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk. + +GLOUCESTER +I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? + +DUCHESS +Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger + +Follow I must; I cannot go before, +While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. +Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, +I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks +And smooth my way upon their headless necks; +And, being a woman, I will not be slack +To play my part in Fortune's pageant. +Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, +We are alone; here's none but thee and I. + +Enter HUME + +HUME +Jesus preserve your royal majesty! + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace. + +HUME +But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice, +Your grace's title shall be multiplied. + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd +With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, +With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? +And will they undertake to do me good? + +HUME +This they have promised, to show your highness +A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, +That shall make answer to such questions +As by your grace shall be propounded him. + +DUCHESS +It is enough; I'll think upon the questions: +When from St. Alban's we do make return, +We'll see these things effected to the full. +Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, +With thy confederates in this weighty cause. + +Exit + +HUME +Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold; +Marry, and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume! +Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum: +The business asketh silent secrecy. +Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: +Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. +Yet have I gold flies from another coast; +I dare not say, from the rich cardinal +And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, +Yet I do find it so; for to be plain, +They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, +Have hired me to undermine the duchess +And buz these conjurations in her brain. +They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker;' +Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. +Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near +To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. +Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last +Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck, +And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall: +Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the Armourer's man, being one +First Petitioner +My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector +will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver +our supplications in the quill. + +Second Petitioner +Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! +Jesu bless him! + +Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET + +PETER +Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. +I'll be the first, sure. + +Second Petitioner +Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and +not my lord protector. + +SUFFOLK +How now, fellow! would'st anything with me? + +First Petitioner +I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord +protector. + +QUEEN MARGARET +[Reading] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your +supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: +what is thine? + +First Petitioner +Mine is, an't please your grace, against John +Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my +house, and lands, and wife and all, from me. + +SUFFOLK +Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's +yours? What's here! + +Reads + +'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the +commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave! + +Second Petitioner +Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. + +PETER +[Giving his petition] Against my master, Thomas +Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful +heir to the crown. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What sayst thou? did the Duke of York say he was +rightful heir to the crown? + +PETER +That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said +that he was, and that the king was an usurper. + +SUFFOLK +Who is there? + +Enter Servant + +Take this fellow in, and send for +his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear +more of your matter before the King. + +Exit Servant with PETER + +QUEEN MARGARET +And as for you, that love to be protected +Under the wings of our protector's grace, +Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. + +Tears the supplication + +Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go. + +ALL +Come, let's be gone. + +Exeunt + +QUEEN MARGARET +My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, +Is this the fashion in the court of England? +Is this the government of Britain's isle, +And this the royalty of Albion's king? +What shall King Henry be a pupil still +Under the surly Gloucester's governance? +Am I a queen in title and in style, +And must be made a subject to a duke? +I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours +Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love +And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, +I thought King Henry had resembled thee +In courage, courtship and proportion: +But all his mind is bent to holiness, +To number Ave-Maries on his beads; +His champions are the prophets and apostles, +His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, +His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves +Are brazen images of canonized saints. +I would the college of the cardinals +Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome, +And set the triple crown upon his head: +That were a state fit for his holiness. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, be patient: as I was cause +Your highness came to England, so will I +In England work your grace's full content. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort, +The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, +And grumbling York: and not the least of these +But can do more in England than the king. + +SUFFOLK +And he of these that can do most of all +Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: +Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Not all these lords do vex me half so much +As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. +She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, +More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife: +Strangers in court do take her for the queen: +She bears a duke's revenues on her back, +And in her heart she scorns our poverty: +Shall I not live to be avenged on her? +Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, +She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, +The very train of her worst wearing gown +Was better worth than all my father's lands, +Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, +And placed a quire of such enticing birds, +That she will light to listen to the lays, +And never mount to trouble you again. +So, let her rest: and, madam, list to me; +For I am bold to counsel you in this. +Although we fancy not the cardinal, +Yet must we join with him and with the lords, +Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. +As for the Duke of York, this late complaint +Will make but little for his benefit. +So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, +And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and the DUCHESS + +KING HENRY VI +For my part, noble lords, I care not which; +Or Somerset or York, all's one to me. + +YORK +If York have ill demean'd himself in France, +Then let him be denay'd the regentship. + +SOMERSET +If Somerset be unworthy of the place, +Let York be regent; I will yield to him. + +WARWICK +Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no, +Dispute not that: York is the worthier. + +CARDINAL +Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. + +WARWICK +The cardinal's not my better in the field. + +BUCKINGHAM +All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. + +WARWICK +Warwick may live to be the best of all. + +SALISBURY +Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham, +Why Somerset should be preferred in this. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Because the king, forsooth, will have it so. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, the king is old enough himself +To give his censure: these are no women's matters. + +QUEEN MARGARET +If he be old enough, what needs your grace +To be protector of his excellence? + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, I am protector of the realm; +And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. + +SUFFOLK +Resign it then and leave thine insolence. +Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?-- +The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck; +The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas; +And all the peers and nobles of the realm +Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. + +CARDINAL +The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags +Are lank and lean with thy extortions. + +SOMERSET +Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire +Have cost a mass of public treasury. + +BUCKINGHAM +Thy cruelty in execution +Upon offenders, hath exceeded law, +And left thee to the mercy of the law. + +QUEEN MARGARET +They sale of offices and towns in France, +If they were known, as the suspect is great, +Would make thee quickly hop without thy head. + +Exit GLOUCESTER. QUEEN MARGARET drops her fan + +Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not? + +She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear + +I cry you mercy, madam; was it you? + +DUCHESS +Was't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman: +Could I come near your beauty with my nails, +I'd set my ten commandments in your face. + +KING HENRY VI +Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will. + +DUCHESS +Against her will! good king, look to't in time; +She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby: +Though in this place most master wear no breeches, +She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. + +Exit + +BUCKINGHAM +Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, +And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds: +She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs, +She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. + +Exit + +Re-enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Now, lords, my choler being over-blown +With walking once about the quadrangle, +I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. +As for your spiteful false objections, +Prove them, and I lie open to the law: +But God in mercy so deal with my soul, +As I in duty love my king and country! +But, to the matter that we have in hand: +I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man +To be your regent in the realm of France. + +SUFFOLK +Before we make election, give me leave +To show some reason, of no little force, +That York is most unmeet of any man. + +YORK +I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: +First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; +Next, if I be appointed for the place, +My Lord of Somerset will keep me here, +Without discharge, money, or furniture, +Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands: +Last time, I danced attendance on his will +Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost. + +WARWICK +That can I witness; and a fouler fact +Did never traitor in the land commit. + +SUFFOLK +Peace, headstrong Warwick! + +WARWICK +Image of pride, why should I hold my peace? + +Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man PETER, guarded + +SUFFOLK +Because here is a man accused of treason: +Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself! + +YORK +Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? + +KING HENRY VI +What mean'st thou, Suffolk; tell me, what are these? + +SUFFOLK +Please it your majesty, this is the man +That doth accuse his master of high treason: +His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York, +Was rightful heir unto the English crown +And that your majesty was a usurper. + +KING HENRY VI +Say, man, were these thy words? + +HORNER +An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor +thought any such matter: God is my witness, I am +falsely accused by the villain. + +PETER +By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to +me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my +Lord of York's armour. + +YORK +Base dunghill villain and mechanical, +I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech. +I do beseech your royal majesty, +Let him have all the rigor of the law. + +HORNER +Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words. +My accuser is my 'prentice; and when I did correct +him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his +knees he would be even with me: I have good +witness of this: therefore I beseech your majesty, +do not cast away an honest man for a villain's +accusation. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? + +GLOUCESTER +This doom, my lord, if I may judge: +Let Somerset be regent over the French, +Because in York this breeds suspicion: +And let these have a day appointed them +For single combat in convenient place, +For he hath witness of his servant's malice: +This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. + +SOMERSET +I humbly thank your royal majesty. + +HORNER +And I accept the combat willingly. + +PETER +Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity +my case. The spite of man prevaileth against me. O +Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to +fight a blow. O Lord, my heart! + +GLOUCESTER +Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd. + +KING HENRY VI +Away with them to prison; and the day of combat +shall be the last of the next month. Come, +Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. GLOUCESTER's garden. + +Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE +HUME +Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects +performance of your promises. + +BOLINGBROKE +Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her +ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? + +HUME +Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. + +BOLINGBROKE +I have heard her reported to be a woman of an +invincible spirit: but it shall be convenient, +Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be +busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in God's name, +and leave us. + +Exit HUME + +Mother Jourdain, be you +prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, +read you; and let us to our work. + +Enter the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following + +DUCHESS +Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this +gear the sooner the better. + +BOLINGBROKE +Patience, good lady; wizards know their times: +Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, +The time of night when Troy was set on fire; +The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl, +And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves, +That time best fits the work we have in hand. +Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise, +We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. + +Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, & c. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth + +Spirit +Adsum. + +MARGARET JOURDAIN +Asmath, +By the eternal God, whose name and power +Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; +For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence. + +Spirit +Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! + +BOLINGBROKE +'First of the king: what shall of him become?' + +Reading out of a paper + +Spirit +The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death. + +As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer + +BOLINGBROKE +'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?' + +Spirit +By water shall he die, and take his end. + +BOLINGBROKE +'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?' + +Spirit +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Have done, for more I hardly can endure. + +BOLINGBROKE +Descend to darkness and the burning lake! +False fiend, avoid! + +Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit + +Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guard and break in + +YORK +Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. +Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch. +What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal +Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains: +My lord protector will, I doubt it not, +See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts. + +DUCHESS +Not half so bad as thine to England's king, +Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, madam, none at all: what call you this? +Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close. +And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us. +Stafford, take her to thee. + +Exeunt above DUCHESS and HUME, guarded + +We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming. +All, away! + +Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, & c + +YORK +Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well: +A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon! +Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ. +What have we here? + +Reads + +'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death.' +Why, this is just +'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.' +Well, to the rest: +'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk? +By water shall he die, and take his end. +What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand.' +Come, come, my lords; +These oracles are hardly attain'd, +And hardly understood. +The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's, +With him the husband of this lovely lady: +Thither go these news, as fast as horse can +carry them: +A sorry breakfast for my lord protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, +To be the post, in hope of his reward. + +YORK +At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within +there, ho! + +Enter a Servingman + +Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick +To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Saint Alban's. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing +QUEEN MARGARET +Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook, +I saw not better sport these seven years' day: +Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high; +And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. + +KING HENRY VI +But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, +And what a pitch she flew above the rest! +To see how God in all his creatures works! +Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. + +SUFFOLK +No marvel, an it like your majesty, +My lord protector's hawks do tower so well; +They know their master loves to be aloft, +And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind +That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. + +CARDINAL +I thought as much; he would be above the clouds. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that? +Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven? + +KING HENRY VI +The treasury of everlasting joy. + +CARDINAL +Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts +Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart; +Pernicious protector, dangerous peer, +That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! + +GLOUCESTER +What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory? +Tantaene animis coelestibus irae? +Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; +With such holiness can you do it? + +SUFFOLK +No malice, sir; no more than well becomes +So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. + +GLOUCESTER +As who, my lord? + +SUFFOLK +Why, as you, my lord, +An't like your lordly lord-protectorship. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And thy ambition, Gloucester. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, peace, good queen, +And whet not on these furious peers; +For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. + +CARDINAL +Let me be blessed for the peace I make, +Against this proud protector, with my sword! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would +'twere come to that! + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou darest. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious +numbers for the matter; +In thine own person answer thy abuse. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou darest +not peep: an if thou darest, +This evening, on the east side of the grove. + +KING HENRY VI +How now, my lords! + +CARDINAL +Believe me, cousin Gloucester, +Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, +We had had more sport. + +Aside to GLOUCESTER + +Come with thy two-hand sword. + +GLOUCESTER +True, uncle. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advised? the +east side of the grove? + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, how now, uncle Gloucester! + +GLOUCESTER +Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. + +Aside to CARDINAL + +Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this, +Or all my fence shall fail. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum-- +Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. + +KING HENRY VI +The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords. +How irksome is this music to my heart! +When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? +I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. + +Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!' + +GLOUCESTER +What means this noise? +Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? + +Townsman +A miracle! a miracle! + +SUFFOLK +Come to the king and tell him what miracle. + +Townsman +Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, +Within this half-hour, hath received his sight; +A man that ne'er saw in his life before. + +KING HENRY VI +Now, God be praised, that to believing souls +Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair! + +Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following + +CARDINAL +Here comes the townsmen on procession, +To present your highness with the man. + +KING HENRY VI +Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, +Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king; +His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, +That we for thee may glorify the Lord. +What, hast thou been long blind and now restored? + +SIMPCOX +Born blind, an't please your grace. + +Wife +Ay, indeed, was he. + +SUFFOLK +What woman is this? + +Wife +His wife, an't like your worship. + +GLOUCESTER +Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have +better told. + +KING HENRY VI +Where wert thou born? + +SIMPCOX +At Berwick in the north, an't like your grace. + +KING HENRY VI +Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee: +Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, +But still remember what the Lord hath done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance, +Or of devotion, to this holy shrine? + +SIMPCOX +God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd +A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep, +By good Saint Alban; who said, 'Simpcox, come, +Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.' + +Wife +Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft +Myself have heard a voice to call him so. + +CARDINAL +What, art thou lame? + +SIMPCOX +Ay, God Almighty help me! + +SUFFOLK +How camest thou so? + +SIMPCOX +A fall off of a tree. + +Wife +A plum-tree, master. + +GLOUCESTER +How long hast thou been blind? + +SIMPCOX +Born so, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What, and wouldst climb a tree? + +SIMPCOX +But that in all my life, when I was a youth. + +Wife +Too true; and bought his climbing very dear. + +GLOUCESTER +Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst +venture so. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, +And made me climb, with danger of my life. + +GLOUCESTER +A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve. +Let me see thine eyes: wink now: now open them: +In my opinion yet thou seest not well. + +SIMPCOX +Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and +Saint Alban. + +GLOUCESTER +Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? + +SIMPCOX +Red, master; red as blood. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of? + +SIMPCOX +Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? + +SUFFOLK +And yet, I think, jet did he never see. + +GLOUCESTER +But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. + +Wife +Never, before this day, in all his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +What's his name? + +SIMPCOX +I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +Nor his? + +SIMPCOX +No, indeed, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What's thine own name? + +SIMPCOX +Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. + +GLOUCESTER +Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in +Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou +mightest as well have known all our names as thus to +name the several colours we do wear. Sight may +distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them +all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here +hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his +cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple +to his legs again? + +SIMPCOX +O master, that you could! + +GLOUCESTER +My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in +your town, and things called whips? + +Mayor +Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Then send for one presently. + +Mayor +Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. + +Exit an Attendant + +GLOUCESTER +Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, sirrah, +if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me +over this stool and run away. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone: +You go about to torture me in vain. + +Enter a Beadle with whips + +GLOUCESTER +Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah +beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. + +Beadle +I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your +doublet quickly. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand. + +After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!' + +KING HENRY VI +O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? + +QUEEN MARGARET +It made me laugh to see the villain run. + +GLOUCESTER +Follow the knave; and take this drab away. + +Wife +Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. + +GLOUCESTER +Let them be whipped through every market-town, till +they come to Berwick, from whence they came. + +Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, & c + +CARDINAL +Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day. + +SUFFOLK +True; made the lame to leap and fly away. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have done more miracles than I; +You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM + +KING HENRY VI +What tidings with our cousin Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. +A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, +Under the countenance and confederacy +Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, +The ringleader and head of all this rout, +Have practised dangerously against your state, +Dealing with witches and with conjurers: +Whom we have apprehended in the fact; +Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, +Demanding of King Henry's life and death, +And other of your highness' privy-council; +As more at large your grace shall understand. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] And so, my lord protector, +by this means +Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. +This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge; +'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. + +GLOUCESTER +Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart: +Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers; +And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee, +Or to the meanest groom. + +KING HENRY VI +O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, +Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest. +And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal, +How I have loved my king and commonweal: +And, for my wife, I know not how it stands; +Sorry I am to hear what I have heard: +Noble she is, but if she have forgot +Honour and virtue and conversed with such +As, like to pitch, defile nobility, +I banish her my bed and company +And give her as a prey to law and shame, +That hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. + +KING HENRY VI +Well, for this night we will repose us here: +To-morrow toward London back again, +To look into this business thoroughly +And call these foul offenders to their answers +And poise the cause in justice' equal scales, +Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. YORK'S garden. + +Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK +YORK +Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, +Our simple supper ended, give me leave +In this close walk to satisfy myself, +In craving your opinion of my title, +Which is infallible, to England's crown. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I long to hear it at full. + +WARWICK +Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good, +The Nevils are thy subjects to command. + +YORK +Then thus: +Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons: +The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; +The second, William of Hatfield, and the third, +Lionel Duke of Clarence: next to whom +Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; +The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; +The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; +William of Windsor was the seventh and last. +Edward the Black Prince died before his father +And left behind him Richard, his only son, +Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king; +Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, +The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, +Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth, +Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, +Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came, +And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know, +Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously. + +WARWICK +Father, the duke hath told the truth: +Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. + +YORK +Which now they hold by force and not by right; +For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, +The issue of the next son should have reign'd. + +SALISBURY +But William of Hatfield died without an heir. + +YORK +The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line +I claimed the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter, +Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March: +Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March; +Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor. + +SALISBURY +This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, +As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; +And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, +Who kept him in captivity till he died. +But to the rest. + +YORK +His eldest sister, Anne, +My mother, being heir unto the crown +Married Richard Earl of Cambridge; who was son +To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. +By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir +To Roger Earl of March, who was the son +Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, +Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence: +So, if the issue of the elder son +Succeed before the younger, I am king. + +WARWICK +What plain proceeding is more plain than this? +Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, +The fourth son; York claims it from the third. +Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign: +It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee +And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. +Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; +And in this private plot be we the first +That shall salute our rightful sovereign +With honour of his birthright to the crown. + +BOTH +Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king! + +YORK +We thank you, lords. But I am not your king +Till I be crown'd and that my sword be stain'd +With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; +And that's not suddenly to be perform'd, +But with advice and silent secrecy. +Do you as I do in these dangerous days: +Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, +At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, +At Buckingham and all the crew of them, +Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, +That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey: +'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that +Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. + +SALISBURY +My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full. + +WARWICK +My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick +Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. + +YORK +And, Nevil, this I do assure myself: +Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick +The greatest man in England but the king. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall of justice. + +Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS, MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard +KING HENRY VI +Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife: +In sight of God and us, your guilt is great: +Receive the sentence of the law for sins +Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. +You four, from hence to prison back again; +From thence unto the place of execution: +The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes, +And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. +You, madam, for you are more nobly born, +Despoiled of your honour in your life, +Shall, after three days' open penance done, +Live in your country here in banishment, +With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man. + +DUCHESS +Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death. + +GLOUCESTER +Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath judged thee: +I cannot justify whom the law condemns. + +Exeunt DUCHESS and other prisoners, guarded + +Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. +Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age +Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground! +I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; +Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go, +Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself +Protector be; and God shall be my hope, +My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet: +And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved +Than when thou wert protector to thy King. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I see no reason why a king of years +Should be to be protected like a child. +God and King Henry govern England's realm. +Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm. + +GLOUCESTER +My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: +As willingly do I the same resign +As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; +And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it +As others would ambitiously receive it. +Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, +May honourable peace attend thy throne! + +Exit + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen; +And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, +That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once; +His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off. +This staff of honour raught, there let it stand +Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. + +SUFFOLK +Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; +Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. + +YORK +Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, +This is the day appointed for the combat; +And ready are the appellant and defendant, +The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, +So please your highness to behold the fight. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore +Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried. + +KING HENRY VI +O God's name, see the lists and all things fit: +Here let them end it; and God defend the right! + +YORK +I never saw a fellow worse bested, +Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, +The servant of this armourer, my lords. + +Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters with a drum before him and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sand-bag, and 'Prentices drinking to him + +First Neighbour +Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of +sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. + +Second Neighbour +And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco. + +Third Neighbour +And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour: +drink, and fear not your man. + +HORNER +Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and +a fig for Peter! +First 'Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid. +Second 'Prentice Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight +for credit of the 'prentices. + +PETER +I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray +you; for I think I have taken my last draught in +this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee +my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: +and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O +Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to +deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already. + +SALISBURY +Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. +Sirrah, what's thy name? + +PETER +Peter, forsooth. + +SALISBURY +Peter! what more? + +PETER +Thump. + +SALISBURY +Thump! then see thou thump thy master well. + +HORNER +Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's +instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an +honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will +take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the +king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at +thee with a downright blow! + +YORK +Dispatch: this knave's tongue begins to double. +Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants! + +Alarum. They fight, and PETER strikes him down + +HORNER +Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. + +Dies + +YORK +Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the +good wine in thy master's way. + +PETER +O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence? +O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! + +KING HENRY VI +Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; +For his death we do perceive his guilt: +And God in justice hath revealed to us +The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, +Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully. +Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. + +Sound a flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks +GLOUCESTER +Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; +And after summer evermore succeeds +Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: +So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. +Sirs, what's o'clock? + +Servants +Ten, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Ten is the hour that was appointed me +To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: +Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, +To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. +Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook +The abject people gazing on thy face, +With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, +That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels +When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. +But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare +My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. + +Enter the DUCHESS in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers + +Servant +So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff. + +GLOUCESTER +No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. + +DUCHESS +Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? +Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! +See how the giddy multitude do point, +And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! +Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, +And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, +And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! + +GLOUCESTER +Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. + +DUCHESS +Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! +For whilst I think I am thy married wife +And thou a prince, protector of this land, +Methinks I should not thus be led along, +Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, +And followed with a rabble that rejoice +To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. +The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, +And when I start, the envious people laugh +And bid me be advised how I tread. +Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? +Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, +Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? +No; dark shall be my light and night my day; +To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. +Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, +And he a prince and ruler of the land: +Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was +As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, +Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock +To every idle rascal follower. +But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, +Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death +Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; +For Suffolk, he that can do all in all +With her that hateth thee and hates us all, +And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, +Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings, +And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee: +But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, +Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry; +I must offend before I be attainted; +And had I twenty times so many foes, +And each of them had twenty times their power, +All these could not procure me any scathe, +So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless. +Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? +Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away +But I in danger for the breach of law. +Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell: +I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; +These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. + +Enter a Herald + +Herald +I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, +Holden at Bury the first of this next month. + +GLOUCESTER +And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! +This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. + +Exit Herald + +My Nell, I take my leave: and, master sheriff, +Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. + +Sheriff +An't please your grace, here my commission stays, +And Sir John Stanley is appointed now +To take her with him to the Isle of Man. + +GLOUCESTER +Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? + +STANLEY +So am I given in charge, may't please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Entreat her not the worse in that I pray +You use her well: the world may laugh again; +And I may live to do you kindness if +You do it her: and so, Sir John, farewell! + +DUCHESS +What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell! + +GLOUCESTER +Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Servingmen + +DUCHESS +Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! +For none abides with me: my joy is death; +Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd, +Because I wish'd this world's eternity. +Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence; +I care not whither, for I beg no favour, +Only convey me where thou art commanded. + +STANLEY +Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; +There to be used according to your state. + +DUCHESS +That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: +And shall I then be used reproachfully? + +STANLEY +Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady; +According to that state you shall be used. + +DUCHESS +Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, +Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. + +Sheriff +It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. + +DUCHESS +Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged. +Come, Stanley, shall we go? + +STANLEY +Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, +And go we to attire you for our journey. + +DUCHESS +My shame will not be shifted with my sheet: +No, it will hang upon my richest robes +And show itself, attire me how I can. +Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament +KING HENRY VI +I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come: +'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, +Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Can you not see? or will ye not observe +The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? +With what a majesty he bears himself, +How insolent of late he is become, +How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? +We know the time since he was mild and affable, +And if we did but glance a far-off look, +Immediately he was upon his knee, +That all the court admired him for submission: +But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, +When every one will give the time of day, +He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, +And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, +Disdaining duty that to us belongs. +Small curs are not regarded when they grin; +But great men tremble when the lion roars; +And Humphrey is no little man in England. +First note that he is near you in descent, +And should you fall, he as the next will mount. +Me seemeth then it is no policy, +Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears +And his advantage following your decease, +That he should come about your royal person +Or be admitted to your highness' council. +By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, +And when he please to make commotion, +'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. +Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; +Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden +And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. +The reverent care I bear unto my lord +Made me collect these dangers in the duke. +If it be fond, call it a woman's fear; +Which fear if better reasons can supplant, +I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. +My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, +Reprove my allegation, if you can; +Or else conclude my words effectual. + +SUFFOLK +Well hath your highness seen into this duke; +And, had I first been put to speak my mind, +I think I should have told your grace's tale. +The duchess, by his subornation, +Upon my life, began her devilish practises: +Or, if he were not privy to those faults, +Yet, by reputing of his high descent, +As next the king he was successive heir, +And such high vaunts of his nobility, +Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess +By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. +Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep; +And in his simple show he harbours treason. +The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. +No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man +Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. + +CARDINAL +Did he not, contrary to form of law, +Devise strange deaths for small offences done? + +YORK +And did he not, in his protectorship, +Levy great sums of money through the realm +For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? +By means whereof the towns each day revolted. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown. +Which time will bring to light in smooth +Duke Humphrey. + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, at once: the care you have of us, +To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, +Is worthy praise: but, shall I speak my conscience, +Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent +From meaning treason to our royal person +As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove: +The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given +To dream on evil or to work my downfall. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! +Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, +For he's disposed as the hateful raven: +Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him, +For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. +Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? +Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all +Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. + +Enter SOMERSET + +SOMERSET +All health unto my gracious sovereign! + +KING HENRY VI +Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? + +SOMERSET +That all your interest in those territories +Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. + +KING HENRY VI +Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done! + +YORK +[Aside] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France +As firmly as I hope for fertile England. +Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud +And caterpillars eat my leaves away; +But I will remedy this gear ere long, +Or sell my title for a glorious grave. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +All happiness unto my lord the king! +Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long. + +SUFFOLK +Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, +Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art: +I do arrest thee of high treason here. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush +Nor change my countenance for this arrest: +A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. +The purest spring is not so free from mud +As I am clear from treason to my sovereign: +Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty? + +YORK +'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, +And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay; +By means whereof his highness hath lost France. + +GLOUCESTER +Is it but thought so? what are they that think it? +I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, +Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. +So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, +Ay, night by night, in studying good for England, +That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, +Or any groat I hoarded to my use, +Be brought against me at my trial-day! +No; many a pound of mine own proper store, +Because I would not tax the needy commons, +Have I disbursed to the garrisons, +And never ask'd for restitution. + +CARDINAL +It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. + +GLOUCESTER +I say no more than truth, so help me God! + +YORK +In your protectorship you did devise +Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, +That England was defamed by tyranny. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was +protector, +Pity was all the fault that was in me; +For I should melt at an offender's tears, +And lowly words were ransom for their fault. +Unless it were a bloody murderer, +Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, +I never gave them condign punishment: +Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured +Above the felon or what trespass else. + +SUFFOLK +My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered: +But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, +Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. +I do arrest you in his highness' name; +And here commit you to my lord cardinal +To keep, until your further time of trial. + +KING HENRY VI +My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope +That you will clear yourself from all suspect: +My conscience tells me you are innocent. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous: +Virtue is choked with foul ambition +And charity chased hence by rancour's hand; +Foul subornation is predominant +And equity exiled your highness' land. +I know their complot is to have my life, +And if my death might make this island happy, +And prove the period of their tyranny, +I would expend it with all willingness: +But mine is made the prologue to their play; +For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, +Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. +Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, +And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; +Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue +The envious load that lies upon his heart; +And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, +Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, +By false accuse doth level at my life: +And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, +Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, +And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up +My liefest liege to be mine enemy: +Ay, all you have laid your heads together-- +Myself had notice of your conventicles-- +And all to make away my guiltless life. +I shall not want false witness to condemn me, +Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; +The ancient proverb will be well effected: +'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' + +CARDINAL +My liege, his railing is intolerable: +If those that care to keep your royal person +From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage +Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at, +And the offender granted scope of speech, +'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. + +SUFFOLK +Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here +With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, +As if she had suborned some to swear +False allegations to o'erthrow his state? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But I can give the loser leave to chide. + +GLOUCESTER +Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; +Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! +And well such losers may have leave to speak. + +BUCKINGHAM +He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day: +Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. + +CARDINAL +Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch +Before his legs be firm to bear his body. +Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, +And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. +Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! +For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. + +Exit, guarded + +The Third part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 3 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house. + +Alarum. Enter YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers +WARWICK +I wonder how the king escaped our hands. + +YORK +While we pursued the horsemen of the north, +He slily stole away and left his men: +Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, +Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, +Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, +Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, +Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in +Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. + +EDWARD +Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, +Is either slain or wounded dangerously; +I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: +That this is true, father, behold his blood. + +MONTAGUE +And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, +Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. + +RICHARD +Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. + +Throwing down SOMERSET's head + +YORK +Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. +But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? + +NORFOLK +Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! + +RICHARD +Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. + +WARWICK +And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, +Before I see thee seated in that throne +Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, +I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. +This is the palace of the fearful king, +And this the regal seat: possess it, York; +For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs' + +YORK +Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; +For hither we have broken in by force. + +NORFOLK +We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. + +YORK +Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; +And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. + +They go up + +WARWICK +And when the king comes, offer no violence, +Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. + +YORK +The queen this day here holds her parliament, +But little thinks we shall be of her council: +By words or blows here let us win our right. + +RICHARD +Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. + +WARWICK +The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, +Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, +And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice +Hath made us by-words to our enemies. + +YORK +Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; +I mean to take possession of my right. + +WARWICK +Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, +The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, +Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. +I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: +Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, +Even in the chair of state: belike he means, +Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, +To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. +Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father. +And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge +On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! + +CLIFFORD +The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. + +WESTMORELAND +What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: +My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. + +CLIFFORD +Patience is for poltroons, such as he: +He durst not sit there, had your father lived. +My gracious lord, here in the parliament +Let us assail the family of York. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, know you not the city favours them, +And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? + +EXETER +But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. + +KING HENRY VI +Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, +To make a shambles of the parliament-house! +Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats +Shall be the war that Henry means to use. +Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, +and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; +I am thy sovereign. + +YORK +I am thine. + +EXETER +For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York. + +YORK +'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. + +EXETER +Thy father was a traitor to the crown. + +WARWICK +Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown +In following this usurping Henry. + +CLIFFORD +Whom should he follow but his natural king? + +WARWICK +True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. + +KING HENRY VI +And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? + +YORK +It must and shall be so: content thyself. + +WARWICK +Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. + +WESTMORELAND +He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; +And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. + +WARWICK +And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget +That we are those which chased you from the field +And slew your fathers, and with colours spread +March'd through the city to the palace gates. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; +And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. + +WESTMORELAND +Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, +Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives +Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. + +CLIFFORD +Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, +I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger +As shall revenge his death before I stir. + +WARWICK +Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats! + +YORK +Will you we show our title to the crown? +If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. + +KING HENRY VI +What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? +Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; +Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: +I am the son of Henry the Fifth, +Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop +And seized upon their towns and provinces. + +WARWICK +Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. + +KING HENRY VI +The lord protector lost it, and not I: +When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. + +RICHARD +You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. +Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. + +EDWARD +Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. + +MONTAGUE +Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, +Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. + +RICHARD +Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly. + +YORK +Sons, peace! + +KING HENRY VI +Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. + +WARWICK +Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; +And be you silent and attentive too, +For he that interrupts him shall not live. + +KING HENRY VI +Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, +Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? +No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; +Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, +And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, +Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? +My title's good, and better far than his. + +WARWICK +Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. + +KING HENRY VI +Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. + +YORK +'Twas by rebellion against his king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-- +Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? + +YORK +What then? + +KING HENRY VI +An if he may, then am I lawful king; +For Richard, in the view of many lords, +Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, +Whose heir my father was, and I am his. + +YORK +He rose against him, being his sovereign, +And made him to resign his crown perforce. + +WARWICK +Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd, +Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? + +EXETER +No; for he could not so resign his crown +But that the next heir should succeed and reign. + +KING HENRY VI +Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? + +EXETER +His is the right, and therefore pardon me. + +YORK +Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? + +EXETER +My conscience tells me he is lawful king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, +Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. + +WARWICK +Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power, +Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, +Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, +Can set the duke up in despite of me. + +CLIFFORD +King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, +Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: +May that ground gape and swallow me alive, +Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father! + +KING HENRY VI +O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! + +YORK +Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. +What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? + +WARWICK +Do right unto this princely Duke of York, +Or I will fill the house with armed men, +And over the chair of state, where now he sits, +Write up his title with usurping blood. + +He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves + +KING HENRY VI +My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: +Let me for this my life-time reign as king. + +YORK +Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, +And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. + +KING HENRY VI +I am content: Richard Plantagenet, +Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. + +CLIFFORD +What wrong is this unto the prince your son! + +WARWICK +What good is this to England and himself! + +WESTMORELAND +Base, fearful and despairing Henry! + +CLIFFORD +How hast thou injured both thyself and us! + +WESTMORELAND +I cannot stay to hear these articles. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nor I. + +CLIFFORD +Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news. + +WESTMORELAND +Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, +In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be thou a prey unto the house of York, +And die in bands for this unmanly deed! + +CLIFFORD +In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, +Or live in peace abandon'd and despised! + +Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND + +WARWICK +Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. + +EXETER +They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, Exeter! + +WARWICK +Why should you sigh, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, +Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. +But be it as it may: I here entail +The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; +Conditionally, that here thou take an oath +To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, +To honour me as thy king and sovereign, +And neither by treason nor hostility +To seek to put me down and reign thyself. + +YORK +This oath I willingly take and will perform. + +WARWICK +Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him. + +KING HENRY VI +And long live thou and these thy forward sons! + +YORK +Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. + +EXETER +Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes! + +Sennet. Here they come down + +YORK +Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. + +WARWICK +And I'll keep London with my soldiers. + +NORFOLK +And I to Norfolk with my followers. + +MONTAGUE +And I unto the sea from whence I came. + +Exeunt YORK, EDWARD, EDMUND, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, their Soldiers, and Attendants + +KING HENRY VI +And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +EXETER +Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: +I'll steal away. + +KING HENRY VI +Exeter, so will I. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Who can be patient in such extremes? +Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid +And never seen thee, never borne thee son, +Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father +Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? +Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, +Or felt that pain which I did for him once, +Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood, +Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, +Rather than have that savage duke thine heir +And disinherited thine only son. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Father, you cannot disinherit me: +If you be king, why should not I succeed? + +KING HENRY VI +Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: +The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? +I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! +Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; +And given unto the house of York such head +As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. +To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, +What is it, but to make thy sepulchre +And creep into it far before thy time? +Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; +Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; +The duke is made protector of the realm; +And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds +The trembling lamb environed with wolves. +Had I been there, which am a silly woman, +The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes +Before I would have granted to that act. +But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: +And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself +Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, +Until that act of parliament be repeal'd +Whereby my son is disinherited. +The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours +Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; +And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace +And utter ruin of the house of York. +Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away; +Our army is ready; come, we'll after them. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone. + +KING HENRY VI +Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies. + +PRINCE EDWARD +When I return with victory from the field +I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Come, son, away; we may not linger thus. + +Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +KING HENRY VI +Poor queen! how love to me and to her son +Hath made her break out into terms of rage! +Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, +Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, +Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle +Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! +The loss of those three lords torments my heart: +I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. +Come, cousin you shall be the messenger. + +EXETER +And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Sandal Castle. + +Enter RICHARD, EDWARD, and MONTAGUE +RICHARD +Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. + +EDWARD +No, I can better play the orator. + +MONTAGUE +But I have reasons strong and forcible. + +Enter YORK + +YORK +Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife? +What is your quarrel? how began it first? + +EDWARD +No quarrel, but a slight contention. + +YORK +About what? + +RICHARD +About that which concerns your grace and us; +The crown of England, father, which is yours. + +YORK +Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead. + +RICHARD +Your right depends not on his life or death. + +EDWARD +Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: +By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, +It will outrun you, father, in the end. + +YORK +I took an oath that he should quietly reign. + +EDWARD +But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: +I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. + +RICHARD +No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. + +YORK +I shall be, if I claim by open war. + +RICHARD +I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. + +YORK +Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. + +RICHARD +An oath is of no moment, being not took +Before a true and lawful magistrate, +That hath authority over him that swears: +Henry had none, but did usurp the place; +Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, +Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. +Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think +How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; +Within whose circuit is Elysium +And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. +Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest +Until the white rose that I wear be dyed +Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. + +YORK +Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. +Brother, thou shalt to London presently, +And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. +Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, +And tell him privily of our intent. +You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, +With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: +In them I trust; for they are soldiers, +Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. +While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, +But that I seek occasion how to rise, +And yet the king not privy to my drift, +Nor any of the house of Lancaster? + +Enter a Messenger + +But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post? + +Messenger +The queen with all the northern earls and lords +Intend here to besiege you in your castle: +She is hard by with twenty thousand men; +And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. + +YORK +Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them? +Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; +My brother Montague shall post to London: +Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, +Whom we have left protectors of the king, +With powerful policy strengthen themselves, +And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. + +MONTAGUE +Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: +And thus most humbly I do take my leave. + +Exit + +Enter JOHN MORTIMER and HUGH MORTIMER + +Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, +You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; +The army of the queen mean to besiege us. + +JOHN MORTIMER +She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. + +YORK +What, with five thousand men? + +RICHARD +Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need: +A woman's general; what should we fear? + +A march afar off + +EDWARD +I hear their drums: let's set our men in order, +And issue forth and bid them battle straight. + +YORK +Five men to twenty! though the odds be great, +I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. +Many a battle have I won in France, +When as the enemy hath been ten to one: +Why should I not now have the like success? + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield. + +Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor +RUTLAND +Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? +Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! + +Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. +As for the brat of this accursed duke, +Whose father slew my father, he shall die. + +Tutor +And I, my lord, will bear him company. + +CLIFFORD +Soldiers, away with him! + +Tutor +Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, +Lest thou be hated both of God and man! + +Exit, dragged off by Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +How now! is he dead already? or is it fear +That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. + +RUTLAND +So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch +That trembles under his devouring paws; +And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, +And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. +Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, +And not with such a cruel threatening look. +Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. +I am too mean a subject for thy wrath: +Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. + +CLIFFORD +In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood +Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. + +RUTLAND +Then let my father's blood open it again: +He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. + +CLIFFORD +Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine +Were not revenge sufficient for me; +No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves +And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, +It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. +The sight of any of the house of York +Is as a fury to torment my soul; +And till I root out their accursed line +And leave not one alive, I live in hell. +Therefore-- + +Lifting his hand + +RUTLAND +O, let me pray before I take my death! +To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! + +CLIFFORD +Such pity as my rapier's point affords. + +RUTLAND +I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me? + +CLIFFORD +Thy father hath. + +RUTLAND +But 'twas ere I was born. +Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, +Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, +He be as miserably slain as I. +Ah, let me live in prison all my days; +And when I give occasion of offence, +Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. + +CLIFFORD +No cause! +Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. + +Stabs him + +RUTLAND +Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! + +Dies + +CLIFFORD +Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! +And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade +Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, +Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter YORK +YORK +The army of the queen hath got the field: +My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; +And all my followers to the eager foe +Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind +Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. +My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: +But this I know, they have demean'd themselves +Like men born to renown by life or death. +Three times did Richard make a lane to me. +And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!' +And full as oft came Edward to my side, +With purple falchion, painted to the hilt +In blood of those that had encounter'd him: +And when the hardiest warriors did retire, +Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!' +And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb! +A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!' +With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! +We bodged again; as I have seen a swan +With bootless labour swim against the tide +And spend her strength with over-matching waves. + +A short alarum within + +Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; +And I am faint and cannot fly their fury: +And were I strong, I would not shun their fury: +The sands are number'd that make up my life; +Here must I stay, and here my life must end. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers + +Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, +I dare your quenchless fury to more rage: +I am your butt, and I abide your shot. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. + +CLIFFORD +Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, +With downright payment, show'd unto my father. +Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car, +And made an evening at the noontide prick. + +YORK +My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth +A bird that will revenge upon you all: +And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, +Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. +Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? + +CLIFFORD +So cowards fight when they can fly no further; +So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; +So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, +Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. + +YORK +O Clifford, but bethink thee once again, +And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; +And, if though canst for blushing, view this face, +And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice +Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this! + +CLIFFORD +I will not bandy with thee word for word, +But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes +I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. +Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much +To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: +What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, +For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, +When he might spurn him with his foot away? +It is war's prize to take all vantages; +And ten to one is no impeach of valour. + +They lay hands on YORK, who struggles + +CLIFFORD +Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +So doth the cony struggle in the net. + +YORK +So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; +So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What would your grace have done unto him now? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, +Come, make him stand upon this molehill here, +That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, +Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. +What! was it you that would be England's king? +Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, +And made a preachment of your high descent? +Where are your mess of sons to back you now? +The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? +And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, +Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice +Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? +Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? +Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood +That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, +Made issue from the bosom of the boy; +And if thine eyes can water for his death, +I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. +Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, +I should lament thy miserable state. +I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York. +What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails +That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? +Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad; +And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. +Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. +Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport: +York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown. +A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him: +Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. + +Putting a paper crown on his head + +Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! +Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair, +And this is he was his adopted heir. +But how is it that great Plantagenet +Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? +As I bethink me, you should not be king +Till our King Henry had shook hands with death. +And will you pale your head in Henry's glory, +And rob his temples of the diadem, +Now in his life, against your holy oath? +O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable! +Off with the crown, and with the crown his head; +And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. + +CLIFFORD +That is my office, for my father's sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, stay; lets hear the orisons he makes. + +YORK +She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, +Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! +How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex +To triumph, like an Amazonian trull, +Upon their woes whom fortune captivates! +But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging, +Made impudent with use of evil deeds, +I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. +To tell thee whence thou camest, of whom derived, +Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. +Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, +Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem, +Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. +Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? +It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, +Unless the adage must be verified, +That beggars mounted run their horse to death. +'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; +But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: +'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; +The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: +'Tis government that makes them seem divine; +The want thereof makes thee abominable: +Thou art as opposite to every good +As the Antipodes are unto us, +Or as the south to the septentrion. +O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide! +How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child, +To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, +And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? +Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; +Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. +Bids't thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: +Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: +For raging wind blows up incessant showers, +And when the rage allays, the rain begins. +These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies: +And every drop cries vengeance for his death, +'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false +Frenchwoman. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so +That hardly can I cheque my eyes from tears. + +YORK +That face of his the hungry cannibals +Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: +But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, +O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania. +See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: +This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy, +And I with tears do wash the blood away. +Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: +And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, +Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears; +Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, +And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!' +There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; +And in thy need such comfort come to thee +As now I reap at thy too cruel hand! +Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: +My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin, +I should not for my life but weep with him. +To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland? +Think but upon the wrong he did us all, +And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. + +CLIFFORD +Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. + +Stabbing him + +QUEEN MARGARET +And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. + +Stabbing him + +YORK +Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God! +My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. + +Dies + +QUEEN MARGARET +Off with his head, and set it on York gates; +So York may overlook the town of York. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire. + +A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power +EDWARD +I wonder how our princely father 'scaped, +Or whether he be 'scaped away or no +From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit: +Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; +Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; +Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard +The happy tidings of his good escape. +How fares my brother? why is he so sad? + +RICHARD +I cannot joy, until I be resolved +Where our right valiant father is become. +I saw him in the battle range about; +And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth. +Methought he bore him in the thickest troop +As doth a lion in a herd of neat; +Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, +Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry, +The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. +So fared our father with his enemies; +So fled his enemies my warlike father: +Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. +See how the morning opes her golden gates, +And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! +How well resembles it the prime of youth, +Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! + +EDWARD +Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? + +RICHARD +Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; +Not separated with the racking clouds, +But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky. +See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, +As if they vow'd some league inviolable: +Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. +In this the heaven figures some event. + +EDWARD +'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. +I think it cites us, brother, to the field, +That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, +Each one already blazing by our meeds, +Should notwithstanding join our lights together +And over-shine the earth as this the world. +Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear +Upon my target three fair-shining suns. + +RICHARD +Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it, +You love the breeder better than the male. + +Enter a Messenger + +But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell +Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? + +Messenger +Ah, one that was a woful looker-on +When as the noble Duke of York was slain, +Your princely father and my loving lord! + +EDWARD +O, speak no more, for I have heard too much. + +RICHARD +Say how he died, for I will hear it all. + +Messenger +Environed he was with many foes, +And stood against them, as the hope of Troy +Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy. +But Hercules himself must yield to odds; +And many strokes, though with a little axe, +Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. +By many hands your father was subdued; +But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm +Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen, +Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite, +Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept, +The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks +A napkin steeped in the harmless blood +Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: +And after many scorns, many foul taunts, +They took his head, and on the gates of York +They set the same; and there it doth remain, +The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. + +EDWARD +Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, +Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. +O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain +The flower of Europe for his chivalry; +And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, +For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. +Now my soul's palace is become a prison: +Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body +Might in the ground be closed up in rest! +For never henceforth shall I joy again, +Never, O never shall I see more joy! + +RICHARD +I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture +Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: +Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; +For selfsame wind that I should speak withal +Is kindling coals that fires all my breast, +And burns me up with flames that tears would quench. +To weep is to make less the depth of grief: +Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me +Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death, +Or die renowned by attempting it. + +EDWARD +His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; +His dukedom and his chair with me is left. + +RICHARD +Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, +Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun: +For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say; +Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. + +March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army + +WARWICK +How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad? + +RICHARD +Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount +Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance +Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, +The words would add more anguish than the wounds. +O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain! + +EDWARD +O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet, +Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption, +Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. + +WARWICK +Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; +And now, to add more measure to your woes, +I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. +After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, +Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, +Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, +Were brought me of your loss and his depart. +I, then in London keeper of the king, +Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, +And very well appointed, as I thought, +March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, +Bearing the king in my behalf along; +For by my scouts I was advertised +That she was coming with a full intent +To dash our late decree in parliament +Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. +Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met +Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: +But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, +Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, +That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; +Or whether 'twas report of her success; +Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, +Who thunders to his captives blood and death, +I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, +Their weapons like to lightning came and went; +Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, +Or like an idle thresher with a flail, +Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. +I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, +With promise of high pay and great rewards: +But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, +And we in them no hope to win the day; +So that we fled; the king unto the queen; +Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, +In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: +For in the marches here we heard you were, +Making another head to fight again. + +EDWARD +Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? +And when came George from Burgundy to England? + +WARWICK +Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers; +And for your brother, he was lately sent +From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy, +With aid of soldiers to this needful war. + +RICHARD +'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled: +Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, +But ne'er till now his scandal of retire. + +WARWICK +Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear; +For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine +Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, +And wring the awful sceptre from his fist, +Were he as famous and as bold in war +As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. + +RICHARD +I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not: +'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak. +But in this troublous time what's to be done? +Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, +And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, +Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads? +Or shall we on the helmets of our foes +Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? +If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords. + +WARWICK +Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; +And therefore comes my brother Montague. +Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, +With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, +And of their feather many more proud birds, +Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. +He swore consent to your succession, +His oath enrolled in the parliament; +And now to London all the crew are gone, +To frustrate both his oath and what beside +May make against the house of Lancaster. +Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: +Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, +With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, +Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, +Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, +Why, Via! to London will we march amain, +And once again bestride our foaming steeds, +And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!' +But never once again turn back and fly. + +RICHARD +Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak: +Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, +That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay. + +EDWARD +Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; +And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!-- +Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! + +WARWICK +No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York: +The next degree is England's royal throne; +For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd +In every borough as we pass along; +And he that throws not up his cap for joy +Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. +King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, +Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown, +But sound the trumpets, and about our task. + +RICHARD +Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, +As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, +I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. + +EDWARD +Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us! + +Enter a Messenger + +WARWICK +How now! what news? + +Messenger +The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, +The queen is coming with a puissant host; +And craves your company for speedy counsel. + +WARWICK +Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before York. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets +QUEEN MARGARET +Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. +Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy +That sought to be encompass'd with your crown: +Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck: +To see this sight, it irks my very soul. +Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault, +Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow. + +CLIFFORD +My gracious liege, this too much lenity +And harmful pity must be laid aside. +To whom do lions cast their gentle looks? +Not to the beast that would usurp their den. +Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? +Not his that spoils her young before her face. +Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? +Not he that sets his foot upon her back. +The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, +And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. +Ambitious York doth level at thy crown, +Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows: +He, but a duke, would have his son a king, +And raise his issue, like a loving sire; +Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son, +Didst yield consent to disinherit him, +Which argued thee a most unloving father. +Unreasonable creatures feed their young; +And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, +Yet, in protection of their tender ones, +Who hath not seen them, even with those wings +Which sometime they have used with fearful flight, +Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, +Offer their own lives in their young's defence? +For shame, my liege, make them your precedent! +Were it not pity that this goodly boy +Should lose his birthright by his father's fault, +And long hereafter say unto his child, +'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got +My careless father fondly gave away'? +Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; +And let his manly face, which promiseth +Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart +To hold thine own and leave thine own with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, +Inferring arguments of mighty force. +But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear +That things ill-got had ever bad success? +And happy always was it for that son +Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? +I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; +And would my father had left me no more! +For all the rest is held at such a rate +As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep +Than in possession and jot of pleasure. +Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know +How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, +And this soft courage makes your followers faint. +You promised knighthood to our forward son: +Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. +Edward, kneel down. + +KING HENRY VI +Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; +And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right. + +PRINCE +My gracious father, by your kingly leave, +I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, +And in that quarrel use it to the death. + +CLIFFORD +Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Royal commanders, be in readiness: +For with a band of thirty thousand men +Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York; +And in the towns, as they do march along, +Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: +Darraign your battle, for they are at hand. + +CLIFFORD +I would your highness would depart the field: +The queen hath best success when you are absent. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be it with resolution then to fight. + +PRINCE EDWARD +My royal father, cheer these noble lords +And hearten those that fight in your defence: +Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!' + +March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace, +And set thy diadem upon my head; +Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy! +Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms +Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? + +EDWARD +I am his king, and he should bow his knee; +I was adopted heir by his consent: +Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, +You, that are king, though he do wear the crown, +Have caused him, by new act of parliament, +To blot out me, and put his own son in. + +CLIFFORD +And reason too: +Who should succeed the father but the son? + +RICHARD +Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak! + +CLIFFORD +Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee, +Or any he the proudest of thy sort. + +RICHARD +'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? + +CLIFFORD +Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. + +WARWICK +What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak? +When you and I met at Saint Alban's last, +Your legs did better service than your hands. + +WARWICK +Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. + +CLIFFORD +You said so much before, and yet you fled. + +WARWICK +'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay. + +RICHARD +Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. +Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain +The execution of my big-swoln heart +Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. + +CLIFFORD +I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child? + +RICHARD +Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, +As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; +But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. + +KING HENRY VI +Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, give no limits to my tongue: +I am a king, and privileged to speak. + +CLIFFORD +My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here +Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still. + +RICHARD +Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword: +By him that made us all, I am resolved +that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. + +EDWARD +Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? +A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, +That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. + +WARWICK +If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; +For York in justice puts his armour on. + +PRINCE EDWARD +If that be right which Warwick says is right, +There is no wrong, but every thing is right. + +RICHARD +Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; +For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam; +But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic, +Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided, +As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings. + +RICHARD +Iron of Naples hid with English gilt, +Whose father bears the title of a king,-- +As if a channel should be call'd the sea,-- +Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught, +To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? + +EDWARD +A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns, +To make this shameless callet know herself. +Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, +Although thy husband may be Menelaus; +And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd +By that false woman, as this king by thee. +His father revell'd in the heart of France, +And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop; +And had he match'd according to his state, +He might have kept that glory to this day; +But when he took a beggar to his bed, +And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day, +Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him, +That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, +And heap'd sedition on his crown at home. +For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride? +Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; +And we, in pity of the gentle king, +Had slipp'd our claim until another age. + +GEORGE +But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, +And that thy summer bred us no increase, +We set the axe to thy usurping root; +And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, +Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike, +We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down, +Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. + +EDWARD +And, in this resolution, I defy thee; +Not willing any longer conference, +Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak. +Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave! +And either victory, or else a grave. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Stay, Edward. + +EDWARD +No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay: +These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in +Yorkshire. + +Alarum. Excursions. Enter WARWICK + +WARWICK +Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, +I lay me down a little while to breathe; +For strokes received, and many blows repaid, +Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength, +And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. + +Enter EDWARD, running + +EDWARD +Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death! +For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. + +WARWICK +How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good? + +Enter GEORGE + +GEORGE +Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; +Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us: +What counsel give you? whither shall we fly? + +EDWARD +Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings; +And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. + +Enter RICHARD + +RICHARD +Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? +Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, +Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance; +And in the very pangs of death he cried, +Like to a dismal clangour heard from far, +'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!' +So, underneath the belly of their steeds, +That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood, +The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. + +WARWICK +Then let the earth be drunken with our blood: +I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. +Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, +Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage; +And look upon, as if the tragedy +Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors? +Here on my knee I vow to God above, +I'll never pause again, never stand still, +Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine +Or fortune given me measure of revenge. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine; +And in this vow do chain my soul to thine! +And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face, +I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee, +Thou setter up and plucker down of kings, +Beseeching thee, if with they will it stands +That to my foes this body must be prey, +Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope, +And give sweet passage to my sinful soul! +Now, lords, take leave until we meet again, +Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth. + +RICHARD +Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, +Let me embrace thee in my weary arms: +I, that did never weep, now melt with woe +That winter should cut off our spring-time so. + +WARWICK +Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell. + +GEORGE +Yet let us all together to our troops, +And give them leave to fly that will not stay; +And call them pillars that will stand to us; +And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards +As victors wear at the Olympian games: +This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; +For yet is hope of life and victory. +Forslow no longer, make we hence amain. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD +RICHARD +Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: +Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York, +And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, +Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall. + +CLIFFORD +Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: +This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York; +And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland; +And here's the heart that triumphs in their death +And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother +To execute the like upon thyself; +And so, have at thee! + +They fight. WARWICK comes; CLIFFORD flies + +RICHARD +Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; +For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone +KING HENRY VI +This battle fares like to the morning's war, +When dying clouds contend with growing light, +What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, +Can neither call it perfect day nor night. +Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea +Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; +Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea +Forced to retire by fury of the wind: +Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; +Now one the better, then another best; +Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, +Yet neither conqueror nor conquered: +So is the equal of this fell war. +Here on this molehill will I sit me down. +To whom God will, there be the victory! +For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, +Have chid me from the battle; swearing both +They prosper best of all when I am thence. +Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; +For what is in this world but grief and woe? +O God! methinks it were a happy life, +To be no better than a homely swain; +To sit upon a hill, as I do now, +To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, +Thereby to see the minutes how they run, +How many make the hour full complete; +How many hours bring about the day; +How many days will finish up the year; +How many years a mortal man may live. +When this is known, then to divide the times: +So many hours must I tend my flock; +So many hours must I take my rest; +So many hours must I contemplate; +So many hours must I sport myself; +So many days my ewes have been with young; +So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean: +So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: +So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, +Pass'd over to the end they were created, +Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. +Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! +Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade +To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, +Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy +To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? +O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. +And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, +His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle. +His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, +All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, +Is far beyond a prince's delicates, +His viands sparkling in a golden cup, +His body couched in a curious bed, +When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. + +Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body + +Son +Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. +This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, +May be possessed with some store of crowns; +And I, that haply take them from him now, +May yet ere night yield both my life and them +To some man else, as this dead man doth me. +Who's this? O God! it is my father's face, +Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd. +O heavy times, begetting such events! +From London by the king was I press'd forth; +My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, +Came on the part of York, press'd by his master; +And I, who at his hands received my life, him +Have by my hands of life bereaved him. +Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! +And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! +My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; +And no more words till they have flow'd their fill. + +KING HENRY VI +O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! +Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, +Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. +Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear; +And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, +Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief. + +Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body + +Father +Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, +Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold: +For I have bought it with an hundred blows. +But let me see: is this our foeman's face? +Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! +Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, +Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise, +Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, +Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart! +O, pity, God, this miserable age! +What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, +Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural, +This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! +O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, +And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! + +KING HENRY VI +Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! +O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! +O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! +The red rose and the white are on his face, +The fatal colours of our striving houses: +The one his purple blood right well resembles; +The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth: +Wither one rose, and let the other flourish; +If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. + +Son +How will my mother for a father's death +Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied! + +Father +How will my wife for slaughter of my son +Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! + +KING HENRY VI +How will the country for these woful chances +Misthink the king and not be satisfied! + +Son +Was ever son so rued a father's death? + +Father +Was ever father so bemoan'd his son? + +KING HENRY VI +Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? +Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. + +Son +I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. + +Exit with the body + +Father +These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet; +My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre, +For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go; +My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; +And so obsequious will thy father be, +Even for the loss of thee, having no more, +As Priam was for all his valiant sons. +I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, +For I have murdered where I should not kill. + +Exit with the body + +KING HENRY VI +Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, +Here sits a king more woful than you are. + +Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER + +PRINCE EDWARD +Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, +And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: +Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain: +Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds +Having the fearful flying hare in sight, +With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath, +And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, +Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. + +EXETER +Away! for vengeance comes along with them: +Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; +Or else come after: I'll away before. + +KING HENRY VI +Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter: +Not that I fear to stay, but love to go +Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Another part of the field. + +A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded +CLIFFORD +Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, +Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light. +O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow +More than my body's parting with my soul! +My love and fear glued many friends to thee; +And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts. +Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York, +The common people swarm like summer flies; +And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? +And who shines now but Henry's enemies? +O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent +That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds, +Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth! +And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, +Or as thy father and his father did, +Giving no ground unto the house of York, +They never then had sprung like summer flies; +I and ten thousand in this luckless realm +Had left no mourning widows for our death; +And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. +For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? +And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? +Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; +No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: +The foe is merciless, and will not pity; +For at their hands I have deserved no pity. +The air hath got into my deadly wounds, +And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. +Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest; +I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. + +He faints + +Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, +And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. +Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen, +That led calm Henry, though he were a king, +As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, +Command an argosy to stem the waves. +But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? + +WARWICK +No, 'tis impossible he should escape, +For, though before his face I speak the words +Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: +And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. + +CLIFFORD groans, and dies + +EDWARD +Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? + +RICHARD +A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. + +EDWARD +See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, +If friend or foe, let him be gently used. + +RICHARD +Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; +Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch +In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, +But set his murdering knife unto the root +From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, +I mean our princely father, Duke of York. + +WARWICK +From off the gates of York fetch down the head, +Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; +Instead whereof let this supply the room: +Measure for measure must be answered. + +EDWARD +Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, +That nothing sung but death to us and ours: +Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, +And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. + +WARWICK +I think his understanding is bereft. +Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? +Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, +And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. + +RICHARD +O, would he did! and so perhaps he doth: +'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, +Because he would avoid such bitter taunts +Which in the time of death he gave our father. + +GEORGE +If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. + +RICHARD +Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. + +EDWARD +Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. + +WARWICK +Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. + +GEORGE +While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. + +RICHARD +Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. + +EDWARD +Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. + +GEORGE +Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? + +WARWICK +They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont. + +RICHARD +What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard +When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. +I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, +If this right hand would buy two hour's life, +That I in all despite might rail at him, +This hand should chop it off, and with the +issuing blood +Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst +York and young Rutland could not satisfy. + +WARWICK +Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head, +And rear it in the place your father's stands. +And now to London with triumphant march, +There to be crowned England's royal king: +From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France, +And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen: +So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; +And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread +The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; +For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, +Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. +First will I see the coronation; +And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea, +To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. + +EDWARD +Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; +For in thy shoulder do I build my seat, +And never will I undertake the thing +Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. +Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, +And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself, +Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. + +RICHARD +Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester; +For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. + +WARWICK +Tut, that's a foolish observation: +Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, +To see these honours in possession. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A forest in the north of England. + +Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands +First Keeper +Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; +For through this laund anon the deer will come; +And in this covert will we make our stand, +Culling the principal of all the deer. + +Second Keeper +I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. + +First Keeper +That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow +Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. +Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: +And, for the time shall not seem tedious, +I'll tell thee what befell me on a day +In this self-place where now we mean to stand. + +Second Keeper +Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, disguised, with a prayerbook + +KING HENRY VI +From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, +To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. +No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; +Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, +Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: +No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, +No humble suitors press to speak for right, +No, not a man comes for redress of thee; +For how can I help them, and not myself? + +First Keeper +Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: +This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. + +KING HENRY VI +Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, +For wise men say it is the wisest course. + +Second Keeper +Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. + +First Keeper +Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. + +KING HENRY VI +My queen and son are gone to France for aid; +And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick +Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister +To wife for Edward: if this news be true, +Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; +For Warwick is a subtle orator, +And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. +By this account then Margaret may win him; +For she's a woman to be pitied much: +Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; +Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; +The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; +And Nero will be tainted with remorse, +To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. +Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give; +She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, +He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. +She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; +He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd; +That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; +Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, +Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, +And in conclusion wins the king from her, +With promise of his sister, and what else, +To strengthen and support King Edward's place. +O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, +Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn! + +Second Keeper +Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? + +KING HENRY VI +More than I seem, and less than I was born to: +A man at least, for less I should not be; +And men may talk of kings, and why not I? + +Second Keeper +Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. + +Second Keeper +But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? + +KING HENRY VI +My crown is in my heart, not on my head; +Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, +Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: +A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. + +Second Keeper +Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, +Your crown content and you must be contented +To go along with us; for as we think, +You are the king King Edward hath deposed; +And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance +Will apprehend you as his enemy. + +KING HENRY VI +But did you never swear, and break an oath? + +Second Keeper +No, never such an oath; nor will not now. + +KING HENRY VI +Where did you dwell when I was King of England? + +Second Keeper +Here in this country, where we now remain. + +KING HENRY VI +I was anointed king at nine months old; +My father and my grandfather were kings, +And you were sworn true subjects unto me: +And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? + +First Keeper +No; +For we were subjects but while you were king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? +Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! +Look, as I blow this feather from my face, +And as the air blows it to me again, +Obeying with my wind when I do blow, +And yielding to another when it blows, +Commanded always by the greater gust; +Such is the lightness of you common men. +But do not break your oaths; for of that sin +My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. +Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; +And be you kings, command, and I'll obey. + +First Keeper +We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. + +KING HENRY VI +So would you be again to Henry, +If he were seated as King Edward is. + +First Keeper +We charge you, in God's name, and the king's, +To go with us unto the officers. + +KING HENRY VI +In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: +And what God will, that let your king perform; +And what he will, I humbly yield unto. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY +KING EDWARD IV +Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field +This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, +His lands then seized on by the conqueror: +Her suit is now to repossess those lands; +Which we in justice cannot well deny, +Because in quarrel of the house of York +The worthy gentleman did lose his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; +It were dishonour to deny it her. + +KING EDWARD IV +It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so? +I see the lady hath a thing to grant, +Before the king will grant her humble suit. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game: how true +he keeps the wind! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Silence! + +KING EDWARD IV +Widow, we will consider of your suit; +And come some other time to know our mind. + +LADY GREY +Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: +May it please your highness to resolve me now; +And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant +you all your lands, +An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. +Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she +chance to fall. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that! for he'll +take vantages. + +KING EDWARD IV +How many children hast thou, widow? tell me. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a +child of her. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, whip me then: he'll rather +give her two. + +LADY GREY +Three, my most gracious lord. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] You shall have four, if you'll +be ruled by him. + +KING EDWARD IV +'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. + +LADY GREY +Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. + +KING EDWARD IV +Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, good leave have you; for +you will have leave, +Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. + +GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE retire + +KING EDWARD IV +Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? + +LADY GREY +Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. + +KING EDWARD IV +And would you not do much to do them good? + +LADY GREY +To do them good, I would sustain some harm. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. + +LADY GREY +Therefore I came unto your majesty. + +KING EDWARD IV +I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. + +LADY GREY +So shall you bind me to your highness' service. + +KING EDWARD IV +What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? + +LADY GREY +What you command, that rests in me to do. + +KING EDWARD IV +But you will take exceptions to my boon. + +LADY GREY +No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. + +LADY GREY +Why, then I will do what your grace commands. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] He plies her hard; and much rain +wears the marble. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] As red as fire! nay, then +her wax must melt. + +LADY GREY +Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task? + +KING EDWARD IV +An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. + +LADY GREY +That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. + +LADY GREY +I take my leave with many thousand thanks. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The match is made; she seals it +with a curtsy. + +KING EDWARD IV +But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean. + +LADY GREY +The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. +What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? + +LADY GREY +My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers; +That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. + +KING EDWARD IV +No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. + +LADY GREY +Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. + +KING EDWARD IV +But now you partly may perceive my mind. + +LADY GREY +My mind will never grant what I perceive +Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. + +KING EDWARD IV +To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. + +LADY GREY +To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. + +LADY GREY +Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; +For by that loss I will not purchase them. + +KING EDWARD IV +Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. + +LADY GREY +Herein your highness wrongs both them and me. +But, mighty lord, this merry inclination +Accords not with the sadness of my suit: +Please you dismiss me either with 'ay' or 'no.' + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request; +No if thou dost say 'no' to my demand. + +LADY GREY +Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The widow likes him not, she +knits her brows. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He is the bluntest wooer in +Christendom. + +KING EDWARD IV +[Aside] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty; +Her words do show her wit incomparable; +All her perfections challenge sovereignty: +One way or other, she is for a king; +And she shall be my love, or else my queen.-- +Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? + +LADY GREY +'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord: +I am a subject fit to jest withal, +But far unfit to be a sovereign. + +KING EDWARD IV +Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee +I speak no more than what my soul intends; +And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. + +LADY GREY +And that is more than I will yield unto: +I know I am too mean to be your queen, +And yet too good to be your concubine. + +KING EDWARD IV +You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen. + +LADY GREY +'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father. + +KING EDWARD IV +No more than when my daughters call thee mother. +Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; +And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, +Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing +To be the father unto many sons. +Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The ghostly father now hath done +his shrift. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] When he was made a shriver, +'twas for shift. + +KING EDWARD IV +Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. + +GLOUCESTER +The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. + +KING EDWARD IV +You'll think it strange if I should marry her. + +CLARENCE +To whom, my lord? + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, Clarence, to myself. + +GLOUCESTER +That would be ten days' wonder at the least. + +CLARENCE +That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. + +GLOUCESTER +By so much is the wonder in extremes. + +KING EDWARD IV +Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both +Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. + +Enter a Nobleman + +Nobleman +My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, +And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. + +KING EDWARD IV +See that he be convey'd unto the Tower: +And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, +To question of his apprehension. +Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, Edward will use women honourably. +Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all, +That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, +To cross me from the golden time I look for! +And yet, between my soul's desire and me-- +The lustful Edward's title buried-- +Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward, +And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies, +To take their rooms, ere I can place myself: +A cold premeditation for my purpose! +Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty; +Like one that stands upon a promontory, +And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, +Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, +And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, +Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: +So do I wish the crown, being so far off; +And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; +And so I say, I'll cut the causes off, +Flattering me with impossibilities. +My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, +Unless my hand and strength could equal them. +Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard; +What other pleasure can the world afford? +I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, +And deck my body in gay ornaments, +And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. +O miserable thought! and more unlikely +Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! +Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: +And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, +She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe, +To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; +To make an envious mountain on my back, +Where sits deformity to mock my body; +To shape my legs of an unequal size; +To disproportion me in every part, +Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp +That carries no impression like the dam. +And am I then a man to be beloved? +O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! +Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, +But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such +As are of better person than myself, +I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, +And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell, +Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head +Be round impaled with a glorious crown. +And yet I know not how to get the crown, +For many lives stand between me and home: +And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood, +That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns, +Seeking a way and straying from the way; +Not knowing how to find the open air, +But toiling desperately to find it out,-- +Torment myself to catch the English crown: +And from that torment I will free myself, +Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. +Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, +And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart, +And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, +And frame my face to all occasions. +I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; +I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; +I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, +Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, +And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. +I can add colours to the chameleon, +Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, +And set the murderous Machiavel to school. +Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? +Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. + +Exit + +The Life of King Henry the Eighth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VIII | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +I come no more to make you laugh: things now, +That bear a weighty and a serious brow, +Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, +Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, +We now present. Those that can pity, here +May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; +The subject will deserve it. Such as give +Their money out of hope they may believe, +May here find truth too. Those that come to see +Only a show or two, and so agree +The play may pass, if they be still and willing, +I'll undertake may see away their shilling +Richly in two short hours. Only they +That come to hear a merry bawdy play, +A noise of targets, or to see a fellow +In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, +Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, +To rank our chosen truth with such a show +As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting +Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, +To make that only true we now intend, +Will leave us never an understanding friend. +Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known +The first and happiest hearers of the town, +Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see +The very persons of our noble story +As they were living; think you see them great, +And follow'd with the general throng and sweat +Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see +How soon this mightiness meets misery: +And, if you can be merry then, I'll say +A man may weep upon his wedding-day. + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM and ABERGAVENNY +BUCKINGHAM +Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done +Since last we saw in France? + +NORFOLK +I thank your grace, +Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer +Of what I saw there. + +BUCKINGHAM +An untimely ague +Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when +Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, +Met in the vale of Andren. + +NORFOLK +'Twixt Guynes and Arde: +I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; +Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung +In their embracement, as they grew together; +Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd +Such a compounded one? + +BUCKINGHAM +All the whole time +I was my chamber's prisoner. + +NORFOLK +Then you lost +The view of earthly glory: men might say, +Till this time pomp was single, but now married +To one above itself. Each following day +Became the next day's master, till the last +Made former wonders its. To-day the French, +All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, +Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they +Made Britain India: every man that stood +Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were +As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too, +Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear +The pride upon them, that their very labour +Was to them as a painting: now this masque +Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night +Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, +Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, +As presence did present them; him in eye, +Still him in praise: and, being present both +'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner +Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-- +For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged +The noble spirits to arms, they did perform +Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, +Being now seen possible enough, got credit, +That Bevis was believed. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, you go far. + +NORFOLK +As I belong to worship and affect +In honour honesty, the tract of every thing +Would by a good discourser lose some life, +Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; +To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. +Order gave each thing view; the office did +Distinctly his full function. + +BUCKINGHAM +Who did guide, +I mean, who set the body and the limbs +Of this great sport together, as you guess? + +NORFOLK +One, certes, that promises no element +In such a business. + +BUCKINGHAM +I pray you, who, my lord? + +NORFOLK +All this was order'd by the good discretion +Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. + +BUCKINGHAM +The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed +From his ambitious finger. What had he +To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder +That such a keech can with his very bulk +Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun +And keep it from the earth. + +NORFOLK +Surely, sir, +There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; +For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace +Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon +For high feats done to the crown; neither allied +For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, +Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, +The force of his own merit makes his way +A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys +A place next to the king. + +ABERGAVENNY +I cannot tell +What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye +Pierce into that; but I can see his pride +Peep through each part of him: whence has he that, +If not from hell? the devil is a niggard, +Or has given all before, and he begins +A new hell in himself. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why the devil, +Upon this French going out, took he upon him, +Without the privity o' the king, to appoint +Who should attend on him? He makes up the file +Of all the gentry; for the most part such +To whom as great a charge as little honour +He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, +The honourable board of council out, +Must fetch him in the papers. + +ABERGAVENNY +I do know +Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have +By this so sickened their estates, that never +They shall abound as formerly. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, many +Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em +For this great journey. What did this vanity +But minister communication of +A most poor issue? + +NORFOLK +Grievingly I think, +The peace between the French and us not values +The cost that did conclude it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Every man, +After the hideous storm that follow'd, was +A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke +Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, +Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded +The sudden breach on't. + +NORFOLK +Which is budded out; +For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd +Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. + +ABERGAVENNY +Is it therefore +The ambassador is silenced? + +NORFOLK +Marry, is't. + +ABERGAVENNY +A proper title of a peace; and purchased +At a superfluous rate! + +BUCKINGHAM +Why, all this business +Our reverend cardinal carried. + +NORFOLK +Like it your grace, +The state takes notice of the private difference +Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you-- +And take it from a heart that wishes towards you +Honour and plenteous safety--that you read +The cardinal's malice and his potency +Together; to consider further that +What his high hatred would effect wants not +A minister in his power. You know his nature, +That he's revengeful, and I know his sword +Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, +It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, +Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, +You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock +That I advise your shunning. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? +Where's his examination? + +First Secretary +Here, so please you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he in person ready? + +First Secretary +Ay, please your grace. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham +Shall lessen this big look. + +Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train + +BUCKINGHAM +This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I +Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best +Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book +Outworths a noble's blood. + +NORFOLK +What, are you chafed? +Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only +Which your disease requires. + +BUCKINGHAM +I read in's looks +Matter against me; and his eye reviled +Me, as his abject object: at this instant +He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; +I'll follow and outstare him. + +NORFOLK +Stay, my lord, +And let your reason with your choler question +What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills +Requires slow pace at first: anger is like +A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, +Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England +Can advise me like you: be to yourself +As you would to your friend. + +BUCKINGHAM +I'll to the king; +And from a mouth of honour quite cry down +This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim +There's difference in no persons. + +NORFOLK +Be advised; +Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot +That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, +By violent swiftness, that which we run at, +And lose by over-running. Know you not, +The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, +In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: +I say again, there is no English soul +More stronger to direct you than yourself, +If with the sap of reason you would quench, +Or but allay, the fire of passion. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir, +I am thankful to you; and I'll go along +By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, +Whom from the flow of gall I name not but +From sincere motions, by intelligence, +And proofs as clear as founts in July when +We see each grain of gravel, I do know +To be corrupt and treasonous. + +NORFOLK +Say not 'treasonous.' + +BUCKINGHAM +To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong +As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, +Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous +As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief +As able to perform't; his mind and place +Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-- +Only to show his pomp as well in France +As here at home, suggests the king our master +To this last costly treaty, the interview, +That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass +Did break i' the rinsing. + +NORFOLK +Faith, and so it did. + +BUCKINGHAM +Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal +The articles o' the combination drew +As himself pleased; and they were ratified +As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end +As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal +Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, +Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,-- +Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy +To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor, +Under pretence to see the queen his aunt-- +For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came +To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation: +His fears were, that the interview betwixt +England and France might, through their amity, +Breed him some prejudice; for from this league +Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily +Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-- +Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor +Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted +Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, +And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, +That he would please to alter the king's course, +And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, +As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal +Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, +And for his own advantage. + +NORFOLK +I am sorry +To hear this of him; and could wish he were +Something mistaken in't. + +BUCKINGHAM +No, not a syllable: +I do pronounce him in that very shape +He shall appear in proof. + +Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and two or three of the Guard + +BRANDON +Your office, sergeant; execute it. + +Sergeant +Sir, +My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl +Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I +Arrest thee of high treason, in the name +Of our most sovereign king. + +BUCKINGHAM +Lo, you, my lord, +The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish +Under device and practise. + +BRANDON +I am sorry +To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on +The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure +You shall to the Tower. + +BUCKINGHAM +It will help me nothing +To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me +Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven +Be done in this and all things! I obey. +O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! + +BRANDON +Nay, he must bear you company. The king + +To ABERGAVENNY + +Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know +How he determines further. + +ABERGAVENNY +As the duke said, +The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure +By me obey'd! + +BRANDON +Here is a warrant from +The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies +Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, +One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-- + +BUCKINGHAM +So, so; +These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. + +BRANDON +A monk o' the Chartreux. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, Nicholas Hopkins? + +BRANDON +He. + +BUCKINGHAM +My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal +Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: +I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, +Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, +By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The council-chamber. + +Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY VIII's feet on his right side +KING HENRY VIII +My life itself, and the best heart of it, +Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level +Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks +To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us +That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person +I'll hear him his confessions justify; +And point by point the treasons of his master +He shall again relate. + +A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. + +KING HENRY VIII +Arise, and take place by us: half your suit +Never name to us; you have half our power: +The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; +Repeat your will and take it. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Thank your majesty. +That you would love yourself, and in that love +Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor +The dignity of your office, is the point +Of my petition. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lady mine, proceed. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am solicited, not by a few, +And those of true condition, that your subjects +Are in great grievance: there have been commissions +Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart +Of all their loyalties: wherein, although, +My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches +Most bitterly on you, as putter on +Of these exactions, yet the king our master-- +Whose honour heaven shield from soil!--even he +escapes not +Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks +The sides of loyalty, and almost appears +In loud rebellion. + +NORFOLK +Not almost appears, +It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, +The clothiers all, not able to maintain +The many to them longing, have put off +The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, +Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger +And lack of other means, in desperate manner +Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, +And danger serves among then! + +KING HENRY VIII +Taxation! +Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, +You that are blamed for it alike with us, +Know you of this taxation? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please you, sir, +I know but of a single part, in aught +Pertains to the state; and front but in that file +Where others tell steps with me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +No, my lord, +You know no more than others; but you frame +Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome +To those which would not know them, and yet must +Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, +Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are +Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em, +The back is sacrifice to the load. They say +They are devised by you; or else you suffer +Too hard an exclamation. + +KING HENRY VIII +Still exaction! +The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, +Is this exaction? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am much too venturous +In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd +Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief +Comes through commissions, which compel from each +The sixth part of his substance, to be levied +Without delay; and the pretence for this +Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: +Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze +Allegiance in them; their curses now +Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, +This tractable obedience is a slave +To each incensed will. I would your highness +Would give it quick consideration, for +There is no primer business. + +KING HENRY VIII +By my life, +This is against our pleasure. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And for me, +I have no further gone in this than by +A single voice; and that not pass'd me but +By learned approbation of the judges. If I am +Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know +My faculties nor person, yet will be +The chronicles of my doing, let me say +'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake +That virtue must go through. We must not stint +Our necessary actions, in the fear +To cope malicious censurers; which ever, +As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow +That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further +Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, +By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is +Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, +Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up +For our best act. If we shall stand still, +In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, +We should take root here where we sit, or sit +State-statues only. + +KING HENRY VIII +Things done well, +And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; +Things done without example, in their issue +Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent +Of this commission? I believe, not any. +We must not rend our subjects from our laws, +And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? +A trembling contribution! Why, we take +From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber; +And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, +The air will drink the sap. To every county +Where this is question'd send our letters, with +Free pardon to each man that has denied +The force of this commission: pray, look to't; +I put it to your care. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +A word with you. + +To the Secretary + +Let there be letters writ to every shire, +Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons +Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised +That through our intercession this revokement +And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you +Further in the proceeding. + +Exit Secretary + +Enter Surveyor + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham +Is run in your displeasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +It grieves many: +The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; +To nature none more bound; his training such, +That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, +And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, +When these so noble benefits shall prove +Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, +They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly +Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, +Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, +Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find +His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady, +Hath into monstrous habits put the graces +That once were his, and is become as black +As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-- +This was his gentleman in trust--of him +Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount +The fore-recited practises; whereof +We cannot feel too little, hear too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, +Most like a careful subject, have collected +Out of the Duke of Buckingham. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak freely. + +Surveyor +First, it was usual with him, every day +It would infect his speech, that if the king +Should without issue die, he'll carry it so +To make the sceptre his: these very words +I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, +Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced +Revenge upon the cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please your highness, note +This dangerous conception in this point. +Not friended by by his wish, to your high person +His will is most malignant; and it stretches +Beyond you, to your friends. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My learn'd lord cardinal, +Deliver all with charity. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak on: +How grounded he his title to the crown, +Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him +At any time speak aught? + +Surveyor +He was brought to this +By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. + +KING HENRY VIII +What was that Hopkins? + +Surveyor +Sir, a Chartreux friar, +His confessor, who fed him every minute +With words of sovereignty. + +KING HENRY VIII +How know'st thou this? + +Surveyor +Not long before your highness sped to France, +The duke being at the Rose, within the parish +Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand +What was the speech among the Londoners +Concerning the French journey: I replied, +Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, +To the king's danger. Presently the duke +Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted +'Twould prove the verity of certain words +Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he, +'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit +John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour +To hear from him a matter of some moment: +Whom after under the confession's seal +He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke +My chaplain to no creature living, but +To me, should utter, with demure confidence +This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs, +Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive +To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke +Shall govern England.' + +QUEEN KATHARINE +If I know you well, +You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office +On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed +You charge not in your spleen a noble person +And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; +Yes, heartily beseech you. + +KING HENRY VIII +Let him on. +Go forward. + +Surveyor +On my soul, I'll speak but truth. +I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions +The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him +To ruminate on this so far, until +It forged him some design, which, being believed, +It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush, +It can do me no damage;' adding further, +That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, +The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads +Should have gone off. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha! +There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further? + +Surveyor +I can, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +Proceed. + +Surveyor +Being at Greenwich, +After your highness had reproved the duke +About Sir William Blomer,-- + +KING HENRY VIII +I remember +Of such a time: being my sworn servant, +The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? + +Surveyor +'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed, +As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd +The part my father meant to act upon +The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, +Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, +As he made semblance of his duty, would +Have put his knife to him.' + +KING HENRY VIII +A giant traitor! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, +and this man out of prison? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +God mend all! + +KING HENRY VIII +There's something more would out of thee; what say'st? + +Surveyor +After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,' +He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, +Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes +He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor +Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo +His father by as much as a performance +Does an irresolute purpose. + +KING HENRY VIII +There's his period, +To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd; +Call him to present trial: if he may +Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, +Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night, +He's traitor to the height. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain and SANDS +Chamberlain +Is't possible the spells of France should juggle +Men into such strange mysteries? + +SANDS +New customs, +Though they be never so ridiculous, +Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. + +Chamberlain +As far as I see, all the good our English +Have got by the late voyage is but merely +A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; +For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly +Their very noses had been counsellors +To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. + +SANDS +They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it, +That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin +Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. + +Chamberlain +Death! my lord, +Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, +That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. + +Enter LOVELL + +How now! +What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? + +LOVELL +Faith, my lord, +I hear of none, but the new proclamation +That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. + +Chamberlain +What is't for? + +LOVELL +The reformation of our travell'd gallants, +That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. + +Chamberlain +I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs +To think an English courtier may be wise, +And never see the Louvre. + +LOVELL +They must either, +For so run the conditions, leave those remnants +Of fool and feather that they got in France, +With all their honourable point of ignorance +Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, +Abusing better men than they can be, +Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean +The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, +Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel, +And understand again like honest men; +Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, +They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away +The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. + +SANDS +'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases +Are grown so catching. + +Chamberlain +What a loss our ladies +Will have of these trim vanities! + +LOVELL +Ay, marry, +There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons +Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; +A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. + +SANDS +The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, +For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now +An honest country lord, as I am, beaten +A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong +And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, +Held current music too. + +Chamberlain +Well said, Lord Sands; +Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. + +SANDS +No, my lord; +Nor shall not, while I have a stump. + +Chamberlain +Sir Thomas, +Whither were you a-going? + +LOVELL +To the cardinal's: +Your lordship is a guest too. + +Chamberlain +O, 'tis true: +This night he makes a supper, and a great one, +To many lords and ladies; there will be +The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. + +LOVELL +That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, +A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; +His dews fall every where. + +Chamberlain +No doubt he's noble; +He had a black mouth that said other of him. + +SANDS +He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him +Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: +Men of his way should be most liberal; +They are set here for examples. + +Chamberlain +True, they are so: +But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; +Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, +We shall be late else; which I would not be, +For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford +This night to be comptrollers. + +SANDS +I am your lordship's. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place. + +Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD +GUILDFORD +Ladies, a general welcome from his grace +Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates +To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, +In all this noble bevy, has brought with her +One care abroad; he would have all as merry +As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome, +Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: + +Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL + +The very thought of this fair company +Clapp'd wings to me. + +Chamberlain +You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. + +SANDS +Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal +But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these +Should find a running banquet ere they rested, +I think would better please 'em: by my life, +They are a sweet society of fair ones. + +LOVELL +O, that your lordship were but now confessor +To one or two of these! + +SANDS +I would I were; +They should find easy penance. + +LOVELL +Faith, how easy? + +SANDS +As easy as a down-bed would afford it. + +Chamberlain +Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, +Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this: +His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; +Two women placed together makes cold weather: +My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; +Pray, sit between these ladies. + +SANDS +By my faith, +And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: +If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; +I had it from my father. + +ANNE +Was he mad, sir? + +SANDS +O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too: +But he would bite none; just as I do now, +He would kiss you twenty with a breath. + +Kisses her + +Chamberlain +Well said, my lord. +So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, +The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies +Pass away frowning. + +SANDS +For my little cure, +Let me alone. + +Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady, +Or gentleman, that is not freely merry, +Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; +And to you all, good health. + +Drinks + +SANDS +Your grace is noble: +Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, +And save me so much talking. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My Lord Sands, +I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. +Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen, +Whose fault is this? + +SANDS +The red wine first must rise +In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em +Talk us to silence. + +ANNE +You are a merry gamester, +My Lord Sands. + +SANDS +Yes, if I make my play. +Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam, +For 'tis to such a thing,-- + +ANNE +You cannot show me. + +SANDS +I told your grace they would talk anon. + +Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What's that? + +Chamberlain +Look out there, some of ye. + +Exit Servant + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What warlike voice, +And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; +By all the laws of war you're privileged. + +Re-enter Servant + +Chamberlain +How now! what is't? + +Servant +A noble troop of strangers; +For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; +And hither make, as great ambassadors +From foreign princes. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Good lord chamberlain, +Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; +And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em +Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty +Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. + +Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed + +You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it. +A good digestion to you all: and once more +I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. + +Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him + +A noble company! what are their pleasures? + +Chamberlain +Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd +To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame +Of this so noble and so fair assembly +This night to meet here, they could do no less +Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, +But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct, +Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat +An hour of revels with 'em. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Say, lord chamberlain, +They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em +A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. + +They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII chooses ANNE + +KING HENRY VIII +The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, +Till now I never knew thee! + +Music. Dance + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My lord! + +Chamberlain +Your grace? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, tell 'em thus much from me: +There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, +More worthy this place than myself; to whom, +If I but knew him, with my love and duty +I would surrender it. + +Chamberlain +I will, my lord. + +Whispers the Masquers + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What say they? + +Chamberlain +Such a one, they all confess, +There is indeed; which they would have your grace +Find out, and he will take it. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Let me see, then. +By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make +My royal choice. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye have found him, cardinal: + +Unmasking + +You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord: +You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal, +I should judge now unhappily. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I am glad +Your grace is grown so pleasant. + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord chamberlain, +Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that? + +Chamberlain +An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter-- +The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women. + +KING HENRY VIII +By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, +I were unmannerly, to take you out, +And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! +Let it go round. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready +I' the privy chamber? + +LOVELL +Yes, my lord. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace, +I fear, with dancing is a little heated. + +KING HENRY VIII +I fear, too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +There's fresher air, my lord, +In the next chamber. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner, +I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry: +Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths +To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure +To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream +Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. + +Exeunt with trumpets + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Westminster. A street. + +Enter two Gentlemen, meeting +First Gentleman +Whither away so fast? + +Second Gentleman +O, God save ye! +Even to the hall, to hear what shall become +Of the great Duke of Buckingham. + +First Gentleman +I'll save you +That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony +Of bringing back the prisoner. + +Second Gentleman +Were you there? + +First Gentleman +Yes, indeed, was I. + +Second Gentleman +Pray, speak what has happen'd. + +First Gentleman +You may guess quickly what. + +Second Gentleman +Is he found guilty? + +First Gentleman +Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't. + +Second Gentleman +I am sorry for't. + +First Gentleman +So are a number more. + +Second Gentleman +But, pray, how pass'd it? + +First Gentleman +I'll tell you in a little. The great duke +Came to the bar; where to his accusations +He pleaded still not guilty and alleged +Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. +The king's attorney on the contrary +Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions +Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired +To have brought viva voce to his face: +At which appear'd against him his surveyor; +Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, +Confessor to him; with that devil-monk, +Hopkins, that made this mischief. + +Second Gentleman +That was he +That fed him with his prophecies? + +First Gentleman +The same. +All these accused him strongly; which he fain +Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: +And so his peers, upon this evidence, +Have found him guilty of high treason. Much +He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all +Was either pitied in him or forgotten. + +Second Gentleman +After all this, how did he bear himself? + +First Gentleman +When he was brought again to the bar, to hear +His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd +With such an agony, he sweat extremely, +And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: +But he fell to himself again, and sweetly +In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. + +Second Gentleman +I do not think he fears death. + +First Gentleman +Sure, he does not: +He never was so womanish; the cause +He may a little grieve at. + +Second Gentleman +Certainly +The cardinal is the end of this. + +First Gentleman +'Tis likely, +By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder, +Then deputy of Ireland; who removed, +Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, +Lest he should help his father. + +Second Gentleman +That trick of state +Was a deep envious one. + +First Gentleman +At his return +No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, +And generally, whoever the king favours, +The cardinal instantly will find employment, +And far enough from court too. + +Second Gentleman +All the commons +Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, +Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much +They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham, +The mirror of all courtesy;-- + +First Gentleman +Stay there, sir, +And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL, VAUX, SANDS, and common people + +Second Gentleman +Let's stand close, and behold him. + +BUCKINGHAM +All good people, +You that thus far have come to pity me, +Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. +I have this day received a traitor's judgment, +And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, +And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me, +Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! +The law I bear no malice for my death; +'T has done, upon the premises, but justice: +But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: +Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em: +Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, +Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; +For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em. +For further life in this world I ne'er hope, +Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies +More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me, +And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, +His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave +Is only bitter to him, only dying, +Go with me, like good angels, to my end; +And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, +Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, +And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. + +LOVELL +I do beseech your grace, for charity, +If ever any malice in your heart +Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you +As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; +There cannot be those numberless offences +'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: +no black envy +Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace; +And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him +You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers +Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake, +Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live +Longer than I have time to tell his years! +Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! +And when old time shall lead him to his end, +Goodness and he fill up one monument! + +LOVELL +To the water side I must conduct your grace; +Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, +Who undertakes you to your end. + +VAUX +Prepare there, +The duke is coming: see the barge be ready; +And fit it with such furniture as suits +The greatness of his person. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nay, Sir Nicholas, +Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. +When I came hither, I was lord high constable +And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: +Yet I am richer than my base accusers, +That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; +And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't. +My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, +Who first raised head against usurping Richard, +Flying for succor to his servant Banister, +Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, +And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! +Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying +My father's loss, like a most royal prince, +Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins, +Made my name once more noble. Now his son, +Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all +That made me happy at one stroke has taken +For ever from the world. I had my trial, +And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me, +A little happier than my wretched father: +Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both +Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most; +A most unnatural and faithless service! +Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me, +This from a dying man receive as certain: +Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels +Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends +And give your hearts to, when they once perceive +The least rub in your fortunes, fall away +Like water from ye, never found again +But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, +Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour +Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: +And when you would say something that is sad, +Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me! + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train + +First Gentleman +O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, +I fear, too many curses on their beads +That were the authors. + +Second Gentleman +If the duke be guiltless, +'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling +Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, +Greater than this. + +First Gentleman +Good angels keep it from us! +What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? + +Second Gentleman +This secret is so weighty, 'twill require +A strong faith to conceal it. + +First Gentleman +Let me have it; +I do not talk much. + +Second Gentleman +I am confident, +You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear +A buzzing of a separation +Between the king and Katharine? + +First Gentleman +Yes, but it held not: +For when the king once heard it, out of anger +He sent command to the lord mayor straight +To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues +That durst disperse it. + +Second Gentleman +But that slander, sir, +Is found a truth now: for it grows again +Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain +The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, +Or some about him near, have, out of malice +To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple +That will undo her: to confirm this too, +Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately; +As all think, for this business. + +First Gentleman +'Tis the cardinal; +And merely to revenge him on the emperor +For not bestowing on him, at his asking, +The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed. + +Second Gentleman +I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel +That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal +Will have his will, and she must fall. + +First Gentleman +'Tis woful. +We are too open here to argue this; +Let's think in private more. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter +Chamberlain +'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with +all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and +furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the +best breed in the north. When they were ready to +set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by +commission and main power, took 'em from me; with +this reason: His master would be served before a +subject, if not before the king; which stopped our +mouths, sir.' +I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them: +He will have all, I think. + +Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +NORFOLK +Well met, my lord chamberlain. + +Chamberlain +Good day to both your graces. + +SUFFOLK +How is the king employ'd? + +Chamberlain +I left him private, +Full of sad thoughts and troubles. + +NORFOLK +What's the cause? + +Chamberlain +It seems the marriage with his brother's wife +Has crept too near his conscience. + +SUFFOLK +No, his conscience +Has crept too near another lady. + +NORFOLK +'Tis so: +This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: +That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, +Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. + +SUFFOLK +Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. + +NORFOLK +How holily he works in all his business! +And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league +Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, +He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters +Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, +Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: +And out of all these to restore the king, +He counsels a divorce; a loss of her +That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years +About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; +Of her that loves him with that excellence +That angels love good men with; even of her +That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, +Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? + +Chamberlain +Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true +These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, +And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare +Look into these affairs see this main end, +The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open +The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon +This bold bad man. + +SUFFOLK +And free us from his slavery. + +NORFOLK +We had need pray, +And heartily, for our deliverance; +Or this imperious man will work us all +From princes into pages: all men's honours +Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd +Into what pitch he please. + +SUFFOLK +For me, my lords, +I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: +As I am made without him, so I'll stand, +If the king please; his curses and his blessings +Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. +I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him +To him that made him proud, the pope. + +NORFOLK +Let's in; +And with some other business put the king +From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him: +My lord, you'll bear us company? + +Chamberlain +Excuse me; +The king has sent me otherwhere: besides, +You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: +Health to your lordships. + +NORFOLK +Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. + +Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively + +SUFFOLK +How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, ha? + +NORFOLK +Pray God he be not angry. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves +Into my private meditations? +Who am I? ha? + +NORFOLK +A gracious king that pardons all offences +Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way +Is business of estate; in which we come +To know your royal pleasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye are too bold: +Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: +Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a commission + +Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, +The quiet of my wounded conscience; +Thou art a cure fit for a king. + +To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +You're welcome, +Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: +Use us and it. + +To CARDINAL WOLSEY + +My good lord, have great care +I be not found a talker. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, you cannot. +I would your grace would give us but an hour +Of private conference. + +KING HENRY VIII +[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] +We are busy; go. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] +This priest has no pride in him? + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of: +I would not be so sick though for his place: +But this cannot continue. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do, +I'll venture one have-at-him. + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] I another. + +Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom +Above all princes, in committing freely +Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: +Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? +The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her, +Must now confess, if they have any goodness, +The trial just and noble. All the clerks, +I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms +Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, +Invited by your noble self, hath sent +One general tongue unto us, this good man, +This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; +Whom once more I present unto your highness. + +KING HENRY VIII +And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, +And thank the holy conclave for their loves: +They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, +You are so noble. To your highness' hand +I tender my commission; by whose virtue, +The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord +Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant +In the unpartial judging of this business. + +KING HENRY VIII +Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted +Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I know your majesty has always loved her +So dear in heart, not to deny her that +A woman of less place might ask by law: +Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour +To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, +Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: +I find him a fit fellow. + +Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY + +Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand much joy and +favour to you; +You are the king's now. + +GARDINER +[Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY] +But to be commanded +For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. + +KING HENRY VIII +Come hither, Gardiner. + +Walks and whispers + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace +In this man's place before him? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, he was. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Was he not held a learned man? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, surely. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then +Even of yourself, lord cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +How! of me? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +They will not stick to say you envied him, +And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, +Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him, +That he ran mad and died. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven's peace be with him! +That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers +There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; +For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, +If I command him, follows my appointment: +I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, +We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. + +KING HENRY VIII +Deliver this with modesty to the queen. + +Exit GARDINER + +The most convenient place that I can think of +For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars; +There ye shall meet about this weighty business. +My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, +Would it not grieve an able man to leave +So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! +O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments. + +Enter ANNE and an Old Lady +ANNE +Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches: +His highness having lived so long with her, and she +So good a lady that no tongue could ever +Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life, +She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after +So many courses of the sun enthroned, +Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which +To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than +'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process, +To give her the avaunt! it is a pity +Would move a monster. + +Old Lady +Hearts of most hard temper +Melt and lament for her. + +ANNE +O, God's will! much better +She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal, +Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce +It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging +As soul and body's severing. + +Old Lady +Alas, poor lady! +She's a stranger now again. + +ANNE +So much the more +Must pity drop upon her. Verily, +I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, +And range with humble livers in content, +Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, +And wear a golden sorrow. + +Old Lady +Our content +Is our best having. + +ANNE +By my troth and maidenhead, +I would not be a queen. + +Old Lady +Beshrew me, I would, +And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, +For all this spice of your hypocrisy: +You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, +Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet +Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; +Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, +Saving your mincing, the capacity +Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, +If you might please to stretch it. + +ANNE +Nay, good troth. + +Old Lady +Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen? + +ANNE +No, not for all the riches under heaven. +Old Lady: 'Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would hire me, +Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you, +What think you of a duchess? have you limbs +To bear that load of title? + +ANNE +No, in truth. + +Old Lady +Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; +I would not be a young count in your way, +For more than blushing comes to: if your back +Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak +Ever to get a boy. + +ANNE +How you do talk! +I swear again, I would not be a queen +For all the world. + +Old Lady +In faith, for little England +You'ld venture an emballing: I myself +Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd +No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here? + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know +The secret of your conference? + +ANNE +My good lord, +Not your demand; it values not your asking: +Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. + +Chamberlain +It was a gentle business, and becoming +The action of good women: there is hope +All will be well. + +ANNE +Now, I pray God, amen! + +Chamberlain +You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings +Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, +Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's +Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty +Commends his good opinion of you, and +Does purpose honour to you no less flowing +Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title +A thousand pound a year, annual support, +Out of his grace he adds. + +ANNE +I do not know +What kind of my obedience I should tender; +More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers +Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes +More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes +Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, +Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, +As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; +Whose health and royalty I pray for. + +Chamberlain +Lady, +I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit +The king hath of you. + +Aside + +I have perused her well; +Beauty and honour in her are so mingled +That they have caught the king: and who knows yet +But from this lady may proceed a gem +To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king, +And say I spoke with you. + +Exit Chamberlain + +ANNE +My honour'd lord. + +Old Lady +Why, this it is; see, see! +I have been begging sixteen years in court, +Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could +Come pat betwixt too early and too late +For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! +A very fresh-fish here--fie, fie, fie upon +This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up +Before you open it. + +ANNE +This is strange to me. + +Old Lady +How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. +There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, +That would not be a queen, that would she not, +For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it? + +ANNE +Come, you are pleasant. + +Old Lady +With your theme, I could +O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke! +A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! +No other obligation! By my life, +That promises moe thousands: honour's train +Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time +I know your back will bear a duchess: say, +Are you not stronger than you were? + +ANNE +Good lady, +Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, +And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, +If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me, +To think what follows. +The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful +In our long absence: pray, do not deliver +What here you've heard to her. + +Old Lady +What do you think me? + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. + +Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone; after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Whilst our commission from Rome is read, +Let silence be commanded. + +KING HENRY VIII +What's the need? +It hath already publicly been read, +And on all sides the authority allow'd; +You may, then, spare that time. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be't so. Proceed. + +Scribe +Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Henry King of England, & c. + +KING HENRY VIII +Here. + +Scribe +Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, & c. + +QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, I desire you do me right and justice; +And to bestow your pity on me: for +I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, +Born out of your dominions; having here +No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance +Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, +In what have I offended you? what cause +Hath my behavior given to your displeasure, +That thus you should proceed to put me off, +And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, +I have been to you a true and humble wife, +At all times to your will conformable; +Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, +Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry +As I saw it inclined: when was the hour +I ever contradicted your desire, +Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends +Have I not strove to love, although I knew +He were mine enemy? what friend of mine +That had to him derived your anger, did I +Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice +He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind +That I have been your wife, in this obedience, +Upward of twenty years, and have been blest +With many children by you: if, in the course +And process of this time, you can report, +And prove it too, against mine honour aught, +My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, +Against your sacred person, in God's name, +Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt +Shut door upon me, and so give me up +To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir, +The king, your father, was reputed for +A prince most prudent, of an excellent +And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, +My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one +The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many +A year before: it is not to be question'd +That they had gather'd a wise council to them +Of every realm, that did debate this business, +Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly +Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may +Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel +I will implore: if not, i' the name of God, +Your pleasure be fulfill'd! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You have here, lady, +And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men +Of singular integrity and learning, +Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled +To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless +That longer you desire the court; as well +For your own quiet, as to rectify +What is unsettled in the king. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +His grace +Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, +It's fit this royal session do proceed; +And that, without delay, their arguments +Be now produced and heard. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Lord cardinal, +To you I speak. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your pleasure, madam? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, +I am about to weep; but, thinking that +We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain +The daughter of a king, my drops of tears +I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be patient yet. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I will, when you are humble; nay, before, +Or God will punish me. I do believe, +Induced by potent circumstances, that +You are mine enemy, and make my challenge +You shall not be my judge: for it is you +Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me; +Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, +I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul +Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more, +I hold my most malicious foe, and think not +At all a friend to truth. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I do profess +You speak not like yourself; who ever yet +Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects +Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom +O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong: +I have no spleen against you; nor injustice +For you or any: how far I have proceeded, +Or how far further shall, is warranted +By a commission from the consistory, +Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me +That I have blown this coal: I do deny it: +The king is present: if it be known to him +That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, +And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much +As you have done my truth. If he know +That I am free of your report, he knows +I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him +It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to +Remove these thoughts from you: the which before +His highness shall speak in, I do beseech +You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking +And to say so no more. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, my lord, +I am a simple woman, much too weak +To oppose your cunning. You're meek and +humble-mouth'd; +You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, +With meekness and humility; but your heart +Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. +You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, +Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted +Where powers are your retainers, and your words, +Domestics to you, serve your will as't please +Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, +You tender more your person's honour than +Your high profession spiritual: that again +I do refuse you for my judge; and here, +Before you all, appeal unto the pope, +To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, +And to be judged by him. + +She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +The queen is obstinate, +Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and +Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. +She's going away. + +KING HENRY VIII +Call her again. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +GRIFFITH +Madam, you are call'd back. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: +When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help, +They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on: +I will not tarry; no, nor ever more +Upon this business my appearance make +In any of their courts. + +Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants + +KING HENRY VIII +Go thy ways, Kate: +That man i' the world who shall report he has +A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, +For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, +If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, +Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, +Obeying in commanding, and thy parts +Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, +The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born; +And, like her true nobility, she has +Carried herself towards me. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Most gracious sir, +In humblest manner I require your highness, +That it shall please you to declare, in hearing +Of all these ears,--for where I am robb'd and bound, +There must I be unloosed, although not there +At once and fully satisfied,--whether ever I +Did broach this business to your highness; or +Laid any scruple in your way, which might +Induce you to the question on't? or ever +Have to you, but with thanks to God for such +A royal lady, spake one the least word that might +Be to the prejudice of her present state, +Or touch of her good person? + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord cardinal, +I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, +I free you from't. You are not to be taught +That you have many enemies, that know not +Why they are so, but, like to village-curs, +Bark when their fellows do: by some of these +The queen is put in anger. You're excused: +But will you be more justified? You ever +Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired +It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, +The passages made toward it: on my honour, +I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, +And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't, +I will be bold with time and your attention: +Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't: +My conscience first received a tenderness, +Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd +By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador; +Who had been hither sent on the debating +A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and +Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business, +Ere a determinate resolution, he, +I mean the bishop, did require a respite; +Wherein he might the king his lord advertise +Whether our daughter were legitimate, +Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, +Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook +The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, +Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble +The region of my breast; which forced such way, +That many mazed considerings did throng +And press'd in with this caution. First, methought +I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had +Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, +If it conceived a male child by me, should +Do no more offices of life to't than +The grave does to the dead; for her male issue +Or died where they were made, or shortly after +This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought, +This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, +Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not +Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that +I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in +By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me +Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in +The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer +Toward this remedy, whereupon we are +Now present here together: that's to say, +I meant to rectify my conscience,--which +I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,-- +By all the reverend fathers of the land +And doctors learn'd: first I began in private +With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember +How under my oppression I did reek, +When I first moved you. + +LINCOLN +Very well, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say +How far you satisfied me. + +LINCOLN +So please your highness, +The question did at first so stagger me, +Bearing a state of mighty moment in't +And consequence of dread, that I committed +The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt; +And did entreat your highness to this course +Which you are running here. + +KING HENRY VIII +I then moved you, +My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave +To make this present summons: unsolicited +I left no reverend person in this court; +But by particular consent proceeded +Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on: +For no dislike i' the world against the person +Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points +Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward: +Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life +And kingly dignity, we are contented +To wear our mortal state to come with her, +Katharine our queen, before the primest creature +That's paragon'd o' the world. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +So please your highness, +The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness +That we adjourn this court till further day: +Meanwhile must be an earnest motion +Made to the queen, to call back her appeal +She intends unto his holiness. + +KING HENRY VIII +[Aside] I may perceive +These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor +This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. +My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, +Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, +My comfort comes along. Break up the court: +I say, set on. + +Exeunt in manner as they entered + + +ACT III +SCENE I. London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments. + +Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work +QUEEN KATHARINE +Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; +Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. + +SONG + +Orpheus with his lute made trees, +And the mountain tops that freeze, +Bow themselves when he did sing: +To his music plants and flowers +Ever sprung; as sun and showers +There had made a lasting spring. +Every thing that heard him play, +Even the billows of the sea, +Hung their heads, and then lay by. +In sweet music is such art, +Killing care and grief of heart +Fall asleep, or hearing, die. + +Enter a Gentleman + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How now! + +Gentleman +An't please your grace, the two great cardinals +Wait in the presence. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would they speak with me? + +Gentleman +They will'd me say so, madam. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Pray their graces +To come near. + +Exit Gentleman + +What can be their business +With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? +I do not like their coming. Now I think on't, +They should be good men; their affairs as righteous: +But all hoods make not monks. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Peace to your highness! + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Your graces find me here part of a housewife, +I would be all, against the worst may happen. +What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +May it please you noble madam, to withdraw +Into your private chamber, we shall give you +The full cause of our coming. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Speak it here: +There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, +Deserves a corner: would all other women +Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! +My lords, I care not, so much I am happy +Above a number, if my actions +Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em, +Envy and base opinion set against 'em, +I know my life so even. If your business +Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, +Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina +serenissima,-- + +QUEEN KATHARINE +O, good my lord, no Latin; +I am not such a truant since my coming, +As not to know the language I have lived in: +A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, +suspicious; +Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, +If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; +Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal, +The willing'st sin I ever yet committed +May be absolved in English. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Noble lady, +I am sorry my integrity should breed, +And service to his majesty and you, +So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. +We come not by the way of accusation, +To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, +Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, +You have too much, good lady; but to know +How you stand minded in the weighty difference +Between the king and you; and to deliver, +Like free and honest men, our just opinions +And comforts to your cause. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Most honour'd madam, +My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, +Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace, +Forgetting, like a good man your late censure +Both of his truth and him, which was too far, +Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, +His service and his counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +[Aside] To betray me.-- +My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; +Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so! +But how to make ye suddenly an answer, +In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,-- +More near my life, I fear,--with my weak wit, +And to such men of gravity and learning, +In truth, I know not. I was set at work +Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking +Either for such men or such business. +For her sake that I have been,--for I feel +The last fit of my greatness,--good your graces, +Let me have time and counsel for my cause: +Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears: +Your hopes and friends are infinite. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +In England +But little for my profit: can you think, lords, +That any Englishman dare give me counsel? +Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure, +Though he be grown so desperate to be honest, +And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, +They that must weigh out my afflictions, +They that my trust must grow to, live not here: +They are, as all my other comforts, far hence +In mine own country, lords. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +I would your grace +Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How, sir? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Put your main cause into the king's protection; +He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much +Both for your honour better and your cause; +For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye, +You'll part away disgraced. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +He tells you rightly. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye tell me what ye wish for both,--my ruin: +Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! +Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge +That no king can corrupt. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your rage mistakes us. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye, +Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; +But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye: +Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? +The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, +A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? +I will not wish ye half my miseries; +I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye; +Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once +The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, this is a mere distraction; +You turn the good we offer into envy. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye +And all such false professors! would you have me-- +If you have any justice, any pity; +If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-- +Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? +Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, +His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, +And all the fellowship I hold now with him +Is only my obedience. What can happen +To me above this wretchedness? all your studies +Make me a curse like this. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your fears are worse. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself, +Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one? +A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, +Never yet branded with suspicion? +Have I with all my full affections +Still met the king? loved him next heaven? +obey'd him? +Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? +Almost forgot my prayers to content him? +And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. +Bring me a constant woman to her husband, +One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; +And to that woman, when she has done most, +Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, +To give up willingly that noble title +Your master wed me to: nothing but death +Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, hear me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would I had never trod this English earth, +Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! +Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. +What will become of me now, wretched lady! +I am the most unhappy woman living. +Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes! +Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, +No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me; +Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily, +That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, +I'll hang my head and perish. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +If your grace +Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, +You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady, +Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places, +The way of our profession is against it: +We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. +For goodness' sake, consider what you do; +How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly +Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. +The hearts of princes kiss obedience, +So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits +They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. +I know you have a gentle, noble temper, +A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us +Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues +With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, +As yours was put into you, ever casts +Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; +Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please +To trust us in your business, we are ready +To use our utmost studies in your service. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me, +If I have used myself unmannerly; +You know I am a woman, lacking wit +To make a seemly answer to such persons. +Pray, do my service to his majesty: +He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers +While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, +Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs, +That little thought, when she set footing here, +She should have bought her dignities so dear. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment. + +Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain +NORFOLK +If you will now unite in your complaints, +And force them with a constancy, the cardinal +Cannot stand under them: if you omit +The offer of this time, I cannot promise +But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, +With these you bear already. + +SURREY +I am joyful +To meet the least occasion that may give me +Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, +To be revenged on him. + +SUFFOLK +Which of the peers +Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least +Strangely neglected? when did he regard +The stamp of nobleness in any person +Out of himself? + +Chamberlain +My lords, you speak your pleasures: +What he deserves of you and me I know; +What we can do to him, though now the time +Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot +Bar his access to the king, never attempt +Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft +Over the king in's tongue. + +NORFOLK +O, fear him not; +His spell in that is out: the king hath found +Matter against him that for ever mars +The honey of his language. No, he's settled, +Not to come off, in his displeasure. + +SURREY +Sir, +I should be glad to hear such news as this +Once every hour. + +NORFOLK +Believe it, this is true: +In the divorce his contrary proceedings +Are all unfolded wherein he appears +As I would wish mine enemy. + +SURREY +How came +His practises to light? + +SUFFOLK +Most strangely. + +SURREY +O, how, how? + +SUFFOLK +The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, +And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read, +How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness +To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if +It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive +My king is tangled in affection to +A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.' + +SURREY +Has the king this? + +SUFFOLK +Believe it. + +SURREY +Will this work? + +Chamberlain +The king in this perceives him, how he coasts +And hedges his own way. But in this point +All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic +After his patient's death: the king already +Hath married the fair lady. + +SURREY +Would he had! + +SUFFOLK +May you be happy in your wish, my lord +For, I profess, you have it. + +SURREY +Now, all my joy +Trace the conjunction! + +SUFFOLK +My amen to't! + +NORFOLK +All men's! + +SUFFOLK +There's order given for her coronation: +Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left +To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, +She is a gallant creature, and complete +In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her +Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall +In it be memorised. + +SURREY +But, will the king +Digest this letter of the cardinal's? +The Lord forbid! + +NORFOLK +Marry, amen! + +SUFFOLK +No, no; +There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose +Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius +Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; +Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and +Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, +To second all his plot. I do assure you +The king cried Ha! at this. + +Chamberlain +Now, God incense him, +And let him cry Ha! louder! + +NORFOLK +But, my lord, +When returns Cranmer? + +SUFFOLK +He is return'd in his opinions; which +Have satisfied the king for his divorce, +Together with all famous colleges +Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, +His second marriage shall be publish'd, and +Her coronation. Katharine no more +Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager +And widow to Prince Arthur. + +NORFOLK +This same Cranmer's +A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain +In the king's business. + +SUFFOLK +He has; and we shall see him +For it an archbishop. + +NORFOLK +So I hear. + +SUFFOLK +'Tis so. +The cardinal! + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL + +NORFOLK +Observe, observe, he's moody. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The packet, Cromwell. +Gave't you the king? + +CROMWELL +To his own hand, in's bedchamber. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? + +CROMWELL +Presently +He did unseal them: and the first he view'd, +He did it with a serious mind; a heed +Was in his countenance. You he bade +Attend him here this morning. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he ready +To come abroad? + +CROMWELL +I think, by this he is. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Leave me awhile. + +Exit CROMWELL + +Aside + +It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, +The French king's sister: he shall marry her. +Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him: +There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen! +No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish +To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke! + +NORFOLK +He's discontented. + +SUFFOLK +May be, he hears the king +Does whet his anger to him. + +SURREY +Sharp enough, +Lord, for thy justice! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, +a knight's daughter, +To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen! +This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; +Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous +And well deserving? yet I know her for +A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to +Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of +Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up +An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one +Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, +And is his oracle. + +NORFOLK +He is vex'd at something. + +SURREY +I would 'twere something that would fret the string, +The master-cord on's heart! + +Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL + +SUFFOLK +The king, the king! + +KING HENRY VIII +What piles of wealth hath he accumulated +To his own portion! and what expense by the hour +Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift, +Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, +Saw you the cardinal? + +NORFOLK +My lord, we have +Stood here observing him: some strange commotion +Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; +Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, +Then lays his finger on his temple, straight +Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, +Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts +His eye against the moon: in most strange postures +We have seen him set himself. + +KING HENRY VIII +It may well be; +There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning +Papers of state he sent me to peruse, +As I required: and wot you what I found +There,--on my conscience, put unwittingly? +Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing; +The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, +Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which +I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks +Possession of a subject. + +NORFOLK +It's heaven's will: +Some spirit put this paper in the packet, +To bless your eye withal. + +KING HENRY VIII +If we did think +His contemplation were above the earth, +And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still +Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid +His thinkings are below the moon, not worth +His serious considering. + +King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL, who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven forgive me! +Ever God bless your highness! + +KING HENRY VIII +Good my lord, +You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory +Of your best graces in your mind; the which +You were now running o'er: you have scarce time +To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span +To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that +I deem you an ill husband, and am glad +To have you therein my companion. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, +For holy offices I have a time; a time +To think upon the part of business which +I bear i' the state; and nature does require +Her times of preservation, which perforce +I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, +Must give my tendence to. + +KING HENRY VIII +You have said well. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And ever may your highness yoke together, +As I will lend you cause, my doing well +With my well saying! + +KING HENRY VIII +'Tis well said again; +And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: +And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: +His said he did; and with his deed did crown +His word upon you. Since I had my office, +I have kept you next my heart; have not alone +Employ'd you where high profits might come home, +But pared my present havings, to bestow +My bounties upon you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] What should this mean? + +SURREY +[Aside] The Lord increase this business! + +KING HENRY VIII +Have I not made you, +The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, +If what I now pronounce you have found true: +And, if you may confess it, say withal, +If you are bound to us or no. What say you? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, +Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could +My studied purposes requite; which went +Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours +Have ever come too short of my desires, +Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends +Have been mine so that evermore they pointed +To the good of your most sacred person and +The profit of the state. For your great graces +Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I +Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, +My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, +Which ever has and ever shall be growing, +Till death, that winter, kill it. + +The Life and Death of King John +Shakespeare homepage | King John | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. KING JOHN'S palace. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON +KING JOHN +Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us? + +CHATILLON +Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France +In my behavior to the majesty, +The borrow'd majesty, of England here. + +QUEEN ELINOR +A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!' + +KING JOHN +Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. + +CHATILLON +Philip of France, in right and true behalf +Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, +Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim +To this fair island and the territories, +To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +Desiring thee to lay aside the sword +Which sways usurpingly these several titles, +And put these same into young Arthur's hand, +Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. + +KING JOHN +What follows if we disallow of this? + +CHATILLON +The proud control of fierce and bloody war, +To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. + +KING JOHN +Here have we war for war and blood for blood, +Controlment for controlment: so answer France. + +CHATILLON +Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, +The farthest limit of my embassy. + +KING JOHN +Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: +Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; +For ere thou canst report I will be there, +The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: +So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath +And sullen presage of your own decay. +An honourable conduct let him have: +Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon. + +Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE + +QUEEN ELINOR +What now, my son! have I not ever said +How that ambitious Constance would not cease +Till she had kindled France and all the world, +Upon the right and party of her son? +This might have been prevented and made whole +With very easy arguments of love, +Which now the manage of two kingdoms must +With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + +KING JOHN +Our strong possession and our right for us. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Your strong possession much more than your right, +Or else it must go wrong with you and me: +So much my conscience whispers in your ear, +Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. + +Enter a Sheriff + +ESSEX +My liege, here is the strangest controversy +Come from country to be judged by you, +That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men? + +KING JOHN +Let them approach. +Our abbeys and our priories shall pay +This expedition's charge. + +Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD + +What men are you? + +BASTARD +Your faithful subject I, a gentleman +Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son, +As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, +A soldier, by the honour-giving hand +Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field. + +KING JOHN +What art thou? + +ROBERT +The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. + +KING JOHN +Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? +You came not of one mother then, it seems. + +BASTARD +Most certain of one mother, mighty king; +That is well known; and, as I think, one father: +But for the certain knowledge of that truth +I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother: +Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother +And wound her honour with this diffidence. + +BASTARD +I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; +That is my brother's plea and none of mine; +The which if he can prove, a' pops me out +At least from fair five hundred pound a year: +Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land! + +KING JOHN +A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born, +Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? + +BASTARD +I know not why, except to get the land. +But once he slander'd me with bastardy: +But whether I be as true begot or no, +That still I lay upon my mother's head, +But that I am as well begot, my liege,-- +Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-- +Compare our faces and be judge yourself. +If old sir Robert did beget us both +And were our father and this son like him, +O old sir Robert, father, on my knee +I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee! + +KING JOHN +Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! + +QUEEN ELINOR +He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face; +The accent of his tongue affecteth him. +Do you not read some tokens of my son +In the large composition of this man? + +KING JOHN +Mine eye hath well examined his parts +And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, +What doth move you to claim your brother's land? + +BASTARD +Because he hath a half-face, like my father. +With half that face would he have all my land: +A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year! + +ROBERT +My gracious liege, when that my father lived, +Your brother did employ my father much,-- + +BASTARD +Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: +Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother. + +ROBERT +And once dispatch'd him in an embassy +To Germany, there with the emperor +To treat of high affairs touching that time. +The advantage of his absence took the king +And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; +Where how he did prevail I shame to speak, +But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores +Between my father and my mother lay, +As I have heard my father speak himself, +When this same lusty gentleman was got. +Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd +His lands to me, and took it on his death +That this my mother's son was none of his; +And if he were, he came into the world +Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. +Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, +My father's land, as was my father's will. + +KING JOHN +Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; +Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him, +And if she did play false, the fault was hers; +Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands +That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, +Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, +Had of your father claim'd this son for his? +In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept +This calf bred from his cow from all the world; +In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's, +My brother might not claim him; nor your father, +Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes; +My mother's son did get your father's heir; +Your father's heir must have your father's land. + +ROBERT +Shall then my father's will be of no force +To dispossess that child which is not his? + +BASTARD +Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, +Than was his will to get me, as I think. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge +And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, +Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion, +Lord of thy presence and no land beside? + +BASTARD +Madam, an if my brother had my shape, +And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him; +And if my legs were two such riding-rods, +My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin +That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose +Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!' +And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, +Would I might never stir from off this place, +I would give it every foot to have this face; +I would not be sir Nob in any case. + +QUEEN ELINOR +I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, +Bequeath thy land to him and follow me? +I am a soldier and now bound to France. + +BASTARD +Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance. +Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, +Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear. +Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Nay, I would have you go before me thither. + +BASTARD +Our country manners give our betters way. + +KING JOHN +What is thy name? + +BASTARD +Philip, my liege, so is my name begun, +Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son. + +KING JOHN +From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st: +Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great, +Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet. + +BASTARD +Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand: +My father gave me honour, yours gave land. +Now blessed by the hour, by night or day, +When I was got, sir Robert was away! + +QUEEN ELINOR +The very spirit of Plantagenet! +I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. + +BASTARD +Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though? +Something about, a little from the right, +In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: +Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, +And have is have, however men do catch: +Near or far off, well won is still well shot, +And I am I, howe'er I was begot. + +KING JOHN +Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire; +A landless knight makes thee a landed squire. +Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed +For France, for France, for it is more than need. + +BASTARD +Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee! +For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. + +Exeunt all but BASTARD + +A foot of honour better than I was; +But many a many foot of land the worse. +Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. +'Good den, sir Richard!'--'God-a-mercy, fellow!'-- +And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; +For new-made honour doth forget men's names; +'Tis too respective and too sociable +For your conversion. Now your traveller, +He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, +And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, +Why then I suck my teeth and catechise +My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,' +Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, +'I shall beseech you'--that is question now; +And then comes answer like an Absey book: +'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command; +At your employment; at your service, sir;' +'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:' +And so, ere answer knows what question would, +Saving in dialogue of compliment, +And talking of the Alps and Apennines, +The Pyrenean and the river Po, +It draws toward supper in conclusion so. +But this is worshipful society +And fits the mounting spirit like myself, +For he is but a bastard to the time +That doth not smack of observation; +And so am I, whether I smack or no; +And not alone in habit and device, +Exterior form, outward accoutrement, +But from the inward motion to deliver +Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: +Which, though I will not practise to deceive, +Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; +For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. +But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? +What woman-post is this? hath she no husband +That will take pains to blow a horn before her? + +Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY + +O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! +What brings you here to court so hastily? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he, +That holds in chase mine honour up and down? + +BASTARD +My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son? +Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? +Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy, +Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert? +He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou. + +BASTARD +James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? + +GURNEY +Good leave, good Philip. + +BASTARD +Philip! sparrow: James, +There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more. + +Exit GURNEY + +Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son: +Sir Robert might have eat his part in me +Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast: +Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess, +Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it: +We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother, +To whom am I beholding for these limbs? +Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, +That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? +What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? + +BASTARD +Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. +What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder. +But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son; +I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land; +Legitimation, name and all is gone: +Then, good my mother, let me know my father; +Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? + +BASTARD +As faithfully as I deny the devil. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father: +By long and vehement suit I was seduced +To make room for him in my husband's bed: +Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! +Thou art the issue of my dear offence, +Which was so strongly urged past my defence. + +BASTARD +Now, by this light, were I to get again, +Madam, I would not wish a better father. +Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, +And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: +Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, +Subjected tribute to commanding love, +Against whose fury and unmatched force +The aweless lion could not wage the fight, +Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. +He that perforce robs lions of their hearts +May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, +With all my heart I thank thee for my father! +Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well +When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. +Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin; +And they shall say, when Richard me begot, +If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: +Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. France. Before Angiers. + +Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side: on the other KING PHILIP and his power; LEWIS, ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants +LEWIS +Before Angiers well met, brave Austria. +Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, +Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart +And fought the holy wars in Palestine, +By this brave duke came early to his grave: +And for amends to his posterity, +At our importance hither is he come, +To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, +And to rebuke the usurpation +Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: +Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. + +ARTHUR +God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death +The rather that you give his offspring life, +Shadowing their right under your wings of war: +I give you welcome with a powerless hand, +But with a heart full of unstained love: +Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. + +LEWIS +A noble boy! Who would not do thee right? + +AUSTRIA +Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, +As seal to this indenture of my love, +That to my home I will no more return, +Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, +Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, +Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides +And coops from other lands her islanders, +Even till that England, hedged in with the main, +That water-walled bulwark, still secure +And confident from foreign purposes, +Even till that utmost corner of the west +Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, +Will I not think of home, but follow arms. + +CONSTANCE +O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, +Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength +To make a more requital to your love! + +AUSTRIA +The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords +In such a just and charitable war. + +KING PHILIP +Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent +Against the brows of this resisting town. +Call for our chiefest men of discipline, +To cull the plots of best advantages: +We'll lay before this town our royal bones, +Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, +But we will make it subject to this boy. + +CONSTANCE +Stay for an answer to your embassy, +Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: +My Lord Chatillon may from England bring, +That right in peace which here we urge in war, +And then we shall repent each drop of blood +That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. + +Enter CHATILLON + +KING PHILIP +A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, +Our messenger Chatillon is arrived! +What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; +We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak. + +CHATILLON +Then turn your forces from this paltry siege +And stir them up against a mightier task. +England, impatient of your just demands, +Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, +Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time +To land his legions all as soon as I; +His marches are expedient to this town, +His forces strong, his soldiers confident. +With him along is come the mother-queen, +An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; +With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain; +With them a bastard of the king's deceased, +And all the unsettled humours of the land, +Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, +With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, +Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, +Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, +To make hazard of new fortunes here: +In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits +Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er +Did nearer float upon the swelling tide, +To do offence and scath in Christendom. + +Drum beats + +The interruption of their churlish drums +Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, +To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. + +KING PHILIP +How much unlook'd for is this expedition! + +AUSTRIA +By how much unexpected, by so much +We must awake endavour for defence; +For courage mounteth with occasion: +Let them be welcome then: we are prepared. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, Lords, and forces + +KING JOHN +Peace be to France, if France in peace permit +Our just and lineal entrance to our own; +If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, +Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct +Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven. + +KING PHILIP +Peace be to England, if that war return +From France to England, there to live in peace. +England we love; and for that England's sake +With burden of our armour here we sweat. +This toil of ours should be a work of thine; +But thou from loving England art so far, +That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king +Cut off the sequence of posterity, +Out-faced infant state and done a rape +Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. +Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; +These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his: +This little abstract doth contain that large +Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time +Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. +That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, +And this his son; England was Geffrey's right +And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God +How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, +When living blood doth in these temples beat, +Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? + +KING JOHN +From whom hast thou this great commission, France, +To draw my answer from thy articles? + +KING PHILIP +From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts +In any breast of strong authority, +To look into the blots and stains of right: +That judge hath made me guardian to this boy: +Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong +And by whose help I mean to chastise it. + +KING JOHN +Alack, thou dost usurp authority. + +KING PHILIP +Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + +CONSTANCE +Let me make answer; thy usurping son. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king, +That thou mayst be a queen, and cheque the world! + +CONSTANCE +My bed was ever to thy son as true +As thine was to thy husband; and this boy +Liker in feature to his father Geffrey +Than thou and John in manners; being as like +As rain to water, or devil to his dam. +My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think +His father never was so true begot: +It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + +QUEEN ELINOR +There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + +CONSTANCE +There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! + +BASTARD +Hear the crier. + +AUSTRIA +What the devil art thou? + +BASTARD +One that will play the devil, sir, with you, +An a' may catch your hide and you alone: +You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, +Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard; +I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; +Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. + +BLANCH +O, well did he become that lion's robe +That did disrobe the lion of that robe! + +BASTARD +It lies as sightly on the back of him +As great Alcides' shows upon an ass: +But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back, +Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. + +AUSTRIA +What craker is this same that deafs our ears +With this abundance of superfluous breath? + +KING PHILIP +Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. + +LEWIS +Women and fools, break off your conference. +King John, this is the very sum of all; +England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +In right of Arthur do I claim of thee: +Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? + +KING JOHN +My life as soon: I do defy thee, France. +Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand; +And out of my dear love I'll give thee more +Than e'er the coward hand of France can win: +Submit thee, boy. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Come to thy grandam, child. + +CONSTANCE +Do, child, go to it grandam, child: +Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will +Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig: +There's a good grandam. + +ARTHUR +Good my mother, peace! +I would that I were low laid in my grave: +I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + +QUEEN ELINOR +His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + +CONSTANCE +Now shame upon you, whether she does or no! +His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, +Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, +Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; +Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed +To do him justice and revenge on you. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! + +CONSTANCE +Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth! +Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp +The dominations, royalties and rights +Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eld'st son's son, +Infortunate in nothing but in thee: +Thy sins are visited in this poor child; +The canon of the law is laid on him, +Being but the second generation +Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. + +KING JOHN +Bedlam, have done. + +CONSTANCE +I have but this to say, +That he is not only plagued for her sin, +But God hath made her sin and her the plague +On this removed issue, plague for her +And with her plague; her sin his injury, +Her injury the beadle to her sin, +All punish'd in the person of this child, +And all for her; a plague upon her! + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou unadvised scold, I can produce +A will that bars the title of thy son. + +CONSTANCE +Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will: +A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will! + +KING PHILIP +Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate: +It ill beseems this presence to cry aim +To these ill-tuned repetitions. +Some trumpet summon hither to the walls +These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak +Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. + +Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls + +First Citizen +Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls? + +KING PHILIP +'Tis France, for England. + +KING JOHN +England, for itself. +You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-- + +KING PHILIP +You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects, +Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle-- + +KING JOHN +For our advantage; therefore hear us first. +These flags of France, that are advanced here +Before the eye and prospect of your town, +Have hither march'd to your endamagement: +The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, +And ready mounted are they to spit forth +Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls: +All preparation for a bloody siege +All merciless proceeding by these French +Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates; +And but for our approach those sleeping stones, +That as a waist doth girdle you about, +By the compulsion of their ordinance +By this time from their fixed beds of lime +Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made +For bloody power to rush upon your peace. +But on the sight of us your lawful king, +Who painfully with much expedient march +Have brought a countercheque before your gates, +To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks, +Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle; +And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, +To make a shaking fever in your walls, +They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke, +To make a faithless error in your ears: +Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, +And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits, +Forwearied in this action of swift speed, +Crave harbourage within your city walls. + +KING PHILIP +When I have said, make answer to us both. +Lo, in this right hand, whose protection +Is most divinely vow'd upon the right +Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, +Son to the elder brother of this man, +And king o'er him and all that he enjoys: +For this down-trodden equity, we tread +In warlike march these greens before your town, +Being no further enemy to you +Than the constraint of hospitable zeal +In the relief of this oppressed child +Religiously provokes. Be pleased then +To pay that duty which you truly owe +To that owes it, namely this young prince: +And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, +Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up; +Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent +Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; +And with a blessed and unvex'd retire, +With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised, +We will bear home that lusty blood again +Which here we came to spout against your town, +And leave your children, wives and you in peace. +But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, +'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls +Can hide you from our messengers of war, +Though all these English and their discipline +Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. +Then tell us, shall your city call us lord, +In that behalf which we have challenged it? +Or shall we give the signal to our rage +And stalk in blood to our possession? + +First Citizen +In brief, we are the king of England's subjects: +For him, and in his right, we hold this town. + +KING JOHN +Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. + +First Citizen +That can we not; but he that proves the king, +To him will we prove loyal: till that time +Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. + +KING JOHN +Doth not the crown of England prove the king? +And if not that, I bring you witnesses, +Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,-- + +BASTARD +Bastards, and else. + +KING JOHN +To verify our title with their lives. + +KING PHILIP +As many and as well-born bloods as those,-- + +BASTARD +Some bastards too. + +KING PHILIP +Stand in his face to contradict his claim. + +First Citizen +Till you compound whose right is worthiest, +We for the worthiest hold the right from both. + +KING JOHN +Then God forgive the sin of all those souls +That to their everlasting residence, +Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, +In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king! + +KING PHILIP +Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms! + +BASTARD +Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since +Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, +Teach us some fence! + +To AUSTRIA + +Sirrah, were I at home, +At your den, sirrah, with your lioness +I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, +And make a monster of you. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! no more. + +BASTARD +O tremble, for you hear the lion roar. + +KING JOHN +Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth +In best appointment all our regiments. + +BASTARD +Speed then, to take advantage of the field. + +KING PHILIP +It shall be so; and at the other hill +Command the rest to stand. God and our right! + +Exeunt + +Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France, with trumpets, to the gates + +French Herald +You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, +And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, +Who by the hand of France this day hath made +Much work for tears in many an English mother, +Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; +Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, +Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth; +And victory, with little loss, doth play +Upon the dancing banners of the French, +Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, +To enter conquerors and to proclaim +Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours. + +Enter English Herald, with trumpet + +English Herald +Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells: +King John, your king and England's doth approach, +Commander of this hot malicious day: +Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, +Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; +There stuck no plume in any English crest +That is removed by a staff of France; +Our colours do return in those same hands +That did display them when we first march'd forth; +And, like a troop of jolly huntsmen, come +Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, +Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes: +Open your gates and gives the victors way. + +First Citizen +Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, +From first to last, the onset and retire +Of both your armies; whose equality +By our best eyes cannot be censured: +Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows; +Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: +Both are alike; and both alike we like. +One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, +We hold our town for neither, yet for both. + +Re-enter KING JOHN and KING PHILIP, with their powers, severally + +KING JOHN +France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? +Say, shall the current of our right run on? +Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, +Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell +With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, +Unless thou let his silver water keep +A peaceful progress to the ocean. + +KING PHILIP +England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood, +In this hot trial, more than we of France; +Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, +That sways the earth this climate overlooks, +Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, +We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, +Or add a royal number to the dead, +Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss +With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. + +BASTARD +Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, +When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! +O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; +The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; +And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men, +In undetermined differences of kings. +Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? +Cry, 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field, +You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits! +Then let confusion of one part confirm +The other's peace: till then, blows, blood and death! + +KING JOHN +Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? + +KING PHILIP +Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king? + +First Citizen +The king of England; when we know the king. + +KING PHILIP +Know him in us, that here hold up his right. + +KING JOHN +In us, that are our own great deputy +And bear possession of our person here, +Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. + +First Citizen +A greater power then we denies all this; +And till it be undoubted, we do lock +Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; +King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolved, +Be by some certain king purged and deposed. + +BASTARD +By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings, +And stand securely on their battlements, +As in a theatre, whence they gape and point +At your industrious scenes and acts of death. +Your royal presences be ruled by me: +Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, +Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend +Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: +By east and west let France and England mount +Their battering cannon charged to the mouths, +Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down +The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: +I'ld play incessantly upon these jades, +Even till unfenced desolation +Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. +That done, dissever your united strengths, +And part your mingled colours once again; +Turn face to face and bloody point to point; +Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth +Out of one side her happy minion, +To whom in favour she shall give the day, +And kiss him with a glorious victory. +How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? +Smacks it not something of the policy? + +KING JOHN +Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, +I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers +And lay this Angiers even to the ground; +Then after fight who shall be king of it? + +BASTARD +An if thou hast the mettle of a king, +Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, +Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, +As we will ours, against these saucy walls; +And when that we have dash'd them to the ground, +Why then defy each other and pell-mell +Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. + +KING PHILIP +Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? + +KING JOHN +We from the west will send destruction +Into this city's bosom. + +AUSTRIA +I from the north. + +KING PHILIP +Our thunder from the south +Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. + +BASTARD +O prudent discipline! From north to south: +Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: +I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away! + +First Citizen +Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay, +And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league; +Win you this city without stroke or wound; +Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, +That here come sacrifices for the field: +Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. + +KING JOHN +Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. + +First Citizen +That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, +Is niece to England: look upon the years +Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid: +If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, +Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? +If zealous love should go in search of virtue, +Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? +If love ambitious sought a match of birth, +Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch? +Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, +Is the young Dauphin every way complete: +If not complete of, say he is not she; +And she again wants nothing, to name want, +If want it be not that she is not he: +He is the half part of a blessed man, +Left to be finished by such as she; +And she a fair divided excellence, +Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. +O, two such silver currents, when they join, +Do glorify the banks that bound them in; +And two such shores to two such streams made one, +Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, +To these two princes, if you marry them. +This union shall do more than battery can +To our fast-closed gates; for at this match, +With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, +The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, +And give you entrance: but without this match, +The sea enraged is not half so deaf, +Lions more confident, mountains and rocks +More free from motion, no, not Death himself +In moral fury half so peremptory, +As we to keep this city. + +BASTARD +Here's a stay +That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death +Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, +That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas, +Talks as familiarly of roaring lions +As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! +What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? +He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce; +He gives the bastinado with his tongue: +Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his +But buffets better than a fist of France: +Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words +Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; +Give with our niece a dowry large enough: +For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie +Thy now unsured assurance to the crown, +That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe +The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. +I see a yielding in the looks of France; +Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls +Are capable of this ambition, +Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath +Of soft petitions, pity and remorse, +Cool and congeal again to what it was. + +First Citizen +Why answer not the double majesties +This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? + +KING PHILIP +Speak England first, that hath been forward first +To speak unto this city: what say you? + +KING JOHN +If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, +Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,' +Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: +For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, +And all that we upon this side the sea, +Except this city now by us besieged, +Find liable to our crown and dignity, +Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich +In titles, honours and promotions, +As she in beauty, education, blood, +Holds hand with any princess of the world. + +KING PHILIP +What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. + +LEWIS +I do, my lord; and in her eye I find +A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, +The shadow of myself form'd in her eye: +Which being but the shadow of your son, +Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow: +I do protest I never loved myself +Till now infixed I beheld myself +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. + +Whispers with BLANCH + +BASTARD +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! +Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! +And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy +Himself love's traitor: this is pity now, +That hang'd and drawn and quartered, there should be +In such a love so vile a lout as he. + +BLANCH +My uncle's will in this respect is mine: +If he see aught in you that makes him like, +That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, +I can with ease translate it to my will; +Or if you will, to speak more properly, +I will enforce it easily to my love. +Further I will not flatter you, my lord, +That all I see in you is worthy love, +Than this; that nothing do I see in you, +Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, +That I can find should merit any hate. + +KING JOHN +What say these young ones? What say you my niece? + +BLANCH +That she is bound in honour still to do +What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. + +KING JOHN +Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady? + +LEWIS +Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; +For I do love her most unfeignedly. + +KING JOHN +Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, +Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, +With her to thee; and this addition more, +Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. +Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, +Command thy son and daughter to join hands. + +KING PHILIP +It likes us well; young princes, close your hands. + +AUSTRIA +And your lips too; for I am well assured +That I did so when I was first assured. + +KING PHILIP +Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, +Let in that amity which you have made; +For at Saint Mary's chapel presently +The rites of marriage shall be solemnized. +Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? +I know she is not, for this match made up +Her presence would have interrupted much: +Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows. + +LEWIS +She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. + +KING PHILIP +And, by my faith, this league that we have made +Will give her sadness very little cure. +Brother of England, how may we content +This widow lady? In her right we came; +Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way, +To our own vantage. + +KING JOHN +We will heal up all; +For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne +And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town +We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance; +Some speedy messenger bid her repair +To our solemnity: I trust we shall, +If not fill up the measure of her will, +Yet in some measure satisfy her so +That we shall stop her exclamation. +Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, +To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp. + +Exeunt all but the BASTARD + +BASTARD +Mad world! mad kings! mad composition! +John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, +Hath willingly departed with a part, +And France, whose armour conscience buckled on, +Whom zeal and charity brought to the field +As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear +With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, +That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith, +That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, +Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, +Who, having no external thing to lose +But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that, +That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity, +Commodity, the bias of the world, +The world, who of itself is peised well, +Made to run even upon even ground, +Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, +This sway of motion, this Commodity, +Makes it take head from all indifferency, +From all direction, purpose, course, intent: +And this same bias, this Commodity, +This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, +Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, +Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, +From a resolved and honourable war, +To a most base and vile-concluded peace. +And why rail I on this Commodity? +But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: +Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, +When his fair angels would salute my palm; +But for my hand, as unattempted yet, +Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. +Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail +And say there is no sin but to be rich; +And being rich, my virtue then shall be +To say there is no vice but beggary. +Since kings break faith upon commodity, +Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee. + +Exit + +The Life and Death of Richard the Second +Shakespeare homepage | Richard II | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD II's palace. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other Nobles and Attendants +KING RICHARD II +Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, +Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD II +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, +If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD II +Then call them to our presence; face to face, +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak: +High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befal +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness; +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown! + +KING RICHARD II +We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come; +Namely to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +First, heaven be the record to my speech! +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tendering the precious safety of my prince, +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence. +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, +And mark my greeting well; for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth, +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain; +The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hush'd and nought at all to say: +First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; +Which else would post until it had return'd +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him; +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain: +Which to maintain I would allow him odds, +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, +Or any other ground inhabitable, +Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. +Mean time let this defend my loyalty, +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the king, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: +By that and all the rites of knighthood else, +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +I take it up; and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree, +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: +And when I mount, alive may I not light, +If I be traitor or unjustly fight! + +KING RICHARD II +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true; +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was survey'd by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. +Further I say and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood: +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries, +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, +To me for justice and rough chastisement; +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD II +How high a pitch his resolution soars! +Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood, +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD II +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears: +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow, +Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul: +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou: +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account, +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen: +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not; but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case. +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honourable father to my foe +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul +But ere I last received the sacrament +I did confess it, and exactly begg'd +Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. +This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd, +It issues from the rancour of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor +Which in myself I boldly will defend; +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +To prove myself a loyal gentleman +Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. +In haste whereof, most heartily I pray +Your highness to assign our trial day. + +KING RICHARD II +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me; +Let's purge this choler without letting blood: +This we prescribe, though no physician; +Deep malice makes too deep incision; +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age: +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD II +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: +The one my duty owes; but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD II +Rage must be withstood: +Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame. +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation: that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: +Take honour from me, and my life is done: +Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; +In that I live and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear, +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. + +Exit JOHN OF GAUNT + +KING RICHARD II +We were not born to sue, but to command; +Which since we cannot do to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day: +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate: +Since we can not atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry. +Lord marshal, command our officers at arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS +JOHN OF GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, +To stir against the butchers of his life! +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; +Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, +Or seven fair branches springing from one root: +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb, +That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death, +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair: +In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: +That which in mean men we intitle patience +Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully, +Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where then, alas, may I complain myself? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defence. + +DUCHESS +Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight: +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or, if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, +They may break his foaming courser's back, +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife +With her companion grief must end her life. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry: +As much good stay with thee as go with me! + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all:--nay, yet depart not so; +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there, +To seek out sorrow that dwells every where. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die: +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The lists at Coventry. + +Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE +Lord Marshal +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. + +Lord Marshal +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay +For nothing but his majesty's approach. + +The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms: +Ask him his name and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +In God's name and the king's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel: +Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; +As so defend thee heaven and thy valour! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk; +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me +And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me: +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armour, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby +Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, +To God of heaven, King Richard and to me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +Lord Marshal +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, +And bow my knee before his majesty: +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +Lord Marshal +The appellant in all duty greets your highness, +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD II +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight! +Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, +Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O let no noble eye profane a tear +For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you; +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: +O thou, the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, +Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, +And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous! +Be swift like lightning in the execution; +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just and upright gentleman: +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege, and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years: +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD II +Farewell, my lord: securely I espy +Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +Lord Marshal +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen. + +Lord Marshal +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. + +First Herald +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king and him; +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +Second Herald +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +Lord Marshal +Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. + +A charge sounded + +Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD II +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again: +Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. + +A long flourish + +Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; +Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood, +Therefore, we banish you our territories: +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done: this must my comfort be, +Sun that warms you here shall shine on me; +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile; +The hopeless word of 'never to return' +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your highness' hands. +The language I have learn'd these forty years, +My native English, now I must forego: +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony: +Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, +Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my gaoler to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now: +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? + +KING RICHARD II +It boots thee not to be compassionate: +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. + +KING RICHARD II +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God! +Embrace each other's love in banishment; +Nor never look upon each other's face; +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I swear. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +And I, to keep all this. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:-- +By this time, had the king permitted us, +One of our souls had wander'd in the air. +Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banish'd as from hence! +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know; +And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banish'd years +Pluck'd four away. + +To HENRY BOLINGBROKE + +Six frozen winter spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word: such is the breath of kings. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I thank my liege, that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile: +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times about +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD II +Why uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD II +Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge; but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. +Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, +I was too strict to make mine own away; +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so: +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +Lord Marshal +My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +What is six winters? they are quickly gone. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus; +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the king did banish thee, +But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit, +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour +And not the king exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime: +Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O, no! the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way: +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; +My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The court. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, with BAGOT and GREEN at one door; and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another +KING RICHARD II +We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD II +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD II +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +'Farewell:' +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells; +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD II +He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green +Observed his courtship to the common people; +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' +As were our England in reversion his, +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD II +We will ourself in person to this war: +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are inforced to farm our royal realm; +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand: if that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants; +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +Enter BUSHY + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste +To entreat your majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD II +Where lies he? + +BUSHY +At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD II +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: +Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! + +All +Amen. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Ely House. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT sick, with the DUKE OF YORK, & c +JOHN OF GAUNT +Will the king come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +DUKE OF YORK +Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony: +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. +He that no more must say is listen'd more +Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; +More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before: +The setting sun, and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past: +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +DUKE OF YORK +No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, +Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose: +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder: +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall, +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home, +For Christian service and true chivalry, +As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, +Like to a tenement or pelting farm: +England, bound in with the triumphant sea +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: +That England, that was wont to conquer others, +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +Enter KING RICHARD II and QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, LORD ROSS, and LORD WILLOUGHBY + +DUKE OF YORK +The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; +For young hot colts being raged do rage the more. + +QUEEN +How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD II +What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, +Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks; +And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. + +KING RICHARD II +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself: +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD II +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD II +Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD II +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; +Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. +Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee: +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; +And yet, incaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd, +Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king: +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou-- + +KING RICHARD II +A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son; +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused: +My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls! +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood: +Join with the present sickness that I have; +And thy unkindness be like crooked age, +To crop at once a too long wither'd flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be! +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: +Love they to live that love and honour have. + +Exit, borne off by his Attendants + +KING RICHARD II +And let them die that age and sullens have; +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +DUKE OF YORK +I do beseech your majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him: +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD II +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. + +KING RICHARD II +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, nothing; all is said +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +DUKE OF YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD II +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, corn, revenues and moveables, +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. + +DUKE OF YORK +How long shall I be patient? ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment +Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, +Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours; +But when he frown'd, it was against the French +And not against his friends; his noble hand +Did will what he did spend and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won; +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD II +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +DUKE OF YORK +O my liege, +Pardon me, if you please; if n ot, I, pleased +Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patent that he hath +By his attorneys-general to sue +His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts +And prick my tender patience, to those thoughts +Which honour and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD II +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money and his lands. + +DUKE OF YORK +I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: +What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight: +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. To-morrow next +We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow: +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York lord governor of England; +For he is just and always loved us well. +Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part; +Be merry, for our time of stay is short + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II, QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, and BAGOT + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +LORD ROSS +And living too; for now his son is duke. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +LORD ROSS +My heart is great; but it must break with silence, +Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man; +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +LORD ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him; +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many moe +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The king is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform, +Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, +That will the king severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +LORD ROSS +The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: +But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows: +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +LORD ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +LORD ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +LORD ROSS +We see the very wreck that we must suffer; +And unavoided is the danger now, +For suffering so the causes of our wreck. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +LORD ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland: +We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, +Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay +In Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint, +All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the king for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh; +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +LORD ROSS +To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT +BUSHY +Madam, your majesty is too much sad: +You promised, when you parted with the king, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the king I did; to please myself +I cannot do it; yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks, +Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves, +More than with parting from my lord the king. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, +Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; +For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects; +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail; +Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen; +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so; but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad +As, though on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief; mine is not so, +For nothing had begot my something grief; +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: +'Tis in reversion that I do possess; +But what it is, that is not yet known; what +I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. + +Enter GREEN + +GREEN +God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: +I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is; +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power, +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land: +The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN +Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, +And all the household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN +Who shall hinder me? +I will despair, and be at enmity +With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +Enter DUKE OF YORK + +GREEN +Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck: +O, full of careful business are his looks! +Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. + +DUKE OF YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: +Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off, +Whilst others come to make him lose at home: +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +DUKE OF YORK +He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! +The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: +Hold, take my ring. + +Servant +My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, +To-day, as I came by, I called there; +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +DUKE OF YORK +What is't, knave? + +Servant +An hour before I came, the duchess died. + +DUKE OF YORK +God for his mercy! what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do: I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The king had cut off my head with my brother's. +What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars? +Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me. +Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts +And bring away the armour that is there. + +Exit Servant + +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen: +The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; the other again +Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll +Dispose of you. +Gentlemen, go, muster up your men, +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too; +But time will not permit: all is uneven, +And every thing is left at six and seven. + +Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the king in love +Is near the hate of those love not the king. + +BAGOT +And that's the wavering commons: for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. + +BAGOT +If judgement lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the king. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle: +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you; for little office +The hateful commons will perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No; I will to Ireland to his majesty. +Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, +We three here art that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes +Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry: +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +The Life and Death of Richard the Third +Shakespeare homepage | Richard III | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, solus +GLOUCESTER +Now is the winter of our discontent +Made glorious summer by this sun of York; +And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house +In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. +Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; +Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; +Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, +Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. +Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; +And now, instead of mounting barded steeds +To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, +He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber +To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. +But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, +Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; +I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty +To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; +I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, +Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, +Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time +Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, +And that so lamely and unfashionable +That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; +Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, +Have no delight to pass away the time, +Unless to spy my shadow in the sun +And descant on mine own deformity: +And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, +To entertain these fair well-spoken days, +I am determined to prove a villain +And hate the idle pleasures of these days. +Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, +By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams, +To set my brother Clarence and the king +In deadly hate the one against the other: +And if King Edward be as true and just +As I am subtle, false and treacherous, +This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, +About a prophecy, which says that 'G' +Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. +Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here +Clarence comes. + +Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY + +Brother, good day; what means this armed guard +That waits upon your grace? + +CLARENCE +His majesty +Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed +This conduct to convey me to the Tower. + +GLOUCESTER +Upon what cause? + +CLARENCE +Because my name is George. + +GLOUCESTER +Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; +He should, for that, commit your godfathers: +O, belike his majesty hath some intent +That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower. +But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? + +CLARENCE +Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest +As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, +He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; +And from the cross-row plucks the letter G. +And says a wizard told him that by G +His issue disinherited should be; +And, for my name of George begins with G, +It follows in his thought that I am he. +These, as I learn, and such like toys as these +Have moved his highness to commit me now. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women: +'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower: +My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she +That tempers him to this extremity. +Was it not she and that good man of worship, +Anthony Woodville, her brother there, +That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, +From whence this present day he is deliver'd? +We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I think there's no man is secure +But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds +That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. +Heard ye not what an humble suppliant +Lord hastings was to her for his delivery? + +GLOUCESTER +Humbly complaining to her deity +Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. +I'll tell you what; I think it is our way, +If we will keep in favour with the king, +To be her men and wear her livery: +The jealous o'erworn widow and herself, +Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen. +Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your graces both to pardon me; +His majesty hath straitly given in charge +That no man shall have private conference, +Of what degree soever, with his brother. + +GLOUCESTER +Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, +You may partake of any thing we say: +We speak no treason, man: we say the king +Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen +Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; +We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, +A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; +And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks: +How say you sir? Can you deny all this? + +BRAKENBURY +With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. + +GLOUCESTER +Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow, +He that doth naught with her, excepting one, +Were best he do it secretly, alone. + +BRAKENBURY +What one, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me? + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal +Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + +CLARENCE +We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. + +GLOUCESTER +We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. +Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; +And whatsoever you will employ me in, +Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, +I will perform it to enfranchise you. +Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood +Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + +CLARENCE +I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; +Meantime, have patience. + +CLARENCE +I must perforce. Farewell. + +Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard + +GLOUCESTER +Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. +Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, +That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, +If heaven will take the present at our hands. +But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? + +Enter HASTINGS + +HASTINGS +Good time of day unto my gracious lord! + +GLOUCESTER +As much unto my good lord chamberlain! +Well are you welcome to the open air. +How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? + +HASTINGS +With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: +But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks +That were the cause of my imprisonment. + +GLOUCESTER +No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; +For they that were your enemies are his, +And have prevail'd as much on him as you. + +HASTINGS +More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, +While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +What news abroad? + +HASTINGS +No news so bad abroad as this at home; +The King is sickly, weak and melancholy, +And his physicians fear him mightily. + +GLOUCESTER +Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. +O, he hath kept an evil diet long, +And overmuch consumed his royal person: +'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. +What, is he in his bed? + +HASTINGS +He is. + +GLOUCESTER +Go you before, and I will follow you. + +Exit HASTINGS + +He cannot live, I hope; and must not die +Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven. +I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, +With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; +And, if I fall not in my deep intent, +Clarence hath not another day to live: +Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, +And leave the world for me to bustle in! +For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. +What though I kill'd her husband and her father? +The readiest way to make the wench amends +Is to become her husband and her father: +The which will I; not all so much for love +As for another secret close intent, +By marrying her which I must reach unto. +But yet I run before my horse to market: +Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: +When they are gone, then must I count my gains. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. Another street. + +Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner +LADY ANNE +Set down, set down your honourable load, +If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, +Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament +The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. +Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! +Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! +Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! +Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, +To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne, +Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, +Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! +Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, +I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. +Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! +Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it! +Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! +More direful hap betide that hated wretch, +That makes us wretched by the death of thee, +Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, +Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! +If ever he have child, abortive be it, +Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, +Whose ugly and unnatural aspect +May fright the hopeful mother at the view; +And that be heir to his unhappiness! +If ever he have wife, let her he made +A miserable by the death of him +As I am made by my poor lord and thee! +Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, +Taken from Paul's to be interred there; +And still, as you are weary of the weight, +Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + +LADY ANNE +What black magician conjures up this fiend, +To stop devoted charitable deeds? + +GLOUCESTER +Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, +I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. + +Gentleman +My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. + +GLOUCESTER +Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: +Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, +Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, +And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. + +LADY ANNE +What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? +Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, +And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. +Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! +Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, +His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone. + +GLOUCESTER +Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + +LADY ANNE +Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; +For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, +Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. +If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, +Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. +O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds +Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! +Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity; +For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood +From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; +Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, +Provokes this deluge most unnatural. +O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death! +O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death! +Either heaven with lightning strike the +murderer dead, +Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, +As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood +Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! + +GLOUCESTER +Lady, you know no rules of charity, +Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + +LADY ANNE +Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: +No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + +GLOUCESTER +But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + +LADY ANNE +O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + +GLOUCESTER +More wonderful, when angels are so angry. +Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, +Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, +By circumstance, but to acquit myself. + +LADY ANNE +Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man, +For these known evils, but to give me leave, +By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. + +GLOUCESTER +Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have +Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make +No excuse current, but to hang thyself. + +GLOUCESTER +By such despair, I should accuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; +For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, +Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + +GLOUCESTER +Say that I slew them not? + +LADY ANNE +Why, then they are not dead: +But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee. + +GLOUCESTER +I did not kill your husband. + +LADY ANNE +Why, then he is alive. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. + +LADY ANNE +In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw +Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; +The which thou once didst bend against her breast, +But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + +GLOUCESTER +I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, +which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + +LADY ANNE +Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. +Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries: +Didst thou not kill this king? + +GLOUCESTER +I grant ye. + +LADY ANNE +Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too +Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! +O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! + +GLOUCESTER +The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. + +LADY ANNE +He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; +For he was fitter for that place than earth. + +LADY ANNE +And thou unfit for any place but hell. + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + +LADY ANNE +Some dungeon. + +GLOUCESTER +Your bed-chamber. + +LADY ANNE +I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + +GLOUCESTER +So will it, madam till I lie with you. + +LADY ANNE +I hope so. + +GLOUCESTER +I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, +To leave this keen encounter of our wits, +And fall somewhat into a slower method, +Is not the causer of the timeless deaths +Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, +As blameful as the executioner? + +LADY ANNE +Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. + +GLOUCESTER +Your beauty was the cause of that effect; +Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep +To undertake the death of all the world, +So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + +LADY ANNE +If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, +These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. + +GLOUCESTER +These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck; +You should not blemish it, if I stood by: +As all the world is cheered by the sun, +So I by that; it is my day, my life. + +LADY ANNE +Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! + +GLOUCESTER +Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both. + +LADY ANNE +I would I were, to be revenged on thee. + +GLOUCESTER +It is a quarrel most unnatural, +To be revenged on him that loveth you. + +LADY ANNE +It is a quarrel just and reasonable, +To be revenged on him that slew my husband. + +GLOUCESTER +He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, +Did it to help thee to a better husband. + +LADY ANNE +His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + +GLOUCESTER +He lives that loves thee better than he could. + +LADY ANNE +Name him. + +GLOUCESTER +Plantagenet. + +LADY ANNE +Why, that was he. + +GLOUCESTER +The selfsame name, but one of better nature. + +LADY ANNE +Where is he? + +GLOUCESTER +Here. + +She spitteth at him + +Why dost thou spit at me? + +LADY ANNE +Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! + +GLOUCESTER +Never came poison from so sweet a place. + +LADY ANNE +Never hung poison on a fouler toad. +Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. + +GLOUCESTER +Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + +LADY ANNE +Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! + +GLOUCESTER +I would they were, that I might die at once; +For now they kill me with a living death. +Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, +Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops: +These eyes that never shed remorseful tear, +No, when my father York and Edward wept, +To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made +When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; +Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, +Told the sad story of my father's death, +And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, +That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks +Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time +My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; +And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, +Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. +I never sued to friend nor enemy; +My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; +But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, +My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. + +She looks scornfully at him + +Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made +For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. +If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, +Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; +Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom. +And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, +I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, +And humbly beg the death upon my knee. + +He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword + +Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry, +But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. +Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward, +But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. + +Here she lets fall the sword + +Take up the sword again, or take up me. + +LADY ANNE +Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, +I will not be the executioner. + +GLOUCESTER +Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + +LADY ANNE +I have already. + +GLOUCESTER +Tush, that was in thy rage: +Speak it again, and, even with the word, +That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, +Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; +To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. + +LADY ANNE +I would I knew thy heart. + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis figured in my tongue. + +LADY ANNE +I fear me both are false. + +GLOUCESTER +Then never man was true. + +LADY ANNE +Well, well, put up your sword. + +GLOUCESTER +Say, then, my peace is made. + +LADY ANNE +That shall you know hereafter. + +GLOUCESTER +But shall I live in hope? + +LADY ANNE +All men, I hope, live so. + +GLOUCESTER +Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + +LADY ANNE +To take is not to give. + +GLOUCESTER +Look, how this ring encompasseth finger. +Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; +Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. +And if thy poor devoted suppliant may +But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, +Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. + +LADY ANNE +What is it? + +GLOUCESTER +That it would please thee leave these sad designs +To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, +And presently repair to Crosby Place; +Where, after I have solemnly interr'd +At Chertsey monastery this noble king, +And wet his grave with my repentant tears, +I will with all expedient duty see you: +For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you, +Grant me this boon. + +LADY ANNE +With all my heart; and much it joys me too, +To see you are become so penitent. +Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + +GLOUCESTER +Bid me farewell. + +LADY ANNE +'Tis more than you deserve; +But since you teach me how to flatter you, +Imagine I have said farewell already. + +Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY + +GLOUCESTER +Sirs, take up the corse. + +GENTLEMEN +Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + +GLOUCESTER +No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? +Was ever woman in this humour won? +I'll have her; but I will not keep her long. +What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, +To take her in her heart's extremest hate, +With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, +The bleeding witness of her hatred by; +Having God, her conscience, and these bars +against me, +And I nothing to back my suit at all, +But the plain devil and dissembling looks, +And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! +Ha! +Hath she forgot already that brave prince, +Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, +Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? +A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, +Framed in the prodigality of nature, +Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, +The spacious world cannot again afford +And will she yet debase her eyes on me, +That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, +And made her widow to a woful bed? +On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? +On me, that halt and am unshapen thus? +My dukedom to a beggarly denier, +I do mistake my person all this while: +Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, +Myself to be a marvellous proper man. +I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, +And entertain some score or two of tailors, +To study fashions to adorn my body: +Since I am crept in favour with myself, +Will maintain it with some little cost. +But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave; +And then return lamenting to my love. +Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, +That I may see my shadow as I pass. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY +RIVERS +Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty +Will soon recover his accustom'd health. + +GREY +In that you brook it in, it makes him worse: +Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, +And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +If he were dead, what would betide of me? + +RIVERS +No other harm but loss of such a lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The loss of such a lord includes all harm. + +GREY +The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, +To be your comforter when he is gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, he is young and his minority +Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, +A man that loves not me, nor none of you. + +RIVERS +Is it concluded that he shall be protector? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +It is determined, not concluded yet: +But so it must be, if the king miscarry. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY + +GREY +Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby. + +BUCKINGHAM +Good time of day unto your royal grace! + +DERBY +God make your majesty joyful as you have been! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby. +To your good prayers will scarcely say amen. +Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife, +And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured +I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + +DERBY +I do beseech you, either not believe +The envious slanders of her false accusers; +Or, if she be accused in true report, +Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds +From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. + +RIVERS +Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby? + +DERBY +But now the Duke of Buckingham and I +Are come from visiting his majesty. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What likelihood of his amendment, lords? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +God grant him health! Did you confer with him? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement +Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, +And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; +And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Would all were well! but that will never be +I fear our happiness is at the highest. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET + +GLOUCESTER +They do me wrong, and I will not endure it: +Who are they that complain unto the king, +That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? +By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly +That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. +Because I cannot flatter and speak fair, +Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog, +Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, +I must be held a rancorous enemy. +Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, +But thus his simple truth must be abused +By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + +RIVERS +To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? + +GLOUCESTER +To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. +When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong? +Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction? +A plague upon you all! His royal person,-- +Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-- +Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while, +But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. +The king, of his own royal disposition, +And not provoked by any suitor else; +Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, +Which in your outward actions shows itself +Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, +Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather +The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad, +That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch: +Since every Jack became a gentleman +There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Come, come, we know your meaning, brother +Gloucester; +You envy my advancement and my friends': +God grant we never may have need of you! + +GLOUCESTER +Meantime, God grants that we have need of you: +Your brother is imprison'd by your means, +Myself disgraced, and the nobility +Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions +Are daily given to ennoble those +That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +By Him that raised me to this careful height +From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, +I never did incense his majesty +Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been +An earnest advocate to plead for him. +My lord, you do me shameful injury, +Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + +GLOUCESTER +You may deny that you were not the cause +Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + +RIVERS +She may, my lord, for-- + +GLOUCESTER +She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so? +She may do more, sir, than denying that: +She may help you to many fair preferments, +And then deny her aiding hand therein, +And lay those honours on your high deserts. +What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she-- + +RIVERS +What, marry, may she? + +GLOUCESTER +What, marry, may she! marry with a king, +A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: +I wis your grandam had a worser match. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne +Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs: +By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty +With those gross taunts I often have endured. +I had rather be a country servant-maid +Than a great queen, with this condition, +To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at: + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind + +Small joy have I in being England's queen. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! +Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. + +GLOUCESTER +What! threat you me with telling of the king? +Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said +I will avouch in presence of the king: +I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. +'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Out, devil! I remember them too well: +Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower, +And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. + +GLOUCESTER +Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king, +I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; +A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, +A liberal rewarder of his friends: +To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Yea, and much better blood than his or thine. + +GLOUCESTER +In all which time you and your husband Grey +Were factious for the house of Lancaster; +And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband +In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? +Let me put in your minds, if you forget, +What you have been ere now, and what you are; +Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A murderous villain, and so still thou art. + +GLOUCESTER +Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick; +Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!-- + +QUEEN MARGARET +Which God revenge! + +GLOUCESTER +To fight on Edward's party for the crown; +And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. +I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's; +Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine +I am too childish-foolish for this world. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, +Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. + +RIVERS +My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days +Which here you urge to prove us enemies, +We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king: +So should we you, if you should be our king. + +GLOUCESTER +If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar: +Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As little joy, my lord, as you suppose +You should enjoy, were you this country's king, +As little joy may you suppose in me. +That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; +For I am she, and altogether joyless. +I can no longer hold me patient. + +Advancing + +Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out +In sharing that which you have pill'd from me! +Which of you trembles not that looks on me? +If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, +Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels? +O gentle villain, do not turn away! + +GLOUCESTER +Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; +That will I make before I let thee go. + +GLOUCESTER +Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I was; but I do find more pain in banishment +Than death can yield me here by my abode. +A husband and a son thou owest to me; +And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance: +The sorrow that I have, by right is yours, +And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + +GLOUCESTER +The curse my noble father laid on thee, +When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper +And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, +And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout +Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-- +His curses, then from bitterness of soul +Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; +And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +So just is God, to right the innocent. + +HASTINGS +O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, +And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + +RIVERS +Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + +DORSET +No man but prophesied revenge for it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What were you snarling all before I came, +Ready to catch each other by the throat, +And turn you all your hatred now on me? +Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven? +That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, +Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, +Could all but answer for that peevish brat? +Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? +Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! +If not by war, by surfeit die your king, +As ours by murder, to make him a king! +Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, +For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales, +Die in his youth by like untimely violence! +Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, +Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! +Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss; +And see another, as I see thee now, +Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! +Long die thy happy days before thy death; +And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, +Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen! +Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by, +And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son +Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, +That none of you may live your natural age, +But by some unlook'd accident cut off! + +GLOUCESTER +Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! + +QUEEN MARGARET +And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. +If heaven have any grievous plague in store +Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, +O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, +And then hurl down their indignation +On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! +The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! +Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, +And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! +No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, +Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream +Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! +Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! +Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity +The slave of nature and the son of hell! +Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! +Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! +Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- + +GLOUCESTER +Margaret. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Richard! + +GLOUCESTER +Ha! + +QUEEN MARGARET +I call thee not. + +GLOUCESTER +I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought +That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. +O, let me make the period to my curse! + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.' + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune! +Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, +Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? +Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. +The time will come when thou shalt wish for me +To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad. + +HASTINGS +False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, +Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine. + +RIVERS +Were you well served, you would be taught your duty. + +QUEEN MARGARET +To serve me well, you all should do me duty, +Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: +O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + +DORSET +Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, master marquess, you are malapert: +Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. +O, that your young nobility could judge +What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! +They that stand high have many blasts to shake them; +And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. + +GLOUCESTER +Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess. + +DORSET +It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me. + +GLOUCESTER +Yea, and much more: but I was born so high, +Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, +And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas! +Witness my son, now in the shade of death; +Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath +Hath in eternal darkness folded up. +Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. +O God, that seest it, do not suffer it! +As it was won with blood, lost be it so! + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done! for shame, if not for charity. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Urge neither charity nor shame to me: +Uncharitably with me have you dealt, +And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. +My charity is outrage, life my shame +And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage. + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done, have done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand, +In sign of league and amity with thee: +Now fair befal thee and thy noble house! +Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, +Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nor no one here; for curses never pass +The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, +And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. +O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! +Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, +His venom tooth will rankle to the death: +Have not to do with him, beware of him; +Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, +And all their ministers attend on him. + +GLOUCESTER +What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? +And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? +O, but remember this another day, +When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, +And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! +Live each of you the subjects to his hate, +And he to yours, and all of you to God's! + +Exit + +HASTINGS +My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. + +RIVERS +And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, +She hath had too much wrong; and I repent +My part thereof that I have done to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I never did her any, to my knowledge. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have all the vantage of her wrong. +I was too hot to do somebody good, +That is too cold in thinking of it now. +Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid, +He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains +God pardon them that are the cause of it! + +RIVERS +A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, +To pray for them that have done scathe to us. + +GLOUCESTER +So do I ever: + +Aside + +being well-advised. +For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. + +Enter CATESBY + +CATESBY +Madam, his majesty doth call for you, +And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? + +RIVERS +Madam, we will attend your grace. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. +The secret mischiefs that I set abroach +I lay unto the grievous charge of others. +Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, +I do beweep to many simple gulls +Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham; +And say it is the queen and her allies +That stir the king against the duke my brother. +Now, they believe it; and withal whet me +To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: +But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, +Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: +And thus I clothe my naked villany +With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; +And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. + +Enter two Murderers + +But, soft! here come my executioners. +How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! +Are you now going to dispatch this deed? + +First Murderer +We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant +That we may be admitted where he is. + +GLOUCESTER +Well thought upon; I have it here about me. + +Gives the warrant + +When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. +But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, +Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; +For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps +May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. + +First Murderer +Tush! +Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; +Talkers are no good doers: be assured +We come to use our hands and not our tongues. + +GLOUCESTER +Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears: +I like you, lads; about your business straight; +Go, go, dispatch. + +First Murderer +We will, my noble lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Tower. + +Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY +BRAKENBURY +Why looks your grace so heavily today? + +CLARENCE +O, I have pass'd a miserable night, +So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, +That, as I am a Christian faithful man, +I would not spend another such a night, +Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, +So full of dismal terror was the time! + +BRAKENBURY +What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower, +And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; +And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; +Who from my cabin tempted me to walk +Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England, +And cited up a thousand fearful times, +During the wars of York and Lancaster +That had befall'n us. As we paced along +Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, +Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling, +Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, +Into the tumbling billows of the main. +Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! +What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! +What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! +Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; +Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; +Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, +Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, +All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: +Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes +Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, +As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, +Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, +And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. + +BRAKENBURY +Had you such leisure in the time of death +To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? + +CLARENCE +Methought I had; and often did I strive +To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood +Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth +To seek the empty, vast and wandering air; +But smother'd it within my panting bulk, +Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. + +BRAKENBURY +Awaked you not with this sore agony? + +CLARENCE +O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; +O, then began the tempest to my soul, +Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, +With that grim ferryman which poets write of, +Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. +The first that there did greet my stranger soul, +Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; +Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury +Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' +And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by +A shadow like an angel, with bright hair +Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud, +'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, +That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; +Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!' +With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends +Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears +Such hideous cries, that with the very noise +I trembling waked, and for a season after +Could not believe but that I was in hell, +Such terrible impression made the dream. + +BRAKENBURY +No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you; +I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +O Brakenbury, I have done those things, +Which now bear evidence against my soul, +For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me! +O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, +But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, +Yet execute thy wrath in me alone, +O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! +I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; +My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + +BRAKENBURY +I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! + +CLARENCE sleeps + +Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, +Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. +Princes have but their tides for their glories, +An outward honour for an inward toil; +And, for unfelt imagination, +They often feel a world of restless cares: +So that, betwixt their tides and low names, +There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + +Enter the two Murderers + +First Murderer +Ho! who's here? + +BRAKENBURY +In God's name what are you, and how came you hither? + +First Murderer +I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. + +BRAKENBURY +Yea, are you so brief? + +Second Murderer +O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show +him our commission; talk no more. + +BRAKENBURY reads it + +BRAKENBURY +I am, in this, commanded to deliver +The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: +I will not reason what is meant hereby, +Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. +Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep: +I'll to the king; and signify to him +That thus I have resign'd my charge to you. + +First Murderer +Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. + +Exit BRAKENBURY + +Second Murderer +What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? + +First Murderer +No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. + +Second Murderer +When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till +the judgment-day. + +First Murderer +Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping. + +Second Murderer +The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind +of remorse in me. + +First Murderer +What, art thou afraid? + +Second Murderer +Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be +damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us. + +First Murderer +I thought thou hadst been resolute. + +Second Murderer +So I am, to let him live. + +First Murderer +Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so. + +Second Murderer +I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour +will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one +would tell twenty. + +First Murderer +How dost thou feel thyself now? + +Second Murderer +'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet +within me. + +First Murderer +Remember our reward, when the deed is done. + +Second Murderer +'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward. + +First Murderer +Where is thy conscience now? + +Second Murderer +In the Duke of Gloucester's purse. + +First Murderer +So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, +thy conscience flies out. + +Second Murderer +Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it. + +First Murderer +How if it come to thee again? + +Second Murderer +I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it +makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it +accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him; +he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it +detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that +mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of +obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold +that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it +is turned out of all towns and cities for a +dangerous thing; and every man that means to live +well endeavours to trust to himself and to live +without it. + +First Murderer +'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me +not to kill the duke. + +Second Murderer +Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he +would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. + +First Murderer +Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me, +I warrant thee. + +Second Murderer +Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his +reputation. Come, shall we to this gear? + +First Murderer +Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy +sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt +in the next room. + +Second Murderer +O excellent devise! make a sop of him. + +First Murderer +Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? + +Second Murderer +No, first let's reason with him. + +CLARENCE +Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. + +Second murderer +You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. + +CLARENCE +In God's name, what art thou? + +Second Murderer +A man, as you are. + +CLARENCE +But not, as I am, royal. + +Second Murderer +Nor you, as we are, loyal. + +CLARENCE +Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + +Second Murderer +My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. + +CLARENCE +How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! +Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? +Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + +Both +To, to, to-- + +CLARENCE +To murder me? + +Both +Ay, ay. + +CLARENCE +You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, +And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. +Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + +First Murderer +Offended us you have not, but the king. + +CLARENCE +I shall be reconciled to him again. + +Second Murderer +Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. + +CLARENCE +Are you call'd forth from out a world of men +To slay the innocent? What is my offence? +Where are the evidence that do accuse me? +What lawful quest have given their verdict up +Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced +The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? +Before I be convict by course of law, +To threaten me with death is most unlawful. +I charge you, as you hope to have redemption +By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, +That you depart and lay no hands on me +The deed you undertake is damnable. + +First Murderer +What we will do, we do upon command. + +Second Murderer +And he that hath commanded is the king. + +CLARENCE +Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings +Hath in the tables of his law commanded +That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then, +Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's? +Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands, +To hurl upon their heads that break his law. + +Second Murderer +And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, +For false forswearing and for murder too: +Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, +To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. + +First Murderer +And, like a traitor to the name of God, +Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade +Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. + +Second Murderer +Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. + +First Murderer +How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, +When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? + +CLARENCE +Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? +For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs, +He sends ye not to murder me for this +For in this sin he is as deep as I. +If God will be revenged for this deed. +O, know you yet, he doth it publicly, +Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm; +He needs no indirect nor lawless course +To cut off those that have offended him. + +First Murderer +Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, +When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, +That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + +CLARENCE +My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + +First Murderer +Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, +Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me; +I am his brother, and I love him well. +If you be hired for meed, go back again, +And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, +Who shall reward you better for my life +Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + +Second Murderer +You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. + +CLARENCE +O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: +Go you to him from me. + +Both +Ay, so we will. + +CLARENCE +Tell him, when that our princely father York +Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, +And charged us from his soul to love each other, +He little thought of this divided friendship: +Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + +First Murderer +Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep. + +CLARENCE +O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + +First Murderer +Right, +As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself: +'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +It cannot be; for when I parted with him, +He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, +That he would labour my delivery. + +Second Murderer +Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee +From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven. + +First Murderer +Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. + +CLARENCE +Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, +To counsel me to make my peace with God, +And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, +That thou wilt war with God by murdering me? +Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on +To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + +Second Murderer +What shall we do? + +CLARENCE +Relent, and save your souls. + +First Murderer +Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish. + +CLARENCE +Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. +Which of you, if you were a prince's son, +Being pent from liberty, as I am now, +if two such murderers as yourselves came to you, +Would not entreat for life? +My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks: +O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, +Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, +As you would beg, were you in my distress +A begging prince what beggar pities not? + +Second Murderer +Look behind you, my lord. + +First Murderer +Take that, and that: if all this will not do, + +Stabs him + +I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. + +Exit, with the body + +Second Murderer +A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd! +How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands +Of this most grievous guilty murder done! + +Re-enter First Murderer + +First Murderer +How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? +By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art! + +Second Murderer +I would he knew that I had saved his brother! +Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; +For I repent me that the duke is slain. + +Exit + +First Murderer +So do not I: go, coward as thou art. +Now must I hide his body in some hole, +Until the duke take order for his burial: +And when I have my meed, I must away; +For this will out, and here I must not stay. + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others +KING EDWARD IV +Why, so: now have I done a good day's work: +You peers, continue this united league: +I every day expect an embassage +From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; +And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven, +Since I have set my friends at peace on earth. +Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand; +Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. + +RIVERS +By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate: +And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + +HASTINGS +So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! + +KING EDWARD IV +Take heed you dally not before your king; +Lest he that is the supreme King of kings +Confound your hidden falsehood, and award +Either of you to be the other's end. + +HASTINGS +So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! + +RIVERS +And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! + +KING EDWARD IV +Madam, yourself are not exempt in this, +Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you; +You have been factious one against the other, +Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; +And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Here, Hastings; I will never more remember +Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine! + +KING EDWARD IV +Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess. + +DORSET +This interchange of love, I here protest, +Upon my part shall be unviolable. + +HASTINGS +And so swear I, my lord + +They embrace + +KING EDWARD IV +Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league +With thy embracements to my wife's allies, +And make me happy in your unity. + +BUCKINGHAM +Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate +On you or yours, + +To the Queen + +but with all duteous love +Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me +With hate in those where I expect most love! +When I have most need to employ a friend, +And most assured that he is a friend +Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, +Be he unto me! this do I beg of God, +When I am cold in zeal to yours. + +KING EDWARD IV +A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, +is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. +There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here, +To make the perfect period of this peace. + +BUCKINGHAM +And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen: +And, princely peers, a happy time of day! + +KING EDWARD IV +Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. +Brother, we done deeds of charity; +Made peace enmity, fair love of hate, +Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. + +GLOUCESTER +A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege: +Amongst this princely heap, if any here, +By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, +Hold me a foe; +If I unwittingly, or in my rage, +Have aught committed that is hardly borne +By any in this presence, I desire +To reconcile me to his friendly peace: +'Tis death to me to be at enmity; +I hate it, and desire all good men's love. +First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, +Which I will purchase with my duteous service; +Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, +If ever any grudge were lodged between us; +Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you; +That without desert have frown'd on me; +Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. +I do not know that Englishman alive +With whom my soul is any jot at odds +More than the infant that is born to-night +I thank my God for my humility. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A holy day shall this be kept hereafter: +I would to God all strifes were well compounded. +My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty +To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this +To be so bouted in this royal presence? +Who knows not that the noble duke is dead? + +They all start + +You do him injury to scorn his corse. + +RIVERS +Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +All seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +BUCKINGHAM +Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +DORSET +Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence +But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. + +KING EDWARD IV +Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed. + +GLOUCESTER +But he, poor soul, by your first order died, +And that a winged Mercury did bear: +Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, +That came too lag to see him buried. +God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, +Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, +Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, +And yet go current from suspicion! + +Enter DERBY + +DORSET +A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! + +KING EDWARD IV +I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. + +DORSET +I will not rise, unless your highness grant. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st. + +DORSET +The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; +Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman +Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + +KING EDWARD IV +Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, +And shall the same give pardon to a slave? +My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, +And yet his punishment was cruel death. +Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, +Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised +Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? +Who told me how the poor soul did forsake +The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? +Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury +When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, +And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? +Who told me, when we both lay in the field +Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me +Even in his own garments, and gave himself, +All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? +All this from my remembrance brutish wrath +Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you +Had so much grace to put it in my mind. +But when your carters or your waiting-vassals +Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced +The precious image of our dear Redeemer, +You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; +And I unjustly too, must grant it you +But for my brother not a man would speak, +Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself +For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all +Have been beholding to him in his life; +Yet none of you would once plead for his life. +O God, I fear thy justice will take hold +On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! +Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. +Oh, poor Clarence! + +Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET + +GLOUCESTER +This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not +How that the guilty kindred of the queen +Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? +O, they did urge it still unto the king! +God will revenge it. But come, let us in, +To comfort Edward with our company. + +BUCKINGHAM +We wait upon your grace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE +Boy +Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +No, boy. + +Boy +Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast, +And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!' + +Girl +Why do you look on us, and shake your head, +And call us wretches, orphans, castaways +If that our noble father be alive? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; +I do lament the sickness of the king. +As loath to lose him, not your father's death; +It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + +Boy +Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. +The king my uncle is to blame for this: +God will revenge it; whom I will importune +With daily prayers all to that effect. + +Girl +And so will I. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: +Incapable and shallow innocents, +You cannot guess who caused your father's death. + +Boy +Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester +Told me, the king, provoked by the queen, +Devised impeachments to imprison him : +And when my uncle told me so, he wept, +And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; +Bade me rely on him as on my father, +And he would love me dearly as his child. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, +And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile! +He is my son; yea, and therein my shame; +Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + +Boy +Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ay, boy. + +Boy +I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, +To chide my fortune, and torment myself? +I'll join with black despair against my soul, +And to myself become an enemy. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What means this scene of rude impatience? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To make an act of tragic violence: +Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead. +Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd? +Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone? +If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, +That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; +Or, like obedient subjects, follow him +To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow +As I had title in thy noble husband! +I have bewept a worthy husband's death, +And lived by looking on his images: +But now two mirrors of his princely semblance +Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, +And I for comfort have but one false glass, +Which grieves me when I see my shame in him. +Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, +And hast the comfort of thy children left thee: +But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, +And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs, +Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I, +Thine being but a moiety of my grief, +To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries! + +Boy +Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death; +How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + +Girl +Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; +Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Give me no help in lamentation; +I am not barren to bring forth complaints +All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, +That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, +May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! +Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! + +Children +Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. + +Children +What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What stays had I but they? and they are gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Was never widow had so dear a loss! + +Children +Were never orphans had so dear a loss! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Was never mother had so dear a loss! +Alas, I am the mother of these moans! +Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. +She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; +I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: +These babes for Clarence weep and so do I; +I for an Edward weep, so do not they: +Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd, +Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, +And I will pamper it with lamentations. + +DORSET +Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased +That you take with unthankfulness, his doing: +In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful, +With dull unwilligness to repay a debt +Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; +Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, +For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + +RIVERS +Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, +Of the young prince your son: send straight for him +Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: +Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, +And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause +To wail the dimming of our shining star; +But none can cure their harms by wailing them. +Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; +I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee +I crave your blessing. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind, +Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man! +That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: +I marvel why her grace did leave it out. + +BUCKINGHAM +You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers, +That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, +Now cheer each other in each other's love +Though we have spent our harvest of this king, +We are to reap the harvest of his son. +The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts, +But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, +Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept: +Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, +Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd +Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. + +RIVERS +Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, +The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, +Which would be so much the more dangerous +By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd: +Where every horse bears his commanding rein, +And may direct his course as please himself, +As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, +In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + +GLOUCESTER +I hope the king made peace with all of us +And the compact is firm and true in me. + +RIVERS +And so in me; and so, I think, in all: +Yet, since it is but green, it should be put +To no apparent likelihood of breach, +Which haply by much company might be urged: +Therefore I say with noble Buckingham, +That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. + +HASTINGS +And so say I. + +GLOUCESTER +Then be it so; and go we to determine +Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. +Madam, and you, my mother, will you go +To give your censures in this weighty business? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH DUCHESS OF YORK +With all our harts. + +Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, +For God's sake, let not us two be behind; +For, by the way, I'll sort occasion, +As index to the story we late talk'd of, +To part the queen's proud kindred from the king. + +GLOUCESTER +My other self, my counsel's consistory, +My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin, +I, like a child, will go by thy direction. +Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. A street. + +Enter two Citizens meeting +First Citizen +Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast? + +Second Citizen +I promise you, I scarcely know myself: +Hear you the news abroad? + +First Citizen +Ay, that the king is dead. + +Second Citizen +Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: +I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world. + +Enter another Citizen + +Third Citizen +Neighbours, God speed! + +First Citizen +Give you good morrow, sir. + +Third Citizen +Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death? + +Second Citizen +Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! + +Third Citizen +Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. + +First Citizen +No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign. + +Third Citizen +Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child! + +Second Citizen +In him there is a hope of government, +That in his nonage council under him, +And in his full and ripen'd years himself, +No doubt, shall then and till then govern well. + +First Citizen +So stood the state when Henry the Sixth +Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. + +Third Citizen +Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot; +For then this land was famously enrich'd +With politic grave counsel; then the king +Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. + +The Tragedy of Coriolanus +Shakespeare homepage | Coriolanus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons +First Citizen +Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. + +All +Speak, speak. + +First Citizen +You are all resolved rather to die than to famish? + +All +Resolved. resolved. + +First Citizen +First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. + +All +We know't, we know't. + +First Citizen +Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. +Is't a verdict? + +All +No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away! + +Second Citizen +One word, good citizens. + +First Citizen +We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. +What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they +would yield us but the superfluity, while it were +wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; +but they think we are too dear: the leanness that +afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an +inventory to particularise their abundance; our +sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with +our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I +speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. + +Second Citizen +Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? + +All +Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty. + +Second Citizen +Consider you what services he has done for his country? + +First Citizen +Very well; and could be content to give him good +report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud. + +Second Citizen +Nay, but speak not maliciously. + +First Citizen +I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did +it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be +content to say it was for his country he did it to +please his mother and to be partly proud; which he +is, even till the altitude of his virtue. + +Second Citizen +What he cannot help in his nature, you account a +vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous. + +First Citizen +If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; +he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. + +Shouts within + +What shouts are these? The other side o' the city +is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol! + +All +Come, come. + +First Citizen +Soft! who comes here? + +Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA + +Second Citizen +Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved +the people. + +First Citizen +He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so! + +MENENIUS +What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you +With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you. + +First Citizen +Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have +had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, +which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor +suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we +have strong arms too. + +MENENIUS +Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, +Will you undo yourselves? + +First Citizen +We cannot, sir, we are undone already. + +MENENIUS +I tell you, friends, most charitable care +Have the patricians of you. For your wants, +Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well +Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them +Against the Roman state, whose course will on +The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs +Of more strong link asunder than can ever +Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, +The gods, not the patricians, make it, and +Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, +You are transported by calamity +Thither where more attends you, and you slander +The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers, +When you curse them as enemies. + +First Citizen +Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us +yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses +crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to +support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act +established against the rich, and provide more +piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain +the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and +there's all the love they bear us. + +MENENIUS +Either you must +Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, +Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you +A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; +But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture +To stale 't a little more. + +First Citizen +Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to +fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please +you, deliver. + +MENENIUS +There was a time when all the body's members +Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it: +That only like a gulf it did remain +I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive, +Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing +Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments +Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, +And, mutually participate, did minister +Unto the appetite and affection common +Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-- + +First Citizen +Well, sir, what answer made the belly? + +MENENIUS +Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile, +Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-- +For, look you, I may make the belly smile +As well as speak--it tauntingly replied +To the discontented members, the mutinous parts +That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +As you malign our senators for that +They are not such as you. + +First Citizen +Your belly's answer? What! +The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye, +The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, +Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter. +With other muniments and petty helps +In this our fabric, if that they-- + +MENENIUS +What then? +'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then? + +First Citizen +Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, +Who is the sink o' the body,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, what then? + +First Citizen +The former agents, if they did complain, +What could the belly answer? + +MENENIUS +I will tell you +If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little-- +Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer. + +First Citizen +Ye're long about it. + +MENENIUS +Note me this, good friend; +Your most grave belly was deliberate, +Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd: +'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he, +'That I receive the general food at first, +Which you do live upon; and fit it is, +Because I am the store-house and the shop +Of the whole body: but, if you do remember, +I send it through the rivers of your blood, +Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain; +And, through the cranks and offices of man, +The strongest nerves and small inferior veins +From me receive that natural competency +Whereby they live: and though that all at once, +You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,-- + +First Citizen +Ay, sir; well, well. + +MENENIUS +'Though all at once cannot +See what I do deliver out to each, +Yet I can make my audit up, that all +From me do back receive the flour of all, +And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't? + +First Citizen +It was an answer: how apply you this? + +MENENIUS +The senators of Rome are this good belly, +And you the mutinous members; for examine +Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly +Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find +No public benefit which you receive +But it proceeds or comes from them to you +And no way from yourselves. What do you think, +You, the great toe of this assembly? + +First Citizen +I the great toe! why the great toe? + +MENENIUS +For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest, +Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: +Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, +Lead'st first to win some vantage. +But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs: +Rome and her rats are at the point of battle; +The one side must have bale. + +Enter CAIUS MARCIUS + +Hail, noble Marcius! + +MARCIUS +Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, +That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, +Make yourselves scabs? + +First Citizen +We have ever your good word. + +MARCIUS +He that will give good words to thee will flatter +Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, +That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, +The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, +Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; +Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, +Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, +Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is +To make him worthy whose offence subdues him +And curse that justice did it. +Who deserves greatness +Deserves your hate; and your affections are +A sick man's appetite, who desires most that +Which would increase his evil. He that depends +Upon your favours swims with fins of lead +And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye? +With every minute you do change a mind, +And call him noble that was now your hate, +Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, +That in these several places of the city +You cry against the noble senate, who, +Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else +Would feed on one another? What's their seeking? + +MENENIUS +For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, +The city is well stored. + +MARCIUS +Hang 'em! They say! +They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know +What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise, +Who thrives and who declines; side factions +and give out +Conjectural marriages; making parties strong +And feebling such as stand not in their liking +Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's +grain enough! +Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, +And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry +With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high +As I could pick my lance. + +MENENIUS +Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; +For though abundantly they lack discretion, +Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, +What says the other troop? + +MARCIUS +They are dissolved: hang 'em! +They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs, +That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, +That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not +Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds +They vented their complainings; which being answer'd, +And a petition granted them, a strange one-- +To break the heart of generosity, +And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps +As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon, +Shouting their emulation. + +MENENIUS +What is granted them? + +MARCIUS +Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, +Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus, +Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath! +The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, +Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time +Win upon power and throw forth greater themes +For insurrection's arguing. + +MENENIUS +This is strange. + +MARCIUS +Go, get you home, you fragments! + +Enter a Messenger, hastily + +Messenger +Where's Caius Marcius? + +MARCIUS +Here: what's the matter? + +Messenger +The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent +Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders. + +Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS + +First Senator +Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us; +The Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +They have a leader, +Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't. +I sin in envying his nobility, +And were I any thing but what I am, +I would wish me only he. + +COMINIUS +You have fought together. + +MARCIUS +Were half to half the world by the ears and he. +Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make +Only my wars with him: he is a lion +That I am proud to hunt. + +First Senator +Then, worthy Marcius, +Attend upon Cominius to these wars. + +COMINIUS +It is your former promise. + +MARCIUS +Sir, it is; +And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou +Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. +What, art thou stiff? stand'st out? + +TITUS +No, Caius Marcius; +I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other, +Ere stay behind this business. + +MENENIUS +O, true-bred! + +First Senator +Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, +Our greatest friends attend us. + +TITUS +[To COMINIUS] Lead you on. + +To MARCIUS + +Right worthy you priority. + +COMINIUS +Noble Marcius! + +First Senator +[To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone! + +MARCIUS +Nay, let them follow: +The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither +To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners, +Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow. + +Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +SICINIUS +Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? + +BRUTUS +He has no equal. + +SICINIUS +When we were chosen tribunes for the people,-- + +BRUTUS +Mark'd you his lip and eyes? + +SICINIUS +Nay. but his taunts. + +BRUTUS +Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods. + +SICINIUS +Be-mock the modest moon. + +BRUTUS +The present wars devour him: he is grown +Too proud to be so valiant. + +SICINIUS +Such a nature, +Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow +Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder +His insolence can brook to be commanded +Under Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Fame, at the which he aims, +In whom already he's well graced, can not +Better be held nor more attain'd than by +A place below the first: for what miscarries +Shall be the general's fault, though he perform +To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure +Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he +Had borne the business!' + +SICINIUS +Besides, if things go well, +Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall +Of his demerits rob Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Come: +Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius. +Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults +To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed +In aught he merit not. + +SICINIUS +Let's hence, and hear +How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, +More than his singularity, he goes +Upon this present action. + +BRUTUS +Lets along. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Corioli. The Senate-house. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators +First Senator +So, your opinion is, Aufidius, +That they of Rome are entered in our counsels +And know how we proceed. + +AUFIDIUS +Is it not yours? +What ever have been thought on in this state, +That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome +Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone +Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think +I have the letter here; yes, here it is. + +Reads + +'They have press'd a power, but it is not known +Whether for east or west: the dearth is great; +The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd, +Cominius, Marcius your old enemy, +Who is of Rome worse hated than of you, +And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, +These three lead on this preparation +Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you: +Consider of it.' + +First Senator +Our army's in the field +We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready +To answer us. + +AUFIDIUS +Nor did you think it folly +To keep your great pretences veil'd till when +They needs must show themselves; which +in the hatching, +It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery. +We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was +To take in many towns ere almost Rome +Should know we were afoot. + +Second Senator +Noble Aufidius, +Take your commission; hie you to your bands: +Let us alone to guard Corioli: +If they set down before 's, for the remove +Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find +They've not prepared for us. + +AUFIDIUS +O, doubt not that; +I speak from certainties. Nay, more, +Some parcels of their power are forth already, +And only hitherward. I leave your honours. +If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet, +'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike +Till one can do no more. + +All +The gods assist you! + +AUFIDIUS +And keep your honours safe! + +First Senator +Farewell. + +Second Senator +Farewell. + +All +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rome. A room in Marcius' house. + +Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA they set them down on two low stools, and sew +VOLUMNIA +I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a +more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I +should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he +won honour than in the embracements of his bed where +he would show most love. When yet he was but +tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when +youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when +for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not +sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering +how honour would become such a person. that it was +no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if +renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek +danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel +war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows +bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not +more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child +than now in first seeing he had proved himself a +man. + +VIRGILIA +But had he died in the business, madam; how then? + +VOLUMNIA +Then his good report should have been my son; I +therein would have found issue. Hear me profess +sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love +alike and none less dear than thine and my good +Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their +country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. + +Enter a Gentlewoman + +Gentlewoman +Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. + +VIRGILIA +Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + +VOLUMNIA +Indeed, you shall not. +Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum, +See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair, +As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him: +Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus: +'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, +Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow +With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes, +Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow +Or all or lose his hire. + +VIRGILIA +His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood! + +VOLUMNIA +Away, you fool! it more becomes a man +Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba, +When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier +Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood +At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria, +We are fit to bid her welcome. + +Exit Gentlewoman + +VIRGILIA +Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + +VOLUMNIA +He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee +And tread upon his neck. + +Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman + +VALERIA +My ladies both, good day to you. + +VOLUMNIA +Sweet madam. + +VIRGILIA +I am glad to see your ladyship. + +VALERIA +How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. +What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good +faith. How does your little son? + +VIRGILIA +I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. + +VOLUMNIA +He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than +look upon his school-master. + +VALERIA +O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a +very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' +Wednesday half an hour together: has such a +confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded +butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go +again; and after it again; and over and over he +comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his +fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his +teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked +it! + +VOLUMNIA +One on 's father's moods. + +VALERIA +Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. + +VIRGILIA +A crack, madam. + +VALERIA +Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play +the idle husewife with me this afternoon. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam; I will not out of doors. + +VALERIA +Not out of doors! + +VOLUMNIA +She shall, she shall. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the +threshold till my lord return from the wars. + +VALERIA +Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, +you must go visit the good lady that lies in. + +VIRGILIA +I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with +my prayers; but I cannot go thither. + +VOLUMNIA +Why, I pray you? + +VIRGILIA +'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. + +VALERIA +You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all +the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill +Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric +were sensible as your finger, that you might leave +pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth. + +VALERIA +In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you +excellent news of your husband. + +VIRGILIA +O, good madam, there can be none yet. + +VALERIA +Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from +him last night. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, madam? + +VALERIA +In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. +Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against +whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of +our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set +down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt +prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true, +on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us. + +VIRGILIA +Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every +thing hereafter. + +VOLUMNIA +Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but +disease our better mirth. + +VALERIA +In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. +Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy +solemness out o' door. and go along with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish +you much mirth. + +VALERIA +Well, then, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Before Corioli. + +Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger +MARCIUS +Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. + +LARTIUS +My horse to yours, no. + +MARCIUS +'Tis done. + +LARTIUS +Agreed. + +MARCIUS +Say, has our general met the enemy? + +Messenger +They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. + +LARTIUS +So, the good horse is mine. + +MARCIUS +I'll buy him of you. + +LARTIUS +No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will +For half a hundred years. Summon the town. + +MARCIUS +How far off lie these armies? + +Messenger +Within this mile and half. + +MARCIUS +Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. +Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, +That we with smoking swords may march from hence, +To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast. + +They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls + +Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? + +First Senator +No, nor a man that fears you less than he, +That's lesser than a little. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! our drums +Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls, +Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates, +Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes; +They'll open of themselves. + +Alarum afar off + +Hark you. far off! +There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes +Amongst your cloven army. + +MARCIUS +O, they are at it! + +LARTIUS +Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! + +Enter the army of the Volsces + +MARCIUS +They fear us not, but issue forth their city. +Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight +With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, +brave Titus: +They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, +Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows: +He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, +And he shall feel mine edge. + +Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing + +MARCIUS +All the contagion of the south light on you, +You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues +Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd +Further than seen and one infect another +Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, +That bear the shapes of men, how have you run +From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! +All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale +With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home, +Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe +And make my wars on you: look to't: come on; +If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, +As they us to our trenches followed. + +Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates + +So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: +'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, +Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. + +Enters the gates + +First Soldier +Fool-hardiness; not I. + +Second Soldier +Nor I. + +MARCIUS is shut in + +First Soldier +See, they have shut him in. + +All +To the pot, I warrant him. + +Alarum continues + +Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS + +LARTIUS +What is become of Marcius? + +All +Slain, sir, doubtless. + +First Soldier +Following the fliers at the very heels, +With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, +Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone, +To answer all the city. + +LARTIUS +O noble fellow! +Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, +And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: +A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, +Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier +Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible +Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and +The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, +Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world +Were feverous and did tremble. + +Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy + +First Soldier +Look, sir. + +LARTIUS +O,'tis Marcius! +Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. + +They fight, and all enter the city + +SCENE V. Corioli. A street. + +Enter certain Romans, with spoils +First Roman +This will I carry to Rome. + +Second Roman +And I this. + +Third Roman +A murrain on't! I took this for silver. + +Alarum continues still afar off + +Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet + +MARCIUS +See here these movers that do prize their hours +At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, +Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would +Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, +Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! +And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! +There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, +Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take +Convenient numbers to make good the city; +Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste +To help Cominius. + +LARTIUS +Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; +Thy exercise hath been too violent for +A second course of fight. + +MARCIUS +Sir, praise me not; +My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well: +The blood I drop is rather physical +Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus +I will appear, and fight. + +LARTIUS +Now the fair goddess, Fortune, +Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms +Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, +Prosperity be thy page! + +MARCIUS +Thy friend no less +Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. + +LARTIUS +Thou worthiest Marcius! + +Exit MARCIUS + +Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; +Call thither all the officers o' the town, +Where they shall know our mind: away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers +COMINIUS +Breathe you, my friends: well fought; +we are come off +Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, +Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, +We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, +By interims and conveying gusts we have heard +The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods! +Lead their successes as we wish our own, +That both our powers, with smiling +fronts encountering, +May give you thankful sacrifice. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy news? + +Messenger +The citizens of Corioli have issued, +And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: +I saw our party to their trenches driven, +And then I came away. + +COMINIUS +Though thou speak'st truth, +Methinks thou speak'st not well. +How long is't since? + +Messenger +Above an hour, my lord. + +COMINIUS +'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: +How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour, +And bring thy news so late? + +Messenger +Spies of the Volsces +Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel +Three or four miles about, else had I, sir, +Half an hour since brought my report. + +COMINIUS +Who's yonder, +That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods +He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have +Before-time seen him thus. + +MARCIUS +[Within] Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour +More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue +From every meaner man. + +Enter MARCIUS + +MARCIUS +Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, +But mantled in your own. + +MARCIUS +O, let me clip ye +In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart +As merry as when our nuptial day was done, +And tapers burn'd to bedward! + +COMINIUS +Flower of warriors, +How is it with Titus Lartius? + +MARCIUS +As with a man busied about decrees: +Condemning some to death, and some to exile; +Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; +Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, +Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, +To let him slip at will. + +COMINIUS +Where is that slave +Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? +Where is he? call him hither. + +MARCIUS +Let him alone; +He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, +The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!-- +The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge +From rascals worse than they. + +COMINIUS +But how prevail'd you? + +MARCIUS +Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. +Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field? +If not, why cease you till you are so? + +COMINIUS +Marcius, +We have at disadvantage fought and did +Retire to win our purpose. + +MARCIUS +How lies their battle? know you on which side +They have placed their men of trust? + +COMINIUS +As I guess, Marcius, +Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates, +Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, +Their very heart of hope. + +MARCIUS +I do beseech you, +By all the battles wherein we have fought, +By the blood we have shed together, by the vows +We have made to endure friends, that you directly +Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates; +And that you not delay the present, but, +Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, +We prove this very hour. + +COMINIUS +Though I could wish +You were conducted to a gentle bath +And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never +Deny your asking: take your choice of those +That best can aid your action. + +MARCIUS +Those are they +That most are willing. If any such be here-- +As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting +Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear +Lesser his person than an ill report; +If any think brave death outweighs bad life +And that his country's dearer than himself; +Let him alone, or so many so minded, +Wave thus, to express his disposition, +And follow Marcius. + +They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps + +O, me alone! make you a sword of me? +If these shows be not outward, which of you +But is four Volsces? none of you but is +Able to bear against the great Aufidius +A shield as hard as his. A certain number, +Though thanks to all, must I select +from all: the rest +Shall bear the business in some other fight, +As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; +And four shall quickly draw out my command, +Which men are best inclined. + +COMINIUS +March on, my fellows: +Make good this ostentation, and you shall +Divide in all with us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The gates of Corioli. + +TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout +LARTIUS +So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties, +As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch +Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve +For a short holding: if we lose the field, +We cannot keep the town. + +Lieutenant +Fear not our care, sir. + +LARTIUS +Hence, and shut your gates upon's. +Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A field of battle. + +Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS +MARCIUS +I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee +Worse than a promise-breaker. + +AUFIDIUS +We hate alike: +Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor +More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. + +MARCIUS +Let the first budger die the other's slave, +And the gods doom him after! + +AUFIDIUS +If I fly, Marcius, +Holloa me like a hare. + +MARCIUS +Within these three hours, Tullus, +Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, +And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood +Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge +Wrench up thy power to the highest. + +AUFIDIUS +Wert thou the Hector +That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, +Thou shouldst not scape me here. + +They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in breathless + +Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me +In your condemned seconds. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. The Roman camp. + +Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf +COMINIUS +If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, +Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it +Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles, +Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, +I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted, +And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the +dull tribunes, +That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, +Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods +Our Rome hath such a soldier.' +Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, +Having fully dined before. + +Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit + +LARTIUS +O general, +Here is the steed, we the caparison: +Hadst thou beheld-- + +MARCIUS +Pray now, no more: my mother, +Who has a charter to extol her blood, +When she does praise me grieves me. I have done +As you have done; that's what I can; induced +As you have been; that's for my country: +He that has but effected his good will +Hath overta'en mine act. + +COMINIUS +You shall not be +The grave of your deserving; Rome must know +The value of her own: 'twere a concealment +Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, +To hide your doings; and to silence that, +Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, +Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you +In sign of what you are, not to reward +What you have done--before our army hear me. + +MARCIUS +I have some wounds upon me, and they smart +To hear themselves remember'd. + +COMINIUS +Should they not, +Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, +And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, +Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all +The treasure in this field achieved and city, +We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth, +Before the common distribution, at +Your only choice. + +MARCIUS +I thank you, general; +But cannot make my heart consent to take +A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it; +And stand upon my common part with those +That have beheld the doing. + +A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!' cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare + +MARCIUS +May these same instruments, which you profane, +Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall +I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be +Made all of false-faced soothing! +When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, +Let him be made a coverture for the wars! +No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd +My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.-- +Which, without note, here's many else have done,-- +You shout me forth +In acclamations hyperbolical; +As if I loved my little should be dieted +In praises sauced with lies. + +COMINIUS +Too modest are you; +More cruel to your good report than grateful +To us that give you truly: by your patience, +If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, +Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, +Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, +As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius +Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, +My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, +With all his trim belonging; and from this time, +For what he did before Corioli, call him, +With all the applause and clamour of the host, +CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear +The addition nobly ever! + +Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums + +All +Caius Marcius Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +I will go wash; +And when my face is fair, you shall perceive +Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you. +I mean to stride your steed, and at all times +To undercrest your good addition +To the fairness of my power. + +COMINIUS +So, to our tent; +Where, ere we do repose us, we will write +To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, +Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome +The best, with whom we may articulate, +For their own good and ours. + +LARTIUS +I shall, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +The gods begin to mock me. I, that now +Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg +Of my lord general. + +COMINIUS +Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? + +CORIOLANUS +I sometime lay here in Corioli +At a poor man's house; he used me kindly: +He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; +But then Aufidius was with in my view, +And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you +To give my poor host freedom. + +COMINIUS +O, well begg'd! +Were he the butcher of my son, he should +Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. + +LARTIUS +Marcius, his name? + +CORIOLANUS +By Jupiter! forgot. +I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. +Have we no wine here? + +COMINIUS +Go we to our tent: +The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time +It should be look'd to: come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces. + +A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers +AUFIDIUS +The town is ta'en! + +First Soldier +'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. + +AUFIDIUS +Condition! +I would I were a Roman; for I cannot, +Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition! +What good condition can a treaty find +I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, +I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me, +And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter +As often as we eat. By the elements, +If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, +He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation +Hath not that honour in't it had; for where +I thought to crush him in an equal force, +True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way +Or wrath or craft may get him. + +First Soldier +He's the devil. + +AUFIDIUS +Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd +With only suffering stain by him; for him +Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary, +Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, +The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, +Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up +Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst +My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it +At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, +Against the hospitable canon, would I +Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city; +Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must +Be hostages for Rome. + +First Soldier +Will not you go? + +AUFIDIUS +I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you-- +'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither +How the world goes, that to the pace of it +I may spur on my journey. + +First Soldier +I shall, sir. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. +MENENIUS +The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. + +BRUTUS +Good or bad? + +MENENIUS +Not according to the prayer of the people, for they +love not Marcius. + +SICINIUS +Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, who does the wolf love? + +SICINIUS +The lamb. + +MENENIUS +Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the +noble Marcius. + +BRUTUS +He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. + +MENENIUS +He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two +are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. + +Both +Well, sir. + +MENENIUS +In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two +have not in abundance? + +BRUTUS +He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. + +SICINIUS +Especially in pride. + +BRUTUS +And topping all others in boasting. + +MENENIUS +This is strange now: do you two know how you are +censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the +right-hand file? do you? + +Both +Why, how are we censured? + +MENENIUS +Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? + +Both +Well, well, sir, well. + +MENENIUS +Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of +occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: +give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at +your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a +pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for +being proud? + +BRUTUS +We do it not alone, sir. + +MENENIUS +I know you can do very little alone; for your helps +are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous +single: your abilities are too infant-like for +doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you +could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, +and make but an interior survey of your good selves! +O that you could! + +BRUTUS +What then, sir? + +MENENIUS +Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, +proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as +any in Rome. + +SICINIUS +Menenius, you are known well enough too. + +MENENIUS +I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that +loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying +Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in +favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like +upon too trivial motion; one that converses more +with the buttock of the night than with the forehead +of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my +malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as +you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink +you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a +crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have +delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in +compound with the major part of your syllables: and +though I must be content to bear with those that say +you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that +tell you you have good faces. If you see this in +the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known +well enough too? what barm can your bisson +conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be +known well enough too? + +BRUTUS +Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. + +MENENIUS +You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You +are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you +wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a +cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; +and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a +second day of audience. When you are hearing a +matter between party and party, if you chance to be +pinched with the colic, you make faces like +mummers; set up the bloody flag against all +patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, +dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled +by your hearing: all the peace you make in their +cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are +a pair of strange ones. + +BRUTUS +Come, come, you are well understood to be a +perfecter giber for the table than a necessary +bencher in the Capitol. + +MENENIUS +Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall +encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When +you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the +wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not +so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's +cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack- +saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; +who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors +since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the +best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to +your worships: more of your conversation would +infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly +plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you. + +BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA + +How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon, +were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow +your eyes so fast? + +VOLUMNIA +Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for +the love of Juno, let's go. + +MENENIUS +Ha! Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous +approbation. + +MENENIUS +Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! +Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA VIRGILIA +Nay,'tis true. + +VOLUMNIA +Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath +another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one +at home for you. + +MENENIUS +I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for +me! + +VIRGILIA +Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. + +MENENIUS +A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven +years' health; in which time I will make a lip at +the physician: the most sovereign prescription in +Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, +of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he +not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. + +VIRGILIA +O, no, no, no. + +VOLUMNIA +O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. + +MENENIUS +So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' +victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. + +VOLUMNIA +On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home +with the oaken garland. + +MENENIUS +Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? + +VOLUMNIA +Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but +Aufidius got off. + +MENENIUS +And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: +an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so +fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold +that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? + +VOLUMNIA +Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate +has letters from the general, wherein he gives my +son the whole name of the war: he hath in this +action outdone his former deeds doubly + +VALERIA +In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. + +MENENIUS +Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his +true purchasing. + +VIRGILIA +The gods grant them true! + +VOLUMNIA +True! pow, wow. + +MENENIUS +True! I'll be sworn they are true. +Where is he wounded? + +To the Tribunes + +God save your good worships! Marcius is coming +home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? + +VOLUMNIA +I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be +large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall +stand for his place. He received in the repulse of +Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. + +MENENIUS +One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's +nine that I know. + +VOLUMNIA +He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five +wounds upon him. + +MENENIUS +Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. + +A shout and flourish + +Hark! the trumpets. + +VOLUMNIA +These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he +carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: +Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; +Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. + +A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald + +Herald +Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight +Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, +With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these +In honour follows Coriolanus. +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +Flourish + +All +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +No more of this; it does offend my heart: +Pray now, no more. + +COMINIUS +Look, sir, your mother! + +CORIOLANUS +O, +You have, I know, petition'd all the gods +For my prosperity! + +Kneels + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, my good soldier, up; +My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and +By deed-achieving honour newly named,-- +What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?-- +But O, thy wife! + +CORIOLANUS +My gracious silence, hail! +Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, +That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, +Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, +And mothers that lack sons. + +MENENIUS +Now, the gods crown thee! + +CORIOLANUS +And live you yet? + +To VALERIA + +O my sweet lady, pardon. + +VOLUMNIA +I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: +And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all. + +MENENIUS +A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep +And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome. +A curse begin at very root on's heart, +That is not glad to see thee! You are three +That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, +We have some old crab-trees here +at home that will not +Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: +We call a nettle but a nettle and +The faults of fools but folly. + +COMINIUS +Ever right. + +CORIOLANUS +Menenius ever, ever. + +Herald +Give way there, and go on! + +CORIOLANUS +[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours: +Ere in our own house I do shade my head, +The good patricians must be visited; +From whom I have received not only greetings, +But with them change of honours. + +VOLUMNIA +I have lived +To see inherited my very wishes +And the buildings of my fancy: only +There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but +Our Rome will cast upon thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Know, good mother, +I had rather be their servant in my way, +Than sway with them in theirs. + +COMINIUS +On, to the Capitol! + +Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward + +BRUTUS +All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights +Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse +Into a rapture lets her baby cry +While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins +Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, +Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, +Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed +With variable complexions, all agreeing +In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens +Do press among the popular throngs and puff +To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames +Commit the war of white and damask in +Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil +Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother +As if that whatsoever god who leads him +Were slily crept into his human powers +And gave him graceful posture. + +SICINIUS +On the sudden, +I warrant him consul. + +BRUTUS +Then our office may, +During his power, go sleep. + +SICINIUS +He cannot temperately transport his honours +From where he should begin and end, but will +Lose those he hath won. + +BRUTUS +In that there's comfort. + +SICINIUS +Doubt not +The commoners, for whom we stand, but they +Upon their ancient malice will forget +With the least cause these his new honours, which +That he will give them make I as little question +As he is proud to do't. + +BRUTUS +I heard him swear, +Were he to stand for consul, never would he +Appear i' the market-place nor on him put +The napless vesture of humility; +Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds +To the people, beg their stinking breaths. + +SICINIUS +'Tis right. + +BRUTUS +It was his word: O, he would miss it rather +Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, +And the desire of the nobles. + +SICINIUS +I wish no better +Than have him hold that purpose and to put it +In execution. + +BRUTUS +'Tis most like he will. + +SICINIUS +It shall be to him then as our good wills, +A sure destruction. + +BRUTUS +So it must fall out +To him or our authorities. For an end, +We must suggest the people in what hatred +He still hath held them; that to's power he would +Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and +Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, +In human action and capacity, +Of no more soul nor fitness for the world +Than camels in the war, who have their provand +Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows +For sinking under them. + +SICINIUS +This, as you say, suggested +At some time when his soaring insolence +Shall touch the people--which time shall not want, +If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy +As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire +To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze +Shall darken him for ever. + +Enter a Messenger + +BRUTUS +What's the matter? + +Messenger +You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought +That Marcius shall be consul: +I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and +The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, +Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, +Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, +As to Jove's statue, and the commons made +A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts: +I never saw the like. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol; +And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, +But hearts for the event. + +SICINIUS +Have with you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Capitol. + +Enter two Officers, to lay cushions +First Officer +Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand +for consulships? + +Second Officer +Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one +Coriolanus will carry it. + +First Officer +That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and +loves not the common people. + +Second Officer +Faith, there had been many great men that have +flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there +be many that they have loved, they know not +wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, +they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for +Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate +him manifests the true knowledge he has in their +disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets +them plainly see't. + +First Officer +If he did not care whether he had their love or no, +he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither +good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater +devotion than can render it him; and leaves +nothing undone that may fully discover him their +opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and +displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he +dislikes, to flatter them for their love. + +Second Officer +He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his +ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, +having been supple and courteous to the people, +bonneted, without any further deed to have them at +an into their estimation and report: but he hath so +planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions +in their hearts, that for their tongues to be +silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of +ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a +malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck +reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it. + +First Officer +No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they +are coming. + +A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their places; the Tribunes take their Places by themselves. CORIOLANUS stands + +MENENIUS +Having determined of the Volsces and +To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, +As the main point of this our after-meeting, +To gratify his noble service that +Hath thus stood for his country: therefore, +please you, +Most reverend and grave elders, to desire +The present consul, and last general +In our well-found successes, to report +A little of that worthy work perform'd +By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom +We met here both to thank and to remember +With honours like himself. + +First Senator +Speak, good Cominius: +Leave nothing out for length, and make us think +Rather our state's defective for requital +Than we to stretch it out. + +To the Tribunes + +Masters o' the people, +We do request your kindest ears, and after, +Your loving motion toward the common body, +To yield what passes here. + +SICINIUS +We are convented +Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts +Inclinable to honour and advance +The theme of our assembly. + +BRUTUS +Which the rather +We shall be blest to do, if he remember +A kinder value of the people than +He hath hereto prized them at. + +MENENIUS +That's off, that's off; +I would you rather had been silent. Please you +To hear Cominius speak? + +BRUTUS +Most willingly; +But yet my caution was more pertinent +Than the rebuke you give it. + +MENENIUS +He loves your people +But tie him not to be their bedfellow. +Worthy Cominius, speak. + +CORIOLANUS offers to go away + +Nay, keep your place. + +First Senator +Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear +What you have nobly done. + +CORIOLANUS +Your horror's pardon: +I had rather have my wounds to heal again +Than hear say how I got them. + +BRUTUS +Sir, I hope +My words disbench'd you not. + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir: yet oft, +When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. +You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but +your people, +I love them as they weigh. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, sit down. + +CORIOLANUS +I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun +When the alarum were struck than idly sit +To hear my nothings monster'd. + +Exit + +MENENIUS +Masters of the people, +Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-- +That's thousand to one good one--when you now see +He had rather venture all his limbs for honour +Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus +Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held +That valour is the chiefest virtue, and +Most dignifies the haver: if it be, +The man I speak of cannot in the world +Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, +When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought +Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator, +Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight, +When with his Amazonian chin he drove +The bristled lips before him: be bestrid +An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view +Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met, +And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats, +When he might act the woman in the scene, +He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed +Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age +Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea, +And in the brunt of seventeen battles since +He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, +Before and in Corioli, let me say, +I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; +And by his rare example made the coward +Turn terror into sport: as weeds before +A vessel under sail, so men obey'd +And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, +Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot +He was a thing of blood, whose every motion +Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd +The mortal gate of the city, which he painted +With shunless destiny; aidless came off, +And with a sudden reinforcement struck +Corioli like a planet: now all's his: +When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce +His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit +Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, +And to the battle came he; where he did +Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if +'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd +Both field and city ours, he never stood +To ease his breast with panting. + +MENENIUS +Worthy man! + +First Senator +He cannot but with measure fit the honours +Which we devise him. + +COMINIUS +Our spoils he kick'd at, +And look'd upon things precious as they were +The common muck of the world: he covets less +Than misery itself would give; rewards +His deeds with doing them, and is content +To spend the time to end it. + +MENENIUS +He's right noble: +Let him be call'd for. + +First Senator +Call Coriolanus. + +Officer +He doth appear. + +Re-enter CORIOLANUS + +MENENIUS +The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased +To make thee consul. + +CORIOLANUS +I do owe them still +My life and services. + +MENENIUS +It then remains +That you do speak to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +I do beseech you, +Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot +Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them, +For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you +That I may pass this doing. + +SICINIUS +Sir, the people +Must have their voices; neither will they bate +One jot of ceremony. + +MENENIUS +Put them not to't: +Pray you, go fit you to the custom and +Take to you, as your predecessors have, +Your honour with your form. + +CORIOLANUS +It is apart +That I shall blush in acting, and might well +Be taken from the people. + +BRUTUS +Mark you that? + +CORIOLANUS +To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus; +Show them the unaching scars which I should hide, +As if I had received them for the hire +Of their breath only! + +MENENIUS +Do not stand upon't. +We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, +Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul +Wish we all joy and honour. + +Senators +To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! + +Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +BRUTUS +You see how he intends to use the people. + +SICINIUS +May they perceive's intent! He will require them, +As if he did contemn what he requested +Should be in them to give. + +BRUTUS +Come, we'll inform them +Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace, +I know, they do attend us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter seven or eight Citizens +First Citizen +Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. + +Second Citizen +We may, sir, if we will. + +Third Citizen +We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a +power that we have no power to do; for if he show us +his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our +tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if +he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him +our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is +monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful, +were to make a monster of the multitude: of the +which we being members, should bring ourselves to be +monstrous members. + +First Citizen +And to make us no better thought of, a little help +will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he +himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude. + +Third Citizen +We have been called so of many; not that our heads +are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, +but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and +truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of +one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, +and their consent of one direct way should be at +once to all the points o' the compass. + +Second Citizen +Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would +fly? + +Third Citizen +Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's +will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but +if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward. + +Second Citizen +Why that way? + +Third Citizen +To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts +melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return +for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife. + +Second Citizen +You are never without your tricks: you may, you may. + +Third Citizen +Are you all resolved to give your voices? But +that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I +say, if he would incline to the people, there was +never a worthier man. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility, with MENENIUS + +Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his +behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to +come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and +by threes. He's to make his requests by +particulars; wherein every one of us has a single +honour, in giving him our own voices with our own +tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how +you shall go by him. + +All +Content, content. + +Exeunt Citizens + +MENENIUS +O sir, you are not right: have you not known +The worthiest men have done't? + +CORIOLANUS +What must I say? +'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring +My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds! +I got them in my country's service, when +Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran +From the noise of our own drums.' + +MENENIUS +O me, the gods! +You must not speak of that: you must desire them +To think upon you. + +CORIOLANUS +Think upon me! hang 'em! +I would they would forget me, like the virtues +Which our divines lose by 'em. + +MENENIUS +You'll mar all: +I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, +In wholesome manner. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +Bid them wash their faces +And keep their teeth clean. + +Re-enter two of the Citizens + +So, here comes a brace. + +Re-enter a third Citizen + +You know the cause, air, of my standing here. + +Third Citizen +We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't. + +CORIOLANUS +Mine own desert. + +Second Citizen +Your own desert! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, but not mine own desire. + +Third Citizen +How not your own desire? + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the +poor with begging. + +Third Citizen +You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to +gain by you. + +CORIOLANUS +Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship? + +First Citizen +The price is to ask it kindly. + +CORIOLANUS +Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to +show you, which shall be yours in private. Your +good voice, sir; what say you? + +Second Citizen +You shall ha' it, worthy sir. + +CORIOLANUS +A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices +begged. I have your alms: adieu. + +Third Citizen +But this is something odd. + +Second Citizen +An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter. + +Exeunt the three Citizens + +Re-enter two other Citizens + +CORIOLANUS +Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your +voices that I may be consul, I have here the +customary gown. + +Fourth Citizen +You have deserved nobly of your country, and you +have not deserved nobly. + +CORIOLANUS +Your enigma? + +Fourth Citizen +You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have +been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved +the common people. + +CORIOLANUS +You should account me the more virtuous that I have +not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my +sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer +estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account +gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is +rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise +the insinuating nod and be off to them most +counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the +bewitchment of some popular man and give it +bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, +I may be consul. + +Fifth Citizen +We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give +you our voices heartily. + +Fourth Citizen +You have received many wounds for your country. + +CORIOLANUS +I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I +will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further. + +Both Citizens +The gods give you joy, sir, heartily! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Most sweet voices! +Better it is to die, better to starve, +Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. +Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here, +To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, +Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't: +What custom wills, in all things should we do't, +The dust on antique time would lie unswept, +And mountainous error be too highly heapt +For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so, +Let the high office and the honour go +To one that would do thus. I am half through; +The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. + +Re-enter three Citizens more + +Here come more voices. +Your voices: for your voices I have fought; +Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear +Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six +I have seen and heard of; for your voices have +Done many things, some less, some more your voices: +Indeed I would be consul. + +Sixth Citizen +He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest +man's voice. + +Seventh Citizen +Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy, +and make him good friend to the people! + +All Citizens +Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Worthy voices! + +Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS + +MENENIUS +You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes +Endue you with the people's voice: remains +That, in the official marks invested, you +Anon do meet the senate. + +CORIOLANUS +Is this done? + +SICINIUS +The custom of request you have discharged: +The people do admit you, and are summon'd +To meet anon, upon your approbation. + +CORIOLANUS +Where? at the senate-house? + +SICINIUS +There, Coriolanus. + +CORIOLANUS +May I change these garments? + +SICINIUS +You may, sir. + +CORIOLANUS +That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again, +Repair to the senate-house. + +MENENIUS +I'll keep you company. Will you along? + +BRUTUS +We stay here for the people. + +SICINIUS +Fare you well. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS + +He has it now, and by his looks methink +'Tis warm at 's heart. + +BRUTUS +With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds. +will you dismiss the people? + +Re-enter Citizens + +SICINIUS +How now, my masters! have you chose this man? + +First Citizen +He has our voices, sir. + +BRUTUS +We pray the gods he may deserve your loves. + +Second Citizen +Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice, +He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices. + +Third Citizen +Certainly +He flouted us downright. + +First Citizen +No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us. + +Second Citizen +Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says +He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us +His marks of merit, wounds received for's country. + +SICINIUS +Why, so he did, I am sure. + +Citizens +No, no; no man saw 'em. + +Third Citizen +He said he had wounds, which he could show +in private; +And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, +'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom, +But by your voices, will not so permit me; +Your voices therefore.' When we granted that, +Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you: +Your most sweet voices: now you have left +your voices, +I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery? + +SICINIUS +Why either were you ignorant to see't, +Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness +To yield your voices? + +BRUTUS +Could you not have told him +As you were lesson'd, when he had no power, +But was a petty servant to the state, +He was your enemy, ever spake against +Your liberties and the charters that you bear +I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving +A place of potency and sway o' the state, +If he should still malignantly remain +Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might +Be curses to yourselves? You should have said +That as his worthy deeds did claim no less +Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature +Would think upon you for your voices and +Translate his malice towards you into love, +Standing your friendly lord. + +SICINIUS +Thus to have said, +As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit +And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd +Either his gracious promise, which you might, +As cause had call'd you up, have held him to +Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature, +Which easily endures not article +Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage, +You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler +And pass'd him unelected. + +BRUTUS +Did you perceive +He did solicit you in free contempt +When he did need your loves, and do you think +That his contempt shall not be bruising to you, +When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies +No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry +Against the rectorship of judgment? + +SICINIUS +Have you +Ere now denied the asker? and now again +Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow +Your sued-for tongues? + +Third Citizen +He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet. + +Second Citizen +And will deny him: +I'll have five hundred voices of that sound. + +First Citizen +I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em. + +BRUTUS +Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends, +They have chose a consul that will from them take +Their liberties; make them of no more voice +Than dogs that are as often beat for barking +As therefore kept to do so. + +SICINIUS +Let them assemble, +And on a safer judgment all revoke +Your ignorant election; enforce his pride, +And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not +With what contempt he wore the humble weed, +How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves, +Thinking upon his services, took from you +The apprehension of his present portance, +Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion +After the inveterate hate he bears you. + +BRUTUS +Lay +A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured, +No impediment between, but that you must +Cast your election on him. + +SICINIUS +Say, you chose him +More after our commandment than as guided +By your own true affections, and that your minds, +Preoccupied with what you rather must do +Than what you should, made you against the grain +To voice him consul: lay the fault on us. + +BRUTUS +Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you. +How youngly he began to serve his country, +How long continued, and what stock he springs of, +The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came +That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son, +Who, after great Hostilius, here was king; +Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, +That our beat water brought by conduits hither; +And [Censorinus,] nobly named so, +Twice being [by the people chosen] censor, +Was his great ancestor. + +SICINIUS +One thus descended, +That hath beside well in his person wrought +To be set high in place, we did commend +To your remembrances: but you have found, +Scaling his present bearing with his past, +That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke +Your sudden approbation. + +BRUTUS +Say, you ne'er had done't-- +Harp on that still--but by our putting on; +And presently, when you have drawn your number, +Repair to the Capitol. + +All +We will so: almost all +Repent in their election. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +Let them go on; +This mutiny were better put in hazard, +Than stay, past doubt, for greater: +If, as his nature is, he fall in rage +With their refusal, both observe and answer +The vantage of his anger. + +SICINIUS +To the Capitol, come: +We will be there before the stream o' the people; +And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, +Which we have goaded onward. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators +CORIOLANUS +Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? + +LARTIUS +He had, my lord; and that it was which caused +Our swifter composition. + +CORIOLANUS +So then the Volsces stand but as at first, +Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road. +Upon's again. + +COMINIUS +They are worn, lord consul, so, +That we shall hardly in our ages see +Their banners wave again. + +CORIOLANUS +Saw you Aufidius? + +LARTIUS +On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse +Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely +Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +Spoke he of me? + +LARTIUS +He did, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +How? what? + +LARTIUS +How often he had met you, sword to sword; +That of all things upon the earth he hated +Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes +To hopeless restitution, so he might +Be call'd your vanquisher. + +CORIOLANUS +At Antium lives he? + +LARTIUS +At Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +I wish I had a cause to seek him there, +To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, +The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them; +For they do prank them in authority, +Against all noble sufferance. + +SICINIUS +Pass no further. + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! what is that? + +BRUTUS +It will be dangerous to go on: no further. + +CORIOLANUS +What makes this change? + +MENENIUS +The matter? + +COMINIUS +Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common? + +BRUTUS +Cominius, no. + +CORIOLANUS +Have I had children's voices? + +First Senator +Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place. + +BRUTUS +The people are incensed against him. + +SICINIUS +Stop, +Or all will fall in broil. + +CORIOLANUS +Are these your herd? +Must these have voices, that can yield them now +And straight disclaim their tongues? What are +your offices? +You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? +Have you not set them on? + +MENENIUS +Be calm, be calm. + +CORIOLANUS +It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, +To curb the will of the nobility: +Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule +Nor ever will be ruled. + +BRUTUS +Call't not a plot: +The people cry you mock'd them, and of late, +When corn was given them gratis, you repined; +Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them +Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. + +CORIOLANUS +Why, this was known before. + +BRUTUS +Not to them all. + +CORIOLANUS +Have you inform'd them sithence? + +BRUTUS +How! I inform them! + +CORIOLANUS +You are like to do such business. + +BRUTUS +Not unlike, +Each way, to better yours. + +CORIOLANUS +Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, +Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me +Your fellow tribune. + +SICINIUS +You show too much of that +For which the people stir: if you will pass +To where you are bound, you must inquire your way, +Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, +Or never be so noble as a consul, +Nor yoke with him for tribune. + +MENENIUS +Let's be calm. + +COMINIUS +The people are abused; set on. This paltering +Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus +Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely +I' the plain way of his merit. + +CORIOLANUS +Tell me of corn! +This was my speech, and I will speak't again-- + +MENENIUS +Not now, not now. + +First Senator +Not in this heat, sir, now. + +CORIOLANUS +Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, +I crave their pardons: +For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them +Regard me as I do not flatter, and +Therein behold themselves: I say again, +In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate +The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, +Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, +and scatter'd, +By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, +Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that +Which they have given to beggars. + +MENENIUS +Well, no more. + +First Senator +No more words, we beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +How! no more! +As for my country I have shed my blood, +Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs +Coin words till their decay against those measles, +Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought +The very way to catch them. + +BRUTUS +You speak o' the people, +As if you were a god to punish, not +A man of their infirmity. + +SICINIUS +'Twere well +We let the people know't. + +MENENIUS +What, what? his choler? + +CORIOLANUS +Choler! +Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, +By Jove, 'twould be my mind! + +SICINIUS +It is a mind +That shall remain a poison where it is, +Not poison any further. + +CORIOLANUS +Shall remain! +Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you +His absolute 'shall'? + +COMINIUS +'Twas from the canon. + +CORIOLANUS +'Shall'! +O good but most unwise patricians! why, +You grave but reckless senators, have you thus +Given Hydra here to choose an officer, +That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but +The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit +To say he'll turn your current in a ditch, +And make your channel his? If he have power +Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake +Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd, +Be not as common fools; if you are not, +Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, +If they be senators: and they are no less, +When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste +Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, +And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,' +His popular 'shall' against a graver bench +Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself! +It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches +To know, when two authorities are up, +Neither supreme, how soon confusion +May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take +The one by the other. + +COMINIUS +Well, on to the market-place. + +CORIOLANUS +Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth +The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used +Sometime in Greece,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, well, no more of that. + +CORIOLANUS +Though there the people had more absolute power, +I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed +The ruin of the state. + +BRUTUS +Why, shall the people give +One that speaks thus their voice? + +CORIOLANUS +I'll give my reasons, +More worthier than their voices. They know the corn +Was not our recompense, resting well assured +That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war, +Even when the navel of the state was touch'd, +They would not thread the gates. This kind of service +Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war +Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd +Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation +Which they have often made against the senate, +All cause unborn, could never be the motive +Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? +How shall this bisson multitude digest +The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express +What's like to be their words: 'we did request it; +We are the greater poll, and in true fear +They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase +The nature of our seats and make the rabble +Call our cares fears; which will in time +Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in +The crows to peck the eagles. + +MENENIUS +Come, enough. + +BRUTUS +Enough, with over-measure. + +CORIOLANUS +No, take more: +What may be sworn by, both divine and human, +Seal what I end withal! This double worship, +Where one part does disdain with cause, the other +Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom, +Cannot conclude but by the yea and no +Of general ignorance,--it must omit +Real necessities, and give way the while +To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd, +it follows, +Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,-- +You that will be less fearful than discreet, +That love the fundamental part of state +More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer +A noble life before a long, and wish +To jump a body with a dangerous physic +That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out +The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick +The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour +Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state +Of that integrity which should become't, +Not having the power to do the good it would, +For the in which doth control't. + +BRUTUS +Has said enough. + +SICINIUS +Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer +As traitors do. + +CORIOLANUS +Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! +What should the people do with these bald tribunes? +On whom depending, their obedience fails +To the greater bench: in a rebellion, +When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, +Then were they chosen: in a better hour, +Let what is meet be said it must be meet, +And throw their power i' the dust. + +BRUTUS +Manifest treason! + +SICINIUS +This a consul? no. + +BRUTUS +The aediles, ho! + +Enter an AEdile + +Let him be apprehended. + +SICINIUS +Go, call the people: + +Exit AEdile + +in whose name myself +Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, +A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee, +And follow to thine answer. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, old goat! +Senators, & C We'll surety him. + +COMINIUS +Aged sir, hands off. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones +Out of thy garments. + +SICINIUS +Help, ye citizens! + +Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the AEdiles + +MENENIUS +On both sides more respect. + +SICINIUS +Here's he that would take from you all your power. + +BRUTUS +Seize him, AEdiles! + +Citizens +Down with him! down with him! +Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons! + +They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying + +'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!' +'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!' +'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!' + +MENENIUS +What is about to be? I am out of breath; +Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes +To the people! Coriolanus, patience! +Speak, good Sicinius. + +SICINIUS +Hear me, people; peace! + +Citizens +Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak. + +SICINIUS +You are at point to lose your liberties: +Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, +Whom late you have named for consul. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! +This is the way to kindle, not to quench. + +First Senator +To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. + +SICINIUS +What is the city but the people? + +Citizens +True, +The people are the city. + +BRUTUS +By the consent of all, we were establish'd +The people's magistrates. + +Citizens +You so remain. + +MENENIUS +And so are like to do. + +COMINIUS +That is the way to lay the city flat; +To bring the roof to the foundation, +And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, +In heaps and piles of ruin. + +SICINIUS +This deserves death. + +BRUTUS +Or let us stand to our authority, +Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, +Upon the part o' the people, in whose power +We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy +Of present death. + +SICINIUS +Therefore lay hold of him; +Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence +Into destruction cast him. + +BRUTUS +AEdiles, seize him! + +Citizens +Yield, Marcius, yield! + +MENENIUS +Hear me one word; +Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. + +AEdile +Peace, peace! + +MENENIUS +[To BRUTUS] Be that you seem, truly your +country's friend, +And temperately proceed to what you would +Thus violently redress. + +BRUTUS +Sir, those cold ways, +That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous +Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him, +And bear him to the rock. + +CORIOLANUS +No, I'll die here. + +Drawing his sword + +There's some among you have beheld me fighting: +Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. + +MENENIUS +Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile. + +BRUTUS +Lay hands upon him. + +COMINIUS +Help Marcius, help, +You that be noble; help him, young and old! + +Citizens +Down with him, down with him! + +In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the People, are beat in + +MENENIUS +Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! +All will be naught else. + +Second Senator +Get you gone. + +COMINIUS +Stand fast; +We have as many friends as enemies. + +MENENIUS +Sham it be put to that? + +First Senator +The gods forbid! +I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; +Leave us to cure this cause. + +MENENIUS +For 'tis a sore upon us, +You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you. + +COMINIUS +Come, sir, along with us. + +CORIOLANUS +I would they were barbarians--as they are, +Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not, +Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol-- + +MENENIUS +Be gone; +Put not your worthy rage into your tongue; +One time will owe another. + +CORIOLANUS +On fair ground +I could beat forty of them. + +COMINIUS +I could myself +Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the +two tribunes: +But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; +And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands +Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, +Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend +Like interrupted waters and o'erbear +What they are used to bear. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, be gone: +I'll try whether my old wit be in request +With those that have but little: this must be patch'd +With cloth of any colour. + +COMINIUS +Nay, come away. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others + +A Patrician +This man has marr'd his fortune. + +MENENIUS +His nature is too noble for the world: +He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, +Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: +What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; +And, being angry, does forget that ever +He heard the name of death. + +A noise within + +Here's goodly work! + +Second Patrician +I would they were abed! + +MENENIUS +I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance! +Could he not speak 'em fair? + +Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble + +SICINIUS +Where is this viper +That would depopulate the city and +Be every man himself? + +MENENIUS +You worthy tribunes,-- + +SICINIUS +He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock +With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law, +And therefore law shall scorn him further trial +Than the severity of the public power +Which he so sets at nought. + +First Citizen +He shall well know +The noble tribunes are the people's mouths, +And we their hands. + +Citizens +He shall, sure on't. + +MENENIUS +Sir, sir,-- + +SICINIUS +Peace! + +MENENIUS +Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt +With modest warrant. + +SICINIUS +Sir, how comes't that you +Have holp to make this rescue? + +MENENIUS +Hear me speak: +As I do know the consul's worthiness, +So can I name his faults,-- + +SICINIUS +Consul! what consul? + +MENENIUS +The consul Coriolanus. + +BRUTUS +He consul! + +Citizens +No, no, no, no, no. + +MENENIUS +If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, +I may be heard, I would crave a word or two; +The which shall turn you to no further harm +Than so much loss of time. + +SICINIUS +Speak briefly then; +For we are peremptory to dispatch +This viperous traitor: to eject him hence +Were but one danger, and to keep him here +Our certain death: therefore it is decreed +He dies to-night. + +MENENIUS +Now the good gods forbid +That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude +Towards her deserved children is enroll'd +In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam +Should now eat up her own! + +SICINIUS +He's a disease that must be cut away. + +MENENIUS +O, he's a limb that has but a disease; +Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. +What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? +Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-- +Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, +By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country; +And what is left, to lose it by his country, +Were to us all, that do't and suffer it, +A brand to the end o' the world. + +SICINIUS +This is clean kam. + +BRUTUS +Merely awry: when he did love his country, +It honour'd him. + +MENENIUS +The service of the foot +Being once gangrened, is not then respected +For what before it was. + +BRUTUS +We'll hear no more. +Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence: +Lest his infection, being of catching nature, +Spread further. + +MENENIUS +One word more, one word. +This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find +The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late +Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process; +Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out, +And sack great Rome with Romans. + +BRUTUS +If it were so,-- + +SICINIUS +What do ye talk? +Have we not had a taste of his obedience? +Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come. + +MENENIUS +Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars +Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd +In bolted language; meal and bran together +He throws without distinction. Give me leave, +I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him +Where he shall answer, by a lawful form, +In peace, to his utmost peril. + +First Senator +Noble tribunes, +It is the humane way: the other course +Will prove too bloody, and the end of it +Unknown to the beginning. + +SICINIUS +Noble Menenius, +Be you then as the people's officer. +Masters, lay down your weapons. + +BRUTUS +Go not home. + +SICINIUS +Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there: +Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed +In our first way. + +MENENIUS +I'll bring him to you. + +To the Senators + +Let me desire your company: he must come, +Or what is worst will follow. + +First Senator +Pray you, let's to him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians +CORIOLANUS +Let them puff all about mine ears, present me +Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, +Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, +That the precipitation might down stretch +Below the beam of sight, yet will I still +Be thus to them. + +A Patrician +You do the nobler. + +CORIOLANUS +I muse my mother +Does not approve me further, who was wont +To call them woollen vassals, things created +To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads +In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, +When one but of my ordinance stood up +To speak of peace or war. + +Enter VOLUMNIA + +I talk of you: +Why did you wish me milder? would you have me +False to my nature? Rather say I play +The man I am. + +VOLUMNIA +O, sir, sir, sir, +I would have had you put your power well on, +Before you had worn it out. + +CORIOLANUS +Let go. + +VOLUMNIA +You might have been enough the man you are, +With striving less to be so; lesser had been +The thwartings of your dispositions, if +You had not show'd them how ye were disposed +Ere they lack'd power to cross you. + +CORIOLANUS +Let them hang. + +A Patrician +Ay, and burn too. + +Enter MENENIUS and Senators + +MENENIUS +Come, come, you have been too rough, something +too rough; +You must return and mend it. + +First Senator +There's no remedy; +Unless, by not so doing, our good city +Cleave in the midst, and perish. + +VOLUMNIA +Pray, be counsell'd: +I have a heart as little apt as yours, +But yet a brain that leads my use of anger +To better vantage. + +MENENIUS +Well said, noble woman? +Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that +The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic +For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, +Which I can scarcely bear. + +CORIOLANUS +What must I do? + +MENENIUS +Return to the tribunes. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, what then? what then? + +MENENIUS +Repent what you have spoke. + +CORIOLANUS +For them! I cannot do it to the gods; +Must I then do't to them? + +VOLUMNIA +You are too absolute; +Though therein you can never be too noble, +But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, +Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, +I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me, +In peace what each of them by the other lose, +That they combine not there. + +CORIOLANUS +Tush, tush! + +MENENIUS +A good demand. + +VOLUMNIA +If it be honour in your wars to seem +The same you are not, which, for your best ends, +You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse, +That it shall hold companionship in peace +With honour, as in war, since that to both +It stands in like request? + +CORIOLANUS +Why force you this? + +VOLUMNIA +Because that now it lies you on to speak +To the people; not by your own instruction, +Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you, +But with such words that are but rooted in +Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables +Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. +Now, this no more dishonours you at all +Than to take in a town with gentle words, +Which else would put you to your fortune and +The hazard of much blood. +I would dissemble with my nature where +My fortunes and my friends at stake required +I should do so in honour: I am in this, +Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; +And you will rather show our general louts +How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em, +For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard +Of what that want might ruin. + +MENENIUS +Noble lady! +Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, +Not what is dangerous present, but the loss +Of what is past. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, my son, +Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; +And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them-- +Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business +Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant +More learned than the ears--waving thy head, +Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart, +Now humble as the ripest mulberry +That will not hold the handling: or say to them, +Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils +Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, +Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, +In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame +Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far +As thou hast power and person. + +MENENIUS +This but done, +Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; +For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free +As words to little purpose. + +VOLUMNIA +Prithee now, +Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather +Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf +Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit +You make strong party, or defend yourself +By calmness or by absence: all's in anger. + +MENENIUS +Only fair speech. + +COMINIUS +I think 'twill serve, if he +Can thereto frame his spirit. + +VOLUMNIA +He must, and will +Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. + +CORIOLANUS +Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? +Must I with base tongue give my noble heart +A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't: +Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, +This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it +And throw't against the wind. To the market-place! +You have put me now to such a part which never +I shall discharge to the life. + +COMINIUS +Come, come, we'll prompt you. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said +My praises made thee first a soldier, so, +To have my praise for this, perform a part +Thou hast not done before. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, I must do't: +Away, my disposition, and possess me +Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, +Which quired with my drum, into a pipe +Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice +That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves +Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up +The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue +Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, +Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his +That hath received an alms! I will not do't, +Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth +And by my body's action teach my mind +A most inherent baseness. + +VOLUMNIA +At thy choice, then: +To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour +Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let +Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear +Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death +With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list +Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me, +But owe thy pride thyself. + +CORIOLANUS +Pray, be content: +Mother, I am going to the market-place; +Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, +Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved +Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going: +Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; +Or never trust to what my tongue can do +I' the way of flattery further. + +VOLUMNIA +Do your will. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself +To answer mildly; for they are prepared +With accusations, as I hear, more strong +Than are upon you yet. + +CORIOLANUS +The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go: +Let them accuse me by invention, I +Will answer in mine honour. + +MENENIUS +Ay, but mildly. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, mildly be it then. Mildly! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +BRUTUS +In this point charge him home, that he affects +Tyrannical power: if he evade us there, +Enforce him with his envy to the people, +And that the spoil got on the Antiates +Was ne'er distributed. + +Enter an AEdile + +What, will he come? + +AEdile +He's coming. + +BRUTUS +How accompanied? + +AEdile +With old Menenius, and those senators +That always favour'd him. + +SICINIUS +Have you a catalogue +Of all the voices that we have procured +Set down by the poll? + +AEdile +I have; 'tis ready. + +SICINIUS +Have you collected them by tribes? + +AEdile +I have. + +SICINIUS +Assemble presently the people hither; +And when they bear me say 'It shall be so +I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either +For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them +If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.' +Insisting on the old prerogative +And power i' the truth o' the cause. + +AEdile +I shall inform them. + +BRUTUS +And when such time they have begun to cry, +Let them not cease, but with a din confused +Enforce the present execution +Of what we chance to sentence. + +AEdile +Very well. + +SICINIUS +Make them be strong and ready for this hint, +When we shall hap to give 't them. + +BRUTUS +Go about it. + +Exit AEdile + +Put him to choler straight: he hath been used +Ever to conquer, and to have his worth +Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot +Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks +What's in his heart; and that is there which looks +With us to break his neck. + +SICINIUS +Well, here he comes. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with Senators and Patricians + +MENENIUS +Calmly, I do beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece +Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods +Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice +Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's! +Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, +And not our streets with war! + +First Senator +Amen, amen. + +MENENIUS +A noble wish. + +Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens + +SICINIUS +Draw near, ye people. + +AEdile +List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say! + +CORIOLANUS +First, hear me speak. + +Both Tribunes +Well, say. Peace, ho! + +CORIOLANUS +Shall I be charged no further than this present? +Must all determine here? + +SICINIUS +I do demand, +If you submit you to the people's voices, +Allow their officers and are content +To suffer lawful censure for such faults +As shall be proved upon you? + +CORIOLANUS +I am content. + +MENENIUS +Lo, citizens, he says he is content: +The warlike service he has done, consider; think +Upon the wounds his body bears, which show +Like graves i' the holy churchyard. + +CORIOLANUS +Scratches with briers, +Scars to move laughter only. + +MENENIUS +Consider further, +That when he speaks not like a citizen, +You find him like a soldier: do not take +His rougher accents for malicious sounds, +But, as I say, such as become a soldier, +Rather than envy you. + +COMINIUS +Well, well, no more. + +CORIOLANUS +What is the matter +That being pass'd for consul with full voice, +I am so dishonour'd that the very hour +You take it off again? + +SICINIUS +Answer to us. + +CORIOLANUS +Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so. + +SICINIUS +We charge you, that you have contrived to take +From Rome all season'd office and to wind +Yourself into a power tyrannical; +For which you are a traitor to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +How! traitor! + +MENENIUS +Nay, temperately; your promise. + +CORIOLANUS +The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people! +Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune! +Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, +In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in +Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say +'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free +As I do pray the gods. + +SICINIUS +Mark you this, people? + +Citizens +To the rock, to the rock with him! + +SICINIUS +Peace! +We need not put new matter to his charge: +What you have seen him do and heard him speak, +Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, +Opposing laws with strokes and here defying +Those whose great power must try him; even this, +So criminal and in such capital kind, +Deserves the extremest death. + +BRUTUS +But since he hath +Served well for Rome,-- + +CORIOLANUS +What do you prate of service? + +BRUTUS +I talk of that, that know it. + +CORIOLANUS +You? + +MENENIUS +Is this the promise that you made your mother? + +COMINIUS +Know, I pray you,-- + +CORIOLANUS +I know no further: +Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, +Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger +But with a grain a day, I would not buy +Their mercy at the price of one fair word; +Nor cheque my courage for what they can give, +To have't with saying 'Good morrow.' + +SICINIUS +For that he has, +As much as in him lies, from time to time +Envied against the people, seeking means +To pluck away their power, as now at last +Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence +Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers +That do distribute it; in the name o' the people +And in the power of us the tribunes, we, +Even from this instant, banish him our city, +In peril of precipitation +From off the rock Tarpeian never more +To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name, +I say it shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away: +He's banish'd, and it shall be so. + +COMINIUS +Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,-- + +SICINIUS +He's sentenced; no more hearing. + +COMINIUS +Let me speak: +I have been consul, and can show for Rome +Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love +My country's good with a respect more tender, +More holy and profound, than mine own life, +My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase, +And treasure of my loins; then if I would +Speak that,-- + +SICINIUS +We know your drift: speak what? + +BRUTUS +There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd, +As enemy to the people and his country: +It shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so. + +CORIOLANUS +You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate +As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize +As the dead carcasses of unburied men +That do corrupt my air, I banish you; +And here remain with your uncertainty! +Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! +Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, +Fan you into despair! Have the power still +To banish your defenders; till at length +Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels, +Making not reservation of yourselves, +Still your own foes, deliver you as most +Abated captives to some nation +That won you without blows! Despising, +For you, the city, thus I turn my back: +There is a world elsewhere. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians + +AEdile +The people's enemy is gone, is gone! + +Citizens +Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! + +Shouting, and throwing up their caps + +SICINIUS +Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, +As he hath followed you, with all despite; +Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard +Attend us through the city. + +Citizens +Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come. +The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the city. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome +CORIOLANUS +Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast +With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, +Where is your ancient courage? you were used +To say extremity was the trier of spirits; +That common chances common men could bear; +That when the sea was calm all boats alike +Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, +When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves +A noble cunning: you were used to load me +With precepts that would make invincible +The heart that conn'd them. + +VIRGILIA +O heavens! O heavens! + +CORIOLANUS +Nay! prithee, woman,-- + +VOLUMNIA +Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, +And occupations perish! + +CORIOLANUS +What, what, what! +I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. +Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, +If you had been the wife of Hercules, +Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved +Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, +Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: +I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, +Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, +And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, +I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld +Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women +'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, +As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well +My hazards still have been your solace: and +Believe't not lightly--though I go alone, +Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen +Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son +Will or exceed the common or be caught +With cautelous baits and practise. + +VOLUMNIA +My first son. +Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius +With thee awhile: determine on some course, +More than a wild exposture to each chance +That starts i' the way before thee. + +CORIOLANUS +O the gods! + +COMINIUS +I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee +Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us +And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth +A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send +O'er the vast world to seek a single man, +And lose advantage, which doth ever cool +I' the absence of the needer. + +CORIOLANUS +Fare ye well: +Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full +Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one +That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate. +Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and +My friends of noble touch, when I am forth, +Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. +While I remain above the ground, you shall +Hear from me still, and never of me aught +But what is like me formerly. + +MENENIUS +That's worthily +As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep. +If I could shake off but one seven years +From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, +I'ld with thee every foot. + +CORIOLANUS +Give me thy hand: Come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile +SICINIUS +Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further. +The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided +In his behalf. + +BRUTUS +Now we have shown our power, +Let us seem humbler after it is done +Than when it was a-doing. + +SICINIUS +Bid them home: +Say their great enemy is gone, and they +Stand in their ancient strength. + +BRUTUS +Dismiss them home. + +Exit AEdile + +Here comes his mother. + +SICINIUS +Let's not meet her. + +BRUTUS +Why? + +SICINIUS +They say she's mad. + +BRUTUS +They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way. + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS + +VOLUMNIA +O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods +Requite your love! + +MENENIUS +Peace, peace; be not so loud. + +VOLUMNIA +If that I could for weeping, you should hear,-- +Nay, and you shall hear some. + +To BRUTUS + +Will you be gone? + +VIRGILIA +[To SICINIUS] You shall stay too: I would I had the power +To say so to my husband. + +SICINIUS +Are you mankind? + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool. +Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship +To banish him that struck more blows for Rome +Than thou hast spoken words? + +SICINIUS +O blessed heavens! + +VOLUMNIA +More noble blows than ever thou wise words; +And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go: +Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son +Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, +His good sword in his hand. + +SICINIUS +What then? + +VIRGILIA +What then! +He'ld make an end of thy posterity. + +VOLUMNIA +Bastards and all. +Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! + +MENENIUS +Come, come, peace. + +SICINIUS +I would he had continued to his country +As he began, and not unknit himself +The noble knot he made. + +BRUTUS +I would he had. + +VOLUMNIA +'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble: +Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth +As I can of those mysteries which heaven +Will not have earth to know. + +BRUTUS +Pray, let us go. + +VOLUMNIA +Now, pray, sir, get you gone: +You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- +As far as doth the Capitol exceed +The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- +This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- +Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. + +BRUTUS +Well, well, we'll leave you. + +SICINIUS +Why stay we to be baited +With one that wants her wits? + +VOLUMNIA +Take my prayers with you. + +Exeunt Tribunes + +I would the gods had nothing else to do +But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em +But once a-day, it would unclog my heart +Of what lies heavy to't. + +MENENIUS +You have told them home; +And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me? + +VOLUMNIA +Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, +And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go: +Leave this faint puling and lament as I do, +In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium. + +Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting +Roman +I know you well, sir, and you know +me: your name, I think, is Adrian. + +Volsce +It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you. + +Roman +I am a Roman; and my services are, +as you are, against 'em: know you me yet? + +Volsce +Nicanor? no. + +Roman +The same, sir. + +Volsce +You had more beard when I last saw you; but your +favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the +news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state, +to find you out there: you have well saved me a +day's journey. + +Roman +There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the +people against the senators, patricians, and nobles. + +Volsce +Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not +so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and +hope to come upon them in the heat of their division. + +Roman +The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing +would make it flame again: for the nobles receive +so to heart the banishment of that worthy +Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take +all power from the people and to pluck from them +their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can +tell you, and is almost mature for the violent +breaking out. + +Volsce +Coriolanus banished! + +Roman +Banished, sir. + +Volsce +You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor. + +Roman +The day serves well for them now. I have heard it +said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is +when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble +Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his +great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request +of his country. + +Volsce +He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus +accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my +business, and I will merrily accompany you home. + +Roman +I shall, between this and supper, tell you most +strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of +their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you? + +Volsce +A most royal one; the centurions and their charges, +distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, +and to be on foot at an hour's warning. + +Roman +I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the +man, I think, that shall set them in present action. +So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company. + +Volsce +You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause +to be glad of yours. + +Roman +Well, let us go together. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidius's house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised and muffled +CORIOLANUS +A goodly city is this Antium. City, +'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir +Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars +Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not, +Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones +In puny battle slay me. + +Enter a Citizen + +Save you, sir. + +Citizen +And you. + +CORIOLANUS +Direct me, if it be your will, +Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium? + +Citizen +He is, and feasts the nobles of the state +At his house this night. + +CORIOLANUS +Which is his house, beseech you? + +Citizen +This, here before you. + +CORIOLANUS +Thank you, sir: farewell. + +Exit Citizen + +O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, +Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, +Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, +Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love +Unseparable, shall within this hour, +On a dissension of a doit, break out +To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, +Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, +To take the one the other, by some chance, +Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends +And interjoin their issues. So with me: +My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon +This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me, +He does fair justice; if he give me way, +I'll do his country service. + +Exit + +SCENE V. The same. A hall in Aufidius's house. + +Music within. Enter a Servingman +First Servingman +Wine, wine, wine! What service +is here! I think our fellows are asleep. + +Exit + +Enter a second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Where's Cotus? my master calls +for him. Cotus! + +Exit + +Enter CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I +Appear not like a guest. + +Re-enter the first Servingman + +First Servingman +What would you have, friend? whence are you? +Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +I have deserved no better entertainment, +In being Coriolanus. + +Re-enter second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his +head; that he gives entrance to such companions? +Pray, get you out. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +Second Servingman +Away! get you away. + +CORIOLANUS +Now thou'rt troublesome. + +Second Servingman +Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. + +Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him + +Third Servingman +What fellow's this? + +First Servingman +A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him +out of the house: prithee, call my master to him. + +Retires + +Third Servingman +What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid +the house. + +CORIOLANUS +Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth. + +Third Servingman +What are you? + +CORIOLANUS +A gentleman. + +Third Servingman +A marvellous poor one. + +CORIOLANUS +True, so I am. + +Third Servingman +Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other +station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come. + +CORIOLANUS +Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits. + +Pushes him away + +Third Servingman +What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a +strange guest he has here. + +Second Servingman +And I shall. + +Exit + +Third Servingman +Where dwellest thou? + +CORIOLANUS +Under the canopy. + +Third Servingman +Under the canopy! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay. + +Third Servingman +Where's that? + +CORIOLANUS +I' the city of kites and crows. + +Third Servingman +I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! +Then thou dwellest with daws too? + +CORIOLANUS +No, I serve not thy master. + +Third Servingman +How, sir! do you meddle with my master? + +CORIOLANUS +Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy +mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy +trencher, hence! + +Beats him away. Exit third Servingman + +Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman + +AUFIDIUS +Where is this fellow? + +Second Servingman +Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for +disturbing the lords within. + +Retires + +AUFIDIUS +Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? +Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +If, Tullus, + +Unmuffling + +Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not +Think me for the man I am, necessity +Commands me name myself. + +AUFIDIUS +What is thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, +And harsh in sound to thine. + +AUFIDIUS +Say, what's thy name? +Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face +Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn. +Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st +thou me yet? + +AUFIDIUS +I know thee not: thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done +To thee particularly and to all the Volsces +Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may +My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, +The extreme dangers and the drops of blood +Shed for my thankless country are requited +But with that surname; a good memory, +And witness of the malice and displeasure +Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; +The cruelty and envy of the people, +Permitted by our dastard nobles, who +Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; +And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be +Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity +Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope-- +Mistake me not--to save my life, for if +I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world +I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, +To be full quit of those my banishers, +Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast +A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge +Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims +Of shame seen through thy country, speed +thee straight, +And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it +That my revengeful services may prove +As benefits to thee, for I will fight +Against my canker'd country with the spleen +Of all the under fiends. But if so be +Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes +Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am +Longer to live most weary, and present +My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; +Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, +Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate, +Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, +And cannot live but to thy shame, unless +It be to do thee service. + +AUFIDIUS +O Marcius, Marcius! +Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart +A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter +Should from yond cloud speak divine things, +And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more +Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine +Mine arms about that body, where against +My grained ash an hundred times hath broke +And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip +The anvil of my sword, and do contest +As hotly and as nobly with thy love +As ever in ambitious strength I did +Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, +I loved the maid I married; never man +Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, +Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart +Than when I first my wedded mistress saw +Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, +We have a power on foot; and I had purpose +Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, +Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out +Twelve several times, and I have nightly since +Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me; +We have been down together in my sleep, +Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, +And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, +Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that +Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all +From twelve to seventy, and pouring war +Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, +Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in, +And take our friendly senators by the hands; +Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, +Who am prepared against your territories, +Though not for Rome itself. + +CORIOLANUS +You bless me, gods! + +AUFIDIUS +Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have +The leading of thine own revenges, take +The one half of my commission; and set down-- +As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st +Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways; +Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, +Or rudely visit them in parts remote, +To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: +Let me commend thee first to those that shall +Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! +And more a friend than e'er an enemy; +Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome! + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two Servingmen come forward + +First Servingman +Here's a strange alteration! + +Second Servingman +By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with +a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a +false report of him. + +First Servingman +What an arm he has! he turned me about with his +finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top. + +Second Servingman +Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in +him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I +cannot tell how to term it. + +First Servingman +He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, +but I thought there was more in him than I could think. + +Second Servingman +So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest +man i' the world. + +First Servingman +I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on. + +Second Servingman +Who, my master? + +First Servingman +Nay, it's no matter for that. + +Second Servingman +Worth six on him. + +First Servingman +Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the +greater soldier. + +Second Servingman +Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: +for the defence of a town, our general is excellent. + +First Servingman +Ay, and for an assault too. + +Re-enter third Servingman + +Third Servingman +O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals! + +First Servingman Second Servingman +What, what, what? let's partake. + +Third Servingman +I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as +lieve be a condemned man. + +First Servingman Second Servingman +Wherefore? wherefore? + +Third Servingman +Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, +Caius Marcius. + +First Servingman +Why do you say 'thwack our general '? + +Third Servingman +I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always +good enough for him. + +Second Servingman +Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too +hard for him; I have heard him say so himself. + +First Servingman +He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth +on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched +him like a carbon ado. + +Second Servingman +An he had been cannibally given, he might have +broiled and eaten him too. + +First Servingman +But, more of thy news? + +Third Servingman +Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son +and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no +question asked him by any of the senators, but they +stand bald before him: our general himself makes a +mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and +turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But +the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i' +the middle and but one half of what he was +yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty +and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, +and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he +will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled. + +Second Servingman +And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. + +Third Servingman +Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as +many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it +were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as +we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude. + +First Servingman +Directitude! what's that? + +Third Servingman +But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, +and the man in blood, they will out of their +burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with +him. + +First Servingman +But when goes this forward? + +Third Servingman +To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the +drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a +parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they +wipe their lips. + +Second Servingman +Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. +This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase +tailors, and breed ballad-makers. + +First Servingman +Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as +day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and +full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; +mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more +bastard children than war's a destroyer of men. + +Second Servingman +'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to +be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a +great maker of cuckolds. + +First Servingman +Ay, and it makes men hate one another. + +Third Servingman +Reason; because they then less need one another. +The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap +as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising. + +All +In, in, in, in! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. A public place. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +SICINIUS +We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; +His remedies are tame i' the present peace +And quietness of the people, which before +Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends +Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, +Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold +Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see +Our tradesmen with in their shops and going +About their functions friendly. + +BRUTUS +We stood to't in good time. + +Enter MENENIUS + +Is this Menenius? + +SICINIUS +'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. + +Both Tribunes +Hail sir! + +MENENIUS +Hail to you both! + +SICINIUS +Your Coriolanus +Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: +The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, +Were he more angry at it. + +MENENIUS +All's well; and might have been much better, if +He could have temporized. + +SICINIUS +Where is he, hear you? + +MENENIUS +Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife +Hear nothing from him. + +Enter three or four Citizens + +Citizens +The gods preserve you both! + +SICINIUS +God-den, our neighbours. + +BRUTUS +God-den to you all, god-den to you all. + +First Citizen +Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, +Are bound to pray for you both. + +SICINIUS +Live, and thrive! + +BRUTUS +Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus +Had loved you as we did. + +Citizens +Now the gods keep you! + +Both Tribunes +Farewell, farewell. + +Exeunt Citizens + +SICINIUS +This is a happier and more comely time +Than when these fellows ran about the streets, +Crying confusion. + +BRUTUS +Caius Marcius was +A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, +O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, +Self-loving,-- + +SICINIUS +And affecting one sole throne, +Without assistance. + +MENENIUS +I think not so. + +SICINIUS +We should by this, to all our lamentation, +If he had gone forth consul, found it so. + +BRUTUS +The gods have well prevented it, and Rome +Sits safe and still without him. + +Enter an AEdile + +AEdile +Worthy tribunes, +There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, +Reports, the Volsces with two several powers +Are enter'd in the Roman territories, +And with the deepest malice of the war +Destroy what lies before 'em. + +MENENIUS +'Tis Aufidius, +Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, +Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; +Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, +And durst not once peep out. + +SICINIUS +Come, what talk you +Of Marcius? + +BRUTUS +Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be +The Volsces dare break with us. + +MENENIUS +Cannot be! +We have record that very well it can, +And three examples of the like have been +Within my age. But reason with the fellow, +Before you punish him, where he heard this, +Lest you shall chance to whip your information +And beat the messenger who bids beware +Of what is to be dreaded. + +SICINIUS +Tell not me: +I know this cannot be. + +BRUTUS +Not possible. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The nobles in great earnestness are going +All to the senate-house: some news is come +That turns their countenances. + +SICINIUS +'Tis this slave;-- +Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising; +Nothing but his report. + +Messenger +Yes, worthy sir, +The slave's report is seconded; and more, +More fearful, is deliver'd. + +SICINIUS +What more fearful? + +Messenger +It is spoke freely out of many mouths-- +How probable I do not know--that Marcius, +Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, +And vows revenge as spacious as between +The young'st and oldest thing. + +SICINIUS +This is most likely! + +BRUTUS +Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish +Good Marcius home again. + +SICINIUS +The very trick on't. + +MENENIUS +This is unlikely: +He and Aufidius can no more atone +Than violentest contrariety. + +Enter a second Messenger + +Second Messenger +You are sent for to the senate: +A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius +Associated with Aufidius, rages +Upon our territories; and have already +O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took +What lay before them. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +O, you have made good work! + +MENENIUS +What news? what news? + +COMINIUS +You have holp to ravish your own daughters and +To melt the city leads upon your pates, +To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,-- + +MENENIUS +What's the news? what's the news? + +COMINIUS +Your temples burned in their cement, and +Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined +Into an auger's bore. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, your news? +You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?-- +If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,-- + +COMINIUS +If! +He is their god: he leads them like a thing +Made by some other deity than nature, +That shapes man better; and they follow him, +Against us brats, with no less confidence +Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, +Or butchers killing flies. + +MENENIUS +You have made good work, +You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much +on the voice of occupation and +The breath of garlic-eaters! + +COMINIUS +He will shake +Your Rome about your ears. + +MENENIUS +As Hercules +Did shake down mellow fruit. +You have made fair work! + +BRUTUS +But is this true, sir? + +COMINIUS +Ay; and you'll look pale +Before you find it other. All the regions +Do smilingly revolt; and who resist +Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, +And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him? +Your enemies and his find something in him. + +MENENIUS +We are all undone, unless +The noble man have mercy. + +COMINIUS +Who shall ask it? +The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people +Deserve such pity of him as the wolf +Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they +Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even +As those should do that had deserved his hate, +And therein show'd like enemies. + +MENENIUS +'Tis true: +If he were putting to my house the brand +That should consume it, I have not the face +To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands, +You and your crafts! you have crafted fair! + +COMINIUS +You have brought +A trembling upon Rome, such as was never +So incapable of help. + +Both Tribunes +Say not we brought it. + +MENENIUS +How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts +And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, +Who did hoot him out o' the city. + +COMINIUS +But I fear +They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, +The second name of men, obeys his points +As if he were his officer: desperation +Is all the policy, strength and defence, +That Rome can make against them. + +Enter a troop of Citizens + +MENENIUS +Here come the clusters. +And is Aufidius with him? You are they +That made the air unwholesome, when you cast +Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at +Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming; +And not a hair upon a soldier's head +Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs +As you threw caps up will he tumble down, +And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter; +if he could burn us all into one coal, +We have deserved it. + +Citizens +Faith, we hear fearful news. + +First Citizen +For mine own part, +When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity. + +Second Citizen +And so did I. + +Third Citizen +And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very +many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and +though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet +it was against our will. + +COMINIUS +Ye re goodly things, you voices! + +MENENIUS +You have made +Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol? + +COMINIUS +O, ay, what else? + +Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS + +SICINIUS +Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd: +These are a side that would be glad to have +This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, +And show no sign of fear. + +First Citizen +The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. +I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished +him. + +Second Citizen +So did we all. But, come, let's home. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +I do not like this news. + +SICINIUS +Nor I. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth +Would buy this for a lie! + +SICINIUS +Pray, let us go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. A camp, at a small distance from Rome. + +Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant +AUFIDIUS +Do they still fly to the Roman? + +Lieutenant +I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but +Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, +Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; +And you are darken'd in this action, sir, +Even by your own. + +AUFIDIUS +I cannot help it now, +Unless, by using means, I lame the foot +Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, +Even to my person, than I thought he would +When first I did embrace him: yet his nature +In that's no changeling; and I must excuse +What cannot be amended. + +Lieutenant +Yet I wish, sir,-- +I mean for your particular,--you had not +Join'd in commission with him; but either +Had borne the action of yourself, or else +To him had left it solely. + +AUFIDIUS +I understand thee well; and be thou sure, +when he shall come to his account, he knows not +What I can urge against him. Although it seems, +And so he thinks, and is no less apparent +To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly. +And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, +Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon +As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone +That which shall break his neck or hazard mine, +Whene'er we come to our account. + +Lieutenant +Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? + +AUFIDIUS +All places yield to him ere he sits down; +And the nobility of Rome are his: +The senators and patricians love him too: +The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people +Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty +To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome +As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it +By sovereignty of nature. First he was +A noble servant to them; but he could not +Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, +Which out of daily fortune ever taints +The happy man; whether defect of judgment, +To fail in the disposing of those chances +Which he was lord of; or whether nature, +Not to be other than one thing, not moving +From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace +Even with the same austerity and garb +As he controll'd the war; but one of these-- +As he hath spices of them all, not all, +For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd, +So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit, +To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues +Lie in the interpretation of the time: +And power, unto itself most commendable, +Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair +To extol what it hath done. +One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; +Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail. +Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, +Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others +MENENIUS +No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said +Which was sometime his general; who loved him +In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: +But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; +A mile before his tent fall down, and knee +The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd +To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. + +COMINIUS +He would not seem to know me. + +MENENIUS +Do you hear? + +COMINIUS +Yet one time he did call me by my name: +I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops +That we have bled together. Coriolanus +He would not answer to: forbad all names; +He was a kind of nothing, titleless, +Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire +Of burning Rome. + +MENENIUS +Why, so: you have made good work! +A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, +To make coals cheap,--a noble memory! + +COMINIUS +I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon +When it was less expected: he replied, +It was a bare petition of a state +To one whom they had punish'd. + +MENENIUS +Very well: +Could he say less? + +COMINIUS +I offer'd to awaken his regard +For's private friends: his answer to me was, +He could not stay to pick them in a pile +Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, +For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, +And still to nose the offence. + +MENENIUS +For one poor grain or two! +I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, +And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: +You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt +Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. + +SICINIUS +Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid +In this so never-needed help, yet do not +Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you +Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, +More than the instant army we can make, +Might stop our countryman. + +MENENIUS +No, I'll not meddle. + +SICINIUS +Pray you, go to him. + +MENENIUS +What should I do? + +BRUTUS +Only make trial what your love can do +For Rome, towards Marcius. + +MENENIUS +Well, and say that Marcius +Return me, as Cominius is return'd, +Unheard; what then? +But as a discontented friend, grief-shot +With his unkindness? say't be so? + +SICINIUS +Yet your good will +must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure +As you intended well. + +MENENIUS +I'll undertake 't: +I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip +And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. +He was not taken well; he had not dined: +The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then +We pout upon the morning, are unapt +To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd +These and these conveyances of our blood +With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls +Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him +Till he be dieted to my request, +And then I'll set upon him. + +BRUTUS +You know the very road into his kindness, +And cannot lose your way. + +MENENIUS +Good faith, I'll prove him, +Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge +Of my success. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +He'll never hear him. + +SICINIUS +Not? + +COMINIUS +I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye +Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury +The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; +'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me +Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, +He sent in writing after me; what he would not, +Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: +So that all hope is vain. +Unless his noble mother, and his wife; +Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him +For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, +And with our fair entreaties haste them on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome. +Two Sentinels on guard. + +Enter to them, MENENIUS + +First Senator +Stay: whence are you? + +Second Senator +Stand, and go back. + +MENENIUS +You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave, +I am an officer of state, and come +To speak with Coriolanus. + +First Senator +From whence? + +MENENIUS +From Rome. + +First Senator +You may not pass, you must return: our general +Will no more hear from thence. + +Second Senator +You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before +You'll speak with Coriolanus. + +MENENIUS +Good my friends, +If you have heard your general talk of Rome, +And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks, +My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius. + +First Senator +Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name +Is not here passable. + +MENENIUS +I tell thee, fellow, +The general is my lover: I have been +The book of his good acts, whence men have read +His name unparallel'd, haply amplified; +For I have ever verified my friends, +Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity +Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes, +Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground, +I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise +Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow, +I must have leave to pass. + +First Senator +Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his +behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you +should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous +to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, +always factionary on the party of your general. + +Second Senator +Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you +have, I am one that, telling true under him, must +say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not +speak with him till after dinner. + +First Senator +You are a Roman, are you? + +MENENIUS +I am, as thy general is. + +First Senator +Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, +when you have pushed out your gates the very +defender of them, and, in a violent popular +ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to +front his revenges with the easy groans of old +women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with +the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as +you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the +intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with +such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; +therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your +execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn +you out of reprieve and pardon. + +MENENIUS +Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would +use me with estimation. + +Second Senator +Come, my captain knows you not. + +MENENIUS +I mean, thy general. + +First Senator +My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest +I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's +the utmost of your having: back. + +MENENIUS +Nay, but, fellow, fellow,-- + +Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +CORIOLANUS +What's the matter? + +MENENIUS +Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you: +You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall +perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from +my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment +with him, if thou standest not i' the state of +hanging, or of some death more long in +spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now +presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. + +To CORIOLANUS + +The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy +particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than +thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! +thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's +water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to +thee; but being assured none but myself could move +thee, I have been blown out of your gates with +sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy +petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy +wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet +here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my +access to thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +MENENIUS +How! away! + +CORIOLANUS +Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs +Are servanted to others: though I owe +My revenge properly, my remission lies +In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, +Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather +Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone. +Mine ears against your suits are stronger than +Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, +Take this along; I writ it for thy sake + +Gives a letter + +And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius, +I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, +Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st! + +AUFIDIUS +You keep a constant temper. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +First Senator +Now, sir, is your name Menenius? + +Second Senator +'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the +way home again. + +First Senator +Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your +greatness back? + +Second Senator +What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? + +MENENIUS +I neither care for the world nor your general: for +such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, +ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by +himself fears it not from another: let your general +do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and +your misery increase with your age! I say to you, +as I was said to, Away! + +Exit + +First Senator +A noble fellow, I warrant him. + +Second Senator +The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the +oak not to be wind-shaken. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others +CORIOLANUS +We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow +Set down our host. My partner in this action, +You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly +I have borne this business. + +AUFIDIUS +Only their ends +You have respected; stopp'd your ears against +The general suit of Rome; never admitted +A private whisper, no, not with such friends +That thought them sure of you. + +CORIOLANUS +This last old man, +Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, +Loved me above the measure of a father; +Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge +Was to send him; for whose old love I have, +Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd +The first conditions, which they did refuse +And cannot now accept; to grace him only +That thought he could do more, a very little +I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, +Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter +Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? + +Shout within + +Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow +In the same time 'tis made? I will not. + +Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants + +My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould +Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand +The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! +All bond and privilege of nature, break! +Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. +What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, +Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not +Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; +As if Olympus to a molehill should +In supplication nod: and my young boy +Hath an aspect of intercession, which +Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces +Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never +Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, +As if a man were author of himself +And knew no other kin. + +VIRGILIA +My lord and husband! + +CORIOLANUS +These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. + +VIRGILIA +The sorrow that delivers us thus changed +Makes you think so. + +CORIOLANUS +Like a dull actor now, +I have forgot my part, and I am out, +Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, +Forgive my tyranny; but do not say +For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss +Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! +Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss +I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip +Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, +And the most noble mother of the world +Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; + +Kneels + +Of thy deep duty more impression show +Than that of common sons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, stand up blest! +Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, +I kneel before thee; and unproperly +Show duty, as mistaken all this while +Between the child and parent. + +Kneels + +CORIOLANUS +What is this? +Your knees to me? to your corrected son? +Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach +Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds +Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; +Murdering impossibility, to make +What cannot be, slight work. + +VOLUMNIA +Thou art my warrior; +I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? + +CORIOLANUS +The noble sister of Publicola, +The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle +That's curdied by the frost from purest snow +And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! + +VOLUMNIA +This is a poor epitome of yours, +Which by the interpretation of full time +May show like all yourself. + +CORIOLANUS +The god of soldiers, +With the consent of supreme Jove, inform +Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove +To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars +Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, +And saving those that eye thee! + +VOLUMNIA +Your knee, sirrah. + +CORIOLANUS +That's my brave boy! + +VOLUMNIA +Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, +Are suitors to you. + +CORIOLANUS +I beseech you, peace: +Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before: +The thing I have forsworn to grant may never +Be held by you denials. Do not bid me +Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate +Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not +Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not +To ally my rages and revenges with +Your colder reasons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, no more, no more! +You have said you will not grant us any thing; +For we have nothing else to ask, but that +Which you deny already: yet we will ask; +That, if you fail in our request, the blame +May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. + +CORIOLANUS +Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll +Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? + +VOLUMNIA +Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment +And state of bodies would bewray what life +We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself +How more unfortunate than all living women +Are we come hither: since that thy sight, +which should +Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance +with comforts, +Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow; +Making the mother, wife and child to see +The son, the husband and the father tearing +His country's bowels out. And to poor we +Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us +Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort +That all but we enjoy; for how can we, +Alas, how can we for our country pray. +Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory, +Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose +The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person, +Our comfort in the country. We must find +An evident calamity, though we had +Our wish, which side should win: for either thou +Must, as a foreign recreant, be led +With manacles thorough our streets, or else +triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, +And bear the palm for having bravely shed +Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, +I purpose not to wait on fortune till +These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee +Rather to show a noble grace to both parts +Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner +March to assault thy country than to tread-- +Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb, +That brought thee to this world. + +VIRGILIA +Ay, and mine, +That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name +Living to time. + +Young MARCIUS +A' shall not tread on me; +I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. + +CORIOLANUS +Not of a woman's tenderness to be, +Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. +I have sat too long. + +Rising + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, go not from us thus. +If it were so that our request did tend +To save the Romans, thereby to destroy +The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, +As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit +Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces +May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, +'This we received;' and each in either side +Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest +For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, +The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, +That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit +Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name, +Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; +Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, +But with his last attempt he wiped it out; +Destroy'd his country, and his name remains +To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: +Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, +To imitate the graces of the gods; +To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, +And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt +That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? +Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man +Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: +He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy: +Perhaps thy childishness will move him more +Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world +More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate +Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life +Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, +When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, +Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, +Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, +And spurn me back: but if it be not so, +Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee, +That thou restrain'st from me the duty which +To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: +Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees. +To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride +Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end; +This is the last: so we will home to Rome, +And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's: +This boy, that cannot tell what he would have +But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship, +Does reason our petition with more strength +Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go: +This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; +His wife is in Corioli and his child +Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch: +I am hush'd until our city be a-fire, +And then I'll speak a little. + +He holds her by the hand, silent + +CORIOLANUS +O mother, mother! +What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, +The gods look down, and this unnatural scene +They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! +You have won a happy victory to Rome; +But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it, +Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, +If not most mortal to him. But, let it come. +Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, +I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, +Were you in my stead, would you have heard +A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? + +AUFIDIUS +I was moved withal. + +CORIOLANUS +I dare be sworn you were: +And, sir, it is no little thing to make +Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, +What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, +I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, +Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife! + +AUFIDIUS +[Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and +thy honour +At difference in thee: out of that I'll work +Myself a former fortune. + +The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, by and by; + +To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, & c + +But we will drink together; and you shall bear +A better witness back than words, which we, +On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. +Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve +To have a temple built you: all the swords +In Italy, and her confederate arms, +Could not have made this peace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS +MENENIUS +See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond +corner-stone? + +SICINIUS +Why, what of that? + +MENENIUS +If it be possible for you to displace it with your +little finger, there is some hope the ladies of +Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. +But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are +sentenced and stay upon execution. + +SICINIUS +Is't possible that so short a time can alter the +condition of a man! + +MENENIUS +There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; +yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown +from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a +creeping thing. + +SICINIUS +He loved his mother dearly. + +MENENIUS +So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother +now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness +of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he +moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before +his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with +his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a +battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for +Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with +his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity +and a heaven to throne in. + +SICINIUS +Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. + +MENENIUS +I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his +mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy +in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that +shall our poor city find: and all this is long of +you. + +SICINIUS +The gods be good unto us! + +MENENIUS +No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto +us. When we banished him, we respected not them; +and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house: +The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune +And hale him up and down, all swearing, if +The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, +They'll give him death by inches. + +Enter a second Messenger + +SICINIUS +What's the news? + +Second Messenger +Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd, +The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone: +A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, +No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins. + +SICINIUS +Friend, +Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? + +Second Messenger +As certain as I know the sun is fire: +Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? +Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, +As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! + +Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together + +The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes, +Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans, +Make the sun dance. Hark you! + +A shout within + +MENENIUS +This is good news: +I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia +Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, +A city full; of tribunes, such as you, +A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day: +This morning for ten thousand of your throats +I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! + +Music still, with shouts + +SICINIUS +First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, +Accept my thankfulness. + +Second Messenger +Sir, we have all +Great cause to give great thanks. + +SICINIUS +They are near the city? + +Second Messenger +Almost at point to enter. + +SICINIUS +We will meet them, +And help the joy. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, & c. passing over the stage, followed by Patricians and others +First Senator +Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! +Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, +And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: +Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, +Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; +Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!' + +All +Welcome, ladies, Welcome! + +A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants +AUFIDIUS +Go tell the lords o' the city I am here: +Deliver them this paper: having read it, +Bid them repair to the market place; where I, +Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, +Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse +The city ports by this hath enter'd and +Intends to appear before the people, hoping +To purge herself with words: dispatch. + +Exeunt Attendants + +Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction + +Most welcome! + +First Conspirator +How is it with our general? + +AUFIDIUS +Even so +As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, +And with his charity slain. + +Second Conspirator +Most noble sir, +If you do hold the same intent wherein +You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you +Of your great danger. + +AUFIDIUS +Sir, I cannot tell: +We must proceed as we do find the people. + +Third Conspirator +The people will remain uncertain whilst +'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either +Makes the survivor heir of all. + +AUFIDIUS +I know it; +And my pretext to strike at him admits +A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd +Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd, +He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, +Seducing so my friends; and, to this end, +He bow'd his nature, never known before +But to be rough, unswayable and free. + +Third Conspirator +Sir, his stoutness +When he did stand for consul, which he lost +By lack of stooping,-- + +AUFIDIUS +That I would have spoke of: +Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; +Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; +Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way +In all his own desires; nay, let him choose +Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, +My best and freshest men; served his designments +In mine own person; holp to reap the fame +Which he did end all his; and took some pride +To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, +I seem'd his follower, not partner, and +He waged me with his countenance, as if +I had been mercenary. + +First Conspirator +So he did, my lord: +The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last, +When he had carried Rome and that we look'd +For no less spoil than glory,-- + +AUFIDIUS +There was it: +For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. +At a few drops of women's rheum, which are +As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour +Of our great action: therefore shall he die, +And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! + +Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People + +First Conspirator +Your native town you enter'd like a post, +And had no welcomes home: but he returns, +Splitting the air with noise. + +Second Conspirator +And patient fools, +Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear +With giving him glory. + +Third Conspirator +Therefore, at your vantage, +Ere he express himself, or move the people +With what he would say, let him feel your sword, +Which we will second. When he lies along, +After your way his tale pronounced shall bury +His reasons with his body. + +AUFIDIUS +Say no more: +Here come the lords. + +Enter the Lords of the city + +All The Lords +You are most welcome home. + +AUFIDIUS +I have not deserved it. +But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused +What I have written to you? + +Lords +We have. + +First Lord +And grieve to hear't. +What faults he made before the last, I think +Might have found easy fines: but there to end +Where he was to begin and give away +The benefit of our levies, answering us +With our own charge, making a treaty where +There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse. + +AUFIDIUS +He approaches: you shall hear him. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him + +CORIOLANUS +Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier, +No more infected with my country's love +Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting +Under your great command. You are to know +That prosperously I have attempted and +With bloody passage led your wars even to +The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home +Do more than counterpoise a full third part +The charges of the action. We have made peace +With no less honour to the Antiates +Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, +Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, +Together with the seal o' the senate, what +We have compounded on. + +AUFIDIUS +Read it not, noble lords; +But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree +He hath abused your powers. + +CORIOLANUS +Traitor! how now! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, traitor, Marcius! + +CORIOLANUS +Marcius! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think +I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name +Coriolanus in Corioli? +You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously +He has betray'd your business, and given up, +For certain drops of salt, your city Rome, +I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother; +Breaking his oath and resolution like +A twist of rotten silk, never admitting +Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears +He whined and roar'd away your victory, +That pages blush'd at him and men of heart +Look'd wondering each at other. + +CORIOLANUS +Hear'st thou, Mars? + +AUFIDIUS +Name not the god, thou boy of tears! + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! + +AUFIDIUS +No more. + +CORIOLANUS +Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart +Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave! +Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever +I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, +Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-- +Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that +Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join +To thrust the lie unto him. + +First Lord +Peace, both, and hear me speak. + +CORIOLANUS +Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, +Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound! +If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, +That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I +Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: +Alone I did it. Boy! + +AUFIDIUS +Why, noble lords, +Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, +Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, +'Fore your own eyes and ears? + +All Conspirators +Let him die for't. + +All The People +'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd +my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin +Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' + +Second Lord +Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! +The man is noble and his fame folds-in +This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us +Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, +And trouble not the peace. + +CORIOLANUS +O that I had him, +With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, +To use my lawful sword! + +AUFIDIUS +Insolent villain! + +All Conspirators +Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! + +The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body + +Lords +Hold, hold, hold, hold! + +AUFIDIUS +My noble masters, hear me speak. + +First Lord +O Tullus,-- + +Second Lord +Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. + +Third Lord +Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; +Put up your swords. + +AUFIDIUS +My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, +Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger +Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice +That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours +To call me to your senate, I'll deliver +Myself your loyal servant, or endure +Your heaviest censure. + +First Lord +Bear from hence his body; +And mourn you for him: let him be regarded +As the most noble corse that ever herald +Did follow to his urn. + +Second Lord +His own impatience +Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. +Let's make the best of it. + +AUFIDIUS +My rage is gone; +And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. +Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. +Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: +Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he +Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, +Which to this hour bewail the injury, +Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. + +Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded +The Life and Death of Julies Caesar +Shakespeare homepage | Julius Caeser | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners +FLAVIUS +Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: +Is this a holiday? what! know you not, +Being mechanical, you ought not walk +Upon a labouring day without the sign +Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? + +First Commoner +Why, sir, a carpenter. + +MARULLUS +Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? +What dost thou with thy best apparel on? +You, sir, what trade are you? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, +as you would say, a cobbler. + +MARULLUS +But what trade art thou? answer me directly. + +Second Commoner +A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe +conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. + +MARULLUS +What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? + +Second Commoner +Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, +if you be out, sir, I can mend you. + +MARULLUS +What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! + +Second Commoner +Why, sir, cobble you. + +FLAVIUS +Thou art a cobbler, art thou? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I +meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's +matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon +to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I +recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon +neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. + +FLAVIUS +But wherefore art not in thy shop today? +Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself +into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, +to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. + +MARULLUS +Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? +What tributaries follow him to Rome, +To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? +You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! +O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, +Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft +Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, +To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, +Your infants in your arms, and there have sat +The livelong day, with patient expectation, +To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: +And when you saw his chariot but appear, +Have you not made an universal shout, +That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, +To hear the replication of your sounds +Made in her concave shores? +And do you now put on your best attire? +And do you now cull out a holiday? +And do you now strew flowers in his way +That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! +Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, +Pray to the gods to intermit the plague +That needs must light on this ingratitude. + +FLAVIUS +Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, +Assemble all the poor men of your sort; +Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears +Into the channel, till the lowest stream +Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. + +Exeunt all the Commoners + +See whether their basest metal be not moved; +They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. +Go you down that way towards the Capitol; + +This way will I +disrobe the images, +If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. + +MARULLUS +May we do so? +You know it is the feast of Lupercal. + +FLAVIUS +It is no matter; let no images +Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, +And drive away the vulgar from the streets: +So do you too, where you perceive them thick. +These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing +Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, +Who else would soar above the view of men +And keep us all in servile fearfulness. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CASCA +Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. + +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CALPURNIA +Here, my lord. + +CAESAR +Stand you directly in Antonius' way, +When he doth run his course. Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar, my lord? + +CAESAR +Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, +To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, +The barren, touched in this holy chase, +Shake off their sterile curse. + +ANTONY +I shall remember: +When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd. + +CAESAR +Set on; and leave no ceremony out. + +Flourish + +Soothsayer +Caesar! + +CAESAR +Ha! who calls? + +CASCA +Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! + +CAESAR +Who is it in the press that calls on me? +I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, +Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +What man is that? + +BRUTUS +A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +Set him before me; let me see his face. + +CASSIUS +Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar. + +CAESAR +What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. + +Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Will you go see the order of the course? + +BRUTUS +Not I. + +CASSIUS +I pray you, do. + +BRUTUS +I am not gamesome: I do lack some part +Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. +Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; +I'll leave you. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, I do observe you now of late: +I have not from your eyes that gentleness +And show of love as I was wont to have: +You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand +Over your friend that loves you. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, +Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, +I turn the trouble of my countenance +Merely upon myself. Vexed I am +Of late with passions of some difference, +Conceptions only proper to myself, +Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors; +But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-- +Among which number, Cassius, be you one-- +Nor construe any further my neglect, +Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, +Forgets the shows of love to other men. + +CASSIUS +Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; +By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried +Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. +Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, +But by reflection, by some other things. + +CASSIUS +'Tis just: +And it is very much lamented, Brutus, +That you have no such mirrors as will turn +Your hidden worthiness into your eye, +That you might see your shadow. I have heard, +Where many of the best respect in Rome, +Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus +And groaning underneath this age's yoke, +Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, +That you would have me seek into myself +For that which is not in me? + +CASSIUS +Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: +And since you know you cannot see yourself +So well as by reflection, I, your glass, +Will modestly discover to yourself +That of yourself which you yet know not of. +And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: +Were I a common laugher, or did use +To stale with ordinary oaths my love +To every new protester; if you know +That I do fawn on men and hug them hard +And after scandal them, or if you know +That I profess myself in banqueting +To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. + +Flourish, and shout + +BRUTUS +What means this shouting? I do fear, the people +Choose Caesar for their king. + +CASSIUS +Ay, do you fear it? +Then must I think you would not have it so. + +BRUTUS +I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. +But wherefore do you hold me here so long? +What is it that you would impart to me? +If it be aught toward the general good, +Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, +And I will look on both indifferently, +For let the gods so speed me as I love +The name of honour more than I fear death. + +CASSIUS +I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, +As well as I do know your outward favour. +Well, honour is the subject of my story. +I cannot tell what you and other men +Think of this life; but, for my single self, +I had as lief not be as live to be +In awe of such a thing as I myself. +I was born free as Caesar; so were you: +We both have fed as well, and we can both +Endure the winter's cold as well as he: +For once, upon a raw and gusty day, +The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, +Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now +Leap in with me into this angry flood, +And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word, +Accoutred as I was, I plunged in +And bade him follow; so indeed he did. +The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it +With lusty sinews, throwing it aside +And stemming it with hearts of controversy; +But ere we could arrive the point proposed, +Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!' +I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, +Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder +The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber +Did I the tired Caesar. And this man +Is now become a god, and Cassius is +A wretched creature and must bend his body, +If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. +He had a fever when he was in Spain, +And when the fit was on him, I did mark +How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake; +His coward lips did from their colour fly, +And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world +Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: +Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans +Mark him and write his speeches in their books, +Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,' +As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me +A man of such a feeble temper should +So get the start of the majestic world +And bear the palm alone. + +Shout. Flourish + +BRUTUS +Another general shout! +I do believe that these applauses are +For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar. + +CASSIUS +Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world +Like a Colossus, and we petty men +Walk under his huge legs and peep about +To find ourselves dishonourable graves. +Men at some time are masters of their fates: +The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, +But in ourselves, that we are underlings. +Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'? +Why should that name be sounded more than yours? +Write them together, yours is as fair a name; +Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; +Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, +Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. +Now, in the names of all the gods at once, +Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, +That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! +Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! +When went there by an age, since the great flood, +But it was famed with more than with one man? +When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome, +That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? +Now is it Rome indeed and room enough, +When there is in it but one only man. +O, you and I have heard our fathers say, +There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd +The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome +As easily as a king. + +BRUTUS +That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; +What you would work me to, I have some aim: +How I have thought of this and of these times, +I shall recount hereafter; for this present, +I would not, so with love I might entreat you, +Be any further moved. What you have said +I will consider; what you have to say +I will with patience hear, and find a time +Both meet to hear and answer such high things. +Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: +Brutus had rather be a villager +Than to repute himself a son of Rome +Under these hard conditions as this time +Is like to lay upon us. + +CASSIUS +I am glad that my weak words +Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. + +BRUTUS +The games are done and Caesar is returning. + +CASSIUS +As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; +And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you +What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. + +Re-enter CAESAR and his Train + +BRUTUS +I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, +The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, +And all the rest look like a chidden train: +Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero +Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes +As we have seen him in the Capitol, +Being cross'd in conference by some senators. + +CASSIUS +Casca will tell us what the matter is. + +CAESAR +Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar? + +CAESAR +Let me have men about me that are fat; +Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights: +Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; +He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. + +ANTONY +Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous; +He is a noble Roman and well given. + +CAESAR +Would he were fatter! But I fear him not: +Yet if my name were liable to fear, +I do not know the man I should avoid +So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; +He is a great observer and he looks +Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, +As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; +Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort +As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit +That could be moved to smile at any thing. +Such men as he be never at heart's ease +Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, +And therefore are they very dangerous. +I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd +Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. +Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, +And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. + +Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA + +CASCA +You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me? + +BRUTUS +Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, +That Caesar looks so sad. + +CASCA +Why, you were with him, were you not? + +BRUTUS +I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. + +CASCA +Why, there was a crown offered him: and being +offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, +thus; and then the people fell a-shouting. + +BRUTUS +What was the second noise for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +CASSIUS +They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +BRUTUS +Was the crown offered him thrice? + +CASCA +Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every +time gentler than other, and at every putting-by +mine honest neighbours shouted. + +CASSIUS +Who offered him the crown? + +CASCA +Why, Antony. + +BRUTUS +Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. + +CASCA +I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: +it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark +Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown +neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told +you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my +thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he +offered it to him again; then he put it by again: +but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his +fingers off it. And then he offered it the third +time; he put it the third time by: and still as he +refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their +chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps +and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because +Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked +Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and +for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of +opening my lips and receiving the bad air. + +CASSIUS +But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? + +CASCA +He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at +mouth, and was speechless. + +BRUTUS +'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness. + +CASSIUS +No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I, +And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. + +CASCA +I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, +Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not +clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and +displeased them, as they use to do the players in +the theatre, I am no true man. + +BRUTUS +What said he when he came unto himself? + +CASCA +Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the +common herd was glad he refused the crown, he +plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his +throat to cut. An I had been a man of any +occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, +I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so +he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, +If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired +their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three +or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good +soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but +there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had +stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. + +BRUTUS +And after that, he came, thus sad, away? + +CASCA +Ay. + +CASSIUS +Did Cicero say any thing? + +CASCA +Ay, he spoke Greek. + +CASSIUS +To what effect? + +CASCA +Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the +face again: but those that understood him smiled at +one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own +part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more +news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs +off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you +well. There was more foolery yet, if I could +remember it. + +CASSIUS +Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? + +CASCA +No, I am promised forth. + +CASSIUS +Will you dine with me to-morrow? + +CASCA +Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner +worth the eating. + +CASSIUS +Good: I will expect you. + +CASCA +Do so. Farewell, both. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! +He was quick mettle when he went to school. + +CASSIUS +So is he now in execution +Of any bold or noble enterprise, +However he puts on this tardy form. +This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, +Which gives men stomach to digest his words +With better appetite. + +BRUTUS +And so it is. For this time I will leave you: +To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, +I will come home to you; or, if you will, +Come home to me, and I will wait for you. + +CASSIUS +I will do so: till then, think of the world. + +Exit BRUTUS + +Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, +Thy honourable metal may be wrought +From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet +That noble minds keep ever with their likes; +For who so firm that cannot be seduced? +Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: +If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, +He should not humour me. I will this night, +In several hands, in at his windows throw, +As if they came from several citizens, +Writings all tending to the great opinion +That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely +Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at: +And after this let Caesar seat him sure; +For we will shake him, or worse days endure. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The same. A street. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO +CICERO +Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? +Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? + +CASCA +Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth +Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, +I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds +Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen +The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, +To be exalted with the threatening clouds: +But never till to-night, never till now, +Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. +Either there is a civil strife in heaven, +Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, +Incenses them to send destruction. + +CICERO +Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? + +CASCA +A common slave--you know him well by sight-- +Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn +Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand, +Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. +Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword-- +Against the Capitol I met a lion, +Who glared upon me, and went surly by, +Without annoying me: and there were drawn +Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, +Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw +Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. +And yesterday the bird of night did sit +Even at noon-day upon the market-place, +Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies +Do so conjointly meet, let not men say +'These are their reasons; they are natural;' +For, I believe, they are portentous things +Unto the climate that they point upon. + +CICERO +Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: +But men may construe things after their fashion, +Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. +Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow? + +CASCA +He doth; for he did bid Antonius +Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. + +CICERO +Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky +Is not to walk in. + +CASCA +Farewell, Cicero. + +Exit CICERO + +Enter CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Who's there? + +CASCA +A Roman. + +CASSIUS +Casca, by your voice. + +CASCA +Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! + +CASSIUS +A very pleasing night to honest men. + +CASCA +Who ever knew the heavens menace so? + +CASSIUS +Those that have known the earth so full of faults. +For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, +Submitting me unto the perilous night, +And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, +Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; +And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open +The breast of heaven, I did present myself +Even in the aim and very flash of it. + +CASCA +But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? +It is the part of men to fear and tremble, +When the most mighty gods by tokens send +Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. + +CASSIUS +You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life +That should be in a Roman you do want, +Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze +And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, +To see the strange impatience of the heavens: +But if you would consider the true cause +Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, +Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, +Why old men fool and children calculate, +Why all these things change from their ordinance +Their natures and preformed faculties +To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find +That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, +To make them instruments of fear and warning +Unto some monstrous state. +Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man +Most like this dreadful night, +That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars +As doth the lion in the Capitol, +A man no mightier than thyself or me +In personal action, yet prodigious grown +And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. + +CASCA +'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius? + +CASSIUS +Let it be who it is: for Romans now +Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; +But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, +And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; +Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. + +CASCA +Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow +Mean to establish Caesar as a king; +And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, +In every place, save here in Italy. + +CASSIUS +I know where I will wear this dagger then; +Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: +Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; +Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: +Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, +Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, +Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; +But life, being weary of these worldly bars, +Never lacks power to dismiss itself. +If I know this, know all the world besides, +That part of tyranny that I do bear +I can shake off at pleasure. + +Thunder still + +CASCA +So can I: +So every bondman in his own hand bears +The power to cancel his captivity. + +CASSIUS +And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? +Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, +But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: +He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. +Those that with haste will make a mighty fire +Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, +What rubbish and what offal, when it serves +For the base matter to illuminate +So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, +Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this +Before a willing bondman; then I know +My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, +And dangers are to me indifferent. + +CASCA +You speak to Casca, and to such a man +That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: +Be factious for redress of all these griefs, +And I will set this foot of mine as far +As who goes farthest. + +CASSIUS +There's a bargain made. +Now know you, Casca, I have moved already +Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans +To undergo with me an enterprise +Of honourable-dangerous consequence; +And I do know, by this, they stay for me +In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night, +There is no stir or walking in the streets; +And the complexion of the element +In favour's like the work we have in hand, +Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. + +CASCA +Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. + +CASSIUS +'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; +He is a friend. + +Enter CINNA + +Cinna, where haste you so? + +CINNA +To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? + +CASSIUS +No, it is Casca; one incorporate +To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? + +CINNA +I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this! +There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. + +CASSIUS +Am I not stay'd for? tell me. + +CINNA +Yes, you are. +O Cassius, if you could +But win the noble Brutus to our party-- + +CASSIUS +Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, +And look you lay it in the praetor's chair, +Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this +In at his window; set this up with wax +Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done, +Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. +Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? + +CINNA +All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone +To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, +And so bestow these papers as you bade me. + +CASSIUS +That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. + +Exit CINNA + +Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day +See Brutus at his house: three parts of him +Is ours already, and the man entire +Upon the next encounter yields him ours. + +CASCA +O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: +And that which would appear offence in us, +His countenance, like richest alchemy, +Will change to virtue and to worthiness. + +CASSIUS +Him and his worth and our great need of him +You have right well conceited. Let us go, +For it is after midnight; and ere day +We will awake him and be sure of him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard. + +Enter BRUTUS +BRUTUS +What, Lucius, ho! +I cannot, by the progress of the stars, +Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! +I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. +When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius! + +Enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Call'd you, my lord? + +BRUTUS +Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: +When it is lighted, come and call me here. + +LUCIUS +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +It must be by his death: and for my part, +I know no personal cause to spurn at him, +But for the general. He would be crown'd: +How that might change his nature, there's the question. +It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; +And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;-- +And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, +That at his will he may do danger with. +The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins +Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, +I have not known when his affections sway'd +More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, +That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, +Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; +But when he once attains the upmost round. +He then unto the ladder turns his back, +Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees +By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. +Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel +Will bear no colour for the thing he is, +Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, +Would run to these and these extremities: +And therefore think him as a serpent's egg +Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, +And kill him in the shell. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +The taper burneth in your closet, sir. +Searching the window for a flint, I found +This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, +It did not lie there when I went to bed. + +Gives him the letter + +BRUTUS +Get you to bed again; it is not day. +Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? + +LUCIUS +I know not, sir. + +BRUTUS +Look in the calendar, and bring me word. + +LUCIUS +I will, sir. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +The exhalations whizzing in the air +Give so much light that I may read by them. + +Opens the letter and reads + +'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. +Shall Rome, & c. Speak, strike, redress! +Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' +Such instigations have been often dropp'd +Where I have took them up. +'Shall Rome, & c.' Thus must I piece it out: +Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? +My ancestors did from the streets of Rome +The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. +'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated +To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: +If the redress will follow, thou receivest +Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. + +Knocking within + +BRUTUS +'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. + +Exit LUCIUS + +Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, +I have not slept. +Between the acting of a dreadful thing +And the first motion, all the interim is +Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: +The Genius and the mortal instruments +Are then in council; and the state of man, +Like to a little kingdom, suffers then +The nature of an insurrection. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, +Who doth desire to see you. + +BRUTUS +Is he alone? + +LUCIUS +No, sir, there are moe with him. + +BRUTUS +Do you know them? + +LUCIUS +No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, +And half their faces buried in their cloaks, +That by no means I may discover them +By any mark of favour. + +BRUTUS +Let 'em enter. + +Exit LUCIUS + +They are the faction. O conspiracy, +Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, +When evils are most free? O, then by day +Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough +To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; +Hide it in smiles and affability: +For if thou path, thy native semblance on, +Not Erebus itself were dim enough +To hide thee from prevention. + +Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +I think we are too bold upon your rest: +Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? + +BRUTUS +I have been up this hour, awake all night. +Know I these men that come along with you? + +CASSIUS +Yes, every man of them, and no man here +But honours you; and every one doth wish +You had but that opinion of yourself +Which every noble Roman bears of you. +This is Trebonius. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome hither. + +CASSIUS +This, Decius Brutus. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome too. + +CASSIUS +This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. + +BRUTUS +They are all welcome. +What watchful cares do interpose themselves +Betwixt your eyes and night? + +CASSIUS +Shall I entreat a word? + +BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? + +CASCA +No. + +CINNA +O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines +That fret the clouds are messengers of day. + +CASCA +You shall confess that you are both deceived. +Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, +Which is a great way growing on the south, +Weighing the youthful season of the year. +Some two months hence up higher toward the north +He first presents his fire; and the high east +Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. + +BRUTUS +Give me your hands all over, one by one. + +CASSIUS +And let us swear our resolution. + +BRUTUS +No, not an oath: if not the face of men, +The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,-- +If these be motives weak, break off betimes, +And every man hence to his idle bed; +So let high-sighted tyranny range on, +Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, +As I am sure they do, bear fire enough +To kindle cowards and to steel with valour +The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, +What need we any spur but our own cause, +To prick us to redress? what other bond +Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, +And will not palter? and what other oath +Than honesty to honesty engaged, +That this shall be, or we will fall for it? +Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, +Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls +That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear +Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain +The even virtue of our enterprise, +Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, +To think that or our cause or our performance +Did need an oath; when every drop of blood +That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, +Is guilty of a several bastardy, +If he do break the smallest particle +Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. + +CASSIUS +But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? +I think he will stand very strong with us. + +CASCA +Let us not leave him out. + +CINNA +No, by no means. + +METELLUS CIMBER +O, let us have him, for his silver hairs +Will purchase us a good opinion +And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: +It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; +Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, +But all be buried in his gravity. + +BRUTUS +O, name him not: let us not break with him; +For he will never follow any thing +That other men begin. + +CASSIUS +Then leave him out. + +CASCA +Indeed he is not fit. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar? + +CASSIUS +Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, +Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, +Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him +A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, +If he improve them, may well stretch so far +As to annoy us all: which to prevent, +Let Antony and Caesar fall together. + +BRUTUS +Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, +To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, +Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; +For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: +Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. +We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; +And in the spirit of men there is no blood: +O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, +And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, +Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, +Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; +Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, +Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: +And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, +Stir up their servants to an act of rage, +And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make +Our purpose necessary and not envious: +Which so appearing to the common eyes, +We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. +And for Mark Antony, think not of him; +For he can do no more than Caesar's arm +When Caesar's head is off. + +CASSIUS +Yet I fear him; +For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar-- + +BRUTUS +Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: +If he love Caesar, all that he can do +Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: +And that were much he should; for he is given +To sports, to wildness and much company. + +TREBONIUS +There is no fear in him; let him not die; +For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. + +Clock strikes + +BRUTUS +Peace! count the clock. + +CASSIUS +The clock hath stricken three. + +TREBONIUS +'Tis time to part. + +CASSIUS +But it is doubtful yet, +Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no; +For he is superstitious grown of late, +Quite from the main opinion he held once +Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: +It may be, these apparent prodigies, +The unaccustom'd terror of this night, +And the persuasion of his augurers, +May hold him from the Capitol to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Never fear that: if he be so resolved, +I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear +That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, +And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, +Lions with toils and men with flatterers; +But when I tell him he hates flatterers, +He says he does, being then most flattered. +Let me work; +For I can give his humour the true bent, +And I will bring him to the Capitol. + +CASSIUS +Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. + +BRUTUS +By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? + +CINNA +Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, +Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: +I wonder none of you have thought of him. + +BRUTUS +Now, good Metellus, go along by him: +He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; +Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. + +CASSIUS +The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus. +And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember +What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. + +BRUTUS +Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; +Let not our looks put on our purposes, +But bear it as our Roman actors do, +With untired spirits and formal constancy: +And so good morrow to you every one. + +Exeunt all but BRUTUS + +Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; +Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: +Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, +Which busy care draws in the brains of men; +Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. + +Enter PORTIA + +PORTIA +Brutus, my lord! + +BRUTUS +Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? +It is not for your health thus to commit +Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. + +PORTIA +Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, +Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, +You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, +Musing and sighing, with your arms across, +And when I ask'd you what the matter was, +You stared upon me with ungentle looks; +I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, +And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; +Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, +But, with an angry wafture of your hand, +Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; +Fearing to strengthen that impatience +Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal +Hoping it was but an effect of humour, +Which sometime hath his hour with every man. +It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, +And could it work so much upon your shape +As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, +I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, +Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. + +BRUTUS +I am not well in health, and that is all. + +PORTIA +Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, +He would embrace the means to come by it. + +BRUTUS +Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. + +PORTIA +Is Brutus sick? and is it physical +To walk unbraced and suck up the humours +Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, +And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, +To dare the vile contagion of the night +And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air +To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; +You have some sick offence within your mind, +Which, by the right and virtue of my place, +I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, +I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, +By all your vows of love and that great vow +Which did incorporate and make us one, +That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, +Why you are heavy, and what men to-night +Have had to resort to you: for here have been +Some six or seven, who did hide their faces +Even from darkness. + +BRUTUS +Kneel not, gentle Portia. + +PORTIA +I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. +Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, +Is it excepted I should know no secrets +That appertain to you? Am I yourself +But, as it were, in sort or limitation, +To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, +And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs +Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, +Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. + +BRUTUS +You are my true and honourable wife, +As dear to me as are the ruddy drops +That visit my sad heart + +PORTIA +If this were true, then should I know this secret. +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. +Think you I am no stronger than my sex, +Being so father'd and so husbanded? +Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: +I have made strong proof of my constancy, +Giving myself a voluntary wound +Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. +And not my husband's secrets? + +BRUTUS +O ye gods, +Render me worthy of this noble wife! + +Knocking within + +Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; +And by and by thy bosom shall partake +The secrets of my heart. +All my engagements I will construe to thee, +All the charactery of my sad brows: +Leave me with haste. + +Exit PORTIA + +Lucius, who's that knocks? + +Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS + +LUCIUS +He is a sick man that would speak with you. + +BRUTUS +Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. +Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? + +LIGARIUS +Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. + +BRUTUS +O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, +To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! + +LIGARIUS +I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand +Any exploit worthy the name of honour. + +BRUTUS +Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, +Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. + +LIGARIUS +By all the gods that Romans bow before, +I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! +Brave son, derived from honourable loins! +Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up +My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, +And I will strive with things impossible; +Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? + +BRUTUS +A piece of work that will make sick men whole. + +LIGARIUS +But are not some whole that we must make sick? + +BRUTUS +That must we also. What it is, my Caius, +I shall unfold to thee, as we are going +To whom it must be done. + +LIGARIUS +Set on your foot, +And with a heart new-fired I follow you, +To do I know not what: but it sufficeth +That Brutus leads me on. + +BRUTUS +Follow me, then. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. CAESAR's house. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown +CAESAR +Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: +Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, +'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within? + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord? + +CAESAR +Go bid the priests do present sacrifice +And bring me their opinions of success. + +Servant +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +Enter CALPURNIA + +CALPURNIA +What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth? +You shall not stir out of your house to-day. + +CAESAR +Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me +Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see +The face of Caesar, they are vanished. + +CALPURNIA +Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies, +Yet now they fright me. There is one within, +Besides the things that we have heard and seen, +Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. +A lioness hath whelped in the streets; +And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; +Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, +In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, +Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; +The noise of battle hurtled in the air, +Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, +And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. +O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, +And I do fear them. + +CAESAR +What can be avoided +Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? +Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions +Are to the world in general as to Caesar. + +CALPURNIA +When beggars die, there are no comets seen; +The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. + +CAESAR +Cowards die many times before their deaths; +The valiant never taste of death but once. +Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. +It seems to me most strange that men should fear; +Seeing that death, a necessary end, +Will come when it will come. + +Re-enter Servant + +What say the augurers? + +Servant +They would not have you to stir forth to-day. +Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, +They could not find a heart within the beast. + +CAESAR +The gods do this in shame of cowardice: +Caesar should be a beast without a heart, +If he should stay at home to-day for fear. +No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well +That Caesar is more dangerous than he: +We are two lions litter'd in one day, +And I the elder and more terrible: +And Caesar shall go forth. + +CALPURNIA +Alas, my lord, +Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. +Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear +That keeps you in the house, and not your own. +We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house: +And he shall say you are not well to-day: +Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. + +CAESAR +Mark Antony shall say I am not well, +And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. + +Enter DECIUS BRUTUS + +Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar: +I come to fetch you to the senate-house. + +CAESAR +And you are come in very happy time, +To bear my greeting to the senators +And tell them that I will not come to-day: +Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: +I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. + +CALPURNIA +Say he is sick. + +CAESAR +Shall Caesar send a lie? +Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far, +To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth? +Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, +Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so. + +CAESAR +The cause is in my will: I will not come; +That is enough to satisfy the senate. +But for your private satisfaction, +Because I love you, I will let you know: +Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: +She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, +Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, +Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans +Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: +And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, +And evils imminent; and on her knee +Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +This dream is all amiss interpreted; +It was a vision fair and fortunate: +Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +In which so many smiling Romans bathed, +Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck +Reviving blood, and that great men shall press +For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. +This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. + +CAESAR +And this way have you well expounded it. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +I have, when you have heard what I can say: +And know it now: the senate have concluded +To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. +If you shall send them word you will not come, +Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock +Apt to be render'd, for some one to say +'Break up the senate till another time, +When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' +If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper +'Lo, Caesar is afraid'? +Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love +To our proceeding bids me tell you this; +And reason to my love is liable. + +CAESAR +How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! +I am ashamed I did yield to them. +Give me my robe, for I will go. + +Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA + +And look where Publius is come to fetch me. + +PUBLIUS +Good morrow, Caesar. + +CAESAR +Welcome, Publius. +What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? +Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, +Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy +As that same ague which hath made you lean. +What is 't o'clock? + +BRUTUS +Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. + +CAESAR +I thank you for your pains and courtesy. + +Enter ANTONY + +See! Antony, that revels long o' nights, +Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. + +ANTONY +So to most noble Caesar. + +CAESAR +Bid them prepare within: +I am to blame to be thus waited for. +Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! +I have an hour's talk in store for you; +Remember that you call on me to-day: +Be near me, that I may remember you. + +TREBONIUS +Caesar, I will: + +Aside + +and so near will I be, +That your best friends shall wish I had been further. + +CAESAR +Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; +And we, like friends, will straightway go together. + +BRUTUS +[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar, +The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A street near the Capitol. + +Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper +ARTEMIDORUS +'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; +come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not +Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus +loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. +There is but one mind in all these men, and it is +bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, +look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. +The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, +'ARTEMIDORUS.' +Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, +And as a suitor will I give him this. +My heart laments that virtue cannot live +Out of the teeth of emulation. +If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; +If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS. + +Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS +PORTIA +I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; +Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: +Why dost thou stay? + +LUCIUS +To know my errand, madam. + +PORTIA +I would have had thee there, and here again, +Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. +O constancy, be strong upon my side, +Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! +I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. +How hard it is for women to keep counsel! +Art thou here yet? + +LUCIUS +Madam, what should I do? +Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? +And so return to you, and nothing else? + +PORTIA +Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, +For he went sickly forth: and take good note +What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. +Hark, boy! what noise is that? + +LUCIUS +I hear none, madam. + +PORTIA +Prithee, listen well; +I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, +And the wind brings it from the Capitol. + +LUCIUS +Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. + +Enter the Soothsayer + +PORTIA +Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been? + +Soothsayer +At mine own house, good lady. + +PORTIA +What is't o'clock? + +Soothsayer +About the ninth hour, lady. + +PORTIA +Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? + +Soothsayer +Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, +To see him pass on to the Capitol. + +PORTIA +Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not? + +Soothsayer +That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar +To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, +I shall beseech him to befriend himself. + +PORTIA +Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him? + +Soothsayer +None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. +Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: +The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, +Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, +Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: +I'll get me to a place more void, and there +Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. + +Exit + +PORTIA +I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing +The heart of woman is! O Brutus, +The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! +Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit +That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. +Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; +Say I am merry: come to me again, +And bring me word what he doth say to thee. + +Exeunt severally + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. + +A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others +CAESAR +[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come. + +Soothsayer +Ay, Caesar; but not gone. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Hail, Caesar! read this schedule. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, +At your best leisure, this his humble suit. + +ARTEMIDORUS +O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit +That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar. + +CAESAR +What touches us ourself shall be last served. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly. + +CAESAR +What, is the fellow mad? + +PUBLIUS +Sirrah, give place. + +CASSIUS +What, urge you your petitions in the street? +Come to the Capitol. + +CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following + +POPILIUS +I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. + +CASSIUS +What enterprise, Popilius? + +POPILIUS +Fare you well. + +Advances to CAESAR + +BRUTUS +What said Popilius Lena? + +CASSIUS +He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. +I fear our purpose is discovered. + +BRUTUS +Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him. + +CASSIUS +Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. +Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, +Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, +For I will slay myself. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, be constant: +Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; +For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. + +CASSIUS +Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus. +He draws Mark Antony out of the way. + +Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, +And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. + +BRUTUS +He is address'd: press near and second him. + +CINNA +Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. + +CAESAR +Are we all ready? What is now amiss +That Caesar and his senate must redress? + +METELLUS CIMBER +Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, +Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat +An humble heart,-- + +Kneeling + +CAESAR +I must prevent thee, Cimber. +These couchings and these lowly courtesies +Might fire the blood of ordinary men, +And turn pre-ordinance and first decree +Into the law of children. Be not fond, +To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood +That will be thaw'd from the true quality +With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, +Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. +Thy brother by decree is banished: +If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, +I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. +Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause +Will he be satisfied. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Is there no voice more worthy than my own +To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear +For the repealing of my banish'd brother? + +BRUTUS +I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; +Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may +Have an immediate freedom of repeal. + +CAESAR +What, Brutus! + +CASSIUS +Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: +As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, +To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. + +CASSIUS +I could be well moved, if I were as you: +If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: +But I am constant as the northern star, +Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality +There is no fellow in the firmament. +The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, +They are all fire and every one doth shine, +But there's but one in all doth hold his place: +So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, +And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; +Yet in the number I do know but one +That unassailable holds on his rank, +Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, +Let me a little show it, even in this; +That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, +And constant do remain to keep him so. + +CINNA +O Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Great Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? + +CASCA +Speak, hands for me! + +CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR + +CAESAR +Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar. + +Dies + +CINNA +Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! +Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. + +CASSIUS +Some to the common pulpits, and cry out +'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!' + +BRUTUS +People and senators, be not affrighted; +Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid. + +CASCA +Go to the pulpit, Brutus. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +And Cassius too. + +BRUTUS +Where's Publius? + +CINNA +Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's +Should chance-- + +BRUTUS +Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; +There is no harm intended to your person, +Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. + +CASSIUS +And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, +Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. + +BRUTUS +Do so: and let no man abide this deed, +But we the doers. + +Re-enter TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +Where is Antony? + +TREBONIUS +Fled to his house amazed: +Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run +As it were doomsday. + +BRUTUS +Fates, we will know your pleasures: +That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time +And drawing days out, that men stand upon. + +CASSIUS +Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life +Cuts off so many years of fearing death. + +BRUTUS +Grant that, and then is death a benefit: +So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged +His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, +And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood +Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: +Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, +And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, +Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' + +CASSIUS +Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence +Shall this our lofty scene be acted over +In states unborn and accents yet unknown! + +BRUTUS +How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, +That now on Pompey's basis lies along +No worthier than the dust! + +CASSIUS +So oft as that shall be, +So often shall the knot of us be call'd +The men that gave their country liberty. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +What, shall we forth? + +CASSIUS +Ay, every man away: +Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels +With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. + +Enter a Servant + +BRUTUS +Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. + +Servant +Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: +Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; +And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: +Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; +Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: +Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; +Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him. +If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony +May safely come to him, and be resolved +How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, +Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead +So well as Brutus living; but will follow +The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus +Thorough the hazards of this untrod state +With all true faith. So says my master Antony. + +BRUTUS +Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; +I never thought him worse. +Tell him, so please him come unto this place, +He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, +Depart untouch'd. + +Servant +I'll fetch him presently. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +I know that we shall have him well to friend. + +CASSIUS +I wish we may: but yet have I a mind +That fears him much; and my misgiving still +Falls shrewdly to the purpose. + +BRUTUS +But here comes Antony. + +Re-enter ANTONY + +Welcome, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? +Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, +Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. +I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, +Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: +If I myself, there is no hour so fit +As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument +Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich +With the most noble blood of all this world. +I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, +Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, +Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, +I shall not find myself so apt to die: +No place will please me so, no mean of death, +As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, +The choice and master spirits of this age. + +BRUTUS +O Antony, beg not your death of us. +Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, +As, by our hands and this our present act, +You see we do, yet see you but our hands +And this the bleeding business they have done: +Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; +And pity to the general wrong of Rome-- +As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-- +Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, +To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: +Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts +Of brothers' temper, do receive you in +With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. + +CASSIUS +Your voice shall be as strong as any man's +In the disposing of new dignities. + +BRUTUS +Only be patient till we have appeased +The multitude, beside themselves with fear, +And then we will deliver you the cause, +Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, +Have thus proceeded. + +ANTONY +I doubt not of your wisdom. +Let each man render me his bloody hand: +First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; +Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; +Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; +Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; +Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. +Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say? +My credit now stands on such slippery ground, +That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, +Either a coward or a flatterer. +That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true: +If then thy spirit look upon us now, +Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, +To see thy thy Anthony making his peace, +Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, +Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? +Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, +Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, +It would become me better than to close +In terms of friendship with thine enemies. +Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; +Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, +Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe. +O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; +And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. +How like a deer, strucken by many princes, +Dost thou here lie! + +CASSIUS +Mark Antony,-- + +ANTONY +Pardon me, Caius Cassius: +The enemies of Caesar shall say this; +Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. + +CASSIUS +I blame you not for praising Caesar so; +But what compact mean you to have with us? +Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; +Or shall we on, and not depend on you? + +ANTONY +Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, +Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. +Friends am I with you all and love you all, +Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons +Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. + +BRUTUS +Or else were this a savage spectacle: +Our reasons are so full of good regard +That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, +You should be satisfied. + +ANTONY +That's all I seek: +And am moreover suitor that I may +Produce his body to the market-place; +And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, +Speak in the order of his funeral. + +BRUTUS +You shall, Mark Antony. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, a word with you. + +Aside to BRUTUS + +You know not what you do: do not consent +That Antony speak in his funeral: +Know you how much the people may be moved +By that which he will utter? + +BRUTUS +By your pardon; +I will myself into the pulpit first, +And show the reason of our Caesar's death: +What Antony shall speak, I will protest +He speaks by leave and by permission, +And that we are contented Caesar shall +Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. +It shall advantage more than do us wrong. + +CASSIUS +I know not what may fall; I like it not. + +BRUTUS +Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. +You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, +But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, +And say you do't by our permission; +Else shall you not have any hand at all +About his funeral: and you shall speak +In the same pulpit whereto I am going, +After my speech is ended. + +ANTONY +Be it so. +I do desire no more. + +BRUTUS +Prepare the body then, and follow us. + +Exeunt all but ANTONY + +ANTONY +O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, +That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! +Thou art the ruins of the noblest man +That ever lived in the tide of times. +Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! +Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-- +Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, +To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue-- +A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; +Domestic fury and fierce civil strife +Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; +Blood and destruction shall be so in use +And dreadful objects so familiar +That mothers shall but smile when they behold +Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war; +All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: +And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, +With Ate by his side come hot from hell, +Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice +Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; +That this foul deed shall smell above the earth +With carrion men, groaning for burial. + +Enter a Servant + +You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? + +Servant +I do, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. + +Servant +He did receive his letters, and is coming; +And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- +O Caesar!-- + +Seeing the body + +ANTONY +Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. +Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, +Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, +Began to water. Is thy master coming? + +Servant +He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. + +ANTONY +Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: +Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, +No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; +Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; +Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse +Into the market-place: there shall I try +In my oration, how the people take +The cruel issue of these bloody men; +According to the which, thou shalt discourse +To young Octavius of the state of things. +Lend me your hand. + +Exeunt with CAESAR's body + +SCENE II. The Forum. + +Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens +Citizens +We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied. + +BRUTUS +Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. +Cassius, go you into the other street, +And part the numbers. +Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; +Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; +And public reasons shall be rendered +Of Caesar's death. + +King Lear +Shakespeare homepage | King Lear | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. King Lear's palace. + +Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND +KENT +I thought the king had more affected the Duke of +Albany than Cornwall. + +GLOUCESTER +It did always seem so to us: but now, in the +division of the kingdom, it appears not which of +the dukes he values most; for equalities are so +weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice +of either's moiety. + +KENT +Is not this your son, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have +so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am +brazed to it. + +KENT +I cannot conceive you. + +GLOUCESTER +Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon +she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son +for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. +Do you smell a fault? + +KENT +I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it +being so proper. + +GLOUCESTER +But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year +elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: +though this knave came something saucily into the +world before he was sent for, yet was his mother +fair; there was good sport at his making, and the +whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this +noble gentleman, Edmund? + +EDMUND +No, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my +honourable friend. + +EDMUND +My services to your lordship. + +KENT +I must love you, and sue to know you better. + +EDMUND +Sir, I shall study deserving. + +GLOUCESTER +He hath been out nine years, and away he shall +again. The king is coming. + +Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. + +GLOUCESTER +I shall, my liege. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND + +KING LEAR +Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. +Give me the map there. Know that we have divided +In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent +To shake all cares and business from our age; +Conferring them on younger strengths, while we +Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, +And you, our no less loving son of Albany, +We have this hour a constant will to publish +Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife +May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, +Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, +Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, +And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,-- +Since now we will divest us both of rule, +Interest of territory, cares of state,-- +Which of you shall we say doth love us most? +That we our largest bounty may extend +Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, +Our eldest-born, speak first. + +GONERIL +Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; +Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; +Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; +No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; +As much as child e'er loved, or father found; +A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; +Beyond all manner of so much I love you. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] What shall Cordelia do? +Love, and be silent. + +LEAR +Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, +With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, +With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, +We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue +Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, +Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak. + +REGAN +Sir, I am made +Of the self-same metal that my sister is, +And prize me at her worth. In my true heart +I find she names my very deed of love; +Only she comes too short: that I profess +Myself an enemy to all other joys, +Which the most precious square of sense possesses; +And find I am alone felicitate +In your dear highness' love. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] Then poor Cordelia! +And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's +More richer than my tongue. + +KING LEAR +To thee and thine hereditary ever +Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; +No less in space, validity, and pleasure, +Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy, +Although the last, not least; to whose young love +The vines of France and milk of Burgundy +Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw +A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. + +CORDELIA +Nothing, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Nothing! + +CORDELIA +Nothing. + +KING LEAR +Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. + +CORDELIA +Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave +My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty +According to my bond; nor more nor less. + +KING LEAR +How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, +Lest it may mar your fortunes. + +CORDELIA +Good my lord, +You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I +Return those duties back as are right fit, +Obey you, love you, and most honour you. +Why have my sisters husbands, if they say +They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, +That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry +Half my love with him, half my care and duty: +Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, +To love my father all. + +KING LEAR +But goes thy heart with this? + +CORDELIA +Ay, good my lord. + +KING LEAR +So young, and so untender? + +CORDELIA +So young, my lord, and true. + +KING LEAR +Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower: +For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, +The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; +By all the operation of the orbs +From whom we do exist, and cease to be; +Here I disclaim all my paternal care, +Propinquity and property of blood, +And as a stranger to my heart and me +Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, +Or he that makes his generation messes +To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom +Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved, +As thou my sometime daughter. + +KENT +Good my liege,-- + +KING LEAR +Peace, Kent! +Come not between the dragon and his wrath. +I loved her most, and thought to set my rest +On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight! +So be my grave my peace, as here I give +Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs? +Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany, +With my two daughters' dowers digest this third: +Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. +I do invest you jointly with my power, +Pre-eminence, and all the large effects +That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, +With reservation of an hundred knights, +By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode +Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain +The name, and all the additions to a king; +The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, +Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, +This coronet part betwixt you. + +Giving the crown + +KENT +Royal Lear, +Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, +Loved as my father, as my master follow'd, +As my great patron thought on in my prayers,-- + +KING LEAR +The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft. + +KENT +Let it fall rather, though the fork invade +The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, +When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man? +Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, +When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound, +When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; +And, in thy best consideration, cheque +This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment, +Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; +Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound +Reverbs no hollowness. + +KING LEAR +Kent, on thy life, no more. + +KENT +My life I never held but as a pawn +To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it, +Thy safety being the motive. + +KING LEAR +Out of my sight! + +KENT +See better, Lear; and let me still remain +The true blank of thine eye. + +KING LEAR +Now, by Apollo,-- + +KENT +Now, by Apollo, king, +Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. + +KING LEAR +O, vassal! miscreant! + +Laying his hand on his sword + +ALBANY CORNWALL +Dear sir, forbear. + +KENT +Do: +Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow +Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom; +Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, +I'll tell thee thou dost evil. + +KING LEAR +Hear me, recreant! +On thine allegiance, hear me! +Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow, +Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride +To come between our sentence and our power, +Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, +Our potency made good, take thy reward. +Five days we do allot thee, for provision +To shield thee from diseases of the world; +And on the sixth to turn thy hated back +Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following, +Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, +The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter, +This shall not be revoked. + +KENT +Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, +Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. + +To CORDELIA + +The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, +That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said! + +To REGAN and GONERIL + +And your large speeches may your deeds approve, +That good effects may spring from words of love. +Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; +He'll shape his old course in a country new. + +Exit + +Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants + +GLOUCESTER +Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. + +KING LEAR +My lord of Burgundy. +We first address towards you, who with this king +Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least, +Will you require in present dower with her, +Or cease your quest of love? + +BURGUNDY +Most royal majesty, +I crave no more than what your highness offer'd, +Nor will you tender less. + +KING LEAR +Right noble Burgundy, +When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; +But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands: +If aught within that little seeming substance, +Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, +And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, +She's there, and she is yours. + +BURGUNDY +I know no answer. + +KING LEAR +Will you, with those infirmities she owes, +Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, +Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath, +Take her, or leave her? + +BURGUNDY +Pardon me, royal sir; +Election makes not up on such conditions. + +KING LEAR +Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, +I tell you all her wealth. + +To KING OF FRANCE + +For you, great king, +I would not from your love make such a stray, +To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you +To avert your liking a more worthier way +Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed +Almost to acknowledge hers. + +KING OF FRANCE +This is most strange, +That she, that even but now was your best object, +The argument of your praise, balm of your age, +Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time +Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle +So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence +Must be of such unnatural degree, +That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection +Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her, +Must be a faith that reason without miracle +Could never plant in me. + +CORDELIA +I yet beseech your majesty,-- +If for I want that glib and oily art, +To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, +I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known +It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, +No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, +That hath deprived me of your grace and favour; +But even for want of that for which I am richer, +A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue +As I am glad I have not, though not to have it +Hath lost me in your liking. + +KING LEAR +Better thou +Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better. + +KING OF FRANCE +Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature +Which often leaves the history unspoke +That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, +What say you to the lady? Love's not love +When it is mingled with regards that stand +Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? +She is herself a dowry. + +BURGUNDY +Royal Lear, +Give but that portion which yourself proposed, +And here I take Cordelia by the hand, +Duchess of Burgundy. + +KING LEAR +Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. + +BURGUNDY +I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father +That you must lose a husband. + +CORDELIA +Peace be with Burgundy! +Since that respects of fortune are his love, +I shall not be his wife. + +KING OF FRANCE +Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; +Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! +Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: +Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. +Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect +My love should kindle to inflamed respect. +Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, +Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: +Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy +Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. +Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: +Thou losest here, a better where to find. + +KING LEAR +Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we +Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see +That face of hers again. Therefore be gone +Without our grace, our love, our benison. +Come, noble Burgundy. + +Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA + +KING OF FRANCE +Bid farewell to your sisters. + +CORDELIA +The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes +Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; +And like a sister am most loath to call +Your faults as they are named. Use well our father: +To your professed bosoms I commit him +But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, +I would prefer him to a better place. +So, farewell to you both. + +REGAN +Prescribe not us our duties. + +GONERIL +Let your study +Be to content your lord, who hath received you +At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, +And well are worth the want that you have wanted. + +CORDELIA +Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: +Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. +Well may you prosper! + +KING OF FRANCE +Come, my fair Cordelia. + +Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA + +GONERIL +Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what +most nearly appertains to us both. I think our +father will hence to-night. + +REGAN +That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. + +GONERIL +You see how full of changes his age is; the +observation we have made of it hath not been +little: he always loved our sister most; and +with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off +appears too grossly. + +REGAN +'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever +but slenderly known himself. + +GONERIL +The best and soundest of his time hath been but +rash; then must we look to receive from his age, +not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed +condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness +that infirm and choleric years bring with them. + +REGAN +Such unconstant starts are we like to have from +him as this of Kent's banishment. + +GONERIL +There is further compliment of leavetaking +between France and him. Pray you, let's hit +together: if our father carry authority with +such dispositions as he bears, this last +surrender of his will but offend us. + +REGAN +We shall further think on't. + +GONERIL +We must do something, and i' the heat. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, with a letter +EDMUND +Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law +My services are bound. Wherefore should I +Stand in the plague of custom, and permit +The curiosity of nations to deprive me, +For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines +Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? +When my dimensions are as well compact, +My mind as generous, and my shape as true, +As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us +With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? +Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take +More composition and fierce quality +Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, +Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, +Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then, +Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: +Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund +As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate! +Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, +And my invention thrive, Edmund the base +Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: +Now, gods, stand up for bastards! + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted! +And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! +Confined to exhibition! All this done +Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news? + +EDMUND +So please your lordship, none. + +Putting up the letter + +GLOUCESTER +Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? + +EDMUND +I know no news, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +What paper were you reading? + +EDMUND +Nothing, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of +it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath +not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come, +if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. + +EDMUND +I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter +from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; +and for so much as I have perused, I find it not +fit for your o'er-looking. + +GLOUCESTER +Give me the letter, sir. + +EDMUND +I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The +contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. + +GLOUCESTER +Let's see, let's see. + +EDMUND +I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote +this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'This policy and reverence of age makes +the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps +our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish +them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage +in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not +as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to +me, that of this I may speak more. If our father +would sleep till I waked him, you should half his +revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your +brother, EDGAR.' +Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you +should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar! +Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain +to breed it in?--When came this to you? who +brought it? + +EDMUND +It was not brought me, my lord; there's the +cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the +casement of my closet. + +GLOUCESTER +You know the character to be your brother's? + +EDMUND +If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear +it were his; but, in respect of that, I would +fain think it were not. + +GLOUCESTER +It is his. + +EDMUND +It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is +not in the contents. + +GLOUCESTER +Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business? + +EDMUND +Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft +maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, +and fathers declining, the father should be as +ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue. + +GLOUCESTER +O villain, villain! His very opinion in the +letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, +brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, +seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain! +Where is he? + +EDMUND +I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please +you to suspend your indignation against my +brother till you can derive from him better +testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain +course; where, if you violently proceed against +him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great +gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the +heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life +for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my +affection to your honour, and to no further +pretence of danger. + +GLOUCESTER +Think you so? + +EDMUND +If your honour judge it meet, I will place you +where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an +auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and +that without any further delay than this very evening. + +GLOUCESTER +He cannot be such a monster-- + +EDMUND +Nor is not, sure. + +GLOUCESTER +To his father, that so tenderly and entirely +loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him +out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the +business after your own wisdom. I would unstate +myself, to be in a due resolution. + +EDMUND +I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the +business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal. + +GLOUCESTER +These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend +no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can +reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself +scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, +friendship falls off, brothers divide: in +cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in +palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son +and father. This villain of mine comes under the +prediction; there's son against father: the king +falls from bias of nature; there's father against +child. We have seen the best of our time: +machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all +ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our +graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall +lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the +noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his +offence, honesty! 'Tis strange. + +Exit + +EDMUND +This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, +when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit +of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our +disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as +if we were villains by necessity; fools by +heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and +treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, +liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of +planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, +by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion +of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish +disposition to the charge of a star! My +father compounded with my mother under the +dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa +major; so that it follows, I am rough and +lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, +had the maidenliest star in the firmament +twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar-- + +Enter EDGAR + +And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old +comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a +sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do +portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi. + +EDGAR +How now, brother Edmund! what serious +contemplation are you in? + +EDMUND +I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read +this other day, what should follow these eclipses. + +EDGAR +Do you busy yourself about that? + +EDMUND +I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed +unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child +and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of +ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and +maledictions against king and nobles; needless +diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation +of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. + +EDGAR +How long have you been a sectary astronomical? + +EDMUND +Come, come; when saw you my father last? + +EDGAR +Why, the night gone by. + +EDMUND +Spake you with him? + +EDGAR +Ay, two hours together. + +EDMUND +Parted you in good terms? Found you no +displeasure in him by word or countenance? + +EDGAR +None at all. + +EDMUND +Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended +him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence +till some little time hath qualified the heat of +his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth +in him, that with the mischief of your person it +would scarcely allay. + +EDGAR +Some villain hath done me wrong. + +EDMUND +That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent +forbearance till the spied of his rage goes +slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my +lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to +hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key: +if you do stir abroad, go armed. + +EDGAR +Armed, brother! + +EDMUND +Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I +am no honest man if there be any good meaning +towards you: I have told you what I have seen +and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image +and horror of it: pray you, away. + +EDGAR +Shall I hear from you anon? + +EDMUND +I do serve you in this business. + +Exit EDGAR + +A credulous father! and a brother noble, +Whose nature is so far from doing harms, +That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty +My practises ride easy! I see the business. +Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: +All with me's meet that I can fashion fit. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace. + +Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward +GONERIL +Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +By day and night he wrongs me; every hour +He flashes into one gross crime or other, +That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it: +His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us +On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, +I will not speak with him; say I am sick: +If you come slack of former services, +You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. + +OSWALD +He's coming, madam; I hear him. + +Horns within + +GONERIL +Put on what weary negligence you please, +You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question: +If he dislike it, let him to our sister, +Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, +Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man, +That still would manage those authorities +That he hath given away! Now, by my life, +Old fools are babes again; and must be used +With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused. +Remember what I tell you. + +OSWALD +Well, madam. + +GONERIL +And let his knights have colder looks among you; +What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: +I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, +That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister, +To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in the same. + +Enter KENT, disguised +KENT +If but as well I other accents borrow, +That can my speech defuse, my good intent +May carry through itself to that full issue +For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent, +If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd, +So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest, +Shall find thee full of labours. + +Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. + +Exit an Attendant + +How now! what art thou? + +KENT +A man, sir. + +KING LEAR +What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us? + +KENT +I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve +him truly that will put me in trust: to love him +that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, +and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I +cannot choose; and to eat no fish. + +KING LEAR +What art thou? + +KENT +A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. + +KING LEAR +If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a +king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? + +KENT +Service. + +KING LEAR +Who wouldst thou serve? + +KENT +You. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou know me, fellow? + +KENT +No, sir; but you have that in your countenance +which I would fain call master. + +KING LEAR +What's that? + +KENT +Authority. + +KING LEAR +What services canst thou do? + +KENT +I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious +tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message +bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am +qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. + +KING LEAR +How old art thou? + +KENT +Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor +so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years +on my back forty eight. + +KING LEAR +Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no +worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. +Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? +Go you, and call my fool hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +Enter OSWALD + +You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? + +OSWALD +So please you,-- + +Exit + +KING LEAR +What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. + +Exit a Knight + +Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep. + +Re-enter Knight + +How now! where's that mongrel? + +Knight +He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. + +KING LEAR +Why came not the slave back to me when I called him. + +Knight +Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would +not. + +KING LEAR +He would not! + +Knight +My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my +judgment, your highness is not entertained with that +ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a +great abatement of kindness appears as well in the +general dependants as in the duke himself also and +your daughter. + +KING LEAR +Ha! sayest thou so? + +Knight +I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; +for my duty cannot be silent when I think your +highness wronged. + +KING LEAR +Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I +have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I +have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity +than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: +I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I +have not seen him this two days. + +Knight +Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the +fool hath much pined away. + +KING LEAR +No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and +tell my daughter I would speak with her. + +Exit an Attendant + +Go you, call hither my fool. + +Exit an Attendant + +Re-enter OSWALD + +O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, +sir? + +OSWALD +My lady's father. + +KING LEAR +'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your +whoreson dog! you slave! you cur! + +OSWALD +I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon. + +KING LEAR +Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? + +Striking him + +OSWALD +I'll not be struck, my lord. + +KENT +Nor tripped neither, you base football player. + +Tripping up his heels + +KING LEAR +I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll +love thee. + +KENT +Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: +away, away! if you will measure your lubber's +length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you +wisdom? so. + +Pushes OSWALD out + +KING LEAR +Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's +earnest of thy service. + +Giving KENT money + +Enter Fool + +Fool +Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb. + +Offering KENT his cap + +KING LEAR +How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou? + +Fool +Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. + +KENT +Why, fool? + +Fool +Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour: +nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, +thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: +why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters, +and did the third a blessing against his will; if +thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. +How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters! + +KING LEAR +Why, my boy? + +Fool +If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs +myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters. + +KING LEAR +Take heed, sirrah; the whip. + +Fool +Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped +out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink. + +KING LEAR +A pestilent gall to me! + +Fool +Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. + +KING LEAR +Do. + +Fool +Mark it, nuncle: +Have more than thou showest, +Speak less than thou knowest, +Lend less than thou owest, +Ride more than thou goest, +Learn more than thou trowest, +Set less than thou throwest; +Leave thy drink and thy whore, +And keep in-a-door, +And thou shalt have more +Than two tens to a score. + +KENT +This is nothing, fool. + +Fool +Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you +gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of +nothing, nuncle? + +KING LEAR +Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing. + +Fool +[To KENT] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of +his land comes to: he will not believe a fool. + +KING LEAR +A bitter fool! + +Fool +Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a +bitter fool and a sweet fool? + +KING LEAR +No, lad; teach me. + +Fool +That lord that counsell'd thee +To give away thy land, +Come place him here by me, +Do thou for him stand: +The sweet and bitter fool +Will presently appear; +The one in motley here, +The other found out there. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou call me fool, boy? + +Fool +All thy other titles thou hast given away; that +thou wast born with. + +KENT +This is not altogether fool, my lord. + +Fool +No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if +I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: +and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool +to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg, +nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns. + +KING LEAR +What two crowns shall they be? + +Fool +Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat +up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou +clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away +both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er +the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, +when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak +like myself in this, let him be whipped that first +finds it so. + +Singing + +Fools had ne'er less wit in a year; +For wise men are grown foppish, +They know not how their wits to wear, +Their manners are so apish. + +KING LEAR +When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? + +Fool +I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy +daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them +the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches, + +Singing + +Then they for sudden joy did weep, +And I for sorrow sung, +That such a king should play bo-peep, +And go the fools among. +Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach +thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie. + +KING LEAR +An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. + +Fool +I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: +they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt +have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am +whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any +kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be +thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, +and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o' +the parings. + +Enter GONERIL + +KING LEAR +How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? +Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown. + +Fool +Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to +care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a +figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, +thou art nothing. + +To GONERIL + +Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face +bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, +He that keeps nor crust nor crum, +Weary of all, shall want some. + +Pointing to KING LEAR + +That's a shealed peascod. + +GONERIL +Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, +But other of your insolent retinue +Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth +In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir, +I had thought, by making this well known unto you, +To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful, +By what yourself too late have spoke and done. +That you protect this course, and put it on +By your allowance; which if you should, the fault +Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, +Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, +Might in their working do you that offence, +Which else were shame, that then necessity +Will call discreet proceeding. + +Fool +For, you trow, nuncle, +The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, +That it's had it head bit off by it young. +So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling. + +KING LEAR +Are you our daughter? + +GONERIL +Come, sir, +I would you would make use of that good wisdom, +Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away +These dispositions, that of late transform you +From what you rightly are. + +Fool +May not an ass know when the cart +draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee. + +KING LEAR +Doth any here know me? This is not Lear: +Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes? +Either his notion weakens, his discernings +Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so. +Who is it that can tell me who I am? + +Fool +Lear's shadow. + +KING LEAR +I would learn that; for, by the +marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, +I should be false persuaded I had daughters. + +Fool +Which they will make an obedient father. + +KING LEAR +Your name, fair gentlewoman? + +GONERIL +This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour +Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you +To understand my purposes aright: +As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. +Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; +Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold, +That this our court, infected with their manners, +Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust +Make it more like a tavern or a brothel +Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak +For instant remedy: be then desired +By her, that else will take the thing she begs, +A little to disquantity your train; +And the remainder, that shall still depend, +To be such men as may besort your age, +And know themselves and you. + +KING LEAR +Darkness and devils! +Saddle my horses; call my train together: +Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee. +Yet have I left a daughter. + +GONERIL +You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble +Make servants of their betters. + +Enter ALBANY + +KING LEAR +Woe, that too late repents,-- + +To ALBANY + +O, sir, are you come? +Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses. +Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, +More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child +Than the sea-monster! + +ALBANY +Pray, sir, be patient. + +KING LEAR +[To GONERIL] Detested kite! thou liest. +My train are men of choice and rarest parts, +That all particulars of duty know, +And in the most exact regard support +The worships of their name. O most small fault, +How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! +That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature +From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love, +And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! +Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, + +Striking his head + +And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people. + +ALBANY +My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant +Of what hath moved you. + +KING LEAR +It may be so, my lord. +Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! +Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend +To make this creature fruitful! +Into her womb convey sterility! +Dry up in her the organs of increase; +And from her derogate body never spring +A babe to honour her! If she must teem, +Create her child of spleen; that it may live, +And be a thwart disnatured torment to her! +Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; +With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; +Turn all her mother's pains and benefits +To laughter and contempt; that she may feel +How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is +To have a thankless child! Away, away! + +Exit + +ALBANY +Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? + +GONERIL +Never afflict yourself to know the cause; +But let his disposition have that scope +That dotage gives it. + +Re-enter KING LEAR + +KING LEAR +What, fifty of my followers at a clap! +Within a fortnight! + +ALBANY +What's the matter, sir? + +KING LEAR +I'll tell thee: + +To GONERIL + +Life and death! I am ashamed +That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; +That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, +Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! +The untented woundings of a father's curse +Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, +Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out, +And cast you, with the waters that you lose, +To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this? +Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter, +Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: +When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails +She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find +That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think +I have cast off for ever: thou shalt, +I warrant thee. + +Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants + +GONERIL +Do you mark that, my lord? + +ALBANY +I cannot be so partial, Goneril, +To the great love I bear you,-- + +GONERIL +Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho! + +To the Fool + +You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. + +Fool +Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool +with thee. +A fox, when one has caught her, +And such a daughter, +Should sure to the slaughter, +If my cap would buy a halter: +So the fool follows after. + +Exit + +GONERIL +This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights! +'Tis politic and safe to let him keep +At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream, +Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, +He may enguard his dotage with their powers, +And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say! + +ALBANY +Well, you may fear too far. + +GONERIL +Safer than trust too far: +Let me still take away the harms I fear, +Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. +What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister +If she sustain him and his hundred knights +When I have show'd the unfitness,-- + +Re-enter OSWALD + +How now, Oswald! +What, have you writ that letter to my sister? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +Take you some company, and away to horse: +Inform her full of my particular fear; +And thereto add such reasons of your own +As may compact it more. Get you gone; +And hasten your return. + +Exit OSWALD + +No, no, my lord, +This milky gentleness and course of yours +Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, +You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom +Than praised for harmful mildness. + +ALBANY +How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell: +Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. + +GONERIL +Nay, then-- + +ALBANY +Well, well; the event. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Court before the same. + +Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool +KING LEAR +Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. +Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you +know than comes from her demand out of the letter. +If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you. + +KENT +I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered +your letter. + +Exit + +Fool +If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in +danger of kibes? + +KING LEAR +Ay, boy. + +Fool +Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go +slip-shod. + +KING LEAR +Ha, ha, ha! + +Fool +Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; +for though she's as like this as a crab's like an +apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. + +KING LEAR +Why, what canst thou tell, my boy? + +Fool +She will taste as like this as a crab does to a +crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' +the middle on's face? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that +what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. + +KING LEAR +I did her wrong-- + +Fool +Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house. + +KING LEAR +Why? + +Fool +Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his +daughters, and leave his horns without a case. + +KING LEAR +I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my +horses ready? + +Fool +Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the +seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason. + +KING LEAR +Because they are not eight? + +Fool +Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool. + +KING LEAR +To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude! + +Fool +If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten +for being old before thy time. + +KING LEAR +How's that? + +Fool +Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst +been wise. + +KING LEAR +O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven +Keep me in temper: I would not be mad! + +Enter Gentleman + +How now! are the horses ready? + +Gentleman +Ready, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Come, boy. + +Fool +She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure, +Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. GLOUCESTER's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him +EDMUND +Save thee, Curan. + +CURAN +And you, sir. I have been with your father, and +given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan +his duchess will be here with him this night. + +EDMUND +How comes that? + +CURAN +Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; +I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but +ear-kissing arguments? + +EDMUND +Not I pray you, what are they? + +CURAN +Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the +Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? + +EDMUND +Not a word. + +CURAN +You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. + +Exit + +EDMUND +The duke be here to-night? The better! best! +This weaves itself perforce into my business. +My father hath set guard to take my brother; +And I have one thing, of a queasy question, +Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work! +Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say! + +Enter EDGAR + +My father watches: O sir, fly this place; +Intelligence is given where you are hid; +You have now the good advantage of the night: +Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? +He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste, +And Regan with him: have you nothing said +Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? +Advise yourself. + +EDGAR +I am sure on't, not a word. + +EDMUND +I hear my father coming: pardon me: +In cunning I must draw my sword upon you +Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. +Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! +Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell. + +Exit EDGAR + +Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion. + +Wounds his arm + +Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards +Do more than this in sport. Father, father! +Stop, stop! No help? + +Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches + +GLOUCESTER +Now, Edmund, where's the villain? + +EDMUND +Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, +Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon +To stand auspicious mistress,-- + +GLOUCESTER +But where is he? + +EDMUND +Look, sir, I bleed. + +GLOUCESTER +Where is the villain, Edmund? + +EDMUND +Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could-- + +GLOUCESTER +Pursue him, ho! Go after. + +Exeunt some Servants + +By no means what? + +EDMUND +Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; +But that I told him, the revenging gods +'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; +Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond +The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, +Seeing how loathly opposite I stood +To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, +With his prepared sword, he charges home +My unprovided body, lanced mine arm: +But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, +Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter, +Or whether gasted by the noise I made, +Full suddenly he fled. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him fly far: +Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; +And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master, +My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: +By his authority I will proclaim it, +That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, +Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; +He that conceals him, death. + +EDMUND +When I dissuaded him from his intent, +And found him pight to do it, with curst speech +I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, +'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, +If I would stand against thee, would the reposal +Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee +Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,-- +As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce +My very character,--I'ld turn it all +To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise: +And thou must make a dullard of the world, +If they not thought the profits of my death +Were very pregnant and potential spurs +To make thee seek it.' + +GLOUCESTER +Strong and fasten'd villain +Would he deny his letter? I never got him. + +Tucket within + +Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. +All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; +The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture +I will send far and near, that all the kingdom +May have the due note of him; and of my land, +Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means +To make thee capable. + +Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants + +CORNWALL +How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, +Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. + +REGAN +If it be true, all vengeance comes too short +Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd! + +REGAN +What, did my father's godson seek your life? +He whom my father named? your Edgar? + +GLOUCESTER +O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! + +REGAN +Was he not companion with the riotous knights +That tend upon my father? + +GLOUCESTER +I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad. + +EDMUND +Yes, madam, he was of that consort. + +REGAN +No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: +'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, +To have the expense and waste of his revenues. +I have this present evening from my sister +Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, +That if they come to sojourn at my house, +I'll not be there. + +CORNWALL +Nor I, assure thee, Regan. +Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father +A child-like office. + +EDMUND +'Twas my duty, sir. + +GLOUCESTER +He did bewray his practise; and received +This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. + +CORNWALL +Is he pursued? + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my good lord. + +CORNWALL +If he be taken, he shall never more +Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, +How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, +Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant +So much commend itself, you shall be ours: +Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; +You we first seize on. + +EDMUND +I shall serve you, sir, +Truly, however else. + +GLOUCESTER +For him I thank your grace. + +CORNWALL +You know not why we came to visit you,-- + +REGAN +Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night: +Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, +Wherein we must have use of your advice: +Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, +Of differences, which I least thought it fit +To answer from our home; the several messengers +From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, +Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow +Your needful counsel to our business, +Which craves the instant use. + +GLOUCESTER +I serve you, madam: +Your graces are right welcome. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before Gloucester's castle. + +Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally +OSWALD +Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? + +KENT +Ay. + +OSWALD +Where may we set our horses? + +KENT +I' the mire. + +OSWALD +Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. + +KENT +I love thee not. + +OSWALD +Why, then, I care not for thee. + +KENT +If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee +care for me. + +OSWALD +Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. + +KENT +Fellow, I know thee. + +OSWALD +What dost thou know me for? + +KENT +A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a +base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, +hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a +lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, +glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; +one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a +bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but +the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, +and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I +will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest +the least syllable of thy addition. + +The Tragedy of Macbeth +Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A desert place. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches +First Witch +When shall we three meet again +In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + +Second Witch +When the hurlyburly's done, +When the battle's lost and won. + +Third Witch +That will be ere the set of sun. + +First Witch +Where the place? + +Second Witch +Upon the heath. + +Third Witch +There to meet with Macbeth. + +First Witch +I come, Graymalkin! + +Second Witch +Paddock calls. + +Third Witch +Anon. + +ALL +Fair is foul, and foul is fair: +Hover through the fog and filthy air. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A camp near Forres. + +Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant +DUNCAN +What bloody man is that? He can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt +The newest state. + +MALCOLM +This is the sergeant +Who like a good and hardy soldier fought +'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! +Say to the king the knowledge of the broil +As thou didst leave it. + +Sergeant +Doubtful it stood; +As two spent swimmers, that do cling together +And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- +Worthy to be a rebel, for to that +The multiplying villanies of nature +Do swarm upon him--from the western isles +Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; +And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, +Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: +For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- +Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, +Which smoked with bloody execution, +Like valour's minion carved out his passage +Till he faced the slave; +Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, +Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, +And fix'd his head upon our battlements. + +DUNCAN +O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! + +Sergeant +As whence the sun 'gins his reflection +Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, +So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come +Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: +No sooner justice had with valour arm'd +Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, +But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, +With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men +Began a fresh assault. + +DUNCAN +Dismay'd not this +Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? + +Sergeant +Yes; +As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they +Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: +Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, +Or memorise another Golgotha, +I cannot tell. +But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. + +DUNCAN +So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; +They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. + +Exit Sergeant, attended + +Who comes here? + +Enter ROSS + +MALCOLM +The worthy thane of Ross. + +LENNOX +What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look +That seems to speak things strange. + +ROSS +God save the king! + +DUNCAN +Whence camest thou, worthy thane? + +ROSS +From Fife, great king; +Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky +And fan our people cold. Norway himself, +With terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyal traitor +The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; +Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, +Confronted him with self-comparisons, +Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. +Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, +The victory fell on us. + +DUNCAN +Great happiness! + +ROSS +That now +Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: +Nor would we deign him burial of his men +Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch +Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + +DUNCAN +No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive +Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, +And with his former title greet Macbeth. + +ROSS +I'll see it done. + +DUNCAN +What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A heath near Forres. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Where hast thou been, sister? + +Second Witch +Killing swine. + +Third Witch +Sister, where thou? + +First Witch +A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, +And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- +'Give me,' quoth I: +'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. +Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: +But in a sieve I'll thither sail, +And, like a rat without a tail, +I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + +Second Witch +I'll give thee a wind. + +First Witch +Thou'rt kind. + +Third Witch +And I another. + +First Witch +I myself have all the other, +And the very ports they blow, +All the quarters that they know +I' the shipman's card. +I will drain him dry as hay: +Sleep shall neither night nor day +Hang upon his pent-house lid; +He shall live a man forbid: +Weary se'nnights nine times nine +Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: +Though his bark cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be tempest-tost. +Look what I have. + +Second Witch +Show me, show me. + +First Witch +Here I have a pilot's thumb, +Wreck'd as homeward he did come. + +Drum within + +Third Witch +A drum, a drum! +Macbeth doth come. + +ALL +The weird sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the sea and land, +Thus do go about, about: +Thrice to thine and thrice to mine +And thrice again, to make up nine. +Peace! the charm's wound up. + +Enter MACBETH and BANQUO + +MACBETH +So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + +BANQUO +How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these +So wither'd and so wild in their attire, +That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, +And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught +That man may question? You seem to understand me, +By each at once her chappy finger laying +Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, +And yet your beards forbid me to interpret +That you are so. + +MACBETH +Speak, if you can: what are you? + +First Witch +All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! + +Second Witch +All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! + +Third Witch +All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! + +BANQUO +Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear +Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, +Are ye fantastical, or that indeed +Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner +You greet with present grace and great prediction +Of noble having and of royal hope, +That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. +If you can look into the seeds of time, +And say which grain will grow and which will not, +Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear +Your favours nor your hate. + +First Witch +Hail! + +Second Witch +Hail! + +Third Witch +Hail! + +First Witch +Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. + +Second Witch +Not so happy, yet much happier. + +Third Witch +Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: +So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + +First Witch +Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + +MACBETH +Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: +By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; +But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, +A prosperous gentleman; and to be king +Stands not within the prospect of belief, +No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange intelligence? or why +Upon this blasted heath you stop our way +With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. + +Witches vanish + +BANQUO +The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, +And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? + +MACBETH +Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted +As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! + +BANQUO +Were such things here as we do speak about? +Or have we eaten on the insane root +That takes the reason prisoner? + +MACBETH +Your children shall be kings. + +BANQUO +You shall be king. + +MACBETH +And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + +BANQUO +To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? + +Enter ROSS and ANGUS + +ROSS +The king hath happily received, Macbeth, +The news of thy success; and when he reads +Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, +His wonders and his praises do contend +Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, +In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, +He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, +Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, +Strange images of death. As thick as hail +Came post with post; and every one did bear +Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, +And pour'd them down before him. + +ANGUS +We are sent +To give thee from our royal master thanks; +Only to herald thee into his sight, +Not pay thee. + +ROSS +And, for an earnest of a greater honour, +He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: +In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! +For it is thine. + +BANQUO +What, can the devil speak true? + +MACBETH +The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me +In borrow'd robes? + +ANGUS +Who was the thane lives yet; +But under heavy judgment bears that life +Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined +With those of Norway, or did line the rebel +With hidden help and vantage, or that with both +He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; +But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, +Have overthrown him. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! +The greatest is behind. + +To ROSS and ANGUS + +Thanks for your pains. + +To BANQUO + +Do you not hope your children shall be kings, +When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me +Promised no less to them? + +BANQUO +That trusted home +Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, +Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: +And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, +The instruments of darkness tell us truths, +Win us with honest trifles, to betray's +In deepest consequence. +Cousins, a word, I pray you. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Two truths are told, +As happy prologues to the swelling act +Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. + +Aside + +Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, +Why hath it given me earnest of success, +Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: +If good, why do I yield to that suggestion +Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair +And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, +Against the use of nature? Present fears +Are less than horrible imaginings: +My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, +Shakes so my single state of man that function +Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is +But what is not. + +BANQUO +Look, how our partner's rapt. + +MACBETH +[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, +Without my stir. + +BANQUO +New horrors come upon him, +Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould +But with the aid of use. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Come what come may, +Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + +BANQUO +Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + +MACBETH +Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought +With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains +Are register'd where every day I turn +The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. +Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, +The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak +Our free hearts each to other. + +BANQUO +Very gladly. + +MACBETH +Till then, enough. Come, friends. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants +DUNCAN +Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not +Those in commission yet return'd? + +MALCOLM +My liege, +They are not yet come back. But I have spoke +With one that saw him die: who did report +That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, +Implored your highness' pardon and set forth +A deep repentance: nothing in his life +Became him like the leaving it; he died +As one that had been studied in his death +To throw away the dearest thing he owed, +As 'twere a careless trifle. + +DUNCAN +There's no art +To find the mind's construction in the face: +He was a gentleman on whom I built +An absolute trust. + +Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS + +O worthiest cousin! +The sin of my ingratitude even now +Was heavy on me: thou art so far before +That swiftest wing of recompense is slow +To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, +That the proportion both of thanks and payment +Might have been mine! only I have left to say, +More is thy due than more than all can pay. + +MACBETH +The service and the loyalty I owe, +In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part +Is to receive our duties; and our duties +Are to your throne and state children and servants, +Which do but what they should, by doing every thing +Safe toward your love and honour. + +DUNCAN +Welcome hither: +I have begun to plant thee, and will labour +To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, +That hast no less deserved, nor must be known +No less to have done so, let me enfold thee +And hold thee to my heart. + +BANQUO +There if I grow, +The harvest is your own. + +DUNCAN +My plenteous joys, +Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves +In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know +We will establish our estate upon +Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter +The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must +Not unaccompanied invest him only, +But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine +On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, +And bind us further to you. + +MACBETH +The rest is labour, which is not used for you: +I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful +The hearing of my wife with your approach; +So humbly take my leave. + +DUNCAN +My worthy Cawdor! + +MACBETH +[Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step +On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, +For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; +Let not light see my black and deep desires: +The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, +Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. + +Exit + +DUNCAN +True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, +And in his commendations I am fed; +It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, +Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: +It is a peerless kinsman. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. + +Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter +LADY MACBETH +'They met me in the day of success: and I have +learned by the perfectest report, they have more in +them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire +to question them further, they made themselves air, +into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in +the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who +all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, +before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred +me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that +shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver +thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou +mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being +ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it +to thy heart, and farewell.' +Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be +What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; +It is too full o' the milk of human kindness +To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; +Art not without ambition, but without +The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, +That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, +And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, +That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; +And that which rather thou dost fear to do +Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, +That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; +And chastise with the valour of my tongue +All that impedes thee from the golden round, +Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem +To have thee crown'd withal. + +Enter a Messenger + +What is your tidings? + +Messenger +The king comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Thou'rt mad to say it: +Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, +Would have inform'd for preparation. + +Messenger +So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: +One of my fellows had the speed of him, +Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Than would make up his message. + +LADY MACBETH +Give him tending; +He brings great news. + +Exit Messenger + +The raven himself is hoarse +That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan +Under my battlements. Come, you spirits +That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, +And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full +Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; +Stop up the access and passage to remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between +The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, +And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, +Wherever in your sightless substances +You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, +That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, +Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, +To cry 'Hold, hold!' + +Enter MACBETH + +Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! +Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! +Thy letters have transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feel now +The future in the instant. + +MACBETH +My dearest love, +Duncan comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +And when goes hence? + +MACBETH +To-morrow, as he purposes. + +LADY MACBETH +O, never +Shall sun that morrow see! +Your face, my thane, is as a book where men +May read strange matters. To beguile the time, +Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, +Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, +But be the serpent under't. He that's coming +Must be provided for: and you shall put +This night's great business into my dispatch; +Which shall to all our nights and days to come +Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. + +MACBETH +We will speak further. + +LADY MACBETH +Only look up clear; +To alter favour ever is to fear: +Leave all the rest to me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants +DUNCAN +This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air +Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself +Unto our gentle senses. + +BANQUO +This guest of summer, +The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, +By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath +Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, +Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird +Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: +Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, +The air is delicate. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +DUNCAN +See, see, our honour'd hostess! +The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you +How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, +And thank us for your trouble. + +LADY MACBETH +All our service +In every point twice done and then done double +Were poor and single business to contend +Against those honours deep and broad wherewith +Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, +And the late dignities heap'd up to them, +We rest your hermits. + +DUNCAN +Where's the thane of Cawdor? +We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose +To be his purveyor: but he rides well; +And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him +To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, +We are your guest to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Your servants ever +Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, +To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, +Still to return your own. + +DUNCAN +Give me your hand; +Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, +And shall continue our graces towards him. +By your leave, hostess. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH +MACBETH +If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well +It were done quickly: if the assassination +Could trammel up the consequence, and catch +With his surcease success; that but this blow +Might be the be-all and the end-all here, +But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, +We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases +We still have judgment here; that we but teach +Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return +To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice +Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice +To our own lips. He's here in double trust; +First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, +Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, +Who should against his murderer shut the door, +Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been +So clear in his great office, that his virtues +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against +The deep damnation of his taking-off; +And pity, like a naked new-born babe, +Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed +Upon the sightless couriers of the air, +Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, +That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur +To prick the sides of my intent, but only +Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself +And falls on the other. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +How now! what news? + +LADY MACBETH +He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + +MACBETH +Hath he ask'd for me? + +LADY MACBETH +Know you not he has? + +MACBETH +We will proceed no further in this business: +He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought +Golden opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, +Not cast aside so soon. + +LADY MACBETH +Was the hope drunk +Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? +And wakes it now, to look so green and pale +At what it did so freely? From this time +Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard +To be the same in thine own act and valour +As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that +Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, +And live a coward in thine own esteem, +Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' +Like the poor cat i' the adage? + +MACBETH +Prithee, peace: +I dare do all that may become a man; +Who dares do more is none. + +LADY MACBETH +What beast was't, then, +That made you break this enterprise to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man; +And, to be more than what you were, you would +Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place +Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: +They have made themselves, and that their fitness now +Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know +How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: +I would, while it was smiling in my face, +Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, +And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you +Have done to this. + +MACBETH +If we should fail? + +LADY MACBETH +We fail! +But screw your courage to the sticking-place, +And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-- +Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey +Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains +Will I with wine and wassail so convince +That memory, the warder of the brain, +Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason +A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep +Their drenched natures lie as in a death, +What cannot you and I perform upon +The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon +His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt +Of our great quell? + +MACBETH +Bring forth men-children only; +For thy undaunted mettle should compose +Nothing but males. Will it not be received, +When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two +Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, +That they have done't? + +LADY MACBETH +Who dares receive it other, +As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar +Upon his death? + +MACBETH +I am settled, and bend up +Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show: +False face must hide what the false heart doth know. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him +BANQUO +How goes the night, boy? + +FLEANCE +The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. + +BANQUO +And she goes down at twelve. + +FLEANCE +I take't, 'tis later, sir. + +BANQUO +Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; +Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. +A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, +And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, +Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature +Gives way to in repose! + +Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch + +Give me my sword. +Who's there? + +MACBETH +A friend. + +BANQUO +What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: +He hath been in unusual pleasure, and +Sent forth great largess to your offices. +This diamond he greets your wife withal, +By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up +In measureless content. + +MACBETH +Being unprepared, +Our will became the servant to defect; +Which else should free have wrought. + +BANQUO +All's well. +I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: +To you they have show'd some truth. + +MACBETH +I think not of them: +Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, +We would spend it in some words upon that business, +If you would grant the time. + +BANQUO +At your kind'st leisure. + +MACBETH +If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, +It shall make honour for you. + +BANQUO +So I lose none +In seeking to augment it, but still keep +My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, +I shall be counsell'd. + +MACBETH +Good repose the while! + +BANQUO +Thanks, sir: the like to you! + +Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE + +MACBETH +Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, +She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. + +Exit Servant + +Is this a dagger which I see before me, +The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. +I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible +To feeling as to sight? or art thou but +A dagger of the mind, a false creation, +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? +I see thee yet, in form as palpable +As this which now I draw. +Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; +And such an instrument I was to use. +Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, +Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, +And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, +Which was not so before. There's no such thing: +It is the bloody business which informs +Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld +Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse +The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates +Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, +Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, +Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. +With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design +Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, +Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear +Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: +Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. + +A bell rings + +I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. +Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell +That summons thee to heaven or to hell. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter LADY MACBETH +LADY MACBETH +That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; +What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. +Hark! Peace! +It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, +Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: +The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms +Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd +their possets, +That death and nature do contend about them, +Whether they live or die. + +MACBETH +[Within] Who's there? what, ho! + +LADY MACBETH +Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, +And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed +Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; +He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled +My father as he slept, I had done't. + +Enter MACBETH + +My husband! + +MACBETH +I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + +LADY MACBETH +I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. +Did not you speak? + +MACBETH +When? + +LADY MACBETH +Now. + +MACBETH +As I descended? + +LADY MACBETH +Ay. + +MACBETH +Hark! +Who lies i' the second chamber? + +LADY MACBETH +Donalbain. + +MACBETH +This is a sorry sight. + +Looking on his hands + +LADY MACBETH +A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + +MACBETH +There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried +'Murder!' +That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: +But they did say their prayers, and address'd them +Again to sleep. + +LADY MACBETH +There are two lodged together. + +MACBETH +One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; +As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. +Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' +When they did say 'God bless us!' + +LADY MACBETH +Consider it not so deeply. + +MACBETH +But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? +I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' +Stuck in my throat. + +LADY MACBETH +These deeds must not be thought +After these ways; so, it will make us mad. + +MACBETH +Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! +Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, +Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, +The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, +Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, +Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- + +LADY MACBETH +What do you mean? + +MACBETH +Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: +'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor +Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' + +LADY MACBETH +Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, +You do unbend your noble strength, to think +So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, +And wash this filthy witness from your hand. +Why did you bring these daggers from the place? +They must lie there: go carry them; and smear +The sleepy grooms with blood. + +MACBETH +I'll go no more: +I am afraid to think what I have done; +Look on't again I dare not. + +LADY MACBETH +Infirm of purpose! +Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead +Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood +That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, +I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; +For it must seem their guilt. + +Exit. Knocking within + +MACBETH +Whence is that knocking? +How is't with me, when every noise appals me? +What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes. +Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood +Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather +The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, +Making the green one red. + +Re-enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +My hands are of your colour; but I shame +To wear a heart so white. + +Knocking within + +I hear a knocking +At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; +A little water clears us of this deed: +How easy is it, then! Your constancy +Hath left you unattended. + +Knocking within + +Hark! more knocking. +Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, +And show us to be watchers. Be not lost +So poorly in your thoughts. + +MACBETH +To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. + +Knocking within + +Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. + +Knocking within. Enter a Porter +Porter +Here's a knocking indeed! If a +man were porter of hell-gate, he should have +old turning the key. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of +Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged +himself on the expectation of plenty: come in +time; have napkins enow about you; here +you'll sweat for't. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock! Who's there, in the other devil's +name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could +swear in both the scales against either scale; +who committed treason enough for God's sake, +yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come +in, equivocator. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an +English tailor come hither, for stealing out of +a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may +roast your goose. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock; never at quiet! What are you? But +this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter +it no further: I had thought to have let in +some of all professions that go the primrose +way to the everlasting bonfire. + +Knocking within + +Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. + +Opens the gate + +Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX + +MACDUFF +Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, +That you do lie so late? + +Porter +'Faith sir, we were carousing till the +second cock: and drink, sir, is a great +provoker of three things. + +MACDUFF +What three things does drink especially provoke? + +Porter +Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and +urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; +it provokes the desire, but it takes +away the performance: therefore, much drink +may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: +it makes him, and it mars him; it sets +him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, +and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and +not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him +in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. + +MACDUFF +I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. + +Porter +That it did, sir, i' the very throat on +me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I +think, being too strong for him, though he took +up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast +him. + +MACDUFF +Is thy master stirring? + +Enter MACBETH + +Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. + +LENNOX +Good morrow, noble sir. + +MACBETH +Good morrow, both. + +MACDUFF +Is the king stirring, worthy thane? + +MACBETH +Not yet. + +MACDUFF +He did command me to call timely on him: +I have almost slipp'd the hour. + +MACBETH +I'll bring you to him. + +MACDUFF +I know this is a joyful trouble to you; +But yet 'tis one. + +MACBETH +The labour we delight in physics pain. +This is the door. + +MACDUFF +I'll make so bold to call, +For 'tis my limited service. + +Exit + +LENNOX +Goes the king hence to-day? + +MACBETH +He does: he did appoint so. + +LENNOX +The night has been unruly: where we lay, +Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, +Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, +And prophesying with accents terrible +Of dire combustion and confused events +New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird +Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth +Was feverous and did shake. + +MACBETH +'Twas a rough night. + +LENNOX +My young remembrance cannot parallel +A fellow to it. + +Re-enter MACDUFF + +MACDUFF +O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart +Cannot conceive nor name thee! + +MACBETH LENNOX +What's the matter. + +MACDUFF +Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! +Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope +The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence +The life o' the building! + +MACBETH +What is 't you say? the life? + +LENNOX +Mean you his majesty? + +MACDUFF +Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; +See, and then speak yourselves. + +Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX + +Awake, awake! +Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! +Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! +Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, +And look on death itself! up, up, and see +The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! +As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, +To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. + +Bell rings + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +What's the business, +That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! + +MACDUFF +O gentle lady, +'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: +The repetition, in a woman's ear, +Would murder as it fell. + +Enter BANQUO + +O Banquo, Banquo, +Our royal master 's murder'd! + +LADY MACBETH +Woe, alas! +What, in our house? + +BANQUO +Too cruel any where. +Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, +And say it is not so. + +Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS + +MACBETH +Had I but died an hour before this chance, +I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, +There 's nothing serious in mortality: +All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; +The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees +Is left this vault to brag of. + +Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN + +DONALBAIN +What is amiss? + +MACBETH +You are, and do not know't: +The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood +Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. + +MACDUFF +Your royal father 's murder'd. + +MALCOLM +O, by whom? + +LENNOX +Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: +Their hands and faces were an badged with blood; +So were their daggers, which unwiped we found +Upon their pillows: +They stared, and were distracted; no man's life +Was to be trusted with them. + +MACBETH +O, yet I do repent me of my fury, +That I did kill them. + +MACDUFF +Wherefore did you so? + +MACBETH +Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, +Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: +The expedition my violent love +Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, +His silver skin laced with his golden blood; +And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature +For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, +Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers +Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, +That had a heart to love, and in that heart +Courage to make 's love kno wn? + +LADY MACBETH +Help me hence, ho! + +MACDUFF +Look to the lady. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues, +That most may claim this argument for ours? + +DONALBAIN +[Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here, +where our fate, +Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? +Let 's away; +Our tears are not yet brew'd. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow +Upon the foot of motion. + +BANQUO +Look to the lady: + +LADY MACBETH is carried out + +And when we have our naked frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure, let us meet, +And question this most bloody piece of work, +To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: +In the great hand of God I stand; and thence +Against the undivulged pretence I fight +Of treasonous malice. + +MACDUFF +And so do I. + +ALL +So all. + +MACBETH +Let's briefly put on manly readiness, +And meet i' the hall together. + +ALL +Well contented. + +Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. + +MALCOLM +What will you do? Let's not consort with them: +To show an unfelt sorrow is an office +Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. + +DONALBAIN +To Ireland, I; our separated fortune +Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, +There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, +The nearer bloody. + +MALCOLM +This murderous shaft that's shot +Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way +Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; +And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, +But shift away: there's warrant in that theft +Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. + +Enter ROSS and an old Man +Old Man +Threescore and ten I can remember well: +Within the volume of which time I have seen +Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night +Hath trifled former knowings. + +ROSS +Ah, good father, +Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, +Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, +And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: +Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, +That darkness does the face of earth entomb, +When living light should kiss it? + +Old Man +'Tis unnatural, +Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, +A falcon, towering in her pride of place, +Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. + +ROSS +And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- +Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, +Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, +Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make +War with mankind. + +Old Man +'Tis said they eat each other. + +ROSS +They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes +That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. + +Enter MACDUFF + +How goes the world, sir, now? + +MACDUFF +Why, see you not? + +ROSS +Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? + +MACDUFF +Those that Macbeth hath slain. + +ROSS +Alas, the day! +What good could they pretend? + +MACDUFF +They were suborn'd: +Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, +Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them +Suspicion of the deed. + +ROSS +'Gainst nature still! +Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up +Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like +The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + +MACDUFF +He is already named, and gone to Scone +To be invested. + +ROSS +Where is Duncan's body? + +MACDUFF +Carried to Colmekill, +The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, +And guardian of their bones. + +ROSS +Will you to Scone? + +MACDUFF +No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + +ROSS +Well, I will thither. + +MACDUFF +Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! +Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! + +ROSS +Farewell, father. + +Old Man +God's benison go with you; and with those +That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Forres. The palace. + +Enter BANQUO +BANQUO +Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, +As the weird women promised, and, I fear, +Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said +It should not stand in thy posterity, +But that myself should be the root and father +Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- +As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- +Why, by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my oracles as well, +And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. + +Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants + +MACBETH +Here's our chief guest. + +LADY MACBETH +If he had been forgotten, +It had been as a gap in our great feast, +And all-thing unbecoming. + +MACBETH +To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, +And I'll request your presence. + +BANQUO +Let your highness +Command upon me; to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tie +For ever knit. + +MACBETH +Ride you this afternoon? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +We should have else desired your good advice, +Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, +In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. +Is't far you ride? + +BANQUO +As far, my lord, as will fill up the time +'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the night +For a dark hour or twain. + +MACBETH +Fail not our feast. + +BANQUO +My lord, I will not. + +MACBETH +We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd +In England and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers +With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, +When therewithal we shall have cause of state +Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, +Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. + +MACBETH +I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; +And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. + +Exit BANQUO + +Let every man be master of his time +Till seven at night: to make society +The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself +Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant + +Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men +Our pleasure? + +ATTENDANT +They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + +MACBETH +Bring them before us. + +Exit Attendant + +To be thus is nothing; +But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo +Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature +Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; +And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, +He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour +To act in safety. There is none but he +Whose being I do fear: and, under him, +My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, +Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters +When first they put the name of king upon me, +And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like +They hail'd him father to a line of kings: +Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, +And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, +Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, +No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, +For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; +For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; +Put rancours in the vessel of my peace +Only for them; and mine eternal jewel +Given to the common enemy of man, +To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! +Rather than so, come fate into the list. +And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! + +Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers + +Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. + +Exit Attendant + +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + +First Murderer +It was, so please your highness. + +MACBETH +Well then, now +Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know +That it was he in the times past which held you +So under fortune, which you thought had been +Our innocent self: this I made good to you +In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, +How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, +the instruments, +Who wrought with them, and all things else that might +To half a soul and to a notion crazed +Say 'Thus did Banquo.' + +First Murderer +You made it known to us. + +MACBETH +I did so, and went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. Do you find +Your patience so predominant in your nature +That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd +To pray for this good man and for his issue, +Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave +And beggar'd yours for ever? + +First Murderer +We are men, my liege. + +MACBETH +Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; +As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, +Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept +All by the name of dogs: the valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The housekeeper, the hunter, every one +According to the gift which bounteous nature +Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive +Particular addition. from the bill +That writes them all alike: and so of men. +Now, if you have a station in the file, +Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; +And I will put that business in your bosoms, +Whose execution takes your enemy off, +Grapples you to the heart and love of us, +Who wear our health but sickly in his life, +Which in his death were perfect. + +Second Murderer +I am one, my liege, +Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world +Have so incensed that I am reckless what +I do to spite the world. + +First Murderer +And I another +So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, +That I would set my lie on any chance, +To mend it, or be rid on't. + +MACBETH +Both of you +Know Banquo was your enemy. + +Both Murderers +True, my lord. + +MACBETH +So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, +That every minute of his being thrusts +Against my near'st of life: and though I could +With barefaced power sweep him from my sight +And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, +For certain friends that are both his and mine, +Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall +Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, +That I to your assistance do make love, +Masking the business from the common eye +For sundry weighty reasons. + +Second Murderer +We shall, my lord, +Perform what you command us. + +First Murderer +Though our lives-- + +MACBETH +Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most +I will advise you where to plant yourselves; +Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, +The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, +And something from the palace; always thought +That I require a clearness: and with him-- +To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- +Fleance his son, that keeps him company, +Whose absence is no less material to me +Than is his father's, must embrace the fate +Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: +I'll come to you anon. + +Both Murderers +We are resolved, my lord. + +MACBETH +I'll call upon you straight: abide within. + +Exeunt Murderers + +It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, +If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant +LADY MACBETH +Is Banquo gone from court? + +Servant +Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Say to the king, I would attend his leisure +For a few words. + +Servant +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +LADY MACBETH +Nought's had, all's spent, +Where our desire is got without content: +'Tis safer to be that which we destroy +Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. + +Enter MACBETH + +How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, +Of sorriest fancies your companions making, +Using those thoughts which should indeed have died +With them they think on? Things without all remedy +Should be without regard: what's done is done. + +MACBETH +We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: +She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice +Remains in danger of her former tooth. +But let the frame of things disjoint, both the +worlds suffer, +Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep +In the affliction of these terrible dreams +That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, +Than on the torture of the mind to lie +In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; +After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; +Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, +Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, +Can touch him further. + +LADY MACBETH +Come on; +Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; +Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. + +MACBETH +So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: +Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; +Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: +Unsafe the while, that we +Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, +And make our faces vizards to our hearts, +Disguising what they are. + +LADY MACBETH +You must leave this. + +MACBETH +O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! +Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. + +LADY MACBETH +But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + +MACBETH +There's comfort yet; they are assailable; +Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown +His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons +The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums +Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done +A deed of dreadful note. + +LADY MACBETH +What's to be done? + +MACBETH +Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, +Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; +And with thy bloody and invisible hand +Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond +Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow +Makes wing to the rooky wood: +Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; +While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. +Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; +Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. +So, prithee, go with me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A park near the palace. + +Enter three Murderers +First Murderer +But who did bid thee join with us? + +Third Murderer +Macbeth. + +Second Murderer +He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers +Our offices and what we have to do +To the direction just. + +First Murderer +Then stand with us. +The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: +Now spurs the lated traveller apace +To gain the timely inn; and near approaches +The subject of our watch. + +Third Murderer +Hark! I hear horses. + +BANQUO +[Within] Give us a light there, ho! + +Second Murderer +Then 'tis he: the rest +That are within the note of expectation +Already are i' the court. + +First Murderer +His horses go about. + +Third Murderer +Almost a mile: but he does usually, +So all men do, from hence to the palace gate +Make it their walk. + +Second Murderer +A light, a light! + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch + +Third Murderer +'Tis he. + +First Murderer +Stand to't. + +BANQUO +It will be rain to-night. + +First Murderer +Let it come down. + +They set upon BANQUO + +BANQUO +O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! +Thou mayst revenge. O slave! + +Dies. FLEANCE escapes + +Third Murderer +Who did strike out the light? + +First Murderer +Wast not the way? + +Third Murderer +There's but one down; the son is fled. + +Second Murderer +We have lost +Best half of our affair. + +First Murderer +Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. + +A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants +MACBETH +You know your own degrees; sit down: at first +And last the hearty welcome. + +Lords +Thanks to your majesty. + +MACBETH +Ourself will mingle with society, +And play the humble host. +Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time +We will require her welcome. + +LADY MACBETH +Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; +For my heart speaks they are welcome. + +First Murderer appears at the door + +MACBETH +See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. +Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: +Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure +The table round. + +Approaching the door + +There's blood on thy face. + +First Murderer +'Tis Banquo's then. + +MACBETH +'Tis better thee without than he within. +Is he dispatch'd? + +First Murderer +My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. + +MACBETH +Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good +That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, +Thou art the nonpareil. + +First Murderer +Most royal sir, +Fleance is 'scaped. + +MACBETH +Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, +Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, +As broad and general as the casing air: +But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in +To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? + +First Murderer +Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head; +The least a death to nature. + +MACBETH +Thanks for that: +There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled +Hath nature that in time will venom breed, +No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow +We'll hear, ourselves, again. + +Exit Murderer + +LADY MACBETH +My royal lord, +You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold +That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, +'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; +From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; +Meeting were bare without it. + +MACBETH +Sweet remembrancer! +Now, good digestion wait on appetite, +And health on both! + +LENNOX +May't please your highness sit. + +The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place + +MACBETH +Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, +Were the graced person of our Banquo present; +Who may I rather challenge for unkindness +Than pity for mischance! + +ROSS +His absence, sir, +Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness +To grace us with your royal company. + +MACBETH +The table's full. + +LENNOX +Here is a place reserved, sir. + +MACBETH +Where? + +LENNOX +Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? + +MACBETH +Which of you have done this? + +Lords +What, my good lord? + +MACBETH +Thou canst not say I did it: never shake +Thy gory locks at me. + +ROSS +Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. + +LADY MACBETH +Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus, +And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; +The fit is momentary; upon a thought +He will again be well: if much you note him, +You shall offend him and extend his passion: +Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? + +MACBETH +Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that +Which might appal the devil. + +LADY MACBETH +O proper stuff! +This is the very painting of your fear: +This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, +Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, +Impostors to true fear, would well become +A woman's story at a winter's fire, +Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! +Why do you make such faces? When all's done, +You look but on a stool. + +MACBETH +Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! +how say you? +Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. +If charnel-houses and our graves must send +Those that we bury back, our monuments +Shall be the maws of kites. + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +LADY MACBETH +What, quite unmann'd in folly? + +MACBETH +If I stand here, I saw him. + +LADY MACBETH +Fie, for shame! + +MACBETH +Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, +Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; +Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd +Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, +That, when the brains were out, the man would die, +And there an end; but now they rise again, +With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, +And push us from our stools: this is more strange +Than such a murder is. + +LADY MACBETH +My worthy lord, +Your noble friends do lack you. + +MACBETH +I do forget. +Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends, +I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; +Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. +I drink to the general joy o' the whole table, +And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; +Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, +And all to all. + +Lords +Our duties, and the pledge. + +Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO + +MACBETH +Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! +Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with! + +LADY MACBETH +Think of this, good peers, +But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; +Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + +MACBETH +What man dare, I dare: +Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, +The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; +Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves +Shall never tremble: or be alive again, +And dare me to the desert with thy sword; +If trembling I inhabit then, protest me +The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! +Unreal mockery, hence! + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +Why, so: being gone, +I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. + +LADY MACBETH +You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, +With most admired disorder. + +MACBETH +Can such things be, +And overcome us like a summer's cloud, +Without our special wonder? You make me strange +Even to the disposition that I owe, +When now I think you can behold such sights, +And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, +When mine is blanched with fear. + +ROSS +What sights, my lord? + +LADY MACBETH +I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; +Question enrages him. At once, good night: +Stand not upon the order of your going, +But go at once. + +LENNOX +Good night; and better health +Attend his majesty! + +LADY MACBETH +A kind good night to all! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH + +MACBETH +It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: +Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; +Augurs and understood relations have +By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth +The secret'st man of blood. What is the night? + +LADY MACBETH +Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + +MACBETH +How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding? + +LADY MACBETH +Did you send to him, sir? + +MACBETH +I hear it by the way; but I will send: +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow, +And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: +More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, +By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, +All causes shall give way: I am in blood +Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go o'er: +Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; +Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. + +LADY MACBETH +You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + +MACBETH +Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse +Is the initiate fear that wants hard use: +We are yet but young in deed. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A Heath. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE +First Witch +Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. + +HECATE +Have I not reason, beldams as you are, +Saucy and overbold? How did you dare +To trade and traffic with Macbeth +In riddles and affairs of death; +And I, the mistress of your charms, +The close contriver of all harms, +Was never call'd to bear my part, +Or show the glory of our art? +And, which is worse, all you have done +Hath been but for a wayward son, +Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, +Loves for his own ends, not for you. +But make amends now: get you gone, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meet me i' the morning: thither he +Will come to know his destiny: +Your vessels and your spells provide, +Your charms and every thing beside. +I am for the air; this night I'll spend +Unto a dismal and a fatal end: +Great business must be wrought ere noon: +Upon the corner of the moon +There hangs a vaporous drop profound; +I'll catch it ere it come to ground: +And that distill'd by magic sleights +Shall raise such artificial sprites +As by the strength of their illusion +Shall draw him on to his confusion: +He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear +He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: +And you all know, security +Is mortals' chiefest enemy. + +Music and a song within: 'Come away, come away,' & c + +Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, +Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. + +Exit + +First Witch +Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Forres. The palace. + +Enter LENNOX and another Lord +LENNOX +My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, +Which can interpret further: only, I say, +Things have been strangely borne. The +gracious Duncan +Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: +And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; +Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, +For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. +Who cannot want the thought how monstrous +It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain +To kill their gracious father? damned fact! +How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight +In pious rage the two delinquents tear, +That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? +Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; +For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive +To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, +He has borne all things well: and I do think +That had he Duncan's sons under his key-- +As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they +should find +What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. +But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd +His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear +Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell +Where he bestows himself? + +Lord +The son of Duncan, +From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth +Lives in the English court, and is received +Of the most pious Edward with such grace +That the malevolence of fortune nothing +Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff +Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid +To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: +That, by the help of these--with Him above +To ratify the work--we may again +Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, +Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, +Do faithful homage and receive free honours: +All which we pine for now: and this report +Hath so exasperate the king that he +Prepares for some attempt of war. + +LENNOX +Sent he to Macduff? + +Lord +He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' +The cloudy messenger turns me his back, +And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time +That clogs me with this answer.' + +LENNOX +And that well might +Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance +His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel +Fly to the court of England and unfold +His message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soon return to this our suffering country +Under a hand accursed! + +Lord +I'll send my prayers with him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. + +Second Witch +Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. + +Third Witch +Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. + +First Witch +Round about the cauldron go; +In the poison'd entrails throw. +Toad, that under cold stone +Days and nights has thirty-one +Swelter'd venom sleeping got, +Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Fillet of a fenny snake, +In the cauldron boil and bake; +Eye of newt and toe of frog, +Wool of bat and tongue of dog, +Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, +Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, +For a charm of powerful trouble, +Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Third Witch +Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, +Witches' mummy, maw and gulf +Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, +Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, +Liver of blaspheming Jew, +Gall of goat, and slips of yew +Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, +Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, +Finger of birth-strangled babe +Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, +Make the gruel thick and slab: +Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, +For the ingredients of our cauldron. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Cool it with a baboon's blood, +Then the charm is firm and good. + +Enter HECATE to the other three Witches + +HECATE +O well done! I commend your pains; +And every one shall share i' the gains; +And now about the cauldron sing, +Live elves and fairies in a ring, +Enchanting all that you put in. + +Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c + +HECATE retires + +Second Witch +By the pricking of my thumbs, +Something wicked this way comes. +Open, locks, +Whoever knocks! + +Enter MACBETH + +MACBETH +How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! +What is't you do? + +ALL +A deed without a name. + +MACBETH +I conjure you, by that which you profess, +Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: +Though you untie the winds and let them fight +Against the churches; though the yesty waves +Confound and swallow navigation up; +Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; +Though castles topple on their warders' heads; +Though palaces and pyramids do slope +Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure +Of nature's germens tumble all together, +Even till destruction sicken; answer me +To what I ask you. + +First Witch +Speak. + +Second Witch +Demand. + +Third Witch +We'll answer. + +First Witch +Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, +Or from our masters? + +MACBETH +Call 'em; let me see 'em. + +First Witch +Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten +Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten +From the murderer's gibbet throw +Into the flame. + +ALL +Come, high or low; +Thyself and office deftly show! + +Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head + +MACBETH +Tell me, thou unknown power,-- + +First Witch +He knows thy thought: +Hear his speech, but say thou nought. + +First Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; +Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; +Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one +word more,-- + +First Witch +He will not be commanded: here's another, +More potent than the first. + +Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child + +Second Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! + +MACBETH +Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. + +Second Apparition +Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn +The power of man, for none of woman born +Shall harm Macbeth. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? +But yet I'll make assurance double sure, +And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; +That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, +And sleep in spite of thunder. + +Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand + +What is this +That rises like the issue of a king, +And wears upon his baby-brow the round +And top of sovereignty? + +ALL +Listen, but speak not to't. + +Third Apparition +Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care +Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: +Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until +Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill +Shall come against him. + +Descends + +MACBETH +That will never be +Who can impress the forest, bid the tree +Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! +Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood +Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth +Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath +To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart +Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art +Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever +Reign in this kingdom? + +ALL +Seek to know no more. + +MACBETH +I will be satisfied: deny me this, +And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. +Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? + +Hautboys + +First Witch +Show! + +Second Witch +Show! + +Third Witch +Show! + +ALL +Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; +Come like shadows, so depart! + +A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following + +MACBETH +Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down! +Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, +Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. +A third is like the former. Filthy hags! +Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! +What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? +Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: +And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass +Which shows me many more; and some I see +That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry: +Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; +For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, +And points at them for his. + +Apparitions vanish + +What, is this so? + +First Witch +Ay, sir, all this is so: but why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, +And show the best of our delights: +I'll charm the air to give a sound, +While you perform your antic round: +That this great king may kindly say, +Our duties did his welcome pay. + +Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE + +MACBETH +Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour +Stand aye accursed in the calendar! +Come in, without there! + +Enter LENNOX + +LENNOX +What's your grace's will? + +MACBETH +Saw you the weird sisters? + +LENNOX +No, my lord. + +MACBETH +Came they not by you? + +LENNOX +No, indeed, my lord. + +MACBETH +Infected be the air whereon they ride; +And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear +The galloping of horse: who was't came by? + +LENNOX +'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word +Macduff is fled to England. + +MACBETH +Fled to England! + +LENNOX +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: +The flighty purpose never is o'ertook +Unless the deed go with it; from this moment +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And even now, +To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: +The castle of Macduff I will surprise; +Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword +His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls +That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; +This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. +But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? +Come, bring me where they are. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. + +Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS +LADY MACDUFF +What had he done, to make him fly the land? + +ROSS +You must have patience, madam. + +LADY MACDUFF +He had none: +His flight was madness: when our actions do not, +Our fears do make us traitors. + +ROSS +You know not +Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. + +LADY MACDUFF +Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, +His mansion and his titles in a place +From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; +He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren, +The most diminutive of birds, will fight, +Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. +All is the fear and nothing is the love; +As little is the wisdom, where the flight +So runs against all reason. + +ROSS +My dearest coz, +I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, +He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows +The fits o' the season. I dare not speak +much further; +But cruel are the times, when we are traitors +And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour +From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, +But float upon a wild and violent sea +Each way and move. I take my leave of you: +Shall not be long but I'll be here again: +Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward +To what they were before. My pretty cousin, +Blessing upon you! + +LADY MACDUFF +Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. + +ROSS +I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, +It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: +I take my leave at once. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Sirrah, your father's dead; +And what will you do now? How will you live? + +Son +As birds do, mother. + +LADY MACDUFF +What, with worms and flies? + +Son +With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, +The pitfall nor the gin. + +Son +Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. +My father is not dead, for all your saying. + +LADY MACDUFF +Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +Nay, how will you do for a husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + +Son +Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + +LADY MACDUFF +Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith, +With wit enough for thee. + +Son +Was my father a traitor, mother? + +LADY MACDUFF +Ay, that he was. + +Son +What is a traitor? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, one that swears and lies. + +Son +And be all traitors that do so? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. + +Son +And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one. + +Son +Who must hang them? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, the honest men. + +Son +Then the liars and swearers are fools, +for there are liars and swearers enow to beat +the honest men and hang up them. + +LADY MACDUFF +Now, God help thee, poor monkey! +But how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +If he were dead, you'ld weep for +him: if you would not, it were a good sign +that I should quickly have a new father. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, +Though in your state of honour I am perfect. +I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: +If you will take a homely man's advice, +Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. +To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; +To do worse to you were fell cruelty, +Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! +I dare abide no longer. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Whither should I fly? +I have done no harm. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world; where to do harm +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas, +Do I put up that womanly defence, +To say I have done no harm? + +Enter Murderers + +What are these faces? + +First Murderer +Where is your husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +I hope, in no place so unsanctified +Where such as thou mayst find him. + +First Murderer +He's a traitor. + +Son +Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! + +First Murderer +What, you egg! + +Stabbing him + +Young fry of treachery! + +Son +He has kill'd me, mother: +Run away, I pray you! + +Dies + +Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her + +SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace. + +Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF +MALCOLM +Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there +Weep our sad bosoms empty. + +MACDUFF +Let us rather +Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men +Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn +New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows +Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out +Like syllable of dolour. + +MALCOLM +What I believe I'll wail, +What know believe, and what I can redress, +As I shall find the time to friend, I will. +What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. +This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest: you have loved him well. +He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; +but something +You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom +To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb +To appease an angry god. + +MACDUFF +I am not treacherous. + +MALCOLM +But Macbeth is. +A good and virtuous nature may recoil +In an imperial charge. But I shall crave +your pardon; +That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose: +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; +Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, +Yet grace must still look so. + +MACDUFF +I have lost my hopes. + +MALCOLM +Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. +Why in that rawness left you wife and child, +Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, +Without leave-taking? I pray you, +Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, +But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, +Whatever I shall think. + +MACDUFF +Bleed, bleed, poor country! +Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou +thy wrongs; +The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord: +I would not be the villain that thou think'st +For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, +And the rich East to boot. + +MALCOLM +Be not offended: +I speak not as in absolute fear of you. +I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; +It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds: I think withal +There would be hands uplifted in my right; +And here from gracious England have I offer +Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, +When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, +Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country +Shall have more vices than it had before, +More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, +By him that shall succeed. + +MACDUFF +What should he be? + +MALCOLM +It is myself I mean: in whom I know +All the particulars of vice so grafted +That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth +Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state +Esteem him as a lamb, being compared +With my confineless harms. + +MACDUFF +Not in the legions +Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd +In evils to top Macbeth. + +MALCOLM +I grant him bloody, +Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, +Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin +That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, +In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, +Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up +The cistern of my lust, and my desire +All continent impediments would o'erbear +That did oppose my will: better Macbeth +Than such an one to reign. + +MACDUFF +Boundless intemperance +In nature is a tyranny; it hath been +The untimely emptying of the happy throne +And fall of many kings. But fear not yet +To take upon you what is yours: you may +Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, +And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. +We have willing dames enough: there cannot be +That vulture in you, to devour so many +As will to greatness dedicate themselves, +Finding it so inclined. + +MALCOLM +With this there grows +In my most ill-composed affection such +A stanchless avarice that, were I king, +I should cut off the nobles for their lands, +Desire his jewels and this other's house: +And my more-having would be as a sauce +To make me hunger more; that I should forge +Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, +Destroying them for wealth. + +Othello, the Moore of Venice +Shakespeare homepage | Othello | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Venice. A street. + +Enter RODERIGO and IAGO +RODERIGO +Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly +That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse +As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. + +IAGO +'Sblood, but you will not hear me: +If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. + +RODERIGO +Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. + +IAGO +Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, +In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, +Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, +I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: +But he; as loving his own pride and purposes, +Evades them, with a bombast circumstance +Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; +And, in conclusion, +Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he, +'I have already chose my officer.' +And what was he? +Forsooth, a great arithmetician, +One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, +A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; +That never set a squadron in the field, +Nor the division of a battle knows +More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, +Wherein the toged consuls can propose +As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, +Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: +And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof +At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds +Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd +By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, +He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, +And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient. + +RODERIGO +By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. + +IAGO +Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, +Preferment goes by letter and affection, +And not by old gradation, where each second +Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, +Whether I in any just term am affined +To love the Moor. + +RODERIGO +I would not follow him then. + +IAGO +O, sir, content you; +I follow him to serve my turn upon him: +We cannot all be masters, nor all masters +Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark +Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, +That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, +Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, +For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd: +Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are +Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, +Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, +And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, +Do well thrive by them and when they have lined +their coats +Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; +And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, +It is as sure as you are Roderigo, +Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: +In following him, I follow but myself; +Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, +But seeming so, for my peculiar end: +For when my outward action doth demonstrate +The native act and figure of my heart +In compliment extern, 'tis not long after +But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve +For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. + +RODERIGO +What a full fortune does the thicklips owe +If he can carry't thus! + +IAGO +Call up her father, +Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, +Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, +And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, +Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, +Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, +As it may lose some colour. + +RODERIGO +Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. + +IAGO +Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell +As when, by night and negligence, the fire +Is spied in populous cities. + +RODERIGO +What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! + +IAGO +Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! +Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! +Thieves! thieves! + +BRABANTIO appears above, at a window + +BRABANTIO +What is the reason of this terrible summons? +What is the matter there? + +RODERIGO +Signior, is all your family within? + +IAGO +Are your doors lock'd? + +BRABANTIO +Why, wherefore ask you this? + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on +your gown; +Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; +Even now, now, very now, an old black ram +Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise; +Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, +Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: +Arise, I say. + +BRABANTIO +What, have you lost your wits? + +RODERIGO +Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? + +BRABANTIO +Not I what are you? + +RODERIGO +My name is Roderigo. + +BRABANTIO +The worser welcome: +I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: +In honest plainness thou hast heard me say +My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, +Being full of supper and distempering draughts, +Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come +To start my quiet. + +RODERIGO +Sir, sir, sir,-- + +BRABANTIO +But thou must needs be sure +My spirit and my place have in them power +To make this bitter to thee. + +RODERIGO +Patience, good sir. + +BRABANTIO +What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; +My house is not a grange. + +RODERIGO +Most grave Brabantio, +In simple and pure soul I come to you. + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not +serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to +do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll +have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; +you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have +coursers for cousins and gennets for germans. + +BRABANTIO +What profane wretch art thou? + +IAGO +I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter +and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. + +BRABANTIO +Thou art a villain. + +IAGO +You are--a senator. + +BRABANTIO +This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. + +RODERIGO +Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you, +If't be your pleasure and most wise consent, +As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, +At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, +Transported, with no worse nor better guard +But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, +To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor-- +If this be known to you and your allowance, +We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; +But if you know not this, my manners tell me +We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe +That, from the sense of all civility, +I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: +Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, +I say again, hath made a gross revolt; +Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes +In an extravagant and wheeling stranger +Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself: +If she be in her chamber or your house, +Let loose on me the justice of the state +For thus deluding you. + +BRABANTIO +Strike on the tinder, ho! +Give me a taper! call up all my people! +This accident is not unlike my dream: +Belief of it oppresses me already. +Light, I say! light! + +Exit above + +IAGO +Farewell; for I must leave you: +It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, +To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall-- +Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state, +However this may gall him with some cheque, +Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd +With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, +Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, +Another of his fathom they have none, +To lead their business: in which regard, +Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains. +Yet, for necessity of present life, +I must show out a flag and sign of love, +Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him, +Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; +And there will I be with him. So, farewell. + +Exit + +Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches + +BRABANTIO +It is too true an evil: gone she is; +And what's to come of my despised time +Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, +Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl! +With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father! +How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me +Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers: +Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you? + +RODERIGO +Truly, I think they are. + +BRABANTIO +O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! +Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds +By what you see them act. Is there not charms +By which the property of youth and maidhood +May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, +Of some such thing? + +RODERIGO +Yes, sir, I have indeed. + +BRABANTIO +Call up my brother. O, would you had had her! +Some one way, some another. Do you know +Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? + +RODERIGO +I think I can discover him, if you please, +To get good guard and go along with me. + +BRABANTIO +Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call; +I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! +And raise some special officers of night. +On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another street. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches +IAGO +Though in the trade of war I have slain men, +Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience +To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity +Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times +I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. + +OTHELLO +'Tis better as it is. + +IAGO +Nay, but he prated, +And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms +Against your honour +That, with the little godliness I have, +I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir, +Are you fast married? Be assured of this, +That the magnifico is much beloved, +And hath in his effect a voice potential +As double as the duke's: he will divorce you; +Or put upon you what restraint and grievance +The law, with all his might to enforce it on, +Will give him cable. + +OTHELLO +Let him do his spite: +My services which I have done the signiory +Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,-- +Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, +I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being +From men of royal siege, and my demerits +May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune +As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago, +But that I love the gentle Desdemona, +I would not my unhoused free condition +Put into circumscription and confine +For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond? + +IAGO +Those are the raised father and his friends: +You were best go in. + +OTHELLO +Not I I must be found: +My parts, my title and my perfect soul +Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? + +IAGO +By Janus, I think no. + +Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches + +OTHELLO +The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. +The goodness of the night upon you, friends! +What is the news? + +CASSIO +The duke does greet you, general, +And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, +Even on the instant. + +OTHELLO +What is the matter, think you? + +CASSIO +Something from Cyprus as I may divine: +It is a business of some heat: the galleys +Have sent a dozen sequent messengers +This very night at one another's heels, +And many of the consuls, raised and met, +Are at the duke's already: you have been +hotly call'd for; +When, being not at your lodging to be found, +The senate hath sent about three several guests +To search you out. + +OTHELLO +'Tis well I am found by you. +I will but spend a word here in the house, +And go with you. + +Exit + +CASSIO +Ancient, what makes he here? + +IAGO +'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack: +If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. + +CASSIO +I do not understand. + +IAGO +He's married. + +CASSIO +To who? + +Re-enter OTHELLO + +IAGO +Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go? + +OTHELLO +Have with you. + +CASSIO +Here comes another troop to seek for you. + +IAGO +It is Brabantio. General, be advised; +He comes to bad intent. + +Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons + +OTHELLO +Holla! stand there! + +RODERIGO +Signior, it is the Moor. + +BRABANTIO +Down with him, thief! + +They draw on both sides + +IAGO +You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you. + +OTHELLO +Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. +Good signior, you shall more command with years +Than with your weapons. + +BRABANTIO +O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter? +Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her; +For I'll refer me to all things of sense, +If she in chains of magic were not bound, +Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, +So opposite to marriage that she shunned +The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, +Would ever have, to incur a general mock, +Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom +Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight. +Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense +That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, +Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals +That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on; +'Tis probable and palpable to thinking. +I therefore apprehend and do attach thee +For an abuser of the world, a practiser +Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. +Lay hold upon him: if he do resist, +Subdue him at his peril. + +OTHELLO +Hold your hands, +Both you of my inclining, and the rest: +Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it +Without a prompter. Where will you that I go +To answer this your charge? + +BRABANTIO +To prison, till fit time +Of law and course of direct session +Call thee to answer. + +OTHELLO +What if I do obey? +How may the duke be therewith satisfied, +Whose messengers are here about my side, +Upon some present business of the state +To bring me to him? + +First Officer +'Tis true, most worthy signior; +The duke's in council and your noble self, +I am sure, is sent for. + +BRABANTIO +How! the duke in council! +In this time of the night! Bring him away: +Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself, +Or any of my brothers of the state, +Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own; +For if such actions may have passage free, +Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A council-chamber. + +The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending +DUKE OF VENICE +There is no composition in these news +That gives them credit. + +First Senator +Indeed, they are disproportion'd; +My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. + +DUKE OF VENICE +And mine, a hundred and forty. + +Second Senator +And mine, two hundred: +But though they jump not on a just account,-- +As in these cases, where the aim reports, +'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm +A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, it is possible enough to judgment: +I do not so secure me in the error, +But the main article I do approve +In fearful sense. + +Sailor +[Within] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho! + +First Officer +A messenger from the galleys. + +Enter a Sailor + +DUKE OF VENICE +Now, what's the business? + +Sailor +The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; +So was I bid report here to the state +By Signior Angelo. + +DUKE OF VENICE +How say you by this change? + +First Senator +This cannot be, +By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant, +To keep us in false gaze. When we consider +The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, +And let ourselves again but understand, +That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, +So may he with more facile question bear it, +For that it stands not in such warlike brace, +But altogether lacks the abilities +That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this, +We must not think the Turk is so unskilful +To leave that latest which concerns him first, +Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, +To wake and wage a danger profitless. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. + +First Officer +Here is more news. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, +Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes, +Have there injointed them with an after fleet. + +First Senator +Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? + +Messenger +Of thirty sail: and now they do restem +Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance +Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, +Your trusty and most valiant servitor, +With his free duty recommends you thus, +And prays you to believe him. + +DUKE OF VENICE +'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus. +Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? + +First Senator +He's now in Florence. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch. + +First Senator +Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. + +Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers + +DUKE OF VENICE +Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you +Against the general enemy Ottoman. + +To BRABANTIO + +I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; +We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight. + +BRABANTIO +So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; +Neither my place nor aught I heard of business +Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care +Take hold on me, for my particular grief +Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature +That it engluts and swallows other sorrows +And it is still itself. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Why, what's the matter? + +BRABANTIO +My daughter! O, my daughter! + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +Dead? + +BRABANTIO +Ay, to me; +She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted +By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; +For nature so preposterously to err, +Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, +Sans witchcraft could not. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding +Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself +And you of her, the bloody book of law +You shall yourself read in the bitter letter +After your own sense, yea, though our proper son +Stood in your action. + +BRABANTIO +Humbly I thank your grace. +Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, +Your special mandate for the state-affairs +Hath hither brought. + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +We are very sorry for't. + +DUKE OF VENICE +[To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this? + +BRABANTIO +Nothing, but this is so. + +OTHELLO +Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, +My very noble and approved good masters, +That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, +It is most true; true, I have married her: +The very head and front of my offending +Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, +And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace: +For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, +Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used +Their dearest action in the tented field, +And little of this great world can I speak, +More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, +And therefore little shall I grace my cause +In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, +I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver +Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, +What conjuration and what mighty magic, +For such proceeding I am charged withal, +I won his daughter. + +BRABANTIO +A maiden never bold; +Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion +Blush'd at herself; and she, in spite of nature, +Of years, of country, credit, every thing, +To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on! +It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect +That will confess perfection so could err +Against all rules of nature, and must be driven +To find out practises of cunning hell, +Why this should be. I therefore vouch again +That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, +Or with some dram conjured to this effect, +He wrought upon her. + +DUKE OF VENICE +To vouch this, is no proof, +Without more wider and more overt test +Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods +Of modern seeming do prefer against him. + +First Senator +But, Othello, speak: +Did you by indirect and forced courses +Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? +Or came it by request and such fair question +As soul to soul affordeth? + +OTHELLO +I do beseech you, +Send for the lady to the Sagittary, +And let her speak of me before her father: +If you do find me foul in her report, +The trust, the office I do hold of you, +Not only take away, but let your sentence +Even fall upon my life. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Fetch Desdemona hither. + +OTHELLO +Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. + +Exeunt IAGO and Attendants + +And, till she come, as truly as to heaven +I do confess the vices of my blood, +So justly to your grave ears I'll present +How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, +And she in mine. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Say it, Othello. + +OTHELLO +Her father loved me; oft invited me; +Still question'd me the story of my life, +From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, +That I have passed. +I ran it through, even from my boyish days, +To the very moment that he bade me tell it; +Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, +Of moving accidents by flood and field +Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, +Of being taken by the insolent foe +And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence +And portance in my travels' history: +Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, +Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven +It was my hint to speak,--such was the process; +And of the Cannibals that each other eat, +The Anthropophagi and men whose heads +Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear +Would Desdemona seriously incline: +But still the house-affairs would draw her thence: +Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, +She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear +Devour up my discourse: which I observing, +Took once a pliant hour, and found good means +To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart +That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, +Whereof by parcels she had something heard, +But not intentively: I did consent, +And often did beguile her of her tears, +When I did speak of some distressful stroke +That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, +She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: +She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange, +'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: +She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd +That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, +And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, +I should but teach him how to tell my story. +And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: +She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, +And I loved her that she did pity them. +This only is the witchcraft I have used: +Here comes the lady; let her witness it. + +Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants + +DUKE OF VENICE +I think this tale would win my daughter too. +Good Brabantio, +Take up this mangled matter at the best: +Men do their broken weapons rather use +Than their bare hands. + +BRABANTIO +I pray you, hear her speak: +If she confess that she was half the wooer, +Destruction on my head, if my bad blame +Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress: +Do you perceive in all this noble company +Where most you owe obedience? + +DESDEMONA +My noble father, +I do perceive here a divided duty: +To you I am bound for life and education; +My life and education both do learn me +How to respect you; you are the lord of duty; +I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband, +And so much duty as my mother show'd +To you, preferring you before her father, +So much I challenge that I may profess +Due to the Moor my lord. + +BRABANTIO +God be wi' you! I have done. +Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: +I had rather to adopt a child than get it. +Come hither, Moor: +I here do give thee that with all my heart +Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart +I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, +I am glad at soul I have no other child: +For thy escape would teach me tyranny, +To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence, +Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers +Into your favour. +When remedies are past, the griefs are ended +By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. +To mourn a mischief that is past and gone +Is the next way to draw new mischief on. +What cannot be preserved when fortune takes +Patience her injury a mockery makes. +The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief; +He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. + +BRABANTIO +So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile; +We lose it not, so long as we can smile. +He bears the sentence well that nothing bears +But the free comfort which from thence he hears, +But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow +That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. +These sentences, to sugar, or to gall, +Being strong on both sides, are equivocal: +But words are words; I never yet did hear +That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. +I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state. + +DUKE OF VENICE +The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for +Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best +known to you; and though we have there a substitute +of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a +sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer +voice on you: you must therefore be content to +slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this +more stubborn and boisterous expedition. + +OTHELLO +The tyrant custom, most grave senators, +Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war +My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise +A natural and prompt alacrity +I find in hardness, and do undertake +These present wars against the Ottomites. +Most humbly therefore bending to your state, +I crave fit disposition for my wife. +Due reference of place and exhibition, +With such accommodation and besort +As levels with her breeding. + +DUKE OF VENICE +If you please, +Be't at her father's. + +BRABANTIO +I'll not have it so. + +OTHELLO +Nor I. + +DESDEMONA +Nor I; I would not there reside, +To put my father in impatient thoughts +By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, +To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear; +And let me find a charter in your voice, +To assist my simpleness. + +DUKE OF VENICE +What would You, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA +That I did love the Moor to live with him, +My downright violence and storm of fortunes +May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued +Even to the very quality of my lord: +I saw Othello's visage in his mind, +And to his honour and his valiant parts +Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. +So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, +A moth of peace, and he go to the war, +The rites for which I love him are bereft me, +And I a heavy interim shall support +By his dear absence. Let me go with him. + +OTHELLO +Let her have your voices. +Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, +To please the palate of my appetite, +Nor to comply with heat--the young affects +In me defunct--and proper satisfaction. +But to be free and bounteous to her mind: +And heaven defend your good souls, that you think +I will your serious and great business scant +For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys +Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness +My speculative and officed instruments, +That my disports corrupt and taint my business, +Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, +And all indign and base adversities +Make head against my estimation! + +DUKE OF VENICE +Be it as you shall privately determine, +Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste, +And speed must answer it. + +First Senator +You must away to-night. + +OTHELLO +With all my heart. + +DUKE OF VENICE +At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again. +Othello, leave some officer behind, +And he shall our commission bring to you; +With such things else of quality and respect +As doth import you. + +OTHELLO +So please your grace, my ancient; +A man he is of honest and trust: +To his conveyance I assign my wife, +With what else needful your good grace shall think +To be sent after me. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let it be so. +Good night to every one. + +To BRABANTIO + +And, noble signior, +If virtue no delighted beauty lack, +Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. + +First Senator +Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well. + +BRABANTIO +Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: +She has deceived her father, and may thee. + +Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, & c + +OTHELLO +My life upon her faith! Honest Iago, +My Desdemona must I leave to thee: +I prithee, let thy wife attend on her: +And bring them after in the best advantage. +Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour +Of love, of worldly matters and direction, +To spend with thee: we must obey the time. + +Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA + +RODERIGO +Iago,-- + +IAGO +What say'st thou, noble heart? + +RODERIGO +What will I do, thinkest thou? + +IAGO +Why, go to bed, and sleep. + +RODERIGO +I will incontinently drown myself. + +IAGO +If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, +thou silly gentleman! + +RODERIGO +It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and +then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician. + +IAGO +O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four +times seven years; and since I could distinguish +betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man +that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I +would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I +would change my humanity with a baboon. + +RODERIGO +What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so +fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it. + +IAGO +Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus +or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which +our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant +nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up +thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or +distract it with many, either to have it sterile +with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the +power and corrigible authority of this lies in our +wills. If the balance of our lives had not one +scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the +blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us +to most preposterous conclusions: but we have +reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal +stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that +you call love to be a sect or scion. + +RODERIGO +It cannot be. + +IAGO +It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of +the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown +cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy +friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with +cables of perdurable toughness; I could never +better stead thee than now. Put money in thy +purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with +an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It +cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her +love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he +his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou +shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but +money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in +their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food +that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be +to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must +change for youth: when she is sated with his body, +she will find the error of her choice: she must +have change, she must: therefore put money in thy +purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a +more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money +thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt +an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not +too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou +shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of +drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek +thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than +to be drowned and go without her. + +RODERIGO +Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on +the issue? + +IAGO +Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told +thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I +hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no +less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge +against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost +thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many +events in the womb of time which will be delivered. +Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more +of this to-morrow. Adieu. + +RODERIGO +Where shall we meet i' the morning? + +IAGO +At my lodging. + +RODERIGO +I'll be with thee betimes. + +IAGO +Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO +What say you? + +IAGO +No more of drowning, do you hear? + +RODERIGO +I am changed: I'll go sell all my land. + +Exit + +IAGO +Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: +For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, +If I would time expend with such a snipe. +But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor: +And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets +He has done my office: I know not if't be true; +But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, +Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; +The better shall my purpose work on him. +Cassio's a proper man: let me see now: +To get his place and to plume up my will +In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:-- +After some time, to abuse Othello's ear +That he is too familiar with his wife. +He hath a person and a smooth dispose +To be suspected, framed to make women false. +The Moor is of a free and open nature, +That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, +And will as tenderly be led by the nose +As asses are. +I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night +Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay. + +Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen +MONTANO +What from the cape can you discern at sea? + +First Gentleman +Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood; +I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, +Descry a sail. + +MONTANO +Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; +A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: +If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, +What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, +Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? + +Second Gentleman +A segregation of the Turkish fleet: +For do but stand upon the foaming shore, +The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; +The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane, +seems to cast water on the burning bear, +And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: +I never did like molestation view +On the enchafed flood. + +MONTANO +If that the Turkish fleet +Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd: +It is impossible they bear it out. + +Enter a third Gentleman + +Third Gentleman +News, lads! our wars are done. +The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, +That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice +Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance +On most part of their fleet. + +MONTANO +How! is this true? + +Third Gentleman +The ship is here put in, +A Veronesa; Michael Cassio, +Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, +Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea, +And is in full commission here for Cyprus. + +MONTANO +I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. + +Third Gentleman +But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort +Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly, +And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted +With foul and violent tempest. + +MONTANO +Pray heavens he be; +For I have served him, and the man commands +Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! +As well to see the vessel that's come in +As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, +Even till we make the main and the aerial blue +An indistinct regard. + +Third Gentleman +Come, let's do so: +For every minute is expectancy +Of more arrivance. + +Enter CASSIO + +CASSIO +Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, +That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens +Give him defence against the elements, +For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea. + +MONTANO +Is he well shipp'd? + +CASSIO +His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot +Of very expert and approved allowance; +Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, +Stand in bold cure. + +A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!' + +Enter a fourth Gentleman + +CASSIO +What noise? + +Fourth Gentleman +The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea +Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!' + +CASSIO +My hopes do shape him for the governor. + +Guns heard + +Second Gentlemen +They do discharge their shot of courtesy: +Our friends at least. + +CASSIO +I pray you, sir, go forth, +And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. + +Second Gentleman +I shall. + +Exit + +MONTANO +But, good lieutenant, is your general wived? + +CASSIO +Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid +That paragons description and wild fame; +One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, +And in the essential vesture of creation +Does tire the ingener. + +Re-enter second Gentleman + +How now! who has put in? + +Second Gentleman +'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. + +CASSIO +Has had most favourable and happy speed: +Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, +The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands-- +Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-- +As having sense of beauty, do omit +Their mortal natures, letting go safely by +The divine Desdemona. + +MONTANO +What is she? + +CASSIO +She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, +Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, +Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts +A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, +And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, +That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, +Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, +Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits +And bring all Cyprus comfort! + +Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants + +O, behold, +The riches of the ship is come on shore! +Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. +Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, +Before, behind thee, and on every hand, +Enwheel thee round! + +DESDEMONA +I thank you, valiant Cassio. +What tidings can you tell me of my lord? + +CASSIO +He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught +But that he's well and will be shortly here. + +DESDEMONA +O, but I fear--How lost you company? + +CASSIO +The great contention of the sea and skies +Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail. + +Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard + +Second Gentleman +They give their greeting to the citadel; +This likewise is a friend. + +CASSIO +See for the news. + +Exit Gentleman + +Good ancient, you are welcome. + +To EMILIA + +Welcome, mistress. +Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, +That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding +That gives me this bold show of courtesy. + +Kissing her + +IAGO +Sir, would she give you so much of her lips +As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, +You'll have enough. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, she has no speech. + +IAGO +In faith, too much; +I find it still, when I have list to sleep: +Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, +She puts her tongue a little in her heart, +And chides with thinking. + +EMILIA +You have little cause to say so. + +IAGO +Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, +Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens, +Saints m your injuries, devils being offended, +Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds. + +DESDEMONA +O, fie upon thee, slanderer! + +IAGO +Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk: +You rise to play and go to bed to work. + +EMILIA +You shall not write my praise. + +IAGO +No, let me not. + +DESDEMONA +What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst +praise me? + +IAGO +O gentle lady, do not put me to't; +For I am nothing, if not critical. + +DESDEMONA +Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour? + +IAGO +Ay, madam. + +DESDEMONA +I am not merry; but I do beguile +The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. +Come, how wouldst thou praise me? + +IAGO +I am about it; but indeed my invention +Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize; +It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, +And thus she is deliver'd. +If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, +The one's for use, the other useth it. + +DESDEMONA +Well praised! How if she be black and witty? + +IAGO +If she be black, and thereto have a wit, +She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. + +DESDEMONA +Worse and worse. + +EMILIA +How if fair and foolish? + +IAGO +She never yet was foolish that was fair; +For even her folly help'd her to an heir. + +DESDEMONA +These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' +the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for +her that's foul and foolish? + +IAGO +There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, +But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. + +DESDEMONA +O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best. +But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving +woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her +merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? + +IAGO +She that was ever fair and never proud, +Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, +Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, +Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,' +She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, +Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, +She that in wisdom never was so frail +To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; +She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, +See suitors following and not look behind, +She was a wight, if ever such wight were,-- + +DESDEMONA +To do what? + +IAGO +To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. + +DESDEMONA +O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn +of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say +you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal +counsellor? + +CASSIO +He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in +the soldier than in the scholar. + +IAGO +[Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, +whisper: with as little a web as this will I +ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon +her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. +You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as +these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had +been better you had not kissed your three fingers so +oft, which now again you are most apt to play the +sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent +courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers +to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! + +Trumpet within + +The Moor! I know his trumpet. + +CASSIO +'Tis truly so. + +DESDEMONA +Let's meet him and receive him. + +CASSIO +Lo, where he comes! + +Enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +O my fair warrior! + +DESDEMONA +My dear Othello! + +OTHELLO +It gives me wonder great as my content +To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! +If after every tempest come such calms, +May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! +And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas +Olympus-high and duck again as low +As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, +'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, +My soul hath her content so absolute +That not another comfort like to this +Succeeds in unknown fate. + +DESDEMONA +The heavens forbid +But that our loves and comforts should increase, +Even as our days do grow! + +OTHELLO +Amen to that, sweet powers! +I cannot speak enough of this content; +It stops me here; it is too much of joy: +And this, and this, the greatest discords be + +Kissing her + +That e'er our hearts shall make! + +IAGO +[Aside] O, you are well tuned now! +But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, +As honest as I am. + +OTHELLO +Come, let us to the castle. +News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks +are drown'd. +How does my old acquaintance of this isle? +Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus; +I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, +I prattle out of fashion, and I dote +In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago, +Go to the bay and disembark my coffers: +Bring thou the master to the citadel; +He is a good one, and his worthiness +Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona, +Once more, well met at Cyprus. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +IAGO +Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come +hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base +men being in love have then a nobility in their +natures more than is native to them--list me. The +lieutenant tonight watches on the court of +guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is +directly in love with him. + +RODERIGO +With him! why, 'tis not possible. + +IAGO +Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. +Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, +but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies: +and will she love him still for prating? let not +thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed; +and what delight shall she have to look on the +devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of +sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to +give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, +sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which +the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these +required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will +find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, +disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will +instruct her in it and compel her to some second +choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most +pregnant and unforced position--who stands so +eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio +does? a knave very voluble; no further +conscionable than in putting on the mere form of +civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing +of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, +none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a +finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and +counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never +present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the +knave is handsome, young, and hath all those +requisites in him that folly and green minds look +after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman +hath found him already. + +RODERIGO +I cannot believe that in her; she's full of +most blessed condition. + +IAGO +Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of +grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never +have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou +not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst +not mark that? + +RODERIGO +Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. + +IAGO +Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue +to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met +so near with their lips that their breaths embraced +together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these +mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes +the master and main exercise, the incorporate +conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I +have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; +for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows +you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find +some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking +too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what +other course you please, which the time shall more +favourably minister. + +RODERIGO +Well. + +IAGO +Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply +may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for +even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to +mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true +taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So +shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by +the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the +impediment most profitably removed, without the +which there were no expectation of our prosperity. + +RODERIGO +I will do this, if I can bring it to any +opportunity. + +IAGO +I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: +I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. + +RODERIGO +Adieu. + +Exit + +IAGO +That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; +That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: +The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, +Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, +And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona +A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; +Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure +I stand accountant for as great a sin, +But partly led to diet my revenge, +For that I do suspect the lusty Moor +Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof +Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; +And nothing can or shall content my soul +Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, +Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor +At least into a jealousy so strong +That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, +If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash +For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, +I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, +Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb-- +For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too-- +Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me. +For making him egregiously an ass +And practising upon his peace and quiet +Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused: +Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used. + +Exit + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People following +Herald +It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant +general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, +importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, +every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, +some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and +revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these +beneficial news, it is the celebration of his +nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be +proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full +liberty of feasting from this present hour of five +till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the +isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants +OTHELLO +Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: +Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, +Not to outsport discretion. + +CASSIO +Iago hath direction what to do; +But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye +Will I look to't. + +OTHELLO +Iago is most honest. +Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest +Let me have speech with you. + +To DESDEMONA + +Come, my dear love, +The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; +That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you. +Good night. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +Enter IAGO + +CASSIO +Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. + +IAGO +Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the +clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love +of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: +he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and +she is sport for Jove. + +CASSIO +She's a most exquisite lady. + +IAGO +And, I'll warrant her, fun of game. + +CASSIO +Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature. + +IAGO +What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of +provocation. + +CASSIO +An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. + +IAGO +And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? + +CASSIO +She is indeed perfection. + +IAGO +Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I +have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace +of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to +the health of black Othello. + +CASSIO +Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and +unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish +courtesy would invent some other custom of +entertainment. + +IAGO +O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for +you. + +CASSIO +I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was +craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation +it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, +and dare not task my weakness with any more. + +IAGO +What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants +desire it. + +CASSIO +Where are they? + +IAGO +Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. + +CASSIO +I'll do't; but it dislikes me. + +Exit + +IAGO +If I can fasten but one cup upon him, +With that which he hath drunk to-night already, +He'll be as full of quarrel and offence +As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, +Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, +To Desdemona hath to-night caroused +Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch: +Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, +That hold their honours in a wary distance, +The very elements of this warlike isle, +Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, +And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, +Am I to put our Cassio in some action +That may offend the isle.--But here they come: +If consequence do but approve my dream, +My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. + +Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen; servants following with wine + +CASSIO +'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. + +MONTANO +Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am +a soldier. + +IAGO +Some wine, ho! + +Sings + +And let me the canakin clink, clink; +And let me the canakin clink +A soldier's a man; +A life's but a span; +Why, then, let a soldier drink. +Some wine, boys! + +CASSIO +'Fore God, an excellent song. + +IAGO +I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are +most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and +your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing +to your English. + +CASSIO +Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? + +IAGO +Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead +drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he +gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle +can be filled. + +CASSIO +To the health of our general! + +MONTANO +I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. + +IAGO +O sweet England! +King Stephen was a worthy peer, +His breeches cost him but a crown; +He held them sixpence all too dear, +With that he call'd the tailor lown. +He was a wight of high renown, +And thou art but of low degree: +'Tis pride that pulls the country down; +Then take thine auld cloak about thee. +Some wine, ho! + +CASSIO +Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. + +IAGO +Will you hear't again? + +CASSIO +No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that +does those things. Well, God's above all; and there +be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. + +IAGO +It's true, good lieutenant. + +CASSIO +For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor +any man of quality,--I hope to be saved. + +IAGO +And so do I too, lieutenant. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the +lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's +have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive +us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business. +Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my +ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left: +I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and +speak well enough. + +All +Excellent well. + +CASSIO +Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. + +Exit + +MONTANO +To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. + +IAGO +You see this fellow that is gone before; +He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar +And give direction: and do but see his vice; +'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, +The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him. +I fear the trust Othello puts him in. +On some odd time of his infirmity, +Will shake this island. + +MONTANO +But is he often thus? + +IAGO +'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: +He'll watch the horologe a double set, +If drink rock not his cradle. + +MONTANO +It were well +The general were put in mind of it. +Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature +Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, +And looks not on his evils: is not this true? + +Enter RODERIGO + +IAGO +[Aside to him] How now, Roderigo! +I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. + +Exit RODERIGO + +MONTANO +And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor +Should hazard such a place as his own second +With one of an ingraft infirmity: +It were an honest action to say +So to the Moor. + +IAGO +Not I, for this fair island: +I do love Cassio well; and would do much +To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise? + +Cry within: 'Help! help!' + +Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO + +CASSIO +You rogue! you rascal! + +MONTANO +What's the matter, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +A knave teach me my duty! +I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. + +RODERIGO +Beat me! + +CASSIO +Dost thou prate, rogue? + +Striking RODERIGO + +MONTANO +Nay, good lieutenant; + +Staying him + +I pray you, sir, hold your hand. + +CASSIO +Let me go, sir, +Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard. + +MONTANO +Come, come, +you're drunk. + +CASSIO +Drunk! + +They fight + +IAGO +[Aside to RODERIGO] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;-- +Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir; +Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed! + +Bell rings + +Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho! +The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold! +You will be shamed for ever. + +Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +What is the matter here? + +MONTANO +'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. + +Faints + +OTHELLO +Hold, for your lives! + +IAGO +Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,-- +Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? +Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! + +OTHELLO +Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? +Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that +Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? +For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: +He that stirs next to carve for his own rage +Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. +Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle +From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? +Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, +Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. + +IAGO +I do not know: friends all but now, even now, +In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom +Devesting them for bed; and then, but now-- +As if some planet had unwitted men-- +Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, +In opposition bloody. I cannot speak +Any beginning to this peevish odds; +And would in action glorious I had lost +Those legs that brought me to a part of it! + +OTHELLO +How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? + +CASSIO +I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. + +OTHELLO +Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; +The gravity and stillness of your youth +The world hath noted, and your name is great +In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, +That you unlace your reputation thus +And spend your rich opinion for the name +Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. + +MONTANO +Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: +Your officer, Iago, can inform you,-- +While I spare speech, which something now +offends me,-- +Of all that I do know: nor know I aught +By me that's said or done amiss this night; +Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, +And to defend ourselves it be a sin +When violence assails us. + +OTHELLO +Now, by heaven, +My blood begins my safer guides to rule; +And passion, having my best judgment collied, +Assays to lead the way: if I once stir, +Or do but lift this arm, the best of you +Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know +How this foul rout began, who set it on; +And he that is approved in this offence, +Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, +Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, +Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, +To manage private and domestic quarrel, +In night, and on the court and guard of safety! +'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't? + +MONTANO +If partially affined, or leagued in office, +Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, +Thou art no soldier. + +IAGO +Touch me not so near: +I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth +Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; +Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth +Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. +Montano and myself being in speech, +There comes a fellow crying out for help: +And Cassio following him with determined sword, +To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman +Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: +Myself the crying fellow did pursue, +Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out-- +The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, +Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather +For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, +And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night +I ne'er might say before. When I came back-- +For this was brief--I found them close together, +At blow and thrust; even as again they were +When you yourself did part them. +More of this matter cannot I report: +But men are men; the best sometimes forget: +Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, +As men in rage strike those that wish them best, +Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received +From him that fled some strange indignity, +Which patience could not pass. + +OTHELLO +I know, Iago, +Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, +Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee +But never more be officer of mine. + +Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended + +Look, if my gentle love be not raised up! +I'll make thee an example. + +DESDEMONA +What's the matter? + +OTHELLO +All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. +Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon: +Lead him off. + +To MONTANO, who is led off + +Iago, look with care about the town, +And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. +Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life +To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. + +Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO + +IAGO +What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +Ay, past all surgery. + +IAGO +Marry, heaven forbid! + +CASSIO +Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost +my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of +myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, +Iago, my reputation! + +IAGO +As I am an honest man, I thought you had received +some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than +in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false +imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without +deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, +unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! +there are ways to recover the general again: you +are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in +policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his +offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue +to him again, and he's yours. + +CASSIO +I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so +good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so +indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? +and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse +fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible +spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, +let us call thee devil! + +IAGO +What was he that you followed with your sword? What +had he done to you? + +CASSIO +I know not. + +IAGO +Is't possible? + +CASSIO +I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; +a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men +should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away +their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance +revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! + +IAGO +Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus +recovered? + +CASSIO +It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place +to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me +another, to make me frankly despise myself. + +IAGO +Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, +the place, and the condition of this country +stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; +but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +CASSIO +I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me +I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, +such an answer would stop them all. To be now a +sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a +beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is +unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. + +IAGO +Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, +if it be well used: exclaim no more against it. +And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. + +CASSIO +I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! + +IAGO +You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man. +I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife +is now the general: may say so in this respect, for +that he hath devoted and given up himself to the +contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and +graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune +her help to put you in your place again: she is of +so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, +she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more +than she is requested: this broken joint between +you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my +fortunes against any lay worth naming, this +crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. + +CASSIO +You advise me well. + +IAGO +I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. + +CASSIO +I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will +beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: +I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here. + +IAGO +You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I +must to the watch. +CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago. + +Exit + +IAGO +And what's he then that says I play the villain? +When this advice is free I give and honest, +Probal to thinking and indeed the course +To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy +The inclining Desdemona to subdue +In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful +As the free elements. And then for her +To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism, +All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, +His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, +That she may make, unmake, do what she list, +Even as her appetite shall play the god +With his weak function. How am I then a villain +To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, +Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! +When devils will the blackest sins put on, +They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, +As I do now: for whiles this honest fool +Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes +And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, +I'll pour this pestilence into his ear, +That she repeals him for her body's lust; +And by how much she strives to do him good, +She shall undo her credit with the Moor. +So will I turn her virtue into pitch, +And out of her own goodness make the net +That shall enmesh them all. + +Re-enter RODERIGO + +How now, Roderigo! + +RODERIGO +I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that +hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is +almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well +cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall +have so much experience for my pains, and so, with +no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice. + +IAGO +How poor are they that have not patience! +What wound did ever heal but by degrees? +Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; +And wit depends on dilatory time. +Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee. +And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio: +Though other things grow fair against the sun, +Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: +Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; +Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. +Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: +Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: +Nay, get thee gone. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Two things are to be done: +My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; +I'll set her on; +Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, +And bring him jump when he may Cassio find +Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way +Dull not device by coldness and delay. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the castle. + +Enter CASSIO and some Musicians +CASSIO +Masters, play here; I will content your pains; +Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.' + +Music + +Enter Clown + +Clown +Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples, +that they speak i' the nose thus? + +First Musician +How, sir, how! + +Clown +Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments? + +First Musician +Ay, marry, are they, sir. + +Clown +O, thereby hangs a tail. + +First Musician +Whereby hangs a tale, sir? + +Clown +Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know. +But, masters, here's money for you: and the general +so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's +sake, to make no more noise with it. + +First Musician +Well, sir, we will not. + +Clown +If you have any music that may not be heard, to't +again: but, as they say to hear music the general +does not greatly care. + +First Musician +We have none such, sir. + +Clown +Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away: +go; vanish into air; away! + +Exeunt Musicians + +CASSIO +Dost thou hear, my honest friend? + +Clown +No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you. + +CASSIO +Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece +of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends +the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's +one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech: +wilt thou do this? + +Clown +She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I +shall seem to notify unto her. + +CASSIO +Do, good my friend. + +Exit Clown + +Enter IAGO + +In happy time, Iago. + +IAGO +You have not been a-bed, then? + +CASSIO +Why, no; the day had broke +Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago, +To send in to your wife: my suit to her +Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona +Procure me some access. + +IAGO +I'll send her to you presently; +And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor +Out of the way, that your converse and business +May be more free. + +CASSIO +I humbly thank you for't. + +Exit IAGO + +I never knew +A Florentine more kind and honest. + +Enter EMILIA + +EMILIA +Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry +For your displeasure; but all will sure be well. +The general and his wife are talking of it; +And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies, +That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus, +And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom +He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you +And needs no other suitor but his likings +To take the safest occasion by the front +To bring you in again. + +CASSIO +Yet, I beseech you, +If you think fit, or that it may be done, +Give me advantage of some brief discourse +With Desdemona alone. + +EMILIA +Pray you, come in; +I will bestow you where you shall have time +To speak your bosom freely. + +CASSIO +I am much bound to you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen +OTHELLO +These letters give, Iago, to the pilot; +And by him do my duties to the senate: +That done, I will be walking on the works; +Repair there to me. + +IAGO +Well, my good lord, I'll do't. + +OTHELLO +This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't? + +Gentleman +We'll wait upon your lordship. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The garden of the castle. + +Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA +DESDEMONA +Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do +All my abilities in thy behalf. + +EMILIA +Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband, +As if the case were his. + +DESDEMONA +O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio, +But I will have my lord and you again +As friendly as you were. + +CASSIO +Bounteous madam, +Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, +He's never any thing but your true servant. + +DESDEMONA +I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord: +You have known him long; and be you well assured +He shall in strangeness stand no further off +Than in a polite distance. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, lady, +That policy may either last so long, +Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, +Or breed itself so out of circumstance, +That, I being absent and my place supplied, +My general will forget my love and service. + +DESDEMONA +Do not doubt that; before Emilia here +I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee, +If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it +To the last article: my lord shall never rest; +I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience; +His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; +I'll intermingle every thing he does +With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio; +For thy solicitor shall rather die +Than give thy cause away. + +EMILIA +Madam, here comes my lord. + +CASSIO +Madam, I'll take my leave. + +DESDEMONA +Why, stay, and hear me speak. + +CASSIO +Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease, +Unfit for mine own purposes. + +DESDEMONA +Well, do your discretion. + +Exit CASSIO + +Enter OTHELLO and IAGO + +IAGO +Ha! I like not that. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say? + +IAGO +Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what. + +OTHELLO +Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? + +IAGO +Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it, +That he would steal away so guilty-like, +Seeing you coming. + +OTHELLO +I do believe 'twas he. + +DESDEMONA +How now, my lord! +I have been talking with a suitor here, +A man that languishes in your displeasure. + +OTHELLO +Who is't you mean? + +DESDEMONA +Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, +If I have any grace or power to move you, +His present reconciliation take; +For if he be not one that truly loves you, +That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, +I have no judgment in an honest face: +I prithee, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Went he hence now? + +DESDEMONA +Ay, sooth; so humbled +That he hath left part of his grief with me, +To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. + +DESDEMONA +But shall't be shortly? + +OTHELLO +The sooner, sweet, for you. + +DESDEMONA +Shall't be to-night at supper? + +OTHELLO +No, not to-night. + +DESDEMONA +To-morrow dinner, then? + +OTHELLO +I shall not dine at home; +I meet the captains at the citadel. + +DESDEMONA +Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn; +On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: +I prithee, name the time, but let it not +Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent; +And yet his trespass, in our common reason-- +Save that, they say, the wars must make examples +Out of their best--is not almost a fault +To incur a private cheque. When shall he come? +Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul, +What you would ask me, that I should deny, +Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio, +That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time, +When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, +Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do +To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,-- + +OTHELLO +Prithee, no more: let him come when he will; +I will deny thee nothing. + +DESDEMONA +Why, this is not a boon; +'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, +Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, +Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit +To your own person: nay, when I have a suit +Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, +It shall be full of poise and difficult weight +And fearful to be granted. + +OTHELLO +I will deny thee nothing: +Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, +To leave me but a little to myself. + +DESDEMONA +Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. + +OTHELLO +Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight. + +DESDEMONA +Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you; +Whate'er you be, I am obedient. + +Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA + +OTHELLO +Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, +But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, +Chaos is come again. + +IAGO +My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say, Iago? + +IAGO +Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, +Know of your love? + +OTHELLO +He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? + +IAGO +But for a satisfaction of my thought; +No further harm. + +OTHELLO +Why of thy thought, Iago? + +IAGO +I did not think he had been acquainted with her. + +OTHELLO +O, yes; and went between us very oft. + +IAGO +Indeed! + +OTHELLO +Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that? +Is he not honest? + +IAGO +Honest, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Honest! ay, honest. + +IAGO +My lord, for aught I know. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou think? + +IAGO +Think, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Think, my lord! +By heaven, he echoes me, +As if there were some monster in his thought +Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something: +I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that, +When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like? +And when I told thee he was of my counsel +In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!' +And didst contract and purse thy brow together, +As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain +Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, +Show me thy thought. + +IAGO +My lord, you know I love you. + +OTHELLO +I think thou dost; +And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, +And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath, +Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: +For such things in a false disloyal knave +Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just +They are close delations, working from the heart +That passion cannot rule. + +IAGO +For Michael Cassio, +I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. + +OTHELLO +I think so too. + +IAGO +Men should be what they seem; +Or those that be not, would they might seem none! + +OTHELLO +Certain, men should be what they seem. + +IAGO +Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man. + +OTHELLO +Nay, yet there's more in this: +I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, +As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts +The worst of words. + +IAGO +Good my lord, pardon me: +Though I am bound to every act of duty, +I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. +Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false; +As where's that palace whereinto foul things +Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure, +But some uncleanly apprehensions +Keep leets and law-days and in session sit +With meditations lawful? + +OTHELLO +Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, +If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear +A stranger to thy thoughts. + +IAGO +I do beseech you-- +Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, +As, I confess, it is my nature's plague +To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy +Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet, +From one that so imperfectly conceits, +Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble +Out of his scattering and unsure observance. +It were not for your quiet nor your good, +Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, +To let you know my thoughts. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou mean? + +IAGO +Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, +Is the immediate jewel of their souls: +Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; +'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands: +But he that filches from me my good name +Robs me of that which not enriches him +And makes me poor indeed. + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. + +IAGO +You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; +Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. + +OTHELLO +Ha! + +IAGO +O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; +It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock +The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss +Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; +But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er +Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! + +OTHELLO +O misery! + +IAGO +Poor and content is rich and rich enough, +But riches fineless is as poor as winter +To him that ever fears he shall be poor. +Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend +From jealousy! + +OTHELLO +Why, why is this? +Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy, +To follow still the changes of the moon +With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt +Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, +When I shall turn the business of my soul +To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, +Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous +To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, +Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well; +Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: +Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw +The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; +For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; +I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; +And on the proof, there is no more but this,-- +Away at once with love or jealousy! + +IAGO +I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason +To show the love and duty that I bear you +With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, +Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. +Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; +Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: +I would not have your free and noble nature, +Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't: +I know our country disposition well; +In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks +They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience +Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. + +Timon of Athens +Shakespeare homepage | Timon of Athens | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors +Poet +Good day, sir. + +Painter +I am glad you're well. + +Poet +I have not seen you long: how goes the world? + +Painter +It wears, sir, as it grows. + +Poet +Ay, that's well known: +But what particular rarity? what strange, +Which manifold record not matches? See, +Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power +Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. + +Painter +I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. + +Merchant +O, 'tis a worthy lord. + +Jeweller +Nay, that's most fix'd. + +Merchant +A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, +To an untirable and continuate goodness: +He passes. +Jeweller: I have a jewel here-- + +Merchant +O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? +Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- + +Poet +[Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have +praised the vile, +It stains the glory in that happy verse +Which aptly sings the good.' + +Merchant +'Tis a good form. + +Looking at the jewel + +Jeweller +And rich: here is a water, look ye. + +Painter +You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication +To the great lord. + +Poet +A thing slipp'd idly from me. +Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes +From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint +Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame +Provokes itself and like the current flies +Each bound it chafes. What have you there? + +Painter +A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? + +Poet +Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. +Let's see your piece. + +Painter +'Tis a good piece. + +Poet +So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. + +Painter +Indifferent. + +Poet +Admirable: how this grace +Speaks his own standing! what a mental power +This eye shoots forth! how big imagination +Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture +One might interpret. + +Painter +It is a pretty mocking of the life. +Here is a touch; is't good? + +Poet +I will say of it, +It tutors nature: artificial strife +Lives in these touches, livelier than life. + +Enter certain Senators, and pass over + +Painter +How this lord is follow'd! + +Poet +The senators of Athens: happy man! + +Painter +Look, more! + +Poet +You see this confluence, this great flood +of visitors. +I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, +Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug +With amplest entertainment: my free drift +Halts not particularly, but moves itself +In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice +Infects one comma in the course I hold; +But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, +Leaving no tract behind. + +Painter +How shall I understand you? + +Poet +I will unbolt to you. +You see how all conditions, how all minds, +As well of glib and slippery creatures as +Of grave and austere quality, tender down +Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune +Upon his good and gracious nature hanging +Subdues and properties to his love and tendance +All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer +To Apemantus, that few things loves better +Than to abhor himself: even he drops down +The knee before him, and returns in peace +Most rich in Timon's nod. + +Painter +I saw them speak together. + +Poet +Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill +Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount +Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, +That labour on the bosom of this sphere +To propagate their states: amongst them all, +Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, +One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame, +Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; +Whose present grace to present slaves and servants +Translates his rivals. + +Painter +'Tis conceived to scope. +This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, +With one man beckon'd from the rest below, +Bowing his head against the sleepy mount +To climb his happiness, would be well express'd +In our condition. + +Poet +Nay, sir, but hear me on. +All those which were his fellows but of late, +Some better than his value, on the moment +Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, +Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, +Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him +Drink the free air. + +Painter +Ay, marry, what of these? + +Poet +When Fortune in her shift and change of mood +Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants +Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top +Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, +Not one accompanying his declining foot. + +Painter +'Tis common: +A thousand moral paintings I can show +That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's +More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well +To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen +The foot above the head. + +Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following + +TIMON +Imprison'd is he, say you? + +Messenger +Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, +His means most short, his creditors most strait: +Your honourable letter he desires +To those have shut him up; which failing, +Periods his comfort. + +TIMON +Noble Ventidius! Well; +I am not of that feather to shake off +My friend when he must need me. I do know him +A gentleman that well deserves a help: +Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, +and free him. + +Messenger +Your lordship ever binds him. + +TIMON +Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; +And being enfranchised, bid him come to me. +'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, +But to support him after. Fare you well. + +Messenger +All happiness to your honour! + +Exit + +Enter an old Athenian + +Old Athenian +Lord Timon, hear me speak. + +TIMON +Freely, good father. + +Old Athenian +Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. + +TIMON +I have so: what of him? + +Old Athenian +Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. + +TIMON +Attends he here, or no? Lucilius! + +LUCILIUS +Here, at your lordship's service. + +Old Athenian +This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, +By night frequents my house. I am a man +That from my first have been inclined to thrift; +And my estate deserves an heir more raised +Than one which holds a trencher. + +TIMON +Well; what further? + +Old Athenian +One only daughter have I, no kin else, +On whom I may confer what I have got: +The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride, +And I have bred her at my dearest cost +In qualities of the best. This man of thine +Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord, +Join with me to forbid him her resort; +Myself have spoke in vain. + +TIMON +The man is honest. + +Old Athenian +Therefore he will be, Timon: +His honesty rewards him in itself; +It must not bear my daughter. + +TIMON +Does she love him? + +Old Athenian +She is young and apt: +Our own precedent passions do instruct us +What levity's in youth. + +TIMON +[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid? + +LUCILIUS +Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. + +Old Athenian +If in her marriage my consent be missing, +I call the gods to witness, I will choose +Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, +And dispossess her all. + +TIMON +How shall she be endow'd, +if she be mated with an equal husband? + +Old Athenian +Three talents on the present; in future, all. + +TIMON +This gentleman of mine hath served me long: +To build his fortune I will strain a little, +For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: +What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, +And make him weigh with her. + +Old Athenian +Most noble lord, +Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. + +TIMON +My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. + +LUCILIUS +Humbly I thank your lordship: never may +The state or fortune fall into my keeping, +Which is not owed to you! + +Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian + +Poet +Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! + +TIMON +I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: +Go not away. What have you there, my friend? + +Painter +A piece of painting, which I do beseech +Your lordship to accept. + +TIMON +Painting is welcome. +The painting is almost the natural man; +or since dishonour traffics with man's nature, +He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are +Even such as they give out. I like your work; +And you shall find I like it: wait attendance +Till you hear further from me. + +Painter +The gods preserve ye! + +TIMON +Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; +We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel +Hath suffer'd under praise. + +Jeweller +What, my lord! dispraise? + +TIMON +A more satiety of commendations. +If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, +It would unclew me quite. + +Jeweller +My lord, 'tis rated +As those which sell would give: but you well know, +Things of like value differing in the owners +Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord, +You mend the jewel by the wearing it. + +TIMON +Well mock'd. + +Merchant +No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, +Which all men speak with him. + +TIMON +Look, who comes here: will you be chid? + +Enter APEMANTUS + +Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship. + +Merchant +He'll spare none. + +TIMON +Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! + +APEMANTUS +Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; +When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. + +TIMON +Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. + +APEMANTUS +Are they not Athenians? + +TIMON +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then I repent not. +Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name. + +TIMON +Thou art proud, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon. + +TIMON +Whither art going? + +APEMANTUS +To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. + +TIMON +That's a deed thou'lt die for. + +APEMANTUS +Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. + +TIMON +How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +The best, for the innocence. + +TIMON +Wrought he not well that painted it? + +APEMANTUS +He wrought better that made the painter; and yet +he's but a filthy piece of work. + +Painter +You're a dog. + +APEMANTUS +Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog? + +TIMON +Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +No; I eat not lords. + +TIMON +An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. + +APEMANTUS +O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. + +TIMON +That's a lascivious apprehension. + +APEMANTUS +So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. + +TIMON +How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a +man a doit. + +TIMON +What dost thou think 'tis worth? + +APEMANTUS +Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! + +Poet +How now, philosopher! + +APEMANTUS +Thou liest. + +Poet +Art not one? + +APEMANTUS +Yes. + +Poet +Then I lie not. + +APEMANTUS +Art not a poet? + +Poet +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou +hast feigned him a worthy fellow. + +Poet +That's not feigned; he is so. + +APEMANTUS +Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy +labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' +the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! + +TIMON +What wouldst do then, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. + +TIMON +What, thyself? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Wherefore? + +APEMANTUS +That I had no angry wit to be a lord. +Art not thou a merchant? + +Merchant +Ay, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! + +Merchant +If traffic do it, the gods do it. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! + +Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger + +TIMON +What trumpet's that? + +Messenger +'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, +All of companionship. + +TIMON +Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +You must needs dine with me: go not you hence +Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, +Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest + +Most welcome, sir! + +APEMANTUS +So, so, there! +Aches contract and starve your supple joints! +That there should be small love 'mongst these +sweet knaves, +And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out +Into baboon and monkey. + +ALCIBIADES +Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed +Most hungerly on your sight. + +TIMON +Right welcome, sir! +Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time +In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. + +Exeunt all except APEMANTUS + +Enter two Lords + +First Lord +What time o' day is't, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Time to be honest. + +First Lord +That time serves still. + +APEMANTUS +The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. + +Second Lord +Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. + +Second Lord +Fare thee well, fare thee well. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. + +Second Lord +Why, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to +give thee none. + +First Lord +Hang thyself! + +APEMANTUS +No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy +requests to thy friend. + +Second Lord +Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! + +APEMANTUS +I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass. + +Exit + +First Lord +He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, +And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes +The very heart of kindness. + +Second Lord +He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, +Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays +Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, +But breeds the giver a return exceeding +All use of quittance. + +First Lord +The noblest mind he carries +That ever govern'd man. + +Second Lord +Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? + +First Lord +I'll keep you company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself +VENTIDIUS +Most honour'd Timon, +It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age, +And call him to long peace. +He is gone happy, and has left me rich: +Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound +To your free heart, I do return those talents, +Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help +I derived liberty. + +TIMON +O, by no means, +Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: +I gave it freely ever; and there's none +Can truly say he gives, if he receives: +If our betters play at that game, we must not dare +To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair. + +VENTIDIUS +A noble spirit! + +TIMON +Nay, my lords, + +They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON + +Ceremony was but devised at first +To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, +Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; +But where there is true friendship, there needs none. +Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes +Than my fortunes to me. + +They sit + +First Lord +My lord, we always have confess'd it. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not? + +TIMON +O, Apemantus, you are welcome. + +APEMANTUS +No; +You shall not make me welcome: +I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. + +TIMON +Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there +Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame. +They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond +man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by +himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is +he fit for't, indeed. + +APEMANTUS +Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to +observe; I give thee warning on't. + +TIMON +I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, +therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; +prithee, let my meat make thee silent. + +APEMANTUS +I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should +ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of +men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me +to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood; +and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. +I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: +Methinks they should invite them without knives; +Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. +There's much example for't; the fellow that sits +next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the +breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest +man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a +huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; +Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: +Great men should drink with harness on their throats. + +TIMON +My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. + +Second Lord +Let it flow this way, my good lord. + +APEMANTUS +Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides +well. Those healths will make thee and thy state +look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to +be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire: +This and my food are equals; there's no odds: +Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. +Apemantus' grace. +Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; +I pray for no man but myself: +Grant I may never prove so fond, +To trust man on his oath or bond; +Or a harlot, for her weeping; +Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping: +Or a keeper with my freedom; +Or my friends, if I should need 'em. +Amen. So fall to't: +Rich men sin, and I eat root. + +Eats and drinks + +Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! + +TIMON +Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. + +ALCIBIADES +My heart is ever at your service, my lord. + +TIMON +You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a +dinner of friends. + +ALCIBIADES +So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat +like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast. + +APEMANTUS +Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then, +that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em! + +First Lord +Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you +would once use our hearts, whereby we might express +some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves +for ever perfect. + +TIMON +O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods +themselves have provided that I shall have much help +from you: how had you been my friends else? why +have you that charitable title from thousands, did +not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told +more of you to myself than you can with modesty +speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm +you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any +friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they +were the most needless creatures living, should we +ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble +sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their +sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished +myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We +are born to do benefits: and what better or +properer can we can our own than the riches of our +friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have +so many, like brothers, commanding one another's +fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born! +Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to +forget their faults, I drink to you. + +APEMANTUS +Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. + +Second Lord +Joy had the like conception in our eyes +And at that instant like a babe sprung up. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. + +Third Lord +I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. + +APEMANTUS +Much! + +Tucket, within + +TIMON +What means that trump? + +Enter a Servant + +How now? + +Servant +Please you, my lord, there are certain +ladies most desirous of admittance. + +TIMON +Ladies! what are their wills? + +Servant +There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which +bears that office, to signify their pleasures. + +TIMON +I pray, let them be admitted. + +Enter Cupid + +Cupid +Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all +That of his bounties taste! The five best senses +Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely +To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear, +Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise; +They only now come but to feast thine eyes. + +TIMON +They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance: +Music, make their welcome! + +Exit Cupid + +First Lord +You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved. + +Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing + +APEMANTUS +Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! +They dance! they are mad women. +Like madness is the glory of this life. +As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. +We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves; +And spend our flatteries, to drink those men +Upon whose age we void it up again, +With poisonous spite and envy. +Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? +Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves +Of their friends' gift? +I should fear those that dance before me now +Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; +Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease + +TIMON +You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, +Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, +Which was not half so beautiful and kind; +You have added worth unto 't and lustre, +And entertain'd me with mine own device; +I am to thank you for 't. + +First Lady +My lord, you take us even at the best. + +APEMANTUS +'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold +taking, I doubt me. + +TIMON +Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you: +Please you to dispose yourselves. + +All Ladies +Most thankfully, my lord. + +Exeunt Cupid and Ladies + +TIMON +Flavius. + +FLAVIUS +My lord? + +TIMON +The little casket bring me hither. + +FLAVIUS +Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! +There is no crossing him in 's humour; + +Aside + +Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should, +When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could. +'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, +That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. + +Exit + +First Lord +Where be our men? + +Servant +Here, my lord, in readiness. + +Second Lord +Our horses! + +Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket + +TIMON +O my friends, +I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord, +I must entreat you, honour me so much +As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it, +Kind my lord. + +First Lord +I am so far already in your gifts,-- + +All +So are we all. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate +Newly alighted, and come to visit you. + +TIMON +They are fairly welcome. + +FLAVIUS +I beseech your honour, +Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. + +TIMON +Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee: +I prithee, let's be provided to show them +entertainment. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] I scarce know how. + +Enter a Second Servant + +Second Servant +May it please your honour, Lord Lucius, +Out of his free love, hath presented to you +Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. + +TIMON +I shall accept them fairly; let the presents +Be worthily entertain'd. + +Enter a third Servant + +How now! what news? + +Third Servant +Please you, my lord, that honourable +gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company +to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour +two brace of greyhounds. + +TIMON +I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, +Not without fair reward. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] What will this come to? +He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, +And all out of an empty coffer: +Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, +To show him what a beggar his heart is, +Being of no power to make his wishes good: +His promises fly so beyond his state +That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes +For every word: he is so kind that he now +Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books. +Well, would I were gently put out of office +Before I were forced out! +Happier is he that has no friend to feed +Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. +I bleed inwardly for my lord. + +Exit + +TIMON +You do yourselves +Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: +Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. + +Second Lord +With more than common thanks I will receive it. + +Third Lord +O, he's the very soul of bounty! + +TIMON +And now I remember, my lord, you gave +Good words the other day of a bay courser +I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it. + +Second Lord +O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. + +TIMON +You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man +Can justly praise but what he does affect: +I weigh my friend's affection with mine own; +I'll tell you true. I'll call to you. + +All Lords +O, none so welcome. + +TIMON +I take all and your several visitations +So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; +Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, +And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades, +Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; +It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living +Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast +Lie in a pitch'd field. + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, defiled land, my lord. + +First Lord +We are so virtuously bound-- + +TIMON +And so +Am I to you. + +Second Lord +So infinitely endear'd-- + +TIMON +All to you. Lights, more lights! + +First Lord +The best of happiness, +Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon! + +TIMON +Ready for his friends. + +Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON + +APEMANTUS +What a coil's here! +Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! +I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums +That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs: +Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs, +Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies. + +TIMON +Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be +good to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too, +there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then +thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, +Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in +paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and +vain-glories? + +TIMON +Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am +sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come +with better music. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +So: +Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then: +I'll lock thy heaven from thee. +O, that men's ears should be +To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Senator's house. + +Enter Senator, with papers in his hand +Senator +And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore +He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, +Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion +Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not. +If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, +And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. +If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more +Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, +Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight, +And able horses. No porter at his gate, +But rather one that smiles and still invites +All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason +Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! +Caphis, I say! + +Enter CAPHIS + +CAPHIS +Here, sir; what is your pleasure? + +Senator +Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon; +Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased +With slight denial, nor then silenced when-- +'Commend me to your master'--and the cap +Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him, +My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn +Out of mine own; his days and times are past +And my reliances on his fracted dates +Have smit my credit: I love and honour him, +But must not break my back to heal his finger; +Immediate are my needs, and my relief +Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words, +But find supply immediate. Get you gone: +Put on a most importunate aspect, +A visage of demand; for, I do fear, +When every feather sticks in his own wing, +Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, +Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone. + +CAPHIS +I go, sir. + +Senator +'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you, +And have the dates in contempt. + +CAPHIS +I will, sir. + +Senator +Go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand +FLAVIUS +No care, no stop! so senseless of expense, +That he will neither know how to maintain it, +Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account +How things go from him, nor resumes no care +Of what is to continue: never mind +Was to be so unwise, to be so kind. +What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel: +I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. +Fie, fie, fie, fie! + +Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro + +CAPHIS +Good even, Varro: what, +You come for money? +Varro's Servant Is't not your business too? + +CAPHIS +It is: and yours too, Isidore? +Isidore's Servant It is so. + +CAPHIS +Would we were all discharged! +Varro's Servant I fear it. + +CAPHIS +Here comes the lord. + +Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, & c + +TIMON +So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again, +My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will? + +CAPHIS +My lord, here is a note of certain dues. + +TIMON +Dues! Whence are you? + +CAPHIS +Of Athens here, my lord. + +TIMON +Go to my steward. + +CAPHIS +Please it your lordship, he hath put me off +To the succession of new days this month: +My master is awaked by great occasion +To call upon his own, and humbly prays you +That with your other noble parts you'll suit +In giving him his right. + +TIMON +Mine honest friend, +I prithee, but repair to me next morning. + +CAPHIS +Nay, good my lord,-- + +TIMON +Contain thyself, good friend. +Varro's Servant One Varro's servant, my good lord,-- +Isidore's Servant From Isidore; +He humbly prays your speedy payment. + +CAPHIS +If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-- +Varro's Servant 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past. +Isidore's Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord; +And I am sent expressly to your lordship. + +TIMON +Give me breath. +I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on; +I'll wait upon you instantly. + +Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords + +To FLAVIUS + +Come hither: pray you, +How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd +With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds, +And the detention of long-since-due debts, +Against my honour? + +FLAVIUS +Please you, gentlemen, +The time is unagreeable to this business: +Your importunacy cease till after dinner, +That I may make his lordship understand +Wherefore you are not paid. + +TIMON +Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd. + +Exit + +FLAVIUS +Pray, draw near. + +Exit + +Enter APEMANTUS and Fool + +CAPHIS +Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: +let's ha' some sport with 'em. +Varro's Servant Hang him, he'll abuse us. +Isidore's Servant A plague upon him, dog! +Varro's Servant How dost, fool? + +APEMANTUS +Dost dialogue with thy shadow? +Varro's Servant I speak not to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No,'tis to thyself. + +To the Fool + +Come away. +Isidore's Servant There's the fool hangs on your back already. + +APEMANTUS +No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet. + +CAPHIS +Where's the fool now? + +APEMANTUS +He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and +usurers' men! bawds between gold and want! + +All Servants +What are we, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Asses. + +All Servants +Why? + +APEMANTUS +That you ask me what you are, and do not know +yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool. + +Fool +How do you, gentlemen? + +All Servants +Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress? + +Fool +She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens +as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! + +APEMANTUS +Good! gramercy. + +Enter Page + +Fool +Look you, here comes my mistress' page. + +Page +[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you +in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer +thee profitably. + +Page +Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of +these letters: I know not which is which. + +APEMANTUS +Canst not read? + +Page +No. + +APEMANTUS +There will little learning die then, that day thou +art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to +Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't +die a bawd. + +Page +Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a +dog's death. Answer not; I am gone. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with +you to Lord Timon's. + +Fool +Will you leave me there? + +APEMANTUS +If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? + +All Servants +Ay; would they served us! + +APEMANTUS +So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief. + +Fool +Are you three usurers' men? + +All Servants +Ay, fool. + +Fool +I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my +mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come +to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and +go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house +merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? +Varro's Servant I could render one. + +APEMANTUS +Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster +and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be +no less esteemed. +Varro's Servant What is a whoremaster, fool? + +Fool +A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. +'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord; +sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, +with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is +very often like a knight; and, generally, in all +shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore +to thirteen, this spirit walks in. +Varro's Servant Thou art not altogether a fool. + +Fool +Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as +I have, so much wit thou lackest. + +APEMANTUS +That answer might have become Apemantus. + +All Servants +Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon. + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +APEMANTUS +Come with me, fool, come. + +Fool +I do not always follow lover, elder brother and +woman; sometime the philosopher. + +Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool + +FLAVIUS +Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon. + +Exeunt Servants + +TIMON +You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time +Had you not fully laid my state before me, +That I might so have rated my expense, +As I had leave of means? + +FLAVIUS +You would not hear me, +At many leisures I proposed. + +TIMON +Go to: +Perchance some single vantages you took. +When my indispos ition put you back: +And that unaptness made your minister, +Thus to excuse yourself. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, +At many times I brought in my accounts, +Laid them before you; you would throw them off, +And say, you found them in mine honesty. +When, for some trifling present, you have bid me +Return so much, I have shook my head and wept; +Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you +To hold your hand more close: I did endure +Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have +Prompted you in the ebb of your estate +And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, +Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time-- +The greatest of your having lacks a half +To pay your present debts. + +TIMON +Let all my land be sold. + +FLAVIUS +'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone; +And what remains will hardly stop the mouth +Of present dues: the future comes apace: +What shall defend the interim? and at length +How goes our reckoning? + +TIMON +To Lacedaemon did my land extend. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, the world is but a word: +Were it all yours to give it in a breath, +How quickly were it gone! + +TIMON +You tell me true. + +FLAVIUS +If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, +Call me before the exactest auditors +And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, +When all our offices have been oppress'd +With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept +With drunken spilth of wine, when every room +Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy, +I have retired me to a wasteful cock, +And set mine eyes at flow. + +TIMON +Prithee, no more. + +FLAVIUS +Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! +How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants +This night englutted! Who is not Timon's? +What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is +Lord Timon's? +Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! +Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, +The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: +Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, +These flies are couch'd. + +TIMON +Come, sermon me no further: +No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; +Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. +Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack, +To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart; +If I would broach the vessels of my love, +And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, +Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use +As I can bid thee speak. + +FLAVIUS +Assurance bless your thoughts! + +TIMON +And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd, +That I account them blessings; for by these +Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you +Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends. +Within there! Flaminius! Servilius! + +Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants + +Servants +My lord? my lord? + +TIMON +I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius; +to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour +to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their +loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have +found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let +the request be fifty talents. + +FLAMINIUS +As you have said, my lord. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum! + +TIMON +Go you, sir, to the senators-- +Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have +Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant +A thousand talents to me. + +FLAVIUS +I have been bold-- +For that I knew it the most general way-- +To them to use your signet and your name; +But they do shake their heads, and I am here +No richer in return. + +TIMON +Is't true? can't be? + +FLAVIUS +They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, +That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot +Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,-- +But yet they could have wish'd--they know not-- +Something hath been amiss--a noble nature +May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;-- +And so, intending other serious matters, +After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, +With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods +They froze me into silence. + +TIMON +You gods, reward them! +Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows +Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: +Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; +'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; +And nature, as it grows again toward earth, +Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. + +To a Servant + +Go to Ventidius. + +To FLAVIUS + +Prithee, be not sad, +Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak. +No blame belongs to thee. + +To Servant + +Ventidius lately +Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd +Into a great estate: when he was poor, +Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends, +I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me; +Bid him suppose some good necessity +Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd +With those five talents. + +Exit Servant + +To FLAVIUS + +That had, give't these fellows +To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think, +That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink. + +FLAVIUS +I would I could not think it: that thought is +bounty's foe; +Being free itself, it thinks all others so. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in Lucullus' house. + +FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him +Servant +I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you. + +FLAMINIUS +I thank you, sir. + +Enter LUCULLUS + +Servant +Here's my lord. + +LUCULLUS +[Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I +warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver +basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest +Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir. +Fill me some wine. + +Exit Servants + +And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted +gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord +and master? + +FLAMINIUS +His health is well sir. + +LUCULLUS +I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and +what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius? + +FLAMINIUS +'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my +lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to +supply; who, having great and instant occasion to +use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to +furnish him, nothing doubting your present +assistance therein. + +LUCULLUS +La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas, +good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not +keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' +dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to +supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less, +and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning +by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty +is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get +him from't. + +Re-enter Servant, with wine + +Servant +Please your lordship, here is the wine. + +LUCULLUS +Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee. + +FLAMINIUS +Your lordship speaks your pleasure. + +LUCULLUS +I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt +spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what +belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if +the time use thee well: good parts in thee. + +To Servant + +Get you gone, sirrah. + +Exit Servant + +Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a +bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou +knowest well enough, although thou comest to me, +that this is no time to lend money, especially upon +bare friendship, without security. Here's three +solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say +thou sawest me not. Fare thee well. + +FLAMINIUS +Is't possible the world should so much differ, +And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, +To him that worships thee! + +Throwing the money back + +LUCULLUS +Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master. + +Exit + +FLAMINIUS +May these add to the number that may scald thee! +Let moulten coin be thy damnation, +Thou disease of a friend, and not himself! +Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, +It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, +I feel master's passion! this slave, +Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him: +Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, +When he is turn'd to poison? +O, may diseases only work upon't! +And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature +Which my lord paid for, be of any power +To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! + +Exit + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers +LUCILIUS +Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and +an honourable gentleman. + +First Stranger +We know him for no less, though we are but strangers +to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and +which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's +happy hours are done and past, and his estate +shrinks from him. + +LUCILIUS +Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money. + +Second Stranger +But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago, +one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow +so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and +showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied. + +LUCILIUS +How! + +Second Stranger +I tell you, denied, my lord. + +LUCILIUS +What a strange case was that! now, before the gods, +I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man! +there was very little honour showed in't. For my own +part, I must needs confess, I have received some +small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels +and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his; +yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should +ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +SERVILIUS +See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; +I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,-- + +To LUCIUS + +LUCILIUS +Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: +commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very +exquisite friend. + +SERVILIUS +May it please your honour, my lord hath sent-- + +LUCILIUS +Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to +that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank +him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now? + +SERVILIUS +Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; +requesting your lordship to supply his instant use +with so many talents. + +LUCILIUS +I know his lordship is but merry with me; +He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. + +SERVILIUS +But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. +If his occasion were not virtuous, +I should not urge it half so faithfully. + +LUCILIUS +Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? + +SERVILIUS +Upon my soul,'tis true, sir. + +LUCILIUS +What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself +against such a good time, when I might ha' shown +myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I +should purchase the day before for a little part, +and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now, +before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more +beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon +myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would +not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now. +Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I +hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me, +because I have no power to be kind: and tell him +this from me, I count it one of my greatest +afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an +honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you +befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him? + +SERVILIUS +Yes, sir, I shall. + +LUCILIUS +I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. + +Exit SERVILIUS + +True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed; +And he that's once denied will hardly speed. + +Exit + +First Stranger +Do you observe this, Hostilius? + +Second Stranger +Ay, too well. + +First Stranger +Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the +same piece +Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him +His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in +My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father, +And kept his credit with his purse, +Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money +Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks, +But Timon's silver treads upon his lip; +And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man +When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-- +He does deny him, in respect of his, +What charitable men afford to beggars. + +Third Stranger +Religion groans at it. + +First Stranger +For mine own part, +I never tasted Timon in my life, +Nor came any of his bounties over me, +To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest, +For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue +And honourable carriage, +Had his necessity made use of me, +I would have put my wealth into donation, +And the best half should have return'd to him, +So much I love his heart: but, I perceive, +Men must learn now with pity to dispense; +For policy sits above conscience. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Sempronius' house. + +Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's +SEMPRONIUS +Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove +all others? +He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; +And now Ventidius is wealthy too, +Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these +Owe their estates unto him. + +Servant +My lord, +They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for +They have au denied him. + +SEMPRONIUS +How! have they denied him? +Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him? +And does he send to me? Three? hum! +It shows but little love or judgment in him: +Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like +physicians, +Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me? +Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him, +That might have known my place: I see no sense for't, +But his occasion might have woo'd me first; +For, in my conscience, I was the first man +That e'er received gift from him: +And does he think so backwardly of me now, +That I'll requite its last? No: +So it may prove an argument of laughter +To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool. +I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum, +Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake; +I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return, +And with their faint reply this answer join; +Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. + +Exit + +Servant +Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The +devil knew not what he did when he made man +politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot +think but, in the end, the villainies of man will +set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to +appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked, +like those that under hot ardent zeal would set +whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his +politic love. +This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, +Save only the gods: now his friends are dead, +Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards +Many a bounteous year must be employ'd +Now to guard sure their master. +And this is all a liberal course allows; +Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out +Varro's + +First Servant +Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. + +TITUS +The like to you kind Varro. + +HORTENSIUS +Lucius! +What, do we meet together? +Lucilius' Servant Ay, and I think +One business does command us all; for mine Is money. + +TITUS +So is theirs and ours. + +Enter PHILOTUS + +Lucilius' Servant And Sir Philotus too! + +PHILOTUS +Good day at once. +Lucilius' Servant Welcome, good brother. +What do you think the hour? + +PHILOTUS +Labouring for nine. +Lucilius' Servant So much? + +PHILOTUS +Is not my lord seen yet? +Lucilius' Servant Not yet. + +PHILOTUS +I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him: +You must consider that a prodigal course +Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable. +I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse; +That is one may reach deep enough, and yet +Find little. + +PHILOTUS +I am of your fear for that. + +TITUS +I'll show you how to observe a strange event. +Your lord sends now for money. + +HORTENSIUS +Most true, he does. + +TITUS +And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, +For which I wait for money. + +HORTENSIUS +It is against my heart. +Lucilius' Servant Mark, how strange it shows, +Timon in this should pay more than he owes: +And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels, +And send for money for 'em. + +HORTENSIUS +I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness: +I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, +And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. +Varro's + +First Servant +Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand mine. +Varro's + +First Servant +'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun, +Your master's confidence was above mine; +Else, surely, his had equall'd. +Enter FLAMINIUS. + +TITUS +One of Lord Timon's men. +Lucilius' Servant Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to +come forth? + +FLAMINIUS +No, indeed, he is not. + +TITUS +We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. + +FLAMINIUS +I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent. + +Exit + +Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled + +Lucilius' Servant Ha! is not that his steward muffled so? +He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him. + +TITUS +Do you hear, sir? +Varro's + +Second Servant +By your leave, sir,-- + +FLAVIUS +What do ye ask of me, my friend? + +TITUS +We wait for certain money here, sir. + +FLAVIUS +Ay, +If money were as certain as your waiting, +'Twere sure enough. +Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills, +When your false masters eat of my lord's meat? +Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts +And take down the interest into their +gluttonous maws. +You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up; +Let me pass quietly: +Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end; +I have no more to reckon, he to spend. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but this answer will not serve. + +FLAVIUS +If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you; +For you serve knaves. + +Exit + +Varro's + +First Servant +How! what does his cashiered worship mutter? +Varro's + +Second Servant +No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge +enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no +house to put his head in? such may rail against +great buildings. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +TITUS +O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer. + +SERVILIUS +If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some +other hour, I should derive much from't; for, +take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to +discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him; +he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber. +Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick: +And, if it be so far beyond his health, +Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts, +And make a clear way to the gods. + +SERVILIUS +Good gods! + +TITUS +We cannot take this for answer, sir. + +FLAMINIUS +[Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! + +Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following + +TIMON +What, are my doors opposed against my passage? +Have I been ever free, and must my house +Be my retentive enemy, my gaol? +The place which I have feasted, does it now, +Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? +Lucilius' Servant Put in now, Titus. + +TITUS +My lord, here is my bill. +Lucilius' Servant Here's mine. + +HORTENSIUS +And mine, my lord. +Both +Varro's Servants And ours, my lord. + +PHILOTUS +All our bills. + +TIMON +Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle. +Lucilius' Servant Alas, my lord,- + +TIMON +Cut my heart in sums. + +TITUS +Mine, fifty talents. + +TIMON +Tell out my blood. +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand crowns, my lord. + +TIMON +Five thousand drops pays that. +What yours?--and yours? +Varro's + +First Servant +My lord,-- +Varro's + +Second Servant +My lord,-- + +TIMON +Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! + +Exit + +HORTENSIUS +'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps +at their money: these debts may well be called +desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. + +Exeunt + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +TIMON +They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. +Creditors? devils! + +FLAVIUS +My dear lord,-- + +TIMON +What if it should be so? + +FLAVIUS +My lord,-- + +TIMON +I'll have it so. My steward! + +FLAVIUS +Here, my lord. + +TIMON +So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, +Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: +All, sirrah, all: +I'll once more feast the rascals. + +FLAVIUS +O my lord, +You only speak from your distracted soul; +There is not so much left, to furnish out +A moderate table. + +TIMON +Be't not in thy care; go, +I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide +Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting. +First Senator +My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's +Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die: +Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. + +Second Senator +Most true; the law shall bruise him. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants + +ALCIBIADES +Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! + +First Senator +Now, captain? + +ALCIBIADES +I am an humble suitor to your virtues; +For pity is the virtue of the law, +And none but tyrants use it cruelly. +It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy +Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, +Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth +To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't. +He is a man, setting his fate aside, +Of comely virtues: +Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-- +An honour in him which buys out his fault-- +But with a noble fury and fair spirit, +Seeing his reputation touch'd to death, +He did oppose his foe: +And with such sober and unnoted passion +He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, +As if he had but proved an argument. + +First Senator +You undergo too strict a paradox, +Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: +Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd +To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling +Upon the head of valour; which indeed +Is valour misbegot and came into the world +When sects and factions were newly born: +He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer +The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs +His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, +carelessly, +And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, +To bring it into danger. +If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, +What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill! + +ALCIBIADES +My lord,-- + +First Senator +You cannot make gross sins look clear: +To revenge is no valour, but to bear. + +ALCIBIADES +My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, +If I speak like a captain. +Why do fond men expose themselves to battle, +And not endure all threats? sleep upon't, +And let the foes quietly cut their throats, +Without repugnancy? If there be +Such valour in the bearing, what make we +Abroad? why then, women are more valiant +That stay at home, if bearing carry it, +And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon +Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, +If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, +As you are great, be pitifully good: +Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? +To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust; +But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just. +To be in anger is impiety; +But who is man that is not angry? +Weigh but the crime with this. + +Second Senator +You breathe in vain. + +ALCIBIADES +In vain! his service done +At Lacedaemon and Byzantium +Were a sufficient briber for his life. + +First Senator +What's that? + +ALCIBIADES +I say, my lords, he has done fair service, +And slain in fight many of your enemies: +How full of valour did he bear himself +In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! + +Second Senator +He has made too much plenty with 'em; +He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often +Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner: +If there were no foes, that were enough +To overcome him: in that beastly fury +He has been known to commit outrages, +And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us, +His days are foul and his drink dangerous. + +First Senator +He dies. + +ALCIBIADES +Hard fate! he might have died in war. +My lords, if not for any parts in him-- +Though his right arm might purchase his own time +And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you, +Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both: +And, for I know your reverend ages love +Security, I'll pawn my victories, all +My honours to you, upon his good returns. +If by this crime he owes the law his life, +Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore +For law is strict, and war is nothing more. + +First Senator +We are for law: he dies; urge it no more, +On height of our displeasure: friend or brother, +He forfeits his own blood that spills another. + +ALCIBIADES +Must it be so? it must not be. My lords, +I do beseech you, know me. + +Second Senator +How! + +ALCIBIADES +Call me to your remembrances. + +Third Senator +What! + +ALCIBIADES +I cannot think but your age has forgot me; +It could not else be, I should prove so base, +To sue, and be denied such common grace: +My wounds ache at you. + +First Senator +Do you dare our anger? +'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect; +We banish thee for ever. + +ALCIBIADES +Banish me! +Banish your dotage; banish usury, +That makes the senate ugly. + +First Senator +If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee, +Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell +our spirit, +He shall be executed presently. + +Exeunt Senators + +ALCIBIADES +Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live +Only in bone, that none may look on you! +I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes, +While they have told their money and let out +Their coin upon large interest, I myself +Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? +Is this the balsam that the usuring senate +Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment! +It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd; +It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, +That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up +My discontented troops, and lay for hearts. +'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds; +Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. + +Exit + +SCENE VI. The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Music. Tables set out: Servants attending. Enter divers Lords, Senators and others, at several doors +First Lord +The good time of day to you, sir. + +Second Lord +I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord +did but try us this other day. + +First Lord +Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we +encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as +he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. + +Second Lord +It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. + +First Lord +I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest +inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me +to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and +I must needs appear. + +Second Lord +In like manner was I in debt to my importunate +business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am +sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my +provision was out. + +First Lord +I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all +things go. + +Second Lord +Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of +you? + +First Lord +A thousand pieces. + +Second Lord +A thousand pieces! + +First Lord +What of you? + +Second Lord +He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes. + +Enter TIMON and Attendants + +TIMON +With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you? + +First Lord +Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship. + +Second Lord +The swallow follows not summer more willing than we +your lordship. + +TIMON +[Aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter; such +summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not +recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the +music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the +trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently. + +First Lord +I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship +that I returned you an empty messenger. + +TIMON +O, sir, let it not trouble you. + +Second Lord +My noble lord,-- + +TIMON +Ah, my good friend, what cheer? + +Second Lord +My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame, +that, when your lordship this other day sent to me, +I was so unfortunate a beggar. + +TIMON +Think not on 't, sir. + +Second Lord +If you had sent but two hours before,-- + +TIMON +Let it not cumber your better remembrance. + +The banquet brought in + +Come, bring in all together. + +Second Lord +All covered dishes! + +First Lord +Royal cheer, I warrant you. + +Third Lord +Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield +it. + +First Lord +How do you? What's the news? + +Third Lord +Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it? + +First Lord Second Lord +Alcibiades banished! + +Third Lord +'Tis so, be sure of it. + +First Lord +How! how! + +Second Lord +I pray you, upon what? + +TIMON +My worthy friends, will you draw near? + +Third Lord +I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward. + +Second Lord +This is the old man still. + +Third Lord +Will 't hold? will 't hold? + +Second Lord +It does: but time will--and so-- + +Third Lord +I do conceive. + +TIMON +Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to +the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all +places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let +the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place: +sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. +You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with +thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves +praised: but reserve still to give, lest your +deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that +one need not lend to another; for, were your +godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the +gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man +that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without +a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at +the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The +rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens, +together with the common lag of people--what is +amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for +destruction. For these my present friends, as they +are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to +nothing are they welcome. +Uncover, dogs, and lap. + +The dishes are uncovered and seen to be full of warm water + +Some Speak +What does his lordship mean? + +Some Others +I know not. + +TIMON +May you a better feast never behold, +You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water +Is your perfection. This is Timon's last; +Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, +Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces +Your reeking villany. + +Throwing the water in their faces + +Live loathed and long, +Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, +Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, +You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies, +Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! +Of man and beast the infinite malady +Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go? +Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;-- +Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. + +Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out + +What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast, +Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. +Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be +Of Timon man and all humanity! + +Exit + +Re-enter the Lords, Senators, & c + +First Lord +How now, my lords! + +Second Lord +Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury? + +Third Lord +Push! did you see my cap? + +Fourth Lord +I have lost my gown. + +First Lord +He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. +He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has +beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel? + +Third Lord +Did you see my cap? + +Second Lord +Here 'tis. + +Fourth Lord +Here lies my gown. + +First Lord +Let's make no stay. + +Second Lord +Lord Timon's mad. + +Third Lord +I feel 't upon my bones. + +Fourth Lord +One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens. + +Enter TIMON +TIMON +Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, +That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, +And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! +Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, +Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, +And minister in their steads! to general filths +Convert o' the instant, green virginity, +Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; +Rather than render back, out with your knives, +And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! +Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, +And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; +Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, +pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, +With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, +Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, +Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, +Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, +Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, +Decline to your confounding contraries, +And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, +Your potent and infectious fevers heap +On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, +Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt +As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty +Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, +That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, +And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, +Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop +Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, +at their society, as their friendship, may +merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, +But nakedness, thou detestable town! +Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! +Timon will to the woods; where he shall find +The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. +The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all-- +The Athenians both within and out that wall! +And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow +To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants +First Servant +Hear you, master steward, where's our master? +Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining? + +FLAVIUS +Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? +Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, +I am as poor as you. + +First Servant +Such a house broke! +So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not +One friend to take his fortune by the arm, +And go along with him! + +Second Servant +As we do turn our backs +From our companion thrown into his grave, +So his familiars to his buried fortunes +Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, +Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self, +A dedicated beggar to the air, +With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, +Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows. + +Enter other Servants + +FLAVIUS +All broken implements of a ruin'd house. + +Third Servant +Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery; +That see I by our faces; we are fellows still, +Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark, +And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, +Hearing the surges threat: we must all part +Into this sea of air. + +FLAVIUS +Good fellows all, +The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. +Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake, +Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say, +As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes, +'We have seen better days.' Let each take some; +Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: +Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. + +Servants embrace, and part several ways + +O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! +Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, +Since riches point to misery and contempt? +Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live +But in a dream of friendship? +To have his pomp and all what state compounds +But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? +Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, +Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood, +When man's worst sin is, he does too much good! +Who, then, dares to be half so kind again? +For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. +My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed, +Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes +Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! +He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat +Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to +Supply his life, or that which can command it. +I'll follow and inquire him out: +I'll ever serve his mind with my best will; +Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore. + +Enter TIMON, from the cave +O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth +Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb +Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb, +Whose procreation, residence, and birth, +Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes; +The greater scorns the lesser: not nature, +To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, +But by contempt of nature. +Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; +The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, +The beggar native honour. +It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, +The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, +In purity of manhood stand upright, +And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be, +So are they all; for every grise of fortune +Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate +Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique; +There's nothing level in our cursed natures, +But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd +All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! +His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: +Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! + +Digging + +Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate +With thy most operant poison! What is here? +Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, +I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! +Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, +Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. +Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this +Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, +Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: +This yellow slave +Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed, +Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves +And give them title, knee and approbation +With senators on the bench: this is it +That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; +She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores +Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices +To the April day again. Come, damned earth, +Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds +Among the route of nations, I will make thee +Do thy right nature. + +March afar off + +Ha! a drum ? Thou'rt quick, +But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, +When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. +Nay, stay thou out for earnest. + +Keeping some gold + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA + +ALCIBIADES +What art thou there? speak. + +TIMON +A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, +For showing me again the eyes of man! + +ALCIBIADES +What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, +That art thyself a man? + +TIMON +I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. +For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, +That I might love thee something. + +ALCIBIADES +I know thee well; +But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. + +TIMON +I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, +I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; +With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules: +Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; +Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine +Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, +For all her cherubim look. + +PHRYNIA +Thy lips rot off! + +TIMON +I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns +To thine own lips again. + +ALCIBIADES +How came the noble Timon to this change? + +TIMON +As the moon does, by wanting light to give: +But then renew I could not, like the moon; +There were no suns to borrow of. + +ALCIBIADES +Noble Timon, +What friendship may I do thee? + +TIMON +None, but to +Maintain my opinion. + +ALCIBIADES +What is it, Timon? + +TIMON +Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou +wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art +a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for +thou art a man! + +ALCIBIADES +I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. + +TIMON +Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. + +ALCIBIADES +I see them now; then was a blessed time. + +TIMON +As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. + +TIMANDRA +Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world +Voiced so regardfully? + +TIMON +Art thou Timandra? + +TIMANDRA +Yes. + +TIMON +Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; +Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. +Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves +For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth +To the tub-fast and the diet. + +TIMANDRA +Hang thee, monster! + +ALCIBIADES +Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits +Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. +I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, +The want whereof doth daily make revolt +In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved, +How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, +Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, +But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-- + +TIMON +I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. + +ALCIBIADES +I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. + +TIMON +How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? +I had rather be alone. + +ALCIBIADES +Why, fare thee well: +Here is some gold for thee. + +TIMON +Keep it, I cannot eat it. + +ALCIBIADES +When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-- + +TIMON +Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, Timon, and have cause. + +TIMON +The gods confound them all in thy conquest; +And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! + +ALCIBIADES +Why me, Timon? + +TIMON +That, by killing of villains, +Thou wast born to conquer my country. +Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; +Be as a planetary plague, when Jove +Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison +In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: +Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; +He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; +It is her habit only that is honest, +Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek +Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, +That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, +Are not within the leaf of pity writ, +But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, +Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; +Think it a bastard, whom the oracle +Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, +And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; +Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; +Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, +Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, +Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: +Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, +Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. + +ALCIBIADES +Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou +givest me, +Not all thy counsel. + +TIMON +Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse +upon thee! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? + +TIMON +Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, +And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, +Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable, +Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear +Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues +The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths, +I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still; +And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, +Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; +Let your close fire predominate his smoke, +And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months, +Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs +With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, +No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still; +Paint till a horse may mire upon your face, +A pox of wrinkles! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Well, more gold: what then? +Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. + +TIMON +Consumptions sow +In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, +And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, +That he may never more false title plead, +Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, +That scolds against the quality of flesh, +And not believes himself: down with the nose, +Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away +Of him that, his particular to foresee, +Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate +ruffians bald; +And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war +Derive some pain from you: plague all; +That your activity may defeat and quell +The source of all erection. There's more gold: +Do you damn others, and let this damn you, +And ditches grave you all! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. + +TIMON +More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. + +ALCIBIADES +Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: +If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. + +TIMON +If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. + +ALCIBIADES +I never did thee harm. + +TIMON +Yes, thou spokest well of me. + +ALCIBIADES +Call'st thou that harm? + +TIMON +Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take +Thy beagles with thee. + +ALCIBIADES +We but offend him. Strike! + +Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA + +TIMON +That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, +Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, + +Digging + +Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, +Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, +Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd, +Engenders the black toad and adder blue, +The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm, +With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven +Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; +Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, +From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! +Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, +Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! +Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; +Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face +Hath to the marbled mansion all above +Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!-- +Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; +Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts +And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, +That from it all consideration slips! + +Enter APEMANTUS + +More man? plague, plague! + +APEMANTUS +I was directed hither: men report +Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. + +TIMON +'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, +Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee! + +APEMANTUS +This is in thee a nature but infected; +A poor unmanly melancholy sprung +From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place? +This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? +Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; +Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot +That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, +By putting on the cunning of a carper. +Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive +By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, +And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, +Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, +And call it excellent: thou wast told thus; +Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome +To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just +That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, +Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. + +TIMON +Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself. + +APEMANTUS +Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; +A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st +That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, +Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees, +That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, +And skip where thou point'st out? will the +cold brook, +Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, +To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures +Whose naked natures live in an the spite +Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, +To the conflicting elements exposed, +Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; +O, thou shalt find-- + +TIMON +A fool of thee: depart. + +APEMANTUS +I love thee better now than e'er I did. + +TIMON +I hate thee worse. + +APEMANTUS +Why? + +TIMON +Thou flatter'st misery. + +APEMANTUS +I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff. + +TIMON +Why dost thou seek me out? + +APEMANTUS +To vex thee. + +TIMON +Always a villain's office or a fool's. +Dost please thyself in't? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +What! a knave too? + +APEMANTUS +If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on +To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou +Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, +Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery +Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before: +The one is filling still, never complete; +The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, +Hath a distracted and most wretched being, +Worse than the worst, content. +Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. + +TIMON +Not by his breath that is more miserable. +Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm +With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog. +Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded +The sweet degrees that this brief world affords +To such as may the passive drugs of it +Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself +In general riot; melted down thy youth +In different beds of lust; and never learn'd +The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd +The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, +Who had the world as my confectionary, +The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men +At duty, more than I could frame employment, +That numberless upon me stuck as leaves +Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush +Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare +For every storm that blows: I, to bear this, +That never knew but better, is some burden: +Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time +Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? +They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? +If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, +Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff +To some she beggar and compounded thee +Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone! +If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, +Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. + +APEMANTUS +Art thou proud yet? + +TIMON +Ay, that I am not thee. + +APEMANTUS +I, that I was +No prodigal. + +TIMON +I, that I am one now: +Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, +I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. +That the whole life of Athens were in this! +Thus would I eat it. + +Eating a root + +APEMANTUS +Here; I will mend thy feast. + +Offering him a root + +TIMON +First mend my company, take away thyself. + +APEMANTUS +So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. + +TIMON +'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; +if not, I would it were. + +APEMANTUS +What wouldst thou have to Athens? + +TIMON +Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, +Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. + +APEMANTUS +Here is no use for gold. + +TIMON +The best and truest; +For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. + +APEMANTUS +Where liest o' nights, Timon? + +TIMON +Under that's above me. +Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat +it. + +TIMON +Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! + +APEMANTUS +Where wouldst thou send it? + +TIMON +To sauce thy dishes. + +APEMANTUS +The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the +extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt +and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much +curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art +despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for +thee, eat it. + +TIMON +On what I hate I feed not. + +APEMANTUS +Dost hate a medlar? + +TIMON +Ay, though it look like thee. + +APEMANTUS +An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst +have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou +ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? + +TIMON +Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou +ever know beloved? + +APEMANTUS +Myself. + +TIMON +I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a +dog. + +APEMANTUS +What things in the world canst thou nearest compare +to thy flatterers? + +TIMON +Women nearest; but men, men are the things +themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, +Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? + +APEMANTUS +Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. + +TIMON +Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of +men, and remain a beast with the beasts? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, Timon. + +TIMON +A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' +attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would +beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would +eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would +suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by +the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would +torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a +breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy +greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst +hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the +unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and +make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert +thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse: +wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the +leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to +the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on +thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy +defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that +were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art +thou already, that seest not thy loss in +transformation! + +APEMANTUS +If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou +mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of +Athens is become a forest of beasts. + +TIMON +How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? + +APEMANTUS +Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of +company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it +and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll +see thee again. + +TIMON +When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be +welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. + +TIMON +Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! + +APEMANTUS +A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse. + +TIMON +All villains that do stand by thee are pure. + +APEMANTUS +There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. + +TIMON +If I name thee. +I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. + +APEMANTUS +I would my tongue could rot them off! + +TIMON +Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! +Choler does kill me that thou art alive; +I swound to see thee. + +APEMANTUS +Would thou wouldst burst! + +TIMON +Away, +Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose +A stone by thee. + +Throws a stone at him + +APEMANTUS +Beast! + +TIMON +Slave! + +APEMANTUS +Toad! + +TIMON +Rogue, rogue, rogue! +I am sick of this false world, and will love nought +But even the mere necessities upon 't. +Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; +Lie where the light foam the sea may beat +Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, +That death in me at others' lives may laugh. + +To the gold + +O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce +'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler +Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! +Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, +Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow +That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, +That solder'st close impossibilities, +And makest them kiss! that speak'st with +every tongue, +To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! +Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue +Set them into confounding odds, that beasts +May have the world in empire! + +APEMANTUS +Would 'twere so! +But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold: +Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. + +TIMON +Throng'd to! + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Thy back, I prithee. + +APEMANTUS +Live, and love thy misery. + +TIMON +Long live so, and so die. + +Exit APEMANTUS + +I am quit. +Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. + +Enter Banditti + +First Bandit +Where should he have this gold? It is some poor +fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the +mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his +friends, drove him into this melancholy. + +Second Bandit +It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. + +Third Bandit +Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not +for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously +reserve it, how shall's get it? + +Second Bandit +True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. + +First Bandit +Is not this he? + +Banditti +Where? + +Second Bandit +'Tis his description. + +Third Bandit +He; I know him. + +Banditti +Save thee, Timon. + +TIMON +Now, thieves? + +Banditti +Soldiers, not thieves. + +TIMON +Both too; and women's sons. + +Banditti +We are not thieves, but men that much do want. + +TIMON +Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. +Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; +Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; +The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; +The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush +Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? + +First Bandit +We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, +As beasts and birds and fishes. + +TIMON +Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; +You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con +That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not +In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft +In limited professions. Rascal thieves, +Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, +Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, +And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; +His antidotes are poison, and he slays +Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; +Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, +Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. +The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction +Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, +And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: +The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves +The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, +That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen +From general excrement: each thing's a thief: +The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power +Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, +Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: +All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, +Break open shops; nothing can you steal, +But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this +I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. + +Third Bandit +Has almost charmed me from my profession, by +persuading me to it. + +First Bandit +'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises +us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. + +Second Bandit +I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. + +First Bandit +Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time +so miserable but a man may be true. + +Exeunt Banditti + +Enter FLAVIUS + +FLAVIUS +O you gods! +Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? +Full of decay and failing? O monument +And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! +What an alteration of honour +Has desperate want made! +What viler thing upon the earth than friends +Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! +How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, +When man was wish'd to love his enemies! +Grant I may ever love, and rather woo +Those that would mischief me than those that do! +Has caught me in his eye: I will present +My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, +Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! + +TIMON +Away! what art thou? + +FLAVIUS +Have you forgot me, sir? + +TIMON +Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; +Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. + +FLAVIUS +An honest poor servant of yours. + +TIMON +Then I know thee not: +I never had honest man about me, I; all +I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. + +FLAVIUS +The gods are witness, +Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief +For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. + +TIMON +What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I +love thee, +Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st +Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give +But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: +Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! + +FLAVIUS +I beg of you to know me, good my lord, +To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts +To entertain me as your steward still. + +TIMON +Had I a steward +So true, so just, and now so comfortable? +It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. +Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man +Was born of woman. +Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, +You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim +One honest man--mistake me not--but one; +No more, I pray,--and he's a steward. +How fain would I have hated all mankind! +And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, +I fell with curses. +Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; +For, by oppressing and betraying me, +Thou mightst have sooner got another service: +For many so arrive at second masters, +Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- +For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- +Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, +If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, +Expecting in return twenty for one? + +FLAVIUS +No, my most worthy master; in whose breast +Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: +You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: +Suspect still comes where an estate is least. +That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, +Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, +Care of your food and living; and, believe it, +My most honour'd lord, +For any benefit that points to me, +Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange +For this one wish, that you had power and wealth +To requite me, by making rich yourself. + +TIMON +Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, +Here, take: the gods out of my misery +Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; +But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; +Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, +But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, +Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs +What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, +Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like +blasted woods, +And may diseases lick up their false bloods! +And so farewell and thrive. + +FLAVIUS +O, let me stay, +And comfort you, my master. + +TIMON +If thou hatest curses, +Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free: +Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. + +Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave. + +Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave +Painter +As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where +he abides. + +Poet +What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold +for true, that he's so full of gold? + +Painter +Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and +Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor +straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said +he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. + +Poet +Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. + +Painter +Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens +again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore +'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this +supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in +us; and is very likely to load our purposes with +what they travail for, if it be a just true report +that goes of his having. + +Poet +What have you now to present unto him? + +Painter +Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will +promise him an excellent piece. + +Poet +I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent +that's coming toward him. + +Painter +Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the +time: it opens the eyes of expectation: +performance is ever the duller for his act; and, +but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the +deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is +most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind +of will or testament which argues a great sickness +in his judgment that makes it. + +TIMON comes from his cave, behind + +TIMON +[Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a +man so bad as is thyself. + +Poet +I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for +him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire +against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery +of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency. + +TIMON +[Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in +thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in +other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. + +Poet +Nay, let's seek him: +Then do we sin against our own estate, +When we may profit meet, and come too late. + +Painter +True; +When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, +Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. + +TIMON +[Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a +god's gold, +That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple +Than where swine feed! +'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam, +Settlest admired reverence in a slave: +To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye +Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey! +Fit I meet them. + +Coming forward + +Poet +Hail, worthy Timon! + +Painter +Our late noble master! + +TIMON +Have I once lived to see two honest men? + +Poet +Sir, +Having often of your open bounty tasted, +Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off, +Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!-- +Not all the whips of heaven are large enough: +What! to you, +Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence +To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover +The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude +With any size of words. + +TIMON +Let it go naked, men may see't the better: +You that are honest, by being what you are, +Make them best seen and known. + +Painter +He and myself +Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts, +And sweetly felt it. + +TIMON +Ay, you are honest men. + +Painter +We are hither come to offer you our service. + +TIMON +Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? +Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. + +Both +What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. + +TIMON +Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold; +I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. + +Painter +So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore +Came not my friend nor I. + +TIMON +Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit +Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best; +Thou counterfeit'st most lively. + +Painter +So, so, my lord. + +TIMON +E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction, +Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth +That thou art even natural in thine art. +But, for all this, my honest-natured friends, +I must needs say you have a little fault: +Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I +You take much pains to mend. + +Both +Beseech your honour +To make it known to us. + +TIMON +You'll take it ill. + +Both +Most thankfully, my lord. + +TIMON +Will you, indeed? + +Both +Doubt it not, worthy lord. + +TIMON +There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, +That mightily deceives you. + +Both +Do we, my lord? + +TIMON +Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, +Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, +Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured +That he's a made-up villain. + +Painter +I know none such, my lord. + +Poet +Nor I. + +TIMON +Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, +Rid me these villains from your companies: +Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught, +Confound them by some course, and come to me, +I'll give you gold enough. + +Both +Name them, my lord, let's know them. + +TIMON +You that way and you this, but two in company; +Each man apart, all single and alone, +Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. +If where thou art two villains shall not be, +Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside +But where one villain is, then him abandon. +Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves: + +To Painter + +You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence! + +To Poet + +You are an alchemist; make gold of that. +Out, rascal dogs! + +Beats them out, and then retires to his cave + +Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators + +FLAVIUS +It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; +For he is set so only to himself +That nothing but himself which looks like man +Is friendly with him. + +First Senator +Bring us to his cave: +It is our part and promise to the Athenians +To speak with Timon. + +Second Senator +At all times alike +Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs +That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand, +Offering the fortunes of his former days, +The former man may make him. Bring us to him, +And chance it as it may. + +FLAVIUS +Here is his cave. +Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! +Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, +By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: +Speak to them, noble Timon. + +TIMON comes from his cave + +TIMON +Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and +be hang'd: +For each true word, a blister! and each false +Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue, +Consuming it with speaking! + +First Senator +Worthy Timon,-- + +TIMON +Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. + +First Senator +The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. + +TIMON +I thank them; and would send them back the plague, +Could I but catch it for them. + +First Senator +O, forget +What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. +The senators with one consent of love +Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought +On special dignities, which vacant lie +For thy best use and wearing. + +Second Senator +They confess +Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross: +Which now the public body, which doth seldom +Play the recanter, feeling in itself +A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal +Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon; +And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render, +Together with a recompense more fruitful +Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; +Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth +As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs +And write in thee the figures of their love, +Ever to read them thine. + +TIMON +You witch me in it; +Surprise me to the very brink of tears: +Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, +And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. + +First Senator +Therefore, so please thee to return with us +And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take +The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, +Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name +Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back +Of Alcibiades the approaches wild, +Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up +His country's peace. + +Second Senator +And shakes his threatening sword +Against the walls of Athens. + +First Senator +Therefore, Timon,-- + +TIMON +Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: +If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, +Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, +That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens, +And take our goodly aged men by the beards, +Giving our holy virgins to the stain +Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war, +Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it, +In pity of our aged and our youth, +I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, +And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, +While you have throats to answer: for myself, +There's not a whittle in the unruly camp +But I do prize it at my love before +The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you +To the protection of the prosperous gods, +As thieves to keepers. + +FLAVIUS +Stay not, all's in vain. + +TIMON +Why, I was writing of my epitaph; +it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness +Of health and living now begins to mend, +And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; +Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, +And last so long enough! + +First Senator +We speak in vain. + +TIMON +But yet I love my country, and am not +One that rejoices in the common wreck, +As common bruit doth put it. + +First Senator +That's well spoke. + +TIMON +Commend me to my loving countrymen,-- + +First Senator +These words become your lips as they pass +thorough them. + +Second Senator +And enter in our ears like great triumphers +In their applauding gates. + +TIMON +Commend me to them, +And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, +Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, +Their pangs of love, with other incident throes +That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain +In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: +I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. + +First Senator +I like this well; he will return again. + +TIMON +I have a tree, which grows here in my close, +That mine own use invites me to cut down, +And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends, +Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree +From high to low throughout, that whoso please +To stop affliction, let him take his haste, +Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, +And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. + +FLAVIUS +Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him. + +TIMON +Come not to me again: but say to Athens, +Timon hath made his everlasting mansion +Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; +Who once a day with his embossed froth +The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, +And let my grave-stone be your oracle. +Lips, let sour words go by and language end: +What is amiss plague and infection mend! +Graves only be men's works and death their gain! +Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. + +Retires to his cave + +First Senator +His discontents are unremoveably +Coupled to nature. + +Second Senator +Our hope in him is dead: let us return, +And strain what other means is left unto us +In our dear peril. + +First Senator +It requires swift foot. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. + +Enter two Senators and a Messenger +First Senator +Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files +As full as thy report? + +Messenger +have spoke the least: +Besides, his expedition promises +Present approach. + +Second Senator +We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. + +Messenger +I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; +Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force, +And made us speak like friends: this man was riding +From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, +With letters of entreaty, which imported +His fellowship i' the cause against your city, +In part for his sake moved. + +First Senator +Here come our brothers. + +Enter the Senators from TIMON + +Third Senator +No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. +The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring +Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: +Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen. + +Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON +Soldier +By all description this should be the place. +Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this? +Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: +Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. +Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb +I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: +Our captain hath in every figure skill, +An aged interpreter, though young in days: +Before proud Athens he's set down by this, +Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens. + +Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers +ALCIBIADES +Sound to this coward and lascivious town +Our terrible approach. + +A parley sounded + +Enter Senators on the walls + +Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time +With all licentious measure, making your wills +The scope of justice; till now myself and such +As slept within the shadow of your power +Hav e wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed +Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush, +When crouching marrow in the bearer strong +Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong +Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, +And pursy insolence shall break his wind +With fear and horrid flight. + +First Senator +Noble and young, +When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, +Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, +We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm, +To wipe out our ingratitude with loves +Above their quantity. + +Second Senator +So did we woo +Transformed Timon to our city's love +By humble message and by promised means: +We were not all unkind, nor all deserve +The common stroke of war. + +First Senator +These walls of ours +Were not erected by their hands from whom +You have received your griefs; nor are they such +That these great towers, trophies and schools +should fall +For private faults in them. + +Second Senator +Nor are they living +Who were the motives that you first went out; +Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess +Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, +Into our city with thy banners spread: +By decimation, and a tithed death-- +If thy revenges hunger for that food +Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth, +And by the hazard of the spotted die +Let die the spotted. + +First Senator +All have not offended; +For those that were, it is not square to take +On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, +Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, +Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage: +Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin +Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall +With those that have offended: like a shepherd, +Approach the fold and cull the infected forth, +But kill not all together. + +Second Senator +What thou wilt, +Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile +Than hew to't with thy sword. + +First Senator +Set but thy foot +Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope; +So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, +To say thou'lt enter friendly. + +Second Senator +Throw thy glove, +Or any token of thine honour else, +That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress +And not as our confusion, all thy powers +Shall make their harbour in our town, till we +Have seal'd thy full desire. + +ALCIBIADES +Then there's my glove; +Descend, and open your uncharged ports: +Those enemies of Timon's and mine own +Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof +Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears +With my more noble meaning, not a man +Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream +Of regular justice in your city's bounds, +But shall be render'd to your public laws +At heaviest answer. + +Both +'Tis most nobly spoken. + +ALCIBIADES +Descend, and keep your words. + +The Senators descend, and open the gates + +Enter Soldier + +Soldier +My noble general, Timon is dead; +Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; +And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which +With wax I brought away, whose soft impression +Interprets for my poor ignorance. + +ALCIBIADES +[Reads the epitaph] 'Here lies a +wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: +Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked +caitiffs left! +Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: +Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay +not here thy gait.' +These well express in thee thy latter spirits: +Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, +Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our +droplets which +From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit +Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye +On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead +Is noble Timon: of whose memory +Hereafter more. Bring me into your city, +And I will use the olive with my sword, +Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each +Prescribe to other as each other's leech. +Let our drums strike. + +Exeunt +Titus Andronicus +Shakespeare homepage | Titus Andronicus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol. + +The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours +SATURNINUS +Noble patricians, patrons of my right, +Defend the justice of my cause with arms, +And, countrymen, my loving followers, +Plead my successive title with your swords: +I am his first-born son, that was the last +That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; +Then let my father's honours live in me, +Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + +BASSIANUS +Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, +If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, +Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, +Keep then this passage to the Capitol +And suffer not dishonour to approach +The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, +To justice, continence and nobility; +But let desert in pure election shine, +And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. + +Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Princes, that strive by factions and by friends +Ambitiously for rule and empery, +Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand +A special party, have, by common voice, +In election for the Roman empery, +Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius +For many good and great deserts to Rome: +A nobler man, a braver warrior, +Lives not this day within the city walls: +He by the senate is accit'd home +From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; +That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, +Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms. +Ten years are spent since first he undertook +This cause of Rome and chastised with arms +Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd +Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons +In coffins from the field; +And now at last, laden with horror's spoils, +Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, +Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. +Let us entreat, by honour of his name, +Whom worthily you would have now succeed. +And in the Capitol and senate's right, +Whom you pretend to honour and adore, +That you withdraw you and abate your strength; +Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, +Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + +SATURNINUS +How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! + +BASSIANUS +Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally +In thy uprightness and integrity, +And so I love and honour thee and thine, +Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, +And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, +Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, +That I will here dismiss my loving friends, +And to my fortunes and the people's favor +Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. + +Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS + +SATURNINUS +Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, +I thank you all and here dismiss you all, +And to the love and favor of my country +Commit myself, my person and the cause. + +Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS + +Rome, be as just and gracious unto me +As I am confident and kind to thee. +Open the gates, and let me in. + +BASSIANUS +Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol + +Enter a Captain + +Captain +Romans, make way: the good Andronicus. +Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, +Successful in the battles that he fights, +With honour and with fortune is return'd +From where he circumscribed with his sword, +And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. + +Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! +Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught, +Returns with precious jading to the bay +From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, +Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, +To re-salute his country with his tears, +Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. +Thou great defender of this Capitol, +Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! +Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, +Half of the number that King Priam had, +Behold the poor remains, alive and dead! +These that survive let Rome reward with love; +These that I bring unto their latest home, +With burial amongst their ancestors: +Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. +Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, +Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, +To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? +Make way to lay them by their brethren. + +The tomb is opened + +There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, +And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars! +O sacred receptacle of my joys, +Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, +How many sons of mine hast thou in store, +That thou wilt never render to me more! + +LUCIUS +Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, +That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile +Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, +Before this earthy prison of their bones; +That so the shadows be not unappeased, +Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I give him you, the noblest that survives, +The eldest son of this distressed queen. + +TAMORA +Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror, +Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, +A mother's tears in passion for her son: +And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, +O, think my son to be as dear to me! +Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome, +To beautify thy triumphs and return, +Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, +But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets, +For valiant doings in their country's cause? +O, if to fight for king and commonweal +Were piety in thine, it is in these. +Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood: +Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? +Draw near them then in being merciful: +Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge: +Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. +These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld +Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain +Religiously they ask a sacrifice: +To this your son is mark'd, and die he must, +To appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + +LUCIUS +Away with him! and make a fire straight; +And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, +Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS + +TAMORA +O cruel, irreligious piety! + +CHIRON +Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? + +DEMETRIUS +Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. +Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive +To tremble under Titus' threatening looks. +Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal +The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy +With opportunity of sharp revenge +Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, +May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths-- +When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-- +To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + +Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with their swords bloody + +LUCIUS +See, lord and father, how we have perform'd +Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, +And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, +Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. +Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren, +And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Let it be so; and let Andronicus +Make this his latest farewell to their souls. + +Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb + +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; +Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, +Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! +Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, +Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, +No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! + +Enter LAVINIA + +LAVINIA +In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; +My noble lord and father, live in fame! +Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears +I render, for my brethren's obsequies; +And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy, +Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome: +O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, +Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved +The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! +Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days, +And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! + +Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes; re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, +Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, +You that survive, and you that sleep in fame! +Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, +That in your country's service drew your swords: +But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, +That hath aspired to Solon's happiness +And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. +Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, +Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, +Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, +This palliament of white and spotless hue; +And name thee in election for the empire, +With these our late-deceased emperor's sons: +Be candidatus then, and put it on, +And help to set a head on headless Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +A better head her glorious body fits +Than his that shakes for age and feebleness: +What should I don this robe, and trouble you? +Be chosen with proclamations to-day, +To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, +And set abroad new business for you all? +Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, +And led my country's strength successfully, +And buried one and twenty valiant sons, +Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, +In right and service of their noble country +Give me a staff of honour for mine age, +But not a sceptre to control the world: +Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + +SATURNINUS +Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, Prince Saturninus. + +SATURNINUS +Romans, do me right: +Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not +Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. +Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell, +Rather than rob me of the people's hearts! + +LUCIUS +Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good +That noble-minded Titus means to thee! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee +The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. + +BASSIANUS +Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, +But honour thee, and will do till I die: +My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, +I will most thankful be; and thanks to men +Of noble minds is honourable meed. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, +I ask your voices and your suffrages: +Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + +Tribunes +To gratify the good Andronicus, +And gratulate his safe return to Rome, +The people will accept whom he admits. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make, +That you create your emperor's eldest son, +Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, +Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth, +And ripen justice in this commonweal: +Then, if you will elect by my advice, +Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!' + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +With voices and applause of every sort, +Patricians and plebeians, we create +Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, +And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!' + +A long flourish till they come down + +SATURNINUS +Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done +To us in our election this day, +I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, +And will with deeds requite thy gentleness: +And, for an onset, Titus, to advance +Thy name and honourable family, +Lavinia will I make my empress, +Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, +And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse: +Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match +I hold me highly honour'd of your grace: +And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, +King and commander of our commonweal, +The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate +My sword, my chariot and my prisoners; +Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord: +Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, +Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life! +How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts +Rome shall record, and when I do forget +The least of these unspeakable deserts, +Romans, forget your fealty to me. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +[To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to +an emperor; +To him that, for your honour and your state, +Will use you nobly and your followers. + +SATURNINUS +A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue +That I would choose, were I to choose anew. +Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance: +Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, +Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome: +Princely shall be thy usage every way. +Rest on my word, and let not discontent +Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you +Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. +Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? + +LAVINIA +Not I, my lord; sith true nobility +Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go; +Ransomless here we set our prisoners free: +Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show + +BASSIANUS +Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + +Seizing LAVINIA + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord? + +BASSIANUS +Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal +To do myself this reason and this right. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice: +This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + +LUCIUS +And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard? +Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised! + +SATURNINUS +Surprised! by whom? + +BASSIANUS +By him that justly may +Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. + +Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA + +MUTIUS +Brothers, help to convey her hence away, +And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. + +MUTIUS +My lord, you pass not here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, villain boy! +Barr'st me my way in Rome? + +Stabbing MUTIUS + +MUTIUS +Help, Lucius, help! + +Dies + +During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so, +In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine; +My sons would never so dishonour me: +Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor. + +LUCIUS +Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, +That is another's lawful promised love. + +Exit + +SATURNINUS +No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, +Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: +I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; +Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, +Confederates all thus to dishonour me. +Was there none else in Rome to make a stale, +But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, +Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine, +That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O monstrous! what reproachful words are these? + +SATURNINUS +But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece +To him that flourish'd for her with his sword +A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy; +One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, +To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +These words are razors to my wounded heart. + +SATURNINUS +And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths, +That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs +Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome, +If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, +Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, +And will create thee empress of Rome, +Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? +And here I swear by all the Roman gods, +Sith priest and holy water are so near +And tapers burn so bright and every thing +In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, +I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, +Or climb my palace, till from forth this place +I lead espoused my bride along with me. + +TAMORA +And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear, +If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, +She will a handmaid be to his desires, +A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. + +SATURNINUS +Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany +Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, +Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, +Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered: +There shall we consummate our spousal rites. + +Exeunt all but TITUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I am not bid to wait upon this bride. +Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, +Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs? + +Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! +In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, +Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed +That hath dishonour'd all our family; +Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons! + +LUCIUS +But let us give him burial, as becomes; +Give Mutius burial with our brethren. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb: +This monument five hundred years hath stood, +Which I have sumptuously re-edified: +Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors +Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls: +Bury him where you can; he comes not here. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, this is impiety in you: +My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him +He must be buried with his brethren. + +QUINTUS MARTIUS +And shall, or him we will accompany. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +'And shall!' what villain was it that spake +that word? + +QUINTUS +He that would vouch it in any place but here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, would you bury him in my despite? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee +To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, +And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded: +My foes I do repute you every one; +So, trouble me no more, but get you gone. + +MARTIUS +He is not with himself; let us withdraw. + +QUINTUS +Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. + +MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,-- + +QUINTUS +Father, and in that name doth nature speak,-- + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,-- + +LUCIUS +Dear father, soul and substance of us all,-- + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter +His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, +That died in honour and Lavinia's cause. +Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous: +The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax +That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son +Did graciously plead for his funerals: +Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy +Be barr'd his entrance here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Rise, Marcus, rise. +The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw, +To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome! +Well, bury him, and bury me the next. + +MUTIUS is put into the tomb + +LUCIUS +There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, +Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. + +All +[Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; +He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, +How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths +Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I know not, Marcus; but I know it is, +Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell: +Is she not then beholding to the man +That brought her for this high good turn so far? +Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + +Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others + +SATURNINUS +So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize: +God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride! + +BASSIANUS +And you of yours, my lord! I say no more, +Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave. + +SATURNINUS +Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, +Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. + +BASSIANUS +Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own, +My truth-betrothed love and now my wife? +But let the laws of Rome determine all; +Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine. + +SATURNINUS +'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us; +But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. + +BASSIANUS +My lord, what I have done, as best I may, +Answer I must and shall do with my life. +Only thus much I give your grace to know: +By all the duties that I owe to Rome, +This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, +Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd; +That in the rescue of Lavinia +With his own hand did slay his youngest son, +In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath +To be controll'd in that he frankly gave: +Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine, +That hath express'd himself in all his deeds +A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds: +'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me. +Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, +How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine! + +TAMORA +My worthy lord, if ever Tamora +Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, +Then hear me speak in indifferently for all; +And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + +SATURNINUS +What, madam! be dishonour'd openly, +And basely put it up without revenge? + +TAMORA +Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend +I should be author to dishonour you! +But on mine honour dare I undertake +For good Lord Titus' innocence in all; +Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: +Then, at my suit, look graciously on him; +Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, +Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. + +Aside to SATURNINUS + +be won at last; +Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: +You are but newly planted in your throne; +Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, +Upon a just survey, take Titus' part, +And so supplant you for ingratitude, +Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, +Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: +I'll find a day to massacre them all +And raze their faction and their family, +The cruel father and his traitorous sons, +To whom I sued for my dear son's life, +And make them know what 'tis to let a queen +Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. + +Aloud + +Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; +Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart +That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. + +SATURNINUS +Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I thank your majesty, and her, my lord: +These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, +A Roman now adopted happily, +And must advise the emperor for his good. +This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; +And let it be mine honour, good my lord, +That I have reconciled your friends and you. +For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd +My word and promise to the emperor, +That you will be more mild and tractable. +And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia; +By my advice, all humbled on your knees, +You shall ask pardon of his majesty. + +LUCIUS +We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness, +That what we did was mildly as we might, +Tendering our sister's honour and our own. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +That, on mine honour, here I do protest. + +SATURNINUS +Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + +TAMORA +Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends: +The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace; +I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back. + +SATURNINUS +Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here, +And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, +I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up. +Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, +I found a friend, and sure as death I swore +I would not part a bachelor from the priest. +Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides, +You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. +This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +To-morrow, an it please your majesty +To hunt the panther and the hart with me, +With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. + +SATURNINUS +Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Palace. + +Enter AARON +AARON +Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, +Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft, +Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash; +Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach. +As when the golden sun salutes the morn, +And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, +Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, +And overlooks the highest-peering hills; +So Tamora: +Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, +And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. +Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts, +To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, +And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long +Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains +And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes +Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. +Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! +I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, +To wait upon this new-made empress. +To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, +This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, +This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine, +And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's. +Holloa! what storm is this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge, +And manners, to intrude where I am graced; +And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. + +CHIRON +Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all; +And so in this, to bear me down with braves. +'Tis not the difference of a year or two +Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: +I am as able and as fit as thou +To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace; +And that my sword upon thee shall approve, +And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. + +AARON +[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep +the peace. + +DEMETRIUS +Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, +Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, +Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? +Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath +Till you know better how to handle it. + +CHIRON +Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, +Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. + +DEMETRIUS +Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? + +They draw + +AARON +[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords! +So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, +And maintain such a quarrel openly? +Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: +I would not for a million of gold +The cause were known to them it most concerns; +Nor would your noble mother for much more +Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome. +For shame, put up. + +DEMETRIUS +Not I, till I have sheathed +My rapier in his bosom and withal +Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat +That he hath breathed in my dishonour here. + +CHIRON +For that I am prepared and full resolved. +Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, +And with thy weapon nothing darest perform! + +AARON +Away, I say! +Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, +This petty brabble will undo us all. +Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous +It is to jet upon a prince's right? +What, is Lavinia then become so loose, +Or Bassianus so degenerate, +That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd +Without controlment, justice, or revenge? +Young lords, beware! and should the empress know +This discord's ground, the music would not please. + +CHIRON +I care not, I, knew she and all the world: +I love Lavinia more than all the world. + +DEMETRIUS +Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: +Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. + +AARON +Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome +How furious and impatient they be, +And cannot brook competitors in love? +I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths +By this device. + +CHIRON +Aaron, a thousand deaths +Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. + +AARON +To achieve her! how? + +DEMETRIUS +Why makest thou it so strange? +She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; +She is a woman, therefore may be won; +She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. +What, man! more water glideth by the mill +Than wots the miller of; and easy it is +Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: +Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother. +Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. + +AARON +[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. + +DEMETRIUS +Then why should he despair that knows to court it +With words, fair looks and liberality? +What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, +And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? + +AARON +Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so +Would serve your turns. + +CHIRON +Ay, so the turn were served. + +DEMETRIUS +Aaron, thou hast hit it. + +AARON +Would you had hit it too! +Then should not we be tired with this ado. +Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools +To square for this? would it offend you, then +That both should speed? + +CHIRON +Faith, not me. + +DEMETRIUS +Nor me, so I were one. + +AARON +For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: +'Tis policy and stratagem must do +That you affect; and so must you resolve, +That what you cannot as you would achieve, +You must perforce accomplish as you may. +Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste +Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. +A speedier course than lingering languishment +Must we pursue, and I have found the path. +My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; +There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: +The forest walks are wide and spacious; +And many unfrequented plots there are +Fitted by kind for rape and villany: +Single you thither then this dainty doe, +And strike her home by force, if not by words: +This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. +Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit +To villany and vengeance consecrate, +Will we acquaint with all that we intend; +And she shall file our engines with advice, +That will not suffer you to square yourselves, +But to your wishes' height advance you both. +The emperor's court is like the house of Fame, +The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: +The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; +There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take +your turns; +There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye, +And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + +CHIRON +Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice, + +DEMETRIUS +Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream +To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits. +Per Styga, per manes vehor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard. + +Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, & c., MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS +TITUS ANDRONICUS +The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, +The fields are fragrant and the woods are green: +Uncouple here and let us make a bay +And wake the emperor and his lovely bride +And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal, +That all the court may echo with the noise. +Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, +To attend the emperor's person carefully: +I have been troubled in my sleep this night, +But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. + +A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and Attendants + +Many good morrows to your majesty; +Madam, to you as many and as good: +I promised your grace a hunter's peal. + +SATURNINUS +And you have rung it lustily, my lord; +Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. + +BASSIANUS +Lavinia, how say you? + +LAVINIA +I say, no; +I have been broad awake two hours and more. + +SATURNINUS +Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have, +And to our sport. + +To TAMORA + +Madam, now shall ye see +Our Roman hunting. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +I have dogs, my lord, +Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, +And climb the highest promontory top. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +And I have horse will follow where the game +Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, +But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A lonely part of the forest. + +Enter AARON, with a bag of gold +AARON +He that had wit would think that I had none, +To bury so much gold under a tree, +And never after to inherit it. +Let him that thinks of me so abjectly +Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, +Which, cunningly effected, will beget +A very excellent piece of villany: +And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest + +Hides the gold + +That have their alms out of the empress' chest. + +Enter TAMORA + +TAMORA +My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, +When every thing doth make a gleeful boast? +The birds chant melody on every bush, +The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun, +The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind +And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: +Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, +And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, +Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, +As if a double hunt were heard at once, +Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise; +And, after conflict such as was supposed +The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd, +When with a happy storm they were surprised +And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave, +We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, +Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber; +Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds +Be unto us as is a nurse's song +Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. + +AARON +Madam, though Venus govern your desires, +Saturn is dominator over mine: +What signifies my deadly-standing eye, +My silence and my cloudy melancholy, +My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls +Even as an adder when she doth unroll +To do some fatal execution? +No, madam, these are no venereal signs: +Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, +Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. +Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul, +Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, +This is the day of doom for Bassianus: +His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day, +Thy sons make pillage of her chastity +And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood. +Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee, +And give the king this fatal plotted scroll. +Now question me no more; we are espied; +Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, +Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. + +TAMORA +Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + +AARON +No more, great empress; Bassianus comes: +Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons +To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. + +Exit + +Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA + +BASSIANUS +Who have we here? Rome's royal empress, +Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop? +Or is it Dian, habited like her, +Who hath abandoned her holy groves +To see the general hunting in this forest? + +TAMORA +Saucy controller of our private steps! +Had I the power that some say Dian had, +Thy temples should be planted presently +With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds +Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, +Unmannerly intruder as thou art! + +LAVINIA +Under your patience, gentle empress, +'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning; +And to be doubted that your Moor and you +Are singled forth to try experiments: +Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day! +'Tis pity they should take him for a stag. + +BASSIANUS +Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian +Doth make your honour of his body's hue, +Spotted, detested, and abominable. +Why are you sequester'd from all your train, +Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed. +And wander'd hither to an obscure plot, +Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, +If foul desire had not conducted you? + +LAVINIA +And, being intercepted in your sport, +Great reason that my noble lord be rated +For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence, +And let her joy her raven-colour'd love; +This valley fits the purpose passing well. + +BASSIANUS +The king my brother shall have note of this. + +LAVINIA +Ay, for these slips have made him noted long: +Good king, to be so mightily abused! + +TAMORA +Why have I patience to endure all this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +DEMETRIUS +How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! +Why doth your highness look so pale and wan? + +TAMORA +Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? +These two have 'ticed me hither to this place: +A barren detested vale, you see it is; +The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, +O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe: +Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, +Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven: +And when they show'd me this abhorred pit, +They told me, here, at dead time of the night, +A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, +Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, +Would make such fearful and confused cries +As any mortal body hearing it +Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. +No sooner had they told this hellish tale, +But straight they told me they would bind me here +Unto the body of a dismal yew, +And leave me to this miserable death: +And then they call'd me foul adulteress, +Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms +That ever ear did hear to such effect: +And, had you not by wondrous fortune come, +This vengeance on me had they executed. +Revenge it, as you love your mother's life, +Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children. + +DEMETRIUS +This is a witness that I am thy son. + +Stabs BASSIANUS + +CHIRON +And this for me, struck home to show my strength. + +Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies + +LAVINIA +Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, +For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + +TAMORA +Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys +Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her; +First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw: +This minion stood upon her chastity, +Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, +And with that painted hope braves your mightiness: +And shall she carry this unto her grave? + +CHIRON +An if she do, I would I were an eunuch. +Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, +And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. + +TAMORA +But when ye have the honey ye desire, +Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + +CHIRON +I warrant you, madam, we wil l make that sure. +Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy +That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,-- + +TAMORA +I will not hear her speak; away with her! + +LAVINIA +Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + +DEMETRIUS +Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory +To see her tears; but be your heart to them +As unrelenting flint to drops of rain. + +LAVINIA +When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? +O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee; +The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble; +Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. +Yet every mother breeds not sons alike: + +To CHIRON + +Do thou entreat her show a woman pity. + +CHIRON +What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + +LAVINIA +'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark: +Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!-- +The lion moved with pity did endure +To have his princely paws pared all away: +Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, +The whilst their own birds famish in their nests: +O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, +Nothing so kind, but something pitiful! + +TAMORA +I know not what it means; away with her! + +LAVINIA +O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake, +That gave thee life, when well he might have +slain thee, +Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears. + +TAMORA +Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me, +Even for his sake am I pitiless. +Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, +To save your brother from the sacrifice; +But fierce Andronicus would not relent; +Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will, +The worse to her, the better loved of me. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, +And with thine own hands kill me in this place! +For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long; +Poor I was slain when Bassianus died. + +TAMORA +What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go. + +LAVINIA +'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more +That womanhood denies my tongue to tell: +O, keep me from their worse than killing lust, +And tumble me into some loathsome pit, +Where never man's eye may behold my body: +Do this, and be a charitable murderer. + +TAMORA +So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: +No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. + +DEMETRIUS +Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long. + +LAVINIA +No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature! +The blot and enemy to our general name! +Confusion fall-- + +CHIRON +Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband: +This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. + +DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging off LAVINIA + +TAMORA +Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure. +Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed, +Till all the Andronici be made away. +Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, +And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r. + +Exit + +Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS + +AARON +Come on, my lords, the better foot before: +Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit +Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + +QUINTUS +My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + +MARTIUS +And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame, +Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. + +Falls into the pit + +QUINTUS +What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this, +Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers, +Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood +As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers? +A very fatal place it seems to me. +Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall? + +MARTIUS +O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt +That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + +AARON +[Aside] Now will I fetch the king to find them here, +That he thereby may give a likely guess +How these were they that made away his brother. + +Exit + +MARTIUS +Why dost not comfort me, and help me out +From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole? + +QUINTUS +I am surprised with an uncouth fear; +A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints: +My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. + +MARTIUS +To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, +Aaron and thou look down into this den, +And see a fearful sight of blood and death. + +QUINTUS +Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart +Will not permit mine eyes once to behold +The thing whereat it trembles by surmise; +O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now +Was I a child to fear I know not what. + +MARTIUS +Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here, +All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb, +In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + +QUINTUS +If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + +MARTIUS +Upon his bloody finger he doth wear +A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, +Which, like a taper in some monument, +Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, +And shows the ragged entrails of the pit: +So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus +When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. +O brother, help me with thy fainting hand-- +If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath-- +Out of this fell devouring receptacle, +As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth. + +QUINTUS +Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out; +Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, +I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb +Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave. +I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink. + +MARTIUS +Nor I no strength to climb without thy help. + +QUINTUS +Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, +Till thou art here aloft, or I below: +Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee. + +Falls in + +Enter SATURNINUS with AARON + +SATURNINUS +Along with me: I'll see what hole is here, +And what he is that now is leap'd into it. +Say who art thou that lately didst descend +Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + +MARTIUS +The unhappy son of old Andronicus: +Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, +To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + +SATURNINUS +My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: +He and his lady both are at the lodge +Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; +'Tis not an hour since I left him there. + +MARTIUS +We know not where you left him all alive; +But, out, alas! here have we found him dead. + +Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and Lucius + +TAMORA +Where is my lord the king? + +SATURNINUS +Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. + +TAMORA +Where is thy brother Bassianus? + +SATURNINUS +Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound: +Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + +TAMORA +Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, +The complot of this timeless tragedy; +And wonder greatly that man's face can fold +In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. + +She giveth SATURNINUS a letter + +SATURNINUS +[Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely-- +Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean-- +Do thou so much as dig the grave for him: +Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward +Among the nettles at the elder-tree +Which overshades the mouth of that same pit +Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. +Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.' +O Tamora! was ever heard the like? +This is the pit, and this the elder-tree. +Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out +That should have murdered Bassianus here. + +AARON +My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. + +SATURNINUS +[To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of +bloody kind, +Have here bereft my brother of his life. +Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison: +There let them bide until we have devised +Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + +TAMORA +What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! +How easily murder is discovered! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +High emperor, upon my feeble knee +I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, +That this fell fault of my accursed sons, +Accursed if the fault be proved in them,-- + +SATURNINUS +If it be proved! you see it is apparent. +Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + +TAMORA +Andronicus himself did take it up. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail; +For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow +They shall be ready at your highness' will +To answer their suspicion with their lives. + +SATURNINUS +Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me. +Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers: +Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain; +For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, +That end upon them should be executed. + +TAMORA +Andronicus, I will entreat the king; +Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the forest. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out +DEMETRIUS +So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, +Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee. + +CHIRON +Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, +An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. + +DEMETRIUS +See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl. + +CHIRON +Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands. + +DEMETRIUS +She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; +And so let's leave her to her silent walks. + +CHIRON +An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself. + +DEMETRIUS +If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. + +Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +Enter MARCUS + +MARCUS +Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast! +Cousin, a word; where is your husband? +If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! +If I do wake, some planet strike me down, +That I may slumber in eternal sleep! +Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands +Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare +Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, +Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, +And might not gain so great a happiness +As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me? +Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, +Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, +Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, +Coming and going with thy honey breath. +But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee, +And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. +Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame! +And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood, +As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, +Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face +Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. +Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? +O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast, +That I might rail at him, to ease my mind! +Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, +Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. +Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, +And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind: +But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee; +A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, +And he hath cut those pretty fingers off, +That could have better sew'd than Philomel. +O, had the monster seen those lily hands +Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute, +And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, +He would not then have touch'd them for his life! +Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony +Which that sweet tongue hath made, +He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep +As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. +Come, let us go, and make thy father blind; +For such a sight will blind a father's eye: +One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; +What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? +Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee +O, could our mourning ease thy misery! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of execution; TITUS going before, pleading +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay! +For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent +In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept; +For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed; +For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd; +And for these bitter tears, which now you see +Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks; +Be pitiful to my condemned sons, +Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought. +For two and twenty sons I never wept, +Because they died in honour's lofty bed. + +Lieth down; the Judges, & c., pass by him, and Exeunt + +For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write +My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears: +Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; +My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. +O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain, +That shall distil from these two ancient urns, +Than youthful April shall with all his showers: +In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still; +In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow +And keep eternal spring-time on thy face, +So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. + +Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn + +O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men! +Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death; +And let me say, that never wept before, +My tears are now prevailing orators. + +LUCIUS +O noble father, you lament in vain: +The tribunes hear you not; no man is by; +And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead. +Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,-- + +LUCIUS +My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear, +They would not mark me, or if they did mark, +They would not pity me, yet plead I must; +Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; +Who, though they cannot answer my distress, +Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, +For that they will not intercept my tale: +When I do weep, they humbly at my feet +Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; +And, were they but attired in grave weeds, +Rome could afford no tribune like to these. +A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones; +A stone is silent, and offendeth not, +And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. + +Rises + +But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? + +LUCIUS +To rescue my two brothers from their death: +For which attempt the judges have pronounced +My everlasting doom of banishment. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O happy man! they have befriended thee. +Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive +That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? +Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey +But me and mine: how happy art thou, then, +From these devourers to be banished! +But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + +Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep; +Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break: +I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Will it consume me? let me see it, then. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +This was thy daughter. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, Marcus, so she is. + +LUCIUS +Ay me, this object kills me! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her. +Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand +Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? +What fool hath added water to the sea, +Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? +My grief was at the height before thou camest, +And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. +Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; +For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain; +And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life; +In bootless prayer have they been held up, +And they have served me to effectless use: +Now all the service I require of them +Is that the one will help to cut the other. +'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; +For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain. + +LUCIUS +Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, that delightful engine of her thoughts +That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence, +Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage, +Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung +Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear! + +LUCIUS +O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, thus I found her, straying in the park, +Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer +That hath received some unrecuring wound. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It was my deer; and he that wounded her +Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead: +For now I stand as one upon a rock +Environed with a wilderness of sea, +Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, +Expecting ever when some envious surge +Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. +This way to death my wretched sons are gone; +Here stands my other son, a banished man, +And here my brother, weeping at my woes. +But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn, +Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. +Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, +It would have madded me: what shall I do +Now I behold thy lively body so? +Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears: +Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: +Thy husband he is dead: and for his death +Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this. +Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! +When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears +Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew +Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; +Perchance because she knows them innocent. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not +Romeo and Juliet +Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +Two households, both alike in dignity, +In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; +Whole misadventured piteous overthrows +Do with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. + +SCENE I. Verona. A public place. + +Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers +SAMPSON +Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY +No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON +I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY +Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + +SAMPSON +I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY +But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON +A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY +To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: +therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + +SAMPSON +A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will +take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY +That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes +to the wall. + +SAMPSON +True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, +are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids +to the wall. + +GREGORY +The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + +SAMPSON +'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I +have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the +maids, and cut off their heads. + +GREGORY +The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON +Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; +take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY +They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON +Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and +'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY +'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes +two of the house of the Montagues. + +SAMPSON +My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + +GREGORY +How! turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON +Fear me not. + +GREGORY +No, marry; I fear thee! + +SAMPSON +Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + +GREGORY +I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as +they list. + +SAMPSON +Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; +which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + +Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say +ay? + +GREGORY +No. + +SAMPSON +No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I +bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY +Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAHAM +Quarrel sir! no, sir. + +SAMPSON +If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. + +ABRAHAM +No better. + +SAMPSON +Well, sir. + +GREGORY +Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON +Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAHAM +You lie. + +SAMPSON +Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. + +They fight + +Enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +Part, fools! +Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + +Beats down their swords + +Enter TYBALT + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: +Have at thee, coward! + +They fight + +Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs + +First Citizen +Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + +Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + +CAPULET +My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + +Enter PRINCE, with Attendants + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- +Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins, +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partisans, in hands as old, +Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time, all the rest depart away: +You Capulet; shall go along with me: +And, Montague, come you this afternoon, +To know our further pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO + +MONTAGUE +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: +I drew to part them: in the instant came +The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; +Where, underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from the city's side, +So early walking did I see your son: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood: +I, measuring his affections by my own, +That most are busied when they're most alone, +Pursued my humour not pursuing his, +And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the furthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from the light steals home my heavy son, +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out +And makes himself an artificial night: +Black and portentous must this humour prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends: +But he, his own affections' counsellor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true-- +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm, +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, +Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; +I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + +Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +BENVOLIO +Good-morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO +Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO +Ay me! sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO +In love? + +ROMEO +Out-- + +BENVOLIO +Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favour, where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! +O any thing, of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness! serious vanity! +Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, +sick health! +Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO +No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +BENVOLIO +At thy good heart's oppression. + +ROMEO +Why, such is love's transgression. +Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest +With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown +Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. +Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; +Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; +Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: +What is it else? a madness most discreet, +A choking gall and a preserving sweet. +Farewell, my coz. + +BENVOLIO +Soft! I will go along; +An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + +ROMEO +Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; +This is not Romeo, he's some other where. + +BENVOLIO +Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. + +ROMEO +What, shall I groan and tell thee? + +BENVOLIO +Groan! why, no. +But sadly tell me who. + +ROMEO +Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: +Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! +In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + +BENVOLIO +I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. + +ROMEO +A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. + +BENVOLIO +A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + +ROMEO +Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit +With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; +And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, +From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. +She will not stay the siege of loving terms, +Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, +Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: +O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, +That when she dies with beauty dies her store. + +BENVOLIO +Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + +ROMEO +She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, +For beauty starved with her severity +Cuts beauty off from all posterity. +She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, +To merit bliss by making me despair: +She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow +Do I live dead that live to tell it now. + +BENVOLIO +Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. + +ROMEO +O, teach me how I should forget to think. + +BENVOLIO +By giving liberty unto thine eyes; +Examine other beauties. + +ROMEO +'Tis the way +To call hers exquisite, in question more: +These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows +Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; +He that is strucken blind cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: +Show me a mistress that is passing fair, +What doth her beauty serve, but as a note +Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? +Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. + +BENVOLIO +I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant +CAPULET +But Montague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, +For men so old as we to keep the peace. + +PARIS +Of honourable reckoning are you both; +And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. +But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? + +CAPULET +But saying o'er what I have said before: +My child is yet a stranger in the world; +She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, +Let two more summers wither in their pride, +Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. + +PARIS +Younger than she are happy mothers made. + +CAPULET +And too soon marr'd are those so early made. +The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, +She is the hopeful lady of my earth: +But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, +My will to her consent is but a part; +An she agree, within her scope of choice +Lies my consent and fair according voice. +This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, +Whereto I have invited many a guest, +Such as I love; and you, among the store, +One more, most welcome, makes my number more. +At my poor house look to behold this night +Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: +Such comfort as do lusty young men feel +When well-apparell'd April on the heel +Of limping winter treads, even such delight +Among fresh female buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, +And like her most whose merit most shall be: +Which on more view, of many mine being one +May stand in number, though in reckoning none, +Come, go with me. + +To Servant, giving a paper + +Go, sirrah, trudge about +Through fair Verona; find those persons out +Whose names are written there, and to them say, +My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. + +Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS + +Servant +Find them out whose names are written here! It is +written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his +yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with +his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am +sent to find those persons whose names are here +writ, and can never find what names the writing +person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. + +Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, +One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; +Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; +One desperate grief cures with another's languish: +Take thou some new infection to thy eye, +And the rank poison of the old will die. + +ROMEO +Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. + +BENVOLIO +For what, I pray thee? + +ROMEO +For your broken shin. + +BENVOLIO +Why, Romeo, art thou mad? + +ROMEO +Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; +Shut up in prison, kept without my food, +Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. + +Servant +God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? + +ROMEO +Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. + +Servant +Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I +pray, can you read any thing you see? + +ROMEO +Ay, if I know the letters and the language. + +Servant +Ye say honestly: rest you merry! + +ROMEO +Stay, fellow; I can read. + +Reads + +'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; +County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady +widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely +nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine +uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece +Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin +Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair +assembly: whither should they come? + +Servant +Up. + +ROMEO +Whither? + +Servant +To supper; to our house. + +ROMEO +Whose house? + +Servant +My master's. + +ROMEO +Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. + +Servant +Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the +great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house +of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. +Rest you merry! + +Exit + +BENVOLIO +At this same ancient feast of Capulet's +Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, +With all the admired beauties of Verona: +Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. + +ROMEO +When the devout religion of mine eye +Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; +And these, who often drown'd could never die, +Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! +One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun +Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. + +BENVOLIO +Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, +Herself poised with herself in either eye: +But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd +Your lady's love against some other maid +That I will show you shining at this feast, +And she shall scant show well that now shows best. + +ROMEO +I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, +But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. + +Nurse +Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, +I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! +God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! + +Enter JULIET + +JULIET +How now! who calls? + +Nurse +Your mother. + +JULIET +Madam, I am here. +What is your will? + +LADY CAPULET +This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, +We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; +I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. +Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. + +Nurse +Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. + +LADY CAPULET +She's not fourteen. + +Nurse +I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- +And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- +She is not fourteen. How long is it now +To Lammas-tide? + +LADY CAPULET +A fortnight and odd days. + +Nurse +Even or odd, of all days in the year, +Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. +Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- +Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; +She was too good for me: but, as I said, +On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; +That shall she, marry; I remember it well. +'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; +And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- +Of all the days of the year, upon that day: +For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, +Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; +My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- +Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, +When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple +Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, +To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! +Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, +To bid me trudge: +And since that time it is eleven years; +For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, +She could have run and waddled all about; +For even the day before, she broke her brow: +And then my husband--God be with his soul! +A' was a merry man--took up the child: +'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, +The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' +To see, now, how a jest shall come about! +I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, +I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; +And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +LADY CAPULET +Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. + +Nurse +Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, +To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' +And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow +A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; +A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: +'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +JULIET +And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. + +Nurse +Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! +Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: +An I might live to see thee married once, +I have my wish. + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme +I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, +How stands your disposition to be married? + +JULIET +It is an honour that I dream not of. + +Nurse +An honour! were not I thine only nurse, +I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, +Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, +Are made already mothers: by my count, +I was your mother much upon these years +That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: +The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. + +Nurse +A man, young lady! lady, such a man +As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. + +LADY CAPULET +Verona's summer hath not such a flower. + +Nurse +Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. + +LADY CAPULET +What say you? can you love the gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our feast; +Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, +And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; +Examine every married lineament, +And see how one another lends content +And what obscured in this fair volume lies +Find written in the margent of his eyes. +This precious book of love, this unbound lover, +To beautify him, only lacks a cover: +The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride +For fair without the fair within to hide: +That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, +That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; +So shall you share all that he doth possess, +By having him, making yourself no less. + +Nurse +No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. + +LADY CAPULET +Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? + +JULIET +I'll look to like, if looking liking move: +But no more deep will I endart mine eye +Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you +called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in +the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must +hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. + +LADY CAPULET +We follow thee. + +Exit Servant + +Juliet, the county stays. + +Nurse +Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others +ROMEO +What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without a apology? + +BENVOLIO +The date is out of such prolixity: +We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, +Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, +Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; +Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke +After the prompter, for our entrance: +But let them measure us by what they will; +We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. + +ROMEO +Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; +Being but heavy, I will bear the light. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. + +ROMEO +Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes +With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead +So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. + +MERCUTIO +You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, +And soar with them above a common bound. + +ROMEO +I am too sore enpierced with his shaft +To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, +I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: +Under love's heavy burden do I sink. + +MERCUTIO +And, to sink in it, should you burden love; +Too great oppression for a tender thing. + +ROMEO +Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, +Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. + +MERCUTIO +If love be rough with you, be rough with love; +Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. +Give me a case to put my visage in: +A visor for a visor! what care I +What curious eye doth quote deformities? +Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. + +BENVOLIO +Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in, +But every man betake him to his legs. + +ROMEO +A torch for me: let wantons light of heart +Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, +For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase; +I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. +The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. + +MERCUTIO +Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: +If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire +Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st +Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! + +ROMEO +Nay, that's not so. + +MERCUTIO +I mean, sir, in delay +We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. +Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits +Five times in that ere once in our five wits. + +ROMEO +And we mean well in going to this mask; +But 'tis no wit to go. + +MERCUTIO +Why, may one ask? + +ROMEO +I dream'd a dream to-night. + +MERCUTIO +And so did I. + +ROMEO +Well, what was yours? + +MERCUTIO +That dreamers often lie. + +ROMEO +In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. + +MERCUTIO +O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. +She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes +In shape no bigger than an agate-stone +On the fore-finger of an alderman, +Drawn with a team of little atomies +Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; +Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, +The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, +The traces of the smallest spider's web, +The collars of the moonshine's watery beams, +Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, +Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, +Not so big as a round little worm +Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; +Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut +Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, +Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. +And in this state she gallops night by night +Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; +O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight, +O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, +O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, +Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, +Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: +Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, +And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; +And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail +Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, +Then dreams, he of another benefice: +Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, +And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, +Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, +Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon +Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, +And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two +And sleeps again. This is that very Mab +That plats the manes of horses in the night, +And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, +Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: +This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, +That presses them and learns them first to bear, +Making them women of good carriage: +This is she-- + +ROMEO +Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! +Thou talk'st of nothing. + +MERCUTIO +True, I talk of dreams, +Which are the children of an idle brain, +Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, +Which is as thin of substance as the air +And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes +Even now the frozen bosom of the north, +And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, +Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. + +BENVOLIO +This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; +Supper is done, and we shall come too late. + +ROMEO +I fear, too early: for my mind misgives +Some consequence yet hanging in the stars +Shall bitterly begin his fearful date +With this night's revels and expire the term +Of a despised life closed in my breast +By some vile forfeit of untimely death. +But He, that hath the steerage of my course, +Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. + +BENVOLIO +Strike, drum. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house. + +Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins +First Servant +Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He +shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! + +Second Servant +When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's +hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. + +First Servant +Away with the joint-stools, remove the +court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save +me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let +the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. +Antony, and Potpan! + +Second Servant +Ay, boy, ready. + +First Servant +You are looked for and called for, asked for and +sought for, in the great chamber. + +Second Servant +We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be +brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. + +Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers + +CAPULET +Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes +Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. +Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all +Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, +She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? +Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day +That I have worn a visor and could tell +A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, +Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: +You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. +A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. + +Music plays, and they dance + +More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, +And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. +Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. +Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; +For you and I are past our dancing days: +How long is't now since last yourself and I +Were in a mask? + +Second Capulet +By'r lady, thirty years. + +CAPULET +What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: +'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, +Come pentecost as quickly as it will, +Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. + +Second Capulet +'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir; +His son is thirty. + +CAPULET +Will you tell me that? +His son was but a ward two years ago. + +ROMEO +[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth +enrich the hand +Of yonder knight? + +Servant +I know not, sir. + +ROMEO +O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! +It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night +Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; +Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! +So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, +As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. +The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, +And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! +For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. + +TYBALT +This, by his voice, should be a Montague. +Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave +Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, +To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? +Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, +To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin. + +CAPULET +Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? + +TYBALT +Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, +A villain that is hither come in spite, +To scorn at our solemnity this night. + +CAPULET +Young Romeo is it? + +TYBALT +'Tis he, that villain Romeo. + +CAPULET +Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; +He bears him like a portly gentleman; +And, to say truth, Verona brags of him +To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: +I would not for the wealth of all the town +Here in my house do him disparagement: +Therefore be patient, take no note of him: +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, +And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. + +TYBALT +It fits, when such a villain is a guest: +I'll not endure him. + +CAPULET +He shall be endured: +What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; +Am I the master here, or you? go to. +You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! +You'll make a mutiny among my guests! +You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! + +TYBALT +Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. + +CAPULET +Go to, go to; +You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed? +This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: +You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. +Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: +Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! +I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! + +TYBALT +Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. +I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall +Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. + +Exit + +ROMEO +[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand +This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: +My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand +To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. + +JULIET +Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, +Which mannerly devotion shows in this; +For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, +And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. + +ROMEO +Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? + +JULIET +Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. + +ROMEO +O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; +They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. + +JULIET +Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. + +ROMEO +Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. +Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. + +JULIET +Then have my lips the sin that they have took. + +ROMEO +Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! +Give me my sin again. + +JULIET +You kiss by the book. + +Nurse +Madam, your mother craves a word with you. + +ROMEO +What is her mother? + +Nurse +Marry, bachelor, +Her mother is the lady of the house, +And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous +I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal; +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her +Shall have the chinks. + +ROMEO +Is she a Capulet? +O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. + +BENVOLIO +Away, begone; the sport is at the best. + +ROMEO +Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. + +CAPULET +Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; +We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. +Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all +I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. +More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. +Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late: +I'll to my rest. + +Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse + +JULIET +Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? + +Nurse +The son and heir of old Tiberio. + +JULIET +What's he that now is going out of door? + +Nurse +Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. + +JULIET +What's he that follows there, that would not dance? + +Nurse +I know not. + +JULIET +Go ask his name: if he be married. +My grave is like to be my wedding bed. + +Nurse +His name is Romeo, and a Montague; +The only son of your great enemy. + +JULIET +My only love sprung from my only hate! +Too early seen unknown, and known too late! +Prodigious birth of love it is to me, +That I must love a loathed enemy. + +Nurse +What's this? what's this? + +JULIET +A rhyme I learn'd even now +Of one I danced withal. + +One calls within 'Juliet.' + +Nurse +Anon, anon! +Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, +And young affection gapes to be his heir; +That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, +With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. +Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, +Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, +But to his foe supposed he must complain, +And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: +Being held a foe, he may not have access +To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; +And she as much in love, her means much less +To meet her new-beloved any where: +But passion lends them power, time means, to meet +Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. + +Exit + +SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +Can I go forward when my heart is here? +Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. + +He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO + +BENVOLIO +Romeo! my cousin Romeo! + +MERCUTIO +He is wise; +And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. + +BENVOLIO +He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: +Call, good Mercutio. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I'll conjure too. +Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! +Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: +Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; +Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' +Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, +One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, +Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, +When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; +The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. +I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, +By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, +By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh +And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, +That in thy likeness thou appear to us! + +BENVOLIO +And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. + +MERCUTIO +This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him +To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle +Of some strange nature, letting it there stand +Till she had laid it and conjured it down; +That were some spite: my invocation +Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name +I conjure only but to raise up him. + +BENVOLIO +Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, +To be consorted with the humorous night: +Blind is his love and best befits the dark. + +MERCUTIO +If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. +Now will he sit under a medlar tree, +And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit +As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. +Romeo, that she were, O, that she were +An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! +Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; +This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: +Come, shall we go? + +BENVOLIO +Go, then; for 'tis in vain +To seek him here that means not to be found. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +He jests at scars that never felt a wound. + +JULIET appears above at a window + +But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. +Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, +Who is already sick and pale with grief, +That thou her maid art far more fair than she: +Be not her maid, since she is envious; +Her vestal livery is but sick and green +And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. +It is my lady, O, it is my love! +O, that she knew she were! +She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? +Her eye discourses; I will answer it. +I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: +Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, +Having some business, do entreat her eyes +To twinkle in their spheres till they return. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head? +The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, +As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven +Would through the airy region stream so bright +That birds would sing and think it were not night. +See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! +O, that I were a glove upon that hand, +That I might touch that cheek! + +JULIET +Ay me! + +ROMEO +She speaks: +O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art +As glorious to this night, being o'er my head +As is a winged messenger of heaven +Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes +Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him +When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds +And sails upon the bosom of the air. + +JULIET +O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? +Deny thy father and refuse thy name; +Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, +And I'll no longer be a Capulet. + +ROMEO +[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? + +JULIET +'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; +Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. +What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, +Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part +Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! +What's in a name? that which we call a rose +By any other name would smell as sweet; +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, +Retain that dear perfection which he owes +Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, +And for that name which is no part of thee +Take all myself. + +ROMEO +I take thee at thy word: +Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; +Henceforth I never will be Romeo. + +JULIET +What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night +So stumblest on my counsel? + +ROMEO +By a name +I know not how to tell thee who I am: +My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, +Because it is an enemy to thee; +Had I it written, I would tear the word. + +JULIET +My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words +Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: +Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? + +ROMEO +Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. + +JULIET +How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? +The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here. + +ROMEO +With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; +For stony limits cannot hold love out, +And what love can do that dares love attempt; +Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. + +JULIET +If they do see thee, they will murder thee. + +ROMEO +Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye +Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, +And I am proof against their enmity. + +JULIET +I would not for the world they saw thee here. + +ROMEO +I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; +And but thou love me, let them find me here: +My life were better ended by their hate, +Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. + +JULIET +By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + +ROMEO +By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; +He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. +I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far +As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, +I would adventure for such merchandise. + +JULIET +Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, +Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek +For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night +Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny +What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! +Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' +And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, +Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries +Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, +If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: +Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, +I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, +So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. +In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, +And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: +But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true +Than those that have more cunning to be strange. +I should have been more strange, I must confess, +But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, +My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yielding to light love, +Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +ROMEO +Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear +That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- + +JULIET +O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, +That monthly changes in her circled orb, +Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. + +ROMEO +What shall I swear by? + +JULIET +Do not swear at all; +Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, +Which is the god of my idolatry, +And I'll believe thee. + +ROMEO +If my heart's dear love-- + +JULIET +Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, +I have no joy of this contract to-night: +It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; +Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be +Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! +This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, +May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. +Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest +Come to thy heart as that within my breast! + +ROMEO +O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? + +JULIET +What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? + +ROMEO +The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. + +JULIET +I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: +And yet I would it were to give again. + +ROMEO +Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? + +JULIET +But to be frank, and give it thee again. +And yet I wish but for the thing I have: +My bounty is as boundless as the sea, +My love as deep; the more I give to thee, +The more I have, for both are infinite. + +Nurse calls within + +I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! +Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. +Stay but a little, I will come again. + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. +Being in night, all this is but a dream, +Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. +If that thy bent of love be honourable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, +By one that I'll procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; +And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay +And follow thee my lord throughout the world. + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, +I do beseech thee-- + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +By and by, I come:-- +To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: +To-morrow will I send. + +ROMEO +So thrive my soul-- + +JULIET +A thousand times good night! + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. +Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from +their books, +But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. + +Retiring + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, +To lure this tassel-gentle back again! +Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; +Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, +And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, +With repetition of my Romeo's name. + +ROMEO +It is my soul that calls upon my name: +How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, +Like softest music to attending ears! + +JULIET +Romeo! + +ROMEO +My dear? + +JULIET +At what o'clock to-morrow +Shall I send to thee? + +ROMEO +At the hour of nine. + +JULIET +I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. +I have forgot why I did call thee back. + +ROMEO +Let me stand here till thou remember it. + +JULIET +I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, +Remembering how I love thy company. + +ROMEO +And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this. + +JULIET +'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: +And yet no further than a wanton's bird; +Who lets it hop a little from her hand, +Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, +And with a silk thread plucks it back again, +So loving-jealous of his liberty. + +ROMEO +I would I were thy bird. + +JULIET +Sweet, so would I: +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. +Good night, good night! parting is such +sweet sorrow, +That I shall say good night till it be morrow. + +Exit above + +ROMEO +Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! +Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! +Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, +His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket +FRIAR LAURENCE +The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, +Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, +And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels +From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: +Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, +The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, +I must up-fill this osier cage of ours +With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. +The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; +What is her burying grave that is her womb, +And from her womb children of divers kind +We sucking on her natural bosom find, +Many for many virtues excellent, +None but for some and yet all different. +O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies +In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: +For nought so vile that on the earth doth live +But to the earth some special good doth give, +Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use +Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: +Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; +And vice sometimes by action dignified. +Within the infant rind of this small flower +Poison hath residence and medicine power: +For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; +Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. +Two such opposed kings encamp them still +In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Good morrow, father. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Benedicite! +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young son, it argues a distemper'd head +So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: +Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, +And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; +But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain +Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: +Therefore thy earliness doth me assure +Thou art up-roused by some distemperature; +Or if not so, then here I hit it right, +Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. + +ROMEO +That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? + +ROMEO +With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; +I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? + +ROMEO +I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. +I have been feasting with mine enemy, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, +That's by me wounded: both our remedies +Within thy help and holy physic lies: +I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, +My intercession likewise steads my foe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; +Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. + +ROMEO +Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set +On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; +And all combined, save what thou must combine +By holy marriage: when and where and how +We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, +I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, +That thou consent to marry us to-day. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! +Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, +So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies +Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine +Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! +How much salt water thrown away in waste, +To season love, that of it doth not taste! +The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, +Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; +Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit +Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: +If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, +Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: +And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, +Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. + +ROMEO +Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. + +ROMEO +And bad'st me bury love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Not in a grave, +To lay one in, another out to have. + +ROMEO +I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now +Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; +The other did not so. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, she knew well +Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. +But come, young waverer, come, go with me, +In one respect I'll thy assistant be; +For this alliance may so happy prove, +To turn your households' rancour to pure love. + +ROMEO +O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO +MERCUTIO +Where the devil should this Romeo be? +Came he not home to-night? + +BENVOLIO +Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. + +MERCUTIO +Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. +Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, +Hath sent a letter to his father's house. + +MERCUTIO +A challenge, on my life. + +BENVOLIO +Romeo will answer it. + +MERCUTIO +Any man that can write may answer a letter. + +BENVOLIO +Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he +dares, being dared. + +MERCUTIO +Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a +white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a +love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the +blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to +encounter Tybalt? + +BENVOLIO +Why, what is Tybalt? + +MERCUTIO +More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is +the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as +you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and +proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and +the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk +button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the +very first house, of the first and second cause: +ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the +hai! + +BENVOLIO +The what? + +MERCUTIO +The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting +fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, +a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good +whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, +grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with +these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these +perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, +that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their +bones, their bones! + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. + +MERCUTIO +Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, +how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers +that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a +kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to +be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; +Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey +eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior +Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation +to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit +fairly last night. + +ROMEO +Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? + +MERCUTIO +The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? + +ROMEO +Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in +such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. + +MERCUTIO +That's as much as to say, such a case as yours +constrains a man to bow in the hams. + +ROMEO +Meaning, to court'sy. + +MERCUTIO +Thou hast most kindly hit it. + +ROMEO +A most courteous exposition. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. + +ROMEO +Pink for flower. + +MERCUTIO +Right. + +ROMEO +Why, then is my pump well flowered. + +MERCUTIO +Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast +worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it +is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. + +ROMEO +O single-soled jest, solely singular for the +singleness. + +MERCUTIO +Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. + +ROMEO +Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have +done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of +thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: +was I with you there for the goose? + +ROMEO +Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast +not there for the goose. + +MERCUTIO +I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. + +ROMEO +Nay, good goose, bite not. + +MERCUTIO +Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most +sharp sauce. + +ROMEO +And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? + +MERCUTIO +O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an +inch narrow to an ell broad! + +ROMEO +I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added +to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. + +MERCUTIO +Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? +now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art +thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: +for this drivelling love is like a great natural, +that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. + +BENVOLIO +Stop there, stop there. + +MERCUTIO +Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. + +BENVOLIO +Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. + +MERCUTIO +O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: +for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and +meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. + +ROMEO +Here's goodly gear! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +MERCUTIO +A sail, a sail! + +BENVOLIO +Two, two; a shirt and a smock. + +Nurse +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +My fan, Peter. + +MERCUTIO +Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the +fairer face. + +Nurse +God ye good morrow, gentlemen. + +MERCUTIO +God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. + +Nurse +Is it good den? + +MERCUTIO +'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the +dial is now upon the prick of noon. + +Nurse +Out upon you! what a man are you! + +ROMEO +One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to +mar. + +Nurse +By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' +quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I +may find the young Romeo? + +ROMEO +I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when +you have found him than he was when you sought him: +I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. + +Nurse +You say well. + +MERCUTIO +Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; +wisely, wisely. + +Nurse +if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with +you. + +BENVOLIO +She will indite him to some supper. + +MERCUTIO +A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! + +ROMEO +What hast thou found? + +MERCUTIO +No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, +that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. + +Sings + +An old hare hoar, +And an old hare hoar, +Is very good meat in lent +But a hare that is hoar +Is too much for a score, +When it hoars ere it be spent. +Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll +to dinner, thither. + +ROMEO +I will follow you. + +MERCUTIO +Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, + +Singing + +'lady, lady, lady.' + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +Nurse +Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy +merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? + +ROMEO +A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, +and will speak more in a minute than he will stand +to in a month. + +Nurse +An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him +down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such +Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. +Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am +none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by +too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? + +PETER +I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon +should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare +draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a +good quarrel, and the law on my side. + +Nurse +Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about +me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: +and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you +out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: +but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into +a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross +kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman +is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double +with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered +to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. + +ROMEO +Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I +protest unto thee-- + +Nurse +Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: +Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. + +ROMEO +What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. + +Nurse +I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as +I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. + +ROMEO +Bid her devise +Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; +And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell +Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. + +Nurse +No truly sir; not a penny. + +ROMEO +Go to; I say you shall. + +Nurse +This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. + +ROMEO +And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: +Within this hour my man shall be with thee +And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; +Which to the high top-gallant of my joy +Must be my convoy in the secret night. +Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: +Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. + +Nurse +Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. + +ROMEO +What say'st thou, my dear nurse? + +Nurse +Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, +Two may keep counsel, putting one away? + +ROMEO +I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. + +NURSE +Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, +Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there +is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain +lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief +see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her +sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer +man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks +as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not +rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? + +ROMEO +Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. + +Nurse +Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for +the--No; I know it begins with some other +letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of +it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good +to hear it. + +ROMEO +Commend me to thy lady. + +Nurse +Ay, a thousand times. + +Exit Romeo + +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; +In half an hour she promised to return. +Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. +O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, +Driving back shadows over louring hills: +Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. +Now is the sun upon the highmost hill +Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve +Is three long hours, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warm youthful blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball; +My words would bandy her to my sweet love, +And his to me: +But old folks, many feign as they were dead; +Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. +O God, she comes! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +O honey nurse, what news? +Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. + +Nurse +Peter, stay at the gate. + +Exit PETER + +JULIET +Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? +Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; +If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news +By playing it to me with so sour a face. + +Nurse +I am a-weary, give me leave awhile: +Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! + +JULIET +I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: +Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. + +Nurse +Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + +JULIET +How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath +To say to me that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay +Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; +Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: +Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? + +Nurse +Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not +how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his +face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels +all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, +though they be not to be talked on, yet they are +past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, +but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy +ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home? + +JULIET +No, no: but all this did I know before. +What says he of our marriage? what of that? + +Nurse +Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! +It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. +My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back! +Beshrew your heart for sending me about, +To catch my death with jaunting up and down! + +JULIET +I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. +Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? + +Nurse +Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a +courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I +warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother? + +JULIET +Where is my mother! why, she is within; +Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! +'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, +Where is your mother?' + +Nurse +O God's lady dear! +Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; +Is this the poultice for my aching bones? +Henceforward do your messages yourself. + +JULIET +Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? + +Nurse +Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? + +JULIET +I have. + +Nurse +Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell; +There stays a husband to make you a wife: +Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, +They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. +Hie you to church; I must another way, +To fetch a ladder, by the which your love +Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: +I am the drudge and toil in your delight, +But you shall bear the burden soon at night. +Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. + +JULIET +Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO +FRIAR LAURENCE +So smile the heavens upon this holy act, +That after hours with sorrow chide us not! + +ROMEO +Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, +It cannot countervail the exchange of joy +That one short minute gives me in her sight: +Do thou but close our hands with holy words, +Then love-devouring death do what he dare; +It is enough I may but call her mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +These violent delights have violent ends +And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, +Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his own deliciousness +And in the taste confounds the appetite: +Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; +Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. + +Enter JULIET + +Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot +Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: +A lover may bestride the gossamer +That idles in the wanton summer air, +And yet not fall; so light is vanity. + +JULIET +Good even to my ghostly confessor. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. + +JULIET +As much to him, else is his thanks too much. + +ROMEO +Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy +Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more +To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue +Unfold the imagined happiness that both +Receive in either by this dear encounter. + +JULIET +Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, +Brags of his substance, not of ornament: +They are but beggars that can count their worth; +But my true love is grown to such excess +I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, come with me, and we will make short work; +For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone +Till holy church incorporate two in one. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A public place. + +Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants +BENVOLIO +I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: +The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, +And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; +For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. + +MERCUTIO +Thou art like one of those fellows that when he +enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword +upon the table and says 'God send me no need of +thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws +it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. + +BENVOLIO +Am I like such a fellow? + +MERCUTIO +Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as +any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as +soon moody to be moved. + +BENVOLIO +And what to? + +MERCUTIO +Nay, an there were two such, we should have none +shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, +thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, +or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou +wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no +other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what +eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? +Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of +meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as +an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a +man for coughing in the street, because he hath +wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: +didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing +his new doublet before Easter? with another, for +tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou +wilt tutor me from quarrelling! + +BENVOLIO +An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man +should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. + +MERCUTIO +The fee-simple! O simple! + +BENVOLIO +By my head, here come the Capulets. + +MERCUTIO +By my heel, I care not. + +Enter TYBALT and others + +TYBALT +Follow me close, for I will speak to them. +Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. + +MERCUTIO +And but one word with one of us? couple it with +something; make it a word and a blow. + +TYBALT +You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you +will give me occasion. + +MERCUTIO +Could you not take some occasion without giving? + +TYBALT +Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- + +MERCUTIO +Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an +thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but +discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall +make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! + +BENVOLIO +We talk here in the public haunt of men: +Either withdraw unto some private place, +And reason coldly of your grievances, +Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. + +MERCUTIO +Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; +I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. + +Enter ROMEO + +TYBALT +Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man. + +MERCUTIO +But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: +Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; +Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' + +TYBALT +Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford +No better term than this,--thou art a villain. + +ROMEO +Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting: villain am I none; +Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not. + +TYBALT +Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries +That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw. + +ROMEO +I do protest, I never injured thee, +But love thee better than thou canst devise, +Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: +And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender +As dearly as my own,--be satisfied. + +MERCUTIO +O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! +Alla stoccata carries it away. + +Draws + +Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? + +TYBALT +What wouldst thou have with me? + +MERCUTIO +Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine +lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you +shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the +eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher +by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your +ears ere it be out. + +TYBALT +I am for you. + +Drawing + +ROMEO +Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. + +MERCUTIO +Come, sir, your passado. + +They fight + +ROMEO +Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. +Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! +Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath +Forbidden bandying in Verona streets: +Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! + +TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers + +MERCUTIO +I am hurt. +A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. +Is he gone, and hath nothing? + +BENVOLIO +What, art thou hurt? + +MERCUTIO +Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. +Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. + +Exit Page + +ROMEO +Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. + +MERCUTIO +No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for +me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I +am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' +both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a +cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a +rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of +arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I +was hurt under your arm. + +ROMEO +I thought all for the best. + +MERCUTIO +Help me into some house, Benvolio, +Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! +They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, +And soundly too: your houses! + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +ROMEO +This gentleman, the prince's near ally, +My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt +In my behalf; my reputation stain'd +With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour +Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, +Thy beauty hath made me effeminate +And in my temper soften'd valour's steel! + +Re-enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! +That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, +Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. + +ROMEO +This day's black fate on more days doth depend; +This but begins the woe, others must end. + +BENVOLIO +Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. + +ROMEO +Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! +Away to heaven, respective lenity, +And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! + +Re-enter TYBALT + +Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, +That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul +Is but a little way above our heads, +Staying for thine to keep him company: +Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. + +TYBALT +Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, +Shalt with him hence. + +ROMEO +This shall determine that. + +They fight; TYBALT falls + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, away, be gone! +The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. +Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, +If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! + +ROMEO +O, I am fortune's fool! + +BENVOLIO +Why dost thou stay? + +Exit ROMEO + +Enter Citizens, & c + +First Citizen +Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? +Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? + +BENVOLIO +There lies that Tybalt. + +First Citizen +Up, sir, go with me; +I charge thee in the princes name, obey. + +Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others + +PRINCE +Where are the vile beginners of this fray? + +BENVOLIO +O noble prince, I can discover all +The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: +There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. + +LADY CAPULET +Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! +O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt +O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, +For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. +O cousin, cousin! + +PRINCE +Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; +Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink +How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal +Your high displeasure: all this uttered +With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, +Could not take truce with the unruly spleen +Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts +With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, +And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats +Cold death aside, and with the other sends +It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, +Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, +'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than +his tongue, +His agile arm beats down their fatal points, +And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm +An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; +But by and by comes back to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, +And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I +Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. +And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. +This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. + +LADY CAPULET +He is a kinsman to the Montague; +Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: +Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; +Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. + +PRINCE +Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; +Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? + +MONTAGUE +Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; +His fault concludes but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt. + +PRINCE +And for that offence +Immediately we do exile him hence: +I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, +My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; +But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine +That you shall all repent the loss of mine: +I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; +Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: +Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, +Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. +Bear hence this body and attend our will: +Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, +Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner +As Phaethon would whip you to the west, +And bring in cloudy night immediately. +Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, +That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo +Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. +Lovers can see to do their amorous rites +By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, +It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, +Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, +And learn me how to lose a winning match, +Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: +Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, +With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, +Think true love acted simple modesty. +Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; +For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night +Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. +Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, +Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little stars, +And he will make the face of heaven so fine +That all the world will be in love with night +And pay no worship to the garish sun. +O, I have bought the mansion of a love, +But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold, +Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day +As is the night before some festival +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, +And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks +But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. + +Enter Nurse, with cords + +Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords +That Romeo bid thee fetch? + +Nurse +Ay, ay, the cords. + +Throws them down + +JULIET +Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? + +Nurse +Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! +We are undone, lady, we are undone! +Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! + +JULIET +Can heaven be so envious? + +Nurse +Romeo can, +Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo! +Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! + +JULIET +What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. +Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,' +And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more +Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: +I am not I, if there be such an I; +Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' +If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no: +Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. + +Nurse +I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-- +God save the mark!--here on his manly breast: +A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, +All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight. + +JULIET +O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! +To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! +Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here; +And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! + +Nurse +O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! +O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! +That ever I should live to see thee dead! + +JULIET +What storm is this that blows so contrary? +Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? +My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? +Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! +For who is living, if those two are gone? + +Nurse +Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; +Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. + +JULIET +O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? + +Nurse +It did, it did; alas the day, it did! + +JULIET +O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! +Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? +Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! +Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! +Despised substance of divinest show! +Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, +A damned saint, an honourable villain! +O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, +When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend +In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was ever book containing such vile matter +So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous palace! + +Nurse +There's no trust, +No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, +All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. +Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: +These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. +Shame come to Romeo! + +JULIET +Blister'd be thy tongue +For such a wish! he was not born to shame: +Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; +For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd +Sole monarch of the universal earth. +O, what a beast was I to chide at him! + +Nurse +Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? + +JULIET +Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? +Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, +When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? +But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? +That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: +Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; +Your tributary drops belong to woe, +Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. +My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; +And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: +All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? +Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, +That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; +But, O, it presses to my memory, +Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: +'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;' +That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' +Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death +Was woe enough, if it had ended there: +Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship +And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, +Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' +Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, +Which modern lamentations might have moved? +But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, +'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word, +Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, +All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!' +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. +Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? + +Nurse +Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse: +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. + +JULIET +Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, +When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. +Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, +Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: +He made you for a highway to my bed; +But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. +Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed; +And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! + +Nurse +Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo +To comfort you: I wot well where he is. +Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: +I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. + +JULIET +O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, +And bid him come to take his last farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: +Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, +And thou art wedded to calamity. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? +What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, +That I yet know not? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Too familiar +Is my dear son with such sour company: +I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. + +ROMEO +What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, +Not body's death, but body's banishment. + +ROMEO +Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' +For exile hath more terror in his look, +Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hence from Verona art thou banished: +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. + +ROMEO +There is no world without Verona walls, +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, +And world's exile is death: then banished, +Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, +Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, +And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! +Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, +Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, +And turn'd that black word death to banishment: +This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. + +ROMEO +'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, +Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog +And little mouse, every unworthy thing, +Live here in heaven and may look on her; +But Romeo may not: more validity, +More honourable state, more courtship lives +In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize +On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand +And steal immortal blessing from her lips, +Who even in pure and vestal modesty, +Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; +But Romeo may not; he is banished: +Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: +They are free men, but I am banished. +And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? +Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, +No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, +But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? +O friar, the damned use that word in hell; +Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, +Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, +A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, +To mangle me with that word 'banished'? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. + +ROMEO +O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: +Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished. + +ROMEO +Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! +Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, +Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, +It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, then I see that madmen have no ears. + +ROMEO +How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. + +ROMEO +Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: +Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, +An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me and like me banished, +Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, +And fall upon the ground, as I do now, +Taking the measure of an unmade grave. + +Knocking within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. + +ROMEO +Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, +Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. + +Knocking + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; +Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; + +Knocking + +Run to my study. By and by! God's will, +What simpleness is this! I come, I come! + +Knocking + +Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? + +Nurse +[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know +my errand; +I come from Lady Juliet. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Welcome, then. + +Enter Nurse + +Nurse +O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, +Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. + +Nurse +O, he is even in my mistress' case, +Just in her case! O woful sympathy! +Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, +Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. +Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: +For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; +Why should you fall into so deep an O? + +ROMEO +Nurse! + +Nurse +Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. + +ROMEO +Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? +Doth she not think me an old murderer, +Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy +With blood removed but little from her own? +Where is she? and how doth she? and what says +My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? + +Nurse +O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; +And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, +And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, +And then down falls again. + +ROMEO +As if that name, +Shot from the deadly level of a gun, +Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand +Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, +In what vile part of this anatomy +Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack +The hateful mansion. + +Drawing his sword + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold thy desperate hand: +Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: +Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote +The unreasonable fury of a beast: +Unseemly woman in a seeming man! +Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! +Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better temper'd. +Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? +And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, +By doing damned hate upon thyself? +Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? +Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet +In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. +Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; +Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, +And usest none in that true use indeed +Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: +Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, +Digressing from the valour of a man; +Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, +Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; +Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, +Misshapen in the conduct of them both, +Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, +Is set afire by thine own ignorance, +And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. +What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, +For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; +There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: +The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend +And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: +A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; +Happiness courts thee in her best array; +But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, +Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, +Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: +But look thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; +Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, +Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back +With twenty hundred thousand times more joy +Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. +Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: +Romeo is coming. + +Nurse +O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night +To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! +My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. + +ROMEO +Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. + +Nurse +Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: +Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. + +Exit + +ROMEO +How well my comfort is revived by this! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: +Either be gone before the watch be set, +Or by the break of day disguised from hence: +Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, +And he shall signify from time to time +Every good hap to you that chances here: +Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. + +ROMEO +But that a joy past joy calls out on me, +It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS +CAPULET +Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, +That we have had no time to move our daughter: +Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, +And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. +'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: +I promise you, but for your company, +I would have been a-bed an hour ago. + +PARIS +These times of woe afford no time to woo. +Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. + +LADY CAPULET +I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; +To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness. + +CAPULET +Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled +In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. +Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; +Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; +And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-- +But, soft! what day is this? + +PARIS +Monday, my lord, + +CAPULET +Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, +O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, +She shall be married to this noble earl. +Will you be ready? do you like this haste? +We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; +For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, +It may be thought we held him carelessly, +Being our kinsman, if we revel much: +Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + +PARIS +My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. + +CAPULET +Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then. +Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, +Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. +Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! +Afore me! it is so very very late, +That we may call it early by and by. +Good night. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window +JULIET +Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: +It was the nightingale, and not the lark, +That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; +Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: +Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. + +ROMEO +It was the lark, the herald of the morn, +No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks +Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: +Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day +Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. +I must be gone and live, or stay and die. + +JULIET +Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: +It is some meteor that the sun exhales, +To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, +And light thee on thy way to Mantua: +Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. + +ROMEO +Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; +I am content, so thou wilt have it so. +I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, +'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; +Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat +The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: +I have more care to stay than will to go: +Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. +How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. + +JULIET +It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! +It is the lark that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. +Some say the lark makes sweet division; +This doth not so, for she divideth us: +Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, +O, now I would they had changed voices too! +Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, +Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, +O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. + +ROMEO +More light and light; more dark and dark our woes! + +Enter Nurse, to the chamber + +Nurse +Madam! + +JULIET +Nurse? + +Nurse +Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: +The day is broke; be wary, look about. + +Exit + +JULIET +Then, window, let day in, and let life out. + +ROMEO +Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. + +He goeth down + +JULIET +Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! +I must hear from thee every day in the hour, +For in a minute there are many days: +O, by this count I shall be much in years +Ere I again behold my Romeo! + +ROMEO +Farewell! +I will omit no opportunity +That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + +JULIET +O think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + +ROMEO +I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve +For sweet discourses in our time to come. + +JULIET +O God, I have an ill-divining soul! +Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, +As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: +Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. + +ROMEO +And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: +Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! + +Exit + +JULIET +O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: +If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. +That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; +For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, +But send him back. + +LADY CAPULET +[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up? + +JULIET +Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? +Is she not down so late, or up so early? +What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +Why, how now, Juliet! + +JULIET +Madam, I am not well. + +LADY CAPULET +Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? +What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? +An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; +Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; +But much of grief shows still some want of wit. + +JULIET +Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. + +LADY CAPULET +So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend +Which you weep for. + +JULIET +Feeling so the loss, +Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, +As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. + +JULIET +What villain madam? + +LADY CAPULET +That same villain, Romeo. + +JULIET +[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- +God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; +And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. + +LADY CAPULET +That is, because the traitor murderer lives. + +JULIET +Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: +Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! + +LADY CAPULET +We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: +Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, +Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, +That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: +And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. + +JULIET +Indeed, I never shall be satisfied +With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- +Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To bear a poison, I would temper it; +That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, +Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors +To hear him named, and cannot come to him. +To wreak the love I bore my cousin +Upon his body that slaughter'd him! + +LADY CAPULET +Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. +But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. + +JULIET +And joy comes well in such a needy time: +What are they, I beseech your ladyship? + +LADY CAPULET +Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; +One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, +That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for. + +JULIET +Madam, in happy time, what day is that? + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, +The gallant, young and noble gentleman, +The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, +Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. + +JULIET +Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a joyful bride. +I wonder at this haste; that I must wed +Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. +I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, +I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, +Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! + +LADY CAPULET +Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, +And see how he will take it at your hands. + +Enter CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; +But for the sunset of my brother's son +It rains downright. +How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? +Evermore showering? In one little body +Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; +For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, +Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, +Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; +Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, +Without a sudden calm, will overset +Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! +Have you deliver'd to her our decree? + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. +I would the fool were married to her grave! + +CAPULET +Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. +How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? +Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, +Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought +So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? + +JULIET +Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: +Proud can I never be of what I hate; +But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. + +CAPULET +How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? +'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' +And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, +Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, +To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, +Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. +Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! +You tallow-face! + +LADY CAPULET +Fie, fie! what, are you mad? + +JULIET +Good father, I beseech you on my knees, +Hear me with patience but to speak a word. + +CAPULET +Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! +I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, +Or never after look me in the face: +Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; +My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest +That God had lent us but this only child; +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we have a curse in having her: +Out on her, hilding! + +Nurse +God in heaven bless her! +You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. + +CAPULET +And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, +Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. + +Nurse +I speak no treason. + +CAPULET +O, God ye god-den. + +Nurse +May not one speak? + +CAPULET +Peace, you mumbling fool! +Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; +For here we need it not. + +LADY CAPULET +You are too hot. + +CAPULET +God's bread! it makes me mad: +Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, +Alone, in company, still my care hath been +To have her match'd: and having now provided +A gentleman of noble parentage, +Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, +Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, +Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; +And then to have a wretched puling fool, +A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, +To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, +I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' +But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: +Graze where you will you shall not house with me: +Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. +Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: +An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; +And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in +the streets, +For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: +Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. + +Exit + +JULIET +Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, +That sees into the bottom of my grief? +O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! +Delay this marriage for a month, a week; +Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed +In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. + +LADY CAPULET +Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: +Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. + +Exit + +JULIET +O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? +My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; +How shall that faith return again to earth, +Unless that husband send it me from heaven +By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. +Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems +Upon so soft a subject as myself! +What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? +Some comfort, nurse. + +Nurse +Faith, here it is. +Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, +That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; +Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, +I think it best you married with the county. +O, he's a lovely gentleman! +Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, +Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye +As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, +I think you are happy in this second match, +For it excels your first: or if it did not, +Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were, +As living here and you no use of him. + +JULIET +Speakest thou from thy heart? + +Nurse +And from my soul too; +Or else beshrew them both. + +JULIET +Amen! + +Nurse +What? + +JULIET +Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. +Go in: and tell my lady I am gone, +Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, +To make confession and to be absolved. + +Nurse +Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. + +Exit + +JULIET +Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! +Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, +Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue +Which she hath praised him with above compare +So many thousand times? Go, counsellor; +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. +I'll to the friar, to know his remedy: +If all else fail, myself have power to die. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS +FRIAR LAURENCE +On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. + +PARIS +My father Capulet will have it so; +And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +You say you do not know the lady's mind: +Uneven is the course, I like it not. + +PARIS +Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, +And therefore have I little talk'd of love; +For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. +Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous +That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, +And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, +To stop the inundation of her tears; +Which, too much minded by herself alone, +May be put from her by society: +Now do you know the reason of this haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. +Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. + +Enter JULIET + +PARIS +Happily met, my lady and my wife! + +JULIET +That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. + +PARIS +That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. + +JULIET +What must be shall be. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's a certain text. + +PARIS +Come you to make confession to this father? + +JULIET +To answer that, I should confess to you. + +PARIS +Do not deny to him that you love me. + +JULIET +I will confess to you that I love him. + +PARIS +So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. + +JULIET +If I do so, it will be of more price, +Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. + +PARIS +Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. + +JULIET +The tears have got small victory by that; +For it was bad enough before their spite. + +PARIS +Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. + +JULIET +That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; +And what I spake, I spake it to my face. + +PARIS +Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. + +JULIET +It may be so, for it is not mine own. +Are you at leisure, holy father, now; +Or shall I come to you at evening mass? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. +My lord, we must entreat the time alone. + +PARIS +God shield I should disturb devotion! +Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye: +Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. + +Exit + +JULIET +O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, +Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; +It strains me past the compass of my wits: +I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this county. + +JULIET +Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, +Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: +If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife I'll help it presently. +God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; +And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, +Shall be the label to another deed, +Or my true heart with treacherous revolt +Turn to another, this shall slay them both: +Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, +Give me some present counsel, or, behold, +'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife +Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that +Which the commission of thy years and art +Could to no issue of true honour bring. +Be not so long to speak; I long to die, +If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, +Which craves as desperate an execution. +As that is desperate which we would prevent. +If, rather than to marry County Paris, +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, +Then is it likely thou wilt undertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That copest with death himself to scape from it: +And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. + +JULIET +O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, +From off the battlements of yonder tower; +Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk +Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; +Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, +O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, +With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; +Or bid me go into a new-made grave +And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; +Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; +And I will do it without fear or doubt, +To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent +To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: +To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; +Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: +Take thou this vial, being then in bed, +And this distilled liquor drink thou off; +When presently through all thy veins shall run +A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse +Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: +No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; +The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade +To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, +Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; +Each part, deprived of supple government, +Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: +And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death +Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, +And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. +Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes +To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: +Then, as the manner of our country is, +In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. +In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come: and he and I +Will watch thy waking, and that very night +Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame; +If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear, +Abate thy valour in the acting it. + +JULIET +Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous +In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed +To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. + +JULIET +Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford. +Farewell, dear father! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen +CAPULET +So many guests invite as here are writ. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. + +Second Servant +You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they +can lick their fingers. + +CAPULET +How canst thou try them so? + +Second Servant +Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his +own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his +fingers goes not with me. + +CAPULET +Go, be gone. + +Exit Second Servant + +We shall be much unfurnished for this time. +What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? + +Nurse +Ay, forsooth. + +CAPULET +Well, he may chance to do some good on her: +A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. + +Nurse +See where she comes from shrift with merry look. + +Enter JULIET + +CAPULET +How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? + +JULIET +Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition +To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd +By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, +And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! +Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. + +CAPULET +Send for the county; go tell him of this: +I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. + +JULIET +I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; +And gave him what becomed love I might, +Not step o'er the bounds of modesty. + +CAPULET +Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up: +This is as't should be. Let me see the county; +Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. +Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar, +Our whole city is much bound to him. + +JULIET +Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, +To help me sort such needful ornaments +As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? + +LADY CAPULET +No, not till Thursday; there is time enough. + +CAPULET +Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow. + +Exeunt JULIET and Nurse + +LADY CAPULET +We shall be short in our provision: +'Tis now near night. + +CAPULET +Tush, I will stir about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife: +Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; +I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone; +I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! +They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself +To County Paris, to prepare him up +Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, +Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter JULIET and Nurse +JULIET +Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, +I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, +For I have need of many orisons +To move the heavens to smile upon my state, +Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin. + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What, are you busy, ho? need you my help? + +JULIET +No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries +As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: +So please you, let me now be left alone, +And let the nurse this night sit up with you; +For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, +In this so sudden business. + +LADY CAPULET +Good night: +Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +JULIET +Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. +I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, +That almost freezes up the heat of life: +I'll call them back again to comfort me: +Nurse! What should she do here? +My dismal scene I needs must act alone. +Come, vial. +What if this mixture do not work at all? +Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? +No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. + +Laying down her dagger + +What if it be a poison, which the friar +Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, +Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, +For he hath still been tried a holy man. +How if, when I am laid into the tomb, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! +Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, +To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? +Or, if I live, is it not very like, +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place,-- +As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, +Where, for these many hundred years, the bones +Of all my buried ancestors are packed: +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, +Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, +At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- +Alack, alack, is it not like that I, +So early waking, what with loathsome smells, +And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, +That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- +O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Environed with all these hideous fears? +And madly play with my forefather's joints? +And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? +And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, +As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? +O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost +Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body +Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! +Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. + +She falls upon her bed, within the curtains + +SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. + +Nurse +They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd, +The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: +Look to the baked meats, good Angelica: +Spare not for the cost. + +Nurse +Go, you cot-quean, go, +Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow +For this night's watching. + +CAPULET +No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now +All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; +But I will watch you from such watching now. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +A jealous hood, a jealous hood! + +Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets + +Now, fellow, +What's there? + +First Servant +Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. + +CAPULET +Make haste, make haste. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, fetch drier logs: +Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. + +Second Servant +I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, +And never trouble Peter for the matter. + +Exit + +CAPULET +Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! +Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day: +The county will be here with music straight, +For so he said he would: I hear him near. + +Music within + +Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say! + +Re-enter Nurse + +Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; +I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, +Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already: +Make haste, I say. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter Nurse +Nurse +Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: +Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed! +Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride! +What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now; +Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, +The County Paris hath set up his rest, +That you shall rest but little. God forgive me, +Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! +I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam! +Ay, let the county take you in your bed; +He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be? + +Undraws the curtains + +What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! +I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady! +Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead! +O, well-a-day, that ever I was born! +Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady! + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What noise is here? + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +What is the matter? + +Nurse +Look, look! O heavy day! + +LADY CAPULET +O me, O me! My child, my only life, +Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! +Help, help! Call help. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. + +Nurse +She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day! + +LADY CAPULET +Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! + +CAPULET +Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold: +Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; +Life and these lips have long been separated: +Death lies on her like an untimely frost +Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +O woful time! + +CAPULET +Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, +Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, is the bride ready to go to church? + +CAPULET +Ready to go, but never to return. +O son! the night before thy wedding-day +Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowered by him. +Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; +My daughter he hath wedded: I will die, +And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's. + +PARIS +Have I thought long to see this morning's face, +And doth it give me such a sight as this? + +LADY CAPULET +Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! +Most miserable hour that e'er time saw +In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! +But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, +But one thing to rejoice and solace in, +And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! + +Nurse +O woe! O woful, woful, woful day! +Most lamentable day, most woful day, +That ever, ever, I did yet behold! +O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! +Never was seen so black a day as this: +O woful day, O woful day! + +PARIS +Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! +Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, +By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! +O love! O life! not life, but love in death! + +CAPULET +Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! +Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now +To murder, murder our solemnity? +O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! +Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; +And with my child my joys are buried. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not +In these confusions. Heaven and yourself +Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, +And all the better is it for the maid: +Your part in her you could not keep from death, +But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. +The most you sought was her promotion; +For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced: +And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced +Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? +O, in this love, you love your child so ill, +That you run mad, seeing that she is well: +She's not well married that lives married long; +But she's best married that dies married young. +Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary +On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, +In all her best array bear her to church: +For though fond nature bids us an lament, +Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. + +CAPULET +All things that we ordained festival, +Turn from their office to black funeral; +Our instruments to melancholy bells, +Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, +Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, +Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, +And all things change them to the contrary. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him; +And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare +To follow this fair corse unto her grave: +The heavens do lour upon you for some ill; +Move them no more by crossing their high will. + +Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE + +First Musician +Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. + +Nurse +Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up; +For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. + +Exit + +First Musician +Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. + +Enter PETER + +PETER +Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's +ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.' + +First Musician +Why 'Heart's ease?' + +PETER +O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My +heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump, +to comfort me. + +First Musician +Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. + +PETER +You will not, then? + +First Musician +No. + +PETER +I will then give it you soundly. + +First Musician +What will you give us? + +PETER +No money, on my faith, but the gleek; +I will give you the minstrel. + +First Musician +Then I will give you the serving-creature. + +PETER +Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on +your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, +I'll fa you; do you note me? + +First Musician +An you re us and fa us, you note us. + +Second Musician +Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. + +PETER +Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you +with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer +me like men: +'When griping grief the heart doth wound, +And doleful dumps the mind oppress, +Then music with her silver sound'-- +why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver +sound'? What say you, Simon Catling? + +Musician +Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. + +PETER +Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? + +Second Musician +I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver. + +PETER +Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost? + +Third Musician +Faith, I know not what to say. + +PETER +O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say +for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,' +because musicians have no gold for sounding: +'Then music with her silver sound +With speedy help doth lend redress.' + +Exit + +First Musician +What a pestilent knave is this same! + +Second Musician +Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the +mourners, and stay dinner. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Mantua. A street. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, +My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: +My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; +And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit +Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. +I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- +Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave +to think!-- +And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, +That I revived, and was an emperor. +Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, +When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! + +Enter BALTHASAR, booted + +News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! +Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? +How doth my lady? Is my father well? +How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; +For nothing can be ill, if she be well. + +BALTHASAR +Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: +Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, +And her immortal part with angels lives. +I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, +And presently took post to tell it you: +O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, +Since you did leave it for my office, sir. + +ROMEO +Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! +Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, +And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. + +BALTHASAR +I do beseech you, sir, have patience: +Your looks are pale and wild, and do import +Some misadventure. + +ROMEO +Tush, thou art deceived: +Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? + +BALTHASAR +No, my good lord. + +ROMEO +No matter: get thee gone, +And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. + +Exit BALTHASAR + +Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. +Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! +I do remember an apothecary,-- +And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted +In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, +Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, +Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: +And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, +An alligator stuff'd, and other skins +Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves +A beggarly account of empty boxes, +Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, +Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, +Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. +Noting this penury, to myself I said +'An if a man did need a poison now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' +O, this same thought did but forerun my need; +And this same needy man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house. +Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. +What, ho! apothecary! + +Enter Apothecary + +Apothecary +Who calls so loud? + +ROMEO +Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor: +Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have +A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear +As will disperse itself through all the veins +That the life-weary taker may fall dead +And that the trunk may be discharged of breath +As violently as hasty powder fired +Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. + +Apothecary +Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law +Is death to any he that utters them. + +ROMEO +Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, +And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, +Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, +Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; +The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; +The world affords no law to make thee rich; +Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. + +Apothecary +My poverty, but not my will, consents. + +ROMEO +I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. + +Apothecary +Put this in any liquid thing you will, +And drink it off; and, if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. + +ROMEO +There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, +Doing more murders in this loathsome world, +Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. +I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. +Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. +Come, cordial and not poison, go with me +To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR JOHN +FRIAR JOHN +Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE + +FRIAR LAURENCE +This same should be the voice of Friar John. +Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? +Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. + +FRIAR JOHN +Going to find a bare-foot brother out +One of our order, to associate me, +Here in this city visiting the sick, +And finding him, the searchers of the town, +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did reign, +Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; +So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo? + +FRIAR JOHN +I could not send it,--here it is again,-- +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearful were they of infection. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, +The letter was not nice but full of charge +Of dear import, and the neglecting it +May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; +Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight +Unto my cell. + +FRIAR JOHN +Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. + +Exit + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Now must I to the monument alone; +Within three hours will fair Juliet wake: +She will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents; +But I will write again to Mantua, +And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; +Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets. + +Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch +PARIS +Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: +Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. +Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, +Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; +So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, +Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves, +But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, +As signal that thou hear'st something approach. +Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. + +PAGE +[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. + +Retires + +PARIS +Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,-- +O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;-- +Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, +Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: +The obsequies that I for thee will keep +Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. + +The Page whistles + +The boy gives warning something doth approach. +What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, +To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? +What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. + +Retires + +Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c + +ROMEO +Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. +Hold, take this letter; early in the morning +See thou deliver it to my lord and father. +Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, +Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death, +Is partly to behold my lady's face; +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger +A precious ring, a ring that I must use +In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: +But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry +In what I further shall intend to do, +By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint +And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: +The time and my intents are savage-wild, +More fierce and more inexorable far +Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. + +BALTHASAR +I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +ROMEO +So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: +Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. + +BALTHASAR +[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: +His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. + +Retires + +ROMEO +Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, +Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, +Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, +And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! + +Opens the tomb + +PARIS +This is that banish'd haughty Montague, +That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, +It is supposed, the fair creature died; +And here is come to do some villanous shame +To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. + +Comes forward + +Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! +Can vengeance be pursued further than death? +Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: +Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. + +ROMEO +I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; +Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, +Put not another sin upon my head, +By urging me to fury: O, be gone! +By heaven, I love thee better than myself; +For I come hither arm'd against myself: +Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, +A madman's mercy bade thee run away. + +PARIS +I do defy thy conjurations, +And apprehend thee for a felon here. + +ROMEO +Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! + +They fight + +PAGE +O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. + +Exit + +PARIS +O, I am slain! + +Falls + +If thou be merciful, +Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. + +Dies + +ROMEO +In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. +Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! +What said my man, when my betossed soul +Did not attend him as we rode? I think +He told me Paris should have married Juliet: +Said he not so? or did I dream it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, +To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, +One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! +I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; +A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, +For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes +This vault a feasting presence full of light. +Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. + +Laying PARIS in the tomb + +How oft when men are at the point of death +Have they been merry! which their keepers call +A lightning before death: O, how may I +Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! +Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: +Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet +Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, +And death's pale flag is not advanced there. +Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? +O, what more favour can I do to thee, +Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain +To sunder his that was thine enemy? +Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, +Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe +That unsubstantial death is amorous, +And that the lean abhorred monster keeps +Thee here in dark to be his paramour? +For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; +And never from this palace of dim night +Depart again: here, here will I remain +With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here +Will I set up my everlasting rest, +And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars +From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! +Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you +The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss +A dateless bargain to engrossing death! +Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! +Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on +The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! +Here's to my love! + +Drinks + +O true apothecary! +Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. + +Dies + +Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night +Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? + +BALTHASAR +Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, +What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light +To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, +It burneth in the Capel's monument. + +BALTHASAR +It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, +One that you love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who is it? + +BALTHASAR +Romeo. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +How long hath he been there? + +BALTHASAR +Full half an hour. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go with me to the vault. + +BALTHASAR +I dare not, sir +My master knows not but I am gone hence; +And fearfully did menace me with death, +If I did stay to look on his intents. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: +O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. + +BALTHASAR +As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, +I dreamt my master and another fought, +And that my master slew him. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo! + +Advances + +Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains +The stony entrance of this sepulchre? +What mean these masterless and gory swords +To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? + +Enters the tomb + +Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? +And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour +Is guilty of this lamentable chance! +The lady stirs. + +JULIET wakes + +JULIET +O comfortable friar! where is my lord? +I do remember well where I should be, +And there I am. Where is my Romeo? + +Noise within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: +A greater power than we can contradict +Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. +Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; +And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee +Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: +Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; +Come, go, good Juliet, + +Noise again + +I dare no longer stay. + +JULIET +Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. + +Exit FRIAR LAURENCE + +What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? +Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: +O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop +To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; +Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, +To make die with a restorative. + +Kisses him + +Thy lips are warm. + +First Watchman +[Within] Lead, boy: which way? + +JULIET +Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! + +Snatching ROMEO's dagger + +This is thy sheath; + +Stabs herself + +there rust, and let me die. + +Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies + +Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS + +PAGE +This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. + +First Watchman +The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: +Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. +Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, +And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, +Who here hath lain these two days buried. +Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: +Raise up the Montagues: some others search: +We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; +But the true ground of all these piteous woes +We cannot without circumstance descry. + +Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR + +Second Watchman +Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. + +First Watchman +Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. + +Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE + +Third Watchman +Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: +We took this mattock and this spade from him, +As he was coming from this churchyard side. + +First Watchman +A great suspicion: stay the friar too. + +Enter the PRINCE and Attendants + +PRINCE +What misadventure is so early up, +That calls our person from our morning's rest? + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others + +CAPULET +What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? + +LADY CAPULET +The people in the street cry Romeo, +Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, +With open outcry toward our monument. + +PRINCE +What fear is this which startles in our ears? + +First Watchman +Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; +And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, +Warm and new kill'd. + +PRINCE +Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. + +First Watchman +Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; +With instruments upon them, fit to open +These dead men's tombs. + +CAPULET +O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! +This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house +Is empty on the back of Montague,-- +And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! + +LADY CAPULET +O me! this sight of death is as a bell, +That warns my old age to a sepulchre. + +Enter MONTAGUE and others + +PRINCE +Come, Montague; for thou art early up, +To see thy son and heir more early down. + +MONTAGUE +Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; +Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: +What further woe conspires against mine age? + +PRINCE +Look, and thou shalt see. + +MONTAGUE +O thou untaught! what manners is in this? +To press before thy father to a grave? + +PRINCE +Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, +Till we can clear these ambiguities, +And know their spring, their head, their +true descent; +And then will I be general of your woes, +And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, +And let mischance be slave to patience. +Bring forth the parties of suspicion. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I am the greatest, able to do least, +Yet most suspected, as the time and place +Doth make against me of this direful murder; +And here I stand, both to impeach and purge +Myself condemned and myself excused. + +PRINCE +Then say at once what thou dost know in this. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I will be brief, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; +And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: +I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day +Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death +Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, +For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. +You, to remove that siege of grief from her, +Betroth'd and would have married her perforce +To County Paris: then comes she to me, +And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean +To rid her from this second marriage, +Or in my cell there would she kill herself. +Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, +A sleeping potion; which so took effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, +That he should hither come as this dire night, +To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, +Being the time the potion's force should cease. +But he which bore my letter, Friar John, +Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight +Return'd my letter back. Then all alone +At the prefixed hour of her waking, +Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; +Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, +Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: +But when I came, some minute ere the time +Of her awaking, here untimely lay +The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. +She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, +And bear this work of heaven with patience: +But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; +And she, too desperate, would not go with me, +But, as it seems, did violence on herself. +All this I know; and to the marriage +Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this +Miscarried by my fault, let my old life +Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, +Unto the rigour of severest law. + +PRINCE +We still have known thee for a holy man. +Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? + +BALTHASAR +I brought my master news of Juliet's death; +And then in post he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same monument. +This letter he early bid me give his father, +And threatened me with death, going in the vault, +I departed not and left him there. + +PRINCE +Give me the letter; I will look on it. +Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? +Sirrah, what made your master in this place? + +PAGE +He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; +And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: +Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; +And by and by my master drew on him; +And then I ran away to call the watch. + +PRINCE +This letter doth make good the friar's words, +Their course of love, the tidings of her death: +And here he writes that he did buy a poison +Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal +Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. +Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! +See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, +That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. +And I for winking at your discords too +Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. + +CAPULET +O brother Montague, give me thy hand: +This is my daughter's jointure, for no more +Can I demand. + +MONTAGUE +But I can give thee more: +For I will raise her statue in pure gold; +That while Verona by that name is known, +There shall no figure at such rate be set +As that of true and faithful Juliet. + +CAPULET +As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; +Poor sacrifices of our enmity! + +PRINCE +A glooming peace this morning with it brings; +The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: +Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; +Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: +For never was a story of more woe +Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. + +Exeunt +Antony and Cleopatra +Shakespeare homepage | Antony and Cleopatra | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO +PHILO +Nay, but this dotage of our general's +O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, +That o'er the files and musters of the war +Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, +The office and devotion of their view +Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, +Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst +The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper, +And is become the bellows and the fan +To cool a gipsy's lust. + +Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her + +Look, where they come: +Take but good note, and you shall see in him. +The triple pillar of the world transform'd +Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. + +CLEOPATRA +If it be love indeed, tell me how much. + +MARK ANTONY +There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. + +MARK ANTONY +Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +News, my good lord, from Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Grates me: the sum. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, hear them, Antony: +Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows +If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent +His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this; +Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; +Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' + +MARK ANTONY +How, my love! + +CLEOPATRA +Perchance! nay, and most like: +You must not stay here longer, your dismission +Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony. +Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both? +Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, +Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine +Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame +When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! + +MARK ANTONY +Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch +Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space. +Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike +Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life +Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair + +Embracing + +And such a twain can do't, in which I bind, +On pain of punishment, the world to weet +We stand up peerless. + +CLEOPATRA +Excellent falsehood! +Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? +I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony +Will be himself. + +MARK ANTONY +But stirr'd by Cleopatra. +Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, +Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: +There's not a minute of our lives should stretch +Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? + +CLEOPATRA +Hear the ambassadors. + +MARK ANTONY +Fie, wrangling queen! +Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, +To weep; whose every passion fully strives +To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! +No messenger, but thine; and all alone +To-night we'll wander through the streets and note +The qualities of people. Come, my queen; +Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with their train + +DEMETRIUS +Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? + +PHILO +Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, +He comes too short of that great property +Which still should go with Antony. + +DEMETRIUS +I am full sorry +That he approves the common liar, who +Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope +Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. Another room. + +Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer +CHARMIAN +Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, +almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer +that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew +this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns +with garlands! + +ALEXAS +Soothsayer! + +Soothsayer +Your will? + +CHARMIAN +Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? + +Soothsayer +In nature's infinite book of secrecy +A little I can read. + +ALEXAS +Show him your hand. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough +Cleopatra's health to drink. + +CHARMIAN +Good sir, give me good fortune. + +Soothsayer +I make not, but foresee. + +CHARMIAN +Pray, then, foresee me one. + +Soothsayer +You shall be yet far fairer than you are. + +CHARMIAN +He means in flesh. + +IRAS +No, you shall paint when you are old. + +CHARMIAN +Wrinkles forbid! + +ALEXAS +Vex not his prescience; be attentive. + +CHARMIAN +Hush! + +Soothsayer +You shall be more beloving than beloved. + +CHARMIAN +I had rather heat my liver with drinking. + +ALEXAS +Nay, hear him. + +CHARMIAN +Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married +to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: +let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry +may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius +Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. + +Soothsayer +You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. + +CHARMIAN +O excellent! I love long life better than figs. + +Soothsayer +You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune +Than that which is to approach. + +CHARMIAN +Then belike my children shall have no names: +prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? + +Soothsayer +If every of your wishes had a womb. +And fertile every wish, a million. + +CHARMIAN +Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. + +ALEXAS +You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, come, tell Iras hers. + +ALEXAS +We'll know all our fortunes. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall +be--drunk to bed. + +IRAS +There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. + +CHARMIAN +E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. + +IRAS +Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful +prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, +tell her but a worky-day fortune. + +Soothsayer +Your fortunes are alike. + +IRAS +But how, but how? give me particulars. + +Soothsayer +I have said. + +IRAS +Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? + +CHARMIAN +Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than +I, where would you choose it? + +IRAS +Not in my husband's nose. + +CHARMIAN +Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come, +his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman +that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let +her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst +follow worse, till the worst of all follow him +laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good +Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a +matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! + +IRAS +Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! +for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man +loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a +foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep +decorum, and fortune him accordingly! + +CHARMIAN +Amen. + +ALEXAS +Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a +cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but +they'ld do't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Hush! here comes Antony. + +CHARMIAN +Not he; the queen. + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +CLEOPATRA +Saw you my lord? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Was he not here? + +CHARMIAN +No, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden +A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Seek him, and bring him hither. +Where's Alexas? + +ALEXAS +Here, at your service. My lord approaches. + +CLEOPATRA +We will not look upon him: go with us. + +Exeunt + +Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants + +Messenger +Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. + +MARK ANTONY +Against my brother Lucius? + +Messenger +Ay: +But soon that war had end, and the time's state +Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar; +Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, +Upon the first encounter, drave them. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, what worst? + +Messenger +The nature of bad news infects the teller. + +MARK ANTONY +When it concerns the fool or coward. On: +Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus: +Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, +I hear him as he flatter'd. + +Messenger +Labienus-- +This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force, +Extended Asia from Euphrates; +His conquering banner shook from Syria +To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst-- + +MARK ANTONY +Antony, thou wouldst say,-- + +Messenger +O, my lord! + +MARK ANTONY +Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: +Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome; +Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults +With such full licence as both truth and malice +Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, +When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us +Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. + +Messenger +At your noble pleasure. + +Exit + +MARK ANTONY +From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! + +First Attendant +The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one? + +Second Attendant +He stays upon your will. + +MARK ANTONY +Let him appear. +These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, +Or lose myself in dotage. + +Enter another Messenger + +What are you? + +Second Messenger +Fulvia thy wife is dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Where died she? + +Second Messenger +In Sicyon: +Her length of sickness, with what else more serious +Importeth thee to know, this bears. + +Gives a letter + +MARK ANTONY +Forbear me. + +Exit Second Messenger + +There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: +What our contempt doth often hurl from us, +We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, +By revolution lowering, does become +The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; +The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. +I must from this enchanting queen break off: +Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, +My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus! + +Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's your pleasure, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +I must with haste from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, then, we kill all our women: +we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; +if they suffer our departure, death's the word. + +MARK ANTONY +I must be gone. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were +pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between +them and a great cause, they should be esteemed +nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of +this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty +times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is +mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon +her, she hath such a celerity in dying. + +MARK ANTONY +She is cunning past man's thought. + +Exit ALEXAS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but +the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her +winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater +storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this +cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a +shower of rain as well as Jove. + +MARK ANTONY +Would I had never seen her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece +of work; which not to have been blest withal would +have discredited your travel. + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir? + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Fulvia! + +MARK ANTONY +Dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When +it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man +from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; +comforting therein, that when old robes are worn +out, there are members to make new. If there were +no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, +and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned +with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new +petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion +that should water this sorrow. + +MARK ANTONY +The business she hath broached in the state +Cannot endure my absence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And the business you have broached here cannot be +without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which +wholly depends on your abode. + +MARK ANTONY +No more light answers. Let our officers +Have notice what we purpose. I shall break +The cause of our expedience to the queen, +And get her leave to part. For not alone +The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, +Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too +Of many our contriving friends in Rome +Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius +Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands +The empire of the sea: our slippery people, +Whose love is never link'd to the deserver +Till his deserts are past, begin to throw +Pompey the Great and all his dignities +Upon his son; who, high in name and power, +Higher than both in blood and life, stands up +For the main soldier: whose quality, going on, +The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding, +Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, +And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure, +To such whose place is under us, requires +Our quick remove from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall do't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Another room. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is he? + +CHARMIAN +I did not see him since. + +CLEOPATRA +See where he is, who's with him, what he does: +I did not send you: if you find him sad, +Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report +That I am sudden sick: quick, and return. + +Exit ALEXAS + +CHARMIAN +Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, +You do not hold the method to enforce +The like from him. + +CLEOPATRA +What should I do, I do not? + +CHARMIAN +In each thing give him way, cross him nothing. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. + +CHARMIAN +Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: +In time we hate that which we often fear. +But here comes Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY + +CLEOPATRA +I am sick and sullen. + +MARK ANTONY +I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: +It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature +Will not sustain it. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, my dearest queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, stand further from me. + +MARK ANTONY +What's the matter? + +CLEOPATRA +I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. +What says the married woman? You may go: +Would she had never given you leave to come! +Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here: +I have no power upon you; hers you are. + +MARK ANTONY +The gods best know,-- + +CLEOPATRA +O, never was there queen +So mightily betray'd! yet at the first +I saw the treasons planted. + +MARK ANTONY +Cleopatra,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Why should I think you can be mine and true, +Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, +Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, +To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, +Which break themselves in swearing! + +MARK ANTONY +Most sweet queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, +But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, +Then was the time for words: no going then; +Eternity was in our lips and eyes, +Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor, +But was a race of heaven: they are so still, +Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, +Art turn'd the greatest liar. + +MARK ANTONY +How now, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know +There were a heart in Egypt. + +MARK ANTONY +Hear me, queen: +The strong necessity of time commands +Our services awhile; but my full heart +Remains in use with you. Our Italy +Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius +Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: +Equality of two domestic powers +Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength, +Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, +Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace, +Into the hearts of such as have not thrived +Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; +And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge +By any desperate change: my more particular, +And that which most with you should safe my going, +Is Fulvia's death. + +CLEOPATRA +Though age from folly could not give me freedom, +It does from childishness: can Fulvia die? + +MARK ANTONY +She's dead, my queen: +Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read +The garboils she awaked; at the last, best: +See when and where she died. + +CLEOPATRA +O most false love! +Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill +With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, +In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. + +MARK ANTONY +Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know +The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, +As you shall give the advice. By the fire +That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence +Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war +As thou affect'st. + +CLEOPATRA +Cut my lace, Charmian, come; +But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, +So Antony loves. + +MARK ANTONY +My precious queen, forbear; +And give true evidence to his love, which stands +An honourable trial. + +CLEOPATRA +So Fulvia told me. +I prithee, turn aside and weep for her, +Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears +Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene +Of excellent dissembling; and let it look +Life perfect honour. + +MARK ANTONY +You'll heat my blood: no more. + +CLEOPATRA +You can do better yet; but this is meetly. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, by my sword,-- + +CLEOPATRA +And target. Still he mends; +But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, +How this Herculean Roman does become +The carriage of his chafe. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll leave you, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Courteous lord, one word. +Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: +Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it; +That you know well: something it is I would, +O, my oblivion is a very Antony, +And I am all forgotten. + +MARK ANTONY +But that your royalty +Holds idleness your subject, I should take you +For idleness itself. + +CLEOPATRA +'Tis sweating labour +To bear such idleness so near the heart +As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; +Since my becomings kill me, when they do not +Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence; +Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly. +And all the gods go with you! upon your sword +Sit laurel victory! and smooth success +Be strew'd before your feet! + +MARK ANTONY +Let us go. Come; +Our separation so abides, and flies, +That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, +And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS, and their Train +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, +It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate +Our great competitor: from Alexandria +This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes +The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like +Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy +More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or +Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there +A man who is the abstract of all faults +That all men follow. + +LEPIDUS +I must not think there are +Evils enow to darken all his goodness: +His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, +More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, +Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, +Than what he chooses. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not +Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; +To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit +And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; +To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet +With knaves that smell of sweat: say this +becomes him,-- +As his composure must be rare indeed +Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony +No way excuse his soils, when we do bear +So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd +His vacancy with his voluptuousness, +Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, +Call on him for't: but to confound such time, +That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud +As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid +As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, +Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, +And so rebel to judgment. + +Enter a Messenger + +LEPIDUS +Here's more news. + +Messenger +Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, +Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report +How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea; +And it appears he is beloved of those +That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports +The discontents repair, and men's reports +Give him much wrong'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I should have known no less. +It hath been taught us from the primal state, +That he which is was wish'd until he were; +And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love, +Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, +Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, +Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, +To rot itself with motion. + +Messenger +Caesar, I bring thee word, +Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, +Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound +With keels of every kind: many hot inroads +They make in Italy; the borders maritime +Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: +No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon +Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more +Than could his war resisted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Antony, +Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once +Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st +Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel +Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, +Though daintily brought up, with patience more +Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink +The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle +Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign +The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; +Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, +The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps +It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh, +Which some did die to look on: and all this-- +It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-- +Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek +So much as lank'd not. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis pity of him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let his shames quickly +Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain +Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end +Assemble we immediate council: Pompey +Thrives in our idleness. + +LEPIDUS +To-morrow, Caesar, +I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly +Both what by sea and land I can be able +To front this present time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Till which encounter, +It is my business too. Farewell. + +LEPIDUS +Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime +Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, +To let me be partaker. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Doubt not, sir; +I knew it for my bond. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Charmian! + +CHARMIAN +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Ha, ha! +Give me to drink mandragora. + +CHARMIAN +Why, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +That I might sleep out this great gap of time +My Antony is away. + +CHARMIAN +You think of him too much. + +CLEOPATRA +O, 'tis treason! + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I trust, not so. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou, eunuch Mardian! + +MARDIAN +What's your highness' pleasure? + +CLEOPATRA +Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure +In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee, +That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts +May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? + +MARDIAN +Yes, gracious madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed! + +MARDIAN +Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing +But what indeed is honest to be done: +Yet have I fierce affections, and think +What Venus did with Mars. + +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, +Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? +Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? +O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! +Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest? +The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm +And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, +Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?' +For so he calls me: now I feed myself +With most delicious poison. Think on me, +That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, +And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, +When thou wast here above the ground, I was +A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey +Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; +There would he anchor his aspect and die +With looking on his life. + +Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR + +ALEXAS +Sovereign of Egypt, hail! + +CLEOPATRA +How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! +Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath +With his tinct gilded thee. +How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? + +ALEXAS +Last thing he did, dear queen, +He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,-- +This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. + +CLEOPATRA +Mine ear must pluck it thence. + +ALEXAS +'Good friend,' quoth he, +'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends +This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, +To mend the petty present, I will piece +Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east, +Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded, +And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, +Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke +Was beastly dumb'd by him. + +CLEOPATRA +What, was he sad or merry? + +ALEXAS +Like to the time o' the year between the extremes +Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. + +CLEOPATRA +O well-divided disposition! Note him, +Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him: +He was not sad, for he would shine on those +That make their looks by his; he was not merry, +Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay +In Egypt with his joy; but between both: +O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry, +The violence of either thee becomes, +So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts? + +ALEXAS +Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: +Why do you send so thick? + +CLEOPATRA +Who's born that day +When I forget to send to Antony, +Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. +Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, +Ever love Caesar so? + +CHARMIAN +O that brave Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +Be choked with such another emphasis! +Say, the brave Antony. + +CHARMIAN +The valiant Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, +If thou with Caesar paragon again +My man of men. + +CHARMIAN +By your most gracious pardon, +I sing but after you. + +CLEOPATRA +My salad days, +When I was green in judgment: cold in blood, +To say as I said then! But, come, away; +Get me ink and paper: +He shall have every day a several greeting, +Or I'll unpeople Egypt. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Messina. POMPEY's house. + +Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike manner +POMPEY +If the great gods be just, they shall assist +The deeds of justest men. + +MENECRATES +Know, worthy Pompey, +That what they do delay, they not deny. + +POMPEY +Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays +The thing we sue for. + +MENECRATES +We, ignorant of ourselves, +Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers +Deny us for our good; so find we profit +By losing of our prayers. + +POMPEY +I shall do well: +The people love me, and the sea is mine; +My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope +Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony +In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make +No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where +He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, +Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, +Nor either cares for him. + +MENAS +Caesar and Lepidus +Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. + +POMPEY +Where have you this? 'tis false. + +MENAS +From Silvius, sir. + +POMPEY +He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, +Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, +Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip! +Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! +Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, +Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks +Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite; +That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour +Even till a Lethe'd dulness! + +Enter VARRIUS + +How now, Varrius! + +VARRIUS +This is most certain that I shall deliver: +Mark Antony is every hour in Rome +Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis +A space for further travel. + +POMPEY +I could have given less matter +A better ear. Menas, I did not think +This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm +For such a petty war: his soldiership +Is twice the other twain: but let us rear +The higher our opinion, that our stirring +Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck +The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony. + +MENAS +I cannot hope +Caesar and Antony shall well greet together: +His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; +His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, +Not moved by Antony. + +POMPEY +I know not, Menas, +How lesser enmities may give way to greater. +Were't not that we stand up against them all, +'Twere pregnant they should square between +themselves; +For they have entertained cause enough +To draw their swords: but how the fear of us +May cement their divisions and bind up +The petty difference, we yet not know. +Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands +Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. +Come, Menas. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. The house of LEPIDUS. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS +LEPIDUS +Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, +And shall become you well, to entreat your captain +To soft and gentle speech. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall entreat him +To answer like himself: if Caesar move him, +Let Antony look over Caesar's head +And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, +Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, +I would not shave't to-day. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis not a time +For private stomaching. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Every time +Serves for the matter that is then born in't. + +LEPIDUS +But small to greater matters must give way. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not if the small come first. + +LEPIDUS +Your speech is passion: +But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes +The noble Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And yonder, Caesar. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA + +MARK ANTONY +If we compose well here, to Parthia: +Hark, Ventidius. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not know, +Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. + +LEPIDUS +Noble friends, +That which combined us was most great, and let not +A leaner action rend us. What's amiss, +May it be gently heard: when we debate +Our trivial difference loud, we do commit +Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners, +The rather, for I earnestly beseech, +Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, +Nor curstness grow to the matter. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis spoken well. +Were we before our armies, and to fight. +I should do thus. + +Flourish + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome to Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Thank you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Sit. + +MARK ANTONY +Sit, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, then. + +MARK ANTONY +I learn, you take things ill which are not so, +Or being, concern you not. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I must be laugh'd at, +If, or for nothing or a little, I +Should say myself offended, and with you +Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should +Once name you derogately, when to sound your name +It not concern'd me. + +MARK ANTONY +My being in Egypt, Caesar, +What was't to you? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No more than my residing here at Rome +Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there +Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt +Might be my question. + +MARK ANTONY +How intend you, practised? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may be pleased to catch at mine intent +By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother +Made wars upon me; and their contestation +Was theme for you, you were the word of war. + +MARK ANTONY +You do mistake your business; my brother never +Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it; +And have my learning from some true reports, +That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather +Discredit my authority with yours; +And make the wars alike against my stomach, +Having alike your cause? Of this my letters +Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, +As matter whole you have not to make it with, +It must not be with this. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You praise yourself +By laying defects of judgment to me; but +You patch'd up your excuses. + +MARK ANTONY +Not so, not so; +I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, +Very necessity of this thought, that I, +Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, +Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars +Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, +I would you had her spirit in such another: +The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle +You may pace easy, but not such a wife. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would we had all such wives, that the men might go +to wars with the women! + +MARK ANTONY +So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar +Made out of her impatience, which not wanted +Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant +Did you too much disquiet: for that you must +But say, I could not help it. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I wrote to you +When rioting in Alexandria; you +Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts +Did gibe my missive out of audience. + +MARK ANTONY +Sir, +He fell upon me ere admitted: then +Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want +Of what I was i' the morning: but next day +I told him of myself; which was as much +As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow +Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, +Out of our question wipe him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You have broken +The article of your oath; which you shall never +Have tongue to charge me with. + +LEPIDUS +Soft, Caesar! + +MARK ANTONY +No, +Lepidus, let him speak: +The honour is sacred which he talks on now, +Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar; +The article of my oath. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +To lend me arms and aid when I required them; +The which you both denied. + +MARK ANTONY +Neglected, rather; +And then when poison'd hours had bound me up +From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may, +I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty +Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power +Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia, +To have me out of Egypt, made wars here; +For which myself, the ignorant motive, do +So far ask pardon as befits mine honour +To stoop in such a case. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis noble spoken. + +MECAENAS +If it might please you, to enforce no further +The griefs between ye: to forget them quite +Were to remember that the present need +Speaks to atone you. + +LEPIDUS +Worthily spoken, Mecaenas. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Or, if you borrow one another's love for the +instant, you may, when you hear no more words of +Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to +wrangle in when you have nothing else to do. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou art a soldier only: speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. + +MARK ANTONY +You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Go to, then; your considerate stone. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not much dislike the matter, but +The manner of his speech; for't cannot be +We shall remain in friendship, our conditions +So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew +What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge +O' the world I would pursue it. + +AGRIPPA +Give me leave, Caesar,-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Speak, Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, +Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony +Is now a widower. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Say not so, Agrippa: +If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof +Were well deserved of rashness. + +MARK ANTONY +I am not married, Caesar: let me hear +Agrippa further speak. + +AGRIPPA +To hold you in perpetual amity, +To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts +With an unslipping knot, take Antony +Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims +No worse a husband than the best of men; +Whose virtue and whose general graces speak +That which none else can utter. By this marriage, +All little jealousies, which now seem great, +And all great fears, which now import their dangers, +Would then be nothing: truths would be tales, +Where now half tales be truths: her love to both +Would, each to other and all loves to both, +Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke; +For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, +By duty ruminated. + +MARK ANTONY +Will Caesar speak? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd +With what is spoke already. + +MARK ANTONY +What power is in Agrippa, +If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' +To make this good? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The power of Caesar, and +His power unto Octavia. + +MARK ANTONY +May I never +To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, +Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand: +Further this act of grace: and from this hour +The heart of brothers govern in our loves +And sway our great designs! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There is my hand. +A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother +Did ever love so dearly: let her live +To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never +Fly off our loves again! + +LEPIDUS +Happily, amen! + +MARK ANTONY +I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey; +For he hath laid strange courtesies and great +Of late upon me: I must thank him only, +Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; +At heel of that, defy him. + +LEPIDUS +Time calls upon's: +Of us must Pompey presently be sought, +Or else he seeks out us. + +MARK ANTONY +Where lies he? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +About the mount Misenum. + +MARK ANTONY +What is his strength by land? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Great and increasing: but by sea +He is an absolute master. + +MARK ANTONY +So is the fame. +Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it: +Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we +The business we have talk'd of. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +With most gladness: +And do invite you to my sister's view, +Whither straight I'll lead you. + +MARK ANTONY +Let us, Lepidus, +Not lack your company. + +LEPIDUS +Noble Antony, +Not sickness should detain me. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, and LEPIDUS + +MECAENAS +Welcome from Egypt, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My +honourable friend, Agrippa! + +AGRIPPA +Good Enobarbus! + +MECAENAS +We have cause to be glad that matters are so well +digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and +made the night light with drinking. + +MECAENAS +Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and +but twelve persons there; is this true? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more +monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. + +MECAENAS +She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to +her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up +his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. + +AGRIPPA +There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised +well for her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will tell you. +The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, +Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; +Purple the sails, and so perfumed that +The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, +Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made +The water which they beat to follow faster, +As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, +It beggar'd all description: she did lie +In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue-- +O'er-picturing that Venus where we see +The fancy outwork nature: on each side her +Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, +With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem +To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, +And what they undid did. + +AGRIPPA +O, rare for Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, +So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, +And made their bends adornings: at the helm +A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle +Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, +That yarely frame the office. From the barge +A strange invisible perfume hits the sense +Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast +Her people out upon her; and Antony, +Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone, +Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, +Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, +And made a gap in nature. + +AGRIPPA +Rare Egyptian! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, +Invited her to supper: she replied, +It should be better he became her guest; +Which she entreated: our courteous Antony, +Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak, +Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast, +And for his ordinary pays his heart +For what his eyes eat only. + +AGRIPPA +Royal wench! +She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed: +He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I saw her once +Hop forty paces through the public street; +And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, +That she did make defect perfection, +And, breathless, power breathe forth. + +MECAENAS +Now Antony must leave her utterly. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Never; he will not: +Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale +Her infinite variety: other women cloy +The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry +Where most she satisfies; for vilest things +Become themselves in her: that the holy priests +Bless her when she is riggish. + +MECAENAS +If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle +The heart of Antony, Octavia is +A blessed lottery to him. + +AGRIPPA +Let us go. +Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest +Whilst you abide here. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Humbly, sir, I thank you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between them, and Attendants +MARK ANTONY +The world and my great office will sometimes +Divide me from your bosom. + +OCTAVIA +All which time +Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers +To them for you. + +MARK ANTONY +Good night, sir. My Octavia, +Read not my blemishes in the world's report: +I have not kept my square; but that to come +Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady. +Good night, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good night. + +Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA + +Enter Soothsayer + +MARK ANTONY +Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt? + +Soothsayer +Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither! + +MARK ANTONY +If you can, your reason? + +Soothsayer +I see it in +My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet +Hie you to Egypt again. + +MARK ANTONY +Say to me, +Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? + +Soothsayer +Caesar's. +Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side: +Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is +Noble, courageous high, unmatchable, +Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel +Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore +Make space enough between you. + +MARK ANTONY +Speak this no more. + +Soothsayer +To none but thee; no more, but when to thee. +If thou dost play with him at any game, +Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, +He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens, +When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit +Is all afraid to govern thee near him; +But, he away, 'tis noble. + +MARK ANTONY +Get thee gone: +Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: + +Exit Soothsayer + +He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, +He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him; +And in our sports my better cunning faints +Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds; +His cocks do win the battle still of mine, +When it is all to nought; and his quails ever +Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt: +And though I make this marriage for my peace, +I' the east my pleasure lies. + +Enter VENTIDIUS + +O, come, Ventidius, +You must to Parthia: your commission's ready; +Follow me, and receive't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A street. + +Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA +LEPIDUS +Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten +Your generals after. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, Mark Antony +Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. + +LEPIDUS +Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, +Which will become you both, farewell. + +MECAENAS +We shall, +As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount +Before you, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your way is shorter; +My purposes do draw me much about: +You'll win two days upon me. + +MECAENAS AGRIPPA +Sir, good success! + +LEPIDUS +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Give me some music; music, moody food +Of us that trade in love. + +Attendants +The music, ho! + +Enter MARDIAN + +CLEOPATRA +Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. + +CHARMIAN +My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. + +CLEOPATRA +As well a woman with an eunuch play'd +As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? + +MARDIAN +As well as I can, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +And when good will is show'd, though't come +too short, +The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: +Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, +My music playing far off, I will betray +Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce +Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, +I'll think them every one an Antony, +And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.' + +CHARMIAN +'Twas merry when +You wager'd on your angling; when your diver +Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he +With fervency drew up. + +CLEOPATRA +That time,--O times!-- +I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night +I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn, +Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; +Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst +I wore his sword Philippan. + +Enter a Messenger + +O, from Italy +Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, +That long time have been barren. + +Messenger +Madam, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, +Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, +If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here +My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings +Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. + +Messenger +First, madam, he is well. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, there's more gold. +But, sirrah, mark, we use +To say the dead are well: bring it to that, +The gold I give thee will I melt and pour +Down thy ill-uttering throat. + +Messenger +Good madam, hear me. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, go to, I will; +But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony +Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour +To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, +Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, +Not like a formal man. + +Messenger +Will't please you hear me? + +CLEOPATRA +I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: +Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, +Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, +I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail +Rich pearls upon thee. + +Messenger +Madam, he's well. + +CLEOPATRA +Well said. + +Messenger +And friends with Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou'rt an honest man. + +Messenger +Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + +CLEOPATRA +Make thee a fortune from me. + +Messenger +But yet, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay +The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'! +'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth +Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, +Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, +The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: +In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. + +Messenger +Free, madam! no; I made no such report: +He's bound unto Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +For what good turn? + +Messenger +For the best turn i' the bed. + +CLEOPATRA +I am pale, Charmian. + +Messenger +Madam, he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +The most infectious pestilence upon thee! + +Strikes him down + +Messenger +Good madam, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +What say you? Hence, + +Strikes him again + +Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes +Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: + +She hales him up and down + +Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, +Smarting in lingering pickle. + +Messenger +Gracious madam, +I that do bring the news made not the match. + +CLEOPATRA +Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, +And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst +Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; +And I will boot thee with what gift beside +Thy modesty can beg. + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Rogue, thou hast lived too long. + +Draws a knife + +Messenger +Nay, then I'll run. +What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. + +Exit + +CHARMIAN +Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: +The man is innocent. + +CLEOPATRA +Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. +Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures +Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: +Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. + +CHARMIAN +He is afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +I will not hurt him. + +Exit CHARMIAN + +These hands do lack nobility, that they strike +A meaner than myself; since I myself +Have given myself the cause. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger + +Come hither, sir. +Though it be honest, it is never good +To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. +An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell +Themselves when they be felt. + +Messenger +I have done my duty. + +CLEOPATRA +Is he married? +I cannot hate thee worser than I do, +If thou again say 'Yes.' + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? + +Messenger +Should I lie, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +O, I would thou didst, +So half my Egypt were submerged and made +A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: +Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me +Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? + +Messenger +I crave your highness' pardon. + +CLEOPATRA +He is married? + +Messenger +Take no offence that I would not offend you: +To punish me for what you make me do. +Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, +That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: +The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome +Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, +And be undone by 'em! + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +Good your highness, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. + +CHARMIAN +Many times, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I am paid for't now. +Lead me from hence: +I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. +Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him +Report the feature of Octavia, her years, +Her inclination, let him not leave out +The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. + +Exit ALEXAS + +Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, +Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, +The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas + +To MARDIAN + +Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, +But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near Misenum. + +Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS, with Soldiers marching +POMPEY +Your hostages I have, so have you mine; +And we shall talk before we fight. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most meet +That first we come to words; and therefore have we +Our written purposes before us sent; +Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know +If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword, +And carry back to Sicily much tall youth +That else must perish here. + +POMPEY +To you all three, +The senators alone of this great world, +Chief factors for the gods, I do not know +Wherefore my father should revengers want, +Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar, +Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, +There saw you labouring for him. What was't +That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what +Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus, +With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom, +To drench the Capitol; but that they would +Have one man but a man? And that is it +Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen +The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant +To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome +Cast on my noble father. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take your time. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails; +We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st +How much we do o'er-count thee. + +POMPEY +At land, indeed, +Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house: +But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, +Remain in't as thou mayst. + +LEPIDUS +Be pleased to tell us-- +For this is from the present--how you take +The offers we have sent you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There's the point. + +MARK ANTONY +Which do not be entreated to, but weigh +What it is worth embraced. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +And what may follow, +To try a larger fortune. + +POMPEY +You have made me offer +Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must +Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send +Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon +To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back +Our targes undinted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +That's our offer. + +POMPEY +Know, then, +I came before you here a man prepared +To take this offer: but Mark Antony +Put me to some impatience: though I lose +The praise of it by telling, you must know, +When Caesar and your brother were at blows, +Your mother came to Sicily and did find +Her welcome friendly. + +MARK ANTONY +I have heard it, Pompey; +And am well studied for a liberal thanks +Which I do owe you. + +POMPEY +Let me have your hand: +I did not think, sir, to have met you here. + +MARK ANTONY +The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you, +That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither; +For I have gain'd by 't. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Since I saw you last, +There is a change upon you. + +POMPEY +Well, I know not +What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face; +But in my bosom shall she never come, +To make my heart her vassal. + +LEPIDUS +Well met here. + +POMPEY +I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed: +I crave our composition may be written, +And seal'd between us. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That's the next to do. + +POMPEY +We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's +Draw lots who shall begin. + +MARK ANTONY +That will I, Pompey. + +POMPEY +No, Antony, take the lot: but, first +Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery +Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar +Grew fat with feasting there. + +MARK ANTONY +You have heard much. + +POMPEY +I have fair meanings, sir. + +MARK ANTONY +And fair words to them. + +POMPEY +Then so much have I heard: +And I have heard, Apollodorus carried-- + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No more of that: he did so. + +POMPEY +What, I pray you? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. + +POMPEY +I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well; +And well am like to do; for, I perceive, +Four feasts are toward. + +POMPEY +Let me shake thy hand; +I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight, +When I have envied thy behavior. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir, +I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye, +When you have well deserved ten times as much +As I have said you did. + +POMPEY +Enjoy thy plainness, +It nothing ill becomes thee. +Aboard my galley I invite you all: +Will you lead, lords? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +Show us the way, sir. + +POMPEY +Come. + +Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS + +MENAS +[Aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have +made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +At sea, I think. + +MENAS +We have, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +You have done well by water. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will praise any man that will praise me; though it +cannot be denied what I have done by land. + +MENAS +Nor what I have done by water. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Yes, something you can deny for your own +safety: you have been a great thief by sea. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There I deny my land service. But give me your +hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they +might take two thieves kissing. + +MENAS +All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But there is never a fair woman has a true face. + +MENAS +No slander; they steal hearts. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +We came hither to fight with you. + +MENAS +For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. +Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again. + +MENAS +You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony +here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar's sister is called Octavia. + +MENAS +True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. + +MENAS +Pray ye, sir? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Tis true. + +MENAS +Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would +not prophesy so. + +MENAS +I think the policy of that purpose made more in the +marriage than the love of the parties. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I think so too. But you shall find, the band that +seems to tie their friendship together will be the +very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a +holy, cold, and still conversation. + +MENAS +Who would not have his wife so? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. +He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the +sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as +I said before, that which is the strength of their +amity shall prove the immediate author of their +variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: +he married but his occasion here. + +MENAS +And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? +I have a health for you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt. + +MENAS +Come, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum. + +Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet +First Servant +Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are +ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world +will blow them down. + +Second Servant +Lepidus is high-coloured. + +First Servant +They have made him drink alms-drink. + +Second Servant +As they pinch one another by the disposition, he +cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his +entreaty, and himself to the drink. + +First Servant +But it raises the greater war between him and +his discretion. + +Second Servant +Why, this is to have a name in great men's +fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do +me no service as a partisan I could not heave. + +First Servant +To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen +to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, +which pitifully disaster the cheeks. + +A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains + +MARK ANTONY +[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take +the flow o' the Nile +By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, +By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth +Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells, +The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman +Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, +And shortly comes to harvest. + +LEPIDUS +You've strange serpents there. + +MARK ANTONY +Ay, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the +operation of your sun: so is your crocodile. + +MARK ANTONY +They are so. + +POMPEY +Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then. + +LEPIDUS +Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' +pyramises are very goodly things; without +contradiction, I have heard that. + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Say in mine ear: +what is't? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech +thee, captain, +And hear me speak a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Forbear me till anon. +This wine for Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +What manner o' thing is your crocodile? + +MARK ANTONY +It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad +as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is, +and moves with its own organs: it lives by that +which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of +it, it transmigrates. + +LEPIDUS +What colour is it of? + +MARK ANTONY +Of it own colour too. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis a strange serpent. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Will this description satisfy him? + +MARK ANTONY +With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a +very epicure. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of +that? away! +Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] If for the sake of merit thou +wilt hear me, +Rise from thy stool. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] I think thou'rt mad. +The matter? + +Rises, and walks aside + +MENAS +I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. + +POMPEY +Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say? +Be jolly, lords. + +MARK ANTONY +These quick-sands, Lepidus, +Keep off them, for you sink. + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of all the world? + +POMPEY +What say'st thou? + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. + +POMPEY +How should that be? + +MENAS +But entertain it, +And, though thou think me poor, I am the man +Will give thee all the world. + +POMPEY +Hast thou drunk well? + +MENAS +Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. +Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove: +Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, +Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. + +POMPEY +Show me which way. + +MENAS +These three world-sharers, these competitors, +Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable; +And, when we are put off, fall to their throats: +All there is thine. + +POMPEY +Ah, this thou shouldst have done, +And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany; +In thee't had been good service. Thou must know, +'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; +Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue +Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown, +I should have found it afterwards well done; +But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. + +MENAS +[Aside] For this, +I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. +Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, +Shall never find it more. + +POMPEY +This health to Lepidus! + +MARK ANTONY +Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Here's to thee, Menas! + +MENAS +Enobarbus, welcome! + +POMPEY +Fill till the cup be hid. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There's a strong fellow, Menas. + +Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS + +MENAS +Why? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st +not? + +MENAS +The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all, +That it might go on wheels! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Drink thou; increase the reels. + +MENAS +Come. + +POMPEY +This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. + +MARK ANTONY +It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho? +Here is to Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I could well forbear't. +It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, +And it grows fouler. + +MARK ANTONY +Be a child o' the time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Possess it, I'll make answer: +But I had rather fast from all four days +Than drink so much in one. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ha, my brave emperor! + +To MARK ANTONY + +Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals, +And celebrate our drink? + +POMPEY +Let's ha't, good soldier. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, let's all take hands, +Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense +In soft and delicate Lethe. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +All take hands. +Make battery to our ears with the loud music: +The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing; +The holding every man shall bear as loud +As his strong sides can volley. + +Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand + +THE SONG. +Come, thou monarch of the vine, +Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! +In thy fats our cares be drown'd, +With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: +Cup us, till the world go round, +Cup us, till the world go round! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, +Let me request you off: our graver business +Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; +You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb +Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue +Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost +Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. +Good Antony, your hand. + +POMPEY +I'll try you on the shore. + +MARK ANTONY +And shall, sir; give's your hand. + +POMPEY +O Antony, +You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends. +Come, down into the boat. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Take heed you fall not. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS + +Menas, I'll not on shore. + +MENAS +No, to my cabin. +These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what! +Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell +To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out! + +Sound a flourish, with drums + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ho! says a' There's my cap. + +MENAS +Ho! Noble captain, come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A plain in Syria. + +Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of PACORUS borne before him +VENTIDIUS +Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now +Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death +Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body +Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, +Pays this for Marcus Crassus. + +SILIUS +Noble Ventidius, +Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, +The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media, +Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither +The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony +Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and +Put garlands on thy head. + +VENTIDIUS +O Silius, Silius, +I have done enough; a lower place, note well, +May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius; +Better to leave undone, than by our deed +Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away. +Caesar and Antony have ever won +More in their officer than person: Sossius, +One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, +For quick accumulation of renown, +Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. +Who does i' the wars more than his captain can +Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition, +The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, +Than gain which darkens him. +I could do more to do Antonius good, +But 'twould offend him; and in his offence +Should my performance perish. + +SILIUS +Thou hast, Ventidius, +that +Without the which a soldier, and his sword, +Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony! + +VENTIDIUS +I'll humbly signify what in his name, +That magical word of war, we have effected; +How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, +The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia +We have jaded out o' the field. + +SILIUS +Where is he now? + +VENTIDIUS +He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste +The weight we must convey with's will permit, +We shall appear before him. On there; pass along! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS at another +AGRIPPA +What, are the brothers parted? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone; +The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps +To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus, +Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled +With the green sickness. + +AGRIPPA +'Tis a noble Lepidus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar! + +AGRIPPA +Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. + +AGRIPPA +What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil! + +AGRIPPA +O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further. + +AGRIPPA +Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony: +Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, +poets, cannot +Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho! +His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, +Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. + +AGRIPPA +Both he loves. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They are his shards, and he their beetle. + +Trumpets within + +So; +This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +No further, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You take from me a great part of myself; +Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife +As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band +Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, +Let not the piece of virtue, which is set +Betwixt us as the cement of our love, +To keep it builded, be the ram to batter +The fortress of it; for better might we +Have loved without this mean, if on both parts +This be not cherish'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Make me not offended +In your distrust. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have said. + +MARK ANTONY +You shall not find, +Though you be therein curious, the least cause +For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you, +And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! +We will here part. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: +The elements be kind to thee, and make +Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. + +OCTAVIA +My noble brother! + +MARK ANTONY +The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring, +And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. + +OCTAVIA +Sir, look well to my husband's house; and-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What, Octavia? + +OCTAVIA +I'll tell you in your ear. + +MARK ANTONY +Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can +Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's +down-feather, +That stands upon the swell at full of tide, +And neither way inclines. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] Will Caesar weep? + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] He has a cloud in 's face. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] He were the worse for that, +were he a horse; +So is he, being a man. + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] Why, Enobarbus, +When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, +He cried almost to roaring; and he wept +When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] That year, indeed, he was +troubled with a rheum; +What willingly he did confound he wail'd, +Believe't, till I wept too. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, sweet Octavia, +You shall hear from me still; the time shall not +Out-go my thinking on you. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, sir, come; +I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: +Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, +And give you to the gods. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Adieu; be happy! + +LEPIDUS +Let all the number of the stars give light +To thy fair way! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, fa rewell! + +Kisses OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +Farewell! + +Trumpets sound. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is the fellow? + +ALEXAS +Half afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +Go to, go to. + +Enter the Messenger as before + +Come hither, sir. + +ALEXAS +Good majesty, +Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you +But when you are well pleased. + +CLEOPATRA +That Herod's head +I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone +Through whom I might command it? Come thou near. + +Messenger +Most gracious majesty,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Didst thou behold Octavia? + +Messenger +Ay, dread queen. + +CLEOPATRA +Where? + +Messenger +Madam, in Rome; +I look'd her in the face, and saw her led +Between her brother and Mark Antony. + +CLEOPATRA +Is she as tall as me? + +Messenger +She is not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? + +Messenger +Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. + +CLEOPATRA +That's not so good: he cannot like her long. + +CHARMIAN +Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible. + +CLEOPATRA +I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish! +What majesty is in her gait? Remember, +If e'er thou look'dst on majesty. + +Messenger +She creeps: +Her motion and her station are as one; +She shows a body rather than a life, +A statue than a breather. + +CLEOPATRA +Is this certain? + +Messenger +Or I have no observance. + +CHARMIAN +Three in Egypt +Cannot make better note. + +CLEOPATRA +He's very knowing; +I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet: +The fellow has good judgment. + +CHARMIAN +Excellent. + +CLEOPATRA +Guess at her years, I prithee. + +Messenger +Madam, +She was a widow,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Widow! Charmian, hark. + +Messenger +And I do think she's thirty. + +CLEOPATRA +Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? + +Messenger +Round even to faultiness. + +CLEOPATRA +For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. +Her hair, what colour? + +Messenger +Brown, madam: and her forehead +As low as she would wish it. + +CLEOPATRA +There's gold for thee. +Thou must not take my former sharpness ill: +I will employ thee back again; I find thee +Most fit for business: go make thee ready; +Our letters are prepared. + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +A proper man. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed, he is so: I repent me much +That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, +This creature's no such thing. + +CHARMIAN +Nothing, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. + +CHARMIAN +Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, +And serving you so long! + +CLEOPATRA +I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian: +But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me +Where I will write. All may be well enough. + +CHARMIAN +I warrant you, madam. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA +MARK ANTONY +Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,-- +That were excusable, that, and thousands more +Of semblable import,--but he hath waged +New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it +To public ear: +Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not +But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly +He vented them; most narrow measure lent me: +When the best hint was given him, he not took't, +Or did it from his teeth. + +OCTAVIA +O my good lord, +Believe not all; or, if you must believe, +Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, +If this division chance, ne'er stood between, +Praying for both parts: +The good gods me presently, +When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!' +Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, +'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother, +Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway +'Twixt these extremes at all. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle Octavia, +Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks +Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour, +I lose myself: better I were not yours +Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, +Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady, +I'll raise the preparation of a war +Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste; +So your desires are yours. + +OCTAVIA +Thanks to my lord. +The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak, +Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be +As if the world should cleave, and that slain men +Should solder up the rift. + +MARK ANTONY +When it appears to you where this begins, +Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults +Can never be so equal, that your love +Can equally move with them. Provide your going; +Choose your own company, and command what cost +Your heart has mind to. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. Another room. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How now, friend Eros! + +EROS +There's strange news come, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What, man? + +EROS +Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This is old: what is the success? + +EROS +Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst +Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let +him partake in the glory of the action: and not +resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly +wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so +the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; +And throw between them all the food thou hast, +They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? + +EROS +He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns +The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!' +And threats the throat of that his officer +That murder'd Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Our great navy's rigg'd. + +EROS +For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; +My lord desires you presently: my news +I might have told hereafter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Twill be naught: +But let it be. Bring me to Antony. + +EROS +Come, sir. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more, +In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't: +I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd, +Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold +Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat +Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, +And all the unlawful issue that their lust +Since then hath made between them. Unto her +He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her +Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, +Absolute queen. + +MECAENAS +This in the public eye? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I' the common show-place, where they exercise. +His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings: +Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia. +He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd +Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she +In the habiliments of the goddess Isis +That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience, +As 'tis reported, so. + +MECAENAS +Let Rome be thus Inform'd. + +AGRIPPA +Who, queasy with his insolence +Already, will their good thoughts call from him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The people know it; and have now received +His accusations. + +AGRIPPA +Who does he accuse? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Caesar: and that, having in Sicily +Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him +His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me +Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets +That Lepidus of the triumvirate +Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain +All his revenue. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, this should be answer'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. +I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel; +That he his high authority abused, +And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd, +I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia, +And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I +Demand the like. + +MECAENAS +He'll never yield to that. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nor must not then be yielded to in this. + +Enter OCTAVIA with her train + +OCTAVIA +Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That ever I should call thee castaway! + +OCTAVIA +You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not +Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony +Should have an army for an usher, and +The neighs of horse to tell of her approach +Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way +Should have borne men; and expectation fainted, +Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust +Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, +Raised by your populous troops: but you are come +A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented +The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, +Is often left unloved; we should have met you +By sea and land; supplying every stage +With an augmented greeting. + +OCTAVIA +Good my lord, +To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did +On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, +Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted +My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd +His pardon for return. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which soon he granted, +Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him. + +OCTAVIA +Do not say so, my lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have eyes upon him, +And his affairs come to me on the wind. +Where is he now? + +OCTAVIA +My lord, in Athens. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra +Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire +Up to a whore; who now are levying +The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled +Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus, +Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king +Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; +King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont; +Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king +Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, +The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, +With a more larger list of sceptres. + +OCTAVIA +Ay me, most wretched, +That have my heart parted betwixt two friends +That do afflict each other! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome hither: +Your letters did withhold our breaking forth; +Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led, +And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart; +Be you not troubled with the time, which drives +O'er your content these strong necessities; +But let determined things to destiny +Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome; +Nothing more dear to me. You are abused +Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods, +To do you justice, make them ministers +Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort; +And ever welcome to us. + +AGRIPPA +Welcome, lady. + +MECAENAS +Welcome, dear madam. +Each heart in Rome does love and pity you: +Only the adulterous Antony, most large +In his abominations, turns you off; +And gives his potent regiment to a trull, +That noises it against us. + +OCTAVIA +Is it so, sir? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you, +Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +CLEOPATRA +I will be even with thee, doubt it not. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But why, why, why? + +CLEOPATRA +Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, +And say'st it is not fit. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well, is it, is it? + +CLEOPATRA +If not denounced against us, why should not we +Be there in person? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Well, I could reply: +If we should serve with horse and mares together, +The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear +A soldier and his horse. + +CLEOPATRA +What is't you say? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; +Take from his heart, take from his brain, +from's time, +What should not then be spared. He is already +Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome +That Photinus an eunuch and your maids +Manage this war. + +CLEOPATRA +Sink Rome, and their tongues rot +That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war, +And, as the president of my kingdom, will +Appear there for a man. Speak not against it: +I will not stay behind. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Nay, I have done. +Here comes the emperor. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS + +MARK ANTONY +Is it not strange, Canidius, +That from Tarentum and Brundusium +He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea, +And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet? + +CLEOPATRA +Celerity is never more admired +Than by the negligent. + +MARK ANTONY +A good rebuke, +Which might have well becomed the best of men, +To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we +Will fight with him by sea. + +CLEOPATRA +By sea! what else? + +CANIDIUS +Why will my lord do so? + +MARK ANTONY +For that he dares us to't. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +So hath my lord dared him to single fight. + +CANIDIUS +Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia. +Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers, +Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off; +And so should you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your ships are not well mann'd; +Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people +Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet +Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought: +Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace +Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, +Being prepared for land. + +MARK ANTONY +By sea, by sea. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Most worthy sir, you therein throw away +The absolute soldiership you have by land; +Distract your army, which doth most consist +Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted +Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego +The way which promises assurance; and +Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, +From firm security. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll fight at sea. + +CLEOPATRA +I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. + +MARK ANTONY +Our overplus of shipping will we burn; +And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium +Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail, +We then can do't at land. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy business? + +Messenger +The news is true, my lord; he is descried; +Caesar has taken Toryne. + +MARK ANTONY +Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible; +Strange that power should be. Canidius, +Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, +And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship: +Away, my Thetis! + +Enter a Soldier + +How now, worthy soldier? + +Soldier +O noble emperor, do not fight by sea; +Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt +This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians +And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we +Have used to conquer, standing on the earth, +And fighting foot to foot. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well: away! + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +Soldier +By Hercules, I think I am i' the right. + +CANIDIUS +Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows +Not in the power on't: so our leader's led, +And we are women's men. + +Soldier +You keep by land +The legions and the horse whole, do you not? + +CANIDIUS +Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, +Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea: +But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's +Carries beyond belief. + +Soldier +While he was yet in Rome, +His power went out in such distractions as +Beguiled all spies. + +CANIDIUS +Who's his lieutenant, hear you? + +Soldier +They say, one Taurus. + +CANIDIUS +Well I know the man. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The emperor calls Canidius. + +CANIDIUS +With news the time's with labour, and throes forth, +Each minute, some. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Taurus! + +TAURUS +My lord? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle, +Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed +The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies +Upon this jump. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. Another part of the plain. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +MARK ANTONY +Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill, +In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place +We may the number of the ships behold, +And so proceed accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. Another part of the plain. + +CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight + +Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer: +The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, +With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder: +To see't mine eyes are blasted. + +Enter SCARUS + +SCARUS +Gods and goddesses, +All the whole synod of them! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's thy passion! + +SCARUS +The greater cantle of the world is lost +With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away +Kingdoms and provinces. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How appears the fight? + +SCARUS +On our side like the token'd pestilence, +Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,-- +Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight, +When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, +Both as the same, or rather ours the elder, +The breese upon her, like a cow in June, +Hoists sails and flies. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That I beheld: +Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not +Endure a further view. + +SCARUS +She once being loof'd, +The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, +Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, +Leaving the fight in height, flies after her: +I never saw an action of such shame; +Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before +Did violate so itself. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, alack! + +Enter CANIDIUS + +CANIDIUS +Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, +And sinks most lamentably. Had our general +Been what he knew himself, it had gone well: +O, he has given example for our flight, +Most grossly, by his own! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, are you thereabouts? +Why, then, good night indeed. + +CANIDIUS +Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. + +SCARUS +'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend +What further comes. + +CANIDIUS +To Caesar will I render +My legions and my horse: six kings already +Show me the way of yielding. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll yet follow +The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason +Sits in the wind against me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants +MARK ANTONY +Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't; +It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither: +I am so lated in the world, that I +Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship +Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, +And make your peace with Caesar. + +All +Fly! not we. + +MARK ANTONY +I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards +To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; +I have myself resolved upon a course +Which has no need of you; be gone: +My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O, +I follow'd that I blush to look upon: +My very hairs do mutiny; for the white +Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them +For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall +Have letters from me to some friends that will +Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, +Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint +Which my despair proclaims; let that be left +Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway: +I will possess you of that ship and treasure. +Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now: +Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, +Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by. + +Sits down + +Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS following + +EROS +Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. + +IRAS +Do, most dear queen. + +CHARMIAN +Do! why: what else? + +CLEOPATRA +Let me sit down. O Juno! + +MARK ANTONY +No, no, no, no, no. + +EROS +See you here, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +O fie, fie, fie! + +CHARMIAN +Madam! + +IRAS +Madam, O good empress! + +EROS +Sir, sir,-- + +MARK ANTONY +Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept +His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck +The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I +That the mad Brutus ended: he alone +Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had +In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter. + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, stand by. + +EROS +The queen, my lord, the queen. + +IRAS +Go to him, madam, speak to him: +He is unqualitied with very shame. + +CLEOPATRA +Well then, sustain him: O! + +EROS +Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches: +Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but +Your comfort makes the rescue. + +MARK ANTONY +I have offended reputation, +A most unnoble swerving. + +EROS +Sir, the queen. + +MARK ANTONY +O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, +How I convey my shame out of thine eyes +By looking back what I have left behind +'Stroy'd in dishonour. + +CLEOPATRA +O my lord, my lord, +Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought +You would have follow'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Egypt, thou knew'st too well +My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, +And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit +Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that +Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods +Command me. + +CLEOPATRA +O, my pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Now I must +To the young man send humble treaties, dodge +And palter in the shifts of lowness; who +With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, +Making and marring fortunes. You did know +How much you were my conqueror; and that +My sword, made weak by my affection, would +Obey it on all cause. + +CLEOPATRA +Pardon, pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates +All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; +Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; +Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. +Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows +We scorn her most when most she offers blows. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him appear that's come from Antony. +Know you him? + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster: +An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither +He sends so poor a pinion off his wing, +Which had superfluous kings for messengers +Not many moons gone by. + +Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Approach, and speak. + +EUPHRONIUS +Such as I am, I come from Antony: +I was of late as petty to his ends +As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf +To his grand sea. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Be't so: declare thine office. + +EUPHRONIUS +Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and +Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted, +He lessens his requests; and to thee sues +To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, +A private man in Athens: this for him. +Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness; +Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves +The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, +Now hazarded to thy grace. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +For Antony, +I have no ears to his request. The queen +Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she +From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, +Or take his life there: this if she perform, +She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. + +EUPHRONIUS +Fortune pursue thee! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bring him through the bands. + +Exit EUPHRONIUS + +To THYREUS + +From Antony win Cleopatra: promise, +And in our name, what she requires; add more, +From thine invention, offers: women are not +In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure +The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus; +Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we +Will answer as a law. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I go. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, +And what thou think'st his very action speaks +In every power that moves. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +What shall we do, Enobarbus? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Think, and die. + +CLEOPATRA +Is Antony or we in fault for this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Antony only, that would make his will +Lord of his reason. What though you fled +From that great face of war, whose several ranges +Frighted each other? why should he follow? +The itch of his affection should not then +Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point, +When half to half the world opposed, he being +The meered question: 'twas a shame no less +Than was his loss, to course your flying flags, +And leave his navy gazing. + +CLEOPATRA +Prithee, peace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador + +MARK ANTONY +Is that his answer? + +EUPHRONIUS +Ay, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +The queen shall then have courtesy, so she +Will yield us up. + +EUPHRONIUS +He says so. + +MARK ANTONY +Let her know't. +To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, +And he will fill thy wishes to the brim +With principalities. + +CLEOPATRA +That head, my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +To him again: tell him he wears the rose +Of youth upon him; from which the world should note +Something particular: his coin, ships, legions, +May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail +Under the service of a child as soon +As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore +To lay his gay comparisons apart, +And answer me declined, sword against sword, +Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will +Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show, +Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are +A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward +Do draw the inward quality after them, +To suffer all alike. That he should dream, +Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will +Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued +His judgment too. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +A messenger from CAESAR. + +CLEOPATRA +What, no more ceremony? See, my women! +Against the blown rose may they stop their nose +That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. + +Exit Attendant + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square. +The loyalty well held to fools does make +Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure +To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord +Does conquer him that did his master conquer +And earns a place i' the story. + +Enter THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Caesar's will? + +THYREUS +Hear it apart. + +CLEOPATRA +None but friends: say boldly. + +THYREUS +So, haply, are they friends to Antony. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has; +Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master +Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, +Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's. + +THYREUS +So. +Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats, +Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, +Further than he is Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Go on: right royal. + +THYREUS +He knows that you embrace not Antony +As you did love, but as you fear'd him. + +CLEOPATRA +O! + +THYREUS +The scars upon your honour, therefore, he +Does pity, as constrained blemishes, +Not as deserved. + +CLEOPATRA +He is a god, and knows +What is most right: mine honour was not yielded, +But conquer'd merely. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] To be sure of that, +I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky, +That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for +Thy dearest quit thee. + +Exit + +THYREUS +Shall I say to Caesar +What you require of him? for he partly begs +To be desired to give. It much would please him, +That of his fortunes you should make a staff +To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits, +To hear from me you had left Antony, +And put yourself under his shrowd, +The universal landlord. + +CLEOPATRA +What's your name? + +THYREUS +My name is Thyreus. + +CLEOPATRA +Most kind messenger, +Say to great Caesar this: in deputation +I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt +To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel: +Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear +The doom of Egypt. + +THYREUS +'Tis your noblest course. +Wisdom and fortune combating together, +If that the former dare but what it can, +No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay +My duty on your hand. + +CLEOPATRA +Your Caesar's father oft, +When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, +Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place, +As it rain'd kisses. + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +MARK ANTONY +Favours, by Jove that thunders! +What art thou, fellow? + +THYREUS +One that but performs +The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest +To have command obey'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] You will be whipp'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods +and devils! +Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!' +Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, +And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am +Antony yet. + +Enter Attendants + +Take hence this Jack, and whip him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp +Than with an old one dying. + +MARK ANTONY +Moon and stars! +Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries +That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them +So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name, +Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, +Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face, +And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence. + +THYREUS +Mark Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Tug him away: being whipp'd, +Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall +Bear us an errand to him. + +Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS + +You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha! +Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, +Forborne the getting of a lawful race, +And by a gem of women, to be abused +By one that looks on feeders? + +CLEOPATRA +Good my lord,-- + +MARK ANTONY +You have been a boggler ever: +But when we in our viciousness grow hard-- +O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes; +In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us +Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut +To our confusion. + +CLEOPATRA +O, is't come to this? + +MARK ANTONY +I found you as a morsel cold upon +Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment +Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, +Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have +Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure, +Though you can guess what temperance should be, +You know not what it is. + +CLEOPATRA +Wherefore is this? + +MARK ANTONY +To let a fellow that will take rewards +And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with +My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal +And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were +Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar +The horned herd! for I have savage cause; +And to proclaim it civilly, were like +A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank +For being yare about him. + +Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS + +Is he whipp'd? + +First Attendant +Soundly, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? + +First Attendant +He did ask favour. + +MARK ANTONY +If that thy father live, let him repent +Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry +To follow Caesar in his triumph, since +Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth +The white hand of a lady fever thee, +Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar, +Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say +He makes me angry with him; for he seems +Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, +Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry; +And at this time most easy 'tis to do't, +When my good stars, that were my former guides, +Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires +Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike +My speech and what is done, tell him he has +Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom +He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, +As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou: +Hence with thy stripes, begone! + +Exit THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Have you done yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Alack, our terrene moon +Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone +The fall of Antony! + +CLEOPATRA +I must stay his time. + +MARK ANTONY +To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes +With one that ties his points? + +CLEOPATRA +Not know me yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Cold-hearted toward me? + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, dear, if I be so, +From my cold heart let heaven engender hail, +And poison it in the source; and the first stone +Drop in my neck: as it determines, so +Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite! +Till by degrees the memory of my womb, +Together with my brave Egyptians all, +By the discandying of this pelleted storm, +Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile +Have buried them for prey! + +MARK ANTONY +I am satisfied. +Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where +I will oppose his fate. Our force by land +Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too +Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like. +Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady? +If from the field I shall return once more +To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood; +I and my sword will earn our chronicle: +There's hope in't yet. + +CLEOPATRA +That's my brave lord! + +MARK ANTONY +I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed, +And fight maliciously: for when mine hours +Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives +Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth, +And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, +Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me +All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; +Let's mock the midnight bell. + +CLEOPATRA +It is my birth-day: +I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord +Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. + +MARK ANTONY +We will yet do well. + +CLEOPATRA +Call all his noble captains to my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force +The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; +There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, +I'll make death love me; for I will contend +Even with his pestilent scythe. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious, +Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood +The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, +A diminution in our captain's brain +Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason, +It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek +Some way to leave him. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power +To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger +He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, +Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know +I have many other ways to die; meantime +Laugh at his challenge. + +MECAENAS +Caesar must think, +When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted +Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now +Make boot of his distraction: never anger +Made good guard for itself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let our best heads +Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles +We mean to fight: within our files there are, +Of those that served Mark Antony but late, +Enough to fetch him in. See it done: +And feast the army; we have store to do't, +And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others +MARK ANTONY +He will not fight with me, Domitius. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No. + +MARK ANTONY +Why should he not? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, +He is twenty men to one. + +MARK ANTONY +To-morrow, soldier, +By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live, +Or bathe my dying honour in the blood +Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.' + +MARK ANTONY +Well said; come on. +Call forth my household servants: let's to-night +Be bounteous at our meal. + +Enter three or four Servitors + +Give me thy hand, +Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;-- +Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well, +And kings have been your fellows. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What means this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd +tricks which sorrow shoots +Out of the mind. + +MARK ANTONY +And thou art honest too. +I wish I could be made so many men, +And all of you clapp'd up together in +An Antony, that I might do you service +So good as you have done. + +All +The gods forbid! + +MARK ANTONY +Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: +Scant not my cups; and make as much of me +As when mine empire was your fellow too, +And suffer'd my command. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What does he mean? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep. + +MARK ANTONY +Tend me to-night; +May be it is the period of your duty: +Haply you shall not see me more; or if, +A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow +You'll serve another master. I look on you +As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, +I turn you not away; but, like a master +Married to your good service, stay till death: +Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, +And the gods yield you for't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What mean you, sir, +To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; +And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, +Transform us not to women. + +MARK ANTONY +Ho, ho, ho! +Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! +Grace grow where those drops fall! +My hearty friends, +You take me in too dolorous a sense; +For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you +To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, +I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you +Where rather I'll expect victorious life +Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come, +And drown consideration. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the palace. + +Enter two Soldiers to their guard +First Soldier +Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day. + +Second Soldier +It will determine one way: fare you well. +Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? + +First Soldier +Nothing. What news? + +Second Soldier +Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you. + +First Soldier +Well, sir, good night. + +Enter two other Soldiers + +Second Soldier +Soldiers, have careful watch. + +Third Soldier +And you. Good night, good night. + +They place themselves in every corner of the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Here we: and if to-morrow +Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope +Our landmen will stand up. + +Third Soldier +'Tis a brave army, +And full of purpose. + +Music of the hautboys as under the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Peace! what noise? + +First Soldier +List, list! + +Second Soldier +Hark! + +First Soldier +Music i' the air. + +Third Soldier +Under the earth. + +Fourth Soldier +It signs well, does it not? + +Third Soldier +No. + +First Soldier +Peace, I say! +What should this mean? + +Second Soldier +'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, +Now leaves him. + +First Soldier +Walk; let's see if other watchmen +Do hear what we do? + +They advance to another post + +Second Soldier +How now, masters! + +All +[Speaking together] How now! +How now! do you hear this? + +First Soldier +Ay; is't not strange? + +Third Soldier +Do you hear, masters? do you hear? + +First Soldier +Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; +Let's see how it will give off. + +All +Content. 'Tis strange. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A room in the palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and others attending +MARK ANTONY +Eros! mine armour, Eros! + +CLEOPATRA +Sleep a little. + +MARK ANTONY +No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros! + +Enter EROS with armour + +Come good fellow, put mine iron on: +If fortune be not ours to-day, it is +Because we brave her: come. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, I'll help too. +What's this for? + +MARK ANTONY +Ah, let be, let be! thou art +The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this. + +CLEOPATRA +Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well; +We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow? +Go put on thy defences. + +EROS +Briefly, sir. + +CLEOPATRA +Is not this buckled well? + +MARK ANTONY +Rarely, rarely: +He that unbuckles this, till we do please +To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm. +Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire +More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love, +That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st +The royal occupation! thou shouldst see +A workman in't. + +Enter an armed Soldier + +Good morrow to thee; welcome: +Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge: +To business that we love we rise betime, +And go to't with delight. + +Soldier +A thousand, sir, +Early though't be, have on their riveted trim, +And at the port expect you. + +Shout. Trumpets flourish + +Enter Captains and Soldiers + +Captain +The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. + +All +Good morrow, general. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis well blown, lads: +This morning, like the spirit of a youth +That means to be of note, begins betimes. +So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said. +Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me: +This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable + +Kisses her + +And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand +On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee +Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight, +Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers + +CHARMIAN +Please you, retire to your chamber. + +CLEOPATRA +Lead me. +He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might +Determine this great war in single fight! +Then Antony,--but now--Well, on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a Soldier meeting them +Soldier +The gods make this a happy day to Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd +To make me fight at land! + +Soldier +Hadst thou done so, +The kings that have revolted, and the soldier +That has this morning left thee, would have still +Follow'd thy heels. + +MARK ANTONY +Who's gone this morning? + +Soldier +Who! +One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus, +He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp +Say 'I am none of thine.' + +MARK ANTONY +What say'st thou? + +Soldier +Sir, +He is with Caesar. + +EROS +Sir, his chests and treasure +He has not with him. + +MARK ANTONY +Is he gone? + +Soldier +Most certain. + +MARK ANTONY +Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; +Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him-- +I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings; +Say that I wish he never find more cause +To change a master. O, my fortunes have +Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight: +Our will is Antony be took alive; +Make it so known. + +AGRIPPA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The time of universal peace is near: +Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world +Shall bear the olive freely. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Antony +Is come into the field. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go charge Agrippa +Plant those that have revolted in the van, +That Antony may seem to spend his fury +Upon himself. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on +Affairs of Antony; there did persuade +Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, +And leave his master Antony: for this pains +Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest +That fell away have entertainment, but +No honourable trust. I have done ill; +Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, +That I will joy no more. + +Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's + +Soldier +Enobarbus, Antony +Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with +His bounty overplus: the messenger +Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now +Unloading of his mules. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I give it you. + +Soldier +Mock not, Enobarbus. +I tell you true: best you safed the bringer +Out of the host; I must attend mine office, +Or would have done't myself. Your emperor +Continues still a Jove. + +Exit + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I am alone the villain of the earth, +And feel I am so most. O Antony, +Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid +My better service, when my turpitude +Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart: +If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean +Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel. +I fight against thee! No: I will go seek +Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits +My latter part of life. + +Exit + +SCENE VII. Field of battle between the camps. + +Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA and others +AGRIPPA +Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: +Caesar himself has work, and our oppression +Exceeds what we expected. + +Exeunt + +Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded + +SCARUS +O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! +Had we done so at first, we had droven them home +With clouts about their heads. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou bleed'st apace. + +SCARUS +I had a wound here that was like a T, +But now 'tis made an H. + +MARK ANTONY +They do retire. + +SCARUS +We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet +Room for six scotches more. + +Enter EROS + +EROS +They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves +For a fair victory. + +SCARUS +Let us score their backs, +And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: +'Tis sport to maul a runner. + +MARK ANTONY +I will reward thee +Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold +For thy good valour. Come thee on. + +SCARUS +I'll halt after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. Under the walls of Alexandria. + +Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS, with others +MARK ANTONY +We have beat him to his camp: run one before, +And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, +Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood +That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; +For doughty-handed are you, and have fought +Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been +Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors. +Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, +Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears +Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss +The honour'd gashes whole. + +To SCARUS + +Give me thy hand + +Enter CLEOPATRA, attended + +To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, +Make her thanks bless thee. + +To CLEOPATRA + +O thou day o' the world, +Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, +Through proof of harness to my heart, and there +Ride on the pants triumphing! + +CLEOPATRA +Lord of lords! +O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from +The world's great snare uncaught? + +MARK ANTONY +My nightingale, +We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! +though grey +Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we +A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can +Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; +Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: +Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day +As if a god, in hate of mankind, had +Destroy'd in such a shape. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll give thee, friend, +An armour all of gold; it was a king's. + +MARK ANTONY +He has deserved it, were it carbuncled +Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand: +Through Alexandria make a jolly march; +Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: +Had our great palace the capacity +To camp this host, we all would sup together, +And drink carouses to the next day's fate, +Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, +With brazen din blast you the city's ear; +Make mingle with rattling tabourines; +That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, +Applauding our approach. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Sentinels at their post +First Soldier +If we be not relieved within this hour, +We must return to the court of guard: the night +Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle +By the second hour i' the morn. + +Second Soldier +This last day was +A shrewd one to's. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, bear me witness, night,-- + +Third Soldier +What man is this? + +Second Soldier +Stand close, and list him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, +When men revolted shall upon record +Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did +Before thy face repent! + +First Soldier +Enobarbus! + +Third Soldier +Peace! +Hark further. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, +The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, +That life, a very rebel to my will, +May hang no longer on me: throw my heart +Against the flint and hardness of my fault: +Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, +And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, +Nobler than my revolt is infamous, +Forgive me in thine own particular; +But let the world rank me in register +A master-leaver and a fugitive: +O Antony! O Antony! + +Dies + +Second Soldier +Let's speak To him. + +First Soldier +Let's hear him, for the things he speaks +May concern Caesar. + +Third Soldier +Let's do so. But he sleeps. + +First Soldier +Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his +Was never yet for sleep. + +Second Soldier +Go we to him. + +Third Soldier +Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. + +Second Soldier +Hear you, sir? + +First Soldier +The hand of death hath raught him. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! the drums +Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him +To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour +Is fully out. + +Third Soldier +Come on, then; +He may recover yet. + +Exeunt with the body + +SCENE X. Between the two camps. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army +MARK ANTONY +Their preparation is to-day by sea; +We please them not by land. + +SCARUS +For both, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air; +We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot +Upon the hills adjoining to the city +Shall stay with us: order for sea is given; +They have put forth the haven +Where their appointment we may best discover, +And look on their endeavour. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Another part of the same. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +But being charged, we will be still by land, +Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force +Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, +And hold our best advantage. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Another part of the same. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS +MARK ANTONY +Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine +does stand, +I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word +Straight, how 'tis like to go. + +Exit + +SCARUS +Swallows have built +In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers +Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, +And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony +Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts, +His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear, +Of what he has, and has not. + +Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +All is lost; +This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me: +My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder +They cast their caps up and carouse together +Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! +'tis thou +Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart +Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly; +For when I am revenged upon my charm, +I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. + +Exit SCARUS + +O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more: +Fortune and Antony part here; even here +Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts +That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave +Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets +On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd, +That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am: +O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,-- +Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home; +Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,-- +Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, +Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. +What, Eros, Eros! + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! + +CLEOPATRA +Why is my lord enraged against his love? + +MARK ANTONY +Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, +And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, +And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians: +Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot +Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown +For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let +Patient Octavia plough thy visage up +With her prepared nails. + +Exit CLEOPATRA + +'Tis well thou'rt gone, +If it be well to live; but better 'twere +Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death +Might have prevented many. Eros, ho! +The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me, +Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: +Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon; +And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club, +Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die: +To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall +Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho! + +Exit + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Help me, my women! O, he is more mad +Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly +Was never so emboss'd. + +CHARMIAN +To the monument! +There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. +The soul and body rive not more in parting +Than greatness going off. + +CLEOPATRA +To the monument! +Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; +Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,' +And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian, +And bring me how he takes my death. +To the monument! + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIV. The same. Another room. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS +MARK ANTONY +Eros, thou yet behold'st me? + +EROS +Ay, noble lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; +A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, +A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, +A forked mountain, or blue promontory +With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, +And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen +these signs; +They are black vesper's pageants. + +EROS +Ay, my lord, + +MARK ANTONY +That which is now a horse, even with a thought +The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, +As water is in water. + +EROS +It does, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +My good knave Eros, now thy captain is +Even such a body: here I am Antony: +Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. +I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,-- +Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; +Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't +A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has +Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory +Unto an enemy's triumph. +Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us +Ourselves to end ourselves. + +Enter MARDIAN + +O! thy vile lady! +She has robb'd me of my sword. + +MARDIAN +No, Antony; +My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled +With thine entirely. + +MARK ANTONY +Hence, saucy eunuch; peace! +She hath betray'd me and shall die the death. + +MARDIAN +Death of one person can be paid but once, +And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do +Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake +Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!' +Then in the midst a tearing groan did break +The name of Antony; it was divided +Between her heart and lips: she render'd life, +Thy name so buried in her. + +MARK ANTONY +Dead, then? + +MARDIAN +Dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, +And we must sleep. + +To MARDIAN + +That thou depart'st hence safe, +Does pay thy labour richly; go. + +Exit MARDIAN + +Off, pluck off: +The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep +The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! +Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, +Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace. +No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; +You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. + +Exit EROS + +I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and +Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now +All length is torture: since the torch is out, +Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour +Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles +Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done. +Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me: +Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, +And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: +Dido and her AEneas shall want troops, +And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros! + +Re-enter EROS + +EROS +What would my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +Since Cleopatra died, +I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods +Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword +Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back +With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack +The courage of a woman; less noble mind +Than she which by her death our Caesar tells +'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros, +That, when the exigent should come, which now +Is come indeed, when I should see behind me +The inevitable prosecution of +Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, +Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come: +Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. +Put colour in thy cheek. + +EROS +The gods withhold me! +Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, +Though enemy, lost aim, and could not? + +MARK ANTONY +Eros, +Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see +Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down +His corrigible neck, his face subdued +To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat +Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded +His baseness that ensued? + +EROS +I would not see't. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. +Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn +Most useful for thy country. + +EROS +O, sir, pardon me! + +MARK ANTONY +When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then +To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once; +Or thy precedent services are all +But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. + +EROS +Turn from me, then, that noble countenance, +Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. + +MARK ANTONY +Lo thee! + +Turning from him + +EROS +My sword is drawn. + +MARK ANTONY +Then let it do at once +The thing why thou hast drawn it. + +EROS +My dear master, +My captain, and my emperor, let me say, +Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis said, man; and farewell. + +EROS +Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? + +MARK ANTONY +Now, Eros. + +EROS +Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow +Of Antony's death. + +Kills himself + +MARK ANTONY +Thrice-nobler than myself! +Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what +I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros +Have by their brave instruction got upon me +A nobleness in record: but I will be +A bridegroom in my death, and run into't +As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, +Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus + +Falling on his sword + +I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? +The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! + +Enter DERCETAS and Guard + +First Guard +What's the noise? + +MARK ANTONY +I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end +Of what I have begun. + +Second Guard +The star is fall'n. + +First Guard +And time is at his period. + +All +Alas, and woe! + +MARK ANTONY +Let him that loves me strike me dead. + +First Guard +Not I. + +Second Guard +Nor I. + +Third Guard +Nor any one. + +Exeunt Guard + +DERCETAS +Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. +This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, +Shall enter me with him. + +Enter DIOMEDES + +DIOMEDES +Where's Antony? + +DERCETAS +There, Diomed there. + +DIOMEDES +Lives he? +Wilt thou not answer, man? + +Exit DERCETAS + +MARK ANTONY +Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me +Sufficing strokes for death. + +DIOMEDES +Most absolute lord, +My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. + +MARK ANTONY +When did she send thee? + +DIOMEDES +Now, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Where is she? + +DIOMEDES +Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear +Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw-- +Which never shall be found--you did suspect +She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage +Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead; +But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent +Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, +I dread, too late. + +MARK ANTONY +Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. + +DIOMEDES +What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! +Come, your lord calls! + +Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; +'Tis the last service that I shall command you. + +First Guard +Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear +All your true followers out. + +All +Most heavy day! + +MARK ANTONY +Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate +To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome +Which comes to punish us, and we punish it +Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: +I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends, +And have my thanks for all. + +Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY + +SCENE XV. The same. A monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, I will never go from hence. + +CHARMIAN +Be comforted, dear madam. + +CLEOPATRA +No, I will not: +All strange and terrible events are welcome, +But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, +Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great +As that which makes it. + +Enter, below, DIOMEDES + +How now! is he dead? + +DIOMEDES +His death's upon him, but not dead. +Look out o' the other side your monument; +His guard have brought him thither. + +Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard + +CLEOPATRA +O sun, +Burn the great sphere thou movest in! +darkling stand +The varying shore o' the world. O Antony, +Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; +Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. + +MARK ANTONY +Peace! +Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, +But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. + +CLEOPATRA +So it should be, that none but Antony +Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying; only +I here importune death awhile, until +Of many thousand kisses the poor last +I lay up thy lips. + +CLEOPATRA +I dare not, dear,-- +Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not, +Lest I be taken: not the imperious show +Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall +Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, +serpents, have +Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: +Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes +And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour +Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,-- +Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up: +Assist, good friends. + +MARK ANTONY +O, quick, or I am gone. + +CLEOPATRA +Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! +Our strength is all gone into heaviness, +That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, +The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, +And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,-- +Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come; + +They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA + +And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: +Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, +Thus would I wear them out. + +All +A heavy sight! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying: +Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. + +CLEOPATRA +No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, +That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, +Provoked by my offence. + +MARK ANTONY +One word, sweet queen: +Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! + +CLEOPATRA +They do not go together. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle, hear me: +None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +My resolution and my hands I'll trust; +None about Caesar. + +MARK ANTONY +The miserable change now at my end +Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts +In feeding them with those my former fortunes +Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world, +The noblest; and do now not basely die, +Not cowardly put off my helmet to +My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman +Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; +I can no more. + +CLEOPATRA +Noblest of men, woo't die? +Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide +In this dull world, which in thy absence is +No better than a sty? O, see, my women, + +MARK ANTONY dies + +The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord! +O, wither'd is the garland of the war, +The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls +Are level now with men; the odds is gone, +And there is nothing left remarkable +Beneath the visiting moon. + +Faints + +CHARMIAN +O, quietness, lady! + +IRAS +She is dead too, our sovereign. + +CHARMIAN +Lady! + +IRAS +Madam! + +CHARMIAN +O madam, madam, madam! + +IRAS +Royal Egypt, Empress! + +CHARMIAN +Peace, peace, Iras! + +CLEOPATRA +No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded +By such poor passion as the maid that milks +And does the meanest chares. It were for me +To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; +To tell them that this world did equal theirs +Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; +Patience is scottish, and impatience does +Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin +To rush into the secret house of death, +Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? +What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! +My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, +Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart: +We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, +what's noble, +Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, +And make death proud to take us. Come, away: +This case of that huge spirit now is cold: +Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend +But resolution, and the briefest end. + +Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; +Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks +The pauses that he makes. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest +Appear thus to us? + +DERCETAS +I am call'd Dercetas; +Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy +Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, +He was my master; and I wore my life +To spend upon his haters. If thou please +To take me to thee, as I was to him +I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, +I yield thee up my life. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What is't thou say'st? + +DERCETAS +I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The breaking of so great a thing should make +A greater crack: the round world +Should have shook lions into civil streets, +And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony +Is not a single doom; in the name lay +A moiety of the world. + +DERCETAS +He is dead, Caesar: +Not by a public minister of justice, +Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, +Which writ his honour in the acts it did, +Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, +Splitted the heart. This is his sword; +I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd +With his most noble blood. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Look you sad, friends? +The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings +To wash the eyes of kings. + +AGRIPPA +And strange it is, +That nature must compel us to lament +Our most persisted deeds. + +MECAENAS +His taints and honours +Waged equal with him. + +AGRIPPA +A rarer spirit never +Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us +Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd. + +MECAENAS +When such a spacious mirror's set before him, +He needs must see himself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O Antony! +I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance +Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce +Have shown to thee such a declining day, +Or look on thine; we could not stall together +In the whole world: but yet let me lament, +With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, +That thou, my brother, my competitor +In top of all design, my mate in empire, +Friend and companion in the front of war, +The arm of mine own body, and the heart +Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars, +Unreconciliable, should divide +Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- +But I will tell you at some meeter season: + +Enter an Egyptian + +The business of this man looks out of him; +We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? + +Egyptian +A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, +Confined in all she has, her monument, +Of thy intents desires instruction, +That she preparedly may frame herself +To the way she's forced to. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bid her have good heart: +She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, +How honourable and how kindly we +Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live +To be ungentle. + +Egyptian +So the gods preserve thee! + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, +We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts +The quality of her passion shall require, +Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke +She do defeat us; for her life in Rome +Would be eternal in our triumph: go, +And with your speediest bring us what she says, +And how you find of her. + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Gallus, go you along. + +Exit GALLUS + +Where's Dolabella, +To second Proculeius? + +All +Dolabella! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him alone, for I remember now +How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready. +Go with me to my tent; where you shall see +How hardly I was drawn into this war; +How calm and gentle I proceeded still +In all my writings: go with me, and see +What I can show in this. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. A room in the monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +My desolation does begin to make +A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; +Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, +A minister of her will: and it is great +To do that thing that ends all other deeds; +Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; +Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, +The beggar's nurse and Caesar's. + +Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS and Soldiers + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; +And bids thee study on what fair demands +Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. + +CLEOPATRA +What's thy name? + +PROCULEIUS +My name is Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +Antony +Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but +I do not greatly care to be deceived, +That have no use for trusting. If your master +Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, +That majesty, to keep decorum, must +No less beg than a kingdom: if he please +To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son, +He gives me so much of mine own, as I +Will kneel to him with thanks. + +PROCULEIUS +Be of good cheer; +You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing: +Make your full reference freely to my lord, +Who is so full of grace, that it flows over +On all that need: let me report to him +Your sweet dependency; and you shall find +A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, +Where he for grace is kneel'd to. + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, tell him +I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him +The greatness he has got. I hourly learn +A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly +Look him i' the face. + +PROCULEIUS +This I'll report, dear lady. +Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied +Of him that caused it. + +GALLUS +You see how easily she may be surprised: + +Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates + +To PROCULEIUS and the Guard + +Guard her till Caesar come. + +Exit + +IRAS +Royal queen! + +CHARMIAN +O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen: + +CLEOPATRA +Quick, quick, good hands. + +Drawing a dagger + +PROCULEIUS +Hold, worthy lady, hold: + +Seizes and disarms her + +Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this +Relieved, but not betray'd. + +CLEOPATRA +What, of death too, +That rids our dogs of languish? + +PROCULEIUS +Cleopatra, +Do not abuse my master's bounty by +The undoing of yourself: let the world see +His nobleness well acted, which your death +Will never let come forth. + +CLEOPATRA +Where art thou, death? +Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen +Worthy many babes and beggars! + +PROCULEIUS +O, temperance, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; +If idle talk will once be necessary, +I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, +Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I +Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; +Nor once be chastised with the sober eye +Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up +And show me to the shouting varletry +Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt +Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud +Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies +Blow me into abhorring! rather make +My country's high pyramides my gibbet, +And hang me up in chains! + +PROCULEIUS +You do extend +These thoughts of horror further than you shall +Find cause in Caesar. + +Enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Proculeius, +What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, +And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, +I'll take her to my guard. + +PROCULEIUS +So, Dolabella, +It shall content me best: be gentle to her. + +To CLEOPATRA + +To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, +If you'll employ me to him. + +CLEOPATRA +Say, I would die. + +Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers + +DOLABELLA +Most noble empress, you have heard of me? + +CLEOPATRA +I cannot tell. + +DOLABELLA +Assuredly you know me. + +CLEOPATRA +No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. +You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; +Is't not your trick? + +DOLABELLA +I understand not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: +O, such another sleep, that I might see +But such another man! + +DOLABELLA +If it might please ye,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck +A sun and moon, which kept their course, +and lighted +The little O, the earth. + +DOLABELLA +Most sovereign creature,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm +Crested the world: his voice was propertied +As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; +But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, +He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, +There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas +That grew the more by reaping: his delights +Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above +The element they lived in: in his livery +Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were +As plates dropp'd from his pocket. + +DOLABELLA +Cleopatra! + +CLEOPATRA +Think you there was, or might be, such a man +As this I dream'd of? + +DOLABELLA +Gentle madam, no. + +CLEOPATRA +You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. +But, if there be, or ever were, one such, +It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff +To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine +And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, +Condemning shadows quite. + +DOLABELLA +Hear me, good madam. +Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it +As answering to the weight: would I might never +O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, +By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites +My very heart at root. + +CLEOPATRA +I thank you, sir, +Know you what Caesar means to do with me? + +DOLABELLA +I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, sir,-- + +DOLABELLA +Though he be honourable,-- + +CLEOPATRA +He'll lead me, then, in triumph? + +DOLABELLA +Madam, he will; I know't. + +Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there: Octavius Caesar!' + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which is the Queen of Egypt? + +DOLABELLA +It is the emperor, madam. + +CLEOPATRA kneels + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Arise, you shall not kneel: +I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, the gods +Will have it thus; my master and my lord +I must obey. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take to you no hard thoughts: +The record of what injuries you did us, +Though written in our flesh, we shall remember +As things but done by chance. + +CLEOPATRA +Sole sir o' the world, +I cannot project mine own cause so well +To make it clear; but do confess I have +Been laden with like frailties which before +Have often shamed our sex. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, know, +We will extenuate rather than enforce: +If you apply yourself to our intents, +Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find +A benefit in this change; but if you seek +To lay on me a cruelty, by taking +Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself +Of my good purposes, and put your children +To that destruction which I'll guard them from, +If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. + +CLEOPATRA +And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, +Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall +Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. + +CLEOPATRA +This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, +I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; +Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? + +SELEUCUS +Here, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, +Upon his peril, that I have reserved +To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. + +SELEUCUS +Madam, +I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, +Speak that which is not. + +CLEOPATRA +What have I kept back? + +SELEUCUS +Enough to purchase what you have made known. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve +Your wisdom in the deed. + +CLEOPATRA +See, Caesar! O, behold, +How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours; +And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. +The ingratitude of this Seleucus does +Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust +Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt +Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, +Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! +O rarely base! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good queen, let us entreat you. + +CLEOPATRA +O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, +That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, +Doing the honour of thy lordliness +To one so meek, that mine own servant should +Parcel the sum of my disgraces by +Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, +That I some lady trifles have reserved, +Immoment toys, things of such dignity +As we greet modern friends withal; and say, +Some nobler token I have kept apart +For Livia and Octavia, to induce +Their mediation; must I be unfolded +With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me +Beneath the fall I have. + +To SELEUCUS + +Prithee, go hence; +Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits +Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, +Thou wouldst have mercy on me. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Forbear, Seleucus. + +Exit SELEUCUS + +CLEOPATRA +Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought +For things that others do; and, when we fall, +We answer others' merits in our name, +Are therefore to be pitied. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, +Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, +Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours, +Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, +Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you +Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; +Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; +For we intend so to dispose you as +Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: +Our care and pity is so much upon you, +That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. + +CLEOPATRA +My master, and my lord! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not so. Adieu. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train + +CLEOPATRA +He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not +Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. + +Whispers CHARMIAN + +IRAS +Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, +And we are for the dark. + +CLEOPATRA +Hie thee again: +I have spoke already, and it is provided; +Go put it to the haste. + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I will. + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Behold, sir. + +Exit + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella! + +DOLABELLA +Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, +Which my love makes religion to obey, +I tell you this: Caesar through Syria +Intends his journey; and within three days +You with your children will he send before: +Make your best use of this: I have perform'd +Your pleasure and my promise. + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella, +I shall remain your debtor. + +DOLABELLA +I your servant, +Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell, and thanks. + +Exit DOLABELLA + +Now, Iras, what think'st thou? +Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown +In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves +With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall +Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, +Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, +And forced to drink their vapour. + +IRAS +The gods forbid! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors +Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers +Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians +Extemporally will stage us, and present +Our Alexandrian revels; Antony +Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see +Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness +I' the posture of a whore. + +IRAS +O the good gods! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, that's certain. + +IRAS +I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails +Are stronger than mine eyes. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, that's the way +To fool their preparation, and to conquer +Their most absurd intents. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN + +Now, Charmian! +Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch +My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, +To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. +Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed; +And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave +To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. +Wherefore's this noise? + +Exit IRAS. A noise within + +Enter a Guardsman + +Guard +Here is a rural fellow +That will not be denied your highness presence: +He brings you figs. + +CLEOPATRA +Let him come in. + +Exit Guardsman + +What poor an instrument +May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. +My resolution's placed, and I have nothing +Of woman in me: now from head to foot +I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon +No planet is of mine. + +Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket + +Guard +This is the man. + +CLEOPATRA +Avoid, and leave him. + +Exit Guardsman + +Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, +That kills and pains not? + +Clown +Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party +that should desire you to touch him, for his biting +is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or +never recover. + +CLEOPATRA +Rememberest thou any that have died on't? + +Clown +Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of +them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, +but something given to lie; as a woman should not +do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the +biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes +a very good report o' the worm; but he that will +believe all that they say, shall never be saved by +half that they do: but this is most fallible, the +worm's an odd worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Get thee hence; farewell. + +Clown +I wish you all joy of the worm. + +Setting down his basket + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell. + +Clown +You must think this, look you, that the worm will +do his kind. + +CLEOPATRA +Ay, ay; farewell. + +Clown +Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the +keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no +goodness in worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. + +Clown +Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is +not worth the feeding. + +CLEOPATRA +Will it eat me? + +Clown +You must not think I am so simple but I know the +devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a +woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her +not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the +gods great harm in their women; for in every ten +that they make, the devils mar five. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, get thee gone; farewell. + +Clown +Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm. + +Exit + +Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, & c + +CLEOPATRA +Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have +Immortal longings in me: now no more +The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: +Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear +Antony call; I see him rouse himself +To praise my noble act; I hear him mock +The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men +To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: +Now to that name my courage prove my title! +I am fire and air; my other elements +I give to baser life. So; have you done? +Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. +Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. + +Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies + +Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? +If thou and nature can so gently part, +The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, +Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? +If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world +It is not worth leave-taking. + +CHARMIAN +Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, +The gods themselves do weep! + +CLEOPATRA +This proves me base: +If she first meet the curled Antony, +He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss +Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou +mortal wretch, + +To an asp, which she applies to her breast + +With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate +Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool +Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, +That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass +Unpolicied! + +CHARMIAN +O eastern star! + +CLEOPATRA +Peace, peace! +Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, +That sucks the nurse asleep? + +CHARMIAN +O, break! O, break! + +CLEOPATRA +As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- +O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too. + +Applying another asp to her arm + +What should I stay-- + +Dies + +CHARMIAN +In this vile world? So, fare thee well. +Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies +A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; +And golden Phoebus never be beheld +Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; +I'll mend it, and then play. + +Enter the Guard, rushing in + +First Guard +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Speak softly, wake her not. + +First Guard +Caesar hath sent-- + +CHARMIAN +Too slow a messenger. + +Applies an asp + +O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. + +First Guard +Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled. + +Second Guard +There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him. + +First Guard +What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? + +CHARMIAN +It is well done, and fitting for a princess +Descended of so many royal kings. +Ah, soldier! + +Dies + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +How goes it here? + +Second Guard +All dead. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, thy thoughts +Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming +To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou +So sought'st to hinder. + +Within 'A way there, a way for Caesar!' + +Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching + +DOLABELLA +O sir, you are too sure an augurer; +That you did fear is done. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bravest at the last, +She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, +Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? +I do not see them bleed. + +DOLABELLA +Who was last with them? + +First Guard +A simple countryman, that brought her figs: +This was his basket. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Poison'd, then. + +First Guard +O Caesar, +This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake: +I found her trimming up the diadem +On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood +And on the sudden dropp'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O noble weakness! +If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear +By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, +As she would catch another Antony +In her strong toil of grace. + +DOLABELLA +Here, on her breast, +There is a vent of blood and something blown: +The like is on her arm. + +First Guard +This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves +Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves +Upon the caves of Nile. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most probable +That so she died; for her physician tells me +She hath pursued conclusions infinite +Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed; +And bear her women from the monument: +She shall be buried by her Antony: +No grave upon the earth shall clip in it +A pair so famous. High events as these +Strike those that make them; and their story is +No less in pity than his glory which +Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall +In solemn show attend this funeral; +And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see +High order in this great solemnity. + +Exeunt +The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark +Shakespeare homepage | Hamlet | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. + +FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO +BERNARDO +Who's there? + +FRANCISCO +Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. + +BERNARDO +Long live the king! + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo? + +BERNARDO +He. + +FRANCISCO +You come most carefully upon your hour. + +BERNARDO +'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. + +FRANCISCO +For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, +And I am sick at heart. + +BERNARDO +Have you had quiet guard? + +FRANCISCO +Not a mouse stirring. + +BERNARDO +Well, good night. +If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, +The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. + +FRANCISCO +I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there? + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +HORATIO +Friends to this ground. + +MARCELLUS +And liegemen to the Dane. + +FRANCISCO +Give you good night. + +MARCELLUS +O, farewell, honest soldier: +Who hath relieved you? + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo has my place. +Give you good night. + +Exit + +MARCELLUS +Holla! Bernardo! + +BERNARDO +Say, +What, is Horatio there? + +HORATIO +A piece of him. + +BERNARDO +Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? + +BERNARDO +I have seen nothing. + +MARCELLUS +Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, +And will not let belief take hold of him +Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: +Therefore I have entreated him along +With us to watch the minutes of this night; +That if again this apparition come, +He may approve our eyes and speak to it. + +HORATIO +Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. + +BERNARDO +Sit down awhile; +And let us once again assail your ears, +That are so fortified against our story +What we have two nights seen. + +HORATIO +Well, sit we down, +And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. + +BERNARDO +Last night of all, +When yond same star that's westward from the pole +Had made his course to illume that part of heaven +Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, +The bell then beating one,-- + +Enter Ghost + +MARCELLUS +Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! + +BERNARDO +In the same figure, like the king that's dead. + +MARCELLUS +Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. + +BERNARDO +Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder. + +BERNARDO +It would be spoke to. + +MARCELLUS +Question it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, +Together with that fair and warlike form +In which the majesty of buried Denmark +Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak! + +MARCELLUS +It is offended. + +BERNARDO +See, it stalks away! + +HORATIO +Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! + +Exit Ghost + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone, and will not answer. + +BERNARDO +How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: +Is not this something more than fantasy? +What think you on't? + +HORATIO +Before my God, I might not this believe +Without the sensible and true avouch +Of mine own eyes. + +MARCELLUS +Is it not like the king? + +HORATIO +As thou art to thyself: +Such was the very armour he had on +When he the ambitious Norway combated; +So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, +He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. +'Tis strange. + +MARCELLUS +Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, +With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. + +HORATIO +In what particular thought to work I know not; +But in the gross and scope of my opinion, +This bodes some strange eruption to our state. + +MARCELLUS +Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, +Why this same strict and most observant watch +So nightly toils the subject of the land, +And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, +And foreign mart for implements of war; +Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task +Does not divide the Sunday from the week; +What might be toward, that this sweaty haste +Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: +Who is't that can inform me? + +HORATIO +That can I; +At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, +Whose image even but now appear'd to us, +Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, +Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride, +Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet-- +For so this side of our known world esteem'd him-- +Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact, +Well ratified by law and heraldry, +Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands +Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: +Against the which, a moiety competent +Was gaged by our king; which had return'd +To the inheritance of Fortinbras, +Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant, +And carriage of the article design'd, +His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, +Of unimproved mettle hot and full, +Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there +Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes, +For food and diet, to some enterprise +That hath a stomach in't; which is no other-- +As it doth well appear unto our state-- +But to recover of us, by strong hand +And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands +So by his father lost: and this, I take it, +Is the main motive of our preparations, +The source of this our watch and the chief head +Of this post-haste and romage in the land. + +BERNARDO +I think it be no other but e'en so: +Well may it sort that this portentous figure +Comes armed through our watch; so like the king +That was and is the question of these wars. + +HORATIO +A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. +In the most high and palmy state of Rome, +A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, +The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead +Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: +As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, +Disasters in the sun; and the moist star +Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands +Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: +And even the like precurse of fierce events, +As harbingers preceding still the fates +And prologue to the omen coming on, +Have heaven and earth together demonstrated +Unto our climatures and countrymen.-- +But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! + +Re-enter Ghost + +I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion! +If thou hast any sound, or use of voice, +Speak to me: +If there be any good thing to be done, +That may to thee do ease and grace to me, +Speak to me: + +Cock crows + +If thou art privy to thy country's fate, +Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! +Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life +Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, +For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, +Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +Shall I strike at it with my partisan? + +HORATIO +Do, if it will not stand. + +BERNARDO +'Tis here! + +HORATIO +'Tis here! + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone! + +Exit Ghost + +We do it wrong, being so majestical, +To offer it the show of violence; +For it is, as the air, invulnerable, +And our vain blows malicious mockery. + +BERNARDO +It was about to speak, when the cock crew. + +HORATIO +And then it started like a guilty thing +Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, +The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, +Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat +Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, +Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, +The extravagant and erring spirit hies +To his confine: and of the truth herein +This present object made probation. + +MARCELLUS +It faded on the crowing of the cock. +Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes +Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, +The bird of dawning singeth all night long: +And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; +The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, +No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, +So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. + +HORATIO +So have I heard and do in part believe it. +But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, +Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill: +Break we our watch up; and by my advice, +Let us impart what we have seen to-night +Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, +This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. +Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, +As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? + +MARCELLUS +Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know +Where we shall find him most conveniently. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room of state in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death +The memory be green, and that it us befitted +To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom +To be contracted in one brow of woe, +Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature +That we with wisest sorrow think on him, +Together with remembrance of ourselves. +Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, +The imperial jointress to this warlike state, +Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-- +With an auspicious and a dropping eye, +With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, +In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-- +Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd +Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone +With this affair along. For all, our thanks. +Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, +Holding a weak supposal of our worth, +Or thinking by our late dear brother's death +Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, +Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, +He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, +Importing the surrender of those lands +Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, +To our most valiant brother. So much for him. +Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: +Thus much the business is: we have here writ +To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-- +Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears +Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress +His further gait herein; in that the levies, +The lists and full proportions, are all made +Out of his subject: and we here dispatch +You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, +For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; +Giving to you no further personal power +To business with the king, more than the scope +Of these delated articles allow. +Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. + +CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND +In that and all things will we show our duty. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? +You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? +You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, +And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, +That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? +The head is not more native to the heart, +The hand more instrumental to the mouth, +Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. +What wouldst thou have, Laertes? + +LAERTES +My dread lord, +Your leave and favour to return to France; +From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, +To show my duty in your coronation, +Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, +My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France +And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? + +LORD POLONIUS +He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave +By laboursome petition, and at last +Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: +I do beseech you, give him leave to go. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, +And thy best graces spend it at thy will! +But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-- + +HAMLET +[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How is it that the clouds still hang on you? + +HAMLET +Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, +And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. +Do not for ever with thy vailed lids +Seek for thy noble father in the dust: +Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, +Passing through nature to eternity. + +HAMLET +Ay, madam, it is common. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +If it be, +Why seems it so particular with thee? + +HAMLET +Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.' +'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, +Nor customary suits of solemn black, +Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, +No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, +Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, +Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, +That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, +For they are actions that a man might play: +But I have that within which passeth show; +These but the trappings and the suits of woe. + +KING CLAUDIUS +'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, +To give these mourning duties to your father: +But, you must know, your father lost a father; +That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound +In filial obligation for some term +To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever +In obstinate condolement is a course +Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief; +It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, +A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, +An understanding simple and unschool'd: +For what we know must be and is as common +As any the most vulgar thing to sense, +Why should we in our peevish opposition +Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, +A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, +To reason most absurd: whose common theme +Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, +From the first corse till he that died to-day, +'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth +This unprevailing woe, and think of us +As of a father: for let the world take note, +You are the most immediate to our throne; +And with no less nobility of love +Than that which dearest father bears his son, +Do I impart toward you. For your intent +In going back to school in Wittenberg, +It is most retrograde to our desire: +And we beseech you, bend you to remain +Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, +Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: +I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. + +HAMLET +I shall in all my best obey you, madam. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply: +Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; +This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet +Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, +No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, +But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, +And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again, +Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +HAMLET +O, that this too too solid flesh would melt +Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! +Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd +His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! +How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, +Seem to me all the uses of this world! +Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, +That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature +Possess it merely. That it should come to this! +But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: +So excellent a king; that was, to this, +Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother +That he might not beteem the winds of heaven +Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! +Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, +As if increase of appetite had grown +By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- +Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!-- +A little month, or ere those shoes were old +With which she follow'd my poor father's body, +Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she-- +O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, +Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle, +My father's brother, but no more like my father +Than I to Hercules: within a month: +Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears +Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, +She married. O, most wicked speed, to post +With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! +It is not nor it cannot come to good: +But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. + +Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO + +HORATIO +Hail to your lordship! + +HAMLET +I am glad to see you well: +Horatio,--or I do forget myself. + +HORATIO +The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. + +HAMLET +Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: +And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus? + +MARCELLUS +My good lord-- + +HAMLET +I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. +But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? + +HORATIO +A truant disposition, good my lord. + +HAMLET +I would not hear your enemy say so, +Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, +To make it truster of your own report +Against yourself: I know you are no truant. +But what is your affair in Elsinore? +We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. + +HORATIO +My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. + +HAMLET +I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; +I think it was to see my mother's wedding. + +HORATIO +Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. + +HAMLET +Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats +Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. +Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven +Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! +My father!--methinks I see my father. + +HORATIO +Where, my lord? + +HAMLET +In my mind's eye, Horatio. + +HORATIO +I saw him once; he was a goodly king. + +HAMLET +He was a man, take him for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. + +HORATIO +My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. + +HAMLET +Saw? who? + +HORATIO +My lord, the king your father. + +HAMLET +The king my father! + +HORATIO +Season your admiration for awhile +With an attent ear, till I may deliver, +Upon the witness of these gentlemen, +This marvel to you. + +HAMLET +For God's love, let me hear. + +HORATIO +Two nights together had these gentlemen, +Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, +In the dead vast and middle of the night, +Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, +Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe, +Appears before them, and with solemn march +Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd +By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, +Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled +Almost to jelly with the act of fear, +Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me +In dreadful secrecy impart they did; +And I with them the third night kept the watch; +Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, +Form of the thing, each word made true and good, +The apparition comes: I knew your father; +These hands are not more like. + +HAMLET +But where was this? + +MARCELLUS +My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. + +HAMLET +Did you not speak to it? + +HORATIO +My lord, I did; +But answer made it none: yet once methought +It lifted up its head and did address +Itself to motion, like as it would speak; +But even then the morning cock crew loud, +And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, +And vanish'd from our sight. + +HAMLET +'Tis very strange. + +HORATIO +As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; +And we did think it writ down in our duty +To let you know of it. + +HAMLET +Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. +Hold you the watch to-night? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +We do, my lord. + +HAMLET +Arm'd, say you? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Arm'd, my lord. + +HAMLET +From top to toe? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +My lord, from head to foot. + +HAMLET +Then saw you not his face? + +HORATIO +O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. + +HAMLET +What, look'd he frowningly? + +HORATIO +A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. + +HAMLET +Pale or red? + +HORATIO +Nay, very pale. + +HAMLET +And fix'd his eyes upon you? + +HORATIO +Most constantly. + +HAMLET +I would I had been there. + +HORATIO +It would have much amazed you. + +HAMLET +Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? + +HORATIO +While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Longer, longer. + +HORATIO +Not when I saw't. + +HAMLET +His beard was grizzled--no? + +HORATIO +It was, as I have seen it in his life, +A sable silver'd. + +HAMLET +I will watch to-night; +Perchance 'twill walk again. + +HORATIO +I warrant it will. + +HAMLET +If it assume my noble father's person, +I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape +And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, +If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, +Let it be tenable in your silence still; +And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, +Give it an understanding, but no tongue: +I will requite your loves. So, fare you well: +Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, +I'll visit you. + +All +Our duty to your honour. + +HAMLET +Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; +I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! +Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, +Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house. + +Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA +LAERTES +My necessaries are embark'd: farewell: +And, sister, as the winds give benefit +And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, +But let me hear from you. + +OPHELIA +Do you doubt that? + +LAERTES +For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour, +Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, +A violet in the youth of primy nature, +Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, +The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more. + +OPHELIA +No more but so? + +LAERTES +Think it no more; +For nature, crescent, does not grow alone +In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, +The inward service of the mind and soul +Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, +And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch +The virtue of his will: but you must fear, +His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own; +For he himself is subject to his birth: +He may not, as unvalued persons do, +Carve for himself; for on his choice depends +The safety and health of this whole state; +And therefore must his choice be circumscribed +Unto the voice and yielding of that body +Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, +It fits your wisdom so far to believe it +As he in his particular act and place +May give his saying deed; which is no further +Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. +Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, +If with too credent ear you list his songs, +Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open +To his unmaster'd importunity. +Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, +And keep you in the rear of your affection, +Out of the shot and danger of desire. +The chariest maid is prodigal enough, +If she unmask her beauty to the moon: +Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes: +The canker galls the infants of the spring, +Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, +And in the morn and liquid dew of youth +Contagious blastments are most imminent. +Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: +Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. + +OPHELIA +I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, +As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, +Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, +Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; +Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, +Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, +And recks not his own rede. + +LAERTES +O, fear me not. +I stay too long: but here my father comes. + +Enter POLONIUS + +A double blessing is a double grace, +Occasion smiles upon a second leave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! +The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, +And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! +And these few precepts in thy memory +See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, +Nor any unproportioned thought his act. +Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. +Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, +Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; +But do not dull thy palm with entertainment +Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware +Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, +Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. +Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; +Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. +Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, +But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; +For the apparel oft proclaims the man, +And they in France of the best rank and station +Are of a most select and generous chief in that. +Neither a borrower nor a lender be; +For loan oft loses both itself and friend, +And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. +This above all: to thine ownself be true, +And it must follow, as the night the day, +Thou canst not then be false to any man. +Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! + +LAERTES +Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +The time invites you; go; your servants tend. + +LAERTES +Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well +What I have said to you. + +OPHELIA +'Tis in my memory lock'd, +And you yourself shall keep the key of it. + +LAERTES +Farewell. + +Exit + +LORD POLONIUS +What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you? + +OPHELIA +So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well bethought: +'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late +Given private time to you; and you yourself +Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: +If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, +And that in way of caution, I must tell you, +You do not understand yourself so clearly +As it behoves my daughter and your honour. +What is between you? give me up the truth. + +OPHELIA +He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders +Of his affection to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, +Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. +Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? + +OPHELIA +I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; +That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, +Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; +Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, +Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool. + +OPHELIA +My lord, he hath importuned me with love +In honourable fashion. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. + +OPHELIA +And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, +With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, +When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul +Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, +Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, +Even in their promise, as it is a-making, +You must not take for fire. From this time +Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence; +Set your entreatments at a higher rate +Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, +Believe so much in him, that he is young +And with a larger tether may he walk +Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, +Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, +Not of that dye which their investments show, +But mere implorators of unholy suits, +Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, +The better to beguile. This is for all: +I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, +Have you so slander any moment leisure, +As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. +Look to't, I charge you: come your ways. + +OPHELIA +I shall obey, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The platform. + +Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS +HAMLET +The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. + +HORATIO +It is a nipping and an eager air. + +HAMLET +What hour now? + +HORATIO +I think it lacks of twelve. + +HAMLET +No, it is struck. + +HORATIO +Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season +Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. + +A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within + +What does this mean, my lord? + +HAMLET +The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, +Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels; +And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, +The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out +The triumph of his pledge. + +HORATIO +Is it a custom? + +HAMLET +Ay, marry, is't: +But to my mind, though I am native here +And to the manner born, it is a custom +More honour'd in the breach than the observance. +This heavy-headed revel east and west +Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations: +They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase +Soil our addition; and indeed it takes +From our achievements, though perform'd at height, +The pith and marrow of our attribute. +So, oft it chances in particular men, +That for some vicious mole of nature in them, +As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty, +Since nature cannot choose his origin-- +By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, +Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, +Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens +The form of plausive manners, that these men, +Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, +Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-- +Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace, +As infinite as man may undergo-- +Shall in the general censure take corruption +From that particular fault: the dram of eale +Doth all the noble substance of a doubt +To his own scandal. + +HORATIO +Look, my lord, it comes! + +Enter Ghost + +HAMLET +Angels and ministers of grace defend us! +Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, +Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, +Be thy intents wicked or charitable, +Thou comest in such a questionable shape +That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, +King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me! +Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell +Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, +Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre, +Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, +Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, +To cast thee up again. What may this mean, +That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel +Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, +Making night hideous; and we fools of nature +So horridly to shake our disposition +With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? +Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? + +Ghost beckons HAMLET + +HORATIO +It beckons you to go away with it, +As if it some impartment did desire +To you alone. + +MARCELLUS +Look, with what courteous action +It waves you to a more removed ground: +But do not go with it. + +HORATIO +No, by no means. + +HAMLET +It will not speak; then I will follow it. + +HORATIO +Do not, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, what should be the fear? +I do not set my life in a pin's fee; +And for my soul, what can it do to that, +Being a thing immortal as itself? +It waves me forth again: I'll follow it. + +HORATIO +What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, +Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff +That beetles o'er his base into the sea, +And there assume some other horrible form, +Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason +And draw you into madness? think of it: +The very place puts toys of desperation, +Without more motive, into every brain +That looks so many fathoms to the sea +And hears it roar beneath. + +HAMLET +It waves me still. +Go on; I'll follow thee. + +MARCELLUS +You shall not go, my lord. + +HAMLET +Hold off your hands. + +HORATIO +Be ruled; you shall not go. + +HAMLET +My fate cries out, +And makes each petty artery in this body +As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. +Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. +By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! +I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee. + +Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET + +HORATIO +He waxes desperate with imagination. + +MARCELLUS +Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. + +HORATIO +Have after. To what issue will this come? + +MARCELLUS +Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. + +HORATIO +Heaven will direct it. + +MARCELLUS +Nay, let's follow him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the platform. + +Enter GHOST and HAMLET +HAMLET +Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further. + +Ghost +Mark me. + +HAMLET +I will. + +Ghost +My hour is almost come, +When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames +Must render up myself. + +HAMLET +Alas, poor ghost! + +Ghost +Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing +To what I shall unfold. + +HAMLET +Speak; I am bound to hear. + +Ghost +So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. + +HAMLET +What? + +Ghost +I am thy father's spirit, +Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, +And for the day confined to fast in fires, +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature +Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid +To tell the secrets of my prison-house, +I could a tale unfold whose lightest word +Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, +Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, +Thy knotted and combined locks to part +And each particular hair to stand on end, +Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: +But this eternal blazon must not be +To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! +If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- + +HAMLET +O God! + +Ghost +Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. + +HAMLET +Murder! + +Ghost +Murder most foul, as in the best it is; +But this most foul, strange and unnatural. + +HAMLET +Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift +As meditation or the thoughts of love, +May sweep to my revenge. + +Ghost +I find thee apt; +And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed +That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, +Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: +'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, +A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark +Is by a forged process of my death +Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, +The serpent that did sting thy father's life +Now wears his crown. + +HAMLET +O my prophetic soul! My uncle! + +Ghost +Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, +With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,-- +O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power +So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust +The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen: +O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! +From me, whose love was of that dignity +That it went hand in hand even with the vow +I made to her in marriage, and to decline +Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor +To those of mine! +But virtue, as it never will be moved, +Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, +So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, +Will sate itself in a celestial bed, +And prey on garbage. +But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; +Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, +My custom always of the afternoon, +Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, +With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, +And in the porches of my ears did pour +The leperous distilment; whose effect +Holds such an enmity with blood of man +That swift as quicksilver it courses through +The natural gates and alleys of the body, +And with a sudden vigour doth posset +And curd, like eager droppings into milk, +The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; +And a most instant tetter bark'd about, +Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, +All my smooth body. +Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand +Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: +Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, +Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, +No reckoning made, but sent to my account +With all my imperfections on my head: +O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! +If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; +Let not the royal bed of Denmark be +A couch for luxury and damned incest. +But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, +Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive +Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven +And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, +To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once! +The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, +And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: +Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me. + +Exit + +HAMLET +O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else? +And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart; +And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, +But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! +Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat +In this distracted globe. Remember thee! +Yea, from the table of my memory +I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, +All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, +That youth and observation copied there; +And thy commandment all alone shall live +Within the book and volume of my brain, +Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven! +O most pernicious woman! +O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! +My tables,--meet it is I set it down, +That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; +At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark: + +Writing + +So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; +It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.' +I have sworn 't. + +MARCELLUS HORATIO +[Within] My lord, my lord,-- + +MARCELLUS +[Within] Lord Hamlet,-- + +HORATIO +[Within] Heaven secure him! + +HAMLET +So be it! + +HORATIO +[Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord! + +HAMLET +Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come. + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +MARCELLUS +How is't, my noble lord? + +HORATIO +What news, my lord? + +HAMLET +O, wonderful! + +HORATIO +Good my lord, tell it. + +HAMLET +No; you'll reveal it. + +HORATIO +Not I, my lord, by heaven. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord. + +HAMLET +How say you, then; would heart of man once think it? +But you'll be secret? + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +Ay, by heaven, my lord. + +HAMLET +There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark +But he's an arrant knave. + +HORATIO +There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave +To tell us this. + +HAMLET +Why, right; you are i' the right; +And so, without more circumstance at all, +I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: +You, as your business and desire shall point you; +For every man has business and desire, +Such as it is; and for mine own poor part, +Look you, I'll go pray. + +HORATIO +These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. + +HAMLET +I'm sorry they offend you, heartily; +Yes, 'faith heartily. + +HORATIO +There's no offence, my lord. + +HAMLET +Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, +And much offence too. Touching this vision here, +It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: +For your desire to know what is between us, +O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends, +As you are friends, scholars and soldiers, +Give me one poor request. + +HORATIO +What is't, my lord? we will. + +HAMLET +Never make known what you have seen to-night. + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +My lord, we will not. + +HAMLET +Nay, but swear't. + +HORATIO +In faith, +My lord, not I. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord, in faith. + +HAMLET +Upon my sword. + +MARCELLUS +We have sworn, my lord, already. + +HAMLET +Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, +truepenny? +Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage-- +Consent to swear. + +HORATIO +Propose the oath, my lord. + +HAMLET +Never to speak of this that you have seen, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground. +Come hither, gentlemen, +And lay your hands again upon my sword: +Never to speak of this that you have heard, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast? +A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. + +HORATIO +O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! + +HAMLET +And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. +There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, +Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come; +Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, +How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself, +As I perchance hereafter shall think meet +To put an antic disposition on, +That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, +With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake, +Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, +As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' +Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' +Or such ambiguous giving out, to note +That you know aught of me: this not to do, +So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! + +They swear + +So, gentlemen, +With all my love I do commend me to you: +And what so poor a man as Hamlet is +May do, to express his love and friending to you, +God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; +And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. +The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, +That ever I was born to set it right! +Nay, come, let's go together. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS' house. + +Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO +LORD POLONIUS +Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. + +REYNALDO +I will, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, +Before you visit him, to make inquire +Of his behavior. + +REYNALDO +My lord, I did intend it. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir, +Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; +And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, +What company, at what expense; and finding +By this encompassment and drift of question +That they do know my son, come you more nearer +Than your particular demands will touch it: +Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; +As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, +And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo? + +REYNALDO +Ay, very well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well: +But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; +Addicted so and so:' and there put on him +What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank +As may dishonour him; take heed of that; +But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips +As are companions noted and most known +To youth and liberty. + +REYNALDO +As gaming, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, +Drabbing: you may go so far. + +REYNALDO +My lord, that would dishonour him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge +You must not put another scandal on him, +That he is open to incontinency; +That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly +That they may seem the taints of liberty, +The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, +A savageness in unreclaimed blood, +Of general assault. + +REYNALDO +But, my good lord,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +Wherefore should you do this? + +REYNALDO +Ay, my lord, +I would know that. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, sir, here's my drift; +And I believe, it is a fetch of wit: +You laying these slight sullies on my son, +As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you, +Your party in converse, him you would sound, +Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes +The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured +He closes with you in this consequence; +'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' +According to the phrase or the addition +Of man and country. + +REYNALDO +Very good, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I +about to say? By the mass, I was about to say +something: where did I leave? + +REYNALDO +At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' +and 'gentleman.' + +LORD POLONIUS +At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry; +He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman; +I saw him yesterday, or t' other day, +Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, +There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; +There falling out at tennis:' or perchance, +'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' +Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. +See you now; +Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth: +And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, +With windlasses and with assays of bias, +By indirections find directions out: +So by my former lecture and advice, +Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? + +REYNALDO +My lord, I have. + +LORD POLONIUS +God be wi' you; fare you well. + +REYNALDO +Good my lord! + +LORD POLONIUS +Observe his inclination in yourself. + +REYNALDO +I shall, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And let him ply his music. + +REYNALDO +Well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Farewell! + +Exit REYNALDO + +Enter OPHELIA + +How now, Ophelia! what's the matter? + +OPHELIA +O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! + +LORD POLONIUS +With what, i' the name of God? + +OPHELIA +My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, +Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; +No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, +Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; +Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; +And with a look so piteous in purport +As if he had been loosed out of hell +To speak of horrors,--he comes before me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Mad for thy love? + +OPHELIA +My lord, I do not know; +But truly, I do fear it. + +LORD POLONIUS +What said he? + +OPHELIA +He took me by the wrist and held me hard; +Then goes he to the length of all his arm; +And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, +He falls to such perusal of my face +As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; +At last, a little shaking of mine arm +And thrice his head thus waving up and down, +He raised a sigh so piteous and profound +As it did seem to shatter all his bulk +And end his being: that done, he lets me go: +And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, +He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; +For out o' doors he went without their helps, +And, to the last, bended their light on me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, go with me: I will go seek the king. +This is the very ecstasy of love, +Whose violent property fordoes itself +And leads the will to desperate undertakings +As oft as any passion under heaven +That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. +What, have you given him any hard words of late? + +OPHELIA +No, my good lord, but, as you did command, +I did repel his fetters and denied +His access to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +That hath made him mad. +I am sorry that with better heed and judgment +I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle, +And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! +By heaven, it is as proper to our age +To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions +As it is common for the younger sort +To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: +This must be known; which, being kept close, might +move +More grief to hide than hate to utter love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! +Moreover that we much did long to see you, +The need we have to use you did provoke +Our hasty sending. Something have you heard +Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it, +Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man +Resembles that it was. What it should be, +More than his father's death, that thus hath put him +So much from the understanding of himself, +I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, +That, being of so young days brought up with him, +And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior, +That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court +Some little time: so by your companies +To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, +So much as from occasion you may glean, +Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, +That, open'd, lies within our remedy. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; +And sure I am two men there are not living +To whom he more adheres. If it will please you +To show us so much gentry and good will +As to expend your time with us awhile, +For the supply and profit of our hope, +Your visitation shall receive such thanks +As fits a king's remembrance. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Both your majesties +Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, +Put your dread pleasures more into command +Than to entreaty. + +GUILDENSTERN +But we both obey, +And here give up ourselves, in the full bent +To lay our service freely at your feet, +To be commanded. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz: +And I beseech you instantly to visit +My too much changed son. Go, some of you, +And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. + +GUILDENSTERN +Heavens make our presence and our practises +Pleasant and helpful to him! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay, amen! + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, +Are joyfully return'd. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thou still hast been the father of good news. + +LORD POLONIUS +Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege, +I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, +Both to my God and to my gracious king: +And I do think, or else this brain of mine +Hunts not the trail of policy so sure +As it hath used to do, that I have found +The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. + +LORD POLONIUS +Give first admittance to the ambassadors; +My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. + +Exit POLONIUS + +He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found +The head and source of all your son's distemper. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I doubt it is no other but the main; +His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Well, we shall sift him. + +Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +Welcome, my good friends! +Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway? + +VOLTIMAND +Most fair return of greetings and desires. +Upon our first, he sent out to suppress +His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd +To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; +But, better look'd into, he truly found +It was against your highness: whereat grieved, +That so his sickness, age and impotence +Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests +On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; +Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine +Makes vow before his uncle never more +To give the assay of arms against your majesty. +Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, +Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, +And his commission to employ those soldiers, +So levied as before, against the Polack: +With an entreaty, herein further shown, + +Giving a paper + +That it might please you to give quiet pass +Through your dominions for this enterprise, +On such regards of safety and allowance +As therein are set down. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It likes us well; +And at our more consider'd time well read, +Answer, and think upon this business. +Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour: +Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: +Most welcome home! + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +This business is well ended. +My liege, and madam, to expostulate +What majesty should be, what duty is, +Why day is day, night night, and time is time, +Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. +Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, +And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, +I will be brief: your noble son is mad: +Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, +What is't but to be nothing else but mad? +But let that go. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +More matter, with less art. + +LORD POLONIUS +Madam, I swear I use no art at all. +That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity; +And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure; +But farewell it, for I will use no art. +Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains +That we find out the cause of this effect, +Or rather say, the cause of this defect, +For this effect defective comes by cause: +Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. +I have a daughter--have while she is mine-- +Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, +Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise. + +Reads + +'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most +beautified Ophelia,'-- +That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is +a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus: + +Reads + +'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.' + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Came this from Hamlet to her? + +LORD POLONIUS +Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. + +Reads + +'Doubt thou the stars are fire; +Doubt that the sun doth move; +Doubt truth to be a liar; +But never doubt I love. +'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; +I have not art to reckon my groans: but that +I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. +'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst +this machine is to him, HAMLET.' +This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me, +And more above, hath his solicitings, +As they fell out by time, by means and place, +All given to mine ear. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But how hath she +Received his love? + +LORD POLONIUS +What do you think of me? + +KING CLAUDIUS +As of a man faithful and honourable. + +LORD POLONIUS +I would fain prove so. But what might you think, +When I had seen this hot love on the wing-- +As I perceived it, I must tell you that, +Before my daughter told me--what might you, +Or my dear majesty your queen here, think, +If I had play'd the desk or table-book, +Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, +Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; +What might you think? No, I went round to work, +And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: +'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star; +This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her, +That she should lock herself from his resort, +Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. +Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; +And he, repulsed--a short tale to make-- +Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, +Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, +Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, +Into the madness wherein now he raves, +And all we mourn for. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Do you think 'tis this? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +It may be, very likely. + +LORD POLONIUS +Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that-- +That I have positively said 'Tis so,' +When it proved otherwise? + +KING CLAUDIUS +Not that I know. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Pointing to his head and shoulder] +Take this from this, if this be otherwise: +If circumstances lead me, I will find +Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed +Within the centre. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How may we try it further? + +LORD POLONIUS +You know, sometimes he walks four hours together +Here in the lobby. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +So he does indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: +Be you and I behind an arras then; +Mark the encounter: if he love her not +And be not from his reason fall'n thereon, +Let me be no assistant for a state, +But keep a farm and carters. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We will try it. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. + +LORD POLONIUS +Away, I do beseech you, both away: +I'll board him presently. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and Attendants + +Enter HAMLET, reading + +O, give me leave: +How does my good Lord Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Well, God-a-mercy. + +LORD POLONIUS +Do you know me, my lord? + +HAMLET +Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. + +LORD POLONIUS +Not I, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then I would you were so honest a man. + +LORD POLONIUS +Honest, my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be +one man picked out of ten thousand. + +LORD POLONIUS +That's very true, my lord. + +HAMLET +For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a +god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter? + +LORD POLONIUS +I have, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a +blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive. +Friend, look to 't. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my +daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I +was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and +truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for +love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. +What do you read, my lord? + +HAMLET +Words, words, words. + +LORD POLONIUS +What is the matter, my lord? + +HAMLET +Between who? + +LORD POLONIUS +I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. + +HAMLET +Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here +that old men have grey beards, that their faces are +wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and +plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of +wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, +though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet +I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for +yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab +you could go backward. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method +in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord? + +HAMLET +Into my grave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Indeed, that is out o' the air. + +Aside + +How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness +that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity +could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will +leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of +meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable +lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. + +HAMLET +You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will +more willingly part withal: except my life, except +my life, except my life. + +LORD POLONIUS +Fare you well, my lord. + +HAMLET +These tedious old fools! + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +LORD POLONIUS +You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. + +ROSENCRANTZ +[To POLONIUS] God save you, sir! + +Exit POLONIUS + +GUILDENSTERN +My honoured lord! + +ROSENCRANTZ +My most dear lord! + +HAMLET +My excellent good friends! How dost thou, +Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? + +ROSENCRANTZ +As the indifferent children of the earth. + +GUILDENSTERN +Happy, in that we are not over-happy; +On fortune's cap we are not the very button. + +HAMLET +Nor the soles of her shoe? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Neither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of +her favours? + +GUILDENSTERN +'Faith, her privates we. + +HAMLET +In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she +is a strumpet. What's the news? + +ROSENCRANTZ +None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest. + +HAMLET +Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true. +Let me question more in particular: what have you, +my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, +that she sends you to prison hither? + +GUILDENSTERN +Prison, my lord! + +HAMLET +Denmark's a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then is the world one. + +HAMLET +A goodly one; in which there are many confines, +wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We think not so, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing +either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me +it is a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too +narrow for your mind. + +HAMLET +O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count +myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I +have bad dreams. + +GUILDENSTERN +Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very +substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. + +HAMLET +A dream itself is but a shadow. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a +quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. + +HAMLET +Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and +outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we +to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We'll wait upon you. + +HAMLET +No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest +of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest +man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the +beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. + +HAMLET +Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I +thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are +too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it +your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, +deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +What should we say, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent +for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks +which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: +I know the good king and queen have sent for you. + +ROSENCRANTZ +To what end, my lord? + +HAMLET +That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by +the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of +our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved +love, and by what more dear a better proposer could +charge you withal, be even and direct with me, +whether you were sent for, or no? + +ROSENCRANTZ +[Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you? + +HAMLET +[Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you +love me, hold not off. + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, we were sent for. + +HAMLET +I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation +prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king +and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but +wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all +custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily +with my disposition that this goodly frame, the +earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most +excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave +o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted +with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to +me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. +What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! +how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how +express and admirable! in action how like an angel! +in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the +world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, +what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not +me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling +you seem to say so. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. + +HAMLET +Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what +lenten entertainment the players shall receive from +you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they +coming, to offer you service. + +HAMLET +He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty +shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight +shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not +sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part +in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose +lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall +say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt +for't. What players are they? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Even those you were wont to take delight in, the +tragedians of the city. + +HAMLET +How chances it they travel? their residence, both +in reputation and profit, was better both ways. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I think their inhibition comes by the means of the +late innovation. + +HAMLET +Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was +in the city? are they so followed? + +ROSENCRANTZ +No, indeed, are they not. + +HAMLET +How comes it? do they grow rusty? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but +there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, +that cry out on the top of question, and are most +tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the +fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they +call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of +goose-quills and dare scarce come thither. + +HAMLET +What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are +they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no +longer than they can sing? will they not say +afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common +players--as it is most like, if their means are no +better--their writers do them wrong, to make them +exclaim against their own succession? + +ROSENCRANTZ +'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and +the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to +controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid +for argument, unless the poet and the player went to +cuffs in the question. + +HAMLET +Is't possible? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, there has been much throwing about of brains. + +HAMLET +Do the boys carry it away? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too. + +HAMLET +It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of +Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while +my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an +hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little. +'Sblood, there is something in this more than +natural, if philosophy could find it out. + +Flourish of trumpets within + +GUILDENSTERN +There are the players. + +HAMLET +Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, +come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion +and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb, +lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, +must show fairly outward, should more appear like +entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my +uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. + +GUILDENSTERN +In what, my dear lord? + +HAMLET +I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is +southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +Well be with you, gentlemen! + +HAMLET +Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a +hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet +out of his swaddling-clouts. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Happily he's the second time come to them; for they +say an old man is twice a child. + +HAMLET +I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; +mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; +'twas so indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I have news to tell you. + +HAMLET +My lord, I have news to tell you. +When Roscius was an actor in Rome,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The actors are come hither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Buz, buz! + +LORD POLONIUS +Upon mine honour,-- + +HAMLET +Then came each actor on his ass,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, +comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, +historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical- +comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or +poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor +Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the +liberty, these are the only men. + +HAMLET +O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! + +LORD POLONIUS +What a treasure had he, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'One fair daughter and no more, +The which he loved passing well.' + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Still on my daughter. + +HAMLET +Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah? + +LORD POLONIUS +If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter +that I love passing well. + +HAMLET +Nay, that follows not. + +LORD POLONIUS +What follows, then, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'As by lot, God wot,' +and then, you know, +'It came to pass, as most like it was,'-- +the first row of the pious chanson will show you +more; for look, where my abridgement comes. + +Enter four or five Players + +You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad +to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old +friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last: +comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young +lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is +nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the +altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like +apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the +ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en +to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see: +we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste +of your quality; come, a passionate speech. + +First Player +What speech, my lord? + +HAMLET +I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was +never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the +play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas +caviare to the general: but it was--as I received +it, and others, whose judgments in such matters +cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well +digested in the scenes, set down with as much +modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there +were no sallets in the lines to make the matter +savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might +indict the author of affectation; but called it an +honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very +much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I +chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and +thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of +Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin +at this line: let me see, let me see-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'-- +it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, +Black as his purpose, did the night resemble +When he lay couched in the ominous horse, +Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd +With heraldry more dismal; head to foot +Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd +With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, +Baked and impasted with the parching streets, +That lend a tyrannous and damned light +To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire, +And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore, +With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus +Old grandsire Priam seeks.' +So, proceed you. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and +good discretion. + +First Player +'Anon he finds him +Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, +Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, +Repugnant to command: unequal match'd, +Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; +But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword +The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, +Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top +Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash +Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword, +Which was declining on the milky head +Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: +So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, +And like a neutral to his will and matter, +Did nothing. +But, as we often see, against some storm, +A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, +The bold winds speechless and the orb below +As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder +Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause, +Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work; +And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall +On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne +With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword +Now falls on Priam. +Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, +In general synod 'take away her power; +Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, +And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, +As low as to the fiends!' + +LORD POLONIUS +This is too long. + +HAMLET +It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee, +say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he +sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba. + +First Player +'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--' + +HAMLET +'The mobled queen?' + +LORD POLONIUS +That's good; 'mobled queen' is good. + +First Player +'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames +With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head +Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, +About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins, +A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; +Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, +'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have +pronounced: +But if the gods themselves did see her then +When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport +In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, +The instant burst of clamour that she made, +Unless things mortal move them not at all, +Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, +And passion in the gods.' + +LORD POLONIUS +Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has +tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more. + +HAMLET +'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. +Good my lord, will you see the players well +bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for +they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the +time: after your death you were better have a bad +epitaph than their ill report while you live. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I will use them according to their desert. + +HAMLET +God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man +after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? +Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less +they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. +Take them in. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, sirs. + +HAMLET +Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. + +Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First + +Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the +Murder of Gonzago? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, +study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which +I would set down and insert in't, could you not? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him +not. + +Exit First Player + +My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are +welcome to Elsinore. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, so, God be wi' ye; + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Now I am alone. +O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! +Is it not monstrous that this player here, +But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, +Could force his soul so to his own conceit +That from her working all his visage wann'd, +Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, +A broken voice, and his whole function suiting +With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! +For Hecuba! +What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, +That he should weep for her? What would he do, +Had he the motive and the cue for passion +That I have? He would drown the stage with tears +And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, +Make mad the guilty and appal the free, +Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed +The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, +A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, +Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, +And can say nothing; no, not for a king, +Upon whose property and most dear life +A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? +Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? +Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? +Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, +As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? +Ha! +'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be +But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall +To make oppression bitter, or ere this +I should have fatted all the region kites +With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain! +Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! +O, vengeance! +Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, +That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, +Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, +Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, +And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, +A scullion! +Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard +That guilty creatures sitting at a play +Have by the very cunning of the scene +Been struck so to the soul that presently +They have proclaim'd their malefactions; +For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak +With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players +Play something like the murder of my father +Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks; +I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, +I know my course. The spirit that I have seen +May be the devil: and the devil hath power +To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps +Out of my weakness and my melancholy, +As he is very potent with such spirits, +Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds +More relative than this: the play 's the thing +Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +And can you, by no drift of circumstance, +Get from him why he puts on this confusion, +Grating so harshly all his days of quiet +With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? + +ROSENCRANTZ +He does confess he feels himself distracted; +But from what cause he will by no means speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, +But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, +When we would bring him on to some confession +Of his true state. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did he receive you well? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Most like a gentleman. + +GUILDENSTERN +But with much forcing of his disposition. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Niggard of question; but, of our demands, +Most free in his reply. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did you assay him? +To any pastime? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Madam, it so fell out, that certain players +We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him; +And there did seem in him a kind of joy +To hear of it: they are about the court, +And, as I think, they have already order +This night to play before him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Tis most true: +And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties +To hear and see the matter. + +KING CLAUDIUS +With all my heart; and it doth much content me +To hear him so inclined. +Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, +And drive his purpose on to these delights. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We shall, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; +For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, +That he, as 'twere by accident, may here +Affront Ophelia: +Her father and myself, lawful espials, +Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen, +We may of their encounter frankly judge, +And gather by him, as he is behaved, +If 't be the affliction of his love or no +That thus he suffers for. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I shall obey you. +And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish +That your good beauties be the happy cause +Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues +Will bring him to his wonted way again, +To both your honours. + +OPHELIA +Madam, I wish it may. + +Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE + +LORD POLONIUS +Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you, +We will bestow ourselves. + +To OPHELIA + +Read on this book; +That show of such an exercise may colour +Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,-- +'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage +And pious action we do sugar o'er +The devil himself. + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Aside] O, 'tis too true! +How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! +The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, +Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it +Than is my deed to my most painted word: +O heavy burthen! + +LORD POLONIUS +I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +To be, or not to be: that is the question: +Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer +The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, +Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, +And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; +No more; and by a sleep to say we end +The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks +That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation +Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; +To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; +For in that sleep of death what dreams may come +When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, +Must give us pause: there's the respect +That makes calamity of so long life; +For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, +The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, +The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, +The insolence of office and the spurns +That patient merit of the unworthy takes, +When he himself might his quietus make +With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, +To grunt and sweat under a weary life, +But that the dread of something after death, +The undiscover'd country from whose bourn +No traveller returns, puzzles the will +And makes us rather bear those ills we have +Than fly to others that we know not of? +Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; +And thus the native hue of resolution +Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, +And enterprises of great pith and moment +With this regard their currents turn awry, +And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! +The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons +Be all my sins remember'd. + +OPHELIA +Good my lord, +How does your honour for this many a day? + +HAMLET +I humbly thank you; well, well, well. + +OPHELIA +My lord, I have remembrances of yours, +That I have longed long to re-deliver; +I pray you, now receive them. + +HAMLET +No, not I; +I never gave you aught. + +OPHELIA +My honour'd lord, you know right well you did; +And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed +As made the things more rich: their perfume lost, +Take these again; for to the noble mind +Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. +There, my lord. + +HAMLET +Ha, ha! are you honest? + +OPHELIA +My lord? + +HAMLET +Are you fair? + +OPHELIA +What means your lordship? + +HAMLET +That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should +admit no discourse to your beauty. + +OPHELIA +Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than +with honesty? + +HAMLET +Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner +transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the +force of honesty can translate beauty into his +likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the +time gives it proof. I did love you once. + +OPHELIA +Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + +HAMLET +You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot +so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of +it: I loved you not. + +OPHELIA +I was the more deceived. + +HAMLET +Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a +breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; +but yet I could accuse me of such things that it +were better my mother had not borne me: I am very +proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at +my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, +imagination to give them shape, or time to act them +in. What should such fellows as I do crawling +between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, +all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. +Where's your father? + +OPHELIA +At home, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the +fool no where but in's own house. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O, help him, you sweet heavens! + +HAMLET +If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for +thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as +snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a +nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs +marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough +what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, +and quickly too. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O heavenly powers, restore him! + +HAMLET +I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God +has given you one face, and you make yourselves +another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and +nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness +your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath +made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: +those that are married already, all but one, shall +live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a +nunnery, go. + +Exit + +OPHELIA +O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! +The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; +The expectancy and rose of the fair state, +The glass of fashion and the mould of form, +The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! +And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, +That suck'd the honey of his music vows, +Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, +Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; +That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth +Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me, +To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! + +Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +KING CLAUDIUS +Love! his affections do not that way tend; +Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, +Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, +O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; +And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose +Will be some danger: which for to prevent, +I have in quick determination +Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England, +For the demand of our neglected tribute +Haply the seas and countries different +With variable objects shall expel +This something-settled matter in his heart, +Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus +From fashion of himself. What think you on't? + +LORD POLONIUS +It shall do well: but yet do I believe +The origin and commencement of his grief +Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia! +You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; +We heard it all. My lord, do as you please; +But, if you hold it fit, after the play +Let his queen mother all alone entreat him +To show his grief: let her be round with him; +And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear +Of all their conference. If she find him not, +To England send him, or confine him where +Your wisdom best shall think. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It shall be so: +Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A hall in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET and Players +HAMLET +Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to +you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, +as many of your players do, I had as lief the +town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air +too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; +for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, +the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget +a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it +offends me to the soul to hear a robustious +periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to +very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who +for the most part are capable of nothing but +inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such +a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it +out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. + +First Player +I warrant your honour. + +HAMLET +Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion +be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the +word to the action; with this special o'erstep not +the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is +from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the +first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the +mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, +scorn her own image, and the very age and body of +the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, +or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful +laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the +censure of the which one must in your allowance +o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be +players that I have seen play, and heard others +praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, +that, neither having the accent of Christians nor +the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so +strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of +nature's journeymen had made men and not made them +well, they imitated humanity so abominably. + +First Player +I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, +sir. + +HAMLET +O, reform it altogether. And let those that play +your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; +for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to +set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh +too; though, in the mean time, some necessary +question of the play be then to be considered: +that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition +in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready. + +Exeunt Players + +Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN + +How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work? + +LORD POLONIUS +And the queen too, and that presently. + +HAMLET +Bid the players make haste. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Will you two help to hasten them? + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +HAMLET +What ho! Horatio! + +Enter HORATIO + +HORATIO +Here, sweet lord, at your service. + +HAMLET +Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man +As e'er my conversation coped withal. + +HORATIO +O, my dear lord,-- + +HAMLET +Nay, do not think I flatter; +For what advancement may I hope from thee +That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, +To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? +No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, +And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee +Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? +Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice +And could of men distinguish, her election +Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been +As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, +A man that fortune's buffets and rewards +Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those +Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, +That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger +To sound what stop she please. Give me that man +That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him +In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, +As I do thee.--Something too much of this.-- +There is a play to-night before the king; +One scene of it comes near the circumstance +Which I have told thee of my father's death: +I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, +Even with the very comment of thy soul +Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt +Do not itself unkennel in one speech, +It is a damned ghost that we have seen, +And my imaginations are as foul +As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; +For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, +And after we will both our judgments join +In censure of his seeming. + +HORATIO +Well, my lord: +If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, +And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. + +HAMLET +They are coming to the play; I must be idle: +Get you a place. + +Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +KING CLAUDIUS +How fares our cousin Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat +the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so. + +KING CLAUDIUS +I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words +are not mine. + +HAMLET +No, nor mine now. + +To POLONIUS + +My lord, you played once i' the university, you say? + +LORD POLONIUS +That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor. + +HAMLET +What did you enact? + +LORD POLONIUS +I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the +Capitol; Brutus killed me. + +HAMLET +It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf +there. Be the players ready? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. + +HAMLET +No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. + +LORD POLONIUS +[To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that? + +HAMLET +Lady, shall I lie in your lap? + +Lying down at OPHELIA's feet + +OPHELIA +No, my lord. + +HAMLET +I mean, my head upon your lap? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Do you think I meant country matters? + +OPHELIA +I think nothing, my lord. + +HAMLET +That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. + +OPHELIA +What is, my lord? + +HAMLET +Nothing. + +OPHELIA +You are merry, my lord. + +HAMLET +Who, I? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do +but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my +mother looks, and my father died within these two hours. + +OPHELIA +Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. + +HAMLET +So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for +I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two +months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's +hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half +a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches, +then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with +the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O, +the hobby-horse is forgot.' + +Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters + +Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love + +Exeunt + +OPHELIA +What means this, my lord? + +HAMLET +Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. + +OPHELIA +Belike this show imports the argument of the play. + +Enter Prologue + +HAMLET +We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot +keep counsel; they'll tell all. + +OPHELIA +Will he tell us what this show meant? + +HAMLET +Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you +ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. + +OPHELIA +You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play. + +Prologue +For us, and for our tragedy, +Here stooping to your clemency, +We beg your hearing patiently. + +Exit + +HAMLET +Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? + +OPHELIA +'Tis brief, my lord. + +HAMLET +As woman's love. + +Enter two Players, King and Queen + +Player King +Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round +Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, +And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen +About the world have times twelve thirties been, +Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands +Unite commutual in most sacred bands. + +Player Queen +So many journeys may the sun and moon +Make us again count o'er ere love be done! +But, woe is me, you are so sick of late, +So far from cheer and from your former state, +That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, +Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must: +For women's fear and love holds quantity; +In neither aught, or in extremity. +Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; +And as my love is sized, my fear is so: +Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; +Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. + +Player King +'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; +My operant powers their functions leave to do: +And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, +Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind +For husband shalt thou-- + +Player Queen +O, confound the rest! +Such love must needs be treason in my breast: +In second husband let me be accurst! +None wed the second but who kill'd the first. + +HAMLET +[Aside] Wormwood, wormwood. + +Player Queen +The instances that second marriage move +Are base respects of thrift, but none of love: +A second time I kill my husband dead, +When second husband kisses me in bed. + +Player King +I do believe you think what now you speak; +But what we do determine oft we break. +Purpose is but the slave to memory, +Of violent birth, but poor validity; +Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; +But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. +Most necessary 'tis that we forget +To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt: +What to ourselves in passion we propose, +The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. +The violence of either grief or joy +Their own enactures with themselves destroy: +Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; +Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. +This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange +That even our loves should with our fortunes change; +For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, +Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. +The great man down, you mark his favourite flies; +The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. +And hitherto doth love on fortune tend; +For who not needs shall never lack a friend, +And who in want a hollow friend doth try, +Directly seasons him his enemy. +But, orderly to end where I begun, +Our wills and fates do so contrary run +That our devices still are overthrown; +Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: +So think thou wilt no second husband wed; +But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. + +Player Queen +Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! +Sport and repose lock from me day and night! +To desperation turn my trust and hope! +An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope! +Each opposite that blanks the face of joy +Meet what I would have well and it destroy! +Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, +If, once a widow, ever I be wife! + +HAMLET +If she should break it now! + +Player King +'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile; +My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile +The tedious day with sleep. + +Sleeps + +Player Queen +Sleep rock thy brain, +And never come mischance between us twain! + +Exit + +HAMLET +Madam, how like you this play? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +The lady protests too much, methinks. + +HAMLET +O, but she'll keep her word. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't? + +HAMLET +No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence +i' the world. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What do you call the play? + +HAMLET +The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play +is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is +the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see +anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o' +that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it +touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our +withers are unwrung. + +Enter LUCIANUS + +This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. + +OPHELIA +You are as good as a chorus, my lord. + +HAMLET +I could interpret between you and your love, if I +could see the puppets dallying. + +OPHELIA +You are keen, my lord, you are keen. + +HAMLET +It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. + +OPHELIA +Still better, and worse. + +HAMLET +So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer; +pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come: +'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' + +LUCIANUS +Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; +Confederate season, else no creature seeing; +Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, +With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, +Thy natural magic and dire property, +On wholesome life usurp immediately. + +Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears + +HAMLET +He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His +name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in +choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer +gets the love of Gonzago's wife. + +OPHELIA +The king rises. + +HAMLET +What, frighted with false fire! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +How fares my lord? + +LORD POLONIUS +Give o'er the play. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Give me some light: away! + +All +Lights, lights, lights! + +Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO + +HAMLET +Why, let the stricken deer go weep, +The hart ungalled play; +For some must watch, while some must sleep: +So runs the world away. +Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if +the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two +Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a +fellowship in a cry of players, sir? + +HORATIO +Half a share. + +HAMLET +A whole one, I. +For thou dost know, O Damon dear, +This realm dismantled was +Of Jove himself; and now reigns here +A very, very--pajock. + +HORATIO +You might have rhymed. + +HAMLET +O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a +thousand pound. Didst perceive? + +HORATIO +Very well, my lord. + +HAMLET +Upon the talk of the poisoning? + +HORATIO +I did very well note him. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders! +For if the king like not the comedy, +Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. +Come, some music! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. + +HAMLET +Sir, a whole history. + +GUILDENSTERN +The king, sir,-- + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, what of him? + +GUILDENSTERN +Is in his retirement marvellous distempered. + +HAMLET +With drink, sir? + +GUILDENSTERN +No, my lord, rather with choler. + +HAMLET +Your wisdom should show itself more richer to +signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him +to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far +more choler. + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and +start not so wildly from my affair. + +HAMLET +I am tame, sir: pronounce. + +GUILDENSTERN +The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of +spirit, hath sent me to you. + +HAMLET +You are welcome. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right +breed. If it shall please you to make me a +wholesome answer, I will do your mother's +commandment: if not, your pardon and my return +shall be the end of my business. + +HAMLET +Sir, I cannot. + +GUILDENSTERN +What, my lord? + +HAMLET +Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but, +sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; +or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no +more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,-- + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her +into amazement and admiration. + +HAMLET +O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But +is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's +admiration? Impart. + +ROSENCRANTZ +She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you +go to bed. + +HAMLET +We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have +you any further trade with us? + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you once did love me. + +HAMLET +So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you +do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if +you deny your griefs to your friend. + +HAMLET +Sir, I lack advancement. + +ROSENCRANTZ +How can that be, when you have the voice of the king +himself for your succession in Denmark? + +HAMLET +Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb +is something musty. + +Re-enter Players with recorders + +O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with +you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me, +as if you would drive me into a toil? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too +unmannerly. + +HAMLET +I do not well understand that. Will you play upon +this pipe? + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I pray you. + +GUILDENSTERN +Believe me, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I do beseech you. + +GUILDENSTERN +I know no touch of it, my lord. + +HAMLET +'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with +your lingers and thumb, give it breath with your +mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. +Look you, these are the stops. + +GUILDENSTERN +But these cannot I command to any utterance of +harmony; I have not the skill. + +HAMLET +Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of +me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know +my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my +mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to +the top of my compass: and there is much music, +excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot +you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am +easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what +instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you +cannot play upon me. + +Enter POLONIUS + +God bless you, sir! + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, the queen would speak with you, and +presently. + +HAMLET +Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? + +LORD POLONIUS +By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. + +HAMLET +Methinks it is like a weasel. + +LORD POLONIUS +It is backed like a weasel. + +HAMLET +Or like a whale? + +LORD POLONIUS +Very like a whale. + +HAMLET +Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool +me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by. + +LORD POLONIUS +I will say so. + +HAMLET +By and by is easily said. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Leave me, friends. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +Tis now the very witching time of night, +When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out +Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, +And do such bitter business as the day +Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother. +O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever +The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom: +Let me be cruel, not unnatural: +I will speak daggers to her, but use none; +My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites; +How in my words soever she be shent, +To give them seals never, my soul, consent! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +I like him not, nor stands it safe with us +To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; +I your commission will forthwith dispatch, +And he to England shall along with you: +The terms of our estate may not endure +Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow +Out of his lunacies. + +GUILDENSTERN +We will ourselves provide: +Most holy and religious fear it is +To keep those many many bodies safe +That live and feed upon your majesty. + +ROSENCRANTZ +The single and peculiar life is bound, +With all the strength and armour of the mind, +To keep itself from noyance; but much more +That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest +The lives of many. The cease of majesty +Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw +What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel, +Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, +To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things +Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, +Each small annexment, petty consequence, +Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone +Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; +For we will fetters put upon this fear, +Which now goes too free-footed. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will haste us. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, he's going to his mother's closet: +Behind the arras I'll convey myself, +To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home: +And, as you said, and wisely was it said, +'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, +Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear +The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege: +I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, +And tell you what I know. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, dear my lord. + +Exit POLONIUS + +O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven; +It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, +A brother's murder. Pray can I not, +Though inclination be as sharp as will: +My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; +And, like a man to double business bound, +I stand in pause where I shall first begin, +And both neglect. What if this cursed hand +Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, +Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens +To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy +But to confront the visage of offence? +And what's in prayer but this two-fold force, +To be forestalled ere we come to fall, +Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up; +My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer +Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'? +That cannot be; since I am still possess'd +Of those effects for which I did the murder, +My crown, mine own ambition and my queen. +May one be pardon'd and retain the offence? +In the corrupted currents of this world +Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, +And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself +Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; +There is no shuffling, there the action lies +In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd, +Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, +To give in evidence. What then? what rests? +Try what repentance can: what can it not? +Yet what can it when one can not repent? +O wretched state! O bosom black as death! +O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, +Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! +Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, +Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe! +All may be well. + +Retires and kneels + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now might I do it pat, now he is praying; +And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven; +And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd: +A villain kills my father; and for that, +I, his sole son, do this same villain send +To heaven. +O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. +He took my father grossly, full of bread; +With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; +And how his audit stands who knows save heaven? +But in our circumstance and course of thought, +'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged, +To take him in the purging of his soul, +When he is fit and season'd for his passage? +No! +Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent: +When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, +Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed; +At gaming, swearing, or about some act +That has no relish of salvation in't; +Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, +And that his soul may be as damn'd and black +As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays: +This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: +Words without thoughts never to heaven go. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The Queen's closet. + +Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS +LORD POLONIUS +He will come straight. Look you lay home to him: +Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, +And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between +Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here. +Pray you, be round with him. + +HAMLET +[Within] Mother, mother, mother! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I'll warrant you, +Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming. + +POLONIUS hides behind the arras + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now, mother, what's the matter? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. + +HAMLET +Mother, you have my father much offended. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. + +HAMLET +Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Why, how now, Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What's the matter now? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Have you forgot me? + +HAMLET +No, by the rood, not so: +You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; +And--would it were not so!--you are my mother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. + +HAMLET +Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge; +You go not till I set you up a glass +Where you may see the inmost part of you. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me? +Help, help, ho! + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help! + +HAMLET +[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! + +Makes a pass through the arras + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] O, I am slain! + +Falls and dies + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O me, what hast thou done? + +HAMLET +Nay, I know not: +Is it the king? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! + +HAMLET +A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, +As kill a king, and marry with his brother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +As kill a king! + +HAMLET +Ay, lady, 'twas my word. + +Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS + +Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! +I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune; +Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. +Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down, +And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, +If it be made of penetrable stuff, +If damned custom have not brass'd it so +That it is proof and bulwark against sense. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue +In noise so rude against me? + +HAMLET +Such an act +That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, +Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose +From the fair forehead of an innocent love +And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows +As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed +As from the body of contraction plucks +The very soul, and sweet religion makes +A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: +Yea, this solidity and compound mass, +With tristful visage, as against the doom, +Is thought-sick at the act. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay me, what act, +That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? + +HAMLET +Look here, upon this picture, and on this, +The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. +See, what a grace was seated on this brow; +Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; +An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; +A station like the herald Mercury +New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; +A combination and a form indeed, +Where every god did seem to set his seal, +To give the world assurance of a man: +This was your husband. Look you now, what follows: +Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear, +Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? +Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, +And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? +You cannot call it love; for at your age +The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, +And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment +Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, +Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense +Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err, +Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd +But it reserved some quantity of choice, +To serve in such a difference. What devil was't +That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind? +Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, +Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, +Or but a sickly part of one true sense +Could not so mope. +O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, +If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, +To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, +And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame +When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, +Since frost itself as actively doth burn +And reason panders will. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, speak no more: +Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; +And there I see such black and grained spots +As will not leave their tinct. + +HAMLET +Nay, but to live +In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, +Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love +Over the nasty sty,-- + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, speak to me no more; +These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; +No more, sweet Hamlet! + +HAMLET +A murderer and a villain; +A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe +Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; +A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, +That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, +And put it in his pocket! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No more! + +HAMLET +A king of shreds and patches,-- + +Enter Ghost + +Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, +You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, he's mad! + +HAMLET +Do you not come your tardy son to chide, +That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by +The important acting of your dread command? O, say! + +Ghost +Do not forget: this visitation +Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. +But, look, amazement on thy mother sits: +O, step between her and her fighting soul: +Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works: +Speak to her, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +How is it with you, lady? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, how is't with you, +That you do bend your eye on vacancy +And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? +Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; +And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, +Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, +Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, +Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper +Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? + +HAMLET +On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares! +His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, +Would make them capable. Do not look upon me; +Lest with this piteous action you convert +My stern effects: then what I have to do +Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To whom do you speak this? + +HAMLET +Do you see nothing there? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. + +HAMLET +Nor did you nothing hear? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No, nothing but ourselves. + +HAMLET +Why, look you there! look, how it steals away! +My father, in his habit as he lived! +Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! + +Exit Ghost + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +This the very coinage of your brain: +This bodiless creation ecstasy +Is very cunning in. + +HAMLET +Ecstasy! +My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, +And makes as healthful music: it is not madness +That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, +And I the matter will re-word; which madness +Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, +Lay not that mattering unction to your soul, +That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: +It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, +Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, +Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; +Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; +And do not spread the compost on the weeds, +To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; +For in the fatness of these pursy times +Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, +Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. + +HAMLET +O, throw away the worser part of it, +And live the purer with the other half. +Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; +Assume a virtue, if you have it not. +That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, +Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, +That to the use of actions fair and good +He likewise gives a frock or livery, +That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night, +And that shall lend a kind of easiness +To the next abstinence: the next more easy; +For use almost can change the stamp of nature, +And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out +With wondrous potency. Once more, good night: +And when you are desirous to be bless'd, +I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, + +Pointing to POLONIUS + +I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, +To punish me with this and this with me, +That I must be their scourge and minister. +I will bestow him, and will answer well +The death I gave him. So, again, good night. +I must be cruel, only to be kind: +Thus bad begins and worse remains behind. +One word more, good lady. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What shall I do? + +HAMLET +Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: +Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; +Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; +And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, +Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, +Make you to ravel all this matter out, +That I essentially am not in madness, +But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; +For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, +Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, +Such dear concernings hide? who would do so? +No, in despite of sense and secrecy, +Unpeg the basket on the house's top. +Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, +To try conclusions, in the basket creep, +And break your own neck down. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, +And breath of life, I have no life to breathe +What thou hast said to me. + +HAMLET +I must to England; you know that? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alack, +I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. + +HAMLET +There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows, +Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, +They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, +And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; +For 'tis the sport to have the engineer +Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard +But I will delve one yard below their mines, +And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet, +When in one line two crafts directly meet. +This man shall set me packing: +I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. +Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor +Is now most still, most secret and most grave, +Who was in life a foolish prating knave. +Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. +Good night, mother. + +Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves: +You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them. +Where is your son? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Bestow this place on us a little while. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! + +KING CLAUDIUS +What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend +Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit, +Behind the arras hearing something stir, +Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!' +And, in this brainish apprehension, kills +The unseen good old man. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O heavy deed! +It had been so with us, had we been there: +His liberty is full of threats to all; +To you yourself, to us, to every one. +Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? +It will be laid to us, whose providence +Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt, +This mad young man: but so much was our love, +We would not understand what was most fit; +But, like the owner of a foul disease, +To keep it from divulging, let it feed +Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: +O'er whom his very madness, like some ore +Among a mineral of metals base, +Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O Gertrude, come away! +The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, +But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed +We must, with all our majesty and skill, +Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Friends both, go join you with some further aid: +Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, +And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him: +Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body +Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends; +And let them know, both what we mean to do, +And what's untimely done. O, come away! +My soul is full of discord and dismay. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another room in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET +HAMLET +Safely stowed. + +ROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN: +[Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What noise? who calls on Hamlet? +O, here they come. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +ROSENCRANTZ +What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? + +HAMLET +Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence +And bear it to the chapel. + +HAMLET +Do not believe it. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Believe what? + +HAMLET +That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. +Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what +replication should be made by the son of a king? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Take you me for a sponge, my lord? + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his +rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the +king best service in the end: he keeps them, like +an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to +be last swallowed: when he needs what you have +gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you +shall be dry again. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I understand you not, my lord. + +HAMLET +I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a +foolish ear. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go +with us to the king. + +HAMLET +The body is with the king, but the king is not with +the body. The king is a thing-- + +GUILDENSTERN +A thing, my lord! + +HAMLET +Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Another room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, attended +KING CLAUDIUS +I have sent to seek him, and to find the body. +How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! +Yet must not we put the strong law on him: +He's loved of the distracted multitude, +Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; +And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd, +But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even, +This sudden sending him away must seem +Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown +By desperate appliance are relieved, +Or not at all. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ + +How now! what hath befall'n? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, +We cannot get from him. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But where is he? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Bring him before us. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord. + +Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? + +HAMLET +At supper. + +KING CLAUDIUS +At supper! where? + +HAMLET +Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain +convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your +worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all +creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for +maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but +variable service, two dishes, but to one table: +that's the end. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Alas, alas! + +HAMLET +A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a +king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What dost you mean by this? + +HAMLET +Nothing but to show you how a king may go a +progress through the guts of a beggar. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Where is Polonius? + +HAMLET +In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger +find him not there, seek him i' the other place +yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within +this month, you shall nose him as you go up the +stairs into the lobby. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Go seek him there. + +To some Attendants + +HAMLET +He will stay till ye come. + +Exeunt Attendants + +KING CLAUDIUS +Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-- +Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve +For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence +With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself; +The bark is ready, and the wind at help, +The associates tend, and every thing is bent +For England. + +HAMLET +For England! + +KING CLAUDIUS +Ay, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +Good. + +KING CLAUDIUS +So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. + +HAMLET +I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for +England! Farewell, dear mother. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thy loving father, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man +and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England! + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard; +Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night: +Away! for every thing is seal'd and done +That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught-- +As my great power thereof may give thee sense, +Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red +After the Danish sword, and thy free awe +Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set +Our sovereign process; which imports at full, +By letters congruing to that effect, +The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; +For like the hectic in my blood he rages, +And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done, +Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark. + +Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; +Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras +Craves the conveyance of a promised march +Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. +If that his majesty would aught with us, +We shall express our duty in his eye; +And let him know so. + +Captain +I will do't, my lord. + +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go softly on. + +Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers + +Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +HAMLET +Good sir, whose powers are these? + +Captain +They are of Norway, sir. + +HAMLET +How purposed, sir, I pray you? + +Captain +Against some part of Poland. + +HAMLET +Who commands them, sir? + +Captain +The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras. + +HAMLET +Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, +Or for some frontier? + +Captain +Truly to speak, and with no addition, +We go to gain a little patch of ground +That hath in it no profit but the name. +To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; +Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole +A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. + +HAMLET +Why, then the Polack never will defend it. + +Captain +Yes, it is already garrison'd. + +HAMLET +Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats +Will not debate the question of this straw: +This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace, +That inward breaks, and shows no cause without +Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir. + +All's Well That Ends Well +Shakespeare homepage | All's Well That Ends Well | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black +COUNTESS +In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. + +BERTRAM +And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death +anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to +whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. + +LAFEU +You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, +sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times +good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose +worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather +than lack it where there is such abundance. + +COUNTESS +What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? + +LAFEU +He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose +practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and +finds no other advantage in the process but only the +losing of hope by time. + +COUNTESS +This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that +'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was +almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so +far, would have made nature immortal, and death +should have play for lack of work. Would, for the +king's sake, he were living! I think it would be +the death of the king's disease. + +LAFEU +How called you the man you speak of, madam? + +COUNTESS +He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was +his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + +LAFEU +He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very +lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he +was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge +could be set up against mortality. + +BERTRAM +What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? + +LAFEU +A fistula, my lord. + +BERTRAM +I heard not of it before. + +LAFEU +I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman +the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + +COUNTESS +His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my +overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that +her education promises; her dispositions she +inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where +an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there +commendations go with pity; they are virtues and +traitors too; in her they are the better for their +simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. + +LAFEU +Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. + +COUNTESS +'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise +in. The remembrance of her father never approaches +her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all +livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; +go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect +a sorrow than have it. + +HELENA +I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + +LAFEU +Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessive grief the enemy to the living. + +COUNTESS +If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess +makes it soon mortal. + +BERTRAM +Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + +LAFEU +How understand we that? + +COUNTESS +Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father +In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue +Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness +Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, +Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy +Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend +Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence, +But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, +That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, +Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; +'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, +Advise him. + +LAFEU +He cannot want the best +That shall attend his love. + +COUNTESS +Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +[To HELENA] The best wishes that can be forged in +your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable +to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. + +LAFEU +Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of +your father. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU + +HELENA +O, were that all! I think not on my father; +And these great tears grace his remembrance more +Than those I shed for him. What was he like? +I have forgot him: my imagination +Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. +I am undone: there is no living, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one +That I should love a bright particular star +And think to wed it, he is so above me: +In his bright radiance and collateral light +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. +The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: +The hind that would be mated by the lion +Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague, +To see him every hour; to sit and draw +His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, +In our heart's table; heart too capable +Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy +Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +Enter PAROLLES + +Aside + +One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; +And yet I know him a notorious liar, +Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; +Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, +That they take place, when virtue's steely bones +Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see +Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + +PAROLLES +Save you, fair queen! + +HELENA +And you, monarch! + +PAROLLES +No. + +HELENA +And no. + +PAROLLES +Are you meditating on virginity? + +HELENA +Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me +ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how +may we barricado it against him? + +PAROLLES +Keep him out. + +HELENA +But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, +in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some +warlike resistance. + +PAROLLES +There is none: man, sitting down before you, will +undermine you and blow you up. + +HELENA +Bless our poor virginity from underminers and +blowers up! Is there no military policy, how +virgins might blow up men? + +PAROLLES +Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be +blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with +the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It +is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to +preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational +increase and there was never virgin got till +virginity was first lost. That you were made of is +metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost +may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is +ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't! + +HELENA +I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. + +PAROLLES +There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the +rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, +is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible +disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: +virginity murders itself and should be buried in +highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate +offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, +much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very +paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. +Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of +self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the +canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose +by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make +itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the +principal itself not much the worse: away with 't! + +HELENA +How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? + +PAROLLES +Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it +likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with +lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't +while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. +Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out +of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just +like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not +now. Your date is better in your pie and your +porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, +your old virginity, is like one of our French +withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, +'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; +marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it? + +HELENA +Not my virginity yet [ ] +There shall your master have a thousand loves, +A mother and a mistress and a friend, +A phoenix, captain and an enemy, +A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, +A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; +His humble ambition, proud humility, +His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, +His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world +Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- +I know not what he shall. God send him well! +The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + +PAROLLES +What one, i' faith? + +HELENA +That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + +PAROLLES +What's pity? + +HELENA +That wishing well had not a body in't, +Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, +Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends, +And show what we alone must think, which never +Return us thanks. + +Enter Page + +Page +Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I +will think of thee at court. + +HELENA +Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. + +PAROLLES +Under Mars, I. + +HELENA +I especially think, under Mars. + +PAROLLES +Why under Mars? + +HELENA +The wars have so kept you under that you must needs +be born under Mars. + +PAROLLES +When he was predominant. + +HELENA +When he was retrograde, I think, rather. + +PAROLLES +Why think you so? + +HELENA +You go so much backward when you fight. + +PAROLLES +That's for advantage. + +HELENA +So is running away, when fear proposes the safety; +but the composition that your valour and fear makes +in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. + +PAROLLES +I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee +acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the +which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize +thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's +counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon +thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and +thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When +thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast +none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, +and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell. + +Exit + +HELENA +Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, +Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky +Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull +Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. +What power is it which mounts my love so high, +That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune nature brings +To join like likes and kiss like native things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose +What hath been cannot be: who ever strove +So show her merit, that did miss her love? +The king's disease--my project may deceive me, +But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and divers Attendants +KING +The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; +Have fought with equal fortune and continue +A braving war. + +First Lord +So 'tis reported, sir. + +KING +Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it +A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, +With caution that the Florentine will move us +For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend +Prejudicates the business and would seem +To have us make denial. + +First Lord +His love and wisdom, +Approved so to your majesty, may plead +For amplest credence. + +KING +He hath arm'd our answer, +And Florence is denied before he comes: +Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see +The Tuscan service, freely have they leave +To stand on either part. + +Second Lord +It well may serve +A nursery to our gentry, who are sick +For breathing and exploit. + +KING +What's he comes here? + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + +First Lord +It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, +Young Bertram. + +KING +Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; +Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, +Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts +Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. + +BERTRAM +My thanks and duty are your majesty's. + +KING +I would I had that corporal soundness now, +As when thy father and myself in friendship +First tried our soldiership! He did look far +Into the service of the time and was +Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; +But on us both did haggish age steal on +And wore us out of act. It much repairs me +To talk of your good father. In his youth +He had the wit which I can well observe +To-day in our young lords; but they may jest +Till their own scorn return to them unnoted +Ere they can hide their levity in honour; +So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness +Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, +His equal had awaked them, and his honour, +Clock to itself, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speak, and at this time +His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him +He used as creatures of another place +And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, +Making them proud of his humility, +In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man +Might be a copy to these younger times; +Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward. + +BERTRAM +His good remembrance, sir, +Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; +So in approof lives not his epitaph +As in your royal speech. + +KING +Would I were with him! He would always say-- +Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words +He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, +To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'-- +This his good melancholy oft began, +On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, +When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he, +'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff +Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses +All but new things disdain; whose judgments are +Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies +Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd; +I after him do after him wish too, +Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, +I quickly were dissolved from my hive, +To give some labourers room. + +Second Lord +You are loved, sir: +They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + +KING +I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, +Since the physician at your father's died? +He was much famed. + +BERTRAM +Some six months since, my lord. + +KING +If he were living, I would try him yet. +Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out +With several applications; nature and sickness +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; +My son's no dearer. + +BERTRAM +Thank your majesty. + +Exeunt. Flourish + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown +COUNTESS +I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? + +Steward +Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I +wish might be found in the calendar of my past +endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make +foul the clearness of our deservings, when of +ourselves we publish them. + +COUNTESS +What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: +the complaints I have heard of you I do not all +believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know +you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability +enough to make such knaveries yours. + +Clown +'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. + +COUNTESS +Well, sir. + +Clown +No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though +many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have +your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel +the woman and I will do as we may. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + +Clown +I do beg your good will in this case. + +COUNTESS +In what case? + +Clown +In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no +heritage: and I think I shall never have the +blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for +they say barnes are blessings. + +COUNTESS +Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + +Clown +My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on +by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. + +COUNTESS +Is this all your worship's reason? + +Clown +Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they +are. + +COUNTESS +May the world know them? + +Clown +I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and +all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry +that I may repent. + +COUNTESS +Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. + +Clown +I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have +friends for my wife's sake. + +COUNTESS +Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + +Clown +You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the +knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. +He that ears my land spares my team and gives me +leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my +drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher +of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh +and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my +flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses +my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to +be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; +for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the +Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in +religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl +horns together, like any deer i' the herd. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? + +Clown +A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next +way: +For I the ballad will repeat, +Which men full true shall find; +Your marriage comes by destiny, +Your cuckoo sings by kind. + +COUNTESS +Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. + +Steward +May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to +you: of her I am to speak. + +COUNTESS +Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; +Helen, I mean. + +Clown +Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, +Why the Grecians sacked Troy? +Fond done, done fond, +Was this King Priam's joy? +With that she sighed as she stood, +With that she sighed as she stood, +And gave this sentence then; +Among nine bad if one be good, +Among nine bad if one be good, +There's yet one good in ten. + +COUNTESS +What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. + +Clown +One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying +o' the song: would God would serve the world so all +the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman, +if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we +might have a good woman born but one every blazing +star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery +well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck +one. + +COUNTESS +You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you. + +Clown +That man should be at woman's command, and yet no +hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it +will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of +humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am +going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +Well, now. + +Steward +I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. + +COUNTESS +Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and +she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully +make title to as much love as she finds: there is +more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid +her than she'll demand. + +Steward +Madam, I was very late more near her than I think +she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate +to herself her own words to her own ears; she +thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any +stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: +Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put +such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no +god, that would not extend his might, only where +qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that +would suffer her poor knight surprised, without +rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. +This she delivered in the most bitter touch of +sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I +held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; +sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns +you something to know it. + +COUNTESS +You have discharged this honestly; keep it to +yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this +before, which hung so tottering in the balance that +I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, +leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you +for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. + +Exit Steward + +Enter HELENA + +Even so it was with me when I was young: +If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn +Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; +Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; +It is the show and seal of nature's truth, +Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: +By our remembrances of days foregone, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. +Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now. + +HELENA +What is your pleasure, madam? + +COUNTESS +You know, Helen, +I am a mother to you. + +HELENA +Mine honourable mistress. + +COUNTESS +Nay, a mother: +Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,' +Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,' +That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; +And put you in the catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen +Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds +A native slip to us from foreign seeds: +You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, +Yet I express to you a mother's care: +God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, +That this distemper'd messenger of wet, +The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? +Why? that you are my daughter? + +HELENA +That I am not. + +COUNTESS +I say, I am your mother. + +HELENA +Pardon, madam; +The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: +I am from humble, he from honour'd name; +No note upon my parents, his all noble: +My master, my dear lord he is; and I +His servant live, and will his vassal die: +He must not be my brother. + +COUNTESS +Nor I your mother? + +HELENA +You are my mother, madam; would you were,-- +So that my lord your son were not my brother,-- +Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for than I do for heaven, +So I were not his sister. Can't no other, +But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + +COUNTESS +Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: +God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother +So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? +My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see +The mystery of your loneliness, and find +Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross +You love my son; invention is ashamed, +Against the proclamation of thy passion, +To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; +But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks +Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes +See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors +That in their kind they speak it: only sin +And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, +That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? +If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; +If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, +As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, +Tell me truly. + +HELENA +Good madam, pardon me! + +COUNTESS +Do you love my son? + +HELENA +Your pardon, noble mistress! + +COUNTESS +Love you my son? + +HELENA +Do not you love him, madam? + +COUNTESS +Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, +Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose +The state of your affection; for your passions +Have to the full appeach'd. + +HELENA +Then, I confess, +Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, +That before you, and next unto high heaven, +I love your son. +My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: +Be not offended; for it hurts not him +That he is loved of me: I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suit; +Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; +Yet never know how that desert should be. +I know I love in vain, strive against hope; +Yet in this captious and intenible sieve +I still pour in the waters of my love +And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, +Religious in mine error, I adore +The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, +But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, +Let not your hate encounter with my love +For loving where you do: but if yourself, +Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, +Did ever in so true a flame of liking +Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian +Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity +To her, whose state is such that cannot choose +But lend and give where she is sure to lose; +That seeks not to find that her search implies, +But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! + +COUNTESS +Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,-- +To go to Paris? + +HELENA +Madam, I had. + +COUNTESS +Wherefore? tell true. + +HELENA +I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. +You know my father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience had collected +For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me +In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them, +As notes whose faculties inclusive were +More than they were in note: amongst the rest, +There is a remedy, approved, set down, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The king is render'd lost. + +COUNTESS +This was your motive +For Paris, was it? speak. + +HELENA +My lord your son made me to think of this; +Else Paris and the medicine and the king +Had from the conversation of my thoughts +Haply been absent then. + +COUNTESS +But think you, Helen, +If you should tender your supposed aid, +He would receive it? he and his physicians +Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, +They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit +A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, +Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off +The danger to itself? + +HELENA +There's something in't, +More than my father's skill, which was the greatest +Of his profession, that his good receipt +Shall for my legacy be sanctified +By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour +But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture +The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure +By such a day and hour. + +COUNTESS +Dost thou believe't? + +HELENA +Ay, madam, knowingly. + +COUNTESS +Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, +Means and attendants and my loving greetings +To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home +And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: +Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, +What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES +KING +Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles +Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: +Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all +The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received, +And is enough for both. + +First Lord +'Tis our hope, sir, +After well enter'd soldiers, to return +And find your grace in health. + +KING +No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart +Will not confess he owes the malady +That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; +Whether I live or die, be you the sons +Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- +Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last monarchy,--see that you come +Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when +The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, +That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell. + +Second Lord +Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! + +KING +Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: +They say, our French lack language to deny, +If they demand: beware of being captives, +Before you serve. + +Both +Our hearts receive your warnings. + +KING +Farewell. Come hither to me. + +Exit, attended + +First Lord +O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + +PAROLLES +'Tis not his fault, the spark. + +Second Lord +O, 'tis brave wars! + +PAROLLES +Most admirable: I have seen those wars. + +BERTRAM +I am commanded here, and kept a coil with +'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.' + +PAROLLES +An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely. + +BERTRAM +I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, +Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, +Till honour be bought up and no sword worn +But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. + +First Lord +There's honour in the theft. + +PAROLLES +Commit it, count. + +Second Lord +I am your accessary; and so, farewell. + +BERTRAM +I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. + +First Lord +Farewell, captain. + +Second Lord +Sweet Monsieur Parolles! + +PAROLLES +Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good +sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall +find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain +Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here +on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword +entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his +reports for me. + +First Lord +We shall, noble captain. + +Exeunt Lords + +PAROLLES +Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do? + +BERTRAM +Stay: the king. + +Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the +noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the +list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to +them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the +time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and +move under the influence of the most received star; +and though the devil lead the measure, such are to +be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. + +BERTRAM +And I will do so. + +PAROLLES +Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES + +Enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + +KING +I'll fee thee to stand up. + +LAFEU +Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon. +I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + +KING +I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, +And ask'd thee mercy for't. + +LAFEU +Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus; +Will you be cured of your infirmity? + +KING +No. + +LAFEU +O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? +Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if +My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine +That's able to breathe life into a stone, +Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary +With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, +Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, +To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, +And write to her a love-line. + +KING +What 'her' is this? + +LAFEU +Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived, +If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, +If seriously I may convey my thoughts +In this my light deliverance, I have spoke +With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, +Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more +Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her +For that is her demand, and know her business? +That done, laugh well at me. + +KING +Now, good Lafeu, +Bring in the admiration; that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wondering how thou took'st it. + +LAFEU +Nay, I'll fit you, +And not be all day neither. + +Exit + +KING +Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + +Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways. + +KING +This haste hath wings indeed. + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways: +This is his majesty; say your mind to him: +A traitor you do look like; but such traitors +His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, +That dare leave two together; fare you well. + +Exit + +KING +Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + +HELENA +Ay, my good lord. +Gerard de Narbon was my father; +In what he did profess, well found. + +KING +I knew him. + +HELENA +The rather will I spare my praises towards him: +Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death +Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. +Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, +And of his old experience the oily darling, +He bade me store up, as a triple eye, +Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; +And hearing your high majesty is touch'd +With that malignant cause wherein the honour +Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, +I come to tender it and my appliance +With all bound humbleness. + +KING +We thank you, maiden; +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned doctors leave us and +The congregated college have concluded +That labouring art can never ransom nature +From her inaidible estate; I say we must not +So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, +To prostitute our past-cure malady +To empirics, or to dissever so +Our great self and our credit, to esteem +A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + +HELENA +My duty then shall pay me for my pains: +I will no more enforce mine office on you. +Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts +A modest one, to bear me back a again. + +KING +I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: +Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give +As one near death to those that wish him live: +But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, +I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + +HELENA +What I can do can do no hurt to try, +Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. +He that of greatest works is finisher +Oft does them by the weakest minister: +So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, +When judges have been babes; great floods have flown +From simple sources, and great seas have dried +When miracles have by the greatest been denied. +Oft expectation fails and most oft there +Where most it promises, and oft it hits +Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. + +KING +I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; +Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: +Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + +HELENA +Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: +It is not so with Him that all things knows +As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; +But most it is presumption in us when +The help of heaven we count the act of men. +Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; +Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an impostor that proclaim +Myself against the level of mine aim; +But know I think and think I know most sure +My art is not past power nor you past cure. + +KING +Are thou so confident? within what space +Hopest thou my cure? + +HELENA +The great'st grace lending grace +Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, +Ere twice in murk and occidental damp +Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, +Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass +Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, +What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, +Health shall live free and sickness freely die. + +KING +Upon thy certainty and confidence +What darest thou venture? + +HELENA +Tax of impudence, +A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame +Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name +Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended +With vilest torture let my life be ended. + +KING +Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerful sound within an organ weak: +And what impossibility would slay +In common sense, sense saves another way. +Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate +Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, +Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all +That happiness and prime can happy call: +Thou this to hazard needs must intimate +Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. +Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, +That ministers thine own death if I die. + +HELENA +If I break time, or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, +And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee; +But, if I help, what do you promise me? + +KING +Make thy demand. + +HELENA +But will you make it even? + +KING +Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. + +HELENA +Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command: +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royal blood of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state; +But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know +Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + +KING +Here is my hand; the premises observed, +Thy will by my performance shall be served: +So make the choice of thy own time, for I, +Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. +More should I question thee, and more I must, +Though more to know could not be more to trust, +From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest +Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. +Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed +As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of +your breeding. + +Clown +I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I +know my business is but to the court. + +COUNTESS +To the court! why, what place make you special, +when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! + +Clown +Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he +may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make +a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, +has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed +such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the +court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all +men. + +COUNTESS +Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all +questions. + +Clown +It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, +the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn +buttock, or any buttock. + +COUNTESS +Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + +Clown +As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, +as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's +rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove +Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his +hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen +to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the +friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + +COUNTESS +Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all +questions? + +Clown +From below your duke to beneath your constable, it +will fit any question. + +COUNTESS +It must be an answer of most monstrous size that +must fit all demands. + +Clown +But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned +should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that +belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall +do you no harm to learn. + +COUNTESS +To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in +question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I +pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + +Clown +O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, +more, a hundred of them. + +COUNTESS +Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. + +COUNTESS +I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. + +COUNTESS +You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! spare not me. + +COUNTESS +Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and +'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very +sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well +to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. + +Clown +I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, +sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. + +COUNTESS +I play the noble housewife with the time +To entertain't so merrily with a fool. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. + +COUNTESS +An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this, +And urge her to a present answer back: +Commend me to my kinsmen and my son: +This is not much. + +Clown +Not much commendation to them. + +COUNTESS +Not much employment for you: you understand me? + +Clown +Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. + +COUNTESS +Haste you again. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE III. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES +LAFEU +They say miracles are past; and we have our +philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, +things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that +we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves +into seeming knowledge, when we should submit +ourselves to an unknown fear. + +PAROLLES +Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath +shot out in our latter times. + +BERTRAM +And so 'tis. + +LAFEU +To be relinquish'd of the artists,-- + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Both of Galen and Paracelsus. + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Of all the learned and authentic fellows,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; so I say. + +LAFEU +That gave him out incurable,-- + +PAROLLES +Why, there 'tis; so say I too. + +LAFEU +Not to be helped,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a-- + +LAFEU +Uncertain life, and sure death. + +PAROLLES +Just, you say well; so would I have said. + +LAFEU +I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. + +PAROLLES +It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you +shall read it in--what do you call there? + +LAFEU +A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. + +PAROLLES +That's it; I would have said the very same. + +LAFEU +Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, +I speak in respect-- + +PAROLLES +Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the +brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most +facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the-- + +LAFEU +Very hand of heaven. + +PAROLLES +Ay, so I say. + +LAFEU +In a most weak-- + +pausing + +and debile minister, great power, great +transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a +further use to be made than alone the recovery of +the king, as to be-- + +pausing + +generally thankful. + +PAROLLES +I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. + +Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and PAROLLES retire + +LAFEU +Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the +better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's +able to lead her a coranto. + +PAROLLES +Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? + +LAFEU +'Fore God, I think so. + +KING +Go, call before me all the lords in court. +Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; +And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense +Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive +The confirmation of my promised gift, +Which but attends thy naming. + +Enter three or four Lords + +Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel +Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, +O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice +I have to use: thy frank election make; +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + +HELENA +To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress +Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one! + +LAFEU +I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture, +My mouth no more were broken than these boys', +And writ as little beard. + +KING +Peruse them well: +Not one of those but had a noble father. + +HELENA +Gentlemen, +Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. + +All +We understand it, and thank heaven for you. + +HELENA +I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest, +That I protest I simply am a maid. +Please it your majesty, I have done already: +The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, +'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused, +Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; +We'll ne'er come there again.' + +KING +Make choice; and, see, +Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + +HELENA +Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, +And to imperial Love, that god most high, +Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit? + +First Lord +And grant it. + +HELENA +Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. + +LAFEU +I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace +for my life. + +HELENA +The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, +Before I speak, too threateningly replies: +Love make your fortunes twenty times above +Her that so wishes and her humble love! + +Second Lord +No better, if you please. + +HELENA +My wish receive, +Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave. + +LAFEU +Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, +I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the +Turk, to make eunuchs of. + +HELENA +Be not afraid that I your hand should take; +I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: +Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed +Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! + +LAFEU +These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: +sure, they are bastards to the English; the French +ne'er got 'em. + +HELENA +You are too young, too happy, and too good, +To make yourself a son out of my blood. + +Fourth Lord +Fair one, I think not so. + +LAFEU +There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk +wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth +of fourteen; I have known thee already. + +HELENA +[To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give +Me and my service, ever whilst I live, +Into your guiding power. This is the man. + +KING +Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. + +BERTRAM +My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, +In such a business give me leave to use +The help of mine own eyes. + +KING +Know'st thou not, Bertram, +What she has done for me? + +BERTRAM +Yes, my good lord; +But never hope to know why I should marry her. + +KING +Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + +BERTRAM +But follows it, my lord, to bring me down +Must answer for your raising? I know her well: +She had her breeding at my father's charge. +A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain +Rather corrupt me ever! + +KING +'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which +I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, +Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, +Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off +In differences so mighty. If she be +All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, +A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest +Of virtue for the name: but do not so: +From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by the doer's deed: +Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, +It is a dropsied honour. Good alone +Is good without a name. Vileness is so: +The property by what it is should go, +Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; +In these to nature she's immediate heir, +And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, +Which challenges itself as honour's born +And is not like the sire: honours thrive, +When rather from our acts we them derive +Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave +Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave +A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb +Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb +Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? +If thou canst like this creature as a maid, +I can create the rest: virtue and she +Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. + +BERTRAM +I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. + +KING +Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. + +HELENA +That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: +Let the rest go. + +KING +My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, +I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, +Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; +That dost in vile misprision shackle up +My love and her desert; that canst not dream, +We, poising us in her defective scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, +It is in us to plant thine honour where +We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt: +Obey our will, which travails in thy good: +Believe not thy disdain, but presently +Do thine own fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy duty owes and our power claims; +Or I will throw thee from my care for ever +Into the staggers and the careless lapse +Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate +Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice, +Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. + +BERTRAM +Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit +My fancy to your eyes: when I consider +What great creation and what dole of honour +Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late +Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now +The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, +Is as 'twere born so. + +KING +Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise +A counterpoise, if not to thy estate +A balance more replete. + +BERTRAM +I take her hand. + +KING +Good fortune and the favour of the king +Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony +Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, +And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast +Shall more attend upon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her, +Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. + +Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES + +LAFEU +[Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. + +PAROLLES +Your pleasure, sir? + +LAFEU +Your lord and master did well to make his +recantation. + +PAROLLES +Recantation! My lord! my master! + +LAFEU +Ay; is it not a language I speak? + +PAROLLES +A most harsh one, and not to be understood without +bloody succeeding. My master! + +LAFEU +Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? + +PAROLLES +To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + +LAFEU +To what is count's man: count's master is of +another style. + +PAROLLES +You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. + +LAFEU +I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which +title age cannot bring thee. + +PAROLLES +What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + +LAFEU +I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty +wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy +travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the +bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from +believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I +have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care +not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and +that thou't scarce worth. + +PAROLLES +Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,-- + +LAFEU +Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou +hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee +for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee +well: thy casement I need not open, for I look +through thee. Give me thy hand. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. + +LAFEU +Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. + +PAROLLES +I have not, my lord, deserved it. + +LAFEU +Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not +bate thee a scruple. + +PAROLLES +Well, I shall be wiser. + +LAFEU +Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at +a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound +in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is +to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold +my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, +that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. + +LAFEU +I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor +doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by +thee, in what motion age will give me leave. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off +me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must +be patient; there is no fettering of authority. +I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with +any convenience, an he were double and double a +lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I +would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + +Re-enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news +for you: you have a new mistress. + +PAROLLES +I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make +some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good +lord: whom I serve above is my master. + +LAFEU +Who? God? + +PAROLLES +Ay, sir. + +LAFEU +The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou +garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of +sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set +thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine +honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat +thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and +every man should beat thee: I think thou wast +created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + +PAROLLES +This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. + +LAFEU +Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a +kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and +no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords +and honourable personages than the commission of your +birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not +worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; +let it be concealed awhile. + +Re-enter BERTRAM + +BERTRAM +Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! + +PAROLLES +What's the matter, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, +I will not bed her. + +PAROLLES +What, what, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +O my Parolles, they have married me! +I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. + +PAROLLES +France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits +The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! + +BERTRAM +There's letters from my mother: what the import is, +I know not yet. + +PAROLLES +Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! +He wears his honour in a box unseen, +That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, +Spending his manly marrow in her arms, +Which should sustain the bound and high curvet +Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions +France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades; +Therefore, to the war! + +BERTRAM +It shall be so: I'll send her to my house, +Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, +And wherefore I am fled; write to the king +That which I durst not speak; his present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, +Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife +To the dark house and the detested wife. + +PAROLLES +Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? + +BERTRAM +Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. +I'll send her straight away: to-morrow +I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + +PAROLLES +Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: +A young man married is a man that's marr'd: +Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: +The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter HELENA and Clown +HELENA +My mother greets me kindly; is she well? + +Clown +She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's +very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be +given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the +world; but yet she is not well. + +HELENA +If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's +not very well? + +Clown +Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + +HELENA +What two things? + +Clown +One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her +quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence +God send her quickly! + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Bless you, my fortunate lady! + +HELENA +I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own +good fortunes. + +PAROLLES +You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them +on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady? + +Clown +So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, +I would she did as you say. + +PAROLLES +Why, I say nothing. + +Clown +Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's +tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say +nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have +nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which +is within a very little of nothing. + +PAROLLES +Away! thou'rt a knave. + +Clown +You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a +knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had +been truth, sir. + +PAROLLES +Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. + +Clown +Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you +taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; +and much fool may you find in you, even to the +world's pleasure and the increase of laughter. + +PAROLLES +A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. +Madam, my lord will go away to-night; +A very serious business calls on him. +The great prerogative and rite of love, +Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; +But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; +Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, +Which they distil now in the curbed time, +To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy +And pleasure drown the brim. + +HELENA +What's his will else? + +PAROLLES +That you will take your instant leave o' the king +And make this haste as your own good proceeding, +Strengthen'd with what apology you think +May make it probable need. + +HELENA +What more commands he? + +PAROLLES +That, having this obtain'd, you presently +Attend his further pleasure. + +HELENA +In every thing I wait upon his will. + +PAROLLES +I shall report it so. + +HELENA +I pray you. + +Exit PAROLLES + +Come, sirrah. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM +LAFEU +But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. + +BERTRAM +Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + +LAFEU +You have it from his own deliverance. + +BERTRAM +And by other warranted testimony. + +LAFEU +Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting. + +BERTRAM +I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in +knowledge and accordingly valiant. + +LAFEU +I have then sinned against his experience and +transgressed against his valour; and my state that +way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my +heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make +us friends; I will pursue the amity. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir. + +LAFEU +Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + +PAROLLES +Sir? + +LAFEU +O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good +workman, a very good tailor. + +BERTRAM +[Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the king? + +PAROLLES +She is. + +BERTRAM +Will she away to-night? + +PAROLLES +As you'll have her. + +BERTRAM +I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, +Given order for our horses; and to-night, +When I should take possession of the bride, +End ere I do begin. + +LAFEU +A good traveller is something at the latter end of a +dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a +known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should +be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain. + +BERTRAM +Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? + +PAROLLES +I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's +displeasure. + +LAFEU +You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs +and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and +out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer +question for your residence. + +BERTRAM +It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + +LAFEU +And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's +prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this +of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the +soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in +matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them +tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur: +I have spoken better of you than you have or will to +deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +An idle lord. I swear. + +BERTRAM +I think so. + +PAROLLES +Why, do you not know him? + +BERTRAM +Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. + +Enter HELENA + +HELENA +I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, +Spoke with the king and have procured his leave +For present parting; only he desires +Some private speech with you. + +BERTRAM +I shall obey his will. +You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, +Which holds not colour with the time, nor does +The ministration and required office +On my particular. Prepared I was not +For such a business; therefore am I found +So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you +That presently you take our way for home; +And rather muse than ask why I entreat you, +For my respects are better than they seem +And my appointments have in them a need +Greater than shows itself at the first view +To you that know them not. This to my mother: + +Giving a letter + +'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so +I leave you to your wisdom. + +HELENA +Sir, I can nothing say, +But that I am your most obedient servant. + +BERTRAM +Come, come, no more of that. + +HELENA +And ever shall +With true observance seek to eke out that +Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd +To equal my great fortune. + +BERTRAM +Let that go: +My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. + +HELENA +Pray, sir, your pardon. + +BERTRAM +Well, what would you say? + +HELENA +I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; +But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal +What law does vouch mine own. + +BERTRAM +What would you have? + +HELENA +Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed. +I would not tell you what I would, my lord: +Faith yes; +Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. + +BERTRAM +I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. + +HELENA +I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. + +BERTRAM +Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. + +Exit HELENA + +Go thou toward home; where I will never come +Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. +Away, and for our flight. + +PAROLLES +Bravely, coragio! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Florence. The DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended; the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. +DUKE +So that from point to point now have you heard +The fundamental reasons of this war, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after. + +First Lord +Holy seems the quarrel +Upon your grace's part; black and fearful +On the opposer. + +DUKE +Therefore we marvel much our cousin France +Would in so just a business shut his bosom +Against our borrowing prayers. + +Second Lord +Good my lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yield, +But like a common and an outward man, +That the great figure of a council frames +By self-unable motion: therefore dare not +Say what I think of it, since I have found +Myself in my incertain grounds to fail +As often as I guess'd. + +DUKE +Be it his pleasure. + +First Lord +But I am sure the younger of our nature, +That surfeit on their ease, will day by day +Come here for physic. + +DUKE +Welcome shall they be; +And all the honours that can fly from us +Shall on them settle. You know your places well; +When better fall, for your avails they fell: +To-morrow to the field. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +It hath happened all as I would have had it, save +that he comes not along with her. + +Clown +By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very +melancholy man. + +COUNTESS +By what observance, I pray you? + +Clown +Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the +ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his +teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of +melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + +COUNTESS +Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. + +Opening a letter + +Clown +I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our +old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing +like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: +the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to +love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + +COUNTESS +What have we here? + +Clown +E'en that you have there. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +[Reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath +recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded +her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' +eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it +before the report come. If there be breadth enough +in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty +to you. Your unfortunate son, +BERTRAM. +This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. +To fly the favours of so good a king; +To pluck his indignation on thy head +By the misprising of a maid too virtuous +For the contempt of empire. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two +soldiers and my young lady! + +COUNTESS +What is the matter? + +Clown +Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some +comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I +thought he would. + +COUNTESS +Why should he be killed? + +Clown +So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: +the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of +men, though it be the getting of children. Here +they come will tell you more: for my part, I only +hear your son was run away. + +Exit + +Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen + +First Gentleman +Save you, good madam. + +HELENA +Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. + +Second Gentleman +Do not say so. + +COUNTESS +Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen, +I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, +That the first face of neither, on the start, +Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? + +Second Gentleman +Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: +We met him thitherward; for thence we came, +And, after some dispatch in hand at court, +Thither we bend again. + +HELENA +Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. + +Reads + +When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which +never shall come off, and show me a child begotten +of thy body that I am father to, then call me +husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' +This is a dreadful sentence. + +COUNTESS +Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam; +And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. + +COUNTESS +I prithee, lady, have a better cheer; +If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, +Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? + +Second Gentleman +Ay, madam. + +COUNTESS +And to be a soldier? + +Second Gentleman +Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't, +The duke will lay upon him all the honour +That good convenience claims. + +COUNTESS +Return you thither? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + +HELENA +[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. +'Tis bitter. + +COUNTESS +Find you that there? + +HELENA +Ay, madam. + +First Gentleman +'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his +heart was not consenting to. + +COUNTESS +Nothing in France, until he have no wife! +There's nothing here that is too good for him +But only she; and she deserves a lord +That twenty such rude boys might tend upon +And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + +First Gentleman +A servant only, and a gentleman +Which I have sometime known. + +COUNTESS +Parolles, was it not? + +First Gentleman +Ay, my good lady, he. + +COUNTESS +A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. +My son corrupts a well-derived nature +With his inducement. + +First Gentleman +Indeed, good lady, +The fellow has a deal of that too much, +Which holds him much to have. + +COUNTESS +You're welcome, gentlemen. +I will entreat you, when you see my son, +To tell him that his sword can never win +The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you +Written to bear along. + +Second Gentleman +We serve you, madam, +In that and all your worthiest affairs. + +COUNTESS +Not so, but as we change our courtesies. +Will you draw near! + +Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen + +HELENA +'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.' +Nothing in France, until he has no wife! +Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; +Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I +That chase thee from thy country and expose +Those tender limbs of thine to the event +Of the none-sparing war? and is it I +That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou +Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark +Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, +That ride upon the violent speed of fire, +Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, +That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. +Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; +Whoever charges on his forward breast, +I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; +And, though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected: better 'twere +I met the ravin lion when he roar'd +With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, +Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, +As oft it loses all: I will be gone; +My being here it is that holds thee hence: +Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although +The air of paradise did fan the house +And angels officed all: I will be gone, +That pitiful rumour may report my flight, +To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! +For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets +DUKE +The general of our horse thou art; and we, +Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence +Upon thy promising fortune. + +BERTRAM +Sir, it is +A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet +We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake +To the extreme edge of hazard. + +DUKE +Then go thou forth; +And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, +As thy auspicious mistress! + +BERTRAM +This very day, +Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove +A lover of thy drum, hater of love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Steward +COUNTESS +Alas! and would you take the letter of her? +Might you not know she would do as she has done, +By sending me a letter? Read it again. + +Steward +[Reads] +I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: +Ambitious love hath so in me offended, +That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, +With sainted vow my faults to have amended. +Write, write, that from the bloody course of war +My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: +Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far +His name with zealous fervor sanctify: +His taken labours bid him me forgive; +I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth +From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, +Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: +He is too good and fair for death and me: +Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. + +COUNTESS +Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! +Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, +As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, +I could have well diverted her intents, +Which thus she hath prevented. + +Steward +Pardon me, madam: +If I had given you this at over-night, +She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, +Pursuit would be but vain. + +COUNTESS +What angel shall +Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, +Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear +And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath +Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, +To this unworthy husband of his wife; +Let every word weigh heavy of her worth +That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. +Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. +Dispatch the most convenient messenger: +When haply he shall hear that she is gone, +He will return; and hope I may that she, +Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, +Led hither by pure love: which of them both +Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense +To make distinction: provide this messenger: +My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; +Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off. + +Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other Citizens +Widow +Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we +shall lose all the sight. + +DIANA +They say the French count has done most honourable service. + +Widow +It is reported that he has taken their greatest +commander; and that with his own hand he slew the +duke's brother. + +Tucket + +We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary +way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. + +MARIANA +Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with +the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this +French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and +no legacy is so rich as honesty. + +Widow +I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited +by a gentleman his companion. + +MARIANA +I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a +filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the +young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, +enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of +lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid +hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, +example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of +maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, +but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten +them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but +I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, +though there were no further danger known but the +modesty which is so lost. + +DIANA +You shall not need to fear me. + +Widow +I hope so. + +Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim + +Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at +my house; thither they send one another: I'll +question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? + +HELENA +To Saint Jaques le Grand. +Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + +Widow +At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + +HELENA +Is this the way? + +Widow +Ay, marry, is't. + +A march afar + +Hark you! they come this way. +If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, +But till the troops come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; +The rather, for I think I know your hostess +As ample as myself. + +HELENA +Is it yourself? + +Widow +If you shall please so, pilgrim. + +HELENA +I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + +Widow +You came, I think, from France? + +HELENA +I did so. + +Widow +Here you shall see a countryman of yours +That has done worthy service. + +HELENA +His name, I pray you. + +DIANA +The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? + +HELENA +But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: +His face I know not. + +DIANA +Whatsome'er he is, +He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, +As 'tis reported, for the king had married him +Against his liking: think you it is so? + +HELENA +Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. + +DIANA +There is a gentleman that serves the count +Reports but coarsely of her. + +HELENA +What's his name? + +DIANA +Monsieur Parolles. + +HELENA +O, I believe with him, +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great count himself, she is too mean +To have her name repeated: all her deserving +Is a reserved honesty, and that +I have not heard examined. + +DIANA +Alas, poor lady! +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting lord. + +Widow +I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, +Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her +A shrewd turn, if she pleased. + +HELENA +How do you mean? +May be the amorous count solicits her +In the unlawful purpose. + +Widow +He does indeed; +And brokes with all that can in such a suit +Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: +But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard +In honestest defence. + +MARIANA +The gods forbid else! + +Widow +So, now they come: + +Drum and Colours + +Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army + +That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; +That, Escalus. + +HELENA +Which is the Frenchman? + +DIANA +He; +That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. +I would he loved his wife: if he were honester +He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? + +HELENA +I like him well. + +DIANA +'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave +That leads him to these places: were I his lady, +I would Poison that vile rascal. + +HELENA +Which is he? + +DIANA +That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? + +HELENA +Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. + +PAROLLES +Lose our drum! well. + +MARIANA +He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. + +Widow +Marry, hang you! + +MARIANA +And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! + +Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army + +Widow +The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you +Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents +There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, +Already at my house. + +HELENA +I humbly thank you: +Please it this matron and this gentle maid +To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this virgin +Worthy the note. + +BOTH +We'll take your offer kindly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. + +Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords +Second Lord +Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his +way. + +First Lord +If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no +more in your respect. + +Second Lord +On my life, my lord, a bubble. + +BERTRAM +Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + +Second Lord +Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, +without any malice, but to speak of him as my +kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and +endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner +of no one good quality worthy your lordship's +entertainment. + +First Lord +It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in +his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some +great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. + +BERTRAM +I would I knew in what particular action to try him. + +First Lord +None better than to let him fetch off his drum, +which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. + +Second Lord +I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly +surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he +knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink +him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he +is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when +we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship +present at his examination: if he do not, for the +promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of +base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the +intelligence in his power against you, and that with +the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never +trust my judgment in any thing. + +First Lord +O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; +he says he has a stratagem for't: when your +lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to +what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be +melted, if you give him not John Drum's +entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. +Here he comes. + +Enter PAROLLES + +Second Lord +[Aside to BERTRAM] O, for the love of laughter, +hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch +off his drum in any hand. + +BERTRAM +How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your +disposition. + +First Lord +A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. + +PAROLLES +'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost! +There was excellent command,--to charge in with our +horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! + +First Lord +That was not to be blamed in the command of the +service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar +himself could not have prevented, if he had been +there to command. + +BERTRAM +Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some +dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is +not to be recovered. + +PAROLLES +It might have been recovered. + +BERTRAM +It might; but it is not now. + +PAROLLES +It is to be recovered: but that the merit of +service is seldom attributed to the true and exact +performer, I would have that drum or another, or +'hic jacet.' + +BERTRAM +Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you +think your mystery in stratagem can bring this +instrument of honour again into his native quarter, +be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will +grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you +speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. +and extend to you what further becomes his +greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your +worthiness. + +PAROLLES +By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + +BERTRAM +But you must not now slumber in it. + +PAROLLES +I'll about it this evening: and I will presently +pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my +certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; +and by midnight look to hear further from me. + +BERTRAM +May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? + +PAROLLES +I know not what the success will be, my lord; but +the attempt I vow. + +BERTRAM +I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of +thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + +PAROLLES +I love not many words. + +Exit + +Second Lord +No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a +strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems +to undertake this business, which he knows is not to +be done; damns himself to do and dares better be +damned than to do't? + +First Lord +You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it +is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and +for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but +when you find him out, you have him ever after. + +BERTRAM +Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of +this that so seriously he does address himself unto? + +Second Lord +None in the world; but return with an invention and +clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we +have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall +to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. + +First Lord +We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case +him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: +when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a +sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this +very night. + +Second Lord +I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. + +BERTRAM +Your brother he shall go along with me. + +Second Lord +As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +Now will I lead you to the house, and show you +The lass I spoke of. + +First Lord +But you say she's honest. + +BERTRAM +That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once +And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, +By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, +Tokens and letters which she did re-send; +And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: +Will you go see her? + +First Lord +With all my heart, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA and Widow +HELENA +If you misdoubt me that I am not she, +I know not how I shall assure you further, +But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + +Widow +Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses; +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act. + +HELENA +Nor would I wish you. +First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, +And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken +Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, +By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, +Err in bestowing it. + +Widow +I should believe you: +For you have show'd me that which well approves +You're great in fortune. + +HELENA +Take this purse of gold, +And let me buy your friendly help thus far, +Which I will over-pay and pay again +When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, +Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, +Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, +As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. +Now his important blood will nought deny +That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From son to son, some four or five descents +Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds +In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, +To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, +Howe'er repented after. + +Widow +Now I see +The bottom of your purpose. + +HELENA +You see it lawful, then: it is no more, +But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, +Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; +In fine, delivers me to fill the time, +Herself most chastely absent: after this, +To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns +To what is passed already. + +Widow +I have yielded: +Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, +That time and place with this deceit so lawful +May prove coherent. Every night he comes +With musics of all sorts and songs composed +To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us +To chide him from our eaves; for he persists +As if his life lay on't. + +HELENA +Why then to-night +Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed +And lawful meaning in a lawful act, +Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: +But let's about it. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. + +Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other Soldiers in ambush +Second Lord +He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. +When you sally upon him, speak what terrible +language you will: though you understand it not +yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to +understand him, unless some one among us whom we +must produce for an interpreter. + +First Soldier +Good captain, let me be the interpreter. + +Second Lord +Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? + +First Soldier +No, sir, I warrant you. + +Second Lord +But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? + +First Soldier +E'en such as you speak to me. + +Second Lord +He must think us some band of strangers i' the +adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of +all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every +one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we +speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to +know straight our purpose: choughs' language, +gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, +interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, +ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, +and then to return and swear the lies he forges. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be +time enough to go home. What shall I say I have +done? It must be a very plausive invention that +carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces +have of late knocked too often at my door. I find +my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the +fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not +daring the reports of my tongue. + +Second Lord +This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue +was guilty of. + +PAROLLES +What the devil should move me to undertake the +recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the +impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I +must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in +exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they +will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great +ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the +instance? Tongue, I must put you into a +butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of +Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. + +Second Lord +Is it possible he should know what he is, and be +that he is? + +PAROLLES +I would the cutting of my garments would serve the +turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. + +Second Lord +We cannot afford you so. + +PAROLLES +Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in +stratagem. + +Second Lord +'Twould not do. + +PAROLLES +Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. + +Second Lord +Hardly serve. + +PAROLLES +Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel. + +Second Lord +How deep? + +PAROLLES +Thirty fathom. + +Second Lord +Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. + +PAROLLES +I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear +I recovered it. + +Second Lord +You shall hear one anon. + +PAROLLES +A drum now of the enemy's,-- + +Alarum within + +Second Lord +Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. + +All +Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. + +PAROLLES +O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes. + +They seize and blindfold him + +First Soldier +Boskos thromuldo boskos. + +PAROLLES +I know you are the Muskos' regiment: +And I shall lose my life for want of language; +If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll +Discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + +First Soldier +Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak +thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy +faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. + +PAROLLES +O! + +First Soldier +O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche. + +Second Lord +Oscorbidulchos volivorco. + +First Soldier +The general is content to spare thee yet; +And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on +To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform +Something to save thy life. + +PAROLLES +O, let me live! +And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, +Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that +Which you will wonder at. + +First Soldier +But wilt thou faithfully? + +PAROLLES +If I do not, damn me. + +First Soldier +Acordo linta. +Come on; thou art granted space. + +Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within + +Second Lord +Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother, +We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled +Till we do hear from them. + +Second Soldier +Captain, I will. + +Second Lord +A' will betray us all unto ourselves: +Inform on that. + +Second Soldier +So I will, sir. + +Second Lord +Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter BERTRAM and DIANA +BERTRAM +They told me that your name was Fontibell. + +DIANA +No, my good lord, Diana. + +BERTRAM +Titled goddess; +And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, +In your fine frame hath love no quality? +If quick fire of youth light not your mind, +You are no maiden, but a monument: +When you are dead, you should be such a one +As you are now, for you are cold and stem; +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet self was got. + +DIANA +She then was honest. + +BERTRAM +So should you be. + +DIANA +No: +My mother did but duty; such, my lord, +As you owe to your wife. + +BERTRAM +No more o' that; +I prithee, do not strive against my vows: +I was compell'd to her; but I love thee +By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever +Do thee all rights of service. + +DIANA +Ay, so you serve us +Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, +You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves +And mock us with our bareness. + +BERTRAM +How have I sworn! + +DIANA +'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, +But the plain single vow that is vow'd true. +What is not holy, that we swear not by, +But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me, +If I should swear by God's great attributes, +I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, +When I did love you ill? This has no holding, +To swear by him whom I protest to love, +That I will work against him: therefore your oaths +Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd, +At least in my opinion. + +BERTRAM +Change it, change it; +Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; +And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts +That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, +But give thyself unto my sick desires, +Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever +My love as it begins shall so persever. + +DIANA +I see that men make ropes in such a scarre +That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + +BERTRAM +I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power +To give it from me. + +DIANA +Will you not, my lord? + +BERTRAM +It is an honour 'longing to our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose. + +DIANA +Mine honour's such a ring: +My chastity's the jewel of our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom +Brings in the champion Honour on my part, +Against your vain assault. + +BERTRAM +Here, take my ring: +My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, +And I'll be bid by thee. + +DIANA +When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: +I'll order take my mother shall not hear. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, +Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: +My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them +When back again this ring shall be deliver'd: +And on your finger in the night I'll put +Another ring, that what in time proceeds +May token to the future our past deeds. +Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won +A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + +BERTRAM +A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. + +Exit + +DIANA +For which live long to thank both heaven and me! +You may so in the end. +My mother told me just how he would woo, +As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men +Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me +When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, +Marry that will, I live and die a maid: +Only in this disguise I think't no sin +To cozen him that would unjustly win. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Florentine camp. + +Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers +First Lord +You have not given him his mother's letter? + +Second Lord +I have delivered it an hour since: there is +something in't that stings his nature; for on the +reading it he changed almost into another man. + +First Lord +He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking +off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + +Second Lord +Especially he hath incurred the everlasting +displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his +bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a +thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + +First Lord +When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the +grave of it. + +Second Lord +He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in +Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he +fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath +given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself +made in the unchaste composition. + +First Lord +Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, +what things are we! + +Second Lord +Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course +of all treasons, we still see them reveal +themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, +so he that in this action contrives against his own +nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. + +First Lord +Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of +our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his +company to-night? + +Second Lord +Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. + +First Lord +That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see +his company anatomized, that he might take a measure +of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had +set this counterfeit. + +Second Lord +We will not meddle with him till he come; for his +presence must be the whip of the other. + +First Lord +In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? + +Second Lord +I hear there is an overture of peace. + +First Lord +Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + +Second Lord +What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel +higher, or return again into France? + +First Lord +I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether +of his council. + +Second Lord +Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal +of his act. + +First Lord +Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his +house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques +le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere +sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the +tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her +grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and +now she sings in heaven. + +Second Lord +How is this justified? + +First Lord +The stronger part of it by her own letters, which +makes her story true, even to the point of her +death: her death itself, which could not be her +office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by +the rector of the place. + +Second Lord +Hath the count all this intelligence? + +First Lord +Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from +point, so to the full arming of the verity. + +Second Lord +I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. + +First Lord +How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! + +Second Lord +And how mightily some other times we drown our gain +in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath +here acquired for him shall at home be encountered +with a shame as ample. + +First Lord +The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and +ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our +faults whipped them not; and our crimes would +despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. + +Enter a Messenger + +How now! where's your master? + +Servant +He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath +taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next +morning for France. The duke hath offered him +letters of commendations to the king. + +Second Lord +They shall be no more than needful there, if they +were more than they can commend. + +First Lord +They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. +Here's his lordship now. + +Enter BERTRAM + +How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? + +BERTRAM +I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a +month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: +I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his +nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my +lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; +and between these main parcels of dispatch effected +many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but +that I have not ended yet. + +Second Lord +If the business be of any difficulty, and this +morning your departure hence, it requires haste of +your lordship. + +BERTRAM +I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to +hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this +dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, +bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived +me, like a double-meaning prophesier. + +Second Lord +Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, +poor gallant knave. + +BERTRAM +No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping +his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? + +Second Lord +I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry +him. But to answer you as you would be understood; +he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he +hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes +to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to +this very instant disaster of his setting i' the +stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? + +BERTRAM +Nothing of me, has a'? + +Second Lord +His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his +face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you +are, you must have the patience to hear it. + +Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier + +BERTRAM +A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of +me: hush, hush! + +First Lord +Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa + +First Soldier +He calls for the tortures: what will you say +without 'em? + +PAROLLES +I will confess what I know without constraint: if +ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. + +First Soldier +Bosko chimurcho. + +First Lord +Boblibindo chicurmurco. + +First Soldier +You are a merciful general. Our general bids you +answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. + +PAROLLES +And truly, as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'First demand of him how many horse the +duke is strong.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand; but very weak and +unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and +the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation +and credit and as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +Shall I set down your answer so? + +PAROLLES +Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. + +BERTRAM +All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! + +First Lord +You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur +Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own +phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the +knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of +his dagger. + +Second Lord +I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword +clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him +by wearing his apparel neatly. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say +true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth. + +First Lord +He's very near the truth in this. + +BERTRAM +But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he +delivers it. + +PAROLLES +Poor rogues, I pray you, say. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the +rogues are marvellous poor. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Demand of him, of what strength they are +a-foot.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present +hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a +hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so +many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, +and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own +company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and +fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and +sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand +poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off +their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. + +BERTRAM +What shall be done to him? + +First Lord +Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my +condition, and what credit I have with the duke. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +Reads + +'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain +be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is +with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and +expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not +possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to +corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what +do you know of it? + +PAROLLES +I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of +the inter'gatories: demand them singly. + +First Soldier +Do you know this Captain Dumain? + +PAROLLES +I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, +from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's +fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not +say him nay. + +BERTRAM +Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know +his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. + +First Soldier +Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp? + +PAROLLES +Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy. + +First Lord +Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your +lordship anon. + +First Soldier +What is his reputation with the duke? + +PAROLLES +The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer +of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him +out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. + +First Soldier +Marry, we'll search. + +PAROLLES +In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, +or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters +in my tent. + +First Soldier +Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you? + +PAROLLES +I do not know if it be it or no. + +BERTRAM +Our interpreter does it well. + +First Lord +Excellently. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'-- + +PAROLLES +That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an +advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one +Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count +Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very +ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. + +First Soldier +Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. + +PAROLLES +My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the +behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be +a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to +virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. + +BERTRAM +Damnable both-sides rogue! + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it; +After he scores, he never pays the score: +Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; +He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; +And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, +Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: +For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, +Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. +Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, +PAROLLES.' + +BERTRAM +He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme +in's forehead. + +Second Lord +This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold +linguist and the armipotent soldier. + +BERTRAM +I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now +he's a cat to me. + +First Soldier +I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be +fain to hang you. + +PAROLLES +My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to +die; but that, my offences being many, I would +repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, +sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live. + +First Soldier +We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; +therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you +have answered to his reputation with the duke and to +his valour: what is his honesty? + +PAROLLES +He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for +rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he +professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he +is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with +such volubility, that you would think truth were a +fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will +be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little +harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they +know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but +little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has +every thing that an honest man should not have; what +an honest man should have, he has nothing. + +First Lord +I begin to love him for this. + +BERTRAM +For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon +him for me, he's more and more a cat. + +First Soldier +What say you to his expertness in war? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English +tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of +his soldiership I know not; except, in that country +he had the honour to be the officer at a place there +called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of +files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of +this I am not certain. + +First Lord +He hath out-villained villany so far, that the +rarity redeems him. + +BERTRAM +A pox on him, he's a cat still. + +First Soldier +His qualities being at this poor price, I need not +to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. + +PAROLLES +Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple +of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the +entail from all remainders, and a perpetual +succession for it perpetually. + +First Soldier +What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain? + +Second Lord +Why does be ask him of me? + +First Soldier +What's he? + +PAROLLES +E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so +great as the first in goodness, but greater a great +deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward, +yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: +in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming +on he has the cramp. + +First Soldier +If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray +the Florentine? + +PAROLLES +Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon. + +First Soldier +I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. + +PAROLLES +[Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all +drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to +beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy +the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who +would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? + +First Soldier +There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the +general says, you that have so traitorously +discovered the secrets of your army and made such +pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can +serve the world for no honest use; therefore you +must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. + +PAROLLES +O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! + +First Lord +That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. + +Unblinding him + +So, look about you: know you any here? + +BERTRAM +Good morrow, noble captain. + +Second Lord +God bless you, Captain Parolles. + +First Lord +God save you, noble captain. + +Second Lord +Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? +I am for France. + +First Lord +Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet +you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? +an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you: +but fare you well. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords + +First Soldier +You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that +has a knot on't yet + +PAROLLES +Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + +First Soldier +If you could find out a country where but women were +that had received so much shame, you might begin an +impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France +too: we shall speak of you there. + +Exit with Soldiers + +PAROLLES +Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, +'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; +But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft +As captain shall: simply the thing I am +Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, +Let him fear this, for it will come to pass +that every braggart shall be found an ass. +Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live +Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! +There's place and means for every man alive. +I'll after them. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA +HELENA +That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: +Time was, I did him a desired office, +Dear almost as his life; which gratitude +Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, +And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd +His grace is at Marseilles; to which place +We have convenient convoy. You must know +I am supposed dead: the army breaking, +My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, +And by the leave of my good lord the king, +We'll be before our welcome. + +Widow +Gentle madam, +You never had a servant to whose trust +Your business was more welcome. + +HELENA +Nor you, mistress, +Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour +To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven +Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motive +And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! +That can such sweet use make of what they hate, +When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play +With what it loathes for that which is away. +But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, +Under my poor instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalf. + +DIANA +Let death and honesty +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Upon your will to suffer. + +HELENA +Yet, I pray you: +But with the word the time will bring on summer, +When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, +And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; +Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us: +All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; +Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown +LAFEU +No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta +fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have +made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in +his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at +this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced +by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + +COUNTESS +I would I had not known him; it was the death of the +most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had +praise for creating. If she had partaken of my +flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I +could not have owed her a more rooted love. + +LAFEU +'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a +thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the +salad, or rather, the herb of grace. + +LAFEU +They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. + +Clown +I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much +skill in grass. + +LAFEU +Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? + +Clown +A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. + +LAFEU +Your distinction? + +Clown +I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. + +LAFEU +So you were a knave at his service, indeed. + +Clown +And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. + +LAFEU +I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. + +Clown +At your service. + +LAFEU +No, no, no. + +Clown +Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as +great a prince as you are. + +LAFEU +Who's that? a Frenchman? + +Clown +Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy +is more hotter in France than there. + +LAFEU +What prince is that? + +Clown +The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of +darkness; alias, the devil. + +LAFEU +Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this +to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; +serve him still. + +Clown +I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a +great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a +good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the +world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for +the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be +too little for pomp to enter: some that humble +themselves may; but the many will be too chill and +tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that +leads to the broad gate and the great fire. + +LAFEU +Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I +tell thee so before, because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well +looked to, without any tricks. + +Clown +If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be +jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. + +Exit + +LAFEU +A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + +COUNTESS +So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much +sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, +which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, +indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. + +LAFEU +I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to +tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and +that my lord your son was upon his return home, I +moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of +my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, +his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did +first propose: his highness hath promised me to do +it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath +conceived against your son, there is no fitter +matter. How does your ladyship like it? + +COUNTESS +With very much content, my lord; and I wish it +happily effected. + +LAFEU +His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able +body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here +to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such +intelligence hath seldom failed. + +COUNTESS +It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I +die. I have letters that my son will be here +to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain +with me till they meet together. + +LAFEU +Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might +safely be admitted. + +COUNTESS +You need but plead your honourable privilege. + +LAFEU +Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I +thank my God it holds yet. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of +velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't +or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of +velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a +half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + +LAFEU +A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery +of honour; so belike is that. + +Clown +But it is your carbonadoed face. + +LAFEU +Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk +with the young noble soldier. + +Clown +Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine +hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head +and nod at every man. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Marseilles. A street. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants +HELENA +But this exceeding posting day and night +Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: +But since you have made the days and nights as one, +To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, +Be bold you do so grow in my requital +As nothing can unroot you. In happy time; + +Enter a Gentleman + +This man may help me to his majesty's ear, +If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. + +Gentleman +And you. + +HELENA +Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + +Gentleman +I have been sometimes there. + +HELENA +I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen +From the report that goes upon your goodness; +An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The use of your own virtues, for the which +I shall continue thankful. + +Gentleman +What's your will? + +HELENA +That it will please you +To give this poor petition to the king, +And aid me with that store of power you have +To come into his presence. + +Gentleman +The king's not here. + +HELENA +Not here, sir! + +Gentleman +Not, indeed: +He hence removed last night and with more haste +Than is his use. + +Widow +Lord, how we lose our pains! + +HELENA +ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, +Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + +Gentleman +Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; +Whither I am going. + +HELENA +I do beseech you, sir, +Since you are like to see the king before me, +Commend the paper to his gracious hand, +Which I presume shall render you no blame +But rather make you thank your pains for it. +I will come after you with what good speed +Our means will make us means. + +Gentleman +This I'll do for you. + +HELENA +And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, +Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. +Go, go, provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace. + +Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following +PAROLLES +Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this +letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to +you, when I have held familiarity with fresher +clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's +mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong +displeasure. + +Clown +Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it +smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will +henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. +Prithee, allow the wind. + +PAROLLES +Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake +but by a metaphor. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my +nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get +thee further. + +PAROLLES +Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + +Clown +Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's +close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he +comes himself. + +Enter LAFEU + +Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's +cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the +unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he +says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the +carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, +ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his +distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to +your lordship. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly +scratched. + +LAFEU +And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to +pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the +knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who +of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves +thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for +you: let the justices make you and fortune friends: +I am for other business. + +PAROLLES +I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. + +LAFEU +You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; +save your word. + +PAROLLES +My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + +LAFEU +You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion! +give me your hand. How does your drum? + +PAROLLES +O my good lord, you were the first that found me! + +LAFEU +Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. + +PAROLLES +It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, +for you did bring me out. + +LAFEU +Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once +both the office of God and the devil? One brings +thee in grace and the other brings thee out. + +Trumpets sound + +The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, +inquire further after me; I had talk of you last +night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall +eat; go to, follow. + +PAROLLES +I praise God for you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two French Lords, with Attendants +KING +We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem +Was made much poorer by it: but your son, +As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know +Her estimation home. + +COUNTESS +'Tis past, my liege; +And I beseech your majesty to make it +Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; +When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, +O'erbears it and burns on. + +KING +My honour'd lady, +I have forgiven and forgotten all; +Though my revenges were high bent upon him, +And watch'd the time to shoot. + +LAFEU +This I must say, +But first I beg my pardon, the young lord +Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady +Offence of mighty note; but to himself +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife +Whose beauty did astonish the survey +Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, +Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve +Humbly call'd mistress. + +KING +Praising what is lost +Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; +We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill +All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; +The nature of his great offence is dead, +And deeper than oblivion we do bury +The incensing relics of it: let him approach, +A stranger, no offender; and inform him +So 'tis our will he should. + +Gentleman +I shall, my liege. + +Exit + +KING +What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? + +LAFEU +All that he is hath reference to your highness. + +KING +Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me +That set him high in fame. + +Enter BERTRAM + +LAFEU +He looks well on't. + +KING +I am not a day of season, +For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail +In me at once: but to the brightest beams +Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; +The time is fair again. + +BERTRAM +My high-repented blames, +Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + +KING +All is whole; +Not one word more of the consumed time. +Let's take the instant by the forward top; +For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees +The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time +Steals ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this lord? + +BERTRAM +Admiringly, my liege, at first +I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue +Where the impression of mine eye infixing, +Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, +Which warp'd the line of every other favour; +Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous object: thence it came +That she whom all men praised and whom myself, +Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it. + +KING +Well excused: +That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away +From the great compt: but love that comes too late, +Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, +To the great sender turns a sour offence, +Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults +Make trivial price of serious things we have, +Not knowing them until we know their grave: +Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, +Destroy our friends and after weep their dust +Our own love waking cries to see what's done, +While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. +Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: +The main consents are had; and here we'll stay +To see our widower's second marriage-day. + +COUNTESS +Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! +Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + +LAFEU +Come on, my son, in whom my house's name +Must be digested, give a favour from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. + +BERTRAM gives a ring + +By my old beard, +And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, +Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, +The last that e'er I took her at court, +I saw upon her finger. + +BERTRAM +Hers it was not. + +KING +Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. +This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, +I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood +Necessitied to help, that by this token +I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave +her +Of what should stead her most? + +BERTRAM +My gracious sovereign, +Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was never hers. + +COUNTESS +Son, on my life, +I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it +At her life's rate. + +LAFEU +I am sure I saw her wear it. + +BERTRAM +You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it: +In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, +Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name +Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought +I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed +To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully +I could not answer in that course of honour +As she had made the overture, she ceased +In heavy satisfaction and would never +Receive the ring again. + +KING +Plutus himself, +That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, +Hath not in nature's mystery more science +Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, +Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know +That you are well acquainted with yourself, +Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety +That she would never put it from her finger, +Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, +Where you have never come, or sent it us +Upon her great disaster. + +BERTRAM +She never saw it. + +KING +Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour; +And makest conjectural fears to come into me +Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove +That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;-- +And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead; which nothing, but to close +Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, +More than to see this ring. Take him away. + +Guards seize BERTRAM + +My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, +Shall tax my fears of little vanity, +Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him! +We'll sift this matter further. + +BERTRAM +If you shall prove +This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy +Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she never was. + +Exit, guarded + +KING +I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. + +Enter a Gentleman + +Gentleman +Gracious sovereign, +Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: +Here's a petition from a Florentine, +Who hath for four or five removes come short +To tender it herself. I undertook it, +Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech +Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know +Is here attending: her business looks in her +With an importing visage; and she told me, +In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern +Your highness with herself. + +KING +[Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me +when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won +me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows +are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He +stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow +him to his country for justice: grant it me, O +king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer +flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. +DIANA CAPILET. + +LAFEU +I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for +this: I'll none of him. + +KING +The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu, +To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: +Go speedily and bring again the count. +I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, +Was foully snatch'd. + +COUNTESS +Now, justice on the doers! + +Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded + +KING +I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, +And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. + +Enter Widow and DIANA + +What woman's that? + +DIANA +I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, +Derived from the ancient Capilet: +My suit, as I do understand, you know, +And therefore know how far I may be pitied. + +Widow +I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour +Both suffer under this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease, without your remedy. + +KING +Come hither, count; do you know these women? + +BERTRAM +My lord, I neither can nor will deny +But that I know them: do they charge me further? + +DIANA +Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + +BERTRAM +She's none of mine, my lord. + +DIANA +If you shall marry, +You give away this hand, and that is mine; +You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; +You give away myself, which is known mine; +For I by vow am so embodied yours, +That she which marries you must marry me, +Either both or none. + +LAFEU +Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you +are no husband for her. + +BERTRAM +My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, +Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness +Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour +Than for to think that I would sink it here. + +KING +Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend +Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour +Than in my thought it lies. + +DIANA +Good my lord, +Ask him upon his oath, if he does think +He had not my virginity. + +KING +What say'st thou to her? + +BERTRAM +She's impudent, my lord, +And was a common gamester to the camp. + +DIANA +He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, +He might have bought me at a common price: +Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, +Whose high respect and rich validity +Did lack a parallel; yet for all that +He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, +If I be one. + +COUNTESS +He blushes, and 'tis it: +Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, +Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, +Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; +That ring's a thousand proofs. + +KING +Methought you said +You saw one here in court could witness it. + +DIANA +I did, my lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. + +LAFEU +I saw the man to-day, if man he be. + +KING +Find him, and bring him hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +BERTRAM +What of him? +He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, +With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd; +Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. +Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, +That will speak any thing? + +KING +She hath that ring of yours. + +BERTRAM +I think she has: certain it is I liked her, +And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: +She knew her distance and did angle for me, +Madding my eagerness with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancy's course +Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, +Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, +Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; +And I had that which any inferior might +At market-price have bought. + +DIANA +I must be patient: +You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife, +May justly diet me. I pray you yet; +Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband; +Send for your ring, I will return it home, +And give me mine again. + +BERTRAM +I have it not. + +KING +What ring was yours, I pray you? + +DIANA +Sir, much like +The same upon your finger. + +KING +Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. + +DIANA +And this was it I gave him, being abed. + +KING +The story then goes false, you threw it him +Out of a casement. + +DIANA +I have spoke the truth. + +Enter PAROLLES + +BERTRAM +My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + +KING +You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you. +Is this the man you speak of? + +DIANA +Ay, my lord. + +KING +Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master, +Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off, +By him and by this woman here what know you? + +PAROLLES +So please your majesty, my master hath been an +honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, +which gentlemen have. + +KING +Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? + +KING +How, I pray you? + +PAROLLES +He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. + +KING +How is that? + +PAROLLES +He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + +KING +As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an +equivocal companion is this! + +PAROLLES +I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. + +LAFEU +He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. + +DIANA +Do you know he promised me marriage? + +PAROLLES +Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + +KING +But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? + +PAROLLES +Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, +as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for +indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and +of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I +was in that credit with them at that time that I +knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, +as promising her marriage, and things which would +derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not +speak what I know. + +KING +Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say +they are married: but thou art too fine in thy +evidence; therefore stand aside. +This ring, you say, was yours? + +DIANA +Ay, my good lord. + +KING +Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? + +DIANA +It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + +KING +Who lent it you? + +DIANA +It was not lent me neither. + +KING +Where did you find it, then? + +DIANA +I found it not. + +KING +If it were yours by none of all these ways, +How could you give it him? + +DIANA +I never gave it him. + +LAFEU +This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off +and on at pleasure. + +KING +This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. + +DIANA +It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. + +KING +Take her away; I do not like her now; +To prison with her: and away with him. +Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, +Thou diest within this hour. + +DIANA +I'll never tell you. + +KING +Take her away. + +DIANA +I'll put in bail, my liege. + +KING +I think thee now some common customer. + +DIANA +By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + +KING +Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + +DIANA +Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: +He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't; +I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. +Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; +I am either maid, or else this old man's wife. + +KING +She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. + +DIANA +Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir: + +Exit Widow + +The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this lord, +Who hath abused me, as he knows himself, +Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: +He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; +And at that time he got his wife with child: +Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick: +So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick: +And now behold the meaning. + +Re-enter Widow, with HELENA + +KING +Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? +Is't real that I see? + +HELENA +No, my good lord; +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name and not the thing. + +BERTRAM +Both, both. O, pardon! + +HELENA +O my good lord, when I was like this maid, +I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring; +And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: +'When from my finger you can get this ring +And are by me with child,' & c. This is done: +Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? + +BERTRAM +If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, +I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + +HELENA +If it appear not plain and prove untrue, +Deadly divorce step between me and you! +O my dear mother, do I see you living? + +LAFEU +Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: + +To PAROLLES + +Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so, +I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: +Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. + +KING +Let us from point to point this story know, +To make the even truth in pleasure flow. + +To DIANA + +If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; +For I can guess that by thy honest aid +Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. +Of that and all the progress, more or less, +Resolvedly more leisure shall express: +All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + +Flourish + +EPILOGUE + +KING +The king's a beggar, now the play is done: +All is well ended, if this suit be won, +That you express content; which we will pay, +With strife to please you, day exceeding day: +Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; +Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. + +Exeunt +As You Like It +Shakespeare homepage | As You Like It | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ORLANDO +As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion +bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, +and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his +blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my +sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and +report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, +he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more +properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you +that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that +differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses +are bred better; for, besides that they are fair +with their feeding, they are taught their manage, +and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his +brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the +which his animals on his dunghills are as much +bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so +plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave +me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets +me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a +brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my +gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that +grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I +think is within me, begins to mutiny against this +servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I +know no wise remedy how to avoid it. + +ADAM +Yonder comes my master, your brother. + +ORLANDO +Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will +shake me up. + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Now, sir! what make you here? + +ORLANDO +Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. + +OLIVER +What mar you then, sir? + +ORLANDO +Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God +made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. + +OLIVER +Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. + +ORLANDO +Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? +What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should +come to such penury? + +OLIVER +Know you where your are, sir? + +ORLANDO +O, sir, very well; here in your orchard. + +OLIVER +Know you before whom, sir? + +ORLANDO +Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know +you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle +condition of blood, you should so know me. The +courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that +you are the first-born; but the same tradition +takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers +betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as +you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is +nearer to his reverence. + +OLIVER +What, boy! + +ORLANDO +Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. + +OLIVER +Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? + +ORLANDO +I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice +a villain that says such a father begot villains. +Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand +from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy +tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. + +ADAM +Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's +remembrance, be at accord. + +OLIVER +Let me go, I say. + +ORLANDO +I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My +father charged you in his will to give me good +education: you have trained me like a peasant, +obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like +qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in +me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow +me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or +give me the poor allottery my father left me by +testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. + +OLIVER +And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? +Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled +with you; you shall have some part of your will: I +pray you, leave me. + +ORLANDO +I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good. + +OLIVER +Get you with him, you old dog. + +ADAM +Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my +teeth in your service. God be with my old master! +he would not have spoke such a word. + +Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM + +OLIVER +Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will +physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand +crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! + +Enter DENNIS + +DENNIS +Calls your worship? + +OLIVER +Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? + +DENNIS +So please you, he is here at the door and importunes +access to you. + +OLIVER +Call him in. + +Exit DENNIS + +'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. + +Enter CHARLES + +CHARLES +Good morrow to your worship. + +OLIVER +Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the +new court? + +CHARLES +There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: +that is, the old duke is banished by his younger +brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords +have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, +whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; +therefore he gives them good leave to wander. + +OLIVER +Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be +banished with her father? + +CHARLES +O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves +her, being ever from their cradles bred together, +that she would have followed her exile, or have died +to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no +less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and +never two ladies loved as they do. + +OLIVER +Where will the old duke live? + +CHARLES +They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and +a many merry men with him; and there they live like +the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young +gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time +carelessly, as they did in the golden world. + +OLIVER +What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? + +CHARLES +Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a +matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand +that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition +to come in disguised against me to try a fall. +To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that +escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him +well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, +for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I +must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, +out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you +withal, that either you might stay him from his +intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall +run into, in that it is a thing of his own search +and altogether against my will. + +OLIVER +Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which +thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had +myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and +have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from +it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles: +it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full +of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's +good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against +me his natural brother: therefore use thy +discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck +as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if +thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not +mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise +against thee by poison, entrap thee by some +treacherous device and never leave thee till he +hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; +for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak +it, there is not one so young and so villanous this +day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but +should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must +blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder. + +CHARLES +I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come +to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go +alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and +so God keep your worship! + +OLIVER +Farewell, good Charles. + +Exit CHARLES + +Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see +an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, +hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never +schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of +all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much +in the heart of the world, and especially of my own +people, who best know him, that I am altogether +misprised: but it shall not be so long; this +wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that +I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Lawn before the Duke's palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. + +ROSALIND +Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; +and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could +teach me to forget a banished father, you must not +learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. + +CELIA +Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight +that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, +had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou +hadst been still with me, I could have taught my +love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou, +if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously +tempered as mine is to thee. + +ROSALIND +Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to +rejoice in yours. + +CELIA +You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is +like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt +be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy +father perforce, I will render thee again in +affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break +that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my +sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. + +ROSALIND +From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let +me see; what think you of falling in love? + +CELIA +Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but +love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport +neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst +in honour come off again. + +ROSALIND +What shall be our sport, then? + +CELIA +Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from +her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. + +ROSALIND +I would we could do so, for her benefits are +mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman +doth most mistake in her gifts to women. + +CELIA +'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce +makes honest, and those that she makes honest she +makes very ill-favouredly. + +ROSALIND +Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to +Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, +not in the lineaments of Nature. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she +not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature +hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not +Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? + +ROSALIND +Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when +Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of +Nature's wit. + +CELIA +Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but +Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull +to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this +natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of +the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, +wit! whither wander you? + +TOUCHSTONE +Mistress, you must come away to your father. + +CELIA +Were you made the messenger? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you. + +ROSALIND +Where learned you that oath, fool? + +TOUCHSTONE +Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they +were good pancakes and swore by his honour the +mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the +pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and +yet was not the knight forsworn. + +CELIA +How prove you that, in the great heap of your +knowledge? + +ROSALIND +Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. + +TOUCHSTONE +Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and +swear by your beards that I am a knave. + +CELIA +By our beards, if we had them, thou art. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you +swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no +more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he +never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away +before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard. + +CELIA +Prithee, who is't that thou meanest? + +TOUCHSTONE +One that old Frederick, your father, loves. + +CELIA +My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! +speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation +one of these days. + +TOUCHSTONE +The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what +wise men do foolishly. + +CELIA +By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little +wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery +that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes +Monsieur Le Beau. + +ROSALIND +With his mouth full of news. + +CELIA +Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. + +ROSALIND +Then shall we be news-crammed. + +CELIA +All the better; we shall be the more marketable. + +Enter LE BEAU + +Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news? + +LE BEAU +Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. + +CELIA +Sport! of what colour? + +LE BEAU +What colour, madam! how shall I answer you? + +ROSALIND +As wit and fortune will. + +TOUCHSTONE +Or as the Destinies decree. + +CELIA +Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, if I keep not my rank,-- + +ROSALIND +Thou losest thy old smell. + +LE BEAU +You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good +wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. + +ROSALIND +You tell us the manner of the wrestling. + +LE BEAU +I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please +your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is +yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming +to perform it. + +CELIA +Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. + +LE BEAU +There comes an old man and his three sons,-- + +CELIA +I could match this beginning with an old tale. + +LE BEAU +Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence. + +ROSALIND +With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men +by these presents.' + +LE BEAU +The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the +duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him +and broke three of his ribs, that there is little +hope of life in him: so he served the second, and +so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, +their father, making such pitiful dole over them +that all the beholders take his part with weeping. + +ROSALIND +Alas! + +TOUCHSTONE +But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies +have lost? + +LE BEAU +Why, this that I speak of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first +time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport +for ladies. + +CELIA +Or I, I promise thee. + +ROSALIND +But is there any else longs to see this broken music +in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon +rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? + +LE BEAU +You must, if you stay here; for here is the place +appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to +perform it. + +CELIA +Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it. + +Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants + +DUKE FREDERICK +Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his +own peril on his forwardness. + +ROSALIND +Is yonder the man? + +LE BEAU +Even he, madam. + +CELIA +Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither +to see the wrestling? + +ROSALIND +Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You will take little delight in it, I can tell you; +there is such odds in the man. In pity of the +challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he +will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if +you can move him. + +CELIA +Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Do so: I'll not be by. + +LE BEAU +Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you. + +ORLANDO +I attend them with all respect and duty. + +ROSALIND +Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler? + +ORLANDO +No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I +come but in, as others do, to try with him the +strength of my youth. + +CELIA +Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your +years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's +strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or +knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your +adventure would counsel you to a more equal +enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to +embrace your own safety and give over this attempt. + +ROSALIND +Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore +be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke +that the wrestling might not go forward. + +ORLANDO +I beseech you, punish me not with your hard +thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny +so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let +your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my +trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one +shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one +dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my +friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the +world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in +the world I fill up a place, which may be better +supplied when I have made it empty. + +ROSALIND +The little strength that I have, I would it were with you. + +CELIA +And mine, to eke out hers. + +ROSALIND +Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you! + +CELIA +Your heart's desires be with you! + +CHARLES +Come, where is this young gallant that is so +desirous to lie with his mother earth? + +ORLANDO +Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You shall try but one fall. + +CHARLES +No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him +to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him +from a first. + +ORLANDO +An you mean to mock me after, you should not have +mocked me before: but come your ways. + +ROSALIND +Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! + +CELIA +I would I were invisible, to catch the strong +fellow by the leg. + +They wrestle + +ROSALIND +O excellent young man! + +CELIA +If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who +should down. + +Shout. CHARLES is thrown + +DUKE FREDERICK +No more, no more. + +ORLANDO +Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How dost thou, Charles? + +LE BEAU +He cannot speak, my lord. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? + +ORLANDO +Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. + +DUKE FREDERICK +I would thou hadst been son to some man else: +The world esteem'd thy father honourable, +But I did find him still mine enemy: +Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, +Hadst thou descended from another house. +But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth: +I would thou hadst told me of another father. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU + +CELIA +Were I my father, coz, would I do this? + +ORLANDO +I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, +His youngest son; and would not change that calling, +To be adopted heir to Frederick. + +ROSALIND +My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, +And all the world was of my father's mind: +Had I before known this young man his son, +I should have given him tears unto entreaties, +Ere he should thus have ventured. + +CELIA +Gentle cousin, +Let us go thank him and encourage him: +My father's rough and envious disposition +Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved: +If you do keep your promises in love +But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, +Your mistress shall be happy. + +ROSALIND +Gentleman, + +Giving him a chain from her neck + +Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, +That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. +Shall we go, coz? + +CELIA +Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. + +ORLANDO +Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts +Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up +Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. + +ROSALIND +He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes; +I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir? +Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown +More than your enemies. + +CELIA +Will you go, coz? + +ROSALIND +Have with you. Fare you well. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +ORLANDO +What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? +I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. +O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! +Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. + +Re-enter LE BEAU + +LE BEAU +Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you +To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved +High commendation, true applause and love, +Yet such is now the duke's condition +That he misconstrues all that you have done. +The duke is humorous; what he is indeed, +More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. + +ORLANDO +I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this: +Which of the two was daughter of the duke +That here was at the wrestling? + +LE BEAU +Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; +But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter +The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, +And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, +To keep his daughter company; whose loves +Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. +But I can tell you that of late this duke +Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, +Grounded upon no other argument +But that the people praise her for her virtues +And pity her for her good father's sake; +And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady +Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well: +Hereafter, in a better world than this, +I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. + +ORLANDO +I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. + +Exit LE BEAU + +Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; +From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother: +But heavenly Rosalind! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word? + +ROSALIND +Not one to throw at a dog. + +CELIA +No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon +curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. + +ROSALIND +Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one +should be lamed with reasons and the other mad +without any. + +CELIA +But is all this for your father? + +ROSALIND +No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how +full of briers is this working-day world! + +CELIA +They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in +holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden +paths our very petticoats will catch them. + +ROSALIND +I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. + +CELIA +Hem them away. + +ROSALIND +I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him. + +CELIA +Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. + +ROSALIND +O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself! + +CELIA +O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in +despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of +service, let us talk in good earnest: is it +possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so +strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? + +ROSALIND +The duke my father loved his father dearly. + +CELIA +Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son +dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, +for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate +not Orlando. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. + +CELIA +Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? + +ROSALIND +Let me love him for that, and do you love him +because I do. Look, here comes the duke. + +CELIA +With his eyes full of anger. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords + +DUKE FREDERICK +Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste +And get you from our court. + +ROSALIND +Me, uncle? + +DUKE FREDERICK +You, cousin +Within these ten days if that thou be'st found +So near our public court as twenty miles, +Thou diest for it. + +ROSALIND +I do beseech your grace, +Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: +If with myself I hold intelligence +Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, +If that I do not dream or be not frantic,-- +As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, +Never so much as in a thought unborn +Did I offend your highness. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thus do all traitors: +If their purgation did consist in words, +They are as innocent as grace itself: +Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. + +ROSALIND +Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: +Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. + +ROSALIND +So was I when your highness took his dukedom; +So was I when your highness banish'd him: +Treason is not inherited, my lord; +Or, if we did derive it from our friends, +What's that to me? my father was no traitor: +Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much +To think my poverty is treacherous. + +CELIA +Dear sovereign, hear me speak. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, +Else had she with her father ranged along. + +CELIA +I did not then entreat to have her stay; +It was your pleasure and your own remorse: +I was too young that time to value her; +But now I know her: if she be a traitor, +Why so am I; we still have slept together, +Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together, +And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, +Still we went coupled and inseparable. + +DUKE FREDERICK +She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, +Her very silence and her patience +Speak to the people, and they pity her. +Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; +And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous +When she is gone. Then open not thy lips: +Firm and irrevocable is my doom +Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. + +CELIA +Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: +I cannot live out of her company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself: +If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, +And in the greatness of my word, you die. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords + +CELIA +O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? +Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. +I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. + +ROSALIND +I have more cause. + +CELIA +Thou hast not, cousin; +Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke +Hath banish'd me, his daughter? + +ROSALIND +That he hath not. + +CELIA +No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love +Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: +Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? +No: let my father seek another heir. +Therefore devise with me how we may fly, +Whither to go and what to bear with us; +And do not seek to take your change upon you, +To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out; +For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, +Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. + +ROSALIND +Why, whither shall we go? + +CELIA +To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. + +ROSALIND +Alas, what danger will it be to us, +Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! +Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. + +CELIA +I'll put myself in poor and mean attire +And with a kind of umber smirch my face; +The like do you: so shall we pass along +And never stir assailants. + +ROSALIND +Were it not better, +Because that I am more than common tall, +That I did suit me all points like a man? +A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, +A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart +Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-- +We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, +As many other mannish cowards have +That do outface it with their semblances. + +CELIA +What shall I call thee when thou art a man? + +ROSALIND +I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page; +And therefore look you call me Ganymede. +But what will you be call'd? + +CELIA +Something that hath a reference to my state +No longer Celia, but Aliena. + +ROSALIND +But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal +The clownish fool out of your father's court? +Would he not be a comfort to our travel? + +CELIA +He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; +Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, +And get our jewels and our wealth together, +Devise the fittest time and safest way +To hide us from pursuit that will be made +After my flight. Now go we in content +To liberty and not to banishment. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters +DUKE SENIOR +Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, +Hath not old custom made this life more sweet +Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods +More free from peril than the envious court? +Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, +The seasons' difference, as the icy fang +And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, +Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, +Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say +'This is no flattery: these are counsellors +That feelingly persuade me what I am.' +Sweet are the uses of adversity, +Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, +Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; +And this our life exempt from public haunt +Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, +Sermons in stones and good in every thing. +I would not change it. + +AMIENS +Happy is your grace, +That can translate the stubbornness of fortune +Into so quiet and so sweet a style. + +DUKE SENIOR +Come, shall we go and kill us venison? +And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, +Being native burghers of this desert city, +Should in their own confines with forked heads +Have their round haunches gored. + +First Lord +Indeed, my lord, +The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, +And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp +Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. +To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself +Did steal behind him as he lay along +Under an oak whose antique root peeps out +Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: +To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, +That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, +Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord, +The wretched animal heaved forth such groans +That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat +Almost to bursting, and the big round tears +Coursed one another down his innocent nose +In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool +Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, +Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, +Augmenting it with tears. + +DUKE SENIOR +But what said Jaques? +Did he not moralize this spectacle? + +First Lord +O, yes, into a thousand similes. +First, for his weeping into the needless stream; +'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament +As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more +To that which had too much:' then, being there alone, +Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, +''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part +The flux of company:' anon a careless herd, +Full of the pasture, jumps along by him +And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques, +'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; +'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look +Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?' +Thus most invectively he pierceth through +The body of the country, city, court, +Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we +Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, +To fright the animals and to kill them up +In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. + +DUKE SENIOR +And did you leave him in this contemplation? + +Second Lord +We did, my lord, weeping and commenting +Upon the sobbing deer. + +DUKE SENIOR +Show me the place: +I love to cope him in these sullen fits, +For then he's full of matter. + +First Lord +I'll bring you to him straight. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords +DUKE FREDERICK +Can it be possible that no man saw them? +It cannot be: some villains of my court +Are of consent and sufferance in this. + +First Lord +I cannot hear of any that did see her. +The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, +Saw her abed, and in the morning early +They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. + +Second Lord +My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft +Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. +Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, +Confesses that she secretly o'erheard +Your daughter and her cousin much commend +The parts and graces of the wrestler +That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; +And she believes, wherever they are gone, +That youth is surely in their company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither; +If he be absent, bring his brother to me; +I'll make him find him: do this suddenly, +And let not search and inquisition quail +To bring again these foolish runaways. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting +ORLANDO +Who's there? + +ADAM +What, my young master? O, my gentle master! +O my sweet master! O you memory +Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? +Why are you virtuous? why do people love you? +And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant? +Why would you be so fond to overcome +The bonny priser of the humorous duke? +Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. +Know you not, master, to some kind of men +Their graces serve them but as enemies? +No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, +Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. +O, what a world is this, when what is comely +Envenoms him that bears it! + +ORLANDO +Why, what's the matter? + +ADAM +O unhappy youth! +Come not within these doors; within this roof +The enemy of all your graces lives: +Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son-- +Yet not the son, I will not call him son +Of him I was about to call his father-- +Hath heard your praises, and this night he means +To burn the lodging where you use to lie +And you within it: if he fail of that, +He will have other means to cut you off. +I overheard him and his practises. +This is no place; this house is but a butchery: +Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. + +ORLANDO +Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? + +ADAM +No matter whither, so you come not here. + +ORLANDO +What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? +Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce +A thievish living on the common road? +This I must do, or know not what to do: +Yet this I will not do, do how I can; +I rather will subject me to the malice +Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. + +ADAM +But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, +The thrifty hire I saved under your father, +Which I did store to be my foster-nurse +When service should in my old limbs lie lame +And unregarded age in corners thrown: +Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, +Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, +Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold; +And all this I give you. Let me be your servant: +Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; +For in my youth I never did apply +Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, +Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo +The means of weakness and debility; +Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, +Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; +I'll do the service of a younger man +In all your business and necessities. + +ORLANDO +O good old man, how well in thee appears +The constant service of the antique world, +When service sweat for duty, not for meed! +Thou art not for the fashion of these times, +Where none will sweat but for promotion, +And having that, do choke their service up +Even with the having: it is not so with thee. +But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree, +That cannot so much as a blossom yield +In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry +But come thy ways; well go along together, +And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, +We'll light upon some settled low content. + +ADAM +Master, go on, and I will follow thee, +To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. +From seventeen years till now almost fourscore +Here lived I, but now live here no more. +At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; +But at fourscore it is too late a week: +Yet fortune cannot recompense me better +Than to die well and not my master's debtor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE +ROSALIND +O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! + +TOUCHSTONE +I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. + +ROSALIND +I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's +apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort +the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show +itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage, +good Aliena! + +CELIA +I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further. + +TOUCHSTONE +For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear +you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, +for I think you have no money in your purse. + +ROSALIND +Well, this is the forest of Arden. + +TOUCHSTONE +Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home, I was in a better place: but travellers +must be content. + +ROSALIND +Ay, be so, good Touchstone. + +Enter CORIN and SILVIUS + +Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in +solemn talk. + +CORIN +That is the way to make her scorn you still. + +SILVIUS +O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! + +CORIN +I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. + +SILVIUS +No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, +Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover +As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: +But if thy love were ever like to mine-- +As sure I think did never man love so-- +How many actions most ridiculous +Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? + +CORIN +Into a thousand that I have forgotten. + +SILVIUS +O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! +If thou remember'st not the slightest folly +That ever love did make thee run into, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, +Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not broke from company +Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, +Thou hast not loved. +O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, +I have by hard adventure found mine own. + +TOUCHSTONE +And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke +my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for +coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the +kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her +pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the +wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took +two cods and, giving her them again, said with +weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are +true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is +mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. + +ROSALIND +Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I +break my shins against it. + +ROSALIND +Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion +Is much upon my fashion. + +TOUCHSTONE +And mine; but it grows something stale with me. + +CELIA +I pray you, one of you question yond man +If he for gold will give us any food: +I faint almost to death. + +TOUCHSTONE +Holla, you clown! + +ROSALIND +Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. + +CORIN +Who calls? + +TOUCHSTONE +Your betters, sir. + +CORIN +Else are they very wretched. + +ROSALIND +Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. + +CORIN +And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. + +ROSALIND +I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold +Can in this desert place buy entertainment, +Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: +Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd +And faints for succor. + +CORIN +Fair sir, I pity her +And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, +My fortunes were more able to relieve her; +But I am shepherd to another man +And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: +My master is of churlish disposition +And little recks to find the way to heaven +By doing deeds of hospitality: +Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed +Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, +By reason of his absence, there is nothing +That you will feed on; but what is, come see. +And in my voice most welcome shall you be. + +ROSALIND +What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? + +CORIN +That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, +That little cares for buying any thing. + +ROSALIND +I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, +Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, +And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. + +CELIA +And we will mend thy wages. I like this place. +And willingly could waste my time in it. + +CORIN +Assuredly the thing is to be sold: +Go with me: if you like upon report +The soil, the profit and this kind of life, +I will your very faithful feeder be +And buy it with your gold right suddenly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The Forest. + +Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others +SONG. + +AMIENS +Under the greenwood tree +Who loves to lie with me, +And turn his merry note +Unto the sweet bird's throat, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +More, more, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck +melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. +More, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. + +JAQUES +I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to +sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos? + +AMIENS +What you will, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me +nothing. Will you sing? + +AMIENS +More at your request than to please myself. + +JAQUES +Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; +but that they call compliment is like the encounter +of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily, +methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me +the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will +not, hold your tongues. + +AMIENS +Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the +duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all +this day to look you. + +JAQUES +And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is +too disputable for my company: I think of as many +matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no +boast of them. Come, warble, come. +SONG. +Who doth ambition shun + +All together here + +And loves to live i' the sun, +Seeking the food he eats +And pleased with what he gets, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +I'll give you a verse to this note that I made +yesterday in despite of my invention. + +AMIENS +And I'll sing it. + +JAQUES +Thus it goes:-- +If it do come to pass +That any man turn ass, +Leaving his wealth and ease, +A stubborn will to please, +Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: +Here shall he see +Gross fools as he, +An if he will come to me. + +AMIENS +What's that 'ducdame'? + +JAQUES +'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a +circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll +rail against all the first-born of Egypt. + +AMIENS +And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE VI. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ADAM +Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! +Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, +kind master. + +ORLANDO +Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live +a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. +If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I +will either be food for it or bring it for food to +thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. +For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at +the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently; +and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will +give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I +come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! +thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. +Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear +thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for +lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this +desert. Cheerly, good Adam! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The forest. + +A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws +DUKE SENIOR +I think he be transform'd into a beast; +For I can no where find him like a man. + +First Lord +My lord, he is but even now gone hence: +Here was he merry, hearing of a song. + +DUKE SENIOR +If he, compact of jars, grow musical, +We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. +Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him. + +Enter JAQUES + +First Lord +He saves my labour by his own approach. + +DUKE SENIOR +Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, +That your poor friends must woo your company? +What, you look merrily! + +JAQUES +A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, +A motley fool; a miserable world! +As I do live by food, I met a fool +Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, +And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, +In good set terms and yet a motley fool. +'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he, +'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:' +And then he drew a dial from his poke, +And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, +Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: +Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags: +'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, +And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; +And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, +And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; +And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear +The motley fool thus moral on the time, +My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, +That fools should be so deep-contemplative, +And I did laugh sans intermission +An hour by his dial. O noble fool! +A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. + +DUKE SENIOR +What fool is this? + +JAQUES +O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, +And says, if ladies be but young and fair, +They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, +Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit +After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd +With observation, the which he vents +In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! +I am ambitious for a motley coat. + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou shalt have one. + +JAQUES +It is my only suit; +Provided that you weed your better judgments +Of all opinion that grows rank in them +That I am wise. I must have liberty +Withal, as large a charter as the wind, +To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; +And they that are most galled with my folly, +They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so? +The 'why' is plain as way to parish church: +He that a fool doth very wisely hit +Doth very foolishly, although he smart, +Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, +The wise man's folly is anatomized +Even by the squandering glances of the fool. +Invest me in my motley; give me leave +To speak my mind, and I will through and through +Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, +If they will patiently receive my medicine. + +DUKE SENIOR +Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. + +JAQUES +What, for a counter, would I do but good? + +DUKE SENIOR +Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: +For thou thyself hast been a libertine, +As sensual as the brutish sting itself; +And all the embossed sores and headed evils, +That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, +Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. + +JAQUES +Why, who cries out on pride, +That can therein tax any private party? +Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, +Till that the weary very means do ebb? +What woman in the city do I name, +When that I say the city-woman bears +The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? +Who can come in and say that I mean her, +When such a one as she such is her neighbour? +Or what is he of basest function +That says his bravery is not of my cost, +Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits +His folly to the mettle of my speech? +There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein +My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, +Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free, +Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, +Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here? + +Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn + +ORLANDO +Forbear, and eat no more. + +JAQUES +Why, I have eat none yet. + +ORLANDO +Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. + +JAQUES +Of what kind should this cock come of? + +DUKE SENIOR +Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, +Or else a rude despiser of good manners, +That in civility thou seem'st so empty? + +ORLANDO +You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point +Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show +Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred +And know some nurture. But forbear, I say: +He dies that touches any of this fruit +Till I and my affairs are answered. + +JAQUES +An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. + +DUKE SENIOR +What would you have? Your gentleness shall force +More than your force move us to gentleness. + +ORLANDO +I almost die for food; and let me have it. + +DUKE SENIOR +Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. + +ORLANDO +Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: +I thought that all things had been savage here; +And therefore put I on the countenance +Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are +That in this desert inaccessible, +Under the shade of melancholy boughs, +Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time +If ever you have look'd on better days, +If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, +If ever sat at any good man's feast, +If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear +And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, +Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: +In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. + +DUKE SENIOR +True is it that we have seen better days, +And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church +And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes +Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: +And therefore sit you down in gentleness +And take upon command what help we have +That to your wanting may be minister'd. + +ORLANDO +Then but forbear your food a little while, +Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn +And give it food. There is an old poor man, +Who after me hath many a weary step +Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed, +Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, +I will not touch a bit. + +DUKE SENIOR +Go find him out, +And we will nothing waste till you return. + +ORLANDO +I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: +This wide and universal theatre +Presents more woeful pageants than the scene +Wherein we play in. + +JAQUES +All the world's a stage, +And all the men and women merely players: +They have their exits and their entrances; +And one man in his time plays many parts, +His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, +Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. +And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel +And shining morning face, creeping like snail +Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, +Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad +Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, +Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, +Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, +Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, +In fair round belly with good capon lined, +With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, +Full of wise saws and modern instances; +And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts +Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, +With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, +His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide +For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, +Turning again toward childish treble, pipes +And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, +That ends this strange eventful history, +Is second childishness and mere oblivion, +Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + +Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen, +And let him feed. + +ORLANDO +I thank you most for him. + +ADAM +So had you need: +I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you +As yet, to question you about your fortunes. +Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. +SONG. + +AMIENS +Blow, blow, thou winter wind. +Thou art not so unkind +As man's ingratitude; +Thy tooth is not so keen, +Because thou art not seen, +Although thy breath be rude. +Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: +Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: +Then, heigh-ho, the holly! +This life is most jolly. +Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, +That dost not bite so nigh +As benefits forgot: +Though thou the waters warp, +Thy sting is not so sharp +As friend remember'd not. +Heigh-ho! sing, & c. + +DUKE SENIOR +If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, +As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, +And as mine eye doth his effigies witness +Most truly limn'd and living in your face, +Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke +That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, +Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, +Thou art right welcome as thy master is. +Support him by the arm. Give me your hand, +And let me all your fortunes understand. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER +DUKE FREDERICK +Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: +But were I not the better part made mercy, +I should not seek an absent argument +Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: +Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is; +Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living +Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more +To seek a living in our territory. +Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine +Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, +Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth +Of what we think against thee. + +OLIVER +O that your highness knew my heart in this! +I never loved my brother in my life. + +DUKE FREDERICK +More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; +And let my officers of such a nature +Make an extent upon his house and lands: +Do this expediently and turn him going. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO, with a paper +ORLANDO +Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: +And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey +With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, +Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. +O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books +And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; +That every eye which in this forest looks +Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. +Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree +The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CORIN +And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone? + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good +life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, +it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I +like it very well; but in respect that it is +private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it +is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in +respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As +is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; +but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much +against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? + +CORIN +No more but that I know the more one sickens the +worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, +means and content is without three good friends; +that the property of rain is to wet and fire to +burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a +great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that +he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may +complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred. + +TOUCHSTONE +Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in +court, shepherd? + +CORIN +No, truly. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then thou art damned. + +CORIN +Nay, I hope. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all +on one side. + +CORIN +For not being at court? Your reason. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest +good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, +then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is +sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous +state, shepherd. + +CORIN +Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners +at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the +behavior of the country is most mockable at the +court. You told me you salute not at the court, but +you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be +uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds. + +TOUCHSTONE +Instance, briefly; come, instance. + +CORIN +Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their +fells, you know, are greasy. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not +the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of +a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come. + +CORIN +Besides, our hands are hard. + +TOUCHSTONE +Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. +A more sounder instance, come. + +CORIN +And they are often tarred over with the surgery of +our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The +courtier's hands are perfumed with civet. + +TOUCHSTONE +Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a +good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and +perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the +very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. + +CORIN +You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man! +God make incision in thee! thou art raw. + +CORIN +Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get +that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's +happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my +harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes +graze and my lambs suck. + +TOUCHSTONE +That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes +and the rams together and to offer to get your +living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a +bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a +twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, +out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not +damned for this, the devil himself will have no +shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst +'scape. + +CORIN +Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. + +Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading + +ROSALIND +From the east to western Ind, +No jewel is like Rosalind. +Her worth, being mounted on the wind, +Through all the world bears Rosalind. +All the pictures fairest lined +Are but black to Rosalind. +Let no fair be kept in mind +But the fair of Rosalind. + +TOUCHSTONE +I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and +suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the +right butter-women's rank to market. + +ROSALIND +Out, fool! + +TOUCHSTONE +For a taste: +If a hart do lack a hind, +Let him seek out Rosalind. +If the cat will after kind, +So be sure will Rosalind. +Winter garments must be lined, +So must slender Rosalind. +They that reap must sheaf and bind; +Then to cart with Rosalind. +Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, +Such a nut is Rosalind. +He that sweetest rose will find +Must find love's prick and Rosalind. +This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you +infect yourself with them? + +ROSALIND +Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. + +ROSALIND +I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it +with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit +i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half +ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. + +TOUCHSTONE +You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the +forest judge. + +Enter CELIA, with a writing + +ROSALIND +Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside. + +CELIA +[Reads] +Why should this a desert be? +For it is unpeopled? No: +Tongues I'll hang on every tree, +That shall civil sayings show: +Some, how brief the life of man +Runs his erring pilgrimage, +That the stretching of a span +Buckles in his sum of age; +Some, of violated vows +'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: +But upon the fairest boughs, +Or at every sentence end, +Will I Rosalinda write, +Teaching all that read to know +The quintessence of every sprite +Heaven would in little show. +Therefore Heaven Nature charged +That one body should be fill'd +With all graces wide-enlarged: +Nature presently distill'd +Helen's cheek, but not her heart, +Cleopatra's majesty, +Atalanta's better part, +Sad Lucretia's modesty. +Thus Rosalind of many parts +By heavenly synod was devised, +Of many faces, eyes and hearts, +To have the touches dearest prized. +Heaven would that she these gifts should have, +And I to live and die her slave. + +ROSALIND +O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love +have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never +cried 'Have patience, good people!' + +CELIA +How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little. +Go with him, sirrah. + +TOUCHSTONE +Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; +though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. + +Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +Didst thou hear these verses? + +ROSALIND +O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of +them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. + +CELIA +That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear +themselves without the verse and therefore stood +lamely in the verse. + +CELIA +But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name +should be hanged and carved upon these trees? + +ROSALIND +I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder +before you came; for look here what I found on a +palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since +Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I +can hardly remember. + +CELIA +Trow you who hath done this? + +ROSALIND +Is it a man? + +CELIA +And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. +Change you colour? + +ROSALIND +I prithee, who? + +CELIA +O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to +meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes +and so encounter. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but who is it? + +CELIA +Is it possible? + +ROSALIND +Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence, +tell me who it is. + +CELIA +O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful +wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, +out of all hooping! + +ROSALIND +Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am +caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in +my disposition? One inch of delay more is a +South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it +quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst +stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man +out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- +mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at +all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that +may drink thy tidings. + +CELIA +So you may put a man in your belly. + +ROSALIND +Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his +head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? + +CELIA +Nay, he hath but a little beard. + +ROSALIND +Why, God will send more, if the man will be +thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if +thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. + +CELIA +It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's +heels and your heart both in an instant. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and +true maid. + +CELIA +I' faith, coz, 'tis he. + +ROSALIND +Orlando? + +CELIA +Orlando. + +ROSALIND +Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and +hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said +he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes +him here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? +How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see +him again? Answer me in one word. + +CELIA +You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a +word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To +say ay and no to these particulars is more than to +answer in a catechism. + +ROSALIND +But doth he know that I am in this forest and in +man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the +day he wrestled? + +CELIA +It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the +propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my +finding him, and relish it with good observance. +I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. + +ROSALIND +It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops +forth such fruit. + +CELIA +Give me audience, good madam. + +ROSALIND +Proceed. + +CELIA +There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight. + +ROSALIND +Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well +becomes the ground. + +CELIA +Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets +unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. + +ROSALIND +O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. + +CELIA +I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest +me out of tune. + +ROSALIND +Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must +speak. Sweet, say on. + +CELIA +You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? + +Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES + +ROSALIND +'Tis he: slink by, and note him. + +JAQUES +I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had +as lief have been myself alone. + +ORLANDO +And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you +too for your society. + +JAQUES +God be wi' you: let's meet as little as we can. + +ORLANDO +I do desire we may be better strangers. + +JAQUES +I pray you, mar no more trees with writing +love-songs in their barks. + +ORLANDO +I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading +them ill-favouredly. + +JAQUES +Rosalind is your love's name? + +ORLANDO +Yes, just. + +JAQUES +I do not like her name. + +ORLANDO +There was no thought of pleasing you when she was +christened. + +JAQUES +What stature is she of? + +ORLANDO +Just as high as my heart. + +JAQUES +You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been +acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them +out of rings? + +ORLANDO +Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from +whence you have studied your questions. + +JAQUES +You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of +Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and +we two will rail against our mistress the world and +all our misery. + +ORLANDO +I will chide no breather in the world but myself, +against whom I know most faults. + +JAQUES +The worst fault you have is to be in love. + +ORLANDO +'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. +I am weary of you. + +JAQUES +By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found +you. + +ORLANDO +He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you +shall see him. + +JAQUES +There I shall see mine own figure. + +ORLANDO +Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. + +JAQUES +I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good +Signior Love. + +ORLANDO +I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur +Melancholy. + +Exit JAQUES + +ROSALIND +[Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy +lackey and under that habit play the knave with him. +Do you hear, forester? + +ORLANDO +Very well: what would you? + +ROSALIND +I pray you, what is't o'clock? + +ORLANDO +You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock +in the forest. + +ROSALIND +Then there is no true lover in the forest; else +sighing every minute and groaning every hour would +detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock. + +ORLANDO +And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that +been as proper? + +ROSALIND +By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with +divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles +withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops +withal and who he stands still withal. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, who doth he trot withal? + +ROSALIND +Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the +contract of her marriage and the day it is +solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, +Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of +seven year. + +ORLANDO +Who ambles Time withal? + +ROSALIND +With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that +hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because +he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because +he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean +and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden +of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal. + +ORLANDO +Who doth he gallop withal? + +ROSALIND +With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as +softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. + +ORLANDO +Who stays it still withal? + +ROSALIND +With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between +term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves. + +ORLANDO +Where dwell you, pretty youth? + +ROSALIND +With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the +skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. + +ORLANDO +Are you native of this place? + +ROSALIND +As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled. + +ORLANDO +Your accent is something finer than you could +purchase in so removed a dwelling. + +ROSALIND +I have been told so of many: but indeed an old +religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was +in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship +too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard +him read many lectures against it, and I thank God +I am not a woman, to be touched with so many +giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their +whole sex withal. + +ORLANDO +Can you remember any of the principal evils that he +laid to the charge of women? + +ROSALIND +There were none principal; they were all like one +another as half-pence are, every one fault seeming +monstrous till his fellow fault came to match it. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, recount some of them. + +ROSALIND +No, I will not cast away my physic but on those that +are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that +abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on +their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies +on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of +Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would +give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the +quotidian of love upon him. + +ORLANDO +I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me +your remedy. + +ROSALIND +There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he +taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage +of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner. + +ORLANDO +What were his marks? + +ROSALIND +A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and +sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable +spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected, +which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for +simply your having in beard is a younger brother's +revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your +bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe +untied and every thing about you demonstrating a +careless desolation; but you are no such man; you +are rather point-device in your accoutrements as +loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other. + +ORLANDO +Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love. + +ROSALIND +Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you +love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to +do than to confess she does: that is one of the +points in the which women still give the lie to +their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he +that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind +is so admired? + +ORLANDO +I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of +Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. + +ROSALIND +But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak? + +ORLANDO +Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. + +ROSALIND +Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves +as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and +the reason why they are not so punished and cured +is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers +are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. + +ORLANDO +Did you ever cure any so? + +ROSALIND +Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me +his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to +woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish +youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing +and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, +inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every +passion something and for no passion truly any +thing, as boys and women are for the most part +cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe +him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep +for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor +from his mad humour of love to a living humour of +madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of +the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic. +And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon +me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's +heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't. + +ORLANDO +I would not be cured, youth. + +ROSALIND +I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind +and come every day to my cote and woo me. + +ORLANDO +Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me +where it is. + +ROSALIND +Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way +you shall tell me where in the forest you live. +Will you go? + +ORLANDO +With all my heart, good youth. + +ROSALIND +Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go? + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind +TOUCHSTONE +Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your +goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? +doth my simple feature content you? + +AUDREY +Your features! Lord warrant us! what features! + +TOUCHSTONE +I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most +capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths. + +JAQUES +[Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove +in a thatched house! + +TOUCHSTONE +When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a +man's good wit seconded with the forward child +Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a +great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee poetical. + +AUDREY +I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in +deed and word? is it a true thing? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most +feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what +they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign. + +AUDREY +Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical? + +TOUCHSTONE +I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art +honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some +hope thou didst feign. + +AUDREY +Would you not have me honest? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for +honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar. + +JAQUES +[Aside] A material fool! + +AUDREY +Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods +make me honest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut +were to put good meat into an unclean dish. + +AUDREY +I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul. + +TOUCHSTONE +Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! +sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may +be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been +with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next +village, who hath promised to meet me in this place +of the forest and to couple us. + +JAQUES +[Aside] I would fain see this meeting. + +AUDREY +Well, the gods give us joy! + +TOUCHSTONE +Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, +stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple +but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what +though? C ourage! As horns are odious, they are +necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of +his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and +knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of +his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns? +Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer +hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man +therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more +worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a +married man more honourable than the bare brow of a +bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no +skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to +want. Here comes Sir Oliver. + +Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT + +Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you +dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go +with you to your chapel? + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Is there none here to give the woman? + +TOUCHSTONE +I will not take her on gift of any man. + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful. + +JAQUES +[Advancing] +Proceed, proceed I'll give her. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, good Master What-ye-call't: how do you, +sir? You are very well met: God 'ild you for your +last company: I am very glad to see you: even a +toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered. + +JAQUES +Will you be married, motley? + +TOUCHSTONE +As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and +the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and +as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling. + +JAQUES +And will you, being a man of your breeding, be +married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to +church, and have a good priest that can tell you +what marriage is: this fellow will but join you +together as they join wainscot; then one of you will +prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp. + +TOUCHSTONE +[Aside] I am not in the mind but I were better to be +married of him than of another: for he is not like +to marry me well; and not being well married, it +will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. + +JAQUES +Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Come, sweet Audrey: +We must be married, or we must live in bawdry. +Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,-- +O sweet Oliver, +O brave Oliver, +Leave me not behind thee: but,-- +Wind away, +Begone, I say, +I will not to wedding with thee. + +Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them +all shall flout me out of my calling. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +Never talk to me; I will weep. + +CELIA +Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider +that tears do not become a man. + +ROSALIND +But have I not cause to weep? + +CELIA +As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. + +ROSALIND +His very hair is of the dissembling colour. + +CELIA +Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are +Judas's own children. + +ROSALIND +I' faith, his hair is of a good colour. + +CELIA +An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour. + +ROSALIND +And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch +of holy bread. + +CELIA +He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun +of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; +the very ice of chastity is in them. + +ROSALIND +But why did he swear he would come this morning, and +comes not? + +CELIA +Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. + +ROSALIND +Do you think so? + +CELIA +Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a +horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do +think him as concave as a covered goblet or a +worm-eaten nut. + +ROSALIND +Not true in love? + +CELIA +Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in. + +ROSALIND +You have heard him swear downright he was. + +CELIA +'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is +no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are +both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends +here in the forest on the duke your father. + +ROSALIND +I met the duke yesterday and had much question with +him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told +him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go. +But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a +man as Orlando? + +CELIA +O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, +speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks +them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of +his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse +but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble +goose: but all's brave that youth mounts and folly +guides. Who comes here? + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Mistress and master, you have oft inquired +After the shepherd that complain'd of love, +Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, +Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess +That was his mistress. + +CELIA +Well, and what of him? + +CORIN +If you will see a pageant truly play'd, +Between the pale complexion of true love +And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, +Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, +If you will mark it. + +ROSALIND +O, come, let us remove: +The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. +Bring us to this sight, and you shall say +I'll prove a busy actor in their play. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the forest. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe; +Say that you love me not, but say not so +In bitterness. The common executioner, +Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard, +Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck +But first begs pardon: will you sterner be +Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, behind + +PHEBE +I would not be thy executioner: +I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. +Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: +'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, +That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, +Who shut their coward gates on atomies, +Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! +Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; +And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee: +Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; +Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, +Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! +Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee: +Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains +Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, +The cicatrice and capable impressure +Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes, +Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, +Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes +That can do hurt. + +SILVIUS +O dear Phebe, +If ever,--as that ever may be near,-- +You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, +Then shall you know the wounds invisible +That love's keen arrows make. + +PHEBE +But till that time +Come not thou near me: and when that time comes, +Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; +As till that time I shall not pity thee. + +ROSALIND +And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, +That you insult, exult, and all at once, +Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,-- +As, by my faith, I see no more in you +Than without candle may go dark to bed-- +Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? +Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? +I see no more in you than in the ordinary +Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, +I think she means to tangle my eyes too! +No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it: +'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, +Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, +That can entame my spirits to your worship. +You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, +Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? +You are a thousand times a properer man +Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you +That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children: +'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; +And out of you she sees herself more proper +Than any of her lineaments can show her. +But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees, +And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: +For I must tell you friendly in your ear, +Sell when you can: you are not for all markets: +Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer: +Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. +So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well. + +PHEBE +Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together: +I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. + +ROSALIND +He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll +fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as +she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her +with bitter words. Why look you so upon me? + +PHEBE +For no ill will I bear you. + +ROSALIND +I pray you, do not fall in love with me, +For I am falser than vows made in wine: +Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, +'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. +Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. +Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better, +And be not proud: though all the world could see, +None could be so abused in sight as he. +Come, to our flock. + +Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN + +PHEBE +Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, +'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe,-- + +PHEBE +Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, pity me. + +PHEBE +Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. + +SILVIUS +Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: +If you do sorrow at my grief in love, +By giving love your sorrow and my grief +Were both extermined. + +PHEBE +Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly? + +SILVIUS +I would have you. + +PHEBE +Why, that were covetousness. +Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, +And yet it is not that I bear thee love; +But since that thou canst talk of love so well, +Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, +I will endure, and I'll employ thee too: +But do not look for further recompense +Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd. + +SILVIUS +So holy and so perfect is my love, +And I in such a poverty of grace, +That I shall think it a most plenteous crop +To glean the broken ears after the man +That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then +A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. + +PHEBE +Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile? + +SILVIUS +Not very well, but I have met him oft; +And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds +That the old carlot once was master of. + +PHEBE +Think not I love him, though I ask for him: +'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; +But what care I for words? yet words do well +When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. +It is a pretty youth: not very pretty: +But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him: +He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him +Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue +Did make offence his eye did heal it up. +He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: +His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: +There was a pretty redness in his lip, +A little riper and more lusty red +Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference +Between the constant red and mingled damask. +There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him +In parcels as I did, would have gone near +To fall in love with him; but, for my part, +I love him not nor hate him not; and yet +I have more cause to hate him than to love him: +For what had he to do to chide at me? +He said mine eyes were black and my hair black: +And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: +I marvel why I answer'd not again: +But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. +I'll write to him a very taunting letter, +And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Phebe, with all my heart. + +PHEBE +I'll write it straight; +The matter's in my head and in my heart: +I will be bitter with him and passing short. +Go with me, Silvius. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES +JAQUES +I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted +with thee. + +ROSALIND +They say you are a melancholy fellow. + +JAQUES +I am so; I do love it better than laughing. + +ROSALIND +Those that are in extremity of either are abominable +fellows and betray themselves to every modern +censure worse than drunkards. + +JAQUES +Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. + +ROSALIND +Why then, 'tis good to be a post. + +JAQUES +I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is +emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical, +nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the +soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, +which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor +the lover's, which is all these: but it is a +melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, +extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's +contemplation of my travels, in which my often +rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness. + +ROSALIND +A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to +be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see +other men's; then, to have seen much and to have +nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. + +JAQUES +Yes, I have gained my experience. + +ROSALIND +And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have +a fool to make me merry than experience to make me +sad; and to travel for it too! + +Enter ORLANDO + +ORLANDO +Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! + +JAQUES +Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and +wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your +own country, be out of love with your nativity and +almost chide God for making you that countenance you +are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a +gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been +all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such +another trick, never come in my sight more. + +ORLANDO +My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. + +ROSALIND +Break an hour's promise in love! He that will +divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but +a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the +affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid +hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant +him heart-whole. + +ORLANDO +Pardon me, dear Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I +had as lief be wooed of a snail. + +ORLANDO +Of a snail? + +ROSALIND +Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he +carries his house on his head; a better jointure, +I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings +his destiny with him. + +ORLANDO +What's that? + +ROSALIND +Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be +beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in +his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife. + +ORLANDO +Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. + +ROSALIND +And I am your Rosalind. + +CELIA +It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a +Rosalind of a better leer than you. + +ROSALIND +Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday +humour and like enough to consent. What would you +say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I would kiss before I spoke. + +ROSALIND +Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were +gravelled for lack of matter, you might take +occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are +out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking--God +warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. + +ORLANDO +How if the kiss be denied? + +ROSALIND +Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. + +ORLANDO +Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? + +ROSALIND +Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or +I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. + +ORLANDO +What, of my suit? + +ROSALIND +Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. +Am not I your Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I take some joy to say you are, because I would be +talking of her. + +ROSALIND +Well in her person I say I will not have you. + +ORLANDO +Then in mine own person I die. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is +almost six thousand years old, and in all this time +there was not any man died in his own person, +videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains +dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he +could to die before, and he is one of the patterns +of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair +year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been +for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went +but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being +taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish +coroners of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos.' +But these are all lies: men have died from time to +time and worms have eaten them, but not for love. + +ORLANDO +I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, +for, I protest, her frown might kill me. + +ROSALIND +By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now +I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on +disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant +it. + +ORLANDO +Then love me, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all. + +ORLANDO +And wilt thou have me? + +ROSALIND +Ay, and twenty such. + +ORLANDO +What sayest thou? + +ROSALIND +Are you not good? + +ORLANDO +I hope so. + +ROSALIND +Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? +Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. +Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister? + +ORLANDO +Pray thee, marry us. + +CELIA +I cannot say the words. + +ROSALIND +You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--' + +CELIA +Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I will. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but when? + +ORLANDO +Why now; as fast as she can marry us. + +ROSALIND +Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.' + +ORLANDO +I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. + +ROSALIND +I might ask you for your commission; but I do take +thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes +before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought +runs before her actions. + +ORLANDO +So do all thoughts; they are winged. + +ROSALIND +Now tell me how long you would have her after you +have possessed her. + +ORLANDO +For ever and a day. + +ROSALIND +Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; +men are April when they woo, December when they wed: +maids are May when they are maids, but the sky +changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous +of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, +more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more +new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires +than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana +in the fountain, and I will do that when you are +disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and +that when thou art inclined to sleep. + +ORLANDO +But will my Rosalind do so? + +ROSALIND +By my life, she will do as I do. + +ORLANDO +O, but she is wise. + +ROSALIND +Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the +wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's +wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and +'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly +with the smoke out at the chimney. + +ORLANDO +A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say +'Wit, whither wilt?' + +ROSALIND +Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met +your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. + +ORLANDO +And what wit could wit have to excuse that? + +ROSALIND +Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall +never take her without her answer, unless you take +her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot +make her fault her husband's occasion, let her +never nurse her child herself, for she will breed +it like a fool! + +ORLANDO +For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. + +ROSALIND +Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. + +ORLANDO +I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I +will be with thee again. + +ROSALIND +Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you +would prove: my friends told me as much, and I +thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours +won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come, +death! Two o'clock is your hour? + +ORLANDO +Ay, sweet Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend +me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, +if you break one jot of your promise or come one +minute behind your hour, I will think you the most +pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover +and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that +may be chosen out of the gross band of the +unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep +your promise. + +ORLANDO +With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my +Rosalind: so adieu. + +ROSALIND +Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such +offenders, and let Time try: adieu. + +Exit ORLANDO + +CELIA +You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate: +we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your +head, and show the world what the bird hath done to +her own nest. + +ROSALIND +O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou +didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But +it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown +bottom, like the bay of Portugal. + +CELIA +Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour +affection in, it runs out. + +ROSALIND +No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot +of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness, +that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes +because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I +am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out +of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and +sigh till he come. + +CELIA +And I'll sleep. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters +JAQUES +Which is he that killed the deer? + +A Lord +Sir, it was I. + +JAQUES +Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman +conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's +horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have +you no song, forester, for this purpose? + +Forester +Yes, sir. + +JAQUES +Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it +make noise enough. +SONG. + +Forester +What shall he have that kill'd the deer? +His leather skin and horns to wear. +Then sing him home; + +The rest shall bear this burden + +Take thou no scorn to wear the horn; +It was a crest ere thou wast born: +Thy father's father wore it, +And thy father bore it: +The horn, the horn, the lusty horn +Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and +here much Orlando! + +CELIA +I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he +hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to +sleep. Look, who comes here. + +Enter SILVIUS + +SILVIUS +My errand is to you, fair youth; +My gentle Phebe bid me give you this: +I know not the contents; but, as I guess +By the stern brow and waspish action +Which she did use as she was writing of it, +It bears an angry tenor: pardon me: +I am but as a guiltless messenger. + +ROSALIND +Patience herself would startle at this letter +And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: +She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; +She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, +Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will! +Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: +Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, +This is a letter of your own device. + +SILVIUS +No, I protest, I know not the contents: +Phebe did write it. + +ROSALIND +Come, come, you are a fool +And turn'd into the extremity of love. +I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand. +A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think +That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands: +She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter: +I say she never did invent this letter; +This is a man's invention and his hand. + +SILVIUS +Sure, it is hers. + +ROSALIND +Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style. +A style for-challengers; why, she defies me, +Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain +Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention +Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect +Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter? + +SILVIUS +So please you, for I never heard it yet; +Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. + +ROSALIND +She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. + +Reads + +Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, +That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? +Can a woman rail thus? + +SILVIUS +Call you this railing? + +ROSALIND +[Reads] +Why, thy godhead laid apart, +Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? +Did you ever hear such railing? +Whiles the eye of man did woo me, +That could do no vengeance to me. +Meaning me a beast. +If the scorn of your bright eyne +Have power to raise such love in mine, +Alack, in me what strange effect +Would they work in mild aspect! +Whiles you chid me, I did love; +How then might your prayers move! +He that brings this love to thee +Little knows this love in me: +And by him seal up thy mind; +Whether that thy youth and kind +Will the faithful offer take +Of me and all that I can make; +Or else by him my love deny, +And then I'll study how to die. + +SILVIUS +Call you this chiding? + +CELIA +Alas, poor shepherd! + +ROSALIND +Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt +thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an +instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to +be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see +love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to +her: that if she love me, I charge her to love +thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless +thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, +hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. + +Exit SILVIUS + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, +Where in the purlieus of this forest stands +A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees? + +CELIA +West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom: +The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream +Left on your right hand brings you to the place. +But at this hour the house doth keep itself; +There's none within. + +OLIVER +If that an eye may profit by a tongue, +Then should I know you by description; +Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair, +Of female favour, and bestows himself +Like a ripe sister: the woman low +And browner than her brother.' Are not you +The owner of the house I did inquire for? + +CELIA +It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are. + +OLIVER +Orlando doth commend him to you both, +And to that youth he calls his Rosalind +He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? + +ROSALIND +I am: what must we understand by this? + +OLIVER +Some of my shame; if you will know of me +What man I am, and how, and why, and where +This handkercher was stain'd. + +CELIA +I pray you, tell it. + +OLIVER +When last the young Orlando parted from you +He left a promise to return again +Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, +Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, +Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside, +And mark what object did present itself: +Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age +And high top bald with dry antiquity, +A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, +Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck +A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, +Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd +The opening of his mouth; but suddenly, +Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, +And with indented glides did slip away +Into a bush: under which bush's shade +A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, +Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, +When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis +The royal disposition of that beast +To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: +This seen, Orlando did approach the man +And found it was his brother, his elder brother. + +CELIA +O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; +And he did render him the most unnatural +That lived amongst men. + +OLIVER +And well he might so do, +For well I know he was unnatural. + +ROSALIND +But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, +Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? + +OLIVER +Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; +But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, +And nature, stronger than his just occasion, +Made him give battle to the lioness, +Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling +From miserable slumber I awaked. + +CELIA +Are you his brother? + +ROSALIND +Wast you he rescued? + +CELIA +Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? + +OLIVER +'Twas I; but 'tis not I I do not shame +To tell you what I was, since my conversion +So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. + +ROSALIND +But, for the bloody napkin? + +OLIVER +By and by. +When from the first to last betwixt us two +Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, +As how I came into that desert place:-- +In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, +Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, +Committing me unto my brother's love; +Who led me instantly unto his cave, +There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm +The lioness had torn some flesh away, +Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted +And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. +Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound; +And, after some small space, being strong at heart, +He sent me hither, stranger as I am, +To tell this story, that you might excuse +His broken promise, and to give this napkin +Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth +That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. + +ROSALIND swoons + +CELIA +Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Many will swoon when they do look on blood. + +CELIA +There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Look, he recovers. + +ROSALIND +I would I were at home. + +CELIA +We'll lead you thither. +I pray you, will you take him by the arm? + +OLIVER +Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a +man's heart. + +ROSALIND +I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would +think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell +your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho! + +OLIVER +This was not counterfeit: there is too great +testimony in your complexion that it was a passion +of earnest. + +ROSALIND +Counterfeit, I assure you. + +OLIVER +Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man. + +ROSALIND +So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. + +CELIA +Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw +homewards. Good sir, go with us. + +OLIVER +That will I, for I must bear answer back +How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend +my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. + +AUDREY +Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old +gentleman's saying. + +TOUCHSTONE +A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile +Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the +forest lays claim to you. + +AUDREY +Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in +the world: here comes the man you mean. + +TOUCHSTONE +It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my +troth, we that have good wits have much to answer +for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. + +Enter WILLIAM + +WILLIAM +Good even, Audrey. + +AUDREY +God ye good even, William. + +WILLIAM +And good even to you, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy +head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend? + +WILLIAM +Five and twenty, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A ripe age. Is thy name William? + +WILLIAM +William, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I thank God. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich? + +WILLIAM +Faith, sir, so so. + +TOUCHSTONE +'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and +yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying, +'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man +knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen +philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, +would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; +meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and +lips to open. You do love this maid? + +WILLIAM +I do, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +WILLIAM +No, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it +is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out +of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty +the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse +is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he. + +WILLIAM +Which he, sir? + +TOUCHSTONE +He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you +clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the +society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this +female,--which in the common is woman; which +together is, abandon the society of this female, or, +clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better +understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make +thee away, translate thy life into death, thy +liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with +thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy +with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with +policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: +therefore tremble and depart. + +AUDREY +Do, good William. + +WILLIAM +God rest you merry, sir. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away! + +TOUCHSTONE +Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER +ORLANDO +Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you +should like her? that but seeing you should love +her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should +grant? and will you persever to enjoy her? + +OLIVER +Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the +poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden +wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, +I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me; +consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it +shall be to your good; for my father's house and all +the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I +estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd. + +ORLANDO +You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: +thither will I invite the duke and all's contented +followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look +you, here comes my Rosalind. + +Enter ROSALIND + +ROSALIND +God save you, brother. + +OLIVER +And you, fair sister. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee +wear thy heart in a scarf! + +ORLANDO +It is my arm. + +ROSALIND +I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws +of a lion. + +ORLANDO +Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. + +ROSALIND +Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to +swoon when he showed me your handkerchief? + +ORLANDO +Ay, and greater wonders than that. + +ROSALIND +O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was +never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams +and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and +overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner +met but they looked, no sooner looked but they +loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner +sighed but they asked one another the reason, no +sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; +and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs +to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or +else be incontinent before marriage: they are in +the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs +cannot part them. + +ORLANDO +They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the +duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it +is to look into happiness through another man's +eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at +the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall +think my brother happy in having what he wishes for. + +ROSALIND +Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I can live no longer by thinking. + +ROSALIND +I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. +Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose, +that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I +speak not this that you should bear a good opinion +of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are; +neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in +some little measure draw a belief from you, to do +yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if +you please, that I can do strange things: I have, +since I was three year old, conversed with a +magician, most profound in his art and yet not +damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart +as your gesture cries it out, when your brother +marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into +what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is +not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient +to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human +as she is and without any danger. + +ORLANDO +Speakest thou in sober meanings? + +ROSALIND +By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I +say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your +best array: bid your friends; for if you will be +married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE + +Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. + +PHEBE +Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, +To show the letter that I writ to you. + +ROSALIND +I care not if I have: it is my study +To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: +You are there followed by a faithful shepherd; +Look upon him, love him; he worships you. + +PHEBE +Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of sighs and tears; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of faith and service; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of fantasy, +All made of passion and all made of wishes, +All adoration, duty, and observance, +All humbleness, all patience and impatience, +All purity, all trial, all observance; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And so am I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And so am I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And so am I for no woman. + +PHEBE +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +SILVIUS +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ORLANDO +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ROSALIND +Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?' + +ORLANDO +To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. + +ROSALIND +Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling +of Irish wolves against the moon. + +To SILVIUS + +I will help you, if I can: + +To PHEBE + +I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together. + +To PHEBE + +I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be +married to-morrow: + +To ORLANDO + +I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you +shall be married to-morrow: + +To SILVIUS + +I will content you, if what pleases you contents +you, and you shall be married to-morrow. + +To ORLANDO + +As you love Rosalind, meet: + +To SILVIUS + +as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman, +I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands. + +SILVIUS +I'll not fail, if I live. + +PHEBE +Nor I. + +ORLANDO +Nor I. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will +we be married. + +AUDREY +I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is +no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the +world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages. + +Enter two Pages + +First Page +Well met, honest gentleman. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song. + +Second Page +We are for you: sit i' the middle. + +First Page +Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or +spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only +prologues to a bad voice? + +Second Page +I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two +gipsies on a horse. +SONG. +It was a lover and his lass, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +That o'er the green corn-field did pass +In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, +When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: +Sweet lovers love the spring. +Between the acres of the rye, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino +These pretty country folks would lie, +In spring time, & c. +This carol they began that hour, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +How that a life was but a flower +In spring time, & c. +And therefore take the present time, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; +For love is crowned with the prime +In spring time, & c. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great +matter in the ditty, yet the note was very +untuneable. + +First Page +You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear +such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend +your voices! Come, Audrey. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA +DUKE SENIOR +Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy +Can do all this that he hath promised? + +ORLANDO +I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; +As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. + +Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE + +ROSALIND +Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged: +You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, +You will bestow her on Orlando here? + +DUKE SENIOR +That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. + +ROSALIND +And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? + +ORLANDO +That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. + +ROSALIND +You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? + +PHEBE +That will I, should I die the hour after. + +ROSALIND +But if you do refuse to marry me, +You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? + +PHEBE +So is the bargain. + +ROSALIND +You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? + +SILVIUS +Though to have her and death were both one thing. + +ROSALIND +I have promised to make all this matter even. +Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter; +You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter: +Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, +Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd: +Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her. +If she refuse me: and from hence I go, +To make these doubts all even. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +DUKE SENIOR +I do remember in this shepherd boy +Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. + +ORLANDO +My lord, the first time that I ever saw him +Methought he was a brother to your daughter: +But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, +And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments +Of many desperate studies by his uncle, +Whom he reports to be a great magician, +Obscured in the circle of this forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +JAQUES +There is, sure, another flood toward, and these +couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of +very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. + +TOUCHSTONE +Salutation and greeting to you all! + +JAQUES +Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the +motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in +the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears. + +TOUCHSTONE +If any man doubt that, let him put me to my +purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered +a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth +with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have +had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. + +JAQUES +And how was that ta'en up? + +TOUCHSTONE +Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the +seventh cause. + +JAQUES +How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow. + +DUKE SENIOR +I like him very well. + +TOUCHSTONE +God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I +press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country +copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as +marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin, +sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor +humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else +will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a +poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. + +DUKE SENIOR +By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. + +TOUCHSTONE +According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. + +JAQUES +But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the +quarrel on the seventh cause? + +TOUCHSTONE +Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more +seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the +cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, +if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the +mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous. +If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he +would send me word, he cut it to please himself: +this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was +not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is +called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this +is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the +Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie +Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. + +JAQUES +And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut? + +TOUCHSTONE +I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, +nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we +measured swords and parted. + +JAQUES +Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? + +TOUCHSTONE +O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have +books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. +The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the +Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the +fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the +Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with +Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All +these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may +avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven +justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the +parties were met themselves, one of them thought but +of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and +they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the +only peacemaker; much virtue in If. + +JAQUES +Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at +any thing and yet a fool. + +DUKE SENIOR +He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under +the presentation of that he shoots his wit. + +Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA + +Still Music + +HYMEN +Then is there mirth in heaven, +When earthly things made even +Atone together. +Good duke, receive thy daughter +Hymen from heaven brought her, +Yea, brought her hither, +That thou mightst join her hand with his +Whose heart within his bosom is. + +ROSALIND +[To DUKE SENIOR] To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +To ORLANDO + +To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +DUKE SENIOR +If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. + +ORLANDO +If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. + +PHEBE +If sight and shape be true, +Why then, my love adieu! + +ROSALIND +I'll have no father, if you be not he: +I'll have no husband, if you be not he: +Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. + +HYMEN +Peace, ho! I bar confusion: +'Tis I must make conclusion +Of these most strange events: +Here's eight that must take hands +To join in Hymen's bands, +If truth holds true contents. +You and you no cross shall part: +You and you are heart in heart +You to his love must accord, +Or have a woman to your lord: +You and you are sure together, +As the winter to foul weather. +Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, +Feed yourselves with questioning; +That reason wonder may diminish, +How thus we met, and these things finish. +SONG. +Wedding is great Juno's crown: +O blessed bond of board and bed! +'Tis Hymen peoples every town; +High wedlock then be honoured: +Honour, high honour and renown, +To Hymen, god of every town! + +DUKE SENIOR +O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me! +Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree. + +PHEBE +I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; +Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. + +Enter JAQUES DE BOYS + +JAQUES DE BOYS +Let me have audience for a word or two: +I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, +That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. +Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day +Men of great worth resorted to this forest, +Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot, +In his own conduct, purposely to take +His brother here and put him to the sword: +And to the skirts of this wild wood he came; +Where meeting with an old religious man, +After some question with him, was converted +Both from his enterprise and from the world, +His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, +And all their lands restored to them again +That were with him exiled. This to be true, +I do engage my life. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome, young man; +Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: +To one his lands withheld, and to the other +A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. +First, in this forest, let us do those ends +That here were well begun and well begot: +And after, every of this happy number +That have endured shrewd days and nights with us +Shall share the good of our returned fortune, +According to the measure of their states. +Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity +And fall into our rustic revelry. +Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, +With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall. + +JAQUES +Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly, +The duke hath put on a religious life +And thrown into neglect the pompous court? + +JAQUES DE BOYS +He hath. + +JAQUES +To him will I : out of these convertites +There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. + +To DUKE SENIOR + +You to your former honour I bequeath; +Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: + +To ORLANDO + +You to a love that your true faith doth merit: + +To OLIVER + +You to your land and love and great allies: + +To SILVIUS + +You to a long and well-deserved bed: + +To TOUCHSTONE + +And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage +Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures: +I am for other than for dancing measures. + +DUKE SENIOR +Stay, Jaques, stay. + +JAQUES +To see no pastime I what you would have +I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, +As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. + +A dance + +EPILOGUE + +ROSALIND +It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; +but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord +the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs +no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no +epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, +and good plays prove the better by the help of good +epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am +neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with +you in the behalf of a good play! I am not +furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not +become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin +with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love +you bear to men, to like as much of this play as +please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love +you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering, +none of you hates them--that between you and the +women the play may please. If I were a woman I +would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased +me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I +defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good +beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my +kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. + +Exeunt +The Comedy of Errors +Shakespeare homepage | Comedy of Errors | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace. + +Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants +AEGEON +Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall +And by the doom of death end woes and all. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more; +I am not partial to infringe our laws: +The enmity and discord which of late +Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke +To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, +Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives +Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, +Excludes all pity from our threatening looks. +For, since the mortal and intestine jars +'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, +It hath in solemn synods been decreed +Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, +To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more, +If any born at Ephesus be seen +At any Syracusian marts and fairs; +Again: if any Syracusian born +Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, +His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose, +Unless a thousand marks be levied, +To quit the penalty and to ransom him. +Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, +Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; +Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. + +AEGEON +Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, +My woes end likewise with the evening sun. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause +Why thou departed'st from thy native home +And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus. + +AEGEON +A heavier task could not have been imposed +Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: +Yet, that the world may witness that my end +Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, +I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave. +In Syracusa was I born, and wed +Unto a woman, happy but for me, +And by me, had not our hap been bad. +With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased +By prosperous voyages I often made +To Epidamnum; till my factor's death +And the great care of goods at random left +Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse: +From whom my absence was not six months old +Before herself, almost at fainting under +The pleasing punishment that women bear, +Had made provision for her following me +And soon and safe arrived where I was. +There had she not been long, but she became +A joyful mother of two goodly sons; +And, which was strange, the one so like the other, +As could not be distinguish'd but by names. +That very hour, and in the self-same inn, +A meaner woman was delivered +Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: +Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,-- +I bought and brought up to attend my sons. +My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, +Made daily motions for our home return: +Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon, +We came aboard. +A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, +Before the always wind-obeying deep +Gave any tragic instance of our harm: +But longer did we not retain much hope; +For what obscured light the heavens did grant +Did but convey unto our fearful minds +A doubtful warrant of immediate death; +Which though myself would gladly have embraced, +Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, +Weeping before for what she saw must come, +And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, +That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, +Forced me to seek delays for them and me. +And this it was, for other means was none: +The sailors sought for safety by our boat, +And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us: +My wife, more careful for the latter-born, +Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, +Such as seafaring men provide for storms; +To him one of the other twins was bound, +Whilst I had been like heedful of the other: +The children thus disposed, my wife and I, +Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, +Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast; +And floating straight, obedient to the stream, +Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. +At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, +Dispersed those vapours that offended us; +And by the benefit of his wished light, +The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered +Two ships from far making amain to us, +Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: +But ere they came,--O, let me say no more! +Gather the sequel by that went before. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so; +For we may pity, though not pardon thee. + +AEGEON +O, had the gods done so, I had not now +Worthily term'd them merciless to us! +For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, +We were encounterd by a mighty rock; +Which being violently borne upon, +Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; +So that, in this unjust divorce of us, +Fortune had left to both of us alike +What to delight in, what to sorrow for. +Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened +With lesser weight but not with lesser woe, +Was carried with more speed before the wind; +And in our sight they three were taken up +By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. +At length, another ship had seized on us; +And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, +Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests; +And would have reft the fishers of their prey, +Had not their bark been very slow of sail; +And therefore homeward did they bend their course. +Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; +That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, +To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. + +DUKE SOLINUS +And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, +Do me the favour to dilate at full +What hath befall'n of them and thee till now. + +AEGEON +My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, +At eighteen years became inquisitive +After his brother: and importuned me +That his attendant--so his case was like, +Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name-- +Might bear him company in the quest of him: +Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, +I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. +Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, +Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, +And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; +Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought +Or that or any place that harbours men. +But here must end the story of my life; +And happy were I in my timely death, +Could all my travels warrant me they live. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd +To bear the extremity of dire mishap! +Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, +Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, +Which princes, would they, may not disannul, +My soul would sue as advocate for thee. +But, though thou art adjudged to the death +And passed sentence may not be recall'd +But to our honour's great disparagement, +Yet I will favour thee in what I can. +Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day +To seek thy life by beneficial help: +Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; +Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, +And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die. +Gaoler, take him to thy custody. + +Gaoler +I will, my lord. + +AEGEON +Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend, +But to procrastinate his lifeless end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Mart. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant +First Merchant +Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, +Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. +This very day a Syracusian merchant +Is apprehended for arrival here; +And not being able to buy out his life +According to the statute of the town, +Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. +There is your money that I had to keep. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, +And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. +Within this hour it will be dinner-time: +Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, +Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, +And then return and sleep within mine inn, +For with long travel I am stiff and weary. +Get thee away. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Many a man would take you at your word, +And go indeed, having so good a mean. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, +When I am dull with care and melancholy, +Lightens my humour with his merry jests. +What, will you walk with me about the town, +And then go to my inn and dine with me? + +First Merchant +I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, +Of whom I hope to make much benefit; +I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, +Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart +And afterward consort you till bed-time: +My present business calls me from you now. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Farewell till then: I will go lose myself +And wander up and down to view the city. + +First Merchant +Sir, I commend you to your own content. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +He that commends me to mine own content +Commends me to the thing I cannot get. +I to the world am like a drop of water +That in the ocean seeks another drop, +Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, +Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: +So I, to find a mother and a brother, +In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +Here comes the almanac of my true date. +What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late: +The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, +The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; +My mistress made it one upon my cheek: +She is so hot because the meat is cold; +The meat is cold because you come not home; +You come not home because you have no stomach; +You have no stomach having broke your fast; +But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray +Are penitent for your default to-day. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: +Where have you left the money that I gave you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last +To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? +The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I am not in a sportive humour now: +Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? +We being strangers here, how darest thou trust +So great a charge from thine own custody? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner: +I from my mistress come to you in post; +If I return, I shall be post indeed, +For she will score your fault upon my pate. +Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock, +And strike you home without a messenger. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; +Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. +Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, +And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +My charge was but to fetch you from the mart +Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: +My mistress and her sister stays for you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, +Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours +That stands on tricks when I am undisposed: +Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I have some marks of yours upon my pate, +Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, +But not a thousand marks between you both. +If I should pay your worship those again, +Perchance you will not bear them patiently. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; +She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, +And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, +Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! +Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Upon my life, by some device or other +The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. +They say this town is full of cozenage, +As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, +Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, +Soul-killing witches that deform the body, +Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, +And many such-like liberties of sin: +If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. +I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: +I greatly fear my money is not safe. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA +ADRIANA +Neither my husband nor the slave return'd, +That in such haste I sent to seek his master! +Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. + +LUCIANA +Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, +And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. +Good sister, let us dine and never fret: +A man is master of his liberty: +Time is their master, and, when they see time, +They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister. + +ADRIANA +Why should their liberty than ours be more? + +LUCIANA +Because their business still lies out o' door. + +ADRIANA +Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. + +LUCIANA +O, know he is the bridle of your will. + +ADRIANA +There's none but asses will be bridled so. + +LUCIANA +Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. +There's nothing situate under heaven's eye +But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: +The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, +Are their males' subjects and at their controls: +Men, more divine, the masters of all these, +Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, +Indued with intellectual sense and souls, +Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, +Are masters to their females, and their lords: +Then let your will attend on their accords. + +ADRIANA +This servitude makes you to keep unwed. + +LUCIANA +Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. + +ADRIANA +But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. + +LUCIANA +Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. + +ADRIANA +How if your husband start some other where? + +LUCIANA +Till he come home again, I would forbear. + +ADRIANA +Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; +They can be meek that have no other cause. +A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, +We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; +But were we burdened with like weight of pain, +As much or more would we ourselves complain: +So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, +With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, +But, if thou live to see like right bereft, +This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. + +LUCIANA +Well, I will marry one day, but to try. +Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +ADRIANA +Say, is your tardy master now at hand? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears +can witness. + +ADRIANA +Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: +Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. + +LUCIANA +Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his +blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce +understand them. + +ADRIANA +But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he +hath great care to please his wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. + +ADRIANA +Horn-mad, thou villain! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I mean not cuckold-mad; +But, sure, he is stark mad. +When I desired him to come home to dinner, +He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: +''Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he; +'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he: +'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he. +'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?' +'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he: +'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress! +I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!' + +LUCIANA +Quoth who? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Quoth my master: +'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' +So that my errand, due unto my tongue, +I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; +For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. + +ADRIANA +Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Go back again, and be new beaten home? +For God's sake, send some other messenger. + +ADRIANA +Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And he will bless that cross with other beating: +Between you I shall have a holy head. + +ADRIANA +Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Am I so round with you as you with me, +That like a football you do spurn me thus? +You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: +If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. + +Exit + +LUCIANA +Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! + +ADRIANA +His company must do his minions grace, +Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. +Hath homely age the alluring beauty took +From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: +Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? +If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, +Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard: +Do their gay vestments his affections bait? +That's not my fault: he's master of my state: +What ruins are in me that can be found, +By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground +Of my defeatures. My decayed fair +A sunny look of his would soon repair +But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale +And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. + +LUCIANA +Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence! + +ADRIANA +Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. +I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, +Or else what lets it but he would be here? +Sister, you know he promised me a chain; +Would that alone, alone he would detain, +So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! +I see the jewel best enamelled +Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, +That others touch, and often touching will +Wear gold: and no man that hath a name, +By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. +Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, +I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. + +LUCIANA +How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up +Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave +Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out +By computation and mine host's report. +I could not speak with Dromio since at first +I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. + +Enter DROMIO of Syracuse + +How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd? +As you love strokes, so jest with me again. +You know no Centaur? you received no gold? +Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? +My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, +That thus so madly thou didst answer me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Even now, even here, not half an hour since. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I did not see you since you sent me hence, +Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, +And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; +For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am glad to see you in this merry vein: +What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? +Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. + +Beating him + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest: +Upon what bargain do you give it me? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Because that I familiarly sometimes +Do use you for my fool and chat with you, +Your sauciness will jest upon my love +And make a common of my serious hours. +When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, +But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. +If you will jest with me, know my aspect, +And fashion your demeanor to my looks, +Or I will beat this method in your sconce. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I +had rather have it a head: an you use these blows +long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce +it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. +But, I pray, sir why am I beaten? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Dost thou not know? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Shall I tell you why? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath +a wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore-- +For urging it the second time to me. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, +When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme +nor reason? +Well, sir, I thank you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thank me, sir, for what? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for +something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In good time, sir; what's that? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Your reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another +dry basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By what rule, sir? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald +pate of father Time himself. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Let's hear it. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +There's no time for a man to recover his hair that +grows bald by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +May he not do it by fine and recovery? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the +lost hair of another man. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, +so plentiful an excrement? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; +and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth +it in a kind of jollity. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +For what reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +For two; and sound ones too. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sound, I pray you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sure ones, then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Certain ones then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Name them. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The one, to save the money that he spends in +trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not +drop in his porridge. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +You would all this time have proved there is no +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair +lost by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +But your reason was not substantial, why there is no +time to recover. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore +to the world's end will have bald followers. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: +But, soft! who wafts us yonder? + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA + +ADRIANA +Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown: +Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects; +I am not Adriana nor thy wife. +The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow +That never words were music to thine ear, +That never object pleasing in thine eye, +That never touch well welcome to thy hand, +That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste, +Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee. +How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it, +That thou art thus estranged from thyself? +Thyself I call it, being strange to me, +That, undividable, incorporate, +Am better than thy dear self's better part. +Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! +For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall +A drop of water in the breaking gulf, +And take unmingled that same drop again, +Without addition or diminishing, +As take from me thyself and not me too. +How dearly would it touch me to the quick, +Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious +And that this body, consecrate to thee, +By ruffian lust should be contaminate! +Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me +And hurl the name of husband in my face +And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow +And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring +And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? +I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it. +I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; +My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: +For if we too be one and thou play false, +I do digest the poison of thy flesh, +Being strumpeted by thy contagion. +Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed; +I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: +In Ephesus I am but two hours old, +As strange unto your town as to your talk; +Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, +Want wit in all one word to understand. + +LUCIANA +Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you! +When were you wont to use my sister thus? +She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +By me? + +ADRIANA +By thee; and this thou didst return from him, +That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, +Denied my house for his, me for his wife. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? +What is the course and drift of your compact? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir? I never saw her till this time. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou liest; for even her very words +Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I never spake with her in all my life. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +How can she thus then call us by our names, +Unless it be by inspiration. + +ADRIANA +How ill agrees it with your gravity +To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, +Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! +Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, +But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. +Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: +Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, +Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, +Makes me with thy strength to communicate: +If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, +Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; +Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion +Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: +What, was I married to her in my dream? +Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? +What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? +Until I know this sure uncertainty, +I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. + +LUCIANA +Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. +This is the fairy land: O spite of spites! +We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: +If we obey them not, this will ensue, +They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. + +LUCIANA +Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? +Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am transformed, master, am I not? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I think thou art in mind, and so am I. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thou hast thine own form. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, I am an ape. + +LUCIANA +If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass. +'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be +But I should know her as well as she knows me. + +ADRIANA +Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, +To put the finger in the eye and weep, +Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. +Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. +Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day +And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. +Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, +Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. +Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? +Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? +Known unto these, and to myself disguised! +I'll say as they say and persever so, +And in this mist at all adventures go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, shall I be porter at the gate? + +ADRIANA +Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. + +LUCIANA +Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; +My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: +Say that I linger'd with you at your shop +To see the making of her carcanet, +And that to-morrow you will bring it home. +But here's a villain that would face me down +He met me on the mart, and that I beat him, +And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, +And that I did deny my wife and house. +Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know; +That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: +If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, +Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +I think thou art an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Marry, so it doth appear +By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. +I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass, +You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer +May answer my good will and your good welcome here. + +BALTHAZAR +I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your +welcome dear. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, +A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish. + +BALTHAZAR +Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. + +BALTHAZAR +Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: +But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; +Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. +But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, +idiot, patch! +Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch. +Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st +for such store, +When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What patch is made our porter? My master stays in +the street. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he +catch cold on's feet. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Who talks within there? ho, open the door! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell +me wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Nor to-day here you must not; come again +when you may. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] The porter for this time, sir, and my name +is Dromio. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name. +The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. +If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, +Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy +name for an ass. + +LUCE +[Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those +at the gate? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Let my master in, Luce. + +LUCE +[Within] Faith, no; he comes too late; +And so tell your master. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O Lord, I must laugh! +Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff? + +LUCE +[Within] Have at you with another; that's--When? +can you tell? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast +answered him well. + +ANTIPHOLUS +Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? +OF EPHESUS + +LUCE +[Within] I thought to have asked you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] And you said no. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Thou baggage, let me in. + +LUCE +[Within] Can you tell for whose sake? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, knock the door hard. + +LUCE +[Within] Let him knock till it ache. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. + +LUCE +[Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? + +ADRIANA +[Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all +this noise? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with +unruly boys. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Are you there, wife? you might have come before. + +ADRIANA +[Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore. + +ANGELO +Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would +fain have either. + +BALTHAZAR +In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. +Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: +It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your +knave's pate. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind, +Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon +thee, hind! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee, +let me in. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? +For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather; +If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. + +BALTHAZAR +Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so! +Herein you war against your reputation +And draw within the compass of suspect +The unviolated honour of your wife. +Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom, +Her sober virtue, years and modesty, +Plead on her part some cause to you unknown: +And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse +Why at this time the doors are made against you. +Be ruled by me: depart in patience, +And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, +And about evening come yourself alone +To know the reason of this strange restraint. +If by strong hand you offer to break in +Now in the stirring passage of the day, +A vulgar comment will be made of it, +And that supposed by the common rout +Against your yet ungalled estimation +That may with foul intrusion enter in +And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; +For slander lives upon succession, +For ever housed where it gets possession. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet, +And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. +I know a wench of excellent discourse, +Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle: +There will we dine. This woman that I mean, +My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- +Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal: +To her will we to dinner. + +To Angelo + +Get you home +And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made: +Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine; +For there's the house: that chain will I bestow-- +Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-- +Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste. +Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, +I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. + +The First part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others +KING HENRY IV +So shaken as we are, so wan with care, +Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, +And breathe short-winded accents of new broils +To be commenced in strands afar remote. +No more the thirsty entrance of this soil +Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; +Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, +Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs +Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, +Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, +All of one nature, of one substance bred, +Did lately meet in the intestine shock +And furious close of civil butchery +Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, +March all one way and be no more opposed +Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: +The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, +No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, +As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, +Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross +We are impressed and engaged to fight, +Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; +Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb +To chase these pagans in those holy fields +Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet +Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd +For our advantage on the bitter cross. +But this our purpose now is twelve month old, +And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: +Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear +Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, +What yesternight our council did decree +In forwarding this dear expedience. + +WESTMORELAND +My liege, this haste was hot in question, +And many limits of the charge set down +But yesternight: when all athwart there came +A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; +Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, +Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight +Against the irregular and wild Glendower, +Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, +A thousand of his people butchered; +Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, +Such beastly shameless transformation, +By those Welshwomen done as may not be +Without much shame retold or spoken of. + +KING HENRY IV +It seems then that the tidings of this broil +Brake off our business for the Holy Land. + +WESTMORELAND +This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; +For more uneven and unwelcome news +Came from the north and thus it did import: +On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there, +Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald, +That ever-valiant and approved Scot, +At Holmedon met, +Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour, +As by discharge of their artillery, +And shape of likelihood, the news was told; +For he that brought them, in the very heat +And pride of their contention did take horse, +Uncertain of the issue any way. + +KING HENRY IV +Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, +Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse. +Stain'd with the variation of each soil +Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; +And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. +The Earl of Douglas is discomfited: +Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, +Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see +On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took +Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son +To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, +Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith: +And is not this an honourable spoil? +A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? + +WESTMORELAND +In faith, +It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. + +KING HENRY IV +Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin +In envy that my Lord Northumberland +Should be the father to so blest a son, +A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; +Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; +Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: +Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, +See riot and dishonour stain the brow +Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved +That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged +In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, +And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! +Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. +But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, +Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, +Which he in this adventure hath surprised, +To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, +I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. + +WESTMORELAND +This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester, +Malevolent to you in all aspects; +Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up +The crest of youth against your dignity. + +KING HENRY IV +But I have sent for him to answer this; +And for this cause awhile we must neglect +Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. +Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we +Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: +But come yourself with speed to us again; +For more is to be said and to be done +Than out of anger can be uttered. + +WESTMORELAND +I will, my liege. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. + +Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF +FALSTAFF +Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack +and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon +benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to +demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. +What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the +day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes +capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the +signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself +a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no +reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand +the time of the day. + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take +purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not +by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And, +I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God +save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace +thou wilt have none,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, none? + +FALSTAFF +No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to +prologue to an egg and butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. + +FALSTAFF +Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not +us that are squires of the night's body be called +thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's +foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the +moon; and let men say we be men of good government, +being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and +chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the +fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and +flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, +by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold +most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most +dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with +swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;' +now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder +and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my +hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? + +PRINCE HENRY +As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And +is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? + +FALSTAFF +How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and +thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a +buff jerkin? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a +time and oft. + +PRINCE HENRY +Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? + +FALSTAFF +No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; +and where it would not, I have used my credit. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent +that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet +wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when +thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is +with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do +not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. + +PRINCE HENRY +No; thou shalt. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have +the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. + +FALSTAFF +Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my +humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell +you. + +PRINCE HENRY +For obtaining of suits? + +FALSTAFF +Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman +hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy +as a gib cat or a lugged bear. + +PRINCE HENRY +Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. + +PRINCE HENRY +What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of +Moor-ditch? + +FALSTAFF +Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed +the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young +prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more +with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a +commodity of good names were to be bought. An old +lord of the council rated me the other day in the +street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet +he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and +yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the +streets, and no man regards it. + +FALSTAFF +O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able +to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon +me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew +thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man +should speak truly, little better than one of the +wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give +it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: +I'll be damned for never a king's son in +Christendom. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I +do not, call me villain and baffle me. + +PRINCE HENRY +I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying +to purse-taking. + +FALSTAFF +Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a +man to labour in his vocation. + +Enter POINS + +Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a +match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what +hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the +most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to +a true man. + +PRINCE HENRY +Good morrow, Ned. + +POINS +Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? +what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how +agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou +soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira +and a cold capon's leg? + +PRINCE HENRY +Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have +his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of +proverbs: he will give the devil his due. + +POINS +Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. + +PRINCE HENRY +Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. + +POINS +But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four +o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going +to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders +riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards +for you all; you have horses for yourselves: +Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke +supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it +as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff +your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry +at home and be hanged. + +FALSTAFF +Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, +I'll hang you for going. + +POINS +You will, chops? + +FALSTAFF +Hal, wilt thou make one? + +PRINCE HENRY +Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. + +FALSTAFF +There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good +fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood +royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. + +FALSTAFF +Why, that's well said. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. + +PRINCE HENRY +I care not. + +POINS +Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: +I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure +that he shall go. + +FALSTAFF +Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him +the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may +move and what he hears may be believed, that the +true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false +thief; for the poor abuses of the time want +countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! + +Exit Falstaff + +POINS +Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us +to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot +manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill +shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: +yourself and I will not be there; and when they +have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut +this head off from my shoulders. + +PRINCE HENRY +How shall we part with them in setting forth? + +POINS +Why, we will set forth before or after them, and +appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at +our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure +upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have +no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our +horses, by our habits and by every other +appointment, to be ourselves. + +POINS +Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them +in the wood; our vizards we will change after we +leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram +for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. + +POINS +Well, for two of them, I know them to be as +true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the +third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll +forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the +incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will +tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at +least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what +extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this +lies the jest. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things +necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; +there I'll sup. Farewell. + +POINS +Farewell, my lord. + +Exit Poins + +PRINCE HENRY +I know you all, and will awhile uphold +The unyoked humour of your idleness: +Yet herein will I imitate the sun, +Who doth permit the base contagious clouds +To smother up his beauty from the world, +That, when he please again to be himself, +Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, +By breaking through the foul and ugly mists +Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. +If all the year were playing holidays, +To sport would be as tedious as to work; +But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, +And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. +So, when this loose behavior I throw off +And pay the debt I never promised, +By how much better than my word I am, +By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; +And like bright metal on a sullen ground, +My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, +Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes +Than that which hath no foil to set it off. +I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; +Redeeming time when men think least I will. + +Exit + +SCENE III. London. The palace. + +Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others +KING HENRY IV +My blood hath been too cold and temperate, +Unapt to stir at these indignities, +And you have found me; for accordingly +You tread upon my patience: but be sure +I will from henceforth rather be myself, +Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition; +Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, +And therefore lost that title of respect +Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves +The scourge of greatness to be used on it; +And that same greatness too which our own hands +Have holp to make so portly. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord.-- + +KING HENRY IV +Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see +Danger and disobedience in thine eye: +O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, +And majesty might never yet endure +The moody frontier of a servant brow. +You have good leave to leave us: when we need +Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. + +Exit Worcester + +You were about to speak. + +To North + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, my good lord. +Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded, +Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, +Were, as he says, not with such strength denied +As is deliver'd to your majesty: +Either envy, therefore, or misprison +Is guilty of this fault and not my son. + +HOTSPUR +My liege, I did deny no prisoners. +But I remember, when the fight was done, +When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, +Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, +Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, +Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd +Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; +He was perfumed like a milliner; +And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held +A pouncet-box, which ever and anon +He gave his nose and took't away again; +Who therewith angry, when it next came there, +Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, +And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, +He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly, +To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse +Betwixt the wind and his nobility. +With many holiday and lady terms +He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded +My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. +I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, +To be so pester'd with a popinjay, +Out of my grief and my impatience, +Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, +He should or he should not; for he made me mad +To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet +And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman +Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!-- +And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth +Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; +And that it was great pity, so it was, +This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd +Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, +Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd +So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, +He would himself have been a soldier. +This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, +I answer'd indirectly, as I said; +And I beseech you, let not his report +Come current for an accusation +Betwixt my love and your high majesty. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, +Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said +To such a person and in such a place, +At such a time, with all the rest retold, +May reasonably die and never rise +To do him wrong or any way impeach +What then he said, so he unsay it now. + +KING HENRY IV +Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, +But with proviso and exception, +That we at our own charge shall ransom straight +His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; +Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd +The lives of those that he did lead to fight +Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower, +Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March +Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then, +Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? +Shall we but treason? and indent with fears, +When they have lost and forfeited themselves? +No, on the barren mountains let him starve; +For I shall never hold that man my friend +Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost +To ransom home revolted Mortimer. + +HOTSPUR +Revolted Mortimer! +He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, +But by the chance of war; to prove that true +Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, +Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took +When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, +In single opposition, hand to hand, +He did confound the best part of an hour +In changing hardiment with great Glendower: +Three times they breathed and three times did +they drink, +Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; +Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, +Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, +And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, +Bloodstained with these valiant combatants. +Never did base and rotten policy +Colour her working with such deadly wounds; +Nor could the noble Mortimer +Receive so many, and all willingly: +Then let not him be slander'd with revolt. + +KING HENRY IV +Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him; +He never did encounter with Glendower: +I tell thee, +He durst as well have met the devil alone +As Owen Glendower for an enemy. +Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth +Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer: +Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, +Or you shall hear in such a kind from me +As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, +We licence your departure with your son. +Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. + +Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train + +HOTSPUR +An if the devil come and roar for them, +I will not send them: I will after straight +And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, +Albeit I make a hazard of my head. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile: +Here comes your uncle. + +Re-enter WORCESTER + +HOTSPUR +Speak of Mortimer! +'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul +Want mercy, if I do not join with him: +Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, +And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, +But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer +As high in the air as this unthankful king, +As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Who struck this heat up after I was gone? + +HOTSPUR +He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; +And when I urged the ransom once again +Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, +And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, +Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd +By Richard that dead is the next of blood? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He was; I heard the proclamation: +And then it was when the unhappy king, +--Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth +Upon his Irish expedition; +From whence he intercepted did return +To be deposed and shortly murdered. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth +Live scandalized and foully spoken of. + +HOTSPUR +But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then +Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer +Heir to the crown? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He did; myself did hear it. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, +That wished him on the barren mountains starve. +But shall it be that you, that set the crown +Upon the head of this forgetful man +And for his sake wear the detested blot +Of murderous subornation, shall it be, +That you a world of curses undergo, +Being the agents, or base second means, +The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? +O, pardon me that I descend so low, +To show the line and the predicament +Wherein you range under this subtle king; +Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, +Or fill up chronicles in time to come, +That men of your nobility and power +Did gage them both in an unjust behalf, +As both of you--God pardon it!--have done, +To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, +An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? +And shall it in more shame be further spoken, +That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off +By him for whom these shames ye underwent? +No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem +Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves +Into the good thoughts of the world again, +Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt +Of this proud king, who studies day and night +To answer all the debt he owes to you +Even with the bloody payment of your deaths: +Therefore, I say-- + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Peace, cousin, say no more: +And now I will unclasp a secret book, +And to your quick-conceiving discontents +I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, +As full of peril and adventurous spirit +As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud +On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. + +HOTSPUR +If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: +Send danger from the east unto the west, +So honour cross it from the north to south, +And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs +To rouse a lion than to start a hare! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Imagination of some great exploit +Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. + +HOTSPUR +By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, +To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, +Or dive into the bottom of the deep, +Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, +And pluck up drowned honour by the locks; +So he that doth redeem her thence might wear +Without corrival, all her dignities: +But out upon this half-faced fellowship! + +EARL OF WORCESTER +He apprehends a world of figures here, +But not the form of what he should attend. +Good cousin, give me audience for a while. + +HOTSPUR +I cry you mercy. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Those same noble Scots +That are your prisoners,-- + +HOTSPUR +I'll keep them all; +By God, he shall not have a Scot of them; +No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: +I'll keep them, by this hand. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +You start away +And lend no ear unto my purposes. +Those prisoners you shall keep. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, I will; that's flat: +He said he would not ransom Mortimer; +Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; +But I will find him when he lies asleep, +And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!' +Nay, +I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak +Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him +To keep his anger still in motion. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Hear you, cousin; a word. + +HOTSPUR +All studies here I solemnly defy, +Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: +And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, +But that I think his father loves him not +And would be glad he met with some mischance, +I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you +When you are better temper'd to attend. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool +Art thou to break into this woman's mood, +Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! + +HOTSPUR +Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods, +Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear +Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. +In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?-- +A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire; +'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, +His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee +Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,-- +'Sblood!-- +When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +At Berkley castle. + +HOTSPUR +You say true: +Why, what a candy deal of courtesy +This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! +Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,' +And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;' +O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me! +Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Nay, if you have not, to it again; +We will stay your leisure. + +HOTSPUR +I have done, i' faith. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. +Deliver them up without their ransom straight, +And make the Douglas' son your only mean +For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons +Which I shall send you written, be assured, +Will easily be granted. You, my lord, + +To Northumberland + +Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, +Shall secretly into the bosom creep +Of that same noble prelate, well beloved, +The archbishop. + +HOTSPUR +Of York, is it not? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +True; who bears hard +His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. +I speak not this in estimation, +As what I think might be, but what I know +Is ruminated, plotted and set down, +And only stays but to behold the face +Of that occasion that shall bring it on. + +HOTSPUR +I smell it: upon my life, it will do well. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip. + +HOTSPUR +Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot; +And then the power of Scotland and of York, +To join with Mortimer, ha? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And so they shall. + +HOTSPUR +In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, +To save our heads by raising of a head; +For, bear ourselves as even as we can, +The king will always think him in our debt, +And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, +Till he hath found a time to pay us home: +And see already how he doth begin +To make us strangers to his looks of love. + +HOTSPUR +He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Cousin, farewell: no further go in this +Than I by letters shall direct your course. +When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, +I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; +Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, +As I will fashion it, shall happily meet, +To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, +Which now we hold at much uncertainty. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust. + +HOTSPUR +Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short +Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard. + +Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand +First Carrier +Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be +hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and +yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! + +Ostler +[Within] Anon, anon. + +First Carrier +I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks +in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out +of all cess. + +Enter another Carrier + +Second Carrier +Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that +is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this +house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. + +First Carrier +Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats +rose; it was the death of him. + +Second Carrier +I think this be the most villanous house in all +London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. + +First Carrier +Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king +christen could be better bit than I have been since +the first cock. + +Second Carrier +Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we +leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds +fleas like a loach. + +First Carrier +What, ostler! come away and be hanged! + +Second Carrier +I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, +to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. + +First Carrier +God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite +starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou +never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An +'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate +on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! +hast thou no faith in thee? + +Enter GADSHILL + +GADSHILL +Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? + +First Carrier +I think it be two o'clock. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding +in the stable. + +First Carrier +Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee, lend me thine. + +Second Carrier +Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth +he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? + +Second Carrier +Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant +thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the +gentleman: they will along with company, for they +have great charge. + +Exeunt carriers + +GADSHILL +What, ho! chamberlain! + +Chamberlain +[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse. + +GADSHILL +That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the +chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking +of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; +thou layest the plot how. + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that +I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the +wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with +him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his +company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one +that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. +They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; +they will away presently. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' +clerks, I'll give thee this neck. + +Chamberlain +No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the +hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas +as truly as a man of falsehood may. + +GADSHILL +What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, +I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old +Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no +starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou +dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are +content to do the profession some grace; that would, +if matters should be looked into, for their own +credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no +foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, +none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; +but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and +great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will +strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than +drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, +I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the +commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey +on her, for they ride up and down on her and make +her their boots. + +Chamberlain +What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold +out water in foul way? + +GADSHILL +She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We +steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt +of fern-seed, we walk invisible. + +Chamberlain +Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to +the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible. + +GADSHILL +Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our +purchase, as I am a true man. + +Chamberlain +Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. + +GADSHILL +Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the +ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, +you muddy knave. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +POINS +Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's +horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. + +PRINCE HENRY +Stand close. + +Enter FALSTAFF + +FALSTAFF +Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost +thou keep! + +FALSTAFF +Where's Poins, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him. + +FALSTAFF +I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the +rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know +not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier +further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt +not but to die a fair death for all this, if I +'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have +forsworn his company hourly any time this two and +twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the +rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me +medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it +could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! +Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! +I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere +not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to +leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that +ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven +ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; +and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: +a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! + +They whistle + +Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you +rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close +to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread +of travellers. + +FALSTAFF +Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? +'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot +again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. +What a plague mean ye to colt me thus? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. + +FALSTAFF +I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, +good king's son. + +PRINCE HENRY +Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler? + +FALSTAFF +Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent +garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I +have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy +tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest +is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it. + +Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO + +GADSHILL +Stand. + +FALSTAFF +So I do, against my will. + +POINS +O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, +what news? + +BARDOLPH +Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's +money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going +to the king's exchequer. + +FALSTAFF +You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern. + +GADSHILL +There's enough to make us all. + +FALSTAFF +To be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; +Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape +from your encounter, then they light on us. + +PETO +How many be there of them? + +GADSHILL +Some eight or ten. + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, will they not rob us? + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; +but yet no coward, Hal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, we leave that to the proof. + +POINS +Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: +when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. +Farewell, and stand fast. + +FALSTAFF +Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, where are our disguises? + +POINS +Here, hard by: stand close. + +Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +FALSTAFF +Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: +every man to his business. + +Enter the Travellers + +First Traveller +Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down +the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs. + +Thieves +Stand! + +Travellers +Jesus bless us! + +FALSTAFF +Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats: +ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they +hate us youth: down with them: fleece them. + +Travellers +O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! + +FALSTAFF +Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye +fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, +bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. +You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith. + +Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt + +Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +PRINCE HENRY +The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou +and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it +would be argument for a week, laughter for a month +and a good jest for ever. + +POINS +Stand close; I hear them coming. + +Enter the Thieves again + +FALSTAFF +Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse +before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two +arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's +no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck. + +PRINCE HENRY +Your money! + +POINS +Villains! + +As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them + +PRINCE HENRY +Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: +The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear +So strongly that they dare not meet each other; +Each takes his fellow for an officer. +Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, +And lards the lean earth as he walks along: +Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him. + +POINS +How the rogue roar'd! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth castle + +Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter +HOTSPUR +'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well +contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear +your house.' He could be contented: why is he not, +then? In respect of the love he bears our house: +he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than +he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's +certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to +drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this +nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you +have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and +your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so +great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say +unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and +you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, +our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our +friends true and constant: a good plot, good +friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, +very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is +this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the +general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by +this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. +Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord +Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? +is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all +their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the +next month? and are they not some of them set +forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an +infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity +of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay +open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself +and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of +skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! +let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set +forward to-night. + +Enter LADY PERCY + +How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. + +LADY PERCY +O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? +For what offence have I this fortnight been +A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? +Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee +Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? +Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, +And start so often when thou sit'st alone? +Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; +And given my treasures and my rights of thee +To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? +In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, +And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; +Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; +Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd +Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, +Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, +Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, +Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain, +And all the currents of a heady fight. +Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war +And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, +That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow +Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; +And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, +Such as we see when men restrain their breath +On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? +Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, +And I must know it, else he loves me not. + +HOTSPUR +What, ho! + +Enter Servant + +Is Gilliams with the packet gone? + +Servant +He is, my lord, an hour ago. + +HOTSPUR +Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? + +Servant +One horse, my lord, he brought even now. + +HOTSPUR +What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? + +Servant +It is, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +That roan shall by my throne. +Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! +Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. + +Exit Servant + +LADY PERCY +But hear you, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +What say'st thou, my lady? + +LADY PERCY +What is it carries you away? + +HOTSPUR +Why, my horse, my love, my horse. + +LADY PERCY +Out, you mad-headed ape! +A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen +As you are toss'd with. In faith, +I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. +I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir +About his title, and hath sent for you +To line his enterprise: but if you go,-- + +HOTSPUR +So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. + +LADY PERCY +Come, come, you paraquito, answer me +Directly unto this question that I ask: +In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, +An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. + +HOTSPUR +Away, +Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, +I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world +To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: +We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns, +And pass them current too. God's me, my horse! +What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou +have with me? + +LADY PERCY +Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? +Well, do not then; for since you love me not, +I will not love myself. Do you not love me? +Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. + +HOTSPUR +Come, wilt thou see me ride? +And when I am on horseback, I will swear +I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; +I must not have you henceforth question me +Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: +Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, +This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. +I know you wise, but yet no farther wise +Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are, +But yet a woman: and for secrecy, +No lady closer; for I well believe +Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; +And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. + +LADY PERCY +How! so far? + +HOTSPUR +Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: +Whither I go, thither shall you go too; +To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. +Will this content you, Kate? + +LADY PERCY +It must of force. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me +thy hand to laugh a little. + +POINS +Where hast been, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four +score hogsheads. I have sounded the very +base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother +to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by +their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. +They take it already upon their salvation, that +though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king +of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, +like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a +good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I +am king of England, I shall command all the good +lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing +scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they +cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I +am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, +that I can drink with any tinker in his own language +during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost +much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet +action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of +Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped +even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that +never spake other English in his life than 'Eight +shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with +this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint +of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to +drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, +do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my +puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do +thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale +to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and +I'll show thee a precedent. + +POINS +Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art perfect. + +POINS +Francis! + +Exit POINS + +Enter FRANCIS + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph. + +PRINCE HENRY +Come hither, Francis. + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +How long hast thou to serve, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking +of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant +as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it +a fair pair of heels and run from it? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in +England, I could find in my heart. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +How old art thou, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou +gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, I would it had been two! + +PRINCE HENRY +I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me +when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon. + +PRINCE HENRY +Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; +or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when +thou wilt. But, Francis! + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button, +not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, +smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,-- + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, who do you mean? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; +for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet +will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. + +FRANCIS +What, sir? + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call? + +Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go + +Enter Vintner + +Vintner +What, standest thou still, and hearest such a +calling? Look to the guests within. + +Exit Francis + +My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are +at the door: shall I let them in? + +PRINCE HENRY +Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. + +Exit Vintner + +Poins! + +Re-enter POINS + +POINS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at +the door: shall we be merry? + +POINS +As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what +cunning match have you made with this jest of the +drawer? come, what's the issue? + +PRINCE HENRY +I am now of all humours that have showed themselves +humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the +pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. + +Re-enter FRANCIS + +What's o'clock, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +Exit + +PRINCE HENRY +That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a +parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is +upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of +a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the +Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or +seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his +hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet +life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she, +'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan +horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some +fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I +prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and +that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his +wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. + +Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO; FRANCIS following with wine + +POINS +Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been? + +FALSTAFF +A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! +marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I +lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend +them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! +Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? + +He drinks + +PRINCE HENRY +Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? +pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale +of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is +nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: +yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime +in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; +die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be +not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a +shotten herring. There live not three good men +unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and +grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say. +I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any +thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still. + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, wool-sack! what mutter you? + +FALSTAFF +A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy +kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy +subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese, +I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales! + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there? + +POINS +'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the +Lord, I'll stab thee. + +FALSTAFF +I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call +thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I +could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight +enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your +back: call you that backing of your friends? A +plague upon such backing! give me them that will +face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I +drunk to-day. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou +drunkest last. + +FALSTAFF +All's one for that. + +He drinks + +A plague of all cowards, still say I. + +PRINCE HENRY +What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +What's the matter! there be four of us here have +ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where is it, Jack? where is it? + +FALSTAFF +Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon +poor four of us. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a hundred, man? + +FALSTAFF +I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a +dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by +miracle. I am eight times thrust through the +doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut +through and through; my sword hacked like a +hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since +I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all +cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or +less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness. + +PRINCE HENRY +Speak, sirs; how was it? + +GADSHILL +We four set upon some dozen-- + +FALSTAFF +Sixteen at least, my lord. + +GADSHILL +And bound them. + +PETO +No, no, they were not bound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I +am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. + +GADSHILL +As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us-- + +FALSTAFF +And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, fought you with them all? + +FALSTAFF +All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought +not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if +there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old +Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. + +PRINCE HENRY +Pray God you have not murdered some of them. + +FALSTAFF +Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two +of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues +in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell +thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou +knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my +point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, four? thou saidst but two even now. + +FALSTAFF +Four, Hal; I told thee four. + +POINS +Ay, ay, he said four. + +FALSTAFF +These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at +me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven +points in my target, thus. + +PRINCE HENRY +Seven? why, there were but four even now. + +FALSTAFF +In buckram? + +POINS +Ay, four, in buckram suits. + +FALSTAFF +Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear me, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine +in buckram that I told thee of-- + +PRINCE HENRY +So, two more already. + +FALSTAFF +Their points being broken,-- + +POINS +Down fell their hose. + +FALSTAFF +Began to give me ground: but I followed me close, +came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of +the eleven I paid. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! + +FALSTAFF +But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten +knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive +at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst +not see thy hand. + +PRINCE HENRY +These lies are like their father that begets them; +gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou +clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou +whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,-- + +FALSTAFF +What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth +the truth? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal +green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy +hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this? + +POINS +Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. + +FALSTAFF +What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the +strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would +not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on +compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as +blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon +compulsion, I. + +PRINCE HENRY +I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine +coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, +this huge hill of flesh,-- + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried +neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O +for breath to utter what is like thee! you +tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile +standing-tuck,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and +when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, +hear me speak but this. + +POINS +Mark, Jack. + +PRINCE HENRY +We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and +were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain +tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you +four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your +prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in +the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts +away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared +for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard +bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword +as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! +What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst +thou now find out to hide thee from this open and +apparent shame? + +POINS +Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now? + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. +Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the +heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? +why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but +beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true +prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a +coward on instinct. I shall think the better of +myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant +lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, +lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap +to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. +Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles +of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be +merry? shall we have a play extempore? + +PRINCE HENRY +Content; and the argument shall be thy running away. + +FALSTAFF +Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! + +Enter Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord the prince! + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to +me? + +Hostess +Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at +door would speak with you: he says he comes from +your father. + +PRINCE HENRY +Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and +send him back again to my mother. + +FALSTAFF +What manner of man is he? + +Hostess +An old man. + +FALSTAFF +What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall +I give him his answer? + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, do, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +'Faith, and I'll send him packing. + +Exit FALSTAFF + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you, +Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you +ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true +prince; no, fie! + +BARDOLPH +'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. + +PRINCE HENRY +'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's +sword so hacked? + +PETO +Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would +swear truth out of England but he would make you +believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like. + +BARDOLPH +Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to +make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments +with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I +did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed +to hear his monstrous devices. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years +ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since +thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and +sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what +instinct hadst thou for it? + +BARDOLPH +My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold +these exhalations? + +PRINCE HENRY +I do. + +BARDOLPH +What think you they portend? + +PRINCE HENRY +Hot livers and cold purses. + +BARDOLPH +Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. + +PRINCE HENRY +No, if rightly taken, halter. + +Re-enter FALSTAFF + +Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. +How now, my sweet creature of bombast! +How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? + +FALSTAFF +My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was +not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have +crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of +sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a +bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was +Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the +court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the +north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the +bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the +devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh +hook--what a plague call you him? + +POINS +O, Glendower. + +FALSTAFF +Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer, +and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of +Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill +perpendicular,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +He that rides at high speed and with his pistol +kills a sparrow flying. + +FALSTAFF +You have hit it. + +PRINCE HENRY +So did he never the sparrow. + +FALSTAFF +Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so +for running! + +FALSTAFF +O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, +and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: +Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's +beard is turned white with the news: you may buy +land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and +this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads +as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. + +FALSTAFF +By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we +shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, +art not thou horrible afeard? thou being +heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three +such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that +spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou +not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at +it? + +PRINCE HENRY +Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct. + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou +comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the +particulars of my life. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state, +this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden +sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich +crown for a pitiful bald crown! + +FALSTAFF +Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, +now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to +make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have +wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it +in King Cambyses' vein. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here is my leg. + +FALSTAFF +And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. + +Hostess +O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! + +FALSTAFF +Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. + +Hostess +O, the father, how he holds his countenance! + +FALSTAFF +For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen; +For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. + +Hostess +O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry +players as ever I see! + +FALSTAFF +Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. +Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy +time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though +the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster +it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the +sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have +partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, +but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a +foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant +me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; +why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall +the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat +blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall +the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a +question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, +which thou hast often heard of and it is known to +many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, +as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth +the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not +speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in +pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in +woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I +have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. + +PRINCE HENRY +What manner of man, an it like your majesty? + +FALSTAFF +A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a +cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble +carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, +by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I +remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man +should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, +I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be +known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, +peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that +Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell +me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast +thou been this month? + +PRINCE HENRY +Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, +and I'll play my father. + +FALSTAFF +Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so +majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by +the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here I am set. + +FALSTAFF +And here I stand: judge, my masters. + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, Harry, whence come you? + +FALSTAFF +My noble lord, from Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle +ye for a young prince, i' faith. + +PRINCE HENRY +Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look +on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: +there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an +old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why +dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that +bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel +of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed +cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with +the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that +grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in +years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and +drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a +capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? +wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, +but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? + +FALSTAFF +I would your grace would take me with you: whom +means your grace? + +PRINCE HENRY +That villanous abominable misleader of youth, +Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, the man I know. + +PRINCE HENRY +I know thou dost. + +FALSTAFF +But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, +were to say more than I know. That he is old, the +more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but +that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster, +that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, +God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a +sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if +to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine +are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, +banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack +Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, +valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, +being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him +thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's +company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do, I will. + +A knocking heard + +Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH + +Re-enter BARDOLPH, running + +BARDOLPH +O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most +monstrous watch is at the door. + +FALSTAFF +Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to +say in the behalf of that Falstaff. + +Re-enter the Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord, my lord! + +PRINCE HENRY +Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: +what's the matter? + +Hostess +The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they +are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of +gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, +without seeming so. + +PRINCE HENRY +And thou a natural coward, without instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, +so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart +as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! +I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. + +PRINCE HENRY +Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up +above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good +conscience. + +FALSTAFF +Both which I have had: but their date is out, and +therefore I'll hide me. + +PRINCE HENRY +Call in the sheriff. + +Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO + +Enter Sheriff and the Carrier + +Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me? + +Sheriff +First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry +Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. + +PRINCE HENRY +What men? + +Sheriff +One of them is well known, my gracious lord, +A gross fat man. + +Carrier +As fat as butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +The man, I do assure you, is not here; +For I myself at this time have employ'd him. +And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee +That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time, +Send him to answer thee, or any man, +For any thing he shall be charged withal: +And so let me entreat you leave the house. + +Sheriff +I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen +Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. + +PRINCE HENRY +It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, +He shall be answerable; and so farewell. + +Sheriff +Good night, my noble lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +I think it is good morrow, is it not? + +Sheriff +Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. + +Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier + +PRINCE HENRY +This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, +call him forth. + +PETO +Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and +snorting like a horse. + +PRINCE HENRY +Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets. + +He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers + +What hast thou found? + +PETO +Nothing but papers, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Let's see what they be: read them. + +PETO +[Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d. +Item, Sauce,. . . 4d. +Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. +Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. +Item, Bread, ob. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to +this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, +keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there +let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the +morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place +shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a +charge of foot; and I know his death will be a +march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid +back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in +the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto. + +Exeunt + +PETO +Good morrow, good my lord. + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. + +Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER +MORTIMER +These promises are fair, the parties sure, +And our induction full of prosperous hope. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, +Will you sit down? +And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it! +I have forgot the map. + +GLENDOWER +No, here it is. +Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur, +For by that name as oft as Lancaster +Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with +A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven. + +HOTSPUR +And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. + +GLENDOWER +I cannot blame him: at my nativity +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +Of burning cressets; and at my birth +The frame and huge foundation of the earth +Shaked like a coward. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so it would have done at the same season, if +your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself +had never been born. + +GLENDOWER +I say the earth did shake when I was born. + +HOTSPUR +And I say the earth was not of my mind, +If you suppose as fearing you it shook. + +GLENDOWER +The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. + +HOTSPUR +O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, +And not in fear of your nativity. +Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth +In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth +Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd +By the imprisoning of unruly wind +Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, +Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down +Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth +Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, +In passion shook. + +GLENDOWER +Cousin, of many men +I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave +To tell you once again that at my birth +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds +Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. +These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; +And all the courses of my life do show +I am not in the roll of common men. +Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea +That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, +Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? +And bring him out that is but woman's son +Can trace me in the tedious ways of art +And hold me pace in deep experiments. + +HOTSPUR +I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. +I'll to dinner. + +MORTIMER +Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. + +GLENDOWER +I can call spirits from the vasty deep. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so can I, or so can any man; +But will they come when you do call for them? + +GLENDOWER +Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command +The devil. + +HOTSPUR +And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil +By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil. +If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, +And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. +O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil! + +MORTIMER +Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. + +GLENDOWER +Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head +Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye +And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him +Bootless home and weather-beaten back. + +HOTSPUR +Home without boots, and in foul weather too! +How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? + +GLENDOWER +Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right +According to our threefold order ta'en? + +MORTIMER +The archdeacon hath divided it +Into three limits very equally: +England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, +By south and east is to my part assign'd: +All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, +And all the fertile land within that bound, +To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you +The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. +And our indentures tripartite are drawn; +Which being sealed interchangeably, +A business that this night may execute, +To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I +And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth +To meet your father and the Scottish power, +As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. +My father Glendower is not ready yet, +Not shall we need his help these fourteen days. +Within that space you may have drawn together +Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen. + +GLENDOWER +A shorter time shall send me to you, lords: +And in my conduct shall your ladies come; +From whom you now must steal and take no leave, +For there will be a world of water shed +Upon the parting of your wives and you. + +HOTSPUR +Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, +In quantity equals not one of yours: +See how this river comes me cranking in, +And cuts me from the best of all my land +A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. +I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; +And here the smug and silver Trent shall run +In a new channel, fair and evenly; +It shall not wind with such a deep indent, +To rob me of so rich a bottom here. + +GLENDOWER +Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth. + +MORTIMER +Yea, but +Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up +With like advantage on the other side; +Gelding the opposed continent as much +As on the other side it takes from you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Yea, but a little charge will trench him here +And on this north side win this cape of land; +And then he runs straight and even. + +HOTSPUR +I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. + +GLENDOWER +I'll not have it alter'd. + +HOTSPUR +Will not you? + +GLENDOWER +No, nor you shall not. + +HOTSPUR +Who shall say me nay? + +GLENDOWER +Why, that will I. + +HOTSPUR +Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +I can speak English, lord, as well as you; +For I was train'd up in the English court; +Where, being but young, I framed to the harp +Many an English ditty lovely well +And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, +A virtue that was never seen in you. + +HOTSPUR +Marry, +And I am glad of it with all my heart: +I had rather be a kitten and cry mew +Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers; +I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, +Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree; +And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, +Nothing so much as mincing poetry: +'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. + +GLENDOWER +Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. + +HOTSPUR +I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land +To any well-deserving friend; +But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, +I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. +Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? + +GLENDOWER +The moon shines fair; you may away by night: +I'll haste the writer and withal +Break with your wives of your departure hence: +I am afraid my daughter will run mad, +So much she doteth on her Mortimer. + +Exit GLENDOWER + +MORTIMER +Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! + +HOTSPUR +I cannot choose: sometime he angers me +With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant, +Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, +And of a dragon and a finless fish, +A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, +A couching lion and a ramping cat, +And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff +As puts me from my faith. I tell you what; +He held me last night at least nine hours +In reckoning up the several devils' names +That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,' +But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious +As a tired horse, a railing wife; +Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live +With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, +Than feed on cates and have him talk to me +In any summer-house in Christendom. + +MORTIMER +In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, +Exceedingly well read, and profited +In strange concealments, valiant as a lion +And as wondrous affable and as bountiful +As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? +He holds your temper in a high respect +And curbs himself even of his natural scope +When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does: +I warrant you, that man is not alive +Might so have tempted him as you have done, +Without the taste of danger and reproof: +But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; +And since your coming hither have done enough +To put him quite beside his patience. +You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: +Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,-- +And that's the dearest grace it renders you,-- +Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, +Defect of manners, want of government, +Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain: +The least of which haunting a nobleman +Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain +Upon the beauty of all parts besides, +Beguiling them of commendation. + +HOTSPUR +Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed! +Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. + +Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies + +MORTIMER +This is the deadly spite that angers me; +My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; +She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. + +MORTIMER +Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy +Shall follow in your conduct speedily. + +Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same + +GLENDOWER +She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry, +one that no persuasion can do good upon. + +The lady speaks in Welsh + +MORTIMER +I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh +Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens +I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, +In such a parley should I answer thee. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +I understand thy kisses and thou mine, +And that's a feeling disputation: +But I will never be a truant, love, +Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue +Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, +Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, +With ravishing division, to her lute. + +GLENDOWER +Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +MORTIMER +O, I am ignorance itself in this! + +GLENDOWER +She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down +And rest your gentle head upon her lap, +And she will sing the song that pleaseth you +And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep. +Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, +Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep +As is the difference betwixt day and night +The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team +Begins his golden progress in the east. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: +By that time will our book, I think, be drawn + +GLENDOWER +Do so; +And those musicians that shall play to you +Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence, +And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, +quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. + +LADY PERCY +Go, ye giddy goose. + +The music plays + +HOTSPUR +Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; +And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. +By'r lady, he is a good musician. + +LADY PERCY +Then should you be nothing but musical for you are +altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, +and hear the lady sing in Welsh. + +HOTSPUR +I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. + +LADY PERCY +Wouldst thou have thy head broken? + +HOTSPUR +No. + +LADY PERCY +Then be still. + +HOTSPUR +Neither;'tis a woman's fault. + +LADY PERCY +Now God help thee! + +HOTSPUR +To the Welsh lady's bed. + +LADY PERCY +What's that? + +HOTSPUR +Peace! she sings. + +Here the lady sings a Welsh song + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. + +LADY PERCY +Not mine, in good sooth. + +HOTSPUR +Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a +comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and +'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and +'as sure as day,' +And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, +As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. +Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, +A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,' +And such protest of pepper-gingerbread, +To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. +Come, sing. + +LADY PERCY +I will not sing. + +HOTSPUR +'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast +teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away +within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. + +Exit + +GLENDOWER +Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow +As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. +By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal, +And then to horse immediately. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others +KING HENRY IV +Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I +Must have some private conference; but be near at hand, +For we shall presently have need of you. + +Exeunt Lords + +I know not whether God will have it so, +For some displeasing service I have done, +That, in his secret doom, out of my blood +He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; +But thou dost in thy passages of life +Make me believe that thou art only mark'd +For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven +To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, +Could such inordinate and low desires, +Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, +Such barren pleasures, rude society, +As thou art match'd withal and grafted to, +Accompany the greatness of thy blood +And hold their level with thy princely heart? + +PRINCE HENRY +So please your majesty, I would I could +Quit all offences with as clear excuse +As well as I am doubtless I can purge +Myself of many I am charged withal: +Yet such extenuation let me beg, +As, in reproof of many tales devised, +which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, +By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers, +I may, for some things true, wherein my youth +Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, +Find pardon on my true submission. + +KING HENRY IV +God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, +At thy affections, which do hold a wing +Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. +Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost. +Which by thy younger brother is supplied, +And art almost an alien to the hearts +Of all the court and princes of my blood: +The hope and expectation of thy time +Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man +Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. +Had I so lavish of my presence been, +So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, +So stale and cheap to vulgar company, +Opinion, that did help me to the crown, +Had still kept loyal to possession +And left me in reputeless banishment, +A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. +By being seldom seen, I could not stir +But like a comet I was wonder'd at; +That men would tell their children 'This is he;' +Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?' +And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, +And dress'd myself in such humility +That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, +Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, +Even in the presence of the crowned king. +Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; +My presence, like a robe pontifical, +Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, +Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast +And won by rareness such solemnity. +The skipping king, he ambled up and down +With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, +Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, +Mingled his royalty with capering fools, +Had his great name profaned with their scorns +And gave his countenance, against his name, +To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push +Of every beardless vain comparative, +Grew a companion to the common streets, +Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; +That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, +They surfeited with honey and began +To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little +More than a little is by much too much. +So when he had occasion to be seen, +He was but as the cuckoo is in June, +Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes +As, sick and blunted with community, +Afford no extraordinary gaze, +Such as is bent on sun-like majesty +When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; +But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down, +Slept in his face and render'd such aspect +As cloudy men use to their adversaries, +Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full. +And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; +For thou has lost thy princely privilege +With vile participation: not an eye +But is a-weary of thy common sight, +Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; +Which now doth that I would not have it do, +Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. + +PRINCE HENRY +I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, +Be more myself. + +KING HENRY IV +For all the world +As thou art to this hour was Richard then +When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh, +And even as I was then is Percy now. +Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot, +He hath more worthy interest to the state +Than thou the shadow of succession; +For of no right, nor colour like to right, +He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, +Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, +And, being no more in debt to years than thou, +Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on +To bloody battles and to bruising arms. +What never-dying honour hath he got +Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, +Whose hot incursions and great name in arms +Holds from all soldiers chief majority +And military title capital +Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: +Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, +This infant warrior, in his enterprises +Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, +Enlarged him and made a friend of him, +To fill the mouth of deep defiance up +And shake the peace and safety of our throne. +And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, +The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, +Capitulate against us and are up. +But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? +Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, +Which art my near'st and dearest enemy? +Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, +Base inclination and the start of spleen +To fight against me under Percy's pay, +To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, +To show how much thou art degenerate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do not think so; you shall not find it so: +And God forgive them that so much have sway'd +Your majesty's good thoughts away from me! +I will redeem all this on Percy's head +And in the closing of some glorious day +Be bold to tell you that I am your son; +When I will wear a garment all of blood +And stain my favours in a bloody mask, +Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: +And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, +That this same child of honour and renown, +This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, +And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. +For every honour sitting on his helm, +Would they were multitudes, and on my head +My shames redoubled! for the time will come, +That I shall make this northern youth exchange +His glorious deeds for my indignities. +Percy is but my factor, good my lord, +To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; +And I will call him to so strict account, +That he shall render every glory up, +Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, +Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. +This, in the name of God, I promise here: +The which if He be pleased I shall perform, +I do beseech your majesty may salve +The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: +If not, the end of life cancels all bands; +And I will die a hundred thousand deaths +Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. + +KING HENRY IV +A hundred thousand rebels die in this: +Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. + +Enter BLUNT + +How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +So hath the business that I come to speak of. +Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word +That Douglas and the English rebels met +The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury +A mighty and a fearful head they are, +If promises be kept on every hand, +As ever offer'd foul play in the state. + +KING HENRY IV +The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day; +With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; +For this advertisement is five days old: +On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; +On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting +Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march +Through Gloucestershire; by which account, +Our business valued, some twelve days hence +Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. +Our hands are full of business: let's away; +Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. + +Exeunt + +Scene III +Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern. + +Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last +action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my +skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose +gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, +I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some +liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I +shall have no strength to repent. An I have not +forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I +am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a +church! Company, villanous company, hath been the +spoil of me. + +BARDOLPH +Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. + +FALSTAFF +Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make +me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman +need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not +above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once +in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I +borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in +good compass: and now I live out of all order, out +of all compass. + +BARDOLPH +Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs +be out of all compass, out of all reasonable +compass, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF +Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: +thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in +the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the +Knight of the Burning Lamp. + +BARDOLPH +Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. + +FALSTAFF +No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many +a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I +never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and +Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his +robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way +given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath +should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but +thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but +for the light in thy face, the son of utter +darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the +night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou +hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, +there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a +perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! +Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and +torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt +tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast +drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap +at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have +maintained that salamander of yours with fire any +time this two and thirty years; God reward me for +it! + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not +able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more +than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only +witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other +men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that +hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the +prince put thee into my service for any other reason +than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. +Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn +in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never +manned with an agate till now: but I will inset you +neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and +send you back again to your master, for a jewel,-- +the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is +not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in +the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his +cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is +a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis +not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still at a +face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence +out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had +writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He +may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, +I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about +the satin for my short cloak and my slops? + +Page +He said, sir, you should procure him better +assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his +band and yours; he liked not the security. + +FALSTAFF +Let him be damned, like the glutton! pray God his +tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally +yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, +and then stand upon security! The whoreson +smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and +bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is +through with them in honest taking up, then they +must stand upon security. I had as lief they would +put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with +security. I looked a' should have sent me two and +twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he +sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; +for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness +of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he +see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. +Where's Bardolph? + +Page +He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. + +FALSTAFF +I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in +Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the +stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant + +Page +Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the +Prince for striking him about Bardolph. + +FALSTAFF +Wait, close; I will not see him. +Lord Chief-Justice What's he that goes there? + +Servant +Falstaff, an't please your lordship. +Lord Chief-Justice He that was in question for the robbery? + +Servant +He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at +Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some +charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. +Lord Chief-Justice What, to York? Call him back again. + +Servant +Sir John Falstaff! + +FALSTAFF +Boy, tell him I am deaf. + +Page +You must speak louder; my master is deaf. +Lord Chief-Justice I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. +Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. + +Servant +Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not +wars? is there not employment? doth not the king +lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? +Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it +is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, +were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell +how to make it. + +Servant +You mistake me, sir. + +FALSTAFF +Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting +my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied +in my throat, if I had said so. + +Servant +I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and our +soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, +you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other +than an honest man. + +FALSTAFF +I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that +which grows to me! if thou gettest any leave of me, +hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be +hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt! + +Servant +Sir, my lord would speak with you. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. + +FALSTAFF +My good lord! God give your lordship good time of +day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard +say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship +goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not +clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in +you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I must +humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care +of your health. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to +Shrewsbury. + +FALSTAFF +An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is +returned with some discomfort from Wales. +Lord Chief-Justice I talk not of his majesty: you would not come when +I sent for you. + +FALSTAFF +And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into +this same whoreson apoplexy. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with +you. + +FALSTAFF +This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, +an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the +blood, a whoreson tingling. +Lord Chief-Justice What tell you me of it? be it as it is. + +FALSTAFF +It hath its original from much grief, from study and +perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of +his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness. +Lord Chief-Justice I think you are fallen into the disease; for you +hear not what I say to you. + +FALSTAFF +Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please +you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady +of not marking, that I am troubled withal. +Lord Chief-Justice To punish you by the heels would amend the +attention of your ears; and I care not if I do +become your physician. + +FALSTAFF +I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: +your lordship may minister the potion of +imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how +should I be your patient to follow your +prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a +scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. +Lord Chief-Justice I sent for you, when there were matters against you +for your life, to come speak with me. + +FALSTAFF +As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the +laws of this land-service, I did not come. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy. + +FALSTAFF +He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. +Lord Chief-Justice Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. + +FALSTAFF +I would it were otherwise; I would my means were +greater, and my waist slenderer. +Lord Chief-Justice You have misled the youthful prince. + +FALSTAFF +The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow +with the great belly, and he my dog. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your +day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded +over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: you may +thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting +that action. + +FALSTAFF +My lord? +Lord Chief-Justice But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a +sleeping wolf. + +FALSTAFF +To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. +Lord Chief-Justice What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt +out. + +FALSTAFF +A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow: if I did say +of wax, my growth would approve the truth. +Lord Chief-Justice There is not a white hair on your face but should +have his effect of gravity. + +FALSTAFF +His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. +Lord Chief-Justice You follow the young prince up and down, like his +ill angel. + +FALSTAFF +Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but I hope +he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: +and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go: I +cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these +costermonger times that true valour is turned +bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath +his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the +other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of +this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. +You that are old consider not the capacities of us +that are young; you do measure the heat of our +livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we +that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, +are wags too. +Lord Chief-Justice Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, +that are written down old with all the characters of +age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a +yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an +increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your +wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and +every part about you blasted with antiquity? and +will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the +afternoon, with a white head and something a round +belly. For my voice, I have lost it with halloing +and singing of anthems. To approve my youth +further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in +judgment and understanding; and he that will caper +with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the +money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that +the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, +and you took it like a sensible lord. I have +chequed him for it, and the young lion repents; +marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk +and old sack. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God send the prince a better companion! + +FALSTAFF +God send the companion a better prince! I cannot +rid my hands of him. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry: I +hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster +against the Archbishop and the Earl of +Northumberland. + +FALSTAFF +Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look +you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, +that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the +Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean +not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, +and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I +might never spit white again. There is not a +dangerous action can peep out his head but I am +thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but it +was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if +they have a good thing, to make it too common. If +ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give +me rest. I would to God my name were not so +terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be +eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to +nothing with perpetual motion. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your +expedition! + +FALSTAFF +Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to +furnish me forth? +Lord Chief-Justice Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to +bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my +cousin Westmoreland. + +Exeunt Chief-Justice and Servant + +FALSTAFF +If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man +can no more separate age and covetousness than a' +can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout +galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and +so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! + +Page +Sir? + +FALSTAFF +What money is in my purse? + +Page +Seven groats and two pence. + +FALSTAFF +I can get no remedy against this consumption of the +purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, +but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter +to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this +to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old +Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry +since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. +About it: you know where to find me. + +Exit Page + +A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for +the one or the other plays the rogue with my great +toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars +for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more +reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing: +I will turn diseases to commodity. + +Exit + +SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Thus have you heard our cause and known our means; +And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, +Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes: +And first, lord marshal, what say you to it? + +MOWBRAY +I well allow the occasion of our arms; +But gladly would be better satisfied +How in our means we should advance ourselves +To look with forehead bold and big enough +Upon the power and puissance of the king. + +HASTINGS +Our present musters grow upon the file +To five and twenty thousand men of choice; +And our supplies live largely in the hope +Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns +With an incensed fire of injuries. + +LORD BARDOLPH +The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus; +Whether our present five and twenty thousand +May hold up head without Northumberland? + +HASTINGS +With him, we may. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yea, marry, there's the point: +But if without him we be thought too feeble, +My judgment is, we should not step too far +Till we had his assistance by the hand; +For in a theme so bloody-faced as this +Conjecture, expectation, and surmise +Of aids incertain should not be admitted. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed +It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. + +LORD BARDOLPH +It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, +Eating the air on promise of supply, +Flattering himself in project of a power +Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts: +And so, with great imagination +Proper to madmen, led his powers to death +And winking leap'd into destruction. + +HASTINGS +But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt +To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yes, if this present quality of war, +Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot +Lives so in hope as in an early spring +We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit, +Hope gives not so much warrant as despair +That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, +We first survey the plot, then draw the model; +And when we see the figure of the house, +Then must we rate the cost of the erection; +Which if we find outweighs ability, +What do we then but draw anew the model +In fewer offices, or at last desist +To build at all? Much more, in this great work, +Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down +And set another up, should we survey +The plot of situation and the model, +Consent upon a sure foundation, +Question surveyors, know our own estate, +How able such a work to undergo, +To weigh against his opposite; or else +We fortify in paper and in figures, +Using the names of men instead of men: +Like one that draws the model of a house +Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, +Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost +A naked subject to the weeping clouds +And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. + +HASTINGS +Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, +Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd +The utmost man of expectation, +I think we are a body strong enough, +Even as we are, to equal with the king. + +LORD BARDOLPH +What, is the king but five and twenty thousand? + +HASTINGS +To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. +For his divisions, as the times do brawl, +Are in three heads: one power against the French, +And one against Glendower; perforce a third +Must take up us: so is the unfirm king +In three divided; and his coffers sound +With hollow poverty and emptiness. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +That he should draw his several strengths together +And come against us in full puissance, +Need not be dreaded. + +HASTINGS +If he should do so, +He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh +Baying him at the heels: never fear that. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who is it like should lead his forces hither? + +HASTINGS +The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; +Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: +But who is substituted 'gainst the French, +I have no certain notice. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Let us on, +And publish the occasion of our arms. +The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; +Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: +An habitation giddy and unsure +Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. +O thou fond many, with what loud applause +Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, +Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! +And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, +Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, +That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. +So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge +Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; +And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, +And howl'st to find it. What trust is in +these times? +They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, +Are now become enamour'd on his grave: +Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head +When through proud London he came sighing on +After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, +Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again, +And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accursed! +Past and to come seems best; things present worst. + +MOWBRAY +Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? + +HASTINGS +We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Master Fang, have you entered the action? + +FANG +It is entered. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a' +stand to 't? + +FANG +Sirrah, where's Snare? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. + +SNARE +Here, here. + +FANG +Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. + +SNARE +It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in +mine own house, and that most beastly: in good +faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his +weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will +spare neither man, woman, nor child. + +FANG +If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. + +FANG +An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an +infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, +hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not +'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving +your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to +dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to +Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my +exion is entered and my case so openly known to the +world, let him be brought in to his answer. A +hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to +bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and +have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed +off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame +to be thought on. There is no honesty in such +dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a +beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he +comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, +with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master +Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices. + +Enter FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter? + +FANG +Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. + +FALSTAFF +Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the +villain's head: throw the quean in the channel. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the +channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly +rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle +villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the +king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a +honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. + +FALSTAFF +Keep them off, Bardolph. + +FANG +A rescue! a rescue! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't +thou? Thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, +thou hemp-seed! + +FALSTAFF +Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You +fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men + +Lord Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. +Lord Chief-Justice How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here? +Doth this become your place, your time and business? +You should have been well on your way to York. +Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am +a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. +Lord Chief-Justice For what sum? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, +all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; +he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of +his: but I will have some of it out again, or I +will ride thee o' nights like the mare. + +FALSTAFF +I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have +any vantage of ground to get up. +Lord Chief-Justice How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good +temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? +Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so +rough a course to come by her own? + +FALSTAFF +What is the gross sum that I owe thee? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the +money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a +parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, +at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon +Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke +thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of +Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was +washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady +thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife +Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me +gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of +vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; +whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I +told thee they were ill for a green wound? And +didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, +desire me to be no more so familiarity with such +poor people; saying that ere long they should call +me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me +fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy +book-oath: deny it, if thou canst. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up +and down the town that the eldest son is like you: +she hath been in good case, and the truth is, +poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish +officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your +manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It +is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words +that come with such more than impudent sauciness +from you, can thrust me from a level consideration: +you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the +easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her +serve your uses both in purse and in person. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, in truth, my lord. +Lord Chief-Justice Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and +unpay the villany you have done her: the one you +may do with sterling money, and the other with +current repentance. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without +reply. You call honourable boldness impudent +sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say +nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble +duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say +to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, +being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs. +Lord Chief-Justice You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer +in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this +poor woman. + +FALSTAFF +Come hither, hostess. + +Enter GOWER + +Lord Chief-Justice Now, Master Gower, what news? + +GOWER +The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales +Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Faith, you said so before. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain +to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my +dining-chambers. + +FALSTAFF +Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy +walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of +the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, +is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these +fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou +canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's +not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, +and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in +this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I +know thou wast set on to this. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' +faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, +la! + +FALSTAFF +Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a +fool still. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I +hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? + +FALSTAFF +Will I live? + +To BARDOLPH + +Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? + +FALSTAFF +No more words; let's have her. + +Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers and Boy + +Lord Chief-Justice I have heard better news. + +FALSTAFF +What's the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Where lay the king last night? + +GOWER +At Basingstoke, my lord. + +FALSTAFF +I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Come all his forces back? + +GOWER +No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, +Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, +Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. + +FALSTAFF +Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? +Lord Chief-Justice You shall have letters of me presently: +Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. + +FALSTAFF +My lord! +Lord Chief-Justice What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? + +GOWER +I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, +good Sir John. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to +take soldiers up in counties as you go. + +FALSTAFF +Will you sup with me, Master Gower? +Lord Chief-Justice What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool +that taught them me. This is the right fencing +grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. +Lord Chief-Justice Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. Another street. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Before God, I am exceeding weary. + +POINS +Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not +have attached one of so high blood. + +PRINCE HENRY +Faith, it does me; though it discolours the +complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth +it not show vilely in me to desire small beer? + +POINS +Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as +to remember so weak a composition. + +PRINCE HENRY +Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, +by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, +small beer. But, indeed, these humble +considerations make me out of love with my +greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember +thy name! or to know thy face to-morrow! or to +take note how many pair of silk stockings thou +hast, viz. these, and those that were thy +peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy +shirts, as, one for superfluity, and another for +use! But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better +than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when +thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done +a great while, because the rest of thy low +countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: +and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins +of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the +midwives say the children are not in the fault; +whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are +mightily strengthened. + +POINS +How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, +you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good +young princes would do so, their fathers being so +sick as yours at this time is? + +PRINCE HENRY +Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? + +POINS +Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing. + +PRINCE HENRY +It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. + +POINS +Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you +will tell. + +PRINCE HENRY +Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be +sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell +thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a +better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad +indeed too. + +POINS +Very hardly upon such a subject. + +PRINCE HENRY +By this hand thou thinkest me as far in the devil's +book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and +persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell +thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so +sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art +hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. + +POINS +The reason? + +PRINCE HENRY +What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? + +POINS +I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. + +PRINCE HENRY +It would be every man's thought; and thou art a +blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never +a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way +better than thine: every man would think me an +hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most +worshipful thought to think so? + +POINS +Why, because you have been so lewd and so much +engraffed to Falstaff. + +PRINCE HENRY +And to thee. + +POINS +By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it +with my own ears: the worst that they can say of +me is that I am a second brother and that I am a +proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I +confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph. + +Enter BARDOLPH and Page + +PRINCE HENRY +And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from +me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not +transformed him ape. + +BARDOLPH +God save your grace! + +PRINCE HENRY +And yours, most noble Bardolph! + +BARDOLPH +Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you +be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a +maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a +matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead? + +Page +A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red +lattice, and I could discern no part of his face +from the window: at last I spied his eyes, and +methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's +new petticoat and so peeped through. + +PRINCE HENRY +Has not the boy profited? + +BARDOLPH +Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! + +Page +Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away! + +PRINCE HENRY +Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? + +Page +Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was delivered +of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. + +PRINCE HENRY +A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, +boy. + +POINS +O, that this good blossom could be kept from +cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. + +BARDOLPH +An you do not make him hanged among you, the +gallows shall have wrong. + +PRINCE HENRY +And how doth thy master, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH +Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to +town: there's a letter for you. + +POINS +Delivered with good respect. And how doth the +martlemas, your master? + +BARDOLPH +In bodily health, sir. + +POINS +Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but +that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies +not. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my +dog; and he holds his place; for look you how be writes. + +POINS +[Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight,'--every man must +know that, as oft as he has occasion to name +himself: even like those that are kin to the king; +for they never prick their finger but they say, +'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How +comes that?' says he, that takes upon him not to +conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's +cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.' + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it +from Japhet. But to the letter. + +POINS +[Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of +the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of +Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace! + +POINS +[Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in +brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath, +short-winded. 'I commend me to thee, I commend +thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with +Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he +swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent +at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell. +Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to +say, as thou usest him, JACK FALSTAFF with my +familiars, JOHN with my brothers and sisters, +and SIR JOHN with all Europe.' +My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it. + +PRINCE HENRY +That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do +you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? + +POINS +God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the +spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. +Is your master here in London? + +BARDOLPH +Yea, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank? + +BARDOLPH +At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +What company? + +Page +Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sup any women with him? + +Page +None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and +Mistress Doll Tearsheet. + +PRINCE HENRY +What pagan may that be? + +Page +A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's. + +PRINCE HENRY +Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town +bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? + +POINS +I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your +master that I am yet come to town: there's for +your silence. + +BARDOLPH +I have no tongue, sir. + +Page +And for mine, sir, I will govern it. + +PRINCE HENRY +Fare you well; go. + +Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page + +This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. + +POINS +I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint +Alban's and London. + +PRINCE HENRY +How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night +in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? + +POINS +Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait +upon him at his table as drawers. + +PRINCE HENRY +From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was +Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low +transformation! that shall be mine; for in every +thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. +Follow me, Ned. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY +NORTHUMBERLAND +I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, +Give even way unto my rough affairs: +Put not you on the visage of the times +And be like them to Percy troublesome. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I have given over, I will speak no more: +Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; +And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. + +LADY PERCY +O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! +The time was, father, that you broke your word, +When you were more endeared to it than now; +When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, +Threw many a northward look to see his father +Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. +Who then persuaded you to stay at home? +There were two honours lost, yours and your son's. +For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! +For his, it stuck upon him as the sun +In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light +Did all the chivalry of England move +To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass +Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves: +He had no legs that practised not his gait; +And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, +Became the accents of the valiant; +For those that could speak low and tardily +Would turn their own perfection to abuse, +To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait, +In diet, in affections of delight, +In military rules, humours of blood, +He was the mark and glass, copy and book, +That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him! +O miracle of men! him did you leave, +Second to none, unseconded by you, +To look upon the hideous god of war +In disadvantage; to abide a field +Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name +Did seem defensible: so you left him. +Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong +To hold your honour more precise and nice +With others than with him! let them alone: +The marshal and the archbishop are strong: +Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, +To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, +Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew your heart, +Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me +With new lamenting ancient oversights. +But I must go and meet with danger there, +Or it will seek me in another place +And find me worse provided. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, fly to Scotland, +Till that the nobles and the armed commons +Have of their puissance made a little taste. + +LADY PERCY +If they get ground and vantage of the king, +Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, +To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, +First let them try themselves. So did your son; +He was so suffer'd: so came I a widow; +And never shall have length of life enough +To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, +That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, +For recordation to my noble husband. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind +As with the tide swell'd up unto his height, +That makes a still-stand, running neither way: +Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, +But many thousand reasons hold me back. +I will resolve for Scotland: there am I, +Till time and vantage crave my company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap. + +Enter two Drawers +First Drawer +What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? +thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john. + +Second Drawer +Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish +of apple-johns before him, and told him there were +five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said +'I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, +old, withered knights.' It angered him to the +heart: but he hath forgot that. + +First Drawer +Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if +thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress +Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the +room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight. + +Second Drawer +Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins +anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and +aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph +hath brought word. + +First Drawer +By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an +excellent stratagem. + +Second Drawer +I'll see if I can find out Sneak. + +Exit + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an +excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as +extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your +colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good +truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much +canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, +and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's +this?' How do you now? + +DOLL TEARSHEET +Better than I was: hem! + +The Life of King Henry the Fifth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry V | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend +The brightest heaven of invention, +A kingdom for a stage, princes to act +And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! +Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, +Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, +Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire +Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, +The flat unraised spirits that have dared +On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth +So great an object: can this cockpit hold +The vasty fields of France? or may we cram +Within this wooden O the very casques +That did affright the air at Agincourt? +O, pardon! since a crooked figure may +Attest in little place a million; +And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, +On your imaginary forces work. +Suppose within the girdle of these walls +Are now confined two mighty monarchies, +Whose high upreared and abutting fronts +The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: +Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; +Into a thousand parts divide on man, +And make imaginary puissance; +Think when we talk of horses, that you see them +Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth; +For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, +Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, +Turning the accomplishment of many years +Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, +Admit me Chorus to this history; +Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, +Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY +CANTERBURY +My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged, +Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign +Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, +But that the scambling and unquiet time +Did push it out of farther question. + +ELY +But how, my lord, shall we resist it now? + +CANTERBURY +It must be thought on. If it pass against us, +We lose the better half of our possession: +For all the temporal lands which men devout +By testament have given to the church +Would they strip from us; being valued thus: +As much as would maintain, to the king's honour, +Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, +Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; +And, to relief of lazars and weak age, +Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil. +A hundred almshouses right well supplied; +And to the coffers of the king beside, +A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill. + +ELY +This would drink deep. + +CANTERBURY +'Twould drink the cup and all. + +ELY +But what prevention? + +CANTERBURY +The king is full of grace and fair regard. + +ELY +And a true lover of the holy church. + +CANTERBURY +The courses of his youth promised it not. +The breath no sooner left his father's body, +But that his wildness, mortified in him, +Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment +Consideration, like an angel, came +And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, +Leaving his body as a paradise, +To envelop and contain celestial spirits. +Never was such a sudden scholar made; +Never came reformation in a flood, +With such a heady currance, scouring faults +Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness +So soon did lose his seat and all at once +As in this king. + +ELY +We are blessed in the change. + +CANTERBURY +Hear him but reason in divinity, +And all-admiring with an inward wish +You would desire the king were made a prelate: +Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, +You would say it hath been all in all his study: +List his discourse of war, and you shall hear +A fearful battle render'd you in music: +Turn him to any cause of policy, +The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, +Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, +The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, +And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, +To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences; +So that the art and practic part of life +Must be the mistress to this theoric: +Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it, +Since his addiction was to courses vain, +His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow, +His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports, +And never noted in him any study, +Any retirement, any sequestration +From open haunts and popularity. + +ELY +The strawberry grows underneath the nettle +And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best +Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality: +And so the prince obscured his contemplation +Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, +Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, +Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. + +CANTERBURY +It must be so; for miracles are ceased; +And therefore we must needs admit the means +How things are perfected. + +ELY +But, my good lord, +How now for mitigation of this bill +Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty +Incline to it, or no? + +CANTERBURY +He seems indifferent, +Or rather swaying more upon our part +Than cherishing the exhibiters against us; +For I have made an offer to his majesty, +Upon our spiritual convocation +And in regard of causes now in hand, +Which I have open'd to his grace at large, +As touching France, to give a greater sum +Than ever at one time the clergy yet +Did to his predecessors part withal. + +ELY +How did this offer seem received, my lord? + +CANTERBURY +With good acceptance of his majesty; +Save that there was not time enough to hear, +As I perceived his grace would fain have done, +The severals and unhidden passages +Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms +And generally to the crown and seat of France +Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather. + +ELY +What was the impediment that broke this off? + +CANTERBURY +The French ambassador upon that instant +Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come +To give him hearing: is it four o'clock? + +ELY +It is. + +CANTERBURY +Then go we in, to know his embassy; +Which I could with a ready guess declare, +Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. + +ELY +I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber. + +Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants +KING HENRY V +Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury? + +EXETER +Not here in presence. + +KING HENRY V +Send for him, good uncle. + +WESTMORELAND +Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege? + +KING HENRY V +Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved, +Before we hear him, of some things of weight +That task our thoughts, concerning us and France. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY + +CANTERBURY +God and his angels guard your sacred throne +And make you long become it! + +KING HENRY V +Sure, we thank you. +My learned lord, we pray you to proceed +And justly and religiously unfold +Why the law Salique that they have in France +Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim: +And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, +That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading, +Or nicely charge your understanding soul +With opening titles miscreate, whose right +Suits not in native colours with the truth; +For God doth know how many now in health +Shall drop their blood in approbation +Of what your reverence shall incite us to. +Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, +How you awake our sleeping sword of war: +We charge you, in the name of God, take heed; +For never two such kingdoms did contend +Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops +Are every one a woe, a sore complaint +'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords +That make such waste in brief mortality. +Under this conjuration, speak, my lord; +For we will hear, note and believe in heart +That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd +As pure as sin with baptism. + +CANTERBURY +Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers, +That owe yourselves, your lives and services +To this imperial throne. There is no bar +To make against your highness' claim to France +But this, which they produce from Pharamond, +'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:' +'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:' +Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze +To be the realm of France, and Pharamond +The founder of this law and female bar. +Yet their own authors faithfully affirm +That the land Salique is in Germany, +Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe; +Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons, +There left behind and settled certain French; +Who, holding in disdain the German women +For some dishonest manners of their life, +Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female +Should be inheritrix in Salique land: +Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala, +Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen. +Then doth it well appear that Salique law +Was not devised for the realm of France: +Nor did the French possess the Salique land +Until four hundred one and twenty years +After defunction of King Pharamond, +Idly supposed the founder of this law; +Who died within the year of our redemption +Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great +Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French +Beyond the river Sala, in the year +Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, +King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, +Did, as heir general, being descended +Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, +Make claim and title to the crown of France. +Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown +Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male +Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, +To find his title with some shows of truth, +'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught, +Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare, +Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son +To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son +Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, +Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, +Could not keep quiet in his conscience, +Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied +That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, +Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, +Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine: +By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great +Was re-united to the crown of France. +So that, as clear as is the summer's sun. +King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim, +King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear +To hold in right and title of the female: +So do the kings of France unto this day; +Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law +To bar your highness claiming from the female, +And rather choose to hide them in a net +Than amply to imbar their crooked titles +Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. + +KING HENRY V +May I with right and conscience make this claim? + +CANTERBURY +The sin upon my head, dread sovereign! +For in the book of Numbers is it writ, +When the man dies, let the inheritance +Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, +Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag; +Look back into your mighty ancestors: +Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, +From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit, +And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, +Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy, +Making defeat on the full power of France, +Whiles his most mighty father on a hill +Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp +Forage in blood of French nobility. +O noble English. that could entertain +With half their forces the full Pride of France +And let another half stand laughing by, +All out of work and cold for action! + +ELY +Awake remembrance of these valiant dead +And with your puissant arm renew their feats: +You are their heir; you sit upon their throne; +The blood and courage that renowned them +Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege +Is in the very May-morn of his youth, +Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. + +EXETER +Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth +Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, +As did the former lions of your blood. + +WESTMORELAND +They know your grace hath cause and means and might; +So hath your highness; never king of England +Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects, +Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England +And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France. + +CANTERBURY +O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, +With blood and sword and fire to win your right; +In aid whereof we of the spiritualty +Will raise your highness such a mighty sum +As never did the clergy at one time +Bring in to any of your ancestors. + +KING HENRY V +We must not only arm to invade the French, +But lay down our proportions to defend +Against the Scot, who will make road upon us +With all advantages. + +CANTERBURY +They of those marches, gracious sovereign, +Shall be a wall sufficient to defend +Our inland from the pilfering borderers. + +KING HENRY V +We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, +But fear the main intendment of the Scot, +Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us; +For you shall read that my great-grandfather +Never went with his forces into France +But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom +Came pouring, like the tide into a breach, +With ample and brim fulness of his force, +Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, +Girding with grievous siege castles and towns; +That England, being empty of defence, +Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood. + +CANTERBURY +She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege; +For hear her but exampled by herself: +When all her chivalry hath been in France +And she a mourning widow of her nobles, +She hath herself not only well defended +But taken and impounded as a stray +The King of Scots; whom she did send to France, +To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings +And make her chronicle as rich with praise +As is the ooze and bottom of the sea +With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries. + +WESTMORELAND +But there's a saying very old and true, +'If that you will France win, +Then with Scotland first begin:' +For once the eagle England being in prey, +To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot +Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs, +Playing the mouse in absence of the cat, +To tear and havoc more than she can eat. + +EXETER +It follows then the cat must stay at home: +Yet that is but a crush'd necessity, +Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, +And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. +While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, +The advised head defends itself at home; +For government, though high and low and lower, +Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, +Congreeing in a full and natural close, +Like music. + +CANTERBURY +Therefore doth heaven divide +The state of man in divers functions, +Setting endeavour in continual motion; +To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, +Obedience: for so work the honey-bees, +Creatures that by a rule in nature teach +The act of order to a peopled kingdom. +They have a king and officers of sorts; +Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, +Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, +Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, +Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, +Which pillage they with merry march bring home +To the tent-royal of their emperor; +Who, busied in his majesty, surveys +The singing masons building roofs of gold, +The civil citizens kneading up the honey, +The poor mechanic porters crowding in +Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, +The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, +Delivering o'er to executors pale +The lazy yawning drone. I this infer, +That many things, having full reference +To one consent, may work contrariously: +As many arrows, loosed several ways, +Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town; +As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea; +As many lines close in the dial's centre; +So may a thousand actions, once afoot. +End in one purpose, and be all well borne +Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege. +Divide your happy England into four; +Whereof take you one quarter into France, +And you withal shall make all Gallia shake. +If we, with thrice such powers left at home, +Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, +Let us be worried and our nation lose +The name of hardiness and policy. + +KING HENRY V +Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help, +And yours, the noble sinews of our power, +France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe, +Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit, +Ruling in large and ample empery +O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, +Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, +Tombless, with no remembrance over them: +Either our history shall with full mouth +Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, +Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, +Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph. + +Enter Ambassadors of France + +Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure +Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear +Your greeting is from him, not from the king. + +First Ambassador +May't please your majesty to give us leave +Freely to render what we have in charge; +Or shall we sparingly show you far off +The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? + +KING HENRY V +We are no tyrant, but a Christian king; +Unto whose grace our passion is as subject +As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons: +Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness +Tell us the Dauphin's mind. + +First Ambassador +Thus, then, in few. +Your highness, lately sending into France, +Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right +Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. +In answer of which claim, the prince our master +Says that you savour too much of your youth, +And bids you be advised there's nought in France +That can be with a nimble galliard won; +You cannot revel into dukedoms there. +He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, +This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, +Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim +Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks. + +KING HENRY V +What treasure, uncle? + +EXETER +Tennis-balls, my liege. + +KING HENRY V +We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; +His present and your pains we thank you for: +When we have march'd our rackets to these balls, +We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set +Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. +Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler +That all the courts of France will be disturb'd +With chaces. And we understand him well, +How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, +Not measuring what use we made of them. +We never valued this poor seat of England; +And therefore, living hence, did give ourself +To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common +That men are merriest when they are from home. +But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, +Be like a king and show my sail of greatness +When I do rouse me in my throne of France: +For that I have laid by my majesty +And plodded like a man for working-days, +But I will rise there with so full a glory +That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, +Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. +And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his +Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul +Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance +That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows +Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands; +Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; +And some are yet ungotten and unborn +That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn. +But this lies all within the will of God, +To whom I do appeal; and in whose name +Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, +To venge me as I may and to put forth +My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause. +So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin +His jest will savour but of shallow wit, +When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. +Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well. + +Exeunt Ambassadors + +EXETER +This was a merry message. + +KING HENRY V +We hope to make the sender blush at it. +Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour +That may give furtherance to our expedition; +For we have now no thought in us but France, +Save those to God, that run before our business. +Therefore let our proportions for these wars +Be soon collected and all things thought upon +That may with reasonable swiftness add +More feathers to our wings; for, God before, +We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door. +Therefore let every man now task his thought, +That this fair action may on foot be brought. + +Exeunt. Flourish + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now all the youth of England are on fire, +And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies: +Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought +Reigns solely in the breast of every man: +They sell the pasture now to buy the horse, +Following the mirror of all Christian kings, +With winged heels, as English Mercuries. +For now sits Expectation in the air, +And hides a sword from hilts unto the point +With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets, +Promised to Harry and his followers. +The French, advised by good intelligence +Of this most dreadful preparation, +Shake in their fear and with pale policy +Seek to divert the English purposes. +O England! model to thy inward greatness, +Like little body with a mighty heart, +What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, +Were all thy children kind and natural! +But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out +A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills +With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men, +One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second, +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, +Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland, +Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed! +Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France; +And by their hands this grace of kings must die, +If hell and treason hold their promises, +Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. +Linger your patience on; and we'll digest +The abuse of distance; force a play: +The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; +The king is set from London; and the scene +Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton; +There is the playhouse now, there must you sit: +And thence to France shall we convey you safe, +And bring you back, charming the narrow seas +To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, +We'll not offend one stomach with our play. +But, till the king come forth, and not till then, +Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH +BARDOLPH +Well met, Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH +What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet? + +NYM +For my part, I care not: I say little; but when +time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that +shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will +wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but +what though? it will toast cheese, and it will +endure cold as another man's sword will: and +there's an end. + +BARDOLPH +I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and +we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it +be so, good Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the +certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I +will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the +rendezvous of it. + +BARDOLPH +It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell +Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you +were troth-plight to her. + +NYM +I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may +sleep, and they may have their throats about them at +that time; and some say knives have edges. It must +be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet +she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I +cannot tell. + +Enter PISTOL and Hostess + +BARDOLPH +Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good +corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol! + +PISTOL +Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand, +I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. + +Hostess +No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and +board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live +honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will +be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. + +NYM and PISTOL draw + +O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we +shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. + +BARDOLPH +Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. + +NYM +Pish! + +PISTOL +Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland! + +Hostess +Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. + +NYM +Will you shog off? I would have you solus. + +PISTOL +'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile! +The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face; +The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat, +And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy, +And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! +I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels; +For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, +And flashing fire will follow. + +NYM +I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an +humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow +foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my +rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk +off, I would prick your guts a little, in good +terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +O braggart vile and damned furious wight! +The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; +Therefore exhale. + +BARDOLPH +Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the +first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. + +Draws + +PISTOL +An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. +Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give: +Thy spirits are most tall. + +NYM +I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair +terms: that is the humour of it. + +PISTOL +'Couple a gorge!' +That is the word. I thee defy again. +O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? +No; to the spital go, +And from the powdering tub of infamy +Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, +Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse: +I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly +For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. Go to. + +Enter the Boy + +Boy +Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and +you, hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. +Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and +do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. + +BARDOLPH +Away, you rogue! + +Hostess +By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of +these days. The king has killed his heart. Good +husband, come home presently. + +Exeunt Hostess and Boy + +BARDOLPH +Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to +France together: why the devil should we keep +knives to cut one another's throats? + +PISTOL +Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! + +NYM +You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +Base is the slave that pays. + +NYM +That now I will have: that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +As manhood shall compound: push home. + +They draw + +BARDOLPH +By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll +kill him; by this sword, I will. + +PISTOL +Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. + +BARDOLPH +Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: +an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. +Prithee, put up. + +NYM +I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +A noble shalt thou have, and present pay; +And liquor likewise will I give to thee, +And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood: +I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me; +Is not this just? for I shall sutler be +Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. +Give me thy hand. + +NYM +I shall have my noble? + +PISTOL +In cash most justly paid. + +NYM +Well, then, that's the humour of't. + +Re-enter Hostess + +Hostess +As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir +John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning +quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to +behold. Sweet men, come to him. + +NYM +The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's +the even of it. + +PISTOL +Nym, thou hast spoke the right; +His heart is fracted and corroborate. + +NYM +The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; +he passes some humours and careers. + +PISTOL +Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live. + +SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber. + +Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND +BEDFORD +'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. + +EXETER +They shall be apprehended by and by. + +WESTMORELAND +How smooth and even they do bear themselves! +As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, +Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. + +BEDFORD +The king hath note of all that they intend, +By interception which they dream not of. + +EXETER +Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, +Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours, +That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell +His sovereign's life to death and treachery. + +Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants + +KING HENRY V +Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. +My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham, +And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts: +Think you not that the powers we bear with us +Will cut their passage through the force of France, +Doing the execution and the act +For which we have in head assembled them? + +SCROOP +No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. + +KING HENRY V +I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded +We carry not a heart with us from hence +That grows not in a fair consent with ours, +Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish +Success and conquest to attend on us. + +CAMBRIDGE +Never was monarch better fear'd and loved +Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject +That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness +Under the sweet shade of your government. + +GREY +True: those that were your father's enemies +Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you +With hearts create of duty and of zeal. + +KING HENRY V +We therefore have great cause of thankfulness; +And shall forget the office of our hand, +Sooner than quittance of desert and merit +According to the weight and worthiness. + +SCROOP +So service shall with steeled sinews toil, +And labour shall refresh itself with hope, +To do your grace incessant services. + +KING HENRY V +We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter, +Enlarge the man committed yesterday, +That rail'd against our person: we consider +it was excess of wine that set him on; +And on his more advice we pardon him. + +SCROOP +That's mercy, but too much security: +Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example +Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. + +KING HENRY V +O, let us yet be merciful. + +CAMBRIDGE +So may your highness, and yet punish too. + +GREY +Sir, +You show great mercy, if you give him life, +After the taste of much correction. + +KING HENRY V +Alas, your too much love and care of me +Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch! +If little faults, proceeding on distemper, +Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye +When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested, +Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, +Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care +And tender preservation of our person, +Would have him punished. And now to our French causes: +Who are the late commissioners? + +CAMBRIDGE +I one, my lord: +Your highness bade me ask for it to-day. + +SCROOP +So did you me, my liege. + +GREY +And I, my royal sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours; +There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight, +Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: +Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. +My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, +We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen! +What see you in those papers that you lose +So much complexion? Look ye, how they change! +Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there +That hath so cowarded and chased your blood +Out of appearance? + +CAMBRIDGE +I do confess my fault; +And do submit me to your highness' mercy. + +GREY SCROOP +To which we all appeal. + +KING HENRY V +The mercy that was quick in us but late, +By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: +You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy; +For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, +As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. +See you, my princes, and my noble peers, +These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here, +You know how apt our love was to accord +To furnish him with all appertinents +Belonging to his honour; and this man +Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired, +And sworn unto the practises of France, +To kill us here in Hampton: to the which +This knight, no less for bounty bound to us +Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O, +What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel, +Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature! +Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels, +That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, +That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold, +Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use, +May it be possible, that foreign hire +Could out of thee extract one spark of evil +That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange, +That, though the truth of it stands off as gross +As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. +Treason and murder ever kept together, +As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose, +Working so grossly in a natural cause, +That admiration did not whoop at them: +But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in +Wonder to wait on treason and on murder: +And whatsoever cunning fiend it was +That wrought upon thee so preposterously +Hath got the voice in hell for excellence: +All other devils that suggest by treasons +Do botch and bungle up damnation +With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd +From glistering semblances of piety; +But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up, +Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason, +Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. +If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus +Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, +He might return to vasty Tartar back, +And tell the legions 'I can never win +A soul so easy as that Englishman's.' +O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected +The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? +Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned? +Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family? +Why, so didst thou: seem they religious? +Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet, +Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, +Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, +Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, +Not working with the eye without the ear, +And but in purged judgment trusting neither? +Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: +And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, +To mark the full-fraught man and best indued +With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; +For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like +Another fall of man. Their faults are open: +Arrest them to the answer of the law; +And God acquit them of their practises! + +EXETER +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Richard Earl of Cambridge. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. + +SCROOP +Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; +And I repent my fault more than my death; +Which I beseech your highness to forgive, +Although my body pay the price of it. + +CAMBRIDGE +For me, the gold of France did not seduce; +Although I did admit it as a motive +The sooner to effect what I intended: +But God be thanked for prevention; +Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, +Beseeching God and you to pardon me. + +GREY +Never did faithful subject more rejoice +At the discovery of most dangerous treason +Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself. +Prevented from a damned enterprise: +My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. +You have conspired against our royal person, +Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers +Received the golden earnest of our death; +Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, +His princes and his peers to servitude, +His subjects to oppression and contempt +And his whole kingdom into desolation. +Touching our person seek we no revenge; +But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, +Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws +We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, +Poor miserable wretches, to your death: +The taste whereof, God of his mercy give +You patience to endure, and true repentance +Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence. + +Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, guarded + +Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof +Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. +We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, +Since God so graciously hath brought to light +This dangerous treason lurking in our way +To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now +But every rub is smoothed on our way. +Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver +Our puissance into the hand of God, +Putting it straight in expedition. +Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: +No king of England, if not king of France. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. + +Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy +Hostess +Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. + +PISTOL +No; for my manly heart doth yearn. +Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: +Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, +And we must yearn therefore. + +BARDOLPH +Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in +heaven or in hell! + +Hostess +Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's +bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made +a finer end and went away an it had been any +christom child; a' parted even just between twelve +and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after +I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with +flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew +there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as +a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now, +sir John!' quoth I 'what, man! be o' good +cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or +four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' +should not think of God; I hoped there was no need +to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So +a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my +hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as +cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and +they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and +upward, and all was as cold as any stone. + +NYM +They say he cried out of sack. + +Hostess +Ay, that a' did. + +BARDOLPH +And of women. + +Hostess +Nay, that a' did not. + +Boy +Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils +incarnate. + +Hostess +A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he +never liked. + +Boy +A' said once, the devil would have him about women. + +Hostess +A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then +he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. + +Boy +Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon +Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul +burning in hell-fire? + +BARDOLPH +Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: +that's all the riches I got in his service. + +NYM +Shall we shog? the king will be gone from +Southampton. + +PISTOL +Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. +Look to my chattels and my movables: +Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' +Trust none; +For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, +And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: +Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. +Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, +Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, +To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! + +Boy +And that's but unwholesome food they say. + +PISTOL +Touch her soft mouth, and march. + +BARDOLPH +Farewell, hostess. + +Kissing her + +NYM +I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. + +PISTOL +Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. + +Hostess +Farewell; adieu. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace. + +Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others +KING OF FRANCE +Thus comes the English with full power upon us; +And more than carefully it us concerns +To answer royally in our defences. +Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, +Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, +And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, +To line and new repair our towns of war +With men of courage and with means defendant; +For England his approaches makes as fierce +As waters to the sucking of a gulf. +It fits us then to be as provident +As fear may teach us out of late examples +Left by the fatal and neglected English +Upon our fields. + +DAUPHIN +My most redoubted father, +It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; +For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, +Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, +But that defences, musters, preparations, +Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, +As were a war in expectation. +Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth +To view the sick and feeble parts of France: +And let us do it with no show of fear; +No, with no more than if we heard that England +Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: +For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, +Her sceptre so fantastically borne +By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, +That fear attends her not. + +Constable +O peace, Prince Dauphin! +You are too much mistaken in this king: +Question your grace the late ambassadors, +With what great state he heard their embassy, +How well supplied with noble counsellors, +How modest in exception, and withal +How terrible in constant resolution, +And you shall find his vanities forespent +Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, +Covering discretion with a coat of folly; +As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots +That shall first spring and be most delicate. + +DAUPHIN +Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; +But though we think it so, it is no matter: +In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh +The enemy more mighty than he seems: +So the proportions of defence are fill'd; +Which of a weak or niggardly projection +Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting +A little cloth. + +KING OF FRANCE +Think we King Harry strong; +And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. +The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; +And he is bred out of that bloody strain +That haunted us in our familiar paths: +Witness our too much memorable shame +When Cressy battle fatally was struck, +And all our princes captiv'd by the hand +Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; +Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, +Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, +Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, +Mangle the work of nature and deface +The patterns that by God and by French fathers +Had twenty years been made. This is a stem +Of that victorious stock; and let us fear +The native mightiness and fate of him. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Ambassadors from Harry King of England +Do crave admittance to your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. + +Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords + +You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. + +DAUPHIN +Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs +Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten +Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, +Take up the English short, and let them know +Of what a monarchy you are the head: +Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin +As self-neglecting. + +Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train + +KING OF FRANCE +From our brother England? + +EXETER +From him; and thus he greets your majesty. +He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, +That you divest yourself, and lay apart +The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, +By law of nature and of nations, 'long +To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown +And all wide-stretched honours that pertain +By custom and the ordinance of times +Unto the crown of France. That you may know +'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, +Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, +Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, +He sends you this most memorable line, +In every branch truly demonstrative; +Willing to overlook this pedigree: +And when you find him evenly derived +From his most famed of famous ancestors, +Edward the Third, he bids you then resign +Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held +From him the native and true challenger. + +KING OF FRANCE +Or else what follows? + +EXETER +Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown +Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: +Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, +In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, +That, if requiring fail, he will compel; +And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, +Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy +On the poor souls for whom this hungry war +Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head +Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries +The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans, +For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, +That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. +This is his claim, his threatening and my message; +Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, +To whom expressly I bring greeting too. + +KING OF FRANCE +For us, we will consider of this further: +To-morrow shall you bear our full intent +Back to our brother England. + +DAUPHIN +For the Dauphin, +I stand here for him: what to him from England? + +EXETER +Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, +And any thing that may not misbecome +The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. +Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness +Do not, in grant of all demands at large, +Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, +He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, +That caves and womby vaultages of France +Shall chide your trespass and return your mock +In second accent of his ordnance. + +DAUPHIN +Say, if my father render fair return, +It is against my will; for I desire +Nothing but odds with England: to that end, +As matching to his youth and vanity, +I did present him with the Paris balls. + +EXETER +He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, +Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: +And, be assured, you'll find a difference, +As we his subjects have in wonder found, +Between the promise of his greener days +And these he masters now: now he weighs time +Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read +In your own losses, if he stay in France. + +KING OF FRANCE +To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. + +EXETER +Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king +Come here himself to question our delay; +For he is footed in this land already. + +KING OF FRANCE +You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions: +A night is but small breath and little pause +To answer matters of this consequence. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT III +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies +In motion of no less celerity +Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen +The well-appointed king at Hampton pier +Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet +With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: +Play with your fancies, and in them behold +Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; +Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give +To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails, +Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, +Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, +Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think +You stand upon the ravage and behold +A city on the inconstant billows dancing; +For so appears this fleet majestical, +Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow: +Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, +And leave your England, as dead midnight still, +Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women, +Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance; +For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd +With one appearing hair, that will not follow +These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? +Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; +Behold the ordnance on their carriages, +With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. +Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back; +Tells Harry that the king doth offer him +Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry, +Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. +The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner +With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, + +Alarum, and chambers go off + +And down goes all before them. Still be kind, +And eke out our performance with your mind. + +Exit + +SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders +KING HENRY V +Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; +Or close the wall up with our English dead. +In peace there's nothing so becomes a man +As modest stillness and humility: +But when the blast of war blows in our ears, +Then imitate the action of the tiger; +Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, +Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; +Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; +Let pry through the portage of the head +Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it +As fearfully as doth a galled rock +O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, +Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. +Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, +Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit +To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. +Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! +Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, +Have in these parts from morn till even fought +And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: +Dishonour not your mothers; now attest +That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. +Be copy now to men of grosser blood, +And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, +Whose limbs were made in England, show us here +The mettle of your pasture; let us swear +That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; +For there is none of you so mean and base, +That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. +I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, +Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: +Follow your spirit, and upon this charge +Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' + +Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy +BARDOLPH +On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach! + +NYM +Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot; +and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: +the humour of it is too hot, that is the very +plain-song of it. + +PISTOL +The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound: +Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die; +And sword and shield, +In bloody field, +Doth win immortal fame. + +Boy +Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give +all my fame for a pot of ale and safety. + +PISTOL +And I: +If wishes would prevail with me, +My purpose should not fail with me, +But thither would I hie. + +Boy +As duly, but not as truly, +As bird doth sing on bough. + +Enter FLUELLEN + +FLUELLEN +Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions! + +Driving them forward + +PISTOL +Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould. +Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage, +Abate thy rage, great duke! +Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck! + +NYM +These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours. + +Exeunt all but Boy + +Boy +As young as I am, I have observed these three +swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they +three, though they would serve me, could not be man +to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to +a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and +red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but +fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue +and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks +words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath +heard that men of few words are the best men; and +therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a' +should be thought a coward: but his few bad words +are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never +broke any man's head but his own, and that was +against a post when he was drunk. They will steal +any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a +lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for +three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn +brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a +fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the +men would carry coals. They would have me as +familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their +handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, +if I should take from another's pocket to put into +mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I +must leave them, and seek some better service: +their villany goes against my weak stomach, and +therefore I must cast it up. + +Exit + +Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following + +GOWER +Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the +mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you. + +FLUELLEN +To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good +to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is +not according to the disciplines of the war: the +concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, +the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look +you, is digt himself four yard under the +countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up +all, if there is not better directions. + +GOWER +The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the +siege is given, is altogether directed by an +Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith. + +FLUELLEN +It is Captain Macmorris, is it not? + +GOWER +I think it be. + +FLUELLEN +By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will +verify as much in his beard: be has no more +directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look +you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog. + +Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY + +GOWER +Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman, +that is certain; and of great expedition and +knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular +knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will +maintain his argument as well as any military man in +the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars +of the Romans. + +JAMY +I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN +God-den to your worship, good Captain James. + +GOWER +How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the +mines? have the pioneers given o'er? + +MACMORRIS +By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give +over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I +swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; +it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so +Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done, +tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done! + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you +voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, +as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of +the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, +look you, and friendly communication; partly to +satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, +look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of +the military discipline; that is the point. + +JAMY +It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: +and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick +occasion; that sall I, marry. + +MACMORRIS +It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the +day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the +king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The +town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the +breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing: +'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to +stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is +throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there +ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la! + +JAMY +By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves +to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i' +the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay +'t as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do, +that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full +fain hear some question 'tween you tway. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your +correction, there is not many of your nation-- + +MACMORRIS +Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, +and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish +my nation? Who talks of my nation? + +FLUELLEN +Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is +meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think +you do not use me with that affability as in +discretion you ought to use me, look you: being as +good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of +war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in +other particularities. + +MACMORRIS +I do not know you so good a man as myself: so +Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. + +GOWER +Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. + +JAMY +A! that's a foul fault. + +A parley sounded + +GOWER +The town sounds a parley. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, when there is more better +opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so +bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; +and there is an end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the gates. + +The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train +KING HENRY V +How yet resolves the governor of the town? +This is the latest parle we will admit; +Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves; +Or like to men proud of destruction +Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier, +A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, +If I begin the battery once again, +I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur +Till in her ashes she lie buried. +The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, +And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, +In liberty of bloody hand shall range +With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass +Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. +What is it then to me, if impious war, +Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends, +Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats +Enlink'd to waste and desolation? +What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, +If your pure maidens fall into the hand +Of hot and forcing violation? +What rein can hold licentious wickedness +When down the hill he holds his fierce career? +We may as bootless spend our vain command +Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil +As send precepts to the leviathan +To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, +Take pity of your town and of your people, +Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; +Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace +O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds +Of heady murder, spoil and villany. +If not, why, in a moment look to see +The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand +Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; +Your fathers taken by the silver beards, +And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls, +Your naked infants spitted upon pikes, +Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused +Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry +At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. +What say you? will you yield, and this avoid, +Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd? + +GOVERNOR +Our expectation hath this day an end: +The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated, +Returns us that his powers are yet not ready +To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king, +We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. +Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours; +For we no longer are defensible. + +KING HENRY V +Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter, +Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain, +And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French: +Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle, +The winter coming on and sickness growing +Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais. +To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest; +To-morrow for the march are we addrest. + +Flourish. The King and his train enter the town + +SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace. + +Enter KATHARINE and ALICE +KATHARINE +Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage. + +ALICE +Un peu, madame. + +KATHARINE +Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a +parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois? + +ALICE +La main? elle est appelee de hand. + +KATHARINE +De hand. Et les doigts? + +ALICE +Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me +souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont +appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres. + +KATHARINE +La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense +que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots +d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles? + +ALICE +Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails. + +KATHARINE +De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de +hand, de fingres, et de nails. + +ALICE +C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. + +KATHARINE +Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras. + +ALICE +De arm, madame. + +KATHARINE +Et le coude? + +ALICE +De elbow. + +KATHARINE +De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les +mots que vous m'avez appris des a present. + +ALICE +Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. + +KATHARINE +Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres, +de nails, de arma, de bilbow. + +ALICE +De elbow, madame. + +KATHARINE +O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment +appelez-vous le col? + +ALICE +De neck, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nick. Et le menton? + +ALICE +De chin. + +KATHARINE +De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin. + +ALICE +Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez +les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. + +KATHARINE +Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, +et en peu de temps. + +ALICE +N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne? + +KATHARINE +Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de +fingres, de mails-- + +ALICE +De nails, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nails, de arm, de ilbow. + +ALICE +Sauf votre honneur, de elbow. + +KATHARINE +Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment +appelez-vous le pied et la robe? + +ALICE +De foot, madame; et de coun. + +KATHARINE +De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots +de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et +non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais +prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France +pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le coun! +Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon +ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de +elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun. + +ALICE +Excellent, madame! + +KATHARINE +C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others +KING OF FRANCE +'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme. + +Constable +And if he be not fought withal, my lord, +Let us not live in France; let us quit all +And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. + +DAUPHIN +O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, +The emptying of our fathers' luxury, +Our scions, put in wild and savage stock, +Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, +And overlook their grafters? + +BOURBON +Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! +Mort de ma vie! if they march along +Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, +To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm +In that nook-shotten isle of Albion. + +Constable +Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle? +Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull, +On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, +Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, +A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth, +Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? +And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, +Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land, +Let us not hang like roping icicles +Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people +Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! +Poor we may call them in their native lords. + +DAUPHIN +By faith and honour, +Our madams mock at us, and plainly say +Our mettle is bred out and they will give +Their bodies to the lust of English youth +To new-store France with bastard warriors. + +BOURBON +They bid us to the English dancing-schools, +And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos; +Saying our grace is only in our heels, +And that we are most lofty runaways. + +KING OF FRANCE +Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence: +Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. +Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged +More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: +Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; +You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, +Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; +Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, +Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg, +Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; +High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights, +For your great seats now quit you of great shames. +Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land +With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur: +Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow +Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat +The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon: +Go down upon him, you have power enough, +And in a captive chariot into Rouen +Bring him our prisoner. + +Constable +This becomes the great. +Sorry am I his numbers are so few, +His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march, +For I am sure, when he shall see our army, +He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear +And for achievement offer us his ransom. + +KING OF FRANCE +Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy. +And let him say to England that we send +To know what willing ransom he will give. +Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen. + +DAUPHIN +Not so, I do beseech your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +Be patient, for you shall remain with us. +Now forth, lord constable and princes all, +And quickly bring us word of England's fall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy. + +Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting +GOWER +How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge? + +FLUELLEN +I assure you, there is very excellent services +committed at the bridge. + +GOWER +Is the Duke of Exeter safe? + +FLUELLEN +The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; +and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my +heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and +my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and +blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the +bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. +There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the +pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as +valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no +estimation in the world; but did see him do as +gallant service. + +GOWER +What do you call him? + +FLUELLEN +He is called Aunchient Pistol. + +GOWER +I know him not. + +Enter PISTOL + +FLUELLEN +Here is the man. + +PISTOL +Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: +The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well. + +FLUELLEN +Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at +his hands. + +PISTOL +Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, +And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate, +And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, +That goddess blind, +That stands upon the rolling restless stone-- + +FLUELLEN +By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is +painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to +signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is +painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which +is the moral of it, that she is turning, and +inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her +foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, +which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth, +the poet makes a most excellent description of it: +Fortune is an excellent moral. + +PISTOL +Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; +For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be: +A damned death! +Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free +And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate: +But Exeter hath given the doom of death +For pax of little price. +Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice: +And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut +With edge of penny cord and vile reproach: +Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. + +FLUELLEN +Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning. + +The First part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Westminster Abbey. + +Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, & c +BEDFORD +Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! +Comets, importing change of times and states, +Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, +And with them scourge the bad revolting stars +That have consented unto Henry's death! +King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! +England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + +GLOUCESTER +England ne'er had a king until his time. +Virtue he had, deserving to command: +His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams: +His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; +His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire, +More dazzled and drove back his enemies +Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces. +What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech: +He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + +EXETER +We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood? +Henry is dead and never shall revive: +Upon a wooden coffin we attend, +And death's dishonourable victory +We with our stately presence glorify, +Like captives bound to a triumphant car. +What! shall we curse the planets of mishap +That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? +Or shall we think the subtle-witted French +Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him +By magic verses have contrived his end? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. +Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day +So dreadful will not be as was his sight. +The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: +The church's prayers made him so prosperous. + +GLOUCESTER +The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, +His thread of life had not so soon decay'd: +None do you like but an effeminate prince, +Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector +And lookest to command the prince and realm. +Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, +More than God or religious churchmen may. + +GLOUCESTER +Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh, +And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st +Except it be to pray against thy foes. + +BEDFORD +Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace: +Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us: +Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms: +Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead. +Posterity, await for wretched years, +When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck, +Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, +And none but women left to wail the dead. +Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: +Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, +Combat with adverse planets in the heavens! +A far more glorious star thy soul will make +Than Julius Caesar or bright-- + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My honourable lords, health to you all! +Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, +Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: +Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, +Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. + +BEDFORD +What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? +Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns +Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + +GLOUCESTER +Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? +If Henry were recall'd to life again, +These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. + +EXETER +How were they lost? what treachery was used? + +Messenger +No treachery; but want of men and money. +Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, +That here you maintain several factions, +And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought, +You are disputing of your generals: +One would have lingering wars with little cost; +Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; +A third thinks, without expense at all, +By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. +Awake, awake, English nobility! +Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot: +Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; +Of England's coat one half is cut away. + +EXETER +Were our tears wanting to this funeral, +These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. + +BEDFORD +Me they concern; Regent I am of France. +Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France. +Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! +Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, +To weep their intermissive miseries. + +Enter to them another Messenger + +Messenger +Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. +France is revolted from the English quite, +Except some petty towns of no import: +The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims; +The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; +Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; +The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. + +EXETER +The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! +O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + +GLOUCESTER +We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats. +Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. + +BEDFORD +Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? +An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, +Wherewith already France is overrun. + +Enter another Messenger + +Messenger +My gracious lords, to add to your laments, +Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, +I must inform you of a dismal fight +Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? + +Messenger +O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: +The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. +The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, +Retiring from the siege of Orleans, +Having full scarce six thousand in his troop. +By three and twenty thousand of the French +Was round encompassed and set upon. +No leisure had he to enrank his men; +He wanted pikes to set before his archers; +Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges +They pitched in the ground confusedly, +To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. +More than three hours the fight continued; +Where valiant Talbot above human thought +Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: +Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; +Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew: +The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms; +All the whole army stood agazed on him: +His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit +A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain +And rush'd into the bowels of the battle. +Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up, +If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward: +He, being in the vaward, placed behind +With purpose to relieve and follow them, +Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. +Hence grew the general wreck and massacre; +Enclosed were they with their enemies: +A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, +Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, +Whom all France with their chief assembled strength +Durst not presume to look once in the face. + +BEDFORD +Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, +For living idly here in pomp and ease, +Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, +Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. + +Messenger +O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, +And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford: +Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. + +BEDFORD +His ransom there is none but I shall pay: +I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne: +His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; +Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. +Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; +Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, +To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: +Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, +Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. + +Messenger +So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; +The English army is grown weak and faint: +The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, +And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, +Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. + +EXETER +Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, +Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, +Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + +BEDFORD +I do remember it; and here take my leave, +To go about my preparation. + +Exit + +GLOUCESTER +I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, +To view the artillery and munition; +And then I will proclaim young Henry king. + +Exit + +EXETER +To Eltham will I, where the young king is, +Being ordain'd his special governor, +And for his safety there I'll best devise. + +Exit + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Each hath his place and function to attend: +I am left out; for me nothing remains. +But long I will not be Jack out of office: +The king from Eltham I intend to steal +And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. France. Before Orleans. + +Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers +CHARLES +Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens +So in the earth, to this day is not known: +Late did he shine upon the English side; +Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. +What towns of any moment but we have? +At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; +Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, +Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + +ALENCON +They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: +Either they must be dieted like mules +And have their provender tied to their mouths +Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + +REIGNIER +Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here? +Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: +Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury; +And he may well in fretting spend his gall, +Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + +CHARLES +Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them. +Now for the honour of the forlorn French! +Him I forgive my death that killeth me +When he sees me go back one foot or fly. + +Exeunt + +Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER + +CHARLES +Who ever saw the like? what men have I! +Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled, +But that they left me 'midst my enemies. + +REIGNIER +Salisbury is a desperate homicide; +He fighteth as one weary of his life. +The other lords, like lions wanting food, +Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + +ALENCON +Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, +England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, +During the time Edward the Third did reign. +More truly now may this be verified; +For none but Samsons and Goliases +It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! +Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose +They had such courage and audacity? + +CHARLES +Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves, +And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: +Of old I know them; rather with their teeth +The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + +REIGNIER +I think, by some odd gimmors or device +Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on; +Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. +By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + +ALENCON +Be it so. + +Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + +CHARLES +Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd: +Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? +Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand: +A holy maid hither with me I bring, +Which by a vision sent to her from heaven +Ordained is to raise this tedious siege +And drive the English forth the bounds of France. +The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, +Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: +What's past and what's to come she can descry. +Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, +For they are certain and unfallible. + +CHARLES +Go, call her in. + +Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +But first, to try her skill, +Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place: +Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern: +By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + +Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE + +REIGNIER +Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? +Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; +I know thee well, though never seen before. +Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me: +In private will I talk with thee apart. +Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. + +REIGNIER +She takes upon her bravely at first dash. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, +My wit untrain'd in any kind of art. +Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased +To shine on my contemptible estate: +Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, +And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, +God's mother deigned to appear to me +And in a vision full of majesty +Will'd me to leave my base vocation +And free my country from calamity: +Her aid she promised and assured success: +In complete glory she reveal'd herself; +And, whereas I was black and swart before, +With those clear rays which she infused on me +That beauty am I bless'd with which you see. +Ask me what question thou canst possible, +And I will answer unpremeditated: +My courage try by combat, if thou darest, +And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. +Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate, +If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + +CHARLES +Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms: +Only this proof I'll of thy valour make, +In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, +And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; +Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword, +Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; +The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's +churchyard, +Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + +CHARLES +Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. + +Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes + +CHARLES +Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon +And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. + +CHARLES +Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: +Impatiently I burn with thy desire; +My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. +Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, +Let me thy servant and not sovereign be: +'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I must not yield to any rites of love, +For my profession's sacred from above: +When I have chased all thy foes from hence, +Then will I think upon a recompense. + +CHARLES +Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + +REIGNIER +My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + +ALENCON +Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; +Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + +REIGNIER +Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + +ALENCON +He may mean more than we poor men do know: +These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. + +REIGNIER +My lord, where are you? what devise you on? +Shall we give over Orleans, or no? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! +Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. + +CHARLES +What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Assign'd am I to be the English scourge. +This night the siege assuredly I'll raise: +Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, +Since I have entered into these wars. +Glory is like a circle in the water, +Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself +Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. +With Henry's death the English circle ends; +Dispersed are the glories it included. +Now am I like that proud insulting ship +Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + +CHARLES +Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? +Thou with an eagle art inspired then. +Helen, the mother of great Constantine, +Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee. +Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth, +How may I reverently worship thee enough? + +ALENCON +Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + +REIGNIER +Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; +Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized. + +CHARLES +Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it: +No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before the Tower. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats +GLOUCESTER +I am come to survey the Tower this day: +Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. +Where be these warders, that they wait not here? +Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. + +First Warder +[Within] Who's there that knocks so imperiously? +First Serving-Man It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + +Second Warder +[Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. +First Serving-Man Villains, answer you so the lord protector? + +First Warder +[Within] The Lord protect him! so we answer him: +We do no otherwise than we are will'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? +There's none protector of the realm but I. +Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize. +Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? + +Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within + +WOODVILE +What noise is this? what traitors have we here? + +GLOUCESTER +Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? +Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter. + +WOODVILE +Have patience, noble duke; I may not open; +The Cardinal of Winchester forbids: +From him I have express commandment +That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + +GLOUCESTER +Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me? +Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate, +Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook? +Thou art no friend to God or to the king: +Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. +Serving-Men Open the gates unto the lord protector, +Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. + +Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this? + +GLOUCESTER +Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +I do, thou most usurping proditor, +And not protector, of the king or realm. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, +Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord; +Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin: +I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, +If thou proceed in this thy insolence. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: +This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, +To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back: +Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth +I'll use to carry thee out of this place. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face. + +GLOUCESTER +What! am I dared and bearded to my face? +Draw, men, for all this privileged place; +Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard, +I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly: +Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat: +In spite of pope or dignities of church, +Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope. + +GLOUCESTER +Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope! +Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay? +Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array. +Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite! + +Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly- burly the Mayor of London and his Officers + +Mayor +Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, +Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + +GLOUCESTER +Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: +Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, +Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, +One that still motions war and never peace, +O'ercharging your free purses with large fines, +That seeks to overthrow religion, +Because he is protector of the realm, +And would have armour here out of the Tower, +To crown himself king and suppress the prince. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not answer thee with words, but blows. + +Here they skirmish again + +Mayor +Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife +But to make open proclamation: +Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst, +Cry. + +Officer +All manner of men assembled here in arms this day +against God's peace and the king's, we charge and +command you, in his highness' name, to repair to +your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, +handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger, +henceforward, upon pain of death. + +GLOUCESTER +Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: +But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure: +Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. + +Mayor +I'll call for clubs, if you will not away. +This cardinal's more haughty than the devil. + +GLOUCESTER +Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head; +For I intend to have it ere long. + +Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF WINCHESTER with their Serving-men + +Mayor +See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart. +Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear! +I myself fight not once in forty year. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Orleans. + +Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy +Master-Gunner Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged, +And how the English have the suburbs won. + +Boy +Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, +Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim. +Master-Gunner But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me: +Chief master-gunner am I of this town; +Something I must do to procure me grace. +The prince's espials have informed me +How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd, +Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars +In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, +And thence discover how with most advantage +They may vex us with shot, or with assault. +To intercept this inconvenience, +A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed; +And even these three days have I watch'd, +If I could see them. +Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer. +If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; +And thou shalt find me at the governor's. + +Exit + +Boy +Father, I warrant you; take you no care; +I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. + +Exit + +Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT, GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others + +SALISBURY +Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! +How wert thou handled being prisoner? +Or by what means got'st thou to be released? +Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + +TALBOT +The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner +Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; +For him was I exchanged and ransomed. +But with a baser man of arms by far +Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: +Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death, +Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd. +In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. +But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart, +Whom with my bare fists I would execute, +If I now had him brought into my power. + +SALISBURY +Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd. + +TALBOT +With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. +In open market-place produced they me, +To be a public spectacle to all: +Here, said they, is the terror of the French, +The scarecrow that affrights our children so. +Then broke I from the officers that led me, +And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground, +To hurl at the beholders of my shame: +My grisly countenance made others fly; +None durst come near for fear of sudden death. +In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; +So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread, +That they supposed I could rend bars of steel, +And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: +Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, +That walked about me every minute-while; +And if I did but stir out of my bed, +Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + +Enter the Boy with a linstock + +SALISBURY +I grieve to hear what torments you endured, +But we will be revenged sufficiently +Now it is supper-time in Orleans: +Here, through this grate, I count each one +and view the Frenchmen how they fortify: +Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale, +Let me have your express opinions +Where is best place to make our battery next. + +GARGRAVE +I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords. + +GLANSDALE +And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + +TALBOT +For aught I see, this city must be famish'd, +Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. + +Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall + +SALISBURY +O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + +GARGRAVE +O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man! + +TALBOT +What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? +Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak: +How farest thou, mirror of all martial men? +One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! +Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand +That hath contrived this woful tragedy! +In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; +Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; +Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, +His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. +Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, +One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: +The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. +Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, +If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! +Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? +Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. +Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort; +Thou shalt not die whiles-- +He beckons with his hand and smiles on me. +As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, +Remember to avenge me on the French.' +Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, +Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: +Wretched shall France be only in my name. + +Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens + +What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? +Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head: +The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, +A holy prophetess new risen up, +Is come with a great power to raise the siege. + +Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans + +TALBOT +Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! +It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. +Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you: +Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, +Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels, +And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. +Convey me Salisbury into his tent, +And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them then re-enter TALBOT +TALBOT +Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? +Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: +A woman clad in armour chaseth them. + +Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE + +Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee; +Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: +Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, +And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. + +Here they fight + +TALBOT +Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? +My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage +And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder. +But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. + +They fight again + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: +I must go victual Orleans forthwith. + +A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers + +O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. +Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; +Help Salisbury to make his testament: +This day is ours, as many more shall be. + +Exit + +TALBOT +My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; +I know not where I am, nor what I do; +A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, +Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: +So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench +Are from their hives and houses driven away. +They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; +Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. + +A short alarum + +Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, +Or tear the lions out of England's coat; +Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: +Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, +Or horse or oxen from the leopard, +As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. + +Alarum. Here another skirmish + +It will not be: retire into your trenches: +You all consented unto Salisbury's death, +For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. +Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans, +In spite of us or aught that we could do. +O, would I were to die with Salisbury! +The shame hereof will make me hide my head. + +Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish + +SCENE VI. The same. + +Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Advance our waving colours on the walls; +Rescued is Orleans from the English +Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. + +CHARLES +Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, +How shall I honour thee for this success? +Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens +That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. +France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! +Recover'd is the town of Orleans: +More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + +REIGNIER +Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? +Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires +And feast and banquet in the open streets, +To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + +ALENCON +All France will be replete with mirth and joy, +When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. + +CHARLES +'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; +For which I will divide my crown with her, +And all the priests and friars in my realm +Shall in procession sing her endless praise. +A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear +Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: +In memory of her when she is dead, +Her ashes, in an urn more precious +Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius, +Transported shall be at high festivals +Before the kings and queens of France. +No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, +But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. +Come in, and let us banquet royally, +After this golden day of victory. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Before Orleans. + +Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels +Sergeant +Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: +If any noise or soldier you perceive +Near to the walls, by some apparent sign +Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + +First Sentinel +Sergeant, you shall. + +Exit Sergeant + +Thus are poor servitors, +When others sleep upon their quiet beds, +Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march + +TALBOT +Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, +By whose approach the regions of Artois, +Wallon and Picardy are friends to us, +This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, +Having all day caroused and banqueted: +Embrace we then this opportunity +As fitting best to quittance their deceit +Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. + +BEDFORD +Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame, +Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, +To join with witches and the help of hell! + +BURGUNDY +Traitors have never other company. +But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + +TALBOT +A maid, they say. + +BEDFORD +A maid! and be so martial! + +BURGUNDY +Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, +If underneath the standard of the French +She carry armour as she hath begun. + +TALBOT +Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: +God is our fortress, in whose conquering name +Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + +BEDFORD +Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. + +TALBOT +Not all together: better far, I guess, +That we do make our entrance several ways; +That, if it chance the one of us do fail, +The other yet may rise against their force. + +BEDFORD +Agreed: I'll to yond corner. + +BURGUNDY +And I to this. + +TALBOT +And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. +Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right +Of English Henry, shall this night appear +How much in duty I am bound to both. + +Sentinels +Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault! + +Cry: 'St. George,' 'A Talbot.' + +The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready + +ALENCON +How now, my lords! what, all unready so? + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well. + +REIGNIER +'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, +Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. + +ALENCON +Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms, +Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise +More venturous or desperate than this. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + +REIGNIER +If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. + +ALENCON +Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard. + +Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE + +CHARLES +Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? +Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, +Make us partakers of a little gain, +That now our loss might be ten times so much? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend! +At all times will you have my power alike? +Sleeping or waking must I still prevail, +Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? +Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good, +This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + +CHARLES +Duke of Alencon, this was your default, +That, being captain of the watch to-night, +Did look no better to that weighty charge. + +ALENCON +Had all your quarters been as safely kept +As that whereof I had the government, +We had not been thus shamefully surprised. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Mine was secure. + +REIGNIER +And so was mine, my lord. + +CHARLES +And, for myself, most part of all this night, +Within her quarter and mine own precinct +I was employ'd in passing to and fro, +About relieving of the sentinels: +Then how or which way should they first break in? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Question, my lords, no further of the case, +How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place +But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. +And now there rests no other shift but this; +To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed, +And lay new platforms to endamage them. + +Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their clothes behind + +Soldier +I'll be so bold to take what they have left. +The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; +For I have loaden me with many spoils, +Using no other weapon but his name. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Orleans. Within the town. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others +BEDFORD +The day begins to break, and night is fled, +Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. +Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. + +Retreat sounded + +TALBOT +Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, +And here advance it in the market-place, +The middle centre of this cursed town. +Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; +For every drop of blood was drawn from him, +There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight. +And that hereafter ages may behold +What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, +Within their chiefest temple I'll erect +A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: +Upon the which, that every one may read, +Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans, +The treacherous manner of his mournful death +And what a terror he had been to France. +But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, +I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, +His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, +Nor any of his false confederates. + +BEDFORD +'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, +Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, +They did amongst the troops of armed men +Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + +BURGUNDY +Myself, as far as I could well discern +For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, +Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, +When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, +Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves +That could not live asunder day or night. +After that things are set in order here, +We'll follow them with all the power we have. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +All hail, my lords! which of this princely train +Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts +So much applauded through the realm of France? + +TALBOT +Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him? + +Messenger +The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, +With modesty admiring thy renown, +By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe +To visit her poor castle where she lies, +That she may boast she hath beheld the man +Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + +BURGUNDY +Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars +Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, +When ladies crave to be encounter'd with. +You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + +TALBOT +Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men +Could not prevail with all their oratory, +Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled: +And therefore tell her I return great thanks, +And in submission will attend on her. +Will not your honours bear me company? + +BEDFORD +No, truly; it is more than manners will: +And I have heard it said, unbidden guests +Are often welcomest when they are gone. + +TALBOT +Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, +I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. +Come hither, captain. + +Whispers + +You perceive my mind? + +Captain +I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle. + +Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Porter, remember what I gave in charge; +And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + +Porter +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, +I shall as famous be by this exploit +As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. +Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight, +And his achievements of no less account: +Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, +To give their censure of these rare reports. + +Enter Messenger and TALBOT + +Messenger +Madam, +According as your ladyship desired, +By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +And he is welcome. What! is this the man? + +Messenger +Madam, it is. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Is this the scourge of France? +Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad +That with his name the mothers still their babes? +I see report is fabulous and false: +I thought I should have seen some Hercules, +A second Hector, for his grim aspect, +And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. +Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! +It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp +Should strike such terror to his enemies. + +TALBOT +Madam, I have been bold to trouble you; +But since your ladyship is not at leisure, +I'll sort some other time to visit you. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. + +Messenger +Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves +To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + +TALBOT +Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, +I go to certify her Talbot's here. + +Re-enter Porter with keys + +COUNTESS + +The Second part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 2 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL, on the one side; QUEEN MARGARET, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other +SUFFOLK +As by your high imperial majesty +I had in charge at my depart for France, +As procurator to your excellence, +To marry Princess Margaret for your grace, +So, in the famous ancient city, Tours, +In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, +The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and Alencon, +Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops, +I have perform'd my task and was espoused: +And humbly now upon my bended knee, +In sight of England and her lordly peers, +Deliver up my title in the queen +To your most gracious hands, that are the substance +Of that great shadow I did represent; +The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, +The fairest queen that ever king received. + +KING HENRY VI +Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret: +I can express no kinder sign of love +Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life, +Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! +For thou hast given me in this beauteous face +A world of earthly blessings to my soul, +If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great King of England and my gracious lord, +The mutual conference that my mind hath had, +By day, by night, waking and in my dreams, +In courtly company or at my beads, +With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign, +Makes me the bolder to salute my king +With ruder terms, such as my wit affords +And over-joy of heart doth minister. + +KING HENRY VI +Her sight did ravish; but her grace in speech, +Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, +Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys; +Such is the fulness of my heart's content. +Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. + +ALL +[Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's +happiness! + +QUEEN MARGARET +We thank you all. + +Flourish + +SUFFOLK +My lord protector, so it please your grace, +Here are the articles of contracted peace +Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, +For eighteen months concluded by consent. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'Imprimis, it is agreed between the French +king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of +Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that +the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, +daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and +Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the +thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy +of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released +and delivered to the king her father'-- + +Lets the paper fall + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, how now! + +GLOUCESTER +Pardon me, gracious lord; +Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart +And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. + +CARDINAL +[Reads] 'Item, It is further agreed between them, +that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be +released and delivered over to the king her father, +and she sent over of the King of England's own +proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.' + +KING HENRY VI +They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down: +We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk, +And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York, +We here discharge your grace from being regent +I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months +Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester, +Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, +Salisbury, and Warwick; +We thank you all for the great favour done, +In entertainment to my princely queen. +Come, let us in, and with all speed provide +To see her coronation be perform'd. + +Exeunt KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and SUFFOLK + +GLOUCESTER +Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, +To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, +Your grief, the common grief of all the land. +What! did my brother Henry spend his youth, +His valour, coin and people, in the wars? +Did he so often lodge in open field, +In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, +To conquer France, his true inheritance? +And did my brother Bedford toil his wits, +To keep by policy what Henry got? +Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, +Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, +Received deep scars in France and Normandy? +Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, +With all the learned council of the realm, +Studied so long, sat in the council-house +Early and late, debating to and fro +How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, +And had his highness in his infancy +Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? +And shall these labours and these honours die? +Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance, +Your deeds of war and all our counsel die? +O peers of England, shameful is this league! +Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, +Blotting your names from books of memory, +Razing the characters of your renown, +Defacing monuments of conquer'd France, +Undoing all, as all had never been! + +CARDINAL +Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, +This peroration with such circumstance? +For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can; +But now it is impossible we should: +Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, +Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine +Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style +Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. + +SALISBURY +Now, by the death of Him that died for all, +These counties were the keys of Normandy. +But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son? + +WARWICK +For grief that they are past recovery: +For, were there hope to conquer them again, +My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. +Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both; +Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer: +And are the cities, that I got with wounds, +Delivered up again with peaceful words? +Mort Dieu! + +YORK +For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate, +That dims the honour of this warlike isle! +France should have torn and rent my very heart, +Before I would have yielded to this league. +I never read but England's kings have had +Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives: +And our King Henry gives away his own, +To match with her that brings no vantages. + +GLOUCESTER +A proper jest, and never heard before, +That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth +For costs and charges in transporting her! +She should have stayed in France and starved +in France, Before-- + +CARDINAL +My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot: +It was the pleasure of my lord the King. + +GLOUCESTER +My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind; +'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, +But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye. +Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face +I see thy fury: if I longer stay, +We shall begin our ancient bickerings. +Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone, +I prophesied France will be lost ere long. + +Exit + +CARDINAL +So, there goes our protector in a rage. +'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, +Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, +And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. +Consider, lords, he is the next of blood, +And heir apparent to the English crown: +Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, +And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west, +There's reason he should be displeased at it. +Look to it, lords! let not his smoothing words +Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect. +What though the common people favour him, +Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of +Gloucester,' +Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice, +'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!' +With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!' +I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss, +He will be found a dangerous protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why should he, then, protect our sovereign, +He being of age to govern of himself? +Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, +And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, +We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat. + +CARDINAL +This weighty business will not brook delay: +I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. + +Exit + +SOMERSET +Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride +And greatness of his place be grief to us, +Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal: +His insolence is more intolerable +Than all the princes in the land beside: +If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector, +Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal. + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET + +SALISBURY +Pride went before, ambition follows him. +While these do labour for their own preferment, +Behoves it us to labour for the realm. +I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester +Did bear him like a noble gentleman. +Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, +More like a soldier than a man o' the church, +As stout and proud as he were lord of all, +Swear like a ruffian and demean himself +Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. +Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, +Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping, +Hath won the greatest favour of the commons, +Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey: +And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, +In bringing them to civil discipline, +Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, +When thou wert regent for our sovereign, +Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people: +Join we together, for the public good, +In what we can, to bridle and suppress +The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal, +With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; +And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds, +While they do tend the profit of the land. + +WARWICK +So God help Warwick, as he loves the land, +And common profit of his country! + +YORK +[Aside] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause. + +SALISBURY +Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main. + +WARWICK +Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost; +That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, +And would have kept so long as breath did last! +Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, +Which I will win from France, or else be slain, + +Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY + +YORK +Anjou and Maine are given to the French; +Paris is lost; the state of Normandy +Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: +Suffolk concluded on the articles, +The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased +To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. +I cannot blame them all: what is't to them? +'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. +Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage +And purchase friends and give to courtezans, +Still revelling like lords till all be gone; +While as the silly owner of the goods +Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands +And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof, +While all is shared and all is borne away, +Ready to starve and dare not touch his own: +So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue, +While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold. +Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland +Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood +As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd +Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. +Anjou and Maine both given unto the French! +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, +Even as I have of fertile England's soil. +A day will come when York shall claim his own; +And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts +And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, +And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, +For that's the golden mark I seek to hit: +Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, +Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist, +Nor wear the diadem upon his head, +Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown. +Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve: +Watch thou and wake when others be asleep, +To pry into the secrets of the state; +Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love, +With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, +And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars: +Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, +With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed; +And in my standard bear the arms of York +To grapple with the house of Lancaster; +And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown, +Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down. + +Exit + +SCENE II. GLOUCESTER'S house. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS +DUCHESS +Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn, +Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? +Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, +As frowning at the favours of the world? +Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth, +Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? +What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem, +Enchased with all the honours of the world? +If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, +Until thy head be circled with the same. +Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold. +What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine: +And, having both together heaved it up, +We'll both together lift our heads to heaven, +And never more abase our sight so low +As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. + +GLOUCESTER +O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, +Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts. +And may that thought, when I imagine ill +Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, +Be my last breathing in this mortal world! +My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. + +DUCHESS +What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it +With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. + +GLOUCESTER +Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, +Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot, +But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; +And on the pieces of the broken wand +Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, +And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. +This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows. + +DUCHESS +Tut, this was nothing but an argument +That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove +Shall lose his head for his presumption. +But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: +Methought I sat in seat of majesty +In the cathedral church of Westminster, +And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd; +Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me +And on my head did set the diadem. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: +Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, +Art thou not second woman in the realm, +And the protector's wife, beloved of him? +Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, +Above the reach or compass of thy thought? +And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, +To tumble down thy husband and thyself +From top of honour to disgrace's feet? +Away from me, and let me hear no more! + +DUCHESS +What, what, my lord! are you so choleric +With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? +Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself, +And not be cheque'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again. + +Enter Messenger + +Messenger +My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure +You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, +Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk. + +GLOUCESTER +I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? + +DUCHESS +Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger + +Follow I must; I cannot go before, +While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. +Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, +I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks +And smooth my way upon their headless necks; +And, being a woman, I will not be slack +To play my part in Fortune's pageant. +Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, +We are alone; here's none but thee and I. + +Enter HUME + +HUME +Jesus preserve your royal majesty! + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace. + +HUME +But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice, +Your grace's title shall be multiplied. + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd +With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, +With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? +And will they undertake to do me good? + +HUME +This they have promised, to show your highness +A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, +That shall make answer to such questions +As by your grace shall be propounded him. + +DUCHESS +It is enough; I'll think upon the questions: +When from St. Alban's we do make return, +We'll see these things effected to the full. +Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, +With thy confederates in this weighty cause. + +Exit + +HUME +Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold; +Marry, and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume! +Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum: +The business asketh silent secrecy. +Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: +Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. +Yet have I gold flies from another coast; +I dare not say, from the rich cardinal +And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, +Yet I do find it so; for to be plain, +They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, +Have hired me to undermine the duchess +And buz these conjurations in her brain. +They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker;' +Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. +Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near +To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. +Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last +Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck, +And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall: +Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the Armourer's man, being one +First Petitioner +My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector +will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver +our supplications in the quill. + +Second Petitioner +Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! +Jesu bless him! + +Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET + +PETER +Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. +I'll be the first, sure. + +Second Petitioner +Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and +not my lord protector. + +SUFFOLK +How now, fellow! would'st anything with me? + +First Petitioner +I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord +protector. + +QUEEN MARGARET +[Reading] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your +supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: +what is thine? + +First Petitioner +Mine is, an't please your grace, against John +Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my +house, and lands, and wife and all, from me. + +SUFFOLK +Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's +yours? What's here! + +Reads + +'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the +commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave! + +Second Petitioner +Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. + +PETER +[Giving his petition] Against my master, Thomas +Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful +heir to the crown. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What sayst thou? did the Duke of York say he was +rightful heir to the crown? + +PETER +That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said +that he was, and that the king was an usurper. + +SUFFOLK +Who is there? + +Enter Servant + +Take this fellow in, and send for +his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear +more of your matter before the King. + +Exit Servant with PETER + +QUEEN MARGARET +And as for you, that love to be protected +Under the wings of our protector's grace, +Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. + +Tears the supplication + +Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go. + +ALL +Come, let's be gone. + +Exeunt + +QUEEN MARGARET +My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, +Is this the fashion in the court of England? +Is this the government of Britain's isle, +And this the royalty of Albion's king? +What shall King Henry be a pupil still +Under the surly Gloucester's governance? +Am I a queen in title and in style, +And must be made a subject to a duke? +I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours +Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love +And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, +I thought King Henry had resembled thee +In courage, courtship and proportion: +But all his mind is bent to holiness, +To number Ave-Maries on his beads; +His champions are the prophets and apostles, +His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, +His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves +Are brazen images of canonized saints. +I would the college of the cardinals +Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome, +And set the triple crown upon his head: +That were a state fit for his holiness. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, be patient: as I was cause +Your highness came to England, so will I +In England work your grace's full content. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort, +The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, +And grumbling York: and not the least of these +But can do more in England than the king. + +SUFFOLK +And he of these that can do most of all +Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: +Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Not all these lords do vex me half so much +As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. +She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, +More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife: +Strangers in court do take her for the queen: +She bears a duke's revenues on her back, +And in her heart she scorns our poverty: +Shall I not live to be avenged on her? +Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, +She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, +The very train of her worst wearing gown +Was better worth than all my father's lands, +Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, +And placed a quire of such enticing birds, +That she will light to listen to the lays, +And never mount to trouble you again. +So, let her rest: and, madam, list to me; +For I am bold to counsel you in this. +Although we fancy not the cardinal, +Yet must we join with him and with the lords, +Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. +As for the Duke of York, this late complaint +Will make but little for his benefit. +So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, +And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and the DUCHESS + +KING HENRY VI +For my part, noble lords, I care not which; +Or Somerset or York, all's one to me. + +YORK +If York have ill demean'd himself in France, +Then let him be denay'd the regentship. + +SOMERSET +If Somerset be unworthy of the place, +Let York be regent; I will yield to him. + +WARWICK +Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no, +Dispute not that: York is the worthier. + +CARDINAL +Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. + +WARWICK +The cardinal's not my better in the field. + +BUCKINGHAM +All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. + +WARWICK +Warwick may live to be the best of all. + +SALISBURY +Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham, +Why Somerset should be preferred in this. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Because the king, forsooth, will have it so. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, the king is old enough himself +To give his censure: these are no women's matters. + +QUEEN MARGARET +If he be old enough, what needs your grace +To be protector of his excellence? + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, I am protector of the realm; +And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. + +SUFFOLK +Resign it then and leave thine insolence. +Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?-- +The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck; +The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas; +And all the peers and nobles of the realm +Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. + +CARDINAL +The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags +Are lank and lean with thy extortions. + +SOMERSET +Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire +Have cost a mass of public treasury. + +BUCKINGHAM +Thy cruelty in execution +Upon offenders, hath exceeded law, +And left thee to the mercy of the law. + +QUEEN MARGARET +They sale of offices and towns in France, +If they were known, as the suspect is great, +Would make thee quickly hop without thy head. + +Exit GLOUCESTER. QUEEN MARGARET drops her fan + +Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not? + +She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear + +I cry you mercy, madam; was it you? + +DUCHESS +Was't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman: +Could I come near your beauty with my nails, +I'd set my ten commandments in your face. + +KING HENRY VI +Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will. + +DUCHESS +Against her will! good king, look to't in time; +She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby: +Though in this place most master wear no breeches, +She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. + +Exit + +BUCKINGHAM +Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, +And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds: +She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs, +She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. + +Exit + +Re-enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Now, lords, my choler being over-blown +With walking once about the quadrangle, +I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. +As for your spiteful false objections, +Prove them, and I lie open to the law: +But God in mercy so deal with my soul, +As I in duty love my king and country! +But, to the matter that we have in hand: +I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man +To be your regent in the realm of France. + +SUFFOLK +Before we make election, give me leave +To show some reason, of no little force, +That York is most unmeet of any man. + +YORK +I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: +First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; +Next, if I be appointed for the place, +My Lord of Somerset will keep me here, +Without discharge, money, or furniture, +Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands: +Last time, I danced attendance on his will +Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost. + +WARWICK +That can I witness; and a fouler fact +Did never traitor in the land commit. + +SUFFOLK +Peace, headstrong Warwick! + +WARWICK +Image of pride, why should I hold my peace? + +Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man PETER, guarded + +SUFFOLK +Because here is a man accused of treason: +Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself! + +YORK +Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? + +KING HENRY VI +What mean'st thou, Suffolk; tell me, what are these? + +SUFFOLK +Please it your majesty, this is the man +That doth accuse his master of high treason: +His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York, +Was rightful heir unto the English crown +And that your majesty was a usurper. + +KING HENRY VI +Say, man, were these thy words? + +HORNER +An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor +thought any such matter: God is my witness, I am +falsely accused by the villain. + +PETER +By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to +me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my +Lord of York's armour. + +YORK +Base dunghill villain and mechanical, +I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech. +I do beseech your royal majesty, +Let him have all the rigor of the law. + +HORNER +Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words. +My accuser is my 'prentice; and when I did correct +him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his +knees he would be even with me: I have good +witness of this: therefore I beseech your majesty, +do not cast away an honest man for a villain's +accusation. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? + +GLOUCESTER +This doom, my lord, if I may judge: +Let Somerset be regent over the French, +Because in York this breeds suspicion: +And let these have a day appointed them +For single combat in convenient place, +For he hath witness of his servant's malice: +This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. + +SOMERSET +I humbly thank your royal majesty. + +HORNER +And I accept the combat willingly. + +PETER +Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity +my case. The spite of man prevaileth against me. O +Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to +fight a blow. O Lord, my heart! + +GLOUCESTER +Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd. + +KING HENRY VI +Away with them to prison; and the day of combat +shall be the last of the next month. Come, +Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. GLOUCESTER's garden. + +Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE +HUME +Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects +performance of your promises. + +BOLINGBROKE +Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her +ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? + +HUME +Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. + +BOLINGBROKE +I have heard her reported to be a woman of an +invincible spirit: but it shall be convenient, +Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be +busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in God's name, +and leave us. + +Exit HUME + +Mother Jourdain, be you +prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, +read you; and let us to our work. + +Enter the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following + +DUCHESS +Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this +gear the sooner the better. + +BOLINGBROKE +Patience, good lady; wizards know their times: +Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, +The time of night when Troy was set on fire; +The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl, +And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves, +That time best fits the work we have in hand. +Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise, +We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. + +Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, & c. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth + +Spirit +Adsum. + +MARGARET JOURDAIN +Asmath, +By the eternal God, whose name and power +Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; +For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence. + +Spirit +Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! + +BOLINGBROKE +'First of the king: what shall of him become?' + +Reading out of a paper + +Spirit +The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death. + +As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer + +BOLINGBROKE +'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?' + +Spirit +By water shall he die, and take his end. + +BOLINGBROKE +'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?' + +Spirit +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Have done, for more I hardly can endure. + +BOLINGBROKE +Descend to darkness and the burning lake! +False fiend, avoid! + +Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit + +Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guard and break in + +YORK +Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. +Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch. +What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal +Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains: +My lord protector will, I doubt it not, +See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts. + +DUCHESS +Not half so bad as thine to England's king, +Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, madam, none at all: what call you this? +Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close. +And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us. +Stafford, take her to thee. + +Exeunt above DUCHESS and HUME, guarded + +We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming. +All, away! + +Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, & c + +YORK +Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well: +A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon! +Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ. +What have we here? + +Reads + +'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death.' +Why, this is just +'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.' +Well, to the rest: +'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk? +By water shall he die, and take his end. +What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand.' +Come, come, my lords; +These oracles are hardly attain'd, +And hardly understood. +The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's, +With him the husband of this lovely lady: +Thither go these news, as fast as horse can +carry them: +A sorry breakfast for my lord protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, +To be the post, in hope of his reward. + +YORK +At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within +there, ho! + +Enter a Servingman + +Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick +To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Saint Alban's. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing +QUEEN MARGARET +Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook, +I saw not better sport these seven years' day: +Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high; +And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. + +KING HENRY VI +But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, +And what a pitch she flew above the rest! +To see how God in all his creatures works! +Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. + +SUFFOLK +No marvel, an it like your majesty, +My lord protector's hawks do tower so well; +They know their master loves to be aloft, +And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind +That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. + +CARDINAL +I thought as much; he would be above the clouds. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that? +Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven? + +KING HENRY VI +The treasury of everlasting joy. + +CARDINAL +Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts +Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart; +Pernicious protector, dangerous peer, +That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! + +GLOUCESTER +What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory? +Tantaene animis coelestibus irae? +Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; +With such holiness can you do it? + +SUFFOLK +No malice, sir; no more than well becomes +So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. + +GLOUCESTER +As who, my lord? + +SUFFOLK +Why, as you, my lord, +An't like your lordly lord-protectorship. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And thy ambition, Gloucester. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, peace, good queen, +And whet not on these furious peers; +For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. + +CARDINAL +Let me be blessed for the peace I make, +Against this proud protector, with my sword! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would +'twere come to that! + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou darest. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious +numbers for the matter; +In thine own person answer thy abuse. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou darest +not peep: an if thou darest, +This evening, on the east side of the grove. + +KING HENRY VI +How now, my lords! + +CARDINAL +Believe me, cousin Gloucester, +Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, +We had had more sport. + +Aside to GLOUCESTER + +Come with thy two-hand sword. + +GLOUCESTER +True, uncle. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advised? the +east side of the grove? + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, how now, uncle Gloucester! + +GLOUCESTER +Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. + +Aside to CARDINAL + +Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this, +Or all my fence shall fail. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum-- +Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. + +KING HENRY VI +The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords. +How irksome is this music to my heart! +When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? +I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. + +Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!' + +GLOUCESTER +What means this noise? +Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? + +Townsman +A miracle! a miracle! + +SUFFOLK +Come to the king and tell him what miracle. + +Townsman +Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, +Within this half-hour, hath received his sight; +A man that ne'er saw in his life before. + +KING HENRY VI +Now, God be praised, that to believing souls +Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair! + +Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following + +CARDINAL +Here comes the townsmen on procession, +To present your highness with the man. + +KING HENRY VI +Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, +Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king; +His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, +That we for thee may glorify the Lord. +What, hast thou been long blind and now restored? + +SIMPCOX +Born blind, an't please your grace. + +Wife +Ay, indeed, was he. + +SUFFOLK +What woman is this? + +Wife +His wife, an't like your worship. + +GLOUCESTER +Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have +better told. + +KING HENRY VI +Where wert thou born? + +SIMPCOX +At Berwick in the north, an't like your grace. + +KING HENRY VI +Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee: +Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, +But still remember what the Lord hath done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance, +Or of devotion, to this holy shrine? + +SIMPCOX +God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd +A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep, +By good Saint Alban; who said, 'Simpcox, come, +Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.' + +Wife +Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft +Myself have heard a voice to call him so. + +CARDINAL +What, art thou lame? + +SIMPCOX +Ay, God Almighty help me! + +SUFFOLK +How camest thou so? + +SIMPCOX +A fall off of a tree. + +Wife +A plum-tree, master. + +GLOUCESTER +How long hast thou been blind? + +SIMPCOX +Born so, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What, and wouldst climb a tree? + +SIMPCOX +But that in all my life, when I was a youth. + +Wife +Too true; and bought his climbing very dear. + +GLOUCESTER +Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst +venture so. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, +And made me climb, with danger of my life. + +GLOUCESTER +A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve. +Let me see thine eyes: wink now: now open them: +In my opinion yet thou seest not well. + +SIMPCOX +Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and +Saint Alban. + +GLOUCESTER +Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? + +SIMPCOX +Red, master; red as blood. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of? + +SIMPCOX +Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? + +SUFFOLK +And yet, I think, jet did he never see. + +GLOUCESTER +But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. + +Wife +Never, before this day, in all his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +What's his name? + +SIMPCOX +I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +Nor his? + +SIMPCOX +No, indeed, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What's thine own name? + +SIMPCOX +Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. + +GLOUCESTER +Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in +Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou +mightest as well have known all our names as thus to +name the several colours we do wear. Sight may +distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them +all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here +hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his +cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple +to his legs again? + +SIMPCOX +O master, that you could! + +GLOUCESTER +My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in +your town, and things called whips? + +Mayor +Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Then send for one presently. + +Mayor +Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. + +Exit an Attendant + +GLOUCESTER +Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, sirrah, +if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me +over this stool and run away. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone: +You go about to torture me in vain. + +Enter a Beadle with whips + +GLOUCESTER +Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah +beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. + +Beadle +I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your +doublet quickly. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand. + +After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!' + +KING HENRY VI +O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? + +QUEEN MARGARET +It made me laugh to see the villain run. + +GLOUCESTER +Follow the knave; and take this drab away. + +Wife +Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. + +GLOUCESTER +Let them be whipped through every market-town, till +they come to Berwick, from whence they came. + +Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, & c + +CARDINAL +Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day. + +SUFFOLK +True; made the lame to leap and fly away. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have done more miracles than I; +You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM + +KING HENRY VI +What tidings with our cousin Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. +A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, +Under the countenance and confederacy +Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, +The ringleader and head of all this rout, +Have practised dangerously against your state, +Dealing with witches and with conjurers: +Whom we have apprehended in the fact; +Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, +Demanding of King Henry's life and death, +And other of your highness' privy-council; +As more at large your grace shall understand. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] And so, my lord protector, +by this means +Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. +This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge; +'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. + +GLOUCESTER +Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart: +Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers; +And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee, +Or to the meanest groom. + +KING HENRY VI +O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, +Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest. +And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal, +How I have loved my king and commonweal: +And, for my wife, I know not how it stands; +Sorry I am to hear what I have heard: +Noble she is, but if she have forgot +Honour and virtue and conversed with such +As, like to pitch, defile nobility, +I banish her my bed and company +And give her as a prey to law and shame, +That hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. + +KING HENRY VI +Well, for this night we will repose us here: +To-morrow toward London back again, +To look into this business thoroughly +And call these foul offenders to their answers +And poise the cause in justice' equal scales, +Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. YORK'S garden. + +Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK +YORK +Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, +Our simple supper ended, give me leave +In this close walk to satisfy myself, +In craving your opinion of my title, +Which is infallible, to England's crown. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I long to hear it at full. + +WARWICK +Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good, +The Nevils are thy subjects to command. + +YORK +Then thus: +Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons: +The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; +The second, William of Hatfield, and the third, +Lionel Duke of Clarence: next to whom +Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; +The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; +The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; +William of Windsor was the seventh and last. +Edward the Black Prince died before his father +And left behind him Richard, his only son, +Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king; +Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, +The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, +Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth, +Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, +Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came, +And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know, +Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously. + +WARWICK +Father, the duke hath told the truth: +Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. + +YORK +Which now they hold by force and not by right; +For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, +The issue of the next son should have reign'd. + +SALISBURY +But William of Hatfield died without an heir. + +YORK +The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line +I claimed the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter, +Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March: +Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March; +Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor. + +SALISBURY +This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, +As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; +And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, +Who kept him in captivity till he died. +But to the rest. + +YORK +His eldest sister, Anne, +My mother, being heir unto the crown +Married Richard Earl of Cambridge; who was son +To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. +By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir +To Roger Earl of March, who was the son +Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, +Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence: +So, if the issue of the elder son +Succeed before the younger, I am king. + +WARWICK +What plain proceeding is more plain than this? +Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, +The fourth son; York claims it from the third. +Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign: +It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee +And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. +Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; +And in this private plot be we the first +That shall salute our rightful sovereign +With honour of his birthright to the crown. + +BOTH +Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king! + +YORK +We thank you, lords. But I am not your king +Till I be crown'd and that my sword be stain'd +With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; +And that's not suddenly to be perform'd, +But with advice and silent secrecy. +Do you as I do in these dangerous days: +Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, +At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, +At Buckingham and all the crew of them, +Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, +That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey: +'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that +Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. + +SALISBURY +My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full. + +WARWICK +My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick +Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. + +YORK +And, Nevil, this I do assure myself: +Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick +The greatest man in England but the king. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall of justice. + +Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS, MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard +KING HENRY VI +Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife: +In sight of God and us, your guilt is great: +Receive the sentence of the law for sins +Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. +You four, from hence to prison back again; +From thence unto the place of execution: +The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes, +And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. +You, madam, for you are more nobly born, +Despoiled of your honour in your life, +Shall, after three days' open penance done, +Live in your country here in banishment, +With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man. + +DUCHESS +Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death. + +GLOUCESTER +Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath judged thee: +I cannot justify whom the law condemns. + +Exeunt DUCHESS and other prisoners, guarded + +Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. +Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age +Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground! +I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; +Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go, +Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself +Protector be; and God shall be my hope, +My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet: +And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved +Than when thou wert protector to thy King. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I see no reason why a king of years +Should be to be protected like a child. +God and King Henry govern England's realm. +Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm. + +GLOUCESTER +My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: +As willingly do I the same resign +As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; +And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it +As others would ambitiously receive it. +Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, +May honourable peace attend thy throne! + +Exit + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen; +And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, +That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once; +His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off. +This staff of honour raught, there let it stand +Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. + +SUFFOLK +Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; +Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. + +YORK +Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, +This is the day appointed for the combat; +And ready are the appellant and defendant, +The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, +So please your highness to behold the fight. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore +Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried. + +KING HENRY VI +O God's name, see the lists and all things fit: +Here let them end it; and God defend the right! + +YORK +I never saw a fellow worse bested, +Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, +The servant of this armourer, my lords. + +Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters with a drum before him and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sand-bag, and 'Prentices drinking to him + +First Neighbour +Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of +sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. + +Second Neighbour +And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco. + +Third Neighbour +And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour: +drink, and fear not your man. + +HORNER +Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and +a fig for Peter! +First 'Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid. +Second 'Prentice Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight +for credit of the 'prentices. + +PETER +I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray +you; for I think I have taken my last draught in +this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee +my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: +and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O +Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to +deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already. + +SALISBURY +Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. +Sirrah, what's thy name? + +PETER +Peter, forsooth. + +SALISBURY +Peter! what more? + +PETER +Thump. + +SALISBURY +Thump! then see thou thump thy master well. + +HORNER +Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's +instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an +honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will +take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the +king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at +thee with a downright blow! + +YORK +Dispatch: this knave's tongue begins to double. +Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants! + +Alarum. They fight, and PETER strikes him down + +HORNER +Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. + +Dies + +YORK +Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the +good wine in thy master's way. + +PETER +O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence? +O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! + +KING HENRY VI +Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; +For his death we do perceive his guilt: +And God in justice hath revealed to us +The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, +Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully. +Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. + +Sound a flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks +GLOUCESTER +Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; +And after summer evermore succeeds +Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: +So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. +Sirs, what's o'clock? + +Servants +Ten, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Ten is the hour that was appointed me +To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: +Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, +To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. +Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook +The abject people gazing on thy face, +With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, +That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels +When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. +But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare +My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. + +Enter the DUCHESS in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers + +Servant +So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff. + +GLOUCESTER +No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. + +DUCHESS +Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? +Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! +See how the giddy multitude do point, +And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! +Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, +And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, +And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! + +GLOUCESTER +Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. + +DUCHESS +Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! +For whilst I think I am thy married wife +And thou a prince, protector of this land, +Methinks I should not thus be led along, +Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, +And followed with a rabble that rejoice +To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. +The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, +And when I start, the envious people laugh +And bid me be advised how I tread. +Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? +Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, +Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? +No; dark shall be my light and night my day; +To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. +Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, +And he a prince and ruler of the land: +Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was +As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, +Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock +To every idle rascal follower. +But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, +Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death +Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; +For Suffolk, he that can do all in all +With her that hateth thee and hates us all, +And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, +Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings, +And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee: +But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, +Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry; +I must offend before I be attainted; +And had I twenty times so many foes, +And each of them had twenty times their power, +All these could not procure me any scathe, +So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless. +Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? +Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away +But I in danger for the breach of law. +Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell: +I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; +These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. + +Enter a Herald + +Herald +I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, +Holden at Bury the first of this next month. + +GLOUCESTER +And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! +This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. + +Exit Herald + +My Nell, I take my leave: and, master sheriff, +Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. + +Sheriff +An't please your grace, here my commission stays, +And Sir John Stanley is appointed now +To take her with him to the Isle of Man. + +GLOUCESTER +Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? + +STANLEY +So am I given in charge, may't please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Entreat her not the worse in that I pray +You use her well: the world may laugh again; +And I may live to do you kindness if +You do it her: and so, Sir John, farewell! + +DUCHESS +What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell! + +GLOUCESTER +Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Servingmen + +DUCHESS +Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! +For none abides with me: my joy is death; +Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd, +Because I wish'd this world's eternity. +Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence; +I care not whither, for I beg no favour, +Only convey me where thou art commanded. + +STANLEY +Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; +There to be used according to your state. + +DUCHESS +That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: +And shall I then be used reproachfully? + +STANLEY +Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady; +According to that state you shall be used. + +DUCHESS +Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, +Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. + +Sheriff +It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. + +DUCHESS +Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged. +Come, Stanley, shall we go? + +STANLEY +Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, +And go we to attire you for our journey. + +DUCHESS +My shame will not be shifted with my sheet: +No, it will hang upon my richest robes +And show itself, attire me how I can. +Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament +KING HENRY VI +I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come: +'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, +Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Can you not see? or will ye not observe +The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? +With what a majesty he bears himself, +How insolent of late he is become, +How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? +We know the time since he was mild and affable, +And if we did but glance a far-off look, +Immediately he was upon his knee, +That all the court admired him for submission: +But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, +When every one will give the time of day, +He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, +And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, +Disdaining duty that to us belongs. +Small curs are not regarded when they grin; +But great men tremble when the lion roars; +And Humphrey is no little man in England. +First note that he is near you in descent, +And should you fall, he as the next will mount. +Me seemeth then it is no policy, +Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears +And his advantage following your decease, +That he should come about your royal person +Or be admitted to your highness' council. +By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, +And when he please to make commotion, +'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. +Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; +Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden +And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. +The reverent care I bear unto my lord +Made me collect these dangers in the duke. +If it be fond, call it a woman's fear; +Which fear if better reasons can supplant, +I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. +My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, +Reprove my allegation, if you can; +Or else conclude my words effectual. + +SUFFOLK +Well hath your highness seen into this duke; +And, had I first been put to speak my mind, +I think I should have told your grace's tale. +The duchess, by his subornation, +Upon my life, began her devilish practises: +Or, if he were not privy to those faults, +Yet, by reputing of his high descent, +As next the king he was successive heir, +And such high vaunts of his nobility, +Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess +By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. +Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep; +And in his simple show he harbours treason. +The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. +No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man +Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. + +CARDINAL +Did he not, contrary to form of law, +Devise strange deaths for small offences done? + +YORK +And did he not, in his protectorship, +Levy great sums of money through the realm +For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? +By means whereof the towns each day revolted. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown. +Which time will bring to light in smooth +Duke Humphrey. + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, at once: the care you have of us, +To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, +Is worthy praise: but, shall I speak my conscience, +Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent +From meaning treason to our royal person +As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove: +The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given +To dream on evil or to work my downfall. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! +Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, +For he's disposed as the hateful raven: +Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him, +For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. +Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? +Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all +Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. + +Enter SOMERSET + +SOMERSET +All health unto my gracious sovereign! + +KING HENRY VI +Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? + +SOMERSET +That all your interest in those territories +Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. + +KING HENRY VI +Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done! + +YORK +[Aside] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France +As firmly as I hope for fertile England. +Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud +And caterpillars eat my leaves away; +But I will remedy this gear ere long, +Or sell my title for a glorious grave. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +All happiness unto my lord the king! +Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long. + +SUFFOLK +Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, +Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art: +I do arrest thee of high treason here. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush +Nor change my countenance for this arrest: +A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. +The purest spring is not so free from mud +As I am clear from treason to my sovereign: +Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty? + +YORK +'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, +And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay; +By means whereof his highness hath lost France. + +GLOUCESTER +Is it but thought so? what are they that think it? +I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, +Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. +So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, +Ay, night by night, in studying good for England, +That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, +Or any groat I hoarded to my use, +Be brought against me at my trial-day! +No; many a pound of mine own proper store, +Because I would not tax the needy commons, +Have I disbursed to the garrisons, +And never ask'd for restitution. + +CARDINAL +It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. + +GLOUCESTER +I say no more than truth, so help me God! + +YORK +In your protectorship you did devise +Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, +That England was defamed by tyranny. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was +protector, +Pity was all the fault that was in me; +For I should melt at an offender's tears, +And lowly words were ransom for their fault. +Unless it were a bloody murderer, +Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, +I never gave them condign punishment: +Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured +Above the felon or what trespass else. + +SUFFOLK +My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered: +But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, +Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. +I do arrest you in his highness' name; +And here commit you to my lord cardinal +To keep, until your further time of trial. + +KING HENRY VI +My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope +That you will clear yourself from all suspect: +My conscience tells me you are innocent. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous: +Virtue is choked with foul ambition +And charity chased hence by rancour's hand; +Foul subornation is predominant +And equity exiled your highness' land. +I know their complot is to have my life, +And if my death might make this island happy, +And prove the period of their tyranny, +I would expend it with all willingness: +But mine is made the prologue to their play; +For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, +Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. +Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, +And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; +Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue +The envious load that lies upon his heart; +And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, +Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, +By false accuse doth level at my life: +And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, +Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, +And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up +My liefest liege to be mine enemy: +Ay, all you have laid your heads together-- +Myself had notice of your conventicles-- +And all to make away my guiltless life. +I shall not want false witness to condemn me, +Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; +The ancient proverb will be well effected: +'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' + +CARDINAL +My liege, his railing is intolerable: +If those that care to keep your royal person +From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage +Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at, +And the offender granted scope of speech, +'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. + +SUFFOLK +Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here +With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, +As if she had suborned some to swear +False allegations to o'erthrow his state? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But I can give the loser leave to chide. + +GLOUCESTER +Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; +Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! +And well such losers may have leave to speak. + +BUCKINGHAM +He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day: +Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. + +CARDINAL +Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch +Before his legs be firm to bear his body. +Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, +And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. +Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! +For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. + +Exit, guarded + +The Third part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 3 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house. + +Alarum. Enter YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers +WARWICK +I wonder how the king escaped our hands. + +YORK +While we pursued the horsemen of the north, +He slily stole away and left his men: +Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, +Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, +Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, +Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, +Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in +Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. + +EDWARD +Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, +Is either slain or wounded dangerously; +I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: +That this is true, father, behold his blood. + +MONTAGUE +And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, +Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. + +RICHARD +Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. + +Throwing down SOMERSET's head + +YORK +Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. +But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? + +NORFOLK +Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! + +RICHARD +Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. + +WARWICK +And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, +Before I see thee seated in that throne +Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, +I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. +This is the palace of the fearful king, +And this the regal seat: possess it, York; +For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs' + +YORK +Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; +For hither we have broken in by force. + +NORFOLK +We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. + +YORK +Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; +And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. + +They go up + +WARWICK +And when the king comes, offer no violence, +Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. + +YORK +The queen this day here holds her parliament, +But little thinks we shall be of her council: +By words or blows here let us win our right. + +RICHARD +Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. + +WARWICK +The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, +Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, +And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice +Hath made us by-words to our enemies. + +YORK +Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; +I mean to take possession of my right. + +WARWICK +Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, +The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, +Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. +I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: +Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, +Even in the chair of state: belike he means, +Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, +To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. +Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father. +And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge +On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! + +CLIFFORD +The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. + +WESTMORELAND +What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: +My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. + +CLIFFORD +Patience is for poltroons, such as he: +He durst not sit there, had your father lived. +My gracious lord, here in the parliament +Let us assail the family of York. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, know you not the city favours them, +And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? + +EXETER +But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. + +KING HENRY VI +Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, +To make a shambles of the parliament-house! +Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats +Shall be the war that Henry means to use. +Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, +and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; +I am thy sovereign. + +YORK +I am thine. + +EXETER +For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York. + +YORK +'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. + +EXETER +Thy father was a traitor to the crown. + +WARWICK +Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown +In following this usurping Henry. + +CLIFFORD +Whom should he follow but his natural king? + +WARWICK +True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. + +KING HENRY VI +And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? + +YORK +It must and shall be so: content thyself. + +WARWICK +Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. + +WESTMORELAND +He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; +And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. + +WARWICK +And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget +That we are those which chased you from the field +And slew your fathers, and with colours spread +March'd through the city to the palace gates. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; +And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. + +WESTMORELAND +Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, +Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives +Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. + +CLIFFORD +Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, +I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger +As shall revenge his death before I stir. + +WARWICK +Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats! + +YORK +Will you we show our title to the crown? +If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. + +KING HENRY VI +What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? +Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; +Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: +I am the son of Henry the Fifth, +Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop +And seized upon their towns and provinces. + +WARWICK +Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. + +KING HENRY VI +The lord protector lost it, and not I: +When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. + +RICHARD +You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. +Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. + +EDWARD +Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. + +MONTAGUE +Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, +Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. + +RICHARD +Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly. + +YORK +Sons, peace! + +KING HENRY VI +Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. + +WARWICK +Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; +And be you silent and attentive too, +For he that interrupts him shall not live. + +KING HENRY VI +Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, +Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? +No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; +Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, +And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, +Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? +My title's good, and better far than his. + +WARWICK +Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. + +KING HENRY VI +Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. + +YORK +'Twas by rebellion against his king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-- +Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? + +YORK +What then? + +KING HENRY VI +An if he may, then am I lawful king; +For Richard, in the view of many lords, +Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, +Whose heir my father was, and I am his. + +YORK +He rose against him, being his sovereign, +And made him to resign his crown perforce. + +WARWICK +Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd, +Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? + +EXETER +No; for he could not so resign his crown +But that the next heir should succeed and reign. + +KING HENRY VI +Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? + +EXETER +His is the right, and therefore pardon me. + +YORK +Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? + +EXETER +My conscience tells me he is lawful king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, +Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. + +WARWICK +Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power, +Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, +Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, +Can set the duke up in despite of me. + +CLIFFORD +King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, +Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: +May that ground gape and swallow me alive, +Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father! + +KING HENRY VI +O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! + +YORK +Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. +What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? + +WARWICK +Do right unto this princely Duke of York, +Or I will fill the house with armed men, +And over the chair of state, where now he sits, +Write up his title with usurping blood. + +He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves + +KING HENRY VI +My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: +Let me for this my life-time reign as king. + +YORK +Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, +And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. + +KING HENRY VI +I am content: Richard Plantagenet, +Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. + +CLIFFORD +What wrong is this unto the prince your son! + +WARWICK +What good is this to England and himself! + +WESTMORELAND +Base, fearful and despairing Henry! + +CLIFFORD +How hast thou injured both thyself and us! + +WESTMORELAND +I cannot stay to hear these articles. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nor I. + +CLIFFORD +Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news. + +WESTMORELAND +Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, +In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be thou a prey unto the house of York, +And die in bands for this unmanly deed! + +CLIFFORD +In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, +Or live in peace abandon'd and despised! + +Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND + +WARWICK +Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. + +EXETER +They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, Exeter! + +WARWICK +Why should you sigh, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, +Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. +But be it as it may: I here entail +The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; +Conditionally, that here thou take an oath +To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, +To honour me as thy king and sovereign, +And neither by treason nor hostility +To seek to put me down and reign thyself. + +YORK +This oath I willingly take and will perform. + +WARWICK +Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him. + +KING HENRY VI +And long live thou and these thy forward sons! + +YORK +Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. + +EXETER +Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes! + +Sennet. Here they come down + +YORK +Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. + +WARWICK +And I'll keep London with my soldiers. + +NORFOLK +And I to Norfolk with my followers. + +MONTAGUE +And I unto the sea from whence I came. + +Exeunt YORK, EDWARD, EDMUND, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, their Soldiers, and Attendants + +KING HENRY VI +And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +EXETER +Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: +I'll steal away. + +KING HENRY VI +Exeter, so will I. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Who can be patient in such extremes? +Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid +And never seen thee, never borne thee son, +Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father +Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? +Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, +Or felt that pain which I did for him once, +Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood, +Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, +Rather than have that savage duke thine heir +And disinherited thine only son. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Father, you cannot disinherit me: +If you be king, why should not I succeed? + +KING HENRY VI +Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: +The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? +I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! +Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; +And given unto the house of York such head +As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. +To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, +What is it, but to make thy sepulchre +And creep into it far before thy time? +Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; +Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; +The duke is made protector of the realm; +And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds +The trembling lamb environed with wolves. +Had I been there, which am a silly woman, +The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes +Before I would have granted to that act. +But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: +And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself +Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, +Until that act of parliament be repeal'd +Whereby my son is disinherited. +The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours +Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; +And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace +And utter ruin of the house of York. +Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away; +Our army is ready; come, we'll after them. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone. + +KING HENRY VI +Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies. + +PRINCE EDWARD +When I return with victory from the field +I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Come, son, away; we may not linger thus. + +Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +KING HENRY VI +Poor queen! how love to me and to her son +Hath made her break out into terms of rage! +Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, +Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, +Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle +Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! +The loss of those three lords torments my heart: +I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. +Come, cousin you shall be the messenger. + +EXETER +And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Sandal Castle. + +Enter RICHARD, EDWARD, and MONTAGUE +RICHARD +Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. + +EDWARD +No, I can better play the orator. + +MONTAGUE +But I have reasons strong and forcible. + +Enter YORK + +YORK +Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife? +What is your quarrel? how began it first? + +EDWARD +No quarrel, but a slight contention. + +YORK +About what? + +RICHARD +About that which concerns your grace and us; +The crown of England, father, which is yours. + +YORK +Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead. + +RICHARD +Your right depends not on his life or death. + +EDWARD +Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: +By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, +It will outrun you, father, in the end. + +YORK +I took an oath that he should quietly reign. + +EDWARD +But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: +I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. + +RICHARD +No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. + +YORK +I shall be, if I claim by open war. + +RICHARD +I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. + +YORK +Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. + +RICHARD +An oath is of no moment, being not took +Before a true and lawful magistrate, +That hath authority over him that swears: +Henry had none, but did usurp the place; +Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, +Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. +Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think +How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; +Within whose circuit is Elysium +And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. +Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest +Until the white rose that I wear be dyed +Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. + +YORK +Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. +Brother, thou shalt to London presently, +And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. +Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, +And tell him privily of our intent. +You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, +With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: +In them I trust; for they are soldiers, +Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. +While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, +But that I seek occasion how to rise, +And yet the king not privy to my drift, +Nor any of the house of Lancaster? + +Enter a Messenger + +But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post? + +Messenger +The queen with all the northern earls and lords +Intend here to besiege you in your castle: +She is hard by with twenty thousand men; +And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. + +YORK +Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them? +Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; +My brother Montague shall post to London: +Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, +Whom we have left protectors of the king, +With powerful policy strengthen themselves, +And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. + +MONTAGUE +Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: +And thus most humbly I do take my leave. + +Exit + +Enter JOHN MORTIMER and HUGH MORTIMER + +Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, +You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; +The army of the queen mean to besiege us. + +JOHN MORTIMER +She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. + +YORK +What, with five thousand men? + +RICHARD +Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need: +A woman's general; what should we fear? + +A march afar off + +EDWARD +I hear their drums: let's set our men in order, +And issue forth and bid them battle straight. + +YORK +Five men to twenty! though the odds be great, +I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. +Many a battle have I won in France, +When as the enemy hath been ten to one: +Why should I not now have the like success? + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield. + +Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor +RUTLAND +Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? +Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! + +Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. +As for the brat of this accursed duke, +Whose father slew my father, he shall die. + +Tutor +And I, my lord, will bear him company. + +CLIFFORD +Soldiers, away with him! + +Tutor +Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, +Lest thou be hated both of God and man! + +Exit, dragged off by Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +How now! is he dead already? or is it fear +That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. + +RUTLAND +So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch +That trembles under his devouring paws; +And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, +And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. +Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, +And not with such a cruel threatening look. +Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. +I am too mean a subject for thy wrath: +Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. + +CLIFFORD +In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood +Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. + +RUTLAND +Then let my father's blood open it again: +He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. + +CLIFFORD +Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine +Were not revenge sufficient for me; +No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves +And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, +It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. +The sight of any of the house of York +Is as a fury to torment my soul; +And till I root out their accursed line +And leave not one alive, I live in hell. +Therefore-- + +Lifting his hand + +RUTLAND +O, let me pray before I take my death! +To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! + +CLIFFORD +Such pity as my rapier's point affords. + +RUTLAND +I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me? + +CLIFFORD +Thy father hath. + +RUTLAND +But 'twas ere I was born. +Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, +Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, +He be as miserably slain as I. +Ah, let me live in prison all my days; +And when I give occasion of offence, +Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. + +CLIFFORD +No cause! +Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. + +Stabs him + +RUTLAND +Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! + +Dies + +CLIFFORD +Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! +And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade +Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, +Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter YORK +YORK +The army of the queen hath got the field: +My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; +And all my followers to the eager foe +Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind +Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. +My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: +But this I know, they have demean'd themselves +Like men born to renown by life or death. +Three times did Richard make a lane to me. +And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!' +And full as oft came Edward to my side, +With purple falchion, painted to the hilt +In blood of those that had encounter'd him: +And when the hardiest warriors did retire, +Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!' +And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb! +A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!' +With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! +We bodged again; as I have seen a swan +With bootless labour swim against the tide +And spend her strength with over-matching waves. + +A short alarum within + +Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; +And I am faint and cannot fly their fury: +And were I strong, I would not shun their fury: +The sands are number'd that make up my life; +Here must I stay, and here my life must end. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers + +Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, +I dare your quenchless fury to more rage: +I am your butt, and I abide your shot. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. + +CLIFFORD +Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, +With downright payment, show'd unto my father. +Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car, +And made an evening at the noontide prick. + +YORK +My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth +A bird that will revenge upon you all: +And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, +Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. +Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? + +CLIFFORD +So cowards fight when they can fly no further; +So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; +So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, +Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. + +YORK +O Clifford, but bethink thee once again, +And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; +And, if though canst for blushing, view this face, +And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice +Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this! + +CLIFFORD +I will not bandy with thee word for word, +But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes +I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. +Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much +To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: +What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, +For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, +When he might spurn him with his foot away? +It is war's prize to take all vantages; +And ten to one is no impeach of valour. + +They lay hands on YORK, who struggles + +CLIFFORD +Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +So doth the cony struggle in the net. + +YORK +So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; +So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What would your grace have done unto him now? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, +Come, make him stand upon this molehill here, +That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, +Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. +What! was it you that would be England's king? +Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, +And made a preachment of your high descent? +Where are your mess of sons to back you now? +The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? +And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, +Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice +Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? +Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? +Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood +That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, +Made issue from the bosom of the boy; +And if thine eyes can water for his death, +I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. +Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, +I should lament thy miserable state. +I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York. +What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails +That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? +Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad; +And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. +Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. +Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport: +York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown. +A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him: +Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. + +Putting a paper crown on his head + +Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! +Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair, +And this is he was his adopted heir. +But how is it that great Plantagenet +Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? +As I bethink me, you should not be king +Till our King Henry had shook hands with death. +And will you pale your head in Henry's glory, +And rob his temples of the diadem, +Now in his life, against your holy oath? +O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable! +Off with the crown, and with the crown his head; +And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. + +CLIFFORD +That is my office, for my father's sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, stay; lets hear the orisons he makes. + +YORK +She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, +Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! +How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex +To triumph, like an Amazonian trull, +Upon their woes whom fortune captivates! +But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging, +Made impudent with use of evil deeds, +I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. +To tell thee whence thou camest, of whom derived, +Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. +Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, +Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem, +Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. +Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? +It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, +Unless the adage must be verified, +That beggars mounted run their horse to death. +'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; +But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: +'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; +The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: +'Tis government that makes them seem divine; +The want thereof makes thee abominable: +Thou art as opposite to every good +As the Antipodes are unto us, +Or as the south to the septentrion. +O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide! +How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child, +To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, +And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? +Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; +Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. +Bids't thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: +Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: +For raging wind blows up incessant showers, +And when the rage allays, the rain begins. +These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies: +And every drop cries vengeance for his death, +'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false +Frenchwoman. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so +That hardly can I cheque my eyes from tears. + +YORK +That face of his the hungry cannibals +Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: +But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, +O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania. +See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: +This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy, +And I with tears do wash the blood away. +Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: +And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, +Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears; +Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, +And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!' +There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; +And in thy need such comfort come to thee +As now I reap at thy too cruel hand! +Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: +My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin, +I should not for my life but weep with him. +To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland? +Think but upon the wrong he did us all, +And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. + +CLIFFORD +Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. + +Stabbing him + +QUEEN MARGARET +And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. + +Stabbing him + +YORK +Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God! +My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. + +Dies + +QUEEN MARGARET +Off with his head, and set it on York gates; +So York may overlook the town of York. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire. + +A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power +EDWARD +I wonder how our princely father 'scaped, +Or whether he be 'scaped away or no +From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit: +Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; +Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; +Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard +The happy tidings of his good escape. +How fares my brother? why is he so sad? + +RICHARD +I cannot joy, until I be resolved +Where our right valiant father is become. +I saw him in the battle range about; +And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth. +Methought he bore him in the thickest troop +As doth a lion in a herd of neat; +Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, +Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry, +The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. +So fared our father with his enemies; +So fled his enemies my warlike father: +Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. +See how the morning opes her golden gates, +And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! +How well resembles it the prime of youth, +Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! + +EDWARD +Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? + +RICHARD +Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; +Not separated with the racking clouds, +But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky. +See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, +As if they vow'd some league inviolable: +Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. +In this the heaven figures some event. + +EDWARD +'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. +I think it cites us, brother, to the field, +That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, +Each one already blazing by our meeds, +Should notwithstanding join our lights together +And over-shine the earth as this the world. +Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear +Upon my target three fair-shining suns. + +RICHARD +Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it, +You love the breeder better than the male. + +Enter a Messenger + +But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell +Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? + +Messenger +Ah, one that was a woful looker-on +When as the noble Duke of York was slain, +Your princely father and my loving lord! + +EDWARD +O, speak no more, for I have heard too much. + +RICHARD +Say how he died, for I will hear it all. + +Messenger +Environed he was with many foes, +And stood against them, as the hope of Troy +Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy. +But Hercules himself must yield to odds; +And many strokes, though with a little axe, +Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. +By many hands your father was subdued; +But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm +Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen, +Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite, +Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept, +The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks +A napkin steeped in the harmless blood +Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: +And after many scorns, many foul taunts, +They took his head, and on the gates of York +They set the same; and there it doth remain, +The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. + +EDWARD +Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, +Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. +O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain +The flower of Europe for his chivalry; +And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, +For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. +Now my soul's palace is become a prison: +Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body +Might in the ground be closed up in rest! +For never henceforth shall I joy again, +Never, O never shall I see more joy! + +RICHARD +I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture +Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: +Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; +For selfsame wind that I should speak withal +Is kindling coals that fires all my breast, +And burns me up with flames that tears would quench. +To weep is to make less the depth of grief: +Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me +Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death, +Or die renowned by attempting it. + +EDWARD +His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; +His dukedom and his chair with me is left. + +RICHARD +Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, +Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun: +For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say; +Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. + +March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army + +WARWICK +How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad? + +RICHARD +Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount +Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance +Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, +The words would add more anguish than the wounds. +O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain! + +EDWARD +O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet, +Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption, +Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. + +WARWICK +Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; +And now, to add more measure to your woes, +I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. +After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, +Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, +Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, +Were brought me of your loss and his depart. +I, then in London keeper of the king, +Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, +And very well appointed, as I thought, +March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, +Bearing the king in my behalf along; +For by my scouts I was advertised +That she was coming with a full intent +To dash our late decree in parliament +Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. +Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met +Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: +But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, +Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, +That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; +Or whether 'twas report of her success; +Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, +Who thunders to his captives blood and death, +I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, +Their weapons like to lightning came and went; +Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, +Or like an idle thresher with a flail, +Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. +I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, +With promise of high pay and great rewards: +But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, +And we in them no hope to win the day; +So that we fled; the king unto the queen; +Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, +In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: +For in the marches here we heard you were, +Making another head to fight again. + +EDWARD +Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? +And when came George from Burgundy to England? + +WARWICK +Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers; +And for your brother, he was lately sent +From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy, +With aid of soldiers to this needful war. + +RICHARD +'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled: +Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, +But ne'er till now his scandal of retire. + +WARWICK +Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear; +For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine +Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, +And wring the awful sceptre from his fist, +Were he as famous and as bold in war +As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. + +RICHARD +I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not: +'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak. +But in this troublous time what's to be done? +Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, +And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, +Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads? +Or shall we on the helmets of our foes +Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? +If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords. + +WARWICK +Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; +And therefore comes my brother Montague. +Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, +With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, +And of their feather many more proud birds, +Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. +He swore consent to your succession, +His oath enrolled in the parliament; +And now to London all the crew are gone, +To frustrate both his oath and what beside +May make against the house of Lancaster. +Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: +Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, +With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, +Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, +Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, +Why, Via! to London will we march amain, +And once again bestride our foaming steeds, +And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!' +But never once again turn back and fly. + +RICHARD +Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak: +Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, +That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay. + +EDWARD +Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; +And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!-- +Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! + +WARWICK +No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York: +The next degree is England's royal throne; +For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd +In every borough as we pass along; +And he that throws not up his cap for joy +Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. +King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, +Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown, +But sound the trumpets, and about our task. + +RICHARD +Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, +As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, +I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. + +EDWARD +Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us! + +Enter a Messenger + +WARWICK +How now! what news? + +Messenger +The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, +The queen is coming with a puissant host; +And craves your company for speedy counsel. + +WARWICK +Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before York. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets +QUEEN MARGARET +Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. +Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy +That sought to be encompass'd with your crown: +Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck: +To see this sight, it irks my very soul. +Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault, +Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow. + +CLIFFORD +My gracious liege, this too much lenity +And harmful pity must be laid aside. +To whom do lions cast their gentle looks? +Not to the beast that would usurp their den. +Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? +Not his that spoils her young before her face. +Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? +Not he that sets his foot upon her back. +The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, +And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. +Ambitious York doth level at thy crown, +Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows: +He, but a duke, would have his son a king, +And raise his issue, like a loving sire; +Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son, +Didst yield consent to disinherit him, +Which argued thee a most unloving father. +Unreasonable creatures feed their young; +And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, +Yet, in protection of their tender ones, +Who hath not seen them, even with those wings +Which sometime they have used with fearful flight, +Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, +Offer their own lives in their young's defence? +For shame, my liege, make them your precedent! +Were it not pity that this goodly boy +Should lose his birthright by his father's fault, +And long hereafter say unto his child, +'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got +My careless father fondly gave away'? +Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; +And let his manly face, which promiseth +Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart +To hold thine own and leave thine own with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, +Inferring arguments of mighty force. +But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear +That things ill-got had ever bad success? +And happy always was it for that son +Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? +I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; +And would my father had left me no more! +For all the rest is held at such a rate +As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep +Than in possession and jot of pleasure. +Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know +How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, +And this soft courage makes your followers faint. +You promised knighthood to our forward son: +Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. +Edward, kneel down. + +KING HENRY VI +Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; +And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right. + +PRINCE +My gracious father, by your kingly leave, +I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, +And in that quarrel use it to the death. + +CLIFFORD +Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Royal commanders, be in readiness: +For with a band of thirty thousand men +Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York; +And in the towns, as they do march along, +Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: +Darraign your battle, for they are at hand. + +CLIFFORD +I would your highness would depart the field: +The queen hath best success when you are absent. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be it with resolution then to fight. + +PRINCE EDWARD +My royal father, cheer these noble lords +And hearten those that fight in your defence: +Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!' + +March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace, +And set thy diadem upon my head; +Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy! +Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms +Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? + +EDWARD +I am his king, and he should bow his knee; +I was adopted heir by his consent: +Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, +You, that are king, though he do wear the crown, +Have caused him, by new act of parliament, +To blot out me, and put his own son in. + +CLIFFORD +And reason too: +Who should succeed the father but the son? + +RICHARD +Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak! + +CLIFFORD +Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee, +Or any he the proudest of thy sort. + +RICHARD +'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? + +CLIFFORD +Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. + +WARWICK +What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak? +When you and I met at Saint Alban's last, +Your legs did better service than your hands. + +WARWICK +Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. + +CLIFFORD +You said so much before, and yet you fled. + +WARWICK +'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay. + +RICHARD +Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. +Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain +The execution of my big-swoln heart +Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. + +CLIFFORD +I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child? + +RICHARD +Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, +As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; +But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. + +KING HENRY VI +Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, give no limits to my tongue: +I am a king, and privileged to speak. + +CLIFFORD +My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here +Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still. + +RICHARD +Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword: +By him that made us all, I am resolved +that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. + +EDWARD +Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? +A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, +That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. + +WARWICK +If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; +For York in justice puts his armour on. + +PRINCE EDWARD +If that be right which Warwick says is right, +There is no wrong, but every thing is right. + +RICHARD +Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; +For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam; +But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic, +Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided, +As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings. + +RICHARD +Iron of Naples hid with English gilt, +Whose father bears the title of a king,-- +As if a channel should be call'd the sea,-- +Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught, +To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? + +EDWARD +A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns, +To make this shameless callet know herself. +Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, +Although thy husband may be Menelaus; +And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd +By that false woman, as this king by thee. +His father revell'd in the heart of France, +And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop; +And had he match'd according to his state, +He might have kept that glory to this day; +But when he took a beggar to his bed, +And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day, +Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him, +That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, +And heap'd sedition on his crown at home. +For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride? +Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; +And we, in pity of the gentle king, +Had slipp'd our claim until another age. + +GEORGE +But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, +And that thy summer bred us no increase, +We set the axe to thy usurping root; +And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, +Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike, +We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down, +Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. + +EDWARD +And, in this resolution, I defy thee; +Not willing any longer conference, +Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak. +Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave! +And either victory, or else a grave. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Stay, Edward. + +EDWARD +No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay: +These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in +Yorkshire. + +Alarum. Excursions. Enter WARWICK + +WARWICK +Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, +I lay me down a little while to breathe; +For strokes received, and many blows repaid, +Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength, +And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. + +Enter EDWARD, running + +EDWARD +Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death! +For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. + +WARWICK +How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good? + +Enter GEORGE + +GEORGE +Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; +Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us: +What counsel give you? whither shall we fly? + +EDWARD +Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings; +And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. + +Enter RICHARD + +RICHARD +Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? +Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, +Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance; +And in the very pangs of death he cried, +Like to a dismal clangour heard from far, +'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!' +So, underneath the belly of their steeds, +That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood, +The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. + +WARWICK +Then let the earth be drunken with our blood: +I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. +Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, +Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage; +And look upon, as if the tragedy +Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors? +Here on my knee I vow to God above, +I'll never pause again, never stand still, +Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine +Or fortune given me measure of revenge. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine; +And in this vow do chain my soul to thine! +And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face, +I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee, +Thou setter up and plucker down of kings, +Beseeching thee, if with they will it stands +That to my foes this body must be prey, +Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope, +And give sweet passage to my sinful soul! +Now, lords, take leave until we meet again, +Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth. + +RICHARD +Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, +Let me embrace thee in my weary arms: +I, that did never weep, now melt with woe +That winter should cut off our spring-time so. + +WARWICK +Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell. + +GEORGE +Yet let us all together to our troops, +And give them leave to fly that will not stay; +And call them pillars that will stand to us; +And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards +As victors wear at the Olympian games: +This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; +For yet is hope of life and victory. +Forslow no longer, make we hence amain. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD +RICHARD +Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: +Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York, +And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, +Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall. + +CLIFFORD +Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: +This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York; +And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland; +And here's the heart that triumphs in their death +And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother +To execute the like upon thyself; +And so, have at thee! + +They fight. WARWICK comes; CLIFFORD flies + +RICHARD +Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; +For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone +KING HENRY VI +This battle fares like to the morning's war, +When dying clouds contend with growing light, +What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, +Can neither call it perfect day nor night. +Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea +Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; +Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea +Forced to retire by fury of the wind: +Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; +Now one the better, then another best; +Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, +Yet neither conqueror nor conquered: +So is the equal of this fell war. +Here on this molehill will I sit me down. +To whom God will, there be the victory! +For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, +Have chid me from the battle; swearing both +They prosper best of all when I am thence. +Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; +For what is in this world but grief and woe? +O God! methinks it were a happy life, +To be no better than a homely swain; +To sit upon a hill, as I do now, +To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, +Thereby to see the minutes how they run, +How many make the hour full complete; +How many hours bring about the day; +How many days will finish up the year; +How many years a mortal man may live. +When this is known, then to divide the times: +So many hours must I tend my flock; +So many hours must I take my rest; +So many hours must I contemplate; +So many hours must I sport myself; +So many days my ewes have been with young; +So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean: +So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: +So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, +Pass'd over to the end they were created, +Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. +Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! +Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade +To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, +Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy +To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? +O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. +And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, +His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle. +His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, +All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, +Is far beyond a prince's delicates, +His viands sparkling in a golden cup, +His body couched in a curious bed, +When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. + +Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body + +Son +Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. +This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, +May be possessed with some store of crowns; +And I, that haply take them from him now, +May yet ere night yield both my life and them +To some man else, as this dead man doth me. +Who's this? O God! it is my father's face, +Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd. +O heavy times, begetting such events! +From London by the king was I press'd forth; +My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, +Came on the part of York, press'd by his master; +And I, who at his hands received my life, him +Have by my hands of life bereaved him. +Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! +And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! +My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; +And no more words till they have flow'd their fill. + +KING HENRY VI +O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! +Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, +Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. +Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear; +And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, +Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief. + +Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body + +Father +Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, +Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold: +For I have bought it with an hundred blows. +But let me see: is this our foeman's face? +Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! +Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, +Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise, +Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, +Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart! +O, pity, God, this miserable age! +What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, +Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural, +This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! +O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, +And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! + +KING HENRY VI +Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! +O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! +O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! +The red rose and the white are on his face, +The fatal colours of our striving houses: +The one his purple blood right well resembles; +The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth: +Wither one rose, and let the other flourish; +If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. + +Son +How will my mother for a father's death +Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied! + +Father +How will my wife for slaughter of my son +Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! + +KING HENRY VI +How will the country for these woful chances +Misthink the king and not be satisfied! + +Son +Was ever son so rued a father's death? + +Father +Was ever father so bemoan'd his son? + +KING HENRY VI +Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? +Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. + +Son +I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. + +Exit with the body + +Father +These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet; +My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre, +For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go; +My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; +And so obsequious will thy father be, +Even for the loss of thee, having no more, +As Priam was for all his valiant sons. +I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, +For I have murdered where I should not kill. + +Exit with the body + +KING HENRY VI +Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, +Here sits a king more woful than you are. + +Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER + +PRINCE EDWARD +Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, +And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: +Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain: +Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds +Having the fearful flying hare in sight, +With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath, +And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, +Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. + +EXETER +Away! for vengeance comes along with them: +Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; +Or else come after: I'll away before. + +KING HENRY VI +Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter: +Not that I fear to stay, but love to go +Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Another part of the field. + +A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded +CLIFFORD +Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, +Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light. +O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow +More than my body's parting with my soul! +My love and fear glued many friends to thee; +And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts. +Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York, +The common people swarm like summer flies; +And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? +And who shines now but Henry's enemies? +O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent +That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds, +Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth! +And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, +Or as thy father and his father did, +Giving no ground unto the house of York, +They never then had sprung like summer flies; +I and ten thousand in this luckless realm +Had left no mourning widows for our death; +And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. +For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? +And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? +Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; +No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: +The foe is merciless, and will not pity; +For at their hands I have deserved no pity. +The air hath got into my deadly wounds, +And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. +Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest; +I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. + +He faints + +Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, +And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. +Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen, +That led calm Henry, though he were a king, +As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, +Command an argosy to stem the waves. +But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? + +WARWICK +No, 'tis impossible he should escape, +For, though before his face I speak the words +Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: +And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. + +CLIFFORD groans, and dies + +EDWARD +Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? + +RICHARD +A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. + +EDWARD +See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, +If friend or foe, let him be gently used. + +RICHARD +Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; +Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch +In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, +But set his murdering knife unto the root +From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, +I mean our princely father, Duke of York. + +WARWICK +From off the gates of York fetch down the head, +Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; +Instead whereof let this supply the room: +Measure for measure must be answered. + +EDWARD +Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, +That nothing sung but death to us and ours: +Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, +And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. + +WARWICK +I think his understanding is bereft. +Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? +Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, +And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. + +RICHARD +O, would he did! and so perhaps he doth: +'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, +Because he would avoid such bitter taunts +Which in the time of death he gave our father. + +GEORGE +If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. + +RICHARD +Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. + +EDWARD +Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. + +WARWICK +Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. + +GEORGE +While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. + +RICHARD +Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. + +EDWARD +Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. + +GEORGE +Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? + +WARWICK +They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont. + +RICHARD +What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard +When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. +I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, +If this right hand would buy two hour's life, +That I in all despite might rail at him, +This hand should chop it off, and with the +issuing blood +Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst +York and young Rutland could not satisfy. + +WARWICK +Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head, +And rear it in the place your father's stands. +And now to London with triumphant march, +There to be crowned England's royal king: +From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France, +And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen: +So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; +And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread +The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; +For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, +Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. +First will I see the coronation; +And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea, +To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. + +EDWARD +Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; +For in thy shoulder do I build my seat, +And never will I undertake the thing +Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. +Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, +And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself, +Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. + +RICHARD +Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester; +For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. + +WARWICK +Tut, that's a foolish observation: +Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, +To see these honours in possession. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A forest in the north of England. + +Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands +First Keeper +Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; +For through this laund anon the deer will come; +And in this covert will we make our stand, +Culling the principal of all the deer. + +Second Keeper +I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. + +First Keeper +That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow +Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. +Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: +And, for the time shall not seem tedious, +I'll tell thee what befell me on a day +In this self-place where now we mean to stand. + +Second Keeper +Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, disguised, with a prayerbook + +KING HENRY VI +From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, +To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. +No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; +Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, +Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: +No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, +No humble suitors press to speak for right, +No, not a man comes for redress of thee; +For how can I help them, and not myself? + +First Keeper +Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: +This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. + +KING HENRY VI +Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, +For wise men say it is the wisest course. + +Second Keeper +Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. + +First Keeper +Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. + +KING HENRY VI +My queen and son are gone to France for aid; +And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick +Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister +To wife for Edward: if this news be true, +Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; +For Warwick is a subtle orator, +And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. +By this account then Margaret may win him; +For she's a woman to be pitied much: +Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; +Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; +The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; +And Nero will be tainted with remorse, +To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. +Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give; +She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, +He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. +She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; +He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd; +That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; +Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, +Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, +And in conclusion wins the king from her, +With promise of his sister, and what else, +To strengthen and support King Edward's place. +O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, +Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn! + +Second Keeper +Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? + +KING HENRY VI +More than I seem, and less than I was born to: +A man at least, for less I should not be; +And men may talk of kings, and why not I? + +Second Keeper +Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. + +Second Keeper +But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? + +KING HENRY VI +My crown is in my heart, not on my head; +Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, +Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: +A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. + +Second Keeper +Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, +Your crown content and you must be contented +To go along with us; for as we think, +You are the king King Edward hath deposed; +And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance +Will apprehend you as his enemy. + +KING HENRY VI +But did you never swear, and break an oath? + +Second Keeper +No, never such an oath; nor will not now. + +KING HENRY VI +Where did you dwell when I was King of England? + +Second Keeper +Here in this country, where we now remain. + +KING HENRY VI +I was anointed king at nine months old; +My father and my grandfather were kings, +And you were sworn true subjects unto me: +And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? + +First Keeper +No; +For we were subjects but while you were king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? +Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! +Look, as I blow this feather from my face, +And as the air blows it to me again, +Obeying with my wind when I do blow, +And yielding to another when it blows, +Commanded always by the greater gust; +Such is the lightness of you common men. +But do not break your oaths; for of that sin +My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. +Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; +And be you kings, command, and I'll obey. + +First Keeper +We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. + +KING HENRY VI +So would you be again to Henry, +If he were seated as King Edward is. + +First Keeper +We charge you, in God's name, and the king's, +To go with us unto the officers. + +KING HENRY VI +In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: +And what God will, that let your king perform; +And what he will, I humbly yield unto. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY +KING EDWARD IV +Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field +This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, +His lands then seized on by the conqueror: +Her suit is now to repossess those lands; +Which we in justice cannot well deny, +Because in quarrel of the house of York +The worthy gentleman did lose his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; +It were dishonour to deny it her. + +KING EDWARD IV +It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so? +I see the lady hath a thing to grant, +Before the king will grant her humble suit. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game: how true +he keeps the wind! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Silence! + +KING EDWARD IV +Widow, we will consider of your suit; +And come some other time to know our mind. + +LADY GREY +Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: +May it please your highness to resolve me now; +And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant +you all your lands, +An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. +Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she +chance to fall. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that! for he'll +take vantages. + +KING EDWARD IV +How many children hast thou, widow? tell me. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a +child of her. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, whip me then: he'll rather +give her two. + +LADY GREY +Three, my most gracious lord. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] You shall have four, if you'll +be ruled by him. + +KING EDWARD IV +'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. + +LADY GREY +Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. + +KING EDWARD IV +Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, good leave have you; for +you will have leave, +Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. + +GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE retire + +KING EDWARD IV +Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? + +LADY GREY +Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. + +KING EDWARD IV +And would you not do much to do them good? + +LADY GREY +To do them good, I would sustain some harm. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. + +LADY GREY +Therefore I came unto your majesty. + +KING EDWARD IV +I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. + +LADY GREY +So shall you bind me to your highness' service. + +KING EDWARD IV +What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? + +LADY GREY +What you command, that rests in me to do. + +KING EDWARD IV +But you will take exceptions to my boon. + +LADY GREY +No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. + +LADY GREY +Why, then I will do what your grace commands. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] He plies her hard; and much rain +wears the marble. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] As red as fire! nay, then +her wax must melt. + +LADY GREY +Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task? + +KING EDWARD IV +An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. + +LADY GREY +That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. + +LADY GREY +I take my leave with many thousand thanks. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The match is made; she seals it +with a curtsy. + +KING EDWARD IV +But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean. + +LADY GREY +The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. +What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? + +LADY GREY +My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers; +That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. + +KING EDWARD IV +No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. + +LADY GREY +Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. + +KING EDWARD IV +But now you partly may perceive my mind. + +LADY GREY +My mind will never grant what I perceive +Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. + +KING EDWARD IV +To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. + +LADY GREY +To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. + +LADY GREY +Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; +For by that loss I will not purchase them. + +KING EDWARD IV +Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. + +LADY GREY +Herein your highness wrongs both them and me. +But, mighty lord, this merry inclination +Accords not with the sadness of my suit: +Please you dismiss me either with 'ay' or 'no.' + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request; +No if thou dost say 'no' to my demand. + +LADY GREY +Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The widow likes him not, she +knits her brows. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He is the bluntest wooer in +Christendom. + +KING EDWARD IV +[Aside] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty; +Her words do show her wit incomparable; +All her perfections challenge sovereignty: +One way or other, she is for a king; +And she shall be my love, or else my queen.-- +Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? + +LADY GREY +'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord: +I am a subject fit to jest withal, +But far unfit to be a sovereign. + +KING EDWARD IV +Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee +I speak no more than what my soul intends; +And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. + +LADY GREY +And that is more than I will yield unto: +I know I am too mean to be your queen, +And yet too good to be your concubine. + +KING EDWARD IV +You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen. + +LADY GREY +'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father. + +KING EDWARD IV +No more than when my daughters call thee mother. +Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; +And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, +Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing +To be the father unto many sons. +Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The ghostly father now hath done +his shrift. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] When he was made a shriver, +'twas for shift. + +KING EDWARD IV +Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. + +GLOUCESTER +The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. + +KING EDWARD IV +You'll think it strange if I should marry her. + +CLARENCE +To whom, my lord? + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, Clarence, to myself. + +GLOUCESTER +That would be ten days' wonder at the least. + +CLARENCE +That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. + +GLOUCESTER +By so much is the wonder in extremes. + +KING EDWARD IV +Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both +Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. + +Enter a Nobleman + +Nobleman +My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, +And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. + +KING EDWARD IV +See that he be convey'd unto the Tower: +And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, +To question of his apprehension. +Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, Edward will use women honourably. +Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all, +That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, +To cross me from the golden time I look for! +And yet, between my soul's desire and me-- +The lustful Edward's title buried-- +Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward, +And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies, +To take their rooms, ere I can place myself: +A cold premeditation for my purpose! +Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty; +Like one that stands upon a promontory, +And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, +Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, +And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, +Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: +So do I wish the crown, being so far off; +And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; +And so I say, I'll cut the causes off, +Flattering me with impossibilities. +My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, +Unless my hand and strength could equal them. +Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard; +What other pleasure can the world afford? +I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, +And deck my body in gay ornaments, +And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. +O miserable thought! and more unlikely +Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! +Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: +And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, +She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe, +To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; +To make an envious mountain on my back, +Where sits deformity to mock my body; +To shape my legs of an unequal size; +To disproportion me in every part, +Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp +That carries no impression like the dam. +And am I then a man to be beloved? +O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! +Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, +But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such +As are of better person than myself, +I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, +And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell, +Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head +Be round impaled with a glorious crown. +And yet I know not how to get the crown, +For many lives stand between me and home: +And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood, +That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns, +Seeking a way and straying from the way; +Not knowing how to find the open air, +But toiling desperately to find it out,-- +Torment myself to catch the English crown: +And from that torment I will free myself, +Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. +Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, +And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart, +And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, +And frame my face to all occasions. +I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; +I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; +I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, +Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, +And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. +I can add colours to the chameleon, +Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, +And set the murderous Machiavel to school. +Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? +Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. + +Exit + +The Life of King Henry the Eighth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VIII | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +I come no more to make you laugh: things now, +That bear a weighty and a serious brow, +Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, +Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, +We now present. Those that can pity, here +May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; +The subject will deserve it. Such as give +Their money out of hope they may believe, +May here find truth too. Those that come to see +Only a show or two, and so agree +The play may pass, if they be still and willing, +I'll undertake may see away their shilling +Richly in two short hours. Only they +That come to hear a merry bawdy play, +A noise of targets, or to see a fellow +In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, +Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, +To rank our chosen truth with such a show +As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting +Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, +To make that only true we now intend, +Will leave us never an understanding friend. +Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known +The first and happiest hearers of the town, +Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see +The very persons of our noble story +As they were living; think you see them great, +And follow'd with the general throng and sweat +Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see +How soon this mightiness meets misery: +And, if you can be merry then, I'll say +A man may weep upon his wedding-day. + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM and ABERGAVENNY +BUCKINGHAM +Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done +Since last we saw in France? + +NORFOLK +I thank your grace, +Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer +Of what I saw there. + +BUCKINGHAM +An untimely ague +Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when +Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, +Met in the vale of Andren. + +NORFOLK +'Twixt Guynes and Arde: +I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; +Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung +In their embracement, as they grew together; +Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd +Such a compounded one? + +BUCKINGHAM +All the whole time +I was my chamber's prisoner. + +NORFOLK +Then you lost +The view of earthly glory: men might say, +Till this time pomp was single, but now married +To one above itself. Each following day +Became the next day's master, till the last +Made former wonders its. To-day the French, +All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, +Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they +Made Britain India: every man that stood +Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were +As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too, +Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear +The pride upon them, that their very labour +Was to them as a painting: now this masque +Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night +Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, +Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, +As presence did present them; him in eye, +Still him in praise: and, being present both +'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner +Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-- +For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged +The noble spirits to arms, they did perform +Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, +Being now seen possible enough, got credit, +That Bevis was believed. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, you go far. + +NORFOLK +As I belong to worship and affect +In honour honesty, the tract of every thing +Would by a good discourser lose some life, +Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; +To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. +Order gave each thing view; the office did +Distinctly his full function. + +BUCKINGHAM +Who did guide, +I mean, who set the body and the limbs +Of this great sport together, as you guess? + +NORFOLK +One, certes, that promises no element +In such a business. + +BUCKINGHAM +I pray you, who, my lord? + +NORFOLK +All this was order'd by the good discretion +Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. + +BUCKINGHAM +The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed +From his ambitious finger. What had he +To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder +That such a keech can with his very bulk +Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun +And keep it from the earth. + +NORFOLK +Surely, sir, +There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; +For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace +Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon +For high feats done to the crown; neither allied +For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, +Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, +The force of his own merit makes his way +A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys +A place next to the king. + +ABERGAVENNY +I cannot tell +What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye +Pierce into that; but I can see his pride +Peep through each part of him: whence has he that, +If not from hell? the devil is a niggard, +Or has given all before, and he begins +A new hell in himself. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why the devil, +Upon this French going out, took he upon him, +Without the privity o' the king, to appoint +Who should attend on him? He makes up the file +Of all the gentry; for the most part such +To whom as great a charge as little honour +He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, +The honourable board of council out, +Must fetch him in the papers. + +ABERGAVENNY +I do know +Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have +By this so sickened their estates, that never +They shall abound as formerly. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, many +Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em +For this great journey. What did this vanity +But minister communication of +A most poor issue? + +NORFOLK +Grievingly I think, +The peace between the French and us not values +The cost that did conclude it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Every man, +After the hideous storm that follow'd, was +A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke +Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, +Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded +The sudden breach on't. + +NORFOLK +Which is budded out; +For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd +Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. + +ABERGAVENNY +Is it therefore +The ambassador is silenced? + +NORFOLK +Marry, is't. + +ABERGAVENNY +A proper title of a peace; and purchased +At a superfluous rate! + +BUCKINGHAM +Why, all this business +Our reverend cardinal carried. + +NORFOLK +Like it your grace, +The state takes notice of the private difference +Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you-- +And take it from a heart that wishes towards you +Honour and plenteous safety--that you read +The cardinal's malice and his potency +Together; to consider further that +What his high hatred would effect wants not +A minister in his power. You know his nature, +That he's revengeful, and I know his sword +Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, +It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, +Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, +You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock +That I advise your shunning. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? +Where's his examination? + +First Secretary +Here, so please you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he in person ready? + +First Secretary +Ay, please your grace. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham +Shall lessen this big look. + +Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train + +BUCKINGHAM +This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I +Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best +Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book +Outworths a noble's blood. + +NORFOLK +What, are you chafed? +Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only +Which your disease requires. + +BUCKINGHAM +I read in's looks +Matter against me; and his eye reviled +Me, as his abject object: at this instant +He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; +I'll follow and outstare him. + +NORFOLK +Stay, my lord, +And let your reason with your choler question +What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills +Requires slow pace at first: anger is like +A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, +Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England +Can advise me like you: be to yourself +As you would to your friend. + +BUCKINGHAM +I'll to the king; +And from a mouth of honour quite cry down +This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim +There's difference in no persons. + +NORFOLK +Be advised; +Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot +That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, +By violent swiftness, that which we run at, +And lose by over-running. Know you not, +The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, +In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: +I say again, there is no English soul +More stronger to direct you than yourself, +If with the sap of reason you would quench, +Or but allay, the fire of passion. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir, +I am thankful to you; and I'll go along +By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, +Whom from the flow of gall I name not but +From sincere motions, by intelligence, +And proofs as clear as founts in July when +We see each grain of gravel, I do know +To be corrupt and treasonous. + +NORFOLK +Say not 'treasonous.' + +BUCKINGHAM +To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong +As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, +Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous +As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief +As able to perform't; his mind and place +Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-- +Only to show his pomp as well in France +As here at home, suggests the king our master +To this last costly treaty, the interview, +That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass +Did break i' the rinsing. + +NORFOLK +Faith, and so it did. + +BUCKINGHAM +Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal +The articles o' the combination drew +As himself pleased; and they were ratified +As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end +As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal +Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, +Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,-- +Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy +To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor, +Under pretence to see the queen his aunt-- +For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came +To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation: +His fears were, that the interview betwixt +England and France might, through their amity, +Breed him some prejudice; for from this league +Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily +Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-- +Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor +Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted +Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, +And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, +That he would please to alter the king's course, +And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, +As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal +Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, +And for his own advantage. + +NORFOLK +I am sorry +To hear this of him; and could wish he were +Something mistaken in't. + +BUCKINGHAM +No, not a syllable: +I do pronounce him in that very shape +He shall appear in proof. + +Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and two or three of the Guard + +BRANDON +Your office, sergeant; execute it. + +Sergeant +Sir, +My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl +Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I +Arrest thee of high treason, in the name +Of our most sovereign king. + +BUCKINGHAM +Lo, you, my lord, +The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish +Under device and practise. + +BRANDON +I am sorry +To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on +The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure +You shall to the Tower. + +BUCKINGHAM +It will help me nothing +To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me +Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven +Be done in this and all things! I obey. +O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! + +BRANDON +Nay, he must bear you company. The king + +To ABERGAVENNY + +Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know +How he determines further. + +ABERGAVENNY +As the duke said, +The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure +By me obey'd! + +BRANDON +Here is a warrant from +The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies +Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, +One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-- + +BUCKINGHAM +So, so; +These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. + +BRANDON +A monk o' the Chartreux. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, Nicholas Hopkins? + +BRANDON +He. + +BUCKINGHAM +My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal +Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: +I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, +Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, +By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The council-chamber. + +Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY VIII's feet on his right side +KING HENRY VIII +My life itself, and the best heart of it, +Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level +Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks +To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us +That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person +I'll hear him his confessions justify; +And point by point the treasons of his master +He shall again relate. + +A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. + +KING HENRY VIII +Arise, and take place by us: half your suit +Never name to us; you have half our power: +The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; +Repeat your will and take it. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Thank your majesty. +That you would love yourself, and in that love +Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor +The dignity of your office, is the point +Of my petition. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lady mine, proceed. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am solicited, not by a few, +And those of true condition, that your subjects +Are in great grievance: there have been commissions +Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart +Of all their loyalties: wherein, although, +My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches +Most bitterly on you, as putter on +Of these exactions, yet the king our master-- +Whose honour heaven shield from soil!--even he +escapes not +Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks +The sides of loyalty, and almost appears +In loud rebellion. + +NORFOLK +Not almost appears, +It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, +The clothiers all, not able to maintain +The many to them longing, have put off +The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, +Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger +And lack of other means, in desperate manner +Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, +And danger serves among then! + +KING HENRY VIII +Taxation! +Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, +You that are blamed for it alike with us, +Know you of this taxation? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please you, sir, +I know but of a single part, in aught +Pertains to the state; and front but in that file +Where others tell steps with me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +No, my lord, +You know no more than others; but you frame +Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome +To those which would not know them, and yet must +Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, +Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are +Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em, +The back is sacrifice to the load. They say +They are devised by you; or else you suffer +Too hard an exclamation. + +KING HENRY VIII +Still exaction! +The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, +Is this exaction? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am much too venturous +In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd +Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief +Comes through commissions, which compel from each +The sixth part of his substance, to be levied +Without delay; and the pretence for this +Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: +Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze +Allegiance in them; their curses now +Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, +This tractable obedience is a slave +To each incensed will. I would your highness +Would give it quick consideration, for +There is no primer business. + +KING HENRY VIII +By my life, +This is against our pleasure. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And for me, +I have no further gone in this than by +A single voice; and that not pass'd me but +By learned approbation of the judges. If I am +Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know +My faculties nor person, yet will be +The chronicles of my doing, let me say +'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake +That virtue must go through. We must not stint +Our necessary actions, in the fear +To cope malicious censurers; which ever, +As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow +That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further +Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, +By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is +Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, +Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up +For our best act. If we shall stand still, +In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, +We should take root here where we sit, or sit +State-statues only. + +KING HENRY VIII +Things done well, +And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; +Things done without example, in their issue +Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent +Of this commission? I believe, not any. +We must not rend our subjects from our laws, +And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? +A trembling contribution! Why, we take +From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber; +And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, +The air will drink the sap. To every county +Where this is question'd send our letters, with +Free pardon to each man that has denied +The force of this commission: pray, look to't; +I put it to your care. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +A word with you. + +To the Secretary + +Let there be letters writ to every shire, +Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons +Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised +That through our intercession this revokement +And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you +Further in the proceeding. + +Exit Secretary + +Enter Surveyor + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham +Is run in your displeasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +It grieves many: +The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; +To nature none more bound; his training such, +That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, +And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, +When these so noble benefits shall prove +Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, +They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly +Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, +Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, +Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find +His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady, +Hath into monstrous habits put the graces +That once were his, and is become as black +As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-- +This was his gentleman in trust--of him +Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount +The fore-recited practises; whereof +We cannot feel too little, hear too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, +Most like a careful subject, have collected +Out of the Duke of Buckingham. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak freely. + +Surveyor +First, it was usual with him, every day +It would infect his speech, that if the king +Should without issue die, he'll carry it so +To make the sceptre his: these very words +I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, +Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced +Revenge upon the cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please your highness, note +This dangerous conception in this point. +Not friended by by his wish, to your high person +His will is most malignant; and it stretches +Beyond you, to your friends. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My learn'd lord cardinal, +Deliver all with charity. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak on: +How grounded he his title to the crown, +Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him +At any time speak aught? + +Surveyor +He was brought to this +By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. + +KING HENRY VIII +What was that Hopkins? + +Surveyor +Sir, a Chartreux friar, +His confessor, who fed him every minute +With words of sovereignty. + +KING HENRY VIII +How know'st thou this? + +Surveyor +Not long before your highness sped to France, +The duke being at the Rose, within the parish +Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand +What was the speech among the Londoners +Concerning the French journey: I replied, +Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, +To the king's danger. Presently the duke +Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted +'Twould prove the verity of certain words +Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he, +'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit +John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour +To hear from him a matter of some moment: +Whom after under the confession's seal +He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke +My chaplain to no creature living, but +To me, should utter, with demure confidence +This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs, +Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive +To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke +Shall govern England.' + +QUEEN KATHARINE +If I know you well, +You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office +On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed +You charge not in your spleen a noble person +And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; +Yes, heartily beseech you. + +KING HENRY VIII +Let him on. +Go forward. + +Surveyor +On my soul, I'll speak but truth. +I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions +The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him +To ruminate on this so far, until +It forged him some design, which, being believed, +It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush, +It can do me no damage;' adding further, +That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, +The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads +Should have gone off. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha! +There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further? + +Surveyor +I can, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +Proceed. + +Surveyor +Being at Greenwich, +After your highness had reproved the duke +About Sir William Blomer,-- + +KING HENRY VIII +I remember +Of such a time: being my sworn servant, +The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? + +Surveyor +'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed, +As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd +The part my father meant to act upon +The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, +Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, +As he made semblance of his duty, would +Have put his knife to him.' + +KING HENRY VIII +A giant traitor! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, +and this man out of prison? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +God mend all! + +KING HENRY VIII +There's something more would out of thee; what say'st? + +Surveyor +After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,' +He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, +Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes +He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor +Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo +His father by as much as a performance +Does an irresolute purpose. + +KING HENRY VIII +There's his period, +To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd; +Call him to present trial: if he may +Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, +Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night, +He's traitor to the height. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain and SANDS +Chamberlain +Is't possible the spells of France should juggle +Men into such strange mysteries? + +SANDS +New customs, +Though they be never so ridiculous, +Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. + +Chamberlain +As far as I see, all the good our English +Have got by the late voyage is but merely +A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; +For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly +Their very noses had been counsellors +To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. + +SANDS +They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it, +That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin +Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. + +Chamberlain +Death! my lord, +Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, +That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. + +Enter LOVELL + +How now! +What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? + +LOVELL +Faith, my lord, +I hear of none, but the new proclamation +That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. + +Chamberlain +What is't for? + +LOVELL +The reformation of our travell'd gallants, +That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. + +Chamberlain +I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs +To think an English courtier may be wise, +And never see the Louvre. + +LOVELL +They must either, +For so run the conditions, leave those remnants +Of fool and feather that they got in France, +With all their honourable point of ignorance +Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, +Abusing better men than they can be, +Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean +The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, +Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel, +And understand again like honest men; +Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, +They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away +The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. + +SANDS +'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases +Are grown so catching. + +Chamberlain +What a loss our ladies +Will have of these trim vanities! + +LOVELL +Ay, marry, +There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons +Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; +A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. + +SANDS +The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, +For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now +An honest country lord, as I am, beaten +A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong +And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, +Held current music too. + +Chamberlain +Well said, Lord Sands; +Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. + +SANDS +No, my lord; +Nor shall not, while I have a stump. + +Chamberlain +Sir Thomas, +Whither were you a-going? + +LOVELL +To the cardinal's: +Your lordship is a guest too. + +Chamberlain +O, 'tis true: +This night he makes a supper, and a great one, +To many lords and ladies; there will be +The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. + +LOVELL +That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, +A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; +His dews fall every where. + +Chamberlain +No doubt he's noble; +He had a black mouth that said other of him. + +SANDS +He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him +Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: +Men of his way should be most liberal; +They are set here for examples. + +Chamberlain +True, they are so: +But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; +Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, +We shall be late else; which I would not be, +For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford +This night to be comptrollers. + +SANDS +I am your lordship's. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place. + +Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD +GUILDFORD +Ladies, a general welcome from his grace +Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates +To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, +In all this noble bevy, has brought with her +One care abroad; he would have all as merry +As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome, +Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: + +Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL + +The very thought of this fair company +Clapp'd wings to me. + +Chamberlain +You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. + +SANDS +Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal +But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these +Should find a running banquet ere they rested, +I think would better please 'em: by my life, +They are a sweet society of fair ones. + +LOVELL +O, that your lordship were but now confessor +To one or two of these! + +SANDS +I would I were; +They should find easy penance. + +LOVELL +Faith, how easy? + +SANDS +As easy as a down-bed would afford it. + +Chamberlain +Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, +Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this: +His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; +Two women placed together makes cold weather: +My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; +Pray, sit between these ladies. + +SANDS +By my faith, +And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: +If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; +I had it from my father. + +ANNE +Was he mad, sir? + +SANDS +O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too: +But he would bite none; just as I do now, +He would kiss you twenty with a breath. + +Kisses her + +Chamberlain +Well said, my lord. +So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, +The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies +Pass away frowning. + +SANDS +For my little cure, +Let me alone. + +Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady, +Or gentleman, that is not freely merry, +Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; +And to you all, good health. + +Drinks + +SANDS +Your grace is noble: +Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, +And save me so much talking. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My Lord Sands, +I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. +Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen, +Whose fault is this? + +SANDS +The red wine first must rise +In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em +Talk us to silence. + +ANNE +You are a merry gamester, +My Lord Sands. + +SANDS +Yes, if I make my play. +Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam, +For 'tis to such a thing,-- + +ANNE +You cannot show me. + +SANDS +I told your grace they would talk anon. + +Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What's that? + +Chamberlain +Look out there, some of ye. + +Exit Servant + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What warlike voice, +And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; +By all the laws of war you're privileged. + +Re-enter Servant + +Chamberlain +How now! what is't? + +Servant +A noble troop of strangers; +For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; +And hither make, as great ambassadors +From foreign princes. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Good lord chamberlain, +Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; +And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em +Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty +Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. + +Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed + +You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it. +A good digestion to you all: and once more +I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. + +Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him + +A noble company! what are their pleasures? + +Chamberlain +Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd +To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame +Of this so noble and so fair assembly +This night to meet here, they could do no less +Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, +But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct, +Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat +An hour of revels with 'em. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Say, lord chamberlain, +They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em +A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. + +They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII chooses ANNE + +KING HENRY VIII +The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, +Till now I never knew thee! + +Music. Dance + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My lord! + +Chamberlain +Your grace? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, tell 'em thus much from me: +There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, +More worthy this place than myself; to whom, +If I but knew him, with my love and duty +I would surrender it. + +Chamberlain +I will, my lord. + +Whispers the Masquers + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What say they? + +Chamberlain +Such a one, they all confess, +There is indeed; which they would have your grace +Find out, and he will take it. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Let me see, then. +By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make +My royal choice. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye have found him, cardinal: + +Unmasking + +You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord: +You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal, +I should judge now unhappily. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I am glad +Your grace is grown so pleasant. + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord chamberlain, +Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that? + +Chamberlain +An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter-- +The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women. + +KING HENRY VIII +By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, +I were unmannerly, to take you out, +And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! +Let it go round. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready +I' the privy chamber? + +LOVELL +Yes, my lord. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace, +I fear, with dancing is a little heated. + +KING HENRY VIII +I fear, too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +There's fresher air, my lord, +In the next chamber. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner, +I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry: +Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths +To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure +To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream +Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. + +Exeunt with trumpets + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Westminster. A street. + +Enter two Gentlemen, meeting +First Gentleman +Whither away so fast? + +Second Gentleman +O, God save ye! +Even to the hall, to hear what shall become +Of the great Duke of Buckingham. + +First Gentleman +I'll save you +That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony +Of bringing back the prisoner. + +Second Gentleman +Were you there? + +First Gentleman +Yes, indeed, was I. + +Second Gentleman +Pray, speak what has happen'd. + +First Gentleman +You may guess quickly what. + +Second Gentleman +Is he found guilty? + +First Gentleman +Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't. + +Second Gentleman +I am sorry for't. + +First Gentleman +So are a number more. + +Second Gentleman +But, pray, how pass'd it? + +First Gentleman +I'll tell you in a little. The great duke +Came to the bar; where to his accusations +He pleaded still not guilty and alleged +Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. +The king's attorney on the contrary +Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions +Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired +To have brought viva voce to his face: +At which appear'd against him his surveyor; +Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, +Confessor to him; with that devil-monk, +Hopkins, that made this mischief. + +Second Gentleman +That was he +That fed him with his prophecies? + +First Gentleman +The same. +All these accused him strongly; which he fain +Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: +And so his peers, upon this evidence, +Have found him guilty of high treason. Much +He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all +Was either pitied in him or forgotten. + +Second Gentleman +After all this, how did he bear himself? + +First Gentleman +When he was brought again to the bar, to hear +His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd +With such an agony, he sweat extremely, +And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: +But he fell to himself again, and sweetly +In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. + +Second Gentleman +I do not think he fears death. + +First Gentleman +Sure, he does not: +He never was so womanish; the cause +He may a little grieve at. + +Second Gentleman +Certainly +The cardinal is the end of this. + +First Gentleman +'Tis likely, +By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder, +Then deputy of Ireland; who removed, +Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, +Lest he should help his father. + +Second Gentleman +That trick of state +Was a deep envious one. + +First Gentleman +At his return +No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, +And generally, whoever the king favours, +The cardinal instantly will find employment, +And far enough from court too. + +Second Gentleman +All the commons +Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, +Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much +They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham, +The mirror of all courtesy;-- + +First Gentleman +Stay there, sir, +And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL, VAUX, SANDS, and common people + +Second Gentleman +Let's stand close, and behold him. + +BUCKINGHAM +All good people, +You that thus far have come to pity me, +Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. +I have this day received a traitor's judgment, +And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, +And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me, +Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! +The law I bear no malice for my death; +'T has done, upon the premises, but justice: +But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: +Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em: +Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, +Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; +For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em. +For further life in this world I ne'er hope, +Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies +More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me, +And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, +His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave +Is only bitter to him, only dying, +Go with me, like good angels, to my end; +And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, +Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, +And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. + +LOVELL +I do beseech your grace, for charity, +If ever any malice in your heart +Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you +As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; +There cannot be those numberless offences +'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: +no black envy +Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace; +And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him +You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers +Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake, +Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live +Longer than I have time to tell his years! +Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! +And when old time shall lead him to his end, +Goodness and he fill up one monument! + +LOVELL +To the water side I must conduct your grace; +Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, +Who undertakes you to your end. + +VAUX +Prepare there, +The duke is coming: see the barge be ready; +And fit it with such furniture as suits +The greatness of his person. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nay, Sir Nicholas, +Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. +When I came hither, I was lord high constable +And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: +Yet I am richer than my base accusers, +That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; +And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't. +My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, +Who first raised head against usurping Richard, +Flying for succor to his servant Banister, +Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, +And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! +Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying +My father's loss, like a most royal prince, +Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins, +Made my name once more noble. Now his son, +Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all +That made me happy at one stroke has taken +For ever from the world. I had my trial, +And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me, +A little happier than my wretched father: +Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both +Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most; +A most unnatural and faithless service! +Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me, +This from a dying man receive as certain: +Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels +Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends +And give your hearts to, when they once perceive +The least rub in your fortunes, fall away +Like water from ye, never found again +But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, +Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour +Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: +And when you would say something that is sad, +Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me! + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train + +First Gentleman +O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, +I fear, too many curses on their beads +That were the authors. + +Second Gentleman +If the duke be guiltless, +'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling +Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, +Greater than this. + +First Gentleman +Good angels keep it from us! +What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? + +Second Gentleman +This secret is so weighty, 'twill require +A strong faith to conceal it. + +First Gentleman +Let me have it; +I do not talk much. + +Second Gentleman +I am confident, +You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear +A buzzing of a separation +Between the king and Katharine? + +First Gentleman +Yes, but it held not: +For when the king once heard it, out of anger +He sent command to the lord mayor straight +To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues +That durst disperse it. + +Second Gentleman +But that slander, sir, +Is found a truth now: for it grows again +Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain +The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, +Or some about him near, have, out of malice +To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple +That will undo her: to confirm this too, +Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately; +As all think, for this business. + +First Gentleman +'Tis the cardinal; +And merely to revenge him on the emperor +For not bestowing on him, at his asking, +The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed. + +Second Gentleman +I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel +That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal +Will have his will, and she must fall. + +First Gentleman +'Tis woful. +We are too open here to argue this; +Let's think in private more. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter +Chamberlain +'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with +all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and +furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the +best breed in the north. When they were ready to +set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by +commission and main power, took 'em from me; with +this reason: His master would be served before a +subject, if not before the king; which stopped our +mouths, sir.' +I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them: +He will have all, I think. + +Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +NORFOLK +Well met, my lord chamberlain. + +Chamberlain +Good day to both your graces. + +SUFFOLK +How is the king employ'd? + +Chamberlain +I left him private, +Full of sad thoughts and troubles. + +NORFOLK +What's the cause? + +Chamberlain +It seems the marriage with his brother's wife +Has crept too near his conscience. + +SUFFOLK +No, his conscience +Has crept too near another lady. + +NORFOLK +'Tis so: +This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: +That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, +Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. + +SUFFOLK +Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. + +NORFOLK +How holily he works in all his business! +And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league +Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, +He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters +Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, +Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: +And out of all these to restore the king, +He counsels a divorce; a loss of her +That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years +About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; +Of her that loves him with that excellence +That angels love good men with; even of her +That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, +Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? + +Chamberlain +Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true +These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, +And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare +Look into these affairs see this main end, +The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open +The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon +This bold bad man. + +SUFFOLK +And free us from his slavery. + +NORFOLK +We had need pray, +And heartily, for our deliverance; +Or this imperious man will work us all +From princes into pages: all men's honours +Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd +Into what pitch he please. + +SUFFOLK +For me, my lords, +I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: +As I am made without him, so I'll stand, +If the king please; his curses and his blessings +Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. +I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him +To him that made him proud, the pope. + +NORFOLK +Let's in; +And with some other business put the king +From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him: +My lord, you'll bear us company? + +Chamberlain +Excuse me; +The king has sent me otherwhere: besides, +You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: +Health to your lordships. + +NORFOLK +Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. + +Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively + +SUFFOLK +How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, ha? + +NORFOLK +Pray God he be not angry. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves +Into my private meditations? +Who am I? ha? + +NORFOLK +A gracious king that pardons all offences +Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way +Is business of estate; in which we come +To know your royal pleasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye are too bold: +Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: +Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a commission + +Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, +The quiet of my wounded conscience; +Thou art a cure fit for a king. + +To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +You're welcome, +Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: +Use us and it. + +To CARDINAL WOLSEY + +My good lord, have great care +I be not found a talker. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, you cannot. +I would your grace would give us but an hour +Of private conference. + +KING HENRY VIII +[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] +We are busy; go. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] +This priest has no pride in him? + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of: +I would not be so sick though for his place: +But this cannot continue. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do, +I'll venture one have-at-him. + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] I another. + +Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom +Above all princes, in committing freely +Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: +Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? +The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her, +Must now confess, if they have any goodness, +The trial just and noble. All the clerks, +I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms +Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, +Invited by your noble self, hath sent +One general tongue unto us, this good man, +This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; +Whom once more I present unto your highness. + +KING HENRY VIII +And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, +And thank the holy conclave for their loves: +They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, +You are so noble. To your highness' hand +I tender my commission; by whose virtue, +The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord +Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant +In the unpartial judging of this business. + +KING HENRY VIII +Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted +Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I know your majesty has always loved her +So dear in heart, not to deny her that +A woman of less place might ask by law: +Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour +To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, +Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: +I find him a fit fellow. + +Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY + +Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand much joy and +favour to you; +You are the king's now. + +GARDINER +[Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY] +But to be commanded +For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. + +KING HENRY VIII +Come hither, Gardiner. + +Walks and whispers + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace +In this man's place before him? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, he was. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Was he not held a learned man? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, surely. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then +Even of yourself, lord cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +How! of me? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +They will not stick to say you envied him, +And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, +Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him, +That he ran mad and died. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven's peace be with him! +That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers +There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; +For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, +If I command him, follows my appointment: +I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, +We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. + +KING HENRY VIII +Deliver this with modesty to the queen. + +Exit GARDINER + +The most convenient place that I can think of +For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars; +There ye shall meet about this weighty business. +My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, +Would it not grieve an able man to leave +So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! +O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments. + +Enter ANNE and an Old Lady +ANNE +Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches: +His highness having lived so long with her, and she +So good a lady that no tongue could ever +Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life, +She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after +So many courses of the sun enthroned, +Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which +To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than +'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process, +To give her the avaunt! it is a pity +Would move a monster. + +Old Lady +Hearts of most hard temper +Melt and lament for her. + +ANNE +O, God's will! much better +She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal, +Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce +It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging +As soul and body's severing. + +Old Lady +Alas, poor lady! +She's a stranger now again. + +ANNE +So much the more +Must pity drop upon her. Verily, +I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, +And range with humble livers in content, +Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, +And wear a golden sorrow. + +Old Lady +Our content +Is our best having. + +ANNE +By my troth and maidenhead, +I would not be a queen. + +Old Lady +Beshrew me, I would, +And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, +For all this spice of your hypocrisy: +You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, +Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet +Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; +Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, +Saving your mincing, the capacity +Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, +If you might please to stretch it. + +ANNE +Nay, good troth. + +Old Lady +Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen? + +ANNE +No, not for all the riches under heaven. +Old Lady: 'Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would hire me, +Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you, +What think you of a duchess? have you limbs +To bear that load of title? + +ANNE +No, in truth. + +Old Lady +Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; +I would not be a young count in your way, +For more than blushing comes to: if your back +Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak +Ever to get a boy. + +ANNE +How you do talk! +I swear again, I would not be a queen +For all the world. + +Old Lady +In faith, for little England +You'ld venture an emballing: I myself +Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd +No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here? + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know +The secret of your conference? + +ANNE +My good lord, +Not your demand; it values not your asking: +Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. + +Chamberlain +It was a gentle business, and becoming +The action of good women: there is hope +All will be well. + +ANNE +Now, I pray God, amen! + +Chamberlain +You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings +Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, +Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's +Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty +Commends his good opinion of you, and +Does purpose honour to you no less flowing +Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title +A thousand pound a year, annual support, +Out of his grace he adds. + +ANNE +I do not know +What kind of my obedience I should tender; +More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers +Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes +More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes +Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, +Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, +As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; +Whose health and royalty I pray for. + +Chamberlain +Lady, +I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit +The king hath of you. + +Aside + +I have perused her well; +Beauty and honour in her are so mingled +That they have caught the king: and who knows yet +But from this lady may proceed a gem +To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king, +And say I spoke with you. + +Exit Chamberlain + +ANNE +My honour'd lord. + +Old Lady +Why, this it is; see, see! +I have been begging sixteen years in court, +Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could +Come pat betwixt too early and too late +For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! +A very fresh-fish here--fie, fie, fie upon +This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up +Before you open it. + +ANNE +This is strange to me. + +Old Lady +How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. +There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, +That would not be a queen, that would she not, +For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it? + +ANNE +Come, you are pleasant. + +Old Lady +With your theme, I could +O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke! +A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! +No other obligation! By my life, +That promises moe thousands: honour's train +Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time +I know your back will bear a duchess: say, +Are you not stronger than you were? + +ANNE +Good lady, +Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, +And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, +If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me, +To think what follows. +The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful +In our long absence: pray, do not deliver +What here you've heard to her. + +Old Lady +What do you think me? + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. + +Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone; after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Whilst our commission from Rome is read, +Let silence be commanded. + +KING HENRY VIII +What's the need? +It hath already publicly been read, +And on all sides the authority allow'd; +You may, then, spare that time. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be't so. Proceed. + +Scribe +Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Henry King of England, & c. + +KING HENRY VIII +Here. + +Scribe +Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, & c. + +QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, I desire you do me right and justice; +And to bestow your pity on me: for +I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, +Born out of your dominions; having here +No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance +Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, +In what have I offended you? what cause +Hath my behavior given to your displeasure, +That thus you should proceed to put me off, +And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, +I have been to you a true and humble wife, +At all times to your will conformable; +Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, +Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry +As I saw it inclined: when was the hour +I ever contradicted your desire, +Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends +Have I not strove to love, although I knew +He were mine enemy? what friend of mine +That had to him derived your anger, did I +Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice +He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind +That I have been your wife, in this obedience, +Upward of twenty years, and have been blest +With many children by you: if, in the course +And process of this time, you can report, +And prove it too, against mine honour aught, +My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, +Against your sacred person, in God's name, +Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt +Shut door upon me, and so give me up +To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir, +The king, your father, was reputed for +A prince most prudent, of an excellent +And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, +My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one +The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many +A year before: it is not to be question'd +That they had gather'd a wise council to them +Of every realm, that did debate this business, +Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly +Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may +Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel +I will implore: if not, i' the name of God, +Your pleasure be fulfill'd! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You have here, lady, +And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men +Of singular integrity and learning, +Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled +To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless +That longer you desire the court; as well +For your own quiet, as to rectify +What is unsettled in the king. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +His grace +Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, +It's fit this royal session do proceed; +And that, without delay, their arguments +Be now produced and heard. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Lord cardinal, +To you I speak. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your pleasure, madam? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, +I am about to weep; but, thinking that +We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain +The daughter of a king, my drops of tears +I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be patient yet. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I will, when you are humble; nay, before, +Or God will punish me. I do believe, +Induced by potent circumstances, that +You are mine enemy, and make my challenge +You shall not be my judge: for it is you +Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me; +Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, +I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul +Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more, +I hold my most malicious foe, and think not +At all a friend to truth. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I do profess +You speak not like yourself; who ever yet +Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects +Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom +O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong: +I have no spleen against you; nor injustice +For you or any: how far I have proceeded, +Or how far further shall, is warranted +By a commission from the consistory, +Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me +That I have blown this coal: I do deny it: +The king is present: if it be known to him +That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, +And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much +As you have done my truth. If he know +That I am free of your report, he knows +I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him +It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to +Remove these thoughts from you: the which before +His highness shall speak in, I do beseech +You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking +And to say so no more. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, my lord, +I am a simple woman, much too weak +To oppose your cunning. You're meek and +humble-mouth'd; +You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, +With meekness and humility; but your heart +Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. +You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, +Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted +Where powers are your retainers, and your words, +Domestics to you, serve your will as't please +Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, +You tender more your person's honour than +Your high profession spiritual: that again +I do refuse you for my judge; and here, +Before you all, appeal unto the pope, +To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, +And to be judged by him. + +She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +The queen is obstinate, +Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and +Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. +She's going away. + +KING HENRY VIII +Call her again. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +GRIFFITH +Madam, you are call'd back. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: +When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help, +They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on: +I will not tarry; no, nor ever more +Upon this business my appearance make +In any of their courts. + +Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants + +KING HENRY VIII +Go thy ways, Kate: +That man i' the world who shall report he has +A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, +For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, +If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, +Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, +Obeying in commanding, and thy parts +Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, +The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born; +And, like her true nobility, she has +Carried herself towards me. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Most gracious sir, +In humblest manner I require your highness, +That it shall please you to declare, in hearing +Of all these ears,--for where I am robb'd and bound, +There must I be unloosed, although not there +At once and fully satisfied,--whether ever I +Did broach this business to your highness; or +Laid any scruple in your way, which might +Induce you to the question on't? or ever +Have to you, but with thanks to God for such +A royal lady, spake one the least word that might +Be to the prejudice of her present state, +Or touch of her good person? + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord cardinal, +I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, +I free you from't. You are not to be taught +That you have many enemies, that know not +Why they are so, but, like to village-curs, +Bark when their fellows do: by some of these +The queen is put in anger. You're excused: +But will you be more justified? You ever +Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired +It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, +The passages made toward it: on my honour, +I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, +And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't, +I will be bold with time and your attention: +Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't: +My conscience first received a tenderness, +Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd +By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador; +Who had been hither sent on the debating +A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and +Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business, +Ere a determinate resolution, he, +I mean the bishop, did require a respite; +Wherein he might the king his lord advertise +Whether our daughter were legitimate, +Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, +Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook +The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, +Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble +The region of my breast; which forced such way, +That many mazed considerings did throng +And press'd in with this caution. First, methought +I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had +Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, +If it conceived a male child by me, should +Do no more offices of life to't than +The grave does to the dead; for her male issue +Or died where they were made, or shortly after +This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought, +This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, +Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not +Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that +I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in +By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me +Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in +The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer +Toward this remedy, whereupon we are +Now present here together: that's to say, +I meant to rectify my conscience,--which +I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,-- +By all the reverend fathers of the land +And doctors learn'd: first I began in private +With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember +How under my oppression I did reek, +When I first moved you. + +LINCOLN +Very well, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say +How far you satisfied me. + +LINCOLN +So please your highness, +The question did at first so stagger me, +Bearing a state of mighty moment in't +And consequence of dread, that I committed +The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt; +And did entreat your highness to this course +Which you are running here. + +KING HENRY VIII +I then moved you, +My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave +To make this present summons: unsolicited +I left no reverend person in this court; +But by particular consent proceeded +Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on: +For no dislike i' the world against the person +Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points +Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward: +Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life +And kingly dignity, we are contented +To wear our mortal state to come with her, +Katharine our queen, before the primest creature +That's paragon'd o' the world. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +So please your highness, +The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness +That we adjourn this court till further day: +Meanwhile must be an earnest motion +Made to the queen, to call back her appeal +She intends unto his holiness. + +KING HENRY VIII +[Aside] I may perceive +These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor +This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. +My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, +Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, +My comfort comes along. Break up the court: +I say, set on. + +Exeunt in manner as they entered + + +ACT III +SCENE I. London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments. + +Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work +QUEEN KATHARINE +Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; +Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. + +SONG + +Orpheus with his lute made trees, +And the mountain tops that freeze, +Bow themselves when he did sing: +To his music plants and flowers +Ever sprung; as sun and showers +There had made a lasting spring. +Every thing that heard him play, +Even the billows of the sea, +Hung their heads, and then lay by. +In sweet music is such art, +Killing care and grief of heart +Fall asleep, or hearing, die. + +Enter a Gentleman + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How now! + +Gentleman +An't please your grace, the two great cardinals +Wait in the presence. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would they speak with me? + +Gentleman +They will'd me say so, madam. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Pray their graces +To come near. + +Exit Gentleman + +What can be their business +With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? +I do not like their coming. Now I think on't, +They should be good men; their affairs as righteous: +But all hoods make not monks. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Peace to your highness! + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Your graces find me here part of a housewife, +I would be all, against the worst may happen. +What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +May it please you noble madam, to withdraw +Into your private chamber, we shall give you +The full cause of our coming. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Speak it here: +There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, +Deserves a corner: would all other women +Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! +My lords, I care not, so much I am happy +Above a number, if my actions +Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em, +Envy and base opinion set against 'em, +I know my life so even. If your business +Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, +Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina +serenissima,-- + +QUEEN KATHARINE +O, good my lord, no Latin; +I am not such a truant since my coming, +As not to know the language I have lived in: +A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, +suspicious; +Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, +If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; +Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal, +The willing'st sin I ever yet committed +May be absolved in English. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Noble lady, +I am sorry my integrity should breed, +And service to his majesty and you, +So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. +We come not by the way of accusation, +To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, +Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, +You have too much, good lady; but to know +How you stand minded in the weighty difference +Between the king and you; and to deliver, +Like free and honest men, our just opinions +And comforts to your cause. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Most honour'd madam, +My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, +Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace, +Forgetting, like a good man your late censure +Both of his truth and him, which was too far, +Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, +His service and his counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +[Aside] To betray me.-- +My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; +Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so! +But how to make ye suddenly an answer, +In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,-- +More near my life, I fear,--with my weak wit, +And to such men of gravity and learning, +In truth, I know not. I was set at work +Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking +Either for such men or such business. +For her sake that I have been,--for I feel +The last fit of my greatness,--good your graces, +Let me have time and counsel for my cause: +Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears: +Your hopes and friends are infinite. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +In England +But little for my profit: can you think, lords, +That any Englishman dare give me counsel? +Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure, +Though he be grown so desperate to be honest, +And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, +They that must weigh out my afflictions, +They that my trust must grow to, live not here: +They are, as all my other comforts, far hence +In mine own country, lords. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +I would your grace +Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How, sir? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Put your main cause into the king's protection; +He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much +Both for your honour better and your cause; +For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye, +You'll part away disgraced. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +He tells you rightly. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye tell me what ye wish for both,--my ruin: +Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! +Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge +That no king can corrupt. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your rage mistakes us. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye, +Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; +But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye: +Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? +The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, +A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? +I will not wish ye half my miseries; +I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye; +Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once +The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, this is a mere distraction; +You turn the good we offer into envy. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye +And all such false professors! would you have me-- +If you have any justice, any pity; +If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-- +Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? +Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, +His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, +And all the fellowship I hold now with him +Is only my obedience. What can happen +To me above this wretchedness? all your studies +Make me a curse like this. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your fears are worse. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself, +Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one? +A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, +Never yet branded with suspicion? +Have I with all my full affections +Still met the king? loved him next heaven? +obey'd him? +Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? +Almost forgot my prayers to content him? +And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. +Bring me a constant woman to her husband, +One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; +And to that woman, when she has done most, +Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, +To give up willingly that noble title +Your master wed me to: nothing but death +Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, hear me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would I had never trod this English earth, +Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! +Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. +What will become of me now, wretched lady! +I am the most unhappy woman living. +Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes! +Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, +No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me; +Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily, +That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, +I'll hang my head and perish. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +If your grace +Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, +You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady, +Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places, +The way of our profession is against it: +We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. +For goodness' sake, consider what you do; +How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly +Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. +The hearts of princes kiss obedience, +So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits +They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. +I know you have a gentle, noble temper, +A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us +Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues +With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, +As yours was put into you, ever casts +Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; +Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please +To trust us in your business, we are ready +To use our utmost studies in your service. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me, +If I have used myself unmannerly; +You know I am a woman, lacking wit +To make a seemly answer to such persons. +Pray, do my service to his majesty: +He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers +While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, +Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs, +That little thought, when she set footing here, +She should have bought her dignities so dear. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment. + +Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain +NORFOLK +If you will now unite in your complaints, +And force them with a constancy, the cardinal +Cannot stand under them: if you omit +The offer of this time, I cannot promise +But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, +With these you bear already. + +SURREY +I am joyful +To meet the least occasion that may give me +Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, +To be revenged on him. + +SUFFOLK +Which of the peers +Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least +Strangely neglected? when did he regard +The stamp of nobleness in any person +Out of himself? + +Chamberlain +My lords, you speak your pleasures: +What he deserves of you and me I know; +What we can do to him, though now the time +Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot +Bar his access to the king, never attempt +Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft +Over the king in's tongue. + +NORFOLK +O, fear him not; +His spell in that is out: the king hath found +Matter against him that for ever mars +The honey of his language. No, he's settled, +Not to come off, in his displeasure. + +SURREY +Sir, +I should be glad to hear such news as this +Once every hour. + +NORFOLK +Believe it, this is true: +In the divorce his contrary proceedings +Are all unfolded wherein he appears +As I would wish mine enemy. + +SURREY +How came +His practises to light? + +SUFFOLK +Most strangely. + +SURREY +O, how, how? + +SUFFOLK +The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, +And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read, +How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness +To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if +It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive +My king is tangled in affection to +A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.' + +SURREY +Has the king this? + +SUFFOLK +Believe it. + +SURREY +Will this work? + +Chamberlain +The king in this perceives him, how he coasts +And hedges his own way. But in this point +All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic +After his patient's death: the king already +Hath married the fair lady. + +SURREY +Would he had! + +SUFFOLK +May you be happy in your wish, my lord +For, I profess, you have it. + +SURREY +Now, all my joy +Trace the conjunction! + +SUFFOLK +My amen to't! + +NORFOLK +All men's! + +SUFFOLK +There's order given for her coronation: +Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left +To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, +She is a gallant creature, and complete +In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her +Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall +In it be memorised. + +SURREY +But, will the king +Digest this letter of the cardinal's? +The Lord forbid! + +NORFOLK +Marry, amen! + +SUFFOLK +No, no; +There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose +Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius +Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; +Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and +Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, +To second all his plot. I do assure you +The king cried Ha! at this. + +Chamberlain +Now, God incense him, +And let him cry Ha! louder! + +NORFOLK +But, my lord, +When returns Cranmer? + +SUFFOLK +He is return'd in his opinions; which +Have satisfied the king for his divorce, +Together with all famous colleges +Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, +His second marriage shall be publish'd, and +Her coronation. Katharine no more +Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager +And widow to Prince Arthur. + +NORFOLK +This same Cranmer's +A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain +In the king's business. + +SUFFOLK +He has; and we shall see him +For it an archbishop. + +NORFOLK +So I hear. + +SUFFOLK +'Tis so. +The cardinal! + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL + +NORFOLK +Observe, observe, he's moody. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The packet, Cromwell. +Gave't you the king? + +CROMWELL +To his own hand, in's bedchamber. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? + +CROMWELL +Presently +He did unseal them: and the first he view'd, +He did it with a serious mind; a heed +Was in his countenance. You he bade +Attend him here this morning. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he ready +To come abroad? + +CROMWELL +I think, by this he is. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Leave me awhile. + +Exit CROMWELL + +Aside + +It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, +The French king's sister: he shall marry her. +Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him: +There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen! +No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish +To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke! + +NORFOLK +He's discontented. + +SUFFOLK +May be, he hears the king +Does whet his anger to him. + +SURREY +Sharp enough, +Lord, for thy justice! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, +a knight's daughter, +To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen! +This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; +Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous +And well deserving? yet I know her for +A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to +Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of +Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up +An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one +Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, +And is his oracle. + +NORFOLK +He is vex'd at something. + +SURREY +I would 'twere something that would fret the string, +The master-cord on's heart! + +Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL + +SUFFOLK +The king, the king! + +KING HENRY VIII +What piles of wealth hath he accumulated +To his own portion! and what expense by the hour +Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift, +Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, +Saw you the cardinal? + +NORFOLK +My lord, we have +Stood here observing him: some strange commotion +Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; +Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, +Then lays his finger on his temple, straight +Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, +Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts +His eye against the moon: in most strange postures +We have seen him set himself. + +KING HENRY VIII +It may well be; +There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning +Papers of state he sent me to peruse, +As I required: and wot you what I found +There,--on my conscience, put unwittingly? +Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing; +The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, +Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which +I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks +Possession of a subject. + +NORFOLK +It's heaven's will: +Some spirit put this paper in the packet, +To bless your eye withal. + +KING HENRY VIII +If we did think +His contemplation were above the earth, +And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still +Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid +His thinkings are below the moon, not worth +His serious considering. + +King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL, who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven forgive me! +Ever God bless your highness! + +KING HENRY VIII +Good my lord, +You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory +Of your best graces in your mind; the which +You were now running o'er: you have scarce time +To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span +To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that +I deem you an ill husband, and am glad +To have you therein my companion. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, +For holy offices I have a time; a time +To think upon the part of business which +I bear i' the state; and nature does require +Her times of preservation, which perforce +I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, +Must give my tendence to. + +KING HENRY VIII +You have said well. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And ever may your highness yoke together, +As I will lend you cause, my doing well +With my well saying! + +KING HENRY VIII +'Tis well said again; +And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: +And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: +His said he did; and with his deed did crown +His word upon you. Since I had my office, +I have kept you next my heart; have not alone +Employ'd you where high profits might come home, +But pared my present havings, to bestow +My bounties upon you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] What should this mean? + +SURREY +[Aside] The Lord increase this business! + +KING HENRY VIII +Have I not made you, +The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, +If what I now pronounce you have found true: +And, if you may confess it, say withal, +If you are bound to us or no. What say you? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, +Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could +My studied purposes requite; which went +Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours +Have ever come too short of my desires, +Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends +Have been mine so that evermore they pointed +To the good of your most sacred person and +The profit of the state. For your great graces +Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I +Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, +My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, +Which ever has and ever shall be growing, +Till death, that winter, kill it. + +The Life and Death of King John +Shakespeare homepage | King John | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. KING JOHN'S palace. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON +KING JOHN +Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us? + +CHATILLON +Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France +In my behavior to the majesty, +The borrow'd majesty, of England here. + +QUEEN ELINOR +A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!' + +KING JOHN +Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. + +CHATILLON +Philip of France, in right and true behalf +Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, +Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim +To this fair island and the territories, +To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +Desiring thee to lay aside the sword +Which sways usurpingly these several titles, +And put these same into young Arthur's hand, +Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. + +KING JOHN +What follows if we disallow of this? + +CHATILLON +The proud control of fierce and bloody war, +To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. + +KING JOHN +Here have we war for war and blood for blood, +Controlment for controlment: so answer France. + +CHATILLON +Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, +The farthest limit of my embassy. + +KING JOHN +Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: +Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; +For ere thou canst report I will be there, +The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: +So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath +And sullen presage of your own decay. +An honourable conduct let him have: +Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon. + +Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE + +QUEEN ELINOR +What now, my son! have I not ever said +How that ambitious Constance would not cease +Till she had kindled France and all the world, +Upon the right and party of her son? +This might have been prevented and made whole +With very easy arguments of love, +Which now the manage of two kingdoms must +With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + +KING JOHN +Our strong possession and our right for us. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Your strong possession much more than your right, +Or else it must go wrong with you and me: +So much my conscience whispers in your ear, +Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. + +Enter a Sheriff + +ESSEX +My liege, here is the strangest controversy +Come from country to be judged by you, +That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men? + +KING JOHN +Let them approach. +Our abbeys and our priories shall pay +This expedition's charge. + +Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD + +What men are you? + +BASTARD +Your faithful subject I, a gentleman +Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son, +As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, +A soldier, by the honour-giving hand +Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field. + +KING JOHN +What art thou? + +ROBERT +The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. + +KING JOHN +Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? +You came not of one mother then, it seems. + +BASTARD +Most certain of one mother, mighty king; +That is well known; and, as I think, one father: +But for the certain knowledge of that truth +I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother: +Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother +And wound her honour with this diffidence. + +BASTARD +I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; +That is my brother's plea and none of mine; +The which if he can prove, a' pops me out +At least from fair five hundred pound a year: +Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land! + +KING JOHN +A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born, +Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? + +BASTARD +I know not why, except to get the land. +But once he slander'd me with bastardy: +But whether I be as true begot or no, +That still I lay upon my mother's head, +But that I am as well begot, my liege,-- +Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-- +Compare our faces and be judge yourself. +If old sir Robert did beget us both +And were our father and this son like him, +O old sir Robert, father, on my knee +I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee! + +KING JOHN +Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! + +QUEEN ELINOR +He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face; +The accent of his tongue affecteth him. +Do you not read some tokens of my son +In the large composition of this man? + +KING JOHN +Mine eye hath well examined his parts +And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, +What doth move you to claim your brother's land? + +BASTARD +Because he hath a half-face, like my father. +With half that face would he have all my land: +A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year! + +ROBERT +My gracious liege, when that my father lived, +Your brother did employ my father much,-- + +BASTARD +Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: +Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother. + +ROBERT +And once dispatch'd him in an embassy +To Germany, there with the emperor +To treat of high affairs touching that time. +The advantage of his absence took the king +And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; +Where how he did prevail I shame to speak, +But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores +Between my father and my mother lay, +As I have heard my father speak himself, +When this same lusty gentleman was got. +Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd +His lands to me, and took it on his death +That this my mother's son was none of his; +And if he were, he came into the world +Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. +Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, +My father's land, as was my father's will. + +KING JOHN +Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; +Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him, +And if she did play false, the fault was hers; +Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands +That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, +Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, +Had of your father claim'd this son for his? +In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept +This calf bred from his cow from all the world; +In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's, +My brother might not claim him; nor your father, +Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes; +My mother's son did get your father's heir; +Your father's heir must have your father's land. + +ROBERT +Shall then my father's will be of no force +To dispossess that child which is not his? + +BASTARD +Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, +Than was his will to get me, as I think. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge +And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, +Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion, +Lord of thy presence and no land beside? + +BASTARD +Madam, an if my brother had my shape, +And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him; +And if my legs were two such riding-rods, +My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin +That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose +Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!' +And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, +Would I might never stir from off this place, +I would give it every foot to have this face; +I would not be sir Nob in any case. + +QUEEN ELINOR +I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, +Bequeath thy land to him and follow me? +I am a soldier and now bound to France. + +BASTARD +Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance. +Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, +Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear. +Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Nay, I would have you go before me thither. + +BASTARD +Our country manners give our betters way. + +KING JOHN +What is thy name? + +BASTARD +Philip, my liege, so is my name begun, +Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son. + +KING JOHN +From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st: +Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great, +Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet. + +BASTARD +Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand: +My father gave me honour, yours gave land. +Now blessed by the hour, by night or day, +When I was got, sir Robert was away! + +QUEEN ELINOR +The very spirit of Plantagenet! +I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. + +BASTARD +Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though? +Something about, a little from the right, +In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: +Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, +And have is have, however men do catch: +Near or far off, well won is still well shot, +And I am I, howe'er I was begot. + +KING JOHN +Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire; +A landless knight makes thee a landed squire. +Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed +For France, for France, for it is more than need. + +BASTARD +Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee! +For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. + +Exeunt all but BASTARD + +A foot of honour better than I was; +But many a many foot of land the worse. +Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. +'Good den, sir Richard!'--'God-a-mercy, fellow!'-- +And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; +For new-made honour doth forget men's names; +'Tis too respective and too sociable +For your conversion. Now your traveller, +He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, +And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, +Why then I suck my teeth and catechise +My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,' +Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, +'I shall beseech you'--that is question now; +And then comes answer like an Absey book: +'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command; +At your employment; at your service, sir;' +'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:' +And so, ere answer knows what question would, +Saving in dialogue of compliment, +And talking of the Alps and Apennines, +The Pyrenean and the river Po, +It draws toward supper in conclusion so. +But this is worshipful society +And fits the mounting spirit like myself, +For he is but a bastard to the time +That doth not smack of observation; +And so am I, whether I smack or no; +And not alone in habit and device, +Exterior form, outward accoutrement, +But from the inward motion to deliver +Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: +Which, though I will not practise to deceive, +Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; +For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. +But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? +What woman-post is this? hath she no husband +That will take pains to blow a horn before her? + +Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY + +O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! +What brings you here to court so hastily? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he, +That holds in chase mine honour up and down? + +BASTARD +My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son? +Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? +Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy, +Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert? +He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou. + +BASTARD +James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? + +GURNEY +Good leave, good Philip. + +BASTARD +Philip! sparrow: James, +There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more. + +Exit GURNEY + +Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son: +Sir Robert might have eat his part in me +Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast: +Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess, +Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it: +We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother, +To whom am I beholding for these limbs? +Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, +That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? +What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? + +BASTARD +Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. +What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder. +But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son; +I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land; +Legitimation, name and all is gone: +Then, good my mother, let me know my father; +Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? + +BASTARD +As faithfully as I deny the devil. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father: +By long and vehement suit I was seduced +To make room for him in my husband's bed: +Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! +Thou art the issue of my dear offence, +Which was so strongly urged past my defence. + +BASTARD +Now, by this light, were I to get again, +Madam, I would not wish a better father. +Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, +And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: +Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, +Subjected tribute to commanding love, +Against whose fury and unmatched force +The aweless lion could not wage the fight, +Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. +He that perforce robs lions of their hearts +May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, +With all my heart I thank thee for my father! +Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well +When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. +Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin; +And they shall say, when Richard me begot, +If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: +Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. France. Before Angiers. + +Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side: on the other KING PHILIP and his power; LEWIS, ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants +LEWIS +Before Angiers well met, brave Austria. +Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, +Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart +And fought the holy wars in Palestine, +By this brave duke came early to his grave: +And for amends to his posterity, +At our importance hither is he come, +To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, +And to rebuke the usurpation +Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: +Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. + +ARTHUR +God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death +The rather that you give his offspring life, +Shadowing their right under your wings of war: +I give you welcome with a powerless hand, +But with a heart full of unstained love: +Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. + +LEWIS +A noble boy! Who would not do thee right? + +AUSTRIA +Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, +As seal to this indenture of my love, +That to my home I will no more return, +Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, +Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, +Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides +And coops from other lands her islanders, +Even till that England, hedged in with the main, +That water-walled bulwark, still secure +And confident from foreign purposes, +Even till that utmost corner of the west +Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, +Will I not think of home, but follow arms. + +CONSTANCE +O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, +Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength +To make a more requital to your love! + +AUSTRIA +The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords +In such a just and charitable war. + +KING PHILIP +Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent +Against the brows of this resisting town. +Call for our chiefest men of discipline, +To cull the plots of best advantages: +We'll lay before this town our royal bones, +Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, +But we will make it subject to this boy. + +CONSTANCE +Stay for an answer to your embassy, +Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: +My Lord Chatillon may from England bring, +That right in peace which here we urge in war, +And then we shall repent each drop of blood +That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. + +Enter CHATILLON + +KING PHILIP +A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, +Our messenger Chatillon is arrived! +What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; +We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak. + +CHATILLON +Then turn your forces from this paltry siege +And stir them up against a mightier task. +England, impatient of your just demands, +Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, +Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time +To land his legions all as soon as I; +His marches are expedient to this town, +His forces strong, his soldiers confident. +With him along is come the mother-queen, +An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; +With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain; +With them a bastard of the king's deceased, +And all the unsettled humours of the land, +Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, +With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, +Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, +Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, +To make hazard of new fortunes here: +In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits +Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er +Did nearer float upon the swelling tide, +To do offence and scath in Christendom. + +Drum beats + +The interruption of their churlish drums +Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, +To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. + +KING PHILIP +How much unlook'd for is this expedition! + +AUSTRIA +By how much unexpected, by so much +We must awake endavour for defence; +For courage mounteth with occasion: +Let them be welcome then: we are prepared. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, Lords, and forces + +KING JOHN +Peace be to France, if France in peace permit +Our just and lineal entrance to our own; +If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, +Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct +Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven. + +KING PHILIP +Peace be to England, if that war return +From France to England, there to live in peace. +England we love; and for that England's sake +With burden of our armour here we sweat. +This toil of ours should be a work of thine; +But thou from loving England art so far, +That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king +Cut off the sequence of posterity, +Out-faced infant state and done a rape +Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. +Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; +These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his: +This little abstract doth contain that large +Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time +Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. +That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, +And this his son; England was Geffrey's right +And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God +How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, +When living blood doth in these temples beat, +Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? + +KING JOHN +From whom hast thou this great commission, France, +To draw my answer from thy articles? + +KING PHILIP +From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts +In any breast of strong authority, +To look into the blots and stains of right: +That judge hath made me guardian to this boy: +Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong +And by whose help I mean to chastise it. + +KING JOHN +Alack, thou dost usurp authority. + +KING PHILIP +Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + +CONSTANCE +Let me make answer; thy usurping son. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king, +That thou mayst be a queen, and cheque the world! + +CONSTANCE +My bed was ever to thy son as true +As thine was to thy husband; and this boy +Liker in feature to his father Geffrey +Than thou and John in manners; being as like +As rain to water, or devil to his dam. +My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think +His father never was so true begot: +It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + +QUEEN ELINOR +There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + +CONSTANCE +There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! + +BASTARD +Hear the crier. + +AUSTRIA +What the devil art thou? + +BASTARD +One that will play the devil, sir, with you, +An a' may catch your hide and you alone: +You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, +Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard; +I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; +Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. + +BLANCH +O, well did he become that lion's robe +That did disrobe the lion of that robe! + +BASTARD +It lies as sightly on the back of him +As great Alcides' shows upon an ass: +But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back, +Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. + +AUSTRIA +What craker is this same that deafs our ears +With this abundance of superfluous breath? + +KING PHILIP +Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. + +LEWIS +Women and fools, break off your conference. +King John, this is the very sum of all; +England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +In right of Arthur do I claim of thee: +Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? + +KING JOHN +My life as soon: I do defy thee, France. +Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand; +And out of my dear love I'll give thee more +Than e'er the coward hand of France can win: +Submit thee, boy. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Come to thy grandam, child. + +CONSTANCE +Do, child, go to it grandam, child: +Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will +Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig: +There's a good grandam. + +ARTHUR +Good my mother, peace! +I would that I were low laid in my grave: +I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + +QUEEN ELINOR +His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + +CONSTANCE +Now shame upon you, whether she does or no! +His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, +Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, +Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; +Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed +To do him justice and revenge on you. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! + +CONSTANCE +Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth! +Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp +The dominations, royalties and rights +Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eld'st son's son, +Infortunate in nothing but in thee: +Thy sins are visited in this poor child; +The canon of the law is laid on him, +Being but the second generation +Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. + +KING JOHN +Bedlam, have done. + +CONSTANCE +I have but this to say, +That he is not only plagued for her sin, +But God hath made her sin and her the plague +On this removed issue, plague for her +And with her plague; her sin his injury, +Her injury the beadle to her sin, +All punish'd in the person of this child, +And all for her; a plague upon her! + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou unadvised scold, I can produce +A will that bars the title of thy son. + +CONSTANCE +Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will: +A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will! + +KING PHILIP +Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate: +It ill beseems this presence to cry aim +To these ill-tuned repetitions. +Some trumpet summon hither to the walls +These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak +Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. + +Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls + +First Citizen +Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls? + +KING PHILIP +'Tis France, for England. + +KING JOHN +England, for itself. +You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-- + +KING PHILIP +You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects, +Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle-- + +KING JOHN +For our advantage; therefore hear us first. +These flags of France, that are advanced here +Before the eye and prospect of your town, +Have hither march'd to your endamagement: +The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, +And ready mounted are they to spit forth +Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls: +All preparation for a bloody siege +All merciless proceeding by these French +Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates; +And but for our approach those sleeping stones, +That as a waist doth girdle you about, +By the compulsion of their ordinance +By this time from their fixed beds of lime +Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made +For bloody power to rush upon your peace. +But on the sight of us your lawful king, +Who painfully with much expedient march +Have brought a countercheque before your gates, +To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks, +Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle; +And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, +To make a shaking fever in your walls, +They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke, +To make a faithless error in your ears: +Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, +And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits, +Forwearied in this action of swift speed, +Crave harbourage within your city walls. + +KING PHILIP +When I have said, make answer to us both. +Lo, in this right hand, whose protection +Is most divinely vow'd upon the right +Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, +Son to the elder brother of this man, +And king o'er him and all that he enjoys: +For this down-trodden equity, we tread +In warlike march these greens before your town, +Being no further enemy to you +Than the constraint of hospitable zeal +In the relief of this oppressed child +Religiously provokes. Be pleased then +To pay that duty which you truly owe +To that owes it, namely this young prince: +And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, +Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up; +Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent +Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; +And with a blessed and unvex'd retire, +With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised, +We will bear home that lusty blood again +Which here we came to spout against your town, +And leave your children, wives and you in peace. +But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, +'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls +Can hide you from our messengers of war, +Though all these English and their discipline +Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. +Then tell us, shall your city call us lord, +In that behalf which we have challenged it? +Or shall we give the signal to our rage +And stalk in blood to our possession? + +First Citizen +In brief, we are the king of England's subjects: +For him, and in his right, we hold this town. + +KING JOHN +Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. + +First Citizen +That can we not; but he that proves the king, +To him will we prove loyal: till that time +Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. + +KING JOHN +Doth not the crown of England prove the king? +And if not that, I bring you witnesses, +Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,-- + +BASTARD +Bastards, and else. + +KING JOHN +To verify our title with their lives. + +KING PHILIP +As many and as well-born bloods as those,-- + +BASTARD +Some bastards too. + +KING PHILIP +Stand in his face to contradict his claim. + +First Citizen +Till you compound whose right is worthiest, +We for the worthiest hold the right from both. + +KING JOHN +Then God forgive the sin of all those souls +That to their everlasting residence, +Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, +In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king! + +KING PHILIP +Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms! + +BASTARD +Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since +Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, +Teach us some fence! + +To AUSTRIA + +Sirrah, were I at home, +At your den, sirrah, with your lioness +I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, +And make a monster of you. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! no more. + +BASTARD +O tremble, for you hear the lion roar. + +KING JOHN +Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth +In best appointment all our regiments. + +BASTARD +Speed then, to take advantage of the field. + +KING PHILIP +It shall be so; and at the other hill +Command the rest to stand. God and our right! + +Exeunt + +Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France, with trumpets, to the gates + +French Herald +You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, +And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, +Who by the hand of France this day hath made +Much work for tears in many an English mother, +Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; +Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, +Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth; +And victory, with little loss, doth play +Upon the dancing banners of the French, +Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, +To enter conquerors and to proclaim +Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours. + +Enter English Herald, with trumpet + +English Herald +Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells: +King John, your king and England's doth approach, +Commander of this hot malicious day: +Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, +Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; +There stuck no plume in any English crest +That is removed by a staff of France; +Our colours do return in those same hands +That did display them when we first march'd forth; +And, like a troop of jolly huntsmen, come +Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, +Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes: +Open your gates and gives the victors way. + +First Citizen +Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, +From first to last, the onset and retire +Of both your armies; whose equality +By our best eyes cannot be censured: +Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows; +Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: +Both are alike; and both alike we like. +One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, +We hold our town for neither, yet for both. + +Re-enter KING JOHN and KING PHILIP, with their powers, severally + +KING JOHN +France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? +Say, shall the current of our right run on? +Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, +Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell +With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, +Unless thou let his silver water keep +A peaceful progress to the ocean. + +KING PHILIP +England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood, +In this hot trial, more than we of France; +Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, +That sways the earth this climate overlooks, +Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, +We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, +Or add a royal number to the dead, +Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss +With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. + +BASTARD +Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, +When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! +O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; +The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; +And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men, +In undetermined differences of kings. +Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? +Cry, 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field, +You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits! +Then let confusion of one part confirm +The other's peace: till then, blows, blood and death! + +KING JOHN +Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? + +KING PHILIP +Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king? + +First Citizen +The king of England; when we know the king. + +KING PHILIP +Know him in us, that here hold up his right. + +KING JOHN +In us, that are our own great deputy +And bear possession of our person here, +Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. + +First Citizen +A greater power then we denies all this; +And till it be undoubted, we do lock +Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; +King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolved, +Be by some certain king purged and deposed. + +BASTARD +By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings, +And stand securely on their battlements, +As in a theatre, whence they gape and point +At your industrious scenes and acts of death. +Your royal presences be ruled by me: +Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, +Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend +Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: +By east and west let France and England mount +Their battering cannon charged to the mouths, +Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down +The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: +I'ld play incessantly upon these jades, +Even till unfenced desolation +Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. +That done, dissever your united strengths, +And part your mingled colours once again; +Turn face to face and bloody point to point; +Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth +Out of one side her happy minion, +To whom in favour she shall give the day, +And kiss him with a glorious victory. +How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? +Smacks it not something of the policy? + +KING JOHN +Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, +I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers +And lay this Angiers even to the ground; +Then after fight who shall be king of it? + +BASTARD +An if thou hast the mettle of a king, +Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, +Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, +As we will ours, against these saucy walls; +And when that we have dash'd them to the ground, +Why then defy each other and pell-mell +Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. + +KING PHILIP +Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? + +KING JOHN +We from the west will send destruction +Into this city's bosom. + +AUSTRIA +I from the north. + +KING PHILIP +Our thunder from the south +Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. + +BASTARD +O prudent discipline! From north to south: +Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: +I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away! + +First Citizen +Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay, +And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league; +Win you this city without stroke or wound; +Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, +That here come sacrifices for the field: +Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. + +KING JOHN +Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. + +First Citizen +That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, +Is niece to England: look upon the years +Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid: +If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, +Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? +If zealous love should go in search of virtue, +Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? +If love ambitious sought a match of birth, +Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch? +Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, +Is the young Dauphin every way complete: +If not complete of, say he is not she; +And she again wants nothing, to name want, +If want it be not that she is not he: +He is the half part of a blessed man, +Left to be finished by such as she; +And she a fair divided excellence, +Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. +O, two such silver currents, when they join, +Do glorify the banks that bound them in; +And two such shores to two such streams made one, +Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, +To these two princes, if you marry them. +This union shall do more than battery can +To our fast-closed gates; for at this match, +With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, +The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, +And give you entrance: but without this match, +The sea enraged is not half so deaf, +Lions more confident, mountains and rocks +More free from motion, no, not Death himself +In moral fury half so peremptory, +As we to keep this city. + +BASTARD +Here's a stay +That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death +Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, +That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas, +Talks as familiarly of roaring lions +As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! +What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? +He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce; +He gives the bastinado with his tongue: +Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his +But buffets better than a fist of France: +Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words +Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; +Give with our niece a dowry large enough: +For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie +Thy now unsured assurance to the crown, +That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe +The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. +I see a yielding in the looks of France; +Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls +Are capable of this ambition, +Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath +Of soft petitions, pity and remorse, +Cool and congeal again to what it was. + +First Citizen +Why answer not the double majesties +This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? + +KING PHILIP +Speak England first, that hath been forward first +To speak unto this city: what say you? + +KING JOHN +If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, +Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,' +Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: +For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, +And all that we upon this side the sea, +Except this city now by us besieged, +Find liable to our crown and dignity, +Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich +In titles, honours and promotions, +As she in beauty, education, blood, +Holds hand with any princess of the world. + +KING PHILIP +What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. + +LEWIS +I do, my lord; and in her eye I find +A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, +The shadow of myself form'd in her eye: +Which being but the shadow of your son, +Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow: +I do protest I never loved myself +Till now infixed I beheld myself +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. + +Whispers with BLANCH + +BASTARD +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! +Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! +And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy +Himself love's traitor: this is pity now, +That hang'd and drawn and quartered, there should be +In such a love so vile a lout as he. + +BLANCH +My uncle's will in this respect is mine: +If he see aught in you that makes him like, +That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, +I can with ease translate it to my will; +Or if you will, to speak more properly, +I will enforce it easily to my love. +Further I will not flatter you, my lord, +That all I see in you is worthy love, +Than this; that nothing do I see in you, +Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, +That I can find should merit any hate. + +KING JOHN +What say these young ones? What say you my niece? + +BLANCH +That she is bound in honour still to do +What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. + +KING JOHN +Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady? + +LEWIS +Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; +For I do love her most unfeignedly. + +KING JOHN +Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, +Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, +With her to thee; and this addition more, +Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. +Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, +Command thy son and daughter to join hands. + +KING PHILIP +It likes us well; young princes, close your hands. + +AUSTRIA +And your lips too; for I am well assured +That I did so when I was first assured. + +KING PHILIP +Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, +Let in that amity which you have made; +For at Saint Mary's chapel presently +The rites of marriage shall be solemnized. +Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? +I know she is not, for this match made up +Her presence would have interrupted much: +Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows. + +LEWIS +She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. + +KING PHILIP +And, by my faith, this league that we have made +Will give her sadness very little cure. +Brother of England, how may we content +This widow lady? In her right we came; +Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way, +To our own vantage. + +KING JOHN +We will heal up all; +For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne +And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town +We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance; +Some speedy messenger bid her repair +To our solemnity: I trust we shall, +If not fill up the measure of her will, +Yet in some measure satisfy her so +That we shall stop her exclamation. +Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, +To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp. + +Exeunt all but the BASTARD + +BASTARD +Mad world! mad kings! mad composition! +John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, +Hath willingly departed with a part, +And France, whose armour conscience buckled on, +Whom zeal and charity brought to the field +As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear +With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, +That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith, +That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, +Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, +Who, having no external thing to lose +But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that, +That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity, +Commodity, the bias of the world, +The world, who of itself is peised well, +Made to run even upon even ground, +Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, +This sway of motion, this Commodity, +Makes it take head from all indifferency, +From all direction, purpose, course, intent: +And this same bias, this Commodity, +This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, +Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, +Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, +From a resolved and honourable war, +To a most base and vile-concluded peace. +And why rail I on this Commodity? +But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: +Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, +When his fair angels would salute my palm; +But for my hand, as unattempted yet, +Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. +Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail +And say there is no sin but to be rich; +And being rich, my virtue then shall be +To say there is no vice but beggary. +Since kings break faith upon commodity, +Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee. + +Exit + +The Life and Death of Richard the Second +Shakespeare homepage | Richard II | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD II's palace. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other Nobles and Attendants +KING RICHARD II +Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, +Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD II +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, +If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD II +Then call them to our presence; face to face, +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak: +High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befal +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness; +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown! + +KING RICHARD II +We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come; +Namely to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +First, heaven be the record to my speech! +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tendering the precious safety of my prince, +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence. +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, +And mark my greeting well; for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth, +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain; +The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hush'd and nought at all to say: +First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; +Which else would post until it had return'd +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him; +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain: +Which to maintain I would allow him odds, +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, +Or any other ground inhabitable, +Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. +Mean time let this defend my loyalty, +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the king, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: +By that and all the rites of knighthood else, +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +I take it up; and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree, +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: +And when I mount, alive may I not light, +If I be traitor or unjustly fight! + +KING RICHARD II +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true; +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was survey'd by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. +Further I say and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood: +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries, +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, +To me for justice and rough chastisement; +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD II +How high a pitch his resolution soars! +Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood, +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD II +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears: +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow, +Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul: +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou: +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account, +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen: +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not; but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case. +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honourable father to my foe +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul +But ere I last received the sacrament +I did confess it, and exactly begg'd +Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. +This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd, +It issues from the rancour of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor +Which in myself I boldly will defend; +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +To prove myself a loyal gentleman +Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. +In haste whereof, most heartily I pray +Your highness to assign our trial day. + +KING RICHARD II +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me; +Let's purge this choler without letting blood: +This we prescribe, though no physician; +Deep malice makes too deep incision; +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age: +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD II +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: +The one my duty owes; but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD II +Rage must be withstood: +Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame. +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation: that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: +Take honour from me, and my life is done: +Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; +In that I live and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear, +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. + +Exit JOHN OF GAUNT + +KING RICHARD II +We were not born to sue, but to command; +Which since we cannot do to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day: +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate: +Since we can not atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry. +Lord marshal, command our officers at arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS +JOHN OF GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, +To stir against the butchers of his life! +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; +Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, +Or seven fair branches springing from one root: +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb, +That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death, +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair: +In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: +That which in mean men we intitle patience +Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully, +Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where then, alas, may I complain myself? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defence. + +DUCHESS +Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight: +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or, if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, +They may break his foaming courser's back, +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife +With her companion grief must end her life. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry: +As much good stay with thee as go with me! + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all:--nay, yet depart not so; +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there, +To seek out sorrow that dwells every where. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die: +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The lists at Coventry. + +Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE +Lord Marshal +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. + +Lord Marshal +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay +For nothing but his majesty's approach. + +The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms: +Ask him his name and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +In God's name and the king's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel: +Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; +As so defend thee heaven and thy valour! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk; +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me +And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me: +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armour, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby +Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, +To God of heaven, King Richard and to me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +Lord Marshal +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, +And bow my knee before his majesty: +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +Lord Marshal +The appellant in all duty greets your highness, +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD II +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight! +Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, +Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O let no noble eye profane a tear +For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you; +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: +O thou, the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, +Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, +And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous! +Be swift like lightning in the execution; +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just and upright gentleman: +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege, and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years: +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD II +Farewell, my lord: securely I espy +Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +Lord Marshal +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen. + +Lord Marshal +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. + +First Herald +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king and him; +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +Second Herald +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +Lord Marshal +Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. + +A charge sounded + +Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD II +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again: +Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. + +A long flourish + +Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; +Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood, +Therefore, we banish you our territories: +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done: this must my comfort be, +Sun that warms you here shall shine on me; +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile; +The hopeless word of 'never to return' +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your highness' hands. +The language I have learn'd these forty years, +My native English, now I must forego: +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony: +Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, +Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my gaoler to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now: +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? + +KING RICHARD II +It boots thee not to be compassionate: +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. + +KING RICHARD II +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God! +Embrace each other's love in banishment; +Nor never look upon each other's face; +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I swear. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +And I, to keep all this. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:-- +By this time, had the king permitted us, +One of our souls had wander'd in the air. +Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banish'd as from hence! +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know; +And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banish'd years +Pluck'd four away. + +To HENRY BOLINGBROKE + +Six frozen winter spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word: such is the breath of kings. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I thank my liege, that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile: +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times about +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD II +Why uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD II +Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge; but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. +Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, +I was too strict to make mine own away; +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so: +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +Lord Marshal +My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +What is six winters? they are quickly gone. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus; +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the king did banish thee, +But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit, +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour +And not the king exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime: +Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O, no! the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way: +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; +My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The court. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, with BAGOT and GREEN at one door; and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another +KING RICHARD II +We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD II +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD II +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +'Farewell:' +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells; +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD II +He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green +Observed his courtship to the common people; +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' +As were our England in reversion his, +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD II +We will ourself in person to this war: +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are inforced to farm our royal realm; +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand: if that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants; +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +Enter BUSHY + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste +To entreat your majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD II +Where lies he? + +BUSHY +At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD II +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: +Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! + +All +Amen. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Ely House. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT sick, with the DUKE OF YORK, & c +JOHN OF GAUNT +Will the king come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +DUKE OF YORK +Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony: +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. +He that no more must say is listen'd more +Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; +More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before: +The setting sun, and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past: +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +DUKE OF YORK +No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, +Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose: +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder: +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall, +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home, +For Christian service and true chivalry, +As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, +Like to a tenement or pelting farm: +England, bound in with the triumphant sea +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: +That England, that was wont to conquer others, +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +Enter KING RICHARD II and QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, LORD ROSS, and LORD WILLOUGHBY + +DUKE OF YORK +The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; +For young hot colts being raged do rage the more. + +QUEEN +How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD II +What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, +Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks; +And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. + +KING RICHARD II +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself: +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD II +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD II +Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD II +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; +Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. +Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee: +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; +And yet, incaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd, +Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king: +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou-- + +KING RICHARD II +A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son; +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused: +My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls! +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood: +Join with the present sickness that I have; +And thy unkindness be like crooked age, +To crop at once a too long wither'd flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be! +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: +Love they to live that love and honour have. + +Exit, borne off by his Attendants + +KING RICHARD II +And let them die that age and sullens have; +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +DUKE OF YORK +I do beseech your majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him: +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD II +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. + +KING RICHARD II +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, nothing; all is said +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +DUKE OF YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD II +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, corn, revenues and moveables, +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. + +DUKE OF YORK +How long shall I be patient? ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment +Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, +Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours; +But when he frown'd, it was against the French +And not against his friends; his noble hand +Did will what he did spend and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won; +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD II +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +DUKE OF YORK +O my liege, +Pardon me, if you please; if n ot, I, pleased +Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patent that he hath +By his attorneys-general to sue +His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts +And prick my tender patience, to those thoughts +Which honour and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD II +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money and his lands. + +DUKE OF YORK +I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: +What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight: +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. To-morrow next +We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow: +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York lord governor of England; +For he is just and always loved us well. +Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part; +Be merry, for our time of stay is short + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II, QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, and BAGOT + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +LORD ROSS +And living too; for now his son is duke. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +LORD ROSS +My heart is great; but it must break with silence, +Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man; +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +LORD ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him; +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many moe +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The king is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform, +Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, +That will the king severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +LORD ROSS +The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: +But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows: +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +LORD ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +LORD ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +LORD ROSS +We see the very wreck that we must suffer; +And unavoided is the danger now, +For suffering so the causes of our wreck. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +LORD ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland: +We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, +Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay +In Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint, +All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the king for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh; +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +LORD ROSS +To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT +BUSHY +Madam, your majesty is too much sad: +You promised, when you parted with the king, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the king I did; to please myself +I cannot do it; yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks, +Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves, +More than with parting from my lord the king. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, +Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; +For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects; +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail; +Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen; +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so; but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad +As, though on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief; mine is not so, +For nothing had begot my something grief; +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: +'Tis in reversion that I do possess; +But what it is, that is not yet known; what +I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. + +Enter GREEN + +GREEN +God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: +I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is; +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power, +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land: +The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN +Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, +And all the household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN +Who shall hinder me? +I will despair, and be at enmity +With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +Enter DUKE OF YORK + +GREEN +Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck: +O, full of careful business are his looks! +Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. + +DUKE OF YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: +Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off, +Whilst others come to make him lose at home: +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +DUKE OF YORK +He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! +The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: +Hold, take my ring. + +Servant +My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, +To-day, as I came by, I called there; +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +DUKE OF YORK +What is't, knave? + +Servant +An hour before I came, the duchess died. + +DUKE OF YORK +God for his mercy! what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do: I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The king had cut off my head with my brother's. +What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars? +Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me. +Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts +And bring away the armour that is there. + +Exit Servant + +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen: +The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; the other again +Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll +Dispose of you. +Gentlemen, go, muster up your men, +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too; +But time will not permit: all is uneven, +And every thing is left at six and seven. + +Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the king in love +Is near the hate of those love not the king. + +BAGOT +And that's the wavering commons: for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. + +BAGOT +If judgement lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the king. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle: +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you; for little office +The hateful commons will perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No; I will to Ireland to his majesty. +Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, +We three here art that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes +Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry: +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +The Life and Death of Richard the Third +Shakespeare homepage | Richard III | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, solus +GLOUCESTER +Now is the winter of our discontent +Made glorious summer by this sun of York; +And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house +In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. +Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; +Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; +Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, +Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. +Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; +And now, instead of mounting barded steeds +To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, +He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber +To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. +But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, +Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; +I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty +To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; +I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, +Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, +Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time +Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, +And that so lamely and unfashionable +That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; +Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, +Have no delight to pass away the time, +Unless to spy my shadow in the sun +And descant on mine own deformity: +And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, +To entertain these fair well-spoken days, +I am determined to prove a villain +And hate the idle pleasures of these days. +Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, +By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams, +To set my brother Clarence and the king +In deadly hate the one against the other: +And if King Edward be as true and just +As I am subtle, false and treacherous, +This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, +About a prophecy, which says that 'G' +Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. +Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here +Clarence comes. + +Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY + +Brother, good day; what means this armed guard +That waits upon your grace? + +CLARENCE +His majesty +Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed +This conduct to convey me to the Tower. + +GLOUCESTER +Upon what cause? + +CLARENCE +Because my name is George. + +GLOUCESTER +Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; +He should, for that, commit your godfathers: +O, belike his majesty hath some intent +That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower. +But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? + +CLARENCE +Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest +As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, +He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; +And from the cross-row plucks the letter G. +And says a wizard told him that by G +His issue disinherited should be; +And, for my name of George begins with G, +It follows in his thought that I am he. +These, as I learn, and such like toys as these +Have moved his highness to commit me now. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women: +'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower: +My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she +That tempers him to this extremity. +Was it not she and that good man of worship, +Anthony Woodville, her brother there, +That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, +From whence this present day he is deliver'd? +We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I think there's no man is secure +But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds +That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. +Heard ye not what an humble suppliant +Lord hastings was to her for his delivery? + +GLOUCESTER +Humbly complaining to her deity +Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. +I'll tell you what; I think it is our way, +If we will keep in favour with the king, +To be her men and wear her livery: +The jealous o'erworn widow and herself, +Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen. +Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your graces both to pardon me; +His majesty hath straitly given in charge +That no man shall have private conference, +Of what degree soever, with his brother. + +GLOUCESTER +Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, +You may partake of any thing we say: +We speak no treason, man: we say the king +Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen +Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; +We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, +A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; +And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks: +How say you sir? Can you deny all this? + +BRAKENBURY +With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. + +GLOUCESTER +Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow, +He that doth naught with her, excepting one, +Were best he do it secretly, alone. + +BRAKENBURY +What one, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me? + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal +Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + +CLARENCE +We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. + +GLOUCESTER +We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. +Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; +And whatsoever you will employ me in, +Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, +I will perform it to enfranchise you. +Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood +Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + +CLARENCE +I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; +Meantime, have patience. + +CLARENCE +I must perforce. Farewell. + +Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard + +GLOUCESTER +Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. +Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, +That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, +If heaven will take the present at our hands. +But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? + +Enter HASTINGS + +HASTINGS +Good time of day unto my gracious lord! + +GLOUCESTER +As much unto my good lord chamberlain! +Well are you welcome to the open air. +How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? + +HASTINGS +With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: +But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks +That were the cause of my imprisonment. + +GLOUCESTER +No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; +For they that were your enemies are his, +And have prevail'd as much on him as you. + +HASTINGS +More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, +While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +What news abroad? + +HASTINGS +No news so bad abroad as this at home; +The King is sickly, weak and melancholy, +And his physicians fear him mightily. + +GLOUCESTER +Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. +O, he hath kept an evil diet long, +And overmuch consumed his royal person: +'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. +What, is he in his bed? + +HASTINGS +He is. + +GLOUCESTER +Go you before, and I will follow you. + +Exit HASTINGS + +He cannot live, I hope; and must not die +Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven. +I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, +With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; +And, if I fall not in my deep intent, +Clarence hath not another day to live: +Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, +And leave the world for me to bustle in! +For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. +What though I kill'd her husband and her father? +The readiest way to make the wench amends +Is to become her husband and her father: +The which will I; not all so much for love +As for another secret close intent, +By marrying her which I must reach unto. +But yet I run before my horse to market: +Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: +When they are gone, then must I count my gains. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. Another street. + +Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner +LADY ANNE +Set down, set down your honourable load, +If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, +Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament +The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. +Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! +Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! +Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! +Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, +To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne, +Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, +Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! +Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, +I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. +Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! +Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it! +Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! +More direful hap betide that hated wretch, +That makes us wretched by the death of thee, +Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, +Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! +If ever he have child, abortive be it, +Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, +Whose ugly and unnatural aspect +May fright the hopeful mother at the view; +And that be heir to his unhappiness! +If ever he have wife, let her he made +A miserable by the death of him +As I am made by my poor lord and thee! +Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, +Taken from Paul's to be interred there; +And still, as you are weary of the weight, +Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + +LADY ANNE +What black magician conjures up this fiend, +To stop devoted charitable deeds? + +GLOUCESTER +Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, +I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. + +Gentleman +My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. + +GLOUCESTER +Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: +Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, +Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, +And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. + +LADY ANNE +What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? +Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, +And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. +Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! +Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, +His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone. + +GLOUCESTER +Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + +LADY ANNE +Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; +For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, +Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. +If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, +Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. +O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds +Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! +Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity; +For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood +From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; +Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, +Provokes this deluge most unnatural. +O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death! +O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death! +Either heaven with lightning strike the +murderer dead, +Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, +As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood +Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! + +GLOUCESTER +Lady, you know no rules of charity, +Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + +LADY ANNE +Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: +No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + +GLOUCESTER +But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + +LADY ANNE +O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + +GLOUCESTER +More wonderful, when angels are so angry. +Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, +Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, +By circumstance, but to acquit myself. + +LADY ANNE +Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man, +For these known evils, but to give me leave, +By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. + +GLOUCESTER +Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have +Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make +No excuse current, but to hang thyself. + +GLOUCESTER +By such despair, I should accuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; +For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, +Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + +GLOUCESTER +Say that I slew them not? + +LADY ANNE +Why, then they are not dead: +But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee. + +GLOUCESTER +I did not kill your husband. + +LADY ANNE +Why, then he is alive. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. + +LADY ANNE +In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw +Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; +The which thou once didst bend against her breast, +But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + +GLOUCESTER +I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, +which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + +LADY ANNE +Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. +Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries: +Didst thou not kill this king? + +GLOUCESTER +I grant ye. + +LADY ANNE +Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too +Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! +O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! + +GLOUCESTER +The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. + +LADY ANNE +He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; +For he was fitter for that place than earth. + +LADY ANNE +And thou unfit for any place but hell. + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + +LADY ANNE +Some dungeon. + +GLOUCESTER +Your bed-chamber. + +LADY ANNE +I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + +GLOUCESTER +So will it, madam till I lie with you. + +LADY ANNE +I hope so. + +GLOUCESTER +I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, +To leave this keen encounter of our wits, +And fall somewhat into a slower method, +Is not the causer of the timeless deaths +Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, +As blameful as the executioner? + +LADY ANNE +Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. + +GLOUCESTER +Your beauty was the cause of that effect; +Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep +To undertake the death of all the world, +So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + +LADY ANNE +If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, +These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. + +GLOUCESTER +These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck; +You should not blemish it, if I stood by: +As all the world is cheered by the sun, +So I by that; it is my day, my life. + +LADY ANNE +Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! + +GLOUCESTER +Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both. + +LADY ANNE +I would I were, to be revenged on thee. + +GLOUCESTER +It is a quarrel most unnatural, +To be revenged on him that loveth you. + +LADY ANNE +It is a quarrel just and reasonable, +To be revenged on him that slew my husband. + +GLOUCESTER +He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, +Did it to help thee to a better husband. + +LADY ANNE +His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + +GLOUCESTER +He lives that loves thee better than he could. + +LADY ANNE +Name him. + +GLOUCESTER +Plantagenet. + +LADY ANNE +Why, that was he. + +GLOUCESTER +The selfsame name, but one of better nature. + +LADY ANNE +Where is he? + +GLOUCESTER +Here. + +She spitteth at him + +Why dost thou spit at me? + +LADY ANNE +Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! + +GLOUCESTER +Never came poison from so sweet a place. + +LADY ANNE +Never hung poison on a fouler toad. +Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. + +GLOUCESTER +Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + +LADY ANNE +Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! + +GLOUCESTER +I would they were, that I might die at once; +For now they kill me with a living death. +Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, +Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops: +These eyes that never shed remorseful tear, +No, when my father York and Edward wept, +To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made +When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; +Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, +Told the sad story of my father's death, +And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, +That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks +Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time +My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; +And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, +Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. +I never sued to friend nor enemy; +My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; +But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, +My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. + +She looks scornfully at him + +Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made +For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. +If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, +Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; +Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom. +And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, +I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, +And humbly beg the death upon my knee. + +He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword + +Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry, +But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. +Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward, +But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. + +Here she lets fall the sword + +Take up the sword again, or take up me. + +LADY ANNE +Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, +I will not be the executioner. + +GLOUCESTER +Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + +LADY ANNE +I have already. + +GLOUCESTER +Tush, that was in thy rage: +Speak it again, and, even with the word, +That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, +Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; +To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. + +LADY ANNE +I would I knew thy heart. + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis figured in my tongue. + +LADY ANNE +I fear me both are false. + +GLOUCESTER +Then never man was true. + +LADY ANNE +Well, well, put up your sword. + +GLOUCESTER +Say, then, my peace is made. + +LADY ANNE +That shall you know hereafter. + +GLOUCESTER +But shall I live in hope? + +LADY ANNE +All men, I hope, live so. + +GLOUCESTER +Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + +LADY ANNE +To take is not to give. + +GLOUCESTER +Look, how this ring encompasseth finger. +Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; +Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. +And if thy poor devoted suppliant may +But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, +Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. + +LADY ANNE +What is it? + +GLOUCESTER +That it would please thee leave these sad designs +To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, +And presently repair to Crosby Place; +Where, after I have solemnly interr'd +At Chertsey monastery this noble king, +And wet his grave with my repentant tears, +I will with all expedient duty see you: +For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you, +Grant me this boon. + +LADY ANNE +With all my heart; and much it joys me too, +To see you are become so penitent. +Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + +GLOUCESTER +Bid me farewell. + +LADY ANNE +'Tis more than you deserve; +But since you teach me how to flatter you, +Imagine I have said farewell already. + +Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY + +GLOUCESTER +Sirs, take up the corse. + +GENTLEMEN +Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + +GLOUCESTER +No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? +Was ever woman in this humour won? +I'll have her; but I will not keep her long. +What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, +To take her in her heart's extremest hate, +With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, +The bleeding witness of her hatred by; +Having God, her conscience, and these bars +against me, +And I nothing to back my suit at all, +But the plain devil and dissembling looks, +And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! +Ha! +Hath she forgot already that brave prince, +Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, +Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? +A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, +Framed in the prodigality of nature, +Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, +The spacious world cannot again afford +And will she yet debase her eyes on me, +That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, +And made her widow to a woful bed? +On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? +On me, that halt and am unshapen thus? +My dukedom to a beggarly denier, +I do mistake my person all this while: +Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, +Myself to be a marvellous proper man. +I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, +And entertain some score or two of tailors, +To study fashions to adorn my body: +Since I am crept in favour with myself, +Will maintain it with some little cost. +But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave; +And then return lamenting to my love. +Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, +That I may see my shadow as I pass. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY +RIVERS +Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty +Will soon recover his accustom'd health. + +GREY +In that you brook it in, it makes him worse: +Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, +And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +If he were dead, what would betide of me? + +RIVERS +No other harm but loss of such a lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The loss of such a lord includes all harm. + +GREY +The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, +To be your comforter when he is gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, he is young and his minority +Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, +A man that loves not me, nor none of you. + +RIVERS +Is it concluded that he shall be protector? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +It is determined, not concluded yet: +But so it must be, if the king miscarry. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY + +GREY +Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby. + +BUCKINGHAM +Good time of day unto your royal grace! + +DERBY +God make your majesty joyful as you have been! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby. +To your good prayers will scarcely say amen. +Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife, +And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured +I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + +DERBY +I do beseech you, either not believe +The envious slanders of her false accusers; +Or, if she be accused in true report, +Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds +From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. + +RIVERS +Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby? + +DERBY +But now the Duke of Buckingham and I +Are come from visiting his majesty. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What likelihood of his amendment, lords? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +God grant him health! Did you confer with him? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement +Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, +And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; +And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Would all were well! but that will never be +I fear our happiness is at the highest. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET + +GLOUCESTER +They do me wrong, and I will not endure it: +Who are they that complain unto the king, +That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? +By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly +That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. +Because I cannot flatter and speak fair, +Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog, +Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, +I must be held a rancorous enemy. +Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, +But thus his simple truth must be abused +By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + +RIVERS +To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? + +GLOUCESTER +To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. +When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong? +Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction? +A plague upon you all! His royal person,-- +Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-- +Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while, +But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. +The king, of his own royal disposition, +And not provoked by any suitor else; +Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, +Which in your outward actions shows itself +Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, +Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather +The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad, +That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch: +Since every Jack became a gentleman +There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Come, come, we know your meaning, brother +Gloucester; +You envy my advancement and my friends': +God grant we never may have need of you! + +GLOUCESTER +Meantime, God grants that we have need of you: +Your brother is imprison'd by your means, +Myself disgraced, and the nobility +Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions +Are daily given to ennoble those +That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +By Him that raised me to this careful height +From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, +I never did incense his majesty +Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been +An earnest advocate to plead for him. +My lord, you do me shameful injury, +Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + +GLOUCESTER +You may deny that you were not the cause +Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + +RIVERS +She may, my lord, for-- + +GLOUCESTER +She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so? +She may do more, sir, than denying that: +She may help you to many fair preferments, +And then deny her aiding hand therein, +And lay those honours on your high deserts. +What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she-- + +RIVERS +What, marry, may she? + +GLOUCESTER +What, marry, may she! marry with a king, +A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: +I wis your grandam had a worser match. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne +Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs: +By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty +With those gross taunts I often have endured. +I had rather be a country servant-maid +Than a great queen, with this condition, +To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at: + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind + +Small joy have I in being England's queen. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! +Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. + +GLOUCESTER +What! threat you me with telling of the king? +Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said +I will avouch in presence of the king: +I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. +'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Out, devil! I remember them too well: +Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower, +And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. + +GLOUCESTER +Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king, +I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; +A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, +A liberal rewarder of his friends: +To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Yea, and much better blood than his or thine. + +GLOUCESTER +In all which time you and your husband Grey +Were factious for the house of Lancaster; +And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband +In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? +Let me put in your minds, if you forget, +What you have been ere now, and what you are; +Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A murderous villain, and so still thou art. + +GLOUCESTER +Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick; +Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!-- + +QUEEN MARGARET +Which God revenge! + +GLOUCESTER +To fight on Edward's party for the crown; +And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. +I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's; +Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine +I am too childish-foolish for this world. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, +Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. + +RIVERS +My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days +Which here you urge to prove us enemies, +We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king: +So should we you, if you should be our king. + +GLOUCESTER +If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar: +Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As little joy, my lord, as you suppose +You should enjoy, were you this country's king, +As little joy may you suppose in me. +That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; +For I am she, and altogether joyless. +I can no longer hold me patient. + +Advancing + +Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out +In sharing that which you have pill'd from me! +Which of you trembles not that looks on me? +If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, +Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels? +O gentle villain, do not turn away! + +GLOUCESTER +Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; +That will I make before I let thee go. + +GLOUCESTER +Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I was; but I do find more pain in banishment +Than death can yield me here by my abode. +A husband and a son thou owest to me; +And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance: +The sorrow that I have, by right is yours, +And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + +GLOUCESTER +The curse my noble father laid on thee, +When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper +And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, +And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout +Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-- +His curses, then from bitterness of soul +Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; +And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +So just is God, to right the innocent. + +HASTINGS +O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, +And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + +RIVERS +Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + +DORSET +No man but prophesied revenge for it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What were you snarling all before I came, +Ready to catch each other by the throat, +And turn you all your hatred now on me? +Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven? +That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, +Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, +Could all but answer for that peevish brat? +Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? +Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! +If not by war, by surfeit die your king, +As ours by murder, to make him a king! +Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, +For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales, +Die in his youth by like untimely violence! +Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, +Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! +Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss; +And see another, as I see thee now, +Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! +Long die thy happy days before thy death; +And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, +Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen! +Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by, +And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son +Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, +That none of you may live your natural age, +But by some unlook'd accident cut off! + +GLOUCESTER +Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! + +QUEEN MARGARET +And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. +If heaven have any grievous plague in store +Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, +O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, +And then hurl down their indignation +On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! +The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! +Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, +And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! +No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, +Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream +Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! +Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! +Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity +The slave of nature and the son of hell! +Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! +Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! +Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- + +GLOUCESTER +Margaret. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Richard! + +GLOUCESTER +Ha! + +QUEEN MARGARET +I call thee not. + +GLOUCESTER +I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought +That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. +O, let me make the period to my curse! + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.' + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune! +Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, +Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? +Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. +The time will come when thou shalt wish for me +To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad. + +HASTINGS +False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, +Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine. + +RIVERS +Were you well served, you would be taught your duty. + +QUEEN MARGARET +To serve me well, you all should do me duty, +Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: +O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + +DORSET +Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, master marquess, you are malapert: +Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. +O, that your young nobility could judge +What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! +They that stand high have many blasts to shake them; +And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. + +GLOUCESTER +Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess. + +DORSET +It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me. + +GLOUCESTER +Yea, and much more: but I was born so high, +Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, +And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas! +Witness my son, now in the shade of death; +Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath +Hath in eternal darkness folded up. +Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. +O God, that seest it, do not suffer it! +As it was won with blood, lost be it so! + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done! for shame, if not for charity. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Urge neither charity nor shame to me: +Uncharitably with me have you dealt, +And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. +My charity is outrage, life my shame +And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage. + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done, have done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand, +In sign of league and amity with thee: +Now fair befal thee and thy noble house! +Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, +Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nor no one here; for curses never pass +The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, +And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. +O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! +Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, +His venom tooth will rankle to the death: +Have not to do with him, beware of him; +Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, +And all their ministers attend on him. + +GLOUCESTER +What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? +And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? +O, but remember this another day, +When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, +And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! +Live each of you the subjects to his hate, +And he to yours, and all of you to God's! + +Exit + +HASTINGS +My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. + +RIVERS +And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, +She hath had too much wrong; and I repent +My part thereof that I have done to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I never did her any, to my knowledge. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have all the vantage of her wrong. +I was too hot to do somebody good, +That is too cold in thinking of it now. +Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid, +He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains +God pardon them that are the cause of it! + +RIVERS +A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, +To pray for them that have done scathe to us. + +GLOUCESTER +So do I ever: + +Aside + +being well-advised. +For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. + +Enter CATESBY + +CATESBY +Madam, his majesty doth call for you, +And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? + +RIVERS +Madam, we will attend your grace. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. +The secret mischiefs that I set abroach +I lay unto the grievous charge of others. +Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, +I do beweep to many simple gulls +Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham; +And say it is the queen and her allies +That stir the king against the duke my brother. +Now, they believe it; and withal whet me +To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: +But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, +Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: +And thus I clothe my naked villany +With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; +And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. + +Enter two Murderers + +But, soft! here come my executioners. +How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! +Are you now going to dispatch this deed? + +First Murderer +We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant +That we may be admitted where he is. + +GLOUCESTER +Well thought upon; I have it here about me. + +Gives the warrant + +When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. +But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, +Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; +For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps +May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. + +First Murderer +Tush! +Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; +Talkers are no good doers: be assured +We come to use our hands and not our tongues. + +GLOUCESTER +Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears: +I like you, lads; about your business straight; +Go, go, dispatch. + +First Murderer +We will, my noble lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Tower. + +Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY +BRAKENBURY +Why looks your grace so heavily today? + +CLARENCE +O, I have pass'd a miserable night, +So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, +That, as I am a Christian faithful man, +I would not spend another such a night, +Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, +So full of dismal terror was the time! + +BRAKENBURY +What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower, +And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; +And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; +Who from my cabin tempted me to walk +Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England, +And cited up a thousand fearful times, +During the wars of York and Lancaster +That had befall'n us. As we paced along +Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, +Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling, +Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, +Into the tumbling billows of the main. +Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! +What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! +What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! +Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; +Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; +Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, +Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, +All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: +Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes +Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, +As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, +Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, +And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. + +BRAKENBURY +Had you such leisure in the time of death +To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? + +CLARENCE +Methought I had; and often did I strive +To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood +Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth +To seek the empty, vast and wandering air; +But smother'd it within my panting bulk, +Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. + +BRAKENBURY +Awaked you not with this sore agony? + +CLARENCE +O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; +O, then began the tempest to my soul, +Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, +With that grim ferryman which poets write of, +Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. +The first that there did greet my stranger soul, +Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; +Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury +Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' +And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by +A shadow like an angel, with bright hair +Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud, +'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, +That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; +Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!' +With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends +Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears +Such hideous cries, that with the very noise +I trembling waked, and for a season after +Could not believe but that I was in hell, +Such terrible impression made the dream. + +BRAKENBURY +No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you; +I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +O Brakenbury, I have done those things, +Which now bear evidence against my soul, +For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me! +O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, +But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, +Yet execute thy wrath in me alone, +O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! +I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; +My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + +BRAKENBURY +I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! + +CLARENCE sleeps + +Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, +Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. +Princes have but their tides for their glories, +An outward honour for an inward toil; +And, for unfelt imagination, +They often feel a world of restless cares: +So that, betwixt their tides and low names, +There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + +Enter the two Murderers + +First Murderer +Ho! who's here? + +BRAKENBURY +In God's name what are you, and how came you hither? + +First Murderer +I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. + +BRAKENBURY +Yea, are you so brief? + +Second Murderer +O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show +him our commission; talk no more. + +BRAKENBURY reads it + +BRAKENBURY +I am, in this, commanded to deliver +The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: +I will not reason what is meant hereby, +Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. +Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep: +I'll to the king; and signify to him +That thus I have resign'd my charge to you. + +First Murderer +Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. + +Exit BRAKENBURY + +Second Murderer +What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? + +First Murderer +No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. + +Second Murderer +When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till +the judgment-day. + +First Murderer +Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping. + +Second Murderer +The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind +of remorse in me. + +First Murderer +What, art thou afraid? + +Second Murderer +Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be +damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us. + +First Murderer +I thought thou hadst been resolute. + +Second Murderer +So I am, to let him live. + +First Murderer +Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so. + +Second Murderer +I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour +will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one +would tell twenty. + +First Murderer +How dost thou feel thyself now? + +Second Murderer +'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet +within me. + +First Murderer +Remember our reward, when the deed is done. + +Second Murderer +'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward. + +First Murderer +Where is thy conscience now? + +Second Murderer +In the Duke of Gloucester's purse. + +First Murderer +So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, +thy conscience flies out. + +Second Murderer +Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it. + +First Murderer +How if it come to thee again? + +Second Murderer +I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it +makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it +accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him; +he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it +detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that +mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of +obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold +that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it +is turned out of all towns and cities for a +dangerous thing; and every man that means to live +well endeavours to trust to himself and to live +without it. + +First Murderer +'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me +not to kill the duke. + +Second Murderer +Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he +would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. + +First Murderer +Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me, +I warrant thee. + +Second Murderer +Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his +reputation. Come, shall we to this gear? + +First Murderer +Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy +sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt +in the next room. + +Second Murderer +O excellent devise! make a sop of him. + +First Murderer +Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? + +Second Murderer +No, first let's reason with him. + +CLARENCE +Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. + +Second murderer +You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. + +CLARENCE +In God's name, what art thou? + +Second Murderer +A man, as you are. + +CLARENCE +But not, as I am, royal. + +Second Murderer +Nor you, as we are, loyal. + +CLARENCE +Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + +Second Murderer +My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. + +CLARENCE +How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! +Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? +Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + +Both +To, to, to-- + +CLARENCE +To murder me? + +Both +Ay, ay. + +CLARENCE +You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, +And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. +Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + +First Murderer +Offended us you have not, but the king. + +CLARENCE +I shall be reconciled to him again. + +Second Murderer +Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. + +CLARENCE +Are you call'd forth from out a world of men +To slay the innocent? What is my offence? +Where are the evidence that do accuse me? +What lawful quest have given their verdict up +Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced +The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? +Before I be convict by course of law, +To threaten me with death is most unlawful. +I charge you, as you hope to have redemption +By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, +That you depart and lay no hands on me +The deed you undertake is damnable. + +First Murderer +What we will do, we do upon command. + +Second Murderer +And he that hath commanded is the king. + +CLARENCE +Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings +Hath in the tables of his law commanded +That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then, +Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's? +Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands, +To hurl upon their heads that break his law. + +Second Murderer +And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, +For false forswearing and for murder too: +Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, +To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. + +First Murderer +And, like a traitor to the name of God, +Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade +Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. + +Second Murderer +Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. + +First Murderer +How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, +When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? + +CLARENCE +Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? +For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs, +He sends ye not to murder me for this +For in this sin he is as deep as I. +If God will be revenged for this deed. +O, know you yet, he doth it publicly, +Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm; +He needs no indirect nor lawless course +To cut off those that have offended him. + +First Murderer +Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, +When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, +That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + +CLARENCE +My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + +First Murderer +Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, +Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me; +I am his brother, and I love him well. +If you be hired for meed, go back again, +And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, +Who shall reward you better for my life +Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + +Second Murderer +You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. + +CLARENCE +O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: +Go you to him from me. + +Both +Ay, so we will. + +CLARENCE +Tell him, when that our princely father York +Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, +And charged us from his soul to love each other, +He little thought of this divided friendship: +Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + +First Murderer +Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep. + +CLARENCE +O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + +First Murderer +Right, +As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself: +'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +It cannot be; for when I parted with him, +He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, +That he would labour my delivery. + +Second Murderer +Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee +From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven. + +First Murderer +Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. + +CLARENCE +Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, +To counsel me to make my peace with God, +And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, +That thou wilt war with God by murdering me? +Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on +To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + +Second Murderer +What shall we do? + +CLARENCE +Relent, and save your souls. + +First Murderer +Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish. + +CLARENCE +Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. +Which of you, if you were a prince's son, +Being pent from liberty, as I am now, +if two such murderers as yourselves came to you, +Would not entreat for life? +My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks: +O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, +Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, +As you would beg, were you in my distress +A begging prince what beggar pities not? + +Second Murderer +Look behind you, my lord. + +First Murderer +Take that, and that: if all this will not do, + +Stabs him + +I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. + +Exit, with the body + +Second Murderer +A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd! +How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands +Of this most grievous guilty murder done! + +Re-enter First Murderer + +First Murderer +How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? +By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art! + +Second Murderer +I would he knew that I had saved his brother! +Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; +For I repent me that the duke is slain. + +Exit + +First Murderer +So do not I: go, coward as thou art. +Now must I hide his body in some hole, +Until the duke take order for his burial: +And when I have my meed, I must away; +For this will out, and here I must not stay. + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others +KING EDWARD IV +Why, so: now have I done a good day's work: +You peers, continue this united league: +I every day expect an embassage +From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; +And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven, +Since I have set my friends at peace on earth. +Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand; +Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. + +RIVERS +By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate: +And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + +HASTINGS +So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! + +KING EDWARD IV +Take heed you dally not before your king; +Lest he that is the supreme King of kings +Confound your hidden falsehood, and award +Either of you to be the other's end. + +HASTINGS +So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! + +RIVERS +And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! + +KING EDWARD IV +Madam, yourself are not exempt in this, +Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you; +You have been factious one against the other, +Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; +And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Here, Hastings; I will never more remember +Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine! + +KING EDWARD IV +Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess. + +DORSET +This interchange of love, I here protest, +Upon my part shall be unviolable. + +HASTINGS +And so swear I, my lord + +They embrace + +KING EDWARD IV +Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league +With thy embracements to my wife's allies, +And make me happy in your unity. + +BUCKINGHAM +Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate +On you or yours, + +To the Queen + +but with all duteous love +Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me +With hate in those where I expect most love! +When I have most need to employ a friend, +And most assured that he is a friend +Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, +Be he unto me! this do I beg of God, +When I am cold in zeal to yours. + +KING EDWARD IV +A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, +is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. +There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here, +To make the perfect period of this peace. + +BUCKINGHAM +And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen: +And, princely peers, a happy time of day! + +KING EDWARD IV +Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. +Brother, we done deeds of charity; +Made peace enmity, fair love of hate, +Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. + +GLOUCESTER +A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege: +Amongst this princely heap, if any here, +By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, +Hold me a foe; +If I unwittingly, or in my rage, +Have aught committed that is hardly borne +By any in this presence, I desire +To reconcile me to his friendly peace: +'Tis death to me to be at enmity; +I hate it, and desire all good men's love. +First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, +Which I will purchase with my duteous service; +Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, +If ever any grudge were lodged between us; +Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you; +That without desert have frown'd on me; +Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. +I do not know that Englishman alive +With whom my soul is any jot at odds +More than the infant that is born to-night +I thank my God for my humility. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A holy day shall this be kept hereafter: +I would to God all strifes were well compounded. +My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty +To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this +To be so bouted in this royal presence? +Who knows not that the noble duke is dead? + +They all start + +You do him injury to scorn his corse. + +RIVERS +Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +All seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +BUCKINGHAM +Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +DORSET +Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence +But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. + +KING EDWARD IV +Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed. + +GLOUCESTER +But he, poor soul, by your first order died, +And that a winged Mercury did bear: +Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, +That came too lag to see him buried. +God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, +Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, +Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, +And yet go current from suspicion! + +Enter DERBY + +DORSET +A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! + +KING EDWARD IV +I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. + +DORSET +I will not rise, unless your highness grant. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st. + +DORSET +The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; +Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman +Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + +KING EDWARD IV +Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, +And shall the same give pardon to a slave? +My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, +And yet his punishment was cruel death. +Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, +Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised +Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? +Who told me how the poor soul did forsake +The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? +Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury +When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, +And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? +Who told me, when we both lay in the field +Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me +Even in his own garments, and gave himself, +All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? +All this from my remembrance brutish wrath +Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you +Had so much grace to put it in my mind. +But when your carters or your waiting-vassals +Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced +The precious image of our dear Redeemer, +You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; +And I unjustly too, must grant it you +But for my brother not a man would speak, +Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself +For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all +Have been beholding to him in his life; +Yet none of you would once plead for his life. +O God, I fear thy justice will take hold +On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! +Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. +Oh, poor Clarence! + +Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET + +GLOUCESTER +This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not +How that the guilty kindred of the queen +Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? +O, they did urge it still unto the king! +God will revenge it. But come, let us in, +To comfort Edward with our company. + +BUCKINGHAM +We wait upon your grace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE +Boy +Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +No, boy. + +Boy +Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast, +And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!' + +Girl +Why do you look on us, and shake your head, +And call us wretches, orphans, castaways +If that our noble father be alive? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; +I do lament the sickness of the king. +As loath to lose him, not your father's death; +It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + +Boy +Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. +The king my uncle is to blame for this: +God will revenge it; whom I will importune +With daily prayers all to that effect. + +Girl +And so will I. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: +Incapable and shallow innocents, +You cannot guess who caused your father's death. + +Boy +Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester +Told me, the king, provoked by the queen, +Devised impeachments to imprison him : +And when my uncle told me so, he wept, +And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; +Bade me rely on him as on my father, +And he would love me dearly as his child. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, +And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile! +He is my son; yea, and therein my shame; +Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + +Boy +Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ay, boy. + +Boy +I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, +To chide my fortune, and torment myself? +I'll join with black despair against my soul, +And to myself become an enemy. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What means this scene of rude impatience? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To make an act of tragic violence: +Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead. +Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd? +Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone? +If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, +That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; +Or, like obedient subjects, follow him +To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow +As I had title in thy noble husband! +I have bewept a worthy husband's death, +And lived by looking on his images: +But now two mirrors of his princely semblance +Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, +And I for comfort have but one false glass, +Which grieves me when I see my shame in him. +Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, +And hast the comfort of thy children left thee: +But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, +And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs, +Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I, +Thine being but a moiety of my grief, +To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries! + +Boy +Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death; +How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + +Girl +Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; +Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Give me no help in lamentation; +I am not barren to bring forth complaints +All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, +That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, +May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! +Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! + +Children +Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. + +Children +What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What stays had I but they? and they are gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Was never widow had so dear a loss! + +Children +Were never orphans had so dear a loss! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Was never mother had so dear a loss! +Alas, I am the mother of these moans! +Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. +She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; +I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: +These babes for Clarence weep and so do I; +I for an Edward weep, so do not they: +Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd, +Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, +And I will pamper it with lamentations. + +DORSET +Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased +That you take with unthankfulness, his doing: +In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful, +With dull unwilligness to repay a debt +Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; +Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, +For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + +RIVERS +Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, +Of the young prince your son: send straight for him +Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: +Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, +And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause +To wail the dimming of our shining star; +But none can cure their harms by wailing them. +Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; +I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee +I crave your blessing. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind, +Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man! +That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: +I marvel why her grace did leave it out. + +BUCKINGHAM +You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers, +That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, +Now cheer each other in each other's love +Though we have spent our harvest of this king, +We are to reap the harvest of his son. +The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts, +But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, +Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept: +Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, +Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd +Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. + +RIVERS +Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, +The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, +Which would be so much the more dangerous +By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd: +Where every horse bears his commanding rein, +And may direct his course as please himself, +As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, +In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + +GLOUCESTER +I hope the king made peace with all of us +And the compact is firm and true in me. + +RIVERS +And so in me; and so, I think, in all: +Yet, since it is but green, it should be put +To no apparent likelihood of breach, +Which haply by much company might be urged: +Therefore I say with noble Buckingham, +That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. + +HASTINGS +And so say I. + +GLOUCESTER +Then be it so; and go we to determine +Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. +Madam, and you, my mother, will you go +To give your censures in this weighty business? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH DUCHESS OF YORK +With all our harts. + +Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, +For God's sake, let not us two be behind; +For, by the way, I'll sort occasion, +As index to the story we late talk'd of, +To part the queen's proud kindred from the king. + +GLOUCESTER +My other self, my counsel's consistory, +My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin, +I, like a child, will go by thy direction. +Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. A street. + +Enter two Citizens meeting +First Citizen +Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast? + +Second Citizen +I promise you, I scarcely know myself: +Hear you the news abroad? + +First Citizen +Ay, that the king is dead. + +Second Citizen +Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: +I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world. + +Enter another Citizen + +Third Citizen +Neighbours, God speed! + +First Citizen +Give you good morrow, sir. + +Third Citizen +Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death? + +Second Citizen +Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! + +Third Citizen +Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. + +First Citizen +No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign. + +Third Citizen +Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child! + +Second Citizen +In him there is a hope of government, +That in his nonage council under him, +And in his full and ripen'd years himself, +No doubt, shall then and till then govern well. + +First Citizen +So stood the state when Henry the Sixth +Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. + +Third Citizen +Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot; +For then this land was famously enrich'd +With politic grave counsel; then the king +Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. + +The Tragedy of Coriolanus +Shakespeare homepage | Coriolanus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons +First Citizen +Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. + +All +Speak, speak. + +First Citizen +You are all resolved rather to die than to famish? + +All +Resolved. resolved. + +First Citizen +First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. + +All +We know't, we know't. + +First Citizen +Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. +Is't a verdict? + +All +No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away! + +Second Citizen +One word, good citizens. + +First Citizen +We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. +What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they +would yield us but the superfluity, while it were +wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; +but they think we are too dear: the leanness that +afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an +inventory to particularise their abundance; our +sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with +our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I +speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. + +Second Citizen +Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? + +All +Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty. + +Second Citizen +Consider you what services he has done for his country? + +First Citizen +Very well; and could be content to give him good +report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud. + +Second Citizen +Nay, but speak not maliciously. + +First Citizen +I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did +it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be +content to say it was for his country he did it to +please his mother and to be partly proud; which he +is, even till the altitude of his virtue. + +Second Citizen +What he cannot help in his nature, you account a +vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous. + +First Citizen +If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; +he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. + +Shouts within + +What shouts are these? The other side o' the city +is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol! + +All +Come, come. + +First Citizen +Soft! who comes here? + +Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA + +Second Citizen +Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved +the people. + +First Citizen +He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so! + +MENENIUS +What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you +With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you. + +First Citizen +Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have +had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, +which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor +suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we +have strong arms too. + +MENENIUS +Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, +Will you undo yourselves? + +First Citizen +We cannot, sir, we are undone already. + +MENENIUS +I tell you, friends, most charitable care +Have the patricians of you. For your wants, +Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well +Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them +Against the Roman state, whose course will on +The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs +Of more strong link asunder than can ever +Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, +The gods, not the patricians, make it, and +Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, +You are transported by calamity +Thither where more attends you, and you slander +The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers, +When you curse them as enemies. + +First Citizen +Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us +yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses +crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to +support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act +established against the rich, and provide more +piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain +the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and +there's all the love they bear us. + +MENENIUS +Either you must +Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, +Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you +A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; +But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture +To stale 't a little more. + +First Citizen +Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to +fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please +you, deliver. + +MENENIUS +There was a time when all the body's members +Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it: +That only like a gulf it did remain +I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive, +Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing +Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments +Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, +And, mutually participate, did minister +Unto the appetite and affection common +Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-- + +First Citizen +Well, sir, what answer made the belly? + +MENENIUS +Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile, +Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-- +For, look you, I may make the belly smile +As well as speak--it tauntingly replied +To the discontented members, the mutinous parts +That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +As you malign our senators for that +They are not such as you. + +First Citizen +Your belly's answer? What! +The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye, +The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, +Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter. +With other muniments and petty helps +In this our fabric, if that they-- + +MENENIUS +What then? +'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then? + +First Citizen +Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, +Who is the sink o' the body,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, what then? + +First Citizen +The former agents, if they did complain, +What could the belly answer? + +MENENIUS +I will tell you +If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little-- +Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer. + +First Citizen +Ye're long about it. + +MENENIUS +Note me this, good friend; +Your most grave belly was deliberate, +Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd: +'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he, +'That I receive the general food at first, +Which you do live upon; and fit it is, +Because I am the store-house and the shop +Of the whole body: but, if you do remember, +I send it through the rivers of your blood, +Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain; +And, through the cranks and offices of man, +The strongest nerves and small inferior veins +From me receive that natural competency +Whereby they live: and though that all at once, +You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,-- + +First Citizen +Ay, sir; well, well. + +MENENIUS +'Though all at once cannot +See what I do deliver out to each, +Yet I can make my audit up, that all +From me do back receive the flour of all, +And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't? + +First Citizen +It was an answer: how apply you this? + +MENENIUS +The senators of Rome are this good belly, +And you the mutinous members; for examine +Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly +Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find +No public benefit which you receive +But it proceeds or comes from them to you +And no way from yourselves. What do you think, +You, the great toe of this assembly? + +First Citizen +I the great toe! why the great toe? + +MENENIUS +For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest, +Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: +Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, +Lead'st first to win some vantage. +But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs: +Rome and her rats are at the point of battle; +The one side must have bale. + +Enter CAIUS MARCIUS + +Hail, noble Marcius! + +MARCIUS +Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, +That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, +Make yourselves scabs? + +First Citizen +We have ever your good word. + +MARCIUS +He that will give good words to thee will flatter +Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, +That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, +The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, +Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; +Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, +Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, +Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is +To make him worthy whose offence subdues him +And curse that justice did it. +Who deserves greatness +Deserves your hate; and your affections are +A sick man's appetite, who desires most that +Which would increase his evil. He that depends +Upon your favours swims with fins of lead +And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye? +With every minute you do change a mind, +And call him noble that was now your hate, +Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, +That in these several places of the city +You cry against the noble senate, who, +Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else +Would feed on one another? What's their seeking? + +MENENIUS +For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, +The city is well stored. + +MARCIUS +Hang 'em! They say! +They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know +What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise, +Who thrives and who declines; side factions +and give out +Conjectural marriages; making parties strong +And feebling such as stand not in their liking +Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's +grain enough! +Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, +And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry +With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high +As I could pick my lance. + +MENENIUS +Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; +For though abundantly they lack discretion, +Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, +What says the other troop? + +MARCIUS +They are dissolved: hang 'em! +They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs, +That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, +That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not +Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds +They vented their complainings; which being answer'd, +And a petition granted them, a strange one-- +To break the heart of generosity, +And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps +As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon, +Shouting their emulation. + +MENENIUS +What is granted them? + +MARCIUS +Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, +Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus, +Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath! +The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, +Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time +Win upon power and throw forth greater themes +For insurrection's arguing. + +MENENIUS +This is strange. + +MARCIUS +Go, get you home, you fragments! + +Enter a Messenger, hastily + +Messenger +Where's Caius Marcius? + +MARCIUS +Here: what's the matter? + +Messenger +The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent +Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders. + +Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS + +First Senator +Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us; +The Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +They have a leader, +Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't. +I sin in envying his nobility, +And were I any thing but what I am, +I would wish me only he. + +COMINIUS +You have fought together. + +MARCIUS +Were half to half the world by the ears and he. +Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make +Only my wars with him: he is a lion +That I am proud to hunt. + +First Senator +Then, worthy Marcius, +Attend upon Cominius to these wars. + +COMINIUS +It is your former promise. + +MARCIUS +Sir, it is; +And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou +Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. +What, art thou stiff? stand'st out? + +TITUS +No, Caius Marcius; +I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other, +Ere stay behind this business. + +MENENIUS +O, true-bred! + +First Senator +Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, +Our greatest friends attend us. + +TITUS +[To COMINIUS] Lead you on. + +To MARCIUS + +Right worthy you priority. + +COMINIUS +Noble Marcius! + +First Senator +[To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone! + +MARCIUS +Nay, let them follow: +The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither +To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners, +Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow. + +Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +SICINIUS +Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? + +BRUTUS +He has no equal. + +SICINIUS +When we were chosen tribunes for the people,-- + +BRUTUS +Mark'd you his lip and eyes? + +SICINIUS +Nay. but his taunts. + +BRUTUS +Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods. + +SICINIUS +Be-mock the modest moon. + +BRUTUS +The present wars devour him: he is grown +Too proud to be so valiant. + +SICINIUS +Such a nature, +Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow +Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder +His insolence can brook to be commanded +Under Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Fame, at the which he aims, +In whom already he's well graced, can not +Better be held nor more attain'd than by +A place below the first: for what miscarries +Shall be the general's fault, though he perform +To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure +Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he +Had borne the business!' + +SICINIUS +Besides, if things go well, +Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall +Of his demerits rob Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Come: +Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius. +Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults +To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed +In aught he merit not. + +SICINIUS +Let's hence, and hear +How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, +More than his singularity, he goes +Upon this present action. + +BRUTUS +Lets along. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Corioli. The Senate-house. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators +First Senator +So, your opinion is, Aufidius, +That they of Rome are entered in our counsels +And know how we proceed. + +AUFIDIUS +Is it not yours? +What ever have been thought on in this state, +That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome +Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone +Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think +I have the letter here; yes, here it is. + +Reads + +'They have press'd a power, but it is not known +Whether for east or west: the dearth is great; +The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd, +Cominius, Marcius your old enemy, +Who is of Rome worse hated than of you, +And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, +These three lead on this preparation +Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you: +Consider of it.' + +First Senator +Our army's in the field +We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready +To answer us. + +AUFIDIUS +Nor did you think it folly +To keep your great pretences veil'd till when +They needs must show themselves; which +in the hatching, +It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery. +We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was +To take in many towns ere almost Rome +Should know we were afoot. + +Second Senator +Noble Aufidius, +Take your commission; hie you to your bands: +Let us alone to guard Corioli: +If they set down before 's, for the remove +Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find +They've not prepared for us. + +AUFIDIUS +O, doubt not that; +I speak from certainties. Nay, more, +Some parcels of their power are forth already, +And only hitherward. I leave your honours. +If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet, +'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike +Till one can do no more. + +All +The gods assist you! + +AUFIDIUS +And keep your honours safe! + +First Senator +Farewell. + +Second Senator +Farewell. + +All +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rome. A room in Marcius' house. + +Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA they set them down on two low stools, and sew +VOLUMNIA +I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a +more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I +should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he +won honour than in the embracements of his bed where +he would show most love. When yet he was but +tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when +youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when +for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not +sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering +how honour would become such a person. that it was +no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if +renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek +danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel +war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows +bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not +more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child +than now in first seeing he had proved himself a +man. + +VIRGILIA +But had he died in the business, madam; how then? + +VOLUMNIA +Then his good report should have been my son; I +therein would have found issue. Hear me profess +sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love +alike and none less dear than thine and my good +Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their +country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. + +Enter a Gentlewoman + +Gentlewoman +Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. + +VIRGILIA +Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + +VOLUMNIA +Indeed, you shall not. +Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum, +See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair, +As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him: +Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus: +'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, +Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow +With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes, +Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow +Or all or lose his hire. + +VIRGILIA +His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood! + +VOLUMNIA +Away, you fool! it more becomes a man +Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba, +When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier +Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood +At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria, +We are fit to bid her welcome. + +Exit Gentlewoman + +VIRGILIA +Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + +VOLUMNIA +He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee +And tread upon his neck. + +Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman + +VALERIA +My ladies both, good day to you. + +VOLUMNIA +Sweet madam. + +VIRGILIA +I am glad to see your ladyship. + +VALERIA +How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. +What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good +faith. How does your little son? + +VIRGILIA +I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. + +VOLUMNIA +He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than +look upon his school-master. + +VALERIA +O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a +very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' +Wednesday half an hour together: has such a +confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded +butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go +again; and after it again; and over and over he +comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his +fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his +teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked +it! + +VOLUMNIA +One on 's father's moods. + +VALERIA +Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. + +VIRGILIA +A crack, madam. + +VALERIA +Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play +the idle husewife with me this afternoon. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam; I will not out of doors. + +VALERIA +Not out of doors! + +VOLUMNIA +She shall, she shall. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the +threshold till my lord return from the wars. + +VALERIA +Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, +you must go visit the good lady that lies in. + +VIRGILIA +I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with +my prayers; but I cannot go thither. + +VOLUMNIA +Why, I pray you? + +VIRGILIA +'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. + +VALERIA +You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all +the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill +Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric +were sensible as your finger, that you might leave +pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth. + +VALERIA +In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you +excellent news of your husband. + +VIRGILIA +O, good madam, there can be none yet. + +VALERIA +Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from +him last night. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, madam? + +VALERIA +In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. +Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against +whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of +our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set +down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt +prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true, +on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us. + +VIRGILIA +Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every +thing hereafter. + +VOLUMNIA +Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but +disease our better mirth. + +VALERIA +In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. +Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy +solemness out o' door. and go along with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish +you much mirth. + +VALERIA +Well, then, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Before Corioli. + +Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger +MARCIUS +Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. + +LARTIUS +My horse to yours, no. + +MARCIUS +'Tis done. + +LARTIUS +Agreed. + +MARCIUS +Say, has our general met the enemy? + +Messenger +They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. + +LARTIUS +So, the good horse is mine. + +MARCIUS +I'll buy him of you. + +LARTIUS +No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will +For half a hundred years. Summon the town. + +MARCIUS +How far off lie these armies? + +Messenger +Within this mile and half. + +MARCIUS +Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. +Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, +That we with smoking swords may march from hence, +To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast. + +They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls + +Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? + +First Senator +No, nor a man that fears you less than he, +That's lesser than a little. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! our drums +Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls, +Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates, +Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes; +They'll open of themselves. + +Alarum afar off + +Hark you. far off! +There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes +Amongst your cloven army. + +MARCIUS +O, they are at it! + +LARTIUS +Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! + +Enter the army of the Volsces + +MARCIUS +They fear us not, but issue forth their city. +Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight +With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, +brave Titus: +They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, +Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows: +He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, +And he shall feel mine edge. + +Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing + +MARCIUS +All the contagion of the south light on you, +You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues +Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd +Further than seen and one infect another +Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, +That bear the shapes of men, how have you run +From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! +All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale +With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home, +Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe +And make my wars on you: look to't: come on; +If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, +As they us to our trenches followed. + +Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates + +So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: +'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, +Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. + +Enters the gates + +First Soldier +Fool-hardiness; not I. + +Second Soldier +Nor I. + +MARCIUS is shut in + +First Soldier +See, they have shut him in. + +All +To the pot, I warrant him. + +Alarum continues + +Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS + +LARTIUS +What is become of Marcius? + +All +Slain, sir, doubtless. + +First Soldier +Following the fliers at the very heels, +With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, +Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone, +To answer all the city. + +LARTIUS +O noble fellow! +Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, +And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: +A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, +Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier +Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible +Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and +The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, +Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world +Were feverous and did tremble. + +Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy + +First Soldier +Look, sir. + +LARTIUS +O,'tis Marcius! +Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. + +They fight, and all enter the city + +SCENE V. Corioli. A street. + +Enter certain Romans, with spoils +First Roman +This will I carry to Rome. + +Second Roman +And I this. + +Third Roman +A murrain on't! I took this for silver. + +Alarum continues still afar off + +Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet + +MARCIUS +See here these movers that do prize their hours +At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, +Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would +Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, +Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! +And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! +There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, +Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take +Convenient numbers to make good the city; +Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste +To help Cominius. + +LARTIUS +Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; +Thy exercise hath been too violent for +A second course of fight. + +MARCIUS +Sir, praise me not; +My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well: +The blood I drop is rather physical +Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus +I will appear, and fight. + +LARTIUS +Now the fair goddess, Fortune, +Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms +Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, +Prosperity be thy page! + +MARCIUS +Thy friend no less +Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. + +LARTIUS +Thou worthiest Marcius! + +Exit MARCIUS + +Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; +Call thither all the officers o' the town, +Where they shall know our mind: away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers +COMINIUS +Breathe you, my friends: well fought; +we are come off +Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, +Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, +We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, +By interims and conveying gusts we have heard +The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods! +Lead their successes as we wish our own, +That both our powers, with smiling +fronts encountering, +May give you thankful sacrifice. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy news? + +Messenger +The citizens of Corioli have issued, +And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: +I saw our party to their trenches driven, +And then I came away. + +COMINIUS +Though thou speak'st truth, +Methinks thou speak'st not well. +How long is't since? + +Messenger +Above an hour, my lord. + +COMINIUS +'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: +How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour, +And bring thy news so late? + +Messenger +Spies of the Volsces +Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel +Three or four miles about, else had I, sir, +Half an hour since brought my report. + +COMINIUS +Who's yonder, +That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods +He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have +Before-time seen him thus. + +MARCIUS +[Within] Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour +More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue +From every meaner man. + +Enter MARCIUS + +MARCIUS +Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, +But mantled in your own. + +MARCIUS +O, let me clip ye +In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart +As merry as when our nuptial day was done, +And tapers burn'd to bedward! + +COMINIUS +Flower of warriors, +How is it with Titus Lartius? + +MARCIUS +As with a man busied about decrees: +Condemning some to death, and some to exile; +Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; +Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, +Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, +To let him slip at will. + +COMINIUS +Where is that slave +Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? +Where is he? call him hither. + +MARCIUS +Let him alone; +He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, +The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!-- +The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge +From rascals worse than they. + +COMINIUS +But how prevail'd you? + +MARCIUS +Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. +Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field? +If not, why cease you till you are so? + +COMINIUS +Marcius, +We have at disadvantage fought and did +Retire to win our purpose. + +MARCIUS +How lies their battle? know you on which side +They have placed their men of trust? + +COMINIUS +As I guess, Marcius, +Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates, +Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, +Their very heart of hope. + +MARCIUS +I do beseech you, +By all the battles wherein we have fought, +By the blood we have shed together, by the vows +We have made to endure friends, that you directly +Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates; +And that you not delay the present, but, +Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, +We prove this very hour. + +COMINIUS +Though I could wish +You were conducted to a gentle bath +And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never +Deny your asking: take your choice of those +That best can aid your action. + +MARCIUS +Those are they +That most are willing. If any such be here-- +As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting +Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear +Lesser his person than an ill report; +If any think brave death outweighs bad life +And that his country's dearer than himself; +Let him alone, or so many so minded, +Wave thus, to express his disposition, +And follow Marcius. + +They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps + +O, me alone! make you a sword of me? +If these shows be not outward, which of you +But is four Volsces? none of you but is +Able to bear against the great Aufidius +A shield as hard as his. A certain number, +Though thanks to all, must I select +from all: the rest +Shall bear the business in some other fight, +As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; +And four shall quickly draw out my command, +Which men are best inclined. + +COMINIUS +March on, my fellows: +Make good this ostentation, and you shall +Divide in all with us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The gates of Corioli. + +TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout +LARTIUS +So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties, +As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch +Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve +For a short holding: if we lose the field, +We cannot keep the town. + +Lieutenant +Fear not our care, sir. + +LARTIUS +Hence, and shut your gates upon's. +Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A field of battle. + +Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS +MARCIUS +I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee +Worse than a promise-breaker. + +AUFIDIUS +We hate alike: +Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor +More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. + +MARCIUS +Let the first budger die the other's slave, +And the gods doom him after! + +AUFIDIUS +If I fly, Marcius, +Holloa me like a hare. + +MARCIUS +Within these three hours, Tullus, +Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, +And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood +Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge +Wrench up thy power to the highest. + +AUFIDIUS +Wert thou the Hector +That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, +Thou shouldst not scape me here. + +They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in breathless + +Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me +In your condemned seconds. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. The Roman camp. + +Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf +COMINIUS +If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, +Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it +Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles, +Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, +I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted, +And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the +dull tribunes, +That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, +Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods +Our Rome hath such a soldier.' +Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, +Having fully dined before. + +Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit + +LARTIUS +O general, +Here is the steed, we the caparison: +Hadst thou beheld-- + +MARCIUS +Pray now, no more: my mother, +Who has a charter to extol her blood, +When she does praise me grieves me. I have done +As you have done; that's what I can; induced +As you have been; that's for my country: +He that has but effected his good will +Hath overta'en mine act. + +COMINIUS +You shall not be +The grave of your deserving; Rome must know +The value of her own: 'twere a concealment +Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, +To hide your doings; and to silence that, +Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, +Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you +In sign of what you are, not to reward +What you have done--before our army hear me. + +MARCIUS +I have some wounds upon me, and they smart +To hear themselves remember'd. + +COMINIUS +Should they not, +Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, +And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, +Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all +The treasure in this field achieved and city, +We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth, +Before the common distribution, at +Your only choice. + +MARCIUS +I thank you, general; +But cannot make my heart consent to take +A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it; +And stand upon my common part with those +That have beheld the doing. + +A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!' cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare + +MARCIUS +May these same instruments, which you profane, +Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall +I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be +Made all of false-faced soothing! +When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, +Let him be made a coverture for the wars! +No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd +My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.-- +Which, without note, here's many else have done,-- +You shout me forth +In acclamations hyperbolical; +As if I loved my little should be dieted +In praises sauced with lies. + +COMINIUS +Too modest are you; +More cruel to your good report than grateful +To us that give you truly: by your patience, +If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, +Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, +Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, +As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius +Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, +My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, +With all his trim belonging; and from this time, +For what he did before Corioli, call him, +With all the applause and clamour of the host, +CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear +The addition nobly ever! + +Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums + +All +Caius Marcius Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +I will go wash; +And when my face is fair, you shall perceive +Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you. +I mean to stride your steed, and at all times +To undercrest your good addition +To the fairness of my power. + +COMINIUS +So, to our tent; +Where, ere we do repose us, we will write +To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, +Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome +The best, with whom we may articulate, +For their own good and ours. + +LARTIUS +I shall, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +The gods begin to mock me. I, that now +Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg +Of my lord general. + +COMINIUS +Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? + +CORIOLANUS +I sometime lay here in Corioli +At a poor man's house; he used me kindly: +He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; +But then Aufidius was with in my view, +And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you +To give my poor host freedom. + +COMINIUS +O, well begg'd! +Were he the butcher of my son, he should +Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. + +LARTIUS +Marcius, his name? + +CORIOLANUS +By Jupiter! forgot. +I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. +Have we no wine here? + +COMINIUS +Go we to our tent: +The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time +It should be look'd to: come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces. + +A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers +AUFIDIUS +The town is ta'en! + +First Soldier +'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. + +AUFIDIUS +Condition! +I would I were a Roman; for I cannot, +Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition! +What good condition can a treaty find +I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, +I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me, +And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter +As often as we eat. By the elements, +If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, +He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation +Hath not that honour in't it had; for where +I thought to crush him in an equal force, +True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way +Or wrath or craft may get him. + +First Soldier +He's the devil. + +AUFIDIUS +Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd +With only suffering stain by him; for him +Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary, +Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, +The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, +Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up +Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst +My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it +At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, +Against the hospitable canon, would I +Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city; +Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must +Be hostages for Rome. + +First Soldier +Will not you go? + +AUFIDIUS +I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you-- +'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither +How the world goes, that to the pace of it +I may spur on my journey. + +First Soldier +I shall, sir. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. +MENENIUS +The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. + +BRUTUS +Good or bad? + +MENENIUS +Not according to the prayer of the people, for they +love not Marcius. + +SICINIUS +Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, who does the wolf love? + +SICINIUS +The lamb. + +MENENIUS +Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the +noble Marcius. + +BRUTUS +He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. + +MENENIUS +He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two +are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. + +Both +Well, sir. + +MENENIUS +In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two +have not in abundance? + +BRUTUS +He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. + +SICINIUS +Especially in pride. + +BRUTUS +And topping all others in boasting. + +MENENIUS +This is strange now: do you two know how you are +censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the +right-hand file? do you? + +Both +Why, how are we censured? + +MENENIUS +Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? + +Both +Well, well, sir, well. + +MENENIUS +Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of +occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: +give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at +your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a +pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for +being proud? + +BRUTUS +We do it not alone, sir. + +MENENIUS +I know you can do very little alone; for your helps +are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous +single: your abilities are too infant-like for +doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you +could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, +and make but an interior survey of your good selves! +O that you could! + +BRUTUS +What then, sir? + +MENENIUS +Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, +proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as +any in Rome. + +SICINIUS +Menenius, you are known well enough too. + +MENENIUS +I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that +loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying +Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in +favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like +upon too trivial motion; one that converses more +with the buttock of the night than with the forehead +of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my +malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as +you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink +you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a +crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have +delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in +compound with the major part of your syllables: and +though I must be content to bear with those that say +you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that +tell you you have good faces. If you see this in +the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known +well enough too? what barm can your bisson +conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be +known well enough too? + +BRUTUS +Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. + +MENENIUS +You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You +are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you +wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a +cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; +and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a +second day of audience. When you are hearing a +matter between party and party, if you chance to be +pinched with the colic, you make faces like +mummers; set up the bloody flag against all +patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, +dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled +by your hearing: all the peace you make in their +cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are +a pair of strange ones. + +BRUTUS +Come, come, you are well understood to be a +perfecter giber for the table than a necessary +bencher in the Capitol. + +MENENIUS +Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall +encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When +you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the +wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not +so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's +cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack- +saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; +who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors +since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the +best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to +your worships: more of your conversation would +infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly +plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you. + +BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA + +How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon, +were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow +your eyes so fast? + +VOLUMNIA +Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for +the love of Juno, let's go. + +MENENIUS +Ha! Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous +approbation. + +MENENIUS +Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! +Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA VIRGILIA +Nay,'tis true. + +VOLUMNIA +Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath +another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one +at home for you. + +MENENIUS +I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for +me! + +VIRGILIA +Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. + +MENENIUS +A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven +years' health; in which time I will make a lip at +the physician: the most sovereign prescription in +Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, +of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he +not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. + +VIRGILIA +O, no, no, no. + +VOLUMNIA +O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. + +MENENIUS +So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' +victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. + +VOLUMNIA +On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home +with the oaken garland. + +MENENIUS +Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? + +VOLUMNIA +Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but +Aufidius got off. + +MENENIUS +And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: +an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so +fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold +that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? + +VOLUMNIA +Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate +has letters from the general, wherein he gives my +son the whole name of the war: he hath in this +action outdone his former deeds doubly + +VALERIA +In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. + +MENENIUS +Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his +true purchasing. + +VIRGILIA +The gods grant them true! + +VOLUMNIA +True! pow, wow. + +MENENIUS +True! I'll be sworn they are true. +Where is he wounded? + +To the Tribunes + +God save your good worships! Marcius is coming +home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? + +VOLUMNIA +I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be +large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall +stand for his place. He received in the repulse of +Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. + +MENENIUS +One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's +nine that I know. + +VOLUMNIA +He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five +wounds upon him. + +MENENIUS +Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. + +A shout and flourish + +Hark! the trumpets. + +VOLUMNIA +These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he +carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: +Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; +Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. + +A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald + +Herald +Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight +Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, +With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these +In honour follows Coriolanus. +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +Flourish + +All +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +No more of this; it does offend my heart: +Pray now, no more. + +COMINIUS +Look, sir, your mother! + +CORIOLANUS +O, +You have, I know, petition'd all the gods +For my prosperity! + +Kneels + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, my good soldier, up; +My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and +By deed-achieving honour newly named,-- +What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?-- +But O, thy wife! + +CORIOLANUS +My gracious silence, hail! +Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, +That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, +Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, +And mothers that lack sons. + +MENENIUS +Now, the gods crown thee! + +CORIOLANUS +And live you yet? + +To VALERIA + +O my sweet lady, pardon. + +VOLUMNIA +I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: +And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all. + +MENENIUS +A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep +And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome. +A curse begin at very root on's heart, +That is not glad to see thee! You are three +That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, +We have some old crab-trees here +at home that will not +Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: +We call a nettle but a nettle and +The faults of fools but folly. + +COMINIUS +Ever right. + +CORIOLANUS +Menenius ever, ever. + +Herald +Give way there, and go on! + +CORIOLANUS +[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours: +Ere in our own house I do shade my head, +The good patricians must be visited; +From whom I have received not only greetings, +But with them change of honours. + +VOLUMNIA +I have lived +To see inherited my very wishes +And the buildings of my fancy: only +There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but +Our Rome will cast upon thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Know, good mother, +I had rather be their servant in my way, +Than sway with them in theirs. + +COMINIUS +On, to the Capitol! + +Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward + +BRUTUS +All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights +Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse +Into a rapture lets her baby cry +While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins +Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, +Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, +Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed +With variable complexions, all agreeing +In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens +Do press among the popular throngs and puff +To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames +Commit the war of white and damask in +Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil +Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother +As if that whatsoever god who leads him +Were slily crept into his human powers +And gave him graceful posture. + +SICINIUS +On the sudden, +I warrant him consul. + +BRUTUS +Then our office may, +During his power, go sleep. + +SICINIUS +He cannot temperately transport his honours +From where he should begin and end, but will +Lose those he hath won. + +BRUTUS +In that there's comfort. + +SICINIUS +Doubt not +The commoners, for whom we stand, but they +Upon their ancient malice will forget +With the least cause these his new honours, which +That he will give them make I as little question +As he is proud to do't. + +BRUTUS +I heard him swear, +Were he to stand for consul, never would he +Appear i' the market-place nor on him put +The napless vesture of humility; +Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds +To the people, beg their stinking breaths. + +SICINIUS +'Tis right. + +BRUTUS +It was his word: O, he would miss it rather +Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, +And the desire of the nobles. + +SICINIUS +I wish no better +Than have him hold that purpose and to put it +In execution. + +BRUTUS +'Tis most like he will. + +SICINIUS +It shall be to him then as our good wills, +A sure destruction. + +BRUTUS +So it must fall out +To him or our authorities. For an end, +We must suggest the people in what hatred +He still hath held them; that to's power he would +Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and +Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, +In human action and capacity, +Of no more soul nor fitness for the world +Than camels in the war, who have their provand +Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows +For sinking under them. + +SICINIUS +This, as you say, suggested +At some time when his soaring insolence +Shall touch the people--which time shall not want, +If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy +As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire +To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze +Shall darken him for ever. + +Enter a Messenger + +BRUTUS +What's the matter? + +Messenger +You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought +That Marcius shall be consul: +I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and +The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, +Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, +Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, +As to Jove's statue, and the commons made +A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts: +I never saw the like. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol; +And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, +But hearts for the event. + +SICINIUS +Have with you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Capitol. + +Enter two Officers, to lay cushions +First Officer +Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand +for consulships? + +Second Officer +Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one +Coriolanus will carry it. + +First Officer +That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and +loves not the common people. + +Second Officer +Faith, there had been many great men that have +flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there +be many that they have loved, they know not +wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, +they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for +Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate +him manifests the true knowledge he has in their +disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets +them plainly see't. + +First Officer +If he did not care whether he had their love or no, +he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither +good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater +devotion than can render it him; and leaves +nothing undone that may fully discover him their +opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and +displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he +dislikes, to flatter them for their love. + +Second Officer +He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his +ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, +having been supple and courteous to the people, +bonneted, without any further deed to have them at +an into their estimation and report: but he hath so +planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions +in their hearts, that for their tongues to be +silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of +ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a +malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck +reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it. + +First Officer +No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they +are coming. + +A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their places; the Tribunes take their Places by themselves. CORIOLANUS stands + +MENENIUS +Having determined of the Volsces and +To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, +As the main point of this our after-meeting, +To gratify his noble service that +Hath thus stood for his country: therefore, +please you, +Most reverend and grave elders, to desire +The present consul, and last general +In our well-found successes, to report +A little of that worthy work perform'd +By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom +We met here both to thank and to remember +With honours like himself. + +First Senator +Speak, good Cominius: +Leave nothing out for length, and make us think +Rather our state's defective for requital +Than we to stretch it out. + +To the Tribunes + +Masters o' the people, +We do request your kindest ears, and after, +Your loving motion toward the common body, +To yield what passes here. + +SICINIUS +We are convented +Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts +Inclinable to honour and advance +The theme of our assembly. + +BRUTUS +Which the rather +We shall be blest to do, if he remember +A kinder value of the people than +He hath hereto prized them at. + +MENENIUS +That's off, that's off; +I would you rather had been silent. Please you +To hear Cominius speak? + +BRUTUS +Most willingly; +But yet my caution was more pertinent +Than the rebuke you give it. + +MENENIUS +He loves your people +But tie him not to be their bedfellow. +Worthy Cominius, speak. + +CORIOLANUS offers to go away + +Nay, keep your place. + +First Senator +Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear +What you have nobly done. + +CORIOLANUS +Your horror's pardon: +I had rather have my wounds to heal again +Than hear say how I got them. + +BRUTUS +Sir, I hope +My words disbench'd you not. + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir: yet oft, +When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. +You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but +your people, +I love them as they weigh. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, sit down. + +CORIOLANUS +I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun +When the alarum were struck than idly sit +To hear my nothings monster'd. + +Exit + +MENENIUS +Masters of the people, +Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-- +That's thousand to one good one--when you now see +He had rather venture all his limbs for honour +Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus +Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held +That valour is the chiefest virtue, and +Most dignifies the haver: if it be, +The man I speak of cannot in the world +Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, +When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought +Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator, +Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight, +When with his Amazonian chin he drove +The bristled lips before him: be bestrid +An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view +Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met, +And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats, +When he might act the woman in the scene, +He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed +Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age +Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea, +And in the brunt of seventeen battles since +He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, +Before and in Corioli, let me say, +I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; +And by his rare example made the coward +Turn terror into sport: as weeds before +A vessel under sail, so men obey'd +And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, +Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot +He was a thing of blood, whose every motion +Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd +The mortal gate of the city, which he painted +With shunless destiny; aidless came off, +And with a sudden reinforcement struck +Corioli like a planet: now all's his: +When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce +His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit +Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, +And to the battle came he; where he did +Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if +'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd +Both field and city ours, he never stood +To ease his breast with panting. + +MENENIUS +Worthy man! + +First Senator +He cannot but with measure fit the honours +Which we devise him. + +COMINIUS +Our spoils he kick'd at, +And look'd upon things precious as they were +The common muck of the world: he covets less +Than misery itself would give; rewards +His deeds with doing them, and is content +To spend the time to end it. + +MENENIUS +He's right noble: +Let him be call'd for. + +First Senator +Call Coriolanus. + +Officer +He doth appear. + +Re-enter CORIOLANUS + +MENENIUS +The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased +To make thee consul. + +CORIOLANUS +I do owe them still +My life and services. + +MENENIUS +It then remains +That you do speak to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +I do beseech you, +Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot +Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them, +For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you +That I may pass this doing. + +SICINIUS +Sir, the people +Must have their voices; neither will they bate +One jot of ceremony. + +MENENIUS +Put them not to't: +Pray you, go fit you to the custom and +Take to you, as your predecessors have, +Your honour with your form. + +CORIOLANUS +It is apart +That I shall blush in acting, and might well +Be taken from the people. + +BRUTUS +Mark you that? + +CORIOLANUS +To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus; +Show them the unaching scars which I should hide, +As if I had received them for the hire +Of their breath only! + +MENENIUS +Do not stand upon't. +We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, +Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul +Wish we all joy and honour. + +Senators +To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! + +Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +BRUTUS +You see how he intends to use the people. + +SICINIUS +May they perceive's intent! He will require them, +As if he did contemn what he requested +Should be in them to give. + +BRUTUS +Come, we'll inform them +Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace, +I know, they do attend us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter seven or eight Citizens +First Citizen +Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. + +Second Citizen +We may, sir, if we will. + +Third Citizen +We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a +power that we have no power to do; for if he show us +his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our +tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if +he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him +our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is +monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful, +were to make a monster of the multitude: of the +which we being members, should bring ourselves to be +monstrous members. + +First Citizen +And to make us no better thought of, a little help +will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he +himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude. + +Third Citizen +We have been called so of many; not that our heads +are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, +but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and +truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of +one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, +and their consent of one direct way should be at +once to all the points o' the compass. + +Second Citizen +Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would +fly? + +Third Citizen +Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's +will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but +if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward. + +Second Citizen +Why that way? + +Third Citizen +To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts +melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return +for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife. + +Second Citizen +You are never without your tricks: you may, you may. + +Third Citizen +Are you all resolved to give your voices? But +that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I +say, if he would incline to the people, there was +never a worthier man. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility, with MENENIUS + +Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his +behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to +come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and +by threes. He's to make his requests by +particulars; wherein every one of us has a single +honour, in giving him our own voices with our own +tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how +you shall go by him. + +All +Content, content. + +Exeunt Citizens + +MENENIUS +O sir, you are not right: have you not known +The worthiest men have done't? + +CORIOLANUS +What must I say? +'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring +My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds! +I got them in my country's service, when +Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran +From the noise of our own drums.' + +MENENIUS +O me, the gods! +You must not speak of that: you must desire them +To think upon you. + +CORIOLANUS +Think upon me! hang 'em! +I would they would forget me, like the virtues +Which our divines lose by 'em. + +MENENIUS +You'll mar all: +I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, +In wholesome manner. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +Bid them wash their faces +And keep their teeth clean. + +Re-enter two of the Citizens + +So, here comes a brace. + +Re-enter a third Citizen + +You know the cause, air, of my standing here. + +Third Citizen +We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't. + +CORIOLANUS +Mine own desert. + +Second Citizen +Your own desert! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, but not mine own desire. + +Third Citizen +How not your own desire? + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the +poor with begging. + +Third Citizen +You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to +gain by you. + +CORIOLANUS +Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship? + +First Citizen +The price is to ask it kindly. + +CORIOLANUS +Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to +show you, which shall be yours in private. Your +good voice, sir; what say you? + +Second Citizen +You shall ha' it, worthy sir. + +CORIOLANUS +A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices +begged. I have your alms: adieu. + +Third Citizen +But this is something odd. + +Second Citizen +An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter. + +Exeunt the three Citizens + +Re-enter two other Citizens + +CORIOLANUS +Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your +voices that I may be consul, I have here the +customary gown. + +Fourth Citizen +You have deserved nobly of your country, and you +have not deserved nobly. + +CORIOLANUS +Your enigma? + +Fourth Citizen +You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have +been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved +the common people. + +CORIOLANUS +You should account me the more virtuous that I have +not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my +sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer +estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account +gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is +rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise +the insinuating nod and be off to them most +counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the +bewitchment of some popular man and give it +bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, +I may be consul. + +Fifth Citizen +We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give +you our voices heartily. + +Fourth Citizen +You have received many wounds for your country. + +CORIOLANUS +I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I +will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further. + +Both Citizens +The gods give you joy, sir, heartily! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Most sweet voices! +Better it is to die, better to starve, +Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. +Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here, +To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, +Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't: +What custom wills, in all things should we do't, +The dust on antique time would lie unswept, +And mountainous error be too highly heapt +For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so, +Let the high office and the honour go +To one that would do thus. I am half through; +The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. + +Re-enter three Citizens more + +Here come more voices. +Your voices: for your voices I have fought; +Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear +Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six +I have seen and heard of; for your voices have +Done many things, some less, some more your voices: +Indeed I would be consul. + +Sixth Citizen +He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest +man's voice. + +Seventh Citizen +Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy, +and make him good friend to the people! + +All Citizens +Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Worthy voices! + +Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS + +MENENIUS +You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes +Endue you with the people's voice: remains +That, in the official marks invested, you +Anon do meet the senate. + +CORIOLANUS +Is this done? + +SICINIUS +The custom of request you have discharged: +The people do admit you, and are summon'd +To meet anon, upon your approbation. + +CORIOLANUS +Where? at the senate-house? + +SICINIUS +There, Coriolanus. + +CORIOLANUS +May I change these garments? + +SICINIUS +You may, sir. + +CORIOLANUS +That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again, +Repair to the senate-house. + +MENENIUS +I'll keep you company. Will you along? + +BRUTUS +We stay here for the people. + +SICINIUS +Fare you well. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS + +He has it now, and by his looks methink +'Tis warm at 's heart. + +BRUTUS +With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds. +will you dismiss the people? + +Re-enter Citizens + +SICINIUS +How now, my masters! have you chose this man? + +First Citizen +He has our voices, sir. + +BRUTUS +We pray the gods he may deserve your loves. + +Second Citizen +Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice, +He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices. + +Third Citizen +Certainly +He flouted us downright. + +First Citizen +No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us. + +Second Citizen +Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says +He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us +His marks of merit, wounds received for's country. + +SICINIUS +Why, so he did, I am sure. + +Citizens +No, no; no man saw 'em. + +Third Citizen +He said he had wounds, which he could show +in private; +And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, +'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom, +But by your voices, will not so permit me; +Your voices therefore.' When we granted that, +Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you: +Your most sweet voices: now you have left +your voices, +I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery? + +SICINIUS +Why either were you ignorant to see't, +Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness +To yield your voices? + +BRUTUS +Could you not have told him +As you were lesson'd, when he had no power, +But was a petty servant to the state, +He was your enemy, ever spake against +Your liberties and the charters that you bear +I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving +A place of potency and sway o' the state, +If he should still malignantly remain +Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might +Be curses to yourselves? You should have said +That as his worthy deeds did claim no less +Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature +Would think upon you for your voices and +Translate his malice towards you into love, +Standing your friendly lord. + +SICINIUS +Thus to have said, +As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit +And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd +Either his gracious promise, which you might, +As cause had call'd you up, have held him to +Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature, +Which easily endures not article +Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage, +You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler +And pass'd him unelected. + +BRUTUS +Did you perceive +He did solicit you in free contempt +When he did need your loves, and do you think +That his contempt shall not be bruising to you, +When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies +No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry +Against the rectorship of judgment? + +SICINIUS +Have you +Ere now denied the asker? and now again +Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow +Your sued-for tongues? + +Third Citizen +He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet. + +Second Citizen +And will deny him: +I'll have five hundred voices of that sound. + +First Citizen +I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em. + +BRUTUS +Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends, +They have chose a consul that will from them take +Their liberties; make them of no more voice +Than dogs that are as often beat for barking +As therefore kept to do so. + +SICINIUS +Let them assemble, +And on a safer judgment all revoke +Your ignorant election; enforce his pride, +And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not +With what contempt he wore the humble weed, +How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves, +Thinking upon his services, took from you +The apprehension of his present portance, +Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion +After the inveterate hate he bears you. + +BRUTUS +Lay +A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured, +No impediment between, but that you must +Cast your election on him. + +SICINIUS +Say, you chose him +More after our commandment than as guided +By your own true affections, and that your minds, +Preoccupied with what you rather must do +Than what you should, made you against the grain +To voice him consul: lay the fault on us. + +BRUTUS +Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you. +How youngly he began to serve his country, +How long continued, and what stock he springs of, +The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came +That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son, +Who, after great Hostilius, here was king; +Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, +That our beat water brought by conduits hither; +And [Censorinus,] nobly named so, +Twice being [by the people chosen] censor, +Was his great ancestor. + +SICINIUS +One thus descended, +That hath beside well in his person wrought +To be set high in place, we did commend +To your remembrances: but you have found, +Scaling his present bearing with his past, +That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke +Your sudden approbation. + +BRUTUS +Say, you ne'er had done't-- +Harp on that still--but by our putting on; +And presently, when you have drawn your number, +Repair to the Capitol. + +All +We will so: almost all +Repent in their election. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +Let them go on; +This mutiny were better put in hazard, +Than stay, past doubt, for greater: +If, as his nature is, he fall in rage +With their refusal, both observe and answer +The vantage of his anger. + +SICINIUS +To the Capitol, come: +We will be there before the stream o' the people; +And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, +Which we have goaded onward. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators +CORIOLANUS +Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? + +LARTIUS +He had, my lord; and that it was which caused +Our swifter composition. + +CORIOLANUS +So then the Volsces stand but as at first, +Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road. +Upon's again. + +COMINIUS +They are worn, lord consul, so, +That we shall hardly in our ages see +Their banners wave again. + +CORIOLANUS +Saw you Aufidius? + +LARTIUS +On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse +Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely +Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +Spoke he of me? + +LARTIUS +He did, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +How? what? + +LARTIUS +How often he had met you, sword to sword; +That of all things upon the earth he hated +Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes +To hopeless restitution, so he might +Be call'd your vanquisher. + +CORIOLANUS +At Antium lives he? + +LARTIUS +At Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +I wish I had a cause to seek him there, +To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, +The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them; +For they do prank them in authority, +Against all noble sufferance. + +SICINIUS +Pass no further. + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! what is that? + +BRUTUS +It will be dangerous to go on: no further. + +CORIOLANUS +What makes this change? + +MENENIUS +The matter? + +COMINIUS +Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common? + +BRUTUS +Cominius, no. + +CORIOLANUS +Have I had children's voices? + +First Senator +Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place. + +BRUTUS +The people are incensed against him. + +SICINIUS +Stop, +Or all will fall in broil. + +CORIOLANUS +Are these your herd? +Must these have voices, that can yield them now +And straight disclaim their tongues? What are +your offices? +You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? +Have you not set them on? + +MENENIUS +Be calm, be calm. + +CORIOLANUS +It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, +To curb the will of the nobility: +Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule +Nor ever will be ruled. + +BRUTUS +Call't not a plot: +The people cry you mock'd them, and of late, +When corn was given them gratis, you repined; +Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them +Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. + +CORIOLANUS +Why, this was known before. + +BRUTUS +Not to them all. + +CORIOLANUS +Have you inform'd them sithence? + +BRUTUS +How! I inform them! + +CORIOLANUS +You are like to do such business. + +BRUTUS +Not unlike, +Each way, to better yours. + +CORIOLANUS +Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, +Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me +Your fellow tribune. + +SICINIUS +You show too much of that +For which the people stir: if you will pass +To where you are bound, you must inquire your way, +Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, +Or never be so noble as a consul, +Nor yoke with him for tribune. + +MENENIUS +Let's be calm. + +COMINIUS +The people are abused; set on. This paltering +Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus +Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely +I' the plain way of his merit. + +CORIOLANUS +Tell me of corn! +This was my speech, and I will speak't again-- + +MENENIUS +Not now, not now. + +First Senator +Not in this heat, sir, now. + +CORIOLANUS +Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, +I crave their pardons: +For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them +Regard me as I do not flatter, and +Therein behold themselves: I say again, +In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate +The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, +Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, +and scatter'd, +By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, +Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that +Which they have given to beggars. + +MENENIUS +Well, no more. + +First Senator +No more words, we beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +How! no more! +As for my country I have shed my blood, +Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs +Coin words till their decay against those measles, +Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought +The very way to catch them. + +BRUTUS +You speak o' the people, +As if you were a god to punish, not +A man of their infirmity. + +SICINIUS +'Twere well +We let the people know't. + +MENENIUS +What, what? his choler? + +CORIOLANUS +Choler! +Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, +By Jove, 'twould be my mind! + +SICINIUS +It is a mind +That shall remain a poison where it is, +Not poison any further. + +CORIOLANUS +Shall remain! +Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you +His absolute 'shall'? + +COMINIUS +'Twas from the canon. + +CORIOLANUS +'Shall'! +O good but most unwise patricians! why, +You grave but reckless senators, have you thus +Given Hydra here to choose an officer, +That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but +The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit +To say he'll turn your current in a ditch, +And make your channel his? If he have power +Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake +Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd, +Be not as common fools; if you are not, +Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, +If they be senators: and they are no less, +When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste +Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, +And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,' +His popular 'shall' against a graver bench +Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself! +It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches +To know, when two authorities are up, +Neither supreme, how soon confusion +May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take +The one by the other. + +COMINIUS +Well, on to the market-place. + +CORIOLANUS +Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth +The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used +Sometime in Greece,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, well, no more of that. + +CORIOLANUS +Though there the people had more absolute power, +I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed +The ruin of the state. + +BRUTUS +Why, shall the people give +One that speaks thus their voice? + +CORIOLANUS +I'll give my reasons, +More worthier than their voices. They know the corn +Was not our recompense, resting well assured +That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war, +Even when the navel of the state was touch'd, +They would not thread the gates. This kind of service +Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war +Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd +Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation +Which they have often made against the senate, +All cause unborn, could never be the motive +Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? +How shall this bisson multitude digest +The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express +What's like to be their words: 'we did request it; +We are the greater poll, and in true fear +They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase +The nature of our seats and make the rabble +Call our cares fears; which will in time +Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in +The crows to peck the eagles. + +MENENIUS +Come, enough. + +BRUTUS +Enough, with over-measure. + +CORIOLANUS +No, take more: +What may be sworn by, both divine and human, +Seal what I end withal! This double worship, +Where one part does disdain with cause, the other +Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom, +Cannot conclude but by the yea and no +Of general ignorance,--it must omit +Real necessities, and give way the while +To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd, +it follows, +Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,-- +You that will be less fearful than discreet, +That love the fundamental part of state +More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer +A noble life before a long, and wish +To jump a body with a dangerous physic +That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out +The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick +The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour +Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state +Of that integrity which should become't, +Not having the power to do the good it would, +For the in which doth control't. + +BRUTUS +Has said enough. + +SICINIUS +Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer +As traitors do. + +CORIOLANUS +Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! +What should the people do with these bald tribunes? +On whom depending, their obedience fails +To the greater bench: in a rebellion, +When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, +Then were they chosen: in a better hour, +Let what is meet be said it must be meet, +And throw their power i' the dust. + +BRUTUS +Manifest treason! + +SICINIUS +This a consul? no. + +BRUTUS +The aediles, ho! + +Enter an AEdile + +Let him be apprehended. + +SICINIUS +Go, call the people: + +Exit AEdile + +in whose name myself +Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, +A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee, +And follow to thine answer. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, old goat! +Senators, & C We'll surety him. + +COMINIUS +Aged sir, hands off. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones +Out of thy garments. + +SICINIUS +Help, ye citizens! + +Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the AEdiles + +MENENIUS +On both sides more respect. + +SICINIUS +Here's he that would take from you all your power. + +BRUTUS +Seize him, AEdiles! + +Citizens +Down with him! down with him! +Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons! + +They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying + +'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!' +'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!' +'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!' + +MENENIUS +What is about to be? I am out of breath; +Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes +To the people! Coriolanus, patience! +Speak, good Sicinius. + +SICINIUS +Hear me, people; peace! + +Citizens +Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak. + +SICINIUS +You are at point to lose your liberties: +Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, +Whom late you have named for consul. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! +This is the way to kindle, not to quench. + +First Senator +To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. + +SICINIUS +What is the city but the people? + +Citizens +True, +The people are the city. + +BRUTUS +By the consent of all, we were establish'd +The people's magistrates. + +Citizens +You so remain. + +MENENIUS +And so are like to do. + +COMINIUS +That is the way to lay the city flat; +To bring the roof to the foundation, +And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, +In heaps and piles of ruin. + +SICINIUS +This deserves death. + +BRUTUS +Or let us stand to our authority, +Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, +Upon the part o' the people, in whose power +We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy +Of present death. + +SICINIUS +Therefore lay hold of him; +Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence +Into destruction cast him. + +BRUTUS +AEdiles, seize him! + +Citizens +Yield, Marcius, yield! + +MENENIUS +Hear me one word; +Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. + +AEdile +Peace, peace! + +MENENIUS +[To BRUTUS] Be that you seem, truly your +country's friend, +And temperately proceed to what you would +Thus violently redress. + +BRUTUS +Sir, those cold ways, +That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous +Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him, +And bear him to the rock. + +CORIOLANUS +No, I'll die here. + +Drawing his sword + +There's some among you have beheld me fighting: +Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. + +MENENIUS +Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile. + +BRUTUS +Lay hands upon him. + +COMINIUS +Help Marcius, help, +You that be noble; help him, young and old! + +Citizens +Down with him, down with him! + +In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the People, are beat in + +MENENIUS +Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! +All will be naught else. + +Second Senator +Get you gone. + +COMINIUS +Stand fast; +We have as many friends as enemies. + +MENENIUS +Sham it be put to that? + +First Senator +The gods forbid! +I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; +Leave us to cure this cause. + +MENENIUS +For 'tis a sore upon us, +You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you. + +COMINIUS +Come, sir, along with us. + +CORIOLANUS +I would they were barbarians--as they are, +Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not, +Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol-- + +MENENIUS +Be gone; +Put not your worthy rage into your tongue; +One time will owe another. + +CORIOLANUS +On fair ground +I could beat forty of them. + +COMINIUS +I could myself +Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the +two tribunes: +But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; +And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands +Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, +Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend +Like interrupted waters and o'erbear +What they are used to bear. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, be gone: +I'll try whether my old wit be in request +With those that have but little: this must be patch'd +With cloth of any colour. + +COMINIUS +Nay, come away. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others + +A Patrician +This man has marr'd his fortune. + +MENENIUS +His nature is too noble for the world: +He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, +Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: +What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; +And, being angry, does forget that ever +He heard the name of death. + +A noise within + +Here's goodly work! + +Second Patrician +I would they were abed! + +MENENIUS +I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance! +Could he not speak 'em fair? + +Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble + +SICINIUS +Where is this viper +That would depopulate the city and +Be every man himself? + +MENENIUS +You worthy tribunes,-- + +SICINIUS +He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock +With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law, +And therefore law shall scorn him further trial +Than the severity of the public power +Which he so sets at nought. + +First Citizen +He shall well know +The noble tribunes are the people's mouths, +And we their hands. + +Citizens +He shall, sure on't. + +MENENIUS +Sir, sir,-- + +SICINIUS +Peace! + +MENENIUS +Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt +With modest warrant. + +SICINIUS +Sir, how comes't that you +Have holp to make this rescue? + +MENENIUS +Hear me speak: +As I do know the consul's worthiness, +So can I name his faults,-- + +SICINIUS +Consul! what consul? + +MENENIUS +The consul Coriolanus. + +BRUTUS +He consul! + +Citizens +No, no, no, no, no. + +MENENIUS +If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, +I may be heard, I would crave a word or two; +The which shall turn you to no further harm +Than so much loss of time. + +SICINIUS +Speak briefly then; +For we are peremptory to dispatch +This viperous traitor: to eject him hence +Were but one danger, and to keep him here +Our certain death: therefore it is decreed +He dies to-night. + +MENENIUS +Now the good gods forbid +That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude +Towards her deserved children is enroll'd +In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam +Should now eat up her own! + +SICINIUS +He's a disease that must be cut away. + +MENENIUS +O, he's a limb that has but a disease; +Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. +What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? +Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-- +Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, +By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country; +And what is left, to lose it by his country, +Were to us all, that do't and suffer it, +A brand to the end o' the world. + +SICINIUS +This is clean kam. + +BRUTUS +Merely awry: when he did love his country, +It honour'd him. + +MENENIUS +The service of the foot +Being once gangrened, is not then respected +For what before it was. + +BRUTUS +We'll hear no more. +Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence: +Lest his infection, being of catching nature, +Spread further. + +MENENIUS +One word more, one word. +This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find +The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late +Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process; +Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out, +And sack great Rome with Romans. + +BRUTUS +If it were so,-- + +SICINIUS +What do ye talk? +Have we not had a taste of his obedience? +Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come. + +MENENIUS +Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars +Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd +In bolted language; meal and bran together +He throws without distinction. Give me leave, +I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him +Where he shall answer, by a lawful form, +In peace, to his utmost peril. + +First Senator +Noble tribunes, +It is the humane way: the other course +Will prove too bloody, and the end of it +Unknown to the beginning. + +SICINIUS +Noble Menenius, +Be you then as the people's officer. +Masters, lay down your weapons. + +BRUTUS +Go not home. + +SICINIUS +Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there: +Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed +In our first way. + +MENENIUS +I'll bring him to you. + +To the Senators + +Let me desire your company: he must come, +Or what is worst will follow. + +First Senator +Pray you, let's to him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians +CORIOLANUS +Let them puff all about mine ears, present me +Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, +Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, +That the precipitation might down stretch +Below the beam of sight, yet will I still +Be thus to them. + +A Patrician +You do the nobler. + +CORIOLANUS +I muse my mother +Does not approve me further, who was wont +To call them woollen vassals, things created +To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads +In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, +When one but of my ordinance stood up +To speak of peace or war. + +Enter VOLUMNIA + +I talk of you: +Why did you wish me milder? would you have me +False to my nature? Rather say I play +The man I am. + +VOLUMNIA +O, sir, sir, sir, +I would have had you put your power well on, +Before you had worn it out. + +CORIOLANUS +Let go. + +VOLUMNIA +You might have been enough the man you are, +With striving less to be so; lesser had been +The thwartings of your dispositions, if +You had not show'd them how ye were disposed +Ere they lack'd power to cross you. + +CORIOLANUS +Let them hang. + +A Patrician +Ay, and burn too. + +Enter MENENIUS and Senators + +MENENIUS +Come, come, you have been too rough, something +too rough; +You must return and mend it. + +First Senator +There's no remedy; +Unless, by not so doing, our good city +Cleave in the midst, and perish. + +VOLUMNIA +Pray, be counsell'd: +I have a heart as little apt as yours, +But yet a brain that leads my use of anger +To better vantage. + +MENENIUS +Well said, noble woman? +Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that +The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic +For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, +Which I can scarcely bear. + +CORIOLANUS +What must I do? + +MENENIUS +Return to the tribunes. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, what then? what then? + +MENENIUS +Repent what you have spoke. + +CORIOLANUS +For them! I cannot do it to the gods; +Must I then do't to them? + +VOLUMNIA +You are too absolute; +Though therein you can never be too noble, +But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, +Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, +I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me, +In peace what each of them by the other lose, +That they combine not there. + +CORIOLANUS +Tush, tush! + +MENENIUS +A good demand. + +VOLUMNIA +If it be honour in your wars to seem +The same you are not, which, for your best ends, +You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse, +That it shall hold companionship in peace +With honour, as in war, since that to both +It stands in like request? + +CORIOLANUS +Why force you this? + +VOLUMNIA +Because that now it lies you on to speak +To the people; not by your own instruction, +Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you, +But with such words that are but rooted in +Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables +Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. +Now, this no more dishonours you at all +Than to take in a town with gentle words, +Which else would put you to your fortune and +The hazard of much blood. +I would dissemble with my nature where +My fortunes and my friends at stake required +I should do so in honour: I am in this, +Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; +And you will rather show our general louts +How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em, +For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard +Of what that want might ruin. + +MENENIUS +Noble lady! +Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, +Not what is dangerous present, but the loss +Of what is past. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, my son, +Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; +And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them-- +Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business +Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant +More learned than the ears--waving thy head, +Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart, +Now humble as the ripest mulberry +That will not hold the handling: or say to them, +Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils +Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, +Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, +In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame +Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far +As thou hast power and person. + +MENENIUS +This but done, +Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; +For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free +As words to little purpose. + +VOLUMNIA +Prithee now, +Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather +Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf +Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit +You make strong party, or defend yourself +By calmness or by absence: all's in anger. + +MENENIUS +Only fair speech. + +COMINIUS +I think 'twill serve, if he +Can thereto frame his spirit. + +VOLUMNIA +He must, and will +Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. + +CORIOLANUS +Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? +Must I with base tongue give my noble heart +A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't: +Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, +This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it +And throw't against the wind. To the market-place! +You have put me now to such a part which never +I shall discharge to the life. + +COMINIUS +Come, come, we'll prompt you. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said +My praises made thee first a soldier, so, +To have my praise for this, perform a part +Thou hast not done before. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, I must do't: +Away, my disposition, and possess me +Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, +Which quired with my drum, into a pipe +Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice +That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves +Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up +The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue +Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, +Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his +That hath received an alms! I will not do't, +Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth +And by my body's action teach my mind +A most inherent baseness. + +VOLUMNIA +At thy choice, then: +To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour +Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let +Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear +Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death +With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list +Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me, +But owe thy pride thyself. + +CORIOLANUS +Pray, be content: +Mother, I am going to the market-place; +Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, +Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved +Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going: +Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; +Or never trust to what my tongue can do +I' the way of flattery further. + +VOLUMNIA +Do your will. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself +To answer mildly; for they are prepared +With accusations, as I hear, more strong +Than are upon you yet. + +CORIOLANUS +The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go: +Let them accuse me by invention, I +Will answer in mine honour. + +MENENIUS +Ay, but mildly. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, mildly be it then. Mildly! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +BRUTUS +In this point charge him home, that he affects +Tyrannical power: if he evade us there, +Enforce him with his envy to the people, +And that the spoil got on the Antiates +Was ne'er distributed. + +Enter an AEdile + +What, will he come? + +AEdile +He's coming. + +BRUTUS +How accompanied? + +AEdile +With old Menenius, and those senators +That always favour'd him. + +SICINIUS +Have you a catalogue +Of all the voices that we have procured +Set down by the poll? + +AEdile +I have; 'tis ready. + +SICINIUS +Have you collected them by tribes? + +AEdile +I have. + +SICINIUS +Assemble presently the people hither; +And when they bear me say 'It shall be so +I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either +For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them +If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.' +Insisting on the old prerogative +And power i' the truth o' the cause. + +AEdile +I shall inform them. + +BRUTUS +And when such time they have begun to cry, +Let them not cease, but with a din confused +Enforce the present execution +Of what we chance to sentence. + +AEdile +Very well. + +SICINIUS +Make them be strong and ready for this hint, +When we shall hap to give 't them. + +BRUTUS +Go about it. + +Exit AEdile + +Put him to choler straight: he hath been used +Ever to conquer, and to have his worth +Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot +Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks +What's in his heart; and that is there which looks +With us to break his neck. + +SICINIUS +Well, here he comes. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with Senators and Patricians + +MENENIUS +Calmly, I do beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece +Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods +Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice +Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's! +Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, +And not our streets with war! + +First Senator +Amen, amen. + +MENENIUS +A noble wish. + +Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens + +SICINIUS +Draw near, ye people. + +AEdile +List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say! + +CORIOLANUS +First, hear me speak. + +Both Tribunes +Well, say. Peace, ho! + +CORIOLANUS +Shall I be charged no further than this present? +Must all determine here? + +SICINIUS +I do demand, +If you submit you to the people's voices, +Allow their officers and are content +To suffer lawful censure for such faults +As shall be proved upon you? + +CORIOLANUS +I am content. + +MENENIUS +Lo, citizens, he says he is content: +The warlike service he has done, consider; think +Upon the wounds his body bears, which show +Like graves i' the holy churchyard. + +CORIOLANUS +Scratches with briers, +Scars to move laughter only. + +MENENIUS +Consider further, +That when he speaks not like a citizen, +You find him like a soldier: do not take +His rougher accents for malicious sounds, +But, as I say, such as become a soldier, +Rather than envy you. + +COMINIUS +Well, well, no more. + +CORIOLANUS +What is the matter +That being pass'd for consul with full voice, +I am so dishonour'd that the very hour +You take it off again? + +SICINIUS +Answer to us. + +CORIOLANUS +Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so. + +SICINIUS +We charge you, that you have contrived to take +From Rome all season'd office and to wind +Yourself into a power tyrannical; +For which you are a traitor to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +How! traitor! + +MENENIUS +Nay, temperately; your promise. + +CORIOLANUS +The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people! +Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune! +Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, +In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in +Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say +'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free +As I do pray the gods. + +SICINIUS +Mark you this, people? + +Citizens +To the rock, to the rock with him! + +SICINIUS +Peace! +We need not put new matter to his charge: +What you have seen him do and heard him speak, +Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, +Opposing laws with strokes and here defying +Those whose great power must try him; even this, +So criminal and in such capital kind, +Deserves the extremest death. + +BRUTUS +But since he hath +Served well for Rome,-- + +CORIOLANUS +What do you prate of service? + +BRUTUS +I talk of that, that know it. + +CORIOLANUS +You? + +MENENIUS +Is this the promise that you made your mother? + +COMINIUS +Know, I pray you,-- + +CORIOLANUS +I know no further: +Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, +Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger +But with a grain a day, I would not buy +Their mercy at the price of one fair word; +Nor cheque my courage for what they can give, +To have't with saying 'Good morrow.' + +SICINIUS +For that he has, +As much as in him lies, from time to time +Envied against the people, seeking means +To pluck away their power, as now at last +Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence +Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers +That do distribute it; in the name o' the people +And in the power of us the tribunes, we, +Even from this instant, banish him our city, +In peril of precipitation +From off the rock Tarpeian never more +To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name, +I say it shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away: +He's banish'd, and it shall be so. + +COMINIUS +Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,-- + +SICINIUS +He's sentenced; no more hearing. + +COMINIUS +Let me speak: +I have been consul, and can show for Rome +Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love +My country's good with a respect more tender, +More holy and profound, than mine own life, +My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase, +And treasure of my loins; then if I would +Speak that,-- + +SICINIUS +We know your drift: speak what? + +BRUTUS +There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd, +As enemy to the people and his country: +It shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so. + +CORIOLANUS +You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate +As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize +As the dead carcasses of unburied men +That do corrupt my air, I banish you; +And here remain with your uncertainty! +Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! +Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, +Fan you into despair! Have the power still +To banish your defenders; till at length +Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels, +Making not reservation of yourselves, +Still your own foes, deliver you as most +Abated captives to some nation +That won you without blows! Despising, +For you, the city, thus I turn my back: +There is a world elsewhere. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians + +AEdile +The people's enemy is gone, is gone! + +Citizens +Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! + +Shouting, and throwing up their caps + +SICINIUS +Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, +As he hath followed you, with all despite; +Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard +Attend us through the city. + +Citizens +Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come. +The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the city. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome +CORIOLANUS +Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast +With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, +Where is your ancient courage? you were used +To say extremity was the trier of spirits; +That common chances common men could bear; +That when the sea was calm all boats alike +Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, +When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves +A noble cunning: you were used to load me +With precepts that would make invincible +The heart that conn'd them. + +VIRGILIA +O heavens! O heavens! + +CORIOLANUS +Nay! prithee, woman,-- + +VOLUMNIA +Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, +And occupations perish! + +CORIOLANUS +What, what, what! +I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. +Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, +If you had been the wife of Hercules, +Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved +Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, +Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: +I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, +Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, +And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, +I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld +Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women +'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, +As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well +My hazards still have been your solace: and +Believe't not lightly--though I go alone, +Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen +Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son +Will or exceed the common or be caught +With cautelous baits and practise. + +VOLUMNIA +My first son. +Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius +With thee awhile: determine on some course, +More than a wild exposture to each chance +That starts i' the way before thee. + +CORIOLANUS +O the gods! + +COMINIUS +I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee +Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us +And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth +A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send +O'er the vast world to seek a single man, +And lose advantage, which doth ever cool +I' the absence of the needer. + +CORIOLANUS +Fare ye well: +Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full +Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one +That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate. +Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and +My friends of noble touch, when I am forth, +Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. +While I remain above the ground, you shall +Hear from me still, and never of me aught +But what is like me formerly. + +MENENIUS +That's worthily +As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep. +If I could shake off but one seven years +From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, +I'ld with thee every foot. + +CORIOLANUS +Give me thy hand: Come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile +SICINIUS +Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further. +The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided +In his behalf. + +BRUTUS +Now we have shown our power, +Let us seem humbler after it is done +Than when it was a-doing. + +SICINIUS +Bid them home: +Say their great enemy is gone, and they +Stand in their ancient strength. + +BRUTUS +Dismiss them home. + +Exit AEdile + +Here comes his mother. + +SICINIUS +Let's not meet her. + +BRUTUS +Why? + +SICINIUS +They say she's mad. + +BRUTUS +They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way. + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS + +VOLUMNIA +O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods +Requite your love! + +MENENIUS +Peace, peace; be not so loud. + +VOLUMNIA +If that I could for weeping, you should hear,-- +Nay, and you shall hear some. + +To BRUTUS + +Will you be gone? + +VIRGILIA +[To SICINIUS] You shall stay too: I would I had the power +To say so to my husband. + +SICINIUS +Are you mankind? + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool. +Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship +To banish him that struck more blows for Rome +Than thou hast spoken words? + +SICINIUS +O blessed heavens! + +VOLUMNIA +More noble blows than ever thou wise words; +And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go: +Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son +Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, +His good sword in his hand. + +SICINIUS +What then? + +VIRGILIA +What then! +He'ld make an end of thy posterity. + +VOLUMNIA +Bastards and all. +Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! + +MENENIUS +Come, come, peace. + +SICINIUS +I would he had continued to his country +As he began, and not unknit himself +The noble knot he made. + +BRUTUS +I would he had. + +VOLUMNIA +'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble: +Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth +As I can of those mysteries which heaven +Will not have earth to know. + +BRUTUS +Pray, let us go. + +VOLUMNIA +Now, pray, sir, get you gone: +You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- +As far as doth the Capitol exceed +The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- +This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- +Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. + +BRUTUS +Well, well, we'll leave you. + +SICINIUS +Why stay we to be baited +With one that wants her wits? + +VOLUMNIA +Take my prayers with you. + +Exeunt Tribunes + +I would the gods had nothing else to do +But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em +But once a-day, it would unclog my heart +Of what lies heavy to't. + +MENENIUS +You have told them home; +And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me? + +VOLUMNIA +Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, +And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go: +Leave this faint puling and lament as I do, +In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium. + +Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting +Roman +I know you well, sir, and you know +me: your name, I think, is Adrian. + +Volsce +It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you. + +Roman +I am a Roman; and my services are, +as you are, against 'em: know you me yet? + +Volsce +Nicanor? no. + +Roman +The same, sir. + +Volsce +You had more beard when I last saw you; but your +favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the +news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state, +to find you out there: you have well saved me a +day's journey. + +Roman +There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the +people against the senators, patricians, and nobles. + +Volsce +Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not +so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and +hope to come upon them in the heat of their division. + +Roman +The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing +would make it flame again: for the nobles receive +so to heart the banishment of that worthy +Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take +all power from the people and to pluck from them +their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can +tell you, and is almost mature for the violent +breaking out. + +Volsce +Coriolanus banished! + +Roman +Banished, sir. + +Volsce +You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor. + +Roman +The day serves well for them now. I have heard it +said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is +when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble +Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his +great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request +of his country. + +Volsce +He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus +accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my +business, and I will merrily accompany you home. + +Roman +I shall, between this and supper, tell you most +strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of +their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you? + +Volsce +A most royal one; the centurions and their charges, +distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, +and to be on foot at an hour's warning. + +Roman +I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the +man, I think, that shall set them in present action. +So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company. + +Volsce +You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause +to be glad of yours. + +Roman +Well, let us go together. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidius's house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised and muffled +CORIOLANUS +A goodly city is this Antium. City, +'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir +Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars +Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not, +Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones +In puny battle slay me. + +Enter a Citizen + +Save you, sir. + +Citizen +And you. + +CORIOLANUS +Direct me, if it be your will, +Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium? + +Citizen +He is, and feasts the nobles of the state +At his house this night. + +CORIOLANUS +Which is his house, beseech you? + +Citizen +This, here before you. + +CORIOLANUS +Thank you, sir: farewell. + +Exit Citizen + +O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, +Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, +Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, +Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love +Unseparable, shall within this hour, +On a dissension of a doit, break out +To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, +Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, +To take the one the other, by some chance, +Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends +And interjoin their issues. So with me: +My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon +This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me, +He does fair justice; if he give me way, +I'll do his country service. + +Exit + +SCENE V. The same. A hall in Aufidius's house. + +Music within. Enter a Servingman +First Servingman +Wine, wine, wine! What service +is here! I think our fellows are asleep. + +Exit + +Enter a second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Where's Cotus? my master calls +for him. Cotus! + +Exit + +Enter CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I +Appear not like a guest. + +Re-enter the first Servingman + +First Servingman +What would you have, friend? whence are you? +Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +I have deserved no better entertainment, +In being Coriolanus. + +Re-enter second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his +head; that he gives entrance to such companions? +Pray, get you out. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +Second Servingman +Away! get you away. + +CORIOLANUS +Now thou'rt troublesome. + +Second Servingman +Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. + +Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him + +Third Servingman +What fellow's this? + +First Servingman +A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him +out of the house: prithee, call my master to him. + +Retires + +Third Servingman +What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid +the house. + +CORIOLANUS +Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth. + +Third Servingman +What are you? + +CORIOLANUS +A gentleman. + +Third Servingman +A marvellous poor one. + +CORIOLANUS +True, so I am. + +Third Servingman +Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other +station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come. + +CORIOLANUS +Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits. + +Pushes him away + +Third Servingman +What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a +strange guest he has here. + +Second Servingman +And I shall. + +Exit + +Third Servingman +Where dwellest thou? + +CORIOLANUS +Under the canopy. + +Third Servingman +Under the canopy! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay. + +Third Servingman +Where's that? + +CORIOLANUS +I' the city of kites and crows. + +Third Servingman +I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! +Then thou dwellest with daws too? + +CORIOLANUS +No, I serve not thy master. + +Third Servingman +How, sir! do you meddle with my master? + +CORIOLANUS +Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy +mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy +trencher, hence! + +Beats him away. Exit third Servingman + +Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman + +AUFIDIUS +Where is this fellow? + +Second Servingman +Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for +disturbing the lords within. + +Retires + +AUFIDIUS +Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? +Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +If, Tullus, + +Unmuffling + +Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not +Think me for the man I am, necessity +Commands me name myself. + +AUFIDIUS +What is thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, +And harsh in sound to thine. + +AUFIDIUS +Say, what's thy name? +Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face +Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn. +Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st +thou me yet? + +AUFIDIUS +I know thee not: thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done +To thee particularly and to all the Volsces +Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may +My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, +The extreme dangers and the drops of blood +Shed for my thankless country are requited +But with that surname; a good memory, +And witness of the malice and displeasure +Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; +The cruelty and envy of the people, +Permitted by our dastard nobles, who +Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; +And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be +Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity +Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope-- +Mistake me not--to save my life, for if +I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world +I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, +To be full quit of those my banishers, +Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast +A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge +Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims +Of shame seen through thy country, speed +thee straight, +And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it +That my revengeful services may prove +As benefits to thee, for I will fight +Against my canker'd country with the spleen +Of all the under fiends. But if so be +Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes +Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am +Longer to live most weary, and present +My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; +Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, +Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate, +Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, +And cannot live but to thy shame, unless +It be to do thee service. + +AUFIDIUS +O Marcius, Marcius! +Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart +A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter +Should from yond cloud speak divine things, +And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more +Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine +Mine arms about that body, where against +My grained ash an hundred times hath broke +And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip +The anvil of my sword, and do contest +As hotly and as nobly with thy love +As ever in ambitious strength I did +Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, +I loved the maid I married; never man +Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, +Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart +Than when I first my wedded mistress saw +Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, +We have a power on foot; and I had purpose +Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, +Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out +Twelve several times, and I have nightly since +Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me; +We have been down together in my sleep, +Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, +And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, +Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that +Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all +From twelve to seventy, and pouring war +Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, +Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in, +And take our friendly senators by the hands; +Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, +Who am prepared against your territories, +Though not for Rome itself. + +CORIOLANUS +You bless me, gods! + +AUFIDIUS +Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have +The leading of thine own revenges, take +The one half of my commission; and set down-- +As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st +Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways; +Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, +Or rudely visit them in parts remote, +To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: +Let me commend thee first to those that shall +Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! +And more a friend than e'er an enemy; +Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome! + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two Servingmen come forward + +First Servingman +Here's a strange alteration! + +Second Servingman +By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with +a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a +false report of him. + +First Servingman +What an arm he has! he turned me about with his +finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top. + +Second Servingman +Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in +him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I +cannot tell how to term it. + +First Servingman +He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, +but I thought there was more in him than I could think. + +Second Servingman +So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest +man i' the world. + +First Servingman +I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on. + +Second Servingman +Who, my master? + +First Servingman +Nay, it's no matter for that. + +Second Servingman +Worth six on him. + +First Servingman +Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the +greater soldier. + +Second Servingman +Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: +for the defence of a town, our general is excellent. + +First Servingman +Ay, and for an assault too. + +Re-enter third Servingman + +Third Servingman +O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals! + +First Servingman Second Servingman +What, what, what? let's partake. + +Third Servingman +I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as +lieve be a condemned man. + +First Servingman Second Servingman +Wherefore? wherefore? + +Third Servingman +Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, +Caius Marcius. + +First Servingman +Why do you say 'thwack our general '? + +Third Servingman +I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always +good enough for him. + +Second Servingman +Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too +hard for him; I have heard him say so himself. + +First Servingman +He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth +on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched +him like a carbon ado. + +Second Servingman +An he had been cannibally given, he might have +broiled and eaten him too. + +First Servingman +But, more of thy news? + +Third Servingman +Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son +and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no +question asked him by any of the senators, but they +stand bald before him: our general himself makes a +mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and +turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But +the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i' +the middle and but one half of what he was +yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty +and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, +and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he +will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled. + +Second Servingman +And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. + +Third Servingman +Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as +many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it +were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as +we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude. + +First Servingman +Directitude! what's that? + +Third Servingman +But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, +and the man in blood, they will out of their +burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with +him. + +First Servingman +But when goes this forward? + +Third Servingman +To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the +drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a +parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they +wipe their lips. + +Second Servingman +Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. +This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase +tailors, and breed ballad-makers. + +First Servingman +Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as +day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and +full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; +mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more +bastard children than war's a destroyer of men. + +Second Servingman +'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to +be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a +great maker of cuckolds. + +First Servingman +Ay, and it makes men hate one another. + +Third Servingman +Reason; because they then less need one another. +The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap +as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising. + +All +In, in, in, in! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. A public place. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +SICINIUS +We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; +His remedies are tame i' the present peace +And quietness of the people, which before +Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends +Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, +Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold +Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see +Our tradesmen with in their shops and going +About their functions friendly. + +BRUTUS +We stood to't in good time. + +Enter MENENIUS + +Is this Menenius? + +SICINIUS +'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. + +Both Tribunes +Hail sir! + +MENENIUS +Hail to you both! + +SICINIUS +Your Coriolanus +Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: +The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, +Were he more angry at it. + +MENENIUS +All's well; and might have been much better, if +He could have temporized. + +SICINIUS +Where is he, hear you? + +MENENIUS +Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife +Hear nothing from him. + +Enter three or four Citizens + +Citizens +The gods preserve you both! + +SICINIUS +God-den, our neighbours. + +BRUTUS +God-den to you all, god-den to you all. + +First Citizen +Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, +Are bound to pray for you both. + +SICINIUS +Live, and thrive! + +BRUTUS +Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus +Had loved you as we did. + +Citizens +Now the gods keep you! + +Both Tribunes +Farewell, farewell. + +Exeunt Citizens + +SICINIUS +This is a happier and more comely time +Than when these fellows ran about the streets, +Crying confusion. + +BRUTUS +Caius Marcius was +A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, +O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, +Self-loving,-- + +SICINIUS +And affecting one sole throne, +Without assistance. + +MENENIUS +I think not so. + +SICINIUS +We should by this, to all our lamentation, +If he had gone forth consul, found it so. + +BRUTUS +The gods have well prevented it, and Rome +Sits safe and still without him. + +Enter an AEdile + +AEdile +Worthy tribunes, +There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, +Reports, the Volsces with two several powers +Are enter'd in the Roman territories, +And with the deepest malice of the war +Destroy what lies before 'em. + +MENENIUS +'Tis Aufidius, +Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, +Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; +Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, +And durst not once peep out. + +SICINIUS +Come, what talk you +Of Marcius? + +BRUTUS +Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be +The Volsces dare break with us. + +MENENIUS +Cannot be! +We have record that very well it can, +And three examples of the like have been +Within my age. But reason with the fellow, +Before you punish him, where he heard this, +Lest you shall chance to whip your information +And beat the messenger who bids beware +Of what is to be dreaded. + +SICINIUS +Tell not me: +I know this cannot be. + +BRUTUS +Not possible. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The nobles in great earnestness are going +All to the senate-house: some news is come +That turns their countenances. + +SICINIUS +'Tis this slave;-- +Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising; +Nothing but his report. + +Messenger +Yes, worthy sir, +The slave's report is seconded; and more, +More fearful, is deliver'd. + +SICINIUS +What more fearful? + +Messenger +It is spoke freely out of many mouths-- +How probable I do not know--that Marcius, +Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, +And vows revenge as spacious as between +The young'st and oldest thing. + +SICINIUS +This is most likely! + +BRUTUS +Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish +Good Marcius home again. + +SICINIUS +The very trick on't. + +MENENIUS +This is unlikely: +He and Aufidius can no more atone +Than violentest contrariety. + +Enter a second Messenger + +Second Messenger +You are sent for to the senate: +A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius +Associated with Aufidius, rages +Upon our territories; and have already +O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took +What lay before them. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +O, you have made good work! + +MENENIUS +What news? what news? + +COMINIUS +You have holp to ravish your own daughters and +To melt the city leads upon your pates, +To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,-- + +MENENIUS +What's the news? what's the news? + +COMINIUS +Your temples burned in their cement, and +Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined +Into an auger's bore. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, your news? +You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?-- +If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,-- + +COMINIUS +If! +He is their god: he leads them like a thing +Made by some other deity than nature, +That shapes man better; and they follow him, +Against us brats, with no less confidence +Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, +Or butchers killing flies. + +MENENIUS +You have made good work, +You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much +on the voice of occupation and +The breath of garlic-eaters! + +COMINIUS +He will shake +Your Rome about your ears. + +MENENIUS +As Hercules +Did shake down mellow fruit. +You have made fair work! + +BRUTUS +But is this true, sir? + +COMINIUS +Ay; and you'll look pale +Before you find it other. All the regions +Do smilingly revolt; and who resist +Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, +And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him? +Your enemies and his find something in him. + +MENENIUS +We are all undone, unless +The noble man have mercy. + +COMINIUS +Who shall ask it? +The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people +Deserve such pity of him as the wolf +Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they +Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even +As those should do that had deserved his hate, +And therein show'd like enemies. + +MENENIUS +'Tis true: +If he were putting to my house the brand +That should consume it, I have not the face +To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands, +You and your crafts! you have crafted fair! + +COMINIUS +You have brought +A trembling upon Rome, such as was never +So incapable of help. + +Both Tribunes +Say not we brought it. + +MENENIUS +How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts +And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, +Who did hoot him out o' the city. + +COMINIUS +But I fear +They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, +The second name of men, obeys his points +As if he were his officer: desperation +Is all the policy, strength and defence, +That Rome can make against them. + +Enter a troop of Citizens + +MENENIUS +Here come the clusters. +And is Aufidius with him? You are they +That made the air unwholesome, when you cast +Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at +Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming; +And not a hair upon a soldier's head +Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs +As you threw caps up will he tumble down, +And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter; +if he could burn us all into one coal, +We have deserved it. + +Citizens +Faith, we hear fearful news. + +First Citizen +For mine own part, +When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity. + +Second Citizen +And so did I. + +Third Citizen +And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very +many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and +though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet +it was against our will. + +COMINIUS +Ye re goodly things, you voices! + +MENENIUS +You have made +Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol? + +COMINIUS +O, ay, what else? + +Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS + +SICINIUS +Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd: +These are a side that would be glad to have +This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, +And show no sign of fear. + +First Citizen +The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. +I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished +him. + +Second Citizen +So did we all. But, come, let's home. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +I do not like this news. + +SICINIUS +Nor I. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth +Would buy this for a lie! + +SICINIUS +Pray, let us go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. A camp, at a small distance from Rome. + +Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant +AUFIDIUS +Do they still fly to the Roman? + +Lieutenant +I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but +Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, +Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; +And you are darken'd in this action, sir, +Even by your own. + +AUFIDIUS +I cannot help it now, +Unless, by using means, I lame the foot +Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, +Even to my person, than I thought he would +When first I did embrace him: yet his nature +In that's no changeling; and I must excuse +What cannot be amended. + +Lieutenant +Yet I wish, sir,-- +I mean for your particular,--you had not +Join'd in commission with him; but either +Had borne the action of yourself, or else +To him had left it solely. + +AUFIDIUS +I understand thee well; and be thou sure, +when he shall come to his account, he knows not +What I can urge against him. Although it seems, +And so he thinks, and is no less apparent +To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly. +And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, +Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon +As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone +That which shall break his neck or hazard mine, +Whene'er we come to our account. + +Lieutenant +Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? + +AUFIDIUS +All places yield to him ere he sits down; +And the nobility of Rome are his: +The senators and patricians love him too: +The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people +Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty +To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome +As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it +By sovereignty of nature. First he was +A noble servant to them; but he could not +Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, +Which out of daily fortune ever taints +The happy man; whether defect of judgment, +To fail in the disposing of those chances +Which he was lord of; or whether nature, +Not to be other than one thing, not moving +From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace +Even with the same austerity and garb +As he controll'd the war; but one of these-- +As he hath spices of them all, not all, +For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd, +So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit, +To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues +Lie in the interpretation of the time: +And power, unto itself most commendable, +Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair +To extol what it hath done. +One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; +Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail. +Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, +Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others +MENENIUS +No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said +Which was sometime his general; who loved him +In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: +But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; +A mile before his tent fall down, and knee +The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd +To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. + +COMINIUS +He would not seem to know me. + +MENENIUS +Do you hear? + +COMINIUS +Yet one time he did call me by my name: +I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops +That we have bled together. Coriolanus +He would not answer to: forbad all names; +He was a kind of nothing, titleless, +Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire +Of burning Rome. + +MENENIUS +Why, so: you have made good work! +A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, +To make coals cheap,--a noble memory! + +COMINIUS +I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon +When it was less expected: he replied, +It was a bare petition of a state +To one whom they had punish'd. + +MENENIUS +Very well: +Could he say less? + +COMINIUS +I offer'd to awaken his regard +For's private friends: his answer to me was, +He could not stay to pick them in a pile +Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, +For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, +And still to nose the offence. + +MENENIUS +For one poor grain or two! +I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, +And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: +You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt +Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. + +SICINIUS +Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid +In this so never-needed help, yet do not +Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you +Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, +More than the instant army we can make, +Might stop our countryman. + +MENENIUS +No, I'll not meddle. + +SICINIUS +Pray you, go to him. + +MENENIUS +What should I do? + +BRUTUS +Only make trial what your love can do +For Rome, towards Marcius. + +MENENIUS +Well, and say that Marcius +Return me, as Cominius is return'd, +Unheard; what then? +But as a discontented friend, grief-shot +With his unkindness? say't be so? + +SICINIUS +Yet your good will +must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure +As you intended well. + +MENENIUS +I'll undertake 't: +I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip +And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. +He was not taken well; he had not dined: +The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then +We pout upon the morning, are unapt +To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd +These and these conveyances of our blood +With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls +Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him +Till he be dieted to my request, +And then I'll set upon him. + +BRUTUS +You know the very road into his kindness, +And cannot lose your way. + +MENENIUS +Good faith, I'll prove him, +Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge +Of my success. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +He'll never hear him. + +SICINIUS +Not? + +COMINIUS +I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye +Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury +The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; +'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me +Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, +He sent in writing after me; what he would not, +Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: +So that all hope is vain. +Unless his noble mother, and his wife; +Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him +For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, +And with our fair entreaties haste them on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome. +Two Sentinels on guard. + +Enter to them, MENENIUS + +First Senator +Stay: whence are you? + +Second Senator +Stand, and go back. + +MENENIUS +You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave, +I am an officer of state, and come +To speak with Coriolanus. + +First Senator +From whence? + +MENENIUS +From Rome. + +First Senator +You may not pass, you must return: our general +Will no more hear from thence. + +Second Senator +You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before +You'll speak with Coriolanus. + +MENENIUS +Good my friends, +If you have heard your general talk of Rome, +And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks, +My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius. + +First Senator +Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name +Is not here passable. + +MENENIUS +I tell thee, fellow, +The general is my lover: I have been +The book of his good acts, whence men have read +His name unparallel'd, haply amplified; +For I have ever verified my friends, +Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity +Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes, +Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground, +I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise +Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow, +I must have leave to pass. + +First Senator +Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his +behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you +should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous +to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, +always factionary on the party of your general. + +Second Senator +Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you +have, I am one that, telling true under him, must +say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not +speak with him till after dinner. + +First Senator +You are a Roman, are you? + +MENENIUS +I am, as thy general is. + +First Senator +Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, +when you have pushed out your gates the very +defender of them, and, in a violent popular +ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to +front his revenges with the easy groans of old +women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with +the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as +you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the +intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with +such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; +therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your +execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn +you out of reprieve and pardon. + +MENENIUS +Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would +use me with estimation. + +Second Senator +Come, my captain knows you not. + +MENENIUS +I mean, thy general. + +First Senator +My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest +I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's +the utmost of your having: back. + +MENENIUS +Nay, but, fellow, fellow,-- + +Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +CORIOLANUS +What's the matter? + +MENENIUS +Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you: +You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall +perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from +my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment +with him, if thou standest not i' the state of +hanging, or of some death more long in +spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now +presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. + +To CORIOLANUS + +The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy +particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than +thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! +thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's +water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to +thee; but being assured none but myself could move +thee, I have been blown out of your gates with +sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy +petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy +wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet +here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my +access to thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +MENENIUS +How! away! + +CORIOLANUS +Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs +Are servanted to others: though I owe +My revenge properly, my remission lies +In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, +Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather +Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone. +Mine ears against your suits are stronger than +Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, +Take this along; I writ it for thy sake + +Gives a letter + +And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius, +I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, +Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st! + +AUFIDIUS +You keep a constant temper. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +First Senator +Now, sir, is your name Menenius? + +Second Senator +'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the +way home again. + +First Senator +Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your +greatness back? + +Second Senator +What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? + +MENENIUS +I neither care for the world nor your general: for +such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, +ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by +himself fears it not from another: let your general +do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and +your misery increase with your age! I say to you, +as I was said to, Away! + +Exit + +First Senator +A noble fellow, I warrant him. + +Second Senator +The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the +oak not to be wind-shaken. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others +CORIOLANUS +We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow +Set down our host. My partner in this action, +You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly +I have borne this business. + +AUFIDIUS +Only their ends +You have respected; stopp'd your ears against +The general suit of Rome; never admitted +A private whisper, no, not with such friends +That thought them sure of you. + +CORIOLANUS +This last old man, +Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, +Loved me above the measure of a father; +Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge +Was to send him; for whose old love I have, +Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd +The first conditions, which they did refuse +And cannot now accept; to grace him only +That thought he could do more, a very little +I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, +Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter +Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? + +Shout within + +Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow +In the same time 'tis made? I will not. + +Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants + +My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould +Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand +The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! +All bond and privilege of nature, break! +Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. +What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, +Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not +Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; +As if Olympus to a molehill should +In supplication nod: and my young boy +Hath an aspect of intercession, which +Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces +Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never +Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, +As if a man were author of himself +And knew no other kin. + +VIRGILIA +My lord and husband! + +CORIOLANUS +These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. + +VIRGILIA +The sorrow that delivers us thus changed +Makes you think so. + +CORIOLANUS +Like a dull actor now, +I have forgot my part, and I am out, +Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, +Forgive my tyranny; but do not say +For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss +Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! +Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss +I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip +Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, +And the most noble mother of the world +Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; + +Kneels + +Of thy deep duty more impression show +Than that of common sons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, stand up blest! +Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, +I kneel before thee; and unproperly +Show duty, as mistaken all this while +Between the child and parent. + +Kneels + +CORIOLANUS +What is this? +Your knees to me? to your corrected son? +Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach +Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds +Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; +Murdering impossibility, to make +What cannot be, slight work. + +VOLUMNIA +Thou art my warrior; +I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? + +CORIOLANUS +The noble sister of Publicola, +The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle +That's curdied by the frost from purest snow +And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! + +VOLUMNIA +This is a poor epitome of yours, +Which by the interpretation of full time +May show like all yourself. + +CORIOLANUS +The god of soldiers, +With the consent of supreme Jove, inform +Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove +To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars +Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, +And saving those that eye thee! + +VOLUMNIA +Your knee, sirrah. + +CORIOLANUS +That's my brave boy! + +VOLUMNIA +Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, +Are suitors to you. + +CORIOLANUS +I beseech you, peace: +Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before: +The thing I have forsworn to grant may never +Be held by you denials. Do not bid me +Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate +Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not +Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not +To ally my rages and revenges with +Your colder reasons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, no more, no more! +You have said you will not grant us any thing; +For we have nothing else to ask, but that +Which you deny already: yet we will ask; +That, if you fail in our request, the blame +May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. + +CORIOLANUS +Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll +Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? + +VOLUMNIA +Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment +And state of bodies would bewray what life +We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself +How more unfortunate than all living women +Are we come hither: since that thy sight, +which should +Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance +with comforts, +Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow; +Making the mother, wife and child to see +The son, the husband and the father tearing +His country's bowels out. And to poor we +Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us +Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort +That all but we enjoy; for how can we, +Alas, how can we for our country pray. +Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory, +Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose +The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person, +Our comfort in the country. We must find +An evident calamity, though we had +Our wish, which side should win: for either thou +Must, as a foreign recreant, be led +With manacles thorough our streets, or else +triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, +And bear the palm for having bravely shed +Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, +I purpose not to wait on fortune till +These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee +Rather to show a noble grace to both parts +Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner +March to assault thy country than to tread-- +Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb, +That brought thee to this world. + +VIRGILIA +Ay, and mine, +That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name +Living to time. + +Young MARCIUS +A' shall not tread on me; +I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. + +CORIOLANUS +Not of a woman's tenderness to be, +Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. +I have sat too long. + +Rising + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, go not from us thus. +If it were so that our request did tend +To save the Romans, thereby to destroy +The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, +As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit +Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces +May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, +'This we received;' and each in either side +Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest +For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, +The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, +That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit +Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name, +Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; +Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, +But with his last attempt he wiped it out; +Destroy'd his country, and his name remains +To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: +Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, +To imitate the graces of the gods; +To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, +And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt +That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? +Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man +Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: +He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy: +Perhaps thy childishness will move him more +Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world +More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate +Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life +Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, +When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, +Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, +Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, +And spurn me back: but if it be not so, +Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee, +That thou restrain'st from me the duty which +To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: +Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees. +To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride +Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end; +This is the last: so we will home to Rome, +And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's: +This boy, that cannot tell what he would have +But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship, +Does reason our petition with more strength +Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go: +This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; +His wife is in Corioli and his child +Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch: +I am hush'd until our city be a-fire, +And then I'll speak a little. + +He holds her by the hand, silent + +CORIOLANUS +O mother, mother! +What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, +The gods look down, and this unnatural scene +They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! +You have won a happy victory to Rome; +But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it, +Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, +If not most mortal to him. But, let it come. +Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, +I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, +Were you in my stead, would you have heard +A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? + +AUFIDIUS +I was moved withal. + +CORIOLANUS +I dare be sworn you were: +And, sir, it is no little thing to make +Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, +What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, +I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, +Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife! + +AUFIDIUS +[Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and +thy honour +At difference in thee: out of that I'll work +Myself a former fortune. + +The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, by and by; + +To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, & c + +But we will drink together; and you shall bear +A better witness back than words, which we, +On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. +Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve +To have a temple built you: all the swords +In Italy, and her confederate arms, +Could not have made this peace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS +MENENIUS +See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond +corner-stone? + +SICINIUS +Why, what of that? + +MENENIUS +If it be possible for you to displace it with your +little finger, there is some hope the ladies of +Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. +But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are +sentenced and stay upon execution. + +SICINIUS +Is't possible that so short a time can alter the +condition of a man! + +MENENIUS +There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; +yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown +from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a +creeping thing. + +SICINIUS +He loved his mother dearly. + +MENENIUS +So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother +now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness +of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he +moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before +his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with +his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a +battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for +Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with +his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity +and a heaven to throne in. + +SICINIUS +Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. + +MENENIUS +I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his +mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy +in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that +shall our poor city find: and all this is long of +you. + +SICINIUS +The gods be good unto us! + +MENENIUS +No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto +us. When we banished him, we respected not them; +and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house: +The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune +And hale him up and down, all swearing, if +The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, +They'll give him death by inches. + +Enter a second Messenger + +SICINIUS +What's the news? + +Second Messenger +Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd, +The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone: +A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, +No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins. + +SICINIUS +Friend, +Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? + +Second Messenger +As certain as I know the sun is fire: +Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? +Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, +As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! + +Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together + +The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes, +Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans, +Make the sun dance. Hark you! + +A shout within + +MENENIUS +This is good news: +I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia +Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, +A city full; of tribunes, such as you, +A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day: +This morning for ten thousand of your throats +I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! + +Music still, with shouts + +SICINIUS +First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, +Accept my thankfulness. + +Second Messenger +Sir, we have all +Great cause to give great thanks. + +SICINIUS +They are near the city? + +Second Messenger +Almost at point to enter. + +SICINIUS +We will meet them, +And help the joy. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, & c. passing over the stage, followed by Patricians and others +First Senator +Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! +Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, +And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: +Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, +Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; +Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!' + +All +Welcome, ladies, Welcome! + +A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants +AUFIDIUS +Go tell the lords o' the city I am here: +Deliver them this paper: having read it, +Bid them repair to the market place; where I, +Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, +Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse +The city ports by this hath enter'd and +Intends to appear before the people, hoping +To purge herself with words: dispatch. + +Exeunt Attendants + +Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction + +Most welcome! + +First Conspirator +How is it with our general? + +AUFIDIUS +Even so +As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, +And with his charity slain. + +Second Conspirator +Most noble sir, +If you do hold the same intent wherein +You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you +Of your great danger. + +AUFIDIUS +Sir, I cannot tell: +We must proceed as we do find the people. + +Third Conspirator +The people will remain uncertain whilst +'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either +Makes the survivor heir of all. + +AUFIDIUS +I know it; +And my pretext to strike at him admits +A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd +Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd, +He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, +Seducing so my friends; and, to this end, +He bow'd his nature, never known before +But to be rough, unswayable and free. + +Third Conspirator +Sir, his stoutness +When he did stand for consul, which he lost +By lack of stooping,-- + +AUFIDIUS +That I would have spoke of: +Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; +Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; +Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way +In all his own desires; nay, let him choose +Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, +My best and freshest men; served his designments +In mine own person; holp to reap the fame +Which he did end all his; and took some pride +To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, +I seem'd his follower, not partner, and +He waged me with his countenance, as if +I had been mercenary. + +First Conspirator +So he did, my lord: +The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last, +When he had carried Rome and that we look'd +For no less spoil than glory,-- + +AUFIDIUS +There was it: +For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. +At a few drops of women's rheum, which are +As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour +Of our great action: therefore shall he die, +And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! + +Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People + +First Conspirator +Your native town you enter'd like a post, +And had no welcomes home: but he returns, +Splitting the air with noise. + +Second Conspirator +And patient fools, +Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear +With giving him glory. + +Third Conspirator +Therefore, at your vantage, +Ere he express himself, or move the people +With what he would say, let him feel your sword, +Which we will second. When he lies along, +After your way his tale pronounced shall bury +His reasons with his body. + +AUFIDIUS +Say no more: +Here come the lords. + +Enter the Lords of the city + +All The Lords +You are most welcome home. + +AUFIDIUS +I have not deserved it. +But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused +What I have written to you? + +Lords +We have. + +First Lord +And grieve to hear't. +What faults he made before the last, I think +Might have found easy fines: but there to end +Where he was to begin and give away +The benefit of our levies, answering us +With our own charge, making a treaty where +There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse. + +AUFIDIUS +He approaches: you shall hear him. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him + +CORIOLANUS +Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier, +No more infected with my country's love +Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting +Under your great command. You are to know +That prosperously I have attempted and +With bloody passage led your wars even to +The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home +Do more than counterpoise a full third part +The charges of the action. We have made peace +With no less honour to the Antiates +Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, +Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, +Together with the seal o' the senate, what +We have compounded on. + +AUFIDIUS +Read it not, noble lords; +But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree +He hath abused your powers. + +CORIOLANUS +Traitor! how now! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, traitor, Marcius! + +CORIOLANUS +Marcius! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think +I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name +Coriolanus in Corioli? +You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously +He has betray'd your business, and given up, +For certain drops of salt, your city Rome, +I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother; +Breaking his oath and resolution like +A twist of rotten silk, never admitting +Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears +He whined and roar'd away your victory, +That pages blush'd at him and men of heart +Look'd wondering each at other. + +CORIOLANUS +Hear'st thou, Mars? + +AUFIDIUS +Name not the god, thou boy of tears! + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! + +AUFIDIUS +No more. + +CORIOLANUS +Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart +Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave! +Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever +I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, +Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-- +Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that +Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join +To thrust the lie unto him. + +First Lord +Peace, both, and hear me speak. + +CORIOLANUS +Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, +Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound! +If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, +That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I +Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: +Alone I did it. Boy! + +AUFIDIUS +Why, noble lords, +Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, +Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, +'Fore your own eyes and ears? + +All Conspirators +Let him die for't. + +All The People +'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd +my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin +Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' + +Second Lord +Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! +The man is noble and his fame folds-in +This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us +Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, +And trouble not the peace. + +CORIOLANUS +O that I had him, +With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, +To use my lawful sword! + +AUFIDIUS +Insolent villain! + +All Conspirators +Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! + +The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body + +Lords +Hold, hold, hold, hold! + +AUFIDIUS +My noble masters, hear me speak. + +First Lord +O Tullus,-- + +Second Lord +Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. + +Third Lord +Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; +Put up your swords. + +AUFIDIUS +My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, +Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger +Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice +That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours +To call me to your senate, I'll deliver +Myself your loyal servant, or endure +Your heaviest censure. + +First Lord +Bear from hence his body; +And mourn you for him: let him be regarded +As the most noble corse that ever herald +Did follow to his urn. + +Second Lord +His own impatience +Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. +Let's make the best of it. + +AUFIDIUS +My rage is gone; +And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. +Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. +Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: +Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he +Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, +Which to this hour bewail the injury, +Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. + +Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded +The Life and Death of Julies Caesar +Shakespeare homepage | Julius Caeser | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners +FLAVIUS +Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: +Is this a holiday? what! know you not, +Being mechanical, you ought not walk +Upon a labouring day without the sign +Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? + +First Commoner +Why, sir, a carpenter. + +MARULLUS +Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? +What dost thou with thy best apparel on? +You, sir, what trade are you? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, +as you would say, a cobbler. + +MARULLUS +But what trade art thou? answer me directly. + +Second Commoner +A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe +conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. + +MARULLUS +What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? + +Second Commoner +Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, +if you be out, sir, I can mend you. + +MARULLUS +What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! + +Second Commoner +Why, sir, cobble you. + +FLAVIUS +Thou art a cobbler, art thou? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I +meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's +matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon +to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I +recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon +neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. + +FLAVIUS +But wherefore art not in thy shop today? +Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself +into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, +to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. + +MARULLUS +Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? +What tributaries follow him to Rome, +To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? +You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! +O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, +Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft +Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, +To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, +Your infants in your arms, and there have sat +The livelong day, with patient expectation, +To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: +And when you saw his chariot but appear, +Have you not made an universal shout, +That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, +To hear the replication of your sounds +Made in her concave shores? +And do you now put on your best attire? +And do you now cull out a holiday? +And do you now strew flowers in his way +That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! +Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, +Pray to the gods to intermit the plague +That needs must light on this ingratitude. + +FLAVIUS +Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, +Assemble all the poor men of your sort; +Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears +Into the channel, till the lowest stream +Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. + +Exeunt all the Commoners + +See whether their basest metal be not moved; +They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. +Go you down that way towards the Capitol; + +This way will I +disrobe the images, +If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. + +MARULLUS +May we do so? +You know it is the feast of Lupercal. + +FLAVIUS +It is no matter; let no images +Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, +And drive away the vulgar from the streets: +So do you too, where you perceive them thick. +These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing +Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, +Who else would soar above the view of men +And keep us all in servile fearfulness. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CASCA +Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. + +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CALPURNIA +Here, my lord. + +CAESAR +Stand you directly in Antonius' way, +When he doth run his course. Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar, my lord? + +CAESAR +Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, +To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, +The barren, touched in this holy chase, +Shake off their sterile curse. + +ANTONY +I shall remember: +When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd. + +CAESAR +Set on; and leave no ceremony out. + +Flourish + +Soothsayer +Caesar! + +CAESAR +Ha! who calls? + +CASCA +Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! + +CAESAR +Who is it in the press that calls on me? +I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, +Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +What man is that? + +BRUTUS +A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +Set him before me; let me see his face. + +CASSIUS +Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar. + +CAESAR +What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. + +Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Will you go see the order of the course? + +BRUTUS +Not I. + +CASSIUS +I pray you, do. + +BRUTUS +I am not gamesome: I do lack some part +Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. +Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; +I'll leave you. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, I do observe you now of late: +I have not from your eyes that gentleness +And show of love as I was wont to have: +You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand +Over your friend that loves you. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, +Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, +I turn the trouble of my countenance +Merely upon myself. Vexed I am +Of late with passions of some difference, +Conceptions only proper to myself, +Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors; +But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-- +Among which number, Cassius, be you one-- +Nor construe any further my neglect, +Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, +Forgets the shows of love to other men. + +CASSIUS +Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; +By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried +Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. +Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, +But by reflection, by some other things. + +CASSIUS +'Tis just: +And it is very much lamented, Brutus, +That you have no such mirrors as will turn +Your hidden worthiness into your eye, +That you might see your shadow. I have heard, +Where many of the best respect in Rome, +Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus +And groaning underneath this age's yoke, +Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, +That you would have me seek into myself +For that which is not in me? + +CASSIUS +Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: +And since you know you cannot see yourself +So well as by reflection, I, your glass, +Will modestly discover to yourself +That of yourself which you yet know not of. +And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: +Were I a common laugher, or did use +To stale with ordinary oaths my love +To every new protester; if you know +That I do fawn on men and hug them hard +And after scandal them, or if you know +That I profess myself in banqueting +To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. + +Flourish, and shout + +BRUTUS +What means this shouting? I do fear, the people +Choose Caesar for their king. + +CASSIUS +Ay, do you fear it? +Then must I think you would not have it so. + +BRUTUS +I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. +But wherefore do you hold me here so long? +What is it that you would impart to me? +If it be aught toward the general good, +Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, +And I will look on both indifferently, +For let the gods so speed me as I love +The name of honour more than I fear death. + +CASSIUS +I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, +As well as I do know your outward favour. +Well, honour is the subject of my story. +I cannot tell what you and other men +Think of this life; but, for my single self, +I had as lief not be as live to be +In awe of such a thing as I myself. +I was born free as Caesar; so were you: +We both have fed as well, and we can both +Endure the winter's cold as well as he: +For once, upon a raw and gusty day, +The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, +Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now +Leap in with me into this angry flood, +And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word, +Accoutred as I was, I plunged in +And bade him follow; so indeed he did. +The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it +With lusty sinews, throwing it aside +And stemming it with hearts of controversy; +But ere we could arrive the point proposed, +Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!' +I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, +Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder +The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber +Did I the tired Caesar. And this man +Is now become a god, and Cassius is +A wretched creature and must bend his body, +If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. +He had a fever when he was in Spain, +And when the fit was on him, I did mark +How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake; +His coward lips did from their colour fly, +And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world +Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: +Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans +Mark him and write his speeches in their books, +Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,' +As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me +A man of such a feeble temper should +So get the start of the majestic world +And bear the palm alone. + +Shout. Flourish + +BRUTUS +Another general shout! +I do believe that these applauses are +For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar. + +CASSIUS +Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world +Like a Colossus, and we petty men +Walk under his huge legs and peep about +To find ourselves dishonourable graves. +Men at some time are masters of their fates: +The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, +But in ourselves, that we are underlings. +Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'? +Why should that name be sounded more than yours? +Write them together, yours is as fair a name; +Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; +Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, +Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. +Now, in the names of all the gods at once, +Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, +That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! +Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! +When went there by an age, since the great flood, +But it was famed with more than with one man? +When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome, +That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? +Now is it Rome indeed and room enough, +When there is in it but one only man. +O, you and I have heard our fathers say, +There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd +The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome +As easily as a king. + +BRUTUS +That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; +What you would work me to, I have some aim: +How I have thought of this and of these times, +I shall recount hereafter; for this present, +I would not, so with love I might entreat you, +Be any further moved. What you have said +I will consider; what you have to say +I will with patience hear, and find a time +Both meet to hear and answer such high things. +Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: +Brutus had rather be a villager +Than to repute himself a son of Rome +Under these hard conditions as this time +Is like to lay upon us. + +CASSIUS +I am glad that my weak words +Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. + +BRUTUS +The games are done and Caesar is returning. + +CASSIUS +As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; +And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you +What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. + +Re-enter CAESAR and his Train + +BRUTUS +I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, +The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, +And all the rest look like a chidden train: +Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero +Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes +As we have seen him in the Capitol, +Being cross'd in conference by some senators. + +CASSIUS +Casca will tell us what the matter is. + +CAESAR +Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar? + +CAESAR +Let me have men about me that are fat; +Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights: +Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; +He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. + +ANTONY +Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous; +He is a noble Roman and well given. + +CAESAR +Would he were fatter! But I fear him not: +Yet if my name were liable to fear, +I do not know the man I should avoid +So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; +He is a great observer and he looks +Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, +As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; +Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort +As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit +That could be moved to smile at any thing. +Such men as he be never at heart's ease +Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, +And therefore are they very dangerous. +I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd +Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. +Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, +And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. + +Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA + +CASCA +You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me? + +BRUTUS +Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, +That Caesar looks so sad. + +CASCA +Why, you were with him, were you not? + +BRUTUS +I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. + +CASCA +Why, there was a crown offered him: and being +offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, +thus; and then the people fell a-shouting. + +BRUTUS +What was the second noise for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +CASSIUS +They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +BRUTUS +Was the crown offered him thrice? + +CASCA +Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every +time gentler than other, and at every putting-by +mine honest neighbours shouted. + +CASSIUS +Who offered him the crown? + +CASCA +Why, Antony. + +BRUTUS +Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. + +CASCA +I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: +it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark +Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown +neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told +you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my +thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he +offered it to him again; then he put it by again: +but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his +fingers off it. And then he offered it the third +time; he put it the third time by: and still as he +refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their +chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps +and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because +Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked +Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and +for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of +opening my lips and receiving the bad air. + +CASSIUS +But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? + +CASCA +He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at +mouth, and was speechless. + +BRUTUS +'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness. + +CASSIUS +No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I, +And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. + +CASCA +I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, +Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not +clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and +displeased them, as they use to do the players in +the theatre, I am no true man. + +BRUTUS +What said he when he came unto himself? + +CASCA +Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the +common herd was glad he refused the crown, he +plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his +throat to cut. An I had been a man of any +occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, +I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so +he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, +If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired +their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three +or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good +soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but +there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had +stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. + +BRUTUS +And after that, he came, thus sad, away? + +CASCA +Ay. + +CASSIUS +Did Cicero say any thing? + +CASCA +Ay, he spoke Greek. + +CASSIUS +To what effect? + +CASCA +Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the +face again: but those that understood him smiled at +one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own +part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more +news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs +off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you +well. There was more foolery yet, if I could +remember it. + +CASSIUS +Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? + +CASCA +No, I am promised forth. + +CASSIUS +Will you dine with me to-morrow? + +CASCA +Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner +worth the eating. + +CASSIUS +Good: I will expect you. + +CASCA +Do so. Farewell, both. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! +He was quick mettle when he went to school. + +CASSIUS +So is he now in execution +Of any bold or noble enterprise, +However he puts on this tardy form. +This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, +Which gives men stomach to digest his words +With better appetite. + +BRUTUS +And so it is. For this time I will leave you: +To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, +I will come home to you; or, if you will, +Come home to me, and I will wait for you. + +CASSIUS +I will do so: till then, think of the world. + +Exit BRUTUS + +Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, +Thy honourable metal may be wrought +From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet +That noble minds keep ever with their likes; +For who so firm that cannot be seduced? +Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: +If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, +He should not humour me. I will this night, +In several hands, in at his windows throw, +As if they came from several citizens, +Writings all tending to the great opinion +That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely +Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at: +And after this let Caesar seat him sure; +For we will shake him, or worse days endure. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The same. A street. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO +CICERO +Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? +Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? + +CASCA +Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth +Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, +I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds +Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen +The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, +To be exalted with the threatening clouds: +But never till to-night, never till now, +Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. +Either there is a civil strife in heaven, +Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, +Incenses them to send destruction. + +CICERO +Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? + +CASCA +A common slave--you know him well by sight-- +Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn +Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand, +Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. +Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword-- +Against the Capitol I met a lion, +Who glared upon me, and went surly by, +Without annoying me: and there were drawn +Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, +Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw +Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. +And yesterday the bird of night did sit +Even at noon-day upon the market-place, +Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies +Do so conjointly meet, let not men say +'These are their reasons; they are natural;' +For, I believe, they are portentous things +Unto the climate that they point upon. + +CICERO +Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: +But men may construe things after their fashion, +Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. +Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow? + +CASCA +He doth; for he did bid Antonius +Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. + +CICERO +Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky +Is not to walk in. + +CASCA +Farewell, Cicero. + +Exit CICERO + +Enter CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Who's there? + +CASCA +A Roman. + +CASSIUS +Casca, by your voice. + +CASCA +Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! + +CASSIUS +A very pleasing night to honest men. + +CASCA +Who ever knew the heavens menace so? + +CASSIUS +Those that have known the earth so full of faults. +For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, +Submitting me unto the perilous night, +And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, +Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; +And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open +The breast of heaven, I did present myself +Even in the aim and very flash of it. + +CASCA +But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? +It is the part of men to fear and tremble, +When the most mighty gods by tokens send +Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. + +CASSIUS +You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life +That should be in a Roman you do want, +Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze +And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, +To see the strange impatience of the heavens: +But if you would consider the true cause +Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, +Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, +Why old men fool and children calculate, +Why all these things change from their ordinance +Their natures and preformed faculties +To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find +That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, +To make them instruments of fear and warning +Unto some monstrous state. +Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man +Most like this dreadful night, +That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars +As doth the lion in the Capitol, +A man no mightier than thyself or me +In personal action, yet prodigious grown +And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. + +CASCA +'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius? + +CASSIUS +Let it be who it is: for Romans now +Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; +But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, +And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; +Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. + +CASCA +Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow +Mean to establish Caesar as a king; +And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, +In every place, save here in Italy. + +CASSIUS +I know where I will wear this dagger then; +Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: +Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; +Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: +Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, +Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, +Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; +But life, being weary of these worldly bars, +Never lacks power to dismiss itself. +If I know this, know all the world besides, +That part of tyranny that I do bear +I can shake off at pleasure. + +Thunder still + +CASCA +So can I: +So every bondman in his own hand bears +The power to cancel his captivity. + +CASSIUS +And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? +Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, +But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: +He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. +Those that with haste will make a mighty fire +Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, +What rubbish and what offal, when it serves +For the base matter to illuminate +So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, +Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this +Before a willing bondman; then I know +My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, +And dangers are to me indifferent. + +CASCA +You speak to Casca, and to such a man +That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: +Be factious for redress of all these griefs, +And I will set this foot of mine as far +As who goes farthest. + +CASSIUS +There's a bargain made. +Now know you, Casca, I have moved already +Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans +To undergo with me an enterprise +Of honourable-dangerous consequence; +And I do know, by this, they stay for me +In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night, +There is no stir or walking in the streets; +And the complexion of the element +In favour's like the work we have in hand, +Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. + +CASCA +Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. + +CASSIUS +'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; +He is a friend. + +Enter CINNA + +Cinna, where haste you so? + +CINNA +To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? + +CASSIUS +No, it is Casca; one incorporate +To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? + +CINNA +I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this! +There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. + +CASSIUS +Am I not stay'd for? tell me. + +CINNA +Yes, you are. +O Cassius, if you could +But win the noble Brutus to our party-- + +CASSIUS +Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, +And look you lay it in the praetor's chair, +Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this +In at his window; set this up with wax +Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done, +Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. +Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? + +CINNA +All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone +To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, +And so bestow these papers as you bade me. + +CASSIUS +That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. + +Exit CINNA + +Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day +See Brutus at his house: three parts of him +Is ours already, and the man entire +Upon the next encounter yields him ours. + +CASCA +O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: +And that which would appear offence in us, +His countenance, like richest alchemy, +Will change to virtue and to worthiness. + +CASSIUS +Him and his worth and our great need of him +You have right well conceited. Let us go, +For it is after midnight; and ere day +We will awake him and be sure of him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard. + +Enter BRUTUS +BRUTUS +What, Lucius, ho! +I cannot, by the progress of the stars, +Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! +I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. +When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius! + +Enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Call'd you, my lord? + +BRUTUS +Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: +When it is lighted, come and call me here. + +LUCIUS +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +It must be by his death: and for my part, +I know no personal cause to spurn at him, +But for the general. He would be crown'd: +How that might change his nature, there's the question. +It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; +And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;-- +And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, +That at his will he may do danger with. +The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins +Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, +I have not known when his affections sway'd +More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, +That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, +Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; +But when he once attains the upmost round. +He then unto the ladder turns his back, +Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees +By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. +Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel +Will bear no colour for the thing he is, +Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, +Would run to these and these extremities: +And therefore think him as a serpent's egg +Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, +And kill him in the shell. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +The taper burneth in your closet, sir. +Searching the window for a flint, I found +This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, +It did not lie there when I went to bed. + +Gives him the letter + +BRUTUS +Get you to bed again; it is not day. +Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? + +LUCIUS +I know not, sir. + +BRUTUS +Look in the calendar, and bring me word. + +LUCIUS +I will, sir. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +The exhalations whizzing in the air +Give so much light that I may read by them. + +Opens the letter and reads + +'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. +Shall Rome, & c. Speak, strike, redress! +Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' +Such instigations have been often dropp'd +Where I have took them up. +'Shall Rome, & c.' Thus must I piece it out: +Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? +My ancestors did from the streets of Rome +The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. +'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated +To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: +If the redress will follow, thou receivest +Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. + +Knocking within + +BRUTUS +'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. + +Exit LUCIUS + +Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, +I have not slept. +Between the acting of a dreadful thing +And the first motion, all the interim is +Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: +The Genius and the mortal instruments +Are then in council; and the state of man, +Like to a little kingdom, suffers then +The nature of an insurrection. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, +Who doth desire to see you. + +BRUTUS +Is he alone? + +LUCIUS +No, sir, there are moe with him. + +BRUTUS +Do you know them? + +LUCIUS +No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, +And half their faces buried in their cloaks, +That by no means I may discover them +By any mark of favour. + +BRUTUS +Let 'em enter. + +Exit LUCIUS + +They are the faction. O conspiracy, +Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, +When evils are most free? O, then by day +Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough +To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; +Hide it in smiles and affability: +For if thou path, thy native semblance on, +Not Erebus itself were dim enough +To hide thee from prevention. + +Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +I think we are too bold upon your rest: +Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? + +BRUTUS +I have been up this hour, awake all night. +Know I these men that come along with you? + +CASSIUS +Yes, every man of them, and no man here +But honours you; and every one doth wish +You had but that opinion of yourself +Which every noble Roman bears of you. +This is Trebonius. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome hither. + +CASSIUS +This, Decius Brutus. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome too. + +CASSIUS +This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. + +BRUTUS +They are all welcome. +What watchful cares do interpose themselves +Betwixt your eyes and night? + +CASSIUS +Shall I entreat a word? + +BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? + +CASCA +No. + +CINNA +O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines +That fret the clouds are messengers of day. + +CASCA +You shall confess that you are both deceived. +Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, +Which is a great way growing on the south, +Weighing the youthful season of the year. +Some two months hence up higher toward the north +He first presents his fire; and the high east +Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. + +BRUTUS +Give me your hands all over, one by one. + +CASSIUS +And let us swear our resolution. + +BRUTUS +No, not an oath: if not the face of men, +The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,-- +If these be motives weak, break off betimes, +And every man hence to his idle bed; +So let high-sighted tyranny range on, +Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, +As I am sure they do, bear fire enough +To kindle cowards and to steel with valour +The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, +What need we any spur but our own cause, +To prick us to redress? what other bond +Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, +And will not palter? and what other oath +Than honesty to honesty engaged, +That this shall be, or we will fall for it? +Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, +Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls +That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear +Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain +The even virtue of our enterprise, +Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, +To think that or our cause or our performance +Did need an oath; when every drop of blood +That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, +Is guilty of a several bastardy, +If he do break the smallest particle +Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. + +CASSIUS +But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? +I think he will stand very strong with us. + +CASCA +Let us not leave him out. + +CINNA +No, by no means. + +METELLUS CIMBER +O, let us have him, for his silver hairs +Will purchase us a good opinion +And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: +It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; +Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, +But all be buried in his gravity. + +BRUTUS +O, name him not: let us not break with him; +For he will never follow any thing +That other men begin. + +CASSIUS +Then leave him out. + +CASCA +Indeed he is not fit. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar? + +CASSIUS +Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, +Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, +Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him +A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, +If he improve them, may well stretch so far +As to annoy us all: which to prevent, +Let Antony and Caesar fall together. + +BRUTUS +Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, +To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, +Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; +For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: +Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. +We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; +And in the spirit of men there is no blood: +O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, +And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, +Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, +Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; +Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, +Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: +And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, +Stir up their servants to an act of rage, +And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make +Our purpose necessary and not envious: +Which so appearing to the common eyes, +We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. +And for Mark Antony, think not of him; +For he can do no more than Caesar's arm +When Caesar's head is off. + +CASSIUS +Yet I fear him; +For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar-- + +BRUTUS +Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: +If he love Caesar, all that he can do +Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: +And that were much he should; for he is given +To sports, to wildness and much company. + +TREBONIUS +There is no fear in him; let him not die; +For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. + +Clock strikes + +BRUTUS +Peace! count the clock. + +CASSIUS +The clock hath stricken three. + +TREBONIUS +'Tis time to part. + +CASSIUS +But it is doubtful yet, +Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no; +For he is superstitious grown of late, +Quite from the main opinion he held once +Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: +It may be, these apparent prodigies, +The unaccustom'd terror of this night, +And the persuasion of his augurers, +May hold him from the Capitol to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Never fear that: if he be so resolved, +I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear +That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, +And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, +Lions with toils and men with flatterers; +But when I tell him he hates flatterers, +He says he does, being then most flattered. +Let me work; +For I can give his humour the true bent, +And I will bring him to the Capitol. + +CASSIUS +Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. + +BRUTUS +By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? + +CINNA +Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, +Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: +I wonder none of you have thought of him. + +BRUTUS +Now, good Metellus, go along by him: +He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; +Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. + +CASSIUS +The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus. +And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember +What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. + +BRUTUS +Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; +Let not our looks put on our purposes, +But bear it as our Roman actors do, +With untired spirits and formal constancy: +And so good morrow to you every one. + +Exeunt all but BRUTUS + +Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; +Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: +Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, +Which busy care draws in the brains of men; +Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. + +Enter PORTIA + +PORTIA +Brutus, my lord! + +BRUTUS +Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? +It is not for your health thus to commit +Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. + +PORTIA +Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, +Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, +You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, +Musing and sighing, with your arms across, +And when I ask'd you what the matter was, +You stared upon me with ungentle looks; +I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, +And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; +Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, +But, with an angry wafture of your hand, +Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; +Fearing to strengthen that impatience +Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal +Hoping it was but an effect of humour, +Which sometime hath his hour with every man. +It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, +And could it work so much upon your shape +As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, +I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, +Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. + +BRUTUS +I am not well in health, and that is all. + +PORTIA +Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, +He would embrace the means to come by it. + +BRUTUS +Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. + +PORTIA +Is Brutus sick? and is it physical +To walk unbraced and suck up the humours +Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, +And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, +To dare the vile contagion of the night +And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air +To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; +You have some sick offence within your mind, +Which, by the right and virtue of my place, +I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, +I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, +By all your vows of love and that great vow +Which did incorporate and make us one, +That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, +Why you are heavy, and what men to-night +Have had to resort to you: for here have been +Some six or seven, who did hide their faces +Even from darkness. + +BRUTUS +Kneel not, gentle Portia. + +PORTIA +I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. +Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, +Is it excepted I should know no secrets +That appertain to you? Am I yourself +But, as it were, in sort or limitation, +To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, +And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs +Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, +Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. + +BRUTUS +You are my true and honourable wife, +As dear to me as are the ruddy drops +That visit my sad heart + +PORTIA +If this were true, then should I know this secret. +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. +Think you I am no stronger than my sex, +Being so father'd and so husbanded? +Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: +I have made strong proof of my constancy, +Giving myself a voluntary wound +Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. +And not my husband's secrets? + +BRUTUS +O ye gods, +Render me worthy of this noble wife! + +Knocking within + +Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; +And by and by thy bosom shall partake +The secrets of my heart. +All my engagements I will construe to thee, +All the charactery of my sad brows: +Leave me with haste. + +Exit PORTIA + +Lucius, who's that knocks? + +Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS + +LUCIUS +He is a sick man that would speak with you. + +BRUTUS +Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. +Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? + +LIGARIUS +Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. + +BRUTUS +O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, +To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! + +LIGARIUS +I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand +Any exploit worthy the name of honour. + +BRUTUS +Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, +Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. + +LIGARIUS +By all the gods that Romans bow before, +I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! +Brave son, derived from honourable loins! +Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up +My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, +And I will strive with things impossible; +Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? + +BRUTUS +A piece of work that will make sick men whole. + +LIGARIUS +But are not some whole that we must make sick? + +BRUTUS +That must we also. What it is, my Caius, +I shall unfold to thee, as we are going +To whom it must be done. + +LIGARIUS +Set on your foot, +And with a heart new-fired I follow you, +To do I know not what: but it sufficeth +That Brutus leads me on. + +BRUTUS +Follow me, then. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. CAESAR's house. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown +CAESAR +Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: +Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, +'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within? + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord? + +CAESAR +Go bid the priests do present sacrifice +And bring me their opinions of success. + +Servant +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +Enter CALPURNIA + +CALPURNIA +What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth? +You shall not stir out of your house to-day. + +CAESAR +Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me +Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see +The face of Caesar, they are vanished. + +CALPURNIA +Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies, +Yet now they fright me. There is one within, +Besides the things that we have heard and seen, +Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. +A lioness hath whelped in the streets; +And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; +Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, +In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, +Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; +The noise of battle hurtled in the air, +Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, +And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. +O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, +And I do fear them. + +CAESAR +What can be avoided +Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? +Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions +Are to the world in general as to Caesar. + +CALPURNIA +When beggars die, there are no comets seen; +The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. + +CAESAR +Cowards die many times before their deaths; +The valiant never taste of death but once. +Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. +It seems to me most strange that men should fear; +Seeing that death, a necessary end, +Will come when it will come. + +Re-enter Servant + +What say the augurers? + +Servant +They would not have you to stir forth to-day. +Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, +They could not find a heart within the beast. + +CAESAR +The gods do this in shame of cowardice: +Caesar should be a beast without a heart, +If he should stay at home to-day for fear. +No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well +That Caesar is more dangerous than he: +We are two lions litter'd in one day, +And I the elder and more terrible: +And Caesar shall go forth. + +CALPURNIA +Alas, my lord, +Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. +Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear +That keeps you in the house, and not your own. +We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house: +And he shall say you are not well to-day: +Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. + +CAESAR +Mark Antony shall say I am not well, +And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. + +Enter DECIUS BRUTUS + +Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar: +I come to fetch you to the senate-house. + +CAESAR +And you are come in very happy time, +To bear my greeting to the senators +And tell them that I will not come to-day: +Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: +I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. + +CALPURNIA +Say he is sick. + +CAESAR +Shall Caesar send a lie? +Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far, +To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth? +Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, +Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so. + +CAESAR +The cause is in my will: I will not come; +That is enough to satisfy the senate. +But for your private satisfaction, +Because I love you, I will let you know: +Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: +She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, +Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, +Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans +Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: +And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, +And evils imminent; and on her knee +Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +This dream is all amiss interpreted; +It was a vision fair and fortunate: +Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +In which so many smiling Romans bathed, +Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck +Reviving blood, and that great men shall press +For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. +This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. + +CAESAR +And this way have you well expounded it. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +I have, when you have heard what I can say: +And know it now: the senate have concluded +To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. +If you shall send them word you will not come, +Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock +Apt to be render'd, for some one to say +'Break up the senate till another time, +When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' +If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper +'Lo, Caesar is afraid'? +Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love +To our proceeding bids me tell you this; +And reason to my love is liable. + +CAESAR +How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! +I am ashamed I did yield to them. +Give me my robe, for I will go. + +Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA + +And look where Publius is come to fetch me. + +PUBLIUS +Good morrow, Caesar. + +CAESAR +Welcome, Publius. +What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? +Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, +Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy +As that same ague which hath made you lean. +What is 't o'clock? + +BRUTUS +Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. + +CAESAR +I thank you for your pains and courtesy. + +Enter ANTONY + +See! Antony, that revels long o' nights, +Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. + +ANTONY +So to most noble Caesar. + +CAESAR +Bid them prepare within: +I am to blame to be thus waited for. +Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! +I have an hour's talk in store for you; +Remember that you call on me to-day: +Be near me, that I may remember you. + +TREBONIUS +Caesar, I will: + +Aside + +and so near will I be, +That your best friends shall wish I had been further. + +CAESAR +Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; +And we, like friends, will straightway go together. + +BRUTUS +[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar, +The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A street near the Capitol. + +Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper +ARTEMIDORUS +'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; +come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not +Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus +loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. +There is but one mind in all these men, and it is +bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, +look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. +The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, +'ARTEMIDORUS.' +Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, +And as a suitor will I give him this. +My heart laments that virtue cannot live +Out of the teeth of emulation. +If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; +If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS. + +Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS +PORTIA +I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; +Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: +Why dost thou stay? + +LUCIUS +To know my errand, madam. + +PORTIA +I would have had thee there, and here again, +Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. +O constancy, be strong upon my side, +Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! +I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. +How hard it is for women to keep counsel! +Art thou here yet? + +LUCIUS +Madam, what should I do? +Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? +And so return to you, and nothing else? + +PORTIA +Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, +For he went sickly forth: and take good note +What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. +Hark, boy! what noise is that? + +LUCIUS +I hear none, madam. + +PORTIA +Prithee, listen well; +I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, +And the wind brings it from the Capitol. + +LUCIUS +Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. + +Enter the Soothsayer + +PORTIA +Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been? + +Soothsayer +At mine own house, good lady. + +PORTIA +What is't o'clock? + +Soothsayer +About the ninth hour, lady. + +PORTIA +Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? + +Soothsayer +Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, +To see him pass on to the Capitol. + +PORTIA +Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not? + +Soothsayer +That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar +To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, +I shall beseech him to befriend himself. + +PORTIA +Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him? + +Soothsayer +None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. +Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: +The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, +Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, +Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: +I'll get me to a place more void, and there +Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. + +Exit + +PORTIA +I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing +The heart of woman is! O Brutus, +The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! +Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit +That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. +Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; +Say I am merry: come to me again, +And bring me word what he doth say to thee. + +Exeunt severally + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. + +A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others +CAESAR +[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come. + +Soothsayer +Ay, Caesar; but not gone. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Hail, Caesar! read this schedule. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, +At your best leisure, this his humble suit. + +ARTEMIDORUS +O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit +That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar. + +CAESAR +What touches us ourself shall be last served. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly. + +CAESAR +What, is the fellow mad? + +PUBLIUS +Sirrah, give place. + +CASSIUS +What, urge you your petitions in the street? +Come to the Capitol. + +CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following + +POPILIUS +I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. + +CASSIUS +What enterprise, Popilius? + +POPILIUS +Fare you well. + +Advances to CAESAR + +BRUTUS +What said Popilius Lena? + +CASSIUS +He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. +I fear our purpose is discovered. + +BRUTUS +Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him. + +CASSIUS +Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. +Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, +Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, +For I will slay myself. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, be constant: +Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; +For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. + +CASSIUS +Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus. +He draws Mark Antony out of the way. + +Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, +And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. + +BRUTUS +He is address'd: press near and second him. + +CINNA +Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. + +CAESAR +Are we all ready? What is now amiss +That Caesar and his senate must redress? + +METELLUS CIMBER +Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, +Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat +An humble heart,-- + +Kneeling + +CAESAR +I must prevent thee, Cimber. +These couchings and these lowly courtesies +Might fire the blood of ordinary men, +And turn pre-ordinance and first decree +Into the law of children. Be not fond, +To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood +That will be thaw'd from the true quality +With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, +Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. +Thy brother by decree is banished: +If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, +I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. +Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause +Will he be satisfied. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Is there no voice more worthy than my own +To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear +For the repealing of my banish'd brother? + +BRUTUS +I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; +Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may +Have an immediate freedom of repeal. + +CAESAR +What, Brutus! + +CASSIUS +Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: +As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, +To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. + +CASSIUS +I could be well moved, if I were as you: +If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: +But I am constant as the northern star, +Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality +There is no fellow in the firmament. +The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, +They are all fire and every one doth shine, +But there's but one in all doth hold his place: +So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, +And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; +Yet in the number I do know but one +That unassailable holds on his rank, +Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, +Let me a little show it, even in this; +That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, +And constant do remain to keep him so. + +CINNA +O Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Great Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? + +CASCA +Speak, hands for me! + +CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR + +CAESAR +Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar. + +Dies + +CINNA +Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! +Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. + +CASSIUS +Some to the common pulpits, and cry out +'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!' + +BRUTUS +People and senators, be not affrighted; +Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid. + +CASCA +Go to the pulpit, Brutus. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +And Cassius too. + +BRUTUS +Where's Publius? + +CINNA +Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's +Should chance-- + +BRUTUS +Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; +There is no harm intended to your person, +Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. + +CASSIUS +And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, +Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. + +BRUTUS +Do so: and let no man abide this deed, +But we the doers. + +Re-enter TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +Where is Antony? + +TREBONIUS +Fled to his house amazed: +Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run +As it were doomsday. + +BRUTUS +Fates, we will know your pleasures: +That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time +And drawing days out, that men stand upon. + +CASSIUS +Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life +Cuts off so many years of fearing death. + +BRUTUS +Grant that, and then is death a benefit: +So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged +His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, +And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood +Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: +Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, +And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, +Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' + +CASSIUS +Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence +Shall this our lofty scene be acted over +In states unborn and accents yet unknown! + +BRUTUS +How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, +That now on Pompey's basis lies along +No worthier than the dust! + +CASSIUS +So oft as that shall be, +So often shall the knot of us be call'd +The men that gave their country liberty. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +What, shall we forth? + +CASSIUS +Ay, every man away: +Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels +With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. + +Enter a Servant + +BRUTUS +Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. + +Servant +Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: +Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; +And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: +Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; +Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: +Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; +Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him. +If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony +May safely come to him, and be resolved +How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, +Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead +So well as Brutus living; but will follow +The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus +Thorough the hazards of this untrod state +With all true faith. So says my master Antony. + +BRUTUS +Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; +I never thought him worse. +Tell him, so please him come unto this place, +He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, +Depart untouch'd. + +Servant +I'll fetch him presently. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +I know that we shall have him well to friend. + +CASSIUS +I wish we may: but yet have I a mind +That fears him much; and my misgiving still +Falls shrewdly to the purpose. + +BRUTUS +But here comes Antony. + +Re-enter ANTONY + +Welcome, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? +Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, +Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. +I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, +Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: +If I myself, there is no hour so fit +As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument +Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich +With the most noble blood of all this world. +I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, +Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, +Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, +I shall not find myself so apt to die: +No place will please me so, no mean of death, +As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, +The choice and master spirits of this age. + +BRUTUS +O Antony, beg not your death of us. +Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, +As, by our hands and this our present act, +You see we do, yet see you but our hands +And this the bleeding business they have done: +Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; +And pity to the general wrong of Rome-- +As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-- +Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, +To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: +Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts +Of brothers' temper, do receive you in +With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. + +CASSIUS +Your voice shall be as strong as any man's +In the disposing of new dignities. + +BRUTUS +Only be patient till we have appeased +The multitude, beside themselves with fear, +And then we will deliver you the cause, +Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, +Have thus proceeded. + +ANTONY +I doubt not of your wisdom. +Let each man render me his bloody hand: +First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; +Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; +Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; +Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; +Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. +Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say? +My credit now stands on such slippery ground, +That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, +Either a coward or a flatterer. +That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true: +If then thy spirit look upon us now, +Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, +To see thy thy Anthony making his peace, +Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, +Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? +Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, +Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, +It would become me better than to close +In terms of friendship with thine enemies. +Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; +Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, +Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe. +O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; +And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. +How like a deer, strucken by many princes, +Dost thou here lie! + +CASSIUS +Mark Antony,-- + +ANTONY +Pardon me, Caius Cassius: +The enemies of Caesar shall say this; +Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. + +CASSIUS +I blame you not for praising Caesar so; +But what compact mean you to have with us? +Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; +Or shall we on, and not depend on you? + +ANTONY +Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, +Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. +Friends am I with you all and love you all, +Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons +Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. + +BRUTUS +Or else were this a savage spectacle: +Our reasons are so full of good regard +That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, +You should be satisfied. + +ANTONY +That's all I seek: +And am moreover suitor that I may +Produce his body to the market-place; +And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, +Speak in the order of his funeral. + +BRUTUS +You shall, Mark Antony. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, a word with you. + +Aside to BRUTUS + +You know not what you do: do not consent +That Antony speak in his funeral: +Know you how much the people may be moved +By that which he will utter? + +BRUTUS +By your pardon; +I will myself into the pulpit first, +And show the reason of our Caesar's death: +What Antony shall speak, I will protest +He speaks by leave and by permission, +And that we are contented Caesar shall +Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. +It shall advantage more than do us wrong. + +CASSIUS +I know not what may fall; I like it not. + +BRUTUS +Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. +You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, +But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, +And say you do't by our permission; +Else shall you not have any hand at all +About his funeral: and you shall speak +In the same pulpit whereto I am going, +After my speech is ended. + +ANTONY +Be it so. +I do desire no more. + +BRUTUS +Prepare the body then, and follow us. + +Exeunt all but ANTONY + +ANTONY +O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, +That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! +Thou art the ruins of the noblest man +That ever lived in the tide of times. +Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! +Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-- +Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, +To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue-- +A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; +Domestic fury and fierce civil strife +Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; +Blood and destruction shall be so in use +And dreadful objects so familiar +That mothers shall but smile when they behold +Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war; +All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: +And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, +With Ate by his side come hot from hell, +Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice +Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; +That this foul deed shall smell above the earth +With carrion men, groaning for burial. + +Enter a Servant + +You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? + +Servant +I do, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. + +Servant +He did receive his letters, and is coming; +And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- +O Caesar!-- + +Seeing the body + +ANTONY +Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. +Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, +Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, +Began to water. Is thy master coming? + +Servant +He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. + +ANTONY +Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: +Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, +No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; +Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; +Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse +Into the market-place: there shall I try +In my oration, how the people take +The cruel issue of these bloody men; +According to the which, thou shalt discourse +To young Octavius of the state of things. +Lend me your hand. + +Exeunt with CAESAR's body + +SCENE II. The Forum. + +Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens +Citizens +We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied. + +BRUTUS +Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. +Cassius, go you into the other street, +And part the numbers. +Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; +Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; +And public reasons shall be rendered +Of Caesar's death. + +King Lear +Shakespeare homepage | King Lear | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. King Lear's palace. + +Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND +KENT +I thought the king had more affected the Duke of +Albany than Cornwall. + +GLOUCESTER +It did always seem so to us: but now, in the +division of the kingdom, it appears not which of +the dukes he values most; for equalities are so +weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice +of either's moiety. + +KENT +Is not this your son, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have +so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am +brazed to it. + +KENT +I cannot conceive you. + +GLOUCESTER +Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon +she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son +for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. +Do you smell a fault? + +KENT +I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it +being so proper. + +GLOUCESTER +But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year +elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: +though this knave came something saucily into the +world before he was sent for, yet was his mother +fair; there was good sport at his making, and the +whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this +noble gentleman, Edmund? + +EDMUND +No, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my +honourable friend. + +EDMUND +My services to your lordship. + +KENT +I must love you, and sue to know you better. + +EDMUND +Sir, I shall study deserving. + +GLOUCESTER +He hath been out nine years, and away he shall +again. The king is coming. + +Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. + +GLOUCESTER +I shall, my liege. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND + +KING LEAR +Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. +Give me the map there. Know that we have divided +In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent +To shake all cares and business from our age; +Conferring them on younger strengths, while we +Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, +And you, our no less loving son of Albany, +We have this hour a constant will to publish +Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife +May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, +Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, +Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, +And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,-- +Since now we will divest us both of rule, +Interest of territory, cares of state,-- +Which of you shall we say doth love us most? +That we our largest bounty may extend +Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, +Our eldest-born, speak first. + +GONERIL +Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; +Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; +Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; +No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; +As much as child e'er loved, or father found; +A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; +Beyond all manner of so much I love you. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] What shall Cordelia do? +Love, and be silent. + +LEAR +Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, +With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, +With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, +We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue +Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, +Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak. + +REGAN +Sir, I am made +Of the self-same metal that my sister is, +And prize me at her worth. In my true heart +I find she names my very deed of love; +Only she comes too short: that I profess +Myself an enemy to all other joys, +Which the most precious square of sense possesses; +And find I am alone felicitate +In your dear highness' love. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] Then poor Cordelia! +And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's +More richer than my tongue. + +KING LEAR +To thee and thine hereditary ever +Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; +No less in space, validity, and pleasure, +Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy, +Although the last, not least; to whose young love +The vines of France and milk of Burgundy +Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw +A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. + +CORDELIA +Nothing, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Nothing! + +CORDELIA +Nothing. + +KING LEAR +Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. + +CORDELIA +Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave +My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty +According to my bond; nor more nor less. + +KING LEAR +How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, +Lest it may mar your fortunes. + +CORDELIA +Good my lord, +You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I +Return those duties back as are right fit, +Obey you, love you, and most honour you. +Why have my sisters husbands, if they say +They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, +That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry +Half my love with him, half my care and duty: +Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, +To love my father all. + +KING LEAR +But goes thy heart with this? + +CORDELIA +Ay, good my lord. + +KING LEAR +So young, and so untender? + +CORDELIA +So young, my lord, and true. + +KING LEAR +Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower: +For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, +The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; +By all the operation of the orbs +From whom we do exist, and cease to be; +Here I disclaim all my paternal care, +Propinquity and property of blood, +And as a stranger to my heart and me +Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, +Or he that makes his generation messes +To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom +Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved, +As thou my sometime daughter. + +KENT +Good my liege,-- + +KING LEAR +Peace, Kent! +Come not between the dragon and his wrath. +I loved her most, and thought to set my rest +On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight! +So be my grave my peace, as here I give +Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs? +Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany, +With my two daughters' dowers digest this third: +Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. +I do invest you jointly with my power, +Pre-eminence, and all the large effects +That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, +With reservation of an hundred knights, +By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode +Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain +The name, and all the additions to a king; +The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, +Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, +This coronet part betwixt you. + +Giving the crown + +KENT +Royal Lear, +Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, +Loved as my father, as my master follow'd, +As my great patron thought on in my prayers,-- + +KING LEAR +The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft. + +KENT +Let it fall rather, though the fork invade +The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, +When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man? +Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, +When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound, +When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; +And, in thy best consideration, cheque +This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment, +Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; +Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound +Reverbs no hollowness. + +KING LEAR +Kent, on thy life, no more. + +KENT +My life I never held but as a pawn +To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it, +Thy safety being the motive. + +KING LEAR +Out of my sight! + +KENT +See better, Lear; and let me still remain +The true blank of thine eye. + +KING LEAR +Now, by Apollo,-- + +KENT +Now, by Apollo, king, +Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. + +KING LEAR +O, vassal! miscreant! + +Laying his hand on his sword + +ALBANY CORNWALL +Dear sir, forbear. + +KENT +Do: +Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow +Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom; +Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, +I'll tell thee thou dost evil. + +KING LEAR +Hear me, recreant! +On thine allegiance, hear me! +Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow, +Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride +To come between our sentence and our power, +Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, +Our potency made good, take thy reward. +Five days we do allot thee, for provision +To shield thee from diseases of the world; +And on the sixth to turn thy hated back +Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following, +Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, +The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter, +This shall not be revoked. + +KENT +Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, +Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. + +To CORDELIA + +The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, +That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said! + +To REGAN and GONERIL + +And your large speeches may your deeds approve, +That good effects may spring from words of love. +Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; +He'll shape his old course in a country new. + +Exit + +Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants + +GLOUCESTER +Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. + +KING LEAR +My lord of Burgundy. +We first address towards you, who with this king +Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least, +Will you require in present dower with her, +Or cease your quest of love? + +BURGUNDY +Most royal majesty, +I crave no more than what your highness offer'd, +Nor will you tender less. + +KING LEAR +Right noble Burgundy, +When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; +But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands: +If aught within that little seeming substance, +Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, +And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, +She's there, and she is yours. + +BURGUNDY +I know no answer. + +KING LEAR +Will you, with those infirmities she owes, +Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, +Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath, +Take her, or leave her? + +BURGUNDY +Pardon me, royal sir; +Election makes not up on such conditions. + +KING LEAR +Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, +I tell you all her wealth. + +To KING OF FRANCE + +For you, great king, +I would not from your love make such a stray, +To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you +To avert your liking a more worthier way +Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed +Almost to acknowledge hers. + +KING OF FRANCE +This is most strange, +That she, that even but now was your best object, +The argument of your praise, balm of your age, +Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time +Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle +So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence +Must be of such unnatural degree, +That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection +Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her, +Must be a faith that reason without miracle +Could never plant in me. + +CORDELIA +I yet beseech your majesty,-- +If for I want that glib and oily art, +To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, +I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known +It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, +No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, +That hath deprived me of your grace and favour; +But even for want of that for which I am richer, +A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue +As I am glad I have not, though not to have it +Hath lost me in your liking. + +KING LEAR +Better thou +Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better. + +KING OF FRANCE +Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature +Which often leaves the history unspoke +That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, +What say you to the lady? Love's not love +When it is mingled with regards that stand +Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? +She is herself a dowry. + +BURGUNDY +Royal Lear, +Give but that portion which yourself proposed, +And here I take Cordelia by the hand, +Duchess of Burgundy. + +KING LEAR +Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. + +BURGUNDY +I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father +That you must lose a husband. + +CORDELIA +Peace be with Burgundy! +Since that respects of fortune are his love, +I shall not be his wife. + +KING OF FRANCE +Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; +Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! +Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: +Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. +Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect +My love should kindle to inflamed respect. +Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, +Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: +Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy +Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. +Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: +Thou losest here, a better where to find. + +KING LEAR +Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we +Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see +That face of hers again. Therefore be gone +Without our grace, our love, our benison. +Come, noble Burgundy. + +Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA + +KING OF FRANCE +Bid farewell to your sisters. + +CORDELIA +The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes +Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; +And like a sister am most loath to call +Your faults as they are named. Use well our father: +To your professed bosoms I commit him +But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, +I would prefer him to a better place. +So, farewell to you both. + +REGAN +Prescribe not us our duties. + +GONERIL +Let your study +Be to content your lord, who hath received you +At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, +And well are worth the want that you have wanted. + +CORDELIA +Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: +Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. +Well may you prosper! + +KING OF FRANCE +Come, my fair Cordelia. + +Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA + +GONERIL +Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what +most nearly appertains to us both. I think our +father will hence to-night. + +REGAN +That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. + +GONERIL +You see how full of changes his age is; the +observation we have made of it hath not been +little: he always loved our sister most; and +with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off +appears too grossly. + +REGAN +'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever +but slenderly known himself. + +GONERIL +The best and soundest of his time hath been but +rash; then must we look to receive from his age, +not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed +condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness +that infirm and choleric years bring with them. + +REGAN +Such unconstant starts are we like to have from +him as this of Kent's banishment. + +GONERIL +There is further compliment of leavetaking +between France and him. Pray you, let's hit +together: if our father carry authority with +such dispositions as he bears, this last +surrender of his will but offend us. + +REGAN +We shall further think on't. + +GONERIL +We must do something, and i' the heat. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, with a letter +EDMUND +Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law +My services are bound. Wherefore should I +Stand in the plague of custom, and permit +The curiosity of nations to deprive me, +For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines +Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? +When my dimensions are as well compact, +My mind as generous, and my shape as true, +As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us +With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? +Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take +More composition and fierce quality +Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, +Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, +Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then, +Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: +Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund +As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate! +Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, +And my invention thrive, Edmund the base +Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: +Now, gods, stand up for bastards! + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted! +And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! +Confined to exhibition! All this done +Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news? + +EDMUND +So please your lordship, none. + +Putting up the letter + +GLOUCESTER +Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? + +EDMUND +I know no news, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +What paper were you reading? + +EDMUND +Nothing, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of +it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath +not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come, +if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. + +EDMUND +I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter +from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; +and for so much as I have perused, I find it not +fit for your o'er-looking. + +GLOUCESTER +Give me the letter, sir. + +EDMUND +I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The +contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. + +GLOUCESTER +Let's see, let's see. + +EDMUND +I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote +this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'This policy and reverence of age makes +the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps +our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish +them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage +in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not +as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to +me, that of this I may speak more. If our father +would sleep till I waked him, you should half his +revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your +brother, EDGAR.' +Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you +should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar! +Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain +to breed it in?--When came this to you? who +brought it? + +EDMUND +It was not brought me, my lord; there's the +cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the +casement of my closet. + +GLOUCESTER +You know the character to be your brother's? + +EDMUND +If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear +it were his; but, in respect of that, I would +fain think it were not. + +GLOUCESTER +It is his. + +EDMUND +It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is +not in the contents. + +GLOUCESTER +Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business? + +EDMUND +Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft +maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, +and fathers declining, the father should be as +ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue. + +GLOUCESTER +O villain, villain! His very opinion in the +letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, +brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, +seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain! +Where is he? + +EDMUND +I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please +you to suspend your indignation against my +brother till you can derive from him better +testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain +course; where, if you violently proceed against +him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great +gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the +heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life +for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my +affection to your honour, and to no further +pretence of danger. + +GLOUCESTER +Think you so? + +EDMUND +If your honour judge it meet, I will place you +where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an +auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and +that without any further delay than this very evening. + +GLOUCESTER +He cannot be such a monster-- + +EDMUND +Nor is not, sure. + +GLOUCESTER +To his father, that so tenderly and entirely +loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him +out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the +business after your own wisdom. I would unstate +myself, to be in a due resolution. + +EDMUND +I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the +business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal. + +GLOUCESTER +These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend +no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can +reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself +scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, +friendship falls off, brothers divide: in +cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in +palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son +and father. This villain of mine comes under the +prediction; there's son against father: the king +falls from bias of nature; there's father against +child. We have seen the best of our time: +machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all +ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our +graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall +lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the +noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his +offence, honesty! 'Tis strange. + +Exit + +EDMUND +This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, +when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit +of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our +disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as +if we were villains by necessity; fools by +heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and +treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, +liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of +planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, +by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion +of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish +disposition to the charge of a star! My +father compounded with my mother under the +dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa +major; so that it follows, I am rough and +lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, +had the maidenliest star in the firmament +twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar-- + +Enter EDGAR + +And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old +comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a +sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do +portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi. + +EDGAR +How now, brother Edmund! what serious +contemplation are you in? + +EDMUND +I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read +this other day, what should follow these eclipses. + +EDGAR +Do you busy yourself about that? + +EDMUND +I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed +unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child +and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of +ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and +maledictions against king and nobles; needless +diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation +of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. + +EDGAR +How long have you been a sectary astronomical? + +EDMUND +Come, come; when saw you my father last? + +EDGAR +Why, the night gone by. + +EDMUND +Spake you with him? + +EDGAR +Ay, two hours together. + +EDMUND +Parted you in good terms? Found you no +displeasure in him by word or countenance? + +EDGAR +None at all. + +EDMUND +Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended +him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence +till some little time hath qualified the heat of +his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth +in him, that with the mischief of your person it +would scarcely allay. + +EDGAR +Some villain hath done me wrong. + +EDMUND +That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent +forbearance till the spied of his rage goes +slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my +lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to +hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key: +if you do stir abroad, go armed. + +EDGAR +Armed, brother! + +EDMUND +Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I +am no honest man if there be any good meaning +towards you: I have told you what I have seen +and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image +and horror of it: pray you, away. + +EDGAR +Shall I hear from you anon? + +EDMUND +I do serve you in this business. + +Exit EDGAR + +A credulous father! and a brother noble, +Whose nature is so far from doing harms, +That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty +My practises ride easy! I see the business. +Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: +All with me's meet that I can fashion fit. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace. + +Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward +GONERIL +Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +By day and night he wrongs me; every hour +He flashes into one gross crime or other, +That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it: +His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us +On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, +I will not speak with him; say I am sick: +If you come slack of former services, +You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. + +OSWALD +He's coming, madam; I hear him. + +Horns within + +GONERIL +Put on what weary negligence you please, +You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question: +If he dislike it, let him to our sister, +Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, +Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man, +That still would manage those authorities +That he hath given away! Now, by my life, +Old fools are babes again; and must be used +With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused. +Remember what I tell you. + +OSWALD +Well, madam. + +GONERIL +And let his knights have colder looks among you; +What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: +I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, +That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister, +To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in the same. + +Enter KENT, disguised +KENT +If but as well I other accents borrow, +That can my speech defuse, my good intent +May carry through itself to that full issue +For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent, +If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd, +So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest, +Shall find thee full of labours. + +Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. + +Exit an Attendant + +How now! what art thou? + +KENT +A man, sir. + +KING LEAR +What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us? + +KENT +I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve +him truly that will put me in trust: to love him +that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, +and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I +cannot choose; and to eat no fish. + +KING LEAR +What art thou? + +KENT +A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. + +KING LEAR +If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a +king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? + +KENT +Service. + +KING LEAR +Who wouldst thou serve? + +KENT +You. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou know me, fellow? + +KENT +No, sir; but you have that in your countenance +which I would fain call master. + +KING LEAR +What's that? + +KENT +Authority. + +KING LEAR +What services canst thou do? + +KENT +I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious +tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message +bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am +qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. + +KING LEAR +How old art thou? + +KENT +Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor +so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years +on my back forty eight. + +KING LEAR +Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no +worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. +Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? +Go you, and call my fool hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +Enter OSWALD + +You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? + +OSWALD +So please you,-- + +Exit + +KING LEAR +What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. + +Exit a Knight + +Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep. + +Re-enter Knight + +How now! where's that mongrel? + +Knight +He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. + +KING LEAR +Why came not the slave back to me when I called him. + +Knight +Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would +not. + +KING LEAR +He would not! + +Knight +My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my +judgment, your highness is not entertained with that +ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a +great abatement of kindness appears as well in the +general dependants as in the duke himself also and +your daughter. + +KING LEAR +Ha! sayest thou so? + +Knight +I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; +for my duty cannot be silent when I think your +highness wronged. + +KING LEAR +Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I +have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I +have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity +than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: +I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I +have not seen him this two days. + +Knight +Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the +fool hath much pined away. + +KING LEAR +No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and +tell my daughter I would speak with her. + +Exit an Attendant + +Go you, call hither my fool. + +Exit an Attendant + +Re-enter OSWALD + +O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, +sir? + +OSWALD +My lady's father. + +KING LEAR +'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your +whoreson dog! you slave! you cur! + +OSWALD +I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon. + +KING LEAR +Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? + +Striking him + +OSWALD +I'll not be struck, my lord. + +KENT +Nor tripped neither, you base football player. + +Tripping up his heels + +KING LEAR +I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll +love thee. + +KENT +Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: +away, away! if you will measure your lubber's +length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you +wisdom? so. + +Pushes OSWALD out + +KING LEAR +Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's +earnest of thy service. + +Giving KENT money + +Enter Fool + +Fool +Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb. + +Offering KENT his cap + +KING LEAR +How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou? + +Fool +Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. + +KENT +Why, fool? + +Fool +Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour: +nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, +thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: +why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters, +and did the third a blessing against his will; if +thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. +How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters! + +KING LEAR +Why, my boy? + +Fool +If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs +myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters. + +KING LEAR +Take heed, sirrah; the whip. + +Fool +Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped +out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink. + +KING LEAR +A pestilent gall to me! + +Fool +Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. + +KING LEAR +Do. + +Fool +Mark it, nuncle: +Have more than thou showest, +Speak less than thou knowest, +Lend less than thou owest, +Ride more than thou goest, +Learn more than thou trowest, +Set less than thou throwest; +Leave thy drink and thy whore, +And keep in-a-door, +And thou shalt have more +Than two tens to a score. + +KENT +This is nothing, fool. + +Fool +Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you +gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of +nothing, nuncle? + +KING LEAR +Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing. + +Fool +[To KENT] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of +his land comes to: he will not believe a fool. + +KING LEAR +A bitter fool! + +Fool +Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a +bitter fool and a sweet fool? + +KING LEAR +No, lad; teach me. + +Fool +That lord that counsell'd thee +To give away thy land, +Come place him here by me, +Do thou for him stand: +The sweet and bitter fool +Will presently appear; +The one in motley here, +The other found out there. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou call me fool, boy? + +Fool +All thy other titles thou hast given away; that +thou wast born with. + +KENT +This is not altogether fool, my lord. + +Fool +No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if +I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: +and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool +to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg, +nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns. + +KING LEAR +What two crowns shall they be? + +Fool +Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat +up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou +clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away +both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er +the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, +when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak +like myself in this, let him be whipped that first +finds it so. + +Singing + +Fools had ne'er less wit in a year; +For wise men are grown foppish, +They know not how their wits to wear, +Their manners are so apish. + +KING LEAR +When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? + +Fool +I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy +daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them +the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches, + +Singing + +Then they for sudden joy did weep, +And I for sorrow sung, +That such a king should play bo-peep, +And go the fools among. +Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach +thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie. + +KING LEAR +An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. + +Fool +I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: +they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt +have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am +whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any +kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be +thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, +and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o' +the parings. + +Enter GONERIL + +KING LEAR +How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? +Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown. + +Fool +Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to +care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a +figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, +thou art nothing. + +To GONERIL + +Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face +bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, +He that keeps nor crust nor crum, +Weary of all, shall want some. + +Pointing to KING LEAR + +That's a shealed peascod. + +GONERIL +Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, +But other of your insolent retinue +Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth +In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir, +I had thought, by making this well known unto you, +To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful, +By what yourself too late have spoke and done. +That you protect this course, and put it on +By your allowance; which if you should, the fault +Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, +Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, +Might in their working do you that offence, +Which else were shame, that then necessity +Will call discreet proceeding. + +Fool +For, you trow, nuncle, +The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, +That it's had it head bit off by it young. +So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling. + +KING LEAR +Are you our daughter? + +GONERIL +Come, sir, +I would you would make use of that good wisdom, +Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away +These dispositions, that of late transform you +From what you rightly are. + +Fool +May not an ass know when the cart +draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee. + +KING LEAR +Doth any here know me? This is not Lear: +Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes? +Either his notion weakens, his discernings +Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so. +Who is it that can tell me who I am? + +Fool +Lear's shadow. + +KING LEAR +I would learn that; for, by the +marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, +I should be false persuaded I had daughters. + +Fool +Which they will make an obedient father. + +KING LEAR +Your name, fair gentlewoman? + +GONERIL +This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour +Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you +To understand my purposes aright: +As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. +Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; +Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold, +That this our court, infected with their manners, +Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust +Make it more like a tavern or a brothel +Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak +For instant remedy: be then desired +By her, that else will take the thing she begs, +A little to disquantity your train; +And the remainder, that shall still depend, +To be such men as may besort your age, +And know themselves and you. + +KING LEAR +Darkness and devils! +Saddle my horses; call my train together: +Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee. +Yet have I left a daughter. + +GONERIL +You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble +Make servants of their betters. + +Enter ALBANY + +KING LEAR +Woe, that too late repents,-- + +To ALBANY + +O, sir, are you come? +Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses. +Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, +More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child +Than the sea-monster! + +ALBANY +Pray, sir, be patient. + +KING LEAR +[To GONERIL] Detested kite! thou liest. +My train are men of choice and rarest parts, +That all particulars of duty know, +And in the most exact regard support +The worships of their name. O most small fault, +How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! +That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature +From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love, +And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! +Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, + +Striking his head + +And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people. + +ALBANY +My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant +Of what hath moved you. + +KING LEAR +It may be so, my lord. +Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! +Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend +To make this creature fruitful! +Into her womb convey sterility! +Dry up in her the organs of increase; +And from her derogate body never spring +A babe to honour her! If she must teem, +Create her child of spleen; that it may live, +And be a thwart disnatured torment to her! +Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; +With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; +Turn all her mother's pains and benefits +To laughter and contempt; that she may feel +How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is +To have a thankless child! Away, away! + +Exit + +ALBANY +Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? + +GONERIL +Never afflict yourself to know the cause; +But let his disposition have that scope +That dotage gives it. + +Re-enter KING LEAR + +KING LEAR +What, fifty of my followers at a clap! +Within a fortnight! + +ALBANY +What's the matter, sir? + +KING LEAR +I'll tell thee: + +To GONERIL + +Life and death! I am ashamed +That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; +That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, +Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! +The untented woundings of a father's curse +Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, +Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out, +And cast you, with the waters that you lose, +To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this? +Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter, +Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: +When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails +She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find +That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think +I have cast off for ever: thou shalt, +I warrant thee. + +Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants + +GONERIL +Do you mark that, my lord? + +ALBANY +I cannot be so partial, Goneril, +To the great love I bear you,-- + +GONERIL +Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho! + +To the Fool + +You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. + +Fool +Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool +with thee. +A fox, when one has caught her, +And such a daughter, +Should sure to the slaughter, +If my cap would buy a halter: +So the fool follows after. + +Exit + +GONERIL +This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights! +'Tis politic and safe to let him keep +At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream, +Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, +He may enguard his dotage with their powers, +And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say! + +ALBANY +Well, you may fear too far. + +GONERIL +Safer than trust too far: +Let me still take away the harms I fear, +Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. +What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister +If she sustain him and his hundred knights +When I have show'd the unfitness,-- + +Re-enter OSWALD + +How now, Oswald! +What, have you writ that letter to my sister? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +Take you some company, and away to horse: +Inform her full of my particular fear; +And thereto add such reasons of your own +As may compact it more. Get you gone; +And hasten your return. + +Exit OSWALD + +No, no, my lord, +This milky gentleness and course of yours +Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, +You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom +Than praised for harmful mildness. + +ALBANY +How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell: +Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. + +GONERIL +Nay, then-- + +ALBANY +Well, well; the event. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Court before the same. + +Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool +KING LEAR +Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. +Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you +know than comes from her demand out of the letter. +If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you. + +KENT +I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered +your letter. + +Exit + +Fool +If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in +danger of kibes? + +KING LEAR +Ay, boy. + +Fool +Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go +slip-shod. + +KING LEAR +Ha, ha, ha! + +Fool +Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; +for though she's as like this as a crab's like an +apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. + +KING LEAR +Why, what canst thou tell, my boy? + +Fool +She will taste as like this as a crab does to a +crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' +the middle on's face? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that +what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. + +KING LEAR +I did her wrong-- + +Fool +Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house. + +KING LEAR +Why? + +Fool +Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his +daughters, and leave his horns without a case. + +KING LEAR +I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my +horses ready? + +Fool +Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the +seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason. + +KING LEAR +Because they are not eight? + +Fool +Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool. + +KING LEAR +To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude! + +Fool +If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten +for being old before thy time. + +KING LEAR +How's that? + +Fool +Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst +been wise. + +KING LEAR +O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven +Keep me in temper: I would not be mad! + +Enter Gentleman + +How now! are the horses ready? + +Gentleman +Ready, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Come, boy. + +Fool +She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure, +Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. GLOUCESTER's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him +EDMUND +Save thee, Curan. + +CURAN +And you, sir. I have been with your father, and +given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan +his duchess will be here with him this night. + +EDMUND +How comes that? + +CURAN +Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; +I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but +ear-kissing arguments? + +EDMUND +Not I pray you, what are they? + +CURAN +Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the +Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? + +EDMUND +Not a word. + +CURAN +You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. + +Exit + +EDMUND +The duke be here to-night? The better! best! +This weaves itself perforce into my business. +My father hath set guard to take my brother; +And I have one thing, of a queasy question, +Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work! +Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say! + +Enter EDGAR + +My father watches: O sir, fly this place; +Intelligence is given where you are hid; +You have now the good advantage of the night: +Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? +He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste, +And Regan with him: have you nothing said +Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? +Advise yourself. + +EDGAR +I am sure on't, not a word. + +EDMUND +I hear my father coming: pardon me: +In cunning I must draw my sword upon you +Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. +Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! +Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell. + +Exit EDGAR + +Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion. + +Wounds his arm + +Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards +Do more than this in sport. Father, father! +Stop, stop! No help? + +Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches + +GLOUCESTER +Now, Edmund, where's the villain? + +EDMUND +Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, +Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon +To stand auspicious mistress,-- + +GLOUCESTER +But where is he? + +EDMUND +Look, sir, I bleed. + +GLOUCESTER +Where is the villain, Edmund? + +EDMUND +Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could-- + +GLOUCESTER +Pursue him, ho! Go after. + +Exeunt some Servants + +By no means what? + +EDMUND +Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; +But that I told him, the revenging gods +'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; +Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond +The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, +Seeing how loathly opposite I stood +To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, +With his prepared sword, he charges home +My unprovided body, lanced mine arm: +But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, +Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter, +Or whether gasted by the noise I made, +Full suddenly he fled. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him fly far: +Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; +And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master, +My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: +By his authority I will proclaim it, +That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, +Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; +He that conceals him, death. + +EDMUND +When I dissuaded him from his intent, +And found him pight to do it, with curst speech +I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, +'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, +If I would stand against thee, would the reposal +Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee +Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,-- +As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce +My very character,--I'ld turn it all +To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise: +And thou must make a dullard of the world, +If they not thought the profits of my death +Were very pregnant and potential spurs +To make thee seek it.' + +GLOUCESTER +Strong and fasten'd villain +Would he deny his letter? I never got him. + +Tucket within + +Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. +All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; +The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture +I will send far and near, that all the kingdom +May have the due note of him; and of my land, +Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means +To make thee capable. + +Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants + +CORNWALL +How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, +Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. + +REGAN +If it be true, all vengeance comes too short +Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd! + +REGAN +What, did my father's godson seek your life? +He whom my father named? your Edgar? + +GLOUCESTER +O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! + +REGAN +Was he not companion with the riotous knights +That tend upon my father? + +GLOUCESTER +I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad. + +EDMUND +Yes, madam, he was of that consort. + +REGAN +No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: +'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, +To have the expense and waste of his revenues. +I have this present evening from my sister +Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, +That if they come to sojourn at my house, +I'll not be there. + +CORNWALL +Nor I, assure thee, Regan. +Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father +A child-like office. + +EDMUND +'Twas my duty, sir. + +GLOUCESTER +He did bewray his practise; and received +This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. + +CORNWALL +Is he pursued? + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my good lord. + +CORNWALL +If he be taken, he shall never more +Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, +How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, +Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant +So much commend itself, you shall be ours: +Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; +You we first seize on. + +EDMUND +I shall serve you, sir, +Truly, however else. + +GLOUCESTER +For him I thank your grace. + +CORNWALL +You know not why we came to visit you,-- + +REGAN +Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night: +Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, +Wherein we must have use of your advice: +Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, +Of differences, which I least thought it fit +To answer from our home; the several messengers +From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, +Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow +Your needful counsel to our business, +Which craves the instant use. + +GLOUCESTER +I serve you, madam: +Your graces are right welcome. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before Gloucester's castle. + +Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally +OSWALD +Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? + +KENT +Ay. + +OSWALD +Where may we set our horses? + +KENT +I' the mire. + +OSWALD +Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. + +KENT +I love thee not. + +OSWALD +Why, then, I care not for thee. + +KENT +If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee +care for me. + +OSWALD +Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. + +KENT +Fellow, I know thee. + +OSWALD +What dost thou know me for? + +KENT +A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a +base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, +hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a +lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, +glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; +one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a +bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but +the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, +and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I +will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest +the least syllable of thy addition. + +The Tragedy of Macbeth +Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A desert place. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches +First Witch +When shall we three meet again +In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + +Second Witch +When the hurlyburly's done, +When the battle's lost and won. + +Third Witch +That will be ere the set of sun. + +First Witch +Where the place? + +Second Witch +Upon the heath. + +Third Witch +There to meet with Macbeth. + +First Witch +I come, Graymalkin! + +Second Witch +Paddock calls. + +Third Witch +Anon. + +ALL +Fair is foul, and foul is fair: +Hover through the fog and filthy air. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A camp near Forres. + +Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant +DUNCAN +What bloody man is that? He can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt +The newest state. + +MALCOLM +This is the sergeant +Who like a good and hardy soldier fought +'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! +Say to the king the knowledge of the broil +As thou didst leave it. + +Sergeant +Doubtful it stood; +As two spent swimmers, that do cling together +And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- +Worthy to be a rebel, for to that +The multiplying villanies of nature +Do swarm upon him--from the western isles +Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; +And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, +Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: +For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- +Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, +Which smoked with bloody execution, +Like valour's minion carved out his passage +Till he faced the slave; +Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, +Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, +And fix'd his head upon our battlements. + +DUNCAN +O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! + +Sergeant +As whence the sun 'gins his reflection +Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, +So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come +Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: +No sooner justice had with valour arm'd +Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, +But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, +With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men +Began a fresh assault. + +DUNCAN +Dismay'd not this +Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? + +Sergeant +Yes; +As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they +Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: +Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, +Or memorise another Golgotha, +I cannot tell. +But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. + +DUNCAN +So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; +They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. + +Exit Sergeant, attended + +Who comes here? + +Enter ROSS + +MALCOLM +The worthy thane of Ross. + +LENNOX +What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look +That seems to speak things strange. + +ROSS +God save the king! + +DUNCAN +Whence camest thou, worthy thane? + +ROSS +From Fife, great king; +Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky +And fan our people cold. Norway himself, +With terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyal traitor +The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; +Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, +Confronted him with self-comparisons, +Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. +Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, +The victory fell on us. + +DUNCAN +Great happiness! + +ROSS +That now +Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: +Nor would we deign him burial of his men +Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch +Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + +DUNCAN +No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive +Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, +And with his former title greet Macbeth. + +ROSS +I'll see it done. + +DUNCAN +What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A heath near Forres. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Where hast thou been, sister? + +Second Witch +Killing swine. + +Third Witch +Sister, where thou? + +First Witch +A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, +And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- +'Give me,' quoth I: +'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. +Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: +But in a sieve I'll thither sail, +And, like a rat without a tail, +I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + +Second Witch +I'll give thee a wind. + +First Witch +Thou'rt kind. + +Third Witch +And I another. + +First Witch +I myself have all the other, +And the very ports they blow, +All the quarters that they know +I' the shipman's card. +I will drain him dry as hay: +Sleep shall neither night nor day +Hang upon his pent-house lid; +He shall live a man forbid: +Weary se'nnights nine times nine +Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: +Though his bark cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be tempest-tost. +Look what I have. + +Second Witch +Show me, show me. + +First Witch +Here I have a pilot's thumb, +Wreck'd as homeward he did come. + +Drum within + +Third Witch +A drum, a drum! +Macbeth doth come. + +ALL +The weird sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the sea and land, +Thus do go about, about: +Thrice to thine and thrice to mine +And thrice again, to make up nine. +Peace! the charm's wound up. + +Enter MACBETH and BANQUO + +MACBETH +So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + +BANQUO +How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these +So wither'd and so wild in their attire, +That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, +And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught +That man may question? You seem to understand me, +By each at once her chappy finger laying +Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, +And yet your beards forbid me to interpret +That you are so. + +MACBETH +Speak, if you can: what are you? + +First Witch +All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! + +Second Witch +All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! + +Third Witch +All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! + +BANQUO +Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear +Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, +Are ye fantastical, or that indeed +Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner +You greet with present grace and great prediction +Of noble having and of royal hope, +That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. +If you can look into the seeds of time, +And say which grain will grow and which will not, +Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear +Your favours nor your hate. + +First Witch +Hail! + +Second Witch +Hail! + +Third Witch +Hail! + +First Witch +Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. + +Second Witch +Not so happy, yet much happier. + +Third Witch +Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: +So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + +First Witch +Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + +MACBETH +Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: +By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; +But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, +A prosperous gentleman; and to be king +Stands not within the prospect of belief, +No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange intelligence? or why +Upon this blasted heath you stop our way +With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. + +Witches vanish + +BANQUO +The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, +And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? + +MACBETH +Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted +As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! + +BANQUO +Were such things here as we do speak about? +Or have we eaten on the insane root +That takes the reason prisoner? + +MACBETH +Your children shall be kings. + +BANQUO +You shall be king. + +MACBETH +And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + +BANQUO +To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? + +Enter ROSS and ANGUS + +ROSS +The king hath happily received, Macbeth, +The news of thy success; and when he reads +Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, +His wonders and his praises do contend +Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, +In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, +He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, +Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, +Strange images of death. As thick as hail +Came post with post; and every one did bear +Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, +And pour'd them down before him. + +ANGUS +We are sent +To give thee from our royal master thanks; +Only to herald thee into his sight, +Not pay thee. + +ROSS +And, for an earnest of a greater honour, +He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: +In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! +For it is thine. + +BANQUO +What, can the devil speak true? + +MACBETH +The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me +In borrow'd robes? + +ANGUS +Who was the thane lives yet; +But under heavy judgment bears that life +Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined +With those of Norway, or did line the rebel +With hidden help and vantage, or that with both +He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; +But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, +Have overthrown him. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! +The greatest is behind. + +To ROSS and ANGUS + +Thanks for your pains. + +To BANQUO + +Do you not hope your children shall be kings, +When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me +Promised no less to them? + +BANQUO +That trusted home +Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, +Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: +And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, +The instruments of darkness tell us truths, +Win us with honest trifles, to betray's +In deepest consequence. +Cousins, a word, I pray you. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Two truths are told, +As happy prologues to the swelling act +Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. + +Aside + +Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, +Why hath it given me earnest of success, +Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: +If good, why do I yield to that suggestion +Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair +And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, +Against the use of nature? Present fears +Are less than horrible imaginings: +My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, +Shakes so my single state of man that function +Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is +But what is not. + +BANQUO +Look, how our partner's rapt. + +MACBETH +[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, +Without my stir. + +BANQUO +New horrors come upon him, +Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould +But with the aid of use. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Come what come may, +Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + +BANQUO +Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + +MACBETH +Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought +With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains +Are register'd where every day I turn +The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. +Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, +The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak +Our free hearts each to other. + +BANQUO +Very gladly. + +MACBETH +Till then, enough. Come, friends. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants +DUNCAN +Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not +Those in commission yet return'd? + +MALCOLM +My liege, +They are not yet come back. But I have spoke +With one that saw him die: who did report +That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, +Implored your highness' pardon and set forth +A deep repentance: nothing in his life +Became him like the leaving it; he died +As one that had been studied in his death +To throw away the dearest thing he owed, +As 'twere a careless trifle. + +DUNCAN +There's no art +To find the mind's construction in the face: +He was a gentleman on whom I built +An absolute trust. + +Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS + +O worthiest cousin! +The sin of my ingratitude even now +Was heavy on me: thou art so far before +That swiftest wing of recompense is slow +To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, +That the proportion both of thanks and payment +Might have been mine! only I have left to say, +More is thy due than more than all can pay. + +MACBETH +The service and the loyalty I owe, +In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part +Is to receive our duties; and our duties +Are to your throne and state children and servants, +Which do but what they should, by doing every thing +Safe toward your love and honour. + +DUNCAN +Welcome hither: +I have begun to plant thee, and will labour +To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, +That hast no less deserved, nor must be known +No less to have done so, let me enfold thee +And hold thee to my heart. + +BANQUO +There if I grow, +The harvest is your own. + +DUNCAN +My plenteous joys, +Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves +In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know +We will establish our estate upon +Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter +The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must +Not unaccompanied invest him only, +But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine +On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, +And bind us further to you. + +MACBETH +The rest is labour, which is not used for you: +I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful +The hearing of my wife with your approach; +So humbly take my leave. + +DUNCAN +My worthy Cawdor! + +MACBETH +[Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step +On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, +For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; +Let not light see my black and deep desires: +The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, +Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. + +Exit + +DUNCAN +True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, +And in his commendations I am fed; +It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, +Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: +It is a peerless kinsman. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. + +Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter +LADY MACBETH +'They met me in the day of success: and I have +learned by the perfectest report, they have more in +them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire +to question them further, they made themselves air, +into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in +the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who +all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, +before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred +me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that +shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver +thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou +mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being +ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it +to thy heart, and farewell.' +Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be +What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; +It is too full o' the milk of human kindness +To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; +Art not without ambition, but without +The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, +That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, +And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, +That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; +And that which rather thou dost fear to do +Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, +That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; +And chastise with the valour of my tongue +All that impedes thee from the golden round, +Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem +To have thee crown'd withal. + +Enter a Messenger + +What is your tidings? + +Messenger +The king comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Thou'rt mad to say it: +Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, +Would have inform'd for preparation. + +Messenger +So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: +One of my fellows had the speed of him, +Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Than would make up his message. + +LADY MACBETH +Give him tending; +He brings great news. + +Exit Messenger + +The raven himself is hoarse +That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan +Under my battlements. Come, you spirits +That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, +And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full +Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; +Stop up the access and passage to remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between +The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, +And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, +Wherever in your sightless substances +You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, +That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, +Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, +To cry 'Hold, hold!' + +Enter MACBETH + +Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! +Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! +Thy letters have transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feel now +The future in the instant. + +MACBETH +My dearest love, +Duncan comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +And when goes hence? + +MACBETH +To-morrow, as he purposes. + +LADY MACBETH +O, never +Shall sun that morrow see! +Your face, my thane, is as a book where men +May read strange matters. To beguile the time, +Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, +Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, +But be the serpent under't. He that's coming +Must be provided for: and you shall put +This night's great business into my dispatch; +Which shall to all our nights and days to come +Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. + +MACBETH +We will speak further. + +LADY MACBETH +Only look up clear; +To alter favour ever is to fear: +Leave all the rest to me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants +DUNCAN +This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air +Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself +Unto our gentle senses. + +BANQUO +This guest of summer, +The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, +By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath +Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, +Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird +Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: +Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, +The air is delicate. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +DUNCAN +See, see, our honour'd hostess! +The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you +How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, +And thank us for your trouble. + +LADY MACBETH +All our service +In every point twice done and then done double +Were poor and single business to contend +Against those honours deep and broad wherewith +Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, +And the late dignities heap'd up to them, +We rest your hermits. + +DUNCAN +Where's the thane of Cawdor? +We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose +To be his purveyor: but he rides well; +And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him +To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, +We are your guest to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Your servants ever +Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, +To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, +Still to return your own. + +DUNCAN +Give me your hand; +Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, +And shall continue our graces towards him. +By your leave, hostess. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH +MACBETH +If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well +It were done quickly: if the assassination +Could trammel up the consequence, and catch +With his surcease success; that but this blow +Might be the be-all and the end-all here, +But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, +We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases +We still have judgment here; that we but teach +Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return +To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice +Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice +To our own lips. He's here in double trust; +First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, +Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, +Who should against his murderer shut the door, +Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been +So clear in his great office, that his virtues +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against +The deep damnation of his taking-off; +And pity, like a naked new-born babe, +Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed +Upon the sightless couriers of the air, +Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, +That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur +To prick the sides of my intent, but only +Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself +And falls on the other. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +How now! what news? + +LADY MACBETH +He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + +MACBETH +Hath he ask'd for me? + +LADY MACBETH +Know you not he has? + +MACBETH +We will proceed no further in this business: +He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought +Golden opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, +Not cast aside so soon. + +LADY MACBETH +Was the hope drunk +Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? +And wakes it now, to look so green and pale +At what it did so freely? From this time +Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard +To be the same in thine own act and valour +As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that +Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, +And live a coward in thine own esteem, +Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' +Like the poor cat i' the adage? + +MACBETH +Prithee, peace: +I dare do all that may become a man; +Who dares do more is none. + +LADY MACBETH +What beast was't, then, +That made you break this enterprise to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man; +And, to be more than what you were, you would +Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place +Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: +They have made themselves, and that their fitness now +Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know +How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: +I would, while it was smiling in my face, +Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, +And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you +Have done to this. + +MACBETH +If we should fail? + +LADY MACBETH +We fail! +But screw your courage to the sticking-place, +And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-- +Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey +Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains +Will I with wine and wassail so convince +That memory, the warder of the brain, +Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason +A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep +Their drenched natures lie as in a death, +What cannot you and I perform upon +The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon +His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt +Of our great quell? + +MACBETH +Bring forth men-children only; +For thy undaunted mettle should compose +Nothing but males. Will it not be received, +When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two +Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, +That they have done't? + +LADY MACBETH +Who dares receive it other, +As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar +Upon his death? + +MACBETH +I am settled, and bend up +Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show: +False face must hide what the false heart doth know. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him +BANQUO +How goes the night, boy? + +FLEANCE +The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. + +BANQUO +And she goes down at twelve. + +FLEANCE +I take't, 'tis later, sir. + +BANQUO +Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; +Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. +A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, +And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, +Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature +Gives way to in repose! + +Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch + +Give me my sword. +Who's there? + +MACBETH +A friend. + +BANQUO +What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: +He hath been in unusual pleasure, and +Sent forth great largess to your offices. +This diamond he greets your wife withal, +By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up +In measureless content. + +MACBETH +Being unprepared, +Our will became the servant to defect; +Which else should free have wrought. + +BANQUO +All's well. +I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: +To you they have show'd some truth. + +MACBETH +I think not of them: +Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, +We would spend it in some words upon that business, +If you would grant the time. + +BANQUO +At your kind'st leisure. + +MACBETH +If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, +It shall make honour for you. + +BANQUO +So I lose none +In seeking to augment it, but still keep +My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, +I shall be counsell'd. + +MACBETH +Good repose the while! + +BANQUO +Thanks, sir: the like to you! + +Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE + +MACBETH +Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, +She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. + +Exit Servant + +Is this a dagger which I see before me, +The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. +I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible +To feeling as to sight? or art thou but +A dagger of the mind, a false creation, +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? +I see thee yet, in form as palpable +As this which now I draw. +Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; +And such an instrument I was to use. +Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, +Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, +And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, +Which was not so before. There's no such thing: +It is the bloody business which informs +Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld +Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse +The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates +Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, +Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, +Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. +With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design +Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, +Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear +Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: +Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. + +A bell rings + +I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. +Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell +That summons thee to heaven or to hell. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter LADY MACBETH +LADY MACBETH +That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; +What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. +Hark! Peace! +It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, +Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: +The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms +Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd +their possets, +That death and nature do contend about them, +Whether they live or die. + +MACBETH +[Within] Who's there? what, ho! + +LADY MACBETH +Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, +And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed +Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; +He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled +My father as he slept, I had done't. + +Enter MACBETH + +My husband! + +MACBETH +I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + +LADY MACBETH +I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. +Did not you speak? + +MACBETH +When? + +LADY MACBETH +Now. + +MACBETH +As I descended? + +LADY MACBETH +Ay. + +MACBETH +Hark! +Who lies i' the second chamber? + +LADY MACBETH +Donalbain. + +MACBETH +This is a sorry sight. + +Looking on his hands + +LADY MACBETH +A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + +MACBETH +There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried +'Murder!' +That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: +But they did say their prayers, and address'd them +Again to sleep. + +LADY MACBETH +There are two lodged together. + +MACBETH +One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; +As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. +Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' +When they did say 'God bless us!' + +LADY MACBETH +Consider it not so deeply. + +MACBETH +But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? +I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' +Stuck in my throat. + +LADY MACBETH +These deeds must not be thought +After these ways; so, it will make us mad. + +MACBETH +Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! +Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, +Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, +The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, +Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, +Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- + +LADY MACBETH +What do you mean? + +MACBETH +Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: +'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor +Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' + +LADY MACBETH +Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, +You do unbend your noble strength, to think +So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, +And wash this filthy witness from your hand. +Why did you bring these daggers from the place? +They must lie there: go carry them; and smear +The sleepy grooms with blood. + +MACBETH +I'll go no more: +I am afraid to think what I have done; +Look on't again I dare not. + +LADY MACBETH +Infirm of purpose! +Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead +Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood +That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, +I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; +For it must seem their guilt. + +Exit. Knocking within + +MACBETH +Whence is that knocking? +How is't with me, when every noise appals me? +What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes. +Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood +Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather +The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, +Making the green one red. + +Re-enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +My hands are of your colour; but I shame +To wear a heart so white. + +Knocking within + +I hear a knocking +At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; +A little water clears us of this deed: +How easy is it, then! Your constancy +Hath left you unattended. + +Knocking within + +Hark! more knocking. +Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, +And show us to be watchers. Be not lost +So poorly in your thoughts. + +MACBETH +To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. + +Knocking within + +Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. + +Knocking within. Enter a Porter +Porter +Here's a knocking indeed! If a +man were porter of hell-gate, he should have +old turning the key. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of +Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged +himself on the expectation of plenty: come in +time; have napkins enow about you; here +you'll sweat for't. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock! Who's there, in the other devil's +name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could +swear in both the scales against either scale; +who committed treason enough for God's sake, +yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come +in, equivocator. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an +English tailor come hither, for stealing out of +a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may +roast your goose. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock; never at quiet! What are you? But +this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter +it no further: I had thought to have let in +some of all professions that go the primrose +way to the everlasting bonfire. + +Knocking within + +Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. + +Opens the gate + +Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX + +MACDUFF +Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, +That you do lie so late? + +Porter +'Faith sir, we were carousing till the +second cock: and drink, sir, is a great +provoker of three things. + +MACDUFF +What three things does drink especially provoke? + +Porter +Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and +urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; +it provokes the desire, but it takes +away the performance: therefore, much drink +may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: +it makes him, and it mars him; it sets +him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, +and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and +not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him +in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. + +MACDUFF +I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. + +Porter +That it did, sir, i' the very throat on +me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I +think, being too strong for him, though he took +up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast +him. + +MACDUFF +Is thy master stirring? + +Enter MACBETH + +Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. + +LENNOX +Good morrow, noble sir. + +MACBETH +Good morrow, both. + +MACDUFF +Is the king stirring, worthy thane? + +MACBETH +Not yet. + +MACDUFF +He did command me to call timely on him: +I have almost slipp'd the hour. + +MACBETH +I'll bring you to him. + +MACDUFF +I know this is a joyful trouble to you; +But yet 'tis one. + +MACBETH +The labour we delight in physics pain. +This is the door. + +MACDUFF +I'll make so bold to call, +For 'tis my limited service. + +Exit + +LENNOX +Goes the king hence to-day? + +MACBETH +He does: he did appoint so. + +LENNOX +The night has been unruly: where we lay, +Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, +Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, +And prophesying with accents terrible +Of dire combustion and confused events +New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird +Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth +Was feverous and did shake. + +MACBETH +'Twas a rough night. + +LENNOX +My young remembrance cannot parallel +A fellow to it. + +Re-enter MACDUFF + +MACDUFF +O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart +Cannot conceive nor name thee! + +MACBETH LENNOX +What's the matter. + +MACDUFF +Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! +Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope +The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence +The life o' the building! + +MACBETH +What is 't you say? the life? + +LENNOX +Mean you his majesty? + +MACDUFF +Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; +See, and then speak yourselves. + +Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX + +Awake, awake! +Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! +Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! +Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, +And look on death itself! up, up, and see +The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! +As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, +To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. + +Bell rings + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +What's the business, +That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! + +MACDUFF +O gentle lady, +'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: +The repetition, in a woman's ear, +Would murder as it fell. + +Enter BANQUO + +O Banquo, Banquo, +Our royal master 's murder'd! + +LADY MACBETH +Woe, alas! +What, in our house? + +BANQUO +Too cruel any where. +Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, +And say it is not so. + +Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS + +MACBETH +Had I but died an hour before this chance, +I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, +There 's nothing serious in mortality: +All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; +The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees +Is left this vault to brag of. + +Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN + +DONALBAIN +What is amiss? + +MACBETH +You are, and do not know't: +The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood +Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. + +MACDUFF +Your royal father 's murder'd. + +MALCOLM +O, by whom? + +LENNOX +Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: +Their hands and faces were an badged with blood; +So were their daggers, which unwiped we found +Upon their pillows: +They stared, and were distracted; no man's life +Was to be trusted with them. + +MACBETH +O, yet I do repent me of my fury, +That I did kill them. + +MACDUFF +Wherefore did you so? + +MACBETH +Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, +Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: +The expedition my violent love +Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, +His silver skin laced with his golden blood; +And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature +For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, +Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers +Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, +That had a heart to love, and in that heart +Courage to make 's love kno wn? + +LADY MACBETH +Help me hence, ho! + +MACDUFF +Look to the lady. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues, +That most may claim this argument for ours? + +DONALBAIN +[Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here, +where our fate, +Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? +Let 's away; +Our tears are not yet brew'd. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow +Upon the foot of motion. + +BANQUO +Look to the lady: + +LADY MACBETH is carried out + +And when we have our naked frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure, let us meet, +And question this most bloody piece of work, +To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: +In the great hand of God I stand; and thence +Against the undivulged pretence I fight +Of treasonous malice. + +MACDUFF +And so do I. + +ALL +So all. + +MACBETH +Let's briefly put on manly readiness, +And meet i' the hall together. + +ALL +Well contented. + +Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. + +MALCOLM +What will you do? Let's not consort with them: +To show an unfelt sorrow is an office +Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. + +DONALBAIN +To Ireland, I; our separated fortune +Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, +There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, +The nearer bloody. + +MALCOLM +This murderous shaft that's shot +Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way +Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; +And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, +But shift away: there's warrant in that theft +Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. + +Enter ROSS and an old Man +Old Man +Threescore and ten I can remember well: +Within the volume of which time I have seen +Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night +Hath trifled former knowings. + +ROSS +Ah, good father, +Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, +Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, +And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: +Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, +That darkness does the face of earth entomb, +When living light should kiss it? + +Old Man +'Tis unnatural, +Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, +A falcon, towering in her pride of place, +Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. + +ROSS +And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- +Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, +Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, +Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make +War with mankind. + +Old Man +'Tis said they eat each other. + +ROSS +They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes +That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. + +Enter MACDUFF + +How goes the world, sir, now? + +MACDUFF +Why, see you not? + +ROSS +Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? + +MACDUFF +Those that Macbeth hath slain. + +ROSS +Alas, the day! +What good could they pretend? + +MACDUFF +They were suborn'd: +Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, +Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them +Suspicion of the deed. + +ROSS +'Gainst nature still! +Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up +Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like +The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + +MACDUFF +He is already named, and gone to Scone +To be invested. + +ROSS +Where is Duncan's body? + +MACDUFF +Carried to Colmekill, +The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, +And guardian of their bones. + +ROSS +Will you to Scone? + +MACDUFF +No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + +ROSS +Well, I will thither. + +MACDUFF +Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! +Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! + +ROSS +Farewell, father. + +Old Man +God's benison go with you; and with those +That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Forres. The palace. + +Enter BANQUO +BANQUO +Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, +As the weird women promised, and, I fear, +Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said +It should not stand in thy posterity, +But that myself should be the root and father +Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- +As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- +Why, by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my oracles as well, +And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. + +Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants + +MACBETH +Here's our chief guest. + +LADY MACBETH +If he had been forgotten, +It had been as a gap in our great feast, +And all-thing unbecoming. + +MACBETH +To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, +And I'll request your presence. + +BANQUO +Let your highness +Command upon me; to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tie +For ever knit. + +MACBETH +Ride you this afternoon? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +We should have else desired your good advice, +Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, +In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. +Is't far you ride? + +BANQUO +As far, my lord, as will fill up the time +'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the night +For a dark hour or twain. + +MACBETH +Fail not our feast. + +BANQUO +My lord, I will not. + +MACBETH +We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd +In England and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers +With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, +When therewithal we shall have cause of state +Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, +Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. + +MACBETH +I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; +And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. + +Exit BANQUO + +Let every man be master of his time +Till seven at night: to make society +The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself +Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant + +Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men +Our pleasure? + +ATTENDANT +They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + +MACBETH +Bring them before us. + +Exit Attendant + +To be thus is nothing; +But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo +Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature +Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; +And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, +He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour +To act in safety. There is none but he +Whose being I do fear: and, under him, +My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, +Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters +When first they put the name of king upon me, +And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like +They hail'd him father to a line of kings: +Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, +And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, +Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, +No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, +For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; +For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; +Put rancours in the vessel of my peace +Only for them; and mine eternal jewel +Given to the common enemy of man, +To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! +Rather than so, come fate into the list. +And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! + +Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers + +Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. + +Exit Attendant + +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + +First Murderer +It was, so please your highness. + +MACBETH +Well then, now +Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know +That it was he in the times past which held you +So under fortune, which you thought had been +Our innocent self: this I made good to you +In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, +How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, +the instruments, +Who wrought with them, and all things else that might +To half a soul and to a notion crazed +Say 'Thus did Banquo.' + +First Murderer +You made it known to us. + +MACBETH +I did so, and went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. Do you find +Your patience so predominant in your nature +That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd +To pray for this good man and for his issue, +Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave +And beggar'd yours for ever? + +First Murderer +We are men, my liege. + +MACBETH +Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; +As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, +Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept +All by the name of dogs: the valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The housekeeper, the hunter, every one +According to the gift which bounteous nature +Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive +Particular addition. from the bill +That writes them all alike: and so of men. +Now, if you have a station in the file, +Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; +And I will put that business in your bosoms, +Whose execution takes your enemy off, +Grapples you to the heart and love of us, +Who wear our health but sickly in his life, +Which in his death were perfect. + +Second Murderer +I am one, my liege, +Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world +Have so incensed that I am reckless what +I do to spite the world. + +First Murderer +And I another +So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, +That I would set my lie on any chance, +To mend it, or be rid on't. + +MACBETH +Both of you +Know Banquo was your enemy. + +Both Murderers +True, my lord. + +MACBETH +So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, +That every minute of his being thrusts +Against my near'st of life: and though I could +With barefaced power sweep him from my sight +And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, +For certain friends that are both his and mine, +Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall +Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, +That I to your assistance do make love, +Masking the business from the common eye +For sundry weighty reasons. + +Second Murderer +We shall, my lord, +Perform what you command us. + +First Murderer +Though our lives-- + +MACBETH +Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most +I will advise you where to plant yourselves; +Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, +The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, +And something from the palace; always thought +That I require a clearness: and with him-- +To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- +Fleance his son, that keeps him company, +Whose absence is no less material to me +Than is his father's, must embrace the fate +Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: +I'll come to you anon. + +Both Murderers +We are resolved, my lord. + +MACBETH +I'll call upon you straight: abide within. + +Exeunt Murderers + +It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, +If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant +LADY MACBETH +Is Banquo gone from court? + +Servant +Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Say to the king, I would attend his leisure +For a few words. + +Servant +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +LADY MACBETH +Nought's had, all's spent, +Where our desire is got without content: +'Tis safer to be that which we destroy +Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. + +Enter MACBETH + +How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, +Of sorriest fancies your companions making, +Using those thoughts which should indeed have died +With them they think on? Things without all remedy +Should be without regard: what's done is done. + +MACBETH +We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: +She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice +Remains in danger of her former tooth. +But let the frame of things disjoint, both the +worlds suffer, +Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep +In the affliction of these terrible dreams +That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, +Than on the torture of the mind to lie +In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; +After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; +Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, +Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, +Can touch him further. + +LADY MACBETH +Come on; +Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; +Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. + +MACBETH +So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: +Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; +Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: +Unsafe the while, that we +Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, +And make our faces vizards to our hearts, +Disguising what they are. + +LADY MACBETH +You must leave this. + +MACBETH +O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! +Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. + +LADY MACBETH +But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + +MACBETH +There's comfort yet; they are assailable; +Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown +His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons +The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums +Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done +A deed of dreadful note. + +LADY MACBETH +What's to be done? + +MACBETH +Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, +Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; +And with thy bloody and invisible hand +Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond +Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow +Makes wing to the rooky wood: +Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; +While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. +Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; +Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. +So, prithee, go with me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A park near the palace. + +Enter three Murderers +First Murderer +But who did bid thee join with us? + +Third Murderer +Macbeth. + +Second Murderer +He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers +Our offices and what we have to do +To the direction just. + +First Murderer +Then stand with us. +The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: +Now spurs the lated traveller apace +To gain the timely inn; and near approaches +The subject of our watch. + +Third Murderer +Hark! I hear horses. + +BANQUO +[Within] Give us a light there, ho! + +Second Murderer +Then 'tis he: the rest +That are within the note of expectation +Already are i' the court. + +First Murderer +His horses go about. + +Third Murderer +Almost a mile: but he does usually, +So all men do, from hence to the palace gate +Make it their walk. + +Second Murderer +A light, a light! + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch + +Third Murderer +'Tis he. + +First Murderer +Stand to't. + +BANQUO +It will be rain to-night. + +First Murderer +Let it come down. + +They set upon BANQUO + +BANQUO +O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! +Thou mayst revenge. O slave! + +Dies. FLEANCE escapes + +Third Murderer +Who did strike out the light? + +First Murderer +Wast not the way? + +Third Murderer +There's but one down; the son is fled. + +Second Murderer +We have lost +Best half of our affair. + +First Murderer +Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. + +A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants +MACBETH +You know your own degrees; sit down: at first +And last the hearty welcome. + +Lords +Thanks to your majesty. + +MACBETH +Ourself will mingle with society, +And play the humble host. +Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time +We will require her welcome. + +LADY MACBETH +Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; +For my heart speaks they are welcome. + +First Murderer appears at the door + +MACBETH +See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. +Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: +Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure +The table round. + +Approaching the door + +There's blood on thy face. + +First Murderer +'Tis Banquo's then. + +MACBETH +'Tis better thee without than he within. +Is he dispatch'd? + +First Murderer +My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. + +MACBETH +Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good +That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, +Thou art the nonpareil. + +First Murderer +Most royal sir, +Fleance is 'scaped. + +MACBETH +Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, +Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, +As broad and general as the casing air: +But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in +To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? + +First Murderer +Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head; +The least a death to nature. + +MACBETH +Thanks for that: +There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled +Hath nature that in time will venom breed, +No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow +We'll hear, ourselves, again. + +Exit Murderer + +LADY MACBETH +My royal lord, +You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold +That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, +'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; +From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; +Meeting were bare without it. + +MACBETH +Sweet remembrancer! +Now, good digestion wait on appetite, +And health on both! + +LENNOX +May't please your highness sit. + +The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place + +MACBETH +Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, +Were the graced person of our Banquo present; +Who may I rather challenge for unkindness +Than pity for mischance! + +ROSS +His absence, sir, +Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness +To grace us with your royal company. + +MACBETH +The table's full. + +LENNOX +Here is a place reserved, sir. + +MACBETH +Where? + +LENNOX +Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? + +MACBETH +Which of you have done this? + +Lords +What, my good lord? + +MACBETH +Thou canst not say I did it: never shake +Thy gory locks at me. + +ROSS +Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. + +LADY MACBETH +Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus, +And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; +The fit is momentary; upon a thought +He will again be well: if much you note him, +You shall offend him and extend his passion: +Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? + +MACBETH +Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that +Which might appal the devil. + +LADY MACBETH +O proper stuff! +This is the very painting of your fear: +This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, +Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, +Impostors to true fear, would well become +A woman's story at a winter's fire, +Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! +Why do you make such faces? When all's done, +You look but on a stool. + +MACBETH +Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! +how say you? +Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. +If charnel-houses and our graves must send +Those that we bury back, our monuments +Shall be the maws of kites. + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +LADY MACBETH +What, quite unmann'd in folly? + +MACBETH +If I stand here, I saw him. + +LADY MACBETH +Fie, for shame! + +MACBETH +Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, +Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; +Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd +Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, +That, when the brains were out, the man would die, +And there an end; but now they rise again, +With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, +And push us from our stools: this is more strange +Than such a murder is. + +LADY MACBETH +My worthy lord, +Your noble friends do lack you. + +MACBETH +I do forget. +Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends, +I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; +Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. +I drink to the general joy o' the whole table, +And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; +Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, +And all to all. + +Lords +Our duties, and the pledge. + +Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO + +MACBETH +Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! +Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with! + +LADY MACBETH +Think of this, good peers, +But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; +Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + +MACBETH +What man dare, I dare: +Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, +The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; +Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves +Shall never tremble: or be alive again, +And dare me to the desert with thy sword; +If trembling I inhabit then, protest me +The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! +Unreal mockery, hence! + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +Why, so: being gone, +I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. + +LADY MACBETH +You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, +With most admired disorder. + +MACBETH +Can such things be, +And overcome us like a summer's cloud, +Without our special wonder? You make me strange +Even to the disposition that I owe, +When now I think you can behold such sights, +And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, +When mine is blanched with fear. + +ROSS +What sights, my lord? + +LADY MACBETH +I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; +Question enrages him. At once, good night: +Stand not upon the order of your going, +But go at once. + +LENNOX +Good night; and better health +Attend his majesty! + +LADY MACBETH +A kind good night to all! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH + +MACBETH +It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: +Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; +Augurs and understood relations have +By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth +The secret'st man of blood. What is the night? + +LADY MACBETH +Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + +MACBETH +How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding? + +LADY MACBETH +Did you send to him, sir? + +MACBETH +I hear it by the way; but I will send: +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow, +And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: +More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, +By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, +All causes shall give way: I am in blood +Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go o'er: +Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; +Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. + +LADY MACBETH +You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + +MACBETH +Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse +Is the initiate fear that wants hard use: +We are yet but young in deed. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A Heath. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE +First Witch +Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. + +HECATE +Have I not reason, beldams as you are, +Saucy and overbold? How did you dare +To trade and traffic with Macbeth +In riddles and affairs of death; +And I, the mistress of your charms, +The close contriver of all harms, +Was never call'd to bear my part, +Or show the glory of our art? +And, which is worse, all you have done +Hath been but for a wayward son, +Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, +Loves for his own ends, not for you. +But make amends now: get you gone, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meet me i' the morning: thither he +Will come to know his destiny: +Your vessels and your spells provide, +Your charms and every thing beside. +I am for the air; this night I'll spend +Unto a dismal and a fatal end: +Great business must be wrought ere noon: +Upon the corner of the moon +There hangs a vaporous drop profound; +I'll catch it ere it come to ground: +And that distill'd by magic sleights +Shall raise such artificial sprites +As by the strength of their illusion +Shall draw him on to his confusion: +He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear +He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: +And you all know, security +Is mortals' chiefest enemy. + +Music and a song within: 'Come away, come away,' & c + +Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, +Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. + +Exit + +First Witch +Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Forres. The palace. + +Enter LENNOX and another Lord +LENNOX +My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, +Which can interpret further: only, I say, +Things have been strangely borne. The +gracious Duncan +Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: +And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; +Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, +For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. +Who cannot want the thought how monstrous +It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain +To kill their gracious father? damned fact! +How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight +In pious rage the two delinquents tear, +That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? +Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; +For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive +To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, +He has borne all things well: and I do think +That had he Duncan's sons under his key-- +As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they +should find +What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. +But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd +His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear +Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell +Where he bestows himself? + +Lord +The son of Duncan, +From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth +Lives in the English court, and is received +Of the most pious Edward with such grace +That the malevolence of fortune nothing +Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff +Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid +To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: +That, by the help of these--with Him above +To ratify the work--we may again +Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, +Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, +Do faithful homage and receive free honours: +All which we pine for now: and this report +Hath so exasperate the king that he +Prepares for some attempt of war. + +LENNOX +Sent he to Macduff? + +Lord +He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' +The cloudy messenger turns me his back, +And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time +That clogs me with this answer.' + +LENNOX +And that well might +Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance +His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel +Fly to the court of England and unfold +His message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soon return to this our suffering country +Under a hand accursed! + +Lord +I'll send my prayers with him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. + +Second Witch +Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. + +Third Witch +Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. + +First Witch +Round about the cauldron go; +In the poison'd entrails throw. +Toad, that under cold stone +Days and nights has thirty-one +Swelter'd venom sleeping got, +Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Fillet of a fenny snake, +In the cauldron boil and bake; +Eye of newt and toe of frog, +Wool of bat and tongue of dog, +Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, +Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, +For a charm of powerful trouble, +Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Third Witch +Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, +Witches' mummy, maw and gulf +Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, +Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, +Liver of blaspheming Jew, +Gall of goat, and slips of yew +Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, +Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, +Finger of birth-strangled babe +Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, +Make the gruel thick and slab: +Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, +For the ingredients of our cauldron. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Cool it with a baboon's blood, +Then the charm is firm and good. + +Enter HECATE to the other three Witches + +HECATE +O well done! I commend your pains; +And every one shall share i' the gains; +And now about the cauldron sing, +Live elves and fairies in a ring, +Enchanting all that you put in. + +Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c + +HECATE retires + +Second Witch +By the pricking of my thumbs, +Something wicked this way comes. +Open, locks, +Whoever knocks! + +Enter MACBETH + +MACBETH +How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! +What is't you do? + +ALL +A deed without a name. + +MACBETH +I conjure you, by that which you profess, +Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: +Though you untie the winds and let them fight +Against the churches; though the yesty waves +Confound and swallow navigation up; +Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; +Though castles topple on their warders' heads; +Though palaces and pyramids do slope +Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure +Of nature's germens tumble all together, +Even till destruction sicken; answer me +To what I ask you. + +First Witch +Speak. + +Second Witch +Demand. + +Third Witch +We'll answer. + +First Witch +Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, +Or from our masters? + +MACBETH +Call 'em; let me see 'em. + +First Witch +Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten +Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten +From the murderer's gibbet throw +Into the flame. + +ALL +Come, high or low; +Thyself and office deftly show! + +Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head + +MACBETH +Tell me, thou unknown power,-- + +First Witch +He knows thy thought: +Hear his speech, but say thou nought. + +First Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; +Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; +Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one +word more,-- + +First Witch +He will not be commanded: here's another, +More potent than the first. + +Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child + +Second Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! + +MACBETH +Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. + +Second Apparition +Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn +The power of man, for none of woman born +Shall harm Macbeth. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? +But yet I'll make assurance double sure, +And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; +That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, +And sleep in spite of thunder. + +Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand + +What is this +That rises like the issue of a king, +And wears upon his baby-brow the round +And top of sovereignty? + +ALL +Listen, but speak not to't. + +Third Apparition +Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care +Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: +Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until +Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill +Shall come against him. + +Descends + +MACBETH +That will never be +Who can impress the forest, bid the tree +Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! +Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood +Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth +Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath +To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart +Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art +Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever +Reign in this kingdom? + +ALL +Seek to know no more. + +MACBETH +I will be satisfied: deny me this, +And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. +Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? + +Hautboys + +First Witch +Show! + +Second Witch +Show! + +Third Witch +Show! + +ALL +Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; +Come like shadows, so depart! + +A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following + +MACBETH +Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down! +Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, +Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. +A third is like the former. Filthy hags! +Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! +What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? +Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: +And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass +Which shows me many more; and some I see +That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry: +Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; +For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, +And points at them for his. + +Apparitions vanish + +What, is this so? + +First Witch +Ay, sir, all this is so: but why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, +And show the best of our delights: +I'll charm the air to give a sound, +While you perform your antic round: +That this great king may kindly say, +Our duties did his welcome pay. + +Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE + +MACBETH +Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour +Stand aye accursed in the calendar! +Come in, without there! + +Enter LENNOX + +LENNOX +What's your grace's will? + +MACBETH +Saw you the weird sisters? + +LENNOX +No, my lord. + +MACBETH +Came they not by you? + +LENNOX +No, indeed, my lord. + +MACBETH +Infected be the air whereon they ride; +And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear +The galloping of horse: who was't came by? + +LENNOX +'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word +Macduff is fled to England. + +MACBETH +Fled to England! + +LENNOX +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: +The flighty purpose never is o'ertook +Unless the deed go with it; from this moment +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And even now, +To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: +The castle of Macduff I will surprise; +Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword +His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls +That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; +This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. +But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? +Come, bring me where they are. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. + +Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS +LADY MACDUFF +What had he done, to make him fly the land? + +ROSS +You must have patience, madam. + +LADY MACDUFF +He had none: +His flight was madness: when our actions do not, +Our fears do make us traitors. + +ROSS +You know not +Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. + +LADY MACDUFF +Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, +His mansion and his titles in a place +From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; +He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren, +The most diminutive of birds, will fight, +Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. +All is the fear and nothing is the love; +As little is the wisdom, where the flight +So runs against all reason. + +ROSS +My dearest coz, +I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, +He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows +The fits o' the season. I dare not speak +much further; +But cruel are the times, when we are traitors +And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour +From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, +But float upon a wild and violent sea +Each way and move. I take my leave of you: +Shall not be long but I'll be here again: +Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward +To what they were before. My pretty cousin, +Blessing upon you! + +LADY MACDUFF +Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. + +ROSS +I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, +It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: +I take my leave at once. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Sirrah, your father's dead; +And what will you do now? How will you live? + +Son +As birds do, mother. + +LADY MACDUFF +What, with worms and flies? + +Son +With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, +The pitfall nor the gin. + +Son +Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. +My father is not dead, for all your saying. + +LADY MACDUFF +Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +Nay, how will you do for a husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + +Son +Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + +LADY MACDUFF +Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith, +With wit enough for thee. + +Son +Was my father a traitor, mother? + +LADY MACDUFF +Ay, that he was. + +Son +What is a traitor? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, one that swears and lies. + +Son +And be all traitors that do so? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. + +Son +And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one. + +Son +Who must hang them? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, the honest men. + +Son +Then the liars and swearers are fools, +for there are liars and swearers enow to beat +the honest men and hang up them. + +LADY MACDUFF +Now, God help thee, poor monkey! +But how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +If he were dead, you'ld weep for +him: if you would not, it were a good sign +that I should quickly have a new father. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, +Though in your state of honour I am perfect. +I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: +If you will take a homely man's advice, +Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. +To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; +To do worse to you were fell cruelty, +Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! +I dare abide no longer. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Whither should I fly? +I have done no harm. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world; where to do harm +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas, +Do I put up that womanly defence, +To say I have done no harm? + +Enter Murderers + +What are these faces? + +First Murderer +Where is your husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +I hope, in no place so unsanctified +Where such as thou mayst find him. + +First Murderer +He's a traitor. + +Son +Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! + +First Murderer +What, you egg! + +Stabbing him + +Young fry of treachery! + +Son +He has kill'd me, mother: +Run away, I pray you! + +Dies + +Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her + +SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace. + +Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF +MALCOLM +Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there +Weep our sad bosoms empty. + +MACDUFF +Let us rather +Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men +Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn +New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows +Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out +Like syllable of dolour. + +MALCOLM +What I believe I'll wail, +What know believe, and what I can redress, +As I shall find the time to friend, I will. +What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. +This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest: you have loved him well. +He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; +but something +You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom +To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb +To appease an angry god. + +MACDUFF +I am not treacherous. + +MALCOLM +But Macbeth is. +A good and virtuous nature may recoil +In an imperial charge. But I shall crave +your pardon; +That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose: +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; +Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, +Yet grace must still look so. + +MACDUFF +I have lost my hopes. + +MALCOLM +Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. +Why in that rawness left you wife and child, +Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, +Without leave-taking? I pray you, +Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, +But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, +Whatever I shall think. + +MACDUFF +Bleed, bleed, poor country! +Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou +thy wrongs; +The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord: +I would not be the villain that thou think'st +For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, +And the rich East to boot. + +MALCOLM +Be not offended: +I speak not as in absolute fear of you. +I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; +It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds: I think withal +There would be hands uplifted in my right; +And here from gracious England have I offer +Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, +When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, +Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country +Shall have more vices than it had before, +More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, +By him that shall succeed. + +MACDUFF +What should he be? + +MALCOLM +It is myself I mean: in whom I know +All the particulars of vice so grafted +That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth +Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state +Esteem him as a lamb, being compared +With my confineless harms. + +MACDUFF +Not in the legions +Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd +In evils to top Macbeth. + +MALCOLM +I grant him bloody, +Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, +Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin +That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, +In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, +Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up +The cistern of my lust, and my desire +All continent impediments would o'erbear +That did oppose my will: better Macbeth +Than such an one to reign. + +MACDUFF +Boundless intemperance +In nature is a tyranny; it hath been +The untimely emptying of the happy throne +And fall of many kings. But fear not yet +To take upon you what is yours: you may +Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, +And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. +We have willing dames enough: there cannot be +That vulture in you, to devour so many +As will to greatness dedicate themselves, +Finding it so inclined. + +MALCOLM +With this there grows +In my most ill-composed affection such +A stanchless avarice that, were I king, +I should cut off the nobles for their lands, +Desire his jewels and this other's house: +And my more-having would be as a sauce +To make me hunger more; that I should forge +Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, +Destroying them for wealth. + +Othello, the Moore of Venice +Shakespeare homepage | Othello | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Venice. A street. + +Enter RODERIGO and IAGO +RODERIGO +Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly +That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse +As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. + +IAGO +'Sblood, but you will not hear me: +If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. + +RODERIGO +Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. + +IAGO +Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, +In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, +Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, +I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: +But he; as loving his own pride and purposes, +Evades them, with a bombast circumstance +Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; +And, in conclusion, +Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he, +'I have already chose my officer.' +And what was he? +Forsooth, a great arithmetician, +One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, +A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; +That never set a squadron in the field, +Nor the division of a battle knows +More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, +Wherein the toged consuls can propose +As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, +Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: +And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof +At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds +Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd +By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, +He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, +And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient. + +RODERIGO +By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. + +IAGO +Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, +Preferment goes by letter and affection, +And not by old gradation, where each second +Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, +Whether I in any just term am affined +To love the Moor. + +RODERIGO +I would not follow him then. + +IAGO +O, sir, content you; +I follow him to serve my turn upon him: +We cannot all be masters, nor all masters +Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark +Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, +That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, +Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, +For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd: +Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are +Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, +Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, +And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, +Do well thrive by them and when they have lined +their coats +Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; +And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, +It is as sure as you are Roderigo, +Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: +In following him, I follow but myself; +Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, +But seeming so, for my peculiar end: +For when my outward action doth demonstrate +The native act and figure of my heart +In compliment extern, 'tis not long after +But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve +For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. + +RODERIGO +What a full fortune does the thicklips owe +If he can carry't thus! + +IAGO +Call up her father, +Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, +Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, +And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, +Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, +Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, +As it may lose some colour. + +RODERIGO +Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. + +IAGO +Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell +As when, by night and negligence, the fire +Is spied in populous cities. + +RODERIGO +What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! + +IAGO +Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! +Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! +Thieves! thieves! + +BRABANTIO appears above, at a window + +BRABANTIO +What is the reason of this terrible summons? +What is the matter there? + +RODERIGO +Signior, is all your family within? + +IAGO +Are your doors lock'd? + +BRABANTIO +Why, wherefore ask you this? + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on +your gown; +Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; +Even now, now, very now, an old black ram +Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise; +Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, +Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: +Arise, I say. + +BRABANTIO +What, have you lost your wits? + +RODERIGO +Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? + +BRABANTIO +Not I what are you? + +RODERIGO +My name is Roderigo. + +BRABANTIO +The worser welcome: +I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: +In honest plainness thou hast heard me say +My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, +Being full of supper and distempering draughts, +Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come +To start my quiet. + +RODERIGO +Sir, sir, sir,-- + +BRABANTIO +But thou must needs be sure +My spirit and my place have in them power +To make this bitter to thee. + +RODERIGO +Patience, good sir. + +BRABANTIO +What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; +My house is not a grange. + +RODERIGO +Most grave Brabantio, +In simple and pure soul I come to you. + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not +serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to +do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll +have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; +you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have +coursers for cousins and gennets for germans. + +BRABANTIO +What profane wretch art thou? + +IAGO +I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter +and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. + +BRABANTIO +Thou art a villain. + +IAGO +You are--a senator. + +BRABANTIO +This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. + +RODERIGO +Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you, +If't be your pleasure and most wise consent, +As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, +At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, +Transported, with no worse nor better guard +But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, +To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor-- +If this be known to you and your allowance, +We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; +But if you know not this, my manners tell me +We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe +That, from the sense of all civility, +I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: +Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, +I say again, hath made a gross revolt; +Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes +In an extravagant and wheeling stranger +Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself: +If she be in her chamber or your house, +Let loose on me the justice of the state +For thus deluding you. + +BRABANTIO +Strike on the tinder, ho! +Give me a taper! call up all my people! +This accident is not unlike my dream: +Belief of it oppresses me already. +Light, I say! light! + +Exit above + +IAGO +Farewell; for I must leave you: +It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, +To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall-- +Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state, +However this may gall him with some cheque, +Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd +With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, +Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, +Another of his fathom they have none, +To lead their business: in which regard, +Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains. +Yet, for necessity of present life, +I must show out a flag and sign of love, +Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him, +Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; +And there will I be with him. So, farewell. + +Exit + +Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches + +BRABANTIO +It is too true an evil: gone she is; +And what's to come of my despised time +Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, +Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl! +With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father! +How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me +Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers: +Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you? + +RODERIGO +Truly, I think they are. + +BRABANTIO +O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! +Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds +By what you see them act. Is there not charms +By which the property of youth and maidhood +May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, +Of some such thing? + +RODERIGO +Yes, sir, I have indeed. + +BRABANTIO +Call up my brother. O, would you had had her! +Some one way, some another. Do you know +Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? + +RODERIGO +I think I can discover him, if you please, +To get good guard and go along with me. + +BRABANTIO +Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call; +I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! +And raise some special officers of night. +On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another street. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches +IAGO +Though in the trade of war I have slain men, +Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience +To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity +Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times +I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. + +OTHELLO +'Tis better as it is. + +IAGO +Nay, but he prated, +And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms +Against your honour +That, with the little godliness I have, +I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir, +Are you fast married? Be assured of this, +That the magnifico is much beloved, +And hath in his effect a voice potential +As double as the duke's: he will divorce you; +Or put upon you what restraint and grievance +The law, with all his might to enforce it on, +Will give him cable. + +OTHELLO +Let him do his spite: +My services which I have done the signiory +Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,-- +Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, +I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being +From men of royal siege, and my demerits +May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune +As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago, +But that I love the gentle Desdemona, +I would not my unhoused free condition +Put into circumscription and confine +For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond? + +IAGO +Those are the raised father and his friends: +You were best go in. + +OTHELLO +Not I I must be found: +My parts, my title and my perfect soul +Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? + +IAGO +By Janus, I think no. + +Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches + +OTHELLO +The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. +The goodness of the night upon you, friends! +What is the news? + +CASSIO +The duke does greet you, general, +And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, +Even on the instant. + +OTHELLO +What is the matter, think you? + +CASSIO +Something from Cyprus as I may divine: +It is a business of some heat: the galleys +Have sent a dozen sequent messengers +This very night at one another's heels, +And many of the consuls, raised and met, +Are at the duke's already: you have been +hotly call'd for; +When, being not at your lodging to be found, +The senate hath sent about three several guests +To search you out. + +OTHELLO +'Tis well I am found by you. +I will but spend a word here in the house, +And go with you. + +Exit + +CASSIO +Ancient, what makes he here? + +IAGO +'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack: +If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. + +CASSIO +I do not understand. + +IAGO +He's married. + +CASSIO +To who? + +Re-enter OTHELLO + +IAGO +Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go? + +OTHELLO +Have with you. + +CASSIO +Here comes another troop to seek for you. + +IAGO +It is Brabantio. General, be advised; +He comes to bad intent. + +Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons + +OTHELLO +Holla! stand there! + +RODERIGO +Signior, it is the Moor. + +BRABANTIO +Down with him, thief! + +They draw on both sides + +IAGO +You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you. + +OTHELLO +Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. +Good signior, you shall more command with years +Than with your weapons. + +BRABANTIO +O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter? +Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her; +For I'll refer me to all things of sense, +If she in chains of magic were not bound, +Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, +So opposite to marriage that she shunned +The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, +Would ever have, to incur a general mock, +Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom +Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight. +Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense +That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, +Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals +That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on; +'Tis probable and palpable to thinking. +I therefore apprehend and do attach thee +For an abuser of the world, a practiser +Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. +Lay hold upon him: if he do resist, +Subdue him at his peril. + +OTHELLO +Hold your hands, +Both you of my inclining, and the rest: +Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it +Without a prompter. Where will you that I go +To answer this your charge? + +BRABANTIO +To prison, till fit time +Of law and course of direct session +Call thee to answer. + +OTHELLO +What if I do obey? +How may the duke be therewith satisfied, +Whose messengers are here about my side, +Upon some present business of the state +To bring me to him? + +First Officer +'Tis true, most worthy signior; +The duke's in council and your noble self, +I am sure, is sent for. + +BRABANTIO +How! the duke in council! +In this time of the night! Bring him away: +Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself, +Or any of my brothers of the state, +Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own; +For if such actions may have passage free, +Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A council-chamber. + +The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending +DUKE OF VENICE +There is no composition in these news +That gives them credit. + +First Senator +Indeed, they are disproportion'd; +My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. + +DUKE OF VENICE +And mine, a hundred and forty. + +Second Senator +And mine, two hundred: +But though they jump not on a just account,-- +As in these cases, where the aim reports, +'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm +A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, it is possible enough to judgment: +I do not so secure me in the error, +But the main article I do approve +In fearful sense. + +Sailor +[Within] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho! + +First Officer +A messenger from the galleys. + +Enter a Sailor + +DUKE OF VENICE +Now, what's the business? + +Sailor +The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; +So was I bid report here to the state +By Signior Angelo. + +DUKE OF VENICE +How say you by this change? + +First Senator +This cannot be, +By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant, +To keep us in false gaze. When we consider +The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, +And let ourselves again but understand, +That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, +So may he with more facile question bear it, +For that it stands not in such warlike brace, +But altogether lacks the abilities +That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this, +We must not think the Turk is so unskilful +To leave that latest which concerns him first, +Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, +To wake and wage a danger profitless. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. + +First Officer +Here is more news. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, +Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes, +Have there injointed them with an after fleet. + +First Senator +Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? + +Messenger +Of thirty sail: and now they do restem +Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance +Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, +Your trusty and most valiant servitor, +With his free duty recommends you thus, +And prays you to believe him. + +DUKE OF VENICE +'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus. +Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? + +First Senator +He's now in Florence. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch. + +First Senator +Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. + +Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers + +DUKE OF VENICE +Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you +Against the general enemy Ottoman. + +To BRABANTIO + +I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; +We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight. + +BRABANTIO +So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; +Neither my place nor aught I heard of business +Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care +Take hold on me, for my particular grief +Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature +That it engluts and swallows other sorrows +And it is still itself. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Why, what's the matter? + +BRABANTIO +My daughter! O, my daughter! + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +Dead? + +BRABANTIO +Ay, to me; +She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted +By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; +For nature so preposterously to err, +Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, +Sans witchcraft could not. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding +Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself +And you of her, the bloody book of law +You shall yourself read in the bitter letter +After your own sense, yea, though our proper son +Stood in your action. + +BRABANTIO +Humbly I thank your grace. +Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, +Your special mandate for the state-affairs +Hath hither brought. + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +We are very sorry for't. + +DUKE OF VENICE +[To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this? + +BRABANTIO +Nothing, but this is so. + +OTHELLO +Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, +My very noble and approved good masters, +That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, +It is most true; true, I have married her: +The very head and front of my offending +Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, +And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace: +For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, +Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used +Their dearest action in the tented field, +And little of this great world can I speak, +More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, +And therefore little shall I grace my cause +In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, +I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver +Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, +What conjuration and what mighty magic, +For such proceeding I am charged withal, +I won his daughter. + +BRABANTIO +A maiden never bold; +Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion +Blush'd at herself; and she, in spite of nature, +Of years, of country, credit, every thing, +To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on! +It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect +That will confess perfection so could err +Against all rules of nature, and must be driven +To find out practises of cunning hell, +Why this should be. I therefore vouch again +That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, +Or with some dram conjured to this effect, +He wrought upon her. + +DUKE OF VENICE +To vouch this, is no proof, +Without more wider and more overt test +Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods +Of modern seeming do prefer against him. + +First Senator +But, Othello, speak: +Did you by indirect and forced courses +Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? +Or came it by request and such fair question +As soul to soul affordeth? + +OTHELLO +I do beseech you, +Send for the lady to the Sagittary, +And let her speak of me before her father: +If you do find me foul in her report, +The trust, the office I do hold of you, +Not only take away, but let your sentence +Even fall upon my life. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Fetch Desdemona hither. + +OTHELLO +Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. + +Exeunt IAGO and Attendants + +And, till she come, as truly as to heaven +I do confess the vices of my blood, +So justly to your grave ears I'll present +How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, +And she in mine. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Say it, Othello. + +OTHELLO +Her father loved me; oft invited me; +Still question'd me the story of my life, +From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, +That I have passed. +I ran it through, even from my boyish days, +To the very moment that he bade me tell it; +Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, +Of moving accidents by flood and field +Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, +Of being taken by the insolent foe +And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence +And portance in my travels' history: +Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, +Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven +It was my hint to speak,--such was the process; +And of the Cannibals that each other eat, +The Anthropophagi and men whose heads +Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear +Would Desdemona seriously incline: +But still the house-affairs would draw her thence: +Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, +She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear +Devour up my discourse: which I observing, +Took once a pliant hour, and found good means +To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart +That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, +Whereof by parcels she had something heard, +But not intentively: I did consent, +And often did beguile her of her tears, +When I did speak of some distressful stroke +That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, +She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: +She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange, +'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: +She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd +That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, +And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, +I should but teach him how to tell my story. +And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: +She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, +And I loved her that she did pity them. +This only is the witchcraft I have used: +Here comes the lady; let her witness it. + +Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants + +DUKE OF VENICE +I think this tale would win my daughter too. +Good Brabantio, +Take up this mangled matter at the best: +Men do their broken weapons rather use +Than their bare hands. + +BRABANTIO +I pray you, hear her speak: +If she confess that she was half the wooer, +Destruction on my head, if my bad blame +Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress: +Do you perceive in all this noble company +Where most you owe obedience? + +DESDEMONA +My noble father, +I do perceive here a divided duty: +To you I am bound for life and education; +My life and education both do learn me +How to respect you; you are the lord of duty; +I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband, +And so much duty as my mother show'd +To you, preferring you before her father, +So much I challenge that I may profess +Due to the Moor my lord. + +BRABANTIO +God be wi' you! I have done. +Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: +I had rather to adopt a child than get it. +Come hither, Moor: +I here do give thee that with all my heart +Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart +I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, +I am glad at soul I have no other child: +For thy escape would teach me tyranny, +To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence, +Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers +Into your favour. +When remedies are past, the griefs are ended +By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. +To mourn a mischief that is past and gone +Is the next way to draw new mischief on. +What cannot be preserved when fortune takes +Patience her injury a mockery makes. +The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief; +He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. + +BRABANTIO +So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile; +We lose it not, so long as we can smile. +He bears the sentence well that nothing bears +But the free comfort which from thence he hears, +But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow +That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. +These sentences, to sugar, or to gall, +Being strong on both sides, are equivocal: +But words are words; I never yet did hear +That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. +I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state. + +DUKE OF VENICE +The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for +Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best +known to you; and though we have there a substitute +of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a +sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer +voice on you: you must therefore be content to +slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this +more stubborn and boisterous expedition. + +OTHELLO +The tyrant custom, most grave senators, +Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war +My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise +A natural and prompt alacrity +I find in hardness, and do undertake +These present wars against the Ottomites. +Most humbly therefore bending to your state, +I crave fit disposition for my wife. +Due reference of place and exhibition, +With such accommodation and besort +As levels with her breeding. + +DUKE OF VENICE +If you please, +Be't at her father's. + +BRABANTIO +I'll not have it so. + +OTHELLO +Nor I. + +DESDEMONA +Nor I; I would not there reside, +To put my father in impatient thoughts +By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, +To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear; +And let me find a charter in your voice, +To assist my simpleness. + +DUKE OF VENICE +What would You, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA +That I did love the Moor to live with him, +My downright violence and storm of fortunes +May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued +Even to the very quality of my lord: +I saw Othello's visage in his mind, +And to his honour and his valiant parts +Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. +So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, +A moth of peace, and he go to the war, +The rites for which I love him are bereft me, +And I a heavy interim shall support +By his dear absence. Let me go with him. + +OTHELLO +Let her have your voices. +Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, +To please the palate of my appetite, +Nor to comply with heat--the young affects +In me defunct--and proper satisfaction. +But to be free and bounteous to her mind: +And heaven defend your good souls, that you think +I will your serious and great business scant +For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys +Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness +My speculative and officed instruments, +That my disports corrupt and taint my business, +Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, +And all indign and base adversities +Make head against my estimation! + +DUKE OF VENICE +Be it as you shall privately determine, +Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste, +And speed must answer it. + +First Senator +You must away to-night. + +OTHELLO +With all my heart. + +DUKE OF VENICE +At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again. +Othello, leave some officer behind, +And he shall our commission bring to you; +With such things else of quality and respect +As doth import you. + +OTHELLO +So please your grace, my ancient; +A man he is of honest and trust: +To his conveyance I assign my wife, +With what else needful your good grace shall think +To be sent after me. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let it be so. +Good night to every one. + +To BRABANTIO + +And, noble signior, +If virtue no delighted beauty lack, +Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. + +First Senator +Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well. + +BRABANTIO +Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: +She has deceived her father, and may thee. + +Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, & c + +OTHELLO +My life upon her faith! Honest Iago, +My Desdemona must I leave to thee: +I prithee, let thy wife attend on her: +And bring them after in the best advantage. +Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour +Of love, of worldly matters and direction, +To spend with thee: we must obey the time. + +Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA + +RODERIGO +Iago,-- + +IAGO +What say'st thou, noble heart? + +RODERIGO +What will I do, thinkest thou? + +IAGO +Why, go to bed, and sleep. + +RODERIGO +I will incontinently drown myself. + +IAGO +If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, +thou silly gentleman! + +RODERIGO +It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and +then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician. + +IAGO +O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four +times seven years; and since I could distinguish +betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man +that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I +would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I +would change my humanity with a baboon. + +RODERIGO +What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so +fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it. + +IAGO +Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus +or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which +our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant +nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up +thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or +distract it with many, either to have it sterile +with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the +power and corrigible authority of this lies in our +wills. If the balance of our lives had not one +scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the +blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us +to most preposterous conclusions: but we have +reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal +stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that +you call love to be a sect or scion. + +RODERIGO +It cannot be. + +IAGO +It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of +the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown +cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy +friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with +cables of perdurable toughness; I could never +better stead thee than now. Put money in thy +purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with +an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It +cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her +love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he +his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou +shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but +money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in +their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food +that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be +to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must +change for youth: when she is sated with his body, +she will find the error of her choice: she must +have change, she must: therefore put money in thy +purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a +more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money +thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt +an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not +too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou +shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of +drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek +thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than +to be drowned and go without her. + +RODERIGO +Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on +the issue? + +IAGO +Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told +thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I +hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no +less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge +against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost +thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many +events in the womb of time which will be delivered. +Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more +of this to-morrow. Adieu. + +RODERIGO +Where shall we meet i' the morning? + +IAGO +At my lodging. + +RODERIGO +I'll be with thee betimes. + +IAGO +Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO +What say you? + +IAGO +No more of drowning, do you hear? + +RODERIGO +I am changed: I'll go sell all my land. + +Exit + +IAGO +Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: +For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, +If I would time expend with such a snipe. +But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor: +And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets +He has done my office: I know not if't be true; +But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, +Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; +The better shall my purpose work on him. +Cassio's a proper man: let me see now: +To get his place and to plume up my will +In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:-- +After some time, to abuse Othello's ear +That he is too familiar with his wife. +He hath a person and a smooth dispose +To be suspected, framed to make women false. +The Moor is of a free and open nature, +That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, +And will as tenderly be led by the nose +As asses are. +I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night +Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay. + +Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen +MONTANO +What from the cape can you discern at sea? + +First Gentleman +Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood; +I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, +Descry a sail. + +MONTANO +Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; +A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: +If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, +What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, +Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? + +Second Gentleman +A segregation of the Turkish fleet: +For do but stand upon the foaming shore, +The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; +The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane, +seems to cast water on the burning bear, +And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: +I never did like molestation view +On the enchafed flood. + +MONTANO +If that the Turkish fleet +Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd: +It is impossible they bear it out. + +Enter a third Gentleman + +Third Gentleman +News, lads! our wars are done. +The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, +That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice +Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance +On most part of their fleet. + +MONTANO +How! is this true? + +Third Gentleman +The ship is here put in, +A Veronesa; Michael Cassio, +Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, +Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea, +And is in full commission here for Cyprus. + +MONTANO +I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. + +Third Gentleman +But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort +Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly, +And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted +With foul and violent tempest. + +MONTANO +Pray heavens he be; +For I have served him, and the man commands +Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! +As well to see the vessel that's come in +As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, +Even till we make the main and the aerial blue +An indistinct regard. + +Third Gentleman +Come, let's do so: +For every minute is expectancy +Of more arrivance. + +Enter CASSIO + +CASSIO +Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, +That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens +Give him defence against the elements, +For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea. + +MONTANO +Is he well shipp'd? + +CASSIO +His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot +Of very expert and approved allowance; +Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, +Stand in bold cure. + +A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!' + +Enter a fourth Gentleman + +CASSIO +What noise? + +Fourth Gentleman +The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea +Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!' + +CASSIO +My hopes do shape him for the governor. + +Guns heard + +Second Gentlemen +They do discharge their shot of courtesy: +Our friends at least. + +CASSIO +I pray you, sir, go forth, +And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. + +Second Gentleman +I shall. + +Exit + +MONTANO +But, good lieutenant, is your general wived? + +CASSIO +Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid +That paragons description and wild fame; +One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, +And in the essential vesture of creation +Does tire the ingener. + +Re-enter second Gentleman + +How now! who has put in? + +Second Gentleman +'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. + +CASSIO +Has had most favourable and happy speed: +Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, +The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands-- +Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-- +As having sense of beauty, do omit +Their mortal natures, letting go safely by +The divine Desdemona. + +MONTANO +What is she? + +CASSIO +She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, +Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, +Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts +A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, +And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, +That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, +Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, +Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits +And bring all Cyprus comfort! + +Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants + +O, behold, +The riches of the ship is come on shore! +Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. +Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, +Before, behind thee, and on every hand, +Enwheel thee round! + +DESDEMONA +I thank you, valiant Cassio. +What tidings can you tell me of my lord? + +CASSIO +He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught +But that he's well and will be shortly here. + +DESDEMONA +O, but I fear--How lost you company? + +CASSIO +The great contention of the sea and skies +Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail. + +Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard + +Second Gentleman +They give their greeting to the citadel; +This likewise is a friend. + +CASSIO +See for the news. + +Exit Gentleman + +Good ancient, you are welcome. + +To EMILIA + +Welcome, mistress. +Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, +That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding +That gives me this bold show of courtesy. + +Kissing her + +IAGO +Sir, would she give you so much of her lips +As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, +You'll have enough. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, she has no speech. + +IAGO +In faith, too much; +I find it still, when I have list to sleep: +Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, +She puts her tongue a little in her heart, +And chides with thinking. + +EMILIA +You have little cause to say so. + +IAGO +Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, +Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens, +Saints m your injuries, devils being offended, +Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds. + +DESDEMONA +O, fie upon thee, slanderer! + +IAGO +Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk: +You rise to play and go to bed to work. + +EMILIA +You shall not write my praise. + +IAGO +No, let me not. + +DESDEMONA +What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst +praise me? + +IAGO +O gentle lady, do not put me to't; +For I am nothing, if not critical. + +DESDEMONA +Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour? + +IAGO +Ay, madam. + +DESDEMONA +I am not merry; but I do beguile +The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. +Come, how wouldst thou praise me? + +IAGO +I am about it; but indeed my invention +Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize; +It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, +And thus she is deliver'd. +If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, +The one's for use, the other useth it. + +DESDEMONA +Well praised! How if she be black and witty? + +IAGO +If she be black, and thereto have a wit, +She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. + +DESDEMONA +Worse and worse. + +EMILIA +How if fair and foolish? + +IAGO +She never yet was foolish that was fair; +For even her folly help'd her to an heir. + +DESDEMONA +These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' +the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for +her that's foul and foolish? + +IAGO +There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, +But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. + +DESDEMONA +O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best. +But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving +woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her +merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? + +IAGO +She that was ever fair and never proud, +Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, +Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, +Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,' +She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, +Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, +She that in wisdom never was so frail +To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; +She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, +See suitors following and not look behind, +She was a wight, if ever such wight were,-- + +DESDEMONA +To do what? + +IAGO +To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. + +DESDEMONA +O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn +of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say +you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal +counsellor? + +CASSIO +He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in +the soldier than in the scholar. + +IAGO +[Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, +whisper: with as little a web as this will I +ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon +her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. +You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as +these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had +been better you had not kissed your three fingers so +oft, which now again you are most apt to play the +sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent +courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers +to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! + +Trumpet within + +The Moor! I know his trumpet. + +CASSIO +'Tis truly so. + +DESDEMONA +Let's meet him and receive him. + +CASSIO +Lo, where he comes! + +Enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +O my fair warrior! + +DESDEMONA +My dear Othello! + +OTHELLO +It gives me wonder great as my content +To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! +If after every tempest come such calms, +May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! +And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas +Olympus-high and duck again as low +As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, +'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, +My soul hath her content so absolute +That not another comfort like to this +Succeeds in unknown fate. + +DESDEMONA +The heavens forbid +But that our loves and comforts should increase, +Even as our days do grow! + +OTHELLO +Amen to that, sweet powers! +I cannot speak enough of this content; +It stops me here; it is too much of joy: +And this, and this, the greatest discords be + +Kissing her + +That e'er our hearts shall make! + +IAGO +[Aside] O, you are well tuned now! +But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, +As honest as I am. + +OTHELLO +Come, let us to the castle. +News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks +are drown'd. +How does my old acquaintance of this isle? +Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus; +I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, +I prattle out of fashion, and I dote +In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago, +Go to the bay and disembark my coffers: +Bring thou the master to the citadel; +He is a good one, and his worthiness +Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona, +Once more, well met at Cyprus. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +IAGO +Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come +hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base +men being in love have then a nobility in their +natures more than is native to them--list me. The +lieutenant tonight watches on the court of +guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is +directly in love with him. + +RODERIGO +With him! why, 'tis not possible. + +IAGO +Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. +Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, +but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies: +and will she love him still for prating? let not +thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed; +and what delight shall she have to look on the +devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of +sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to +give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, +sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which +the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these +required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will +find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, +disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will +instruct her in it and compel her to some second +choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most +pregnant and unforced position--who stands so +eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio +does? a knave very voluble; no further +conscionable than in putting on the mere form of +civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing +of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, +none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a +finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and +counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never +present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the +knave is handsome, young, and hath all those +requisites in him that folly and green minds look +after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman +hath found him already. + +RODERIGO +I cannot believe that in her; she's full of +most blessed condition. + +IAGO +Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of +grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never +have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou +not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst +not mark that? + +RODERIGO +Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. + +IAGO +Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue +to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met +so near with their lips that their breaths embraced +together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these +mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes +the master and main exercise, the incorporate +conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I +have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; +for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows +you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find +some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking +too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what +other course you please, which the time shall more +favourably minister. + +RODERIGO +Well. + +IAGO +Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply +may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for +even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to +mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true +taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So +shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by +the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the +impediment most profitably removed, without the +which there were no expectation of our prosperity. + +RODERIGO +I will do this, if I can bring it to any +opportunity. + +IAGO +I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: +I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. + +RODERIGO +Adieu. + +Exit + +IAGO +That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; +That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: +The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, +Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, +And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona +A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; +Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure +I stand accountant for as great a sin, +But partly led to diet my revenge, +For that I do suspect the lusty Moor +Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof +Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; +And nothing can or shall content my soul +Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, +Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor +At least into a jealousy so strong +That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, +If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash +For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, +I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, +Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb-- +For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too-- +Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me. +For making him egregiously an ass +And practising upon his peace and quiet +Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused: +Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used. + +Exit + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People following +Herald +It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant +general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, +importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, +every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, +some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and +revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these +beneficial news, it is the celebration of his +nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be +proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full +liberty of feasting from this present hour of five +till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the +isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants +OTHELLO +Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: +Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, +Not to outsport discretion. + +CASSIO +Iago hath direction what to do; +But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye +Will I look to't. + +OTHELLO +Iago is most honest. +Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest +Let me have speech with you. + +To DESDEMONA + +Come, my dear love, +The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; +That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you. +Good night. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +Enter IAGO + +CASSIO +Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. + +IAGO +Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the +clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love +of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: +he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and +she is sport for Jove. + +CASSIO +She's a most exquisite lady. + +IAGO +And, I'll warrant her, fun of game. + +CASSIO +Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature. + +IAGO +What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of +provocation. + +CASSIO +An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. + +IAGO +And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? + +CASSIO +She is indeed perfection. + +IAGO +Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I +have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace +of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to +the health of black Othello. + +CASSIO +Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and +unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish +courtesy would invent some other custom of +entertainment. + +IAGO +O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for +you. + +CASSIO +I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was +craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation +it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, +and dare not task my weakness with any more. + +IAGO +What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants +desire it. + +CASSIO +Where are they? + +IAGO +Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. + +CASSIO +I'll do't; but it dislikes me. + +Exit + +IAGO +If I can fasten but one cup upon him, +With that which he hath drunk to-night already, +He'll be as full of quarrel and offence +As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, +Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, +To Desdemona hath to-night caroused +Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch: +Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, +That hold their honours in a wary distance, +The very elements of this warlike isle, +Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, +And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, +Am I to put our Cassio in some action +That may offend the isle.--But here they come: +If consequence do but approve my dream, +My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. + +Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen; servants following with wine + +CASSIO +'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. + +MONTANO +Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am +a soldier. + +IAGO +Some wine, ho! + +Sings + +And let me the canakin clink, clink; +And let me the canakin clink +A soldier's a man; +A life's but a span; +Why, then, let a soldier drink. +Some wine, boys! + +CASSIO +'Fore God, an excellent song. + +IAGO +I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are +most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and +your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing +to your English. + +CASSIO +Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? + +IAGO +Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead +drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he +gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle +can be filled. + +CASSIO +To the health of our general! + +MONTANO +I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. + +IAGO +O sweet England! +King Stephen was a worthy peer, +His breeches cost him but a crown; +He held them sixpence all too dear, +With that he call'd the tailor lown. +He was a wight of high renown, +And thou art but of low degree: +'Tis pride that pulls the country down; +Then take thine auld cloak about thee. +Some wine, ho! + +CASSIO +Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. + +IAGO +Will you hear't again? + +CASSIO +No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that +does those things. Well, God's above all; and there +be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. + +IAGO +It's true, good lieutenant. + +CASSIO +For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor +any man of quality,--I hope to be saved. + +IAGO +And so do I too, lieutenant. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the +lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's +have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive +us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business. +Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my +ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left: +I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and +speak well enough. + +All +Excellent well. + +CASSIO +Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. + +Exit + +MONTANO +To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. + +IAGO +You see this fellow that is gone before; +He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar +And give direction: and do but see his vice; +'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, +The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him. +I fear the trust Othello puts him in. +On some odd time of his infirmity, +Will shake this island. + +MONTANO +But is he often thus? + +IAGO +'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: +He'll watch the horologe a double set, +If drink rock not his cradle. + +MONTANO +It were well +The general were put in mind of it. +Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature +Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, +And looks not on his evils: is not this true? + +Enter RODERIGO + +IAGO +[Aside to him] How now, Roderigo! +I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. + +Exit RODERIGO + +MONTANO +And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor +Should hazard such a place as his own second +With one of an ingraft infirmity: +It were an honest action to say +So to the Moor. + +IAGO +Not I, for this fair island: +I do love Cassio well; and would do much +To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise? + +Cry within: 'Help! help!' + +Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO + +CASSIO +You rogue! you rascal! + +MONTANO +What's the matter, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +A knave teach me my duty! +I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. + +RODERIGO +Beat me! + +CASSIO +Dost thou prate, rogue? + +Striking RODERIGO + +MONTANO +Nay, good lieutenant; + +Staying him + +I pray you, sir, hold your hand. + +CASSIO +Let me go, sir, +Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard. + +MONTANO +Come, come, +you're drunk. + +CASSIO +Drunk! + +They fight + +IAGO +[Aside to RODERIGO] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;-- +Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir; +Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed! + +Bell rings + +Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho! +The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold! +You will be shamed for ever. + +Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +What is the matter here? + +MONTANO +'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. + +Faints + +OTHELLO +Hold, for your lives! + +IAGO +Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,-- +Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? +Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! + +OTHELLO +Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? +Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that +Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? +For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: +He that stirs next to carve for his own rage +Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. +Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle +From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? +Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, +Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. + +IAGO +I do not know: friends all but now, even now, +In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom +Devesting them for bed; and then, but now-- +As if some planet had unwitted men-- +Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, +In opposition bloody. I cannot speak +Any beginning to this peevish odds; +And would in action glorious I had lost +Those legs that brought me to a part of it! + +OTHELLO +How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? + +CASSIO +I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. + +OTHELLO +Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; +The gravity and stillness of your youth +The world hath noted, and your name is great +In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, +That you unlace your reputation thus +And spend your rich opinion for the name +Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. + +MONTANO +Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: +Your officer, Iago, can inform you,-- +While I spare speech, which something now +offends me,-- +Of all that I do know: nor know I aught +By me that's said or done amiss this night; +Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, +And to defend ourselves it be a sin +When violence assails us. + +OTHELLO +Now, by heaven, +My blood begins my safer guides to rule; +And passion, having my best judgment collied, +Assays to lead the way: if I once stir, +Or do but lift this arm, the best of you +Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know +How this foul rout began, who set it on; +And he that is approved in this offence, +Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, +Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, +Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, +To manage private and domestic quarrel, +In night, and on the court and guard of safety! +'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't? + +MONTANO +If partially affined, or leagued in office, +Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, +Thou art no soldier. + +IAGO +Touch me not so near: +I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth +Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; +Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth +Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. +Montano and myself being in speech, +There comes a fellow crying out for help: +And Cassio following him with determined sword, +To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman +Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: +Myself the crying fellow did pursue, +Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out-- +The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, +Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather +For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, +And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night +I ne'er might say before. When I came back-- +For this was brief--I found them close together, +At blow and thrust; even as again they were +When you yourself did part them. +More of this matter cannot I report: +But men are men; the best sometimes forget: +Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, +As men in rage strike those that wish them best, +Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received +From him that fled some strange indignity, +Which patience could not pass. + +OTHELLO +I know, Iago, +Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, +Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee +But never more be officer of mine. + +Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended + +Look, if my gentle love be not raised up! +I'll make thee an example. + +DESDEMONA +What's the matter? + +OTHELLO +All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. +Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon: +Lead him off. + +To MONTANO, who is led off + +Iago, look with care about the town, +And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. +Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life +To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. + +Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO + +IAGO +What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +Ay, past all surgery. + +IAGO +Marry, heaven forbid! + +CASSIO +Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost +my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of +myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, +Iago, my reputation! + +IAGO +As I am an honest man, I thought you had received +some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than +in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false +imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without +deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, +unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! +there are ways to recover the general again: you +are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in +policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his +offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue +to him again, and he's yours. + +CASSIO +I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so +good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so +indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? +and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse +fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible +spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, +let us call thee devil! + +IAGO +What was he that you followed with your sword? What +had he done to you? + +CASSIO +I know not. + +IAGO +Is't possible? + +CASSIO +I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; +a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men +should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away +their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance +revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! + +IAGO +Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus +recovered? + +CASSIO +It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place +to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me +another, to make me frankly despise myself. + +IAGO +Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, +the place, and the condition of this country +stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; +but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +CASSIO +I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me +I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, +such an answer would stop them all. To be now a +sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a +beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is +unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. + +IAGO +Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, +if it be well used: exclaim no more against it. +And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. + +CASSIO +I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! + +IAGO +You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man. +I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife +is now the general: may say so in this respect, for +that he hath devoted and given up himself to the +contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and +graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune +her help to put you in your place again: she is of +so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, +she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more +than she is requested: this broken joint between +you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my +fortunes against any lay worth naming, this +crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. + +CASSIO +You advise me well. + +IAGO +I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. + +CASSIO +I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will +beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: +I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here. + +IAGO +You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I +must to the watch. +CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago. + +Exit + +IAGO +And what's he then that says I play the villain? +When this advice is free I give and honest, +Probal to thinking and indeed the course +To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy +The inclining Desdemona to subdue +In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful +As the free elements. And then for her +To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism, +All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, +His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, +That she may make, unmake, do what she list, +Even as her appetite shall play the god +With his weak function. How am I then a villain +To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, +Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! +When devils will the blackest sins put on, +They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, +As I do now: for whiles this honest fool +Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes +And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, +I'll pour this pestilence into his ear, +That she repeals him for her body's lust; +And by how much she strives to do him good, +She shall undo her credit with the Moor. +So will I turn her virtue into pitch, +And out of her own goodness make the net +That shall enmesh them all. + +Re-enter RODERIGO + +How now, Roderigo! + +RODERIGO +I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that +hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is +almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well +cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall +have so much experience for my pains, and so, with +no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice. + +IAGO +How poor are they that have not patience! +What wound did ever heal but by degrees? +Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; +And wit depends on dilatory time. +Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee. +And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio: +Though other things grow fair against the sun, +Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: +Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; +Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. +Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: +Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: +Nay, get thee gone. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Two things are to be done: +My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; +I'll set her on; +Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, +And bring him jump when he may Cassio find +Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way +Dull not device by coldness and delay. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the castle. + +Enter CASSIO and some Musicians +CASSIO +Masters, play here; I will content your pains; +Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.' + +Music + +Enter Clown + +Clown +Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples, +that they speak i' the nose thus? + +First Musician +How, sir, how! + +Clown +Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments? + +First Musician +Ay, marry, are they, sir. + +Clown +O, thereby hangs a tail. + +First Musician +Whereby hangs a tale, sir? + +Clown +Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know. +But, masters, here's money for you: and the general +so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's +sake, to make no more noise with it. + +First Musician +Well, sir, we will not. + +Clown +If you have any music that may not be heard, to't +again: but, as they say to hear music the general +does not greatly care. + +First Musician +We have none such, sir. + +Clown +Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away: +go; vanish into air; away! + +Exeunt Musicians + +CASSIO +Dost thou hear, my honest friend? + +Clown +No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you. + +CASSIO +Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece +of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends +the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's +one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech: +wilt thou do this? + +Clown +She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I +shall seem to notify unto her. + +CASSIO +Do, good my friend. + +Exit Clown + +Enter IAGO + +In happy time, Iago. + +IAGO +You have not been a-bed, then? + +CASSIO +Why, no; the day had broke +Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago, +To send in to your wife: my suit to her +Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona +Procure me some access. + +IAGO +I'll send her to you presently; +And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor +Out of the way, that your converse and business +May be more free. + +CASSIO +I humbly thank you for't. + +Exit IAGO + +I never knew +A Florentine more kind and honest. + +Enter EMILIA + +EMILIA +Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry +For your displeasure; but all will sure be well. +The general and his wife are talking of it; +And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies, +That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus, +And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom +He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you +And needs no other suitor but his likings +To take the safest occasion by the front +To bring you in again. + +CASSIO +Yet, I beseech you, +If you think fit, or that it may be done, +Give me advantage of some brief discourse +With Desdemona alone. + +EMILIA +Pray you, come in; +I will bestow you where you shall have time +To speak your bosom freely. + +CASSIO +I am much bound to you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen +OTHELLO +These letters give, Iago, to the pilot; +And by him do my duties to the senate: +That done, I will be walking on the works; +Repair there to me. + +IAGO +Well, my good lord, I'll do't. + +OTHELLO +This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't? + +Gentleman +We'll wait upon your lordship. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The garden of the castle. + +Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA +DESDEMONA +Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do +All my abilities in thy behalf. + +EMILIA +Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband, +As if the case were his. + +DESDEMONA +O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio, +But I will have my lord and you again +As friendly as you were. + +CASSIO +Bounteous madam, +Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, +He's never any thing but your true servant. + +DESDEMONA +I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord: +You have known him long; and be you well assured +He shall in strangeness stand no further off +Than in a polite distance. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, lady, +That policy may either last so long, +Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, +Or breed itself so out of circumstance, +That, I being absent and my place supplied, +My general will forget my love and service. + +DESDEMONA +Do not doubt that; before Emilia here +I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee, +If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it +To the last article: my lord shall never rest; +I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience; +His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; +I'll intermingle every thing he does +With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio; +For thy solicitor shall rather die +Than give thy cause away. + +EMILIA +Madam, here comes my lord. + +CASSIO +Madam, I'll take my leave. + +DESDEMONA +Why, stay, and hear me speak. + +CASSIO +Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease, +Unfit for mine own purposes. + +DESDEMONA +Well, do your discretion. + +Exit CASSIO + +Enter OTHELLO and IAGO + +IAGO +Ha! I like not that. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say? + +IAGO +Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what. + +OTHELLO +Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? + +IAGO +Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it, +That he would steal away so guilty-like, +Seeing you coming. + +OTHELLO +I do believe 'twas he. + +DESDEMONA +How now, my lord! +I have been talking with a suitor here, +A man that languishes in your displeasure. + +OTHELLO +Who is't you mean? + +DESDEMONA +Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, +If I have any grace or power to move you, +His present reconciliation take; +For if he be not one that truly loves you, +That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, +I have no judgment in an honest face: +I prithee, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Went he hence now? + +DESDEMONA +Ay, sooth; so humbled +That he hath left part of his grief with me, +To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. + +DESDEMONA +But shall't be shortly? + +OTHELLO +The sooner, sweet, for you. + +DESDEMONA +Shall't be to-night at supper? + +OTHELLO +No, not to-night. + +DESDEMONA +To-morrow dinner, then? + +OTHELLO +I shall not dine at home; +I meet the captains at the citadel. + +DESDEMONA +Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn; +On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: +I prithee, name the time, but let it not +Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent; +And yet his trespass, in our common reason-- +Save that, they say, the wars must make examples +Out of their best--is not almost a fault +To incur a private cheque. When shall he come? +Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul, +What you would ask me, that I should deny, +Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio, +That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time, +When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, +Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do +To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,-- + +OTHELLO +Prithee, no more: let him come when he will; +I will deny thee nothing. + +DESDEMONA +Why, this is not a boon; +'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, +Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, +Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit +To your own person: nay, when I have a suit +Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, +It shall be full of poise and difficult weight +And fearful to be granted. + +OTHELLO +I will deny thee nothing: +Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, +To leave me but a little to myself. + +DESDEMONA +Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. + +OTHELLO +Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight. + +DESDEMONA +Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you; +Whate'er you be, I am obedient. + +Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA + +OTHELLO +Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, +But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, +Chaos is come again. + +IAGO +My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say, Iago? + +IAGO +Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, +Know of your love? + +OTHELLO +He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? + +IAGO +But for a satisfaction of my thought; +No further harm. + +OTHELLO +Why of thy thought, Iago? + +IAGO +I did not think he had been acquainted with her. + +OTHELLO +O, yes; and went between us very oft. + +IAGO +Indeed! + +OTHELLO +Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that? +Is he not honest? + +IAGO +Honest, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Honest! ay, honest. + +IAGO +My lord, for aught I know. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou think? + +IAGO +Think, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Think, my lord! +By heaven, he echoes me, +As if there were some monster in his thought +Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something: +I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that, +When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like? +And when I told thee he was of my counsel +In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!' +And didst contract and purse thy brow together, +As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain +Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, +Show me thy thought. + +IAGO +My lord, you know I love you. + +OTHELLO +I think thou dost; +And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, +And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath, +Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: +For such things in a false disloyal knave +Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just +They are close delations, working from the heart +That passion cannot rule. + +IAGO +For Michael Cassio, +I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. + +OTHELLO +I think so too. + +IAGO +Men should be what they seem; +Or those that be not, would they might seem none! + +OTHELLO +Certain, men should be what they seem. + +IAGO +Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man. + +OTHELLO +Nay, yet there's more in this: +I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, +As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts +The worst of words. + +IAGO +Good my lord, pardon me: +Though I am bound to every act of duty, +I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. +Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false; +As where's that palace whereinto foul things +Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure, +But some uncleanly apprehensions +Keep leets and law-days and in session sit +With meditations lawful? + +OTHELLO +Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, +If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear +A stranger to thy thoughts. + +IAGO +I do beseech you-- +Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, +As, I confess, it is my nature's plague +To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy +Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet, +From one that so imperfectly conceits, +Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble +Out of his scattering and unsure observance. +It were not for your quiet nor your good, +Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, +To let you know my thoughts. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou mean? + +IAGO +Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, +Is the immediate jewel of their souls: +Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; +'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands: +But he that filches from me my good name +Robs me of that which not enriches him +And makes me poor indeed. + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. + +IAGO +You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; +Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. + +OTHELLO +Ha! + +IAGO +O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; +It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock +The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss +Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; +But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er +Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! + +OTHELLO +O misery! + +IAGO +Poor and content is rich and rich enough, +But riches fineless is as poor as winter +To him that ever fears he shall be poor. +Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend +From jealousy! + +OTHELLO +Why, why is this? +Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy, +To follow still the changes of the moon +With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt +Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, +When I shall turn the business of my soul +To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, +Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous +To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, +Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well; +Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: +Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw +The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; +For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; +I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; +And on the proof, there is no more but this,-- +Away at once with love or jealousy! + +IAGO +I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason +To show the love and duty that I bear you +With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, +Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. +Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; +Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: +I would not have your free and noble nature, +Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't: +I know our country disposition well; +In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks +They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience +Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. + +Timon of Athens +Shakespeare homepage | Timon of Athens | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors +Poet +Good day, sir. + +Painter +I am glad you're well. + +Poet +I have not seen you long: how goes the world? + +Painter +It wears, sir, as it grows. + +Poet +Ay, that's well known: +But what particular rarity? what strange, +Which manifold record not matches? See, +Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power +Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. + +Painter +I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. + +Merchant +O, 'tis a worthy lord. + +Jeweller +Nay, that's most fix'd. + +Merchant +A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, +To an untirable and continuate goodness: +He passes. +Jeweller: I have a jewel here-- + +Merchant +O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? +Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- + +Poet +[Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have +praised the vile, +It stains the glory in that happy verse +Which aptly sings the good.' + +Merchant +'Tis a good form. + +Looking at the jewel + +Jeweller +And rich: here is a water, look ye. + +Painter +You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication +To the great lord. + +Poet +A thing slipp'd idly from me. +Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes +From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint +Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame +Provokes itself and like the current flies +Each bound it chafes. What have you there? + +Painter +A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? + +Poet +Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. +Let's see your piece. + +Painter +'Tis a good piece. + +Poet +So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. + +Painter +Indifferent. + +Poet +Admirable: how this grace +Speaks his own standing! what a mental power +This eye shoots forth! how big imagination +Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture +One might interpret. + +Painter +It is a pretty mocking of the life. +Here is a touch; is't good? + +Poet +I will say of it, +It tutors nature: artificial strife +Lives in these touches, livelier than life. + +Enter certain Senators, and pass over + +Painter +How this lord is follow'd! + +Poet +The senators of Athens: happy man! + +Painter +Look, more! + +Poet +You see this confluence, this great flood +of visitors. +I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, +Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug +With amplest entertainment: my free drift +Halts not particularly, but moves itself +In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice +Infects one comma in the course I hold; +But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, +Leaving no tract behind. + +Painter +How shall I understand you? + +Poet +I will unbolt to you. +You see how all conditions, how all minds, +As well of glib and slippery creatures as +Of grave and austere quality, tender down +Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune +Upon his good and gracious nature hanging +Subdues and properties to his love and tendance +All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer +To Apemantus, that few things loves better +Than to abhor himself: even he drops down +The knee before him, and returns in peace +Most rich in Timon's nod. + +Painter +I saw them speak together. + +Poet +Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill +Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount +Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, +That labour on the bosom of this sphere +To propagate their states: amongst them all, +Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, +One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame, +Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; +Whose present grace to present slaves and servants +Translates his rivals. + +Painter +'Tis conceived to scope. +This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, +With one man beckon'd from the rest below, +Bowing his head against the sleepy mount +To climb his happiness, would be well express'd +In our condition. + +Poet +Nay, sir, but hear me on. +All those which were his fellows but of late, +Some better than his value, on the moment +Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, +Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, +Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him +Drink the free air. + +Painter +Ay, marry, what of these? + +Poet +When Fortune in her shift and change of mood +Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants +Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top +Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, +Not one accompanying his declining foot. + +Painter +'Tis common: +A thousand moral paintings I can show +That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's +More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well +To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen +The foot above the head. + +Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following + +TIMON +Imprison'd is he, say you? + +Messenger +Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, +His means most short, his creditors most strait: +Your honourable letter he desires +To those have shut him up; which failing, +Periods his comfort. + +TIMON +Noble Ventidius! Well; +I am not of that feather to shake off +My friend when he must need me. I do know him +A gentleman that well deserves a help: +Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, +and free him. + +Messenger +Your lordship ever binds him. + +TIMON +Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; +And being enfranchised, bid him come to me. +'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, +But to support him after. Fare you well. + +Messenger +All happiness to your honour! + +Exit + +Enter an old Athenian + +Old Athenian +Lord Timon, hear me speak. + +TIMON +Freely, good father. + +Old Athenian +Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. + +TIMON +I have so: what of him? + +Old Athenian +Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. + +TIMON +Attends he here, or no? Lucilius! + +LUCILIUS +Here, at your lordship's service. + +Old Athenian +This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, +By night frequents my house. I am a man +That from my first have been inclined to thrift; +And my estate deserves an heir more raised +Than one which holds a trencher. + +TIMON +Well; what further? + +Old Athenian +One only daughter have I, no kin else, +On whom I may confer what I have got: +The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride, +And I have bred her at my dearest cost +In qualities of the best. This man of thine +Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord, +Join with me to forbid him her resort; +Myself have spoke in vain. + +TIMON +The man is honest. + +Old Athenian +Therefore he will be, Timon: +His honesty rewards him in itself; +It must not bear my daughter. + +TIMON +Does she love him? + +Old Athenian +She is young and apt: +Our own precedent passions do instruct us +What levity's in youth. + +TIMON +[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid? + +LUCILIUS +Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. + +Old Athenian +If in her marriage my consent be missing, +I call the gods to witness, I will choose +Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, +And dispossess her all. + +TIMON +How shall she be endow'd, +if she be mated with an equal husband? + +Old Athenian +Three talents on the present; in future, all. + +TIMON +This gentleman of mine hath served me long: +To build his fortune I will strain a little, +For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: +What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, +And make him weigh with her. + +Old Athenian +Most noble lord, +Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. + +TIMON +My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. + +LUCILIUS +Humbly I thank your lordship: never may +The state or fortune fall into my keeping, +Which is not owed to you! + +Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian + +Poet +Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! + +TIMON +I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: +Go not away. What have you there, my friend? + +Painter +A piece of painting, which I do beseech +Your lordship to accept. + +TIMON +Painting is welcome. +The painting is almost the natural man; +or since dishonour traffics with man's nature, +He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are +Even such as they give out. I like your work; +And you shall find I like it: wait attendance +Till you hear further from me. + +Painter +The gods preserve ye! + +TIMON +Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; +We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel +Hath suffer'd under praise. + +Jeweller +What, my lord! dispraise? + +TIMON +A more satiety of commendations. +If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, +It would unclew me quite. + +Jeweller +My lord, 'tis rated +As those which sell would give: but you well know, +Things of like value differing in the owners +Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord, +You mend the jewel by the wearing it. + +TIMON +Well mock'd. + +Merchant +No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, +Which all men speak with him. + +TIMON +Look, who comes here: will you be chid? + +Enter APEMANTUS + +Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship. + +Merchant +He'll spare none. + +TIMON +Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! + +APEMANTUS +Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; +When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. + +TIMON +Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. + +APEMANTUS +Are they not Athenians? + +TIMON +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then I repent not. +Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name. + +TIMON +Thou art proud, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon. + +TIMON +Whither art going? + +APEMANTUS +To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. + +TIMON +That's a deed thou'lt die for. + +APEMANTUS +Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. + +TIMON +How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +The best, for the innocence. + +TIMON +Wrought he not well that painted it? + +APEMANTUS +He wrought better that made the painter; and yet +he's but a filthy piece of work. + +Painter +You're a dog. + +APEMANTUS +Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog? + +TIMON +Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +No; I eat not lords. + +TIMON +An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. + +APEMANTUS +O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. + +TIMON +That's a lascivious apprehension. + +APEMANTUS +So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. + +TIMON +How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a +man a doit. + +TIMON +What dost thou think 'tis worth? + +APEMANTUS +Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! + +Poet +How now, philosopher! + +APEMANTUS +Thou liest. + +Poet +Art not one? + +APEMANTUS +Yes. + +Poet +Then I lie not. + +APEMANTUS +Art not a poet? + +Poet +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou +hast feigned him a worthy fellow. + +Poet +That's not feigned; he is so. + +APEMANTUS +Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy +labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' +the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! + +TIMON +What wouldst do then, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. + +TIMON +What, thyself? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Wherefore? + +APEMANTUS +That I had no angry wit to be a lord. +Art not thou a merchant? + +Merchant +Ay, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! + +Merchant +If traffic do it, the gods do it. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! + +Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger + +TIMON +What trumpet's that? + +Messenger +'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, +All of companionship. + +TIMON +Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +You must needs dine with me: go not you hence +Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, +Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest + +Most welcome, sir! + +APEMANTUS +So, so, there! +Aches contract and starve your supple joints! +That there should be small love 'mongst these +sweet knaves, +And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out +Into baboon and monkey. + +ALCIBIADES +Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed +Most hungerly on your sight. + +TIMON +Right welcome, sir! +Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time +In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. + +Exeunt all except APEMANTUS + +Enter two Lords + +First Lord +What time o' day is't, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Time to be honest. + +First Lord +That time serves still. + +APEMANTUS +The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. + +Second Lord +Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. + +Second Lord +Fare thee well, fare thee well. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. + +Second Lord +Why, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to +give thee none. + +First Lord +Hang thyself! + +APEMANTUS +No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy +requests to thy friend. + +Second Lord +Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! + +APEMANTUS +I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass. + +Exit + +First Lord +He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, +And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes +The very heart of kindness. + +Second Lord +He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, +Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays +Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, +But breeds the giver a return exceeding +All use of quittance. + +First Lord +The noblest mind he carries +That ever govern'd man. + +Second Lord +Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? + +First Lord +I'll keep you company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself +VENTIDIUS +Most honour'd Timon, +It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age, +And call him to long peace. +He is gone happy, and has left me rich: +Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound +To your free heart, I do return those talents, +Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help +I derived liberty. + +TIMON +O, by no means, +Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: +I gave it freely ever; and there's none +Can truly say he gives, if he receives: +If our betters play at that game, we must not dare +To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair. + +VENTIDIUS +A noble spirit! + +TIMON +Nay, my lords, + +They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON + +Ceremony was but devised at first +To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, +Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; +But where there is true friendship, there needs none. +Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes +Than my fortunes to me. + +They sit + +First Lord +My lord, we always have confess'd it. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not? + +TIMON +O, Apemantus, you are welcome. + +APEMANTUS +No; +You shall not make me welcome: +I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. + +TIMON +Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there +Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame. +They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond +man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by +himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is +he fit for't, indeed. + +APEMANTUS +Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to +observe; I give thee warning on't. + +TIMON +I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, +therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; +prithee, let my meat make thee silent. + +APEMANTUS +I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should +ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of +men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me +to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood; +and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. +I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: +Methinks they should invite them without knives; +Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. +There's much example for't; the fellow that sits +next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the +breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest +man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a +huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; +Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: +Great men should drink with harness on their throats. + +TIMON +My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. + +Second Lord +Let it flow this way, my good lord. + +APEMANTUS +Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides +well. Those healths will make thee and thy state +look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to +be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire: +This and my food are equals; there's no odds: +Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. +Apemantus' grace. +Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; +I pray for no man but myself: +Grant I may never prove so fond, +To trust man on his oath or bond; +Or a harlot, for her weeping; +Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping: +Or a keeper with my freedom; +Or my friends, if I should need 'em. +Amen. So fall to't: +Rich men sin, and I eat root. + +Eats and drinks + +Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! + +TIMON +Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. + +ALCIBIADES +My heart is ever at your service, my lord. + +TIMON +You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a +dinner of friends. + +ALCIBIADES +So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat +like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast. + +APEMANTUS +Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then, +that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em! + +First Lord +Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you +would once use our hearts, whereby we might express +some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves +for ever perfect. + +TIMON +O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods +themselves have provided that I shall have much help +from you: how had you been my friends else? why +have you that charitable title from thousands, did +not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told +more of you to myself than you can with modesty +speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm +you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any +friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they +were the most needless creatures living, should we +ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble +sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their +sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished +myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We +are born to do benefits: and what better or +properer can we can our own than the riches of our +friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have +so many, like brothers, commanding one another's +fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born! +Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to +forget their faults, I drink to you. + +APEMANTUS +Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. + +Second Lord +Joy had the like conception in our eyes +And at that instant like a babe sprung up. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. + +Third Lord +I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. + +APEMANTUS +Much! + +Tucket, within + +TIMON +What means that trump? + +Enter a Servant + +How now? + +Servant +Please you, my lord, there are certain +ladies most desirous of admittance. + +TIMON +Ladies! what are their wills? + +Servant +There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which +bears that office, to signify their pleasures. + +TIMON +I pray, let them be admitted. + +Enter Cupid + +Cupid +Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all +That of his bounties taste! The five best senses +Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely +To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear, +Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise; +They only now come but to feast thine eyes. + +TIMON +They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance: +Music, make their welcome! + +Exit Cupid + +First Lord +You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved. + +Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing + +APEMANTUS +Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! +They dance! they are mad women. +Like madness is the glory of this life. +As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. +We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves; +And spend our flatteries, to drink those men +Upon whose age we void it up again, +With poisonous spite and envy. +Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? +Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves +Of their friends' gift? +I should fear those that dance before me now +Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; +Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease + +TIMON +You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, +Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, +Which was not half so beautiful and kind; +You have added worth unto 't and lustre, +And entertain'd me with mine own device; +I am to thank you for 't. + +First Lady +My lord, you take us even at the best. + +APEMANTUS +'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold +taking, I doubt me. + +TIMON +Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you: +Please you to dispose yourselves. + +All Ladies +Most thankfully, my lord. + +Exeunt Cupid and Ladies + +TIMON +Flavius. + +FLAVIUS +My lord? + +TIMON +The little casket bring me hither. + +FLAVIUS +Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! +There is no crossing him in 's humour; + +Aside + +Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should, +When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could. +'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, +That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. + +Exit + +First Lord +Where be our men? + +Servant +Here, my lord, in readiness. + +Second Lord +Our horses! + +Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket + +TIMON +O my friends, +I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord, +I must entreat you, honour me so much +As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it, +Kind my lord. + +First Lord +I am so far already in your gifts,-- + +All +So are we all. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate +Newly alighted, and come to visit you. + +TIMON +They are fairly welcome. + +FLAVIUS +I beseech your honour, +Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. + +TIMON +Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee: +I prithee, let's be provided to show them +entertainment. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] I scarce know how. + +Enter a Second Servant + +Second Servant +May it please your honour, Lord Lucius, +Out of his free love, hath presented to you +Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. + +TIMON +I shall accept them fairly; let the presents +Be worthily entertain'd. + +Enter a third Servant + +How now! what news? + +Third Servant +Please you, my lord, that honourable +gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company +to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour +two brace of greyhounds. + +TIMON +I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, +Not without fair reward. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] What will this come to? +He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, +And all out of an empty coffer: +Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, +To show him what a beggar his heart is, +Being of no power to make his wishes good: +His promises fly so beyond his state +That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes +For every word: he is so kind that he now +Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books. +Well, would I were gently put out of office +Before I were forced out! +Happier is he that has no friend to feed +Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. +I bleed inwardly for my lord. + +Exit + +TIMON +You do yourselves +Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: +Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. + +Second Lord +With more than common thanks I will receive it. + +Third Lord +O, he's the very soul of bounty! + +TIMON +And now I remember, my lord, you gave +Good words the other day of a bay courser +I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it. + +Second Lord +O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. + +TIMON +You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man +Can justly praise but what he does affect: +I weigh my friend's affection with mine own; +I'll tell you true. I'll call to you. + +All Lords +O, none so welcome. + +TIMON +I take all and your several visitations +So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; +Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, +And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades, +Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; +It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living +Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast +Lie in a pitch'd field. + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, defiled land, my lord. + +First Lord +We are so virtuously bound-- + +TIMON +And so +Am I to you. + +Second Lord +So infinitely endear'd-- + +TIMON +All to you. Lights, more lights! + +First Lord +The best of happiness, +Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon! + +TIMON +Ready for his friends. + +Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON + +APEMANTUS +What a coil's here! +Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! +I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums +That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs: +Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs, +Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies. + +TIMON +Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be +good to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too, +there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then +thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, +Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in +paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and +vain-glories? + +TIMON +Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am +sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come +with better music. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +So: +Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then: +I'll lock thy heaven from thee. +O, that men's ears should be +To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Senator's house. + +Enter Senator, with papers in his hand +Senator +And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore +He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, +Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion +Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not. +If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, +And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. +If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more +Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, +Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight, +And able horses. No porter at his gate, +But rather one that smiles and still invites +All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason +Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! +Caphis, I say! + +Enter CAPHIS + +CAPHIS +Here, sir; what is your pleasure? + +Senator +Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon; +Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased +With slight denial, nor then silenced when-- +'Commend me to your master'--and the cap +Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him, +My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn +Out of mine own; his days and times are past +And my reliances on his fracted dates +Have smit my credit: I love and honour him, +But must not break my back to heal his finger; +Immediate are my needs, and my relief +Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words, +But find supply immediate. Get you gone: +Put on a most importunate aspect, +A visage of demand; for, I do fear, +When every feather sticks in his own wing, +Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, +Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone. + +CAPHIS +I go, sir. + +Senator +'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you, +And have the dates in contempt. + +CAPHIS +I will, sir. + +Senator +Go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand +FLAVIUS +No care, no stop! so senseless of expense, +That he will neither know how to maintain it, +Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account +How things go from him, nor resumes no care +Of what is to continue: never mind +Was to be so unwise, to be so kind. +What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel: +I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. +Fie, fie, fie, fie! + +Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro + +CAPHIS +Good even, Varro: what, +You come for money? +Varro's Servant Is't not your business too? + +CAPHIS +It is: and yours too, Isidore? +Isidore's Servant It is so. + +CAPHIS +Would we were all discharged! +Varro's Servant I fear it. + +CAPHIS +Here comes the lord. + +Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, & c + +TIMON +So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again, +My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will? + +CAPHIS +My lord, here is a note of certain dues. + +TIMON +Dues! Whence are you? + +CAPHIS +Of Athens here, my lord. + +TIMON +Go to my steward. + +CAPHIS +Please it your lordship, he hath put me off +To the succession of new days this month: +My master is awaked by great occasion +To call upon his own, and humbly prays you +That with your other noble parts you'll suit +In giving him his right. + +TIMON +Mine honest friend, +I prithee, but repair to me next morning. + +CAPHIS +Nay, good my lord,-- + +TIMON +Contain thyself, good friend. +Varro's Servant One Varro's servant, my good lord,-- +Isidore's Servant From Isidore; +He humbly prays your speedy payment. + +CAPHIS +If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-- +Varro's Servant 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past. +Isidore's Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord; +And I am sent expressly to your lordship. + +TIMON +Give me breath. +I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on; +I'll wait upon you instantly. + +Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords + +To FLAVIUS + +Come hither: pray you, +How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd +With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds, +And the detention of long-since-due debts, +Against my honour? + +FLAVIUS +Please you, gentlemen, +The time is unagreeable to this business: +Your importunacy cease till after dinner, +That I may make his lordship understand +Wherefore you are not paid. + +TIMON +Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd. + +Exit + +FLAVIUS +Pray, draw near. + +Exit + +Enter APEMANTUS and Fool + +CAPHIS +Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: +let's ha' some sport with 'em. +Varro's Servant Hang him, he'll abuse us. +Isidore's Servant A plague upon him, dog! +Varro's Servant How dost, fool? + +APEMANTUS +Dost dialogue with thy shadow? +Varro's Servant I speak not to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No,'tis to thyself. + +To the Fool + +Come away. +Isidore's Servant There's the fool hangs on your back already. + +APEMANTUS +No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet. + +CAPHIS +Where's the fool now? + +APEMANTUS +He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and +usurers' men! bawds between gold and want! + +All Servants +What are we, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Asses. + +All Servants +Why? + +APEMANTUS +That you ask me what you are, and do not know +yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool. + +Fool +How do you, gentlemen? + +All Servants +Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress? + +Fool +She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens +as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! + +APEMANTUS +Good! gramercy. + +Enter Page + +Fool +Look you, here comes my mistress' page. + +Page +[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you +in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer +thee profitably. + +Page +Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of +these letters: I know not which is which. + +APEMANTUS +Canst not read? + +Page +No. + +APEMANTUS +There will little learning die then, that day thou +art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to +Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't +die a bawd. + +Page +Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a +dog's death. Answer not; I am gone. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with +you to Lord Timon's. + +Fool +Will you leave me there? + +APEMANTUS +If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? + +All Servants +Ay; would they served us! + +APEMANTUS +So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief. + +Fool +Are you three usurers' men? + +All Servants +Ay, fool. + +Fool +I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my +mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come +to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and +go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house +merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? +Varro's Servant I could render one. + +APEMANTUS +Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster +and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be +no less esteemed. +Varro's Servant What is a whoremaster, fool? + +Fool +A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. +'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord; +sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, +with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is +very often like a knight; and, generally, in all +shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore +to thirteen, this spirit walks in. +Varro's Servant Thou art not altogether a fool. + +Fool +Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as +I have, so much wit thou lackest. + +APEMANTUS +That answer might have become Apemantus. + +All Servants +Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon. + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +APEMANTUS +Come with me, fool, come. + +Fool +I do not always follow lover, elder brother and +woman; sometime the philosopher. + +Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool + +FLAVIUS +Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon. + +Exeunt Servants + +TIMON +You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time +Had you not fully laid my state before me, +That I might so have rated my expense, +As I had leave of means? + +FLAVIUS +You would not hear me, +At many leisures I proposed. + +TIMON +Go to: +Perchance some single vantages you took. +When my indispos ition put you back: +And that unaptness made your minister, +Thus to excuse yourself. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, +At many times I brought in my accounts, +Laid them before you; you would throw them off, +And say, you found them in mine honesty. +When, for some trifling present, you have bid me +Return so much, I have shook my head and wept; +Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you +To hold your hand more close: I did endure +Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have +Prompted you in the ebb of your estate +And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, +Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time-- +The greatest of your having lacks a half +To pay your present debts. + +TIMON +Let all my land be sold. + +FLAVIUS +'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone; +And what remains will hardly stop the mouth +Of present dues: the future comes apace: +What shall defend the interim? and at length +How goes our reckoning? + +TIMON +To Lacedaemon did my land extend. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, the world is but a word: +Were it all yours to give it in a breath, +How quickly were it gone! + +TIMON +You tell me true. + +FLAVIUS +If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, +Call me before the exactest auditors +And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, +When all our offices have been oppress'd +With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept +With drunken spilth of wine, when every room +Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy, +I have retired me to a wasteful cock, +And set mine eyes at flow. + +TIMON +Prithee, no more. + +FLAVIUS +Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! +How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants +This night englutted! Who is not Timon's? +What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is +Lord Timon's? +Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! +Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, +The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: +Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, +These flies are couch'd. + +TIMON +Come, sermon me no further: +No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; +Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. +Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack, +To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart; +If I would broach the vessels of my love, +And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, +Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use +As I can bid thee speak. + +FLAVIUS +Assurance bless your thoughts! + +TIMON +And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd, +That I account them blessings; for by these +Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you +Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends. +Within there! Flaminius! Servilius! + +Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants + +Servants +My lord? my lord? + +TIMON +I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius; +to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour +to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their +loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have +found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let +the request be fifty talents. + +FLAMINIUS +As you have said, my lord. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum! + +TIMON +Go you, sir, to the senators-- +Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have +Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant +A thousand talents to me. + +FLAVIUS +I have been bold-- +For that I knew it the most general way-- +To them to use your signet and your name; +But they do shake their heads, and I am here +No richer in return. + +TIMON +Is't true? can't be? + +FLAVIUS +They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, +That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot +Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,-- +But yet they could have wish'd--they know not-- +Something hath been amiss--a noble nature +May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;-- +And so, intending other serious matters, +After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, +With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods +They froze me into silence. + +TIMON +You gods, reward them! +Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows +Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: +Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; +'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; +And nature, as it grows again toward earth, +Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. + +To a Servant + +Go to Ventidius. + +To FLAVIUS + +Prithee, be not sad, +Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak. +No blame belongs to thee. + +To Servant + +Ventidius lately +Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd +Into a great estate: when he was poor, +Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends, +I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me; +Bid him suppose some good necessity +Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd +With those five talents. + +Exit Servant + +To FLAVIUS + +That had, give't these fellows +To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think, +That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink. + +FLAVIUS +I would I could not think it: that thought is +bounty's foe; +Being free itself, it thinks all others so. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in Lucullus' house. + +FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him +Servant +I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you. + +FLAMINIUS +I thank you, sir. + +Enter LUCULLUS + +Servant +Here's my lord. + +LUCULLUS +[Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I +warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver +basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest +Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir. +Fill me some wine. + +Exit Servants + +And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted +gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord +and master? + +FLAMINIUS +His health is well sir. + +LUCULLUS +I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and +what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius? + +FLAMINIUS +'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my +lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to +supply; who, having great and instant occasion to +use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to +furnish him, nothing doubting your present +assistance therein. + +LUCULLUS +La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas, +good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not +keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' +dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to +supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less, +and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning +by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty +is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get +him from't. + +Re-enter Servant, with wine + +Servant +Please your lordship, here is the wine. + +LUCULLUS +Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee. + +FLAMINIUS +Your lordship speaks your pleasure. + +LUCULLUS +I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt +spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what +belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if +the time use thee well: good parts in thee. + +To Servant + +Get you gone, sirrah. + +Exit Servant + +Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a +bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou +knowest well enough, although thou comest to me, +that this is no time to lend money, especially upon +bare friendship, without security. Here's three +solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say +thou sawest me not. Fare thee well. + +FLAMINIUS +Is't possible the world should so much differ, +And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, +To him that worships thee! + +Throwing the money back + +LUCULLUS +Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master. + +Exit + +FLAMINIUS +May these add to the number that may scald thee! +Let moulten coin be thy damnation, +Thou disease of a friend, and not himself! +Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, +It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, +I feel master's passion! this slave, +Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him: +Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, +When he is turn'd to poison? +O, may diseases only work upon't! +And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature +Which my lord paid for, be of any power +To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! + +Exit + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers +LUCILIUS +Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and +an honourable gentleman. + +First Stranger +We know him for no less, though we are but strangers +to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and +which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's +happy hours are done and past, and his estate +shrinks from him. + +LUCILIUS +Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money. + +Second Stranger +But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago, +one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow +so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and +showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied. + +LUCILIUS +How! + +Second Stranger +I tell you, denied, my lord. + +LUCILIUS +What a strange case was that! now, before the gods, +I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man! +there was very little honour showed in't. For my own +part, I must needs confess, I have received some +small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels +and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his; +yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should +ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +SERVILIUS +See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; +I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,-- + +To LUCIUS + +LUCILIUS +Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: +commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very +exquisite friend. + +SERVILIUS +May it please your honour, my lord hath sent-- + +LUCILIUS +Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to +that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank +him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now? + +SERVILIUS +Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; +requesting your lordship to supply his instant use +with so many talents. + +LUCILIUS +I know his lordship is but merry with me; +He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. + +SERVILIUS +But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. +If his occasion were not virtuous, +I should not urge it half so faithfully. + +LUCILIUS +Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? + +SERVILIUS +Upon my soul,'tis true, sir. + +LUCILIUS +What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself +against such a good time, when I might ha' shown +myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I +should purchase the day before for a little part, +and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now, +before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more +beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon +myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would +not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now. +Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I +hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me, +because I have no power to be kind: and tell him +this from me, I count it one of my greatest +afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an +honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you +befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him? + +SERVILIUS +Yes, sir, I shall. + +LUCILIUS +I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. + +Exit SERVILIUS + +True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed; +And he that's once denied will hardly speed. + +Exit + +First Stranger +Do you observe this, Hostilius? + +Second Stranger +Ay, too well. + +First Stranger +Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the +same piece +Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him +His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in +My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father, +And kept his credit with his purse, +Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money +Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks, +But Timon's silver treads upon his lip; +And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man +When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-- +He does deny him, in respect of his, +What charitable men afford to beggars. + +Third Stranger +Religion groans at it. + +First Stranger +For mine own part, +I never tasted Timon in my life, +Nor came any of his bounties over me, +To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest, +For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue +And honourable carriage, +Had his necessity made use of me, +I would have put my wealth into donation, +And the best half should have return'd to him, +So much I love his heart: but, I perceive, +Men must learn now with pity to dispense; +For policy sits above conscience. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Sempronius' house. + +Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's +SEMPRONIUS +Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove +all others? +He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; +And now Ventidius is wealthy too, +Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these +Owe their estates unto him. + +Servant +My lord, +They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for +They have au denied him. + +SEMPRONIUS +How! have they denied him? +Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him? +And does he send to me? Three? hum! +It shows but little love or judgment in him: +Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like +physicians, +Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me? +Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him, +That might have known my place: I see no sense for't, +But his occasion might have woo'd me first; +For, in my conscience, I was the first man +That e'er received gift from him: +And does he think so backwardly of me now, +That I'll requite its last? No: +So it may prove an argument of laughter +To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool. +I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum, +Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake; +I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return, +And with their faint reply this answer join; +Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. + +Exit + +Servant +Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The +devil knew not what he did when he made man +politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot +think but, in the end, the villainies of man will +set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to +appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked, +like those that under hot ardent zeal would set +whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his +politic love. +This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, +Save only the gods: now his friends are dead, +Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards +Many a bounteous year must be employ'd +Now to guard sure their master. +And this is all a liberal course allows; +Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out +Varro's + +First Servant +Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. + +TITUS +The like to you kind Varro. + +HORTENSIUS +Lucius! +What, do we meet together? +Lucilius' Servant Ay, and I think +One business does command us all; for mine Is money. + +TITUS +So is theirs and ours. + +Enter PHILOTUS + +Lucilius' Servant And Sir Philotus too! + +PHILOTUS +Good day at once. +Lucilius' Servant Welcome, good brother. +What do you think the hour? + +PHILOTUS +Labouring for nine. +Lucilius' Servant So much? + +PHILOTUS +Is not my lord seen yet? +Lucilius' Servant Not yet. + +PHILOTUS +I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him: +You must consider that a prodigal course +Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable. +I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse; +That is one may reach deep enough, and yet +Find little. + +PHILOTUS +I am of your fear for that. + +TITUS +I'll show you how to observe a strange event. +Your lord sends now for money. + +HORTENSIUS +Most true, he does. + +TITUS +And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, +For which I wait for money. + +HORTENSIUS +It is against my heart. +Lucilius' Servant Mark, how strange it shows, +Timon in this should pay more than he owes: +And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels, +And send for money for 'em. + +HORTENSIUS +I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness: +I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, +And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. +Varro's + +First Servant +Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand mine. +Varro's + +First Servant +'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun, +Your master's confidence was above mine; +Else, surely, his had equall'd. +Enter FLAMINIUS. + +TITUS +One of Lord Timon's men. +Lucilius' Servant Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to +come forth? + +FLAMINIUS +No, indeed, he is not. + +TITUS +We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. + +FLAMINIUS +I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent. + +Exit + +Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled + +Lucilius' Servant Ha! is not that his steward muffled so? +He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him. + +TITUS +Do you hear, sir? +Varro's + +Second Servant +By your leave, sir,-- + +FLAVIUS +What do ye ask of me, my friend? + +TITUS +We wait for certain money here, sir. + +FLAVIUS +Ay, +If money were as certain as your waiting, +'Twere sure enough. +Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills, +When your false masters eat of my lord's meat? +Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts +And take down the interest into their +gluttonous maws. +You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up; +Let me pass quietly: +Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end; +I have no more to reckon, he to spend. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but this answer will not serve. + +FLAVIUS +If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you; +For you serve knaves. + +Exit + +Varro's + +First Servant +How! what does his cashiered worship mutter? +Varro's + +Second Servant +No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge +enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no +house to put his head in? such may rail against +great buildings. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +TITUS +O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer. + +SERVILIUS +If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some +other hour, I should derive much from't; for, +take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to +discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him; +he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber. +Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick: +And, if it be so far beyond his health, +Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts, +And make a clear way to the gods. + +SERVILIUS +Good gods! + +TITUS +We cannot take this for answer, sir. + +FLAMINIUS +[Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! + +Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following + +TIMON +What, are my doors opposed against my passage? +Have I been ever free, and must my house +Be my retentive enemy, my gaol? +The place which I have feasted, does it now, +Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? +Lucilius' Servant Put in now, Titus. + +TITUS +My lord, here is my bill. +Lucilius' Servant Here's mine. + +HORTENSIUS +And mine, my lord. +Both +Varro's Servants And ours, my lord. + +PHILOTUS +All our bills. + +TIMON +Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle. +Lucilius' Servant Alas, my lord,- + +TIMON +Cut my heart in sums. + +TITUS +Mine, fifty talents. + +TIMON +Tell out my blood. +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand crowns, my lord. + +TIMON +Five thousand drops pays that. +What yours?--and yours? +Varro's + +First Servant +My lord,-- +Varro's + +Second Servant +My lord,-- + +TIMON +Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! + +Exit + +HORTENSIUS +'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps +at their money: these debts may well be called +desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. + +Exeunt + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +TIMON +They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. +Creditors? devils! + +FLAVIUS +My dear lord,-- + +TIMON +What if it should be so? + +FLAVIUS +My lord,-- + +TIMON +I'll have it so. My steward! + +FLAVIUS +Here, my lord. + +TIMON +So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, +Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: +All, sirrah, all: +I'll once more feast the rascals. + +FLAVIUS +O my lord, +You only speak from your distracted soul; +There is not so much left, to furnish out +A moderate table. + +TIMON +Be't not in thy care; go, +I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide +Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting. +First Senator +My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's +Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die: +Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. + +Second Senator +Most true; the law shall bruise him. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants + +ALCIBIADES +Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! + +First Senator +Now, captain? + +ALCIBIADES +I am an humble suitor to your virtues; +For pity is the virtue of the law, +And none but tyrants use it cruelly. +It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy +Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, +Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth +To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't. +He is a man, setting his fate aside, +Of comely virtues: +Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-- +An honour in him which buys out his fault-- +But with a noble fury and fair spirit, +Seeing his reputation touch'd to death, +He did oppose his foe: +And with such sober and unnoted passion +He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, +As if he had but proved an argument. + +First Senator +You undergo too strict a paradox, +Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: +Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd +To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling +Upon the head of valour; which indeed +Is valour misbegot and came into the world +When sects and factions were newly born: +He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer +The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs +His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, +carelessly, +And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, +To bring it into danger. +If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, +What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill! + +ALCIBIADES +My lord,-- + +First Senator +You cannot make gross sins look clear: +To revenge is no valour, but to bear. + +ALCIBIADES +My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, +If I speak like a captain. +Why do fond men expose themselves to battle, +And not endure all threats? sleep upon't, +And let the foes quietly cut their throats, +Without repugnancy? If there be +Such valour in the bearing, what make we +Abroad? why then, women are more valiant +That stay at home, if bearing carry it, +And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon +Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, +If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, +As you are great, be pitifully good: +Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? +To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust; +But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just. +To be in anger is impiety; +But who is man that is not angry? +Weigh but the crime with this. + +Second Senator +You breathe in vain. + +ALCIBIADES +In vain! his service done +At Lacedaemon and Byzantium +Were a sufficient briber for his life. + +First Senator +What's that? + +ALCIBIADES +I say, my lords, he has done fair service, +And slain in fight many of your enemies: +How full of valour did he bear himself +In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! + +Second Senator +He has made too much plenty with 'em; +He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often +Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner: +If there were no foes, that were enough +To overcome him: in that beastly fury +He has been known to commit outrages, +And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us, +His days are foul and his drink dangerous. + +First Senator +He dies. + +ALCIBIADES +Hard fate! he might have died in war. +My lords, if not for any parts in him-- +Though his right arm might purchase his own time +And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you, +Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both: +And, for I know your reverend ages love +Security, I'll pawn my victories, all +My honours to you, upon his good returns. +If by this crime he owes the law his life, +Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore +For law is strict, and war is nothing more. + +First Senator +We are for law: he dies; urge it no more, +On height of our displeasure: friend or brother, +He forfeits his own blood that spills another. + +ALCIBIADES +Must it be so? it must not be. My lords, +I do beseech you, know me. + +Second Senator +How! + +ALCIBIADES +Call me to your remembrances. + +Third Senator +What! + +ALCIBIADES +I cannot think but your age has forgot me; +It could not else be, I should prove so base, +To sue, and be denied such common grace: +My wounds ache at you. + +First Senator +Do you dare our anger? +'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect; +We banish thee for ever. + +ALCIBIADES +Banish me! +Banish your dotage; banish usury, +That makes the senate ugly. + +First Senator +If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee, +Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell +our spirit, +He shall be executed presently. + +Exeunt Senators + +ALCIBIADES +Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live +Only in bone, that none may look on you! +I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes, +While they have told their money and let out +Their coin upon large interest, I myself +Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? +Is this the balsam that the usuring senate +Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment! +It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd; +It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, +That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up +My discontented troops, and lay for hearts. +'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds; +Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. + +Exit + +SCENE VI. The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Music. Tables set out: Servants attending. Enter divers Lords, Senators and others, at several doors +First Lord +The good time of day to you, sir. + +Second Lord +I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord +did but try us this other day. + +First Lord +Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we +encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as +he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. + +Second Lord +It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. + +First Lord +I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest +inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me +to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and +I must needs appear. + +Second Lord +In like manner was I in debt to my importunate +business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am +sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my +provision was out. + +First Lord +I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all +things go. + +Second Lord +Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of +you? + +First Lord +A thousand pieces. + +Second Lord +A thousand pieces! + +First Lord +What of you? + +Second Lord +He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes. + +Enter TIMON and Attendants + +TIMON +With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you? + +First Lord +Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship. + +Second Lord +The swallow follows not summer more willing than we +your lordship. + +TIMON +[Aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter; such +summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not +recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the +music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the +trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently. + +First Lord +I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship +that I returned you an empty messenger. + +TIMON +O, sir, let it not trouble you. + +Second Lord +My noble lord,-- + +TIMON +Ah, my good friend, what cheer? + +Second Lord +My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame, +that, when your lordship this other day sent to me, +I was so unfortunate a beggar. + +TIMON +Think not on 't, sir. + +Second Lord +If you had sent but two hours before,-- + +TIMON +Let it not cumber your better remembrance. + +The banquet brought in + +Come, bring in all together. + +Second Lord +All covered dishes! + +First Lord +Royal cheer, I warrant you. + +Third Lord +Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield +it. + +First Lord +How do you? What's the news? + +Third Lord +Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it? + +First Lord Second Lord +Alcibiades banished! + +Third Lord +'Tis so, be sure of it. + +First Lord +How! how! + +Second Lord +I pray you, upon what? + +TIMON +My worthy friends, will you draw near? + +Third Lord +I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward. + +Second Lord +This is the old man still. + +Third Lord +Will 't hold? will 't hold? + +Second Lord +It does: but time will--and so-- + +Third Lord +I do conceive. + +TIMON +Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to +the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all +places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let +the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place: +sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. +You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with +thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves +praised: but reserve still to give, lest your +deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that +one need not lend to another; for, were your +godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the +gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man +that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without +a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at +the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The +rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens, +together with the common lag of people--what is +amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for +destruction. For these my present friends, as they +are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to +nothing are they welcome. +Uncover, dogs, and lap. + +The dishes are uncovered and seen to be full of warm water + +Some Speak +What does his lordship mean? + +Some Others +I know not. + +TIMON +May you a better feast never behold, +You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water +Is your perfection. This is Timon's last; +Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, +Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces +Your reeking villany. + +Throwing the water in their faces + +Live loathed and long, +Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, +Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, +You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies, +Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! +Of man and beast the infinite malady +Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go? +Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;-- +Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. + +Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out + +What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast, +Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. +Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be +Of Timon man and all humanity! + +Exit + +Re-enter the Lords, Senators, & c + +First Lord +How now, my lords! + +Second Lord +Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury? + +Third Lord +Push! did you see my cap? + +Fourth Lord +I have lost my gown. + +First Lord +He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. +He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has +beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel? + +Third Lord +Did you see my cap? + +Second Lord +Here 'tis. + +Fourth Lord +Here lies my gown. + +First Lord +Let's make no stay. + +Second Lord +Lord Timon's mad. + +Third Lord +I feel 't upon my bones. + +Fourth Lord +One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens. + +Enter TIMON +TIMON +Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, +That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, +And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! +Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, +Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, +And minister in their steads! to general filths +Convert o' the instant, green virginity, +Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; +Rather than render back, out with your knives, +And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! +Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, +And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; +Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, +pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, +With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, +Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, +Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, +Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, +Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, +Decline to your confounding contraries, +And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, +Your potent and infectious fevers heap +On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, +Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt +As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty +Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, +That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, +And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, +Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop +Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, +at their society, as their friendship, may +merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, +But nakedness, thou detestable town! +Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! +Timon will to the woods; where he shall find +The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. +The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all-- +The Athenians both within and out that wall! +And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow +To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants +First Servant +Hear you, master steward, where's our master? +Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining? + +FLAVIUS +Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? +Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, +I am as poor as you. + +First Servant +Such a house broke! +So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not +One friend to take his fortune by the arm, +And go along with him! + +Second Servant +As we do turn our backs +From our companion thrown into his grave, +So his familiars to his buried fortunes +Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, +Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self, +A dedicated beggar to the air, +With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, +Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows. + +Enter other Servants + +FLAVIUS +All broken implements of a ruin'd house. + +Third Servant +Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery; +That see I by our faces; we are fellows still, +Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark, +And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, +Hearing the surges threat: we must all part +Into this sea of air. + +FLAVIUS +Good fellows all, +The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. +Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake, +Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say, +As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes, +'We have seen better days.' Let each take some; +Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: +Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. + +Servants embrace, and part several ways + +O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! +Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, +Since riches point to misery and contempt? +Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live +But in a dream of friendship? +To have his pomp and all what state compounds +But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? +Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, +Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood, +When man's worst sin is, he does too much good! +Who, then, dares to be half so kind again? +For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. +My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed, +Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes +Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! +He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat +Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to +Supply his life, or that which can command it. +I'll follow and inquire him out: +I'll ever serve his mind with my best will; +Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore. + +Enter TIMON, from the cave +O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth +Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb +Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb, +Whose procreation, residence, and birth, +Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes; +The greater scorns the lesser: not nature, +To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, +But by contempt of nature. +Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; +The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, +The beggar native honour. +It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, +The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, +In purity of manhood stand upright, +And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be, +So are they all; for every grise of fortune +Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate +Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique; +There's nothing level in our cursed natures, +But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd +All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! +His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: +Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! + +Digging + +Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate +With thy most operant poison! What is here? +Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, +I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! +Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, +Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. +Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this +Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, +Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: +This yellow slave +Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed, +Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves +And give them title, knee and approbation +With senators on the bench: this is it +That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; +She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores +Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices +To the April day again. Come, damned earth, +Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds +Among the route of nations, I will make thee +Do thy right nature. + +March afar off + +Ha! a drum ? Thou'rt quick, +But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, +When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. +Nay, stay thou out for earnest. + +Keeping some gold + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA + +ALCIBIADES +What art thou there? speak. + +TIMON +A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, +For showing me again the eyes of man! + +ALCIBIADES +What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, +That art thyself a man? + +TIMON +I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. +For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, +That I might love thee something. + +ALCIBIADES +I know thee well; +But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. + +TIMON +I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, +I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; +With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules: +Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; +Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine +Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, +For all her cherubim look. + +PHRYNIA +Thy lips rot off! + +TIMON +I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns +To thine own lips again. + +ALCIBIADES +How came the noble Timon to this change? + +TIMON +As the moon does, by wanting light to give: +But then renew I could not, like the moon; +There were no suns to borrow of. + +ALCIBIADES +Noble Timon, +What friendship may I do thee? + +TIMON +None, but to +Maintain my opinion. + +ALCIBIADES +What is it, Timon? + +TIMON +Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou +wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art +a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for +thou art a man! + +ALCIBIADES +I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. + +TIMON +Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. + +ALCIBIADES +I see them now; then was a blessed time. + +TIMON +As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. + +TIMANDRA +Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world +Voiced so regardfully? + +TIMON +Art thou Timandra? + +TIMANDRA +Yes. + +TIMON +Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; +Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. +Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves +For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth +To the tub-fast and the diet. + +TIMANDRA +Hang thee, monster! + +ALCIBIADES +Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits +Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. +I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, +The want whereof doth daily make revolt +In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved, +How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, +Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, +But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-- + +TIMON +I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. + +ALCIBIADES +I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. + +TIMON +How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? +I had rather be alone. + +ALCIBIADES +Why, fare thee well: +Here is some gold for thee. + +TIMON +Keep it, I cannot eat it. + +ALCIBIADES +When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-- + +TIMON +Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, Timon, and have cause. + +TIMON +The gods confound them all in thy conquest; +And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! + +ALCIBIADES +Why me, Timon? + +TIMON +That, by killing of villains, +Thou wast born to conquer my country. +Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; +Be as a planetary plague, when Jove +Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison +In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: +Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; +He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; +It is her habit only that is honest, +Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek +Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, +That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, +Are not within the leaf of pity writ, +But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, +Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; +Think it a bastard, whom the oracle +Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, +And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; +Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; +Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, +Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, +Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: +Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, +Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. + +ALCIBIADES +Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou +givest me, +Not all thy counsel. + +TIMON +Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse +upon thee! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? + +TIMON +Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, +And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, +Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable, +Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear +Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues +The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths, +I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still; +And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, +Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; +Let your close fire predominate his smoke, +And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months, +Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs +With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, +No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still; +Paint till a horse may mire upon your face, +A pox of wrinkles! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Well, more gold: what then? +Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. + +TIMON +Consumptions sow +In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, +And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, +That he may never more false title plead, +Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, +That scolds against the quality of flesh, +And not believes himself: down with the nose, +Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away +Of him that, his particular to foresee, +Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate +ruffians bald; +And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war +Derive some pain from you: plague all; +That your activity may defeat and quell +The source of all erection. There's more gold: +Do you damn others, and let this damn you, +And ditches grave you all! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. + +TIMON +More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. + +ALCIBIADES +Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: +If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. + +TIMON +If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. + +ALCIBIADES +I never did thee harm. + +TIMON +Yes, thou spokest well of me. + +ALCIBIADES +Call'st thou that harm? + +TIMON +Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take +Thy beagles with thee. + +ALCIBIADES +We but offend him. Strike! + +Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA + +TIMON +That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, +Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, + +Digging + +Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, +Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, +Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd, +Engenders the black toad and adder blue, +The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm, +With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven +Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; +Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, +From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! +Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, +Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! +Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; +Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face +Hath to the marbled mansion all above +Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!-- +Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; +Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts +And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, +That from it all consideration slips! + +Enter APEMANTUS + +More man? plague, plague! + +APEMANTUS +I was directed hither: men report +Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. + +TIMON +'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, +Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee! + +APEMANTUS +This is in thee a nature but infected; +A poor unmanly melancholy sprung +From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place? +This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? +Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; +Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot +That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, +By putting on the cunning of a carper. +Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive +By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, +And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, +Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, +And call it excellent: thou wast told thus; +Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome +To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just +That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, +Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. + +TIMON +Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself. + +APEMANTUS +Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; +A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st +That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, +Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees, +That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, +And skip where thou point'st out? will the +cold brook, +Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, +To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures +Whose naked natures live in an the spite +Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, +To the conflicting elements exposed, +Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; +O, thou shalt find-- + +TIMON +A fool of thee: depart. + +APEMANTUS +I love thee better now than e'er I did. + +TIMON +I hate thee worse. + +APEMANTUS +Why? + +TIMON +Thou flatter'st misery. + +APEMANTUS +I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff. + +TIMON +Why dost thou seek me out? + +APEMANTUS +To vex thee. + +TIMON +Always a villain's office or a fool's. +Dost please thyself in't? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +What! a knave too? + +APEMANTUS +If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on +To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou +Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, +Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery +Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before: +The one is filling still, never complete; +The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, +Hath a distracted and most wretched being, +Worse than the worst, content. +Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. + +TIMON +Not by his breath that is more miserable. +Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm +With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog. +Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded +The sweet degrees that this brief world affords +To such as may the passive drugs of it +Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself +In general riot; melted down thy youth +In different beds of lust; and never learn'd +The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd +The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, +Who had the world as my confectionary, +The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men +At duty, more than I could frame employment, +That numberless upon me stuck as leaves +Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush +Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare +For every storm that blows: I, to bear this, +That never knew but better, is some burden: +Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time +Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? +They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? +If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, +Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff +To some she beggar and compounded thee +Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone! +If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, +Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. + +APEMANTUS +Art thou proud yet? + +TIMON +Ay, that I am not thee. + +APEMANTUS +I, that I was +No prodigal. + +TIMON +I, that I am one now: +Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, +I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. +That the whole life of Athens were in this! +Thus would I eat it. + +Eating a root + +APEMANTUS +Here; I will mend thy feast. + +Offering him a root + +TIMON +First mend my company, take away thyself. + +APEMANTUS +So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. + +TIMON +'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; +if not, I would it were. + +APEMANTUS +What wouldst thou have to Athens? + +TIMON +Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, +Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. + +APEMANTUS +Here is no use for gold. + +TIMON +The best and truest; +For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. + +APEMANTUS +Where liest o' nights, Timon? + +TIMON +Under that's above me. +Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat +it. + +TIMON +Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! + +APEMANTUS +Where wouldst thou send it? + +TIMON +To sauce thy dishes. + +APEMANTUS +The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the +extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt +and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much +curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art +despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for +thee, eat it. + +TIMON +On what I hate I feed not. + +APEMANTUS +Dost hate a medlar? + +TIMON +Ay, though it look like thee. + +APEMANTUS +An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst +have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou +ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? + +TIMON +Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou +ever know beloved? + +APEMANTUS +Myself. + +TIMON +I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a +dog. + +APEMANTUS +What things in the world canst thou nearest compare +to thy flatterers? + +TIMON +Women nearest; but men, men are the things +themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, +Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? + +APEMANTUS +Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. + +TIMON +Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of +men, and remain a beast with the beasts? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, Timon. + +TIMON +A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' +attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would +beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would +eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would +suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by +the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would +torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a +breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy +greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst +hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the +unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and +make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert +thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse: +wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the +leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to +the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on +thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy +defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that +were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art +thou already, that seest not thy loss in +transformation! + +APEMANTUS +If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou +mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of +Athens is become a forest of beasts. + +TIMON +How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? + +APEMANTUS +Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of +company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it +and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll +see thee again. + +TIMON +When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be +welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. + +TIMON +Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! + +APEMANTUS +A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse. + +TIMON +All villains that do stand by thee are pure. + +APEMANTUS +There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. + +TIMON +If I name thee. +I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. + +APEMANTUS +I would my tongue could rot them off! + +TIMON +Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! +Choler does kill me that thou art alive; +I swound to see thee. + +APEMANTUS +Would thou wouldst burst! + +TIMON +Away, +Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose +A stone by thee. + +Throws a stone at him + +APEMANTUS +Beast! + +TIMON +Slave! + +APEMANTUS +Toad! + +TIMON +Rogue, rogue, rogue! +I am sick of this false world, and will love nought +But even the mere necessities upon 't. +Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; +Lie where the light foam the sea may beat +Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, +That death in me at others' lives may laugh. + +To the gold + +O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce +'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler +Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! +Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, +Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow +That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, +That solder'st close impossibilities, +And makest them kiss! that speak'st with +every tongue, +To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! +Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue +Set them into confounding odds, that beasts +May have the world in empire! + +APEMANTUS +Would 'twere so! +But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold: +Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. + +TIMON +Throng'd to! + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Thy back, I prithee. + +APEMANTUS +Live, and love thy misery. + +TIMON +Long live so, and so die. + +Exit APEMANTUS + +I am quit. +Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. + +Enter Banditti + +First Bandit +Where should he have this gold? It is some poor +fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the +mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his +friends, drove him into this melancholy. + +Second Bandit +It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. + +Third Bandit +Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not +for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously +reserve it, how shall's get it? + +Second Bandit +True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. + +First Bandit +Is not this he? + +Banditti +Where? + +Second Bandit +'Tis his description. + +Third Bandit +He; I know him. + +Banditti +Save thee, Timon. + +TIMON +Now, thieves? + +Banditti +Soldiers, not thieves. + +TIMON +Both too; and women's sons. + +Banditti +We are not thieves, but men that much do want. + +TIMON +Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. +Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; +Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; +The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; +The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush +Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? + +First Bandit +We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, +As beasts and birds and fishes. + +TIMON +Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; +You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con +That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not +In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft +In limited professions. Rascal thieves, +Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, +Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, +And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; +His antidotes are poison, and he slays +Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; +Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, +Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. +The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction +Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, +And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: +The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves +The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, +That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen +From general excrement: each thing's a thief: +The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power +Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, +Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: +All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, +Break open shops; nothing can you steal, +But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this +I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. + +Third Bandit +Has almost charmed me from my profession, by +persuading me to it. + +First Bandit +'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises +us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. + +Second Bandit +I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. + +First Bandit +Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time +so miserable but a man may be true. + +Exeunt Banditti + +Enter FLAVIUS + +FLAVIUS +O you gods! +Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? +Full of decay and failing? O monument +And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! +What an alteration of honour +Has desperate want made! +What viler thing upon the earth than friends +Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! +How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, +When man was wish'd to love his enemies! +Grant I may ever love, and rather woo +Those that would mischief me than those that do! +Has caught me in his eye: I will present +My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, +Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! + +TIMON +Away! what art thou? + +FLAVIUS +Have you forgot me, sir? + +TIMON +Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; +Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. + +FLAVIUS +An honest poor servant of yours. + +TIMON +Then I know thee not: +I never had honest man about me, I; all +I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. + +FLAVIUS +The gods are witness, +Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief +For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. + +TIMON +What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I +love thee, +Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st +Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give +But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: +Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! + +FLAVIUS +I beg of you to know me, good my lord, +To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts +To entertain me as your steward still. + +TIMON +Had I a steward +So true, so just, and now so comfortable? +It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. +Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man +Was born of woman. +Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, +You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim +One honest man--mistake me not--but one; +No more, I pray,--and he's a steward. +How fain would I have hated all mankind! +And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, +I fell with curses. +Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; +For, by oppressing and betraying me, +Thou mightst have sooner got another service: +For many so arrive at second masters, +Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- +For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- +Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, +If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, +Expecting in return twenty for one? + +FLAVIUS +No, my most worthy master; in whose breast +Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: +You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: +Suspect still comes where an estate is least. +That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, +Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, +Care of your food and living; and, believe it, +My most honour'd lord, +For any benefit that points to me, +Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange +For this one wish, that you had power and wealth +To requite me, by making rich yourself. + +TIMON +Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, +Here, take: the gods out of my misery +Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; +But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; +Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, +But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, +Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs +What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, +Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like +blasted woods, +And may diseases lick up their false bloods! +And so farewell and thrive. + +FLAVIUS +O, let me stay, +And comfort you, my master. + +TIMON +If thou hatest curses, +Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free: +Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. + +Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave. + +Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave +Painter +As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where +he abides. + +Poet +What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold +for true, that he's so full of gold? + +Painter +Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and +Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor +straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said +he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. + +Poet +Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. + +Painter +Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens +again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore +'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this +supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in +us; and is very likely to load our purposes with +what they travail for, if it be a just true report +that goes of his having. + +Poet +What have you now to present unto him? + +Painter +Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will +promise him an excellent piece. + +Poet +I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent +that's coming toward him. + +Painter +Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the +time: it opens the eyes of expectation: +performance is ever the duller for his act; and, +but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the +deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is +most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind +of will or testament which argues a great sickness +in his judgment that makes it. + +TIMON comes from his cave, behind + +TIMON +[Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a +man so bad as is thyself. + +Poet +I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for +him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire +against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery +of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency. + +TIMON +[Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in +thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in +other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. + +Poet +Nay, let's seek him: +Then do we sin against our own estate, +When we may profit meet, and come too late. + +Painter +True; +When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, +Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. + +TIMON +[Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a +god's gold, +That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple +Than where swine feed! +'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam, +Settlest admired reverence in a slave: +To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye +Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey! +Fit I meet them. + +Coming forward + +Poet +Hail, worthy Timon! + +Painter +Our late noble master! + +TIMON +Have I once lived to see two honest men? + +Poet +Sir, +Having often of your open bounty tasted, +Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off, +Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!-- +Not all the whips of heaven are large enough: +What! to you, +Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence +To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover +The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude +With any size of words. + +TIMON +Let it go naked, men may see't the better: +You that are honest, by being what you are, +Make them best seen and known. + +Painter +He and myself +Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts, +And sweetly felt it. + +TIMON +Ay, you are honest men. + +Painter +We are hither come to offer you our service. + +TIMON +Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? +Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. + +Both +What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. + +TIMON +Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold; +I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. + +Painter +So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore +Came not my friend nor I. + +TIMON +Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit +Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best; +Thou counterfeit'st most lively. + +Painter +So, so, my lord. + +TIMON +E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction, +Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth +That thou art even natural in thine art. +But, for all this, my honest-natured friends, +I must needs say you have a little fault: +Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I +You take much pains to mend. + +Both +Beseech your honour +To make it known to us. + +TIMON +You'll take it ill. + +Both +Most thankfully, my lord. + +TIMON +Will you, indeed? + +Both +Doubt it not, worthy lord. + +TIMON +There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, +That mightily deceives you. + +Both +Do we, my lord? + +TIMON +Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, +Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, +Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured +That he's a made-up villain. + +Painter +I know none such, my lord. + +Poet +Nor I. + +TIMON +Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, +Rid me these villains from your companies: +Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught, +Confound them by some course, and come to me, +I'll give you gold enough. + +Both +Name them, my lord, let's know them. + +TIMON +You that way and you this, but two in company; +Each man apart, all single and alone, +Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. +If where thou art two villains shall not be, +Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside +But where one villain is, then him abandon. +Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves: + +To Painter + +You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence! + +To Poet + +You are an alchemist; make gold of that. +Out, rascal dogs! + +Beats them out, and then retires to his cave + +Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators + +FLAVIUS +It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; +For he is set so only to himself +That nothing but himself which looks like man +Is friendly with him. + +First Senator +Bring us to his cave: +It is our part and promise to the Athenians +To speak with Timon. + +Second Senator +At all times alike +Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs +That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand, +Offering the fortunes of his former days, +The former man may make him. Bring us to him, +And chance it as it may. + +FLAVIUS +Here is his cave. +Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! +Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, +By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: +Speak to them, noble Timon. + +TIMON comes from his cave + +TIMON +Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and +be hang'd: +For each true word, a blister! and each false +Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue, +Consuming it with speaking! + +First Senator +Worthy Timon,-- + +TIMON +Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. + +First Senator +The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. + +TIMON +I thank them; and would send them back the plague, +Could I but catch it for them. + +First Senator +O, forget +What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. +The senators with one consent of love +Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought +On special dignities, which vacant lie +For thy best use and wearing. + +Second Senator +They confess +Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross: +Which now the public body, which doth seldom +Play the recanter, feeling in itself +A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal +Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon; +And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render, +Together with a recompense more fruitful +Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; +Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth +As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs +And write in thee the figures of their love, +Ever to read them thine. + +TIMON +You witch me in it; +Surprise me to the very brink of tears: +Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, +And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. + +First Senator +Therefore, so please thee to return with us +And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take +The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, +Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name +Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back +Of Alcibiades the approaches wild, +Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up +His country's peace. + +Second Senator +And shakes his threatening sword +Against the walls of Athens. + +First Senator +Therefore, Timon,-- + +TIMON +Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: +If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, +Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, +That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens, +And take our goodly aged men by the beards, +Giving our holy virgins to the stain +Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war, +Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it, +In pity of our aged and our youth, +I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, +And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, +While you have throats to answer: for myself, +There's not a whittle in the unruly camp +But I do prize it at my love before +The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you +To the protection of the prosperous gods, +As thieves to keepers. + +FLAVIUS +Stay not, all's in vain. + +TIMON +Why, I was writing of my epitaph; +it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness +Of health and living now begins to mend, +And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; +Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, +And last so long enough! + +First Senator +We speak in vain. + +TIMON +But yet I love my country, and am not +One that rejoices in the common wreck, +As common bruit doth put it. + +First Senator +That's well spoke. + +TIMON +Commend me to my loving countrymen,-- + +First Senator +These words become your lips as they pass +thorough them. + +Second Senator +And enter in our ears like great triumphers +In their applauding gates. + +TIMON +Commend me to them, +And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, +Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, +Their pangs of love, with other incident throes +That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain +In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: +I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. + +First Senator +I like this well; he will return again. + +TIMON +I have a tree, which grows here in my close, +That mine own use invites me to cut down, +And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends, +Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree +From high to low throughout, that whoso please +To stop affliction, let him take his haste, +Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, +And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. + +FLAVIUS +Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him. + +TIMON +Come not to me again: but say to Athens, +Timon hath made his everlasting mansion +Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; +Who once a day with his embossed froth +The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, +And let my grave-stone be your oracle. +Lips, let sour words go by and language end: +What is amiss plague and infection mend! +Graves only be men's works and death their gain! +Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. + +Retires to his cave + +First Senator +His discontents are unremoveably +Coupled to nature. + +Second Senator +Our hope in him is dead: let us return, +And strain what other means is left unto us +In our dear peril. + +First Senator +It requires swift foot. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. + +Enter two Senators and a Messenger +First Senator +Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files +As full as thy report? + +Messenger +have spoke the least: +Besides, his expedition promises +Present approach. + +Second Senator +We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. + +Messenger +I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; +Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force, +And made us speak like friends: this man was riding +From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, +With letters of entreaty, which imported +His fellowship i' the cause against your city, +In part for his sake moved. + +First Senator +Here come our brothers. + +Enter the Senators from TIMON + +Third Senator +No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. +The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring +Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: +Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen. + +Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON +Soldier +By all description this should be the place. +Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this? +Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: +Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. +Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb +I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: +Our captain hath in every figure skill, +An aged interpreter, though young in days: +Before proud Athens he's set down by this, +Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens. + +Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers +ALCIBIADES +Sound to this coward and lascivious town +Our terrible approach. + +A parley sounded + +Enter Senators on the walls + +Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time +With all licentious measure, making your wills +The scope of justice; till now myself and such +As slept within the shadow of your power +Hav e wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed +Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush, +When crouching marrow in the bearer strong +Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong +Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, +And pursy insolence shall break his wind +With fear and horrid flight. + +First Senator +Noble and young, +When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, +Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, +We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm, +To wipe out our ingratitude with loves +Above their quantity. + +Second Senator +So did we woo +Transformed Timon to our city's love +By humble message and by promised means: +We were not all unkind, nor all deserve +The common stroke of war. + +First Senator +These walls of ours +Were not erected by their hands from whom +You have received your griefs; nor are they such +That these great towers, trophies and schools +should fall +For private faults in them. + +Second Senator +Nor are they living +Who were the motives that you first went out; +Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess +Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, +Into our city with thy banners spread: +By decimation, and a tithed death-- +If thy revenges hunger for that food +Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth, +And by the hazard of the spotted die +Let die the spotted. + +First Senator +All have not offended; +For those that were, it is not square to take +On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, +Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, +Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage: +Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin +Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall +With those that have offended: like a shepherd, +Approach the fold and cull the infected forth, +But kill not all together. + +Second Senator +What thou wilt, +Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile +Than hew to't with thy sword. + +First Senator +Set but thy foot +Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope; +So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, +To say thou'lt enter friendly. + +Second Senator +Throw thy glove, +Or any token of thine honour else, +That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress +And not as our confusion, all thy powers +Shall make their harbour in our town, till we +Have seal'd thy full desire. + +ALCIBIADES +Then there's my glove; +Descend, and open your uncharged ports: +Those enemies of Timon's and mine own +Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof +Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears +With my more noble meaning, not a man +Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream +Of regular justice in your city's bounds, +But shall be render'd to your public laws +At heaviest answer. + +Both +'Tis most nobly spoken. + +ALCIBIADES +Descend, and keep your words. + +The Senators descend, and open the gates + +Enter Soldier + +Soldier +My noble general, Timon is dead; +Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; +And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which +With wax I brought away, whose soft impression +Interprets for my poor ignorance. + +ALCIBIADES +[Reads the epitaph] 'Here lies a +wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: +Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked +caitiffs left! +Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: +Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay +not here thy gait.' +These well express in thee thy latter spirits: +Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, +Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our +droplets which +From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit +Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye +On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead +Is noble Timon: of whose memory +Hereafter more. Bring me into your city, +And I will use the olive with my sword, +Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each +Prescribe to other as each other's leech. +Let our drums strike. + +Exeunt +Titus Andronicus +Shakespeare homepage | Titus Andronicus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol. + +The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours +SATURNINUS +Noble patricians, patrons of my right, +Defend the justice of my cause with arms, +And, countrymen, my loving followers, +Plead my successive title with your swords: +I am his first-born son, that was the last +That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; +Then let my father's honours live in me, +Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + +BASSIANUS +Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, +If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, +Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, +Keep then this passage to the Capitol +And suffer not dishonour to approach +The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, +To justice, continence and nobility; +But let desert in pure election shine, +And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. + +Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Princes, that strive by factions and by friends +Ambitiously for rule and empery, +Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand +A special party, have, by common voice, +In election for the Roman empery, +Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius +For many good and great deserts to Rome: +A nobler man, a braver warrior, +Lives not this day within the city walls: +He by the senate is accit'd home +From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; +That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, +Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms. +Ten years are spent since first he undertook +This cause of Rome and chastised with arms +Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd +Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons +In coffins from the field; +And now at last, laden with horror's spoils, +Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, +Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. +Let us entreat, by honour of his name, +Whom worthily you would have now succeed. +And in the Capitol and senate's right, +Whom you pretend to honour and adore, +That you withdraw you and abate your strength; +Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, +Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + +SATURNINUS +How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! + +BASSIANUS +Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally +In thy uprightness and integrity, +And so I love and honour thee and thine, +Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, +And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, +Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, +That I will here dismiss my loving friends, +And to my fortunes and the people's favor +Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. + +Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS + +SATURNINUS +Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, +I thank you all and here dismiss you all, +And to the love and favor of my country +Commit myself, my person and the cause. + +Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS + +Rome, be as just and gracious unto me +As I am confident and kind to thee. +Open the gates, and let me in. + +BASSIANUS +Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol + +Enter a Captain + +Captain +Romans, make way: the good Andronicus. +Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, +Successful in the battles that he fights, +With honour and with fortune is return'd +From where he circumscribed with his sword, +And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. + +Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! +Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught, +Returns with precious jading to the bay +From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, +Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, +To re-salute his country with his tears, +Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. +Thou great defender of this Capitol, +Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! +Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, +Half of the number that King Priam had, +Behold the poor remains, alive and dead! +These that survive let Rome reward with love; +These that I bring unto their latest home, +With burial amongst their ancestors: +Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. +Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, +Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, +To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? +Make way to lay them by their brethren. + +The tomb is opened + +There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, +And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars! +O sacred receptacle of my joys, +Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, +How many sons of mine hast thou in store, +That thou wilt never render to me more! + +LUCIUS +Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, +That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile +Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, +Before this earthy prison of their bones; +That so the shadows be not unappeased, +Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I give him you, the noblest that survives, +The eldest son of this distressed queen. + +TAMORA +Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror, +Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, +A mother's tears in passion for her son: +And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, +O, think my son to be as dear to me! +Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome, +To beautify thy triumphs and return, +Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, +But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets, +For valiant doings in their country's cause? +O, if to fight for king and commonweal +Were piety in thine, it is in these. +Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood: +Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? +Draw near them then in being merciful: +Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge: +Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. +These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld +Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain +Religiously they ask a sacrifice: +To this your son is mark'd, and die he must, +To appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + +LUCIUS +Away with him! and make a fire straight; +And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, +Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS + +TAMORA +O cruel, irreligious piety! + +CHIRON +Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? + +DEMETRIUS +Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. +Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive +To tremble under Titus' threatening looks. +Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal +The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy +With opportunity of sharp revenge +Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, +May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths-- +When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-- +To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + +Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with their swords bloody + +LUCIUS +See, lord and father, how we have perform'd +Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, +And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, +Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. +Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren, +And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Let it be so; and let Andronicus +Make this his latest farewell to their souls. + +Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb + +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; +Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, +Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! +Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, +Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, +No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! + +Enter LAVINIA + +LAVINIA +In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; +My noble lord and father, live in fame! +Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears +I render, for my brethren's obsequies; +And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy, +Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome: +O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, +Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved +The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! +Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days, +And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! + +Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes; re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, +Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, +You that survive, and you that sleep in fame! +Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, +That in your country's service drew your swords: +But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, +That hath aspired to Solon's happiness +And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. +Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, +Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, +Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, +This palliament of white and spotless hue; +And name thee in election for the empire, +With these our late-deceased emperor's sons: +Be candidatus then, and put it on, +And help to set a head on headless Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +A better head her glorious body fits +Than his that shakes for age and feebleness: +What should I don this robe, and trouble you? +Be chosen with proclamations to-day, +To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, +And set abroad new business for you all? +Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, +And led my country's strength successfully, +And buried one and twenty valiant sons, +Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, +In right and service of their noble country +Give me a staff of honour for mine age, +But not a sceptre to control the world: +Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + +SATURNINUS +Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, Prince Saturninus. + +SATURNINUS +Romans, do me right: +Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not +Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. +Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell, +Rather than rob me of the people's hearts! + +LUCIUS +Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good +That noble-minded Titus means to thee! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee +The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. + +BASSIANUS +Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, +But honour thee, and will do till I die: +My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, +I will most thankful be; and thanks to men +Of noble minds is honourable meed. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, +I ask your voices and your suffrages: +Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + +Tribunes +To gratify the good Andronicus, +And gratulate his safe return to Rome, +The people will accept whom he admits. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make, +That you create your emperor's eldest son, +Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, +Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth, +And ripen justice in this commonweal: +Then, if you will elect by my advice, +Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!' + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +With voices and applause of every sort, +Patricians and plebeians, we create +Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, +And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!' + +A long flourish till they come down + +SATURNINUS +Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done +To us in our election this day, +I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, +And will with deeds requite thy gentleness: +And, for an onset, Titus, to advance +Thy name and honourable family, +Lavinia will I make my empress, +Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, +And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse: +Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match +I hold me highly honour'd of your grace: +And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, +King and commander of our commonweal, +The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate +My sword, my chariot and my prisoners; +Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord: +Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, +Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life! +How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts +Rome shall record, and when I do forget +The least of these unspeakable deserts, +Romans, forget your fealty to me. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +[To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to +an emperor; +To him that, for your honour and your state, +Will use you nobly and your followers. + +SATURNINUS +A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue +That I would choose, were I to choose anew. +Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance: +Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, +Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome: +Princely shall be thy usage every way. +Rest on my word, and let not discontent +Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you +Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. +Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? + +LAVINIA +Not I, my lord; sith true nobility +Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go; +Ransomless here we set our prisoners free: +Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show + +BASSIANUS +Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + +Seizing LAVINIA + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord? + +BASSIANUS +Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal +To do myself this reason and this right. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice: +This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + +LUCIUS +And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard? +Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised! + +SATURNINUS +Surprised! by whom? + +BASSIANUS +By him that justly may +Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. + +Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA + +MUTIUS +Brothers, help to convey her hence away, +And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. + +MUTIUS +My lord, you pass not here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, villain boy! +Barr'st me my way in Rome? + +Stabbing MUTIUS + +MUTIUS +Help, Lucius, help! + +Dies + +During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so, +In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine; +My sons would never so dishonour me: +Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor. + +LUCIUS +Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, +That is another's lawful promised love. + +Exit + +SATURNINUS +No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, +Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: +I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; +Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, +Confederates all thus to dishonour me. +Was there none else in Rome to make a stale, +But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, +Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine, +That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O monstrous! what reproachful words are these? + +SATURNINUS +But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece +To him that flourish'd for her with his sword +A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy; +One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, +To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +These words are razors to my wounded heart. + +SATURNINUS +And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths, +That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs +Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome, +If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, +Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, +And will create thee empress of Rome, +Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? +And here I swear by all the Roman gods, +Sith priest and holy water are so near +And tapers burn so bright and every thing +In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, +I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, +Or climb my palace, till from forth this place +I lead espoused my bride along with me. + +TAMORA +And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear, +If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, +She will a handmaid be to his desires, +A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. + +SATURNINUS +Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany +Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, +Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, +Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered: +There shall we consummate our spousal rites. + +Exeunt all but TITUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I am not bid to wait upon this bride. +Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, +Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs? + +Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! +In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, +Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed +That hath dishonour'd all our family; +Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons! + +LUCIUS +But let us give him burial, as becomes; +Give Mutius burial with our brethren. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb: +This monument five hundred years hath stood, +Which I have sumptuously re-edified: +Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors +Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls: +Bury him where you can; he comes not here. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, this is impiety in you: +My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him +He must be buried with his brethren. + +QUINTUS MARTIUS +And shall, or him we will accompany. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +'And shall!' what villain was it that spake +that word? + +QUINTUS +He that would vouch it in any place but here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, would you bury him in my despite? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee +To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, +And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded: +My foes I do repute you every one; +So, trouble me no more, but get you gone. + +MARTIUS +He is not with himself; let us withdraw. + +QUINTUS +Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. + +MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,-- + +QUINTUS +Father, and in that name doth nature speak,-- + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,-- + +LUCIUS +Dear father, soul and substance of us all,-- + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter +His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, +That died in honour and Lavinia's cause. +Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous: +The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax +That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son +Did graciously plead for his funerals: +Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy +Be barr'd his entrance here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Rise, Marcus, rise. +The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw, +To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome! +Well, bury him, and bury me the next. + +MUTIUS is put into the tomb + +LUCIUS +There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, +Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. + +All +[Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; +He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, +How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths +Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I know not, Marcus; but I know it is, +Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell: +Is she not then beholding to the man +That brought her for this high good turn so far? +Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + +Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others + +SATURNINUS +So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize: +God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride! + +BASSIANUS +And you of yours, my lord! I say no more, +Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave. + +SATURNINUS +Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, +Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. + +BASSIANUS +Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own, +My truth-betrothed love and now my wife? +But let the laws of Rome determine all; +Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine. + +SATURNINUS +'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us; +But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. + +BASSIANUS +My lord, what I have done, as best I may, +Answer I must and shall do with my life. +Only thus much I give your grace to know: +By all the duties that I owe to Rome, +This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, +Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd; +That in the rescue of Lavinia +With his own hand did slay his youngest son, +In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath +To be controll'd in that he frankly gave: +Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine, +That hath express'd himself in all his deeds +A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds: +'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me. +Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, +How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine! + +TAMORA +My worthy lord, if ever Tamora +Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, +Then hear me speak in indifferently for all; +And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + +SATURNINUS +What, madam! be dishonour'd openly, +And basely put it up without revenge? + +TAMORA +Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend +I should be author to dishonour you! +But on mine honour dare I undertake +For good Lord Titus' innocence in all; +Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: +Then, at my suit, look graciously on him; +Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, +Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. + +Aside to SATURNINUS + +be won at last; +Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: +You are but newly planted in your throne; +Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, +Upon a just survey, take Titus' part, +And so supplant you for ingratitude, +Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, +Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: +I'll find a day to massacre them all +And raze their faction and their family, +The cruel father and his traitorous sons, +To whom I sued for my dear son's life, +And make them know what 'tis to let a queen +Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. + +Aloud + +Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; +Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart +That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. + +SATURNINUS +Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I thank your majesty, and her, my lord: +These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, +A Roman now adopted happily, +And must advise the emperor for his good. +This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; +And let it be mine honour, good my lord, +That I have reconciled your friends and you. +For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd +My word and promise to the emperor, +That you will be more mild and tractable. +And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia; +By my advice, all humbled on your knees, +You shall ask pardon of his majesty. + +LUCIUS +We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness, +That what we did was mildly as we might, +Tendering our sister's honour and our own. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +That, on mine honour, here I do protest. + +SATURNINUS +Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + +TAMORA +Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends: +The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace; +I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back. + +SATURNINUS +Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here, +And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, +I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up. +Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, +I found a friend, and sure as death I swore +I would not part a bachelor from the priest. +Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides, +You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. +This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +To-morrow, an it please your majesty +To hunt the panther and the hart with me, +With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. + +SATURNINUS +Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Palace. + +Enter AARON +AARON +Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, +Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft, +Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash; +Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach. +As when the golden sun salutes the morn, +And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, +Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, +And overlooks the highest-peering hills; +So Tamora: +Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, +And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. +Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts, +To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, +And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long +Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains +And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes +Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. +Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! +I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, +To wait upon this new-made empress. +To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, +This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, +This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine, +And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's. +Holloa! what storm is this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge, +And manners, to intrude where I am graced; +And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. + +CHIRON +Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all; +And so in this, to bear me down with braves. +'Tis not the difference of a year or two +Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: +I am as able and as fit as thou +To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace; +And that my sword upon thee shall approve, +And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. + +AARON +[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep +the peace. + +DEMETRIUS +Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, +Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, +Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? +Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath +Till you know better how to handle it. + +CHIRON +Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, +Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. + +DEMETRIUS +Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? + +They draw + +AARON +[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords! +So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, +And maintain such a quarrel openly? +Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: +I would not for a million of gold +The cause were known to them it most concerns; +Nor would your noble mother for much more +Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome. +For shame, put up. + +DEMETRIUS +Not I, till I have sheathed +My rapier in his bosom and withal +Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat +That he hath breathed in my dishonour here. + +CHIRON +For that I am prepared and full resolved. +Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, +And with thy weapon nothing darest perform! + +AARON +Away, I say! +Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, +This petty brabble will undo us all. +Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous +It is to jet upon a prince's right? +What, is Lavinia then become so loose, +Or Bassianus so degenerate, +That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd +Without controlment, justice, or revenge? +Young lords, beware! and should the empress know +This discord's ground, the music would not please. + +CHIRON +I care not, I, knew she and all the world: +I love Lavinia more than all the world. + +DEMETRIUS +Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: +Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. + +AARON +Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome +How furious and impatient they be, +And cannot brook competitors in love? +I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths +By this device. + +CHIRON +Aaron, a thousand deaths +Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. + +AARON +To achieve her! how? + +DEMETRIUS +Why makest thou it so strange? +She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; +She is a woman, therefore may be won; +She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. +What, man! more water glideth by the mill +Than wots the miller of; and easy it is +Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: +Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother. +Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. + +AARON +[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. + +DEMETRIUS +Then why should he despair that knows to court it +With words, fair looks and liberality? +What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, +And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? + +AARON +Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so +Would serve your turns. + +CHIRON +Ay, so the turn were served. + +DEMETRIUS +Aaron, thou hast hit it. + +AARON +Would you had hit it too! +Then should not we be tired with this ado. +Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools +To square for this? would it offend you, then +That both should speed? + +CHIRON +Faith, not me. + +DEMETRIUS +Nor me, so I were one. + +AARON +For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: +'Tis policy and stratagem must do +That you affect; and so must you resolve, +That what you cannot as you would achieve, +You must perforce accomplish as you may. +Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste +Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. +A speedier course than lingering languishment +Must we pursue, and I have found the path. +My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; +There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: +The forest walks are wide and spacious; +And many unfrequented plots there are +Fitted by kind for rape and villany: +Single you thither then this dainty doe, +And strike her home by force, if not by words: +This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. +Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit +To villany and vengeance consecrate, +Will we acquaint with all that we intend; +And she shall file our engines with advice, +That will not suffer you to square yourselves, +But to your wishes' height advance you both. +The emperor's court is like the house of Fame, +The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: +The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; +There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take +your turns; +There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye, +And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + +CHIRON +Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice, + +DEMETRIUS +Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream +To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits. +Per Styga, per manes vehor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard. + +Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, & c., MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS +TITUS ANDRONICUS +The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, +The fields are fragrant and the woods are green: +Uncouple here and let us make a bay +And wake the emperor and his lovely bride +And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal, +That all the court may echo with the noise. +Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, +To attend the emperor's person carefully: +I have been troubled in my sleep this night, +But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. + +A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and Attendants + +Many good morrows to your majesty; +Madam, to you as many and as good: +I promised your grace a hunter's peal. + +SATURNINUS +And you have rung it lustily, my lord; +Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. + +BASSIANUS +Lavinia, how say you? + +LAVINIA +I say, no; +I have been broad awake two hours and more. + +SATURNINUS +Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have, +And to our sport. + +To TAMORA + +Madam, now shall ye see +Our Roman hunting. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +I have dogs, my lord, +Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, +And climb the highest promontory top. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +And I have horse will follow where the game +Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, +But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A lonely part of the forest. + +Enter AARON, with a bag of gold +AARON +He that had wit would think that I had none, +To bury so much gold under a tree, +And never after to inherit it. +Let him that thinks of me so abjectly +Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, +Which, cunningly effected, will beget +A very excellent piece of villany: +And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest + +Hides the gold + +That have their alms out of the empress' chest. + +Enter TAMORA + +TAMORA +My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, +When every thing doth make a gleeful boast? +The birds chant melody on every bush, +The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun, +The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind +And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: +Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, +And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, +Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, +As if a double hunt were heard at once, +Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise; +And, after conflict such as was supposed +The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd, +When with a happy storm they were surprised +And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave, +We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, +Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber; +Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds +Be unto us as is a nurse's song +Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. + +AARON +Madam, though Venus govern your desires, +Saturn is dominator over mine: +What signifies my deadly-standing eye, +My silence and my cloudy melancholy, +My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls +Even as an adder when she doth unroll +To do some fatal execution? +No, madam, these are no venereal signs: +Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, +Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. +Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul, +Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, +This is the day of doom for Bassianus: +His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day, +Thy sons make pillage of her chastity +And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood. +Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee, +And give the king this fatal plotted scroll. +Now question me no more; we are espied; +Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, +Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. + +TAMORA +Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + +AARON +No more, great empress; Bassianus comes: +Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons +To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. + +Exit + +Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA + +BASSIANUS +Who have we here? Rome's royal empress, +Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop? +Or is it Dian, habited like her, +Who hath abandoned her holy groves +To see the general hunting in this forest? + +TAMORA +Saucy controller of our private steps! +Had I the power that some say Dian had, +Thy temples should be planted presently +With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds +Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, +Unmannerly intruder as thou art! + +LAVINIA +Under your patience, gentle empress, +'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning; +And to be doubted that your Moor and you +Are singled forth to try experiments: +Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day! +'Tis pity they should take him for a stag. + +BASSIANUS +Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian +Doth make your honour of his body's hue, +Spotted, detested, and abominable. +Why are you sequester'd from all your train, +Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed. +And wander'd hither to an obscure plot, +Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, +If foul desire had not conducted you? + +LAVINIA +And, being intercepted in your sport, +Great reason that my noble lord be rated +For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence, +And let her joy her raven-colour'd love; +This valley fits the purpose passing well. + +BASSIANUS +The king my brother shall have note of this. + +LAVINIA +Ay, for these slips have made him noted long: +Good king, to be so mightily abused! + +TAMORA +Why have I patience to endure all this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +DEMETRIUS +How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! +Why doth your highness look so pale and wan? + +TAMORA +Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? +These two have 'ticed me hither to this place: +A barren detested vale, you see it is; +The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, +O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe: +Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, +Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven: +And when they show'd me this abhorred pit, +They told me, here, at dead time of the night, +A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, +Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, +Would make such fearful and confused cries +As any mortal body hearing it +Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. +No sooner had they told this hellish tale, +But straight they told me they would bind me here +Unto the body of a dismal yew, +And leave me to this miserable death: +And then they call'd me foul adulteress, +Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms +That ever ear did hear to such effect: +And, had you not by wondrous fortune come, +This vengeance on me had they executed. +Revenge it, as you love your mother's life, +Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children. + +DEMETRIUS +This is a witness that I am thy son. + +Stabs BASSIANUS + +CHIRON +And this for me, struck home to show my strength. + +Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies + +LAVINIA +Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, +For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + +TAMORA +Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys +Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her; +First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw: +This minion stood upon her chastity, +Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, +And with that painted hope braves your mightiness: +And shall she carry this unto her grave? + +CHIRON +An if she do, I would I were an eunuch. +Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, +And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. + +TAMORA +But when ye have the honey ye desire, +Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + +CHIRON +I warrant you, madam, we wil l make that sure. +Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy +That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,-- + +TAMORA +I will not hear her speak; away with her! + +LAVINIA +Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + +DEMETRIUS +Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory +To see her tears; but be your heart to them +As unrelenting flint to drops of rain. + +LAVINIA +When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? +O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee; +The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble; +Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. +Yet every mother breeds not sons alike: + +To CHIRON + +Do thou entreat her show a woman pity. + +CHIRON +What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + +LAVINIA +'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark: +Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!-- +The lion moved with pity did endure +To have his princely paws pared all away: +Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, +The whilst their own birds famish in their nests: +O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, +Nothing so kind, but something pitiful! + +TAMORA +I know not what it means; away with her! + +LAVINIA +O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake, +That gave thee life, when well he might have +slain thee, +Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears. + +TAMORA +Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me, +Even for his sake am I pitiless. +Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, +To save your brother from the sacrifice; +But fierce Andronicus would not relent; +Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will, +The worse to her, the better loved of me. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, +And with thine own hands kill me in this place! +For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long; +Poor I was slain when Bassianus died. + +TAMORA +What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go. + +LAVINIA +'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more +That womanhood denies my tongue to tell: +O, keep me from their worse than killing lust, +And tumble me into some loathsome pit, +Where never man's eye may behold my body: +Do this, and be a charitable murderer. + +TAMORA +So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: +No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. + +DEMETRIUS +Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long. + +LAVINIA +No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature! +The blot and enemy to our general name! +Confusion fall-- + +CHIRON +Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband: +This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. + +DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging off LAVINIA + +TAMORA +Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure. +Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed, +Till all the Andronici be made away. +Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, +And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r. + +Exit + +Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS + +AARON +Come on, my lords, the better foot before: +Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit +Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + +QUINTUS +My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + +MARTIUS +And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame, +Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. + +Falls into the pit + +QUINTUS +What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this, +Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers, +Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood +As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers? +A very fatal place it seems to me. +Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall? + +MARTIUS +O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt +That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + +AARON +[Aside] Now will I fetch the king to find them here, +That he thereby may give a likely guess +How these were they that made away his brother. + +Exit + +MARTIUS +Why dost not comfort me, and help me out +From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole? + +QUINTUS +I am surprised with an uncouth fear; +A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints: +My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. + +MARTIUS +To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, +Aaron and thou look down into this den, +And see a fearful sight of blood and death. + +QUINTUS +Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart +Will not permit mine eyes once to behold +The thing whereat it trembles by surmise; +O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now +Was I a child to fear I know not what. + +MARTIUS +Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here, +All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb, +In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + +QUINTUS +If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + +MARTIUS +Upon his bloody finger he doth wear +A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, +Which, like a taper in some monument, +Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, +And shows the ragged entrails of the pit: +So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus +When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. +O brother, help me with thy fainting hand-- +If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath-- +Out of this fell devouring receptacle, +As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth. + +QUINTUS +Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out; +Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, +I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb +Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave. +I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink. + +MARTIUS +Nor I no strength to climb without thy help. + +QUINTUS +Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, +Till thou art here aloft, or I below: +Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee. + +Falls in + +Enter SATURNINUS with AARON + +SATURNINUS +Along with me: I'll see what hole is here, +And what he is that now is leap'd into it. +Say who art thou that lately didst descend +Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + +MARTIUS +The unhappy son of old Andronicus: +Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, +To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + +SATURNINUS +My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: +He and his lady both are at the lodge +Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; +'Tis not an hour since I left him there. + +MARTIUS +We know not where you left him all alive; +But, out, alas! here have we found him dead. + +Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and Lucius + +TAMORA +Where is my lord the king? + +SATURNINUS +Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. + +TAMORA +Where is thy brother Bassianus? + +SATURNINUS +Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound: +Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + +TAMORA +Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, +The complot of this timeless tragedy; +And wonder greatly that man's face can fold +In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. + +She giveth SATURNINUS a letter + +SATURNINUS +[Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely-- +Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean-- +Do thou so much as dig the grave for him: +Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward +Among the nettles at the elder-tree +Which overshades the mouth of that same pit +Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. +Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.' +O Tamora! was ever heard the like? +This is the pit, and this the elder-tree. +Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out +That should have murdered Bassianus here. + +AARON +My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. + +SATURNINUS +[To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of +bloody kind, +Have here bereft my brother of his life. +Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison: +There let them bide until we have devised +Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + +TAMORA +What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! +How easily murder is discovered! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +High emperor, upon my feeble knee +I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, +That this fell fault of my accursed sons, +Accursed if the fault be proved in them,-- + +SATURNINUS +If it be proved! you see it is apparent. +Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + +TAMORA +Andronicus himself did take it up. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail; +For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow +They shall be ready at your highness' will +To answer their suspicion with their lives. + +SATURNINUS +Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me. +Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers: +Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain; +For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, +That end upon them should be executed. + +TAMORA +Andronicus, I will entreat the king; +Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the forest. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out +DEMETRIUS +So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, +Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee. + +CHIRON +Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, +An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. + +DEMETRIUS +See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl. + +CHIRON +Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands. + +DEMETRIUS +She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; +And so let's leave her to her silent walks. + +CHIRON +An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself. + +DEMETRIUS +If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. + +Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +Enter MARCUS + +MARCUS +Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast! +Cousin, a word; where is your husband? +If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! +If I do wake, some planet strike me down, +That I may slumber in eternal sleep! +Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands +Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare +Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, +Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, +And might not gain so great a happiness +As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me? +Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, +Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, +Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, +Coming and going with thy honey breath. +But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee, +And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. +Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame! +And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood, +As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, +Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face +Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. +Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? +O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast, +That I might rail at him, to ease my mind! +Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, +Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. +Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, +And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind: +But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee; +A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, +And he hath cut those pretty fingers off, +That could have better sew'd than Philomel. +O, had the monster seen those lily hands +Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute, +And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, +He would not then have touch'd them for his life! +Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony +Which that sweet tongue hath made, +He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep +As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. +Come, let us go, and make thy father blind; +For such a sight will blind a father's eye: +One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; +What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? +Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee +O, could our mourning ease thy misery! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of execution; TITUS going before, pleading +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay! +For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent +In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept; +For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed; +For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd; +And for these bitter tears, which now you see +Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks; +Be pitiful to my condemned sons, +Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought. +For two and twenty sons I never wept, +Because they died in honour's lofty bed. + +Lieth down; the Judges, & c., pass by him, and Exeunt + +For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write +My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears: +Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; +My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. +O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain, +That shall distil from these two ancient urns, +Than youthful April shall with all his showers: +In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still; +In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow +And keep eternal spring-time on thy face, +So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. + +Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn + +O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men! +Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death; +And let me say, that never wept before, +My tears are now prevailing orators. + +LUCIUS +O noble father, you lament in vain: +The tribunes hear you not; no man is by; +And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead. +Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,-- + +LUCIUS +My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear, +They would not mark me, or if they did mark, +They would not pity me, yet plead I must; +Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; +Who, though they cannot answer my distress, +Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, +For that they will not intercept my tale: +When I do weep, they humbly at my feet +Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; +And, were they but attired in grave weeds, +Rome could afford no tribune like to these. +A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones; +A stone is silent, and offendeth not, +And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. + +Rises + +But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? + +LUCIUS +To rescue my two brothers from their death: +For which attempt the judges have pronounced +My everlasting doom of banishment. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O happy man! they have befriended thee. +Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive +That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? +Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey +But me and mine: how happy art thou, then, +From these devourers to be banished! +But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + +Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep; +Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break: +I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Will it consume me? let me see it, then. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +This was thy daughter. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, Marcus, so she is. + +LUCIUS +Ay me, this object kills me! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her. +Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand +Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? +What fool hath added water to the sea, +Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? +My grief was at the height before thou camest, +And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. +Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; +For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain; +And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life; +In bootless prayer have they been held up, +And they have served me to effectless use: +Now all the service I require of them +Is that the one will help to cut the other. +'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; +For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain. + +LUCIUS +Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, that delightful engine of her thoughts +That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence, +Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage, +Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung +Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear! + +LUCIUS +O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, thus I found her, straying in the park, +Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer +That hath received some unrecuring wound. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It was my deer; and he that wounded her +Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead: +For now I stand as one upon a rock +Environed with a wilderness of sea, +Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, +Expecting ever when some envious surge +Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. +This way to death my wretched sons are gone; +Here stands my other son, a banished man, +And here my brother, weeping at my woes. +But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn, +Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. +Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, +It would have madded me: what shall I do +Now I behold thy lively body so? +Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears: +Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: +Thy husband he is dead: and for his death +Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this. +Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! +When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears +Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew +Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; +Perchance because she knows them innocent. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not + +Romeo and Juliet +Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +Two households, both alike in dignity, +In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; +Whole misadventured piteous overthrows +Do with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. + +SCENE I. Verona. A public place. + +Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers +SAMPSON +Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY +No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON +I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY +Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + +SAMPSON +I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY +But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON +A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY +To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: +therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + +SAMPSON +A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will +take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY +That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes +to the wall. + +SAMPSON +True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, +are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids +to the wall. + +GREGORY +The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + +SAMPSON +'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I +have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the +maids, and cut off their heads. + +GREGORY +The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON +Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; +take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY +They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON +Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and +'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY +'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes +two of the house of the Montagues. + +SAMPSON +My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + +GREGORY +How! turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON +Fear me not. + +GREGORY +No, marry; I fear thee! + +SAMPSON +Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + +GREGORY +I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as +they list. + +SAMPSON +Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; +which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + +Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say +ay? + +GREGORY +No. + +SAMPSON +No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I +bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY +Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAHAM +Quarrel sir! no, sir. + +SAMPSON +If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. + +ABRAHAM +No better. + +SAMPSON +Well, sir. + +GREGORY +Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON +Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAHAM +You lie. + +SAMPSON +Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. + +They fight + +Enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +Part, fools! +Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + +Beats down their swords + +Enter TYBALT + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: +Have at thee, coward! + +They fight + +Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs + +First Citizen +Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + +Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + +CAPULET +My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + +Enter PRINCE, with Attendants + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- +Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins, +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partisans, in hands as old, +Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time, all the rest depart away: +You Capulet; shall go along with me: +And, Montague, come you this afternoon, +To know our further pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO + +MONTAGUE +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: +I drew to part them: in the instant came +The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; +Where, underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from the city's side, +So early walking did I see your son: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood: +I, measuring his affections by my own, +That most are busied when they're most alone, +Pursued my humour not pursuing his, +And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the furthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from the light steals home my heavy son, +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out +And makes himself an artificial night: +Black and portentous must this humour prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends: +But he, his own affections' counsellor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true-- +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm, +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, +Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; +I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + +Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +BENVOLIO +Good-morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO +Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO +Ay me! sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO +In love? + +ROMEO +Out-- + +BENVOLIO +Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favour, where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! +O any thing, of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness! serious vanity! +Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, +sick health! +Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO +No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +BENVOLIO +At thy good heart's oppression. + +ROMEO +Why, such is love's transgression. +Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest +With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown +Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. +Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; +Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; +Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: +What is it else? a madness most discreet, +A choking gall and a preserving sweet. +Farewell, my coz. + +BENVOLIO +Soft! I will go along; +An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + +ROMEO +Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; +This is not Romeo, he's some other where. + +BENVOLIO +Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. + +ROMEO +What, shall I groan and tell thee? + +BENVOLIO +Groan! why, no. +But sadly tell me who. + +ROMEO +Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: +Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! +In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + +BENVOLIO +I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. + +ROMEO +A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. + +BENVOLIO +A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + +ROMEO +Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit +With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; +And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, +From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. +She will not stay the siege of loving terms, +Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, +Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: +O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, +That when she dies with beauty dies her store. + +BENVOLIO +Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + +ROMEO +She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, +For beauty starved with her severity +Cuts beauty off from all posterity. +She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, +To merit bliss by making me despair: +She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow +Do I live dead that live to tell it now. + +BENVOLIO +Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. + +ROMEO +O, teach me how I should forget to think. + +BENVOLIO +By giving liberty unto thine eyes; +Examine other beauties. + +ROMEO +'Tis the way +To call hers exquisite, in question more: +These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows +Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; +He that is strucken blind cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: +Show me a mistress that is passing fair, +What doth her beauty serve, but as a note +Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? +Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. + +BENVOLIO +I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant +CAPULET +But Montague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, +For men so old as we to keep the peace. + +PARIS +Of honourable reckoning are you both; +And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. +But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? + +CAPULET +But saying o'er what I have said before: +My child is yet a stranger in the world; +She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, +Let two more summers wither in their pride, +Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. + +PARIS +Younger than she are happy mothers made. + +CAPULET +And too soon marr'd are those so early made. +The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, +She is the hopeful lady of my earth: +But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, +My will to her consent is but a part; +An she agree, within her scope of choice +Lies my consent and fair according voice. +This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, +Whereto I have invited many a guest, +Such as I love; and you, among the store, +One more, most welcome, makes my number more. +At my poor house look to behold this night +Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: +Such comfort as do lusty young men feel +When well-apparell'd April on the heel +Of limping winter treads, even such delight +Among fresh female buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, +And like her most whose merit most shall be: +Which on more view, of many mine being one +May stand in number, though in reckoning none, +Come, go with me. + +To Servant, giving a paper + +Go, sirrah, trudge about +Through fair Verona; find those persons out +Whose names are written there, and to them say, +My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. + +Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS + +Servant +Find them out whose names are written here! It is +written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his +yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with +his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am +sent to find those persons whose names are here +writ, and can never find what names the writing +person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. + +Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, +One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; +Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; +One desperate grief cures with another's languish: +Take thou some new infection to thy eye, +And the rank poison of the old will die. + +ROMEO +Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. + +BENVOLIO +For what, I pray thee? + +ROMEO +For your broken shin. + +BENVOLIO +Why, Romeo, art thou mad? + +ROMEO +Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; +Shut up in prison, kept without my food, +Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. + +Servant +God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? + +ROMEO +Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. + +Servant +Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I +pray, can you read any thing you see? + +ROMEO +Ay, if I know the letters and the language. + +Servant +Ye say honestly: rest you merry! + +ROMEO +Stay, fellow; I can read. + +Reads + +'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; +County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady +widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely +nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine +uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece +Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin +Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair +assembly: whither should they come? + +Servant +Up. + +ROMEO +Whither? + +Servant +To supper; to our house. + +ROMEO +Whose house? + +Servant +My master's. + +ROMEO +Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. + +Servant +Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the +great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house +of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. +Rest you merry! + +Exit + +BENVOLIO +At this same ancient feast of Capulet's +Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, +With all the admired beauties of Verona: +Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. + +ROMEO +When the devout religion of mine eye +Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; +And these, who often drown'd could never die, +Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! +One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun +Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. + +BENVOLIO +Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, +Herself poised with herself in either eye: +But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd +Your lady's love against some other maid +That I will show you shining at this feast, +And she shall scant show well that now shows best. + +ROMEO +I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, +But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. + +Nurse +Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, +I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! +God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! + +Enter JULIET + +JULIET +How now! who calls? + +Nurse +Your mother. + +JULIET +Madam, I am here. +What is your will? + +LADY CAPULET +This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, +We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; +I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. +Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. + +Nurse +Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. + +LADY CAPULET +She's not fourteen. + +Nurse +I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- +And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- +She is not fourteen. How long is it now +To Lammas-tide? + +LADY CAPULET +A fortnight and odd days. + +Nurse +Even or odd, of all days in the year, +Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. +Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- +Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; +She was too good for me: but, as I said, +On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; +That shall she, marry; I remember it well. +'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; +And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- +Of all the days of the year, upon that day: +For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, +Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; +My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- +Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, +When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple +Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, +To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! +Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, +To bid me trudge: +And since that time it is eleven years; +For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, +She could have run and waddled all about; +For even the day before, she broke her brow: +And then my husband--God be with his soul! +A' was a merry man--took up the child: +'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, +The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' +To see, now, how a jest shall come about! +I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, +I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; +And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +LADY CAPULET +Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. + +Nurse +Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, +To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' +And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow +A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; +A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: +'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +JULIET +And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. + +Nurse +Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! +Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: +An I might live to see thee married once, +I have my wish. + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme +I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, +How stands your disposition to be married? + +JULIET +It is an honour that I dream not of. + +Nurse +An honour! were not I thine only nurse, +I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, +Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, +Are made already mothers: by my count, +I was your mother much upon these years +That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: +The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. + +Nurse +A man, young lady! lady, such a man +As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. + +LADY CAPULET +Verona's summer hath not such a flower. + +Nurse +Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. + +LADY CAPULET +What say you? can you love the gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our feast; +Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, +And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; +Examine every married lineament, +And see how one another lends content +And what obscured in this fair volume lies +Find written in the margent of his eyes. +This precious book of love, this unbound lover, +To beautify him, only lacks a cover: +The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride +For fair without the fair within to hide: +That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, +That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; +So shall you share all that he doth possess, +By having him, making yourself no less. + +Nurse +No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. + +LADY CAPULET +Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? + +JULIET +I'll look to like, if looking liking move: +But no more deep will I endart mine eye +Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you +called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in +the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must +hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. + +LADY CAPULET +We follow thee. + +Exit Servant + +Juliet, the county stays. + +Nurse +Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others +ROMEO +What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without a apology? + +BENVOLIO +The date is out of such prolixity: +We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, +Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, +Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; +Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke +After the prompter, for our entrance: +But let them measure us by what they will; +We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. + +ROMEO +Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; +Being but heavy, I will bear the light. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. + +ROMEO +Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes +With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead +So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. + +MERCUTIO +You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, +And soar with them above a common bound. + +ROMEO +I am too sore enpierced with his shaft +To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, +I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: +Under love's heavy burden do I sink. + +MERCUTIO +And, to sink in it, should you burden love; +Too great oppression for a tender thing. + +ROMEO +Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, +Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. + +MERCUTIO +If love be rough with you, be rough with love; +Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. +Give me a case to put my visage in: +A visor for a visor! what care I +What curious eye doth quote deformities? +Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. + +BENVOLIO +Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in, +But every man betake him to his legs. + +ROMEO +A torch for me: let wantons light of heart +Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, +For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase; +I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. +The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. + +MERCUTIO +Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: +If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire +Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st +Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! + +ROMEO +Nay, that's not so. + +MERCUTIO +I mean, sir, in delay +We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. +Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits +Five times in that ere once in our five wits. + +ROMEO +And we mean well in going to this mask; +But 'tis no wit to go. + +MERCUTIO +Why, may one ask? + +ROMEO +I dream'd a dream to-night. + +MERCUTIO +And so did I. + +ROMEO +Well, what was yours? + +MERCUTIO +That dreamers often lie. + +ROMEO +In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. + +MERCUTIO +O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. +She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes +In shape no bigger than an agate-stone +On the fore-finger of an alderman, +Drawn with a team of little atomies +Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; +Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, +The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, +The traces of the smallest spider's web, +The collars of the moonshine's watery beams, +Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, +Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, +Not so big as a round little worm +Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; +Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut +Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, +Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. +And in this state she gallops night by night +Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; +O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight, +O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, +O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, +Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, +Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: +Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, +And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; +And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail +Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, +Then dreams, he of another benefice: +Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, +And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, +Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, +Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon +Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, +And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two +And sleeps again. This is that very Mab +That plats the manes of horses in the night, +And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, +Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: +This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, +That presses them and learns them first to bear, +Making them women of good carriage: +This is she-- + +ROMEO +Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! +Thou talk'st of nothing. + +MERCUTIO +True, I talk of dreams, +Which are the children of an idle brain, +Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, +Which is as thin of substance as the air +And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes +Even now the frozen bosom of the north, +And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, +Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. + +BENVOLIO +This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; +Supper is done, and we shall come too late. + +ROMEO +I fear, too early: for my mind misgives +Some consequence yet hanging in the stars +Shall bitterly begin his fearful date +With this night's revels and expire the term +Of a despised life closed in my breast +By some vile forfeit of untimely death. +But He, that hath the steerage of my course, +Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. + +BENVOLIO +Strike, drum. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house. + +Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins +First Servant +Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He +shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! + +Second Servant +When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's +hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. + +First Servant +Away with the joint-stools, remove the +court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save +me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let +the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. +Antony, and Potpan! + +Second Servant +Ay, boy, ready. + +First Servant +You are looked for and called for, asked for and +sought for, in the great chamber. + +Second Servant +We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be +brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. + +Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers + +CAPULET +Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes +Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. +Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all +Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, +She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? +Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day +That I have worn a visor and could tell +A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, +Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: +You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. +A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. + +Music plays, and they dance + +More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, +And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. +Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. +Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; +For you and I are past our dancing days: +How long is't now since last yourself and I +Were in a mask? + +Second Capulet +By'r lady, thirty years. + +CAPULET +What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: +'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, +Come pentecost as quickly as it will, +Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. + +Second Capulet +'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir; +His son is thirty. + +CAPULET +Will you tell me that? +His son was but a ward two years ago. + +ROMEO +[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth +enrich the hand +Of yonder knight? + +Servant +I know not, sir. + +ROMEO +O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! +It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night +Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; +Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! +So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, +As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. +The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, +And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! +For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. + +TYBALT +This, by his voice, should be a Montague. +Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave +Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, +To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? +Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, +To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin. + +CAPULET +Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? + +TYBALT +Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, +A villain that is hither come in spite, +To scorn at our solemnity this night. + +CAPULET +Young Romeo is it? + +TYBALT +'Tis he, that villain Romeo. + +CAPULET +Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; +He bears him like a portly gentleman; +And, to say truth, Verona brags of him +To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: +I would not for the wealth of all the town +Here in my house do him disparagement: +Therefore be patient, take no note of him: +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, +And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. + +TYBALT +It fits, when such a villain is a guest: +I'll not endure him. + +CAPULET +He shall be endured: +What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; +Am I the master here, or you? go to. +You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! +You'll make a mutiny among my guests! +You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! + +TYBALT +Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. + +CAPULET +Go to, go to; +You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed? +This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: +You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. +Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: +Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! +I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! + +TYBALT +Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. +I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall +Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. + +Exit + +ROMEO +[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand +This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: +My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand +To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. + +JULIET +Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, +Which mannerly devotion shows in this; +For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, +And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. + +ROMEO +Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? + +JULIET +Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. + +ROMEO +O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; +They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. + +JULIET +Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. + +ROMEO +Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. +Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. + +JULIET +Then have my lips the sin that they have took. + +ROMEO +Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! +Give me my sin again. + +JULIET +You kiss by the book. + +Nurse +Madam, your mother craves a word with you. + +ROMEO +What is her mother? + +Nurse +Marry, bachelor, +Her mother is the lady of the house, +And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous +I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal; +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her +Shall have the chinks. + +ROMEO +Is she a Capulet? +O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. + +BENVOLIO +Away, begone; the sport is at the best. + +ROMEO +Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. + +CAPULET +Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; +We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. +Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all +I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. +More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. +Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late: +I'll to my rest. + +Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse + +JULIET +Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? + +Nurse +The son and heir of old Tiberio. + +JULIET +What's he that now is going out of door? + +Nurse +Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. + +JULIET +What's he that follows there, that would not dance? + +Nurse +I know not. + +JULIET +Go ask his name: if he be married. +My grave is like to be my wedding bed. + +Nurse +His name is Romeo, and a Montague; +The only son of your great enemy. + +JULIET +My only love sprung from my only hate! +Too early seen unknown, and known too late! +Prodigious birth of love it is to me, +That I must love a loathed enemy. + +Nurse +What's this? what's this? + +JULIET +A rhyme I learn'd even now +Of one I danced withal. + +One calls within 'Juliet.' + +Nurse +Anon, anon! +Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, +And young affection gapes to be his heir; +That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, +With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. +Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, +Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, +But to his foe supposed he must complain, +And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: +Being held a foe, he may not have access +To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; +And she as much in love, her means much less +To meet her new-beloved any where: +But passion lends them power, time means, to meet +Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. + +Exit + +SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +Can I go forward when my heart is here? +Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. + +He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO + +BENVOLIO +Romeo! my cousin Romeo! + +MERCUTIO +He is wise; +And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. + +BENVOLIO +He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: +Call, good Mercutio. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I'll conjure too. +Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! +Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: +Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; +Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' +Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, +One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, +Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, +When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; +The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. +I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, +By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, +By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh +And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, +That in thy likeness thou appear to us! + +BENVOLIO +And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. + +MERCUTIO +This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him +To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle +Of some strange nature, letting it there stand +Till she had laid it and conjured it down; +That were some spite: my invocation +Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name +I conjure only but to raise up him. + +BENVOLIO +Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, +To be consorted with the humorous night: +Blind is his love and best befits the dark. + +MERCUTIO +If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. +Now will he sit under a medlar tree, +And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit +As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. +Romeo, that she were, O, that she were +An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! +Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; +This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: +Come, shall we go? + +BENVOLIO +Go, then; for 'tis in vain +To seek him here that means not to be found. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +He jests at scars that never felt a wound. + +JULIET appears above at a window + +But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. +Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, +Who is already sick and pale with grief, +That thou her maid art far more fair than she: +Be not her maid, since she is envious; +Her vestal livery is but sick and green +And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. +It is my lady, O, it is my love! +O, that she knew she were! +She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? +Her eye discourses; I will answer it. +I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: +Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, +Having some business, do entreat her eyes +To twinkle in their spheres till they return. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head? +The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, +As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven +Would through the airy region stream so bright +That birds would sing and think it were not night. +See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! +O, that I were a glove upon that hand, +That I might touch that cheek! + +JULIET +Ay me! + +ROMEO +She speaks: +O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art +As glorious to this night, being o'er my head +As is a winged messenger of heaven +Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes +Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him +When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds +And sails upon the bosom of the air. + +JULIET +O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? +Deny thy father and refuse thy name; +Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, +And I'll no longer be a Capulet. + +ROMEO +[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? + +JULIET +'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; +Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. +What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, +Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part +Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! +What's in a name? that which we call a rose +By any other name would smell as sweet; +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, +Retain that dear perfection which he owes +Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, +And for that name which is no part of thee +Take all myself. + +ROMEO +I take thee at thy word: +Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; +Henceforth I never will be Romeo. + +JULIET +What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night +So stumblest on my counsel? + +ROMEO +By a name +I know not how to tell thee who I am: +My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, +Because it is an enemy to thee; +Had I it written, I would tear the word. + +JULIET +My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words +Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: +Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? + +ROMEO +Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. + +JULIET +How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? +The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here. + +ROMEO +With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; +For stony limits cannot hold love out, +And what love can do that dares love attempt; +Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. + +JULIET +If they do see thee, they will murder thee. + +ROMEO +Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye +Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, +And I am proof against their enmity. + +JULIET +I would not for the world they saw thee here. + +ROMEO +I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; +And but thou love me, let them find me here: +My life were better ended by their hate, +Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. + +JULIET +By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + +ROMEO +By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; +He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. +I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far +As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, +I would adventure for such merchandise. + +JULIET +Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, +Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek +For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night +Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny +What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! +Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' +And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, +Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries +Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, +If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: +Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, +I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, +So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. +In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, +And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: +But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true +Than those that have more cunning to be strange. +I should have been more strange, I must confess, +But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, +My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yielding to light love, +Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +ROMEO +Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear +That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- + +JULIET +O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, +That monthly changes in her circled orb, +Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. + +ROMEO +What shall I swear by? + +JULIET +Do not swear at all; +Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, +Which is the god of my idolatry, +And I'll believe thee. + +ROMEO +If my heart's dear love-- + +JULIET +Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, +I have no joy of this contract to-night: +It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; +Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be +Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! +This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, +May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. +Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest +Come to thy heart as that within my breast! + +ROMEO +O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? + +JULIET +What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? + +ROMEO +The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. + +JULIET +I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: +And yet I would it were to give again. + +ROMEO +Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? + +JULIET +But to be frank, and give it thee again. +And yet I wish but for the thing I have: +My bounty is as boundless as the sea, +My love as deep; the more I give to thee, +The more I have, for both are infinite. + +Nurse calls within + +I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! +Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. +Stay but a little, I will come again. + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. +Being in night, all this is but a dream, +Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. +If that thy bent of love be honourable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, +By one that I'll procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; +And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay +And follow thee my lord throughout the world. + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, +I do beseech thee-- + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +By and by, I come:-- +To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: +To-morrow will I send. + +ROMEO +So thrive my soul-- + +JULIET +A thousand times good night! + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. +Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from +their books, +But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. + +Retiring + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, +To lure this tassel-gentle back again! +Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; +Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, +And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, +With repetition of my Romeo's name. + +ROMEO +It is my soul that calls upon my name: +How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, +Like softest music to attending ears! + +JULIET +Romeo! + +ROMEO +My dear? + +JULIET +At what o'clock to-morrow +Shall I send to thee? + +ROMEO +At the hour of nine. + +JULIET +I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. +I have forgot why I did call thee back. + +ROMEO +Let me stand here till thou remember it. + +JULIET +I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, +Remembering how I love thy company. + +ROMEO +And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this. + +JULIET +'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: +And yet no further than a wanton's bird; +Who lets it hop a little from her hand, +Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, +And with a silk thread plucks it back again, +So loving-jealous of his liberty. + +ROMEO +I would I were thy bird. + +JULIET +Sweet, so would I: +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. +Good night, good night! parting is such +sweet sorrow, +That I shall say good night till it be morrow. + +Exit above + +ROMEO +Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! +Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! +Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, +His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket +FRIAR LAURENCE +The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, +Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, +And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels +From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: +Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, +The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, +I must up-fill this osier cage of ours +With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. +The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; +What is her burying grave that is her womb, +And from her womb children of divers kind +We sucking on her natural bosom find, +Many for many virtues excellent, +None but for some and yet all different. +O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies +In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: +For nought so vile that on the earth doth live +But to the earth some special good doth give, +Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use +Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: +Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; +And vice sometimes by action dignified. +Within the infant rind of this small flower +Poison hath residence and medicine power: +For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; +Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. +Two such opposed kings encamp them still +In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Good morrow, father. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Benedicite! +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young son, it argues a distemper'd head +So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: +Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, +And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; +But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain +Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: +Therefore thy earliness doth me assure +Thou art up-roused by some distemperature; +Or if not so, then here I hit it right, +Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. + +ROMEO +That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? + +ROMEO +With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; +I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? + +ROMEO +I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. +I have been feasting with mine enemy, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, +That's by me wounded: both our remedies +Within thy help and holy physic lies: +I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, +My intercession likewise steads my foe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; +Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. + +ROMEO +Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set +On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; +And all combined, save what thou must combine +By holy marriage: when and where and how +We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, +I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, +That thou consent to marry us to-day. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! +Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, +So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies +Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine +Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! +How much salt water thrown away in waste, +To season love, that of it doth not taste! +The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, +Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; +Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit +Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: +If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, +Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: +And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, +Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. + +ROMEO +Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. + +ROMEO +And bad'st me bury love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Not in a grave, +To lay one in, another out to have. + +ROMEO +I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now +Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; +The other did not so. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, she knew well +Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. +But come, young waverer, come, go with me, +In one respect I'll thy assistant be; +For this alliance may so happy prove, +To turn your households' rancour to pure love. + +ROMEO +O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO +MERCUTIO +Where the devil should this Romeo be? +Came he not home to-night? + +BENVOLIO +Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. + +MERCUTIO +Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. +Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, +Hath sent a letter to his father's house. + +MERCUTIO +A challenge, on my life. + +BENVOLIO +Romeo will answer it. + +MERCUTIO +Any man that can write may answer a letter. + +BENVOLIO +Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he +dares, being dared. + +MERCUTIO +Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a +white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a +love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the +blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to +encounter Tybalt? + +BENVOLIO +Why, what is Tybalt? + +MERCUTIO +More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is +the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as +you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and +proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and +the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk +button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the +very first house, of the first and second cause: +ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the +hai! + +BENVOLIO +The what? + +MERCUTIO +The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting +fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, +a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good +whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, +grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with +these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these +perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, +that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their +bones, their bones! + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. + +MERCUTIO +Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, +how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers +that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a +kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to +be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; +Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey +eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior +Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation +to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit +fairly last night. + +ROMEO +Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? + +MERCUTIO +The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? + +ROMEO +Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in +such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. + +MERCUTIO +That's as much as to say, such a case as yours +constrains a man to bow in the hams. + +ROMEO +Meaning, to court'sy. + +MERCUTIO +Thou hast most kindly hit it. + +ROMEO +A most courteous exposition. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. + +ROMEO +Pink for flower. + +MERCUTIO +Right. + +ROMEO +Why, then is my pump well flowered. + +MERCUTIO +Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast +worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it +is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. + +ROMEO +O single-soled jest, solely singular for the +singleness. + +MERCUTIO +Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. + +ROMEO +Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have +done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of +thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: +was I with you there for the goose? + +ROMEO +Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast +not there for the goose. + +MERCUTIO +I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. + +ROMEO +Nay, good goose, bite not. + +MERCUTIO +Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most +sharp sauce. + +ROMEO +And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? + +MERCUTIO +O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an +inch narrow to an ell broad! + +ROMEO +I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added +to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. + +MERCUTIO +Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? +now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art +thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: +for this drivelling love is like a great natural, +that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. + +BENVOLIO +Stop there, stop there. + +MERCUTIO +Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. + +BENVOLIO +Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. + +MERCUTIO +O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: +for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and +meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. + +ROMEO +Here's goodly gear! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +MERCUTIO +A sail, a sail! + +BENVOLIO +Two, two; a shirt and a smock. + +Nurse +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +My fan, Peter. + +MERCUTIO +Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the +fairer face. + +Nurse +God ye good morrow, gentlemen. + +MERCUTIO +God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. + +Nurse +Is it good den? + +MERCUTIO +'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the +dial is now upon the prick of noon. + +Nurse +Out upon you! what a man are you! + +ROMEO +One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to +mar. + +Nurse +By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' +quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I +may find the young Romeo? + +ROMEO +I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when +you have found him than he was when you sought him: +I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. + +Nurse +You say well. + +MERCUTIO +Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; +wisely, wisely. + +Nurse +if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with +you. + +BENVOLIO +She will indite him to some supper. + +MERCUTIO +A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! + +ROMEO +What hast thou found? + +MERCUTIO +No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, +that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. + +Sings + +An old hare hoar, +And an old hare hoar, +Is very good meat in lent +But a hare that is hoar +Is too much for a score, +When it hoars ere it be spent. +Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll +to dinner, thither. + +ROMEO +I will follow you. + +MERCUTIO +Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, + +Singing + +'lady, lady, lady.' + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +Nurse +Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy +merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? + +ROMEO +A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, +and will speak more in a minute than he will stand +to in a month. + +Nurse +An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him +down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such +Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. +Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am +none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by +too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? + +PETER +I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon +should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare +draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a +good quarrel, and the law on my side. + +Nurse +Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about +me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: +and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you +out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: +but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into +a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross +kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman +is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double +with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered +to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. + +ROMEO +Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I +protest unto thee-- + +Nurse +Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: +Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. + +ROMEO +What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. + +Nurse +I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as +I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. + +ROMEO +Bid her devise +Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; +And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell +Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. + +Nurse +No truly sir; not a penny. + +ROMEO +Go to; I say you shall. + +Nurse +This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. + +ROMEO +And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: +Within this hour my man shall be with thee +And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; +Which to the high top-gallant of my joy +Must be my convoy in the secret night. +Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: +Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. + +Nurse +Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. + +ROMEO +What say'st thou, my dear nurse? + +Nurse +Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, +Two may keep counsel, putting one away? + +ROMEO +I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. + +NURSE +Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, +Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there +is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain +lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief +see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her +sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer +man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks +as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not +rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? + +ROMEO +Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. + +Nurse +Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for +the--No; I know it begins with some other +letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of +it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good +to hear it. + +ROMEO +Commend me to thy lady. + +Nurse +Ay, a thousand times. + +Exit Romeo + +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; +In half an hour she promised to return. +Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. +O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, +Driving back shadows over louring hills: +Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. +Now is the sun upon the highmost hill +Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve +Is three long hours, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warm youthful blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball; +My words would bandy her to my sweet love, +And his to me: +But old folks, many feign as they were dead; +Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. +O God, she comes! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +O honey nurse, what news? +Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. + +Nurse +Peter, stay at the gate. + +Exit PETER + +JULIET +Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? +Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; +If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news +By playing it to me with so sour a face. + +Nurse +I am a-weary, give me leave awhile: +Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! + +JULIET +I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: +Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. + +Nurse +Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + +JULIET +How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath +To say to me that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay +Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; +Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: +Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? + +Nurse +Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not +how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his +face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels +all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, +though they be not to be talked on, yet they are +past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, +but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy +ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home? + +JULIET +No, no: but all this did I know before. +What says he of our marriage? what of that? + +Nurse +Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! +It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. +My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back! +Beshrew your heart for sending me about, +To catch my death with jaunting up and down! + +JULIET +I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. +Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? + +Nurse +Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a +courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I +warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother? + +JULIET +Where is my mother! why, she is within; +Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! +'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, +Where is your mother?' + +Nurse +O God's lady dear! +Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; +Is this the poultice for my aching bones? +Henceforward do your messages yourself. + +JULIET +Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? + +Nurse +Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? + +JULIET +I have. + +Nurse +Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell; +There stays a husband to make you a wife: +Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, +They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. +Hie you to church; I must another way, +To fetch a ladder, by the which your love +Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: +I am the drudge and toil in your delight, +But you shall bear the burden soon at night. +Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. + +JULIET +Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO +FRIAR LAURENCE +So smile the heavens upon this holy act, +That after hours with sorrow chide us not! + +ROMEO +Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, +It cannot countervail the exchange of joy +That one short minute gives me in her sight: +Do thou but close our hands with holy words, +Then love-devouring death do what he dare; +It is enough I may but call her mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +These violent delights have violent ends +And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, +Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his own deliciousness +And in the taste confounds the appetite: +Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; +Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. + +Enter JULIET + +Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot +Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: +A lover may bestride the gossamer +That idles in the wanton summer air, +And yet not fall; so light is vanity. + +JULIET +Good even to my ghostly confessor. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. + +JULIET +As much to him, else is his thanks too much. + +ROMEO +Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy +Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more +To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue +Unfold the imagined happiness that both +Receive in either by this dear encounter. + +JULIET +Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, +Brags of his substance, not of ornament: +They are but beggars that can count their worth; +But my true love is grown to such excess +I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, come with me, and we will make short work; +For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone +Till holy church incorporate two in one. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A public place. + +Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants +BENVOLIO +I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: +The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, +And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; +For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. + +MERCUTIO +Thou art like one of those fellows that when he +enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword +upon the table and says 'God send me no need of +thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws +it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. + +BENVOLIO +Am I like such a fellow? + +MERCUTIO +Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as +any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as +soon moody to be moved. + +BENVOLIO +And what to? + +MERCUTIO +Nay, an there were two such, we should have none +shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, +thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, +or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou +wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no +other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what +eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? +Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of +meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as +an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a +man for coughing in the street, because he hath +wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: +didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing +his new doublet before Easter? with another, for +tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou +wilt tutor me from quarrelling! + +BENVOLIO +An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man +should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. + +MERCUTIO +The fee-simple! O simple! + +BENVOLIO +By my head, here come the Capulets. + +MERCUTIO +By my heel, I care not. + +Enter TYBALT and others + +TYBALT +Follow me close, for I will speak to them. +Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. + +MERCUTIO +And but one word with one of us? couple it with +something; make it a word and a blow. + +TYBALT +You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you +will give me occasion. + +MERCUTIO +Could you not take some occasion without giving? + +TYBALT +Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- + +MERCUTIO +Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an +thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but +discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall +make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! + +BENVOLIO +We talk here in the public haunt of men: +Either withdraw unto some private place, +And reason coldly of your grievances, +Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. + +MERCUTIO +Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; +I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. + +Enter ROMEO + +TYBALT +Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man. + +MERCUTIO +But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: +Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; +Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' + +TYBALT +Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford +No better term than this,--thou art a villain. + +ROMEO +Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting: villain am I none; +Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not. + +TYBALT +Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries +That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw. + +ROMEO +I do protest, I never injured thee, +But love thee better than thou canst devise, +Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: +And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender +As dearly as my own,--be satisfied. + +MERCUTIO +O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! +Alla stoccata carries it away. + +Draws + +Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? + +TYBALT +What wouldst thou have with me? + +MERCUTIO +Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine +lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you +shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the +eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher +by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your +ears ere it be out. + +TYBALT +I am for you. + +Drawing + +ROMEO +Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. + +MERCUTIO +Come, sir, your passado. + +They fight + +ROMEO +Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. +Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! +Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath +Forbidden bandying in Verona streets: +Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! + +TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers + +MERCUTIO +I am hurt. +A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. +Is he gone, and hath nothing? + +BENVOLIO +What, art thou hurt? + +MERCUTIO +Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. +Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. + +Exit Page + +ROMEO +Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. + +MERCUTIO +No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for +me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I +am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' +both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a +cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a +rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of +arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I +was hurt under your arm. + +ROMEO +I thought all for the best. + +MERCUTIO +Help me into some house, Benvolio, +Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! +They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, +And soundly too: your houses! + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +ROMEO +This gentleman, the prince's near ally, +My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt +In my behalf; my reputation stain'd +With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour +Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, +Thy beauty hath made me effeminate +And in my temper soften'd valour's steel! + +Re-enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! +That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, +Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. + +ROMEO +This day's black fate on more days doth depend; +This but begins the woe, others must end. + +BENVOLIO +Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. + +ROMEO +Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! +Away to heaven, respective lenity, +And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! + +Re-enter TYBALT + +Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, +That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul +Is but a little way above our heads, +Staying for thine to keep him company: +Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. + +TYBALT +Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, +Shalt with him hence. + +ROMEO +This shall determine that. + +They fight; TYBALT falls + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, away, be gone! +The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. +Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, +If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! + +ROMEO +O, I am fortune's fool! + +BENVOLIO +Why dost thou stay? + +Exit ROMEO + +Enter Citizens, & c + +First Citizen +Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? +Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? + +BENVOLIO +There lies that Tybalt. + +First Citizen +Up, sir, go with me; +I charge thee in the princes name, obey. + +Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others + +PRINCE +Where are the vile beginners of this fray? + +BENVOLIO +O noble prince, I can discover all +The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: +There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. + +LADY CAPULET +Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! +O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt +O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, +For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. +O cousin, cousin! + +PRINCE +Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; +Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink +How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal +Your high displeasure: all this uttered +With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, +Could not take truce with the unruly spleen +Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts +With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, +And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats +Cold death aside, and with the other sends +It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, +Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, +'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than +his tongue, +His agile arm beats down their fatal points, +And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm +An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; +But by and by comes back to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, +And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I +Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. +And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. +This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. + +LADY CAPULET +He is a kinsman to the Montague; +Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: +Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; +Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. + +PRINCE +Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; +Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? + +MONTAGUE +Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; +His fault concludes but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt. + +PRINCE +And for that offence +Immediately we do exile him hence: +I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, +My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; +But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine +That you shall all repent the loss of mine: +I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; +Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: +Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, +Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. +Bear hence this body and attend our will: +Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, +Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner +As Phaethon would whip you to the west, +And bring in cloudy night immediately. +Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, +That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo +Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. +Lovers can see to do their amorous rites +By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, +It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, +Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, +And learn me how to lose a winning match, +Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: +Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, +With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, +Think true love acted simple modesty. +Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; +For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night +Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. +Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, +Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little stars, +And he will make the face of heaven so fine +That all the world will be in love with night +And pay no worship to the garish sun. +O, I have bought the mansion of a love, +But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold, +Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day +As is the night before some festival +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, +And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks +But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. + +Enter Nurse, with cords + +Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords +That Romeo bid thee fetch? + +Nurse +Ay, ay, the cords. + +Throws them down + +JULIET +Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? + +Nurse +Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! +We are undone, lady, we are undone! +Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! + +JULIET +Can heaven be so envious? + +Nurse +Romeo can, +Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo! +Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! + +JULIET +What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. +Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,' +And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more +Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: +I am not I, if there be such an I; +Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' +If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no: +Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. + +Nurse +I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-- +God save the mark!--here on his manly breast: +A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, +All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight. + +JULIET +O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! +To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! +Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here; +And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! + +Nurse +O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! +O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! +That ever I should live to see thee dead! + +JULIET +What storm is this that blows so contrary? +Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? +My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? +Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! +For who is living, if those two are gone? + +Nurse +Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; +Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. + +JULIET +O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? + +Nurse +It did, it did; alas the day, it did! + +JULIET +O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! +Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? +Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! +Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! +Despised substance of divinest show! +Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, +A damned saint, an honourable villain! +O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, +When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend +In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was ever book containing such vile matter +So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous palace! + +Nurse +There's no trust, +No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, +All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. +Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: +These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. +Shame come to Romeo! + +JULIET +Blister'd be thy tongue +For such a wish! he was not born to shame: +Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; +For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd +Sole monarch of the universal earth. +O, what a beast was I to chide at him! + +Nurse +Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? + +JULIET +Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? +Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, +When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? +But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? +That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: +Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; +Your tributary drops belong to woe, +Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. +My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; +And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: +All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? +Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, +That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; +But, O, it presses to my memory, +Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: +'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;' +That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' +Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death +Was woe enough, if it had ended there: +Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship +And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, +Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' +Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, +Which modern lamentations might have moved? +But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, +'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word, +Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, +All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!' +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. +Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? + +Nurse +Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse: +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. + +JULIET +Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, +When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. +Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, +Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: +He made you for a highway to my bed; +But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. +Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed; +And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! + +Nurse +Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo +To comfort you: I wot well where he is. +Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: +I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. + +JULIET +O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, +And bid him come to take his last farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: +Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, +And thou art wedded to calamity. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? +What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, +That I yet know not? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Too familiar +Is my dear son with such sour company: +I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. + +ROMEO +What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, +Not body's death, but body's banishment. + +ROMEO +Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' +For exile hath more terror in his look, +Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hence from Verona art thou banished: +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. + +ROMEO +There is no world without Verona walls, +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, +And world's exile is death: then banished, +Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, +Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, +And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! +Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, +Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, +And turn'd that black word death to banishment: +This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. + +ROMEO +'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, +Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog +And little mouse, every unworthy thing, +Live here in heaven and may look on her; +But Romeo may not: more validity, +More honourable state, more courtship lives +In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize +On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand +And steal immortal blessing from her lips, +Who even in pure and vestal modesty, +Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; +But Romeo may not; he is banished: +Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: +They are free men, but I am banished. +And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? +Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, +No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, +But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? +O friar, the damned use that word in hell; +Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, +Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, +A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, +To mangle me with that word 'banished'? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. + +ROMEO +O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: +Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished. + +ROMEO +Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! +Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, +Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, +It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, then I see that madmen have no ears. + +ROMEO +How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. + +ROMEO +Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: +Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, +An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me and like me banished, +Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, +And fall upon the ground, as I do now, +Taking the measure of an unmade grave. + +Knocking within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. + +ROMEO +Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, +Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. + +Knocking + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; +Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; + +Knocking + +Run to my study. By and by! God's will, +What simpleness is this! I come, I come! + +Knocking + +Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? + +Nurse +[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know +my errand; +I come from Lady Juliet. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Welcome, then. + +Enter Nurse + +Nurse +O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, +Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. + +Nurse +O, he is even in my mistress' case, +Just in her case! O woful sympathy! +Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, +Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. +Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: +For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; +Why should you fall into so deep an O? + +ROMEO +Nurse! + +Nurse +Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. + +ROMEO +Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? +Doth she not think me an old murderer, +Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy +With blood removed but little from her own? +Where is she? and how doth she? and what says +My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? + +Nurse +O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; +And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, +And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, +And then down falls again. + +ROMEO +As if that name, +Shot from the deadly level of a gun, +Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand +Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, +In what vile part of this anatomy +Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack +The hateful mansion. + +Drawing his sword + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold thy desperate hand: +Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: +Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote +The unreasonable fury of a beast: +Unseemly woman in a seeming man! +Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! +Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better temper'd. +Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? +And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, +By doing damned hate upon thyself? +Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? +Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet +In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. +Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; +Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, +And usest none in that true use indeed +Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: +Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, +Digressing from the valour of a man; +Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, +Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; +Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, +Misshapen in the conduct of them both, +Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, +Is set afire by thine own ignorance, +And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. +What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, +For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; +There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: +The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend +And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: +A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; +Happiness courts thee in her best array; +But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, +Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, +Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: +But look thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; +Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, +Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back +With twenty hundred thousand times more joy +Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. +Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: +Romeo is coming. + +Nurse +O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night +To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! +My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. + +ROMEO +Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. + +Nurse +Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: +Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. + +Exit + +ROMEO +How well my comfort is revived by this! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: +Either be gone before the watch be set, +Or by the break of day disguised from hence: +Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, +And he shall signify from time to time +Every good hap to you that chances here: +Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. + +ROMEO +But that a joy past joy calls out on me, +It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS +CAPULET +Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, +That we have had no time to move our daughter: +Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, +And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. +'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: +I promise you, but for your company, +I would have been a-bed an hour ago. + +PARIS +These times of woe afford no time to woo. +Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. + +LADY CAPULET +I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; +To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness. + +CAPULET +Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled +In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. +Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; +Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; +And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-- +But, soft! what day is this? + +PARIS +Monday, my lord, + +CAPULET +Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, +O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, +She shall be married to this noble earl. +Will you be ready? do you like this haste? +We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; +For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, +It may be thought we held him carelessly, +Being our kinsman, if we revel much: +Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + +PARIS +My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. + +CAPULET +Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then. +Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, +Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. +Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! +Afore me! it is so very very late, +That we may call it early by and by. +Good night. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window +JULIET +Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: +It was the nightingale, and not the lark, +That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; +Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: +Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. + +ROMEO +It was the lark, the herald of the morn, +No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks +Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: +Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day +Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. +I must be gone and live, or stay and die. + +JULIET +Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: +It is some meteor that the sun exhales, +To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, +And light thee on thy way to Mantua: +Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. + +ROMEO +Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; +I am content, so thou wilt have it so. +I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, +'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; +Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat +The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: +I have more care to stay than will to go: +Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. +How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. + +JULIET +It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! +It is the lark that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. +Some say the lark makes sweet division; +This doth not so, for she divideth us: +Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, +O, now I would they had changed voices too! +Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, +Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, +O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. + +ROMEO +More light and light; more dark and dark our woes! + +Enter Nurse, to the chamber + +Nurse +Madam! + +JULIET +Nurse? + +Nurse +Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: +The day is broke; be wary, look about. + +Exit + +JULIET +Then, window, let day in, and let life out. + +ROMEO +Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. + +He goeth down + +JULIET +Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! +I must hear from thee every day in the hour, +For in a minute there are many days: +O, by this count I shall be much in years +Ere I again behold my Romeo! + +ROMEO +Farewell! +I will omit no opportunity +That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + +JULIET +O think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + +ROMEO +I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve +For sweet discourses in our time to come. + +JULIET +O God, I have an ill-divining soul! +Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, +As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: +Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. + +ROMEO +And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: +Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! + +Exit + +JULIET +O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: +If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. +That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; +For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, +But send him back. + +LADY CAPULET +[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up? + +JULIET +Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? +Is she not down so late, or up so early? +What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +Why, how now, Juliet! + +JULIET +Madam, I am not well. + +LADY CAPULET +Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? +What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? +An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; +Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; +But much of grief shows still some want of wit. + +JULIET +Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. + +LADY CAPULET +So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend +Which you weep for. + +JULIET +Feeling so the loss, +Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, +As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. + +JULIET +What villain madam? + +LADY CAPULET +That same villain, Romeo. + +JULIET +[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- +God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; +And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. + +LADY CAPULET +That is, because the traitor murderer lives. + +JULIET +Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: +Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! + +LADY CAPULET +We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: +Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, +Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, +That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: +And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. + +JULIET +Indeed, I never shall be satisfied +With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- +Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To bear a poison, I would temper it; +That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, +Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors +To hear him named, and cannot come to him. +To wreak the love I bore my cousin +Upon his body that slaughter'd him! + +LADY CAPULET +Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. +But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. + +JULIET +And joy comes well in such a needy time: +What are they, I beseech your ladyship? + +LADY CAPULET +Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; +One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, +That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for. + +JULIET +Madam, in happy time, what day is that? + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, +The gallant, young and noble gentleman, +The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, +Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. + +JULIET +Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a joyful bride. +I wonder at this haste; that I must wed +Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. +I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, +I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, +Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! + +LADY CAPULET +Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, +And see how he will take it at your hands. + +Enter CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; +But for the sunset of my brother's son +It rains downright. +How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? +Evermore showering? In one little body +Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; +For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, +Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, +Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; +Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, +Without a sudden calm, will overset +Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! +Have you deliver'd to her our decree? + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. +I would the fool were married to her grave! + +CAPULET +Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. +How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? +Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, +Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought +So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? + +JULIET +Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: +Proud can I never be of what I hate; +But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. + +CAPULET +How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? +'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' +And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, +Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, +To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, +Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. +Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! +You tallow-face! + +LADY CAPULET +Fie, fie! what, are you mad? + +JULIET +Good father, I beseech you on my knees, +Hear me with patience but to speak a word. + +CAPULET +Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! +I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, +Or never after look me in the face: +Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; +My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest +That God had lent us but this only child; +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we have a curse in having her: +Out on her, hilding! + +Nurse +God in heaven bless her! +You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. + +CAPULET +And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, +Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. + +Nurse +I speak no treason. + +CAPULET +O, God ye god-den. + +Nurse +May not one speak? + +CAPULET +Peace, you mumbling fool! +Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; +For here we need it not. + +LADY CAPULET +You are too hot. + +CAPULET +God's bread! it makes me mad: +Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, +Alone, in company, still my care hath been +To have her match'd: and having now provided +A gentleman of noble parentage, +Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, +Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, +Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; +And then to have a wretched puling fool, +A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, +To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, +I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' +But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: +Graze where you will you shall not house with me: +Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. +Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: +An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; +And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in +the streets, +For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: +Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. + +Exit + +JULIET +Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, +That sees into the bottom of my grief? +O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! +Delay this marriage for a month, a week; +Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed +In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. + +LADY CAPULET +Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: +Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. + +Exit + +JULIET +O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? +My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; +How shall that faith return again to earth, +Unless that husband send it me from heaven +By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. +Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems +Upon so soft a subject as myself! +What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? +Some comfort, nurse. + +Nurse +Faith, here it is. +Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, +That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; +Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, +I think it best you married with the county. +O, he's a lovely gentleman! +Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, +Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye +As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, +I think you are happy in this second match, +For it excels your first: or if it did not, +Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were, +As living here and you no use of him. + +JULIET +Speakest thou from thy heart? + +Nurse +And from my soul too; +Or else beshrew them both. + +JULIET +Amen! + +Nurse +What? + +JULIET +Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. +Go in: and tell my lady I am gone, +Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, +To make confession and to be absolved. + +Nurse +Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. + +Exit + +JULIET +Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! +Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, +Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue +Which she hath praised him with above compare +So many thousand times? Go, counsellor; +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. +I'll to the friar, to know his remedy: +If all else fail, myself have power to die. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS +FRIAR LAURENCE +On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. + +PARIS +My father Capulet will have it so; +And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +You say you do not know the lady's mind: +Uneven is the course, I like it not. + +PARIS +Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, +And therefore have I little talk'd of love; +For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. +Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous +That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, +And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, +To stop the inundation of her tears; +Which, too much minded by herself alone, +May be put from her by society: +Now do you know the reason of this haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. +Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. + +Enter JULIET + +PARIS +Happily met, my lady and my wife! + +JULIET +That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. + +PARIS +That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. + +JULIET +What must be shall be. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's a certain text. + +PARIS +Come you to make confession to this father? + +JULIET +To answer that, I should confess to you. + +PARIS +Do not deny to him that you love me. + +JULIET +I will confess to you that I love him. + +PARIS +So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. + +JULIET +If I do so, it will be of more price, +Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. + +PARIS +Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. + +JULIET +The tears have got small victory by that; +For it was bad enough before their spite. + +PARIS +Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. + +JULIET +That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; +And what I spake, I spake it to my face. + +PARIS +Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. + +JULIET +It may be so, for it is not mine own. +Are you at leisure, holy father, now; +Or shall I come to you at evening mass? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. +My lord, we must entreat the time alone. + +PARIS +God shield I should disturb devotion! +Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye: +Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. + +Exit + +JULIET +O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, +Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; +It strains me past the compass of my wits: +I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this county. + +JULIET +Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, +Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: +If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife I'll help it presently. +God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; +And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, +Shall be the label to another deed, +Or my true heart with treacherous revolt +Turn to another, this shall slay them both: +Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, +Give me some present counsel, or, behold, +'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife +Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that +Which the commission of thy years and art +Could to no issue of true honour bring. +Be not so long to speak; I long to die, +If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, +Which craves as desperate an execution. +As that is desperate which we would prevent. +If, rather than to marry County Paris, +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, +Then is it likely thou wilt undertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That copest with death himself to scape from it: +And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. + +JULIET +O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, +From off the battlements of yonder tower; +Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk +Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; +Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, +O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, +With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; +Or bid me go into a new-made grave +And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; +Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; +And I will do it without fear or doubt, +To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent +To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: +To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; +Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: +Take thou this vial, being then in bed, +And this distilled liquor drink thou off; +When presently through all thy veins shall run +A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse +Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: +No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; +The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade +To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, +Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; +Each part, deprived of supple government, +Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: +And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death +Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, +And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. +Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes +To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: +Then, as the manner of our country is, +In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. +In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come: and he and I +Will watch thy waking, and that very night +Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame; +If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear, +Abate thy valour in the acting it. + +JULIET +Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous +In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed +To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. + +JULIET +Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford. +Farewell, dear father! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen +CAPULET +So many guests invite as here are writ. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. + +Second Servant +You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they +can lick their fingers. + +CAPULET +How canst thou try them so? + +Second Servant +Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his +own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his +fingers goes not with me. + +CAPULET +Go, be gone. + +Exit Second Servant + +We shall be much unfurnished for this time. +What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? + +Nurse +Ay, forsooth. + +CAPULET +Well, he may chance to do some good on her: +A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. + +Nurse +See where she comes from shrift with merry look. + +Enter JULIET + +CAPULET +How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? + +JULIET +Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition +To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd +By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, +And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! +Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. + +CAPULET +Send for the county; go tell him of this: +I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. + +JULIET +I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; +And gave him what becomed love I might, +Not step o'er the bounds of modesty. + +CAPULET +Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up: +This is as't should be. Let me see the county; +Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. +Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar, +Our whole city is much bound to him. + +JULIET +Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, +To help me sort such needful ornaments +As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? + +LADY CAPULET +No, not till Thursday; there is time enough. + +CAPULET +Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow. + +Exeunt JULIET and Nurse + +LADY CAPULET +We shall be short in our provision: +'Tis now near night. + +CAPULET +Tush, I will stir about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife: +Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; +I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone; +I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! +They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself +To County Paris, to prepare him up +Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, +Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter JULIET and Nurse +JULIET +Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, +I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, +For I have need of many orisons +To move the heavens to smile upon my state, +Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin. + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What, are you busy, ho? need you my help? + +JULIET +No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries +As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: +So please you, let me now be left alone, +And let the nurse this night sit up with you; +For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, +In this so sudden business. + +LADY CAPULET +Good night: +Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +JULIET +Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. +I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, +That almost freezes up the heat of life: +I'll call them back again to comfort me: +Nurse! What should she do here? +My dismal scene I needs must act alone. +Come, vial. +What if this mixture do not work at all? +Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? +No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. + +Laying down her dagger + +What if it be a poison, which the friar +Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, +Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, +For he hath still been tried a holy man. +How if, when I am laid into the tomb, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! +Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, +To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? +Or, if I live, is it not very like, +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place,-- +As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, +Where, for these many hundred years, the bones +Of all my buried ancestors are packed: +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, +Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, +At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- +Alack, alack, is it not like that I, +So early waking, what with loathsome smells, +And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, +That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- +O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Environed with all these hideous fears? +And madly play with my forefather's joints? +And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? +And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, +As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? +O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost +Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body +Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! +Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. + +She falls upon her bed, within the curtains + +SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. + +Nurse +They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd, +The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: +Look to the baked meats, good Angelica: +Spare not for the cost. + +Nurse +Go, you cot-quean, go, +Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow +For this night's watching. + +CAPULET +No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now +All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; +But I will watch you from such watching now. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +A jealous hood, a jealous hood! + +Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets + +Now, fellow, +What's there? + +First Servant +Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. + +CAPULET +Make haste, make haste. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, fetch drier logs: +Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. + +Second Servant +I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, +And never trouble Peter for the matter. + +Exit + +CAPULET +Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! +Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day: +The county will be here with music straight, +For so he said he would: I hear him near. + +Music within + +Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say! + +Re-enter Nurse + +Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; +I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, +Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already: +Make haste, I say. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter Nurse +Nurse +Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: +Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed! +Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride! +What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now; +Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, +The County Paris hath set up his rest, +That you shall rest but little. God forgive me, +Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! +I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam! +Ay, let the county take you in your bed; +He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be? + +Undraws the curtains + +What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! +I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady! +Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead! +O, well-a-day, that ever I was born! +Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady! + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What noise is here? + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +What is the matter? + +Nurse +Look, look! O heavy day! + +LADY CAPULET +O me, O me! My child, my only life, +Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! +Help, help! Call help. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. + +Nurse +She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day! + +LADY CAPULET +Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! + +CAPULET +Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold: +Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; +Life and these lips have long been separated: +Death lies on her like an untimely frost +Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +O woful time! + +CAPULET +Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, +Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, is the bride ready to go to church? + +CAPULET +Ready to go, but never to return. +O son! the night before thy wedding-day +Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowered by him. +Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; +My daughter he hath wedded: I will die, +And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's. + +PARIS +Have I thought long to see this morning's face, +And doth it give me such a sight as this? + +LADY CAPULET +Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! +Most miserable hour that e'er time saw +In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! +But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, +But one thing to rejoice and solace in, +And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! + +Nurse +O woe! O woful, woful, woful day! +Most lamentable day, most woful day, +That ever, ever, I did yet behold! +O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! +Never was seen so black a day as this: +O woful day, O woful day! + +PARIS +Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! +Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, +By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! +O love! O life! not life, but love in death! + +CAPULET +Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! +Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now +To murder, murder our solemnity? +O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! +Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; +And with my child my joys are buried. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not +In these confusions. Heaven and yourself +Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, +And all the better is it for the maid: +Your part in her you could not keep from death, +But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. +The most you sought was her promotion; +For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced: +And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced +Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? +O, in this love, you love your child so ill, +That you run mad, seeing that she is well: +She's not well married that lives married long; +But she's best married that dies married young. +Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary +On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, +In all her best array bear her to church: +For though fond nature bids us an lament, +Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. + +CAPULET +All things that we ordained festival, +Turn from their office to black funeral; +Our instruments to melancholy bells, +Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, +Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, +Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, +And all things change them to the contrary. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him; +And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare +To follow this fair corse unto her grave: +The heavens do lour upon you for some ill; +Move them no more by crossing their high will. + +Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE + +First Musician +Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. + +Nurse +Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up; +For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. + +Exit + +First Musician +Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. + +Enter PETER + +PETER +Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's +ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.' + +First Musician +Why 'Heart's ease?' + +PETER +O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My +heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump, +to comfort me. + +First Musician +Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. + +PETER +You will not, then? + +First Musician +No. + +PETER +I will then give it you soundly. + +First Musician +What will you give us? + +PETER +No money, on my faith, but the gleek; +I will give you the minstrel. + +First Musician +Then I will give you the serving-creature. + +PETER +Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on +your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, +I'll fa you; do you note me? + +First Musician +An you re us and fa us, you note us. + +Second Musician +Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. + +PETER +Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you +with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer +me like men: +'When griping grief the heart doth wound, +And doleful dumps the mind oppress, +Then music with her silver sound'-- +why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver +sound'? What say you, Simon Catling? + +Musician +Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. + +PETER +Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? + +Second Musician +I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver. + +PETER +Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost? + +Third Musician +Faith, I know not what to say. + +PETER +O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say +for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,' +because musicians have no gold for sounding: +'Then music with her silver sound +With speedy help doth lend redress.' + +Exit + +First Musician +What a pestilent knave is this same! + +Second Musician +Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the +mourners, and stay dinner. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Mantua. A street. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, +My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: +My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; +And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit +Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. +I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- +Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave +to think!-- +And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, +That I revived, and was an emperor. +Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, +When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! + +Enter BALTHASAR, booted + +News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! +Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? +How doth my lady? Is my father well? +How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; +For nothing can be ill, if she be well. + +BALTHASAR +Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: +Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, +And her immortal part with angels lives. +I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, +And presently took post to tell it you: +O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, +Since you did leave it for my office, sir. + +ROMEO +Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! +Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, +And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. + +BALTHASAR +I do beseech you, sir, have patience: +Your looks are pale and wild, and do import +Some misadventure. + +ROMEO +Tush, thou art deceived: +Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? + +BALTHASAR +No, my good lord. + +ROMEO +No matter: get thee gone, +And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. + +Exit BALTHASAR + +Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. +Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! +I do remember an apothecary,-- +And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted +In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, +Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, +Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: +And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, +An alligator stuff'd, and other skins +Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves +A beggarly account of empty boxes, +Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, +Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, +Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. +Noting this penury, to myself I said +'An if a man did need a poison now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' +O, this same thought did but forerun my need; +And this same needy man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house. +Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. +What, ho! apothecary! + +Enter Apothecary + +Apothecary +Who calls so loud? + +ROMEO +Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor: +Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have +A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear +As will disperse itself through all the veins +That the life-weary taker may fall dead +And that the trunk may be discharged of breath +As violently as hasty powder fired +Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. + +Apothecary +Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law +Is death to any he that utters them. + +ROMEO +Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, +And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, +Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, +Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; +The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; +The world affords no law to make thee rich; +Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. + +Apothecary +My poverty, but not my will, consents. + +ROMEO +I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. + +Apothecary +Put this in any liquid thing you will, +And drink it off; and, if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. + +ROMEO +There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, +Doing more murders in this loathsome world, +Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. +I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. +Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. +Come, cordial and not poison, go with me +To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR JOHN +FRIAR JOHN +Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE + +FRIAR LAURENCE +This same should be the voice of Friar John. +Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? +Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. + +FRIAR JOHN +Going to find a bare-foot brother out +One of our order, to associate me, +Here in this city visiting the sick, +And finding him, the searchers of the town, +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did reign, +Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; +So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo? + +FRIAR JOHN +I could not send it,--here it is again,-- +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearful were they of infection. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, +The letter was not nice but full of charge +Of dear import, and the neglecting it +May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; +Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight +Unto my cell. + +FRIAR JOHN +Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. + +Exit + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Now must I to the monument alone; +Within three hours will fair Juliet wake: +She will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents; +But I will write again to Mantua, +And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; +Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets. + +Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch +PARIS +Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: +Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. +Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, +Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; +So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, +Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves, +But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, +As signal that thou hear'st something approach. +Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. + +PAGE +[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. + +Retires + +PARIS +Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,-- +O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;-- +Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, +Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: +The obsequies that I for thee will keep +Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. + +The Page whistles + +The boy gives warning something doth approach. +What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, +To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? +What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. + +Retires + +Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c + +ROMEO +Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. +Hold, take this letter; early in the morning +See thou deliver it to my lord and father. +Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, +Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death, +Is partly to behold my lady's face; +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger +A precious ring, a ring that I must use +In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: +But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry +In what I further shall intend to do, +By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint +And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: +The time and my intents are savage-wild, +More fierce and more inexorable far +Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. + +BALTHASAR +I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +ROMEO +So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: +Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. + +BALTHASAR +[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: +His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. + +Retires + +ROMEO +Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, +Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, +Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, +And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! + +Opens the tomb + +PARIS +This is that banish'd haughty Montague, +That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, +It is supposed, the fair creature died; +And here is come to do some villanous shame +To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. + +Comes forward + +Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! +Can vengeance be pursued further than death? +Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: +Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. + +ROMEO +I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; +Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, +Put not another sin upon my head, +By urging me to fury: O, be gone! +By heaven, I love thee better than myself; +For I come hither arm'd against myself: +Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, +A madman's mercy bade thee run away. + +PARIS +I do defy thy conjurations, +And apprehend thee for a felon here. + +ROMEO +Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! + +They fight + +PAGE +O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. + +Exit + +PARIS +O, I am slain! + +Falls + +If thou be merciful, +Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. + +Dies + +ROMEO +In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. +Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! +What said my man, when my betossed soul +Did not attend him as we rode? I think +He told me Paris should have married Juliet: +Said he not so? or did I dream it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, +To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, +One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! +I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; +A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, +For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes +This vault a feasting presence full of light. +Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. + +Laying PARIS in the tomb + +How oft when men are at the point of death +Have they been merry! which their keepers call +A lightning before death: O, how may I +Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! +Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: +Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet +Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, +And death's pale flag is not advanced there. +Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? +O, what more favour can I do to thee, +Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain +To sunder his that was thine enemy? +Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, +Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe +That unsubstantial death is amorous, +And that the lean abhorred monster keeps +Thee here in dark to be his paramour? +For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; +And never from this palace of dim night +Depart again: here, here will I remain +With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here +Will I set up my everlasting rest, +And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars +From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! +Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you +The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss +A dateless bargain to engrossing death! +Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! +Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on +The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! +Here's to my love! + +Drinks + +O true apothecary! +Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. + +Dies + +Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night +Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? + +BALTHASAR +Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, +What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light +To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, +It burneth in the Capel's monument. + +BALTHASAR +It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, +One that you love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who is it? + +BALTHASAR +Romeo. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +How long hath he been there? + +BALTHASAR +Full half an hour. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go with me to the vault. + +BALTHASAR +I dare not, sir +My master knows not but I am gone hence; +And fearfully did menace me with death, +If I did stay to look on his intents. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: +O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. + +BALTHASAR +As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, +I dreamt my master and another fought, +And that my master slew him. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo! + +Advances + +Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains +The stony entrance of this sepulchre? +What mean these masterless and gory swords +To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? + +Enters the tomb + +Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? +And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour +Is guilty of this lamentable chance! +The lady stirs. + +JULIET wakes + +JULIET +O comfortable friar! where is my lord? +I do remember well where I should be, +And there I am. Where is my Romeo? + +Noise within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: +A greater power than we can contradict +Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. +Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; +And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee +Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: +Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; +Come, go, good Juliet, + +Noise again + +I dare no longer stay. + +JULIET +Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. + +Exit FRIAR LAURENCE + +What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? +Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: +O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop +To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; +Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, +To make die with a restorative. + +Kisses him + +Thy lips are warm. + +First Watchman +[Within] Lead, boy: which way? + +JULIET +Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! + +Snatching ROMEO's dagger + +This is thy sheath; + +Stabs herself + +there rust, and let me die. + +Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies + +Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS + +PAGE +This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. + +First Watchman +The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: +Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. +Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, +And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, +Who here hath lain these two days buried. +Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: +Raise up the Montagues: some others search: +We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; +But the true ground of all these piteous woes +We cannot without circumstance descry. + +Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR + +Second Watchman +Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. + +First Watchman +Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. + +Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE + +Third Watchman +Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: +We took this mattock and this spade from him, +As he was coming from this churchyard side. + +First Watchman +A great suspicion: stay the friar too. + +Enter the PRINCE and Attendants + +PRINCE +What misadventure is so early up, +That calls our person from our morning's rest? + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others + +CAPULET +What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? + +LADY CAPULET +The people in the street cry Romeo, +Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, +With open outcry toward our monument. + +PRINCE +What fear is this which startles in our ears? + +First Watchman +Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; +And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, +Warm and new kill'd. + +PRINCE +Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. + +First Watchman +Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; +With instruments upon them, fit to open +These dead men's tombs. + +CAPULET +O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! +This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house +Is empty on the back of Montague,-- +And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! + +LADY CAPULET +O me! this sight of death is as a bell, +That warns my old age to a sepulchre. + +Enter MONTAGUE and others + +PRINCE +Come, Montague; for thou art early up, +To see thy son and heir more early down. + +MONTAGUE +Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; +Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: +What further woe conspires against mine age? + +PRINCE +Look, and thou shalt see. + +MONTAGUE +O thou untaught! what manners is in this? +To press before thy father to a grave? + +PRINCE +Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, +Till we can clear these ambiguities, +And know their spring, their head, their +true descent; +And then will I be general of your woes, +And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, +And let mischance be slave to patience. +Bring forth the parties of suspicion. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I am the greatest, able to do least, +Yet most suspected, as the time and place +Doth make against me of this direful murder; +And here I stand, both to impeach and purge +Myself condemned and myself excused. + +PRINCE +Then say at once what thou dost know in this. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I will be brief, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; +And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: +I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day +Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death +Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, +For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. +You, to remove that siege of grief from her, +Betroth'd and would have married her perforce +To County Paris: then comes she to me, +And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean +To rid her from this second marriage, +Or in my cell there would she kill herself. +Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, +A sleeping potion; which so took effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, +That he should hither come as this dire night, +To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, +Being the time the potion's force should cease. +But he which bore my letter, Friar John, +Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight +Return'd my letter back. Then all alone +At the prefixed hour of her waking, +Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; +Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, +Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: +But when I came, some minute ere the time +Of her awaking, here untimely lay +The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. +She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, +And bear this work of heaven with patience: +But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; +And she, too desperate, would not go with me, +But, as it seems, did violence on herself. +All this I know; and to the marriage +Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this +Miscarried by my fault, let my old life +Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, +Unto the rigour of severest law. + +PRINCE +We still have known thee for a holy man. +Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? + +BALTHASAR +I brought my master news of Juliet's death; +And then in post he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same monument. +This letter he early bid me give his father, +And threatened me with death, going in the vault, +I departed not and left him there. + +PRINCE +Give me the letter; I will look on it. +Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? +Sirrah, what made your master in this place? + +PAGE +He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; +And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: +Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; +And by and by my master drew on him; +And then I ran away to call the watch. + +PRINCE +This letter doth make good the friar's words, +Their course of love, the tidings of her death: +And here he writes that he did buy a poison +Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal +Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. +Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! +See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, +That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. +And I for winking at your discords too +Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. + +CAPULET +O brother Montague, give me thy hand: +This is my daughter's jointure, for no more +Can I demand. + +MONTAGUE +But I can give thee more: +For I will raise her statue in pure gold; +That while Verona by that name is known, +There shall no figure at such rate be set +As that of true and faithful Juliet. + +CAPULET +As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; +Poor sacrifices of our enmity! + +PRINCE +A glooming peace this morning with it brings; +The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: +Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; +Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: +For never was a story of more woe +Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. + +Exeunt +Antony and Cleopatra +Shakespeare homepage | Antony and Cleopatra | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO +PHILO +Nay, but this dotage of our general's +O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, +That o'er the files and musters of the war +Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, +The office and devotion of their view +Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, +Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst +The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper, +And is become the bellows and the fan +To cool a gipsy's lust. + +Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her + +Look, where they come: +Take but good note, and you shall see in him. +The triple pillar of the world transform'd +Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. + +CLEOPATRA +If it be love indeed, tell me how much. + +MARK ANTONY +There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. + +MARK ANTONY +Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +News, my good lord, from Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Grates me: the sum. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, hear them, Antony: +Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows +If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent +His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this; +Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; +Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' + +MARK ANTONY +How, my love! + +CLEOPATRA +Perchance! nay, and most like: +You must not stay here longer, your dismission +Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony. +Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both? +Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, +Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine +Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame +When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! + +MARK ANTONY +Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch +Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space. +Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike +Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life +Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair + +Embracing + +And such a twain can do't, in which I bind, +On pain of punishment, the world to weet +We stand up peerless. + +CLEOPATRA +Excellent falsehood! +Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? +I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony +Will be himself. + +MARK ANTONY +But stirr'd by Cleopatra. +Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, +Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: +There's not a minute of our lives should stretch +Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? + +CLEOPATRA +Hear the ambassadors. + +MARK ANTONY +Fie, wrangling queen! +Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, +To weep; whose every passion fully strives +To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! +No messenger, but thine; and all alone +To-night we'll wander through the streets and note +The qualities of people. Come, my queen; +Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with their train + +DEMETRIUS +Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? + +PHILO +Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, +He comes too short of that great property +Which still should go with Antony. + +DEMETRIUS +I am full sorry +That he approves the common liar, who +Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope +Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. Another room. + +Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer +CHARMIAN +Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, +almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer +that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew +this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns +with garlands! + +ALEXAS +Soothsayer! + +Soothsayer +Your will? + +CHARMIAN +Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? + +Soothsayer +In nature's infinite book of secrecy +A little I can read. + +ALEXAS +Show him your hand. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough +Cleopatra's health to drink. + +CHARMIAN +Good sir, give me good fortune. + +Soothsayer +I make not, but foresee. + +CHARMIAN +Pray, then, foresee me one. + +Soothsayer +You shall be yet far fairer than you are. + +CHARMIAN +He means in flesh. + +IRAS +No, you shall paint when you are old. + +CHARMIAN +Wrinkles forbid! + +ALEXAS +Vex not his prescience; be attentive. + +CHARMIAN +Hush! + +Soothsayer +You shall be more beloving than beloved. + +CHARMIAN +I had rather heat my liver with drinking. + +ALEXAS +Nay, hear him. + +CHARMIAN +Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married +to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: +let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry +may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius +Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. + +Soothsayer +You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. + +CHARMIAN +O excellent! I love long life better than figs. + +Soothsayer +You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune +Than that which is to approach. + +CHARMIAN +Then belike my children shall have no names: +prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? + +Soothsayer +If every of your wishes had a womb. +And fertile every wish, a million. + +CHARMIAN +Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. + +ALEXAS +You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, come, tell Iras hers. + +ALEXAS +We'll know all our fortunes. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall +be--drunk to bed. + +IRAS +There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. + +CHARMIAN +E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. + +IRAS +Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful +prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, +tell her but a worky-day fortune. + +Soothsayer +Your fortunes are alike. + +IRAS +But how, but how? give me particulars. + +Soothsayer +I have said. + +IRAS +Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? + +CHARMIAN +Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than +I, where would you choose it? + +IRAS +Not in my husband's nose. + +CHARMIAN +Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come, +his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman +that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let +her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst +follow worse, till the worst of all follow him +laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good +Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a +matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! + +IRAS +Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! +for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man +loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a +foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep +decorum, and fortune him accordingly! + +CHARMIAN +Amen. + +ALEXAS +Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a +cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but +they'ld do't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Hush! here comes Antony. + +CHARMIAN +Not he; the queen. + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +CLEOPATRA +Saw you my lord? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Was he not here? + +CHARMIAN +No, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden +A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Seek him, and bring him hither. +Where's Alexas? + +ALEXAS +Here, at your service. My lord approaches. + +CLEOPATRA +We will not look upon him: go with us. + +Exeunt + +Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants + +Messenger +Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. + +MARK ANTONY +Against my brother Lucius? + +Messenger +Ay: +But soon that war had end, and the time's state +Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar; +Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, +Upon the first encounter, drave them. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, what worst? + +Messenger +The nature of bad news infects the teller. + +MARK ANTONY +When it concerns the fool or coward. On: +Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus: +Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, +I hear him as he flatter'd. + +Messenger +Labienus-- +This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force, +Extended Asia from Euphrates; +His conquering banner shook from Syria +To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst-- + +MARK ANTONY +Antony, thou wouldst say,-- + +Messenger +O, my lord! + +MARK ANTONY +Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: +Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome; +Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults +With such full licence as both truth and malice +Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, +When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us +Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. + +Messenger +At your noble pleasure. + +Exit + +MARK ANTONY +From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! + +First Attendant +The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one? + +Second Attendant +He stays upon your will. + +MARK ANTONY +Let him appear. +These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, +Or lose myself in dotage. + +Enter another Messenger + +What are you? + +Second Messenger +Fulvia thy wife is dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Where died she? + +Second Messenger +In Sicyon: +Her length of sickness, with what else more serious +Importeth thee to know, this bears. + +Gives a letter + +MARK ANTONY +Forbear me. + +Exit Second Messenger + +There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: +What our contempt doth often hurl from us, +We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, +By revolution lowering, does become +The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; +The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. +I must from this enchanting queen break off: +Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, +My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus! + +Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's your pleasure, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +I must with haste from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, then, we kill all our women: +we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; +if they suffer our departure, death's the word. + +MARK ANTONY +I must be gone. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were +pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between +them and a great cause, they should be esteemed +nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of +this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty +times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is +mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon +her, she hath such a celerity in dying. + +MARK ANTONY +She is cunning past man's thought. + +Exit ALEXAS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but +the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her +winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater +storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this +cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a +shower of rain as well as Jove. + +MARK ANTONY +Would I had never seen her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece +of work; which not to have been blest withal would +have discredited your travel. + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir? + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Fulvia! + +MARK ANTONY +Dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When +it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man +from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; +comforting therein, that when old robes are worn +out, there are members to make new. If there were +no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, +and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned +with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new +petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion +that should water this sorrow. + +MARK ANTONY +The business she hath broached in the state +Cannot endure my absence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And the business you have broached here cannot be +without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which +wholly depends on your abode. + +MARK ANTONY +No more light answers. Let our officers +Have notice what we purpose. I shall break +The cause of our expedience to the queen, +And get her leave to part. For not alone +The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, +Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too +Of many our contriving friends in Rome +Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius +Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands +The empire of the sea: our slippery people, +Whose love is never link'd to the deserver +Till his deserts are past, begin to throw +Pompey the Great and all his dignities +Upon his son; who, high in name and power, +Higher than both in blood and life, stands up +For the main soldier: whose quality, going on, +The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding, +Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, +And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure, +To such whose place is under us, requires +Our quick remove from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall do't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Another room. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is he? + +CHARMIAN +I did not see him since. + +CLEOPATRA +See where he is, who's with him, what he does: +I did not send you: if you find him sad, +Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report +That I am sudden sick: quick, and return. + +Exit ALEXAS + +CHARMIAN +Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, +You do not hold the method to enforce +The like from him. + +CLEOPATRA +What should I do, I do not? + +CHARMIAN +In each thing give him way, cross him nothing. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. + +CHARMIAN +Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: +In time we hate that which we often fear. +But here comes Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY + +CLEOPATRA +I am sick and sullen. + +MARK ANTONY +I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: +It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature +Will not sustain it. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, my dearest queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, stand further from me. + +MARK ANTONY +What's the matter? + +CLEOPATRA +I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. +What says the married woman? You may go: +Would she had never given you leave to come! +Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here: +I have no power upon you; hers you are. + +MARK ANTONY +The gods best know,-- + +CLEOPATRA +O, never was there queen +So mightily betray'd! yet at the first +I saw the treasons planted. + +MARK ANTONY +Cleopatra,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Why should I think you can be mine and true, +Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, +Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, +To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, +Which break themselves in swearing! + +MARK ANTONY +Most sweet queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, +But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, +Then was the time for words: no going then; +Eternity was in our lips and eyes, +Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor, +But was a race of heaven: they are so still, +Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, +Art turn'd the greatest liar. + +MARK ANTONY +How now, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know +There were a heart in Egypt. + +MARK ANTONY +Hear me, queen: +The strong necessity of time commands +Our services awhile; but my full heart +Remains in use with you. Our Italy +Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius +Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: +Equality of two domestic powers +Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength, +Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, +Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace, +Into the hearts of such as have not thrived +Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; +And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge +By any desperate change: my more particular, +And that which most with you should safe my going, +Is Fulvia's death. + +CLEOPATRA +Though age from folly could not give me freedom, +It does from childishness: can Fulvia die? + +MARK ANTONY +She's dead, my queen: +Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read +The garboils she awaked; at the last, best: +See when and where she died. + +CLEOPATRA +O most false love! +Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill +With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, +In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. + +MARK ANTONY +Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know +The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, +As you shall give the advice. By the fire +That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence +Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war +As thou affect'st. + +CLEOPATRA +Cut my lace, Charmian, come; +But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, +So Antony loves. + +MARK ANTONY +My precious queen, forbear; +And give true evidence to his love, which stands +An honourable trial. + +CLEOPATRA +So Fulvia told me. +I prithee, turn aside and weep for her, +Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears +Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene +Of excellent dissembling; and let it look +Life perfect honour. + +MARK ANTONY +You'll heat my blood: no more. + +CLEOPATRA +You can do better yet; but this is meetly. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, by my sword,-- + +CLEOPATRA +And target. Still he mends; +But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, +How this Herculean Roman does become +The carriage of his chafe. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll leave you, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Courteous lord, one word. +Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: +Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it; +That you know well: something it is I would, +O, my oblivion is a very Antony, +And I am all forgotten. + +MARK ANTONY +But that your royalty +Holds idleness your subject, I should take you +For idleness itself. + +CLEOPATRA +'Tis sweating labour +To bear such idleness so near the heart +As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; +Since my becomings kill me, when they do not +Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence; +Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly. +And all the gods go with you! upon your sword +Sit laurel victory! and smooth success +Be strew'd before your feet! + +MARK ANTONY +Let us go. Come; +Our separation so abides, and flies, +That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, +And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS, and their Train +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, +It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate +Our great competitor: from Alexandria +This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes +The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like +Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy +More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or +Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there +A man who is the abstract of all faults +That all men follow. + +LEPIDUS +I must not think there are +Evils enow to darken all his goodness: +His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, +More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, +Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, +Than what he chooses. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not +Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; +To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit +And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; +To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet +With knaves that smell of sweat: say this +becomes him,-- +As his composure must be rare indeed +Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony +No way excuse his soils, when we do bear +So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd +His vacancy with his voluptuousness, +Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, +Call on him for't: but to confound such time, +That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud +As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid +As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, +Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, +And so rebel to judgment. + +Enter a Messenger + +LEPIDUS +Here's more news. + +Messenger +Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, +Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report +How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea; +And it appears he is beloved of those +That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports +The discontents repair, and men's reports +Give him much wrong'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I should have known no less. +It hath been taught us from the primal state, +That he which is was wish'd until he were; +And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love, +Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, +Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, +Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, +To rot itself with motion. + +Messenger +Caesar, I bring thee word, +Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, +Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound +With keels of every kind: many hot inroads +They make in Italy; the borders maritime +Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: +No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon +Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more +Than could his war resisted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Antony, +Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once +Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st +Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel +Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, +Though daintily brought up, with patience more +Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink +The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle +Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign +The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; +Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, +The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps +It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh, +Which some did die to look on: and all this-- +It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-- +Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek +So much as lank'd not. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis pity of him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let his shames quickly +Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain +Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end +Assemble we immediate council: Pompey +Thrives in our idleness. + +LEPIDUS +To-morrow, Caesar, +I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly +Both what by sea and land I can be able +To front this present time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Till which encounter, +It is my business too. Farewell. + +LEPIDUS +Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime +Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, +To let me be partaker. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Doubt not, sir; +I knew it for my bond. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Charmian! + +CHARMIAN +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Ha, ha! +Give me to drink mandragora. + +CHARMIAN +Why, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +That I might sleep out this great gap of time +My Antony is away. + +CHARMIAN +You think of him too much. + +CLEOPATRA +O, 'tis treason! + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I trust, not so. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou, eunuch Mardian! + +MARDIAN +What's your highness' pleasure? + +CLEOPATRA +Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure +In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee, +That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts +May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? + +MARDIAN +Yes, gracious madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed! + +MARDIAN +Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing +But what indeed is honest to be done: +Yet have I fierce affections, and think +What Venus did with Mars. + +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, +Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? +Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? +O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! +Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest? +The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm +And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, +Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?' +For so he calls me: now I feed myself +With most delicious poison. Think on me, +That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, +And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, +When thou wast here above the ground, I was +A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey +Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; +There would he anchor his aspect and die +With looking on his life. + +Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR + +ALEXAS +Sovereign of Egypt, hail! + +CLEOPATRA +How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! +Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath +With his tinct gilded thee. +How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? + +ALEXAS +Last thing he did, dear queen, +He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,-- +This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. + +CLEOPATRA +Mine ear must pluck it thence. + +ALEXAS +'Good friend,' quoth he, +'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends +This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, +To mend the petty present, I will piece +Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east, +Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded, +And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, +Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke +Was beastly dumb'd by him. + +CLEOPATRA +What, was he sad or merry? + +ALEXAS +Like to the time o' the year between the extremes +Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. + +CLEOPATRA +O well-divided disposition! Note him, +Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him: +He was not sad, for he would shine on those +That make their looks by his; he was not merry, +Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay +In Egypt with his joy; but between both: +O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry, +The violence of either thee becomes, +So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts? + +ALEXAS +Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: +Why do you send so thick? + +CLEOPATRA +Who's born that day +When I forget to send to Antony, +Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. +Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, +Ever love Caesar so? + +CHARMIAN +O that brave Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +Be choked with such another emphasis! +Say, the brave Antony. + +CHARMIAN +The valiant Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, +If thou with Caesar paragon again +My man of men. + +CHARMIAN +By your most gracious pardon, +I sing but after you. + +CLEOPATRA +My salad days, +When I was green in judgment: cold in blood, +To say as I said then! But, come, away; +Get me ink and paper: +He shall have every day a several greeting, +Or I'll unpeople Egypt. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Messina. POMPEY's house. + +Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike manner +POMPEY +If the great gods be just, they shall assist +The deeds of justest men. + +MENECRATES +Know, worthy Pompey, +That what they do delay, they not deny. + +POMPEY +Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays +The thing we sue for. + +MENECRATES +We, ignorant of ourselves, +Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers +Deny us for our good; so find we profit +By losing of our prayers. + +POMPEY +I shall do well: +The people love me, and the sea is mine; +My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope +Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony +In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make +No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where +He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, +Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, +Nor either cares for him. + +MENAS +Caesar and Lepidus +Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. + +POMPEY +Where have you this? 'tis false. + +MENAS +From Silvius, sir. + +POMPEY +He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, +Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, +Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip! +Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! +Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, +Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks +Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite; +That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour +Even till a Lethe'd dulness! + +Enter VARRIUS + +How now, Varrius! + +VARRIUS +This is most certain that I shall deliver: +Mark Antony is every hour in Rome +Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis +A space for further travel. + +POMPEY +I could have given less matter +A better ear. Menas, I did not think +This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm +For such a petty war: his soldiership +Is twice the other twain: but let us rear +The higher our opinion, that our stirring +Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck +The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony. + +MENAS +I cannot hope +Caesar and Antony shall well greet together: +His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; +His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, +Not moved by Antony. + +POMPEY +I know not, Menas, +How lesser enmities may give way to greater. +Were't not that we stand up against them all, +'Twere pregnant they should square between +themselves; +For they have entertained cause enough +To draw their swords: but how the fear of us +May cement their divisions and bind up +The petty difference, we yet not know. +Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands +Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. +Come, Menas. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. The house of LEPIDUS. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS +LEPIDUS +Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, +And shall become you well, to entreat your captain +To soft and gentle speech. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall entreat him +To answer like himself: if Caesar move him, +Let Antony look over Caesar's head +And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, +Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, +I would not shave't to-day. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis not a time +For private stomaching. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Every time +Serves for the matter that is then born in't. + +LEPIDUS +But small to greater matters must give way. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not if the small come first. + +LEPIDUS +Your speech is passion: +But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes +The noble Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And yonder, Caesar. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA + +MARK ANTONY +If we compose well here, to Parthia: +Hark, Ventidius. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not know, +Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. + +LEPIDUS +Noble friends, +That which combined us was most great, and let not +A leaner action rend us. What's amiss, +May it be gently heard: when we debate +Our trivial difference loud, we do commit +Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners, +The rather, for I earnestly beseech, +Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, +Nor curstness grow to the matter. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis spoken well. +Were we before our armies, and to fight. +I should do thus. + +Flourish + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome to Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Thank you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Sit. + +MARK ANTONY +Sit, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, then. + +MARK ANTONY +I learn, you take things ill which are not so, +Or being, concern you not. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I must be laugh'd at, +If, or for nothing or a little, I +Should say myself offended, and with you +Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should +Once name you derogately, when to sound your name +It not concern'd me. + +MARK ANTONY +My being in Egypt, Caesar, +What was't to you? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No more than my residing here at Rome +Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there +Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt +Might be my question. + +MARK ANTONY +How intend you, practised? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may be pleased to catch at mine intent +By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother +Made wars upon me; and their contestation +Was theme for you, you were the word of war. + +MARK ANTONY +You do mistake your business; my brother never +Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it; +And have my learning from some true reports, +That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather +Discredit my authority with yours; +And make the wars alike against my stomach, +Having alike your cause? Of this my letters +Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, +As matter whole you have not to make it with, +It must not be with this. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You praise yourself +By laying defects of judgment to me; but +You patch'd up your excuses. + +MARK ANTONY +Not so, not so; +I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, +Very necessity of this thought, that I, +Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, +Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars +Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, +I would you had her spirit in such another: +The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle +You may pace easy, but not such a wife. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would we had all such wives, that the men might go +to wars with the women! + +MARK ANTONY +So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar +Made out of her impatience, which not wanted +Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant +Did you too much disquiet: for that you must +But say, I could not help it. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I wrote to you +When rioting in Alexandria; you +Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts +Did gibe my missive out of audience. + +MARK ANTONY +Sir, +He fell upon me ere admitted: then +Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want +Of what I was i' the morning: but next day +I told him of myself; which was as much +As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow +Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, +Out of our question wipe him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You have broken +The article of your oath; which you shall never +Have tongue to charge me with. + +LEPIDUS +Soft, Caesar! + +MARK ANTONY +No, +Lepidus, let him speak: +The honour is sacred which he talks on now, +Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar; +The article of my oath. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +To lend me arms and aid when I required them; +The which you both denied. + +MARK ANTONY +Neglected, rather; +And then when poison'd hours had bound me up +From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may, +I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty +Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power +Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia, +To have me out of Egypt, made wars here; +For which myself, the ignorant motive, do +So far ask pardon as befits mine honour +To stoop in such a case. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis noble spoken. + +MECAENAS +If it might please you, to enforce no further +The griefs between ye: to forget them quite +Were to remember that the present need +Speaks to atone you. + +LEPIDUS +Worthily spoken, Mecaenas. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Or, if you borrow one another's love for the +instant, you may, when you hear no more words of +Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to +wrangle in when you have nothing else to do. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou art a soldier only: speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. + +MARK ANTONY +You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Go to, then; your considerate stone. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not much dislike the matter, but +The manner of his speech; for't cannot be +We shall remain in friendship, our conditions +So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew +What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge +O' the world I would pursue it. + +AGRIPPA +Give me leave, Caesar,-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Speak, Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, +Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony +Is now a widower. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Say not so, Agrippa: +If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof +Were well deserved of rashness. + +MARK ANTONY +I am not married, Caesar: let me hear +Agrippa further speak. + +AGRIPPA +To hold you in perpetual amity, +To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts +With an unslipping knot, take Antony +Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims +No worse a husband than the best of men; +Whose virtue and whose general graces speak +That which none else can utter. By this marriage, +All little jealousies, which now seem great, +And all great fears, which now import their dangers, +Would then be nothing: truths would be tales, +Where now half tales be truths: her love to both +Would, each to other and all loves to both, +Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke; +For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, +By duty ruminated. + +MARK ANTONY +Will Caesar speak? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd +With what is spoke already. + +MARK ANTONY +What power is in Agrippa, +If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' +To make this good? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The power of Caesar, and +His power unto Octavia. + +MARK ANTONY +May I never +To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, +Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand: +Further this act of grace: and from this hour +The heart of brothers govern in our loves +And sway our great designs! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There is my hand. +A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother +Did ever love so dearly: let her live +To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never +Fly off our loves again! + +LEPIDUS +Happily, amen! + +MARK ANTONY +I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey; +For he hath laid strange courtesies and great +Of late upon me: I must thank him only, +Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; +At heel of that, defy him. + +LEPIDUS +Time calls upon's: +Of us must Pompey presently be sought, +Or else he seeks out us. + +MARK ANTONY +Where lies he? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +About the mount Misenum. + +MARK ANTONY +What is his strength by land? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Great and increasing: but by sea +He is an absolute master. + +MARK ANTONY +So is the fame. +Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it: +Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we +The business we have talk'd of. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +With most gladness: +And do invite you to my sister's view, +Whither straight I'll lead you. + +MARK ANTONY +Let us, Lepidus, +Not lack your company. + +LEPIDUS +Noble Antony, +Not sickness should detain me. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, and LEPIDUS + +MECAENAS +Welcome from Egypt, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My +honourable friend, Agrippa! + +AGRIPPA +Good Enobarbus! + +MECAENAS +We have cause to be glad that matters are so well +digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and +made the night light with drinking. + +MECAENAS +Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and +but twelve persons there; is this true? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more +monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. + +MECAENAS +She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to +her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up +his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. + +AGRIPPA +There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised +well for her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will tell you. +The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, +Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; +Purple the sails, and so perfumed that +The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, +Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made +The water which they beat to follow faster, +As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, +It beggar'd all description: she did lie +In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue-- +O'er-picturing that Venus where we see +The fancy outwork nature: on each side her +Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, +With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem +To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, +And what they undid did. + +AGRIPPA +O, rare for Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, +So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, +And made their bends adornings: at the helm +A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle +Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, +That yarely frame the office. From the barge +A strange invisible perfume hits the sense +Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast +Her people out upon her; and Antony, +Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone, +Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, +Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, +And made a gap in nature. + +AGRIPPA +Rare Egyptian! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, +Invited her to supper: she replied, +It should be better he became her guest; +Which she entreated: our courteous Antony, +Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak, +Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast, +And for his ordinary pays his heart +For what his eyes eat only. + +AGRIPPA +Royal wench! +She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed: +He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I saw her once +Hop forty paces through the public street; +And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, +That she did make defect perfection, +And, breathless, power breathe forth. + +MECAENAS +Now Antony must leave her utterly. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Never; he will not: +Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale +Her infinite variety: other women cloy +The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry +Where most she satisfies; for vilest things +Become themselves in her: that the holy priests +Bless her when she is riggish. + +MECAENAS +If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle +The heart of Antony, Octavia is +A blessed lottery to him. + +AGRIPPA +Let us go. +Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest +Whilst you abide here. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Humbly, sir, I thank you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between them, and Attendants +MARK ANTONY +The world and my great office will sometimes +Divide me from your bosom. + +OCTAVIA +All which time +Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers +To them for you. + +MARK ANTONY +Good night, sir. My Octavia, +Read not my blemishes in the world's report: +I have not kept my square; but that to come +Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady. +Good night, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good night. + +Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA + +Enter Soothsayer + +MARK ANTONY +Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt? + +Soothsayer +Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither! + +MARK ANTONY +If you can, your reason? + +Soothsayer +I see it in +My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet +Hie you to Egypt again. + +MARK ANTONY +Say to me, +Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? + +Soothsayer +Caesar's. +Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side: +Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is +Noble, courageous high, unmatchable, +Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel +Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore +Make space enough between you. + +MARK ANTONY +Speak this no more. + +Soothsayer +To none but thee; no more, but when to thee. +If thou dost play with him at any game, +Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, +He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens, +When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit +Is all afraid to govern thee near him; +But, he away, 'tis noble. + +MARK ANTONY +Get thee gone: +Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: + +Exit Soothsayer + +He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, +He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him; +And in our sports my better cunning faints +Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds; +His cocks do win the battle still of mine, +When it is all to nought; and his quails ever +Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt: +And though I make this marriage for my peace, +I' the east my pleasure lies. + +Enter VENTIDIUS + +O, come, Ventidius, +You must to Parthia: your commission's ready; +Follow me, and receive't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A street. + +Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA +LEPIDUS +Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten +Your generals after. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, Mark Antony +Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. + +LEPIDUS +Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, +Which will become you both, farewell. + +MECAENAS +We shall, +As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount +Before you, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your way is shorter; +My purposes do draw me much about: +You'll win two days upon me. + +MECAENAS AGRIPPA +Sir, good success! + +LEPIDUS +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Give me some music; music, moody food +Of us that trade in love. + +Attendants +The music, ho! + +Enter MARDIAN + +CLEOPATRA +Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. + +CHARMIAN +My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. + +CLEOPATRA +As well a woman with an eunuch play'd +As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? + +MARDIAN +As well as I can, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +And when good will is show'd, though't come +too short, +The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: +Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, +My music playing far off, I will betray +Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce +Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, +I'll think them every one an Antony, +And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.' + +CHARMIAN +'Twas merry when +You wager'd on your angling; when your diver +Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he +With fervency drew up. + +CLEOPATRA +That time,--O times!-- +I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night +I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn, +Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; +Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst +I wore his sword Philippan. + +Enter a Messenger + +O, from Italy +Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, +That long time have been barren. + +Messenger +Madam, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, +Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, +If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here +My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings +Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. + +Messenger +First, madam, he is well. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, there's more gold. +But, sirrah, mark, we use +To say the dead are well: bring it to that, +The gold I give thee will I melt and pour +Down thy ill-uttering throat. + +Messenger +Good madam, hear me. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, go to, I will; +But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony +Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour +To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, +Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, +Not like a formal man. + +Messenger +Will't please you hear me? + +CLEOPATRA +I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: +Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, +Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, +I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail +Rich pearls upon thee. + +Messenger +Madam, he's well. + +CLEOPATRA +Well said. + +Messenger +And friends with Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou'rt an honest man. + +Messenger +Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + +CLEOPATRA +Make thee a fortune from me. + +Messenger +But yet, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay +The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'! +'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth +Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, +Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, +The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: +In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. + +Messenger +Free, madam! no; I made no such report: +He's bound unto Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +For what good turn? + +Messenger +For the best turn i' the bed. + +CLEOPATRA +I am pale, Charmian. + +Messenger +Madam, he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +The most infectious pestilence upon thee! + +Strikes him down + +Messenger +Good madam, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +What say you? Hence, + +Strikes him again + +Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes +Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: + +She hales him up and down + +Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, +Smarting in lingering pickle. + +Messenger +Gracious madam, +I that do bring the news made not the match. + +CLEOPATRA +Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, +And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst +Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; +And I will boot thee with what gift beside +Thy modesty can beg. + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Rogue, thou hast lived too long. + +Draws a knife + +Messenger +Nay, then I'll run. +What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. + +Exit + +CHARMIAN +Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: +The man is innocent. + +CLEOPATRA +Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. +Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures +Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: +Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. + +CHARMIAN +He is afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +I will not hurt him. + +Exit CHARMIAN + +These hands do lack nobility, that they strike +A meaner than myself; since I myself +Have given myself the cause. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger + +Come hither, sir. +Though it be honest, it is never good +To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. +An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell +Themselves when they be felt. + +Messenger +I have done my duty. + +CLEOPATRA +Is he married? +I cannot hate thee worser than I do, +If thou again say 'Yes.' + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? + +Messenger +Should I lie, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +O, I would thou didst, +So half my Egypt were submerged and made +A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: +Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me +Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? + +Messenger +I crave your highness' pardon. + +CLEOPATRA +He is married? + +Messenger +Take no offence that I would not offend you: +To punish me for what you make me do. +Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, +That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: +The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome +Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, +And be undone by 'em! + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +Good your highness, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. + +CHARMIAN +Many times, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I am paid for't now. +Lead me from hence: +I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. +Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him +Report the feature of Octavia, her years, +Her inclination, let him not leave out +The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. + +Exit ALEXAS + +Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, +Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, +The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas + +To MARDIAN + +Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, +But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near Misenum. + +Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS, with Soldiers marching +POMPEY +Your hostages I have, so have you mine; +And we shall talk before we fight. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most meet +That first we come to words; and therefore have we +Our written purposes before us sent; +Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know +If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword, +And carry back to Sicily much tall youth +That else must perish here. + +POMPEY +To you all three, +The senators alone of this great world, +Chief factors for the gods, I do not know +Wherefore my father should revengers want, +Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar, +Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, +There saw you labouring for him. What was't +That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what +Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus, +With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom, +To drench the Capitol; but that they would +Have one man but a man? And that is it +Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen +The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant +To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome +Cast on my noble father. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take your time. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails; +We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st +How much we do o'er-count thee. + +POMPEY +At land, indeed, +Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house: +But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, +Remain in't as thou mayst. + +LEPIDUS +Be pleased to tell us-- +For this is from the present--how you take +The offers we have sent you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There's the point. + +MARK ANTONY +Which do not be entreated to, but weigh +What it is worth embraced. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +And what may follow, +To try a larger fortune. + +POMPEY +You have made me offer +Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must +Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send +Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon +To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back +Our targes undinted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +That's our offer. + +POMPEY +Know, then, +I came before you here a man prepared +To take this offer: but Mark Antony +Put me to some impatience: though I lose +The praise of it by telling, you must know, +When Caesar and your brother were at blows, +Your mother came to Sicily and did find +Her welcome friendly. + +MARK ANTONY +I have heard it, Pompey; +And am well studied for a liberal thanks +Which I do owe you. + +POMPEY +Let me have your hand: +I did not think, sir, to have met you here. + +MARK ANTONY +The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you, +That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither; +For I have gain'd by 't. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Since I saw you last, +There is a change upon you. + +POMPEY +Well, I know not +What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face; +But in my bosom shall she never come, +To make my heart her vassal. + +LEPIDUS +Well met here. + +POMPEY +I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed: +I crave our composition may be written, +And seal'd between us. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That's the next to do. + +POMPEY +We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's +Draw lots who shall begin. + +MARK ANTONY +That will I, Pompey. + +POMPEY +No, Antony, take the lot: but, first +Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery +Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar +Grew fat with feasting there. + +MARK ANTONY +You have heard much. + +POMPEY +I have fair meanings, sir. + +MARK ANTONY +And fair words to them. + +POMPEY +Then so much have I heard: +And I have heard, Apollodorus carried-- + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No more of that: he did so. + +POMPEY +What, I pray you? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. + +POMPEY +I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well; +And well am like to do; for, I perceive, +Four feasts are toward. + +POMPEY +Let me shake thy hand; +I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight, +When I have envied thy behavior. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir, +I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye, +When you have well deserved ten times as much +As I have said you did. + +POMPEY +Enjoy thy plainness, +It nothing ill becomes thee. +Aboard my galley I invite you all: +Will you lead, lords? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +Show us the way, sir. + +POMPEY +Come. + +Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS + +MENAS +[Aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have +made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +At sea, I think. + +MENAS +We have, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +You have done well by water. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will praise any man that will praise me; though it +cannot be denied what I have done by land. + +MENAS +Nor what I have done by water. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Yes, something you can deny for your own +safety: you have been a great thief by sea. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There I deny my land service. But give me your +hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they +might take two thieves kissing. + +MENAS +All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But there is never a fair woman has a true face. + +MENAS +No slander; they steal hearts. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +We came hither to fight with you. + +MENAS +For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. +Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again. + +MENAS +You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony +here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar's sister is called Octavia. + +MENAS +True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. + +MENAS +Pray ye, sir? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Tis true. + +MENAS +Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would +not prophesy so. + +MENAS +I think the policy of that purpose made more in the +marriage than the love of the parties. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I think so too. But you shall find, the band that +seems to tie their friendship together will be the +very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a +holy, cold, and still conversation. + +MENAS +Who would not have his wife so? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. +He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the +sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as +I said before, that which is the strength of their +amity shall prove the immediate author of their +variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: +he married but his occasion here. + +MENAS +And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? +I have a health for you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt. + +MENAS +Come, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum. + +Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet +First Servant +Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are +ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world +will blow them down. + +Second Servant +Lepidus is high-coloured. + +First Servant +They have made him drink alms-drink. + +Second Servant +As they pinch one another by the disposition, he +cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his +entreaty, and himself to the drink. + +First Servant +But it raises the greater war between him and +his discretion. + +Second Servant +Why, this is to have a name in great men's +fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do +me no service as a partisan I could not heave. + +First Servant +To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen +to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, +which pitifully disaster the cheeks. + +A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains + +MARK ANTONY +[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take +the flow o' the Nile +By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, +By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth +Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells, +The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman +Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, +And shortly comes to harvest. + +LEPIDUS +You've strange serpents there. + +MARK ANTONY +Ay, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the +operation of your sun: so is your crocodile. + +MARK ANTONY +They are so. + +POMPEY +Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then. + +LEPIDUS +Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' +pyramises are very goodly things; without +contradiction, I have heard that. + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Say in mine ear: +what is't? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech +thee, captain, +And hear me speak a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Forbear me till anon. +This wine for Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +What manner o' thing is your crocodile? + +MARK ANTONY +It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad +as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is, +and moves with its own organs: it lives by that +which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of +it, it transmigrates. + +LEPIDUS +What colour is it of? + +MARK ANTONY +Of it own colour too. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis a strange serpent. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Will this description satisfy him? + +MARK ANTONY +With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a +very epicure. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of +that? away! +Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] If for the sake of merit thou +wilt hear me, +Rise from thy stool. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] I think thou'rt mad. +The matter? + +Rises, and walks aside + +MENAS +I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. + +POMPEY +Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say? +Be jolly, lords. + +MARK ANTONY +These quick-sands, Lepidus, +Keep off them, for you sink. + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of all the world? + +POMPEY +What say'st thou? + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. + +POMPEY +How should that be? + +MENAS +But entertain it, +And, though thou think me poor, I am the man +Will give thee all the world. + +POMPEY +Hast thou drunk well? + +MENAS +Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. +Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove: +Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, +Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. + +POMPEY +Show me which way. + +MENAS +These three world-sharers, these competitors, +Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable; +And, when we are put off, fall to their throats: +All there is thine. + +POMPEY +Ah, this thou shouldst have done, +And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany; +In thee't had been good service. Thou must know, +'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; +Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue +Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown, +I should have found it afterwards well done; +But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. + +MENAS +[Aside] For this, +I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. +Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, +Shall never find it more. + +POMPEY +This health to Lepidus! + +MARK ANTONY +Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Here's to thee, Menas! + +MENAS +Enobarbus, welcome! + +POMPEY +Fill till the cup be hid. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There's a strong fellow, Menas. + +Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS + +MENAS +Why? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st +not? + +MENAS +The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all, +That it might go on wheels! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Drink thou; increase the reels. + +MENAS +Come. + +POMPEY +This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. + +MARK ANTONY +It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho? +Here is to Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I could well forbear't. +It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, +And it grows fouler. + +MARK ANTONY +Be a child o' the time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Possess it, I'll make answer: +But I had rather fast from all four days +Than drink so much in one. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ha, my brave emperor! + +To MARK ANTONY + +Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals, +And celebrate our drink? + +POMPEY +Let's ha't, good soldier. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, let's all take hands, +Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense +In soft and delicate Lethe. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +All take hands. +Make battery to our ears with the loud music: +The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing; +The holding every man shall bear as loud +As his strong sides can volley. + +Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand + +THE SONG. +Come, thou monarch of the vine, +Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! +In thy fats our cares be drown'd, +With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: +Cup us, till the world go round, +Cup us, till the world go round! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, +Let me request you off: our graver business +Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; +You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb +Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue +Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost +Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. +Good Antony, your hand. + +POMPEY +I'll try you on the shore. + +MARK ANTONY +And shall, sir; give's your hand. + +POMPEY +O Antony, +You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends. +Come, down into the boat. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Take heed you fall not. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS + +Menas, I'll not on shore. + +MENAS +No, to my cabin. +These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what! +Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell +To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out! + +Sound a flourish, with drums + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ho! says a' There's my cap. + +MENAS +Ho! Noble captain, come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A plain in Syria. + +Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of PACORUS borne before him +VENTIDIUS +Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now +Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death +Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body +Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, +Pays this for Marcus Crassus. + +SILIUS +Noble Ventidius, +Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, +The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media, +Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither +The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony +Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and +Put garlands on thy head. + +VENTIDIUS +O Silius, Silius, +I have done enough; a lower place, note well, +May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius; +Better to leave undone, than by our deed +Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away. +Caesar and Antony have ever won +More in their officer than person: Sossius, +One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, +For quick accumulation of renown, +Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. +Who does i' the wars more than his captain can +Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition, +The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, +Than gain which darkens him. +I could do more to do Antonius good, +But 'twould offend him; and in his offence +Should my performance perish. + +SILIUS +Thou hast, Ventidius, +that +Without the which a soldier, and his sword, +Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony! + +VENTIDIUS +I'll humbly signify what in his name, +That magical word of war, we have effected; +How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, +The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia +We have jaded out o' the field. + +SILIUS +Where is he now? + +VENTIDIUS +He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste +The weight we must convey with's will permit, +We shall appear before him. On there; pass along! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS at another +AGRIPPA +What, are the brothers parted? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone; +The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps +To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus, +Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled +With the green sickness. + +AGRIPPA +'Tis a noble Lepidus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar! + +AGRIPPA +Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. + +AGRIPPA +What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil! + +AGRIPPA +O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further. + +AGRIPPA +Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony: +Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, +poets, cannot +Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho! +His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, +Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. + +AGRIPPA +Both he loves. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They are his shards, and he their beetle. + +Trumpets within + +So; +This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +No further, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You take from me a great part of myself; +Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife +As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band +Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, +Let not the piece of virtue, which is set +Betwixt us as the cement of our love, +To keep it builded, be the ram to batter +The fortress of it; for better might we +Have loved without this mean, if on both parts +This be not cherish'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Make me not offended +In your distrust. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have said. + +MARK ANTONY +You shall not find, +Though you be therein curious, the least cause +For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you, +And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! +We will here part. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: +The elements be kind to thee, and make +Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. + +OCTAVIA +My noble brother! + +MARK ANTONY +The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring, +And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. + +OCTAVIA +Sir, look well to my husband's house; and-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What, Octavia? + +OCTAVIA +I'll tell you in your ear. + +MARK ANTONY +Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can +Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's +down-feather, +That stands upon the swell at full of tide, +And neither way inclines. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] Will Caesar weep? + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] He has a cloud in 's face. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] He were the worse for that, +were he a horse; +So is he, being a man. + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] Why, Enobarbus, +When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, +He cried almost to roaring; and he wept +When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] That year, indeed, he was +troubled with a rheum; +What willingly he did confound he wail'd, +Believe't, till I wept too. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, sweet Octavia, +You shall hear from me still; the time shall not +Out-go my thinking on you. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, sir, come; +I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: +Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, +And give you to the gods. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Adieu; be happy! + +LEPIDUS +Let all the number of the stars give light +To thy fair way! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, fa rewell! + +Kisses OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +Farewell! + +Trumpets sound. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is the fellow? + +ALEXAS +Half afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +Go to, go to. + +Enter the Messenger as before + +Come hither, sir. + +ALEXAS +Good majesty, +Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you +But when you are well pleased. + +CLEOPATRA +That Herod's head +I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone +Through whom I might command it? Come thou near. + +Messenger +Most gracious majesty,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Didst thou behold Octavia? + +Messenger +Ay, dread queen. + +CLEOPATRA +Where? + +Messenger +Madam, in Rome; +I look'd her in the face, and saw her led +Between her brother and Mark Antony. + +CLEOPATRA +Is she as tall as me? + +Messenger +She is not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? + +Messenger +Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. + +CLEOPATRA +That's not so good: he cannot like her long. + +CHARMIAN +Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible. + +CLEOPATRA +I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish! +What majesty is in her gait? Remember, +If e'er thou look'dst on majesty. + +Messenger +She creeps: +Her motion and her station are as one; +She shows a body rather than a life, +A statue than a breather. + +CLEOPATRA +Is this certain? + +Messenger +Or I have no observance. + +CHARMIAN +Three in Egypt +Cannot make better note. + +CLEOPATRA +He's very knowing; +I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet: +The fellow has good judgment. + +CHARMIAN +Excellent. + +CLEOPATRA +Guess at her years, I prithee. + +Messenger +Madam, +She was a widow,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Widow! Charmian, hark. + +Messenger +And I do think she's thirty. + +CLEOPATRA +Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? + +Messenger +Round even to faultiness. + +CLEOPATRA +For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. +Her hair, what colour? + +Messenger +Brown, madam: and her forehead +As low as she would wish it. + +CLEOPATRA +There's gold for thee. +Thou must not take my former sharpness ill: +I will employ thee back again; I find thee +Most fit for business: go make thee ready; +Our letters are prepared. + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +A proper man. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed, he is so: I repent me much +That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, +This creature's no such thing. + +CHARMIAN +Nothing, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. + +CHARMIAN +Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, +And serving you so long! + +CLEOPATRA +I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian: +But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me +Where I will write. All may be well enough. + +CHARMIAN +I warrant you, madam. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA +MARK ANTONY +Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,-- +That were excusable, that, and thousands more +Of semblable import,--but he hath waged +New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it +To public ear: +Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not +But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly +He vented them; most narrow measure lent me: +When the best hint was given him, he not took't, +Or did it from his teeth. + +OCTAVIA +O my good lord, +Believe not all; or, if you must believe, +Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, +If this division chance, ne'er stood between, +Praying for both parts: +The good gods me presently, +When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!' +Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, +'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother, +Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway +'Twixt these extremes at all. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle Octavia, +Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks +Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour, +I lose myself: better I were not yours +Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, +Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady, +I'll raise the preparation of a war +Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste; +So your desires are yours. + +OCTAVIA +Thanks to my lord. +The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak, +Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be +As if the world should cleave, and that slain men +Should solder up the rift. + +MARK ANTONY +When it appears to you where this begins, +Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults +Can never be so equal, that your love +Can equally move with them. Provide your going; +Choose your own company, and command what cost +Your heart has mind to. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. Another room. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How now, friend Eros! + +EROS +There's strange news come, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What, man? + +EROS +Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This is old: what is the success? + +EROS +Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst +Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let +him partake in the glory of the action: and not +resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly +wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so +the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; +And throw between them all the food thou hast, +They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? + +EROS +He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns +The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!' +And threats the throat of that his officer +That murder'd Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Our great navy's rigg'd. + +EROS +For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; +My lord desires you presently: my news +I might have told hereafter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Twill be naught: +But let it be. Bring me to Antony. + +EROS +Come, sir. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more, +In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't: +I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd, +Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold +Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat +Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, +And all the unlawful issue that their lust +Since then hath made between them. Unto her +He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her +Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, +Absolute queen. + +MECAENAS +This in the public eye? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I' the common show-place, where they exercise. +His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings: +Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia. +He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd +Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she +In the habiliments of the goddess Isis +That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience, +As 'tis reported, so. + +MECAENAS +Let Rome be thus Inform'd. + +AGRIPPA +Who, queasy with his insolence +Already, will their good thoughts call from him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The people know it; and have now received +His accusations. + +AGRIPPA +Who does he accuse? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Caesar: and that, having in Sicily +Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him +His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me +Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets +That Lepidus of the triumvirate +Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain +All his revenue. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, this should be answer'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. +I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel; +That he his high authority abused, +And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd, +I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia, +And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I +Demand the like. + +MECAENAS +He'll never yield to that. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nor must not then be yielded to in this. + +Enter OCTAVIA with her train + +OCTAVIA +Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That ever I should call thee castaway! + +OCTAVIA +You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not +Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony +Should have an army for an usher, and +The neighs of horse to tell of her approach +Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way +Should have borne men; and expectation fainted, +Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust +Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, +Raised by your populous troops: but you are come +A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented +The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, +Is often left unloved; we should have met you +By sea and land; supplying every stage +With an augmented greeting. + +OCTAVIA +Good my lord, +To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did +On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, +Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted +My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd +His pardon for return. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which soon he granted, +Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him. + +OCTAVIA +Do not say so, my lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have eyes upon him, +And his affairs come to me on the wind. +Where is he now? + +OCTAVIA +My lord, in Athens. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra +Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire +Up to a whore; who now are levying +The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled +Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus, +Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king +Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; +King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont; +Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king +Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, +The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, +With a more larger list of sceptres. + +OCTAVIA +Ay me, most wretched, +That have my heart parted betwixt two friends +That do afflict each other! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome hither: +Your letters did withhold our breaking forth; +Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led, +And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart; +Be you not troubled with the time, which drives +O'er your content these strong necessities; +But let determined things to destiny +Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome; +Nothing more dear to me. You are abused +Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods, +To do you justice, make them ministers +Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort; +And ever welcome to us. + +AGRIPPA +Welcome, lady. + +MECAENAS +Welcome, dear madam. +Each heart in Rome does love and pity you: +Only the adulterous Antony, most large +In his abominations, turns you off; +And gives his potent regiment to a trull, +That noises it against us. + +OCTAVIA +Is it so, sir? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you, +Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +CLEOPATRA +I will be even with thee, doubt it not. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But why, why, why? + +CLEOPATRA +Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, +And say'st it is not fit. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well, is it, is it? + +CLEOPATRA +If not denounced against us, why should not we +Be there in person? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Well, I could reply: +If we should serve with horse and mares together, +The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear +A soldier and his horse. + +CLEOPATRA +What is't you say? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; +Take from his heart, take from his brain, +from's time, +What should not then be spared. He is already +Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome +That Photinus an eunuch and your maids +Manage this war. + +CLEOPATRA +Sink Rome, and their tongues rot +That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war, +And, as the president of my kingdom, will +Appear there for a man. Speak not against it: +I will not stay behind. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Nay, I have done. +Here comes the emperor. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS + +MARK ANTONY +Is it not strange, Canidius, +That from Tarentum and Brundusium +He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea, +And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet? + +CLEOPATRA +Celerity is never more admired +Than by the negligent. + +MARK ANTONY +A good rebuke, +Which might have well becomed the best of men, +To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we +Will fight with him by sea. + +CLEOPATRA +By sea! what else? + +CANIDIUS +Why will my lord do so? + +MARK ANTONY +For that he dares us to't. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +So hath my lord dared him to single fight. + +CANIDIUS +Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia. +Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers, +Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off; +And so should you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your ships are not well mann'd; +Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people +Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet +Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought: +Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace +Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, +Being prepared for land. + +MARK ANTONY +By sea, by sea. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Most worthy sir, you therein throw away +The absolute soldiership you have by land; +Distract your army, which doth most consist +Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted +Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego +The way which promises assurance; and +Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, +From firm security. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll fight at sea. + +CLEOPATRA +I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. + +MARK ANTONY +Our overplus of shipping will we burn; +And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium +Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail, +We then can do't at land. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy business? + +Messenger +The news is true, my lord; he is descried; +Caesar has taken Toryne. + +MARK ANTONY +Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible; +Strange that power should be. Canidius, +Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, +And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship: +Away, my Thetis! + +Enter a Soldier + +How now, worthy soldier? + +Soldier +O noble emperor, do not fight by sea; +Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt +This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians +And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we +Have used to conquer, standing on the earth, +And fighting foot to foot. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well: away! + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +Soldier +By Hercules, I think I am i' the right. + +CANIDIUS +Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows +Not in the power on't: so our leader's led, +And we are women's men. + +Soldier +You keep by land +The legions and the horse whole, do you not? + +CANIDIUS +Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, +Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea: +But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's +Carries beyond belief. + +Soldier +While he was yet in Rome, +His power went out in such distractions as +Beguiled all spies. + +CANIDIUS +Who's his lieutenant, hear you? + +Soldier +They say, one Taurus. + +CANIDIUS +Well I know the man. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The emperor calls Canidius. + +CANIDIUS +With news the time's with labour, and throes forth, +Each minute, some. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Taurus! + +TAURUS +My lord? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle, +Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed +The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies +Upon this jump. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. Another part of the plain. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +MARK ANTONY +Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill, +In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place +We may the number of the ships behold, +And so proceed accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. Another part of the plain. + +CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight + +Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer: +The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, +With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder: +To see't mine eyes are blasted. + +Enter SCARUS + +SCARUS +Gods and goddesses, +All the whole synod of them! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's thy passion! + +SCARUS +The greater cantle of the world is lost +With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away +Kingdoms and provinces. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How appears the fight? + +SCARUS +On our side like the token'd pestilence, +Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,-- +Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight, +When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, +Both as the same, or rather ours the elder, +The breese upon her, like a cow in June, +Hoists sails and flies. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That I beheld: +Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not +Endure a further view. + +SCARUS +She once being loof'd, +The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, +Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, +Leaving the fight in height, flies after her: +I never saw an action of such shame; +Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before +Did violate so itself. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, alack! + +Enter CANIDIUS + +CANIDIUS +Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, +And sinks most lamentably. Had our general +Been what he knew himself, it had gone well: +O, he has given example for our flight, +Most grossly, by his own! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, are you thereabouts? +Why, then, good night indeed. + +CANIDIUS +Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. + +SCARUS +'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend +What further comes. + +CANIDIUS +To Caesar will I render +My legions and my horse: six kings already +Show me the way of yielding. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll yet follow +The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason +Sits in the wind against me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants +MARK ANTONY +Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't; +It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither: +I am so lated in the world, that I +Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship +Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, +And make your peace with Caesar. + +All +Fly! not we. + +MARK ANTONY +I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards +To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; +I have myself resolved upon a course +Which has no need of you; be gone: +My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O, +I follow'd that I blush to look upon: +My very hairs do mutiny; for the white +Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them +For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall +Have letters from me to some friends that will +Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, +Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint +Which my despair proclaims; let that be left +Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway: +I will possess you of that ship and treasure. +Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now: +Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, +Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by. + +Sits down + +Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS following + +EROS +Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. + +IRAS +Do, most dear queen. + +CHARMIAN +Do! why: what else? + +CLEOPATRA +Let me sit down. O Juno! + +MARK ANTONY +No, no, no, no, no. + +EROS +See you here, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +O fie, fie, fie! + +CHARMIAN +Madam! + +IRAS +Madam, O good empress! + +EROS +Sir, sir,-- + +MARK ANTONY +Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept +His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck +The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I +That the mad Brutus ended: he alone +Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had +In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter. + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, stand by. + +EROS +The queen, my lord, the queen. + +IRAS +Go to him, madam, speak to him: +He is unqualitied with very shame. + +CLEOPATRA +Well then, sustain him: O! + +EROS +Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches: +Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but +Your comfort makes the rescue. + +MARK ANTONY +I have offended reputation, +A most unnoble swerving. + +EROS +Sir, the queen. + +MARK ANTONY +O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, +How I convey my shame out of thine eyes +By looking back what I have left behind +'Stroy'd in dishonour. + +CLEOPATRA +O my lord, my lord, +Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought +You would have follow'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Egypt, thou knew'st too well +My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, +And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit +Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that +Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods +Command me. + +CLEOPATRA +O, my pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Now I must +To the young man send humble treaties, dodge +And palter in the shifts of lowness; who +With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, +Making and marring fortunes. You did know +How much you were my conqueror; and that +My sword, made weak by my affection, would +Obey it on all cause. + +CLEOPATRA +Pardon, pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates +All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; +Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; +Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. +Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows +We scorn her most when most she offers blows. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him appear that's come from Antony. +Know you him? + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster: +An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither +He sends so poor a pinion off his wing, +Which had superfluous kings for messengers +Not many moons gone by. + +Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Approach, and speak. + +EUPHRONIUS +Such as I am, I come from Antony: +I was of late as petty to his ends +As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf +To his grand sea. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Be't so: declare thine office. + +EUPHRONIUS +Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and +Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted, +He lessens his requests; and to thee sues +To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, +A private man in Athens: this for him. +Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness; +Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves +The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, +Now hazarded to thy grace. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +For Antony, +I have no ears to his request. The queen +Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she +From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, +Or take his life there: this if she perform, +She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. + +EUPHRONIUS +Fortune pursue thee! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bring him through the bands. + +Exit EUPHRONIUS + +To THYREUS + +From Antony win Cleopatra: promise, +And in our name, what she requires; add more, +From thine invention, offers: women are not +In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure +The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus; +Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we +Will answer as a law. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I go. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, +And what thou think'st his very action speaks +In every power that moves. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +What shall we do, Enobarbus? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Think, and die. + +CLEOPATRA +Is Antony or we in fault for this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Antony only, that would make his will +Lord of his reason. What though you fled +From that great face of war, whose several ranges +Frighted each other? why should he follow? +The itch of his affection should not then +Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point, +When half to half the world opposed, he being +The meered question: 'twas a shame no less +Than was his loss, to course your flying flags, +And leave his navy gazing. + +CLEOPATRA +Prithee, peace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador + +MARK ANTONY +Is that his answer? + +EUPHRONIUS +Ay, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +The queen shall then have courtesy, so she +Will yield us up. + +EUPHRONIUS +He says so. + +MARK ANTONY +Let her know't. +To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, +And he will fill thy wishes to the brim +With principalities. + +CLEOPATRA +That head, my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +To him again: tell him he wears the rose +Of youth upon him; from which the world should note +Something particular: his coin, ships, legions, +May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail +Under the service of a child as soon +As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore +To lay his gay comparisons apart, +And answer me declined, sword against sword, +Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will +Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show, +Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are +A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward +Do draw the inward quality after them, +To suffer all alike. That he should dream, +Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will +Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued +His judgment too. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +A messenger from CAESAR. + +CLEOPATRA +What, no more ceremony? See, my women! +Against the blown rose may they stop their nose +That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. + +Exit Attendant + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square. +The loyalty well held to fools does make +Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure +To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord +Does conquer him that did his master conquer +And earns a place i' the story. + +Enter THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Caesar's will? + +THYREUS +Hear it apart. + +CLEOPATRA +None but friends: say boldly. + +THYREUS +So, haply, are they friends to Antony. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has; +Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master +Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, +Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's. + +THYREUS +So. +Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats, +Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, +Further than he is Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Go on: right royal. + +THYREUS +He knows that you embrace not Antony +As you did love, but as you fear'd him. + +CLEOPATRA +O! + +THYREUS +The scars upon your honour, therefore, he +Does pity, as constrained blemishes, +Not as deserved. + +CLEOPATRA +He is a god, and knows +What is most right: mine honour was not yielded, +But conquer'd merely. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] To be sure of that, +I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky, +That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for +Thy dearest quit thee. + +Exit + +THYREUS +Shall I say to Caesar +What you require of him? for he partly begs +To be desired to give. It much would please him, +That of his fortunes you should make a staff +To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits, +To hear from me you had left Antony, +And put yourself under his shrowd, +The universal landlord. + +CLEOPATRA +What's your name? + +THYREUS +My name is Thyreus. + +CLEOPATRA +Most kind messenger, +Say to great Caesar this: in deputation +I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt +To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel: +Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear +The doom of Egypt. + +THYREUS +'Tis your noblest course. +Wisdom and fortune combating together, +If that the former dare but what it can, +No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay +My duty on your hand. + +CLEOPATRA +Your Caesar's father oft, +When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, +Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place, +As it rain'd kisses. + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +MARK ANTONY +Favours, by Jove that thunders! +What art thou, fellow? + +THYREUS +One that but performs +The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest +To have command obey'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] You will be whipp'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods +and devils! +Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!' +Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, +And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am +Antony yet. + +Enter Attendants + +Take hence this Jack, and whip him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp +Than with an old one dying. + +MARK ANTONY +Moon and stars! +Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries +That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them +So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name, +Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, +Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face, +And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence. + +THYREUS +Mark Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Tug him away: being whipp'd, +Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall +Bear us an errand to him. + +Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS + +You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha! +Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, +Forborne the getting of a lawful race, +And by a gem of women, to be abused +By one that looks on feeders? + +CLEOPATRA +Good my lord,-- + +MARK ANTONY +You have been a boggler ever: +But when we in our viciousness grow hard-- +O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes; +In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us +Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut +To our confusion. + +CLEOPATRA +O, is't come to this? + +MARK ANTONY +I found you as a morsel cold upon +Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment +Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, +Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have +Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure, +Though you can guess what temperance should be, +You know not what it is. + +CLEOPATRA +Wherefore is this? + +MARK ANTONY +To let a fellow that will take rewards +And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with +My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal +And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were +Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar +The horned herd! for I have savage cause; +And to proclaim it civilly, were like +A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank +For being yare about him. + +Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS + +Is he whipp'd? + +First Attendant +Soundly, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? + +First Attendant +He did ask favour. + +MARK ANTONY +If that thy father live, let him repent +Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry +To follow Caesar in his triumph, since +Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth +The white hand of a lady fever thee, +Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar, +Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say +He makes me angry with him; for he seems +Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, +Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry; +And at this time most easy 'tis to do't, +When my good stars, that were my former guides, +Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires +Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike +My speech and what is done, tell him he has +Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom +He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, +As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou: +Hence with thy stripes, begone! + +Exit THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Have you done yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Alack, our terrene moon +Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone +The fall of Antony! + +CLEOPATRA +I must stay his time. + +MARK ANTONY +To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes +With one that ties his points? + +CLEOPATRA +Not know me yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Cold-hearted toward me? + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, dear, if I be so, +From my cold heart let heaven engender hail, +And poison it in the source; and the first stone +Drop in my neck: as it determines, so +Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite! +Till by degrees the memory of my womb, +Together with my brave Egyptians all, +By the discandying of this pelleted storm, +Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile +Have buried them for prey! + +MARK ANTONY +I am satisfied. +Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where +I will oppose his fate. Our force by land +Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too +Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like. +Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady? +If from the field I shall return once more +To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood; +I and my sword will earn our chronicle: +There's hope in't yet. + +CLEOPATRA +That's my brave lord! + +MARK ANTONY +I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed, +And fight maliciously: for when mine hours +Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives +Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth, +And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, +Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me +All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; +Let's mock the midnight bell. + +CLEOPATRA +It is my birth-day: +I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord +Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. + +MARK ANTONY +We will yet do well. + +CLEOPATRA +Call all his noble captains to my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force +The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; +There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, +I'll make death love me; for I will contend +Even with his pestilent scythe. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious, +Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood +The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, +A diminution in our captain's brain +Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason, +It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek +Some way to leave him. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power +To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger +He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, +Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know +I have many other ways to die; meantime +Laugh at his challenge. + +MECAENAS +Caesar must think, +When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted +Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now +Make boot of his distraction: never anger +Made good guard for itself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let our best heads +Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles +We mean to fight: within our files there are, +Of those that served Mark Antony but late, +Enough to fetch him in. See it done: +And feast the army; we have store to do't, +And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others +MARK ANTONY +He will not fight with me, Domitius. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No. + +MARK ANTONY +Why should he not? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, +He is twenty men to one. + +MARK ANTONY +To-morrow, soldier, +By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live, +Or bathe my dying honour in the blood +Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.' + +MARK ANTONY +Well said; come on. +Call forth my household servants: let's to-night +Be bounteous at our meal. + +Enter three or four Servitors + +Give me thy hand, +Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;-- +Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well, +And kings have been your fellows. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What means this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd +tricks which sorrow shoots +Out of the mind. + +MARK ANTONY +And thou art honest too. +I wish I could be made so many men, +And all of you clapp'd up together in +An Antony, that I might do you service +So good as you have done. + +All +The gods forbid! + +MARK ANTONY +Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: +Scant not my cups; and make as much of me +As when mine empire was your fellow too, +And suffer'd my command. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What does he mean? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep. + +MARK ANTONY +Tend me to-night; +May be it is the period of your duty: +Haply you shall not see me more; or if, +A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow +You'll serve another master. I look on you +As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, +I turn you not away; but, like a master +Married to your good service, stay till death: +Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, +And the gods yield you for't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What mean you, sir, +To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; +And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, +Transform us not to women. + +MARK ANTONY +Ho, ho, ho! +Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! +Grace grow where those drops fall! +My hearty friends, +You take me in too dolorous a sense; +For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you +To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, +I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you +Where rather I'll expect victorious life +Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come, +And drown consideration. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the palace. + +Enter two Soldiers to their guard +First Soldier +Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day. + +Second Soldier +It will determine one way: fare you well. +Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? + +First Soldier +Nothing. What news? + +Second Soldier +Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you. + +First Soldier +Well, sir, good night. + +Enter two other Soldiers + +Second Soldier +Soldiers, have careful watch. + +Third Soldier +And you. Good night, good night. + +They place themselves in every corner of the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Here we: and if to-morrow +Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope +Our landmen will stand up. + +Third Soldier +'Tis a brave army, +And full of purpose. + +Music of the hautboys as under the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Peace! what noise? + +First Soldier +List, list! + +Second Soldier +Hark! + +First Soldier +Music i' the air. + +Third Soldier +Under the earth. + +Fourth Soldier +It signs well, does it not? + +Third Soldier +No. + +First Soldier +Peace, I say! +What should this mean? + +Second Soldier +'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, +Now leaves him. + +First Soldier +Walk; let's see if other watchmen +Do hear what we do? + +They advance to another post + +Second Soldier +How now, masters! + +All +[Speaking together] How now! +How now! do you hear this? + +First Soldier +Ay; is't not strange? + +Third Soldier +Do you hear, masters? do you hear? + +First Soldier +Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; +Let's see how it will give off. + +All +Content. 'Tis strange. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A room in the palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and others attending +MARK ANTONY +Eros! mine armour, Eros! + +CLEOPATRA +Sleep a little. + +MARK ANTONY +No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros! + +Enter EROS with armour + +Come good fellow, put mine iron on: +If fortune be not ours to-day, it is +Because we brave her: come. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, I'll help too. +What's this for? + +MARK ANTONY +Ah, let be, let be! thou art +The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this. + +CLEOPATRA +Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well; +We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow? +Go put on thy defences. + +EROS +Briefly, sir. + +CLEOPATRA +Is not this buckled well? + +MARK ANTONY +Rarely, rarely: +He that unbuckles this, till we do please +To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm. +Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire +More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love, +That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st +The royal occupation! thou shouldst see +A workman in't. + +Enter an armed Soldier + +Good morrow to thee; welcome: +Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge: +To business that we love we rise betime, +And go to't with delight. + +Soldier +A thousand, sir, +Early though't be, have on their riveted trim, +And at the port expect you. + +Shout. Trumpets flourish + +Enter Captains and Soldiers + +Captain +The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. + +All +Good morrow, general. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis well blown, lads: +This morning, like the spirit of a youth +That means to be of note, begins betimes. +So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said. +Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me: +This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable + +Kisses her + +And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand +On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee +Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight, +Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers + +CHARMIAN +Please you, retire to your chamber. + +CLEOPATRA +Lead me. +He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might +Determine this great war in single fight! +Then Antony,--but now--Well, on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a Soldier meeting them +Soldier +The gods make this a happy day to Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd +To make me fight at land! + +Soldier +Hadst thou done so, +The kings that have revolted, and the soldier +That has this morning left thee, would have still +Follow'd thy heels. + +MARK ANTONY +Who's gone this morning? + +Soldier +Who! +One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus, +He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp +Say 'I am none of thine.' + +MARK ANTONY +What say'st thou? + +Soldier +Sir, +He is with Caesar. + +EROS +Sir, his chests and treasure +He has not with him. + +MARK ANTONY +Is he gone? + +Soldier +Most certain. + +MARK ANTONY +Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; +Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him-- +I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings; +Say that I wish he never find more cause +To change a master. O, my fortunes have +Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight: +Our will is Antony be took alive; +Make it so known. + +AGRIPPA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The time of universal peace is near: +Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world +Shall bear the olive freely. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Antony +Is come into the field. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go charge Agrippa +Plant those that have revolted in the van, +That Antony may seem to spend his fury +Upon himself. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on +Affairs of Antony; there did persuade +Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, +And leave his master Antony: for this pains +Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest +That fell away have entertainment, but +No honourable trust. I have done ill; +Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, +That I will joy no more. + +Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's + +Soldier +Enobarbus, Antony +Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with +His bounty overplus: the messenger +Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now +Unloading of his mules. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I give it you. + +Soldier +Mock not, Enobarbus. +I tell you true: best you safed the bringer +Out of the host; I must attend mine office, +Or would have done't myself. Your emperor +Continues still a Jove. + +Exit + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I am alone the villain of the earth, +And feel I am so most. O Antony, +Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid +My better service, when my turpitude +Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart: +If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean +Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel. +I fight against thee! No: I will go seek +Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits +My latter part of life. + +Exit + +SCENE VII. Field of battle between the camps. + +Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA and others +AGRIPPA +Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: +Caesar himself has work, and our oppression +Exceeds what we expected. + +Exeunt + +Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded + +SCARUS +O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! +Had we done so at first, we had droven them home +With clouts about their heads. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou bleed'st apace. + +SCARUS +I had a wound here that was like a T, +But now 'tis made an H. + +MARK ANTONY +They do retire. + +SCARUS +We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet +Room for six scotches more. + +Enter EROS + +EROS +They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves +For a fair victory. + +SCARUS +Let us score their backs, +And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: +'Tis sport to maul a runner. + +MARK ANTONY +I will reward thee +Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold +For thy good valour. Come thee on. + +SCARUS +I'll halt after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. Under the walls of Alexandria. + +Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS, with others +MARK ANTONY +We have beat him to his camp: run one before, +And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, +Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood +That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; +For doughty-handed are you, and have fought +Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been +Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors. +Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, +Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears +Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss +The honour'd gashes whole. + +To SCARUS + +Give me thy hand + +Enter CLEOPATRA, attended + +To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, +Make her thanks bless thee. + +To CLEOPATRA + +O thou day o' the world, +Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, +Through proof of harness to my heart, and there +Ride on the pants triumphing! + +CLEOPATRA +Lord of lords! +O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from +The world's great snare uncaught? + +MARK ANTONY +My nightingale, +We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! +though grey +Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we +A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can +Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; +Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: +Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day +As if a god, in hate of mankind, had +Destroy'd in such a shape. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll give thee, friend, +An armour all of gold; it was a king's. + +MARK ANTONY +He has deserved it, were it carbuncled +Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand: +Through Alexandria make a jolly march; +Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: +Had our great palace the capacity +To camp this host, we all would sup together, +And drink carouses to the next day's fate, +Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, +With brazen din blast you the city's ear; +Make mingle with rattling tabourines; +That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, +Applauding our approach. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Sentinels at their post +First Soldier +If we be not relieved within this hour, +We must return to the court of guard: the night +Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle +By the second hour i' the morn. + +Second Soldier +This last day was +A shrewd one to's. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, bear me witness, night,-- + +Third Soldier +What man is this? + +Second Soldier +Stand close, and list him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, +When men revolted shall upon record +Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did +Before thy face repent! + +First Soldier +Enobarbus! + +Third Soldier +Peace! +Hark further. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, +The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, +That life, a very rebel to my will, +May hang no longer on me: throw my heart +Against the flint and hardness of my fault: +Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, +And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, +Nobler than my revolt is infamous, +Forgive me in thine own particular; +But let the world rank me in register +A master-leaver and a fugitive: +O Antony! O Antony! + +Dies + +Second Soldier +Let's speak To him. + +First Soldier +Let's hear him, for the things he speaks +May concern Caesar. + +Third Soldier +Let's do so. But he sleeps. + +First Soldier +Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his +Was never yet for sleep. + +Second Soldier +Go we to him. + +Third Soldier +Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. + +Second Soldier +Hear you, sir? + +First Soldier +The hand of death hath raught him. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! the drums +Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him +To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour +Is fully out. + +Third Soldier +Come on, then; +He may recover yet. + +Exeunt with the body + +SCENE X. Between the two camps. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army +MARK ANTONY +Their preparation is to-day by sea; +We please them not by land. + +SCARUS +For both, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air; +We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot +Upon the hills adjoining to the city +Shall stay with us: order for sea is given; +They have put forth the haven +Where their appointment we may best discover, +And look on their endeavour. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Another part of the same. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +But being charged, we will be still by land, +Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force +Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, +And hold our best advantage. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Another part of the same. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS +MARK ANTONY +Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine +does stand, +I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word +Straight, how 'tis like to go. + +Exit + +SCARUS +Swallows have built +In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers +Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, +And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony +Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts, +His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear, +Of what he has, and has not. + +Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +All is lost; +This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me: +My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder +They cast their caps up and carouse together +Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! +'tis thou +Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart +Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly; +For when I am revenged upon my charm, +I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. + +Exit SCARUS + +O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more: +Fortune and Antony part here; even here +Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts +That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave +Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets +On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd, +That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am: +O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,-- +Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home; +Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,-- +Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, +Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. +What, Eros, Eros! + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! + +CLEOPATRA +Why is my lord enraged against his love? + +MARK ANTONY +Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, +And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, +And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians: +Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot +Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown +For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let +Patient Octavia plough thy visage up +With her prepared nails. + +Exit CLEOPATRA + +'Tis well thou'rt gone, +If it be well to live; but better 'twere +Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death +Might have prevented many. Eros, ho! +The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me, +Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: +Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon; +And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club, +Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die: +To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall +Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho! + +Exit + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Help me, my women! O, he is more mad +Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly +Was never so emboss'd. + +CHARMIAN +To the monument! +There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. +The soul and body rive not more in parting +Than greatness going off. + +CLEOPATRA +To the monument! +Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; +Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,' +And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian, +And bring me how he takes my death. +To the monument! + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIV. The same. Another room. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS +MARK ANTONY +Eros, thou yet behold'st me? + +EROS +Ay, noble lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; +A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, +A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, +A forked mountain, or blue promontory +With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, +And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen +these signs; +They are black vesper's pageants. + +EROS +Ay, my lord, + +MARK ANTONY +That which is now a horse, even with a thought +The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, +As water is in water. + +EROS +It does, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +My good knave Eros, now thy captain is +Even such a body: here I am Antony: +Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. +I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,-- +Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; +Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't +A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has +Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory +Unto an enemy's triumph. +Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us +Ourselves to end ourselves. + +Enter MARDIAN + +O! thy vile lady! +She has robb'd me of my sword. + +MARDIAN +No, Antony; +My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled +With thine entirely. + +MARK ANTONY +Hence, saucy eunuch; peace! +She hath betray'd me and shall die the death. + +MARDIAN +Death of one person can be paid but once, +And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do +Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake +Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!' +Then in the midst a tearing groan did break +The name of Antony; it was divided +Between her heart and lips: she render'd life, +Thy name so buried in her. + +MARK ANTONY +Dead, then? + +MARDIAN +Dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, +And we must sleep. + +To MARDIAN + +That thou depart'st hence safe, +Does pay thy labour richly; go. + +Exit MARDIAN + +Off, pluck off: +The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep +The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! +Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, +Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace. +No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; +You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. + +Exit EROS + +I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and +Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now +All length is torture: since the torch is out, +Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour +Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles +Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done. +Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me: +Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, +And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: +Dido and her AEneas shall want troops, +And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros! + +Re-enter EROS + +EROS +What would my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +Since Cleopatra died, +I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods +Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword +Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back +With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack +The courage of a woman; less noble mind +Than she which by her death our Caesar tells +'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros, +That, when the exigent should come, which now +Is come indeed, when I should see behind me +The inevitable prosecution of +Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, +Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come: +Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. +Put colour in thy cheek. + +EROS +The gods withhold me! +Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, +Though enemy, lost aim, and could not? + +MARK ANTONY +Eros, +Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see +Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down +His corrigible neck, his face subdued +To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat +Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded +His baseness that ensued? + +EROS +I would not see't. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. +Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn +Most useful for thy country. + +EROS +O, sir, pardon me! + +MARK ANTONY +When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then +To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once; +Or thy precedent services are all +But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. + +EROS +Turn from me, then, that noble countenance, +Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. + +MARK ANTONY +Lo thee! + +Turning from him + +EROS +My sword is drawn. + +MARK ANTONY +Then let it do at once +The thing why thou hast drawn it. + +EROS +My dear master, +My captain, and my emperor, let me say, +Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis said, man; and farewell. + +EROS +Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? + +MARK ANTONY +Now, Eros. + +EROS +Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow +Of Antony's death. + +Kills himself + +MARK ANTONY +Thrice-nobler than myself! +Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what +I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros +Have by their brave instruction got upon me +A nobleness in record: but I will be +A bridegroom in my death, and run into't +As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, +Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus + +Falling on his sword + +I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? +The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! + +Enter DERCETAS and Guard + +First Guard +What's the noise? + +MARK ANTONY +I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end +Of what I have begun. + +Second Guard +The star is fall'n. + +First Guard +And time is at his period. + +All +Alas, and woe! + +MARK ANTONY +Let him that loves me strike me dead. + +First Guard +Not I. + +Second Guard +Nor I. + +Third Guard +Nor any one. + +Exeunt Guard + +DERCETAS +Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. +This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, +Shall enter me with him. + +Enter DIOMEDES + +DIOMEDES +Where's Antony? + +DERCETAS +There, Diomed there. + +DIOMEDES +Lives he? +Wilt thou not answer, man? + +Exit DERCETAS + +MARK ANTONY +Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me +Sufficing strokes for death. + +DIOMEDES +Most absolute lord, +My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. + +MARK ANTONY +When did she send thee? + +DIOMEDES +Now, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Where is she? + +DIOMEDES +Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear +Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw-- +Which never shall be found--you did suspect +She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage +Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead; +But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent +Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, +I dread, too late. + +MARK ANTONY +Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. + +DIOMEDES +What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! +Come, your lord calls! + +Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; +'Tis the last service that I shall command you. + +First Guard +Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear +All your true followers out. + +All +Most heavy day! + +MARK ANTONY +Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate +To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome +Which comes to punish us, and we punish it +Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: +I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends, +And have my thanks for all. + +Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY + +SCENE XV. The same. A monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, I will never go from hence. + +CHARMIAN +Be comforted, dear madam. + +CLEOPATRA +No, I will not: +All strange and terrible events are welcome, +But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, +Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great +As that which makes it. + +Enter, below, DIOMEDES + +How now! is he dead? + +DIOMEDES +His death's upon him, but not dead. +Look out o' the other side your monument; +His guard have brought him thither. + +Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard + +CLEOPATRA +O sun, +Burn the great sphere thou movest in! +darkling stand +The varying shore o' the world. O Antony, +Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; +Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. + +MARK ANTONY +Peace! +Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, +But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. + +CLEOPATRA +So it should be, that none but Antony +Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying; only +I here importune death awhile, until +Of many thousand kisses the poor last +I lay up thy lips. + +CLEOPATRA +I dare not, dear,-- +Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not, +Lest I be taken: not the imperious show +Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall +Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, +serpents, have +Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: +Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes +And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour +Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,-- +Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up: +Assist, good friends. + +MARK ANTONY +O, quick, or I am gone. + +CLEOPATRA +Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! +Our strength is all gone into heaviness, +That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, +The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, +And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,-- +Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come; + +They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA + +And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: +Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, +Thus would I wear them out. + +All +A heavy sight! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying: +Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. + +CLEOPATRA +No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, +That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, +Provoked by my offence. + +MARK ANTONY +One word, sweet queen: +Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! + +CLEOPATRA +They do not go together. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle, hear me: +None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +My resolution and my hands I'll trust; +None about Caesar. + +MARK ANTONY +The miserable change now at my end +Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts +In feeding them with those my former fortunes +Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world, +The noblest; and do now not basely die, +Not cowardly put off my helmet to +My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman +Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; +I can no more. + +CLEOPATRA +Noblest of men, woo't die? +Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide +In this dull world, which in thy absence is +No better than a sty? O, see, my women, + +MARK ANTONY dies + +The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord! +O, wither'd is the garland of the war, +The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls +Are level now with men; the odds is gone, +And there is nothing left remarkable +Beneath the visiting moon. + +Faints + +CHARMIAN +O, quietness, lady! + +IRAS +She is dead too, our sovereign. + +CHARMIAN +Lady! + +IRAS +Madam! + +CHARMIAN +O madam, madam, madam! + +IRAS +Royal Egypt, Empress! + +CHARMIAN +Peace, peace, Iras! + +CLEOPATRA +No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded +By such poor passion as the maid that milks +And does the meanest chares. It were for me +To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; +To tell them that this world did equal theirs +Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; +Patience is scottish, and impatience does +Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin +To rush into the secret house of death, +Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? +What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! +My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, +Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart: +We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, +what's noble, +Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, +And make death proud to take us. Come, away: +This case of that huge spirit now is cold: +Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend +But resolution, and the briefest end. + +Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; +Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks +The pauses that he makes. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest +Appear thus to us? + +DERCETAS +I am call'd Dercetas; +Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy +Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, +He was my master; and I wore my life +To spend upon his haters. If thou please +To take me to thee, as I was to him +I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, +I yield thee up my life. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What is't thou say'st? + +DERCETAS +I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The breaking of so great a thing should make +A greater crack: the round world +Should have shook lions into civil streets, +And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony +Is not a single doom; in the name lay +A moiety of the world. + +DERCETAS +He is dead, Caesar: +Not by a public minister of justice, +Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, +Which writ his honour in the acts it did, +Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, +Splitted the heart. This is his sword; +I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd +With his most noble blood. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Look you sad, friends? +The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings +To wash the eyes of kings. + +AGRIPPA +And strange it is, +That nature must compel us to lament +Our most persisted deeds. + +MECAENAS +His taints and honours +Waged equal with him. + +AGRIPPA +A rarer spirit never +Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us +Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd. + +MECAENAS +When such a spacious mirror's set before him, +He needs must see himself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O Antony! +I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance +Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce +Have shown to thee such a declining day, +Or look on thine; we could not stall together +In the whole world: but yet let me lament, +With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, +That thou, my brother, my competitor +In top of all design, my mate in empire, +Friend and companion in the front of war, +The arm of mine own body, and the heart +Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars, +Unreconciliable, should divide +Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- +But I will tell you at some meeter season: + +Enter an Egyptian + +The business of this man looks out of him; +We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? + +Egyptian +A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, +Confined in all she has, her monument, +Of thy intents desires instruction, +That she preparedly may frame herself +To the way she's forced to. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bid her have good heart: +She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, +How honourable and how kindly we +Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live +To be ungentle. + +Egyptian +So the gods preserve thee! + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, +We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts +The quality of her passion shall require, +Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke +She do defeat us; for her life in Rome +Would be eternal in our triumph: go, +And with your speediest bring us what she says, +And how you find of her. + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Gallus, go you along. + +Exit GALLUS + +Where's Dolabella, +To second Proculeius? + +All +Dolabella! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him alone, for I remember now +How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready. +Go with me to my tent; where you shall see +How hardly I was drawn into this war; +How calm and gentle I proceeded still +In all my writings: go with me, and see +What I can show in this. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. A room in the monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +My desolation does begin to make +A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; +Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, +A minister of her will: and it is great +To do that thing that ends all other deeds; +Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; +Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, +The beggar's nurse and Caesar's. + +Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS and Soldiers + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; +And bids thee study on what fair demands +Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. + +CLEOPATRA +What's thy name? + +PROCULEIUS +My name is Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +Antony +Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but +I do not greatly care to be deceived, +That have no use for trusting. If your master +Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, +That majesty, to keep decorum, must +No less beg than a kingdom: if he please +To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son, +He gives me so much of mine own, as I +Will kneel to him with thanks. + +PROCULEIUS +Be of good cheer; +You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing: +Make your full reference freely to my lord, +Who is so full of grace, that it flows over +On all that need: let me report to him +Your sweet dependency; and you shall find +A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, +Where he for grace is kneel'd to. + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, tell him +I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him +The greatness he has got. I hourly learn +A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly +Look him i' the face. + +PROCULEIUS +This I'll report, dear lady. +Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied +Of him that caused it. + +GALLUS +You see how easily she may be surprised: + +Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates + +To PROCULEIUS and the Guard + +Guard her till Caesar come. + +Exit + +IRAS +Royal queen! + +CHARMIAN +O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen: + +CLEOPATRA +Quick, quick, good hands. + +Drawing a dagger + +PROCULEIUS +Hold, worthy lady, hold: + +Seizes and disarms her + +Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this +Relieved, but not betray'd. + +CLEOPATRA +What, of death too, +That rids our dogs of languish? + +PROCULEIUS +Cleopatra, +Do not abuse my master's bounty by +The undoing of yourself: let the world see +His nobleness well acted, which your death +Will never let come forth. + +CLEOPATRA +Where art thou, death? +Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen +Worthy many babes and beggars! + +PROCULEIUS +O, temperance, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; +If idle talk will once be necessary, +I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, +Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I +Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; +Nor once be chastised with the sober eye +Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up +And show me to the shouting varletry +Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt +Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud +Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies +Blow me into abhorring! rather make +My country's high pyramides my gibbet, +And hang me up in chains! + +PROCULEIUS +You do extend +These thoughts of horror further than you shall +Find cause in Caesar. + +Enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Proculeius, +What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, +And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, +I'll take her to my guard. + +PROCULEIUS +So, Dolabella, +It shall content me best: be gentle to her. + +To CLEOPATRA + +To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, +If you'll employ me to him. + +CLEOPATRA +Say, I would die. + +Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers + +DOLABELLA +Most noble empress, you have heard of me? + +CLEOPATRA +I cannot tell. + +DOLABELLA +Assuredly you know me. + +CLEOPATRA +No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. +You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; +Is't not your trick? + +DOLABELLA +I understand not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: +O, such another sleep, that I might see +But such another man! + +DOLABELLA +If it might please ye,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck +A sun and moon, which kept their course, +and lighted +The little O, the earth. + +DOLABELLA +Most sovereign creature,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm +Crested the world: his voice was propertied +As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; +But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, +He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, +There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas +That grew the more by reaping: his delights +Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above +The element they lived in: in his livery +Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were +As plates dropp'd from his pocket. + +DOLABELLA +Cleopatra! + +CLEOPATRA +Think you there was, or might be, such a man +As this I dream'd of? + +DOLABELLA +Gentle madam, no. + +CLEOPATRA +You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. +But, if there be, or ever were, one such, +It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff +To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine +And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, +Condemning shadows quite. + +DOLABELLA +Hear me, good madam. +Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it +As answering to the weight: would I might never +O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, +By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites +My very heart at root. + +CLEOPATRA +I thank you, sir, +Know you what Caesar means to do with me? + +DOLABELLA +I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, sir,-- + +DOLABELLA +Though he be honourable,-- + +CLEOPATRA +He'll lead me, then, in triumph? + +DOLABELLA +Madam, he will; I know't. + +Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there: Octavius Caesar!' + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which is the Queen of Egypt? + +DOLABELLA +It is the emperor, madam. + +CLEOPATRA kneels + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Arise, you shall not kneel: +I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, the gods +Will have it thus; my master and my lord +I must obey. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take to you no hard thoughts: +The record of what injuries you did us, +Though written in our flesh, we shall remember +As things but done by chance. + +CLEOPATRA +Sole sir o' the world, +I cannot project mine own cause so well +To make it clear; but do confess I have +Been laden with like frailties which before +Have often shamed our sex. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, know, +We will extenuate rather than enforce: +If you apply yourself to our intents, +Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find +A benefit in this change; but if you seek +To lay on me a cruelty, by taking +Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself +Of my good purposes, and put your children +To that destruction which I'll guard them from, +If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. + +CLEOPATRA +And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, +Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall +Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. + +CLEOPATRA +This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, +I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; +Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? + +SELEUCUS +Here, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, +Upon his peril, that I have reserved +To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. + +SELEUCUS +Madam, +I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, +Speak that which is not. + +CLEOPATRA +What have I kept back? + +SELEUCUS +Enough to purchase what you have made known. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve +Your wisdom in the deed. + +CLEOPATRA +See, Caesar! O, behold, +How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours; +And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. +The ingratitude of this Seleucus does +Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust +Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt +Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, +Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! +O rarely base! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good queen, let us entreat you. + +CLEOPATRA +O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, +That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, +Doing the honour of thy lordliness +To one so meek, that mine own servant should +Parcel the sum of my disgraces by +Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, +That I some lady trifles have reserved, +Immoment toys, things of such dignity +As we greet modern friends withal; and say, +Some nobler token I have kept apart +For Livia and Octavia, to induce +Their mediation; must I be unfolded +With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me +Beneath the fall I have. + +To SELEUCUS + +Prithee, go hence; +Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits +Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, +Thou wouldst have mercy on me. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Forbear, Seleucus. + +Exit SELEUCUS + +CLEOPATRA +Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought +For things that others do; and, when we fall, +We answer others' merits in our name, +Are therefore to be pitied. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, +Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, +Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours, +Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, +Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you +Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; +Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; +For we intend so to dispose you as +Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: +Our care and pity is so much upon you, +That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. + +CLEOPATRA +My master, and my lord! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not so. Adieu. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train + +CLEOPATRA +He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not +Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. + +Whispers CHARMIAN + +IRAS +Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, +And we are for the dark. + +CLEOPATRA +Hie thee again: +I have spoke already, and it is provided; +Go put it to the haste. + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I will. + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Behold, sir. + +Exit + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella! + +DOLABELLA +Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, +Which my love makes religion to obey, +I tell you this: Caesar through Syria +Intends his journey; and within three days +You with your children will he send before: +Make your best use of this: I have perform'd +Your pleasure and my promise. + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella, +I shall remain your debtor. + +DOLABELLA +I your servant, +Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell, and thanks. + +Exit DOLABELLA + +Now, Iras, what think'st thou? +Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown +In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves +With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall +Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, +Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, +And forced to drink their vapour. + +IRAS +The gods forbid! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors +Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers +Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians +Extemporally will stage us, and present +Our Alexandrian revels; Antony +Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see +Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness +I' the posture of a whore. + +IRAS +O the good gods! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, that's certain. + +IRAS +I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails +Are stronger than mine eyes. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, that's the way +To fool their preparation, and to conquer +Their most absurd intents. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN + +Now, Charmian! +Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch +My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, +To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. +Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed; +And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave +To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. +Wherefore's this noise? + +Exit IRAS. A noise within + +Enter a Guardsman + +Guard +Here is a rural fellow +That will not be denied your highness presence: +He brings you figs. + +CLEOPATRA +Let him come in. + +Exit Guardsman + +What poor an instrument +May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. +My resolution's placed, and I have nothing +Of woman in me: now from head to foot +I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon +No planet is of mine. + +Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket + +Guard +This is the man. + +CLEOPATRA +Avoid, and leave him. + +Exit Guardsman + +Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, +That kills and pains not? + +Clown +Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party +that should desire you to touch him, for his biting +is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or +never recover. + +CLEOPATRA +Rememberest thou any that have died on't? + +Clown +Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of +them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, +but something given to lie; as a woman should not +do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the +biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes +a very good report o' the worm; but he that will +believe all that they say, shall never be saved by +half that they do: but this is most fallible, the +worm's an odd worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Get thee hence; farewell. + +Clown +I wish you all joy of the worm. + +Setting down his basket + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell. + +Clown +You must think this, look you, that the worm will +do his kind. + +CLEOPATRA +Ay, ay; farewell. + +Clown +Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the +keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no +goodness in worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. + +Clown +Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is +not worth the feeding. + +CLEOPATRA +Will it eat me? + +Clown +You must not think I am so simple but I know the +devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a +woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her +not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the +gods great harm in their women; for in every ten +that they make, the devils mar five. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, get thee gone; farewell. + +Clown +Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm. + +Exit + +Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, & c + +CLEOPATRA +Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have +Immortal longings in me: now no more +The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: +Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear +Antony call; I see him rouse himself +To praise my noble act; I hear him mock +The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men +To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: +Now to that name my courage prove my title! +I am fire and air; my other elements +I give to baser life. So; have you done? +Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. +Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. + +Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies + +Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? +If thou and nature can so gently part, +The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, +Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? +If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world +It is not worth leave-taking. + +CHARMIAN +Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, +The gods themselves do weep! + +CLEOPATRA +This proves me base: +If she first meet the curled Antony, +He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss +Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou +mortal wretch, + +To an asp, which she applies to her breast + +With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate +Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool +Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, +That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass +Unpolicied! + +CHARMIAN +O eastern star! + +CLEOPATRA +Peace, peace! +Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, +That sucks the nurse asleep? + +CHARMIAN +O, break! O, break! + +CLEOPATRA +As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- +O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too. + +Applying another asp to her arm + +What should I stay-- + +Dies + +CHARMIAN +In this vile world? So, fare thee well. +Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies +A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; +And golden Phoebus never be beheld +Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; +I'll mend it, and then play. + +Enter the Guard, rushing in + +First Guard +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Speak softly, wake her not. + +First Guard +Caesar hath sent-- + +CHARMIAN +Too slow a messenger. + +Applies an asp + +O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. + +First Guard +Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled. + +Second Guard +There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him. + +First Guard +What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? + +CHARMIAN +It is well done, and fitting for a princess +Descended of so many royal kings. +Ah, soldier! + +Dies + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +How goes it here? + +Second Guard +All dead. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, thy thoughts +Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming +To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou +So sought'st to hinder. + +Within 'A way there, a way for Caesar!' + +Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching + +DOLABELLA +O sir, you are too sure an augurer; +That you did fear is done. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bravest at the last, +She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, +Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? +I do not see them bleed. + +DOLABELLA +Who was last with them? + +First Guard +A simple countryman, that brought her figs: +This was his basket. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Poison'd, then. + +First Guard +O Caesar, +This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake: +I found her trimming up the diadem +On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood +And on the sudden dropp'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O noble weakness! +If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear +By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, +As she would catch another Antony +In her strong toil of grace. + +DOLABELLA +Here, on her breast, +There is a vent of blood and something blown: +The like is on her arm. + +First Guard +This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves +Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves +Upon the caves of Nile. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most probable +That so she died; for her physician tells me +She hath pursued conclusions infinite +Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed; +And bear her women from the monument: +She shall be buried by her Antony: +No grave upon the earth shall clip in it +A pair so famous. High events as these +Strike those that make them; and their story is +No less in pity than his glory which +Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall +In solemn show attend this funeral; +And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see +High order in this great solemnity. + +Exeunt +The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark +Shakespeare homepage | Hamlet | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. + +FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO +BERNARDO +Who's there? + +FRANCISCO +Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. + +BERNARDO +Long live the king! + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo? + +BERNARDO +He. + +FRANCISCO +You come most carefully upon your hour. + +BERNARDO +'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. + +FRANCISCO +For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, +And I am sick at heart. + +BERNARDO +Have you had quiet guard? + +FRANCISCO +Not a mouse stirring. + +BERNARDO +Well, good night. +If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, +The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. + +FRANCISCO +I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there? + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +HORATIO +Friends to this ground. + +MARCELLUS +And liegemen to the Dane. + +FRANCISCO +Give you good night. + +MARCELLUS +O, farewell, honest soldier: +Who hath relieved you? + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo has my place. +Give you good night. + +Exit + +MARCELLUS +Holla! Bernardo! + +BERNARDO +Say, +What, is Horatio there? + +HORATIO +A piece of him. + +BERNARDO +Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? + +BERNARDO +I have seen nothing. + +MARCELLUS +Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, +And will not let belief take hold of him +Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: +Therefore I have entreated him along +With us to watch the minutes of this night; +That if again this apparition come, +He may approve our eyes and speak to it. + +HORATIO +Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. + +BERNARDO +Sit down awhile; +And let us once again assail your ears, +That are so fortified against our story +What we have two nights seen. + +HORATIO +Well, sit we down, +And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. + +BERNARDO +Last night of all, +When yond same star that's westward from the pole +Had made his course to illume that part of heaven +Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, +The bell then beating one,-- + +Enter Ghost + +MARCELLUS +Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! + +BERNARDO +In the same figure, like the king that's dead. + +MARCELLUS +Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. + +BERNARDO +Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder. + +BERNARDO +It would be spoke to. + +MARCELLUS +Question it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, +Together with that fair and warlike form +In which the majesty of buried Denmark +Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak! + +MARCELLUS +It is offended. + +BERNARDO +See, it stalks away! + +HORATIO +Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! + +Exit Ghost + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone, and will not answer. + +BERNARDO +How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: +Is not this something more than fantasy? +What think you on't? + +HORATIO +Before my God, I might not this believe +Without the sensible and true avouch +Of mine own eyes. + +MARCELLUS +Is it not like the king? + +HORATIO +As thou art to thyself: +Such was the very armour he had on +When he the ambitious Norway combated; +So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, +He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. +'Tis strange. + +MARCELLUS +Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, +With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. + +HORATIO +In what particular thought to work I know not; +But in the gross and scope of my opinion, +This bodes some strange eruption to our state. + +MARCELLUS +Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, +Why this same strict and most observant watch +So nightly toils the subject of the land, +And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, +And foreign mart for implements of war; +Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task +Does not divide the Sunday from the week; +What might be toward, that this sweaty haste +Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: +Who is't that can inform me? + +HORATIO +That can I; +At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, +Whose image even but now appear'd to us, +Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, +Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride, +Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet-- +For so this side of our known world esteem'd him-- +Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact, +Well ratified by law and heraldry, +Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands +Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: +Against the which, a moiety competent +Was gaged by our king; which had return'd +To the inheritance of Fortinbras, +Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant, +And carriage of the article design'd, +His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, +Of unimproved mettle hot and full, +Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there +Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes, +For food and diet, to some enterprise +That hath a stomach in't; which is no other-- +As it doth well appear unto our state-- +But to recover of us, by strong hand +And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands +So by his father lost: and this, I take it, +Is the main motive of our preparations, +The source of this our watch and the chief head +Of this post-haste and romage in the land. + +BERNARDO +I think it be no other but e'en so: +Well may it sort that this portentous figure +Comes armed through our watch; so like the king +That was and is the question of these wars. + +HORATIO +A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. +In the most high and palmy state of Rome, +A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, +The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead +Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: +As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, +Disasters in the sun; and the moist star +Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands +Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: +And even the like precurse of fierce events, +As harbingers preceding still the fates +And prologue to the omen coming on, +Have heaven and earth together demonstrated +Unto our climatures and countrymen.-- +But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! + +Re-enter Ghost + +I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion! +If thou hast any sound, or use of voice, +Speak to me: +If there be any good thing to be done, +That may to thee do ease and grace to me, +Speak to me: + +Cock crows + +If thou art privy to thy country's fate, +Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! +Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life +Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, +For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, +Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +Shall I strike at it with my partisan? + +HORATIO +Do, if it will not stand. + +BERNARDO +'Tis here! + +HORATIO +'Tis here! + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone! + +Exit Ghost + +We do it wrong, being so majestical, +To offer it the show of violence; +For it is, as the air, invulnerable, +And our vain blows malicious mockery. + +BERNARDO +It was about to speak, when the cock crew. + +HORATIO +And then it started like a guilty thing +Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, +The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, +Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat +Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, +Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, +The extravagant and erring spirit hies +To his confine: and of the truth herein +This present object made probation. + +MARCELLUS +It faded on the crowing of the cock. +Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes +Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, +The bird of dawning singeth all night long: +And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; +The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, +No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, +So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. + +HORATIO +So have I heard and do in part believe it. +But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, +Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill: +Break we our watch up; and by my advice, +Let us impart what we have seen to-night +Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, +This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. +Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, +As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? + +MARCELLUS +Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know +Where we shall find him most conveniently. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room of state in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death +The memory be green, and that it us befitted +To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom +To be contracted in one brow of woe, +Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature +That we with wisest sorrow think on him, +Together with remembrance of ourselves. +Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, +The imperial jointress to this warlike state, +Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-- +With an auspicious and a dropping eye, +With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, +In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-- +Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd +Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone +With this affair along. For all, our thanks. +Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, +Holding a weak supposal of our worth, +Or thinking by our late dear brother's death +Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, +Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, +He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, +Importing the surrender of those lands +Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, +To our most valiant brother. So much for him. +Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: +Thus much the business is: we have here writ +To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-- +Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears +Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress +His further gait herein; in that the levies, +The lists and full proportions, are all made +Out of his subject: and we here dispatch +You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, +For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; +Giving to you no further personal power +To business with the king, more than the scope +Of these delated articles allow. +Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. + +CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND +In that and all things will we show our duty. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? +You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? +You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, +And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, +That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? +The head is not more native to the heart, +The hand more instrumental to the mouth, +Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. +What wouldst thou have, Laertes? + +LAERTES +My dread lord, +Your leave and favour to return to France; +From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, +To show my duty in your coronation, +Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, +My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France +And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? + +LORD POLONIUS +He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave +By laboursome petition, and at last +Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: +I do beseech you, give him leave to go. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, +And thy best graces spend it at thy will! +But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-- + +HAMLET +[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How is it that the clouds still hang on you? + +HAMLET +Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, +And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. +Do not for ever with thy vailed lids +Seek for thy noble father in the dust: +Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, +Passing through nature to eternity. + +HAMLET +Ay, madam, it is common. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +If it be, +Why seems it so particular with thee? + +HAMLET +Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.' +'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, +Nor customary suits of solemn black, +Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, +No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, +Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, +Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, +That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, +For they are actions that a man might play: +But I have that within which passeth show; +These but the trappings and the suits of woe. + +KING CLAUDIUS +'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, +To give these mourning duties to your father: +But, you must know, your father lost a father; +That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound +In filial obligation for some term +To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever +In obstinate condolement is a course +Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief; +It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, +A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, +An understanding simple and unschool'd: +For what we know must be and is as common +As any the most vulgar thing to sense, +Why should we in our peevish opposition +Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, +A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, +To reason most absurd: whose common theme +Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, +From the first corse till he that died to-day, +'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth +This unprevailing woe, and think of us +As of a father: for let the world take note, +You are the most immediate to our throne; +And with no less nobility of love +Than that which dearest father bears his son, +Do I impart toward you. For your intent +In going back to school in Wittenberg, +It is most retrograde to our desire: +And we beseech you, bend you to remain +Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, +Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: +I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. + +HAMLET +I shall in all my best obey you, madam. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply: +Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; +This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet +Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, +No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, +But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, +And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again, +Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +HAMLET +O, that this too too solid flesh would melt +Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! +Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd +His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! +How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, +Seem to me all the uses of this world! +Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, +That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature +Possess it merely. That it should come to this! +But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: +So excellent a king; that was, to this, +Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother +That he might not beteem the winds of heaven +Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! +Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, +As if increase of appetite had grown +By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- +Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!-- +A little month, or ere those shoes were old +With which she follow'd my poor father's body, +Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she-- +O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, +Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle, +My father's brother, but no more like my father +Than I to Hercules: within a month: +Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears +Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, +She married. O, most wicked speed, to post +With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! +It is not nor it cannot come to good: +But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. + +Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO + +HORATIO +Hail to your lordship! + +HAMLET +I am glad to see you well: +Horatio,--or I do forget myself. + +HORATIO +The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. + +HAMLET +Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: +And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus? + +MARCELLUS +My good lord-- + +HAMLET +I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. +But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? + +HORATIO +A truant disposition, good my lord. + +HAMLET +I would not hear your enemy say so, +Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, +To make it truster of your own report +Against yourself: I know you are no truant. +But what is your affair in Elsinore? +We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. + +HORATIO +My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. + +HAMLET +I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; +I think it was to see my mother's wedding. + +HORATIO +Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. + +HAMLET +Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats +Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. +Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven +Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! +My father!--methinks I see my father. + +HORATIO +Where, my lord? + +HAMLET +In my mind's eye, Horatio. + +HORATIO +I saw him once; he was a goodly king. + +HAMLET +He was a man, take him for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. + +HORATIO +My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. + +HAMLET +Saw? who? + +HORATIO +My lord, the king your father. + +HAMLET +The king my father! + +HORATIO +Season your admiration for awhile +With an attent ear, till I may deliver, +Upon the witness of these gentlemen, +This marvel to you. + +HAMLET +For God's love, let me hear. + +HORATIO +Two nights together had these gentlemen, +Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, +In the dead vast and middle of the night, +Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, +Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe, +Appears before them, and with solemn march +Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd +By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, +Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled +Almost to jelly with the act of fear, +Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me +In dreadful secrecy impart they did; +And I with them the third night kept the watch; +Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, +Form of the thing, each word made true and good, +The apparition comes: I knew your father; +These hands are not more like. + +HAMLET +But where was this? + +MARCELLUS +My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. + +HAMLET +Did you not speak to it? + +HORATIO +My lord, I did; +But answer made it none: yet once methought +It lifted up its head and did address +Itself to motion, like as it would speak; +But even then the morning cock crew loud, +And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, +And vanish'd from our sight. + +HAMLET +'Tis very strange. + +HORATIO +As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; +And we did think it writ down in our duty +To let you know of it. + +HAMLET +Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. +Hold you the watch to-night? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +We do, my lord. + +HAMLET +Arm'd, say you? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Arm'd, my lord. + +HAMLET +From top to toe? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +My lord, from head to foot. + +HAMLET +Then saw you not his face? + +HORATIO +O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. + +HAMLET +What, look'd he frowningly? + +HORATIO +A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. + +HAMLET +Pale or red? + +HORATIO +Nay, very pale. + +HAMLET +And fix'd his eyes upon you? + +HORATIO +Most constantly. + +HAMLET +I would I had been there. + +HORATIO +It would have much amazed you. + +HAMLET +Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? + +HORATIO +While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Longer, longer. + +HORATIO +Not when I saw't. + +HAMLET +His beard was grizzled--no? + +HORATIO +It was, as I have seen it in his life, +A sable silver'd. + +HAMLET +I will watch to-night; +Perchance 'twill walk again. + +HORATIO +I warrant it will. + +HAMLET +If it assume my noble father's person, +I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape +And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, +If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, +Let it be tenable in your silence still; +And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, +Give it an understanding, but no tongue: +I will requite your loves. So, fare you well: +Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, +I'll visit you. + +All +Our duty to your honour. + +HAMLET +Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; +I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! +Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, +Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house. + +Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA +LAERTES +My necessaries are embark'd: farewell: +And, sister, as the winds give benefit +And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, +But let me hear from you. + +OPHELIA +Do you doubt that? + +LAERTES +For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour, +Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, +A violet in the youth of primy nature, +Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, +The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more. + +OPHELIA +No more but so? + +LAERTES +Think it no more; +For nature, crescent, does not grow alone +In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, +The inward service of the mind and soul +Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, +And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch +The virtue of his will: but you must fear, +His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own; +For he himself is subject to his birth: +He may not, as unvalued persons do, +Carve for himself; for on his choice depends +The safety and health of this whole state; +And therefore must his choice be circumscribed +Unto the voice and yielding of that body +Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, +It fits your wisdom so far to believe it +As he in his particular act and place +May give his saying deed; which is no further +Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. +Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, +If with too credent ear you list his songs, +Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open +To his unmaster'd importunity. +Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, +And keep you in the rear of your affection, +Out of the shot and danger of desire. +The chariest maid is prodigal enough, +If she unmask her beauty to the moon: +Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes: +The canker galls the infants of the spring, +Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, +And in the morn and liquid dew of youth +Contagious blastments are most imminent. +Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: +Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. + +OPHELIA +I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, +As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, +Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, +Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; +Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, +Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, +And recks not his own rede. + +LAERTES +O, fear me not. +I stay too long: but here my father comes. + +Enter POLONIUS + +A double blessing is a double grace, +Occasion smiles upon a second leave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! +The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, +And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! +And these few precepts in thy memory +See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, +Nor any unproportioned thought his act. +Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. +Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, +Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; +But do not dull thy palm with entertainment +Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware +Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, +Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. +Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; +Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. +Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, +But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; +For the apparel oft proclaims the man, +And they in France of the best rank and station +Are of a most select and generous chief in that. +Neither a borrower nor a lender be; +For loan oft loses both itself and friend, +And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. +This above all: to thine ownself be true, +And it must follow, as the night the day, +Thou canst not then be false to any man. +Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! + +LAERTES +Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +The time invites you; go; your servants tend. + +LAERTES +Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well +What I have said to you. + +OPHELIA +'Tis in my memory lock'd, +And you yourself shall keep the key of it. + +LAERTES +Farewell. + +Exit + +LORD POLONIUS +What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you? + +OPHELIA +So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well bethought: +'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late +Given private time to you; and you yourself +Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: +If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, +And that in way of caution, I must tell you, +You do not understand yourself so clearly +As it behoves my daughter and your honour. +What is between you? give me up the truth. + +OPHELIA +He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders +Of his affection to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, +Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. +Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? + +OPHELIA +I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; +That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, +Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; +Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, +Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool. + +OPHELIA +My lord, he hath importuned me with love +In honourable fashion. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. + +OPHELIA +And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, +With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, +When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul +Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, +Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, +Even in their promise, as it is a-making, +You must not take for fire. From this time +Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence; +Set your entreatments at a higher rate +Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, +Believe so much in him, that he is young +And with a larger tether may he walk +Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, +Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, +Not of that dye which their investments show, +But mere implorators of unholy suits, +Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, +The better to beguile. This is for all: +I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, +Have you so slander any moment leisure, +As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. +Look to't, I charge you: come your ways. + +OPHELIA +I shall obey, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The platform. + +Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS +HAMLET +The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. + +HORATIO +It is a nipping and an eager air. + +HAMLET +What hour now? + +HORATIO +I think it lacks of twelve. + +HAMLET +No, it is struck. + +HORATIO +Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season +Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. + +A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within + +What does this mean, my lord? + +HAMLET +The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, +Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels; +And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, +The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out +The triumph of his pledge. + +HORATIO +Is it a custom? + +HAMLET +Ay, marry, is't: +But to my mind, though I am native here +And to the manner born, it is a custom +More honour'd in the breach than the observance. +This heavy-headed revel east and west +Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations: +They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase +Soil our addition; and indeed it takes +From our achievements, though perform'd at height, +The pith and marrow of our attribute. +So, oft it chances in particular men, +That for some vicious mole of nature in them, +As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty, +Since nature cannot choose his origin-- +By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, +Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, +Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens +The form of plausive manners, that these men, +Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, +Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-- +Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace, +As infinite as man may undergo-- +Shall in the general censure take corruption +From that particular fault: the dram of eale +Doth all the noble substance of a doubt +To his own scandal. + +HORATIO +Look, my lord, it comes! + +Enter Ghost + +HAMLET +Angels and ministers of grace defend us! +Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, +Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, +Be thy intents wicked or charitable, +Thou comest in such a questionable shape +That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, +King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me! +Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell +Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, +Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre, +Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, +Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, +To cast thee up again. What may this mean, +That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel +Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, +Making night hideous; and we fools of nature +So horridly to shake our disposition +With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? +Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? + +Ghost beckons HAMLET + +HORATIO +It beckons you to go away with it, +As if it some impartment did desire +To you alone. + +MARCELLUS +Look, with what courteous action +It waves you to a more removed ground: +But do not go with it. + +HORATIO +No, by no means. + +HAMLET +It will not speak; then I will follow it. + +HORATIO +Do not, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, what should be the fear? +I do not set my life in a pin's fee; +And for my soul, what can it do to that, +Being a thing immortal as itself? +It waves me forth again: I'll follow it. + +HORATIO +What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, +Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff +That beetles o'er his base into the sea, +And there assume some other horrible form, +Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason +And draw you into madness? think of it: +The very place puts toys of desperation, +Without more motive, into every brain +That looks so many fathoms to the sea +And hears it roar beneath. + +HAMLET +It waves me still. +Go on; I'll follow thee. + +MARCELLUS +You shall not go, my lord. + +HAMLET +Hold off your hands. + +HORATIO +Be ruled; you shall not go. + +HAMLET +My fate cries out, +And makes each petty artery in this body +As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. +Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. +By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! +I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee. + +Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET + +HORATIO +He waxes desperate with imagination. + +MARCELLUS +Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. + +HORATIO +Have after. To what issue will this come? + +MARCELLUS +Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. + +HORATIO +Heaven will direct it. + +MARCELLUS +Nay, let's follow him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the platform. + +Enter GHOST and HAMLET +HAMLET +Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further. + +Ghost +Mark me. + +HAMLET +I will. + +Ghost +My hour is almost come, +When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames +Must render up myself. + +HAMLET +Alas, poor ghost! + +Ghost +Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing +To what I shall unfold. + +HAMLET +Speak; I am bound to hear. + +Ghost +So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. + +HAMLET +What? + +Ghost +I am thy father's spirit, +Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, +And for the day confined to fast in fires, +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature +Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid +To tell the secrets of my prison-house, +I could a tale unfold whose lightest word +Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, +Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, +Thy knotted and combined locks to part +And each particular hair to stand on end, +Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: +But this eternal blazon must not be +To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! +If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- + +HAMLET +O God! + +Ghost +Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. + +HAMLET +Murder! + +Ghost +Murder most foul, as in the best it is; +But this most foul, strange and unnatural. + +HAMLET +Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift +As meditation or the thoughts of love, +May sweep to my revenge. + +Ghost +I find thee apt; +And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed +That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, +Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: +'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, +A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark +Is by a forged process of my death +Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, +The serpent that did sting thy father's life +Now wears his crown. + +HAMLET +O my prophetic soul! My uncle! + +Ghost +Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, +With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,-- +O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power +So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust +The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen: +O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! +From me, whose love was of that dignity +That it went hand in hand even with the vow +I made to her in marriage, and to decline +Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor +To those of mine! +But virtue, as it never will be moved, +Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, +So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, +Will sate itself in a celestial bed, +And prey on garbage. +But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; +Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, +My custom always of the afternoon, +Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, +With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, +And in the porches of my ears did pour +The leperous distilment; whose effect +Holds such an enmity with blood of man +That swift as quicksilver it courses through +The natural gates and alleys of the body, +And with a sudden vigour doth posset +And curd, like eager droppings into milk, +The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; +And a most instant tetter bark'd about, +Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, +All my smooth body. +Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand +Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: +Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, +Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, +No reckoning made, but sent to my account +With all my imperfections on my head: +O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! +If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; +Let not the royal bed of Denmark be +A couch for luxury and damned incest. +But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, +Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive +Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven +And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, +To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once! +The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, +And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: +Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me. + +Exit + +HAMLET +O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else? +And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart; +And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, +But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! +Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat +In this distracted globe. Remember thee! +Yea, from the table of my memory +I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, +All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, +That youth and observation copied there; +And thy commandment all alone shall live +Within the book and volume of my brain, +Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven! +O most pernicious woman! +O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! +My tables,--meet it is I set it down, +That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; +At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark: + +Writing + +So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; +It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.' +I have sworn 't. + +MARCELLUS HORATIO +[Within] My lord, my lord,-- + +MARCELLUS +[Within] Lord Hamlet,-- + +HORATIO +[Within] Heaven secure him! + +HAMLET +So be it! + +HORATIO +[Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord! + +HAMLET +Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come. + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +MARCELLUS +How is't, my noble lord? + +HORATIO +What news, my lord? + +HAMLET +O, wonderful! + +HORATIO +Good my lord, tell it. + +HAMLET +No; you'll reveal it. + +HORATIO +Not I, my lord, by heaven. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord. + +HAMLET +How say you, then; would heart of man once think it? +But you'll be secret? + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +Ay, by heaven, my lord. + +HAMLET +There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark +But he's an arrant knave. + +HORATIO +There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave +To tell us this. + +HAMLET +Why, right; you are i' the right; +And so, without more circumstance at all, +I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: +You, as your business and desire shall point you; +For every man has business and desire, +Such as it is; and for mine own poor part, +Look you, I'll go pray. + +HORATIO +These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. + +HAMLET +I'm sorry they offend you, heartily; +Yes, 'faith heartily. + +HORATIO +There's no offence, my lord. + +HAMLET +Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, +And much offence too. Touching this vision here, +It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: +For your desire to know what is between us, +O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends, +As you are friends, scholars and soldiers, +Give me one poor request. + +HORATIO +What is't, my lord? we will. + +HAMLET +Never make known what you have seen to-night. + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +My lord, we will not. + +HAMLET +Nay, but swear't. + +HORATIO +In faith, +My lord, not I. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord, in faith. + +HAMLET +Upon my sword. + +MARCELLUS +We have sworn, my lord, already. + +HAMLET +Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, +truepenny? +Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage-- +Consent to swear. + +HORATIO +Propose the oath, my lord. + +HAMLET +Never to speak of this that you have seen, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground. +Come hither, gentlemen, +And lay your hands again upon my sword: +Never to speak of this that you have heard, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast? +A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. + +HORATIO +O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! + +HAMLET +And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. +There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, +Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come; +Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, +How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself, +As I perchance hereafter shall think meet +To put an antic disposition on, +That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, +With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake, +Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, +As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' +Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' +Or such ambiguous giving out, to note +That you know aught of me: this not to do, +So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! + +They swear + +So, gentlemen, +With all my love I do commend me to you: +And what so poor a man as Hamlet is +May do, to express his love and friending to you, +God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; +And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. +The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, +That ever I was born to set it right! +Nay, come, let's go together. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS' house. + +Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO +LORD POLONIUS +Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. + +REYNALDO +I will, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, +Before you visit him, to make inquire +Of his behavior. + +REYNALDO +My lord, I did intend it. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir, +Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; +And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, +What company, at what expense; and finding +By this encompassment and drift of question +That they do know my son, come you more nearer +Than your particular demands will touch it: +Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; +As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, +And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo? + +REYNALDO +Ay, very well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well: +But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; +Addicted so and so:' and there put on him +What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank +As may dishonour him; take heed of that; +But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips +As are companions noted and most known +To youth and liberty. + +REYNALDO +As gaming, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, +Drabbing: you may go so far. + +REYNALDO +My lord, that would dishonour him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge +You must not put another scandal on him, +That he is open to incontinency; +That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly +That they may seem the taints of liberty, +The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, +A savageness in unreclaimed blood, +Of general assault. + +REYNALDO +But, my good lord,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +Wherefore should you do this? + +REYNALDO +Ay, my lord, +I would know that. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, sir, here's my drift; +And I believe, it is a fetch of wit: +You laying these slight sullies on my son, +As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you, +Your party in converse, him you would sound, +Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes +The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured +He closes with you in this consequence; +'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' +According to the phrase or the addition +Of man and country. + +REYNALDO +Very good, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I +about to say? By the mass, I was about to say +something: where did I leave? + +REYNALDO +At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' +and 'gentleman.' + +LORD POLONIUS +At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry; +He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman; +I saw him yesterday, or t' other day, +Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, +There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; +There falling out at tennis:' or perchance, +'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' +Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. +See you now; +Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth: +And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, +With windlasses and with assays of bias, +By indirections find directions out: +So by my former lecture and advice, +Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? + +REYNALDO +My lord, I have. + +LORD POLONIUS +God be wi' you; fare you well. + +REYNALDO +Good my lord! + +LORD POLONIUS +Observe his inclination in yourself. + +REYNALDO +I shall, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And let him ply his music. + +REYNALDO +Well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Farewell! + +Exit REYNALDO + +Enter OPHELIA + +How now, Ophelia! what's the matter? + +OPHELIA +O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! + +LORD POLONIUS +With what, i' the name of God? + +OPHELIA +My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, +Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; +No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, +Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; +Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; +And with a look so piteous in purport +As if he had been loosed out of hell +To speak of horrors,--he comes before me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Mad for thy love? + +OPHELIA +My lord, I do not know; +But truly, I do fear it. + +LORD POLONIUS +What said he? + +OPHELIA +He took me by the wrist and held me hard; +Then goes he to the length of all his arm; +And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, +He falls to such perusal of my face +As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; +At last, a little shaking of mine arm +And thrice his head thus waving up and down, +He raised a sigh so piteous and profound +As it did seem to shatter all his bulk +And end his being: that done, he lets me go: +And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, +He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; +For out o' doors he went without their helps, +And, to the last, bended their light on me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, go with me: I will go seek the king. +This is the very ecstasy of love, +Whose violent property fordoes itself +And leads the will to desperate undertakings +As oft as any passion under heaven +That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. +What, have you given him any hard words of late? + +OPHELIA +No, my good lord, but, as you did command, +I did repel his fetters and denied +His access to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +That hath made him mad. +I am sorry that with better heed and judgment +I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle, +And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! +By heaven, it is as proper to our age +To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions +As it is common for the younger sort +To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: +This must be known; which, being kept close, might +move +More grief to hide than hate to utter love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! +Moreover that we much did long to see you, +The need we have to use you did provoke +Our hasty sending. Something have you heard +Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it, +Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man +Resembles that it was. What it should be, +More than his father's death, that thus hath put him +So much from the understanding of himself, +I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, +That, being of so young days brought up with him, +And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior, +That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court +Some little time: so by your companies +To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, +So much as from occasion you may glean, +Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, +That, open'd, lies within our remedy. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; +And sure I am two men there are not living +To whom he more adheres. If it will please you +To show us so much gentry and good will +As to expend your time with us awhile, +For the supply and profit of our hope, +Your visitation shall receive such thanks +As fits a king's remembrance. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Both your majesties +Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, +Put your dread pleasures more into command +Than to entreaty. + +GUILDENSTERN +But we both obey, +And here give up ourselves, in the full bent +To lay our service freely at your feet, +To be commanded. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz: +And I beseech you instantly to visit +My too much changed son. Go, some of you, +And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. + +GUILDENSTERN +Heavens make our presence and our practises +Pleasant and helpful to him! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay, amen! + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, +Are joyfully return'd. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thou still hast been the father of good news. + +LORD POLONIUS +Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege, +I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, +Both to my God and to my gracious king: +And I do think, or else this brain of mine +Hunts not the trail of policy so sure +As it hath used to do, that I have found +The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. + +LORD POLONIUS +Give first admittance to the ambassadors; +My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. + +Exit POLONIUS + +He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found +The head and source of all your son's distemper. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I doubt it is no other but the main; +His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Well, we shall sift him. + +Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +Welcome, my good friends! +Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway? + +VOLTIMAND +Most fair return of greetings and desires. +Upon our first, he sent out to suppress +His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd +To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; +But, better look'd into, he truly found +It was against your highness: whereat grieved, +That so his sickness, age and impotence +Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests +On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; +Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine +Makes vow before his uncle never more +To give the assay of arms against your majesty. +Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, +Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, +And his commission to employ those soldiers, +So levied as before, against the Polack: +With an entreaty, herein further shown, + +Giving a paper + +That it might please you to give quiet pass +Through your dominions for this enterprise, +On such regards of safety and allowance +As therein are set down. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It likes us well; +And at our more consider'd time well read, +Answer, and think upon this business. +Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour: +Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: +Most welcome home! + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +This business is well ended. +My liege, and madam, to expostulate +What majesty should be, what duty is, +Why day is day, night night, and time is time, +Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. +Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, +And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, +I will be brief: your noble son is mad: +Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, +What is't but to be nothing else but mad? +But let that go. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +More matter, with less art. + +LORD POLONIUS +Madam, I swear I use no art at all. +That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity; +And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure; +But farewell it, for I will use no art. +Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains +That we find out the cause of this effect, +Or rather say, the cause of this defect, +For this effect defective comes by cause: +Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. +I have a daughter--have while she is mine-- +Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, +Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise. + +Reads + +'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most +beautified Ophelia,'-- +That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is +a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus: + +Reads + +'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.' + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Came this from Hamlet to her? + +LORD POLONIUS +Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. + +Reads + +'Doubt thou the stars are fire; +Doubt that the sun doth move; +Doubt truth to be a liar; +But never doubt I love. +'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; +I have not art to reckon my groans: but that +I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. +'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst +this machine is to him, HAMLET.' +This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me, +And more above, hath his solicitings, +As they fell out by time, by means and place, +All given to mine ear. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But how hath she +Received his love? + +LORD POLONIUS +What do you think of me? + +KING CLAUDIUS +As of a man faithful and honourable. + +LORD POLONIUS +I would fain prove so. But what might you think, +When I had seen this hot love on the wing-- +As I perceived it, I must tell you that, +Before my daughter told me--what might you, +Or my dear majesty your queen here, think, +If I had play'd the desk or table-book, +Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, +Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; +What might you think? No, I went round to work, +And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: +'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star; +This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her, +That she should lock herself from his resort, +Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. +Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; +And he, repulsed--a short tale to make-- +Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, +Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, +Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, +Into the madness wherein now he raves, +And all we mourn for. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Do you think 'tis this? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +It may be, very likely. + +LORD POLONIUS +Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that-- +That I have positively said 'Tis so,' +When it proved otherwise? + +KING CLAUDIUS +Not that I know. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Pointing to his head and shoulder] +Take this from this, if this be otherwise: +If circumstances lead me, I will find +Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed +Within the centre. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How may we try it further? + +LORD POLONIUS +You know, sometimes he walks four hours together +Here in the lobby. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +So he does indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: +Be you and I behind an arras then; +Mark the encounter: if he love her not +And be not from his reason fall'n thereon, +Let me be no assistant for a state, +But keep a farm and carters. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We will try it. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. + +LORD POLONIUS +Away, I do beseech you, both away: +I'll board him presently. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and Attendants + +Enter HAMLET, reading + +O, give me leave: +How does my good Lord Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Well, God-a-mercy. + +LORD POLONIUS +Do you know me, my lord? + +HAMLET +Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. + +LORD POLONIUS +Not I, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then I would you were so honest a man. + +LORD POLONIUS +Honest, my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be +one man picked out of ten thousand. + +LORD POLONIUS +That's very true, my lord. + +HAMLET +For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a +god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter? + +LORD POLONIUS +I have, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a +blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive. +Friend, look to 't. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my +daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I +was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and +truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for +love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. +What do you read, my lord? + +HAMLET +Words, words, words. + +LORD POLONIUS +What is the matter, my lord? + +HAMLET +Between who? + +LORD POLONIUS +I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. + +HAMLET +Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here +that old men have grey beards, that their faces are +wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and +plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of +wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, +though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet +I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for +yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab +you could go backward. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method +in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord? + +HAMLET +Into my grave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Indeed, that is out o' the air. + +Aside + +How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness +that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity +could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will +leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of +meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable +lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. + +HAMLET +You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will +more willingly part withal: except my life, except +my life, except my life. + +LORD POLONIUS +Fare you well, my lord. + +HAMLET +These tedious old fools! + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +LORD POLONIUS +You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. + +ROSENCRANTZ +[To POLONIUS] God save you, sir! + +Exit POLONIUS + +GUILDENSTERN +My honoured lord! + +ROSENCRANTZ +My most dear lord! + +HAMLET +My excellent good friends! How dost thou, +Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? + +ROSENCRANTZ +As the indifferent children of the earth. + +GUILDENSTERN +Happy, in that we are not over-happy; +On fortune's cap we are not the very button. + +HAMLET +Nor the soles of her shoe? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Neither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of +her favours? + +GUILDENSTERN +'Faith, her privates we. + +HAMLET +In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she +is a strumpet. What's the news? + +ROSENCRANTZ +None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest. + +HAMLET +Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true. +Let me question more in particular: what have you, +my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, +that she sends you to prison hither? + +GUILDENSTERN +Prison, my lord! + +HAMLET +Denmark's a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then is the world one. + +HAMLET +A goodly one; in which there are many confines, +wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We think not so, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing +either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me +it is a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too +narrow for your mind. + +HAMLET +O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count +myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I +have bad dreams. + +GUILDENSTERN +Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very +substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. + +HAMLET +A dream itself is but a shadow. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a +quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. + +HAMLET +Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and +outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we +to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We'll wait upon you. + +HAMLET +No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest +of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest +man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the +beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. + +HAMLET +Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I +thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are +too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it +your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, +deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +What should we say, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent +for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks +which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: +I know the good king and queen have sent for you. + +ROSENCRANTZ +To what end, my lord? + +HAMLET +That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by +the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of +our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved +love, and by what more dear a better proposer could +charge you withal, be even and direct with me, +whether you were sent for, or no? + +ROSENCRANTZ +[Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you? + +HAMLET +[Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you +love me, hold not off. + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, we were sent for. + +HAMLET +I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation +prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king +and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but +wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all +custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily +with my disposition that this goodly frame, the +earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most +excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave +o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted +with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to +me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. +What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! +how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how +express and admirable! in action how like an angel! +in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the +world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, +what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not +me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling +you seem to say so. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. + +HAMLET +Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what +lenten entertainment the players shall receive from +you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they +coming, to offer you service. + +HAMLET +He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty +shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight +shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not +sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part +in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose +lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall +say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt +for't. What players are they? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Even those you were wont to take delight in, the +tragedians of the city. + +HAMLET +How chances it they travel? their residence, both +in reputation and profit, was better both ways. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I think their inhibition comes by the means of the +late innovation. + +HAMLET +Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was +in the city? are they so followed? + +ROSENCRANTZ +No, indeed, are they not. + +HAMLET +How comes it? do they grow rusty? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but +there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, +that cry out on the top of question, and are most +tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the +fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they +call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of +goose-quills and dare scarce come thither. + +HAMLET +What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are +they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no +longer than they can sing? will they not say +afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common +players--as it is most like, if their means are no +better--their writers do them wrong, to make them +exclaim against their own succession? + +ROSENCRANTZ +'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and +the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to +controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid +for argument, unless the poet and the player went to +cuffs in the question. + +HAMLET +Is't possible? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, there has been much throwing about of brains. + +HAMLET +Do the boys carry it away? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too. + +HAMLET +It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of +Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while +my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an +hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little. +'Sblood, there is something in this more than +natural, if philosophy could find it out. + +Flourish of trumpets within + +GUILDENSTERN +There are the players. + +HAMLET +Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, +come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion +and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb, +lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, +must show fairly outward, should more appear like +entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my +uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. + +GUILDENSTERN +In what, my dear lord? + +HAMLET +I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is +southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +Well be with you, gentlemen! + +HAMLET +Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a +hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet +out of his swaddling-clouts. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Happily he's the second time come to them; for they +say an old man is twice a child. + +HAMLET +I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; +mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; +'twas so indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I have news to tell you. + +HAMLET +My lord, I have news to tell you. +When Roscius was an actor in Rome,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The actors are come hither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Buz, buz! + +LORD POLONIUS +Upon mine honour,-- + +HAMLET +Then came each actor on his ass,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, +comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, +historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical- +comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or +poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor +Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the +liberty, these are the only men. + +HAMLET +O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! + +LORD POLONIUS +What a treasure had he, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'One fair daughter and no more, +The which he loved passing well.' + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Still on my daughter. + +HAMLET +Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah? + +LORD POLONIUS +If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter +that I love passing well. + +HAMLET +Nay, that follows not. + +LORD POLONIUS +What follows, then, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'As by lot, God wot,' +and then, you know, +'It came to pass, as most like it was,'-- +the first row of the pious chanson will show you +more; for look, where my abridgement comes. + +Enter four or five Players + +You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad +to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old +friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last: +comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young +lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is +nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the +altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like +apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the +ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en +to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see: +we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste +of your quality; come, a passionate speech. + +First Player +What speech, my lord? + +HAMLET +I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was +never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the +play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas +caviare to the general: but it was--as I received +it, and others, whose judgments in such matters +cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well +digested in the scenes, set down with as much +modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there +were no sallets in the lines to make the matter +savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might +indict the author of affectation; but called it an +honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very +much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I +chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and +thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of +Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin +at this line: let me see, let me see-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'-- +it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, +Black as his purpose, did the night resemble +When he lay couched in the ominous horse, +Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd +With heraldry more dismal; head to foot +Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd +With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, +Baked and impasted with the parching streets, +That lend a tyrannous and damned light +To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire, +And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore, +With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus +Old grandsire Priam seeks.' +So, proceed you. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and +good discretion. + +First Player +'Anon he finds him +Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, +Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, +Repugnant to command: unequal match'd, +Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; +But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword +The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, +Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top +Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash +Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword, +Which was declining on the milky head +Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: +So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, +And like a neutral to his will and matter, +Did nothing. +But, as we often see, against some storm, +A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, +The bold winds speechless and the orb below +As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder +Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause, +Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work; +And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall +On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne +With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword +Now falls on Priam. +Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, +In general synod 'take away her power; +Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, +And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, +As low as to the fiends!' + +LORD POLONIUS +This is too long. + +HAMLET +It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee, +say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he +sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba. + +First Player +'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--' + +HAMLET +'The mobled queen?' + +LORD POLONIUS +That's good; 'mobled queen' is good. + +First Player +'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames +With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head +Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, +About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins, +A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; +Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, +'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have +pronounced: +But if the gods themselves did see her then +When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport +In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, +The instant burst of clamour that she made, +Unless things mortal move them not at all, +Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, +And passion in the gods.' + +LORD POLONIUS +Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has +tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more. + +HAMLET +'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. +Good my lord, will you see the players well +bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for +they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the +time: after your death you were better have a bad +epitaph than their ill report while you live. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I will use them according to their desert. + +HAMLET +God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man +after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? +Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less +they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. +Take them in. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, sirs. + +HAMLET +Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. + +Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First + +Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the +Murder of Gonzago? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, +study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which +I would set down and insert in't, could you not? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him +not. + +Exit First Player + +My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are +welcome to Elsinore. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, so, God be wi' ye; + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Now I am alone. +O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! +Is it not monstrous that this player here, +But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, +Could force his soul so to his own conceit +That from her working all his visage wann'd, +Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, +A broken voice, and his whole function suiting +With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! +For Hecuba! +What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, +That he should weep for her? What would he do, +Had he the motive and the cue for passion +That I have? He would drown the stage with tears +And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, +Make mad the guilty and appal the free, +Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed +The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, +A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, +Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, +And can say nothing; no, not for a king, +Upon whose property and most dear life +A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? +Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? +Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? +Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, +As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? +Ha! +'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be +But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall +To make oppression bitter, or ere this +I should have fatted all the region kites +With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain! +Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! +O, vengeance! +Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, +That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, +Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, +Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, +And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, +A scullion! +Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard +That guilty creatures sitting at a play +Have by the very cunning of the scene +Been struck so to the soul that presently +They have proclaim'd their malefactions; +For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak +With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players +Play something like the murder of my father +Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks; +I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, +I know my course. The spirit that I have seen +May be the devil: and the devil hath power +To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps +Out of my weakness and my melancholy, +As he is very potent with such spirits, +Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds +More relative than this: the play 's the thing +Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +And can you, by no drift of circumstance, +Get from him why he puts on this confusion, +Grating so harshly all his days of quiet +With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? + +ROSENCRANTZ +He does confess he feels himself distracted; +But from what cause he will by no means speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, +But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, +When we would bring him on to some confession +Of his true state. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did he receive you well? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Most like a gentleman. + +GUILDENSTERN +But with much forcing of his disposition. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Niggard of question; but, of our demands, +Most free in his reply. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did you assay him? +To any pastime? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Madam, it so fell out, that certain players +We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him; +And there did seem in him a kind of joy +To hear of it: they are about the court, +And, as I think, they have already order +This night to play before him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Tis most true: +And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties +To hear and see the matter. + +KING CLAUDIUS +With all my heart; and it doth much content me +To hear him so inclined. +Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, +And drive his purpose on to these delights. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We shall, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; +For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, +That he, as 'twere by accident, may here +Affront Ophelia: +Her father and myself, lawful espials, +Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen, +We may of their encounter frankly judge, +And gather by him, as he is behaved, +If 't be the affliction of his love or no +That thus he suffers for. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I shall obey you. +And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish +That your good beauties be the happy cause +Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues +Will bring him to his wonted way again, +To both your honours. + +OPHELIA +Madam, I wish it may. + +Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE + +LORD POLONIUS +Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you, +We will bestow ourselves. + +To OPHELIA + +Read on this book; +That show of such an exercise may colour +Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,-- +'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage +And pious action we do sugar o'er +The devil himself. + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Aside] O, 'tis too true! +How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! +The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, +Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it +Than is my deed to my most painted word: +O heavy burthen! + +LORD POLONIUS +I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +To be, or not to be: that is the question: +Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer +The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, +Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, +And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; +No more; and by a sleep to say we end +The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks +That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation +Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; +To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; +For in that sleep of death what dreams may come +When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, +Must give us pause: there's the respect +That makes calamity of so long life; +For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, +The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, +The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, +The insolence of office and the spurns +That patient merit of the unworthy takes, +When he himself might his quietus make +With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, +To grunt and sweat under a weary life, +But that the dread of something after death, +The undiscover'd country from whose bourn +No traveller returns, puzzles the will +And makes us rather bear those ills we have +Than fly to others that we know not of? +Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; +And thus the native hue of resolution +Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, +And enterprises of great pith and moment +With this regard their currents turn awry, +And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! +The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons +Be all my sins remember'd. + +OPHELIA +Good my lord, +How does your honour for this many a day? + +HAMLET +I humbly thank you; well, well, well. + +OPHELIA +My lord, I have remembrances of yours, +That I have longed long to re-deliver; +I pray you, now receive them. + +HAMLET +No, not I; +I never gave you aught. + +OPHELIA +My honour'd lord, you know right well you did; +And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed +As made the things more rich: their perfume lost, +Take these again; for to the noble mind +Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. +There, my lord. + +HAMLET +Ha, ha! are you honest? + +OPHELIA +My lord? + +HAMLET +Are you fair? + +OPHELIA +What means your lordship? + +HAMLET +That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should +admit no discourse to your beauty. + +OPHELIA +Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than +with honesty? + +HAMLET +Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner +transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the +force of honesty can translate beauty into his +likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the +time gives it proof. I did love you once. + +OPHELIA +Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + +HAMLET +You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot +so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of +it: I loved you not. + +OPHELIA +I was the more deceived. + +HAMLET +Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a +breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; +but yet I could accuse me of such things that it +were better my mother had not borne me: I am very +proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at +my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, +imagination to give them shape, or time to act them +in. What should such fellows as I do crawling +between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, +all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. +Where's your father? + +OPHELIA +At home, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the +fool no where but in's own house. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O, help him, you sweet heavens! + +HAMLET +If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for +thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as +snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a +nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs +marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough +what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, +and quickly too. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O heavenly powers, restore him! + +HAMLET +I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God +has given you one face, and you make yourselves +another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and +nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness +your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath +made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: +those that are married already, all but one, shall +live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a +nunnery, go. + +Exit + +OPHELIA +O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! +The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; +The expectancy and rose of the fair state, +The glass of fashion and the mould of form, +The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! +And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, +That suck'd the honey of his music vows, +Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, +Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; +That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth +Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me, +To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! + +Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +KING CLAUDIUS +Love! his affections do not that way tend; +Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, +Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, +O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; +And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose +Will be some danger: which for to prevent, +I have in quick determination +Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England, +For the demand of our neglected tribute +Haply the seas and countries different +With variable objects shall expel +This something-settled matter in his heart, +Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus +From fashion of himself. What think you on't? + +LORD POLONIUS +It shall do well: but yet do I believe +The origin and commencement of his grief +Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia! +You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; +We heard it all. My lord, do as you please; +But, if you hold it fit, after the play +Let his queen mother all alone entreat him +To show his grief: let her be round with him; +And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear +Of all their conference. If she find him not, +To England send him, or confine him where +Your wisdom best shall think. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It shall be so: +Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A hall in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET and Players +HAMLET +Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to +you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, +as many of your players do, I had as lief the +town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air +too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; +for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, +the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget +a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it +offends me to the soul to hear a robustious +periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to +very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who +for the most part are capable of nothing but +inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such +a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it +out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. + +First Player +I warrant your honour. + +HAMLET +Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion +be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the +word to the action; with this special o'erstep not +the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is +from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the +first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the +mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, +scorn her own image, and the very age and body of +the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, +or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful +laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the +censure of the which one must in your allowance +o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be +players that I have seen play, and heard others +praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, +that, neither having the accent of Christians nor +the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so +strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of +nature's journeymen had made men and not made them +well, they imitated humanity so abominably. + +First Player +I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, +sir. + +HAMLET +O, reform it altogether. And let those that play +your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; +for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to +set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh +too; though, in the mean time, some necessary +question of the play be then to be considered: +that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition +in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready. + +Exeunt Players + +Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN + +How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work? + +LORD POLONIUS +And the queen too, and that presently. + +HAMLET +Bid the players make haste. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Will you two help to hasten them? + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +HAMLET +What ho! Horatio! + +Enter HORATIO + +HORATIO +Here, sweet lord, at your service. + +HAMLET +Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man +As e'er my conversation coped withal. + +HORATIO +O, my dear lord,-- + +HAMLET +Nay, do not think I flatter; +For what advancement may I hope from thee +That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, +To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? +No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, +And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee +Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? +Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice +And could of men distinguish, her election +Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been +As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, +A man that fortune's buffets and rewards +Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those +Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, +That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger +To sound what stop she please. Give me that man +That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him +In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, +As I do thee.--Something too much of this.-- +There is a play to-night before the king; +One scene of it comes near the circumstance +Which I have told thee of my father's death: +I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, +Even with the very comment of thy soul +Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt +Do not itself unkennel in one speech, +It is a damned ghost that we have seen, +And my imaginations are as foul +As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; +For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, +And after we will both our judgments join +In censure of his seeming. + +HORATIO +Well, my lord: +If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, +And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. + +HAMLET +They are coming to the play; I must be idle: +Get you a place. + +Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +KING CLAUDIUS +How fares our cousin Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat +the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so. + +KING CLAUDIUS +I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words +are not mine. + +HAMLET +No, nor mine now. + +To POLONIUS + +My lord, you played once i' the university, you say? + +LORD POLONIUS +That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor. + +HAMLET +What did you enact? + +LORD POLONIUS +I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the +Capitol; Brutus killed me. + +HAMLET +It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf +there. Be the players ready? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. + +HAMLET +No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. + +LORD POLONIUS +[To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that? + +HAMLET +Lady, shall I lie in your lap? + +Lying down at OPHELIA's feet + +OPHELIA +No, my lord. + +HAMLET +I mean, my head upon your lap? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Do you think I meant country matters? + +OPHELIA +I think nothing, my lord. + +HAMLET +That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. + +OPHELIA +What is, my lord? + +HAMLET +Nothing. + +OPHELIA +You are merry, my lord. + +HAMLET +Who, I? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do +but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my +mother looks, and my father died within these two hours. + +OPHELIA +Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. + +HAMLET +So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for +I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two +months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's +hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half +a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches, +then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with +the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O, +the hobby-horse is forgot.' + +Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters + +Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love + +Exeunt + +OPHELIA +What means this, my lord? + +HAMLET +Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. + +OPHELIA +Belike this show imports the argument of the play. + +Enter Prologue + +HAMLET +We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot +keep counsel; they'll tell all. + +OPHELIA +Will he tell us what this show meant? + +HAMLET +Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you +ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. + +OPHELIA +You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play. + +Prologue +For us, and for our tragedy, +Here stooping to your clemency, +We beg your hearing patiently. + +Exit + +HAMLET +Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? + +OPHELIA +'Tis brief, my lord. + +HAMLET +As woman's love. + +Enter two Players, King and Queen + +Player King +Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round +Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, +And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen +About the world have times twelve thirties been, +Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands +Unite commutual in most sacred bands. + +Player Queen +So many journeys may the sun and moon +Make us again count o'er ere love be done! +But, woe is me, you are so sick of late, +So far from cheer and from your former state, +That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, +Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must: +For women's fear and love holds quantity; +In neither aught, or in extremity. +Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; +And as my love is sized, my fear is so: +Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; +Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. + +Player King +'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; +My operant powers their functions leave to do: +And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, +Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind +For husband shalt thou-- + +Player Queen +O, confound the rest! +Such love must needs be treason in my breast: +In second husband let me be accurst! +None wed the second but who kill'd the first. + +HAMLET +[Aside] Wormwood, wormwood. + +Player Queen +The instances that second marriage move +Are base respects of thrift, but none of love: +A second time I kill my husband dead, +When second husband kisses me in bed. + +Player King +I do believe you think what now you speak; +But what we do determine oft we break. +Purpose is but the slave to memory, +Of violent birth, but poor validity; +Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; +But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. +Most necessary 'tis that we forget +To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt: +What to ourselves in passion we propose, +The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. +The violence of either grief or joy +Their own enactures with themselves destroy: +Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; +Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. +This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange +That even our loves should with our fortunes change; +For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, +Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. +The great man down, you mark his favourite flies; +The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. +And hitherto doth love on fortune tend; +For who not needs shall never lack a friend, +And who in want a hollow friend doth try, +Directly seasons him his enemy. +But, orderly to end where I begun, +Our wills and fates do so contrary run +That our devices still are overthrown; +Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: +So think thou wilt no second husband wed; +But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. + +Player Queen +Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! +Sport and repose lock from me day and night! +To desperation turn my trust and hope! +An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope! +Each opposite that blanks the face of joy +Meet what I would have well and it destroy! +Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, +If, once a widow, ever I be wife! + +HAMLET +If she should break it now! + +Player King +'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile; +My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile +The tedious day with sleep. + +Sleeps + +Player Queen +Sleep rock thy brain, +And never come mischance between us twain! + +Exit + +HAMLET +Madam, how like you this play? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +The lady protests too much, methinks. + +HAMLET +O, but she'll keep her word. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't? + +HAMLET +No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence +i' the world. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What do you call the play? + +HAMLET +The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play +is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is +the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see +anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o' +that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it +touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our +withers are unwrung. + +Enter LUCIANUS + +This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. + +OPHELIA +You are as good as a chorus, my lord. + +HAMLET +I could interpret between you and your love, if I +could see the puppets dallying. + +OPHELIA +You are keen, my lord, you are keen. + +HAMLET +It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. + +OPHELIA +Still better, and worse. + +HAMLET +So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer; +pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come: +'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' + +LUCIANUS +Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; +Confederate season, else no creature seeing; +Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, +With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, +Thy natural magic and dire property, +On wholesome life usurp immediately. + +Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears + +HAMLET +He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His +name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in +choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer +gets the love of Gonzago's wife. + +OPHELIA +The king rises. + +HAMLET +What, frighted with false fire! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +How fares my lord? + +LORD POLONIUS +Give o'er the play. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Give me some light: away! + +All +Lights, lights, lights! + +Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO + +HAMLET +Why, let the stricken deer go weep, +The hart ungalled play; +For some must watch, while some must sleep: +So runs the world away. +Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if +the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two +Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a +fellowship in a cry of players, sir? + +HORATIO +Half a share. + +HAMLET +A whole one, I. +For thou dost know, O Damon dear, +This realm dismantled was +Of Jove himself; and now reigns here +A very, very--pajock. + +HORATIO +You might have rhymed. + +HAMLET +O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a +thousand pound. Didst perceive? + +HORATIO +Very well, my lord. + +HAMLET +Upon the talk of the poisoning? + +HORATIO +I did very well note him. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders! +For if the king like not the comedy, +Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. +Come, some music! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. + +HAMLET +Sir, a whole history. + +GUILDENSTERN +The king, sir,-- + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, what of him? + +GUILDENSTERN +Is in his retirement marvellous distempered. + +HAMLET +With drink, sir? + +GUILDENSTERN +No, my lord, rather with choler. + +HAMLET +Your wisdom should show itself more richer to +signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him +to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far +more choler. + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and +start not so wildly from my affair. + +HAMLET +I am tame, sir: pronounce. + +GUILDENSTERN +The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of +spirit, hath sent me to you. + +HAMLET +You are welcome. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right +breed. If it shall please you to make me a +wholesome answer, I will do your mother's +commandment: if not, your pardon and my return +shall be the end of my business. + +HAMLET +Sir, I cannot. + +GUILDENSTERN +What, my lord? + +HAMLET +Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but, +sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; +or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no +more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,-- + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her +into amazement and admiration. + +HAMLET +O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But +is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's +admiration? Impart. + +ROSENCRANTZ +She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you +go to bed. + +HAMLET +We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have +you any further trade with us? + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you once did love me. + +HAMLET +So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you +do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if +you deny your griefs to your friend. + +HAMLET +Sir, I lack advancement. + +ROSENCRANTZ +How can that be, when you have the voice of the king +himself for your succession in Denmark? + +HAMLET +Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb +is something musty. + +Re-enter Players with recorders + +O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with +you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me, +as if you would drive me into a toil? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too +unmannerly. + +HAMLET +I do not well understand that. Will you play upon +this pipe? + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I pray you. + +GUILDENSTERN +Believe me, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I do beseech you. + +GUILDENSTERN +I know no touch of it, my lord. + +HAMLET +'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with +your lingers and thumb, give it breath with your +mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. +Look you, these are the stops. + +GUILDENSTERN +But these cannot I command to any utterance of +harmony; I have not the skill. + +HAMLET +Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of +me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know +my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my +mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to +the top of my compass: and there is much music, +excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot +you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am +easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what +instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you +cannot play upon me. + +Enter POLONIUS + +God bless you, sir! + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, the queen would speak with you, and +presently. + +HAMLET +Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? + +LORD POLONIUS +By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. + +HAMLET +Methinks it is like a weasel. + +LORD POLONIUS +It is backed like a weasel. + +HAMLET +Or like a whale? + +LORD POLONIUS +Very like a whale. + +HAMLET +Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool +me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by. + +LORD POLONIUS +I will say so. + +HAMLET +By and by is easily said. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Leave me, friends. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +Tis now the very witching time of night, +When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out +Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, +And do such bitter business as the day +Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother. +O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever +The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom: +Let me be cruel, not unnatural: +I will speak daggers to her, but use none; +My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites; +How in my words soever she be shent, +To give them seals never, my soul, consent! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +I like him not, nor stands it safe with us +To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; +I your commission will forthwith dispatch, +And he to England shall along with you: +The terms of our estate may not endure +Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow +Out of his lunacies. + +GUILDENSTERN +We will ourselves provide: +Most holy and religious fear it is +To keep those many many bodies safe +That live and feed upon your majesty. + +ROSENCRANTZ +The single and peculiar life is bound, +With all the strength and armour of the mind, +To keep itself from noyance; but much more +That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest +The lives of many. The cease of majesty +Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw +What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel, +Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, +To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things +Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, +Each small annexment, petty consequence, +Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone +Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; +For we will fetters put upon this fear, +Which now goes too free-footed. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will haste us. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, he's going to his mother's closet: +Behind the arras I'll convey myself, +To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home: +And, as you said, and wisely was it said, +'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, +Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear +The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege: +I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, +And tell you what I know. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, dear my lord. + +Exit POLONIUS + +O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven; +It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, +A brother's murder. Pray can I not, +Though inclination be as sharp as will: +My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; +And, like a man to double business bound, +I stand in pause where I shall first begin, +And both neglect. What if this cursed hand +Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, +Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens +To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy +But to confront the visage of offence? +And what's in prayer but this two-fold force, +To be forestalled ere we come to fall, +Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up; +My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer +Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'? +That cannot be; since I am still possess'd +Of those effects for which I did the murder, +My crown, mine own ambition and my queen. +May one be pardon'd and retain the offence? +In the corrupted currents of this world +Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, +And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself +Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; +There is no shuffling, there the action lies +In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd, +Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, +To give in evidence. What then? what rests? +Try what repentance can: what can it not? +Yet what can it when one can not repent? +O wretched state! O bosom black as death! +O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, +Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! +Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, +Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe! +All may be well. + +Retires and kneels + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now might I do it pat, now he is praying; +And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven; +And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd: +A villain kills my father; and for that, +I, his sole son, do this same villain send +To heaven. +O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. +He took my father grossly, full of bread; +With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; +And how his audit stands who knows save heaven? +But in our circumstance and course of thought, +'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged, +To take him in the purging of his soul, +When he is fit and season'd for his passage? +No! +Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent: +When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, +Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed; +At gaming, swearing, or about some act +That has no relish of salvation in't; +Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, +And that his soul may be as damn'd and black +As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays: +This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: +Words without thoughts never to heaven go. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The Queen's closet. + +Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS +LORD POLONIUS +He will come straight. Look you lay home to him: +Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, +And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between +Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here. +Pray you, be round with him. + +HAMLET +[Within] Mother, mother, mother! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I'll warrant you, +Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming. + +POLONIUS hides behind the arras + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now, mother, what's the matter? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. + +HAMLET +Mother, you have my father much offended. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. + +HAMLET +Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Why, how now, Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What's the matter now? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Have you forgot me? + +HAMLET +No, by the rood, not so: +You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; +And--would it were not so!--you are my mother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. + +HAMLET +Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge; +You go not till I set you up a glass +Where you may see the inmost part of you. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me? +Help, help, ho! + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help! + +HAMLET +[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! + +Makes a pass through the arras + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] O, I am slain! + +Falls and dies + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O me, what hast thou done? + +HAMLET +Nay, I know not: +Is it the king? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! + +HAMLET +A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, +As kill a king, and marry with his brother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +As kill a king! + +HAMLET +Ay, lady, 'twas my word. + +Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS + +Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! +I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune; +Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. +Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down, +And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, +If it be made of penetrable stuff, +If damned custom have not brass'd it so +That it is proof and bulwark against sense. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue +In noise so rude against me? + +HAMLET +Such an act +That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, +Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose +From the fair forehead of an innocent love +And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows +As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed +As from the body of contraction plucks +The very soul, and sweet religion makes +A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: +Yea, this solidity and compound mass, +With tristful visage, as against the doom, +Is thought-sick at the act. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay me, what act, +That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? + +HAMLET +Look here, upon this picture, and on this, +The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. +See, what a grace was seated on this brow; +Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; +An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; +A station like the herald Mercury +New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; +A combination and a form indeed, +Where every god did seem to set his seal, +To give the world assurance of a man: +This was your husband. Look you now, what follows: +Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear, +Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? +Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, +And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? +You cannot call it love; for at your age +The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, +And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment +Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, +Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense +Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err, +Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd +But it reserved some quantity of choice, +To serve in such a difference. What devil was't +That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind? +Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, +Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, +Or but a sickly part of one true sense +Could not so mope. +O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, +If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, +To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, +And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame +When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, +Since frost itself as actively doth burn +And reason panders will. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, speak no more: +Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; +And there I see such black and grained spots +As will not leave their tinct. + +HAMLET +Nay, but to live +In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, +Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love +Over the nasty sty,-- + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, speak to me no more; +These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; +No more, sweet Hamlet! + +HAMLET +A murderer and a villain; +A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe +Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; +A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, +That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, +And put it in his pocket! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No more! + +HAMLET +A king of shreds and patches,-- + +Enter Ghost + +Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, +You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, he's mad! + +HAMLET +Do you not come your tardy son to chide, +That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by +The important acting of your dread command? O, say! + +Ghost +Do not forget: this visitation +Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. +But, look, amazement on thy mother sits: +O, step between her and her fighting soul: +Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works: +Speak to her, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +How is it with you, lady? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, how is't with you, +That you do bend your eye on vacancy +And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? +Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; +And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, +Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, +Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, +Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper +Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? + +HAMLET +On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares! +His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, +Would make them capable. Do not look upon me; +Lest with this piteous action you convert +My stern effects: then what I have to do +Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To whom do you speak this? + +HAMLET +Do you see nothing there? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. + +HAMLET +Nor did you nothing hear? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No, nothing but ourselves. + +HAMLET +Why, look you there! look, how it steals away! +My father, in his habit as he lived! +Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! + +Exit Ghost + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +This the very coinage of your brain: +This bodiless creation ecstasy +Is very cunning in. + +HAMLET +Ecstasy! +My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, +And makes as healthful music: it is not madness +That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, +And I the matter will re-word; which madness +Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, +Lay not that mattering unction to your soul, +That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: +It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, +Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, +Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; +Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; +And do not spread the compost on the weeds, +To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; +For in the fatness of these pursy times +Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, +Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. + +HAMLET +O, throw away the worser part of it, +And live the purer with the other half. +Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; +Assume a virtue, if you have it not. +That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, +Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, +That to the use of actions fair and good +He likewise gives a frock or livery, +That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night, +And that shall lend a kind of easiness +To the next abstinence: the next more easy; +For use almost can change the stamp of nature, +And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out +With wondrous potency. Once more, good night: +And when you are desirous to be bless'd, +I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, + +Pointing to POLONIUS + +I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, +To punish me with this and this with me, +That I must be their scourge and minister. +I will bestow him, and will answer well +The death I gave him. So, again, good night. +I must be cruel, only to be kind: +Thus bad begins and worse remains behind. +One word more, good lady. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What shall I do? + +HAMLET +Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: +Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; +Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; +And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, +Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, +Make you to ravel all this matter out, +That I essentially am not in madness, +But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; +For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, +Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, +Such dear concernings hide? who would do so? +No, in despite of sense and secrecy, +Unpeg the basket on the house's top. +Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, +To try conclusions, in the basket creep, +And break your own neck down. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, +And breath of life, I have no life to breathe +What thou hast said to me. + +HAMLET +I must to England; you know that? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alack, +I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. + +HAMLET +There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows, +Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, +They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, +And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; +For 'tis the sport to have the engineer +Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard +But I will delve one yard below their mines, +And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet, +When in one line two crafts directly meet. +This man shall set me packing: +I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. +Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor +Is now most still, most secret and most grave, +Who was in life a foolish prating knave. +Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. +Good night, mother. + +Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves: +You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them. +Where is your son? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Bestow this place on us a little while. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! + +KING CLAUDIUS +What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend +Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit, +Behind the arras hearing something stir, +Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!' +And, in this brainish apprehension, kills +The unseen good old man. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O heavy deed! +It had been so with us, had we been there: +His liberty is full of threats to all; +To you yourself, to us, to every one. +Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? +It will be laid to us, whose providence +Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt, +This mad young man: but so much was our love, +We would not understand what was most fit; +But, like the owner of a foul disease, +To keep it from divulging, let it feed +Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: +O'er whom his very madness, like some ore +Among a mineral of metals base, +Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O Gertrude, come away! +The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, +But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed +We must, with all our majesty and skill, +Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Friends both, go join you with some further aid: +Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, +And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him: +Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body +Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends; +And let them know, both what we mean to do, +And what's untimely done. O, come away! +My soul is full of discord and dismay. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another room in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET +HAMLET +Safely stowed. + +ROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN: +[Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What noise? who calls on Hamlet? +O, here they come. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +ROSENCRANTZ +What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? + +HAMLET +Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence +And bear it to the chapel. + +HAMLET +Do not believe it. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Believe what? + +HAMLET +That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. +Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what +replication should be made by the son of a king? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Take you me for a sponge, my lord? + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his +rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the +king best service in the end: he keeps them, like +an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to +be last swallowed: when he needs what you have +gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you +shall be dry again. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I understand you not, my lord. + +HAMLET +I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a +foolish ear. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go +with us to the king. + +HAMLET +The body is with the king, but the king is not with +the body. The king is a thing-- + +GUILDENSTERN +A thing, my lord! + +HAMLET +Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Another room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, attended +KING CLAUDIUS +I have sent to seek him, and to find the body. +How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! +Yet must not we put the strong law on him: +He's loved of the distracted multitude, +Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; +And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd, +But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even, +This sudden sending him away must seem +Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown +By desperate appliance are relieved, +Or not at all. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ + +How now! what hath befall'n? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, +We cannot get from him. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But where is he? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Bring him before us. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord. + +Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? + +HAMLET +At supper. + +KING CLAUDIUS +At supper! where? + +HAMLET +Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain +convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your +worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all +creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for +maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but +variable service, two dishes, but to one table: +that's the end. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Alas, alas! + +HAMLET +A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a +king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What dost you mean by this? + +HAMLET +Nothing but to show you how a king may go a +progress through the guts of a beggar. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Where is Polonius? + +HAMLET +In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger +find him not there, seek him i' the other place +yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within +this month, you shall nose him as you go up the +stairs into the lobby. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Go seek him there. + +To some Attendants + +HAMLET +He will stay till ye come. + +Exeunt Attendants + +KING CLAUDIUS +Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-- +Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve +For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence +With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself; +The bark is ready, and the wind at help, +The associates tend, and every thing is bent +For England. + +HAMLET +For England! + +KING CLAUDIUS +Ay, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +Good. + +KING CLAUDIUS +So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. + +HAMLET +I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for +England! Farewell, dear mother. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thy loving father, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man +and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England! + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard; +Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night: +Away! for every thing is seal'd and done +That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught-- +As my great power thereof may give thee sense, +Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red +After the Danish sword, and thy free awe +Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set +Our sovereign process; which imports at full, +By letters congruing to that effect, +The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; +For like the hectic in my blood he rages, +And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done, +Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark. + +Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; +Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras +Craves the conveyance of a promised march +Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. +If that his majesty would aught with us, +We shall express our duty in his eye; +And let him know so. + +Captain +I will do't, my lord. + +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go softly on. + +Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers + +Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +HAMLET +Good sir, whose powers are these? + +Captain +They are of Norway, sir. + +HAMLET +How purposed, sir, I pray you? + +Captain +Against some part of Poland. + +HAMLET +Who commands them, sir? + +Captain +The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras. + +HAMLET +Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, +Or for some frontier? + +Captain +Truly to speak, and with no addition, +We go to gain a little patch of ground +That hath in it no profit but the name. +To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; +Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole +A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. + +HAMLET +Why, then the Polack never will defend it. + +Captain +Yes, it is already garrison'd. + +HAMLET +Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats +Will not debate the question of this straw: +This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace, +That inward breaks, and shows no cause without +Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir. + +All's Well That Ends Well +Shakespeare homepage | All's Well That Ends Well | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black +COUNTESS +In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. + +BERTRAM +And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death +anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to +whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. + +LAFEU +You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, +sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times +good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose +worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather +than lack it where there is such abundance. + +COUNTESS +What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? + +LAFEU +He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose +practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and +finds no other advantage in the process but only the +losing of hope by time. + +COUNTESS +This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that +'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was +almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so +far, would have made nature immortal, and death +should have play for lack of work. Would, for the +king's sake, he were living! I think it would be +the death of the king's disease. + +LAFEU +How called you the man you speak of, madam? + +COUNTESS +He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was +his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + +LAFEU +He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very +lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he +was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge +could be set up against mortality. + +BERTRAM +What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? + +LAFEU +A fistula, my lord. + +BERTRAM +I heard not of it before. + +LAFEU +I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman +the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + +COUNTESS +His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my +overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that +her education promises; her dispositions she +inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where +an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there +commendations go with pity; they are virtues and +traitors too; in her they are the better for their +simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. + +LAFEU +Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. + +COUNTESS +'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise +in. The remembrance of her father never approaches +her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all +livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; +go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect +a sorrow than have it. + +HELENA +I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + +LAFEU +Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessive grief the enemy to the living. + +COUNTESS +If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess +makes it soon mortal. + +BERTRAM +Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + +LAFEU +How understand we that? + +COUNTESS +Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father +In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue +Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness +Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, +Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy +Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend +Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence, +But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, +That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, +Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; +'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, +Advise him. + +LAFEU +He cannot want the best +That shall attend his love. + +COUNTESS +Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +[To HELENA] The best wishes that can be forged in +your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable +to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. + +LAFEU +Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of +your father. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU + +HELENA +O, were that all! I think not on my father; +And these great tears grace his remembrance more +Than those I shed for him. What was he like? +I have forgot him: my imagination +Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. +I am undone: there is no living, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one +That I should love a bright particular star +And think to wed it, he is so above me: +In his bright radiance and collateral light +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. +The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: +The hind that would be mated by the lion +Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague, +To see him every hour; to sit and draw +His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, +In our heart's table; heart too capable +Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy +Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +Enter PAROLLES + +Aside + +One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; +And yet I know him a notorious liar, +Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; +Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, +That they take place, when virtue's steely bones +Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see +Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + +PAROLLES +Save you, fair queen! + +HELENA +And you, monarch! + +PAROLLES +No. + +HELENA +And no. + +PAROLLES +Are you meditating on virginity? + +HELENA +Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me +ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how +may we barricado it against him? + +PAROLLES +Keep him out. + +HELENA +But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, +in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some +warlike resistance. + +PAROLLES +There is none: man, sitting down before you, will +undermine you and blow you up. + +HELENA +Bless our poor virginity from underminers and +blowers up! Is there no military policy, how +virgins might blow up men? + +PAROLLES +Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be +blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with +the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It +is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to +preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational +increase and there was never virgin got till +virginity was first lost. That you were made of is +metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost +may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is +ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't! + +HELENA +I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. + +PAROLLES +There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the +rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, +is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible +disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: +virginity murders itself and should be buried in +highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate +offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, +much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very +paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. +Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of +self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the +canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose +by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make +itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the +principal itself not much the worse: away with 't! + +HELENA +How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? + +PAROLLES +Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it +likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with +lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't +while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. +Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out +of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just +like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not +now. Your date is better in your pie and your +porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, +your old virginity, is like one of our French +withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, +'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; +marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it? + +HELENA +Not my virginity yet [ ] +There shall your master have a thousand loves, +A mother and a mistress and a friend, +A phoenix, captain and an enemy, +A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, +A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; +His humble ambition, proud humility, +His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, +His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world +Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- +I know not what he shall. God send him well! +The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + +PAROLLES +What one, i' faith? + +HELENA +That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + +PAROLLES +What's pity? + +HELENA +That wishing well had not a body in't, +Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, +Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends, +And show what we alone must think, which never +Return us thanks. + +Enter Page + +Page +Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I +will think of thee at court. + +HELENA +Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. + +PAROLLES +Under Mars, I. + +HELENA +I especially think, under Mars. + +PAROLLES +Why under Mars? + +HELENA +The wars have so kept you under that you must needs +be born under Mars. + +PAROLLES +When he was predominant. + +HELENA +When he was retrograde, I think, rather. + +PAROLLES +Why think you so? + +HELENA +You go so much backward when you fight. + +PAROLLES +That's for advantage. + +HELENA +So is running away, when fear proposes the safety; +but the composition that your valour and fear makes +in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. + +PAROLLES +I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee +acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the +which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize +thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's +counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon +thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and +thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When +thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast +none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, +and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell. + +Exit + +HELENA +Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, +Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky +Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull +Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. +What power is it which mounts my love so high, +That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune nature brings +To join like likes and kiss like native things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose +What hath been cannot be: who ever strove +So show her merit, that did miss her love? +The king's disease--my project may deceive me, +But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and divers Attendants +KING +The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; +Have fought with equal fortune and continue +A braving war. + +First Lord +So 'tis reported, sir. + +KING +Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it +A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, +With caution that the Florentine will move us +For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend +Prejudicates the business and would seem +To have us make denial. + +First Lord +His love and wisdom, +Approved so to your majesty, may plead +For amplest credence. + +KING +He hath arm'd our answer, +And Florence is denied before he comes: +Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see +The Tuscan service, freely have they leave +To stand on either part. + +Second Lord +It well may serve +A nursery to our gentry, who are sick +For breathing and exploit. + +KING +What's he comes here? + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + +First Lord +It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, +Young Bertram. + +KING +Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; +Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, +Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts +Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. + +BERTRAM +My thanks and duty are your majesty's. + +KING +I would I had that corporal soundness now, +As when thy father and myself in friendship +First tried our soldiership! He did look far +Into the service of the time and was +Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; +But on us both did haggish age steal on +And wore us out of act. It much repairs me +To talk of your good father. In his youth +He had the wit which I can well observe +To-day in our young lords; but they may jest +Till their own scorn return to them unnoted +Ere they can hide their levity in honour; +So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness +Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, +His equal had awaked them, and his honour, +Clock to itself, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speak, and at this time +His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him +He used as creatures of another place +And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, +Making them proud of his humility, +In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man +Might be a copy to these younger times; +Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward. + +BERTRAM +His good remembrance, sir, +Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; +So in approof lives not his epitaph +As in your royal speech. + +KING +Would I were with him! He would always say-- +Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words +He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, +To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'-- +This his good melancholy oft began, +On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, +When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he, +'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff +Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses +All but new things disdain; whose judgments are +Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies +Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd; +I after him do after him wish too, +Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, +I quickly were dissolved from my hive, +To give some labourers room. + +Second Lord +You are loved, sir: +They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + +KING +I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, +Since the physician at your father's died? +He was much famed. + +BERTRAM +Some six months since, my lord. + +KING +If he were living, I would try him yet. +Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out +With several applications; nature and sickness +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; +My son's no dearer. + +BERTRAM +Thank your majesty. + +Exeunt. Flourish + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown +COUNTESS +I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? + +Steward +Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I +wish might be found in the calendar of my past +endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make +foul the clearness of our deservings, when of +ourselves we publish them. + +COUNTESS +What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: +the complaints I have heard of you I do not all +believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know +you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability +enough to make such knaveries yours. + +Clown +'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. + +COUNTESS +Well, sir. + +Clown +No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though +many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have +your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel +the woman and I will do as we may. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + +Clown +I do beg your good will in this case. + +COUNTESS +In what case? + +Clown +In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no +heritage: and I think I shall never have the +blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for +they say barnes are blessings. + +COUNTESS +Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + +Clown +My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on +by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. + +COUNTESS +Is this all your worship's reason? + +Clown +Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they +are. + +COUNTESS +May the world know them? + +Clown +I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and +all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry +that I may repent. + +COUNTESS +Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. + +Clown +I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have +friends for my wife's sake. + +COUNTESS +Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + +Clown +You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the +knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. +He that ears my land spares my team and gives me +leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my +drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher +of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh +and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my +flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses +my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to +be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; +for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the +Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in +religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl +horns together, like any deer i' the herd. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? + +Clown +A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next +way: +For I the ballad will repeat, +Which men full true shall find; +Your marriage comes by destiny, +Your cuckoo sings by kind. + +COUNTESS +Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. + +Steward +May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to +you: of her I am to speak. + +COUNTESS +Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; +Helen, I mean. + +Clown +Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, +Why the Grecians sacked Troy? +Fond done, done fond, +Was this King Priam's joy? +With that she sighed as she stood, +With that she sighed as she stood, +And gave this sentence then; +Among nine bad if one be good, +Among nine bad if one be good, +There's yet one good in ten. + +COUNTESS +What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. + +Clown +One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying +o' the song: would God would serve the world so all +the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman, +if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we +might have a good woman born but one every blazing +star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery +well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck +one. + +COUNTESS +You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you. + +Clown +That man should be at woman's command, and yet no +hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it +will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of +humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am +going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +Well, now. + +Steward +I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. + +COUNTESS +Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and +she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully +make title to as much love as she finds: there is +more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid +her than she'll demand. + +Steward +Madam, I was very late more near her than I think +she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate +to herself her own words to her own ears; she +thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any +stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: +Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put +such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no +god, that would not extend his might, only where +qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that +would suffer her poor knight surprised, without +rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. +This she delivered in the most bitter touch of +sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I +held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; +sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns +you something to know it. + +COUNTESS +You have discharged this honestly; keep it to +yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this +before, which hung so tottering in the balance that +I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, +leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you +for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. + +Exit Steward + +Enter HELENA + +Even so it was with me when I was young: +If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn +Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; +Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; +It is the show and seal of nature's truth, +Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: +By our remembrances of days foregone, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. +Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now. + +HELENA +What is your pleasure, madam? + +COUNTESS +You know, Helen, +I am a mother to you. + +HELENA +Mine honourable mistress. + +COUNTESS +Nay, a mother: +Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,' +Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,' +That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; +And put you in the catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen +Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds +A native slip to us from foreign seeds: +You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, +Yet I express to you a mother's care: +God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, +That this distemper'd messenger of wet, +The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? +Why? that you are my daughter? + +HELENA +That I am not. + +COUNTESS +I say, I am your mother. + +HELENA +Pardon, madam; +The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: +I am from humble, he from honour'd name; +No note upon my parents, his all noble: +My master, my dear lord he is; and I +His servant live, and will his vassal die: +He must not be my brother. + +COUNTESS +Nor I your mother? + +HELENA +You are my mother, madam; would you were,-- +So that my lord your son were not my brother,-- +Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for than I do for heaven, +So I were not his sister. Can't no other, +But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + +COUNTESS +Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: +God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother +So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? +My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see +The mystery of your loneliness, and find +Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross +You love my son; invention is ashamed, +Against the proclamation of thy passion, +To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; +But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks +Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes +See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors +That in their kind they speak it: only sin +And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, +That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? +If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; +If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, +As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, +Tell me truly. + +HELENA +Good madam, pardon me! + +COUNTESS +Do you love my son? + +HELENA +Your pardon, noble mistress! + +COUNTESS +Love you my son? + +HELENA +Do not you love him, madam? + +COUNTESS +Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, +Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose +The state of your affection; for your passions +Have to the full appeach'd. + +HELENA +Then, I confess, +Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, +That before you, and next unto high heaven, +I love your son. +My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: +Be not offended; for it hurts not him +That he is loved of me: I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suit; +Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; +Yet never know how that desert should be. +I know I love in vain, strive against hope; +Yet in this captious and intenible sieve +I still pour in the waters of my love +And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, +Religious in mine error, I adore +The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, +But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, +Let not your hate encounter with my love +For loving where you do: but if yourself, +Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, +Did ever in so true a flame of liking +Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian +Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity +To her, whose state is such that cannot choose +But lend and give where she is sure to lose; +That seeks not to find that her search implies, +But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! + +COUNTESS +Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,-- +To go to Paris? + +HELENA +Madam, I had. + +COUNTESS +Wherefore? tell true. + +HELENA +I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. +You know my father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience had collected +For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me +In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them, +As notes whose faculties inclusive were +More than they were in note: amongst the rest, +There is a remedy, approved, set down, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The king is render'd lost. + +COUNTESS +This was your motive +For Paris, was it? speak. + +HELENA +My lord your son made me to think of this; +Else Paris and the medicine and the king +Had from the conversation of my thoughts +Haply been absent then. + +COUNTESS +But think you, Helen, +If you should tender your supposed aid, +He would receive it? he and his physicians +Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, +They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit +A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, +Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off +The danger to itself? + +HELENA +There's something in't, +More than my father's skill, which was the greatest +Of his profession, that his good receipt +Shall for my legacy be sanctified +By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour +But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture +The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure +By such a day and hour. + +COUNTESS +Dost thou believe't? + +HELENA +Ay, madam, knowingly. + +COUNTESS +Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, +Means and attendants and my loving greetings +To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home +And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: +Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, +What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES +KING +Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles +Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: +Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all +The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received, +And is enough for both. + +First Lord +'Tis our hope, sir, +After well enter'd soldiers, to return +And find your grace in health. + +KING +No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart +Will not confess he owes the malady +That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; +Whether I live or die, be you the sons +Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- +Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last monarchy,--see that you come +Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when +The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, +That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell. + +Second Lord +Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! + +KING +Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: +They say, our French lack language to deny, +If they demand: beware of being captives, +Before you serve. + +Both +Our hearts receive your warnings. + +KING +Farewell. Come hither to me. + +Exit, attended + +First Lord +O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + +PAROLLES +'Tis not his fault, the spark. + +Second Lord +O, 'tis brave wars! + +PAROLLES +Most admirable: I have seen those wars. + +BERTRAM +I am commanded here, and kept a coil with +'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.' + +PAROLLES +An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely. + +BERTRAM +I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, +Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, +Till honour be bought up and no sword worn +But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. + +First Lord +There's honour in the theft. + +PAROLLES +Commit it, count. + +Second Lord +I am your accessary; and so, farewell. + +BERTRAM +I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. + +First Lord +Farewell, captain. + +Second Lord +Sweet Monsieur Parolles! + +PAROLLES +Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good +sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall +find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain +Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here +on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword +entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his +reports for me. + +First Lord +We shall, noble captain. + +Exeunt Lords + +PAROLLES +Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do? + +BERTRAM +Stay: the king. + +Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the +noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the +list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to +them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the +time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and +move under the influence of the most received star; +and though the devil lead the measure, such are to +be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. + +BERTRAM +And I will do so. + +PAROLLES +Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES + +Enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + +KING +I'll fee thee to stand up. + +LAFEU +Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon. +I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + +KING +I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, +And ask'd thee mercy for't. + +LAFEU +Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus; +Will you be cured of your infirmity? + +KING +No. + +LAFEU +O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? +Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if +My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine +That's able to breathe life into a stone, +Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary +With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, +Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, +To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, +And write to her a love-line. + +KING +What 'her' is this? + +LAFEU +Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived, +If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, +If seriously I may convey my thoughts +In this my light deliverance, I have spoke +With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, +Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more +Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her +For that is her demand, and know her business? +That done, laugh well at me. + +KING +Now, good Lafeu, +Bring in the admiration; that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wondering how thou took'st it. + +LAFEU +Nay, I'll fit you, +And not be all day neither. + +Exit + +KING +Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + +Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways. + +KING +This haste hath wings indeed. + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways: +This is his majesty; say your mind to him: +A traitor you do look like; but such traitors +His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, +That dare leave two together; fare you well. + +Exit + +KING +Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + +HELENA +Ay, my good lord. +Gerard de Narbon was my father; +In what he did profess, well found. + +KING +I knew him. + +HELENA +The rather will I spare my praises towards him: +Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death +Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. +Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, +And of his old experience the oily darling, +He bade me store up, as a triple eye, +Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; +And hearing your high majesty is touch'd +With that malignant cause wherein the honour +Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, +I come to tender it and my appliance +With all bound humbleness. + +KING +We thank you, maiden; +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned doctors leave us and +The congregated college have concluded +That labouring art can never ransom nature +From her inaidible estate; I say we must not +So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, +To prostitute our past-cure malady +To empirics, or to dissever so +Our great self and our credit, to esteem +A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + +HELENA +My duty then shall pay me for my pains: +I will no more enforce mine office on you. +Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts +A modest one, to bear me back a again. + +KING +I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: +Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give +As one near death to those that wish him live: +But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, +I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + +HELENA +What I can do can do no hurt to try, +Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. +He that of greatest works is finisher +Oft does them by the weakest minister: +So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, +When judges have been babes; great floods have flown +From simple sources, and great seas have dried +When miracles have by the greatest been denied. +Oft expectation fails and most oft there +Where most it promises, and oft it hits +Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. + +KING +I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; +Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: +Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + +HELENA +Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: +It is not so with Him that all things knows +As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; +But most it is presumption in us when +The help of heaven we count the act of men. +Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; +Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an impostor that proclaim +Myself against the level of mine aim; +But know I think and think I know most sure +My art is not past power nor you past cure. + +KING +Are thou so confident? within what space +Hopest thou my cure? + +HELENA +The great'st grace lending grace +Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, +Ere twice in murk and occidental damp +Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, +Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass +Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, +What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, +Health shall live free and sickness freely die. + +KING +Upon thy certainty and confidence +What darest thou venture? + +HELENA +Tax of impudence, +A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame +Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name +Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended +With vilest torture let my life be ended. + +KING +Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerful sound within an organ weak: +And what impossibility would slay +In common sense, sense saves another way. +Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate +Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, +Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all +That happiness and prime can happy call: +Thou this to hazard needs must intimate +Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. +Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, +That ministers thine own death if I die. + +HELENA +If I break time, or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, +And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee; +But, if I help, what do you promise me? + +KING +Make thy demand. + +HELENA +But will you make it even? + +KING +Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. + +HELENA +Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command: +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royal blood of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state; +But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know +Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + +KING +Here is my hand; the premises observed, +Thy will by my performance shall be served: +So make the choice of thy own time, for I, +Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. +More should I question thee, and more I must, +Though more to know could not be more to trust, +From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest +Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. +Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed +As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of +your breeding. + +Clown +I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I +know my business is but to the court. + +COUNTESS +To the court! why, what place make you special, +when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! + +Clown +Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he +may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make +a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, +has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed +such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the +court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all +men. + +COUNTESS +Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all +questions. + +Clown +It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, +the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn +buttock, or any buttock. + +COUNTESS +Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + +Clown +As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, +as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's +rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove +Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his +hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen +to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the +friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + +COUNTESS +Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all +questions? + +Clown +From below your duke to beneath your constable, it +will fit any question. + +COUNTESS +It must be an answer of most monstrous size that +must fit all demands. + +Clown +But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned +should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that +belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall +do you no harm to learn. + +COUNTESS +To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in +question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I +pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + +Clown +O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, +more, a hundred of them. + +COUNTESS +Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. + +COUNTESS +I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. + +COUNTESS +You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! spare not me. + +COUNTESS +Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and +'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very +sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well +to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. + +Clown +I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, +sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. + +COUNTESS +I play the noble housewife with the time +To entertain't so merrily with a fool. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. + +COUNTESS +An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this, +And urge her to a present answer back: +Commend me to my kinsmen and my son: +This is not much. + +Clown +Not much commendation to them. + +COUNTESS +Not much employment for you: you understand me? + +Clown +Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. + +COUNTESS +Haste you again. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE III. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES +LAFEU +They say miracles are past; and we have our +philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, +things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that +we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves +into seeming knowledge, when we should submit +ourselves to an unknown fear. + +PAROLLES +Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath +shot out in our latter times. + +BERTRAM +And so 'tis. + +LAFEU +To be relinquish'd of the artists,-- + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Both of Galen and Paracelsus. + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Of all the learned and authentic fellows,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; so I say. + +LAFEU +That gave him out incurable,-- + +PAROLLES +Why, there 'tis; so say I too. + +LAFEU +Not to be helped,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a-- + +LAFEU +Uncertain life, and sure death. + +PAROLLES +Just, you say well; so would I have said. + +LAFEU +I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. + +PAROLLES +It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you +shall read it in--what do you call there? + +LAFEU +A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. + +PAROLLES +That's it; I would have said the very same. + +LAFEU +Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, +I speak in respect-- + +PAROLLES +Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the +brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most +facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the-- + +LAFEU +Very hand of heaven. + +PAROLLES +Ay, so I say. + +LAFEU +In a most weak-- + +pausing + +and debile minister, great power, great +transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a +further use to be made than alone the recovery of +the king, as to be-- + +pausing + +generally thankful. + +PAROLLES +I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. + +Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and PAROLLES retire + +LAFEU +Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the +better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's +able to lead her a coranto. + +PAROLLES +Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? + +LAFEU +'Fore God, I think so. + +KING +Go, call before me all the lords in court. +Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; +And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense +Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive +The confirmation of my promised gift, +Which but attends thy naming. + +Enter three or four Lords + +Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel +Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, +O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice +I have to use: thy frank election make; +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + +HELENA +To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress +Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one! + +LAFEU +I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture, +My mouth no more were broken than these boys', +And writ as little beard. + +KING +Peruse them well: +Not one of those but had a noble father. + +HELENA +Gentlemen, +Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. + +All +We understand it, and thank heaven for you. + +HELENA +I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest, +That I protest I simply am a maid. +Please it your majesty, I have done already: +The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, +'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused, +Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; +We'll ne'er come there again.' + +KING +Make choice; and, see, +Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + +HELENA +Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, +And to imperial Love, that god most high, +Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit? + +First Lord +And grant it. + +HELENA +Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. + +LAFEU +I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace +for my life. + +HELENA +The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, +Before I speak, too threateningly replies: +Love make your fortunes twenty times above +Her that so wishes and her humble love! + +Second Lord +No better, if you please. + +HELENA +My wish receive, +Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave. + +LAFEU +Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, +I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the +Turk, to make eunuchs of. + +HELENA +Be not afraid that I your hand should take; +I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: +Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed +Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! + +LAFEU +These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: +sure, they are bastards to the English; the French +ne'er got 'em. + +HELENA +You are too young, too happy, and too good, +To make yourself a son out of my blood. + +Fourth Lord +Fair one, I think not so. + +LAFEU +There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk +wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth +of fourteen; I have known thee already. + +HELENA +[To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give +Me and my service, ever whilst I live, +Into your guiding power. This is the man. + +KING +Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. + +BERTRAM +My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, +In such a business give me leave to use +The help of mine own eyes. + +KING +Know'st thou not, Bertram, +What she has done for me? + +BERTRAM +Yes, my good lord; +But never hope to know why I should marry her. + +KING +Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + +BERTRAM +But follows it, my lord, to bring me down +Must answer for your raising? I know her well: +She had her breeding at my father's charge. +A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain +Rather corrupt me ever! + +KING +'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which +I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, +Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, +Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off +In differences so mighty. If she be +All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, +A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest +Of virtue for the name: but do not so: +From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by the doer's deed: +Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, +It is a dropsied honour. Good alone +Is good without a name. Vileness is so: +The property by what it is should go, +Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; +In these to nature she's immediate heir, +And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, +Which challenges itself as honour's born +And is not like the sire: honours thrive, +When rather from our acts we them derive +Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave +Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave +A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb +Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb +Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? +If thou canst like this creature as a maid, +I can create the rest: virtue and she +Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. + +BERTRAM +I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. + +KING +Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. + +HELENA +That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: +Let the rest go. + +KING +My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, +I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, +Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; +That dost in vile misprision shackle up +My love and her desert; that canst not dream, +We, poising us in her defective scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, +It is in us to plant thine honour where +We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt: +Obey our will, which travails in thy good: +Believe not thy disdain, but presently +Do thine own fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy duty owes and our power claims; +Or I will throw thee from my care for ever +Into the staggers and the careless lapse +Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate +Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice, +Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. + +BERTRAM +Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit +My fancy to your eyes: when I consider +What great creation and what dole of honour +Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late +Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now +The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, +Is as 'twere born so. + +KING +Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise +A counterpoise, if not to thy estate +A balance more replete. + +BERTRAM +I take her hand. + +KING +Good fortune and the favour of the king +Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony +Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, +And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast +Shall more attend upon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her, +Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. + +Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES + +LAFEU +[Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. + +PAROLLES +Your pleasure, sir? + +LAFEU +Your lord and master did well to make his +recantation. + +PAROLLES +Recantation! My lord! my master! + +LAFEU +Ay; is it not a language I speak? + +PAROLLES +A most harsh one, and not to be understood without +bloody succeeding. My master! + +LAFEU +Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? + +PAROLLES +To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + +LAFEU +To what is count's man: count's master is of +another style. + +PAROLLES +You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. + +LAFEU +I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which +title age cannot bring thee. + +PAROLLES +What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + +LAFEU +I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty +wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy +travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the +bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from +believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I +have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care +not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and +that thou't scarce worth. + +PAROLLES +Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,-- + +LAFEU +Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou +hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee +for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee +well: thy casement I need not open, for I look +through thee. Give me thy hand. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. + +LAFEU +Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. + +PAROLLES +I have not, my lord, deserved it. + +LAFEU +Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not +bate thee a scruple. + +PAROLLES +Well, I shall be wiser. + +LAFEU +Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at +a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound +in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is +to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold +my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, +that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. + +LAFEU +I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor +doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by +thee, in what motion age will give me leave. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off +me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must +be patient; there is no fettering of authority. +I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with +any convenience, an he were double and double a +lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I +would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + +Re-enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news +for you: you have a new mistress. + +PAROLLES +I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make +some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good +lord: whom I serve above is my master. + +LAFEU +Who? God? + +PAROLLES +Ay, sir. + +LAFEU +The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou +garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of +sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set +thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine +honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat +thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and +every man should beat thee: I think thou wast +created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + +PAROLLES +This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. + +LAFEU +Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a +kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and +no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords +and honourable personages than the commission of your +birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not +worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; +let it be concealed awhile. + +Re-enter BERTRAM + +BERTRAM +Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! + +PAROLLES +What's the matter, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, +I will not bed her. + +PAROLLES +What, what, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +O my Parolles, they have married me! +I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. + +PAROLLES +France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits +The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! + +BERTRAM +There's letters from my mother: what the import is, +I know not yet. + +PAROLLES +Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! +He wears his honour in a box unseen, +That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, +Spending his manly marrow in her arms, +Which should sustain the bound and high curvet +Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions +France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades; +Therefore, to the war! + +BERTRAM +It shall be so: I'll send her to my house, +Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, +And wherefore I am fled; write to the king +That which I durst not speak; his present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, +Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife +To the dark house and the detested wife. + +PAROLLES +Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? + +BERTRAM +Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. +I'll send her straight away: to-morrow +I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + +PAROLLES +Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: +A young man married is a man that's marr'd: +Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: +The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter HELENA and Clown +HELENA +My mother greets me kindly; is she well? + +Clown +She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's +very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be +given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the +world; but yet she is not well. + +HELENA +If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's +not very well? + +Clown +Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + +HELENA +What two things? + +Clown +One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her +quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence +God send her quickly! + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Bless you, my fortunate lady! + +HELENA +I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own +good fortunes. + +PAROLLES +You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them +on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady? + +Clown +So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, +I would she did as you say. + +PAROLLES +Why, I say nothing. + +Clown +Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's +tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say +nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have +nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which +is within a very little of nothing. + +PAROLLES +Away! thou'rt a knave. + +Clown +You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a +knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had +been truth, sir. + +PAROLLES +Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. + +Clown +Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you +taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; +and much fool may you find in you, even to the +world's pleasure and the increase of laughter. + +PAROLLES +A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. +Madam, my lord will go away to-night; +A very serious business calls on him. +The great prerogative and rite of love, +Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; +But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; +Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, +Which they distil now in the curbed time, +To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy +And pleasure drown the brim. + +HELENA +What's his will else? + +PAROLLES +That you will take your instant leave o' the king +And make this haste as your own good proceeding, +Strengthen'd with what apology you think +May make it probable need. + +HELENA +What more commands he? + +PAROLLES +That, having this obtain'd, you presently +Attend his further pleasure. + +HELENA +In every thing I wait upon his will. + +PAROLLES +I shall report it so. + +HELENA +I pray you. + +Exit PAROLLES + +Come, sirrah. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM +LAFEU +But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. + +BERTRAM +Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + +LAFEU +You have it from his own deliverance. + +BERTRAM +And by other warranted testimony. + +LAFEU +Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting. + +BERTRAM +I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in +knowledge and accordingly valiant. + +LAFEU +I have then sinned against his experience and +transgressed against his valour; and my state that +way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my +heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make +us friends; I will pursue the amity. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir. + +LAFEU +Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + +PAROLLES +Sir? + +LAFEU +O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good +workman, a very good tailor. + +BERTRAM +[Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the king? + +PAROLLES +She is. + +BERTRAM +Will she away to-night? + +PAROLLES +As you'll have her. + +BERTRAM +I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, +Given order for our horses; and to-night, +When I should take possession of the bride, +End ere I do begin. + +LAFEU +A good traveller is something at the latter end of a +dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a +known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should +be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain. + +BERTRAM +Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? + +PAROLLES +I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's +displeasure. + +LAFEU +You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs +and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and +out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer +question for your residence. + +BERTRAM +It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + +LAFEU +And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's +prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this +of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the +soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in +matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them +tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur: +I have spoken better of you than you have or will to +deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +An idle lord. I swear. + +BERTRAM +I think so. + +PAROLLES +Why, do you not know him? + +BERTRAM +Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. + +Enter HELENA + +HELENA +I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, +Spoke with the king and have procured his leave +For present parting; only he desires +Some private speech with you. + +BERTRAM +I shall obey his will. +You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, +Which holds not colour with the time, nor does +The ministration and required office +On my particular. Prepared I was not +For such a business; therefore am I found +So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you +That presently you take our way for home; +And rather muse than ask why I entreat you, +For my respects are better than they seem +And my appointments have in them a need +Greater than shows itself at the first view +To you that know them not. This to my mother: + +Giving a letter + +'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so +I leave you to your wisdom. + +HELENA +Sir, I can nothing say, +But that I am your most obedient servant. + +BERTRAM +Come, come, no more of that. + +HELENA +And ever shall +With true observance seek to eke out that +Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd +To equal my great fortune. + +BERTRAM +Let that go: +My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. + +HELENA +Pray, sir, your pardon. + +BERTRAM +Well, what would you say? + +HELENA +I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; +But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal +What law does vouch mine own. + +BERTRAM +What would you have? + +HELENA +Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed. +I would not tell you what I would, my lord: +Faith yes; +Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. + +BERTRAM +I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. + +HELENA +I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. + +BERTRAM +Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. + +Exit HELENA + +Go thou toward home; where I will never come +Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. +Away, and for our flight. + +PAROLLES +Bravely, coragio! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Florence. The DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended; the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. +DUKE +So that from point to point now have you heard +The fundamental reasons of this war, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after. + +First Lord +Holy seems the quarrel +Upon your grace's part; black and fearful +On the opposer. + +DUKE +Therefore we marvel much our cousin France +Would in so just a business shut his bosom +Against our borrowing prayers. + +Second Lord +Good my lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yield, +But like a common and an outward man, +That the great figure of a council frames +By self-unable motion: therefore dare not +Say what I think of it, since I have found +Myself in my incertain grounds to fail +As often as I guess'd. + +DUKE +Be it his pleasure. + +First Lord +But I am sure the younger of our nature, +That surfeit on their ease, will day by day +Come here for physic. + +DUKE +Welcome shall they be; +And all the honours that can fly from us +Shall on them settle. You know your places well; +When better fall, for your avails they fell: +To-morrow to the field. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +It hath happened all as I would have had it, save +that he comes not along with her. + +Clown +By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very +melancholy man. + +COUNTESS +By what observance, I pray you? + +Clown +Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the +ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his +teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of +melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + +COUNTESS +Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. + +Opening a letter + +Clown +I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our +old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing +like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: +the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to +love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + +COUNTESS +What have we here? + +Clown +E'en that you have there. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +[Reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath +recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded +her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' +eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it +before the report come. If there be breadth enough +in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty +to you. Your unfortunate son, +BERTRAM. +This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. +To fly the favours of so good a king; +To pluck his indignation on thy head +By the misprising of a maid too virtuous +For the contempt of empire. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two +soldiers and my young lady! + +COUNTESS +What is the matter? + +Clown +Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some +comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I +thought he would. + +COUNTESS +Why should he be killed? + +Clown +So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: +the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of +men, though it be the getting of children. Here +they come will tell you more: for my part, I only +hear your son was run away. + +Exit + +Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen + +First Gentleman +Save you, good madam. + +HELENA +Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. + +Second Gentleman +Do not say so. + +COUNTESS +Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen, +I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, +That the first face of neither, on the start, +Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? + +Second Gentleman +Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: +We met him thitherward; for thence we came, +And, after some dispatch in hand at court, +Thither we bend again. + +HELENA +Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. + +Reads + +When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which +never shall come off, and show me a child begotten +of thy body that I am father to, then call me +husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' +This is a dreadful sentence. + +COUNTESS +Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam; +And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. + +COUNTESS +I prithee, lady, have a better cheer; +If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, +Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? + +Second Gentleman +Ay, madam. + +COUNTESS +And to be a soldier? + +Second Gentleman +Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't, +The duke will lay upon him all the honour +That good convenience claims. + +COUNTESS +Return you thither? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + +HELENA +[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. +'Tis bitter. + +COUNTESS +Find you that there? + +HELENA +Ay, madam. + +First Gentleman +'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his +heart was not consenting to. + +COUNTESS +Nothing in France, until he have no wife! +There's nothing here that is too good for him +But only she; and she deserves a lord +That twenty such rude boys might tend upon +And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + +First Gentleman +A servant only, and a gentleman +Which I have sometime known. + +COUNTESS +Parolles, was it not? + +First Gentleman +Ay, my good lady, he. + +COUNTESS +A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. +My son corrupts a well-derived nature +With his inducement. + +First Gentleman +Indeed, good lady, +The fellow has a deal of that too much, +Which holds him much to have. + +COUNTESS +You're welcome, gentlemen. +I will entreat you, when you see my son, +To tell him that his sword can never win +The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you +Written to bear along. + +Second Gentleman +We serve you, madam, +In that and all your worthiest affairs. + +COUNTESS +Not so, but as we change our courtesies. +Will you draw near! + +Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen + +HELENA +'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.' +Nothing in France, until he has no wife! +Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; +Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I +That chase thee from thy country and expose +Those tender limbs of thine to the event +Of the none-sparing war? and is it I +That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou +Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark +Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, +That ride upon the violent speed of fire, +Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, +That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. +Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; +Whoever charges on his forward breast, +I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; +And, though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected: better 'twere +I met the ravin lion when he roar'd +With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, +Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, +As oft it loses all: I will be gone; +My being here it is that holds thee hence: +Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although +The air of paradise did fan the house +And angels officed all: I will be gone, +That pitiful rumour may report my flight, +To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! +For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets +DUKE +The general of our horse thou art; and we, +Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence +Upon thy promising fortune. + +BERTRAM +Sir, it is +A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet +We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake +To the extreme edge of hazard. + +DUKE +Then go thou forth; +And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, +As thy auspicious mistress! + +BERTRAM +This very day, +Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove +A lover of thy drum, hater of love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Steward +COUNTESS +Alas! and would you take the letter of her? +Might you not know she would do as she has done, +By sending me a letter? Read it again. + +Steward +[Reads] +I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: +Ambitious love hath so in me offended, +That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, +With sainted vow my faults to have amended. +Write, write, that from the bloody course of war +My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: +Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far +His name with zealous fervor sanctify: +His taken labours bid him me forgive; +I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth +From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, +Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: +He is too good and fair for death and me: +Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. + +COUNTESS +Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! +Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, +As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, +I could have well diverted her intents, +Which thus she hath prevented. + +Steward +Pardon me, madam: +If I had given you this at over-night, +She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, +Pursuit would be but vain. + +COUNTESS +What angel shall +Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, +Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear +And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath +Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, +To this unworthy husband of his wife; +Let every word weigh heavy of her worth +That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. +Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. +Dispatch the most convenient messenger: +When haply he shall hear that she is gone, +He will return; and hope I may that she, +Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, +Led hither by pure love: which of them both +Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense +To make distinction: provide this messenger: +My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; +Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off. + +Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other Citizens +Widow +Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we +shall lose all the sight. + +DIANA +They say the French count has done most honourable service. + +Widow +It is reported that he has taken their greatest +commander; and that with his own hand he slew the +duke's brother. + +Tucket + +We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary +way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. + +MARIANA +Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with +the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this +French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and +no legacy is so rich as honesty. + +Widow +I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited +by a gentleman his companion. + +MARIANA +I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a +filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the +young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, +enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of +lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid +hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, +example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of +maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, +but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten +them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but +I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, +though there were no further danger known but the +modesty which is so lost. + +DIANA +You shall not need to fear me. + +Widow +I hope so. + +Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim + +Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at +my house; thither they send one another: I'll +question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? + +HELENA +To Saint Jaques le Grand. +Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + +Widow +At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + +HELENA +Is this the way? + +Widow +Ay, marry, is't. + +A march afar + +Hark you! they come this way. +If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, +But till the troops come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; +The rather, for I think I know your hostess +As ample as myself. + +HELENA +Is it yourself? + +Widow +If you shall please so, pilgrim. + +HELENA +I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + +Widow +You came, I think, from France? + +HELENA +I did so. + +Widow +Here you shall see a countryman of yours +That has done worthy service. + +HELENA +His name, I pray you. + +DIANA +The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? + +HELENA +But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: +His face I know not. + +DIANA +Whatsome'er he is, +He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, +As 'tis reported, for the king had married him +Against his liking: think you it is so? + +HELENA +Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. + +DIANA +There is a gentleman that serves the count +Reports but coarsely of her. + +HELENA +What's his name? + +DIANA +Monsieur Parolles. + +HELENA +O, I believe with him, +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great count himself, she is too mean +To have her name repeated: all her deserving +Is a reserved honesty, and that +I have not heard examined. + +DIANA +Alas, poor lady! +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting lord. + +Widow +I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, +Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her +A shrewd turn, if she pleased. + +HELENA +How do you mean? +May be the amorous count solicits her +In the unlawful purpose. + +Widow +He does indeed; +And brokes with all that can in such a suit +Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: +But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard +In honestest defence. + +MARIANA +The gods forbid else! + +Widow +So, now they come: + +Drum and Colours + +Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army + +That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; +That, Escalus. + +HELENA +Which is the Frenchman? + +DIANA +He; +That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. +I would he loved his wife: if he were honester +He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? + +HELENA +I like him well. + +DIANA +'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave +That leads him to these places: were I his lady, +I would Poison that vile rascal. + +HELENA +Which is he? + +DIANA +That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? + +HELENA +Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. + +PAROLLES +Lose our drum! well. + +MARIANA +He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. + +Widow +Marry, hang you! + +MARIANA +And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! + +Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army + +Widow +The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you +Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents +There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, +Already at my house. + +HELENA +I humbly thank you: +Please it this matron and this gentle maid +To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this virgin +Worthy the note. + +BOTH +We'll take your offer kindly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. + +Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords +Second Lord +Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his +way. + +First Lord +If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no +more in your respect. + +Second Lord +On my life, my lord, a bubble. + +BERTRAM +Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + +Second Lord +Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, +without any malice, but to speak of him as my +kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and +endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner +of no one good quality worthy your lordship's +entertainment. + +First Lord +It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in +his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some +great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. + +BERTRAM +I would I knew in what particular action to try him. + +First Lord +None better than to let him fetch off his drum, +which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. + +Second Lord +I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly +surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he +knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink +him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he +is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when +we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship +present at his examination: if he do not, for the +promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of +base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the +intelligence in his power against you, and that with +the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never +trust my judgment in any thing. + +First Lord +O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; +he says he has a stratagem for't: when your +lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to +what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be +melted, if you give him not John Drum's +entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. +Here he comes. + +Enter PAROLLES + +Second Lord +[Aside to BERTRAM] O, for the love of laughter, +hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch +off his drum in any hand. + +BERTRAM +How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your +disposition. + +First Lord +A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. + +PAROLLES +'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost! +There was excellent command,--to charge in with our +horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! + +First Lord +That was not to be blamed in the command of the +service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar +himself could not have prevented, if he had been +there to command. + +BERTRAM +Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some +dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is +not to be recovered. + +PAROLLES +It might have been recovered. + +BERTRAM +It might; but it is not now. + +PAROLLES +It is to be recovered: but that the merit of +service is seldom attributed to the true and exact +performer, I would have that drum or another, or +'hic jacet.' + +BERTRAM +Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you +think your mystery in stratagem can bring this +instrument of honour again into his native quarter, +be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will +grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you +speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. +and extend to you what further becomes his +greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your +worthiness. + +PAROLLES +By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + +BERTRAM +But you must not now slumber in it. + +PAROLLES +I'll about it this evening: and I will presently +pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my +certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; +and by midnight look to hear further from me. + +BERTRAM +May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? + +PAROLLES +I know not what the success will be, my lord; but +the attempt I vow. + +BERTRAM +I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of +thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + +PAROLLES +I love not many words. + +Exit + +Second Lord +No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a +strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems +to undertake this business, which he knows is not to +be done; damns himself to do and dares better be +damned than to do't? + +First Lord +You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it +is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and +for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but +when you find him out, you have him ever after. + +BERTRAM +Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of +this that so seriously he does address himself unto? + +Second Lord +None in the world; but return with an invention and +clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we +have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall +to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. + +First Lord +We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case +him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: +when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a +sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this +very night. + +Second Lord +I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. + +BERTRAM +Your brother he shall go along with me. + +Second Lord +As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +Now will I lead you to the house, and show you +The lass I spoke of. + +First Lord +But you say she's honest. + +BERTRAM +That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once +And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, +By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, +Tokens and letters which she did re-send; +And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: +Will you go see her? + +First Lord +With all my heart, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA and Widow +HELENA +If you misdoubt me that I am not she, +I know not how I shall assure you further, +But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + +Widow +Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses; +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act. + +HELENA +Nor would I wish you. +First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, +And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken +Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, +By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, +Err in bestowing it. + +Widow +I should believe you: +For you have show'd me that which well approves +You're great in fortune. + +HELENA +Take this purse of gold, +And let me buy your friendly help thus far, +Which I will over-pay and pay again +When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, +Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, +Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, +As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. +Now his important blood will nought deny +That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From son to son, some four or five descents +Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds +In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, +To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, +Howe'er repented after. + +Widow +Now I see +The bottom of your purpose. + +HELENA +You see it lawful, then: it is no more, +But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, +Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; +In fine, delivers me to fill the time, +Herself most chastely absent: after this, +To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns +To what is passed already. + +Widow +I have yielded: +Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, +That time and place with this deceit so lawful +May prove coherent. Every night he comes +With musics of all sorts and songs composed +To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us +To chide him from our eaves; for he persists +As if his life lay on't. + +HELENA +Why then to-night +Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed +And lawful meaning in a lawful act, +Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: +But let's about it. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. + +Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other Soldiers in ambush +Second Lord +He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. +When you sally upon him, speak what terrible +language you will: though you understand it not +yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to +understand him, unless some one among us whom we +must produce for an interpreter. + +First Soldier +Good captain, let me be the interpreter. + +Second Lord +Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? + +First Soldier +No, sir, I warrant you. + +Second Lord +But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? + +First Soldier +E'en such as you speak to me. + +Second Lord +He must think us some band of strangers i' the +adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of +all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every +one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we +speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to +know straight our purpose: choughs' language, +gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, +interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, +ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, +and then to return and swear the lies he forges. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be +time enough to go home. What shall I say I have +done? It must be a very plausive invention that +carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces +have of late knocked too often at my door. I find +my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the +fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not +daring the reports of my tongue. + +Second Lord +This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue +was guilty of. + +PAROLLES +What the devil should move me to undertake the +recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the +impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I +must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in +exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they +will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great +ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the +instance? Tongue, I must put you into a +butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of +Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. + +Second Lord +Is it possible he should know what he is, and be +that he is? + +PAROLLES +I would the cutting of my garments would serve the +turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. + +Second Lord +We cannot afford you so. + +PAROLLES +Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in +stratagem. + +Second Lord +'Twould not do. + +PAROLLES +Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. + +Second Lord +Hardly serve. + +PAROLLES +Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel. + +Second Lord +How deep? + +PAROLLES +Thirty fathom. + +Second Lord +Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. + +PAROLLES +I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear +I recovered it. + +Second Lord +You shall hear one anon. + +PAROLLES +A drum now of the enemy's,-- + +Alarum within + +Second Lord +Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. + +All +Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. + +PAROLLES +O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes. + +They seize and blindfold him + +First Soldier +Boskos thromuldo boskos. + +PAROLLES +I know you are the Muskos' regiment: +And I shall lose my life for want of language; +If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll +Discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + +First Soldier +Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak +thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy +faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. + +PAROLLES +O! + +First Soldier +O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche. + +Second Lord +Oscorbidulchos volivorco. + +First Soldier +The general is content to spare thee yet; +And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on +To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform +Something to save thy life. + +PAROLLES +O, let me live! +And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, +Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that +Which you will wonder at. + +First Soldier +But wilt thou faithfully? + +PAROLLES +If I do not, damn me. + +First Soldier +Acordo linta. +Come on; thou art granted space. + +Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within + +Second Lord +Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother, +We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled +Till we do hear from them. + +Second Soldier +Captain, I will. + +Second Lord +A' will betray us all unto ourselves: +Inform on that. + +Second Soldier +So I will, sir. + +Second Lord +Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter BERTRAM and DIANA +BERTRAM +They told me that your name was Fontibell. + +DIANA +No, my good lord, Diana. + +BERTRAM +Titled goddess; +And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, +In your fine frame hath love no quality? +If quick fire of youth light not your mind, +You are no maiden, but a monument: +When you are dead, you should be such a one +As you are now, for you are cold and stem; +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet self was got. + +DIANA +She then was honest. + +BERTRAM +So should you be. + +DIANA +No: +My mother did but duty; such, my lord, +As you owe to your wife. + +BERTRAM +No more o' that; +I prithee, do not strive against my vows: +I was compell'd to her; but I love thee +By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever +Do thee all rights of service. + +DIANA +Ay, so you serve us +Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, +You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves +And mock us with our bareness. + +BERTRAM +How have I sworn! + +DIANA +'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, +But the plain single vow that is vow'd true. +What is not holy, that we swear not by, +But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me, +If I should swear by God's great attributes, +I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, +When I did love you ill? This has no holding, +To swear by him whom I protest to love, +That I will work against him: therefore your oaths +Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd, +At least in my opinion. + +BERTRAM +Change it, change it; +Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; +And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts +That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, +But give thyself unto my sick desires, +Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever +My love as it begins shall so persever. + +DIANA +I see that men make ropes in such a scarre +That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + +BERTRAM +I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power +To give it from me. + +DIANA +Will you not, my lord? + +BERTRAM +It is an honour 'longing to our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose. + +DIANA +Mine honour's such a ring: +My chastity's the jewel of our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom +Brings in the champion Honour on my part, +Against your vain assault. + +BERTRAM +Here, take my ring: +My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, +And I'll be bid by thee. + +DIANA +When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: +I'll order take my mother shall not hear. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, +Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: +My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them +When back again this ring shall be deliver'd: +And on your finger in the night I'll put +Another ring, that what in time proceeds +May token to the future our past deeds. +Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won +A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + +BERTRAM +A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. + +Exit + +DIANA +For which live long to thank both heaven and me! +You may so in the end. +My mother told me just how he would woo, +As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men +Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me +When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, +Marry that will, I live and die a maid: +Only in this disguise I think't no sin +To cozen him that would unjustly win. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Florentine camp. + +Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers +First Lord +You have not given him his mother's letter? + +Second Lord +I have delivered it an hour since: there is +something in't that stings his nature; for on the +reading it he changed almost into another man. + +First Lord +He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking +off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + +Second Lord +Especially he hath incurred the everlasting +displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his +bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a +thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + +First Lord +When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the +grave of it. + +Second Lord +He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in +Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he +fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath +given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself +made in the unchaste composition. + +First Lord +Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, +what things are we! + +Second Lord +Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course +of all treasons, we still see them reveal +themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, +so he that in this action contrives against his own +nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. + +First Lord +Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of +our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his +company to-night? + +Second Lord +Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. + +First Lord +That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see +his company anatomized, that he might take a measure +of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had +set this counterfeit. + +Second Lord +We will not meddle with him till he come; for his +presence must be the whip of the other. + +First Lord +In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? + +Second Lord +I hear there is an overture of peace. + +First Lord +Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + +Second Lord +What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel +higher, or return again into France? + +First Lord +I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether +of his council. + +Second Lord +Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal +of his act. + +First Lord +Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his +house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques +le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere +sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the +tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her +grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and +now she sings in heaven. + +Second Lord +How is this justified? + +First Lord +The stronger part of it by her own letters, which +makes her story true, even to the point of her +death: her death itself, which could not be her +office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by +the rector of the place. + +Second Lord +Hath the count all this intelligence? + +First Lord +Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from +point, so to the full arming of the verity. + +Second Lord +I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. + +First Lord +How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! + +Second Lord +And how mightily some other times we drown our gain +in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath +here acquired for him shall at home be encountered +with a shame as ample. + +First Lord +The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and +ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our +faults whipped them not; and our crimes would +despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. + +Enter a Messenger + +How now! where's your master? + +Servant +He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath +taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next +morning for France. The duke hath offered him +letters of commendations to the king. + +Second Lord +They shall be no more than needful there, if they +were more than they can commend. + +First Lord +They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. +Here's his lordship now. + +Enter BERTRAM + +How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? + +BERTRAM +I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a +month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: +I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his +nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my +lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; +and between these main parcels of dispatch effected +many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but +that I have not ended yet. + +Second Lord +If the business be of any difficulty, and this +morning your departure hence, it requires haste of +your lordship. + +BERTRAM +I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to +hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this +dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, +bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived +me, like a double-meaning prophesier. + +Second Lord +Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, +poor gallant knave. + +BERTRAM +No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping +his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? + +Second Lord +I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry +him. But to answer you as you would be understood; +he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he +hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes +to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to +this very instant disaster of his setting i' the +stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? + +BERTRAM +Nothing of me, has a'? + +Second Lord +His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his +face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you +are, you must have the patience to hear it. + +Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier + +BERTRAM +A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of +me: hush, hush! + +First Lord +Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa + +First Soldier +He calls for the tortures: what will you say +without 'em? + +PAROLLES +I will confess what I know without constraint: if +ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. + +First Soldier +Bosko chimurcho. + +First Lord +Boblibindo chicurmurco. + +First Soldier +You are a merciful general. Our general bids you +answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. + +PAROLLES +And truly, as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'First demand of him how many horse the +duke is strong.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand; but very weak and +unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and +the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation +and credit and as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +Shall I set down your answer so? + +PAROLLES +Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. + +BERTRAM +All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! + +First Lord +You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur +Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own +phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the +knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of +his dagger. + +Second Lord +I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword +clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him +by wearing his apparel neatly. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say +true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth. + +First Lord +He's very near the truth in this. + +BERTRAM +But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he +delivers it. + +PAROLLES +Poor rogues, I pray you, say. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the +rogues are marvellous poor. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Demand of him, of what strength they are +a-foot.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present +hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a +hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so +many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, +and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own +company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and +fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and +sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand +poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off +their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. + +BERTRAM +What shall be done to him? + +First Lord +Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my +condition, and what credit I have with the duke. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +Reads + +'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain +be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is +with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and +expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not +possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to +corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what +do you know of it? + +PAROLLES +I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of +the inter'gatories: demand them singly. + +First Soldier +Do you know this Captain Dumain? + +PAROLLES +I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, +from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's +fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not +say him nay. + +BERTRAM +Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know +his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. + +First Soldier +Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp? + +PAROLLES +Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy. + +First Lord +Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your +lordship anon. + +First Soldier +What is his reputation with the duke? + +PAROLLES +The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer +of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him +out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. + +First Soldier +Marry, we'll search. + +PAROLLES +In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, +or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters +in my tent. + +First Soldier +Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you? + +PAROLLES +I do not know if it be it or no. + +BERTRAM +Our interpreter does it well. + +First Lord +Excellently. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'-- + +PAROLLES +That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an +advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one +Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count +Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very +ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. + +First Soldier +Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. + +PAROLLES +My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the +behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be +a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to +virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. + +BERTRAM +Damnable both-sides rogue! + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it; +After he scores, he never pays the score: +Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; +He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; +And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, +Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: +For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, +Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. +Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, +PAROLLES.' + +BERTRAM +He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme +in's forehead. + +Second Lord +This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold +linguist and the armipotent soldier. + +BERTRAM +I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now +he's a cat to me. + +First Soldier +I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be +fain to hang you. + +PAROLLES +My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to +die; but that, my offences being many, I would +repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, +sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live. + +First Soldier +We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; +therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you +have answered to his reputation with the duke and to +his valour: what is his honesty? + +PAROLLES +He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for +rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he +professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he +is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with +such volubility, that you would think truth were a +fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will +be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little +harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they +know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but +little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has +every thing that an honest man should not have; what +an honest man should have, he has nothing. + +First Lord +I begin to love him for this. + +BERTRAM +For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon +him for me, he's more and more a cat. + +First Soldier +What say you to his expertness in war? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English +tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of +his soldiership I know not; except, in that country +he had the honour to be the officer at a place there +called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of +files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of +this I am not certain. + +First Lord +He hath out-villained villany so far, that the +rarity redeems him. + +BERTRAM +A pox on him, he's a cat still. + +First Soldier +His qualities being at this poor price, I need not +to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. + +PAROLLES +Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple +of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the +entail from all remainders, and a perpetual +succession for it perpetually. + +First Soldier +What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain? + +Second Lord +Why does be ask him of me? + +First Soldier +What's he? + +PAROLLES +E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so +great as the first in goodness, but greater a great +deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward, +yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: +in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming +on he has the cramp. + +First Soldier +If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray +the Florentine? + +PAROLLES +Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon. + +First Soldier +I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. + +PAROLLES +[Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all +drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to +beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy +the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who +would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? + +First Soldier +There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the +general says, you that have so traitorously +discovered the secrets of your army and made such +pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can +serve the world for no honest use; therefore you +must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. + +PAROLLES +O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! + +First Lord +That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. + +Unblinding him + +So, look about you: know you any here? + +BERTRAM +Good morrow, noble captain. + +Second Lord +God bless you, Captain Parolles. + +First Lord +God save you, noble captain. + +Second Lord +Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? +I am for France. + +First Lord +Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet +you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? +an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you: +but fare you well. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords + +First Soldier +You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that +has a knot on't yet + +PAROLLES +Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + +First Soldier +If you could find out a country where but women were +that had received so much shame, you might begin an +impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France +too: we shall speak of you there. + +Exit with Soldiers + +PAROLLES +Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, +'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; +But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft +As captain shall: simply the thing I am +Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, +Let him fear this, for it will come to pass +that every braggart shall be found an ass. +Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live +Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! +There's place and means for every man alive. +I'll after them. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA +HELENA +That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: +Time was, I did him a desired office, +Dear almost as his life; which gratitude +Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, +And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd +His grace is at Marseilles; to which place +We have convenient convoy. You must know +I am supposed dead: the army breaking, +My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, +And by the leave of my good lord the king, +We'll be before our welcome. + +Widow +Gentle madam, +You never had a servant to whose trust +Your business was more welcome. + +HELENA +Nor you, mistress, +Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour +To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven +Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motive +And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! +That can such sweet use make of what they hate, +When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play +With what it loathes for that which is away. +But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, +Under my poor instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalf. + +DIANA +Let death and honesty +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Upon your will to suffer. + +HELENA +Yet, I pray you: +But with the word the time will bring on summer, +When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, +And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; +Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us: +All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; +Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown +LAFEU +No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta +fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have +made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in +his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at +this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced +by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + +COUNTESS +I would I had not known him; it was the death of the +most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had +praise for creating. If she had partaken of my +flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I +could not have owed her a more rooted love. + +LAFEU +'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a +thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the +salad, or rather, the herb of grace. + +LAFEU +They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. + +Clown +I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much +skill in grass. + +LAFEU +Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? + +Clown +A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. + +LAFEU +Your distinction? + +Clown +I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. + +LAFEU +So you were a knave at his service, indeed. + +Clown +And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. + +LAFEU +I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. + +Clown +At your service. + +LAFEU +No, no, no. + +Clown +Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as +great a prince as you are. + +LAFEU +Who's that? a Frenchman? + +Clown +Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy +is more hotter in France than there. + +LAFEU +What prince is that? + +Clown +The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of +darkness; alias, the devil. + +LAFEU +Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this +to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; +serve him still. + +Clown +I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a +great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a +good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the +world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for +the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be +too little for pomp to enter: some that humble +themselves may; but the many will be too chill and +tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that +leads to the broad gate and the great fire. + +LAFEU +Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I +tell thee so before, because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well +looked to, without any tricks. + +Clown +If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be +jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. + +Exit + +LAFEU +A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + +COUNTESS +So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much +sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, +which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, +indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. + +LAFEU +I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to +tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and +that my lord your son was upon his return home, I +moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of +my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, +his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did +first propose: his highness hath promised me to do +it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath +conceived against your son, there is no fitter +matter. How does your ladyship like it? + +COUNTESS +With very much content, my lord; and I wish it +happily effected. + +LAFEU +His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able +body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here +to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such +intelligence hath seldom failed. + +COUNTESS +It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I +die. I have letters that my son will be here +to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain +with me till they meet together. + +LAFEU +Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might +safely be admitted. + +COUNTESS +You need but plead your honourable privilege. + +LAFEU +Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I +thank my God it holds yet. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of +velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't +or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of +velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a +half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + +LAFEU +A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery +of honour; so belike is that. + +Clown +But it is your carbonadoed face. + +LAFEU +Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk +with the young noble soldier. + +Clown +Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine +hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head +and nod at every man. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Marseilles. A street. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants +HELENA +But this exceeding posting day and night +Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: +But since you have made the days and nights as one, +To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, +Be bold you do so grow in my requital +As nothing can unroot you. In happy time; + +Enter a Gentleman + +This man may help me to his majesty's ear, +If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. + +Gentleman +And you. + +HELENA +Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + +Gentleman +I have been sometimes there. + +HELENA +I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen +From the report that goes upon your goodness; +An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The use of your own virtues, for the which +I shall continue thankful. + +Gentleman +What's your will? + +HELENA +That it will please you +To give this poor petition to the king, +And aid me with that store of power you have +To come into his presence. + +Gentleman +The king's not here. + +HELENA +Not here, sir! + +Gentleman +Not, indeed: +He hence removed last night and with more haste +Than is his use. + +Widow +Lord, how we lose our pains! + +HELENA +ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, +Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + +Gentleman +Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; +Whither I am going. + +HELENA +I do beseech you, sir, +Since you are like to see the king before me, +Commend the paper to his gracious hand, +Which I presume shall render you no blame +But rather make you thank your pains for it. +I will come after you with what good speed +Our means will make us means. + +Gentleman +This I'll do for you. + +HELENA +And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, +Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. +Go, go, provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace. + +Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following +PAROLLES +Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this +letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to +you, when I have held familiarity with fresher +clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's +mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong +displeasure. + +Clown +Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it +smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will +henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. +Prithee, allow the wind. + +PAROLLES +Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake +but by a metaphor. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my +nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get +thee further. + +PAROLLES +Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + +Clown +Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's +close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he +comes himself. + +Enter LAFEU + +Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's +cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the +unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he +says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the +carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, +ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his +distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to +your lordship. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly +scratched. + +LAFEU +And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to +pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the +knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who +of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves +thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for +you: let the justices make you and fortune friends: +I am for other business. + +PAROLLES +I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. + +LAFEU +You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; +save your word. + +PAROLLES +My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + +LAFEU +You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion! +give me your hand. How does your drum? + +PAROLLES +O my good lord, you were the first that found me! + +LAFEU +Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. + +PAROLLES +It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, +for you did bring me out. + +LAFEU +Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once +both the office of God and the devil? One brings +thee in grace and the other brings thee out. + +Trumpets sound + +The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, +inquire further after me; I had talk of you last +night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall +eat; go to, follow. + +PAROLLES +I praise God for you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two French Lords, with Attendants +KING +We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem +Was made much poorer by it: but your son, +As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know +Her estimation home. + +COUNTESS +'Tis past, my liege; +And I beseech your majesty to make it +Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; +When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, +O'erbears it and burns on. + +KING +My honour'd lady, +I have forgiven and forgotten all; +Though my revenges were high bent upon him, +And watch'd the time to shoot. + +LAFEU +This I must say, +But first I beg my pardon, the young lord +Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady +Offence of mighty note; but to himself +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife +Whose beauty did astonish the survey +Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, +Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve +Humbly call'd mistress. + +KING +Praising what is lost +Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; +We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill +All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; +The nature of his great offence is dead, +And deeper than oblivion we do bury +The incensing relics of it: let him approach, +A stranger, no offender; and inform him +So 'tis our will he should. + +Gentleman +I shall, my liege. + +Exit + +KING +What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? + +LAFEU +All that he is hath reference to your highness. + +KING +Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me +That set him high in fame. + +Enter BERTRAM + +LAFEU +He looks well on't. + +KING +I am not a day of season, +For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail +In me at once: but to the brightest beams +Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; +The time is fair again. + +BERTRAM +My high-repented blames, +Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + +KING +All is whole; +Not one word more of the consumed time. +Let's take the instant by the forward top; +For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees +The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time +Steals ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this lord? + +BERTRAM +Admiringly, my liege, at first +I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue +Where the impression of mine eye infixing, +Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, +Which warp'd the line of every other favour; +Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous object: thence it came +That she whom all men praised and whom myself, +Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it. + +KING +Well excused: +That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away +From the great compt: but love that comes too late, +Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, +To the great sender turns a sour offence, +Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults +Make trivial price of serious things we have, +Not knowing them until we know their grave: +Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, +Destroy our friends and after weep their dust +Our own love waking cries to see what's done, +While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. +Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: +The main consents are had; and here we'll stay +To see our widower's second marriage-day. + +COUNTESS +Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! +Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + +LAFEU +Come on, my son, in whom my house's name +Must be digested, give a favour from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. + +BERTRAM gives a ring + +By my old beard, +And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, +Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, +The last that e'er I took her at court, +I saw upon her finger. + +BERTRAM +Hers it was not. + +KING +Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. +This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, +I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood +Necessitied to help, that by this token +I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave +her +Of what should stead her most? + +BERTRAM +My gracious sovereign, +Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was never hers. + +COUNTESS +Son, on my life, +I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it +At her life's rate. + +LAFEU +I am sure I saw her wear it. + +BERTRAM +You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it: +In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, +Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name +Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought +I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed +To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully +I could not answer in that course of honour +As she had made the overture, she ceased +In heavy satisfaction and would never +Receive the ring again. + +KING +Plutus himself, +That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, +Hath not in nature's mystery more science +Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, +Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know +That you are well acquainted with yourself, +Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety +That she would never put it from her finger, +Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, +Where you have never come, or sent it us +Upon her great disaster. + +BERTRAM +She never saw it. + +KING +Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour; +And makest conjectural fears to come into me +Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove +That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;-- +And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead; which nothing, but to close +Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, +More than to see this ring. Take him away. + +Guards seize BERTRAM + +My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, +Shall tax my fears of little vanity, +Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him! +We'll sift this matter further. + +BERTRAM +If you shall prove +This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy +Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she never was. + +Exit, guarded + +KING +I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. + +Enter a Gentleman + +Gentleman +Gracious sovereign, +Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: +Here's a petition from a Florentine, +Who hath for four or five removes come short +To tender it herself. I undertook it, +Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech +Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know +Is here attending: her business looks in her +With an importing visage; and she told me, +In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern +Your highness with herself. + +KING +[Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me +when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won +me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows +are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He +stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow +him to his country for justice: grant it me, O +king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer +flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. +DIANA CAPILET. + +LAFEU +I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for +this: I'll none of him. + +KING +The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu, +To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: +Go speedily and bring again the count. +I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, +Was foully snatch'd. + +COUNTESS +Now, justice on the doers! + +Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded + +KING +I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, +And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. + +Enter Widow and DIANA + +What woman's that? + +DIANA +I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, +Derived from the ancient Capilet: +My suit, as I do understand, you know, +And therefore know how far I may be pitied. + +Widow +I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour +Both suffer under this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease, without your remedy. + +KING +Come hither, count; do you know these women? + +BERTRAM +My lord, I neither can nor will deny +But that I know them: do they charge me further? + +DIANA +Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + +BERTRAM +She's none of mine, my lord. + +DIANA +If you shall marry, +You give away this hand, and that is mine; +You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; +You give away myself, which is known mine; +For I by vow am so embodied yours, +That she which marries you must marry me, +Either both or none. + +LAFEU +Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you +are no husband for her. + +BERTRAM +My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, +Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness +Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour +Than for to think that I would sink it here. + +KING +Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend +Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour +Than in my thought it lies. + +DIANA +Good my lord, +Ask him upon his oath, if he does think +He had not my virginity. + +KING +What say'st thou to her? + +BERTRAM +She's impudent, my lord, +And was a common gamester to the camp. + +DIANA +He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, +He might have bought me at a common price: +Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, +Whose high respect and rich validity +Did lack a parallel; yet for all that +He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, +If I be one. + +COUNTESS +He blushes, and 'tis it: +Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, +Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, +Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; +That ring's a thousand proofs. + +KING +Methought you said +You saw one here in court could witness it. + +DIANA +I did, my lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. + +LAFEU +I saw the man to-day, if man he be. + +KING +Find him, and bring him hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +BERTRAM +What of him? +He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, +With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd; +Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. +Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, +That will speak any thing? + +KING +She hath that ring of yours. + +BERTRAM +I think she has: certain it is I liked her, +And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: +She knew her distance and did angle for me, +Madding my eagerness with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancy's course +Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, +Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, +Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; +And I had that which any inferior might +At market-price have bought. + +DIANA +I must be patient: +You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife, +May justly diet me. I pray you yet; +Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband; +Send for your ring, I will return it home, +And give me mine again. + +BERTRAM +I have it not. + +KING +What ring was yours, I pray you? + +DIANA +Sir, much like +The same upon your finger. + +KING +Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. + +DIANA +And this was it I gave him, being abed. + +KING +The story then goes false, you threw it him +Out of a casement. + +DIANA +I have spoke the truth. + +Enter PAROLLES + +BERTRAM +My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + +KING +You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you. +Is this the man you speak of? + +DIANA +Ay, my lord. + +KING +Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master, +Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off, +By him and by this woman here what know you? + +PAROLLES +So please your majesty, my master hath been an +honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, +which gentlemen have. + +KING +Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? + +KING +How, I pray you? + +PAROLLES +He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. + +KING +How is that? + +PAROLLES +He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + +KING +As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an +equivocal companion is this! + +PAROLLES +I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. + +LAFEU +He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. + +DIANA +Do you know he promised me marriage? + +PAROLLES +Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + +KING +But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? + +PAROLLES +Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, +as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for +indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and +of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I +was in that credit with them at that time that I +knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, +as promising her marriage, and things which would +derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not +speak what I know. + +KING +Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say +they are married: but thou art too fine in thy +evidence; therefore stand aside. +This ring, you say, was yours? + +DIANA +Ay, my good lord. + +KING +Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? + +DIANA +It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + +KING +Who lent it you? + +DIANA +It was not lent me neither. + +KING +Where did you find it, then? + +DIANA +I found it not. + +KING +If it were yours by none of all these ways, +How could you give it him? + +DIANA +I never gave it him. + +LAFEU +This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off +and on at pleasure. + +KING +This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. + +DIANA +It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. + +KING +Take her away; I do not like her now; +To prison with her: and away with him. +Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, +Thou diest within this hour. + +DIANA +I'll never tell you. + +KING +Take her away. + +DIANA +I'll put in bail, my liege. + +KING +I think thee now some common customer. + +DIANA +By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + +KING +Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + +DIANA +Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: +He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't; +I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. +Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; +I am either maid, or else this old man's wife. + +KING +She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. + +DIANA +Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir: + +Exit Widow + +The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this lord, +Who hath abused me, as he knows himself, +Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: +He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; +And at that time he got his wife with child: +Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick: +So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick: +And now behold the meaning. + +Re-enter Widow, with HELENA + +KING +Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? +Is't real that I see? + +HELENA +No, my good lord; +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name and not the thing. + +BERTRAM +Both, both. O, pardon! + +HELENA +O my good lord, when I was like this maid, +I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring; +And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: +'When from my finger you can get this ring +And are by me with child,' & c. This is done: +Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? + +BERTRAM +If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, +I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + +HELENA +If it appear not plain and prove untrue, +Deadly divorce step between me and you! +O my dear mother, do I see you living? + +LAFEU +Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: + +To PAROLLES + +Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so, +I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: +Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. + +KING +Let us from point to point this story know, +To make the even truth in pleasure flow. + +To DIANA + +If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; +For I can guess that by thy honest aid +Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. +Of that and all the progress, more or less, +Resolvedly more leisure shall express: +All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + +Flourish + +EPILOGUE + +KING +The king's a beggar, now the play is done: +All is well ended, if this suit be won, +That you express content; which we will pay, +With strife to please you, day exceeding day: +Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; +Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. + +Exeunt +As You Like It +Shakespeare homepage | As You Like It | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ORLANDO +As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion +bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, +and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his +blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my +sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and +report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, +he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more +properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you +that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that +differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses +are bred better; for, besides that they are fair +with their feeding, they are taught their manage, +and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his +brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the +which his animals on his dunghills are as much +bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so +plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave +me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets +me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a +brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my +gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that +grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I +think is within me, begins to mutiny against this +servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I +know no wise remedy how to avoid it. + +ADAM +Yonder comes my master, your brother. + +ORLANDO +Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will +shake me up. + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Now, sir! what make you here? + +ORLANDO +Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. + +OLIVER +What mar you then, sir? + +ORLANDO +Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God +made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. + +OLIVER +Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. + +ORLANDO +Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? +What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should +come to such penury? + +OLIVER +Know you where your are, sir? + +ORLANDO +O, sir, very well; here in your orchard. + +OLIVER +Know you before whom, sir? + +ORLANDO +Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know +you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle +condition of blood, you should so know me. The +courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that +you are the first-born; but the same tradition +takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers +betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as +you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is +nearer to his reverence. + +OLIVER +What, boy! + +ORLANDO +Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. + +OLIVER +Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? + +ORLANDO +I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice +a villain that says such a father begot villains. +Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand +from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy +tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. + +ADAM +Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's +remembrance, be at accord. + +OLIVER +Let me go, I say. + +ORLANDO +I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My +father charged you in his will to give me good +education: you have trained me like a peasant, +obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like +qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in +me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow +me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or +give me the poor allottery my father left me by +testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. + +OLIVER +And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? +Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled +with you; you shall have some part of your will: I +pray you, leave me. + +ORLANDO +I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good. + +OLIVER +Get you with him, you old dog. + +ADAM +Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my +teeth in your service. God be with my old master! +he would not have spoke such a word. + +Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM + +OLIVER +Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will +physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand +crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! + +Enter DENNIS + +DENNIS +Calls your worship? + +OLIVER +Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? + +DENNIS +So please you, he is here at the door and importunes +access to you. + +OLIVER +Call him in. + +Exit DENNIS + +'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. + +Enter CHARLES + +CHARLES +Good morrow to your worship. + +OLIVER +Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the +new court? + +CHARLES +There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: +that is, the old duke is banished by his younger +brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords +have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, +whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; +therefore he gives them good leave to wander. + +OLIVER +Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be +banished with her father? + +CHARLES +O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves +her, being ever from their cradles bred together, +that she would have followed her exile, or have died +to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no +less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and +never two ladies loved as they do. + +OLIVER +Where will the old duke live? + +CHARLES +They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and +a many merry men with him; and there they live like +the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young +gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time +carelessly, as they did in the golden world. + +OLIVER +What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? + +CHARLES +Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a +matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand +that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition +to come in disguised against me to try a fall. +To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that +escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him +well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, +for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I +must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, +out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you +withal, that either you might stay him from his +intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall +run into, in that it is a thing of his own search +and altogether against my will. + +OLIVER +Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which +thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had +myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and +have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from +it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles: +it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full +of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's +good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against +me his natural brother: therefore use thy +discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck +as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if +thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not +mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise +against thee by poison, entrap thee by some +treacherous device and never leave thee till he +hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; +for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak +it, there is not one so young and so villanous this +day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but +should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must +blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder. + +CHARLES +I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come +to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go +alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and +so God keep your worship! + +OLIVER +Farewell, good Charles. + +Exit CHARLES + +Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see +an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, +hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never +schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of +all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much +in the heart of the world, and especially of my own +people, who best know him, that I am altogether +misprised: but it shall not be so long; this +wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that +I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Lawn before the Duke's palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. + +ROSALIND +Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; +and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could +teach me to forget a banished father, you must not +learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. + +CELIA +Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight +that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, +had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou +hadst been still with me, I could have taught my +love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou, +if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously +tempered as mine is to thee. + +ROSALIND +Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to +rejoice in yours. + +CELIA +You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is +like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt +be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy +father perforce, I will render thee again in +affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break +that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my +sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. + +ROSALIND +From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let +me see; what think you of falling in love? + +CELIA +Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but +love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport +neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst +in honour come off again. + +ROSALIND +What shall be our sport, then? + +CELIA +Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from +her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. + +ROSALIND +I would we could do so, for her benefits are +mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman +doth most mistake in her gifts to women. + +CELIA +'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce +makes honest, and those that she makes honest she +makes very ill-favouredly. + +ROSALIND +Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to +Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, +not in the lineaments of Nature. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she +not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature +hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not +Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? + +ROSALIND +Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when +Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of +Nature's wit. + +CELIA +Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but +Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull +to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this +natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of +the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, +wit! whither wander you? + +TOUCHSTONE +Mistress, you must come away to your father. + +CELIA +Were you made the messenger? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you. + +ROSALIND +Where learned you that oath, fool? + +TOUCHSTONE +Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they +were good pancakes and swore by his honour the +mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the +pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and +yet was not the knight forsworn. + +CELIA +How prove you that, in the great heap of your +knowledge? + +ROSALIND +Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. + +TOUCHSTONE +Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and +swear by your beards that I am a knave. + +CELIA +By our beards, if we had them, thou art. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you +swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no +more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he +never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away +before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard. + +CELIA +Prithee, who is't that thou meanest? + +TOUCHSTONE +One that old Frederick, your father, loves. + +CELIA +My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! +speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation +one of these days. + +TOUCHSTONE +The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what +wise men do foolishly. + +CELIA +By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little +wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery +that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes +Monsieur Le Beau. + +ROSALIND +With his mouth full of news. + +CELIA +Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. + +ROSALIND +Then shall we be news-crammed. + +CELIA +All the better; we shall be the more marketable. + +Enter LE BEAU + +Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news? + +LE BEAU +Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. + +CELIA +Sport! of what colour? + +LE BEAU +What colour, madam! how shall I answer you? + +ROSALIND +As wit and fortune will. + +TOUCHSTONE +Or as the Destinies decree. + +CELIA +Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, if I keep not my rank,-- + +ROSALIND +Thou losest thy old smell. + +LE BEAU +You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good +wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. + +ROSALIND +You tell us the manner of the wrestling. + +LE BEAU +I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please +your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is +yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming +to perform it. + +CELIA +Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. + +LE BEAU +There comes an old man and his three sons,-- + +CELIA +I could match this beginning with an old tale. + +LE BEAU +Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence. + +ROSALIND +With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men +by these presents.' + +LE BEAU +The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the +duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him +and broke three of his ribs, that there is little +hope of life in him: so he served the second, and +so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, +their father, making such pitiful dole over them +that all the beholders take his part with weeping. + +ROSALIND +Alas! + +TOUCHSTONE +But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies +have lost? + +LE BEAU +Why, this that I speak of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first +time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport +for ladies. + +CELIA +Or I, I promise thee. + +ROSALIND +But is there any else longs to see this broken music +in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon +rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? + +LE BEAU +You must, if you stay here; for here is the place +appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to +perform it. + +CELIA +Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it. + +Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants + +DUKE FREDERICK +Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his +own peril on his forwardness. + +ROSALIND +Is yonder the man? + +LE BEAU +Even he, madam. + +CELIA +Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither +to see the wrestling? + +ROSALIND +Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You will take little delight in it, I can tell you; +there is such odds in the man. In pity of the +challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he +will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if +you can move him. + +CELIA +Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Do so: I'll not be by. + +LE BEAU +Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you. + +ORLANDO +I attend them with all respect and duty. + +ROSALIND +Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler? + +ORLANDO +No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I +come but in, as others do, to try with him the +strength of my youth. + +CELIA +Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your +years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's +strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or +knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your +adventure would counsel you to a more equal +enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to +embrace your own safety and give over this attempt. + +ROSALIND +Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore +be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke +that the wrestling might not go forward. + +ORLANDO +I beseech you, punish me not with your hard +thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny +so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let +your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my +trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one +shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one +dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my +friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the +world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in +the world I fill up a place, which may be better +supplied when I have made it empty. + +ROSALIND +The little strength that I have, I would it were with you. + +CELIA +And mine, to eke out hers. + +ROSALIND +Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you! + +CELIA +Your heart's desires be with you! + +CHARLES +Come, where is this young gallant that is so +desirous to lie with his mother earth? + +ORLANDO +Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You shall try but one fall. + +CHARLES +No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him +to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him +from a first. + +ORLANDO +An you mean to mock me after, you should not have +mocked me before: but come your ways. + +ROSALIND +Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! + +CELIA +I would I were invisible, to catch the strong +fellow by the leg. + +They wrestle + +ROSALIND +O excellent young man! + +CELIA +If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who +should down. + +Shout. CHARLES is thrown + +DUKE FREDERICK +No more, no more. + +ORLANDO +Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How dost thou, Charles? + +LE BEAU +He cannot speak, my lord. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? + +ORLANDO +Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. + +DUKE FREDERICK +I would thou hadst been son to some man else: +The world esteem'd thy father honourable, +But I did find him still mine enemy: +Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, +Hadst thou descended from another house. +But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth: +I would thou hadst told me of another father. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU + +CELIA +Were I my father, coz, would I do this? + +ORLANDO +I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, +His youngest son; and would not change that calling, +To be adopted heir to Frederick. + +ROSALIND +My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, +And all the world was of my father's mind: +Had I before known this young man his son, +I should have given him tears unto entreaties, +Ere he should thus have ventured. + +CELIA +Gentle cousin, +Let us go thank him and encourage him: +My father's rough and envious disposition +Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved: +If you do keep your promises in love +But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, +Your mistress shall be happy. + +ROSALIND +Gentleman, + +Giving him a chain from her neck + +Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, +That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. +Shall we go, coz? + +CELIA +Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. + +ORLANDO +Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts +Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up +Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. + +ROSALIND +He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes; +I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir? +Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown +More than your enemies. + +CELIA +Will you go, coz? + +ROSALIND +Have with you. Fare you well. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +ORLANDO +What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? +I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. +O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! +Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. + +Re-enter LE BEAU + +LE BEAU +Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you +To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved +High commendation, true applause and love, +Yet such is now the duke's condition +That he misconstrues all that you have done. +The duke is humorous; what he is indeed, +More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. + +ORLANDO +I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this: +Which of the two was daughter of the duke +That here was at the wrestling? + +LE BEAU +Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; +But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter +The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, +And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, +To keep his daughter company; whose loves +Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. +But I can tell you that of late this duke +Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, +Grounded upon no other argument +But that the people praise her for her virtues +And pity her for her good father's sake; +And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady +Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well: +Hereafter, in a better world than this, +I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. + +ORLANDO +I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. + +Exit LE BEAU + +Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; +From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother: +But heavenly Rosalind! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word? + +ROSALIND +Not one to throw at a dog. + +CELIA +No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon +curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. + +ROSALIND +Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one +should be lamed with reasons and the other mad +without any. + +CELIA +But is all this for your father? + +ROSALIND +No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how +full of briers is this working-day world! + +CELIA +They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in +holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden +paths our very petticoats will catch them. + +ROSALIND +I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. + +CELIA +Hem them away. + +ROSALIND +I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him. + +CELIA +Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. + +ROSALIND +O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself! + +CELIA +O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in +despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of +service, let us talk in good earnest: is it +possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so +strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? + +ROSALIND +The duke my father loved his father dearly. + +CELIA +Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son +dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, +for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate +not Orlando. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. + +CELIA +Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? + +ROSALIND +Let me love him for that, and do you love him +because I do. Look, here comes the duke. + +CELIA +With his eyes full of anger. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords + +DUKE FREDERICK +Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste +And get you from our court. + +ROSALIND +Me, uncle? + +DUKE FREDERICK +You, cousin +Within these ten days if that thou be'st found +So near our public court as twenty miles, +Thou diest for it. + +ROSALIND +I do beseech your grace, +Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: +If with myself I hold intelligence +Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, +If that I do not dream or be not frantic,-- +As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, +Never so much as in a thought unborn +Did I offend your highness. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thus do all traitors: +If their purgation did consist in words, +They are as innocent as grace itself: +Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. + +ROSALIND +Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: +Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. + +ROSALIND +So was I when your highness took his dukedom; +So was I when your highness banish'd him: +Treason is not inherited, my lord; +Or, if we did derive it from our friends, +What's that to me? my father was no traitor: +Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much +To think my poverty is treacherous. + +CELIA +Dear sovereign, hear me speak. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, +Else had she with her father ranged along. + +CELIA +I did not then entreat to have her stay; +It was your pleasure and your own remorse: +I was too young that time to value her; +But now I know her: if she be a traitor, +Why so am I; we still have slept together, +Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together, +And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, +Still we went coupled and inseparable. + +DUKE FREDERICK +She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, +Her very silence and her patience +Speak to the people, and they pity her. +Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; +And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous +When she is gone. Then open not thy lips: +Firm and irrevocable is my doom +Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. + +CELIA +Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: +I cannot live out of her company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself: +If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, +And in the greatness of my word, you die. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords + +CELIA +O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? +Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. +I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. + +ROSALIND +I have more cause. + +CELIA +Thou hast not, cousin; +Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke +Hath banish'd me, his daughter? + +ROSALIND +That he hath not. + +CELIA +No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love +Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: +Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? +No: let my father seek another heir. +Therefore devise with me how we may fly, +Whither to go and what to bear with us; +And do not seek to take your change upon you, +To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out; +For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, +Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. + +ROSALIND +Why, whither shall we go? + +CELIA +To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. + +ROSALIND +Alas, what danger will it be to us, +Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! +Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. + +CELIA +I'll put myself in poor and mean attire +And with a kind of umber smirch my face; +The like do you: so shall we pass along +And never stir assailants. + +ROSALIND +Were it not better, +Because that I am more than common tall, +That I did suit me all points like a man? +A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, +A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart +Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-- +We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, +As many other mannish cowards have +That do outface it with their semblances. + +CELIA +What shall I call thee when thou art a man? + +ROSALIND +I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page; +And therefore look you call me Ganymede. +But what will you be call'd? + +CELIA +Something that hath a reference to my state +No longer Celia, but Aliena. + +ROSALIND +But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal +The clownish fool out of your father's court? +Would he not be a comfort to our travel? + +CELIA +He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; +Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, +And get our jewels and our wealth together, +Devise the fittest time and safest way +To hide us from pursuit that will be made +After my flight. Now go we in content +To liberty and not to banishment. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters +DUKE SENIOR +Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, +Hath not old custom made this life more sweet +Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods +More free from peril than the envious court? +Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, +The seasons' difference, as the icy fang +And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, +Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, +Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say +'This is no flattery: these are counsellors +That feelingly persuade me what I am.' +Sweet are the uses of adversity, +Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, +Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; +And this our life exempt from public haunt +Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, +Sermons in stones and good in every thing. +I would not change it. + +AMIENS +Happy is your grace, +That can translate the stubbornness of fortune +Into so quiet and so sweet a style. + +DUKE SENIOR +Come, shall we go and kill us venison? +And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, +Being native burghers of this desert city, +Should in their own confines with forked heads +Have their round haunches gored. + +First Lord +Indeed, my lord, +The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, +And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp +Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. +To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself +Did steal behind him as he lay along +Under an oak whose antique root peeps out +Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: +To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, +That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, +Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord, +The wretched animal heaved forth such groans +That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat +Almost to bursting, and the big round tears +Coursed one another down his innocent nose +In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool +Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, +Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, +Augmenting it with tears. + +DUKE SENIOR +But what said Jaques? +Did he not moralize this spectacle? + +First Lord +O, yes, into a thousand similes. +First, for his weeping into the needless stream; +'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament +As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more +To that which had too much:' then, being there alone, +Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, +''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part +The flux of company:' anon a careless herd, +Full of the pasture, jumps along by him +And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques, +'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; +'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look +Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?' +Thus most invectively he pierceth through +The body of the country, city, court, +Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we +Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, +To fright the animals and to kill them up +In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. + +DUKE SENIOR +And did you leave him in this contemplation? + +Second Lord +We did, my lord, weeping and commenting +Upon the sobbing deer. + +DUKE SENIOR +Show me the place: +I love to cope him in these sullen fits, +For then he's full of matter. + +First Lord +I'll bring you to him straight. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords +DUKE FREDERICK +Can it be possible that no man saw them? +It cannot be: some villains of my court +Are of consent and sufferance in this. + +First Lord +I cannot hear of any that did see her. +The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, +Saw her abed, and in the morning early +They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. + +Second Lord +My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft +Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. +Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, +Confesses that she secretly o'erheard +Your daughter and her cousin much commend +The parts and graces of the wrestler +That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; +And she believes, wherever they are gone, +That youth is surely in their company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither; +If he be absent, bring his brother to me; +I'll make him find him: do this suddenly, +And let not search and inquisition quail +To bring again these foolish runaways. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting +ORLANDO +Who's there? + +ADAM +What, my young master? O, my gentle master! +O my sweet master! O you memory +Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? +Why are you virtuous? why do people love you? +And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant? +Why would you be so fond to overcome +The bonny priser of the humorous duke? +Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. +Know you not, master, to some kind of men +Their graces serve them but as enemies? +No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, +Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. +O, what a world is this, when what is comely +Envenoms him that bears it! + +ORLANDO +Why, what's the matter? + +ADAM +O unhappy youth! +Come not within these doors; within this roof +The enemy of all your graces lives: +Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son-- +Yet not the son, I will not call him son +Of him I was about to call his father-- +Hath heard your praises, and this night he means +To burn the lodging where you use to lie +And you within it: if he fail of that, +He will have other means to cut you off. +I overheard him and his practises. +This is no place; this house is but a butchery: +Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. + +ORLANDO +Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? + +ADAM +No matter whither, so you come not here. + +ORLANDO +What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? +Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce +A thievish living on the common road? +This I must do, or know not what to do: +Yet this I will not do, do how I can; +I rather will subject me to the malice +Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. + +ADAM +But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, +The thrifty hire I saved under your father, +Which I did store to be my foster-nurse +When service should in my old limbs lie lame +And unregarded age in corners thrown: +Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, +Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, +Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold; +And all this I give you. Let me be your servant: +Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; +For in my youth I never did apply +Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, +Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo +The means of weakness and debility; +Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, +Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; +I'll do the service of a younger man +In all your business and necessities. + +ORLANDO +O good old man, how well in thee appears +The constant service of the antique world, +When service sweat for duty, not for meed! +Thou art not for the fashion of these times, +Where none will sweat but for promotion, +And having that, do choke their service up +Even with the having: it is not so with thee. +But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree, +That cannot so much as a blossom yield +In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry +But come thy ways; well go along together, +And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, +We'll light upon some settled low content. + +ADAM +Master, go on, and I will follow thee, +To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. +From seventeen years till now almost fourscore +Here lived I, but now live here no more. +At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; +But at fourscore it is too late a week: +Yet fortune cannot recompense me better +Than to die well and not my master's debtor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE +ROSALIND +O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! + +TOUCHSTONE +I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. + +ROSALIND +I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's +apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort +the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show +itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage, +good Aliena! + +CELIA +I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further. + +TOUCHSTONE +For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear +you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, +for I think you have no money in your purse. + +ROSALIND +Well, this is the forest of Arden. + +TOUCHSTONE +Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home, I was in a better place: but travellers +must be content. + +ROSALIND +Ay, be so, good Touchstone. + +Enter CORIN and SILVIUS + +Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in +solemn talk. + +CORIN +That is the way to make her scorn you still. + +SILVIUS +O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! + +CORIN +I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. + +SILVIUS +No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, +Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover +As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: +But if thy love were ever like to mine-- +As sure I think did never man love so-- +How many actions most ridiculous +Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? + +CORIN +Into a thousand that I have forgotten. + +SILVIUS +O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! +If thou remember'st not the slightest folly +That ever love did make thee run into, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, +Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not broke from company +Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, +Thou hast not loved. +O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, +I have by hard adventure found mine own. + +TOUCHSTONE +And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke +my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for +coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the +kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her +pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the +wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took +two cods and, giving her them again, said with +weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are +true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is +mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. + +ROSALIND +Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I +break my shins against it. + +ROSALIND +Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion +Is much upon my fashion. + +TOUCHSTONE +And mine; but it grows something stale with me. + +CELIA +I pray you, one of you question yond man +If he for gold will give us any food: +I faint almost to death. + +TOUCHSTONE +Holla, you clown! + +ROSALIND +Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. + +CORIN +Who calls? + +TOUCHSTONE +Your betters, sir. + +CORIN +Else are they very wretched. + +ROSALIND +Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. + +CORIN +And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. + +ROSALIND +I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold +Can in this desert place buy entertainment, +Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: +Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd +And faints for succor. + +CORIN +Fair sir, I pity her +And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, +My fortunes were more able to relieve her; +But I am shepherd to another man +And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: +My master is of churlish disposition +And little recks to find the way to heaven +By doing deeds of hospitality: +Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed +Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, +By reason of his absence, there is nothing +That you will feed on; but what is, come see. +And in my voice most welcome shall you be. + +ROSALIND +What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? + +CORIN +That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, +That little cares for buying any thing. + +ROSALIND +I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, +Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, +And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. + +CELIA +And we will mend thy wages. I like this place. +And willingly could waste my time in it. + +CORIN +Assuredly the thing is to be sold: +Go with me: if you like upon report +The soil, the profit and this kind of life, +I will your very faithful feeder be +And buy it with your gold right suddenly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The Forest. + +Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others +SONG. + +AMIENS +Under the greenwood tree +Who loves to lie with me, +And turn his merry note +Unto the sweet bird's throat, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +More, more, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck +melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. +More, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. + +JAQUES +I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to +sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos? + +AMIENS +What you will, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me +nothing. Will you sing? + +AMIENS +More at your request than to please myself. + +JAQUES +Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; +but that they call compliment is like the encounter +of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily, +methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me +the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will +not, hold your tongues. + +AMIENS +Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the +duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all +this day to look you. + +JAQUES +And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is +too disputable for my company: I think of as many +matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no +boast of them. Come, warble, come. +SONG. +Who doth ambition shun + +All together here + +And loves to live i' the sun, +Seeking the food he eats +And pleased with what he gets, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +I'll give you a verse to this note that I made +yesterday in despite of my invention. + +AMIENS +And I'll sing it. + +JAQUES +Thus it goes:-- +If it do come to pass +That any man turn ass, +Leaving his wealth and ease, +A stubborn will to please, +Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: +Here shall he see +Gross fools as he, +An if he will come to me. + +AMIENS +What's that 'ducdame'? + +JAQUES +'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a +circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll +rail against all the first-born of Egypt. + +AMIENS +And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE VI. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ADAM +Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! +Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, +kind master. + +ORLANDO +Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live +a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. +If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I +will either be food for it or bring it for food to +thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. +For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at +the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently; +and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will +give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I +come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! +thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. +Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear +thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for +lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this +desert. Cheerly, good Adam! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The forest. + +A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws +DUKE SENIOR +I think he be transform'd into a beast; +For I can no where find him like a man. + +First Lord +My lord, he is but even now gone hence: +Here was he merry, hearing of a song. + +DUKE SENIOR +If he, compact of jars, grow musical, +We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. +Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him. + +Enter JAQUES + +First Lord +He saves my labour by his own approach. + +DUKE SENIOR +Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, +That your poor friends must woo your company? +What, you look merrily! + +JAQUES +A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, +A motley fool; a miserable world! +As I do live by food, I met a fool +Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, +And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, +In good set terms and yet a motley fool. +'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he, +'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:' +And then he drew a dial from his poke, +And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, +Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: +Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags: +'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, +And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; +And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, +And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; +And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear +The motley fool thus moral on the time, +My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, +That fools should be so deep-contemplative, +And I did laugh sans intermission +An hour by his dial. O noble fool! +A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. + +DUKE SENIOR +What fool is this? + +JAQUES +O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, +And says, if ladies be but young and fair, +They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, +Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit +After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd +With observation, the which he vents +In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! +I am ambitious for a motley coat. + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou shalt have one. + +JAQUES +It is my only suit; +Provided that you weed your better judgments +Of all opinion that grows rank in them +That I am wise. I must have liberty +Withal, as large a charter as the wind, +To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; +And they that are most galled with my folly, +They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so? +The 'why' is plain as way to parish church: +He that a fool doth very wisely hit +Doth very foolishly, although he smart, +Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, +The wise man's folly is anatomized +Even by the squandering glances of the fool. +Invest me in my motley; give me leave +To speak my mind, and I will through and through +Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, +If they will patiently receive my medicine. + +DUKE SENIOR +Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. + +JAQUES +What, for a counter, would I do but good? + +DUKE SENIOR +Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: +For thou thyself hast been a libertine, +As sensual as the brutish sting itself; +And all the embossed sores and headed evils, +That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, +Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. + +JAQUES +Why, who cries out on pride, +That can therein tax any private party? +Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, +Till that the weary very means do ebb? +What woman in the city do I name, +When that I say the city-woman bears +The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? +Who can come in and say that I mean her, +When such a one as she such is her neighbour? +Or what is he of basest function +That says his bravery is not of my cost, +Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits +His folly to the mettle of my speech? +There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein +My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, +Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free, +Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, +Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here? + +Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn + +ORLANDO +Forbear, and eat no more. + +JAQUES +Why, I have eat none yet. + +ORLANDO +Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. + +JAQUES +Of what kind should this cock come of? + +DUKE SENIOR +Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, +Or else a rude despiser of good manners, +That in civility thou seem'st so empty? + +ORLANDO +You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point +Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show +Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred +And know some nurture. But forbear, I say: +He dies that touches any of this fruit +Till I and my affairs are answered. + +JAQUES +An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. + +DUKE SENIOR +What would you have? Your gentleness shall force +More than your force move us to gentleness. + +ORLANDO +I almost die for food; and let me have it. + +DUKE SENIOR +Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. + +ORLANDO +Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: +I thought that all things had been savage here; +And therefore put I on the countenance +Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are +That in this desert inaccessible, +Under the shade of melancholy boughs, +Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time +If ever you have look'd on better days, +If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, +If ever sat at any good man's feast, +If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear +And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, +Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: +In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. + +DUKE SENIOR +True is it that we have seen better days, +And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church +And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes +Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: +And therefore sit you down in gentleness +And take upon command what help we have +That to your wanting may be minister'd. + +ORLANDO +Then but forbear your food a little while, +Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn +And give it food. There is an old poor man, +Who after me hath many a weary step +Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed, +Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, +I will not touch a bit. + +DUKE SENIOR +Go find him out, +And we will nothing waste till you return. + +ORLANDO +I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: +This wide and universal theatre +Presents more woeful pageants than the scene +Wherein we play in. + +JAQUES +All the world's a stage, +And all the men and women merely players: +They have their exits and their entrances; +And one man in his time plays many parts, +His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, +Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. +And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel +And shining morning face, creeping like snail +Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, +Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad +Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, +Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, +Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, +Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, +In fair round belly with good capon lined, +With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, +Full of wise saws and modern instances; +And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts +Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, +With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, +His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide +For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, +Turning again toward childish treble, pipes +And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, +That ends this strange eventful history, +Is second childishness and mere oblivion, +Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + +Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen, +And let him feed. + +ORLANDO +I thank you most for him. + +ADAM +So had you need: +I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you +As yet, to question you about your fortunes. +Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. +SONG. + +AMIENS +Blow, blow, thou winter wind. +Thou art not so unkind +As man's ingratitude; +Thy tooth is not so keen, +Because thou art not seen, +Although thy breath be rude. +Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: +Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: +Then, heigh-ho, the holly! +This life is most jolly. +Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, +That dost not bite so nigh +As benefits forgot: +Though thou the waters warp, +Thy sting is not so sharp +As friend remember'd not. +Heigh-ho! sing, & c. + +DUKE SENIOR +If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, +As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, +And as mine eye doth his effigies witness +Most truly limn'd and living in your face, +Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke +That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, +Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, +Thou art right welcome as thy master is. +Support him by the arm. Give me your hand, +And let me all your fortunes understand. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER +DUKE FREDERICK +Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: +But were I not the better part made mercy, +I should not seek an absent argument +Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: +Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is; +Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living +Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more +To seek a living in our territory. +Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine +Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, +Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth +Of what we think against thee. + +OLIVER +O that your highness knew my heart in this! +I never loved my brother in my life. + +DUKE FREDERICK +More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; +And let my officers of such a nature +Make an extent upon his house and lands: +Do this expediently and turn him going. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO, with a paper +ORLANDO +Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: +And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey +With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, +Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. +O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books +And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; +That every eye which in this forest looks +Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. +Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree +The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CORIN +And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone? + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good +life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, +it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I +like it very well; but in respect that it is +private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it +is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in +respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As +is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; +but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much +against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? + +CORIN +No more but that I know the more one sickens the +worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, +means and content is without three good friends; +that the property of rain is to wet and fire to +burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a +great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that +he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may +complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred. + +TOUCHSTONE +Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in +court, shepherd? + +CORIN +No, truly. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then thou art damned. + +CORIN +Nay, I hope. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all +on one side. + +CORIN +For not being at court? Your reason. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest +good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, +then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is +sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous +state, shepherd. + +CORIN +Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners +at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the +behavior of the country is most mockable at the +court. You told me you salute not at the court, but +you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be +uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds. + +TOUCHSTONE +Instance, briefly; come, instance. + +CORIN +Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their +fells, you know, are greasy. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not +the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of +a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come. + +CORIN +Besides, our hands are hard. + +TOUCHSTONE +Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. +A more sounder instance, come. + +CORIN +And they are often tarred over with the surgery of +our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The +courtier's hands are perfumed with civet. + +TOUCHSTONE +Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a +good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and +perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the +very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. + +CORIN +You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man! +God make incision in thee! thou art raw. + +CORIN +Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get +that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's +happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my +harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes +graze and my lambs suck. + +TOUCHSTONE +That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes +and the rams together and to offer to get your +living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a +bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a +twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, +out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not +damned for this, the devil himself will have no +shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst +'scape. + +CORIN +Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. + +Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading + +ROSALIND +From the east to western Ind, +No jewel is like Rosalind. +Her worth, being mounted on the wind, +Through all the world bears Rosalind. +All the pictures fairest lined +Are but black to Rosalind. +Let no fair be kept in mind +But the fair of Rosalind. + +TOUCHSTONE +I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and +suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the +right butter-women's rank to market. + +ROSALIND +Out, fool! + +TOUCHSTONE +For a taste: +If a hart do lack a hind, +Let him seek out Rosalind. +If the cat will after kind, +So be sure will Rosalind. +Winter garments must be lined, +So must slender Rosalind. +They that reap must sheaf and bind; +Then to cart with Rosalind. +Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, +Such a nut is Rosalind. +He that sweetest rose will find +Must find love's prick and Rosalind. +This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you +infect yourself with them? + +ROSALIND +Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. + +ROSALIND +I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it +with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit +i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half +ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. + +TOUCHSTONE +You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the +forest judge. + +Enter CELIA, with a writing + +ROSALIND +Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside. + +CELIA +[Reads] +Why should this a desert be? +For it is unpeopled? No: +Tongues I'll hang on every tree, +That shall civil sayings show: +Some, how brief the life of man +Runs his erring pilgrimage, +That the stretching of a span +Buckles in his sum of age; +Some, of violated vows +'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: +But upon the fairest boughs, +Or at every sentence end, +Will I Rosalinda write, +Teaching all that read to know +The quintessence of every sprite +Heaven would in little show. +Therefore Heaven Nature charged +That one body should be fill'd +With all graces wide-enlarged: +Nature presently distill'd +Helen's cheek, but not her heart, +Cleopatra's majesty, +Atalanta's better part, +Sad Lucretia's modesty. +Thus Rosalind of many parts +By heavenly synod was devised, +Of many faces, eyes and hearts, +To have the touches dearest prized. +Heaven would that she these gifts should have, +And I to live and die her slave. + +ROSALIND +O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love +have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never +cried 'Have patience, good people!' + +CELIA +How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little. +Go with him, sirrah. + +TOUCHSTONE +Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; +though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. + +Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +Didst thou hear these verses? + +ROSALIND +O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of +them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. + +CELIA +That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear +themselves without the verse and therefore stood +lamely in the verse. + +CELIA +But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name +should be hanged and carved upon these trees? + +ROSALIND +I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder +before you came; for look here what I found on a +palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since +Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I +can hardly remember. + +CELIA +Trow you who hath done this? + +ROSALIND +Is it a man? + +CELIA +And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. +Change you colour? + +ROSALIND +I prithee, who? + +CELIA +O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to +meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes +and so encounter. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but who is it? + +CELIA +Is it possible? + +ROSALIND +Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence, +tell me who it is. + +CELIA +O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful +wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, +out of all hooping! + +ROSALIND +Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am +caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in +my disposition? One inch of delay more is a +South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it +quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst +stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man +out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- +mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at +all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that +may drink thy tidings. + +CELIA +So you may put a man in your belly. + +ROSALIND +Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his +head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? + +CELIA +Nay, he hath but a little beard. + +ROSALIND +Why, God will send more, if the man will be +thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if +thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. + +CELIA +It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's +heels and your heart both in an instant. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and +true maid. + +CELIA +I' faith, coz, 'tis he. + +ROSALIND +Orlando? + +CELIA +Orlando. + +ROSALIND +Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and +hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said +he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes +him here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? +How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see +him again? Answer me in one word. + +CELIA +You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a +word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To +say ay and no to these particulars is more than to +answer in a catechism. + +ROSALIND +But doth he know that I am in this forest and in +man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the +day he wrestled? + +CELIA +It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the +propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my +finding him, and relish it with good observance. +I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. + +ROSALIND +It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops +forth such fruit. + +CELIA +Give me audience, good madam. + +ROSALIND +Proceed. + +CELIA +There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight. + +ROSALIND +Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well +becomes the ground. + +CELIA +Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets +unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. + +ROSALIND +O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. + +CELIA +I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest +me out of tune. + +ROSALIND +Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must +speak. Sweet, say on. + +CELIA +You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? + +Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES + +ROSALIND +'Tis he: slink by, and note him. + +JAQUES +I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had +as lief have been myself alone. + +ORLANDO +And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you +too for your society. + +JAQUES +God be wi' you: let's meet as little as we can. + +ORLANDO +I do desire we may be better strangers. + +JAQUES +I pray you, mar no more trees with writing +love-songs in their barks. + +ORLANDO +I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading +them ill-favouredly. + +JAQUES +Rosalind is your love's name? + +ORLANDO +Yes, just. + +JAQUES +I do not like her name. + +ORLANDO +There was no thought of pleasing you when she was +christened. + +JAQUES +What stature is she of? + +ORLANDO +Just as high as my heart. + +JAQUES +You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been +acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them +out of rings? + +ORLANDO +Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from +whence you have studied your questions. + +JAQUES +You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of +Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and +we two will rail against our mistress the world and +all our misery. + +ORLANDO +I will chide no breather in the world but myself, +against whom I know most faults. + +JAQUES +The worst fault you have is to be in love. + +ORLANDO +'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. +I am weary of you. + +JAQUES +By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found +you. + +ORLANDO +He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you +shall see him. + +JAQUES +There I shall see mine own figure. + +ORLANDO +Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. + +JAQUES +I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good +Signior Love. + +ORLANDO +I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur +Melancholy. + +Exit JAQUES + +ROSALIND +[Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy +lackey and under that habit play the knave with him. +Do you hear, forester? + +ORLANDO +Very well: what would you? + +ROSALIND +I pray you, what is't o'clock? + +ORLANDO +You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock +in the forest. + +ROSALIND +Then there is no true lover in the forest; else +sighing every minute and groaning every hour would +detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock. + +ORLANDO +And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that +been as proper? + +ROSALIND +By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with +divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles +withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops +withal and who he stands still withal. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, who doth he trot withal? + +ROSALIND +Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the +contract of her marriage and the day it is +solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, +Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of +seven year. + +ORLANDO +Who ambles Time withal? + +ROSALIND +With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that +hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because +he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because +he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean +and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden +of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal. + +ORLANDO +Who doth he gallop withal? + +ROSALIND +With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as +softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. + +ORLANDO +Who stays it still withal? + +ROSALIND +With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between +term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves. + +ORLANDO +Where dwell you, pretty youth? + +ROSALIND +With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the +skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. + +ORLANDO +Are you native of this place? + +ROSALIND +As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled. + +ORLANDO +Your accent is something finer than you could +purchase in so removed a dwelling. + +ROSALIND +I have been told so of many: but indeed an old +religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was +in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship +too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard +him read many lectures against it, and I thank God +I am not a woman, to be touched with so many +giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their +whole sex withal. + +ORLANDO +Can you remember any of the principal evils that he +laid to the charge of women? + +ROSALIND +There were none principal; they were all like one +another as half-pence are, every one fault seeming +monstrous till his fellow fault came to match it. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, recount some of them. + +ROSALIND +No, I will not cast away my physic but on those that +are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that +abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on +their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies +on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of +Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would +give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the +quotidian of love upon him. + +ORLANDO +I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me +your remedy. + +ROSALIND +There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he +taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage +of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner. + +ORLANDO +What were his marks? + +ROSALIND +A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and +sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable +spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected, +which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for +simply your having in beard is a younger brother's +revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your +bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe +untied and every thing about you demonstrating a +careless desolation; but you are no such man; you +are rather point-device in your accoutrements as +loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other. + +ORLANDO +Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love. + +ROSALIND +Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you +love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to +do than to confess she does: that is one of the +points in the which women still give the lie to +their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he +that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind +is so admired? + +ORLANDO +I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of +Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. + +ROSALIND +But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak? + +ORLANDO +Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. + +ROSALIND +Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves +as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and +the reason why they are not so punished and cured +is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers +are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. + +ORLANDO +Did you ever cure any so? + +ROSALIND +Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me +his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to +woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish +youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing +and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, +inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every +passion something and for no passion truly any +thing, as boys and women are for the most part +cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe +him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep +for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor +from his mad humour of love to a living humour of +madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of +the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic. +And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon +me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's +heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't. + +ORLANDO +I would not be cured, youth. + +ROSALIND +I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind +and come every day to my cote and woo me. + +ORLANDO +Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me +where it is. + +ROSALIND +Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way +you shall tell me where in the forest you live. +Will you go? + +ORLANDO +With all my heart, good youth. + +ROSALIND +Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go? + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind +TOUCHSTONE +Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your +goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? +doth my simple feature content you? + +AUDREY +Your features! Lord warrant us! what features! + +TOUCHSTONE +I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most +capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths. + +JAQUES +[Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove +in a thatched house! + +TOUCHSTONE +When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a +man's good wit seconded with the forward child +Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a +great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee poetical. + +AUDREY +I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in +deed and word? is it a true thing? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most +feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what +they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign. + +AUDREY +Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical? + +TOUCHSTONE +I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art +honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some +hope thou didst feign. + +AUDREY +Would you not have me honest? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for +honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar. + +JAQUES +[Aside] A material fool! + +AUDREY +Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods +make me honest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut +were to put good meat into an unclean dish. + +AUDREY +I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul. + +TOUCHSTONE +Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! +sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may +be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been +with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next +village, who hath promised to meet me in this place +of the forest and to couple us. + +JAQUES +[Aside] I would fain see this meeting. + +AUDREY +Well, the gods give us joy! + +TOUCHSTONE +Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, +stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple +but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what +though? C ourage! As horns are odious, they are +necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of +his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and +knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of +his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns? +Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer +hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man +therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more +worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a +married man more honourable than the bare brow of a +bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no +skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to +want. Here comes Sir Oliver. + +Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT + +Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you +dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go +with you to your chapel? + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Is there none here to give the woman? + +TOUCHSTONE +I will not take her on gift of any man. + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful. + +JAQUES +[Advancing] +Proceed, proceed I'll give her. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, good Master What-ye-call't: how do you, +sir? You are very well met: God 'ild you for your +last company: I am very glad to see you: even a +toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered. + +JAQUES +Will you be married, motley? + +TOUCHSTONE +As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and +the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and +as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling. + +JAQUES +And will you, being a man of your breeding, be +married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to +church, and have a good priest that can tell you +what marriage is: this fellow will but join you +together as they join wainscot; then one of you will +prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp. + +TOUCHSTONE +[Aside] I am not in the mind but I were better to be +married of him than of another: for he is not like +to marry me well; and not being well married, it +will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. + +JAQUES +Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Come, sweet Audrey: +We must be married, or we must live in bawdry. +Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,-- +O sweet Oliver, +O brave Oliver, +Leave me not behind thee: but,-- +Wind away, +Begone, I say, +I will not to wedding with thee. + +Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them +all shall flout me out of my calling. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +Never talk to me; I will weep. + +CELIA +Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider +that tears do not become a man. + +ROSALIND +But have I not cause to weep? + +CELIA +As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. + +ROSALIND +His very hair is of the dissembling colour. + +CELIA +Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are +Judas's own children. + +ROSALIND +I' faith, his hair is of a good colour. + +CELIA +An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour. + +ROSALIND +And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch +of holy bread. + +CELIA +He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun +of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; +the very ice of chastity is in them. + +ROSALIND +But why did he swear he would come this morning, and +comes not? + +CELIA +Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. + +ROSALIND +Do you think so? + +CELIA +Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a +horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do +think him as concave as a covered goblet or a +worm-eaten nut. + +ROSALIND +Not true in love? + +CELIA +Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in. + +ROSALIND +You have heard him swear downright he was. + +CELIA +'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is +no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are +both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends +here in the forest on the duke your father. + +ROSALIND +I met the duke yesterday and had much question with +him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told +him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go. +But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a +man as Orlando? + +CELIA +O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, +speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks +them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of +his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse +but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble +goose: but all's brave that youth mounts and folly +guides. Who comes here? + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Mistress and master, you have oft inquired +After the shepherd that complain'd of love, +Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, +Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess +That was his mistress. + +CELIA +Well, and what of him? + +CORIN +If you will see a pageant truly play'd, +Between the pale complexion of true love +And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, +Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, +If you will mark it. + +ROSALIND +O, come, let us remove: +The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. +Bring us to this sight, and you shall say +I'll prove a busy actor in their play. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the forest. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe; +Say that you love me not, but say not so +In bitterness. The common executioner, +Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard, +Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck +But first begs pardon: will you sterner be +Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, behind + +PHEBE +I would not be thy executioner: +I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. +Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: +'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, +That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, +Who shut their coward gates on atomies, +Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! +Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; +And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee: +Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; +Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, +Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! +Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee: +Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains +Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, +The cicatrice and capable impressure +Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes, +Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, +Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes +That can do hurt. + +SILVIUS +O dear Phebe, +If ever,--as that ever may be near,-- +You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, +Then shall you know the wounds invisible +That love's keen arrows make. + +PHEBE +But till that time +Come not thou near me: and when that time comes, +Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; +As till that time I shall not pity thee. + +ROSALIND +And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, +That you insult, exult, and all at once, +Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,-- +As, by my faith, I see no more in you +Than without candle may go dark to bed-- +Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? +Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? +I see no more in you than in the ordinary +Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, +I think she means to tangle my eyes too! +No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it: +'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, +Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, +That can entame my spirits to your worship. +You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, +Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? +You are a thousand times a properer man +Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you +That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children: +'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; +And out of you she sees herself more proper +Than any of her lineaments can show her. +But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees, +And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: +For I must tell you friendly in your ear, +Sell when you can: you are not for all markets: +Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer: +Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. +So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well. + +PHEBE +Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together: +I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. + +ROSALIND +He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll +fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as +she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her +with bitter words. Why look you so upon me? + +PHEBE +For no ill will I bear you. + +ROSALIND +I pray you, do not fall in love with me, +For I am falser than vows made in wine: +Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, +'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. +Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. +Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better, +And be not proud: though all the world could see, +None could be so abused in sight as he. +Come, to our flock. + +Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN + +PHEBE +Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, +'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe,-- + +PHEBE +Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, pity me. + +PHEBE +Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. + +SILVIUS +Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: +If you do sorrow at my grief in love, +By giving love your sorrow and my grief +Were both extermined. + +PHEBE +Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly? + +SILVIUS +I would have you. + +PHEBE +Why, that were covetousness. +Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, +And yet it is not that I bear thee love; +But since that thou canst talk of love so well, +Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, +I will endure, and I'll employ thee too: +But do not look for further recompense +Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd. + +SILVIUS +So holy and so perfect is my love, +And I in such a poverty of grace, +That I shall think it a most plenteous crop +To glean the broken ears after the man +That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then +A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. + +PHEBE +Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile? + +SILVIUS +Not very well, but I have met him oft; +And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds +That the old carlot once was master of. + +PHEBE +Think not I love him, though I ask for him: +'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; +But what care I for words? yet words do well +When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. +It is a pretty youth: not very pretty: +But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him: +He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him +Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue +Did make offence his eye did heal it up. +He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: +His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: +There was a pretty redness in his lip, +A little riper and more lusty red +Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference +Between the constant red and mingled damask. +There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him +In parcels as I did, would have gone near +To fall in love with him; but, for my part, +I love him not nor hate him not; and yet +I have more cause to hate him than to love him: +For what had he to do to chide at me? +He said mine eyes were black and my hair black: +And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: +I marvel why I answer'd not again: +But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. +I'll write to him a very taunting letter, +And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Phebe, with all my heart. + +PHEBE +I'll write it straight; +The matter's in my head and in my heart: +I will be bitter with him and passing short. +Go with me, Silvius. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES +JAQUES +I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted +with thee. + +ROSALIND +They say you are a melancholy fellow. + +JAQUES +I am so; I do love it better than laughing. + +ROSALIND +Those that are in extremity of either are abominable +fellows and betray themselves to every modern +censure worse than drunkards. + +JAQUES +Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. + +ROSALIND +Why then, 'tis good to be a post. + +JAQUES +I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is +emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical, +nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the +soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, +which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor +the lover's, which is all these: but it is a +melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, +extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's +contemplation of my travels, in which my often +rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness. + +ROSALIND +A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to +be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see +other men's; then, to have seen much and to have +nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. + +JAQUES +Yes, I have gained my experience. + +ROSALIND +And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have +a fool to make me merry than experience to make me +sad; and to travel for it too! + +Enter ORLANDO + +ORLANDO +Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! + +JAQUES +Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and +wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your +own country, be out of love with your nativity and +almost chide God for making you that countenance you +are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a +gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been +all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such +another trick, never come in my sight more. + +ORLANDO +My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. + +ROSALIND +Break an hour's promise in love! He that will +divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but +a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the +affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid +hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant +him heart-whole. + +ORLANDO +Pardon me, dear Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I +had as lief be wooed of a snail. + +ORLANDO +Of a snail? + +ROSALIND +Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he +carries his house on his head; a better jointure, +I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings +his destiny with him. + +ORLANDO +What's that? + +ROSALIND +Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be +beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in +his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife. + +ORLANDO +Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. + +ROSALIND +And I am your Rosalind. + +CELIA +It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a +Rosalind of a better leer than you. + +ROSALIND +Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday +humour and like enough to consent. What would you +say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I would kiss before I spoke. + +ROSALIND +Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were +gravelled for lack of matter, you might take +occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are +out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking--God +warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. + +ORLANDO +How if the kiss be denied? + +ROSALIND +Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. + +ORLANDO +Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? + +ROSALIND +Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or +I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. + +ORLANDO +What, of my suit? + +ROSALIND +Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. +Am not I your Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I take some joy to say you are, because I would be +talking of her. + +ROSALIND +Well in her person I say I will not have you. + +ORLANDO +Then in mine own person I die. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is +almost six thousand years old, and in all this time +there was not any man died in his own person, +videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains +dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he +could to die before, and he is one of the patterns +of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair +year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been +for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went +but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being +taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish +coroners of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos.' +But these are all lies: men have died from time to +time and worms have eaten them, but not for love. + +ORLANDO +I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, +for, I protest, her frown might kill me. + +ROSALIND +By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now +I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on +disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant +it. + +ORLANDO +Then love me, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all. + +ORLANDO +And wilt thou have me? + +ROSALIND +Ay, and twenty such. + +ORLANDO +What sayest thou? + +ROSALIND +Are you not good? + +ORLANDO +I hope so. + +ROSALIND +Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? +Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. +Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister? + +ORLANDO +Pray thee, marry us. + +CELIA +I cannot say the words. + +ROSALIND +You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--' + +CELIA +Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I will. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but when? + +ORLANDO +Why now; as fast as she can marry us. + +ROSALIND +Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.' + +ORLANDO +I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. + +ROSALIND +I might ask you for your commission; but I do take +thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes +before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought +runs before her actions. + +ORLANDO +So do all thoughts; they are winged. + +ROSALIND +Now tell me how long you would have her after you +have possessed her. + +ORLANDO +For ever and a day. + +ROSALIND +Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; +men are April when they woo, December when they wed: +maids are May when they are maids, but the sky +changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous +of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, +more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more +new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires +than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana +in the fountain, and I will do that when you are +disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and +that when thou art inclined to sleep. + +ORLANDO +But will my Rosalind do so? + +ROSALIND +By my life, she will do as I do. + +ORLANDO +O, but she is wise. + +ROSALIND +Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the +wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's +wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and +'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly +with the smoke out at the chimney. + +ORLANDO +A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say +'Wit, whither wilt?' + +ROSALIND +Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met +your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. + +ORLANDO +And what wit could wit have to excuse that? + +ROSALIND +Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall +never take her without her answer, unless you take +her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot +make her fault her husband's occasion, let her +never nurse her child herself, for she will breed +it like a fool! + +ORLANDO +For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. + +ROSALIND +Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. + +ORLANDO +I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I +will be with thee again. + +ROSALIND +Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you +would prove: my friends told me as much, and I +thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours +won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come, +death! Two o'clock is your hour? + +ORLANDO +Ay, sweet Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend +me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, +if you break one jot of your promise or come one +minute behind your hour, I will think you the most +pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover +and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that +may be chosen out of the gross band of the +unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep +your promise. + +ORLANDO +With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my +Rosalind: so adieu. + +ROSALIND +Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such +offenders, and let Time try: adieu. + +Exit ORLANDO + +CELIA +You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate: +we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your +head, and show the world what the bird hath done to +her own nest. + +ROSALIND +O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou +didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But +it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown +bottom, like the bay of Portugal. + +CELIA +Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour +affection in, it runs out. + +ROSALIND +No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot +of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness, +that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes +because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I +am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out +of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and +sigh till he come. + +CELIA +And I'll sleep. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters +JAQUES +Which is he that killed the deer? + +A Lord +Sir, it was I. + +JAQUES +Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman +conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's +horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have +you no song, forester, for this purpose? + +Forester +Yes, sir. + +JAQUES +Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it +make noise enough. +SONG. + +Forester +What shall he have that kill'd the deer? +His leather skin and horns to wear. +Then sing him home; + +The rest shall bear this burden + +Take thou no scorn to wear the horn; +It was a crest ere thou wast born: +Thy father's father wore it, +And thy father bore it: +The horn, the horn, the lusty horn +Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and +here much Orlando! + +CELIA +I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he +hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to +sleep. Look, who comes here. + +Enter SILVIUS + +SILVIUS +My errand is to you, fair youth; +My gentle Phebe bid me give you this: +I know not the contents; but, as I guess +By the stern brow and waspish action +Which she did use as she was writing of it, +It bears an angry tenor: pardon me: +I am but as a guiltless messenger. + +ROSALIND +Patience herself would startle at this letter +And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: +She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; +She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, +Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will! +Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: +Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, +This is a letter of your own device. + +SILVIUS +No, I protest, I know not the contents: +Phebe did write it. + +ROSALIND +Come, come, you are a fool +And turn'd into the extremity of love. +I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand. +A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think +That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands: +She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter: +I say she never did invent this letter; +This is a man's invention and his hand. + +SILVIUS +Sure, it is hers. + +ROSALIND +Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style. +A style for-challengers; why, she defies me, +Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain +Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention +Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect +Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter? + +SILVIUS +So please you, for I never heard it yet; +Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. + +ROSALIND +She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. + +Reads + +Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, +That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? +Can a woman rail thus? + +SILVIUS +Call you this railing? + +ROSALIND +[Reads] +Why, thy godhead laid apart, +Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? +Did you ever hear such railing? +Whiles the eye of man did woo me, +That could do no vengeance to me. +Meaning me a beast. +If the scorn of your bright eyne +Have power to raise such love in mine, +Alack, in me what strange effect +Would they work in mild aspect! +Whiles you chid me, I did love; +How then might your prayers move! +He that brings this love to thee +Little knows this love in me: +And by him seal up thy mind; +Whether that thy youth and kind +Will the faithful offer take +Of me and all that I can make; +Or else by him my love deny, +And then I'll study how to die. + +SILVIUS +Call you this chiding? + +CELIA +Alas, poor shepherd! + +ROSALIND +Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt +thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an +instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to +be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see +love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to +her: that if she love me, I charge her to love +thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless +thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, +hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. + +Exit SILVIUS + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, +Where in the purlieus of this forest stands +A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees? + +CELIA +West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom: +The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream +Left on your right hand brings you to the place. +But at this hour the house doth keep itself; +There's none within. + +OLIVER +If that an eye may profit by a tongue, +Then should I know you by description; +Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair, +Of female favour, and bestows himself +Like a ripe sister: the woman low +And browner than her brother.' Are not you +The owner of the house I did inquire for? + +CELIA +It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are. + +OLIVER +Orlando doth commend him to you both, +And to that youth he calls his Rosalind +He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? + +ROSALIND +I am: what must we understand by this? + +OLIVER +Some of my shame; if you will know of me +What man I am, and how, and why, and where +This handkercher was stain'd. + +CELIA +I pray you, tell it. + +OLIVER +When last the young Orlando parted from you +He left a promise to return again +Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, +Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, +Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside, +And mark what object did present itself: +Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age +And high top bald with dry antiquity, +A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, +Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck +A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, +Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd +The opening of his mouth; but suddenly, +Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, +And with indented glides did slip away +Into a bush: under which bush's shade +A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, +Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, +When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis +The royal disposition of that beast +To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: +This seen, Orlando did approach the man +And found it was his brother, his elder brother. + +CELIA +O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; +And he did render him the most unnatural +That lived amongst men. + +OLIVER +And well he might so do, +For well I know he was unnatural. + +ROSALIND +But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, +Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? + +OLIVER +Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; +But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, +And nature, stronger than his just occasion, +Made him give battle to the lioness, +Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling +From miserable slumber I awaked. + +CELIA +Are you his brother? + +ROSALIND +Wast you he rescued? + +CELIA +Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? + +OLIVER +'Twas I; but 'tis not I I do not shame +To tell you what I was, since my conversion +So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. + +ROSALIND +But, for the bloody napkin? + +OLIVER +By and by. +When from the first to last betwixt us two +Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, +As how I came into that desert place:-- +In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, +Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, +Committing me unto my brother's love; +Who led me instantly unto his cave, +There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm +The lioness had torn some flesh away, +Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted +And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. +Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound; +And, after some small space, being strong at heart, +He sent me hither, stranger as I am, +To tell this story, that you might excuse +His broken promise, and to give this napkin +Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth +That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. + +ROSALIND swoons + +CELIA +Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Many will swoon when they do look on blood. + +CELIA +There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Look, he recovers. + +ROSALIND +I would I were at home. + +CELIA +We'll lead you thither. +I pray you, will you take him by the arm? + +OLIVER +Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a +man's heart. + +ROSALIND +I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would +think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell +your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho! + +OLIVER +This was not counterfeit: there is too great +testimony in your complexion that it was a passion +of earnest. + +ROSALIND +Counterfeit, I assure you. + +OLIVER +Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man. + +ROSALIND +So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. + +CELIA +Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw +homewards. Good sir, go with us. + +OLIVER +That will I, for I must bear answer back +How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend +my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. + +AUDREY +Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old +gentleman's saying. + +TOUCHSTONE +A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile +Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the +forest lays claim to you. + +AUDREY +Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in +the world: here comes the man you mean. + +TOUCHSTONE +It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my +troth, we that have good wits have much to answer +for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. + +Enter WILLIAM + +WILLIAM +Good even, Audrey. + +AUDREY +God ye good even, William. + +WILLIAM +And good even to you, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy +head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend? + +WILLIAM +Five and twenty, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A ripe age. Is thy name William? + +WILLIAM +William, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I thank God. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich? + +WILLIAM +Faith, sir, so so. + +TOUCHSTONE +'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and +yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying, +'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man +knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen +philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, +would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; +meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and +lips to open. You do love this maid? + +WILLIAM +I do, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +WILLIAM +No, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it +is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out +of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty +the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse +is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he. + +WILLIAM +Which he, sir? + +TOUCHSTONE +He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you +clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the +society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this +female,--which in the common is woman; which +together is, abandon the society of this female, or, +clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better +understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make +thee away, translate thy life into death, thy +liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with +thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy +with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with +policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: +therefore tremble and depart. + +AUDREY +Do, good William. + +WILLIAM +God rest you merry, sir. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away! + +TOUCHSTONE +Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER +ORLANDO +Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you +should like her? that but seeing you should love +her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should +grant? and will you persever to enjoy her? + +OLIVER +Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the +poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden +wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, +I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me; +consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it +shall be to your good; for my father's house and all +the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I +estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd. + +ORLANDO +You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: +thither will I invite the duke and all's contented +followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look +you, here comes my Rosalind. + +Enter ROSALIND + +ROSALIND +God save you, brother. + +OLIVER +And you, fair sister. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee +wear thy heart in a scarf! + +ORLANDO +It is my arm. + +ROSALIND +I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws +of a lion. + +ORLANDO +Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. + +ROSALIND +Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to +swoon when he showed me your handkerchief? + +ORLANDO +Ay, and greater wonders than that. + +ROSALIND +O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was +never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams +and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and +overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner +met but they looked, no sooner looked but they +loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner +sighed but they asked one another the reason, no +sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; +and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs +to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or +else be incontinent before marriage: they are in +the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs +cannot part them. + +ORLANDO +They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the +duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it +is to look into happiness through another man's +eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at +the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall +think my brother happy in having what he wishes for. + +ROSALIND +Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I can live no longer by thinking. + +ROSALIND +I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. +Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose, +that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I +speak not this that you should bear a good opinion +of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are; +neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in +some little measure draw a belief from you, to do +yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if +you please, that I can do strange things: I have, +since I was three year old, conversed with a +magician, most profound in his art and yet not +damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart +as your gesture cries it out, when your brother +marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into +what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is +not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient +to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human +as she is and without any danger. + +ORLANDO +Speakest thou in sober meanings? + +ROSALIND +By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I +say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your +best array: bid your friends; for if you will be +married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE + +Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. + +PHEBE +Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, +To show the letter that I writ to you. + +ROSALIND +I care not if I have: it is my study +To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: +You are there followed by a faithful shepherd; +Look upon him, love him; he worships you. + +PHEBE +Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of sighs and tears; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of faith and service; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of fantasy, +All made of passion and all made of wishes, +All adoration, duty, and observance, +All humbleness, all patience and impatience, +All purity, all trial, all observance; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And so am I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And so am I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And so am I for no woman. + +PHEBE +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +SILVIUS +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ORLANDO +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ROSALIND +Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?' + +ORLANDO +To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. + +ROSALIND +Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling +of Irish wolves against the moon. + +To SILVIUS + +I will help you, if I can: + +To PHEBE + +I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together. + +To PHEBE + +I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be +married to-morrow: + +To ORLANDO + +I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you +shall be married to-morrow: + +To SILVIUS + +I will content you, if what pleases you contents +you, and you shall be married to-morrow. + +To ORLANDO + +As you love Rosalind, meet: + +To SILVIUS + +as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman, +I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands. + +SILVIUS +I'll not fail, if I live. + +PHEBE +Nor I. + +ORLANDO +Nor I. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will +we be married. + +AUDREY +I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is +no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the +world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages. + +Enter two Pages + +First Page +Well met, honest gentleman. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song. + +Second Page +We are for you: sit i' the middle. + +First Page +Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or +spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only +prologues to a bad voice? + +Second Page +I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two +gipsies on a horse. +SONG. +It was a lover and his lass, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +That o'er the green corn-field did pass +In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, +When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: +Sweet lovers love the spring. +Between the acres of the rye, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino +These pretty country folks would lie, +In spring time, & c. +This carol they began that hour, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +How that a life was but a flower +In spring time, & c. +And therefore take the present time, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; +For love is crowned with the prime +In spring time, & c. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great +matter in the ditty, yet the note was very +untuneable. + +First Page +You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear +such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend +your voices! Come, Audrey. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA +DUKE SENIOR +Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy +Can do all this that he hath promised? + +ORLANDO +I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; +As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. + +Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE + +ROSALIND +Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged: +You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, +You will bestow her on Orlando here? + +DUKE SENIOR +That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. + +ROSALIND +And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? + +ORLANDO +That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. + +ROSALIND +You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? + +PHEBE +That will I, should I die the hour after. + +ROSALIND +But if you do refuse to marry me, +You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? + +PHEBE +So is the bargain. + +ROSALIND +You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? + +SILVIUS +Though to have her and death were both one thing. + +ROSALIND +I have promised to make all this matter even. +Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter; +You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter: +Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, +Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd: +Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her. +If she refuse me: and from hence I go, +To make these doubts all even. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +DUKE SENIOR +I do remember in this shepherd boy +Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. + +ORLANDO +My lord, the first time that I ever saw him +Methought he was a brother to your daughter: +But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, +And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments +Of many desperate studies by his uncle, +Whom he reports to be a great magician, +Obscured in the circle of this forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +JAQUES +There is, sure, another flood toward, and these +couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of +very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. + +TOUCHSTONE +Salutation and greeting to you all! + +JAQUES +Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the +motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in +the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears. + +TOUCHSTONE +If any man doubt that, let him put me to my +purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered +a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth +with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have +had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. + +JAQUES +And how was that ta'en up? + +TOUCHSTONE +Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the +seventh cause. + +JAQUES +How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow. + +DUKE SENIOR +I like him very well. + +TOUCHSTONE +God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I +press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country +copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as +marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin, +sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor +humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else +will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a +poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. + +DUKE SENIOR +By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. + +TOUCHSTONE +According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. + +JAQUES +But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the +quarrel on the seventh cause? + +TOUCHSTONE +Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more +seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the +cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, +if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the +mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous. +If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he +would send me word, he cut it to please himself: +this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was +not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is +called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this +is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the +Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie +Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. + +JAQUES +And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut? + +TOUCHSTONE +I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, +nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we +measured swords and parted. + +JAQUES +Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? + +TOUCHSTONE +O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have +books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. +The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the +Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the +fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the +Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with +Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All +these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may +avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven +justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the +parties were met themselves, one of them thought but +of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and +they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the +only peacemaker; much virtue in If. + +JAQUES +Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at +any thing and yet a fool. + +DUKE SENIOR +He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under +the presentation of that he shoots his wit. + +Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA + +Still Music + +HYMEN +Then is there mirth in heaven, +When earthly things made even +Atone together. +Good duke, receive thy daughter +Hymen from heaven brought her, +Yea, brought her hither, +That thou mightst join her hand with his +Whose heart within his bosom is. + +ROSALIND +[To DUKE SENIOR] To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +To ORLANDO + +To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +DUKE SENIOR +If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. + +ORLANDO +If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. + +PHEBE +If sight and shape be true, +Why then, my love adieu! + +ROSALIND +I'll have no father, if you be not he: +I'll have no husband, if you be not he: +Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. + +HYMEN +Peace, ho! I bar confusion: +'Tis I must make conclusion +Of these most strange events: +Here's eight that must take hands +To join in Hymen's bands, +If truth holds true contents. +You and you no cross shall part: +You and you are heart in heart +You to his love must accord, +Or have a woman to your lord: +You and you are sure together, +As the winter to foul weather. +Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, +Feed yourselves with questioning; +That reason wonder may diminish, +How thus we met, and these things finish. +SONG. +Wedding is great Juno's crown: +O blessed bond of board and bed! +'Tis Hymen peoples every town; +High wedlock then be honoured: +Honour, high honour and renown, +To Hymen, god of every town! + +DUKE SENIOR +O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me! +Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree. + +PHEBE +I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; +Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. + +Enter JAQUES DE BOYS + +JAQUES DE BOYS +Let me have audience for a word or two: +I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, +That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. +Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day +Men of great worth resorted to this forest, +Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot, +In his own conduct, purposely to take +His brother here and put him to the sword: +And to the skirts of this wild wood he came; +Where meeting with an old religious man, +After some question with him, was converted +Both from his enterprise and from the world, +His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, +And all their lands restored to them again +That were with him exiled. This to be true, +I do engage my life. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome, young man; +Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: +To one his lands withheld, and to the other +A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. +First, in this forest, let us do those ends +That here were well begun and well begot: +And after, every of this happy number +That have endured shrewd days and nights with us +Shall share the good of our returned fortune, +According to the measure of their states. +Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity +And fall into our rustic revelry. +Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, +With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall. + +JAQUES +Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly, +The duke hath put on a religious life +And thrown into neglect the pompous court? + +JAQUES DE BOYS +He hath. + +JAQUES +To him will I : out of these convertites +There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. + +To DUKE SENIOR + +You to your former honour I bequeath; +Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: + +To ORLANDO + +You to a love that your true faith doth merit: + +To OLIVER + +You to your land and love and great allies: + +To SILVIUS + +You to a long and well-deserved bed: + +To TOUCHSTONE + +And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage +Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures: +I am for other than for dancing measures. + +DUKE SENIOR +Stay, Jaques, stay. + +JAQUES +To see no pastime I what you would have +I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, +As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. + +A dance + +EPILOGUE + +ROSALIND +It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; +but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord +the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs +no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no +epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, +and good plays prove the better by the help of good +epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am +neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with +you in the behalf of a good play! I am not +furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not +become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin +with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love +you bear to men, to like as much of this play as +please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love +you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering, +none of you hates them--that between you and the +women the play may please. If I were a woman I +would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased +me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I +defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good +beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my +kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. + +Exeunt +The Comedy of Errors +Shakespeare homepage | Comedy of Errors | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace. + +Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants +AEGEON +Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall +And by the doom of death end woes and all. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more; +I am not partial to infringe our laws: +The enmity and discord which of late +Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke +To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, +Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives +Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, +Excludes all pity from our threatening looks. +For, since the mortal and intestine jars +'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, +It hath in solemn synods been decreed +Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, +To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more, +If any born at Ephesus be seen +At any Syracusian marts and fairs; +Again: if any Syracusian born +Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, +His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose, +Unless a thousand marks be levied, +To quit the penalty and to ransom him. +Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, +Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; +Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. + +AEGEON +Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, +My woes end likewise with the evening sun. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause +Why thou departed'st from thy native home +And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus. + +AEGEON +A heavier task could not have been imposed +Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: +Yet, that the world may witness that my end +Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, +I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave. +In Syracusa was I born, and wed +Unto a woman, happy but for me, +And by me, had not our hap been bad. +With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased +By prosperous voyages I often made +To Epidamnum; till my factor's death +And the great care of goods at random left +Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse: +From whom my absence was not six months old +Before herself, almost at fainting under +The pleasing punishment that women bear, +Had made provision for her following me +And soon and safe arrived where I was. +There had she not been long, but she became +A joyful mother of two goodly sons; +And, which was strange, the one so like the other, +As could not be distinguish'd but by names. +That very hour, and in the self-same inn, +A meaner woman was delivered +Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: +Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,-- +I bought and brought up to attend my sons. +My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, +Made daily motions for our home return: +Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon, +We came aboard. +A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, +Before the always wind-obeying deep +Gave any tragic instance of our harm: +But longer did we not retain much hope; +For what obscured light the heavens did grant +Did but convey unto our fearful minds +A doubtful warrant of immediate death; +Which though myself would gladly have embraced, +Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, +Weeping before for what she saw must come, +And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, +That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, +Forced me to seek delays for them and me. +And this it was, for other means was none: +The sailors sought for safety by our boat, +And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us: +My wife, more careful for the latter-born, +Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, +Such as seafaring men provide for storms; +To him one of the other twins was bound, +Whilst I had been like heedful of the other: +The children thus disposed, my wife and I, +Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, +Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast; +And floating straight, obedient to the stream, +Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. +At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, +Dispersed those vapours that offended us; +And by the benefit of his wished light, +The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered +Two ships from far making amain to us, +Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: +But ere they came,--O, let me say no more! +Gather the sequel by that went before. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so; +For we may pity, though not pardon thee. + +AEGEON +O, had the gods done so, I had not now +Worthily term'd them merciless to us! +For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, +We were encounterd by a mighty rock; +Which being violently borne upon, +Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; +So that, in this unjust divorce of us, +Fortune had left to both of us alike +What to delight in, what to sorrow for. +Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened +With lesser weight but not with lesser woe, +Was carried with more speed before the wind; +And in our sight they three were taken up +By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. +At length, another ship had seized on us; +And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, +Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests; +And would have reft the fishers of their prey, +Had not their bark been very slow of sail; +And therefore homeward did they bend their course. +Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; +That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, +To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. + +DUKE SOLINUS +And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, +Do me the favour to dilate at full +What hath befall'n of them and thee till now. + +AEGEON +My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, +At eighteen years became inquisitive +After his brother: and importuned me +That his attendant--so his case was like, +Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name-- +Might bear him company in the quest of him: +Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, +I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. +Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, +Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, +And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; +Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought +Or that or any place that harbours men. +But here must end the story of my life; +And happy were I in my timely death, +Could all my travels warrant me they live. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd +To bear the extremity of dire mishap! +Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, +Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, +Which princes, would they, may not disannul, +My soul would sue as advocate for thee. +But, though thou art adjudged to the death +And passed sentence may not be recall'd +But to our honour's great disparagement, +Yet I will favour thee in what I can. +Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day +To seek thy life by beneficial help: +Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; +Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, +And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die. +Gaoler, take him to thy custody. + +Gaoler +I will, my lord. + +AEGEON +Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend, +But to procrastinate his lifeless end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Mart. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant +First Merchant +Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, +Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. +This very day a Syracusian merchant +Is apprehended for arrival here; +And not being able to buy out his life +According to the statute of the town, +Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. +There is your money that I had to keep. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, +And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. +Within this hour it will be dinner-time: +Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, +Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, +And then return and sleep within mine inn, +For with long travel I am stiff and weary. +Get thee away. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Many a man would take you at your word, +And go indeed, having so good a mean. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, +When I am dull with care and melancholy, +Lightens my humour with his merry jests. +What, will you walk with me about the town, +And then go to my inn and dine with me? + +First Merchant +I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, +Of whom I hope to make much benefit; +I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, +Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart +And afterward consort you till bed-time: +My present business calls me from you now. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Farewell till then: I will go lose myself +And wander up and down to view the city. + +First Merchant +Sir, I commend you to your own content. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +He that commends me to mine own content +Commends me to the thing I cannot get. +I to the world am like a drop of water +That in the ocean seeks another drop, +Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, +Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: +So I, to find a mother and a brother, +In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +Here comes the almanac of my true date. +What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late: +The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, +The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; +My mistress made it one upon my cheek: +She is so hot because the meat is cold; +The meat is cold because you come not home; +You come not home because you have no stomach; +You have no stomach having broke your fast; +But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray +Are penitent for your default to-day. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: +Where have you left the money that I gave you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last +To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? +The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I am not in a sportive humour now: +Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? +We being strangers here, how darest thou trust +So great a charge from thine own custody? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner: +I from my mistress come to you in post; +If I return, I shall be post indeed, +For she will score your fault upon my pate. +Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock, +And strike you home without a messenger. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; +Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. +Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, +And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +My charge was but to fetch you from the mart +Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: +My mistress and her sister stays for you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, +Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours +That stands on tricks when I am undisposed: +Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I have some marks of yours upon my pate, +Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, +But not a thousand marks between you both. +If I should pay your worship those again, +Perchance you will not bear them patiently. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; +She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, +And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, +Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! +Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Upon my life, by some device or other +The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. +They say this town is full of cozenage, +As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, +Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, +Soul-killing witches that deform the body, +Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, +And many such-like liberties of sin: +If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. +I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: +I greatly fear my money is not safe. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA +ADRIANA +Neither my husband nor the slave return'd, +That in such haste I sent to seek his master! +Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. + +LUCIANA +Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, +And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. +Good sister, let us dine and never fret: +A man is master of his liberty: +Time is their master, and, when they see time, +They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister. + +ADRIANA +Why should their liberty than ours be more? + +LUCIANA +Because their business still lies out o' door. + +ADRIANA +Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. + +LUCIANA +O, know he is the bridle of your will. + +ADRIANA +There's none but asses will be bridled so. + +LUCIANA +Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. +There's nothing situate under heaven's eye +But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: +The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, +Are their males' subjects and at their controls: +Men, more divine, the masters of all these, +Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, +Indued with intellectual sense and souls, +Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, +Are masters to their females, and their lords: +Then let your will attend on their accords. + +ADRIANA +This servitude makes you to keep unwed. + +LUCIANA +Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. + +ADRIANA +But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. + +LUCIANA +Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. + +ADRIANA +How if your husband start some other where? + +LUCIANA +Till he come home again, I would forbear. + +ADRIANA +Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; +They can be meek that have no other cause. +A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, +We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; +But were we burdened with like weight of pain, +As much or more would we ourselves complain: +So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, +With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, +But, if thou live to see like right bereft, +This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. + +LUCIANA +Well, I will marry one day, but to try. +Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +ADRIANA +Say, is your tardy master now at hand? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears +can witness. + +ADRIANA +Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: +Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. + +LUCIANA +Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his +blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce +understand them. + +ADRIANA +But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he +hath great care to please his wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. + +ADRIANA +Horn-mad, thou villain! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I mean not cuckold-mad; +But, sure, he is stark mad. +When I desired him to come home to dinner, +He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: +''Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he; +'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he: +'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he. +'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?' +'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he: +'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress! +I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!' + +LUCIANA +Quoth who? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Quoth my master: +'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' +So that my errand, due unto my tongue, +I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; +For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. + +ADRIANA +Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Go back again, and be new beaten home? +For God's sake, send some other messenger. + +ADRIANA +Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And he will bless that cross with other beating: +Between you I shall have a holy head. + +ADRIANA +Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Am I so round with you as you with me, +That like a football you do spurn me thus? +You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: +If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. + +Exit + +LUCIANA +Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! + +ADRIANA +His company must do his minions grace, +Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. +Hath homely age the alluring beauty took +From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: +Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? +If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, +Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard: +Do their gay vestments his affections bait? +That's not my fault: he's master of my state: +What ruins are in me that can be found, +By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground +Of my defeatures. My decayed fair +A sunny look of his would soon repair +But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale +And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. + +LUCIANA +Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence! + +ADRIANA +Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. +I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, +Or else what lets it but he would be here? +Sister, you know he promised me a chain; +Would that alone, alone he would detain, +So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! +I see the jewel best enamelled +Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, +That others touch, and often touching will +Wear gold: and no man that hath a name, +By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. +Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, +I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. + +LUCIANA +How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up +Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave +Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out +By computation and mine host's report. +I could not speak with Dromio since at first +I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. + +Enter DROMIO of Syracuse + +How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd? +As you love strokes, so jest with me again. +You know no Centaur? you received no gold? +Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? +My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, +That thus so madly thou didst answer me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Even now, even here, not half an hour since. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I did not see you since you sent me hence, +Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, +And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; +For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am glad to see you in this merry vein: +What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? +Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. + +Beating him + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest: +Upon what bargain do you give it me? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Because that I familiarly sometimes +Do use you for my fool and chat with you, +Your sauciness will jest upon my love +And make a common of my serious hours. +When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, +But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. +If you will jest with me, know my aspect, +And fashion your demeanor to my looks, +Or I will beat this method in your sconce. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I +had rather have it a head: an you use these blows +long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce +it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. +But, I pray, sir why am I beaten? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Dost thou not know? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Shall I tell you why? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath +a wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore-- +For urging it the second time to me. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, +When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme +nor reason? +Well, sir, I thank you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thank me, sir, for what? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for +something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In good time, sir; what's that? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Your reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another +dry basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By what rule, sir? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald +pate of father Time himself. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Let's hear it. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +There's no time for a man to recover his hair that +grows bald by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +May he not do it by fine and recovery? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the +lost hair of another man. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, +so plentiful an excrement? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; +and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth +it in a kind of jollity. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +For what reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +For two; and sound ones too. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sound, I pray you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sure ones, then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Certain ones then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Name them. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The one, to save the money that he spends in +trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not +drop in his porridge. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +You would all this time have proved there is no +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair +lost by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +But your reason was not substantial, why there is no +time to recover. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore +to the world's end will have bald followers. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: +But, soft! who wafts us yonder? + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA + +ADRIANA +Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown: +Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects; +I am not Adriana nor thy wife. +The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow +That never words were music to thine ear, +That never object pleasing in thine eye, +That never touch well welcome to thy hand, +That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste, +Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee. +How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it, +That thou art thus estranged from thyself? +Thyself I call it, being strange to me, +That, undividable, incorporate, +Am better than thy dear self's better part. +Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! +For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall +A drop of water in the breaking gulf, +And take unmingled that same drop again, +Without addition or diminishing, +As take from me thyself and not me too. +How dearly would it touch me to the quick, +Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious +And that this body, consecrate to thee, +By ruffian lust should be contaminate! +Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me +And hurl the name of husband in my face +And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow +And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring +And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? +I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it. +I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; +My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: +For if we too be one and thou play false, +I do digest the poison of thy flesh, +Being strumpeted by thy contagion. +Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed; +I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: +In Ephesus I am but two hours old, +As strange unto your town as to your talk; +Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, +Want wit in all one word to understand. + +LUCIANA +Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you! +When were you wont to use my sister thus? +She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +By me? + +ADRIANA +By thee; and this thou didst return from him, +That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, +Denied my house for his, me for his wife. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? +What is the course and drift of your compact? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir? I never saw her till this time. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou liest; for even her very words +Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I never spake with her in all my life. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +How can she thus then call us by our names, +Unless it be by inspiration. + +ADRIANA +How ill agrees it with your gravity +To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, +Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! +Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, +But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. +Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: +Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, +Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, +Makes me with thy strength to communicate: +If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, +Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; +Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion +Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: +What, was I married to her in my dream? +Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? +What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? +Until I know this sure uncertainty, +I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. + +LUCIANA +Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. +This is the fairy land: O spite of spites! +We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: +If we obey them not, this will ensue, +They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. + +LUCIANA +Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? +Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am transformed, master, am I not? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I think thou art in mind, and so am I. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thou hast thine own form. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, I am an ape. + +LUCIANA +If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass. +'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be +But I should know her as well as she knows me. + +ADRIANA +Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, +To put the finger in the eye and weep, +Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. +Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. +Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day +And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. +Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, +Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. +Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? +Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? +Known unto these, and to myself disguised! +I'll say as they say and persever so, +And in this mist at all adventures go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, shall I be porter at the gate? + +ADRIANA +Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. + +LUCIANA +Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; +My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: +Say that I linger'd with you at your shop +To see the making of her carcanet, +And that to-morrow you will bring it home. +But here's a villain that would face me down +He met me on the mart, and that I beat him, +And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, +And that I did deny my wife and house. +Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know; +That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: +If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, +Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +I think thou art an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Marry, so it doth appear +By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. +I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass, +You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer +May answer my good will and your good welcome here. + +BALTHAZAR +I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your +welcome dear. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, +A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish. + +BALTHAZAR +Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. + +BALTHAZAR +Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: +But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; +Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. +But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, +idiot, patch! +Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch. +Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st +for such store, +When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What patch is made our porter? My master stays in +the street. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he +catch cold on's feet. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Who talks within there? ho, open the door! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell +me wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Nor to-day here you must not; come again +when you may. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] The porter for this time, sir, and my name +is Dromio. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name. +The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. +If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, +Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy +name for an ass. + +LUCE +[Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those +at the gate? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Let my master in, Luce. + +LUCE +[Within] Faith, no; he comes too late; +And so tell your master. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O Lord, I must laugh! +Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff? + +LUCE +[Within] Have at you with another; that's--When? +can you tell? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast +answered him well. + +ANTIPHOLUS +Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? +OF EPHESUS + +LUCE +[Within] I thought to have asked you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] And you said no. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Thou baggage, let me in. + +LUCE +[Within] Can you tell for whose sake? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, knock the door hard. + +LUCE +[Within] Let him knock till it ache. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. + +LUCE +[Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? + +ADRIANA +[Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all +this noise? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with +unruly boys. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Are you there, wife? you might have come before. + +ADRIANA +[Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore. + +ANGELO +Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would +fain have either. + +BALTHAZAR +In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. +Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: +It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your +knave's pate. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind, +Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon +thee, hind! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee, +let me in. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? +For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather; +If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. + +BALTHAZAR +Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so! +Herein you war against your reputation +And draw within the compass of suspect +The unviolated honour of your wife. +Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom, +Her sober virtue, years and modesty, +Plead on her part some cause to you unknown: +And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse +Why at this time the doors are made against you. +Be ruled by me: depart in patience, +And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, +And about evening come yourself alone +To know the reason of this strange restraint. +If by strong hand you offer to break in +Now in the stirring passage of the day, +A vulgar comment will be made of it, +And that supposed by the common rout +Against your yet ungalled estimation +That may with foul intrusion enter in +And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; +For slander lives upon succession, +For ever housed where it gets possession. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet, +And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. +I know a wench of excellent discourse, +Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle: +There will we dine. This woman that I mean, +My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- +Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal: +To her will we to dinner. + +To Angelo + +Get you home +And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made: +Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine; +For there's the house: that chain will I bestow-- +Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-- +Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste. +Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, +I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. + +The First part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others +KING HENRY IV +So shaken as we are, so wan with care, +Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, +And breathe short-winded accents of new broils +To be commenced in strands afar remote. +No more the thirsty entrance of this soil +Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; +Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, +Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs +Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, +Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, +All of one nature, of one substance bred, +Did lately meet in the intestine shock +And furious close of civil butchery +Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, +March all one way and be no more opposed +Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: +The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, +No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, +As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, +Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross +We are impressed and engaged to fight, +Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; +Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb +To chase these pagans in those holy fields +Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet +Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd +For our advantage on the bitter cross. +But this our purpose now is twelve month old, +And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: +Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear +Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, +What yesternight our council did decree +In forwarding this dear expedience. + +WESTMORELAND +My liege, this haste was hot in question, +And many limits of the charge set down +But yesternight: when all athwart there came +A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; +Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, +Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight +Against the irregular and wild Glendower, +Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, +A thousand of his people butchered; +Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, +Such beastly shameless transformation, +By those Welshwomen done as may not be +Without much shame retold or spoken of. + +KING HENRY IV +It seems then that the tidings of this broil +Brake off our business for the Holy Land. + +WESTMORELAND +This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; +For more uneven and unwelcome news +Came from the north and thus it did import: +On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there, +Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald, +That ever-valiant and approved Scot, +At Holmedon met, +Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour, +As by discharge of their artillery, +And shape of likelihood, the news was told; +For he that brought them, in the very heat +And pride of their contention did take horse, +Uncertain of the issue any way. + +KING HENRY IV +Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, +Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse. +Stain'd with the variation of each soil +Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; +And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. +The Earl of Douglas is discomfited: +Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, +Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see +On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took +Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son +To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, +Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith: +And is not this an honourable spoil? +A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? + +WESTMORELAND +In faith, +It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. + +KING HENRY IV +Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin +In envy that my Lord Northumberland +Should be the father to so blest a son, +A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; +Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; +Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: +Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, +See riot and dishonour stain the brow +Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved +That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged +In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, +And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! +Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. +But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, +Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, +Which he in this adventure hath surprised, +To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, +I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. + +WESTMORELAND +This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester, +Malevolent to you in all aspects; +Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up +The crest of youth against your dignity. + +KING HENRY IV +But I have sent for him to answer this; +And for this cause awhile we must neglect +Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. +Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we +Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: +But come yourself with speed to us again; +For more is to be said and to be done +Than out of anger can be uttered. + +WESTMORELAND +I will, my liege. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. + +Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF +FALSTAFF +Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack +and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon +benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to +demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. +What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the +day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes +capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the +signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself +a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no +reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand +the time of the day. + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take +purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not +by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And, +I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God +save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace +thou wilt have none,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, none? + +FALSTAFF +No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to +prologue to an egg and butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. + +FALSTAFF +Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not +us that are squires of the night's body be called +thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's +foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the +moon; and let men say we be men of good government, +being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and +chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the +fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and +flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, +by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold +most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most +dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with +swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;' +now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder +and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my +hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? + +PRINCE HENRY +As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And +is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? + +FALSTAFF +How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and +thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a +buff jerkin? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a +time and oft. + +PRINCE HENRY +Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? + +FALSTAFF +No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; +and where it would not, I have used my credit. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent +that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet +wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when +thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is +with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do +not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. + +PRINCE HENRY +No; thou shalt. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have +the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. + +FALSTAFF +Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my +humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell +you. + +PRINCE HENRY +For obtaining of suits? + +FALSTAFF +Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman +hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy +as a gib cat or a lugged bear. + +PRINCE HENRY +Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. + +PRINCE HENRY +What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of +Moor-ditch? + +FALSTAFF +Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed +the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young +prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more +with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a +commodity of good names were to be bought. An old +lord of the council rated me the other day in the +street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet +he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and +yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the +streets, and no man regards it. + +FALSTAFF +O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able +to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon +me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew +thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man +should speak truly, little better than one of the +wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give +it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: +I'll be damned for never a king's son in +Christendom. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I +do not, call me villain and baffle me. + +PRINCE HENRY +I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying +to purse-taking. + +FALSTAFF +Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a +man to labour in his vocation. + +Enter POINS + +Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a +match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what +hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the +most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to +a true man. + +PRINCE HENRY +Good morrow, Ned. + +POINS +Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? +what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how +agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou +soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira +and a cold capon's leg? + +PRINCE HENRY +Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have +his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of +proverbs: he will give the devil his due. + +POINS +Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. + +PRINCE HENRY +Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. + +POINS +But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four +o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going +to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders +riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards +for you all; you have horses for yourselves: +Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke +supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it +as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff +your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry +at home and be hanged. + +FALSTAFF +Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, +I'll hang you for going. + +POINS +You will, chops? + +FALSTAFF +Hal, wilt thou make one? + +PRINCE HENRY +Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. + +FALSTAFF +There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good +fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood +royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. + +FALSTAFF +Why, that's well said. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. + +PRINCE HENRY +I care not. + +POINS +Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: +I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure +that he shall go. + +FALSTAFF +Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him +the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may +move and what he hears may be believed, that the +true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false +thief; for the poor abuses of the time want +countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! + +Exit Falstaff + +POINS +Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us +to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot +manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill +shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: +yourself and I will not be there; and when they +have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut +this head off from my shoulders. + +PRINCE HENRY +How shall we part with them in setting forth? + +POINS +Why, we will set forth before or after them, and +appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at +our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure +upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have +no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our +horses, by our habits and by every other +appointment, to be ourselves. + +POINS +Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them +in the wood; our vizards we will change after we +leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram +for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. + +POINS +Well, for two of them, I know them to be as +true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the +third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll +forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the +incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will +tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at +least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what +extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this +lies the jest. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things +necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; +there I'll sup. Farewell. + +POINS +Farewell, my lord. + +Exit Poins + +PRINCE HENRY +I know you all, and will awhile uphold +The unyoked humour of your idleness: +Yet herein will I imitate the sun, +Who doth permit the base contagious clouds +To smother up his beauty from the world, +That, when he please again to be himself, +Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, +By breaking through the foul and ugly mists +Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. +If all the year were playing holidays, +To sport would be as tedious as to work; +But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, +And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. +So, when this loose behavior I throw off +And pay the debt I never promised, +By how much better than my word I am, +By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; +And like bright metal on a sullen ground, +My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, +Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes +Than that which hath no foil to set it off. +I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; +Redeeming time when men think least I will. + +Exit + +SCENE III. London. The palace. + +Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others +KING HENRY IV +My blood hath been too cold and temperate, +Unapt to stir at these indignities, +And you have found me; for accordingly +You tread upon my patience: but be sure +I will from henceforth rather be myself, +Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition; +Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, +And therefore lost that title of respect +Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves +The scourge of greatness to be used on it; +And that same greatness too which our own hands +Have holp to make so portly. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord.-- + +KING HENRY IV +Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see +Danger and disobedience in thine eye: +O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, +And majesty might never yet endure +The moody frontier of a servant brow. +You have good leave to leave us: when we need +Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. + +Exit Worcester + +You were about to speak. + +To North + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, my good lord. +Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded, +Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, +Were, as he says, not with such strength denied +As is deliver'd to your majesty: +Either envy, therefore, or misprison +Is guilty of this fault and not my son. + +HOTSPUR +My liege, I did deny no prisoners. +But I remember, when the fight was done, +When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, +Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, +Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, +Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd +Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; +He was perfumed like a milliner; +And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held +A pouncet-box, which ever and anon +He gave his nose and took't away again; +Who therewith angry, when it next came there, +Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, +And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, +He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly, +To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse +Betwixt the wind and his nobility. +With many holiday and lady terms +He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded +My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. +I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, +To be so pester'd with a popinjay, +Out of my grief and my impatience, +Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, +He should or he should not; for he made me mad +To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet +And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman +Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!-- +And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth +Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; +And that it was great pity, so it was, +This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd +Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, +Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd +So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, +He would himself have been a soldier. +This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, +I answer'd indirectly, as I said; +And I beseech you, let not his report +Come current for an accusation +Betwixt my love and your high majesty. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, +Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said +To such a person and in such a place, +At such a time, with all the rest retold, +May reasonably die and never rise +To do him wrong or any way impeach +What then he said, so he unsay it now. + +KING HENRY IV +Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, +But with proviso and exception, +That we at our own charge shall ransom straight +His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; +Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd +The lives of those that he did lead to fight +Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower, +Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March +Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then, +Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? +Shall we but treason? and indent with fears, +When they have lost and forfeited themselves? +No, on the barren mountains let him starve; +For I shall never hold that man my friend +Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost +To ransom home revolted Mortimer. + +HOTSPUR +Revolted Mortimer! +He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, +But by the chance of war; to prove that true +Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, +Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took +When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, +In single opposition, hand to hand, +He did confound the best part of an hour +In changing hardiment with great Glendower: +Three times they breathed and three times did +they drink, +Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; +Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, +Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, +And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, +Bloodstained with these valiant combatants. +Never did base and rotten policy +Colour her working with such deadly wounds; +Nor could the noble Mortimer +Receive so many, and all willingly: +Then let not him be slander'd with revolt. + +KING HENRY IV +Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him; +He never did encounter with Glendower: +I tell thee, +He durst as well have met the devil alone +As Owen Glendower for an enemy. +Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth +Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer: +Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, +Or you shall hear in such a kind from me +As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, +We licence your departure with your son. +Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. + +Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train + +HOTSPUR +An if the devil come and roar for them, +I will not send them: I will after straight +And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, +Albeit I make a hazard of my head. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile: +Here comes your uncle. + +Re-enter WORCESTER + +HOTSPUR +Speak of Mortimer! +'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul +Want mercy, if I do not join with him: +Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, +And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, +But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer +As high in the air as this unthankful king, +As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Who struck this heat up after I was gone? + +HOTSPUR +He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; +And when I urged the ransom once again +Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, +And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, +Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd +By Richard that dead is the next of blood? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He was; I heard the proclamation: +And then it was when the unhappy king, +--Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth +Upon his Irish expedition; +From whence he intercepted did return +To be deposed and shortly murdered. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth +Live scandalized and foully spoken of. + +HOTSPUR +But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then +Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer +Heir to the crown? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He did; myself did hear it. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, +That wished him on the barren mountains starve. +But shall it be that you, that set the crown +Upon the head of this forgetful man +And for his sake wear the detested blot +Of murderous subornation, shall it be, +That you a world of curses undergo, +Being the agents, or base second means, +The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? +O, pardon me that I descend so low, +To show the line and the predicament +Wherein you range under this subtle king; +Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, +Or fill up chronicles in time to come, +That men of your nobility and power +Did gage them both in an unjust behalf, +As both of you--God pardon it!--have done, +To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, +An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? +And shall it in more shame be further spoken, +That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off +By him for whom these shames ye underwent? +No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem +Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves +Into the good thoughts of the world again, +Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt +Of this proud king, who studies day and night +To answer all the debt he owes to you +Even with the bloody payment of your deaths: +Therefore, I say-- + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Peace, cousin, say no more: +And now I will unclasp a secret book, +And to your quick-conceiving discontents +I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, +As full of peril and adventurous spirit +As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud +On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. + +HOTSPUR +If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: +Send danger from the east unto the west, +So honour cross it from the north to south, +And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs +To rouse a lion than to start a hare! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Imagination of some great exploit +Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. + +HOTSPUR +By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, +To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, +Or dive into the bottom of the deep, +Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, +And pluck up drowned honour by the locks; +So he that doth redeem her thence might wear +Without corrival, all her dignities: +But out upon this half-faced fellowship! + +EARL OF WORCESTER +He apprehends a world of figures here, +But not the form of what he should attend. +Good cousin, give me audience for a while. + +HOTSPUR +I cry you mercy. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Those same noble Scots +That are your prisoners,-- + +HOTSPUR +I'll keep them all; +By God, he shall not have a Scot of them; +No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: +I'll keep them, by this hand. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +You start away +And lend no ear unto my purposes. +Those prisoners you shall keep. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, I will; that's flat: +He said he would not ransom Mortimer; +Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; +But I will find him when he lies asleep, +And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!' +Nay, +I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak +Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him +To keep his anger still in motion. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Hear you, cousin; a word. + +HOTSPUR +All studies here I solemnly defy, +Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: +And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, +But that I think his father loves him not +And would be glad he met with some mischance, +I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you +When you are better temper'd to attend. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool +Art thou to break into this woman's mood, +Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! + +HOTSPUR +Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods, +Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear +Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. +In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?-- +A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire; +'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, +His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee +Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,-- +'Sblood!-- +When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +At Berkley castle. + +HOTSPUR +You say true: +Why, what a candy deal of courtesy +This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! +Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,' +And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;' +O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me! +Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Nay, if you have not, to it again; +We will stay your leisure. + +HOTSPUR +I have done, i' faith. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. +Deliver them up without their ransom straight, +And make the Douglas' son your only mean +For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons +Which I shall send you written, be assured, +Will easily be granted. You, my lord, + +To Northumberland + +Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, +Shall secretly into the bosom creep +Of that same noble prelate, well beloved, +The archbishop. + +HOTSPUR +Of York, is it not? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +True; who bears hard +His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. +I speak not this in estimation, +As what I think might be, but what I know +Is ruminated, plotted and set down, +And only stays but to behold the face +Of that occasion that shall bring it on. + +HOTSPUR +I smell it: upon my life, it will do well. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip. + +HOTSPUR +Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot; +And then the power of Scotland and of York, +To join with Mortimer, ha? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And so they shall. + +HOTSPUR +In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, +To save our heads by raising of a head; +For, bear ourselves as even as we can, +The king will always think him in our debt, +And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, +Till he hath found a time to pay us home: +And see already how he doth begin +To make us strangers to his looks of love. + +HOTSPUR +He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Cousin, farewell: no further go in this +Than I by letters shall direct your course. +When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, +I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; +Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, +As I will fashion it, shall happily meet, +To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, +Which now we hold at much uncertainty. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust. + +HOTSPUR +Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short +Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard. + +Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand +First Carrier +Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be +hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and +yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! + +Ostler +[Within] Anon, anon. + +First Carrier +I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks +in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out +of all cess. + +Enter another Carrier + +Second Carrier +Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that +is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this +house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. + +First Carrier +Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats +rose; it was the death of him. + +Second Carrier +I think this be the most villanous house in all +London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. + +First Carrier +Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king +christen could be better bit than I have been since +the first cock. + +Second Carrier +Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we +leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds +fleas like a loach. + +First Carrier +What, ostler! come away and be hanged! + +Second Carrier +I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, +to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. + +First Carrier +God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite +starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou +never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An +'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate +on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! +hast thou no faith in thee? + +Enter GADSHILL + +GADSHILL +Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? + +First Carrier +I think it be two o'clock. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding +in the stable. + +First Carrier +Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee, lend me thine. + +Second Carrier +Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth +he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? + +Second Carrier +Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant +thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the +gentleman: they will along with company, for they +have great charge. + +Exeunt carriers + +GADSHILL +What, ho! chamberlain! + +Chamberlain +[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse. + +GADSHILL +That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the +chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking +of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; +thou layest the plot how. + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that +I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the +wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with +him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his +company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one +that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. +They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; +they will away presently. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' +clerks, I'll give thee this neck. + +Chamberlain +No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the +hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas +as truly as a man of falsehood may. + +GADSHILL +What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, +I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old +Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no +starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou +dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are +content to do the profession some grace; that would, +if matters should be looked into, for their own +credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no +foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, +none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; +but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and +great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will +strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than +drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, +I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the +commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey +on her, for they ride up and down on her and make +her their boots. + +Chamberlain +What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold +out water in foul way? + +GADSHILL +She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We +steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt +of fern-seed, we walk invisible. + +Chamberlain +Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to +the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible. + +GADSHILL +Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our +purchase, as I am a true man. + +Chamberlain +Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. + +GADSHILL +Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the +ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, +you muddy knave. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +POINS +Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's +horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. + +PRINCE HENRY +Stand close. + +Enter FALSTAFF + +FALSTAFF +Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost +thou keep! + +FALSTAFF +Where's Poins, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him. + +FALSTAFF +I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the +rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know +not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier +further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt +not but to die a fair death for all this, if I +'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have +forsworn his company hourly any time this two and +twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the +rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me +medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it +could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! +Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! +I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere +not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to +leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that +ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven +ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; +and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: +a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! + +They whistle + +Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you +rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close +to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread +of travellers. + +FALSTAFF +Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? +'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot +again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. +What a plague mean ye to colt me thus? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. + +FALSTAFF +I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, +good king's son. + +PRINCE HENRY +Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler? + +FALSTAFF +Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent +garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I +have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy +tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest +is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it. + +Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO + +GADSHILL +Stand. + +FALSTAFF +So I do, against my will. + +POINS +O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, +what news? + +BARDOLPH +Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's +money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going +to the king's exchequer. + +FALSTAFF +You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern. + +GADSHILL +There's enough to make us all. + +FALSTAFF +To be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; +Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape +from your encounter, then they light on us. + +PETO +How many be there of them? + +GADSHILL +Some eight or ten. + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, will they not rob us? + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; +but yet no coward, Hal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, we leave that to the proof. + +POINS +Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: +when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. +Farewell, and stand fast. + +FALSTAFF +Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, where are our disguises? + +POINS +Here, hard by: stand close. + +Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +FALSTAFF +Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: +every man to his business. + +Enter the Travellers + +First Traveller +Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down +the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs. + +Thieves +Stand! + +Travellers +Jesus bless us! + +FALSTAFF +Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats: +ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they +hate us youth: down with them: fleece them. + +Travellers +O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! + +FALSTAFF +Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye +fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, +bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. +You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith. + +Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt + +Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +PRINCE HENRY +The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou +and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it +would be argument for a week, laughter for a month +and a good jest for ever. + +POINS +Stand close; I hear them coming. + +Enter the Thieves again + +FALSTAFF +Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse +before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two +arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's +no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck. + +PRINCE HENRY +Your money! + +POINS +Villains! + +As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them + +PRINCE HENRY +Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: +The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear +So strongly that they dare not meet each other; +Each takes his fellow for an officer. +Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, +And lards the lean earth as he walks along: +Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him. + +POINS +How the rogue roar'd! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth castle + +Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter +HOTSPUR +'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well +contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear +your house.' He could be contented: why is he not, +then? In respect of the love he bears our house: +he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than +he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's +certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to +drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this +nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you +have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and +your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so +great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say +unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and +you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, +our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our +friends true and constant: a good plot, good +friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, +very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is +this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the +general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by +this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. +Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord +Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? +is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all +their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the +next month? and are they not some of them set +forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an +infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity +of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay +open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself +and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of +skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! +let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set +forward to-night. + +Enter LADY PERCY + +How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. + +LADY PERCY +O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? +For what offence have I this fortnight been +A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? +Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee +Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? +Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, +And start so often when thou sit'st alone? +Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; +And given my treasures and my rights of thee +To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? +In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, +And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; +Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; +Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd +Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, +Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, +Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, +Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain, +And all the currents of a heady fight. +Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war +And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, +That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow +Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; +And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, +Such as we see when men restrain their breath +On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? +Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, +And I must know it, else he loves me not. + +HOTSPUR +What, ho! + +Enter Servant + +Is Gilliams with the packet gone? + +Servant +He is, my lord, an hour ago. + +HOTSPUR +Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? + +Servant +One horse, my lord, he brought even now. + +HOTSPUR +What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? + +Servant +It is, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +That roan shall by my throne. +Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! +Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. + +Exit Servant + +LADY PERCY +But hear you, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +What say'st thou, my lady? + +LADY PERCY +What is it carries you away? + +HOTSPUR +Why, my horse, my love, my horse. + +LADY PERCY +Out, you mad-headed ape! +A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen +As you are toss'd with. In faith, +I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. +I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir +About his title, and hath sent for you +To line his enterprise: but if you go,-- + +HOTSPUR +So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. + +LADY PERCY +Come, come, you paraquito, answer me +Directly unto this question that I ask: +In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, +An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. + +HOTSPUR +Away, +Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, +I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world +To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: +We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns, +And pass them current too. God's me, my horse! +What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou +have with me? + +LADY PERCY +Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? +Well, do not then; for since you love me not, +I will not love myself. Do you not love me? +Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. + +HOTSPUR +Come, wilt thou see me ride? +And when I am on horseback, I will swear +I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; +I must not have you henceforth question me +Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: +Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, +This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. +I know you wise, but yet no farther wise +Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are, +But yet a woman: and for secrecy, +No lady closer; for I well believe +Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; +And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. + +LADY PERCY +How! so far? + +HOTSPUR +Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: +Whither I go, thither shall you go too; +To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. +Will this content you, Kate? + +LADY PERCY +It must of force. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me +thy hand to laugh a little. + +POINS +Where hast been, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four +score hogsheads. I have sounded the very +base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother +to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by +their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. +They take it already upon their salvation, that +though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king +of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, +like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a +good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I +am king of England, I shall command all the good +lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing +scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they +cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I +am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, +that I can drink with any tinker in his own language +during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost +much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet +action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of +Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped +even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that +never spake other English in his life than 'Eight +shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with +this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint +of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to +drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, +do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my +puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do +thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale +to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and +I'll show thee a precedent. + +POINS +Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art perfect. + +POINS +Francis! + +Exit POINS + +Enter FRANCIS + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph. + +PRINCE HENRY +Come hither, Francis. + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +How long hast thou to serve, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking +of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant +as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it +a fair pair of heels and run from it? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in +England, I could find in my heart. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +How old art thou, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou +gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, I would it had been two! + +PRINCE HENRY +I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me +when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon. + +PRINCE HENRY +Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; +or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when +thou wilt. But, Francis! + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button, +not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, +smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,-- + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, who do you mean? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; +for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet +will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. + +FRANCIS +What, sir? + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call? + +Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go + +Enter Vintner + +Vintner +What, standest thou still, and hearest such a +calling? Look to the guests within. + +Exit Francis + +My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are +at the door: shall I let them in? + +PRINCE HENRY +Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. + +Exit Vintner + +Poins! + +Re-enter POINS + +POINS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at +the door: shall we be merry? + +POINS +As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what +cunning match have you made with this jest of the +drawer? come, what's the issue? + +PRINCE HENRY +I am now of all humours that have showed themselves +humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the +pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. + +Re-enter FRANCIS + +What's o'clock, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +Exit + +PRINCE HENRY +That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a +parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is +upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of +a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the +Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or +seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his +hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet +life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she, +'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan +horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some +fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I +prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and +that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his +wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. + +Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO; FRANCIS following with wine + +POINS +Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been? + +FALSTAFF +A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! +marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I +lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend +them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! +Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? + +He drinks + +PRINCE HENRY +Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? +pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale +of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is +nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: +yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime +in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; +die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be +not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a +shotten herring. There live not three good men +unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and +grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say. +I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any +thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still. + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, wool-sack! what mutter you? + +FALSTAFF +A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy +kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy +subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese, +I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales! + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there? + +POINS +'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the +Lord, I'll stab thee. + +FALSTAFF +I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call +thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I +could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight +enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your +back: call you that backing of your friends? A +plague upon such backing! give me them that will +face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I +drunk to-day. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou +drunkest last. + +FALSTAFF +All's one for that. + +He drinks + +A plague of all cowards, still say I. + +PRINCE HENRY +What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +What's the matter! there be four of us here have +ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where is it, Jack? where is it? + +FALSTAFF +Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon +poor four of us. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a hundred, man? + +FALSTAFF +I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a +dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by +miracle. I am eight times thrust through the +doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut +through and through; my sword hacked like a +hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since +I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all +cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or +less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness. + +PRINCE HENRY +Speak, sirs; how was it? + +GADSHILL +We four set upon some dozen-- + +FALSTAFF +Sixteen at least, my lord. + +GADSHILL +And bound them. + +PETO +No, no, they were not bound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I +am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. + +GADSHILL +As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us-- + +FALSTAFF +And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, fought you with them all? + +FALSTAFF +All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought +not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if +there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old +Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. + +PRINCE HENRY +Pray God you have not murdered some of them. + +FALSTAFF +Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two +of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues +in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell +thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou +knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my +point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, four? thou saidst but two even now. + +FALSTAFF +Four, Hal; I told thee four. + +POINS +Ay, ay, he said four. + +FALSTAFF +These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at +me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven +points in my target, thus. + +PRINCE HENRY +Seven? why, there were but four even now. + +FALSTAFF +In buckram? + +POINS +Ay, four, in buckram suits. + +FALSTAFF +Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear me, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine +in buckram that I told thee of-- + +PRINCE HENRY +So, two more already. + +FALSTAFF +Their points being broken,-- + +POINS +Down fell their hose. + +FALSTAFF +Began to give me ground: but I followed me close, +came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of +the eleven I paid. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! + +FALSTAFF +But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten +knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive +at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst +not see thy hand. + +PRINCE HENRY +These lies are like their father that begets them; +gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou +clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou +whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,-- + +FALSTAFF +What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth +the truth? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal +green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy +hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this? + +POINS +Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. + +FALSTAFF +What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the +strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would +not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on +compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as +blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon +compulsion, I. + +PRINCE HENRY +I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine +coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, +this huge hill of flesh,-- + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried +neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O +for breath to utter what is like thee! you +tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile +standing-tuck,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and +when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, +hear me speak but this. + +POINS +Mark, Jack. + +PRINCE HENRY +We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and +were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain +tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you +four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your +prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in +the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts +away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared +for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard +bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword +as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! +What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst +thou now find out to hide thee from this open and +apparent shame? + +POINS +Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now? + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. +Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the +heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? +why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but +beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true +prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a +coward on instinct. I shall think the better of +myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant +lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, +lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap +to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. +Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles +of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be +merry? shall we have a play extempore? + +PRINCE HENRY +Content; and the argument shall be thy running away. + +FALSTAFF +Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! + +Enter Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord the prince! + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to +me? + +Hostess +Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at +door would speak with you: he says he comes from +your father. + +PRINCE HENRY +Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and +send him back again to my mother. + +FALSTAFF +What manner of man is he? + +Hostess +An old man. + +FALSTAFF +What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall +I give him his answer? + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, do, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +'Faith, and I'll send him packing. + +Exit FALSTAFF + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you, +Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you +ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true +prince; no, fie! + +BARDOLPH +'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. + +PRINCE HENRY +'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's +sword so hacked? + +PETO +Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would +swear truth out of England but he would make you +believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like. + +BARDOLPH +Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to +make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments +with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I +did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed +to hear his monstrous devices. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years +ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since +thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and +sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what +instinct hadst thou for it? + +BARDOLPH +My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold +these exhalations? + +PRINCE HENRY +I do. + +BARDOLPH +What think you they portend? + +PRINCE HENRY +Hot livers and cold purses. + +BARDOLPH +Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. + +PRINCE HENRY +No, if rightly taken, halter. + +Re-enter FALSTAFF + +Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. +How now, my sweet creature of bombast! +How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? + +FALSTAFF +My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was +not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have +crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of +sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a +bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was +Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the +court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the +north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the +bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the +devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh +hook--what a plague call you him? + +POINS +O, Glendower. + +FALSTAFF +Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer, +and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of +Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill +perpendicular,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +He that rides at high speed and with his pistol +kills a sparrow flying. + +FALSTAFF +You have hit it. + +PRINCE HENRY +So did he never the sparrow. + +FALSTAFF +Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so +for running! + +FALSTAFF +O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, +and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: +Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's +beard is turned white with the news: you may buy +land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and +this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads +as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. + +FALSTAFF +By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we +shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, +art not thou horrible afeard? thou being +heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three +such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that +spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou +not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at +it? + +PRINCE HENRY +Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct. + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou +comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the +particulars of my life. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state, +this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden +sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich +crown for a pitiful bald crown! + +FALSTAFF +Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, +now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to +make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have +wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it +in King Cambyses' vein. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here is my leg. + +FALSTAFF +And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. + +Hostess +O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! + +FALSTAFF +Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. + +Hostess +O, the father, how he holds his countenance! + +FALSTAFF +For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen; +For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. + +Hostess +O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry +players as ever I see! + +FALSTAFF +Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. +Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy +time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though +the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster +it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the +sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have +partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, +but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a +foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant +me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; +why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall +the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat +blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall +the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a +question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, +which thou hast often heard of and it is known to +many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, +as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth +the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not +speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in +pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in +woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I +have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. + +PRINCE HENRY +What manner of man, an it like your majesty? + +FALSTAFF +A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a +cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble +carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, +by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I +remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man +should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, +I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be +known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, +peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that +Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell +me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast +thou been this month? + +PRINCE HENRY +Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, +and I'll play my father. + +FALSTAFF +Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so +majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by +the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here I am set. + +FALSTAFF +And here I stand: judge, my masters. + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, Harry, whence come you? + +FALSTAFF +My noble lord, from Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle +ye for a young prince, i' faith. + +PRINCE HENRY +Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look +on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: +there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an +old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why +dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that +bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel +of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed +cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with +the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that +grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in +years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and +drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a +capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? +wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, +but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? + +FALSTAFF +I would your grace would take me with you: whom +means your grace? + +PRINCE HENRY +That villanous abominable misleader of youth, +Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, the man I know. + +PRINCE HENRY +I know thou dost. + +FALSTAFF +But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, +were to say more than I know. That he is old, the +more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but +that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster, +that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, +God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a +sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if +to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine +are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, +banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack +Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, +valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, +being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him +thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's +company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do, I will. + +A knocking heard + +Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH + +Re-enter BARDOLPH, running + +BARDOLPH +O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most +monstrous watch is at the door. + +FALSTAFF +Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to +say in the behalf of that Falstaff. + +Re-enter the Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord, my lord! + +PRINCE HENRY +Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: +what's the matter? + +Hostess +The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they +are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of +gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, +without seeming so. + +PRINCE HENRY +And thou a natural coward, without instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, +so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart +as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! +I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. + +PRINCE HENRY +Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up +above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good +conscience. + +FALSTAFF +Both which I have had: but their date is out, and +therefore I'll hide me. + +PRINCE HENRY +Call in the sheriff. + +Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO + +Enter Sheriff and the Carrier + +Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me? + +Sheriff +First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry +Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. + +PRINCE HENRY +What men? + +Sheriff +One of them is well known, my gracious lord, +A gross fat man. + +Carrier +As fat as butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +The man, I do assure you, is not here; +For I myself at this time have employ'd him. +And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee +That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time, +Send him to answer thee, or any man, +For any thing he shall be charged withal: +And so let me entreat you leave the house. + +Sheriff +I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen +Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. + +PRINCE HENRY +It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, +He shall be answerable; and so farewell. + +Sheriff +Good night, my noble lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +I think it is good morrow, is it not? + +Sheriff +Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. + +Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier + +PRINCE HENRY +This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, +call him forth. + +PETO +Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and +snorting like a horse. + +PRINCE HENRY +Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets. + +He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers + +What hast thou found? + +PETO +Nothing but papers, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Let's see what they be: read them. + +PETO +[Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d. +Item, Sauce,. . . 4d. +Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. +Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. +Item, Bread, ob. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to +this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, +keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there +let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the +morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place +shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a +charge of foot; and I know his death will be a +march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid +back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in +the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto. + +Exeunt + +PETO +Good morrow, good my lord. + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. + +Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER +MORTIMER +These promises are fair, the parties sure, +And our induction full of prosperous hope. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, +Will you sit down? +And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it! +I have forgot the map. + +GLENDOWER +No, here it is. +Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur, +For by that name as oft as Lancaster +Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with +A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven. + +HOTSPUR +And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. + +GLENDOWER +I cannot blame him: at my nativity +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +Of burning cressets; and at my birth +The frame and huge foundation of the earth +Shaked like a coward. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so it would have done at the same season, if +your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself +had never been born. + +GLENDOWER +I say the earth did shake when I was born. + +HOTSPUR +And I say the earth was not of my mind, +If you suppose as fearing you it shook. + +GLENDOWER +The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. + +HOTSPUR +O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, +And not in fear of your nativity. +Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth +In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth +Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd +By the imprisoning of unruly wind +Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, +Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down +Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth +Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, +In passion shook. + +GLENDOWER +Cousin, of many men +I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave +To tell you once again that at my birth +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds +Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. +These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; +And all the courses of my life do show +I am not in the roll of common men. +Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea +That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, +Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? +And bring him out that is but woman's son +Can trace me in the tedious ways of art +And hold me pace in deep experiments. + +HOTSPUR +I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. +I'll to dinner. + +MORTIMER +Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. + +GLENDOWER +I can call spirits from the vasty deep. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so can I, or so can any man; +But will they come when you do call for them? + +GLENDOWER +Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command +The devil. + +HOTSPUR +And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil +By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil. +If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, +And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. +O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil! + +MORTIMER +Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. + +GLENDOWER +Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head +Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye +And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him +Bootless home and weather-beaten back. + +HOTSPUR +Home without boots, and in foul weather too! +How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? + +GLENDOWER +Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right +According to our threefold order ta'en? + +MORTIMER +The archdeacon hath divided it +Into three limits very equally: +England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, +By south and east is to my part assign'd: +All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, +And all the fertile land within that bound, +To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you +The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. +And our indentures tripartite are drawn; +Which being sealed interchangeably, +A business that this night may execute, +To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I +And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth +To meet your father and the Scottish power, +As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. +My father Glendower is not ready yet, +Not shall we need his help these fourteen days. +Within that space you may have drawn together +Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen. + +GLENDOWER +A shorter time shall send me to you, lords: +And in my conduct shall your ladies come; +From whom you now must steal and take no leave, +For there will be a world of water shed +Upon the parting of your wives and you. + +HOTSPUR +Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, +In quantity equals not one of yours: +See how this river comes me cranking in, +And cuts me from the best of all my land +A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. +I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; +And here the smug and silver Trent shall run +In a new channel, fair and evenly; +It shall not wind with such a deep indent, +To rob me of so rich a bottom here. + +GLENDOWER +Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth. + +MORTIMER +Yea, but +Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up +With like advantage on the other side; +Gelding the opposed continent as much +As on the other side it takes from you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Yea, but a little charge will trench him here +And on this north side win this cape of land; +And then he runs straight and even. + +HOTSPUR +I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. + +GLENDOWER +I'll not have it alter'd. + +HOTSPUR +Will not you? + +GLENDOWER +No, nor you shall not. + +HOTSPUR +Who shall say me nay? + +GLENDOWER +Why, that will I. + +HOTSPUR +Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +I can speak English, lord, as well as you; +For I was train'd up in the English court; +Where, being but young, I framed to the harp +Many an English ditty lovely well +And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, +A virtue that was never seen in you. + +HOTSPUR +Marry, +And I am glad of it with all my heart: +I had rather be a kitten and cry mew +Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers; +I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, +Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree; +And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, +Nothing so much as mincing poetry: +'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. + +GLENDOWER +Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. + +HOTSPUR +I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land +To any well-deserving friend; +But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, +I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. +Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? + +GLENDOWER +The moon shines fair; you may away by night: +I'll haste the writer and withal +Break with your wives of your departure hence: +I am afraid my daughter will run mad, +So much she doteth on her Mortimer. + +Exit GLENDOWER + +MORTIMER +Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! + +HOTSPUR +I cannot choose: sometime he angers me +With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant, +Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, +And of a dragon and a finless fish, +A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, +A couching lion and a ramping cat, +And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff +As puts me from my faith. I tell you what; +He held me last night at least nine hours +In reckoning up the several devils' names +That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,' +But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious +As a tired horse, a railing wife; +Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live +With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, +Than feed on cates and have him talk to me +In any summer-house in Christendom. + +MORTIMER +In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, +Exceedingly well read, and profited +In strange concealments, valiant as a lion +And as wondrous affable and as bountiful +As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? +He holds your temper in a high respect +And curbs himself even of his natural scope +When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does: +I warrant you, that man is not alive +Might so have tempted him as you have done, +Without the taste of danger and reproof: +But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; +And since your coming hither have done enough +To put him quite beside his patience. +You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: +Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,-- +And that's the dearest grace it renders you,-- +Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, +Defect of manners, want of government, +Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain: +The least of which haunting a nobleman +Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain +Upon the beauty of all parts besides, +Beguiling them of commendation. + +HOTSPUR +Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed! +Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. + +Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies + +MORTIMER +This is the deadly spite that angers me; +My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; +She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. + +MORTIMER +Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy +Shall follow in your conduct speedily. + +Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same + +GLENDOWER +She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry, +one that no persuasion can do good upon. + +The lady speaks in Welsh + +MORTIMER +I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh +Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens +I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, +In such a parley should I answer thee. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +I understand thy kisses and thou mine, +And that's a feeling disputation: +But I will never be a truant, love, +Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue +Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, +Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, +With ravishing division, to her lute. + +GLENDOWER +Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +MORTIMER +O, I am ignorance itself in this! + +GLENDOWER +She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down +And rest your gentle head upon her lap, +And she will sing the song that pleaseth you +And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep. +Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, +Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep +As is the difference betwixt day and night +The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team +Begins his golden progress in the east. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: +By that time will our book, I think, be drawn + +GLENDOWER +Do so; +And those musicians that shall play to you +Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence, +And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, +quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. + +LADY PERCY +Go, ye giddy goose. + +The music plays + +HOTSPUR +Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; +And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. +By'r lady, he is a good musician. + +LADY PERCY +Then should you be nothing but musical for you are +altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, +and hear the lady sing in Welsh. + +HOTSPUR +I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. + +LADY PERCY +Wouldst thou have thy head broken? + +HOTSPUR +No. + +LADY PERCY +Then be still. + +HOTSPUR +Neither;'tis a woman's fault. + +LADY PERCY +Now God help thee! + +HOTSPUR +To the Welsh lady's bed. + +LADY PERCY +What's that? + +HOTSPUR +Peace! she sings. + +Here the lady sings a Welsh song + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. + +LADY PERCY +Not mine, in good sooth. + +HOTSPUR +Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a +comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and +'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and +'as sure as day,' +And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, +As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. +Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, +A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,' +And such protest of pepper-gingerbread, +To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. +Come, sing. + +LADY PERCY +I will not sing. + +HOTSPUR +'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast +teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away +within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. + +Exit + +GLENDOWER +Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow +As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. +By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal, +And then to horse immediately. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others +KING HENRY IV +Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I +Must have some private conference; but be near at hand, +For we shall presently have need of you. + +Exeunt Lords + +I know not whether God will have it so, +For some displeasing service I have done, +That, in his secret doom, out of my blood +He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; +But thou dost in thy passages of life +Make me believe that thou art only mark'd +For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven +To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, +Could such inordinate and low desires, +Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, +Such barren pleasures, rude society, +As thou art match'd withal and grafted to, +Accompany the greatness of thy blood +And hold their level with thy princely heart? + +PRINCE HENRY +So please your majesty, I would I could +Quit all offences with as clear excuse +As well as I am doubtless I can purge +Myself of many I am charged withal: +Yet such extenuation let me beg, +As, in reproof of many tales devised, +which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, +By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers, +I may, for some things true, wherein my youth +Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, +Find pardon on my true submission. + +KING HENRY IV +God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, +At thy affections, which do hold a wing +Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. +Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost. +Which by thy younger brother is supplied, +And art almost an alien to the hearts +Of all the court and princes of my blood: +The hope and expectation of thy time +Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man +Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. +Had I so lavish of my presence been, +So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, +So stale and cheap to vulgar company, +Opinion, that did help me to the crown, +Had still kept loyal to possession +And left me in reputeless banishment, +A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. +By being seldom seen, I could not stir +But like a comet I was wonder'd at; +That men would tell their children 'This is he;' +Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?' +And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, +And dress'd myself in such humility +That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, +Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, +Even in the presence of the crowned king. +Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; +My presence, like a robe pontifical, +Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, +Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast +And won by rareness such solemnity. +The skipping king, he ambled up and down +With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, +Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, +Mingled his royalty with capering fools, +Had his great name profaned with their scorns +And gave his countenance, against his name, +To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push +Of every beardless vain comparative, +Grew a companion to the common streets, +Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; +That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, +They surfeited with honey and began +To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little +More than a little is by much too much. +So when he had occasion to be seen, +He was but as the cuckoo is in June, +Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes +As, sick and blunted with community, +Afford no extraordinary gaze, +Such as is bent on sun-like majesty +When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; +But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down, +Slept in his face and render'd such aspect +As cloudy men use to their adversaries, +Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full. +And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; +For thou has lost thy princely privilege +With vile participation: not an eye +But is a-weary of thy common sight, +Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; +Which now doth that I would not have it do, +Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. + +PRINCE HENRY +I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, +Be more myself. + +KING HENRY IV +For all the world +As thou art to this hour was Richard then +When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh, +And even as I was then is Percy now. +Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot, +He hath more worthy interest to the state +Than thou the shadow of succession; +For of no right, nor colour like to right, +He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, +Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, +And, being no more in debt to years than thou, +Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on +To bloody battles and to bruising arms. +What never-dying honour hath he got +Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, +Whose hot incursions and great name in arms +Holds from all soldiers chief majority +And military title capital +Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: +Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, +This infant warrior, in his enterprises +Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, +Enlarged him and made a friend of him, +To fill the mouth of deep defiance up +And shake the peace and safety of our throne. +And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, +The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, +Capitulate against us and are up. +But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? +Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, +Which art my near'st and dearest enemy? +Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, +Base inclination and the start of spleen +To fight against me under Percy's pay, +To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, +To show how much thou art degenerate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do not think so; you shall not find it so: +And God forgive them that so much have sway'd +Your majesty's good thoughts away from me! +I will redeem all this on Percy's head +And in the closing of some glorious day +Be bold to tell you that I am your son; +When I will wear a garment all of blood +And stain my favours in a bloody mask, +Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: +And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, +That this same child of honour and renown, +This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, +And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. +For every honour sitting on his helm, +Would they were multitudes, and on my head +My shames redoubled! for the time will come, +That I shall make this northern youth exchange +His glorious deeds for my indignities. +Percy is but my factor, good my lord, +To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; +And I will call him to so strict account, +That he shall render every glory up, +Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, +Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. +This, in the name of God, I promise here: +The which if He be pleased I shall perform, +I do beseech your majesty may salve +The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: +If not, the end of life cancels all bands; +And I will die a hundred thousand deaths +Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. + +KING HENRY IV +A hundred thousand rebels die in this: +Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. + +Enter BLUNT + +How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +So hath the business that I come to speak of. +Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word +That Douglas and the English rebels met +The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury +A mighty and a fearful head they are, +If promises be kept on every hand, +As ever offer'd foul play in the state. + +KING HENRY IV +The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day; +With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; +For this advertisement is five days old: +On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; +On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting +Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march +Through Gloucestershire; by which account, +Our business valued, some twelve days hence +Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. +Our hands are full of business: let's away; +Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. + +Exeunt + +Scene III +Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern. + +Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last +action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my +skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose +gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, +I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some +liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I +shall have no strength to repent. An I have not +forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I +am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a +church! Company, villanous company, hath been the +spoil of me. + +BARDOLPH +Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. + +FALSTAFF +Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make +me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman +need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not +above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once +in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I +borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in +good compass: and now I live out of all order, out +of all compass. + +BARDOLPH +Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs +be out of all compass, out of all reasonable +compass, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF +Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: +thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in +the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the +Knight of the Burning Lamp. + +BARDOLPH +Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. + +FALSTAFF +No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many +a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I +never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and +Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his +robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way +given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath +should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but +thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but +for the light in thy face, the son of utter +darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the +night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou +hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, +there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a +perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! +Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and +torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt +tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast +drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap +at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have +maintained that salamander of yours with fire any +time this two and thirty years; God reward me for +it! + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not +able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more +than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only +witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other +men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that +hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the +prince put thee into my service for any other reason +than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. +Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn +in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never +manned with an agate till now: but I will inset you +neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and +send you back again to your master, for a jewel,-- +the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is +not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in +the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his +cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is +a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis +not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still at a +face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence +out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had +writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He +may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, +I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about +the satin for my short cloak and my slops? + +Page +He said, sir, you should procure him better +assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his +band and yours; he liked not the security. + +FALSTAFF +Let him be damned, like the glutton! pray God his +tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally +yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, +and then stand upon security! The whoreson +smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and +bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is +through with them in honest taking up, then they +must stand upon security. I had as lief they would +put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with +security. I looked a' should have sent me two and +twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he +sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; +for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness +of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he +see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. +Where's Bardolph? + +Page +He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. + +FALSTAFF +I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in +Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the +stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant + +Page +Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the +Prince for striking him about Bardolph. + +FALSTAFF +Wait, close; I will not see him. +Lord Chief-Justice What's he that goes there? + +Servant +Falstaff, an't please your lordship. +Lord Chief-Justice He that was in question for the robbery? + +Servant +He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at +Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some +charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. +Lord Chief-Justice What, to York? Call him back again. + +Servant +Sir John Falstaff! + +FALSTAFF +Boy, tell him I am deaf. + +Page +You must speak louder; my master is deaf. +Lord Chief-Justice I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. +Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. + +Servant +Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not +wars? is there not employment? doth not the king +lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? +Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it +is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, +were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell +how to make it. + +Servant +You mistake me, sir. + +FALSTAFF +Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting +my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied +in my throat, if I had said so. + +Servant +I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and our +soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, +you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other +than an honest man. + +FALSTAFF +I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that +which grows to me! if thou gettest any leave of me, +hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be +hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt! + +Servant +Sir, my lord would speak with you. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. + +FALSTAFF +My good lord! God give your lordship good time of +day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard +say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship +goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not +clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in +you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I must +humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care +of your health. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to +Shrewsbury. + +FALSTAFF +An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is +returned with some discomfort from Wales. +Lord Chief-Justice I talk not of his majesty: you would not come when +I sent for you. + +FALSTAFF +And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into +this same whoreson apoplexy. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with +you. + +FALSTAFF +This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, +an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the +blood, a whoreson tingling. +Lord Chief-Justice What tell you me of it? be it as it is. + +FALSTAFF +It hath its original from much grief, from study and +perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of +his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness. +Lord Chief-Justice I think you are fallen into the disease; for you +hear not what I say to you. + +FALSTAFF +Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please +you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady +of not marking, that I am troubled withal. +Lord Chief-Justice To punish you by the heels would amend the +attention of your ears; and I care not if I do +become your physician. + +FALSTAFF +I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: +your lordship may minister the potion of +imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how +should I be your patient to follow your +prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a +scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. +Lord Chief-Justice I sent for you, when there were matters against you +for your life, to come speak with me. + +FALSTAFF +As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the +laws of this land-service, I did not come. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy. + +FALSTAFF +He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. +Lord Chief-Justice Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. + +FALSTAFF +I would it were otherwise; I would my means were +greater, and my waist slenderer. +Lord Chief-Justice You have misled the youthful prince. + +FALSTAFF +The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow +with the great belly, and he my dog. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your +day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded +over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: you may +thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting +that action. + +FALSTAFF +My lord? +Lord Chief-Justice But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a +sleeping wolf. + +FALSTAFF +To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. +Lord Chief-Justice What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt +out. + +FALSTAFF +A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow: if I did say +of wax, my growth would approve the truth. +Lord Chief-Justice There is not a white hair on your face but should +have his effect of gravity. + +FALSTAFF +His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. +Lord Chief-Justice You follow the young prince up and down, like his +ill angel. + +FALSTAFF +Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but I hope +he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: +and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go: I +cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these +costermonger times that true valour is turned +bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath +his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the +other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of +this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. +You that are old consider not the capacities of us +that are young; you do measure the heat of our +livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we +that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, +are wags too. +Lord Chief-Justice Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, +that are written down old with all the characters of +age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a +yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an +increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your +wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and +every part about you blasted with antiquity? and +will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the +afternoon, with a white head and something a round +belly. For my voice, I have lost it with halloing +and singing of anthems. To approve my youth +further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in +judgment and understanding; and he that will caper +with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the +money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that +the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, +and you took it like a sensible lord. I have +chequed him for it, and the young lion repents; +marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk +and old sack. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God send the prince a better companion! + +FALSTAFF +God send the companion a better prince! I cannot +rid my hands of him. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry: I +hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster +against the Archbishop and the Earl of +Northumberland. + +FALSTAFF +Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look +you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, +that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the +Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean +not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, +and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I +might never spit white again. There is not a +dangerous action can peep out his head but I am +thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but it +was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if +they have a good thing, to make it too common. If +ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give +me rest. I would to God my name were not so +terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be +eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to +nothing with perpetual motion. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your +expedition! + +FALSTAFF +Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to +furnish me forth? +Lord Chief-Justice Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to +bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my +cousin Westmoreland. + +Exeunt Chief-Justice and Servant + +FALSTAFF +If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man +can no more separate age and covetousness than a' +can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout +galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and +so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! + +Page +Sir? + +FALSTAFF +What money is in my purse? + +Page +Seven groats and two pence. + +FALSTAFF +I can get no remedy against this consumption of the +purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, +but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter +to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this +to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old +Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry +since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. +About it: you know where to find me. + +Exit Page + +A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for +the one or the other plays the rogue with my great +toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars +for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more +reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing: +I will turn diseases to commodity. + +Exit + +SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Thus have you heard our cause and known our means; +And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, +Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes: +And first, lord marshal, what say you to it? + +MOWBRAY +I well allow the occasion of our arms; +But gladly would be better satisfied +How in our means we should advance ourselves +To look with forehead bold and big enough +Upon the power and puissance of the king. + +HASTINGS +Our present musters grow upon the file +To five and twenty thousand men of choice; +And our supplies live largely in the hope +Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns +With an incensed fire of injuries. + +LORD BARDOLPH +The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus; +Whether our present five and twenty thousand +May hold up head without Northumberland? + +HASTINGS +With him, we may. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yea, marry, there's the point: +But if without him we be thought too feeble, +My judgment is, we should not step too far +Till we had his assistance by the hand; +For in a theme so bloody-faced as this +Conjecture, expectation, and surmise +Of aids incertain should not be admitted. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed +It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. + +LORD BARDOLPH +It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, +Eating the air on promise of supply, +Flattering himself in project of a power +Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts: +And so, with great imagination +Proper to madmen, led his powers to death +And winking leap'd into destruction. + +HASTINGS +But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt +To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yes, if this present quality of war, +Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot +Lives so in hope as in an early spring +We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit, +Hope gives not so much warrant as despair +That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, +We first survey the plot, then draw the model; +And when we see the figure of the house, +Then must we rate the cost of the erection; +Which if we find outweighs ability, +What do we then but draw anew the model +In fewer offices, or at last desist +To build at all? Much more, in this great work, +Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down +And set another up, should we survey +The plot of situation and the model, +Consent upon a sure foundation, +Question surveyors, know our own estate, +How able such a work to undergo, +To weigh against his opposite; or else +We fortify in paper and in figures, +Using the names of men instead of men: +Like one that draws the model of a house +Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, +Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost +A naked subject to the weeping clouds +And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. + +HASTINGS +Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, +Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd +The utmost man of expectation, +I think we are a body strong enough, +Even as we are, to equal with the king. + +LORD BARDOLPH +What, is the king but five and twenty thousand? + +HASTINGS +To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. +For his divisions, as the times do brawl, +Are in three heads: one power against the French, +And one against Glendower; perforce a third +Must take up us: so is the unfirm king +In three divided; and his coffers sound +With hollow poverty and emptiness. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +That he should draw his several strengths together +And come against us in full puissance, +Need not be dreaded. + +HASTINGS +If he should do so, +He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh +Baying him at the heels: never fear that. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who is it like should lead his forces hither? + +HASTINGS +The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; +Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: +But who is substituted 'gainst the French, +I have no certain notice. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Let us on, +And publish the occasion of our arms. +The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; +Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: +An habitation giddy and unsure +Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. +O thou fond many, with what loud applause +Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, +Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! +And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, +Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, +That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. +So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge +Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; +And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, +And howl'st to find it. What trust is in +these times? +They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, +Are now become enamour'd on his grave: +Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head +When through proud London he came sighing on +After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, +Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again, +And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accursed! +Past and to come seems best; things present worst. + +MOWBRAY +Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? + +HASTINGS +We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Master Fang, have you entered the action? + +FANG +It is entered. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a' +stand to 't? + +FANG +Sirrah, where's Snare? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. + +SNARE +Here, here. + +FANG +Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. + +SNARE +It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in +mine own house, and that most beastly: in good +faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his +weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will +spare neither man, woman, nor child. + +FANG +If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. + +FANG +An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an +infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, +hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not +'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving +your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to +dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to +Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my +exion is entered and my case so openly known to the +world, let him be brought in to his answer. A +hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to +bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and +have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed +off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame +to be thought on. There is no honesty in such +dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a +beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he +comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, +with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master +Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices. + +Enter FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter? + +FANG +Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. + +FALSTAFF +Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the +villain's head: throw the quean in the channel. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the +channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly +rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle +villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the +king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a +honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. + +FALSTAFF +Keep them off, Bardolph. + +FANG +A rescue! a rescue! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't +thou? Thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, +thou hemp-seed! + +FALSTAFF +Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You +fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men + +Lord Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. +Lord Chief-Justice How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here? +Doth this become your place, your time and business? +You should have been well on your way to York. +Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am +a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. +Lord Chief-Justice For what sum? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, +all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; +he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of +his: but I will have some of it out again, or I +will ride thee o' nights like the mare. + +FALSTAFF +I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have +any vantage of ground to get up. +Lord Chief-Justice How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good +temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? +Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so +rough a course to come by her own? + +FALSTAFF +What is the gross sum that I owe thee? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the +money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a +parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, +at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon +Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke +thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of +Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was +washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady +thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife +Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me +gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of +vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; +whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I +told thee they were ill for a green wound? And +didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, +desire me to be no more so familiarity with such +poor people; saying that ere long they should call +me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me +fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy +book-oath: deny it, if thou canst. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up +and down the town that the eldest son is like you: +she hath been in good case, and the truth is, +poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish +officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your +manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It +is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words +that come with such more than impudent sauciness +from you, can thrust me from a level consideration: +you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the +easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her +serve your uses both in purse and in person. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, in truth, my lord. +Lord Chief-Justice Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and +unpay the villany you have done her: the one you +may do with sterling money, and the other with +current repentance. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without +reply. You call honourable boldness impudent +sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say +nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble +duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say +to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, +being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs. +Lord Chief-Justice You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer +in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this +poor woman. + +FALSTAFF +Come hither, hostess. + +Enter GOWER + +Lord Chief-Justice Now, Master Gower, what news? + +GOWER +The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales +Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Faith, you said so before. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain +to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my +dining-chambers. + +FALSTAFF +Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy +walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of +the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, +is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these +fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou +canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's +not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, +and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in +this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I +know thou wast set on to this. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' +faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, +la! + +FALSTAFF +Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a +fool still. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I +hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? + +FALSTAFF +Will I live? + +To BARDOLPH + +Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? + +FALSTAFF +No more words; let's have her. + +Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers and Boy + +Lord Chief-Justice I have heard better news. + +FALSTAFF +What's the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Where lay the king last night? + +GOWER +At Basingstoke, my lord. + +FALSTAFF +I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Come all his forces back? + +GOWER +No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, +Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, +Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. + +FALSTAFF +Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? +Lord Chief-Justice You shall have letters of me presently: +Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. + +FALSTAFF +My lord! +Lord Chief-Justice What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? + +GOWER +I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, +good Sir John. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to +take soldiers up in counties as you go. + +FALSTAFF +Will you sup with me, Master Gower? +Lord Chief-Justice What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool +that taught them me. This is the right fencing +grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. +Lord Chief-Justice Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. Another street. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Before God, I am exceeding weary. + +POINS +Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not +have attached one of so high blood. + +PRINCE HENRY +Faith, it does me; though it discolours the +complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth +it not show vilely in me to desire small beer? + +POINS +Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as +to remember so weak a composition. + +PRINCE HENRY +Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, +by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, +small beer. But, indeed, these humble +considerations make me out of love with my +greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember +thy name! or to know thy face to-morrow! or to +take note how many pair of silk stockings thou +hast, viz. these, and those that were thy +peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy +shirts, as, one for superfluity, and another for +use! But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better +than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when +thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done +a great while, because the rest of thy low +countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: +and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins +of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the +midwives say the children are not in the fault; +whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are +mightily strengthened. + +POINS +How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, +you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good +young princes would do so, their fathers being so +sick as yours at this time is? + +PRINCE HENRY +Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? + +POINS +Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing. + +PRINCE HENRY +It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. + +POINS +Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you +will tell. + +PRINCE HENRY +Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be +sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell +thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a +better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad +indeed too. + +POINS +Very hardly upon such a subject. + +PRINCE HENRY +By this hand thou thinkest me as far in the devil's +book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and +persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell +thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so +sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art +hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. + +POINS +The reason? + +PRINCE HENRY +What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? + +POINS +I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. + +PRINCE HENRY +It would be every man's thought; and thou art a +blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never +a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way +better than thine: every man would think me an +hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most +worshipful thought to think so? + +POINS +Why, because you have been so lewd and so much +engraffed to Falstaff. + +PRINCE HENRY +And to thee. + +POINS +By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it +with my own ears: the worst that they can say of +me is that I am a second brother and that I am a +proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I +confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph. + +Enter BARDOLPH and Page + +PRINCE HENRY +And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from +me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not +transformed him ape. + +BARDOLPH +God save your grace! + +PRINCE HENRY +And yours, most noble Bardolph! + +BARDOLPH +Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you +be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a +maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a +matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead? + +Page +A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red +lattice, and I could discern no part of his face +from the window: at last I spied his eyes, and +methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's +new petticoat and so peeped through. + +PRINCE HENRY +Has not the boy profited? + +BARDOLPH +Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! + +Page +Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away! + +PRINCE HENRY +Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? + +Page +Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was delivered +of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. + +PRINCE HENRY +A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, +boy. + +POINS +O, that this good blossom could be kept from +cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. + +BARDOLPH +An you do not make him hanged among you, the +gallows shall have wrong. + +PRINCE HENRY +And how doth thy master, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH +Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to +town: there's a letter for you. + +POINS +Delivered with good respect. And how doth the +martlemas, your master? + +BARDOLPH +In bodily health, sir. + +POINS +Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but +that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies +not. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my +dog; and he holds his place; for look you how be writes. + +POINS +[Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight,'--every man must +know that, as oft as he has occasion to name +himself: even like those that are kin to the king; +for they never prick their finger but they say, +'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How +comes that?' says he, that takes upon him not to +conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's +cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.' + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it +from Japhet. But to the letter. + +POINS +[Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of +the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of +Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace! + +POINS +[Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in +brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath, +short-winded. 'I commend me to thee, I commend +thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with +Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he +swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent +at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell. +Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to +say, as thou usest him, JACK FALSTAFF with my +familiars, JOHN with my brothers and sisters, +and SIR JOHN with all Europe.' +My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it. + +PRINCE HENRY +That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do +you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? + +POINS +God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the +spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. +Is your master here in London? + +BARDOLPH +Yea, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank? + +BARDOLPH +At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +What company? + +Page +Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sup any women with him? + +Page +None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and +Mistress Doll Tearsheet. + +PRINCE HENRY +What pagan may that be? + +Page +A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's. + +PRINCE HENRY +Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town +bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? + +POINS +I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your +master that I am yet come to town: there's for +your silence. + +BARDOLPH +I have no tongue, sir. + +Page +And for mine, sir, I will govern it. + +PRINCE HENRY +Fare you well; go. + +Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page + +This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. + +POINS +I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint +Alban's and London. + +PRINCE HENRY +How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night +in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? + +POINS +Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait +upon him at his table as drawers. + +PRINCE HENRY +From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was +Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low +transformation! that shall be mine; for in every +thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. +Follow me, Ned. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY +NORTHUMBERLAND +I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, +Give even way unto my rough affairs: +Put not you on the visage of the times +And be like them to Percy troublesome. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I have given over, I will speak no more: +Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; +And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. + +LADY PERCY +O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! +The time was, father, that you broke your word, +When you were more endeared to it than now; +When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, +Threw many a northward look to see his father +Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. +Who then persuaded you to stay at home? +There were two honours lost, yours and your son's. +For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! +For his, it stuck upon him as the sun +In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light +Did all the chivalry of England move +To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass +Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves: +He had no legs that practised not his gait; +And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, +Became the accents of the valiant; +For those that could speak low and tardily +Would turn their own perfection to abuse, +To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait, +In diet, in affections of delight, +In military rules, humours of blood, +He was the mark and glass, copy and book, +That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him! +O miracle of men! him did you leave, +Second to none, unseconded by you, +To look upon the hideous god of war +In disadvantage; to abide a field +Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name +Did seem defensible: so you left him. +Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong +To hold your honour more precise and nice +With others than with him! let them alone: +The marshal and the archbishop are strong: +Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, +To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, +Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew your heart, +Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me +With new lamenting ancient oversights. +But I must go and meet with danger there, +Or it will seek me in another place +And find me worse provided. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, fly to Scotland, +Till that the nobles and the armed commons +Have of their puissance made a little taste. + +LADY PERCY +If they get ground and vantage of the king, +Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, +To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, +First let them try themselves. So did your son; +He was so suffer'd: so came I a widow; +And never shall have length of life enough +To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, +That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, +For recordation to my noble husband. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind +As with the tide swell'd up unto his height, +That makes a still-stand, running neither way: +Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, +But many thousand reasons hold me back. +I will resolve for Scotland: there am I, +Till time and vantage crave my company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap. + +Enter two Drawers +First Drawer +What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? +thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john. + +Second Drawer +Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish +of apple-johns before him, and told him there were +five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said +'I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, +old, withered knights.' It angered him to the +heart: but he hath forgot that. + +First Drawer +Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if +thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress +Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the +room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight. + +Second Drawer +Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins +anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and +aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph +hath brought word. + +First Drawer +By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an +excellent stratagem. + +Second Drawer +I'll see if I can find out Sneak. + +Exit + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an +excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as +extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your +colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good +truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much +canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, +and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's +this?' How do you now? + +DOLL TEARSHEET +Better than I was: hem! + +The Life of King Henry the Fifth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry V | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend +The brightest heaven of invention, +A kingdom for a stage, princes to act +And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! +Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, +Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, +Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire +Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, +The flat unraised spirits that have dared +On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth +So great an object: can this cockpit hold +The vasty fields of France? or may we cram +Within this wooden O the very casques +That did affright the air at Agincourt? +O, pardon! since a crooked figure may +Attest in little place a million; +And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, +On your imaginary forces work. +Suppose within the girdle of these walls +Are now confined two mighty monarchies, +Whose high upreared and abutting fronts +The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: +Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; +Into a thousand parts divide on man, +And make imaginary puissance; +Think when we talk of horses, that you see them +Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth; +For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, +Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, +Turning the accomplishment of many years +Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, +Admit me Chorus to this history; +Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, +Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY +CANTERBURY +My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged, +Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign +Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, +But that the scambling and unquiet time +Did push it out of farther question. + +ELY +But how, my lord, shall we resist it now? + +CANTERBURY +It must be thought on. If it pass against us, +We lose the better half of our possession: +For all the temporal lands which men devout +By testament have given to the church +Would they strip from us; being valued thus: +As much as would maintain, to the king's honour, +Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, +Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; +And, to relief of lazars and weak age, +Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil. +A hundred almshouses right well supplied; +And to the coffers of the king beside, +A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill. + +ELY +This would drink deep. + +CANTERBURY +'Twould drink the cup and all. + +ELY +But what prevention? + +CANTERBURY +The king is full of grace and fair regard. + +ELY +And a true lover of the holy church. + +CANTERBURY +The courses of his youth promised it not. +The breath no sooner left his father's body, +But that his wildness, mortified in him, +Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment +Consideration, like an angel, came +And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, +Leaving his body as a paradise, +To envelop and contain celestial spirits. +Never was such a sudden scholar made; +Never came reformation in a flood, +With such a heady currance, scouring faults +Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness +So soon did lose his seat and all at once +As in this king. + +ELY +We are blessed in the change. + +CANTERBURY +Hear him but reason in divinity, +And all-admiring with an inward wish +You would desire the king were made a prelate: +Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, +You would say it hath been all in all his study: +List his discourse of war, and you shall hear +A fearful battle render'd you in music: +Turn him to any cause of policy, +The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, +Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, +The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, +And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, +To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences; +So that the art and practic part of life +Must be the mistress to this theoric: +Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it, +Since his addiction was to courses vain, +His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow, +His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports, +And never noted in him any study, +Any retirement, any sequestration +From open haunts and popularity. + +ELY +The strawberry grows underneath the nettle +And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best +Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality: +And so the prince obscured his contemplation +Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, +Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, +Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. + +CANTERBURY +It must be so; for miracles are ceased; +And therefore we must needs admit the means +How things are perfected. + +ELY +But, my good lord, +How now for mitigation of this bill +Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty +Incline to it, or no? + +CANTERBURY +He seems indifferent, +Or rather swaying more upon our part +Than cherishing the exhibiters against us; +For I have made an offer to his majesty, +Upon our spiritual convocation +And in regard of causes now in hand, +Which I have open'd to his grace at large, +As touching France, to give a greater sum +Than ever at one time the clergy yet +Did to his predecessors part withal. + +ELY +How did this offer seem received, my lord? + +CANTERBURY +With good acceptance of his majesty; +Save that there was not time enough to hear, +As I perceived his grace would fain have done, +The severals and unhidden passages +Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms +And generally to the crown and seat of France +Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather. + +ELY +What was the impediment that broke this off? + +CANTERBURY +The French ambassador upon that instant +Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come +To give him hearing: is it four o'clock? + +ELY +It is. + +CANTERBURY +Then go we in, to know his embassy; +Which I could with a ready guess declare, +Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. + +ELY +I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber. + +Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants +KING HENRY V +Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury? + +EXETER +Not here in presence. + +KING HENRY V +Send for him, good uncle. + +WESTMORELAND +Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege? + +KING HENRY V +Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved, +Before we hear him, of some things of weight +That task our thoughts, concerning us and France. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY + +CANTERBURY +God and his angels guard your sacred throne +And make you long become it! + +KING HENRY V +Sure, we thank you. +My learned lord, we pray you to proceed +And justly and religiously unfold +Why the law Salique that they have in France +Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim: +And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, +That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading, +Or nicely charge your understanding soul +With opening titles miscreate, whose right +Suits not in native colours with the truth; +For God doth know how many now in health +Shall drop their blood in approbation +Of what your reverence shall incite us to. +Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, +How you awake our sleeping sword of war: +We charge you, in the name of God, take heed; +For never two such kingdoms did contend +Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops +Are every one a woe, a sore complaint +'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords +That make such waste in brief mortality. +Under this conjuration, speak, my lord; +For we will hear, note and believe in heart +That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd +As pure as sin with baptism. + +CANTERBURY +Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers, +That owe yourselves, your lives and services +To this imperial throne. There is no bar +To make against your highness' claim to France +But this, which they produce from Pharamond, +'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:' +'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:' +Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze +To be the realm of France, and Pharamond +The founder of this law and female bar. +Yet their own authors faithfully affirm +That the land Salique is in Germany, +Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe; +Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons, +There left behind and settled certain French; +Who, holding in disdain the German women +For some dishonest manners of their life, +Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female +Should be inheritrix in Salique land: +Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala, +Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen. +Then doth it well appear that Salique law +Was not devised for the realm of France: +Nor did the French possess the Salique land +Until four hundred one and twenty years +After defunction of King Pharamond, +Idly supposed the founder of this law; +Who died within the year of our redemption +Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great +Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French +Beyond the river Sala, in the year +Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, +King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, +Did, as heir general, being descended +Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, +Make claim and title to the crown of France. +Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown +Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male +Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, +To find his title with some shows of truth, +'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught, +Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare, +Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son +To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son +Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, +Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, +Could not keep quiet in his conscience, +Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied +That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, +Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, +Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine: +By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great +Was re-united to the crown of France. +So that, as clear as is the summer's sun. +King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim, +King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear +To hold in right and title of the female: +So do the kings of France unto this day; +Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law +To bar your highness claiming from the female, +And rather choose to hide them in a net +Than amply to imbar their crooked titles +Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. + +KING HENRY V +May I with right and conscience make this claim? + +CANTERBURY +The sin upon my head, dread sovereign! +For in the book of Numbers is it writ, +When the man dies, let the inheritance +Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, +Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag; +Look back into your mighty ancestors: +Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, +From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit, +And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, +Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy, +Making defeat on the full power of France, +Whiles his most mighty father on a hill +Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp +Forage in blood of French nobility. +O noble English. that could entertain +With half their forces the full Pride of France +And let another half stand laughing by, +All out of work and cold for action! + +ELY +Awake remembrance of these valiant dead +And with your puissant arm renew their feats: +You are their heir; you sit upon their throne; +The blood and courage that renowned them +Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege +Is in the very May-morn of his youth, +Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. + +EXETER +Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth +Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, +As did the former lions of your blood. + +WESTMORELAND +They know your grace hath cause and means and might; +So hath your highness; never king of England +Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects, +Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England +And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France. + +CANTERBURY +O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, +With blood and sword and fire to win your right; +In aid whereof we of the spiritualty +Will raise your highness such a mighty sum +As never did the clergy at one time +Bring in to any of your ancestors. + +KING HENRY V +We must not only arm to invade the French, +But lay down our proportions to defend +Against the Scot, who will make road upon us +With all advantages. + +CANTERBURY +They of those marches, gracious sovereign, +Shall be a wall sufficient to defend +Our inland from the pilfering borderers. + +KING HENRY V +We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, +But fear the main intendment of the Scot, +Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us; +For you shall read that my great-grandfather +Never went with his forces into France +But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom +Came pouring, like the tide into a breach, +With ample and brim fulness of his force, +Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, +Girding with grievous siege castles and towns; +That England, being empty of defence, +Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood. + +CANTERBURY +She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege; +For hear her but exampled by herself: +When all her chivalry hath been in France +And she a mourning widow of her nobles, +She hath herself not only well defended +But taken and impounded as a stray +The King of Scots; whom she did send to France, +To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings +And make her chronicle as rich with praise +As is the ooze and bottom of the sea +With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries. + +WESTMORELAND +But there's a saying very old and true, +'If that you will France win, +Then with Scotland first begin:' +For once the eagle England being in prey, +To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot +Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs, +Playing the mouse in absence of the cat, +To tear and havoc more than she can eat. + +EXETER +It follows then the cat must stay at home: +Yet that is but a crush'd necessity, +Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, +And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. +While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, +The advised head defends itself at home; +For government, though high and low and lower, +Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, +Congreeing in a full and natural close, +Like music. + +CANTERBURY +Therefore doth heaven divide +The state of man in divers functions, +Setting endeavour in continual motion; +To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, +Obedience: for so work the honey-bees, +Creatures that by a rule in nature teach +The act of order to a peopled kingdom. +They have a king and officers of sorts; +Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, +Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, +Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, +Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, +Which pillage they with merry march bring home +To the tent-royal of their emperor; +Who, busied in his majesty, surveys +The singing masons building roofs of gold, +The civil citizens kneading up the honey, +The poor mechanic porters crowding in +Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, +The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, +Delivering o'er to executors pale +The lazy yawning drone. I this infer, +That many things, having full reference +To one consent, may work contrariously: +As many arrows, loosed several ways, +Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town; +As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea; +As many lines close in the dial's centre; +So may a thousand actions, once afoot. +End in one purpose, and be all well borne +Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege. +Divide your happy England into four; +Whereof take you one quarter into France, +And you withal shall make all Gallia shake. +If we, with thrice such powers left at home, +Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, +Let us be worried and our nation lose +The name of hardiness and policy. + +KING HENRY V +Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help, +And yours, the noble sinews of our power, +France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe, +Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit, +Ruling in large and ample empery +O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, +Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, +Tombless, with no remembrance over them: +Either our history shall with full mouth +Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, +Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, +Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph. + +Enter Ambassadors of France + +Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure +Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear +Your greeting is from him, not from the king. + +First Ambassador +May't please your majesty to give us leave +Freely to render what we have in charge; +Or shall we sparingly show you far off +The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? + +KING HENRY V +We are no tyrant, but a Christian king; +Unto whose grace our passion is as subject +As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons: +Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness +Tell us the Dauphin's mind. + +First Ambassador +Thus, then, in few. +Your highness, lately sending into France, +Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right +Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. +In answer of which claim, the prince our master +Says that you savour too much of your youth, +And bids you be advised there's nought in France +That can be with a nimble galliard won; +You cannot revel into dukedoms there. +He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, +This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, +Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim +Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks. + +KING HENRY V +What treasure, uncle? + +EXETER +Tennis-balls, my liege. + +KING HENRY V +We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; +His present and your pains we thank you for: +When we have march'd our rackets to these balls, +We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set +Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. +Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler +That all the courts of France will be disturb'd +With chaces. And we understand him well, +How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, +Not measuring what use we made of them. +We never valued this poor seat of England; +And therefore, living hence, did give ourself +To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common +That men are merriest when they are from home. +But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, +Be like a king and show my sail of greatness +When I do rouse me in my throne of France: +For that I have laid by my majesty +And plodded like a man for working-days, +But I will rise there with so full a glory +That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, +Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. +And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his +Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul +Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance +That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows +Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands; +Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; +And some are yet ungotten and unborn +That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn. +But this lies all within the will of God, +To whom I do appeal; and in whose name +Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, +To venge me as I may and to put forth +My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause. +So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin +His jest will savour but of shallow wit, +When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. +Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well. + +Exeunt Ambassadors + +EXETER +This was a merry message. + +KING HENRY V +We hope to make the sender blush at it. +Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour +That may give furtherance to our expedition; +For we have now no thought in us but France, +Save those to God, that run before our business. +Therefore let our proportions for these wars +Be soon collected and all things thought upon +That may with reasonable swiftness add +More feathers to our wings; for, God before, +We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door. +Therefore let every man now task his thought, +That this fair action may on foot be brought. + +Exeunt. Flourish + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now all the youth of England are on fire, +And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies: +Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought +Reigns solely in the breast of every man: +They sell the pasture now to buy the horse, +Following the mirror of all Christian kings, +With winged heels, as English Mercuries. +For now sits Expectation in the air, +And hides a sword from hilts unto the point +With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets, +Promised to Harry and his followers. +The French, advised by good intelligence +Of this most dreadful preparation, +Shake in their fear and with pale policy +Seek to divert the English purposes. +O England! model to thy inward greatness, +Like little body with a mighty heart, +What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, +Were all thy children kind and natural! +But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out +A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills +With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men, +One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second, +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, +Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland, +Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed! +Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France; +And by their hands this grace of kings must die, +If hell and treason hold their promises, +Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. +Linger your patience on; and we'll digest +The abuse of distance; force a play: +The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; +The king is set from London; and the scene +Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton; +There is the playhouse now, there must you sit: +And thence to France shall we convey you safe, +And bring you back, charming the narrow seas +To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, +We'll not offend one stomach with our play. +But, till the king come forth, and not till then, +Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH +BARDOLPH +Well met, Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH +What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet? + +NYM +For my part, I care not: I say little; but when +time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that +shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will +wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but +what though? it will toast cheese, and it will +endure cold as another man's sword will: and +there's an end. + +BARDOLPH +I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and +we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it +be so, good Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the +certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I +will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the +rendezvous of it. + +BARDOLPH +It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell +Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you +were troth-plight to her. + +NYM +I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may +sleep, and they may have their throats about them at +that time; and some say knives have edges. It must +be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet +she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I +cannot tell. + +Enter PISTOL and Hostess + +BARDOLPH +Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good +corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol! + +PISTOL +Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand, +I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. + +Hostess +No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and +board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live +honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will +be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. + +NYM and PISTOL draw + +O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we +shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. + +BARDOLPH +Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. + +NYM +Pish! + +PISTOL +Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland! + +Hostess +Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. + +NYM +Will you shog off? I would have you solus. + +PISTOL +'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile! +The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face; +The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat, +And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy, +And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! +I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels; +For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, +And flashing fire will follow. + +NYM +I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an +humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow +foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my +rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk +off, I would prick your guts a little, in good +terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +O braggart vile and damned furious wight! +The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; +Therefore exhale. + +BARDOLPH +Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the +first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. + +Draws + +PISTOL +An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. +Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give: +Thy spirits are most tall. + +NYM +I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair +terms: that is the humour of it. + +PISTOL +'Couple a gorge!' +That is the word. I thee defy again. +O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? +No; to the spital go, +And from the powdering tub of infamy +Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, +Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse: +I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly +For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. Go to. + +Enter the Boy + +Boy +Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and +you, hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. +Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and +do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. + +BARDOLPH +Away, you rogue! + +Hostess +By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of +these days. The king has killed his heart. Good +husband, come home presently. + +Exeunt Hostess and Boy + +BARDOLPH +Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to +France together: why the devil should we keep +knives to cut one another's throats? + +PISTOL +Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! + +NYM +You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +Base is the slave that pays. + +NYM +That now I will have: that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +As manhood shall compound: push home. + +They draw + +BARDOLPH +By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll +kill him; by this sword, I will. + +PISTOL +Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. + +BARDOLPH +Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: +an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. +Prithee, put up. + +NYM +I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +A noble shalt thou have, and present pay; +And liquor likewise will I give to thee, +And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood: +I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me; +Is not this just? for I shall sutler be +Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. +Give me thy hand. + +NYM +I shall have my noble? + +PISTOL +In cash most justly paid. + +NYM +Well, then, that's the humour of't. + +Re-enter Hostess + +Hostess +As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir +John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning +quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to +behold. Sweet men, come to him. + +NYM +The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's +the even of it. + +PISTOL +Nym, thou hast spoke the right; +His heart is fracted and corroborate. + +NYM +The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; +he passes some humours and careers. + +PISTOL +Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live. + +SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber. + +Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND +BEDFORD +'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. + +EXETER +They shall be apprehended by and by. + +WESTMORELAND +How smooth and even they do bear themselves! +As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, +Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. + +BEDFORD +The king hath note of all that they intend, +By interception which they dream not of. + +EXETER +Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, +Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours, +That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell +His sovereign's life to death and treachery. + +Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants + +KING HENRY V +Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. +My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham, +And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts: +Think you not that the powers we bear with us +Will cut their passage through the force of France, +Doing the execution and the act +For which we have in head assembled them? + +SCROOP +No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. + +KING HENRY V +I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded +We carry not a heart with us from hence +That grows not in a fair consent with ours, +Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish +Success and conquest to attend on us. + +CAMBRIDGE +Never was monarch better fear'd and loved +Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject +That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness +Under the sweet shade of your government. + +GREY +True: those that were your father's enemies +Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you +With hearts create of duty and of zeal. + +KING HENRY V +We therefore have great cause of thankfulness; +And shall forget the office of our hand, +Sooner than quittance of desert and merit +According to the weight and worthiness. + +SCROOP +So service shall with steeled sinews toil, +And labour shall refresh itself with hope, +To do your grace incessant services. + +KING HENRY V +We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter, +Enlarge the man committed yesterday, +That rail'd against our person: we consider +it was excess of wine that set him on; +And on his more advice we pardon him. + +SCROOP +That's mercy, but too much security: +Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example +Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. + +KING HENRY V +O, let us yet be merciful. + +CAMBRIDGE +So may your highness, and yet punish too. + +GREY +Sir, +You show great mercy, if you give him life, +After the taste of much correction. + +KING HENRY V +Alas, your too much love and care of me +Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch! +If little faults, proceeding on distemper, +Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye +When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested, +Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, +Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care +And tender preservation of our person, +Would have him punished. And now to our French causes: +Who are the late commissioners? + +CAMBRIDGE +I one, my lord: +Your highness bade me ask for it to-day. + +SCROOP +So did you me, my liege. + +GREY +And I, my royal sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours; +There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight, +Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: +Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. +My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, +We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen! +What see you in those papers that you lose +So much complexion? Look ye, how they change! +Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there +That hath so cowarded and chased your blood +Out of appearance? + +CAMBRIDGE +I do confess my fault; +And do submit me to your highness' mercy. + +GREY SCROOP +To which we all appeal. + +KING HENRY V +The mercy that was quick in us but late, +By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: +You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy; +For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, +As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. +See you, my princes, and my noble peers, +These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here, +You know how apt our love was to accord +To furnish him with all appertinents +Belonging to his honour; and this man +Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired, +And sworn unto the practises of France, +To kill us here in Hampton: to the which +This knight, no less for bounty bound to us +Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O, +What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel, +Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature! +Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels, +That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, +That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold, +Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use, +May it be possible, that foreign hire +Could out of thee extract one spark of evil +That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange, +That, though the truth of it stands off as gross +As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. +Treason and murder ever kept together, +As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose, +Working so grossly in a natural cause, +That admiration did not whoop at them: +But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in +Wonder to wait on treason and on murder: +And whatsoever cunning fiend it was +That wrought upon thee so preposterously +Hath got the voice in hell for excellence: +All other devils that suggest by treasons +Do botch and bungle up damnation +With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd +From glistering semblances of piety; +But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up, +Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason, +Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. +If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus +Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, +He might return to vasty Tartar back, +And tell the legions 'I can never win +A soul so easy as that Englishman's.' +O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected +The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? +Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned? +Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family? +Why, so didst thou: seem they religious? +Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet, +Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, +Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, +Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, +Not working with the eye without the ear, +And but in purged judgment trusting neither? +Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: +And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, +To mark the full-fraught man and best indued +With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; +For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like +Another fall of man. Their faults are open: +Arrest them to the answer of the law; +And God acquit them of their practises! + +EXETER +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Richard Earl of Cambridge. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. + +SCROOP +Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; +And I repent my fault more than my death; +Which I beseech your highness to forgive, +Although my body pay the price of it. + +CAMBRIDGE +For me, the gold of France did not seduce; +Although I did admit it as a motive +The sooner to effect what I intended: +But God be thanked for prevention; +Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, +Beseeching God and you to pardon me. + +GREY +Never did faithful subject more rejoice +At the discovery of most dangerous treason +Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself. +Prevented from a damned enterprise: +My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. +You have conspired against our royal person, +Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers +Received the golden earnest of our death; +Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, +His princes and his peers to servitude, +His subjects to oppression and contempt +And his whole kingdom into desolation. +Touching our person seek we no revenge; +But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, +Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws +We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, +Poor miserable wretches, to your death: +The taste whereof, God of his mercy give +You patience to endure, and true repentance +Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence. + +Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, guarded + +Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof +Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. +We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, +Since God so graciously hath brought to light +This dangerous treason lurking in our way +To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now +But every rub is smoothed on our way. +Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver +Our puissance into the hand of God, +Putting it straight in expedition. +Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: +No king of England, if not king of France. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. + +Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy +Hostess +Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. + +PISTOL +No; for my manly heart doth yearn. +Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: +Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, +And we must yearn therefore. + +BARDOLPH +Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in +heaven or in hell! + +Hostess +Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's +bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made +a finer end and went away an it had been any +christom child; a' parted even just between twelve +and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after +I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with +flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew +there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as +a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now, +sir John!' quoth I 'what, man! be o' good +cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or +four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' +should not think of God; I hoped there was no need +to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So +a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my +hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as +cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and +they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and +upward, and all was as cold as any stone. + +NYM +They say he cried out of sack. + +Hostess +Ay, that a' did. + +BARDOLPH +And of women. + +Hostess +Nay, that a' did not. + +Boy +Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils +incarnate. + +Hostess +A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he +never liked. + +Boy +A' said once, the devil would have him about women. + +Hostess +A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then +he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. + +Boy +Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon +Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul +burning in hell-fire? + +BARDOLPH +Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: +that's all the riches I got in his service. + +NYM +Shall we shog? the king will be gone from +Southampton. + +PISTOL +Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. +Look to my chattels and my movables: +Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' +Trust none; +For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, +And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: +Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. +Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, +Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, +To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! + +Boy +And that's but unwholesome food they say. + +PISTOL +Touch her soft mouth, and march. + +BARDOLPH +Farewell, hostess. + +Kissing her + +NYM +I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. + +PISTOL +Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. + +Hostess +Farewell; adieu. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace. + +Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others +KING OF FRANCE +Thus comes the English with full power upon us; +And more than carefully it us concerns +To answer royally in our defences. +Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, +Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, +And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, +To line and new repair our towns of war +With men of courage and with means defendant; +For England his approaches makes as fierce +As waters to the sucking of a gulf. +It fits us then to be as provident +As fear may teach us out of late examples +Left by the fatal and neglected English +Upon our fields. + +DAUPHIN +My most redoubted father, +It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; +For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, +Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, +But that defences, musters, preparations, +Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, +As were a war in expectation. +Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth +To view the sick and feeble parts of France: +And let us do it with no show of fear; +No, with no more than if we heard that England +Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: +For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, +Her sceptre so fantastically borne +By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, +That fear attends her not. + +Constable +O peace, Prince Dauphin! +You are too much mistaken in this king: +Question your grace the late ambassadors, +With what great state he heard their embassy, +How well supplied with noble counsellors, +How modest in exception, and withal +How terrible in constant resolution, +And you shall find his vanities forespent +Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, +Covering discretion with a coat of folly; +As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots +That shall first spring and be most delicate. + +DAUPHIN +Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; +But though we think it so, it is no matter: +In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh +The enemy more mighty than he seems: +So the proportions of defence are fill'd; +Which of a weak or niggardly projection +Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting +A little cloth. + +KING OF FRANCE +Think we King Harry strong; +And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. +The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; +And he is bred out of that bloody strain +That haunted us in our familiar paths: +Witness our too much memorable shame +When Cressy battle fatally was struck, +And all our princes captiv'd by the hand +Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; +Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, +Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, +Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, +Mangle the work of nature and deface +The patterns that by God and by French fathers +Had twenty years been made. This is a stem +Of that victorious stock; and let us fear +The native mightiness and fate of him. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Ambassadors from Harry King of England +Do crave admittance to your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. + +Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords + +You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. + +DAUPHIN +Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs +Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten +Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, +Take up the English short, and let them know +Of what a monarchy you are the head: +Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin +As self-neglecting. + +Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train + +KING OF FRANCE +From our brother England? + +EXETER +From him; and thus he greets your majesty. +He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, +That you divest yourself, and lay apart +The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, +By law of nature and of nations, 'long +To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown +And all wide-stretched honours that pertain +By custom and the ordinance of times +Unto the crown of France. That you may know +'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, +Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, +Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, +He sends you this most memorable line, +In every branch truly demonstrative; +Willing to overlook this pedigree: +And when you find him evenly derived +From his most famed of famous ancestors, +Edward the Third, he bids you then resign +Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held +From him the native and true challenger. + +KING OF FRANCE +Or else what follows? + +EXETER +Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown +Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: +Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, +In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, +That, if requiring fail, he will compel; +And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, +Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy +On the poor souls for whom this hungry war +Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head +Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries +The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans, +For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, +That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. +This is his claim, his threatening and my message; +Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, +To whom expressly I bring greeting too. + +KING OF FRANCE +For us, we will consider of this further: +To-morrow shall you bear our full intent +Back to our brother England. + +DAUPHIN +For the Dauphin, +I stand here for him: what to him from England? + +EXETER +Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, +And any thing that may not misbecome +The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. +Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness +Do not, in grant of all demands at large, +Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, +He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, +That caves and womby vaultages of France +Shall chide your trespass and return your mock +In second accent of his ordnance. + +DAUPHIN +Say, if my father render fair return, +It is against my will; for I desire +Nothing but odds with England: to that end, +As matching to his youth and vanity, +I did present him with the Paris balls. + +EXETER +He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, +Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: +And, be assured, you'll find a difference, +As we his subjects have in wonder found, +Between the promise of his greener days +And these he masters now: now he weighs time +Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read +In your own losses, if he stay in France. + +KING OF FRANCE +To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. + +EXETER +Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king +Come here himself to question our delay; +For he is footed in this land already. + +KING OF FRANCE +You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions: +A night is but small breath and little pause +To answer matters of this consequence. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT III +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies +In motion of no less celerity +Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen +The well-appointed king at Hampton pier +Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet +With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: +Play with your fancies, and in them behold +Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; +Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give +To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails, +Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, +Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, +Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think +You stand upon the ravage and behold +A city on the inconstant billows dancing; +For so appears this fleet majestical, +Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow: +Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, +And leave your England, as dead midnight still, +Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women, +Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance; +For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd +With one appearing hair, that will not follow +These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? +Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; +Behold the ordnance on their carriages, +With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. +Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back; +Tells Harry that the king doth offer him +Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry, +Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. +The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner +With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, + +Alarum, and chambers go off + +And down goes all before them. Still be kind, +And eke out our performance with your mind. + +Exit + +SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders +KING HENRY V +Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; +Or close the wall up with our English dead. +In peace there's nothing so becomes a man +As modest stillness and humility: +But when the blast of war blows in our ears, +Then imitate the action of the tiger; +Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, +Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; +Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; +Let pry through the portage of the head +Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it +As fearfully as doth a galled rock +O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, +Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. +Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, +Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit +To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. +Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! +Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, +Have in these parts from morn till even fought +And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: +Dishonour not your mothers; now attest +That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. +Be copy now to men of grosser blood, +And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, +Whose limbs were made in England, show us here +The mettle of your pasture; let us swear +That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; +For there is none of you so mean and base, +That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. +I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, +Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: +Follow your spirit, and upon this charge +Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' + +Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy +BARDOLPH +On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach! + +NYM +Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot; +and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: +the humour of it is too hot, that is the very +plain-song of it. + +PISTOL +The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound: +Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die; +And sword and shield, +In bloody field, +Doth win immortal fame. + +Boy +Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give +all my fame for a pot of ale and safety. + +PISTOL +And I: +If wishes would prevail with me, +My purpose should not fail with me, +But thither would I hie. + +Boy +As duly, but not as truly, +As bird doth sing on bough. + +Enter FLUELLEN + +FLUELLEN +Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions! + +Driving them forward + +PISTOL +Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould. +Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage, +Abate thy rage, great duke! +Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck! + +NYM +These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours. + +Exeunt all but Boy + +Boy +As young as I am, I have observed these three +swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they +three, though they would serve me, could not be man +to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to +a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and +red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but +fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue +and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks +words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath +heard that men of few words are the best men; and +therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a' +should be thought a coward: but his few bad words +are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never +broke any man's head but his own, and that was +against a post when he was drunk. They will steal +any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a +lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for +three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn +brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a +fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the +men would carry coals. They would have me as +familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their +handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, +if I should take from another's pocket to put into +mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I +must leave them, and seek some better service: +their villany goes against my weak stomach, and +therefore I must cast it up. + +Exit + +Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following + +GOWER +Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the +mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you. + +FLUELLEN +To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good +to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is +not according to the disciplines of the war: the +concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, +the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look +you, is digt himself four yard under the +countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up +all, if there is not better directions. + +GOWER +The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the +siege is given, is altogether directed by an +Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith. + +FLUELLEN +It is Captain Macmorris, is it not? + +GOWER +I think it be. + +FLUELLEN +By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will +verify as much in his beard: be has no more +directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look +you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog. + +Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY + +GOWER +Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman, +that is certain; and of great expedition and +knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular +knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will +maintain his argument as well as any military man in +the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars +of the Romans. + +JAMY +I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN +God-den to your worship, good Captain James. + +GOWER +How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the +mines? have the pioneers given o'er? + +MACMORRIS +By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give +over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I +swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; +it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so +Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done, +tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done! + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you +voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, +as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of +the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, +look you, and friendly communication; partly to +satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, +look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of +the military discipline; that is the point. + +JAMY +It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: +and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick +occasion; that sall I, marry. + +MACMORRIS +It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the +day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the +king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The +town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the +breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing: +'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to +stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is +throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there +ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la! + +JAMY +By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves +to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i' +the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay +'t as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do, +that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full +fain hear some question 'tween you tway. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your +correction, there is not many of your nation-- + +MACMORRIS +Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, +and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish +my nation? Who talks of my nation? + +FLUELLEN +Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is +meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think +you do not use me with that affability as in +discretion you ought to use me, look you: being as +good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of +war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in +other particularities. + +MACMORRIS +I do not know you so good a man as myself: so +Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. + +GOWER +Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. + +JAMY +A! that's a foul fault. + +A parley sounded + +GOWER +The town sounds a parley. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, when there is more better +opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so +bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; +and there is an end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the gates. + +The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train +KING HENRY V +How yet resolves the governor of the town? +This is the latest parle we will admit; +Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves; +Or like to men proud of destruction +Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier, +A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, +If I begin the battery once again, +I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur +Till in her ashes she lie buried. +The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, +And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, +In liberty of bloody hand shall range +With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass +Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. +What is it then to me, if impious war, +Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends, +Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats +Enlink'd to waste and desolation? +What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, +If your pure maidens fall into the hand +Of hot and forcing violation? +What rein can hold licentious wickedness +When down the hill he holds his fierce career? +We may as bootless spend our vain command +Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil +As send precepts to the leviathan +To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, +Take pity of your town and of your people, +Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; +Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace +O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds +Of heady murder, spoil and villany. +If not, why, in a moment look to see +The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand +Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; +Your fathers taken by the silver beards, +And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls, +Your naked infants spitted upon pikes, +Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused +Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry +At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. +What say you? will you yield, and this avoid, +Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd? + +GOVERNOR +Our expectation hath this day an end: +The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated, +Returns us that his powers are yet not ready +To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king, +We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. +Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours; +For we no longer are defensible. + +KING HENRY V +Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter, +Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain, +And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French: +Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle, +The winter coming on and sickness growing +Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais. +To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest; +To-morrow for the march are we addrest. + +Flourish. The King and his train enter the town + +SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace. + +Enter KATHARINE and ALICE +KATHARINE +Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage. + +ALICE +Un peu, madame. + +KATHARINE +Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a +parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois? + +ALICE +La main? elle est appelee de hand. + +KATHARINE +De hand. Et les doigts? + +ALICE +Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me +souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont +appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres. + +KATHARINE +La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense +que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots +d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles? + +ALICE +Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails. + +KATHARINE +De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de +hand, de fingres, et de nails. + +ALICE +C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. + +KATHARINE +Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras. + +ALICE +De arm, madame. + +KATHARINE +Et le coude? + +ALICE +De elbow. + +KATHARINE +De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les +mots que vous m'avez appris des a present. + +ALICE +Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. + +KATHARINE +Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres, +de nails, de arma, de bilbow. + +ALICE +De elbow, madame. + +KATHARINE +O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment +appelez-vous le col? + +ALICE +De neck, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nick. Et le menton? + +ALICE +De chin. + +KATHARINE +De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin. + +ALICE +Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez +les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. + +KATHARINE +Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, +et en peu de temps. + +ALICE +N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne? + +KATHARINE +Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de +fingres, de mails-- + +ALICE +De nails, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nails, de arm, de ilbow. + +ALICE +Sauf votre honneur, de elbow. + +KATHARINE +Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment +appelez-vous le pied et la robe? + +ALICE +De foot, madame; et de coun. + +KATHARINE +De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots +de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et +non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais +prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France +pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le coun! +Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon +ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de +elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun. + +ALICE +Excellent, madame! + +KATHARINE +C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others +KING OF FRANCE +'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme. + +Constable +And if he be not fought withal, my lord, +Let us not live in France; let us quit all +And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. + +DAUPHIN +O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, +The emptying of our fathers' luxury, +Our scions, put in wild and savage stock, +Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, +And overlook their grafters? + +BOURBON +Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! +Mort de ma vie! if they march along +Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, +To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm +In that nook-shotten isle of Albion. + +Constable +Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle? +Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull, +On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, +Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, +A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth, +Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? +And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, +Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land, +Let us not hang like roping icicles +Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people +Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! +Poor we may call them in their native lords. + +DAUPHIN +By faith and honour, +Our madams mock at us, and plainly say +Our mettle is bred out and they will give +Their bodies to the lust of English youth +To new-store France with bastard warriors. + +BOURBON +They bid us to the English dancing-schools, +And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos; +Saying our grace is only in our heels, +And that we are most lofty runaways. + +KING OF FRANCE +Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence: +Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. +Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged +More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: +Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; +You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, +Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; +Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, +Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg, +Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; +High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights, +For your great seats now quit you of great shames. +Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land +With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur: +Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow +Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat +The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon: +Go down upon him, you have power enough, +And in a captive chariot into Rouen +Bring him our prisoner. + +Constable +This becomes the great. +Sorry am I his numbers are so few, +His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march, +For I am sure, when he shall see our army, +He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear +And for achievement offer us his ransom. + +KING OF FRANCE +Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy. +And let him say to England that we send +To know what willing ransom he will give. +Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen. + +DAUPHIN +Not so, I do beseech your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +Be patient, for you shall remain with us. +Now forth, lord constable and princes all, +And quickly bring us word of England's fall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy. + +Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting +GOWER +How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge? + +FLUELLEN +I assure you, there is very excellent services +committed at the bridge. + +GOWER +Is the Duke of Exeter safe? + +FLUELLEN +The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; +and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my +heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and +my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and +blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the +bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. +There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the +pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as +valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no +estimation in the world; but did see him do as +gallant service. + +GOWER +What do you call him? + +FLUELLEN +He is called Aunchient Pistol. + +GOWER +I know him not. + +Enter PISTOL + +FLUELLEN +Here is the man. + +PISTOL +Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: +The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well. + +FLUELLEN +Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at +his hands. + +PISTOL +Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, +And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate, +And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, +That goddess blind, +That stands upon the rolling restless stone-- + +FLUELLEN +By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is +painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to +signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is +painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which +is the moral of it, that she is turning, and +inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her +foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, +which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth, +the poet makes a most excellent description of it: +Fortune is an excellent moral. + +PISTOL +Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; +For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be: +A damned death! +Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free +And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate: +But Exeter hath given the doom of death +For pax of little price. +Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice: +And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut +With edge of penny cord and vile reproach: +Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. + +FLUELLEN +Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning. + +The First part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Westminster Abbey. + +Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, & c +BEDFORD +Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! +Comets, importing change of times and states, +Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, +And with them scourge the bad revolting stars +That have consented unto Henry's death! +King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! +England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + +GLOUCESTER +England ne'er had a king until his time. +Virtue he had, deserving to command: +His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams: +His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; +His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire, +More dazzled and drove back his enemies +Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces. +What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech: +He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + +EXETER +We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood? +Henry is dead and never shall revive: +Upon a wooden coffin we attend, +And death's dishonourable victory +We with our stately presence glorify, +Like captives bound to a triumphant car. +What! shall we curse the planets of mishap +That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? +Or shall we think the subtle-witted French +Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him +By magic verses have contrived his end? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. +Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day +So dreadful will not be as was his sight. +The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: +The church's prayers made him so prosperous. + +GLOUCESTER +The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, +His thread of life had not so soon decay'd: +None do you like but an effeminate prince, +Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector +And lookest to command the prince and realm. +Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, +More than God or religious churchmen may. + +GLOUCESTER +Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh, +And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st +Except it be to pray against thy foes. + +BEDFORD +Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace: +Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us: +Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms: +Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead. +Posterity, await for wretched years, +When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck, +Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, +And none but women left to wail the dead. +Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: +Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, +Combat with adverse planets in the heavens! +A far more glorious star thy soul will make +Than Julius Caesar or bright-- + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My honourable lords, health to you all! +Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, +Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: +Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, +Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. + +BEDFORD +What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? +Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns +Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + +GLOUCESTER +Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? +If Henry were recall'd to life again, +These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. + +EXETER +How were they lost? what treachery was used? + +Messenger +No treachery; but want of men and money. +Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, +That here you maintain several factions, +And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought, +You are disputing of your generals: +One would have lingering wars with little cost; +Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; +A third thinks, without expense at all, +By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. +Awake, awake, English nobility! +Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot: +Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; +Of England's coat one half is cut away. + +EXETER +Were our tears wanting to this funeral, +These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. + +BEDFORD +Me they concern; Regent I am of France. +Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France. +Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! +Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, +To weep their intermissive miseries. + +Enter to them another Messenger + +Messenger +Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. +France is revolted from the English quite, +Except some petty towns of no import: +The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims; +The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; +Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; +The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. + +EXETER +The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! +O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + +GLOUCESTER +We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats. +Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. + +BEDFORD +Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? +An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, +Wherewith already France is overrun. + +Enter another Messenger + +Messenger +My gracious lords, to add to your laments, +Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, +I must inform you of a dismal fight +Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? + +Messenger +O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: +The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. +The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, +Retiring from the siege of Orleans, +Having full scarce six thousand in his troop. +By three and twenty thousand of the French +Was round encompassed and set upon. +No leisure had he to enrank his men; +He wanted pikes to set before his archers; +Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges +They pitched in the ground confusedly, +To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. +More than three hours the fight continued; +Where valiant Talbot above human thought +Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: +Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; +Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew: +The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms; +All the whole army stood agazed on him: +His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit +A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain +And rush'd into the bowels of the battle. +Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up, +If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward: +He, being in the vaward, placed behind +With purpose to relieve and follow them, +Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. +Hence grew the general wreck and massacre; +Enclosed were they with their enemies: +A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, +Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, +Whom all France with their chief assembled strength +Durst not presume to look once in the face. + +BEDFORD +Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, +For living idly here in pomp and ease, +Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, +Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. + +Messenger +O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, +And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford: +Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. + +BEDFORD +His ransom there is none but I shall pay: +I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne: +His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; +Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. +Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; +Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, +To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: +Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, +Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. + +Messenger +So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; +The English army is grown weak and faint: +The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, +And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, +Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. + +EXETER +Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, +Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, +Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + +BEDFORD +I do remember it; and here take my leave, +To go about my preparation. + +Exit + +GLOUCESTER +I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, +To view the artillery and munition; +And then I will proclaim young Henry king. + +Exit + +EXETER +To Eltham will I, where the young king is, +Being ordain'd his special governor, +And for his safety there I'll best devise. + +Exit + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Each hath his place and function to attend: +I am left out; for me nothing remains. +But long I will not be Jack out of office: +The king from Eltham I intend to steal +And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. France. Before Orleans. + +Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers +CHARLES +Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens +So in the earth, to this day is not known: +Late did he shine upon the English side; +Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. +What towns of any moment but we have? +At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; +Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, +Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + +ALENCON +They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: +Either they must be dieted like mules +And have their provender tied to their mouths +Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + +REIGNIER +Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here? +Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: +Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury; +And he may well in fretting spend his gall, +Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + +CHARLES +Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them. +Now for the honour of the forlorn French! +Him I forgive my death that killeth me +When he sees me go back one foot or fly. + +Exeunt + +Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER + +CHARLES +Who ever saw the like? what men have I! +Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled, +But that they left me 'midst my enemies. + +REIGNIER +Salisbury is a desperate homicide; +He fighteth as one weary of his life. +The other lords, like lions wanting food, +Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + +ALENCON +Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, +England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, +During the time Edward the Third did reign. +More truly now may this be verified; +For none but Samsons and Goliases +It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! +Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose +They had such courage and audacity? + +CHARLES +Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves, +And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: +Of old I know them; rather with their teeth +The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + +REIGNIER +I think, by some odd gimmors or device +Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on; +Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. +By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + +ALENCON +Be it so. + +Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + +CHARLES +Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd: +Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? +Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand: +A holy maid hither with me I bring, +Which by a vision sent to her from heaven +Ordained is to raise this tedious siege +And drive the English forth the bounds of France. +The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, +Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: +What's past and what's to come she can descry. +Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, +For they are certain and unfallible. + +CHARLES +Go, call her in. + +Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +But first, to try her skill, +Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place: +Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern: +By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + +Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE + +REIGNIER +Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? +Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; +I know thee well, though never seen before. +Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me: +In private will I talk with thee apart. +Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. + +REIGNIER +She takes upon her bravely at first dash. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, +My wit untrain'd in any kind of art. +Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased +To shine on my contemptible estate: +Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, +And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, +God's mother deigned to appear to me +And in a vision full of majesty +Will'd me to leave my base vocation +And free my country from calamity: +Her aid she promised and assured success: +In complete glory she reveal'd herself; +And, whereas I was black and swart before, +With those clear rays which she infused on me +That beauty am I bless'd with which you see. +Ask me what question thou canst possible, +And I will answer unpremeditated: +My courage try by combat, if thou darest, +And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. +Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate, +If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + +CHARLES +Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms: +Only this proof I'll of thy valour make, +In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, +And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; +Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword, +Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; +The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's +churchyard, +Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + +CHARLES +Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. + +Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes + +CHARLES +Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon +And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. + +CHARLES +Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: +Impatiently I burn with thy desire; +My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. +Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, +Let me thy servant and not sovereign be: +'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I must not yield to any rites of love, +For my profession's sacred from above: +When I have chased all thy foes from hence, +Then will I think upon a recompense. + +CHARLES +Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + +REIGNIER +My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + +ALENCON +Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; +Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + +REIGNIER +Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + +ALENCON +He may mean more than we poor men do know: +These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. + +REIGNIER +My lord, where are you? what devise you on? +Shall we give over Orleans, or no? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! +Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. + +CHARLES +What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Assign'd am I to be the English scourge. +This night the siege assuredly I'll raise: +Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, +Since I have entered into these wars. +Glory is like a circle in the water, +Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself +Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. +With Henry's death the English circle ends; +Dispersed are the glories it included. +Now am I like that proud insulting ship +Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + +CHARLES +Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? +Thou with an eagle art inspired then. +Helen, the mother of great Constantine, +Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee. +Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth, +How may I reverently worship thee enough? + +ALENCON +Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + +REIGNIER +Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; +Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized. + +CHARLES +Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it: +No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before the Tower. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats +GLOUCESTER +I am come to survey the Tower this day: +Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. +Where be these warders, that they wait not here? +Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. + +First Warder +[Within] Who's there that knocks so imperiously? +First Serving-Man It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + +Second Warder +[Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. +First Serving-Man Villains, answer you so the lord protector? + +First Warder +[Within] The Lord protect him! so we answer him: +We do no otherwise than we are will'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? +There's none protector of the realm but I. +Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize. +Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? + +Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within + +WOODVILE +What noise is this? what traitors have we here? + +GLOUCESTER +Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? +Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter. + +WOODVILE +Have patience, noble duke; I may not open; +The Cardinal of Winchester forbids: +From him I have express commandment +That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + +GLOUCESTER +Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me? +Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate, +Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook? +Thou art no friend to God or to the king: +Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. +Serving-Men Open the gates unto the lord protector, +Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. + +Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this? + +GLOUCESTER +Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +I do, thou most usurping proditor, +And not protector, of the king or realm. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, +Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord; +Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin: +I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, +If thou proceed in this thy insolence. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: +This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, +To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back: +Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth +I'll use to carry thee out of this place. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face. + +GLOUCESTER +What! am I dared and bearded to my face? +Draw, men, for all this privileged place; +Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard, +I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly: +Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat: +In spite of pope or dignities of church, +Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope. + +GLOUCESTER +Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope! +Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay? +Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array. +Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite! + +Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly- burly the Mayor of London and his Officers + +Mayor +Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, +Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + +GLOUCESTER +Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: +Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, +Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, +One that still motions war and never peace, +O'ercharging your free purses with large fines, +That seeks to overthrow religion, +Because he is protector of the realm, +And would have armour here out of the Tower, +To crown himself king and suppress the prince. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not answer thee with words, but blows. + +Here they skirmish again + +Mayor +Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife +But to make open proclamation: +Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst, +Cry. + +Officer +All manner of men assembled here in arms this day +against God's peace and the king's, we charge and +command you, in his highness' name, to repair to +your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, +handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger, +henceforward, upon pain of death. + +GLOUCESTER +Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: +But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure: +Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. + +Mayor +I'll call for clubs, if you will not away. +This cardinal's more haughty than the devil. + +GLOUCESTER +Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head; +For I intend to have it ere long. + +Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF WINCHESTER with their Serving-men + +Mayor +See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart. +Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear! +I myself fight not once in forty year. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Orleans. + +Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy +Master-Gunner Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged, +And how the English have the suburbs won. + +Boy +Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, +Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim. +Master-Gunner But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me: +Chief master-gunner am I of this town; +Something I must do to procure me grace. +The prince's espials have informed me +How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd, +Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars +In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, +And thence discover how with most advantage +They may vex us with shot, or with assault. +To intercept this inconvenience, +A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed; +And even these three days have I watch'd, +If I could see them. +Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer. +If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; +And thou shalt find me at the governor's. + +Exit + +Boy +Father, I warrant you; take you no care; +I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. + +Exit + +Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT, GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others + +SALISBURY +Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! +How wert thou handled being prisoner? +Or by what means got'st thou to be released? +Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + +TALBOT +The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner +Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; +For him was I exchanged and ransomed. +But with a baser man of arms by far +Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: +Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death, +Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd. +In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. +But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart, +Whom with my bare fists I would execute, +If I now had him brought into my power. + +SALISBURY +Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd. + +TALBOT +With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. +In open market-place produced they me, +To be a public spectacle to all: +Here, said they, is the terror of the French, +The scarecrow that affrights our children so. +Then broke I from the officers that led me, +And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground, +To hurl at the beholders of my shame: +My grisly countenance made others fly; +None durst come near for fear of sudden death. +In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; +So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread, +That they supposed I could rend bars of steel, +And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: +Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, +That walked about me every minute-while; +And if I did but stir out of my bed, +Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + +Enter the Boy with a linstock + +SALISBURY +I grieve to hear what torments you endured, +But we will be revenged sufficiently +Now it is supper-time in Orleans: +Here, through this grate, I count each one +and view the Frenchmen how they fortify: +Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale, +Let me have your express opinions +Where is best place to make our battery next. + +GARGRAVE +I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords. + +GLANSDALE +And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + +TALBOT +For aught I see, this city must be famish'd, +Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. + +Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall + +SALISBURY +O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + +GARGRAVE +O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man! + +TALBOT +What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? +Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak: +How farest thou, mirror of all martial men? +One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! +Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand +That hath contrived this woful tragedy! +In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; +Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; +Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, +His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. +Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, +One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: +The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. +Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, +If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! +Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? +Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. +Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort; +Thou shalt not die whiles-- +He beckons with his hand and smiles on me. +As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, +Remember to avenge me on the French.' +Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, +Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: +Wretched shall France be only in my name. + +Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens + +What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? +Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head: +The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, +A holy prophetess new risen up, +Is come with a great power to raise the siege. + +Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans + +TALBOT +Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! +It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. +Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you: +Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, +Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels, +And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. +Convey me Salisbury into his tent, +And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them then re-enter TALBOT +TALBOT +Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? +Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: +A woman clad in armour chaseth them. + +Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE + +Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee; +Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: +Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, +And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. + +Here they fight + +TALBOT +Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? +My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage +And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder. +But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. + +They fight again + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: +I must go victual Orleans forthwith. + +A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers + +O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. +Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; +Help Salisbury to make his testament: +This day is ours, as many more shall be. + +Exit + +TALBOT +My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; +I know not where I am, nor what I do; +A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, +Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: +So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench +Are from their hives and houses driven away. +They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; +Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. + +A short alarum + +Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, +Or tear the lions out of England's coat; +Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: +Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, +Or horse or oxen from the leopard, +As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. + +Alarum. Here another skirmish + +It will not be: retire into your trenches: +You all consented unto Salisbury's death, +For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. +Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans, +In spite of us or aught that we could do. +O, would I were to die with Salisbury! +The shame hereof will make me hide my head. + +Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish + +SCENE VI. The same. + +Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Advance our waving colours on the walls; +Rescued is Orleans from the English +Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. + +CHARLES +Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, +How shall I honour thee for this success? +Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens +That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. +France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! +Recover'd is the town of Orleans: +More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + +REIGNIER +Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? +Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires +And feast and banquet in the open streets, +To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + +ALENCON +All France will be replete with mirth and joy, +When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. + +CHARLES +'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; +For which I will divide my crown with her, +And all the priests and friars in my realm +Shall in procession sing her endless praise. +A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear +Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: +In memory of her when she is dead, +Her ashes, in an urn more precious +Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius, +Transported shall be at high festivals +Before the kings and queens of France. +No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, +But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. +Come in, and let us banquet royally, +After this golden day of victory. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Before Orleans. + +Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels +Sergeant +Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: +If any noise or soldier you perceive +Near to the walls, by some apparent sign +Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + +First Sentinel +Sergeant, you shall. + +Exit Sergeant + +Thus are poor servitors, +When others sleep upon their quiet beds, +Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march + +TALBOT +Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, +By whose approach the regions of Artois, +Wallon and Picardy are friends to us, +This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, +Having all day caroused and banqueted: +Embrace we then this opportunity +As fitting best to quittance their deceit +Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. + +BEDFORD +Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame, +Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, +To join with witches and the help of hell! + +BURGUNDY +Traitors have never other company. +But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + +TALBOT +A maid, they say. + +BEDFORD +A maid! and be so martial! + +BURGUNDY +Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, +If underneath the standard of the French +She carry armour as she hath begun. + +TALBOT +Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: +God is our fortress, in whose conquering name +Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + +BEDFORD +Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. + +TALBOT +Not all together: better far, I guess, +That we do make our entrance several ways; +That, if it chance the one of us do fail, +The other yet may rise against their force. + +BEDFORD +Agreed: I'll to yond corner. + +BURGUNDY +And I to this. + +TALBOT +And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. +Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right +Of English Henry, shall this night appear +How much in duty I am bound to both. + +Sentinels +Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault! + +Cry: 'St. George,' 'A Talbot.' + +The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready + +ALENCON +How now, my lords! what, all unready so? + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well. + +REIGNIER +'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, +Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. + +ALENCON +Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms, +Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise +More venturous or desperate than this. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + +REIGNIER +If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. + +ALENCON +Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard. + +Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE + +CHARLES +Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? +Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, +Make us partakers of a little gain, +That now our loss might be ten times so much? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend! +At all times will you have my power alike? +Sleeping or waking must I still prevail, +Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? +Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good, +This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + +CHARLES +Duke of Alencon, this was your default, +That, being captain of the watch to-night, +Did look no better to that weighty charge. + +ALENCON +Had all your quarters been as safely kept +As that whereof I had the government, +We had not been thus shamefully surprised. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Mine was secure. + +REIGNIER +And so was mine, my lord. + +CHARLES +And, for myself, most part of all this night, +Within her quarter and mine own precinct +I was employ'd in passing to and fro, +About relieving of the sentinels: +Then how or which way should they first break in? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Question, my lords, no further of the case, +How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place +But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. +And now there rests no other shift but this; +To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed, +And lay new platforms to endamage them. + +Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their clothes behind + +Soldier +I'll be so bold to take what they have left. +The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; +For I have loaden me with many spoils, +Using no other weapon but his name. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Orleans. Within the town. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others +BEDFORD +The day begins to break, and night is fled, +Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. +Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. + +Retreat sounded + +TALBOT +Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, +And here advance it in the market-place, +The middle centre of this cursed town. +Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; +For every drop of blood was drawn from him, +There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight. +And that hereafter ages may behold +What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, +Within their chiefest temple I'll erect +A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: +Upon the which, that every one may read, +Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans, +The treacherous manner of his mournful death +And what a terror he had been to France. +But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, +I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, +His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, +Nor any of his false confederates. + +BEDFORD +'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, +Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, +They did amongst the troops of armed men +Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + +BURGUNDY +Myself, as far as I could well discern +For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, +Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, +When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, +Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves +That could not live asunder day or night. +After that things are set in order here, +We'll follow them with all the power we have. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +All hail, my lords! which of this princely train +Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts +So much applauded through the realm of France? + +TALBOT +Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him? + +Messenger +The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, +With modesty admiring thy renown, +By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe +To visit her poor castle where she lies, +That she may boast she hath beheld the man +Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + +BURGUNDY +Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars +Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, +When ladies crave to be encounter'd with. +You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + +TALBOT +Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men +Could not prevail with all their oratory, +Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled: +And therefore tell her I return great thanks, +And in submission will attend on her. +Will not your honours bear me company? + +BEDFORD +No, truly; it is more than manners will: +And I have heard it said, unbidden guests +Are often welcomest when they are gone. + +TALBOT +Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, +I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. +Come hither, captain. + +Whispers + +You perceive my mind? + +Captain +I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle. + +Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Porter, remember what I gave in charge; +And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + +Porter +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, +I shall as famous be by this exploit +As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. +Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight, +And his achievements of no less account: +Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, +To give their censure of these rare reports. + +Enter Messenger and TALBOT + +Messenger +Madam, +According as your ladyship desired, +By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +And he is welcome. What! is this the man? + +Messenger +Madam, it is. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Is this the scourge of France? +Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad +That with his name the mothers still their babes? +I see report is fabulous and false: +I thought I should have seen some Hercules, +A second Hector, for his grim aspect, +And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. +Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! +It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp +Should strike such terror to his enemies. + +TALBOT +Madam, I have been bold to trouble you; +But since your ladyship is not at leisure, +I'll sort some other time to visit you. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. + +Messenger +Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves +To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + +TALBOT +Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, +I go to certify her Talbot's here. + +Re-enter Porter with keys + +COUNTESS + +The Second part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 2 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL, on the one side; QUEEN MARGARET, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other +SUFFOLK +As by your high imperial majesty +I had in charge at my depart for France, +As procurator to your excellence, +To marry Princess Margaret for your grace, +So, in the famous ancient city, Tours, +In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, +The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and Alencon, +Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops, +I have perform'd my task and was espoused: +And humbly now upon my bended knee, +In sight of England and her lordly peers, +Deliver up my title in the queen +To your most gracious hands, that are the substance +Of that great shadow I did represent; +The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, +The fairest queen that ever king received. + +KING HENRY VI +Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret: +I can express no kinder sign of love +Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life, +Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! +For thou hast given me in this beauteous face +A world of earthly blessings to my soul, +If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great King of England and my gracious lord, +The mutual conference that my mind hath had, +By day, by night, waking and in my dreams, +In courtly company or at my beads, +With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign, +Makes me the bolder to salute my king +With ruder terms, such as my wit affords +And over-joy of heart doth minister. + +KING HENRY VI +Her sight did ravish; but her grace in speech, +Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, +Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys; +Such is the fulness of my heart's content. +Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. + +ALL +[Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's +happiness! + +QUEEN MARGARET +We thank you all. + +Flourish + +SUFFOLK +My lord protector, so it please your grace, +Here are the articles of contracted peace +Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, +For eighteen months concluded by consent. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'Imprimis, it is agreed between the French +king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of +Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that +the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, +daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and +Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the +thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy +of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released +and delivered to the king her father'-- + +Lets the paper fall + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, how now! + +GLOUCESTER +Pardon me, gracious lord; +Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart +And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. + +CARDINAL +[Reads] 'Item, It is further agreed between them, +that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be +released and delivered over to the king her father, +and she sent over of the King of England's own +proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.' + +KING HENRY VI +They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down: +We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk, +And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York, +We here discharge your grace from being regent +I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months +Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester, +Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, +Salisbury, and Warwick; +We thank you all for the great favour done, +In entertainment to my princely queen. +Come, let us in, and with all speed provide +To see her coronation be perform'd. + +Exeunt KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and SUFFOLK + +GLOUCESTER +Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, +To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, +Your grief, the common grief of all the land. +What! did my brother Henry spend his youth, +His valour, coin and people, in the wars? +Did he so often lodge in open field, +In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, +To conquer France, his true inheritance? +And did my brother Bedford toil his wits, +To keep by policy what Henry got? +Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, +Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, +Received deep scars in France and Normandy? +Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, +With all the learned council of the realm, +Studied so long, sat in the council-house +Early and late, debating to and fro +How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, +And had his highness in his infancy +Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? +And shall these labours and these honours die? +Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance, +Your deeds of war and all our counsel die? +O peers of England, shameful is this league! +Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, +Blotting your names from books of memory, +Razing the characters of your renown, +Defacing monuments of conquer'd France, +Undoing all, as all had never been! + +CARDINAL +Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, +This peroration with such circumstance? +For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can; +But now it is impossible we should: +Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, +Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine +Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style +Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. + +SALISBURY +Now, by the death of Him that died for all, +These counties were the keys of Normandy. +But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son? + +WARWICK +For grief that they are past recovery: +For, were there hope to conquer them again, +My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. +Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both; +Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer: +And are the cities, that I got with wounds, +Delivered up again with peaceful words? +Mort Dieu! + +YORK +For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate, +That dims the honour of this warlike isle! +France should have torn and rent my very heart, +Before I would have yielded to this league. +I never read but England's kings have had +Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives: +And our King Henry gives away his own, +To match with her that brings no vantages. + +GLOUCESTER +A proper jest, and never heard before, +That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth +For costs and charges in transporting her! +She should have stayed in France and starved +in France, Before-- + +CARDINAL +My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot: +It was the pleasure of my lord the King. + +GLOUCESTER +My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind; +'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, +But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye. +Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face +I see thy fury: if I longer stay, +We shall begin our ancient bickerings. +Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone, +I prophesied France will be lost ere long. + +Exit + +CARDINAL +So, there goes our protector in a rage. +'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, +Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, +And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. +Consider, lords, he is the next of blood, +And heir apparent to the English crown: +Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, +And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west, +There's reason he should be displeased at it. +Look to it, lords! let not his smoothing words +Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect. +What though the common people favour him, +Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of +Gloucester,' +Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice, +'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!' +With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!' +I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss, +He will be found a dangerous protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why should he, then, protect our sovereign, +He being of age to govern of himself? +Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, +And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, +We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat. + +CARDINAL +This weighty business will not brook delay: +I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. + +Exit + +SOMERSET +Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride +And greatness of his place be grief to us, +Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal: +His insolence is more intolerable +Than all the princes in the land beside: +If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector, +Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal. + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET + +SALISBURY +Pride went before, ambition follows him. +While these do labour for their own preferment, +Behoves it us to labour for the realm. +I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester +Did bear him like a noble gentleman. +Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, +More like a soldier than a man o' the church, +As stout and proud as he were lord of all, +Swear like a ruffian and demean himself +Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. +Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, +Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping, +Hath won the greatest favour of the commons, +Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey: +And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, +In bringing them to civil discipline, +Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, +When thou wert regent for our sovereign, +Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people: +Join we together, for the public good, +In what we can, to bridle and suppress +The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal, +With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; +And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds, +While they do tend the profit of the land. + +WARWICK +So God help Warwick, as he loves the land, +And common profit of his country! + +YORK +[Aside] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause. + +SALISBURY +Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main. + +WARWICK +Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost; +That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, +And would have kept so long as breath did last! +Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, +Which I will win from France, or else be slain, + +Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY + +YORK +Anjou and Maine are given to the French; +Paris is lost; the state of Normandy +Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: +Suffolk concluded on the articles, +The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased +To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. +I cannot blame them all: what is't to them? +'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. +Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage +And purchase friends and give to courtezans, +Still revelling like lords till all be gone; +While as the silly owner of the goods +Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands +And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof, +While all is shared and all is borne away, +Ready to starve and dare not touch his own: +So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue, +While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold. +Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland +Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood +As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd +Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. +Anjou and Maine both given unto the French! +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, +Even as I have of fertile England's soil. +A day will come when York shall claim his own; +And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts +And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, +And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, +For that's the golden mark I seek to hit: +Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, +Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist, +Nor wear the diadem upon his head, +Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown. +Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve: +Watch thou and wake when others be asleep, +To pry into the secrets of the state; +Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love, +With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, +And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars: +Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, +With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed; +And in my standard bear the arms of York +To grapple with the house of Lancaster; +And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown, +Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down. + +Exit + +SCENE II. GLOUCESTER'S house. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS +DUCHESS +Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn, +Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? +Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, +As frowning at the favours of the world? +Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth, +Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? +What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem, +Enchased with all the honours of the world? +If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, +Until thy head be circled with the same. +Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold. +What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine: +And, having both together heaved it up, +We'll both together lift our heads to heaven, +And never more abase our sight so low +As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. + +GLOUCESTER +O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, +Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts. +And may that thought, when I imagine ill +Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, +Be my last breathing in this mortal world! +My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. + +DUCHESS +What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it +With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. + +GLOUCESTER +Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, +Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot, +But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; +And on the pieces of the broken wand +Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, +And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. +This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows. + +DUCHESS +Tut, this was nothing but an argument +That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove +Shall lose his head for his presumption. +But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: +Methought I sat in seat of majesty +In the cathedral church of Westminster, +And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd; +Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me +And on my head did set the diadem. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: +Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, +Art thou not second woman in the realm, +And the protector's wife, beloved of him? +Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, +Above the reach or compass of thy thought? +And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, +To tumble down thy husband and thyself +From top of honour to disgrace's feet? +Away from me, and let me hear no more! + +DUCHESS +What, what, my lord! are you so choleric +With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? +Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself, +And not be cheque'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again. + +Enter Messenger + +Messenger +My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure +You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, +Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk. + +GLOUCESTER +I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? + +DUCHESS +Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger + +Follow I must; I cannot go before, +While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. +Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, +I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks +And smooth my way upon their headless necks; +And, being a woman, I will not be slack +To play my part in Fortune's pageant. +Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, +We are alone; here's none but thee and I. + +Enter HUME + +HUME +Jesus preserve your royal majesty! + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace. + +HUME +But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice, +Your grace's title shall be multiplied. + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd +With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, +With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? +And will they undertake to do me good? + +HUME +This they have promised, to show your highness +A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, +That shall make answer to such questions +As by your grace shall be propounded him. + +DUCHESS +It is enough; I'll think upon the questions: +When from St. Alban's we do make return, +We'll see these things effected to the full. +Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, +With thy confederates in this weighty cause. + +Exit + +HUME +Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold; +Marry, and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume! +Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum: +The business asketh silent secrecy. +Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: +Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. +Yet have I gold flies from another coast; +I dare not say, from the rich cardinal +And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, +Yet I do find it so; for to be plain, +They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, +Have hired me to undermine the duchess +And buz these conjurations in her brain. +They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker;' +Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. +Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near +To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. +Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last +Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck, +And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall: +Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the Armourer's man, being one +First Petitioner +My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector +will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver +our supplications in the quill. + +Second Petitioner +Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! +Jesu bless him! + +Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET + +PETER +Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. +I'll be the first, sure. + +Second Petitioner +Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and +not my lord protector. + +SUFFOLK +How now, fellow! would'st anything with me? + +First Petitioner +I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord +protector. + +QUEEN MARGARET +[Reading] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your +supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: +what is thine? + +First Petitioner +Mine is, an't please your grace, against John +Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my +house, and lands, and wife and all, from me. + +SUFFOLK +Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's +yours? What's here! + +Reads + +'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the +commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave! + +Second Petitioner +Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. + +PETER +[Giving his petition] Against my master, Thomas +Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful +heir to the crown. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What sayst thou? did the Duke of York say he was +rightful heir to the crown? + +PETER +That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said +that he was, and that the king was an usurper. + +SUFFOLK +Who is there? + +Enter Servant + +Take this fellow in, and send for +his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear +more of your matter before the King. + +Exit Servant with PETER + +QUEEN MARGARET +And as for you, that love to be protected +Under the wings of our protector's grace, +Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. + +Tears the supplication + +Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go. + +ALL +Come, let's be gone. + +Exeunt + +QUEEN MARGARET +My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, +Is this the fashion in the court of England? +Is this the government of Britain's isle, +And this the royalty of Albion's king? +What shall King Henry be a pupil still +Under the surly Gloucester's governance? +Am I a queen in title and in style, +And must be made a subject to a duke? +I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours +Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love +And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, +I thought King Henry had resembled thee +In courage, courtship and proportion: +But all his mind is bent to holiness, +To number Ave-Maries on his beads; +His champions are the prophets and apostles, +His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, +His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves +Are brazen images of canonized saints. +I would the college of the cardinals +Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome, +And set the triple crown upon his head: +That were a state fit for his holiness. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, be patient: as I was cause +Your highness came to England, so will I +In England work your grace's full content. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort, +The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, +And grumbling York: and not the least of these +But can do more in England than the king. + +SUFFOLK +And he of these that can do most of all +Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: +Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Not all these lords do vex me half so much +As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. +She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, +More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife: +Strangers in court do take her for the queen: +She bears a duke's revenues on her back, +And in her heart she scorns our poverty: +Shall I not live to be avenged on her? +Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, +She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, +The very train of her worst wearing gown +Was better worth than all my father's lands, +Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, +And placed a quire of such enticing birds, +That she will light to listen to the lays, +And never mount to trouble you again. +So, let her rest: and, madam, list to me; +For I am bold to counsel you in this. +Although we fancy not the cardinal, +Yet must we join with him and with the lords, +Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. +As for the Duke of York, this late complaint +Will make but little for his benefit. +So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, +And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and the DUCHESS + +KING HENRY VI +For my part, noble lords, I care not which; +Or Somerset or York, all's one to me. + +YORK +If York have ill demean'd himself in France, +Then let him be denay'd the regentship. + +SOMERSET +If Somerset be unworthy of the place, +Let York be regent; I will yield to him. + +WARWICK +Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no, +Dispute not that: York is the worthier. + +CARDINAL +Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. + +WARWICK +The cardinal's not my better in the field. + +BUCKINGHAM +All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. + +WARWICK +Warwick may live to be the best of all. + +SALISBURY +Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham, +Why Somerset should be preferred in this. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Because the king, forsooth, will have it so. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, the king is old enough himself +To give his censure: these are no women's matters. + +QUEEN MARGARET +If he be old enough, what needs your grace +To be protector of his excellence? + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, I am protector of the realm; +And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. + +SUFFOLK +Resign it then and leave thine insolence. +Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?-- +The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck; +The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas; +And all the peers and nobles of the realm +Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. + +CARDINAL +The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags +Are lank and lean with thy extortions. + +SOMERSET +Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire +Have cost a mass of public treasury. + +BUCKINGHAM +Thy cruelty in execution +Upon offenders, hath exceeded law, +And left thee to the mercy of the law. + +QUEEN MARGARET +They sale of offices and towns in France, +If they were known, as the suspect is great, +Would make thee quickly hop without thy head. + +Exit GLOUCESTER. QUEEN MARGARET drops her fan + +Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not? + +She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear + +I cry you mercy, madam; was it you? + +DUCHESS +Was't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman: +Could I come near your beauty with my nails, +I'd set my ten commandments in your face. + +KING HENRY VI +Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will. + +DUCHESS +Against her will! good king, look to't in time; +She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby: +Though in this place most master wear no breeches, +She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. + +Exit + +BUCKINGHAM +Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, +And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds: +She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs, +She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. + +Exit + +Re-enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Now, lords, my choler being over-blown +With walking once about the quadrangle, +I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. +As for your spiteful false objections, +Prove them, and I lie open to the law: +But God in mercy so deal with my soul, +As I in duty love my king and country! +But, to the matter that we have in hand: +I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man +To be your regent in the realm of France. + +SUFFOLK +Before we make election, give me leave +To show some reason, of no little force, +That York is most unmeet of any man. + +YORK +I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: +First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; +Next, if I be appointed for the place, +My Lord of Somerset will keep me here, +Without discharge, money, or furniture, +Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands: +Last time, I danced attendance on his will +Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost. + +WARWICK +That can I witness; and a fouler fact +Did never traitor in the land commit. + +SUFFOLK +Peace, headstrong Warwick! + +WARWICK +Image of pride, why should I hold my peace? + +Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man PETER, guarded + +SUFFOLK +Because here is a man accused of treason: +Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself! + +YORK +Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? + +KING HENRY VI +What mean'st thou, Suffolk; tell me, what are these? + +SUFFOLK +Please it your majesty, this is the man +That doth accuse his master of high treason: +His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York, +Was rightful heir unto the English crown +And that your majesty was a usurper. + +KING HENRY VI +Say, man, were these thy words? + +HORNER +An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor +thought any such matter: God is my witness, I am +falsely accused by the villain. + +PETER +By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to +me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my +Lord of York's armour. + +YORK +Base dunghill villain and mechanical, +I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech. +I do beseech your royal majesty, +Let him have all the rigor of the law. + +HORNER +Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words. +My accuser is my 'prentice; and when I did correct +him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his +knees he would be even with me: I have good +witness of this: therefore I beseech your majesty, +do not cast away an honest man for a villain's +accusation. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? + +GLOUCESTER +This doom, my lord, if I may judge: +Let Somerset be regent over the French, +Because in York this breeds suspicion: +And let these have a day appointed them +For single combat in convenient place, +For he hath witness of his servant's malice: +This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. + +SOMERSET +I humbly thank your royal majesty. + +HORNER +And I accept the combat willingly. + +PETER +Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity +my case. The spite of man prevaileth against me. O +Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to +fight a blow. O Lord, my heart! + +GLOUCESTER +Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd. + +KING HENRY VI +Away with them to prison; and the day of combat +shall be the last of the next month. Come, +Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. GLOUCESTER's garden. + +Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE +HUME +Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects +performance of your promises. + +BOLINGBROKE +Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her +ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? + +HUME +Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. + +BOLINGBROKE +I have heard her reported to be a woman of an +invincible spirit: but it shall be convenient, +Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be +busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in God's name, +and leave us. + +Exit HUME + +Mother Jourdain, be you +prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, +read you; and let us to our work. + +Enter the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following + +DUCHESS +Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this +gear the sooner the better. + +BOLINGBROKE +Patience, good lady; wizards know their times: +Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, +The time of night when Troy was set on fire; +The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl, +And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves, +That time best fits the work we have in hand. +Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise, +We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. + +Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, & c. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth + +Spirit +Adsum. + +MARGARET JOURDAIN +Asmath, +By the eternal God, whose name and power +Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; +For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence. + +Spirit +Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! + +BOLINGBROKE +'First of the king: what shall of him become?' + +Reading out of a paper + +Spirit +The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death. + +As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer + +BOLINGBROKE +'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?' + +Spirit +By water shall he die, and take his end. + +BOLINGBROKE +'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?' + +Spirit +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Have done, for more I hardly can endure. + +BOLINGBROKE +Descend to darkness and the burning lake! +False fiend, avoid! + +Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit + +Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guard and break in + +YORK +Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. +Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch. +What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal +Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains: +My lord protector will, I doubt it not, +See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts. + +DUCHESS +Not half so bad as thine to England's king, +Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, madam, none at all: what call you this? +Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close. +And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us. +Stafford, take her to thee. + +Exeunt above DUCHESS and HUME, guarded + +We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming. +All, away! + +Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, & c + +YORK +Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well: +A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon! +Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ. +What have we here? + +Reads + +'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death.' +Why, this is just +'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.' +Well, to the rest: +'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk? +By water shall he die, and take his end. +What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand.' +Come, come, my lords; +These oracles are hardly attain'd, +And hardly understood. +The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's, +With him the husband of this lovely lady: +Thither go these news, as fast as horse can +carry them: +A sorry breakfast for my lord protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, +To be the post, in hope of his reward. + +YORK +At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within +there, ho! + +Enter a Servingman + +Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick +To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Saint Alban's. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing +QUEEN MARGARET +Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook, +I saw not better sport these seven years' day: +Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high; +And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. + +KING HENRY VI +But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, +And what a pitch she flew above the rest! +To see how God in all his creatures works! +Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. + +SUFFOLK +No marvel, an it like your majesty, +My lord protector's hawks do tower so well; +They know their master loves to be aloft, +And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind +That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. + +CARDINAL +I thought as much; he would be above the clouds. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that? +Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven? + +KING HENRY VI +The treasury of everlasting joy. + +CARDINAL +Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts +Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart; +Pernicious protector, dangerous peer, +That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! + +GLOUCESTER +What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory? +Tantaene animis coelestibus irae? +Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; +With such holiness can you do it? + +SUFFOLK +No malice, sir; no more than well becomes +So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. + +GLOUCESTER +As who, my lord? + +SUFFOLK +Why, as you, my lord, +An't like your lordly lord-protectorship. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And thy ambition, Gloucester. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, peace, good queen, +And whet not on these furious peers; +For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. + +CARDINAL +Let me be blessed for the peace I make, +Against this proud protector, with my sword! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would +'twere come to that! + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou darest. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious +numbers for the matter; +In thine own person answer thy abuse. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou darest +not peep: an if thou darest, +This evening, on the east side of the grove. + +KING HENRY VI +How now, my lords! + +CARDINAL +Believe me, cousin Gloucester, +Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, +We had had more sport. + +Aside to GLOUCESTER + +Come with thy two-hand sword. + +GLOUCESTER +True, uncle. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advised? the +east side of the grove? + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, how now, uncle Gloucester! + +GLOUCESTER +Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. + +Aside to CARDINAL + +Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this, +Or all my fence shall fail. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum-- +Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. + +KING HENRY VI +The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords. +How irksome is this music to my heart! +When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? +I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. + +Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!' + +GLOUCESTER +What means this noise? +Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? + +Townsman +A miracle! a miracle! + +SUFFOLK +Come to the king and tell him what miracle. + +Townsman +Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, +Within this half-hour, hath received his sight; +A man that ne'er saw in his life before. + +KING HENRY VI +Now, God be praised, that to believing souls +Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair! + +Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following + +CARDINAL +Here comes the townsmen on procession, +To present your highness with the man. + +KING HENRY VI +Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, +Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king; +His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, +That we for thee may glorify the Lord. +What, hast thou been long blind and now restored? + +SIMPCOX +Born blind, an't please your grace. + +Wife +Ay, indeed, was he. + +SUFFOLK +What woman is this? + +Wife +His wife, an't like your worship. + +GLOUCESTER +Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have +better told. + +KING HENRY VI +Where wert thou born? + +SIMPCOX +At Berwick in the north, an't like your grace. + +KING HENRY VI +Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee: +Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, +But still remember what the Lord hath done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance, +Or of devotion, to this holy shrine? + +SIMPCOX +God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd +A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep, +By good Saint Alban; who said, 'Simpcox, come, +Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.' + +Wife +Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft +Myself have heard a voice to call him so. + +CARDINAL +What, art thou lame? + +SIMPCOX +Ay, God Almighty help me! + +SUFFOLK +How camest thou so? + +SIMPCOX +A fall off of a tree. + +Wife +A plum-tree, master. + +GLOUCESTER +How long hast thou been blind? + +SIMPCOX +Born so, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What, and wouldst climb a tree? + +SIMPCOX +But that in all my life, when I was a youth. + +Wife +Too true; and bought his climbing very dear. + +GLOUCESTER +Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst +venture so. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, +And made me climb, with danger of my life. + +GLOUCESTER +A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve. +Let me see thine eyes: wink now: now open them: +In my opinion yet thou seest not well. + +SIMPCOX +Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and +Saint Alban. + +GLOUCESTER +Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? + +SIMPCOX +Red, master; red as blood. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of? + +SIMPCOX +Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? + +SUFFOLK +And yet, I think, jet did he never see. + +GLOUCESTER +But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. + +Wife +Never, before this day, in all his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +What's his name? + +SIMPCOX +I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +Nor his? + +SIMPCOX +No, indeed, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What's thine own name? + +SIMPCOX +Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. + +GLOUCESTER +Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in +Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou +mightest as well have known all our names as thus to +name the several colours we do wear. Sight may +distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them +all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here +hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his +cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple +to his legs again? + +SIMPCOX +O master, that you could! + +GLOUCESTER +My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in +your town, and things called whips? + +Mayor +Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Then send for one presently. + +Mayor +Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. + +Exit an Attendant + +GLOUCESTER +Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, sirrah, +if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me +over this stool and run away. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone: +You go about to torture me in vain. + +Enter a Beadle with whips + +GLOUCESTER +Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah +beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. + +Beadle +I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your +doublet quickly. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand. + +After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!' + +KING HENRY VI +O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? + +QUEEN MARGARET +It made me laugh to see the villain run. + +GLOUCESTER +Follow the knave; and take this drab away. + +Wife +Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. + +GLOUCESTER +Let them be whipped through every market-town, till +they come to Berwick, from whence they came. + +Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, & c + +CARDINAL +Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day. + +SUFFOLK +True; made the lame to leap and fly away. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have done more miracles than I; +You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM + +KING HENRY VI +What tidings with our cousin Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. +A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, +Under the countenance and confederacy +Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, +The ringleader and head of all this rout, +Have practised dangerously against your state, +Dealing with witches and with conjurers: +Whom we have apprehended in the fact; +Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, +Demanding of King Henry's life and death, +And other of your highness' privy-council; +As more at large your grace shall understand. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] And so, my lord protector, +by this means +Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. +This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge; +'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. + +GLOUCESTER +Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart: +Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers; +And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee, +Or to the meanest groom. + +KING HENRY VI +O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, +Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest. +And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal, +How I have loved my king and commonweal: +And, for my wife, I know not how it stands; +Sorry I am to hear what I have heard: +Noble she is, but if she have forgot +Honour and virtue and conversed with such +As, like to pitch, defile nobility, +I banish her my bed and company +And give her as a prey to law and shame, +That hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. + +KING HENRY VI +Well, for this night we will repose us here: +To-morrow toward London back again, +To look into this business thoroughly +And call these foul offenders to their answers +And poise the cause in justice' equal scales, +Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. YORK'S garden. + +Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK +YORK +Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, +Our simple supper ended, give me leave +In this close walk to satisfy myself, +In craving your opinion of my title, +Which is infallible, to England's crown. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I long to hear it at full. + +WARWICK +Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good, +The Nevils are thy subjects to command. + +YORK +Then thus: +Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons: +The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; +The second, William of Hatfield, and the third, +Lionel Duke of Clarence: next to whom +Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; +The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; +The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; +William of Windsor was the seventh and last. +Edward the Black Prince died before his father +And left behind him Richard, his only son, +Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king; +Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, +The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, +Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth, +Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, +Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came, +And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know, +Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously. + +WARWICK +Father, the duke hath told the truth: +Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. + +YORK +Which now they hold by force and not by right; +For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, +The issue of the next son should have reign'd. + +SALISBURY +But William of Hatfield died without an heir. + +YORK +The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line +I claimed the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter, +Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March: +Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March; +Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor. + +SALISBURY +This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, +As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; +And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, +Who kept him in captivity till he died. +But to the rest. + +YORK +His eldest sister, Anne, +My mother, being heir unto the crown +Married Richard Earl of Cambridge; who was son +To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. +By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir +To Roger Earl of March, who was the son +Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, +Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence: +So, if the issue of the elder son +Succeed before the younger, I am king. + +WARWICK +What plain proceeding is more plain than this? +Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, +The fourth son; York claims it from the third. +Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign: +It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee +And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. +Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; +And in this private plot be we the first +That shall salute our rightful sovereign +With honour of his birthright to the crown. + +BOTH +Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king! + +YORK +We thank you, lords. But I am not your king +Till I be crown'd and that my sword be stain'd +With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; +And that's not suddenly to be perform'd, +But with advice and silent secrecy. +Do you as I do in these dangerous days: +Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, +At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, +At Buckingham and all the crew of them, +Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, +That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey: +'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that +Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. + +SALISBURY +My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full. + +WARWICK +My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick +Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. + +YORK +And, Nevil, this I do assure myself: +Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick +The greatest man in England but the king. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall of justice. + +Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS, MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard +KING HENRY VI +Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife: +In sight of God and us, your guilt is great: +Receive the sentence of the law for sins +Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. +You four, from hence to prison back again; +From thence unto the place of execution: +The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes, +And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. +You, madam, for you are more nobly born, +Despoiled of your honour in your life, +Shall, after three days' open penance done, +Live in your country here in banishment, +With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man. + +DUCHESS +Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death. + +GLOUCESTER +Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath judged thee: +I cannot justify whom the law condemns. + +Exeunt DUCHESS and other prisoners, guarded + +Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. +Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age +Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground! +I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; +Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go, +Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself +Protector be; and God shall be my hope, +My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet: +And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved +Than when thou wert protector to thy King. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I see no reason why a king of years +Should be to be protected like a child. +God and King Henry govern England's realm. +Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm. + +GLOUCESTER +My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: +As willingly do I the same resign +As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; +And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it +As others would ambitiously receive it. +Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, +May honourable peace attend thy throne! + +Exit + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen; +And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, +That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once; +His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off. +This staff of honour raught, there let it stand +Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. + +SUFFOLK +Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; +Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. + +YORK +Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, +This is the day appointed for the combat; +And ready are the appellant and defendant, +The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, +So please your highness to behold the fight. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore +Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried. + +KING HENRY VI +O God's name, see the lists and all things fit: +Here let them end it; and God defend the right! + +YORK +I never saw a fellow worse bested, +Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, +The servant of this armourer, my lords. + +Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters with a drum before him and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sand-bag, and 'Prentices drinking to him + +First Neighbour +Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of +sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. + +Second Neighbour +And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco. + +Third Neighbour +And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour: +drink, and fear not your man. + +HORNER +Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and +a fig for Peter! +First 'Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid. +Second 'Prentice Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight +for credit of the 'prentices. + +PETER +I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray +you; for I think I have taken my last draught in +this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee +my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: +and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O +Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to +deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already. + +SALISBURY +Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. +Sirrah, what's thy name? + +PETER +Peter, forsooth. + +SALISBURY +Peter! what more? + +PETER +Thump. + +SALISBURY +Thump! then see thou thump thy master well. + +HORNER +Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's +instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an +honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will +take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the +king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at +thee with a downright blow! + +YORK +Dispatch: this knave's tongue begins to double. +Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants! + +Alarum. They fight, and PETER strikes him down + +HORNER +Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. + +Dies + +YORK +Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the +good wine in thy master's way. + +PETER +O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence? +O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! + +KING HENRY VI +Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; +For his death we do perceive his guilt: +And God in justice hath revealed to us +The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, +Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully. +Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. + +Sound a flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks +GLOUCESTER +Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; +And after summer evermore succeeds +Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: +So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. +Sirs, what's o'clock? + +Servants +Ten, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Ten is the hour that was appointed me +To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: +Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, +To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. +Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook +The abject people gazing on thy face, +With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, +That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels +When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. +But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare +My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. + +Enter the DUCHESS in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers + +Servant +So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff. + +GLOUCESTER +No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. + +DUCHESS +Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? +Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! +See how the giddy multitude do point, +And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! +Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, +And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, +And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! + +GLOUCESTER +Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. + +DUCHESS +Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! +For whilst I think I am thy married wife +And thou a prince, protector of this land, +Methinks I should not thus be led along, +Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, +And followed with a rabble that rejoice +To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. +The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, +And when I start, the envious people laugh +And bid me be advised how I tread. +Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? +Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, +Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? +No; dark shall be my light and night my day; +To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. +Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, +And he a prince and ruler of the land: +Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was +As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, +Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock +To every idle rascal follower. +But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, +Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death +Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; +For Suffolk, he that can do all in all +With her that hateth thee and hates us all, +And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, +Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings, +And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee: +But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, +Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry; +I must offend before I be attainted; +And had I twenty times so many foes, +And each of them had twenty times their power, +All these could not procure me any scathe, +So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless. +Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? +Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away +But I in danger for the breach of law. +Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell: +I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; +These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. + +Enter a Herald + +Herald +I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, +Holden at Bury the first of this next month. + +GLOUCESTER +And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! +This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. + +Exit Herald + +My Nell, I take my leave: and, master sheriff, +Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. + +Sheriff +An't please your grace, here my commission stays, +And Sir John Stanley is appointed now +To take her with him to the Isle of Man. + +GLOUCESTER +Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? + +STANLEY +So am I given in charge, may't please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Entreat her not the worse in that I pray +You use her well: the world may laugh again; +And I may live to do you kindness if +You do it her: and so, Sir John, farewell! + +DUCHESS +What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell! + +GLOUCESTER +Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Servingmen + +DUCHESS +Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! +For none abides with me: my joy is death; +Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd, +Because I wish'd this world's eternity. +Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence; +I care not whither, for I beg no favour, +Only convey me where thou art commanded. + +STANLEY +Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; +There to be used according to your state. + +DUCHESS +That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: +And shall I then be used reproachfully? + +STANLEY +Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady; +According to that state you shall be used. + +DUCHESS +Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, +Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. + +Sheriff +It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. + +DUCHESS +Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged. +Come, Stanley, shall we go? + +STANLEY +Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, +And go we to attire you for our journey. + +DUCHESS +My shame will not be shifted with my sheet: +No, it will hang upon my richest robes +And show itself, attire me how I can. +Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament +KING HENRY VI +I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come: +'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, +Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Can you not see? or will ye not observe +The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? +With what a majesty he bears himself, +How insolent of late he is become, +How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? +We know the time since he was mild and affable, +And if we did but glance a far-off look, +Immediately he was upon his knee, +That all the court admired him for submission: +But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, +When every one will give the time of day, +He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, +And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, +Disdaining duty that to us belongs. +Small curs are not regarded when they grin; +But great men tremble when the lion roars; +And Humphrey is no little man in England. +First note that he is near you in descent, +And should you fall, he as the next will mount. +Me seemeth then it is no policy, +Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears +And his advantage following your decease, +That he should come about your royal person +Or be admitted to your highness' council. +By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, +And when he please to make commotion, +'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. +Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; +Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden +And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. +The reverent care I bear unto my lord +Made me collect these dangers in the duke. +If it be fond, call it a woman's fear; +Which fear if better reasons can supplant, +I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. +My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, +Reprove my allegation, if you can; +Or else conclude my words effectual. + +SUFFOLK +Well hath your highness seen into this duke; +And, had I first been put to speak my mind, +I think I should have told your grace's tale. +The duchess, by his subornation, +Upon my life, began her devilish practises: +Or, if he were not privy to those faults, +Yet, by reputing of his high descent, +As next the king he was successive heir, +And such high vaunts of his nobility, +Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess +By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. +Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep; +And in his simple show he harbours treason. +The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. +No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man +Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. + +CARDINAL +Did he not, contrary to form of law, +Devise strange deaths for small offences done? + +YORK +And did he not, in his protectorship, +Levy great sums of money through the realm +For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? +By means whereof the towns each day revolted. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown. +Which time will bring to light in smooth +Duke Humphrey. + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, at once: the care you have of us, +To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, +Is worthy praise: but, shall I speak my conscience, +Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent +From meaning treason to our royal person +As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove: +The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given +To dream on evil or to work my downfall. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! +Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, +For he's disposed as the hateful raven: +Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him, +For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. +Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? +Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all +Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. + +Enter SOMERSET + +SOMERSET +All health unto my gracious sovereign! + +KING HENRY VI +Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? + +SOMERSET +That all your interest in those territories +Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. + +KING HENRY VI +Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done! + +YORK +[Aside] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France +As firmly as I hope for fertile England. +Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud +And caterpillars eat my leaves away; +But I will remedy this gear ere long, +Or sell my title for a glorious grave. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +All happiness unto my lord the king! +Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long. + +SUFFOLK +Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, +Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art: +I do arrest thee of high treason here. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush +Nor change my countenance for this arrest: +A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. +The purest spring is not so free from mud +As I am clear from treason to my sovereign: +Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty? + +YORK +'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, +And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay; +By means whereof his highness hath lost France. + +GLOUCESTER +Is it but thought so? what are they that think it? +I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, +Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. +So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, +Ay, night by night, in studying good for England, +That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, +Or any groat I hoarded to my use, +Be brought against me at my trial-day! +No; many a pound of mine own proper store, +Because I would not tax the needy commons, +Have I disbursed to the garrisons, +And never ask'd for restitution. + +CARDINAL +It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. + +GLOUCESTER +I say no more than truth, so help me God! + +YORK +In your protectorship you did devise +Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, +That England was defamed by tyranny. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was +protector, +Pity was all the fault that was in me; +For I should melt at an offender's tears, +And lowly words were ransom for their fault. +Unless it were a bloody murderer, +Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, +I never gave them condign punishment: +Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured +Above the felon or what trespass else. + +SUFFOLK +My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered: +But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, +Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. +I do arrest you in his highness' name; +And here commit you to my lord cardinal +To keep, until your further time of trial. + +KING HENRY VI +My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope +That you will clear yourself from all suspect: +My conscience tells me you are innocent. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous: +Virtue is choked with foul ambition +And charity chased hence by rancour's hand; +Foul subornation is predominant +And equity exiled your highness' land. +I know their complot is to have my life, +And if my death might make this island happy, +And prove the period of their tyranny, +I would expend it with all willingness: +But mine is made the prologue to their play; +For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, +Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. +Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, +And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; +Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue +The envious load that lies upon his heart; +And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, +Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, +By false accuse doth level at my life: +And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, +Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, +And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up +My liefest liege to be mine enemy: +Ay, all you have laid your heads together-- +Myself had notice of your conventicles-- +And all to make away my guiltless life. +I shall not want false witness to condemn me, +Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; +The ancient proverb will be well effected: +'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' + +CARDINAL +My liege, his railing is intolerable: +If those that care to keep your royal person +From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage +Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at, +And the offender granted scope of speech, +'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. + +SUFFOLK +Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here +With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, +As if she had suborned some to swear +False allegations to o'erthrow his state? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But I can give the loser leave to chide. + +GLOUCESTER +Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; +Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! +And well such losers may have leave to speak. + +BUCKINGHAM +He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day: +Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. + +CARDINAL +Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch +Before his legs be firm to bear his body. +Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, +And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. +Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! +For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. + +Exit, guarded + +The Third part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 3 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house. + +Alarum. Enter YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers +WARWICK +I wonder how the king escaped our hands. + +YORK +While we pursued the horsemen of the north, +He slily stole away and left his men: +Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, +Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, +Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, +Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, +Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in +Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. + +EDWARD +Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, +Is either slain or wounded dangerously; +I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: +That this is true, father, behold his blood. + +MONTAGUE +And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, +Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. + +RICHARD +Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. + +Throwing down SOMERSET's head + +YORK +Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. +But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? + +NORFOLK +Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! + +RICHARD +Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. + +WARWICK +And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, +Before I see thee seated in that throne +Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, +I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. +This is the palace of the fearful king, +And this the regal seat: possess it, York; +For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs' + +YORK +Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; +For hither we have broken in by force. + +NORFOLK +We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. + +YORK +Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; +And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. + +They go up + +WARWICK +And when the king comes, offer no violence, +Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. + +YORK +The queen this day here holds her parliament, +But little thinks we shall be of her council: +By words or blows here let us win our right. + +RICHARD +Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. + +WARWICK +The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, +Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, +And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice +Hath made us by-words to our enemies. + +YORK +Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; +I mean to take possession of my right. + +WARWICK +Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, +The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, +Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. +I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: +Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, +Even in the chair of state: belike he means, +Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, +To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. +Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father. +And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge +On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! + +CLIFFORD +The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. + +WESTMORELAND +What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: +My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. + +CLIFFORD +Patience is for poltroons, such as he: +He durst not sit there, had your father lived. +My gracious lord, here in the parliament +Let us assail the family of York. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, know you not the city favours them, +And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? + +EXETER +But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. + +KING HENRY VI +Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, +To make a shambles of the parliament-house! +Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats +Shall be the war that Henry means to use. +Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, +and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; +I am thy sovereign. + +YORK +I am thine. + +EXETER +For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York. + +YORK +'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. + +EXETER +Thy father was a traitor to the crown. + +WARWICK +Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown +In following this usurping Henry. + +CLIFFORD +Whom should he follow but his natural king? + +WARWICK +True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. + +KING HENRY VI +And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? + +YORK +It must and shall be so: content thyself. + +WARWICK +Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. + +WESTMORELAND +He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; +And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. + +WARWICK +And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget +That we are those which chased you from the field +And slew your fathers, and with colours spread +March'd through the city to the palace gates. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; +And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. + +WESTMORELAND +Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, +Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives +Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. + +CLIFFORD +Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, +I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger +As shall revenge his death before I stir. + +WARWICK +Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats! + +YORK +Will you we show our title to the crown? +If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. + +KING HENRY VI +What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? +Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; +Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: +I am the son of Henry the Fifth, +Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop +And seized upon their towns and provinces. + +WARWICK +Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. + +KING HENRY VI +The lord protector lost it, and not I: +When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. + +RICHARD +You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. +Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. + +EDWARD +Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. + +MONTAGUE +Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, +Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. + +RICHARD +Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly. + +YORK +Sons, peace! + +KING HENRY VI +Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. + +WARWICK +Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; +And be you silent and attentive too, +For he that interrupts him shall not live. + +KING HENRY VI +Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, +Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? +No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; +Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, +And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, +Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? +My title's good, and better far than his. + +WARWICK +Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. + +KING HENRY VI +Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. + +YORK +'Twas by rebellion against his king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-- +Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? + +YORK +What then? + +KING HENRY VI +An if he may, then am I lawful king; +For Richard, in the view of many lords, +Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, +Whose heir my father was, and I am his. + +YORK +He rose against him, being his sovereign, +And made him to resign his crown perforce. + +WARWICK +Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd, +Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? + +EXETER +No; for he could not so resign his crown +But that the next heir should succeed and reign. + +KING HENRY VI +Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? + +EXETER +His is the right, and therefore pardon me. + +YORK +Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? + +EXETER +My conscience tells me he is lawful king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, +Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. + +WARWICK +Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power, +Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, +Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, +Can set the duke up in despite of me. + +CLIFFORD +King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, +Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: +May that ground gape and swallow me alive, +Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father! + +KING HENRY VI +O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! + +YORK +Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. +What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? + +WARWICK +Do right unto this princely Duke of York, +Or I will fill the house with armed men, +And over the chair of state, where now he sits, +Write up his title with usurping blood. + +He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves + +KING HENRY VI +My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: +Let me for this my life-time reign as king. + +YORK +Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, +And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. + +KING HENRY VI +I am content: Richard Plantagenet, +Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. + +CLIFFORD +What wrong is this unto the prince your son! + +WARWICK +What good is this to England and himself! + +WESTMORELAND +Base, fearful and despairing Henry! + +CLIFFORD +How hast thou injured both thyself and us! + +WESTMORELAND +I cannot stay to hear these articles. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nor I. + +CLIFFORD +Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news. + +WESTMORELAND +Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, +In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be thou a prey unto the house of York, +And die in bands for this unmanly deed! + +CLIFFORD +In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, +Or live in peace abandon'd and despised! + +Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND + +WARWICK +Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. + +EXETER +They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, Exeter! + +WARWICK +Why should you sigh, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, +Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. +But be it as it may: I here entail +The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; +Conditionally, that here thou take an oath +To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, +To honour me as thy king and sovereign, +And neither by treason nor hostility +To seek to put me down and reign thyself. + +YORK +This oath I willingly take and will perform. + +WARWICK +Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him. + +KING HENRY VI +And long live thou and these thy forward sons! + +YORK +Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. + +EXETER +Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes! + +Sennet. Here they come down + +YORK +Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. + +WARWICK +And I'll keep London with my soldiers. + +NORFOLK +And I to Norfolk with my followers. + +MONTAGUE +And I unto the sea from whence I came. + +Exeunt YORK, EDWARD, EDMUND, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, their Soldiers, and Attendants + +KING HENRY VI +And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +EXETER +Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: +I'll steal away. + +KING HENRY VI +Exeter, so will I. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Who can be patient in such extremes? +Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid +And never seen thee, never borne thee son, +Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father +Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? +Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, +Or felt that pain which I did for him once, +Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood, +Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, +Rather than have that savage duke thine heir +And disinherited thine only son. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Father, you cannot disinherit me: +If you be king, why should not I succeed? + +KING HENRY VI +Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: +The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? +I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! +Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; +And given unto the house of York such head +As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. +To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, +What is it, but to make thy sepulchre +And creep into it far before thy time? +Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; +Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; +The duke is made protector of the realm; +And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds +The trembling lamb environed with wolves. +Had I been there, which am a silly woman, +The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes +Before I would have granted to that act. +But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: +And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself +Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, +Until that act of parliament be repeal'd +Whereby my son is disinherited. +The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours +Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; +And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace +And utter ruin of the house of York. +Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away; +Our army is ready; come, we'll after them. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone. + +KING HENRY VI +Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies. + +PRINCE EDWARD +When I return with victory from the field +I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Come, son, away; we may not linger thus. + +Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +KING HENRY VI +Poor queen! how love to me and to her son +Hath made her break out into terms of rage! +Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, +Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, +Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle +Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! +The loss of those three lords torments my heart: +I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. +Come, cousin you shall be the messenger. + +EXETER +And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Sandal Castle. + +Enter RICHARD, EDWARD, and MONTAGUE +RICHARD +Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. + +EDWARD +No, I can better play the orator. + +MONTAGUE +But I have reasons strong and forcible. + +Enter YORK + +YORK +Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife? +What is your quarrel? how began it first? + +EDWARD +No quarrel, but a slight contention. + +YORK +About what? + +RICHARD +About that which concerns your grace and us; +The crown of England, father, which is yours. + +YORK +Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead. + +RICHARD +Your right depends not on his life or death. + +EDWARD +Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: +By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, +It will outrun you, father, in the end. + +YORK +I took an oath that he should quietly reign. + +EDWARD +But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: +I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. + +RICHARD +No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. + +YORK +I shall be, if I claim by open war. + +RICHARD +I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. + +YORK +Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. + +RICHARD +An oath is of no moment, being not took +Before a true and lawful magistrate, +That hath authority over him that swears: +Henry had none, but did usurp the place; +Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, +Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. +Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think +How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; +Within whose circuit is Elysium +And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. +Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest +Until the white rose that I wear be dyed +Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. + +YORK +Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. +Brother, thou shalt to London presently, +And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. +Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, +And tell him privily of our intent. +You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, +With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: +In them I trust; for they are soldiers, +Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. +While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, +But that I seek occasion how to rise, +And yet the king not privy to my drift, +Nor any of the house of Lancaster? + +Enter a Messenger + +But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post? + +Messenger +The queen with all the northern earls and lords +Intend here to besiege you in your castle: +She is hard by with twenty thousand men; +And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. + +YORK +Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them? +Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; +My brother Montague shall post to London: +Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, +Whom we have left protectors of the king, +With powerful policy strengthen themselves, +And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. + +MONTAGUE +Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: +And thus most humbly I do take my leave. + +Exit + +Enter JOHN MORTIMER and HUGH MORTIMER + +Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, +You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; +The army of the queen mean to besiege us. + +JOHN MORTIMER +She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. + +YORK +What, with five thousand men? + +RICHARD +Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need: +A woman's general; what should we fear? + +A march afar off + +EDWARD +I hear their drums: let's set our men in order, +And issue forth and bid them battle straight. + +YORK +Five men to twenty! though the odds be great, +I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. +Many a battle have I won in France, +When as the enemy hath been ten to one: +Why should I not now have the like success? + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield. + +Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor +RUTLAND +Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? +Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! + +Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. +As for the brat of this accursed duke, +Whose father slew my father, he shall die. + +Tutor +And I, my lord, will bear him company. + +CLIFFORD +Soldiers, away with him! + +Tutor +Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, +Lest thou be hated both of God and man! + +Exit, dragged off by Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +How now! is he dead already? or is it fear +That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. + +RUTLAND +So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch +That trembles under his devouring paws; +And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, +And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. +Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, +And not with such a cruel threatening look. +Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. +I am too mean a subject for thy wrath: +Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. + +CLIFFORD +In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood +Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. + +RUTLAND +Then let my father's blood open it again: +He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. + +CLIFFORD +Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine +Were not revenge sufficient for me; +No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves +And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, +It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. +The sight of any of the house of York +Is as a fury to torment my soul; +And till I root out their accursed line +And leave not one alive, I live in hell. +Therefore-- + +Lifting his hand + +RUTLAND +O, let me pray before I take my death! +To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! + +CLIFFORD +Such pity as my rapier's point affords. + +RUTLAND +I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me? + +CLIFFORD +Thy father hath. + +RUTLAND +But 'twas ere I was born. +Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, +Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, +He be as miserably slain as I. +Ah, let me live in prison all my days; +And when I give occasion of offence, +Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. + +CLIFFORD +No cause! +Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. + +Stabs him + +RUTLAND +Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! + +Dies + +CLIFFORD +Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! +And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade +Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, +Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter YORK +YORK +The army of the queen hath got the field: +My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; +And all my followers to the eager foe +Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind +Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. +My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: +But this I know, they have demean'd themselves +Like men born to renown by life or death. +Three times did Richard make a lane to me. +And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!' +And full as oft came Edward to my side, +With purple falchion, painted to the hilt +In blood of those that had encounter'd him: +And when the hardiest warriors did retire, +Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!' +And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb! +A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!' +With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! +We bodged again; as I have seen a swan +With bootless labour swim against the tide +And spend her strength with over-matching waves. + +A short alarum within + +Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; +And I am faint and cannot fly their fury: +And were I strong, I would not shun their fury: +The sands are number'd that make up my life; +Here must I stay, and here my life must end. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers + +Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, +I dare your quenchless fury to more rage: +I am your butt, and I abide your shot. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. + +CLIFFORD +Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, +With downright payment, show'd unto my father. +Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car, +And made an evening at the noontide prick. + +YORK +My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth +A bird that will revenge upon you all: +And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, +Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. +Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? + +CLIFFORD +So cowards fight when they can fly no further; +So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; +So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, +Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. + +YORK +O Clifford, but bethink thee once again, +And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; +And, if though canst for blushing, view this face, +And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice +Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this! + +CLIFFORD +I will not bandy with thee word for word, +But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes +I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. +Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much +To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: +What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, +For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, +When he might spurn him with his foot away? +It is war's prize to take all vantages; +And ten to one is no impeach of valour. + +They lay hands on YORK, who struggles + +CLIFFORD +Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +So doth the cony struggle in the net. + +YORK +So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; +So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What would your grace have done unto him now? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, +Come, make him stand upon this molehill here, +That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, +Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. +What! was it you that would be England's king? +Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, +And made a preachment of your high descent? +Where are your mess of sons to back you now? +The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? +And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, +Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice +Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? +Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? +Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood +That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, +Made issue from the bosom of the boy; +And if thine eyes can water for his death, +I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. +Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, +I should lament thy miserable state. +I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York. +What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails +That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? +Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad; +And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. +Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. +Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport: +York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown. +A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him: +Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. + +Putting a paper crown on his head + +Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! +Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair, +And this is he was his adopted heir. +But how is it that great Plantagenet +Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? +As I bethink me, you should not be king +Till our King Henry had shook hands with death. +And will you pale your head in Henry's glory, +And rob his temples of the diadem, +Now in his life, against your holy oath? +O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable! +Off with the crown, and with the crown his head; +And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. + +CLIFFORD +That is my office, for my father's sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, stay; lets hear the orisons he makes. + +YORK +She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, +Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! +How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex +To triumph, like an Amazonian trull, +Upon their woes whom fortune captivates! +But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging, +Made impudent with use of evil deeds, +I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. +To tell thee whence thou camest, of whom derived, +Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. +Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, +Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem, +Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. +Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? +It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, +Unless the adage must be verified, +That beggars mounted run their horse to death. +'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; +But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: +'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; +The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: +'Tis government that makes them seem divine; +The want thereof makes thee abominable: +Thou art as opposite to every good +As the Antipodes are unto us, +Or as the south to the septentrion. +O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide! +How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child, +To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, +And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? +Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; +Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. +Bids't thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: +Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: +For raging wind blows up incessant showers, +And when the rage allays, the rain begins. +These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies: +And every drop cries vengeance for his death, +'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false +Frenchwoman. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so +That hardly can I cheque my eyes from tears. + +YORK +That face of his the hungry cannibals +Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: +But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, +O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania. +See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: +This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy, +And I with tears do wash the blood away. +Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: +And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, +Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears; +Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, +And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!' +There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; +And in thy need such comfort come to thee +As now I reap at thy too cruel hand! +Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: +My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin, +I should not for my life but weep with him. +To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland? +Think but upon the wrong he did us all, +And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. + +CLIFFORD +Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. + +Stabbing him + +QUEEN MARGARET +And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. + +Stabbing him + +YORK +Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God! +My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. + +Dies + +QUEEN MARGARET +Off with his head, and set it on York gates; +So York may overlook the town of York. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire. + +A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power +EDWARD +I wonder how our princely father 'scaped, +Or whether he be 'scaped away or no +From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit: +Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; +Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; +Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard +The happy tidings of his good escape. +How fares my brother? why is he so sad? + +RICHARD +I cannot joy, until I be resolved +Where our right valiant father is become. +I saw him in the battle range about; +And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth. +Methought he bore him in the thickest troop +As doth a lion in a herd of neat; +Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, +Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry, +The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. +So fared our father with his enemies; +So fled his enemies my warlike father: +Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. +See how the morning opes her golden gates, +And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! +How well resembles it the prime of youth, +Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! + +EDWARD +Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? + +RICHARD +Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; +Not separated with the racking clouds, +But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky. +See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, +As if they vow'd some league inviolable: +Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. +In this the heaven figures some event. + +EDWARD +'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. +I think it cites us, brother, to the field, +That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, +Each one already blazing by our meeds, +Should notwithstanding join our lights together +And over-shine the earth as this the world. +Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear +Upon my target three fair-shining suns. + +RICHARD +Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it, +You love the breeder better than the male. + +Enter a Messenger + +But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell +Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? + +Messenger +Ah, one that was a woful looker-on +When as the noble Duke of York was slain, +Your princely father and my loving lord! + +EDWARD +O, speak no more, for I have heard too much. + +RICHARD +Say how he died, for I will hear it all. + +Messenger +Environed he was with many foes, +And stood against them, as the hope of Troy +Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy. +But Hercules himself must yield to odds; +And many strokes, though with a little axe, +Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. +By many hands your father was subdued; +But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm +Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen, +Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite, +Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept, +The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks +A napkin steeped in the harmless blood +Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: +And after many scorns, many foul taunts, +They took his head, and on the gates of York +They set the same; and there it doth remain, +The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. + +EDWARD +Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, +Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. +O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain +The flower of Europe for his chivalry; +And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, +For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. +Now my soul's palace is become a prison: +Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body +Might in the ground be closed up in rest! +For never henceforth shall I joy again, +Never, O never shall I see more joy! + +RICHARD +I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture +Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: +Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; +For selfsame wind that I should speak withal +Is kindling coals that fires all my breast, +And burns me up with flames that tears would quench. +To weep is to make less the depth of grief: +Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me +Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death, +Or die renowned by attempting it. + +EDWARD +His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; +His dukedom and his chair with me is left. + +RICHARD +Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, +Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun: +For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say; +Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. + +March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army + +WARWICK +How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad? + +RICHARD +Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount +Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance +Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, +The words would add more anguish than the wounds. +O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain! + +EDWARD +O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet, +Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption, +Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. + +WARWICK +Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; +And now, to add more measure to your woes, +I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. +After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, +Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, +Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, +Were brought me of your loss and his depart. +I, then in London keeper of the king, +Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, +And very well appointed, as I thought, +March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, +Bearing the king in my behalf along; +For by my scouts I was advertised +That she was coming with a full intent +To dash our late decree in parliament +Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. +Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met +Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: +But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, +Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, +That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; +Or whether 'twas report of her success; +Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, +Who thunders to his captives blood and death, +I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, +Their weapons like to lightning came and went; +Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, +Or like an idle thresher with a flail, +Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. +I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, +With promise of high pay and great rewards: +But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, +And we in them no hope to win the day; +So that we fled; the king unto the queen; +Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, +In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: +For in the marches here we heard you were, +Making another head to fight again. + +EDWARD +Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? +And when came George from Burgundy to England? + +WARWICK +Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers; +And for your brother, he was lately sent +From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy, +With aid of soldiers to this needful war. + +RICHARD +'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled: +Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, +But ne'er till now his scandal of retire. + +WARWICK +Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear; +For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine +Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, +And wring the awful sceptre from his fist, +Were he as famous and as bold in war +As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. + +RICHARD +I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not: +'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak. +But in this troublous time what's to be done? +Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, +And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, +Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads? +Or shall we on the helmets of our foes +Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? +If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords. + +WARWICK +Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; +And therefore comes my brother Montague. +Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, +With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, +And of their feather many more proud birds, +Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. +He swore consent to your succession, +His oath enrolled in the parliament; +And now to London all the crew are gone, +To frustrate both his oath and what beside +May make against the house of Lancaster. +Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: +Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, +With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, +Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, +Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, +Why, Via! to London will we march amain, +And once again bestride our foaming steeds, +And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!' +But never once again turn back and fly. + +RICHARD +Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak: +Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, +That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay. + +EDWARD +Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; +And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!-- +Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! + +WARWICK +No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York: +The next degree is England's royal throne; +For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd +In every borough as we pass along; +And he that throws not up his cap for joy +Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. +King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, +Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown, +But sound the trumpets, and about our task. + +RICHARD +Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, +As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, +I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. + +EDWARD +Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us! + +Enter a Messenger + +WARWICK +How now! what news? + +Messenger +The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, +The queen is coming with a puissant host; +And craves your company for speedy counsel. + +WARWICK +Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before York. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets +QUEEN MARGARET +Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. +Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy +That sought to be encompass'd with your crown: +Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck: +To see this sight, it irks my very soul. +Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault, +Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow. + +CLIFFORD +My gracious liege, this too much lenity +And harmful pity must be laid aside. +To whom do lions cast their gentle looks? +Not to the beast that would usurp their den. +Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? +Not his that spoils her young before her face. +Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? +Not he that sets his foot upon her back. +The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, +And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. +Ambitious York doth level at thy crown, +Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows: +He, but a duke, would have his son a king, +And raise his issue, like a loving sire; +Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son, +Didst yield consent to disinherit him, +Which argued thee a most unloving father. +Unreasonable creatures feed their young; +And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, +Yet, in protection of their tender ones, +Who hath not seen them, even with those wings +Which sometime they have used with fearful flight, +Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, +Offer their own lives in their young's defence? +For shame, my liege, make them your precedent! +Were it not pity that this goodly boy +Should lose his birthright by his father's fault, +And long hereafter say unto his child, +'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got +My careless father fondly gave away'? +Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; +And let his manly face, which promiseth +Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart +To hold thine own and leave thine own with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, +Inferring arguments of mighty force. +But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear +That things ill-got had ever bad success? +And happy always was it for that son +Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? +I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; +And would my father had left me no more! +For all the rest is held at such a rate +As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep +Than in possession and jot of pleasure. +Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know +How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, +And this soft courage makes your followers faint. +You promised knighthood to our forward son: +Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. +Edward, kneel down. + +KING HENRY VI +Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; +And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right. + +PRINCE +My gracious father, by your kingly leave, +I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, +And in that quarrel use it to the death. + +CLIFFORD +Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Royal commanders, be in readiness: +For with a band of thirty thousand men +Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York; +And in the towns, as they do march along, +Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: +Darraign your battle, for they are at hand. + +CLIFFORD +I would your highness would depart the field: +The queen hath best success when you are absent. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be it with resolution then to fight. + +PRINCE EDWARD +My royal father, cheer these noble lords +And hearten those that fight in your defence: +Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!' + +March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace, +And set thy diadem upon my head; +Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy! +Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms +Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? + +EDWARD +I am his king, and he should bow his knee; +I was adopted heir by his consent: +Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, +You, that are king, though he do wear the crown, +Have caused him, by new act of parliament, +To blot out me, and put his own son in. + +CLIFFORD +And reason too: +Who should succeed the father but the son? + +RICHARD +Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak! + +CLIFFORD +Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee, +Or any he the proudest of thy sort. + +RICHARD +'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? + +CLIFFORD +Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. + +WARWICK +What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak? +When you and I met at Saint Alban's last, +Your legs did better service than your hands. + +WARWICK +Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. + +CLIFFORD +You said so much before, and yet you fled. + +WARWICK +'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay. + +RICHARD +Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. +Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain +The execution of my big-swoln heart +Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. + +CLIFFORD +I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child? + +RICHARD +Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, +As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; +But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. + +KING HENRY VI +Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, give no limits to my tongue: +I am a king, and privileged to speak. + +CLIFFORD +My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here +Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still. + +RICHARD +Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword: +By him that made us all, I am resolved +that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. + +EDWARD +Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? +A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, +That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. + +WARWICK +If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; +For York in justice puts his armour on. + +PRINCE EDWARD +If that be right which Warwick says is right, +There is no wrong, but every thing is right. + +RICHARD +Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; +For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam; +But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic, +Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided, +As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings. + +RICHARD +Iron of Naples hid with English gilt, +Whose father bears the title of a king,-- +As if a channel should be call'd the sea,-- +Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught, +To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? + +EDWARD +A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns, +To make this shameless callet know herself. +Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, +Although thy husband may be Menelaus; +And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd +By that false woman, as this king by thee. +His father revell'd in the heart of France, +And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop; +And had he match'd according to his state, +He might have kept that glory to this day; +But when he took a beggar to his bed, +And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day, +Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him, +That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, +And heap'd sedition on his crown at home. +For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride? +Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; +And we, in pity of the gentle king, +Had slipp'd our claim until another age. + +GEORGE +But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, +And that thy summer bred us no increase, +We set the axe to thy usurping root; +And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, +Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike, +We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down, +Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. + +EDWARD +And, in this resolution, I defy thee; +Not willing any longer conference, +Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak. +Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave! +And either victory, or else a grave. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Stay, Edward. + +EDWARD +No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay: +These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in +Yorkshire. + +Alarum. Excursions. Enter WARWICK + +WARWICK +Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, +I lay me down a little while to breathe; +For strokes received, and many blows repaid, +Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength, +And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. + +Enter EDWARD, running + +EDWARD +Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death! +For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. + +WARWICK +How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good? + +Enter GEORGE + +GEORGE +Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; +Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us: +What counsel give you? whither shall we fly? + +EDWARD +Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings; +And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. + +Enter RICHARD + +RICHARD +Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? +Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, +Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance; +And in the very pangs of death he cried, +Like to a dismal clangour heard from far, +'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!' +So, underneath the belly of their steeds, +That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood, +The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. + +WARWICK +Then let the earth be drunken with our blood: +I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. +Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, +Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage; +And look upon, as if the tragedy +Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors? +Here on my knee I vow to God above, +I'll never pause again, never stand still, +Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine +Or fortune given me measure of revenge. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine; +And in this vow do chain my soul to thine! +And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face, +I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee, +Thou setter up and plucker down of kings, +Beseeching thee, if with they will it stands +That to my foes this body must be prey, +Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope, +And give sweet passage to my sinful soul! +Now, lords, take leave until we meet again, +Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth. + +RICHARD +Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, +Let me embrace thee in my weary arms: +I, that did never weep, now melt with woe +That winter should cut off our spring-time so. + +WARWICK +Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell. + +GEORGE +Yet let us all together to our troops, +And give them leave to fly that will not stay; +And call them pillars that will stand to us; +And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards +As victors wear at the Olympian games: +This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; +For yet is hope of life and victory. +Forslow no longer, make we hence amain. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD +RICHARD +Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: +Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York, +And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, +Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall. + +CLIFFORD +Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: +This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York; +And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland; +And here's the heart that triumphs in their death +And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother +To execute the like upon thyself; +And so, have at thee! + +They fight. WARWICK comes; CLIFFORD flies + +RICHARD +Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; +For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone +KING HENRY VI +This battle fares like to the morning's war, +When dying clouds contend with growing light, +What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, +Can neither call it perfect day nor night. +Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea +Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; +Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea +Forced to retire by fury of the wind: +Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; +Now one the better, then another best; +Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, +Yet neither conqueror nor conquered: +So is the equal of this fell war. +Here on this molehill will I sit me down. +To whom God will, there be the victory! +For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, +Have chid me from the battle; swearing both +They prosper best of all when I am thence. +Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; +For what is in this world but grief and woe? +O God! methinks it were a happy life, +To be no better than a homely swain; +To sit upon a hill, as I do now, +To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, +Thereby to see the minutes how they run, +How many make the hour full complete; +How many hours bring about the day; +How many days will finish up the year; +How many years a mortal man may live. +When this is known, then to divide the times: +So many hours must I tend my flock; +So many hours must I take my rest; +So many hours must I contemplate; +So many hours must I sport myself; +So many days my ewes have been with young; +So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean: +So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: +So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, +Pass'd over to the end they were created, +Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. +Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! +Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade +To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, +Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy +To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? +O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. +And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, +His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle. +His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, +All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, +Is far beyond a prince's delicates, +His viands sparkling in a golden cup, +His body couched in a curious bed, +When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. + +Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body + +Son +Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. +This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, +May be possessed with some store of crowns; +And I, that haply take them from him now, +May yet ere night yield both my life and them +To some man else, as this dead man doth me. +Who's this? O God! it is my father's face, +Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd. +O heavy times, begetting such events! +From London by the king was I press'd forth; +My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, +Came on the part of York, press'd by his master; +And I, who at his hands received my life, him +Have by my hands of life bereaved him. +Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! +And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! +My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; +And no more words till they have flow'd their fill. + +KING HENRY VI +O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! +Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, +Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. +Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear; +And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, +Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief. + +Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body + +Father +Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, +Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold: +For I have bought it with an hundred blows. +But let me see: is this our foeman's face? +Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! +Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, +Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise, +Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, +Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart! +O, pity, God, this miserable age! +What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, +Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural, +This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! +O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, +And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! + +KING HENRY VI +Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! +O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! +O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! +The red rose and the white are on his face, +The fatal colours of our striving houses: +The one his purple blood right well resembles; +The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth: +Wither one rose, and let the other flourish; +If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. + +Son +How will my mother for a father's death +Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied! + +Father +How will my wife for slaughter of my son +Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! + +KING HENRY VI +How will the country for these woful chances +Misthink the king and not be satisfied! + +Son +Was ever son so rued a father's death? + +Father +Was ever father so bemoan'd his son? + +KING HENRY VI +Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? +Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. + +Son +I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. + +Exit with the body + +Father +These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet; +My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre, +For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go; +My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; +And so obsequious will thy father be, +Even for the loss of thee, having no more, +As Priam was for all his valiant sons. +I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, +For I have murdered where I should not kill. + +Exit with the body + +KING HENRY VI +Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, +Here sits a king more woful than you are. + +Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER + +PRINCE EDWARD +Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, +And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: +Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain: +Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds +Having the fearful flying hare in sight, +With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath, +And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, +Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. + +EXETER +Away! for vengeance comes along with them: +Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; +Or else come after: I'll away before. + +KING HENRY VI +Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter: +Not that I fear to stay, but love to go +Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Another part of the field. + +A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded +CLIFFORD +Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, +Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light. +O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow +More than my body's parting with my soul! +My love and fear glued many friends to thee; +And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts. +Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York, +The common people swarm like summer flies; +And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? +And who shines now but Henry's enemies? +O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent +That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds, +Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth! +And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, +Or as thy father and his father did, +Giving no ground unto the house of York, +They never then had sprung like summer flies; +I and ten thousand in this luckless realm +Had left no mourning widows for our death; +And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. +For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? +And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? +Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; +No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: +The foe is merciless, and will not pity; +For at their hands I have deserved no pity. +The air hath got into my deadly wounds, +And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. +Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest; +I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. + +He faints + +Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, +And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. +Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen, +That led calm Henry, though he were a king, +As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, +Command an argosy to stem the waves. +But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? + +WARWICK +No, 'tis impossible he should escape, +For, though before his face I speak the words +Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: +And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. + +CLIFFORD groans, and dies + +EDWARD +Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? + +RICHARD +A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. + +EDWARD +See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, +If friend or foe, let him be gently used. + +RICHARD +Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; +Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch +In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, +But set his murdering knife unto the root +From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, +I mean our princely father, Duke of York. + +WARWICK +From off the gates of York fetch down the head, +Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; +Instead whereof let this supply the room: +Measure for measure must be answered. + +EDWARD +Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, +That nothing sung but death to us and ours: +Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, +And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. + +WARWICK +I think his understanding is bereft. +Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? +Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, +And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. + +RICHARD +O, would he did! and so perhaps he doth: +'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, +Because he would avoid such bitter taunts +Which in the time of death he gave our father. + +GEORGE +If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. + +RICHARD +Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. + +EDWARD +Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. + +WARWICK +Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. + +GEORGE +While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. + +RICHARD +Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. + +EDWARD +Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. + +GEORGE +Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? + +WARWICK +They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont. + +RICHARD +What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard +When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. +I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, +If this right hand would buy two hour's life, +That I in all despite might rail at him, +This hand should chop it off, and with the +issuing blood +Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst +York and young Rutland could not satisfy. + +WARWICK +Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head, +And rear it in the place your father's stands. +And now to London with triumphant march, +There to be crowned England's royal king: +From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France, +And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen: +So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; +And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread +The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; +For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, +Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. +First will I see the coronation; +And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea, +To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. + +EDWARD +Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; +For in thy shoulder do I build my seat, +And never will I undertake the thing +Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. +Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, +And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself, +Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. + +RICHARD +Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester; +For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. + +WARWICK +Tut, that's a foolish observation: +Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, +To see these honours in possession. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A forest in the north of England. + +Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands +First Keeper +Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; +For through this laund anon the deer will come; +And in this covert will we make our stand, +Culling the principal of all the deer. + +Second Keeper +I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. + +First Keeper +That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow +Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. +Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: +And, for the time shall not seem tedious, +I'll tell thee what befell me on a day +In this self-place where now we mean to stand. + +Second Keeper +Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, disguised, with a prayerbook + +KING HENRY VI +From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, +To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. +No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; +Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, +Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: +No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, +No humble suitors press to speak for right, +No, not a man comes for redress of thee; +For how can I help them, and not myself? + +First Keeper +Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: +This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. + +KING HENRY VI +Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, +For wise men say it is the wisest course. + +Second Keeper +Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. + +First Keeper +Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. + +KING HENRY VI +My queen and son are gone to France for aid; +And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick +Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister +To wife for Edward: if this news be true, +Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; +For Warwick is a subtle orator, +And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. +By this account then Margaret may win him; +For she's a woman to be pitied much: +Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; +Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; +The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; +And Nero will be tainted with remorse, +To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. +Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give; +She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, +He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. +She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; +He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd; +That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; +Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, +Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, +And in conclusion wins the king from her, +With promise of his sister, and what else, +To strengthen and support King Edward's place. +O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, +Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn! + +Second Keeper +Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? + +KING HENRY VI +More than I seem, and less than I was born to: +A man at least, for less I should not be; +And men may talk of kings, and why not I? + +Second Keeper +Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. + +Second Keeper +But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? + +KING HENRY VI +My crown is in my heart, not on my head; +Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, +Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: +A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. + +Second Keeper +Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, +Your crown content and you must be contented +To go along with us; for as we think, +You are the king King Edward hath deposed; +And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance +Will apprehend you as his enemy. + +KING HENRY VI +But did you never swear, and break an oath? + +Second Keeper +No, never such an oath; nor will not now. + +KING HENRY VI +Where did you dwell when I was King of England? + +Second Keeper +Here in this country, where we now remain. + +KING HENRY VI +I was anointed king at nine months old; +My father and my grandfather were kings, +And you were sworn true subjects unto me: +And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? + +First Keeper +No; +For we were subjects but while you were king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? +Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! +Look, as I blow this feather from my face, +And as the air blows it to me again, +Obeying with my wind when I do blow, +And yielding to another when it blows, +Commanded always by the greater gust; +Such is the lightness of you common men. +But do not break your oaths; for of that sin +My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. +Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; +And be you kings, command, and I'll obey. + +First Keeper +We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. + +KING HENRY VI +So would you be again to Henry, +If he were seated as King Edward is. + +First Keeper +We charge you, in God's name, and the king's, +To go with us unto the officers. + +KING HENRY VI +In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: +And what God will, that let your king perform; +And what he will, I humbly yield unto. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY +KING EDWARD IV +Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field +This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, +His lands then seized on by the conqueror: +Her suit is now to repossess those lands; +Which we in justice cannot well deny, +Because in quarrel of the house of York +The worthy gentleman did lose his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; +It were dishonour to deny it her. + +KING EDWARD IV +It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so? +I see the lady hath a thing to grant, +Before the king will grant her humble suit. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game: how true +he keeps the wind! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Silence! + +KING EDWARD IV +Widow, we will consider of your suit; +And come some other time to know our mind. + +LADY GREY +Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: +May it please your highness to resolve me now; +And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant +you all your lands, +An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. +Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she +chance to fall. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that! for he'll +take vantages. + +KING EDWARD IV +How many children hast thou, widow? tell me. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a +child of her. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, whip me then: he'll rather +give her two. + +LADY GREY +Three, my most gracious lord. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] You shall have four, if you'll +be ruled by him. + +KING EDWARD IV +'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. + +LADY GREY +Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. + +KING EDWARD IV +Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, good leave have you; for +you will have leave, +Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. + +GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE retire + +KING EDWARD IV +Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? + +LADY GREY +Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. + +KING EDWARD IV +And would you not do much to do them good? + +LADY GREY +To do them good, I would sustain some harm. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. + +LADY GREY +Therefore I came unto your majesty. + +KING EDWARD IV +I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. + +LADY GREY +So shall you bind me to your highness' service. + +KING EDWARD IV +What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? + +LADY GREY +What you command, that rests in me to do. + +KING EDWARD IV +But you will take exceptions to my boon. + +LADY GREY +No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. + +LADY GREY +Why, then I will do what your grace commands. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] He plies her hard; and much rain +wears the marble. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] As red as fire! nay, then +her wax must melt. + +LADY GREY +Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task? + +KING EDWARD IV +An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. + +LADY GREY +That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. + +LADY GREY +I take my leave with many thousand thanks. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The match is made; she seals it +with a curtsy. + +KING EDWARD IV +But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean. + +LADY GREY +The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. +What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? + +LADY GREY +My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers; +That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. + +KING EDWARD IV +No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. + +LADY GREY +Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. + +KING EDWARD IV +But now you partly may perceive my mind. + +LADY GREY +My mind will never grant what I perceive +Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. + +KING EDWARD IV +To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. + +LADY GREY +To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. + +LADY GREY +Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; +For by that loss I will not purchase them. + +KING EDWARD IV +Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. + +LADY GREY +Herein your highness wrongs both them and me. +But, mighty lord, this merry inclination +Accords not with the sadness of my suit: +Please you dismiss me either with 'ay' or 'no.' + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request; +No if thou dost say 'no' to my demand. + +LADY GREY +Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The widow likes him not, she +knits her brows. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He is the bluntest wooer in +Christendom. + +KING EDWARD IV +[Aside] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty; +Her words do show her wit incomparable; +All her perfections challenge sovereignty: +One way or other, she is for a king; +And she shall be my love, or else my queen.-- +Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? + +LADY GREY +'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord: +I am a subject fit to jest withal, +But far unfit to be a sovereign. + +KING EDWARD IV +Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee +I speak no more than what my soul intends; +And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. + +LADY GREY +And that is more than I will yield unto: +I know I am too mean to be your queen, +And yet too good to be your concubine. + +KING EDWARD IV +You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen. + +LADY GREY +'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father. + +KING EDWARD IV +No more than when my daughters call thee mother. +Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; +And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, +Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing +To be the father unto many sons. +Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The ghostly father now hath done +his shrift. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] When he was made a shriver, +'twas for shift. + +KING EDWARD IV +Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. + +GLOUCESTER +The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. + +KING EDWARD IV +You'll think it strange if I should marry her. + +CLARENCE +To whom, my lord? + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, Clarence, to myself. + +GLOUCESTER +That would be ten days' wonder at the least. + +CLARENCE +That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. + +GLOUCESTER +By so much is the wonder in extremes. + +KING EDWARD IV +Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both +Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. + +Enter a Nobleman + +Nobleman +My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, +And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. + +KING EDWARD IV +See that he be convey'd unto the Tower: +And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, +To question of his apprehension. +Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, Edward will use women honourably. +Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all, +That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, +To cross me from the golden time I look for! +And yet, between my soul's desire and me-- +The lustful Edward's title buried-- +Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward, +And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies, +To take their rooms, ere I can place myself: +A cold premeditation for my purpose! +Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty; +Like one that stands upon a promontory, +And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, +Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, +And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, +Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: +So do I wish the crown, being so far off; +And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; +And so I say, I'll cut the causes off, +Flattering me with impossibilities. +My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, +Unless my hand and strength could equal them. +Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard; +What other pleasure can the world afford? +I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, +And deck my body in gay ornaments, +And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. +O miserable thought! and more unlikely +Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! +Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: +And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, +She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe, +To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; +To make an envious mountain on my back, +Where sits deformity to mock my body; +To shape my legs of an unequal size; +To disproportion me in every part, +Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp +That carries no impression like the dam. +And am I then a man to be beloved? +O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! +Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, +But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such +As are of better person than myself, +I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, +And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell, +Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head +Be round impaled with a glorious crown. +And yet I know not how to get the crown, +For many lives stand between me and home: +And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood, +That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns, +Seeking a way and straying from the way; +Not knowing how to find the open air, +But toiling desperately to find it out,-- +Torment myself to catch the English crown: +And from that torment I will free myself, +Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. +Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, +And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart, +And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, +And frame my face to all occasions. +I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; +I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; +I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, +Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, +And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. +I can add colours to the chameleon, +Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, +And set the murderous Machiavel to school. +Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? +Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. + +Exit + +The Life of King Henry the Eighth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VIII | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +I come no more to make you laugh: things now, +That bear a weighty and a serious brow, +Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, +Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, +We now present. Those that can pity, here +May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; +The subject will deserve it. Such as give +Their money out of hope they may believe, +May here find truth too. Those that come to see +Only a show or two, and so agree +The play may pass, if they be still and willing, +I'll undertake may see away their shilling +Richly in two short hours. Only they +That come to hear a merry bawdy play, +A noise of targets, or to see a fellow +In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, +Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, +To rank our chosen truth with such a show +As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting +Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, +To make that only true we now intend, +Will leave us never an understanding friend. +Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known +The first and happiest hearers of the town, +Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see +The very persons of our noble story +As they were living; think you see them great, +And follow'd with the general throng and sweat +Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see +How soon this mightiness meets misery: +And, if you can be merry then, I'll say +A man may weep upon his wedding-day. + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM and ABERGAVENNY +BUCKINGHAM +Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done +Since last we saw in France? + +NORFOLK +I thank your grace, +Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer +Of what I saw there. + +BUCKINGHAM +An untimely ague +Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when +Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, +Met in the vale of Andren. + +NORFOLK +'Twixt Guynes and Arde: +I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; +Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung +In their embracement, as they grew together; +Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd +Such a compounded one? + +BUCKINGHAM +All the whole time +I was my chamber's prisoner. + +NORFOLK +Then you lost +The view of earthly glory: men might say, +Till this time pomp was single, but now married +To one above itself. Each following day +Became the next day's master, till the last +Made former wonders its. To-day the French, +All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, +Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they +Made Britain India: every man that stood +Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were +As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too, +Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear +The pride upon them, that their very labour +Was to them as a painting: now this masque +Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night +Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, +Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, +As presence did present them; him in eye, +Still him in praise: and, being present both +'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner +Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-- +For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged +The noble spirits to arms, they did perform +Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, +Being now seen possible enough, got credit, +That Bevis was believed. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, you go far. + +NORFOLK +As I belong to worship and affect +In honour honesty, the tract of every thing +Would by a good discourser lose some life, +Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; +To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. +Order gave each thing view; the office did +Distinctly his full function. + +BUCKINGHAM +Who did guide, +I mean, who set the body and the limbs +Of this great sport together, as you guess? + +NORFOLK +One, certes, that promises no element +In such a business. + +BUCKINGHAM +I pray you, who, my lord? + +NORFOLK +All this was order'd by the good discretion +Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. + +BUCKINGHAM +The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed +From his ambitious finger. What had he +To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder +That such a keech can with his very bulk +Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun +And keep it from the earth. + +NORFOLK +Surely, sir, +There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; +For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace +Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon +For high feats done to the crown; neither allied +For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, +Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, +The force of his own merit makes his way +A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys +A place next to the king. + +ABERGAVENNY +I cannot tell +What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye +Pierce into that; but I can see his pride +Peep through each part of him: whence has he that, +If not from hell? the devil is a niggard, +Or has given all before, and he begins +A new hell in himself. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why the devil, +Upon this French going out, took he upon him, +Without the privity o' the king, to appoint +Who should attend on him? He makes up the file +Of all the gentry; for the most part such +To whom as great a charge as little honour +He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, +The honourable board of council out, +Must fetch him in the papers. + +ABERGAVENNY +I do know +Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have +By this so sickened their estates, that never +They shall abound as formerly. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, many +Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em +For this great journey. What did this vanity +But minister communication of +A most poor issue? + +NORFOLK +Grievingly I think, +The peace between the French and us not values +The cost that did conclude it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Every man, +After the hideous storm that follow'd, was +A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke +Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, +Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded +The sudden breach on't. + +NORFOLK +Which is budded out; +For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd +Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. + +ABERGAVENNY +Is it therefore +The ambassador is silenced? + +NORFOLK +Marry, is't. + +ABERGAVENNY +A proper title of a peace; and purchased +At a superfluous rate! + +BUCKINGHAM +Why, all this business +Our reverend cardinal carried. + +NORFOLK +Like it your grace, +The state takes notice of the private difference +Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you-- +And take it from a heart that wishes towards you +Honour and plenteous safety--that you read +The cardinal's malice and his potency +Together; to consider further that +What his high hatred would effect wants not +A minister in his power. You know his nature, +That he's revengeful, and I know his sword +Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, +It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, +Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, +You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock +That I advise your shunning. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? +Where's his examination? + +First Secretary +Here, so please you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he in person ready? + +First Secretary +Ay, please your grace. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham +Shall lessen this big look. + +Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train + +BUCKINGHAM +This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I +Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best +Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book +Outworths a noble's blood. + +NORFOLK +What, are you chafed? +Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only +Which your disease requires. + +BUCKINGHAM +I read in's looks +Matter against me; and his eye reviled +Me, as his abject object: at this instant +He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; +I'll follow and outstare him. + +NORFOLK +Stay, my lord, +And let your reason with your choler question +What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills +Requires slow pace at first: anger is like +A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, +Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England +Can advise me like you: be to yourself +As you would to your friend. + +BUCKINGHAM +I'll to the king; +And from a mouth of honour quite cry down +This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim +There's difference in no persons. + +NORFOLK +Be advised; +Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot +That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, +By violent swiftness, that which we run at, +And lose by over-running. Know you not, +The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, +In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: +I say again, there is no English soul +More stronger to direct you than yourself, +If with the sap of reason you would quench, +Or but allay, the fire of passion. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir, +I am thankful to you; and I'll go along +By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, +Whom from the flow of gall I name not but +From sincere motions, by intelligence, +And proofs as clear as founts in July when +We see each grain of gravel, I do know +To be corrupt and treasonous. + +NORFOLK +Say not 'treasonous.' + +BUCKINGHAM +To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong +As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, +Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous +As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief +As able to perform't; his mind and place +Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-- +Only to show his pomp as well in France +As here at home, suggests the king our master +To this last costly treaty, the interview, +That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass +Did break i' the rinsing. + +NORFOLK +Faith, and so it did. + +BUCKINGHAM +Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal +The articles o' the combination drew +As himself pleased; and they were ratified +As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end +As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal +Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, +Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,-- +Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy +To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor, +Under pretence to see the queen his aunt-- +For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came +To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation: +His fears were, that the interview betwixt +England and France might, through their amity, +Breed him some prejudice; for from this league +Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily +Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-- +Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor +Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted +Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, +And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, +That he would please to alter the king's course, +And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, +As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal +Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, +And for his own advantage. + +NORFOLK +I am sorry +To hear this of him; and could wish he were +Something mistaken in't. + +BUCKINGHAM +No, not a syllable: +I do pronounce him in that very shape +He shall appear in proof. + +Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and two or three of the Guard + +BRANDON +Your office, sergeant; execute it. + +Sergeant +Sir, +My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl +Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I +Arrest thee of high treason, in the name +Of our most sovereign king. + +BUCKINGHAM +Lo, you, my lord, +The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish +Under device and practise. + +BRANDON +I am sorry +To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on +The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure +You shall to the Tower. + +BUCKINGHAM +It will help me nothing +To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me +Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven +Be done in this and all things! I obey. +O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! + +BRANDON +Nay, he must bear you company. The king + +To ABERGAVENNY + +Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know +How he determines further. + +ABERGAVENNY +As the duke said, +The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure +By me obey'd! + +BRANDON +Here is a warrant from +The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies +Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, +One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-- + +BUCKINGHAM +So, so; +These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. + +BRANDON +A monk o' the Chartreux. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, Nicholas Hopkins? + +BRANDON +He. + +BUCKINGHAM +My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal +Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: +I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, +Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, +By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The council-chamber. + +Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY VIII's feet on his right side +KING HENRY VIII +My life itself, and the best heart of it, +Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level +Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks +To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us +That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person +I'll hear him his confessions justify; +And point by point the treasons of his master +He shall again relate. + +A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. + +KING HENRY VIII +Arise, and take place by us: half your suit +Never name to us; you have half our power: +The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; +Repeat your will and take it. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Thank your majesty. +That you would love yourself, and in that love +Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor +The dignity of your office, is the point +Of my petition. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lady mine, proceed. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am solicited, not by a few, +And those of true condition, that your subjects +Are in great grievance: there have been commissions +Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart +Of all their loyalties: wherein, although, +My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches +Most bitterly on you, as putter on +Of these exactions, yet the king our master-- +Whose honour heaven shield from soil!--even he +escapes not +Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks +The sides of loyalty, and almost appears +In loud rebellion. + +NORFOLK +Not almost appears, +It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, +The clothiers all, not able to maintain +The many to them longing, have put off +The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, +Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger +And lack of other means, in desperate manner +Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, +And danger serves among then! + +KING HENRY VIII +Taxation! +Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, +You that are blamed for it alike with us, +Know you of this taxation? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please you, sir, +I know but of a single part, in aught +Pertains to the state; and front but in that file +Where others tell steps with me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +No, my lord, +You know no more than others; but you frame +Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome +To those which would not know them, and yet must +Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, +Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are +Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em, +The back is sacrifice to the load. They say +They are devised by you; or else you suffer +Too hard an exclamation. + +KING HENRY VIII +Still exaction! +The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, +Is this exaction? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am much too venturous +In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd +Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief +Comes through commissions, which compel from each +The sixth part of his substance, to be levied +Without delay; and the pretence for this +Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: +Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze +Allegiance in them; their curses now +Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, +This tractable obedience is a slave +To each incensed will. I would your highness +Would give it quick consideration, for +There is no primer business. + +KING HENRY VIII +By my life, +This is against our pleasure. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And for me, +I have no further gone in this than by +A single voice; and that not pass'd me but +By learned approbation of the judges. If I am +Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know +My faculties nor person, yet will be +The chronicles of my doing, let me say +'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake +That virtue must go through. We must not stint +Our necessary actions, in the fear +To cope malicious censurers; which ever, +As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow +That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further +Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, +By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is +Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, +Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up +For our best act. If we shall stand still, +In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, +We should take root here where we sit, or sit +State-statues only. + +KING HENRY VIII +Things done well, +And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; +Things done without example, in their issue +Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent +Of this commission? I believe, not any. +We must not rend our subjects from our laws, +And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? +A trembling contribution! Why, we take +From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber; +And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, +The air will drink the sap. To every county +Where this is question'd send our letters, with +Free pardon to each man that has denied +The force of this commission: pray, look to't; +I put it to your care. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +A word with you. + +To the Secretary + +Let there be letters writ to every shire, +Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons +Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised +That through our intercession this revokement +And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you +Further in the proceeding. + +Exit Secretary + +Enter Surveyor + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham +Is run in your displeasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +It grieves many: +The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; +To nature none more bound; his training such, +That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, +And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, +When these so noble benefits shall prove +Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, +They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly +Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, +Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, +Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find +His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady, +Hath into monstrous habits put the graces +That once were his, and is become as black +As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-- +This was his gentleman in trust--of him +Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount +The fore-recited practises; whereof +We cannot feel too little, hear too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, +Most like a careful subject, have collected +Out of the Duke of Buckingham. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak freely. + +Surveyor +First, it was usual with him, every day +It would infect his speech, that if the king +Should without issue die, he'll carry it so +To make the sceptre his: these very words +I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, +Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced +Revenge upon the cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please your highness, note +This dangerous conception in this point. +Not friended by by his wish, to your high person +His will is most malignant; and it stretches +Beyond you, to your friends. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My learn'd lord cardinal, +Deliver all with charity. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak on: +How grounded he his title to the crown, +Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him +At any time speak aught? + +Surveyor +He was brought to this +By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. + +KING HENRY VIII +What was that Hopkins? + +Surveyor +Sir, a Chartreux friar, +His confessor, who fed him every minute +With words of sovereignty. + +KING HENRY VIII +How know'st thou this? + +Surveyor +Not long before your highness sped to France, +The duke being at the Rose, within the parish +Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand +What was the speech among the Londoners +Concerning the French journey: I replied, +Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, +To the king's danger. Presently the duke +Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted +'Twould prove the verity of certain words +Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he, +'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit +John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour +To hear from him a matter of some moment: +Whom after under the confession's seal +He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke +My chaplain to no creature living, but +To me, should utter, with demure confidence +This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs, +Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive +To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke +Shall govern England.' + +QUEEN KATHARINE +If I know you well, +You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office +On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed +You charge not in your spleen a noble person +And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; +Yes, heartily beseech you. + +KING HENRY VIII +Let him on. +Go forward. + +Surveyor +On my soul, I'll speak but truth. +I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions +The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him +To ruminate on this so far, until +It forged him some design, which, being believed, +It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush, +It can do me no damage;' adding further, +That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, +The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads +Should have gone off. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha! +There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further? + +Surveyor +I can, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +Proceed. + +Surveyor +Being at Greenwich, +After your highness had reproved the duke +About Sir William Blomer,-- + +KING HENRY VIII +I remember +Of such a time: being my sworn servant, +The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? + +Surveyor +'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed, +As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd +The part my father meant to act upon +The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, +Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, +As he made semblance of his duty, would +Have put his knife to him.' + +KING HENRY VIII +A giant traitor! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, +and this man out of prison? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +God mend all! + +KING HENRY VIII +There's something more would out of thee; what say'st? + +Surveyor +After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,' +He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, +Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes +He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor +Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo +His father by as much as a performance +Does an irresolute purpose. + +KING HENRY VIII +There's his period, +To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd; +Call him to present trial: if he may +Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, +Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night, +He's traitor to the height. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain and SANDS +Chamberlain +Is't possible the spells of France should juggle +Men into such strange mysteries? + +SANDS +New customs, +Though they be never so ridiculous, +Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. + +Chamberlain +As far as I see, all the good our English +Have got by the late voyage is but merely +A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; +For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly +Their very noses had been counsellors +To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. + +SANDS +They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it, +That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin +Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. + +Chamberlain +Death! my lord, +Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, +That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. + +Enter LOVELL + +How now! +What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? + +LOVELL +Faith, my lord, +I hear of none, but the new proclamation +That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. + +Chamberlain +What is't for? + +LOVELL +The reformation of our travell'd gallants, +That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. + +Chamberlain +I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs +To think an English courtier may be wise, +And never see the Louvre. + +LOVELL +They must either, +For so run the conditions, leave those remnants +Of fool and feather that they got in France, +With all their honourable point of ignorance +Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, +Abusing better men than they can be, +Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean +The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, +Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel, +And understand again like honest men; +Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, +They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away +The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. + +SANDS +'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases +Are grown so catching. + +Chamberlain +What a loss our ladies +Will have of these trim vanities! + +LOVELL +Ay, marry, +There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons +Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; +A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. + +SANDS +The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, +For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now +An honest country lord, as I am, beaten +A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong +And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, +Held current music too. + +Chamberlain +Well said, Lord Sands; +Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. + +SANDS +No, my lord; +Nor shall not, while I have a stump. + +Chamberlain +Sir Thomas, +Whither were you a-going? + +LOVELL +To the cardinal's: +Your lordship is a guest too. + +Chamberlain +O, 'tis true: +This night he makes a supper, and a great one, +To many lords and ladies; there will be +The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. + +LOVELL +That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, +A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; +His dews fall every where. + +Chamberlain +No doubt he's noble; +He had a black mouth that said other of him. + +SANDS +He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him +Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: +Men of his way should be most liberal; +They are set here for examples. + +Chamberlain +True, they are so: +But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; +Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, +We shall be late else; which I would not be, +For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford +This night to be comptrollers. + +SANDS +I am your lordship's. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place. + +Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD +GUILDFORD +Ladies, a general welcome from his grace +Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates +To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, +In all this noble bevy, has brought with her +One care abroad; he would have all as merry +As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome, +Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: + +Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL + +The very thought of this fair company +Clapp'd wings to me. + +Chamberlain +You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. + +SANDS +Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal +But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these +Should find a running banquet ere they rested, +I think would better please 'em: by my life, +They are a sweet society of fair ones. + +LOVELL +O, that your lordship were but now confessor +To one or two of these! + +SANDS +I would I were; +They should find easy penance. + +LOVELL +Faith, how easy? + +SANDS +As easy as a down-bed would afford it. + +Chamberlain +Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, +Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this: +His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; +Two women placed together makes cold weather: +My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; +Pray, sit between these ladies. + +SANDS +By my faith, +And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: +If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; +I had it from my father. + +ANNE +Was he mad, sir? + +SANDS +O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too: +But he would bite none; just as I do now, +He would kiss you twenty with a breath. + +Kisses her + +Chamberlain +Well said, my lord. +So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, +The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies +Pass away frowning. + +SANDS +For my little cure, +Let me alone. + +Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady, +Or gentleman, that is not freely merry, +Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; +And to you all, good health. + +Drinks + +SANDS +Your grace is noble: +Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, +And save me so much talking. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My Lord Sands, +I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. +Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen, +Whose fault is this? + +SANDS +The red wine first must rise +In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em +Talk us to silence. + +ANNE +You are a merry gamester, +My Lord Sands. + +SANDS +Yes, if I make my play. +Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam, +For 'tis to such a thing,-- + +ANNE +You cannot show me. + +SANDS +I told your grace they would talk anon. + +Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What's that? + +Chamberlain +Look out there, some of ye. + +Exit Servant + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What warlike voice, +And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; +By all the laws of war you're privileged. + +Re-enter Servant + +Chamberlain +How now! what is't? + +Servant +A noble troop of strangers; +For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; +And hither make, as great ambassadors +From foreign princes. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Good lord chamberlain, +Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; +And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em +Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty +Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. + +Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed + +You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it. +A good digestion to you all: and once more +I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. + +Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him + +A noble company! what are their pleasures? + +Chamberlain +Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd +To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame +Of this so noble and so fair assembly +This night to meet here, they could do no less +Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, +But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct, +Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat +An hour of revels with 'em. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Say, lord chamberlain, +They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em +A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. + +They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII chooses ANNE + +KING HENRY VIII +The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, +Till now I never knew thee! + +Music. Dance + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My lord! + +Chamberlain +Your grace? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, tell 'em thus much from me: +There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, +More worthy this place than myself; to whom, +If I but knew him, with my love and duty +I would surrender it. + +Chamberlain +I will, my lord. + +Whispers the Masquers + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What say they? + +Chamberlain +Such a one, they all confess, +There is indeed; which they would have your grace +Find out, and he will take it. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Let me see, then. +By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make +My royal choice. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye have found him, cardinal: + +Unmasking + +You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord: +You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal, +I should judge now unhappily. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I am glad +Your grace is grown so pleasant. + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord chamberlain, +Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that? + +Chamberlain +An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter-- +The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women. + +KING HENRY VIII +By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, +I were unmannerly, to take you out, +And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! +Let it go round. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready +I' the privy chamber? + +LOVELL +Yes, my lord. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace, +I fear, with dancing is a little heated. + +KING HENRY VIII +I fear, too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +There's fresher air, my lord, +In the next chamber. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner, +I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry: +Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths +To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure +To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream +Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. + +Exeunt with trumpets + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Westminster. A street. + +Enter two Gentlemen, meeting +First Gentleman +Whither away so fast? + +Second Gentleman +O, God save ye! +Even to the hall, to hear what shall become +Of the great Duke of Buckingham. + +First Gentleman +I'll save you +That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony +Of bringing back the prisoner. + +Second Gentleman +Were you there? + +First Gentleman +Yes, indeed, was I. + +Second Gentleman +Pray, speak what has happen'd. + +First Gentleman +You may guess quickly what. + +Second Gentleman +Is he found guilty? + +First Gentleman +Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't. + +Second Gentleman +I am sorry for't. + +First Gentleman +So are a number more. + +Second Gentleman +But, pray, how pass'd it? + +First Gentleman +I'll tell you in a little. The great duke +Came to the bar; where to his accusations +He pleaded still not guilty and alleged +Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. +The king's attorney on the contrary +Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions +Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired +To have brought viva voce to his face: +At which appear'd against him his surveyor; +Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, +Confessor to him; with that devil-monk, +Hopkins, that made this mischief. + +Second Gentleman +That was he +That fed him with his prophecies? + +First Gentleman +The same. +All these accused him strongly; which he fain +Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: +And so his peers, upon this evidence, +Have found him guilty of high treason. Much +He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all +Was either pitied in him or forgotten. + +Second Gentleman +After all this, how did he bear himself? + +First Gentleman +When he was brought again to the bar, to hear +His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd +With such an agony, he sweat extremely, +And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: +But he fell to himself again, and sweetly +In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. + +Second Gentleman +I do not think he fears death. + +First Gentleman +Sure, he does not: +He never was so womanish; the cause +He may a little grieve at. + +Second Gentleman +Certainly +The cardinal is the end of this. + +First Gentleman +'Tis likely, +By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder, +Then deputy of Ireland; who removed, +Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, +Lest he should help his father. + +Second Gentleman +That trick of state +Was a deep envious one. + +First Gentleman +At his return +No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, +And generally, whoever the king favours, +The cardinal instantly will find employment, +And far enough from court too. + +Second Gentleman +All the commons +Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, +Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much +They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham, +The mirror of all courtesy;-- + +First Gentleman +Stay there, sir, +And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL, VAUX, SANDS, and common people + +Second Gentleman +Let's stand close, and behold him. + +BUCKINGHAM +All good people, +You that thus far have come to pity me, +Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. +I have this day received a traitor's judgment, +And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, +And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me, +Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! +The law I bear no malice for my death; +'T has done, upon the premises, but justice: +But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: +Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em: +Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, +Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; +For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em. +For further life in this world I ne'er hope, +Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies +More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me, +And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, +His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave +Is only bitter to him, only dying, +Go with me, like good angels, to my end; +And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, +Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, +And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. + +LOVELL +I do beseech your grace, for charity, +If ever any malice in your heart +Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you +As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; +There cannot be those numberless offences +'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: +no black envy +Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace; +And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him +You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers +Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake, +Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live +Longer than I have time to tell his years! +Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! +And when old time shall lead him to his end, +Goodness and he fill up one monument! + +LOVELL +To the water side I must conduct your grace; +Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, +Who undertakes you to your end. + +VAUX +Prepare there, +The duke is coming: see the barge be ready; +And fit it with such furniture as suits +The greatness of his person. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nay, Sir Nicholas, +Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. +When I came hither, I was lord high constable +And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: +Yet I am richer than my base accusers, +That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; +And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't. +My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, +Who first raised head against usurping Richard, +Flying for succor to his servant Banister, +Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, +And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! +Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying +My father's loss, like a most royal prince, +Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins, +Made my name once more noble. Now his son, +Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all +That made me happy at one stroke has taken +For ever from the world. I had my trial, +And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me, +A little happier than my wretched father: +Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both +Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most; +A most unnatural and faithless service! +Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me, +This from a dying man receive as certain: +Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels +Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends +And give your hearts to, when they once perceive +The least rub in your fortunes, fall away +Like water from ye, never found again +But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, +Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour +Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: +And when you would say something that is sad, +Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me! + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train + +First Gentleman +O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, +I fear, too many curses on their beads +That were the authors. + +Second Gentleman +If the duke be guiltless, +'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling +Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, +Greater than this. + +First Gentleman +Good angels keep it from us! +What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? + +Second Gentleman +This secret is so weighty, 'twill require +A strong faith to conceal it. + +First Gentleman +Let me have it; +I do not talk much. + +Second Gentleman +I am confident, +You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear +A buzzing of a separation +Between the king and Katharine? + +First Gentleman +Yes, but it held not: +For when the king once heard it, out of anger +He sent command to the lord mayor straight +To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues +That durst disperse it. + +Second Gentleman +But that slander, sir, +Is found a truth now: for it grows again +Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain +The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, +Or some about him near, have, out of malice +To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple +That will undo her: to confirm this too, +Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately; +As all think, for this business. + +First Gentleman +'Tis the cardinal; +And merely to revenge him on the emperor +For not bestowing on him, at his asking, +The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed. + +Second Gentleman +I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel +That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal +Will have his will, and she must fall. + +First Gentleman +'Tis woful. +We are too open here to argue this; +Let's think in private more. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter +Chamberlain +'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with +all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and +furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the +best breed in the north. When they were ready to +set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by +commission and main power, took 'em from me; with +this reason: His master would be served before a +subject, if not before the king; which stopped our +mouths, sir.' +I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them: +He will have all, I think. + +Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +NORFOLK +Well met, my lord chamberlain. + +Chamberlain +Good day to both your graces. + +SUFFOLK +How is the king employ'd? + +Chamberlain +I left him private, +Full of sad thoughts and troubles. + +NORFOLK +What's the cause? + +Chamberlain +It seems the marriage with his brother's wife +Has crept too near his conscience. + +SUFFOLK +No, his conscience +Has crept too near another lady. + +NORFOLK +'Tis so: +This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: +That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, +Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. + +SUFFOLK +Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. + +NORFOLK +How holily he works in all his business! +And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league +Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, +He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters +Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, +Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: +And out of all these to restore the king, +He counsels a divorce; a loss of her +That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years +About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; +Of her that loves him with that excellence +That angels love good men with; even of her +That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, +Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? + +Chamberlain +Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true +These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, +And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare +Look into these affairs see this main end, +The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open +The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon +This bold bad man. + +SUFFOLK +And free us from his slavery. + +NORFOLK +We had need pray, +And heartily, for our deliverance; +Or this imperious man will work us all +From princes into pages: all men's honours +Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd +Into what pitch he please. + +SUFFOLK +For me, my lords, +I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: +As I am made without him, so I'll stand, +If the king please; his curses and his blessings +Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. +I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him +To him that made him proud, the pope. + +NORFOLK +Let's in; +And with some other business put the king +From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him: +My lord, you'll bear us company? + +Chamberlain +Excuse me; +The king has sent me otherwhere: besides, +You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: +Health to your lordships. + +NORFOLK +Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. + +Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively + +SUFFOLK +How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, ha? + +NORFOLK +Pray God he be not angry. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves +Into my private meditations? +Who am I? ha? + +NORFOLK +A gracious king that pardons all offences +Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way +Is business of estate; in which we come +To know your royal pleasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye are too bold: +Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: +Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a commission + +Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, +The quiet of my wounded conscience; +Thou art a cure fit for a king. + +To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +You're welcome, +Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: +Use us and it. + +To CARDINAL WOLSEY + +My good lord, have great care +I be not found a talker. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, you cannot. +I would your grace would give us but an hour +Of private conference. + +KING HENRY VIII +[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] +We are busy; go. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] +This priest has no pride in him? + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of: +I would not be so sick though for his place: +But this cannot continue. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do, +I'll venture one have-at-him. + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] I another. + +Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom +Above all princes, in committing freely +Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: +Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? +The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her, +Must now confess, if they have any goodness, +The trial just and noble. All the clerks, +I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms +Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, +Invited by your noble self, hath sent +One general tongue unto us, this good man, +This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; +Whom once more I present unto your highness. + +KING HENRY VIII +And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, +And thank the holy conclave for their loves: +They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, +You are so noble. To your highness' hand +I tender my commission; by whose virtue, +The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord +Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant +In the unpartial judging of this business. + +KING HENRY VIII +Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted +Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I know your majesty has always loved her +So dear in heart, not to deny her that +A woman of less place might ask by law: +Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour +To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, +Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: +I find him a fit fellow. + +Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY + +Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand much joy and +favour to you; +You are the king's now. + +GARDINER +[Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY] +But to be commanded +For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. + +KING HENRY VIII +Come hither, Gardiner. + +Walks and whispers + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace +In this man's place before him? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, he was. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Was he not held a learned man? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, surely. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then +Even of yourself, lord cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +How! of me? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +They will not stick to say you envied him, +And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, +Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him, +That he ran mad and died. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven's peace be with him! +That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers +There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; +For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, +If I command him, follows my appointment: +I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, +We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. + +KING HENRY VIII +Deliver this with modesty to the queen. + +Exit GARDINER + +The most convenient place that I can think of +For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars; +There ye shall meet about this weighty business. +My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, +Would it not grieve an able man to leave +So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! +O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments. + +Enter ANNE and an Old Lady +ANNE +Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches: +His highness having lived so long with her, and she +So good a lady that no tongue could ever +Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life, +She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after +So many courses of the sun enthroned, +Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which +To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than +'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process, +To give her the avaunt! it is a pity +Would move a monster. + +Old Lady +Hearts of most hard temper +Melt and lament for her. + +ANNE +O, God's will! much better +She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal, +Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce +It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging +As soul and body's severing. + +Old Lady +Alas, poor lady! +She's a stranger now again. + +ANNE +So much the more +Must pity drop upon her. Verily, +I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, +And range with humble livers in content, +Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, +And wear a golden sorrow. + +Old Lady +Our content +Is our best having. + +ANNE +By my troth and maidenhead, +I would not be a queen. + +Old Lady +Beshrew me, I would, +And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, +For all this spice of your hypocrisy: +You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, +Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet +Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; +Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, +Saving your mincing, the capacity +Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, +If you might please to stretch it. + +ANNE +Nay, good troth. + +Old Lady +Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen? + +ANNE +No, not for all the riches under heaven. +Old Lady: 'Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would hire me, +Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you, +What think you of a duchess? have you limbs +To bear that load of title? + +ANNE +No, in truth. + +Old Lady +Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; +I would not be a young count in your way, +For more than blushing comes to: if your back +Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak +Ever to get a boy. + +ANNE +How you do talk! +I swear again, I would not be a queen +For all the world. + +Old Lady +In faith, for little England +You'ld venture an emballing: I myself +Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd +No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here? + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know +The secret of your conference? + +ANNE +My good lord, +Not your demand; it values not your asking: +Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. + +Chamberlain +It was a gentle business, and becoming +The action of good women: there is hope +All will be well. + +ANNE +Now, I pray God, amen! + +Chamberlain +You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings +Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, +Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's +Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty +Commends his good opinion of you, and +Does purpose honour to you no less flowing +Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title +A thousand pound a year, annual support, +Out of his grace he adds. + +ANNE +I do not know +What kind of my obedience I should tender; +More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers +Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes +More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes +Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, +Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, +As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; +Whose health and royalty I pray for. + +Chamberlain +Lady, +I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit +The king hath of you. + +Aside + +I have perused her well; +Beauty and honour in her are so mingled +That they have caught the king: and who knows yet +But from this lady may proceed a gem +To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king, +And say I spoke with you. + +Exit Chamberlain + +ANNE +My honour'd lord. + +Old Lady +Why, this it is; see, see! +I have been begging sixteen years in court, +Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could +Come pat betwixt too early and too late +For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! +A very fresh-fish here--fie, fie, fie upon +This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up +Before you open it. + +ANNE +This is strange to me. + +Old Lady +How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. +There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, +That would not be a queen, that would she not, +For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it? + +ANNE +Come, you are pleasant. + +Old Lady +With your theme, I could +O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke! +A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! +No other obligation! By my life, +That promises moe thousands: honour's train +Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time +I know your back will bear a duchess: say, +Are you not stronger than you were? + +ANNE +Good lady, +Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, +And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, +If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me, +To think what follows. +The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful +In our long absence: pray, do not deliver +What here you've heard to her. + +Old Lady +What do you think me? + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. + +Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone; after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Whilst our commission from Rome is read, +Let silence be commanded. + +KING HENRY VIII +What's the need? +It hath already publicly been read, +And on all sides the authority allow'd; +You may, then, spare that time. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be't so. Proceed. + +Scribe +Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Henry King of England, & c. + +KING HENRY VIII +Here. + +Scribe +Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, & c. + +QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, I desire you do me right and justice; +And to bestow your pity on me: for +I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, +Born out of your dominions; having here +No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance +Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, +In what have I offended you? what cause +Hath my behavior given to your displeasure, +That thus you should proceed to put me off, +And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, +I have been to you a true and humble wife, +At all times to your will conformable; +Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, +Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry +As I saw it inclined: when was the hour +I ever contradicted your desire, +Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends +Have I not strove to love, although I knew +He were mine enemy? what friend of mine +That had to him derived your anger, did I +Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice +He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind +That I have been your wife, in this obedience, +Upward of twenty years, and have been blest +With many children by you: if, in the course +And process of this time, you can report, +And prove it too, against mine honour aught, +My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, +Against your sacred person, in God's name, +Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt +Shut door upon me, and so give me up +To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir, +The king, your father, was reputed for +A prince most prudent, of an excellent +And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, +My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one +The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many +A year before: it is not to be question'd +That they had gather'd a wise council to them +Of every realm, that did debate this business, +Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly +Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may +Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel +I will implore: if not, i' the name of God, +Your pleasure be fulfill'd! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You have here, lady, +And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men +Of singular integrity and learning, +Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled +To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless +That longer you desire the court; as well +For your own quiet, as to rectify +What is unsettled in the king. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +His grace +Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, +It's fit this royal session do proceed; +And that, without delay, their arguments +Be now produced and heard. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Lord cardinal, +To you I speak. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your pleasure, madam? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, +I am about to weep; but, thinking that +We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain +The daughter of a king, my drops of tears +I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be patient yet. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I will, when you are humble; nay, before, +Or God will punish me. I do believe, +Induced by potent circumstances, that +You are mine enemy, and make my challenge +You shall not be my judge: for it is you +Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me; +Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, +I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul +Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more, +I hold my most malicious foe, and think not +At all a friend to truth. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I do profess +You speak not like yourself; who ever yet +Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects +Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom +O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong: +I have no spleen against you; nor injustice +For you or any: how far I have proceeded, +Or how far further shall, is warranted +By a commission from the consistory, +Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me +That I have blown this coal: I do deny it: +The king is present: if it be known to him +That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, +And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much +As you have done my truth. If he know +That I am free of your report, he knows +I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him +It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to +Remove these thoughts from you: the which before +His highness shall speak in, I do beseech +You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking +And to say so no more. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, my lord, +I am a simple woman, much too weak +To oppose your cunning. You're meek and +humble-mouth'd; +You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, +With meekness and humility; but your heart +Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. +You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, +Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted +Where powers are your retainers, and your words, +Domestics to you, serve your will as't please +Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, +You tender more your person's honour than +Your high profession spiritual: that again +I do refuse you for my judge; and here, +Before you all, appeal unto the pope, +To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, +And to be judged by him. + +She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +The queen is obstinate, +Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and +Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. +She's going away. + +KING HENRY VIII +Call her again. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +GRIFFITH +Madam, you are call'd back. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: +When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help, +They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on: +I will not tarry; no, nor ever more +Upon this business my appearance make +In any of their courts. + +Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants + +KING HENRY VIII +Go thy ways, Kate: +That man i' the world who shall report he has +A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, +For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, +If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, +Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, +Obeying in commanding, and thy parts +Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, +The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born; +And, like her true nobility, she has +Carried herself towards me. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Most gracious sir, +In humblest manner I require your highness, +That it shall please you to declare, in hearing +Of all these ears,--for where I am robb'd and bound, +There must I be unloosed, although not there +At once and fully satisfied,--whether ever I +Did broach this business to your highness; or +Laid any scruple in your way, which might +Induce you to the question on't? or ever +Have to you, but with thanks to God for such +A royal lady, spake one the least word that might +Be to the prejudice of her present state, +Or touch of her good person? + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord cardinal, +I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, +I free you from't. You are not to be taught +That you have many enemies, that know not +Why they are so, but, like to village-curs, +Bark when their fellows do: by some of these +The queen is put in anger. You're excused: +But will you be more justified? You ever +Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired +It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, +The passages made toward it: on my honour, +I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, +And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't, +I will be bold with time and your attention: +Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't: +My conscience first received a tenderness, +Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd +By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador; +Who had been hither sent on the debating +A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and +Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business, +Ere a determinate resolution, he, +I mean the bishop, did require a respite; +Wherein he might the king his lord advertise +Whether our daughter were legitimate, +Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, +Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook +The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, +Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble +The region of my breast; which forced such way, +That many mazed considerings did throng +And press'd in with this caution. First, methought +I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had +Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, +If it conceived a male child by me, should +Do no more offices of life to't than +The grave does to the dead; for her male issue +Or died where they were made, or shortly after +This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought, +This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, +Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not +Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that +I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in +By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me +Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in +The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer +Toward this remedy, whereupon we are +Now present here together: that's to say, +I meant to rectify my conscience,--which +I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,-- +By all the reverend fathers of the land +And doctors learn'd: first I began in private +With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember +How under my oppression I did reek, +When I first moved you. + +LINCOLN +Very well, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say +How far you satisfied me. + +LINCOLN +So please your highness, +The question did at first so stagger me, +Bearing a state of mighty moment in't +And consequence of dread, that I committed +The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt; +And did entreat your highness to this course +Which you are running here. + +KING HENRY VIII +I then moved you, +My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave +To make this present summons: unsolicited +I left no reverend person in this court; +But by particular consent proceeded +Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on: +For no dislike i' the world against the person +Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points +Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward: +Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life +And kingly dignity, we are contented +To wear our mortal state to come with her, +Katharine our queen, before the primest creature +That's paragon'd o' the world. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +So please your highness, +The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness +That we adjourn this court till further day: +Meanwhile must be an earnest motion +Made to the queen, to call back her appeal +She intends unto his holiness. + +KING HENRY VIII +[Aside] I may perceive +These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor +This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. +My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, +Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, +My comfort comes along. Break up the court: +I say, set on. + +Exeunt in manner as they entered + + +ACT III +SCENE I. London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments. + +Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work +QUEEN KATHARINE +Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; +Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. + +SONG + +Orpheus with his lute made trees, +And the mountain tops that freeze, +Bow themselves when he did sing: +To his music plants and flowers +Ever sprung; as sun and showers +There had made a lasting spring. +Every thing that heard him play, +Even the billows of the sea, +Hung their heads, and then lay by. +In sweet music is such art, +Killing care and grief of heart +Fall asleep, or hearing, die. + +Enter a Gentleman + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How now! + +Gentleman +An't please your grace, the two great cardinals +Wait in the presence. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would they speak with me? + +Gentleman +They will'd me say so, madam. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Pray their graces +To come near. + +Exit Gentleman + +What can be their business +With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? +I do not like their coming. Now I think on't, +They should be good men; their affairs as righteous: +But all hoods make not monks. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Peace to your highness! + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Your graces find me here part of a housewife, +I would be all, against the worst may happen. +What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +May it please you noble madam, to withdraw +Into your private chamber, we shall give you +The full cause of our coming. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Speak it here: +There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, +Deserves a corner: would all other women +Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! +My lords, I care not, so much I am happy +Above a number, if my actions +Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em, +Envy and base opinion set against 'em, +I know my life so even. If your business +Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, +Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina +serenissima,-- + +QUEEN KATHARINE +O, good my lord, no Latin; +I am not such a truant since my coming, +As not to know the language I have lived in: +A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, +suspicious; +Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, +If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; +Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal, +The willing'st sin I ever yet committed +May be absolved in English. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Noble lady, +I am sorry my integrity should breed, +And service to his majesty and you, +So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. +We come not by the way of accusation, +To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, +Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, +You have too much, good lady; but to know +How you stand minded in the weighty difference +Between the king and you; and to deliver, +Like free and honest men, our just opinions +And comforts to your cause. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Most honour'd madam, +My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, +Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace, +Forgetting, like a good man your late censure +Both of his truth and him, which was too far, +Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, +His service and his counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +[Aside] To betray me.-- +My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; +Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so! +But how to make ye suddenly an answer, +In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,-- +More near my life, I fear,--with my weak wit, +And to such men of gravity and learning, +In truth, I know not. I was set at work +Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking +Either for such men or such business. +For her sake that I have been,--for I feel +The last fit of my greatness,--good your graces, +Let me have time and counsel for my cause: +Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears: +Your hopes and friends are infinite. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +In England +But little for my profit: can you think, lords, +That any Englishman dare give me counsel? +Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure, +Though he be grown so desperate to be honest, +And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, +They that must weigh out my afflictions, +They that my trust must grow to, live not here: +They are, as all my other comforts, far hence +In mine own country, lords. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +I would your grace +Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How, sir? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Put your main cause into the king's protection; +He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much +Both for your honour better and your cause; +For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye, +You'll part away disgraced. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +He tells you rightly. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye tell me what ye wish for both,--my ruin: +Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! +Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge +That no king can corrupt. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your rage mistakes us. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye, +Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; +But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye: +Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? +The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, +A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? +I will not wish ye half my miseries; +I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye; +Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once +The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, this is a mere distraction; +You turn the good we offer into envy. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye +And all such false professors! would you have me-- +If you have any justice, any pity; +If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-- +Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? +Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, +His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, +And all the fellowship I hold now with him +Is only my obedience. What can happen +To me above this wretchedness? all your studies +Make me a curse like this. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your fears are worse. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself, +Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one? +A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, +Never yet branded with suspicion? +Have I with all my full affections +Still met the king? loved him next heaven? +obey'd him? +Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? +Almost forgot my prayers to content him? +And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. +Bring me a constant woman to her husband, +One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; +And to that woman, when she has done most, +Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, +To give up willingly that noble title +Your master wed me to: nothing but death +Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, hear me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would I had never trod this English earth, +Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! +Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. +What will become of me now, wretched lady! +I am the most unhappy woman living. +Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes! +Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, +No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me; +Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily, +That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, +I'll hang my head and perish. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +If your grace +Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, +You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady, +Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places, +The way of our profession is against it: +We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. +For goodness' sake, consider what you do; +How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly +Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. +The hearts of princes kiss obedience, +So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits +They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. +I know you have a gentle, noble temper, +A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us +Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues +With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, +As yours was put into you, ever casts +Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; +Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please +To trust us in your business, we are ready +To use our utmost studies in your service. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me, +If I have used myself unmannerly; +You know I am a woman, lacking wit +To make a seemly answer to such persons. +Pray, do my service to his majesty: +He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers +While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, +Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs, +That little thought, when she set footing here, +She should have bought her dignities so dear. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment. + +Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain +NORFOLK +If you will now unite in your complaints, +And force them with a constancy, the cardinal +Cannot stand under them: if you omit +The offer of this time, I cannot promise +But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, +With these you bear already. + +SURREY +I am joyful +To meet the least occasion that may give me +Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, +To be revenged on him. + +SUFFOLK +Which of the peers +Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least +Strangely neglected? when did he regard +The stamp of nobleness in any person +Out of himself? + +Chamberlain +My lords, you speak your pleasures: +What he deserves of you and me I know; +What we can do to him, though now the time +Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot +Bar his access to the king, never attempt +Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft +Over the king in's tongue. + +NORFOLK +O, fear him not; +His spell in that is out: the king hath found +Matter against him that for ever mars +The honey of his language. No, he's settled, +Not to come off, in his displeasure. + +SURREY +Sir, +I should be glad to hear such news as this +Once every hour. + +NORFOLK +Believe it, this is true: +In the divorce his contrary proceedings +Are all unfolded wherein he appears +As I would wish mine enemy. + +SURREY +How came +His practises to light? + +SUFFOLK +Most strangely. + +SURREY +O, how, how? + +SUFFOLK +The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, +And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read, +How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness +To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if +It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive +My king is tangled in affection to +A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.' + +SURREY +Has the king this? + +SUFFOLK +Believe it. + +SURREY +Will this work? + +Chamberlain +The king in this perceives him, how he coasts +And hedges his own way. But in this point +All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic +After his patient's death: the king already +Hath married the fair lady. + +SURREY +Would he had! + +SUFFOLK +May you be happy in your wish, my lord +For, I profess, you have it. + +SURREY +Now, all my joy +Trace the conjunction! + +SUFFOLK +My amen to't! + +NORFOLK +All men's! + +SUFFOLK +There's order given for her coronation: +Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left +To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, +She is a gallant creature, and complete +In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her +Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall +In it be memorised. + +SURREY +But, will the king +Digest this letter of the cardinal's? +The Lord forbid! + +NORFOLK +Marry, amen! + +SUFFOLK +No, no; +There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose +Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius +Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; +Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and +Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, +To second all his plot. I do assure you +The king cried Ha! at this. + +Chamberlain +Now, God incense him, +And let him cry Ha! louder! + +NORFOLK +But, my lord, +When returns Cranmer? + +SUFFOLK +He is return'd in his opinions; which +Have satisfied the king for his divorce, +Together with all famous colleges +Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, +His second marriage shall be publish'd, and +Her coronation. Katharine no more +Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager +And widow to Prince Arthur. + +NORFOLK +This same Cranmer's +A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain +In the king's business. + +SUFFOLK +He has; and we shall see him +For it an archbishop. + +NORFOLK +So I hear. + +SUFFOLK +'Tis so. +The cardinal! + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL + +NORFOLK +Observe, observe, he's moody. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The packet, Cromwell. +Gave't you the king? + +CROMWELL +To his own hand, in's bedchamber. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? + +CROMWELL +Presently +He did unseal them: and the first he view'd, +He did it with a serious mind; a heed +Was in his countenance. You he bade +Attend him here this morning. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he ready +To come abroad? + +CROMWELL +I think, by this he is. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Leave me awhile. + +Exit CROMWELL + +Aside + +It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, +The French king's sister: he shall marry her. +Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him: +There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen! +No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish +To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke! + +NORFOLK +He's discontented. + +SUFFOLK +May be, he hears the king +Does whet his anger to him. + +SURREY +Sharp enough, +Lord, for thy justice! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, +a knight's daughter, +To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen! +This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; +Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous +And well deserving? yet I know her for +A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to +Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of +Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up +An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one +Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, +And is his oracle. + +NORFOLK +He is vex'd at something. + +SURREY +I would 'twere something that would fret the string, +The master-cord on's heart! + +Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL + +SUFFOLK +The king, the king! + +KING HENRY VIII +What piles of wealth hath he accumulated +To his own portion! and what expense by the hour +Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift, +Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, +Saw you the cardinal? + +NORFOLK +My lord, we have +Stood here observing him: some strange commotion +Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; +Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, +Then lays his finger on his temple, straight +Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, +Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts +His eye against the moon: in most strange postures +We have seen him set himself. + +KING HENRY VIII +It may well be; +There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning +Papers of state he sent me to peruse, +As I required: and wot you what I found +There,--on my conscience, put unwittingly? +Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing; +The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, +Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which +I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks +Possession of a subject. + +NORFOLK +It's heaven's will: +Some spirit put this paper in the packet, +To bless your eye withal. + +KING HENRY VIII +If we did think +His contemplation were above the earth, +And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still +Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid +His thinkings are below the moon, not worth +His serious considering. + +King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL, who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven forgive me! +Ever God bless your highness! + +KING HENRY VIII +Good my lord, +You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory +Of your best graces in your mind; the which +You were now running o'er: you have scarce time +To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span +To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that +I deem you an ill husband, and am glad +To have you therein my companion. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, +For holy offices I have a time; a time +To think upon the part of business which +I bear i' the state; and nature does require +Her times of preservation, which perforce +I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, +Must give my tendence to. + +KING HENRY VIII +You have said well. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And ever may your highness yoke together, +As I will lend you cause, my doing well +With my well saying! + +KING HENRY VIII +'Tis well said again; +And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: +And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: +His said he did; and with his deed did crown +His word upon you. Since I had my office, +I have kept you next my heart; have not alone +Employ'd you where high profits might come home, +But pared my present havings, to bestow +My bounties upon you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] What should this mean? + +SURREY +[Aside] The Lord increase this business! + +KING HENRY VIII +Have I not made you, +The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, +If what I now pronounce you have found true: +And, if you may confess it, say withal, +If you are bound to us or no. What say you? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, +Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could +My studied purposes requite; which went +Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours +Have ever come too short of my desires, +Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends +Have been mine so that evermore they pointed +To the good of your most sacred person and +The profit of the state. For your great graces +Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I +Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, +My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, +Which ever has and ever shall be growing, +Till death, that winter, kill it. + +The Life and Death of King John +Shakespeare homepage | King John | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. KING JOHN'S palace. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON +KING JOHN +Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us? + +CHATILLON +Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France +In my behavior to the majesty, +The borrow'd majesty, of England here. + +QUEEN ELINOR +A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!' + +KING JOHN +Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. + +CHATILLON +Philip of France, in right and true behalf +Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, +Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim +To this fair island and the territories, +To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +Desiring thee to lay aside the sword +Which sways usurpingly these several titles, +And put these same into young Arthur's hand, +Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. + +KING JOHN +What follows if we disallow of this? + +CHATILLON +The proud control of fierce and bloody war, +To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. + +KING JOHN +Here have we war for war and blood for blood, +Controlment for controlment: so answer France. + +CHATILLON +Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, +The farthest limit of my embassy. + +KING JOHN +Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: +Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; +For ere thou canst report I will be there, +The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: +So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath +And sullen presage of your own decay. +An honourable conduct let him have: +Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon. + +Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE + +QUEEN ELINOR +What now, my son! have I not ever said +How that ambitious Constance would not cease +Till she had kindled France and all the world, +Upon the right and party of her son? +This might have been prevented and made whole +With very easy arguments of love, +Which now the manage of two kingdoms must +With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + +KING JOHN +Our strong possession and our right for us. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Your strong possession much more than your right, +Or else it must go wrong with you and me: +So much my conscience whispers in your ear, +Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. + +Enter a Sheriff + +ESSEX +My liege, here is the strangest controversy +Come from country to be judged by you, +That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men? + +KING JOHN +Let them approach. +Our abbeys and our priories shall pay +This expedition's charge. + +Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD + +What men are you? + +BASTARD +Your faithful subject I, a gentleman +Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son, +As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, +A soldier, by the honour-giving hand +Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field. + +KING JOHN +What art thou? + +ROBERT +The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. + +KING JOHN +Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? +You came not of one mother then, it seems. + +BASTARD +Most certain of one mother, mighty king; +That is well known; and, as I think, one father: +But for the certain knowledge of that truth +I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother: +Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother +And wound her honour with this diffidence. + +BASTARD +I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; +That is my brother's plea and none of mine; +The which if he can prove, a' pops me out +At least from fair five hundred pound a year: +Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land! + +KING JOHN +A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born, +Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? + +BASTARD +I know not why, except to get the land. +But once he slander'd me with bastardy: +But whether I be as true begot or no, +That still I lay upon my mother's head, +But that I am as well begot, my liege,-- +Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-- +Compare our faces and be judge yourself. +If old sir Robert did beget us both +And were our father and this son like him, +O old sir Robert, father, on my knee +I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee! + +KING JOHN +Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! + +QUEEN ELINOR +He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face; +The accent of his tongue affecteth him. +Do you not read some tokens of my son +In the large composition of this man? + +KING JOHN +Mine eye hath well examined his parts +And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, +What doth move you to claim your brother's land? + +BASTARD +Because he hath a half-face, like my father. +With half that face would he have all my land: +A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year! + +ROBERT +My gracious liege, when that my father lived, +Your brother did employ my father much,-- + +BASTARD +Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: +Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother. + +ROBERT +And once dispatch'd him in an embassy +To Germany, there with the emperor +To treat of high affairs touching that time. +The advantage of his absence took the king +And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; +Where how he did prevail I shame to speak, +But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores +Between my father and my mother lay, +As I have heard my father speak himself, +When this same lusty gentleman was got. +Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd +His lands to me, and took it on his death +That this my mother's son was none of his; +And if he were, he came into the world +Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. +Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, +My father's land, as was my father's will. + +KING JOHN +Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; +Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him, +And if she did play false, the fault was hers; +Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands +That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, +Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, +Had of your father claim'd this son for his? +In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept +This calf bred from his cow from all the world; +In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's, +My brother might not claim him; nor your father, +Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes; +My mother's son did get your father's heir; +Your father's heir must have your father's land. + +ROBERT +Shall then my father's will be of no force +To dispossess that child which is not his? + +BASTARD +Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, +Than was his will to get me, as I think. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge +And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, +Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion, +Lord of thy presence and no land beside? + +BASTARD +Madam, an if my brother had my shape, +And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him; +And if my legs were two such riding-rods, +My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin +That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose +Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!' +And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, +Would I might never stir from off this place, +I would give it every foot to have this face; +I would not be sir Nob in any case. + +QUEEN ELINOR +I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, +Bequeath thy land to him and follow me? +I am a soldier and now bound to France. + +BASTARD +Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance. +Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, +Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear. +Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Nay, I would have you go before me thither. + +BASTARD +Our country manners give our betters way. + +KING JOHN +What is thy name? + +BASTARD +Philip, my liege, so is my name begun, +Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son. + +KING JOHN +From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st: +Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great, +Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet. + +BASTARD +Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand: +My father gave me honour, yours gave land. +Now blessed by the hour, by night or day, +When I was got, sir Robert was away! + +QUEEN ELINOR +The very spirit of Plantagenet! +I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. + +BASTARD +Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though? +Something about, a little from the right, +In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: +Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, +And have is have, however men do catch: +Near or far off, well won is still well shot, +And I am I, howe'er I was begot. + +KING JOHN +Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire; +A landless knight makes thee a landed squire. +Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed +For France, for France, for it is more than need. + +BASTARD +Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee! +For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. + +Exeunt all but BASTARD + +A foot of honour better than I was; +But many a many foot of land the worse. +Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. +'Good den, sir Richard!'--'God-a-mercy, fellow!'-- +And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; +For new-made honour doth forget men's names; +'Tis too respective and too sociable +For your conversion. Now your traveller, +He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, +And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, +Why then I suck my teeth and catechise +My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,' +Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, +'I shall beseech you'--that is question now; +And then comes answer like an Absey book: +'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command; +At your employment; at your service, sir;' +'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:' +And so, ere answer knows what question would, +Saving in dialogue of compliment, +And talking of the Alps and Apennines, +The Pyrenean and the river Po, +It draws toward supper in conclusion so. +But this is worshipful society +And fits the mounting spirit like myself, +For he is but a bastard to the time +That doth not smack of observation; +And so am I, whether I smack or no; +And not alone in habit and device, +Exterior form, outward accoutrement, +But from the inward motion to deliver +Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: +Which, though I will not practise to deceive, +Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; +For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. +But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? +What woman-post is this? hath she no husband +That will take pains to blow a horn before her? + +Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY + +O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! +What brings you here to court so hastily? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he, +That holds in chase mine honour up and down? + +BASTARD +My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son? +Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? +Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy, +Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert? +He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou. + +BASTARD +James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? + +GURNEY +Good leave, good Philip. + +BASTARD +Philip! sparrow: James, +There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more. + +Exit GURNEY + +Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son: +Sir Robert might have eat his part in me +Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast: +Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess, +Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it: +We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother, +To whom am I beholding for these limbs? +Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, +That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? +What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? + +BASTARD +Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. +What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder. +But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son; +I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land; +Legitimation, name and all is gone: +Then, good my mother, let me know my father; +Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? + +BASTARD +As faithfully as I deny the devil. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father: +By long and vehement suit I was seduced +To make room for him in my husband's bed: +Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! +Thou art the issue of my dear offence, +Which was so strongly urged past my defence. + +BASTARD +Now, by this light, were I to get again, +Madam, I would not wish a better father. +Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, +And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: +Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, +Subjected tribute to commanding love, +Against whose fury and unmatched force +The aweless lion could not wage the fight, +Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. +He that perforce robs lions of their hearts +May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, +With all my heart I thank thee for my father! +Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well +When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. +Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin; +And they shall say, when Richard me begot, +If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: +Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. France. Before Angiers. + +Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side: on the other KING PHILIP and his power; LEWIS, ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants +LEWIS +Before Angiers well met, brave Austria. +Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, +Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart +And fought the holy wars in Palestine, +By this brave duke came early to his grave: +And for amends to his posterity, +At our importance hither is he come, +To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, +And to rebuke the usurpation +Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: +Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. + +ARTHUR +God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death +The rather that you give his offspring life, +Shadowing their right under your wings of war: +I give you welcome with a powerless hand, +But with a heart full of unstained love: +Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. + +LEWIS +A noble boy! Who would not do thee right? + +AUSTRIA +Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, +As seal to this indenture of my love, +That to my home I will no more return, +Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, +Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, +Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides +And coops from other lands her islanders, +Even till that England, hedged in with the main, +That water-walled bulwark, still secure +And confident from foreign purposes, +Even till that utmost corner of the west +Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, +Will I not think of home, but follow arms. + +CONSTANCE +O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, +Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength +To make a more requital to your love! + +AUSTRIA +The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords +In such a just and charitable war. + +KING PHILIP +Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent +Against the brows of this resisting town. +Call for our chiefest men of discipline, +To cull the plots of best advantages: +We'll lay before this town our royal bones, +Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, +But we will make it subject to this boy. + +CONSTANCE +Stay for an answer to your embassy, +Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: +My Lord Chatillon may from England bring, +That right in peace which here we urge in war, +And then we shall repent each drop of blood +That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. + +Enter CHATILLON + +KING PHILIP +A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, +Our messenger Chatillon is arrived! +What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; +We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak. + +CHATILLON +Then turn your forces from this paltry siege +And stir them up against a mightier task. +England, impatient of your just demands, +Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, +Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time +To land his legions all as soon as I; +His marches are expedient to this town, +His forces strong, his soldiers confident. +With him along is come the mother-queen, +An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; +With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain; +With them a bastard of the king's deceased, +And all the unsettled humours of the land, +Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, +With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, +Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, +Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, +To make hazard of new fortunes here: +In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits +Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er +Did nearer float upon the swelling tide, +To do offence and scath in Christendom. + +Drum beats + +The interruption of their churlish drums +Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, +To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. + +KING PHILIP +How much unlook'd for is this expedition! + +AUSTRIA +By how much unexpected, by so much +We must awake endavour for defence; +For courage mounteth with occasion: +Let them be welcome then: we are prepared. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, Lords, and forces + +KING JOHN +Peace be to France, if France in peace permit +Our just and lineal entrance to our own; +If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, +Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct +Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven. + +KING PHILIP +Peace be to England, if that war return +From France to England, there to live in peace. +England we love; and for that England's sake +With burden of our armour here we sweat. +This toil of ours should be a work of thine; +But thou from loving England art so far, +That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king +Cut off the sequence of posterity, +Out-faced infant state and done a rape +Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. +Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; +These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his: +This little abstract doth contain that large +Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time +Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. +That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, +And this his son; England was Geffrey's right +And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God +How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, +When living blood doth in these temples beat, +Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? + +KING JOHN +From whom hast thou this great commission, France, +To draw my answer from thy articles? + +KING PHILIP +From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts +In any breast of strong authority, +To look into the blots and stains of right: +That judge hath made me guardian to this boy: +Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong +And by whose help I mean to chastise it. + +KING JOHN +Alack, thou dost usurp authority. + +KING PHILIP +Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + +CONSTANCE +Let me make answer; thy usurping son. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king, +That thou mayst be a queen, and cheque the world! + +CONSTANCE +My bed was ever to thy son as true +As thine was to thy husband; and this boy +Liker in feature to his father Geffrey +Than thou and John in manners; being as like +As rain to water, or devil to his dam. +My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think +His father never was so true begot: +It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + +QUEEN ELINOR +There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + +CONSTANCE +There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! + +BASTARD +Hear the crier. + +AUSTRIA +What the devil art thou? + +BASTARD +One that will play the devil, sir, with you, +An a' may catch your hide and you alone: +You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, +Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard; +I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; +Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. + +BLANCH +O, well did he become that lion's robe +That did disrobe the lion of that robe! + +BASTARD +It lies as sightly on the back of him +As great Alcides' shows upon an ass: +But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back, +Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. + +AUSTRIA +What craker is this same that deafs our ears +With this abundance of superfluous breath? + +KING PHILIP +Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. + +LEWIS +Women and fools, break off your conference. +King John, this is the very sum of all; +England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +In right of Arthur do I claim of thee: +Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? + +KING JOHN +My life as soon: I do defy thee, France. +Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand; +And out of my dear love I'll give thee more +Than e'er the coward hand of France can win: +Submit thee, boy. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Come to thy grandam, child. + +CONSTANCE +Do, child, go to it grandam, child: +Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will +Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig: +There's a good grandam. + +ARTHUR +Good my mother, peace! +I would that I were low laid in my grave: +I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + +QUEEN ELINOR +His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + +CONSTANCE +Now shame upon you, whether she does or no! +His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, +Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, +Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; +Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed +To do him justice and revenge on you. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! + +CONSTANCE +Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth! +Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp +The dominations, royalties and rights +Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eld'st son's son, +Infortunate in nothing but in thee: +Thy sins are visited in this poor child; +The canon of the law is laid on him, +Being but the second generation +Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. + +KING JOHN +Bedlam, have done. + +CONSTANCE +I have but this to say, +That he is not only plagued for her sin, +But God hath made her sin and her the plague +On this removed issue, plague for her +And with her plague; her sin his injury, +Her injury the beadle to her sin, +All punish'd in the person of this child, +And all for her; a plague upon her! + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou unadvised scold, I can produce +A will that bars the title of thy son. + +CONSTANCE +Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will: +A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will! + +KING PHILIP +Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate: +It ill beseems this presence to cry aim +To these ill-tuned repetitions. +Some trumpet summon hither to the walls +These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak +Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. + +Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls + +First Citizen +Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls? + +KING PHILIP +'Tis France, for England. + +KING JOHN +England, for itself. +You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-- + +KING PHILIP +You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects, +Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle-- + +KING JOHN +For our advantage; therefore hear us first. +These flags of France, that are advanced here +Before the eye and prospect of your town, +Have hither march'd to your endamagement: +The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, +And ready mounted are they to spit forth +Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls: +All preparation for a bloody siege +All merciless proceeding by these French +Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates; +And but for our approach those sleeping stones, +That as a waist doth girdle you about, +By the compulsion of their ordinance +By this time from their fixed beds of lime +Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made +For bloody power to rush upon your peace. +But on the sight of us your lawful king, +Who painfully with much expedient march +Have brought a countercheque before your gates, +To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks, +Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle; +And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, +To make a shaking fever in your walls, +They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke, +To make a faithless error in your ears: +Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, +And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits, +Forwearied in this action of swift speed, +Crave harbourage within your city walls. + +KING PHILIP +When I have said, make answer to us both. +Lo, in this right hand, whose protection +Is most divinely vow'd upon the right +Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, +Son to the elder brother of this man, +And king o'er him and all that he enjoys: +For this down-trodden equity, we tread +In warlike march these greens before your town, +Being no further enemy to you +Than the constraint of hospitable zeal +In the relief of this oppressed child +Religiously provokes. Be pleased then +To pay that duty which you truly owe +To that owes it, namely this young prince: +And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, +Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up; +Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent +Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; +And with a blessed and unvex'd retire, +With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised, +We will bear home that lusty blood again +Which here we came to spout against your town, +And leave your children, wives and you in peace. +But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, +'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls +Can hide you from our messengers of war, +Though all these English and their discipline +Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. +Then tell us, shall your city call us lord, +In that behalf which we have challenged it? +Or shall we give the signal to our rage +And stalk in blood to our possession? + +First Citizen +In brief, we are the king of England's subjects: +For him, and in his right, we hold this town. + +KING JOHN +Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. + +First Citizen +That can we not; but he that proves the king, +To him will we prove loyal: till that time +Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. + +KING JOHN +Doth not the crown of England prove the king? +And if not that, I bring you witnesses, +Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,-- + +BASTARD +Bastards, and else. + +KING JOHN +To verify our title with their lives. + +KING PHILIP +As many and as well-born bloods as those,-- + +BASTARD +Some bastards too. + +KING PHILIP +Stand in his face to contradict his claim. + +First Citizen +Till you compound whose right is worthiest, +We for the worthiest hold the right from both. + +KING JOHN +Then God forgive the sin of all those souls +That to their everlasting residence, +Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, +In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king! + +KING PHILIP +Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms! + +BASTARD +Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since +Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, +Teach us some fence! + +To AUSTRIA + +Sirrah, were I at home, +At your den, sirrah, with your lioness +I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, +And make a monster of you. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! no more. + +BASTARD +O tremble, for you hear the lion roar. + +KING JOHN +Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth +In best appointment all our regiments. + +BASTARD +Speed then, to take advantage of the field. + +KING PHILIP +It shall be so; and at the other hill +Command the rest to stand. God and our right! + +Exeunt + +Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France, with trumpets, to the gates + +French Herald +You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, +And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, +Who by the hand of France this day hath made +Much work for tears in many an English mother, +Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; +Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, +Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth; +And victory, with little loss, doth play +Upon the dancing banners of the French, +Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, +To enter conquerors and to proclaim +Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours. + +Enter English Herald, with trumpet + +English Herald +Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells: +King John, your king and England's doth approach, +Commander of this hot malicious day: +Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, +Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; +There stuck no plume in any English crest +That is removed by a staff of France; +Our colours do return in those same hands +That did display them when we first march'd forth; +And, like a troop of jolly huntsmen, come +Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, +Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes: +Open your gates and gives the victors way. + +First Citizen +Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, +From first to last, the onset and retire +Of both your armies; whose equality +By our best eyes cannot be censured: +Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows; +Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: +Both are alike; and both alike we like. +One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, +We hold our town for neither, yet for both. + +Re-enter KING JOHN and KING PHILIP, with their powers, severally + +KING JOHN +France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? +Say, shall the current of our right run on? +Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, +Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell +With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, +Unless thou let his silver water keep +A peaceful progress to the ocean. + +KING PHILIP +England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood, +In this hot trial, more than we of France; +Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, +That sways the earth this climate overlooks, +Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, +We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, +Or add a royal number to the dead, +Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss +With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. + +BASTARD +Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, +When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! +O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; +The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; +And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men, +In undetermined differences of kings. +Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? +Cry, 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field, +You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits! +Then let confusion of one part confirm +The other's peace: till then, blows, blood and death! + +KING JOHN +Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? + +KING PHILIP +Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king? + +First Citizen +The king of England; when we know the king. + +KING PHILIP +Know him in us, that here hold up his right. + +KING JOHN +In us, that are our own great deputy +And bear possession of our person here, +Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. + +First Citizen +A greater power then we denies all this; +And till it be undoubted, we do lock +Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; +King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolved, +Be by some certain king purged and deposed. + +BASTARD +By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings, +And stand securely on their battlements, +As in a theatre, whence they gape and point +At your industrious scenes and acts of death. +Your royal presences be ruled by me: +Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, +Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend +Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: +By east and west let France and England mount +Their battering cannon charged to the mouths, +Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down +The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: +I'ld play incessantly upon these jades, +Even till unfenced desolation +Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. +That done, dissever your united strengths, +And part your mingled colours once again; +Turn face to face and bloody point to point; +Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth +Out of one side her happy minion, +To whom in favour she shall give the day, +And kiss him with a glorious victory. +How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? +Smacks it not something of the policy? + +KING JOHN +Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, +I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers +And lay this Angiers even to the ground; +Then after fight who shall be king of it? + +BASTARD +An if thou hast the mettle of a king, +Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, +Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, +As we will ours, against these saucy walls; +And when that we have dash'd them to the ground, +Why then defy each other and pell-mell +Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. + +KING PHILIP +Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? + +KING JOHN +We from the west will send destruction +Into this city's bosom. + +AUSTRIA +I from the north. + +KING PHILIP +Our thunder from the south +Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. + +BASTARD +O prudent discipline! From north to south: +Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: +I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away! + +First Citizen +Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay, +And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league; +Win you this city without stroke or wound; +Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, +That here come sacrifices for the field: +Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. + +KING JOHN +Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. + +First Citizen +That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, +Is niece to England: look upon the years +Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid: +If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, +Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? +If zealous love should go in search of virtue, +Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? +If love ambitious sought a match of birth, +Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch? +Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, +Is the young Dauphin every way complete: +If not complete of, say he is not she; +And she again wants nothing, to name want, +If want it be not that she is not he: +He is the half part of a blessed man, +Left to be finished by such as she; +And she a fair divided excellence, +Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. +O, two such silver currents, when they join, +Do glorify the banks that bound them in; +And two such shores to two such streams made one, +Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, +To these two princes, if you marry them. +This union shall do more than battery can +To our fast-closed gates; for at this match, +With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, +The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, +And give you entrance: but without this match, +The sea enraged is not half so deaf, +Lions more confident, mountains and rocks +More free from motion, no, not Death himself +In moral fury half so peremptory, +As we to keep this city. + +BASTARD +Here's a stay +That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death +Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, +That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas, +Talks as familiarly of roaring lions +As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! +What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? +He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce; +He gives the bastinado with his tongue: +Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his +But buffets better than a fist of France: +Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words +Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; +Give with our niece a dowry large enough: +For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie +Thy now unsured assurance to the crown, +That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe +The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. +I see a yielding in the looks of France; +Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls +Are capable of this ambition, +Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath +Of soft petitions, pity and remorse, +Cool and congeal again to what it was. + +First Citizen +Why answer not the double majesties +This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? + +KING PHILIP +Speak England first, that hath been forward first +To speak unto this city: what say you? + +KING JOHN +If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, +Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,' +Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: +For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, +And all that we upon this side the sea, +Except this city now by us besieged, +Find liable to our crown and dignity, +Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich +In titles, honours and promotions, +As she in beauty, education, blood, +Holds hand with any princess of the world. + +KING PHILIP +What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. + +LEWIS +I do, my lord; and in her eye I find +A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, +The shadow of myself form'd in her eye: +Which being but the shadow of your son, +Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow: +I do protest I never loved myself +Till now infixed I beheld myself +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. + +Whispers with BLANCH + +BASTARD +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! +Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! +And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy +Himself love's traitor: this is pity now, +That hang'd and drawn and quartered, there should be +In such a love so vile a lout as he. + +BLANCH +My uncle's will in this respect is mine: +If he see aught in you that makes him like, +That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, +I can with ease translate it to my will; +Or if you will, to speak more properly, +I will enforce it easily to my love. +Further I will not flatter you, my lord, +That all I see in you is worthy love, +Than this; that nothing do I see in you, +Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, +That I can find should merit any hate. + +KING JOHN +What say these young ones? What say you my niece? + +BLANCH +That she is bound in honour still to do +What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. + +KING JOHN +Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady? + +LEWIS +Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; +For I do love her most unfeignedly. + +KING JOHN +Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, +Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, +With her to thee; and this addition more, +Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. +Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, +Command thy son and daughter to join hands. + +KING PHILIP +It likes us well; young princes, close your hands. + +AUSTRIA +And your lips too; for I am well assured +That I did so when I was first assured. + +KING PHILIP +Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, +Let in that amity which you have made; +For at Saint Mary's chapel presently +The rites of marriage shall be solemnized. +Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? +I know she is not, for this match made up +Her presence would have interrupted much: +Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows. + +LEWIS +She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. + +KING PHILIP +And, by my faith, this league that we have made +Will give her sadness very little cure. +Brother of England, how may we content +This widow lady? In her right we came; +Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way, +To our own vantage. + +KING JOHN +We will heal up all; +For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne +And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town +We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance; +Some speedy messenger bid her repair +To our solemnity: I trust we shall, +If not fill up the measure of her will, +Yet in some measure satisfy her so +That we shall stop her exclamation. +Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, +To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp. + +Exeunt all but the BASTARD + +BASTARD +Mad world! mad kings! mad composition! +John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, +Hath willingly departed with a part, +And France, whose armour conscience buckled on, +Whom zeal and charity brought to the field +As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear +With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, +That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith, +That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, +Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, +Who, having no external thing to lose +But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that, +That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity, +Commodity, the bias of the world, +The world, who of itself is peised well, +Made to run even upon even ground, +Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, +This sway of motion, this Commodity, +Makes it take head from all indifferency, +From all direction, purpose, course, intent: +And this same bias, this Commodity, +This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, +Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, +Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, +From a resolved and honourable war, +To a most base and vile-concluded peace. +And why rail I on this Commodity? +But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: +Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, +When his fair angels would salute my palm; +But for my hand, as unattempted yet, +Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. +Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail +And say there is no sin but to be rich; +And being rich, my virtue then shall be +To say there is no vice but beggary. +Since kings break faith upon commodity, +Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee. + +Exit + +The Life and Death of Richard the Second +Shakespeare homepage | Richard II | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD II's palace. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other Nobles and Attendants +KING RICHARD II +Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, +Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD II +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, +If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD II +Then call them to our presence; face to face, +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak: +High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befal +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness; +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown! + +KING RICHARD II +We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come; +Namely to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +First, heaven be the record to my speech! +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tendering the precious safety of my prince, +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence. +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, +And mark my greeting well; for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth, +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain; +The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hush'd and nought at all to say: +First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; +Which else would post until it had return'd +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him; +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain: +Which to maintain I would allow him odds, +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, +Or any other ground inhabitable, +Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. +Mean time let this defend my loyalty, +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the king, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: +By that and all the rites of knighthood else, +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +I take it up; and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree, +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: +And when I mount, alive may I not light, +If I be traitor or unjustly fight! + +KING RICHARD II +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true; +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was survey'd by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. +Further I say and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood: +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries, +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, +To me for justice and rough chastisement; +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD II +How high a pitch his resolution soars! +Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood, +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD II +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears: +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow, +Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul: +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou: +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account, +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen: +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not; but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case. +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honourable father to my foe +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul +But ere I last received the sacrament +I did confess it, and exactly begg'd +Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. +This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd, +It issues from the rancour of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor +Which in myself I boldly will defend; +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +To prove myself a loyal gentleman +Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. +In haste whereof, most heartily I pray +Your highness to assign our trial day. + +KING RICHARD II +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me; +Let's purge this choler without letting blood: +This we prescribe, though no physician; +Deep malice makes too deep incision; +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age: +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD II +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: +The one my duty owes; but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD II +Rage must be withstood: +Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame. +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation: that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: +Take honour from me, and my life is done: +Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; +In that I live and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear, +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. + +Exit JOHN OF GAUNT + +KING RICHARD II +We were not born to sue, but to command; +Which since we cannot do to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day: +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate: +Since we can not atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry. +Lord marshal, command our officers at arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS +JOHN OF GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, +To stir against the butchers of his life! +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; +Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, +Or seven fair branches springing from one root: +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb, +That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death, +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair: +In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: +That which in mean men we intitle patience +Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully, +Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where then, alas, may I complain myself? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defence. + +DUCHESS +Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight: +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or, if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, +They may break his foaming courser's back, +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife +With her companion grief must end her life. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry: +As much good stay with thee as go with me! + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all:--nay, yet depart not so; +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there, +To seek out sorrow that dwells every where. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die: +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The lists at Coventry. + +Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE +Lord Marshal +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. + +Lord Marshal +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay +For nothing but his majesty's approach. + +The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms: +Ask him his name and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +In God's name and the king's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel: +Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; +As so defend thee heaven and thy valour! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk; +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me +And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me: +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armour, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby +Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, +To God of heaven, King Richard and to me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +Lord Marshal +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, +And bow my knee before his majesty: +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +Lord Marshal +The appellant in all duty greets your highness, +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD II +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight! +Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, +Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O let no noble eye profane a tear +For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you; +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: +O thou, the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, +Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, +And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous! +Be swift like lightning in the execution; +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just and upright gentleman: +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege, and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years: +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD II +Farewell, my lord: securely I espy +Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +Lord Marshal +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen. + +Lord Marshal +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. + +First Herald +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king and him; +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +Second Herald +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +Lord Marshal +Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. + +A charge sounded + +Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD II +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again: +Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. + +A long flourish + +Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; +Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood, +Therefore, we banish you our territories: +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done: this must my comfort be, +Sun that warms you here shall shine on me; +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile; +The hopeless word of 'never to return' +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your highness' hands. +The language I have learn'd these forty years, +My native English, now I must forego: +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony: +Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, +Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my gaoler to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now: +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? + +KING RICHARD II +It boots thee not to be compassionate: +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. + +KING RICHARD II +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God! +Embrace each other's love in banishment; +Nor never look upon each other's face; +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I swear. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +And I, to keep all this. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:-- +By this time, had the king permitted us, +One of our souls had wander'd in the air. +Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banish'd as from hence! +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know; +And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banish'd years +Pluck'd four away. + +To HENRY BOLINGBROKE + +Six frozen winter spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word: such is the breath of kings. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I thank my liege, that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile: +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times about +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD II +Why uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD II +Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge; but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. +Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, +I was too strict to make mine own away; +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so: +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +Lord Marshal +My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +What is six winters? they are quickly gone. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus; +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the king did banish thee, +But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit, +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour +And not the king exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime: +Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O, no! the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way: +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; +My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The court. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, with BAGOT and GREEN at one door; and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another +KING RICHARD II +We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD II +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD II +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +'Farewell:' +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells; +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD II +He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green +Observed his courtship to the common people; +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' +As were our England in reversion his, +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD II +We will ourself in person to this war: +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are inforced to farm our royal realm; +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand: if that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants; +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +Enter BUSHY + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste +To entreat your majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD II +Where lies he? + +BUSHY +At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD II +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: +Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! + +All +Amen. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Ely House. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT sick, with the DUKE OF YORK, & c +JOHN OF GAUNT +Will the king come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +DUKE OF YORK +Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony: +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. +He that no more must say is listen'd more +Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; +More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before: +The setting sun, and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past: +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +DUKE OF YORK +No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, +Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose: +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder: +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall, +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home, +For Christian service and true chivalry, +As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, +Like to a tenement or pelting farm: +England, bound in with the triumphant sea +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: +That England, that was wont to conquer others, +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +Enter KING RICHARD II and QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, LORD ROSS, and LORD WILLOUGHBY + +DUKE OF YORK +The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; +For young hot colts being raged do rage the more. + +QUEEN +How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD II +What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, +Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks; +And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. + +KING RICHARD II +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself: +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD II +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD II +Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD II +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; +Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. +Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee: +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; +And yet, incaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd, +Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king: +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou-- + +KING RICHARD II +A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son; +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused: +My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls! +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood: +Join with the present sickness that I have; +And thy unkindness be like crooked age, +To crop at once a too long wither'd flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be! +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: +Love they to live that love and honour have. + +Exit, borne off by his Attendants + +KING RICHARD II +And let them die that age and sullens have; +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +DUKE OF YORK +I do beseech your majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him: +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD II +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. + +KING RICHARD II +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, nothing; all is said +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +DUKE OF YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD II +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, corn, revenues and moveables, +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. + +DUKE OF YORK +How long shall I be patient? ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment +Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, +Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours; +But when he frown'd, it was against the French +And not against his friends; his noble hand +Did will what he did spend and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won; +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD II +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +DUKE OF YORK +O my liege, +Pardon me, if you please; if n ot, I, pleased +Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patent that he hath +By his attorneys-general to sue +His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts +And prick my tender patience, to those thoughts +Which honour and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD II +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money and his lands. + +DUKE OF YORK +I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: +What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight: +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. To-morrow next +We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow: +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York lord governor of England; +For he is just and always loved us well. +Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part; +Be merry, for our time of stay is short + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II, QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, and BAGOT + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +LORD ROSS +And living too; for now his son is duke. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +LORD ROSS +My heart is great; but it must break with silence, +Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man; +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +LORD ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him; +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many moe +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The king is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform, +Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, +That will the king severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +LORD ROSS +The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: +But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows: +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +LORD ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +LORD ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +LORD ROSS +We see the very wreck that we must suffer; +And unavoided is the danger now, +For suffering so the causes of our wreck. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +LORD ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland: +We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, +Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay +In Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint, +All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the king for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh; +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +LORD ROSS +To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT +BUSHY +Madam, your majesty is too much sad: +You promised, when you parted with the king, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the king I did; to please myself +I cannot do it; yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks, +Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves, +More than with parting from my lord the king. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, +Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; +For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects; +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail; +Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen; +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so; but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad +As, though on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief; mine is not so, +For nothing had begot my something grief; +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: +'Tis in reversion that I do possess; +But what it is, that is not yet known; what +I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. + +Enter GREEN + +GREEN +God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: +I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is; +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power, +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land: +The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN +Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, +And all the household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN +Who shall hinder me? +I will despair, and be at enmity +With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +Enter DUKE OF YORK + +GREEN +Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck: +O, full of careful business are his looks! +Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. + +DUKE OF YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: +Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off, +Whilst others come to make him lose at home: +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +DUKE OF YORK +He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! +The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: +Hold, take my ring. + +Servant +My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, +To-day, as I came by, I called there; +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +DUKE OF YORK +What is't, knave? + +Servant +An hour before I came, the duchess died. + +DUKE OF YORK +God for his mercy! what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do: I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The king had cut off my head with my brother's. +What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars? +Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me. +Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts +And bring away the armour that is there. + +Exit Servant + +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen: +The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; the other again +Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll +Dispose of you. +Gentlemen, go, muster up your men, +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too; +But time will not permit: all is uneven, +And every thing is left at six and seven. + +Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the king in love +Is near the hate of those love not the king. + +BAGOT +And that's the wavering commons: for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. + +BAGOT +If judgement lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the king. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle: +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you; for little office +The hateful commons will perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No; I will to Ireland to his majesty. +Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, +We three here art that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes +Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry: +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +The Life and Death of Richard the Third +Shakespeare homepage | Richard III | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, solus +GLOUCESTER +Now is the winter of our discontent +Made glorious summer by this sun of York; +And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house +In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. +Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; +Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; +Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, +Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. +Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; +And now, instead of mounting barded steeds +To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, +He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber +To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. +But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, +Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; +I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty +To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; +I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, +Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, +Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time +Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, +And that so lamely and unfashionable +That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; +Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, +Have no delight to pass away the time, +Unless to spy my shadow in the sun +And descant on mine own deformity: +And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, +To entertain these fair well-spoken days, +I am determined to prove a villain +And hate the idle pleasures of these days. +Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, +By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams, +To set my brother Clarence and the king +In deadly hate the one against the other: +And if King Edward be as true and just +As I am subtle, false and treacherous, +This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, +About a prophecy, which says that 'G' +Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. +Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here +Clarence comes. + +Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY + +Brother, good day; what means this armed guard +That waits upon your grace? + +CLARENCE +His majesty +Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed +This conduct to convey me to the Tower. + +GLOUCESTER +Upon what cause? + +CLARENCE +Because my name is George. + +GLOUCESTER +Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; +He should, for that, commit your godfathers: +O, belike his majesty hath some intent +That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower. +But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? + +CLARENCE +Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest +As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, +He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; +And from the cross-row plucks the letter G. +And says a wizard told him that by G +His issue disinherited should be; +And, for my name of George begins with G, +It follows in his thought that I am he. +These, as I learn, and such like toys as these +Have moved his highness to commit me now. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women: +'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower: +My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she +That tempers him to this extremity. +Was it not she and that good man of worship, +Anthony Woodville, her brother there, +That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, +From whence this present day he is deliver'd? +We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I think there's no man is secure +But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds +That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. +Heard ye not what an humble suppliant +Lord hastings was to her for his delivery? + +GLOUCESTER +Humbly complaining to her deity +Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. +I'll tell you what; I think it is our way, +If we will keep in favour with the king, +To be her men and wear her livery: +The jealous o'erworn widow and herself, +Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen. +Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your graces both to pardon me; +His majesty hath straitly given in charge +That no man shall have private conference, +Of what degree soever, with his brother. + +GLOUCESTER +Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, +You may partake of any thing we say: +We speak no treason, man: we say the king +Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen +Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; +We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, +A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; +And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks: +How say you sir? Can you deny all this? + +BRAKENBURY +With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. + +GLOUCESTER +Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow, +He that doth naught with her, excepting one, +Were best he do it secretly, alone. + +BRAKENBURY +What one, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me? + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal +Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + +CLARENCE +We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. + +GLOUCESTER +We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. +Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; +And whatsoever you will employ me in, +Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, +I will perform it to enfranchise you. +Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood +Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + +CLARENCE +I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; +Meantime, have patience. + +CLARENCE +I must perforce. Farewell. + +Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard + +GLOUCESTER +Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. +Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, +That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, +If heaven will take the present at our hands. +But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? + +Enter HASTINGS + +HASTINGS +Good time of day unto my gracious lord! + +GLOUCESTER +As much unto my good lord chamberlain! +Well are you welcome to the open air. +How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? + +HASTINGS +With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: +But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks +That were the cause of my imprisonment. + +GLOUCESTER +No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; +For they that were your enemies are his, +And have prevail'd as much on him as you. + +HASTINGS +More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, +While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +What news abroad? + +HASTINGS +No news so bad abroad as this at home; +The King is sickly, weak and melancholy, +And his physicians fear him mightily. + +GLOUCESTER +Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. +O, he hath kept an evil diet long, +And overmuch consumed his royal person: +'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. +What, is he in his bed? + +HASTINGS +He is. + +GLOUCESTER +Go you before, and I will follow you. + +Exit HASTINGS + +He cannot live, I hope; and must not die +Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven. +I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, +With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; +And, if I fall not in my deep intent, +Clarence hath not another day to live: +Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, +And leave the world for me to bustle in! +For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. +What though I kill'd her husband and her father? +The readiest way to make the wench amends +Is to become her husband and her father: +The which will I; not all so much for love +As for another secret close intent, +By marrying her which I must reach unto. +But yet I run before my horse to market: +Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: +When they are gone, then must I count my gains. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. Another street. + +Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner +LADY ANNE +Set down, set down your honourable load, +If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, +Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament +The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. +Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! +Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! +Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! +Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, +To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne, +Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, +Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! +Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, +I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. +Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! +Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it! +Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! +More direful hap betide that hated wretch, +That makes us wretched by the death of thee, +Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, +Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! +If ever he have child, abortive be it, +Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, +Whose ugly and unnatural aspect +May fright the hopeful mother at the view; +And that be heir to his unhappiness! +If ever he have wife, let her he made +A miserable by the death of him +As I am made by my poor lord and thee! +Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, +Taken from Paul's to be interred there; +And still, as you are weary of the weight, +Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + +LADY ANNE +What black magician conjures up this fiend, +To stop devoted charitable deeds? + +GLOUCESTER +Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, +I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. + +Gentleman +My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. + +GLOUCESTER +Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: +Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, +Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, +And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. + +LADY ANNE +What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? +Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, +And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. +Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! +Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, +His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone. + +GLOUCESTER +Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + +LADY ANNE +Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; +For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, +Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. +If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, +Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. +O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds +Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! +Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity; +For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood +From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; +Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, +Provokes this deluge most unnatural. +O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death! +O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death! +Either heaven with lightning strike the +murderer dead, +Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, +As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood +Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! + +GLOUCESTER +Lady, you know no rules of charity, +Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + +LADY ANNE +Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: +No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + +GLOUCESTER +But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + +LADY ANNE +O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + +GLOUCESTER +More wonderful, when angels are so angry. +Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, +Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, +By circumstance, but to acquit myself. + +LADY ANNE +Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man, +For these known evils, but to give me leave, +By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. + +GLOUCESTER +Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have +Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make +No excuse current, but to hang thyself. + +GLOUCESTER +By such despair, I should accuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; +For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, +Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + +GLOUCESTER +Say that I slew them not? + +LADY ANNE +Why, then they are not dead: +But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee. + +GLOUCESTER +I did not kill your husband. + +LADY ANNE +Why, then he is alive. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. + +LADY ANNE +In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw +Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; +The which thou once didst bend against her breast, +But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + +GLOUCESTER +I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, +which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + +LADY ANNE +Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. +Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries: +Didst thou not kill this king? + +GLOUCESTER +I grant ye. + +LADY ANNE +Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too +Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! +O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! + +GLOUCESTER +The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. + +LADY ANNE +He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; +For he was fitter for that place than earth. + +LADY ANNE +And thou unfit for any place but hell. + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + +LADY ANNE +Some dungeon. + +GLOUCESTER +Your bed-chamber. + +LADY ANNE +I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + +GLOUCESTER +So will it, madam till I lie with you. + +LADY ANNE +I hope so. + +GLOUCESTER +I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, +To leave this keen encounter of our wits, +And fall somewhat into a slower method, +Is not the causer of the timeless deaths +Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, +As blameful as the executioner? + +LADY ANNE +Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. + +GLOUCESTER +Your beauty was the cause of that effect; +Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep +To undertake the death of all the world, +So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + +LADY ANNE +If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, +These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. + +GLOUCESTER +These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck; +You should not blemish it, if I stood by: +As all the world is cheered by the sun, +So I by that; it is my day, my life. + +LADY ANNE +Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! + +GLOUCESTER +Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both. + +LADY ANNE +I would I were, to be revenged on thee. + +GLOUCESTER +It is a quarrel most unnatural, +To be revenged on him that loveth you. + +LADY ANNE +It is a quarrel just and reasonable, +To be revenged on him that slew my husband. + +GLOUCESTER +He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, +Did it to help thee to a better husband. + +LADY ANNE +His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + +GLOUCESTER +He lives that loves thee better than he could. + +LADY ANNE +Name him. + +GLOUCESTER +Plantagenet. + +LADY ANNE +Why, that was he. + +GLOUCESTER +The selfsame name, but one of better nature. + +LADY ANNE +Where is he? + +GLOUCESTER +Here. + +She spitteth at him + +Why dost thou spit at me? + +LADY ANNE +Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! + +GLOUCESTER +Never came poison from so sweet a place. + +LADY ANNE +Never hung poison on a fouler toad. +Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. + +GLOUCESTER +Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + +LADY ANNE +Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! + +GLOUCESTER +I would they were, that I might die at once; +For now they kill me with a living death. +Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, +Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops: +These eyes that never shed remorseful tear, +No, when my father York and Edward wept, +To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made +When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; +Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, +Told the sad story of my father's death, +And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, +That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks +Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time +My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; +And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, +Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. +I never sued to friend nor enemy; +My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; +But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, +My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. + +She looks scornfully at him + +Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made +For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. +If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, +Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; +Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom. +And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, +I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, +And humbly beg the death upon my knee. + +He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword + +Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry, +But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. +Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward, +But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. + +Here she lets fall the sword + +Take up the sword again, or take up me. + +LADY ANNE +Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, +I will not be the executioner. + +GLOUCESTER +Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + +LADY ANNE +I have already. + +GLOUCESTER +Tush, that was in thy rage: +Speak it again, and, even with the word, +That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, +Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; +To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. + +LADY ANNE +I would I knew thy heart. + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis figured in my tongue. + +LADY ANNE +I fear me both are false. + +GLOUCESTER +Then never man was true. + +LADY ANNE +Well, well, put up your sword. + +GLOUCESTER +Say, then, my peace is made. + +LADY ANNE +That shall you know hereafter. + +GLOUCESTER +But shall I live in hope? + +LADY ANNE +All men, I hope, live so. + +GLOUCESTER +Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + +LADY ANNE +To take is not to give. + +GLOUCESTER +Look, how this ring encompasseth finger. +Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; +Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. +And if thy poor devoted suppliant may +But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, +Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. + +LADY ANNE +What is it? + +GLOUCESTER +That it would please thee leave these sad designs +To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, +And presently repair to Crosby Place; +Where, after I have solemnly interr'd +At Chertsey monastery this noble king, +And wet his grave with my repentant tears, +I will with all expedient duty see you: +For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you, +Grant me this boon. + +LADY ANNE +With all my heart; and much it joys me too, +To see you are become so penitent. +Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + +GLOUCESTER +Bid me farewell. + +LADY ANNE +'Tis more than you deserve; +But since you teach me how to flatter you, +Imagine I have said farewell already. + +Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY + +GLOUCESTER +Sirs, take up the corse. + +GENTLEMEN +Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + +GLOUCESTER +No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? +Was ever woman in this humour won? +I'll have her; but I will not keep her long. +What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, +To take her in her heart's extremest hate, +With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, +The bleeding witness of her hatred by; +Having God, her conscience, and these bars +against me, +And I nothing to back my suit at all, +But the plain devil and dissembling looks, +And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! +Ha! +Hath she forgot already that brave prince, +Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, +Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? +A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, +Framed in the prodigality of nature, +Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, +The spacious world cannot again afford +And will she yet debase her eyes on me, +That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, +And made her widow to a woful bed? +On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? +On me, that halt and am unshapen thus? +My dukedom to a beggarly denier, +I do mistake my person all this while: +Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, +Myself to be a marvellous proper man. +I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, +And entertain some score or two of tailors, +To study fashions to adorn my body: +Since I am crept in favour with myself, +Will maintain it with some little cost. +But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave; +And then return lamenting to my love. +Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, +That I may see my shadow as I pass. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY +RIVERS +Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty +Will soon recover his accustom'd health. + +GREY +In that you brook it in, it makes him worse: +Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, +And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +If he were dead, what would betide of me? + +RIVERS +No other harm but loss of such a lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The loss of such a lord includes all harm. + +GREY +The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, +To be your comforter when he is gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, he is young and his minority +Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, +A man that loves not me, nor none of you. + +RIVERS +Is it concluded that he shall be protector? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +It is determined, not concluded yet: +But so it must be, if the king miscarry. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY + +GREY +Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby. + +BUCKINGHAM +Good time of day unto your royal grace! + +DERBY +God make your majesty joyful as you have been! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby. +To your good prayers will scarcely say amen. +Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife, +And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured +I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + +DERBY +I do beseech you, either not believe +The envious slanders of her false accusers; +Or, if she be accused in true report, +Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds +From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. + +RIVERS +Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby? + +DERBY +But now the Duke of Buckingham and I +Are come from visiting his majesty. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What likelihood of his amendment, lords? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +God grant him health! Did you confer with him? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement +Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, +And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; +And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Would all were well! but that will never be +I fear our happiness is at the highest. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET + +GLOUCESTER +They do me wrong, and I will not endure it: +Who are they that complain unto the king, +That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? +By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly +That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. +Because I cannot flatter and speak fair, +Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog, +Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, +I must be held a rancorous enemy. +Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, +But thus his simple truth must be abused +By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + +RIVERS +To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? + +GLOUCESTER +To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. +When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong? +Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction? +A plague upon you all! His royal person,-- +Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-- +Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while, +But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. +The king, of his own royal disposition, +And not provoked by any suitor else; +Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, +Which in your outward actions shows itself +Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, +Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather +The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad, +That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch: +Since every Jack became a gentleman +There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Come, come, we know your meaning, brother +Gloucester; +You envy my advancement and my friends': +God grant we never may have need of you! + +GLOUCESTER +Meantime, God grants that we have need of you: +Your brother is imprison'd by your means, +Myself disgraced, and the nobility +Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions +Are daily given to ennoble those +That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +By Him that raised me to this careful height +From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, +I never did incense his majesty +Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been +An earnest advocate to plead for him. +My lord, you do me shameful injury, +Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + +GLOUCESTER +You may deny that you were not the cause +Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + +RIVERS +She may, my lord, for-- + +GLOUCESTER +She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so? +She may do more, sir, than denying that: +She may help you to many fair preferments, +And then deny her aiding hand therein, +And lay those honours on your high deserts. +What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she-- + +RIVERS +What, marry, may she? + +GLOUCESTER +What, marry, may she! marry with a king, +A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: +I wis your grandam had a worser match. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne +Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs: +By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty +With those gross taunts I often have endured. +I had rather be a country servant-maid +Than a great queen, with this condition, +To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at: + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind + +Small joy have I in being England's queen. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! +Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. + +GLOUCESTER +What! threat you me with telling of the king? +Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said +I will avouch in presence of the king: +I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. +'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Out, devil! I remember them too well: +Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower, +And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. + +GLOUCESTER +Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king, +I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; +A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, +A liberal rewarder of his friends: +To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Yea, and much better blood than his or thine. + +GLOUCESTER +In all which time you and your husband Grey +Were factious for the house of Lancaster; +And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband +In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? +Let me put in your minds, if you forget, +What you have been ere now, and what you are; +Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A murderous villain, and so still thou art. + +GLOUCESTER +Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick; +Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!-- + +QUEEN MARGARET +Which God revenge! + +GLOUCESTER +To fight on Edward's party for the crown; +And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. +I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's; +Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine +I am too childish-foolish for this world. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, +Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. + +RIVERS +My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days +Which here you urge to prove us enemies, +We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king: +So should we you, if you should be our king. + +GLOUCESTER +If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar: +Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As little joy, my lord, as you suppose +You should enjoy, were you this country's king, +As little joy may you suppose in me. +That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; +For I am she, and altogether joyless. +I can no longer hold me patient. + +Advancing + +Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out +In sharing that which you have pill'd from me! +Which of you trembles not that looks on me? +If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, +Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels? +O gentle villain, do not turn away! + +GLOUCESTER +Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; +That will I make before I let thee go. + +GLOUCESTER +Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I was; but I do find more pain in banishment +Than death can yield me here by my abode. +A husband and a son thou owest to me; +And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance: +The sorrow that I have, by right is yours, +And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + +GLOUCESTER +The curse my noble father laid on thee, +When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper +And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, +And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout +Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-- +His curses, then from bitterness of soul +Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; +And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +So just is God, to right the innocent. + +HASTINGS +O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, +And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + +RIVERS +Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + +DORSET +No man but prophesied revenge for it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What were you snarling all before I came, +Ready to catch each other by the throat, +And turn you all your hatred now on me? +Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven? +That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, +Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, +Could all but answer for that peevish brat? +Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? +Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! +If not by war, by surfeit die your king, +As ours by murder, to make him a king! +Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, +For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales, +Die in his youth by like untimely violence! +Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, +Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! +Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss; +And see another, as I see thee now, +Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! +Long die thy happy days before thy death; +And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, +Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen! +Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by, +And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son +Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, +That none of you may live your natural age, +But by some unlook'd accident cut off! + +GLOUCESTER +Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! + +QUEEN MARGARET +And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. +If heaven have any grievous plague in store +Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, +O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, +And then hurl down their indignation +On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! +The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! +Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, +And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! +No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, +Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream +Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! +Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! +Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity +The slave of nature and the son of hell! +Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! +Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! +Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- + +GLOUCESTER +Margaret. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Richard! + +GLOUCESTER +Ha! + +QUEEN MARGARET +I call thee not. + +GLOUCESTER +I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought +That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. +O, let me make the period to my curse! + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.' + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune! +Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, +Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? +Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. +The time will come when thou shalt wish for me +To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad. + +HASTINGS +False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, +Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine. + +RIVERS +Were you well served, you would be taught your duty. + +QUEEN MARGARET +To serve me well, you all should do me duty, +Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: +O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + +DORSET +Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, master marquess, you are malapert: +Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. +O, that your young nobility could judge +What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! +They that stand high have many blasts to shake them; +And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. + +GLOUCESTER +Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess. + +DORSET +It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me. + +GLOUCESTER +Yea, and much more: but I was born so high, +Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, +And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas! +Witness my son, now in the shade of death; +Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath +Hath in eternal darkness folded up. +Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. +O God, that seest it, do not suffer it! +As it was won with blood, lost be it so! + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done! for shame, if not for charity. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Urge neither charity nor shame to me: +Uncharitably with me have you dealt, +And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. +My charity is outrage, life my shame +And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage. + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done, have done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand, +In sign of league and amity with thee: +Now fair befal thee and thy noble house! +Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, +Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nor no one here; for curses never pass +The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, +And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. +O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! +Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, +His venom tooth will rankle to the death: +Have not to do with him, beware of him; +Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, +And all their ministers attend on him. + +GLOUCESTER +What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? +And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? +O, but remember this another day, +When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, +And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! +Live each of you the subjects to his hate, +And he to yours, and all of you to God's! + +Exit + +HASTINGS +My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. + +RIVERS +And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, +She hath had too much wrong; and I repent +My part thereof that I have done to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I never did her any, to my knowledge. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have all the vantage of her wrong. +I was too hot to do somebody good, +That is too cold in thinking of it now. +Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid, +He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains +God pardon them that are the cause of it! + +RIVERS +A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, +To pray for them that have done scathe to us. + +GLOUCESTER +So do I ever: + +Aside + +being well-advised. +For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. + +Enter CATESBY + +CATESBY +Madam, his majesty doth call for you, +And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? + +RIVERS +Madam, we will attend your grace. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. +The secret mischiefs that I set abroach +I lay unto the grievous charge of others. +Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, +I do beweep to many simple gulls +Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham; +And say it is the queen and her allies +That stir the king against the duke my brother. +Now, they believe it; and withal whet me +To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: +But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, +Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: +And thus I clothe my naked villany +With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; +And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. + +Enter two Murderers + +But, soft! here come my executioners. +How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! +Are you now going to dispatch this deed? + +First Murderer +We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant +That we may be admitted where he is. + +GLOUCESTER +Well thought upon; I have it here about me. + +Gives the warrant + +When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. +But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, +Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; +For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps +May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. + +First Murderer +Tush! +Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; +Talkers are no good doers: be assured +We come to use our hands and not our tongues. + +GLOUCESTER +Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears: +I like you, lads; about your business straight; +Go, go, dispatch. + +First Murderer +We will, my noble lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Tower. + +Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY +BRAKENBURY +Why looks your grace so heavily today? + +CLARENCE +O, I have pass'd a miserable night, +So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, +That, as I am a Christian faithful man, +I would not spend another such a night, +Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, +So full of dismal terror was the time! + +BRAKENBURY +What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower, +And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; +And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; +Who from my cabin tempted me to walk +Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England, +And cited up a thousand fearful times, +During the wars of York and Lancaster +That had befall'n us. As we paced along +Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, +Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling, +Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, +Into the tumbling billows of the main. +Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! +What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! +What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! +Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; +Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; +Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, +Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, +All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: +Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes +Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, +As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, +Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, +And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. + +BRAKENBURY +Had you such leisure in the time of death +To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? + +CLARENCE +Methought I had; and often did I strive +To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood +Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth +To seek the empty, vast and wandering air; +But smother'd it within my panting bulk, +Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. + +BRAKENBURY +Awaked you not with this sore agony? + +CLARENCE +O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; +O, then began the tempest to my soul, +Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, +With that grim ferryman which poets write of, +Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. +The first that there did greet my stranger soul, +Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; +Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury +Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' +And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by +A shadow like an angel, with bright hair +Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud, +'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, +That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; +Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!' +With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends +Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears +Such hideous cries, that with the very noise +I trembling waked, and for a season after +Could not believe but that I was in hell, +Such terrible impression made the dream. + +BRAKENBURY +No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you; +I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +O Brakenbury, I have done those things, +Which now bear evidence against my soul, +For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me! +O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, +But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, +Yet execute thy wrath in me alone, +O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! +I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; +My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + +BRAKENBURY +I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! + +CLARENCE sleeps + +Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, +Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. +Princes have but their tides for their glories, +An outward honour for an inward toil; +And, for unfelt imagination, +They often feel a world of restless cares: +So that, betwixt their tides and low names, +There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + +Enter the two Murderers + +First Murderer +Ho! who's here? + +BRAKENBURY +In God's name what are you, and how came you hither? + +First Murderer +I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. + +BRAKENBURY +Yea, are you so brief? + +Second Murderer +O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show +him our commission; talk no more. + +BRAKENBURY reads it + +BRAKENBURY +I am, in this, commanded to deliver +The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: +I will not reason what is meant hereby, +Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. +Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep: +I'll to the king; and signify to him +That thus I have resign'd my charge to you. + +First Murderer +Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. + +Exit BRAKENBURY + +Second Murderer +What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? + +First Murderer +No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. + +Second Murderer +When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till +the judgment-day. + +First Murderer +Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping. + +Second Murderer +The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind +of remorse in me. + +First Murderer +What, art thou afraid? + +Second Murderer +Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be +damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us. + +First Murderer +I thought thou hadst been resolute. + +Second Murderer +So I am, to let him live. + +First Murderer +Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so. + +Second Murderer +I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour +will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one +would tell twenty. + +First Murderer +How dost thou feel thyself now? + +Second Murderer +'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet +within me. + +First Murderer +Remember our reward, when the deed is done. + +Second Murderer +'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward. + +First Murderer +Where is thy conscience now? + +Second Murderer +In the Duke of Gloucester's purse. + +First Murderer +So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, +thy conscience flies out. + +Second Murderer +Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it. + +First Murderer +How if it come to thee again? + +Second Murderer +I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it +makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it +accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him; +he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it +detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that +mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of +obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold +that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it +is turned out of all towns and cities for a +dangerous thing; and every man that means to live +well endeavours to trust to himself and to live +without it. + +First Murderer +'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me +not to kill the duke. + +Second Murderer +Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he +would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. + +First Murderer +Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me, +I warrant thee. + +Second Murderer +Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his +reputation. Come, shall we to this gear? + +First Murderer +Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy +sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt +in the next room. + +Second Murderer +O excellent devise! make a sop of him. + +First Murderer +Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? + +Second Murderer +No, first let's reason with him. + +CLARENCE +Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. + +Second murderer +You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. + +CLARENCE +In God's name, what art thou? + +Second Murderer +A man, as you are. + +CLARENCE +But not, as I am, royal. + +Second Murderer +Nor you, as we are, loyal. + +CLARENCE +Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + +Second Murderer +My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. + +CLARENCE +How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! +Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? +Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + +Both +To, to, to-- + +CLARENCE +To murder me? + +Both +Ay, ay. + +CLARENCE +You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, +And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. +Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + +First Murderer +Offended us you have not, but the king. + +CLARENCE +I shall be reconciled to him again. + +Second Murderer +Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. + +CLARENCE +Are you call'd forth from out a world of men +To slay the innocent? What is my offence? +Where are the evidence that do accuse me? +What lawful quest have given their verdict up +Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced +The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? +Before I be convict by course of law, +To threaten me with death is most unlawful. +I charge you, as you hope to have redemption +By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, +That you depart and lay no hands on me +The deed you undertake is damnable. + +First Murderer +What we will do, we do upon command. + +Second Murderer +And he that hath commanded is the king. + +CLARENCE +Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings +Hath in the tables of his law commanded +That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then, +Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's? +Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands, +To hurl upon their heads that break his law. + +Second Murderer +And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, +For false forswearing and for murder too: +Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, +To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. + +First Murderer +And, like a traitor to the name of God, +Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade +Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. + +Second Murderer +Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. + +First Murderer +How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, +When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? + +CLARENCE +Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? +For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs, +He sends ye not to murder me for this +For in this sin he is as deep as I. +If God will be revenged for this deed. +O, know you yet, he doth it publicly, +Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm; +He needs no indirect nor lawless course +To cut off those that have offended him. + +First Murderer +Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, +When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, +That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + +CLARENCE +My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + +First Murderer +Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, +Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me; +I am his brother, and I love him well. +If you be hired for meed, go back again, +And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, +Who shall reward you better for my life +Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + +Second Murderer +You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. + +CLARENCE +O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: +Go you to him from me. + +Both +Ay, so we will. + +CLARENCE +Tell him, when that our princely father York +Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, +And charged us from his soul to love each other, +He little thought of this divided friendship: +Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + +First Murderer +Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep. + +CLARENCE +O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + +First Murderer +Right, +As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself: +'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +It cannot be; for when I parted with him, +He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, +That he would labour my delivery. + +Second Murderer +Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee +From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven. + +First Murderer +Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. + +CLARENCE +Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, +To counsel me to make my peace with God, +And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, +That thou wilt war with God by murdering me? +Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on +To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + +Second Murderer +What shall we do? + +CLARENCE +Relent, and save your souls. + +First Murderer +Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish. + +CLARENCE +Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. +Which of you, if you were a prince's son, +Being pent from liberty, as I am now, +if two such murderers as yourselves came to you, +Would not entreat for life? +My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks: +O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, +Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, +As you would beg, were you in my distress +A begging prince what beggar pities not? + +Second Murderer +Look behind you, my lord. + +First Murderer +Take that, and that: if all this will not do, + +Stabs him + +I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. + +Exit, with the body + +Second Murderer +A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd! +How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands +Of this most grievous guilty murder done! + +Re-enter First Murderer + +First Murderer +How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? +By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art! + +Second Murderer +I would he knew that I had saved his brother! +Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; +For I repent me that the duke is slain. + +Exit + +First Murderer +So do not I: go, coward as thou art. +Now must I hide his body in some hole, +Until the duke take order for his burial: +And when I have my meed, I must away; +For this will out, and here I must not stay. + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others +KING EDWARD IV +Why, so: now have I done a good day's work: +You peers, continue this united league: +I every day expect an embassage +From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; +And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven, +Since I have set my friends at peace on earth. +Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand; +Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. + +RIVERS +By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate: +And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + +HASTINGS +So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! + +KING EDWARD IV +Take heed you dally not before your king; +Lest he that is the supreme King of kings +Confound your hidden falsehood, and award +Either of you to be the other's end. + +HASTINGS +So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! + +RIVERS +And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! + +KING EDWARD IV +Madam, yourself are not exempt in this, +Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you; +You have been factious one against the other, +Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; +And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Here, Hastings; I will never more remember +Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine! + +KING EDWARD IV +Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess. + +DORSET +This interchange of love, I here protest, +Upon my part shall be unviolable. + +HASTINGS +And so swear I, my lord + +They embrace + +KING EDWARD IV +Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league +With thy embracements to my wife's allies, +And make me happy in your unity. + +BUCKINGHAM +Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate +On you or yours, + +To the Queen + +but with all duteous love +Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me +With hate in those where I expect most love! +When I have most need to employ a friend, +And most assured that he is a friend +Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, +Be he unto me! this do I beg of God, +When I am cold in zeal to yours. + +KING EDWARD IV +A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, +is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. +There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here, +To make the perfect period of this peace. + +BUCKINGHAM +And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen: +And, princely peers, a happy time of day! + +KING EDWARD IV +Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. +Brother, we done deeds of charity; +Made peace enmity, fair love of hate, +Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. + +GLOUCESTER +A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege: +Amongst this princely heap, if any here, +By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, +Hold me a foe; +If I unwittingly, or in my rage, +Have aught committed that is hardly borne +By any in this presence, I desire +To reconcile me to his friendly peace: +'Tis death to me to be at enmity; +I hate it, and desire all good men's love. +First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, +Which I will purchase with my duteous service; +Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, +If ever any grudge were lodged between us; +Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you; +That without desert have frown'd on me; +Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. +I do not know that Englishman alive +With whom my soul is any jot at odds +More than the infant that is born to-night +I thank my God for my humility. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A holy day shall this be kept hereafter: +I would to God all strifes were well compounded. +My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty +To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this +To be so bouted in this royal presence? +Who knows not that the noble duke is dead? + +They all start + +You do him injury to scorn his corse. + +RIVERS +Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +All seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +BUCKINGHAM +Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +DORSET +Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence +But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. + +KING EDWARD IV +Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed. + +GLOUCESTER +But he, poor soul, by your first order died, +And that a winged Mercury did bear: +Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, +That came too lag to see him buried. +God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, +Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, +Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, +And yet go current from suspicion! + +Enter DERBY + +DORSET +A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! + +KING EDWARD IV +I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. + +DORSET +I will not rise, unless your highness grant. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st. + +DORSET +The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; +Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman +Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + +KING EDWARD IV +Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, +And shall the same give pardon to a slave? +My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, +And yet his punishment was cruel death. +Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, +Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised +Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? +Who told me how the poor soul did forsake +The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? +Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury +When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, +And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? +Who told me, when we both lay in the field +Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me +Even in his own garments, and gave himself, +All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? +All this from my remembrance brutish wrath +Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you +Had so much grace to put it in my mind. +But when your carters or your waiting-vassals +Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced +The precious image of our dear Redeemer, +You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; +And I unjustly too, must grant it you +But for my brother not a man would speak, +Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself +For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all +Have been beholding to him in his life; +Yet none of you would once plead for his life. +O God, I fear thy justice will take hold +On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! +Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. +Oh, poor Clarence! + +Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET + +GLOUCESTER +This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not +How that the guilty kindred of the queen +Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? +O, they did urge it still unto the king! +God will revenge it. But come, let us in, +To comfort Edward with our company. + +BUCKINGHAM +We wait upon your grace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE +Boy +Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +No, boy. + +Boy +Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast, +And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!' + +Girl +Why do you look on us, and shake your head, +And call us wretches, orphans, castaways +If that our noble father be alive? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; +I do lament the sickness of the king. +As loath to lose him, not your father's death; +It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + +Boy +Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. +The king my uncle is to blame for this: +God will revenge it; whom I will importune +With daily prayers all to that effect. + +Girl +And so will I. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: +Incapable and shallow innocents, +You cannot guess who caused your father's death. + +Boy +Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester +Told me, the king, provoked by the queen, +Devised impeachments to imprison him : +And when my uncle told me so, he wept, +And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; +Bade me rely on him as on my father, +And he would love me dearly as his child. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, +And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile! +He is my son; yea, and therein my shame; +Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + +Boy +Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ay, boy. + +Boy +I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, +To chide my fortune, and torment myself? +I'll join with black despair against my soul, +And to myself become an enemy. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What means this scene of rude impatience? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To make an act of tragic violence: +Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead. +Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd? +Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone? +If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, +That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; +Or, like obedient subjects, follow him +To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow +As I had title in thy noble husband! +I have bewept a worthy husband's death, +And lived by looking on his images: +But now two mirrors of his princely semblance +Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, +And I for comfort have but one false glass, +Which grieves me when I see my shame in him. +Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, +And hast the comfort of thy children left thee: +But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, +And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs, +Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I, +Thine being but a moiety of my grief, +To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries! + +Boy +Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death; +How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + +Girl +Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; +Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Give me no help in lamentation; +I am not barren to bring forth complaints +All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, +That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, +May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! +Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! + +Children +Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. + +Children +What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What stays had I but they? and they are gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Was never widow had so dear a loss! + +Children +Were never orphans had so dear a loss! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Was never mother had so dear a loss! +Alas, I am the mother of these moans! +Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. +She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; +I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: +These babes for Clarence weep and so do I; +I for an Edward weep, so do not they: +Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd, +Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, +And I will pamper it with lamentations. + +DORSET +Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased +That you take with unthankfulness, his doing: +In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful, +With dull unwilligness to repay a debt +Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; +Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, +For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + +RIVERS +Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, +Of the young prince your son: send straight for him +Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: +Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, +And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause +To wail the dimming of our shining star; +But none can cure their harms by wailing them. +Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; +I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee +I crave your blessing. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind, +Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man! +That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: +I marvel why her grace did leave it out. + +BUCKINGHAM +You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers, +That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, +Now cheer each other in each other's love +Though we have spent our harvest of this king, +We are to reap the harvest of his son. +The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts, +But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, +Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept: +Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, +Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd +Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. + +RIVERS +Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, +The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, +Which would be so much the more dangerous +By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd: +Where every horse bears his commanding rein, +And may direct his course as please himself, +As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, +In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + +GLOUCESTER +I hope the king made peace with all of us +And the compact is firm and true in me. + +RIVERS +And so in me; and so, I think, in all: +Yet, since it is but green, it should be put +To no apparent likelihood of breach, +Which haply by much company might be urged: +Therefore I say with noble Buckingham, +That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. + +HASTINGS +And so say I. + +GLOUCESTER +Then be it so; and go we to determine +Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. +Madam, and you, my mother, will you go +To give your censures in this weighty business? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH DUCHESS OF YORK +With all our harts. + +Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, +For God's sake, let not us two be behind; +For, by the way, I'll sort occasion, +As index to the story we late talk'd of, +To part the queen's proud kindred from the king. + +GLOUCESTER +My other self, my counsel's consistory, +My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin, +I, like a child, will go by thy direction. +Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. A street. + +Enter two Citizens meeting +First Citizen +Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast? + +Second Citizen +I promise you, I scarcely know myself: +Hear you the news abroad? + +First Citizen +Ay, that the king is dead. + +Second Citizen +Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: +I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world. + +Enter another Citizen + +Third Citizen +Neighbours, God speed! + +First Citizen +Give you good morrow, sir. + +Third Citizen +Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death? + +Second Citizen +Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! + +Third Citizen +Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. + +First Citizen +No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign. + +Third Citizen +Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child! + +Second Citizen +In him there is a hope of government, +That in his nonage council under him, +And in his full and ripen'd years himself, +No doubt, shall then and till then govern well. + +First Citizen +So stood the state when Henry the Sixth +Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. + +Third Citizen +Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot; +For then this land was famously enrich'd +With politic grave counsel; then the king +Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. + +The Tragedy of Coriolanus +Shakespeare homepage | Coriolanus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons +First Citizen +Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. + +All +Speak, speak. + +First Citizen +You are all resolved rather to die than to famish? + +All +Resolved. resolved. + +First Citizen +First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. + +All +We know't, we know't. + +First Citizen +Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. +Is't a verdict? + +All +No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away! + +Second Citizen +One word, good citizens. + +First Citizen +We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. +What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they +would yield us but the superfluity, while it were +wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; +but they think we are too dear: the leanness that +afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an +inventory to particularise their abundance; our +sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with +our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I +speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. + +Second Citizen +Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? + +All +Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty. + +Second Citizen +Consider you what services he has done for his country? + +First Citizen +Very well; and could be content to give him good +report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud. + +Second Citizen +Nay, but speak not maliciously. + +First Citizen +I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did +it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be +content to say it was for his country he did it to +please his mother and to be partly proud; which he +is, even till the altitude of his virtue. + +Second Citizen +What he cannot help in his nature, you account a +vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous. + +First Citizen +If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; +he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. + +Shouts within + +What shouts are these? The other side o' the city +is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol! + +All +Come, come. + +First Citizen +Soft! who comes here? + +Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA + +Second Citizen +Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved +the people. + +First Citizen +He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so! + +MENENIUS +What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you +With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you. + +First Citizen +Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have +had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, +which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor +suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we +have strong arms too. + +MENENIUS +Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, +Will you undo yourselves? + +First Citizen +We cannot, sir, we are undone already. + +MENENIUS +I tell you, friends, most charitable care +Have the patricians of you. For your wants, +Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well +Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them +Against the Roman state, whose course will on +The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs +Of more strong link asunder than can ever +Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, +The gods, not the patricians, make it, and +Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, +You are transported by calamity +Thither where more attends you, and you slander +The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers, +When you curse them as enemies. + +First Citizen +Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us +yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses +crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to +support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act +established against the rich, and provide more +piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain +the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and +there's all the love they bear us. + +MENENIUS +Either you must +Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, +Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you +A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; +But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture +To stale 't a little more. + +First Citizen +Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to +fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please +you, deliver. + +MENENIUS +There was a time when all the body's members +Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it: +That only like a gulf it did remain +I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive, +Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing +Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments +Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, +And, mutually participate, did minister +Unto the appetite and affection common +Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-- + +First Citizen +Well, sir, what answer made the belly? + +MENENIUS +Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile, +Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-- +For, look you, I may make the belly smile +As well as speak--it tauntingly replied +To the discontented members, the mutinous parts +That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +As you malign our senators for that +They are not such as you. + +First Citizen +Your belly's answer? What! +The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye, +The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, +Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter. +With other muniments and petty helps +In this our fabric, if that they-- + +MENENIUS +What then? +'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then? + +First Citizen +Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, +Who is the sink o' the body,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, what then? + +First Citizen +The former agents, if they did complain, +What could the belly answer? + +MENENIUS +I will tell you +If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little-- +Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer. + +First Citizen +Ye're long about it. + +MENENIUS +Note me this, good friend; +Your most grave belly was deliberate, +Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd: +'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he, +'That I receive the general food at first, +Which you do live upon; and fit it is, +Because I am the store-house and the shop +Of the whole body: but, if you do remember, +I send it through the rivers of your blood, +Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain; +And, through the cranks and offices of man, +The strongest nerves and small inferior veins +From me receive that natural competency +Whereby they live: and though that all at once, +You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,-- + +First Citizen +Ay, sir; well, well. + +MENENIUS +'Though all at once cannot +See what I do deliver out to each, +Yet I can make my audit up, that all +From me do back receive the flour of all, +And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't? + +First Citizen +It was an answer: how apply you this? + +MENENIUS +The senators of Rome are this good belly, +And you the mutinous members; for examine +Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly +Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find +No public benefit which you receive +But it proceeds or comes from them to you +And no way from yourselves. What do you think, +You, the great toe of this assembly? + +First Citizen +I the great toe! why the great toe? + +MENENIUS +For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest, +Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: +Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, +Lead'st first to win some vantage. +But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs: +Rome and her rats are at the point of battle; +The one side must have bale. + +Enter CAIUS MARCIUS + +Hail, noble Marcius! + +MARCIUS +Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, +That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, +Make yourselves scabs? + +First Citizen +We have ever your good word. + +MARCIUS +He that will give good words to thee will flatter +Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, +That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, +The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, +Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; +Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, +Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, +Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is +To make him worthy whose offence subdues him +And curse that justice did it. +Who deserves greatness +Deserves your hate; and your affections are +A sick man's appetite, who desires most that +Which would increase his evil. He that depends +Upon your favours swims with fins of lead +And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye? +With every minute you do change a mind, +And call him noble that was now your hate, +Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, +That in these several places of the city +You cry against the noble senate, who, +Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else +Would feed on one another? What's their seeking? + +MENENIUS +For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, +The city is well stored. + +MARCIUS +Hang 'em! They say! +They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know +What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise, +Who thrives and who declines; side factions +and give out +Conjectural marriages; making parties strong +And feebling such as stand not in their liking +Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's +grain enough! +Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, +And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry +With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high +As I could pick my lance. + +MENENIUS +Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; +For though abundantly they lack discretion, +Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, +What says the other troop? + +MARCIUS +They are dissolved: hang 'em! +They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs, +That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, +That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not +Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds +They vented their complainings; which being answer'd, +And a petition granted them, a strange one-- +To break the heart of generosity, +And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps +As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon, +Shouting their emulation. + +MENENIUS +What is granted them? + +MARCIUS +Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, +Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus, +Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath! +The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, +Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time +Win upon power and throw forth greater themes +For insurrection's arguing. + +MENENIUS +This is strange. + +MARCIUS +Go, get you home, you fragments! + +Enter a Messenger, hastily + +Messenger +Where's Caius Marcius? + +MARCIUS +Here: what's the matter? + +Messenger +The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent +Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders. + +Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS + +First Senator +Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us; +The Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +They have a leader, +Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't. +I sin in envying his nobility, +And were I any thing but what I am, +I would wish me only he. + +COMINIUS +You have fought together. + +MARCIUS +Were half to half the world by the ears and he. +Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make +Only my wars with him: he is a lion +That I am proud to hunt. + +First Senator +Then, worthy Marcius, +Attend upon Cominius to these wars. + +COMINIUS +It is your former promise. + +MARCIUS +Sir, it is; +And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou +Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. +What, art thou stiff? stand'st out? + +TITUS +No, Caius Marcius; +I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other, +Ere stay behind this business. + +MENENIUS +O, true-bred! + +First Senator +Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, +Our greatest friends attend us. + +TITUS +[To COMINIUS] Lead you on. + +To MARCIUS + +Right worthy you priority. + +COMINIUS +Noble Marcius! + +First Senator +[To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone! + +MARCIUS +Nay, let them follow: +The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither +To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners, +Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow. + +Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +SICINIUS +Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? + +BRUTUS +He has no equal. + +SICINIUS +When we were chosen tribunes for the people,-- + +BRUTUS +Mark'd you his lip and eyes? + +SICINIUS +Nay. but his taunts. + +BRUTUS +Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods. + +SICINIUS +Be-mock the modest moon. + +BRUTUS +The present wars devour him: he is grown +Too proud to be so valiant. + +SICINIUS +Such a nature, +Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow +Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder +His insolence can brook to be commanded +Under Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Fame, at the which he aims, +In whom already he's well graced, can not +Better be held nor more attain'd than by +A place below the first: for what miscarries +Shall be the general's fault, though he perform +To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure +Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he +Had borne the business!' + +SICINIUS +Besides, if things go well, +Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall +Of his demerits rob Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Come: +Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius. +Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults +To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed +In aught he merit not. + +SICINIUS +Let's hence, and hear +How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, +More than his singularity, he goes +Upon this present action. + +BRUTUS +Lets along. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Corioli. The Senate-house. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators +First Senator +So, your opinion is, Aufidius, +That they of Rome are entered in our counsels +And know how we proceed. + +AUFIDIUS +Is it not yours? +What ever have been thought on in this state, +That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome +Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone +Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think +I have the letter here; yes, here it is. + +Reads + +'They have press'd a power, but it is not known +Whether for east or west: the dearth is great; +The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd, +Cominius, Marcius your old enemy, +Who is of Rome worse hated than of you, +And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, +These three lead on this preparation +Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you: +Consider of it.' + +First Senator +Our army's in the field +We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready +To answer us. + +AUFIDIUS +Nor did you think it folly +To keep your great pretences veil'd till when +They needs must show themselves; which +in the hatching, +It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery. +We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was +To take in many towns ere almost Rome +Should know we were afoot. + +Second Senator +Noble Aufidius, +Take your commission; hie you to your bands: +Let us alone to guard Corioli: +If they set down before 's, for the remove +Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find +They've not prepared for us. + +AUFIDIUS +O, doubt not that; +I speak from certainties. Nay, more, +Some parcels of their power are forth already, +And only hitherward. I leave your honours. +If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet, +'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike +Till one can do no more. + +All +The gods assist you! + +AUFIDIUS +And keep your honours safe! + +First Senator +Farewell. + +Second Senator +Farewell. + +All +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rome. A room in Marcius' house. + +Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA they set them down on two low stools, and sew +VOLUMNIA +I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a +more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I +should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he +won honour than in the embracements of his bed where +he would show most love. When yet he was but +tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when +youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when +for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not +sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering +how honour would become such a person. that it was +no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if +renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek +danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel +war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows +bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not +more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child +than now in first seeing he had proved himself a +man. + +VIRGILIA +But had he died in the business, madam; how then? + +VOLUMNIA +Then his good report should have been my son; I +therein would have found issue. Hear me profess +sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love +alike and none less dear than thine and my good +Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their +country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. + +Enter a Gentlewoman + +Gentlewoman +Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. + +VIRGILIA +Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + +VOLUMNIA +Indeed, you shall not. +Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum, +See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair, +As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him: +Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus: +'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, +Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow +With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes, +Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow +Or all or lose his hire. + +VIRGILIA +His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood! + +VOLUMNIA +Away, you fool! it more becomes a man +Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba, +When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier +Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood +At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria, +We are fit to bid her welcome. + +Exit Gentlewoman + +VIRGILIA +Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + +VOLUMNIA +He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee +And tread upon his neck. + +Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman + +VALERIA +My ladies both, good day to you. + +VOLUMNIA +Sweet madam. + +VIRGILIA +I am glad to see your ladyship. + +VALERIA +How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. +What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good +faith. How does your little son? + +VIRGILIA +I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. + +VOLUMNIA +He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than +look upon his school-master. + +VALERIA +O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a +very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' +Wednesday half an hour together: has such a +confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded +butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go +again; and after it again; and over and over he +comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his +fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his +teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked +it! + +VOLUMNIA +One on 's father's moods. + +VALERIA +Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. + +VIRGILIA +A crack, madam. + +VALERIA +Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play +the idle husewife with me this afternoon. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam; I will not out of doors. + +VALERIA +Not out of doors! + +VOLUMNIA +She shall, she shall. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the +threshold till my lord return from the wars. + +VALERIA +Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, +you must go visit the good lady that lies in. + +VIRGILIA +I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with +my prayers; but I cannot go thither. + +VOLUMNIA +Why, I pray you? + +VIRGILIA +'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. + +VALERIA +You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all +the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill +Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric +were sensible as your finger, that you might leave +pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth. + +VALERIA +In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you +excellent news of your husband. + +VIRGILIA +O, good madam, there can be none yet. + +VALERIA +Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from +him last night. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, madam? + +VALERIA +In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. +Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against +whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of +our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set +down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt +prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true, +on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us. + +VIRGILIA +Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every +thing hereafter. + +VOLUMNIA +Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but +disease our better mirth. + +VALERIA +In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. +Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy +solemness out o' door. and go along with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish +you much mirth. + +VALERIA +Well, then, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Before Corioli. + +Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger +MARCIUS +Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. + +LARTIUS +My horse to yours, no. + +MARCIUS +'Tis done. + +LARTIUS +Agreed. + +MARCIUS +Say, has our general met the enemy? + +Messenger +They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. + +LARTIUS +So, the good horse is mine. + +MARCIUS +I'll buy him of you. + +LARTIUS +No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will +For half a hundred years. Summon the town. + +MARCIUS +How far off lie these armies? + +Messenger +Within this mile and half. + +MARCIUS +Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. +Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, +That we with smoking swords may march from hence, +To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast. + +They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls + +Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? + +First Senator +No, nor a man that fears you less than he, +That's lesser than a little. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! our drums +Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls, +Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates, +Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes; +They'll open of themselves. + +Alarum afar off + +Hark you. far off! +There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes +Amongst your cloven army. + +MARCIUS +O, they are at it! + +LARTIUS +Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! + +Enter the army of the Volsces + +MARCIUS +They fear us not, but issue forth their city. +Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight +With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, +brave Titus: +They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, +Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows: +He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, +And he shall feel mine edge. + +Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing + +MARCIUS +All the contagion of the south light on you, +You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues +Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd +Further than seen and one infect another +Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, +That bear the shapes of men, how have you run +From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! +All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale +With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home, +Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe +And make my wars on you: look to't: come on; +If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, +As they us to our trenches followed. + +Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates + +So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: +'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, +Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. + +Enters the gates + +First Soldier +Fool-hardiness; not I. + +Second Soldier +Nor I. + +MARCIUS is shut in + +First Soldier +See, they have shut him in. + +All +To the pot, I warrant him. + +Alarum continues + +Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS + +LARTIUS +What is become of Marcius? + +All +Slain, sir, doubtless. + +First Soldier +Following the fliers at the very heels, +With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, +Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone, +To answer all the city. + +LARTIUS +O noble fellow! +Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, +And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: +A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, +Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier +Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible +Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and +The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, +Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world +Were feverous and did tremble. + +Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy + +First Soldier +Look, sir. + +LARTIUS +O,'tis Marcius! +Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. + +They fight, and all enter the city + +SCENE V. Corioli. A street. + +Enter certain Romans, with spoils +First Roman +This will I carry to Rome. + +Second Roman +And I this. + +Third Roman +A murrain on't! I took this for silver. + +Alarum continues still afar off + +Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet + +MARCIUS +See here these movers that do prize their hours +At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, +Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would +Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, +Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! +And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! +There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, +Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take +Convenient numbers to make good the city; +Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste +To help Cominius. + +LARTIUS +Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; +Thy exercise hath been too violent for +A second course of fight. + +MARCIUS +Sir, praise me not; +My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well: +The blood I drop is rather physical +Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus +I will appear, and fight. + +LARTIUS +Now the fair goddess, Fortune, +Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms +Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, +Prosperity be thy page! + +MARCIUS +Thy friend no less +Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. + +LARTIUS +Thou worthiest Marcius! + +Exit MARCIUS + +Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; +Call thither all the officers o' the town, +Where they shall know our mind: away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers +COMINIUS +Breathe you, my friends: well fought; +we are come off +Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, +Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, +We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, +By interims and conveying gusts we have heard +The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods! +Lead their successes as we wish our own, +That both our powers, with smiling +fronts encountering, +May give you thankful sacrifice. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy news? + +Messenger +The citizens of Corioli have issued, +And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: +I saw our party to their trenches driven, +And then I came away. + +COMINIUS +Though thou speak'st truth, +Methinks thou speak'st not well. +How long is't since? + +Messenger +Above an hour, my lord. + +COMINIUS +'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: +How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour, +And bring thy news so late? + +Messenger +Spies of the Volsces +Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel +Three or four miles about, else had I, sir, +Half an hour since brought my report. + +COMINIUS +Who's yonder, +That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods +He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have +Before-time seen him thus. + +MARCIUS +[Within] Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour +More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue +From every meaner man. + +Enter MARCIUS + +MARCIUS +Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, +But mantled in your own. + +MARCIUS +O, let me clip ye +In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart +As merry as when our nuptial day was done, +And tapers burn'd to bedward! + +COMINIUS +Flower of warriors, +How is it with Titus Lartius? + +MARCIUS +As with a man busied about decrees: +Condemning some to death, and some to exile; +Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; +Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, +Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, +To let him slip at will. + +COMINIUS +Where is that slave +Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? +Where is he? call him hither. + +MARCIUS +Let him alone; +He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, +The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!-- +The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge +From rascals worse than they. + +COMINIUS +But how prevail'd you? + +MARCIUS +Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. +Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field? +If not, why cease you till you are so? + +COMINIUS +Marcius, +We have at disadvantage fought and did +Retire to win our purpose. + +MARCIUS +How lies their battle? know you on which side +They have placed their men of trust? + +COMINIUS +As I guess, Marcius, +Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates, +Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, +Their very heart of hope. + +MARCIUS +I do beseech you, +By all the battles wherein we have fought, +By the blood we have shed together, by the vows +We have made to endure friends, that you directly +Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates; +And that you not delay the present, but, +Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, +We prove this very hour. + +COMINIUS +Though I could wish +You were conducted to a gentle bath +And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never +Deny your asking: take your choice of those +That best can aid your action. + +MARCIUS +Those are they +That most are willing. If any such be here-- +As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting +Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear +Lesser his person than an ill report; +If any think brave death outweighs bad life +And that his country's dearer than himself; +Let him alone, or so many so minded, +Wave thus, to express his disposition, +And follow Marcius. + +They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps + +O, me alone! make you a sword of me? +If these shows be not outward, which of you +But is four Volsces? none of you but is +Able to bear against the great Aufidius +A shield as hard as his. A certain number, +Though thanks to all, must I select +from all: the rest +Shall bear the business in some other fight, +As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; +And four shall quickly draw out my command, +Which men are best inclined. + +COMINIUS +March on, my fellows: +Make good this ostentation, and you shall +Divide in all with us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The gates of Corioli. + +TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout +LARTIUS +So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties, +As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch +Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve +For a short holding: if we lose the field, +We cannot keep the town. + +Lieutenant +Fear not our care, sir. + +LARTIUS +Hence, and shut your gates upon's. +Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A field of battle. + +Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS +MARCIUS +I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee +Worse than a promise-breaker. + +AUFIDIUS +We hate alike: +Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor +More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. + +MARCIUS +Let the first budger die the other's slave, +And the gods doom him after! + +AUFIDIUS +If I fly, Marcius, +Holloa me like a hare. + +MARCIUS +Within these three hours, Tullus, +Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, +And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood +Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge +Wrench up thy power to the highest. + +AUFIDIUS +Wert thou the Hector +That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, +Thou shouldst not scape me here. + +They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in breathless + +Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me +In your condemned seconds. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. The Roman camp. + +Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf +COMINIUS +If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, +Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it +Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles, +Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, +I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted, +And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the +dull tribunes, +That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, +Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods +Our Rome hath such a soldier.' +Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, +Having fully dined before. + +Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit + +LARTIUS +O general, +Here is the steed, we the caparison: +Hadst thou beheld-- + +MARCIUS +Pray now, no more: my mother, +Who has a charter to extol her blood, +When she does praise me grieves me. I have done +As you have done; that's what I can; induced +As you have been; that's for my country: +He that has but effected his good will +Hath overta'en mine act. + +COMINIUS +You shall not be +The grave of your deserving; Rome must know +The value of her own: 'twere a concealment +Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, +To hide your doings; and to silence that, +Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, +Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you +In sign of what you are, not to reward +What you have done--before our army hear me. + +MARCIUS +I have some wounds upon me, and they smart +To hear themselves remember'd. + +COMINIUS +Should they not, +Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, +And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, +Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all +The treasure in this field achieved and city, +We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth, +Before the common distribution, at +Your only choice. + +MARCIUS +I thank you, general; +But cannot make my heart consent to take +A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it; +And stand upon my common part with those +That have beheld the doing. + +A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!' cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare + +MARCIUS +May these same instruments, which you profane, +Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall +I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be +Made all of false-faced soothing! +When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, +Let him be made a coverture for the wars! +No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd +My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.-- +Which, without note, here's many else have done,-- +You shout me forth +In acclamations hyperbolical; +As if I loved my little should be dieted +In praises sauced with lies. + +COMINIUS +Too modest are you; +More cruel to your good report than grateful +To us that give you truly: by your patience, +If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, +Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, +Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, +As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius +Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, +My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, +With all his trim belonging; and from this time, +For what he did before Corioli, call him, +With all the applause and clamour of the host, +CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear +The addition nobly ever! + +Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums + +All +Caius Marcius Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +I will go wash; +And when my face is fair, you shall perceive +Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you. +I mean to stride your steed, and at all times +To undercrest your good addition +To the fairness of my power. + +COMINIUS +So, to our tent; +Where, ere we do repose us, we will write +To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, +Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome +The best, with whom we may articulate, +For their own good and ours. + +LARTIUS +I shall, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +The gods begin to mock me. I, that now +Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg +Of my lord general. + +COMINIUS +Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? + +CORIOLANUS +I sometime lay here in Corioli +At a poor man's house; he used me kindly: +He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; +But then Aufidius was with in my view, +And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you +To give my poor host freedom. + +COMINIUS +O, well begg'd! +Were he the butcher of my son, he should +Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. + +LARTIUS +Marcius, his name? + +CORIOLANUS +By Jupiter! forgot. +I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. +Have we no wine here? + +COMINIUS +Go we to our tent: +The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time +It should be look'd to: come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces. + +A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers +AUFIDIUS +The town is ta'en! + +First Soldier +'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. + +AUFIDIUS +Condition! +I would I were a Roman; for I cannot, +Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition! +What good condition can a treaty find +I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, +I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me, +And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter +As often as we eat. By the elements, +If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, +He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation +Hath not that honour in't it had; for where +I thought to crush him in an equal force, +True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way +Or wrath or craft may get him. + +First Soldier +He's the devil. + +AUFIDIUS +Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd +With only suffering stain by him; for him +Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary, +Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, +The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, +Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up +Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst +My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it +At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, +Against the hospitable canon, would I +Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city; +Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must +Be hostages for Rome. + +First Soldier +Will not you go? + +AUFIDIUS +I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you-- +'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither +How the world goes, that to the pace of it +I may spur on my journey. + +First Soldier +I shall, sir. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. +MENENIUS +The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. + +BRUTUS +Good or bad? + +MENENIUS +Not according to the prayer of the people, for they +love not Marcius. + +SICINIUS +Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, who does the wolf love? + +SICINIUS +The lamb. + +MENENIUS +Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the +noble Marcius. + +BRUTUS +He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. + +MENENIUS +He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two +are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. + +Both +Well, sir. + +MENENIUS +In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two +have not in abundance? + +BRUTUS +He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. + +SICINIUS +Especially in pride. + +BRUTUS +And topping all others in boasting. + +MENENIUS +This is strange now: do you two know how you are +censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the +right-hand file? do you? + +Both +Why, how are we censured? + +MENENIUS +Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? + +Both +Well, well, sir, well. + +MENENIUS +Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of +occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: +give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at +your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a +pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for +being proud? + +BRUTUS +We do it not alone, sir. + +MENENIUS +I know you can do very little alone; for your helps +are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous +single: your abilities are too infant-like for +doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you +could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, +and make but an interior survey of your good selves! +O that you could! + +BRUTUS +What then, sir? + +MENENIUS +Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, +proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as +any in Rome. + +SICINIUS +Menenius, you are known well enough too. + +MENENIUS +I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that +loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying +Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in +favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like +upon too trivial motion; one that converses more +with the buttock of the night than with the forehead +of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my +malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as +you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink +you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a +crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have +delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in +compound with the major part of your syllables: and +though I must be content to bear with those that say +you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that +tell you you have good faces. If you see this in +the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known +well enough too? what barm can your bisson +conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be +known well enough too? + +BRUTUS +Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. + +MENENIUS +You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You +are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you +wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a +cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; +and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a +second day of audience. When you are hearing a +matter between party and party, if you chance to be +pinched with the colic, you make faces like +mummers; set up the bloody flag against all +patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, +dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled +by your hearing: all the peace you make in their +cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are +a pair of strange ones. + +BRUTUS +Come, come, you are well understood to be a +perfecter giber for the table than a necessary +bencher in the Capitol. + +MENENIUS +Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall +encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When +you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the +wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not +so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's +cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack- +saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; +who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors +since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the +best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to +your worships: more of your conversation would +infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly +plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you. + +BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA + +How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon, +were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow +your eyes so fast? + +VOLUMNIA +Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for +the love of Juno, let's go. + +MENENIUS +Ha! Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous +approbation. + +MENENIUS +Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! +Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA VIRGILIA +Nay,'tis true. + +VOLUMNIA +Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath +another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one +at home for you. + +MENENIUS +I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for +me! + +VIRGILIA +Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. + +MENENIUS +A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven +years' health; in which time I will make a lip at +the physician: the most sovereign prescription in +Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, +of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he +not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. + +VIRGILIA +O, no, no, no. + +VOLUMNIA +O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. + +MENENIUS +So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' +victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. + +VOLUMNIA +On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home +with the oaken garland. + +MENENIUS +Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? + +VOLUMNIA +Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but +Aufidius got off. + +MENENIUS +And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: +an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so +fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold +that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? + +VOLUMNIA +Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate +has letters from the general, wherein he gives my +son the whole name of the war: he hath in this +action outdone his former deeds doubly + +VALERIA +In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. + +MENENIUS +Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his +true purchasing. + +VIRGILIA +The gods grant them true! + +VOLUMNIA +True! pow, wow. + +MENENIUS +True! I'll be sworn they are true. +Where is he wounded? + +To the Tribunes + +God save your good worships! Marcius is coming +home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? + +VOLUMNIA +I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be +large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall +stand for his place. He received in the repulse of +Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. + +MENENIUS +One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's +nine that I know. + +VOLUMNIA +He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five +wounds upon him. + +MENENIUS +Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. + +A shout and flourish + +Hark! the trumpets. + +VOLUMNIA +These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he +carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: +Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; +Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. + +A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald + +Herald +Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight +Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, +With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these +In honour follows Coriolanus. +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +Flourish + +All +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +No more of this; it does offend my heart: +Pray now, no more. + +COMINIUS +Look, sir, your mother! + +CORIOLANUS +O, +You have, I know, petition'd all the gods +For my prosperity! + +Kneels + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, my good soldier, up; +My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and +By deed-achieving honour newly named,-- +What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?-- +But O, thy wife! + +CORIOLANUS +My gracious silence, hail! +Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, +That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, +Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, +And mothers that lack sons. + +MENENIUS +Now, the gods crown thee! + +CORIOLANUS +And live you yet? + +To VALERIA + +O my sweet lady, pardon. + +VOLUMNIA +I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: +And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all. + +MENENIUS +A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep +And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome. +A curse begin at very root on's heart, +That is not glad to see thee! You are three +That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, +We have some old crab-trees here +at home that will not +Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: +We call a nettle but a nettle and +The faults of fools but folly. + +COMINIUS +Ever right. + +CORIOLANUS +Menenius ever, ever. + +Herald +Give way there, and go on! + +CORIOLANUS +[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours: +Ere in our own house I do shade my head, +The good patricians must be visited; +From whom I have received not only greetings, +But with them change of honours. + +VOLUMNIA +I have lived +To see inherited my very wishes +And the buildings of my fancy: only +There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but +Our Rome will cast upon thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Know, good mother, +I had rather be their servant in my way, +Than sway with them in theirs. + +COMINIUS +On, to the Capitol! + +Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward + +BRUTUS +All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights +Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse +Into a rapture lets her baby cry +While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins +Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, +Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, +Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed +With variable complexions, all agreeing +In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens +Do press among the popular throngs and puff +To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames +Commit the war of white and damask in +Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil +Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother +As if that whatsoever god who leads him +Were slily crept into his human powers +And gave him graceful posture. + +SICINIUS +On the sudden, +I warrant him consul. + +BRUTUS +Then our office may, +During his power, go sleep. + +SICINIUS +He cannot temperately transport his honours +From where he should begin and end, but will +Lose those he hath won. + +BRUTUS +In that there's comfort. + +SICINIUS +Doubt not +The commoners, for whom we stand, but they +Upon their ancient malice will forget +With the least cause these his new honours, which +That he will give them make I as little question +As he is proud to do't. + +BRUTUS +I heard him swear, +Were he to stand for consul, never would he +Appear i' the market-place nor on him put +The napless vesture of humility; +Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds +To the people, beg their stinking breaths. + +SICINIUS +'Tis right. + +BRUTUS +It was his word: O, he would miss it rather +Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, +And the desire of the nobles. + +SICINIUS +I wish no better +Than have him hold that purpose and to put it +In execution. + +BRUTUS +'Tis most like he will. + +SICINIUS +It shall be to him then as our good wills, +A sure destruction. + +BRUTUS +So it must fall out +To him or our authorities. For an end, +We must suggest the people in what hatred +He still hath held them; that to's power he would +Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and +Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, +In human action and capacity, +Of no more soul nor fitness for the world +Than camels in the war, who have their provand +Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows +For sinking under them. + +SICINIUS +This, as you say, suggested +At some time when his soaring insolence +Shall touch the people--which time shall not want, +If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy +As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire +To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze +Shall darken him for ever. + +Enter a Messenger + +BRUTUS +What's the matter? + +Messenger +You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought +That Marcius shall be consul: +I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and +The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, +Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, +Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, +As to Jove's statue, and the commons made +A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts: +I never saw the like. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol; +And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, +But hearts for the event. + +SICINIUS +Have with you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Capitol. + +Enter two Officers, to lay cushions +First Officer +Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand +for consulships? + +Second Officer +Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one +Coriolanus will carry it. + +First Officer +That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and +loves not the common people. + +Second Officer +Faith, there had been many great men that have +flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there +be many that they have loved, they know not +wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, +they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for +Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate +him manifests the true knowledge he has in their +disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets +them plainly see't. + +First Officer +If he did not care whether he had their love or no, +he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither +good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater +devotion than can render it him; and leaves +nothing undone that may fully discover him their +opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and +displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he +dislikes, to flatter them for their love. + +Second Officer +He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his +ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, +having been supple and courteous to the people, +bonneted, without any further deed to have them at +an into their estimation and report: but he hath so +planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions +in their hearts, that for their tongues to be +silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of +ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a +malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck +reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it. + +First Officer +No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they +are coming. + +A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their places; the Tribunes take their Places by themselves. CORIOLANUS stands + +MENENIUS +Having determined of the Volsces and +To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, +As the main point of this our after-meeting, +To gratify his noble service that +Hath thus stood for his country: therefore, +please you, +Most reverend and grave elders, to desire +The present consul, and last general +In our well-found successes, to report +A little of that worthy work perform'd +By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom +We met here both to thank and to remember +With honours like himself. + +First Senator +Speak, good Cominius: +Leave nothing out for length, and make us think +Rather our state's defective for requital +Than we to stretch it out. + +To the Tribunes + +Masters o' the people, +We do request your kindest ears, and after, +Your loving motion toward the common body, +To yield what passes here. + +SICINIUS +We are convented +Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts +Inclinable to honour and advance +The theme of our assembly. + +BRUTUS +Which the rather +We shall be blest to do, if he remember +A kinder value of the people than +He hath hereto prized them at. + +MENENIUS +That's off, that's off; +I would you rather had been silent. Please you +To hear Cominius speak? + +BRUTUS +Most willingly; +But yet my caution was more pertinent +Than the rebuke you give it. + +MENENIUS +He loves your people +But tie him not to be their bedfellow. +Worthy Cominius, speak. + +CORIOLANUS offers to go away + +Nay, keep your place. + +First Senator +Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear +What you have nobly done. + +CORIOLANUS +Your horror's pardon: +I had rather have my wounds to heal again +Than hear say how I got them. + +BRUTUS +Sir, I hope +My words disbench'd you not. + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir: yet oft, +When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. +You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but +your people, +I love them as they weigh. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, sit down. + +CORIOLANUS +I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun +When the alarum were struck than idly sit +To hear my nothings monster'd. + +Exit + +MENENIUS +Masters of the people, +Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-- +That's thousand to one good one--when you now see +He had rather venture all his limbs for honour +Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus +Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held +That valour is the chiefest virtue, and +Most dignifies the haver: if it be, +The man I speak of cannot in the world +Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, +When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought +Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator, +Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight, +When with his Amazonian chin he drove +The bristled lips before him: be bestrid +An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view +Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met, +And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats, +When he might act the woman in the scene, +He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed +Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age +Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea, +And in the brunt of seventeen battles since +He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, +Before and in Corioli, let me say, +I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; +And by his rare example made the coward +Turn terror into sport: as weeds before +A vessel under sail, so men obey'd +And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, +Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot +He was a thing of blood, whose every motion +Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd +The mortal gate of the city, which he painted +With shunless destiny; aidless came off, +And with a sudden reinforcement struck +Corioli like a planet: now all's his: +When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce +His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit +Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, +And to the battle came he; where he did +Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if +'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd +Both field and city ours, he never stood +To ease his breast with panting. + +MENENIUS +Worthy man! + +First Senator +He cannot but with measure fit the honours +Which we devise him. + +COMINIUS +Our spoils he kick'd at, +And look'd upon things precious as they were +The common muck of the world: he covets less +Than misery itself would give; rewards +His deeds with doing them, and is content +To spend the time to end it. + +MENENIUS +He's right noble: +Let him be call'd for. + +First Senator +Call Coriolanus. + +Officer +He doth appear. + +Re-enter CORIOLANUS + +MENENIUS +The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased +To make thee consul. + +CORIOLANUS +I do owe them still +My life and services. + +MENENIUS +It then remains +That you do speak to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +I do beseech you, +Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot +Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them, +For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you +That I may pass this doing. + +SICINIUS +Sir, the people +Must have their voices; neither will they bate +One jot of ceremony. + +MENENIUS +Put them not to't: +Pray you, go fit you to the custom and +Take to you, as your predecessors have, +Your honour with your form. + +CORIOLANUS +It is apart +That I shall blush in acting, and might well +Be taken from the people. + +BRUTUS +Mark you that? + +CORIOLANUS +To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus; +Show them the unaching scars which I should hide, +As if I had received them for the hire +Of their breath only! + +MENENIUS +Do not stand upon't. +We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, +Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul +Wish we all joy and honour. + +Senators +To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! + +Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +BRUTUS +You see how he intends to use the people. + +SICINIUS +May they perceive's intent! He will require them, +As if he did contemn what he requested +Should be in them to give. + +BRUTUS +Come, we'll inform them +Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace, +I know, they do attend us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter seven or eight Citizens +First Citizen +Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. + +Second Citizen +We may, sir, if we will. + +Third Citizen +We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a +power that we have no power to do; for if he show us +his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our +tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if +he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him +our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is +monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful, +were to make a monster of the multitude: of the +which we being members, should bring ourselves to be +monstrous members. + +First Citizen +And to make us no better thought of, a little help +will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he +himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude. + +Third Citizen +We have been called so of many; not that our heads +are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, +but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and +truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of +one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, +and their consent of one direct way should be at +once to all the points o' the compass. + +Second Citizen +Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would +fly? + +Third Citizen +Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's +will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but +if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward. + +Second Citizen +Why that way? + +Third Citizen +To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts +melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return +for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife. + +Second Citizen +You are never without your tricks: you may, you may. + +Third Citizen +Are you all resolved to give your voices? But +that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I +say, if he would incline to the people, there was +never a worthier man. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility, with MENENIUS + +Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his +behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to +come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and +by threes. He's to make his requests by +particulars; wherein every one of us has a single +honour, in giving him our own voices with our own +tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how +you shall go by him. + +All +Content, content. + +Exeunt Citizens + +MENENIUS +O sir, you are not right: have you not known +The worthiest men have done't? + +CORIOLANUS +What must I say? +'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring +My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds! +I got them in my country's service, when +Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran +From the noise of our own drums.' + +MENENIUS +O me, the gods! +You must not speak of that: you must desire them +To think upon you. + +CORIOLANUS +Think upon me! hang 'em! +I would they would forget me, like the virtues +Which our divines lose by 'em. + +MENENIUS +You'll mar all: +I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, +In wholesome manner. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +Bid them wash their faces +And keep their teeth clean. + +Re-enter two of the Citizens + +So, here comes a brace. + +Re-enter a third Citizen + +You know the cause, air, of my standing here. + +Third Citizen +We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't. + +CORIOLANUS +Mine own desert. + +Second Citizen +Your own desert! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, but not mine own desire. + +Third Citizen +How not your own desire? + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the +poor with begging. + +Third Citizen +You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to +gain by you. + +CORIOLANUS +Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship? + +First Citizen +The price is to ask it kindly. + +CORIOLANUS +Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to +show you, which shall be yours in private. Your +good voice, sir; what say you? + +Second Citizen +You shall ha' it, worthy sir. + +CORIOLANUS +A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices +begged. I have your alms: adieu. + +Third Citizen +But this is something odd. + +Second Citizen +An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter. + +Exeunt the three Citizens + +Re-enter two other Citizens + +CORIOLANUS +Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your +voices that I may be consul, I have here the +customary gown. + +Fourth Citizen +You have deserved nobly of your country, and you +have not deserved nobly. + +CORIOLANUS +Your enigma? + +Fourth Citizen +You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have +been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved +the common people. + +CORIOLANUS +You should account me the more virtuous that I have +not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my +sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer +estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account +gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is +rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise +the insinuating nod and be off to them most +counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the +bewitchment of some popular man and give it +bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, +I may be consul. + +Fifth Citizen +We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give +you our voices heartily. + +Fourth Citizen +You have received many wounds for your country. + +CORIOLANUS +I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I +will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further. + +Both Citizens +The gods give you joy, sir, heartily! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Most sweet voices! +Better it is to die, better to starve, +Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. +Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here, +To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, +Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't: +What custom wills, in all things should we do't, +The dust on antique time would lie unswept, +And mountainous error be too highly heapt +For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so, +Let the high office and the honour go +To one that would do thus. I am half through; +The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. + +Re-enter three Citizens more + +Here come more voices. +Your voices: for your voices I have fought; +Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear +Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six +I have seen and heard of; for your voices have +Done many things, some less, some more your voices: +Indeed I would be consul. + +Sixth Citizen +He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest +man's voice. + +Seventh Citizen +Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy, +and make him good friend to the people! + +All Citizens +Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Worthy voices! + +Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS + +MENENIUS +You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes +Endue you with the people's voice: remains +That, in the official marks invested, you +Anon do meet the senate. + +CORIOLANUS +Is this done? + +SICINIUS +The custom of request you have discharged: +The people do admit you, and are summon'd +To meet anon, upon your approbation. + +CORIOLANUS +Where? at the senate-house? + +SICINIUS +There, Coriolanus. + +CORIOLANUS +May I change these garments? + +SICINIUS +You may, sir. + +CORIOLANUS +That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again, +Repair to the senate-house. + +MENENIUS +I'll keep you company. Will you along? + +BRUTUS +We stay here for the people. + +SICINIUS +Fare you well. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS + +He has it now, and by his looks methink +'Tis warm at 's heart. + +BRUTUS +With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds. +will you dismiss the people? + +Re-enter Citizens + +SICINIUS +How now, my masters! have you chose this man? + +First Citizen +He has our voices, sir. + +BRUTUS +We pray the gods he may deserve your loves. + +Second Citizen +Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice, +He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices. + +Third Citizen +Certainly +He flouted us downright. + +First Citizen +No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us. + +Second Citizen +Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says +He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us +His marks of merit, wounds received for's country. + +SICINIUS +Why, so he did, I am sure. + +Citizens +No, no; no man saw 'em. + +Third Citizen +He said he had wounds, which he could show +in private; +And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, +'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom, +But by your voices, will not so permit me; +Your voices therefore.' When we granted that, +Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you: +Your most sweet voices: now you have left +your voices, +I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery? + +SICINIUS +Why either were you ignorant to see't, +Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness +To yield your voices? + +BRUTUS +Could you not have told him +As you were lesson'd, when he had no power, +But was a petty servant to the state, +He was your enemy, ever spake against +Your liberties and the charters that you bear +I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving +A place of potency and sway o' the state, +If he should still malignantly remain +Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might +Be curses to yourselves? You should have said +That as his worthy deeds did claim no less +Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature +Would think upon you for your voices and +Translate his malice towards you into love, +Standing your friendly lord. + +SICINIUS +Thus to have said, +As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit +And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd +Either his gracious promise, which you might, +As cause had call'd you up, have held him to +Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature, +Which easily endures not article +Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage, +You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler +And pass'd him unelected. + +BRUTUS +Did you perceive +He did solicit you in free contempt +When he did need your loves, and do you think +That his contempt shall not be bruising to you, +When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies +No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry +Against the rectorship of judgment? + +SICINIUS +Have you +Ere now denied the asker? and now again +Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow +Your sued-for tongues? + +Third Citizen +He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet. + +Second Citizen +And will deny him: +I'll have five hundred voices of that sound. + +First Citizen +I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em. + +BRUTUS +Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends, +They have chose a consul that will from them take +Their liberties; make them of no more voice +Than dogs that are as often beat for barking +As therefore kept to do so. + +SICINIUS +Let them assemble, +And on a safer judgment all revoke +Your ignorant election; enforce his pride, +And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not +With what contempt he wore the humble weed, +How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves, +Thinking upon his services, took from you +The apprehension of his present portance, +Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion +After the inveterate hate he bears you. + +BRUTUS +Lay +A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured, +No impediment between, but that you must +Cast your election on him. + +SICINIUS +Say, you chose him +More after our commandment than as guided +By your own true affections, and that your minds, +Preoccupied with what you rather must do +Than what you should, made you against the grain +To voice him consul: lay the fault on us. + +BRUTUS +Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you. +How youngly he began to serve his country, +How long continued, and what stock he springs of, +The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came +That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son, +Who, after great Hostilius, here was king; +Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, +That our beat water brought by conduits hither; +And [Censorinus,] nobly named so, +Twice being [by the people chosen] censor, +Was his great ancestor. + +SICINIUS +One thus descended, +That hath beside well in his person wrought +To be set high in place, we did commend +To your remembrances: but you have found, +Scaling his present bearing with his past, +That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke +Your sudden approbation. + +BRUTUS +Say, you ne'er had done't-- +Harp on that still--but by our putting on; +And presently, when you have drawn your number, +Repair to the Capitol. + +All +We will so: almost all +Repent in their election. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +Let them go on; +This mutiny were better put in hazard, +Than stay, past doubt, for greater: +If, as his nature is, he fall in rage +With their refusal, both observe and answer +The vantage of his anger. + +SICINIUS +To the Capitol, come: +We will be there before the stream o' the people; +And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, +Which we have goaded onward. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators +CORIOLANUS +Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? + +LARTIUS +He had, my lord; and that it was which caused +Our swifter composition. + +CORIOLANUS +So then the Volsces stand but as at first, +Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road. +Upon's again. + +COMINIUS +They are worn, lord consul, so, +That we shall hardly in our ages see +Their banners wave again. + +CORIOLANUS +Saw you Aufidius? + +LARTIUS +On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse +Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely +Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +Spoke he of me? + +LARTIUS +He did, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +How? what? + +LARTIUS +How often he had met you, sword to sword; +That of all things upon the earth he hated +Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes +To hopeless restitution, so he might +Be call'd your vanquisher. + +CORIOLANUS +At Antium lives he? + +LARTIUS +At Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +I wish I had a cause to seek him there, +To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, +The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them; +For they do prank them in authority, +Against all noble sufferance. + +SICINIUS +Pass no further. + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! what is that? + +BRUTUS +It will be dangerous to go on: no further. + +CORIOLANUS +What makes this change? + +MENENIUS +The matter? + +COMINIUS +Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common? + +BRUTUS +Cominius, no. + +CORIOLANUS +Have I had children's voices? + +First Senator +Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place. + +BRUTUS +The people are incensed against him. + +SICINIUS +Stop, +Or all will fall in broil. + +CORIOLANUS +Are these your herd? +Must these have voices, that can yield them now +And straight disclaim their tongues? What are +your offices? +You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? +Have you not set them on? + +MENENIUS +Be calm, be calm. + +CORIOLANUS +It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, +To curb the will of the nobility: +Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule +Nor ever will be ruled. + +BRUTUS +Call't not a plot: +The people cry you mock'd them, and of late, +When corn was given them gratis, you repined; +Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them +Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. + +CORIOLANUS +Why, this was known before. + +BRUTUS +Not to them all. + +CORIOLANUS +Have you inform'd them sithence? + +BRUTUS +How! I inform them! + +CORIOLANUS +You are like to do such business. + +BRUTUS +Not unlike, +Each way, to better yours. + +CORIOLANUS +Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, +Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me +Your fellow tribune. + +SICINIUS +You show too much of that +For which the people stir: if you will pass +To where you are bound, you must inquire your way, +Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, +Or never be so noble as a consul, +Nor yoke with him for tribune. + +MENENIUS +Let's be calm. + +COMINIUS +The people are abused; set on. This paltering +Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus +Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely +I' the plain way of his merit. + +CORIOLANUS +Tell me of corn! +This was my speech, and I will speak't again-- + +MENENIUS +Not now, not now. + +First Senator +Not in this heat, sir, now. + +CORIOLANUS +Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, +I crave their pardons: +For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them +Regard me as I do not flatter, and +Therein behold themselves: I say again, +In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate +The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, +Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, +and scatter'd, +By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, +Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that +Which they have given to beggars. + +MENENIUS +Well, no more. + +First Senator +No more words, we beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +How! no more! +As for my country I have shed my blood, +Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs +Coin words till their decay against those measles, +Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought +The very way to catch them. + +BRUTUS +You speak o' the people, +As if you were a god to punish, not +A man of their infirmity. + +SICINIUS +'Twere well +We let the people know't. + +MENENIUS +What, what? his choler? + +CORIOLANUS +Choler! +Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, +By Jove, 'twould be my mind! + +SICINIUS +It is a mind +That shall remain a poison where it is, +Not poison any further. + +CORIOLANUS +Shall remain! +Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you +His absolute 'shall'? + +COMINIUS +'Twas from the canon. + +CORIOLANUS +'Shall'! +O good but most unwise patricians! why, +You grave but reckless senators, have you thus +Given Hydra here to choose an officer, +That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but +The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit +To say he'll turn your current in a ditch, +And make your channel his? If he have power +Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake +Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd, +Be not as common fools; if you are not, +Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, +If they be senators: and they are no less, +When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste +Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, +And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,' +His popular 'shall' against a graver bench +Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself! +It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches +To know, when two authorities are up, +Neither supreme, how soon confusion +May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take +The one by the other. + +COMINIUS +Well, on to the market-place. + +CORIOLANUS +Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth +The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used +Sometime in Greece,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, well, no more of that. + +CORIOLANUS +Though there the people had more absolute power, +I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed +The ruin of the state. + +BRUTUS +Why, shall the people give +One that speaks thus their voice? + +CORIOLANUS +I'll give my reasons, +More worthier than their voices. They know the corn +Was not our recompense, resting well assured +That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war, +Even when the navel of the state was touch'd, +They would not thread the gates. This kind of service +Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war +Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd +Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation +Which they have often made against the senate, +All cause unborn, could never be the motive +Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? +How shall this bisson multitude digest +The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express +What's like to be their words: 'we did request it; +We are the greater poll, and in true fear +They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase +The nature of our seats and make the rabble +Call our cares fears; which will in time +Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in +The crows to peck the eagles. + +MENENIUS +Come, enough. + +BRUTUS +Enough, with over-measure. + +CORIOLANUS +No, take more: +What may be sworn by, both divine and human, +Seal what I end withal! This double worship, +Where one part does disdain with cause, the other +Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom, +Cannot conclude but by the yea and no +Of general ignorance,--it must omit +Real necessities, and give way the while +To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd, +it follows, +Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,-- +You that will be less fearful than discreet, +That love the fundamental part of state +More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer +A noble life before a long, and wish +To jump a body with a dangerous physic +That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out +The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick +The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour +Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state +Of that integrity which should become't, +Not having the power to do the good it would, +For the in which doth control't. + +BRUTUS +Has said enough. + +SICINIUS +Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer +As traitors do. + +CORIOLANUS +Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! +What should the people do with these bald tribunes? +On whom depending, their obedience fails +To the greater bench: in a rebellion, +When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, +Then were they chosen: in a better hour, +Let what is meet be said it must be meet, +And throw their power i' the dust. + +BRUTUS +Manifest treason! + +SICINIUS +This a consul? no. + +BRUTUS +The aediles, ho! + +Enter an AEdile + +Let him be apprehended. + +SICINIUS +Go, call the people: + +Exit AEdile + +in whose name myself +Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, +A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee, +And follow to thine answer. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, old goat! +Senators, & C We'll surety him. + +COMINIUS +Aged sir, hands off. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones +Out of thy garments. + +SICINIUS +Help, ye citizens! + +Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the AEdiles + +MENENIUS +On both sides more respect. + +SICINIUS +Here's he that would take from you all your power. + +BRUTUS +Seize him, AEdiles! + +Citizens +Down with him! down with him! +Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons! + +They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying + +'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!' +'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!' +'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!' + +MENENIUS +What is about to be? I am out of breath; +Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes +To the people! Coriolanus, patience! +Speak, good Sicinius. + +SICINIUS +Hear me, people; peace! + +Citizens +Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak. + +SICINIUS +You are at point to lose your liberties: +Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, +Whom late you have named for consul. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! +This is the way to kindle, not to quench. + +First Senator +To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. + +SICINIUS +What is the city but the people? + +Citizens +True, +The people are the city. + +BRUTUS +By the consent of all, we were establish'd +The people's magistrates. + +Citizens +You so remain. + +MENENIUS +And so are like to do. + +COMINIUS +That is the way to lay the city flat; +To bring the roof to the foundation, +And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, +In heaps and piles of ruin. + +SICINIUS +This deserves death. + +BRUTUS +Or let us stand to our authority, +Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, +Upon the part o' the people, in whose power +We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy +Of present death. + +SICINIUS +Therefore lay hold of him; +Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence +Into destruction cast him. + +BRUTUS +AEdiles, seize him! + +Citizens +Yield, Marcius, yield! + +MENENIUS +Hear me one word; +Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. + +AEdile +Peace, peace! + +MENENIUS +[To BRUTUS] Be that you seem, truly your +country's friend, +And temperately proceed to what you would +Thus violently redress. + +BRUTUS +Sir, those cold ways, +That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous +Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him, +And bear him to the rock. + +CORIOLANUS +No, I'll die here. + +Drawing his sword + +There's some among you have beheld me fighting: +Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. + +MENENIUS +Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile. + +BRUTUS +Lay hands upon him. + +COMINIUS +Help Marcius, help, +You that be noble; help him, young and old! + +Citizens +Down with him, down with him! + +In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the People, are beat in + +MENENIUS +Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! +All will be naught else. + +Second Senator +Get you gone. + +COMINIUS +Stand fast; +We have as many friends as enemies. + +MENENIUS +Sham it be put to that? + +First Senator +The gods forbid! +I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; +Leave us to cure this cause. + +MENENIUS +For 'tis a sore upon us, +You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you. + +COMINIUS +Come, sir, along with us. + +CORIOLANUS +I would they were barbarians--as they are, +Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not, +Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol-- + +MENENIUS +Be gone; +Put not your worthy rage into your tongue; +One time will owe another. + +CORIOLANUS +On fair ground +I could beat forty of them. + +COMINIUS +I could myself +Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the +two tribunes: +But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; +And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands +Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, +Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend +Like interrupted waters and o'erbear +What they are used to bear. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, be gone: +I'll try whether my old wit be in request +With those that have but little: this must be patch'd +With cloth of any colour. + +COMINIUS +Nay, come away. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others + +A Patrician +This man has marr'd his fortune. + +MENENIUS +His nature is too noble for the world: +He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, +Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: +What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; +And, being angry, does forget that ever +He heard the name of death. + +A noise within + +Here's goodly work! + +Second Patrician +I would they were abed! + +MENENIUS +I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance! +Could he not speak 'em fair? + +Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble + +SICINIUS +Where is this viper +That would depopulate the city and +Be every man himself? + +MENENIUS +You worthy tribunes,-- + +SICINIUS +He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock +With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law, +And therefore law shall scorn him further trial +Than the severity of the public power +Which he so sets at nought. + +First Citizen +He shall well know +The noble tribunes are the people's mouths, +And we their hands. + +Citizens +He shall, sure on't. + +MENENIUS +Sir, sir,-- + +SICINIUS +Peace! + +MENENIUS +Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt +With modest warrant. + +SICINIUS +Sir, how comes't that you +Have holp to make this rescue? + +MENENIUS +Hear me speak: +As I do know the consul's worthiness, +So can I name his faults,-- + +SICINIUS +Consul! what consul? + +MENENIUS +The consul Coriolanus. + +BRUTUS +He consul! + +Citizens +No, no, no, no, no. + +MENENIUS +If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, +I may be heard, I would crave a word or two; +The which shall turn you to no further harm +Than so much loss of time. + +SICINIUS +Speak briefly then; +For we are peremptory to dispatch +This viperous traitor: to eject him hence +Were but one danger, and to keep him here +Our certain death: therefore it is decreed +He dies to-night. + +MENENIUS +Now the good gods forbid +That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude +Towards her deserved children is enroll'd +In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam +Should now eat up her own! + +SICINIUS +He's a disease that must be cut away. + +MENENIUS +O, he's a limb that has but a disease; +Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. +What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? +Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-- +Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, +By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country; +And what is left, to lose it by his country, +Were to us all, that do't and suffer it, +A brand to the end o' the world. + +SICINIUS +This is clean kam. + +BRUTUS +Merely awry: when he did love his country, +It honour'd him. + +MENENIUS +The service of the foot +Being once gangrened, is not then respected +For what before it was. + +BRUTUS +We'll hear no more. +Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence: +Lest his infection, being of catching nature, +Spread further. + +MENENIUS +One word more, one word. +This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find +The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late +Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process; +Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out, +And sack great Rome with Romans. + +BRUTUS +If it were so,-- + +SICINIUS +What do ye talk? +Have we not had a taste of his obedience? +Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come. + +MENENIUS +Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars +Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd +In bolted language; meal and bran together +He throws without distinction. Give me leave, +I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him +Where he shall answer, by a lawful form, +In peace, to his utmost peril. + +First Senator +Noble tribunes, +It is the humane way: the other course +Will prove too bloody, and the end of it +Unknown to the beginning. + +SICINIUS +Noble Menenius, +Be you then as the people's officer. +Masters, lay down your weapons. + +BRUTUS +Go not home. + +SICINIUS +Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there: +Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed +In our first way. + +MENENIUS +I'll bring him to you. + +To the Senators + +Let me desire your company: he must come, +Or what is worst will follow. + +First Senator +Pray you, let's to him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians +CORIOLANUS +Let them puff all about mine ears, present me +Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, +Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, +That the precipitation might down stretch +Below the beam of sight, yet will I still +Be thus to them. + +A Patrician +You do the nobler. + +CORIOLANUS +I muse my mother +Does not approve me further, who was wont +To call them woollen vassals, things created +To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads +In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, +When one but of my ordinance stood up +To speak of peace or war. + +Enter VOLUMNIA + +I talk of you: +Why did you wish me milder? would you have me +False to my nature? Rather say I play +The man I am. + +VOLUMNIA +O, sir, sir, sir, +I would have had you put your power well on, +Before you had worn it out. + +CORIOLANUS +Let go. + +VOLUMNIA +You might have been enough the man you are, +With striving less to be so; lesser had been +The thwartings of your dispositions, if +You had not show'd them how ye were disposed +Ere they lack'd power to cross you. + +CORIOLANUS +Let them hang. + +A Patrician +Ay, and burn too. + +Enter MENENIUS and Senators + +MENENIUS +Come, come, you have been too rough, something +too rough; +You must return and mend it. + +First Senator +There's no remedy; +Unless, by not so doing, our good city +Cleave in the midst, and perish. + +VOLUMNIA +Pray, be counsell'd: +I have a heart as little apt as yours, +But yet a brain that leads my use of anger +To better vantage. + +MENENIUS +Well said, noble woman? +Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that +The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic +For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, +Which I can scarcely bear. + +CORIOLANUS +What must I do? + +MENENIUS +Return to the tribunes. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, what then? what then? + +MENENIUS +Repent what you have spoke. + +CORIOLANUS +For them! I cannot do it to the gods; +Must I then do't to them? + +VOLUMNIA +You are too absolute; +Though therein you can never be too noble, +But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, +Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, +I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me, +In peace what each of them by the other lose, +That they combine not there. + +CORIOLANUS +Tush, tush! + +MENENIUS +A good demand. + +VOLUMNIA +If it be honour in your wars to seem +The same you are not, which, for your best ends, +You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse, +That it shall hold companionship in peace +With honour, as in war, since that to both +It stands in like request? + +CORIOLANUS +Why force you this? + +VOLUMNIA +Because that now it lies you on to speak +To the people; not by your own instruction, +Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you, +But with such words that are but rooted in +Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables +Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. +Now, this no more dishonours you at all +Than to take in a town with gentle words, +Which else would put you to your fortune and +The hazard of much blood. +I would dissemble with my nature where +My fortunes and my friends at stake required +I should do so in honour: I am in this, +Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; +And you will rather show our general louts +How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em, +For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard +Of what that want might ruin. + +MENENIUS +Noble lady! +Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, +Not what is dangerous present, but the loss +Of what is past. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, my son, +Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; +And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them-- +Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business +Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant +More learned than the ears--waving thy head, +Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart, +Now humble as the ripest mulberry +That will not hold the handling: or say to them, +Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils +Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, +Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, +In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame +Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far +As thou hast power and person. + +MENENIUS +This but done, +Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; +For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free +As words to little purpose. + +VOLUMNIA +Prithee now, +Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather +Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf +Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit +You make strong party, or defend yourself +By calmness or by absence: all's in anger. + +MENENIUS +Only fair speech. + +COMINIUS +I think 'twill serve, if he +Can thereto frame his spirit. + +VOLUMNIA +He must, and will +Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. + +CORIOLANUS +Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? +Must I with base tongue give my noble heart +A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't: +Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, +This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it +And throw't against the wind. To the market-place! +You have put me now to such a part which never +I shall discharge to the life. + +COMINIUS +Come, come, we'll prompt you. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said +My praises made thee first a soldier, so, +To have my praise for this, perform a part +Thou hast not done before. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, I must do't: +Away, my disposition, and possess me +Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, +Which quired with my drum, into a pipe +Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice +That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves +Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up +The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue +Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, +Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his +That hath received an alms! I will not do't, +Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth +And by my body's action teach my mind +A most inherent baseness. + +VOLUMNIA +At thy choice, then: +To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour +Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let +Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear +Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death +With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list +Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me, +But owe thy pride thyself. + +CORIOLANUS +Pray, be content: +Mother, I am going to the market-place; +Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, +Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved +Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going: +Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; +Or never trust to what my tongue can do +I' the way of flattery further. + +VOLUMNIA +Do your will. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself +To answer mildly; for they are prepared +With accusations, as I hear, more strong +Than are upon you yet. + +CORIOLANUS +The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go: +Let them accuse me by invention, I +Will answer in mine honour. + +MENENIUS +Ay, but mildly. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, mildly be it then. Mildly! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +BRUTUS +In this point charge him home, that he affects +Tyrannical power: if he evade us there, +Enforce him with his envy to the people, +And that the spoil got on the Antiates +Was ne'er distributed. + +Enter an AEdile + +What, will he come? + +AEdile +He's coming. + +BRUTUS +How accompanied? + +AEdile +With old Menenius, and those senators +That always favour'd him. + +SICINIUS +Have you a catalogue +Of all the voices that we have procured +Set down by the poll? + +AEdile +I have; 'tis ready. + +SICINIUS +Have you collected them by tribes? + +AEdile +I have. + +SICINIUS +Assemble presently the people hither; +And when they bear me say 'It shall be so +I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either +For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them +If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.' +Insisting on the old prerogative +And power i' the truth o' the cause. + +AEdile +I shall inform them. + +BRUTUS +And when such time they have begun to cry, +Let them not cease, but with a din confused +Enforce the present execution +Of what we chance to sentence. + +AEdile +Very well. + +SICINIUS +Make them be strong and ready for this hint, +When we shall hap to give 't them. + +BRUTUS +Go about it. + +Exit AEdile + +Put him to choler straight: he hath been used +Ever to conquer, and to have his worth +Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot +Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks +What's in his heart; and that is there which looks +With us to break his neck. + +SICINIUS +Well, here he comes. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with Senators and Patricians + +MENENIUS +Calmly, I do beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece +Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods +Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice +Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's! +Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, +And not our streets with war! + +First Senator +Amen, amen. + +MENENIUS +A noble wish. + +Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens + +SICINIUS +Draw near, ye people. + +AEdile +List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say! + +CORIOLANUS +First, hear me speak. + +Both Tribunes +Well, say. Peace, ho! + +CORIOLANUS +Shall I be charged no further than this present? +Must all determine here? + +SICINIUS +I do demand, +If you submit you to the people's voices, +Allow their officers and are content +To suffer lawful censure for such faults +As shall be proved upon you? + +CORIOLANUS +I am content. + +MENENIUS +Lo, citizens, he says he is content: +The warlike service he has done, consider; think +Upon the wounds his body bears, which show +Like graves i' the holy churchyard. + +CORIOLANUS +Scratches with briers, +Scars to move laughter only. + +MENENIUS +Consider further, +That when he speaks not like a citizen, +You find him like a soldier: do not take +His rougher accents for malicious sounds, +But, as I say, such as become a soldier, +Rather than envy you. + +COMINIUS +Well, well, no more. + +CORIOLANUS +What is the matter +That being pass'd for consul with full voice, +I am so dishonour'd that the very hour +You take it off again? + +SICINIUS +Answer to us. + +CORIOLANUS +Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so. + +SICINIUS +We charge you, that you have contrived to take +From Rome all season'd office and to wind +Yourself into a power tyrannical; +For which you are a traitor to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +How! traitor! + +MENENIUS +Nay, temperately; your promise. + +CORIOLANUS +The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people! +Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune! +Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, +In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in +Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say +'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free +As I do pray the gods. + +SICINIUS +Mark you this, people? + +Citizens +To the rock, to the rock with him! + +SICINIUS +Peace! +We need not put new matter to his charge: +What you have seen him do and heard him speak, +Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, +Opposing laws with strokes and here defying +Those whose great power must try him; even this, +So criminal and in such capital kind, +Deserves the extremest death. + +BRUTUS +But since he hath +Served well for Rome,-- + +CORIOLANUS +What do you prate of service? + +BRUTUS +I talk of that, that know it. + +CORIOLANUS +You? + +MENENIUS +Is this the promise that you made your mother? + +COMINIUS +Know, I pray you,-- + +CORIOLANUS +I know no further: +Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, +Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger +But with a grain a day, I would not buy +Their mercy at the price of one fair word; +Nor cheque my courage for what they can give, +To have't with saying 'Good morrow.' + +SICINIUS +For that he has, +As much as in him lies, from time to time +Envied against the people, seeking means +To pluck away their power, as now at last +Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence +Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers +That do distribute it; in the name o' the people +And in the power of us the tribunes, we, +Even from this instant, banish him our city, +In peril of precipitation +From off the rock Tarpeian never more +To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name, +I say it shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away: +He's banish'd, and it shall be so. + +COMINIUS +Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,-- + +SICINIUS +He's sentenced; no more hearing. + +COMINIUS +Let me speak: +I have been consul, and can show for Rome +Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love +My country's good with a respect more tender, +More holy and profound, than mine own life, +My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase, +And treasure of my loins; then if I would +Speak that,-- + +SICINIUS +We know your drift: speak what? + +BRUTUS +There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd, +As enemy to the people and his country: +It shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so. + +CORIOLANUS +You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate +As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize +As the dead carcasses of unburied men +That do corrupt my air, I banish you; +And here remain with your uncertainty! +Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! +Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, +Fan you into despair! Have the power still +To banish your defenders; till at length +Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels, +Making not reservation of yourselves, +Still your own foes, deliver you as most +Abated captives to some nation +That won you without blows! Despising, +For you, the city, thus I turn my back: +There is a world elsewhere. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians + +AEdile +The people's enemy is gone, is gone! + +Citizens +Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! + +Shouting, and throwing up their caps + +SICINIUS +Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, +As he hath followed you, with all despite; +Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard +Attend us through the city. + +Citizens +Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come. +The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the city. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome +CORIOLANUS +Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast +With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, +Where is your ancient courage? you were used +To say extremity was the trier of spirits; +That common chances common men could bear; +That when the sea was calm all boats alike +Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, +When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves +A noble cunning: you were used to load me +With precepts that would make invincible +The heart that conn'd them. + +VIRGILIA +O heavens! O heavens! + +CORIOLANUS +Nay! prithee, woman,-- + +VOLUMNIA +Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, +And occupations perish! + +CORIOLANUS +What, what, what! +I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. +Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, +If you had been the wife of Hercules, +Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved +Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, +Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: +I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, +Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, +And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, +I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld +Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women +'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, +As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well +My hazards still have been your solace: and +Believe't not lightly--though I go alone, +Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen +Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son +Will or exceed the common or be caught +With cautelous baits and practise. + +VOLUMNIA +My first son. +Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius +With thee awhile: determine on some course, +More than a wild exposture to each chance +That starts i' the way before thee. + +CORIOLANUS +O the gods! + +COMINIUS +I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee +Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us +And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth +A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send +O'er the vast world to seek a single man, +And lose advantage, which doth ever cool +I' the absence of the needer. + +CORIOLANUS +Fare ye well: +Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full +Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one +That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate. +Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and +My friends of noble touch, when I am forth, +Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. +While I remain above the ground, you shall +Hear from me still, and never of me aught +But what is like me formerly. + +MENENIUS +That's worthily +As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep. +If I could shake off but one seven years +From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, +I'ld with thee every foot. + +CORIOLANUS +Give me thy hand: Come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile +SICINIUS +Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further. +The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided +In his behalf. + +BRUTUS +Now we have shown our power, +Let us seem humbler after it is done +Than when it was a-doing. + +SICINIUS +Bid them home: +Say their great enemy is gone, and they +Stand in their ancient strength. + +BRUTUS +Dismiss them home. + +Exit AEdile + +Here comes his mother. + +SICINIUS +Let's not meet her. + +BRUTUS +Why? + +SICINIUS +They say she's mad. + +BRUTUS +They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way. + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS + +VOLUMNIA +O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods +Requite your love! + +MENENIUS +Peace, peace; be not so loud. + +VOLUMNIA +If that I could for weeping, you should hear,-- +Nay, and you shall hear some. + +To BRUTUS + +Will you be gone? + +VIRGILIA +[To SICINIUS] You shall stay too: I would I had the power +To say so to my husband. + +SICINIUS +Are you mankind? + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool. +Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship +To banish him that struck more blows for Rome +Than thou hast spoken words? + +SICINIUS +O blessed heavens! + +VOLUMNIA +More noble blows than ever thou wise words; +And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go: +Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son +Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, +His good sword in his hand. + +SICINIUS +What then? + +VIRGILIA +What then! +He'ld make an end of thy posterity. + +VOLUMNIA +Bastards and all. +Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! + +MENENIUS +Come, come, peace. + +SICINIUS +I would he had continued to his country +As he began, and not unknit himself +The noble knot he made. + +BRUTUS +I would he had. + +VOLUMNIA +'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble: +Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth +As I can of those mysteries which heaven +Will not have earth to know. + +BRUTUS +Pray, let us go. + +VOLUMNIA +Now, pray, sir, get you gone: +You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- +As far as doth the Capitol exceed +The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- +This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- +Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. + +BRUTUS +Well, well, we'll leave you. + +SICINIUS +Why stay we to be baited +With one that wants her wits? + +VOLUMNIA +Take my prayers with you. + +Exeunt Tribunes + +I would the gods had nothing else to do +But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em +But once a-day, it would unclog my heart +Of what lies heavy to't. + +MENENIUS +You have told them home; +And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me? + +VOLUMNIA +Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, +And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go: +Leave this faint puling and lament as I do, +In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium. + +Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting +Roman +I know you well, sir, and you know +me: your name, I think, is Adrian. + +Volsce +It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you. + +Roman +I am a Roman; and my services are, +as you are, against 'em: know you me yet? + +Volsce +Nicanor? no. + +Roman +The same, sir. + +Volsce +You had more beard when I last saw you; but your +favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the +news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state, +to find you out there: you have well saved me a +day's journey. + +Roman +There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the +people against the senators, patricians, and nobles. + +Volsce +Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not +so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and +hope to come upon them in the heat of their division. + +Roman +The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing +would make it flame again: for the nobles receive +so to heart the banishment of that worthy +Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take +all power from the people and to pluck from them +their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can +tell you, and is almost mature for the violent +breaking out. + +Volsce +Coriolanus banished! + +Roman +Banished, sir. + +Volsce +You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor. + +Roman +The day serves well for them now. I have heard it +said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is +when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble +Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his +great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request +of his country. + +Volsce +He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus +accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my +business, and I will merrily accompany you home. + +Roman +I shall, between this and supper, tell you most +strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of +their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you? + +Volsce +A most royal one; the centurions and their charges, +distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, +and to be on foot at an hour's warning. + +Roman +I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the +man, I think, that shall set them in present action. +So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company. + +Volsce +You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause +to be glad of yours. + +Roman +Well, let us go together. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidius's house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised and muffled +CORIOLANUS +A goodly city is this Antium. City, +'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir +Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars +Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not, +Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones +In puny battle slay me. + +Enter a Citizen + +Save you, sir. + +Citizen +And you. + +CORIOLANUS +Direct me, if it be your will, +Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium? + +Citizen +He is, and feasts the nobles of the state +At his house this night. + +CORIOLANUS +Which is his house, beseech you? + +Citizen +This, here before you. + +CORIOLANUS +Thank you, sir: farewell. + +Exit Citizen + +O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, +Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, +Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, +Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love +Unseparable, shall within this hour, +On a dissension of a doit, break out +To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, +Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, +To take the one the other, by some chance, +Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends +And interjoin their issues. So with me: +My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon +This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me, +He does fair justice; if he give me way, +I'll do his country service. + +Exit + +SCENE V. The same. A hall in Aufidius's house. + +Music within. Enter a Servingman +First Servingman +Wine, wine, wine! What service +is here! I think our fellows are asleep. + +Exit + +Enter a second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Where's Cotus? my master calls +for him. Cotus! + +Exit + +Enter CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I +Appear not like a guest. + +Re-enter the first Servingman + +First Servingman +What would you have, friend? whence are you? +Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +I have deserved no better entertainment, +In being Coriolanus. + +Re-enter second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his +head; that he gives entrance to such companions? +Pray, get you out. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +Second Servingman +Away! get you away. + +CORIOLANUS +Now thou'rt troublesome. + +Second Servingman +Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. + +Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him + +Third Servingman +What fellow's this? + +First Servingman +A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him +out of the house: prithee, call my master to him. + +Retires + +Third Servingman +What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid +the house. + +CORIOLANUS +Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth. + +Third Servingman +What are you? + +CORIOLANUS +A gentleman. + +Third Servingman +A marvellous poor one. + +CORIOLANUS +True, so I am. + +Third Servingman +Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other +station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come. + +CORIOLANUS +Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits. + +Pushes him away + +Third Servingman +What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a +strange guest he has here. + +Second Servingman +And I shall. + +Exit + +Third Servingman +Where dwellest thou? + +CORIOLANUS +Under the canopy. + +Third Servingman +Under the canopy! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay. + +Third Servingman +Where's that? + +CORIOLANUS +I' the city of kites and crows. + +Third Servingman +I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! +Then thou dwellest with daws too? + +CORIOLANUS +No, I serve not thy master. + +Third Servingman +How, sir! do you meddle with my master? + +CORIOLANUS +Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy +mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy +trencher, hence! + +Beats him away. Exit third Servingman + +Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman + +AUFIDIUS +Where is this fellow? + +Second Servingman +Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for +disturbing the lords within. + +Retires + +AUFIDIUS +Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? +Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +If, Tullus, + +Unmuffling + +Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not +Think me for the man I am, necessity +Commands me name myself. + +AUFIDIUS +What is thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, +And harsh in sound to thine. + +AUFIDIUS +Say, what's thy name? +Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face +Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn. +Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st +thou me yet? + +AUFIDIUS +I know thee not: thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done +To thee particularly and to all the Volsces +Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may +My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, +The extreme dangers and the drops of blood +Shed for my thankless country are requited +But with that surname; a good memory, +And witness of the malice and displeasure +Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; +The cruelty and envy of the people, +Permitted by our dastard nobles, who +Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; +And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be +Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity +Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope-- +Mistake me not--to save my life, for if +I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world +I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, +To be full quit of those my banishers, +Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast +A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge +Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims +Of shame seen through thy country, speed +thee straight, +And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it +That my revengeful services may prove +As benefits to thee, for I will fight +Against my canker'd country with the spleen +Of all the under fiends. But if so be +Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes +Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am +Longer to live most weary, and present +My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; +Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, +Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate, +Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, +And cannot live but to thy shame, unless +It be to do thee service. + +AUFIDIUS +O Marcius, Marcius! +Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart +A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter +Should from yond cloud speak divine things, +And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more +Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine +Mine arms about that body, where against +My grained ash an hundred times hath broke +And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip +The anvil of my sword, and do contest +As hotly and as nobly with thy love +As ever in ambitious strength I did +Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, +I loved the maid I married; never man +Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, +Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart +Than when I first my wedded mistress saw +Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, +We have a power on foot; and I had purpose +Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, +Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out +Twelve several times, and I have nightly since +Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me; +We have been down together in my sleep, +Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, +And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, +Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that +Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all +From twelve to seventy, and pouring war +Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, +Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in, +And take our friendly senators by the hands; +Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, +Who am prepared against your territories, +Though not for Rome itself. + +CORIOLANUS +You bless me, gods! + +AUFIDIUS +Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have +The leading of thine own revenges, take +The one half of my commission; and set down-- +As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st +Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways; +Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, +Or rudely visit them in parts remote, +To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: +Let me commend thee first to those that shall +Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! +And more a friend than e'er an enemy; +Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome! + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two Servingmen come forward + +First Servingman +Here's a strange alteration! + +Second Servingman +By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with +a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a +false report of him. + +First Servingman +What an arm he has! he turned me about with his +finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top. + +Second Servingman +Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in +him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I +cannot tell how to term it. + +First Servingman +He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, +but I thought there was more in him than I could think. + +Second Servingman +So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest +man i' the world. + +First Servingman +I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on. + +Second Servingman +Who, my master? + +First Servingman +Nay, it's no matter for that. + +Second Servingman +Worth six on him. + +First Servingman +Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the +greater soldier. + +Second Servingman +Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: +for the defence of a town, our general is excellent. + +First Servingman +Ay, and for an assault too. + +Re-enter third Servingman + +Third Servingman +O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals! + +First Servingman Second Servingman +What, what, what? let's partake. + +Third Servingman +I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as +lieve be a condemned man. + +First Servingman Second Servingman +Wherefore? wherefore? + +Third Servingman +Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, +Caius Marcius. + +First Servingman +Why do you say 'thwack our general '? + +Third Servingman +I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always +good enough for him. + +Second Servingman +Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too +hard for him; I have heard him say so himself. + +First Servingman +He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth +on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched +him like a carbon ado. + +Second Servingman +An he had been cannibally given, he might have +broiled and eaten him too. + +First Servingman +But, more of thy news? + +Third Servingman +Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son +and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no +question asked him by any of the senators, but they +stand bald before him: our general himself makes a +mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and +turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But +the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i' +the middle and but one half of what he was +yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty +and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, +and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he +will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled. + +Second Servingman +And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. + +Third Servingman +Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as +many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it +were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as +we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude. + +First Servingman +Directitude! what's that? + +Third Servingman +But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, +and the man in blood, they will out of their +burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with +him. + +First Servingman +But when goes this forward? + +Third Servingman +To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the +drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a +parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they +wipe their lips. + +Second Servingman +Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. +This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase +tailors, and breed ballad-makers. + +First Servingman +Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as +day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and +full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; +mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more +bastard children than war's a destroyer of men. + +Second Servingman +'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to +be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a +great maker of cuckolds. + +First Servingman +Ay, and it makes men hate one another. + +Third Servingman +Reason; because they then less need one another. +The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap +as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising. + +All +In, in, in, in! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. A public place. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +SICINIUS +We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; +His remedies are tame i' the present peace +And quietness of the people, which before +Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends +Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, +Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold +Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see +Our tradesmen with in their shops and going +About their functions friendly. + +BRUTUS +We stood to't in good time. + +Enter MENENIUS + +Is this Menenius? + +SICINIUS +'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. + +Both Tribunes +Hail sir! + +MENENIUS +Hail to you both! + +SICINIUS +Your Coriolanus +Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: +The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, +Were he more angry at it. + +MENENIUS +All's well; and might have been much better, if +He could have temporized. + +SICINIUS +Where is he, hear you? + +MENENIUS +Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife +Hear nothing from him. + +Enter three or four Citizens + +Citizens +The gods preserve you both! + +SICINIUS +God-den, our neighbours. + +BRUTUS +God-den to you all, god-den to you all. + +First Citizen +Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, +Are bound to pray for you both. + +SICINIUS +Live, and thrive! + +BRUTUS +Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus +Had loved you as we did. + +Citizens +Now the gods keep you! + +Both Tribunes +Farewell, farewell. + +Exeunt Citizens + +SICINIUS +This is a happier and more comely time +Than when these fellows ran about the streets, +Crying confusion. + +BRUTUS +Caius Marcius was +A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, +O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, +Self-loving,-- + +SICINIUS +And affecting one sole throne, +Without assistance. + +MENENIUS +I think not so. + +SICINIUS +We should by this, to all our lamentation, +If he had gone forth consul, found it so. + +BRUTUS +The gods have well prevented it, and Rome +Sits safe and still without him. + +Enter an AEdile + +AEdile +Worthy tribunes, +There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, +Reports, the Volsces with two several powers +Are enter'd in the Roman territories, +And with the deepest malice of the war +Destroy what lies before 'em. + +MENENIUS +'Tis Aufidius, +Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, +Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; +Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, +And durst not once peep out. + +SICINIUS +Come, what talk you +Of Marcius? + +BRUTUS +Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be +The Volsces dare break with us. + +MENENIUS +Cannot be! +We have record that very well it can, +And three examples of the like have been +Within my age. But reason with the fellow, +Before you punish him, where he heard this, +Lest you shall chance to whip your information +And beat the messenger who bids beware +Of what is to be dreaded. + +SICINIUS +Tell not me: +I know this cannot be. + +BRUTUS +Not possible. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The nobles in great earnestness are going +All to the senate-house: some news is come +That turns their countenances. + +SICINIUS +'Tis this slave;-- +Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising; +Nothing but his report. + +Messenger +Yes, worthy sir, +The slave's report is seconded; and more, +More fearful, is deliver'd. + +SICINIUS +What more fearful? + +Messenger +It is spoke freely out of many mouths-- +How probable I do not know--that Marcius, +Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, +And vows revenge as spacious as between +The young'st and oldest thing. + +SICINIUS +This is most likely! + +BRUTUS +Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish +Good Marcius home again. + +SICINIUS +The very trick on't. + +MENENIUS +This is unlikely: +He and Aufidius can no more atone +Than violentest contrariety. + +Enter a second Messenger + +Second Messenger +You are sent for to the senate: +A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius +Associated with Aufidius, rages +Upon our territories; and have already +O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took +What lay before them. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +O, you have made good work! + +MENENIUS +What news? what news? + +COMINIUS +You have holp to ravish your own daughters and +To melt the city leads upon your pates, +To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,-- + +MENENIUS +What's the news? what's the news? + +COMINIUS +Your temples burned in their cement, and +Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined +Into an auger's bore. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, your news? +You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?-- +If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,-- + +COMINIUS +If! +He is their god: he leads them like a thing +Made by some other deity than nature, +That shapes man better; and they follow him, +Against us brats, with no less confidence +Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, +Or butchers killing flies. + +MENENIUS +You have made good work, +You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much +on the voice of occupation and +The breath of garlic-eaters! + +COMINIUS +He will shake +Your Rome about your ears. + +MENENIUS +As Hercules +Did shake down mellow fruit. +You have made fair work! + +BRUTUS +But is this true, sir? + +COMINIUS +Ay; and you'll look pale +Before you find it other. All the regions +Do smilingly revolt; and who resist +Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, +And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him? +Your enemies and his find something in him. + +MENENIUS +We are all undone, unless +The noble man have mercy. + +COMINIUS +Who shall ask it? +The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people +Deserve such pity of him as the wolf +Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they +Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even +As those should do that had deserved his hate, +And therein show'd like enemies. + +MENENIUS +'Tis true: +If he were putting to my house the brand +That should consume it, I have not the face +To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands, +You and your crafts! you have crafted fair! + +COMINIUS +You have brought +A trembling upon Rome, such as was never +So incapable of help. + +Both Tribunes +Say not we brought it. + +MENENIUS +How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts +And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, +Who did hoot him out o' the city. + +COMINIUS +But I fear +They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, +The second name of men, obeys his points +As if he were his officer: desperation +Is all the policy, strength and defence, +That Rome can make against them. + +Enter a troop of Citizens + +MENENIUS +Here come the clusters. +And is Aufidius with him? You are they +That made the air unwholesome, when you cast +Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at +Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming; +And not a hair upon a soldier's head +Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs +As you threw caps up will he tumble down, +And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter; +if he could burn us all into one coal, +We have deserved it. + +Citizens +Faith, we hear fearful news. + +First Citizen +For mine own part, +When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity. + +Second Citizen +And so did I. + +Third Citizen +And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very +many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and +though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet +it was against our will. + +COMINIUS +Ye re goodly things, you voices! + +MENENIUS +You have made +Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol? + +COMINIUS +O, ay, what else? + +Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS + +SICINIUS +Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd: +These are a side that would be glad to have +This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, +And show no sign of fear. + +First Citizen +The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. +I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished +him. + +Second Citizen +So did we all. But, come, let's home. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +I do not like this news. + +SICINIUS +Nor I. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth +Would buy this for a lie! + +SICINIUS +Pray, let us go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. A camp, at a small distance from Rome. + +Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant +AUFIDIUS +Do they still fly to the Roman? + +Lieutenant +I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but +Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, +Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; +And you are darken'd in this action, sir, +Even by your own. + +AUFIDIUS +I cannot help it now, +Unless, by using means, I lame the foot +Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, +Even to my person, than I thought he would +When first I did embrace him: yet his nature +In that's no changeling; and I must excuse +What cannot be amended. + +Lieutenant +Yet I wish, sir,-- +I mean for your particular,--you had not +Join'd in commission with him; but either +Had borne the action of yourself, or else +To him had left it solely. + +AUFIDIUS +I understand thee well; and be thou sure, +when he shall come to his account, he knows not +What I can urge against him. Although it seems, +And so he thinks, and is no less apparent +To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly. +And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, +Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon +As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone +That which shall break his neck or hazard mine, +Whene'er we come to our account. + +Lieutenant +Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? + +AUFIDIUS +All places yield to him ere he sits down; +And the nobility of Rome are his: +The senators and patricians love him too: +The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people +Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty +To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome +As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it +By sovereignty of nature. First he was +A noble servant to them; but he could not +Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, +Which out of daily fortune ever taints +The happy man; whether defect of judgment, +To fail in the disposing of those chances +Which he was lord of; or whether nature, +Not to be other than one thing, not moving +From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace +Even with the same austerity and garb +As he controll'd the war; but one of these-- +As he hath spices of them all, not all, +For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd, +So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit, +To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues +Lie in the interpretation of the time: +And power, unto itself most commendable, +Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair +To extol what it hath done. +One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; +Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail. +Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, +Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others +MENENIUS +No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said +Which was sometime his general; who loved him +In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: +But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; +A mile before his tent fall down, and knee +The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd +To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. + +COMINIUS +He would not seem to know me. + +MENENIUS +Do you hear? + +COMINIUS +Yet one time he did call me by my name: +I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops +That we have bled together. Coriolanus +He would not answer to: forbad all names; +He was a kind of nothing, titleless, +Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire +Of burning Rome. + +MENENIUS +Why, so: you have made good work! +A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, +To make coals cheap,--a noble memory! + +COMINIUS +I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon +When it was less expected: he replied, +It was a bare petition of a state +To one whom they had punish'd. + +MENENIUS +Very well: +Could he say less? + +COMINIUS +I offer'd to awaken his regard +For's private friends: his answer to me was, +He could not stay to pick them in a pile +Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, +For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, +And still to nose the offence. + +MENENIUS +For one poor grain or two! +I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, +And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: +You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt +Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. + +SICINIUS +Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid +In this so never-needed help, yet do not +Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you +Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, +More than the instant army we can make, +Might stop our countryman. + +MENENIUS +No, I'll not meddle. + +SICINIUS +Pray you, go to him. + +MENENIUS +What should I do? + +BRUTUS +Only make trial what your love can do +For Rome, towards Marcius. + +MENENIUS +Well, and say that Marcius +Return me, as Cominius is return'd, +Unheard; what then? +But as a discontented friend, grief-shot +With his unkindness? say't be so? + +SICINIUS +Yet your good will +must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure +As you intended well. + +MENENIUS +I'll undertake 't: +I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip +And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. +He was not taken well; he had not dined: +The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then +We pout upon the morning, are unapt +To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd +These and these conveyances of our blood +With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls +Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him +Till he be dieted to my request, +And then I'll set upon him. + +BRUTUS +You know the very road into his kindness, +And cannot lose your way. + +MENENIUS +Good faith, I'll prove him, +Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge +Of my success. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +He'll never hear him. + +SICINIUS +Not? + +COMINIUS +I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye +Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury +The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; +'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me +Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, +He sent in writing after me; what he would not, +Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: +So that all hope is vain. +Unless his noble mother, and his wife; +Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him +For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, +And with our fair entreaties haste them on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome. +Two Sentinels on guard. + +Enter to them, MENENIUS + +First Senator +Stay: whence are you? + +Second Senator +Stand, and go back. + +MENENIUS +You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave, +I am an officer of state, and come +To speak with Coriolanus. + +First Senator +From whence? + +MENENIUS +From Rome. + +First Senator +You may not pass, you must return: our general +Will no more hear from thence. + +Second Senator +You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before +You'll speak with Coriolanus. + +MENENIUS +Good my friends, +If you have heard your general talk of Rome, +And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks, +My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius. + +First Senator +Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name +Is not here passable. + +MENENIUS +I tell thee, fellow, +The general is my lover: I have been +The book of his good acts, whence men have read +His name unparallel'd, haply amplified; +For I have ever verified my friends, +Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity +Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes, +Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground, +I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise +Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow, +I must have leave to pass. + +First Senator +Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his +behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you +should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous +to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, +always factionary on the party of your general. + +Second Senator +Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you +have, I am one that, telling true under him, must +say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not +speak with him till after dinner. + +First Senator +You are a Roman, are you? + +MENENIUS +I am, as thy general is. + +First Senator +Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, +when you have pushed out your gates the very +defender of them, and, in a violent popular +ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to +front his revenges with the easy groans of old +women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with +the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as +you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the +intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with +such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; +therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your +execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn +you out of reprieve and pardon. + +MENENIUS +Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would +use me with estimation. + +Second Senator +Come, my captain knows you not. + +MENENIUS +I mean, thy general. + +First Senator +My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest +I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's +the utmost of your having: back. + +MENENIUS +Nay, but, fellow, fellow,-- + +Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +CORIOLANUS +What's the matter? + +MENENIUS +Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you: +You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall +perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from +my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment +with him, if thou standest not i' the state of +hanging, or of some death more long in +spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now +presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. + +To CORIOLANUS + +The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy +particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than +thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! +thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's +water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to +thee; but being assured none but myself could move +thee, I have been blown out of your gates with +sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy +petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy +wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet +here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my +access to thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +MENENIUS +How! away! + +CORIOLANUS +Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs +Are servanted to others: though I owe +My revenge properly, my remission lies +In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, +Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather +Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone. +Mine ears against your suits are stronger than +Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, +Take this along; I writ it for thy sake + +Gives a letter + +And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius, +I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, +Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st! + +AUFIDIUS +You keep a constant temper. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +First Senator +Now, sir, is your name Menenius? + +Second Senator +'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the +way home again. + +First Senator +Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your +greatness back? + +Second Senator +What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? + +MENENIUS +I neither care for the world nor your general: for +such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, +ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by +himself fears it not from another: let your general +do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and +your misery increase with your age! I say to you, +as I was said to, Away! + +Exit + +First Senator +A noble fellow, I warrant him. + +Second Senator +The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the +oak not to be wind-shaken. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others +CORIOLANUS +We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow +Set down our host. My partner in this action, +You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly +I have borne this business. + +AUFIDIUS +Only their ends +You have respected; stopp'd your ears against +The general suit of Rome; never admitted +A private whisper, no, not with such friends +That thought them sure of you. + +CORIOLANUS +This last old man, +Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, +Loved me above the measure of a father; +Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge +Was to send him; for whose old love I have, +Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd +The first conditions, which they did refuse +And cannot now accept; to grace him only +That thought he could do more, a very little +I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, +Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter +Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? + +Shout within + +Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow +In the same time 'tis made? I will not. + +Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants + +My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould +Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand +The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! +All bond and privilege of nature, break! +Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. +What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, +Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not +Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; +As if Olympus to a molehill should +In supplication nod: and my young boy +Hath an aspect of intercession, which +Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces +Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never +Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, +As if a man were author of himself +And knew no other kin. + +VIRGILIA +My lord and husband! + +CORIOLANUS +These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. + +VIRGILIA +The sorrow that delivers us thus changed +Makes you think so. + +CORIOLANUS +Like a dull actor now, +I have forgot my part, and I am out, +Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, +Forgive my tyranny; but do not say +For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss +Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! +Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss +I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip +Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, +And the most noble mother of the world +Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; + +Kneels + +Of thy deep duty more impression show +Than that of common sons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, stand up blest! +Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, +I kneel before thee; and unproperly +Show duty, as mistaken all this while +Between the child and parent. + +Kneels + +CORIOLANUS +What is this? +Your knees to me? to your corrected son? +Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach +Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds +Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; +Murdering impossibility, to make +What cannot be, slight work. + +VOLUMNIA +Thou art my warrior; +I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? + +CORIOLANUS +The noble sister of Publicola, +The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle +That's curdied by the frost from purest snow +And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! + +VOLUMNIA +This is a poor epitome of yours, +Which by the interpretation of full time +May show like all yourself. + +CORIOLANUS +The god of soldiers, +With the consent of supreme Jove, inform +Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove +To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars +Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, +And saving those that eye thee! + +VOLUMNIA +Your knee, sirrah. + +CORIOLANUS +That's my brave boy! + +VOLUMNIA +Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, +Are suitors to you. + +CORIOLANUS +I beseech you, peace: +Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before: +The thing I have forsworn to grant may never +Be held by you denials. Do not bid me +Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate +Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not +Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not +To ally my rages and revenges with +Your colder reasons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, no more, no more! +You have said you will not grant us any thing; +For we have nothing else to ask, but that +Which you deny already: yet we will ask; +That, if you fail in our request, the blame +May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. + +CORIOLANUS +Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll +Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? + +VOLUMNIA +Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment +And state of bodies would bewray what life +We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself +How more unfortunate than all living women +Are we come hither: since that thy sight, +which should +Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance +with comforts, +Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow; +Making the mother, wife and child to see +The son, the husband and the father tearing +His country's bowels out. And to poor we +Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us +Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort +That all but we enjoy; for how can we, +Alas, how can we for our country pray. +Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory, +Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose +The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person, +Our comfort in the country. We must find +An evident calamity, though we had +Our wish, which side should win: for either thou +Must, as a foreign recreant, be led +With manacles thorough our streets, or else +triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, +And bear the palm for having bravely shed +Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, +I purpose not to wait on fortune till +These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee +Rather to show a noble grace to both parts +Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner +March to assault thy country than to tread-- +Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb, +That brought thee to this world. + +VIRGILIA +Ay, and mine, +That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name +Living to time. + +Young MARCIUS +A' shall not tread on me; +I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. + +CORIOLANUS +Not of a woman's tenderness to be, +Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. +I have sat too long. + +Rising + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, go not from us thus. +If it were so that our request did tend +To save the Romans, thereby to destroy +The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, +As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit +Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces +May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, +'This we received;' and each in either side +Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest +For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, +The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, +That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit +Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name, +Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; +Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, +But with his last attempt he wiped it out; +Destroy'd his country, and his name remains +To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: +Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, +To imitate the graces of the gods; +To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, +And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt +That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? +Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man +Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: +He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy: +Perhaps thy childishness will move him more +Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world +More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate +Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life +Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, +When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, +Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, +Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, +And spurn me back: but if it be not so, +Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee, +That thou restrain'st from me the duty which +To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: +Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees. +To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride +Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end; +This is the last: so we will home to Rome, +And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's: +This boy, that cannot tell what he would have +But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship, +Does reason our petition with more strength +Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go: +This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; +His wife is in Corioli and his child +Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch: +I am hush'd until our city be a-fire, +And then I'll speak a little. + +He holds her by the hand, silent + +CORIOLANUS +O mother, mother! +What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, +The gods look down, and this unnatural scene +They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! +You have won a happy victory to Rome; +But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it, +Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, +If not most mortal to him. But, let it come. +Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, +I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, +Were you in my stead, would you have heard +A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? + +AUFIDIUS +I was moved withal. + +CORIOLANUS +I dare be sworn you were: +And, sir, it is no little thing to make +Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, +What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, +I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, +Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife! + +AUFIDIUS +[Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and +thy honour +At difference in thee: out of that I'll work +Myself a former fortune. + +The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, by and by; + +To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, & c + +But we will drink together; and you shall bear +A better witness back than words, which we, +On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. +Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve +To have a temple built you: all the swords +In Italy, and her confederate arms, +Could not have made this peace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS +MENENIUS +See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond +corner-stone? + +SICINIUS +Why, what of that? + +MENENIUS +If it be possible for you to displace it with your +little finger, there is some hope the ladies of +Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. +But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are +sentenced and stay upon execution. + +SICINIUS +Is't possible that so short a time can alter the +condition of a man! + +MENENIUS +There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; +yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown +from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a +creeping thing. + +SICINIUS +He loved his mother dearly. + +MENENIUS +So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother +now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness +of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he +moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before +his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with +his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a +battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for +Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with +his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity +and a heaven to throne in. + +SICINIUS +Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. + +MENENIUS +I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his +mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy +in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that +shall our poor city find: and all this is long of +you. + +SICINIUS +The gods be good unto us! + +MENENIUS +No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto +us. When we banished him, we respected not them; +and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house: +The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune +And hale him up and down, all swearing, if +The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, +They'll give him death by inches. + +Enter a second Messenger + +SICINIUS +What's the news? + +Second Messenger +Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd, +The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone: +A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, +No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins. + +SICINIUS +Friend, +Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? + +Second Messenger +As certain as I know the sun is fire: +Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? +Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, +As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! + +Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together + +The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes, +Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans, +Make the sun dance. Hark you! + +A shout within + +MENENIUS +This is good news: +I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia +Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, +A city full; of tribunes, such as you, +A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day: +This morning for ten thousand of your throats +I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! + +Music still, with shouts + +SICINIUS +First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, +Accept my thankfulness. + +Second Messenger +Sir, we have all +Great cause to give great thanks. + +SICINIUS +They are near the city? + +Second Messenger +Almost at point to enter. + +SICINIUS +We will meet them, +And help the joy. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, & c. passing over the stage, followed by Patricians and others +First Senator +Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! +Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, +And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: +Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, +Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; +Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!' + +All +Welcome, ladies, Welcome! + +A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants +AUFIDIUS +Go tell the lords o' the city I am here: +Deliver them this paper: having read it, +Bid them repair to the market place; where I, +Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, +Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse +The city ports by this hath enter'd and +Intends to appear before the people, hoping +To purge herself with words: dispatch. + +Exeunt Attendants + +Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction + +Most welcome! + +First Conspirator +How is it with our general? + +AUFIDIUS +Even so +As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, +And with his charity slain. + +Second Conspirator +Most noble sir, +If you do hold the same intent wherein +You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you +Of your great danger. + +AUFIDIUS +Sir, I cannot tell: +We must proceed as we do find the people. + +Third Conspirator +The people will remain uncertain whilst +'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either +Makes the survivor heir of all. + +AUFIDIUS +I know it; +And my pretext to strike at him admits +A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd +Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd, +He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, +Seducing so my friends; and, to this end, +He bow'd his nature, never known before +But to be rough, unswayable and free. + +Third Conspirator +Sir, his stoutness +When he did stand for consul, which he lost +By lack of stooping,-- + +AUFIDIUS +That I would have spoke of: +Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; +Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; +Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way +In all his own desires; nay, let him choose +Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, +My best and freshest men; served his designments +In mine own person; holp to reap the fame +Which he did end all his; and took some pride +To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, +I seem'd his follower, not partner, and +He waged me with his countenance, as if +I had been mercenary. + +First Conspirator +So he did, my lord: +The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last, +When he had carried Rome and that we look'd +For no less spoil than glory,-- + +AUFIDIUS +There was it: +For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. +At a few drops of women's rheum, which are +As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour +Of our great action: therefore shall he die, +And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! + +Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People + +First Conspirator +Your native town you enter'd like a post, +And had no welcomes home: but he returns, +Splitting the air with noise. + +Second Conspirator +And patient fools, +Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear +With giving him glory. + +Third Conspirator +Therefore, at your vantage, +Ere he express himself, or move the people +With what he would say, let him feel your sword, +Which we will second. When he lies along, +After your way his tale pronounced shall bury +His reasons with his body. + +AUFIDIUS +Say no more: +Here come the lords. + +Enter the Lords of the city + +All The Lords +You are most welcome home. + +AUFIDIUS +I have not deserved it. +But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused +What I have written to you? + +Lords +We have. + +First Lord +And grieve to hear't. +What faults he made before the last, I think +Might have found easy fines: but there to end +Where he was to begin and give away +The benefit of our levies, answering us +With our own charge, making a treaty where +There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse. + +AUFIDIUS +He approaches: you shall hear him. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him + +CORIOLANUS +Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier, +No more infected with my country's love +Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting +Under your great command. You are to know +That prosperously I have attempted and +With bloody passage led your wars even to +The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home +Do more than counterpoise a full third part +The charges of the action. We have made peace +With no less honour to the Antiates +Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, +Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, +Together with the seal o' the senate, what +We have compounded on. + +AUFIDIUS +Read it not, noble lords; +But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree +He hath abused your powers. + +CORIOLANUS +Traitor! how now! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, traitor, Marcius! + +CORIOLANUS +Marcius! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think +I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name +Coriolanus in Corioli? +You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously +He has betray'd your business, and given up, +For certain drops of salt, your city Rome, +I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother; +Breaking his oath and resolution like +A twist of rotten silk, never admitting +Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears +He whined and roar'd away your victory, +That pages blush'd at him and men of heart +Look'd wondering each at other. + +CORIOLANUS +Hear'st thou, Mars? + +AUFIDIUS +Name not the god, thou boy of tears! + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! + +AUFIDIUS +No more. + +CORIOLANUS +Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart +Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave! +Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever +I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, +Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-- +Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that +Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join +To thrust the lie unto him. + +First Lord +Peace, both, and hear me speak. + +CORIOLANUS +Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, +Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound! +If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, +That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I +Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: +Alone I did it. Boy! + +AUFIDIUS +Why, noble lords, +Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, +Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, +'Fore your own eyes and ears? + +All Conspirators +Let him die for't. + +All The People +'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd +my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin +Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' + +Second Lord +Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! +The man is noble and his fame folds-in +This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us +Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, +And trouble not the peace. + +CORIOLANUS +O that I had him, +With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, +To use my lawful sword! + +AUFIDIUS +Insolent villain! + +All Conspirators +Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! + +The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body + +Lords +Hold, hold, hold, hold! + +AUFIDIUS +My noble masters, hear me speak. + +First Lord +O Tullus,-- + +Second Lord +Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. + +Third Lord +Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; +Put up your swords. + +AUFIDIUS +My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, +Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger +Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice +That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours +To call me to your senate, I'll deliver +Myself your loyal servant, or endure +Your heaviest censure. + +First Lord +Bear from hence his body; +And mourn you for him: let him be regarded +As the most noble corse that ever herald +Did follow to his urn. + +Second Lord +His own impatience +Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. +Let's make the best of it. + +AUFIDIUS +My rage is gone; +And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. +Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. +Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: +Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he +Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, +Which to this hour bewail the injury, +Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. + +Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded +The Life and Death of Julies Caesar +Shakespeare homepage | Julius Caeser | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners +FLAVIUS +Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: +Is this a holiday? what! know you not, +Being mechanical, you ought not walk +Upon a labouring day without the sign +Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? + +First Commoner +Why, sir, a carpenter. + +MARULLUS +Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? +What dost thou with thy best apparel on? +You, sir, what trade are you? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, +as you would say, a cobbler. + +MARULLUS +But what trade art thou? answer me directly. + +Second Commoner +A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe +conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. + +MARULLUS +What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? + +Second Commoner +Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, +if you be out, sir, I can mend you. + +MARULLUS +What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! + +Second Commoner +Why, sir, cobble you. + +FLAVIUS +Thou art a cobbler, art thou? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I +meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's +matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon +to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I +recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon +neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. + +FLAVIUS +But wherefore art not in thy shop today? +Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself +into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, +to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. + +MARULLUS +Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? +What tributaries follow him to Rome, +To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? +You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! +O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, +Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft +Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, +To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, +Your infants in your arms, and there have sat +The livelong day, with patient expectation, +To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: +And when you saw his chariot but appear, +Have you not made an universal shout, +That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, +To hear the replication of your sounds +Made in her concave shores? +And do you now put on your best attire? +And do you now cull out a holiday? +And do you now strew flowers in his way +That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! +Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, +Pray to the gods to intermit the plague +That needs must light on this ingratitude. + +FLAVIUS +Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, +Assemble all the poor men of your sort; +Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears +Into the channel, till the lowest stream +Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. + +Exeunt all the Commoners + +See whether their basest metal be not moved; +They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. +Go you down that way towards the Capitol; + +This way will I +disrobe the images, +If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. + +MARULLUS +May we do so? +You know it is the feast of Lupercal. + +FLAVIUS +It is no matter; let no images +Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, +And drive away the vulgar from the streets: +So do you too, where you perceive them thick. +These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing +Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, +Who else would soar above the view of men +And keep us all in servile fearfulness. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CASCA +Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. + +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CALPURNIA +Here, my lord. + +CAESAR +Stand you directly in Antonius' way, +When he doth run his course. Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar, my lord? + +CAESAR +Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, +To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, +The barren, touched in this holy chase, +Shake off their sterile curse. + +ANTONY +I shall remember: +When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd. + +CAESAR +Set on; and leave no ceremony out. + +Flourish + +Soothsayer +Caesar! + +CAESAR +Ha! who calls? + +CASCA +Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! + +CAESAR +Who is it in the press that calls on me? +I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, +Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +What man is that? + +BRUTUS +A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +Set him before me; let me see his face. + +CASSIUS +Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar. + +CAESAR +What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. + +Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Will you go see the order of the course? + +BRUTUS +Not I. + +CASSIUS +I pray you, do. + +BRUTUS +I am not gamesome: I do lack some part +Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. +Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; +I'll leave you. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, I do observe you now of late: +I have not from your eyes that gentleness +And show of love as I was wont to have: +You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand +Over your friend that loves you. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, +Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, +I turn the trouble of my countenance +Merely upon myself. Vexed I am +Of late with passions of some difference, +Conceptions only proper to myself, +Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors; +But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-- +Among which number, Cassius, be you one-- +Nor construe any further my neglect, +Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, +Forgets the shows of love to other men. + +CASSIUS +Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; +By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried +Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. +Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, +But by reflection, by some other things. + +CASSIUS +'Tis just: +And it is very much lamented, Brutus, +That you have no such mirrors as will turn +Your hidden worthiness into your eye, +That you might see your shadow. I have heard, +Where many of the best respect in Rome, +Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus +And groaning underneath this age's yoke, +Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, +That you would have me seek into myself +For that which is not in me? + +CASSIUS +Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: +And since you know you cannot see yourself +So well as by reflection, I, your glass, +Will modestly discover to yourself +That of yourself which you yet know not of. +And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: +Were I a common laugher, or did use +To stale with ordinary oaths my love +To every new protester; if you know +That I do fawn on men and hug them hard +And after scandal them, or if you know +That I profess myself in banqueting +To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. + +Flourish, and shout + +BRUTUS +What means this shouting? I do fear, the people +Choose Caesar for their king. + +CASSIUS +Ay, do you fear it? +Then must I think you would not have it so. + +BRUTUS +I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. +But wherefore do you hold me here so long? +What is it that you would impart to me? +If it be aught toward the general good, +Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, +And I will look on both indifferently, +For let the gods so speed me as I love +The name of honour more than I fear death. + +CASSIUS +I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, +As well as I do know your outward favour. +Well, honour is the subject of my story. +I cannot tell what you and other men +Think of this life; but, for my single self, +I had as lief not be as live to be +In awe of such a thing as I myself. +I was born free as Caesar; so were you: +We both have fed as well, and we can both +Endure the winter's cold as well as he: +For once, upon a raw and gusty day, +The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, +Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now +Leap in with me into this angry flood, +And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word, +Accoutred as I was, I plunged in +And bade him follow; so indeed he did. +The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it +With lusty sinews, throwing it aside +And stemming it with hearts of controversy; +But ere we could arrive the point proposed, +Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!' +I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, +Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder +The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber +Did I the tired Caesar. And this man +Is now become a god, and Cassius is +A wretched creature and must bend his body, +If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. +He had a fever when he was in Spain, +And when the fit was on him, I did mark +How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake; +His coward lips did from their colour fly, +And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world +Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: +Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans +Mark him and write his speeches in their books, +Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,' +As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me +A man of such a feeble temper should +So get the start of the majestic world +And bear the palm alone. + +Shout. Flourish + +BRUTUS +Another general shout! +I do believe that these applauses are +For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar. + +CASSIUS +Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world +Like a Colossus, and we petty men +Walk under his huge legs and peep about +To find ourselves dishonourable graves. +Men at some time are masters of their fates: +The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, +But in ourselves, that we are underlings. +Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'? +Why should that name be sounded more than yours? +Write them together, yours is as fair a name; +Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; +Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, +Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. +Now, in the names of all the gods at once, +Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, +That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! +Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! +When went there by an age, since the great flood, +But it was famed with more than with one man? +When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome, +That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? +Now is it Rome indeed and room enough, +When there is in it but one only man. +O, you and I have heard our fathers say, +There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd +The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome +As easily as a king. + +BRUTUS +That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; +What you would work me to, I have some aim: +How I have thought of this and of these times, +I shall recount hereafter; for this present, +I would not, so with love I might entreat you, +Be any further moved. What you have said +I will consider; what you have to say +I will with patience hear, and find a time +Both meet to hear and answer such high things. +Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: +Brutus had rather be a villager +Than to repute himself a son of Rome +Under these hard conditions as this time +Is like to lay upon us. + +CASSIUS +I am glad that my weak words +Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. + +BRUTUS +The games are done and Caesar is returning. + +CASSIUS +As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; +And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you +What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. + +Re-enter CAESAR and his Train + +BRUTUS +I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, +The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, +And all the rest look like a chidden train: +Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero +Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes +As we have seen him in the Capitol, +Being cross'd in conference by some senators. + +CASSIUS +Casca will tell us what the matter is. + +CAESAR +Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar? + +CAESAR +Let me have men about me that are fat; +Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights: +Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; +He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. + +ANTONY +Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous; +He is a noble Roman and well given. + +CAESAR +Would he were fatter! But I fear him not: +Yet if my name were liable to fear, +I do not know the man I should avoid +So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; +He is a great observer and he looks +Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, +As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; +Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort +As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit +That could be moved to smile at any thing. +Such men as he be never at heart's ease +Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, +And therefore are they very dangerous. +I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd +Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. +Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, +And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. + +Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA + +CASCA +You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me? + +BRUTUS +Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, +That Caesar looks so sad. + +CASCA +Why, you were with him, were you not? + +BRUTUS +I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. + +CASCA +Why, there was a crown offered him: and being +offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, +thus; and then the people fell a-shouting. + +BRUTUS +What was the second noise for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +CASSIUS +They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +BRUTUS +Was the crown offered him thrice? + +CASCA +Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every +time gentler than other, and at every putting-by +mine honest neighbours shouted. + +CASSIUS +Who offered him the crown? + +CASCA +Why, Antony. + +BRUTUS +Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. + +CASCA +I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: +it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark +Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown +neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told +you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my +thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he +offered it to him again; then he put it by again: +but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his +fingers off it. And then he offered it the third +time; he put it the third time by: and still as he +refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their +chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps +and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because +Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked +Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and +for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of +opening my lips and receiving the bad air. + +CASSIUS +But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? + +CASCA +He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at +mouth, and was speechless. + +BRUTUS +'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness. + +CASSIUS +No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I, +And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. + +CASCA +I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, +Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not +clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and +displeased them, as they use to do the players in +the theatre, I am no true man. + +BRUTUS +What said he when he came unto himself? + +CASCA +Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the +common herd was glad he refused the crown, he +plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his +throat to cut. An I had been a man of any +occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, +I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so +he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, +If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired +their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three +or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good +soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but +there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had +stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. + +BRUTUS +And after that, he came, thus sad, away? + +CASCA +Ay. + +CASSIUS +Did Cicero say any thing? + +CASCA +Ay, he spoke Greek. + +CASSIUS +To what effect? + +CASCA +Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the +face again: but those that understood him smiled at +one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own +part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more +news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs +off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you +well. There was more foolery yet, if I could +remember it. + +CASSIUS +Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? + +CASCA +No, I am promised forth. + +CASSIUS +Will you dine with me to-morrow? + +CASCA +Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner +worth the eating. + +CASSIUS +Good: I will expect you. + +CASCA +Do so. Farewell, both. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! +He was quick mettle when he went to school. + +CASSIUS +So is he now in execution +Of any bold or noble enterprise, +However he puts on this tardy form. +This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, +Which gives men stomach to digest his words +With better appetite. + +BRUTUS +And so it is. For this time I will leave you: +To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, +I will come home to you; or, if you will, +Come home to me, and I will wait for you. + +CASSIUS +I will do so: till then, think of the world. + +Exit BRUTUS + +Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, +Thy honourable metal may be wrought +From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet +That noble minds keep ever with their likes; +For who so firm that cannot be seduced? +Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: +If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, +He should not humour me. I will this night, +In several hands, in at his windows throw, +As if they came from several citizens, +Writings all tending to the great opinion +That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely +Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at: +And after this let Caesar seat him sure; +For we will shake him, or worse days endure. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The same. A street. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO +CICERO +Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? +Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? + +CASCA +Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth +Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, +I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds +Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen +The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, +To be exalted with the threatening clouds: +But never till to-night, never till now, +Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. +Either there is a civil strife in heaven, +Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, +Incenses them to send destruction. + +CICERO +Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? + +CASCA +A common slave--you know him well by sight-- +Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn +Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand, +Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. +Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword-- +Against the Capitol I met a lion, +Who glared upon me, and went surly by, +Without annoying me: and there were drawn +Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, +Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw +Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. +And yesterday the bird of night did sit +Even at noon-day upon the market-place, +Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies +Do so conjointly meet, let not men say +'These are their reasons; they are natural;' +For, I believe, they are portentous things +Unto the climate that they point upon. + +CICERO +Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: +But men may construe things after their fashion, +Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. +Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow? + +CASCA +He doth; for he did bid Antonius +Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. + +CICERO +Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky +Is not to walk in. + +CASCA +Farewell, Cicero. + +Exit CICERO + +Enter CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Who's there? + +CASCA +A Roman. + +CASSIUS +Casca, by your voice. + +CASCA +Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! + +CASSIUS +A very pleasing night to honest men. + +CASCA +Who ever knew the heavens menace so? + +CASSIUS +Those that have known the earth so full of faults. +For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, +Submitting me unto the perilous night, +And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, +Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; +And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open +The breast of heaven, I did present myself +Even in the aim and very flash of it. + +CASCA +But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? +It is the part of men to fear and tremble, +When the most mighty gods by tokens send +Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. + +CASSIUS +You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life +That should be in a Roman you do want, +Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze +And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, +To see the strange impatience of the heavens: +But if you would consider the true cause +Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, +Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, +Why old men fool and children calculate, +Why all these things change from their ordinance +Their natures and preformed faculties +To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find +That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, +To make them instruments of fear and warning +Unto some monstrous state. +Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man +Most like this dreadful night, +That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars +As doth the lion in the Capitol, +A man no mightier than thyself or me +In personal action, yet prodigious grown +And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. + +CASCA +'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius? + +CASSIUS +Let it be who it is: for Romans now +Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; +But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, +And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; +Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. + +CASCA +Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow +Mean to establish Caesar as a king; +And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, +In every place, save here in Italy. + +CASSIUS +I know where I will wear this dagger then; +Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: +Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; +Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: +Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, +Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, +Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; +But life, being weary of these worldly bars, +Never lacks power to dismiss itself. +If I know this, know all the world besides, +That part of tyranny that I do bear +I can shake off at pleasure. + +Thunder still + +CASCA +So can I: +So every bondman in his own hand bears +The power to cancel his captivity. + +CASSIUS +And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? +Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, +But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: +He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. +Those that with haste will make a mighty fire +Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, +What rubbish and what offal, when it serves +For the base matter to illuminate +So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, +Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this +Before a willing bondman; then I know +My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, +And dangers are to me indifferent. + +CASCA +You speak to Casca, and to such a man +That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: +Be factious for redress of all these griefs, +And I will set this foot of mine as far +As who goes farthest. + +CASSIUS +There's a bargain made. +Now know you, Casca, I have moved already +Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans +To undergo with me an enterprise +Of honourable-dangerous consequence; +And I do know, by this, they stay for me +In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night, +There is no stir or walking in the streets; +And the complexion of the element +In favour's like the work we have in hand, +Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. + +CASCA +Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. + +CASSIUS +'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; +He is a friend. + +Enter CINNA + +Cinna, where haste you so? + +CINNA +To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? + +CASSIUS +No, it is Casca; one incorporate +To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? + +CINNA +I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this! +There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. + +CASSIUS +Am I not stay'd for? tell me. + +CINNA +Yes, you are. +O Cassius, if you could +But win the noble Brutus to our party-- + +CASSIUS +Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, +And look you lay it in the praetor's chair, +Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this +In at his window; set this up with wax +Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done, +Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. +Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? + +CINNA +All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone +To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, +And so bestow these papers as you bade me. + +CASSIUS +That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. + +Exit CINNA + +Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day +See Brutus at his house: three parts of him +Is ours already, and the man entire +Upon the next encounter yields him ours. + +CASCA +O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: +And that which would appear offence in us, +His countenance, like richest alchemy, +Will change to virtue and to worthiness. + +CASSIUS +Him and his worth and our great need of him +You have right well conceited. Let us go, +For it is after midnight; and ere day +We will awake him and be sure of him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard. + +Enter BRUTUS +BRUTUS +What, Lucius, ho! +I cannot, by the progress of the stars, +Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! +I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. +When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius! + +Enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Call'd you, my lord? + +BRUTUS +Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: +When it is lighted, come and call me here. + +LUCIUS +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +It must be by his death: and for my part, +I know no personal cause to spurn at him, +But for the general. He would be crown'd: +How that might change his nature, there's the question. +It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; +And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;-- +And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, +That at his will he may do danger with. +The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins +Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, +I have not known when his affections sway'd +More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, +That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, +Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; +But when he once attains the upmost round. +He then unto the ladder turns his back, +Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees +By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. +Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel +Will bear no colour for the thing he is, +Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, +Would run to these and these extremities: +And therefore think him as a serpent's egg +Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, +And kill him in the shell. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +The taper burneth in your closet, sir. +Searching the window for a flint, I found +This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, +It did not lie there when I went to bed. + +Gives him the letter + +BRUTUS +Get you to bed again; it is not day. +Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? + +LUCIUS +I know not, sir. + +BRUTUS +Look in the calendar, and bring me word. + +LUCIUS +I will, sir. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +The exhalations whizzing in the air +Give so much light that I may read by them. + +Opens the letter and reads + +'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. +Shall Rome, & c. Speak, strike, redress! +Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' +Such instigations have been often dropp'd +Where I have took them up. +'Shall Rome, & c.' Thus must I piece it out: +Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? +My ancestors did from the streets of Rome +The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. +'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated +To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: +If the redress will follow, thou receivest +Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. + +Knocking within + +BRUTUS +'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. + +Exit LUCIUS + +Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, +I have not slept. +Between the acting of a dreadful thing +And the first motion, all the interim is +Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: +The Genius and the mortal instruments +Are then in council; and the state of man, +Like to a little kingdom, suffers then +The nature of an insurrection. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, +Who doth desire to see you. + +BRUTUS +Is he alone? + +LUCIUS +No, sir, there are moe with him. + +BRUTUS +Do you know them? + +LUCIUS +No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, +And half their faces buried in their cloaks, +That by no means I may discover them +By any mark of favour. + +BRUTUS +Let 'em enter. + +Exit LUCIUS + +They are the faction. O conspiracy, +Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, +When evils are most free? O, then by day +Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough +To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; +Hide it in smiles and affability: +For if thou path, thy native semblance on, +Not Erebus itself were dim enough +To hide thee from prevention. + +Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +I think we are too bold upon your rest: +Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? + +BRUTUS +I have been up this hour, awake all night. +Know I these men that come along with you? + +CASSIUS +Yes, every man of them, and no man here +But honours you; and every one doth wish +You had but that opinion of yourself +Which every noble Roman bears of you. +This is Trebonius. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome hither. + +CASSIUS +This, Decius Brutus. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome too. + +CASSIUS +This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. + +BRUTUS +They are all welcome. +What watchful cares do interpose themselves +Betwixt your eyes and night? + +CASSIUS +Shall I entreat a word? + +BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? + +CASCA +No. + +CINNA +O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines +That fret the clouds are messengers of day. + +CASCA +You shall confess that you are both deceived. +Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, +Which is a great way growing on the south, +Weighing the youthful season of the year. +Some two months hence up higher toward the north +He first presents his fire; and the high east +Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. + +BRUTUS +Give me your hands all over, one by one. + +CASSIUS +And let us swear our resolution. + +BRUTUS +No, not an oath: if not the face of men, +The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,-- +If these be motives weak, break off betimes, +And every man hence to his idle bed; +So let high-sighted tyranny range on, +Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, +As I am sure they do, bear fire enough +To kindle cowards and to steel with valour +The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, +What need we any spur but our own cause, +To prick us to redress? what other bond +Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, +And will not palter? and what other oath +Than honesty to honesty engaged, +That this shall be, or we will fall for it? +Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, +Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls +That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear +Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain +The even virtue of our enterprise, +Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, +To think that or our cause or our performance +Did need an oath; when every drop of blood +That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, +Is guilty of a several bastardy, +If he do break the smallest particle +Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. + +CASSIUS +But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? +I think he will stand very strong with us. + +CASCA +Let us not leave him out. + +CINNA +No, by no means. + +METELLUS CIMBER +O, let us have him, for his silver hairs +Will purchase us a good opinion +And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: +It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; +Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, +But all be buried in his gravity. + +BRUTUS +O, name him not: let us not break with him; +For he will never follow any thing +That other men begin. + +CASSIUS +Then leave him out. + +CASCA +Indeed he is not fit. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar? + +CASSIUS +Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, +Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, +Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him +A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, +If he improve them, may well stretch so far +As to annoy us all: which to prevent, +Let Antony and Caesar fall together. + +BRUTUS +Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, +To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, +Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; +For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: +Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. +We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; +And in the spirit of men there is no blood: +O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, +And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, +Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, +Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; +Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, +Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: +And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, +Stir up their servants to an act of rage, +And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make +Our purpose necessary and not envious: +Which so appearing to the common eyes, +We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. +And for Mark Antony, think not of him; +For he can do no more than Caesar's arm +When Caesar's head is off. + +CASSIUS +Yet I fear him; +For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar-- + +BRUTUS +Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: +If he love Caesar, all that he can do +Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: +And that were much he should; for he is given +To sports, to wildness and much company. + +TREBONIUS +There is no fear in him; let him not die; +For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. + +Clock strikes + +BRUTUS +Peace! count the clock. + +CASSIUS +The clock hath stricken three. + +TREBONIUS +'Tis time to part. + +CASSIUS +But it is doubtful yet, +Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no; +For he is superstitious grown of late, +Quite from the main opinion he held once +Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: +It may be, these apparent prodigies, +The unaccustom'd terror of this night, +And the persuasion of his augurers, +May hold him from the Capitol to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Never fear that: if he be so resolved, +I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear +That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, +And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, +Lions with toils and men with flatterers; +But when I tell him he hates flatterers, +He says he does, being then most flattered. +Let me work; +For I can give his humour the true bent, +And I will bring him to the Capitol. + +CASSIUS +Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. + +BRUTUS +By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? + +CINNA +Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, +Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: +I wonder none of you have thought of him. + +BRUTUS +Now, good Metellus, go along by him: +He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; +Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. + +CASSIUS +The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus. +And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember +What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. + +BRUTUS +Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; +Let not our looks put on our purposes, +But bear it as our Roman actors do, +With untired spirits and formal constancy: +And so good morrow to you every one. + +Exeunt all but BRUTUS + +Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; +Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: +Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, +Which busy care draws in the brains of men; +Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. + +Enter PORTIA + +PORTIA +Brutus, my lord! + +BRUTUS +Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? +It is not for your health thus to commit +Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. + +PORTIA +Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, +Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, +You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, +Musing and sighing, with your arms across, +And when I ask'd you what the matter was, +You stared upon me with ungentle looks; +I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, +And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; +Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, +But, with an angry wafture of your hand, +Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; +Fearing to strengthen that impatience +Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal +Hoping it was but an effect of humour, +Which sometime hath his hour with every man. +It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, +And could it work so much upon your shape +As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, +I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, +Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. + +BRUTUS +I am not well in health, and that is all. + +PORTIA +Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, +He would embrace the means to come by it. + +BRUTUS +Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. + +PORTIA +Is Brutus sick? and is it physical +To walk unbraced and suck up the humours +Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, +And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, +To dare the vile contagion of the night +And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air +To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; +You have some sick offence within your mind, +Which, by the right and virtue of my place, +I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, +I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, +By all your vows of love and that great vow +Which did incorporate and make us one, +That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, +Why you are heavy, and what men to-night +Have had to resort to you: for here have been +Some six or seven, who did hide their faces +Even from darkness. + +BRUTUS +Kneel not, gentle Portia. + +PORTIA +I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. +Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, +Is it excepted I should know no secrets +That appertain to you? Am I yourself +But, as it were, in sort or limitation, +To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, +And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs +Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, +Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. + +BRUTUS +You are my true and honourable wife, +As dear to me as are the ruddy drops +That visit my sad heart + +PORTIA +If this were true, then should I know this secret. +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. +Think you I am no stronger than my sex, +Being so father'd and so husbanded? +Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: +I have made strong proof of my constancy, +Giving myself a voluntary wound +Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. +And not my husband's secrets? + +BRUTUS +O ye gods, +Render me worthy of this noble wife! + +Knocking within + +Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; +And by and by thy bosom shall partake +The secrets of my heart. +All my engagements I will construe to thee, +All the charactery of my sad brows: +Leave me with haste. + +Exit PORTIA + +Lucius, who's that knocks? + +Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS + +LUCIUS +He is a sick man that would speak with you. + +BRUTUS +Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. +Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? + +LIGARIUS +Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. + +BRUTUS +O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, +To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! + +LIGARIUS +I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand +Any exploit worthy the name of honour. + +BRUTUS +Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, +Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. + +LIGARIUS +By all the gods that Romans bow before, +I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! +Brave son, derived from honourable loins! +Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up +My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, +And I will strive with things impossible; +Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? + +BRUTUS +A piece of work that will make sick men whole. + +LIGARIUS +But are not some whole that we must make sick? + +BRUTUS +That must we also. What it is, my Caius, +I shall unfold to thee, as we are going +To whom it must be done. + +LIGARIUS +Set on your foot, +And with a heart new-fired I follow you, +To do I know not what: but it sufficeth +That Brutus leads me on. + +BRUTUS +Follow me, then. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. CAESAR's house. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown +CAESAR +Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: +Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, +'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within? + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord? + +CAESAR +Go bid the priests do present sacrifice +And bring me their opinions of success. + +Servant +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +Enter CALPURNIA + +CALPURNIA +What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth? +You shall not stir out of your house to-day. + +CAESAR +Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me +Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see +The face of Caesar, they are vanished. + +CALPURNIA +Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies, +Yet now they fright me. There is one within, +Besides the things that we have heard and seen, +Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. +A lioness hath whelped in the streets; +And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; +Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, +In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, +Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; +The noise of battle hurtled in the air, +Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, +And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. +O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, +And I do fear them. + +CAESAR +What can be avoided +Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? +Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions +Are to the world in general as to Caesar. + +CALPURNIA +When beggars die, there are no comets seen; +The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. + +CAESAR +Cowards die many times before their deaths; +The valiant never taste of death but once. +Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. +It seems to me most strange that men should fear; +Seeing that death, a necessary end, +Will come when it will come. + +Re-enter Servant + +What say the augurers? + +Servant +They would not have you to stir forth to-day. +Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, +They could not find a heart within the beast. + +CAESAR +The gods do this in shame of cowardice: +Caesar should be a beast without a heart, +If he should stay at home to-day for fear. +No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well +That Caesar is more dangerous than he: +We are two lions litter'd in one day, +And I the elder and more terrible: +And Caesar shall go forth. + +CALPURNIA +Alas, my lord, +Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. +Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear +That keeps you in the house, and not your own. +We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house: +And he shall say you are not well to-day: +Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. + +CAESAR +Mark Antony shall say I am not well, +And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. + +Enter DECIUS BRUTUS + +Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar: +I come to fetch you to the senate-house. + +CAESAR +And you are come in very happy time, +To bear my greeting to the senators +And tell them that I will not come to-day: +Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: +I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. + +CALPURNIA +Say he is sick. + +CAESAR +Shall Caesar send a lie? +Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far, +To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth? +Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, +Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so. + +CAESAR +The cause is in my will: I will not come; +That is enough to satisfy the senate. +But for your private satisfaction, +Because I love you, I will let you know: +Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: +She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, +Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, +Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans +Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: +And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, +And evils imminent; and on her knee +Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +This dream is all amiss interpreted; +It was a vision fair and fortunate: +Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +In which so many smiling Romans bathed, +Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck +Reviving blood, and that great men shall press +For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. +This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. + +CAESAR +And this way have you well expounded it. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +I have, when you have heard what I can say: +And know it now: the senate have concluded +To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. +If you shall send them word you will not come, +Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock +Apt to be render'd, for some one to say +'Break up the senate till another time, +When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' +If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper +'Lo, Caesar is afraid'? +Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love +To our proceeding bids me tell you this; +And reason to my love is liable. + +CAESAR +How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! +I am ashamed I did yield to them. +Give me my robe, for I will go. + +Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA + +And look where Publius is come to fetch me. + +PUBLIUS +Good morrow, Caesar. + +CAESAR +Welcome, Publius. +What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? +Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, +Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy +As that same ague which hath made you lean. +What is 't o'clock? + +BRUTUS +Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. + +CAESAR +I thank you for your pains and courtesy. + +Enter ANTONY + +See! Antony, that revels long o' nights, +Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. + +ANTONY +So to most noble Caesar. + +CAESAR +Bid them prepare within: +I am to blame to be thus waited for. +Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! +I have an hour's talk in store for you; +Remember that you call on me to-day: +Be near me, that I may remember you. + +TREBONIUS +Caesar, I will: + +Aside + +and so near will I be, +That your best friends shall wish I had been further. + +CAESAR +Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; +And we, like friends, will straightway go together. + +BRUTUS +[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar, +The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A street near the Capitol. + +Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper +ARTEMIDORUS +'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; +come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not +Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus +loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. +There is but one mind in all these men, and it is +bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, +look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. +The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, +'ARTEMIDORUS.' +Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, +And as a suitor will I give him this. +My heart laments that virtue cannot live +Out of the teeth of emulation. +If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; +If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS. + +Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS +PORTIA +I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; +Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: +Why dost thou stay? + +LUCIUS +To know my errand, madam. + +PORTIA +I would have had thee there, and here again, +Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. +O constancy, be strong upon my side, +Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! +I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. +How hard it is for women to keep counsel! +Art thou here yet? + +LUCIUS +Madam, what should I do? +Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? +And so return to you, and nothing else? + +PORTIA +Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, +For he went sickly forth: and take good note +What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. +Hark, boy! what noise is that? + +LUCIUS +I hear none, madam. + +PORTIA +Prithee, listen well; +I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, +And the wind brings it from the Capitol. + +LUCIUS +Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. + +Enter the Soothsayer + +PORTIA +Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been? + +Soothsayer +At mine own house, good lady. + +PORTIA +What is't o'clock? + +Soothsayer +About the ninth hour, lady. + +PORTIA +Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? + +Soothsayer +Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, +To see him pass on to the Capitol. + +PORTIA +Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not? + +Soothsayer +That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar +To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, +I shall beseech him to befriend himself. + +PORTIA +Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him? + +Soothsayer +None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. +Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: +The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, +Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, +Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: +I'll get me to a place more void, and there +Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. + +Exit + +PORTIA +I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing +The heart of woman is! O Brutus, +The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! +Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit +That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. +Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; +Say I am merry: come to me again, +And bring me word what he doth say to thee. + +Exeunt severally + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. + +A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others +CAESAR +[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come. + +Soothsayer +Ay, Caesar; but not gone. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Hail, Caesar! read this schedule. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, +At your best leisure, this his humble suit. + +ARTEMIDORUS +O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit +That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar. + +CAESAR +What touches us ourself shall be last served. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly. + +CAESAR +What, is the fellow mad? + +PUBLIUS +Sirrah, give place. + +CASSIUS +What, urge you your petitions in the street? +Come to the Capitol. + +CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following + +POPILIUS +I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. + +CASSIUS +What enterprise, Popilius? + +POPILIUS +Fare you well. + +Advances to CAESAR + +BRUTUS +What said Popilius Lena? + +CASSIUS +He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. +I fear our purpose is discovered. + +BRUTUS +Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him. + +CASSIUS +Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. +Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, +Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, +For I will slay myself. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, be constant: +Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; +For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. + +CASSIUS +Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus. +He draws Mark Antony out of the way. + +Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, +And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. + +BRUTUS +He is address'd: press near and second him. + +CINNA +Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. + +CAESAR +Are we all ready? What is now amiss +That Caesar and his senate must redress? + +METELLUS CIMBER +Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, +Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat +An humble heart,-- + +Kneeling + +CAESAR +I must prevent thee, Cimber. +These couchings and these lowly courtesies +Might fire the blood of ordinary men, +And turn pre-ordinance and first decree +Into the law of children. Be not fond, +To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood +That will be thaw'd from the true quality +With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, +Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. +Thy brother by decree is banished: +If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, +I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. +Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause +Will he be satisfied. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Is there no voice more worthy than my own +To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear +For the repealing of my banish'd brother? + +BRUTUS +I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; +Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may +Have an immediate freedom of repeal. + +CAESAR +What, Brutus! + +CASSIUS +Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: +As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, +To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. + +CASSIUS +I could be well moved, if I were as you: +If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: +But I am constant as the northern star, +Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality +There is no fellow in the firmament. +The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, +They are all fire and every one doth shine, +But there's but one in all doth hold his place: +So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, +And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; +Yet in the number I do know but one +That unassailable holds on his rank, +Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, +Let me a little show it, even in this; +That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, +And constant do remain to keep him so. + +CINNA +O Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Great Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? + +CASCA +Speak, hands for me! + +CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR + +CAESAR +Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar. + +Dies + +CINNA +Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! +Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. + +CASSIUS +Some to the common pulpits, and cry out +'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!' + +BRUTUS +People and senators, be not affrighted; +Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid. + +CASCA +Go to the pulpit, Brutus. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +And Cassius too. + +BRUTUS +Where's Publius? + +CINNA +Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's +Should chance-- + +BRUTUS +Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; +There is no harm intended to your person, +Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. + +CASSIUS +And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, +Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. + +BRUTUS +Do so: and let no man abide this deed, +But we the doers. + +Re-enter TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +Where is Antony? + +TREBONIUS +Fled to his house amazed: +Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run +As it were doomsday. + +BRUTUS +Fates, we will know your pleasures: +That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time +And drawing days out, that men stand upon. + +CASSIUS +Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life +Cuts off so many years of fearing death. + +BRUTUS +Grant that, and then is death a benefit: +So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged +His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, +And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood +Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: +Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, +And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, +Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' + +CASSIUS +Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence +Shall this our lofty scene be acted over +In states unborn and accents yet unknown! + +BRUTUS +How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, +That now on Pompey's basis lies along +No worthier than the dust! + +CASSIUS +So oft as that shall be, +So often shall the knot of us be call'd +The men that gave their country liberty. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +What, shall we forth? + +CASSIUS +Ay, every man away: +Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels +With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. + +Enter a Servant + +BRUTUS +Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. + +Servant +Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: +Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; +And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: +Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; +Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: +Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; +Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him. +If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony +May safely come to him, and be resolved +How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, +Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead +So well as Brutus living; but will follow +The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus +Thorough the hazards of this untrod state +With all true faith. So says my master Antony. + +BRUTUS +Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; +I never thought him worse. +Tell him, so please him come unto this place, +He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, +Depart untouch'd. + +Servant +I'll fetch him presently. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +I know that we shall have him well to friend. + +CASSIUS +I wish we may: but yet have I a mind +That fears him much; and my misgiving still +Falls shrewdly to the purpose. + +BRUTUS +But here comes Antony. + +Re-enter ANTONY + +Welcome, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? +Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, +Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. +I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, +Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: +If I myself, there is no hour so fit +As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument +Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich +With the most noble blood of all this world. +I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, +Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, +Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, +I shall not find myself so apt to die: +No place will please me so, no mean of death, +As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, +The choice and master spirits of this age. + +BRUTUS +O Antony, beg not your death of us. +Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, +As, by our hands and this our present act, +You see we do, yet see you but our hands +And this the bleeding business they have done: +Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; +And pity to the general wrong of Rome-- +As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-- +Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, +To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: +Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts +Of brothers' temper, do receive you in +With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. + +CASSIUS +Your voice shall be as strong as any man's +In the disposing of new dignities. + +BRUTUS +Only be patient till we have appeased +The multitude, beside themselves with fear, +And then we will deliver you the cause, +Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, +Have thus proceeded. + +ANTONY +I doubt not of your wisdom. +Let each man render me his bloody hand: +First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; +Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; +Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; +Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; +Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. +Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say? +My credit now stands on such slippery ground, +That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, +Either a coward or a flatterer. +That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true: +If then thy spirit look upon us now, +Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, +To see thy thy Anthony making his peace, +Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, +Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? +Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, +Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, +It would become me better than to close +In terms of friendship with thine enemies. +Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; +Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, +Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe. +O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; +And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. +How like a deer, strucken by many princes, +Dost thou here lie! + +CASSIUS +Mark Antony,-- + +ANTONY +Pardon me, Caius Cassius: +The enemies of Caesar shall say this; +Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. + +CASSIUS +I blame you not for praising Caesar so; +But what compact mean you to have with us? +Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; +Or shall we on, and not depend on you? + +ANTONY +Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, +Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. +Friends am I with you all and love you all, +Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons +Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. + +BRUTUS +Or else were this a savage spectacle: +Our reasons are so full of good regard +That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, +You should be satisfied. + +ANTONY +That's all I seek: +And am moreover suitor that I may +Produce his body to the market-place; +And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, +Speak in the order of his funeral. + +BRUTUS +You shall, Mark Antony. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, a word with you. + +Aside to BRUTUS + +You know not what you do: do not consent +That Antony speak in his funeral: +Know you how much the people may be moved +By that which he will utter? + +BRUTUS +By your pardon; +I will myself into the pulpit first, +And show the reason of our Caesar's death: +What Antony shall speak, I will protest +He speaks by leave and by permission, +And that we are contented Caesar shall +Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. +It shall advantage more than do us wrong. + +CASSIUS +I know not what may fall; I like it not. + +BRUTUS +Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. +You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, +But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, +And say you do't by our permission; +Else shall you not have any hand at all +About his funeral: and you shall speak +In the same pulpit whereto I am going, +After my speech is ended. + +ANTONY +Be it so. +I do desire no more. + +BRUTUS +Prepare the body then, and follow us. + +Exeunt all but ANTONY + +ANTONY +O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, +That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! +Thou art the ruins of the noblest man +That ever lived in the tide of times. +Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! +Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-- +Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, +To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue-- +A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; +Domestic fury and fierce civil strife +Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; +Blood and destruction shall be so in use +And dreadful objects so familiar +That mothers shall but smile when they behold +Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war; +All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: +And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, +With Ate by his side come hot from hell, +Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice +Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; +That this foul deed shall smell above the earth +With carrion men, groaning for burial. + +Enter a Servant + +You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? + +Servant +I do, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. + +Servant +He did receive his letters, and is coming; +And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- +O Caesar!-- + +Seeing the body + +ANTONY +Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. +Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, +Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, +Began to water. Is thy master coming? + +Servant +He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. + +ANTONY +Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: +Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, +No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; +Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; +Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse +Into the market-place: there shall I try +In my oration, how the people take +The cruel issue of these bloody men; +According to the which, thou shalt discourse +To young Octavius of the state of things. +Lend me your hand. + +Exeunt with CAESAR's body + +SCENE II. The Forum. + +Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens +Citizens +We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied. + +BRUTUS +Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. +Cassius, go you into the other street, +And part the numbers. +Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; +Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; +And public reasons shall be rendered +Of Caesar's death. + +King Lear +Shakespeare homepage | King Lear | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. King Lear's palace. + +Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND +KENT +I thought the king had more affected the Duke of +Albany than Cornwall. + +GLOUCESTER +It did always seem so to us: but now, in the +division of the kingdom, it appears not which of +the dukes he values most; for equalities are so +weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice +of either's moiety. + +KENT +Is not this your son, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have +so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am +brazed to it. + +KENT +I cannot conceive you. + +GLOUCESTER +Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon +she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son +for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. +Do you smell a fault? + +KENT +I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it +being so proper. + +GLOUCESTER +But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year +elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: +though this knave came something saucily into the +world before he was sent for, yet was his mother +fair; there was good sport at his making, and the +whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this +noble gentleman, Edmund? + +EDMUND +No, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my +honourable friend. + +EDMUND +My services to your lordship. + +KENT +I must love you, and sue to know you better. + +EDMUND +Sir, I shall study deserving. + +GLOUCESTER +He hath been out nine years, and away he shall +again. The king is coming. + +Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. + +GLOUCESTER +I shall, my liege. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND + +KING LEAR +Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. +Give me the map there. Know that we have divided +In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent +To shake all cares and business from our age; +Conferring them on younger strengths, while we +Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, +And you, our no less loving son of Albany, +We have this hour a constant will to publish +Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife +May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, +Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, +Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, +And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,-- +Since now we will divest us both of rule, +Interest of territory, cares of state,-- +Which of you shall we say doth love us most? +That we our largest bounty may extend +Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, +Our eldest-born, speak first. + +GONERIL +Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; +Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; +Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; +No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; +As much as child e'er loved, or father found; +A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; +Beyond all manner of so much I love you. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] What shall Cordelia do? +Love, and be silent. + +LEAR +Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, +With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, +With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, +We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue +Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, +Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak. + +REGAN +Sir, I am made +Of the self-same metal that my sister is, +And prize me at her worth. In my true heart +I find she names my very deed of love; +Only she comes too short: that I profess +Myself an enemy to all other joys, +Which the most precious square of sense possesses; +And find I am alone felicitate +In your dear highness' love. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] Then poor Cordelia! +And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's +More richer than my tongue. + +KING LEAR +To thee and thine hereditary ever +Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; +No less in space, validity, and pleasure, +Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy, +Although the last, not least; to whose young love +The vines of France and milk of Burgundy +Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw +A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. + +CORDELIA +Nothing, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Nothing! + +CORDELIA +Nothing. + +KING LEAR +Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. + +CORDELIA +Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave +My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty +According to my bond; nor more nor less. + +KING LEAR +How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, +Lest it may mar your fortunes. + +CORDELIA +Good my lord, +You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I +Return those duties back as are right fit, +Obey you, love you, and most honour you. +Why have my sisters husbands, if they say +They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, +That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry +Half my love with him, half my care and duty: +Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, +To love my father all. + +KING LEAR +But goes thy heart with this? + +CORDELIA +Ay, good my lord. + +KING LEAR +So young, and so untender? + +CORDELIA +So young, my lord, and true. + +KING LEAR +Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower: +For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, +The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; +By all the operation of the orbs +From whom we do exist, and cease to be; +Here I disclaim all my paternal care, +Propinquity and property of blood, +And as a stranger to my heart and me +Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, +Or he that makes his generation messes +To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom +Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved, +As thou my sometime daughter. + +KENT +Good my liege,-- + +KING LEAR +Peace, Kent! +Come not between the dragon and his wrath. +I loved her most, and thought to set my rest +On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight! +So be my grave my peace, as here I give +Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs? +Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany, +With my two daughters' dowers digest this third: +Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. +I do invest you jointly with my power, +Pre-eminence, and all the large effects +That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, +With reservation of an hundred knights, +By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode +Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain +The name, and all the additions to a king; +The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, +Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, +This coronet part betwixt you. + +Giving the crown + +KENT +Royal Lear, +Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, +Loved as my father, as my master follow'd, +As my great patron thought on in my prayers,-- + +KING LEAR +The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft. + +KENT +Let it fall rather, though the fork invade +The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, +When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man? +Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, +When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound, +When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; +And, in thy best consideration, cheque +This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment, +Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; +Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound +Reverbs no hollowness. + +KING LEAR +Kent, on thy life, no more. + +KENT +My life I never held but as a pawn +To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it, +Thy safety being the motive. + +KING LEAR +Out of my sight! + +KENT +See better, Lear; and let me still remain +The true blank of thine eye. + +KING LEAR +Now, by Apollo,-- + +KENT +Now, by Apollo, king, +Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. + +KING LEAR +O, vassal! miscreant! + +Laying his hand on his sword + +ALBANY CORNWALL +Dear sir, forbear. + +KENT +Do: +Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow +Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom; +Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, +I'll tell thee thou dost evil. + +KING LEAR +Hear me, recreant! +On thine allegiance, hear me! +Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow, +Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride +To come between our sentence and our power, +Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, +Our potency made good, take thy reward. +Five days we do allot thee, for provision +To shield thee from diseases of the world; +And on the sixth to turn thy hated back +Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following, +Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, +The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter, +This shall not be revoked. + +KENT +Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, +Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. + +To CORDELIA + +The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, +That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said! + +To REGAN and GONERIL + +And your large speeches may your deeds approve, +That good effects may spring from words of love. +Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; +He'll shape his old course in a country new. + +Exit + +Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants + +GLOUCESTER +Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. + +KING LEAR +My lord of Burgundy. +We first address towards you, who with this king +Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least, +Will you require in present dower with her, +Or cease your quest of love? + +BURGUNDY +Most royal majesty, +I crave no more than what your highness offer'd, +Nor will you tender less. + +KING LEAR +Right noble Burgundy, +When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; +But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands: +If aught within that little seeming substance, +Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, +And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, +She's there, and she is yours. + +BURGUNDY +I know no answer. + +KING LEAR +Will you, with those infirmities she owes, +Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, +Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath, +Take her, or leave her? + +BURGUNDY +Pardon me, royal sir; +Election makes not up on such conditions. + +KING LEAR +Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, +I tell you all her wealth. + +To KING OF FRANCE + +For you, great king, +I would not from your love make such a stray, +To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you +To avert your liking a more worthier way +Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed +Almost to acknowledge hers. + +KING OF FRANCE +This is most strange, +That she, that even but now was your best object, +The argument of your praise, balm of your age, +Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time +Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle +So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence +Must be of such unnatural degree, +That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection +Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her, +Must be a faith that reason without miracle +Could never plant in me. + +CORDELIA +I yet beseech your majesty,-- +If for I want that glib and oily art, +To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, +I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known +It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, +No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, +That hath deprived me of your grace and favour; +But even for want of that for which I am richer, +A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue +As I am glad I have not, though not to have it +Hath lost me in your liking. + +KING LEAR +Better thou +Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better. + +KING OF FRANCE +Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature +Which often leaves the history unspoke +That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, +What say you to the lady? Love's not love +When it is mingled with regards that stand +Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? +She is herself a dowry. + +BURGUNDY +Royal Lear, +Give but that portion which yourself proposed, +And here I take Cordelia by the hand, +Duchess of Burgundy. + +KING LEAR +Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. + +BURGUNDY +I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father +That you must lose a husband. + +CORDELIA +Peace be with Burgundy! +Since that respects of fortune are his love, +I shall not be his wife. + +KING OF FRANCE +Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; +Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! +Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: +Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. +Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect +My love should kindle to inflamed respect. +Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, +Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: +Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy +Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. +Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: +Thou losest here, a better where to find. + +KING LEAR +Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we +Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see +That face of hers again. Therefore be gone +Without our grace, our love, our benison. +Come, noble Burgundy. + +Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA + +KING OF FRANCE +Bid farewell to your sisters. + +CORDELIA +The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes +Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; +And like a sister am most loath to call +Your faults as they are named. Use well our father: +To your professed bosoms I commit him +But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, +I would prefer him to a better place. +So, farewell to you both. + +REGAN +Prescribe not us our duties. + +GONERIL +Let your study +Be to content your lord, who hath received you +At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, +And well are worth the want that you have wanted. + +CORDELIA +Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: +Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. +Well may you prosper! + +KING OF FRANCE +Come, my fair Cordelia. + +Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA + +GONERIL +Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what +most nearly appertains to us both. I think our +father will hence to-night. + +REGAN +That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. + +GONERIL +You see how full of changes his age is; the +observation we have made of it hath not been +little: he always loved our sister most; and +with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off +appears too grossly. + +REGAN +'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever +but slenderly known himself. + +GONERIL +The best and soundest of his time hath been but +rash; then must we look to receive from his age, +not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed +condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness +that infirm and choleric years bring with them. + +REGAN +Such unconstant starts are we like to have from +him as this of Kent's banishment. + +GONERIL +There is further compliment of leavetaking +between France and him. Pray you, let's hit +together: if our father carry authority with +such dispositions as he bears, this last +surrender of his will but offend us. + +REGAN +We shall further think on't. + +GONERIL +We must do something, and i' the heat. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, with a letter +EDMUND +Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law +My services are bound. Wherefore should I +Stand in the plague of custom, and permit +The curiosity of nations to deprive me, +For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines +Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? +When my dimensions are as well compact, +My mind as generous, and my shape as true, +As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us +With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? +Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take +More composition and fierce quality +Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, +Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, +Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then, +Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: +Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund +As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate! +Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, +And my invention thrive, Edmund the base +Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: +Now, gods, stand up for bastards! + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted! +And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! +Confined to exhibition! All this done +Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news? + +EDMUND +So please your lordship, none. + +Putting up the letter + +GLOUCESTER +Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? + +EDMUND +I know no news, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +What paper were you reading? + +EDMUND +Nothing, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of +it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath +not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come, +if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. + +EDMUND +I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter +from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; +and for so much as I have perused, I find it not +fit for your o'er-looking. + +GLOUCESTER +Give me the letter, sir. + +EDMUND +I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The +contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. + +GLOUCESTER +Let's see, let's see. + +EDMUND +I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote +this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'This policy and reverence of age makes +the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps +our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish +them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage +in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not +as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to +me, that of this I may speak more. If our father +would sleep till I waked him, you should half his +revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your +brother, EDGAR.' +Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you +should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar! +Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain +to breed it in?--When came this to you? who +brought it? + +EDMUND +It was not brought me, my lord; there's the +cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the +casement of my closet. + +GLOUCESTER +You know the character to be your brother's? + +EDMUND +If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear +it were his; but, in respect of that, I would +fain think it were not. + +GLOUCESTER +It is his. + +EDMUND +It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is +not in the contents. + +GLOUCESTER +Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business? + +EDMUND +Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft +maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, +and fathers declining, the father should be as +ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue. + +GLOUCESTER +O villain, villain! His very opinion in the +letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, +brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, +seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain! +Where is he? + +EDMUND +I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please +you to suspend your indignation against my +brother till you can derive from him better +testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain +course; where, if you violently proceed against +him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great +gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the +heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life +for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my +affection to your honour, and to no further +pretence of danger. + +GLOUCESTER +Think you so? + +EDMUND +If your honour judge it meet, I will place you +where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an +auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and +that without any further delay than this very evening. + +GLOUCESTER +He cannot be such a monster-- + +EDMUND +Nor is not, sure. + +GLOUCESTER +To his father, that so tenderly and entirely +loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him +out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the +business after your own wisdom. I would unstate +myself, to be in a due resolution. + +EDMUND +I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the +business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal. + +GLOUCESTER +These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend +no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can +reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself +scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, +friendship falls off, brothers divide: in +cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in +palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son +and father. This villain of mine comes under the +prediction; there's son against father: the king +falls from bias of nature; there's father against +child. We have seen the best of our time: +machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all +ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our +graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall +lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the +noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his +offence, honesty! 'Tis strange. + +Exit + +EDMUND +This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, +when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit +of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our +disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as +if we were villains by necessity; fools by +heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and +treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, +liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of +planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, +by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion +of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish +disposition to the charge of a star! My +father compounded with my mother under the +dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa +major; so that it follows, I am rough and +lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, +had the maidenliest star in the firmament +twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar-- + +Enter EDGAR + +And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old +comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a +sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do +portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi. + +EDGAR +How now, brother Edmund! what serious +contemplation are you in? + +EDMUND +I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read +this other day, what should follow these eclipses. + +EDGAR +Do you busy yourself about that? + +EDMUND +I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed +unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child +and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of +ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and +maledictions against king and nobles; needless +diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation +of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. + +EDGAR +How long have you been a sectary astronomical? + +EDMUND +Come, come; when saw you my father last? + +EDGAR +Why, the night gone by. + +EDMUND +Spake you with him? + +EDGAR +Ay, two hours together. + +EDMUND +Parted you in good terms? Found you no +displeasure in him by word or countenance? + +EDGAR +None at all. + +EDMUND +Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended +him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence +till some little time hath qualified the heat of +his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth +in him, that with the mischief of your person it +would scarcely allay. + +EDGAR +Some villain hath done me wrong. + +EDMUND +That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent +forbearance till the spied of his rage goes +slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my +lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to +hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key: +if you do stir abroad, go armed. + +EDGAR +Armed, brother! + +EDMUND +Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I +am no honest man if there be any good meaning +towards you: I have told you what I have seen +and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image +and horror of it: pray you, away. + +EDGAR +Shall I hear from you anon? + +EDMUND +I do serve you in this business. + +Exit EDGAR + +A credulous father! and a brother noble, +Whose nature is so far from doing harms, +That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty +My practises ride easy! I see the business. +Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: +All with me's meet that I can fashion fit. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace. + +Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward +GONERIL +Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +By day and night he wrongs me; every hour +He flashes into one gross crime or other, +That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it: +His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us +On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, +I will not speak with him; say I am sick: +If you come slack of former services, +You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. + +OSWALD +He's coming, madam; I hear him. + +Horns within + +GONERIL +Put on what weary negligence you please, +You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question: +If he dislike it, let him to our sister, +Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, +Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man, +That still would manage those authorities +That he hath given away! Now, by my life, +Old fools are babes again; and must be used +With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused. +Remember what I tell you. + +OSWALD +Well, madam. + +GONERIL +And let his knights have colder looks among you; +What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: +I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, +That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister, +To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in the same. + +Enter KENT, disguised +KENT +If but as well I other accents borrow, +That can my speech defuse, my good intent +May carry through itself to that full issue +For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent, +If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd, +So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest, +Shall find thee full of labours. + +Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. + +Exit an Attendant + +How now! what art thou? + +KENT +A man, sir. + +KING LEAR +What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us? + +KENT +I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve +him truly that will put me in trust: to love him +that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, +and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I +cannot choose; and to eat no fish. + +KING LEAR +What art thou? + +KENT +A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. + +KING LEAR +If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a +king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? + +KENT +Service. + +KING LEAR +Who wouldst thou serve? + +KENT +You. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou know me, fellow? + +KENT +No, sir; but you have that in your countenance +which I would fain call master. + +KING LEAR +What's that? + +KENT +Authority. + +KING LEAR +What services canst thou do? + +KENT +I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious +tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message +bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am +qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. + +KING LEAR +How old art thou? + +KENT +Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor +so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years +on my back forty eight. + +KING LEAR +Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no +worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. +Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? +Go you, and call my fool hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +Enter OSWALD + +You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? + +OSWALD +So please you,-- + +Exit + +KING LEAR +What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. + +Exit a Knight + +Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep. + +Re-enter Knight + +How now! where's that mongrel? + +Knight +He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. + +KING LEAR +Why came not the slave back to me when I called him. + +Knight +Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would +not. + +KING LEAR +He would not! + +Knight +My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my +judgment, your highness is not entertained with that +ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a +great abatement of kindness appears as well in the +general dependants as in the duke himself also and +your daughter. + +KING LEAR +Ha! sayest thou so? + +Knight +I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; +for my duty cannot be silent when I think your +highness wronged. + +KING LEAR +Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I +have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I +have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity +than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: +I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I +have not seen him this two days. + +Knight +Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the +fool hath much pined away. + +KING LEAR +No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and +tell my daughter I would speak with her. + +Exit an Attendant + +Go you, call hither my fool. + +Exit an Attendant + +Re-enter OSWALD + +O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, +sir? + +OSWALD +My lady's father. + +KING LEAR +'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your +whoreson dog! you slave! you cur! + +OSWALD +I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon. + +KING LEAR +Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? + +Striking him + +OSWALD +I'll not be struck, my lord. + +KENT +Nor tripped neither, you base football player. + +Tripping up his heels + +KING LEAR +I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll +love thee. + +KENT +Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: +away, away! if you will measure your lubber's +length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you +wisdom? so. + +Pushes OSWALD out + +KING LEAR +Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's +earnest of thy service. + +Giving KENT money + +Enter Fool + +Fool +Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb. + +Offering KENT his cap + +KING LEAR +How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou? + +Fool +Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. + +KENT +Why, fool? + +Fool +Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour: +nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, +thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: +why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters, +and did the third a blessing against his will; if +thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. +How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters! + +KING LEAR +Why, my boy? + +Fool +If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs +myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters. + +KING LEAR +Take heed, sirrah; the whip. + +Fool +Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped +out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink. + +KING LEAR +A pestilent gall to me! + +Fool +Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. + +KING LEAR +Do. + +Fool +Mark it, nuncle: +Have more than thou showest, +Speak less than thou knowest, +Lend less than thou owest, +Ride more than thou goest, +Learn more than thou trowest, +Set less than thou throwest; +Leave thy drink and thy whore, +And keep in-a-door, +And thou shalt have more +Than two tens to a score. + +KENT +This is nothing, fool. + +Fool +Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you +gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of +nothing, nuncle? + +KING LEAR +Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing. + +Fool +[To KENT] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of +his land comes to: he will not believe a fool. + +KING LEAR +A bitter fool! + +Fool +Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a +bitter fool and a sweet fool? + +KING LEAR +No, lad; teach me. + +Fool +That lord that counsell'd thee +To give away thy land, +Come place him here by me, +Do thou for him stand: +The sweet and bitter fool +Will presently appear; +The one in motley here, +The other found out there. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou call me fool, boy? + +Fool +All thy other titles thou hast given away; that +thou wast born with. + +KENT +This is not altogether fool, my lord. + +Fool +No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if +I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: +and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool +to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg, +nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns. + +KING LEAR +What two crowns shall they be? + +Fool +Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat +up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou +clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away +both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er +the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, +when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak +like myself in this, let him be whipped that first +finds it so. + +Singing + +Fools had ne'er less wit in a year; +For wise men are grown foppish, +They know not how their wits to wear, +Their manners are so apish. + +KING LEAR +When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? + +Fool +I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy +daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them +the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches, + +Singing + +Then they for sudden joy did weep, +And I for sorrow sung, +That such a king should play bo-peep, +And go the fools among. +Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach +thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie. + +KING LEAR +An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. + +Fool +I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: +they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt +have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am +whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any +kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be +thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, +and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o' +the parings. + +Enter GONERIL + +KING LEAR +How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? +Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown. + +Fool +Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to +care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a +figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, +thou art nothing. + +To GONERIL + +Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face +bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, +He that keeps nor crust nor crum, +Weary of all, shall want some. + +Pointing to KING LEAR + +That's a shealed peascod. + +GONERIL +Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, +But other of your insolent retinue +Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth +In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir, +I had thought, by making this well known unto you, +To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful, +By what yourself too late have spoke and done. +That you protect this course, and put it on +By your allowance; which if you should, the fault +Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, +Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, +Might in their working do you that offence, +Which else were shame, that then necessity +Will call discreet proceeding. + +Fool +For, you trow, nuncle, +The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, +That it's had it head bit off by it young. +So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling. + +KING LEAR +Are you our daughter? + +GONERIL +Come, sir, +I would you would make use of that good wisdom, +Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away +These dispositions, that of late transform you +From what you rightly are. + +Fool +May not an ass know when the cart +draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee. + +KING LEAR +Doth any here know me? This is not Lear: +Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes? +Either his notion weakens, his discernings +Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so. +Who is it that can tell me who I am? + +Fool +Lear's shadow. + +KING LEAR +I would learn that; for, by the +marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, +I should be false persuaded I had daughters. + +Fool +Which they will make an obedient father. + +KING LEAR +Your name, fair gentlewoman? + +GONERIL +This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour +Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you +To understand my purposes aright: +As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. +Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; +Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold, +That this our court, infected with their manners, +Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust +Make it more like a tavern or a brothel +Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak +For instant remedy: be then desired +By her, that else will take the thing she begs, +A little to disquantity your train; +And the remainder, that shall still depend, +To be such men as may besort your age, +And know themselves and you. + +KING LEAR +Darkness and devils! +Saddle my horses; call my train together: +Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee. +Yet have I left a daughter. + +GONERIL +You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble +Make servants of their betters. + +Enter ALBANY + +KING LEAR +Woe, that too late repents,-- + +To ALBANY + +O, sir, are you come? +Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses. +Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, +More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child +Than the sea-monster! + +ALBANY +Pray, sir, be patient. + +KING LEAR +[To GONERIL] Detested kite! thou liest. +My train are men of choice and rarest parts, +That all particulars of duty know, +And in the most exact regard support +The worships of their name. O most small fault, +How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! +That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature +From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love, +And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! +Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, + +Striking his head + +And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people. + +ALBANY +My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant +Of what hath moved you. + +KING LEAR +It may be so, my lord. +Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! +Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend +To make this creature fruitful! +Into her womb convey sterility! +Dry up in her the organs of increase; +And from her derogate body never spring +A babe to honour her! If she must teem, +Create her child of spleen; that it may live, +And be a thwart disnatured torment to her! +Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; +With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; +Turn all her mother's pains and benefits +To laughter and contempt; that she may feel +How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is +To have a thankless child! Away, away! + +Exit + +ALBANY +Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? + +GONERIL +Never afflict yourself to know the cause; +But let his disposition have that scope +That dotage gives it. + +Re-enter KING LEAR + +KING LEAR +What, fifty of my followers at a clap! +Within a fortnight! + +ALBANY +What's the matter, sir? + +KING LEAR +I'll tell thee: + +To GONERIL + +Life and death! I am ashamed +That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; +That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, +Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! +The untented woundings of a father's curse +Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, +Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out, +And cast you, with the waters that you lose, +To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this? +Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter, +Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: +When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails +She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find +That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think +I have cast off for ever: thou shalt, +I warrant thee. + +Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants + +GONERIL +Do you mark that, my lord? + +ALBANY +I cannot be so partial, Goneril, +To the great love I bear you,-- + +GONERIL +Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho! + +To the Fool + +You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. + +Fool +Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool +with thee. +A fox, when one has caught her, +And such a daughter, +Should sure to the slaughter, +If my cap would buy a halter: +So the fool follows after. + +Exit + +GONERIL +This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights! +'Tis politic and safe to let him keep +At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream, +Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, +He may enguard his dotage with their powers, +And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say! + +ALBANY +Well, you may fear too far. + +GONERIL +Safer than trust too far: +Let me still take away the harms I fear, +Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. +What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister +If she sustain him and his hundred knights +When I have show'd the unfitness,-- + +Re-enter OSWALD + +How now, Oswald! +What, have you writ that letter to my sister? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +Take you some company, and away to horse: +Inform her full of my particular fear; +And thereto add such reasons of your own +As may compact it more. Get you gone; +And hasten your return. + +Exit OSWALD + +No, no, my lord, +This milky gentleness and course of yours +Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, +You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom +Than praised for harmful mildness. + +ALBANY +How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell: +Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. + +GONERIL +Nay, then-- + +ALBANY +Well, well; the event. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Court before the same. + +Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool +KING LEAR +Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. +Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you +know than comes from her demand out of the letter. +If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you. + +KENT +I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered +your letter. + +Exit + +Fool +If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in +danger of kibes? + +KING LEAR +Ay, boy. + +Fool +Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go +slip-shod. + +KING LEAR +Ha, ha, ha! + +Fool +Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; +for though she's as like this as a crab's like an +apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. + +KING LEAR +Why, what canst thou tell, my boy? + +Fool +She will taste as like this as a crab does to a +crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' +the middle on's face? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that +what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. + +KING LEAR +I did her wrong-- + +Fool +Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house. + +KING LEAR +Why? + +Fool +Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his +daughters, and leave his horns without a case. + +KING LEAR +I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my +horses ready? + +Fool +Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the +seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason. + +KING LEAR +Because they are not eight? + +Fool +Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool. + +KING LEAR +To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude! + +Fool +If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten +for being old before thy time. + +KING LEAR +How's that? + +Fool +Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst +been wise. + +KING LEAR +O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven +Keep me in temper: I would not be mad! + +Enter Gentleman + +How now! are the horses ready? + +Gentleman +Ready, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Come, boy. + +Fool +She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure, +Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. GLOUCESTER's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him +EDMUND +Save thee, Curan. + +CURAN +And you, sir. I have been with your father, and +given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan +his duchess will be here with him this night. + +EDMUND +How comes that? + +CURAN +Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; +I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but +ear-kissing arguments? + +EDMUND +Not I pray you, what are they? + +CURAN +Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the +Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? + +EDMUND +Not a word. + +CURAN +You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. + +Exit + +EDMUND +The duke be here to-night? The better! best! +This weaves itself perforce into my business. +My father hath set guard to take my brother; +And I have one thing, of a queasy question, +Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work! +Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say! + +Enter EDGAR + +My father watches: O sir, fly this place; +Intelligence is given where you are hid; +You have now the good advantage of the night: +Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? +He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste, +And Regan with him: have you nothing said +Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? +Advise yourself. + +EDGAR +I am sure on't, not a word. + +EDMUND +I hear my father coming: pardon me: +In cunning I must draw my sword upon you +Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. +Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! +Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell. + +Exit EDGAR + +Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion. + +Wounds his arm + +Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards +Do more than this in sport. Father, father! +Stop, stop! No help? + +Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches + +GLOUCESTER +Now, Edmund, where's the villain? + +EDMUND +Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, +Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon +To stand auspicious mistress,-- + +GLOUCESTER +But where is he? + +EDMUND +Look, sir, I bleed. + +GLOUCESTER +Where is the villain, Edmund? + +EDMUND +Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could-- + +GLOUCESTER +Pursue him, ho! Go after. + +Exeunt some Servants + +By no means what? + +EDMUND +Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; +But that I told him, the revenging gods +'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; +Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond +The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, +Seeing how loathly opposite I stood +To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, +With his prepared sword, he charges home +My unprovided body, lanced mine arm: +But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, +Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter, +Or whether gasted by the noise I made, +Full suddenly he fled. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him fly far: +Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; +And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master, +My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: +By his authority I will proclaim it, +That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, +Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; +He that conceals him, death. + +EDMUND +When I dissuaded him from his intent, +And found him pight to do it, with curst speech +I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, +'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, +If I would stand against thee, would the reposal +Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee +Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,-- +As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce +My very character,--I'ld turn it all +To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise: +And thou must make a dullard of the world, +If they not thought the profits of my death +Were very pregnant and potential spurs +To make thee seek it.' + +GLOUCESTER +Strong and fasten'd villain +Would he deny his letter? I never got him. + +Tucket within + +Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. +All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; +The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture +I will send far and near, that all the kingdom +May have the due note of him; and of my land, +Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means +To make thee capable. + +Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants + +CORNWALL +How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, +Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. + +REGAN +If it be true, all vengeance comes too short +Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd! + +REGAN +What, did my father's godson seek your life? +He whom my father named? your Edgar? + +GLOUCESTER +O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! + +REGAN +Was he not companion with the riotous knights +That tend upon my father? + +GLOUCESTER +I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad. + +EDMUND +Yes, madam, he was of that consort. + +REGAN +No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: +'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, +To have the expense and waste of his revenues. +I have this present evening from my sister +Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, +That if they come to sojourn at my house, +I'll not be there. + +CORNWALL +Nor I, assure thee, Regan. +Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father +A child-like office. + +EDMUND +'Twas my duty, sir. + +GLOUCESTER +He did bewray his practise; and received +This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. + +CORNWALL +Is he pursued? + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my good lord. + +CORNWALL +If he be taken, he shall never more +Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, +How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, +Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant +So much commend itself, you shall be ours: +Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; +You we first seize on. + +EDMUND +I shall serve you, sir, +Truly, however else. + +GLOUCESTER +For him I thank your grace. + +CORNWALL +You know not why we came to visit you,-- + +REGAN +Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night: +Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, +Wherein we must have use of your advice: +Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, +Of differences, which I least thought it fit +To answer from our home; the several messengers +From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, +Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow +Your needful counsel to our business, +Which craves the instant use. + +GLOUCESTER +I serve you, madam: +Your graces are right welcome. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before Gloucester's castle. + +Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally +OSWALD +Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? + +KENT +Ay. + +OSWALD +Where may we set our horses? + +KENT +I' the mire. + +OSWALD +Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. + +KENT +I love thee not. + +OSWALD +Why, then, I care not for thee. + +KENT +If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee +care for me. + +OSWALD +Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. + +KENT +Fellow, I know thee. + +OSWALD +What dost thou know me for? + +KENT +A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a +base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, +hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a +lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, +glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; +one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a +bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but +the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, +and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I +will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest +the least syllable of thy addition. + +The Tragedy of Macbeth +Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A desert place. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches +First Witch +When shall we three meet again +In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + +Second Witch +When the hurlyburly's done, +When the battle's lost and won. + +Third Witch +That will be ere the set of sun. + +First Witch +Where the place? + +Second Witch +Upon the heath. + +Third Witch +There to meet with Macbeth. + +First Witch +I come, Graymalkin! + +Second Witch +Paddock calls. + +Third Witch +Anon. + +ALL +Fair is foul, and foul is fair: +Hover through the fog and filthy air. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A camp near Forres. + +Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant +DUNCAN +What bloody man is that? He can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt +The newest state. + +MALCOLM +This is the sergeant +Who like a good and hardy soldier fought +'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! +Say to the king the knowledge of the broil +As thou didst leave it. + +Sergeant +Doubtful it stood; +As two spent swimmers, that do cling together +And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- +Worthy to be a rebel, for to that +The multiplying villanies of nature +Do swarm upon him--from the western isles +Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; +And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, +Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: +For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- +Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, +Which smoked with bloody execution, +Like valour's minion carved out his passage +Till he faced the slave; +Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, +Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, +And fix'd his head upon our battlements. + +DUNCAN +O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! + +Sergeant +As whence the sun 'gins his reflection +Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, +So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come +Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: +No sooner justice had with valour arm'd +Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, +But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, +With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men +Began a fresh assault. + +DUNCAN +Dismay'd not this +Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? + +Sergeant +Yes; +As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they +Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: +Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, +Or memorise another Golgotha, +I cannot tell. +But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. + +DUNCAN +So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; +They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. + +Exit Sergeant, attended + +Who comes here? + +Enter ROSS + +MALCOLM +The worthy thane of Ross. + +LENNOX +What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look +That seems to speak things strange. + +ROSS +God save the king! + +DUNCAN +Whence camest thou, worthy thane? + +ROSS +From Fife, great king; +Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky +And fan our people cold. Norway himself, +With terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyal traitor +The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; +Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, +Confronted him with self-comparisons, +Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. +Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, +The victory fell on us. + +DUNCAN +Great happiness! + +ROSS +That now +Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: +Nor would we deign him burial of his men +Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch +Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + +DUNCAN +No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive +Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, +And with his former title greet Macbeth. + +ROSS +I'll see it done. + +DUNCAN +What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A heath near Forres. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Where hast thou been, sister? + +Second Witch +Killing swine. + +Third Witch +Sister, where thou? + +First Witch +A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, +And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- +'Give me,' quoth I: +'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. +Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: +But in a sieve I'll thither sail, +And, like a rat without a tail, +I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + +Second Witch +I'll give thee a wind. + +First Witch +Thou'rt kind. + +Third Witch +And I another. + +First Witch +I myself have all the other, +And the very ports they blow, +All the quarters that they know +I' the shipman's card. +I will drain him dry as hay: +Sleep shall neither night nor day +Hang upon his pent-house lid; +He shall live a man forbid: +Weary se'nnights nine times nine +Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: +Though his bark cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be tempest-tost. +Look what I have. + +Second Witch +Show me, show me. + +First Witch +Here I have a pilot's thumb, +Wreck'd as homeward he did come. + +Drum within + +Third Witch +A drum, a drum! +Macbeth doth come. + +ALL +The weird sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the sea and land, +Thus do go about, about: +Thrice to thine and thrice to mine +And thrice again, to make up nine. +Peace! the charm's wound up. + +Enter MACBETH and BANQUO + +MACBETH +So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + +BANQUO +How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these +So wither'd and so wild in their attire, +That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, +And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught +That man may question? You seem to understand me, +By each at once her chappy finger laying +Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, +And yet your beards forbid me to interpret +That you are so. + +MACBETH +Speak, if you can: what are you? + +First Witch +All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! + +Second Witch +All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! + +Third Witch +All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! + +BANQUO +Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear +Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, +Are ye fantastical, or that indeed +Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner +You greet with present grace and great prediction +Of noble having and of royal hope, +That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. +If you can look into the seeds of time, +And say which grain will grow and which will not, +Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear +Your favours nor your hate. + +First Witch +Hail! + +Second Witch +Hail! + +Third Witch +Hail! + +First Witch +Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. + +Second Witch +Not so happy, yet much happier. + +Third Witch +Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: +So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + +First Witch +Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + +MACBETH +Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: +By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; +But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, +A prosperous gentleman; and to be king +Stands not within the prospect of belief, +No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange intelligence? or why +Upon this blasted heath you stop our way +With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. + +Witches vanish + +BANQUO +The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, +And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? + +MACBETH +Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted +As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! + +BANQUO +Were such things here as we do speak about? +Or have we eaten on the insane root +That takes the reason prisoner? + +MACBETH +Your children shall be kings. + +BANQUO +You shall be king. + +MACBETH +And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + +BANQUO +To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? + +Enter ROSS and ANGUS + +ROSS +The king hath happily received, Macbeth, +The news of thy success; and when he reads +Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, +His wonders and his praises do contend +Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, +In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, +He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, +Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, +Strange images of death. As thick as hail +Came post with post; and every one did bear +Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, +And pour'd them down before him. + +ANGUS +We are sent +To give thee from our royal master thanks; +Only to herald thee into his sight, +Not pay thee. + +ROSS +And, for an earnest of a greater honour, +He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: +In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! +For it is thine. + +BANQUO +What, can the devil speak true? + +MACBETH +The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me +In borrow'd robes? + +ANGUS +Who was the thane lives yet; +But under heavy judgment bears that life +Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined +With those of Norway, or did line the rebel +With hidden help and vantage, or that with both +He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; +But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, +Have overthrown him. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! +The greatest is behind. + +To ROSS and ANGUS + +Thanks for your pains. + +To BANQUO + +Do you not hope your children shall be kings, +When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me +Promised no less to them? + +BANQUO +That trusted home +Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, +Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: +And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, +The instruments of darkness tell us truths, +Win us with honest trifles, to betray's +In deepest consequence. +Cousins, a word, I pray you. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Two truths are told, +As happy prologues to the swelling act +Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. + +Aside + +Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, +Why hath it given me earnest of success, +Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: +If good, why do I yield to that suggestion +Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair +And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, +Against the use of nature? Present fears +Are less than horrible imaginings: +My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, +Shakes so my single state of man that function +Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is +But what is not. + +BANQUO +Look, how our partner's rapt. + +MACBETH +[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, +Without my stir. + +BANQUO +New horrors come upon him, +Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould +But with the aid of use. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Come what come may, +Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + +BANQUO +Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + +MACBETH +Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought +With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains +Are register'd where every day I turn +The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. +Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, +The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak +Our free hearts each to other. + +BANQUO +Very gladly. + +MACBETH +Till then, enough. Come, friends. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants +DUNCAN +Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not +Those in commission yet return'd? + +MALCOLM +My liege, +They are not yet come back. But I have spoke +With one that saw him die: who did report +That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, +Implored your highness' pardon and set forth +A deep repentance: nothing in his life +Became him like the leaving it; he died +As one that had been studied in his death +To throw away the dearest thing he owed, +As 'twere a careless trifle. + +DUNCAN +There's no art +To find the mind's construction in the face: +He was a gentleman on whom I built +An absolute trust. + +Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS + +O worthiest cousin! +The sin of my ingratitude even now +Was heavy on me: thou art so far before +That swiftest wing of recompense is slow +To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, +That the proportion both of thanks and payment +Might have been mine! only I have left to say, +More is thy due than more than all can pay. + +MACBETH +The service and the loyalty I owe, +In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part +Is to receive our duties; and our duties +Are to your throne and state children and servants, +Which do but what they should, by doing every thing +Safe toward your love and honour. + +DUNCAN +Welcome hither: +I have begun to plant thee, and will labour +To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, +That hast no less deserved, nor must be known +No less to have done so, let me enfold thee +And hold thee to my heart. + +BANQUO +There if I grow, +The harvest is your own. + +DUNCAN +My plenteous joys, +Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves +In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know +We will establish our estate upon +Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter +The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must +Not unaccompanied invest him only, +But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine +On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, +And bind us further to you. + +MACBETH +The rest is labour, which is not used for you: +I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful +The hearing of my wife with your approach; +So humbly take my leave. + +DUNCAN +My worthy Cawdor! + +MACBETH +[Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step +On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, +For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; +Let not light see my black and deep desires: +The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, +Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. + +Exit + +DUNCAN +True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, +And in his commendations I am fed; +It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, +Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: +It is a peerless kinsman. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. + +Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter +LADY MACBETH +'They met me in the day of success: and I have +learned by the perfectest report, they have more in +them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire +to question them further, they made themselves air, +into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in +the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who +all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, +before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred +me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that +shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver +thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou +mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being +ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it +to thy heart, and farewell.' +Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be +What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; +It is too full o' the milk of human kindness +To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; +Art not without ambition, but without +The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, +That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, +And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, +That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; +And that which rather thou dost fear to do +Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, +That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; +And chastise with the valour of my tongue +All that impedes thee from the golden round, +Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem +To have thee crown'd withal. + +Enter a Messenger + +What is your tidings? + +Messenger +The king comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Thou'rt mad to say it: +Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, +Would have inform'd for preparation. + +Messenger +So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: +One of my fellows had the speed of him, +Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Than would make up his message. + +LADY MACBETH +Give him tending; +He brings great news. + +Exit Messenger + +The raven himself is hoarse +That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan +Under my battlements. Come, you spirits +That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, +And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full +Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; +Stop up the access and passage to remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between +The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, +And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, +Wherever in your sightless substances +You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, +That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, +Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, +To cry 'Hold, hold!' + +Enter MACBETH + +Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! +Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! +Thy letters have transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feel now +The future in the instant. + +MACBETH +My dearest love, +Duncan comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +And when goes hence? + +MACBETH +To-morrow, as he purposes. + +LADY MACBETH +O, never +Shall sun that morrow see! +Your face, my thane, is as a book where men +May read strange matters. To beguile the time, +Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, +Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, +But be the serpent under't. He that's coming +Must be provided for: and you shall put +This night's great business into my dispatch; +Which shall to all our nights and days to come +Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. + +MACBETH +We will speak further. + +LADY MACBETH +Only look up clear; +To alter favour ever is to fear: +Leave all the rest to me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants +DUNCAN +This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air +Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself +Unto our gentle senses. + +BANQUO +This guest of summer, +The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, +By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath +Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, +Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird +Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: +Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, +The air is delicate. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +DUNCAN +See, see, our honour'd hostess! +The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you +How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, +And thank us for your trouble. + +LADY MACBETH +All our service +In every point twice done and then done double +Were poor and single business to contend +Against those honours deep and broad wherewith +Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, +And the late dignities heap'd up to them, +We rest your hermits. + +DUNCAN +Where's the thane of Cawdor? +We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose +To be his purveyor: but he rides well; +And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him +To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, +We are your guest to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Your servants ever +Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, +To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, +Still to return your own. + +DUNCAN +Give me your hand; +Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, +And shall continue our graces towards him. +By your leave, hostess. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH +MACBETH +If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well +It were done quickly: if the assassination +Could trammel up the consequence, and catch +With his surcease success; that but this blow +Might be the be-all and the end-all here, +But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, +We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases +We still have judgment here; that we but teach +Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return +To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice +Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice +To our own lips. He's here in double trust; +First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, +Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, +Who should against his murderer shut the door, +Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been +So clear in his great office, that his virtues +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against +The deep damnation of his taking-off; +And pity, like a naked new-born babe, +Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed +Upon the sightless couriers of the air, +Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, +That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur +To prick the sides of my intent, but only +Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself +And falls on the other. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +How now! what news? + +LADY MACBETH +He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + +MACBETH +Hath he ask'd for me? + +LADY MACBETH +Know you not he has? + +MACBETH +We will proceed no further in this business: +He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought +Golden opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, +Not cast aside so soon. + +LADY MACBETH +Was the hope drunk +Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? +And wakes it now, to look so green and pale +At what it did so freely? From this time +Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard +To be the same in thine own act and valour +As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that +Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, +And live a coward in thine own esteem, +Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' +Like the poor cat i' the adage? + +MACBETH +Prithee, peace: +I dare do all that may become a man; +Who dares do more is none. + +LADY MACBETH +What beast was't, then, +That made you break this enterprise to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man; +And, to be more than what you were, you would +Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place +Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: +They have made themselves, and that their fitness now +Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know +How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: +I would, while it was smiling in my face, +Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, +And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you +Have done to this. + +MACBETH +If we should fail? + +LADY MACBETH +We fail! +But screw your courage to the sticking-place, +And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-- +Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey +Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains +Will I with wine and wassail so convince +That memory, the warder of the brain, +Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason +A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep +Their drenched natures lie as in a death, +What cannot you and I perform upon +The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon +His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt +Of our great quell? + +MACBETH +Bring forth men-children only; +For thy undaunted mettle should compose +Nothing but males. Will it not be received, +When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two +Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, +That they have done't? + +LADY MACBETH +Who dares receive it other, +As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar +Upon his death? + +MACBETH +I am settled, and bend up +Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show: +False face must hide what the false heart doth know. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him +BANQUO +How goes the night, boy? + +FLEANCE +The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. + +BANQUO +And she goes down at twelve. + +FLEANCE +I take't, 'tis later, sir. + +BANQUO +Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; +Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. +A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, +And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, +Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature +Gives way to in repose! + +Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch + +Give me my sword. +Who's there? + +MACBETH +A friend. + +BANQUO +What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: +He hath been in unusual pleasure, and +Sent forth great largess to your offices. +This diamond he greets your wife withal, +By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up +In measureless content. + +MACBETH +Being unprepared, +Our will became the servant to defect; +Which else should free have wrought. + +BANQUO +All's well. +I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: +To you they have show'd some truth. + +MACBETH +I think not of them: +Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, +We would spend it in some words upon that business, +If you would grant the time. + +BANQUO +At your kind'st leisure. + +MACBETH +If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, +It shall make honour for you. + +BANQUO +So I lose none +In seeking to augment it, but still keep +My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, +I shall be counsell'd. + +MACBETH +Good repose the while! + +BANQUO +Thanks, sir: the like to you! + +Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE + +MACBETH +Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, +She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. + +Exit Servant + +Is this a dagger which I see before me, +The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. +I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible +To feeling as to sight? or art thou but +A dagger of the mind, a false creation, +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? +I see thee yet, in form as palpable +As this which now I draw. +Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; +And such an instrument I was to use. +Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, +Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, +And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, +Which was not so before. There's no such thing: +It is the bloody business which informs +Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld +Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse +The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates +Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, +Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, +Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. +With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design +Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, +Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear +Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: +Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. + +A bell rings + +I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. +Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell +That summons thee to heaven or to hell. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter LADY MACBETH +LADY MACBETH +That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; +What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. +Hark! Peace! +It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, +Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: +The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms +Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd +their possets, +That death and nature do contend about them, +Whether they live or die. + +MACBETH +[Within] Who's there? what, ho! + +LADY MACBETH +Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, +And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed +Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; +He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled +My father as he slept, I had done't. + +Enter MACBETH + +My husband! + +MACBETH +I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + +LADY MACBETH +I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. +Did not you speak? + +MACBETH +When? + +LADY MACBETH +Now. + +MACBETH +As I descended? + +LADY MACBETH +Ay. + +MACBETH +Hark! +Who lies i' the second chamber? + +LADY MACBETH +Donalbain. + +MACBETH +This is a sorry sight. + +Looking on his hands + +LADY MACBETH +A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + +MACBETH +There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried +'Murder!' +That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: +But they did say their prayers, and address'd them +Again to sleep. + +LADY MACBETH +There are two lodged together. + +MACBETH +One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; +As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. +Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' +When they did say 'God bless us!' + +LADY MACBETH +Consider it not so deeply. + +MACBETH +But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? +I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' +Stuck in my throat. + +LADY MACBETH +These deeds must not be thought +After these ways; so, it will make us mad. + +MACBETH +Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! +Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, +Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, +The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, +Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, +Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- + +LADY MACBETH +What do you mean? + +MACBETH +Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: +'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor +Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' + +LADY MACBETH +Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, +You do unbend your noble strength, to think +So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, +And wash this filthy witness from your hand. +Why did you bring these daggers from the place? +They must lie there: go carry them; and smear +The sleepy grooms with blood. + +MACBETH +I'll go no more: +I am afraid to think what I have done; +Look on't again I dare not. + +LADY MACBETH +Infirm of purpose! +Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead +Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood +That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, +I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; +For it must seem their guilt. + +Exit. Knocking within + +MACBETH +Whence is that knocking? +How is't with me, when every noise appals me? +What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes. +Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood +Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather +The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, +Making the green one red. + +Re-enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +My hands are of your colour; but I shame +To wear a heart so white. + +Knocking within + +I hear a knocking +At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; +A little water clears us of this deed: +How easy is it, then! Your constancy +Hath left you unattended. + +Knocking within + +Hark! more knocking. +Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, +And show us to be watchers. Be not lost +So poorly in your thoughts. + +MACBETH +To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. + +Knocking within + +Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. + +Knocking within. Enter a Porter +Porter +Here's a knocking indeed! If a +man were porter of hell-gate, he should have +old turning the key. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of +Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged +himself on the expectation of plenty: come in +time; have napkins enow about you; here +you'll sweat for't. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock! Who's there, in the other devil's +name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could +swear in both the scales against either scale; +who committed treason enough for God's sake, +yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come +in, equivocator. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an +English tailor come hither, for stealing out of +a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may +roast your goose. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock; never at quiet! What are you? But +this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter +it no further: I had thought to have let in +some of all professions that go the primrose +way to the everlasting bonfire. + +Knocking within + +Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. + +Opens the gate + +Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX + +MACDUFF +Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, +That you do lie so late? + +Porter +'Faith sir, we were carousing till the +second cock: and drink, sir, is a great +provoker of three things. + +MACDUFF +What three things does drink especially provoke? + +Porter +Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and +urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; +it provokes the desire, but it takes +away the performance: therefore, much drink +may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: +it makes him, and it mars him; it sets +him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, +and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and +not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him +in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. + +MACDUFF +I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. + +Porter +That it did, sir, i' the very throat on +me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I +think, being too strong for him, though he took +up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast +him. + +MACDUFF +Is thy master stirring? + +Enter MACBETH + +Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. + +LENNOX +Good morrow, noble sir. + +MACBETH +Good morrow, both. + +MACDUFF +Is the king stirring, worthy thane? + +MACBETH +Not yet. + +MACDUFF +He did command me to call timely on him: +I have almost slipp'd the hour. + +MACBETH +I'll bring you to him. + +MACDUFF +I know this is a joyful trouble to you; +But yet 'tis one. + +MACBETH +The labour we delight in physics pain. +This is the door. + +MACDUFF +I'll make so bold to call, +For 'tis my limited service. + +Exit + +LENNOX +Goes the king hence to-day? + +MACBETH +He does: he did appoint so. + +LENNOX +The night has been unruly: where we lay, +Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, +Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, +And prophesying with accents terrible +Of dire combustion and confused events +New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird +Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth +Was feverous and did shake. + +MACBETH +'Twas a rough night. + +LENNOX +My young remembrance cannot parallel +A fellow to it. + +Re-enter MACDUFF + +MACDUFF +O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart +Cannot conceive nor name thee! + +MACBETH LENNOX +What's the matter. + +MACDUFF +Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! +Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope +The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence +The life o' the building! + +MACBETH +What is 't you say? the life? + +LENNOX +Mean you his majesty? + +MACDUFF +Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; +See, and then speak yourselves. + +Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX + +Awake, awake! +Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! +Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! +Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, +And look on death itself! up, up, and see +The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! +As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, +To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. + +Bell rings + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +What's the business, +That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! + +MACDUFF +O gentle lady, +'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: +The repetition, in a woman's ear, +Would murder as it fell. + +Enter BANQUO + +O Banquo, Banquo, +Our royal master 's murder'd! + +LADY MACBETH +Woe, alas! +What, in our house? + +BANQUO +Too cruel any where. +Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, +And say it is not so. + +Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS + +MACBETH +Had I but died an hour before this chance, +I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, +There 's nothing serious in mortality: +All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; +The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees +Is left this vault to brag of. + +Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN + +DONALBAIN +What is amiss? + +MACBETH +You are, and do not know't: +The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood +Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. + +MACDUFF +Your royal father 's murder'd. + +MALCOLM +O, by whom? + +LENNOX +Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: +Their hands and faces were an badged with blood; +So were their daggers, which unwiped we found +Upon their pillows: +They stared, and were distracted; no man's life +Was to be trusted with them. + +MACBETH +O, yet I do repent me of my fury, +That I did kill them. + +MACDUFF +Wherefore did you so? + +MACBETH +Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, +Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: +The expedition my violent love +Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, +His silver skin laced with his golden blood; +And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature +For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, +Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers +Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, +That had a heart to love, and in that heart +Courage to make 's love kno wn? + +LADY MACBETH +Help me hence, ho! + +MACDUFF +Look to the lady. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues, +That most may claim this argument for ours? + +DONALBAIN +[Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here, +where our fate, +Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? +Let 's away; +Our tears are not yet brew'd. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow +Upon the foot of motion. + +BANQUO +Look to the lady: + +LADY MACBETH is carried out + +And when we have our naked frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure, let us meet, +And question this most bloody piece of work, +To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: +In the great hand of God I stand; and thence +Against the undivulged pretence I fight +Of treasonous malice. + +MACDUFF +And so do I. + +ALL +So all. + +MACBETH +Let's briefly put on manly readiness, +And meet i' the hall together. + +ALL +Well contented. + +Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. + +MALCOLM +What will you do? Let's not consort with them: +To show an unfelt sorrow is an office +Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. + +DONALBAIN +To Ireland, I; our separated fortune +Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, +There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, +The nearer bloody. + +MALCOLM +This murderous shaft that's shot +Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way +Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; +And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, +But shift away: there's warrant in that theft +Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. + +Enter ROSS and an old Man +Old Man +Threescore and ten I can remember well: +Within the volume of which time I have seen +Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night +Hath trifled former knowings. + +ROSS +Ah, good father, +Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, +Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, +And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: +Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, +That darkness does the face of earth entomb, +When living light should kiss it? + +Old Man +'Tis unnatural, +Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, +A falcon, towering in her pride of place, +Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. + +ROSS +And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- +Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, +Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, +Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make +War with mankind. + +Old Man +'Tis said they eat each other. + +ROSS +They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes +That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. + +Enter MACDUFF + +How goes the world, sir, now? + +MACDUFF +Why, see you not? + +ROSS +Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? + +MACDUFF +Those that Macbeth hath slain. + +ROSS +Alas, the day! +What good could they pretend? + +MACDUFF +They were suborn'd: +Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, +Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them +Suspicion of the deed. + +ROSS +'Gainst nature still! +Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up +Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like +The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + +MACDUFF +He is already named, and gone to Scone +To be invested. + +ROSS +Where is Duncan's body? + +MACDUFF +Carried to Colmekill, +The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, +And guardian of their bones. + +ROSS +Will you to Scone? + +MACDUFF +No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + +ROSS +Well, I will thither. + +MACDUFF +Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! +Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! + +ROSS +Farewell, father. + +Old Man +God's benison go with you; and with those +That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Forres. The palace. + +Enter BANQUO +BANQUO +Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, +As the weird women promised, and, I fear, +Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said +It should not stand in thy posterity, +But that myself should be the root and father +Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- +As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- +Why, by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my oracles as well, +And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. + +Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants + +MACBETH +Here's our chief guest. + +LADY MACBETH +If he had been forgotten, +It had been as a gap in our great feast, +And all-thing unbecoming. + +MACBETH +To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, +And I'll request your presence. + +BANQUO +Let your highness +Command upon me; to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tie +For ever knit. + +MACBETH +Ride you this afternoon? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +We should have else desired your good advice, +Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, +In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. +Is't far you ride? + +BANQUO +As far, my lord, as will fill up the time +'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the night +For a dark hour or twain. + +MACBETH +Fail not our feast. + +BANQUO +My lord, I will not. + +MACBETH +We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd +In England and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers +With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, +When therewithal we shall have cause of state +Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, +Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. + +MACBETH +I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; +And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. + +Exit BANQUO + +Let every man be master of his time +Till seven at night: to make society +The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself +Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant + +Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men +Our pleasure? + +ATTENDANT +They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + +MACBETH +Bring them before us. + +Exit Attendant + +To be thus is nothing; +But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo +Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature +Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; +And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, +He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour +To act in safety. There is none but he +Whose being I do fear: and, under him, +My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, +Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters +When first they put the name of king upon me, +And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like +They hail'd him father to a line of kings: +Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, +And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, +Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, +No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, +For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; +For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; +Put rancours in the vessel of my peace +Only for them; and mine eternal jewel +Given to the common enemy of man, +To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! +Rather than so, come fate into the list. +And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! + +Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers + +Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. + +Exit Attendant + +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + +First Murderer +It was, so please your highness. + +MACBETH +Well then, now +Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know +That it was he in the times past which held you +So under fortune, which you thought had been +Our innocent self: this I made good to you +In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, +How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, +the instruments, +Who wrought with them, and all things else that might +To half a soul and to a notion crazed +Say 'Thus did Banquo.' + +First Murderer +You made it known to us. + +MACBETH +I did so, and went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. Do you find +Your patience so predominant in your nature +That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd +To pray for this good man and for his issue, +Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave +And beggar'd yours for ever? + +First Murderer +We are men, my liege. + +MACBETH +Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; +As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, +Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept +All by the name of dogs: the valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The housekeeper, the hunter, every one +According to the gift which bounteous nature +Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive +Particular addition. from the bill +That writes them all alike: and so of men. +Now, if you have a station in the file, +Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; +And I will put that business in your bosoms, +Whose execution takes your enemy off, +Grapples you to the heart and love of us, +Who wear our health but sickly in his life, +Which in his death were perfect. + +Second Murderer +I am one, my liege, +Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world +Have so incensed that I am reckless what +I do to spite the world. + +First Murderer +And I another +So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, +That I would set my lie on any chance, +To mend it, or be rid on't. + +MACBETH +Both of you +Know Banquo was your enemy. + +Both Murderers +True, my lord. + +MACBETH +So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, +That every minute of his being thrusts +Against my near'st of life: and though I could +With barefaced power sweep him from my sight +And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, +For certain friends that are both his and mine, +Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall +Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, +That I to your assistance do make love, +Masking the business from the common eye +For sundry weighty reasons. + +Second Murderer +We shall, my lord, +Perform what you command us. + +First Murderer +Though our lives-- + +MACBETH +Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most +I will advise you where to plant yourselves; +Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, +The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, +And something from the palace; always thought +That I require a clearness: and with him-- +To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- +Fleance his son, that keeps him company, +Whose absence is no less material to me +Than is his father's, must embrace the fate +Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: +I'll come to you anon. + +Both Murderers +We are resolved, my lord. + +MACBETH +I'll call upon you straight: abide within. + +Exeunt Murderers + +It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, +If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant +LADY MACBETH +Is Banquo gone from court? + +Servant +Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Say to the king, I would attend his leisure +For a few words. + +Servant +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +LADY MACBETH +Nought's had, all's spent, +Where our desire is got without content: +'Tis safer to be that which we destroy +Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. + +Enter MACBETH + +How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, +Of sorriest fancies your companions making, +Using those thoughts which should indeed have died +With them they think on? Things without all remedy +Should be without regard: what's done is done. + +MACBETH +We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: +She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice +Remains in danger of her former tooth. +But let the frame of things disjoint, both the +worlds suffer, +Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep +In the affliction of these terrible dreams +That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, +Than on the torture of the mind to lie +In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; +After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; +Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, +Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, +Can touch him further. + +LADY MACBETH +Come on; +Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; +Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. + +MACBETH +So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: +Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; +Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: +Unsafe the while, that we +Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, +And make our faces vizards to our hearts, +Disguising what they are. + +LADY MACBETH +You must leave this. + +MACBETH +O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! +Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. + +LADY MACBETH +But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + +MACBETH +There's comfort yet; they are assailable; +Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown +His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons +The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums +Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done +A deed of dreadful note. + +LADY MACBETH +What's to be done? + +MACBETH +Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, +Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; +And with thy bloody and invisible hand +Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond +Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow +Makes wing to the rooky wood: +Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; +While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. +Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; +Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. +So, prithee, go with me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A park near the palace. + +Enter three Murderers +First Murderer +But who did bid thee join with us? + +Third Murderer +Macbeth. + +Second Murderer +He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers +Our offices and what we have to do +To the direction just. + +First Murderer +Then stand with us. +The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: +Now spurs the lated traveller apace +To gain the timely inn; and near approaches +The subject of our watch. + +Third Murderer +Hark! I hear horses. + +BANQUO +[Within] Give us a light there, ho! + +Second Murderer +Then 'tis he: the rest +That are within the note of expectation +Already are i' the court. + +First Murderer +His horses go about. + +Third Murderer +Almost a mile: but he does usually, +So all men do, from hence to the palace gate +Make it their walk. + +Second Murderer +A light, a light! + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch + +Third Murderer +'Tis he. + +First Murderer +Stand to't. + +BANQUO +It will be rain to-night. + +First Murderer +Let it come down. + +They set upon BANQUO + +BANQUO +O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! +Thou mayst revenge. O slave! + +Dies. FLEANCE escapes + +Third Murderer +Who did strike out the light? + +First Murderer +Wast not the way? + +Third Murderer +There's but one down; the son is fled. + +Second Murderer +We have lost +Best half of our affair. + +First Murderer +Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. + +A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants +MACBETH +You know your own degrees; sit down: at first +And last the hearty welcome. + +Lords +Thanks to your majesty. + +MACBETH +Ourself will mingle with society, +And play the humble host. +Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time +We will require her welcome. + +LADY MACBETH +Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; +For my heart speaks they are welcome. + +First Murderer appears at the door + +MACBETH +See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. +Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: +Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure +The table round. + +Approaching the door + +There's blood on thy face. + +First Murderer +'Tis Banquo's then. + +MACBETH +'Tis better thee without than he within. +Is he dispatch'd? + +First Murderer +My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. + +MACBETH +Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good +That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, +Thou art the nonpareil. + +First Murderer +Most royal sir, +Fleance is 'scaped. + +MACBETH +Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, +Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, +As broad and general as the casing air: +But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in +To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? + +First Murderer +Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head; +The least a death to nature. + +MACBETH +Thanks for that: +There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled +Hath nature that in time will venom breed, +No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow +We'll hear, ourselves, again. + +Exit Murderer + +LADY MACBETH +My royal lord, +You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold +That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, +'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; +From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; +Meeting were bare without it. + +MACBETH +Sweet remembrancer! +Now, good digestion wait on appetite, +And health on both! + +LENNOX +May't please your highness sit. + +The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place + +MACBETH +Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, +Were the graced person of our Banquo present; +Who may I rather challenge for unkindness +Than pity for mischance! + +ROSS +His absence, sir, +Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness +To grace us with your royal company. + +MACBETH +The table's full. + +LENNOX +Here is a place reserved, sir. + +MACBETH +Where? + +LENNOX +Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? + +MACBETH +Which of you have done this? + +Lords +What, my good lord? + +MACBETH +Thou canst not say I did it: never shake +Thy gory locks at me. + +ROSS +Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. + +LADY MACBETH +Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus, +And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; +The fit is momentary; upon a thought +He will again be well: if much you note him, +You shall offend him and extend his passion: +Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? + +MACBETH +Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that +Which might appal the devil. + +LADY MACBETH +O proper stuff! +This is the very painting of your fear: +This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, +Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, +Impostors to true fear, would well become +A woman's story at a winter's fire, +Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! +Why do you make such faces? When all's done, +You look but on a stool. + +MACBETH +Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! +how say you? +Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. +If charnel-houses and our graves must send +Those that we bury back, our monuments +Shall be the maws of kites. + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +LADY MACBETH +What, quite unmann'd in folly? + +MACBETH +If I stand here, I saw him. + +LADY MACBETH +Fie, for shame! + +MACBETH +Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, +Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; +Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd +Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, +That, when the brains were out, the man would die, +And there an end; but now they rise again, +With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, +And push us from our stools: this is more strange +Than such a murder is. + +LADY MACBETH +My worthy lord, +Your noble friends do lack you. + +MACBETH +I do forget. +Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends, +I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; +Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. +I drink to the general joy o' the whole table, +And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; +Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, +And all to all. + +Lords +Our duties, and the pledge. + +Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO + +MACBETH +Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! +Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with! + +LADY MACBETH +Think of this, good peers, +But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; +Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + +MACBETH +What man dare, I dare: +Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, +The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; +Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves +Shall never tremble: or be alive again, +And dare me to the desert with thy sword; +If trembling I inhabit then, protest me +The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! +Unreal mockery, hence! + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +Why, so: being gone, +I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. + +LADY MACBETH +You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, +With most admired disorder. + +MACBETH +Can such things be, +And overcome us like a summer's cloud, +Without our special wonder? You make me strange +Even to the disposition that I owe, +When now I think you can behold such sights, +And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, +When mine is blanched with fear. + +ROSS +What sights, my lord? + +LADY MACBETH +I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; +Question enrages him. At once, good night: +Stand not upon the order of your going, +But go at once. + +LENNOX +Good night; and better health +Attend his majesty! + +LADY MACBETH +A kind good night to all! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH + +MACBETH +It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: +Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; +Augurs and understood relations have +By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth +The secret'st man of blood. What is the night? + +LADY MACBETH +Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + +MACBETH +How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding? + +LADY MACBETH +Did you send to him, sir? + +MACBETH +I hear it by the way; but I will send: +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow, +And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: +More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, +By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, +All causes shall give way: I am in blood +Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go o'er: +Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; +Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. + +LADY MACBETH +You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + +MACBETH +Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse +Is the initiate fear that wants hard use: +We are yet but young in deed. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A Heath. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE +First Witch +Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. + +HECATE +Have I not reason, beldams as you are, +Saucy and overbold? How did you dare +To trade and traffic with Macbeth +In riddles and affairs of death; +And I, the mistress of your charms, +The close contriver of all harms, +Was never call'd to bear my part, +Or show the glory of our art? +And, which is worse, all you have done +Hath been but for a wayward son, +Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, +Loves for his own ends, not for you. +But make amends now: get you gone, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meet me i' the morning: thither he +Will come to know his destiny: +Your vessels and your spells provide, +Your charms and every thing beside. +I am for the air; this night I'll spend +Unto a dismal and a fatal end: +Great business must be wrought ere noon: +Upon the corner of the moon +There hangs a vaporous drop profound; +I'll catch it ere it come to ground: +And that distill'd by magic sleights +Shall raise such artificial sprites +As by the strength of their illusion +Shall draw him on to his confusion: +He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear +He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: +And you all know, security +Is mortals' chiefest enemy. + +Music and a song within: 'Come away, come away,' & c + +Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, +Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. + +Exit + +First Witch +Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Forres. The palace. + +Enter LENNOX and another Lord +LENNOX +My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, +Which can interpret further: only, I say, +Things have been strangely borne. The +gracious Duncan +Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: +And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; +Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, +For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. +Who cannot want the thought how monstrous +It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain +To kill their gracious father? damned fact! +How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight +In pious rage the two delinquents tear, +That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? +Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; +For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive +To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, +He has borne all things well: and I do think +That had he Duncan's sons under his key-- +As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they +should find +What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. +But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd +His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear +Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell +Where he bestows himself? + +Lord +The son of Duncan, +From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth +Lives in the English court, and is received +Of the most pious Edward with such grace +That the malevolence of fortune nothing +Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff +Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid +To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: +That, by the help of these--with Him above +To ratify the work--we may again +Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, +Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, +Do faithful homage and receive free honours: +All which we pine for now: and this report +Hath so exasperate the king that he +Prepares for some attempt of war. + +LENNOX +Sent he to Macduff? + +Lord +He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' +The cloudy messenger turns me his back, +And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time +That clogs me with this answer.' + +LENNOX +And that well might +Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance +His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel +Fly to the court of England and unfold +His message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soon return to this our suffering country +Under a hand accursed! + +Lord +I'll send my prayers with him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. + +Second Witch +Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. + +Third Witch +Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. + +First Witch +Round about the cauldron go; +In the poison'd entrails throw. +Toad, that under cold stone +Days and nights has thirty-one +Swelter'd venom sleeping got, +Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Fillet of a fenny snake, +In the cauldron boil and bake; +Eye of newt and toe of frog, +Wool of bat and tongue of dog, +Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, +Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, +For a charm of powerful trouble, +Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Third Witch +Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, +Witches' mummy, maw and gulf +Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, +Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, +Liver of blaspheming Jew, +Gall of goat, and slips of yew +Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, +Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, +Finger of birth-strangled babe +Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, +Make the gruel thick and slab: +Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, +For the ingredients of our cauldron. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Cool it with a baboon's blood, +Then the charm is firm and good. + +Enter HECATE to the other three Witches + +HECATE +O well done! I commend your pains; +And every one shall share i' the gains; +And now about the cauldron sing, +Live elves and fairies in a ring, +Enchanting all that you put in. + +Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c + +HECATE retires + +Second Witch +By the pricking of my thumbs, +Something wicked this way comes. +Open, locks, +Whoever knocks! + +Enter MACBETH + +MACBETH +How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! +What is't you do? + +ALL +A deed without a name. + +MACBETH +I conjure you, by that which you profess, +Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: +Though you untie the winds and let them fight +Against the churches; though the yesty waves +Confound and swallow navigation up; +Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; +Though castles topple on their warders' heads; +Though palaces and pyramids do slope +Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure +Of nature's germens tumble all together, +Even till destruction sicken; answer me +To what I ask you. + +First Witch +Speak. + +Second Witch +Demand. + +Third Witch +We'll answer. + +First Witch +Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, +Or from our masters? + +MACBETH +Call 'em; let me see 'em. + +First Witch +Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten +Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten +From the murderer's gibbet throw +Into the flame. + +ALL +Come, high or low; +Thyself and office deftly show! + +Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head + +MACBETH +Tell me, thou unknown power,-- + +First Witch +He knows thy thought: +Hear his speech, but say thou nought. + +First Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; +Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; +Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one +word more,-- + +First Witch +He will not be commanded: here's another, +More potent than the first. + +Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child + +Second Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! + +MACBETH +Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. + +Second Apparition +Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn +The power of man, for none of woman born +Shall harm Macbeth. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? +But yet I'll make assurance double sure, +And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; +That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, +And sleep in spite of thunder. + +Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand + +What is this +That rises like the issue of a king, +And wears upon his baby-brow the round +And top of sovereignty? + +ALL +Listen, but speak not to't. + +Third Apparition +Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care +Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: +Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until +Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill +Shall come against him. + +Descends + +MACBETH +That will never be +Who can impress the forest, bid the tree +Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! +Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood +Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth +Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath +To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart +Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art +Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever +Reign in this kingdom? + +ALL +Seek to know no more. + +MACBETH +I will be satisfied: deny me this, +And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. +Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? + +Hautboys + +First Witch +Show! + +Second Witch +Show! + +Third Witch +Show! + +ALL +Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; +Come like shadows, so depart! + +A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following + +MACBETH +Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down! +Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, +Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. +A third is like the former. Filthy hags! +Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! +What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? +Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: +And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass +Which shows me many more; and some I see +That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry: +Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; +For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, +And points at them for his. + +Apparitions vanish + +What, is this so? + +First Witch +Ay, sir, all this is so: but why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, +And show the best of our delights: +I'll charm the air to give a sound, +While you perform your antic round: +That this great king may kindly say, +Our duties did his welcome pay. + +Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE + +MACBETH +Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour +Stand aye accursed in the calendar! +Come in, without there! + +Enter LENNOX + +LENNOX +What's your grace's will? + +MACBETH +Saw you the weird sisters? + +LENNOX +No, my lord. + +MACBETH +Came they not by you? + +LENNOX +No, indeed, my lord. + +MACBETH +Infected be the air whereon they ride; +And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear +The galloping of horse: who was't came by? + +LENNOX +'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word +Macduff is fled to England. + +MACBETH +Fled to England! + +LENNOX +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: +The flighty purpose never is o'ertook +Unless the deed go with it; from this moment +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And even now, +To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: +The castle of Macduff I will surprise; +Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword +His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls +That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; +This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. +But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? +Come, bring me where they are. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. + +Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS +LADY MACDUFF +What had he done, to make him fly the land? + +ROSS +You must have patience, madam. + +LADY MACDUFF +He had none: +His flight was madness: when our actions do not, +Our fears do make us traitors. + +ROSS +You know not +Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. + +LADY MACDUFF +Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, +His mansion and his titles in a place +From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; +He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren, +The most diminutive of birds, will fight, +Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. +All is the fear and nothing is the love; +As little is the wisdom, where the flight +So runs against all reason. + +ROSS +My dearest coz, +I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, +He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows +The fits o' the season. I dare not speak +much further; +But cruel are the times, when we are traitors +And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour +From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, +But float upon a wild and violent sea +Each way and move. I take my leave of you: +Shall not be long but I'll be here again: +Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward +To what they were before. My pretty cousin, +Blessing upon you! + +LADY MACDUFF +Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. + +ROSS +I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, +It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: +I take my leave at once. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Sirrah, your father's dead; +And what will you do now? How will you live? + +Son +As birds do, mother. + +LADY MACDUFF +What, with worms and flies? + +Son +With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, +The pitfall nor the gin. + +Son +Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. +My father is not dead, for all your saying. + +LADY MACDUFF +Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +Nay, how will you do for a husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + +Son +Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + +LADY MACDUFF +Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith, +With wit enough for thee. + +Son +Was my father a traitor, mother? + +LADY MACDUFF +Ay, that he was. + +Son +What is a traitor? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, one that swears and lies. + +Son +And be all traitors that do so? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. + +Son +And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one. + +Son +Who must hang them? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, the honest men. + +Son +Then the liars and swearers are fools, +for there are liars and swearers enow to beat +the honest men and hang up them. + +LADY MACDUFF +Now, God help thee, poor monkey! +But how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +If he were dead, you'ld weep for +him: if you would not, it were a good sign +that I should quickly have a new father. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, +Though in your state of honour I am perfect. +I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: +If you will take a homely man's advice, +Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. +To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; +To do worse to you were fell cruelty, +Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! +I dare abide no longer. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Whither should I fly? +I have done no harm. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world; where to do harm +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas, +Do I put up that womanly defence, +To say I have done no harm? + +Enter Murderers + +What are these faces? + +First Murderer +Where is your husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +I hope, in no place so unsanctified +Where such as thou mayst find him. + +First Murderer +He's a traitor. + +Son +Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! + +First Murderer +What, you egg! + +Stabbing him + +Young fry of treachery! + +Son +He has kill'd me, mother: +Run away, I pray you! + +Dies + +Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her + +SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace. + +Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF +MALCOLM +Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there +Weep our sad bosoms empty. + +MACDUFF +Let us rather +Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men +Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn +New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows +Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out +Like syllable of dolour. + +MALCOLM +What I believe I'll wail, +What know believe, and what I can redress, +As I shall find the time to friend, I will. +What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. +This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest: you have loved him well. +He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; +but something +You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom +To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb +To appease an angry god. + +MACDUFF +I am not treacherous. + +MALCOLM +But Macbeth is. +A good and virtuous nature may recoil +In an imperial charge. But I shall crave +your pardon; +That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose: +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; +Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, +Yet grace must still look so. + +MACDUFF +I have lost my hopes. + +MALCOLM +Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. +Why in that rawness left you wife and child, +Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, +Without leave-taking? I pray you, +Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, +But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, +Whatever I shall think. + +MACDUFF +Bleed, bleed, poor country! +Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou +thy wrongs; +The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord: +I would not be the villain that thou think'st +For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, +And the rich East to boot. + +MALCOLM +Be not offended: +I speak not as in absolute fear of you. +I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; +It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds: I think withal +There would be hands uplifted in my right; +And here from gracious England have I offer +Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, +When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, +Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country +Shall have more vices than it had before, +More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, +By him that shall succeed. + +MACDUFF +What should he be? + +MALCOLM +It is myself I mean: in whom I know +All the particulars of vice so grafted +That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth +Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state +Esteem him as a lamb, being compared +With my confineless harms. + +MACDUFF +Not in the legions +Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd +In evils to top Macbeth. + +MALCOLM +I grant him bloody, +Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, +Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin +That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, +In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, +Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up +The cistern of my lust, and my desire +All continent impediments would o'erbear +That did oppose my will: better Macbeth +Than such an one to reign. + +MACDUFF +Boundless intemperance +In nature is a tyranny; it hath been +The untimely emptying of the happy throne +And fall of many kings. But fear not yet +To take upon you what is yours: you may +Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, +And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. +We have willing dames enough: there cannot be +That vulture in you, to devour so many +As will to greatness dedicate themselves, +Finding it so inclined. + +MALCOLM +With this there grows +In my most ill-composed affection such +A stanchless avarice that, were I king, +I should cut off the nobles for their lands, +Desire his jewels and this other's house: +And my more-having would be as a sauce +To make me hunger more; that I should forge +Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, +Destroying them for wealth. + +Othello, the Moore of Venice +Shakespeare homepage | Othello | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Venice. A street. + +Enter RODERIGO and IAGO +RODERIGO +Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly +That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse +As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. + +IAGO +'Sblood, but you will not hear me: +If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. + +RODERIGO +Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. + +IAGO +Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, +In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, +Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, +I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: +But he; as loving his own pride and purposes, +Evades them, with a bombast circumstance +Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; +And, in conclusion, +Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he, +'I have already chose my officer.' +And what was he? +Forsooth, a great arithmetician, +One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, +A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; +That never set a squadron in the field, +Nor the division of a battle knows +More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, +Wherein the toged consuls can propose +As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, +Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: +And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof +At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds +Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd +By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, +He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, +And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient. + +RODERIGO +By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. + +IAGO +Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, +Preferment goes by letter and affection, +And not by old gradation, where each second +Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, +Whether I in any just term am affined +To love the Moor. + +RODERIGO +I would not follow him then. + +IAGO +O, sir, content you; +I follow him to serve my turn upon him: +We cannot all be masters, nor all masters +Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark +Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, +That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, +Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, +For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd: +Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are +Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, +Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, +And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, +Do well thrive by them and when they have lined +their coats +Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; +And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, +It is as sure as you are Roderigo, +Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: +In following him, I follow but myself; +Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, +But seeming so, for my peculiar end: +For when my outward action doth demonstrate +The native act and figure of my heart +In compliment extern, 'tis not long after +But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve +For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. + +RODERIGO +What a full fortune does the thicklips owe +If he can carry't thus! + +IAGO +Call up her father, +Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, +Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, +And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, +Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, +Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, +As it may lose some colour. + +RODERIGO +Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. + +IAGO +Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell +As when, by night and negligence, the fire +Is spied in populous cities. + +RODERIGO +What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! + +IAGO +Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! +Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! +Thieves! thieves! + +BRABANTIO appears above, at a window + +BRABANTIO +What is the reason of this terrible summons? +What is the matter there? + +RODERIGO +Signior, is all your family within? + +IAGO +Are your doors lock'd? + +BRABANTIO +Why, wherefore ask you this? + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on +your gown; +Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; +Even now, now, very now, an old black ram +Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise; +Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, +Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: +Arise, I say. + +BRABANTIO +What, have you lost your wits? + +RODERIGO +Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? + +BRABANTIO +Not I what are you? + +RODERIGO +My name is Roderigo. + +BRABANTIO +The worser welcome: +I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: +In honest plainness thou hast heard me say +My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, +Being full of supper and distempering draughts, +Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come +To start my quiet. + +RODERIGO +Sir, sir, sir,-- + +BRABANTIO +But thou must needs be sure +My spirit and my place have in them power +To make this bitter to thee. + +RODERIGO +Patience, good sir. + +BRABANTIO +What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; +My house is not a grange. + +RODERIGO +Most grave Brabantio, +In simple and pure soul I come to you. + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not +serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to +do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll +have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; +you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have +coursers for cousins and gennets for germans. + +BRABANTIO +What profane wretch art thou? + +IAGO +I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter +and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. + +BRABANTIO +Thou art a villain. + +IAGO +You are--a senator. + +BRABANTIO +This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. + +RODERIGO +Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you, +If't be your pleasure and most wise consent, +As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, +At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, +Transported, with no worse nor better guard +But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, +To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor-- +If this be known to you and your allowance, +We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; +But if you know not this, my manners tell me +We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe +That, from the sense of all civility, +I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: +Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, +I say again, hath made a gross revolt; +Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes +In an extravagant and wheeling stranger +Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself: +If she be in her chamber or your house, +Let loose on me the justice of the state +For thus deluding you. + +BRABANTIO +Strike on the tinder, ho! +Give me a taper! call up all my people! +This accident is not unlike my dream: +Belief of it oppresses me already. +Light, I say! light! + +Exit above + +IAGO +Farewell; for I must leave you: +It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, +To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall-- +Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state, +However this may gall him with some cheque, +Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd +With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, +Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, +Another of his fathom they have none, +To lead their business: in which regard, +Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains. +Yet, for necessity of present life, +I must show out a flag and sign of love, +Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him, +Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; +And there will I be with him. So, farewell. + +Exit + +Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches + +BRABANTIO +It is too true an evil: gone she is; +And what's to come of my despised time +Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, +Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl! +With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father! +How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me +Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers: +Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you? + +RODERIGO +Truly, I think they are. + +BRABANTIO +O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! +Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds +By what you see them act. Is there not charms +By which the property of youth and maidhood +May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, +Of some such thing? + +RODERIGO +Yes, sir, I have indeed. + +BRABANTIO +Call up my brother. O, would you had had her! +Some one way, some another. Do you know +Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? + +RODERIGO +I think I can discover him, if you please, +To get good guard and go along with me. + +BRABANTIO +Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call; +I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! +And raise some special officers of night. +On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another street. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches +IAGO +Though in the trade of war I have slain men, +Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience +To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity +Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times +I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. + +OTHELLO +'Tis better as it is. + +IAGO +Nay, but he prated, +And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms +Against your honour +That, with the little godliness I have, +I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir, +Are you fast married? Be assured of this, +That the magnifico is much beloved, +And hath in his effect a voice potential +As double as the duke's: he will divorce you; +Or put upon you what restraint and grievance +The law, with all his might to enforce it on, +Will give him cable. + +OTHELLO +Let him do his spite: +My services which I have done the signiory +Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,-- +Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, +I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being +From men of royal siege, and my demerits +May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune +As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago, +But that I love the gentle Desdemona, +I would not my unhoused free condition +Put into circumscription and confine +For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond? + +IAGO +Those are the raised father and his friends: +You were best go in. + +OTHELLO +Not I I must be found: +My parts, my title and my perfect soul +Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? + +IAGO +By Janus, I think no. + +Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches + +OTHELLO +The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. +The goodness of the night upon you, friends! +What is the news? + +CASSIO +The duke does greet you, general, +And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, +Even on the instant. + +OTHELLO +What is the matter, think you? + +CASSIO +Something from Cyprus as I may divine: +It is a business of some heat: the galleys +Have sent a dozen sequent messengers +This very night at one another's heels, +And many of the consuls, raised and met, +Are at the duke's already: you have been +hotly call'd for; +When, being not at your lodging to be found, +The senate hath sent about three several guests +To search you out. + +OTHELLO +'Tis well I am found by you. +I will but spend a word here in the house, +And go with you. + +Exit + +CASSIO +Ancient, what makes he here? + +IAGO +'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack: +If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. + +CASSIO +I do not understand. + +IAGO +He's married. + +CASSIO +To who? + +Re-enter OTHELLO + +IAGO +Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go? + +OTHELLO +Have with you. + +CASSIO +Here comes another troop to seek for you. + +IAGO +It is Brabantio. General, be advised; +He comes to bad intent. + +Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons + +OTHELLO +Holla! stand there! + +RODERIGO +Signior, it is the Moor. + +BRABANTIO +Down with him, thief! + +They draw on both sides + +IAGO +You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you. + +OTHELLO +Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. +Good signior, you shall more command with years +Than with your weapons. + +BRABANTIO +O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter? +Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her; +For I'll refer me to all things of sense, +If she in chains of magic were not bound, +Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, +So opposite to marriage that she shunned +The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, +Would ever have, to incur a general mock, +Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom +Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight. +Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense +That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, +Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals +That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on; +'Tis probable and palpable to thinking. +I therefore apprehend and do attach thee +For an abuser of the world, a practiser +Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. +Lay hold upon him: if he do resist, +Subdue him at his peril. + +OTHELLO +Hold your hands, +Both you of my inclining, and the rest: +Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it +Without a prompter. Where will you that I go +To answer this your charge? + +BRABANTIO +To prison, till fit time +Of law and course of direct session +Call thee to answer. + +OTHELLO +What if I do obey? +How may the duke be therewith satisfied, +Whose messengers are here about my side, +Upon some present business of the state +To bring me to him? + +First Officer +'Tis true, most worthy signior; +The duke's in council and your noble self, +I am sure, is sent for. + +BRABANTIO +How! the duke in council! +In this time of the night! Bring him away: +Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself, +Or any of my brothers of the state, +Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own; +For if such actions may have passage free, +Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A council-chamber. + +The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending +DUKE OF VENICE +There is no composition in these news +That gives them credit. + +First Senator +Indeed, they are disproportion'd; +My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. + +DUKE OF VENICE +And mine, a hundred and forty. + +Second Senator +And mine, two hundred: +But though they jump not on a just account,-- +As in these cases, where the aim reports, +'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm +A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, it is possible enough to judgment: +I do not so secure me in the error, +But the main article I do approve +In fearful sense. + +Sailor +[Within] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho! + +First Officer +A messenger from the galleys. + +Enter a Sailor + +DUKE OF VENICE +Now, what's the business? + +Sailor +The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; +So was I bid report here to the state +By Signior Angelo. + +DUKE OF VENICE +How say you by this change? + +First Senator +This cannot be, +By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant, +To keep us in false gaze. When we consider +The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, +And let ourselves again but understand, +That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, +So may he with more facile question bear it, +For that it stands not in such warlike brace, +But altogether lacks the abilities +That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this, +We must not think the Turk is so unskilful +To leave that latest which concerns him first, +Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, +To wake and wage a danger profitless. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. + +First Officer +Here is more news. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, +Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes, +Have there injointed them with an after fleet. + +First Senator +Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? + +Messenger +Of thirty sail: and now they do restem +Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance +Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, +Your trusty and most valiant servitor, +With his free duty recommends you thus, +And prays you to believe him. + +DUKE OF VENICE +'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus. +Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? + +First Senator +He's now in Florence. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch. + +First Senator +Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. + +Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers + +DUKE OF VENICE +Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you +Against the general enemy Ottoman. + +To BRABANTIO + +I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; +We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight. + +BRABANTIO +So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; +Neither my place nor aught I heard of business +Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care +Take hold on me, for my particular grief +Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature +That it engluts and swallows other sorrows +And it is still itself. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Why, what's the matter? + +BRABANTIO +My daughter! O, my daughter! + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +Dead? + +BRABANTIO +Ay, to me; +She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted +By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; +For nature so preposterously to err, +Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, +Sans witchcraft could not. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding +Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself +And you of her, the bloody book of law +You shall yourself read in the bitter letter +After your own sense, yea, though our proper son +Stood in your action. + +BRABANTIO +Humbly I thank your grace. +Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, +Your special mandate for the state-affairs +Hath hither brought. + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +We are very sorry for't. + +DUKE OF VENICE +[To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this? + +BRABANTIO +Nothing, but this is so. + +OTHELLO +Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, +My very noble and approved good masters, +That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, +It is most true; true, I have married her: +The very head and front of my offending +Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, +And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace: +For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, +Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used +Their dearest action in the tented field, +And little of this great world can I speak, +More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, +And therefore little shall I grace my cause +In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, +I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver +Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, +What conjuration and what mighty magic, +For such proceeding I am charged withal, +I won his daughter. + +BRABANTIO +A maiden never bold; +Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion +Blush'd at herself; and she, in spite of nature, +Of years, of country, credit, every thing, +To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on! +It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect +That will confess perfection so could err +Against all rules of nature, and must be driven +To find out practises of cunning hell, +Why this should be. I therefore vouch again +That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, +Or with some dram conjured to this effect, +He wrought upon her. + +DUKE OF VENICE +To vouch this, is no proof, +Without more wider and more overt test +Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods +Of modern seeming do prefer against him. + +First Senator +But, Othello, speak: +Did you by indirect and forced courses +Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? +Or came it by request and such fair question +As soul to soul affordeth? + +OTHELLO +I do beseech you, +Send for the lady to the Sagittary, +And let her speak of me before her father: +If you do find me foul in her report, +The trust, the office I do hold of you, +Not only take away, but let your sentence +Even fall upon my life. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Fetch Desdemona hither. + +OTHELLO +Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. + +Exeunt IAGO and Attendants + +And, till she come, as truly as to heaven +I do confess the vices of my blood, +So justly to your grave ears I'll present +How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, +And she in mine. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Say it, Othello. + +OTHELLO +Her father loved me; oft invited me; +Still question'd me the story of my life, +From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, +That I have passed. +I ran it through, even from my boyish days, +To the very moment that he bade me tell it; +Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, +Of moving accidents by flood and field +Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, +Of being taken by the insolent foe +And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence +And portance in my travels' history: +Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, +Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven +It was my hint to speak,--such was the process; +And of the Cannibals that each other eat, +The Anthropophagi and men whose heads +Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear +Would Desdemona seriously incline: +But still the house-affairs would draw her thence: +Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, +She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear +Devour up my discourse: which I observing, +Took once a pliant hour, and found good means +To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart +That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, +Whereof by parcels she had something heard, +But not intentively: I did consent, +And often did beguile her of her tears, +When I did speak of some distressful stroke +That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, +She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: +She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange, +'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: +She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd +That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, +And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, +I should but teach him how to tell my story. +And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: +She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, +And I loved her that she did pity them. +This only is the witchcraft I have used: +Here comes the lady; let her witness it. + +Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants + +DUKE OF VENICE +I think this tale would win my daughter too. +Good Brabantio, +Take up this mangled matter at the best: +Men do their broken weapons rather use +Than their bare hands. + +BRABANTIO +I pray you, hear her speak: +If she confess that she was half the wooer, +Destruction on my head, if my bad blame +Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress: +Do you perceive in all this noble company +Where most you owe obedience? + +DESDEMONA +My noble father, +I do perceive here a divided duty: +To you I am bound for life and education; +My life and education both do learn me +How to respect you; you are the lord of duty; +I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband, +And so much duty as my mother show'd +To you, preferring you before her father, +So much I challenge that I may profess +Due to the Moor my lord. + +BRABANTIO +God be wi' you! I have done. +Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: +I had rather to adopt a child than get it. +Come hither, Moor: +I here do give thee that with all my heart +Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart +I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, +I am glad at soul I have no other child: +For thy escape would teach me tyranny, +To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence, +Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers +Into your favour. +When remedies are past, the griefs are ended +By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. +To mourn a mischief that is past and gone +Is the next way to draw new mischief on. +What cannot be preserved when fortune takes +Patience her injury a mockery makes. +The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief; +He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. + +BRABANTIO +So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile; +We lose it not, so long as we can smile. +He bears the sentence well that nothing bears +But the free comfort which from thence he hears, +But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow +That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. +These sentences, to sugar, or to gall, +Being strong on both sides, are equivocal: +But words are words; I never yet did hear +That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. +I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state. + +DUKE OF VENICE +The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for +Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best +known to you; and though we have there a substitute +of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a +sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer +voice on you: you must therefore be content to +slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this +more stubborn and boisterous expedition. + +OTHELLO +The tyrant custom, most grave senators, +Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war +My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise +A natural and prompt alacrity +I find in hardness, and do undertake +These present wars against the Ottomites. +Most humbly therefore bending to your state, +I crave fit disposition for my wife. +Due reference of place and exhibition, +With such accommodation and besort +As levels with her breeding. + +DUKE OF VENICE +If you please, +Be't at her father's. + +BRABANTIO +I'll not have it so. + +OTHELLO +Nor I. + +DESDEMONA +Nor I; I would not there reside, +To put my father in impatient thoughts +By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, +To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear; +And let me find a charter in your voice, +To assist my simpleness. + +DUKE OF VENICE +What would You, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA +That I did love the Moor to live with him, +My downright violence and storm of fortunes +May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued +Even to the very quality of my lord: +I saw Othello's visage in his mind, +And to his honour and his valiant parts +Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. +So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, +A moth of peace, and he go to the war, +The rites for which I love him are bereft me, +And I a heavy interim shall support +By his dear absence. Let me go with him. + +OTHELLO +Let her have your voices. +Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, +To please the palate of my appetite, +Nor to comply with heat--the young affects +In me defunct--and proper satisfaction. +But to be free and bounteous to her mind: +And heaven defend your good souls, that you think +I will your serious and great business scant +For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys +Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness +My speculative and officed instruments, +That my disports corrupt and taint my business, +Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, +And all indign and base adversities +Make head against my estimation! + +DUKE OF VENICE +Be it as you shall privately determine, +Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste, +And speed must answer it. + +First Senator +You must away to-night. + +OTHELLO +With all my heart. + +DUKE OF VENICE +At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again. +Othello, leave some officer behind, +And he shall our commission bring to you; +With such things else of quality and respect +As doth import you. + +OTHELLO +So please your grace, my ancient; +A man he is of honest and trust: +To his conveyance I assign my wife, +With what else needful your good grace shall think +To be sent after me. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let it be so. +Good night to every one. + +To BRABANTIO + +And, noble signior, +If virtue no delighted beauty lack, +Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. + +First Senator +Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well. + +BRABANTIO +Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: +She has deceived her father, and may thee. + +Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, & c + +OTHELLO +My life upon her faith! Honest Iago, +My Desdemona must I leave to thee: +I prithee, let thy wife attend on her: +And bring them after in the best advantage. +Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour +Of love, of worldly matters and direction, +To spend with thee: we must obey the time. + +Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA + +RODERIGO +Iago,-- + +IAGO +What say'st thou, noble heart? + +RODERIGO +What will I do, thinkest thou? + +IAGO +Why, go to bed, and sleep. + +RODERIGO +I will incontinently drown myself. + +IAGO +If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, +thou silly gentleman! + +RODERIGO +It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and +then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician. + +IAGO +O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four +times seven years; and since I could distinguish +betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man +that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I +would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I +would change my humanity with a baboon. + +RODERIGO +What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so +fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it. + +IAGO +Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus +or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which +our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant +nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up +thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or +distract it with many, either to have it sterile +with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the +power and corrigible authority of this lies in our +wills. If the balance of our lives had not one +scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the +blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us +to most preposterous conclusions: but we have +reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal +stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that +you call love to be a sect or scion. + +RODERIGO +It cannot be. + +IAGO +It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of +the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown +cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy +friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with +cables of perdurable toughness; I could never +better stead thee than now. Put money in thy +purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with +an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It +cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her +love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he +his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou +shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but +money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in +their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food +that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be +to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must +change for youth: when she is sated with his body, +she will find the error of her choice: she must +have change, she must: therefore put money in thy +purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a +more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money +thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt +an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not +too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou +shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of +drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek +thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than +to be drowned and go without her. + +RODERIGO +Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on +the issue? + +IAGO +Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told +thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I +hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no +less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge +against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost +thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many +events in the womb of time which will be delivered. +Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more +of this to-morrow. Adieu. + +RODERIGO +Where shall we meet i' the morning? + +IAGO +At my lodging. + +RODERIGO +I'll be with thee betimes. + +IAGO +Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO +What say you? + +IAGO +No more of drowning, do you hear? + +RODERIGO +I am changed: I'll go sell all my land. + +Exit + +IAGO +Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: +For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, +If I would time expend with such a snipe. +But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor: +And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets +He has done my office: I know not if't be true; +But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, +Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; +The better shall my purpose work on him. +Cassio's a proper man: let me see now: +To get his place and to plume up my will +In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:-- +After some time, to abuse Othello's ear +That he is too familiar with his wife. +He hath a person and a smooth dispose +To be suspected, framed to make women false. +The Moor is of a free and open nature, +That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, +And will as tenderly be led by the nose +As asses are. +I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night +Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay. + +Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen +MONTANO +What from the cape can you discern at sea? + +First Gentleman +Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood; +I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, +Descry a sail. + +MONTANO +Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; +A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: +If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, +What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, +Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? + +Second Gentleman +A segregation of the Turkish fleet: +For do but stand upon the foaming shore, +The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; +The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane, +seems to cast water on the burning bear, +And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: +I never did like molestation view +On the enchafed flood. + +MONTANO +If that the Turkish fleet +Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd: +It is impossible they bear it out. + +Enter a third Gentleman + +Third Gentleman +News, lads! our wars are done. +The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, +That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice +Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance +On most part of their fleet. + +MONTANO +How! is this true? + +Third Gentleman +The ship is here put in, +A Veronesa; Michael Cassio, +Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, +Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea, +And is in full commission here for Cyprus. + +MONTANO +I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. + +Third Gentleman +But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort +Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly, +And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted +With foul and violent tempest. + +MONTANO +Pray heavens he be; +For I have served him, and the man commands +Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! +As well to see the vessel that's come in +As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, +Even till we make the main and the aerial blue +An indistinct regard. + +Third Gentleman +Come, let's do so: +For every minute is expectancy +Of more arrivance. + +Enter CASSIO + +CASSIO +Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, +That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens +Give him defence against the elements, +For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea. + +MONTANO +Is he well shipp'd? + +CASSIO +His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot +Of very expert and approved allowance; +Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, +Stand in bold cure. + +A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!' + +Enter a fourth Gentleman + +CASSIO +What noise? + +Fourth Gentleman +The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea +Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!' + +CASSIO +My hopes do shape him for the governor. + +Guns heard + +Second Gentlemen +They do discharge their shot of courtesy: +Our friends at least. + +CASSIO +I pray you, sir, go forth, +And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. + +Second Gentleman +I shall. + +Exit + +MONTANO +But, good lieutenant, is your general wived? + +CASSIO +Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid +That paragons description and wild fame; +One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, +And in the essential vesture of creation +Does tire the ingener. + +Re-enter second Gentleman + +How now! who has put in? + +Second Gentleman +'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. + +CASSIO +Has had most favourable and happy speed: +Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, +The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands-- +Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-- +As having sense of beauty, do omit +Their mortal natures, letting go safely by +The divine Desdemona. + +MONTANO +What is she? + +CASSIO +She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, +Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, +Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts +A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, +And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, +That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, +Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, +Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits +And bring all Cyprus comfort! + +Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants + +O, behold, +The riches of the ship is come on shore! +Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. +Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, +Before, behind thee, and on every hand, +Enwheel thee round! + +DESDEMONA +I thank you, valiant Cassio. +What tidings can you tell me of my lord? + +CASSIO +He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught +But that he's well and will be shortly here. + +DESDEMONA +O, but I fear--How lost you company? + +CASSIO +The great contention of the sea and skies +Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail. + +Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard + +Second Gentleman +They give their greeting to the citadel; +This likewise is a friend. + +CASSIO +See for the news. + +Exit Gentleman + +Good ancient, you are welcome. + +To EMILIA + +Welcome, mistress. +Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, +That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding +That gives me this bold show of courtesy. + +Kissing her + +IAGO +Sir, would she give you so much of her lips +As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, +You'll have enough. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, she has no speech. + +IAGO +In faith, too much; +I find it still, when I have list to sleep: +Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, +She puts her tongue a little in her heart, +And chides with thinking. + +EMILIA +You have little cause to say so. + +IAGO +Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, +Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens, +Saints m your injuries, devils being offended, +Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds. + +DESDEMONA +O, fie upon thee, slanderer! + +IAGO +Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk: +You rise to play and go to bed to work. + +EMILIA +You shall not write my praise. + +IAGO +No, let me not. + +DESDEMONA +What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst +praise me? + +IAGO +O gentle lady, do not put me to't; +For I am nothing, if not critical. + +DESDEMONA +Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour? + +IAGO +Ay, madam. + +DESDEMONA +I am not merry; but I do beguile +The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. +Come, how wouldst thou praise me? + +IAGO +I am about it; but indeed my invention +Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize; +It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, +And thus she is deliver'd. +If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, +The one's for use, the other useth it. + +DESDEMONA +Well praised! How if she be black and witty? + +IAGO +If she be black, and thereto have a wit, +She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. + +DESDEMONA +Worse and worse. + +EMILIA +How if fair and foolish? + +IAGO +She never yet was foolish that was fair; +For even her folly help'd her to an heir. + +DESDEMONA +These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' +the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for +her that's foul and foolish? + +IAGO +There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, +But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. + +DESDEMONA +O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best. +But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving +woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her +merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? + +IAGO +She that was ever fair and never proud, +Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, +Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, +Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,' +She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, +Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, +She that in wisdom never was so frail +To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; +She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, +See suitors following and not look behind, +She was a wight, if ever such wight were,-- + +DESDEMONA +To do what? + +IAGO +To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. + +DESDEMONA +O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn +of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say +you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal +counsellor? + +CASSIO +He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in +the soldier than in the scholar. + +IAGO +[Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, +whisper: with as little a web as this will I +ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon +her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. +You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as +these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had +been better you had not kissed your three fingers so +oft, which now again you are most apt to play the +sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent +courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers +to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! + +Trumpet within + +The Moor! I know his trumpet. + +CASSIO +'Tis truly so. + +DESDEMONA +Let's meet him and receive him. + +CASSIO +Lo, where he comes! + +Enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +O my fair warrior! + +DESDEMONA +My dear Othello! + +OTHELLO +It gives me wonder great as my content +To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! +If after every tempest come such calms, +May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! +And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas +Olympus-high and duck again as low +As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, +'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, +My soul hath her content so absolute +That not another comfort like to this +Succeeds in unknown fate. + +DESDEMONA +The heavens forbid +But that our loves and comforts should increase, +Even as our days do grow! + +OTHELLO +Amen to that, sweet powers! +I cannot speak enough of this content; +It stops me here; it is too much of joy: +And this, and this, the greatest discords be + +Kissing her + +That e'er our hearts shall make! + +IAGO +[Aside] O, you are well tuned now! +But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, +As honest as I am. + +OTHELLO +Come, let us to the castle. +News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks +are drown'd. +How does my old acquaintance of this isle? +Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus; +I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, +I prattle out of fashion, and I dote +In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago, +Go to the bay and disembark my coffers: +Bring thou the master to the citadel; +He is a good one, and his worthiness +Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona, +Once more, well met at Cyprus. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +IAGO +Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come +hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base +men being in love have then a nobility in their +natures more than is native to them--list me. The +lieutenant tonight watches on the court of +guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is +directly in love with him. + +RODERIGO +With him! why, 'tis not possible. + +IAGO +Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. +Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, +but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies: +and will she love him still for prating? let not +thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed; +and what delight shall she have to look on the +devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of +sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to +give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, +sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which +the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these +required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will +find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, +disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will +instruct her in it and compel her to some second +choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most +pregnant and unforced position--who stands so +eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio +does? a knave very voluble; no further +conscionable than in putting on the mere form of +civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing +of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, +none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a +finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and +counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never +present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the +knave is handsome, young, and hath all those +requisites in him that folly and green minds look +after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman +hath found him already. + +RODERIGO +I cannot believe that in her; she's full of +most blessed condition. + +IAGO +Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of +grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never +have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou +not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst +not mark that? + +RODERIGO +Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. + +IAGO +Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue +to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met +so near with their lips that their breaths embraced +together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these +mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes +the master and main exercise, the incorporate +conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I +have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; +for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows +you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find +some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking +too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what +other course you please, which the time shall more +favourably minister. + +RODERIGO +Well. + +IAGO +Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply +may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for +even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to +mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true +taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So +shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by +the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the +impediment most profitably removed, without the +which there were no expectation of our prosperity. + +RODERIGO +I will do this, if I can bring it to any +opportunity. + +IAGO +I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: +I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. + +RODERIGO +Adieu. + +Exit + +IAGO +That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; +That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: +The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, +Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, +And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona +A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; +Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure +I stand accountant for as great a sin, +But partly led to diet my revenge, +For that I do suspect the lusty Moor +Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof +Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; +And nothing can or shall content my soul +Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, +Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor +At least into a jealousy so strong +That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, +If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash +For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, +I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, +Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb-- +For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too-- +Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me. +For making him egregiously an ass +And practising upon his peace and quiet +Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused: +Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used. + +Exit + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People following +Herald +It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant +general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, +importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, +every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, +some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and +revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these +beneficial news, it is the celebration of his +nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be +proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full +liberty of feasting from this present hour of five +till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the +isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants +OTHELLO +Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: +Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, +Not to outsport discretion. + +CASSIO +Iago hath direction what to do; +But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye +Will I look to't. + +OTHELLO +Iago is most honest. +Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest +Let me have speech with you. + +To DESDEMONA + +Come, my dear love, +The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; +That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you. +Good night. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +Enter IAGO + +CASSIO +Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. + +IAGO +Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the +clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love +of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: +he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and +she is sport for Jove. + +CASSIO +She's a most exquisite lady. + +IAGO +And, I'll warrant her, fun of game. + +CASSIO +Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature. + +IAGO +What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of +provocation. + +CASSIO +An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. + +IAGO +And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? + +CASSIO +She is indeed perfection. + +IAGO +Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I +have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace +of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to +the health of black Othello. + +CASSIO +Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and +unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish +courtesy would invent some other custom of +entertainment. + +IAGO +O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for +you. + +CASSIO +I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was +craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation +it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, +and dare not task my weakness with any more. + +IAGO +What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants +desire it. + +CASSIO +Where are they? + +IAGO +Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. + +CASSIO +I'll do't; but it dislikes me. + +Exit + +IAGO +If I can fasten but one cup upon him, +With that which he hath drunk to-night already, +He'll be as full of quarrel and offence +As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, +Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, +To Desdemona hath to-night caroused +Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch: +Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, +That hold their honours in a wary distance, +The very elements of this warlike isle, +Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, +And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, +Am I to put our Cassio in some action +That may offend the isle.--But here they come: +If consequence do but approve my dream, +My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. + +Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen; servants following with wine + +CASSIO +'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. + +MONTANO +Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am +a soldier. + +IAGO +Some wine, ho! + +Sings + +And let me the canakin clink, clink; +And let me the canakin clink +A soldier's a man; +A life's but a span; +Why, then, let a soldier drink. +Some wine, boys! + +CASSIO +'Fore God, an excellent song. + +IAGO +I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are +most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and +your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing +to your English. + +CASSIO +Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? + +IAGO +Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead +drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he +gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle +can be filled. + +CASSIO +To the health of our general! + +MONTANO +I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. + +IAGO +O sweet England! +King Stephen was a worthy peer, +His breeches cost him but a crown; +He held them sixpence all too dear, +With that he call'd the tailor lown. +He was a wight of high renown, +And thou art but of low degree: +'Tis pride that pulls the country down; +Then take thine auld cloak about thee. +Some wine, ho! + +CASSIO +Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. + +IAGO +Will you hear't again? + +CASSIO +No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that +does those things. Well, God's above all; and there +be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. + +IAGO +It's true, good lieutenant. + +CASSIO +For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor +any man of quality,--I hope to be saved. + +IAGO +And so do I too, lieutenant. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the +lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's +have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive +us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business. +Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my +ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left: +I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and +speak well enough. + +All +Excellent well. + +CASSIO +Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. + +Exit + +MONTANO +To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. + +IAGO +You see this fellow that is gone before; +He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar +And give direction: and do but see his vice; +'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, +The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him. +I fear the trust Othello puts him in. +On some odd time of his infirmity, +Will shake this island. + +MONTANO +But is he often thus? + +IAGO +'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: +He'll watch the horologe a double set, +If drink rock not his cradle. + +MONTANO +It were well +The general were put in mind of it. +Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature +Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, +And looks not on his evils: is not this true? + +Enter RODERIGO + +IAGO +[Aside to him] How now, Roderigo! +I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. + +Exit RODERIGO + +MONTANO +And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor +Should hazard such a place as his own second +With one of an ingraft infirmity: +It were an honest action to say +So to the Moor. + +IAGO +Not I, for this fair island: +I do love Cassio well; and would do much +To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise? + +Cry within: 'Help! help!' + +Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO + +CASSIO +You rogue! you rascal! + +MONTANO +What's the matter, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +A knave teach me my duty! +I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. + +RODERIGO +Beat me! + +CASSIO +Dost thou prate, rogue? + +Striking RODERIGO + +MONTANO +Nay, good lieutenant; + +Staying him + +I pray you, sir, hold your hand. + +CASSIO +Let me go, sir, +Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard. + +MONTANO +Come, come, +you're drunk. + +CASSIO +Drunk! + +They fight + +IAGO +[Aside to RODERIGO] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;-- +Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir; +Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed! + +Bell rings + +Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho! +The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold! +You will be shamed for ever. + +Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +What is the matter here? + +MONTANO +'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. + +Faints + +OTHELLO +Hold, for your lives! + +IAGO +Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,-- +Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? +Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! + +OTHELLO +Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? +Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that +Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? +For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: +He that stirs next to carve for his own rage +Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. +Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle +From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? +Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, +Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. + +IAGO +I do not know: friends all but now, even now, +In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom +Devesting them for bed; and then, but now-- +As if some planet had unwitted men-- +Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, +In opposition bloody. I cannot speak +Any beginning to this peevish odds; +And would in action glorious I had lost +Those legs that brought me to a part of it! + +OTHELLO +How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? + +CASSIO +I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. + +OTHELLO +Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; +The gravity and stillness of your youth +The world hath noted, and your name is great +In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, +That you unlace your reputation thus +And spend your rich opinion for the name +Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. + +MONTANO +Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: +Your officer, Iago, can inform you,-- +While I spare speech, which something now +offends me,-- +Of all that I do know: nor know I aught +By me that's said or done amiss this night; +Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, +And to defend ourselves it be a sin +When violence assails us. + +OTHELLO +Now, by heaven, +My blood begins my safer guides to rule; +And passion, having my best judgment collied, +Assays to lead the way: if I once stir, +Or do but lift this arm, the best of you +Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know +How this foul rout began, who set it on; +And he that is approved in this offence, +Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, +Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, +Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, +To manage private and domestic quarrel, +In night, and on the court and guard of safety! +'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't? + +MONTANO +If partially affined, or leagued in office, +Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, +Thou art no soldier. + +IAGO +Touch me not so near: +I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth +Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; +Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth +Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. +Montano and myself being in speech, +There comes a fellow crying out for help: +And Cassio following him with determined sword, +To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman +Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: +Myself the crying fellow did pursue, +Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out-- +The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, +Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather +For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, +And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night +I ne'er might say before. When I came back-- +For this was brief--I found them close together, +At blow and thrust; even as again they were +When you yourself did part them. +More of this matter cannot I report: +But men are men; the best sometimes forget: +Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, +As men in rage strike those that wish them best, +Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received +From him that fled some strange indignity, +Which patience could not pass. + +OTHELLO +I know, Iago, +Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, +Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee +But never more be officer of mine. + +Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended + +Look, if my gentle love be not raised up! +I'll make thee an example. + +DESDEMONA +What's the matter? + +OTHELLO +All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. +Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon: +Lead him off. + +To MONTANO, who is led off + +Iago, look with care about the town, +And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. +Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life +To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. + +Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO + +IAGO +What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +Ay, past all surgery. + +IAGO +Marry, heaven forbid! + +CASSIO +Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost +my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of +myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, +Iago, my reputation! + +IAGO +As I am an honest man, I thought you had received +some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than +in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false +imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without +deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, +unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! +there are ways to recover the general again: you +are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in +policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his +offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue +to him again, and he's yours. + +CASSIO +I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so +good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so +indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? +and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse +fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible +spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, +let us call thee devil! + +IAGO +What was he that you followed with your sword? What +had he done to you? + +CASSIO +I know not. + +IAGO +Is't possible? + +CASSIO +I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; +a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men +should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away +their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance +revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! + +IAGO +Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus +recovered? + +CASSIO +It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place +to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me +another, to make me frankly despise myself. + +IAGO +Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, +the place, and the condition of this country +stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; +but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +CASSIO +I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me +I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, +such an answer would stop them all. To be now a +sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a +beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is +unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. + +IAGO +Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, +if it be well used: exclaim no more against it. +And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. + +CASSIO +I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! + +IAGO +You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man. +I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife +is now the general: may say so in this respect, for +that he hath devoted and given up himself to the +contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and +graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune +her help to put you in your place again: she is of +so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, +she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more +than she is requested: this broken joint between +you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my +fortunes against any lay worth naming, this +crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. + +CASSIO +You advise me well. + +IAGO +I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. + +CASSIO +I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will +beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: +I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here. + +IAGO +You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I +must to the watch. +CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago. + +Exit + +IAGO +And what's he then that says I play the villain? +When this advice is free I give and honest, +Probal to thinking and indeed the course +To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy +The inclining Desdemona to subdue +In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful +As the free elements. And then for her +To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism, +All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, +His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, +That she may make, unmake, do what she list, +Even as her appetite shall play the god +With his weak function. How am I then a villain +To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, +Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! +When devils will the blackest sins put on, +They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, +As I do now: for whiles this honest fool +Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes +And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, +I'll pour this pestilence into his ear, +That she repeals him for her body's lust; +And by how much she strives to do him good, +She shall undo her credit with the Moor. +So will I turn her virtue into pitch, +And out of her own goodness make the net +That shall enmesh them all. + +Re-enter RODERIGO + +How now, Roderigo! + +RODERIGO +I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that +hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is +almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well +cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall +have so much experience for my pains, and so, with +no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice. + +IAGO +How poor are they that have not patience! +What wound did ever heal but by degrees? +Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; +And wit depends on dilatory time. +Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee. +And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio: +Though other things grow fair against the sun, +Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: +Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; +Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. +Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: +Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: +Nay, get thee gone. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Two things are to be done: +My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; +I'll set her on; +Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, +And bring him jump when he may Cassio find +Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way +Dull not device by coldness and delay. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the castle. + +Enter CASSIO and some Musicians +CASSIO +Masters, play here; I will content your pains; +Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.' + +Music + +Enter Clown + +Clown +Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples, +that they speak i' the nose thus? + +First Musician +How, sir, how! + +Clown +Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments? + +First Musician +Ay, marry, are they, sir. + +Clown +O, thereby hangs a tail. + +First Musician +Whereby hangs a tale, sir? + +Clown +Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know. +But, masters, here's money for you: and the general +so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's +sake, to make no more noise with it. + +First Musician +Well, sir, we will not. + +Clown +If you have any music that may not be heard, to't +again: but, as they say to hear music the general +does not greatly care. + +First Musician +We have none such, sir. + +Clown +Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away: +go; vanish into air; away! + +Exeunt Musicians + +CASSIO +Dost thou hear, my honest friend? + +Clown +No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you. + +CASSIO +Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece +of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends +the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's +one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech: +wilt thou do this? + +Clown +She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I +shall seem to notify unto her. + +CASSIO +Do, good my friend. + +Exit Clown + +Enter IAGO + +In happy time, Iago. + +IAGO +You have not been a-bed, then? + +CASSIO +Why, no; the day had broke +Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago, +To send in to your wife: my suit to her +Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona +Procure me some access. + +IAGO +I'll send her to you presently; +And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor +Out of the way, that your converse and business +May be more free. + +CASSIO +I humbly thank you for't. + +Exit IAGO + +I never knew +A Florentine more kind and honest. + +Enter EMILIA + +EMILIA +Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry +For your displeasure; but all will sure be well. +The general and his wife are talking of it; +And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies, +That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus, +And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom +He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you +And needs no other suitor but his likings +To take the safest occasion by the front +To bring you in again. + +CASSIO +Yet, I beseech you, +If you think fit, or that it may be done, +Give me advantage of some brief discourse +With Desdemona alone. + +EMILIA +Pray you, come in; +I will bestow you where you shall have time +To speak your bosom freely. + +CASSIO +I am much bound to you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen +OTHELLO +These letters give, Iago, to the pilot; +And by him do my duties to the senate: +That done, I will be walking on the works; +Repair there to me. + +IAGO +Well, my good lord, I'll do't. + +OTHELLO +This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't? + +Gentleman +We'll wait upon your lordship. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The garden of the castle. + +Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA +DESDEMONA +Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do +All my abilities in thy behalf. + +EMILIA +Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband, +As if the case were his. + +DESDEMONA +O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio, +But I will have my lord and you again +As friendly as you were. + +CASSIO +Bounteous madam, +Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, +He's never any thing but your true servant. + +DESDEMONA +I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord: +You have known him long; and be you well assured +He shall in strangeness stand no further off +Than in a polite distance. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, lady, +That policy may either last so long, +Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, +Or breed itself so out of circumstance, +That, I being absent and my place supplied, +My general will forget my love and service. + +DESDEMONA +Do not doubt that; before Emilia here +I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee, +If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it +To the last article: my lord shall never rest; +I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience; +His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; +I'll intermingle every thing he does +With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio; +For thy solicitor shall rather die +Than give thy cause away. + +EMILIA +Madam, here comes my lord. + +CASSIO +Madam, I'll take my leave. + +DESDEMONA +Why, stay, and hear me speak. + +CASSIO +Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease, +Unfit for mine own purposes. + +DESDEMONA +Well, do your discretion. + +Exit CASSIO + +Enter OTHELLO and IAGO + +IAGO +Ha! I like not that. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say? + +IAGO +Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what. + +OTHELLO +Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? + +IAGO +Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it, +That he would steal away so guilty-like, +Seeing you coming. + +OTHELLO +I do believe 'twas he. + +DESDEMONA +How now, my lord! +I have been talking with a suitor here, +A man that languishes in your displeasure. + +OTHELLO +Who is't you mean? + +DESDEMONA +Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, +If I have any grace or power to move you, +His present reconciliation take; +For if he be not one that truly loves you, +That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, +I have no judgment in an honest face: +I prithee, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Went he hence now? + +DESDEMONA +Ay, sooth; so humbled +That he hath left part of his grief with me, +To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. + +DESDEMONA +But shall't be shortly? + +OTHELLO +The sooner, sweet, for you. + +DESDEMONA +Shall't be to-night at supper? + +OTHELLO +No, not to-night. + +DESDEMONA +To-morrow dinner, then? + +OTHELLO +I shall not dine at home; +I meet the captains at the citadel. + +DESDEMONA +Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn; +On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: +I prithee, name the time, but let it not +Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent; +And yet his trespass, in our common reason-- +Save that, they say, the wars must make examples +Out of their best--is not almost a fault +To incur a private cheque. When shall he come? +Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul, +What you would ask me, that I should deny, +Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio, +That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time, +When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, +Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do +To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,-- + +OTHELLO +Prithee, no more: let him come when he will; +I will deny thee nothing. + +DESDEMONA +Why, this is not a boon; +'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, +Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, +Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit +To your own person: nay, when I have a suit +Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, +It shall be full of poise and difficult weight +And fearful to be granted. + +OTHELLO +I will deny thee nothing: +Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, +To leave me but a little to myself. + +DESDEMONA +Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. + +OTHELLO +Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight. + +DESDEMONA +Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you; +Whate'er you be, I am obedient. + +Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA + +OTHELLO +Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, +But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, +Chaos is come again. + +IAGO +My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say, Iago? + +IAGO +Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, +Know of your love? + +OTHELLO +He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? + +IAGO +But for a satisfaction of my thought; +No further harm. + +OTHELLO +Why of thy thought, Iago? + +IAGO +I did not think he had been acquainted with her. + +OTHELLO +O, yes; and went between us very oft. + +IAGO +Indeed! + +OTHELLO +Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that? +Is he not honest? + +IAGO +Honest, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Honest! ay, honest. + +IAGO +My lord, for aught I know. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou think? + +IAGO +Think, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Think, my lord! +By heaven, he echoes me, +As if there were some monster in his thought +Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something: +I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that, +When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like? +And when I told thee he was of my counsel +In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!' +And didst contract and purse thy brow together, +As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain +Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, +Show me thy thought. + +IAGO +My lord, you know I love you. + +OTHELLO +I think thou dost; +And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, +And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath, +Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: +For such things in a false disloyal knave +Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just +They are close delations, working from the heart +That passion cannot rule. + +IAGO +For Michael Cassio, +I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. + +OTHELLO +I think so too. + +IAGO +Men should be what they seem; +Or those that be not, would they might seem none! + +OTHELLO +Certain, men should be what they seem. + +IAGO +Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man. + +OTHELLO +Nay, yet there's more in this: +I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, +As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts +The worst of words. + +IAGO +Good my lord, pardon me: +Though I am bound to every act of duty, +I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. +Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false; +As where's that palace whereinto foul things +Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure, +But some uncleanly apprehensions +Keep leets and law-days and in session sit +With meditations lawful? + +OTHELLO +Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, +If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear +A stranger to thy thoughts. + +IAGO +I do beseech you-- +Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, +As, I confess, it is my nature's plague +To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy +Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet, +From one that so imperfectly conceits, +Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble +Out of his scattering and unsure observance. +It were not for your quiet nor your good, +Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, +To let you know my thoughts. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou mean? + +IAGO +Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, +Is the immediate jewel of their souls: +Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; +'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands: +But he that filches from me my good name +Robs me of that which not enriches him +And makes me poor indeed. + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. + +IAGO +You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; +Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. + +OTHELLO +Ha! + +IAGO +O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; +It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock +The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss +Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; +But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er +Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! + +OTHELLO +O misery! + +IAGO +Poor and content is rich and rich enough, +But riches fineless is as poor as winter +To him that ever fears he shall be poor. +Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend +From jealousy! + +OTHELLO +Why, why is this? +Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy, +To follow still the changes of the moon +With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt +Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, +When I shall turn the business of my soul +To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, +Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous +To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, +Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well; +Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: +Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw +The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; +For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; +I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; +And on the proof, there is no more but this,-- +Away at once with love or jealousy! + +IAGO +I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason +To show the love and duty that I bear you +With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, +Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. +Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; +Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: +I would not have your free and noble nature, +Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't: +I know our country disposition well; +In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks +They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience +Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. + +Timon of Athens +Shakespeare homepage | Timon of Athens | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors +Poet +Good day, sir. + +Painter +I am glad you're well. + +Poet +I have not seen you long: how goes the world? + +Painter +It wears, sir, as it grows. + +Poet +Ay, that's well known: +But what particular rarity? what strange, +Which manifold record not matches? See, +Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power +Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. + +Painter +I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. + +Merchant +O, 'tis a worthy lord. + +Jeweller +Nay, that's most fix'd. + +Merchant +A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, +To an untirable and continuate goodness: +He passes. +Jeweller: I have a jewel here-- + +Merchant +O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? +Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- + +Poet +[Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have +praised the vile, +It stains the glory in that happy verse +Which aptly sings the good.' + +Merchant +'Tis a good form. + +Looking at the jewel + +Jeweller +And rich: here is a water, look ye. + +Painter +You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication +To the great lord. + +Poet +A thing slipp'd idly from me. +Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes +From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint +Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame +Provokes itself and like the current flies +Each bound it chafes. What have you there? + +Painter +A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? + +Poet +Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. +Let's see your piece. + +Painter +'Tis a good piece. + +Poet +So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. + +Painter +Indifferent. + +Poet +Admirable: how this grace +Speaks his own standing! what a mental power +This eye shoots forth! how big imagination +Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture +One might interpret. + +Painter +It is a pretty mocking of the life. +Here is a touch; is't good? + +Poet +I will say of it, +It tutors nature: artificial strife +Lives in these touches, livelier than life. + +Enter certain Senators, and pass over + +Painter +How this lord is follow'd! + +Poet +The senators of Athens: happy man! + +Painter +Look, more! + +Poet +You see this confluence, this great flood +of visitors. +I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, +Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug +With amplest entertainment: my free drift +Halts not particularly, but moves itself +In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice +Infects one comma in the course I hold; +But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, +Leaving no tract behind. + +Painter +How shall I understand you? + +Poet +I will unbolt to you. +You see how all conditions, how all minds, +As well of glib and slippery creatures as +Of grave and austere quality, tender down +Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune +Upon his good and gracious nature hanging +Subdues and properties to his love and tendance +All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer +To Apemantus, that few things loves better +Than to abhor himself: even he drops down +The knee before him, and returns in peace +Most rich in Timon's nod. + +Painter +I saw them speak together. + +Poet +Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill +Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount +Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, +That labour on the bosom of this sphere +To propagate their states: amongst them all, +Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, +One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame, +Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; +Whose present grace to present slaves and servants +Translates his rivals. + +Painter +'Tis conceived to scope. +This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, +With one man beckon'd from the rest below, +Bowing his head against the sleepy mount +To climb his happiness, would be well express'd +In our condition. + +Poet +Nay, sir, but hear me on. +All those which were his fellows but of late, +Some better than his value, on the moment +Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, +Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, +Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him +Drink the free air. + +Painter +Ay, marry, what of these? + +Poet +When Fortune in her shift and change of mood +Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants +Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top +Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, +Not one accompanying his declining foot. + +Painter +'Tis common: +A thousand moral paintings I can show +That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's +More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well +To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen +The foot above the head. + +Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following + +TIMON +Imprison'd is he, say you? + +Messenger +Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, +His means most short, his creditors most strait: +Your honourable letter he desires +To those have shut him up; which failing, +Periods his comfort. + +TIMON +Noble Ventidius! Well; +I am not of that feather to shake off +My friend when he must need me. I do know him +A gentleman that well deserves a help: +Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, +and free him. + +Messenger +Your lordship ever binds him. + +TIMON +Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; +And being enfranchised, bid him come to me. +'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, +But to support him after. Fare you well. + +Messenger +All happiness to your honour! + +Exit + +Enter an old Athenian + +Old Athenian +Lord Timon, hear me speak. + +TIMON +Freely, good father. + +Old Athenian +Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. + +TIMON +I have so: what of him? + +Old Athenian +Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. + +TIMON +Attends he here, or no? Lucilius! + +LUCILIUS +Here, at your lordship's service. + +Old Athenian +This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, +By night frequents my house. I am a man +That from my first have been inclined to thrift; +And my estate deserves an heir more raised +Than one which holds a trencher. + +TIMON +Well; what further? + +Old Athenian +One only daughter have I, no kin else, +On whom I may confer what I have got: +The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride, +And I have bred her at my dearest cost +In qualities of the best. This man of thine +Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord, +Join with me to forbid him her resort; +Myself have spoke in vain. + +TIMON +The man is honest. + +Old Athenian +Therefore he will be, Timon: +His honesty rewards him in itself; +It must not bear my daughter. + +TIMON +Does she love him? + +Old Athenian +She is young and apt: +Our own precedent passions do instruct us +What levity's in youth. + +TIMON +[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid? + +LUCILIUS +Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. + +Old Athenian +If in her marriage my consent be missing, +I call the gods to witness, I will choose +Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, +And dispossess her all. + +TIMON +How shall she be endow'd, +if she be mated with an equal husband? + +Old Athenian +Three talents on the present; in future, all. + +TIMON +This gentleman of mine hath served me long: +To build his fortune I will strain a little, +For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: +What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, +And make him weigh with her. + +Old Athenian +Most noble lord, +Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. + +TIMON +My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. + +LUCILIUS +Humbly I thank your lordship: never may +The state or fortune fall into my keeping, +Which is not owed to you! + +Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian + +Poet +Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! + +TIMON +I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: +Go not away. What have you there, my friend? + +Painter +A piece of painting, which I do beseech +Your lordship to accept. + +TIMON +Painting is welcome. +The painting is almost the natural man; +or since dishonour traffics with man's nature, +He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are +Even such as they give out. I like your work; +And you shall find I like it: wait attendance +Till you hear further from me. + +Painter +The gods preserve ye! + +TIMON +Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; +We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel +Hath suffer'd under praise. + +Jeweller +What, my lord! dispraise? + +TIMON +A more satiety of commendations. +If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, +It would unclew me quite. + +Jeweller +My lord, 'tis rated +As those which sell would give: but you well know, +Things of like value differing in the owners +Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord, +You mend the jewel by the wearing it. + +TIMON +Well mock'd. + +Merchant +No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, +Which all men speak with him. + +TIMON +Look, who comes here: will you be chid? + +Enter APEMANTUS + +Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship. + +Merchant +He'll spare none. + +TIMON +Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! + +APEMANTUS +Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; +When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. + +TIMON +Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. + +APEMANTUS +Are they not Athenians? + +TIMON +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then I repent not. +Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name. + +TIMON +Thou art proud, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon. + +TIMON +Whither art going? + +APEMANTUS +To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. + +TIMON +That's a deed thou'lt die for. + +APEMANTUS +Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. + +TIMON +How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +The best, for the innocence. + +TIMON +Wrought he not well that painted it? + +APEMANTUS +He wrought better that made the painter; and yet +he's but a filthy piece of work. + +Painter +You're a dog. + +APEMANTUS +Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog? + +TIMON +Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +No; I eat not lords. + +TIMON +An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. + +APEMANTUS +O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. + +TIMON +That's a lascivious apprehension. + +APEMANTUS +So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. + +TIMON +How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a +man a doit. + +TIMON +What dost thou think 'tis worth? + +APEMANTUS +Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! + +Poet +How now, philosopher! + +APEMANTUS +Thou liest. + +Poet +Art not one? + +APEMANTUS +Yes. + +Poet +Then I lie not. + +APEMANTUS +Art not a poet? + +Poet +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou +hast feigned him a worthy fellow. + +Poet +That's not feigned; he is so. + +APEMANTUS +Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy +labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' +the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! + +TIMON +What wouldst do then, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. + +TIMON +What, thyself? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Wherefore? + +APEMANTUS +That I had no angry wit to be a lord. +Art not thou a merchant? + +Merchant +Ay, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! + +Merchant +If traffic do it, the gods do it. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! + +Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger + +TIMON +What trumpet's that? + +Messenger +'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, +All of companionship. + +TIMON +Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +You must needs dine with me: go not you hence +Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, +Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest + +Most welcome, sir! + +APEMANTUS +So, so, there! +Aches contract and starve your supple joints! +That there should be small love 'mongst these +sweet knaves, +And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out +Into baboon and monkey. + +ALCIBIADES +Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed +Most hungerly on your sight. + +TIMON +Right welcome, sir! +Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time +In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. + +Exeunt all except APEMANTUS + +Enter two Lords + +First Lord +What time o' day is't, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Time to be honest. + +First Lord +That time serves still. + +APEMANTUS +The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. + +Second Lord +Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. + +Second Lord +Fare thee well, fare thee well. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. + +Second Lord +Why, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to +give thee none. + +First Lord +Hang thyself! + +APEMANTUS +No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy +requests to thy friend. + +Second Lord +Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! + +APEMANTUS +I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass. + +Exit + +First Lord +He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, +And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes +The very heart of kindness. + +Second Lord +He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, +Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays +Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, +But breeds the giver a return exceeding +All use of quittance. + +First Lord +The noblest mind he carries +That ever govern'd man. + +Second Lord +Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? + +First Lord +I'll keep you company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself +VENTIDIUS +Most honour'd Timon, +It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age, +And call him to long peace. +He is gone happy, and has left me rich: +Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound +To your free heart, I do return those talents, +Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help +I derived liberty. + +TIMON +O, by no means, +Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: +I gave it freely ever; and there's none +Can truly say he gives, if he receives: +If our betters play at that game, we must not dare +To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair. + +VENTIDIUS +A noble spirit! + +TIMON +Nay, my lords, + +They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON + +Ceremony was but devised at first +To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, +Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; +But where there is true friendship, there needs none. +Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes +Than my fortunes to me. + +They sit + +First Lord +My lord, we always have confess'd it. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not? + +TIMON +O, Apemantus, you are welcome. + +APEMANTUS +No; +You shall not make me welcome: +I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. + +TIMON +Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there +Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame. +They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond +man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by +himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is +he fit for't, indeed. + +APEMANTUS +Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to +observe; I give thee warning on't. + +TIMON +I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, +therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; +prithee, let my meat make thee silent. + +APEMANTUS +I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should +ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of +men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me +to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood; +and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. +I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: +Methinks they should invite them without knives; +Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. +There's much example for't; the fellow that sits +next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the +breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest +man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a +huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; +Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: +Great men should drink with harness on their throats. + +TIMON +My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. + +Second Lord +Let it flow this way, my good lord. + +APEMANTUS +Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides +well. Those healths will make thee and thy state +look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to +be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire: +This and my food are equals; there's no odds: +Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. +Apemantus' grace. +Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; +I pray for no man but myself: +Grant I may never prove so fond, +To trust man on his oath or bond; +Or a harlot, for her weeping; +Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping: +Or a keeper with my freedom; +Or my friends, if I should need 'em. +Amen. So fall to't: +Rich men sin, and I eat root. + +Eats and drinks + +Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! + +TIMON +Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. + +ALCIBIADES +My heart is ever at your service, my lord. + +TIMON +You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a +dinner of friends. + +ALCIBIADES +So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat +like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast. + +APEMANTUS +Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then, +that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em! + +First Lord +Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you +would once use our hearts, whereby we might express +some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves +for ever perfect. + +TIMON +O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods +themselves have provided that I shall have much help +from you: how had you been my friends else? why +have you that charitable title from thousands, did +not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told +more of you to myself than you can with modesty +speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm +you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any +friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they +were the most needless creatures living, should we +ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble +sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their +sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished +myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We +are born to do benefits: and what better or +properer can we can our own than the riches of our +friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have +so many, like brothers, commanding one another's +fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born! +Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to +forget their faults, I drink to you. + +APEMANTUS +Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. + +Second Lord +Joy had the like conception in our eyes +And at that instant like a babe sprung up. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. + +Third Lord +I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. + +APEMANTUS +Much! + +Tucket, within + +TIMON +What means that trump? + +Enter a Servant + +How now? + +Servant +Please you, my lord, there are certain +ladies most desirous of admittance. + +TIMON +Ladies! what are their wills? + +Servant +There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which +bears that office, to signify their pleasures. + +TIMON +I pray, let them be admitted. + +Enter Cupid + +Cupid +Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all +That of his bounties taste! The five best senses +Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely +To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear, +Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise; +They only now come but to feast thine eyes. + +TIMON +They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance: +Music, make their welcome! + +Exit Cupid + +First Lord +You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved. + +Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing + +APEMANTUS +Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! +They dance! they are mad women. +Like madness is the glory of this life. +As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. +We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves; +And spend our flatteries, to drink those men +Upon whose age we void it up again, +With poisonous spite and envy. +Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? +Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves +Of their friends' gift? +I should fear those that dance before me now +Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; +Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease + +TIMON +You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, +Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, +Which was not half so beautiful and kind; +You have added worth unto 't and lustre, +And entertain'd me with mine own device; +I am to thank you for 't. + +First Lady +My lord, you take us even at the best. + +APEMANTUS +'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold +taking, I doubt me. + +TIMON +Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you: +Please you to dispose yourselves. + +All Ladies +Most thankfully, my lord. + +Exeunt Cupid and Ladies + +TIMON +Flavius. + +FLAVIUS +My lord? + +TIMON +The little casket bring me hither. + +FLAVIUS +Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! +There is no crossing him in 's humour; + +Aside + +Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should, +When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could. +'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, +That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. + +Exit + +First Lord +Where be our men? + +Servant +Here, my lord, in readiness. + +Second Lord +Our horses! + +Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket + +TIMON +O my friends, +I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord, +I must entreat you, honour me so much +As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it, +Kind my lord. + +First Lord +I am so far already in your gifts,-- + +All +So are we all. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate +Newly alighted, and come to visit you. + +TIMON +They are fairly welcome. + +FLAVIUS +I beseech your honour, +Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. + +TIMON +Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee: +I prithee, let's be provided to show them +entertainment. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] I scarce know how. + +Enter a Second Servant + +Second Servant +May it please your honour, Lord Lucius, +Out of his free love, hath presented to you +Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. + +TIMON +I shall accept them fairly; let the presents +Be worthily entertain'd. + +Enter a third Servant + +How now! what news? + +Third Servant +Please you, my lord, that honourable +gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company +to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour +two brace of greyhounds. + +TIMON +I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, +Not without fair reward. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] What will this come to? +He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, +And all out of an empty coffer: +Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, +To show him what a beggar his heart is, +Being of no power to make his wishes good: +His promises fly so beyond his state +That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes +For every word: he is so kind that he now +Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books. +Well, would I were gently put out of office +Before I were forced out! +Happier is he that has no friend to feed +Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. +I bleed inwardly for my lord. + +Exit + +TIMON +You do yourselves +Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: +Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. + +Second Lord +With more than common thanks I will receive it. + +Third Lord +O, he's the very soul of bounty! + +TIMON +And now I remember, my lord, you gave +Good words the other day of a bay courser +I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it. + +Second Lord +O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. + +TIMON +You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man +Can justly praise but what he does affect: +I weigh my friend's affection with mine own; +I'll tell you true. I'll call to you. + +All Lords +O, none so welcome. + +TIMON +I take all and your several visitations +So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; +Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, +And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades, +Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; +It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living +Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast +Lie in a pitch'd field. + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, defiled land, my lord. + +First Lord +We are so virtuously bound-- + +TIMON +And so +Am I to you. + +Second Lord +So infinitely endear'd-- + +TIMON +All to you. Lights, more lights! + +First Lord +The best of happiness, +Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon! + +TIMON +Ready for his friends. + +Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON + +APEMANTUS +What a coil's here! +Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! +I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums +That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs: +Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs, +Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies. + +TIMON +Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be +good to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too, +there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then +thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, +Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in +paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and +vain-glories? + +TIMON +Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am +sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come +with better music. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +So: +Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then: +I'll lock thy heaven from thee. +O, that men's ears should be +To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Senator's house. + +Enter Senator, with papers in his hand +Senator +And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore +He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, +Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion +Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not. +If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, +And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. +If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more +Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, +Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight, +And able horses. No porter at his gate, +But rather one that smiles and still invites +All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason +Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! +Caphis, I say! + +Enter CAPHIS + +CAPHIS +Here, sir; what is your pleasure? + +Senator +Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon; +Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased +With slight denial, nor then silenced when-- +'Commend me to your master'--and the cap +Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him, +My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn +Out of mine own; his days and times are past +And my reliances on his fracted dates +Have smit my credit: I love and honour him, +But must not break my back to heal his finger; +Immediate are my needs, and my relief +Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words, +But find supply immediate. Get you gone: +Put on a most importunate aspect, +A visage of demand; for, I do fear, +When every feather sticks in his own wing, +Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, +Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone. + +CAPHIS +I go, sir. + +Senator +'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you, +And have the dates in contempt. + +CAPHIS +I will, sir. + +Senator +Go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand +FLAVIUS +No care, no stop! so senseless of expense, +That he will neither know how to maintain it, +Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account +How things go from him, nor resumes no care +Of what is to continue: never mind +Was to be so unwise, to be so kind. +What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel: +I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. +Fie, fie, fie, fie! + +Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro + +CAPHIS +Good even, Varro: what, +You come for money? +Varro's Servant Is't not your business too? + +CAPHIS +It is: and yours too, Isidore? +Isidore's Servant It is so. + +CAPHIS +Would we were all discharged! +Varro's Servant I fear it. + +CAPHIS +Here comes the lord. + +Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, & c + +TIMON +So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again, +My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will? + +CAPHIS +My lord, here is a note of certain dues. + +TIMON +Dues! Whence are you? + +CAPHIS +Of Athens here, my lord. + +TIMON +Go to my steward. + +CAPHIS +Please it your lordship, he hath put me off +To the succession of new days this month: +My master is awaked by great occasion +To call upon his own, and humbly prays you +That with your other noble parts you'll suit +In giving him his right. + +TIMON +Mine honest friend, +I prithee, but repair to me next morning. + +CAPHIS +Nay, good my lord,-- + +TIMON +Contain thyself, good friend. +Varro's Servant One Varro's servant, my good lord,-- +Isidore's Servant From Isidore; +He humbly prays your speedy payment. + +CAPHIS +If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-- +Varro's Servant 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past. +Isidore's Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord; +And I am sent expressly to your lordship. + +TIMON +Give me breath. +I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on; +I'll wait upon you instantly. + +Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords + +To FLAVIUS + +Come hither: pray you, +How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd +With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds, +And the detention of long-since-due debts, +Against my honour? + +FLAVIUS +Please you, gentlemen, +The time is unagreeable to this business: +Your importunacy cease till after dinner, +That I may make his lordship understand +Wherefore you are not paid. + +TIMON +Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd. + +Exit + +FLAVIUS +Pray, draw near. + +Exit + +Enter APEMANTUS and Fool + +CAPHIS +Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: +let's ha' some sport with 'em. +Varro's Servant Hang him, he'll abuse us. +Isidore's Servant A plague upon him, dog! +Varro's Servant How dost, fool? + +APEMANTUS +Dost dialogue with thy shadow? +Varro's Servant I speak not to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No,'tis to thyself. + +To the Fool + +Come away. +Isidore's Servant There's the fool hangs on your back already. + +APEMANTUS +No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet. + +CAPHIS +Where's the fool now? + +APEMANTUS +He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and +usurers' men! bawds between gold and want! + +All Servants +What are we, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Asses. + +All Servants +Why? + +APEMANTUS +That you ask me what you are, and do not know +yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool. + +Fool +How do you, gentlemen? + +All Servants +Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress? + +Fool +She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens +as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! + +APEMANTUS +Good! gramercy. + +Enter Page + +Fool +Look you, here comes my mistress' page. + +Page +[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you +in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer +thee profitably. + +Page +Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of +these letters: I know not which is which. + +APEMANTUS +Canst not read? + +Page +No. + +APEMANTUS +There will little learning die then, that day thou +art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to +Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't +die a bawd. + +Page +Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a +dog's death. Answer not; I am gone. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with +you to Lord Timon's. + +Fool +Will you leave me there? + +APEMANTUS +If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? + +All Servants +Ay; would they served us! + +APEMANTUS +So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief. + +Fool +Are you three usurers' men? + +All Servants +Ay, fool. + +Fool +I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my +mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come +to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and +go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house +merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? +Varro's Servant I could render one. + +APEMANTUS +Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster +and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be +no less esteemed. +Varro's Servant What is a whoremaster, fool? + +Fool +A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. +'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord; +sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, +with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is +very often like a knight; and, generally, in all +shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore +to thirteen, this spirit walks in. +Varro's Servant Thou art not altogether a fool. + +Fool +Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as +I have, so much wit thou lackest. + +APEMANTUS +That answer might have become Apemantus. + +All Servants +Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon. + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +APEMANTUS +Come with me, fool, come. + +Fool +I do not always follow lover, elder brother and +woman; sometime the philosopher. + +Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool + +FLAVIUS +Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon. + +Exeunt Servants + +TIMON +You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time +Had you not fully laid my state before me, +That I might so have rated my expense, +As I had leave of means? + +FLAVIUS +You would not hear me, +At many leisures I proposed. + +TIMON +Go to: +Perchance some single vantages you took. +When my indispos ition put you back: +And that unaptness made your minister, +Thus to excuse yourself. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, +At many times I brought in my accounts, +Laid them before you; you would throw them off, +And say, you found them in mine honesty. +When, for some trifling present, you have bid me +Return so much, I have shook my head and wept; +Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you +To hold your hand more close: I did endure +Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have +Prompted you in the ebb of your estate +And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, +Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time-- +The greatest of your having lacks a half +To pay your present debts. + +TIMON +Let all my land be sold. + +FLAVIUS +'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone; +And what remains will hardly stop the mouth +Of present dues: the future comes apace: +What shall defend the interim? and at length +How goes our reckoning? + +TIMON +To Lacedaemon did my land extend. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, the world is but a word: +Were it all yours to give it in a breath, +How quickly were it gone! + +TIMON +You tell me true. + +FLAVIUS +If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, +Call me before the exactest auditors +And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, +When all our offices have been oppress'd +With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept +With drunken spilth of wine, when every room +Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy, +I have retired me to a wasteful cock, +And set mine eyes at flow. + +TIMON +Prithee, no more. + +FLAVIUS +Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! +How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants +This night englutted! Who is not Timon's? +What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is +Lord Timon's? +Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! +Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, +The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: +Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, +These flies are couch'd. + +TIMON +Come, sermon me no further: +No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; +Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. +Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack, +To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart; +If I would broach the vessels of my love, +And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, +Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use +As I can bid thee speak. + +FLAVIUS +Assurance bless your thoughts! + +TIMON +And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd, +That I account them blessings; for by these +Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you +Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends. +Within there! Flaminius! Servilius! + +Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants + +Servants +My lord? my lord? + +TIMON +I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius; +to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour +to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their +loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have +found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let +the request be fifty talents. + +FLAMINIUS +As you have said, my lord. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum! + +TIMON +Go you, sir, to the senators-- +Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have +Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant +A thousand talents to me. + +FLAVIUS +I have been bold-- +For that I knew it the most general way-- +To them to use your signet and your name; +But they do shake their heads, and I am here +No richer in return. + +TIMON +Is't true? can't be? + +FLAVIUS +They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, +That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot +Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,-- +But yet they could have wish'd--they know not-- +Something hath been amiss--a noble nature +May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;-- +And so, intending other serious matters, +After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, +With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods +They froze me into silence. + +TIMON +You gods, reward them! +Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows +Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: +Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; +'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; +And nature, as it grows again toward earth, +Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. + +To a Servant + +Go to Ventidius. + +To FLAVIUS + +Prithee, be not sad, +Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak. +No blame belongs to thee. + +To Servant + +Ventidius lately +Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd +Into a great estate: when he was poor, +Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends, +I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me; +Bid him suppose some good necessity +Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd +With those five talents. + +Exit Servant + +To FLAVIUS + +That had, give't these fellows +To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think, +That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink. + +FLAVIUS +I would I could not think it: that thought is +bounty's foe; +Being free itself, it thinks all others so. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in Lucullus' house. + +FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him +Servant +I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you. + +FLAMINIUS +I thank you, sir. + +Enter LUCULLUS + +Servant +Here's my lord. + +LUCULLUS +[Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I +warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver +basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest +Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir. +Fill me some wine. + +Exit Servants + +And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted +gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord +and master? + +FLAMINIUS +His health is well sir. + +LUCULLUS +I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and +what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius? + +FLAMINIUS +'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my +lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to +supply; who, having great and instant occasion to +use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to +furnish him, nothing doubting your present +assistance therein. + +LUCULLUS +La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas, +good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not +keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' +dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to +supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less, +and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning +by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty +is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get +him from't. + +Re-enter Servant, with wine + +Servant +Please your lordship, here is the wine. + +LUCULLUS +Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee. + +FLAMINIUS +Your lordship speaks your pleasure. + +LUCULLUS +I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt +spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what +belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if +the time use thee well: good parts in thee. + +To Servant + +Get you gone, sirrah. + +Exit Servant + +Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a +bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou +knowest well enough, although thou comest to me, +that this is no time to lend money, especially upon +bare friendship, without security. Here's three +solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say +thou sawest me not. Fare thee well. + +FLAMINIUS +Is't possible the world should so much differ, +And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, +To him that worships thee! + +Throwing the money back + +LUCULLUS +Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master. + +Exit + +FLAMINIUS +May these add to the number that may scald thee! +Let moulten coin be thy damnation, +Thou disease of a friend, and not himself! +Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, +It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, +I feel master's passion! this slave, +Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him: +Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, +When he is turn'd to poison? +O, may diseases only work upon't! +And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature +Which my lord paid for, be of any power +To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! + +Exit + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers +LUCILIUS +Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and +an honourable gentleman. + +First Stranger +We know him for no less, though we are but strangers +to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and +which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's +happy hours are done and past, and his estate +shrinks from him. + +LUCILIUS +Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money. + +Second Stranger +But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago, +one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow +so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and +showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied. + +LUCILIUS +How! + +Second Stranger +I tell you, denied, my lord. + +LUCILIUS +What a strange case was that! now, before the gods, +I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man! +there was very little honour showed in't. For my own +part, I must needs confess, I have received some +small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels +and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his; +yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should +ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +SERVILIUS +See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; +I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,-- + +To LUCIUS + +LUCILIUS +Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: +commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very +exquisite friend. + +SERVILIUS +May it please your honour, my lord hath sent-- + +LUCILIUS +Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to +that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank +him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now? + +SERVILIUS +Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; +requesting your lordship to supply his instant use +with so many talents. + +LUCILIUS +I know his lordship is but merry with me; +He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. + +SERVILIUS +But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. +If his occasion were not virtuous, +I should not urge it half so faithfully. + +LUCILIUS +Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? + +SERVILIUS +Upon my soul,'tis true, sir. + +LUCILIUS +What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself +against such a good time, when I might ha' shown +myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I +should purchase the day before for a little part, +and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now, +before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more +beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon +myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would +not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now. +Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I +hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me, +because I have no power to be kind: and tell him +this from me, I count it one of my greatest +afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an +honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you +befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him? + +SERVILIUS +Yes, sir, I shall. + +LUCILIUS +I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. + +Exit SERVILIUS + +True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed; +And he that's once denied will hardly speed. + +Exit + +First Stranger +Do you observe this, Hostilius? + +Second Stranger +Ay, too well. + +First Stranger +Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the +same piece +Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him +His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in +My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father, +And kept his credit with his purse, +Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money +Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks, +But Timon's silver treads upon his lip; +And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man +When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-- +He does deny him, in respect of his, +What charitable men afford to beggars. + +Third Stranger +Religion groans at it. + +First Stranger +For mine own part, +I never tasted Timon in my life, +Nor came any of his bounties over me, +To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest, +For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue +And honourable carriage, +Had his necessity made use of me, +I would have put my wealth into donation, +And the best half should have return'd to him, +So much I love his heart: but, I perceive, +Men must learn now with pity to dispense; +For policy sits above conscience. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Sempronius' house. + +Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's +SEMPRONIUS +Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove +all others? +He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; +And now Ventidius is wealthy too, +Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these +Owe their estates unto him. + +Servant +My lord, +They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for +They have au denied him. + +SEMPRONIUS +How! have they denied him? +Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him? +And does he send to me? Three? hum! +It shows but little love or judgment in him: +Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like +physicians, +Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me? +Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him, +That might have known my place: I see no sense for't, +But his occasion might have woo'd me first; +For, in my conscience, I was the first man +That e'er received gift from him: +And does he think so backwardly of me now, +That I'll requite its last? No: +So it may prove an argument of laughter +To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool. +I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum, +Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake; +I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return, +And with their faint reply this answer join; +Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. + +Exit + +Servant +Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The +devil knew not what he did when he made man +politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot +think but, in the end, the villainies of man will +set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to +appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked, +like those that under hot ardent zeal would set +whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his +politic love. +This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, +Save only the gods: now his friends are dead, +Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards +Many a bounteous year must be employ'd +Now to guard sure their master. +And this is all a liberal course allows; +Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out +Varro's + +First Servant +Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. + +TITUS +The like to you kind Varro. + +HORTENSIUS +Lucius! +What, do we meet together? +Lucilius' Servant Ay, and I think +One business does command us all; for mine Is money. + +TITUS +So is theirs and ours. + +Enter PHILOTUS + +Lucilius' Servant And Sir Philotus too! + +PHILOTUS +Good day at once. +Lucilius' Servant Welcome, good brother. +What do you think the hour? + +PHILOTUS +Labouring for nine. +Lucilius' Servant So much? + +PHILOTUS +Is not my lord seen yet? +Lucilius' Servant Not yet. + +PHILOTUS +I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him: +You must consider that a prodigal course +Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable. +I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse; +That is one may reach deep enough, and yet +Find little. + +PHILOTUS +I am of your fear for that. + +TITUS +I'll show you how to observe a strange event. +Your lord sends now for money. + +HORTENSIUS +Most true, he does. + +TITUS +And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, +For which I wait for money. + +HORTENSIUS +It is against my heart. +Lucilius' Servant Mark, how strange it shows, +Timon in this should pay more than he owes: +And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels, +And send for money for 'em. + +HORTENSIUS +I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness: +I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, +And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. +Varro's + +First Servant +Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand mine. +Varro's + +First Servant +'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun, +Your master's confidence was above mine; +Else, surely, his had equall'd. +Enter FLAMINIUS. + +TITUS +One of Lord Timon's men. +Lucilius' Servant Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to +come forth? + +FLAMINIUS +No, indeed, he is not. + +TITUS +We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. + +FLAMINIUS +I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent. + +Exit + +Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled + +Lucilius' Servant Ha! is not that his steward muffled so? +He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him. + +TITUS +Do you hear, sir? +Varro's + +Second Servant +By your leave, sir,-- + +FLAVIUS +What do ye ask of me, my friend? + +TITUS +We wait for certain money here, sir. + +FLAVIUS +Ay, +If money were as certain as your waiting, +'Twere sure enough. +Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills, +When your false masters eat of my lord's meat? +Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts +And take down the interest into their +gluttonous maws. +You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up; +Let me pass quietly: +Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end; +I have no more to reckon, he to spend. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but this answer will not serve. + +FLAVIUS +If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you; +For you serve knaves. + +Exit + +Varro's + +First Servant +How! what does his cashiered worship mutter? +Varro's + +Second Servant +No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge +enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no +house to put his head in? such may rail against +great buildings. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +TITUS +O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer. + +SERVILIUS +If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some +other hour, I should derive much from't; for, +take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to +discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him; +he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber. +Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick: +And, if it be so far beyond his health, +Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts, +And make a clear way to the gods. + +SERVILIUS +Good gods! + +TITUS +We cannot take this for answer, sir. + +FLAMINIUS +[Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! + +Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following + +TIMON +What, are my doors opposed against my passage? +Have I been ever free, and must my house +Be my retentive enemy, my gaol? +The place which I have feasted, does it now, +Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? +Lucilius' Servant Put in now, Titus. + +TITUS +My lord, here is my bill. +Lucilius' Servant Here's mine. + +HORTENSIUS +And mine, my lord. +Both +Varro's Servants And ours, my lord. + +PHILOTUS +All our bills. + +TIMON +Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle. +Lucilius' Servant Alas, my lord,- + +TIMON +Cut my heart in sums. + +TITUS +Mine, fifty talents. + +TIMON +Tell out my blood. +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand crowns, my lord. + +TIMON +Five thousand drops pays that. +What yours?--and yours? +Varro's + +First Servant +My lord,-- +Varro's + +Second Servant +My lord,-- + +TIMON +Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! + +Exit + +HORTENSIUS +'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps +at their money: these debts may well be called +desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. + +Exeunt + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +TIMON +They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. +Creditors? devils! + +FLAVIUS +My dear lord,-- + +TIMON +What if it should be so? + +FLAVIUS +My lord,-- + +TIMON +I'll have it so. My steward! + +FLAVIUS +Here, my lord. + +TIMON +So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, +Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: +All, sirrah, all: +I'll once more feast the rascals. + +FLAVIUS +O my lord, +You only speak from your distracted soul; +There is not so much left, to furnish out +A moderate table. + +TIMON +Be't not in thy care; go, +I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide +Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting. +First Senator +My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's +Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die: +Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. + +Second Senator +Most true; the law shall bruise him. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants + +ALCIBIADES +Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! + +First Senator +Now, captain? + +ALCIBIADES +I am an humble suitor to your virtues; +For pity is the virtue of the law, +And none but tyrants use it cruelly. +It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy +Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, +Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth +To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't. +He is a man, setting his fate aside, +Of comely virtues: +Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-- +An honour in him which buys out his fault-- +But with a noble fury and fair spirit, +Seeing his reputation touch'd to death, +He did oppose his foe: +And with such sober and unnoted passion +He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, +As if he had but proved an argument. + +First Senator +You undergo too strict a paradox, +Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: +Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd +To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling +Upon the head of valour; which indeed +Is valour misbegot and came into the world +When sects and factions were newly born: +He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer +The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs +His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, +carelessly, +And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, +To bring it into danger. +If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, +What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill! + +ALCIBIADES +My lord,-- + +First Senator +You cannot make gross sins look clear: +To revenge is no valour, but to bear. + +ALCIBIADES +My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, +If I speak like a captain. +Why do fond men expose themselves to battle, +And not endure all threats? sleep upon't, +And let the foes quietly cut their throats, +Without repugnancy? If there be +Such valour in the bearing, what make we +Abroad? why then, women are more valiant +That stay at home, if bearing carry it, +And the ass more captain than the lion, the felon +Loaden with irons wiser than the judge, +If wisdom be in suffering. O my lords, +As you are great, be pitifully good: +Who cannot condemn rashness in cold blood? +To kill, I grant, is sin's extremest gust; +But, in defence, by mercy, 'tis most just. +To be in anger is impiety; +But who is man that is not angry? +Weigh but the crime with this. + +Second Senator +You breathe in vain. + +ALCIBIADES +In vain! his service done +At Lacedaemon and Byzantium +Were a sufficient briber for his life. + +First Senator +What's that? + +ALCIBIADES +I say, my lords, he has done fair service, +And slain in fight many of your enemies: +How full of valour did he bear himself +In the last conflict, and made plenteous wounds! + +Second Senator +He has made too much plenty with 'em; +He's a sworn rioter: he has a sin that often +Drowns him, and takes his valour prisoner: +If there were no foes, that were enough +To overcome him: in that beastly fury +He has been known to commit outrages, +And cherish factions: 'tis inferr'd to us, +His days are foul and his drink dangerous. + +First Senator +He dies. + +ALCIBIADES +Hard fate! he might have died in war. +My lords, if not for any parts in him-- +Though his right arm might purchase his own time +And be in debt to none--yet, more to move you, +Take my deserts to his, and join 'em both: +And, for I know your reverend ages love +Security, I'll pawn my victories, all +My honours to you, upon his good returns. +If by this crime he owes the law his life, +Why, let the war receive 't in valiant gore +For law is strict, and war is nothing more. + +First Senator +We are for law: he dies; urge it no more, +On height of our displeasure: friend or brother, +He forfeits his own blood that spills another. + +ALCIBIADES +Must it be so? it must not be. My lords, +I do beseech you, know me. + +Second Senator +How! + +ALCIBIADES +Call me to your remembrances. + +Third Senator +What! + +ALCIBIADES +I cannot think but your age has forgot me; +It could not else be, I should prove so base, +To sue, and be denied such common grace: +My wounds ache at you. + +First Senator +Do you dare our anger? +'Tis in few words, but spacious in effect; +We banish thee for ever. + +ALCIBIADES +Banish me! +Banish your dotage; banish usury, +That makes the senate ugly. + +First Senator +If, after two days' shine, Athens contain thee, +Attend our weightier judgment. And, not to swell +our spirit, +He shall be executed presently. + +Exeunt Senators + +ALCIBIADES +Now the gods keep you old enough; that you may live +Only in bone, that none may look on you! +I'm worse than mad: I have kept back their foes, +While they have told their money and let out +Their coin upon large interest, I myself +Rich only in large hurts. All those for this? +Is this the balsam that the usuring senate +Pours into captains' wounds? Banishment! +It comes not ill; I hate not to be banish'd; +It is a cause worthy my spleen and fury, +That I may strike at Athens. I'll cheer up +My discontented troops, and lay for hearts. +'Tis honour with most lands to be at odds; +Soldiers should brook as little wrongs as gods. + +Exit + +SCENE VI. The same. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Music. Tables set out: Servants attending. Enter divers Lords, Senators and others, at several doors +First Lord +The good time of day to you, sir. + +Second Lord +I also wish it to you. I think this honourable lord +did but try us this other day. + +First Lord +Upon that were my thoughts tiring, when we +encountered: I hope it is not so low with him as +he made it seem in the trial of his several friends. + +Second Lord +It should not be, by the persuasion of his new feasting. + +First Lord +I should think so: he hath sent me an earnest +inviting, which many my near occasions did urge me +to put off; but he hath conjured me beyond them, and +I must needs appear. + +Second Lord +In like manner was I in debt to my importunate +business, but he would not hear my excuse. I am +sorry, when he sent to borrow of me, that my +provision was out. + +First Lord +I am sick of that grief too, as I understand how all +things go. + +Second Lord +Every man here's so. What would he have borrowed of +you? + +First Lord +A thousand pieces. + +Second Lord +A thousand pieces! + +First Lord +What of you? + +Second Lord +He sent to me, sir,--Here he comes. + +Enter TIMON and Attendants + +TIMON +With all my heart, gentlemen both; and how fare you? + +First Lord +Ever at the best, hearing well of your lordship. + +Second Lord +The swallow follows not summer more willing than we +your lordship. + +TIMON +[Aside] Nor more willingly leaves winter; such +summer-birds are men. Gentlemen, our dinner will not +recompense this long stay: feast your ears with the +music awhile, if they will fare so harshly o' the +trumpet's sound; we shall to 't presently. + +First Lord +I hope it remains not unkindly with your lordship +that I returned you an empty messenger. + +TIMON +O, sir, let it not trouble you. + +Second Lord +My noble lord,-- + +TIMON +Ah, my good friend, what cheer? + +Second Lord +My most honourable lord, I am e'en sick of shame, +that, when your lordship this other day sent to me, +I was so unfortunate a beggar. + +TIMON +Think not on 't, sir. + +Second Lord +If you had sent but two hours before,-- + +TIMON +Let it not cumber your better remembrance. + +The banquet brought in + +Come, bring in all together. + +Second Lord +All covered dishes! + +First Lord +Royal cheer, I warrant you. + +Third Lord +Doubt not that, if money and the season can yield +it. + +First Lord +How do you? What's the news? + +Third Lord +Alcibiades is banished: hear you of it? + +First Lord Second Lord +Alcibiades banished! + +Third Lord +'Tis so, be sure of it. + +First Lord +How! how! + +Second Lord +I pray you, upon what? + +TIMON +My worthy friends, will you draw near? + +Third Lord +I'll tell you more anon. Here's a noble feast toward. + +Second Lord +This is the old man still. + +Third Lord +Will 't hold? will 't hold? + +Second Lord +It does: but time will--and so-- + +Third Lord +I do conceive. + +TIMON +Each man to his stool, with that spur as he would to +the lip of his mistress: your diet shall be in all +places alike. Make not a city feast of it, to let +the meat cool ere we can agree upon the first place: +sit, sit. The gods require our thanks. +You great benefactors, sprinkle our society with +thankfulness. For your own gifts, make yourselves +praised: but reserve still to give, lest your +deities be despised. Lend to each man enough, that +one need not lend to another; for, were your +godheads to borrow of men, men would forsake the +gods. Make the meat be beloved more than the man +that gives it. Let no assembly of twenty be without +a score of villains: if there sit twelve women at +the table, let a dozen of them be--as they are. The +rest of your fees, O gods--the senators of Athens, +together with the common lag of people--what is +amiss in them, you gods, make suitable for +destruction. For these my present friends, as they +are to me nothing, so in nothing bless them, and to +nothing are they welcome. +Uncover, dogs, and lap. + +The dishes are uncovered and seen to be full of warm water + +Some Speak +What does his lordship mean? + +Some Others +I know not. + +TIMON +May you a better feast never behold, +You knot of mouth-friends I smoke and lukewarm water +Is your perfection. This is Timon's last; +Who, stuck and spangled with your flatteries, +Washes it off, and sprinkles in your faces +Your reeking villany. + +Throwing the water in their faces + +Live loathed and long, +Most smiling, smooth, detested parasites, +Courteous destroyers, affable wolves, meek bears, +You fools of fortune, trencher-friends, time's flies, +Cap and knee slaves, vapours, and minute-jacks! +Of man and beast the infinite malady +Crust you quite o'er! What, dost thou go? +Soft! take thy physic first--thou too--and thou;-- +Stay, I will lend thee money, borrow none. + +Throws the dishes at them, and drives them out + +What, all in motion? Henceforth be no feast, +Whereat a villain's not a welcome guest. +Burn, house! sink, Athens! henceforth hated be +Of Timon man and all humanity! + +Exit + +Re-enter the Lords, Senators, & c + +First Lord +How now, my lords! + +Second Lord +Know you the quality of Lord Timon's fury? + +Third Lord +Push! did you see my cap? + +Fourth Lord +I have lost my gown. + +First Lord +He's but a mad lord, and nought but humour sways him. +He gave me a jewel th' other day, and now he has +beat it out of my hat: did you see my jewel? + +Third Lord +Did you see my cap? + +Second Lord +Here 'tis. + +Fourth Lord +Here lies my gown. + +First Lord +Let's make no stay. + +Second Lord +Lord Timon's mad. + +Third Lord +I feel 't upon my bones. + +Fourth Lord +One day he gives us diamonds, next day stones. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens. + +Enter TIMON +TIMON +Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, +That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, +And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! +Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, +Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, +And minister in their steads! to general filths +Convert o' the instant, green virginity, +Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; +Rather than render back, out with your knives, +And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! +Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, +And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; +Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, +pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, +With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, +Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, +Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, +Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, +Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, +Decline to your confounding contraries, +And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, +Your potent and infectious fevers heap +On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, +Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt +As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty +Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, +That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, +And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, +Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop +Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, +at their society, as their friendship, may +merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, +But nakedness, thou detestable town! +Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! +Timon will to the woods; where he shall find +The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. +The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all-- +The Athenians both within and out that wall! +And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow +To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants +First Servant +Hear you, master steward, where's our master? +Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining? + +FLAVIUS +Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? +Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, +I am as poor as you. + +First Servant +Such a house broke! +So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not +One friend to take his fortune by the arm, +And go along with him! + +Second Servant +As we do turn our backs +From our companion thrown into his grave, +So his familiars to his buried fortunes +Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, +Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self, +A dedicated beggar to the air, +With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, +Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows. + +Enter other Servants + +FLAVIUS +All broken implements of a ruin'd house. + +Third Servant +Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery; +That see I by our faces; we are fellows still, +Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark, +And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, +Hearing the surges threat: we must all part +Into this sea of air. + +FLAVIUS +Good fellows all, +The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. +Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake, +Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say, +As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes, +'We have seen better days.' Let each take some; +Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: +Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. + +Servants embrace, and part several ways + +O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! +Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, +Since riches point to misery and contempt? +Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live +But in a dream of friendship? +To have his pomp and all what state compounds +But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? +Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, +Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood, +When man's worst sin is, he does too much good! +Who, then, dares to be half so kind again? +For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. +My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed, +Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes +Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! +He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat +Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to +Supply his life, or that which can command it. +I'll follow and inquire him out: +I'll ever serve his mind with my best will; +Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore. + +Enter TIMON, from the cave +O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth +Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb +Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb, +Whose procreation, residence, and birth, +Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes; +The greater scorns the lesser: not nature, +To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, +But by contempt of nature. +Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; +The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, +The beggar native honour. +It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, +The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, +In purity of manhood stand upright, +And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be, +So are they all; for every grise of fortune +Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate +Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique; +There's nothing level in our cursed natures, +But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd +All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! +His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: +Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! + +Digging + +Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate +With thy most operant poison! What is here? +Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, +I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! +Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, +Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. +Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this +Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, +Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: +This yellow slave +Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed, +Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves +And give them title, knee and approbation +With senators on the bench: this is it +That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; +She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores +Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices +To the April day again. Come, damned earth, +Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds +Among the route of nations, I will make thee +Do thy right nature. + +March afar off + +Ha! a drum ? Thou'rt quick, +But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, +When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. +Nay, stay thou out for earnest. + +Keeping some gold + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA + +ALCIBIADES +What art thou there? speak. + +TIMON +A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, +For showing me again the eyes of man! + +ALCIBIADES +What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, +That art thyself a man? + +TIMON +I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. +For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, +That I might love thee something. + +ALCIBIADES +I know thee well; +But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. + +TIMON +I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, +I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; +With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules: +Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; +Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine +Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, +For all her cherubim look. + +PHRYNIA +Thy lips rot off! + +TIMON +I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns +To thine own lips again. + +ALCIBIADES +How came the noble Timon to this change? + +TIMON +As the moon does, by wanting light to give: +But then renew I could not, like the moon; +There were no suns to borrow of. + +ALCIBIADES +Noble Timon, +What friendship may I do thee? + +TIMON +None, but to +Maintain my opinion. + +ALCIBIADES +What is it, Timon? + +TIMON +Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou +wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art +a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for +thou art a man! + +ALCIBIADES +I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. + +TIMON +Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. + +ALCIBIADES +I see them now; then was a blessed time. + +TIMON +As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. + +TIMANDRA +Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world +Voiced so regardfully? + +TIMON +Art thou Timandra? + +TIMANDRA +Yes. + +TIMON +Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; +Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. +Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves +For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth +To the tub-fast and the diet. + +TIMANDRA +Hang thee, monster! + +ALCIBIADES +Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits +Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. +I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, +The want whereof doth daily make revolt +In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved, +How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, +Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, +But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-- + +TIMON +I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. + +ALCIBIADES +I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. + +TIMON +How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? +I had rather be alone. + +ALCIBIADES +Why, fare thee well: +Here is some gold for thee. + +TIMON +Keep it, I cannot eat it. + +ALCIBIADES +When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-- + +TIMON +Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, Timon, and have cause. + +TIMON +The gods confound them all in thy conquest; +And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! + +ALCIBIADES +Why me, Timon? + +TIMON +That, by killing of villains, +Thou wast born to conquer my country. +Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; +Be as a planetary plague, when Jove +Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison +In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: +Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; +He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; +It is her habit only that is honest, +Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek +Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, +That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, +Are not within the leaf of pity writ, +But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, +Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; +Think it a bastard, whom the oracle +Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, +And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; +Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; +Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, +Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, +Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: +Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, +Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. + +ALCIBIADES +Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou +givest me, +Not all thy counsel. + +TIMON +Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse +upon thee! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? + +TIMON +Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, +And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, +Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable, +Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear +Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues +The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths, +I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still; +And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, +Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; +Let your close fire predominate his smoke, +And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months, +Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs +With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, +No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still; +Paint till a horse may mire upon your face, +A pox of wrinkles! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Well, more gold: what then? +Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. + +TIMON +Consumptions sow +In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, +And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, +That he may never more false title plead, +Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, +That scolds against the quality of flesh, +And not believes himself: down with the nose, +Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away +Of him that, his particular to foresee, +Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate +ruffians bald; +And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war +Derive some pain from you: plague all; +That your activity may defeat and quell +The source of all erection. There's more gold: +Do you damn others, and let this damn you, +And ditches grave you all! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. + +TIMON +More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. + +ALCIBIADES +Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: +If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. + +TIMON +If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. + +ALCIBIADES +I never did thee harm. + +TIMON +Yes, thou spokest well of me. + +ALCIBIADES +Call'st thou that harm? + +TIMON +Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take +Thy beagles with thee. + +ALCIBIADES +We but offend him. Strike! + +Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA + +TIMON +That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, +Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, + +Digging + +Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, +Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, +Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd, +Engenders the black toad and adder blue, +The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm, +With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven +Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; +Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, +From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! +Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, +Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! +Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; +Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face +Hath to the marbled mansion all above +Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!-- +Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; +Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts +And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, +That from it all consideration slips! + +Enter APEMANTUS + +More man? plague, plague! + +APEMANTUS +I was directed hither: men report +Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. + +TIMON +'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, +Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee! + +APEMANTUS +This is in thee a nature but infected; +A poor unmanly melancholy sprung +From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place? +This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? +Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; +Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot +That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, +By putting on the cunning of a carper. +Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive +By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, +And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, +Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, +And call it excellent: thou wast told thus; +Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome +To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just +That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, +Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. + +TIMON +Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself. + +APEMANTUS +Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; +A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st +That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, +Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees, +That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, +And skip where thou point'st out? will the +cold brook, +Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, +To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures +Whose naked natures live in an the spite +Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, +To the conflicting elements exposed, +Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; +O, thou shalt find-- + +TIMON +A fool of thee: depart. + +APEMANTUS +I love thee better now than e'er I did. + +TIMON +I hate thee worse. + +APEMANTUS +Why? + +TIMON +Thou flatter'st misery. + +APEMANTUS +I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff. + +TIMON +Why dost thou seek me out? + +APEMANTUS +To vex thee. + +TIMON +Always a villain's office or a fool's. +Dost please thyself in't? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +What! a knave too? + +APEMANTUS +If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on +To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou +Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, +Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery +Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before: +The one is filling still, never complete; +The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, +Hath a distracted and most wretched being, +Worse than the worst, content. +Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. + +TIMON +Not by his breath that is more miserable. +Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm +With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog. +Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded +The sweet degrees that this brief world affords +To such as may the passive drugs of it +Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself +In general riot; melted down thy youth +In different beds of lust; and never learn'd +The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd +The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, +Who had the world as my confectionary, +The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men +At duty, more than I could frame employment, +That numberless upon me stuck as leaves +Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush +Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare +For every storm that blows: I, to bear this, +That never knew but better, is some burden: +Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time +Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? +They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? +If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, +Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff +To some she beggar and compounded thee +Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone! +If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, +Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. + +APEMANTUS +Art thou proud yet? + +TIMON +Ay, that I am not thee. + +APEMANTUS +I, that I was +No prodigal. + +TIMON +I, that I am one now: +Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, +I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. +That the whole life of Athens were in this! +Thus would I eat it. + +Eating a root + +APEMANTUS +Here; I will mend thy feast. + +Offering him a root + +TIMON +First mend my company, take away thyself. + +APEMANTUS +So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. + +TIMON +'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; +if not, I would it were. + +APEMANTUS +What wouldst thou have to Athens? + +TIMON +Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, +Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. + +APEMANTUS +Here is no use for gold. + +TIMON +The best and truest; +For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. + +APEMANTUS +Where liest o' nights, Timon? + +TIMON +Under that's above me. +Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat +it. + +TIMON +Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! + +APEMANTUS +Where wouldst thou send it? + +TIMON +To sauce thy dishes. + +APEMANTUS +The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the +extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt +and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much +curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art +despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for +thee, eat it. + +TIMON +On what I hate I feed not. + +APEMANTUS +Dost hate a medlar? + +TIMON +Ay, though it look like thee. + +APEMANTUS +An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst +have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou +ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? + +TIMON +Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou +ever know beloved? + +APEMANTUS +Myself. + +TIMON +I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a +dog. + +APEMANTUS +What things in the world canst thou nearest compare +to thy flatterers? + +TIMON +Women nearest; but men, men are the things +themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, +Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? + +APEMANTUS +Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. + +TIMON +Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of +men, and remain a beast with the beasts? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, Timon. + +TIMON +A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' +attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would +beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would +eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would +suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by +the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would +torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a +breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy +greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst +hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the +unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and +make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert +thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse: +wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the +leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to +the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on +thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy +defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that +were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art +thou already, that seest not thy loss in +transformation! + +APEMANTUS +If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou +mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of +Athens is become a forest of beasts. + +TIMON +How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? + +APEMANTUS +Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of +company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it +and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll +see thee again. + +TIMON +When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be +welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. + +TIMON +Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! + +APEMANTUS +A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse. + +TIMON +All villains that do stand by thee are pure. + +APEMANTUS +There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. + +TIMON +If I name thee. +I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. + +APEMANTUS +I would my tongue could rot them off! + +TIMON +Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! +Choler does kill me that thou art alive; +I swound to see thee. + +APEMANTUS +Would thou wouldst burst! + +TIMON +Away, +Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose +A stone by thee. + +Throws a stone at him + +APEMANTUS +Beast! + +TIMON +Slave! + +APEMANTUS +Toad! + +TIMON +Rogue, rogue, rogue! +I am sick of this false world, and will love nought +But even the mere necessities upon 't. +Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; +Lie where the light foam the sea may beat +Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, +That death in me at others' lives may laugh. + +To the gold + +O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce +'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler +Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! +Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, +Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow +That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, +That solder'st close impossibilities, +And makest them kiss! that speak'st with +every tongue, +To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! +Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue +Set them into confounding odds, that beasts +May have the world in empire! + +APEMANTUS +Would 'twere so! +But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold: +Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. + +TIMON +Throng'd to! + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Thy back, I prithee. + +APEMANTUS +Live, and love thy misery. + +TIMON +Long live so, and so die. + +Exit APEMANTUS + +I am quit. +Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. + +Enter Banditti + +First Bandit +Where should he have this gold? It is some poor +fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the +mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his +friends, drove him into this melancholy. + +Second Bandit +It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. + +Third Bandit +Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not +for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously +reserve it, how shall's get it? + +Second Bandit +True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. + +First Bandit +Is not this he? + +Banditti +Where? + +Second Bandit +'Tis his description. + +Third Bandit +He; I know him. + +Banditti +Save thee, Timon. + +TIMON +Now, thieves? + +Banditti +Soldiers, not thieves. + +TIMON +Both too; and women's sons. + +Banditti +We are not thieves, but men that much do want. + +TIMON +Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. +Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; +Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; +The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; +The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush +Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? + +First Bandit +We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, +As beasts and birds and fishes. + +TIMON +Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; +You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con +That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not +In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft +In limited professions. Rascal thieves, +Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, +Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, +And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; +His antidotes are poison, and he slays +Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; +Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, +Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. +The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction +Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, +And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: +The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves +The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, +That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen +From general excrement: each thing's a thief: +The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power +Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, +Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: +All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, +Break open shops; nothing can you steal, +But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this +I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. + +Third Bandit +Has almost charmed me from my profession, by +persuading me to it. + +First Bandit +'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises +us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. + +Second Bandit +I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. + +First Bandit +Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time +so miserable but a man may be true. + +Exeunt Banditti + +Enter FLAVIUS + +FLAVIUS +O you gods! +Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? +Full of decay and failing? O monument +And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! +What an alteration of honour +Has desperate want made! +What viler thing upon the earth than friends +Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! +How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, +When man was wish'd to love his enemies! +Grant I may ever love, and rather woo +Those that would mischief me than those that do! +Has caught me in his eye: I will present +My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, +Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! + +TIMON +Away! what art thou? + +FLAVIUS +Have you forgot me, sir? + +TIMON +Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; +Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. + +FLAVIUS +An honest poor servant of yours. + +TIMON +Then I know thee not: +I never had honest man about me, I; all +I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. + +FLAVIUS +The gods are witness, +Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief +For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. + +TIMON +What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I +love thee, +Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st +Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give +But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: +Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! + +FLAVIUS +I beg of you to know me, good my lord, +To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts +To entertain me as your steward still. + +TIMON +Had I a steward +So true, so just, and now so comfortable? +It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. +Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man +Was born of woman. +Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, +You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim +One honest man--mistake me not--but one; +No more, I pray,--and he's a steward. +How fain would I have hated all mankind! +And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, +I fell with curses. +Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; +For, by oppressing and betraying me, +Thou mightst have sooner got another service: +For many so arrive at second masters, +Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- +For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- +Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, +If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, +Expecting in return twenty for one? + +FLAVIUS +No, my most worthy master; in whose breast +Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: +You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: +Suspect still comes where an estate is least. +That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, +Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, +Care of your food and living; and, believe it, +My most honour'd lord, +For any benefit that points to me, +Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange +For this one wish, that you had power and wealth +To requite me, by making rich yourself. + +TIMON +Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, +Here, take: the gods out of my misery +Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; +But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; +Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, +But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, +Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs +What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, +Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like +blasted woods, +And may diseases lick up their false bloods! +And so farewell and thrive. + +FLAVIUS +O, let me stay, +And comfort you, my master. + +TIMON +If thou hatest curses, +Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free: +Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. + +Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave. + +Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave +Painter +As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where +he abides. + +Poet +What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold +for true, that he's so full of gold? + +Painter +Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and +Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor +straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said +he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. + +Poet +Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. + +Painter +Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens +again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore +'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this +supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in +us; and is very likely to load our purposes with +what they travail for, if it be a just true report +that goes of his having. + +Poet +What have you now to present unto him? + +Painter +Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will +promise him an excellent piece. + +Poet +I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent +that's coming toward him. + +Painter +Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the +time: it opens the eyes of expectation: +performance is ever the duller for his act; and, +but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the +deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is +most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind +of will or testament which argues a great sickness +in his judgment that makes it. + +TIMON comes from his cave, behind + +TIMON +[Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a +man so bad as is thyself. + +Poet +I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for +him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire +against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery +of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency. + +TIMON +[Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in +thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in +other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. + +Poet +Nay, let's seek him: +Then do we sin against our own estate, +When we may profit meet, and come too late. + +Painter +True; +When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, +Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. + +TIMON +[Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a +god's gold, +That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple +Than where swine feed! +'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam, +Settlest admired reverence in a slave: +To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye +Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey! +Fit I meet them. + +Coming forward + +Poet +Hail, worthy Timon! + +Painter +Our late noble master! + +TIMON +Have I once lived to see two honest men? + +Poet +Sir, +Having often of your open bounty tasted, +Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off, +Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!-- +Not all the whips of heaven are large enough: +What! to you, +Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence +To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover +The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude +With any size of words. + +TIMON +Let it go naked, men may see't the better: +You that are honest, by being what you are, +Make them best seen and known. + +Painter +He and myself +Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts, +And sweetly felt it. + +TIMON +Ay, you are honest men. + +Painter +We are hither come to offer you our service. + +TIMON +Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? +Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. + +Both +What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. + +TIMON +Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold; +I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. + +Painter +So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore +Came not my friend nor I. + +TIMON +Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit +Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best; +Thou counterfeit'st most lively. + +Painter +So, so, my lord. + +TIMON +E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction, +Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth +That thou art even natural in thine art. +But, for all this, my honest-natured friends, +I must needs say you have a little fault: +Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I +You take much pains to mend. + +Both +Beseech your honour +To make it known to us. + +TIMON +You'll take it ill. + +Both +Most thankfully, my lord. + +TIMON +Will you, indeed? + +Both +Doubt it not, worthy lord. + +TIMON +There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, +That mightily deceives you. + +Both +Do we, my lord? + +TIMON +Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, +Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, +Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured +That he's a made-up villain. + +Painter +I know none such, my lord. + +Poet +Nor I. + +TIMON +Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, +Rid me these villains from your companies: +Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught, +Confound them by some course, and come to me, +I'll give you gold enough. + +Both +Name them, my lord, let's know them. + +TIMON +You that way and you this, but two in company; +Each man apart, all single and alone, +Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. +If where thou art two villains shall not be, +Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside +But where one villain is, then him abandon. +Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves: + +To Painter + +You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence! + +To Poet + +You are an alchemist; make gold of that. +Out, rascal dogs! + +Beats them out, and then retires to his cave + +Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators + +FLAVIUS +It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; +For he is set so only to himself +That nothing but himself which looks like man +Is friendly with him. + +First Senator +Bring us to his cave: +It is our part and promise to the Athenians +To speak with Timon. + +Second Senator +At all times alike +Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs +That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand, +Offering the fortunes of his former days, +The former man may make him. Bring us to him, +And chance it as it may. + +FLAVIUS +Here is his cave. +Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! +Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, +By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: +Speak to them, noble Timon. + +TIMON comes from his cave + +TIMON +Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and +be hang'd: +For each true word, a blister! and each false +Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue, +Consuming it with speaking! + +First Senator +Worthy Timon,-- + +TIMON +Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. + +First Senator +The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. + +TIMON +I thank them; and would send them back the plague, +Could I but catch it for them. + +First Senator +O, forget +What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. +The senators with one consent of love +Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought +On special dignities, which vacant lie +For thy best use and wearing. + +Second Senator +They confess +Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross: +Which now the public body, which doth seldom +Play the recanter, feeling in itself +A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal +Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon; +And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render, +Together with a recompense more fruitful +Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; +Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth +As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs +And write in thee the figures of their love, +Ever to read them thine. + +TIMON +You witch me in it; +Surprise me to the very brink of tears: +Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, +And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. + +First Senator +Therefore, so please thee to return with us +And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take +The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, +Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name +Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back +Of Alcibiades the approaches wild, +Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up +His country's peace. + +Second Senator +And shakes his threatening sword +Against the walls of Athens. + +First Senator +Therefore, Timon,-- + +TIMON +Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: +If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, +Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, +That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens, +And take our goodly aged men by the beards, +Giving our holy virgins to the stain +Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war, +Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it, +In pity of our aged and our youth, +I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, +And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, +While you have throats to answer: for myself, +There's not a whittle in the unruly camp +But I do prize it at my love before +The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you +To the protection of the prosperous gods, +As thieves to keepers. + +FLAVIUS +Stay not, all's in vain. + +TIMON +Why, I was writing of my epitaph; +it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness +Of health and living now begins to mend, +And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; +Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, +And last so long enough! + +First Senator +We speak in vain. + +TIMON +But yet I love my country, and am not +One that rejoices in the common wreck, +As common bruit doth put it. + +First Senator +That's well spoke. + +TIMON +Commend me to my loving countrymen,-- + +First Senator +These words become your lips as they pass +thorough them. + +Second Senator +And enter in our ears like great triumphers +In their applauding gates. + +TIMON +Commend me to them, +And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, +Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, +Their pangs of love, with other incident throes +That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain +In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: +I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. + +First Senator +I like this well; he will return again. + +TIMON +I have a tree, which grows here in my close, +That mine own use invites me to cut down, +And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends, +Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree +From high to low throughout, that whoso please +To stop affliction, let him take his haste, +Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, +And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. + +FLAVIUS +Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him. + +TIMON +Come not to me again: but say to Athens, +Timon hath made his everlasting mansion +Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; +Who once a day with his embossed froth +The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, +And let my grave-stone be your oracle. +Lips, let sour words go by and language end: +What is amiss plague and infection mend! +Graves only be men's works and death their gain! +Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. + +Retires to his cave + +First Senator +His discontents are unremoveably +Coupled to nature. + +Second Senator +Our hope in him is dead: let us return, +And strain what other means is left unto us +In our dear peril. + +First Senator +It requires swift foot. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. + +Enter two Senators and a Messenger +First Senator +Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files +As full as thy report? + +Messenger +have spoke the least: +Besides, his expedition promises +Present approach. + +Second Senator +We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. + +Messenger +I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; +Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force, +And made us speak like friends: this man was riding +From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, +With letters of entreaty, which imported +His fellowship i' the cause against your city, +In part for his sake moved. + +First Senator +Here come our brothers. + +Enter the Senators from TIMON + +Third Senator +No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. +The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring +Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: +Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen. + +Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON +Soldier +By all description this should be the place. +Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this? +Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: +Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. +Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb +I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: +Our captain hath in every figure skill, +An aged interpreter, though young in days: +Before proud Athens he's set down by this, +Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens. + +Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers +ALCIBIADES +Sound to this coward and lascivious town +Our terrible approach. + +A parley sounded + +Enter Senators on the walls + +Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time +With all licentious measure, making your wills +The scope of justice; till now myself and such +As slept within the shadow of your power +Hav e wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed +Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush, +When crouching marrow in the bearer strong +Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong +Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, +And pursy insolence shall break his wind +With fear and horrid flight. + +First Senator +Noble and young, +When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, +Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, +We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm, +To wipe out our ingratitude with loves +Above their quantity. + +Second Senator +So did we woo +Transformed Timon to our city's love +By humble message and by promised means: +We were not all unkind, nor all deserve +The common stroke of war. + +First Senator +These walls of ours +Were not erected by their hands from whom +You have received your griefs; nor are they such +That these great towers, trophies and schools +should fall +For private faults in them. + +Second Senator +Nor are they living +Who were the motives that you first went out; +Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess +Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, +Into our city with thy banners spread: +By decimation, and a tithed death-- +If thy revenges hunger for that food +Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth, +And by the hazard of the spotted die +Let die the spotted. + +First Senator +All have not offended; +For those that were, it is not square to take +On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, +Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, +Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage: +Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin +Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall +With those that have offended: like a shepherd, +Approach the fold and cull the infected forth, +But kill not all together. + +Second Senator +What thou wilt, +Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile +Than hew to't with thy sword. + +First Senator +Set but thy foot +Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope; +So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, +To say thou'lt enter friendly. + +Second Senator +Throw thy glove, +Or any token of thine honour else, +That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress +And not as our confusion, all thy powers +Shall make their harbour in our town, till we +Have seal'd thy full desire. + +ALCIBIADES +Then there's my glove; +Descend, and open your uncharged ports: +Those enemies of Timon's and mine own +Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof +Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears +With my more noble meaning, not a man +Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream +Of regular justice in your city's bounds, +But shall be render'd to your public laws +At heaviest answer. + +Both +'Tis most nobly spoken. + +ALCIBIADES +Descend, and keep your words. + +The Senators descend, and open the gates + +Enter Soldier + +Soldier +My noble general, Timon is dead; +Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; +And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which +With wax I brought away, whose soft impression +Interprets for my poor ignorance. + +ALCIBIADES +[Reads the epitaph] 'Here lies a +wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: +Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked +caitiffs left! +Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: +Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay +not here thy gait.' +These well express in thee thy latter spirits: +Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, +Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our +droplets which +From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit +Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye +On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead +Is noble Timon: of whose memory +Hereafter more. Bring me into your city, +And I will use the olive with my sword, +Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each +Prescribe to other as each other's leech. +Let our drums strike. + +Exeunt +Titus Andronicus +Shakespeare homepage | Titus Andronicus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol. + +The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours +SATURNINUS +Noble patricians, patrons of my right, +Defend the justice of my cause with arms, +And, countrymen, my loving followers, +Plead my successive title with your swords: +I am his first-born son, that was the last +That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; +Then let my father's honours live in me, +Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + +BASSIANUS +Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, +If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, +Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, +Keep then this passage to the Capitol +And suffer not dishonour to approach +The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, +To justice, continence and nobility; +But let desert in pure election shine, +And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. + +Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Princes, that strive by factions and by friends +Ambitiously for rule and empery, +Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand +A special party, have, by common voice, +In election for the Roman empery, +Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius +For many good and great deserts to Rome: +A nobler man, a braver warrior, +Lives not this day within the city walls: +He by the senate is accit'd home +From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; +That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, +Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms. +Ten years are spent since first he undertook +This cause of Rome and chastised with arms +Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd +Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons +In coffins from the field; +And now at last, laden with horror's spoils, +Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, +Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. +Let us entreat, by honour of his name, +Whom worthily you would have now succeed. +And in the Capitol and senate's right, +Whom you pretend to honour and adore, +That you withdraw you and abate your strength; +Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, +Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + +SATURNINUS +How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! + +BASSIANUS +Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally +In thy uprightness and integrity, +And so I love and honour thee and thine, +Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, +And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, +Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, +That I will here dismiss my loving friends, +And to my fortunes and the people's favor +Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. + +Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS + +SATURNINUS +Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, +I thank you all and here dismiss you all, +And to the love and favor of my country +Commit myself, my person and the cause. + +Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS + +Rome, be as just and gracious unto me +As I am confident and kind to thee. +Open the gates, and let me in. + +BASSIANUS +Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol + +Enter a Captain + +Captain +Romans, make way: the good Andronicus. +Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, +Successful in the battles that he fights, +With honour and with fortune is return'd +From where he circumscribed with his sword, +And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. + +Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! +Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught, +Returns with precious jading to the bay +From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, +Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, +To re-salute his country with his tears, +Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. +Thou great defender of this Capitol, +Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! +Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, +Half of the number that King Priam had, +Behold the poor remains, alive and dead! +These that survive let Rome reward with love; +These that I bring unto their latest home, +With burial amongst their ancestors: +Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. +Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, +Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, +To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? +Make way to lay them by their brethren. + +The tomb is opened + +There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, +And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars! +O sacred receptacle of my joys, +Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, +How many sons of mine hast thou in store, +That thou wilt never render to me more! + +LUCIUS +Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, +That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile +Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, +Before this earthy prison of their bones; +That so the shadows be not unappeased, +Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I give him you, the noblest that survives, +The eldest son of this distressed queen. + +TAMORA +Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror, +Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, +A mother's tears in passion for her son: +And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, +O, think my son to be as dear to me! +Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome, +To beautify thy triumphs and return, +Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, +But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets, +For valiant doings in their country's cause? +O, if to fight for king and commonweal +Were piety in thine, it is in these. +Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood: +Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? +Draw near them then in being merciful: +Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge: +Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. +These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld +Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain +Religiously they ask a sacrifice: +To this your son is mark'd, and die he must, +To appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + +LUCIUS +Away with him! and make a fire straight; +And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, +Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS + +TAMORA +O cruel, irreligious piety! + +CHIRON +Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? + +DEMETRIUS +Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. +Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive +To tremble under Titus' threatening looks. +Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal +The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy +With opportunity of sharp revenge +Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, +May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths-- +When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-- +To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + +Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with their swords bloody + +LUCIUS +See, lord and father, how we have perform'd +Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, +And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, +Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. +Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren, +And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Let it be so; and let Andronicus +Make this his latest farewell to their souls. + +Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb + +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; +Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, +Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! +Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, +Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, +No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! + +Enter LAVINIA + +LAVINIA +In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; +My noble lord and father, live in fame! +Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears +I render, for my brethren's obsequies; +And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy, +Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome: +O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, +Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved +The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! +Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days, +And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! + +Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes; re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, +Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, +You that survive, and you that sleep in fame! +Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, +That in your country's service drew your swords: +But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, +That hath aspired to Solon's happiness +And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. +Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, +Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, +Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, +This palliament of white and spotless hue; +And name thee in election for the empire, +With these our late-deceased emperor's sons: +Be candidatus then, and put it on, +And help to set a head on headless Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +A better head her glorious body fits +Than his that shakes for age and feebleness: +What should I don this robe, and trouble you? +Be chosen with proclamations to-day, +To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, +And set abroad new business for you all? +Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, +And led my country's strength successfully, +And buried one and twenty valiant sons, +Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, +In right and service of their noble country +Give me a staff of honour for mine age, +But not a sceptre to control the world: +Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + +SATURNINUS +Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, Prince Saturninus. + +SATURNINUS +Romans, do me right: +Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not +Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. +Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell, +Rather than rob me of the people's hearts! + +LUCIUS +Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good +That noble-minded Titus means to thee! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee +The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. + +BASSIANUS +Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, +But honour thee, and will do till I die: +My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, +I will most thankful be; and thanks to men +Of noble minds is honourable meed. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, +I ask your voices and your suffrages: +Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + +Tribunes +To gratify the good Andronicus, +And gratulate his safe return to Rome, +The people will accept whom he admits. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make, +That you create your emperor's eldest son, +Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, +Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth, +And ripen justice in this commonweal: +Then, if you will elect by my advice, +Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!' + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +With voices and applause of every sort, +Patricians and plebeians, we create +Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, +And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!' + +A long flourish till they come down + +SATURNINUS +Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done +To us in our election this day, +I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, +And will with deeds requite thy gentleness: +And, for an onset, Titus, to advance +Thy name and honourable family, +Lavinia will I make my empress, +Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, +And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse: +Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match +I hold me highly honour'd of your grace: +And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, +King and commander of our commonweal, +The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate +My sword, my chariot and my prisoners; +Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord: +Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, +Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life! +How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts +Rome shall record, and when I do forget +The least of these unspeakable deserts, +Romans, forget your fealty to me. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +[To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to +an emperor; +To him that, for your honour and your state, +Will use you nobly and your followers. + +SATURNINUS +A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue +That I would choose, were I to choose anew. +Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance: +Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, +Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome: +Princely shall be thy usage every way. +Rest on my word, and let not discontent +Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you +Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. +Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? + +LAVINIA +Not I, my lord; sith true nobility +Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go; +Ransomless here we set our prisoners free: +Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show + +BASSIANUS +Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + +Seizing LAVINIA + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord? + +BASSIANUS +Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal +To do myself this reason and this right. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice: +This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + +LUCIUS +And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard? +Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised! + +SATURNINUS +Surprised! by whom? + +BASSIANUS +By him that justly may +Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. + +Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA + +MUTIUS +Brothers, help to convey her hence away, +And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. + +MUTIUS +My lord, you pass not here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, villain boy! +Barr'st me my way in Rome? + +Stabbing MUTIUS + +MUTIUS +Help, Lucius, help! + +Dies + +During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so, +In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine; +My sons would never so dishonour me: +Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor. + +LUCIUS +Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, +That is another's lawful promised love. + +Exit + +SATURNINUS +No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, +Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: +I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; +Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, +Confederates all thus to dishonour me. +Was there none else in Rome to make a stale, +But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, +Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine, +That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O monstrous! what reproachful words are these? + +SATURNINUS +But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece +To him that flourish'd for her with his sword +A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy; +One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, +To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +These words are razors to my wounded heart. + +SATURNINUS +And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths, +That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs +Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome, +If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, +Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, +And will create thee empress of Rome, +Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? +And here I swear by all the Roman gods, +Sith priest and holy water are so near +And tapers burn so bright and every thing +In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, +I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, +Or climb my palace, till from forth this place +I lead espoused my bride along with me. + +TAMORA +And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear, +If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, +She will a handmaid be to his desires, +A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. + +SATURNINUS +Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany +Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, +Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, +Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered: +There shall we consummate our spousal rites. + +Exeunt all but TITUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I am not bid to wait upon this bride. +Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, +Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs? + +Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! +In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, +Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed +That hath dishonour'd all our family; +Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons! + +LUCIUS +But let us give him burial, as becomes; +Give Mutius burial with our brethren. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb: +This monument five hundred years hath stood, +Which I have sumptuously re-edified: +Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors +Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls: +Bury him where you can; he comes not here. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, this is impiety in you: +My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him +He must be buried with his brethren. + +QUINTUS MARTIUS +And shall, or him we will accompany. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +'And shall!' what villain was it that spake +that word? + +QUINTUS +He that would vouch it in any place but here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, would you bury him in my despite? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee +To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, +And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded: +My foes I do repute you every one; +So, trouble me no more, but get you gone. + +MARTIUS +He is not with himself; let us withdraw. + +QUINTUS +Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. + +MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,-- + +QUINTUS +Father, and in that name doth nature speak,-- + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,-- + +LUCIUS +Dear father, soul and substance of us all,-- + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter +His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, +That died in honour and Lavinia's cause. +Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous: +The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax +That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son +Did graciously plead for his funerals: +Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy +Be barr'd his entrance here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Rise, Marcus, rise. +The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw, +To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome! +Well, bury him, and bury me the next. + +MUTIUS is put into the tomb + +LUCIUS +There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, +Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. + +All +[Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; +He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, +How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths +Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I know not, Marcus; but I know it is, +Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell: +Is she not then beholding to the man +That brought her for this high good turn so far? +Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + +Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others + +SATURNINUS +So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize: +God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride! + +BASSIANUS +And you of yours, my lord! I say no more, +Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave. + +SATURNINUS +Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, +Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. + +BASSIANUS +Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own, +My truth-betrothed love and now my wife? +But let the laws of Rome determine all; +Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine. + +SATURNINUS +'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us; +But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. + +BASSIANUS +My lord, what I have done, as best I may, +Answer I must and shall do with my life. +Only thus much I give your grace to know: +By all the duties that I owe to Rome, +This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, +Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd; +That in the rescue of Lavinia +With his own hand did slay his youngest son, +In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath +To be controll'd in that he frankly gave: +Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine, +That hath express'd himself in all his deeds +A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds: +'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me. +Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, +How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine! + +TAMORA +My worthy lord, if ever Tamora +Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, +Then hear me speak in indifferently for all; +And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + +SATURNINUS +What, madam! be dishonour'd openly, +And basely put it up without revenge? + +TAMORA +Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend +I should be author to dishonour you! +But on mine honour dare I undertake +For good Lord Titus' innocence in all; +Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: +Then, at my suit, look graciously on him; +Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, +Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. + +Aside to SATURNINUS + +be won at last; +Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: +You are but newly planted in your throne; +Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, +Upon a just survey, take Titus' part, +And so supplant you for ingratitude, +Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, +Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: +I'll find a day to massacre them all +And raze their faction and their family, +The cruel father and his traitorous sons, +To whom I sued for my dear son's life, +And make them know what 'tis to let a queen +Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. + +Aloud + +Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; +Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart +That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. + +SATURNINUS +Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I thank your majesty, and her, my lord: +These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, +A Roman now adopted happily, +And must advise the emperor for his good. +This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; +And let it be mine honour, good my lord, +That I have reconciled your friends and you. +For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd +My word and promise to the emperor, +That you will be more mild and tractable. +And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia; +By my advice, all humbled on your knees, +You shall ask pardon of his majesty. + +LUCIUS +We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness, +That what we did was mildly as we might, +Tendering our sister's honour and our own. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +That, on mine honour, here I do protest. + +SATURNINUS +Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + +TAMORA +Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends: +The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace; +I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back. + +SATURNINUS +Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here, +And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, +I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up. +Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, +I found a friend, and sure as death I swore +I would not part a bachelor from the priest. +Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides, +You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. +This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +To-morrow, an it please your majesty +To hunt the panther and the hart with me, +With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. + +SATURNINUS +Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Palace. + +Enter AARON +AARON +Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, +Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft, +Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash; +Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach. +As when the golden sun salutes the morn, +And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, +Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, +And overlooks the highest-peering hills; +So Tamora: +Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, +And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. +Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts, +To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, +And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long +Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains +And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes +Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. +Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! +I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, +To wait upon this new-made empress. +To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, +This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, +This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine, +And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's. +Holloa! what storm is this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge, +And manners, to intrude where I am graced; +And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. + +CHIRON +Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all; +And so in this, to bear me down with braves. +'Tis not the difference of a year or two +Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: +I am as able and as fit as thou +To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace; +And that my sword upon thee shall approve, +And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. + +AARON +[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep +the peace. + +DEMETRIUS +Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, +Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, +Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? +Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath +Till you know better how to handle it. + +CHIRON +Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, +Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. + +DEMETRIUS +Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? + +They draw + +AARON +[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords! +So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, +And maintain such a quarrel openly? +Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: +I would not for a million of gold +The cause were known to them it most concerns; +Nor would your noble mother for much more +Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome. +For shame, put up. + +DEMETRIUS +Not I, till I have sheathed +My rapier in his bosom and withal +Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat +That he hath breathed in my dishonour here. + +CHIRON +For that I am prepared and full resolved. +Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, +And with thy weapon nothing darest perform! + +AARON +Away, I say! +Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, +This petty brabble will undo us all. +Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous +It is to jet upon a prince's right? +What, is Lavinia then become so loose, +Or Bassianus so degenerate, +That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd +Without controlment, justice, or revenge? +Young lords, beware! and should the empress know +This discord's ground, the music would not please. + +CHIRON +I care not, I, knew she and all the world: +I love Lavinia more than all the world. + +DEMETRIUS +Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: +Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. + +AARON +Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome +How furious and impatient they be, +And cannot brook competitors in love? +I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths +By this device. + +CHIRON +Aaron, a thousand deaths +Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. + +AARON +To achieve her! how? + +DEMETRIUS +Why makest thou it so strange? +She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; +She is a woman, therefore may be won; +She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. +What, man! more water glideth by the mill +Than wots the miller of; and easy it is +Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: +Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother. +Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. + +AARON +[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. + +DEMETRIUS +Then why should he despair that knows to court it +With words, fair looks and liberality? +What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, +And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? + +AARON +Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so +Would serve your turns. + +CHIRON +Ay, so the turn were served. + +DEMETRIUS +Aaron, thou hast hit it. + +AARON +Would you had hit it too! +Then should not we be tired with this ado. +Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools +To square for this? would it offend you, then +That both should speed? + +CHIRON +Faith, not me. + +DEMETRIUS +Nor me, so I were one. + +AARON +For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: +'Tis policy and stratagem must do +That you affect; and so must you resolve, +That what you cannot as you would achieve, +You must perforce accomplish as you may. +Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste +Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. +A speedier course than lingering languishment +Must we pursue, and I have found the path. +My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; +There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: +The forest walks are wide and spacious; +And many unfrequented plots there are +Fitted by kind for rape and villany: +Single you thither then this dainty doe, +And strike her home by force, if not by words: +This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. +Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit +To villany and vengeance consecrate, +Will we acquaint with all that we intend; +And she shall file our engines with advice, +That will not suffer you to square yourselves, +But to your wishes' height advance you both. +The emperor's court is like the house of Fame, +The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: +The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; +There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take +your turns; +There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye, +And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + +CHIRON +Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice, + +DEMETRIUS +Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream +To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits. +Per Styga, per manes vehor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard. + +Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, & c., MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS +TITUS ANDRONICUS +The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, +The fields are fragrant and the woods are green: +Uncouple here and let us make a bay +And wake the emperor and his lovely bride +And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal, +That all the court may echo with the noise. +Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, +To attend the emperor's person carefully: +I have been troubled in my sleep this night, +But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. + +A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and Attendants + +Many good morrows to your majesty; +Madam, to you as many and as good: +I promised your grace a hunter's peal. + +SATURNINUS +And you have rung it lustily, my lord; +Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. + +BASSIANUS +Lavinia, how say you? + +LAVINIA +I say, no; +I have been broad awake two hours and more. + +SATURNINUS +Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have, +And to our sport. + +To TAMORA + +Madam, now shall ye see +Our Roman hunting. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +I have dogs, my lord, +Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, +And climb the highest promontory top. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +And I have horse will follow where the game +Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, +But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A lonely part of the forest. + +Enter AARON, with a bag of gold +AARON +He that had wit would think that I had none, +To bury so much gold under a tree, +And never after to inherit it. +Let him that thinks of me so abjectly +Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, +Which, cunningly effected, will beget +A very excellent piece of villany: +And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest + +Hides the gold + +That have their alms out of the empress' chest. + +Enter TAMORA + +TAMORA +My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, +When every thing doth make a gleeful boast? +The birds chant melody on every bush, +The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun, +The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind +And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: +Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, +And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, +Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, +As if a double hunt were heard at once, +Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise; +And, after conflict such as was supposed +The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd, +When with a happy storm they were surprised +And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave, +We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, +Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber; +Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds +Be unto us as is a nurse's song +Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. + +AARON +Madam, though Venus govern your desires, +Saturn is dominator over mine: +What signifies my deadly-standing eye, +My silence and my cloudy melancholy, +My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls +Even as an adder when she doth unroll +To do some fatal execution? +No, madam, these are no venereal signs: +Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, +Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. +Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul, +Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, +This is the day of doom for Bassianus: +His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day, +Thy sons make pillage of her chastity +And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood. +Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee, +And give the king this fatal plotted scroll. +Now question me no more; we are espied; +Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, +Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. + +TAMORA +Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + +AARON +No more, great empress; Bassianus comes: +Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons +To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. + +Exit + +Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA + +BASSIANUS +Who have we here? Rome's royal empress, +Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop? +Or is it Dian, habited like her, +Who hath abandoned her holy groves +To see the general hunting in this forest? + +TAMORA +Saucy controller of our private steps! +Had I the power that some say Dian had, +Thy temples should be planted presently +With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds +Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, +Unmannerly intruder as thou art! + +LAVINIA +Under your patience, gentle empress, +'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning; +And to be doubted that your Moor and you +Are singled forth to try experiments: +Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day! +'Tis pity they should take him for a stag. + +BASSIANUS +Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian +Doth make your honour of his body's hue, +Spotted, detested, and abominable. +Why are you sequester'd from all your train, +Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed. +And wander'd hither to an obscure plot, +Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, +If foul desire had not conducted you? + +LAVINIA +And, being intercepted in your sport, +Great reason that my noble lord be rated +For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence, +And let her joy her raven-colour'd love; +This valley fits the purpose passing well. + +BASSIANUS +The king my brother shall have note of this. + +LAVINIA +Ay, for these slips have made him noted long: +Good king, to be so mightily abused! + +TAMORA +Why have I patience to endure all this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +DEMETRIUS +How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! +Why doth your highness look so pale and wan? + +TAMORA +Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? +These two have 'ticed me hither to this place: +A barren detested vale, you see it is; +The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, +O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe: +Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, +Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven: +And when they show'd me this abhorred pit, +They told me, here, at dead time of the night, +A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, +Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, +Would make such fearful and confused cries +As any mortal body hearing it +Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. +No sooner had they told this hellish tale, +But straight they told me they would bind me here +Unto the body of a dismal yew, +And leave me to this miserable death: +And then they call'd me foul adulteress, +Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms +That ever ear did hear to such effect: +And, had you not by wondrous fortune come, +This vengeance on me had they executed. +Revenge it, as you love your mother's life, +Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children. + +DEMETRIUS +This is a witness that I am thy son. + +Stabs BASSIANUS + +CHIRON +And this for me, struck home to show my strength. + +Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies + +LAVINIA +Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, +For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + +TAMORA +Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys +Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her; +First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw: +This minion stood upon her chastity, +Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, +And with that painted hope braves your mightiness: +And shall she carry this unto her grave? + +CHIRON +An if she do, I would I were an eunuch. +Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, +And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. + +TAMORA +But when ye have the honey ye desire, +Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + +CHIRON +I warrant you, madam, we wil l make that sure. +Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy +That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,-- + +TAMORA +I will not hear her speak; away with her! + +LAVINIA +Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + +DEMETRIUS +Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory +To see her tears; but be your heart to them +As unrelenting flint to drops of rain. + +LAVINIA +When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? +O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee; +The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble; +Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. +Yet every mother breeds not sons alike: + +To CHIRON + +Do thou entreat her show a woman pity. + +CHIRON +What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + +LAVINIA +'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark: +Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!-- +The lion moved with pity did endure +To have his princely paws pared all away: +Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, +The whilst their own birds famish in their nests: +O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, +Nothing so kind, but something pitiful! + +TAMORA +I know not what it means; away with her! + +LAVINIA +O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake, +That gave thee life, when well he might have +slain thee, +Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears. + +TAMORA +Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me, +Even for his sake am I pitiless. +Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, +To save your brother from the sacrifice; +But fierce Andronicus would not relent; +Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will, +The worse to her, the better loved of me. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, +And with thine own hands kill me in this place! +For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long; +Poor I was slain when Bassianus died. + +TAMORA +What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go. + +LAVINIA +'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more +That womanhood denies my tongue to tell: +O, keep me from their worse than killing lust, +And tumble me into some loathsome pit, +Where never man's eye may behold my body: +Do this, and be a charitable murderer. + +TAMORA +So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: +No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. + +DEMETRIUS +Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long. + +LAVINIA +No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature! +The blot and enemy to our general name! +Confusion fall-- + +CHIRON +Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband: +This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. + +DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging off LAVINIA + +TAMORA +Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure. +Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed, +Till all the Andronici be made away. +Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, +And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r. + +Exit + +Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS + +AARON +Come on, my lords, the better foot before: +Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit +Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + +QUINTUS +My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + +MARTIUS +And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame, +Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. + +Falls into the pit + +QUINTUS +What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this, +Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers, +Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood +As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers? +A very fatal place it seems to me. +Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall? + +MARTIUS +O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt +That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + +AARON +[Aside] Now will I fetch the king to find them here, +That he thereby may give a likely guess +How these were they that made away his brother. + +Exit + +MARTIUS +Why dost not comfort me, and help me out +From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole? + +QUINTUS +I am surprised with an uncouth fear; +A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints: +My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. + +MARTIUS +To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, +Aaron and thou look down into this den, +And see a fearful sight of blood and death. + +QUINTUS +Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart +Will not permit mine eyes once to behold +The thing whereat it trembles by surmise; +O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now +Was I a child to fear I know not what. + +MARTIUS +Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here, +All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb, +In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + +QUINTUS +If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + +MARTIUS +Upon his bloody finger he doth wear +A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, +Which, like a taper in some monument, +Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, +And shows the ragged entrails of the pit: +So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus +When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. +O brother, help me with thy fainting hand-- +If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath-- +Out of this fell devouring receptacle, +As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth. + +QUINTUS +Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out; +Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, +I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb +Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave. +I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink. + +MARTIUS +Nor I no strength to climb without thy help. + +QUINTUS +Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, +Till thou art here aloft, or I below: +Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee. + +Falls in + +Enter SATURNINUS with AARON + +SATURNINUS +Along with me: I'll see what hole is here, +And what he is that now is leap'd into it. +Say who art thou that lately didst descend +Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + +MARTIUS +The unhappy son of old Andronicus: +Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, +To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + +SATURNINUS +My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: +He and his lady both are at the lodge +Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; +'Tis not an hour since I left him there. + +MARTIUS +We know not where you left him all alive; +But, out, alas! here have we found him dead. + +Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and Lucius + +TAMORA +Where is my lord the king? + +SATURNINUS +Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. + +TAMORA +Where is thy brother Bassianus? + +SATURNINUS +Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound: +Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + +TAMORA +Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, +The complot of this timeless tragedy; +And wonder greatly that man's face can fold +In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. + +She giveth SATURNINUS a letter + +SATURNINUS +[Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely-- +Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean-- +Do thou so much as dig the grave for him: +Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward +Among the nettles at the elder-tree +Which overshades the mouth of that same pit +Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. +Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.' +O Tamora! was ever heard the like? +This is the pit, and this the elder-tree. +Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out +That should have murdered Bassianus here. + +AARON +My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. + +SATURNINUS +[To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of +bloody kind, +Have here bereft my brother of his life. +Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison: +There let them bide until we have devised +Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + +TAMORA +What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! +How easily murder is discovered! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +High emperor, upon my feeble knee +I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, +That this fell fault of my accursed sons, +Accursed if the fault be proved in them,-- + +SATURNINUS +If it be proved! you see it is apparent. +Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + +TAMORA +Andronicus himself did take it up. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail; +For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow +They shall be ready at your highness' will +To answer their suspicion with their lives. + +SATURNINUS +Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me. +Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers: +Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain; +For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, +That end upon them should be executed. + +TAMORA +Andronicus, I will entreat the king; +Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the forest. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out +DEMETRIUS +So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, +Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee. + +CHIRON +Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, +An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. + +DEMETRIUS +See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl. + +CHIRON +Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands. + +DEMETRIUS +She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; +And so let's leave her to her silent walks. + +CHIRON +An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself. + +DEMETRIUS +If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. + +Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +Enter MARCUS + +MARCUS +Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast! +Cousin, a word; where is your husband? +If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! +If I do wake, some planet strike me down, +That I may slumber in eternal sleep! +Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands +Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare +Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, +Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, +And might not gain so great a happiness +As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me? +Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, +Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, +Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, +Coming and going with thy honey breath. +But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee, +And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. +Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame! +And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood, +As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, +Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face +Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. +Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? +O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast, +That I might rail at him, to ease my mind! +Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, +Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. +Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, +And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind: +But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee; +A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, +And he hath cut those pretty fingers off, +That could have better sew'd than Philomel. +O, had the monster seen those lily hands +Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute, +And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, +He would not then have touch'd them for his life! +Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony +Which that sweet tongue hath made, +He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep +As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. +Come, let us go, and make thy father blind; +For such a sight will blind a father's eye: +One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; +What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? +Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee +O, could our mourning ease thy misery! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of execution; TITUS going before, pleading +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay! +For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent +In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept; +For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed; +For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd; +And for these bitter tears, which now you see +Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks; +Be pitiful to my condemned sons, +Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought. +For two and twenty sons I never wept, +Because they died in honour's lofty bed. + +Lieth down; the Judges, & c., pass by him, and Exeunt + +For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write +My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears: +Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; +My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. +O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain, +That shall distil from these two ancient urns, +Than youthful April shall with all his showers: +In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still; +In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow +And keep eternal spring-time on thy face, +So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. + +Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn + +O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men! +Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death; +And let me say, that never wept before, +My tears are now prevailing orators. + +LUCIUS +O noble father, you lament in vain: +The tribunes hear you not; no man is by; +And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead. +Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,-- + +LUCIUS +My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear, +They would not mark me, or if they did mark, +They would not pity me, yet plead I must; +Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; +Who, though they cannot answer my distress, +Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, +For that they will not intercept my tale: +When I do weep, they humbly at my feet +Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; +And, were they but attired in grave weeds, +Rome could afford no tribune like to these. +A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones; +A stone is silent, and offendeth not, +And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. + +Rises + +But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? + +LUCIUS +To rescue my two brothers from their death: +For which attempt the judges have pronounced +My everlasting doom of banishment. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O happy man! they have befriended thee. +Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive +That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? +Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey +But me and mine: how happy art thou, then, +From these devourers to be banished! +But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + +Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep; +Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break: +I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Will it consume me? let me see it, then. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +This was thy daughter. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, Marcus, so she is. + +LUCIUS +Ay me, this object kills me! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her. +Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand +Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? +What fool hath added water to the sea, +Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? +My grief was at the height before thou camest, +And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. +Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; +For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain; +And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life; +In bootless prayer have they been held up, +And they have served me to effectless use: +Now all the service I require of them +Is that the one will help to cut the other. +'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; +For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain. + +LUCIUS +Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, that delightful engine of her thoughts +That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence, +Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage, +Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung +Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear! + +LUCIUS +O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, thus I found her, straying in the park, +Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer +That hath received some unrecuring wound. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It was my deer; and he that wounded her +Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead: +For now I stand as one upon a rock +Environed with a wilderness of sea, +Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, +Expecting ever when some envious surge +Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. +This way to death my wretched sons are gone; +Here stands my other son, a banished man, +And here my brother, weeping at my woes. +But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn, +Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. +Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, +It would have madded me: what shall I do +Now I behold thy lively body so? +Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears: +Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: +Thy husband he is dead: and for his death +Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this. +Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! +When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears +Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew +Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; +Perchance because she knows them innocent. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. +was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in +Romeo and Juliet +Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +Two households, both alike in dignity, +In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; +Whole misadventured piteous overthrows +Do with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. + +SCENE I. Verona. A public place. + +Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers +SAMPSON +Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY +No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON +I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY +Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + +SAMPSON +I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY +But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON +A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY +To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: +therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + +SAMPSON +A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will +take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY +That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes +to the wall. + +SAMPSON +True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, +are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids +to the wall. + +GREGORY +The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + +SAMPSON +'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I +have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the +maids, and cut off their heads. + +GREGORY +The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON +Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; +take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY +They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON +Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and +'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY +'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes +two of the house of the Montagues. + +SAMPSON +My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + +GREGORY +How! turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON +Fear me not. + +GREGORY +No, marry; I fear thee! + +SAMPSON +Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + +GREGORY +I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as +they list. + +SAMPSON +Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; +which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + +Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say +ay? + +GREGORY +No. + +SAMPSON +No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I +bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY +Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAHAM +Quarrel sir! no, sir. + +SAMPSON +If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. + +ABRAHAM +No better. + +SAMPSON +Well, sir. + +GREGORY +Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON +Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAHAM +You lie. + +SAMPSON +Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. + +They fight + +Enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +Part, fools! +Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + +Beats down their swords + +Enter TYBALT + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: +Have at thee, coward! + +They fight + +Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs + +First Citizen +Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + +Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + +CAPULET +My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + +Enter PRINCE, with Attendants + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- +Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins, +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partisans, in hands as old, +Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time, all the rest depart away: +You Capulet; shall go along with me: +And, Montague, come you this afternoon, +To know our further pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO + +MONTAGUE +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: +I drew to part them: in the instant came +The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; +Where, underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from the city's side, +So early walking did I see your son: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood: +I, measuring his affections by my own, +That most are busied when they're most alone, +Pursued my humour not pursuing his, +And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the furthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from the light steals home my heavy son, +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out +And makes himself an artificial night: +Black and portentous must this humour prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends: +But he, his own affections' counsellor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true-- +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm, +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, +Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; +I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + +Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +BENVOLIO +Good-morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO +Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO +Ay me! sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO +In love? + +ROMEO +Out-- + +BENVOLIO +Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favour, where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! +O any thing, of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness! serious vanity! +Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, +sick health! +Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO +No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the walls of Athens. + +Enter TIMON +TIMON +Let me look back upon thee. O thou wall, +That girdlest in those wolves, dive in the earth, +And fence not Athens! Matrons, turn incontinent! +Obedience fail in children! slaves and fools, +Pluck the grave wrinkled senate from the bench, +And minister in their steads! to general filths +Convert o' the instant, green virginity, +Do 't in your parents' eyes! bankrupts, hold fast; +Rather than render back, out with your knives, +And cut your trusters' throats! bound servants, steal! +Large-handed robbers your grave masters are, +And pill by law. Maid, to thy master's bed; +Thy mistress is o' the brothel! Son of sixteen, +pluck the lined crutch from thy old limping sire, +With it beat out his brains! Piety, and fear, +Religion to the gods, peace, justice, truth, +Domestic awe, night-rest, and neighbourhood, +Instruction, manners, mysteries, and trades, +Degrees, observances, customs, and laws, +Decline to your confounding contraries, +And let confusion live! Plagues, incident to men, +Your potent and infectious fevers heap +On Athens, ripe for stroke! Thou cold sciatica, +Cripple our senators, that their limbs may halt +As lamely as their manners. Lust and liberty +Creep in the minds and marrows of our youth, +That 'gainst the stream of virtue they may strive, +And drown themselves in riot! Itches, blains, +Sow all the Athenian bosoms; and their crop +Be general leprosy! Breath infect breath, +at their society, as their friendship, may +merely poison! Nothing I'll bear from thee, +But nakedness, thou detestable town! +Take thou that too, with multiplying bans! +Timon will to the woods; where he shall find +The unkindest beast more kinder than mankind. +The gods confound--hear me, you good gods all-- +The Athenians both within and out that wall! +And grant, as Timon grows, his hate may grow +To the whole race of mankind, high and low! Amen. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Athens. A room in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with two or three Servants +First Servant +Hear you, master steward, where's our master? +Are we undone? cast off? nothing remaining? + +FLAVIUS +Alack, my fellows, what should I say to you? +Let me be recorded by the righteous gods, +I am as poor as you. + +First Servant +Such a house broke! +So noble a master fall'n! All gone! and not +One friend to take his fortune by the arm, +And go along with him! + +Second Servant +As we do turn our backs +From our companion thrown into his grave, +So his familiars to his buried fortunes +Slink all away, leave their false vows with him, +Like empty purses pick'd; and his poor self, +A dedicated beggar to the air, +With his disease of all-shunn'd poverty, +Walks, like contempt, alone. More of our fellows. + +Enter other Servants + +FLAVIUS +All broken implements of a ruin'd house. + +Third Servant +Yet do our hearts wear Timon's livery; +That see I by our faces; we are fellows still, +Serving alike in sorrow: leak'd is our bark, +And we, poor mates, stand on the dying deck, +Hearing the surges threat: we must all part +Into this sea of air. + +FLAVIUS +Good fellows all, +The latest of my wealth I'll share amongst you. +Wherever we shall meet, for Timon's sake, +Let's yet be fellows; let's shake our heads, and say, +As 'twere a knell unto our master's fortunes, +'We have seen better days.' Let each take some; +Nay, put out all your hands. Not one word more: +Thus part we rich in sorrow, parting poor. + +Servants embrace, and part several ways + +O, the fierce wretchedness that glory brings us! +Who would not wish to be from wealth exempt, +Since riches point to misery and contempt? +Who would be so mock'd with glory? or to live +But in a dream of friendship? +To have his pomp and all what state compounds +But only painted, like his varnish'd friends? +Poor honest lord, brought low by his own heart, +Undone by goodness! Strange, unusual blood, +When man's worst sin is, he does too much good! +Who, then, dares to be half so kind again? +For bounty, that makes gods, does still mar men. +My dearest lord, bless'd, to be most accursed, +Rich, only to be wretched, thy great fortunes +Are made thy chief afflictions. Alas, kind lord! +He's flung in rage from this ingrateful seat +Of monstrous friends, nor has he with him to +Supply his life, or that which can command it. +I'll follow and inquire him out: +I'll ever serve his mind with my best will; +Whilst I have gold, I'll be his steward still. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Woods and cave, near the seashore. + +Enter TIMON, from the cave +O blessed breeding sun, draw from the earth +Rotten humidity; below thy sister's orb +Infect the air! Twinn'd brothers of one womb, +Whose procreation, residence, and birth, +Scarce is dividant, touch them with several fortunes; +The greater scorns the lesser: not nature, +To whom all sores lay siege, can bear great fortune, +But by contempt of nature. +Raise me this beggar, and deny 't that lord; +The senator shall bear contempt hereditary, +The beggar native honour. +It is the pasture lards the rother's sides, +The want that makes him lean. Who dares, who dares, +In purity of manhood stand upright, +And say 'This man's a flatterer?' if one be, +So are they all; for every grise of fortune +Is smooth'd by that below: the learned pate +Ducks to the golden fool: all is oblique; +There's nothing level in our cursed natures, +But direct villany. Therefore, be abhorr'd +All feasts, societies, and throngs of men! +His semblable, yea, himself, Timon disdains: +Destruction fang mankind! Earth, yield me roots! + +Digging + +Who seeks for better of thee, sauce his palate +With thy most operant poison! What is here? +Gold? yellow, glittering, precious gold? No, gods, +I am no idle votarist: roots, you clear heavens! +Thus much of this will make black white, foul fair, +Wrong right, base noble, old young, coward valiant. +Ha, you gods! why this? what this, you gods? Why, this +Will lug your priests and servants from your sides, +Pluck stout men's pillows from below their heads: +This yellow slave +Will knit and break religions, bless the accursed, +Make the hoar leprosy adored, place thieves +And give them title, knee and approbation +With senators on the bench: this is it +That makes the wappen'd widow wed again; +She, whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores +Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spices +To the April day again. Come, damned earth, +Thou common whore of mankind, that put'st odds +Among the route of nations, I will make thee +Do thy right nature. + +March afar off + +Ha! a drum ? Thou'rt quick, +But yet I'll bury thee: thou'lt go, strong thief, +When gouty keepers of thee cannot stand. +Nay, stay thou out for earnest. + +Keeping some gold + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with drum and fife, in warlike manner; PHRYNIA and TIMANDRA + +ALCIBIADES +What art thou there? speak. + +TIMON +A beast, as thou art. The canker gnaw thy heart, +For showing me again the eyes of man! + +ALCIBIADES +What is thy name? Is man so hateful to thee, +That art thyself a man? + +TIMON +I am Misanthropos, and hate mankind. +For thy part, I do wish thou wert a dog, +That I might love thee something. + +ALCIBIADES +I know thee well; +But in thy fortunes am unlearn'd and strange. + +TIMON +I know thee too; and more than that I know thee, +I not desire to know. Follow thy drum; +With man's blood paint the ground, gules, gules: +Religious canons, civil laws are cruel; +Then what should war be? This fell whore of thine +Hath in her more destruction than thy sword, +For all her cherubim look. + +PHRYNIA +Thy lips rot off! + +TIMON +I will not kiss thee; then the rot returns +To thine own lips again. + +ALCIBIADES +How came the noble Timon to this change? + +TIMON +As the moon does, by wanting light to give: +But then renew I could not, like the moon; +There were no suns to borrow of. + +ALCIBIADES +Noble Timon, +What friendship may I do thee? + +TIMON +None, but to +Maintain my opinion. + +ALCIBIADES +What is it, Timon? + +TIMON +Promise me friendship, but perform none: if thou +wilt not promise, the gods plague thee, for thou art +a man! if thou dost perform, confound thee, for +thou art a man! + +ALCIBIADES +I have heard in some sort of thy miseries. + +TIMON +Thou saw'st them, when I had prosperity. + +ALCIBIADES +I see them now; then was a blessed time. + +TIMON +As thine is now, held with a brace of harlots. + +TIMANDRA +Is this the Athenian minion, whom the world +Voiced so regardfully? + +TIMON +Art thou Timandra? + +TIMANDRA +Yes. + +TIMON +Be a whore still: they love thee not that use thee; +Give them diseases, leaving with thee their lust. +Make use of thy salt hours: season the slaves +For tubs and baths; bring down rose-cheeked youth +To the tub-fast and the diet. + +TIMANDRA +Hang thee, monster! + +ALCIBIADES +Pardon him, sweet Timandra; for his wits +Are drown'd and lost in his calamities. +I have but little gold of late, brave Timon, +The want whereof doth daily make revolt +In my penurious band: I have heard, and grieved, +How cursed Athens, mindless of thy worth, +Forgetting thy great deeds, when neighbour states, +But for thy sword and fortune, trod upon them,-- + +TIMON +I prithee, beat thy drum, and get thee gone. + +ALCIBIADES +I am thy friend, and pity thee, dear Timon. + +TIMON +How dost thou pity him whom thou dost trouble? +I had rather be alone. + +ALCIBIADES +Why, fare thee well: +Here is some gold for thee. + +TIMON +Keep it, I cannot eat it. + +ALCIBIADES +When I have laid proud Athens on a heap,-- + +TIMON +Warr'st thou 'gainst Athens? + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, Timon, and have cause. + +TIMON +The gods confound them all in thy conquest; +And thee after, when thou hast conquer'd! + +ALCIBIADES +Why me, Timon? + +TIMON +That, by killing of villains, +Thou wast born to conquer my country. +Put up thy gold: go on,--here's gold,--go on; +Be as a planetary plague, when Jove +Will o'er some high-viced city hang his poison +In the sick air: let not thy sword skip one: +Pity not honour'd age for his white beard; +He is an usurer: strike me the counterfeit matron; +It is her habit only that is honest, +Herself's a bawd: let not the virgin's cheek +Make soft thy trenchant sword; for those milk-paps, +That through the window-bars bore at men's eyes, +Are not within the leaf of pity writ, +But set them down horrible traitors: spare not the babe, +Whose dimpled smiles from fools exhaust their mercy; +Think it a bastard, whom the oracle +Hath doubtfully pronounced thy throat shall cut, +And mince it sans remorse: swear against objects; +Put armour on thine ears and on thine eyes; +Whose proof, nor yells of mothers, maids, nor babes, +Nor sight of priests in holy vestments bleeding, +Shall pierce a jot. There's gold to pay soldiers: +Make large confusion; and, thy fury spent, +Confounded be thyself! Speak not, be gone. + +ALCIBIADES +Hast thou gold yet? I'll take the gold thou +givest me, +Not all thy counsel. + +TIMON +Dost thou, or dost thou not, heaven's curse +upon thee! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Give us some gold, good Timon: hast thou more? + +TIMON +Enough to make a whore forswear her trade, +And to make whores, a bawd. Hold up, you sluts, +Your aprons mountant: you are not oathable, +Although, I know, you 'll swear, terribly swear +Into strong shudders and to heavenly agues +The immortal gods that hear you,--spare your oaths, +I'll trust to your conditions: be whores still; +And he whose pious breath seeks to convert you, +Be strong in whore, allure him, burn him up; +Let your close fire predominate his smoke, +And be no turncoats: yet may your pains, six months, +Be quite contrary: and thatch your poor thin roofs +With burthens of the dead;--some that were hang'd, +No matter:--wear them, betray with them: whore still; +Paint till a horse may mire upon your face, +A pox of wrinkles! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +Well, more gold: what then? +Believe't, that we'll do any thing for gold. + +TIMON +Consumptions sow +In hollow bones of man; strike their sharp shins, +And mar men's spurring. Crack the lawyer's voice, +That he may never more false title plead, +Nor sound his quillets shrilly: hoar the flamen, +That scolds against the quality of flesh, +And not believes himself: down with the nose, +Down with it flat; take the bridge quite away +Of him that, his particular to foresee, +Smells from the general weal: make curl'd-pate +ruffians bald; +And let the unscarr'd braggarts of the war +Derive some pain from you: plague all; +That your activity may defeat and quell +The source of all erection. There's more gold: +Do you damn others, and let this damn you, +And ditches grave you all! + +PHRYNIA TIMANDRA +More counsel with more money, bounteous Timon. + +TIMON +More whore, more mischief first; I have given you earnest. + +ALCIBIADES +Strike up the drum towards Athens! Farewell, Timon: +If I thrive well, I'll visit thee again. + +TIMON +If I hope well, I'll never see thee more. + +ALCIBIADES +I never did thee harm. + +TIMON +Yes, thou spokest well of me. + +ALCIBIADES +Call'st thou that harm? + +TIMON +Men daily find it. Get thee away, and take +Thy beagles with thee. + +ALCIBIADES +We but offend him. Strike! + +Drum beats. Exeunt ALCIBIADES, PHRYNIA, and TIMANDRA + +TIMON +That nature, being sick of man's unkindness, +Should yet be hungry! Common mother, thou, + +Digging + +Whose womb unmeasurable, and infinite breast, +Teems, and feeds all; whose self-same mettle, +Whereof thy proud child, arrogant man, is puff'd, +Engenders the black toad and adder blue, +The gilded newt and eyeless venom'd worm, +With all the abhorred births below crisp heaven +Whereon Hyperion's quickening fire doth shine; +Yield him, who all thy human sons doth hate, +From forth thy plenteous bosom, one poor root! +Ensear thy fertile and conceptious womb, +Let it no more bring out ingrateful man! +Go great with tigers, dragons, wolves, and bears; +Teem with new monsters, whom thy upward face +Hath to the marbled mansion all above +Never presented!--O, a root,--dear thanks!-- +Dry up thy marrows, vines, and plough-torn leas; +Whereof ungrateful man, with liquorish draughts +And morsels unctuous, greases his pure mind, +That from it all consideration slips! + +Enter APEMANTUS + +More man? plague, plague! + +APEMANTUS +I was directed hither: men report +Thou dost affect my manners, and dost use them. + +TIMON +'Tis, then, because thou dost not keep a dog, +Whom I would imitate: consumption catch thee! + +APEMANTUS +This is in thee a nature but infected; +A poor unmanly melancholy sprung +From change of fortune. Why this spade? this place? +This slave-like habit? and these looks of care? +Thy flatterers yet wear silk, drink wine, lie soft; +Hug their diseased perfumes, and have forgot +That ever Timon was. Shame not these woods, +By putting on the cunning of a carper. +Be thou a flatterer now, and seek to thrive +By that which has undone thee: hinge thy knee, +And let his very breath, whom thou'lt observe, +Blow off thy cap; praise his most vicious strain, +And call it excellent: thou wast told thus; +Thou gavest thine ears like tapsters that bid welcome +To knaves and all approachers: 'tis most just +That thou turn rascal; hadst thou wealth again, +Rascals should have 't. Do not assume my likeness. + +TIMON +Were I like thee, I'ld throw away myself. + +APEMANTUS +Thou hast cast away thyself, being like thyself; +A madman so long, now a fool. What, think'st +That the bleak air, thy boisterous chamberlain, +Will put thy shirt on warm? will these moss'd trees, +That have outlived the eagle, page thy heels, +And skip where thou point'st out? will the +cold brook, +Candied with ice, caudle thy morning taste, +To cure thy o'er-night's surfeit? Call the creatures +Whose naked natures live in an the spite +Of wreakful heaven, whose bare unhoused trunks, +To the conflicting elements exposed, +Answer mere nature; bid them flatter thee; +O, thou shalt find-- + +TIMON +A fool of thee: depart. + +APEMANTUS +I love thee better now than e'er I did. + +TIMON +I hate thee worse. + +APEMANTUS +Why? + +TIMON +Thou flatter'st misery. + +APEMANTUS +I flatter not; but say thou art a caitiff. + +TIMON +Why dost thou seek me out? + +APEMANTUS +To vex thee. + +TIMON +Always a villain's office or a fool's. +Dost please thyself in't? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +What! a knave too? + +APEMANTUS +If thou didst put this sour-cold habit on +To castigate thy pride, 'twere well: but thou +Dost it enforcedly; thou'ldst courtier be again, +Wert thou not beggar. Willing misery +Outlives encertain pomp, is crown'd before: +The one is filling still, never complete; +The other, at high wish: best state, contentless, +Hath a distracted and most wretched being, +Worse than the worst, content. +Thou shouldst desire to die, being miserable. + +TIMON +Not by his breath that is more miserable. +Thou art a slave, whom Fortune's tender arm +With favour never clasp'd; but bred a dog. +Hadst thou, like us from our first swath, proceeded +The sweet degrees that this brief world affords +To such as may the passive drugs of it +Freely command, thou wouldst have plunged thyself +In general riot; melted down thy youth +In different beds of lust; and never learn'd +The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd +The sugar'd game before thee. But myself, +Who had the world as my confectionary, +The mouths, the tongues, the eyes and hearts of men +At duty, more than I could frame employment, +That numberless upon me stuck as leaves +Do on the oak, hive with one winter's brush +Fell from their boughs and left me open, bare +For every storm that blows: I, to bear this, +That never knew but better, is some burden: +Thy nature did commence in sufferance, time +Hath made thee hard in't. Why shouldst thou hate men? +They never flatter'd thee: what hast thou given? +If thou wilt curse, thy father, that poor rag, +Must be thy subject, who in spite put stuff +To some she beggar and compounded thee +Poor rogue hereditary. Hence, be gone! +If thou hadst not been born the worst of men, +Thou hadst been a knave and flatterer. + +APEMANTUS +Art thou proud yet? + +TIMON +Ay, that I am not thee. + +APEMANTUS +I, that I was +No prodigal. + +TIMON +I, that I am one now: +Were all the wealth I have shut up in thee, +I'ld give thee leave to hang it. Get thee gone. +That the whole life of Athens were in this! +Thus would I eat it. + +Eating a root + +APEMANTUS +Here; I will mend thy feast. + +Offering him a root + +TIMON +First mend my company, take away thyself. + +APEMANTUS +So I shall mend mine own, by the lack of thine. + +TIMON +'Tis not well mended so, it is but botch'd; +if not, I would it were. + +APEMANTUS +What wouldst thou have to Athens? + +TIMON +Thee thither in a whirlwind. If thou wilt, +Tell them there I have gold; look, so I have. + +APEMANTUS +Here is no use for gold. + +TIMON +The best and truest; +For here it sleeps, and does no hired harm. + +APEMANTUS +Where liest o' nights, Timon? + +TIMON +Under that's above me. +Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Where my stomach finds meat; or, rather, where I eat +it. + +TIMON +Would poison were obedient and knew my mind! + +APEMANTUS +Where wouldst thou send it? + +TIMON +To sauce thy dishes. + +APEMANTUS +The middle of humanity thou never knewest, but the +extremity of both ends: when thou wast in thy gilt +and thy perfume, they mocked thee for too much +curiosity; in thy rags thou knowest none, but art +despised for the contrary. There's a medlar for +thee, eat it. + +TIMON +On what I hate I feed not. + +APEMANTUS +Dost hate a medlar? + +TIMON +Ay, though it look like thee. + +APEMANTUS +An thou hadst hated meddlers sooner, thou shouldst +have loved thyself better now. What man didst thou +ever know unthrift that was beloved after his means? + +TIMON +Who, without those means thou talkest of, didst thou +ever know beloved? + +APEMANTUS +Myself. + +TIMON +I understand thee; thou hadst some means to keep a +dog. + +APEMANTUS +What things in the world canst thou nearest compare +to thy flatterers? + +TIMON +Women nearest; but men, men are the things +themselves. What wouldst thou do with the world, +Apemantus, if it lay in thy power? + +APEMANTUS +Give it the beasts, to be rid of the men. + +TIMON +Wouldst thou have thyself fall in the confusion of +men, and remain a beast with the beasts? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, Timon. + +TIMON +A beastly ambition, which the gods grant thee t' +attain to! If thou wert the lion, the fox would +beguile thee; if thou wert the lamb, the fox would +eat three: if thou wert the fox, the lion would +suspect thee, when peradventure thou wert accused by +the ass: if thou wert the ass, thy dulness would +torment thee, and still thou livedst but as a +breakfast to the wolf: if thou wert the wolf, thy +greediness would afflict thee, and oft thou shouldst +hazard thy life for thy dinner: wert thou the +unicorn, pride and wrath would confound thee and +make thine own self the conquest of thy fury: wert +thou a bear, thou wouldst be killed by the horse: +wert thou a horse, thou wouldst be seized by the +leopard: wert thou a leopard, thou wert german to +the lion and the spots of thy kindred were jurors on +thy life: all thy safety were remotion and thy +defence absence. What beast couldst thou be, that +were not subject to a beast? and what a beast art +thou already, that seest not thy loss in +transformation! + +APEMANTUS +If thou couldst please me with speaking to me, thou +mightst have hit upon it here: the commonwealth of +Athens is become a forest of beasts. + +TIMON +How has the ass broke the wall, that thou art out of the city? + +APEMANTUS +Yonder comes a poet and a painter: the plague of +company light upon thee! I will fear to catch it +and give way: when I know not what else to do, I'll +see thee again. + +TIMON +When there is nothing living but thee, thou shalt be +welcome. I had rather be a beggar's dog than Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art the cap of all the fools alive. + +TIMON +Would thou wert clean enough to spit upon! + +APEMANTUS +A plague on thee! thou art too bad to curse. + +TIMON +All villains that do stand by thee are pure. + +APEMANTUS +There is no leprosy but what thou speak'st. + +TIMON +If I name thee. +I'll beat thee, but I should infect my hands. + +APEMANTUS +I would my tongue could rot them off! + +TIMON +Away, thou issue of a mangy dog! +Choler does kill me that thou art alive; +I swound to see thee. + +APEMANTUS +Would thou wouldst burst! + +TIMON +Away, +Thou tedious rogue! I am sorry I shall lose +A stone by thee. + +Throws a stone at him + +APEMANTUS +Beast! + +TIMON +Slave! + +APEMANTUS +Toad! + +TIMON +Rogue, rogue, rogue! +I am sick of this false world, and will love nought +But even the mere necessities upon 't. +Then, Timon, presently prepare thy grave; +Lie where the light foam the sea may beat +Thy grave-stone daily: make thine epitaph, +That death in me at others' lives may laugh. + +To the gold + +O thou sweet king-killer, and dear divorce +'Twixt natural son and sire! thou bright defiler +Of Hymen's purest bed! thou valiant Mars! +Thou ever young, fresh, loved and delicate wooer, +Whose blush doth thaw the consecrated snow +That lies on Dian's lap! thou visible god, +That solder'st close impossibilities, +And makest them kiss! that speak'st with +every tongue, +To every purpose! O thou touch of hearts! +Think, thy slave man rebels, and by thy virtue +Set them into confounding odds, that beasts +May have the world in empire! + +APEMANTUS +Would 'twere so! +But not till I am dead. I'll say thou'st gold: +Thou wilt be throng'd to shortly. + +TIMON +Throng'd to! + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Thy back, I prithee. + +APEMANTUS +Live, and love thy misery. + +TIMON +Long live so, and so die. + +Exit APEMANTUS + +I am quit. +Moe things like men! Eat, Timon, and abhor them. + +Enter Banditti + +First Bandit +Where should he have this gold? It is some poor +fragment, some slender sort of his remainder: the +mere want of gold, and the falling-from of his +friends, drove him into this melancholy. + +Second Bandit +It is noised he hath a mass of treasure. + +Third Bandit +Let us make the assay upon him: if he care not +for't, he will supply us easily; if he covetously +reserve it, how shall's get it? + +Second Bandit +True; for he bears it not about him, 'tis hid. + +First Bandit +Is not this he? + +Banditti +Where? + +Second Bandit +'Tis his description. + +Third Bandit +He; I know him. + +Banditti +Save thee, Timon. + +TIMON +Now, thieves? + +Banditti +Soldiers, not thieves. + +TIMON +Both too; and women's sons. + +Banditti +We are not thieves, but men that much do want. + +TIMON +Your greatest want is, you want much of meat. +Why should you want? Behold, the earth hath roots; +Within this mile break forth a hundred springs; +The oaks bear mast, the briers scarlet hips; +The bounteous housewife, nature, on each bush +Lays her full mess before you. Want! why want? + +First Bandit +We cannot live on grass, on berries, water, +As beasts and birds and fishes. + +TIMON +Nor on the beasts themselves, the birds, and fishes; +You must eat men. Yet thanks I must you con +That you are thieves profess'd, that you work not +In holier shapes: for there is boundless theft +In limited professions. Rascal thieves, +Here's gold. Go, suck the subtle blood o' the grape, +Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth, +And so 'scape hanging: trust not the physician; +His antidotes are poison, and he slays +Moe than you rob: take wealth and lives together; +Do villany, do, since you protest to do't, +Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery. +The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction +Robs the vast sea: the moon's an arrant thief, +And her pale fire she snatches from the sun: +The sea's a thief, whose liquid surge resolves +The moon into salt tears: the earth's a thief, +That feeds and breeds by a composture stolen +From general excrement: each thing's a thief: +The laws, your curb and whip, in their rough power +Have uncheque'd theft. Love not yourselves: away, +Rob one another. There's more gold. Cut throats: +All that you meet are thieves: to Athens go, +Break open shops; nothing can you steal, +But thieves do lose it: steal no less for this +I give you; and gold confound you howsoe'er! Amen. + +Third Bandit +Has almost charmed me from my profession, by +persuading me to it. + +First Bandit +'Tis in the malice of mankind that he thus advises +us; not to have us thrive in our mystery. + +Second Bandit +I'll believe him as an enemy, and give over my trade. + +First Bandit +Let us first see peace in Athens: there is no time +so miserable but a man may be true. + +Exeunt Banditti + +Enter FLAVIUS + +FLAVIUS +O you gods! +Is yond despised and ruinous man my lord? +Full of decay and failing? O monument +And wonder of good deeds evilly bestow'd! +What an alteration of honour +Has desperate want made! +What viler thing upon the earth than friends +Who can bring noblest minds to basest ends! +How rarely does it meet with this time's guise, +When man was wish'd to love his enemies! +Grant I may ever love, and rather woo +Those that would mischief me than those that do! +Has caught me in his eye: I will present +My honest grief unto him; and, as my lord, +Still serve him with my life. My dearest master! + +TIMON +Away! what art thou? + +FLAVIUS +Have you forgot me, sir? + +TIMON +Why dost ask that? I have forgot all men; +Then, if thou grant'st thou'rt a man, I have forgot thee. + +FLAVIUS +An honest poor servant of yours. + +TIMON +Then I know thee not: +I never had honest man about me, I; all +I kept were knaves, to serve in meat to villains. + +FLAVIUS +The gods are witness, +Ne'er did poor steward wear a truer grief +For his undone lord than mine eyes for you. + +TIMON +What, dost thou weep? Come nearer. Then I +love thee, +Because thou art a woman, and disclaim'st +Flinty mankind; whose eyes do never give +But thorough lust and laughter. Pity's sleeping: +Strange times, that weep with laughing, not with weeping! + +FLAVIUS +I beg of you to know me, good my lord, +To accept my grief and whilst this poor wealth lasts +To entertain me as your steward still. + +TIMON +Had I a steward +So true, so just, and now so comfortable? +It almost turns my dangerous nature mild. +Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man +Was born of woman. +Forgive my general and exceptless rashness, +You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim +One honest man--mistake me not--but one; +No more, I pray,--and he's a steward. +How fain would I have hated all mankind! +And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee, +I fell with curses. +Methinks thou art more honest now than wise; +For, by oppressing and betraying me, +Thou mightst have sooner got another service: +For many so arrive at second masters, +Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true-- +For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure-- +Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous, +If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts, +Expecting in return twenty for one? + +FLAVIUS +No, my most worthy master; in whose breast +Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late: +You should have fear'd false times when you did feast: +Suspect still comes where an estate is least. +That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love, +Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind, +Care of your food and living; and, believe it, +My most honour'd lord, +For any benefit that points to me, +Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange +For this one wish, that you had power and wealth +To requite me, by making rich yourself. + +TIMON +Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man, +Here, take: the gods out of my misery +Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy; +But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men; +Hate all, curse all, show charity to none, +But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone, +Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs +What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em, +Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like +blasted woods, +And may diseases lick up their false bloods! +And so farewell and thrive. + +FLAVIUS +O, let me stay, +And comfort you, my master. + +TIMON +If thou hatest curses, +Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free: +Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee. + +Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The woods. Before Timon's cave. + +Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave +Painter +As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where +he abides. + +Poet +What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold +for true, that he's so full of gold? + +Painter +Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and +Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor +straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said +he gave unto his steward a mighty sum. + +Poet +Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends. + +Painter +Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens +again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore +'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this +supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in +us; and is very likely to load our purposes with +what they travail for, if it be a just true report +that goes of his having. + +Poet +What have you now to present unto him? + +Painter +Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will +promise him an excellent piece. + +Poet +I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent +that's coming toward him. + +Painter +Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the +time: it opens the eyes of expectation: +performance is ever the duller for his act; and, +but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the +deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is +most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind +of will or testament which argues a great sickness +in his judgment that makes it. + +TIMON comes from his cave, behind + +TIMON +[Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a +man so bad as is thyself. + +Poet +I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for +him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire +against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery +of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency. + +TIMON +[Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in +thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in +other men? Do so, I have gold for thee. + +Poet +Nay, let's seek him: +Then do we sin against our own estate, +When we may profit meet, and come too late. + +Painter +True; +When the day serves, before black-corner'd night, +Find what thou want'st by free and offer'd light. Come. + +TIMON +[Aside] I'll meet you at the turn. What a +god's gold, +That he is worshipp'd in a baser temple +Than where swine feed! +'Tis thou that rigg'st the bark and plough'st the foam, +Settlest admired reverence in a slave: +To thee be worship! and thy saints for aye +Be crown'd with plagues that thee alone obey! +Fit I meet them. + +Coming forward + +Poet +Hail, worthy Timon! + +Painter +Our late noble master! + +TIMON +Have I once lived to see two honest men? + +Poet +Sir, +Having often of your open bounty tasted, +Hearing you were retired, your friends fall'n off, +Whose thankless natures--O abhorred spirits!-- +Not all the whips of heaven are large enough: +What! to you, +Whose star-like nobleness gave life and influence +To their whole being! I am rapt and cannot cover +The monstrous bulk of this ingratitude +With any size of words. + +TIMON +Let it go naked, men may see't the better: +You that are honest, by being what you are, +Make them best seen and known. + +Painter +He and myself +Have travail'd in the great shower of your gifts, +And sweetly felt it. + +TIMON +Ay, you are honest men. + +Painter +We are hither come to offer you our service. + +TIMON +Most honest men! Why, how shall I requite you? +Can you eat roots, and drink cold water? no. + +Both +What we can do, we'll do, to do you service. + +TIMON +Ye're honest men: ye've heard that I have gold; +I am sure you have: speak truth; ye're honest men. + +Painter +So it is said, my noble lord; but therefore +Came not my friend nor I. + +TIMON +Good honest men! Thou draw'st a counterfeit +Best in all Athens: thou'rt, indeed, the best; +Thou counterfeit'st most lively. + +Painter +So, so, my lord. + +TIMON +E'en so, sir, as I say. And, for thy fiction, +Why, thy verse swells with stuff so fine and smooth +That thou art even natural in thine art. +But, for all this, my honest-natured friends, +I must needs say you have a little fault: +Marry, 'tis not monstrous in you, neither wish I +You take much pains to mend. + +Both +Beseech your honour +To make it known to us. + +TIMON +You'll take it ill. + +Both +Most thankfully, my lord. + +TIMON +Will you, indeed? + +Both +Doubt it not, worthy lord. + +TIMON +There's never a one of you but trusts a knave, +That mightily deceives you. + +Both +Do we, my lord? + +TIMON +Ay, and you hear him cog, see him dissemble, +Know his gross patchery, love him, feed him, +Keep in your bosom: yet remain assured +That he's a made-up villain. + +Painter +I know none such, my lord. + +Poet +Nor I. + +TIMON +Look you, I love you well; I'll give you gold, +Rid me these villains from your companies: +Hang them or stab them, drown them in a draught, +Confound them by some course, and come to me, +I'll give you gold enough. + +Both +Name them, my lord, let's know them. + +TIMON +You that way and you this, but two in company; +Each man apart, all single and alone, +Yet an arch-villain keeps him company. +If where thou art two villains shall not be, +Come not near him. If thou wouldst not reside +But where one villain is, then him abandon. +Hence, pack! there's gold; you came for gold, ye slaves: + +To Painter + +You have work'd for me; there's payment for you: hence! + +To Poet + +You are an alchemist; make gold of that. +Out, rascal dogs! + +Beats them out, and then retires to his cave + +Enter FLAVIUS and two Senators + +FLAVIUS +It is in vain that you would speak with Timon; +For he is set so only to himself +That nothing but himself which looks like man +Is friendly with him. + +First Senator +Bring us to his cave: +It is our part and promise to the Athenians +To speak with Timon. + +Second Senator +At all times alike +Men are not still the same: 'twas time and griefs +That framed him thus: time, with his fairer hand, +Offering the fortunes of his former days, +The former man may make him. Bring us to him, +And chance it as it may. + +FLAVIUS +Here is his cave. +Peace and content be here! Lord Timon! Timon! +Look out, and speak to friends: the Athenians, +By two of their most reverend senate, greet thee: +Speak to them, noble Timon. + +TIMON comes from his cave + +TIMON +Thou sun, that comfort'st, burn! Speak, and +be hang'd: +For each true word, a blister! and each false +Be as cauterizing to the root o' the tongue, +Consuming it with speaking! + +First Senator +Worthy Timon,-- + +TIMON +Of none but such as you, and you of Timon. + +First Senator +The senators of Athens greet thee, Timon. + +TIMON +I thank them; and would send them back the plague, +Could I but catch it for them. + +First Senator +O, forget +What we are sorry for ourselves in thee. +The senators with one consent of love +Entreat thee back to Athens; who have thought +On special dignities, which vacant lie +For thy best use and wearing. + +Second Senator +They confess +Toward thee forgetfulness too general, gross: +Which now the public body, which doth seldom +Play the recanter, feeling in itself +A lack of Timon's aid, hath sense withal +Of its own fail, restraining aid to Timon; +And send forth us, to make their sorrow'd render, +Together with a recompense more fruitful +Than their offence can weigh down by the dram; +Ay, even such heaps and sums of love and wealth +As shall to thee blot out what wrongs were theirs +And write in thee the figures of their love, +Ever to read them thine. + +TIMON +You witch me in it; +Surprise me to the very brink of tears: +Lend me a fool's heart and a woman's eyes, +And I'll beweep these comforts, worthy senators. + +First Senator +Therefore, so please thee to return with us +And of our Athens, thine and ours, to take +The captainship, thou shalt be met with thanks, +Allow'd with absolute power and thy good name +Live with authority: so soon we shall drive back +Of Alcibiades the approaches wild, +Who, like a boar too savage, doth root up +His country's peace. + +Second Senator +And shakes his threatening sword +Against the walls of Athens. + +First Senator +Therefore, Timon,-- + +TIMON +Well, sir, I will; therefore, I will, sir; thus: +If Alcibiades kill my countrymen, +Let Alcibiades know this of Timon, +That Timon cares not. But if be sack fair Athens, +And take our goodly aged men by the beards, +Giving our holy virgins to the stain +Of contumelious, beastly, mad-brain'd war, +Then let him know, and tell him Timon speaks it, +In pity of our aged and our youth, +I cannot choose but tell him, that I care not, +And let him take't at worst; for their knives care not, +While you have throats to answer: for myself, +There's not a whittle in the unruly camp +But I do prize it at my love before +The reverend'st throat in Athens. So I leave you +To the protection of the prosperous gods, +As thieves to keepers. + +FLAVIUS +Stay not, all's in vain. + +TIMON +Why, I was writing of my epitaph; +it will be seen to-morrow: my long sickness +Of health and living now begins to mend, +And nothing brings me all things. Go, live still; +Be Alcibiades your plague, you his, +And last so long enough! + +First Senator +We speak in vain. + +TIMON +But yet I love my country, and am not +One that rejoices in the common wreck, +As common bruit doth put it. + +First Senator +That's well spoke. + +TIMON +Commend me to my loving countrymen,-- + +First Senator +These words become your lips as they pass +thorough them. + +Second Senator +And enter in our ears like great triumphers +In their applauding gates. + +TIMON +Commend me to them, +And tell them that, to ease them of their griefs, +Their fears of hostile strokes, their aches, losses, +Their pangs of love, with other incident throes +That nature's fragile vessel doth sustain +In life's uncertain voyage, I will some kindness do them: +I'll teach them to prevent wild Alcibiades' wrath. + +First Senator +I like this well; he will return again. + +TIMON +I have a tree, which grows here in my close, +That mine own use invites me to cut down, +And shortly must I fell it: tell my friends, +Tell Athens, in the sequence of degree +From high to low throughout, that whoso please +To stop affliction, let him take his haste, +Come hither, ere my tree hath felt the axe, +And hang himself. I pray you, do my greeting. + +FLAVIUS +Trouble him no further; thus you still shall find him. + +TIMON +Come not to me again: but say to Athens, +Timon hath made his everlasting mansion +Upon the beached verge of the salt flood; +Who once a day with his embossed froth +The turbulent surge shall cover: thither come, +And let my grave-stone be your oracle. +Lips, let sour words go by and language end: +What is amiss plague and infection mend! +Graves only be men's works and death their gain! +Sun, hide thy beams! Timon hath done his reign. + +Retires to his cave + +First Senator +His discontents are unremoveably +Coupled to nature. + +Second Senator +Our hope in him is dead: let us return, +And strain what other means is left unto us +In our dear peril. + +First Senator +It requires swift foot. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before the walls of Athens. + +Enter two Senators and a Messenger +First Senator +Thou hast painfully discover'd: are his files +As full as thy report? + +Messenger +have spoke the least: +Besides, his expedition promises +Present approach. + +Second Senator +We stand much hazard, if they bring not Timon. + +Messenger +I met a courier, one mine ancient friend; +Whom, though in general part we were opposed, +Yet our old love made a particular force, +And made us speak like friends: this man was riding +From Alcibiades to Timon's cave, +With letters of entreaty, which imported +His fellowship i' the cause against your city, +In part for his sake moved. + +First Senator +Here come our brothers. + +Enter the Senators from TIMON + +Third Senator +No talk of Timon, nothing of him expect. +The enemies' drum is heard, and fearful scouring +Doth choke the air with dust: in, and prepare: +Ours is the fall, I fear; our foes the snare. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The woods. Timon's cave, and a rude tomb seen. + +Enter a Soldier, seeking TIMON +Soldier +By all description this should be the place. +Who's here? speak, ho! No answer! What is this? +Timon is dead, who hath outstretch'd his span: +Some beast rear'd this; there does not live a man. +Dead, sure; and this his grave. What's on this tomb +I cannot read; the character I'll take with wax: +Our captain hath in every figure skill, +An aged interpreter, though young in days: +Before proud Athens he's set down by this, +Whose fall the mark of his ambition is. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Before the walls of Athens. + +Trumpets sound. Enter ALCIBIADES with his powers +ALCIBIADES +Sound to this coward and lascivious town +Our terrible approach. + +A parley sounded + +Enter Senators on the walls + +Till now you have gone on and fill'd the time +With all licentious measure, making your wills +The scope of justice; till now myself and such +As slept within the shadow of your power +Hav e wander'd with our traversed arms and breathed +Our sufferance vainly: now the time is flush, +When crouching marrow in the bearer strong +Cries of itself 'No more:' now breathless wrong +Shall sit and pant in your great chairs of ease, +And pursy insolence shall break his wind +With fear and horrid flight. + +First Senator +Noble and young, +When thy first griefs were but a mere conceit, +Ere thou hadst power or we had cause of fear, +We sent to thee, to give thy rages balm, +To wipe out our ingratitude with loves +Above their quantity. + +Second Senator +So did we woo +Transformed Timon to our city's love +By humble message and by promised means: +We were not all unkind, nor all deserve +The common stroke of war. + +First Senator +These walls of ours +Were not erected by their hands from whom +You have received your griefs; nor are they such +That these great towers, trophies and schools +should fall +For private faults in them. + +Second Senator +Nor are they living +Who were the motives that you first went out; +Shame that they wanted cunning, in excess +Hath broke their hearts. March, noble lord, +Into our city with thy banners spread: +By decimation, and a tithed death-- +If thy revenges hunger for that food +Which nature loathes--take thou the destined tenth, +And by the hazard of the spotted die +Let die the spotted. + +First Senator +All have not offended; +For those that were, it is not square to take +On those that are, revenges: crimes, like lands, +Are not inherited. Then, dear countryman, +Bring in thy ranks, but leave without thy rage: +Spare thy Athenian cradle and those kin +Which in the bluster of thy wrath must fall +With those that have offended: like a shepherd, +Approach the fold and cull the infected forth, +But kill not all together. + +Second Senator +What thou wilt, +Thou rather shalt enforce it with thy smile +Than hew to't with thy sword. + +First Senator +Set but thy foot +Against our rampired gates, and they shall ope; +So thou wilt send thy gentle heart before, +To say thou'lt enter friendly. + +Second Senator +Throw thy glove, +Or any token of thine honour else, +That thou wilt use the wars as thy redress +And not as our confusion, all thy powers +Shall make their harbour in our town, till we +Have seal'd thy full desire. + +ALCIBIADES +Then there's my glove; +Descend, and open your uncharged ports: +Those enemies of Timon's and mine own +Whom you yourselves shall set out for reproof +Fall and no more: and, to atone your fears +With my more noble meaning, not a man +Shall pass his quarter, or offend the stream +Of regular justice in your city's bounds, +But shall be render'd to your public laws +At heaviest answer. + +Both +'Tis most nobly spoken. + +ALCIBIADES +Descend, and keep your words. + +The Senators descend, and open the gates + +Enter Soldier + +Soldier +My noble general, Timon is dead; +Entomb'd upon the very hem o' the sea; +And on his grave-stone this insculpture, which +With wax I brought away, whose soft impression +Interprets for my poor ignorance. + +ALCIBIADES +[Reads the epitaph] 'Here lies a +wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft: +Seek not my name: a plague consume you wicked +caitiffs left! +Here lie I, Timon; who, alive, all living men did hate: +Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay +not here thy gait.' +These well express in thee thy latter spirits: +Though thou abhorr'dst in us our human griefs, +Scorn'dst our brain's flow and those our +droplets which +From niggard nature fall, yet rich conceit +Taught thee to make vast Neptune weep for aye +On thy low grave, on faults forgiven. Dead +Is noble Timon: of whose memory +Hereafter more. Bring me into your city, +And I will use the olive with my sword, +Make war breed peace, make peace stint war, make each +Prescribe to other as each other's leech. +Let our drums strike. + +Exeunt +Titus Andronicus +Shakespeare homepage | Titus Andronicus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol. + +The Tomb of the ANDRONICI appearing; the Tribunes and Senators aloft. Enter, below, from one side, SATURNINUS and his Followers; and, from the other side, BASSIANUS and his Followers; with drum and colours +SATURNINUS +Noble patricians, patrons of my right, +Defend the justice of my cause with arms, +And, countrymen, my loving followers, +Plead my successive title with your swords: +I am his first-born son, that was the last +That wore the imperial diadem of Rome; +Then let my father's honours live in me, +Nor wrong mine age with this indignity. + +BASSIANUS +Romans, friends, followers, favorers of my right, +If ever Bassianus, Caesar's son, +Were gracious in the eyes of royal Rome, +Keep then this passage to the Capitol +And suffer not dishonour to approach +The imperial seat, to virtue consecrate, +To justice, continence and nobility; +But let desert in pure election shine, +And, Romans, fight for freedom in your choice. + +Enter MARCUS ANDRONICUS, aloft, with the crown + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Princes, that strive by factions and by friends +Ambitiously for rule and empery, +Know that the people of Rome, for whom we stand +A special party, have, by common voice, +In election for the Roman empery, +Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius +For many good and great deserts to Rome: +A nobler man, a braver warrior, +Lives not this day within the city walls: +He by the senate is accit'd home +From weary wars against the barbarous Goths; +That, with his sons, a terror to our foes, +Hath yoked a nation strong, train'd up in arms. +Ten years are spent since first he undertook +This cause of Rome and chastised with arms +Our enemies' pride: five times he hath return'd +Bleeding to Rome, bearing his valiant sons +In coffins from the field; +And now at last, laden with horror's spoils, +Returns the good Andronicus to Rome, +Renowned Titus, flourishing in arms. +Let us entreat, by honour of his name, +Whom worthily you would have now succeed. +And in the Capitol and senate's right, +Whom you pretend to honour and adore, +That you withdraw you and abate your strength; +Dismiss your followers and, as suitors should, +Plead your deserts in peace and humbleness. + +SATURNINUS +How fair the tribune speaks to calm my thoughts! + +BASSIANUS +Marcus Andronicus, so I do ally +In thy uprightness and integrity, +And so I love and honour thee and thine, +Thy noble brother Titus and his sons, +And her to whom my thoughts are humbled all, +Gracious Lavinia, Rome's rich ornament, +That I will here dismiss my loving friends, +And to my fortunes and the people's favor +Commit my cause in balance to be weigh'd. + +Exeunt the followers of BASSIANUS + +SATURNINUS +Friends, that have been thus forward in my right, +I thank you all and here dismiss you all, +And to the love and favor of my country +Commit myself, my person and the cause. + +Exeunt the followers of SATURNINUS + +Rome, be as just and gracious unto me +As I am confident and kind to thee. +Open the gates, and let me in. + +BASSIANUS +Tribunes, and me, a poor competitor. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS go up into the Capitol + +Enter a Captain + +Captain +Romans, make way: the good Andronicus. +Patron of virtue, Rome's best champion, +Successful in the battles that he fights, +With honour and with fortune is return'd +From where he circumscribed with his sword, +And brought to yoke, the enemies of Rome. + +Drums and trumpets sounded. Enter MARTIUS and MUTIUS; After them, two Men bearing a coffin covered with black; then LUCIUS and QUINTUS. After them, TITUS ANDRONICUS; and then TAMORA, with ALARBUS, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, AARON, and other Goths, prisoners; Soldiers and people following. The Bearers set down the coffin, and TITUS speaks + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hail, Rome, victorious in thy mourning weeds! +Lo, as the bark, that hath discharged her fraught, +Returns with precious jading to the bay +From whence at first she weigh'd her anchorage, +Cometh Andronicus, bound with laurel boughs, +To re-salute his country with his tears, +Tears of true joy for his return to Rome. +Thou great defender of this Capitol, +Stand gracious to the rites that we intend! +Romans, of five and twenty valiant sons, +Half of the number that King Priam had, +Behold the poor remains, alive and dead! +These that survive let Rome reward with love; +These that I bring unto their latest home, +With burial amongst their ancestors: +Here Goths have given me leave to sheathe my sword. +Titus, unkind and careless of thine own, +Why suffer'st thou thy sons, unburied yet, +To hover on the dreadful shore of Styx? +Make way to lay them by their brethren. + +The tomb is opened + +There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, +And sleep in peace, slain in your country's wars! +O sacred receptacle of my joys, +Sweet cell of virtue and nobility, +How many sons of mine hast thou in store, +That thou wilt never render to me more! + +LUCIUS +Give us the proudest prisoner of the Goths, +That we may hew his limbs, and on a pile +Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, +Before this earthy prison of their bones; +That so the shadows be not unappeased, +Nor we disturb'd with prodigies on earth. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I give him you, the noblest that survives, +The eldest son of this distressed queen. + +TAMORA +Stay, Roman brethren! Gracious conqueror, +Victorious Titus, rue the tears I shed, +A mother's tears in passion for her son: +And if thy sons were ever dear to thee, +O, think my son to be as dear to me! +Sufficeth not that we are brought to Rome, +To beautify thy triumphs and return, +Captive to thee and to thy Roman yoke, +But must my sons be slaughter'd in the streets, +For valiant doings in their country's cause? +O, if to fight for king and commonweal +Were piety in thine, it is in these. +Andronicus, stain not thy tomb with blood: +Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods? +Draw near them then in being merciful: +Sweet mercy is nobility's true badge: +Thrice noble Titus, spare my first-born son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patient yourself, madam, and pardon me. +These are their brethren, whom you Goths beheld +Alive and dead, and for their brethren slain +Religiously they ask a sacrifice: +To this your son is mark'd, and die he must, +To appease their groaning shadows that are gone. + +LUCIUS +Away with him! and make a fire straight; +And with our swords, upon a pile of wood, +Let's hew his limbs till they be clean consumed. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS, and MUTIUS, with ALARBUS + +TAMORA +O cruel, irreligious piety! + +CHIRON +Was ever Scythia half so barbarous? + +DEMETRIUS +Oppose not Scythia to ambitious Rome. +Alarbus goes to rest; and we survive +To tremble under Titus' threatening looks. +Then, madam, stand resolved, but hope withal +The self-same gods that arm'd the Queen of Troy +With opportunity of sharp revenge +Upon the Thracian tyrant in his tent, +May favor Tamora, the Queen of Goths-- +When Goths were Goths and Tamora was queen-- +To quit the bloody wrongs upon her foes. + +Re-enter LUCIUS, QUINTUS, MARTIUS and MUTIUS, with their swords bloody + +LUCIUS +See, lord and father, how we have perform'd +Our Roman rites: Alarbus' limbs are lopp'd, +And entrails feed the sacrificing fire, +Whose smoke, like incense, doth perfume the sky. +Remaineth nought, but to inter our brethren, +And with loud 'larums welcome them to Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Let it be so; and let Andronicus +Make this his latest farewell to their souls. + +Trumpets sounded, and the coffin laid in the tomb + +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons; +Rome's readiest champions, repose you here in rest, +Secure from worldly chances and mishaps! +Here lurks no treason, here no envy swells, +Here grow no damned grudges; here are no storms, +No noise, but silence and eternal sleep: +In peace and honour rest you here, my sons! + +Enter LAVINIA + +LAVINIA +In peace and honour live Lord Titus long; +My noble lord and father, live in fame! +Lo, at this tomb my tributary tears +I render, for my brethren's obsequies; +And at thy feet I kneel, with tears of joy, +Shed on the earth, for thy return to Rome: +O, bless me here with thy victorious hand, +Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Kind Rome, that hast thus lovingly reserved +The cordial of mine age to glad my heart! +Lavinia, live; outlive thy father's days, +And fame's eternal date, for virtue's praise! + +Enter, below, MARCUS ANDRONICUS and Tribunes; re-enter SATURNINUS and BASSIANUS, attended + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Long live Lord Titus, my beloved brother, +Gracious triumpher in the eyes of Rome! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Thanks, gentle tribune, noble brother Marcus. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And welcome, nephews, from successful wars, +You that survive, and you that sleep in fame! +Fair lords, your fortunes are alike in all, +That in your country's service drew your swords: +But safer triumph is this funeral pomp, +That hath aspired to Solon's happiness +And triumphs over chance in honour's bed. +Titus Andronicus, the people of Rome, +Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, +Send thee by me, their tribune and their trust, +This palliament of white and spotless hue; +And name thee in election for the empire, +With these our late-deceased emperor's sons: +Be candidatus then, and put it on, +And help to set a head on headless Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +A better head her glorious body fits +Than his that shakes for age and feebleness: +What should I don this robe, and trouble you? +Be chosen with proclamations to-day, +To-morrow yield up rule, resign my life, +And set abroad new business for you all? +Rome, I have been thy soldier forty years, +And led my country's strength successfully, +And buried one and twenty valiant sons, +Knighted in field, slain manfully in arms, +In right and service of their noble country +Give me a staff of honour for mine age, +But not a sceptre to control the world: +Upright he held it, lords, that held it last. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, thou shalt obtain and ask the empery. + +SATURNINUS +Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou tell? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, Prince Saturninus. + +SATURNINUS +Romans, do me right: +Patricians, draw your swords: and sheathe them not +Till Saturninus be Rome's emperor. +Andronicus, would thou wert shipp'd to hell, +Rather than rob me of the people's hearts! + +LUCIUS +Proud Saturnine, interrupter of the good +That noble-minded Titus means to thee! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Content thee, prince; I will restore to thee +The people's hearts, and wean them from themselves. + +BASSIANUS +Andronicus, I do not flatter thee, +But honour thee, and will do till I die: +My faction if thou strengthen with thy friends, +I will most thankful be; and thanks to men +Of noble minds is honourable meed. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +People of Rome, and people's tribunes here, +I ask your voices and your suffrages: +Will you bestow them friendly on Andronicus? + +Tribunes +To gratify the good Andronicus, +And gratulate his safe return to Rome, +The people will accept whom he admits. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Tribunes, I thank you: and this suit I make, +That you create your emperor's eldest son, +Lord Saturnine; whose virtues will, I hope, +Reflect on Rome as Titan's rays on earth, +And ripen justice in this commonweal: +Then, if you will elect by my advice, +Crown him and say 'Long live our emperor!' + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +With voices and applause of every sort, +Patricians and plebeians, we create +Lord Saturninus Rome's great emperor, +And say 'Long live our Emperor Saturnine!' + +A long flourish till they come down + +SATURNINUS +Titus Andronicus, for thy favors done +To us in our election this day, +I give thee thanks in part of thy deserts, +And will with deeds requite thy gentleness: +And, for an onset, Titus, to advance +Thy name and honourable family, +Lavinia will I make my empress, +Rome's royal mistress, mistress of my heart, +And in the sacred Pantheon her espouse: +Tell me, Andronicus, doth this motion please thee? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It doth, my worthy lord; and in this match +I hold me highly honour'd of your grace: +And here in sight of Rome to Saturnine, +King and commander of our commonweal, +The wide world's emperor, do I consecrate +My sword, my chariot and my prisoners; +Presents well worthy Rome's imperial lord: +Receive them then, the tribute that I owe, +Mine honour's ensigns humbled at thy feet. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, noble Titus, father of my life! +How proud I am of thee and of thy gifts +Rome shall record, and when I do forget +The least of these unspeakable deserts, +Romans, forget your fealty to me. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +[To TAMORA] Now, madam, are you prisoner to +an emperor; +To him that, for your honour and your state, +Will use you nobly and your followers. + +SATURNINUS +A goodly lady, trust me; of the hue +That I would choose, were I to choose anew. +Clear up, fair queen, that cloudy countenance: +Though chance of war hath wrought this change of cheer, +Thou comest not to be made a scorn in Rome: +Princely shall be thy usage every way. +Rest on my word, and let not discontent +Daunt all your hopes: madam, he comforts you +Can make you greater than the Queen of Goths. +Lavinia, you are not displeased with this? + +LAVINIA +Not I, my lord; sith true nobility +Warrants these words in princely courtesy. + +SATURNINUS +Thanks, sweet Lavinia. Romans, let us go; +Ransomless here we set our prisoners free: +Proclaim our honours, lords, with trump and drum. + +Flourish. SATURNINUS courts TAMORA in dumb show + +BASSIANUS +Lord Titus, by your leave, this maid is mine. + +Seizing LAVINIA + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +How, sir! are you in earnest then, my lord? + +BASSIANUS +Ay, noble Titus; and resolved withal +To do myself this reason and this right. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +'Suum cuique' is our Roman justice: +This prince in justice seizeth but his own. + +LUCIUS +And that he will, and shall, if Lucius live. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, avaunt! Where is the emperor's guard? +Treason, my lord! Lavinia is surprised! + +SATURNINUS +Surprised! by whom? + +BASSIANUS +By him that justly may +Bear his betroth'd from all the world away. + +Exeunt BASSIANUS and MARCUS with LAVINIA + +MUTIUS +Brothers, help to convey her hence away, +And with my sword I'll keep this door safe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Follow, my lord, and I'll soon bring her back. + +MUTIUS +My lord, you pass not here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, villain boy! +Barr'st me my way in Rome? + +Stabbing MUTIUS + +MUTIUS +Help, Lucius, help! + +Dies + +During the fray, SATURNINUS, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON go out and re-enter, above + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +My lord, you are unjust, and, more than so, +In wrongful quarrel you have slain your son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Nor thou, nor he, are any sons of mine; +My sons would never so dishonour me: +Traitor, restore Lavinia to the emperor. + +LUCIUS +Dead, if you will; but not to be his wife, +That is another's lawful promised love. + +Exit + +SATURNINUS +No, Titus, no; the emperor needs her not, +Nor her, nor thee, nor any of thy stock: +I'll trust, by leisure, him that mocks me once; +Thee never, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, +Confederates all thus to dishonour me. +Was there none else in Rome to make a stale, +But Saturnine? Full well, Andronicus, +Agree these deeds with that proud brag of thine, +That said'st I begg'd the empire at thy hands. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O monstrous! what reproachful words are these? + +SATURNINUS +But go thy ways; go, give that changing piece +To him that flourish'd for her with his sword +A valiant son-in-law thou shalt enjoy; +One fit to bandy with thy lawless sons, +To ruffle in the commonwealth of Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +These words are razors to my wounded heart. + +SATURNINUS +And therefore, lovely Tamora, queen of Goths, +That like the stately Phoebe 'mongst her nymphs +Dost overshine the gallant'st dames of Rome, +If thou be pleased with this my sudden choice, +Behold, I choose thee, Tamora, for my bride, +And will create thee empress of Rome, +Speak, Queen of Goths, dost thou applaud my choice? +And here I swear by all the Roman gods, +Sith priest and holy water are so near +And tapers burn so bright and every thing +In readiness for Hymenaeus stand, +I will not re-salute the streets of Rome, +Or climb my palace, till from forth this place +I lead espoused my bride along with me. + +TAMORA +And here, in sight of heaven, to Rome I swear, +If Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths, +She will a handmaid be to his desires, +A loving nurse, a mother to his youth. + +SATURNINUS +Ascend, fair queen, Pantheon. Lords, accompany +Your noble emperor and his lovely bride, +Sent by the heavens for Prince Saturnine, +Whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered: +There shall we consummate our spousal rites. + +Exeunt all but TITUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I am not bid to wait upon this bride. +Titus, when wert thou wont to walk alone, +Dishonour'd thus, and challenged of wrongs? + +Re-enter MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O Titus, see, O, see what thou hast done! +In a bad quarrel slain a virtuous son. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +No, foolish tribune, no; no son of mine, +Nor thou, nor these, confederates in the deed +That hath dishonour'd all our family; +Unworthy brother, and unworthy sons! + +LUCIUS +But let us give him burial, as becomes; +Give Mutius burial with our brethren. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Traitors, away! he rests not in this tomb: +This monument five hundred years hath stood, +Which I have sumptuously re-edified: +Here none but soldiers and Rome's servitors +Repose in fame; none basely slain in brawls: +Bury him where you can; he comes not here. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, this is impiety in you: +My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him +He must be buried with his brethren. + +QUINTUS MARTIUS +And shall, or him we will accompany. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +'And shall!' what villain was it that spake +that word? + +QUINTUS +He that would vouch it in any place but here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +What, would you bury him in my despite? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +No, noble Titus, but entreat of thee +To pardon Mutius and to bury him. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Marcus, even thou hast struck upon my crest, +And, with these boys, mine honour thou hast wounded: +My foes I do repute you every one; +So, trouble me no more, but get you gone. + +MARTIUS +He is not with himself; let us withdraw. + +QUINTUS +Not I, till Mutius' bones be buried. + +MARCUS and the Sons of TITUS kneel + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Brother, for in that name doth nature plead,-- + +QUINTUS +Father, and in that name doth nature speak,-- + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Speak thou no more, if all the rest will speed. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Renowned Titus, more than half my soul,-- + +LUCIUS +Dear father, soul and substance of us all,-- + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Suffer thy brother Marcus to inter +His noble nephew here in virtue's nest, +That died in honour and Lavinia's cause. +Thou art a Roman; be not barbarous: +The Greeks upon advice did bury Ajax +That slew himself; and wise Laertes' son +Did graciously plead for his funerals: +Let not young Mutius, then, that was thy joy +Be barr'd his entrance here. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Rise, Marcus, rise. +The dismall'st day is this that e'er I saw, +To be dishonour'd by my sons in Rome! +Well, bury him, and bury me the next. + +MUTIUS is put into the tomb + +LUCIUS +There lie thy bones, sweet Mutius, with thy friends, +Till we with trophies do adorn thy tomb. + +All +[Kneeling] No man shed tears for noble Mutius; +He lives in fame that died in virtue's cause. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My lord, to step out of these dreary dumps, +How comes it that the subtle Queen of Goths +Is of a sudden thus advanced in Rome? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I know not, Marcus; but I know it is, +Whether by device or no, the heavens can tell: +Is she not then beholding to the man +That brought her for this high good turn so far? +Yes, and will nobly him remunerate. + +Flourish. Re-enter, from one side, SATURNINUS attended, TAMORA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON and AARON; from the other, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, and others + +SATURNINUS +So, Bassianus, you have play'd your prize: +God give you joy, sir, of your gallant bride! + +BASSIANUS +And you of yours, my lord! I say no more, +Nor wish no less; and so, I take my leave. + +SATURNINUS +Traitor, if Rome have law or we have power, +Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape. + +BASSIANUS +Rape, call you it, my lord, to seize my own, +My truth-betrothed love and now my wife? +But let the laws of Rome determine all; +Meanwhile I am possess'd of that is mine. + +SATURNINUS +'Tis good, sir: you are very short with us; +But, if we live, we'll be as sharp with you. + +BASSIANUS +My lord, what I have done, as best I may, +Answer I must and shall do with my life. +Only thus much I give your grace to know: +By all the duties that I owe to Rome, +This noble gentleman, Lord Titus here, +Is in opinion and in honour wrong'd; +That in the rescue of Lavinia +With his own hand did slay his youngest son, +In zeal to you and highly moved to wrath +To be controll'd in that he frankly gave: +Receive him, then, to favor, Saturnine, +That hath express'd himself in all his deeds +A father and a friend to thee and Rome. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Prince Bassianus, leave to plead my deeds: +'Tis thou and those that have dishonour'd me. +Rome and the righteous heavens be my judge, +How I have loved and honour'd Saturnine! + +TAMORA +My worthy lord, if ever Tamora +Were gracious in those princely eyes of thine, +Then hear me speak in indifferently for all; +And at my suit, sweet, pardon what is past. + +SATURNINUS +What, madam! be dishonour'd openly, +And basely put it up without revenge? + +TAMORA +Not so, my lord; the gods of Rome forfend +I should be author to dishonour you! +But on mine honour dare I undertake +For good Lord Titus' innocence in all; +Whose fury not dissembled speaks his griefs: +Then, at my suit, look graciously on him; +Lose not so noble a friend on vain suppose, +Nor with sour looks afflict his gentle heart. + +Aside to SATURNINUS + +be won at last; +Dissemble all your griefs and discontents: +You are but newly planted in your throne; +Lest, then, the people, and patricians too, +Upon a just survey, take Titus' part, +And so supplant you for ingratitude, +Which Rome reputes to be a heinous sin, +Yield at entreats; and then let me alone: +I'll find a day to massacre them all +And raze their faction and their family, +The cruel father and his traitorous sons, +To whom I sued for my dear son's life, +And make them know what 'tis to let a queen +Kneel in the streets and beg for grace in vain. + +Aloud + +Come, come, sweet emperor; come, Andronicus; +Take up this good old man, and cheer the heart +That dies in tempest of thy angry frown. + +SATURNINUS +Rise, Titus, rise; my empress hath prevail'd. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I thank your majesty, and her, my lord: +These words, these looks, infuse new life in me. + +TAMORA +Titus, I am incorporate in Rome, +A Roman now adopted happily, +And must advise the emperor for his good. +This day all quarrels die, Andronicus; +And let it be mine honour, good my lord, +That I have reconciled your friends and you. +For you, Prince Bassianus, I have pass'd +My word and promise to the emperor, +That you will be more mild and tractable. +And fear not lords, and you, Lavinia; +By my advice, all humbled on your knees, +You shall ask pardon of his majesty. + +LUCIUS +We do, and vow to heaven and to his highness, +That what we did was mildly as we might, +Tendering our sister's honour and our own. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +That, on mine honour, here I do protest. + +SATURNINUS +Away, and talk not; trouble us no more. + +TAMORA +Nay, nay, sweet emperor, we must all be friends: +The tribune and his nephews kneel for grace; +I will not be denied: sweet heart, look back. + +SATURNINUS +Marcus, for thy sake and thy brother's here, +And at my lovely Tamora's entreats, +I do remit these young men's heinous faults: Stand up. +Lavinia, though you left me like a churl, +I found a friend, and sure as death I swore +I would not part a bachelor from the priest. +Come, if the emperor's court can feast two brides, +You are my guest, Lavinia, and your friends. +This day shall be a love-day, Tamora. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +To-morrow, an it please your majesty +To hunt the panther and the hart with me, +With horn and hound we'll give your grace bonjour. + +SATURNINUS +Be it so, Titus, and gramercy too. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Palace. + +Enter AARON +AARON +Now climbeth Tamora Olympus' top, +Safe out of fortune's shot; and sits aloft, +Secure of thunder's crack or lightning flash; +Advanced above pale envy's threatening reach. +As when the golden sun salutes the morn, +And, having gilt the ocean with his beams, +Gallops the zodiac in his glistering coach, +And overlooks the highest-peering hills; +So Tamora: +Upon her wit doth earthly honour wait, +And virtue stoops and trembles at her frown. +Then, Aaron, arm thy heart, and fit thy thoughts, +To mount aloft with thy imperial mistress, +And mount her pitch, whom thou in triumph long +Hast prisoner held, fetter'd in amorous chains +And faster bound to Aaron's charming eyes +Than is Prometheus tied to Caucasus. +Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts! +I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold, +To wait upon this new-made empress. +To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen, +This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph, +This siren, that will charm Rome's Saturnine, +And see his shipwreck and his commonweal's. +Holloa! what storm is this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, braving + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, thy years want wit, thy wit wants edge, +And manners, to intrude where I am graced; +And may, for aught thou know'st, affected be. + +CHIRON +Demetrius, thou dost over-ween in all; +And so in this, to bear me down with braves. +'Tis not the difference of a year or two +Makes me less gracious or thee more fortunate: +I am as able and as fit as thou +To serve, and to deserve my mistress' grace; +And that my sword upon thee shall approve, +And plead my passions for Lavinia's love. + +AARON +[Aside] Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep +the peace. + +DEMETRIUS +Why, boy, although our mother, unadvised, +Gave you a dancing-rapier by your side, +Are you so desperate grown, to threat your friends? +Go to; have your lath glued within your sheath +Till you know better how to handle it. + +CHIRON +Meanwhile, sir, with the little skill I have, +Full well shalt thou perceive how much I dare. + +DEMETRIUS +Ay, boy, grow ye so brave? + +They draw + +AARON +[Coming forward] Why, how now, lords! +So near the emperor's palace dare you draw, +And maintain such a quarrel openly? +Full well I wot the ground of all this grudge: +I would not for a million of gold +The cause were known to them it most concerns; +Nor would your noble mother for much more +Be so dishonour'd in the court of Rome. +For shame, put up. + +DEMETRIUS +Not I, till I have sheathed +My rapier in his bosom and withal +Thrust these reproachful speeches down his throat +That he hath breathed in my dishonour here. + +CHIRON +For that I am prepared and full resolved. +Foul-spoken coward, that thunder'st with thy tongue, +And with thy weapon nothing darest perform! + +AARON +Away, I say! +Now, by the gods that warlike Goths adore, +This petty brabble will undo us all. +Why, lords, and think you not how dangerous +It is to jet upon a prince's right? +What, is Lavinia then become so loose, +Or Bassianus so degenerate, +That for her love such quarrels may be broach'd +Without controlment, justice, or revenge? +Young lords, beware! and should the empress know +This discord's ground, the music would not please. + +CHIRON +I care not, I, knew she and all the world: +I love Lavinia more than all the world. + +DEMETRIUS +Youngling, learn thou to make some meaner choice: +Lavinia is thine elder brother's hope. + +AARON +Why, are ye mad? or know ye not, in Rome +How furious and impatient they be, +And cannot brook competitors in love? +I tell you, lords, you do but plot your deaths +By this device. + +CHIRON +Aaron, a thousand deaths +Would I propose to achieve her whom I love. + +AARON +To achieve her! how? + +DEMETRIUS +Why makest thou it so strange? +She is a woman, therefore may be woo'd; +She is a woman, therefore may be won; +She is Lavinia, therefore must be loved. +What, man! more water glideth by the mill +Than wots the miller of; and easy it is +Of a cut loaf to steal a shive, we know: +Though Bassianus be the emperor's brother. +Better than he have worn Vulcan's badge. + +AARON +[Aside] Ay, and as good as Saturninus may. + +DEMETRIUS +Then why should he despair that knows to court it +With words, fair looks and liberality? +What, hast not thou full often struck a doe, +And borne her cleanly by the keeper's nose? + +AARON +Why, then, it seems, some certain snatch or so +Would serve your turns. + +CHIRON +Ay, so the turn were served. + +DEMETRIUS +Aaron, thou hast hit it. + +AARON +Would you had hit it too! +Then should not we be tired with this ado. +Why, hark ye, hark ye! and are you such fools +To square for this? would it offend you, then +That both should speed? + +CHIRON +Faith, not me. + +DEMETRIUS +Nor me, so I were one. + +AARON +For shame, be friends, and join for that you jar: +'Tis policy and stratagem must do +That you affect; and so must you resolve, +That what you cannot as you would achieve, +You must perforce accomplish as you may. +Take this of me: Lucrece was not more chaste +Than this Lavinia, Bassianus' love. +A speedier course than lingering languishment +Must we pursue, and I have found the path. +My lords, a solemn hunting is in hand; +There will the lovely Roman ladies troop: +The forest walks are wide and spacious; +And many unfrequented plots there are +Fitted by kind for rape and villany: +Single you thither then this dainty doe, +And strike her home by force, if not by words: +This way, or not at all, stand you in hope. +Come, come, our empress, with her sacred wit +To villany and vengeance consecrate, +Will we acquaint with all that we intend; +And she shall file our engines with advice, +That will not suffer you to square yourselves, +But to your wishes' height advance you both. +The emperor's court is like the house of Fame, +The palace full of tongues, of eyes, and ears: +The woods are ruthless, dreadful, deaf, and dull; +There speak, and strike, brave boys, and take +your turns; +There serve your lusts, shadow'd from heaven's eye, +And revel in Lavinia's treasury. + +CHIRON +Thy counsel, lad, smells of no cowardice, + +DEMETRIUS +Sit fas aut nefas, till I find the stream +To cool this heat, a charm to calm these fits. +Per Styga, per manes vehor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A forest near Rome. Horns and cry of hounds heard. + +Enter TITUS ANDRONICUS, with Hunters, & c., MARCUS, LUCIUS, QUINTUS, and MARTIUS +TITUS ANDRONICUS +The hunt is up, the morn is bright and grey, +The fields are fragrant and the woods are green: +Uncouple here and let us make a bay +And wake the emperor and his lovely bride +And rouse the prince and ring a hunter's peal, +That all the court may echo with the noise. +Sons, let it be your charge, as it is ours, +To attend the emperor's person carefully: +I have been troubled in my sleep this night, +But dawning day new comfort hath inspired. + +A cry of hounds and horns, winded in a peal. Enter SATURNINUS, TAMORA, BASSIANUS, LAVINIA, DEMETRIUS, CHIRON, and Attendants + +Many good morrows to your majesty; +Madam, to you as many and as good: +I promised your grace a hunter's peal. + +SATURNINUS +And you have rung it lustily, my lord; +Somewhat too early for new-married ladies. + +BASSIANUS +Lavinia, how say you? + +LAVINIA +I say, no; +I have been broad awake two hours and more. + +SATURNINUS +Come on, then; horse and chariots let us have, +And to our sport. + +To TAMORA + +Madam, now shall ye see +Our Roman hunting. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +I have dogs, my lord, +Will rouse the proudest panther in the chase, +And climb the highest promontory top. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +And I have horse will follow where the game +Makes way, and run like swallows o'er the plain. + +DEMETRIUS +Chiron, we hunt not, we, with horse nor hound, +But hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A lonely part of the forest. + +Enter AARON, with a bag of gold +AARON +He that had wit would think that I had none, +To bury so much gold under a tree, +And never after to inherit it. +Let him that thinks of me so abjectly +Know that this gold must coin a stratagem, +Which, cunningly effected, will beget +A very excellent piece of villany: +And so repose, sweet gold, for their unrest + +Hides the gold + +That have their alms out of the empress' chest. + +Enter TAMORA + +TAMORA +My lovely Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, +When every thing doth make a gleeful boast? +The birds chant melody on every bush, +The snake lies rolled in the cheerful sun, +The green leaves quiver with the cooling wind +And make a chequer'd shadow on the ground: +Under their sweet shade, Aaron, let us sit, +And, whilst the babbling echo mocks the hounds, +Replying shrilly to the well-tuned horns, +As if a double hunt were heard at once, +Let us sit down and mark their yelping noise; +And, after conflict such as was supposed +The wandering prince and Dido once enjoy'd, +When with a happy storm they were surprised +And curtain'd with a counsel-keeping cave, +We may, each wreathed in the other's arms, +Our pastimes done, possess a golden slumber; +Whiles hounds and horns and sweet melodious birds +Be unto us as is a nurse's song +Of lullaby to bring her babe asleep. + +AARON +Madam, though Venus govern your desires, +Saturn is dominator over mine: +What signifies my deadly-standing eye, +My silence and my cloudy melancholy, +My fleece of woolly hair that now uncurls +Even as an adder when she doth unroll +To do some fatal execution? +No, madam, these are no venereal signs: +Vengeance is in my heart, death in my hand, +Blood and revenge are hammering in my head. +Hark Tamora, the empress of my soul, +Which never hopes more heaven than rests in thee, +This is the day of doom for Bassianus: +His Philomel must lose her tongue to-day, +Thy sons make pillage of her chastity +And wash their hands in Bassianus' blood. +Seest thou this letter? take it up, I pray thee, +And give the king this fatal plotted scroll. +Now question me no more; we are espied; +Here comes a parcel of our hopeful booty, +Which dreads not yet their lives' destruction. + +TAMORA +Ah, my sweet Moor, sweeter to me than life! + +AARON +No more, great empress; Bassianus comes: +Be cross with him; and I'll go fetch thy sons +To back thy quarrels, whatsoe'er they be. + +Exit + +Enter BASSIANUS and LAVINIA + +BASSIANUS +Who have we here? Rome's royal empress, +Unfurnish'd of her well-beseeming troop? +Or is it Dian, habited like her, +Who hath abandoned her holy groves +To see the general hunting in this forest? + +TAMORA +Saucy controller of our private steps! +Had I the power that some say Dian had, +Thy temples should be planted presently +With horns, as was Actaeon's; and the hounds +Should drive upon thy new-transformed limbs, +Unmannerly intruder as thou art! + +LAVINIA +Under your patience, gentle empress, +'Tis thought you have a goodly gift in horning; +And to be doubted that your Moor and you +Are singled forth to try experiments: +Jove shield your husband from his hounds to-day! +'Tis pity they should take him for a stag. + +BASSIANUS +Believe me, queen, your swarth Cimmerian +Doth make your honour of his body's hue, +Spotted, detested, and abominable. +Why are you sequester'd from all your train, +Dismounted from your snow-white goodly steed. +And wander'd hither to an obscure plot, +Accompanied but with a barbarous Moor, +If foul desire had not conducted you? + +LAVINIA +And, being intercepted in your sport, +Great reason that my noble lord be rated +For sauciness. I pray you, let us hence, +And let her joy her raven-colour'd love; +This valley fits the purpose passing well. + +BASSIANUS +The king my brother shall have note of this. + +LAVINIA +Ay, for these slips have made him noted long: +Good king, to be so mightily abused! + +TAMORA +Why have I patience to endure all this? + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +DEMETRIUS +How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother! +Why doth your highness look so pale and wan? + +TAMORA +Have I not reason, think you, to look pale? +These two have 'ticed me hither to this place: +A barren detested vale, you see it is; +The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, +O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe: +Here never shines the sun; here nothing breeds, +Unless the nightly owl or fatal raven: +And when they show'd me this abhorred pit, +They told me, here, at dead time of the night, +A thousand fiends, a thousand hissing snakes, +Ten thousand swelling toads, as many urchins, +Would make such fearful and confused cries +As any mortal body hearing it +Should straight fall mad, or else die suddenly. +No sooner had they told this hellish tale, +But straight they told me they would bind me here +Unto the body of a dismal yew, +And leave me to this miserable death: +And then they call'd me foul adulteress, +Lascivious Goth, and all the bitterest terms +That ever ear did hear to such effect: +And, had you not by wondrous fortune come, +This vengeance on me had they executed. +Revenge it, as you love your mother's life, +Or be ye not henceforth call'd my children. + +DEMETRIUS +This is a witness that I am thy son. + +Stabs BASSIANUS + +CHIRON +And this for me, struck home to show my strength. + +Also stabs BASSIANUS, who dies + +LAVINIA +Ay, come, Semiramis, nay, barbarous Tamora, +For no name fits thy nature but thy own! + +TAMORA +Give me thy poniard; you shall know, my boys +Your mother's hand shall right your mother's wrong. + +DEMETRIUS +Stay, madam; here is more belongs to her; +First thrash the corn, then after burn the straw: +This minion stood upon her chastity, +Upon her nuptial vow, her loyalty, +And with that painted hope braves your mightiness: +And shall she carry this unto her grave? + +CHIRON +An if she do, I would I were an eunuch. +Drag hence her husband to some secret hole, +And make his dead trunk pillow to our lust. + +TAMORA +But when ye have the honey ye desire, +Let not this wasp outlive, us both to sting. + +CHIRON +I warrant you, madam, we wil l make that sure. +Come, mistress, now perforce we will enjoy +That nice-preserved honesty of yours. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora! thou bear'st a woman's face,-- + +TAMORA +I will not hear her speak; away with her! + +LAVINIA +Sweet lords, entreat her hear me but a word. + +DEMETRIUS +Listen, fair madam: let it be your glory +To see her tears; but be your heart to them +As unrelenting flint to drops of rain. + +LAVINIA +When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam? +O, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee; +The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble; +Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny. +Yet every mother breeds not sons alike: + +To CHIRON + +Do thou entreat her show a woman pity. + +CHIRON +What, wouldst thou have me prove myself a bastard? + +LAVINIA +'Tis true; the raven doth not hatch a lark: +Yet have I heard,--O, could I find it now!-- +The lion moved with pity did endure +To have his princely paws pared all away: +Some say that ravens foster forlorn children, +The whilst their own birds famish in their nests: +O, be to me, though thy hard heart say no, +Nothing so kind, but something pitiful! + +TAMORA +I know not what it means; away with her! + +LAVINIA +O, let me teach thee! for my father's sake, +That gave thee life, when well he might have +slain thee, +Be not obdurate, open thy deaf ears. + +TAMORA +Hadst thou in person ne'er offended me, +Even for his sake am I pitiless. +Remember, boys, I pour'd forth tears in vain, +To save your brother from the sacrifice; +But fierce Andronicus would not relent; +Therefore, away with her, and use her as you will, +The worse to her, the better loved of me. + +LAVINIA +O Tamora, be call'd a gentle queen, +And with thine own hands kill me in this place! +For 'tis not life that I have begg'd so long; +Poor I was slain when Bassianus died. + +TAMORA +What begg'st thou, then? fond woman, let me go. + +LAVINIA +'Tis present death I beg; and one thing more +That womanhood denies my tongue to tell: +O, keep me from their worse than killing lust, +And tumble me into some loathsome pit, +Where never man's eye may behold my body: +Do this, and be a charitable murderer. + +TAMORA +So should I rob my sweet sons of their fee: +No, let them satisfy their lust on thee. + +DEMETRIUS +Away! for thou hast stay'd us here too long. + +LAVINIA +No grace? no womanhood? Ah, beastly creature! +The blot and enemy to our general name! +Confusion fall-- + +CHIRON +Nay, then I'll stop your mouth. Bring thou her husband: +This is the hole where Aaron bid us hide him. + +DEMETRIUS throws the body of BASSIANUS into the pit; then exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON, dragging off LAVINIA + +TAMORA +Farewell, my sons: see that you make her sure. +Ne'er let my heart know merry cheer indeed, +Till all the Andronici be made away. +Now will I hence to seek my lovely Moor, +And let my spleenful sons this trull deflow'r. + +Exit + +Re-enter AARON, with QUINTUS and MARTIUS + +AARON +Come on, my lords, the better foot before: +Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit +Where I espied the panther fast asleep. + +QUINTUS +My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes. + +MARTIUS +And mine, I promise you; were't not for shame, +Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile. + +Falls into the pit + +QUINTUS +What art thou fall'n? What subtle hole is this, +Whose mouth is cover'd with rude-growing briers, +Upon whose leaves are drops of new-shed blood +As fresh as morning dew distill'd on flowers? +A very fatal place it seems to me. +Speak, brother, hast thou hurt thee with the fall? + +MARTIUS +O brother, with the dismall'st object hurt +That ever eye with sight made heart lament! + +AARON +[Aside] Now will I fetch the king to find them here, +That he thereby may give a likely guess +How these were they that made away his brother. + +Exit + +MARTIUS +Why dost not comfort me, and help me out +From this unhallowed and blood-stained hole? + +QUINTUS +I am surprised with an uncouth fear; +A chilling sweat o'er-runs my trembling joints: +My heart suspects more than mine eye can see. + +MARTIUS +To prove thou hast a true-divining heart, +Aaron and thou look down into this den, +And see a fearful sight of blood and death. + +QUINTUS +Aaron is gone; and my compassionate heart +Will not permit mine eyes once to behold +The thing whereat it trembles by surmise; +O, tell me how it is; for ne'er till now +Was I a child to fear I know not what. + +MARTIUS +Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here, +All on a heap, like to a slaughter'd lamb, +In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. + +QUINTUS +If it be dark, how dost thou know 'tis he? + +MARTIUS +Upon his bloody finger he doth wear +A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, +Which, like a taper in some monument, +Doth shine upon the dead man's earthy cheeks, +And shows the ragged entrails of the pit: +So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus +When he by night lay bathed in maiden blood. +O brother, help me with thy fainting hand-- +If fear hath made thee faint, as me it hath-- +Out of this fell devouring receptacle, +As hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth. + +QUINTUS +Reach me thy hand, that I may help thee out; +Or, wanting strength to do thee so much good, +I may be pluck'd into the swallowing womb +Of this deep pit, poor Bassianus' grave. +I have no strength to pluck thee to the brink. + +MARTIUS +Nor I no strength to climb without thy help. + +QUINTUS +Thy hand once more; I will not loose again, +Till thou art here aloft, or I below: +Thou canst not come to me: I come to thee. + +Falls in + +Enter SATURNINUS with AARON + +SATURNINUS +Along with me: I'll see what hole is here, +And what he is that now is leap'd into it. +Say who art thou that lately didst descend +Into this gaping hollow of the earth? + +MARTIUS +The unhappy son of old Andronicus: +Brought hither in a most unlucky hour, +To find thy brother Bassianus dead. + +SATURNINUS +My brother dead! I know thou dost but jest: +He and his lady both are at the lodge +Upon the north side of this pleasant chase; +'Tis not an hour since I left him there. + +MARTIUS +We know not where you left him all alive; +But, out, alas! here have we found him dead. + +Re-enter TAMORA, with Attendants; TITUS ANDRONICUS, and Lucius + +TAMORA +Where is my lord the king? + +SATURNINUS +Here, Tamora, though grieved with killing grief. + +TAMORA +Where is thy brother Bassianus? + +SATURNINUS +Now to the bottom dost thou search my wound: +Poor Bassianus here lies murdered. + +TAMORA +Then all too late I bring this fatal writ, +The complot of this timeless tragedy; +And wonder greatly that man's face can fold +In pleasing smiles such murderous tyranny. + +She giveth SATURNINUS a letter + +SATURNINUS +[Reads] 'An if we miss to meet him handsomely-- +Sweet huntsman, Bassianus 'tis we mean-- +Do thou so much as dig the grave for him: +Thou know'st our meaning. Look for thy reward +Among the nettles at the elder-tree +Which overshades the mouth of that same pit +Where we decreed to bury Bassianus. +Do this, and purchase us thy lasting friends.' +O Tamora! was ever heard the like? +This is the pit, and this the elder-tree. +Look, sirs, if you can find the huntsman out +That should have murdered Bassianus here. + +AARON +My gracious lord, here is the bag of gold. + +SATURNINUS +[To TITUS] Two of thy whelps, fell curs of +bloody kind, +Have here bereft my brother of his life. +Sirs, drag them from the pit unto the prison: +There let them bide until we have devised +Some never-heard-of torturing pain for them. + +TAMORA +What, are they in this pit? O wondrous thing! +How easily murder is discovered! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +High emperor, upon my feeble knee +I beg this boon, with tears not lightly shed, +That this fell fault of my accursed sons, +Accursed if the fault be proved in them,-- + +SATURNINUS +If it be proved! you see it is apparent. +Who found this letter? Tamora, was it you? + +TAMORA +Andronicus himself did take it up. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +I did, my lord: yet let me be their bail; +For, by my father's reverend tomb, I vow +They shall be ready at your highness' will +To answer their suspicion with their lives. + +SATURNINUS +Thou shalt not bail them: see thou follow me. +Some bring the murder'd body, some the murderers: +Let them not speak a word; the guilt is plain; +For, by my soul, were there worse end than death, +That end upon them should be executed. + +TAMORA +Andronicus, I will entreat the king; +Fear not thy sons; they shall do well enough. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come, Lucius, come; stay not to talk with them. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the forest. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and CHIRON with LAVINIA, ravished; her hands cut off, and her tongue cut out +DEMETRIUS +So, now go tell, an if thy tongue can speak, +Who 'twas that cut thy tongue and ravish'd thee. + +CHIRON +Write down thy mind, bewray thy meaning so, +An if thy stumps will let thee play the scribe. + +DEMETRIUS +See, how with signs and tokens she can scrowl. + +CHIRON +Go home, call for sweet water, wash thy hands. + +DEMETRIUS +She hath no tongue to call, nor hands to wash; +And so let's leave her to her silent walks. + +CHIRON +An 'twere my case, I should go hang myself. + +DEMETRIUS +If thou hadst hands to help thee knit the cord. + +Exeunt DEMETRIUS and CHIRON + +Enter MARCUS + +MARCUS +Who is this? my niece, that flies away so fast! +Cousin, a word; where is your husband? +If I do dream, would all my wealth would wake me! +If I do wake, some planet strike me down, +That I may slumber in eternal sleep! +Speak, gentle niece, what stern ungentle hands +Have lopp'd and hew'd and made thy body bare +Of her two branches, those sweet ornaments, +Whose circling shadows kings have sought to sleep in, +And might not gain so great a happiness +As have thy love? Why dost not speak to me? +Alas, a crimson river of warm blood, +Like to a bubbling fountain stirr'd with wind, +Doth rise and fall between thy rosed lips, +Coming and going with thy honey breath. +But, sure, some Tereus hath deflowered thee, +And, lest thou shouldst detect him, cut thy tongue. +Ah, now thou turn'st away thy face for shame! +And, notwithstanding all this loss of blood, +As from a conduit with three issuing spouts, +Yet do thy cheeks look red as Titan's face +Blushing to be encountered with a cloud. +Shall I speak for thee? shall I say 'tis so? +O, that I knew thy heart; and knew the beast, +That I might rail at him, to ease my mind! +Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopp'd, +Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is. +Fair Philomela, she but lost her tongue, +And in a tedious sampler sew'd her mind: +But, lovely niece, that mean is cut from thee; +A craftier Tereus, cousin, hast thou met, +And he hath cut those pretty fingers off, +That could have better sew'd than Philomel. +O, had the monster seen those lily hands +Tremble, like aspen-leaves, upon a lute, +And make the silken strings delight to kiss them, +He would not then have touch'd them for his life! +Or, had he heard the heavenly harmony +Which that sweet tongue hath made, +He would have dropp'd his knife, and fell asleep +As Cerberus at the Thracian poet's feet. +Come, let us go, and make thy father blind; +For such a sight will blind a father's eye: +One hour's storm will drown the fragrant meads; +What will whole months of tears thy father's eyes? +Do not draw back, for we will mourn with thee +O, could our mourning ease thy misery! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter Judges, Senators and Tribunes, with MARTIUS and QUINTUS, bound, passing on to the place of execution; TITUS going before, pleading +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Hear me, grave fathers! noble tribunes, stay! +For pity of mine age, whose youth was spent +In dangerous wars, whilst you securely slept; +For all my blood in Rome's great quarrel shed; +For all the frosty nights that I have watch'd; +And for these bitter tears, which now you see +Filling the aged wrinkles in my cheeks; +Be pitiful to my condemned sons, +Whose souls are not corrupted as 'tis thought. +For two and twenty sons I never wept, +Because they died in honour's lofty bed. + +Lieth down; the Judges, & c., pass by him, and Exeunt + +For these, these, tribunes, in the dust I write +My heart's deep languor and my soul's sad tears: +Let my tears stanch the earth's dry appetite; +My sons' sweet blood will make it shame and blush. +O earth, I will befriend thee more with rain, +That shall distil from these two ancient urns, +Than youthful April shall with all his showers: +In summer's drought I'll drop upon thee still; +In winter with warm tears I'll melt the snow +And keep eternal spring-time on thy face, +So thou refuse to drink my dear sons' blood. + +Enter LUCIUS, with his sword drawn + +O reverend tribunes! O gentle, aged men! +Unbind my sons, reverse the doom of death; +And let me say, that never wept before, +My tears are now prevailing orators. + +LUCIUS +O noble father, you lament in vain: +The tribunes hear you not; no man is by; +And you recount your sorrows to a stone. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Lucius, for thy brothers let me plead. +Grave tribunes, once more I entreat of you,-- + +LUCIUS +My gracious lord, no tribune hears you speak. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, tis no matter, man; if they did hear, +They would not mark me, or if they did mark, +They would not pity me, yet plead I must; +Therefore I tell my sorrows to the stones; +Who, though they cannot answer my distress, +Yet in some sort they are better than the tribunes, +For that they will not intercept my tale: +When I do weep, they humbly at my feet +Receive my tears and seem to weep with me; +And, were they but attired in grave weeds, +Rome could afford no tribune like to these. +A stone is soft as wax,--tribunes more hard than stones; +A stone is silent, and offendeth not, +And tribunes with their tongues doom men to death. + +Rises + +But wherefore stand'st thou with thy weapon drawn? + +LUCIUS +To rescue my two brothers from their death: +For which attempt the judges have pronounced +My everlasting doom of banishment. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O happy man! they have befriended thee. +Why, foolish Lucius, dost thou not perceive +That Rome is but a wilderness of tigers? +Tigers must prey, and Rome affords no prey +But me and mine: how happy art thou, then, +From these devourers to be banished! +But who comes with our brother Marcus here? + +Enter MARCUS and LAVINIA + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Titus, prepare thy aged eyes to weep; +Or, if not so, thy noble heart to break: +I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Will it consume me? let me see it, then. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +This was thy daughter. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, Marcus, so she is. + +LUCIUS +Ay me, this object kills me! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Faint-hearted boy, arise, and look upon her. +Speak, Lavinia, what accursed hand +Hath made thee handless in thy father's sight? +What fool hath added water to the sea, +Or brought a faggot to bright-burning Troy? +My grief was at the height before thou camest, +And now like Nilus, it disdaineth bounds. +Give me a sword, I'll chop off my hands too; +For they have fought for Rome, and all in vain; +And they have nursed this woe, in feeding life; +In bootless prayer have they been held up, +And they have served me to effectless use: +Now all the service I require of them +Is that the one will help to cut the other. +'Tis well, Lavinia, that thou hast no hands; +For hands, to do Rome service, are but vain. + +LUCIUS +Speak, gentle sister, who hath martyr'd thee? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, that delightful engine of her thoughts +That blabb'd them with such pleasing eloquence, +Is torn from forth that pretty hollow cage, +Where, like a sweet melodious bird, it sung +Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear! + +LUCIUS +O, say thou for her, who hath done this deed? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O, thus I found her, straying in the park, +Seeking to hide herself, as doth the deer +That hath received some unrecuring wound. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +It was my deer; and he that wounded her +Hath hurt me more than had he killed me dead: +For now I stand as one upon a rock +Environed with a wilderness of sea, +Who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, +Expecting ever when some envious surge +Will in his brinish bowels swallow him. +This way to death my wretched sons are gone; +Here stands my other son, a banished man, +And here my brother, weeping at my woes. +But that which gives my soul the greatest spurn, +Is dear Lavinia, dearer than my soul. +Had I but seen thy picture in this plight, +It would have madded me: what shall I do +Now I behold thy lively body so? +Thou hast no hands, to wipe away thy tears: +Nor tongue, to tell me who hath martyr'd thee: +Thy husband he is dead: and for his death +Thy brothers are condemn'd, and dead by this. +Look, Marcus! ah, son Lucius, look on her! +When I did name her brothers, then fresh tears +Stood on her cheeks, as doth the honey-dew +Upon a gather'd lily almost wither'd. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Perchance she weeps because they kill'd her husband; +Perchance because she knows them innocent. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If they did kill thy husband, then be joyful +Because the law hath ta'en revenge on them. +No, no, they would not do so foul a deed; +Witness the sorrow that their sister makes. +Gentle Lavinia, let me kiss thy lips. +Or make some sign how I may do thee ease: +Shall thy good uncle, and thy brother Lucius, +And thou, and I, sit round about some fountain, +Looking all downwards to behold our cheeks +How they are stain'd, as meadows, yet not dry, +With miry slime left on them by a flood? +And in the fountain shall we gaze so long +Till the fresh taste be taken from that clearness, +And made a brine-pit with our bitter tears? +Or shall we cut away our hands, like thine? +Or shall we bite our tongues, and in dumb shows +Pass the remainder of our hateful days? +What shall we do? let us, that have our tongues, +Plot some deuce of further misery, +To make us wonder'd at in time to come. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, cease your tears; for, at your grief, +See how my wretched sister sobs and weeps. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Patience, dear niece. Good Titus, dry thine eyes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ah, Marcus, Marcus! brother, well I wot +Thy napkin cannot drink a tear of mine, +For thou, poor man, hast drown'd it with thine own. + +LUCIUS +Ah, my Lavinia, I will wipe thy cheeks. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Mark, Marcus, mark! I understand her signs: +Had she a tongue to speak, now would she say +That to her brother which I said to thee: +His napkin, with his true tears all bewet, +Can do no service on her sorrowful cheeks. +O, what a sympathy of woe is this, +As far from help as Limbo is from bliss! + +Enter AARON + +AARON +Titus Andronicus, my lord the emperor +Sends thee this word,--that, if thou love thy sons, +Let Marcus, Lucius, or thyself, old Titus, +Or any one of you, chop off your hand, +And send it to the king: he for the same +Will send thee hither both thy sons alive; +And that shall be the ransom for their fault. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O gracious emperor! O gentle Aaron! +Did ever raven sing so like a lark, +That gives sweet tidings of the sun's uprise? +With all my heart, I'll send the emperor My hand: +Good Aaron, wilt thou help to chop it off? + +LUCIUS +Stay, father! for that noble hand of thine, +That hath thrown down so many enemies, +Shall not be sent: my hand will serve the turn: +My youth can better spare my blood than you; +And therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Which of your hands hath not defended Rome, +And rear'd aloft the bloody battle-axe, +Writing destruction on the enemy's castle? +O, none of both but are of high desert: +My hand hath been but idle; let it serve +To ransom my two nephews from their death; +Then have I kept it to a worthy end. + +AARON +Nay, come, agree whose hand shall go along, +For fear they die before their pardon come. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +My hand shall go. + +LUCIUS +By heaven, it shall not go! + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Sirs, strive no more: such wither'd herbs as these +Are meet for plucking up, and therefore mine. + +LUCIUS +Sweet father, if I shall be thought thy son, +Let me redeem my brothers both from death. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +And, for our father's sake and mother's care, +Now let me show a brother's love to thee. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Agree between you; I will spare my hand. + +LUCIUS +Then I'll go fetch an axe. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But I will use the axe. + +Exeunt LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Come hither, Aaron; I'll deceive them both: +Lend me thy hand, and I will give thee mine. + +AARON +[Aside] If that be call'd deceit, I will be honest, +And never, whilst I live, deceive men so: +But I'll deceive you in another sort, +And that you'll say, ere half an hour pass. + +Cuts off TITUS's hand + +Re-enter LUCIUS and MARCUS + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Now stay your strife: what shall be is dispatch'd. +Good Aaron, give his majesty my hand: +Tell him it was a hand that warded him +From thousand dangers; bid him bury it +More hath it merited; that let it have. +As for my sons, say I account of them +As jewels purchased at an easy price; +And yet dear too, because I bought mine own. + +AARON +I go, Andronicus: and for thy hand +Look by and by to have thy sons with thee. + +Aside + +Their heads, I mean. O, how this villany +Doth fat me with the very thoughts of it! +Let fools do good, and fair men call for grace. +Aaron will have his soul black like his face. + +Exit + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +O, here I lift this one hand up to heaven, +And bow this feeble ruin to the earth: +If any power pities wretched tears, +To that I call! + +To LAVINIA + +What, wilt thou kneel with me? +Do, then, dear heart; for heaven shall hear our prayers; +Or with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin dim, +And stain the sun with fog, as sometime clouds +When they do hug him in their melting bosoms. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +O brother, speak with possibilities, +And do not break into these deep extremes. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Is not my sorrow deep, having no bottom? +Then be my passions bottomless with them. + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +But yet let reason govern thy lament. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +If there were reason for these miseries, +Then into limits could I bind my woes: +When heaven doth weep, doth not the earth o'erflow? +If the winds rage, doth not the sea wax mad, +Threatening the welkin with his big-swoln face? +And wilt thou have a reason for this coil? +I am the sea; hark, how her sighs do blow! +She is the weeping welkin, I the earth: +Then must my sea be moved with her sighs; +Then must my earth with her continual tears +Become a deluge, overflow'd and drown'd; +For why my bowels cannot hide her woes, +But like a drunkard must I vomit them. +Then give me leave, for losers will have leave +To ease their stomachs with their bitter tongues. + +Enter a Messenger, with two heads and a hand + +Messenger +Worthy Andronicus, ill art thou repaid +For that good hand thou sent'st the emperor. +Here are the heads of thy two noble sons; +And here's thy hand, in scorn to thee sent back; +Thy griefs their sports, thy resolution mock'd; +That woe is me to think upon thy woes +More than remembrance of my father's death. + +Exit + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now let hot AEtna cool in Sicily, +And be my heart an ever-burning hell! +These miseries are more than may be borne. +To weep with them that weep doth ease some deal; +But sorrow flouted at is double death. + +LUCIUS +Ah, that this sight should make so deep a wound, +And yet detested life not shrink thereat! +That ever death should let life bear his name, +Where life hath no more interest but to breathe! + +LAVINIA kisses TITUS + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Alas, poor heart, that kiss is comfortless +As frozen water to a starved snake. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +When will this fearful slumber have an end? + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Now, farewell, flattery: die, Andronicus; +Thou dost not slumber: see, thy two sons' heads, +Thy warlike hand, thy mangled daughter here: +Thy other banish'd son, with this dear sight +Struck pale and bloodless; and thy brother, I, +Even like a stony image, cold and numb. +Ah, now no more will I control thy griefs: +Rend off thy silver hair, thy other hand +Gnawing with thy teeth; and be this dismal sight +The closing up of our most wretched eyes; +Now is a time to storm; why art thou still? + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Ha, ha, ha! + +MARCUS ANDRONICUS +Why dost thou laugh? it fits not with this hour. + +TITUS ANDRONICUS +Why, I have not another tear to shed: +Besides, this sorrow is an enemy, +And would usurp upon my watery eyes +And make them blind with tributary tears: +Then which way shall I find Revenge's cave? +For these two heads do seem to speak to me, +And threat me I shall never come to bliss +Till all these mischiefs be return'd again +Even in their throats that have committed them. +Come, let me see what task I have to do. +You heavy people, circle me about, +That I may turn me to each one of you, +And swear unto my soul to right your wrongs. +The vow is made. Come, brother, take a head; +And in this hand the other I will bear. +Lavinia, thou shalt be employ'd: these arms! +Bear thou my hand, sweet wench, between thy teeth. +As for thee, boy, go get thee from my sight; +Thou art an exile, and thou must not stay: +Hie to the Goths, and raise an army there: +And, if you love me, as I think you do, +Let's kiss and part, for we have much to do. + +Exeunt TITUS, MARCUS, and LAVINIA + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not + +Romeo and Juliet +Shakespeare homepage | Romeo and Juliet | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +Two households, both alike in dignity, +In fair Verona, where we lay our scene, +From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, +Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. +From forth the fatal loins of these two foes +A pair of star-cross'd lovers take their life; +Whole misadventured piteous overthrows +Do with their death bury their parents' strife. +The fearful passage of their death-mark'd love, +And the continuance of their parents' rage, +Which, but their children's end, nought could remove, +Is now the two hours' traffic of our stage; +The which if you with patient ears attend, +What here shall miss, our toil shall strive to mend. + +SCENE I. Verona. A public place. + +Enter SAMPSON and GREGORY, of the house of Capulet, armed with swords and bucklers +SAMPSON +Gregory, o' my word, we'll not carry coals. + +GREGORY +No, for then we should be colliers. + +SAMPSON +I mean, an we be in choler, we'll draw. + +GREGORY +Ay, while you live, draw your neck out o' the collar. + +SAMPSON +I strike quickly, being moved. + +GREGORY +But thou art not quickly moved to strike. + +SAMPSON +A dog of the house of Montague moves me. + +GREGORY +To move is to stir; and to be valiant is to stand: +therefore, if thou art moved, thou runn'st away. + +SAMPSON +A dog of that house shall move me to stand: I will +take the wall of any man or maid of Montague's. + +GREGORY +That shows thee a weak slave; for the weakest goes +to the wall. + +SAMPSON +True; and therefore women, being the weaker vessels, +are ever thrust to the wall: therefore I will push +Montague's men from the wall, and thrust his maids +to the wall. + +GREGORY +The quarrel is between our masters and us their men. + +SAMPSON +'Tis all one, I will show myself a tyrant: when I +have fought with the men, I will be cruel with the +maids, and cut off their heads. + +GREGORY +The heads of the maids? + +SAMPSON +Ay, the heads of the maids, or their maidenheads; +take it in what sense thou wilt. + +GREGORY +They must take it in sense that feel it. + +SAMPSON +Me they shall feel while I am able to stand: and +'tis known I am a pretty piece of flesh. + +GREGORY +'Tis well thou art not fish; if thou hadst, thou +hadst been poor John. Draw thy tool! here comes +two of the house of the Montagues. + +SAMPSON +My naked weapon is out: quarrel, I will back thee. + +GREGORY +How! turn thy back and run? + +SAMPSON +Fear me not. + +GREGORY +No, marry; I fear thee! + +SAMPSON +Let us take the law of our sides; let them begin. + +GREGORY +I will frown as I pass by, and let them take it as +they list. + +SAMPSON +Nay, as they dare. I will bite my thumb at them; +which is a disgrace to them, if they bear it. + +Enter ABRAHAM and BALTHASAR + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +I do bite my thumb, sir. + +ABRAHAM +Do you bite your thumb at us, sir? + +SAMPSON +[Aside to GREGORY] Is the law of our side, if I say +ay? + +GREGORY +No. + +SAMPSON +No, sir, I do not bite my thumb at you, sir, but I +bite my thumb, sir. + +GREGORY +Do you quarrel, sir? + +ABRAHAM +Quarrel sir! no, sir. + +SAMPSON +If you do, sir, I am for you: I serve as good a man as you. + +ABRAHAM +No better. + +SAMPSON +Well, sir. + +GREGORY +Say 'better:' here comes one of my master's kinsmen. + +SAMPSON +Yes, better, sir. + +ABRAHAM +You lie. + +SAMPSON +Draw, if you be men. Gregory, remember thy swashing blow. + +They fight + +Enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +Part, fools! +Put up your swords; you know not what you do. + +Beats down their swords + +Enter TYBALT + +TYBALT +What, art thou drawn among these heartless hinds? +Turn thee, Benvolio, look upon thy death. + +BENVOLIO +I do but keep the peace: put up thy sword, +Or manage it to part these men with me. + +TYBALT +What, drawn, and talk of peace! I hate the word, +As I hate hell, all Montagues, and thee: +Have at thee, coward! + +They fight + +Enter, several of both houses, who join the fray; then enter Citizens, with clubs + +First Citizen +Clubs, bills, and partisans! strike! beat them down! +Down with the Capulets! down with the Montagues! + +Enter CAPULET in his gown, and LADY CAPULET + +CAPULET +What noise is this? Give me my long sword, ho! + +LADY CAPULET +A crutch, a crutch! why call you for a sword? + +CAPULET +My sword, I say! Old Montague is come, +And flourishes his blade in spite of me. + +Enter MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +MONTAGUE +Thou villain Capulet,--Hold me not, let me go. + +LADY MONTAGUE +Thou shalt not stir a foot to seek a foe. + +Enter PRINCE, with Attendants + +PRINCE +Rebellious subjects, enemies to peace, +Profaners of this neighbour-stained steel,-- +Will they not hear? What, ho! you men, you beasts, +That quench the fire of your pernicious rage +With purple fountains issuing from your veins, +On pain of torture, from those bloody hands +Throw your mistemper'd weapons to the ground, +And hear the sentence of your moved prince. +Three civil brawls, bred of an airy word, +By thee, old Capulet, and Montague, +Have thrice disturb'd the quiet of our streets, +And made Verona's ancient citizens +Cast by their grave beseeming ornaments, +To wield old partisans, in hands as old, +Canker'd with peace, to part your canker'd hate: +If ever you disturb our streets again, +Your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. +For this time, all the rest depart away: +You Capulet; shall go along with me: +And, Montague, come you this afternoon, +To know our further pleasure in this case, +To old Free-town, our common judgment-place. +Once more, on pain of death, all men depart. + +Exeunt all but MONTAGUE, LADY MONTAGUE, and BENVOLIO + +MONTAGUE +Who set this ancient quarrel new abroach? +Speak, nephew, were you by when it began? + +BENVOLIO +Here were the servants of your adversary, +And yours, close fighting ere I did approach: +I drew to part them: in the instant came +The fiery Tybalt, with his sword prepared, +Which, as he breathed defiance to my ears, +He swung about his head and cut the winds, +Who nothing hurt withal hiss'd him in scorn: +While we were interchanging thrusts and blows, +Came more and more and fought on part and part, +Till the prince came, who parted either part. + +LADY MONTAGUE +O, where is Romeo? saw you him to-day? +Right glad I am he was not at this fray. + +BENVOLIO +Madam, an hour before the worshipp'd sun +Peer'd forth the golden window of the east, +A troubled mind drave me to walk abroad; +Where, underneath the grove of sycamore +That westward rooteth from the city's side, +So early walking did I see your son: +Towards him I made, but he was ware of me +And stole into the covert of the wood: +I, measuring his affections by my own, +That most are busied when they're most alone, +Pursued my humour not pursuing his, +And gladly shunn'd who gladly fled from me. + +MONTAGUE +Many a morning hath he there been seen, +With tears augmenting the fresh morning dew. +Adding to clouds more clouds with his deep sighs; +But all so soon as the all-cheering sun +Should in the furthest east begin to draw +The shady curtains from Aurora's bed, +Away from the light steals home my heavy son, +And private in his chamber pens himself, +Shuts up his windows, locks far daylight out +And makes himself an artificial night: +Black and portentous must this humour prove, +Unless good counsel may the cause remove. + +BENVOLIO +My noble uncle, do you know the cause? + +MONTAGUE +I neither know it nor can learn of him. + +BENVOLIO +Have you importuned him by any means? + +MONTAGUE +Both by myself and many other friends: +But he, his own affections' counsellor, +Is to himself--I will not say how true-- +But to himself so secret and so close, +So far from sounding and discovery, +As is the bud bit with an envious worm, +Ere he can spread his sweet leaves to the air, +Or dedicate his beauty to the sun. +Could we but learn from whence his sorrows grow. +We would as willingly give cure as know. + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +See, where he comes: so please you, step aside; +I'll know his grievance, or be much denied. + +MONTAGUE +I would thou wert so happy by thy stay, +To hear true shrift. Come, madam, let's away. + +Exeunt MONTAGUE and LADY MONTAGUE + +BENVOLIO +Good-morrow, cousin. + +ROMEO +Is the day so young? + +BENVOLIO +But new struck nine. + +ROMEO +Ay me! sad hours seem long. +Was that my father that went hence so fast? + +BENVOLIO +It was. What sadness lengthens Romeo's hours? + +ROMEO +Not having that, which, having, makes them short. + +BENVOLIO +In love? + +ROMEO +Out-- + +BENVOLIO +Of love? + +ROMEO +Out of her favour, where I am in love. + +BENVOLIO +Alas, that love, so gentle in his view, +Should be so tyrannous and rough in proof! + +ROMEO +Alas, that love, whose view is muffled still, +Should, without eyes, see pathways to his will! +Where shall we dine? O me! What fray was here? +Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all. +Here's much to do with hate, but more with love. +Why, then, O brawling love! O loving hate! +O any thing, of nothing first create! +O heavy lightness! serious vanity! +Mis-shapen chaos of well-seeming forms! +Feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, +sick health! +Still-waking sleep, that is not what it is! +This love feel I, that feel no love in this. +Dost thou not laugh? + +BENVOLIO +No, coz, I rather weep. + +ROMEO +Good heart, at what? + +BENVOLIO +At thy good heart's oppression. + +ROMEO +Why, such is love's transgression. +Griefs of mine own lie heavy in my breast, +Which thou wilt propagate, to have it prest +With more of thine: this love that thou hast shown +Doth add more grief to too much of mine own. +Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs; +Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes; +Being vex'd a sea nourish'd with lovers' tears: +What is it else? a madness most discreet, +A choking gall and a preserving sweet. +Farewell, my coz. + +BENVOLIO +Soft! I will go along; +An if you leave me so, you do me wrong. + +ROMEO +Tut, I have lost myself; I am not here; +This is not Romeo, he's some other where. + +BENVOLIO +Tell me in sadness, who is that you love. + +ROMEO +What, shall I groan and tell thee? + +BENVOLIO +Groan! why, no. +But sadly tell me who. + +ROMEO +Bid a sick man in sadness make his will: +Ah, word ill urged to one that is so ill! +In sadness, cousin, I do love a woman. + +BENVOLIO +I aim'd so near, when I supposed you loved. + +ROMEO +A right good mark-man! And she's fair I love. + +BENVOLIO +A right fair mark, fair coz, is soonest hit. + +ROMEO +Well, in that hit you miss: she'll not be hit +With Cupid's arrow; she hath Dian's wit; +And, in strong proof of chastity well arm'd, +From love's weak childish bow she lives unharm'd. +She will not stay the siege of loving terms, +Nor bide the encounter of assailing eyes, +Nor ope her lap to saint-seducing gold: +O, she is rich in beauty, only poor, +That when she dies with beauty dies her store. + +BENVOLIO +Then she hath sworn that she will still live chaste? + +ROMEO +She hath, and in that sparing makes huge waste, +For beauty starved with her severity +Cuts beauty off from all posterity. +She is too fair, too wise, wisely too fair, +To merit bliss by making me despair: +She hath forsworn to love, and in that vow +Do I live dead that live to tell it now. + +BENVOLIO +Be ruled by me, forget to think of her. + +ROMEO +O, teach me how I should forget to think. + +BENVOLIO +By giving liberty unto thine eyes; +Examine other beauties. + +ROMEO +'Tis the way +To call hers exquisite, in question more: +These happy masks that kiss fair ladies' brows +Being black put us in mind they hide the fair; +He that is strucken blind cannot forget +The precious treasure of his eyesight lost: +Show me a mistress that is passing fair, +What doth her beauty serve, but as a note +Where I may read who pass'd that passing fair? +Farewell: thou canst not teach me to forget. + +BENVOLIO +I'll pay that doctrine, or else die in debt. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter CAPULET, PARIS, and Servant +CAPULET +But Montague is bound as well as I, +In penalty alike; and 'tis not hard, I think, +For men so old as we to keep the peace. + +PARIS +Of honourable reckoning are you both; +And pity 'tis you lived at odds so long. +But now, my lord, what say you to my suit? + +CAPULET +But saying o'er what I have said before: +My child is yet a stranger in the world; +She hath not seen the change of fourteen years, +Let two more summers wither in their pride, +Ere we may think her ripe to be a bride. + +PARIS +Younger than she are happy mothers made. + +CAPULET +And too soon marr'd are those so early made. +The earth hath swallow'd all my hopes but she, +She is the hopeful lady of my earth: +But woo her, gentle Paris, get her heart, +My will to her consent is but a part; +An she agree, within her scope of choice +Lies my consent and fair according voice. +This night I hold an old accustom'd feast, +Whereto I have invited many a guest, +Such as I love; and you, among the store, +One more, most welcome, makes my number more. +At my poor house look to behold this night +Earth-treading stars that make dark heaven light: +Such comfort as do lusty young men feel +When well-apparell'd April on the heel +Of limping winter treads, even such delight +Among fresh female buds shall you this night +Inherit at my house; hear all, all see, +And like her most whose merit most shall be: +Which on more view, of many mine being one +May stand in number, though in reckoning none, +Come, go with me. + +To Servant, giving a paper + +Go, sirrah, trudge about +Through fair Verona; find those persons out +Whose names are written there, and to them say, +My house and welcome on their pleasure stay. + +Exeunt CAPULET and PARIS + +Servant +Find them out whose names are written here! It is +written, that the shoemaker should meddle with his +yard, and the tailor with his last, the fisher with +his pencil, and the painter with his nets; but I am +sent to find those persons whose names are here +writ, and can never find what names the writing +person hath here writ. I must to the learned.--In good time. + +Enter BENVOLIO and ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Tut, man, one fire burns out another's burning, +One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish; +Turn giddy, and be holp by backward turning; +One desperate grief cures with another's languish: +Take thou some new infection to thy eye, +And the rank poison of the old will die. + +ROMEO +Your plaintain-leaf is excellent for that. + +BENVOLIO +For what, I pray thee? + +ROMEO +For your broken shin. + +BENVOLIO +Why, Romeo, art thou mad? + +ROMEO +Not mad, but bound more than a mad-man is; +Shut up in prison, kept without my food, +Whipp'd and tormented and--God-den, good fellow. + +Servant +God gi' god-den. I pray, sir, can you read? + +ROMEO +Ay, mine own fortune in my misery. + +Servant +Perhaps you have learned it without book: but, I +pray, can you read any thing you see? + +ROMEO +Ay, if I know the letters and the language. + +Servant +Ye say honestly: rest you merry! + +ROMEO +Stay, fellow; I can read. + +Reads + +'Signior Martino and his wife and daughters; +County Anselme and his beauteous sisters; the lady +widow of Vitravio; Signior Placentio and his lovely +nieces; Mercutio and his brother Valentine; mine +uncle Capulet, his wife and daughters; my fair niece +Rosaline; Livia; Signior Valentio and his cousin +Tybalt, Lucio and the lively Helena.' A fair +assembly: whither should they come? + +Servant +Up. + +ROMEO +Whither? + +Servant +To supper; to our house. + +ROMEO +Whose house? + +Servant +My master's. + +ROMEO +Indeed, I should have ask'd you that before. + +Servant +Now I'll tell you without asking: my master is the +great rich Capulet; and if you be not of the house +of Montagues, I pray, come and crush a cup of wine. +Rest you merry! + +Exit + +BENVOLIO +At this same ancient feast of Capulet's +Sups the fair Rosaline whom thou so lovest, +With all the admired beauties of Verona: +Go thither; and, with unattainted eye, +Compare her face with some that I shall show, +And I will make thee think thy swan a crow. + +ROMEO +When the devout religion of mine eye +Maintains such falsehood, then turn tears to fires; +And these, who often drown'd could never die, +Transparent heretics, be burnt for liars! +One fairer than my love! the all-seeing sun +Ne'er saw her match since first the world begun. + +BENVOLIO +Tut, you saw her fair, none else being by, +Herself poised with herself in either eye: +But in that crystal scales let there be weigh'd +Your lady's love against some other maid +That I will show you shining at this feast, +And she shall scant show well that now shows best. + +ROMEO +I'll go along, no such sight to be shown, +But to rejoice in splendor of mine own. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Nurse, where's my daughter? call her forth to me. + +Nurse +Now, by my maidenhead, at twelve year old, +I bade her come. What, lamb! what, ladybird! +God forbid! Where's this girl? What, Juliet! + +Enter JULIET + +JULIET +How now! who calls? + +Nurse +Your mother. + +JULIET +Madam, I am here. +What is your will? + +LADY CAPULET +This is the matter:--Nurse, give leave awhile, +We must talk in secret:--nurse, come back again; +I have remember'd me, thou's hear our counsel. +Thou know'st my daughter's of a pretty age. + +Nurse +Faith, I can tell her age unto an hour. + +LADY CAPULET +She's not fourteen. + +Nurse +I'll lay fourteen of my teeth,-- +And yet, to my teeth be it spoken, I have but four-- +She is not fourteen. How long is it now +To Lammas-tide? + +LADY CAPULET +A fortnight and odd days. + +Nurse +Even or odd, of all days in the year, +Come Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen. +Susan and she--God rest all Christian souls!-- +Were of an age: well, Susan is with God; +She was too good for me: but, as I said, +On Lammas-eve at night shall she be fourteen; +That shall she, marry; I remember it well. +'Tis since the earthquake now eleven years; +And she was wean'd,--I never shall forget it,-- +Of all the days of the year, upon that day: +For I had then laid wormwood to my dug, +Sitting in the sun under the dove-house wall; +My lord and you were then at Mantua:-- +Nay, I do bear a brain:--but, as I said, +When it did taste the wormwood on the nipple +Of my dug and felt it bitter, pretty fool, +To see it tetchy and fall out with the dug! +Shake quoth the dove-house: 'twas no need, I trow, +To bid me trudge: +And since that time it is eleven years; +For then she could stand alone; nay, by the rood, +She could have run and waddled all about; +For even the day before, she broke her brow: +And then my husband--God be with his soul! +A' was a merry man--took up the child: +'Yea,' quoth he, 'dost thou fall upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou hast more wit; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' and, by my holidame, +The pretty wretch left crying and said 'Ay.' +To see, now, how a jest shall come about! +I warrant, an I should live a thousand years, +I never should forget it: 'Wilt thou not, Jule?' quoth he; +And, pretty fool, it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +LADY CAPULET +Enough of this; I pray thee, hold thy peace. + +Nurse +Yes, madam: yet I cannot choose but laugh, +To think it should leave crying and say 'Ay.' +And yet, I warrant, it had upon its brow +A bump as big as a young cockerel's stone; +A parlous knock; and it cried bitterly: +'Yea,' quoth my husband,'fall'st upon thy face? +Thou wilt fall backward when thou comest to age; +Wilt thou not, Jule?' it stinted and said 'Ay.' + +JULIET +And stint thou too, I pray thee, nurse, say I. + +Nurse +Peace, I have done. God mark thee to his grace! +Thou wast the prettiest babe that e'er I nursed: +An I might live to see thee married once, +I have my wish. + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, that 'marry' is the very theme +I came to talk of. Tell me, daughter Juliet, +How stands your disposition to be married? + +JULIET +It is an honour that I dream not of. + +Nurse +An honour! were not I thine only nurse, +I would say thou hadst suck'd wisdom from thy teat. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, think of marriage now; younger than you, +Here in Verona, ladies of esteem, +Are made already mothers: by my count, +I was your mother much upon these years +That you are now a maid. Thus then in brief: +The valiant Paris seeks you for his love. + +Nurse +A man, young lady! lady, such a man +As all the world--why, he's a man of wax. + +LADY CAPULET +Verona's summer hath not such a flower. + +Nurse +Nay, he's a flower; in faith, a very flower. + +LADY CAPULET +What say you? can you love the gentleman? +This night you shall behold him at our feast; +Read o'er the volume of young Paris' face, +And find delight writ there with beauty's pen; +Examine every married lineament, +And see how one another lends content +And what obscured in this fair volume lies +Find written in the margent of his eyes. +This precious book of love, this unbound lover, +To beautify him, only lacks a cover: +The fish lives in the sea, and 'tis much pride +For fair without the fair within to hide: +That book in many's eyes doth share the glory, +That in gold clasps locks in the golden story; +So shall you share all that he doth possess, +By having him, making yourself no less. + +Nurse +No less! nay, bigger; women grow by men. + +LADY CAPULET +Speak briefly, can you like of Paris' love? + +JULIET +I'll look to like, if looking liking move: +But no more deep will I endart mine eye +Than your consent gives strength to make it fly. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +Madam, the guests are come, supper served up, you +called, my young lady asked for, the nurse cursed in +the pantry, and every thing in extremity. I must +hence to wait; I beseech you, follow straight. + +LADY CAPULET +We follow thee. + +Exit Servant + +Juliet, the county stays. + +Nurse +Go, girl, seek happy nights to happy days. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter ROMEO, MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, with five or six Maskers, Torch-bearers, and others +ROMEO +What, shall this speech be spoke for our excuse? +Or shall we on without a apology? + +BENVOLIO +The date is out of such prolixity: +We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, +Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, +Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper; +Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke +After the prompter, for our entrance: +But let them measure us by what they will; +We'll measure them a measure, and be gone. + +ROMEO +Give me a torch: I am not for this ambling; +Being but heavy, I will bear the light. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, gentle Romeo, we must have you dance. + +ROMEO +Not I, believe me: you have dancing shoes +With nimble soles: I have a soul of lead +So stakes me to the ground I cannot move. + +MERCUTIO +You are a lover; borrow Cupid's wings, +And soar with them above a common bound. + +ROMEO +I am too sore enpierced with his shaft +To soar with his light feathers, and so bound, +I cannot bound a pitch above dull woe: +Under love's heavy burden do I sink. + +MERCUTIO +And, to sink in it, should you burden love; +Too great oppression for a tender thing. + +ROMEO +Is love a tender thing? it is too rough, +Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like thorn. + +MERCUTIO +If love be rough with you, be rough with love; +Prick love for pricking, and you beat love down. +Give me a case to put my visage in: +A visor for a visor! what care I +What curious eye doth quote deformities? +Here are the beetle brows shall blush for me. + +BENVOLIO +Come, knock and enter; and no sooner in, +But every man betake him to his legs. + +ROMEO +A torch for me: let wantons light of heart +Tickle the senseless rushes with their heels, +For I am proverb'd with a grandsire phrase; +I'll be a candle-holder, and look on. +The game was ne'er so fair, and I am done. + +MERCUTIO +Tut, dun's the mouse, the constable's own word: +If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire +Of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st +Up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho! + +ROMEO +Nay, that's not so. + +MERCUTIO +I mean, sir, in delay +We waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. +Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits +Five times in that ere once in our five wits. + +ROMEO +And we mean well in going to this mask; +But 'tis no wit to go. + +MERCUTIO +Why, may one ask? + +ROMEO +I dream'd a dream to-night. + +MERCUTIO +And so did I. + +ROMEO +Well, what was yours? + +MERCUTIO +That dreamers often lie. + +ROMEO +In bed asleep, while they do dream things true. + +MERCUTIO +O, then, I see Queen Mab hath been with you. +She is the fairies' midwife, and she comes +In shape no bigger than an agate-stone +On the fore-finger of an alderman, +Drawn with a team of little atomies +Athwart men's noses as they lie asleep; +Her wagon-spokes made of long spiders' legs, +The cover of the wings of grasshoppers, +The traces of the smallest spider's web, +The collars of the moonshine's watery beams, +Her whip of cricket's bone, the lash of film, +Her wagoner a small grey-coated gnat, +Not so big as a round little worm +Prick'd from the lazy finger of a maid; +Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut +Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, +Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. +And in this state she gallops night by night +Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love; +O'er courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight, +O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees, +O'er ladies ' lips, who straight on kisses dream, +Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues, +Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are: +Sometime she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, +And then dreams he of smelling out a suit; +And sometime comes she with a tithe-pig's tail +Tickling a parson's nose as a' lies asleep, +Then dreams, he of another benefice: +Sometime she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, +And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, +Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, +Of healths five-fathom deep; and then anon +Drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, +And being thus frighted swears a prayer or two +And sleeps again. This is that very Mab +That plats the manes of horses in the night, +And bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, +Which once untangled, much misfortune bodes: +This is the hag, when maids lie on their backs, +That presses them and learns them first to bear, +Making them women of good carriage: +This is she-- + +ROMEO +Peace, peace, Mercutio, peace! +Thou talk'st of nothing. + +MERCUTIO +True, I talk of dreams, +Which are the children of an idle brain, +Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, +Which is as thin of substance as the air +And more inconstant than the wind, who wooes +Even now the frozen bosom of the north, +And, being anger'd, puffs away from thence, +Turning his face to the dew-dropping south. + +BENVOLIO +This wind, you talk of, blows us from ourselves; +Supper is done, and we shall come too late. + +ROMEO +I fear, too early: for my mind misgives +Some consequence yet hanging in the stars +Shall bitterly begin his fearful date +With this night's revels and expire the term +Of a despised life closed in my breast +By some vile forfeit of untimely death. +But He, that hath the steerage of my course, +Direct my sail! On, lusty gentlemen. + +BENVOLIO +Strike, drum. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A hall in Capulet's house. + +Musicians waiting. Enter Servingmen with napkins +First Servant +Where's Potpan, that he helps not to take away? He +shift a trencher? he scrape a trencher! + +Second Servant +When good manners shall lie all in one or two men's +hands and they unwashed too, 'tis a foul thing. + +First Servant +Away with the joint-stools, remove the +court-cupboard, look to the plate. Good thou, save +me a piece of marchpane; and, as thou lovest me, let +the porter let in Susan Grindstone and Nell. +Antony, and Potpan! + +Second Servant +Ay, boy, ready. + +First Servant +You are looked for and called for, asked for and +sought for, in the great chamber. + +Second Servant +We cannot be here and there too. Cheerly, boys; be +brisk awhile, and the longer liver take all. + +Enter CAPULET, with JULIET and others of his house, meeting the Guests and Maskers + +CAPULET +Welcome, gentlemen! ladies that have their toes +Unplagued with corns will have a bout with you. +Ah ha, my mistresses! which of you all +Will now deny to dance? she that makes dainty, +She, I'll swear, hath corns; am I come near ye now? +Welcome, gentlemen! I have seen the day +That I have worn a visor and could tell +A whispering tale in a fair lady's ear, +Such as would please: 'tis gone, 'tis gone, 'tis gone: +You are welcome, gentlemen! come, musicians, play. +A hall, a hall! give room! and foot it, girls. + +Music plays, and they dance + +More light, you knaves; and turn the tables up, +And quench the fire, the room is grown too hot. +Ah, sirrah, this unlook'd-for sport comes well. +Nay, sit, nay, sit, good cousin Capulet; +For you and I are past our dancing days: +How long is't now since last yourself and I +Were in a mask? + +Second Capulet +By'r lady, thirty years. + +CAPULET +What, man! 'tis not so much, 'tis not so much: +'Tis since the nuptials of Lucentio, +Come pentecost as quickly as it will, +Some five and twenty years; and then we mask'd. + +Second Capulet +'Tis more, 'tis more, his son is elder, sir; +His son is thirty. + +CAPULET +Will you tell me that? +His son was but a ward two years ago. + +ROMEO +[To a Servingman] What lady is that, which doth +enrich the hand +Of yonder knight? + +Servant +I know not, sir. + +ROMEO +O, she doth teach the torches to burn bright! +It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night +Like a rich jewel in an Ethiope's ear; +Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear! +So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, +As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. +The measure done, I'll watch her place of stand, +And, touching hers, make blessed my rude hand. +Did my heart love till now? forswear it, sight! +For I ne'er saw true beauty till this night. + +TYBALT +This, by his voice, should be a Montague. +Fetch me my rapier, boy. What dares the slave +Come hither, cover'd with an antic face, +To fleer and scorn at our solemnity? +Now, by the stock and honour of my kin, +To strike him dead, I hold it not a sin. + +CAPULET +Why, how now, kinsman! wherefore storm you so? + +TYBALT +Uncle, this is a Montague, our foe, +A villain that is hither come in spite, +To scorn at our solemnity this night. + +CAPULET +Young Romeo is it? + +TYBALT +'Tis he, that villain Romeo. + +CAPULET +Content thee, gentle coz, let him alone; +He bears him like a portly gentleman; +And, to say truth, Verona brags of him +To be a virtuous and well-govern'd youth: +I would not for the wealth of all the town +Here in my house do him disparagement: +Therefore be patient, take no note of him: +It is my will, the which if thou respect, +Show a fair presence and put off these frowns, +And ill-beseeming semblance for a feast. + +TYBALT +It fits, when such a villain is a guest: +I'll not endure him. + +CAPULET +He shall be endured: +What, goodman boy! I say, he shall: go to; +Am I the master here, or you? go to. +You'll not endure him! God shall mend my soul! +You'll make a mutiny among my guests! +You will set cock-a-hoop! you'll be the man! + +TYBALT +Why, uncle, 'tis a shame. + +CAPULET +Go to, go to; +You are a saucy boy: is't so, indeed? +This trick may chance to scathe you, I know what: +You must contrary me! marry, 'tis time. +Well said, my hearts! You are a princox; go: +Be quiet, or--More light, more light! For shame! +I'll make you quiet. What, cheerly, my hearts! + +TYBALT +Patience perforce with wilful choler meeting +Makes my flesh tremble in their different greeting. +I will withdraw: but this intrusion shall +Now seeming sweet convert to bitter gall. + +Exit + +ROMEO +[To JULIET] If I profane with my unworthiest hand +This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: +My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand +To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss. + +JULIET +Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, +Which mannerly devotion shows in this; +For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, +And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss. + +ROMEO +Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too? + +JULIET +Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer. + +ROMEO +O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; +They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair. + +JULIET +Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake. + +ROMEO +Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. +Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged. + +JULIET +Then have my lips the sin that they have took. + +ROMEO +Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! +Give me my sin again. + +JULIET +You kiss by the book. + +Nurse +Madam, your mother craves a word with you. + +ROMEO +What is her mother? + +Nurse +Marry, bachelor, +Her mother is the lady of the house, +And a good lady, and a wise and virtuous +I nursed her daughter, that you talk'd withal; +I tell you, he that can lay hold of her +Shall have the chinks. + +ROMEO +Is she a Capulet? +O dear account! my life is my foe's debt. + +BENVOLIO +Away, begone; the sport is at the best. + +ROMEO +Ay, so I fear; the more is my unrest. + +CAPULET +Nay, gentlemen, prepare not to be gone; +We have a trifling foolish banquet towards. +Is it e'en so? why, then, I thank you all +I thank you, honest gentlemen; good night. +More torches here! Come on then, let's to bed. +Ah, sirrah, by my fay, it waxes late: +I'll to my rest. + +Exeunt all but JULIET and Nurse + +JULIET +Come hither, nurse. What is yond gentleman? + +Nurse +The son and heir of old Tiberio. + +JULIET +What's he that now is going out of door? + +Nurse +Marry, that, I think, be young Petrucio. + +JULIET +What's he that follows there, that would not dance? + +Nurse +I know not. + +JULIET +Go ask his name: if he be married. +My grave is like to be my wedding bed. + +Nurse +His name is Romeo, and a Montague; +The only son of your great enemy. + +JULIET +My only love sprung from my only hate! +Too early seen unknown, and known too late! +Prodigious birth of love it is to me, +That I must love a loathed enemy. + +Nurse +What's this? what's this? + +JULIET +A rhyme I learn'd even now +Of one I danced withal. + +One calls within 'Juliet.' + +Nurse +Anon, anon! +Come, let's away; the strangers all are gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now old desire doth in his death-bed lie, +And young affection gapes to be his heir; +That fair for which love groan'd for and would die, +With tender Juliet match'd, is now not fair. +Now Romeo is beloved and loves again, +Alike betwitched by the charm of looks, +But to his foe supposed he must complain, +And she steal love's sweet bait from fearful hooks: +Being held a foe, he may not have access +To breathe such vows as lovers use to swear; +And she as much in love, her means much less +To meet her new-beloved any where: +But passion lends them power, time means, to meet +Tempering extremities with extreme sweet. + +Exit + +SCENE I. A lane by the wall of Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +Can I go forward when my heart is here? +Turn back, dull earth, and find thy centre out. + +He climbs the wall, and leaps down within it + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO + +BENVOLIO +Romeo! my cousin Romeo! + +MERCUTIO +He is wise; +And, on my lie, hath stol'n him home to bed. + +BENVOLIO +He ran this way, and leap'd this orchard wall: +Call, good Mercutio. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I'll conjure too. +Romeo! humours! madman! passion! lover! +Appear thou in the likeness of a sigh: +Speak but one rhyme, and I am satisfied; +Cry but 'Ay me!' pronounce but 'love' and 'dove;' +Speak to my gossip Venus one fair word, +One nick-name for her purblind son and heir, +Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so trim, +When King Cophetua loved the beggar-maid! +He heareth not, he stirreth not, he moveth not; +The ape is dead, and I must conjure him. +I conjure thee by Rosaline's bright eyes, +By her high forehead and her scarlet lip, +By her fine foot, straight leg and quivering thigh +And the demesnes that there adjacent lie, +That in thy likeness thou appear to us! + +BENVOLIO +And if he hear thee, thou wilt anger him. + +MERCUTIO +This cannot anger him: 'twould anger him +To raise a spirit in his mistress' circle +Of some strange nature, letting it there stand +Till she had laid it and conjured it down; +That were some spite: my invocation +Is fair and honest, and in his mistres s' name +I conjure only but to raise up him. + +BENVOLIO +Come, he hath hid himself among these trees, +To be consorted with the humorous night: +Blind is his love and best befits the dark. + +MERCUTIO +If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark. +Now will he sit under a medlar tree, +And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit +As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone. +Romeo, that she were, O, that she were +An open et caetera, thou a poperin pear! +Romeo, good night: I'll to my truckle-bed; +This field-bed is too cold for me to sleep: +Come, shall we go? + +BENVOLIO +Go, then; for 'tis in vain +To seek him here that means not to be found. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +He jests at scars that never felt a wound. + +JULIET appears above at a window + +But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks? +It is the east, and Juliet is the sun. +Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, +Who is already sick and pale with grief, +That thou her maid art far more fair than she: +Be not her maid, since she is envious; +Her vestal livery is but sick and green +And none but fools do wear it; cast it off. +It is my lady, O, it is my love! +O, that she knew she were! +She speaks yet she says nothing: what of that? +Her eye discourses; I will answer it. +I am too bold, 'tis not to me she speaks: +Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, +Having some business, do entreat her eyes +To twinkle in their spheres till they return. +What if her eyes were there, they in her head? +The brightness of her cheek would shame those stars, +As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven +Would through the airy region stream so bright +That birds would sing and think it were not night. +See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand! +O, that I were a glove upon that hand, +That I might touch that cheek! + +JULIET +Ay me! + +ROMEO +She speaks: +O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art +As glorious to this night, being o'er my head +As is a winged messenger of heaven +Unto the white-upturned wondering eyes +Of mortals that fall back to gaze on him +When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds +And sails upon the bosom of the air. + +JULIET +O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? +Deny thy father and refuse thy name; +Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, +And I'll no longer be a Capulet. + +ROMEO +[Aside] Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this? + +JULIET +'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; +Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. +What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, +Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part +Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! +What's in a name? that which we call a rose +By any other name would smell as sweet; +So Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, +Retain that dear perfection which he owes +Without that title. Romeo, doff thy name, +And for that name which is no part of thee +Take all myself. + +ROMEO +I take thee at thy word: +Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; +Henceforth I never will be Romeo. + +JULIET +What man art thou that thus bescreen'd in night +So stumblest on my counsel? + +ROMEO +By a name +I know not how to tell thee who I am: +My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself, +Because it is an enemy to thee; +Had I it written, I would tear the word. + +JULIET +My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words +Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound: +Art thou not Romeo and a Montague? + +ROMEO +Neither, fair saint, if either thee dislike. + +JULIET +How camest thou hither, tell me, and wherefore? +The orchard walls are high and hard to climb, +And the place death, considering who thou art, +If any of my kinsmen find thee here. + +ROMEO +With love's light wings did I o'er-perch these walls; +For stony limits cannot hold love out, +And what love can do that dares love attempt; +Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me. + +JULIET +If they do see thee, they will murder thee. + +ROMEO +Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye +Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, +And I am proof against their enmity. + +JULIET +I would not for the world they saw thee here. + +ROMEO +I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; +And but thou love me, let them find me here: +My life were better ended by their hate, +Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love. + +JULIET +By whose direction found'st thou out this place? + +ROMEO +By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; +He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. +I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far +As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, +I would adventure for such merchandise. + +JULIET +Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, +Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek +For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night +Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny +What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! +Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' +And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, +Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries +Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, +If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: +Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, +I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, +So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. +In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, +And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: +But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true +Than those that have more cunning to be strange. +I should have been more strange, I must confess, +But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, +My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, +And not impute this yielding to light love, +Which the dark night hath so discovered. + +ROMEO +Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear +That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops-- + +JULIET +O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, +That monthly changes in her circled orb, +Lest that thy love prove likewise variable. + +ROMEO +What shall I swear by? + +JULIET +Do not swear at all; +Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, +Which is the god of my idolatry, +And I'll believe thee. + +ROMEO +If my heart's dear love-- + +JULIET +Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, +I have no joy of this contract to-night: +It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; +Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be +Ere one can say 'It lightens.' Sweet, good night! +This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, +May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. +Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest +Come to thy heart as that within my breast! + +ROMEO +O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? + +JULIET +What satisfaction canst thou have to-night? + +ROMEO +The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine. + +JULIET +I gave thee mine before thou didst request it: +And yet I would it were to give again. + +ROMEO +Wouldst thou withdraw it? for what purpose, love? + +JULIET +But to be frank, and give it thee again. +And yet I wish but for the thing I have: +My bounty is as boundless as the sea, +My love as deep; the more I give to thee, +The more I have, for both are infinite. + +Nurse calls within + +I hear some noise within; dear love, adieu! +Anon, good nurse! Sweet Montague, be true. +Stay but a little, I will come again. + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +O blessed, blessed night! I am afeard. +Being in night, all this is but a dream, +Too flattering-sweet to be substantial. + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Three words, dear Romeo, and good night indeed. +If that thy bent of love be honourable, +Thy purpose marriage, send me word to-morrow, +By one that I'll procure to come to thee, +Where and what time thou wilt perform the rite; +And all my fortunes at thy foot I'll lay +And follow thee my lord throughout the world. + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +I come, anon.--But if thou mean'st not well, +I do beseech thee-- + +Nurse +[Within] Madam! + +JULIET +By and by, I come:-- +To cease thy suit, and leave me to my grief: +To-morrow will I send. + +ROMEO +So thrive my soul-- + +JULIET +A thousand times good night! + +Exit, above + +ROMEO +A thousand times the worse, to want thy light. +Love goes toward love, as schoolboys from +their books, +But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. + +Retiring + +Re-enter JULIET, above + +JULIET +Hist! Romeo, hist! O, for a falconer's voice, +To lure this tassel-gentle back again! +Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud; +Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies, +And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine, +With repetition of my Romeo's name. + +ROMEO +It is my soul that calls upon my name: +How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night, +Like softest music to attending ears! + +JULIET +Romeo! + +ROMEO +My dear? + +JULIET +At what o'clock to-morrow +Shall I send to thee? + +ROMEO +At the hour of nine. + +JULIET +I will not fail: 'tis twenty years till then. +I have forgot why I did call thee back. + +ROMEO +Let me stand here till thou remember it. + +JULIET +I shall forget, to have thee still stand there, +Remembering how I love thy company. + +ROMEO +And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, +Forgetting any other home but this. + +JULIET +'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone: +And yet no further than a wanton's bird; +Who lets it hop a little from her hand, +Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves, +And with a silk thread plucks it back again, +So loving-jealous of his liberty. + +ROMEO +I would I were thy bird. + +JULIET +Sweet, so would I: +Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing. +Good night, good night! parting is such +sweet sorrow, +That I shall say good night till it be morrow. + +Exit above + +ROMEO +Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast! +Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest! +Hence will I to my ghostly father's cell, +His help to crave, and my dear hap to tell. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE, with a basket +FRIAR LAURENCE +The grey-eyed morn smiles on the frowning night, +Chequering the eastern clouds with streaks of light, +And flecked darkness like a drunkard reels +From forth day's path and Titan's fiery wheels: +Now, ere the sun advance his burning eye, +The day to cheer and night's dank dew to dry, +I must up-fill this osier cage of ours +With baleful weeds and precious-juiced flowers. +The earth that's nature's mother is her tomb; +What is her burying grave that is her womb, +And from her womb children of divers kind +We sucking on her natural bosom find, +Many for many virtues excellent, +None but for some and yet all different. +O, mickle is the powerful grace that lies +In herbs, plants, stones, and their true qualities: +For nought so vile that on the earth doth live +But to the earth some special good doth give, +Nor aught so good but strain'd from that fair use +Revolts from true birth, stumbling on abuse: +Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied; +And vice sometimes by action dignified. +Within the infant rind of this small flower +Poison hath residence and medicine power: +For this, being smelt, with that part cheers each part; +Being tasted, slays all senses with the heart. +Two such opposed kings encamp them still +In man as well as herbs, grace and rude will; +And where the worser is predominant, +Full soon the canker death eats up that plant. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Good morrow, father. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Benedicite! +What early tongue so sweet saluteth me? +Young son, it argues a distemper'd head +So soon to bid good morrow to thy bed: +Care keeps his watch in every old man's eye, +And where care lodges, sleep will never lie; +But where unbruised youth with unstuff'd brain +Doth couch his limbs, there golden sleep doth reign: +Therefore thy earliness doth me assure +Thou art up-roused by some distemperature; +Or if not so, then here I hit it right, +Our Romeo hath not been in bed to-night. + +ROMEO +That last is true; the sweeter rest was mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +God pardon sin! wast thou with Rosaline? + +ROMEO +With Rosaline, my ghostly father? no; +I have forgot that name, and that name's woe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's my good son: but where hast thou been, then? + +ROMEO +I'll tell thee, ere thou ask it me again. +I have been feasting with mine enemy, +Where on a sudden one hath wounded me, +That's by me wounded: both our remedies +Within thy help and holy physic lies: +I bear no hatred, blessed man, for, lo, +My intercession likewise steads my foe. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Be plain, good son, and homely in thy drift; +Riddling confession finds but riddling shrift. + +ROMEO +Then plainly know my heart's dear love is set +On the fair daughter of rich Capulet: +As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine; +And all combined, save what thou must combine +By holy marriage: when and where and how +We met, we woo'd and made exchange of vow, +I'll tell thee as we pass; but this I pray, +That thou consent to marry us to-day. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Holy Saint Francis, what a change is here! +Is Rosaline, whom thou didst love so dear, +So soon forsaken? young men's love then lies +Not truly in their hearts, but in their eyes. +Jesu Maria, what a deal of brine +Hath wash'd thy sallow cheeks for Rosaline! +How much salt water thrown away in waste, +To season love, that of it doth not taste! +The sun not yet thy sighs from heaven clears, +Thy old groans ring yet in my ancient ears; +Lo, here upon thy cheek the stain doth sit +Of an old tear that is not wash'd off yet: +If e'er thou wast thyself and these woes thine, +Thou and these woes were all for Rosaline: +And art thou changed? pronounce this sentence then, +Women may fall, when there's no strength in men. + +ROMEO +Thou chid'st me oft for loving Rosaline. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +For doting, not for loving, pupil mine. + +ROMEO +And bad'st me bury love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Not in a grave, +To lay one in, another out to have. + +ROMEO +I pray thee, chide not; she whom I love now +Doth grace for grace and love for love allow; +The other did not so. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, she knew well +Thy love did read by rote and could not spell. +But come, young waverer, come, go with me, +In one respect I'll thy assistant be; +For this alliance may so happy prove, +To turn your households' rancour to pure love. + +ROMEO +O, let us hence; I stand on sudden haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Wisely and slow; they stumble that run fast. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter BENVOLIO and MERCUTIO +MERCUTIO +Where the devil should this Romeo be? +Came he not home to-night? + +BENVOLIO +Not to his father's; I spoke with his man. + +MERCUTIO +Ah, that same pale hard-hearted wench, that Rosaline. +Torments him so, that he will sure run mad. + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, the kinsman of old Capulet, +Hath sent a letter to his father's house. + +MERCUTIO +A challenge, on my life. + +BENVOLIO +Romeo will answer it. + +MERCUTIO +Any man that can write may answer a letter. + +BENVOLIO +Nay, he will answer the letter's master, how he +dares, being dared. + +MERCUTIO +Alas poor Romeo! he is already dead; stabbed with a +white wench's black eye; shot through the ear with a +love-song; the very pin of his heart cleft with the +blind bow-boy's butt-shaft: and is he a man to +encounter Tybalt? + +BENVOLIO +Why, what is Tybalt? + +MERCUTIO +More than prince of cats, I can tell you. O, he is +the courageous captain of compliments. He fights as +you sing prick-song, keeps time, distance, and +proportion; rests me his minim rest, one, two, and +the third in your bosom: the very butcher of a silk +button, a duellist, a duellist; a gentleman of the +very first house, of the first and second cause: +ah, the immortal passado! the punto reverso! the +hai! + +BENVOLIO +The what? + +MERCUTIO +The pox of such antic, lisping, affecting +fantasticoes; these new tuners of accents! 'By Jesu, +a very good blade! a very tall man! a very good +whore!' Why, is not this a lamentable thing, +grandsire, that we should be thus afflicted with +these strange flies, these fashion-mongers, these +perdona-mi's, who stand so much on the new form, +that they cannot at ease on the old bench? O, their +bones, their bones! + +Enter ROMEO + +BENVOLIO +Here comes Romeo, here comes Romeo. + +MERCUTIO +Without his roe, like a dried herring: flesh, flesh, +how art thou fishified! Now is he for the numbers +that Petrarch flowed in: Laura to his lady was but a +kitchen-wench; marry, she had a better love to +be-rhyme her; Dido a dowdy; Cleopatra a gipsy; +Helen and Hero hildings and harlots; Thisbe a grey +eye or so, but not to the purpose. Signior +Romeo, bon jour! there's a French salutation +to your French slop. You gave us the counterfeit +fairly last night. + +ROMEO +Good morrow to you both. What counterfeit did I give you? + +MERCUTIO +The ship, sir, the slip; can you not conceive? + +ROMEO +Pardon, good Mercutio, my business was great; and in +such a case as mine a man may strain courtesy. + +MERCUTIO +That's as much as to say, such a case as yours +constrains a man to bow in the hams. + +ROMEO +Meaning, to court'sy. + +MERCUTIO +Thou hast most kindly hit it. + +ROMEO +A most courteous exposition. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, I am the very pink of courtesy. + +ROMEO +Pink for flower. + +MERCUTIO +Right. + +ROMEO +Why, then is my pump well flowered. + +MERCUTIO +Well said: follow me this jest now till thou hast +worn out thy pump, that when the single sole of it +is worn, the jest may remain after the wearing sole singular. + +ROMEO +O single-soled jest, solely singular for the +singleness. + +MERCUTIO +Come between us, good Benvolio; my wits faint. + +ROMEO +Switch and spurs, switch and spurs; or I'll cry a match. + +MERCUTIO +Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have +done, for thou hast more of the wild-goose in one of +thy wits than, I am sure, I have in my whole five: +was I with you there for the goose? + +ROMEO +Thou wast never with me for any thing when thou wast +not there for the goose. + +MERCUTIO +I will bite thee by the ear for that jest. + +ROMEO +Nay, good goose, bite not. + +MERCUTIO +Thy wit is a very bitter sweeting; it is a most +sharp sauce. + +ROMEO +And is it not well served in to a sweet goose? + +MERCUTIO +O here's a wit of cheveril, that stretches from an +inch narrow to an ell broad! + +ROMEO +I stretch it out for that word 'broad;' which added +to the goose, proves thee far and wide a broad goose. + +MERCUTIO +Why, is not this better now than groaning for love? +now art thou sociable, now art thou Romeo; now art +thou what thou art, by art as well as by nature: +for this drivelling love is like a great natural, +that runs lolling up and down to hide his bauble in a hole. + +BENVOLIO +Stop there, stop there. + +MERCUTIO +Thou desirest me to stop in my tale against the hair. + +BENVOLIO +Thou wouldst else have made thy tale large. + +MERCUTIO +O, thou art deceived; I would have made it short: +for I was come to the whole depth of my tale; and +meant, indeed, to occupy the argument no longer. + +ROMEO +Here's goodly gear! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +MERCUTIO +A sail, a sail! + +BENVOLIO +Two, two; a shirt and a smock. + +Nurse +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +My fan, Peter. + +MERCUTIO +Good Peter, to hide her face; for her fan's the +fairer face. + +Nurse +God ye good morrow, gentlemen. + +MERCUTIO +God ye good den, fair gentlewoman. + +Nurse +Is it good den? + +MERCUTIO +'Tis no less, I tell you, for the bawdy hand of the +dial is now upon the prick of noon. + +Nurse +Out upon you! what a man are you! + +ROMEO +One, gentlewoman, that God hath made for himself to +mar. + +Nurse +By my troth, it is well said; 'for himself to mar,' +quoth a'? Gentlemen, can any of you tell me where I +may find the young Romeo? + +ROMEO +I can tell you; but young Romeo will be older when +you have found him than he was when you sought him: +I am the youngest of that name, for fault of a worse. + +Nurse +You say well. + +MERCUTIO +Yea, is the worst well? very well took, i' faith; +wisely, wisely. + +Nurse +if you be he, sir, I desire some confidence with +you. + +BENVOLIO +She will indite him to some supper. + +MERCUTIO +A bawd, a bawd, a bawd! so ho! + +ROMEO +What hast thou found? + +MERCUTIO +No hare, sir; unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, +that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent. + +Sings + +An old hare hoar, +And an old hare hoar, +Is very good meat in lent +But a hare that is hoar +Is too much for a score, +When it hoars ere it be spent. +Romeo, will you come to your father's? we'll +to dinner, thither. + +ROMEO +I will follow you. + +MERCUTIO +Farewell, ancient lady; farewell, + +Singing + +'lady, lady, lady.' + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +Nurse +Marry, farewell! I pray you, sir, what saucy +merchant was this, that was so full of his ropery? + +ROMEO +A gentleman, nurse, that loves to hear himself talk, +and will speak more in a minute than he will stand +to in a month. + +Nurse +An a' speak any thing against me, I'll take him +down, an a' were lustier than he is, and twenty such +Jacks; and if I cannot, I'll find those that shall. +Scurvy knave! I am none of his flirt-gills; I am +none of his skains-mates. And thou must stand by +too, and suffer every knave to use me at his pleasure? + +PETER +I saw no man use you a pleasure; if I had, my weapon +should quickly have been out, I warrant you: I dare +draw as soon as another man, if I see occasion in a +good quarrel, and the law on my side. + +Nurse +Now, afore God, I am so vexed, that every part about +me quivers. Scurvy knave! Pray you, sir, a word: +and as I told you, my young lady bade me inquire you +out; what she bade me say, I will keep to myself: +but first let me tell ye, if ye should lead her into +a fool's paradise, as they say, it were a very gross +kind of behavior, as they say: for the gentlewoman +is young; and, therefore, if you should deal double +with her, truly it were an ill thing to be offered +to any gentlewoman, and very weak dealing. + +ROMEO +Nurse, commend me to thy lady and mistress. I +protest unto thee-- + +Nurse +Good heart, and, i' faith, I will tell her as much: +Lord, Lord, she will be a joyful woman. + +ROMEO +What wilt thou tell her, nurse? thou dost not mark me. + +Nurse +I will tell her, sir, that you do protest; which, as +I take it, is a gentlemanlike offer. + +ROMEO +Bid her devise +Some means to come to shrift this afternoon; +And there she shall at Friar Laurence' cell +Be shrived and married. Here is for thy pains. + +Nurse +No truly sir; not a penny. + +ROMEO +Go to; I say you shall. + +Nurse +This afternoon, sir? well, she shall be there. + +ROMEO +And stay, good nurse, behind the abbey wall: +Within this hour my man shall be with thee +And bring thee cords made like a tackled stair; +Which to the high top-gallant of my joy +Must be my convoy in the secret night. +Farewell; be trusty, and I'll quit thy pains: +Farewell; commend me to thy mistress. + +Nurse +Now God in heaven bless thee! Hark you, sir. + +ROMEO +What say'st thou, my dear nurse? + +Nurse +Is your man secret? Did you ne'er hear say, +Two may keep counsel, putting one away? + +ROMEO +I warrant thee, my man's as true as steel. + +NURSE +Well, sir; my mistress is the sweetest lady--Lord, +Lord! when 'twas a little prating thing:--O, there +is a nobleman in town, one Paris, that would fain +lay knife aboard; but she, good soul, had as lief +see a toad, a very toad, as see him. I anger her +sometimes and tell her that Paris is the properer +man; but, I'll warrant you, when I say so, she looks +as pale as any clout in the versal world. Doth not +rosemary and Romeo begin both with a letter? + +ROMEO +Ay, nurse; what of that? both with an R. + +Nurse +Ah. mocker! that's the dog's name; R is for +the--No; I know it begins with some other +letter:--and she hath the prettiest sententious of +it, of you and rosemary, that it would do you good +to hear it. + +ROMEO +Commend me to thy lady. + +Nurse +Ay, a thousand times. + +Exit Romeo + +Peter! + +PETER +Anon! + +Nurse +Peter, take my fan, and go before and apace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +The clock struck nine when I did send the nurse; +In half an hour she promised to return. +Perchance she cannot meet him: that's not so. +O, she is lame! love's heralds should be thoughts, +Which ten times faster glide than the sun's beams, +Driving back shadows over louring hills: +Therefore do nimble-pinion'd doves draw love, +And therefore hath the wind-swift Cupid wings. +Now is the sun upon the highmost hill +Of this day's journey, and from nine till twelve +Is three long hours, yet she is not come. +Had she affections and warm youthful blood, +She would be as swift in motion as a ball; +My words would bandy her to my sweet love, +And his to me: +But old folks, many feign as they were dead; +Unwieldy, slow, heavy and pale as lead. +O God, she comes! + +Enter Nurse and PETER + +O honey nurse, what news? +Hast thou met with him? Send thy man away. + +Nurse +Peter, stay at the gate. + +Exit PETER + +JULIET +Now, good sweet nurse,--O Lord, why look'st thou sad? +Though news be sad, yet tell them merrily; +If good, thou shamest the music of sweet news +By playing it to me with so sour a face. + +Nurse +I am a-weary, give me leave awhile: +Fie, how my bones ache! what a jaunt have I had! + +JULIET +I would thou hadst my bones, and I thy news: +Nay, come, I pray thee, speak; good, good nurse, speak. + +Nurse +Jesu, what haste? can you not stay awhile? +Do you not see that I am out of breath? + +JULIET +How art thou out of breath, when thou hast breath +To say to me that thou art out of breath? +The excuse that thou dost make in this delay +Is longer than the tale thou dost excuse. +Is thy news good, or bad? answer to that; +Say either, and I'll stay the circumstance: +Let me be satisfied, is't good or bad? + +Nurse +Well, you have made a simple choice; you know not +how to choose a man: Romeo! no, not he; though his +face be better than any man's, yet his leg excels +all men's; and for a hand, and a foot, and a body, +though they be not to be talked on, yet they are +past compare: he is not the flower of courtesy, +but, I'll warrant him, as gentle as a lamb. Go thy +ways, wench; serve God. What, have you dined at home? + +JULIET +No, no: but all this did I know before. +What says he of our marriage? what of that? + +Nurse +Lord, how my head aches! what a head have I! +It beats as it would fall in twenty pieces. +My back o' t' other side,--O, my back, my back! +Beshrew your heart for sending me about, +To catch my death with jaunting up and down! + +JULIET +I' faith, I am sorry that thou art not well. +Sweet, sweet, sweet nurse, tell me, what says my love? + +Nurse +Your love says, like an honest gentleman, and a +courteous, and a kind, and a handsome, and, I +warrant, a virtuous,--Where is your mother? + +JULIET +Where is my mother! why, she is within; +Where should she be? How oddly thou repliest! +'Your love says, like an honest gentleman, +Where is your mother?' + +Nurse +O God's lady dear! +Are you so hot? marry, come up, I trow; +Is this the poultice for my aching bones? +Henceforward do your messages yourself. + +JULIET +Here's such a coil! come, what says Romeo? + +Nurse +Have you got leave to go to shrift to-day? + +JULIET +I have. + +Nurse +Then hie you hence to Friar Laurence' cell; +There stays a husband to make you a wife: +Now comes the wanton blood up in your cheeks, +They'll be in scarlet straight at any news. +Hie you to church; I must another way, +To fetch a ladder, by the which your love +Must climb a bird's nest soon when it is dark: +I am the drudge and toil in your delight, +But you shall bear the burden soon at night. +Go; I'll to dinner: hie you to the cell. + +JULIET +Hie to high fortune! Honest nurse, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and ROMEO +FRIAR LAURENCE +So smile the heavens upon this holy act, +That after hours with sorrow chide us not! + +ROMEO +Amen, amen! but come what sorrow can, +It cannot countervail the exchange of joy +That one short minute gives me in her sight: +Do thou but close our hands with holy words, +Then love-devouring death do what he dare; +It is enough I may but call her mine. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +These violent delights have violent ends +And in their triumph die, like fire and powder, +Which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey +Is loathsome in his own deliciousness +And in the taste confounds the appetite: +Therefore love moderately; long love doth so; +Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow. + +Enter JULIET + +Here comes the lady: O, so light a foot +Will ne'er wear out the everlasting flint: +A lover may bestride the gossamer +That idles in the wanton summer air, +And yet not fall; so light is vanity. + +JULIET +Good even to my ghostly confessor. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo shall thank thee, daughter, for us both. + +JULIET +As much to him, else is his thanks too much. + +ROMEO +Ah, Juliet, if the measure of thy joy +Be heap'd like mine and that thy skill be more +To blazon it, then sweeten with thy breath +This neighbour air, and let rich music's tongue +Unfold the imagined happiness that both +Receive in either by this dear encounter. + +JULIET +Conceit, more rich in matter than in words, +Brags of his substance, not of ornament: +They are but beggars that can count their worth; +But my true love is grown to such excess +I cannot sum up sum of half my wealth. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, come with me, and we will make short work; +For, by your leaves, you shall not stay alone +Till holy church incorporate two in one. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A public place. + +Enter MERCUTIO, BENVOLIO, Page, and Servants +BENVOLIO +I pray thee, good Mercutio, let's retire: +The day is hot, the Capulets abroad, +And, if we meet, we shall not scape a brawl; +For now, these hot days, is the mad blood stirring. + +MERCUTIO +Thou art like one of those fellows that when he +enters the confines of a tavern claps me his sword +upon the table and says 'God send me no need of +thee!' and by the operation of the second cup draws +it on the drawer, when indeed there is no need. + +BENVOLIO +Am I like such a fellow? + +MERCUTIO +Come, come, thou art as hot a Jack in thy mood as +any in Italy, and as soon moved to be moody, and as +soon moody to be moved. + +BENVOLIO +And what to? + +MERCUTIO +Nay, an there were two such, we should have none +shortly, for one would kill the other. Thou! why, +thou wilt quarrel with a man that hath a hair more, +or a hair less, in his beard, than thou hast: thou +wilt quarrel with a man for cracking nuts, having no +other reason but because thou hast hazel eyes: what +eye but such an eye would spy out such a quarrel? +Thy head is as fun of quarrels as an egg is full of +meat, and yet thy head hath been beaten as addle as +an egg for quarrelling: thou hast quarrelled with a +man for coughing in the street, because he hath +wakened thy dog that hath lain asleep in the sun: +didst thou not fall out with a tailor for wearing +his new doublet before Easter? with another, for +tying his new shoes with old riband? and yet thou +wilt tutor me from quarrelling! + +BENVOLIO +An I were so apt to quarrel as thou art, any man +should buy the fee-simple of my life for an hour and a quarter. + +MERCUTIO +The fee-simple! O simple! + +BENVOLIO +By my head, here come the Capulets. + +MERCUTIO +By my heel, I care not. + +Enter TYBALT and others + +TYBALT +Follow me close, for I will speak to them. +Gentlemen, good den: a word with one of you. + +MERCUTIO +And but one word with one of us? couple it with +something; make it a word and a blow. + +TYBALT +You shall find me apt enough to that, sir, an you +will give me occasion. + +MERCUTIO +Could you not take some occasion without giving? + +TYBALT +Mercutio, thou consort'st with Romeo,-- + +MERCUTIO +Consort! what, dost thou make us minstrels? an +thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but +discords: here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall +make you dance. 'Zounds, consort! + +BENVOLIO +We talk here in the public haunt of men: +Either withdraw unto some private place, +And reason coldly of your grievances, +Or else depart; here all eyes gaze on us. + +MERCUTIO +Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; +I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I. + +Enter ROMEO + +TYBALT +Well, peace be with you, sir: here comes my man. + +MERCUTIO +But I'll be hanged, sir, if he wear your livery: +Marry, go before to field, he'll be your follower; +Your worship in that sense may call him 'man.' + +TYBALT +Romeo, the hate I bear thee can afford +No better term than this,--thou art a villain. + +ROMEO +Tybalt, the reason that I have to love thee +Doth much excuse the appertaining rage +To such a greeting: villain am I none; +Therefore farewell; I see thou know'st me not. + +TYBALT +Boy, this shall not excuse the injuries +That thou hast done me; therefore turn and draw. + +ROMEO +I do protest, I never injured thee, +But love thee better than thou canst devise, +Till thou shalt know the reason of my love: +And so, good Capulet,--which name I tender +As dearly as my own,--be satisfied. + +MERCUTIO +O calm, dishonourable, vile submission! +Alla stoccata carries it away. + +Draws + +Tybalt, you rat-catcher, will you walk? + +TYBALT +What wouldst thou have with me? + +MERCUTIO +Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine +lives; that I mean to make bold withal, and as you +shall use me hereafter, drybeat the rest of the +eight. Will you pluck your sword out of his pitcher +by the ears? make haste, lest mine be about your +ears ere it be out. + +TYBALT +I am for you. + +Drawing + +ROMEO +Gentle Mercutio, put thy rapier up. + +MERCUTIO +Come, sir, your passado. + +They fight + +ROMEO +Draw, Benvolio; beat down their weapons. +Gentlemen, for shame, forbear this outrage! +Tybalt, Mercutio, the prince expressly hath +Forbidden bandying in Verona streets: +Hold, Tybalt! good Mercutio! + +TYBALT under ROMEO's arm stabs MERCUTIO, and flies with his followers + +MERCUTIO +I am hurt. +A plague o' both your houses! I am sped. +Is he gone, and hath nothing? + +BENVOLIO +What, art thou hurt? + +MERCUTIO +Ay, ay, a scratch, a scratch; marry, 'tis enough. +Where is my page? Go, villain, fetch a surgeon. + +Exit Page + +ROMEO +Courage, man; the hurt cannot be much. + +MERCUTIO +No, 'tis not so deep as a well, nor so wide as a +church-door; but 'tis enough,'twill serve: ask for +me to-morrow, and you shall find me a grave man. I +am peppered, I warrant, for this world. A plague o' +both your houses! 'Zounds, a dog, a rat, a mouse, a +cat, to scratch a man to death! a braggart, a +rogue, a villain, that fights by the book of +arithmetic! Why the devil came you between us? I +was hurt under your arm. + +ROMEO +I thought all for the best. + +MERCUTIO +Help me into some house, Benvolio, +Or I shall faint. A plague o' both your houses! +They have made worms' meat of me: I have it, +And soundly too: your houses! + +Exeunt MERCUTIO and BENVOLIO + +ROMEO +This gentleman, the prince's near ally, +My very friend, hath got his mortal hurt +In my behalf; my reputation stain'd +With Tybalt's slander,--Tybalt, that an hour +Hath been my kinsman! O sweet Juliet, +Thy beauty hath made me effeminate +And in my temper soften'd valour's steel! + +Re-enter BENVOLIO + +BENVOLIO +O Romeo, Romeo, brave Mercutio's dead! +That gallant spirit hath aspired the clouds, +Which too untimely here did scorn the earth. + +ROMEO +This day's black fate on more days doth depend; +This but begins the woe, others must end. + +BENVOLIO +Here comes the furious Tybalt back again. + +ROMEO +Alive, in triumph! and Mercutio slain! +Away to heaven, respective lenity, +And fire-eyed fury be my conduct now! + +Re-enter TYBALT + +Now, Tybalt, take the villain back again, +That late thou gavest me; for Mercutio's soul +Is but a little way above our heads, +Staying for thine to keep him company: +Either thou, or I, or both, must go with him. + +TYBALT +Thou, wretched boy, that didst consort him here, +Shalt with him hence. + +ROMEO +This shall determine that. + +They fight; TYBALT falls + +BENVOLIO +Romeo, away, be gone! +The citizens are up, and Tybalt slain. +Stand not amazed: the prince will doom thee death, +If thou art taken: hence, be gone, away! + +ROMEO +O, I am fortune's fool! + +BENVOLIO +Why dost thou stay? + +Exit ROMEO + +Enter Citizens, & c + +First Citizen +Which way ran he that kill'd Mercutio? +Tybalt, that murderer, which way ran he? + +BENVOLIO +There lies that Tybalt. + +First Citizen +Up, sir, go with me; +I charge thee in the princes name, obey. + +Enter Prince, attended; MONTAGUE, CAPULET, their Wives, and others + +PRINCE +Where are the vile beginners of this fray? + +BENVOLIO +O noble prince, I can discover all +The unlucky manage of this fatal brawl: +There lies the man, slain by young Romeo, +That slew thy kinsman, brave Mercutio. + +LADY CAPULET +Tybalt, my cousin! O my brother's child! +O prince! O cousin! husband! O, the blood is spilt +O my dear kinsman! Prince, as thou art true, +For blood of ours, shed blood of Montague. +O cousin, cousin! + +PRINCE +Benvolio, who began this bloody fray? + +BENVOLIO +Tybalt, here slain, whom Romeo's hand did slay; +Romeo that spoke him fair, bade him bethink +How nice the quarrel was, and urged withal +Your high displeasure: all this uttered +With gentle breath, calm look, knees humbly bow'd, +Could not take truce with the unruly spleen +Of Tybalt deaf to peace, but that he tilts +With piercing steel at bold Mercutio's breast, +Who all as hot, turns deadly point to point, +And, with a martial scorn, with one hand beats +Cold death aside, and with the other sends +It back to Tybalt, whose dexterity, +Retorts it: Romeo he cries aloud, +'Hold, friends! friends, part!' and, swifter than +his tongue, +His agile arm beats down their fatal points, +And 'twixt them rushes; underneath whose arm +An envious thrust from Tybalt hit the life +Of stout Mercutio, and then Tybalt fled; +But by and by comes back to Romeo, +Who had but newly entertain'd revenge, +And to 't they go like lightning, for, ere I +Could draw to part them, was stout Tybalt slain. +And, as he fell, did Romeo turn and fly. +This is the truth, or let Benvolio die. + +LADY CAPULET +He is a kinsman to the Montague; +Affection makes him false; he speaks not true: +Some twenty of them fought in this black strife, +And all those twenty could but kill one life. +I beg for justice, which thou, prince, must give; +Romeo slew Tybalt, Romeo must not live. + +PRINCE +Romeo slew him, he slew Mercutio; +Who now the price of his dear blood doth owe? + +MONTAGUE +Not Romeo, prince, he was Mercutio's friend; +His fault concludes but what the law should end, +The life of Tybalt. + +PRINCE +And for that offence +Immediately we do exile him hence: +I have an interest in your hate's proceeding, +My blood for your rude brawls doth lie a-bleeding; +But I'll amerce you with so strong a fine +That you shall all repent the loss of mine: +I will be deaf to pleading and excuses; +Nor tears nor prayers shall purchase out abuses: +Therefore use none: let Romeo hence in haste, +Else, when he's found, that hour is his last. +Bear hence this body and attend our will: +Mercy but murders, pardoning those that kill. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter JULIET +JULIET +Gallop apace, you fiery-footed steeds, +Towards Phoebus' lodging: such a wagoner +As Phaethon would whip you to the west, +And bring in cloudy night immediately. +Spread thy close curtain, love-performing night, +That runaway's eyes may wink and Romeo +Leap to these arms, untalk'd of and unseen. +Lovers can see to do their amorous rites +By their own beauties; or, if love be blind, +It best agrees with night. Come, civil night, +Thou sober-suited matron, all in black, +And learn me how to lose a winning match, +Play'd for a pair of stainless maidenhoods: +Hood my unmann'd blood, bating in my cheeks, +With thy black mantle; till strange love, grown bold, +Think true love acted simple modesty. +Come, night; come, Romeo; come, thou day in night; +For thou wilt lie upon the wings of night +Whiter than new snow on a raven's back. +Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night, +Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, +Take him and cut him out in little stars, +And he will make the face of heaven so fine +That all the world will be in love with night +And pay no worship to the garish sun. +O, I have bought the mansion of a love, +But not possess'd it, and, though I am sold, +Not yet enjoy'd: so tedious is this day +As is the night before some festival +To an impatient child that hath new robes +And may not wear them. O, here comes my nurse, +And she brings news; and every tongue that speaks +But Romeo's name speaks heavenly eloquence. + +Enter Nurse, with cords + +Now, nurse, what news? What hast thou there? the cords +That Romeo bid thee fetch? + +Nurse +Ay, ay, the cords. + +Throws them down + +JULIET +Ay me! what news? why dost thou wring thy hands? + +Nurse +Ah, well-a-day! he's dead, he's dead, he's dead! +We are undone, lady, we are undone! +Alack the day! he's gone, he's kill'd, he's dead! + +JULIET +Can heaven be so envious? + +Nurse +Romeo can, +Though heaven cannot: O Romeo, Romeo! +Who ever would have thought it? Romeo! + +JULIET +What devil art thou, that dost torment me thus? +This torture should be roar'd in dismal hell. +Hath Romeo slain himself? say thou but 'I,' +And that bare vowel 'I' shall poison more +Than the death-darting eye of cockatrice: +I am not I, if there be such an I; +Or those eyes shut, that make thee answer 'I.' +If he be slain, say 'I'; or if not, no: +Brief sounds determine of my weal or woe. + +Nurse +I saw the wound, I saw it with mine eyes,-- +God save the mark!--here on his manly breast: +A piteous corse, a bloody piteous corse; +Pale, pale as ashes, all bedaub'd in blood, +All in gore-blood; I swounded at the sight. + +JULIET +O, break, my heart! poor bankrupt, break at once! +To prison, eyes, ne'er look on liberty! +Vile earth, to earth resign; end motion here; +And thou and Romeo press one heavy bier! + +Nurse +O Tybalt, Tybalt, the best friend I had! +O courteous Tybalt! honest gentleman! +That ever I should live to see thee dead! + +JULIET +What storm is this that blows so contrary? +Is Romeo slaughter'd, and is Tybalt dead? +My dear-loved cousin, and my dearer lord? +Then, dreadful trumpet, sound the general doom! +For who is living, if those two are gone? + +Nurse +Tybalt is gone, and Romeo banished; +Romeo that kill'd him, he is banished. + +JULIET +O God! did Romeo's hand shed Tybalt's blood? + +Nurse +It did, it did; alas the day, it did! + +JULIET +O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! +Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? +Beautiful tyrant! fiend angelical! +Dove-feather'd raven! wolvish-ravening lamb! +Despised substance of divinest show! +Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st, +A damned saint, an honourable villain! +O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell, +When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiend +In moral paradise of such sweet flesh? +Was ever book containing such vile matter +So fairly bound? O that deceit should dwell +In such a gorgeous palace! + +Nurse +There's no trust, +No faith, no honesty in men; all perjured, +All forsworn, all naught, all dissemblers. +Ah, where's my man? give me some aqua vitae: +These griefs, these woes, these sorrows make me old. +Shame come to Romeo! + +JULIET +Blister'd be thy tongue +For such a wish! he was not born to shame: +Upon his brow shame is ashamed to sit; +For 'tis a throne where honour may be crown'd +Sole monarch of the universal earth. +O, what a beast was I to chide at him! + +Nurse +Will you speak well of him that kill'd your cousin? + +JULIET +Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband? +Ah, poor my lord, what tongue shall smooth thy name, +When I, thy three-hours wife, have mangled it? +But, wherefore, villain, didst thou kill my cousin? +That villain cousin would have kill'd my husband: +Back, foolish tears, back to your native spring; +Your tributary drops belong to woe, +Which you, mistaking, offer up to joy. +My husband lives, that Tybalt would have slain; +And Tybalt's dead, that would have slain my husband: +All this is comfort; wherefore weep I then? +Some word there was, worser than Tybalt's death, +That murder'd me: I would forget it fain; +But, O, it presses to my memory, +Like damned guilty deeds to sinners' minds: +'Tybalt is dead, and Romeo--banished;' +That 'banished,' that one word 'banished,' +Hath slain ten thousand Tybalts. Tybalt's death +Was woe enough, if it had ended there: +Or, if sour woe delights in fellowship +And needly will be rank'd with other griefs, +Why follow'd not, when she said 'Tybalt's dead,' +Thy father, or thy mother, nay, or both, +Which modern lamentations might have moved? +But with a rear-ward following Tybalt's death, +'Romeo is banished,' to speak that word, +Is father, mother, Tybalt, Romeo, Juliet, +All slain, all dead. 'Romeo is banished!' +There is no end, no limit, measure, bound, +In that word's death; no words can that woe sound. +Where is my father, and my mother, nurse? + +Nurse +Weeping and wailing over Tybalt's corse: +Will you go to them? I will bring you thither. + +JULIET +Wash they his wounds with tears: mine shall be spent, +When theirs are dry, for Romeo's banishment. +Take up those cords: poor ropes, you are beguiled, +Both you and I; for Romeo is exiled: +He made you for a highway to my bed; +But I, a maid, die maiden-widowed. +Come, cords, come, nurse; I'll to my wedding-bed; +And death, not Romeo, take my maidenhead! + +Nurse +Hie to your chamber: I'll find Romeo +To comfort you: I wot well where he is. +Hark ye, your Romeo will be here at night: +I'll to him; he is hid at Laurence' cell. + +JULIET +O, find him! give this ring to my true knight, +And bid him come to take his last farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo, come forth; come forth, thou fearful man: +Affliction is enamour'd of thy parts, +And thou art wedded to calamity. + +Enter ROMEO + +ROMEO +Father, what news? what is the prince's doom? +What sorrow craves acquaintance at my hand, +That I yet know not? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Too familiar +Is my dear son with such sour company: +I bring thee tidings of the prince's doom. + +ROMEO +What less than dooms-day is the prince's doom? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +A gentler judgment vanish'd from his lips, +Not body's death, but body's banishment. + +ROMEO +Ha, banishment! be merciful, say 'death;' +For exile hath more terror in his look, +Much more than death: do not say 'banishment.' + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hence from Verona art thou banished: +Be patient, for the world is broad and wide. + +ROMEO +There is no world without Verona walls, +But purgatory, torture, hell itself. +Hence-banished is banish'd from the world, +And world's exile is death: then banished, +Is death mis-term'd: calling death banishment, +Thou cutt'st my head off with a golden axe, +And smilest upon the stroke that murders me. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O deadly sin! O rude unthankfulness! +Thy fault our law calls death; but the kind prince, +Taking thy part, hath rush'd aside the law, +And turn'd that black word death to banishment: +This is dear mercy, and thou seest it not. + +ROMEO +'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here, +Where Juliet lives; and every cat and dog +And little mouse, every unworthy thing, +Live here in heaven and may look on her; +But Romeo may not: more validity, +More honourable state, more courtship lives +In carrion-flies than Romeo: they my seize +On the white wonder of dear Juliet's hand +And steal immortal blessing from her lips, +Who even in pure and vestal modesty, +Still blush, as thinking their own kisses sin; +But Romeo may not; he is banished: +Flies may do this, but I from this must fly: +They are free men, but I am banished. +And say'st thou yet that exile is not death? +Hadst thou no poison mix'd, no sharp-ground knife, +No sudden mean of death, though ne'er so mean, +But 'banished' to kill me?--'banished'? +O friar, the damned use that word in hell; +Howlings attend it: how hast thou the heart, +Being a divine, a ghostly confessor, +A sin-absolver, and my friend profess'd, +To mangle me with that word 'banished'? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Thou fond mad man, hear me but speak a word. + +ROMEO +O, thou wilt speak again of banishment. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I'll give thee armour to keep off that word: +Adversity's sweet milk, philosophy, +To comfort thee, though thou art banished. + +ROMEO +Yet 'banished'? Hang up philosophy! +Unless philosophy can make a Juliet, +Displant a town, reverse a prince's doom, +It helps not, it prevails not: talk no more. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +O, then I see that madmen have no ears. + +ROMEO +How should they, when that wise men have no eyes? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Let me dispute with thee of thy estate. + +ROMEO +Thou canst not speak of that thou dost not feel: +Wert thou as young as I, Juliet thy love, +An hour but married, Tybalt murdered, +Doting like me and like me banished, +Then mightst thou speak, then mightst thou tear thy hair, +And fall upon the ground, as I do now, +Taking the measure of an unmade grave. + +Knocking within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Arise; one knocks; good Romeo, hide thyself. + +ROMEO +Not I; unless the breath of heartsick groans, +Mist-like, infold me from the search of eyes. + +Knocking + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hark, how they knock! Who's there? Romeo, arise; +Thou wilt be taken. Stay awhile! Stand up; + +Knocking + +Run to my study. By and by! God's will, +What simpleness is this! I come, I come! + +Knocking + +Who knocks so hard? whence come you? what's your will? + +Nurse +[Within] Let me come in, and you shall know +my errand; +I come from Lady Juliet. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Welcome, then. + +Enter Nurse + +Nurse +O holy friar, O, tell me, holy friar, +Where is my lady's lord, where's Romeo? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +There on the ground, with his own tears made drunk. + +Nurse +O, he is even in my mistress' case, +Just in her case! O woful sympathy! +Piteous predicament! Even so lies she, +Blubbering and weeping, weeping and blubbering. +Stand up, stand up; stand, and you be a man: +For Juliet's sake, for her sake, rise and stand; +Why should you fall into so deep an O? + +ROMEO +Nurse! + +Nurse +Ah sir! ah sir! Well, death's the end of all. + +ROMEO +Spakest thou of Juliet? how is it with her? +Doth she not think me an old murderer, +Now I have stain'd the childhood of our joy +With blood removed but little from her own? +Where is she? and how doth she? and what says +My conceal'd lady to our cancell'd love? + +Nurse +O, she says nothing, sir, but weeps and weeps; +And now falls on her bed; and then starts up, +And Tybalt calls; and then on Romeo cries, +And then down falls again. + +ROMEO +As if that name, +Shot from the deadly level of a gun, +Did murder her; as that name's cursed hand +Murder'd her kinsman. O, tell me, friar, tell me, +In what vile part of this anatomy +Doth my name lodge? tell me, that I may sack +The hateful mansion. + +Drawing his sword + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold thy desperate hand: +Art thou a man? thy form cries out thou art: +Thy tears are womanish; thy wild acts denote +The unreasonable fury of a beast: +Unseemly woman in a seeming man! +Or ill-beseeming beast in seeming both! +Thou hast amazed me: by my holy order, +I thought thy disposition better temper'd. +Hast thou slain Tybalt? wilt thou slay thyself? +And stay thy lady too that lives in thee, +By doing damned hate upon thyself? +Why rail'st thou on thy birth, the heaven, and earth? +Since birth, and heaven, and earth, all three do meet +In thee at once; which thou at once wouldst lose. +Fie, fie, thou shamest thy shape, thy love, thy wit; +Which, like a usurer, abound'st in all, +And usest none in that true use indeed +Which should bedeck thy shape, thy love, thy wit: +Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, +Digressing from the valour of a man; +Thy dear love sworn but hollow perjury, +Killing that love which thou hast vow'd to cherish; +Thy wit, that ornament to shape and love, +Misshapen in the conduct of them both, +Like powder in a skitless soldier's flask, +Is set afire by thine own ignorance, +And thou dismember'd with thine own defence. +What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive, +For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead; +There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee, +But thou slew'st Tybalt; there are thou happy too: +The law that threaten'd death becomes thy friend +And turns it to exile; there art thou happy: +A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back; +Happiness courts thee in her best array; +But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench, +Thou pout'st upon thy fortune and thy love: +Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable. +Go, get thee to thy love, as was decreed, +Ascend her chamber, hence and comfort her: +But look thou stay not till the watch be set, +For then thou canst not pass to Mantua; +Where thou shalt live, till we can find a time +To blaze your marriage, reconcile your friends, +Beg pardon of the prince, and call thee back +With twenty hundred thousand times more joy +Than thou went'st forth in lamentation. +Go before, nurse: commend me to thy lady; +And bid her hasten all the house to bed, +Which heavy sorrow makes them apt unto: +Romeo is coming. + +Nurse +O Lord, I could have stay'd here all the night +To hear good counsel: O, what learning is! +My lord, I'll tell my lady you will come. + +ROMEO +Do so, and bid my sweet prepare to chide. + +Nurse +Here, sir, a ring she bid me give you, sir: +Hie you, make haste, for it grows very late. + +Exit + +ROMEO +How well my comfort is revived by this! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go hence; good night; and here stands all your state: +Either be gone before the watch be set, +Or by the break of day disguised from hence: +Sojourn in Mantua; I'll find out your man, +And he shall signify from time to time +Every good hap to you that chances here: +Give me thy hand; 'tis late: farewell; good night. + +ROMEO +But that a joy past joy calls out on me, +It were a grief, so brief to part with thee: Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A room in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and PARIS +CAPULET +Things have fall'n out, sir, so unluckily, +That we have had no time to move our daughter: +Look you, she loved her kinsman Tybalt dearly, +And so did I:--Well, we were born to die. +'Tis very late, she'll not come down to-night: +I promise you, but for your company, +I would have been a-bed an hour ago. + +PARIS +These times of woe afford no time to woo. +Madam, good night: commend me to your daughter. + +LADY CAPULET +I will, and know her mind early to-morrow; +To-night she is mew'd up to her heaviness. + +CAPULET +Sir Paris, I will make a desperate tender +Of my child's love: I think she will be ruled +In all respects by me; nay, more, I doubt it not. +Wife, go you to her ere you go to bed; +Acquaint her here of my son Paris' love; +And bid her, mark you me, on Wednesday next-- +But, soft! what day is this? + +PARIS +Monday, my lord, + +CAPULET +Monday! ha, ha! Well, Wednesday is too soon, +O' Thursday let it be: o' Thursday, tell her, +She shall be married to this noble earl. +Will you be ready? do you like this haste? +We'll keep no great ado,--a friend or two; +For, hark you, Tybalt being slain so late, +It may be thought we held him carelessly, +Being our kinsman, if we revel much: +Therefore we'll have some half a dozen friends, +And there an end. But what say you to Thursday? + +PARIS +My lord, I would that Thursday were to-morrow. + +CAPULET +Well get you gone: o' Thursday be it, then. +Go you to Juliet ere you go to bed, +Prepare her, wife, against this wedding-day. +Farewell, my lord. Light to my chamber, ho! +Afore me! it is so very very late, +That we may call it early by and by. +Good night. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Capulet's orchard. + +Enter ROMEO and JULIET above, at the window +JULIET +Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day: +It was the nightingale, and not the lark, +That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear; +Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate-tree: +Believe me, love, it was the nightingale. + +ROMEO +It was the lark, the herald of the morn, +No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks +Do lace the severing clouds in yonder east: +Night's candles are burnt out, and jocund day +Stands tiptoe on the misty mountain tops. +I must be gone and live, or stay and die. + +JULIET +Yon light is not day-light, I know it, I: +It is some meteor that the sun exhales, +To be to thee this night a torch-bearer, +And light thee on thy way to Mantua: +Therefore stay yet; thou need'st not to be gone. + +ROMEO +Let me be ta'en, let me be put to death; +I am content, so thou wilt have it so. +I'll say yon grey is not the morning's eye, +'Tis but the pale reflex of Cynthia's brow; +Nor that is not the lark, whose notes do beat +The vaulty heaven so high above our heads: +I have more care to stay than will to go: +Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so. +How is't, my soul? let's talk; it is not day. + +JULIET +It is, it is: hie hence, be gone, away! +It is the lark that sings so out of tune, +Straining harsh discords and unpleasing sharps. +Some say the lark makes sweet division; +This doth not so, for she divideth us: +Some say the lark and loathed toad change eyes, +O, now I would they had changed voices too! +Since arm from arm that voice doth us affray, +Hunting thee hence with hunt's-up to the day, +O, now be gone; more light and light it grows. + +ROMEO +More light and light; more dark and dark our woes! + +Enter Nurse, to the chamber + +Nurse +Madam! + +JULIET +Nurse? + +Nurse +Your lady mother is coming to your chamber: +The day is broke; be wary, look about. + +Exit + +JULIET +Then, window, let day in, and let life out. + +ROMEO +Farewell, farewell! one kiss, and I'll descend. + +He goeth down + +JULIET +Art thou gone so? love, lord, ay, husband, friend! +I must hear from thee every day in the hour, +For in a minute there are many days: +O, by this count I shall be much in years +Ere I again behold my Romeo! + +ROMEO +Farewell! +I will omit no opportunity +That may convey my greetings, love, to thee. + +JULIET +O think'st thou we shall ever meet again? + +ROMEO +I doubt it not; and all these woes shall serve +For sweet discourses in our time to come. + +JULIET +O God, I have an ill-divining soul! +Methinks I see thee, now thou art below, +As one dead in the bottom of a tomb: +Either my eyesight fails, or thou look'st pale. + +ROMEO +And trust me, love, in my eye so do you: +Dry sorrow drinks our blood. Adieu, adieu! + +Exit + +JULIET +O fortune, fortune! all men call thee fickle: +If thou art fickle, what dost thou with him. +That is renown'd for faith? Be fickle, fortune; +For then, I hope, thou wilt not keep him long, +But send him back. + +LADY CAPULET +[Within] Ho, daughter! are you up? + +JULIET +Who is't that calls? is it my lady mother? +Is she not down so late, or up so early? +What unaccustom'd cause procures her hither? + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +Why, how now, Juliet! + +JULIET +Madam, I am not well. + +LADY CAPULET +Evermore weeping for your cousin's death? +What, wilt thou wash him from his grave with tears? +An if thou couldst, thou couldst not make him live; +Therefore, have done: some grief shows much of love; +But much of grief shows still some want of wit. + +JULIET +Yet let me weep for such a feeling loss. + +LADY CAPULET +So shall you feel the loss, but not the friend +Which you weep for. + +JULIET +Feeling so the loss, +Cannot choose but ever weep the friend. + +LADY CAPULET +Well, girl, thou weep'st not so much for his death, +As that the villain lives which slaughter'd him. + +JULIET +What villain madam? + +LADY CAPULET +That same villain, Romeo. + +JULIET +[Aside] Villain and he be many miles asunder.-- +God Pardon him! I do, with all my heart; +And yet no man like he doth grieve my heart. + +LADY CAPULET +That is, because the traitor murderer lives. + +JULIET +Ay, madam, from the reach of these my hands: +Would none but I might venge my cousin's death! + +LADY CAPULET +We will have vengeance for it, fear thou not: +Then weep no more. I'll send to one in Mantua, +Where that same banish'd runagate doth live, +Shall give him such an unaccustom'd dram, +That he shall soon keep Tybalt company: +And then, I hope, thou wilt be satisfied. + +JULIET +Indeed, I never shall be satisfied +With Romeo, till I behold him--dead-- +Is my poor heart for a kinsman vex'd. +Madam, if you could find out but a man +To bear a poison, I would temper it; +That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof, +Soon sleep in quiet. O, how my heart abhors +To hear him named, and cannot come to him. +To wreak the love I bore my cousin +Upon his body that slaughter'd him! + +LADY CAPULET +Find thou the means, and I'll find such a man. +But now I'll tell thee joyful tidings, girl. + +JULIET +And joy comes well in such a needy time: +What are they, I beseech your ladyship? + +LADY CAPULET +Well, well, thou hast a careful father, child; +One who, to put thee from thy heaviness, +Hath sorted out a sudden day of joy, +That thou expect'st not nor I look'd not for. + +JULIET +Madam, in happy time, what day is that? + +LADY CAPULET +Marry, my child, early next Thursday morn, +The gallant, young and noble gentleman, +The County Paris, at Saint Peter's Church, +Shall happily make thee there a joyful bride. + +JULIET +Now, by Saint Peter's Church and Peter too, +He shall not make me there a joyful bride. +I wonder at this haste; that I must wed +Ere he, that should be husband, comes to woo. +I pray you, tell my lord and father, madam, +I will not marry yet; and, when I do, I swear, +It shall be Romeo, whom you know I hate, +Rather than Paris. These are news indeed! + +LADY CAPULET +Here comes your father; tell him so yourself, +And see how he will take it at your hands. + +Enter CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +When the sun sets, the air doth drizzle dew; +But for the sunset of my brother's son +It rains downright. +How now! a conduit, girl? what, still in tears? +Evermore showering? In one little body +Thou counterfeit'st a bark, a sea, a wind; +For still thy eyes, which I may call the sea, +Do ebb and flow with tears; the bark thy body is, +Sailing in this salt flood; the winds, thy sighs; +Who, raging with thy tears, and they with them, +Without a sudden calm, will overset +Thy tempest-tossed body. How now, wife! +Have you deliver'd to her our decree? + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, sir; but she will none, she gives you thanks. +I would the fool were married to her grave! + +CAPULET +Soft! take me with you, take me with you, wife. +How! will she none? doth she not give us thanks? +Is she not proud? doth she not count her blest, +Unworthy as she is, that we have wrought +So worthy a gentleman to be her bridegroom? + +JULIET +Not proud, you have; but thankful, that you have: +Proud can I never be of what I hate; +But thankful even for hate, that is meant love. + +CAPULET +How now, how now, chop-logic! What is this? +'Proud,' and 'I thank you,' and 'I thank you not;' +And yet 'not proud,' mistress minion, you, +Thank me no thankings, nor, proud me no prouds, +But fettle your fine joints 'gainst Thursday next, +To go with Paris to Saint Peter's Church, +Or I will drag thee on a hurdle thither. +Out, you green-sickness carrion! out, you baggage! +You tallow-face! + +LADY CAPULET +Fie, fie! what, are you mad? + +JULIET +Good father, I beseech you on my knees, +Hear me with patience but to speak a word. + +CAPULET +Hang thee, young baggage! disobedient wretch! +I tell thee what: get thee to church o' Thursday, +Or never after look me in the face: +Speak not, reply not, do not answer me; +My fingers itch. Wife, we scarce thought us blest +That God had lent us but this only child; +But now I see this one is one too much, +And that we have a curse in having her: +Out on her, hilding! + +Nurse +God in heaven bless her! +You are to blame, my lord, to rate her so. + +CAPULET +And why, my lady wisdom? hold your tongue, +Good prudence; smatter with your gossips, go. + +Nurse +I speak no treason. + +CAPULET +O, God ye god-den. + +Nurse +May not one speak? + +CAPULET +Peace, you mumbling fool! +Utter your gravity o'er a gossip's bowl; +For here we need it not. + +LADY CAPULET +You are too hot. + +CAPULET +God's bread! it makes me mad: +Day, night, hour, tide, time, work, play, +Alone, in company, still my care hath been +To have her match'd: and having now provided +A gentleman of noble parentage, +Of fair demesnes, youthful, and nobly train'd, +Stuff'd, as they say, with honourable parts, +Proportion'd as one's thought would wish a man; +And then to have a wretched puling fool, +A whining mammet, in her fortune's tender, +To answer 'I'll not wed; I cannot love, +I am too young; I pray you, pardon me.' +But, as you will not wed, I'll pardon you: +Graze where you will you shall not house with me: +Look to't, think on't, I do not use to jest. +Thursday is near; lay hand on heart, advise: +An you be mine, I'll give you to my friend; +And you be not, hang, beg, starve, die in +the streets, +For, by my soul, I'll ne'er acknowledge thee, +Nor what is mine shall never do thee good: +Trust to't, bethink you; I'll not be forsworn. + +Exit + +JULIET +Is there no pity sitting in the clouds, +That sees into the bottom of my grief? +O, sweet my mother, cast me not away! +Delay this marriage for a month, a week; +Or, if you do not, make the bridal bed +In that dim monument where Tybalt lies. + +LADY CAPULET +Talk not to me, for I'll not speak a word: +Do as thou wilt, for I have done with thee. + +Exit + +JULIET +O God!--O nurse, how shall this be prevented? +My husband is on earth, my faith in heaven; +How shall that faith return again to earth, +Unless that husband send it me from heaven +By leaving earth? comfort me, counsel me. +Alack, alack, that heaven should practise stratagems +Upon so soft a subject as myself! +What say'st thou? hast thou not a word of joy? +Some comfort, nurse. + +Nurse +Faith, here it is. +Romeo is banish'd; and all the world to nothing, +That he dares ne'er come back to challenge you; +Or, if he do, it needs must be by stealth. +Then, since the case so stands as now it doth, +I think it best you married with the county. +O, he's a lovely gentleman! +Romeo's a dishclout to him: an eagle, madam, +Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye +As Paris hath. Beshrew my very heart, +I think you are happy in this second match, +For it excels your first: or if it did not, +Your first is dead; or 'twere as good he were, +As living here and you no use of him. + +JULIET +Speakest thou from thy heart? + +Nurse +And from my soul too; +Or else beshrew them both. + +JULIET +Amen! + +Nurse +What? + +JULIET +Well, thou hast comforted me marvellous much. +Go in: and tell my lady I am gone, +Having displeased my father, to Laurence' cell, +To make confession and to be absolved. + +Nurse +Marry, I will; and this is wisely done. + +Exit + +JULIET +Ancient damnation! O most wicked fiend! +Is it more sin to wish me thus forsworn, +Or to dispraise my lord with that same tongue +Which she hath praised him with above compare +So many thousand times? Go, counsellor; +Thou and my bosom henceforth shall be twain. +I'll to the friar, to know his remedy: +If all else fail, myself have power to die. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS +FRIAR LAURENCE +On Thursday, sir? the time is very short. + +PARIS +My father Capulet will have it so; +And I am nothing slow to slack his haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +You say you do not know the lady's mind: +Uneven is the course, I like it not. + +PARIS +Immoderately she weeps for Tybalt's death, +And therefore have I little talk'd of love; +For Venus smiles not in a house of tears. +Now, sir, her father counts it dangerous +That she doth give her sorrow so much sway, +And in his wisdom hastes our marriage, +To stop the inundation of her tears; +Which, too much minded by herself alone, +May be put from her by society: +Now do you know the reason of this haste. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +[Aside] I would I knew not why it should be slow'd. +Look, sir, here comes the lady towards my cell. + +Enter JULIET + +PARIS +Happily met, my lady and my wife! + +JULIET +That may be, sir, when I may be a wife. + +PARIS +That may be must be, love, on Thursday next. + +JULIET +What must be shall be. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +That's a certain text. + +PARIS +Come you to make confession to this father? + +JULIET +To answer that, I should confess to you. + +PARIS +Do not deny to him that you love me. + +JULIET +I will confess to you that I love him. + +PARIS +So will ye, I am sure, that you love me. + +JULIET +If I do so, it will be of more price, +Being spoke behind your back, than to your face. + +PARIS +Poor soul, thy face is much abused with tears. + +JULIET +The tears have got small victory by that; +For it was bad enough before their spite. + +PARIS +Thou wrong'st it, more than tears, with that report. + +JULIET +That is no slander, sir, which is a truth; +And what I spake, I spake it to my face. + +PARIS +Thy face is mine, and thou hast slander'd it. + +JULIET +It may be so, for it is not mine own. +Are you at leisure, holy father, now; +Or shall I come to you at evening mass? + +FRIAR LAURENCE +My leisure serves me, pensive daughter, now. +My lord, we must entreat the time alone. + +PARIS +God shield I should disturb devotion! +Juliet, on Thursday early will I rouse ye: +Till then, adieu; and keep this holy kiss. + +Exit + +JULIET +O shut the door! and when thou hast done so, +Come weep with me; past hope, past cure, past help! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Ah, Juliet, I already know thy grief; +It strains me past the compass of my wits: +I hear thou must, and nothing may prorogue it, +On Thursday next be married to this county. + +JULIET +Tell me not, friar, that thou hear'st of this, +Unless thou tell me how I may prevent it: +If, in thy wisdom, thou canst give no help, +Do thou but call my resolution wise, +And with this knife I'll help it presently. +God join'd my heart and Romeo's, thou our hands; +And ere this hand, by thee to Romeo seal'd, +Shall be the label to another deed, +Or my true heart with treacherous revolt +Turn to another, this shall slay them both: +Therefore, out of thy long-experienced time, +Give me some present counsel, or, behold, +'Twixt my extremes and me this bloody knife +Shall play the umpire, arbitrating that +Which the commission of thy years and art +Could to no issue of true honour bring. +Be not so long to speak; I long to die, +If what thou speak'st speak not of remedy. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, daughter: I do spy a kind of hope, +Which craves as desperate an execution. +As that is desperate which we would prevent. +If, rather than to marry County Paris, +Thou hast the strength of will to slay thyself, +Then is it likely thou wilt undertake +A thing like death to chide away this shame, +That copest with death himself to scape from it: +And, if thou darest, I'll give thee remedy. + +JULIET +O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris, +From off the battlements of yonder tower; +Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurk +Where serpents are; chain me with roaring bears; +Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house, +O'er-cover'd quite with dead men's rattling bones, +With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls; +Or bid me go into a new-made grave +And hide me with a dead man in his shroud; +Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; +And I will do it without fear or doubt, +To live an unstain'd wife to my sweet love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold, then; go home, be merry, give consent +To marry Paris: Wednesday is to-morrow: +To-morrow night look that thou lie alone; +Let not thy nurse lie with thee in thy chamber: +Take thou this vial, being then in bed, +And this distilled liquor drink thou off; +When presently through all thy veins shall run +A cold and drowsy humour, for no pulse +Shall keep his native progress, but surcease: +No warmth, no breath, shall testify thou livest; +The roses in thy lips and cheeks shall fade +To paly ashes, thy eyes' windows fall, +Like death, when he shuts up the day of life; +Each part, deprived of supple government, +Shall, stiff and stark and cold, appear like death: +And in this borrow'd likeness of shrunk death +Thou shalt continue two and forty hours, +And then awake as from a pleasant sleep. +Now, when the bridegroom in the morning comes +To rouse thee from thy bed, there art thou dead: +Then, as the manner of our country is, +In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier +Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault +Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie. +In the mean time, against thou shalt awake, +Shall Romeo by my letters know our drift, +And hither shall he come: and he and I +Will watch thy waking, and that very night +Shall Romeo bear thee hence to Mantua. +And this shall free thee from this present shame; +If no inconstant toy, nor womanish fear, +Abate thy valour in the acting it. + +JULIET +Give me, give me! O, tell not me of fear! + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Hold; get you gone, be strong and prosperous +In this resolve: I'll send a friar with speed +To Mantua, with my letters to thy lord. + +JULIET +Love give me strength! and strength shall help afford. +Farewell, dear father! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, Nurse, and two Servingmen +CAPULET +So many guests invite as here are writ. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, go hire me twenty cunning cooks. + +Second Servant +You shall have none ill, sir; for I'll try if they +can lick their fingers. + +CAPULET +How canst thou try them so? + +Second Servant +Marry, sir, 'tis an ill cook that cannot lick his +own fingers: therefore he that cannot lick his +fingers goes not with me. + +CAPULET +Go, be gone. + +Exit Second Servant + +We shall be much unfurnished for this time. +What, is my daughter gone to Friar Laurence? + +Nurse +Ay, forsooth. + +CAPULET +Well, he may chance to do some good on her: +A peevish self-will'd harlotry it is. + +Nurse +See where she comes from shrift with merry look. + +Enter JULIET + +CAPULET +How now, my headstrong! where have you been gadding? + +JULIET +Where I have learn'd me to repent the sin +Of disobedient opposition +To you and your behests, and am enjoin'd +By holy Laurence to fall prostrate here, +And beg your pardon: pardon, I beseech you! +Henceforward I am ever ruled by you. + +CAPULET +Send for the county; go tell him of this: +I'll have this knot knit up to-morrow morning. + +JULIET +I met the youthful lord at Laurence' cell; +And gave him what becomed love I might, +Not step o'er the bounds of modesty. + +CAPULET +Why, I am glad on't; this is well: stand up: +This is as't should be. Let me see the county; +Ay, marry, go, I say, and fetch him hither. +Now, afore God! this reverend holy friar, +Our whole city is much bound to him. + +JULIET +Nurse, will you go with me into my closet, +To help me sort such needful ornaments +As you think fit to furnish me to-morrow? + +LADY CAPULET +No, not till Thursday; there is time enough. + +CAPULET +Go, nurse, go with her: we'll to church to-morrow. + +Exeunt JULIET and Nurse + +LADY CAPULET +We shall be short in our provision: +'Tis now near night. + +CAPULET +Tush, I will stir about, +And all things shall be well, I warrant thee, wife: +Go thou to Juliet, help to deck up her; +I'll not to bed to-night; let me alone; +I'll play the housewife for this once. What, ho! +They are all forth. Well, I will walk myself +To County Paris, to prepare him up +Against to-morrow: my heart is wondrous light, +Since this same wayward girl is so reclaim'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter JULIET and Nurse +JULIET +Ay, those attires are best: but, gentle nurse, +I pray thee, leave me to my self to-night, +For I have need of many orisons +To move the heavens to smile upon my state, +Which, well thou know'st, is cross, and full of sin. + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What, are you busy, ho? need you my help? + +JULIET +No, madam; we have cull'd such necessaries +As are behoveful for our state to-morrow: +So please you, let me now be left alone, +And let the nurse this night sit up with you; +For, I am sure, you have your hands full all, +In this so sudden business. + +LADY CAPULET +Good night: +Get thee to bed, and rest; for thou hast need. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +JULIET +Farewell! God knows when we shall meet again. +I have a faint cold fear thrills through my veins, +That almost freezes up the heat of life: +I'll call them back again to comfort me: +Nurse! What should she do here? +My dismal scene I needs must act alone. +Come, vial. +What if this mixture do not work at all? +Shall I be married then to-morrow morning? +No, no: this shall forbid it: lie thou there. + +Laying down her dagger + +What if it be a poison, which the friar +Subtly hath minister'd to have me dead, +Lest in this marriage he should be dishonour'd, +Because he married me before to Romeo? +I fear it is: and yet, methinks, it should not, +For he hath still been tried a holy man. +How if, when I am laid into the tomb, +I wake before the time that Romeo +Come to redeem me? there's a fearful point! +Shall I not, then, be stifled in the vault, +To whose foul mouth no healthsome air breathes in, +And there die strangled ere my Romeo comes? +Or, if I live, is it not very like, +The horrible conceit of death and night, +Together with the terror of the place,-- +As in a vault, an ancient receptacle, +Where, for these many hundred years, the bones +Of all my buried ancestors are packed: +Where bloody Tybalt, yet but green in earth, +Lies festering in his shroud; where, as they say, +At some hours in the night spirits resort;-- +Alack, alack, is it not like that I, +So early waking, what with loathsome smells, +And shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, +That living mortals, hearing them, run mad:-- +O, if I wake, shall I not be distraught, +Environed with all these hideous fears? +And madly play with my forefather's joints? +And pluck the mangled Tybalt from his shroud? +And, in this rage, with some great kinsman's bone, +As with a club, dash out my desperate brains? +O, look! methinks I see my cousin's ghost +Seeking out Romeo, that did spit his body +Upon a rapier's point: stay, Tybalt, stay! +Romeo, I come! this do I drink to thee. + +She falls upon her bed, within the curtains + +SCENE IV. Hall in Capulet's house. + +Enter LADY CAPULET and Nurse +LADY CAPULET +Hold, take these keys, and fetch more spices, nurse. + +Nurse +They call for dates and quinces in the pastry. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +Come, stir, stir, stir! the second cock hath crow'd, +The curfew-bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock: +Look to the baked meats, good Angelica: +Spare not for the cost. + +Nurse +Go, you cot-quean, go, +Get you to bed; faith, You'll be sick to-morrow +For this night's watching. + +CAPULET +No, not a whit: what! I have watch'd ere now +All night for lesser cause, and ne'er been sick. + +LADY CAPULET +Ay, you have been a mouse-hunt in your time; +But I will watch you from such watching now. + +Exeunt LADY CAPULET and Nurse + +CAPULET +A jealous hood, a jealous hood! + +Enter three or four Servingmen, with spits, logs, and baskets + +Now, fellow, +What's there? + +First Servant +Things for the cook, sir; but I know not what. + +CAPULET +Make haste, make haste. + +Exit First Servant + +Sirrah, fetch drier logs: +Call Peter, he will show thee where they are. + +Second Servant +I have a head, sir, that will find out logs, +And never trouble Peter for the matter. + +Exit + +CAPULET +Mass, and well said; a merry whoreson, ha! +Thou shalt be logger-head. Good faith, 'tis day: +The county will be here with music straight, +For so he said he would: I hear him near. + +Music within + +Nurse! Wife! What, ho! What, nurse, I say! + +Re-enter Nurse + +Go waken Juliet, go and trim her up; +I'll go and chat with Paris: hie, make haste, +Make haste; the bridegroom he is come already: +Make haste, I say. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Juliet's chamber. + +Enter Nurse +Nurse +Mistress! what, mistress! Juliet! fast, I warrant her, she: +Why, lamb! why, lady! fie, you slug-a-bed! +Why, love, I say! madam! sweet-heart! why, bride! +What, not a word? you take your pennyworths now; +Sleep for a week; for the next night, I warrant, +The County Paris hath set up his rest, +That you shall rest but little. God forgive me, +Marry, and amen, how sound is she asleep! +I must needs wake her. Madam, madam, madam! +Ay, let the county take you in your bed; +He'll fright you up, i' faith. Will it not be? + +Undraws the curtains + +What, dress'd! and in your clothes! and down again! +I must needs wake you; Lady! lady! lady! +Alas, alas! Help, help! my lady's dead! +O, well-a-day, that ever I was born! +Some aqua vitae, ho! My lord! my lady! + +Enter LADY CAPULET + +LADY CAPULET +What noise is here? + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +What is the matter? + +Nurse +Look, look! O heavy day! + +LADY CAPULET +O me, O me! My child, my only life, +Revive, look up, or I will die with thee! +Help, help! Call help. + +Enter CAPULET + +CAPULET +For shame, bring Juliet forth; her lord is come. + +Nurse +She's dead, deceased, she's dead; alack the day! + +LADY CAPULET +Alack the day, she's dead, she's dead, she's dead! + +CAPULET +Ha! let me see her: out, alas! she's cold: +Her blood is settled, and her joints are stiff; +Life and these lips have long been separated: +Death lies on her like an untimely frost +Upon the sweetest flower of all the field. + +Nurse +O lamentable day! + +LADY CAPULET +O woful time! + +CAPULET +Death, that hath ta'en her hence to make me wail, +Ties up my tongue, and will not let me speak. + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE and PARIS, with Musicians + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Come, is the bride ready to go to church? + +CAPULET +Ready to go, but never to return. +O son! the night before thy wedding-day +Hath Death lain with thy wife. There she lies, +Flower as she was, deflowered by him. +Death is my son-in-law, Death is my heir; +My daughter he hath wedded: I will die, +And leave him all; life, living, all is Death's. + +PARIS +Have I thought long to see this morning's face, +And doth it give me such a sight as this? + +LADY CAPULET +Accursed, unhappy, wretched, hateful day! +Most miserable hour that e'er time saw +In lasting labour of his pilgrimage! +But one, poor one, one poor and loving child, +But one thing to rejoice and solace in, +And cruel death hath catch'd it from my sight! + +Nurse +O woe! O woful, woful, woful day! +Most lamentable day, most woful day, +That ever, ever, I did yet behold! +O day! O day! O day! O hateful day! +Never was seen so black a day as this: +O woful day, O woful day! + +PARIS +Beguiled, divorced, wronged, spited, slain! +Most detestable death, by thee beguil'd, +By cruel cruel thee quite overthrown! +O love! O life! not life, but love in death! + +CAPULET +Despised, distressed, hated, martyr'd, kill'd! +Uncomfortable time, why camest thou now +To murder, murder our solemnity? +O child! O child! my soul, and not my child! +Dead art thou! Alack! my child is dead; +And with my child my joys are buried. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Peace, ho, for shame! confusion's cure lives not +In these confusions. Heaven and yourself +Had part in this fair maid; now heaven hath all, +And all the better is it for the maid: +Your part in her you could not keep from death, +But heaven keeps his part in eternal life. +The most you sought was her promotion; +For 'twas your heaven she should be advanced: +And weep ye now, seeing she is advanced +Above the clouds, as high as heaven itself? +O, in this love, you love your child so ill, +That you run mad, seeing that she is well: +She's not well married that lives married long; +But she's best married that dies married young. +Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary +On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, +In all her best array bear her to church: +For though fond nature bids us an lament, +Yet nature's tears are reason's merriment. + +CAPULET +All things that we ordained festival, +Turn from their office to black funeral; +Our instruments to melancholy bells, +Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast, +Our solemn hymns to sullen dirges change, +Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse, +And all things change them to the contrary. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Sir, go you in; and, madam, go with him; +And go, Sir Paris; every one prepare +To follow this fair corse unto her grave: +The heavens do lour upon you for some ill; +Move them no more by crossing their high will. + +Exeunt CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, PARIS, and FRIAR LAURENCE + +First Musician +Faith, we may put up our pipes, and be gone. + +Nurse +Honest goodfellows, ah, put up, put up; +For, well you know, this is a pitiful case. + +Exit + +First Musician +Ay, by my troth, the case may be amended. + +Enter PETER + +PETER +Musicians, O, musicians, 'Heart's ease, Heart's +ease:' O, an you will have me live, play 'Heart's ease.' + +First Musician +Why 'Heart's ease?' + +PETER +O, musicians, because my heart itself plays 'My +heart is full of woe:' O, play me some merry dump, +to comfort me. + +First Musician +Not a dump we; 'tis no time to play now. + +PETER +You will not, then? + +First Musician +No. + +PETER +I will then give it you soundly. + +First Musician +What will you give us? + +PETER +No money, on my faith, but the gleek; +I will give you the minstrel. + +First Musician +Then I will give you the serving-creature. + +PETER +Then will I lay the serving-creature's dagger on +your pate. I will carry no crotchets: I'll re you, +I'll fa you; do you note me? + +First Musician +An you re us and fa us, you note us. + +Second Musician +Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit. + +PETER +Then have at you with my wit! I will dry-beat you +with an iron wit, and put up my iron dagger. Answer +me like men: +'When griping grief the heart doth wound, +And doleful dumps the mind oppress, +Then music with her silver sound'-- +why 'silver sound'? why 'music with her silver +sound'? What say you, Simon Catling? + +Musician +Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. + +PETER +Pretty! What say you, Hugh Rebeck? + +Second Musician +I say 'silver sound,' because musicians sound for silver. + +PETER +Pretty too! What say you, James Soundpost? + +Third Musician +Faith, I know not what to say. + +PETER +O, I cry you mercy; you are the singer: I will say +for you. It is 'music with her silver sound,' +because musicians have no gold for sounding: +'Then music with her silver sound +With speedy help doth lend redress.' + +Exit + +First Musician +What a pestilent knave is this same! + +Second Musician +Hang him, Jack! Come, we'll in here; tarry for the +mourners, and stay dinner. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Mantua. A street. + +Enter ROMEO +ROMEO +If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep, +My dreams presage some joyful news at hand: +My bosom's lord sits lightly in his throne; +And all this day an unaccustom'd spirit +Lifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts. +I dreamt my lady came and found me dead-- +Strange dream, that gives a dead man leave +to think!-- +And breathed such life with kisses in my lips, +That I revived, and was an emperor. +Ah me! how sweet is love itself possess'd, +When but love's shadows are so rich in joy! + +Enter BALTHASAR, booted + +News from Verona!--How now, Balthasar! +Dost thou not bring me letters from the friar? +How doth my lady? Is my father well? +How fares my Juliet? that I ask again; +For nothing can be ill, if she be well. + +BALTHASAR +Then she is well, and nothing can be ill: +Her body sleeps in Capel's monument, +And her immortal part with angels lives. +I saw her laid low in her kindred's vault, +And presently took post to tell it you: +O, pardon me for bringing these ill news, +Since you did leave it for my office, sir. + +ROMEO +Is it even so? then I defy you, stars! +Thou know'st my lodging: get me ink and paper, +And hire post-horses; I will hence to-night. + +BALTHASAR +I do beseech you, sir, have patience: +Your looks are pale and wild, and do import +Some misadventure. + +ROMEO +Tush, thou art deceived: +Leave me, and do the thing I bid thee do. +Hast thou no letters to me from the friar? + +BALTHASAR +No, my good lord. + +ROMEO +No matter: get thee gone, +And hire those horses; I'll be with thee straight. + +Exit BALTHASAR + +Well, Juliet, I will lie with thee to-night. +Let's see for means: O mischief, thou art swift +To enter in the thoughts of desperate men! +I do remember an apothecary,-- +And hereabouts he dwells,--which late I noted +In tatter'd weeds, with overwhelming brows, +Culling of simples; meagre were his looks, +Sharp misery had worn him to the bones: +And in his needy shop a tortoise hung, +An alligator stuff'd, and other skins +Of ill-shaped fishes; and about his shelves +A beggarly account of empty boxes, +Green earthen pots, bladders and musty seeds, +Remnants of packthread and old cakes of roses, +Were thinly scatter'd, to make up a show. +Noting this penury, to myself I said +'An if a man did need a poison now, +Whose sale is present death in Mantua, +Here lives a caitiff wretch would sell it him.' +O, this same thought did but forerun my need; +And this same needy man must sell it me. +As I remember, this should be the house. +Being holiday, the beggar's shop is shut. +What, ho! apothecary! + +Enter Apothecary + +Apothecary +Who calls so loud? + +ROMEO +Come hither, man. I see that thou art poor: +Hold, there is forty ducats: let me have +A dram of poison, such soon-speeding gear +As will disperse itself through all the veins +That the life-weary taker may fall dead +And that the trunk may be discharged of breath +As violently as hasty powder fired +Doth hurry from the fatal cannon's womb. + +Apothecary +Such mortal drugs I have; but Mantua's law +Is death to any he that utters them. + +ROMEO +Art thou so bare and full of wretchedness, +And fear'st to die? famine is in thy cheeks, +Need and oppression starveth in thine eyes, +Contempt and beggary hangs upon thy back; +The world is not thy friend nor the world's law; +The world affords no law to make thee rich; +Then be not poor, but break it, and take this. + +Apothecary +My poverty, but not my will, consents. + +ROMEO +I pay thy poverty, and not thy will. + +Apothecary +Put this in any liquid thing you will, +And drink it off; and, if you had the strength +Of twenty men, it would dispatch you straight. + +ROMEO +There is thy gold, worse poison to men's souls, +Doing more murders in this loathsome world, +Than these poor compounds that thou mayst not sell. +I sell thee poison; thou hast sold me none. +Farewell: buy food, and get thyself in flesh. +Come, cordial and not poison, go with me +To Juliet's grave; for there must I use thee. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Friar Laurence's cell. + +Enter FRIAR JOHN +FRIAR JOHN +Holy Franciscan friar! brother, ho! + +Enter FRIAR LAURENCE + +FRIAR LAURENCE +This same should be the voice of Friar John. +Welcome from Mantua: what says Romeo? +Or, if his mind be writ, give me his letter. + +FRIAR JOHN +Going to find a bare-foot brother out +One of our order, to associate me, +Here in this city visiting the sick, +And finding him, the searchers of the town, +Suspecting that we both were in a house +Where the infectious pestilence did reign, +Seal'd up the doors, and would not let us forth; +So that my speed to Mantua there was stay'd. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who bare my letter, then, to Romeo? + +FRIAR JOHN +I could not send it,--here it is again,-- +Nor get a messenger to bring it thee, +So fearful were they of infection. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Unhappy fortune! by my brotherhood, +The letter was not nice but full of charge +Of dear import, and the neglecting it +May do much danger. Friar John, go hence; +Get me an iron crow, and bring it straight +Unto my cell. + +FRIAR JOHN +Brother, I'll go and bring it thee. + +Exit + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Now must I to the monument alone; +Within three hours will fair Juliet wake: +She will beshrew me much that Romeo +Hath had no notice of these accidents; +But I will write again to Mantua, +And keep her at my cell till Romeo come; +Poor living corse, closed in a dead man's tomb! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A churchyard; in it a tomb belonging to the Capulets. + +Enter PARIS, and his Page bearing flowers and a torch +PARIS +Give me thy torch, boy: hence, and stand aloof: +Yet put it out, for I would not be seen. +Under yond yew-trees lay thee all along, +Holding thine ear close to the hollow ground; +So shall no foot upon the churchyard tread, +Being loose, unfirm, with digging up of graves, +But thou shalt hear it: whistle then to me, +As signal that thou hear'st something approach. +Give me those flowers. Do as I bid thee, go. + +PAGE +[Aside] I am almost afraid to stand alone +Here in the churchyard; yet I will adventure. + +Retires + +PARIS +Sweet flower, with flowers thy bridal bed I strew,-- +O woe! thy canopy is dust and stones;-- +Which with sweet water nightly I will dew, +Or, wanting that, with tears distill'd by moans: +The obsequies that I for thee will keep +Nightly shall be to strew thy grave and weep. + +The Page whistles + +The boy gives warning something doth approach. +What cursed foot wanders this way to-night, +To cross my obsequies and true love's rite? +What with a torch! muffle me, night, awhile. + +Retires + +Enter ROMEO and BALTHASAR, with a torch, mattock, & c + +ROMEO +Give me that mattock and the wrenching iron. +Hold, take this letter; early in the morning +See thou deliver it to my lord and father. +Give me the light: upon thy life, I charge thee, +Whate'er thou hear'st or seest, stand all aloof, +And do not interrupt me in my course. +Why I descend into this bed of death, +Is partly to behold my lady's face; +But chiefly to take thence from her dead finger +A precious ring, a ring that I must use +In dear employment: therefore hence, be gone: +But if thou, jealous, dost return to pry +In what I further shall intend to do, +By heaven, I will tear thee joint by joint +And strew this hungry churchyard with thy limbs: +The time and my intents are savage-wild, +More fierce and more inexorable far +Than empty tigers or the roaring sea. + +BALTHASAR +I will be gone, sir, and not trouble you. + +ROMEO +So shalt thou show me friendship. Take thou that: +Live, and be prosperous: and farewell, good fellow. + +BALTHASAR +[Aside] For all this same, I'll hide me hereabout: +His looks I fear, and his intents I doubt. + +Retires + +ROMEO +Thou detestable maw, thou womb of death, +Gorged with the dearest morsel of the earth, +Thus I enforce thy rotten jaws to open, +And, in despite, I'll cram thee with more food! + +Opens the tomb + +PARIS +This is that banish'd haughty Montague, +That murder'd my love's cousin, with which grief, +It is supposed, the fair creature died; +And here is come to do some villanous shame +To the dead bodies: I will apprehend him. + +Comes forward + +Stop thy unhallow'd toil, vile Montague! +Can vengeance be pursued further than death? +Condemned villain, I do apprehend thee: +Obey, and go with me; for thou must die. + +ROMEO +I must indeed; and therefore came I hither. +Good gentle youth, tempt not a desperate man; +Fly hence, and leave me: think upon these gone; +Let them affright thee. I beseech thee, youth, +Put not another sin upon my head, +By urging me to fury: O, be gone! +By heaven, I love thee better than myself; +For I come hither arm'd against myself: +Stay not, be gone; live, and hereafter say, +A madman's mercy bade thee run away. + +PARIS +I do defy thy conjurations, +And apprehend thee for a felon here. + +ROMEO +Wilt thou provoke me? then have at thee, boy! + +They fight + +PAGE +O Lord, they fight! I will go call the watch. + +Exit + +PARIS +O, I am slain! + +Falls + +If thou be merciful, +Open the tomb, lay me with Juliet. + +Dies + +ROMEO +In faith, I will. Let me peruse this face. +Mercutio's kinsman, noble County Paris! +What said my man, when my betossed soul +Did not attend him as we rode? I think +He told me Paris should have married Juliet: +Said he not so? or did I dream it so? +Or am I mad, hearing him talk of Juliet, +To think it was so? O, give me thy hand, +One writ with me in sour misfortune's book! +I'll bury thee in a triumphant grave; +A grave? O no! a lantern, slaughter'd youth, +For here lies Juliet, and her beauty makes +This vault a feasting presence full of light. +Death, lie thou there, by a dead man interr'd. + +Laying PARIS in the tomb + +How oft when men are at the point of death +Have they been merry! which their keepers call +A lightning before death: O, how may I +Call this a lightning? O my love! my wife! +Death, that hath suck'd the honey of thy breath, +Hath had no power yet upon thy beauty: +Thou art not conquer'd; beauty's ensign yet +Is crimson in thy lips and in thy cheeks, +And death's pale flag is not advanced there. +Tybalt, liest thou there in thy bloody sheet? +O, what more favour can I do to thee, +Than with that hand that cut thy youth in twain +To sunder his that was thine enemy? +Forgive me, cousin! Ah, dear Juliet, +Why art thou yet so fair? shall I believe +That unsubstantial death is amorous, +And that the lean abhorred monster keeps +Thee here in dark to be his paramour? +For fear of that, I still will stay with thee; +And never from this palace of dim night +Depart again: here, here will I remain +With worms that are thy chamber-maids; O, here +Will I set up my everlasting rest, +And shake the yoke of inauspicious stars +From this world-wearied flesh. Eyes, look your last! +Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you +The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss +A dateless bargain to engrossing death! +Come, bitter conduct, come, unsavoury guide! +Thou desperate pilot, now at once run on +The dashing rocks thy sea-sick weary bark! +Here's to my love! + +Drinks + +O true apothecary! +Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die. + +Dies + +Enter, at the other end of the churchyard, FRIAR LAURENCE, with a lantern, crow, and spade + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Saint Francis be my speed! how oft to-night +Have my old feet stumbled at graves! Who's there? + +BALTHASAR +Here's one, a friend, and one that knows you well. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Bliss be upon you! Tell me, good my friend, +What torch is yond, that vainly lends his light +To grubs and eyeless skulls? as I discern, +It burneth in the Capel's monument. + +BALTHASAR +It doth so, holy sir; and there's my master, +One that you love. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Who is it? + +BALTHASAR +Romeo. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +How long hath he been there? + +BALTHASAR +Full half an hour. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Go with me to the vault. + +BALTHASAR +I dare not, sir +My master knows not but I am gone hence; +And fearfully did menace me with death, +If I did stay to look on his intents. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Stay, then; I'll go alone. Fear comes upon me: +O, much I fear some ill unlucky thing. + +BALTHASAR +As I did sleep under this yew-tree here, +I dreamt my master and another fought, +And that my master slew him. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +Romeo! + +Advances + +Alack, alack, what blood is this, which stains +The stony entrance of this sepulchre? +What mean these masterless and gory swords +To lie discolour'd by this place of peace? + +Enters the tomb + +Romeo! O, pale! Who else? what, Paris too? +And steep'd in blood? Ah, what an unkind hour +Is guilty of this lamentable chance! +The lady stirs. + +JULIET wakes + +JULIET +O comfortable friar! where is my lord? +I do remember well where I should be, +And there I am. Where is my Romeo? + +Noise within + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I hear some noise. Lady, come from that nest +Of death, contagion, and unnatural sleep: +A greater power than we can contradict +Hath thwarted our intents. Come, come away. +Thy husband in thy bosom there lies dead; +And Paris too. Come, I'll dispose of thee +Among a sisterhood of holy nuns: +Stay not to question, for the watch is coming; +Come, go, good Juliet, + +Noise again + +I dare no longer stay. + +JULIET +Go, get thee hence, for I will not away. + +Exit FRIAR LAURENCE + +What's here? a cup, closed in my true love's hand? +Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: +O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop +To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; +Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, +To make die with a restorative. + +Kisses him + +Thy lips are warm. + +First Watchman +[Within] Lead, boy: which way? + +JULIET +Yea, noise? then I'll be brief. O happy dagger! + +Snatching ROMEO's dagger + +This is thy sheath; + +Stabs herself + +there rust, and let me die. + +Falls on ROMEO's body, and dies + +Enter Watch, with the Page of PARIS + +PAGE +This is the place; there, where the torch doth burn. + +First Watchman +The ground is bloody; search about the churchyard: +Go, some of you, whoe'er you find attach. +Pitiful sight! here lies the county slain, +And Juliet bleeding, warm, and newly dead, +Who here hath lain these two days buried. +Go, tell the prince: run to the Capulets: +Raise up the Montagues: some others search: +We see the ground whereon these woes do lie; +But the true ground of all these piteous woes +We cannot without circumstance descry. + +Re-enter some of the Watch, with BALTHASAR + +Second Watchman +Here's Romeo's man; we found him in the churchyard. + +First Watchman +Hold him in safety, till the prince come hither. + +Re-enter others of the Watch, with FRIAR LAURENCE + +Third Watchman +Here is a friar, that trembles, sighs and weeps: +We took this mattock and this spade from him, +As he was coming from this churchyard side. + +First Watchman +A great suspicion: stay the friar too. + +Enter the PRINCE and Attendants + +PRINCE +What misadventure is so early up, +That calls our person from our morning's rest? + +Enter CAPULET, LADY CAPULET, and others + +CAPULET +What should it be, that they so shriek abroad? + +LADY CAPULET +The people in the street cry Romeo, +Some Juliet, and some Paris; and all run, +With open outcry toward our monument. + +PRINCE +What fear is this which startles in our ears? + +First Watchman +Sovereign, here lies the County Paris slain; +And Romeo dead; and Juliet, dead before, +Warm and new kill'd. + +PRINCE +Search, seek, and know how this foul murder comes. + +First Watchman +Here is a friar, and slaughter'd Romeo's man; +With instruments upon them, fit to open +These dead men's tombs. + +CAPULET +O heavens! O wife, look how our daughter bleeds! +This dagger hath mista'en--for, lo, his house +Is empty on the back of Montague,-- +And it mis-sheathed in my daughter's bosom! + +LADY CAPULET +O me! this sight of death is as a bell, +That warns my old age to a sepulchre. + +Enter MONTAGUE and others + +PRINCE +Come, Montague; for thou art early up, +To see thy son and heir more early down. + +MONTAGUE +Alas, my liege, my wife is dead to-night; +Grief of my son's exile hath stopp'd her breath: +What further woe conspires against mine age? + +PRINCE +Look, and thou shalt see. + +MONTAGUE +O thou untaught! what manners is in this? +To press before thy father to a grave? + +PRINCE +Seal up the mouth of outrage for a while, +Till we can clear these ambiguities, +And know their spring, their head, their +true descent; +And then will I be general of your woes, +And lead you even to death: meantime forbear, +And let mischance be slave to patience. +Bring forth the parties of suspicion. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I am the greatest, able to do least, +Yet most suspected, as the time and place +Doth make against me of this direful murder; +And here I stand, both to impeach and purge +Myself condemned and myself excused. + +PRINCE +Then say at once what thou dost know in this. + +FRIAR LAURENCE +I will be brief, for my short date of breath +Is not so long as is a tedious tale. +Romeo, there dead, was husband to that Juliet; +And she, there dead, that Romeo's faithful wife: +I married them; and their stol'n marriage-day +Was Tybalt's dooms-day, whose untimely death +Banish'd the new-made bridegroom from the city, +For whom, and not for Tybalt, Juliet pined. +You, to remove that siege of grief from her, +Betroth'd and would have married her perforce +To County Paris: then comes she to me, +And, with wild looks, bid me devise some mean +To rid her from this second marriage, +Or in my cell there would she kill herself. +Then gave I her, so tutor'd by my art, +A sleeping potion; which so took effect +As I intended, for it wrought on her +The form of death: meantime I writ to Romeo, +That he should hither come as this dire night, +To help to take her from her borrow'd grave, +Being the time the potion's force should cease. +But he which bore my letter, Friar John, +Was stay'd by accident, and yesternight +Return'd my letter back. Then all alone +At the prefixed hour of her waking, +Came I to take her from her kindred's vault; +Meaning to keep her closely at my cell, +Till I conveniently could send to Romeo: +But when I came, some minute ere the time +Of her awaking, here untimely lay +The noble Paris and true Romeo dead. +She wakes; and I entreated her come forth, +And bear this work of heaven with patience: +But then a noise did scare me from the tomb; +And she, too desperate, would not go with me, +But, as it seems, did violence on herself. +All this I know; and to the marriage +Her nurse is privy: and, if aught in this +Miscarried by my fault, let my old life +Be sacrificed, some hour before his time, +Unto the rigour of severest law. + +PRINCE +We still have known thee for a holy man. +Where's Romeo's man? what can he say in this? + +BALTHASAR +I brought my master news of Juliet's death; +And then in post he came from Mantua +To this same place, to this same monument. +This letter he early bid me give his father, +And threatened me with death, going in the vault, +I departed not and left him there. + +PRINCE +Give me the letter; I will look on it. +Where is the county's page, that raised the watch? +Sirrah, what made your master in this place? + +PAGE +He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave; +And bid me stand aloof, and so I did: +Anon comes one with light to ope the tomb; +And by and by my master drew on him; +And then I ran away to call the watch. + +PRINCE +This letter doth make good the friar's words, +Their course of love, the tidings of her death: +And here he writes that he did buy a poison +Of a poor 'pothecary, and therewithal +Came to this vault to die, and lie with Juliet. +Where be these enemies? Capulet! Montague! +See, what a scourge is laid upon your hate, +That heaven finds means to kill your joys with love. +And I for winking at your discords too +Have lost a brace of kinsmen: all are punish'd. + +CAPULET +O brother Montague, give me thy hand: +This is my daughter's jointure, for no more +Can I demand. + +MONTAGUE +But I can give thee more: +For I will raise her statue in pure gold; +That while Verona by that name is known, +There shall no figure at such rate be set +As that of true and faithful Juliet. + +CAPULET +As rich shall Romeo's by his lady's lie; +Poor sacrifices of our enmity! + +PRINCE +A glooming peace this morning with it brings; +The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head: +Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things; +Some shall be pardon'd, and some punished: +For never was a story of more woe +Than this of Juliet and her Romeo. + +Exeunt +Antony and Cleopatra +Shakespeare homepage | Antony and Cleopatra | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Alexandria. A room in CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter DEMETRIUS and PHILO +PHILO +Nay, but this dotage of our general's +O'erflows the measure: those his goodly eyes, +That o'er the files and musters of the war +Have glow'd like plated Mars, now bend, now turn, +The office and devotion of their view +Upon a tawny front: his captain's heart, +Which in the scuffles of great fights hath burst +The buckles on his breast, reneges all temper, +And is become the bellows and the fan +To cool a gipsy's lust. + +Flourish. Enter ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, her Ladies, the Train, with Eunuchs fanning her + +Look, where they come: +Take but good note, and you shall see in him. +The triple pillar of the world transform'd +Into a strumpet's fool: behold and see. + +CLEOPATRA +If it be love indeed, tell me how much. + +MARK ANTONY +There's beggary in the love that can be reckon'd. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll set a bourn how far to be beloved. + +MARK ANTONY +Then must thou needs find out new heaven, new earth. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +News, my good lord, from Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Grates me: the sum. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, hear them, Antony: +Fulvia perchance is angry; or, who knows +If the scarce-bearded Caesar have not sent +His powerful mandate to you, 'Do this, or this; +Take in that kingdom, and enfranchise that; +Perform 't, or else we damn thee.' + +MARK ANTONY +How, my love! + +CLEOPATRA +Perchance! nay, and most like: +You must not stay here longer, your dismission +Is come from Caesar; therefore hear it, Antony. +Where's Fulvia's process? Caesar's I would say? both? +Call in the messengers. As I am Egypt's queen, +Thou blushest, Antony; and that blood of thine +Is Caesar's homager: else so thy cheek pays shame +When shrill-tongued Fulvia scolds. The messengers! + +MARK ANTONY +Let Rome in Tiber melt, and the wide arch +Of the ranged empire fall! Here is my space. +Kingdoms are clay: our dungy earth alike +Feeds beast as man: the nobleness of life +Is to do thus; when such a mutual pair + +Embracing + +And such a twain can do't, in which I bind, +On pain of punishment, the world to weet +We stand up peerless. + +CLEOPATRA +Excellent falsehood! +Why did he marry Fulvia, and not love her? +I'll seem the fool I am not; Antony +Will be himself. + +MARK ANTONY +But stirr'd by Cleopatra. +Now, for the love of Love and her soft hours, +Let's not confound the time with conference harsh: +There's not a minute of our lives should stretch +Without some pleasure now. What sport tonight? + +CLEOPATRA +Hear the ambassadors. + +MARK ANTONY +Fie, wrangling queen! +Whom every thing becomes, to chide, to laugh, +To weep; whose every passion fully strives +To make itself, in thee, fair and admired! +No messenger, but thine; and all alone +To-night we'll wander through the streets and note +The qualities of people. Come, my queen; +Last night you did desire it: speak not to us. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA with their train + +DEMETRIUS +Is Caesar with Antonius prized so slight? + +PHILO +Sir, sometimes, when he is not Antony, +He comes too short of that great property +Which still should go with Antony. + +DEMETRIUS +I am full sorry +That he approves the common liar, who +Thus speaks of him at Rome: but I will hope +Of better deeds to-morrow. Rest you happy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. Another room. + +Enter CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, and a Soothsayer +CHARMIAN +Lord Alexas, sweet Alexas, most any thing Alexas, +almost most absolute Alexas, where's the soothsayer +that you praised so to the queen? O, that I knew +this husband, which, you say, must charge his horns +with garlands! + +ALEXAS +Soothsayer! + +Soothsayer +Your will? + +CHARMIAN +Is this the man? Is't you, sir, that know things? + +Soothsayer +In nature's infinite book of secrecy +A little I can read. + +ALEXAS +Show him your hand. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Bring in the banquet quickly; wine enough +Cleopatra's health to drink. + +CHARMIAN +Good sir, give me good fortune. + +Soothsayer +I make not, but foresee. + +CHARMIAN +Pray, then, foresee me one. + +Soothsayer +You shall be yet far fairer than you are. + +CHARMIAN +He means in flesh. + +IRAS +No, you shall paint when you are old. + +CHARMIAN +Wrinkles forbid! + +ALEXAS +Vex not his prescience; be attentive. + +CHARMIAN +Hush! + +Soothsayer +You shall be more beloving than beloved. + +CHARMIAN +I had rather heat my liver with drinking. + +ALEXAS +Nay, hear him. + +CHARMIAN +Good now, some excellent fortune! Let me be married +to three kings in a forenoon, and widow them all: +let me have a child at fifty, to whom Herod of Jewry +may do homage: find me to marry me with Octavius +Caesar, and companion me with my mistress. + +Soothsayer +You shall outlive the lady whom you serve. + +CHARMIAN +O excellent! I love long life better than figs. + +Soothsayer +You have seen and proved a fairer former fortune +Than that which is to approach. + +CHARMIAN +Then belike my children shall have no names: +prithee, how many boys and wenches must I have? + +Soothsayer +If every of your wishes had a womb. +And fertile every wish, a million. + +CHARMIAN +Out, fool! I forgive thee for a witch. + +ALEXAS +You think none but your sheets are privy to your wishes. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, come, tell Iras hers. + +ALEXAS +We'll know all our fortunes. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Mine, and most of our fortunes, to-night, shall +be--drunk to bed. + +IRAS +There's a palm presages chastity, if nothing else. + +CHARMIAN +E'en as the o'erflowing Nilus presageth famine. + +IRAS +Go, you wild bedfellow, you cannot soothsay. + +CHARMIAN +Nay, if an oily palm be not a fruitful +prognostication, I cannot scratch mine ear. Prithee, +tell her but a worky-day fortune. + +Soothsayer +Your fortunes are alike. + +IRAS +But how, but how? give me particulars. + +Soothsayer +I have said. + +IRAS +Am I not an inch of fortune better than she? + +CHARMIAN +Well, if you were but an inch of fortune better than +I, where would you choose it? + +IRAS +Not in my husband's nose. + +CHARMIAN +Our worser thoughts heavens mend! Alexas,--come, +his fortune, his fortune! O, let him marry a woman +that cannot go, sweet Isis, I beseech thee! and let +her die too, and give him a worse! and let worst +follow worse, till the worst of all follow him +laughing to his grave, fifty-fold a cuckold! Good +Isis, hear me this prayer, though thou deny me a +matter of more weight; good Isis, I beseech thee! + +IRAS +Amen. Dear goddess, hear that prayer of the people! +for, as it is a heartbreaking to see a handsome man +loose-wived, so it is a deadly sorrow to behold a +foul knave uncuckolded: therefore, dear Isis, keep +decorum, and fortune him accordingly! + +CHARMIAN +Amen. + +ALEXAS +Lo, now, if it lay in their hands to make me a +cuckold, they would make themselves whores, but +they'ld do't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Hush! here comes Antony. + +CHARMIAN +Not he; the queen. + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +CLEOPATRA +Saw you my lord? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Was he not here? + +CHARMIAN +No, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +He was disposed to mirth; but on the sudden +A Roman thought hath struck him. Enobarbus! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Seek him, and bring him hither. +Where's Alexas? + +ALEXAS +Here, at your service. My lord approaches. + +CLEOPATRA +We will not look upon him: go with us. + +Exeunt + +Enter MARK ANTONY with a Messenger and Attendants + +Messenger +Fulvia thy wife first came into the field. + +MARK ANTONY +Against my brother Lucius? + +Messenger +Ay: +But soon that war had end, and the time's state +Made friends of them, joining their force 'gainst Caesar; +Whose better issue in the war, from Italy, +Upon the first encounter, drave them. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, what worst? + +Messenger +The nature of bad news infects the teller. + +MARK ANTONY +When it concerns the fool or coward. On: +Things that are past are done with me. 'Tis thus: +Who tells me true, though in his tale lie death, +I hear him as he flatter'd. + +Messenger +Labienus-- +This is stiff news--hath, with his Parthian force, +Extended Asia from Euphrates; +His conquering banner shook from Syria +To Lydia and to Ionia; Whilst-- + +MARK ANTONY +Antony, thou wouldst say,-- + +Messenger +O, my lord! + +MARK ANTONY +Speak to me home, mince not the general tongue: +Name Cleopatra as she is call'd in Rome; +Rail thou in Fulvia's phrase; and taunt my faults +With such full licence as both truth and malice +Have power to utter. O, then we bring forth weeds, +When our quick minds lie still; and our ills told us +Is as our earing. Fare thee well awhile. + +Messenger +At your noble pleasure. + +Exit + +MARK ANTONY +From Sicyon, ho, the news! Speak there! + +First Attendant +The man from Sicyon,--is there such an one? + +Second Attendant +He stays upon your will. + +MARK ANTONY +Let him appear. +These strong Egyptian fetters I must break, +Or lose myself in dotage. + +Enter another Messenger + +What are you? + +Second Messenger +Fulvia thy wife is dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Where died she? + +Second Messenger +In Sicyon: +Her length of sickness, with what else more serious +Importeth thee to know, this bears. + +Gives a letter + +MARK ANTONY +Forbear me. + +Exit Second Messenger + +There's a great spirit gone! Thus did I desire it: +What our contempt doth often hurl from us, +We wish it ours again; the present pleasure, +By revolution lowering, does become +The opposite of itself: she's good, being gone; +The hand could pluck her back that shoved her on. +I must from this enchanting queen break off: +Ten thousand harms, more than the ills I know, +My idleness doth hatch. How now! Enobarbus! + +Re-enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's your pleasure, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +I must with haste from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, then, we kill all our women: +we see how mortal an unkindness is to them; +if they suffer our departure, death's the word. + +MARK ANTONY +I must be gone. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Under a compelling occasion, let women die; it were +pity to cast them away for nothing; though, between +them and a great cause, they should be esteemed +nothing. Cleopatra, catching but the least noise of +this, dies instantly; I have seen her die twenty +times upon far poorer moment: I do think there is +mettle in death, which commits some loving act upon +her, she hath such a celerity in dying. + +MARK ANTONY +She is cunning past man's thought. + +Exit ALEXAS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, sir, no; her passions are made of nothing but +the finest part of pure love: we cannot call her +winds and waters sighs and tears; they are greater +storms and tempests than almanacs can report: this +cannot be cunning in her; if it be, she makes a +shower of rain as well as Jove. + +MARK ANTONY +Would I had never seen her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, sir, you had then left unseen a wonderful piece +of work; which not to have been blest withal would +have discredited your travel. + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir? + +MARK ANTONY +Fulvia is dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Fulvia! + +MARK ANTONY +Dead. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Why, sir, give the gods a thankful sacrifice. When +it pleaseth their deities to take the wife of a man +from him, it shows to man the tailors of the earth; +comforting therein, that when old robes are worn +out, there are members to make new. If there were +no more women but Fulvia, then had you indeed a cut, +and the case to be lamented: this grief is crowned +with consolation; your old smock brings forth a new +petticoat: and indeed the tears live in an onion +that should water this sorrow. + +MARK ANTONY +The business she hath broached in the state +Cannot endure my absence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And the business you have broached here cannot be +without you; especially that of Cleopatra's, which +wholly depends on your abode. + +MARK ANTONY +No more light answers. Let our officers +Have notice what we purpose. I shall break +The cause of our expedience to the queen, +And get her leave to part. For not alone +The death of Fulvia, with more urgent touches, +Do strongly speak to us; but the letters too +Of many our contriving friends in Rome +Petition us at home: Sextus Pompeius +Hath given the dare to Caesar, and commands +The empire of the sea: our slippery people, +Whose love is never link'd to the deserver +Till his deserts are past, begin to throw +Pompey the Great and all his dignities +Upon his son; who, high in name and power, +Higher than both in blood and life, stands up +For the main soldier: whose quality, going on, +The sides o' the world may danger: much is breeding, +Which, like the courser's hair, hath yet but life, +And not a serpent's poison. Say, our pleasure, +To such whose place is under us, requires +Our quick remove from hence. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall do't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Another room. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is he? + +CHARMIAN +I did not see him since. + +CLEOPATRA +See where he is, who's with him, what he does: +I did not send you: if you find him sad, +Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report +That I am sudden sick: quick, and return. + +Exit ALEXAS + +CHARMIAN +Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, +You do not hold the method to enforce +The like from him. + +CLEOPATRA +What should I do, I do not? + +CHARMIAN +In each thing give him way, cross him nothing. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him. + +CHARMIAN +Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: +In time we hate that which we often fear. +But here comes Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY + +CLEOPATRA +I am sick and sullen. + +MARK ANTONY +I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: +It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature +Will not sustain it. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, my dearest queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, stand further from me. + +MARK ANTONY +What's the matter? + +CLEOPATRA +I know, by that same eye, there's some good news. +What says the married woman? You may go: +Would she had never given you leave to come! +Let her not say 'tis I that keep you here: +I have no power upon you; hers you are. + +MARK ANTONY +The gods best know,-- + +CLEOPATRA +O, never was there queen +So mightily betray'd! yet at the first +I saw the treasons planted. + +MARK ANTONY +Cleopatra,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Why should I think you can be mine and true, +Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, +Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, +To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, +Which break themselves in swearing! + +MARK ANTONY +Most sweet queen,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, +But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, +Then was the time for words: no going then; +Eternity was in our lips and eyes, +Bliss in our brows' bent; none our parts so poor, +But was a race of heaven: they are so still, +Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, +Art turn'd the greatest liar. + +MARK ANTONY +How now, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know +There were a heart in Egypt. + +MARK ANTONY +Hear me, queen: +The strong necessity of time commands +Our services awhile; but my full heart +Remains in use with you. Our Italy +Shines o'er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius +Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: +Equality of two domestic powers +Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength, +Are newly grown to love: the condemn'd Pompey, +Rich in his father's honour, creeps apace, +Into the hearts of such as have not thrived +Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; +And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge +By any desperate change: my more particular, +And that which most with you should safe my going, +Is Fulvia's death. + +CLEOPATRA +Though age from folly could not give me freedom, +It does from childishness: can Fulvia die? + +MARK ANTONY +She's dead, my queen: +Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read +The garboils she awaked; at the last, best: +See when and where she died. + +CLEOPATRA +O most false love! +Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill +With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, +In Fulvia's death, how mine received shall be. + +MARK ANTONY +Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know +The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, +As you shall give the advice. By the fire +That quickens Nilus' slime, I go from hence +Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war +As thou affect'st. + +CLEOPATRA +Cut my lace, Charmian, come; +But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, +So Antony loves. + +MARK ANTONY +My precious queen, forbear; +And give true evidence to his love, which stands +An honourable trial. + +CLEOPATRA +So Fulvia told me. +I prithee, turn aside and weep for her, +Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears +Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene +Of excellent dissembling; and let it look +Life perfect honour. + +MARK ANTONY +You'll heat my blood: no more. + +CLEOPATRA +You can do better yet; but this is meetly. + +MARK ANTONY +Now, by my sword,-- + +CLEOPATRA +And target. Still he mends; +But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, +How this Herculean Roman does become +The carriage of his chafe. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll leave you, lady. + +CLEOPATRA +Courteous lord, one word. +Sir, you and I must part, but that's not it: +Sir, you and I have loved, but there's not it; +That you know well: something it is I would, +O, my oblivion is a very Antony, +And I am all forgotten. + +MARK ANTONY +But that your royalty +Holds idleness your subject, I should take you +For idleness itself. + +CLEOPATRA +'Tis sweating labour +To bear such idleness so near the heart +As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; +Since my becomings kill me, when they do not +Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence; +Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly. +And all the gods go with you! upon your sword +Sit laurel victory! and smooth success +Be strew'd before your feet! + +MARK ANTONY +Let us go. Come; +Our separation so abides, and flies, +That thou, residing here, go'st yet with me, +And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, reading a letter, LEPIDUS, and their Train +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may see, Lepidus, and henceforth know, +It is not Caesar's natural vice to hate +Our great competitor: from Alexandria +This is the news: he fishes, drinks, and wastes +The lamps of night in revel; is not more man-like +Than Cleopatra; nor the queen of Ptolemy +More womanly than he; hardly gave audience, or +Vouchsafed to think he had partners: you shall find there +A man who is the abstract of all faults +That all men follow. + +LEPIDUS +I must not think there are +Evils enow to darken all his goodness: +His faults in him seem as the spots of heaven, +More fiery by night's blackness; hereditary, +Rather than purchased; what he cannot change, +Than what he chooses. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You are too indulgent. Let us grant, it is not +Amiss to tumble on the bed of Ptolemy; +To give a kingdom for a mirth; to sit +And keep the turn of tippling with a slave; +To reel the streets at noon, and stand the buffet +With knaves that smell of sweat: say this +becomes him,-- +As his composure must be rare indeed +Whom these things cannot blemish,--yet must Antony +No way excuse his soils, when we do bear +So great weight in his lightness. If he fill'd +His vacancy with his voluptuousness, +Full surfeits, and the dryness of his bones, +Call on him for't: but to confound such time, +That drums him from his sport, and speaks as loud +As his own state and ours,--'tis to be chid +As we rate boys, who, being mature in knowledge, +Pawn their experience to their present pleasure, +And so rebel to judgment. + +Enter a Messenger + +LEPIDUS +Here's more news. + +Messenger +Thy biddings have been done; and every hour, +Most noble Caesar, shalt thou have report +How 'tis abroad. Pompey is strong at sea; +And it appears he is beloved of those +That only have fear'd Caesar: to the ports +The discontents repair, and men's reports +Give him much wrong'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I should have known no less. +It hath been taught us from the primal state, +That he which is was wish'd until he were; +And the ebb'd man, ne'er loved till ne'er worth love, +Comes dear'd by being lack'd. This common body, +Like to a vagabond flag upon the stream, +Goes to and back, lackeying the varying tide, +To rot itself with motion. + +Messenger +Caesar, I bring thee word, +Menecrates and Menas, famous pirates, +Make the sea serve them, which they ear and wound +With keels of every kind: many hot inroads +They make in Italy; the borders maritime +Lack blood to think on't, and flush youth revolt: +No vessel can peep forth, but 'tis as soon +Taken as seen; for Pompey's name strikes more +Than could his war resisted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Antony, +Leave thy lascivious wassails. When thou once +Wast beaten from Modena, where thou slew'st +Hirtius and Pansa, consuls, at thy heel +Did famine follow; whom thou fought'st against, +Though daintily brought up, with patience more +Than savages could suffer: thou didst drink +The stale of horses, and the gilded puddle +Which beasts would cough at: thy palate then did deign +The roughest berry on the rudest hedge; +Yea, like the stag, when snow the pasture sheets, +The barks of trees thou browsed'st; on the Alps +It is reported thou didst eat strange flesh, +Which some did die to look on: and all this-- +It wounds thine honour that I speak it now-- +Was borne so like a soldier, that thy cheek +So much as lank'd not. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis pity of him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let his shames quickly +Drive him to Rome: 'tis time we twain +Did show ourselves i' the field; and to that end +Assemble we immediate council: Pompey +Thrives in our idleness. + +LEPIDUS +To-morrow, Caesar, +I shall be furnish'd to inform you rightly +Both what by sea and land I can be able +To front this present time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Till which encounter, +It is my business too. Farewell. + +LEPIDUS +Farewell, my lord: what you shall know meantime +Of stirs abroad, I shall beseech you, sir, +To let me be partaker. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Doubt not, sir; +I knew it for my bond. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Charmian! + +CHARMIAN +Madam? + +CLEOPATRA +Ha, ha! +Give me to drink mandragora. + +CHARMIAN +Why, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +That I might sleep out this great gap of time +My Antony is away. + +CHARMIAN +You think of him too much. + +CLEOPATRA +O, 'tis treason! + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I trust, not so. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou, eunuch Mardian! + +MARDIAN +What's your highness' pleasure? + +CLEOPATRA +Not now to hear thee sing; I take no pleasure +In aught an eunuch has: 'tis well for thee, +That, being unseminar'd, thy freer thoughts +May not fly forth of Egypt. Hast thou affections? + +MARDIAN +Yes, gracious madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed! + +MARDIAN +Not in deed, madam; for I can do nothing +But what indeed is honest to be done: +Yet have I fierce affections, and think +What Venus did with Mars. + +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, +Where think'st thou he is now? Stands he, or sits he? +Or does he walk? or is he on his horse? +O happy horse, to bear the weight of Antony! +Do bravely, horse! for wot'st thou whom thou movest? +The demi-Atlas of this earth, the arm +And burgonet of men. He's speaking now, +Or murmuring 'Where's my serpent of old Nile?' +For so he calls me: now I feed myself +With most delicious poison. Think on me, +That am with Phoebus' amorous pinches black, +And wrinkled deep in time? Broad-fronted Caesar, +When thou wast here above the ground, I was +A morsel for a monarch: and great Pompey +Would stand and make his eyes grow in my brow; +There would he anchor his aspect and die +With looking on his life. + +Enter ALEXAS, from OCTAVIUS CAESAR + +ALEXAS +Sovereign of Egypt, hail! + +CLEOPATRA +How much unlike art thou Mark Antony! +Yet, coming from him, that great medicine hath +With his tinct gilded thee. +How goes it with my brave Mark Antony? + +ALEXAS +Last thing he did, dear queen, +He kiss'd,--the last of many doubled kisses,-- +This orient pearl. His speech sticks in my heart. + +CLEOPATRA +Mine ear must pluck it thence. + +ALEXAS +'Good friend,' quoth he, +'Say, the firm Roman to great Egypt sends +This treasure of an oyster; at whose foot, +To mend the petty present, I will piece +Her opulent throne with kingdoms; all the east, +Say thou, shall call her mistress.' So he nodded, +And soberly did mount an arm-gaunt steed, +Who neigh'd so high, that what I would have spoke +Was beastly dumb'd by him. + +CLEOPATRA +What, was he sad or merry? + +ALEXAS +Like to the time o' the year between the extremes +Of hot and cold, he was nor sad nor merry. + +CLEOPATRA +O well-divided disposition! Note him, +Note him good Charmian, 'tis the man; but note him: +He was not sad, for he would shine on those +That make their looks by his; he was not merry, +Which seem'd to tell them his remembrance lay +In Egypt with his joy; but between both: +O heavenly mingle! Be'st thou sad or merry, +The violence of either thee becomes, +So does it no man else. Met'st thou my posts? + +ALEXAS +Ay, madam, twenty several messengers: +Why do you send so thick? + +CLEOPATRA +Who's born that day +When I forget to send to Antony, +Shall die a beggar. Ink and paper, Charmian. +Welcome, my good Alexas. Did I, Charmian, +Ever love Caesar so? + +CHARMIAN +O that brave Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +Be choked with such another emphasis! +Say, the brave Antony. + +CHARMIAN +The valiant Caesar! + +CLEOPATRA +By Isis, I will give thee bloody teeth, +If thou with Caesar paragon again +My man of men. + +CHARMIAN +By your most gracious pardon, +I sing but after you. + +CLEOPATRA +My salad days, +When I was green in judgment: cold in blood, +To say as I said then! But, come, away; +Get me ink and paper: +He shall have every day a several greeting, +Or I'll unpeople Egypt. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Messina. POMPEY's house. + +Enter POMPEY, MENECRATES, and MENAS, in warlike manner +POMPEY +If the great gods be just, they shall assist +The deeds of justest men. + +MENECRATES +Know, worthy Pompey, +That what they do delay, they not deny. + +POMPEY +Whiles we are suitors to their throne, decays +The thing we sue for. + +MENECRATES +We, ignorant of ourselves, +Beg often our own harms, which the wise powers +Deny us for our good; so find we profit +By losing of our prayers. + +POMPEY +I shall do well: +The people love me, and the sea is mine; +My powers are crescent, and my auguring hope +Says it will come to the full. Mark Antony +In Egypt sits at dinner, and will make +No wars without doors: Caesar gets money where +He loses hearts: Lepidus flatters both, +Of both is flatter'd; but he neither loves, +Nor either cares for him. + +MENAS +Caesar and Lepidus +Are in the field: a mighty strength they carry. + +POMPEY +Where have you this? 'tis false. + +MENAS +From Silvius, sir. + +POMPEY +He dreams: I know they are in Rome together, +Looking for Antony. But all the charms of love, +Salt Cleopatra, soften thy waned lip! +Let witchcraft join with beauty, lust with both! +Tie up the libertine in a field of feasts, +Keep his brain fuming; Epicurean cooks +Sharpen with cloyless sauce his appetite; +That sleep and feeding may prorogue his honour +Even till a Lethe'd dulness! + +Enter VARRIUS + +How now, Varrius! + +VARRIUS +This is most certain that I shall deliver: +Mark Antony is every hour in Rome +Expected: since he went from Egypt 'tis +A space for further travel. + +POMPEY +I could have given less matter +A better ear. Menas, I did not think +This amorous surfeiter would have donn'd his helm +For such a petty war: his soldiership +Is twice the other twain: but let us rear +The higher our opinion, that our stirring +Can from the lap of Egypt's widow pluck +The ne'er-lust-wearied Antony. + +MENAS +I cannot hope +Caesar and Antony shall well greet together: +His wife that's dead did trespasses to Caesar; +His brother warr'd upon him; although, I think, +Not moved by Antony. + +POMPEY +I know not, Menas, +How lesser enmities may give way to greater. +Were't not that we stand up against them all, +'Twere pregnant they should square between +themselves; +For they have entertained cause enough +To draw their swords: but how the fear of us +May cement their divisions and bind up +The petty difference, we yet not know. +Be't as our gods will have't! It only stands +Our lives upon to use our strongest hands. +Come, Menas. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. The house of LEPIDUS. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and LEPIDUS +LEPIDUS +Good Enobarbus, 'tis a worthy deed, +And shall become you well, to entreat your captain +To soft and gentle speech. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall entreat him +To answer like himself: if Caesar move him, +Let Antony look over Caesar's head +And speak as loud as Mars. By Jupiter, +Were I the wearer of Antonius' beard, +I would not shave't to-day. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis not a time +For private stomaching. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Every time +Serves for the matter that is then born in't. + +LEPIDUS +But small to greater matters must give way. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not if the small come first. + +LEPIDUS +Your speech is passion: +But, pray you, stir no embers up. Here comes +The noble Antony. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and VENTIDIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +And yonder, Caesar. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA + +MARK ANTONY +If we compose well here, to Parthia: +Hark, Ventidius. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not know, +Mecaenas; ask Agrippa. + +LEPIDUS +Noble friends, +That which combined us was most great, and let not +A leaner action rend us. What's amiss, +May it be gently heard: when we debate +Our trivial difference loud, we do commit +Murder in healing wounds: then, noble partners, +The rather, for I earnestly beseech, +Touch you the sourest points with sweetest terms, +Nor curstness grow to the matter. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis spoken well. +Were we before our armies, and to fight. +I should do thus. + +Flourish + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome to Rome. + +MARK ANTONY +Thank you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Sit. + +MARK ANTONY +Sit, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, then. + +MARK ANTONY +I learn, you take things ill which are not so, +Or being, concern you not. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I must be laugh'd at, +If, or for nothing or a little, I +Should say myself offended, and with you +Chiefly i' the world; more laugh'd at, that I should +Once name you derogately, when to sound your name +It not concern'd me. + +MARK ANTONY +My being in Egypt, Caesar, +What was't to you? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No more than my residing here at Rome +Might be to you in Egypt: yet, if you there +Did practise on my state, your being in Egypt +Might be my question. + +MARK ANTONY +How intend you, practised? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You may be pleased to catch at mine intent +By what did here befal me. Your wife and brother +Made wars upon me; and their contestation +Was theme for you, you were the word of war. + +MARK ANTONY +You do mistake your business; my brother never +Did urge me in his act: I did inquire it; +And have my learning from some true reports, +That drew their swords with you. Did he not rather +Discredit my authority with yours; +And make the wars alike against my stomach, +Having alike your cause? Of this my letters +Before did satisfy you. If you'll patch a quarrel, +As matter whole you have not to make it with, +It must not be with this. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You praise yourself +By laying defects of judgment to me; but +You patch'd up your excuses. + +MARK ANTONY +Not so, not so; +I know you could not lack, I am certain on't, +Very necessity of this thought, that I, +Your partner in the cause 'gainst which he fought, +Could not with graceful eyes attend those wars +Which fronted mine own peace. As for my wife, +I would you had her spirit in such another: +The third o' the world is yours; which with a snaffle +You may pace easy, but not such a wife. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would we had all such wives, that the men might go +to wars with the women! + +MARK ANTONY +So much uncurbable, her garboils, Caesar +Made out of her impatience, which not wanted +Shrewdness of policy too, I grieving grant +Did you too much disquiet: for that you must +But say, I could not help it. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I wrote to you +When rioting in Alexandria; you +Did pocket up my letters, and with taunts +Did gibe my missive out of audience. + +MARK ANTONY +Sir, +He fell upon me ere admitted: then +Three kings I had newly feasted, and did want +Of what I was i' the morning: but next day +I told him of myself; which was as much +As to have ask'd him pardon. Let this fellow +Be nothing of our strife; if we contend, +Out of our question wipe him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You have broken +The article of your oath; which you shall never +Have tongue to charge me with. + +LEPIDUS +Soft, Caesar! + +MARK ANTONY +No, +Lepidus, let him speak: +The honour is sacred which he talks on now, +Supposing that I lack'd it. But, on, Caesar; +The article of my oath. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +To lend me arms and aid when I required them; +The which you both denied. + +MARK ANTONY +Neglected, rather; +And then when poison'd hours had bound me up +From mine own knowledge. As nearly as I may, +I'll play the penitent to you: but mine honesty +Shall not make poor my greatness, nor my power +Work without it. Truth is, that Fulvia, +To have me out of Egypt, made wars here; +For which myself, the ignorant motive, do +So far ask pardon as befits mine honour +To stoop in such a case. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis noble spoken. + +MECAENAS +If it might please you, to enforce no further +The griefs between ye: to forget them quite +Were to remember that the present need +Speaks to atone you. + +LEPIDUS +Worthily spoken, Mecaenas. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Or, if you borrow one another's love for the +instant, you may, when you hear no more words of +Pompey, return it again: you shall have time to +wrangle in when you have nothing else to do. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou art a soldier only: speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That truth should be silent I had almost forgot. + +MARK ANTONY +You wrong this presence; therefore speak no more. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Go to, then; your considerate stone. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I do not much dislike the matter, but +The manner of his speech; for't cannot be +We shall remain in friendship, our conditions +So differing in their acts. Yet if I knew +What hoop should hold us stanch, from edge to edge +O' the world I would pursue it. + +AGRIPPA +Give me leave, Caesar,-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Speak, Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Thou hast a sister by the mother's side, +Admired Octavia: great Mark Antony +Is now a widower. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Say not so, Agrippa: +If Cleopatra heard you, your reproof +Were well deserved of rashness. + +MARK ANTONY +I am not married, Caesar: let me hear +Agrippa further speak. + +AGRIPPA +To hold you in perpetual amity, +To make you brothers, and to knit your hearts +With an unslipping knot, take Antony +Octavia to his wife; whose beauty claims +No worse a husband than the best of men; +Whose virtue and whose general graces speak +That which none else can utter. By this marriage, +All little jealousies, which now seem great, +And all great fears, which now import their dangers, +Would then be nothing: truths would be tales, +Where now half tales be truths: her love to both +Would, each to other and all loves to both, +Draw after her. Pardon what I have spoke; +For 'tis a studied, not a present thought, +By duty ruminated. + +MARK ANTONY +Will Caesar speak? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not till he hears how Antony is touch'd +With what is spoke already. + +MARK ANTONY +What power is in Agrippa, +If I would say, 'Agrippa, be it so,' +To make this good? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The power of Caesar, and +His power unto Octavia. + +MARK ANTONY +May I never +To this good purpose, that so fairly shows, +Dream of impediment! Let me have thy hand: +Further this act of grace: and from this hour +The heart of brothers govern in our loves +And sway our great designs! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There is my hand. +A sister I bequeath you, whom no brother +Did ever love so dearly: let her live +To join our kingdoms and our hearts; and never +Fly off our loves again! + +LEPIDUS +Happily, amen! + +MARK ANTONY +I did not think to draw my sword 'gainst Pompey; +For he hath laid strange courtesies and great +Of late upon me: I must thank him only, +Lest my remembrance suffer ill report; +At heel of that, defy him. + +LEPIDUS +Time calls upon's: +Of us must Pompey presently be sought, +Or else he seeks out us. + +MARK ANTONY +Where lies he? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +About the mount Misenum. + +MARK ANTONY +What is his strength by land? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Great and increasing: but by sea +He is an absolute master. + +MARK ANTONY +So is the fame. +Would we had spoke together! Haste we for it: +Yet, ere we put ourselves in arms, dispatch we +The business we have talk'd of. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +With most gladness: +And do invite you to my sister's view, +Whither straight I'll lead you. + +MARK ANTONY +Let us, Lepidus, +Not lack your company. + +LEPIDUS +Noble Antony, +Not sickness should detain me. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, and LEPIDUS + +MECAENAS +Welcome from Egypt, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Half the heart of Caesar, worthy Mecaenas! My +honourable friend, Agrippa! + +AGRIPPA +Good Enobarbus! + +MECAENAS +We have cause to be glad that matters are so well +digested. You stayed well by 't in Egypt. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, sir; we did sleep day out of countenance, and +made the night light with drinking. + +MECAENAS +Eight wild-boars roasted whole at a breakfast, and +but twelve persons there; is this true? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This was but as a fly by an eagle: we had much more +monstrous matter of feast, which worthily deserved noting. + +MECAENAS +She's a most triumphant lady, if report be square to +her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +When she first met Mark Antony, she pursed up +his heart, upon the river of Cydnus. + +AGRIPPA +There she appeared indeed; or my reporter devised +well for her. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will tell you. +The barge she sat in, like a burnish'd throne, +Burn'd on the water: the poop was beaten gold; +Purple the sails, and so perfumed that +The winds were love-sick with them; the oars were silver, +Which to the tune of flutes kept stroke, and made +The water which they beat to follow faster, +As amorous of their strokes. For her own person, +It beggar'd all description: she did lie +In her pavilion--cloth-of-gold of tissue-- +O'er-picturing that Venus where we see +The fancy outwork nature: on each side her +Stood pretty dimpled boys, like smiling Cupids, +With divers-colour'd fans, whose wind did seem +To glow the delicate cheeks which they did cool, +And what they undid did. + +AGRIPPA +O, rare for Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Her gentlewomen, like the Nereides, +So many mermaids, tended her i' the eyes, +And made their bends adornings: at the helm +A seeming mermaid steers: the silken tackle +Swell with the touches of those flower-soft hands, +That yarely frame the office. From the barge +A strange invisible perfume hits the sense +Of the adjacent wharfs. The city cast +Her people out upon her; and Antony, +Enthroned i' the market-place, did sit alone, +Whistling to the air; which, but for vacancy, +Had gone to gaze on Cleopatra too, +And made a gap in nature. + +AGRIPPA +Rare Egyptian! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Upon her landing, Antony sent to her, +Invited her to supper: she replied, +It should be better he became her guest; +Which she entreated: our courteous Antony, +Whom ne'er the word of 'No' woman heard speak, +Being barber'd ten times o'er, goes to the feast, +And for his ordinary pays his heart +For what his eyes eat only. + +AGRIPPA +Royal wench! +She made great Caesar lay his sword to bed: +He plough'd her, and she cropp'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I saw her once +Hop forty paces through the public street; +And having lost her breath, she spoke, and panted, +That she did make defect perfection, +And, breathless, power breathe forth. + +MECAENAS +Now Antony must leave her utterly. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Never; he will not: +Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale +Her infinite variety: other women cloy +The appetites they feed: but she makes hungry +Where most she satisfies; for vilest things +Become themselves in her: that the holy priests +Bless her when she is riggish. + +MECAENAS +If beauty, wisdom, modesty, can settle +The heart of Antony, Octavia is +A blessed lottery to him. + +AGRIPPA +Let us go. +Good Enobarbus, make yourself my guest +Whilst you abide here. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Humbly, sir, I thank you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, OCTAVIA between them, and Attendants +MARK ANTONY +The world and my great office will sometimes +Divide me from your bosom. + +OCTAVIA +All which time +Before the gods my knee shall bow my prayers +To them for you. + +MARK ANTONY +Good night, sir. My Octavia, +Read not my blemishes in the world's report: +I have not kept my square; but that to come +Shall all be done by the rule. Good night, dear lady. +Good night, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good night. + +Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and OCTAVIA + +Enter Soothsayer + +MARK ANTONY +Now, sirrah; you do wish yourself in Egypt? + +Soothsayer +Would I had never come from thence, nor you Thither! + +MARK ANTONY +If you can, your reason? + +Soothsayer +I see it in +My motion, have it not in my tongue: but yet +Hie you to Egypt again. + +MARK ANTONY +Say to me, +Whose fortunes shall rise higher, Caesar's or mine? + +Soothsayer +Caesar's. +Therefore, O Antony, stay not by his side: +Thy demon, that's thy spirit which keeps thee, is +Noble, courageous high, unmatchable, +Where Caesar's is not; but, near him, thy angel +Becomes a fear, as being o'erpower'd: therefore +Make space enough between you. + +MARK ANTONY +Speak this no more. + +Soothsayer +To none but thee; no more, but when to thee. +If thou dost play with him at any game, +Thou art sure to lose; and, of that natural luck, +He beats thee 'gainst the odds: thy lustre thickens, +When he shines by: I say again, thy spirit +Is all afraid to govern thee near him; +But, he away, 'tis noble. + +MARK ANTONY +Get thee gone: +Say to Ventidius I would speak with him: + +Exit Soothsayer + +He shall to Parthia. Be it art or hap, +He hath spoken true: the very dice obey him; +And in our sports my better cunning faints +Under his chance: if we draw lots, he speeds; +His cocks do win the battle still of mine, +When it is all to nought; and his quails ever +Beat mine, inhoop'd, at odds. I will to Egypt: +And though I make this marriage for my peace, +I' the east my pleasure lies. + +Enter VENTIDIUS + +O, come, Ventidius, +You must to Parthia: your commission's ready; +Follow me, and receive't. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A street. + +Enter LEPIDUS, MECAENAS, and AGRIPPA +LEPIDUS +Trouble yourselves no further: pray you, hasten +Your generals after. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, Mark Antony +Will e'en but kiss Octavia, and we'll follow. + +LEPIDUS +Till I shall see you in your soldier's dress, +Which will become you both, farewell. + +MECAENAS +We shall, +As I conceive the journey, be at the Mount +Before you, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your way is shorter; +My purposes do draw me much about: +You'll win two days upon me. + +MECAENAS AGRIPPA +Sir, good success! + +LEPIDUS +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Give me some music; music, moody food +Of us that trade in love. + +Attendants +The music, ho! + +Enter MARDIAN + +CLEOPATRA +Let it alone; let's to billiards: come, Charmian. + +CHARMIAN +My arm is sore; best play with Mardian. + +CLEOPATRA +As well a woman with an eunuch play'd +As with a woman. Come, you'll play with me, sir? + +MARDIAN +As well as I can, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +And when good will is show'd, though't come +too short, +The actor may plead pardon. I'll none now: +Give me mine angle; we'll to the river: there, +My music playing far off, I will betray +Tawny-finn'd fishes; my bended hook shall pierce +Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, +I'll think them every one an Antony, +And say 'Ah, ha! you're caught.' + +CHARMIAN +'Twas merry when +You wager'd on your angling; when your diver +Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he +With fervency drew up. + +CLEOPATRA +That time,--O times!-- +I laugh'd him out of patience; and that night +I laugh'd him into patience; and next morn, +Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; +Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst +I wore his sword Philippan. + +Enter a Messenger + +O, from Italy +Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, +That long time have been barren. + +Messenger +Madam, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, +Thou kill'st thy mistress: but well and free, +If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here +My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings +Have lipp'd, and trembled kissing. + +Messenger +First, madam, he is well. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, there's more gold. +But, sirrah, mark, we use +To say the dead are well: bring it to that, +The gold I give thee will I melt and pour +Down thy ill-uttering throat. + +Messenger +Good madam, hear me. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, go to, I will; +But there's no goodness in thy face: if Antony +Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour +To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, +Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown'd with snakes, +Not like a formal man. + +Messenger +Will't please you hear me? + +CLEOPATRA +I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak'st: +Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, +Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, +I'll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail +Rich pearls upon thee. + +Messenger +Madam, he's well. + +CLEOPATRA +Well said. + +Messenger +And friends with Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Thou'rt an honest man. + +Messenger +Caesar and he are greater friends than ever. + +CLEOPATRA +Make thee a fortune from me. + +Messenger +But yet, madam,-- + +CLEOPATRA +I do not like 'But yet,' it does allay +The good precedence; fie upon 'But yet'! +'But yet' is as a gaoler to bring forth +Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, +Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, +The good and bad together: he's friends with Caesar: +In state of health thou say'st; and thou say'st free. + +Messenger +Free, madam! no; I made no such report: +He's bound unto Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +For what good turn? + +Messenger +For the best turn i' the bed. + +CLEOPATRA +I am pale, Charmian. + +Messenger +Madam, he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +The most infectious pestilence upon thee! + +Strikes him down + +Messenger +Good madam, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +What say you? Hence, + +Strikes him again + +Horrible villain! or I'll spurn thine eyes +Like balls before me; I'll unhair thy head: + +She hales him up and down + +Thou shalt be whipp'd with wire, and stew'd in brine, +Smarting in lingering pickle. + +Messenger +Gracious madam, +I that do bring the news made not the match. + +CLEOPATRA +Say 'tis not so, a province I will give thee, +And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst +Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; +And I will boot thee with what gift beside +Thy modesty can beg. + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Rogue, thou hast lived too long. + +Draws a knife + +Messenger +Nay, then I'll run. +What mean you, madam? I have made no fault. + +Exit + +CHARMIAN +Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: +The man is innocent. + +CLEOPATRA +Some innocents 'scape not the thunderbolt. +Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures +Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: +Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call. + +CHARMIAN +He is afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +I will not hurt him. + +Exit CHARMIAN + +These hands do lack nobility, that they strike +A meaner than myself; since I myself +Have given myself the cause. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN and Messenger + +Come hither, sir. +Though it be honest, it is never good +To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. +An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell +Themselves when they be felt. + +Messenger +I have done my duty. + +CLEOPATRA +Is he married? +I cannot hate thee worser than I do, +If thou again say 'Yes.' + +Messenger +He's married, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still? + +Messenger +Should I lie, madam? + +CLEOPATRA +O, I would thou didst, +So half my Egypt were submerged and made +A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: +Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me +Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married? + +Messenger +I crave your highness' pardon. + +CLEOPATRA +He is married? + +Messenger +Take no offence that I would not offend you: +To punish me for what you make me do. +Seems much unequal: he's married to Octavia. + +CLEOPATRA +O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, +That art not what thou'rt sure of! Get thee hence: +The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome +Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, +And be undone by 'em! + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +Good your highness, patience. + +CLEOPATRA +In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar. + +CHARMIAN +Many times, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I am paid for't now. +Lead me from hence: +I faint: O Iras, Charmian! 'tis no matter. +Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him +Report the feature of Octavia, her years, +Her inclination, let him not leave out +The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly. + +Exit ALEXAS + +Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, +Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, +The other way's a Mars. Bid you Alexas + +To MARDIAN + +Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, +But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near Misenum. + +Flourish. Enter POMPEY and MENAS at one door, with drum and trumpet: at another, OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MECAENAS, with Soldiers marching +POMPEY +Your hostages I have, so have you mine; +And we shall talk before we fight. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most meet +That first we come to words; and therefore have we +Our written purposes before us sent; +Which, if thou hast consider'd, let us know +If 'twill tie up thy discontented sword, +And carry back to Sicily much tall youth +That else must perish here. + +POMPEY +To you all three, +The senators alone of this great world, +Chief factors for the gods, I do not know +Wherefore my father should revengers want, +Having a son and friends; since Julius Caesar, +Who at Philippi the good Brutus ghosted, +There saw you labouring for him. What was't +That moved pale Cassius to conspire; and what +Made the all-honour'd, honest Roman, Brutus, +With the arm'd rest, courtiers and beauteous freedom, +To drench the Capitol; but that they would +Have one man but a man? And that is it +Hath made me rig my navy; at whose burthen +The anger'd ocean foams; with which I meant +To scourge the ingratitude that despiteful Rome +Cast on my noble father. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take your time. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou canst not fear us, Pompey, with thy sails; +We'll speak with thee at sea: at land, thou know'st +How much we do o'er-count thee. + +POMPEY +At land, indeed, +Thou dost o'er-count me of my father's house: +But, since the cuckoo builds not for himself, +Remain in't as thou mayst. + +LEPIDUS +Be pleased to tell us-- +For this is from the present--how you take +The offers we have sent you. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +There's the point. + +MARK ANTONY +Which do not be entreated to, but weigh +What it is worth embraced. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +And what may follow, +To try a larger fortune. + +POMPEY +You have made me offer +Of Sicily, Sardinia; and I must +Rid all the sea of pirates; then, to send +Measures of wheat to Rome; this 'greed upon +To part with unhack'd edges, and bear back +Our targes undinted. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +That's our offer. + +POMPEY +Know, then, +I came before you here a man prepared +To take this offer: but Mark Antony +Put me to some impatience: though I lose +The praise of it by telling, you must know, +When Caesar and your brother were at blows, +Your mother came to Sicily and did find +Her welcome friendly. + +MARK ANTONY +I have heard it, Pompey; +And am well studied for a liberal thanks +Which I do owe you. + +POMPEY +Let me have your hand: +I did not think, sir, to have met you here. + +MARK ANTONY +The beds i' the east are soft; and thanks to you, +That call'd me timelier than my purpose hither; +For I have gain'd by 't. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Since I saw you last, +There is a change upon you. + +POMPEY +Well, I know not +What counts harsh fortune casts upon my face; +But in my bosom shall she never come, +To make my heart her vassal. + +LEPIDUS +Well met here. + +POMPEY +I hope so, Lepidus. Thus we are agreed: +I crave our composition may be written, +And seal'd between us. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That's the next to do. + +POMPEY +We'll feast each other ere we part; and let's +Draw lots who shall begin. + +MARK ANTONY +That will I, Pompey. + +POMPEY +No, Antony, take the lot: but, first +Or last, your fine Egyptian cookery +Shall have the fame. I have heard that Julius Caesar +Grew fat with feasting there. + +MARK ANTONY +You have heard much. + +POMPEY +I have fair meanings, sir. + +MARK ANTONY +And fair words to them. + +POMPEY +Then so much have I heard: +And I have heard, Apollodorus carried-- + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No more of that: he did so. + +POMPEY +What, I pray you? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A certain queen to Caesar in a mattress. + +POMPEY +I know thee now: how farest thou, soldier? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well; +And well am like to do; for, I perceive, +Four feasts are toward. + +POMPEY +Let me shake thy hand; +I never hated thee: I have seen thee fight, +When I have envied thy behavior. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Sir, +I never loved you much; but I ha' praised ye, +When you have well deserved ten times as much +As I have said you did. + +POMPEY +Enjoy thy plainness, +It nothing ill becomes thee. +Aboard my galley I invite you all: +Will you lead, lords? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR MARK ANTONY LEPIDUS +Show us the way, sir. + +POMPEY +Come. + +Exeunt all but MENAS and ENOBARBUS + +MENAS +[Aside] Thy father, Pompey, would ne'er have +made this treaty.--You and I have known, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +At sea, I think. + +MENAS +We have, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +You have done well by water. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I will praise any man that will praise me; though it +cannot be denied what I have done by land. + +MENAS +Nor what I have done by water. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Yes, something you can deny for your own +safety: you have been a great thief by sea. + +MENAS +And you by land. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There I deny my land service. But give me your +hand, Menas: if our eyes had authority, here they +might take two thieves kissing. + +MENAS +All men's faces are true, whatsome'er their hands are. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But there is never a fair woman has a true face. + +MENAS +No slander; they steal hearts. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +We came hither to fight with you. + +MENAS +For my part, I am sorry it is turned to a drinking. +Pompey doth this day laugh away his fortune. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If he do, sure, he cannot weep't back again. + +MENAS +You've said, sir. We looked not for Mark Antony +here: pray you, is he married to Cleopatra? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar's sister is called Octavia. + +MENAS +True, sir; she was the wife of Caius Marcellus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But she is now the wife of Marcus Antonius. + +MENAS +Pray ye, sir? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Tis true. + +MENAS +Then is Caesar and he for ever knit together. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +If I were bound to divine of this unity, I would +not prophesy so. + +MENAS +I think the policy of that purpose made more in the +marriage than the love of the parties. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I think so too. But you shall find, the band that +seems to tie their friendship together will be the +very strangler of their amity: Octavia is of a +holy, cold, and still conversation. + +MENAS +Who would not have his wife so? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not he that himself is not so; which is Mark Antony. +He will to his Egyptian dish again: then shall the +sighs of Octavia blow the fire up in Caesar; and, as +I said before, that which is the strength of their +amity shall prove the immediate author of their +variance. Antony will use his affection where it is: +he married but his occasion here. + +MENAS +And thus it may be. Come, sir, will you aboard? +I have a health for you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I shall take it, sir: we have used our throats in Egypt. + +MENAS +Come, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. On board POMPEY's galley, off Misenum. + +Music plays. Enter two or three Servants with a banquet +First Servant +Here they'll be, man. Some o' their plants are +ill-rooted already: the least wind i' the world +will blow them down. + +Second Servant +Lepidus is high-coloured. + +First Servant +They have made him drink alms-drink. + +Second Servant +As they pinch one another by the disposition, he +cries out 'No more;' reconciles them to his +entreaty, and himself to the drink. + +First Servant +But it raises the greater war between him and +his discretion. + +Second Servant +Why, this is to have a name in great men's +fellowship: I had as lief have a reed that will do +me no service as a partisan I could not heave. + +First Servant +To be called into a huge sphere, and not to be seen +to move in't, are the holes where eyes should be, +which pitifully disaster the cheeks. + +A sennet sounded. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POMPEY, AGRIPPA, MECAENAS, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, MENAS, with other captains + +MARK ANTONY +[To OCTAVIUS CAESAR] Thus do they, sir: they take +the flow o' the Nile +By certain scales i' the pyramid; they know, +By the height, the lowness, or the mean, if dearth +Or foison follow: the higher Nilus swells, +The more it promises: as it ebbs, the seedsman +Upon the slime and ooze scatters his grain, +And shortly comes to harvest. + +LEPIDUS +You've strange serpents there. + +MARK ANTONY +Ay, Lepidus. + +LEPIDUS +Your serpent of Egypt is bred now of your mud by the +operation of your sun: so is your crocodile. + +MARK ANTONY +They are so. + +POMPEY +Sit,--and some wine! A health to Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +I am not so well as I should be, but I'll ne'er out. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Not till you have slept; I fear me you'll be in till then. + +LEPIDUS +Nay, certainly, I have heard the Ptolemies' +pyramises are very goodly things; without +contradiction, I have heard that. + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Pompey, a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Say in mine ear: +what is't? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] Forsake thy seat, I do beseech +thee, captain, +And hear me speak a word. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Forbear me till anon. +This wine for Lepidus! + +LEPIDUS +What manner o' thing is your crocodile? + +MARK ANTONY +It is shaped, sir, like itself; and it is as broad +as it hath breadth: it is just so high as it is, +and moves with its own organs: it lives by that +which nourisheth it; and the elements once out of +it, it transmigrates. + +LEPIDUS +What colour is it of? + +MARK ANTONY +Of it own colour too. + +LEPIDUS +'Tis a strange serpent. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis so. And the tears of it are wet. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Will this description satisfy him? + +MARK ANTONY +With the health that Pompey gives him, else he is a +very epicure. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] Go hang, sir, hang! Tell me of +that? away! +Do as I bid you. Where's this cup I call'd for? + +MENAS +[Aside to POMPEY] If for the sake of merit thou +wilt hear me, +Rise from thy stool. + +POMPEY +[Aside to MENAS] I think thou'rt mad. +The matter? + +Rises, and walks aside + +MENAS +I have ever held my cap off to thy fortunes. + +POMPEY +Thou hast served me with much faith. What's else to say? +Be jolly, lords. + +MARK ANTONY +These quick-sands, Lepidus, +Keep off them, for you sink. + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of all the world? + +POMPEY +What say'st thou? + +MENAS +Wilt thou be lord of the whole world? That's twice. + +POMPEY +How should that be? + +MENAS +But entertain it, +And, though thou think me poor, I am the man +Will give thee all the world. + +POMPEY +Hast thou drunk well? + +MENAS +Now, Pompey, I have kept me from the cup. +Thou art, if thou darest be, the earthly Jove: +Whate'er the ocean pales, or sky inclips, +Is thine, if thou wilt ha't. + +POMPEY +Show me which way. + +MENAS +These three world-sharers, these competitors, +Are in thy vessel: let me cut the cable; +And, when we are put off, fall to their throats: +All there is thine. + +POMPEY +Ah, this thou shouldst have done, +And not have spoke on't! In me 'tis villany; +In thee't had been good service. Thou must know, +'Tis not my profit that does lead mine honour; +Mine honour, it. Repent that e'er thy tongue +Hath so betray'd thine act: being done unknown, +I should have found it afterwards well done; +But must condemn it now. Desist, and drink. + +MENAS +[Aside] For this, +I'll never follow thy pall'd fortunes more. +Who seeks, and will not take when once 'tis offer'd, +Shall never find it more. + +POMPEY +This health to Lepidus! + +MARK ANTONY +Bear him ashore. I'll pledge it for him, Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Here's to thee, Menas! + +MENAS +Enobarbus, welcome! + +POMPEY +Fill till the cup be hid. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +There's a strong fellow, Menas. + +Pointing to the Attendant who carries off LEPIDUS + +MENAS +Why? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A' bears the third part of the world, man; see'st +not? + +MENAS +The third part, then, is drunk: would it were all, +That it might go on wheels! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Drink thou; increase the reels. + +MENAS +Come. + +POMPEY +This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. + +MARK ANTONY +It ripens towards it. Strike the vessels, ho? +Here is to Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I could well forbear't. +It's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, +And it grows fouler. + +MARK ANTONY +Be a child o' the time. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Possess it, I'll make answer: +But I had rather fast from all four days +Than drink so much in one. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ha, my brave emperor! + +To MARK ANTONY + +Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals, +And celebrate our drink? + +POMPEY +Let's ha't, good soldier. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, let's all take hands, +Till that the conquering wine hath steep'd our sense +In soft and delicate Lethe. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +All take hands. +Make battery to our ears with the loud music: +The while I'll place you: then the boy shall sing; +The holding every man shall bear as loud +As his strong sides can volley. + +Music plays. DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS places them hand in hand + +THE SONG. +Come, thou monarch of the vine, +Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne! +In thy fats our cares be drown'd, +With thy grapes our hairs be crown'd: +Cup us, till the world go round, +Cup us, till the world go round! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What would you more? Pompey, good night. Good brother, +Let me request you off: our graver business +Frowns at this levity. Gentle lords, let's part; +You see we have burnt our cheeks: strong Enobarb +Is weaker than the wine; and mine own tongue +Splits what it speaks: the wild disguise hath almost +Antick'd us all. What needs more words? Good night. +Good Antony, your hand. + +POMPEY +I'll try you on the shore. + +MARK ANTONY +And shall, sir; give's your hand. + +POMPEY +O Antony, +You have my father's house,--But, what? we are friends. +Come, down into the boat. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Take heed you fall not. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and MENAS + +Menas, I'll not on shore. + +MENAS +No, to my cabin. +These drums! these trumpets, flutes! what! +Let Neptune hear we bid a loud farewell +To these great fellows: sound and be hang'd, sound out! + +Sound a flourish, with drums + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ho! says a' There's my cap. + +MENAS +Ho! Noble captain, come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A plain in Syria. + +Enter VENTIDIUS as it were in triumph, with SILIUS, and other Romans, Officers, and Soldiers; the dead body of PACORUS borne before him +VENTIDIUS +Now, darting Parthia, art thou struck; and now +Pleased fortune does of Marcus Crassus' death +Make me revenger. Bear the king's son's body +Before our army. Thy Pacorus, Orodes, +Pays this for Marcus Crassus. + +SILIUS +Noble Ventidius, +Whilst yet with Parthian blood thy sword is warm, +The fugitive Parthians follow; spur through Media, +Mesopotamia, and the shelters whither +The routed fly: so thy grand captain Antony +Shall set thee on triumphant chariots and +Put garlands on thy head. + +VENTIDIUS +O Silius, Silius, +I have done enough; a lower place, note well, +May make too great an act: for learn this, Silius; +Better to leave undone, than by our deed +Acquire too high a fame when him we serve's away. +Caesar and Antony have ever won +More in their officer than person: Sossius, +One of my place in Syria, his lieutenant, +For quick accumulation of renown, +Which he achieved by the minute, lost his favour. +Who does i' the wars more than his captain can +Becomes his captain's captain: and ambition, +The soldier's virtue, rather makes choice of loss, +Than gain which darkens him. +I could do more to do Antonius good, +But 'twould offend him; and in his offence +Should my performance perish. + +SILIUS +Thou hast, Ventidius, +that +Without the which a soldier, and his sword, +Grants scarce distinction. Thou wilt write to Antony! + +VENTIDIUS +I'll humbly signify what in his name, +That magical word of war, we have effected; +How, with his banners and his well-paid ranks, +The ne'er-yet-beaten horse of Parthia +We have jaded out o' the field. + +SILIUS +Where is he now? + +VENTIDIUS +He purposeth to Athens: whither, with what haste +The weight we must convey with's will permit, +We shall appear before him. On there; pass along! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rome. An ante-chamber in OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter AGRIPPA at one door, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS at another +AGRIPPA +What, are the brothers parted? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They have dispatch'd with Pompey, he is gone; +The other three are sealing. Octavia weeps +To part from Rome; Caesar is sad; and Lepidus, +Since Pompey's feast, as Menas says, is troubled +With the green sickness. + +AGRIPPA +'Tis a noble Lepidus. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +A very fine one: O, how he loves Caesar! + +AGRIPPA +Nay, but how dearly he adores Mark Antony! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Caesar? Why, he's the Jupiter of men. + +AGRIPPA +What's Antony? The god of Jupiter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Spake you of Caesar? How! the non-pareil! + +AGRIPPA +O Antony! O thou Arabian bird! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Would you praise Caesar, say 'Caesar:' go no further. + +AGRIPPA +Indeed, he plied them both with excellent praises. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But he loves Caesar best; yet he loves Antony: +Ho! hearts, tongues, figures, scribes, bards, +poets, cannot +Think, speak, cast, write, sing, number, ho! +His love to Antony. But as for Caesar, +Kneel down, kneel down, and wonder. + +AGRIPPA +Both he loves. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +They are his shards, and he their beetle. + +Trumpets within + +So; +This is to horse. Adieu, noble Agrippa. + +AGRIPPA +Good fortune, worthy soldier; and farewell. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, MARK ANTONY, LEPIDUS, and OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +No further, sir. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You take from me a great part of myself; +Use me well in 't. Sister, prove such a wife +As my thoughts make thee, and as my farthest band +Shall pass on thy approof. Most noble Antony, +Let not the piece of virtue, which is set +Betwixt us as the cement of our love, +To keep it builded, be the ram to batter +The fortress of it; for better might we +Have loved without this mean, if on both parts +This be not cherish'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Make me not offended +In your distrust. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have said. + +MARK ANTONY +You shall not find, +Though you be therein curious, the least cause +For what you seem to fear: so, the gods keep you, +And make the hearts of Romans serve your ends! +We will here part. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, my dearest sister, fare thee well: +The elements be kind to thee, and make +Thy spirits all of comfort! fare thee well. + +OCTAVIA +My noble brother! + +MARK ANTONY +The April 's in her eyes: it is love's spring, +And these the showers to bring it on. Be cheerful. + +OCTAVIA +Sir, look well to my husband's house; and-- + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What, Octavia? + +OCTAVIA +I'll tell you in your ear. + +MARK ANTONY +Her tongue will not obey her heart, nor can +Her heart inform her tongue,--the swan's +down-feather, +That stands upon the swell at full of tide, +And neither way inclines. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] Will Caesar weep? + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] He has a cloud in 's face. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] He were the worse for that, +were he a horse; +So is he, being a man. + +AGRIPPA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] Why, Enobarbus, +When Antony found Julius Caesar dead, +He cried almost to roaring; and he wept +When at Philippi he found Brutus slain. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to AGRIPPA] That year, indeed, he was +troubled with a rheum; +What willingly he did confound he wail'd, +Believe't, till I wept too. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, sweet Octavia, +You shall hear from me still; the time shall not +Out-go my thinking on you. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, sir, come; +I'll wrestle with you in my strength of love: +Look, here I have you; thus I let you go, +And give you to the gods. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Adieu; be happy! + +LEPIDUS +Let all the number of the stars give light +To thy fair way! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Farewell, fa rewell! + +Kisses OCTAVIA + +MARK ANTONY +Farewell! + +Trumpets sound. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and ALEXAS +CLEOPATRA +Where is the fellow? + +ALEXAS +Half afeard to come. + +CLEOPATRA +Go to, go to. + +Enter the Messenger as before + +Come hither, sir. + +ALEXAS +Good majesty, +Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you +But when you are well pleased. + +CLEOPATRA +That Herod's head +I'll have: but how, when Antony is gone +Through whom I might command it? Come thou near. + +Messenger +Most gracious majesty,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Didst thou behold Octavia? + +Messenger +Ay, dread queen. + +CLEOPATRA +Where? + +Messenger +Madam, in Rome; +I look'd her in the face, and saw her led +Between her brother and Mark Antony. + +CLEOPATRA +Is she as tall as me? + +Messenger +She is not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +Didst hear her speak? is she shrill-tongued or low? + +Messenger +Madam, I heard her speak; she is low-voiced. + +CLEOPATRA +That's not so good: he cannot like her long. + +CHARMIAN +Like her! O Isis! 'tis impossible. + +CLEOPATRA +I think so, Charmian: dull of tongue, and dwarfish! +What majesty is in her gait? Remember, +If e'er thou look'dst on majesty. + +Messenger +She creeps: +Her motion and her station are as one; +She shows a body rather than a life, +A statue than a breather. + +CLEOPATRA +Is this certain? + +Messenger +Or I have no observance. + +CHARMIAN +Three in Egypt +Cannot make better note. + +CLEOPATRA +He's very knowing; +I do perceive't: there's nothing in her yet: +The fellow has good judgment. + +CHARMIAN +Excellent. + +CLEOPATRA +Guess at her years, I prithee. + +Messenger +Madam, +She was a widow,-- + +CLEOPATRA +Widow! Charmian, hark. + +Messenger +And I do think she's thirty. + +CLEOPATRA +Bear'st thou her face in mind? is't long or round? + +Messenger +Round even to faultiness. + +CLEOPATRA +For the most part, too, they are foolish that are so. +Her hair, what colour? + +Messenger +Brown, madam: and her forehead +As low as she would wish it. + +CLEOPATRA +There's gold for thee. +Thou must not take my former sharpness ill: +I will employ thee back again; I find thee +Most fit for business: go make thee ready; +Our letters are prepared. + +Exit Messenger + +CHARMIAN +A proper man. + +CLEOPATRA +Indeed, he is so: I repent me much +That so I harried him. Why, methinks, by him, +This creature's no such thing. + +CHARMIAN +Nothing, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +The man hath seen some majesty, and should know. + +CHARMIAN +Hath he seen majesty? Isis else defend, +And serving you so long! + +CLEOPATRA +I have one thing more to ask him yet, good Charmian: +But 'tis no matter; thou shalt bring him to me +Where I will write. All may be well enough. + +CHARMIAN +I warrant you, madam. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Athens. A room in MARK ANTONY's house. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and OCTAVIA +MARK ANTONY +Nay, nay, Octavia, not only that,-- +That were excusable, that, and thousands more +Of semblable import,--but he hath waged +New wars 'gainst Pompey; made his will, and read it +To public ear: +Spoke scantly of me: when perforce he could not +But pay me terms of honour, cold and sickly +He vented them; most narrow measure lent me: +When the best hint was given him, he not took't, +Or did it from his teeth. + +OCTAVIA +O my good lord, +Believe not all; or, if you must believe, +Stomach not all. A more unhappy lady, +If this division chance, ne'er stood between, +Praying for both parts: +The good gods me presently, +When I shall pray, 'O bless my lord and husband!' +Undo that prayer, by crying out as loud, +'O, bless my brother!' Husband win, win brother, +Prays, and destroys the prayer; no midway +'Twixt these extremes at all. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle Octavia, +Let your best love draw to that point, which seeks +Best to preserve it: if I lose mine honour, +I lose myself: better I were not yours +Than yours so branchless. But, as you requested, +Yourself shall go between 's: the mean time, lady, +I'll raise the preparation of a war +Shall stain your brother: make your soonest haste; +So your desires are yours. + +OCTAVIA +Thanks to my lord. +The Jove of power make me most weak, most weak, +Your reconciler! Wars 'twixt you twain would be +As if the world should cleave, and that slain men +Should solder up the rift. + +MARK ANTONY +When it appears to you where this begins, +Turn your displeasure that way: for our faults +Can never be so equal, that your love +Can equally move with them. Provide your going; +Choose your own company, and command what cost +Your heart has mind to. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. Another room. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS and EROS, meeting +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How now, friend Eros! + +EROS +There's strange news come, sir. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What, man? + +EROS +Caesar and Lepidus have made wars upon Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +This is old: what is the success? + +EROS +Caesar, having made use of him in the wars 'gainst +Pompey, presently denied him rivality; would not let +him partake in the glory of the action: and not +resting here, accuses him of letters he had formerly +wrote to Pompey; upon his own appeal, seizes him: so +the poor third is up, till death enlarge his confine. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Then, world, thou hast a pair of chaps, no more; +And throw between them all the food thou hast, +They'll grind the one the other. Where's Antony? + +EROS +He's walking in the garden--thus; and spurns +The rush that lies before him; cries, 'Fool Lepidus!' +And threats the throat of that his officer +That murder'd Pompey. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Our great navy's rigg'd. + +EROS +For Italy and Caesar. More, Domitius; +My lord desires you presently: my news +I might have told hereafter. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +'Twill be naught: +But let it be. Bring me to Antony. + +EROS +Come, sir. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's house. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Contemning Rome, he has done all this, and more, +In Alexandria: here's the manner of 't: +I' the market-place, on a tribunal silver'd, +Cleopatra and himself in chairs of gold +Were publicly enthroned: at the feet sat +Caesarion, whom they call my father's son, +And all the unlawful issue that their lust +Since then hath made between them. Unto her +He gave the stablishment of Egypt; made her +Of lower Syria, Cyprus, Lydia, +Absolute queen. + +MECAENAS +This in the public eye? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I' the common show-place, where they exercise. +His sons he there proclaim'd the kings of kings: +Great Media, Parthia, and Armenia. +He gave to Alexander; to Ptolemy he assign'd +Syria, Cilicia, and Phoenicia: she +In the habiliments of the goddess Isis +That day appear'd; and oft before gave audience, +As 'tis reported, so. + +MECAENAS +Let Rome be thus Inform'd. + +AGRIPPA +Who, queasy with his insolence +Already, will their good thoughts call from him. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The people know it; and have now received +His accusations. + +AGRIPPA +Who does he accuse? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Caesar: and that, having in Sicily +Sextus Pompeius spoil'd, we had not rated him +His part o' the isle: then does he say, he lent me +Some shipping unrestored: lastly, he frets +That Lepidus of the triumvirate +Should be deposed; and, being, that we detain +All his revenue. + +AGRIPPA +Sir, this should be answer'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +'Tis done already, and the messenger gone. +I have told him, Lepidus was grown too cruel; +That he his high authority abused, +And did deserve his change: for what I have conquer'd, +I grant him part; but then, in his Armenia, +And other of his conquer'd kingdoms, I +Demand the like. + +MECAENAS +He'll never yield to that. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nor must not then be yielded to in this. + +Enter OCTAVIA with her train + +OCTAVIA +Hail, Caesar, and my lord! hail, most dear Caesar! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +That ever I should call thee castaway! + +OCTAVIA +You have not call'd me so, nor have you cause. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Why have you stol'n upon us thus! You come not +Like Caesar's sister: the wife of Antony +Should have an army for an usher, and +The neighs of horse to tell of her approach +Long ere she did appear; the trees by the way +Should have borne men; and expectation fainted, +Longing for what it had not; nay, the dust +Should have ascended to the roof of heaven, +Raised by your populous troops: but you are come +A market-maid to Rome; and have prevented +The ostentation of our love, which, left unshown, +Is often left unloved; we should have met you +By sea and land; supplying every stage +With an augmented greeting. + +OCTAVIA +Good my lord, +To come thus was I not constrain'd, but did +On my free will. My lord, Mark Antony, +Hearing that you prepared for war, acquainted +My grieved ear withal; whereon, I begg'd +His pardon for return. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which soon he granted, +Being an obstruct 'tween his lust and him. + +OCTAVIA +Do not say so, my lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +I have eyes upon him, +And his affairs come to me on the wind. +Where is he now? + +OCTAVIA +My lord, in Athens. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +No, my most wronged sister; Cleopatra +Hath nodded him to her. He hath given his empire +Up to a whore; who now are levying +The kings o' the earth for war; he hath assembled +Bocchus, the king of Libya; Archelaus, +Of Cappadocia; Philadelphos, king +Of Paphlagonia; the Thracian king, Adallas; +King Malchus of Arabia; King of Pont; +Herod of Jewry; Mithridates, king +Of Comagene; Polemon and Amyntas, +The kings of Mede and Lycaonia, +With a more larger list of sceptres. + +OCTAVIA +Ay me, most wretched, +That have my heart parted betwixt two friends +That do afflict each other! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Welcome hither: +Your letters did withhold our breaking forth; +Till we perceived, both how you were wrong led, +And we in negligent danger. Cheer your heart; +Be you not troubled with the time, which drives +O'er your content these strong necessities; +But let determined things to destiny +Hold unbewail'd their way. Welcome to Rome; +Nothing more dear to me. You are abused +Beyond the mark of thought: and the high gods, +To do you justice, make them ministers +Of us and those that love you. Best of comfort; +And ever welcome to us. + +AGRIPPA +Welcome, lady. + +MECAENAS +Welcome, dear madam. +Each heart in Rome does love and pity you: +Only the adulterous Antony, most large +In his abominations, turns you off; +And gives his potent regiment to a trull, +That noises it against us. + +OCTAVIA +Is it so, sir? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most certain. Sister, welcome: pray you, +Be ever known to patience: my dear'st sister! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Near Actium. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +CLEOPATRA +I will be even with thee, doubt it not. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +But why, why, why? + +CLEOPATRA +Thou hast forspoke my being in these wars, +And say'st it is not fit. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Well, is it, is it? + +CLEOPATRA +If not denounced against us, why should not we +Be there in person? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Well, I could reply: +If we should serve with horse and mares together, +The horse were merely lost; the mares would bear +A soldier and his horse. + +CLEOPATRA +What is't you say? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your presence needs must puzzle Antony; +Take from his heart, take from his brain, +from's time, +What should not then be spared. He is already +Traduced for levity; and 'tis said in Rome +That Photinus an eunuch and your maids +Manage this war. + +CLEOPATRA +Sink Rome, and their tongues rot +That speak against us! A charge we bear i' the war, +And, as the president of my kingdom, will +Appear there for a man. Speak not against it: +I will not stay behind. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Nay, I have done. +Here comes the emperor. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CANIDIUS + +MARK ANTONY +Is it not strange, Canidius, +That from Tarentum and Brundusium +He could so quickly cut the Ionian sea, +And take in Toryne? You have heard on't, sweet? + +CLEOPATRA +Celerity is never more admired +Than by the negligent. + +MARK ANTONY +A good rebuke, +Which might have well becomed the best of men, +To taunt at slackness. Canidius, we +Will fight with him by sea. + +CLEOPATRA +By sea! what else? + +CANIDIUS +Why will my lord do so? + +MARK ANTONY +For that he dares us to't. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +So hath my lord dared him to single fight. + +CANIDIUS +Ay, and to wage this battle at Pharsalia. +Where Caesar fought with Pompey: but these offers, +Which serve not for his vantage, be shakes off; +And so should you. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Your ships are not well mann'd; +Your mariners are muleters, reapers, people +Ingross'd by swift impress; in Caesar's fleet +Are those that often have 'gainst Pompey fought: +Their ships are yare; yours, heavy: no disgrace +Shall fall you for refusing him at sea, +Being prepared for land. + +MARK ANTONY +By sea, by sea. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Most worthy sir, you therein throw away +The absolute soldiership you have by land; +Distract your army, which doth most consist +Of war-mark'd footmen; leave unexecuted +Your own renowned knowledge; quite forego +The way which promises assurance; and +Give up yourself merely to chance and hazard, +From firm security. + +MARK ANTONY +I'll fight at sea. + +CLEOPATRA +I have sixty sails, Caesar none better. + +MARK ANTONY +Our overplus of shipping will we burn; +And, with the rest full-mann'd, from the head of Actium +Beat the approaching Caesar. But if we fail, +We then can do't at land. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy business? + +Messenger +The news is true, my lord; he is descried; +Caesar has taken Toryne. + +MARK ANTONY +Can he be there in person? 'tis impossible; +Strange that power should be. Canidius, +Our nineteen legions thou shalt hold by land, +And our twelve thousand horse. We'll to our ship: +Away, my Thetis! + +Enter a Soldier + +How now, worthy soldier? + +Soldier +O noble emperor, do not fight by sea; +Trust not to rotten planks: do you misdoubt +This sword and these my wounds? Let the Egyptians +And the Phoenicians go a-ducking; we +Have used to conquer, standing on the earth, +And fighting foot to foot. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well: away! + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, QUEEN CLEOPATRA, and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +Soldier +By Hercules, I think I am i' the right. + +CANIDIUS +Soldier, thou art: but his whole action grows +Not in the power on't: so our leader's led, +And we are women's men. + +Soldier +You keep by land +The legions and the horse whole, do you not? + +CANIDIUS +Marcus Octavius, Marcus Justeius, +Publicola, and Caelius, are for sea: +But we keep whole by land. This speed of Caesar's +Carries beyond belief. + +Soldier +While he was yet in Rome, +His power went out in such distractions as +Beguiled all spies. + +CANIDIUS +Who's his lieutenant, hear you? + +Soldier +They say, one Taurus. + +CANIDIUS +Well I know the man. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The emperor calls Canidius. + +CANIDIUS +With news the time's with labour, and throes forth, +Each minute, some. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A plain near Actium. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and TAURUS, with his army, marching +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Taurus! + +TAURUS +My lord? + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Strike not by land; keep whole: provoke not battle, +Till we have done at sea. Do not exceed +The prescript of this scroll: our fortune lies +Upon this jump. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. Another part of the plain. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +MARK ANTONY +Set we our squadrons on yond side o' the hill, +In eye of Caesar's battle; from which place +We may the number of the ships behold, +And so proceed accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. Another part of the plain. + +CANIDIUS marcheth with his land army one way over the stage; and TAURUS, the lieutenant of OCTAVIUS CAESAR, the other way. After their going in, is heard the noise of a sea-fight + +Alarum. Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Naught, naught all, naught! I can behold no longer: +The Antoniad, the Egyptian admiral, +With all their sixty, fly and turn the rudder: +To see't mine eyes are blasted. + +Enter SCARUS + +SCARUS +Gods and goddesses, +All the whole synod of them! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What's thy passion! + +SCARUS +The greater cantle of the world is lost +With very ignorance; we have kiss'd away +Kingdoms and provinces. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +How appears the fight? + +SCARUS +On our side like the token'd pestilence, +Where death is sure. Yon ribaudred nag of Egypt,-- +Whom leprosy o'ertake!--i' the midst o' the fight, +When vantage like a pair of twins appear'd, +Both as the same, or rather ours the elder, +The breese upon her, like a cow in June, +Hoists sails and flies. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +That I beheld: +Mine eyes did sicken at the sight, and could not +Endure a further view. + +SCARUS +She once being loof'd, +The noble ruin of her magic, Antony, +Claps on his sea-wing, and, like a doting mallard, +Leaving the fight in height, flies after her: +I never saw an action of such shame; +Experience, manhood, honour, ne'er before +Did violate so itself. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alack, alack! + +Enter CANIDIUS + +CANIDIUS +Our fortune on the sea is out of breath, +And sinks most lamentably. Had our general +Been what he knew himself, it had gone well: +O, he has given example for our flight, +Most grossly, by his own! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Ay, are you thereabouts? +Why, then, good night indeed. + +CANIDIUS +Toward Peloponnesus are they fled. + +SCARUS +'Tis easy to't; and there I will attend +What further comes. + +CANIDIUS +To Caesar will I render +My legions and my horse: six kings already +Show me the way of yielding. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll yet follow +The wounded chance of Antony, though my reason +Sits in the wind against me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with Attendants +MARK ANTONY +Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon't; +It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither: +I am so lated in the world, that I +Have lost my way for ever: I have a ship +Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly, +And make your peace with Caesar. + +All +Fly! not we. + +MARK ANTONY +I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards +To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone; +I have myself resolved upon a course +Which has no need of you; be gone: +My treasure's in the harbour, take it. O, +I follow'd that I blush to look upon: +My very hairs do mutiny; for the white +Reprove the brown for rashness, and they them +For fear and doting. Friends, be gone: you shall +Have letters from me to some friends that will +Sweep your way for you. Pray you, look not sad, +Nor make replies of loathness: take the hint +Which my despair proclaims; let that be left +Which leaves itself: to the sea-side straightway: +I will possess you of that ship and treasure. +Leave me, I pray, a little: pray you now: +Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command, +Therefore I pray you: I'll see you by and by. + +Sits down + +Enter CLEOPATRA led by CHARMIAN and IRAS; EROS following + +EROS +Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him. + +IRAS +Do, most dear queen. + +CHARMIAN +Do! why: what else? + +CLEOPATRA +Let me sit down. O Juno! + +MARK ANTONY +No, no, no, no, no. + +EROS +See you here, sir? + +MARK ANTONY +O fie, fie, fie! + +CHARMIAN +Madam! + +IRAS +Madam, O good empress! + +EROS +Sir, sir,-- + +MARK ANTONY +Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept +His sword e'en like a dancer; while I struck +The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and 'twas I +That the mad Brutus ended: he alone +Dealt on lieutenantry, and no practise had +In the brave squares of war: yet now--No matter. + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, stand by. + +EROS +The queen, my lord, the queen. + +IRAS +Go to him, madam, speak to him: +He is unqualitied with very shame. + +CLEOPATRA +Well then, sustain him: O! + +EROS +Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches: +Her head's declined, and death will seize her, but +Your comfort makes the rescue. + +MARK ANTONY +I have offended reputation, +A most unnoble swerving. + +EROS +Sir, the queen. + +MARK ANTONY +O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See, +How I convey my shame out of thine eyes +By looking back what I have left behind +'Stroy'd in dishonour. + +CLEOPATRA +O my lord, my lord, +Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought +You would have follow'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Egypt, thou knew'st too well +My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings, +And thou shouldst tow me after: o'er my spirit +Thy full supremacy thou knew'st, and that +Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods +Command me. + +CLEOPATRA +O, my pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Now I must +To the young man send humble treaties, dodge +And palter in the shifts of lowness; who +With half the bulk o' the world play'd as I pleased, +Making and marring fortunes. You did know +How much you were my conqueror; and that +My sword, made weak by my affection, would +Obey it on all cause. + +CLEOPATRA +Pardon, pardon! + +MARK ANTONY +Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates +All that is won and lost: give me a kiss; +Even this repays me. We sent our schoolmaster; +Is he come back? Love, I am full of lead. +Some wine, within there, and our viands! Fortune knows +We scorn her most when most she offers blows. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Egypt. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, DOLABELLA, THYREUS, with others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him appear that's come from Antony. +Know you him? + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, 'tis his schoolmaster: +An argument that he is pluck'd, when hither +He sends so poor a pinion off his wing, +Which had superfluous kings for messengers +Not many moons gone by. + +Enter EUPHRONIUS, ambassador from MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Approach, and speak. + +EUPHRONIUS +Such as I am, I come from Antony: +I was of late as petty to his ends +As is the morn-dew on the myrtle-leaf +To his grand sea. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Be't so: declare thine office. + +EUPHRONIUS +Lord of his fortunes he salutes thee, and +Requires to live in Egypt: which not granted, +He lessens his requests; and to thee sues +To let him breathe between the heavens and earth, +A private man in Athens: this for him. +Next, Cleopatra does confess thy greatness; +Submits her to thy might; and of thee craves +The circle of the Ptolemies for her heirs, +Now hazarded to thy grace. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +For Antony, +I have no ears to his request. The queen +Of audience nor desire shall fail, so she +From Egypt drive her all-disgraced friend, +Or take his life there: this if she perform, +She shall not sue unheard. So to them both. + +EUPHRONIUS +Fortune pursue thee! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bring him through the bands. + +Exit EUPHRONIUS + +To THYREUS + +From Antony win Cleopatra: promise, +And in our name, what she requires; add more, +From thine invention, offers: women are not +In their best fortunes strong; but want will perjure +The ne'er touch'd vestal: try thy cunning, Thyreus; +Make thine own edict for thy pains, which we +Will answer as a law. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I go. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Observe how Antony becomes his flaw, +And what thou think'st his very action speaks +In every power that moves. + +THYREUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +What shall we do, Enobarbus? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Think, and die. + +CLEOPATRA +Is Antony or we in fault for this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Antony only, that would make his will +Lord of his reason. What though you fled +From that great face of war, whose several ranges +Frighted each other? why should he follow? +The itch of his affection should not then +Have nick'd his captainship; at such a point, +When half to half the world opposed, he being +The meered question: 'twas a shame no less +Than was his loss, to course your flying flags, +And leave his navy gazing. + +CLEOPATRA +Prithee, peace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY with EUPHRONIUS, the Ambassador + +MARK ANTONY +Is that his answer? + +EUPHRONIUS +Ay, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +The queen shall then have courtesy, so she +Will yield us up. + +EUPHRONIUS +He says so. + +MARK ANTONY +Let her know't. +To the boy Caesar send this grizzled head, +And he will fill thy wishes to the brim +With principalities. + +CLEOPATRA +That head, my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +To him again: tell him he wears the rose +Of youth upon him; from which the world should note +Something particular: his coin, ships, legions, +May be a coward's; whose ministers would prevail +Under the service of a child as soon +As i' the command of Caesar: I dare him therefore +To lay his gay comparisons apart, +And answer me declined, sword against sword, +Ourselves alone. I'll write it: follow me. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY and EUPHRONIUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Yes, like enough, high-battled Caesar will +Unstate his happiness, and be staged to the show, +Against a sworder! I see men's judgments are +A parcel of their fortunes; and things outward +Do draw the inward quality after them, +To suffer all alike. That he should dream, +Knowing all measures, the full Caesar will +Answer his emptiness! Caesar, thou hast subdued +His judgment too. + +Enter an Attendant + +Attendant +A messenger from CAESAR. + +CLEOPATRA +What, no more ceremony? See, my women! +Against the blown rose may they stop their nose +That kneel'd unto the buds. Admit him, sir. + +Exit Attendant + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] Mine honesty and I begin to square. +The loyalty well held to fools does make +Our faith mere folly: yet he that can endure +To follow with allegiance a fall'n lord +Does conquer him that did his master conquer +And earns a place i' the story. + +Enter THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Caesar's will? + +THYREUS +Hear it apart. + +CLEOPATRA +None but friends: say boldly. + +THYREUS +So, haply, are they friends to Antony. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He needs as many, sir, as Caesar has; +Or needs not us. If Caesar please, our master +Will leap to be his friend: for us, you know, +Whose he is we are, and that is, Caesar's. + +THYREUS +So. +Thus then, thou most renown'd: Caesar entreats, +Not to consider in what case thou stand'st, +Further than he is Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Go on: right royal. + +THYREUS +He knows that you embrace not Antony +As you did love, but as you fear'd him. + +CLEOPATRA +O! + +THYREUS +The scars upon your honour, therefore, he +Does pity, as constrained blemishes, +Not as deserved. + +CLEOPATRA +He is a god, and knows +What is most right: mine honour was not yielded, +But conquer'd merely. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] To be sure of that, +I will ask Antony. Sir, sir, thou art so leaky, +That we must leave thee to thy sinking, for +Thy dearest quit thee. + +Exit + +THYREUS +Shall I say to Caesar +What you require of him? for he partly begs +To be desired to give. It much would please him, +That of his fortunes you should make a staff +To lean upon: but it would warm his spirits, +To hear from me you had left Antony, +And put yourself under his shrowd, +The universal landlord. + +CLEOPATRA +What's your name? + +THYREUS +My name is Thyreus. + +CLEOPATRA +Most kind messenger, +Say to great Caesar this: in deputation +I kiss his conquering hand: tell him, I am prompt +To lay my crown at 's feet, and there to kneel: +Tell him from his all-obeying breath I hear +The doom of Egypt. + +THYREUS +'Tis your noblest course. +Wisdom and fortune combating together, +If that the former dare but what it can, +No chance may shake it. Give me grace to lay +My duty on your hand. + +CLEOPATRA +Your Caesar's father oft, +When he hath mused of taking kingdoms in, +Bestow'd his lips on that unworthy place, +As it rain'd kisses. + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY and DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +MARK ANTONY +Favours, by Jove that thunders! +What art thou, fellow? + +THYREUS +One that but performs +The bidding of the fullest man, and worthiest +To have command obey'd. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] You will be whipp'd. + +MARK ANTONY +Approach, there! Ah, you kite! Now, gods +and devils! +Authority melts from me: of late, when I cried 'Ho!' +Like boys unto a muss, kings would start forth, +And cry 'Your will?' Have you no ears? I am +Antony yet. + +Enter Attendants + +Take hence this Jack, and whip him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside] 'Tis better playing with a lion's whelp +Than with an old one dying. + +MARK ANTONY +Moon and stars! +Whip him. Were't twenty of the greatest tributaries +That do acknowledge Caesar, should I find them +So saucy with the hand of she here,--what's her name, +Since she was Cleopatra? Whip him, fellows, +Till, like a boy, you see him cringe his face, +And whine aloud for mercy: take him hence. + +THYREUS +Mark Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Tug him away: being whipp'd, +Bring him again: this Jack of Caesar's shall +Bear us an errand to him. + +Exeunt Attendants with THYREUS + +You were half blasted ere I knew you: ha! +Have I my pillow left unpress'd in Rome, +Forborne the getting of a lawful race, +And by a gem of women, to be abused +By one that looks on feeders? + +CLEOPATRA +Good my lord,-- + +MARK ANTONY +You have been a boggler ever: +But when we in our viciousness grow hard-- +O misery on't!--the wise gods seel our eyes; +In our own filth drop our clear judgments; make us +Adore our errors; laugh at's, while we strut +To our confusion. + +CLEOPATRA +O, is't come to this? + +MARK ANTONY +I found you as a morsel cold upon +Dead Caesar's trencher; nay, you were a fragment +Of Cneius Pompey's; besides what hotter hours, +Unregister'd in vulgar fame, you have +Luxuriously pick'd out: for, I am sure, +Though you can guess what temperance should be, +You know not what it is. + +CLEOPATRA +Wherefore is this? + +MARK ANTONY +To let a fellow that will take rewards +And say 'God quit you!' be familiar with +My playfellow, your hand; this kingly seal +And plighter of high hearts! O, that I were +Upon the hill of Basan, to outroar +The horned herd! for I have savage cause; +And to proclaim it civilly, were like +A halter'd neck which does the hangman thank +For being yare about him. + +Re-enter Attendants with THYREUS + +Is he whipp'd? + +First Attendant +Soundly, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Cried he? and begg'd a' pardon? + +First Attendant +He did ask favour. + +MARK ANTONY +If that thy father live, let him repent +Thou wast not made his daughter; and be thou sorry +To follow Caesar in his triumph, since +Thou hast been whipp'd for following him: henceforth +The white hand of a lady fever thee, +Shake thou to look on 't. Get thee back to Caesar, +Tell him thy entertainment: look, thou say +He makes me angry with him; for he seems +Proud and disdainful, harping on what I am, +Not what he knew I was: he makes me angry; +And at this time most easy 'tis to do't, +When my good stars, that were my former guides, +Have empty left their orbs, and shot their fires +Into the abysm of hell. If he mislike +My speech and what is done, tell him he has +Hipparchus, my enfranched bondman, whom +He may at pleasure whip, or hang, or torture, +As he shall like, to quit me: urge it thou: +Hence with thy stripes, begone! + +Exit THYREUS + +CLEOPATRA +Have you done yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Alack, our terrene moon +Is now eclipsed; and it portends alone +The fall of Antony! + +CLEOPATRA +I must stay his time. + +MARK ANTONY +To flatter Caesar, would you mingle eyes +With one that ties his points? + +CLEOPATRA +Not know me yet? + +MARK ANTONY +Cold-hearted toward me? + +CLEOPATRA +Ah, dear, if I be so, +From my cold heart let heaven engender hail, +And poison it in the source; and the first stone +Drop in my neck: as it determines, so +Dissolve my life! The next Caesarion smite! +Till by degrees the memory of my womb, +Together with my brave Egyptians all, +By the discandying of this pelleted storm, +Lie graveless, till the flies and gnats of Nile +Have buried them for prey! + +MARK ANTONY +I am satisfied. +Caesar sits down in Alexandria; where +I will oppose his fate. Our force by land +Hath nobly held; our sever'd navy too +Have knit again, and fleet, threatening most sea-like. +Where hast thou been, my heart? Dost thou hear, lady? +If from the field I shall return once more +To kiss these lips, I will appear in blood; +I and my sword will earn our chronicle: +There's hope in't yet. + +CLEOPATRA +That's my brave lord! + +MARK ANTONY +I will be treble-sinew'd, hearted, breathed, +And fight maliciously: for when mine hours +Were nice and lucky, men did ransom lives +Of me for jests; but now I'll set my teeth, +And send to darkness all that stop me. Come, +Let's have one other gaudy night: call to me +All my sad captains; fill our bowls once more; +Let's mock the midnight bell. + +CLEOPATRA +It is my birth-day: +I had thought to have held it poor: but, since my lord +Is Antony again, I will be Cleopatra. + +MARK ANTONY +We will yet do well. + +CLEOPATRA +Call all his noble captains to my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Do so, we'll speak to them; and to-night I'll force +The wine peep through their scars. Come on, my queen; +There's sap in't yet. The next time I do fight, +I'll make death love me; for I will contend +Even with his pestilent scythe. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Now he'll outstare the lightning. To be furious, +Is to be frighted out of fear; and in that mood +The dove will peck the estridge; and I see still, +A diminution in our captain's brain +Restores his heart: when valour preys on reason, +It eats the sword it fights with. I will seek +Some way to leave him. + +Exit + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Before Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, and MECAENAS, with his Army; OCTAVIUS CAESAR reading a letter +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +He calls me boy; and chides, as he had power +To beat me out of Egypt; my messenger +He hath whipp'd with rods; dares me to personal combat, +Caesar to Antony: let the old ruffian know +I have many other ways to die; meantime +Laugh at his challenge. + +MECAENAS +Caesar must think, +When one so great begins to rage, he's hunted +Even to falling. Give him no breath, but now +Make boot of his distraction: never anger +Made good guard for itself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let our best heads +Know, that to-morrow the last of many battles +We mean to fight: within our files there are, +Of those that served Mark Antony but late, +Enough to fetch him in. See it done: +And feast the army; we have store to do't, +And they have earn'd the waste. Poor Antony! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. CLEOPATRA's palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY, CLEOPATRA, DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, CHARMIAN, IRAS, ALEXAS, with others +MARK ANTONY +He will not fight with me, Domitius. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +No. + +MARK ANTONY +Why should he not? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +He thinks, being twenty times of better fortune, +He is twenty men to one. + +MARK ANTONY +To-morrow, soldier, +By sea and land I'll fight: or I will live, +Or bathe my dying honour in the blood +Shall make it live again. Woo't thou fight well? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I'll strike, and cry 'Take all.' + +MARK ANTONY +Well said; come on. +Call forth my household servants: let's to-night +Be bounteous at our meal. + +Enter three or four Servitors + +Give me thy hand, +Thou hast been rightly honest;--so hast thou;-- +Thou,--and thou,--and thou:--you have served me well, +And kings have been your fellows. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What means this? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] 'Tis one of those odd +tricks which sorrow shoots +Out of the mind. + +MARK ANTONY +And thou art honest too. +I wish I could be made so many men, +And all of you clapp'd up together in +An Antony, that I might do you service +So good as you have done. + +All +The gods forbid! + +MARK ANTONY +Well, my good fellows, wait on me to-night: +Scant not my cups; and make as much of me +As when mine empire was your fellow too, +And suffer'd my command. + +CLEOPATRA +[Aside to DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS] What does he mean? + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +[Aside to CLEOPATRA] To make his followers weep. + +MARK ANTONY +Tend me to-night; +May be it is the period of your duty: +Haply you shall not see me more; or if, +A mangled shadow: perchance to-morrow +You'll serve another master. I look on you +As one that takes his leave. Mine honest friends, +I turn you not away; but, like a master +Married to your good service, stay till death: +Tend me to-night two hours, I ask no more, +And the gods yield you for't! + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +What mean you, sir, +To give them this discomfort? Look, they weep; +And I, an ass, am onion-eyed: for shame, +Transform us not to women. + +MARK ANTONY +Ho, ho, ho! +Now the witch take me, if I meant it thus! +Grace grow where those drops fall! +My hearty friends, +You take me in too dolorous a sense; +For I spake to you for your comfort; did desire you +To burn this night with torches: know, my hearts, +I hope well of to-morrow; and will lead you +Where rather I'll expect victorious life +Than death and honour. Let's to supper, come, +And drown consideration. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the palace. + +Enter two Soldiers to their guard +First Soldier +Brother, good night: to-morrow is the day. + +Second Soldier +It will determine one way: fare you well. +Heard you of nothing strange about the streets? + +First Soldier +Nothing. What news? + +Second Soldier +Belike 'tis but a rumour. Good night to you. + +First Soldier +Well, sir, good night. + +Enter two other Soldiers + +Second Soldier +Soldiers, have careful watch. + +Third Soldier +And you. Good night, good night. + +They place themselves in every corner of the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Here we: and if to-morrow +Our navy thrive, I have an absolute hope +Our landmen will stand up. + +Third Soldier +'Tis a brave army, +And full of purpose. + +Music of the hautboys as under the stage + +Fourth Soldier +Peace! what noise? + +First Soldier +List, list! + +Second Soldier +Hark! + +First Soldier +Music i' the air. + +Third Soldier +Under the earth. + +Fourth Soldier +It signs well, does it not? + +Third Soldier +No. + +First Soldier +Peace, I say! +What should this mean? + +Second Soldier +'Tis the god Hercules, whom Antony loved, +Now leaves him. + +First Soldier +Walk; let's see if other watchmen +Do hear what we do? + +They advance to another post + +Second Soldier +How now, masters! + +All +[Speaking together] How now! +How now! do you hear this? + +First Soldier +Ay; is't not strange? + +Third Soldier +Do you hear, masters? do you hear? + +First Soldier +Follow the noise so far as we have quarter; +Let's see how it will give off. + +All +Content. 'Tis strange. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. A room in the palace. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and others attending +MARK ANTONY +Eros! mine armour, Eros! + +CLEOPATRA +Sleep a little. + +MARK ANTONY +No, my chuck. Eros, come; mine armour, Eros! + +Enter EROS with armour + +Come good fellow, put mine iron on: +If fortune be not ours to-day, it is +Because we brave her: come. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, I'll help too. +What's this for? + +MARK ANTONY +Ah, let be, let be! thou art +The armourer of my heart: false, false; this, this. + +CLEOPATRA +Sooth, la, I'll help: thus it must be. + +MARK ANTONY +Well, well; +We shall thrive now. Seest thou, my good fellow? +Go put on thy defences. + +EROS +Briefly, sir. + +CLEOPATRA +Is not this buckled well? + +MARK ANTONY +Rarely, rarely: +He that unbuckles this, till we do please +To daff't for our repose, shall hear a storm. +Thou fumblest, Eros; and my queen's a squire +More tight at this than thou: dispatch. O love, +That thou couldst see my wars to-day, and knew'st +The royal occupation! thou shouldst see +A workman in't. + +Enter an armed Soldier + +Good morrow to thee; welcome: +Thou look'st like him that knows a warlike charge: +To business that we love we rise betime, +And go to't with delight. + +Soldier +A thousand, sir, +Early though't be, have on their riveted trim, +And at the port expect you. + +Shout. Trumpets flourish + +Enter Captains and Soldiers + +Captain +The morn is fair. Good morrow, general. + +All +Good morrow, general. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis well blown, lads: +This morning, like the spirit of a youth +That means to be of note, begins betimes. +So, so; come, give me that: this way; well said. +Fare thee well, dame, whate'er becomes of me: +This is a soldier's kiss: rebukeable + +Kisses her + +And worthy shameful cheque it were, to stand +On more mechanic compliment; I'll leave thee +Now, like a man of steel. You that will fight, +Follow me close; I'll bring you to't. Adieu. + +Exeunt MARK ANTONY, EROS, Captains, and Soldiers + +CHARMIAN +Please you, retire to your chamber. + +CLEOPATRA +Lead me. +He goes forth gallantly. That he and Caesar might +Determine this great war in single fight! +Then Antony,--but now--Well, on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Alexandria. MARK ANTONY's camp. + +Trumpets sound. Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS; a Soldier meeting them +Soldier +The gods make this a happy day to Antony! + +MARK ANTONY +Would thou and those thy scars had once prevail'd +To make me fight at land! + +Soldier +Hadst thou done so, +The kings that have revolted, and the soldier +That has this morning left thee, would have still +Follow'd thy heels. + +MARK ANTONY +Who's gone this morning? + +Soldier +Who! +One ever near thee: call for Enobarbus, +He shall not hear thee; or from Caesar's camp +Say 'I am none of thine.' + +MARK ANTONY +What say'st thou? + +Soldier +Sir, +He is with Caesar. + +EROS +Sir, his chests and treasure +He has not with him. + +MARK ANTONY +Is he gone? + +Soldier +Most certain. + +MARK ANTONY +Go, Eros, send his treasure after; do it; +Detain no jot, I charge thee: write to him-- +I will subscribe--gentle adieus and greetings; +Say that I wish he never find more cause +To change a master. O, my fortunes have +Corrupted honest men! Dispatch.--Enobarbus! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Flourish. Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, with DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS, and others +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go forth, Agrippa, and begin the fight: +Our will is Antony be took alive; +Make it so known. + +AGRIPPA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The time of universal peace is near: +Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world +Shall bear the olive freely. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Antony +Is come into the field. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go charge Agrippa +Plant those that have revolted in the van, +That Antony may seem to spend his fury +Upon himself. + +Exeunt all but DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Alexas did revolt; and went to Jewry on +Affairs of Antony; there did persuade +Great Herod to incline himself to Caesar, +And leave his master Antony: for this pains +Caesar hath hang'd him. Canidius and the rest +That fell away have entertainment, but +No honourable trust. I have done ill; +Of which I do accuse myself so sorely, +That I will joy no more. + +Enter a Soldier of CAESAR's + +Soldier +Enobarbus, Antony +Hath after thee sent all thy treasure, with +His bounty overplus: the messenger +Came on my guard; and at thy tent is now +Unloading of his mules. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I give it you. + +Soldier +Mock not, Enobarbus. +I tell you true: best you safed the bringer +Out of the host; I must attend mine office, +Or would have done't myself. Your emperor +Continues still a Jove. + +Exit + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +I am alone the villain of the earth, +And feel I am so most. O Antony, +Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid +My better service, when my turpitude +Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart: +If swift thought break it not, a swifter mean +Shall outstrike thought: but thought will do't, I feel. +I fight against thee! No: I will go seek +Some ditch wherein to die; the foul'st best fits +My latter part of life. + +Exit + +SCENE VII. Field of battle between the camps. + +Alarum. Drums and trumpets. Enter AGRIPPA and others +AGRIPPA +Retire, we have engaged ourselves too far: +Caesar himself has work, and our oppression +Exceeds what we expected. + +Exeunt + +Alarums. Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS wounded + +SCARUS +O my brave emperor, this is fought indeed! +Had we done so at first, we had droven them home +With clouts about their heads. + +MARK ANTONY +Thou bleed'st apace. + +SCARUS +I had a wound here that was like a T, +But now 'tis made an H. + +MARK ANTONY +They do retire. + +SCARUS +We'll beat 'em into bench-holes: I have yet +Room for six scotches more. + +Enter EROS + +EROS +They are beaten, sir, and our advantage serves +For a fair victory. + +SCARUS +Let us score their backs, +And snatch 'em up, as we take hares, behind: +'Tis sport to maul a runner. + +MARK ANTONY +I will reward thee +Once for thy spritely comfort, and ten-fold +For thy good valour. Come thee on. + +SCARUS +I'll halt after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. Under the walls of Alexandria. + +Alarum. Enter MARK ANTONY, in a march; SCARUS, with others +MARK ANTONY +We have beat him to his camp: run one before, +And let the queen know of our gests. To-morrow, +Before the sun shall see 's, we'll spill the blood +That has to-day escaped. I thank you all; +For doughty-handed are you, and have fought +Not as you served the cause, but as 't had been +Each man's like mine; you have shown all Hectors. +Enter the city, clip your wives, your friends, +Tell them your feats; whilst they with joyful tears +Wash the congealment from your wounds, and kiss +The honour'd gashes whole. + +To SCARUS + +Give me thy hand + +Enter CLEOPATRA, attended + +To this great fairy I'll commend thy acts, +Make her thanks bless thee. + +To CLEOPATRA + +O thou day o' the world, +Chain mine arm'd neck; leap thou, attire and all, +Through proof of harness to my heart, and there +Ride on the pants triumphing! + +CLEOPATRA +Lord of lords! +O infinite virtue, comest thou smiling from +The world's great snare uncaught? + +MARK ANTONY +My nightingale, +We have beat them to their beds. What, girl! +though grey +Do something mingle with our younger brown, yet ha' we +A brain that nourishes our nerves, and can +Get goal for goal of youth. Behold this man; +Commend unto his lips thy favouring hand: +Kiss it, my warrior: he hath fought to-day +As if a god, in hate of mankind, had +Destroy'd in such a shape. + +CLEOPATRA +I'll give thee, friend, +An armour all of gold; it was a king's. + +MARK ANTONY +He has deserved it, were it carbuncled +Like holy Phoebus' car. Give me thy hand: +Through Alexandria make a jolly march; +Bear our hack'd targets like the men that owe them: +Had our great palace the capacity +To camp this host, we all would sup together, +And drink carouses to the next day's fate, +Which promises royal peril. Trumpeters, +With brazen din blast you the city's ear; +Make mingle with rattling tabourines; +That heaven and earth may strike their sounds together, +Applauding our approach. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Sentinels at their post +First Soldier +If we be not relieved within this hour, +We must return to the court of guard: the night +Is shiny; and they say we shall embattle +By the second hour i' the morn. + +Second Soldier +This last day was +A shrewd one to's. + +Enter DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O, bear me witness, night,-- + +Third Soldier +What man is this? + +Second Soldier +Stand close, and list him. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +Be witness to me, O thou blessed moon, +When men revolted shall upon record +Bear hateful memory, poor Enobarbus did +Before thy face repent! + +First Soldier +Enobarbus! + +Third Soldier +Peace! +Hark further. + +DOMITIUS ENOBARBUS +O sovereign mistress of true melancholy, +The poisonous damp of night disponge upon me, +That life, a very rebel to my will, +May hang no longer on me: throw my heart +Against the flint and hardness of my fault: +Which, being dried with grief, will break to powder, +And finish all foul thoughts. O Antony, +Nobler than my revolt is infamous, +Forgive me in thine own particular; +But let the world rank me in register +A master-leaver and a fugitive: +O Antony! O Antony! + +Dies + +Second Soldier +Let's speak To him. + +First Soldier +Let's hear him, for the things he speaks +May concern Caesar. + +Third Soldier +Let's do so. But he sleeps. + +First Soldier +Swoons rather; for so bad a prayer as his +Was never yet for sleep. + +Second Soldier +Go we to him. + +Third Soldier +Awake, sir, awake; speak to us. + +Second Soldier +Hear you, sir? + +First Soldier +The hand of death hath raught him. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! the drums +Demurely wake the sleepers. Let us bear him +To the court of guard; he is of note: our hour +Is fully out. + +Third Soldier +Come on, then; +He may recover yet. + +Exeunt with the body + +SCENE X. Between the two camps. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS, with their Army +MARK ANTONY +Their preparation is to-day by sea; +We please them not by land. + +SCARUS +For both, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +I would they'ld fight i' the fire or i' the air; +We'ld fight there too. But this it is; our foot +Upon the hills adjoining to the city +Shall stay with us: order for sea is given; +They have put forth the haven +Where their appointment we may best discover, +And look on their endeavour. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XI. Another part of the same. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, and his Army +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +But being charged, we will be still by land, +Which, as I take't, we shall; for his best force +Is forth to man his galleys. To the vales, +And hold our best advantage. + +Exeunt + +SCENE XII. Another part of the same. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and SCARUS +MARK ANTONY +Yet they are not join'd: where yond pine +does stand, +I shall discover all: I'll bring thee word +Straight, how 'tis like to go. + +Exit + +SCARUS +Swallows have built +In Cleopatra's sails their nests: the augurers +Say they know not, they cannot tell; look grimly, +And dare not speak their knowledge. Antony +Is valiant, and dejected; and, by starts, +His fretted fortunes give him hope, and fear, +Of what he has, and has not. + +Alarum afar off, as at a sea-fight + +Re-enter MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +All is lost; +This foul Egyptian hath betrayed me: +My fleet hath yielded to the foe; and yonder +They cast their caps up and carouse together +Like friends long lost. Triple-turn'd whore! +'tis thou +Hast sold me to this novice; and my heart +Makes only wars on thee. Bid them all fly; +For when I am revenged upon my charm, +I have done all. Bid them all fly; begone. + +Exit SCARUS + +O sun, thy uprise shall I see no more: +Fortune and Antony part here; even here +Do we shake hands. All come to this? The hearts +That spaniel'd me at heels, to whom I gave +Their wishes, do discandy, melt their sweets +On blossoming Caesar; and this pine is bark'd, +That overtopp'd them all. Betray'd I am: +O this false soul of Egypt! this grave charm,-- +Whose eye beck'd forth my wars, and call'd them home; +Whose bosom was my crownet, my chief end,-- +Like a right gipsy, hath, at fast and loose, +Beguiled me to the very heart of loss. +What, Eros, Eros! + +Enter CLEOPATRA + +Ah, thou spell! Avaunt! + +CLEOPATRA +Why is my lord enraged against his love? + +MARK ANTONY +Vanish, or I shall give thee thy deserving, +And blemish Caesar's triumph. Let him take thee, +And hoist thee up to the shouting plebeians: +Follow his chariot, like the greatest spot +Of all thy sex; most monster-like, be shown +For poor'st diminutives, for doits; and let +Patient Octavia plough thy visage up +With her prepared nails. + +Exit CLEOPATRA + +'Tis well thou'rt gone, +If it be well to live; but better 'twere +Thou fell'st into my fury, for one death +Might have prevented many. Eros, ho! +The shirt of Nessus is upon me: teach me, +Alcides, thou mine ancestor, thy rage: +Let me lodge Lichas on the horns o' the moon; +And with those hands, that grasp'd the heaviest club, +Subdue my worthiest self. The witch shall die: +To the young Roman boy she hath sold me, and I fall +Under this plot; she dies for't. Eros, ho! + +Exit + +SCENE XIII. Alexandria. Cleopatra's palace. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, IRAS, and MARDIAN +CLEOPATRA +Help me, my women! O, he is more mad +Than Telamon for his shield; the boar of Thessaly +Was never so emboss'd. + +CHARMIAN +To the monument! +There lock yourself, and send him word you are dead. +The soul and body rive not more in parting +Than greatness going off. + +CLEOPATRA +To the monument! +Mardian, go tell him I have slain myself; +Say, that the last I spoke was 'Antony,' +And word it, prithee, piteously: hence, Mardian, +And bring me how he takes my death. +To the monument! + +Exeunt + +SCENE XIV. The same. Another room. + +Enter MARK ANTONY and EROS +MARK ANTONY +Eros, thou yet behold'st me? + +EROS +Ay, noble lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish; +A vapour sometime like a bear or lion, +A tower'd citadel, a pendent rock, +A forked mountain, or blue promontory +With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, +And mock our eyes with air: thou hast seen +these signs; +They are black vesper's pageants. + +EROS +Ay, my lord, + +MARK ANTONY +That which is now a horse, even with a thought +The rack dislimns, and makes it indistinct, +As water is in water. + +EROS +It does, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +My good knave Eros, now thy captain is +Even such a body: here I am Antony: +Yet cannot hold this visible shape, my knave. +I made these wars for Egypt: and the queen,-- +Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine; +Which whilst it was mine had annex'd unto't +A million more, now lost,--she, Eros, has +Pack'd cards with Caesar, and false-play'd my glory +Unto an enemy's triumph. +Nay, weep not, gentle Eros; there is left us +Ourselves to end ourselves. + +Enter MARDIAN + +O! thy vile lady! +She has robb'd me of my sword. + +MARDIAN +No, Antony; +My mistress loved thee, and her fortunes mingled +With thine entirely. + +MARK ANTONY +Hence, saucy eunuch; peace! +She hath betray'd me and shall die the death. + +MARDIAN +Death of one person can be paid but once, +And that she has discharged: what thou wouldst do +Is done unto thy hand: the last she spake +Was 'Antony! most noble Antony!' +Then in the midst a tearing groan did break +The name of Antony; it was divided +Between her heart and lips: she render'd life, +Thy name so buried in her. + +MARK ANTONY +Dead, then? + +MARDIAN +Dead. + +MARK ANTONY +Unarm, Eros; the long day's task is done, +And we must sleep. + +To MARDIAN + +That thou depart'st hence safe, +Does pay thy labour richly; go. + +Exit MARDIAN + +Off, pluck off: +The seven-fold shield of Ajax cannot keep +The battery from my heart. O, cleave, my sides! +Heart, once be stronger than thy continent, +Crack thy frail case! Apace, Eros, apace. +No more a soldier: bruised pieces, go; +You have been nobly borne. From me awhile. + +Exit EROS + +I will o'ertake thee, Cleopatra, and +Weep for my pardon. So it must be, for now +All length is torture: since the torch is out, +Lie down, and stray no farther: now all labour +Mars what it does; yea, very force entangles +Itself with strength: seal then, and all is done. +Eros!--I come, my queen:--Eros!--Stay for me: +Where souls do couch on flowers, we'll hand in hand, +And with our sprightly port make the ghosts gaze: +Dido and her AEneas shall want troops, +And all the haunt be ours. Come, Eros, Eros! + +Re-enter EROS + +EROS +What would my lord? + +MARK ANTONY +Since Cleopatra died, +I have lived in such dishonour, that the gods +Detest my baseness. I, that with my sword +Quarter'd the world, and o'er green Neptune's back +With ships made cities, condemn myself to lack +The courage of a woman; less noble mind +Than she which by her death our Caesar tells +'I am conqueror of myself.' Thou art sworn, Eros, +That, when the exigent should come, which now +Is come indeed, when I should see behind me +The inevitable prosecution of +Disgrace and horror, that, on my command, +Thou then wouldst kill me: do't; the time is come: +Thou strikest not me, 'tis Caesar thou defeat'st. +Put colour in thy cheek. + +EROS +The gods withhold me! +Shall I do that which all the Parthian darts, +Though enemy, lost aim, and could not? + +MARK ANTONY +Eros, +Wouldst thou be window'd in great Rome and see +Thy master thus with pleach'd arms, bending down +His corrigible neck, his face subdued +To penetrative shame, whilst the wheel'd seat +Of fortunate Caesar, drawn before him, branded +His baseness that ensued? + +EROS +I would not see't. + +MARK ANTONY +Come, then; for with a wound I must be cured. +Draw that thy honest sword, which thou hast worn +Most useful for thy country. + +EROS +O, sir, pardon me! + +MARK ANTONY +When I did make thee free, sworest thou not then +To do this when I bade thee? Do it at once; +Or thy precedent services are all +But accidents unpurposed. Draw, and come. + +EROS +Turn from me, then, that noble countenance, +Wherein the worship of the whole world lies. + +MARK ANTONY +Lo thee! + +Turning from him + +EROS +My sword is drawn. + +MARK ANTONY +Then let it do at once +The thing why thou hast drawn it. + +EROS +My dear master, +My captain, and my emperor, let me say, +Before I strike this bloody stroke, farewell. + +MARK ANTONY +'Tis said, man; and farewell. + +EROS +Farewell, great chief. Shall I strike now? + +MARK ANTONY +Now, Eros. + +EROS +Why, there then: thus I do escape the sorrow +Of Antony's death. + +Kills himself + +MARK ANTONY +Thrice-nobler than myself! +Thou teachest me, O valiant Eros, what +I should, and thou couldst not. My queen and Eros +Have by their brave instruction got upon me +A nobleness in record: but I will be +A bridegroom in my death, and run into't +As to a lover's bed. Come, then; and, Eros, +Thy master dies thy scholar: to do thus + +Falling on his sword + +I learn'd of thee. How! not dead? not dead? +The guard, ho! O, dispatch me! + +Enter DERCETAS and Guard + +First Guard +What's the noise? + +MARK ANTONY +I have done my work in, friends: O, make an end +Of what I have begun. + +Second Guard +The star is fall'n. + +First Guard +And time is at his period. + +All +Alas, and woe! + +MARK ANTONY +Let him that loves me strike me dead. + +First Guard +Not I. + +Second Guard +Nor I. + +Third Guard +Nor any one. + +Exeunt Guard + +DERCETAS +Thy death and fortunes bid thy followers fly. +This sword but shown to Caesar, with this tidings, +Shall enter me with him. + +Enter DIOMEDES + +DIOMEDES +Where's Antony? + +DERCETAS +There, Diomed there. + +DIOMEDES +Lives he? +Wilt thou not answer, man? + +Exit DERCETAS + +MARK ANTONY +Art thou there, Diomed? Draw thy sword, and give me +Sufficing strokes for death. + +DIOMEDES +Most absolute lord, +My mistress Cleopatra sent me to thee. + +MARK ANTONY +When did she send thee? + +DIOMEDES +Now, my lord. + +MARK ANTONY +Where is she? + +DIOMEDES +Lock'd in her monument. She had a prophesying fear +Of what hath come to pass: for when she saw-- +Which never shall be found--you did suspect +She had disposed with Caesar, and that your rage +Would not be purged, she sent you word she was dead; +But, fearing since how it might work, hath sent +Me to proclaim the truth; and I am come, +I dread, too late. + +MARK ANTONY +Too late, good Diomed: call my guard, I prithee. + +DIOMEDES +What, ho, the emperor's guard! The guard, what, ho! +Come, your lord calls! + +Enter four or five of the Guard of MARK ANTONY + +MARK ANTONY +Bear me, good friends, where Cleopatra bides; +'Tis the last service that I shall command you. + +First Guard +Woe, woe are we, sir, you may not live to wear +All your true followers out. + +All +Most heavy day! + +MARK ANTONY +Nay, good my fellows, do not please sharp fate +To grace it with your sorrows: bid that welcome +Which comes to punish us, and we punish it +Seeming to bear it lightly. Take me up: +I have led you oft: carry me now, good friends, +And have my thanks for all. + +Exeunt, bearing MARK ANTONY + +SCENE XV. The same. A monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA and her maids aloft, with CHARMIAN and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +O Charmian, I will never go from hence. + +CHARMIAN +Be comforted, dear madam. + +CLEOPATRA +No, I will not: +All strange and terrible events are welcome, +But comforts we despise; our size of sorrow, +Proportion'd to our cause, must be as great +As that which makes it. + +Enter, below, DIOMEDES + +How now! is he dead? + +DIOMEDES +His death's upon him, but not dead. +Look out o' the other side your monument; +His guard have brought him thither. + +Enter, below, MARK ANTONY, borne by the Guard + +CLEOPATRA +O sun, +Burn the great sphere thou movest in! +darkling stand +The varying shore o' the world. O Antony, +Antony, Antony! Help, Charmian, help, Iras, help; +Help, friends below; let's draw him hither. + +MARK ANTONY +Peace! +Not Caesar's valour hath o'erthrown Antony, +But Antony's hath triumph'd on itself. + +CLEOPATRA +So it should be, that none but Antony +Should conquer Antony; but woe 'tis so! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying; only +I here importune death awhile, until +Of many thousand kisses the poor last +I lay up thy lips. + +CLEOPATRA +I dare not, dear,-- +Dear my lord, pardon,--I dare not, +Lest I be taken: not the imperious show +Of the full-fortuned Caesar ever shall +Be brooch'd with me; if knife, drugs, +serpents, have +Edge, sting, or operation, I am safe: +Your wife Octavia, with her modest eyes +And still conclusion, shall acquire no honour +Demuring upon me. But come, come, Antony,-- +Help me, my women,--we must draw thee up: +Assist, good friends. + +MARK ANTONY +O, quick, or I am gone. + +CLEOPATRA +Here's sport indeed! How heavy weighs my lord! +Our strength is all gone into heaviness, +That makes the weight: had I great Juno's power, +The strong-wing'd Mercury should fetch thee up, +And set thee by Jove's side. Yet come a little,-- +Wishes were ever fools,--O, come, come, come; + +They heave MARK ANTONY aloft to CLEOPATRA + +And welcome, welcome! die where thou hast lived: +Quicken with kissing: had my lips that power, +Thus would I wear them out. + +All +A heavy sight! + +MARK ANTONY +I am dying, Egypt, dying: +Give me some wine, and let me speak a little. + +CLEOPATRA +No, let me speak; and let me rail so high, +That the false housewife Fortune break her wheel, +Provoked by my offence. + +MARK ANTONY +One word, sweet queen: +Of Caesar seek your honour, with your safety. O! + +CLEOPATRA +They do not go together. + +MARK ANTONY +Gentle, hear me: +None about Caesar trust but Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +My resolution and my hands I'll trust; +None about Caesar. + +MARK ANTONY +The miserable change now at my end +Lament nor sorrow at; but please your thoughts +In feeding them with those my former fortunes +Wherein I lived, the greatest prince o' the world, +The noblest; and do now not basely die, +Not cowardly put off my helmet to +My countryman,--a Roman by a Roman +Valiantly vanquish'd. Now my spirit is going; +I can no more. + +CLEOPATRA +Noblest of men, woo't die? +Hast thou no care of me? shall I abide +In this dull world, which in thy absence is +No better than a sty? O, see, my women, + +MARK ANTONY dies + +The crown o' the earth doth melt. My lord! +O, wither'd is the garland of the war, +The soldier's pole is fall'n: young boys and girls +Are level now with men; the odds is gone, +And there is nothing left remarkable +Beneath the visiting moon. + +Faints + +CHARMIAN +O, quietness, lady! + +IRAS +She is dead too, our sovereign. + +CHARMIAN +Lady! + +IRAS +Madam! + +CHARMIAN +O madam, madam, madam! + +IRAS +Royal Egypt, Empress! + +CHARMIAN +Peace, peace, Iras! + +CLEOPATRA +No more, but e'en a woman, and commanded +By such poor passion as the maid that milks +And does the meanest chares. It were for me +To throw my sceptre at the injurious gods; +To tell them that this world did equal theirs +Till they had stol'n our jewel. All's but naught; +Patience is scottish, and impatience does +Become a dog that's mad: then is it sin +To rush into the secret house of death, +Ere death dare come to us? How do you, women? +What, what! good cheer! Why, how now, Charmian! +My noble girls! Ah, women, women, look, +Our lamp is spent, it's out! Good sirs, take heart: +We'll bury him; and then, what's brave, +what's noble, +Let's do it after the high Roman fashion, +And make death proud to take us. Come, away: +This case of that huge spirit now is cold: +Ah, women, women! come; we have no friend +But resolution, and the briefest end. + +Exeunt; those above bearing off MARK ANTONY's body + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Alexandria. OCTAVIUS CAESAR's camp. + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, AGRIPPA, DOLABELLA, MECAENAS, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, and others, his council of war +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; +Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks +The pauses that he makes. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +Enter DERCETAS, with the sword of MARK ANTONY + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest +Appear thus to us? + +DERCETAS +I am call'd Dercetas; +Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy +Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, +He was my master; and I wore my life +To spend upon his haters. If thou please +To take me to thee, as I was to him +I'll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, +I yield thee up my life. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +What is't thou say'st? + +DERCETAS +I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +The breaking of so great a thing should make +A greater crack: the round world +Should have shook lions into civil streets, +And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony +Is not a single doom; in the name lay +A moiety of the world. + +DERCETAS +He is dead, Caesar: +Not by a public minister of justice, +Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, +Which writ his honour in the acts it did, +Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, +Splitted the heart. This is his sword; +I robb'd his wound of it; behold it stain'd +With his most noble blood. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Look you sad, friends? +The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings +To wash the eyes of kings. + +AGRIPPA +And strange it is, +That nature must compel us to lament +Our most persisted deeds. + +MECAENAS +His taints and honours +Waged equal with him. + +AGRIPPA +A rarer spirit never +Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us +Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch'd. + +MECAENAS +When such a spacious mirror's set before him, +He needs must see himself. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O Antony! +I have follow'd thee to this; but we do lance +Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce +Have shown to thee such a declining day, +Or look on thine; we could not stall together +In the whole world: but yet let me lament, +With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, +That thou, my brother, my competitor +In top of all design, my mate in empire, +Friend and companion in the front of war, +The arm of mine own body, and the heart +Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars, +Unreconciliable, should divide +Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- +But I will tell you at some meeter season: + +Enter an Egyptian + +The business of this man looks out of him; +We'll hear him what he says. Whence are you? + +Egyptian +A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, +Confined in all she has, her monument, +Of thy intents desires instruction, +That she preparedly may frame herself +To the way she's forced to. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bid her have good heart: +She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, +How honourable and how kindly we +Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live +To be ungentle. + +Egyptian +So the gods preserve thee! + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, +We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts +The quality of her passion shall require, +Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke +She do defeat us; for her life in Rome +Would be eternal in our triumph: go, +And with your speediest bring us what she says, +And how you find of her. + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar, I shall. + +Exit + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Gallus, go you along. + +Exit GALLUS + +Where's Dolabella, +To second Proculeius? + +All +Dolabella! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Let him alone, for I remember now +How he's employ'd: he shall in time be ready. +Go with me to my tent; where you shall see +How hardly I was drawn into this war; +How calm and gentle I proceeded still +In all my writings: go with me, and see +What I can show in this. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Alexandria. A room in the monument. + +Enter CLEOPATRA, CHARMIAN, and IRAS +CLEOPATRA +My desolation does begin to make +A better life. 'Tis paltry to be Caesar; +Not being Fortune, he's but Fortune's knave, +A minister of her will: and it is great +To do that thing that ends all other deeds; +Which shackles accidents and bolts up change; +Which sleeps, and never palates more the dug, +The beggar's nurse and Caesar's. + +Enter, to the gates of the monument, PROCULEIUS, GALLUS and Soldiers + +PROCULEIUS +Caesar sends greeting to the Queen of Egypt; +And bids thee study on what fair demands +Thou mean'st to have him grant thee. + +CLEOPATRA +What's thy name? + +PROCULEIUS +My name is Proculeius. + +CLEOPATRA +Antony +Did tell me of you, bade me trust you; but +I do not greatly care to be deceived, +That have no use for trusting. If your master +Would have a queen his beggar, you must tell him, +That majesty, to keep decorum, must +No less beg than a kingdom: if he please +To give me conquer'd Egypt for my son, +He gives me so much of mine own, as I +Will kneel to him with thanks. + +PROCULEIUS +Be of good cheer; +You're fall'n into a princely hand, fear nothing: +Make your full reference freely to my lord, +Who is so full of grace, that it flows over +On all that need: let me report to him +Your sweet dependency; and you shall find +A conqueror that will pray in aid for kindness, +Where he for grace is kneel'd to. + +CLEOPATRA +Pray you, tell him +I am his fortune's vassal, and I send him +The greatness he has got. I hourly learn +A doctrine of obedience; and would gladly +Look him i' the face. + +PROCULEIUS +This I'll report, dear lady. +Have comfort, for I know your plight is pitied +Of him that caused it. + +GALLUS +You see how easily she may be surprised: + +Here PROCULEIUS and two of the Guard ascend the monument by a ladder placed against a window, and, having descended, come behind CLEOPATRA. Some of the Guard unbar and open the gates + +To PROCULEIUS and the Guard + +Guard her till Caesar come. + +Exit + +IRAS +Royal queen! + +CHARMIAN +O Cleopatra! thou art taken, queen: + +CLEOPATRA +Quick, quick, good hands. + +Drawing a dagger + +PROCULEIUS +Hold, worthy lady, hold: + +Seizes and disarms her + +Do not yourself such wrong, who are in this +Relieved, but not betray'd. + +CLEOPATRA +What, of death too, +That rids our dogs of languish? + +PROCULEIUS +Cleopatra, +Do not abuse my master's bounty by +The undoing of yourself: let the world see +His nobleness well acted, which your death +Will never let come forth. + +CLEOPATRA +Where art thou, death? +Come hither, come! come, come, and take a queen +Worthy many babes and beggars! + +PROCULEIUS +O, temperance, lady! + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, I will eat no meat, I'll not drink, sir; +If idle talk will once be necessary, +I'll not sleep neither: this mortal house I'll ruin, +Do Caesar what he can. Know, sir, that I +Will not wait pinion'd at your master's court; +Nor once be chastised with the sober eye +Of dull Octavia. Shall they hoist me up +And show me to the shouting varletry +Of censuring Rome? Rather a ditch in Egypt +Be gentle grave unto me! rather on Nilus' mud +Lay me stark naked, and let the water-flies +Blow me into abhorring! rather make +My country's high pyramides my gibbet, +And hang me up in chains! + +PROCULEIUS +You do extend +These thoughts of horror further than you shall +Find cause in Caesar. + +Enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Proculeius, +What thou hast done thy master Caesar knows, +And he hath sent for thee: for the queen, +I'll take her to my guard. + +PROCULEIUS +So, Dolabella, +It shall content me best: be gentle to her. + +To CLEOPATRA + +To Caesar I will speak what you shall please, +If you'll employ me to him. + +CLEOPATRA +Say, I would die. + +Exeunt PROCULEIUS and Soldiers + +DOLABELLA +Most noble empress, you have heard of me? + +CLEOPATRA +I cannot tell. + +DOLABELLA +Assuredly you know me. + +CLEOPATRA +No matter, sir, what I have heard or known. +You laugh when boys or women tell their dreams; +Is't not your trick? + +DOLABELLA +I understand not, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +I dream'd there was an Emperor Antony: +O, such another sleep, that I might see +But such another man! + +DOLABELLA +If it might please ye,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His face was as the heavens; and therein stuck +A sun and moon, which kept their course, +and lighted +The little O, the earth. + +DOLABELLA +Most sovereign creature,-- + +CLEOPATRA +His legs bestrid the ocean: his rear'd arm +Crested the world: his voice was propertied +As all the tuned spheres, and that to friends; +But when he meant to quail and shake the orb, +He was as rattling thunder. For his bounty, +There was no winter in't; an autumn 'twas +That grew the more by reaping: his delights +Were dolphin-like; they show'd his back above +The element they lived in: in his livery +Walk'd crowns and crownets; realms and islands were +As plates dropp'd from his pocket. + +DOLABELLA +Cleopatra! + +CLEOPATRA +Think you there was, or might be, such a man +As this I dream'd of? + +DOLABELLA +Gentle madam, no. + +CLEOPATRA +You lie, up to the hearing of the gods. +But, if there be, or ever were, one such, +It's past the size of dreaming: nature wants stuff +To vie strange forms with fancy; yet, to imagine +And Antony, were nature's piece 'gainst fancy, +Condemning shadows quite. + +DOLABELLA +Hear me, good madam. +Your loss is as yourself, great; and you bear it +As answering to the weight: would I might never +O'ertake pursued success, but I do feel, +By the rebound of yours, a grief that smites +My very heart at root. + +CLEOPATRA +I thank you, sir, +Know you what Caesar means to do with me? + +DOLABELLA +I am loath to tell you what I would you knew. + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, pray you, sir,-- + +DOLABELLA +Though he be honourable,-- + +CLEOPATRA +He'll lead me, then, in triumph? + +DOLABELLA +Madam, he will; I know't. + +Flourish, and shout within, 'Make way there: Octavius Caesar!' + +Enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR, GALLUS, PROCULEIUS, MECAENAS, SELEUCUS, and others of his Train + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Which is the Queen of Egypt? + +DOLABELLA +It is the emperor, madam. + +CLEOPATRA kneels + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Arise, you shall not kneel: +I pray you, rise; rise, Egypt. + +CLEOPATRA +Sir, the gods +Will have it thus; my master and my lord +I must obey. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Take to you no hard thoughts: +The record of what injuries you did us, +Though written in our flesh, we shall remember +As things but done by chance. + +CLEOPATRA +Sole sir o' the world, +I cannot project mine own cause so well +To make it clear; but do confess I have +Been laden with like frailties which before +Have often shamed our sex. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, know, +We will extenuate rather than enforce: +If you apply yourself to our intents, +Which towards you are most gentle, you shall find +A benefit in this change; but if you seek +To lay on me a cruelty, by taking +Antony's course, you shall bereave yourself +Of my good purposes, and put your children +To that destruction which I'll guard them from, +If thereon you rely. I'll take my leave. + +CLEOPATRA +And may, through all the world: 'tis yours; and we, +Your scutcheons and your signs of conquest, shall +Hang in what place you please. Here, my good lord. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +You shall advise me in all for Cleopatra. + +CLEOPATRA +This is the brief of money, plate, and jewels, +I am possess'd of: 'tis exactly valued; +Not petty things admitted. Where's Seleucus? + +SELEUCUS +Here, madam. + +CLEOPATRA +This is my treasurer: let him speak, my lord, +Upon his peril, that I have reserved +To myself nothing. Speak the truth, Seleucus. + +SELEUCUS +Madam, +I had rather seal my lips, than, to my peril, +Speak that which is not. + +CLEOPATRA +What have I kept back? + +SELEUCUS +Enough to purchase what you have made known. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Nay, blush not, Cleopatra; I approve +Your wisdom in the deed. + +CLEOPATRA +See, Caesar! O, behold, +How pomp is follow'd! mine will now be yours; +And, should we shift estates, yours would be mine. +The ingratitude of this Seleucus does +Even make me wild: O slave, of no more trust +Than love that's hired! What, goest thou back? thou shalt +Go back, I warrant thee; but I'll catch thine eyes, +Though they had wings: slave, soulless villain, dog! +O rarely base! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Good queen, let us entreat you. + +CLEOPATRA +O Caesar, what a wounding shame is this, +That thou, vouchsafing here to visit me, +Doing the honour of thy lordliness +To one so meek, that mine own servant should +Parcel the sum of my disgraces by +Addition of his envy! Say, good Caesar, +That I some lady trifles have reserved, +Immoment toys, things of such dignity +As we greet modern friends withal; and say, +Some nobler token I have kept apart +For Livia and Octavia, to induce +Their mediation; must I be unfolded +With one that I have bred? The gods! it smites me +Beneath the fall I have. + +To SELEUCUS + +Prithee, go hence; +Or I shall show the cinders of my spirits +Through the ashes of my chance: wert thou a man, +Thou wouldst have mercy on me. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Forbear, Seleucus. + +Exit SELEUCUS + +CLEOPATRA +Be it known, that we, the greatest, are misthought +For things that others do; and, when we fall, +We answer others' merits in our name, +Are therefore to be pitied. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Cleopatra, +Not what you have reserved, nor what acknowledged, +Put we i' the roll of conquest: still be't yours, +Bestow it at your pleasure; and believe, +Caesar's no merchant, to make prize with you +Of things that merchants sold. Therefore be cheer'd; +Make not your thoughts your prisons: no, dear queen; +For we intend so to dispose you as +Yourself shall give us counsel. Feed, and sleep: +Our care and pity is so much upon you, +That we remain your friend; and so, adieu. + +CLEOPATRA +My master, and my lord! + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Not so. Adieu. + +Flourish. Exeunt OCTAVIUS CAESAR and his train + +CLEOPATRA +He words me, girls, he words me, that I should not +Be noble to myself: but, hark thee, Charmian. + +Whispers CHARMIAN + +IRAS +Finish, good lady; the bright day is done, +And we are for the dark. + +CLEOPATRA +Hie thee again: +I have spoke already, and it is provided; +Go put it to the haste. + +CHARMIAN +Madam, I will. + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Behold, sir. + +Exit + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella! + +DOLABELLA +Madam, as thereto sworn by your command, +Which my love makes religion to obey, +I tell you this: Caesar through Syria +Intends his journey; and within three days +You with your children will he send before: +Make your best use of this: I have perform'd +Your pleasure and my promise. + +CLEOPATRA +Dolabella, +I shall remain your debtor. + +DOLABELLA +I your servant, +Adieu, good queen; I must attend on Caesar. + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell, and thanks. + +Exit DOLABELLA + +Now, Iras, what think'st thou? +Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shalt be shown +In Rome, as well as I mechanic slaves +With greasy aprons, rules, and hammers, shall +Uplift us to the view; in their thick breaths, +Rank of gross diet, shall be enclouded, +And forced to drink their vapour. + +IRAS +The gods forbid! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, 'tis most certain, Iras: saucy lictors +Will catch at us, like strumpets; and scald rhymers +Ballad us out o' tune: the quick comedians +Extemporally will stage us, and present +Our Alexandrian revels; Antony +Shall be brought drunken forth, and I shall see +Some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness +I' the posture of a whore. + +IRAS +O the good gods! + +CLEOPATRA +Nay, that's certain. + +IRAS +I'll never see 't; for, I am sure, my nails +Are stronger than mine eyes. + +CLEOPATRA +Why, that's the way +To fool their preparation, and to conquer +Their most absurd intents. + +Re-enter CHARMIAN + +Now, Charmian! +Show me, my women, like a queen: go fetch +My best attires: I am again for Cydnus, +To meet Mark Antony: sirrah Iras, go. +Now, noble Charmian, we'll dispatch indeed; +And, when thou hast done this chare, I'll give thee leave +To play till doomsday. Bring our crown and all. +Wherefore's this noise? + +Exit IRAS. A noise within + +Enter a Guardsman + +Guard +Here is a rural fellow +That will not be denied your highness presence: +He brings you figs. + +CLEOPATRA +Let him come in. + +Exit Guardsman + +What poor an instrument +May do a noble deed! he brings me liberty. +My resolution's placed, and I have nothing +Of woman in me: now from head to foot +I am marble-constant; now the fleeting moon +No planet is of mine. + +Re-enter Guardsman, with Clown bringing in a basket + +Guard +This is the man. + +CLEOPATRA +Avoid, and leave him. + +Exit Guardsman + +Hast thou the pretty worm of Nilus there, +That kills and pains not? + +Clown +Truly, I have him: but I would not be the party +that should desire you to touch him, for his biting +is immortal; those that do die of it do seldom or +never recover. + +CLEOPATRA +Rememberest thou any that have died on't? + +Clown +Very many, men and women too. I heard of one of +them no longer than yesterday: a very honest woman, +but something given to lie; as a woman should not +do, but in the way of honesty: how she died of the +biting of it, what pain she felt: truly, she makes +a very good report o' the worm; but he that will +believe all that they say, shall never be saved by +half that they do: but this is most fallible, the +worm's an odd worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Get thee hence; farewell. + +Clown +I wish you all joy of the worm. + +Setting down his basket + +CLEOPATRA +Farewell. + +Clown +You must think this, look you, that the worm will +do his kind. + +CLEOPATRA +Ay, ay; farewell. + +Clown +Look you, the worm is not to be trusted but in the +keeping of wise people; for, indeed, there is no +goodness in worm. + +CLEOPATRA +Take thou no care; it shall be heeded. + +Clown +Very good. Give it nothing, I pray you, for it is +not worth the feeding. + +CLEOPATRA +Will it eat me? + +Clown +You must not think I am so simple but I know the +devil himself will not eat a woman: I know that a +woman is a dish for the gods, if the devil dress her +not. But, truly, these same whoreson devils do the +gods great harm in their women; for in every ten +that they make, the devils mar five. + +CLEOPATRA +Well, get thee gone; farewell. + +Clown +Yes, forsooth: I wish you joy o' the worm. + +Exit + +Re-enter IRAS with a robe, crown, & c + +CLEOPATRA +Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have +Immortal longings in me: now no more +The juice of Egypt's grape shall moist this lip: +Yare, yare, good Iras; quick. Methinks I hear +Antony call; I see him rouse himself +To praise my noble act; I hear him mock +The luck of Caesar, which the gods give men +To excuse their after wrath: husband, I come: +Now to that name my courage prove my title! +I am fire and air; my other elements +I give to baser life. So; have you done? +Come then, and take the last warmth of my lips. +Farewell, kind Charmian; Iras, long farewell. + +Kisses them. IRAS falls and dies + +Have I the aspic in my lips? Dost fall? +If thou and nature can so gently part, +The stroke of death is as a lover's pinch, +Which hurts, and is desired. Dost thou lie still? +If thus thou vanishest, thou tell'st the world +It is not worth leave-taking. + +CHARMIAN +Dissolve, thick cloud, and rain; that I may say, +The gods themselves do weep! + +CLEOPATRA +This proves me base: +If she first meet the curled Antony, +He'll make demand of her, and spend that kiss +Which is my heaven to have. Come, thou +mortal wretch, + +To an asp, which she applies to her breast + +With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate +Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool +Be angry, and dispatch. O, couldst thou speak, +That I might hear thee call great Caesar ass +Unpolicied! + +CHARMIAN +O eastern star! + +CLEOPATRA +Peace, peace! +Dost thou not see my baby at my breast, +That sucks the nurse asleep? + +CHARMIAN +O, break! O, break! + +CLEOPATRA +As sweet as balm, as soft as air, as gentle,-- +O Antony!--Nay, I will take thee too. + +Applying another asp to her arm + +What should I stay-- + +Dies + +CHARMIAN +In this vile world? So, fare thee well. +Now boast thee, death, in thy possession lies +A lass unparallel'd. Downy windows, close; +And golden Phoebus never be beheld +Of eyes again so royal! Your crown's awry; +I'll mend it, and then play. + +Enter the Guard, rushing in + +First Guard +Where is the queen? + +CHARMIAN +Speak softly, wake her not. + +First Guard +Caesar hath sent-- + +CHARMIAN +Too slow a messenger. + +Applies an asp + +O, come apace, dispatch! I partly feel thee. + +First Guard +Approach, ho! All's not well: Caesar's beguiled. + +Second Guard +There's Dolabella sent from Caesar; call him. + +First Guard +What work is here! Charmian, is this well done? + +CHARMIAN +It is well done, and fitting for a princess +Descended of so many royal kings. +Ah, soldier! + +Dies + +Re-enter DOLABELLA + +DOLABELLA +How goes it here? + +Second Guard +All dead. + +DOLABELLA +Caesar, thy thoughts +Touch their effects in this: thyself art coming +To see perform'd the dreaded act which thou +So sought'st to hinder. + +Within 'A way there, a way for Caesar!' + +Re-enter OCTAVIUS CAESAR and all his train marching + +DOLABELLA +O sir, you are too sure an augurer; +That you did fear is done. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Bravest at the last, +She levell'd at our purposes, and, being royal, +Took her own way. The manner of their deaths? +I do not see them bleed. + +DOLABELLA +Who was last with them? + +First Guard +A simple countryman, that brought her figs: +This was his basket. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Poison'd, then. + +First Guard +O Caesar, +This Charmian lived but now; she stood and spake: +I found her trimming up the diadem +On her dead mistress; tremblingly she stood +And on the sudden dropp'd. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +O noble weakness! +If they had swallow'd poison, 'twould appear +By external swelling: but she looks like sleep, +As she would catch another Antony +In her strong toil of grace. + +DOLABELLA +Here, on her breast, +There is a vent of blood and something blown: +The like is on her arm. + +First Guard +This is an aspic's trail: and these fig-leaves +Have slime upon them, such as the aspic leaves +Upon the caves of Nile. + +OCTAVIUS CAESAR +Most probable +That so she died; for her physician tells me +She hath pursued conclusions infinite +Of easy ways to die. Take up her bed; +And bear her women from the monument: +She shall be buried by her Antony: +No grave upon the earth shall clip in it +A pair so famous. High events as these +Strike those that make them; and their story is +No less in pity than his glory which +Brought them to be lamented. Our army shall +In solemn show attend this funeral; +And then to Rome. Come, Dolabella, see +High order in this great solemnity. + +Exeunt +The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark +Shakespeare homepage | Hamlet | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Elsinore. A platform before the castle. + +FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO +BERNARDO +Who's there? + +FRANCISCO +Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself. + +BERNARDO +Long live the king! + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo? + +BERNARDO +He. + +FRANCISCO +You come most carefully upon your hour. + +BERNARDO +'Tis now struck twelve; get thee to bed, Francisco. + +FRANCISCO +For this relief much thanks: 'tis bitter cold, +And I am sick at heart. + +BERNARDO +Have you had quiet guard? + +FRANCISCO +Not a mouse stirring. + +BERNARDO +Well, good night. +If you do meet Horatio and Marcellus, +The rivals of my watch, bid them make haste. + +FRANCISCO +I think I hear them. Stand, ho! Who's there? + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +HORATIO +Friends to this ground. + +MARCELLUS +And liegemen to the Dane. + +FRANCISCO +Give you good night. + +MARCELLUS +O, farewell, honest soldier: +Who hath relieved you? + +FRANCISCO +Bernardo has my place. +Give you good night. + +Exit + +MARCELLUS +Holla! Bernardo! + +BERNARDO +Say, +What, is Horatio there? + +HORATIO +A piece of him. + +BERNARDO +Welcome, Horatio: welcome, good Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +What, has this thing appear'd again to-night? + +BERNARDO +I have seen nothing. + +MARCELLUS +Horatio says 'tis but our fantasy, +And will not let belief take hold of him +Touching this dreaded sight, twice seen of us: +Therefore I have entreated him along +With us to watch the minutes of this night; +That if again this apparition come, +He may approve our eyes and speak to it. + +HORATIO +Tush, tush, 'twill not appear. + +BERNARDO +Sit down awhile; +And let us once again assail your ears, +That are so fortified against our story +What we have two nights seen. + +HORATIO +Well, sit we down, +And let us hear Bernardo speak of this. + +BERNARDO +Last night of all, +When yond same star that's westward from the pole +Had made his course to illume that part of heaven +Where now it burns, Marcellus and myself, +The bell then beating one,-- + +Enter Ghost + +MARCELLUS +Peace, break thee off; look, where it comes again! + +BERNARDO +In the same figure, like the king that's dead. + +MARCELLUS +Thou art a scholar; speak to it, Horatio. + +BERNARDO +Looks it not like the king? mark it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +Most like: it harrows me with fear and wonder. + +BERNARDO +It would be spoke to. + +MARCELLUS +Question it, Horatio. + +HORATIO +What art thou that usurp'st this time of night, +Together with that fair and warlike form +In which the majesty of buried Denmark +Did sometimes march? by heaven I charge thee, speak! + +MARCELLUS +It is offended. + +BERNARDO +See, it stalks away! + +HORATIO +Stay! speak, speak! I charge thee, speak! + +Exit Ghost + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone, and will not answer. + +BERNARDO +How now, Horatio! you tremble and look pale: +Is not this something more than fantasy? +What think you on't? + +HORATIO +Before my God, I might not this believe +Without the sensible and true avouch +Of mine own eyes. + +MARCELLUS +Is it not like the king? + +HORATIO +As thou art to thyself: +Such was the very armour he had on +When he the ambitious Norway combated; +So frown'd he once, when, in an angry parle, +He smote the sledded Polacks on the ice. +'Tis strange. + +MARCELLUS +Thus twice before, and jump at this dead hour, +With martial stalk hath he gone by our watch. + +HORATIO +In what particular thought to work I know not; +But in the gross and scope of my opinion, +This bodes some strange eruption to our state. + +MARCELLUS +Good now, sit down, and tell me, he that knows, +Why this same strict and most observant watch +So nightly toils the subject of the land, +And why such daily cast of brazen cannon, +And foreign mart for implements of war; +Why such impress of shipwrights, whose sore task +Does not divide the Sunday from the week; +What might be toward, that this sweaty haste +Doth make the night joint-labourer with the day: +Who is't that can inform me? + +HORATIO +That can I; +At least, the whisper goes so. Our last king, +Whose image even but now appear'd to us, +Was, as you know, by Fortinbras of Norway, +Thereto prick'd on by a most emulate pride, +Dared to the combat; in which our valiant Hamlet-- +For so this side of our known world esteem'd him-- +Did slay this Fortinbras; who by a seal'd compact, +Well ratified by law and heraldry, +Did forfeit, with his life, all those his lands +Which he stood seized of, to the conqueror: +Against the which, a moiety competent +Was gaged by our king; which had return'd +To the inheritance of Fortinbras, +Had he been vanquisher; as, by the same covenant, +And carriage of the article design'd, +His fell to Hamlet. Now, sir, young Fortinbras, +Of unimproved mettle hot and full, +Hath in the skirts of Norway here and there +Shark'd up a list of lawless resolutes, +For food and diet, to some enterprise +That hath a stomach in't; which is no other-- +As it doth well appear unto our state-- +But to recover of us, by strong hand +And terms compulsatory, those foresaid lands +So by his father lost: and this, I take it, +Is the main motive of our preparations, +The source of this our watch and the chief head +Of this post-haste and romage in the land. + +BERNARDO +I think it be no other but e'en so: +Well may it sort that this portentous figure +Comes armed through our watch; so like the king +That was and is the question of these wars. + +HORATIO +A mote it is to trouble the mind's eye. +In the most high and palmy state of Rome, +A little ere the mightiest Julius fell, +The graves stood tenantless and the sheeted dead +Did squeak and gibber in the Roman streets: +As stars with trains of fire and dews of blood, +Disasters in the sun; and the moist star +Upon whose influence Neptune's empire stands +Was sick almost to doomsday with eclipse: +And even the like precurse of fierce events, +As harbingers preceding still the fates +And prologue to the omen coming on, +Have heaven and earth together demonstrated +Unto our climatures and countrymen.-- +But soft, behold! lo, where it comes again! + +Re-enter Ghost + +I'll cross it, though it blast me. Stay, illusion! +If thou hast any sound, or use of voice, +Speak to me: +If there be any good thing to be done, +That may to thee do ease and grace to me, +Speak to me: + +Cock crows + +If thou art privy to thy country's fate, +Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, O, speak! +Or if thou hast uphoarded in thy life +Extorted treasure in the womb of earth, +For which, they say, you spirits oft walk in death, +Speak of it: stay, and speak! Stop it, Marcellus. + +MARCELLUS +Shall I strike at it with my partisan? + +HORATIO +Do, if it will not stand. + +BERNARDO +'Tis here! + +HORATIO +'Tis here! + +MARCELLUS +'Tis gone! + +Exit Ghost + +We do it wrong, being so majestical, +To offer it the show of violence; +For it is, as the air, invulnerable, +And our vain blows malicious mockery. + +BERNARDO +It was about to speak, when the cock crew. + +HORATIO +And then it started like a guilty thing +Upon a fearful summons. I have heard, +The cock, that is the trumpet to the morn, +Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat +Awake the god of day; and, at his warning, +Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, +The extravagant and erring spirit hies +To his confine: and of the truth herein +This present object made probation. + +MARCELLUS +It faded on the crowing of the cock. +Some say that ever 'gainst that season comes +Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, +The bird of dawning singeth all night long: +And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; +The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, +No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, +So hallow'd and so gracious is the time. + +HORATIO +So have I heard and do in part believe it. +But, look, the morn, in russet mantle clad, +Walks o'er the dew of yon high eastward hill: +Break we our watch up; and by my advice, +Let us impart what we have seen to-night +Unto young Hamlet; for, upon my life, +This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him. +Do you consent we shall acquaint him with it, +As needful in our loves, fitting our duty? + +MARCELLUS +Let's do't, I pray; and I this morning know +Where we shall find him most conveniently. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room of state in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, HAMLET, POLONIUS, LAERTES, VOLTIMAND, CORNELIUS, Lords, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Though yet of Hamlet our dear brother's death +The memory be green, and that it us befitted +To bear our hearts in grief and our whole kingdom +To be contracted in one brow of woe, +Yet so far hath discretion fought with nature +That we with wisest sorrow think on him, +Together with remembrance of ourselves. +Therefore our sometime sister, now our queen, +The imperial jointress to this warlike state, +Have we, as 'twere with a defeated joy,-- +With an auspicious and a dropping eye, +With mirth in funeral and with dirge in marriage, +In equal scale weighing delight and dole,-- +Taken to wife: nor have we herein barr'd +Your better wisdoms, which have freely gone +With this affair along. For all, our thanks. +Now follows, that you know, young Fortinbras, +Holding a weak supposal of our worth, +Or thinking by our late dear brother's death +Our state to be disjoint and out of frame, +Colleagued with the dream of his advantage, +He hath not fail'd to pester us with message, +Importing the surrender of those lands +Lost by his father, with all bonds of law, +To our most valiant brother. So much for him. +Now for ourself and for this time of meeting: +Thus much the business is: we have here writ +To Norway, uncle of young Fortinbras,-- +Who, impotent and bed-rid, scarcely hears +Of this his nephew's purpose,--to suppress +His further gait herein; in that the levies, +The lists and full proportions, are all made +Out of his subject: and we here dispatch +You, good Cornelius, and you, Voltimand, +For bearers of this greeting to old Norway; +Giving to you no further personal power +To business with the king, more than the scope +Of these delated articles allow. +Farewell, and let your haste commend your duty. + +CORNELIUS VOLTIMAND +In that and all things will we show our duty. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We doubt it nothing: heartily farewell. + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +And now, Laertes, what's the news with you? +You told us of some suit; what is't, Laertes? +You cannot speak of reason to the Dane, +And loose your voice: what wouldst thou beg, Laertes, +That shall not be my offer, not thy asking? +The head is not more native to the heart, +The hand more instrumental to the mouth, +Than is the throne of Denmark to thy father. +What wouldst thou have, Laertes? + +LAERTES +My dread lord, +Your leave and favour to return to France; +From whence though willingly I came to Denmark, +To show my duty in your coronation, +Yet now, I must confess, that duty done, +My thoughts and wishes bend again toward France +And bow them to your gracious leave and pardon. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you your father's leave? What says Polonius? + +LORD POLONIUS +He hath, my lord, wrung from me my slow leave +By laboursome petition, and at last +Upon his will I seal'd my hard consent: +I do beseech you, give him leave to go. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Take thy fair hour, Laertes; time be thine, +And thy best graces spend it at thy will! +But now, my cousin Hamlet, and my son,-- + +HAMLET +[Aside] A little more than kin, and less than kind. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How is it that the clouds still hang on you? + +HAMLET +Not so, my lord; I am too much i' the sun. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good Hamlet, cast thy nighted colour off, +And let thine eye look like a friend on Denmark. +Do not for ever with thy vailed lids +Seek for thy noble father in the dust: +Thou know'st 'tis common; all that lives must die, +Passing through nature to eternity. + +HAMLET +Ay, madam, it is common. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +If it be, +Why seems it so particular with thee? + +HAMLET +Seems, madam! nay it is; I know not 'seems.' +'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother, +Nor customary suits of solemn black, +Nor windy suspiration of forced breath, +No, nor the fruitful river in the eye, +Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage, +Together with all forms, moods, shapes of grief, +That can denote me truly: these indeed seem, +For they are actions that a man might play: +But I have that within which passeth show; +These but the trappings and the suits of woe. + +KING CLAUDIUS +'Tis sweet and commendable in your nature, Hamlet, +To give these mourning duties to your father: +But, you must know, your father lost a father; +That father lost, lost his, and the survivor bound +In filial obligation for some term +To do obsequious sorrow: but to persever +In obstinate condolement is a course +Of impious stubbornness; 'tis unmanly grief; +It shows a will most incorrect to heaven, +A heart unfortified, a mind impatient, +An understanding simple and unschool'd: +For what we know must be and is as common +As any the most vulgar thing to sense, +Why should we in our peevish opposition +Take it to heart? Fie! 'tis a fault to heaven, +A fault against the dead, a fault to nature, +To reason most absurd: whose common theme +Is death of fathers, and who still hath cried, +From the first corse till he that died to-day, +'This must be so.' We pray you, throw to earth +This unprevailing woe, and think of us +As of a father: for let the world take note, +You are the most immediate to our throne; +And with no less nobility of love +Than that which dearest father bears his son, +Do I impart toward you. For your intent +In going back to school in Wittenberg, +It is most retrograde to our desire: +And we beseech you, bend you to remain +Here, in the cheer and comfort of our eye, +Our chiefest courtier, cousin, and our son. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Let not thy mother lose her prayers, Hamlet: +I pray thee, stay with us; go not to Wittenberg. + +HAMLET +I shall in all my best obey you, madam. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Why, 'tis a loving and a fair reply: +Be as ourself in Denmark. Madam, come; +This gentle and unforced accord of Hamlet +Sits smiling to my heart: in grace whereof, +No jocund health that Denmark drinks to-day, +But the great cannon to the clouds shall tell, +And the king's rouse the heavens all bruit again, +Re-speaking earthly thunder. Come away. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +HAMLET +O, that this too too solid flesh would melt +Thaw and resolve itself into a dew! +Or that the Everlasting had not fix'd +His canon 'gainst self-slaughter! O God! God! +How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable, +Seem to me all the uses of this world! +Fie on't! ah fie! 'tis an unweeded garden, +That grows to seed; things rank and gross in nature +Possess it merely. That it should come to this! +But two months dead: nay, not so much, not two: +So excellent a king; that was, to this, +Hyperion to a satyr; so loving to my mother +That he might not beteem the winds of heaven +Visit her face too roughly. Heaven and earth! +Must I remember? why, she would hang on him, +As if increase of appetite had grown +By what it fed on: and yet, within a month-- +Let me not think on't--Frailty, thy name is woman!-- +A little month, or ere those shoes were old +With which she follow'd my poor father's body, +Like Niobe, all tears:--why she, even she-- +O, God! a beast, that wants discourse of reason, +Would have mourn'd longer--married with my uncle, +My father's brother, but no more like my father +Than I to Hercules: within a month: +Ere yet the salt of most unrighteous tears +Had left the flushing in her galled eyes, +She married. O, most wicked speed, to post +With such dexterity to incestuous sheets! +It is not nor it cannot come to good: +But break, my heart; for I must hold my tongue. + +Enter HORATIO, MARCELLUS, and BERNARDO + +HORATIO +Hail to your lordship! + +HAMLET +I am glad to see you well: +Horatio,--or I do forget myself. + +HORATIO +The same, my lord, and your poor servant ever. + +HAMLET +Sir, my good friend; I'll change that name with you: +And what make you from Wittenberg, Horatio? Marcellus? + +MARCELLUS +My good lord-- + +HAMLET +I am very glad to see you. Good even, sir. +But what, in faith, make you from Wittenberg? + +HORATIO +A truant disposition, good my lord. + +HAMLET +I would not hear your enemy say so, +Nor shall you do mine ear that violence, +To make it truster of your own report +Against yourself: I know you are no truant. +But what is your affair in Elsinore? +We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart. + +HORATIO +My lord, I came to see your father's funeral. + +HAMLET +I pray thee, do not mock me, fellow-student; +I think it was to see my mother's wedding. + +HORATIO +Indeed, my lord, it follow'd hard upon. + +HAMLET +Thrift, thrift, Horatio! the funeral baked meats +Did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. +Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven +Or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! +My father!--methinks I see my father. + +HORATIO +Where, my lord? + +HAMLET +In my mind's eye, Horatio. + +HORATIO +I saw him once; he was a goodly king. + +HAMLET +He was a man, take him for all in all, +I shall not look upon his like again. + +HORATIO +My lord, I think I saw him yesternight. + +HAMLET +Saw? who? + +HORATIO +My lord, the king your father. + +HAMLET +The king my father! + +HORATIO +Season your admiration for awhile +With an attent ear, till I may deliver, +Upon the witness of these gentlemen, +This marvel to you. + +HAMLET +For God's love, let me hear. + +HORATIO +Two nights together had these gentlemen, +Marcellus and Bernardo, on their watch, +In the dead vast and middle of the night, +Been thus encounter'd. A figure like your father, +Armed at point exactly, cap-a-pe, +Appears before them, and with solemn march +Goes slow and stately by them: thrice he walk'd +By their oppress'd and fear-surprised eyes, +Within his truncheon's length; whilst they, distilled +Almost to jelly with the act of fear, +Stand dumb and speak not to him. This to me +In dreadful secrecy impart they did; +And I with them the third night kept the watch; +Where, as they had deliver'd, both in time, +Form of the thing, each word made true and good, +The apparition comes: I knew your father; +These hands are not more like. + +HAMLET +But where was this? + +MARCELLUS +My lord, upon the platform where we watch'd. + +HAMLET +Did you not speak to it? + +HORATIO +My lord, I did; +But answer made it none: yet once methought +It lifted up its head and did address +Itself to motion, like as it would speak; +But even then the morning cock crew loud, +And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, +And vanish'd from our sight. + +HAMLET +'Tis very strange. + +HORATIO +As I do live, my honour'd lord, 'tis true; +And we did think it writ down in our duty +To let you know of it. + +HAMLET +Indeed, indeed, sirs, but this troubles me. +Hold you the watch to-night? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +We do, my lord. + +HAMLET +Arm'd, say you? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Arm'd, my lord. + +HAMLET +From top to toe? + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +My lord, from head to foot. + +HAMLET +Then saw you not his face? + +HORATIO +O, yes, my lord; he wore his beaver up. + +HAMLET +What, look'd he frowningly? + +HORATIO +A countenance more in sorrow than in anger. + +HAMLET +Pale or red? + +HORATIO +Nay, very pale. + +HAMLET +And fix'd his eyes upon you? + +HORATIO +Most constantly. + +HAMLET +I would I had been there. + +HORATIO +It would have much amazed you. + +HAMLET +Very like, very like. Stay'd it long? + +HORATIO +While one with moderate haste might tell a hundred. + +MARCELLUS BERNARDO +Longer, longer. + +HORATIO +Not when I saw't. + +HAMLET +His beard was grizzled--no? + +HORATIO +It was, as I have seen it in his life, +A sable silver'd. + +HAMLET +I will watch to-night; +Perchance 'twill walk again. + +HORATIO +I warrant it will. + +HAMLET +If it assume my noble father's person, +I'll speak to it, though hell itself should gape +And bid me hold my peace. I pray you all, +If you have hitherto conceal'd this sight, +Let it be tenable in your silence still; +And whatsoever else shall hap to-night, +Give it an understanding, but no tongue: +I will requite your loves. So, fare you well: +Upon the platform, 'twixt eleven and twelve, +I'll visit you. + +All +Our duty to your honour. + +HAMLET +Your loves, as mine to you: farewell. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +My father's spirit in arms! all is not well; +I doubt some foul play: would the night were come! +Till then sit still, my soul: foul deeds will rise, +Though all the earth o'erwhelm them, to men's eyes. + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in Polonius' house. + +Enter LAERTES and OPHELIA +LAERTES +My necessaries are embark'd: farewell: +And, sister, as the winds give benefit +And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, +But let me hear from you. + +OPHELIA +Do you doubt that? + +LAERTES +For Hamlet and the trifling of his favour, +Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood, +A violet in the youth of primy nature, +Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting, +The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more. + +OPHELIA +No more but so? + +LAERTES +Think it no more; +For nature, crescent, does not grow alone +In thews and bulk, but, as this temple waxes, +The inward service of the mind and soul +Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, +And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch +The virtue of his will: but you must fear, +His greatness weigh'd, his will is not his own; +For he himself is subject to his birth: +He may not, as unvalued persons do, +Carve for himself; for on his choice depends +The safety and health of this whole state; +And therefore must his choice be circumscribed +Unto the voice and yielding of that body +Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, +It fits your wisdom so far to believe it +As he in his particular act and place +May give his saying deed; which is no further +Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. +Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain, +If with too credent ear you list his songs, +Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open +To his unmaster'd importunity. +Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister, +And keep you in the rear of your affection, +Out of the shot and danger of desire. +The chariest maid is prodigal enough, +If she unmask her beauty to the moon: +Virtue itself 'scapes not calumnious strokes: +The canker galls the infants of the spring, +Too oft before their buttons be disclosed, +And in the morn and liquid dew of youth +Contagious blastments are most imminent. +Be wary then; best safety lies in fear: +Youth to itself rebels, though none else near. + +OPHELIA +I shall the effect of this good lesson keep, +As watchman to my heart. But, good my brother, +Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, +Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; +Whiles, like a puff'd and reckless libertine, +Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, +And recks not his own rede. + +LAERTES +O, fear me not. +I stay too long: but here my father comes. + +Enter POLONIUS + +A double blessing is a double grace, +Occasion smiles upon a second leave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Yet here, Laertes! aboard, aboard, for shame! +The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, +And you are stay'd for. There; my blessing with thee! +And these few precepts in thy memory +See thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, +Nor any unproportioned thought his act. +Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. +Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, +Grapple them to thy soul with hoops of steel; +But do not dull thy palm with entertainment +Of each new-hatch'd, unfledged comrade. Beware +Of entrance to a quarrel, but being in, +Bear't that the opposed may beware of thee. +Give every man thy ear, but few thy voice; +Take each man's censure, but reserve thy judgment. +Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, +But not express'd in fancy; rich, not gaudy; +For the apparel oft proclaims the man, +And they in France of the best rank and station +Are of a most select and generous chief in that. +Neither a borrower nor a lender be; +For loan oft loses both itself and friend, +And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. +This above all: to thine ownself be true, +And it must follow, as the night the day, +Thou canst not then be false to any man. +Farewell: my blessing season this in thee! + +LAERTES +Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +The time invites you; go; your servants tend. + +LAERTES +Farewell, Ophelia; and remember well +What I have said to you. + +OPHELIA +'Tis in my memory lock'd, +And you yourself shall keep the key of it. + +LAERTES +Farewell. + +Exit + +LORD POLONIUS +What is't, Ophelia, be hath said to you? + +OPHELIA +So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well bethought: +'Tis told me, he hath very oft of late +Given private time to you; and you yourself +Have of your audience been most free and bounteous: +If it be so, as so 'tis put on me, +And that in way of caution, I must tell you, +You do not understand yourself so clearly +As it behoves my daughter and your honour. +What is between you? give me up the truth. + +OPHELIA +He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders +Of his affection to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Affection! pooh! you speak like a green girl, +Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. +Do you believe his tenders, as you call them? + +OPHELIA +I do not know, my lord, what I should think. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, I'll teach you: think yourself a baby; +That you have ta'en these tenders for true pay, +Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; +Or--not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, +Running it thus--you'll tender me a fool. + +OPHELIA +My lord, he hath importuned me with love +In honourable fashion. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to. + +OPHELIA +And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, +With almost all the holy vows of heaven. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, +When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul +Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, +Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, +Even in their promise, as it is a-making, +You must not take for fire. From this time +Be somewhat scanter of your maiden presence; +Set your entreatments at a higher rate +Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, +Believe so much in him, that he is young +And with a larger tether may he walk +Than may be given you: in few, Ophelia, +Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, +Not of that dye which their investments show, +But mere implorators of unholy suits, +Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, +The better to beguile. This is for all: +I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth, +Have you so slander any moment leisure, +As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. +Look to't, I charge you: come your ways. + +OPHELIA +I shall obey, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The platform. + +Enter HAMLET, HORATIO, and MARCELLUS +HAMLET +The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. + +HORATIO +It is a nipping and an eager air. + +HAMLET +What hour now? + +HORATIO +I think it lacks of twelve. + +HAMLET +No, it is struck. + +HORATIO +Indeed? I heard it not: then it draws near the season +Wherein the spirit held his wont to walk. + +A flourish of trumpets, and ordnance shot off, within + +What does this mean, my lord? + +HAMLET +The king doth wake to-night and takes his rouse, +Keeps wassail, and the swaggering up-spring reels; +And, as he drains his draughts of Rhenish down, +The kettle-drum and trumpet thus bray out +The triumph of his pledge. + +HORATIO +Is it a custom? + +HAMLET +Ay, marry, is't: +But to my mind, though I am native here +And to the manner born, it is a custom +More honour'd in the breach than the observance. +This heavy-headed revel east and west +Makes us traduced and tax'd of other nations: +They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phrase +Soil our addition; and indeed it takes +From our achievements, though perform'd at height, +The pith and marrow of our attribute. +So, oft it chances in particular men, +That for some vicious mole of nature in them, +As, in their birth--wherein they are not guilty, +Since nature cannot choose his origin-- +By the o'ergrowth of some complexion, +Oft breaking down the pales and forts of reason, +Or by some habit that too much o'er-leavens +The form of plausive manners, that these men, +Carrying, I say, the stamp of one defect, +Being nature's livery, or fortune's star,-- +Their virtues else--be they as pure as grace, +As infinite as man may undergo-- +Shall in the general censure take corruption +From that particular fault: the dram of eale +Doth all the noble substance of a doubt +To his own scandal. + +HORATIO +Look, my lord, it comes! + +Enter Ghost + +HAMLET +Angels and ministers of grace defend us! +Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damn'd, +Bring with thee airs from heaven or blasts from hell, +Be thy intents wicked or charitable, +Thou comest in such a questionable shape +That I will speak to thee: I'll call thee Hamlet, +King, father, royal Dane: O, answer me! +Let me not burst in ignorance; but tell +Why thy canonized bones, hearsed in death, +Have burst their cerements; why the sepulchre, +Wherein we saw thee quietly inurn'd, +Hath oped his ponderous and marble jaws, +To cast thee up again. What may this mean, +That thou, dead corse, again in complete steel +Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, +Making night hideous; and we fools of nature +So horridly to shake our disposition +With thoughts beyond the reaches of our souls? +Say, why is this? wherefore? what should we do? + +Ghost beckons HAMLET + +HORATIO +It beckons you to go away with it, +As if it some impartment did desire +To you alone. + +MARCELLUS +Look, with what courteous action +It waves you to a more removed ground: +But do not go with it. + +HORATIO +No, by no means. + +HAMLET +It will not speak; then I will follow it. + +HORATIO +Do not, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, what should be the fear? +I do not set my life in a pin's fee; +And for my soul, what can it do to that, +Being a thing immortal as itself? +It waves me forth again: I'll follow it. + +HORATIO +What if it tempt you toward the flood, my lord, +Or to the dreadful summit of the cliff +That beetles o'er his base into the sea, +And there assume some other horrible form, +Which might deprive your sovereignty of reason +And draw you into madness? think of it: +The very place puts toys of desperation, +Without more motive, into every brain +That looks so many fathoms to the sea +And hears it roar beneath. + +HAMLET +It waves me still. +Go on; I'll follow thee. + +MARCELLUS +You shall not go, my lord. + +HAMLET +Hold off your hands. + +HORATIO +Be ruled; you shall not go. + +HAMLET +My fate cries out, +And makes each petty artery in this body +As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve. +Still am I call'd. Unhand me, gentlemen. +By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me! +I say, away! Go on; I'll follow thee. + +Exeunt Ghost and HAMLET + +HORATIO +He waxes desperate with imagination. + +MARCELLUS +Let's follow; 'tis not fit thus to obey him. + +HORATIO +Have after. To what issue will this come? + +MARCELLUS +Something is rotten in the state of Denmark. + +HORATIO +Heaven will direct it. + +MARCELLUS +Nay, let's follow him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the platform. + +Enter GHOST and HAMLET +HAMLET +Where wilt thou lead me? speak; I'll go no further. + +Ghost +Mark me. + +HAMLET +I will. + +Ghost +My hour is almost come, +When I to sulphurous and tormenting flames +Must render up myself. + +HAMLET +Alas, poor ghost! + +Ghost +Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing +To what I shall unfold. + +HAMLET +Speak; I am bound to hear. + +Ghost +So art thou to revenge, when thou shalt hear. + +HAMLET +What? + +Ghost +I am thy father's spirit, +Doom'd for a certain term to walk the night, +And for the day confined to fast in fires, +Till the foul crimes done in my days of nature +Are burnt and purged away. But that I am forbid +To tell the secrets of my prison-house, +I could a tale unfold whose lightest word +Would harrow up thy soul, freeze thy young blood, +Make thy two eyes, like stars, start from their spheres, +Thy knotted and combined locks to part +And each particular hair to stand on end, +Like quills upon the fretful porpentine: +But this eternal blazon must not be +To ears of flesh and blood. List, list, O, list! +If thou didst ever thy dear father love-- + +HAMLET +O God! + +Ghost +Revenge his foul and most unnatural murder. + +HAMLET +Murder! + +Ghost +Murder most foul, as in the best it is; +But this most foul, strange and unnatural. + +HAMLET +Haste me to know't, that I, with wings as swift +As meditation or the thoughts of love, +May sweep to my revenge. + +Ghost +I find thee apt; +And duller shouldst thou be than the fat weed +That roots itself in ease on Lethe wharf, +Wouldst thou not stir in this. Now, Hamlet, hear: +'Tis given out that, sleeping in my orchard, +A serpent stung me; so the whole ear of Denmark +Is by a forged process of my death +Rankly abused: but know, thou noble youth, +The serpent that did sting thy father's life +Now wears his crown. + +HAMLET +O my prophetic soul! My uncle! + +Ghost +Ay, that incestuous, that adulterate beast, +With witchcraft of his wit, with traitorous gifts,-- +O wicked wit and gifts, that have the power +So to seduce!--won to his shameful lust +The will of my most seeming-virtuous queen: +O Hamlet, what a falling-off was there! +From me, whose love was of that dignity +That it went hand in hand even with the vow +I made to her in marriage, and to decline +Upon a wretch whose natural gifts were poor +To those of mine! +But virtue, as it never will be moved, +Though lewdness court it in a shape of heaven, +So lust, though to a radiant angel link'd, +Will sate itself in a celestial bed, +And prey on garbage. +But, soft! methinks I scent the morning air; +Brief let me be. Sleeping within my orchard, +My custom always of the afternoon, +Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, +With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial, +And in the porches of my ears did pour +The leperous distilment; whose effect +Holds such an enmity with blood of man +That swift as quicksilver it courses through +The natural gates and alleys of the body, +And with a sudden vigour doth posset +And curd, like eager droppings into milk, +The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine; +And a most instant tetter bark'd about, +Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, +All my smooth body. +Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand +Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd: +Cut off even in the blossoms of my sin, +Unhousel'd, disappointed, unanel'd, +No reckoning made, but sent to my account +With all my imperfections on my head: +O, horrible! O, horrible! most horrible! +If thou hast nature in thee, bear it not; +Let not the royal bed of Denmark be +A couch for luxury and damned incest. +But, howsoever thou pursuest this act, +Taint not thy mind, nor let thy soul contrive +Against thy mother aught: leave her to heaven +And to those thorns that in her bosom lodge, +To prick and sting her. Fare thee well at once! +The glow-worm shows the matin to be near, +And 'gins to pale his uneffectual fire: +Adieu, adieu! Hamlet, remember me. + +Exit + +HAMLET +O all you host of heaven! O earth! what else? +And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, hold, my heart; +And you, my sinews, grow not instant old, +But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee! +Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat +In this distracted globe. Remember thee! +Yea, from the table of my memory +I'll wipe away all trivial fond records, +All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past, +That youth and observation copied there; +And thy commandment all alone shall live +Within the book and volume of my brain, +Unmix'd with baser matter: yes, by heaven! +O most pernicious woman! +O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain! +My tables,--meet it is I set it down, +That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain; +At least I'm sure it may be so in Denmark: + +Writing + +So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word; +It is 'Adieu, adieu! remember me.' +I have sworn 't. + +MARCELLUS HORATIO +[Within] My lord, my lord,-- + +MARCELLUS +[Within] Lord Hamlet,-- + +HORATIO +[Within] Heaven secure him! + +HAMLET +So be it! + +HORATIO +[Within] Hillo, ho, ho, my lord! + +HAMLET +Hillo, ho, ho, boy! come, bird, come. + +Enter HORATIO and MARCELLUS + +MARCELLUS +How is't, my noble lord? + +HORATIO +What news, my lord? + +HAMLET +O, wonderful! + +HORATIO +Good my lord, tell it. + +HAMLET +No; you'll reveal it. + +HORATIO +Not I, my lord, by heaven. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord. + +HAMLET +How say you, then; would heart of man once think it? +But you'll be secret? + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +Ay, by heaven, my lord. + +HAMLET +There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark +But he's an arrant knave. + +HORATIO +There needs no ghost, my lord, come from the grave +To tell us this. + +HAMLET +Why, right; you are i' the right; +And so, without more circumstance at all, +I hold it fit that we shake hands and part: +You, as your business and desire shall point you; +For every man has business and desire, +Such as it is; and for mine own poor part, +Look you, I'll go pray. + +HORATIO +These are but wild and whirling words, my lord. + +HAMLET +I'm sorry they offend you, heartily; +Yes, 'faith heartily. + +HORATIO +There's no offence, my lord. + +HAMLET +Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio, +And much offence too. Touching this vision here, +It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you: +For your desire to know what is between us, +O'ermaster 't as you may. And now, good friends, +As you are friends, scholars and soldiers, +Give me one poor request. + +HORATIO +What is't, my lord? we will. + +HAMLET +Never make known what you have seen to-night. + +HORATIO MARCELLUS +My lord, we will not. + +HAMLET +Nay, but swear't. + +HORATIO +In faith, +My lord, not I. + +MARCELLUS +Nor I, my lord, in faith. + +HAMLET +Upon my sword. + +MARCELLUS +We have sworn, my lord, already. + +HAMLET +Indeed, upon my sword, indeed. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha, boy! say'st thou so? art thou there, +truepenny? +Come on--you hear this fellow in the cellarage-- +Consent to swear. + +HORATIO +Propose the oath, my lord. + +HAMLET +Never to speak of this that you have seen, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Hic et ubique? then we'll shift our ground. +Come hither, gentlemen, +And lay your hands again upon my sword: +Never to speak of this that you have heard, +Swear by my sword. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Well said, old mole! canst work i' the earth so fast? +A worthy pioner! Once more remove, good friends. + +HORATIO +O day and night, but this is wondrous strange! + +HAMLET +And therefore as a stranger give it welcome. +There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, +Than are dreamt of in your philosophy. But come; +Here, as before, never, so help you mercy, +How strange or odd soe'er I bear myself, +As I perchance hereafter shall think meet +To put an antic disposition on, +That you, at such times seeing me, never shall, +With arms encumber'd thus, or this headshake, +Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase, +As 'Well, well, we know,' or 'We could, an if we would,' +Or 'If we list to speak,' or 'There be, an if they might,' +Or such ambiguous giving out, to note +That you know aught of me: this not to do, +So grace and mercy at your most need help you, Swear. + +Ghost +[Beneath] Swear. + +HAMLET +Rest, rest, perturbed spirit! + +They swear + +So, gentlemen, +With all my love I do commend me to you: +And what so poor a man as Hamlet is +May do, to express his love and friending to you, +God willing, shall not lack. Let us go in together; +And still your fingers on your lips, I pray. +The time is out of joint: O cursed spite, +That ever I was born to set it right! +Nay, come, let's go together. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A room in POLONIUS' house. + +Enter POLONIUS and REYNALDO +LORD POLONIUS +Give him this money and these notes, Reynaldo. + +REYNALDO +I will, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +You shall do marvellous wisely, good Reynaldo, +Before you visit him, to make inquire +Of his behavior. + +REYNALDO +My lord, I did intend it. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, well said; very well said. Look you, sir, +Inquire me first what Danskers are in Paris; +And how, and who, what means, and where they keep, +What company, at what expense; and finding +By this encompassment and drift of question +That they do know my son, come you more nearer +Than your particular demands will touch it: +Take you, as 'twere, some distant knowledge of him; +As thus, 'I know his father and his friends, +And in part him: ' do you mark this, Reynaldo? + +REYNALDO +Ay, very well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +'And in part him; but' you may say 'not well: +But, if't be he I mean, he's very wild; +Addicted so and so:' and there put on him +What forgeries you please; marry, none so rank +As may dishonour him; take heed of that; +But, sir, such wanton, wild and usual slips +As are companions noted and most known +To youth and liberty. + +REYNALDO +As gaming, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Ay, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarrelling, +Drabbing: you may go so far. + +REYNALDO +My lord, that would dishonour him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Faith, no; as you may season it in the charge +You must not put another scandal on him, +That he is open to incontinency; +That's not my meaning: but breathe his faults so quaintly +That they may seem the taints of liberty, +The flash and outbreak of a fiery mind, +A savageness in unreclaimed blood, +Of general assault. + +REYNALDO +But, my good lord,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +Wherefore should you do this? + +REYNALDO +Ay, my lord, +I would know that. + +LORD POLONIUS +Marry, sir, here's my drift; +And I believe, it is a fetch of wit: +You laying these slight sullies on my son, +As 'twere a thing a little soil'd i' the working, Mark you, +Your party in converse, him you would sound, +Having ever seen in the prenominate crimes +The youth you breathe of guilty, be assured +He closes with you in this consequence; +'Good sir,' or so, or 'friend,' or 'gentleman,' +According to the phrase or the addition +Of man and country. + +REYNALDO +Very good, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And then, sir, does he this--he does--what was I +about to say? By the mass, I was about to say +something: where did I leave? + +REYNALDO +At 'closes in the consequence,' at 'friend or so,' +and 'gentleman.' + +LORD POLONIUS +At 'closes in the consequence,' ay, marry; +He closes thus: 'I know the gentleman; +I saw him yesterday, or t' other day, +Or then, or then; with such, or such; and, as you say, +There was a' gaming; there o'ertook in's rouse; +There falling out at tennis:' or perchance, +'I saw him enter such a house of sale,' +Videlicet, a brothel, or so forth. +See you now; +Your bait of falsehood takes this carp of truth: +And thus do we of wisdom and of reach, +With windlasses and with assays of bias, +By indirections find directions out: +So by my former lecture and advice, +Shall you my son. You have me, have you not? + +REYNALDO +My lord, I have. + +LORD POLONIUS +God be wi' you; fare you well. + +REYNALDO +Good my lord! + +LORD POLONIUS +Observe his inclination in yourself. + +REYNALDO +I shall, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +And let him ply his music. + +REYNALDO +Well, my lord. + +LORD POLONIUS +Farewell! + +Exit REYNALDO + +Enter OPHELIA + +How now, Ophelia! what's the matter? + +OPHELIA +O, my lord, my lord, I have been so affrighted! + +LORD POLONIUS +With what, i' the name of God? + +OPHELIA +My lord, as I was sewing in my closet, +Lord Hamlet, with his doublet all unbraced; +No hat upon his head; his stockings foul'd, +Ungarter'd, and down-gyved to his ancle; +Pale as his shirt; his knees knocking each other; +And with a look so piteous in purport +As if he had been loosed out of hell +To speak of horrors,--he comes before me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Mad for thy love? + +OPHELIA +My lord, I do not know; +But truly, I do fear it. + +LORD POLONIUS +What said he? + +OPHELIA +He took me by the wrist and held me hard; +Then goes he to the length of all his arm; +And, with his other hand thus o'er his brow, +He falls to such perusal of my face +As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so; +At last, a little shaking of mine arm +And thrice his head thus waving up and down, +He raised a sigh so piteous and profound +As it did seem to shatter all his bulk +And end his being: that done, he lets me go: +And, with his head over his shoulder turn'd, +He seem'd to find his way without his eyes; +For out o' doors he went without their helps, +And, to the last, bended their light on me. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, go with me: I will go seek the king. +This is the very ecstasy of love, +Whose violent property fordoes itself +And leads the will to desperate undertakings +As oft as any passion under heaven +That does afflict our natures. I am sorry. +What, have you given him any hard words of late? + +OPHELIA +No, my good lord, but, as you did command, +I did repel his fetters and denied +His access to me. + +LORD POLONIUS +That hath made him mad. +I am sorry that with better heed and judgment +I had not quoted him: I fear'd he did but trifle, +And meant to wreck thee; but, beshrew my jealousy! +By heaven, it is as proper to our age +To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions +As it is common for the younger sort +To lack discretion. Come, go we to the king: +This must be known; which, being kept close, might +move +More grief to hide than hate to utter love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and Attendants +KING CLAUDIUS +Welcome, dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! +Moreover that we much did long to see you, +The need we have to use you did provoke +Our hasty sending. Something have you heard +Of Hamlet's transformation; so call it, +Sith nor the exterior nor the inward man +Resembles that it was. What it should be, +More than his father's death, that thus hath put him +So much from the understanding of himself, +I cannot dream of: I entreat you both, +That, being of so young days brought up with him, +And sith so neighbour'd to his youth and havior, +That you vouchsafe your rest here in our court +Some little time: so by your companies +To draw him on to pleasures, and to gather, +So much as from occasion you may glean, +Whether aught, to us unknown, afflicts him thus, +That, open'd, lies within our remedy. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Good gentlemen, he hath much talk'd of you; +And sure I am two men there are not living +To whom he more adheres. If it will please you +To show us so much gentry and good will +As to expend your time with us awhile, +For the supply and profit of our hope, +Your visitation shall receive such thanks +As fits a king's remembrance. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Both your majesties +Might, by the sovereign power you have of us, +Put your dread pleasures more into command +Than to entreaty. + +GUILDENSTERN +But we both obey, +And here give up ourselves, in the full bent +To lay our service freely at your feet, +To be commanded. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Thanks, Guildenstern and gentle Rosencrantz: +And I beseech you instantly to visit +My too much changed son. Go, some of you, +And bring these gentlemen where Hamlet is. + +GUILDENSTERN +Heavens make our presence and our practises +Pleasant and helpful to him! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay, amen! + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and some Attendants + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +The ambassadors from Norway, my good lord, +Are joyfully return'd. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thou still hast been the father of good news. + +LORD POLONIUS +Have I, my lord? I assure my good liege, +I hold my duty, as I hold my soul, +Both to my God and to my gracious king: +And I do think, or else this brain of mine +Hunts not the trail of policy so sure +As it hath used to do, that I have found +The very cause of Hamlet's lunacy. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O, speak of that; that do I long to hear. + +LORD POLONIUS +Give first admittance to the ambassadors; +My news shall be the fruit to that great feast. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thyself do grace to them, and bring them in. + +Exit POLONIUS + +He tells me, my dear Gertrude, he hath found +The head and source of all your son's distemper. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I doubt it is no other but the main; +His father's death, and our o'erhasty marriage. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Well, we shall sift him. + +Re-enter POLONIUS, with VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +Welcome, my good friends! +Say, Voltimand, what from our brother Norway? + +VOLTIMAND +Most fair return of greetings and desires. +Upon our first, he sent out to suppress +His nephew's levies; which to him appear'd +To be a preparation 'gainst the Polack; +But, better look'd into, he truly found +It was against your highness: whereat grieved, +That so his sickness, age and impotence +Was falsely borne in hand, sends out arrests +On Fortinbras; which he, in brief, obeys; +Receives rebuke from Norway, and in fine +Makes vow before his uncle never more +To give the assay of arms against your majesty. +Whereon old Norway, overcome with joy, +Gives him three thousand crowns in annual fee, +And his commission to employ those soldiers, +So levied as before, against the Polack: +With an entreaty, herein further shown, + +Giving a paper + +That it might please you to give quiet pass +Through your dominions for this enterprise, +On such regards of safety and allowance +As therein are set down. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It likes us well; +And at our more consider'd time well read, +Answer, and think upon this business. +Meantime we thank you for your well-took labour: +Go to your rest; at night we'll feast together: +Most welcome home! + +Exeunt VOLTIMAND and CORNELIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +This business is well ended. +My liege, and madam, to expostulate +What majesty should be, what duty is, +Why day is day, night night, and time is time, +Were nothing but to waste night, day and time. +Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit, +And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, +I will be brief: your noble son is mad: +Mad call I it; for, to define true madness, +What is't but to be nothing else but mad? +But let that go. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +More matter, with less art. + +LORD POLONIUS +Madam, I swear I use no art at all. +That he is mad, 'tis true: 'tis true 'tis pity; +And pity 'tis 'tis true: a foolish figure; +But farewell it, for I will use no art. +Mad let us grant him, then: and now remains +That we find out the cause of this effect, +Or rather say, the cause of this defect, +For this effect defective comes by cause: +Thus it remains, and the remainder thus. Perpend. +I have a daughter--have while she is mine-- +Who, in her duty and obedience, mark, +Hath given me this: now gather, and surmise. + +Reads + +'To the celestial and my soul's idol, the most +beautified Ophelia,'-- +That's an ill phrase, a vile phrase; 'beautified' is +a vile phrase: but you shall hear. Thus: + +Reads + +'In her excellent white bosom, these, & c.' + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Came this from Hamlet to her? + +LORD POLONIUS +Good madam, stay awhile; I will be faithful. + +Reads + +'Doubt thou the stars are fire; +Doubt that the sun doth move; +Doubt truth to be a liar; +But never doubt I love. +'O dear Ophelia, I am ill at these numbers; +I have not art to reckon my groans: but that +I love thee best, O most best, believe it. Adieu. +'Thine evermore most dear lady, whilst +this machine is to him, HAMLET.' +This, in obedience, hath my daughter shown me, +And more above, hath his solicitings, +As they fell out by time, by means and place, +All given to mine ear. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But how hath she +Received his love? + +LORD POLONIUS +What do you think of me? + +KING CLAUDIUS +As of a man faithful and honourable. + +LORD POLONIUS +I would fain prove so. But what might you think, +When I had seen this hot love on the wing-- +As I perceived it, I must tell you that, +Before my daughter told me--what might you, +Or my dear majesty your queen here, think, +If I had play'd the desk or table-book, +Or given my heart a winking, mute and dumb, +Or look'd upon this love with idle sight; +What might you think? No, I went round to work, +And my young mistress thus I did bespeak: +'Lord Hamlet is a prince, out of thy star; +This must not be:' and then I precepts gave her, +That she should lock herself from his resort, +Admit no messengers, receive no tokens. +Which done, she took the fruits of my advice; +And he, repulsed--a short tale to make-- +Fell into a sadness, then into a fast, +Thence to a watch, thence into a weakness, +Thence to a lightness, and, by this declension, +Into the madness wherein now he raves, +And all we mourn for. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Do you think 'tis this? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +It may be, very likely. + +LORD POLONIUS +Hath there been such a time--I'd fain know that-- +That I have positively said 'Tis so,' +When it proved otherwise? + +KING CLAUDIUS +Not that I know. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Pointing to his head and shoulder] +Take this from this, if this be otherwise: +If circumstances lead me, I will find +Where truth is hid, though it were hid indeed +Within the centre. + +KING CLAUDIUS +How may we try it further? + +LORD POLONIUS +You know, sometimes he walks four hours together +Here in the lobby. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +So he does indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +At such a time I'll loose my daughter to him: +Be you and I behind an arras then; +Mark the encounter: if he love her not +And be not from his reason fall'n thereon, +Let me be no assistant for a state, +But keep a farm and carters. + +KING CLAUDIUS +We will try it. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +But, look, where sadly the poor wretch comes reading. + +LORD POLONIUS +Away, I do beseech you, both away: +I'll board him presently. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, and Attendants + +Enter HAMLET, reading + +O, give me leave: +How does my good Lord Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Well, God-a-mercy. + +LORD POLONIUS +Do you know me, my lord? + +HAMLET +Excellent well; you are a fishmonger. + +LORD POLONIUS +Not I, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then I would you were so honest a man. + +LORD POLONIUS +Honest, my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, sir; to be honest, as this world goes, is to be +one man picked out of ten thousand. + +LORD POLONIUS +That's very true, my lord. + +HAMLET +For if the sun breed maggots in a dead dog, being a +god kissing carrion,--Have you a daughter? + +LORD POLONIUS +I have, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let her not walk i' the sun: conception is a +blessing: but not as your daughter may conceive. +Friend, look to 't. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] How say you by that? Still harping on my +daughter: yet he knew me not at first; he said I +was a fishmonger: he is far gone, far gone: and +truly in my youth I suffered much extremity for +love; very near this. I'll speak to him again. +What do you read, my lord? + +HAMLET +Words, words, words. + +LORD POLONIUS +What is the matter, my lord? + +HAMLET +Between who? + +LORD POLONIUS +I mean, the matter that you read, my lord. + +HAMLET +Slanders, sir: for the satirical rogue says here +that old men have grey beards, that their faces are +wrinkled, their eyes purging thick amber and +plum-tree gum and that they have a plentiful lack of +wit, together with most weak hams: all which, sir, +though I most powerfully and potently believe, yet +I hold it not honesty to have it thus set down, for +yourself, sir, should be old as I am, if like a crab +you could go backward. + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Though this be madness, yet there is method +in 't. Will you walk out of the air, my lord? + +HAMLET +Into my grave. + +LORD POLONIUS +Indeed, that is out o' the air. + +Aside + +How pregnant sometimes his replies are! a happiness +that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity +could not so prosperously be delivered of. I will +leave him, and suddenly contrive the means of +meeting between him and my daughter.--My honourable +lord, I will most humbly take my leave of you. + +HAMLET +You cannot, sir, take from me any thing that I will +more willingly part withal: except my life, except +my life, except my life. + +LORD POLONIUS +Fare you well, my lord. + +HAMLET +These tedious old fools! + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +LORD POLONIUS +You go to seek the Lord Hamlet; there he is. + +ROSENCRANTZ +[To POLONIUS] God save you, sir! + +Exit POLONIUS + +GUILDENSTERN +My honoured lord! + +ROSENCRANTZ +My most dear lord! + +HAMLET +My excellent good friends! How dost thou, +Guildenstern? Ah, Rosencrantz! Good lads, how do ye both? + +ROSENCRANTZ +As the indifferent children of the earth. + +GUILDENSTERN +Happy, in that we are not over-happy; +On fortune's cap we are not the very button. + +HAMLET +Nor the soles of her shoe? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Neither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Then you live about her waist, or in the middle of +her favours? + +GUILDENSTERN +'Faith, her privates we. + +HAMLET +In the secret parts of fortune? O, most true; she +is a strumpet. What's the news? + +ROSENCRANTZ +None, my lord, but that the world's grown honest. + +HAMLET +Then is doomsday near: but your news is not true. +Let me question more in particular: what have you, +my good friends, deserved at the hands of fortune, +that she sends you to prison hither? + +GUILDENSTERN +Prison, my lord! + +HAMLET +Denmark's a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then is the world one. + +HAMLET +A goodly one; in which there are many confines, +wards and dungeons, Denmark being one o' the worst. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We think not so, my lord. + +HAMLET +Why, then, 'tis none to you; for there is nothing +either good or bad, but thinking makes it so: to me +it is a prison. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Why then, your ambition makes it one; 'tis too +narrow for your mind. + +HAMLET +O God, I could be bounded in a nut shell and count +myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I +have bad dreams. + +GUILDENSTERN +Which dreams indeed are ambition, for the very +substance of the ambitious is merely the shadow of a dream. + +HAMLET +A dream itself is but a shadow. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Truly, and I hold ambition of so airy and light a +quality that it is but a shadow's shadow. + +HAMLET +Then are our beggars bodies, and our monarchs and +outstretched heroes the beggars' shadows. Shall we +to the court? for, by my fay, I cannot reason. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We'll wait upon you. + +HAMLET +No such matter: I will not sort you with the rest +of my servants, for, to speak to you like an honest +man, I am most dreadfully attended. But, in the +beaten way of friendship, what make you at Elsinore? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To visit you, my lord; no other occasion. + +HAMLET +Beggar that I am, I am even poor in thanks; but I +thank you: and sure, dear friends, my thanks are +too dear a halfpenny. Were you not sent for? Is it +your own inclining? Is it a free visitation? Come, +deal justly with me: come, come; nay, speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +What should we say, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, any thing, but to the purpose. You were sent +for; and there is a kind of confession in your looks +which your modesties have not craft enough to colour: +I know the good king and queen have sent for you. + +ROSENCRANTZ +To what end, my lord? + +HAMLET +That you must teach me. But let me conjure you, by +the rights of our fellowship, by the consonancy of +our youth, by the obligation of our ever-preserved +love, and by what more dear a better proposer could +charge you withal, be even and direct with me, +whether you were sent for, or no? + +ROSENCRANTZ +[Aside to GUILDENSTERN] What say you? + +HAMLET +[Aside] Nay, then, I have an eye of you.--If you +love me, hold not off. + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, we were sent for. + +HAMLET +I will tell you why; so shall my anticipation +prevent your discovery, and your secrecy to the king +and queen moult no feather. I have of late--but +wherefore I know not--lost all my mirth, forgone all +custom of exercises; and indeed it goes so heavily +with my disposition that this goodly frame, the +earth, seems to me a sterile promontory, this most +excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave +o'erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted +with golden fire, why, it appears no other thing to +me than a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. +What a piece of work is a man! how noble in reason! +how infinite in faculty! in form and moving how +express and admirable! in action how like an angel! +in apprehension how like a god! the beauty of the +world! the paragon of animals! And yet, to me, +what is this quintessence of dust? man delights not +me: no, nor woman neither, though by your smiling +you seem to say so. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, there was no such stuff in my thoughts. + +HAMLET +Why did you laugh then, when I said 'man delights not me'? + +ROSENCRANTZ +To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what +lenten entertainment the players shall receive from +you: we coted them on the way; and hither are they +coming, to offer you service. + +HAMLET +He that plays the king shall be welcome; his majesty +shall have tribute of me; the adventurous knight +shall use his foil and target; the lover shall not +sigh gratis; the humourous man shall end his part +in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose +lungs are tickled o' the sere; and the lady shall +say her mind freely, or the blank verse shall halt +for't. What players are they? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Even those you were wont to take delight in, the +tragedians of the city. + +HAMLET +How chances it they travel? their residence, both +in reputation and profit, was better both ways. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I think their inhibition comes by the means of the +late innovation. + +HAMLET +Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was +in the city? are they so followed? + +ROSENCRANTZ +No, indeed, are they not. + +HAMLET +How comes it? do they grow rusty? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace: but +there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, +that cry out on the top of question, and are most +tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the +fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they +call them--that many wearing rapiers are afraid of +goose-quills and dare scarce come thither. + +HAMLET +What, are they children? who maintains 'em? how are +they escoted? Will they pursue the quality no +longer than they can sing? will they not say +afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common +players--as it is most like, if their means are no +better--their writers do them wrong, to make them +exclaim against their own succession? + +ROSENCRANTZ +'Faith, there has been much to do on both sides; and +the nation holds it no sin to tarre them to +controversy: there was, for a while, no money bid +for argument, unless the poet and the player went to +cuffs in the question. + +HAMLET +Is't possible? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, there has been much throwing about of brains. + +HAMLET +Do the boys carry it away? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, that they do, my lord; Hercules and his load too. + +HAMLET +It is not very strange; for mine uncle is king of +Denmark, and those that would make mows at him while +my father lived, give twenty, forty, fifty, an +hundred ducats a-piece for his picture in little. +'Sblood, there is something in this more than +natural, if philosophy could find it out. + +Flourish of trumpets within + +GUILDENSTERN +There are the players. + +HAMLET +Gentlemen, you are welcome to Elsinore. Your hands, +come then: the appurtenance of welcome is fashion +and ceremony: let me comply with you in this garb, +lest my extent to the players, which, I tell you, +must show fairly outward, should more appear like +entertainment than yours. You are welcome: but my +uncle-father and aunt-mother are deceived. + +GUILDENSTERN +In what, my dear lord? + +HAMLET +I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is +southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw. + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +Well be with you, gentlemen! + +HAMLET +Hark you, Guildenstern; and you too: at each ear a +hearer: that great baby you see there is not yet +out of his swaddling-clouts. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Happily he's the second time come to them; for they +say an old man is twice a child. + +HAMLET +I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players; +mark it. You say right, sir: o' Monday morning; +'twas so indeed. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I have news to tell you. + +HAMLET +My lord, I have news to tell you. +When Roscius was an actor in Rome,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The actors are come hither, my lord. + +HAMLET +Buz, buz! + +LORD POLONIUS +Upon mine honour,-- + +HAMLET +Then came each actor on his ass,-- + +LORD POLONIUS +The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, +comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, +historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical- +comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or +poem unlimited: Seneca cannot be too heavy, nor +Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the +liberty, these are the only men. + +HAMLET +O Jephthah, judge of Israel, what a treasure hadst thou! + +LORD POLONIUS +What a treasure had he, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'One fair daughter and no more, +The which he loved passing well.' + +LORD POLONIUS +[Aside] Still on my daughter. + +HAMLET +Am I not i' the right, old Jephthah? + +LORD POLONIUS +If you call me Jephthah, my lord, I have a daughter +that I love passing well. + +HAMLET +Nay, that follows not. + +LORD POLONIUS +What follows, then, my lord? + +HAMLET +Why, +'As by lot, God wot,' +and then, you know, +'It came to pass, as most like it was,'-- +the first row of the pious chanson will show you +more; for look, where my abridgement comes. + +Enter four or five Players + +You are welcome, masters; welcome, all. I am glad +to see thee well. Welcome, good friends. O, my old +friend! thy face is valenced since I saw thee last: +comest thou to beard me in Denmark? What, my young +lady and mistress! By'r lady, your ladyship is +nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the +altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like +apiece of uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the +ring. Masters, you are all welcome. We'll e'en +to't like French falconers, fly at any thing we see: +we'll have a speech straight: come, give us a taste +of your quality; come, a passionate speech. + +First Player +What speech, my lord? + +HAMLET +I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was +never acted; or, if it was, not above once; for the +play, I remember, pleased not the million; 'twas +caviare to the general: but it was--as I received +it, and others, whose judgments in such matters +cried in the top of mine--an excellent play, well +digested in the scenes, set down with as much +modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there +were no sallets in the lines to make the matter +savoury, nor no matter in the phrase that might +indict the author of affectation; but called it an +honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very +much more handsome than fine. One speech in it I +chiefly loved: 'twas Aeneas' tale to Dido; and +thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of +Priam's slaughter: if it live in your memory, begin +at this line: let me see, let me see-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, like the Hyrcanian beast,'-- +it is not so:--it begins with Pyrrhus:-- +'The rugged Pyrrhus, he whose sable arms, +Black as his purpose, did the night resemble +When he lay couched in the ominous horse, +Hath now this dread and black complexion smear'd +With heraldry more dismal; head to foot +Now is he total gules; horridly trick'd +With blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons, +Baked and impasted with the parching streets, +That lend a tyrannous and damned light +To their lord's murder: roasted in wrath and fire, +And thus o'er-sized with coagulate gore, +With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus +Old grandsire Priam seeks.' +So, proceed you. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and +good discretion. + +First Player +'Anon he finds him +Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword, +Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls, +Repugnant to command: unequal match'd, +Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide; +But with the whiff and wind of his fell sword +The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium, +Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top +Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash +Takes prisoner Pyrrhus' ear: for, lo! his sword, +Which was declining on the milky head +Of reverend Priam, seem'd i' the air to stick: +So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood, +And like a neutral to his will and matter, +Did nothing. +But, as we often see, against some storm, +A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, +The bold winds speechless and the orb below +As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder +Doth rend the region, so, after Pyrrhus' pause, +Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work; +And never did the Cyclops' hammers fall +On Mars's armour forged for proof eterne +With less remorse than Pyrrhus' bleeding sword +Now falls on Priam. +Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods, +In general synod 'take away her power; +Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel, +And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven, +As low as to the fiends!' + +LORD POLONIUS +This is too long. + +HAMLET +It shall to the barber's, with your beard. Prithee, +say on: he's for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he +sleeps: say on: come to Hecuba. + +First Player +'But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen--' + +HAMLET +'The mobled queen?' + +LORD POLONIUS +That's good; 'mobled queen' is good. + +First Player +'Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames +With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head +Where late the diadem stood, and for a robe, +About her lank and all o'er-teemed loins, +A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up; +Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep'd, +'Gainst Fortune's state would treason have +pronounced: +But if the gods themselves did see her then +When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport +In mincing with his sword her husband's limbs, +The instant burst of clamour that she made, +Unless things mortal move them not at all, +Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven, +And passion in the gods.' + +LORD POLONIUS +Look, whether he has not turned his colour and has +tears in's eyes. Pray you, no more. + +HAMLET +'Tis well: I'll have thee speak out the rest soon. +Good my lord, will you see the players well +bestowed? Do you hear, let them be well used; for +they are the abstract and brief chronicles of the +time: after your death you were better have a bad +epitaph than their ill report while you live. + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, I will use them according to their desert. + +HAMLET +God's bodykins, man, much better: use every man +after his desert, and who should 'scape whipping? +Use them after your own honour and dignity: the less +they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty. +Take them in. + +LORD POLONIUS +Come, sirs. + +HAMLET +Follow him, friends: we'll hear a play to-morrow. + +Exit POLONIUS with all the Players but the First + +Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the +Murder of Gonzago? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +We'll ha't to-morrow night. You could, for a need, +study a speech of some dozen or sixteen lines, which +I would set down and insert in't, could you not? + +First Player +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Very well. Follow that lord; and look you mock him +not. + +Exit First Player + +My good friends, I'll leave you till night: you are +welcome to Elsinore. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord! + +HAMLET +Ay, so, God be wi' ye; + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Now I am alone. +O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I! +Is it not monstrous that this player here, +But in a fiction, in a dream of passion, +Could force his soul so to his own conceit +That from her working all his visage wann'd, +Tears in his eyes, distraction in's aspect, +A broken voice, and his whole function suiting +With forms to his conceit? and all for nothing! +For Hecuba! +What's Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba, +That he should weep for her? What would he do, +Had he the motive and the cue for passion +That I have? He would drown the stage with tears +And cleave the general ear with horrid speech, +Make mad the guilty and appal the free, +Confound the ignorant, and amaze indeed +The very faculties of eyes and ears. Yet I, +A dull and muddy-mettled rascal, peak, +Like John-a-dreams, unpregnant of my cause, +And can say nothing; no, not for a king, +Upon whose property and most dear life +A damn'd defeat was made. Am I a coward? +Who calls me villain? breaks my pate across? +Plucks off my beard, and blows it in my face? +Tweaks me by the nose? gives me the lie i' the throat, +As deep as to the lungs? who does me this? +Ha! +'Swounds, I should take it: for it cannot be +But I am pigeon-liver'd and lack gall +To make oppression bitter, or ere this +I should have fatted all the region kites +With this slave's offal: bloody, bawdy villain! +Remorseless, treacherous, lecherous, kindless villain! +O, vengeance! +Why, what an ass am I! This is most brave, +That I, the son of a dear father murder'd, +Prompted to my revenge by heaven and hell, +Must, like a whore, unpack my heart with words, +And fall a-cursing, like a very drab, +A scullion! +Fie upon't! foh! About, my brain! I have heard +That guilty creatures sitting at a play +Have by the very cunning of the scene +Been struck so to the soul that presently +They have proclaim'd their malefactions; +For murder, though it have no tongue, will speak +With most miraculous organ. I'll have these players +Play something like the murder of my father +Before mine uncle: I'll observe his looks; +I'll tent him to the quick: if he but blench, +I know my course. The spirit that I have seen +May be the devil: and the devil hath power +To assume a pleasing shape; yea, and perhaps +Out of my weakness and my melancholy, +As he is very potent with such spirits, +Abuses me to damn me: I'll have grounds +More relative than this: the play 's the thing +Wherein I'll catch the conscience of the king. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +And can you, by no drift of circumstance, +Get from him why he puts on this confusion, +Grating so harshly all his days of quiet +With turbulent and dangerous lunacy? + +ROSENCRANTZ +He does confess he feels himself distracted; +But from what cause he will by no means speak. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nor do we find him forward to be sounded, +But, with a crafty madness, keeps aloof, +When we would bring him on to some confession +Of his true state. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did he receive you well? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Most like a gentleman. + +GUILDENSTERN +But with much forcing of his disposition. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Niggard of question; but, of our demands, +Most free in his reply. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Did you assay him? +To any pastime? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Madam, it so fell out, that certain players +We o'er-raught on the way: of these we told him; +And there did seem in him a kind of joy +To hear of it: they are about the court, +And, as I think, they have already order +This night to play before him. + +LORD POLONIUS +'Tis most true: +And he beseech'd me to entreat your majesties +To hear and see the matter. + +KING CLAUDIUS +With all my heart; and it doth much content me +To hear him so inclined. +Good gentlemen, give him a further edge, +And drive his purpose on to these delights. + +ROSENCRANTZ +We shall, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Sweet Gertrude, leave us too; +For we have closely sent for Hamlet hither, +That he, as 'twere by accident, may here +Affront Ophelia: +Her father and myself, lawful espials, +Will so bestow ourselves that, seeing, unseen, +We may of their encounter frankly judge, +And gather by him, as he is behaved, +If 't be the affliction of his love or no +That thus he suffers for. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I shall obey you. +And for your part, Ophelia, I do wish +That your good beauties be the happy cause +Of Hamlet's wildness: so shall I hope your virtues +Will bring him to his wonted way again, +To both your honours. + +OPHELIA +Madam, I wish it may. + +Exit QUEEN GERTRUDE + +LORD POLONIUS +Ophelia, walk you here. Gracious, so please you, +We will bestow ourselves. + +To OPHELIA + +Read on this book; +That show of such an exercise may colour +Your loneliness. We are oft to blame in this,-- +'Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage +And pious action we do sugar o'er +The devil himself. + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Aside] O, 'tis too true! +How smart a lash that speech doth give my conscience! +The harlot's cheek, beautied with plastering art, +Is not more ugly to the thing that helps it +Than is my deed to my most painted word: +O heavy burthen! + +LORD POLONIUS +I hear him coming: let's withdraw, my lord. + +Exeunt KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +To be, or not to be: that is the question: +Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer +The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, +Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, +And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; +No more; and by a sleep to say we end +The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks +That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation +Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep; +To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub; +For in that sleep of death what dreams may come +When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, +Must give us pause: there's the respect +That makes calamity of so long life; +For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, +The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely, +The pangs of despised love, the law's delay, +The insolence of office and the spurns +That patient merit of the unworthy takes, +When he himself might his quietus make +With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear, +To grunt and sweat under a weary life, +But that the dread of something after death, +The undiscover'd country from whose bourn +No traveller returns, puzzles the will +And makes us rather bear those ills we have +Than fly to others that we know not of? +Thus conscience does make cowards of us all; +And thus the native hue of resolution +Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought, +And enterprises of great pith and moment +With this regard their currents turn awry, +And lose the name of action.--Soft you now! +The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons +Be all my sins remember'd. + +OPHELIA +Good my lord, +How does your honour for this many a day? + +HAMLET +I humbly thank you; well, well, well. + +OPHELIA +My lord, I have remembrances of yours, +That I have longed long to re-deliver; +I pray you, now receive them. + +HAMLET +No, not I; +I never gave you aught. + +OPHELIA +My honour'd lord, you know right well you did; +And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed +As made the things more rich: their perfume lost, +Take these again; for to the noble mind +Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind. +There, my lord. + +HAMLET +Ha, ha! are you honest? + +OPHELIA +My lord? + +HAMLET +Are you fair? + +OPHELIA +What means your lordship? + +HAMLET +That if you be honest and fair, your honesty should +admit no discourse to your beauty. + +OPHELIA +Could beauty, my lord, have better commerce than +with honesty? + +HAMLET +Ay, truly; for the power of beauty will sooner +transform honesty from what it is to a bawd than the +force of honesty can translate beauty into his +likeness: this was sometime a paradox, but now the +time gives it proof. I did love you once. + +OPHELIA +Indeed, my lord, you made me believe so. + +HAMLET +You should not have believed me; for virtue cannot +so inoculate our old stock but we shall relish of +it: I loved you not. + +OPHELIA +I was the more deceived. + +HAMLET +Get thee to a nunnery: why wouldst thou be a +breeder of sinners? I am myself indifferent honest; +but yet I could accuse me of such things that it +were better my mother had not borne me: I am very +proud, revengeful, ambitious, with more offences at +my beck than I have thoughts to put them in, +imagination to give them shape, or time to act them +in. What should such fellows as I do crawling +between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves, +all; believe none of us. Go thy ways to a nunnery. +Where's your father? + +OPHELIA +At home, my lord. + +HAMLET +Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the +fool no where but in's own house. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O, help him, you sweet heavens! + +HAMLET +If thou dost marry, I'll give thee this plague for +thy dowry: be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as +snow, thou shalt not escape calumny. Get thee to a +nunnery, go: farewell. Or, if thou wilt needs +marry, marry a fool; for wise men know well enough +what monsters you make of them. To a nunnery, go, +and quickly too. Farewell. + +OPHELIA +O heavenly powers, restore him! + +HAMLET +I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God +has given you one face, and you make yourselves +another: you jig, you amble, and you lisp, and +nick-name God's creatures, and make your wantonness +your ignorance. Go to, I'll no more on't; it hath +made me mad. I say, we will have no more marriages: +those that are married already, all but one, shall +live; the rest shall keep as they are. To a +nunnery, go. + +Exit + +OPHELIA +O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown! +The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword; +The expectancy and rose of the fair state, +The glass of fashion and the mould of form, +The observed of all observers, quite, quite down! +And I, of ladies most deject and wretched, +That suck'd the honey of his music vows, +Now see that noble and most sovereign reason, +Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh; +That unmatch'd form and feature of blown youth +Blasted with ecstasy: O, woe is me, +To have seen what I have seen, see what I see! + +Re-enter KING CLAUDIUS and POLONIUS + +KING CLAUDIUS +Love! his affections do not that way tend; +Nor what he spake, though it lack'd form a little, +Was not like madness. There's something in his soul, +O'er which his melancholy sits on brood; +And I do doubt the hatch and the disclose +Will be some danger: which for to prevent, +I have in quick determination +Thus set it down: he shall with speed to England, +For the demand of our neglected tribute +Haply the seas and countries different +With variable objects shall expel +This something-settled matter in his heart, +Whereon his brains still beating puts him thus +From fashion of himself. What think you on't? + +LORD POLONIUS +It shall do well: but yet do I believe +The origin and commencement of his grief +Sprung from neglected love. How now, Ophelia! +You need not tell us what Lord Hamlet said; +We heard it all. My lord, do as you please; +But, if you hold it fit, after the play +Let his queen mother all alone entreat him +To show his grief: let her be round with him; +And I'll be placed, so please you, in the ear +Of all their conference. If she find him not, +To England send him, or confine him where +Your wisdom best shall think. + +KING CLAUDIUS +It shall be so: +Madness in great ones must not unwatch'd go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A hall in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET and Players +HAMLET +Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to +you, trippingly on the tongue: but if you mouth it, +as many of your players do, I had as lief the +town-crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air +too much with your hand, thus, but use all gently; +for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, +the whirlwind of passion, you must acquire and beget +a temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it +offends me to the soul to hear a robustious +periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to +very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings, who +for the most part are capable of nothing but +inexplicable dumbshows and noise: I would have such +a fellow whipped for o'erdoing Termagant; it +out-herods Herod: pray you, avoid it. + +First Player +I warrant your honour. + +HAMLET +Be not too tame neither, but let your own discretion +be your tutor: suit the action to the word, the +word to the action; with this special o'erstep not +the modesty of nature: for any thing so overdone is +from the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the +first and now, was and is, to hold, as 'twere, the +mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, +scorn her own image, and the very age and body of +the time his form and pressure. Now this overdone, +or come tardy off, though it make the unskilful +laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the +censure of the which one must in your allowance +o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be +players that I have seen play, and heard others +praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, +that, neither having the accent of Christians nor +the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so +strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of +nature's journeymen had made men and not made them +well, they imitated humanity so abominably. + +First Player +I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, +sir. + +HAMLET +O, reform it altogether. And let those that play +your clowns speak no more than is set down for them; +for there be of them that will themselves laugh, to +set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh +too; though, in the mean time, some necessary +question of the play be then to be considered: +that's villanous, and shows a most pitiful ambition +in the fool that uses it. Go, make you ready. + +Exeunt Players + +Enter POLONIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN + +How now, my lord! I will the king hear this piece of work? + +LORD POLONIUS +And the queen too, and that presently. + +HAMLET +Bid the players make haste. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Will you two help to hasten them? + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will, my lord. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +HAMLET +What ho! Horatio! + +Enter HORATIO + +HORATIO +Here, sweet lord, at your service. + +HAMLET +Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man +As e'er my conversation coped withal. + +HORATIO +O, my dear lord,-- + +HAMLET +Nay, do not think I flatter; +For what advancement may I hope from thee +That no revenue hast but thy good spirits, +To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd? +No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp, +And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee +Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear? +Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice +And could of men distinguish, her election +Hath seal'd thee for herself; for thou hast been +As one, in suffering all, that suffers nothing, +A man that fortune's buffets and rewards +Hast ta'en with equal thanks: and blest are those +Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled, +That they are not a pipe for fortune's finger +To sound what stop she please. Give me that man +That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him +In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart, +As I do thee.--Something too much of this.-- +There is a play to-night before the king; +One scene of it comes near the circumstance +Which I have told thee of my father's death: +I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot, +Even with the very comment of thy soul +Observe mine uncle: if his occulted guilt +Do not itself unkennel in one speech, +It is a damned ghost that we have seen, +And my imaginations are as foul +As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note; +For I mine eyes will rivet to his face, +And after we will both our judgments join +In censure of his seeming. + +HORATIO +Well, my lord: +If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing, +And 'scape detecting, I will pay the theft. + +HAMLET +They are coming to the play; I must be idle: +Get you a place. + +Danish march. A flourish. Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, POLONIUS, OPHELIA, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +KING CLAUDIUS +How fares our cousin Hamlet? + +HAMLET +Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish: I eat +the air, promise-crammed: you cannot feed capons so. + +KING CLAUDIUS +I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet; these words +are not mine. + +HAMLET +No, nor mine now. + +To POLONIUS + +My lord, you played once i' the university, you say? + +LORD POLONIUS +That did I, my lord; and was accounted a good actor. + +HAMLET +What did you enact? + +LORD POLONIUS +I did enact Julius Caesar: I was killed i' the +Capitol; Brutus killed me. + +HAMLET +It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf +there. Be the players ready? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ay, my lord; they stay upon your patience. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me. + +HAMLET +No, good mother, here's metal more attractive. + +LORD POLONIUS +[To KING CLAUDIUS] O, ho! do you mark that? + +HAMLET +Lady, shall I lie in your lap? + +Lying down at OPHELIA's feet + +OPHELIA +No, my lord. + +HAMLET +I mean, my head upon your lap? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +Do you think I meant country matters? + +OPHELIA +I think nothing, my lord. + +HAMLET +That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs. + +OPHELIA +What is, my lord? + +HAMLET +Nothing. + +OPHELIA +You are merry, my lord. + +HAMLET +Who, I? + +OPHELIA +Ay, my lord. + +HAMLET +O God, your only jig-maker. What should a man do +but be merry? for, look you, how cheerfully my +mother looks, and my father died within these two hours. + +OPHELIA +Nay, 'tis twice two months, my lord. + +HAMLET +So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for +I'll have a suit of sables. O heavens! die two +months ago, and not forgotten yet? Then there's +hope a great man's memory may outlive his life half +a year: but, by'r lady, he must build churches, +then; or else shall he suffer not thinking on, with +the hobby-horse, whose epitaph is 'For, O, for, O, +the hobby-horse is forgot.' + +Hautboys play. The dumb-show enters + +Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him, and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck: lays him down upon a bank of flowers: she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King's ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts: she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love + +Exeunt + +OPHELIA +What means this, my lord? + +HAMLET +Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief. + +OPHELIA +Belike this show imports the argument of the play. + +Enter Prologue + +HAMLET +We shall know by this fellow: the players cannot +keep counsel; they'll tell all. + +OPHELIA +Will he tell us what this show meant? + +HAMLET +Ay, or any show that you'll show him: be not you +ashamed to show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means. + +OPHELIA +You are naught, you are naught: I'll mark the play. + +Prologue +For us, and for our tragedy, +Here stooping to your clemency, +We beg your hearing patiently. + +Exit + +HAMLET +Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring? + +OPHELIA +'Tis brief, my lord. + +HAMLET +As woman's love. + +Enter two Players, King and Queen + +Player King +Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round +Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground, +And thirty dozen moons with borrow'd sheen +About the world have times twelve thirties been, +Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands +Unite commutual in most sacred bands. + +Player Queen +So many journeys may the sun and moon +Make us again count o'er ere love be done! +But, woe is me, you are so sick of late, +So far from cheer and from your former state, +That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust, +Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must: +For women's fear and love holds quantity; +In neither aught, or in extremity. +Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know; +And as my love is sized, my fear is so: +Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear; +Where little fears grow great, great love grows there. + +Player King +'Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too; +My operant powers their functions leave to do: +And thou shalt live in this fair world behind, +Honour'd, beloved; and haply one as kind +For husband shalt thou-- + +Player Queen +O, confound the rest! +Such love must needs be treason in my breast: +In second husband let me be accurst! +None wed the second but who kill'd the first. + +HAMLET +[Aside] Wormwood, wormwood. + +Player Queen +The instances that second marriage move +Are base respects of thrift, but none of love: +A second time I kill my husband dead, +When second husband kisses me in bed. + +Player King +I do believe you think what now you speak; +But what we do determine oft we break. +Purpose is but the slave to memory, +Of violent birth, but poor validity; +Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree; +But fall, unshaken, when they mellow be. +Most necessary 'tis that we forget +To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt: +What to ourselves in passion we propose, +The passion ending, doth the purpose lose. +The violence of either grief or joy +Their own enactures with themselves destroy: +Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament; +Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident. +This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange +That even our loves should with our fortunes change; +For 'tis a question left us yet to prove, +Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love. +The great man down, you mark his favourite flies; +The poor advanced makes friends of enemies. +And hitherto doth love on fortune tend; +For who not needs shall never lack a friend, +And who in want a hollow friend doth try, +Directly seasons him his enemy. +But, orderly to end where I begun, +Our wills and fates do so contrary run +That our devices still are overthrown; +Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own: +So think thou wilt no second husband wed; +But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead. + +Player Queen +Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light! +Sport and repose lock from me day and night! +To desperation turn my trust and hope! +An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope! +Each opposite that blanks the face of joy +Meet what I would have well and it destroy! +Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife, +If, once a widow, ever I be wife! + +HAMLET +If she should break it now! + +Player King +'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile; +My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile +The tedious day with sleep. + +Sleeps + +Player Queen +Sleep rock thy brain, +And never come mischance between us twain! + +Exit + +HAMLET +Madam, how like you this play? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +The lady protests too much, methinks. + +HAMLET +O, but she'll keep her word. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in 't? + +HAMLET +No, no, they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence +i' the world. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What do you call the play? + +HAMLET +The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play +is the image of a murder done in Vienna: Gonzago is +the duke's name; his wife, Baptista: you shall see +anon; 'tis a knavish piece of work: but what o' +that? your majesty and we that have free souls, it +touches us not: let the galled jade wince, our +withers are unwrung. + +Enter LUCIANUS + +This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king. + +OPHELIA +You are as good as a chorus, my lord. + +HAMLET +I could interpret between you and your love, if I +could see the puppets dallying. + +OPHELIA +You are keen, my lord, you are keen. + +HAMLET +It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge. + +OPHELIA +Still better, and worse. + +HAMLET +So you must take your husbands. Begin, murderer; +pox, leave thy damnable faces, and begin. Come: +'the croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.' + +LUCIANUS +Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; +Confederate season, else no creature seeing; +Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, +With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, +Thy natural magic and dire property, +On wholesome life usurp immediately. + +Pours the poison into the sleeper's ears + +HAMLET +He poisons him i' the garden for's estate. His +name's Gonzago: the story is extant, and writ in +choice Italian: you shall see anon how the murderer +gets the love of Gonzago's wife. + +OPHELIA +The king rises. + +HAMLET +What, frighted with false fire! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +How fares my lord? + +LORD POLONIUS +Give o'er the play. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Give me some light: away! + +All +Lights, lights, lights! + +Exeunt all but HAMLET and HORATIO + +HAMLET +Why, let the stricken deer go weep, +The hart ungalled play; +For some must watch, while some must sleep: +So runs the world away. +Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers-- if +the rest of my fortunes turn Turk with me--with two +Provincial roses on my razed shoes, get me a +fellowship in a cry of players, sir? + +HORATIO +Half a share. + +HAMLET +A whole one, I. +For thou dost know, O Damon dear, +This realm dismantled was +Of Jove himself; and now reigns here +A very, very--pajock. + +HORATIO +You might have rhymed. + +HAMLET +O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a +thousand pound. Didst perceive? + +HORATIO +Very well, my lord. + +HAMLET +Upon the talk of the poisoning? + +HORATIO +I did very well note him. + +HAMLET +Ah, ha! Come, some music! come, the recorders! +For if the king like not the comedy, +Why then, belike, he likes it not, perdy. +Come, some music! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you. + +HAMLET +Sir, a whole history. + +GUILDENSTERN +The king, sir,-- + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, what of him? + +GUILDENSTERN +Is in his retirement marvellous distempered. + +HAMLET +With drink, sir? + +GUILDENSTERN +No, my lord, rather with choler. + +HAMLET +Your wisdom should show itself more richer to +signify this to his doctor; for, for me to put him +to his purgation would perhaps plunge him into far +more choler. + +GUILDENSTERN +Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame and +start not so wildly from my affair. + +HAMLET +I am tame, sir: pronounce. + +GUILDENSTERN +The queen, your mother, in most great affliction of +spirit, hath sent me to you. + +HAMLET +You are welcome. + +GUILDENSTERN +Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right +breed. If it shall please you to make me a +wholesome answer, I will do your mother's +commandment: if not, your pardon and my return +shall be the end of my business. + +HAMLET +Sir, I cannot. + +GUILDENSTERN +What, my lord? + +HAMLET +Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseased: but, +sir, such answer as I can make, you shall command; +or, rather, as you say, my mother: therefore no +more, but to the matter: my mother, you say,-- + +ROSENCRANTZ +Then thus she says; your behavior hath struck her +into amazement and admiration. + +HAMLET +O wonderful son, that can so astonish a mother! But +is there no sequel at the heels of this mother's +admiration? Impart. + +ROSENCRANTZ +She desires to speak with you in her closet, ere you +go to bed. + +HAMLET +We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have +you any further trade with us? + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you once did love me. + +HAMLET +So I do still, by these pickers and stealers. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? you +do, surely, bar the door upon your own liberty, if +you deny your griefs to your friend. + +HAMLET +Sir, I lack advancement. + +ROSENCRANTZ +How can that be, when you have the voice of the king +himself for your succession in Denmark? + +HAMLET +Ay, but sir, 'While the grass grows,'--the proverb +is something musty. + +Re-enter Players with recorders + +O, the recorders! let me see one. To withdraw with +you:--why do you go about to recover the wind of me, +as if you would drive me into a toil? + +GUILDENSTERN +O, my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too +unmannerly. + +HAMLET +I do not well understand that. Will you play upon +this pipe? + +GUILDENSTERN +My lord, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I pray you. + +GUILDENSTERN +Believe me, I cannot. + +HAMLET +I do beseech you. + +GUILDENSTERN +I know no touch of it, my lord. + +HAMLET +'Tis as easy as lying: govern these ventages with +your lingers and thumb, give it breath with your +mouth, and it will discourse most eloquent music. +Look you, these are the stops. + +GUILDENSTERN +But these cannot I command to any utterance of +harmony; I have not the skill. + +HAMLET +Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of +me! You would play upon me; you would seem to know +my stops; you would pluck out the heart of my +mystery; you would sound me from my lowest note to +the top of my compass: and there is much music, +excellent voice, in this little organ; yet cannot +you make it speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am +easier to be played on than a pipe? Call me what +instrument you will, though you can fret me, yet you +cannot play upon me. + +Enter POLONIUS + +God bless you, sir! + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, the queen would speak with you, and +presently. + +HAMLET +Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel? + +LORD POLONIUS +By the mass, and 'tis like a camel, indeed. + +HAMLET +Methinks it is like a weasel. + +LORD POLONIUS +It is backed like a weasel. + +HAMLET +Or like a whale? + +LORD POLONIUS +Very like a whale. + +HAMLET +Then I will come to my mother by and by. They fool +me to the top of my bent. I will come by and by. + +LORD POLONIUS +I will say so. + +HAMLET +By and by is easily said. + +Exit POLONIUS + +Leave me, friends. + +Exeunt all but HAMLET + +Tis now the very witching time of night, +When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out +Contagion to this world: now could I drink hot blood, +And do such bitter business as the day +Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother. +O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever +The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom: +Let me be cruel, not unnatural: +I will speak daggers to her, but use none; +My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites; +How in my words soever she be shent, +To give them seals never, my soul, consent! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +I like him not, nor stands it safe with us +To let his madness range. Therefore prepare you; +I your commission will forthwith dispatch, +And he to England shall along with you: +The terms of our estate may not endure +Hazard so dangerous as doth hourly grow +Out of his lunacies. + +GUILDENSTERN +We will ourselves provide: +Most holy and religious fear it is +To keep those many many bodies safe +That live and feed upon your majesty. + +ROSENCRANTZ +The single and peculiar life is bound, +With all the strength and armour of the mind, +To keep itself from noyance; but much more +That spirit upon whose weal depend and rest +The lives of many. The cease of majesty +Dies not alone; but, like a gulf, doth draw +What's near it with it: it is a massy wheel, +Fix'd on the summit of the highest mount, +To whose huge spokes ten thousand lesser things +Are mortised and adjoin'd; which, when it falls, +Each small annexment, petty consequence, +Attends the boisterous ruin. Never alone +Did the king sigh, but with a general groan. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Arm you, I pray you, to this speedy voyage; +For we will fetters put upon this fear, +Which now goes too free-footed. + +ROSENCRANTZ GUILDENSTERN +We will haste us. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Enter POLONIUS + +LORD POLONIUS +My lord, he's going to his mother's closet: +Behind the arras I'll convey myself, +To hear the process; and warrant she'll tax him home: +And, as you said, and wisely was it said, +'Tis meet that some more audience than a mother, +Since nature makes them partial, should o'erhear +The speech, of vantage. Fare you well, my liege: +I'll call upon you ere you go to bed, +And tell you what I know. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thanks, dear my lord. + +Exit POLONIUS + +O, my offence is rank it smells to heaven; +It hath the primal eldest curse upon't, +A brother's murder. Pray can I not, +Though inclination be as sharp as will: +My stronger guilt defeats my strong intent; +And, like a man to double business bound, +I stand in pause where I shall first begin, +And both neglect. What if this cursed hand +Were thicker than itself with brother's blood, +Is there not rain enough in the sweet heavens +To wash it white as snow? Whereto serves mercy +But to confront the visage of offence? +And what's in prayer but this two-fold force, +To be forestalled ere we come to fall, +Or pardon'd being down? Then I'll look up; +My fault is past. But, O, what form of prayer +Can serve my turn? 'Forgive me my foul murder'? +That cannot be; since I am still possess'd +Of those effects for which I did the murder, +My crown, mine own ambition and my queen. +May one be pardon'd and retain the offence? +In the corrupted currents of this world +Offence's gilded hand may shove by justice, +And oft 'tis seen the wicked prize itself +Buys out the law: but 'tis not so above; +There is no shuffling, there the action lies +In his true nature; and we ourselves compell'd, +Even to the teeth and forehead of our faults, +To give in evidence. What then? what rests? +Try what repentance can: what can it not? +Yet what can it when one can not repent? +O wretched state! O bosom black as death! +O limed soul, that, struggling to be free, +Art more engaged! Help, angels! Make assay! +Bow, stubborn knees; and, heart with strings of steel, +Be soft as sinews of the newborn babe! +All may be well. + +Retires and kneels + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now might I do it pat, now he is praying; +And now I'll do't. And so he goes to heaven; +And so am I revenged. That would be scann'd: +A villain kills my father; and for that, +I, his sole son, do this same villain send +To heaven. +O, this is hire and salary, not revenge. +He took my father grossly, full of bread; +With all his crimes broad blown, as flush as May; +And how his audit stands who knows save heaven? +But in our circumstance and course of thought, +'Tis heavy with him: and am I then revenged, +To take him in the purging of his soul, +When he is fit and season'd for his passage? +No! +Up, sword; and know thou a more horrid hent: +When he is drunk asleep, or in his rage, +Or in the incestuous pleasure of his bed; +At gaming, swearing, or about some act +That has no relish of salvation in't; +Then trip him, that his heels may kick at heaven, +And that his soul may be as damn'd and black +As hell, whereto it goes. My mother stays: +This physic but prolongs thy sickly days. + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +[Rising] My words fly up, my thoughts remain below: +Words without thoughts never to heaven go. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The Queen's closet. + +Enter QUEEN GERTRUDE and POLONIUS +LORD POLONIUS +He will come straight. Look you lay home to him: +Tell him his pranks have been too broad to bear with, +And that your grace hath screen'd and stood between +Much heat and him. I'll sconce me even here. +Pray you, be round with him. + +HAMLET +[Within] Mother, mother, mother! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +I'll warrant you, +Fear me not: withdraw, I hear him coming. + +POLONIUS hides behind the arras + +Enter HAMLET + +HAMLET +Now, mother, what's the matter? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Hamlet, thou hast thy father much offended. + +HAMLET +Mother, you have my father much offended. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Come, come, you answer with an idle tongue. + +HAMLET +Go, go, you question with a wicked tongue. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Why, how now, Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What's the matter now? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Have you forgot me? + +HAMLET +No, by the rood, not so: +You are the queen, your husband's brother's wife; +And--would it were not so!--you are my mother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nay, then, I'll set those to you that can speak. + +HAMLET +Come, come, and sit you down; you shall not budge; +You go not till I set you up a glass +Where you may see the inmost part of you. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What wilt thou do? thou wilt not murder me? +Help, help, ho! + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] What, ho! help, help, help! + +HAMLET +[Drawing] How now! a rat? Dead, for a ducat, dead! + +Makes a pass through the arras + +LORD POLONIUS +[Behind] O, I am slain! + +Falls and dies + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O me, what hast thou done? + +HAMLET +Nay, I know not: +Is it the king? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, what a rash and bloody deed is this! + +HAMLET +A bloody deed! almost as bad, good mother, +As kill a king, and marry with his brother. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +As kill a king! + +HAMLET +Ay, lady, 'twas my word. + +Lifts up the array and discovers POLONIUS + +Thou wretched, rash, intruding fool, farewell! +I took thee for thy better: take thy fortune; +Thou find'st to be too busy is some danger. +Leave wringing of your hands: peace! sit you down, +And let me wring your heart; for so I shall, +If it be made of penetrable stuff, +If damned custom have not brass'd it so +That it is proof and bulwark against sense. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What have I done, that thou darest wag thy tongue +In noise so rude against me? + +HAMLET +Such an act +That blurs the grace and blush of modesty, +Calls virtue hypocrite, takes off the rose +From the fair forehead of an innocent love +And sets a blister there, makes marriage-vows +As false as dicers' oaths: O, such a deed +As from the body of contraction plucks +The very soul, and sweet religion makes +A rhapsody of words: heaven's face doth glow: +Yea, this solidity and compound mass, +With tristful visage, as against the doom, +Is thought-sick at the act. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Ay me, what act, +That roars so loud, and thunders in the index? + +HAMLET +Look here, upon this picture, and on this, +The counterfeit presentment of two brothers. +See, what a grace was seated on this brow; +Hyperion's curls; the front of Jove himself; +An eye like Mars, to threaten and command; +A station like the herald Mercury +New-lighted on a heaven-kissing hill; +A combination and a form indeed, +Where every god did seem to set his seal, +To give the world assurance of a man: +This was your husband. Look you now, what follows: +Here is your husband; like a mildew'd ear, +Blasting his wholesome brother. Have you eyes? +Could you on this fair mountain leave to feed, +And batten on this moor? Ha! have you eyes? +You cannot call it love; for at your age +The hey-day in the blood is tame, it's humble, +And waits upon the judgment: and what judgment +Would step from this to this? Sense, sure, you have, +Else could you not have motion; but sure, that sense +Is apoplex'd; for madness would not err, +Nor sense to ecstasy was ne'er so thrall'd +But it reserved some quantity of choice, +To serve in such a difference. What devil was't +That thus hath cozen'd you at hoodman-blind? +Eyes without feeling, feeling without sight, +Ears without hands or eyes, smelling sans all, +Or but a sickly part of one true sense +Could not so mope. +O shame! where is thy blush? Rebellious hell, +If thou canst mutine in a matron's bones, +To flaming youth let virtue be as wax, +And melt in her own fire: proclaim no shame +When the compulsive ardour gives the charge, +Since frost itself as actively doth burn +And reason panders will. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, speak no more: +Thou turn'st mine eyes into my very soul; +And there I see such black and grained spots +As will not leave their tinct. + +HAMLET +Nay, but to live +In the rank sweat of an enseamed bed, +Stew'd in corruption, honeying and making love +Over the nasty sty,-- + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O, speak to me no more; +These words, like daggers, enter in mine ears; +No more, sweet Hamlet! + +HAMLET +A murderer and a villain; +A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe +Of your precedent lord; a vice of kings; +A cutpurse of the empire and the rule, +That from a shelf the precious diadem stole, +And put it in his pocket! + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No more! + +HAMLET +A king of shreds and patches,-- + +Enter Ghost + +Save me, and hover o'er me with your wings, +You heavenly guards! What would your gracious figure? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, he's mad! + +HAMLET +Do you not come your tardy son to chide, +That, lapsed in time and passion, lets go by +The important acting of your dread command? O, say! + +Ghost +Do not forget: this visitation +Is but to whet thy almost blunted purpose. +But, look, amazement on thy mother sits: +O, step between her and her fighting soul: +Conceit in weakest bodies strongest works: +Speak to her, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +How is it with you, lady? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alas, how is't with you, +That you do bend your eye on vacancy +And with the incorporal air do hold discourse? +Forth at your eyes your spirits wildly peep; +And, as the sleeping soldiers in the alarm, +Your bedded hair, like life in excrements, +Starts up, and stands on end. O gentle son, +Upon the heat and flame of thy distemper +Sprinkle cool patience. Whereon do you look? + +HAMLET +On him, on him! Look you, how pale he glares! +His form and cause conjoin'd, preaching to stones, +Would make them capable. Do not look upon me; +Lest with this piteous action you convert +My stern effects: then what I have to do +Will want true colour; tears perchance for blood. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To whom do you speak this? + +HAMLET +Do you see nothing there? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Nothing at all; yet all that is I see. + +HAMLET +Nor did you nothing hear? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +No, nothing but ourselves. + +HAMLET +Why, look you there! look, how it steals away! +My father, in his habit as he lived! +Look, where he goes, even now, out at the portal! + +Exit Ghost + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +This the very coinage of your brain: +This bodiless creation ecstasy +Is very cunning in. + +HAMLET +Ecstasy! +My pulse, as yours, doth temperately keep time, +And makes as healthful music: it is not madness +That I have utter'd: bring me to the test, +And I the matter will re-word; which madness +Would gambol from. Mother, for love of grace, +Lay not that mattering unction to your soul, +That not your trespass, but my madness speaks: +It will but skin and film the ulcerous place, +Whilst rank corruption, mining all within, +Infects unseen. Confess yourself to heaven; +Repent what's past; avoid what is to come; +And do not spread the compost on the weeds, +To make them ranker. Forgive me this my virtue; +For in the fatness of these pursy times +Virtue itself of vice must pardon beg, +Yea, curb and woo for leave to do him good. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +O Hamlet, thou hast cleft my heart in twain. + +HAMLET +O, throw away the worser part of it, +And live the purer with the other half. +Good night: but go not to mine uncle's bed; +Assume a virtue, if you have it not. +That monster, custom, who all sense doth eat, +Of habits devil, is angel yet in this, +That to the use of actions fair and good +He likewise gives a frock or livery, +That aptly is put on. Refrain to-night, +And that shall lend a kind of easiness +To the next abstinence: the next more easy; +For use almost can change the stamp of nature, +And either [ ] the devil, or throw him out +With wondrous potency. Once more, good night: +And when you are desirous to be bless'd, +I'll blessing beg of you. For this same lord, + +Pointing to POLONIUS + +I do repent: but heaven hath pleased it so, +To punish me with this and this with me, +That I must be their scourge and minister. +I will bestow him, and will answer well +The death I gave him. So, again, good night. +I must be cruel, only to be kind: +Thus bad begins and worse remains behind. +One word more, good lady. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +What shall I do? + +HAMLET +Not this, by no means, that I bid you do: +Let the bloat king tempt you again to bed; +Pinch wanton on your cheek; call you his mouse; +And let him, for a pair of reechy kisses, +Or paddling in your neck with his damn'd fingers, +Make you to ravel all this matter out, +That I essentially am not in madness, +But mad in craft. 'Twere good you let him know; +For who, that's but a queen, fair, sober, wise, +Would from a paddock, from a bat, a gib, +Such dear concernings hide? who would do so? +No, in despite of sense and secrecy, +Unpeg the basket on the house's top. +Let the birds fly, and, like the famous ape, +To try conclusions, in the basket creep, +And break your own neck down. + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Be thou assured, if words be made of breath, +And breath of life, I have no life to breathe +What thou hast said to me. + +HAMLET +I must to England; you know that? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Alack, +I had forgot: 'tis so concluded on. + +HAMLET +There's letters seal'd: and my two schoolfellows, +Whom I will trust as I will adders fang'd, +They bear the mandate; they must sweep my way, +And marshal me to knavery. Let it work; +For 'tis the sport to have the engineer +Hoist with his own petard: and 't shall go hard +But I will delve one yard below their mines, +And blow them at the moon: O, 'tis most sweet, +When in one line two crafts directly meet. +This man shall set me packing: +I'll lug the guts into the neighbour room. +Mother, good night. Indeed this counsellor +Is now most still, most secret and most grave, +Who was in life a foolish prating knave. +Come, sir, to draw toward an end with you. +Good night, mother. + +Exeunt severally; HAMLET dragging in POLONIUS + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, QUEEN GERTRUDE, ROSENCRANTZ, and GUILDENSTERN +KING CLAUDIUS +There's matter in these sighs, these profound heaves: +You must translate: 'tis fit we understand them. +Where is your son? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Bestow this place on us a little while. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Ah, my good lord, what have I seen to-night! + +KING CLAUDIUS +What, Gertrude? How does Hamlet? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +Mad as the sea and wind, when both contend +Which is the mightier: in his lawless fit, +Behind the arras hearing something stir, +Whips out his rapier, cries, 'A rat, a rat!' +And, in this brainish apprehension, kills +The unseen good old man. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O heavy deed! +It had been so with us, had we been there: +His liberty is full of threats to all; +To you yourself, to us, to every one. +Alas, how shall this bloody deed be answer'd? +It will be laid to us, whose providence +Should have kept short, restrain'd and out of haunt, +This mad young man: but so much was our love, +We would not understand what was most fit; +But, like the owner of a foul disease, +To keep it from divulging, let it feed +Even on the pith of Life. Where is he gone? + +QUEEN GERTRUDE +To draw apart the body he hath kill'd: +O'er whom his very madness, like some ore +Among a mineral of metals base, +Shows itself pure; he weeps for what is done. + +KING CLAUDIUS +O Gertrude, come away! +The sun no sooner shall the mountains touch, +But we will ship him hence: and this vile deed +We must, with all our majesty and skill, +Both countenance and excuse. Ho, Guildenstern! + +Re-enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Friends both, go join you with some further aid: +Hamlet in madness hath Polonius slain, +And from his mother's closet hath he dragg'd him: +Go seek him out; speak fair, and bring the body +Into the chapel. I pray you, haste in this. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +Come, Gertrude, we'll call up our wisest friends; +And let them know, both what we mean to do, +And what's untimely done. O, come away! +My soul is full of discord and dismay. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another room in the castle. + +Enter HAMLET +HAMLET +Safely stowed. + +ROSENCRANTZ: GUILDENSTERN: +[Within] Hamlet! Lord Hamlet! + +HAMLET +What noise? who calls on Hamlet? +O, here they come. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +ROSENCRANTZ +What have you done, my lord, with the dead body? + +HAMLET +Compounded it with dust, whereto 'tis kin. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Tell us where 'tis, that we may take it thence +And bear it to the chapel. + +HAMLET +Do not believe it. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Believe what? + +HAMLET +That I can keep your counsel and not mine own. +Besides, to be demanded of a sponge! what +replication should be made by the son of a king? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Take you me for a sponge, my lord? + +HAMLET +Ay, sir, that soaks up the king's countenance, his +rewards, his authorities. But such officers do the +king best service in the end: he keeps them, like +an ape, in the corner of his jaw; first mouthed, to +be last swallowed: when he needs what you have +gleaned, it is but squeezing you, and, sponge, you +shall be dry again. + +ROSENCRANTZ +I understand you not, my lord. + +HAMLET +I am glad of it: a knavish speech sleeps in a +foolish ear. + +ROSENCRANTZ +My lord, you must tell us where the body is, and go +with us to the king. + +HAMLET +The body is with the king, but the king is not with +the body. The king is a thing-- + +GUILDENSTERN +A thing, my lord! + +HAMLET +Of nothing: bring me to him. Hide fox, and all after. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Another room in the castle. + +Enter KING CLAUDIUS, attended +KING CLAUDIUS +I have sent to seek him, and to find the body. +How dangerous is it that this man goes loose! +Yet must not we put the strong law on him: +He's loved of the distracted multitude, +Who like not in their judgment, but their eyes; +And where tis so, the offender's scourge is weigh'd, +But never the offence. To bear all smooth and even, +This sudden sending him away must seem +Deliberate pause: diseases desperate grown +By desperate appliance are relieved, +Or not at all. + +Enter ROSENCRANTZ + +How now! what hath befall'n? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Where the dead body is bestow'd, my lord, +We cannot get from him. + +KING CLAUDIUS +But where is he? + +ROSENCRANTZ +Without, my lord; guarded, to know your pleasure. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Bring him before us. + +ROSENCRANTZ +Ho, Guildenstern! bring in my lord. + +Enter HAMLET and GUILDENSTERN + +KING CLAUDIUS +Now, Hamlet, where's Polonius? + +HAMLET +At supper. + +KING CLAUDIUS +At supper! where? + +HAMLET +Not where he eats, but where he is eaten: a certain +convocation of politic worms are e'en at him. Your +worm is your only emperor for diet: we fat all +creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for +maggots: your fat king and your lean beggar is but +variable service, two dishes, but to one table: +that's the end. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Alas, alas! + +HAMLET +A man may fish with the worm that hath eat of a +king, and cat of the fish that hath fed of that worm. + +KING CLAUDIUS +What dost you mean by this? + +HAMLET +Nothing but to show you how a king may go a +progress through the guts of a beggar. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Where is Polonius? + +HAMLET +In heaven; send hither to see: if your messenger +find him not there, seek him i' the other place +yourself. But indeed, if you find him not within +this month, you shall nose him as you go up the +stairs into the lobby. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Go seek him there. + +To some Attendants + +HAMLET +He will stay till ye come. + +Exeunt Attendants + +KING CLAUDIUS +Hamlet, this deed, for thine especial safety,-- +Which we do tender, as we dearly grieve +For that which thou hast done,--must send thee hence +With fiery quickness: therefore prepare thyself; +The bark is ready, and the wind at help, +The associates tend, and every thing is bent +For England. + +HAMLET +For England! + +KING CLAUDIUS +Ay, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +Good. + +KING CLAUDIUS +So is it, if thou knew'st our purposes. + +HAMLET +I see a cherub that sees them. But, come; for +England! Farewell, dear mother. + +KING CLAUDIUS +Thy loving father, Hamlet. + +HAMLET +My mother: father and mother is man and wife; man +and wife is one flesh; and so, my mother. Come, for England! + +Exit + +KING CLAUDIUS +Follow him at foot; tempt him with speed aboard; +Delay it not; I'll have him hence to-night: +Away! for every thing is seal'd and done +That else leans on the affair: pray you, make haste. + +Exeunt ROSENCRANTZ and GUILDENSTERN + +And, England, if my love thou hold'st at aught-- +As my great power thereof may give thee sense, +Since yet thy cicatrice looks raw and red +After the Danish sword, and thy free awe +Pays homage to us--thou mayst not coldly set +Our sovereign process; which imports at full, +By letters congruing to that effect, +The present death of Hamlet. Do it, England; +For like the hectic in my blood he rages, +And thou must cure me: till I know 'tis done, +Howe'er my haps, my joys were ne'er begun. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. A plain in Denmark. + +Enter FORTINBRAS, a Captain, and Soldiers, marching +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go, captain, from me greet the Danish king; +Tell him that, by his licence, Fortinbras +Craves the conveyance of a promised march +Over his kingdom. You know the rendezvous. +If that his majesty would aught with us, +We shall express our duty in his eye; +And let him know so. + +Captain +I will do't, my lord. + +PRINCE FORTINBRAS +Go softly on. + +Exeunt FORTINBRAS and Soldiers + +Enter HAMLET, ROSENCRANTZ, GUILDENSTERN, and others + +HAMLET +Good sir, whose powers are these? + +Captain +They are of Norway, sir. + +HAMLET +How purposed, sir, I pray you? + +Captain +Against some part of Poland. + +HAMLET +Who commands them, sir? + +Captain +The nephews to old Norway, Fortinbras. + +HAMLET +Goes it against the main of Poland, sir, +Or for some frontier? + +Captain +Truly to speak, and with no addition, +We go to gain a little patch of ground +That hath in it no profit but the name. +To pay five ducats, five, I would not farm it; +Nor will it yield to Norway or the Pole +A ranker rate, should it be sold in fee. + +HAMLET +Why, then the Polack never will defend it. + +Captain +Yes, it is already garrison'd. + +HAMLET +Two thousand souls and twenty thousand ducats +Will not debate the question of this straw: +This is the imposthume of much wealth and peace, +That inward breaks, and shows no cause without +Why the man dies. I humbly thank you, sir. + +All's Well That Ends Well +Shakespeare homepage | All's Well That Ends Well | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, the COUNTESS of Rousillon, HELENA, and LAFEU, all in black +COUNTESS +In delivering my son from me, I bury a second husband. + +BERTRAM +And I in going, madam, weep o'er my father's death +anew: but I must attend his majesty's command, to +whom I am now in ward, evermore in subjection. + +LAFEU +You shall find of the king a husband, madam; you, +sir, a father: he that so generally is at all times +good must of necessity hold his virtue to you; whose +worthiness would stir it up where it wanted rather +than lack it where there is such abundance. + +COUNTESS +What hope is there of his majesty's amendment? + +LAFEU +He hath abandoned his physicians, madam; under whose +practises he hath persecuted time with hope, and +finds no other advantage in the process but only the +losing of hope by time. + +COUNTESS +This young gentlewoman had a father,--O, that +'had'! how sad a passage 'tis!--whose skill was +almost as great as his honesty; had it stretched so +far, would have made nature immortal, and death +should have play for lack of work. Would, for the +king's sake, he were living! I think it would be +the death of the king's disease. + +LAFEU +How called you the man you speak of, madam? + +COUNTESS +He was famous, sir, in his profession, and it was +his great right to be so: Gerard de Narbon. + +LAFEU +He was excellent indeed, madam: the king very +lately spoke of him admiringly and mourningly: he +was skilful enough to have lived still, if knowledge +could be set up against mortality. + +BERTRAM +What is it, my good lord, the king languishes of? + +LAFEU +A fistula, my lord. + +BERTRAM +I heard not of it before. + +LAFEU +I would it were not notorious. Was this gentlewoman +the daughter of Gerard de Narbon? + +COUNTESS +His sole child, my lord, and bequeathed to my +overlooking. I have those hopes of her good that +her education promises; her dispositions she +inherits, which makes fair gifts fairer; for where +an unclean mind carries virtuous qualities, there +commendations go with pity; they are virtues and +traitors too; in her they are the better for their +simpleness; she derives her honesty and achieves her goodness. + +LAFEU +Your commendations, madam, get from her tears. + +COUNTESS +'Tis the best brine a maiden can season her praise +in. The remembrance of her father never approaches +her heart but the tyranny of her sorrows takes all +livelihood from her cheek. No more of this, Helena; +go to, no more; lest it be rather thought you affect +a sorrow than have it. + +HELENA +I do affect a sorrow indeed, but I have it too. + +LAFEU +Moderate lamentation is the right of the dead, +excessive grief the enemy to the living. + +COUNTESS +If the living be enemy to the grief, the excess +makes it soon mortal. + +BERTRAM +Madam, I desire your holy wishes. + +LAFEU +How understand we that? + +COUNTESS +Be thou blest, Bertram, and succeed thy father +In manners, as in shape! thy blood and virtue +Contend for empire in thee, and thy goodness +Share with thy birthright! Love all, trust a few, +Do wrong to none: be able for thine enemy +Rather in power than use, and keep thy friend +Under thy own life's key: be cheque'd for silence, +But never tax'd for speech. What heaven more will, +That thee may furnish and my prayers pluck down, +Fall on thy head! Farewell, my lord; +'Tis an unseason'd courtier; good my lord, +Advise him. + +LAFEU +He cannot want the best +That shall attend his love. + +COUNTESS +Heaven bless him! Farewell, Bertram. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +[To HELENA] The best wishes that can be forged in +your thoughts be servants to you! Be comfortable +to my mother, your mistress, and make much of her. + +LAFEU +Farewell, pretty lady: you must hold the credit of +your father. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and LAFEU + +HELENA +O, were that all! I think not on my father; +And these great tears grace his remembrance more +Than those I shed for him. What was he like? +I have forgot him: my imagination +Carries no favour in't but Bertram's. +I am undone: there is no living, none, +If Bertram be away. 'Twere all one +That I should love a bright particular star +And think to wed it, he is so above me: +In his bright radiance and collateral light +Must I be comforted, not in his sphere. +The ambition in my love thus plagues itself: +The hind that would be mated by the lion +Must die for love. 'Twas pretty, though plague, +To see him every hour; to sit and draw +His arched brows, his hawking eye, his curls, +In our heart's table; heart too capable +Of every line and trick of his sweet favour: +But now he's gone, and my idolatrous fancy +Must sanctify his reliques. Who comes here? + +Enter PAROLLES + +Aside + +One that goes with him: I love him for his sake; +And yet I know him a notorious liar, +Think him a great way fool, solely a coward; +Yet these fixed evils sit so fit in him, +That they take place, when virtue's steely bones +Look bleak i' the cold wind: withal, full oft we see +Cold wisdom waiting on superfluous folly. + +PAROLLES +Save you, fair queen! + +HELENA +And you, monarch! + +PAROLLES +No. + +HELENA +And no. + +PAROLLES +Are you meditating on virginity? + +HELENA +Ay. You have some stain of soldier in you: let me +ask you a question. Man is enemy to virginity; how +may we barricado it against him? + +PAROLLES +Keep him out. + +HELENA +But he assails; and our virginity, though valiant, +in the defence yet is weak: unfold to us some +warlike resistance. + +PAROLLES +There is none: man, sitting down before you, will +undermine you and blow you up. + +HELENA +Bless our poor virginity from underminers and +blowers up! Is there no military policy, how +virgins might blow up men? + +PAROLLES +Virginity being blown down, man will quicklier be +blown up: marry, in blowing him down again, with +the breach yourselves made, you lose your city. It +is not politic in the commonwealth of nature to +preserve virginity. Loss of virginity is rational +increase and there was never virgin got till +virginity was first lost. That you were made of is +metal to make virgins. Virginity by being once lost +may be ten times found; by being ever kept, it is +ever lost: 'tis too cold a companion; away with 't! + +HELENA +I will stand for 't a little, though therefore I die a virgin. + +PAROLLES +There's little can be said in 't; 'tis against the +rule of nature. To speak on the part of virginity, +is to accuse your mothers; which is most infallible +disobedience. He that hangs himself is a virgin: +virginity murders itself and should be buried in +highways out of all sanctified limit, as a desperate +offendress against nature. Virginity breeds mites, +much like a cheese; consumes itself to the very +paring, and so dies with feeding his own stomach. +Besides, virginity is peevish, proud, idle, made of +self-love, which is the most inhibited sin in the +canon. Keep it not; you cannot choose but loose +by't: out with 't! within ten year it will make +itself ten, which is a goodly increase; and the +principal itself not much the worse: away with 't! + +HELENA +How might one do, sir, to lose it to her own liking? + +PAROLLES +Let me see: marry, ill, to like him that ne'er it +likes. 'Tis a commodity will lose the gloss with +lying; the longer kept, the less worth: off with 't +while 'tis vendible; answer the time of request. +Virginity, like an old courtier, wears her cap out +of fashion: richly suited, but unsuitable: just +like the brooch and the tooth-pick, which wear not +now. Your date is better in your pie and your +porridge than in your cheek; and your virginity, +your old virginity, is like one of our French +withered pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, +'tis a withered pear; it was formerly better; +marry, yet 'tis a withered pear: will you anything with it? + +HELENA +Not my virginity yet [ ] +There shall your master have a thousand loves, +A mother and a mistress and a friend, +A phoenix, captain and an enemy, +A guide, a goddess, and a sovereign, +A counsellor, a traitress, and a dear; +His humble ambition, proud humility, +His jarring concord, and his discord dulcet, +His faith, his sweet disaster; with a world +Of pretty, fond, adoptious christendoms, +That blinking Cupid gossips. Now shall he-- +I know not what he shall. God send him well! +The court's a learning place, and he is one-- + +PAROLLES +What one, i' faith? + +HELENA +That I wish well. 'Tis pity-- + +PAROLLES +What's pity? + +HELENA +That wishing well had not a body in't, +Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born, +Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes, +Might with effects of them follow our friends, +And show what we alone must think, which never +Return us thanks. + +Enter Page + +Page +Monsieur Parolles, my lord calls for you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Little Helen, farewell; if I can remember thee, I +will think of thee at court. + +HELENA +Monsieur Parolles, you were born under a charitable star. + +PAROLLES +Under Mars, I. + +HELENA +I especially think, under Mars. + +PAROLLES +Why under Mars? + +HELENA +The wars have so kept you under that you must needs +be born under Mars. + +PAROLLES +When he was predominant. + +HELENA +When he was retrograde, I think, rather. + +PAROLLES +Why think you so? + +HELENA +You go so much backward when you fight. + +PAROLLES +That's for advantage. + +HELENA +So is running away, when fear proposes the safety; +but the composition that your valour and fear makes +in you is a virtue of a good wing, and I like the wear well. + +PAROLLES +I am so full of businesses, I cannot answer thee +acutely. I will return perfect courtier; in the +which, my instruction shall serve to naturalize +thee, so thou wilt be capable of a courtier's +counsel and understand what advice shall thrust upon +thee; else thou diest in thine unthankfulness, and +thine ignorance makes thee away: farewell. When +thou hast leisure, say thy prayers; when thou hast +none, remember thy friends; get thee a good husband, +and use him as he uses thee; so, farewell. + +Exit + +HELENA +Our remedies oft in ourselves do lie, +Which we ascribe to heaven: the fated sky +Gives us free scope, only doth backward pull +Our slow designs when we ourselves are dull. +What power is it which mounts my love so high, +That makes me see, and cannot feed mine eye? +The mightiest space in fortune nature brings +To join like likes and kiss like native things. +Impossible be strange attempts to those +That weigh their pains in sense and do suppose +What hath been cannot be: who ever strove +So show her merit, that did miss her love? +The king's disease--my project may deceive me, +But my intents are fix'd and will not leave me. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING of France, with letters, and divers Attendants +KING +The Florentines and Senoys are by the ears; +Have fought with equal fortune and continue +A braving war. + +First Lord +So 'tis reported, sir. + +KING +Nay, 'tis most credible; we here received it +A certainty, vouch'd from our cousin Austria, +With caution that the Florentine will move us +For speedy aid; wherein our dearest friend +Prejudicates the business and would seem +To have us make denial. + +First Lord +His love and wisdom, +Approved so to your majesty, may plead +For amplest credence. + +KING +He hath arm'd our answer, +And Florence is denied before he comes: +Yet, for our gentlemen that mean to see +The Tuscan service, freely have they leave +To stand on either part. + +Second Lord +It well may serve +A nursery to our gentry, who are sick +For breathing and exploit. + +KING +What's he comes here? + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES + +First Lord +It is the Count Rousillon, my good lord, +Young Bertram. + +KING +Youth, thou bear'st thy father's face; +Frank nature, rather curious than in haste, +Hath well composed thee. Thy father's moral parts +Mayst thou inherit too! Welcome to Paris. + +BERTRAM +My thanks and duty are your majesty's. + +KING +I would I had that corporal soundness now, +As when thy father and myself in friendship +First tried our soldiership! He did look far +Into the service of the time and was +Discipled of the bravest: he lasted long; +But on us both did haggish age steal on +And wore us out of act. It much repairs me +To talk of your good father. In his youth +He had the wit which I can well observe +To-day in our young lords; but they may jest +Till their own scorn return to them unnoted +Ere they can hide their levity in honour; +So like a courtier, contempt nor bitterness +Were in his pride or sharpness; if they were, +His equal had awaked them, and his honour, +Clock to itself, knew the true minute when +Exception bid him speak, and at this time +His tongue obey'd his hand: who were below him +He used as creatures of another place +And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks, +Making them proud of his humility, +In their poor praise he humbled. Such a man +Might be a copy to these younger times; +Which, follow'd well, would demonstrate them now +But goers backward. + +BERTRAM +His good remembrance, sir, +Lies richer in your thoughts than on his tomb; +So in approof lives not his epitaph +As in your royal speech. + +KING +Would I were with him! He would always say-- +Methinks I hear him now; his plausive words +He scatter'd not in ears, but grafted them, +To grow there and to bear,--'Let me not live,'-- +This his good melancholy oft began, +On the catastrophe and heel of pastime, +When it was out,--'Let me not live,' quoth he, +'After my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff +Of younger spirits, whose apprehensive senses +All but new things disdain; whose judgments are +Mere fathers of their garments; whose constancies +Expire before their fashions.' This he wish'd; +I after him do after him wish too, +Since I nor wax nor honey can bring home, +I quickly were dissolved from my hive, +To give some labourers room. + +Second Lord +You are loved, sir: +They that least lend it you shall lack you first. + +KING +I fill a place, I know't. How long is't, count, +Since the physician at your father's died? +He was much famed. + +BERTRAM +Some six months since, my lord. + +KING +If he were living, I would try him yet. +Lend me an arm; the rest have worn me out +With several applications; nature and sickness +Debate it at their leisure. Welcome, count; +My son's no dearer. + +BERTRAM +Thank your majesty. + +Exeunt. Flourish + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, Steward, and Clown +COUNTESS +I will now hear; what say you of this gentlewoman? + +Steward +Madam, the care I have had to even your content, I +wish might be found in the calendar of my past +endeavours; for then we wound our modesty and make +foul the clearness of our deservings, when of +ourselves we publish them. + +COUNTESS +What does this knave here? Get you gone, sirrah: +the complaints I have heard of you I do not all +believe: 'tis my slowness that I do not; for I know +you lack not folly to commit them, and have ability +enough to make such knaveries yours. + +Clown +'Tis not unknown to you, madam, I am a poor fellow. + +COUNTESS +Well, sir. + +Clown +No, madam, 'tis not so well that I am poor, though +many of the rich are damned: but, if I may have +your ladyship's good will to go to the world, Isbel +the woman and I will do as we may. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou needs be a beggar? + +Clown +I do beg your good will in this case. + +COUNTESS +In what case? + +Clown +In Isbel's case and mine own. Service is no +heritage: and I think I shall never have the +blessing of God till I have issue o' my body; for +they say barnes are blessings. + +COUNTESS +Tell me thy reason why thou wilt marry. + +Clown +My poor body, madam, requires it: I am driven on +by the flesh; and he must needs go that the devil drives. + +COUNTESS +Is this all your worship's reason? + +Clown +Faith, madam, I have other holy reasons such as they +are. + +COUNTESS +May the world know them? + +Clown +I have been, madam, a wicked creature, as you and +all flesh and blood are; and, indeed, I do marry +that I may repent. + +COUNTESS +Thy marriage, sooner than thy wickedness. + +Clown +I am out o' friends, madam; and I hope to have +friends for my wife's sake. + +COUNTESS +Such friends are thine enemies, knave. + +Clown +You're shallow, madam, in great friends; for the +knaves come to do that for me which I am aweary of. +He that ears my land spares my team and gives me +leave to in the crop; if I be his cuckold, he's my +drudge: he that comforts my wife is the cherisher +of my flesh and blood; he that cherishes my flesh +and blood loves my flesh and blood; he that loves my +flesh and blood is my friend: ergo, he that kisses +my wife is my friend. If men could be contented to +be what they are, there were no fear in marriage; +for young Charbon the Puritan and old Poysam the +Papist, howsome'er their hearts are severed in +religion, their heads are both one; they may jowl +horns together, like any deer i' the herd. + +COUNTESS +Wilt thou ever be a foul-mouthed and calumnious knave? + +Clown +A prophet I, madam; and I speak the truth the next +way: +For I the ballad will repeat, +Which men full true shall find; +Your marriage comes by destiny, +Your cuckoo sings by kind. + +COUNTESS +Get you gone, sir; I'll talk with you more anon. + +Steward +May it please you, madam, that he bid Helen come to +you: of her I am to speak. + +COUNTESS +Sirrah, tell my gentlewoman I would speak with her; +Helen, I mean. + +Clown +Was this fair face the cause, quoth she, +Why the Grecians sacked Troy? +Fond done, done fond, +Was this King Priam's joy? +With that she sighed as she stood, +With that she sighed as she stood, +And gave this sentence then; +Among nine bad if one be good, +Among nine bad if one be good, +There's yet one good in ten. + +COUNTESS +What, one good in ten? you corrupt the song, sirrah. + +Clown +One good woman in ten, madam; which is a purifying +o' the song: would God would serve the world so all +the year! we'ld find no fault with the tithe-woman, +if I were the parson. One in ten, quoth a'! An we +might have a good woman born but one every blazing +star, or at an earthquake, 'twould mend the lottery +well: a man may draw his heart out, ere a' pluck +one. + +COUNTESS +You'll be gone, sir knave, and do as I command you. + +Clown +That man should be at woman's command, and yet no +hurt done! Though honesty be no puritan, yet it +will do no hurt; it will wear the surplice of +humility over the black gown of a big heart. I am +going, forsooth: the business is for Helen to come hither. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +Well, now. + +Steward +I know, madam, you love your gentlewoman entirely. + +COUNTESS +Faith, I do: her father bequeathed her to me; and +she herself, without other advantage, may lawfully +make title to as much love as she finds: there is +more owing her than is paid; and more shall be paid +her than she'll demand. + +Steward +Madam, I was very late more near her than I think +she wished me: alone she was, and did communicate +to herself her own words to her own ears; she +thought, I dare vow for her, they touched not any +stranger sense. Her matter was, she loved your son: +Fortune, she said, was no goddess, that had put +such difference betwixt their two estates; Love no +god, that would not extend his might, only where +qualities were level; Dian no queen of virgins, that +would suffer her poor knight surprised, without +rescue in the first assault or ransom afterward. +This she delivered in the most bitter touch of +sorrow that e'er I heard virgin exclaim in: which I +held my duty speedily to acquaint you withal; +sithence, in the loss that may happen, it concerns +you something to know it. + +COUNTESS +You have discharged this honestly; keep it to +yourself: many likelihoods informed me of this +before, which hung so tottering in the balance that +I could neither believe nor misdoubt. Pray you, +leave me: stall this in your bosom; and I thank you +for your honest care: I will speak with you further anon. + +Exit Steward + +Enter HELENA + +Even so it was with me when I was young: +If ever we are nature's, these are ours; this thorn +Doth to our rose of youth rightly belong; +Our blood to us, this to our blood is born; +It is the show and seal of nature's truth, +Where love's strong passion is impress'd in youth: +By our remembrances of days foregone, +Such were our faults, or then we thought them none. +Her eye is sick on't: I observe her now. + +HELENA +What is your pleasure, madam? + +COUNTESS +You know, Helen, +I am a mother to you. + +HELENA +Mine honourable mistress. + +COUNTESS +Nay, a mother: +Why not a mother? When I said 'a mother,' +Methought you saw a serpent: what's in 'mother,' +That you start at it? I say, I am your mother; +And put you in the catalogue of those +That were enwombed mine: 'tis often seen +Adoption strives with nature and choice breeds +A native slip to us from foreign seeds: +You ne'er oppress'd me with a mother's groan, +Yet I express to you a mother's care: +God's mercy, maiden! does it curd thy blood +To say I am thy mother? What's the matter, +That this distemper'd messenger of wet, +The many-colour'd Iris, rounds thine eye? +Why? that you are my daughter? + +HELENA +That I am not. + +COUNTESS +I say, I am your mother. + +HELENA +Pardon, madam; +The Count Rousillon cannot be my brother: +I am from humble, he from honour'd name; +No note upon my parents, his all noble: +My master, my dear lord he is; and I +His servant live, and will his vassal die: +He must not be my brother. + +COUNTESS +Nor I your mother? + +HELENA +You are my mother, madam; would you were,-- +So that my lord your son were not my brother,-- +Indeed my mother! or were you both our mothers, +I care no more for than I do for heaven, +So I were not his sister. Can't no other, +But, I your daughter, he must be my brother? + +COUNTESS +Yes, Helen, you might be my daughter-in-law: +God shield you mean it not! daughter and mother +So strive upon your pulse. What, pale again? +My fear hath catch'd your fondness: now I see +The mystery of your loneliness, and find +Your salt tears' head: now to all sense 'tis gross +You love my son; invention is ashamed, +Against the proclamation of thy passion, +To say thou dost not: therefore tell me true; +But tell me then, 'tis so; for, look thy cheeks +Confess it, th' one to th' other; and thine eyes +See it so grossly shown in thy behaviors +That in their kind they speak it: only sin +And hellish obstinacy tie thy tongue, +That truth should be suspected. Speak, is't so? +If it be so, you have wound a goodly clew; +If it be not, forswear't: howe'er, I charge thee, +As heaven shall work in me for thine avail, +Tell me truly. + +HELENA +Good madam, pardon me! + +COUNTESS +Do you love my son? + +HELENA +Your pardon, noble mistress! + +COUNTESS +Love you my son? + +HELENA +Do not you love him, madam? + +COUNTESS +Go not about; my love hath in't a bond, +Whereof the world takes note: come, come, disclose +The state of your affection; for your passions +Have to the full appeach'd. + +HELENA +Then, I confess, +Here on my knee, before high heaven and you, +That before you, and next unto high heaven, +I love your son. +My friends were poor, but honest; so's my love: +Be not offended; for it hurts not him +That he is loved of me: I follow him not +By any token of presumptuous suit; +Nor would I have him till I do deserve him; +Yet never know how that desert should be. +I know I love in vain, strive against hope; +Yet in this captious and intenible sieve +I still pour in the waters of my love +And lack not to lose still: thus, Indian-like, +Religious in mine error, I adore +The sun, that looks upon his worshipper, +But knows of him no more. My dearest madam, +Let not your hate encounter with my love +For loving where you do: but if yourself, +Whose aged honour cites a virtuous youth, +Did ever in so true a flame of liking +Wish chastely and love dearly, that your Dian +Was both herself and love: O, then, give pity +To her, whose state is such that cannot choose +But lend and give where she is sure to lose; +That seeks not to find that her search implies, +But riddle-like lives sweetly where she dies! + +COUNTESS +Had you not lately an intent,--speak truly,-- +To go to Paris? + +HELENA +Madam, I had. + +COUNTESS +Wherefore? tell true. + +HELENA +I will tell truth; by grace itself I swear. +You know my father left me some prescriptions +Of rare and proved effects, such as his reading +And manifest experience had collected +For general sovereignty; and that he will'd me +In heedfull'st reservation to bestow them, +As notes whose faculties inclusive were +More than they were in note: amongst the rest, +There is a remedy, approved, set down, +To cure the desperate languishings whereof +The king is render'd lost. + +COUNTESS +This was your motive +For Paris, was it? speak. + +HELENA +My lord your son made me to think of this; +Else Paris and the medicine and the king +Had from the conversation of my thoughts +Haply been absent then. + +COUNTESS +But think you, Helen, +If you should tender your supposed aid, +He would receive it? he and his physicians +Are of a mind; he, that they cannot help him, +They, that they cannot help: how shall they credit +A poor unlearned virgin, when the schools, +Embowell'd of their doctrine, have left off +The danger to itself? + +HELENA +There's something in't, +More than my father's skill, which was the greatest +Of his profession, that his good receipt +Shall for my legacy be sanctified +By the luckiest stars in heaven: and, would your honour +But give me leave to try success, I'ld venture +The well-lost life of mine on his grace's cure +By such a day and hour. + +COUNTESS +Dost thou believe't? + +HELENA +Ay, madam, knowingly. + +COUNTESS +Why, Helen, thou shalt have my leave and love, +Means and attendants and my loving greetings +To those of mine in court: I'll stay at home +And pray God's blessing into thy attempt: +Be gone to-morrow; and be sure of this, +What I can help thee to thou shalt not miss. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Flourish of cornets. Enter the KING, attended with divers young Lords taking leave for the Florentine war; BERTRAM, and PAROLLES +KING +Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles +Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: +Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all +The gift doth stretch itself as 'tis received, +And is enough for both. + +First Lord +'Tis our hope, sir, +After well enter'd soldiers, to return +And find your grace in health. + +KING +No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart +Will not confess he owes the malady +That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; +Whether I live or die, be you the sons +Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- +Those bated that inherit but the fall +Of the last monarchy,--see that you come +Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when +The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, +That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell. + +Second Lord +Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty! + +KING +Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: +They say, our French lack language to deny, +If they demand: beware of being captives, +Before you serve. + +Both +Our hearts receive your warnings. + +KING +Farewell. Come hither to me. + +Exit, attended + +First Lord +O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us! + +PAROLLES +'Tis not his fault, the spark. + +Second Lord +O, 'tis brave wars! + +PAROLLES +Most admirable: I have seen those wars. + +BERTRAM +I am commanded here, and kept a coil with +'Too young' and 'the next year' and ''tis too early.' + +PAROLLES +An thy mind stand to't, boy, steal away bravely. + +BERTRAM +I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, +Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, +Till honour be bought up and no sword worn +But one to dance with! By heaven, I'll steal away. + +First Lord +There's honour in the theft. + +PAROLLES +Commit it, count. + +Second Lord +I am your accessary; and so, farewell. + +BERTRAM +I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body. + +First Lord +Farewell, captain. + +Second Lord +Sweet Monsieur Parolles! + +PAROLLES +Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good +sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall +find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain +Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here +on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword +entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his +reports for me. + +First Lord +We shall, noble captain. + +Exeunt Lords + +PAROLLES +Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do? + +BERTRAM +Stay: the king. + +Re-enter KING. BERTRAM and PAROLLES retire + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the +noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the +list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to +them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the +time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and +move under the influence of the most received star; +and though the devil lead the measure, such are to +be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell. + +BERTRAM +And I will do so. + +PAROLLES +Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and PAROLLES + +Enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings. + +KING +I'll fee thee to stand up. + +LAFEU +Then here's a man stands, that has brought his pardon. +I would you had kneel'd, my lord, to ask me mercy, +And that at my bidding you could so stand up. + +KING +I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, +And ask'd thee mercy for't. + +LAFEU +Good faith, across: but, my good lord 'tis thus; +Will you be cured of your infirmity? + +KING +No. + +LAFEU +O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? +Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if +My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine +That's able to breathe life into a stone, +Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary +With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, +Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, +To give great Charlemain a pen in's hand, +And write to her a love-line. + +KING +What 'her' is this? + +LAFEU +Why, Doctor She: my lord, there's one arrived, +If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, +If seriously I may convey my thoughts +In this my light deliverance, I have spoke +With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, +Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more +Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her +For that is her demand, and know her business? +That done, laugh well at me. + +KING +Now, good Lafeu, +Bring in the admiration; that we with thee +May spend our wonder too, or take off thine +By wondering how thou took'st it. + +LAFEU +Nay, I'll fit you, +And not be all day neither. + +Exit + +KING +Thus he his special nothing ever prologues. + +Re-enter LAFEU, with HELENA + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways. + +KING +This haste hath wings indeed. + +LAFEU +Nay, come your ways: +This is his majesty; say your mind to him: +A traitor you do look like; but such traitors +His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid's uncle, +That dare leave two together; fare you well. + +Exit + +KING +Now, fair one, does your business follow us? + +HELENA +Ay, my good lord. +Gerard de Narbon was my father; +In what he did profess, well found. + +KING +I knew him. + +HELENA +The rather will I spare my praises towards him: +Knowing him is enough. On's bed of death +Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. +Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, +And of his old experience the oily darling, +He bade me store up, as a triple eye, +Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; +And hearing your high majesty is touch'd +With that malignant cause wherein the honour +Of my dear father's gift stands chief in power, +I come to tender it and my appliance +With all bound humbleness. + +KING +We thank you, maiden; +But may not be so credulous of cure, +When our most learned doctors leave us and +The congregated college have concluded +That labouring art can never ransom nature +From her inaidible estate; I say we must not +So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, +To prostitute our past-cure malady +To empirics, or to dissever so +Our great self and our credit, to esteem +A senseless help when help past sense we deem. + +HELENA +My duty then shall pay me for my pains: +I will no more enforce mine office on you. +Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts +A modest one, to bear me back a again. + +KING +I cannot give thee less, to be call'd grateful: +Thou thought'st to help me; and such thanks I give +As one near death to those that wish him live: +But what at full I know, thou know'st no part, +I knowing all my peril, thou no art. + +HELENA +What I can do can do no hurt to try, +Since you set up your rest 'gainst remedy. +He that of greatest works is finisher +Oft does them by the weakest minister: +So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, +When judges have been babes; great floods have flown +From simple sources, and great seas have dried +When miracles have by the greatest been denied. +Oft expectation fails and most oft there +Where most it promises, and oft it hits +Where hope is coldest and despair most fits. + +KING +I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; +Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: +Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward. + +HELENA +Inspired merit so by breath is barr'd: +It is not so with Him that all things knows +As 'tis with us that square our guess by shows; +But most it is presumption in us when +The help of heaven we count the act of men. +Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; +Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. +I am not an impostor that proclaim +Myself against the level of mine aim; +But know I think and think I know most sure +My art is not past power nor you past cure. + +KING +Are thou so confident? within what space +Hopest thou my cure? + +HELENA +The great'st grace lending grace +Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring +Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, +Ere twice in murk and occidental damp +Moist Hesperus hath quench'd his sleepy lamp, +Or four and twenty times the pilot's glass +Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, +What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, +Health shall live free and sickness freely die. + +KING +Upon thy certainty and confidence +What darest thou venture? + +HELENA +Tax of impudence, +A strumpet's boldness, a divulged shame +Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden's name +Sear'd otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended +With vilest torture let my life be ended. + +KING +Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak +His powerful sound within an organ weak: +And what impossibility would slay +In common sense, sense saves another way. +Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate +Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, +Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all +That happiness and prime can happy call: +Thou this to hazard needs must intimate +Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. +Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, +That ministers thine own death if I die. + +HELENA +If I break time, or flinch in property +Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, +And well deserved: not helping, death's my fee; +But, if I help, what do you promise me? + +KING +Make thy demand. + +HELENA +But will you make it even? + +KING +Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven. + +HELENA +Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand +What husband in thy power I will command: +Exempted be from me the arrogance +To choose from forth the royal blood of France, +My low and humble name to propagate +With any branch or image of thy state; +But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know +Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow. + +KING +Here is my hand; the premises observed, +Thy will by my performance shall be served: +So make the choice of thy own time, for I, +Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. +More should I question thee, and more I must, +Though more to know could not be more to trust, +From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest +Unquestion'd welcome and undoubted blest. +Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed +As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +Come on, sir; I shall now put you to the height of +your breeding. + +Clown +I will show myself highly fed and lowly taught: I +know my business is but to the court. + +COUNTESS +To the court! why, what place make you special, +when you put off that with such contempt? But to the court! + +Clown +Truly, madam, if God have lent a man any manners, he +may easily put it off at court: he that cannot make +a leg, put off's cap, kiss his hand and say nothing, +has neither leg, hands, lip, nor cap; and indeed +such a fellow, to say precisely, were not for the +court; but for me, I have an answer will serve all +men. + +COUNTESS +Marry, that's a bountiful answer that fits all +questions. + +Clown +It is like a barber's chair that fits all buttocks, +the pin-buttock, the quatch-buttock, the brawn +buttock, or any buttock. + +COUNTESS +Will your answer serve fit to all questions? + +Clown +As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney, +as your French crown for your taffeta punk, as Tib's +rush for Tom's forefinger, as a pancake for Shrove +Tuesday, a morris for May-day, as the nail to his +hole, the cuckold to his horn, as a scolding queen +to a wrangling knave, as the nun's lip to the +friar's mouth, nay, as the pudding to his skin. + +COUNTESS +Have you, I say, an answer of such fitness for all +questions? + +Clown +From below your duke to beneath your constable, it +will fit any question. + +COUNTESS +It must be an answer of most monstrous size that +must fit all demands. + +Clown +But a trifle neither, in good faith, if the learned +should speak truth of it: here it is, and all that +belongs to't. Ask me if I am a courtier: it shall +do you no harm to learn. + +COUNTESS +To be young again, if we could: I will be a fool in +question, hoping to be the wiser by your answer. I +pray you, sir, are you a courtier? + +Clown +O Lord, sir! There's a simple putting off. More, +more, a hundred of them. + +COUNTESS +Sir, I am a poor friend of yours, that loves you. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Thick, thick, spare not me. + +COUNTESS +I think, sir, you can eat none of this homely meat. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! Nay, put me to't, I warrant you. + +COUNTESS +You were lately whipped, sir, as I think. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! spare not me. + +COUNTESS +Do you cry, 'O Lord, sir!' at your whipping, and +'spare not me?' Indeed your 'O Lord, sir!' is very +sequent to your whipping: you would answer very well +to a whipping, if you were but bound to't. + +Clown +I ne'er had worse luck in my life in my 'O Lord, +sir!' I see things may serve long, but not serve ever. + +COUNTESS +I play the noble housewife with the time +To entertain't so merrily with a fool. + +Clown +O Lord, sir! why, there't serves well again. + +COUNTESS +An end, sir; to your business. Give Helen this, +And urge her to a present answer back: +Commend me to my kinsmen and my son: +This is not much. + +Clown +Not much commendation to them. + +COUNTESS +Not much employment for you: you understand me? + +Clown +Most fruitfully: I am there before my legs. + +COUNTESS +Haste you again. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE III. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter BERTRAM, LAFEU, and PAROLLES +LAFEU +They say miracles are past; and we have our +philosophical persons, to make modern and familiar, +things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it that +we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves +into seeming knowledge, when we should submit +ourselves to an unknown fear. + +PAROLLES +Why, 'tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath +shot out in our latter times. + +BERTRAM +And so 'tis. + +LAFEU +To be relinquish'd of the artists,-- + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Both of Galen and Paracelsus. + +PAROLLES +So I say. + +LAFEU +Of all the learned and authentic fellows,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; so I say. + +LAFEU +That gave him out incurable,-- + +PAROLLES +Why, there 'tis; so say I too. + +LAFEU +Not to be helped,-- + +PAROLLES +Right; as 'twere, a man assured of a-- + +LAFEU +Uncertain life, and sure death. + +PAROLLES +Just, you say well; so would I have said. + +LAFEU +I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world. + +PAROLLES +It is, indeed: if you will have it in showing, you +shall read it in--what do you call there? + +LAFEU +A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor. + +PAROLLES +That's it; I would have said the very same. + +LAFEU +Why, your dolphin is not lustier: 'fore me, +I speak in respect-- + +PAROLLES +Nay, 'tis strange, 'tis very strange, that is the +brief and the tedious of it; and he's of a most +facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge it to be the-- + +LAFEU +Very hand of heaven. + +PAROLLES +Ay, so I say. + +LAFEU +In a most weak-- + +pausing + +and debile minister, great power, great +transcendence: which should, indeed, give us a +further use to be made than alone the recovery of +the king, as to be-- + +pausing + +generally thankful. + +PAROLLES +I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king. + +Enter KING, HELENA, and Attendants. LAFEU and PAROLLES retire + +LAFEU +Lustig, as the Dutchman says: I'll like a maid the +better, whilst I have a tooth in my head: why, he's +able to lead her a coranto. + +PAROLLES +Mort du vinaigre! is not this Helen? + +LAFEU +'Fore God, I think so. + +KING +Go, call before me all the lords in court. +Sit, my preserver, by thy patient's side; +And with this healthful hand, whose banish'd sense +Thou hast repeal'd, a second time receive +The confirmation of my promised gift, +Which but attends thy naming. + +Enter three or four Lords + +Fair maid, send forth thine eye: this youthful parcel +Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing, +O'er whom both sovereign power and father's voice +I have to use: thy frank election make; +Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake. + +HELENA +To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress +Fall, when Love please! marry, to each, but one! + +LAFEU +I'ld give bay Curtal and his furniture, +My mouth no more were broken than these boys', +And writ as little beard. + +KING +Peruse them well: +Not one of those but had a noble father. + +HELENA +Gentlemen, +Heaven hath through me restored the king to health. + +All +We understand it, and thank heaven for you. + +HELENA +I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest, +That I protest I simply am a maid. +Please it your majesty, I have done already: +The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me, +'We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused, +Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever; +We'll ne'er come there again.' + +KING +Make choice; and, see, +Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me. + +HELENA +Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly, +And to imperial Love, that god most high, +Do my sighs stream. Sir, will you hear my suit? + +First Lord +And grant it. + +HELENA +Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute. + +LAFEU +I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace +for my life. + +HELENA +The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes, +Before I speak, too threateningly replies: +Love make your fortunes twenty times above +Her that so wishes and her humble love! + +Second Lord +No better, if you please. + +HELENA +My wish receive, +Which great Love grant! and so, I take my leave. + +LAFEU +Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine, +I'd have them whipped; or I would send them to the +Turk, to make eunuchs of. + +HELENA +Be not afraid that I your hand should take; +I'll never do you wrong for your own sake: +Blessing upon your vows! and in your bed +Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed! + +LAFEU +These boys are boys of ice, they'll none have her: +sure, they are bastards to the English; the French +ne'er got 'em. + +HELENA +You are too young, too happy, and too good, +To make yourself a son out of my blood. + +Fourth Lord +Fair one, I think not so. + +LAFEU +There's one grape yet; I am sure thy father drunk +wine: but if thou be'st not an ass, I am a youth +of fourteen; I have known thee already. + +HELENA +[To BERTRAM] I dare not say I take you; but I give +Me and my service, ever whilst I live, +Into your guiding power. This is the man. + +KING +Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she's thy wife. + +BERTRAM +My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness, +In such a business give me leave to use +The help of mine own eyes. + +KING +Know'st thou not, Bertram, +What she has done for me? + +BERTRAM +Yes, my good lord; +But never hope to know why I should marry her. + +KING +Thou know'st she has raised me from my sickly bed. + +BERTRAM +But follows it, my lord, to bring me down +Must answer for your raising? I know her well: +She had her breeding at my father's charge. +A poor physician's daughter my wife! Disdain +Rather corrupt me ever! + +KING +'Tis only title thou disdain'st in her, the which +I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods, +Of colour, weight, and heat, pour'd all together, +Would quite confound distinction, yet stand off +In differences so mighty. If she be +All that is virtuous, save what thou dislikest, +A poor physician's daughter, thou dislikest +Of virtue for the name: but do not so: +From lowest place when virtuous things proceed, +The place is dignified by the doer's deed: +Where great additions swell's, and virtue none, +It is a dropsied honour. Good alone +Is good without a name. Vileness is so: +The property by what it is should go, +Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair; +In these to nature she's immediate heir, +And these breed honour: that is honour's scorn, +Which challenges itself as honour's born +And is not like the sire: honours thrive, +When rather from our acts we them derive +Than our foregoers: the mere word's a slave +Debosh'd on every tomb, on every grave +A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb +Where dust and damn'd oblivion is the tomb +Of honour'd bones indeed. What should be said? +If thou canst like this creature as a maid, +I can create the rest: virtue and she +Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me. + +BERTRAM +I cannot love her, nor will strive to do't. + +KING +Thou wrong'st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose. + +HELENA +That you are well restored, my lord, I'm glad: +Let the rest go. + +KING +My honour's at the stake; which to defeat, +I must produce my power. Here, take her hand, +Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift; +That dost in vile misprision shackle up +My love and her desert; that canst not dream, +We, poising us in her defective scale, +Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know, +It is in us to plant thine honour where +We please to have it grow. Cheque thy contempt: +Obey our will, which travails in thy good: +Believe not thy disdain, but presently +Do thine own fortunes that obedient right +Which both thy duty owes and our power claims; +Or I will throw thee from my care for ever +Into the staggers and the careless lapse +Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate +Loosing upon thee, in the name of justice, +Without all terms of pity. Speak; thine answer. + +BERTRAM +Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit +My fancy to your eyes: when I consider +What great creation and what dole of honour +Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late +Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now +The praised of the king; who, so ennobled, +Is as 'twere born so. + +KING +Take her by the hand, +And tell her she is thine: to whom I promise +A counterpoise, if not to thy estate +A balance more replete. + +BERTRAM +I take her hand. + +KING +Good fortune and the favour of the king +Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony +Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief, +And be perform'd to-night: the solemn feast +Shall more attend upon the coming space, +Expecting absent friends. As thou lovest her, +Thy love's to me religious; else, does err. + +Exeunt all but LAFEU and PAROLLES + +LAFEU +[Advancing] Do you hear, monsieur? a word with you. + +PAROLLES +Your pleasure, sir? + +LAFEU +Your lord and master did well to make his +recantation. + +PAROLLES +Recantation! My lord! my master! + +LAFEU +Ay; is it not a language I speak? + +PAROLLES +A most harsh one, and not to be understood without +bloody succeeding. My master! + +LAFEU +Are you companion to the Count Rousillon? + +PAROLLES +To any count, to all counts, to what is man. + +LAFEU +To what is count's man: count's master is of +another style. + +PAROLLES +You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old. + +LAFEU +I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which +title age cannot bring thee. + +PAROLLES +What I dare too well do, I dare not do. + +LAFEU +I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty +wise fellow; thou didst make tolerable vent of thy +travel; it might pass: yet the scarfs and the +bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from +believing thee a vessel of too great a burthen. I +have now found thee; when I lose thee again, I care +not: yet art thou good for nothing but taking up; and +that thou't scarce worth. + +PAROLLES +Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee,-- + +LAFEU +Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou +hasten thy trial; which if--Lord have mercy on thee +for a hen! So, my good window of lattice, fare thee +well: thy casement I need not open, for I look +through thee. Give me thy hand. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you give me most egregious indignity. + +LAFEU +Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it. + +PAROLLES +I have not, my lord, deserved it. + +LAFEU +Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not +bate thee a scruple. + +PAROLLES +Well, I shall be wiser. + +LAFEU +Even as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at +a smack o' the contrary. If ever thou be'st bound +in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt find what it is +to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold +my acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, +that I may say in the default, he is a man I know. + +PAROLLES +My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation. + +LAFEU +I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor +doing eternal: for doing I am past: as I will by +thee, in what motion age will give me leave. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off +me; scurvy, old, filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must +be patient; there is no fettering of authority. +I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with +any convenience, an he were double and double a +lord. I'll have no more pity of his age than I +would of--I'll beat him, an if I could but meet him again. + +Re-enter LAFEU + +LAFEU +Sirrah, your lord and master's married; there's news +for you: you have a new mistress. + +PAROLLES +I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make +some reservation of your wrongs: he is my good +lord: whom I serve above is my master. + +LAFEU +Who? God? + +PAROLLES +Ay, sir. + +LAFEU +The devil it is that's thy master. Why dost thou +garter up thy arms o' this fashion? dost make hose of +sleeves? do other servants so? Thou wert best set +thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine +honour, if I were but two hours younger, I'ld beat +thee: methinks, thou art a general offence, and +every man should beat thee: I think thou wast +created for men to breathe themselves upon thee. + +PAROLLES +This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord. + +LAFEU +Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a +kernel out of a pomegranate; you are a vagabond and +no true traveller: you are more saucy with lords +and honourable personages than the commission of your +birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not +worth another word, else I'ld call you knave. I leave you. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +Good, very good; it is so then: good, very good; +let it be concealed awhile. + +Re-enter BERTRAM + +BERTRAM +Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! + +PAROLLES +What's the matter, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +Although before the solemn priest I have sworn, +I will not bed her. + +PAROLLES +What, what, sweet-heart? + +BERTRAM +O my Parolles, they have married me! +I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. + +PAROLLES +France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits +The tread of a man's foot: to the wars! + +BERTRAM +There's letters from my mother: what the import is, +I know not yet. + +PAROLLES +Ay, that would be known. To the wars, my boy, to the wars! +He wears his honour in a box unseen, +That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home, +Spending his manly marrow in her arms, +Which should sustain the bound and high curvet +Of Mars's fiery steed. To other regions +France is a stable; we that dwell in't jades; +Therefore, to the war! + +BERTRAM +It shall be so: I'll send her to my house, +Acquaint my mother with my hate to her, +And wherefore I am fled; write to the king +That which I durst not speak; his present gift +Shall furnish me to those Italian fields, +Where noble fellows strike: war is no strife +To the dark house and the detested wife. + +PAROLLES +Will this capriccio hold in thee? art sure? + +BERTRAM +Go with me to my chamber, and advise me. +I'll send her straight away: to-morrow +I'll to the wars, she to her single sorrow. + +PAROLLES +Why, these balls bound; there's noise in it. 'Tis hard: +A young man married is a man that's marr'd: +Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go: +The king has done you wrong: but, hush, 'tis so. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter HELENA and Clown +HELENA +My mother greets me kindly; is she well? + +Clown +She is not well; but yet she has her health: she's +very merry; but yet she is not well: but thanks be +given, she's very well and wants nothing i', the +world; but yet she is not well. + +HELENA +If she be very well, what does she ail, that she's +not very well? + +Clown +Truly, she's very well indeed, but for two things. + +HELENA +What two things? + +Clown +One, that she's not in heaven, whither God send her +quickly! the other that she's in earth, from whence +God send her quickly! + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Bless you, my fortunate lady! + +HELENA +I hope, sir, I have your good will to have mine own +good fortunes. + +PAROLLES +You had my prayers to lead them on; and to keep them +on, have them still. O, my knave, how does my old lady? + +Clown +So that you had her wrinkles and I her money, +I would she did as you say. + +PAROLLES +Why, I say nothing. + +Clown +Marry, you are the wiser man; for many a man's +tongue shakes out his master's undoing: to say +nothing, to do nothing, to know nothing, and to have +nothing, is to be a great part of your title; which +is within a very little of nothing. + +PAROLLES +Away! thou'rt a knave. + +Clown +You should have said, sir, before a knave thou'rt a +knave; that's, before me thou'rt a knave: this had +been truth, sir. + +PAROLLES +Go to, thou art a witty fool; I have found thee. + +Clown +Did you find me in yourself, sir? or were you +taught to find me? The search, sir, was profitable; +and much fool may you find in you, even to the +world's pleasure and the increase of laughter. + +PAROLLES +A good knave, i' faith, and well fed. +Madam, my lord will go away to-night; +A very serious business calls on him. +The great prerogative and rite of love, +Which, as your due, time claims, he does acknowledge; +But puts it off to a compell'd restraint; +Whose want, and whose delay, is strew'd with sweets, +Which they distil now in the curbed time, +To make the coming hour o'erflow with joy +And pleasure drown the brim. + +HELENA +What's his will else? + +PAROLLES +That you will take your instant leave o' the king +And make this haste as your own good proceeding, +Strengthen'd with what apology you think +May make it probable need. + +HELENA +What more commands he? + +PAROLLES +That, having this obtain'd, you presently +Attend his further pleasure. + +HELENA +In every thing I wait upon his will. + +PAROLLES +I shall report it so. + +HELENA +I pray you. + +Exit PAROLLES + +Come, sirrah. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Paris. The KING's palace. + +Enter LAFEU and BERTRAM +LAFEU +But I hope your lordship thinks not him a soldier. + +BERTRAM +Yes, my lord, and of very valiant approof. + +LAFEU +You have it from his own deliverance. + +BERTRAM +And by other warranted testimony. + +LAFEU +Then my dial goes not true: I took this lark for a bunting. + +BERTRAM +I do assure you, my lord, he is very great in +knowledge and accordingly valiant. + +LAFEU +I have then sinned against his experience and +transgressed against his valour; and my state that +way is dangerous, since I cannot yet find in my +heart to repent. Here he comes: I pray you, make +us friends; I will pursue the amity. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +[To BERTRAM] These things shall be done, sir. + +LAFEU +Pray you, sir, who's his tailor? + +PAROLLES +Sir? + +LAFEU +O, I know him well, I, sir; he, sir, 's a good +workman, a very good tailor. + +BERTRAM +[Aside to PAROLLES] Is she gone to the king? + +PAROLLES +She is. + +BERTRAM +Will she away to-night? + +PAROLLES +As you'll have her. + +BERTRAM +I have writ my letters, casketed my treasure, +Given order for our horses; and to-night, +When I should take possession of the bride, +End ere I do begin. + +LAFEU +A good traveller is something at the latter end of a +dinner; but one that lies three thirds and uses a +known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, should +be once heard and thrice beaten. God save you, captain. + +BERTRAM +Is there any unkindness between my lord and you, monsieur? + +PAROLLES +I know not how I have deserved to run into my lord's +displeasure. + +LAFEU +You have made shift to run into 't, boots and spurs +and all, like him that leaped into the custard; and +out of it you'll run again, rather than suffer +question for your residence. + +BERTRAM +It may be you have mistaken him, my lord. + +LAFEU +And shall do so ever, though I took him at 's +prayers. Fare you well, my lord; and believe this +of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut; the +soul of this man is his clothes. Trust him not in +matter of heavy consequence; I have kept of them +tame, and know their natures. Farewell, monsieur: +I have spoken better of you than you have or will to +deserve at my hand; but we must do good against evil. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +An idle lord. I swear. + +BERTRAM +I think so. + +PAROLLES +Why, do you not know him? + +BERTRAM +Yes, I do know him well, and common speech +Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. + +Enter HELENA + +HELENA +I have, sir, as I was commanded from you, +Spoke with the king and have procured his leave +For present parting; only he desires +Some private speech with you. + +BERTRAM +I shall obey his will. +You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, +Which holds not colour with the time, nor does +The ministration and required office +On my particular. Prepared I was not +For such a business; therefore am I found +So much unsettled: this drives me to entreat you +That presently you take our way for home; +And rather muse than ask why I entreat you, +For my respects are better than they seem +And my appointments have in them a need +Greater than shows itself at the first view +To you that know them not. This to my mother: + +Giving a letter + +'Twill be two days ere I shall see you, so +I leave you to your wisdom. + +HELENA +Sir, I can nothing say, +But that I am your most obedient servant. + +BERTRAM +Come, come, no more of that. + +HELENA +And ever shall +With true observance seek to eke out that +Wherein toward me my homely stars have fail'd +To equal my great fortune. + +BERTRAM +Let that go: +My haste is very great: farewell; hie home. + +HELENA +Pray, sir, your pardon. + +BERTRAM +Well, what would you say? + +HELENA +I am not worthy of the wealth I owe, +Nor dare I say 'tis mine, and yet it is; +But, like a timorous thief, most fain would steal +What law does vouch mine own. + +BERTRAM +What would you have? + +HELENA +Something; and scarce so much: nothing, indeed. +I would not tell you what I would, my lord: +Faith yes; +Strangers and foes do sunder, and not kiss. + +BERTRAM +I pray you, stay not, but in haste to horse. + +HELENA +I shall not break your bidding, good my lord. + +BERTRAM +Where are my other men, monsieur? Farewell. + +Exit HELENA + +Go thou toward home; where I will never come +Whilst I can shake my sword or hear the drum. +Away, and for our flight. + +PAROLLES +Bravely, coragio! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Florence. The DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence attended; the two Frenchmen, with a troop of soldiers. +DUKE +So that from point to point now have you heard +The fundamental reasons of this war, +Whose great decision hath much blood let forth +And more thirsts after. + +First Lord +Holy seems the quarrel +Upon your grace's part; black and fearful +On the opposer. + +DUKE +Therefore we marvel much our cousin France +Would in so just a business shut his bosom +Against our borrowing prayers. + +Second Lord +Good my lord, +The reasons of our state I cannot yield, +But like a common and an outward man, +That the great figure of a council frames +By self-unable motion: therefore dare not +Say what I think of it, since I have found +Myself in my incertain grounds to fail +As often as I guess'd. + +DUKE +Be it his pleasure. + +First Lord +But I am sure the younger of our nature, +That surfeit on their ease, will day by day +Come here for physic. + +DUKE +Welcome shall they be; +And all the honours that can fly from us +Shall on them settle. You know your places well; +When better fall, for your avails they fell: +To-morrow to the field. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Clown +COUNTESS +It hath happened all as I would have had it, save +that he comes not along with her. + +Clown +By my troth, I take my young lord to be a very +melancholy man. + +COUNTESS +By what observance, I pray you? + +Clown +Why, he will look upon his boot and sing; mend the +ruff and sing; ask questions and sing; pick his +teeth and sing. I know a man that had this trick of +melancholy sold a goodly manor for a song. + +COUNTESS +Let me see what he writes, and when he means to come. + +Opening a letter + +Clown +I have no mind to Isbel since I was at court: our +old ling and our Isbels o' the country are nothing +like your old ling and your Isbels o' the court: +the brains of my Cupid's knocked out, and I begin to +love, as an old man loves money, with no stomach. + +COUNTESS +What have we here? + +Clown +E'en that you have there. + +Exit + +COUNTESS +[Reads] I have sent you a daughter-in-law: she hath +recovered the king, and undone me. I have wedded +her, not bedded her; and sworn to make the 'not' +eternal. You shall hear I am run away: know it +before the report come. If there be breadth enough +in the world, I will hold a long distance. My duty +to you. Your unfortunate son, +BERTRAM. +This is not well, rash and unbridled boy. +To fly the favours of so good a king; +To pluck his indignation on thy head +By the misprising of a maid too virtuous +For the contempt of empire. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder is heavy news within between two +soldiers and my young lady! + +COUNTESS +What is the matter? + +Clown +Nay, there is some comfort in the news, some +comfort; your son will not be killed so soon as I +thought he would. + +COUNTESS +Why should he be killed? + +Clown +So say I, madam, if he run away, as I hear he does: +the danger is in standing to't; that's the loss of +men, though it be the getting of children. Here +they come will tell you more: for my part, I only +hear your son was run away. + +Exit + +Enter HELENA, and two Gentlemen + +First Gentleman +Save you, good madam. + +HELENA +Madam, my lord is gone, for ever gone. + +Second Gentleman +Do not say so. + +COUNTESS +Think upon patience. Pray you, gentlemen, +I have felt so many quirks of joy and grief, +That the first face of neither, on the start, +Can woman me unto't: where is my son, I pray you? + +Second Gentleman +Madam, he's gone to serve the duke of Florence: +We met him thitherward; for thence we came, +And, after some dispatch in hand at court, +Thither we bend again. + +HELENA +Look on his letter, madam; here's my passport. + +Reads + +When thou canst get the ring upon my finger which +never shall come off, and show me a child begotten +of thy body that I am father to, then call me +husband: but in such a 'then' I write a 'never.' +This is a dreadful sentence. + +COUNTESS +Brought you this letter, gentlemen? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam; +And for the contents' sake are sorry for our pain. + +COUNTESS +I prithee, lady, have a better cheer; +If thou engrossest all the griefs are thine, +Thou robb'st me of a moiety: he was my son; +But I do wash his name out of my blood, +And thou art all my child. Towards Florence is he? + +Second Gentleman +Ay, madam. + +COUNTESS +And to be a soldier? + +Second Gentleman +Such is his noble purpose; and believe 't, +The duke will lay upon him all the honour +That good convenience claims. + +COUNTESS +Return you thither? + +First Gentleman +Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed. + +HELENA +[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France. +'Tis bitter. + +COUNTESS +Find you that there? + +HELENA +Ay, madam. + +First Gentleman +'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his +heart was not consenting to. + +COUNTESS +Nothing in France, until he have no wife! +There's nothing here that is too good for him +But only she; and she deserves a lord +That twenty such rude boys might tend upon +And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him? + +First Gentleman +A servant only, and a gentleman +Which I have sometime known. + +COUNTESS +Parolles, was it not? + +First Gentleman +Ay, my good lady, he. + +COUNTESS +A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness. +My son corrupts a well-derived nature +With his inducement. + +First Gentleman +Indeed, good lady, +The fellow has a deal of that too much, +Which holds him much to have. + +COUNTESS +You're welcome, gentlemen. +I will entreat you, when you see my son, +To tell him that his sword can never win +The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you +Written to bear along. + +Second Gentleman +We serve you, madam, +In that and all your worthiest affairs. + +COUNTESS +Not so, but as we change our courtesies. +Will you draw near! + +Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen + +HELENA +'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.' +Nothing in France, until he has no wife! +Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France; +Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I +That chase thee from thy country and expose +Those tender limbs of thine to the event +Of the none-sparing war? and is it I +That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou +Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark +Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers, +That ride upon the violent speed of fire, +Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air, +That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord. +Whoever shoots at him, I set him there; +Whoever charges on his forward breast, +I am the caitiff that do hold him to't; +And, though I kill him not, I am the cause +His death was so effected: better 'twere +I met the ravin lion when he roar'd +With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere +That all the miseries which nature owes +Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon, +Whence honour but of danger wins a scar, +As oft it loses all: I will be gone; +My being here it is that holds thee hence: +Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although +The air of paradise did fan the house +And angels officed all: I will be gone, +That pitiful rumour may report my flight, +To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day! +For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away. + +Exit + +SCENE III. Florence. Before the DUKE's palace. + +Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets +DUKE +The general of our horse thou art; and we, +Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence +Upon thy promising fortune. + +BERTRAM +Sir, it is +A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet +We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake +To the extreme edge of hazard. + +DUKE +Then go thou forth; +And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm, +As thy auspicious mistress! + +BERTRAM +This very day, +Great Mars, I put myself into thy file: +Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove +A lover of thy drum, hater of love. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS and Steward +COUNTESS +Alas! and would you take the letter of her? +Might you not know she would do as she has done, +By sending me a letter? Read it again. + +Steward +[Reads] +I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: +Ambitious love hath so in me offended, +That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, +With sainted vow my faults to have amended. +Write, write, that from the bloody course of war +My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: +Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far +His name with zealous fervor sanctify: +His taken labours bid him me forgive; +I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth +From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, +Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: +He is too good and fair for death and me: +Whom I myself embrace, to set him free. + +COUNTESS +Ah, what sharp stings are in her mildest words! +Rinaldo, you did never lack advice so much, +As letting her pass so: had I spoke with her, +I could have well diverted her intents, +Which thus she hath prevented. + +Steward +Pardon me, madam: +If I had given you this at over-night, +She might have been o'erta'en; and yet she writes, +Pursuit would be but vain. + +COUNTESS +What angel shall +Bless this unworthy husband? he cannot thrive, +Unless her prayers, whom heaven delights to hear +And loves to grant, reprieve him from the wrath +Of greatest justice. Write, write, Rinaldo, +To this unworthy husband of his wife; +Let every word weigh heavy of her worth +That he does weigh too light: my greatest grief. +Though little he do feel it, set down sharply. +Dispatch the most convenient messenger: +When haply he shall hear that she is gone, +He will return; and hope I may that she, +Hearing so much, will speed her foot again, +Led hither by pure love: which of them both +Is dearest to me. I have no skill in sense +To make distinction: provide this messenger: +My heart is heavy and mine age is weak; +Grief would have tears, and sorrow bids me speak. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Florence. Without the walls. A tucket afar off. + +Enter an old Widow of Florence, DIANA, VIOLENTA, and MARIANA, with other Citizens +Widow +Nay, come; for if they do approach the city, we +shall lose all the sight. + +DIANA +They say the French count has done most honourable service. + +Widow +It is reported that he has taken their greatest +commander; and that with his own hand he slew the +duke's brother. + +Tucket + +We have lost our labour; they are gone a contrary +way: hark! you may know by their trumpets. + +MARIANA +Come, let's return again, and suffice ourselves with +the report of it. Well, Diana, take heed of this +French earl: the honour of a maid is her name; and +no legacy is so rich as honesty. + +Widow +I have told my neighbour how you have been solicited +by a gentleman his companion. + +MARIANA +I know that knave; hang him! one Parolles: a +filthy officer he is in those suggestions for the +young earl. Beware of them, Diana; their promises, +enticements, oaths, tokens, and all these engines of +lust, are not the things they go under: many a maid +hath been seduced by them; and the misery is, +example, that so terrible shows in the wreck of +maidenhood, cannot for all that dissuade succession, +but that they are limed with the twigs that threaten +them. I hope I need not to advise you further; but +I hope your own grace will keep you where you are, +though there were no further danger known but the +modesty which is so lost. + +DIANA +You shall not need to fear me. + +Widow +I hope so. + +Enter HELENA, disguised like a Pilgrim + +Look, here comes a pilgrim: I know she will lie at +my house; thither they send one another: I'll +question her. God save you, pilgrim! whither are you bound? + +HELENA +To Saint Jaques le Grand. +Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you? + +Widow +At the Saint Francis here beside the port. + +HELENA +Is this the way? + +Widow +Ay, marry, is't. + +A march afar + +Hark you! they come this way. +If you will tarry, holy pilgrim, +But till the troops come by, +I will conduct you where you shall be lodged; +The rather, for I think I know your hostess +As ample as myself. + +HELENA +Is it yourself? + +Widow +If you shall please so, pilgrim. + +HELENA +I thank you, and will stay upon your leisure. + +Widow +You came, I think, from France? + +HELENA +I did so. + +Widow +Here you shall see a countryman of yours +That has done worthy service. + +HELENA +His name, I pray you. + +DIANA +The Count Rousillon: know you such a one? + +HELENA +But by the ear, that hears most nobly of him: +His face I know not. + +DIANA +Whatsome'er he is, +He's bravely taken here. He stole from France, +As 'tis reported, for the king had married him +Against his liking: think you it is so? + +HELENA +Ay, surely, mere the truth: I know his lady. + +DIANA +There is a gentleman that serves the count +Reports but coarsely of her. + +HELENA +What's his name? + +DIANA +Monsieur Parolles. + +HELENA +O, I believe with him, +In argument of praise, or to the worth +Of the great count himself, she is too mean +To have her name repeated: all her deserving +Is a reserved honesty, and that +I have not heard examined. + +DIANA +Alas, poor lady! +'Tis a hard bondage to become the wife +Of a detesting lord. + +Widow +I warrant, good creature, wheresoe'er she is, +Her heart weighs sadly: this young maid might do her +A shrewd turn, if she pleased. + +HELENA +How do you mean? +May be the amorous count solicits her +In the unlawful purpose. + +Widow +He does indeed; +And brokes with all that can in such a suit +Corrupt the tender honour of a maid: +But she is arm'd for him and keeps her guard +In honestest defence. + +MARIANA +The gods forbid else! + +Widow +So, now they come: + +Drum and Colours + +Enter BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and the whole army + +That is Antonio, the duke's eldest son; +That, Escalus. + +HELENA +Which is the Frenchman? + +DIANA +He; +That with the plume: 'tis a most gallant fellow. +I would he loved his wife: if he were honester +He were much goodlier: is't not a handsome gentleman? + +HELENA +I like him well. + +DIANA +'Tis pity he is not honest: yond's that same knave +That leads him to these places: were I his lady, +I would Poison that vile rascal. + +HELENA +Which is he? + +DIANA +That jack-an-apes with scarfs: why is he melancholy? + +HELENA +Perchance he's hurt i' the battle. + +PAROLLES +Lose our drum! well. + +MARIANA +He's shrewdly vexed at something: look, he has spied us. + +Widow +Marry, hang you! + +MARIANA +And your courtesy, for a ring-carrier! + +Exeunt BERTRAM, PAROLLES, and army + +Widow +The troop is past. Come, pilgrim, I will bring you +Where you shall host: of enjoin'd penitents +There's four or five, to great Saint Jaques bound, +Already at my house. + +HELENA +I humbly thank you: +Please it this matron and this gentle maid +To eat with us to-night, the charge and thanking +Shall be for me; and, to requite you further, +I will bestow some precepts of this virgin +Worthy the note. + +BOTH +We'll take your offer kindly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Camp before Florence. + +Enter BERTRAM and the two French Lords +Second Lord +Nay, good my lord, put him to't; let him have his +way. + +First Lord +If your lordship find him not a hilding, hold me no +more in your respect. + +Second Lord +On my life, my lord, a bubble. + +BERTRAM +Do you think I am so far deceived in him? + +Second Lord +Believe it, my lord, in mine own direct knowledge, +without any malice, but to speak of him as my +kinsman, he's a most notable coward, an infinite and +endless liar, an hourly promise-breaker, the owner +of no one good quality worthy your lordship's +entertainment. + +First Lord +It were fit you knew him; lest, reposing too far in +his virtue, which he hath not, he might at some +great and trusty business in a main danger fail you. + +BERTRAM +I would I knew in what particular action to try him. + +First Lord +None better than to let him fetch off his drum, +which you hear him so confidently undertake to do. + +Second Lord +I, with a troop of Florentines, will suddenly +surprise him; such I will have, whom I am sure he +knows not from the enemy: we will bind and hoodwink +him so, that he shall suppose no other but that he +is carried into the leaguer of the adversaries, when +we bring him to our own tents. Be but your lordship +present at his examination: if he do not, for the +promise of his life and in the highest compulsion of +base fear, offer to betray you and deliver all the +intelligence in his power against you, and that with +the divine forfeit of his soul upon oath, never +trust my judgment in any thing. + +First Lord +O, for the love of laughter, let him fetch his drum; +he says he has a stratagem for't: when your +lordship sees the bottom of his success in't, and to +what metal this counterfeit lump of ore will be +melted, if you give him not John Drum's +entertainment, your inclining cannot be removed. +Here he comes. + +Enter PAROLLES + +Second Lord +[Aside to BERTRAM] O, for the love of laughter, +hinder not the honour of his design: let him fetch +off his drum in any hand. + +BERTRAM +How now, monsieur! this drum sticks sorely in your +disposition. + +First Lord +A pox on't, let it go; 'tis but a drum. + +PAROLLES +'But a drum'! is't 'but a drum'? A drum so lost! +There was excellent command,--to charge in with our +horse upon our own wings, and to rend our own soldiers! + +First Lord +That was not to be blamed in the command of the +service: it was a disaster of war that Caesar +himself could not have prevented, if he had been +there to command. + +BERTRAM +Well, we cannot greatly condemn our success: some +dishonour we had in the loss of that drum; but it is +not to be recovered. + +PAROLLES +It might have been recovered. + +BERTRAM +It might; but it is not now. + +PAROLLES +It is to be recovered: but that the merit of +service is seldom attributed to the true and exact +performer, I would have that drum or another, or +'hic jacet.' + +BERTRAM +Why, if you have a stomach, to't, monsieur: if you +think your mystery in stratagem can bring this +instrument of honour again into his native quarter, +be magnanimous in the enterprise and go on; I will +grace the attempt for a worthy exploit: if you +speed well in it, the duke shall both speak of it. +and extend to you what further becomes his +greatness, even to the utmost syllable of your +worthiness. + +PAROLLES +By the hand of a soldier, I will undertake it. + +BERTRAM +But you must not now slumber in it. + +PAROLLES +I'll about it this evening: and I will presently +pen down my dilemmas, encourage myself in my +certainty, put myself into my mortal preparation; +and by midnight look to hear further from me. + +BERTRAM +May I be bold to acquaint his grace you are gone about it? + +PAROLLES +I know not what the success will be, my lord; but +the attempt I vow. + +BERTRAM +I know thou'rt valiant; and, to the possibility of +thy soldiership, will subscribe for thee. Farewell. + +PAROLLES +I love not many words. + +Exit + +Second Lord +No more than a fish loves water. Is not this a +strange fellow, my lord, that so confidently seems +to undertake this business, which he knows is not to +be done; damns himself to do and dares better be +damned than to do't? + +First Lord +You do not know him, my lord, as we do: certain it +is that he will steal himself into a man's favour and +for a week escape a great deal of discoveries; but +when you find him out, you have him ever after. + +BERTRAM +Why, do you think he will make no deed at all of +this that so seriously he does address himself unto? + +Second Lord +None in the world; but return with an invention and +clap upon you two or three probable lies: but we +have almost embossed him; you shall see his fall +to-night; for indeed he is not for your lordship's respect. + +First Lord +We'll make you some sport with the fox ere we case +him. He was first smoked by the old lord Lafeu: +when his disguise and he is parted, tell me what a +sprat you shall find him; which you shall see this +very night. + +Second Lord +I must go look my twigs: he shall be caught. + +BERTRAM +Your brother he shall go along with me. + +Second Lord +As't please your lordship: I'll leave you. + +Exit + +BERTRAM +Now will I lead you to the house, and show you +The lass I spoke of. + +First Lord +But you say she's honest. + +BERTRAM +That's all the fault: I spoke with her but once +And found her wondrous cold; but I sent to her, +By this same coxcomb that we have i' the wind, +Tokens and letters which she did re-send; +And this is all I have done. She's a fair creature: +Will you go see her? + +First Lord +With all my heart, my lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA and Widow +HELENA +If you misdoubt me that I am not she, +I know not how I shall assure you further, +But I shall lose the grounds I work upon. + +Widow +Though my estate be fallen, I was well born, +Nothing acquainted with these businesses; +And would not put my reputation now +In any staining act. + +HELENA +Nor would I wish you. +First, give me trust, the count he is my husband, +And what to your sworn counsel I have spoken +Is so from word to word; and then you cannot, +By the good aid that I of you shall borrow, +Err in bestowing it. + +Widow +I should believe you: +For you have show'd me that which well approves +You're great in fortune. + +HELENA +Take this purse of gold, +And let me buy your friendly help thus far, +Which I will over-pay and pay again +When I have found it. The count he wooes your daughter, +Lays down his wanton siege before her beauty, +Resolved to carry her: let her in fine consent, +As we'll direct her how 'tis best to bear it. +Now his important blood will nought deny +That she'll demand: a ring the county wears, +That downward hath succeeded in his house +From son to son, some four or five descents +Since the first father wore it: this ring he holds +In most rich choice; yet in his idle fire, +To buy his will, it would not seem too dear, +Howe'er repented after. + +Widow +Now I see +The bottom of your purpose. + +HELENA +You see it lawful, then: it is no more, +But that your daughter, ere she seems as won, +Desires this ring; appoints him an encounter; +In fine, delivers me to fill the time, +Herself most chastely absent: after this, +To marry her, I'll add three thousand crowns +To what is passed already. + +Widow +I have yielded: +Instruct my daughter how she shall persever, +That time and place with this deceit so lawful +May prove coherent. Every night he comes +With musics of all sorts and songs composed +To her unworthiness: it nothing steads us +To chide him from our eaves; for he persists +As if his life lay on't. + +HELENA +Why then to-night +Let us assay our plot; which, if it speed, +Is wicked meaning in a lawful deed +And lawful meaning in a lawful act, +Where both not sin, and yet a sinful fact: +But let's about it. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Without the Florentine camp. + +Enter Second French Lord, with five or six other Soldiers in ambush +Second Lord +He can come no other way but by this hedge-corner. +When you sally upon him, speak what terrible +language you will: though you understand it not +yourselves, no matter; for we must not seem to +understand him, unless some one among us whom we +must produce for an interpreter. + +First Soldier +Good captain, let me be the interpreter. + +Second Lord +Art not acquainted with him? knows he not thy voice? + +First Soldier +No, sir, I warrant you. + +Second Lord +But what linsey-woolsey hast thou to speak to us again? + +First Soldier +E'en such as you speak to me. + +Second Lord +He must think us some band of strangers i' the +adversary's entertainment. Now he hath a smack of +all neighbouring languages; therefore we must every +one be a man of his own fancy, not to know what we +speak one to another; so we seem to know, is to +know straight our purpose: choughs' language, +gabble enough, and good enough. As for you, +interpreter, you must seem very politic. But couch, +ho! here he comes, to beguile two hours in a sleep, +and then to return and swear the lies he forges. + +Enter PAROLLES + +PAROLLES +Ten o'clock: within these three hours 'twill be +time enough to go home. What shall I say I have +done? It must be a very plausive invention that +carries it: they begin to smoke me; and disgraces +have of late knocked too often at my door. I find +my tongue is too foolhardy; but my heart hath the +fear of Mars before it and of his creatures, not +daring the reports of my tongue. + +Second Lord +This is the first truth that e'er thine own tongue +was guilty of. + +PAROLLES +What the devil should move me to undertake the +recovery of this drum, being not ignorant of the +impossibility, and knowing I had no such purpose? I +must give myself some hurts, and say I got them in +exploit: yet slight ones will not carry it; they +will say, 'Came you off with so little?' and great +ones I dare not give. Wherefore, what's the +instance? Tongue, I must put you into a +butter-woman's mouth and buy myself another of +Bajazet's mule, if you prattle me into these perils. + +Second Lord +Is it possible he should know what he is, and be +that he is? + +PAROLLES +I would the cutting of my garments would serve the +turn, or the breaking of my Spanish sword. + +Second Lord +We cannot afford you so. + +PAROLLES +Or the baring of my beard; and to say it was in +stratagem. + +Second Lord +'Twould not do. + +PAROLLES +Or to drown my clothes, and say I was stripped. + +Second Lord +Hardly serve. + +PAROLLES +Though I swore I leaped from the window of the citadel. + +Second Lord +How deep? + +PAROLLES +Thirty fathom. + +Second Lord +Three great oaths would scarce make that be believed. + +PAROLLES +I would I had any drum of the enemy's: I would swear +I recovered it. + +Second Lord +You shall hear one anon. + +PAROLLES +A drum now of the enemy's,-- + +Alarum within + +Second Lord +Throca movousus, cargo, cargo, cargo. + +All +Cargo, cargo, cargo, villiando par corbo, cargo. + +PAROLLES +O, ransom, ransom! do not hide mine eyes. + +They seize and blindfold him + +First Soldier +Boskos thromuldo boskos. + +PAROLLES +I know you are the Muskos' regiment: +And I shall lose my life for want of language; +If there be here German, or Dane, low Dutch, +Italian, or French, let him speak to me; I'll +Discover that which shall undo the Florentine. + +First Soldier +Boskos vauvado: I understand thee, and can speak +thy tongue. Kerely bonto, sir, betake thee to thy +faith, for seventeen poniards are at thy bosom. + +PAROLLES +O! + +First Soldier +O, pray, pray, pray! Manka revania dulche. + +Second Lord +Oscorbidulchos volivorco. + +First Soldier +The general is content to spare thee yet; +And, hoodwink'd as thou art, will lead thee on +To gather from thee: haply thou mayst inform +Something to save thy life. + +PAROLLES +O, let me live! +And all the secrets of our camp I'll show, +Their force, their purposes; nay, I'll speak that +Which you will wonder at. + +First Soldier +But wilt thou faithfully? + +PAROLLES +If I do not, damn me. + +First Soldier +Acordo linta. +Come on; thou art granted space. + +Exit, with PAROLLES guarded. A short alarum within + +Second Lord +Go, tell the Count Rousillon, and my brother, +We have caught the woodcock, and will keep him muffled +Till we do hear from them. + +Second Soldier +Captain, I will. + +Second Lord +A' will betray us all unto ourselves: +Inform on that. + +Second Soldier +So I will, sir. + +Second Lord +Till then I'll keep him dark and safely lock'd. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter BERTRAM and DIANA +BERTRAM +They told me that your name was Fontibell. + +DIANA +No, my good lord, Diana. + +BERTRAM +Titled goddess; +And worth it, with addition! But, fair soul, +In your fine frame hath love no quality? +If quick fire of youth light not your mind, +You are no maiden, but a monument: +When you are dead, you should be such a one +As you are now, for you are cold and stem; +And now you should be as your mother was +When your sweet self was got. + +DIANA +She then was honest. + +BERTRAM +So should you be. + +DIANA +No: +My mother did but duty; such, my lord, +As you owe to your wife. + +BERTRAM +No more o' that; +I prithee, do not strive against my vows: +I was compell'd to her; but I love thee +By love's own sweet constraint, and will for ever +Do thee all rights of service. + +DIANA +Ay, so you serve us +Till we serve you; but when you have our roses, +You barely leave our thorns to prick ourselves +And mock us with our bareness. + +BERTRAM +How have I sworn! + +DIANA +'Tis not the many oaths that makes the truth, +But the plain single vow that is vow'd true. +What is not holy, that we swear not by, +But take the High'st to witness: then, pray you, tell me, +If I should swear by God's great attributes, +I loved you dearly, would you believe my oaths, +When I did love you ill? This has no holding, +To swear by him whom I protest to love, +That I will work against him: therefore your oaths +Are words and poor conditions, but unseal'd, +At least in my opinion. + +BERTRAM +Change it, change it; +Be not so holy-cruel: love is holy; +And my integrity ne'er knew the crafts +That you do charge men with. Stand no more off, +But give thyself unto my sick desires, +Who then recover: say thou art mine, and ever +My love as it begins shall so persever. + +DIANA +I see that men make ropes in such a scarre +That we'll forsake ourselves. Give me that ring. + +BERTRAM +I'll lend it thee, my dear; but have no power +To give it from me. + +DIANA +Will you not, my lord? + +BERTRAM +It is an honour 'longing to our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose. + +DIANA +Mine honour's such a ring: +My chastity's the jewel of our house, +Bequeathed down from many ancestors; +Which were the greatest obloquy i' the world +In me to lose: thus your own proper wisdom +Brings in the champion Honour on my part, +Against your vain assault. + +BERTRAM +Here, take my ring: +My house, mine honour, yea, my life, be thine, +And I'll be bid by thee. + +DIANA +When midnight comes, knock at my chamber-window: +I'll order take my mother shall not hear. +Now will I charge you in the band of truth, +When you have conquer'd my yet maiden bed, +Remain there but an hour, nor speak to me: +My reasons are most strong; and you shall know them +When back again this ring shall be deliver'd: +And on your finger in the night I'll put +Another ring, that what in time proceeds +May token to the future our past deeds. +Adieu, till then; then, fail not. You have won +A wife of me, though there my hope be done. + +BERTRAM +A heaven on earth I have won by wooing thee. + +Exit + +DIANA +For which live long to thank both heaven and me! +You may so in the end. +My mother told me just how he would woo, +As if she sat in 's heart; she says all men +Have the like oaths: he had sworn to marry me +When his wife's dead; therefore I'll lie with him +When I am buried. Since Frenchmen are so braid, +Marry that will, I live and die a maid: +Only in this disguise I think't no sin +To cozen him that would unjustly win. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Florentine camp. + +Enter the two French Lords and some two or three Soldiers +First Lord +You have not given him his mother's letter? + +Second Lord +I have delivered it an hour since: there is +something in't that stings his nature; for on the +reading it he changed almost into another man. + +First Lord +He has much worthy blame laid upon him for shaking +off so good a wife and so sweet a lady. + +Second Lord +Especially he hath incurred the everlasting +displeasure of the king, who had even tuned his +bounty to sing happiness to him. I will tell you a +thing, but you shall let it dwell darkly with you. + +First Lord +When you have spoken it, 'tis dead, and I am the +grave of it. + +Second Lord +He hath perverted a young gentlewoman here in +Florence, of a most chaste renown; and this night he +fleshes his will in the spoil of her honour: he hath +given her his monumental ring, and thinks himself +made in the unchaste composition. + +First Lord +Now, God delay our rebellion! as we are ourselves, +what things are we! + +Second Lord +Merely our own traitors. And as in the common course +of all treasons, we still see them reveal +themselves, till they attain to their abhorred ends, +so he that in this action contrives against his own +nobility, in his proper stream o'erflows himself. + +First Lord +Is it not meant damnable in us, to be trumpeters of +our unlawful intents? We shall not then have his +company to-night? + +Second Lord +Not till after midnight; for he is dieted to his hour. + +First Lord +That approaches apace; I would gladly have him see +his company anatomized, that he might take a measure +of his own judgments, wherein so curiously he had +set this counterfeit. + +Second Lord +We will not meddle with him till he come; for his +presence must be the whip of the other. + +First Lord +In the mean time, what hear you of these wars? + +Second Lord +I hear there is an overture of peace. + +First Lord +Nay, I assure you, a peace concluded. + +Second Lord +What will Count Rousillon do then? will he travel +higher, or return again into France? + +First Lord +I perceive, by this demand, you are not altogether +of his council. + +Second Lord +Let it be forbid, sir; so should I be a great deal +of his act. + +First Lord +Sir, his wife some two months since fled from his +house: her pretence is a pilgrimage to Saint Jaques +le Grand; which holy undertaking with most austere +sanctimony she accomplished; and, there residing the +tenderness of her nature became as a prey to her +grief; in fine, made a groan of her last breath, and +now she sings in heaven. + +Second Lord +How is this justified? + +First Lord +The stronger part of it by her own letters, which +makes her story true, even to the point of her +death: her death itself, which could not be her +office to say is come, was faithfully confirmed by +the rector of the place. + +Second Lord +Hath the count all this intelligence? + +First Lord +Ay, and the particular confirmations, point from +point, so to the full arming of the verity. + +Second Lord +I am heartily sorry that he'll be glad of this. + +First Lord +How mightily sometimes we make us comforts of our losses! + +Second Lord +And how mightily some other times we drown our gain +in tears! The great dignity that his valour hath +here acquired for him shall at home be encountered +with a shame as ample. + +First Lord +The web of our life is of a mingled yarn, good and +ill together: our virtues would be proud, if our +faults whipped them not; and our crimes would +despair, if they were not cherished by our virtues. + +Enter a Messenger + +How now! where's your master? + +Servant +He met the duke in the street, sir, of whom he hath +taken a solemn leave: his lordship will next +morning for France. The duke hath offered him +letters of commendations to the king. + +Second Lord +They shall be no more than needful there, if they +were more than they can commend. + +First Lord +They cannot be too sweet for the king's tartness. +Here's his lordship now. + +Enter BERTRAM + +How now, my lord! is't not after midnight? + +BERTRAM +I have to-night dispatched sixteen businesses, a +month's length a-piece, by an abstract of success: +I have congied with the duke, done my adieu with his +nearest; buried a wife, mourned for her; writ to my +lady mother I am returning; entertained my convoy; +and between these main parcels of dispatch effected +many nicer needs; the last was the greatest, but +that I have not ended yet. + +Second Lord +If the business be of any difficulty, and this +morning your departure hence, it requires haste of +your lordship. + +BERTRAM +I mean, the business is not ended, as fearing to +hear of it hereafter. But shall we have this +dialogue between the fool and the soldier? Come, +bring forth this counterfeit module, he has deceived +me, like a double-meaning prophesier. + +Second Lord +Bring him forth: has sat i' the stocks all night, +poor gallant knave. + +BERTRAM +No matter: his heels have deserved it, in usurping +his spurs so long. How does he carry himself? + +Second Lord +I have told your lordship already, the stocks carry +him. But to answer you as you would be understood; +he weeps like a wench that had shed her milk: he +hath confessed himself to Morgan, whom he supposes +to be a friar, from the time of his remembrance to +this very instant disaster of his setting i' the +stocks: and what think you he hath confessed? + +BERTRAM +Nothing of me, has a'? + +Second Lord +His confession is taken, and it shall be read to his +face: if your lordship be in't, as I believe you +are, you must have the patience to hear it. + +Enter PAROLLES guarded, and First Soldier + +BERTRAM +A plague upon him! muffled! he can say nothing of +me: hush, hush! + +First Lord +Hoodman comes! Portotartarosa + +First Soldier +He calls for the tortures: what will you say +without 'em? + +PAROLLES +I will confess what I know without constraint: if +ye pinch me like a pasty, I can say no more. + +First Soldier +Bosko chimurcho. + +First Lord +Boblibindo chicurmurco. + +First Soldier +You are a merciful general. Our general bids you +answer to what I shall ask you out of a note. + +PAROLLES +And truly, as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'First demand of him how many horse the +duke is strong.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand; but very weak and +unserviceable: the troops are all scattered, and +the commanders very poor rogues, upon my reputation +and credit and as I hope to live. + +First Soldier +Shall I set down your answer so? + +PAROLLES +Do: I'll take the sacrament on't, how and which way you will. + +BERTRAM +All's one to him. What a past-saving slave is this! + +First Lord +You're deceived, my lord: this is Monsieur +Parolles, the gallant militarist,--that was his own +phrase,--that had the whole theoric of war in the +knot of his scarf, and the practise in the chape of +his dagger. + +Second Lord +I will never trust a man again for keeping his sword +clean. nor believe he can have every thing in him +by wearing his apparel neatly. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +Five or six thousand horse, I said,-- I will say +true,--or thereabouts, set down, for I'll speak truth. + +First Lord +He's very near the truth in this. + +BERTRAM +But I con him no thanks for't, in the nature he +delivers it. + +PAROLLES +Poor rogues, I pray you, say. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +PAROLLES +I humbly thank you, sir: a truth's a truth, the +rogues are marvellous poor. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Demand of him, of what strength they are +a-foot.' What say you to that? + +PAROLLES +By my troth, sir, if I were to live this present +hour, I will tell true. Let me see: Spurio, a +hundred and fifty; Sebastian, so many; Corambus, so +many; Jaques, so many; Guiltian, Cosmo, Lodowick, +and Gratii, two hundred and fifty each; mine own +company, Chitopher, Vaumond, Bentii, two hundred and +fifty each: so that the muster-file, rotten and +sound, upon my life, amounts not to fifteen thousand +poll; half of the which dare not shake snow from off +their cassocks, lest they shake themselves to pieces. + +BERTRAM +What shall be done to him? + +First Lord +Nothing, but let him have thanks. Demand of him my +condition, and what credit I have with the duke. + +First Soldier +Well, that's set down. + +Reads + +'You shall demand of him, whether one Captain Dumain +be i' the camp, a Frenchman; what his reputation is +with the duke; what his valour, honesty, and +expertness in wars; or whether he thinks it were not +possible, with well-weighing sums of gold, to +corrupt him to revolt.' What say you to this? what +do you know of it? + +PAROLLES +I beseech you, let me answer to the particular of +the inter'gatories: demand them singly. + +First Soldier +Do you know this Captain Dumain? + +PAROLLES +I know him: a' was a botcher's 'prentice in Paris, +from whence he was whipped for getting the shrieve's +fool with child,--a dumb innocent, that could not +say him nay. + +BERTRAM +Nay, by your leave, hold your hands; though I know +his brains are forfeit to the next tile that falls. + +First Soldier +Well, is this captain in the duke of Florence's camp? + +PAROLLES +Upon my knowledge, he is, and lousy. + +First Lord +Nay look not so upon me; we shall hear of your +lordship anon. + +First Soldier +What is his reputation with the duke? + +PAROLLES +The duke knows him for no other but a poor officer +of mine; and writ to me this other day to turn him +out o' the band: I think I have his letter in my pocket. + +First Soldier +Marry, we'll search. + +PAROLLES +In good sadness, I do not know; either it is there, +or it is upon a file with the duke's other letters +in my tent. + +First Soldier +Here 'tis; here's a paper: shall I read it to you? + +PAROLLES +I do not know if it be it or no. + +BERTRAM +Our interpreter does it well. + +First Lord +Excellently. + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'Dian, the count's a fool, and full of gold,'-- + +PAROLLES +That is not the duke's letter, sir; that is an +advertisement to a proper maid in Florence, one +Diana, to take heed of the allurement of one Count +Rousillon, a foolish idle boy, but for all that very +ruttish: I pray you, sir, put it up again. + +First Soldier +Nay, I'll read it first, by your favour. + +PAROLLES +My meaning in't, I protest, was very honest in the +behalf of the maid; for I knew the young count to be +a dangerous and lascivious boy, who is a whale to +virginity and devours up all the fry it finds. + +BERTRAM +Damnable both-sides rogue! + +First Soldier +[Reads] 'When he swears oaths, bid him drop gold, and take it; +After he scores, he never pays the score: +Half won is match well made; match, and well make it; +He ne'er pays after-debts, take it before; +And say a soldier, Dian, told thee this, +Men are to mell with, boys are not to kiss: +For count of this, the count's a fool, I know it, +Who pays before, but not when he does owe it. +Thine, as he vowed to thee in thine ear, +PAROLLES.' + +BERTRAM +He shall be whipped through the army with this rhyme +in's forehead. + +Second Lord +This is your devoted friend, sir, the manifold +linguist and the armipotent soldier. + +BERTRAM +I could endure any thing before but a cat, and now +he's a cat to me. + +First Soldier +I perceive, sir, by the general's looks, we shall be +fain to hang you. + +PAROLLES +My life, sir, in any case: not that I am afraid to +die; but that, my offences being many, I would +repent out the remainder of nature: let me live, +sir, in a dungeon, i' the stocks, or any where, so I may live. + +First Soldier +We'll see what may be done, so you confess freely; +therefore, once more to this Captain Dumain: you +have answered to his reputation with the duke and to +his valour: what is his honesty? + +PAROLLES +He will steal, sir, an egg out of a cloister: for +rapes and ravishments he parallels Nessus: he +professes not keeping of oaths; in breaking 'em he +is stronger than Hercules: he will lie, sir, with +such volubility, that you would think truth were a +fool: drunkenness is his best virtue, for he will +be swine-drunk; and in his sleep he does little +harm, save to his bed-clothes about him; but they +know his conditions and lay him in straw. I have but +little more to say, sir, of his honesty: he has +every thing that an honest man should not have; what +an honest man should have, he has nothing. + +First Lord +I begin to love him for this. + +BERTRAM +For this description of thine honesty? A pox upon +him for me, he's more and more a cat. + +First Soldier +What say you to his expertness in war? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he has led the drum before the English +tragedians; to belie him, I will not, and more of +his soldiership I know not; except, in that country +he had the honour to be the officer at a place there +called Mile-end, to instruct for the doubling of +files: I would do the man what honour I can, but of +this I am not certain. + +First Lord +He hath out-villained villany so far, that the +rarity redeems him. + +BERTRAM +A pox on him, he's a cat still. + +First Soldier +His qualities being at this poor price, I need not +to ask you if gold will corrupt him to revolt. + +PAROLLES +Sir, for a quart d'ecu he will sell the fee-simple +of his salvation, the inheritance of it; and cut the +entail from all remainders, and a perpetual +succession for it perpetually. + +First Soldier +What's his brother, the other Captain Dumain? + +Second Lord +Why does be ask him of me? + +First Soldier +What's he? + +PAROLLES +E'en a crow o' the same nest; not altogether so +great as the first in goodness, but greater a great +deal in evil: he excels his brother for a coward, +yet his brother is reputed one of the best that is: +in a retreat he outruns any lackey; marry, in coming +on he has the cramp. + +First Soldier +If your life be saved, will you undertake to betray +the Florentine? + +PAROLLES +Ay, and the captain of his horse, Count Rousillon. + +First Soldier +I'll whisper with the general, and know his pleasure. + +PAROLLES +[Aside] I'll no more drumming; a plague of all +drums! Only to seem to deserve well, and to +beguile the supposition of that lascivious young boy +the count, have I run into this danger. Yet who +would have suspected an ambush where I was taken? + +First Soldier +There is no remedy, sir, but you must die: the +general says, you that have so traitorously +discovered the secrets of your army and made such +pestiferous reports of men very nobly held, can +serve the world for no honest use; therefore you +must die. Come, headsman, off with his head. + +PAROLLES +O Lord, sir, let me live, or let me see my death! + +First Lord +That shall you, and take your leave of all your friends. + +Unblinding him + +So, look about you: know you any here? + +BERTRAM +Good morrow, noble captain. + +Second Lord +God bless you, Captain Parolles. + +First Lord +God save you, noble captain. + +Second Lord +Captain, what greeting will you to my Lord Lafeu? +I am for France. + +First Lord +Good captain, will you give me a copy of the sonnet +you writ to Diana in behalf of the Count Rousillon? +an I were not a very coward, I'ld compel it of you: +but fare you well. + +Exeunt BERTRAM and Lords + +First Soldier +You are undone, captain, all but your scarf; that +has a knot on't yet + +PAROLLES +Who cannot be crushed with a plot? + +First Soldier +If you could find out a country where but women were +that had received so much shame, you might begin an +impudent nation. Fare ye well, sir; I am for France +too: we shall speak of you there. + +Exit with Soldiers + +PAROLLES +Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great, +'Twould burst at this. Captain I'll be no more; +But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft +As captain shall: simply the thing I am +Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart, +Let him fear this, for it will come to pass +that every braggart shall be found an ass. +Rust, sword? cool, blushes! and, Parolles, live +Safest in shame! being fool'd, by foolery thrive! +There's place and means for every man alive. +I'll after them. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Florence. The Widow's house. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA +HELENA +That you may well perceive I have not wrong'd you, +One of the greatest in the Christian world +Shall be my surety; 'fore whose throne 'tis needful, +Ere I can perfect mine intents, to kneel: +Time was, I did him a desired office, +Dear almost as his life; which gratitude +Through flinty Tartar's bosom would peep forth, +And answer, thanks: I duly am inform'd +His grace is at Marseilles; to which place +We have convenient convoy. You must know +I am supposed dead: the army breaking, +My husband hies him home; where, heaven aiding, +And by the leave of my good lord the king, +We'll be before our welcome. + +Widow +Gentle madam, +You never had a servant to whose trust +Your business was more welcome. + +HELENA +Nor you, mistress, +Ever a friend whose thoughts more truly labour +To recompense your love: doubt not but heaven +Hath brought me up to be your daughter's dower, +As it hath fated her to be my motive +And helper to a husband. But, O strange men! +That can such sweet use make of what they hate, +When saucy trusting of the cozen'd thoughts +Defiles the pitchy night: so lust doth play +With what it loathes for that which is away. +But more of this hereafter. You, Diana, +Under my poor instructions yet must suffer +Something in my behalf. + +DIANA +Let death and honesty +Go with your impositions, I am yours +Upon your will to suffer. + +HELENA +Yet, I pray you: +But with the word the time will bring on summer, +When briers shall have leaves as well as thorns, +And be as sweet as sharp. We must away; +Our wagon is prepared, and time revives us: +All's well that ends well; still the fine's the crown; +Whate'er the course, the end is the renown. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Enter COUNTESS, LAFEU, and Clown +LAFEU +No, no, no, your son was misled with a snipt-taffeta +fellow there, whose villanous saffron would have +made all the unbaked and doughy youth of a nation in +his colour: your daughter-in-law had been alive at +this hour, and your son here at home, more advanced +by the king than by that red-tailed humble-bee I speak of. + +COUNTESS +I would I had not known him; it was the death of the +most virtuous gentlewoman that ever nature had +praise for creating. If she had partaken of my +flesh, and cost me the dearest groans of a mother, I +could not have owed her a more rooted love. + +LAFEU +'Twas a good lady, 'twas a good lady: we may pick a +thousand salads ere we light on such another herb. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the +salad, or rather, the herb of grace. + +LAFEU +They are not herbs, you knave; they are nose-herbs. + +Clown +I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir; I have not much +skill in grass. + +LAFEU +Whether dost thou profess thyself, a knave or a fool? + +Clown +A fool, sir, at a woman's service, and a knave at a man's. + +LAFEU +Your distinction? + +Clown +I would cozen the man of his wife and do his service. + +LAFEU +So you were a knave at his service, indeed. + +Clown +And I would give his wife my bauble, sir, to do her service. + +LAFEU +I will subscribe for thee, thou art both knave and fool. + +Clown +At your service. + +LAFEU +No, no, no. + +Clown +Why, sir, if I cannot serve you, I can serve as +great a prince as you are. + +LAFEU +Who's that? a Frenchman? + +Clown +Faith, sir, a' has an English name; but his fisnomy +is more hotter in France than there. + +LAFEU +What prince is that? + +Clown +The black prince, sir; alias, the prince of +darkness; alias, the devil. + +LAFEU +Hold thee, there's my purse: I give thee not this +to suggest thee from thy master thou talkest of; +serve him still. + +Clown +I am a woodland fellow, sir, that always loved a +great fire; and the master I speak of ever keeps a +good fire. But, sure, he is the prince of the +world; let his nobility remain in's court. I am for +the house with the narrow gate, which I take to be +too little for pomp to enter: some that humble +themselves may; but the many will be too chill and +tender, and they'll be for the flowery way that +leads to the broad gate and the great fire. + +LAFEU +Go thy ways, I begin to be aweary of thee; and I +tell thee so before, because I would not fall out +with thee. Go thy ways: let my horses be well +looked to, without any tricks. + +Clown +If I put any tricks upon 'em, sir, they shall be +jades' tricks; which are their own right by the law of nature. + +Exit + +LAFEU +A shrewd knave and an unhappy. + +COUNTESS +So he is. My lord that's gone made himself much +sport out of him: by his authority he remains here, +which he thinks is a patent for his sauciness; and, +indeed, he has no pace, but runs where he will. + +LAFEU +I like him well; 'tis not amiss. And I was about to +tell you, since I heard of the good lady's death and +that my lord your son was upon his return home, I +moved the king my master to speak in the behalf of +my daughter; which, in the minority of them both, +his majesty, out of a self-gracious remembrance, did +first propose: his highness hath promised me to do +it: and, to stop up the displeasure he hath +conceived against your son, there is no fitter +matter. How does your ladyship like it? + +COUNTESS +With very much content, my lord; and I wish it +happily effected. + +LAFEU +His highness comes post from Marseilles, of as able +body as when he numbered thirty: he will be here +to-morrow, or I am deceived by him that in such +intelligence hath seldom failed. + +COUNTESS +It rejoices me, that I hope I shall see him ere I +die. I have letters that my son will be here +to-night: I shall beseech your lordship to remain +with me till they meet together. + +LAFEU +Madam, I was thinking with what manners I might +safely be admitted. + +COUNTESS +You need but plead your honourable privilege. + +LAFEU +Lady, of that I have made a bold charter; but I +thank my God it holds yet. + +Re-enter Clown + +Clown +O madam, yonder's my lord your son with a patch of +velvet on's face: whether there be a scar under't +or no, the velvet knows; but 'tis a goodly patch of +velvet: his left cheek is a cheek of two pile and a +half, but his right cheek is worn bare. + +LAFEU +A scar nobly got, or a noble scar, is a good livery +of honour; so belike is that. + +Clown +But it is your carbonadoed face. + +LAFEU +Let us go see your son, I pray you: I long to talk +with the young noble soldier. + +Clown +Faith there's a dozen of 'em, with delicate fine +hats and most courteous feathers, which bow the head +and nod at every man. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Marseilles. A street. + +Enter HELENA, Widow, and DIANA, with two Attendants +HELENA +But this exceeding posting day and night +Must wear your spirits low; we cannot help it: +But since you have made the days and nights as one, +To wear your gentle limbs in my affairs, +Be bold you do so grow in my requital +As nothing can unroot you. In happy time; + +Enter a Gentleman + +This man may help me to his majesty's ear, +If he would spend his power. God save you, sir. + +Gentleman +And you. + +HELENA +Sir, I have seen you in the court of France. + +Gentleman +I have been sometimes there. + +HELENA +I do presume, sir, that you are not fallen +From the report that goes upon your goodness; +An therefore, goaded with most sharp occasions, +Which lay nice manners by, I put you to +The use of your own virtues, for the which +I shall continue thankful. + +Gentleman +What's your will? + +HELENA +That it will please you +To give this poor petition to the king, +And aid me with that store of power you have +To come into his presence. + +Gentleman +The king's not here. + +HELENA +Not here, sir! + +Gentleman +Not, indeed: +He hence removed last night and with more haste +Than is his use. + +Widow +Lord, how we lose our pains! + +HELENA +ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL yet, +Though time seem so adverse and means unfit. +I do beseech you, whither is he gone? + +Gentleman +Marry, as I take it, to Rousillon; +Whither I am going. + +HELENA +I do beseech you, sir, +Since you are like to see the king before me, +Commend the paper to his gracious hand, +Which I presume shall render you no blame +But rather make you thank your pains for it. +I will come after you with what good speed +Our means will make us means. + +Gentleman +This I'll do for you. + +HELENA +And you shall find yourself to be well thank'd, +Whate'er falls more. We must to horse again. +Go, go, provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Rousillon. Before the COUNT's palace. + +Enter Clown, and PAROLLES, following +PAROLLES +Good Monsieur Lavache, give my Lord Lafeu this +letter: I have ere now, sir, been better known to +you, when I have held familiarity with fresher +clothes; but I am now, sir, muddied in fortune's +mood, and smell somewhat strong of her strong +displeasure. + +Clown +Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it +smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will +henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering. +Prithee, allow the wind. + +PAROLLES +Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake +but by a metaphor. + +Clown +Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my +nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get +thee further. + +PAROLLES +Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper. + +Clown +Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's +close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he +comes himself. + +Enter LAFEU + +Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's +cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the +unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he +says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the +carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed, +ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his +distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to +your lordship. + +Exit + +PAROLLES +My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly +scratched. + +LAFEU +And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to +pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the +knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who +of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves +thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for +you: let the justices make you and fortune friends: +I am for other business. + +PAROLLES +I beseech your honour to hear me one single word. + +LAFEU +You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't; +save your word. + +PAROLLES +My name, my good lord, is Parolles. + +LAFEU +You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion! +give me your hand. How does your drum? + +PAROLLES +O my good lord, you were the first that found me! + +LAFEU +Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee. + +PAROLLES +It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace, +for you did bring me out. + +LAFEU +Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once +both the office of God and the devil? One brings +thee in grace and the other brings thee out. + +Trumpets sound + +The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah, +inquire further after me; I had talk of you last +night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall +eat; go to, follow. + +PAROLLES +I praise God for you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rousillon. The COUNT's palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two French Lords, with Attendants +KING +We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem +Was made much poorer by it: but your son, +As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know +Her estimation home. + +COUNTESS +'Tis past, my liege; +And I beseech your majesty to make it +Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth; +When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force, +O'erbears it and burns on. + +KING +My honour'd lady, +I have forgiven and forgotten all; +Though my revenges were high bent upon him, +And watch'd the time to shoot. + +LAFEU +This I must say, +But first I beg my pardon, the young lord +Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady +Offence of mighty note; but to himself +The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife +Whose beauty did astonish the survey +Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive, +Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve +Humbly call'd mistress. + +KING +Praising what is lost +Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither; +We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill +All repetition: let him not ask our pardon; +The nature of his great offence is dead, +And deeper than oblivion we do bury +The incensing relics of it: let him approach, +A stranger, no offender; and inform him +So 'tis our will he should. + +Gentleman +I shall, my liege. + +Exit + +KING +What says he to your daughter? have you spoke? + +LAFEU +All that he is hath reference to your highness. + +KING +Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me +That set him high in fame. + +Enter BERTRAM + +LAFEU +He looks well on't. + +KING +I am not a day of season, +For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail +In me at once: but to the brightest beams +Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth; +The time is fair again. + +BERTRAM +My high-repented blames, +Dear sovereign, pardon to me. + +KING +All is whole; +Not one word more of the consumed time. +Let's take the instant by the forward top; +For we are old, and on our quick'st decrees +The inaudible and noiseless foot of Time +Steals ere we can effect them. You remember +The daughter of this lord? + +BERTRAM +Admiringly, my liege, at first +I stuck my choice upon her, ere my heart +Durst make too bold a herald of my tongue +Where the impression of mine eye infixing, +Contempt his scornful perspective did lend me, +Which warp'd the line of every other favour; +Scorn'd a fair colour, or express'd it stolen; +Extended or contracted all proportions +To a most hideous object: thence it came +That she whom all men praised and whom myself, +Since I have lost, have loved, was in mine eye +The dust that did offend it. + +KING +Well excused: +That thou didst love her, strikes some scores away +From the great compt: but love that comes too late, +Like a remorseful pardon slowly carried, +To the great sender turns a sour offence, +Crying, 'That's good that's gone.' Our rash faults +Make trivial price of serious things we have, +Not knowing them until we know their grave: +Oft our displeasures, to ourselves unjust, +Destroy our friends and after weep their dust +Our own love waking cries to see what's done, +While shame full late sleeps out the afternoon. +Be this sweet Helen's knell, and now forget her. +Send forth your amorous token for fair Maudlin: +The main consents are had; and here we'll stay +To see our widower's second marriage-day. + +COUNTESS +Which better than the first, O dear heaven, bless! +Or, ere they meet, in me, O nature, cesse! + +LAFEU +Come on, my son, in whom my house's name +Must be digested, give a favour from you +To sparkle in the spirits of my daughter, +That she may quickly come. + +BERTRAM gives a ring + +By my old beard, +And every hair that's on't, Helen, that's dead, +Was a sweet creature: such a ring as this, +The last that e'er I took her at court, +I saw upon her finger. + +BERTRAM +Hers it was not. + +KING +Now, pray you, let me see it; for mine eye, +While I was speaking, oft was fasten'd to't. +This ring was mine; and, when I gave it Helen, +I bade her, if her fortunes ever stood +Necessitied to help, that by this token +I would relieve her. Had you that craft, to reave +her +Of what should stead her most? + +BERTRAM +My gracious sovereign, +Howe'er it pleases you to take it so, +The ring was never hers. + +COUNTESS +Son, on my life, +I have seen her wear it; and she reckon'd it +At her life's rate. + +LAFEU +I am sure I saw her wear it. + +BERTRAM +You are deceived, my lord; she never saw it: +In Florence was it from a casement thrown me, +Wrapp'd in a paper, which contain'd the name +Of her that threw it: noble she was, and thought +I stood engaged: but when I had subscribed +To mine own fortune and inform'd her fully +I could not answer in that course of honour +As she had made the overture, she ceased +In heavy satisfaction and would never +Receive the ring again. + +KING +Plutus himself, +That knows the tinct and multiplying medicine, +Hath not in nature's mystery more science +Than I have in this ring: 'twas mine, 'twas Helen's, +Whoever gave it you. Then, if you know +That you are well acquainted with yourself, +Confess 'twas hers, and by what rough enforcement +You got it from her: she call'd the saints to surety +That she would never put it from her finger, +Unless she gave it to yourself in bed, +Where you have never come, or sent it us +Upon her great disaster. + +BERTRAM +She never saw it. + +KING +Thou speak'st it falsely, as I love mine honour; +And makest conjectural fears to come into me +Which I would fain shut out. If it should prove +That thou art so inhuman,--'twill not prove so;-- +And yet I know not: thou didst hate her deadly, +And she is dead; which nothing, but to close +Her eyes myself, could win me to believe, +More than to see this ring. Take him away. + +Guards seize BERTRAM + +My fore-past proofs, howe'er the matter fall, +Shall tax my fears of little vanity, +Having vainly fear'd too little. Away with him! +We'll sift this matter further. + +BERTRAM +If you shall prove +This ring was ever hers, you shall as easy +Prove that I husbanded her bed in Florence, +Where yet she never was. + +Exit, guarded + +KING +I am wrapp'd in dismal thinkings. + +Enter a Gentleman + +Gentleman +Gracious sovereign, +Whether I have been to blame or no, I know not: +Here's a petition from a Florentine, +Who hath for four or five removes come short +To tender it herself. I undertook it, +Vanquish'd thereto by the fair grace and speech +Of the poor suppliant, who by this I know +Is here attending: her business looks in her +With an importing visage; and she told me, +In a sweet verbal brief, it did concern +Your highness with herself. + +KING +[Reads] Upon his many protestations to marry me +when his wife was dead, I blush to say it, he won +me. Now is the Count Rousillon a widower: his vows +are forfeited to me, and my honour's paid to him. He +stole from Florence, taking no leave, and I follow +him to his country for justice: grant it me, O +king! in you it best lies; otherwise a seducer +flourishes, and a poor maid is undone. +DIANA CAPILET. + +LAFEU +I will buy me a son-in-law in a fair, and toll for +this: I'll none of him. + +KING +The heavens have thought well on thee Lafeu, +To bring forth this discovery. Seek these suitors: +Go speedily and bring again the count. +I am afeard the life of Helen, lady, +Was foully snatch'd. + +COUNTESS +Now, justice on the doers! + +Re-enter BERTRAM, guarded + +KING +I wonder, sir, sith wives are monsters to you, +And that you fly them as you swear them lordship, +Yet you desire to marry. + +Enter Widow and DIANA + +What woman's that? + +DIANA +I am, my lord, a wretched Florentine, +Derived from the ancient Capilet: +My suit, as I do understand, you know, +And therefore know how far I may be pitied. + +Widow +I am her mother, sir, whose age and honour +Both suffer under this complaint we bring, +And both shall cease, without your remedy. + +KING +Come hither, count; do you know these women? + +BERTRAM +My lord, I neither can nor will deny +But that I know them: do they charge me further? + +DIANA +Why do you look so strange upon your wife? + +BERTRAM +She's none of mine, my lord. + +DIANA +If you shall marry, +You give away this hand, and that is mine; +You give away heaven's vows, and those are mine; +You give away myself, which is known mine; +For I by vow am so embodied yours, +That she which marries you must marry me, +Either both or none. + +LAFEU +Your reputation comes too short for my daughter; you +are no husband for her. + +BERTRAM +My lord, this is a fond and desperate creature, +Whom sometime I have laugh'd with: let your highness +Lay a more noble thought upon mine honour +Than for to think that I would sink it here. + +KING +Sir, for my thoughts, you have them ill to friend +Till your deeds gain them: fairer prove your honour +Than in my thought it lies. + +DIANA +Good my lord, +Ask him upon his oath, if he does think +He had not my virginity. + +KING +What say'st thou to her? + +BERTRAM +She's impudent, my lord, +And was a common gamester to the camp. + +DIANA +He does me wrong, my lord; if I were so, +He might have bought me at a common price: +Do not believe him. O, behold this ring, +Whose high respect and rich validity +Did lack a parallel; yet for all that +He gave it to a commoner o' the camp, +If I be one. + +COUNTESS +He blushes, and 'tis it: +Of six preceding ancestors, that gem, +Conferr'd by testament to the sequent issue, +Hath it been owed and worn. This is his wife; +That ring's a thousand proofs. + +KING +Methought you said +You saw one here in court could witness it. + +DIANA +I did, my lord, but loath am to produce +So bad an instrument: his name's Parolles. + +LAFEU +I saw the man to-day, if man he be. + +KING +Find him, and bring him hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +BERTRAM +What of him? +He's quoted for a most perfidious slave, +With all the spots o' the world tax'd and debosh'd; +Whose nature sickens but to speak a truth. +Am I or that or this for what he'll utter, +That will speak any thing? + +KING +She hath that ring of yours. + +BERTRAM +I think she has: certain it is I liked her, +And boarded her i' the wanton way of youth: +She knew her distance and did angle for me, +Madding my eagerness with her restraint, +As all impediments in fancy's course +Are motives of more fancy; and, in fine, +Her infinite cunning, with her modern grace, +Subdued me to her rate: she got the ring; +And I had that which any inferior might +At market-price have bought. + +DIANA +I must be patient: +You, that have turn'd off a first so noble wife, +May justly diet me. I pray you yet; +Since you lack virtue, I will lose a husband; +Send for your ring, I will return it home, +And give me mine again. + +BERTRAM +I have it not. + +KING +What ring was yours, I pray you? + +DIANA +Sir, much like +The same upon your finger. + +KING +Know you this ring? this ring was his of late. + +DIANA +And this was it I gave him, being abed. + +KING +The story then goes false, you threw it him +Out of a casement. + +DIANA +I have spoke the truth. + +Enter PAROLLES + +BERTRAM +My lord, I do confess the ring was hers. + +KING +You boggle shrewdly, every feather stars you. +Is this the man you speak of? + +DIANA +Ay, my lord. + +KING +Tell me, sirrah, but tell me true, I charge you, +Not fearing the displeasure of your master, +Which on your just proceeding I'll keep off, +By him and by this woman here what know you? + +PAROLLES +So please your majesty, my master hath been an +honourable gentleman: tricks he hath had in him, +which gentlemen have. + +KING +Come, come, to the purpose: did he love this woman? + +PAROLLES +Faith, sir, he did love her; but how? + +KING +How, I pray you? + +PAROLLES +He did love her, sir, as a gentleman loves a woman. + +KING +How is that? + +PAROLLES +He loved her, sir, and loved her not. + +KING +As thou art a knave, and no knave. What an +equivocal companion is this! + +PAROLLES +I am a poor man, and at your majesty's command. + +LAFEU +He's a good drum, my lord, but a naughty orator. + +DIANA +Do you know he promised me marriage? + +PAROLLES +Faith, I know more than I'll speak. + +KING +But wilt thou not speak all thou knowest? + +PAROLLES +Yes, so please your majesty. I did go between them, +as I said; but more than that, he loved her: for +indeed he was mad for her, and talked of Satan and +of Limbo and of Furies and I know not what: yet I +was in that credit with them at that time that I +knew of their going to bed, and of other motions, +as promising her marriage, and things which would +derive me ill will to speak of; therefore I will not +speak what I know. + +KING +Thou hast spoken all already, unless thou canst say +they are married: but thou art too fine in thy +evidence; therefore stand aside. +This ring, you say, was yours? + +DIANA +Ay, my good lord. + +KING +Where did you buy it? or who gave it you? + +DIANA +It was not given me, nor I did not buy it. + +KING +Who lent it you? + +DIANA +It was not lent me neither. + +KING +Where did you find it, then? + +DIANA +I found it not. + +KING +If it were yours by none of all these ways, +How could you give it him? + +DIANA +I never gave it him. + +LAFEU +This woman's an easy glove, my lord; she goes off +and on at pleasure. + +KING +This ring was mine; I gave it his first wife. + +DIANA +It might be yours or hers, for aught I know. + +KING +Take her away; I do not like her now; +To prison with her: and away with him. +Unless thou tell'st me where thou hadst this ring, +Thou diest within this hour. + +DIANA +I'll never tell you. + +KING +Take her away. + +DIANA +I'll put in bail, my liege. + +KING +I think thee now some common customer. + +DIANA +By Jove, if ever I knew man, 'twas you. + +KING +Wherefore hast thou accused him all this while? + +DIANA +Because he's guilty, and he is not guilty: +He knows I am no maid, and he'll swear to't; +I'll swear I am a maid, and he knows not. +Great king, I am no strumpet, by my life; +I am either maid, or else this old man's wife. + +KING +She does abuse our ears: to prison with her. + +DIANA +Good mother, fetch my bail. Stay, royal sir: + +Exit Widow + +The jeweller that owes the ring is sent for, +And he shall surety me. But for this lord, +Who hath abused me, as he knows himself, +Though yet he never harm'd me, here I quit him: +He knows himself my bed he hath defiled; +And at that time he got his wife with child: +Dead though she be, she feels her young one kick: +So there's my riddle: one that's dead is quick: +And now behold the meaning. + +Re-enter Widow, with HELENA + +KING +Is there no exorcist +Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes? +Is't real that I see? + +HELENA +No, my good lord; +'Tis but the shadow of a wife you see, +The name and not the thing. + +BERTRAM +Both, both. O, pardon! + +HELENA +O my good lord, when I was like this maid, +I found you wondrous kind. There is your ring; +And, look you, here's your letter; this it says: +'When from my finger you can get this ring +And are by me with child,' & c. This is done: +Will you be mine, now you are doubly won? + +BERTRAM +If she, my liege, can make me know this clearly, +I'll love her dearly, ever, ever dearly. + +HELENA +If it appear not plain and prove untrue, +Deadly divorce step between me and you! +O my dear mother, do I see you living? + +LAFEU +Mine eyes smell onions; I shall weep anon: + +To PAROLLES + +Good Tom Drum, lend me a handkercher: so, +I thank thee: wait on me home, I'll make sport with thee: +Let thy courtesies alone, they are scurvy ones. + +KING +Let us from point to point this story know, +To make the even truth in pleasure flow. + +To DIANA + +If thou be'st yet a fresh uncropped flower, +Choose thou thy husband, and I'll pay thy dower; +For I can guess that by thy honest aid +Thou keep'st a wife herself, thyself a maid. +Of that and all the progress, more or less, +Resolvedly more leisure shall express: +All yet seems well; and if it end so meet, +The bitter past, more welcome is the sweet. + +Flourish + +EPILOGUE + +KING +The king's a beggar, now the play is done: +All is well ended, if this suit be won, +That you express content; which we will pay, +With strife to please you, day exceeding day: +Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts; +Your gentle hands lend us, and take our hearts. + +Exeunt +As You Like It +Shakespeare homepage | As You Like It | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Orchard of Oliver's house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ORLANDO +As I remember, Adam, it was upon this fashion +bequeathed me by will but poor a thousand crowns, +and, as thou sayest, charged my brother, on his +blessing, to breed me well: and there begins my +sadness. My brother Jaques he keeps at school, and +report speaks goldenly of his profit: for my part, +he keeps me rustically at home, or, to speak more +properly, stays me here at home unkept; for call you +that keeping for a gentleman of my birth, that +differs not from the stalling of an ox? His horses +are bred better; for, besides that they are fair +with their feeding, they are taught their manage, +and to that end riders dearly hired: but I, his +brother, gain nothing under him but growth; for the +which his animals on his dunghills are as much +bound to him as I. Besides this nothing that he so +plentifully gives me, the something that nature gave +me his countenance seems to take from me: he lets +me feed with his hinds, bars me the place of a +brother, and, as much as in him lies, mines my +gentility with my education. This is it, Adam, that +grieves me; and the spirit of my father, which I +think is within me, begins to mutiny against this +servitude: I will no longer endure it, though yet I +know no wise remedy how to avoid it. + +ADAM +Yonder comes my master, your brother. + +ORLANDO +Go apart, Adam, and thou shalt hear how he will +shake me up. + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Now, sir! what make you here? + +ORLANDO +Nothing: I am not taught to make any thing. + +OLIVER +What mar you then, sir? + +ORLANDO +Marry, sir, I am helping you to mar that which God +made, a poor unworthy brother of yours, with idleness. + +OLIVER +Marry, sir, be better employed, and be naught awhile. + +ORLANDO +Shall I keep your hogs and eat husks with them? +What prodigal portion have I spent, that I should +come to such penury? + +OLIVER +Know you where your are, sir? + +ORLANDO +O, sir, very well; here in your orchard. + +OLIVER +Know you before whom, sir? + +ORLANDO +Ay, better than him I am before knows me. I know +you are my eldest brother; and, in the gentle +condition of blood, you should so know me. The +courtesy of nations allows you my better, in that +you are the first-born; but the same tradition +takes not away my blood, were there twenty brothers +betwixt us: I have as much of my father in me as +you; albeit, I confess, your coming before me is +nearer to his reverence. + +OLIVER +What, boy! + +ORLANDO +Come, come, elder brother, you are too young in this. + +OLIVER +Wilt thou lay hands on me, villain? + +ORLANDO +I am no villain; I am the youngest son of Sir +Rowland de Boys; he was my father, and he is thrice +a villain that says such a father begot villains. +Wert thou not my brother, I would not take this hand +from thy throat till this other had pulled out thy +tongue for saying so: thou hast railed on thyself. + +ADAM +Sweet masters, be patient: for your father's +remembrance, be at accord. + +OLIVER +Let me go, I say. + +ORLANDO +I will not, till I please: you shall hear me. My +father charged you in his will to give me good +education: you have trained me like a peasant, +obscuring and hiding from me all gentleman-like +qualities. The spirit of my father grows strong in +me, and I will no longer endure it: therefore allow +me such exercises as may become a gentleman, or +give me the poor allottery my father left me by +testament; with that I will go buy my fortunes. + +OLIVER +And what wilt thou do? beg, when that is spent? +Well, sir, get you in: I will not long be troubled +with you; you shall have some part of your will: I +pray you, leave me. + +ORLANDO +I will no further offend you than becomes me for my good. + +OLIVER +Get you with him, you old dog. + +ADAM +Is 'old dog' my reward? Most true, I have lost my +teeth in your service. God be with my old master! +he would not have spoke such a word. + +Exeunt ORLANDO and ADAM + +OLIVER +Is it even so? begin you to grow upon me? I will +physic your rankness, and yet give no thousand +crowns neither. Holla, Dennis! + +Enter DENNIS + +DENNIS +Calls your worship? + +OLIVER +Was not Charles, the duke's wrestler, here to speak with me? + +DENNIS +So please you, he is here at the door and importunes +access to you. + +OLIVER +Call him in. + +Exit DENNIS + +'Twill be a good way; and to-morrow the wrestling is. + +Enter CHARLES + +CHARLES +Good morrow to your worship. + +OLIVER +Good Monsieur Charles, what's the new news at the +new court? + +CHARLES +There's no news at the court, sir, but the old news: +that is, the old duke is banished by his younger +brother the new duke; and three or four loving lords +have put themselves into voluntary exile with him, +whose lands and revenues enrich the new duke; +therefore he gives them good leave to wander. + +OLIVER +Can you tell if Rosalind, the duke's daughter, be +banished with her father? + +CHARLES +O, no; for the duke's daughter, her cousin, so loves +her, being ever from their cradles bred together, +that she would have followed her exile, or have died +to stay behind her. She is at the court, and no +less beloved of her uncle than his own daughter; and +never two ladies loved as they do. + +OLIVER +Where will the old duke live? + +CHARLES +They say he is already in the forest of Arden, and +a many merry men with him; and there they live like +the old Robin Hood of England: they say many young +gentlemen flock to him every day, and fleet the time +carelessly, as they did in the golden world. + +OLIVER +What, you wrestle to-morrow before the new duke? + +CHARLES +Marry, do I, sir; and I came to acquaint you with a +matter. I am given, sir, secretly to understand +that your younger brother Orlando hath a disposition +to come in disguised against me to try a fall. +To-morrow, sir, I wrestle for my credit; and he that +escapes me without some broken limb shall acquit him +well. Your brother is but young and tender; and, +for your love, I would be loath to foil him, as I +must, for my own honour, if he come in: therefore, +out of my love to you, I came hither to acquaint you +withal, that either you might stay him from his +intendment or brook such disgrace well as he shall +run into, in that it is a thing of his own search +and altogether against my will. + +OLIVER +Charles, I thank thee for thy love to me, which +thou shalt find I will most kindly requite. I had +myself notice of my brother's purpose herein and +have by underhand means laboured to dissuade him from +it, but he is resolute. I'll tell thee, Charles: +it is the stubbornest young fellow of France, full +of ambition, an envious emulator of every man's +good parts, a secret and villanous contriver against +me his natural brother: therefore use thy +discretion; I had as lief thou didst break his neck +as his finger. And thou wert best look to't; for if +thou dost him any slight disgrace or if he do not +mightily grace himself on thee, he will practise +against thee by poison, entrap thee by some +treacherous device and never leave thee till he +hath ta'en thy life by some indirect means or other; +for, I assure thee, and almost with tears I speak +it, there is not one so young and so villanous this +day living. I speak but brotherly of him; but +should I anatomize him to thee as he is, I must +blush and weep and thou must look pale and wonder. + +CHARLES +I am heartily glad I came hither to you. If he come +to-morrow, I'll give him his payment: if ever he go +alone again, I'll never wrestle for prize more: and +so God keep your worship! + +OLIVER +Farewell, good Charles. + +Exit CHARLES + +Now will I stir this gamester: I hope I shall see +an end of him; for my soul, yet I know not why, +hates nothing more than he. Yet he's gentle, never +schooled and yet learned, full of noble device, of +all sorts enchantingly beloved, and indeed so much +in the heart of the world, and especially of my own +people, who best know him, that I am altogether +misprised: but it shall not be so long; this +wrestler shall clear all: nothing remains but that +I kindle the boy thither; which now I'll go about. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Lawn before the Duke's palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +I pray thee, Rosalind, sweet my coz, be merry. + +ROSALIND +Dear Celia, I show more mirth than I am mistress of; +and would you yet I were merrier? Unless you could +teach me to forget a banished father, you must not +learn me how to remember any extraordinary pleasure. + +CELIA +Herein I see thou lovest me not with the full weight +that I love thee. If my uncle, thy banished father, +had banished thy uncle, the duke my father, so thou +hadst been still with me, I could have taught my +love to take thy father for mine: so wouldst thou, +if the truth of thy love to me were so righteously +tempered as mine is to thee. + +ROSALIND +Well, I will forget the condition of my estate, to +rejoice in yours. + +CELIA +You know my father hath no child but I, nor none is +like to have: and, truly, when he dies, thou shalt +be his heir, for what he hath taken away from thy +father perforce, I will render thee again in +affection; by mine honour, I will; and when I break +that oath, let me turn monster: therefore, my +sweet Rose, my dear Rose, be merry. + +ROSALIND +From henceforth I will, coz, and devise sports. Let +me see; what think you of falling in love? + +CELIA +Marry, I prithee, do, to make sport withal: but +love no man in good earnest; nor no further in sport +neither than with safety of a pure blush thou mayst +in honour come off again. + +ROSALIND +What shall be our sport, then? + +CELIA +Let us sit and mock the good housewife Fortune from +her wheel, that her gifts may henceforth be bestowed equally. + +ROSALIND +I would we could do so, for her benefits are +mightily misplaced, and the bountiful blind woman +doth most mistake in her gifts to women. + +CELIA +'Tis true; for those that she makes fair she scarce +makes honest, and those that she makes honest she +makes very ill-favouredly. + +ROSALIND +Nay, now thou goest from Fortune's office to +Nature's: Fortune reigns in gifts of the world, +not in the lineaments of Nature. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +No? when Nature hath made a fair creature, may she +not by Fortune fall into the fire? Though Nature +hath given us wit to flout at Fortune, hath not +Fortune sent in this fool to cut off the argument? + +ROSALIND +Indeed, there is Fortune too hard for Nature, when +Fortune makes Nature's natural the cutter-off of +Nature's wit. + +CELIA +Peradventure this is not Fortune's work neither, but +Nature's; who perceiveth our natural wits too dull +to reason of such goddesses and hath sent this +natural for our whetstone; for always the dulness of +the fool is the whetstone of the wits. How now, +wit! whither wander you? + +TOUCHSTONE +Mistress, you must come away to your father. + +CELIA +Were you made the messenger? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, by mine honour, but I was bid to come for you. + +ROSALIND +Where learned you that oath, fool? + +TOUCHSTONE +Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they +were good pancakes and swore by his honour the +mustard was naught: now I'll stand to it, the +pancakes were naught and the mustard was good, and +yet was not the knight forsworn. + +CELIA +How prove you that, in the great heap of your +knowledge? + +ROSALIND +Ay, marry, now unmuzzle your wisdom. + +TOUCHSTONE +Stand you both forth now: stroke your chins, and +swear by your beards that I am a knave. + +CELIA +By our beards, if we had them, thou art. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my knavery, if I had it, then I were; but if you +swear by that that is not, you are not forsworn: no +more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he +never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away +before ever he saw those pancakes or that mustard. + +CELIA +Prithee, who is't that thou meanest? + +TOUCHSTONE +One that old Frederick, your father, loves. + +CELIA +My father's love is enough to honour him: enough! +speak no more of him; you'll be whipped for taxation +one of these days. + +TOUCHSTONE +The more pity, that fools may not speak wisely what +wise men do foolishly. + +CELIA +By my troth, thou sayest true; for since the little +wit that fools have was silenced, the little foolery +that wise men have makes a great show. Here comes +Monsieur Le Beau. + +ROSALIND +With his mouth full of news. + +CELIA +Which he will put on us, as pigeons feed their young. + +ROSALIND +Then shall we be news-crammed. + +CELIA +All the better; we shall be the more marketable. + +Enter LE BEAU + +Bon jour, Monsieur Le Beau: what's the news? + +LE BEAU +Fair princess, you have lost much good sport. + +CELIA +Sport! of what colour? + +LE BEAU +What colour, madam! how shall I answer you? + +ROSALIND +As wit and fortune will. + +TOUCHSTONE +Or as the Destinies decree. + +CELIA +Well said: that was laid on with a trowel. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, if I keep not my rank,-- + +ROSALIND +Thou losest thy old smell. + +LE BEAU +You amaze me, ladies: I would have told you of good +wrestling, which you have lost the sight of. + +ROSALIND +You tell us the manner of the wrestling. + +LE BEAU +I will tell you the beginning; and, if it please +your ladyships, you may see the end; for the best is +yet to do; and here, where you are, they are coming +to perform it. + +CELIA +Well, the beginning, that is dead and buried. + +LE BEAU +There comes an old man and his three sons,-- + +CELIA +I could match this beginning with an old tale. + +LE BEAU +Three proper young men, of excellent growth and presence. + +ROSALIND +With bills on their necks, 'Be it known unto all men +by these presents.' + +LE BEAU +The eldest of the three wrestled with Charles, the +duke's wrestler; which Charles in a moment threw him +and broke three of his ribs, that there is little +hope of life in him: so he served the second, and +so the third. Yonder they lie; the poor old man, +their father, making such pitiful dole over them +that all the beholders take his part with weeping. + +ROSALIND +Alas! + +TOUCHSTONE +But what is the sport, monsieur, that the ladies +have lost? + +LE BEAU +Why, this that I speak of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Thus men may grow wiser every day: it is the first +time that ever I heard breaking of ribs was sport +for ladies. + +CELIA +Or I, I promise thee. + +ROSALIND +But is there any else longs to see this broken music +in his sides? is there yet another dotes upon +rib-breaking? Shall we see this wrestling, cousin? + +LE BEAU +You must, if you stay here; for here is the place +appointed for the wrestling, and they are ready to +perform it. + +CELIA +Yonder, sure, they are coming: let us now stay and see it. + +Flourish. Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, ORLANDO, CHARLES, and Attendants + +DUKE FREDERICK +Come on: since the youth will not be entreated, his +own peril on his forwardness. + +ROSALIND +Is yonder the man? + +LE BEAU +Even he, madam. + +CELIA +Alas, he is too young! yet he looks successfully. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How now, daughter and cousin! are you crept hither +to see the wrestling? + +ROSALIND +Ay, my liege, so please you give us leave. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You will take little delight in it, I can tell you; +there is such odds in the man. In pity of the +challenger's youth I would fain dissuade him, but he +will not be entreated. Speak to him, ladies; see if +you can move him. + +CELIA +Call him hither, good Monsieur Le Beau. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Do so: I'll not be by. + +LE BEAU +Monsieur the challenger, the princesses call for you. + +ORLANDO +I attend them with all respect and duty. + +ROSALIND +Young man, have you challenged Charles the wrestler? + +ORLANDO +No, fair princess; he is the general challenger: I +come but in, as others do, to try with him the +strength of my youth. + +CELIA +Young gentleman, your spirits are too bold for your +years. You have seen cruel proof of this man's +strength: if you saw yourself with your eyes or +knew yourself with your judgment, the fear of your +adventure would counsel you to a more equal +enterprise. We pray you, for your own sake, to +embrace your own safety and give over this attempt. + +ROSALIND +Do, young sir; your reputation shall not therefore +be misprised: we will make it our suit to the duke +that the wrestling might not go forward. + +ORLANDO +I beseech you, punish me not with your hard +thoughts; wherein I confess me much guilty, to deny +so fair and excellent ladies any thing. But let +your fair eyes and gentle wishes go with me to my +trial: wherein if I be foiled, there is but one +shamed that was never gracious; if killed, but one +dead that was willing to be so: I shall do my +friends no wrong, for I have none to lament me, the +world no injury, for in it I have nothing; only in +the world I fill up a place, which may be better +supplied when I have made it empty. + +ROSALIND +The little strength that I have, I would it were with you. + +CELIA +And mine, to eke out hers. + +ROSALIND +Fare you well: pray heaven I be deceived in you! + +CELIA +Your heart's desires be with you! + +CHARLES +Come, where is this young gallant that is so +desirous to lie with his mother earth? + +ORLANDO +Ready, sir; but his will hath in it a more modest working. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You shall try but one fall. + +CHARLES +No, I warrant your grace, you shall not entreat him +to a second, that have so mightily persuaded him +from a first. + +ORLANDO +An you mean to mock me after, you should not have +mocked me before: but come your ways. + +ROSALIND +Now Hercules be thy speed, young man! + +CELIA +I would I were invisible, to catch the strong +fellow by the leg. + +They wrestle + +ROSALIND +O excellent young man! + +CELIA +If I had a thunderbolt in mine eye, I can tell who +should down. + +Shout. CHARLES is thrown + +DUKE FREDERICK +No more, no more. + +ORLANDO +Yes, I beseech your grace: I am not yet well breathed. + +DUKE FREDERICK +How dost thou, Charles? + +LE BEAU +He cannot speak, my lord. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Bear him away. What is thy name, young man? + +ORLANDO +Orlando, my liege; the youngest son of Sir Rowland de Boys. + +DUKE FREDERICK +I would thou hadst been son to some man else: +The world esteem'd thy father honourable, +But I did find him still mine enemy: +Thou shouldst have better pleased me with this deed, +Hadst thou descended from another house. +But fare thee well; thou art a gallant youth: +I would thou hadst told me of another father. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK, train, and LE BEAU + +CELIA +Were I my father, coz, would I do this? + +ORLANDO +I am more proud to be Sir Rowland's son, +His youngest son; and would not change that calling, +To be adopted heir to Frederick. + +ROSALIND +My father loved Sir Rowland as his soul, +And all the world was of my father's mind: +Had I before known this young man his son, +I should have given him tears unto entreaties, +Ere he should thus have ventured. + +CELIA +Gentle cousin, +Let us go thank him and encourage him: +My father's rough and envious disposition +Sticks me at heart. Sir, you have well deserved: +If you do keep your promises in love +But justly, as you have exceeded all promise, +Your mistress shall be happy. + +ROSALIND +Gentleman, + +Giving him a chain from her neck + +Wear this for me, one out of suits with fortune, +That could give more, but that her hand lacks means. +Shall we go, coz? + +CELIA +Ay. Fare you well, fair gentleman. + +ORLANDO +Can I not say, I thank you? My better parts +Are all thrown down, and that which here stands up +Is but a quintain, a mere lifeless block. + +ROSALIND +He calls us back: my pride fell with my fortunes; +I'll ask him what he would. Did you call, sir? +Sir, you have wrestled well and overthrown +More than your enemies. + +CELIA +Will you go, coz? + +ROSALIND +Have with you. Fare you well. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +ORLANDO +What passion hangs these weights upon my tongue? +I cannot speak to her, yet she urged conference. +O poor Orlando, thou art overthrown! +Or Charles or something weaker masters thee. + +Re-enter LE BEAU + +LE BEAU +Good sir, I do in friendship counsel you +To leave this place. Albeit you have deserved +High commendation, true applause and love, +Yet such is now the duke's condition +That he misconstrues all that you have done. +The duke is humorous; what he is indeed, +More suits you to conceive than I to speak of. + +ORLANDO +I thank you, sir: and, pray you, tell me this: +Which of the two was daughter of the duke +That here was at the wrestling? + +LE BEAU +Neither his daughter, if we judge by manners; +But yet indeed the lesser is his daughter +The other is daughter to the banish'd duke, +And here detain'd by her usurping uncle, +To keep his daughter company; whose loves +Are dearer than the natural bond of sisters. +But I can tell you that of late this duke +Hath ta'en displeasure 'gainst his gentle niece, +Grounded upon no other argument +But that the people praise her for her virtues +And pity her for her good father's sake; +And, on my life, his malice 'gainst the lady +Will suddenly break forth. Sir, fare you well: +Hereafter, in a better world than this, +I shall desire more love and knowledge of you. + +ORLANDO +I rest much bounden to you: fare you well. + +Exit LE BEAU + +Thus must I from the smoke into the smother; +From tyrant duke unto a tyrant brother: +But heavenly Rosalind! + +Exit + +SCENE III. A room in the palace. + +Enter CELIA and ROSALIND +CELIA +Why, cousin! why, Rosalind! Cupid have mercy! not a word? + +ROSALIND +Not one to throw at a dog. + +CELIA +No, thy words are too precious to be cast away upon +curs; throw some of them at me; come, lame me with reasons. + +ROSALIND +Then there were two cousins laid up; when the one +should be lamed with reasons and the other mad +without any. + +CELIA +But is all this for your father? + +ROSALIND +No, some of it is for my child's father. O, how +full of briers is this working-day world! + +CELIA +They are but burs, cousin, thrown upon thee in +holiday foolery: if we walk not in the trodden +paths our very petticoats will catch them. + +ROSALIND +I could shake them off my coat: these burs are in my heart. + +CELIA +Hem them away. + +ROSALIND +I would try, if I could cry 'hem' and have him. + +CELIA +Come, come, wrestle with thy affections. + +ROSALIND +O, they take the part of a better wrestler than myself! + +CELIA +O, a good wish upon you! you will try in time, in +despite of a fall. But, turning these jests out of +service, let us talk in good earnest: is it +possible, on such a sudden, you should fall into so +strong a liking with old Sir Rowland's youngest son? + +ROSALIND +The duke my father loved his father dearly. + +CELIA +Doth it therefore ensue that you should love his son +dearly? By this kind of chase, I should hate him, +for my father hated his father dearly; yet I hate +not Orlando. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, hate him not, for my sake. + +CELIA +Why should I not? doth he not deserve well? + +ROSALIND +Let me love him for that, and do you love him +because I do. Look, here comes the duke. + +CELIA +With his eyes full of anger. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords + +DUKE FREDERICK +Mistress, dispatch you with your safest haste +And get you from our court. + +ROSALIND +Me, uncle? + +DUKE FREDERICK +You, cousin +Within these ten days if that thou be'st found +So near our public court as twenty miles, +Thou diest for it. + +ROSALIND +I do beseech your grace, +Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me: +If with myself I hold intelligence +Or have acquaintance with mine own desires, +If that I do not dream or be not frantic,-- +As I do trust I am not--then, dear uncle, +Never so much as in a thought unborn +Did I offend your highness. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thus do all traitors: +If their purgation did consist in words, +They are as innocent as grace itself: +Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not. + +ROSALIND +Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor: +Tell me whereon the likelihood depends. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Thou art thy father's daughter; there's enough. + +ROSALIND +So was I when your highness took his dukedom; +So was I when your highness banish'd him: +Treason is not inherited, my lord; +Or, if we did derive it from our friends, +What's that to me? my father was no traitor: +Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much +To think my poverty is treacherous. + +CELIA +Dear sovereign, hear me speak. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Ay, Celia; we stay'd her for your sake, +Else had she with her father ranged along. + +CELIA +I did not then entreat to have her stay; +It was your pleasure and your own remorse: +I was too young that time to value her; +But now I know her: if she be a traitor, +Why so am I; we still have slept together, +Rose at an instant, learn'd, play'd, eat together, +And wheresoever we went, like Juno's swans, +Still we went coupled and inseparable. + +DUKE FREDERICK +She is too subtle for thee; and her smoothness, +Her very silence and her patience +Speak to the people, and they pity her. +Thou art a fool: she robs thee of thy name; +And thou wilt show more bright and seem more virtuous +When she is gone. Then open not thy lips: +Firm and irrevocable is my doom +Which I have pass'd upon her; she is banish'd. + +CELIA +Pronounce that sentence then on me, my liege: +I cannot live out of her company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +You are a fool. You, niece, provide yourself: +If you outstay the time, upon mine honour, +And in the greatness of my word, you die. + +Exeunt DUKE FREDERICK and Lords + +CELIA +O my poor Rosalind, whither wilt thou go? +Wilt thou change fathers? I will give thee mine. +I charge thee, be not thou more grieved than I am. + +ROSALIND +I have more cause. + +CELIA +Thou hast not, cousin; +Prithee be cheerful: know'st thou not, the duke +Hath banish'd me, his daughter? + +ROSALIND +That he hath not. + +CELIA +No, hath not? Rosalind lacks then the love +Which teacheth thee that thou and I am one: +Shall we be sunder'd? shall we part, sweet girl? +No: let my father seek another heir. +Therefore devise with me how we may fly, +Whither to go and what to bear with us; +And do not seek to take your change upon you, +To bear your griefs yourself and leave me out; +For, by this heaven, now at our sorrows pale, +Say what thou canst, I'll go along with thee. + +ROSALIND +Why, whither shall we go? + +CELIA +To seek my uncle in the forest of Arden. + +ROSALIND +Alas, what danger will it be to us, +Maids as we are, to travel forth so far! +Beauty provoketh thieves sooner than gold. + +CELIA +I'll put myself in poor and mean attire +And with a kind of umber smirch my face; +The like do you: so shall we pass along +And never stir assailants. + +ROSALIND +Were it not better, +Because that I am more than common tall, +That I did suit me all points like a man? +A gallant curtle-axe upon my thigh, +A boar-spear in my hand; and--in my heart +Lie there what hidden woman's fear there will-- +We'll have a swashing and a martial outside, +As many other mannish cowards have +That do outface it with their semblances. + +CELIA +What shall I call thee when thou art a man? + +ROSALIND +I'll have no worse a name than Jove's own page; +And therefore look you call me Ganymede. +But what will you be call'd? + +CELIA +Something that hath a reference to my state +No longer Celia, but Aliena. + +ROSALIND +But, cousin, what if we assay'd to steal +The clownish fool out of your father's court? +Would he not be a comfort to our travel? + +CELIA +He'll go along o'er the wide world with me; +Leave me alone to woo him. Let's away, +And get our jewels and our wealth together, +Devise the fittest time and safest way +To hide us from pursuit that will be made +After my flight. Now go we in content +To liberty and not to banishment. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and two or three Lords, like foresters +DUKE SENIOR +Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile, +Hath not old custom made this life more sweet +Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods +More free from peril than the envious court? +Here feel we but the penalty of Adam, +The seasons' difference, as the icy fang +And churlish chiding of the winter's wind, +Which, when it bites and blows upon my body, +Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say +'This is no flattery: these are counsellors +That feelingly persuade me what I am.' +Sweet are the uses of adversity, +Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, +Wears yet a precious jewel in his head; +And this our life exempt from public haunt +Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, +Sermons in stones and good in every thing. +I would not change it. + +AMIENS +Happy is your grace, +That can translate the stubbornness of fortune +Into so quiet and so sweet a style. + +DUKE SENIOR +Come, shall we go and kill us venison? +And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools, +Being native burghers of this desert city, +Should in their own confines with forked heads +Have their round haunches gored. + +First Lord +Indeed, my lord, +The melancholy Jaques grieves at that, +And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp +Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you. +To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself +Did steal behind him as he lay along +Under an oak whose antique root peeps out +Upon the brook that brawls along this wood: +To the which place a poor sequester'd stag, +That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt, +Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord, +The wretched animal heaved forth such groans +That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat +Almost to bursting, and the big round tears +Coursed one another down his innocent nose +In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool +Much marked of the melancholy Jaques, +Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook, +Augmenting it with tears. + +DUKE SENIOR +But what said Jaques? +Did he not moralize this spectacle? + +First Lord +O, yes, into a thousand similes. +First, for his weeping into the needless stream; +'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament +As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more +To that which had too much:' then, being there alone, +Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends, +''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part +The flux of company:' anon a careless herd, +Full of the pasture, jumps along by him +And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques, +'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens; +'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look +Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?' +Thus most invectively he pierceth through +The body of the country, city, court, +Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we +Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse, +To fright the animals and to kill them up +In their assign'd and native dwelling-place. + +DUKE SENIOR +And did you leave him in this contemplation? + +Second Lord +We did, my lord, weeping and commenting +Upon the sobbing deer. + +DUKE SENIOR +Show me the place: +I love to cope him in these sullen fits, +For then he's full of matter. + +First Lord +I'll bring you to him straight. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords +DUKE FREDERICK +Can it be possible that no man saw them? +It cannot be: some villains of my court +Are of consent and sufferance in this. + +First Lord +I cannot hear of any that did see her. +The ladies, her attendants of her chamber, +Saw her abed, and in the morning early +They found the bed untreasured of their mistress. + +Second Lord +My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft +Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing. +Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman, +Confesses that she secretly o'erheard +Your daughter and her cousin much commend +The parts and graces of the wrestler +That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles; +And she believes, wherever they are gone, +That youth is surely in their company. + +DUKE FREDERICK +Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither; +If he be absent, bring his brother to me; +I'll make him find him: do this suddenly, +And let not search and inquisition quail +To bring again these foolish runaways. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Before OLIVER'S house. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM, meeting +ORLANDO +Who's there? + +ADAM +What, my young master? O, my gentle master! +O my sweet master! O you memory +Of old Sir Rowland! why, what make you here? +Why are you virtuous? why do people love you? +And wherefore are you gentle, strong and valiant? +Why would you be so fond to overcome +The bonny priser of the humorous duke? +Your praise is come too swiftly home before you. +Know you not, master, to some kind of men +Their graces serve them but as enemies? +No more do yours: your virtues, gentle master, +Are sanctified and holy traitors to you. +O, what a world is this, when what is comely +Envenoms him that bears it! + +ORLANDO +Why, what's the matter? + +ADAM +O unhappy youth! +Come not within these doors; within this roof +The enemy of all your graces lives: +Your brother--no, no brother; yet the son-- +Yet not the son, I will not call him son +Of him I was about to call his father-- +Hath heard your praises, and this night he means +To burn the lodging where you use to lie +And you within it: if he fail of that, +He will have other means to cut you off. +I overheard him and his practises. +This is no place; this house is but a butchery: +Abhor it, fear it, do not enter it. + +ORLANDO +Why, whither, Adam, wouldst thou have me go? + +ADAM +No matter whither, so you come not here. + +ORLANDO +What, wouldst thou have me go and beg my food? +Or with a base and boisterous sword enforce +A thievish living on the common road? +This I must do, or know not what to do: +Yet this I will not do, do how I can; +I rather will subject me to the malice +Of a diverted blood and bloody brother. + +ADAM +But do not so. I have five hundred crowns, +The thrifty hire I saved under your father, +Which I did store to be my foster-nurse +When service should in my old limbs lie lame +And unregarded age in corners thrown: +Take that, and He that doth the ravens feed, +Yea, providently caters for the sparrow, +Be comfort to my age! Here is the gold; +And all this I give you. Let me be your servant: +Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty; +For in my youth I never did apply +Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, +Nor did not with unbashful forehead woo +The means of weakness and debility; +Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, +Frosty, but kindly: let me go with you; +I'll do the service of a younger man +In all your business and necessities. + +ORLANDO +O good old man, how well in thee appears +The constant service of the antique world, +When service sweat for duty, not for meed! +Thou art not for the fashion of these times, +Where none will sweat but for promotion, +And having that, do choke their service up +Even with the having: it is not so with thee. +But, poor old man, thou prunest a rotten tree, +That cannot so much as a blossom yield +In lieu of all thy pains and husbandry +But come thy ways; well go along together, +And ere we have thy youthful wages spent, +We'll light upon some settled low content. + +ADAM +Master, go on, and I will follow thee, +To the last gasp, with truth and loyalty. +From seventeen years till now almost fourscore +Here lived I, but now live here no more. +At seventeen years many their fortunes seek; +But at fourscore it is too late a week: +Yet fortune cannot recompense me better +Than to die well and not my master's debtor. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Forest of Arden. + +Enter ROSALIND for Ganymede, CELIA for Aliena, and TOUCHSTONE +ROSALIND +O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits! + +TOUCHSTONE +I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary. + +ROSALIND +I could find in my heart to disgrace my man's +apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort +the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show +itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage, +good Aliena! + +CELIA +I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further. + +TOUCHSTONE +For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear +you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, +for I think you have no money in your purse. + +ROSALIND +Well, this is the forest of Arden. + +TOUCHSTONE +Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was +at home, I was in a better place: but travellers +must be content. + +ROSALIND +Ay, be so, good Touchstone. + +Enter CORIN and SILVIUS + +Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in +solemn talk. + +CORIN +That is the way to make her scorn you still. + +SILVIUS +O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her! + +CORIN +I partly guess; for I have loved ere now. + +SILVIUS +No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, +Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover +As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow: +But if thy love were ever like to mine-- +As sure I think did never man love so-- +How many actions most ridiculous +Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy? + +CORIN +Into a thousand that I have forgotten. + +SILVIUS +O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily! +If thou remember'st not the slightest folly +That ever love did make thee run into, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, +Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise, +Thou hast not loved: +Or if thou hast not broke from company +Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, +Thou hast not loved. +O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe! + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, +I have by hard adventure found mine own. + +TOUCHSTONE +And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke +my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for +coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the +kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her +pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the +wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took +two cods and, giving her them again, said with +weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are +true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is +mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly. + +ROSALIND +Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of. + +TOUCHSTONE +Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I +break my shins against it. + +ROSALIND +Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion +Is much upon my fashion. + +TOUCHSTONE +And mine; but it grows something stale with me. + +CELIA +I pray you, one of you question yond man +If he for gold will give us any food: +I faint almost to death. + +TOUCHSTONE +Holla, you clown! + +ROSALIND +Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman. + +CORIN +Who calls? + +TOUCHSTONE +Your betters, sir. + +CORIN +Else are they very wretched. + +ROSALIND +Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend. + +CORIN +And to you, gentle sir, and to you all. + +ROSALIND +I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold +Can in this desert place buy entertainment, +Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: +Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd +And faints for succor. + +CORIN +Fair sir, I pity her +And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, +My fortunes were more able to relieve her; +But I am shepherd to another man +And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: +My master is of churlish disposition +And little recks to find the way to heaven +By doing deeds of hospitality: +Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed +Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, +By reason of his absence, there is nothing +That you will feed on; but what is, come see. +And in my voice most welcome shall you be. + +ROSALIND +What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture? + +CORIN +That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, +That little cares for buying any thing. + +ROSALIND +I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, +Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, +And thou shalt have to pay for it of us. + +CELIA +And we will mend thy wages. I like this place. +And willingly could waste my time in it. + +CORIN +Assuredly the thing is to be sold: +Go with me: if you like upon report +The soil, the profit and this kind of life, +I will your very faithful feeder be +And buy it with your gold right suddenly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The Forest. + +Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others +SONG. + +AMIENS +Under the greenwood tree +Who loves to lie with me, +And turn his merry note +Unto the sweet bird's throat, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +More, more, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck +melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs. +More, I prithee, more. + +AMIENS +My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you. + +JAQUES +I do not desire you to please me; I do desire you to +sing. Come, more; another stanzo: call you 'em stanzos? + +AMIENS +What you will, Monsieur Jaques. + +JAQUES +Nay, I care not for their names; they owe me +nothing. Will you sing? + +AMIENS +More at your request than to please myself. + +JAQUES +Well then, if ever I thank any man, I'll thank you; +but that they call compliment is like the encounter +of two dog-apes, and when a man thanks me heartily, +methinks I have given him a penny and he renders me +the beggarly thanks. Come, sing; and you that will +not, hold your tongues. + +AMIENS +Well, I'll end the song. Sirs, cover the while; the +duke will drink under this tree. He hath been all +this day to look you. + +JAQUES +And I have been all this day to avoid him. He is +too disputable for my company: I think of as many +matters as he, but I give heaven thanks and make no +boast of them. Come, warble, come. +SONG. +Who doth ambition shun + +All together here + +And loves to live i' the sun, +Seeking the food he eats +And pleased with what he gets, +Come hither, come hither, come hither: +Here shall he see No enemy +But winter and rough weather. + +JAQUES +I'll give you a verse to this note that I made +yesterday in despite of my invention. + +AMIENS +And I'll sing it. + +JAQUES +Thus it goes:-- +If it do come to pass +That any man turn ass, +Leaving his wealth and ease, +A stubborn will to please, +Ducdame, ducdame, ducdame: +Here shall he see +Gross fools as he, +An if he will come to me. + +AMIENS +What's that 'ducdame'? + +JAQUES +'Tis a Greek invocation, to call fools into a +circle. I'll go sleep, if I can; if I cannot, I'll +rail against all the first-born of Egypt. + +AMIENS +And I'll go seek the duke: his banquet is prepared. + +Exeunt severally + +SCENE VI. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and ADAM +ADAM +Dear master, I can go no further. O, I die for food! +Here lie I down, and measure out my grave. Farewell, +kind master. + +ORLANDO +Why, how now, Adam! no greater heart in thee? Live +a little; comfort a little; cheer thyself a little. +If this uncouth forest yield any thing savage, I +will either be food for it or bring it for food to +thee. Thy conceit is nearer death than thy powers. +For my sake be comfortable; hold death awhile at +the arm's end: I will here be with thee presently; +and if I bring thee not something to eat, I will +give thee leave to die: but if thou diest before I +come, thou art a mocker of my labour. Well said! +thou lookest cheerly, and I'll be with thee quickly. +Yet thou liest in the bleak air: come, I will bear +thee to some shelter; and thou shalt not die for +lack of a dinner, if there live any thing in this +desert. Cheerly, good Adam! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The forest. + +A table set out. Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, and Lords like outlaws +DUKE SENIOR +I think he be transform'd into a beast; +For I can no where find him like a man. + +First Lord +My lord, he is but even now gone hence: +Here was he merry, hearing of a song. + +DUKE SENIOR +If he, compact of jars, grow musical, +We shall have shortly discord in the spheres. +Go, seek him: tell him I would speak with him. + +Enter JAQUES + +First Lord +He saves my labour by his own approach. + +DUKE SENIOR +Why, how now, monsieur! what a life is this, +That your poor friends must woo your company? +What, you look merrily! + +JAQUES +A fool, a fool! I met a fool i' the forest, +A motley fool; a miserable world! +As I do live by food, I met a fool +Who laid him down and bask'd him in the sun, +And rail'd on Lady Fortune in good terms, +In good set terms and yet a motley fool. +'Good morrow, fool,' quoth I. 'No, sir,' quoth he, +'Call me not fool till heaven hath sent me fortune:' +And then he drew a dial from his poke, +And, looking on it with lack-lustre eye, +Says very wisely, 'It is ten o'clock: +Thus we may see,' quoth he, 'how the world wags: +'Tis but an hour ago since it was nine, +And after one hour more 'twill be eleven; +And so, from hour to hour, we ripe and ripe, +And then, from hour to hour, we rot and rot; +And thereby hangs a tale.' When I did hear +The motley fool thus moral on the time, +My lungs began to crow like chanticleer, +That fools should be so deep-contemplative, +And I did laugh sans intermission +An hour by his dial. O noble fool! +A worthy fool! Motley's the only wear. + +DUKE SENIOR +What fool is this? + +JAQUES +O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier, +And says, if ladies be but young and fair, +They have the gift to know it: and in his brain, +Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit +After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd +With observation, the which he vents +In mangled forms. O that I were a fool! +I am ambitious for a motley coat. + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou shalt have one. + +JAQUES +It is my only suit; +Provided that you weed your better judgments +Of all opinion that grows rank in them +That I am wise. I must have liberty +Withal, as large a charter as the wind, +To blow on whom I please; for so fools have; +And they that are most galled with my folly, +They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so? +The 'why' is plain as way to parish church: +He that a fool doth very wisely hit +Doth very foolishly, although he smart, +Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not, +The wise man's folly is anatomized +Even by the squandering glances of the fool. +Invest me in my motley; give me leave +To speak my mind, and I will through and through +Cleanse the foul body of the infected world, +If they will patiently receive my medicine. + +DUKE SENIOR +Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do. + +JAQUES +What, for a counter, would I do but good? + +DUKE SENIOR +Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin: +For thou thyself hast been a libertine, +As sensual as the brutish sting itself; +And all the embossed sores and headed evils, +That thou with licence of free foot hast caught, +Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world. + +JAQUES +Why, who cries out on pride, +That can therein tax any private party? +Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea, +Till that the weary very means do ebb? +What woman in the city do I name, +When that I say the city-woman bears +The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders? +Who can come in and say that I mean her, +When such a one as she such is her neighbour? +Or what is he of basest function +That says his bravery is not of my cost, +Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits +His folly to the mettle of my speech? +There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein +My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right, +Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free, +Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies, +Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here? + +Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn + +ORLANDO +Forbear, and eat no more. + +JAQUES +Why, I have eat none yet. + +ORLANDO +Nor shalt not, till necessity be served. + +JAQUES +Of what kind should this cock come of? + +DUKE SENIOR +Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress, +Or else a rude despiser of good manners, +That in civility thou seem'st so empty? + +ORLANDO +You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point +Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show +Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred +And know some nurture. But forbear, I say: +He dies that touches any of this fruit +Till I and my affairs are answered. + +JAQUES +An you will not be answered with reason, I must die. + +DUKE SENIOR +What would you have? Your gentleness shall force +More than your force move us to gentleness. + +ORLANDO +I almost die for food; and let me have it. + +DUKE SENIOR +Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table. + +ORLANDO +Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you: +I thought that all things had been savage here; +And therefore put I on the countenance +Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are +That in this desert inaccessible, +Under the shade of melancholy boughs, +Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time +If ever you have look'd on better days, +If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church, +If ever sat at any good man's feast, +If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear +And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied, +Let gentleness my strong enforcement be: +In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword. + +DUKE SENIOR +True is it that we have seen better days, +And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church +And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes +Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd: +And therefore sit you down in gentleness +And take upon command what help we have +That to your wanting may be minister'd. + +ORLANDO +Then but forbear your food a little while, +Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn +And give it food. There is an old poor man, +Who after me hath many a weary step +Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed, +Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger, +I will not touch a bit. + +DUKE SENIOR +Go find him out, +And we will nothing waste till you return. + +ORLANDO +I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort! + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy: +This wide and universal theatre +Presents more woeful pageants than the scene +Wherein we play in. + +JAQUES +All the world's a stage, +And all the men and women merely players: +They have their exits and their entrances; +And one man in his time plays many parts, +His acts being seven ages. At first the infant, +Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. +And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel +And shining morning face, creeping like snail +Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, +Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad +Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, +Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, +Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, +Seeking the bubble reputation +Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, +In fair round belly with good capon lined, +With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, +Full of wise saws and modern instances; +And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts +Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon, +With spectacles on nose and pouch on side, +His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide +For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice, +Turning again toward childish treble, pipes +And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, +That ends this strange eventful history, +Is second childishness and mere oblivion, +Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything. + +Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen, +And let him feed. + +ORLANDO +I thank you most for him. + +ADAM +So had you need: +I scarce can speak to thank you for myself. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you +As yet, to question you about your fortunes. +Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing. +SONG. + +AMIENS +Blow, blow, thou winter wind. +Thou art not so unkind +As man's ingratitude; +Thy tooth is not so keen, +Because thou art not seen, +Although thy breath be rude. +Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly: +Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: +Then, heigh-ho, the holly! +This life is most jolly. +Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, +That dost not bite so nigh +As benefits forgot: +Though thou the waters warp, +Thy sting is not so sharp +As friend remember'd not. +Heigh-ho! sing, & c. + +DUKE SENIOR +If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son, +As you have whisper'd faithfully you were, +And as mine eye doth his effigies witness +Most truly limn'd and living in your face, +Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke +That loved your father: the residue of your fortune, +Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man, +Thou art right welcome as thy master is. +Support him by the arm. Give me your hand, +And let me all your fortunes understand. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in the palace. + +Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER +DUKE FREDERICK +Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be: +But were I not the better part made mercy, +I should not seek an absent argument +Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it: +Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is; +Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living +Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more +To seek a living in our territory. +Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine +Worth seizure do we seize into our hands, +Till thou canst quit thee by thy brothers mouth +Of what we think against thee. + +OLIVER +O that your highness knew my heart in this! +I never loved my brother in my life. + +DUKE FREDERICK +More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors; +And let my officers of such a nature +Make an extent upon his house and lands: +Do this expediently and turn him going. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO, with a paper +ORLANDO +Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love: +And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey +With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above, +Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway. +O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books +And in their barks my thoughts I'll character; +That every eye which in this forest looks +Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where. +Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree +The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CORIN +And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone? + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good +life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life, +it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I +like it very well; but in respect that it is +private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it +is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in +respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As +is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well; +but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much +against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd? + +CORIN +No more but that I know the more one sickens the +worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money, +means and content is without three good friends; +that the property of rain is to wet and fire to +burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a +great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that +he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may +complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred. + +TOUCHSTONE +Such a one is a natural philosopher. Wast ever in +court, shepherd? + +CORIN +No, truly. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then thou art damned. + +CORIN +Nay, I hope. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, thou art damned like an ill-roasted egg, all +on one side. + +CORIN +For not being at court? Your reason. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, if thou never wast at court, thou never sawest +good manners; if thou never sawest good manners, +then thy manners must be wicked; and wickedness is +sin, and sin is damnation. Thou art in a parlous +state, shepherd. + +CORIN +Not a whit, Touchstone: those that are good manners +at the court are as ridiculous in the country as the +behavior of the country is most mockable at the +court. You told me you salute not at the court, but +you kiss your hands: that courtesy would be +uncleanly, if courtiers were shepherds. + +TOUCHSTONE +Instance, briefly; come, instance. + +CORIN +Why, we are still handling our ewes, and their +fells, you know, are greasy. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, do not your courtier's hands sweat? and is not +the grease of a mutton as wholesome as the sweat of +a man? Shallow, shallow. A better instance, I say; come. + +CORIN +Besides, our hands are hard. + +TOUCHSTONE +Your lips will feel them the sooner. Shallow again. +A more sounder instance, come. + +CORIN +And they are often tarred over with the surgery of +our sheep: and would you have us kiss tar? The +courtier's hands are perfumed with civet. + +TOUCHSTONE +Most shallow man! thou worms-meat, in respect of a +good piece of flesh indeed! Learn of the wise, and +perpend: civet is of a baser birth than tar, the +very uncleanly flux of a cat. Mend the instance, shepherd. + +CORIN +You have too courtly a wit for me: I'll rest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Wilt thou rest damned? God help thee, shallow man! +God make incision in thee! thou art raw. + +CORIN +Sir, I am a true labourer: I earn that I eat, get +that I wear, owe no man hate, envy no man's +happiness, glad of other men's good, content with my +harm, and the greatest of my pride is to see my ewes +graze and my lambs suck. + +TOUCHSTONE +That is another simple sin in you, to bring the ewes +and the rams together and to offer to get your +living by the copulation of cattle; to be bawd to a +bell-wether, and to betray a she-lamb of a +twelvemonth to a crooked-pated, old, cuckoldly ram, +out of all reasonable match. If thou beest not +damned for this, the devil himself will have no +shepherds; I cannot see else how thou shouldst +'scape. + +CORIN +Here comes young Master Ganymede, my new mistress's brother. + +Enter ROSALIND, with a paper, reading + +ROSALIND +From the east to western Ind, +No jewel is like Rosalind. +Her worth, being mounted on the wind, +Through all the world bears Rosalind. +All the pictures fairest lined +Are but black to Rosalind. +Let no fair be kept in mind +But the fair of Rosalind. + +TOUCHSTONE +I'll rhyme you so eight years together, dinners and +suppers and sleeping-hours excepted: it is the +right butter-women's rank to market. + +ROSALIND +Out, fool! + +TOUCHSTONE +For a taste: +If a hart do lack a hind, +Let him seek out Rosalind. +If the cat will after kind, +So be sure will Rosalind. +Winter garments must be lined, +So must slender Rosalind. +They that reap must sheaf and bind; +Then to cart with Rosalind. +Sweetest nut hath sourest rind, +Such a nut is Rosalind. +He that sweetest rose will find +Must find love's prick and Rosalind. +This is the very false gallop of verses: why do you +infect yourself with them? + +ROSALIND +Peace, you dull fool! I found them on a tree. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, the tree yields bad fruit. + +ROSALIND +I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it +with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit +i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half +ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar. + +TOUCHSTONE +You have said; but whether wisely or no, let the +forest judge. + +Enter CELIA, with a writing + +ROSALIND +Peace! Here comes my sister, reading: stand aside. + +CELIA +[Reads] +Why should this a desert be? +For it is unpeopled? No: +Tongues I'll hang on every tree, +That shall civil sayings show: +Some, how brief the life of man +Runs his erring pilgrimage, +That the stretching of a span +Buckles in his sum of age; +Some, of violated vows +'Twixt the souls of friend and friend: +But upon the fairest boughs, +Or at every sentence end, +Will I Rosalinda write, +Teaching all that read to know +The quintessence of every sprite +Heaven would in little show. +Therefore Heaven Nature charged +That one body should be fill'd +With all graces wide-enlarged: +Nature presently distill'd +Helen's cheek, but not her heart, +Cleopatra's majesty, +Atalanta's better part, +Sad Lucretia's modesty. +Thus Rosalind of many parts +By heavenly synod was devised, +Of many faces, eyes and hearts, +To have the touches dearest prized. +Heaven would that she these gifts should have, +And I to live and die her slave. + +ROSALIND +O most gentle pulpiter! what tedious homily of love +have you wearied your parishioners withal, and never +cried 'Have patience, good people!' + +CELIA +How now! back, friends! Shepherd, go off a little. +Go with him, sirrah. + +TOUCHSTONE +Come, shepherd, let us make an honourable retreat; +though not with bag and baggage, yet with scrip and scrippage. + +Exeunt CORIN and TOUCHSTONE + +CELIA +Didst thou hear these verses? + +ROSALIND +O, yes, I heard them all, and more too; for some of +them had in them more feet than the verses would bear. + +CELIA +That's no matter: the feet might bear the verses. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but the feet were lame and could not bear +themselves without the verse and therefore stood +lamely in the verse. + +CELIA +But didst thou hear without wondering how thy name +should be hanged and carved upon these trees? + +ROSALIND +I was seven of the nine days out of the wonder +before you came; for look here what I found on a +palm-tree. I was never so be-rhymed since +Pythagoras' time, that I was an Irish rat, which I +can hardly remember. + +CELIA +Trow you who hath done this? + +ROSALIND +Is it a man? + +CELIA +And a chain, that you once wore, about his neck. +Change you colour? + +ROSALIND +I prithee, who? + +CELIA +O Lord, Lord! it is a hard matter for friends to +meet; but mountains may be removed with earthquakes +and so encounter. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but who is it? + +CELIA +Is it possible? + +ROSALIND +Nay, I prithee now with most petitionary vehemence, +tell me who it is. + +CELIA +O wonderful, wonderful, and most wonderful +wonderful! and yet again wonderful, and after that, +out of all hooping! + +ROSALIND +Good my complexion! dost thou think, though I am +caparisoned like a man, I have a doublet and hose in +my disposition? One inch of delay more is a +South-sea of discovery; I prithee, tell me who is it +quickly, and speak apace. I would thou couldst +stammer, that thou mightst pour this concealed man +out of thy mouth, as wine comes out of a narrow- +mouthed bottle, either too much at once, or none at +all. I prithee, take the cork out of thy mouth that +may drink thy tidings. + +CELIA +So you may put a man in your belly. + +ROSALIND +Is he of God's making? What manner of man? Is his +head worth a hat, or his chin worth a beard? + +CELIA +Nay, he hath but a little beard. + +ROSALIND +Why, God will send more, if the man will be +thankful: let me stay the growth of his beard, if +thou delay me not the knowledge of his chin. + +CELIA +It is young Orlando, that tripped up the wrestler's +heels and your heart both in an instant. + +ROSALIND +Nay, but the devil take mocking: speak, sad brow and +true maid. + +CELIA +I' faith, coz, 'tis he. + +ROSALIND +Orlando? + +CELIA +Orlando. + +ROSALIND +Alas the day! what shall I do with my doublet and +hose? What did he when thou sawest him? What said +he? How looked he? Wherein went he? What makes +him here? Did he ask for me? Where remains he? +How parted he with thee? and when shalt thou see +him again? Answer me in one word. + +CELIA +You must borrow me Gargantua's mouth first: 'tis a +word too great for any mouth of this age's size. To +say ay and no to these particulars is more than to +answer in a catechism. + +ROSALIND +But doth he know that I am in this forest and in +man's apparel? Looks he as freshly as he did the +day he wrestled? + +CELIA +It is as easy to count atomies as to resolve the +propositions of a lover; but take a taste of my +finding him, and relish it with good observance. +I found him under a tree, like a dropped acorn. + +ROSALIND +It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops +forth such fruit. + +CELIA +Give me audience, good madam. + +ROSALIND +Proceed. + +CELIA +There lay he, stretched along, like a wounded knight. + +ROSALIND +Though it be pity to see such a sight, it well +becomes the ground. + +CELIA +Cry 'holla' to thy tongue, I prithee; it curvets +unseasonably. He was furnished like a hunter. + +ROSALIND +O, ominous! he comes to kill my heart. + +CELIA +I would sing my song without a burden: thou bringest +me out of tune. + +ROSALIND +Do you not know I am a woman? when I think, I must +speak. Sweet, say on. + +CELIA +You bring me out. Soft! comes he not here? + +Enter ORLANDO and JAQUES + +ROSALIND +'Tis he: slink by, and note him. + +JAQUES +I thank you for your company; but, good faith, I had +as lief have been myself alone. + +ORLANDO +And so had I; but yet, for fashion sake, I thank you +too for your society. + +JAQUES +God be wi' you: let's meet as little as we can. + +ORLANDO +I do desire we may be better strangers. + +JAQUES +I pray you, mar no more trees with writing +love-songs in their barks. + +ORLANDO +I pray you, mar no more of my verses with reading +them ill-favouredly. + +JAQUES +Rosalind is your love's name? + +ORLANDO +Yes, just. + +JAQUES +I do not like her name. + +ORLANDO +There was no thought of pleasing you when she was +christened. + +JAQUES +What stature is she of? + +ORLANDO +Just as high as my heart. + +JAQUES +You are full of pretty answers. Have you not been +acquainted with goldsmiths' wives, and conned them +out of rings? + +ORLANDO +Not so; but I answer you right painted cloth, from +whence you have studied your questions. + +JAQUES +You have a nimble wit: I think 'twas made of +Atalanta's heels. Will you sit down with me? and +we two will rail against our mistress the world and +all our misery. + +ORLANDO +I will chide no breather in the world but myself, +against whom I know most faults. + +JAQUES +The worst fault you have is to be in love. + +ORLANDO +'Tis a fault I will not change for your best virtue. +I am weary of you. + +JAQUES +By my troth, I was seeking for a fool when I found +you. + +ORLANDO +He is drowned in the brook: look but in, and you +shall see him. + +JAQUES +There I shall see mine own figure. + +ORLANDO +Which I take to be either a fool or a cipher. + +JAQUES +I'll tarry no longer with you: farewell, good +Signior Love. + +ORLANDO +I am glad of your departure: adieu, good Monsieur +Melancholy. + +Exit JAQUES + +ROSALIND +[Aside to CELIA] I will speak to him, like a saucy +lackey and under that habit play the knave with him. +Do you hear, forester? + +ORLANDO +Very well: what would you? + +ROSALIND +I pray you, what is't o'clock? + +ORLANDO +You should ask me what time o' day: there's no clock +in the forest. + +ROSALIND +Then there is no true lover in the forest; else +sighing every minute and groaning every hour would +detect the lazy foot of Time as well as a clock. + +ORLANDO +And why not the swift foot of Time? had not that +been as proper? + +ROSALIND +By no means, sir: Time travels in divers paces with +divers persons. I'll tell you who Time ambles +withal, who Time trots withal, who Time gallops +withal and who he stands still withal. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, who doth he trot withal? + +ROSALIND +Marry, he trots hard with a young maid between the +contract of her marriage and the day it is +solemnized: if the interim be but a se'nnight, +Time's pace is so hard that it seems the length of +seven year. + +ORLANDO +Who ambles Time withal? + +ROSALIND +With a priest that lacks Latin and a rich man that +hath not the gout, for the one sleeps easily because +he cannot study, and the other lives merrily because +he feels no pain, the one lacking the burden of lean +and wasteful learning, the other knowing no burden +of heavy tedious penury; these Time ambles withal. + +ORLANDO +Who doth he gallop withal? + +ROSALIND +With a thief to the gallows, for though he go as +softly as foot can fall, he thinks himself too soon there. + +ORLANDO +Who stays it still withal? + +ROSALIND +With lawyers in the vacation, for they sleep between +term and term and then they perceive not how Time moves. + +ORLANDO +Where dwell you, pretty youth? + +ROSALIND +With this shepherdess, my sister; here in the +skirts of the forest, like fringe upon a petticoat. + +ORLANDO +Are you native of this place? + +ROSALIND +As the cony that you see dwell where she is kindled. + +ORLANDO +Your accent is something finer than you could +purchase in so removed a dwelling. + +ROSALIND +I have been told so of many: but indeed an old +religious uncle of mine taught me to speak, who was +in his youth an inland man; one that knew courtship +too well, for there he fell in love. I have heard +him read many lectures against it, and I thank God +I am not a woman, to be touched with so many +giddy offences as he hath generally taxed their +whole sex withal. + +ORLANDO +Can you remember any of the principal evils that he +laid to the charge of women? + +ROSALIND +There were none principal; they were all like one +another as half-pence are, every one fault seeming +monstrous till his fellow fault came to match it. + +ORLANDO +I prithee, recount some of them. + +ROSALIND +No, I will not cast away my physic but on those that +are sick. There is a man haunts the forest, that +abuses our young plants with carving 'Rosalind' on +their barks; hangs odes upon hawthorns and elegies +on brambles, all, forsooth, deifying the name of +Rosalind: if I could meet that fancy-monger I would +give him some good counsel, for he seems to have the +quotidian of love upon him. + +ORLANDO +I am he that is so love-shaked: I pray you tell me +your remedy. + +ROSALIND +There is none of my uncle's marks upon you: he +taught me how to know a man in love; in which cage +of rushes I am sure you are not prisoner. + +ORLANDO +What were his marks? + +ROSALIND +A lean cheek, which you have not, a blue eye and +sunken, which you have not, an unquestionable +spirit, which you have not, a beard neglected, +which you have not; but I pardon you for that, for +simply your having in beard is a younger brother's +revenue: then your hose should be ungartered, your +bonnet unbanded, your sleeve unbuttoned, your shoe +untied and every thing about you demonstrating a +careless desolation; but you are no such man; you +are rather point-device in your accoutrements as +loving yourself than seeming the lover of any other. + +ORLANDO +Fair youth, I would I could make thee believe I love. + +ROSALIND +Me believe it! you may as soon make her that you +love believe it; which, I warrant, she is apter to +do than to confess she does: that is one of the +points in the which women still give the lie to +their consciences. But, in good sooth, are you he +that hangs the verses on the trees, wherein Rosalind +is so admired? + +ORLANDO +I swear to thee, youth, by the white hand of +Rosalind, I am that he, that unfortunate he. + +ROSALIND +But are you so much in love as your rhymes speak? + +ORLANDO +Neither rhyme nor reason can express how much. + +ROSALIND +Love is merely a madness, and, I tell you, deserves +as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do: and +the reason why they are not so punished and cured +is, that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers +are in love too. Yet I profess curing it by counsel. + +ORLANDO +Did you ever cure any so? + +ROSALIND +Yes, one, and in this manner. He was to imagine me +his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to +woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish +youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing +and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow, +inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every +passion something and for no passion truly any +thing, as boys and women are for the most part +cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe +him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep +for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor +from his mad humour of love to a living humour of +madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of +the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic. +And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon +me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's +heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't. + +ORLANDO +I would not be cured, youth. + +ROSALIND +I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind +and come every day to my cote and woo me. + +ORLANDO +Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me +where it is. + +ROSALIND +Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way +you shall tell me where in the forest you live. +Will you go? + +ORLANDO +With all my heart, good youth. + +ROSALIND +Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go? + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind +TOUCHSTONE +Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your +goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet? +doth my simple feature content you? + +AUDREY +Your features! Lord warrant us! what features! + +TOUCHSTONE +I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most +capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths. + +JAQUES +[Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove +in a thatched house! + +TOUCHSTONE +When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a +man's good wit seconded with the forward child +Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a +great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would +the gods had made thee poetical. + +AUDREY +I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in +deed and word? is it a true thing? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most +feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what +they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign. + +AUDREY +Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical? + +TOUCHSTONE +I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art +honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some +hope thou didst feign. + +AUDREY +Would you not have me honest? + +TOUCHSTONE +No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for +honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar. + +JAQUES +[Aside] A material fool! + +AUDREY +Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods +make me honest. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut +were to put good meat into an unclean dish. + +AUDREY +I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul. + +TOUCHSTONE +Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness! +sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may +be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been +with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next +village, who hath promised to meet me in this place +of the forest and to couple us. + +JAQUES +[Aside] I would fain see this meeting. + +AUDREY +Well, the gods give us joy! + +TOUCHSTONE +Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart, +stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple +but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what +though? C ourage! As horns are odious, they are +necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of +his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and +knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of +his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns? +Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer +hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man +therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more +worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a +married man more honourable than the bare brow of a +bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no +skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to +want. Here comes Sir Oliver. + +Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT + +Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you +dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go +with you to your chapel? + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Is there none here to give the woman? + +TOUCHSTONE +I will not take her on gift of any man. + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful. + +JAQUES +[Advancing] +Proceed, proceed I'll give her. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, good Master What-ye-call't: how do you, +sir? You are very well met: God 'ild you for your +last company: I am very glad to see you: even a +toy in hand here, sir: nay, pray be covered. + +JAQUES +Will you be married, motley? + +TOUCHSTONE +As the ox hath his bow, sir, the horse his curb and +the falcon her bells, so man hath his desires; and +as pigeons bill, so wedlock would be nibbling. + +JAQUES +And will you, being a man of your breeding, be +married under a bush like a beggar? Get you to +church, and have a good priest that can tell you +what marriage is: this fellow will but join you +together as they join wainscot; then one of you will +prove a shrunk panel and, like green timber, warp, warp. + +TOUCHSTONE +[Aside] I am not in the mind but I were better to be +married of him than of another: for he is not like +to marry me well; and not being well married, it +will be a good excuse for me hereafter to leave my wife. + +JAQUES +Go thou with me, and let me counsel thee. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Come, sweet Audrey: +We must be married, or we must live in bawdry. +Farewell, good Master Oliver: not,-- +O sweet Oliver, +O brave Oliver, +Leave me not behind thee: but,-- +Wind away, +Begone, I say, +I will not to wedding with thee. + +Exeunt JAQUES, TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +SIR OLIVER MARTEXT +'Tis no matter: ne'er a fantastical knave of them +all shall flout me out of my calling. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +Never talk to me; I will weep. + +CELIA +Do, I prithee; but yet have the grace to consider +that tears do not become a man. + +ROSALIND +But have I not cause to weep? + +CELIA +As good cause as one would desire; therefore weep. + +ROSALIND +His very hair is of the dissembling colour. + +CELIA +Something browner than Judas's marry, his kisses are +Judas's own children. + +ROSALIND +I' faith, his hair is of a good colour. + +CELIA +An excellent colour: your chestnut was ever the only colour. + +ROSALIND +And his kissing is as full of sanctity as the touch +of holy bread. + +CELIA +He hath bought a pair of cast lips of Diana: a nun +of winter's sisterhood kisses not more religiously; +the very ice of chastity is in them. + +ROSALIND +But why did he swear he would come this morning, and +comes not? + +CELIA +Nay, certainly, there is no truth in him. + +ROSALIND +Do you think so? + +CELIA +Yes; I think he is not a pick-purse nor a +horse-stealer, but for his verity in love, I do +think him as concave as a covered goblet or a +worm-eaten nut. + +ROSALIND +Not true in love? + +CELIA +Yes, when he is in; but I think he is not in. + +ROSALIND +You have heard him swear downright he was. + +CELIA +'Was' is not 'is:' besides, the oath of a lover is +no stronger than the word of a tapster; they are +both the confirmer of false reckonings. He attends +here in the forest on the duke your father. + +ROSALIND +I met the duke yesterday and had much question with +him: he asked me of what parentage I was; I told +him, of as good as he; so he laughed and let me go. +But what talk we of fathers, when there is such a +man as Orlando? + +CELIA +O, that's a brave man! he writes brave verses, +speaks brave words, swears brave oaths and breaks +them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of +his lover; as a puisny tilter, that spurs his horse +but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble +goose: but all's brave that youth mounts and folly +guides. Who comes here? + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Mistress and master, you have oft inquired +After the shepherd that complain'd of love, +Who you saw sitting by me on the turf, +Praising the proud disdainful shepherdess +That was his mistress. + +CELIA +Well, and what of him? + +CORIN +If you will see a pageant truly play'd, +Between the pale complexion of true love +And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain, +Go hence a little and I shall conduct you, +If you will mark it. + +ROSALIND +O, come, let us remove: +The sight of lovers feedeth those in love. +Bring us to this sight, and you shall say +I'll prove a busy actor in their play. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the forest. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, do not scorn me; do not, Phebe; +Say that you love me not, but say not so +In bitterness. The common executioner, +Whose heart the accustom'd sight of death makes hard, +Falls not the axe upon the humbled neck +But first begs pardon: will you sterner be +Than he that dies and lives by bloody drops? + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and CORIN, behind + +PHEBE +I would not be thy executioner: +I fly thee, for I would not injure thee. +Thou tell'st me there is murder in mine eye: +'Tis pretty, sure, and very probable, +That eyes, that are the frail'st and softest things, +Who shut their coward gates on atomies, +Should be call'd tyrants, butchers, murderers! +Now I do frown on thee with all my heart; +And if mine eyes can wound, now let them kill thee: +Now counterfeit to swoon; why now fall down; +Or if thou canst not, O, for shame, for shame, +Lie not, to say mine eyes are murderers! +Now show the wound mine eye hath made in thee: +Scratch thee but with a pin, and there remains +Some scar of it; lean but upon a rush, +The cicatrice and capable impressure +Thy palm some moment keeps; but now mine eyes, +Which I have darted at thee, hurt thee not, +Nor, I am sure, there is no force in eyes +That can do hurt. + +SILVIUS +O dear Phebe, +If ever,--as that ever may be near,-- +You meet in some fresh cheek the power of fancy, +Then shall you know the wounds invisible +That love's keen arrows make. + +PHEBE +But till that time +Come not thou near me: and when that time comes, +Afflict me with thy mocks, pity me not; +As till that time I shall not pity thee. + +ROSALIND +And why, I pray you? Who might be your mother, +That you insult, exult, and all at once, +Over the wretched? What though you have no beauty,-- +As, by my faith, I see no more in you +Than without candle may go dark to bed-- +Must you be therefore proud and pitiless? +Why, what means this? Why do you look on me? +I see no more in you than in the ordinary +Of nature's sale-work. 'Od's my little life, +I think she means to tangle my eyes too! +No, faith, proud mistress, hope not after it: +'Tis not your inky brows, your black silk hair, +Your bugle eyeballs, nor your cheek of cream, +That can entame my spirits to your worship. +You foolish shepherd, wherefore do you follow her, +Like foggy south puffing with wind and rain? +You are a thousand times a properer man +Than she a woman: 'tis such fools as you +That makes the world full of ill-favour'd children: +'Tis not her glass, but you, that flatters her; +And out of you she sees herself more proper +Than any of her lineaments can show her. +But, mistress, know yourself: down on your knees, +And thank heaven, fasting, for a good man's love: +For I must tell you friendly in your ear, +Sell when you can: you are not for all markets: +Cry the man mercy; love him; take his offer: +Foul is most foul, being foul to be a scoffer. +So take her to thee, shepherd: fare you well. + +PHEBE +Sweet youth, I pray you, chide a year together: +I had rather hear you chide than this man woo. + +ROSALIND +He's fallen in love with your foulness and she'll +fall in love with my anger. If it be so, as fast as +she answers thee with frowning looks, I'll sauce her +with bitter words. Why look you so upon me? + +PHEBE +For no ill will I bear you. + +ROSALIND +I pray you, do not fall in love with me, +For I am falser than vows made in wine: +Besides, I like you not. If you will know my house, +'Tis at the tuft of olives here hard by. +Will you go, sister? Shepherd, ply her hard. +Come, sister. Shepherdess, look on him better, +And be not proud: though all the world could see, +None could be so abused in sight as he. +Come, to our flock. + +Exeunt ROSALIND, CELIA and CORIN + +PHEBE +Dead Shepherd, now I find thy saw of might, +'Who ever loved that loved not at first sight?' + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe,-- + +PHEBE +Ha, what say'st thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Sweet Phebe, pity me. + +PHEBE +Why, I am sorry for thee, gentle Silvius. + +SILVIUS +Wherever sorrow is, relief would be: +If you do sorrow at my grief in love, +By giving love your sorrow and my grief +Were both extermined. + +PHEBE +Thou hast my love: is not that neighbourly? + +SILVIUS +I would have you. + +PHEBE +Why, that were covetousness. +Silvius, the time was that I hated thee, +And yet it is not that I bear thee love; +But since that thou canst talk of love so well, +Thy company, which erst was irksome to me, +I will endure, and I'll employ thee too: +But do not look for further recompense +Than thine own gladness that thou art employ'd. + +SILVIUS +So holy and so perfect is my love, +And I in such a poverty of grace, +That I shall think it a most plenteous crop +To glean the broken ears after the man +That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then +A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon. + +PHEBE +Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile? + +SILVIUS +Not very well, but I have met him oft; +And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds +That the old carlot once was master of. + +PHEBE +Think not I love him, though I ask for him: +'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well; +But what care I for words? yet words do well +When he that speaks them pleases those that hear. +It is a pretty youth: not very pretty: +But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him: +He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him +Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue +Did make offence his eye did heal it up. +He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall: +His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well: +There was a pretty redness in his lip, +A little riper and more lusty red +Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference +Between the constant red and mingled damask. +There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him +In parcels as I did, would have gone near +To fall in love with him; but, for my part, +I love him not nor hate him not; and yet +I have more cause to hate him than to love him: +For what had he to do to chide at me? +He said mine eyes were black and my hair black: +And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me: +I marvel why I answer'd not again: +But that's all one; omittance is no quittance. +I'll write to him a very taunting letter, +And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius? + +SILVIUS +Phebe, with all my heart. + +PHEBE +I'll write it straight; +The matter's in my head and in my heart: +I will be bitter with him and passing short. +Go with me, Silvius. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES +JAQUES +I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted +with thee. + +ROSALIND +They say you are a melancholy fellow. + +JAQUES +I am so; I do love it better than laughing. + +ROSALIND +Those that are in extremity of either are abominable +fellows and betray themselves to every modern +censure worse than drunkards. + +JAQUES +Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing. + +ROSALIND +Why then, 'tis good to be a post. + +JAQUES +I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is +emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical, +nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the +soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's, +which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor +the lover's, which is all these: but it is a +melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples, +extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's +contemplation of my travels, in which my often +rumination wraps me m a most humorous sadness. + +ROSALIND +A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to +be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see +other men's; then, to have seen much and to have +nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands. + +JAQUES +Yes, I have gained my experience. + +ROSALIND +And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have +a fool to make me merry than experience to make me +sad; and to travel for it too! + +Enter ORLANDO + +ORLANDO +Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind! + +JAQUES +Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and +wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your +own country, be out of love with your nativity and +almost chide God for making you that countenance you +are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a +gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been +all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such +another trick, never come in my sight more. + +ORLANDO +My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise. + +ROSALIND +Break an hour's promise in love! He that will +divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but +a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the +affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid +hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant +him heart-whole. + +ORLANDO +Pardon me, dear Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Nay, an you be so tardy, come no more in my sight: I +had as lief be wooed of a snail. + +ORLANDO +Of a snail? + +ROSALIND +Ay, of a snail; for though he comes slowly, he +carries his house on his head; a better jointure, +I think, than you make a woman: besides he brings +his destiny with him. + +ORLANDO +What's that? + +ROSALIND +Why, horns, which such as you are fain to be +beholding to your wives for: but he comes armed in +his fortune and prevents the slander of his wife. + +ORLANDO +Virtue is no horn-maker; and my Rosalind is virtuous. + +ROSALIND +And I am your Rosalind. + +CELIA +It pleases him to call you so; but he hath a +Rosalind of a better leer than you. + +ROSALIND +Come, woo me, woo me, for now I am in a holiday +humour and like enough to consent. What would you +say to me now, an I were your very very Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I would kiss before I spoke. + +ROSALIND +Nay, you were better speak first, and when you were +gravelled for lack of matter, you might take +occasion to kiss. Very good orators, when they are +out, they will spit; and for lovers lacking--God +warn us!--matter, the cleanliest shift is to kiss. + +ORLANDO +How if the kiss be denied? + +ROSALIND +Then she puts you to entreaty, and there begins new matter. + +ORLANDO +Who could be out, being before his beloved mistress? + +ROSALIND +Marry, that should you, if I were your mistress, or +I should think my honesty ranker than my wit. + +ORLANDO +What, of my suit? + +ROSALIND +Not out of your apparel, and yet out of your suit. +Am not I your Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I take some joy to say you are, because I would be +talking of her. + +ROSALIND +Well in her person I say I will not have you. + +ORLANDO +Then in mine own person I die. + +ROSALIND +No, faith, die by attorney. The poor world is +almost six thousand years old, and in all this time +there was not any man died in his own person, +videlicit, in a love-cause. Troilus had his brains +dashed out with a Grecian club; yet he did what he +could to die before, and he is one of the patterns +of love. Leander, he would have lived many a fair +year, though Hero had turned nun, if it had not been +for a hot midsummer night; for, good youth, he went +but forth to wash him in the Hellespont and being +taken with the cramp was drowned and the foolish +coroners of that age found it was 'Hero of Sestos.' +But these are all lies: men have died from time to +time and worms have eaten them, but not for love. + +ORLANDO +I would not have my right Rosalind of this mind, +for, I protest, her frown might kill me. + +ROSALIND +By this hand, it will not kill a fly. But come, now +I will be your Rosalind in a more coming-on +disposition, and ask me what you will. I will grant +it. + +ORLANDO +Then love me, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +Yes, faith, will I, Fridays and Saturdays and all. + +ORLANDO +And wilt thou have me? + +ROSALIND +Ay, and twenty such. + +ORLANDO +What sayest thou? + +ROSALIND +Are you not good? + +ORLANDO +I hope so. + +ROSALIND +Why then, can one desire too much of a good thing? +Come, sister, you shall be the priest and marry us. +Give me your hand, Orlando. What do you say, sister? + +ORLANDO +Pray thee, marry us. + +CELIA +I cannot say the words. + +ROSALIND +You must begin, 'Will you, Orlando--' + +CELIA +Go to. Will you, Orlando, have to wife this Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I will. + +ROSALIND +Ay, but when? + +ORLANDO +Why now; as fast as she can marry us. + +ROSALIND +Then you must say 'I take thee, Rosalind, for wife.' + +ORLANDO +I take thee, Rosalind, for wife. + +ROSALIND +I might ask you for your commission; but I do take +thee, Orlando, for my husband: there's a girl goes +before the priest; and certainly a woman's thought +runs before her actions. + +ORLANDO +So do all thoughts; they are winged. + +ROSALIND +Now tell me how long you would have her after you +have possessed her. + +ORLANDO +For ever and a day. + +ROSALIND +Say 'a day,' without the 'ever.' No, no, Orlando; +men are April when they woo, December when they wed: +maids are May when they are maids, but the sky +changes when they are wives. I will be more jealous +of thee than a Barbary cock-pigeon over his hen, +more clamorous than a parrot against rain, more +new-fangled than an ape, more giddy in my desires +than a monkey: I will weep for nothing, like Diana +in the fountain, and I will do that when you are +disposed to be merry; I will laugh like a hyen, and +that when thou art inclined to sleep. + +ORLANDO +But will my Rosalind do so? + +ROSALIND +By my life, she will do as I do. + +ORLANDO +O, but she is wise. + +ROSALIND +Or else she could not have the wit to do this: the +wiser, the waywarder: make the doors upon a woman's +wit and it will out at the casement; shut that and +'twill out at the key-hole; stop that, 'twill fly +with the smoke out at the chimney. + +ORLANDO +A man that had a wife with such a wit, he might say +'Wit, whither wilt?' + +ROSALIND +Nay, you might keep that cheque for it till you met +your wife's wit going to your neighbour's bed. + +ORLANDO +And what wit could wit have to excuse that? + +ROSALIND +Marry, to say she came to seek you there. You shall +never take her without her answer, unless you take +her without her tongue. O, that woman that cannot +make her fault her husband's occasion, let her +never nurse her child herself, for she will breed +it like a fool! + +ORLANDO +For these two hours, Rosalind, I will leave thee. + +ROSALIND +Alas! dear love, I cannot lack thee two hours. + +ORLANDO +I must attend the duke at dinner: by two o'clock I +will be with thee again. + +ROSALIND +Ay, go your ways, go your ways; I knew what you +would prove: my friends told me as much, and I +thought no less: that flattering tongue of yours +won me: 'tis but one cast away, and so, come, +death! Two o'clock is your hour? + +ORLANDO +Ay, sweet Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +By my troth, and in good earnest, and so God mend +me, and by all pretty oaths that are not dangerous, +if you break one jot of your promise or come one +minute behind your hour, I will think you the most +pathetical break-promise and the most hollow lover +and the most unworthy of her you call Rosalind that +may be chosen out of the gross band of the +unfaithful: therefore beware my censure and keep +your promise. + +ORLANDO +With no less religion than if thou wert indeed my +Rosalind: so adieu. + +ROSALIND +Well, Time is the old justice that examines all such +offenders, and let Time try: adieu. + +Exit ORLANDO + +CELIA +You have simply misused our sex in your love-prate: +we must have your doublet and hose plucked over your +head, and show the world what the bird hath done to +her own nest. + +ROSALIND +O coz, coz, coz, my pretty little coz, that thou +didst know how many fathom deep I am in love! But +it cannot be sounded: my affection hath an unknown +bottom, like the bay of Portugal. + +CELIA +Or rather, bottomless, that as fast as you pour +affection in, it runs out. + +ROSALIND +No, that same wicked bastard of Venus that was begot +of thought, conceived of spleen and born of madness, +that blind rascally boy that abuses every one's eyes +because his own are out, let him be judge how deep I +am in love. I'll tell thee, Aliena, I cannot be out +of the sight of Orlando: I'll go find a shadow and +sigh till he come. + +CELIA +And I'll sleep. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter JAQUES, Lords, and Foresters +JAQUES +Which is he that killed the deer? + +A Lord +Sir, it was I. + +JAQUES +Let's present him to the duke, like a Roman +conqueror; and it would do well to set the deer's +horns upon his head, for a branch of victory. Have +you no song, forester, for this purpose? + +Forester +Yes, sir. + +JAQUES +Sing it: 'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it +make noise enough. +SONG. + +Forester +What shall he have that kill'd the deer? +His leather skin and horns to wear. +Then sing him home; + +The rest shall bear this burden + +Take thou no scorn to wear the horn; +It was a crest ere thou wast born: +Thy father's father wore it, +And thy father bore it: +The horn, the horn, the lusty horn +Is not a thing to laugh to scorn. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter ROSALIND and CELIA +ROSALIND +How say you now? Is it not past two o'clock? and +here much Orlando! + +CELIA +I warrant you, with pure love and troubled brain, he +hath ta'en his bow and arrows and is gone forth to +sleep. Look, who comes here. + +Enter SILVIUS + +SILVIUS +My errand is to you, fair youth; +My gentle Phebe bid me give you this: +I know not the contents; but, as I guess +By the stern brow and waspish action +Which she did use as she was writing of it, +It bears an angry tenor: pardon me: +I am but as a guiltless messenger. + +ROSALIND +Patience herself would startle at this letter +And play the swaggerer; bear this, bear all: +She says I am not fair, that I lack manners; +She calls me proud, and that she could not love me, +Were man as rare as phoenix. 'Od's my will! +Her love is not the hare that I do hunt: +Why writes she so to me? Well, shepherd, well, +This is a letter of your own device. + +SILVIUS +No, I protest, I know not the contents: +Phebe did write it. + +ROSALIND +Come, come, you are a fool +And turn'd into the extremity of love. +I saw her hand: she has a leathern hand. +A freestone-colour'd hand; I verily did think +That her old gloves were on, but 'twas her hands: +She has a huswife's hand; but that's no matter: +I say she never did invent this letter; +This is a man's invention and his hand. + +SILVIUS +Sure, it is hers. + +ROSALIND +Why, 'tis a boisterous and a cruel style. +A style for-challengers; why, she defies me, +Like Turk to Christian: women's gentle brain +Could not drop forth such giant-rude invention +Such Ethiope words, blacker in their effect +Than in their countenance. Will you hear the letter? + +SILVIUS +So please you, for I never heard it yet; +Yet heard too much of Phebe's cruelty. + +ROSALIND +She Phebes me: mark how the tyrant writes. + +Reads + +Art thou god to shepherd turn'd, +That a maiden's heart hath burn'd? +Can a woman rail thus? + +SILVIUS +Call you this railing? + +ROSALIND +[Reads] +Why, thy godhead laid apart, +Warr'st thou with a woman's heart? +Did you ever hear such railing? +Whiles the eye of man did woo me, +That could do no vengeance to me. +Meaning me a beast. +If the scorn of your bright eyne +Have power to raise such love in mine, +Alack, in me what strange effect +Would they work in mild aspect! +Whiles you chid me, I did love; +How then might your prayers move! +He that brings this love to thee +Little knows this love in me: +And by him seal up thy mind; +Whether that thy youth and kind +Will the faithful offer take +Of me and all that I can make; +Or else by him my love deny, +And then I'll study how to die. + +SILVIUS +Call you this chiding? + +CELIA +Alas, poor shepherd! + +ROSALIND +Do you pity him? no, he deserves no pity. Wilt +thou love such a woman? What, to make thee an +instrument and play false strains upon thee! not to +be endured! Well, go your way to her, for I see +love hath made thee a tame snake, and say this to +her: that if she love me, I charge her to love +thee; if she will not, I will never have her unless +thou entreat for her. If you be a true lover, +hence, and not a word; for here comes more company. + +Exit SILVIUS + +Enter OLIVER + +OLIVER +Good morrow, fair ones: pray you, if you know, +Where in the purlieus of this forest stands +A sheep-cote fenced about with olive trees? + +CELIA +West of this place, down in the neighbour bottom: +The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream +Left on your right hand brings you to the place. +But at this hour the house doth keep itself; +There's none within. + +OLIVER +If that an eye may profit by a tongue, +Then should I know you by description; +Such garments and such years: 'The boy is fair, +Of female favour, and bestows himself +Like a ripe sister: the woman low +And browner than her brother.' Are not you +The owner of the house I did inquire for? + +CELIA +It is no boast, being ask'd, to say we are. + +OLIVER +Orlando doth commend him to you both, +And to that youth he calls his Rosalind +He sends this bloody napkin. Are you he? + +ROSALIND +I am: what must we understand by this? + +OLIVER +Some of my shame; if you will know of me +What man I am, and how, and why, and where +This handkercher was stain'd. + +CELIA +I pray you, tell it. + +OLIVER +When last the young Orlando parted from you +He left a promise to return again +Within an hour, and pacing through the forest, +Chewing the food of sweet and bitter fancy, +Lo, what befell! he threw his eye aside, +And mark what object did present itself: +Under an oak, whose boughs were moss'd with age +And high top bald with dry antiquity, +A wretched ragged man, o'ergrown with hair, +Lay sleeping on his back: about his neck +A green and gilded snake had wreathed itself, +Who with her head nimble in threats approach'd +The opening of his mouth; but suddenly, +Seeing Orlando, it unlink'd itself, +And with indented glides did slip away +Into a bush: under which bush's shade +A lioness, with udders all drawn dry, +Lay couching, head on ground, with catlike watch, +When that the sleeping man should stir; for 'tis +The royal disposition of that beast +To prey on nothing that doth seem as dead: +This seen, Orlando did approach the man +And found it was his brother, his elder brother. + +CELIA +O, I have heard him speak of that same brother; +And he did render him the most unnatural +That lived amongst men. + +OLIVER +And well he might so do, +For well I know he was unnatural. + +ROSALIND +But, to Orlando: did he leave him there, +Food to the suck'd and hungry lioness? + +OLIVER +Twice did he turn his back and purposed so; +But kindness, nobler ever than revenge, +And nature, stronger than his just occasion, +Made him give battle to the lioness, +Who quickly fell before him: in which hurtling +From miserable slumber I awaked. + +CELIA +Are you his brother? + +ROSALIND +Wast you he rescued? + +CELIA +Was't you that did so oft contrive to kill him? + +OLIVER +'Twas I; but 'tis not I I do not shame +To tell you what I was, since my conversion +So sweetly tastes, being the thing I am. + +ROSALIND +But, for the bloody napkin? + +OLIVER +By and by. +When from the first to last betwixt us two +Tears our recountments had most kindly bathed, +As how I came into that desert place:-- +In brief, he led me to the gentle duke, +Who gave me fresh array and entertainment, +Committing me unto my brother's love; +Who led me instantly unto his cave, +There stripp'd himself, and here upon his arm +The lioness had torn some flesh away, +Which all this while had bled; and now he fainted +And cried, in fainting, upon Rosalind. +Brief, I recover'd him, bound up his wound; +And, after some small space, being strong at heart, +He sent me hither, stranger as I am, +To tell this story, that you might excuse +His broken promise, and to give this napkin +Dyed in his blood unto the shepherd youth +That he in sport doth call his Rosalind. + +ROSALIND swoons + +CELIA +Why, how now, Ganymede! sweet Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Many will swoon when they do look on blood. + +CELIA +There is more in it. Cousin Ganymede! + +OLIVER +Look, he recovers. + +ROSALIND +I would I were at home. + +CELIA +We'll lead you thither. +I pray you, will you take him by the arm? + +OLIVER +Be of good cheer, youth: you a man! you lack a +man's heart. + +ROSALIND +I do so, I confess it. Ah, sirrah, a body would +think this was well counterfeited! I pray you, tell +your brother how well I counterfeited. Heigh-ho! + +OLIVER +This was not counterfeit: there is too great +testimony in your complexion that it was a passion +of earnest. + +ROSALIND +Counterfeit, I assure you. + +OLIVER +Well then, take a good heart and counterfeit to be a man. + +ROSALIND +So I do: but, i' faith, I should have been a woman by right. + +CELIA +Come, you look paler and paler: pray you, draw +homewards. Good sir, go with us. + +OLIVER +That will I, for I must bear answer back +How you excuse my brother, Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +I shall devise something: but, I pray you, commend +my counterfeiting to him. Will you go? + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +We shall find a time, Audrey; patience, gentle Audrey. + +AUDREY +Faith, the priest was good enough, for all the old +gentleman's saying. + +TOUCHSTONE +A most wicked Sir Oliver, Audrey, a most vile +Martext. But, Audrey, there is a youth here in the +forest lays claim to you. + +AUDREY +Ay, I know who 'tis; he hath no interest in me in +the world: here comes the man you mean. + +TOUCHSTONE +It is meat and drink to me to see a clown: by my +troth, we that have good wits have much to answer +for; we shall be flouting; we cannot hold. + +Enter WILLIAM + +WILLIAM +Good even, Audrey. + +AUDREY +God ye good even, William. + +WILLIAM +And good even to you, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Good even, gentle friend. Cover thy head, cover thy +head; nay, prithee, be covered. How old are you, friend? + +WILLIAM +Five and twenty, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A ripe age. Is thy name William? + +WILLIAM +William, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +A fair name. Wast born i' the forest here? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I thank God. + +TOUCHSTONE +'Thank God;' a good answer. Art rich? + +WILLIAM +Faith, sir, so so. + +TOUCHSTONE +'So so' is good, very good, very excellent good; and +yet it is not; it is but so so. Art thou wise? + +WILLIAM +Ay, sir, I have a pretty wit. + +TOUCHSTONE +Why, thou sayest well. I do now remember a saying, +'The fool doth think he is wise, but the wise man +knows himself to be a fool.' The heathen +philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a grape, +would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; +meaning thereby that grapes were made to eat and +lips to open. You do love this maid? + +WILLIAM +I do, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Give me your hand. Art thou learned? + +WILLIAM +No, sir. + +TOUCHSTONE +Then learn this of me: to have, is to have; for it +is a figure in rhetoric that drink, being poured out +of a cup into a glass, by filling the one doth empty +the other; for all your writers do consent that ipse +is he: now, you are not ipse, for I am he. + +WILLIAM +Which he, sir? + +TOUCHSTONE +He, sir, that must marry this woman. Therefore, you +clown, abandon,--which is in the vulgar leave,--the +society,--which in the boorish is company,--of this +female,--which in the common is woman; which +together is, abandon the society of this female, or, +clown, thou perishest; or, to thy better +understanding, diest; or, to wit I kill thee, make +thee away, translate thy life into death, thy +liberty into bondage: I will deal in poison with +thee, or in bastinado, or in steel; I will bandy +with thee in faction; I will o'errun thee with +policy; I will kill thee a hundred and fifty ways: +therefore tremble and depart. + +AUDREY +Do, good William. + +WILLIAM +God rest you merry, sir. + +Exit + +Enter CORIN + +CORIN +Our master and mistress seeks you; come, away, away! + +TOUCHSTONE +Trip, Audrey! trip, Audrey! I attend, I attend. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The forest. + +Enter ORLANDO and OLIVER +ORLANDO +Is't possible that on so little acquaintance you +should like her? that but seeing you should love +her? and loving woo? and, wooing, she should +grant? and will you persever to enjoy her? + +OLIVER +Neither call the giddiness of it in question, the +poverty of her, the small acquaintance, my sudden +wooing, nor her sudden consenting; but say with me, +I love Aliena; say with her that she loves me; +consent with both that we may enjoy each other: it +shall be to your good; for my father's house and all +the revenue that was old Sir Rowland's will I +estate upon you, and here live and die a shepherd. + +ORLANDO +You have my consent. Let your wedding be to-morrow: +thither will I invite the duke and all's contented +followers. Go you and prepare Aliena; for look +you, here comes my Rosalind. + +Enter ROSALIND + +ROSALIND +God save you, brother. + +OLIVER +And you, fair sister. + +Exit + +ROSALIND +O, my dear Orlando, how it grieves me to see thee +wear thy heart in a scarf! + +ORLANDO +It is my arm. + +ROSALIND +I thought thy heart had been wounded with the claws +of a lion. + +ORLANDO +Wounded it is, but with the eyes of a lady. + +ROSALIND +Did your brother tell you how I counterfeited to +swoon when he showed me your handkerchief? + +ORLANDO +Ay, and greater wonders than that. + +ROSALIND +O, I know where you are: nay, 'tis true: there was +never any thing so sudden but the fight of two rams +and Caesar's thrasonical brag of 'I came, saw, and +overcame:' for your brother and my sister no sooner +met but they looked, no sooner looked but they +loved, no sooner loved but they sighed, no sooner +sighed but they asked one another the reason, no +sooner knew the reason but they sought the remedy; +and in these degrees have they made a pair of stairs +to marriage which they will climb incontinent, or +else be incontinent before marriage: they are in +the very wrath of love and they will together; clubs +cannot part them. + +ORLANDO +They shall be married to-morrow, and I will bid the +duke to the nuptial. But, O, how bitter a thing it +is to look into happiness through another man's +eyes! By so much the more shall I to-morrow be at +the height of heart-heaviness, by how much I shall +think my brother happy in having what he wishes for. + +ROSALIND +Why then, to-morrow I cannot serve your turn for Rosalind? + +ORLANDO +I can live no longer by thinking. + +ROSALIND +I will weary you then no longer with idle talking. +Know of me then, for now I speak to some purpose, +that I know you are a gentleman of good conceit: I +speak not this that you should bear a good opinion +of my knowledge, insomuch I say I know you are; +neither do I labour for a greater esteem than may in +some little measure draw a belief from you, to do +yourself good and not to grace me. Believe then, if +you please, that I can do strange things: I have, +since I was three year old, conversed with a +magician, most profound in his art and yet not +damnable. If you do love Rosalind so near the heart +as your gesture cries it out, when your brother +marries Aliena, shall you marry her: I know into +what straits of fortune she is driven; and it is +not impossible to me, if it appear not inconvenient +to you, to set her before your eyes tomorrow human +as she is and without any danger. + +ORLANDO +Speakest thou in sober meanings? + +ROSALIND +By my life, I do; which I tender dearly, though I +say I am a magician. Therefore, put you in your +best array: bid your friends; for if you will be +married to-morrow, you shall, and to Rosalind, if you will. + +Enter SILVIUS and PHEBE + +Look, here comes a lover of mine and a lover of hers. + +PHEBE +Youth, you have done me much ungentleness, +To show the letter that I writ to you. + +ROSALIND +I care not if I have: it is my study +To seem despiteful and ungentle to you: +You are there followed by a faithful shepherd; +Look upon him, love him; he worships you. + +PHEBE +Good shepherd, tell this youth what 'tis to love. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of sighs and tears; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of faith and service; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And I for no woman. + +SILVIUS +It is to be all made of fantasy, +All made of passion and all made of wishes, +All adoration, duty, and observance, +All humbleness, all patience and impatience, +All purity, all trial, all observance; +And so am I for Phebe. + +PHEBE +And so am I for Ganymede. + +ORLANDO +And so am I for Rosalind. + +ROSALIND +And so am I for no woman. + +PHEBE +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +SILVIUS +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ORLANDO +If this be so, why blame you me to love you? + +ROSALIND +Who do you speak to, 'Why blame you me to love you?' + +ORLANDO +To her that is not here, nor doth not hear. + +ROSALIND +Pray you, no more of this; 'tis like the howling +of Irish wolves against the moon. + +To SILVIUS + +I will help you, if I can: + +To PHEBE + +I would love you, if I could. To-morrow meet me all together. + +To PHEBE + +I will marry you, if ever I marry woman, and I'll be +married to-morrow: + +To ORLANDO + +I will satisfy you, if ever I satisfied man, and you +shall be married to-morrow: + +To SILVIUS + +I will content you, if what pleases you contents +you, and you shall be married to-morrow. + +To ORLANDO + +As you love Rosalind, meet: + +To SILVIUS + +as you love Phebe, meet: and as I love no woman, +I'll meet. So fare you well: I have left you commands. + +SILVIUS +I'll not fail, if I live. + +PHEBE +Nor I. + +ORLANDO +Nor I. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY +TOUCHSTONE +To-morrow is the joyful day, Audrey; to-morrow will +we be married. + +AUDREY +I do desire it with all my heart; and I hope it is +no dishonest desire to desire to be a woman of the +world. Here comes two of the banished duke's pages. + +Enter two Pages + +First Page +Well met, honest gentleman. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a song. + +Second Page +We are for you: sit i' the middle. + +First Page +Shall we clap into't roundly, without hawking or +spitting or saying we are hoarse, which are the only +prologues to a bad voice? + +Second Page +I'faith, i'faith; and both in a tune, like two +gipsies on a horse. +SONG. +It was a lover and his lass, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +That o'er the green corn-field did pass +In the spring time, the only pretty ring time, +When birds do sing, hey ding a ding, ding: +Sweet lovers love the spring. +Between the acres of the rye, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino +These pretty country folks would lie, +In spring time, & c. +This carol they began that hour, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino, +How that a life was but a flower +In spring time, & c. +And therefore take the present time, +With a hey, and a ho, and a hey nonino; +For love is crowned with the prime +In spring time, & c. + +TOUCHSTONE +Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great +matter in the ditty, yet the note was very +untuneable. + +First Page +You are deceived, sir: we kept time, we lost not our time. + +TOUCHSTONE +By my troth, yes; I count it but time lost to hear +such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and God mend +your voices! Come, Audrey. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The forest. + +Enter DUKE SENIOR, AMIENS, JAQUES, ORLANDO, OLIVER, and CELIA +DUKE SENIOR +Dost thou believe, Orlando, that the boy +Can do all this that he hath promised? + +ORLANDO +I sometimes do believe, and sometimes do not; +As those that fear they hope, and know they fear. + +Enter ROSALIND, SILVIUS, and PHEBE + +ROSALIND +Patience once more, whiles our compact is urged: +You say, if I bring in your Rosalind, +You will bestow her on Orlando here? + +DUKE SENIOR +That would I, had I kingdoms to give with her. + +ROSALIND +And you say, you will have her, when I bring her? + +ORLANDO +That would I, were I of all kingdoms king. + +ROSALIND +You say, you'll marry me, if I be willing? + +PHEBE +That will I, should I die the hour after. + +ROSALIND +But if you do refuse to marry me, +You'll give yourself to this most faithful shepherd? + +PHEBE +So is the bargain. + +ROSALIND +You say, that you'll have Phebe, if she will? + +SILVIUS +Though to have her and death were both one thing. + +ROSALIND +I have promised to make all this matter even. +Keep you your word, O duke, to give your daughter; +You yours, Orlando, to receive his daughter: +Keep your word, Phebe, that you'll marry me, +Or else refusing me, to wed this shepherd: +Keep your word, Silvius, that you'll marry her. +If she refuse me: and from hence I go, +To make these doubts all even. + +Exeunt ROSALIND and CELIA + +DUKE SENIOR +I do remember in this shepherd boy +Some lively touches of my daughter's favour. + +ORLANDO +My lord, the first time that I ever saw him +Methought he was a brother to your daughter: +But, my good lord, this boy is forest-born, +And hath been tutor'd in the rudiments +Of many desperate studies by his uncle, +Whom he reports to be a great magician, +Obscured in the circle of this forest. + +Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY + +JAQUES +There is, sure, another flood toward, and these +couples are coming to the ark. Here comes a pair of +very strange beasts, which in all tongues are called fools. + +TOUCHSTONE +Salutation and greeting to you all! + +JAQUES +Good my lord, bid him welcome: this is the +motley-minded gentleman that I have so often met in +the forest: he hath been a courtier, he swears. + +TOUCHSTONE +If any man doubt that, let him put me to my +purgation. I have trod a measure; I have flattered +a lady; I have been politic with my friend, smooth +with mine enemy; I have undone three tailors; I have +had four quarrels, and like to have fought one. + +JAQUES +And how was that ta'en up? + +TOUCHSTONE +Faith, we met, and found the quarrel was upon the +seventh cause. + +JAQUES +How seventh cause? Good my lord, like this fellow. + +DUKE SENIOR +I like him very well. + +TOUCHSTONE +God 'ild you, sir; I desire you of the like. I +press in here, sir, amongst the rest of the country +copulatives, to swear and to forswear: according as +marriage binds and blood breaks: a poor virgin, +sir, an ill-favoured thing, sir, but mine own; a poor +humour of mine, sir, to take that that no man else +will: rich honesty dwells like a miser, sir, in a +poor house; as your pearl in your foul oyster. + +DUKE SENIOR +By my faith, he is very swift and sententious. + +TOUCHSTONE +According to the fool's bolt, sir, and such dulcet diseases. + +JAQUES +But, for the seventh cause; how did you find the +quarrel on the seventh cause? + +TOUCHSTONE +Upon a lie seven times removed:--bear your body more +seeming, Audrey:--as thus, sir. I did dislike the +cut of a certain courtier's beard: he sent me word, +if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the +mind it was: this is called the Retort Courteous. +If I sent him word again 'it was not well cut,' he +would send me word, he cut it to please himself: +this is called the Quip Modest. If again 'it was +not well cut,' he disabled my judgment: this is +called the Reply Churlish. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would answer, I spake not true: this +is called the Reproof Valiant. If again 'it was not +well cut,' he would say I lied: this is called the +Counter-cheque Quarrelsome: and so to the Lie +Circumstantial and the Lie Direct. + +JAQUES +And how oft did you say his beard was not well cut? + +TOUCHSTONE +I durst go no further than the Lie Circumstantial, +nor he durst not give me the Lie Direct; and so we +measured swords and parted. + +JAQUES +Can you nominate in order now the degrees of the lie? + +TOUCHSTONE +O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book; as you have +books for good manners: I will name you the degrees. +The first, the Retort Courteous; the second, the +Quip Modest; the third, the Reply Churlish; the +fourth, the Reproof Valiant; the fifth, the +Countercheque Quarrelsome; the sixth, the Lie with +Circumstance; the seventh, the Lie Direct. All +these you may avoid but the Lie Direct; and you may +avoid that too, with an If. I knew when seven +justices could not take up a quarrel, but when the +parties were met themselves, one of them thought but +of an If, as, 'If you said so, then I said so;' and +they shook hands and swore brothers. Your If is the +only peacemaker; much virtue in If. + +JAQUES +Is not this a rare fellow, my lord? he's as good at +any thing and yet a fool. + +DUKE SENIOR +He uses his folly like a stalking-horse and under +the presentation of that he shoots his wit. + +Enter HYMEN, ROSALIND, and CELIA + +Still Music + +HYMEN +Then is there mirth in heaven, +When earthly things made even +Atone together. +Good duke, receive thy daughter +Hymen from heaven brought her, +Yea, brought her hither, +That thou mightst join her hand with his +Whose heart within his bosom is. + +ROSALIND +[To DUKE SENIOR] To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +To ORLANDO + +To you I give myself, for I am yours. + +DUKE SENIOR +If there be truth in sight, you are my daughter. + +ORLANDO +If there be truth in sight, you are my Rosalind. + +PHEBE +If sight and shape be true, +Why then, my love adieu! + +ROSALIND +I'll have no father, if you be not he: +I'll have no husband, if you be not he: +Nor ne'er wed woman, if you be not she. + +HYMEN +Peace, ho! I bar confusion: +'Tis I must make conclusion +Of these most strange events: +Here's eight that must take hands +To join in Hymen's bands, +If truth holds true contents. +You and you no cross shall part: +You and you are heart in heart +You to his love must accord, +Or have a woman to your lord: +You and you are sure together, +As the winter to foul weather. +Whiles a wedlock-hymn we sing, +Feed yourselves with questioning; +That reason wonder may diminish, +How thus we met, and these things finish. +SONG. +Wedding is great Juno's crown: +O blessed bond of board and bed! +'Tis Hymen peoples every town; +High wedlock then be honoured: +Honour, high honour and renown, +To Hymen, god of every town! + +DUKE SENIOR +O my dear niece, welcome thou art to me! +Even daughter, welcome, in no less degree. + +PHEBE +I will not eat my word, now thou art mine; +Thy faith my fancy to thee doth combine. + +Enter JAQUES DE BOYS + +JAQUES DE BOYS +Let me have audience for a word or two: +I am the second son of old Sir Rowland, +That bring these tidings to this fair assembly. +Duke Frederick, hearing how that every day +Men of great worth resorted to this forest, +Address'd a mighty power; which were on foot, +In his own conduct, purposely to take +His brother here and put him to the sword: +And to the skirts of this wild wood he came; +Where meeting with an old religious man, +After some question with him, was converted +Both from his enterprise and from the world, +His crown bequeathing to his banish'd brother, +And all their lands restored to them again +That were with him exiled. This to be true, +I do engage my life. + +DUKE SENIOR +Welcome, young man; +Thou offer'st fairly to thy brothers' wedding: +To one his lands withheld, and to the other +A land itself at large, a potent dukedom. +First, in this forest, let us do those ends +That here were well begun and well begot: +And after, every of this happy number +That have endured shrewd days and nights with us +Shall share the good of our returned fortune, +According to the measure of their states. +Meantime, forget this new-fall'n dignity +And fall into our rustic revelry. +Play, music! And you, brides and bridegrooms all, +With measure heap'd in joy, to the measures fall. + +JAQUES +Sir, by your patience. If I heard you rightly, +The duke hath put on a religious life +And thrown into neglect the pompous court? + +JAQUES DE BOYS +He hath. + +JAQUES +To him will I : out of these convertites +There is much matter to be heard and learn'd. + +To DUKE SENIOR + +You to your former honour I bequeath; +Your patience and your virtue well deserves it: + +To ORLANDO + +You to a love that your true faith doth merit: + +To OLIVER + +You to your land and love and great allies: + +To SILVIUS + +You to a long and well-deserved bed: + +To TOUCHSTONE + +And you to wrangling; for thy loving voyage +Is but for two months victuall'd. So, to your pleasures: +I am for other than for dancing measures. + +DUKE SENIOR +Stay, Jaques, stay. + +JAQUES +To see no pastime I what you would have +I'll stay to know at your abandon'd cave. + +Exit + +DUKE SENIOR +Proceed, proceed: we will begin these rites, +As we do trust they'll end, in true delights. + +A dance + +EPILOGUE + +ROSALIND +It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue; +but it is no more unhandsome than to see the lord +the prologue. If it be true that good wine needs +no bush, 'tis true that a good play needs no +epilogue; yet to good wine they do use good bushes, +and good plays prove the better by the help of good +epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am +neither a good epilogue nor cannot insinuate with +you in the behalf of a good play! I am not +furnished like a beggar, therefore to beg will not +become me: my way is to conjure you; and I'll begin +with the women. I charge you, O women, for the love +you bear to men, to like as much of this play as +please you: and I charge you, O men, for the love +you bear to women--as I perceive by your simpering, +none of you hates them--that between you and the +women the play may please. If I were a woman I +would kiss as many of you as had beards that pleased +me, complexions that liked me and breaths that I +defied not: and, I am sure, as many as have good +beards or good faces or sweet breaths will, for my +kind offer, when I make curtsy, bid me farewell. + +Exeunt +The Comedy of Errors +Shakespeare homepage | Comedy of Errors | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A hall in DUKE SOLINUS'S palace. + +Enter DUKE SOLINUS, AEGEON, Gaoler, Officers, and other Attendants +AEGEON +Proceed, Solinus, to procure my fall +And by the doom of death end woes and all. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Merchant of Syracuse, plead no more; +I am not partial to infringe our laws: +The enmity and discord which of late +Sprung from the rancorous outrage of your duke +To merchants, our well-dealing countrymen, +Who wanting guilders to redeem their lives +Have seal'd his rigorous statutes with their bloods, +Excludes all pity from our threatening looks. +For, since the mortal and intestine jars +'Twixt thy seditious countrymen and us, +It hath in solemn synods been decreed +Both by the Syracusians and ourselves, +To admit no traffic to our adverse towns Nay, more, +If any born at Ephesus be seen +At any Syracusian marts and fairs; +Again: if any Syracusian born +Come to the bay of Ephesus, he dies, +His goods confiscate to the duke's dispose, +Unless a thousand marks be levied, +To quit the penalty and to ransom him. +Thy substance, valued at the highest rate, +Cannot amount unto a hundred marks; +Therefore by law thou art condemned to die. + +AEGEON +Yet this my comfort: when your words are done, +My woes end likewise with the evening sun. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Well, Syracusian, say in brief the cause +Why thou departed'st from thy native home +And for what cause thou camest to Ephesus. + +AEGEON +A heavier task could not have been imposed +Than I to speak my griefs unspeakable: +Yet, that the world may witness that my end +Was wrought by nature, not by vile offence, +I'll utter what my sorrows give me leave. +In Syracusa was I born, and wed +Unto a woman, happy but for me, +And by me, had not our hap been bad. +With her I lived in joy; our wealth increased +By prosperous voyages I often made +To Epidamnum; till my factor's death +And the great care of goods at random left +Drew me from kind embracements of my spouse: +From whom my absence was not six months old +Before herself, almost at fainting under +The pleasing punishment that women bear, +Had made provision for her following me +And soon and safe arrived where I was. +There had she not been long, but she became +A joyful mother of two goodly sons; +And, which was strange, the one so like the other, +As could not be distinguish'd but by names. +That very hour, and in the self-same inn, +A meaner woman was delivered +Of such a burden, male twins, both alike: +Those,--for their parents were exceeding poor,-- +I bought and brought up to attend my sons. +My wife, not meanly proud of two such boys, +Made daily motions for our home return: +Unwilling I agreed. Alas! too soon, +We came aboard. +A league from Epidamnum had we sail'd, +Before the always wind-obeying deep +Gave any tragic instance of our harm: +But longer did we not retain much hope; +For what obscured light the heavens did grant +Did but convey unto our fearful minds +A doubtful warrant of immediate death; +Which though myself would gladly have embraced, +Yet the incessant weepings of my wife, +Weeping before for what she saw must come, +And piteous plainings of the pretty babes, +That mourn'd for fashion, ignorant what to fear, +Forced me to seek delays for them and me. +And this it was, for other means was none: +The sailors sought for safety by our boat, +And left the ship, then sinking-ripe, to us: +My wife, more careful for the latter-born, +Had fasten'd him unto a small spare mast, +Such as seafaring men provide for storms; +To him one of the other twins was bound, +Whilst I had been like heedful of the other: +The children thus disposed, my wife and I, +Fixing our eyes on whom our care was fix'd, +Fasten'd ourselves at either end the mast; +And floating straight, obedient to the stream, +Was carried towards Corinth, as we thought. +At length the sun, gazing upon the earth, +Dispersed those vapours that offended us; +And by the benefit of his wished light, +The seas wax'd calm, and we discovered +Two ships from far making amain to us, +Of Corinth that, of Epidaurus this: +But ere they came,--O, let me say no more! +Gather the sequel by that went before. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Nay, forward, old man; do not break off so; +For we may pity, though not pardon thee. + +AEGEON +O, had the gods done so, I had not now +Worthily term'd them merciless to us! +For, ere the ships could meet by twice five leagues, +We were encounterd by a mighty rock; +Which being violently borne upon, +Our helpful ship was splitted in the midst; +So that, in this unjust divorce of us, +Fortune had left to both of us alike +What to delight in, what to sorrow for. +Her part, poor soul! seeming as burdened +With lesser weight but not with lesser woe, +Was carried with more speed before the wind; +And in our sight they three were taken up +By fishermen of Corinth, as we thought. +At length, another ship had seized on us; +And, knowing whom it was their hap to save, +Gave healthful welcome to their shipwreck'd guests; +And would have reft the fishers of their prey, +Had not their bark been very slow of sail; +And therefore homeward did they bend their course. +Thus have you heard me sever'd from my bliss; +That by misfortunes was my life prolong'd, +To tell sad stories of my own mishaps. + +DUKE SOLINUS +And for the sake of them thou sorrowest for, +Do me the favour to dilate at full +What hath befall'n of them and thee till now. + +AEGEON +My youngest boy, and yet my eldest care, +At eighteen years became inquisitive +After his brother: and importuned me +That his attendant--so his case was like, +Reft of his brother, but retain'd his name-- +Might bear him company in the quest of him: +Whom whilst I labour'd of a love to see, +I hazarded the loss of whom I loved. +Five summers have I spent in furthest Greece, +Roaming clean through the bounds of Asia, +And, coasting homeward, came to Ephesus; +Hopeless to find, yet loath to leave unsought +Or that or any place that harbours men. +But here must end the story of my life; +And happy were I in my timely death, +Could all my travels warrant me they live. + +DUKE SOLINUS +Hapless AEgeon, whom the fates have mark'd +To bear the extremity of dire mishap! +Now, trust me, were it not against our laws, +Against my crown, my oath, my dignity, +Which princes, would they, may not disannul, +My soul would sue as advocate for thee. +But, though thou art adjudged to the death +And passed sentence may not be recall'd +But to our honour's great disparagement, +Yet I will favour thee in what I can. +Therefore, merchant, I'll limit thee this day +To seek thy life by beneficial help: +Try all the friends thou hast in Ephesus; +Beg thou, or borrow, to make up the sum, +And live; if no, then thou art doom'd to die. +Gaoler, take him to thy custody. + +Gaoler +I will, my lord. + +AEGEON +Hopeless and helpless doth AEgeon wend, +But to procrastinate his lifeless end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Mart. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse, DROMIO of Syracuse, and First Merchant +First Merchant +Therefore give out you are of Epidamnum, +Lest that your goods too soon be confiscate. +This very day a Syracusian merchant +Is apprehended for arrival here; +And not being able to buy out his life +According to the statute of the town, +Dies ere the weary sun set in the west. +There is your money that I had to keep. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Go bear it to the Centaur, where we host, +And stay there, Dromio, till I come to thee. +Within this hour it will be dinner-time: +Till that, I'll view the manners of the town, +Peruse the traders, gaze upon the buildings, +And then return and sleep within mine inn, +For with long travel I am stiff and weary. +Get thee away. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Many a man would take you at your word, +And go indeed, having so good a mean. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +A trusty villain, sir, that very oft, +When I am dull with care and melancholy, +Lightens my humour with his merry jests. +What, will you walk with me about the town, +And then go to my inn and dine with me? + +First Merchant +I am invited, sir, to certain merchants, +Of whom I hope to make much benefit; +I crave your pardon. Soon at five o'clock, +Please you, I'll meet with you upon the mart +And afterward consort you till bed-time: +My present business calls me from you now. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Farewell till then: I will go lose myself +And wander up and down to view the city. + +First Merchant +Sir, I commend you to your own content. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +He that commends me to mine own content +Commends me to the thing I cannot get. +I to the world am like a drop of water +That in the ocean seeks another drop, +Who, falling there to find his fellow forth, +Unseen, inquisitive, confounds himself: +So I, to find a mother and a brother, +In quest of them, unhappy, lose myself. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +Here comes the almanac of my true date. +What now? how chance thou art return'd so soon? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Return'd so soon! rather approach'd too late: +The capon burns, the pig falls from the spit, +The clock hath strucken twelve upon the bell; +My mistress made it one upon my cheek: +She is so hot because the meat is cold; +The meat is cold because you come not home; +You come not home because you have no stomach; +You have no stomach having broke your fast; +But we that know what 'tis to fast and pray +Are penitent for your default to-day. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Stop in your wind, sir: tell me this, I pray: +Where have you left the money that I gave you? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O,--sixpence, that I had o' Wednesday last +To pay the saddler for my mistress' crupper? +The saddler had it, sir; I kept it not. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I am not in a sportive humour now: +Tell me, and dally not, where is the money? +We being strangers here, how darest thou trust +So great a charge from thine own custody? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I pray you, air, as you sit at dinner: +I from my mistress come to you in post; +If I return, I shall be post indeed, +For she will score your fault upon my pate. +Methinks your maw, like mine, should be your clock, +And strike you home without a messenger. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come, Dromio, come, these jests are out of season; +Reserve them till a merrier hour than this. +Where is the gold I gave in charge to thee? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +To me, sir? why, you gave no gold to me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Come on, sir knave, have done your foolishness, +And tell me how thou hast disposed thy charge. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +My charge was but to fetch you from the mart +Home to your house, the Phoenix, sir, to dinner: +My mistress and her sister stays for you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In what safe place you have bestow'd my money, +Or I shall break that merry sconce of yours +That stands on tricks when I am undisposed: +Where is the thousand marks thou hadst of me? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I have some marks of yours upon my pate, +Some of my mistress' marks upon my shoulders, +But not a thousand marks between you both. +If I should pay your worship those again, +Perchance you will not bear them patiently. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thy mistress' marks? what mistress, slave, hast thou? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Your worship's wife, my mistress at the Phoenix; +She that doth fast till you come home to dinner, +And prays that you will hie you home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +What, wilt thou flout me thus unto my face, +Being forbid? There, take you that, sir knave. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What mean you, sir? for God's sake, hold your hands! +Nay, and you will not, sir, I'll take my heels. + +Exit + +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Upon my life, by some device or other +The villain is o'er-raught of all my money. +They say this town is full of cozenage, +As, nimble jugglers that deceive the eye, +Dark-working sorcerers that change the mind, +Soul-killing witches that deform the body, +Disguised cheaters, prating mountebanks, +And many such-like liberties of sin: +If it prove so, I will be gone the sooner. +I'll to the Centaur, to go seek this slave: +I greatly fear my money is not safe. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. The house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA +ADRIANA +Neither my husband nor the slave return'd, +That in such haste I sent to seek his master! +Sure, Luciana, it is two o'clock. + +LUCIANA +Perhaps some merchant hath invited him, +And from the mart he's somewhere gone to dinner. +Good sister, let us dine and never fret: +A man is master of his liberty: +Time is their master, and, when they see time, +They'll go or come: if so, be patient, sister. + +ADRIANA +Why should their liberty than ours be more? + +LUCIANA +Because their business still lies out o' door. + +ADRIANA +Look, when I serve him so, he takes it ill. + +LUCIANA +O, know he is the bridle of your will. + +ADRIANA +There's none but asses will be bridled so. + +LUCIANA +Why, headstrong liberty is lash'd with woe. +There's nothing situate under heaven's eye +But hath his bound, in earth, in sea, in sky: +The beasts, the fishes, and the winged fowls, +Are their males' subjects and at their controls: +Men, more divine, the masters of all these, +Lords of the wide world and wild watery seas, +Indued with intellectual sense and souls, +Of more preeminence than fish and fowls, +Are masters to their females, and their lords: +Then let your will attend on their accords. + +ADRIANA +This servitude makes you to keep unwed. + +LUCIANA +Not this, but troubles of the marriage-bed. + +ADRIANA +But, were you wedded, you would bear some sway. + +LUCIANA +Ere I learn love, I'll practise to obey. + +ADRIANA +How if your husband start some other where? + +LUCIANA +Till he come home again, I would forbear. + +ADRIANA +Patience unmoved! no marvel though she pause; +They can be meek that have no other cause. +A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, +We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; +But were we burdened with like weight of pain, +As much or more would we ourselves complain: +So thou, that hast no unkind mate to grieve thee, +With urging helpless patience wouldst relieve me, +But, if thou live to see like right bereft, +This fool-begg'd patience in thee will be left. + +LUCIANA +Well, I will marry one day, but to try. +Here comes your man; now is your husband nigh. + +Enter DROMIO of Ephesus + +ADRIANA +Say, is your tardy master now at hand? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he's at two hands with me, and that my two ears +can witness. + +ADRIANA +Say, didst thou speak with him? know'st thou his mind? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Ay, ay, he told his mind upon mine ear: +Beshrew his hand, I scarce could understand it. + +LUCIANA +Spake he so doubtfully, thou couldst not feel his meaning? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Nay, he struck so plainly, I could too well feel his +blows; and withal so doubtfully that I could scarce +understand them. + +ADRIANA +But say, I prithee, is he coming home? It seems he +hath great care to please his wife. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Why, mistress, sure my master is horn-mad. + +ADRIANA +Horn-mad, thou villain! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +I mean not cuckold-mad; +But, sure, he is stark mad. +When I desired him to come home to dinner, +He ask'd me for a thousand marks in gold: +''Tis dinner-time,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he; +'Your meat doth burn,' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he: +'Will you come home?' quoth I; 'My gold!' quoth he. +'Where is the thousand marks I gave thee, villain?' +'The pig,' quoth I, 'is burn'd;' 'My gold!' quoth he: +'My mistress, sir' quoth I; 'Hang up thy mistress! +I know not thy mistress; out on thy mistress!' + +LUCIANA +Quoth who? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Quoth my master: +'I know,' quoth he, 'no house, no wife, no mistress.' +So that my errand, due unto my tongue, +I thank him, I bare home upon my shoulders; +For, in conclusion, he did beat me there. + +ADRIANA +Go back again, thou slave, and fetch him home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Go back again, and be new beaten home? +For God's sake, send some other messenger. + +ADRIANA +Back, slave, or I will break thy pate across. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +And he will bless that cross with other beating: +Between you I shall have a holy head. + +ADRIANA +Hence, prating peasant! fetch thy master home. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Am I so round with you as you with me, +That like a football you do spurn me thus? +You spurn me hence, and he will spurn me hither: +If I last in this service, you must case me in leather. + +Exit + +LUCIANA +Fie, how impatience loureth in your face! + +ADRIANA +His company must do his minions grace, +Whilst I at home starve for a merry look. +Hath homely age the alluring beauty took +From my poor cheek? then he hath wasted it: +Are my discourses dull? barren my wit? +If voluble and sharp discourse be marr'd, +Unkindness blunts it more than marble hard: +Do their gay vestments his affections bait? +That's not my fault: he's master of my state: +What ruins are in me that can be found, +By him not ruin'd? then is he the ground +Of my defeatures. My decayed fair +A sunny look of his would soon repair +But, too unruly deer, he breaks the pale +And feeds from home; poor I am but his stale. + +LUCIANA +Self-harming jealousy! fie, beat it hence! + +ADRIANA +Unfeeling fools can with such wrongs dispense. +I know his eye doth homage otherwhere, +Or else what lets it but he would be here? +Sister, you know he promised me a chain; +Would that alone, alone he would detain, +So he would keep fair quarter with his bed! +I see the jewel best enamelled +Will lose his beauty; yet the gold bides still, +That others touch, and often touching will +Wear gold: and no man that hath a name, +By falsehood and corruption doth it shame. +Since that my beauty cannot please his eye, +I'll weep what's left away, and weeping die. + +LUCIANA +How many fond fools serve mad jealousy! + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Syracuse +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +The gold I gave to Dromio is laid up +Safe at the Centaur; and the heedful slave +Is wander'd forth, in care to seek me out +By computation and mine host's report. +I could not speak with Dromio since at first +I sent him from the mart. See, here he comes. + +Enter DROMIO of Syracuse + +How now sir! is your merry humour alter'd? +As you love strokes, so jest with me again. +You know no Centaur? you received no gold? +Your mistress sent to have me home to dinner? +My house was at the Phoenix? Wast thou mad, +That thus so madly thou didst answer me? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +What answer, sir? when spake I such a word? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Even now, even here, not half an hour since. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I did not see you since you sent me hence, +Home to the Centaur, with the gold you gave me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou didst deny the gold's receipt, +And told'st me of a mistress and a dinner; +For which, I hope, thou felt'st I was displeased. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am glad to see you in this merry vein: +What means this jest? I pray you, master, tell me. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Yea, dost thou jeer and flout me in the teeth? +Think'st thou I jest? Hold, take thou that, and that. + +Beating him + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Hold, sir, for God's sake! now your jest is earnest: +Upon what bargain do you give it me? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Because that I familiarly sometimes +Do use you for my fool and chat with you, +Your sauciness will jest upon my love +And make a common of my serious hours. +When the sun shines let foolish gnats make sport, +But creep in crannies when he hides his beams. +If you will jest with me, know my aspect, +And fashion your demeanor to my looks, +Or I will beat this method in your sconce. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sconce call you it? so you would leave battering, I +had rather have it a head: an you use these blows +long, I must get a sconce for my head and ensconce +it too; or else I shall seek my wit in my shoulders. +But, I pray, sir why am I beaten? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Dost thou not know? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nothing, sir, but that I am beaten. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Shall I tell you why? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Ay, sir, and wherefore; for they say every why hath +a wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, first,--for flouting me; and then, wherefore-- +For urging it the second time to me. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Was there ever any man thus beaten out of season, +When in the why and the wherefore is neither rhyme +nor reason? +Well, sir, I thank you. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thank me, sir, for what? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, for this something that you gave me for nothing. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I'll make you amends next, to give you nothing for +something. But say, sir, is it dinner-time? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, sir; I think the meat wants that I have. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +In good time, sir; what's that? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, then 'twill be dry. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +If it be, sir, I pray you, eat none of it. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Your reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Lest it make you choleric and purchase me another +dry basting. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Well, sir, learn to jest in good time: there's a +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I durst have denied that, before you were so choleric. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By what rule, sir? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, sir, by a rule as plain as the plain bald +pate of father Time himself. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Let's hear it. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +There's no time for a man to recover his hair that +grows bald by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +May he not do it by fine and recovery? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Yes, to pay a fine for a periwig and recover the +lost hair of another man. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is, +so plentiful an excrement? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts; +and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath given them in wit. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, but there's many a man hath more hair than wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Not a man of those but he hath the wit to lose his hair. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Why, thou didst conclude hairy men plain dealers without wit. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The plainer dealer, the sooner lost: yet he loseth +it in a kind of jollity. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +For what reason? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +For two; and sound ones too. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sound, I pray you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Sure ones, then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Nay, not sure, in a thing falsing. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Certain ones then. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Name them. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +The one, to save the money that he spends in +trimming; the other, that at dinner they should not +drop in his porridge. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +You would all this time have proved there is no +time for all things. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Marry, and did, sir; namely, no time to recover hair +lost by nature. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +But your reason was not substantial, why there is no +time to recover. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Thus I mend it: Time himself is bald and therefore +to the world's end will have bald followers. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I knew 'twould be a bald conclusion: +But, soft! who wafts us yonder? + +Enter ADRIANA and LUCIANA + +ADRIANA +Ay, ay, Antipholus, look strange and frown: +Some other mistress hath thy sweet aspects; +I am not Adriana nor thy wife. +The time was once when thou unurged wouldst vow +That never words were music to thine ear, +That never object pleasing in thine eye, +That never touch well welcome to thy hand, +That never meat sweet-savor'd in thy taste, +Unless I spake, or look'd, or touch'd, or carved to thee. +How comes it now, my husband, O, how comes it, +That thou art thus estranged from thyself? +Thyself I call it, being strange to me, +That, undividable, incorporate, +Am better than thy dear self's better part. +Ah, do not tear away thyself from me! +For know, my love, as easy mayest thou fall +A drop of water in the breaking gulf, +And take unmingled that same drop again, +Without addition or diminishing, +As take from me thyself and not me too. +How dearly would it touch me to the quick, +Shouldst thou but hear I were licentious +And that this body, consecrate to thee, +By ruffian lust should be contaminate! +Wouldst thou not spit at me and spurn at me +And hurl the name of husband in my face +And tear the stain'd skin off my harlot-brow +And from my false hand cut the wedding-ring +And break it with a deep-divorcing vow? +I know thou canst; and therefore see thou do it. +I am possess'd with an adulterate blot; +My blood is mingled with the crime of lust: +For if we too be one and thou play false, +I do digest the poison of thy flesh, +Being strumpeted by thy contagion. +Keep then far league and truce with thy true bed; +I live unstain'd, thou undishonoured. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Plead you to me, fair dame? I know you not: +In Ephesus I am but two hours old, +As strange unto your town as to your talk; +Who, every word by all my wit being scann'd, +Want wit in all one word to understand. + +LUCIANA +Fie, brother! how the world is changed with you! +When were you wont to use my sister thus? +She sent for you by Dromio home to dinner. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +By Dromio? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +By me? + +ADRIANA +By thee; and this thou didst return from him, +That he did buffet thee, and, in his blows, +Denied my house for his, me for his wife. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Did you converse, sir, with this gentlewoman? +What is the course and drift of your compact? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I, sir? I never saw her till this time. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Villain, thou liest; for even her very words +Didst thou deliver to me on the mart. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I never spake with her in all my life. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +How can she thus then call us by our names, +Unless it be by inspiration. + +ADRIANA +How ill agrees it with your gravity +To counterfeit thus grossly with your slave, +Abetting him to thwart me in my mood! +Be it my wrong you are from me exempt, +But wrong not that wrong with a more contempt. +Come, I will fasten on this sleeve of thine: +Thou art an elm, my husband, I a vine, +Whose weakness, married to thy stronger state, +Makes me with thy strength to communicate: +If aught possess thee from me, it is dross, +Usurping ivy, brier, or idle moss; +Who, all for want of pruning, with intrusion +Infect thy sap and live on thy confusion. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +To me she speaks; she moves me for her theme: +What, was I married to her in my dream? +Or sleep I now and think I hear all this? +What error drives our eyes and ears amiss? +Until I know this sure uncertainty, +I'll entertain the offer'd fallacy. + +LUCIANA +Dromio, go bid the servants spread for dinner. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +O, for my beads! I cross me for a sinner. +This is the fairy land: O spite of spites! +We talk with goblins, owls and sprites: +If we obey them not, this will ensue, +They'll suck our breath, or pinch us black and blue. + +LUCIANA +Why pratest thou to thyself and answer'st not? +Dromio, thou drone, thou snail, thou slug, thou sot! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +I am transformed, master, am I not? +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +I think thou art in mind, and so am I. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Nay, master, both in mind and in my shape. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Thou hast thine own form. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +No, I am an ape. + +LUCIANA +If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +'Tis true; she rides me and I long for grass. +'Tis so, I am an ass; else it could never be +But I should know her as well as she knows me. + +ADRIANA +Come, come, no longer will I be a fool, +To put the finger in the eye and weep, +Whilst man and master laugh my woes to scorn. +Come, sir, to dinner. Dromio, keep the gate. +Husband, I'll dine above with you to-day +And shrive you of a thousand idle pranks. +Sirrah, if any ask you for your master, +Say he dines forth, and let no creature enter. +Come, sister. Dromio, play the porter well. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF SYRACUSE +Am I in earth, in heaven, or in hell? +Sleeping or waking? mad or well-advised? +Known unto these, and to myself disguised! +I'll say as they say and persever so, +And in this mist at all adventures go. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +Master, shall I be porter at the gate? + +ADRIANA +Ay; and let none enter, lest I break your pate. + +LUCIANA +Come, come, Antipholus, we dine too late. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the house of ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus. + +Enter ANTIPHOLUS of Ephesus, DROMIO of Ephesus, ANGELO, and BALTHAZAR +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Good Signior Angelo, you must excuse us all; +My wife is shrewish when I keep not hours: +Say that I linger'd with you at your shop +To see the making of her carcanet, +And that to-morrow you will bring it home. +But here's a villain that would face me down +He met me on the mart, and that I beat him, +And charged him with a thousand marks in gold, +And that I did deny my wife and house. +Thou drunkard, thou, what didst thou mean by this? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Say what you will, sir, but I know what I know; +That you beat me at the mart, I have your hand to show: +If the skin were parchment, and the blows you gave were ink, +Your own handwriting would tell you what I think. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +I think thou art an ass. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Marry, so it doth appear +By the wrongs I suffer and the blows I bear. +I should kick, being kick'd; and, being at that pass, +You would keep from my heels and beware of an ass. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You're sad, Signior Balthazar: pray God our cheer +May answer my good will and your good welcome here. + +BALTHAZAR +I hold your dainties cheap, sir, and your +welcome dear. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +O, Signior Balthazar, either at flesh or fish, +A table full of welcome make scarce one dainty dish. + +BALTHAZAR +Good meat, sir, is common; that every churl affords. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +And welcome more common; for that's nothing but words. + +BALTHAZAR +Small cheer and great welcome makes a merry feast. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Ay, to a niggardly host, and more sparing guest: +But though my cates be mean, take them in good part; +Better cheer may you have, but not with better heart. +But, soft! my door is lock'd. Go bid them let us in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Maud, Bridget, Marian, Cicel, Gillian, Ginn! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Mome, malt-horse, capon, coxcomb, +idiot, patch! +Either get thee from the door, or sit down at the hatch. +Dost thou conjure for wenches, that thou call'st +for such store, +When one is one too many? Go, get thee from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +What patch is made our porter? My master stays in +the street. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Let him walk from whence he came, lest he +catch cold on's feet. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Who talks within there? ho, open the door! + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Right, sir; I'll tell you when, an you tell +me wherefore. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Wherefore? for my dinner: I have not dined to-day. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Nor to-day here you must not; come again +when you may. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +What art thou that keepest me out from the house I owe? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] The porter for this time, sir, and my name +is Dromio. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O villain! thou hast stolen both mine office and my name. +The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame. +If thou hadst been Dromio to-day in my place, +Thou wouldst have changed thy face for a name or thy +name for an ass. + +LUCE +[Within] What a coil is there, Dromio? who are those +at the gate? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Let my master in, Luce. + +LUCE +[Within] Faith, no; he comes too late; +And so tell your master. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +O Lord, I must laugh! +Have at you with a proverb--Shall I set in my staff? + +LUCE +[Within] Have at you with another; that's--When? +can you tell? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] If thy name be call'd Luce--Luce, thou hast +answered him well. + +ANTIPHOLUS +Do you hear, you minion? you'll let us in, I hope? +OF EPHESUS + +LUCE +[Within] I thought to have asked you. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] And you said no. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +So, come, help: well struck! there was blow for blow. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Thou baggage, let me in. + +LUCE +[Within] Can you tell for whose sake? + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Master, knock the door hard. + +LUCE +[Within] Let him knock till it ache. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You'll cry for this, minion, if I beat the door down. + +LUCE +[Within] What needs all that, and a pair of stocks in the town? + +ADRIANA +[Within] Who is that at the door that keeps all +this noise? + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] By my troth, your town is troubled with +unruly boys. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Are you there, wife? you might have come before. + +ADRIANA +[Within] Your wife, sir knave! go get you from the door. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +If you went in pain, master, this 'knave' would go sore. + +ANGELO +Here is neither cheer, sir, nor welcome: we would +fain have either. + +BALTHAZAR +In debating which was best, we shall part with neither. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +They stand at the door, master; bid them welcome hither. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +There is something in the wind, that we cannot get in. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +You would say so, master, if your garments were thin. +Your cake there is warm within; you stand here in the cold: +It would make a man mad as a buck, to be so bought and sold. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go fetch me something: I'll break ope the gate. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Break any breaking here, and I'll break your +knave's pate. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A man may break a word with you, sir, and words are but wind, +Ay, and break it in your face, so he break it not behind. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] It seems thou want'st breaking: out upon +thee, hind! + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +Here's too much 'out upon thee!' I pray thee, +let me in. + +DROMIO OF SYRACUSE +[Within] Ay, when fowls have no feathers and fish have no fin. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Well, I'll break in: go borrow me a crow. + +DROMIO OF EPHESUS +A crow without feather? Master, mean you so? +For a fish without a fin, there's a fowl without a feather; +If a crow help us in, sirrah, we'll pluck a crow together. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +Go get thee gone; fetch me an iron crow. + +BALTHAZAR +Have patience, sir; O, let it not be so! +Herein you war against your reputation +And draw within the compass of suspect +The unviolated honour of your wife. +Once this,--your long experience of her wisdom, +Her sober virtue, years and modesty, +Plead on her part some cause to you unknown: +And doubt not, sir, but she will well excuse +Why at this time the doors are made against you. +Be ruled by me: depart in patience, +And let us to the Tiger all to dinner, +And about evening come yourself alone +To know the reason of this strange restraint. +If by strong hand you offer to break in +Now in the stirring passage of the day, +A vulgar comment will be made of it, +And that supposed by the common rout +Against your yet ungalled estimation +That may with foul intrusion enter in +And dwell upon your grave when you are dead; +For slander lives upon succession, +For ever housed where it gets possession. +ANTIPHOLUS + +OF EPHESUS +You have prevailed: I will depart in quiet, +And, in despite of mirth, mean to be merry. +I know a wench of excellent discourse, +Pretty and witty; wild, and yet, too, gentle: +There will we dine. This woman that I mean, +My wife--but, I protest, without desert-- +Hath oftentimes upbraided me withal: +To her will we to dinner. + +To Angelo + +Get you home +And fetch the chain; by this I know 'tis made: +Bring it, I pray you, to the Porpentine; +For there's the house: that chain will I bestow-- +Be it for nothing but to spite my wife-- +Upon mine hostess there: good sir, make haste. +Since mine own doors refuse to entertain me, +I'll knock elsewhere, to see if they'll disdain me. + +The First part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY, LORD JOHN OF LANCASTER, the EARL of WESTMORELAND, SIR WALTER BLUNT, and others +KING HENRY IV +So shaken as we are, so wan with care, +Find we a time for frighted peace to pant, +And breathe short-winded accents of new broils +To be commenced in strands afar remote. +No more the thirsty entrance of this soil +Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood; +Nor more shall trenching war channel her fields, +Nor bruise her flowerets with the armed hoofs +Of hostile paces: those opposed eyes, +Which, like the meteors of a troubled heaven, +All of one nature, of one substance bred, +Did lately meet in the intestine shock +And furious close of civil butchery +Shall now, in mutual well-beseeming ranks, +March all one way and be no more opposed +Against acquaintance, kindred and allies: +The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, +No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, +As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, +Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross +We are impressed and engaged to fight, +Forthwith a power of English shall we levy; +Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb +To chase these pagans in those holy fields +Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet +Which fourteen hundred years ago were nail'd +For our advantage on the bitter cross. +But this our purpose now is twelve month old, +And bootless 'tis to tell you we will go: +Therefore we meet not now. Then let me hear +Of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland, +What yesternight our council did decree +In forwarding this dear expedience. + +WESTMORELAND +My liege, this haste was hot in question, +And many limits of the charge set down +But yesternight: when all athwart there came +A post from Wales loaden with heavy news; +Whose worst was, that the noble Mortimer, +Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight +Against the irregular and wild Glendower, +Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, +A thousand of his people butchered; +Upon whose dead corpse there was such misuse, +Such beastly shameless transformation, +By those Welshwomen done as may not be +Without much shame retold or spoken of. + +KING HENRY IV +It seems then that the tidings of this broil +Brake off our business for the Holy Land. + +WESTMORELAND +This match'd with other did, my gracious lord; +For more uneven and unwelcome news +Came from the north and thus it did import: +On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there, +Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald, +That ever-valiant and approved Scot, +At Holmedon met, +Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour, +As by discharge of their artillery, +And shape of likelihood, the news was told; +For he that brought them, in the very heat +And pride of their contention did take horse, +Uncertain of the issue any way. + +KING HENRY IV +Here is a dear, a true industrious friend, +Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse. +Stain'd with the variation of each soil +Betwixt that Holmedon and this seat of ours; +And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. +The Earl of Douglas is discomfited: +Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, +Balk'd in their own blood did Sir Walter see +On Holmedon's plains. Of prisoners, Hotspur took +Mordake the Earl of Fife, and eldest son +To beaten Douglas; and the Earl of Athol, +Of Murray, Angus, and Menteith: +And is not this an honourable spoil? +A gallant prize? ha, cousin, is it not? + +WESTMORELAND +In faith, +It is a conquest for a prince to boast of. + +KING HENRY IV +Yea, there thou makest me sad and makest me sin +In envy that my Lord Northumberland +Should be the father to so blest a son, +A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; +Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; +Who is sweet Fortune's minion and her pride: +Whilst I, by looking on the praise of him, +See riot and dishonour stain the brow +Of my young Harry. O that it could be proved +That some night-tripping fairy had exchanged +In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, +And call'd mine Percy, his Plantagenet! +Then would I have his Harry, and he mine. +But let him from my thoughts. What think you, coz, +Of this young Percy's pride? the prisoners, +Which he in this adventure hath surprised, +To his own use he keeps; and sends me word, +I shall have none but Mordake Earl of Fife. + +WESTMORELAND +This is his uncle's teaching; this is Worcester, +Malevolent to you in all aspects; +Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up +The crest of youth against your dignity. + +KING HENRY IV +But I have sent for him to answer this; +And for this cause awhile we must neglect +Our holy purpose to Jerusalem. +Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we +Will hold at Windsor; so inform the lords: +But come yourself with speed to us again; +For more is to be said and to be done +Than out of anger can be uttered. + +WESTMORELAND +I will, my liege. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. An apartment of the Prince's. + +Enter the PRINCE OF WALES and FALSTAFF +FALSTAFF +Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack +and unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon +benches after noon, that thou hast forgotten to +demand that truly which thou wouldst truly know. +What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the +day? Unless hours were cups of sack and minutes +capons and clocks the tongues of bawds and dials the +signs of leaping-houses and the blessed sun himself +a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see no +reason why thou shouldst be so superfluous to demand +the time of the day. + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, you come near me now, Hal; for we that take +purses go by the moon and the seven stars, and not +by Phoebus, he,'that wandering knight so fair.' And, +I prithee, sweet wag, when thou art king, as, God +save thy grace,--majesty I should say, for grace +thou wilt have none,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, none? + +FALSTAFF +No, by my troth, not so much as will serve to +prologue to an egg and butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, how then? come, roundly, roundly. + +FALSTAFF +Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art king, let not +us that are squires of the night's body be called +thieves of the day's beauty: let us be Diana's +foresters, gentlemen of the shade, minions of the +moon; and let men say we be men of good government, +being governed, as the sea is, by our noble and +chaste mistress the moon, under whose countenance we steal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou sayest well, and it holds well too; for the +fortune of us that are the moon's men doth ebb and +flow like the sea, being governed, as the sea is, +by the moon. As, for proof, now: a purse of gold +most resolutely snatched on Monday night and most +dissolutely spent on Tuesday morning; got with +swearing 'Lay by' and spent with crying 'Bring in;' +now in as low an ebb as the foot of the ladder +and by and by in as high a flow as the ridge of the gallows. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, thou sayest true, lad. And is not my +hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench? + +PRINCE HENRY +As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And +is not a buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance? + +FALSTAFF +How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and +thy quiddities? what a plague have I to do with a +buff jerkin? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern? + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a +time and oft. + +PRINCE HENRY +Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part? + +FALSTAFF +No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; +and where it would not, I have used my credit. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, and so used it that were it not here apparent +that thou art heir apparent--But, I prithee, sweet +wag, shall there be gallows standing in England when +thou art king? and resolution thus fobbed as it is +with the rusty curb of old father antic the law? Do +not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief. + +PRINCE HENRY +No; thou shalt. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? O rare! By the Lord, I'll be a brave judge. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou judgest false already: I mean, thou shalt have +the hanging of the thieves and so become a rare hangman. + +FALSTAFF +Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps with my +humour as well as waiting in the court, I can tell +you. + +PRINCE HENRY +For obtaining of suits? + +FALSTAFF +Yea, for obtaining of suits, whereof the hangman +hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am as melancholy +as a gib cat or a lugged bear. + +PRINCE HENRY +Or an old lion, or a lover's lute. + +FALSTAFF +Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe. + +PRINCE HENRY +What sayest thou to a hare, or the melancholy of +Moor-ditch? + +FALSTAFF +Thou hast the most unsavoury similes and art indeed +the most comparative, rascalliest, sweet young +prince. But, Hal, I prithee, trouble me no more +with vanity. I would to God thou and I knew where a +commodity of good names were to be bought. An old +lord of the council rated me the other day in the +street about you, sir, but I marked him not; and yet +he talked very wisely, but I regarded him not; and +yet he talked wisely, and in the street too. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou didst well; for wisdom cries out in the +streets, and no man regards it. + +FALSTAFF +O, thou hast damnable iteration and art indeed able +to corrupt a saint. Thou hast done much harm upon +me, Hal; God forgive thee for it! Before I knew +thee, Hal, I knew nothing; and now am I, if a man +should speak truly, little better than one of the +wicked. I must give over this life, and I will give +it over: by the Lord, and I do not, I am a villain: +I'll be damned for never a king's son in +Christendom. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where shall we take a purse tomorrow, Jack? + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, where thou wilt, lad; I'll make one; an I +do not, call me villain and baffle me. + +PRINCE HENRY +I see a good amendment of life in thee; from praying +to purse-taking. + +FALSTAFF +Why, Hal, 'tis my vocation, Hal; 'tis no sin for a +man to labour in his vocation. + +Enter POINS + +Poins! Now shall we know if Gadshill have set a +match. O, if men were to be saved by merit, what +hole in hell were hot enough for him? This is the +most omnipotent villain that ever cried 'Stand' to +a true man. + +PRINCE HENRY +Good morrow, Ned. + +POINS +Good morrow, sweet Hal. What says Monsieur Remorse? +what says Sir John Sack and Sugar? Jack! how +agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou +soldest him on Good-Friday last for a cup of Madeira +and a cold capon's leg? + +PRINCE HENRY +Sir John stands to his word, the devil shall have +his bargain; for he was never yet a breaker of +proverbs: he will give the devil his due. + +POINS +Then art thou damned for keeping thy word with the devil. + +PRINCE HENRY +Else he had been damned for cozening the devil. + +POINS +But, my lads, my lads, to-morrow morning, by four +o'clock, early at Gadshill! there are pilgrims going +to Canterbury with rich offerings, and traders +riding to London with fat purses: I have vizards +for you all; you have horses for yourselves: +Gadshill lies to-night in Rochester: I have bespoke +supper to-morrow night in Eastcheap: we may do it +as secure as sleep. If you will go, I will stuff +your purses full of crowns; if you will not, tarry +at home and be hanged. + +FALSTAFF +Hear ye, Yedward; if I tarry at home and go not, +I'll hang you for going. + +POINS +You will, chops? + +FALSTAFF +Hal, wilt thou make one? + +PRINCE HENRY +Who, I rob? I a thief? not I, by my faith. + +FALSTAFF +There's neither honesty, manhood, nor good +fellowship in thee, nor thou camest not of the blood +royal, if thou darest not stand for ten shillings. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well then, once in my days I'll be a madcap. + +FALSTAFF +Why, that's well said. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, come what will, I'll tarry at home. + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I'll be a traitor then, when thou art king. + +PRINCE HENRY +I care not. + +POINS +Sir John, I prithee, leave the prince and me alone: +I will lay him down such reasons for this adventure +that he shall go. + +FALSTAFF +Well, God give thee the spirit of persuasion and him +the ears of profiting, that what thou speakest may +move and what he hears may be believed, that the +true prince may, for recreation sake, prove a false +thief; for the poor abuses of the time want +countenance. Farewell: you shall find me in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +Farewell, thou latter spring! farewell, All-hallown summer! + +Exit Falstaff + +POINS +Now, my good sweet honey lord, ride with us +to-morrow: I have a jest to execute that I cannot +manage alone. Falstaff, Bardolph, Peto and Gadshill +shall rob those men that we have already waylaid: +yourself and I will not be there; and when they +have the booty, if you and I do not rob them, cut +this head off from my shoulders. + +PRINCE HENRY +How shall we part with them in setting forth? + +POINS +Why, we will set forth before or after them, and +appoint them a place of meeting, wherein it is at +our pleasure to fail, and then will they adventure +upon the exploit themselves; which they shall have +no sooner achieved, but we'll set upon them. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but 'tis like that they will know us by our +horses, by our habits and by every other +appointment, to be ourselves. + +POINS +Tut! our horses they shall not see: I'll tie them +in the wood; our vizards we will change after we +leave them: and, sirrah, I have cases of buckram +for the nonce, to immask our noted outward garments. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yea, but I doubt they will be too hard for us. + +POINS +Well, for two of them, I know them to be as +true-bred cowards as ever turned back; and for the +third, if he fight longer than he sees reason, I'll +forswear arms. The virtue of this jest will be, the +incomprehensible lies that this same fat rogue will +tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at +least, he fought with; what wards, what blows, what +extremities he endured; and in the reproof of this +lies the jest. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, I'll go with thee: provide us all things +necessary and meet me to-morrow night in Eastcheap; +there I'll sup. Farewell. + +POINS +Farewell, my lord. + +Exit Poins + +PRINCE HENRY +I know you all, and will awhile uphold +The unyoked humour of your idleness: +Yet herein will I imitate the sun, +Who doth permit the base contagious clouds +To smother up his beauty from the world, +That, when he please again to be himself, +Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at, +By breaking through the foul and ugly mists +Of vapours that did seem to strangle him. +If all the year were playing holidays, +To sport would be as tedious as to work; +But when they seldom come, they wish'd for come, +And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. +So, when this loose behavior I throw off +And pay the debt I never promised, +By how much better than my word I am, +By so much shall I falsify men's hopes; +And like bright metal on a sullen ground, +My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, +Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes +Than that which hath no foil to set it off. +I'll so offend, to make offence a skill; +Redeeming time when men think least I will. + +Exit + +SCENE III. London. The palace. + +Enter the KING, NORTHUMBERLAND, WORCESTER, HOTSPUR, SIR WALTER BLUNT, with others +KING HENRY IV +My blood hath been too cold and temperate, +Unapt to stir at these indignities, +And you have found me; for accordingly +You tread upon my patience: but be sure +I will from henceforth rather be myself, +Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition; +Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, +And therefore lost that title of respect +Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Our house, my sovereign liege, little deserves +The scourge of greatness to be used on it; +And that same greatness too which our own hands +Have holp to make so portly. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord.-- + +KING HENRY IV +Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see +Danger and disobedience in thine eye: +O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, +And majesty might never yet endure +The moody frontier of a servant brow. +You have good leave to leave us: when we need +Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. + +Exit Worcester + +You were about to speak. + +To North + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, my good lord. +Those prisoners in your highness' name demanded, +Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took, +Were, as he says, not with such strength denied +As is deliver'd to your majesty: +Either envy, therefore, or misprison +Is guilty of this fault and not my son. + +HOTSPUR +My liege, I did deny no prisoners. +But I remember, when the fight was done, +When I was dry with rage and extreme toil, +Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword, +Came there a certain lord, neat, and trimly dress'd, +Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd +Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home; +He was perfumed like a milliner; +And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held +A pouncet-box, which ever and anon +He gave his nose and took't away again; +Who therewith angry, when it next came there, +Took it in snuff; and still he smiled and talk'd, +And as the soldiers bore dead bodies by, +He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly, +To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse +Betwixt the wind and his nobility. +With many holiday and lady terms +He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded +My prisoners in your majesty's behalf. +I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold, +To be so pester'd with a popinjay, +Out of my grief and my impatience, +Answer'd neglectingly I know not what, +He should or he should not; for he made me mad +To see him shine so brisk and smell so sweet +And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman +Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!-- +And telling me the sovereign'st thing on earth +Was parmaceti for an inward bruise; +And that it was great pity, so it was, +This villanous salt-petre should be digg'd +Out of the bowels of the harmless earth, +Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd +So cowardly; and but for these vile guns, +He would himself have been a soldier. +This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord, +I answer'd indirectly, as I said; +And I beseech you, let not his report +Come current for an accusation +Betwixt my love and your high majesty. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +The circumstance consider'd, good my lord, +Whate'er Lord Harry Percy then had said +To such a person and in such a place, +At such a time, with all the rest retold, +May reasonably die and never rise +To do him wrong or any way impeach +What then he said, so he unsay it now. + +KING HENRY IV +Why, yet he doth deny his prisoners, +But with proviso and exception, +That we at our own charge shall ransom straight +His brother-in-law, the foolish Mortimer; +Who, on my soul, hath wilfully betray'd +The lives of those that he did lead to fight +Against that great magician, damn'd Glendower, +Whose daughter, as we hear, the Earl of March +Hath lately married. Shall our coffers, then, +Be emptied to redeem a traitor home? +Shall we but treason? and indent with fears, +When they have lost and forfeited themselves? +No, on the barren mountains let him starve; +For I shall never hold that man my friend +Whose tongue shall ask me for one penny cost +To ransom home revolted Mortimer. + +HOTSPUR +Revolted Mortimer! +He never did fall off, my sovereign liege, +But by the chance of war; to prove that true +Needs no more but one tongue for all those wounds, +Those mouthed wounds, which valiantly he took +When on the gentle Severn's sedgy bank, +In single opposition, hand to hand, +He did confound the best part of an hour +In changing hardiment with great Glendower: +Three times they breathed and three times did +they drink, +Upon agreement, of swift Severn's flood; +Who then, affrighted with their bloody looks, +Ran fearfully among the trembling reeds, +And hid his crisp head in the hollow bank, +Bloodstained with these valiant combatants. +Never did base and rotten policy +Colour her working with such deadly wounds; +Nor could the noble Mortimer +Receive so many, and all willingly: +Then let not him be slander'd with revolt. + +KING HENRY IV +Thou dost belie him, Percy, thou dost belie him; +He never did encounter with Glendower: +I tell thee, +He durst as well have met the devil alone +As Owen Glendower for an enemy. +Art thou not ashamed? But, sirrah, henceforth +Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer: +Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, +Or you shall hear in such a kind from me +As will displease you. My Lord Northumberland, +We licence your departure with your son. +Send us your prisoners, or you will hear of it. + +Exeunt King Henry, Blunt, and train + +HOTSPUR +An if the devil come and roar for them, +I will not send them: I will after straight +And tell him so; for I will ease my heart, +Albeit I make a hazard of my head. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What, drunk with choler? stay and pause awhile: +Here comes your uncle. + +Re-enter WORCESTER + +HOTSPUR +Speak of Mortimer! +'Zounds, I will speak of him; and let my soul +Want mercy, if I do not join with him: +Yea, on his part I'll empty all these veins, +And shed my dear blood drop by drop in the dust, +But I will lift the down-trod Mortimer +As high in the air as this unthankful king, +As this ingrate and canker'd Bolingbroke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Brother, the king hath made your nephew mad. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Who struck this heat up after I was gone? + +HOTSPUR +He will, forsooth, have all my prisoners; +And when I urged the ransom once again +Of my wife's brother, then his cheek look'd pale, +And on my face he turn'd an eye of death, +Trembling even at the name of Mortimer. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +I cannot blame him: was not he proclaim'd +By Richard that dead is the next of blood? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He was; I heard the proclamation: +And then it was when the unhappy king, +--Whose wrongs in us God pardon!--did set forth +Upon his Irish expedition; +From whence he intercepted did return +To be deposed and shortly murdered. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And for whose death we in the world's wide mouth +Live scandalized and foully spoken of. + +HOTSPUR +But soft, I pray you; did King Richard then +Proclaim my brother Edmund Mortimer +Heir to the crown? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +He did; myself did hear it. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, then I cannot blame his cousin king, +That wished him on the barren mountains starve. +But shall it be that you, that set the crown +Upon the head of this forgetful man +And for his sake wear the detested blot +Of murderous subornation, shall it be, +That you a world of curses undergo, +Being the agents, or base second means, +The cords, the ladder, or the hangman rather? +O, pardon me that I descend so low, +To show the line and the predicament +Wherein you range under this subtle king; +Shall it for shame be spoken in these days, +Or fill up chronicles in time to come, +That men of your nobility and power +Did gage them both in an unjust behalf, +As both of you--God pardon it!--have done, +To put down Richard, that sweet lovely rose, +An plant this thorn, this canker, Bolingbroke? +And shall it in more shame be further spoken, +That you are fool'd, discarded and shook off +By him for whom these shames ye underwent? +No; yet time serves wherein you may redeem +Your banish'd honours and restore yourselves +Into the good thoughts of the world again, +Revenge the jeering and disdain'd contempt +Of this proud king, who studies day and night +To answer all the debt he owes to you +Even with the bloody payment of your deaths: +Therefore, I say-- + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Peace, cousin, say no more: +And now I will unclasp a secret book, +And to your quick-conceiving discontents +I'll read you matter deep and dangerous, +As full of peril and adventurous spirit +As to o'er-walk a current roaring loud +On the unsteadfast footing of a spear. + +HOTSPUR +If he fall in, good night! or sink or swim: +Send danger from the east unto the west, +So honour cross it from the north to south, +And let them grapple: O, the blood more stirs +To rouse a lion than to start a hare! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Imagination of some great exploit +Drives him beyond the bounds of patience. + +HOTSPUR +By heaven, methinks it were an easy leap, +To pluck bright honour from the pale-faced moon, +Or dive into the bottom of the deep, +Where fathom-line could never touch the ground, +And pluck up drowned honour by the locks; +So he that doth redeem her thence might wear +Without corrival, all her dignities: +But out upon this half-faced fellowship! + +EARL OF WORCESTER +He apprehends a world of figures here, +But not the form of what he should attend. +Good cousin, give me audience for a while. + +HOTSPUR +I cry you mercy. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Those same noble Scots +That are your prisoners,-- + +HOTSPUR +I'll keep them all; +By God, he shall not have a Scot of them; +No, if a Scot would save his soul, he shall not: +I'll keep them, by this hand. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +You start away +And lend no ear unto my purposes. +Those prisoners you shall keep. + +HOTSPUR +Nay, I will; that's flat: +He said he would not ransom Mortimer; +Forbad my tongue to speak of Mortimer; +But I will find him when he lies asleep, +And in his ear I'll holla 'Mortimer!' +Nay, +I'll have a starling shall be taught to speak +Nothing but 'Mortimer,' and give it him +To keep his anger still in motion. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Hear you, cousin; a word. + +HOTSPUR +All studies here I solemnly defy, +Save how to gall and pinch this Bolingbroke: +And that same sword-and-buckler Prince of Wales, +But that I think his father loves him not +And would be glad he met with some mischance, +I would have him poison'd with a pot of ale. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Farewell, kinsman: I'll talk to you +When you are better temper'd to attend. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, what a wasp-stung and impatient fool +Art thou to break into this woman's mood, +Tying thine ear to no tongue but thine own! + +HOTSPUR +Why, look you, I am whipp'd and scourged with rods, +Nettled and stung with pismires, when I hear +Of this vile politician, Bolingbroke. +In Richard's time,--what do you call the place?-- +A plague upon it, it is in Gloucestershire; +'Twas where the madcap duke his uncle kept, +His uncle York; where I first bow'd my knee +Unto this king of smiles, this Bolingbroke,-- +'Sblood!-- +When you and he came back from Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +At Berkley castle. + +HOTSPUR +You say true: +Why, what a candy deal of courtesy +This fawning greyhound then did proffer me! +Look,'when his infant fortune came to age,' +And 'gentle Harry Percy,' and 'kind cousin;' +O, the devil take such cozeners! God forgive me! +Good uncle, tell your tale; I have done. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Nay, if you have not, to it again; +We will stay your leisure. + +HOTSPUR +I have done, i' faith. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Then once more to your Scottish prisoners. +Deliver them up without their ransom straight, +And make the Douglas' son your only mean +For powers in Scotland; which, for divers reasons +Which I shall send you written, be assured, +Will easily be granted. You, my lord, + +To Northumberland + +Your son in Scotland being thus employ'd, +Shall secretly into the bosom creep +Of that same noble prelate, well beloved, +The archbishop. + +HOTSPUR +Of York, is it not? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +True; who bears hard +His brother's death at Bristol, the Lord Scroop. +I speak not this in estimation, +As what I think might be, but what I know +Is ruminated, plotted and set down, +And only stays but to behold the face +Of that occasion that shall bring it on. + +HOTSPUR +I smell it: upon my life, it will do well. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Before the game is afoot, thou still let'st slip. + +HOTSPUR +Why, it cannot choose but be a noble plot; +And then the power of Scotland and of York, +To join with Mortimer, ha? + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And so they shall. + +HOTSPUR +In faith, it is exceedingly well aim'd. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +And 'tis no little reason bids us speed, +To save our heads by raising of a head; +For, bear ourselves as even as we can, +The king will always think him in our debt, +And think we think ourselves unsatisfied, +Till he hath found a time to pay us home: +And see already how he doth begin +To make us strangers to his looks of love. + +HOTSPUR +He does, he does: we'll be revenged on him. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Cousin, farewell: no further go in this +Than I by letters shall direct your course. +When time is ripe, which will be suddenly, +I'll steal to Glendower and Lord Mortimer; +Where you and Douglas and our powers at once, +As I will fashion it, shall happily meet, +To bear our fortunes in our own strong arms, +Which now we hold at much uncertainty. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Farewell, good brother: we shall thrive, I trust. + +HOTSPUR +Uncle, Adieu: O, let the hours be short +Till fields and blows and groans applaud our sport! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rochester. An inn yard. + +Enter a Carrier with a lantern in his hand +First Carrier +Heigh-ho! an it be not four by the day, I'll be +hanged: Charles' wain is over the new chimney, and +yet our horse not packed. What, ostler! + +Ostler +[Within] Anon, anon. + +First Carrier +I prithee, Tom, beat Cut's saddle, put a few flocks +in the point; poor jade, is wrung in the withers out +of all cess. + +Enter another Carrier + +Second Carrier +Peas and beans are as dank here as a dog, and that +is the next way to give poor jades the bots: this +house is turned upside down since Robin Ostler died. + +First Carrier +Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of oats +rose; it was the death of him. + +Second Carrier +I think this be the most villanous house in all +London road for fleas: I am stung like a tench. + +First Carrier +Like a tench! by the mass, there is ne'er a king +christen could be better bit than I have been since +the first cock. + +Second Carrier +Why, they will allow us ne'er a jordan, and then we +leak in your chimney; and your chamber-lie breeds +fleas like a loach. + +First Carrier +What, ostler! come away and be hanged! + +Second Carrier +I have a gammon of bacon and two razors of ginger, +to be delivered as far as Charing-cross. + +First Carrier +God's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite +starved. What, ostler! A plague on thee! hast thou +never an eye in thy head? canst not hear? An +'twere not as good deed as drink, to break the pate +on thee, I am a very villain. Come, and be hanged! +hast thou no faith in thee? + +Enter GADSHILL + +GADSHILL +Good morrow, carriers. What's o'clock? + +First Carrier +I think it be two o'clock. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee lend me thy lantern, to see my gelding +in the stable. + +First Carrier +Nay, by God, soft; I know a trick worth two of that, i' faith. + +GADSHILL +I pray thee, lend me thine. + +Second Carrier +Ay, when? can'st tell? Lend me thy lantern, quoth +he? marry, I'll see thee hanged first. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah carrier, what time do you mean to come to London? + +Second Carrier +Time enough to go to bed with a candle, I warrant +thee. Come, neighbour Mugs, we'll call up the +gentleman: they will along with company, for they +have great charge. + +Exeunt carriers + +GADSHILL +What, ho! chamberlain! + +Chamberlain +[Within] At hand, quoth pick-purse. + +GADSHILL +That's even as fair as--at hand, quoth the +chamberlain; for thou variest no more from picking +of purses than giving direction doth from labouring; +thou layest the plot how. + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, Master Gadshill. It holds current that +I told you yesternight: there's a franklin in the +wild of Kent hath brought three hundred marks with +him in gold: I heard him tell it to one of his +company last night at supper; a kind of auditor; one +that hath abundance of charge too, God knows what. +They are up already, and call for eggs and butter; +they will away presently. + +GADSHILL +Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas' +clerks, I'll give thee this neck. + +Chamberlain +No, I'll none of it: I pray thee keep that for the +hangman; for I know thou worshippest St. Nicholas +as truly as a man of falsehood may. + +GADSHILL +What talkest thou to me of the hangman? if I hang, +I'll make a fat pair of gallows; for if I hang, old +Sir John hangs with me, and thou knowest he is no +starveling. Tut! there are other Trojans that thou +dreamest not of, the which for sport sake are +content to do the profession some grace; that would, +if matters should be looked into, for their own +credit sake, make all whole. I am joined with no +foot-land rakers, no long-staff sixpenny strikers, +none of these mad mustachio purple-hued malt-worms; +but with nobility and tranquillity, burgomasters and +great oneyers, such as can hold in, such as will +strike sooner than speak, and speak sooner than +drink, and drink sooner than pray: and yet, zounds, +I lie; for they pray continually to their saint, the +commonwealth; or rather, not pray to her, but prey +on her, for they ride up and down on her and make +her their boots. + +Chamberlain +What, the commonwealth their boots? will she hold +out water in foul way? + +GADSHILL +She will, she will; justice hath liquored her. We +steal as in a castle, cocksure; we have the receipt +of fern-seed, we walk invisible. + +Chamberlain +Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to +the night than to fern-seed for your walking invisible. + +GADSHILL +Give me thy hand: thou shalt have a share in our +purchase, as I am a true man. + +Chamberlain +Nay, rather let me have it, as you are a false thief. + +GADSHILL +Go to; 'homo' is a common name to all men. Bid the +ostler bring my gelding out of the stable. Farewell, +you muddy knave. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The highway, near Gadshill. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +POINS +Come, shelter, shelter: I have removed Falstaff's +horse, and he frets like a gummed velvet. + +PRINCE HENRY +Stand close. + +Enter FALSTAFF + +FALSTAFF +Poins! Poins, and be hanged! Poins! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-kidneyed rascal! what a brawling dost +thou keep! + +FALSTAFF +Where's Poins, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +He is walked up to the top of the hill: I'll go seek him. + +FALSTAFF +I am accursed to rob in that thief's company: the +rascal hath removed my horse, and tied him I know +not where. If I travel but four foot by the squier +further afoot, I shall break my wind. Well, I doubt +not but to die a fair death for all this, if I +'scape hanging for killing that rogue. I have +forsworn his company hourly any time this two and +twenty years, and yet I am bewitched with the +rogue's company. If the rascal hath not given me +medicines to make me love him, I'll be hanged; it +could not be else: I have drunk medicines. Poins! +Hal! a plague upon you both! Bardolph! Peto! +I'll starve ere I'll rob a foot further. An 'twere +not as good a deed as drink, to turn true man and to +leave these rogues, I am the veriest varlet that +ever chewed with a tooth. Eight yards of uneven +ground is threescore and ten miles afoot with me; +and the stony-hearted villains know it well enough: +a plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another! + +They whistle + +Whew! A plague upon you all! Give me my horse, you +rogues; give me my horse, and be hanged! + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace, ye fat-guts! lie down; lay thine ear close +to the ground and list if thou canst hear the tread +of travellers. + +FALSTAFF +Have you any levers to lift me up again, being down? +'Sblood, I'll not bear mine own flesh so far afoot +again for all the coin in thy father's exchequer. +What a plague mean ye to colt me thus? + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou liest; thou art not colted, thou art uncolted. + +FALSTAFF +I prithee, good Prince Hal, help me to my horse, +good king's son. + +PRINCE HENRY +Out, ye rogue! shall I be your ostler? + +FALSTAFF +Go, hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent +garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I +have not ballads made on you all and sung to filthy +tunes, let a cup of sack be my poison: when a jest +is so forward, and afoot too! I hate it. + +Enter GADSHILL, BARDOLPH and PETO + +GADSHILL +Stand. + +FALSTAFF +So I do, against my will. + +POINS +O, 'tis our setter: I know his voice. Bardolph, +what news? + +BARDOLPH +Case ye, case ye; on with your vizards: there 's +money of the king's coming down the hill; 'tis going +to the king's exchequer. + +FALSTAFF +You lie, ye rogue; 'tis going to the king's tavern. + +GADSHILL +There's enough to make us all. + +FALSTAFF +To be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirs, you four shall front them in the narrow lane; +Ned Poins and I will walk lower: if they 'scape +from your encounter, then they light on us. + +PETO +How many be there of them? + +GADSHILL +Some eight or ten. + +FALSTAFF +'Zounds, will they not rob us? + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a coward, Sir John Paunch? + +FALSTAFF +Indeed, I am not John of Gaunt, your grandfather; +but yet no coward, Hal. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, we leave that to the proof. + +POINS +Sirrah Jack, thy horse stands behind the hedge: +when thou needest him, there thou shalt find him. +Farewell, and stand fast. + +FALSTAFF +Now cannot I strike him, if I should be hanged. + +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, where are our disguises? + +POINS +Here, hard by: stand close. + +Exeunt PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +FALSTAFF +Now, my masters, happy man be his dole, say I: +every man to his business. + +Enter the Travellers + +First Traveller +Come, neighbour: the boy shall lead our horses down +the hill; we'll walk afoot awhile, and ease our legs. + +Thieves +Stand! + +Travellers +Jesus bless us! + +FALSTAFF +Strike; down with them; cut the villains' throats: +ah! whoreson caterpillars! bacon-fed knaves! they +hate us youth: down with them: fleece them. + +Travellers +O, we are undone, both we and ours for ever! + +FALSTAFF +Hang ye, gorbellied knaves, are ye undone? No, ye +fat chuffs: I would your store were here! On, +bacons, on! What, ye knaves! young men must live. +You are Grand-jurors, are ye? we'll jure ye, 'faith. + +Here they rob them and bind them. Exeunt + +Re-enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS + +PRINCE HENRY +The thieves have bound the true men. Now could thou +and I rob the thieves and go merrily to London, it +would be argument for a week, laughter for a month +and a good jest for ever. + +POINS +Stand close; I hear them coming. + +Enter the Thieves again + +FALSTAFF +Come, my masters, let us share, and then to horse +before day. An the Prince and Poins be not two +arrant cowards, there's no equity stirring: there's +no more valour in that Poins than in a wild-duck. + +PRINCE HENRY +Your money! + +POINS +Villains! + +As they are sharing, the Prince and Poins set upon them; they all run away; and Falstaff, after a blow or two, runs away too, leaving the booty behind them + +PRINCE HENRY +Got with much ease. Now merrily to horse: +The thieves are all scatter'd and possess'd with fear +So strongly that they dare not meet each other; +Each takes his fellow for an officer. +Away, good Ned. Falstaff sweats to death, +And lards the lean earth as he walks along: +Were 't not for laughing, I should pity him. + +POINS +How the rogue roar'd! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth castle + +Enter HOTSPUR, solus, reading a letter +HOTSPUR +'But for mine own part, my lord, I could be well +contented to be there, in respect of the love I bear +your house.' He could be contented: why is he not, +then? In respect of the love he bears our house: +he shows in this, he loves his own barn better than +he loves our house. Let me see some more. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous;'--why, that's +certain: 'tis dangerous to take a cold, to sleep, to +drink; but I tell you, my lord fool, out of this +nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety. 'The +purpose you undertake is dangerous; the friends you +have named uncertain; the time itself unsorted; and +your whole plot too light for the counterpoise of so +great an opposition.' Say you so, say you so? I say +unto you again, you are a shallow cowardly hind, and +you lie. What a lack-brain is this! By the Lord, +our plot is a good plot as ever was laid; our +friends true and constant: a good plot, good +friends, and full of expectation; an excellent plot, +very good friends. What a frosty-spirited rogue is +this! Why, my lord of York commends the plot and the +general course of action. 'Zounds, an I were now by +this rascal, I could brain him with his lady's fan. +Is there not my father, my uncle and myself? lord +Edmund Mortimer, My lord of York and Owen Glendower? +is there not besides the Douglas? have I not all +their letters to meet me in arms by the ninth of the +next month? and are they not some of them set +forward already? What a pagan rascal is this! an +infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity +of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay +open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself +and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of +skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! +let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set +forward to-night. + +Enter LADY PERCY + +How now, Kate! I must leave you within these two hours. + +LADY PERCY +O, my good lord, why are you thus alone? +For what offence have I this fortnight been +A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed? +Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee +Thy stomach, pleasure and thy golden sleep? +Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth, +And start so often when thou sit'st alone? +Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks; +And given my treasures and my rights of thee +To thick-eyed musing and cursed melancholy? +In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd, +And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars; +Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed; +Cry 'Courage! to the field!' And thou hast talk'd +Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents, +Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets, +Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin, +Of prisoners' ransom and of soldiers slain, +And all the currents of a heady fight. +Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war +And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep, +That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow +Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream; +And in thy face strange motions have appear'd, +Such as we see when men restrain their breath +On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these? +Some heavy business hath my lord in hand, +And I must know it, else he loves me not. + +HOTSPUR +What, ho! + +Enter Servant + +Is Gilliams with the packet gone? + +Servant +He is, my lord, an hour ago. + +HOTSPUR +Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff? + +Servant +One horse, my lord, he brought even now. + +HOTSPUR +What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not? + +Servant +It is, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +That roan shall by my throne. +Well, I will back him straight: O esperance! +Bid Butler lead him forth into the park. + +Exit Servant + +LADY PERCY +But hear you, my lord. + +HOTSPUR +What say'st thou, my lady? + +LADY PERCY +What is it carries you away? + +HOTSPUR +Why, my horse, my love, my horse. + +LADY PERCY +Out, you mad-headed ape! +A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen +As you are toss'd with. In faith, +I'll know your business, Harry, that I will. +I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir +About his title, and hath sent for you +To line his enterprise: but if you go,-- + +HOTSPUR +So far afoot, I shall be weary, love. + +LADY PERCY +Come, come, you paraquito, answer me +Directly unto this question that I ask: +In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry, +An if thou wilt not tell me all things true. + +HOTSPUR +Away, +Away, you trifler! Love! I love thee not, +I care not for thee, Kate: this is no world +To play with mammets and to tilt with lips: +We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns, +And pass them current too. God's me, my horse! +What say'st thou, Kate? what would'st thou +have with me? + +LADY PERCY +Do you not love me? do you not, indeed? +Well, do not then; for since you love me not, +I will not love myself. Do you not love me? +Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no. + +HOTSPUR +Come, wilt thou see me ride? +And when I am on horseback, I will swear +I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate; +I must not have you henceforth question me +Whither I go, nor reason whereabout: +Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude, +This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate. +I know you wise, but yet no farther wise +Than Harry Percy's wife: constant you are, +But yet a woman: and for secrecy, +No lady closer; for I well believe +Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know; +And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate. + +LADY PERCY +How! so far? + +HOTSPUR +Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate: +Whither I go, thither shall you go too; +To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you. +Will this content you, Kate? + +LADY PERCY +It must of force. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The Boar's-Head Tavern, Eastcheap. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Ned, prithee, come out of that fat room, and lend me +thy hand to laugh a little. + +POINS +Where hast been, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four +score hogsheads. I have sounded the very +base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother +to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by +their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. +They take it already upon their salvation, that +though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king +of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, +like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a +good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I +am king of England, I shall command all the good +lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing +scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they +cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I +am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, +that I can drink with any tinker in his own language +during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost +much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet +action. But, sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of +Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped +even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that +never spake other English in his life than 'Eight +shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with +this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint +of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to +drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, +do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my +puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do +thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale +to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and +I'll show thee a precedent. + +POINS +Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Thou art perfect. + +POINS +Francis! + +Exit POINS + +Enter FRANCIS + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. Look down into the Pomgarnet, Ralph. + +PRINCE HENRY +Come hither, Francis. + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +How long hast thou to serve, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Forsooth, five years, and as much as to-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Five year! by'r lady, a long lease for the clinking +of pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant +as to play the coward with thy indenture and show it +a fair pair of heels and run from it? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in +England, I could find in my heart. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +How old art thou, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Let me see--about Michaelmas next I shall be-- + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, sir. Pray stay a little, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, but hark you, Francis: for the sugar thou +gavest me,'twas a pennyworth, wast't not? + +FRANCIS +O Lord, I would it had been two! + +PRINCE HENRY +I will give thee for it a thousand pound: ask me +when thou wilt, and thou shalt have it. + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon. + +PRINCE HENRY +Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; +or, Francis, o' Thursday; or indeed, Francis, when +thou wilt. But, Francis! + +FRANCIS +My lord? + +PRINCE HENRY +Wilt thou rob this leathern jerkin, crystal-button, +not-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter, +smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,-- + +FRANCIS +O Lord, sir, who do you mean? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; +for look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet +will sully: in Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much. + +FRANCIS +What, sir? + +POINS +[Within] Francis! + +PRINCE HENRY +Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call? + +Here they both call him; the drawer stands amazed, not knowing which way to go + +Enter Vintner + +Vintner +What, standest thou still, and hearest such a +calling? Look to the guests within. + +Exit Francis + +My lord, old Sir John, with half-a-dozen more, are +at the door: shall I let them in? + +PRINCE HENRY +Let them alone awhile, and then open the door. + +Exit Vintner + +Poins! + +Re-enter POINS + +POINS +Anon, anon, sir. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at +the door: shall we be merry? + +POINS +As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what +cunning match have you made with this jest of the +drawer? come, what's the issue? + +PRINCE HENRY +I am now of all humours that have showed themselves +humours since the old days of goodman Adam to the +pupil age of this present twelve o'clock at midnight. + +Re-enter FRANCIS + +What's o'clock, Francis? + +FRANCIS +Anon, anon, sir. + +Exit + +PRINCE HENRY +That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a +parrot, and yet the son of a woman! His industry is +upstairs and downstairs; his eloquence the parcel of +a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's mind, the +Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some six or +seven dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his +hands, and says to his wife 'Fie upon this quiet +life! I want work.' 'O my sweet Harry,' says she, +'how many hast thou killed to-day?' 'Give my roan +horse a drench,' says he; and answers 'Some +fourteen,' an hour after; 'a trifle, a trifle.' I +prithee, call in Falstaff: I'll play Percy, and +that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his +wife. 'Rivo!' says the drunkard. Call in ribs, call in tallow. + +Enter FALSTAFF, GADSHILL, BARDOLPH, and PETO; FRANCIS following with wine + +POINS +Welcome, Jack: where hast thou been? + +FALSTAFF +A plague of all cowards, I say, and a vengeance too! +marry, and amen! Give me a cup of sack, boy. Ere I +lead this life long, I'll sew nether stocks and mend +them and foot them too. A plague of all cowards! +Give me a cup of sack, rogue. Is there no virtue extant? + +He drinks + +PRINCE HENRY +Didst thou never see Titan kiss a dish of butter? +pitiful-hearted Titan, that melted at the sweet tale +of the sun's! if thou didst, then behold that compound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, here's lime in this sack too: there is +nothing but roguery to be found in villanous man: +yet a coward is worse than a cup of sack with lime +in it. A villanous coward! Go thy ways, old Jack; +die when thou wilt, if manhood, good manhood, be +not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a +shotten herring. There live not three good men +unhanged in England; and one of them is fat and +grows old: God help the while! a bad world, I say. +I would I were a weaver; I could sing psalms or any +thing. A plague of all cowards, I say still. + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, wool-sack! what mutter you? + +FALSTAFF +A king's son! If I do not beat thee out of thy +kingdom with a dagger of lath, and drive all thy +subjects afore thee like a flock of wild-geese, +I'll never wear hair on my face more. You Prince of Wales! + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, you whoreson round man, what's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Are not you a coward? answer me to that: and Poins there? + +POINS +'Zounds, ye fat paunch, an ye call me coward, by the +Lord, I'll stab thee. + +FALSTAFF +I call thee coward! I'll see thee damned ere I call +thee coward: but I would give a thousand pound I +could run as fast as thou canst. You are straight +enough in the shoulders, you care not who sees your +back: call you that backing of your friends? A +plague upon such backing! give me them that will +face me. Give me a cup of sack: I am a rogue, if I +drunk to-day. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain! thy lips are scarce wiped since thou +drunkest last. + +FALSTAFF +All's one for that. + +He drinks + +A plague of all cowards, still say I. + +PRINCE HENRY +What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +What's the matter! there be four of us here have +ta'en a thousand pound this day morning. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where is it, Jack? where is it? + +FALSTAFF +Where is it! taken from us it is: a hundred upon +poor four of us. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, a hundred, man? + +FALSTAFF +I am a rogue, if I were not at half-sword with a +dozen of them two hours together. I have 'scaped by +miracle. I am eight times thrust through the +doublet, four through the hose; my buckler cut +through and through; my sword hacked like a +hand-saw--ecce signum! I never dealt better since +I was a man: all would not do. A plague of all +cowards! Let them speak: if they speak more or +less than truth, they are villains and the sons of darkness. + +PRINCE HENRY +Speak, sirs; how was it? + +GADSHILL +We four set upon some dozen-- + +FALSTAFF +Sixteen at least, my lord. + +GADSHILL +And bound them. + +PETO +No, no, they were not bound. + +FALSTAFF +You rogue, they were bound, every man of them; or I +am a Jew else, an Ebrew Jew. + +GADSHILL +As we were sharing, some six or seven fresh men set upon us-- + +FALSTAFF +And unbound the rest, and then come in the other. + +PRINCE HENRY +What, fought you with them all? + +FALSTAFF +All! I know not what you call all; but if I fought +not with fifty of them, I am a bunch of radish: if +there were not two or three and fifty upon poor old +Jack, then am I no two-legged creature. + +PRINCE HENRY +Pray God you have not murdered some of them. + +FALSTAFF +Nay, that's past praying for: I have peppered two +of them; two I am sure I have paid, two rogues +in buckram suits. I tell thee what, Hal, if I tell +thee a lie, spit in my face, call me horse. Thou +knowest my old ward; here I lay and thus I bore my +point. Four rogues in buckram let drive at me-- + +PRINCE HENRY +What, four? thou saidst but two even now. + +FALSTAFF +Four, Hal; I told thee four. + +POINS +Ay, ay, he said four. + +FALSTAFF +These four came all a-front, and mainly thrust at +me. I made me no more ado but took all their seven +points in my target, thus. + +PRINCE HENRY +Seven? why, there were but four even now. + +FALSTAFF +In buckram? + +POINS +Ay, four, in buckram suits. + +FALSTAFF +Seven, by these hilts, or I am a villain else. + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, let him alone; we shall have more anon. + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear me, Hal? + +PRINCE HENRY +Ay, and mark thee too, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +Do so, for it is worth the listening to. These nine +in buckram that I told thee of-- + +PRINCE HENRY +So, two more already. + +FALSTAFF +Their points being broken,-- + +POINS +Down fell their hose. + +FALSTAFF +Began to give me ground: but I followed me close, +came in foot and hand; and with a thought seven of +the eleven I paid. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two! + +FALSTAFF +But, as the devil would have it, three misbegotten +knaves in Kendal green came at my back and let drive +at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst +not see thy hand. + +PRINCE HENRY +These lies are like their father that begets them; +gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou +clay-brained guts, thou knotty-pated fool, thou +whoreson, obscene, grease tallow-catch,-- + +FALSTAFF +What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth +the truth? + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal +green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy +hand? come, tell us your reason: what sayest thou to this? + +POINS +Come, your reason, Jack, your reason. + +FALSTAFF +What, upon compulsion? 'Zounds, an I were at the +strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would +not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason on +compulsion! If reasons were as plentiful as +blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon +compulsion, I. + +PRINCE HENRY +I'll be no longer guilty of this sin; this sanguine +coward, this bed-presser, this horseback-breaker, +this huge hill of flesh,-- + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, you starveling, you elf-skin, you dried +neat's tongue, you bull's pizzle, you stock-fish! O +for breath to utter what is like thee! you +tailor's-yard, you sheath, you bowcase; you vile +standing-tuck,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again: and +when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, +hear me speak but this. + +POINS +Mark, Jack. + +PRINCE HENRY +We two saw you four set on four and bound them, and +were masters of their wealth. Mark now, how a plain +tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you +four; and, with a word, out-faced you from your +prize, and have it; yea, and can show it you here in +the house: and, Falstaff, you carried your guts +away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared +for mercy and still run and roared, as ever I heard +bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword +as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight! +What trick, what device, what starting-hole, canst +thou now find out to hide thee from this open and +apparent shame? + +POINS +Come, let's hear, Jack; what trick hast thou now? + +FALSTAFF +By the Lord, I knew ye as well as he that made ye. +Why, hear you, my masters: was it for me to kill the +heir-apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? +why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules: but +beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true +prince. Instinct is a great matter; I was now a +coward on instinct. I shall think the better of +myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant +lion, and thou for a true prince. But, by the Lord, +lads, I am glad you have the money. Hostess, clap +to the doors: watch to-night, pray to-morrow. +Gallants, lads, boys, hearts of gold, all the titles +of good fellowship come to you! What, shall we be +merry? shall we have a play extempore? + +PRINCE HENRY +Content; and the argument shall be thy running away. + +FALSTAFF +Ah, no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me! + +Enter Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord the prince! + +PRINCE HENRY +How now, my lady the hostess! what sayest thou to +me? + +Hostess +Marry, my lord, there is a nobleman of the court at +door would speak with you: he says he comes from +your father. + +PRINCE HENRY +Give him as much as will make him a royal man, and +send him back again to my mother. + +FALSTAFF +What manner of man is he? + +Hostess +An old man. + +FALSTAFF +What doth gravity out of his bed at midnight? Shall +I give him his answer? + +PRINCE HENRY +Prithee, do, Jack. + +FALSTAFF +'Faith, and I'll send him packing. + +Exit FALSTAFF + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, sirs: by'r lady, you fought fair; so did you, +Peto; so did you, Bardolph: you are lions too, you +ran away upon instinct, you will not touch the true +prince; no, fie! + +BARDOLPH +'Faith, I ran when I saw others run. + +PRINCE HENRY +'Faith, tell me now in earnest, how came Falstaff's +sword so hacked? + +PETO +Why, he hacked it with his dagger, and said he would +swear truth out of England but he would make you +believe it was done in fight, and persuaded us to do the like. + +BARDOLPH +Yea, and to tickle our noses with spear-grass to +make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments +with it and swear it was the blood of true men. I +did that I did not this seven year before, I blushed +to hear his monstrous devices. + +PRINCE HENRY +O villain, thou stolest a cup of sack eighteen years +ago, and wert taken with the manner, and ever since +thou hast blushed extempore. Thou hadst fire and +sword on thy side, and yet thou rannest away: what +instinct hadst thou for it? + +BARDOLPH +My lord, do you see these meteors? do you behold +these exhalations? + +PRINCE HENRY +I do. + +BARDOLPH +What think you they portend? + +PRINCE HENRY +Hot livers and cold purses. + +BARDOLPH +Choler, my lord, if rightly taken. + +PRINCE HENRY +No, if rightly taken, halter. + +Re-enter FALSTAFF + +Here comes lean Jack, here comes bare-bone. +How now, my sweet creature of bombast! +How long is't ago, Jack, since thou sawest thine own knee? + +FALSTAFF +My own knee! when I was about thy years, Hal, I was +not an eagle's talon in the waist; I could have +crept into any alderman's thumb-ring: a plague of +sighing and grief! it blows a man up like a +bladder. There's villanous news abroad: here was +Sir John Bracy from your father; you must to the +court in the morning. That same mad fellow of the +north, Percy, and he of Wales, that gave Amamon the +bastinado and made Lucifer cuckold and swore the +devil his true liegeman upon the cross of a Welsh +hook--what a plague call you him? + +POINS +O, Glendower. + +FALSTAFF +Owen, Owen, the same; and his son-in-law Mortimer, +and old Northumberland, and that sprightly Scot of +Scots, Douglas, that runs o' horseback up a hill +perpendicular,-- + +PRINCE HENRY +He that rides at high speed and with his pistol +kills a sparrow flying. + +FALSTAFF +You have hit it. + +PRINCE HENRY +So did he never the sparrow. + +FALSTAFF +Well, that rascal hath good mettle in him; he will not run. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, what a rascal art thou then, to praise him so +for running! + +FALSTAFF +O' horseback, ye cuckoo; but afoot he will not budge a foot. + +PRINCE HENRY +Yes, Jack, upon instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too, +and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more: +Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's +beard is turned white with the news: you may buy +land now as cheap as stinking mackerel. + +PRINCE HENRY +Why, then, it is like, if there come a hot June and +this civil buffeting hold, we shall buy maidenheads +as they buy hob-nails, by the hundreds. + +FALSTAFF +By the mass, lad, thou sayest true; it is like we +shall have good trading that way. But tell me, Hal, +art not thou horrible afeard? thou being +heir-apparent, could the world pick thee out three +such enemies again as that fiend Douglas, that +spirit Percy, and that devil Glendower? Art thou +not horribly afraid? doth not thy blood thrill at +it? + +PRINCE HENRY +Not a whit, i' faith; I lack some of thy instinct. + +FALSTAFF +Well, thou wert be horribly chid tomorrow when thou +comest to thy father: if thou love me, practise an answer. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do thou stand for my father, and examine me upon the +particulars of my life. + +FALSTAFF +Shall I? content: this chair shall be my state, +this dagger my sceptre, and this cushion my crown. + +PRINCE HENRY +Thy state is taken for a joined-stool, thy golden +sceptre for a leaden dagger, and thy precious rich +crown for a pitiful bald crown! + +FALSTAFF +Well, an the fire of grace be not quite out of thee, +now shalt thou be moved. Give me a cup of sack to +make my eyes look red, that it may be thought I have +wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it +in King Cambyses' vein. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here is my leg. + +FALSTAFF +And here is my speech. Stand aside, nobility. + +Hostess +O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i' faith! + +FALSTAFF +Weep not, sweet queen; for trickling tears are vain. + +Hostess +O, the father, how he holds his countenance! + +FALSTAFF +For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful queen; +For tears do stop the flood-gates of her eyes. + +Hostess +O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry +players as ever I see! + +FALSTAFF +Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain. +Harry, I do not only marvel where thou spendest thy +time, but also how thou art accompanied: for though +the camomile, the more it is trodden on the faster +it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted the +sooner it wears. That thou art my son, I have +partly thy mother's word, partly my own opinion, +but chiefly a villanous trick of thine eye and a +foolish-hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant +me. If then thou be son to me, here lies the point; +why, being son to me, art thou so pointed at? Shall +the blessed sun of heaven prove a micher and eat +blackberries? a question not to be asked. Shall +the sun of England prove a thief and take purses? a +question to be asked. There is a thing, Harry, +which thou hast often heard of and it is known to +many in our land by the name of pitch: this pitch, +as ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth +the company thou keepest: for, Harry, now I do not +speak to thee in drink but in tears, not in +pleasure but in passion, not in words only, but in +woes also: and yet there is a virtuous man whom I +have often noted in thy company, but I know not his name. + +PRINCE HENRY +What manner of man, an it like your majesty? + +FALSTAFF +A goodly portly man, i' faith, and a corpulent; of a +cheerful look, a pleasing eye and a most noble +carriage; and, as I think, his age some fifty, or, +by'r lady, inclining to three score; and now I +remember me, his name is Falstaff: if that man +should be lewdly given, he deceiveth me; for, Harry, +I see virtue in his looks. If then the tree may be +known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree, then, +peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that +Falstaff: him keep with, the rest banish. And tell +me now, thou naughty varlet, tell me, where hast +thou been this month? + +PRINCE HENRY +Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, +and I'll play my father. + +FALSTAFF +Depose me? if thou dost it half so gravely, so +majestically, both in word and matter, hang me up by +the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a poulter's hare. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, here I am set. + +FALSTAFF +And here I stand: judge, my masters. + +PRINCE HENRY +Now, Harry, whence come you? + +FALSTAFF +My noble lord, from Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +The complaints I hear of thee are grievous. + +FALSTAFF +'Sblood, my lord, they are false: nay, I'll tickle +ye for a young prince, i' faith. + +PRINCE HENRY +Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look +on me. Thou art violently carried away from grace: +there is a devil haunts thee in the likeness of an +old fat man; a tun of man is thy companion. Why +dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that +bolting-hutch of beastliness, that swollen parcel +of dropsies, that huge bombard of sack, that stuffed +cloak-bag of guts, that roasted Manningtree ox with +the pudding in his belly, that reverend vice, that +grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity in +years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and +drink it? wherein neat and cleanly, but to carve a +capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but in craft? +wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villanous, +but in all things? wherein worthy, but in nothing? + +FALSTAFF +I would your grace would take me with you: whom +means your grace? + +PRINCE HENRY +That villanous abominable misleader of youth, +Falstaff, that old white-bearded Satan. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, the man I know. + +PRINCE HENRY +I know thou dost. + +FALSTAFF +But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, +were to say more than I know. That he is old, the +more the pity, his white hairs do witness it; but +that he is, saving your reverence, a whoremaster, +that I utterly deny. If sack and sugar be a fault, +God help the wicked! if to be old and merry be a +sin, then many an old host that I know is damned: if +to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine +are to be loved. No, my good lord; banish Peto, +banish Bardolph, banish Poins: but for sweet Jack +Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff, +valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, +being, as he is, old Jack Falstaff, banish not him +thy Harry's company, banish not him thy Harry's +company: banish plump Jack, and banish all the world. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do, I will. + +A knocking heard + +Exeunt Hostess, FRANCIS, and BARDOLPH + +Re-enter BARDOLPH, running + +BARDOLPH +O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most +monstrous watch is at the door. + +FALSTAFF +Out, ye rogue! Play out the play: I have much to +say in the behalf of that Falstaff. + +Re-enter the Hostess + +Hostess +O Jesu, my lord, my lord! + +PRINCE HENRY +Heigh, heigh! the devil rides upon a fiddlestick: +what's the matter? + +Hostess +The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they +are come to search the house. Shall I let them in? + +FALSTAFF +Dost thou hear, Hal? never call a true piece of +gold a counterfeit: thou art essentially mad, +without seeming so. + +PRINCE HENRY +And thou a natural coward, without instinct. + +FALSTAFF +I deny your major: if you will deny the sheriff, +so; if not, let him enter: if I become not a cart +as well as another man, a plague on my bringing up! +I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as another. + +PRINCE HENRY +Go, hide thee behind the arras: the rest walk up +above. Now, my masters, for a true face and good +conscience. + +FALSTAFF +Both which I have had: but their date is out, and +therefore I'll hide me. + +PRINCE HENRY +Call in the sheriff. + +Exeunt all except PRINCE HENRY and PETO + +Enter Sheriff and the Carrier + +Now, master sheriff, what is your will with me? + +Sheriff +First, pardon me, my lord. A hue and cry +Hath follow'd certain men unto this house. + +PRINCE HENRY +What men? + +Sheriff +One of them is well known, my gracious lord, +A gross fat man. + +Carrier +As fat as butter. + +PRINCE HENRY +The man, I do assure you, is not here; +For I myself at this time have employ'd him. +And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee +That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time, +Send him to answer thee, or any man, +For any thing he shall be charged withal: +And so let me entreat you leave the house. + +Sheriff +I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen +Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks. + +PRINCE HENRY +It may be so: if he have robb'd these men, +He shall be answerable; and so farewell. + +Sheriff +Good night, my noble lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +I think it is good morrow, is it not? + +Sheriff +Indeed, my lord, I think it be two o'clock. + +Exeunt Sheriff and Carrier + +PRINCE HENRY +This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, +call him forth. + +PETO +Falstaff!--Fast asleep behind the arras, and +snorting like a horse. + +PRINCE HENRY +Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets. + +He searcheth his pockets, and findeth certain papers + +What hast thou found? + +PETO +Nothing but papers, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Let's see what they be: read them. + +PETO +[Reads] Item, A capon,. . 2s. 2d. +Item, Sauce,. . . 4d. +Item, Sack, two gallons, 5s. 8d. +Item, Anchovies and sack after supper, 2s. 6d. +Item, Bread, ob. + +PRINCE HENRY +O monstrous! but one half-penny-worth of bread to +this intolerable deal of sack! What there is else, +keep close; we'll read it at more advantage: there +let him sleep till day. I'll to the court in the +morning. We must all to the wars, and thy place +shall be honourable. I'll procure this fat rogue a +charge of foot; and I know his death will be a +march of twelve-score. The money shall be paid +back again with advantage. Be with me betimes in +the morning; and so, good morrow, Peto. + +Exeunt + +PETO +Good morrow, good my lord. + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Bangor. The Archdeacon's house. + +Enter HOTSPUR, WORCESTER, MORTIMER, and GLENDOWER +MORTIMER +These promises are fair, the parties sure, +And our induction full of prosperous hope. + +HOTSPUR +Lord Mortimer, and cousin Glendower, +Will you sit down? +And uncle Worcester: a plague upon it! +I have forgot the map. + +GLENDOWER +No, here it is. +Sit, cousin Percy; sit, good cousin Hotspur, +For by that name as oft as Lancaster +Doth speak of you, his cheek looks pale and with +A rising sigh he wisheth you in heaven. + +HOTSPUR +And you in hell, as oft as he hears Owen Glendower spoke of. + +GLENDOWER +I cannot blame him: at my nativity +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +Of burning cressets; and at my birth +The frame and huge foundation of the earth +Shaked like a coward. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so it would have done at the same season, if +your mother's cat had but kittened, though yourself +had never been born. + +GLENDOWER +I say the earth did shake when I was born. + +HOTSPUR +And I say the earth was not of my mind, +If you suppose as fearing you it shook. + +GLENDOWER +The heavens were all on fire, the earth did tremble. + +HOTSPUR +O, then the earth shook to see the heavens on fire, +And not in fear of your nativity. +Diseased nature oftentimes breaks forth +In strange eruptions; oft the teeming earth +Is with a kind of colic pinch'd and vex'd +By the imprisoning of unruly wind +Within her womb; which, for enlargement striving, +Shakes the old beldam earth and topples down +Steeples and moss-grown towers. At your birth +Our grandam earth, having this distemperature, +In passion shook. + +GLENDOWER +Cousin, of many men +I do not bear these crossings. Give me leave +To tell you once again that at my birth +The front of heaven was full of fiery shapes, +The goats ran from the mountains, and the herds +Were strangely clamorous to the frighted fields. +These signs have mark'd me extraordinary; +And all the courses of my life do show +I am not in the roll of common men. +Where is he living, clipp'd in with the sea +That chides the banks of England, Scotland, Wales, +Which calls me pupil, or hath read to me? +And bring him out that is but woman's son +Can trace me in the tedious ways of art +And hold me pace in deep experiments. + +HOTSPUR +I think there's no man speaks better Welsh. +I'll to dinner. + +MORTIMER +Peace, cousin Percy; you will make him mad. + +GLENDOWER +I can call spirits from the vasty deep. + +HOTSPUR +Why, so can I, or so can any man; +But will they come when you do call for them? + +GLENDOWER +Why, I can teach you, cousin, to command +The devil. + +HOTSPUR +And I can teach thee, coz, to shame the devil +By telling truth: tell truth and shame the devil. +If thou have power to raise him, bring him hither, +And I'll be sworn I have power to shame him hence. +O, while you live, tell truth and shame the devil! + +MORTIMER +Come, come, no more of this unprofitable chat. + +GLENDOWER +Three times hath Henry Bolingbroke made head +Against my power; thrice from the banks of Wye +And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent him +Bootless home and weather-beaten back. + +HOTSPUR +Home without boots, and in foul weather too! +How 'scapes he agues, in the devil's name? + +GLENDOWER +Come, here's the map: shall we divide our right +According to our threefold order ta'en? + +MORTIMER +The archdeacon hath divided it +Into three limits very equally: +England, from Trent and Severn hitherto, +By south and east is to my part assign'd: +All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore, +And all the fertile land within that bound, +To Owen Glendower: and, dear coz, to you +The remnant northward, lying off from Trent. +And our indentures tripartite are drawn; +Which being sealed interchangeably, +A business that this night may execute, +To-morrow, cousin Percy, you and I +And my good Lord of Worcester will set forth +To meet your father and the Scottish power, +As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury. +My father Glendower is not ready yet, +Not shall we need his help these fourteen days. +Within that space you may have drawn together +Your tenants, friends and neighbouring gentlemen. + +GLENDOWER +A shorter time shall send me to you, lords: +And in my conduct shall your ladies come; +From whom you now must steal and take no leave, +For there will be a world of water shed +Upon the parting of your wives and you. + +HOTSPUR +Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here, +In quantity equals not one of yours: +See how this river comes me cranking in, +And cuts me from the best of all my land +A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out. +I'll have the current in this place damm'd up; +And here the smug and silver Trent shall run +In a new channel, fair and evenly; +It shall not wind with such a deep indent, +To rob me of so rich a bottom here. + +GLENDOWER +Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth. + +MORTIMER +Yea, but +Mark how he bears his course, and runs me up +With like advantage on the other side; +Gelding the opposed continent as much +As on the other side it takes from you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +Yea, but a little charge will trench him here +And on this north side win this cape of land; +And then he runs straight and even. + +HOTSPUR +I'll have it so: a little charge will do it. + +GLENDOWER +I'll not have it alter'd. + +HOTSPUR +Will not you? + +GLENDOWER +No, nor you shall not. + +HOTSPUR +Who shall say me nay? + +GLENDOWER +Why, that will I. + +HOTSPUR +Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +I can speak English, lord, as well as you; +For I was train'd up in the English court; +Where, being but young, I framed to the harp +Many an English ditty lovely well +And gave the tongue a helpful ornament, +A virtue that was never seen in you. + +HOTSPUR +Marry, +And I am glad of it with all my heart: +I had rather be a kitten and cry mew +Than one of these same metre ballad-mongers; +I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd, +Or a dry wheel grate on the axle-tree; +And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, +Nothing so much as mincing poetry: +'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag. + +GLENDOWER +Come, you shall have Trent turn'd. + +HOTSPUR +I do not care: I'll give thrice so much land +To any well-deserving friend; +But in the way of bargain, mark ye me, +I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair. +Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone? + +GLENDOWER +The moon shines fair; you may away by night: +I'll haste the writer and withal +Break with your wives of your departure hence: +I am afraid my daughter will run mad, +So much she doteth on her Mortimer. + +Exit GLENDOWER + +MORTIMER +Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father! + +HOTSPUR +I cannot choose: sometime he angers me +With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant, +Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies, +And of a dragon and a finless fish, +A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven, +A couching lion and a ramping cat, +And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff +As puts me from my faith. I tell you what; +He held me last night at least nine hours +In reckoning up the several devils' names +That were his lackeys: I cried 'hum,' and 'well, go to,' +But mark'd him not a word. O, he is as tedious +As a tired horse, a railing wife; +Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live +With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far, +Than feed on cates and have him talk to me +In any summer-house in Christendom. + +MORTIMER +In faith, he is a worthy gentleman, +Exceedingly well read, and profited +In strange concealments, valiant as a lion +And as wondrous affable and as bountiful +As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin? +He holds your temper in a high respect +And curbs himself even of his natural scope +When you come 'cross his humour; faith, he does: +I warrant you, that man is not alive +Might so have tempted him as you have done, +Without the taste of danger and reproof: +But do not use it oft, let me entreat you. + +EARL OF WORCESTER +In faith, my lord, you are too wilful-blame; +And since your coming hither have done enough +To put him quite beside his patience. +You must needs learn, lord, to amend this fault: +Though sometimes it show greatness, courage, blood,-- +And that's the dearest grace it renders you,-- +Yet oftentimes it doth present harsh rage, +Defect of manners, want of government, +Pride, haughtiness, opinion and disdain: +The least of which haunting a nobleman +Loseth men's hearts and leaves behind a stain +Upon the beauty of all parts besides, +Beguiling them of commendation. + +HOTSPUR +Well, I am school'd: good manners be your speed! +Here come our wives, and let us take our leave. + +Re-enter GLENDOWER with the ladies + +MORTIMER +This is the deadly spite that angers me; +My wife can speak no English, I no Welsh. + +GLENDOWER +My daughter weeps: she will not part with you; +She'll be a soldier too, she'll to the wars. + +MORTIMER +Good father, tell her that she and my aunt Percy +Shall follow in your conduct speedily. + +Glendower speaks to her in Welsh, and she answers him in the same + +GLENDOWER +She is desperate here; a peevish self-wind harlotry, +one that no persuasion can do good upon. + +The lady speaks in Welsh + +MORTIMER +I understand thy looks: that pretty Welsh +Which thou pour'st down from these swelling heavens +I am too perfect in; and, but for shame, +In such a parley should I answer thee. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +I understand thy kisses and thou mine, +And that's a feeling disputation: +But I will never be a truant, love, +Till I have learned thy language; for thy tongue +Makes Welsh as sweet as ditties highly penn'd, +Sung by a fair queen in a summer's bower, +With ravishing division, to her lute. + +GLENDOWER +Nay, if you melt, then will she run mad. + +The lady speaks again in Welsh + +MORTIMER +O, I am ignorance itself in this! + +GLENDOWER +She bids you on the wanton rushes lay you down +And rest your gentle head upon her lap, +And she will sing the song that pleaseth you +And on your eyelids crown the god of sleep. +Charming your blood with pleasing heaviness, +Making such difference 'twixt wake and sleep +As is the difference betwixt day and night +The hour before the heavenly-harness'd team +Begins his golden progress in the east. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart I'll sit and hear her sing: +By that time will our book, I think, be drawn + +GLENDOWER +Do so; +And those musicians that shall play to you +Hang in the air a thousand leagues from hence, +And straight they shall be here: sit, and attend. + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, thou art perfect in lying down: come, +quick, quick, that I may lay my head in thy lap. + +LADY PERCY +Go, ye giddy goose. + +The music plays + +HOTSPUR +Now I perceive the devil understands Welsh; +And 'tis no marvel he is so humorous. +By'r lady, he is a good musician. + +LADY PERCY +Then should you be nothing but musical for you are +altogether governed by humours. Lie still, ye thief, +and hear the lady sing in Welsh. + +HOTSPUR +I had rather hear Lady, my brach, howl in Irish. + +LADY PERCY +Wouldst thou have thy head broken? + +HOTSPUR +No. + +LADY PERCY +Then be still. + +HOTSPUR +Neither;'tis a woman's fault. + +LADY PERCY +Now God help thee! + +HOTSPUR +To the Welsh lady's bed. + +LADY PERCY +What's that? + +HOTSPUR +Peace! she sings. + +Here the lady sings a Welsh song + +HOTSPUR +Come, Kate, I'll have your song too. + +LADY PERCY +Not mine, in good sooth. + +HOTSPUR +Not yours, in good sooth! Heart! you swear like a +comfit-maker's wife. 'Not you, in good sooth,' and +'as true as I live,' and 'as God shall mend me,' and +'as sure as day,' +And givest such sarcenet surety for thy oaths, +As if thou never walk'st further than Finsbury. +Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, +A good mouth-filling oath, and leave 'in sooth,' +And such protest of pepper-gingerbread, +To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens. +Come, sing. + +LADY PERCY +I will not sing. + +HOTSPUR +'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast +teacher. An the indentures be drawn, I'll away +within these two hours; and so, come in when ye will. + +Exit + +GLENDOWER +Come, come, Lord Mortimer; you are as slow +As hot Lord Percy is on fire to go. +By this our book is drawn; we'll but seal, +And then to horse immediately. + +MORTIMER +With all my heart. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING HENRY IV, PRINCE HENRY, and others +KING HENRY IV +Lords, give us leave; the Prince of Wales and I +Must have some private conference; but be near at hand, +For we shall presently have need of you. + +Exeunt Lords + +I know not whether God will have it so, +For some displeasing service I have done, +That, in his secret doom, out of my blood +He'll breed revengement and a scourge for me; +But thou dost in thy passages of life +Make me believe that thou art only mark'd +For the hot vengeance and the rod of heaven +To punish my mistreadings. Tell me else, +Could such inordinate and low desires, +Such poor, such bare, such lewd, such mean attempts, +Such barren pleasures, rude society, +As thou art match'd withal and grafted to, +Accompany the greatness of thy blood +And hold their level with thy princely heart? + +PRINCE HENRY +So please your majesty, I would I could +Quit all offences with as clear excuse +As well as I am doubtless I can purge +Myself of many I am charged withal: +Yet such extenuation let me beg, +As, in reproof of many tales devised, +which oft the ear of greatness needs must hear, +By smiling pick-thanks and base news-mongers, +I may, for some things true, wherein my youth +Hath faulty wander'd and irregular, +Find pardon on my true submission. + +KING HENRY IV +God pardon thee! yet let me wonder, Harry, +At thy affections, which do hold a wing +Quite from the flight of all thy ancestors. +Thy place in council thou hast rudely lost. +Which by thy younger brother is supplied, +And art almost an alien to the hearts +Of all the court and princes of my blood: +The hope and expectation of thy time +Is ruin'd, and the soul of every man +Prophetically doth forethink thy fall. +Had I so lavish of my presence been, +So common-hackney'd in the eyes of men, +So stale and cheap to vulgar company, +Opinion, that did help me to the crown, +Had still kept loyal to possession +And left me in reputeless banishment, +A fellow of no mark nor likelihood. +By being seldom seen, I could not stir +But like a comet I was wonder'd at; +That men would tell their children 'This is he;' +Others would say 'Where, which is Bolingbroke?' +And then I stole all courtesy from heaven, +And dress'd myself in such humility +That I did pluck allegiance from men's hearts, +Loud shouts and salutations from their mouths, +Even in the presence of the crowned king. +Thus did I keep my person fresh and new; +My presence, like a robe pontifical, +Ne'er seen but wonder'd at: and so my state, +Seldom but sumptuous, showed like a feast +And won by rareness such solemnity. +The skipping king, he ambled up and down +With shallow jesters and rash bavin wits, +Soon kindled and soon burnt; carded his state, +Mingled his royalty with capering fools, +Had his great name profaned with their scorns +And gave his countenance, against his name, +To laugh at gibing boys and stand the push +Of every beardless vain comparative, +Grew a companion to the common streets, +Enfeoff'd himself to popularity; +That, being daily swallow'd by men's eyes, +They surfeited with honey and began +To loathe the taste of sweetness, whereof a little +More than a little is by much too much. +So when he had occasion to be seen, +He was but as the cuckoo is in June, +Heard, not regarded; seen, but with such eyes +As, sick and blunted with community, +Afford no extraordinary gaze, +Such as is bent on sun-like majesty +When it shines seldom in admiring eyes; +But rather drowzed and hung their eyelids down, +Slept in his face and render'd such aspect +As cloudy men use to their adversaries, +Being with his presence glutted, gorged and full. +And in that very line, Harry, standest thou; +For thou has lost thy princely privilege +With vile participation: not an eye +But is a-weary of thy common sight, +Save mine, which hath desired to see thee more; +Which now doth that I would not have it do, +Make blind itself with foolish tenderness. + +PRINCE HENRY +I shall hereafter, my thrice gracious lord, +Be more myself. + +KING HENRY IV +For all the world +As thou art to this hour was Richard then +When I from France set foot at Ravenspurgh, +And even as I was then is Percy now. +Now, by my sceptre and my soul to boot, +He hath more worthy interest to the state +Than thou the shadow of succession; +For of no right, nor colour like to right, +He doth fill fields with harness in the realm, +Turns head against the lion's armed jaws, +And, being no more in debt to years than thou, +Leads ancient lords and reverend bishops on +To bloody battles and to bruising arms. +What never-dying honour hath he got +Against renowned Douglas! whose high deeds, +Whose hot incursions and great name in arms +Holds from all soldiers chief majority +And military title capital +Through all the kingdoms that acknowledge Christ: +Thrice hath this Hotspur, Mars in swathling clothes, +This infant warrior, in his enterprises +Discomfited great Douglas, ta'en him once, +Enlarged him and made a friend of him, +To fill the mouth of deep defiance up +And shake the peace and safety of our throne. +And what say you to this? Percy, Northumberland, +The Archbishop's grace of York, Douglas, Mortimer, +Capitulate against us and are up. +But wherefore do I tell these news to thee? +Why, Harry, do I tell thee of my foes, +Which art my near'st and dearest enemy? +Thou that art like enough, through vassal fear, +Base inclination and the start of spleen +To fight against me under Percy's pay, +To dog his heels and curtsy at his frowns, +To show how much thou art degenerate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Do not think so; you shall not find it so: +And God forgive them that so much have sway'd +Your majesty's good thoughts away from me! +I will redeem all this on Percy's head +And in the closing of some glorious day +Be bold to tell you that I am your son; +When I will wear a garment all of blood +And stain my favours in a bloody mask, +Which, wash'd away, shall scour my shame with it: +And that shall be the day, whene'er it lights, +That this same child of honour and renown, +This gallant Hotspur, this all-praised knight, +And your unthought-of Harry chance to meet. +For every honour sitting on his helm, +Would they were multitudes, and on my head +My shames redoubled! for the time will come, +That I shall make this northern youth exchange +His glorious deeds for my indignities. +Percy is but my factor, good my lord, +To engross up glorious deeds on my behalf; +And I will call him to so strict account, +That he shall render every glory up, +Yea, even the slightest worship of his time, +Or I will tear the reckoning from his heart. +This, in the name of God, I promise here: +The which if He be pleased I shall perform, +I do beseech your majesty may salve +The long-grown wounds of my intemperance: +If not, the end of life cancels all bands; +And I will die a hundred thousand deaths +Ere break the smallest parcel of this vow. + +KING HENRY IV +A hundred thousand rebels die in this: +Thou shalt have charge and sovereign trust herein. + +Enter BLUNT + +How now, good Blunt? thy looks are full of speed. + +SIR WALTER BLUNT +So hath the business that I come to speak of. +Lord Mortimer of Scotland hath sent word +That Douglas and the English rebels met +The eleventh of this month at Shrewsbury +A mighty and a fearful head they are, +If promises be kept on every hand, +As ever offer'd foul play in the state. + +KING HENRY IV +The Earl of Westmoreland set forth to-day; +With him my son, Lord John of Lancaster; +For this advertisement is five days old: +On Wednesday next, Harry, you shall set forward; +On Thursday we ourselves will march: our meeting +Is Bridgenorth: and, Harry, you shall march +Through Gloucestershire; by which account, +Our business valued, some twelve days hence +Our general forces at Bridgenorth shall meet. +Our hands are full of business: let's away; +Advantage feeds him fat, while men delay. + +Exeunt + +Scene III +Eastcheap. The Boar's-Head Tavern. + +Enter FALSTAFF and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +Bardolph, am I not fallen away vilely since this last +action? do I not bate? do I not dwindle? Why my +skin hangs about me like an like an old lady's loose +gown; I am withered like an old apple-john. Well, +I'll repent, and that suddenly, while I am in some +liking; I shall be out of heart shortly, and then I +shall have no strength to repent. An I have not +forgotten what the inside of a church is made of, I +am a peppercorn, a brewer's horse: the inside of a +church! Company, villanous company, hath been the +spoil of me. + +BARDOLPH +Sir John, you are so fretful, you cannot live long. + +FALSTAFF +Why, there is it: come sing me a bawdy song; make +me merry. I was as virtuously given as a gentleman +need to be; virtuous enough; swore little; diced not +above seven times a week; went to a bawdy-house once +in a quarter--of an hour; paid money that I +borrowed, three of four times; lived well and in +good compass: and now I live out of all order, out +of all compass. + +BARDOLPH +Why, you are so fat, Sir John, that you must needs +be out of all compass, out of all reasonable +compass, Sir John. + +FALSTAFF +Do thou amend thy face, and I'll amend my life: +thou art our admiral, thou bearest the lantern in +the poop, but 'tis in the nose of thee; thou art the +Knight of the Burning Lamp. + +BARDOLPH +Why, Sir John, my face does you no harm. + +FALSTAFF +No, I'll be sworn; I make as good use of it as many +a man doth of a Death's-head or a memento mori: I +never see thy face but I think upon hell-fire and +Dives that lived in purple; for there he is in his +robes, burning, burning. If thou wert any way +given to virtue, I would swear by thy face; my oath +should be 'By this fire, that's God's angel:' but +thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but +for the light in thy face, the son of utter +darkness. When thou rannest up Gadshill in the +night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou +hadst been an ignis fatuus or a ball of wildfire, +there's no purchase in money. O, thou art a +perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! +Thou hast saved me a thousand marks in links and +torches, walking with thee in the night betwixt +tavern and tavern: but the sack that thou hast +drunk me would have bought me lights as good cheap +at the dearest chandler's in Europe. I have +maintained that salamander of yours with fire any +time this two and thirty years; God reward me for +it! + +The Second part of King Henry the Fourth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry IV, part 2 | Entire play + +None + +Warkworth. Before the castle + +Enter RUMOUR, painted full of tongues +RUMOUR +Open your ears; for which of you will stop +The vent of hearing when loud Rumour speaks? +I, from the orient to the drooping west, +Making the wind my post-horse, still unfold +The acts commenced on this ball of earth: +Upon my tongues continual slanders ride, +The which in every language I pronounce, +Stuffing the ears of men with false reports. +I speak of peace, while covert enmity +Under the smile of safety wounds the world: +And who but Rumour, who but only I, +Make fearful musters and prepared defence, +Whiles the big year, swoln with some other grief, +Is thought with child by the stern tyrant war, +And no such matter? Rumour is a pipe +Blown by surmises, jealousies, conjectures +And of so easy and so plain a stop +That the blunt monster with uncounted heads, +The still-discordant wavering multitude, +Can play upon it. But what need I thus +My well-known body to anatomize +Among my household? Why is Rumour here? +I run before King Harry's victory; +Who in a bloody field by Shrewsbury +Hath beaten down young Hotspur and his troops, +Quenching the flame of bold rebellion +Even with the rebel's blood. But what mean I +To speak so true at first? my office is +To noise abroad that Harry Monmouth fell +Under the wrath of noble Hotspur's sword, +And that the king before the Douglas' rage +Stoop'd his anointed head as low as death. +This have I rumour'd through the peasant towns +Between that royal field of Shrewsbury +And this worm-eaten hold of ragged stone, +Where Hotspur's father, old Northumberland, +Lies crafty-sick: the posts come tiring on, +And not a man of them brings other news +Than they have learn'd of me: from Rumour's tongues +They bring smooth comforts false, worse than +true wrongs. + +Exit + + +ACT I +SCENE I. The same. + +Enter LORD BARDOLPH +LORD BARDOLPH +Who keeps the gate here, ho? + +The Porter opens the gate + +Where is the earl? + +Porter +What shall I say you are? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Tell thou the earl +That the Lord Bardolph doth attend him here. + +Porter +His lordship is walk'd forth into the orchard; +Please it your honour, knock but at the gate, +And he himself wilt answer. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +LORD BARDOLPH +Here comes the earl. + +Exit Porter + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What news, Lord Bardolph? every minute now +Should be the father of some stratagem: +The times are wild: contention, like a horse +Full of high feeding, madly hath broke loose +And bears down all before him. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Noble earl, +I bring you certain news from Shrewsbury. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Good, an God will! + +LORD BARDOLPH +As good as heart can wish: +The king is almost wounded to the death; +And, in the fortune of my lord your son, +Prince Harry slain outright; and both the Blunts +Kill'd by the hand of Douglas; young Prince John +And Westmoreland and Stafford fled the field; +And Harry Monmouth's brawn, the hulk Sir John, +Is prisoner to your son: O, such a day, +So fought, so follow'd and so fairly won, +Came not till now to dignify the times, +Since Caesar's fortunes! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How is this derived? +Saw you the field? came you from Shrewsbury? + +LORD BARDOLPH +I spake with one, my lord, that came from thence, +A gentleman well bred and of good name, +That freely render'd me these news for true. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here comes my servant Travers, whom I sent +On Tuesday last to listen after news. + +Enter TRAVERS + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I over-rode him on the way; +And he is furnish'd with no certainties +More than he haply may retail from me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, Travers, what good tidings comes with you? + +TRAVERS +My lord, Sir John Umfrevile turn'd me back +With joyful tidings; and, being better horsed, +Out-rode me. After him came spurring hard +A gentleman, almost forspent with speed, +That stopp'd by me to breathe his bloodied horse. +He ask'd the way to Chester; and of him +I did demand what news from Shrewsbury: +He told me that rebellion had bad luck +And that young Harry Percy's spur was cold. +With that, he gave his able horse the head, +And bending forward struck his armed heels +Against the panting sides of his poor jade +Up to the rowel-head, and starting so +He seem'd in running to devour the way, +Staying no longer question. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Ha! Again: +Said he young Harry Percy's spur was cold? +Of Hotspur Coldspur? that rebellion +Had met ill luck? + +LORD BARDOLPH +My lord, I'll tell you what; +If my young lord your son have not the day, +Upon mine honour, for a silken point +I'll give my barony: never talk of it. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why should that gentleman that rode by Travers +Give then such instances of loss? + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who, he? +He was some hilding fellow that had stolen +The horse he rode on, and, upon my life, +Spoke at a venture. Look, here comes more news. + +Enter MORTON + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yea, this man's brow, like to a title-leaf, +Foretells the nature of a tragic volume: +So looks the strand whereon the imperious flood +Hath left a witness'd usurpation. +Say, Morton, didst thou come from Shrewsbury? + +MORTON +I ran from Shrewsbury, my noble lord; +Where hateful death put on his ugliest mask +To fright our party. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +How doth my son and brother? +Thou tremblest; and the whiteness in thy cheek +Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. +Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, +So dull, so dead in look, so woe-begone, +Drew Priam's curtain in the dead of night, +And would have told him half his Troy was burnt; +But Priam found the fire ere he his tongue, +And I my Percy's death ere thou report'st it. +This thou wouldst say, 'Your son did thus and thus; +Your brother thus: so fought the noble Douglas:' +Stopping my greedy ear with their bold deeds: +But in the end, to stop my ear indeed, +Thou hast a sigh to blow away this praise, +Ending with 'Brother, son, and all are dead.' + +MORTON +Douglas is living, and your brother, yet; +But, for my lord your son-- + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Why, he is dead. +See what a ready tongue suspicion hath! +He that but fears the thing he would not know +Hath by instinct knowledge from others' eyes +That what he fear'd is chanced. Yet speak, Morton; +Tell thou an earl his divination lies, +And I will take it as a sweet disgrace +And make thee rich for doing me such wrong. + +MORTON +You are too great to be by me gainsaid: +Your spirit is too true, your fears too certain. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yet, for all this, say not that Percy's dead. +I see a strange confession in thine eye: +Thou shakest thy head and hold'st it fear or sin +To speak a truth. If he be slain, say so; +The tongue offends not that reports his death: +And he doth sin that doth belie the dead, +Not he which says the dead is not alive. +Yet the first bringer of unwelcome news +Hath but a losing office, and his tongue +Sounds ever after as a sullen bell, +Remember'd tolling a departing friend. + +LORD BARDOLPH +I cannot think, my lord, your son is dead. + +MORTON +I am sorry I should force you to believe +That which I would to God I had not seen; +But these mine eyes saw him in bloody state, +Rendering faint quittance, wearied and out-breathed, +To Harry Monmouth; whose swift wrath beat down +The never-daunted Percy to the earth, +From whence with life he never more sprung up. +In few, his death, whose spirit lent a fire +Even to the dullest peasant in his camp, +Being bruited once, took fire and heat away +From the best temper'd courage in his troops; +For from his metal was his party steel'd; +Which once in him abated, all the rest +Turn'd on themselves, like dull and heavy lead: +And as the thing that's heavy in itself, +Upon enforcement flies with greatest speed, +So did our men, heavy in Hotspur's loss, +Lend to this weight such lightness with their fear +That arrows fled not swifter toward their aim +Than did our soldiers, aiming at their safety, +Fly from the field. Then was the noble Worcester +Too soon ta'en prisoner; and that furious Scot, +The bloody Douglas, whose well-labouring sword +Had three times slain the appearance of the king, +'Gan vail his stomach and did grace the shame +Of those that turn'd their backs, and in his flight, +Stumbling in fear, was took. The sum of all +Is that the king hath won, and hath sent out +A speedy power to encounter you, my lord, +Under the conduct of young Lancaster +And Westmoreland. This is the news at full. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +For this I shall have time enough to mourn. +In poison there is physic; and these news, +Having been well, that would have made me sick, +Being sick, have in some measure made me well: +And as the wretch, whose fever-weaken'd joints, +Like strengthless hinges, buckle under life, +Impatient of his fit, breaks like a fire +Out of his keeper's arms, even so my limbs, +Weaken'd with grief, being now enraged with grief, +Are thrice themselves. Hence, therefore, thou nice crutch! +A scaly gauntlet now with joints of steel +Must glove this hand: and hence, thou sickly quoif! +Thou art a guard too wanton for the head +Which princes, flesh'd with conquest, aim to hit. +Now bind my brows with iron; and approach +The ragged'st hour that time and spite dare bring +To frown upon the enraged Northumberland! +Let heaven kiss earth! now let not Nature's hand +Keep the wild flood confined! let order die! +And let this world no longer be a stage +To feed contention in a lingering act; +But let one spirit of the first-born Cain +Reign in all bosoms, that, each heart being set +On bloody courses, the rude scene may end, +And darkness be the burier of the dead! + +TRAVERS +This strained passion doth you wrong, my lord. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Sweet earl, divorce not wisdom from your honour. + +MORTON +The lives of all your loving complices +Lean on your health; the which, if you give o'er +To stormy passion, must perforce decay. +You cast the event of war, my noble lord, +And summ'd the account of chance, before you said +'Let us make head.' It was your presurmise, +That, in the dole of blows, your son might drop: +You knew he walk'd o'er perils, on an edge, +More likely to fall in than to get o'er; +You were advised his flesh was capable +Of wounds and scars and that his forward spirit +Would lift him where most trade of danger ranged: +Yet did you say 'Go forth;' and none of this, +Though strongly apprehended, could restrain +The stiff-borne action: what hath then befallen, +Or what hath this bold enterprise brought forth, +More than that being which was like to be? + +LORD BARDOLPH +We all that are engaged to this loss +Knew that we ventured on such dangerous seas +That if we wrought our life 'twas ten to one; +And yet we ventured, for the gain proposed +Choked the respect of likely peril fear'd; +And since we are o'erset, venture again. +Come, we will all put forth, body and goods. + +MORTON +'Tis more than time: and, my most noble lord, +I hear for certain, and do speak the truth, +The gentle Archbishop of York is up +With well-appointed powers: he is a man +Who with a double surety binds his followers. +My lord your son had only but the corpse, +But shadows and the shows of men, to fight; +For that same word, rebellion, did divide +The action of their bodies from their souls; +And they did fight with queasiness, constrain'd, +As men drink potions, that their weapons only +Seem'd on our side; but, for their spirits and souls, +This word, rebellion, it had froze them up, +As fish are in a pond. But now the bishop +Turns insurrection to religion: +Supposed sincere and holy in his thoughts, +He's followed both with body and with mind; +And doth enlarge his rising with the blood +Of fair King Richard, scraped from Pomfret stones; +Derives from heaven his quarrel and his cause; +Tells them he doth bestride a bleeding land, +Gasping for life under great Bolingbroke; +And more and less do flock to follow him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I knew of this before; but, to speak truth, +This present grief had wiped it from my mind. +Go in with me; and counsel every man +The aptest way for safety and revenge: +Get posts and letters, and make friends with speed: +Never so few, and never yet more need. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. A street. + +Enter FALSTAFF, with his Page bearing his sword and buckler +FALSTAFF +Sirrah, you giant, what says the doctor to my water? + +Page +He said, sir, the water itself was a good healthy +water; but, for the party that owed it, he might +have more diseases than he knew for. + +FALSTAFF +Men of all sorts take a pride to gird at me: the +brain of this foolish-compounded clay, man, is not +able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more +than I invent or is invented on me: I am not only +witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other +men. I do here walk before thee like a sow that +hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. If the +prince put thee into my service for any other reason +than to set me off, why then I have no judgment. +Thou whoreson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn +in my cap than to wait at my heels. I was never +manned with an agate till now: but I will inset you +neither in gold nor silver, but in vile apparel, and +send you back again to your master, for a jewel,-- +the juvenal, the prince your master, whose chin is +not yet fledged. I will sooner have a beard grow in +the palm of my hand than he shall get one on his +cheek; and yet he will not stick to say his face is +a face-royal: God may finish it when he will, 'tis +not a hair amiss yet: he may keep it still at a +face-royal, for a barber shall never earn sixpence +out of it; and yet he'll be crowing as if he had +writ man ever since his father was a bachelor. He +may keep his own grace, but he's almost out of mine, +I can assure him. What said Master Dombledon about +the satin for my short cloak and my slops? + +Page +He said, sir, you should procure him better +assurance than Bardolph: he would not take his +band and yours; he liked not the security. + +FALSTAFF +Let him be damned, like the glutton! pray God his +tongue be hotter! A whoreson Achitophel! a rascally +yea-forsooth knave! to bear a gentleman in hand, +and then stand upon security! The whoreson +smooth-pates do now wear nothing but high shoes, and +bunches of keys at their girdles; and if a man is +through with them in honest taking up, then they +must stand upon security. I had as lief they would +put ratsbane in my mouth as offer to stop it with +security. I looked a' should have sent me two and +twenty yards of satin, as I am a true knight, and he +sends me security. Well, he may sleep in security; +for he hath the horn of abundance, and the lightness +of his wife shines through it: and yet cannot he +see, though he have his own lanthorn to light him. +Where's Bardolph? + +Page +He's gone into Smithfield to buy your worship a horse. + +FALSTAFF +I bought him in Paul's, and he'll buy me a horse in +Smithfield: an I could get me but a wife in the +stews, I were manned, horsed, and wived. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice and Servant + +Page +Sir, here comes the nobleman that committed the +Prince for striking him about Bardolph. + +FALSTAFF +Wait, close; I will not see him. +Lord Chief-Justice What's he that goes there? + +Servant +Falstaff, an't please your lordship. +Lord Chief-Justice He that was in question for the robbery? + +Servant +He, my lord: but he hath since done good service at +Shrewsbury; and, as I hear, is now going with some +charge to the Lord John of Lancaster. +Lord Chief-Justice What, to York? Call him back again. + +Servant +Sir John Falstaff! + +FALSTAFF +Boy, tell him I am deaf. + +Page +You must speak louder; my master is deaf. +Lord Chief-Justice I am sure he is, to the hearing of any thing good. +Go, pluck him by the elbow; I must speak with him. + +Servant +Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +What! a young knave, and begging! Is there not +wars? is there not employment? doth not the king +lack subjects? do not the rebels need soldiers? +Though it be a shame to be on any side but one, it +is worse shame to beg than to be on the worst side, +were it worse than the name of rebellion can tell +how to make it. + +Servant +You mistake me, sir. + +FALSTAFF +Why, sir, did I say you were an honest man? setting +my knighthood and my soldiership aside, I had lied +in my throat, if I had said so. + +Servant +I pray you, sir, then set your knighthood and our +soldiership aside; and give me leave to tell you, +you lie in your throat, if you say I am any other +than an honest man. + +FALSTAFF +I give thee leave to tell me so! I lay aside that +which grows to me! if thou gettest any leave of me, +hang me; if thou takest leave, thou wert better be +hanged. You hunt counter: hence! avaunt! + +Servant +Sir, my lord would speak with you. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John Falstaff, a word with you. + +FALSTAFF +My good lord! God give your lordship good time of +day. I am glad to see your lordship abroad: I heard +say your lordship was sick: I hope your lordship +goes abroad by advice. Your lordship, though not +clean past your youth, hath yet some smack of age in +you, some relish of the saltness of time; and I must +humbly beseech your lordship to have a reverent care +of your health. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, I sent for you before your expedition to +Shrewsbury. + +FALSTAFF +An't please your lordship, I hear his majesty is +returned with some discomfort from Wales. +Lord Chief-Justice I talk not of his majesty: you would not come when +I sent for you. + +FALSTAFF +And I hear, moreover, his highness is fallen into +this same whoreson apoplexy. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God mend him! I pray you, let me speak with +you. + +FALSTAFF +This apoplexy is, as I take it, a kind of lethargy, +an't please your lordship; a kind of sleeping in the +blood, a whoreson tingling. +Lord Chief-Justice What tell you me of it? be it as it is. + +FALSTAFF +It hath its original from much grief, from study and +perturbation of the brain: I have read the cause of +his effects in Galen: it is a kind of deafness. +Lord Chief-Justice I think you are fallen into the disease; for you +hear not what I say to you. + +FALSTAFF +Very well, my lord, very well: rather, an't please +you, it is the disease of not listening, the malady +of not marking, that I am troubled withal. +Lord Chief-Justice To punish you by the heels would amend the +attention of your ears; and I care not if I do +become your physician. + +FALSTAFF +I am as poor as Job, my lord, but not so patient: +your lordship may minister the potion of +imprisonment to me in respect of poverty; but how +should I be your patient to follow your +prescriptions, the wise may make some dram of a +scruple, or indeed a scruple itself. +Lord Chief-Justice I sent for you, when there were matters against you +for your life, to come speak with me. + +FALSTAFF +As I was then advised by my learned counsel in the +laws of this land-service, I did not come. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the truth is, Sir John, you live in great infamy. + +FALSTAFF +He that buckles him in my belt cannot live in less. +Lord Chief-Justice Your means are very slender, and your waste is great. + +FALSTAFF +I would it were otherwise; I would my means were +greater, and my waist slenderer. +Lord Chief-Justice You have misled the youthful prince. + +FALSTAFF +The young prince hath misled me: I am the fellow +with the great belly, and he my dog. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, I am loath to gall a new-healed wound: your +day's service at Shrewsbury hath a little gilded +over your night's exploit on Gad's-hill: you may +thank the unquiet time for your quiet o'er-posting +that action. + +FALSTAFF +My lord? +Lord Chief-Justice But since all is well, keep it so: wake not a +sleeping wolf. + +FALSTAFF +To wake a wolf is as bad as to smell a fox. +Lord Chief-Justice What! you are as a candle, the better part burnt +out. + +FALSTAFF +A wassail candle, my lord, all tallow: if I did say +of wax, my growth would approve the truth. +Lord Chief-Justice There is not a white hair on your face but should +have his effect of gravity. + +FALSTAFF +His effect of gravy, gravy, gravy. +Lord Chief-Justice You follow the young prince up and down, like his +ill angel. + +FALSTAFF +Not so, my lord; your ill angel is light; but I hope +he that looks upon me will take me without weighing: +and yet, in some respects, I grant, I cannot go: I +cannot tell. Virtue is of so little regard in these +costermonger times that true valour is turned +bear-herd: pregnancy is made a tapster, and hath +his quick wit wasted in giving reckonings: all the +other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of +this age shapes them, are not worth a gooseberry. +You that are old consider not the capacities of us +that are young; you do measure the heat of our +livers with the bitterness of your galls: and we +that are in the vaward of our youth, I must confess, +are wags too. +Lord Chief-Justice Do you set down your name in the scroll of youth, +that are written down old with all the characters of +age? Have you not a moist eye? a dry hand? a +yellow cheek? a white beard? a decreasing leg? an +increasing belly? is not your voice broken? your +wind short? your chin double? your wit single? and +every part about you blasted with antiquity? and +will you yet call yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John! + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I was born about three of the clock in the +afternoon, with a white head and something a round +belly. For my voice, I have lost it with halloing +and singing of anthems. To approve my youth +further, I will not: the truth is, I am only old in +judgment and understanding; and he that will caper +with me for a thousand marks, let him lend me the +money, and have at him! For the box of the ear that +the prince gave you, he gave it like a rude prince, +and you took it like a sensible lord. I have +chequed him for it, and the young lion repents; +marry, not in ashes and sackcloth, but in new silk +and old sack. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, God send the prince a better companion! + +FALSTAFF +God send the companion a better prince! I cannot +rid my hands of him. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, the king hath severed you and Prince Harry: I +hear you are going with Lord John of Lancaster +against the Archbishop and the Earl of +Northumberland. + +FALSTAFF +Yea; I thank your pretty sweet wit for it. But look +you pray, all you that kiss my lady Peace at home, +that our armies join not in a hot day; for, by the +Lord, I take but two shirts out with me, and I mean +not to sweat extraordinarily: if it be a hot day, +and I brandish any thing but a bottle, I would I +might never spit white again. There is not a +dangerous action can peep out his head but I am +thrust upon it: well, I cannot last ever: but it +was alway yet the trick of our English nation, if +they have a good thing, to make it too common. If +ye will needs say I am an old man, you should give +me rest. I would to God my name were not so +terrible to the enemy as it is: I were better to be +eaten to death with a rust than to be scoured to +nothing with perpetual motion. +Lord Chief-Justice Well, be honest, be honest; and God bless your +expedition! + +FALSTAFF +Will your lordship lend me a thousand pound to +furnish me forth? +Lord Chief-Justice Not a penny, not a penny; you are too impatient to +bear crosses. Fare you well: commend me to my +cousin Westmoreland. + +Exeunt Chief-Justice and Servant + +FALSTAFF +If I do, fillip me with a three-man beetle. A man +can no more separate age and covetousness than a' +can part young limbs and lechery: but the gout +galls the one, and the pox pinches the other; and +so both the degrees prevent my curses. Boy! + +Page +Sir? + +FALSTAFF +What money is in my purse? + +Page +Seven groats and two pence. + +FALSTAFF +I can get no remedy against this consumption of the +purse: borrowing only lingers and lingers it out, +but the disease is incurable. Go bear this letter +to my Lord of Lancaster; this to the prince; this +to the Earl of Westmoreland; and this to old +Mistress Ursula, whom I have weekly sworn to marry +since I perceived the first white hair on my chin. +About it: you know where to find me. + +Exit Page + +A pox of this gout! or, a gout of this pox! for +the one or the other plays the rogue with my great +toe. 'Tis no matter if I do halt; I have the wars +for my colour, and my pension shall seem the more +reasonable. A good wit will make use of any thing: +I will turn diseases to commodity. + +Exit + +SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, the Lords HASTINGS, MOWBRAY, and BARDOLPH +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Thus have you heard our cause and known our means; +And, my most noble friends, I pray you all, +Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes: +And first, lord marshal, what say you to it? + +MOWBRAY +I well allow the occasion of our arms; +But gladly would be better satisfied +How in our means we should advance ourselves +To look with forehead bold and big enough +Upon the power and puissance of the king. + +HASTINGS +Our present musters grow upon the file +To five and twenty thousand men of choice; +And our supplies live largely in the hope +Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns +With an incensed fire of injuries. + +LORD BARDOLPH +The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus; +Whether our present five and twenty thousand +May hold up head without Northumberland? + +HASTINGS +With him, we may. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yea, marry, there's the point: +But if without him we be thought too feeble, +My judgment is, we should not step too far +Till we had his assistance by the hand; +For in a theme so bloody-faced as this +Conjecture, expectation, and surmise +Of aids incertain should not be admitted. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed +It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury. + +LORD BARDOLPH +It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope, +Eating the air on promise of supply, +Flattering himself in project of a power +Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts: +And so, with great imagination +Proper to madmen, led his powers to death +And winking leap'd into destruction. + +HASTINGS +But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt +To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Yes, if this present quality of war, +Indeed the instant action: a cause on foot +Lives so in hope as in an early spring +We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit, +Hope gives not so much warrant as despair +That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build, +We first survey the plot, then draw the model; +And when we see the figure of the house, +Then must we rate the cost of the erection; +Which if we find outweighs ability, +What do we then but draw anew the model +In fewer offices, or at last desist +To build at all? Much more, in this great work, +Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down +And set another up, should we survey +The plot of situation and the model, +Consent upon a sure foundation, +Question surveyors, know our own estate, +How able such a work to undergo, +To weigh against his opposite; or else +We fortify in paper and in figures, +Using the names of men instead of men: +Like one that draws the model of a house +Beyond his power to build it; who, half through, +Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost +A naked subject to the weeping clouds +And waste for churlish winter's tyranny. + +HASTINGS +Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth, +Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd +The utmost man of expectation, +I think we are a body strong enough, +Even as we are, to equal with the king. + +LORD BARDOLPH +What, is the king but five and twenty thousand? + +HASTINGS +To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph. +For his divisions, as the times do brawl, +Are in three heads: one power against the French, +And one against Glendower; perforce a third +Must take up us: so is the unfirm king +In three divided; and his coffers sound +With hollow poverty and emptiness. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +That he should draw his several strengths together +And come against us in full puissance, +Need not be dreaded. + +HASTINGS +If he should do so, +He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh +Baying him at the heels: never fear that. + +LORD BARDOLPH +Who is it like should lead his forces hither? + +HASTINGS +The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland; +Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth: +But who is substituted 'gainst the French, +I have no certain notice. + +ARCHBISHOP OF YORK +Let us on, +And publish the occasion of our arms. +The commonwealth is sick of their own choice; +Their over-greedy love hath surfeited: +An habitation giddy and unsure +Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart. +O thou fond many, with what loud applause +Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke, +Before he was what thou wouldst have him be! +And being now trimm'd in thine own desires, +Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, +That thou provokest thyself to cast him up. +So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge +Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard; +And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up, +And howl'st to find it. What trust is in +these times? +They that, when Richard lived, would have him die, +Are now become enamour'd on his grave: +Thou, that threw'st dust upon his goodly head +When through proud London he came sighing on +After the admired heels of Bolingbroke, +Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again, +And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accursed! +Past and to come seems best; things present worst. + +MOWBRAY +Shall we go draw our numbers and set on? + +HASTINGS +We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY, FANG and his Boy with her, and SNARE following. +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Master Fang, have you entered the action? + +FANG +It is entered. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Where's your yeoman? Is't a lusty yeoman? will a' +stand to 't? + +FANG +Sirrah, where's Snare? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O Lord, ay! good Master Snare. + +SNARE +Here, here. + +FANG +Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all. + +SNARE +It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in +mine own house, and that most beastly: in good +faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his +weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will +spare neither man, woman, nor child. + +FANG +If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +No, nor I neither: I'll be at your elbow. + +FANG +An I but fist him once; an a' come but within my vice,-- + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he's an +infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, +hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not +'scape. A' comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving +your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to +dinner to the Lubber's-head in Lumbert street, to +Master Smooth's the silkman: I pray ye, since my +exion is entered and my case so openly known to the +world, let him be brought in to his answer. A +hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to +bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and +have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed +off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame +to be thought on. There is no honesty in such +dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a +beast, to bear every knave's wrong. Yonder he +comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, +with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master +Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices. + +Enter FALSTAFF, Page, and BARDOLPH + +FALSTAFF +How now! whose mare's dead? what's the matter? + +FANG +Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly. + +FALSTAFF +Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the +villain's head: throw the quean in the channel. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Throw me in the channel! I'll throw thee in the +channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly +rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle +villain! wilt thou kill God's officers and the +king's? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a +honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller. + +FALSTAFF +Keep them off, Bardolph. + +FANG +A rescue! a rescue! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo't, wo't +thou? Thou wo't, wo't ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, +thou hemp-seed! + +FALSTAFF +Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You +fustilarian! I'll tickle your catastrophe. + +Enter the Lord Chief-Justice, and his men + +Lord Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho! + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. +Lord Chief-Justice How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here? +Doth this become your place, your time and business? +You should have been well on your way to York. +Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang'st upon him? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +O most worshipful lord, an't please your grace, I am +a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. +Lord Chief-Justice For what sum? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, +all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; +he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of +his: but I will have some of it out again, or I +will ride thee o' nights like the mare. + +FALSTAFF +I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have +any vantage of ground to get up. +Lord Chief-Justice How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good +temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? +Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so +rough a course to come by her own? + +FALSTAFF +What is the gross sum that I owe thee? + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the +money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a +parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, +at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon +Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke +thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of +Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was +washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady +thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife +Keech, the butcher's wife, come in then and call me +gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of +vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; +whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I +told thee they were ill for a green wound? And +didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, +desire me to be no more so familiarity with such +poor people; saying that ere long they should call +me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me +fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy +book-oath: deny it, if thou canst. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up +and down the town that the eldest son is like you: +she hath been in good case, and the truth is, +poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish +officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your +manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It +is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words +that come with such more than impudent sauciness +from you, can thrust me from a level consideration: +you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the +easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her +serve your uses both in purse and in person. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Yea, in truth, my lord. +Lord Chief-Justice Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and +unpay the villany you have done her: the one you +may do with sterling money, and the other with +current repentance. + +FALSTAFF +My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without +reply. You call honourable boldness impudent +sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say +nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble +duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say +to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, +being upon hasty employment in the king's affairs. +Lord Chief-Justice You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer +in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this +poor woman. + +FALSTAFF +Come hither, hostess. + +Enter GOWER + +Lord Chief-Justice Now, Master Gower, what news? + +GOWER +The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales +Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Faith, you said so before. + +FALSTAFF +As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain +to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my +dining-chambers. + +FALSTAFF +Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy +walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of +the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, +is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these +fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou +canst. Come, an 'twere not for thy humours, there's +not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, +and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in +this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I +know thou wast set on to this. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i' +faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, +la! + +FALSTAFF +Let it alone; I'll make other shift: you'll be a +fool still. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I +hope you'll come to supper. You'll pay me all together? + +FALSTAFF +Will I live? + +To BARDOLPH + +Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on. + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper? + +FALSTAFF +No more words; let's have her. + +Exeunt MISTRESS QUICKLY, BARDOLPH, Officers and Boy + +Lord Chief-Justice I have heard better news. + +FALSTAFF +What's the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Where lay the king last night? + +GOWER +At Basingstoke, my lord. + +FALSTAFF +I hope, my lord, all's well: what is the news, my lord? +Lord Chief-Justice Come all his forces back? + +GOWER +No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, +Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, +Against Northumberland and the Archbishop. + +FALSTAFF +Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? +Lord Chief-Justice You shall have letters of me presently: +Come, go along with me, good Master Gower. + +FALSTAFF +My lord! +Lord Chief-Justice What's the matter? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner? + +GOWER +I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, +good Sir John. +Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to +take soldiers up in counties as you go. + +FALSTAFF +Will you sup with me, Master Gower? +Lord Chief-Justice What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John? + +FALSTAFF +Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool +that taught them me. This is the right fencing +grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. +Lord Chief-Justice Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. Another street. + +Enter PRINCE HENRY and POINS +PRINCE HENRY +Before God, I am exceeding weary. + +POINS +Is't come to that? I had thought weariness durst not +have attached one of so high blood. + +PRINCE HENRY +Faith, it does me; though it discolours the +complexion of my greatness to acknowledge it. Doth +it not show vilely in me to desire small beer? + +POINS +Why, a prince should not be so loosely studied as +to remember so weak a composition. + +PRINCE HENRY +Belike then my appetite was not princely got; for, +by my troth, I do now remember the poor creature, +small beer. But, indeed, these humble +considerations make me out of love with my +greatness. What a disgrace is it to me to remember +thy name! or to know thy face to-morrow! or to +take note how many pair of silk stockings thou +hast, viz. these, and those that were thy +peach-coloured ones! or to bear the inventory of thy +shirts, as, one for superfluity, and another for +use! But that the tennis-court-keeper knows better +than I; for it is a low ebb of linen with thee when +thou keepest not racket there; as thou hast not done +a great while, because the rest of thy low +countries have made a shift to eat up thy holland: +and God knows, whether those that bawl out the ruins +of thy linen shall inherit his kingdom: but the +midwives say the children are not in the fault; +whereupon the world increases, and kindreds are +mightily strengthened. + +POINS +How ill it follows, after you have laboured so hard, +you should talk so idly! Tell me, how many good +young princes would do so, their fathers being so +sick as yours at this time is? + +PRINCE HENRY +Shall I tell thee one thing, Poins? + +POINS +Yes, faith; and let it be an excellent good thing. + +PRINCE HENRY +It shall serve among wits of no higher breeding than thine. + +POINS +Go to; I stand the push of your one thing that you +will tell. + +PRINCE HENRY +Marry, I tell thee, it is not meet that I should be +sad, now my father is sick: albeit I could tell +thee, as to one it pleases me, for fault of a +better, to call my friend, I could be sad, and sad +indeed too. + +POINS +Very hardly upon such a subject. + +PRINCE HENRY +By this hand thou thinkest me as far in the devil's +book as thou and Falstaff for obduracy and +persistency: let the end try the man. But I tell +thee, my heart bleeds inwardly that my father is so +sick: and keeping such vile company as thou art +hath in reason taken from me all ostentation of sorrow. + +POINS +The reason? + +PRINCE HENRY +What wouldst thou think of me, if I should weep? + +POINS +I would think thee a most princely hypocrite. + +PRINCE HENRY +It would be every man's thought; and thou art a +blessed fellow to think as every man thinks: never +a man's thought in the world keeps the road-way +better than thine: every man would think me an +hypocrite indeed. And what accites your most +worshipful thought to think so? + +POINS +Why, because you have been so lewd and so much +engraffed to Falstaff. + +PRINCE HENRY +And to thee. + +POINS +By this light, I am well spoke on; I can hear it +with my own ears: the worst that they can say of +me is that I am a second brother and that I am a +proper fellow of my hands; and those two things, I +confess, I cannot help. By the mass, here comes Bardolph. + +Enter BARDOLPH and Page + +PRINCE HENRY +And the boy that I gave Falstaff: a' had him from +me Christian; and look, if the fat villain have not +transformed him ape. + +BARDOLPH +God save your grace! + +PRINCE HENRY +And yours, most noble Bardolph! + +BARDOLPH +Come, you virtuous ass, you bashful fool, must you +be blushing? wherefore blush you now? What a +maidenly man-at-arms are you become! Is't such a +matter to get a pottle-pot's maidenhead? + +Page +A' calls me e'en now, my lord, through a red +lattice, and I could discern no part of his face +from the window: at last I spied his eyes, and +methought he had made two holes in the ale-wife's +new petticoat and so peeped through. + +PRINCE HENRY +Has not the boy profited? + +BARDOLPH +Away, you whoreson upright rabbit, away! + +Page +Away, you rascally Althaea's dream, away! + +PRINCE HENRY +Instruct us, boy; what dream, boy? + +Page +Marry, my lord, Althaea dreamed she was delivered +of a fire-brand; and therefore I call him her dream. + +PRINCE HENRY +A crown's worth of good interpretation: there 'tis, +boy. + +POINS +O, that this good blossom could be kept from +cankers! Well, there is sixpence to preserve thee. + +BARDOLPH +An you do not make him hanged among you, the +gallows shall have wrong. + +PRINCE HENRY +And how doth thy master, Bardolph? + +BARDOLPH +Well, my lord. He heard of your grace's coming to +town: there's a letter for you. + +POINS +Delivered with good respect. And how doth the +martlemas, your master? + +BARDOLPH +In bodily health, sir. + +POINS +Marry, the immortal part needs a physician; but +that moves not him: though that be sick, it dies +not. + +PRINCE HENRY +I do allow this wen to be as familiar with me as my +dog; and he holds his place; for look you how be writes. + +POINS +[Reads] 'John Falstaff, knight,'--every man must +know that, as oft as he has occasion to name +himself: even like those that are kin to the king; +for they never prick their finger but they say, +'There's some of the king's blood spilt.' 'How +comes that?' says he, that takes upon him not to +conceive. The answer is as ready as a borrower's +cap, 'I am the king's poor cousin, sir.' + +PRINCE HENRY +Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it +from Japhet. But to the letter. + +POINS +[Reads] 'Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of +the king, nearest his father, Harry Prince of +Wales, greeting.' Why, this is a certificate. + +PRINCE HENRY +Peace! + +POINS +[Reads] 'I will imitate the honourable Romans in +brevity:' he sure means brevity in breath, +short-winded. 'I commend me to thee, I commend +thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with +Poins; for he misuses thy favours so much, that he +swears thou art to marry his sister Nell. Repent +at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell. +Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to +say, as thou usest him, JACK FALSTAFF with my +familiars, JOHN with my brothers and sisters, +and SIR JOHN with all Europe.' +My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it. + +PRINCE HENRY +That's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do +you use me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister? + +POINS +God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so. + +PRINCE HENRY +Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the +spirits of the wise sit in the clouds and mock us. +Is your master here in London? + +BARDOLPH +Yea, my lord. + +PRINCE HENRY +Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank? + +BARDOLPH +At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap. + +PRINCE HENRY +What company? + +Page +Ephesians, my lord, of the old church. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sup any women with him? + +Page +None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and +Mistress Doll Tearsheet. + +PRINCE HENRY +What pagan may that be? + +Page +A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's. + +PRINCE HENRY +Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town +bull. Shall we steal upon them, Ned, at supper? + +POINS +I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you. + +PRINCE HENRY +Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your +master that I am yet come to town: there's for +your silence. + +BARDOLPH +I have no tongue, sir. + +Page +And for mine, sir, I will govern it. + +PRINCE HENRY +Fare you well; go. + +Exeunt BARDOLPH and Page + +This Doll Tearsheet should be some road. + +POINS +I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint +Alban's and London. + +PRINCE HENRY +How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night +in his true colours, and not ourselves be seen? + +POINS +Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait +upon him at his table as drawers. + +PRINCE HENRY +From a God to a bull? a heavy decension! it was +Jove's case. From a prince to a prentice? a low +transformation! that shall be mine; for in every +thing the purpose must weigh with the folly. +Follow me, Ned. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, LADY NORTHUMBERLAND, and LADY PERCY +NORTHUMBERLAND +I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter, +Give even way unto my rough affairs: +Put not you on the visage of the times +And be like them to Percy troublesome. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +I have given over, I will speak no more: +Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn; +And, but my going, nothing can redeem it. + +LADY PERCY +O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars! +The time was, father, that you broke your word, +When you were more endeared to it than now; +When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry, +Threw many a northward look to see his father +Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain. +Who then persuaded you to stay at home? +There were two honours lost, yours and your son's. +For yours, the God of heaven brighten it! +For his, it stuck upon him as the sun +In the grey vault of heaven, and by his light +Did all the chivalry of England move +To do brave acts: he was indeed the glass +Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves: +He had no legs that practised not his gait; +And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish, +Became the accents of the valiant; +For those that could speak low and tardily +Would turn their own perfection to abuse, +To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait, +In diet, in affections of delight, +In military rules, humours of blood, +He was the mark and glass, copy and book, +That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him! +O miracle of men! him did you leave, +Second to none, unseconded by you, +To look upon the hideous god of war +In disadvantage; to abide a field +Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name +Did seem defensible: so you left him. +Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong +To hold your honour more precise and nice +With others than with him! let them alone: +The marshal and the archbishop are strong: +Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers, +To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck, +Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew your heart, +Fair daughter, you do draw my spirits from me +With new lamenting ancient oversights. +But I must go and meet with danger there, +Or it will seek me in another place +And find me worse provided. +LADY + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, fly to Scotland, +Till that the nobles and the armed commons +Have of their puissance made a little taste. + +LADY PERCY +If they get ground and vantage of the king, +Then join you with them, like a rib of steel, +To make strength stronger; but, for all our loves, +First let them try themselves. So did your son; +He was so suffer'd: so came I a widow; +And never shall have length of life enough +To rain upon remembrance with mine eyes, +That it may grow and sprout as high as heaven, +For recordation to my noble husband. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Come, come, go in with me. 'Tis with my mind +As with the tide swell'd up unto his height, +That makes a still-stand, running neither way: +Fain would I go to meet the archbishop, +But many thousand reasons hold me back. +I will resolve for Scotland: there am I, +Till time and vantage crave my company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap. + +Enter two Drawers +First Drawer +What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? +thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john. + +Second Drawer +Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish +of apple-johns before him, and told him there were +five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said +'I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, +old, withered knights.' It angered him to the +heart: but he hath forgot that. + +First Drawer +Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if +thou canst find out Sneak's noise; Mistress +Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the +room where they supped is too hot; they'll come in straight. + +Second Drawer +Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins +anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and +aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph +hath brought word. + +First Drawer +By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an +excellent stratagem. + +Second Drawer +I'll see if I can find out Sneak. + +Exit + +Enter MISTRESS QUICKLY and DOLL TEARSHEET + +MISTRESS QUICKLY +I' faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an +excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as +extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your +colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good +truth, la! But, i' faith, you have drunk too much +canaries; and that's a marvellous searching wine, +and it perfumes the blood ere one can say 'What's +this?' How do you now? + +DOLL TEARSHEET +Better than I was: hem! + +The Life of King Henry the Fifth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry V | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend +The brightest heaven of invention, +A kingdom for a stage, princes to act +And monarchs to behold the swelling scene! +Then should the warlike Harry, like himself, +Assume the port of Mars; and at his heels, +Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire +Crouch for employment. But pardon, and gentles all, +The flat unraised spirits that have dared +On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth +So great an object: can this cockpit hold +The vasty fields of France? or may we cram +Within this wooden O the very casques +That did affright the air at Agincourt? +O, pardon! since a crooked figure may +Attest in little place a million; +And let us, ciphers to this great accompt, +On your imaginary forces work. +Suppose within the girdle of these walls +Are now confined two mighty monarchies, +Whose high upreared and abutting fronts +The perilous narrow ocean parts asunder: +Piece out our imperfections with your thoughts; +Into a thousand parts divide on man, +And make imaginary puissance; +Think when we talk of horses, that you see them +Printing their proud hoofs i' the receiving earth; +For 'tis your thoughts that now must deck our kings, +Carry them here and there; jumping o'er times, +Turning the accomplishment of many years +Into an hour-glass: for the which supply, +Admit me Chorus to this history; +Who prologue-like your humble patience pray, +Gently to hear, kindly to judge, our play. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the KING'S palace. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP OF ELY +CANTERBURY +My lord, I'll tell you; that self bill is urged, +Which in the eleventh year of the last king's reign +Was like, and had indeed against us pass'd, +But that the scambling and unquiet time +Did push it out of farther question. + +ELY +But how, my lord, shall we resist it now? + +CANTERBURY +It must be thought on. If it pass against us, +We lose the better half of our possession: +For all the temporal lands which men devout +By testament have given to the church +Would they strip from us; being valued thus: +As much as would maintain, to the king's honour, +Full fifteen earls and fifteen hundred knights, +Six thousand and two hundred good esquires; +And, to relief of lazars and weak age, +Of indigent faint souls past corporal toil. +A hundred almshouses right well supplied; +And to the coffers of the king beside, +A thousand pounds by the year: thus runs the bill. + +ELY +This would drink deep. + +CANTERBURY +'Twould drink the cup and all. + +ELY +But what prevention? + +CANTERBURY +The king is full of grace and fair regard. + +ELY +And a true lover of the holy church. + +CANTERBURY +The courses of his youth promised it not. +The breath no sooner left his father's body, +But that his wildness, mortified in him, +Seem'd to die too; yea, at that very moment +Consideration, like an angel, came +And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, +Leaving his body as a paradise, +To envelop and contain celestial spirits. +Never was such a sudden scholar made; +Never came reformation in a flood, +With such a heady currance, scouring faults +Nor never Hydra-headed wilfulness +So soon did lose his seat and all at once +As in this king. + +ELY +We are blessed in the change. + +CANTERBURY +Hear him but reason in divinity, +And all-admiring with an inward wish +You would desire the king were made a prelate: +Hear him debate of commonwealth affairs, +You would say it hath been all in all his study: +List his discourse of war, and you shall hear +A fearful battle render'd you in music: +Turn him to any cause of policy, +The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, +Familiar as his garter: that, when he speaks, +The air, a charter'd libertine, is still, +And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, +To steal his sweet and honey'd sentences; +So that the art and practic part of life +Must be the mistress to this theoric: +Which is a wonder how his grace should glean it, +Since his addiction was to courses vain, +His companies unletter'd, rude and shallow, +His hours fill'd up with riots, banquets, sports, +And never noted in him any study, +Any retirement, any sequestration +From open haunts and popularity. + +ELY +The strawberry grows underneath the nettle +And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best +Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality: +And so the prince obscured his contemplation +Under the veil of wildness; which, no doubt, +Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, +Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty. + +CANTERBURY +It must be so; for miracles are ceased; +And therefore we must needs admit the means +How things are perfected. + +ELY +But, my good lord, +How now for mitigation of this bill +Urged by the commons? Doth his majesty +Incline to it, or no? + +CANTERBURY +He seems indifferent, +Or rather swaying more upon our part +Than cherishing the exhibiters against us; +For I have made an offer to his majesty, +Upon our spiritual convocation +And in regard of causes now in hand, +Which I have open'd to his grace at large, +As touching France, to give a greater sum +Than ever at one time the clergy yet +Did to his predecessors part withal. + +ELY +How did this offer seem received, my lord? + +CANTERBURY +With good acceptance of his majesty; +Save that there was not time enough to hear, +As I perceived his grace would fain have done, +The severals and unhidden passages +Of his true titles to some certain dukedoms +And generally to the crown and seat of France +Derived from Edward, his great-grandfather. + +ELY +What was the impediment that broke this off? + +CANTERBURY +The French ambassador upon that instant +Craved audience; and the hour, I think, is come +To give him hearing: is it four o'clock? + +ELY +It is. + +CANTERBURY +Then go we in, to know his embassy; +Which I could with a ready guess declare, +Before the Frenchman speak a word of it. + +ELY +I'll wait upon you, and I long to hear it. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Presence chamber. + +Enter KING HENRY V, GLOUCESTER, BEDFORD, EXETER, WARWICK, WESTMORELAND, and Attendants +KING HENRY V +Where is my gracious Lord of Canterbury? + +EXETER +Not here in presence. + +KING HENRY V +Send for him, good uncle. + +WESTMORELAND +Shall we call in the ambassador, my liege? + +KING HENRY V +Not yet, my cousin: we would be resolved, +Before we hear him, of some things of weight +That task our thoughts, concerning us and France. + +Enter the ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY, and the BISHOP of ELY + +CANTERBURY +God and his angels guard your sacred throne +And make you long become it! + +KING HENRY V +Sure, we thank you. +My learned lord, we pray you to proceed +And justly and religiously unfold +Why the law Salique that they have in France +Or should, or should not, bar us in our claim: +And God forbid, my dear and faithful lord, +That you should fashion, wrest, or bow your reading, +Or nicely charge your understanding soul +With opening titles miscreate, whose right +Suits not in native colours with the truth; +For God doth know how many now in health +Shall drop their blood in approbation +Of what your reverence shall incite us to. +Therefore take heed how you impawn our person, +How you awake our sleeping sword of war: +We charge you, in the name of God, take heed; +For never two such kingdoms did contend +Without much fall of blood; whose guiltless drops +Are every one a woe, a sore complaint +'Gainst him whose wrong gives edge unto the swords +That make such waste in brief mortality. +Under this conjuration, speak, my lord; +For we will hear, note and believe in heart +That what you speak is in your conscience wash'd +As pure as sin with baptism. + +CANTERBURY +Then hear me, gracious sovereign, and you peers, +That owe yourselves, your lives and services +To this imperial throne. There is no bar +To make against your highness' claim to France +But this, which they produce from Pharamond, +'In terram Salicam mulieres ne succedant:' +'No woman shall succeed in Salique land:' +Which Salique land the French unjustly gloze +To be the realm of France, and Pharamond +The founder of this law and female bar. +Yet their own authors faithfully affirm +That the land Salique is in Germany, +Between the floods of Sala and of Elbe; +Where Charles the Great, having subdued the Saxons, +There left behind and settled certain French; +Who, holding in disdain the German women +For some dishonest manners of their life, +Establish'd then this law; to wit, no female +Should be inheritrix in Salique land: +Which Salique, as I said, 'twixt Elbe and Sala, +Is at this day in Germany call'd Meisen. +Then doth it well appear that Salique law +Was not devised for the realm of France: +Nor did the French possess the Salique land +Until four hundred one and twenty years +After defunction of King Pharamond, +Idly supposed the founder of this law; +Who died within the year of our redemption +Four hundred twenty-six; and Charles the Great +Subdued the Saxons, and did seat the French +Beyond the river Sala, in the year +Eight hundred five. Besides, their writers say, +King Pepin, which deposed Childeric, +Did, as heir general, being descended +Of Blithild, which was daughter to King Clothair, +Make claim and title to the crown of France. +Hugh Capet also, who usurped the crown +Of Charles the duke of Lorraine, sole heir male +Of the true line and stock of Charles the Great, +To find his title with some shows of truth, +'Through, in pure truth, it was corrupt and naught, +Convey'd himself as heir to the Lady Lingare, +Daughter to Charlemain, who was the son +To Lewis the emperor, and Lewis the son +Of Charles the Great. Also King Lewis the Tenth, +Who was sole heir to the usurper Capet, +Could not keep quiet in his conscience, +Wearing the crown of France, till satisfied +That fair Queen Isabel, his grandmother, +Was lineal of the Lady Ermengare, +Daughter to Charles the foresaid duke of Lorraine: +By the which marriage the line of Charles the Great +Was re-united to the crown of France. +So that, as clear as is the summer's sun. +King Pepin's title and Hugh Capet's claim, +King Lewis his satisfaction, all appear +To hold in right and title of the female: +So do the kings of France unto this day; +Howbeit they would hold up this Salique law +To bar your highness claiming from the female, +And rather choose to hide them in a net +Than amply to imbar their crooked titles +Usurp'd from you and your progenitors. + +KING HENRY V +May I with right and conscience make this claim? + +CANTERBURY +The sin upon my head, dread sovereign! +For in the book of Numbers is it writ, +When the man dies, let the inheritance +Descend unto the daughter. Gracious lord, +Stand for your own; unwind your bloody flag; +Look back into your mighty ancestors: +Go, my dread lord, to your great-grandsire's tomb, +From whom you claim; invoke his warlike spirit, +And your great-uncle's, Edward the Black Prince, +Who on the French ground play'd a tragedy, +Making defeat on the full power of France, +Whiles his most mighty father on a hill +Stood smiling to behold his lion's whelp +Forage in blood of French nobility. +O noble English. that could entertain +With half their forces the full Pride of France +And let another half stand laughing by, +All out of work and cold for action! + +ELY +Awake remembrance of these valiant dead +And with your puissant arm renew their feats: +You are their heir; you sit upon their throne; +The blood and courage that renowned them +Runs in your veins; and my thrice-puissant liege +Is in the very May-morn of his youth, +Ripe for exploits and mighty enterprises. + +EXETER +Your brother kings and monarchs of the earth +Do all expect that you should rouse yourself, +As did the former lions of your blood. + +WESTMORELAND +They know your grace hath cause and means and might; +So hath your highness; never king of England +Had nobles richer and more loyal subjects, +Whose hearts have left their bodies here in England +And lie pavilion'd in the fields of France. + +CANTERBURY +O, let their bodies follow, my dear liege, +With blood and sword and fire to win your right; +In aid whereof we of the spiritualty +Will raise your highness such a mighty sum +As never did the clergy at one time +Bring in to any of your ancestors. + +KING HENRY V +We must not only arm to invade the French, +But lay down our proportions to defend +Against the Scot, who will make road upon us +With all advantages. + +CANTERBURY +They of those marches, gracious sovereign, +Shall be a wall sufficient to defend +Our inland from the pilfering borderers. + +KING HENRY V +We do not mean the coursing snatchers only, +But fear the main intendment of the Scot, +Who hath been still a giddy neighbour to us; +For you shall read that my great-grandfather +Never went with his forces into France +But that the Scot on his unfurnish'd kingdom +Came pouring, like the tide into a breach, +With ample and brim fulness of his force, +Galling the gleaned land with hot assays, +Girding with grievous siege castles and towns; +That England, being empty of defence, +Hath shook and trembled at the ill neighbourhood. + +CANTERBURY +She hath been then more fear'd than harm'd, my liege; +For hear her but exampled by herself: +When all her chivalry hath been in France +And she a mourning widow of her nobles, +She hath herself not only well defended +But taken and impounded as a stray +The King of Scots; whom she did send to France, +To fill King Edward's fame with prisoner kings +And make her chronicle as rich with praise +As is the ooze and bottom of the sea +With sunken wreck and sunless treasuries. + +WESTMORELAND +But there's a saying very old and true, +'If that you will France win, +Then with Scotland first begin:' +For once the eagle England being in prey, +To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot +Comes sneaking and so sucks her princely eggs, +Playing the mouse in absence of the cat, +To tear and havoc more than she can eat. + +EXETER +It follows then the cat must stay at home: +Yet that is but a crush'd necessity, +Since we have locks to safeguard necessaries, +And pretty traps to catch the petty thieves. +While that the armed hand doth fight abroad, +The advised head defends itself at home; +For government, though high and low and lower, +Put into parts, doth keep in one consent, +Congreeing in a full and natural close, +Like music. + +CANTERBURY +Therefore doth heaven divide +The state of man in divers functions, +Setting endeavour in continual motion; +To which is fixed, as an aim or butt, +Obedience: for so work the honey-bees, +Creatures that by a rule in nature teach +The act of order to a peopled kingdom. +They have a king and officers of sorts; +Where some, like magistrates, correct at home, +Others, like merchants, venture trade abroad, +Others, like soldiers, armed in their stings, +Make boot upon the summer's velvet buds, +Which pillage they with merry march bring home +To the tent-royal of their emperor; +Who, busied in his majesty, surveys +The singing masons building roofs of gold, +The civil citizens kneading up the honey, +The poor mechanic porters crowding in +Their heavy burdens at his narrow gate, +The sad-eyed justice, with his surly hum, +Delivering o'er to executors pale +The lazy yawning drone. I this infer, +That many things, having full reference +To one consent, may work contrariously: +As many arrows, loosed several ways, +Come to one mark; as many ways meet in one town; +As many fresh streams meet in one salt sea; +As many lines close in the dial's centre; +So may a thousand actions, once afoot. +End in one purpose, and be all well borne +Without defeat. Therefore to France, my liege. +Divide your happy England into four; +Whereof take you one quarter into France, +And you withal shall make all Gallia shake. +If we, with thrice such powers left at home, +Cannot defend our own doors from the dog, +Let us be worried and our nation lose +The name of hardiness and policy. + +KING HENRY V +Call in the messengers sent from the Dauphin. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +Now are we well resolved; and, by God's help, +And yours, the noble sinews of our power, +France being ours, we'll bend it to our awe, +Or break it all to pieces: or there we'll sit, +Ruling in large and ample empery +O'er France and all her almost kingly dukedoms, +Or lay these bones in an unworthy urn, +Tombless, with no remembrance over them: +Either our history shall with full mouth +Speak freely of our acts, or else our grave, +Like Turkish mute, shall have a tongueless mouth, +Not worshipp'd with a waxen epitaph. + +Enter Ambassadors of France + +Now are we well prepared to know the pleasure +Of our fair cousin Dauphin; for we hear +Your greeting is from him, not from the king. + +First Ambassador +May't please your majesty to give us leave +Freely to render what we have in charge; +Or shall we sparingly show you far off +The Dauphin's meaning and our embassy? + +KING HENRY V +We are no tyrant, but a Christian king; +Unto whose grace our passion is as subject +As are our wretches fetter'd in our prisons: +Therefore with frank and with uncurbed plainness +Tell us the Dauphin's mind. + +First Ambassador +Thus, then, in few. +Your highness, lately sending into France, +Did claim some certain dukedoms, in the right +Of your great predecessor, King Edward the Third. +In answer of which claim, the prince our master +Says that you savour too much of your youth, +And bids you be advised there's nought in France +That can be with a nimble galliard won; +You cannot revel into dukedoms there. +He therefore sends you, meeter for your spirit, +This tun of treasure; and, in lieu of this, +Desires you let the dukedoms that you claim +Hear no more of you. This the Dauphin speaks. + +KING HENRY V +What treasure, uncle? + +EXETER +Tennis-balls, my liege. + +KING HENRY V +We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us; +His present and your pains we thank you for: +When we have march'd our rackets to these balls, +We will, in France, by God's grace, play a set +Shall strike his father's crown into the hazard. +Tell him he hath made a match with such a wrangler +That all the courts of France will be disturb'd +With chaces. And we understand him well, +How he comes o'er us with our wilder days, +Not measuring what use we made of them. +We never valued this poor seat of England; +And therefore, living hence, did give ourself +To barbarous licence; as 'tis ever common +That men are merriest when they are from home. +But tell the Dauphin I will keep my state, +Be like a king and show my sail of greatness +When I do rouse me in my throne of France: +For that I have laid by my majesty +And plodded like a man for working-days, +But I will rise there with so full a glory +That I will dazzle all the eyes of France, +Yea, strike the Dauphin blind to look on us. +And tell the pleasant prince this mock of his +Hath turn'd his balls to gun-stones; and his soul +Shall stand sore charged for the wasteful vengeance +That shall fly with them: for many a thousand widows +Shall this his mock mock out of their dear husbands; +Mock mothers from their sons, mock castles down; +And some are yet ungotten and unborn +That shall have cause to curse the Dauphin's scorn. +But this lies all within the will of God, +To whom I do appeal; and in whose name +Tell you the Dauphin I am coming on, +To venge me as I may and to put forth +My rightful hand in a well-hallow'd cause. +So get you hence in peace; and tell the Dauphin +His jest will savour but of shallow wit, +When thousands weep more than did laugh at it. +Convey them with safe conduct. Fare you well. + +Exeunt Ambassadors + +EXETER +This was a merry message. + +KING HENRY V +We hope to make the sender blush at it. +Therefore, my lords, omit no happy hour +That may give furtherance to our expedition; +For we have now no thought in us but France, +Save those to God, that run before our business. +Therefore let our proportions for these wars +Be soon collected and all things thought upon +That may with reasonable swiftness add +More feathers to our wings; for, God before, +We'll chide this Dauphin at his father's door. +Therefore let every man now task his thought, +That this fair action may on foot be brought. + +Exeunt. Flourish + + +ACT II +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Now all the youth of England are on fire, +And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies: +Now thrive the armourers, and honour's thought +Reigns solely in the breast of every man: +They sell the pasture now to buy the horse, +Following the mirror of all Christian kings, +With winged heels, as English Mercuries. +For now sits Expectation in the air, +And hides a sword from hilts unto the point +With crowns imperial, crowns and coronets, +Promised to Harry and his followers. +The French, advised by good intelligence +Of this most dreadful preparation, +Shake in their fear and with pale policy +Seek to divert the English purposes. +O England! model to thy inward greatness, +Like little body with a mighty heart, +What mightst thou do, that honour would thee do, +Were all thy children kind and natural! +But see thy fault! France hath in thee found out +A nest of hollow bosoms, which he fills +With treacherous crowns; and three corrupted men, +One, Richard Earl of Cambridge, and the second, +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham, and the third, +Sir Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland, +Have, for the gilt of France,--O guilt indeed! +Confirm'd conspiracy with fearful France; +And by their hands this grace of kings must die, +If hell and treason hold their promises, +Ere he take ship for France, and in Southampton. +Linger your patience on; and we'll digest +The abuse of distance; force a play: +The sum is paid; the traitors are agreed; +The king is set from London; and the scene +Is now transported, gentles, to Southampton; +There is the playhouse now, there must you sit: +And thence to France shall we convey you safe, +And bring you back, charming the narrow seas +To give you gentle pass; for, if we may, +We'll not offend one stomach with our play. +But, till the king come forth, and not till then, +Unto Southampton do we shift our scene. + +Exit + +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter Corporal NYM and Lieutenant BARDOLPH +BARDOLPH +Well met, Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Good morrow, Lieutenant Bardolph. + +BARDOLPH +What, are Ancient Pistol and you friends yet? + +NYM +For my part, I care not: I say little; but when +time shall serve, there shall be smiles; but that +shall be as it may. I dare not fight; but I will +wink and hold out mine iron: it is a simple one; but +what though? it will toast cheese, and it will +endure cold as another man's sword will: and +there's an end. + +BARDOLPH +I will bestow a breakfast to make you friends; and +we'll be all three sworn brothers to France: let it +be so, good Corporal Nym. + +NYM +Faith, I will live so long as I may, that's the +certain of it; and when I cannot live any longer, I +will do as I may: that is my rest, that is the +rendezvous of it. + +BARDOLPH +It is certain, corporal, that he is married to Nell +Quickly: and certainly she did you wrong; for you +were troth-plight to her. + +NYM +I cannot tell: things must be as they may: men may +sleep, and they may have their throats about them at +that time; and some say knives have edges. It must +be as it may: though patience be a tired mare, yet +she will plod. There must be conclusions. Well, I +cannot tell. + +Enter PISTOL and Hostess + +BARDOLPH +Here comes Ancient Pistol and his wife: good +corporal, be patient here. How now, mine host Pistol! + +PISTOL +Base tike, call'st thou me host? Now, by this hand, +I swear, I scorn the term; Nor shall my Nell keep lodgers. + +Hostess +No, by my troth, not long; for we cannot lodge and +board a dozen or fourteen gentlewomen that live +honestly by the prick of their needles, but it will +be thought we keep a bawdy house straight. + +NYM and PISTOL draw + +O well a day, Lady, if he be not drawn now! we +shall see wilful adultery and murder committed. + +BARDOLPH +Good lieutenant! good corporal! offer nothing here. + +NYM +Pish! + +PISTOL +Pish for thee, Iceland dog! thou prick-ear'd cur of Iceland! + +Hostess +Good Corporal Nym, show thy valour, and put up your sword. + +NYM +Will you shog off? I would have you solus. + +PISTOL +'Solus,' egregious dog? O viper vile! +The 'solus' in thy most mervailous face; +The 'solus' in thy teeth, and in thy throat, +And in thy hateful lungs, yea, in thy maw, perdy, +And, which is worse, within thy nasty mouth! +I do retort the 'solus' in thy bowels; +For I can take, and Pistol's cock is up, +And flashing fire will follow. + +NYM +I am not Barbason; you cannot conjure me. I have an +humour to knock you indifferently well. If you grow +foul with me, Pistol, I will scour you with my +rapier, as I may, in fair terms: if you would walk +off, I would prick your guts a little, in good +terms, as I may: and that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +O braggart vile and damned furious wight! +The grave doth gape, and doting death is near; +Therefore exhale. + +BARDOLPH +Hear me, hear me what I say: he that strikes the +first stroke, I'll run him up to the hilts, as I am a soldier. + +Draws + +PISTOL +An oath of mickle might; and fury shall abate. +Give me thy fist, thy fore-foot to me give: +Thy spirits are most tall. + +NYM +I will cut thy throat, one time or other, in fair +terms: that is the humour of it. + +PISTOL +'Couple a gorge!' +That is the word. I thee defy again. +O hound of Crete, think'st thou my spouse to get? +No; to the spital go, +And from the powdering tub of infamy +Fetch forth the lazar kite of Cressid's kind, +Doll Tearsheet she by name, and her espouse: +I have, and I will hold, the quondam Quickly +For the only she; and--pauca, there's enough. Go to. + +Enter the Boy + +Boy +Mine host Pistol, you must come to my master, and +you, hostess: he is very sick, and would to bed. +Good Bardolph, put thy face between his sheets, and +do the office of a warming-pan. Faith, he's very ill. + +BARDOLPH +Away, you rogue! + +Hostess +By my troth, he'll yield the crow a pudding one of +these days. The king has killed his heart. Good +husband, come home presently. + +Exeunt Hostess and Boy + +BARDOLPH +Come, shall I make you two friends? We must to +France together: why the devil should we keep +knives to cut one another's throats? + +PISTOL +Let floods o'erswell, and fiends for food howl on! + +NYM +You'll pay me the eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +Base is the slave that pays. + +NYM +That now I will have: that's the humour of it. + +PISTOL +As manhood shall compound: push home. + +They draw + +BARDOLPH +By this sword, he that makes the first thrust, I'll +kill him; by this sword, I will. + +PISTOL +Sword is an oath, and oaths must have their course. + +BARDOLPH +Corporal Nym, an thou wilt be friends, be friends: +an thou wilt not, why, then, be enemies with me too. +Prithee, put up. + +NYM +I shall have my eight shillings I won of you at betting? + +PISTOL +A noble shalt thou have, and present pay; +And liquor likewise will I give to thee, +And friendship shall combine, and brotherhood: +I'll live by Nym, and Nym shall live by me; +Is not this just? for I shall sutler be +Unto the camp, and profits will accrue. +Give me thy hand. + +NYM +I shall have my noble? + +PISTOL +In cash most justly paid. + +NYM +Well, then, that's the humour of't. + +Re-enter Hostess + +Hostess +As ever you came of women, come in quickly to Sir +John. Ah, poor heart! he is so shaked of a burning +quotidian tertian, that it is most lamentable to +behold. Sweet men, come to him. + +NYM +The king hath run bad humours on the knight; that's +the even of it. + +PISTOL +Nym, thou hast spoke the right; +His heart is fracted and corroborate. + +NYM +The king is a good king: but it must be as it may; +he passes some humours and careers. + +PISTOL +Let us condole the knight; for, lambkins we will live. + +SCENE II. Southampton. A council-chamber. + +Enter EXETER, BEDFORD, and WESTMORELAND +BEDFORD +'Fore God, his grace is bold, to trust these traitors. + +EXETER +They shall be apprehended by and by. + +WESTMORELAND +How smooth and even they do bear themselves! +As if allegiance in their bosoms sat, +Crowned with faith and constant loyalty. + +BEDFORD +The king hath note of all that they intend, +By interception which they dream not of. + +EXETER +Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, +Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours, +That he should, for a foreign purse, so sell +His sovereign's life to death and treachery. + +Trumpets sound. Enter KING HENRY V, SCROOP, CAMBRIDGE, GREY, and Attendants + +KING HENRY V +Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard. +My Lord of Cambridge, and my kind Lord of Masham, +And you, my gentle knight, give me your thoughts: +Think you not that the powers we bear with us +Will cut their passage through the force of France, +Doing the execution and the act +For which we have in head assembled them? + +SCROOP +No doubt, my liege, if each man do his best. + +KING HENRY V +I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded +We carry not a heart with us from hence +That grows not in a fair consent with ours, +Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish +Success and conquest to attend on us. + +CAMBRIDGE +Never was monarch better fear'd and loved +Than is your majesty: there's not, I think, a subject +That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness +Under the sweet shade of your government. + +GREY +True: those that were your father's enemies +Have steep'd their galls in honey and do serve you +With hearts create of duty and of zeal. + +KING HENRY V +We therefore have great cause of thankfulness; +And shall forget the office of our hand, +Sooner than quittance of desert and merit +According to the weight and worthiness. + +SCROOP +So service shall with steeled sinews toil, +And labour shall refresh itself with hope, +To do your grace incessant services. + +KING HENRY V +We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter, +Enlarge the man committed yesterday, +That rail'd against our person: we consider +it was excess of wine that set him on; +And on his more advice we pardon him. + +SCROOP +That's mercy, but too much security: +Let him be punish'd, sovereign, lest example +Breed, by his sufferance, more of such a kind. + +KING HENRY V +O, let us yet be merciful. + +CAMBRIDGE +So may your highness, and yet punish too. + +GREY +Sir, +You show great mercy, if you give him life, +After the taste of much correction. + +KING HENRY V +Alas, your too much love and care of me +Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch! +If little faults, proceeding on distemper, +Shall not be wink'd at, how shall we stretch our eye +When capital crimes, chew'd, swallow'd and digested, +Appear before us? We'll yet enlarge that man, +Though Cambridge, Scroop and Grey, in their dear care +And tender preservation of our person, +Would have him punished. And now to our French causes: +Who are the late commissioners? + +CAMBRIDGE +I one, my lord: +Your highness bade me ask for it to-day. + +SCROOP +So did you me, my liege. + +GREY +And I, my royal sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +Then, Richard Earl of Cambridge, there is yours; +There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and, sir knight, +Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours: +Read them; and know, I know your worthiness. +My Lord of Westmoreland, and uncle Exeter, +We will aboard to night. Why, how now, gentlemen! +What see you in those papers that you lose +So much complexion? Look ye, how they change! +Their cheeks are paper. Why, what read you there +That hath so cowarded and chased your blood +Out of appearance? + +CAMBRIDGE +I do confess my fault; +And do submit me to your highness' mercy. + +GREY SCROOP +To which we all appeal. + +KING HENRY V +The mercy that was quick in us but late, +By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd: +You must not dare, for shame, to talk of mercy; +For your own reasons turn into your bosoms, +As dogs upon their masters, worrying you. +See you, my princes, and my noble peers, +These English monsters! My Lord of Cambridge here, +You know how apt our love was to accord +To furnish him with all appertinents +Belonging to his honour; and this man +Hath, for a few light crowns, lightly conspired, +And sworn unto the practises of France, +To kill us here in Hampton: to the which +This knight, no less for bounty bound to us +Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But, O, +What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop? thou cruel, +Ingrateful, savage and inhuman creature! +Thou that didst bear the key of all my counsels, +That knew'st the very bottom of my soul, +That almost mightst have coin'd me into gold, +Wouldst thou have practised on me for thy use, +May it be possible, that foreign hire +Could out of thee extract one spark of evil +That might annoy my finger? 'tis so strange, +That, though the truth of it stands off as gross +As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it. +Treason and murder ever kept together, +As two yoke-devils sworn to either's purpose, +Working so grossly in a natural cause, +That admiration did not whoop at them: +But thou, 'gainst all proportion, didst bring in +Wonder to wait on treason and on murder: +And whatsoever cunning fiend it was +That wrought upon thee so preposterously +Hath got the voice in hell for excellence: +All other devils that suggest by treasons +Do botch and bungle up damnation +With patches, colours, and with forms being fetch'd +From glistering semblances of piety; +But he that temper'd thee bade thee stand up, +Gave thee no instance why thou shouldst do treason, +Unless to dub thee with the name of traitor. +If that same demon that hath gull'd thee thus +Should with his lion gait walk the whole world, +He might return to vasty Tartar back, +And tell the legions 'I can never win +A soul so easy as that Englishman's.' +O, how hast thou with 'jealousy infected +The sweetness of affiance! Show men dutiful? +Why, so didst thou: seem they grave and learned? +Why, so didst thou: come they of noble family? +Why, so didst thou: seem they religious? +Why, so didst thou: or are they spare in diet, +Free from gross passion or of mirth or anger, +Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood, +Garnish'd and deck'd in modest complement, +Not working with the eye without the ear, +And but in purged judgment trusting neither? +Such and so finely bolted didst thou seem: +And thus thy fall hath left a kind of blot, +To mark the full-fraught man and best indued +With some suspicion. I will weep for thee; +For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like +Another fall of man. Their faults are open: +Arrest them to the answer of the law; +And God acquit them of their practises! + +EXETER +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Richard Earl of Cambridge. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Henry Lord Scroop of Masham. +I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of +Thomas Grey, knight, of Northumberland. + +SCROOP +Our purposes God justly hath discover'd; +And I repent my fault more than my death; +Which I beseech your highness to forgive, +Although my body pay the price of it. + +CAMBRIDGE +For me, the gold of France did not seduce; +Although I did admit it as a motive +The sooner to effect what I intended: +But God be thanked for prevention; +Which I in sufferance heartily will rejoice, +Beseeching God and you to pardon me. + +GREY +Never did faithful subject more rejoice +At the discovery of most dangerous treason +Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself. +Prevented from a damned enterprise: +My fault, but not my body, pardon, sovereign. + +KING HENRY V +God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence. +You have conspired against our royal person, +Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd and from his coffers +Received the golden earnest of our death; +Wherein you would have sold your king to slaughter, +His princes and his peers to servitude, +His subjects to oppression and contempt +And his whole kingdom into desolation. +Touching our person seek we no revenge; +But we our kingdom's safety must so tender, +Whose ruin you have sought, that to her laws +We do deliver you. Get you therefore hence, +Poor miserable wretches, to your death: +The taste whereof, God of his mercy give +You patience to endure, and true repentance +Of all your dear offences! Bear them hence. + +Exeunt CAMBRIDGE, SCROOP and GREY, guarded + +Now, lords, for France; the enterprise whereof +Shall be to you, as us, like glorious. +We doubt not of a fair and lucky war, +Since God so graciously hath brought to light +This dangerous treason lurking in our way +To hinder our beginnings. We doubt not now +But every rub is smoothed on our way. +Then forth, dear countrymen: let us deliver +Our puissance into the hand of God, +Putting it straight in expedition. +Cheerly to sea; the signs of war advance: +No king of England, if not king of France. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before a tavern. + +Enter PISTOL, Hostess, NYM, BARDOLPH, and Boy +Hostess +Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines. + +PISTOL +No; for my manly heart doth yearn. +Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: +Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, +And we must yearn therefore. + +BARDOLPH +Would I were with him, wheresome'er he is, either in +heaven or in hell! + +Hostess +Nay, sure, he's not in hell: he's in Arthur's +bosom, if ever man went to Arthur's bosom. A' made +a finer end and went away an it had been any +christom child; a' parted even just between twelve +and one, even at the turning o' the tide: for after +I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with +flowers and smile upon his fingers' ends, I knew +there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as +a pen, and a' babbled of green fields. 'How now, +sir John!' quoth I 'what, man! be o' good +cheer.' So a' cried out 'God, God, God!' three or +four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a' +should not think of God; I hoped there was no need +to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So +a' bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my +hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as +cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and +they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and +upward, and all was as cold as any stone. + +NYM +They say he cried out of sack. + +Hostess +Ay, that a' did. + +BARDOLPH +And of women. + +Hostess +Nay, that a' did not. + +Boy +Yes, that a' did; and said they were devils +incarnate. + +Hostess +A' could never abide carnation; 'twas a colour he +never liked. + +Boy +A' said once, the devil would have him about women. + +Hostess +A' did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then +he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon. + +Boy +Do you not remember, a' saw a flea stick upon +Bardolph's nose, and a' said it was a black soul +burning in hell-fire? + +BARDOLPH +Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: +that's all the riches I got in his service. + +NYM +Shall we shog? the king will be gone from +Southampton. + +PISTOL +Come, let's away. My love, give me thy lips. +Look to my chattels and my movables: +Let senses rule; the word is 'Pitch and Pay:' +Trust none; +For oaths are straws, men's faiths are wafer-cakes, +And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: +Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. +Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, +Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, +To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck! + +Boy +And that's but unwholesome food they say. + +PISTOL +Touch her soft mouth, and march. + +BARDOLPH +Farewell, hostess. + +Kissing her + +NYM +I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu. + +PISTOL +Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command. + +Hostess +Farewell; adieu. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. France. The KING'S palace. + +Flourish. Enter the FRENCH KING, the DAUPHIN, the DUKES of BERRI and BRETAGNE, the Constable, and others +KING OF FRANCE +Thus comes the English with full power upon us; +And more than carefully it us concerns +To answer royally in our defences. +Therefore the Dukes of Berri and of Bretagne, +Of Brabant and of Orleans, shall make forth, +And you, Prince Dauphin, with all swift dispatch, +To line and new repair our towns of war +With men of courage and with means defendant; +For England his approaches makes as fierce +As waters to the sucking of a gulf. +It fits us then to be as provident +As fear may teach us out of late examples +Left by the fatal and neglected English +Upon our fields. + +DAUPHIN +My most redoubted father, +It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; +For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, +Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, +But that defences, musters, preparations, +Should be maintain'd, assembled and collected, +As were a war in expectation. +Therefore, I say 'tis meet we all go forth +To view the sick and feeble parts of France: +And let us do it with no show of fear; +No, with no more than if we heard that England +Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance: +For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, +Her sceptre so fantastically borne +By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, +That fear attends her not. + +Constable +O peace, Prince Dauphin! +You are too much mistaken in this king: +Question your grace the late ambassadors, +With what great state he heard their embassy, +How well supplied with noble counsellors, +How modest in exception, and withal +How terrible in constant resolution, +And you shall find his vanities forespent +Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, +Covering discretion with a coat of folly; +As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots +That shall first spring and be most delicate. + +DAUPHIN +Well, 'tis not so, my lord high constable; +But though we think it so, it is no matter: +In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh +The enemy more mighty than he seems: +So the proportions of defence are fill'd; +Which of a weak or niggardly projection +Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting +A little cloth. + +KING OF FRANCE +Think we King Harry strong; +And, princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. +The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; +And he is bred out of that bloody strain +That haunted us in our familiar paths: +Witness our too much memorable shame +When Cressy battle fatally was struck, +And all our princes captiv'd by the hand +Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; +Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, +Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, +Saw his heroical seed, and smiled to see him, +Mangle the work of nature and deface +The patterns that by God and by French fathers +Had twenty years been made. This is a stem +Of that victorious stock; and let us fear +The native mightiness and fate of him. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Ambassadors from Harry King of England +Do crave admittance to your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them. + +Exeunt Messenger and certain Lords + +You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends. + +DAUPHIN +Turn head, and stop pursuit; for coward dogs +Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten +Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, +Take up the English short, and let them know +Of what a monarchy you are the head: +Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin +As self-neglecting. + +Re-enter Lords, with EXETER and train + +KING OF FRANCE +From our brother England? + +EXETER +From him; and thus he greets your majesty. +He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, +That you divest yourself, and lay apart +The borrow'd glories that by gift of heaven, +By law of nature and of nations, 'long +To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown +And all wide-stretched honours that pertain +By custom and the ordinance of times +Unto the crown of France. That you may know +'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim, +Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, +Nor from the dust of old oblivion raked, +He sends you this most memorable line, +In every branch truly demonstrative; +Willing to overlook this pedigree: +And when you find him evenly derived +From his most famed of famous ancestors, +Edward the Third, he bids you then resign +Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held +From him the native and true challenger. + +KING OF FRANCE +Or else what follows? + +EXETER +Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown +Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it: +Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, +In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, +That, if requiring fail, he will compel; +And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, +Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy +On the poor souls for whom this hungry war +Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head +Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries +The dead men's blood, the pining maidens groans, +For husbands, fathers and betrothed lovers, +That shall be swallow'd in this controversy. +This is his claim, his threatening and my message; +Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, +To whom expressly I bring greeting too. + +KING OF FRANCE +For us, we will consider of this further: +To-morrow shall you bear our full intent +Back to our brother England. + +DAUPHIN +For the Dauphin, +I stand here for him: what to him from England? + +EXETER +Scorn and defiance; slight regard, contempt, +And any thing that may not misbecome +The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. +Thus says my king; an' if your father's highness +Do not, in grant of all demands at large, +Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his majesty, +He'll call you to so hot an answer of it, +That caves and womby vaultages of France +Shall chide your trespass and return your mock +In second accent of his ordnance. + +DAUPHIN +Say, if my father render fair return, +It is against my will; for I desire +Nothing but odds with England: to that end, +As matching to his youth and vanity, +I did present him with the Paris balls. + +EXETER +He'll make your Paris Louvre shake for it, +Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe: +And, be assured, you'll find a difference, +As we his subjects have in wonder found, +Between the promise of his greener days +And these he masters now: now he weighs time +Even to the utmost grain: that you shall read +In your own losses, if he stay in France. + +KING OF FRANCE +To-morrow shall you know our mind at full. + +EXETER +Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king +Come here himself to question our delay; +For he is footed in this land already. + +KING OF FRANCE +You shall be soon dispatch's with fair conditions: +A night is but small breath and little pause +To answer matters of this consequence. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT III +PROLOGUE + +Enter Chorus +Chorus +Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies +In motion of no less celerity +Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen +The well-appointed king at Hampton pier +Embark his royalty; and his brave fleet +With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning: +Play with your fancies, and in them behold +Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; +Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give +To sounds confused; behold the threaden sails, +Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, +Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, +Breasting the lofty surge: O, do but think +You stand upon the ravage and behold +A city on the inconstant billows dancing; +For so appears this fleet majestical, +Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow: +Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, +And leave your England, as dead midnight still, +Guarded with grandsires, babies and old women, +Either past or not arrived to pith and puissance; +For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd +With one appearing hair, that will not follow +These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? +Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; +Behold the ordnance on their carriages, +With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. +Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back; +Tells Harry that the king doth offer him +Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry, +Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. +The offer likes not: and the nimble gunner +With linstock now the devilish cannon touches, + +Alarum, and chambers go off + +And down goes all before them. Still be kind, +And eke out our performance with your mind. + +Exit + +SCENE I. France. Before Harfleur. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, BEDFORD, GLOUCESTER, and Soldiers, with scaling-ladders +KING HENRY V +Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; +Or close the wall up with our English dead. +In peace there's nothing so becomes a man +As modest stillness and humility: +But when the blast of war blows in our ears, +Then imitate the action of the tiger; +Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, +Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; +Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; +Let pry through the portage of the head +Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it +As fearfully as doth a galled rock +O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, +Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. +Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, +Hold hard the breath and bend up every spirit +To his full height. On, on, you noblest English. +Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! +Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, +Have in these parts from morn till even fought +And sheathed their swords for lack of argument: +Dishonour not your mothers; now attest +That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. +Be copy now to men of grosser blood, +And teach them how to war. And you, good yeoman, +Whose limbs were made in England, show us here +The mettle of your pasture; let us swear +That you are worth your breeding; which I doubt not; +For there is none of you so mean and base, +That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. +I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, +Straining upon the start. The game's afoot: +Follow your spirit, and upon this charge +Cry 'God for Harry, England, and Saint George!' + +Exeunt. Alarum, and chambers go off + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter NYM, BARDOLPH, PISTOL, and Boy +BARDOLPH +On, on, on, on, on! to the breach, to the breach! + +NYM +Pray thee, corporal, stay: the knocks are too hot; +and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives: +the humour of it is too hot, that is the very +plain-song of it. + +PISTOL +The plain-song is most just: for humours do abound: +Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die; +And sword and shield, +In bloody field, +Doth win immortal fame. + +Boy +Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give +all my fame for a pot of ale and safety. + +PISTOL +And I: +If wishes would prevail with me, +My purpose should not fail with me, +But thither would I hie. + +Boy +As duly, but not as truly, +As bird doth sing on bough. + +Enter FLUELLEN + +FLUELLEN +Up to the breach, you dogs! avaunt, you cullions! + +Driving them forward + +PISTOL +Be merciful, great duke, to men of mould. +Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage, +Abate thy rage, great duke! +Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck! + +NYM +These be good humours! your honour wins bad humours. + +Exeunt all but Boy + +Boy +As young as I am, I have observed these three +swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they +three, though they would serve me, could not be man +to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to +a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and +red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but +fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue +and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks +words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath +heard that men of few words are the best men; and +therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a' +should be thought a coward: but his few bad words +are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never +broke any man's head but his own, and that was +against a post when he was drunk. They will steal +any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a +lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for +three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn +brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a +fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the +men would carry coals. They would have me as +familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their +handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, +if I should take from another's pocket to put into +mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I +must leave them, and seek some better service: +their villany goes against my weak stomach, and +therefore I must cast it up. + +Exit + +Re-enter FLUELLEN, GOWER following + +GOWER +Captain Fluellen, you must come presently to the +mines; the Duke of Gloucester would speak with you. + +FLUELLEN +To the mines! tell you the duke, it is not so good +to come to the mines; for, look you, the mines is +not according to the disciplines of the war: the +concavities of it is not sufficient; for, look you, +the athversary, you may discuss unto the duke, look +you, is digt himself four yard under the +countermines: by Cheshu, I think a' will plough up +all, if there is not better directions. + +GOWER +The Duke of Gloucester, to whom the order of the +siege is given, is altogether directed by an +Irishman, a very valiant gentleman, i' faith. + +FLUELLEN +It is Captain Macmorris, is it not? + +GOWER +I think it be. + +FLUELLEN +By Cheshu, he is an ass, as in the world: I will +verify as much in his beard: be has no more +directions in the true disciplines of the wars, look +you, of the Roman disciplines, than is a puppy-dog. + +Enter MACMORRIS and Captain JAMY + +GOWER +Here a' comes; and the Scots captain, Captain Jamy, with him. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Jamy is a marvellous falourous gentleman, +that is certain; and of great expedition and +knowledge in th' aunchient wars, upon my particular +knowledge of his directions: by Cheshu, he will +maintain his argument as well as any military man in +the world, in the disciplines of the pristine wars +of the Romans. + +JAMY +I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen. + +FLUELLEN +God-den to your worship, good Captain James. + +GOWER +How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the +mines? have the pioneers given o'er? + +MACMORRIS +By Chrish, la! tish ill done: the work ish give +over, the trompet sound the retreat. By my hand, I +swear, and my father's soul, the work ish ill done; +it ish give over: I would have blowed up the town, so +Chrish save me, la! in an hour: O, tish ill done, +tish ill done; by my hand, tish ill done! + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you +voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, +as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of +the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, +look you, and friendly communication; partly to +satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, +look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of +the military discipline; that is the point. + +JAMY +It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: +and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick +occasion; that sall I, marry. + +MACMORRIS +It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me: the +day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the +king, and the dukes: it is no time to discourse. The +town is beseeched, and the trumpet call us to the +breach; and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing: +'tis shame for us all: so God sa' me, 'tis shame to +stand still; it is shame, by my hand: and there is +throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there +ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la! + +JAMY +By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves +to slomber, ay'll de gud service, or ay'll lig i' +the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and ay'll pay +'t as valourously as I may, that sall I suerly do, +that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full +fain hear some question 'tween you tway. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your +correction, there is not many of your nation-- + +MACMORRIS +Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, +and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal. What ish +my nation? Who talks of my nation? + +FLUELLEN +Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is +meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think +you do not use me with that affability as in +discretion you ought to use me, look you: being as +good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of +war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in +other particularities. + +MACMORRIS +I do not know you so good a man as myself: so +Chrish save me, I will cut off your head. + +GOWER +Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other. + +JAMY +A! that's a foul fault. + +A parley sounded + +GOWER +The town sounds a parley. + +FLUELLEN +Captain Macmorris, when there is more better +opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so +bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; +and there is an end. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. Before the gates. + +The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter KING HENRY and his train +KING HENRY V +How yet resolves the governor of the town? +This is the latest parle we will admit; +Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves; +Or like to men proud of destruction +Defy us to our worst: for, as I am a soldier, +A name that in my thoughts becomes me best, +If I begin the battery once again, +I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur +Till in her ashes she lie buried. +The gates of mercy shall be all shut up, +And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart, +In liberty of bloody hand shall range +With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass +Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants. +What is it then to me, if impious war, +Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends, +Do, with his smirch'd complexion, all fell feats +Enlink'd to waste and desolation? +What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause, +If your pure maidens fall into the hand +Of hot and forcing violation? +What rein can hold licentious wickedness +When down the hill he holds his fierce career? +We may as bootless spend our vain command +Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil +As send precepts to the leviathan +To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur, +Take pity of your town and of your people, +Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command; +Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace +O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds +Of heady murder, spoil and villany. +If not, why, in a moment look to see +The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand +Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters; +Your fathers taken by the silver beards, +And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls, +Your naked infants spitted upon pikes, +Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confused +Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry +At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen. +What say you? will you yield, and this avoid, +Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd? + +GOVERNOR +Our expectation hath this day an end: +The Dauphin, whom of succors we entreated, +Returns us that his powers are yet not ready +To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great king, +We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy. +Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours; +For we no longer are defensible. + +KING HENRY V +Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter, +Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain, +And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French: +Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle, +The winter coming on and sickness growing +Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais. +To-night in Harfleur we will be your guest; +To-morrow for the march are we addrest. + +Flourish. The King and his train enter the town + +SCENE IV. The FRENCH KING's palace. + +Enter KATHARINE and ALICE +KATHARINE +Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage. + +ALICE +Un peu, madame. + +KATHARINE +Je te prie, m'enseignez: il faut que j'apprenne a +parler. Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois? + +ALICE +La main? elle est appelee de hand. + +KATHARINE +De hand. Et les doigts? + +ALICE +Les doigts? ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me +souviendrai. Les doigts? je pense qu'ils sont +appeles de fingres; oui, de fingres. + +KATHARINE +La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense +que je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots +d'Anglois vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles? + +ALICE +Les ongles? nous les appelons de nails. + +KATHARINE +De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de +hand, de fingres, et de nails. + +ALICE +C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois. + +KATHARINE +Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras. + +ALICE +De arm, madame. + +KATHARINE +Et le coude? + +ALICE +De elbow. + +KATHARINE +De elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les +mots que vous m'avez appris des a present. + +ALICE +Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense. + +KATHARINE +Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: de hand, de fingres, +de nails, de arma, de bilbow. + +ALICE +De elbow, madame. + +KATHARINE +O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! de elbow. Comment +appelez-vous le col? + +ALICE +De neck, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nick. Et le menton? + +ALICE +De chin. + +KATHARINE +De sin. Le col, de nick; de menton, de sin. + +ALICE +Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez +les mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre. + +KATHARINE +Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu, +et en peu de temps. + +ALICE +N'avez vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne? + +KATHARINE +Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: de hand, de +fingres, de mails-- + +ALICE +De nails, madame. + +KATHARINE +De nails, de arm, de ilbow. + +ALICE +Sauf votre honneur, de elbow. + +KATHARINE +Ainsi dis-je; de elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment +appelez-vous le pied et la robe? + +ALICE +De foot, madame; et de coun. + +KATHARINE +De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots +de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et +non pour les dames d'honneur d'user: je ne voudrais +prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France +pour tout le monde. Foh! le foot et le coun! +Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon +ensemble: de hand, de fingres, de nails, de arm, de +elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun. + +ALICE +Excellent, madame! + +KATHARINE +C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Enter the KING OF FRANCE, the DAUPHIN, the DUKE oF BOURBON, the Constable Of France, and others +KING OF FRANCE +'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme. + +Constable +And if he be not fought withal, my lord, +Let us not live in France; let us quit all +And give our vineyards to a barbarous people. + +DAUPHIN +O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, +The emptying of our fathers' luxury, +Our scions, put in wild and savage stock, +Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, +And overlook their grafters? + +BOURBON +Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! +Mort de ma vie! if they march along +Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, +To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm +In that nook-shotten isle of Albion. + +Constable +Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle? +Is not their climate foggy, raw and dull, +On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, +Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, +A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth, +Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? +And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, +Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land, +Let us not hang like roping icicles +Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people +Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! +Poor we may call them in their native lords. + +DAUPHIN +By faith and honour, +Our madams mock at us, and plainly say +Our mettle is bred out and they will give +Their bodies to the lust of English youth +To new-store France with bastard warriors. + +BOURBON +They bid us to the English dancing-schools, +And teach lavoltas high and swift corantos; +Saying our grace is only in our heels, +And that we are most lofty runaways. + +KING OF FRANCE +Where is Montjoy the herald? speed him hence: +Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. +Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged +More sharper than your swords, hie to the field: +Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; +You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, +Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; +Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, +Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg, +Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; +High dukes, great princes, barons, lords and knights, +For your great seats now quit you of great shames. +Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land +With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur: +Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow +Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat +The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon: +Go down upon him, you have power enough, +And in a captive chariot into Rouen +Bring him our prisoner. + +Constable +This becomes the great. +Sorry am I his numbers are so few, +His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march, +For I am sure, when he shall see our army, +He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear +And for achievement offer us his ransom. + +KING OF FRANCE +Therefore, lord constable, haste on Montjoy. +And let him say to England that we send +To know what willing ransom he will give. +Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen. + +DAUPHIN +Not so, I do beseech your majesty. + +KING OF FRANCE +Be patient, for you shall remain with us. +Now forth, lord constable and princes all, +And quickly bring us word of England's fall. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. The English camp in Picardy. + +Enter GOWER and FLUELLEN, meeting +GOWER +How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge? + +FLUELLEN +I assure you, there is very excellent services +committed at the bridge. + +GOWER +Is the Duke of Exeter safe? + +FLUELLEN +The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; +and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my +heart, and my duty, and my life, and my living, and +my uttermost power: he is not-God be praised and +blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the +bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. +There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the +pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as +valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no +estimation in the world; but did see him do as +gallant service. + +GOWER +What do you call him? + +FLUELLEN +He is called Aunchient Pistol. + +GOWER +I know him not. + +Enter PISTOL + +FLUELLEN +Here is the man. + +PISTOL +Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours: +The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well. + +FLUELLEN +Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at +his hands. + +PISTOL +Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, +And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate, +And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, +That goddess blind, +That stands upon the rolling restless stone-- + +FLUELLEN +By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is +painted blind, with a muffler afore her eyes, to +signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is +painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which +is the moral of it, that she is turning, and +inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her +foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, +which rolls, and rolls, and rolls: in good truth, +the poet makes a most excellent description of it: +Fortune is an excellent moral. + +PISTOL +Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; +For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must a' be: +A damned death! +Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free +And let not hemp his wind-pipe suffocate: +But Exeter hath given the doom of death +For pax of little price. +Therefore, go speak: the duke will hear thy voice: +And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut +With edge of penny cord and vile reproach: +Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite. + +FLUELLEN +Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning. + +The First part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 1 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Westminster Abbey. + +Dead March. Enter the Funeral of KING HENRY the Fifth, attended on by Dukes of BEDFORD, Regent of France; GLOUCESTER, Protector; and EXETER, Earl of WARWICK, the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, Heralds, & c +BEDFORD +Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night! +Comets, importing change of times and states, +Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky, +And with them scourge the bad revolting stars +That have consented unto Henry's death! +King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long! +England ne'er lost a king of so much worth. + +GLOUCESTER +England ne'er had a king until his time. +Virtue he had, deserving to command: +His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams: +His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings; +His sparking eyes, replete with wrathful fire, +More dazzled and drove back his enemies +Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces. +What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech: +He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered. + +EXETER +We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood? +Henry is dead and never shall revive: +Upon a wooden coffin we attend, +And death's dishonourable victory +We with our stately presence glorify, +Like captives bound to a triumphant car. +What! shall we curse the planets of mishap +That plotted thus our glory's overthrow? +Or shall we think the subtle-witted French +Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him +By magic verses have contrived his end? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +He was a king bless'd of the King of kings. +Unto the French the dreadful judgement-day +So dreadful will not be as was his sight. +The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought: +The church's prayers made him so prosperous. + +GLOUCESTER +The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, +His thread of life had not so soon decay'd: +None do you like but an effeminate prince, +Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art protector +And lookest to command the prince and realm. +Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe, +More than God or religious churchmen may. + +GLOUCESTER +Name not religion, for thou lovest the flesh, +And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st +Except it be to pray against thy foes. + +BEDFORD +Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace: +Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us: +Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms: +Since arms avail not now that Henry's dead. +Posterity, await for wretched years, +When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck, +Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears, +And none but women left to wail the dead. +Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate: +Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils, +Combat with adverse planets in the heavens! +A far more glorious star thy soul will make +Than Julius Caesar or bright-- + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My honourable lords, health to you all! +Sad tidings bring I to you out of France, +Of loss, of slaughter and discomfiture: +Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans, +Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost. + +BEDFORD +What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse? +Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns +Will make him burst his lead and rise from death. + +GLOUCESTER +Is Paris lost? is Rouen yielded up? +If Henry were recall'd to life again, +These news would cause him once more yield the ghost. + +EXETER +How were they lost? what treachery was used? + +Messenger +No treachery; but want of men and money. +Amongst the soldiers this is muttered, +That here you maintain several factions, +And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought, +You are disputing of your generals: +One would have lingering wars with little cost; +Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings; +A third thinks, without expense at all, +By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd. +Awake, awake, English nobility! +Let not sloth dim your horrors new-begot: +Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms; +Of England's coat one half is cut away. + +EXETER +Were our tears wanting to this funeral, +These tidings would call forth their flowing tides. + +BEDFORD +Me they concern; Regent I am of France. +Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France. +Away with these disgraceful wailing robes! +Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes, +To weep their intermissive miseries. + +Enter to them another Messenger + +Messenger +Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance. +France is revolted from the English quite, +Except some petty towns of no import: +The Dauphin Charles is crowned king of Rheims; +The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd; +Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part; +The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side. + +EXETER +The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him! +O, whither shall we fly from this reproach? + +GLOUCESTER +We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats. +Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. + +BEDFORD +Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness? +An army have I muster'd in my thoughts, +Wherewith already France is overrun. + +Enter another Messenger + +Messenger +My gracious lords, to add to your laments, +Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse, +I must inform you of a dismal fight +Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so? + +Messenger +O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown: +The circumstance I'll tell you more at large. +The tenth of August last this dreadful lord, +Retiring from the siege of Orleans, +Having full scarce six thousand in his troop. +By three and twenty thousand of the French +Was round encompassed and set upon. +No leisure had he to enrank his men; +He wanted pikes to set before his archers; +Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges +They pitched in the ground confusedly, +To keep the horsemen off from breaking in. +More than three hours the fight continued; +Where valiant Talbot above human thought +Enacted wonders with his sword and lance: +Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him; +Here, there, and every where, enraged he flew: +The French exclaim'd, the devil was in arms; +All the whole army stood agazed on him: +His soldiers spying his undaunted spirit +A Talbot! a Talbot! cried out amain +And rush'd into the bowels of the battle. +Here had the conquest fully been seal'd up, +If Sir John Fastolfe had not play'd the coward: +He, being in the vaward, placed behind +With purpose to relieve and follow them, +Cowardly fled, not having struck one stroke. +Hence grew the general wreck and massacre; +Enclosed were they with their enemies: +A base Walloon, to win the Dauphin's grace, +Thrust Talbot with a spear into the back, +Whom all France with their chief assembled strength +Durst not presume to look once in the face. + +BEDFORD +Is Talbot slain? then I will slay myself, +For living idly here in pomp and ease, +Whilst such a worthy leader, wanting aid, +Unto his dastard foemen is betray'd. + +Messenger +O no, he lives; but is took prisoner, +And Lord Scales with him and Lord Hungerford: +Most of the rest slaughter'd or took likewise. + +BEDFORD +His ransom there is none but I shall pay: +I'll hale the Dauphin headlong from his throne: +His crown shall be the ransom of my friend; +Four of their lords I'll change for one of ours. +Farewell, my masters; to my task will I; +Bonfires in France forthwith I am to make, +To keep our great Saint George's feast withal: +Ten thousand soldiers with me I will take, +Whose bloody deeds shall make all Europe quake. + +Messenger +So you had need; for Orleans is besieged; +The English army is grown weak and faint: +The Earl of Salisbury craveth supply, +And hardly keeps his men from mutiny, +Since they, so few, watch such a multitude. + +EXETER +Remember, lords, your oaths to Henry sworn, +Either to quell the Dauphin utterly, +Or bring him in obedience to your yoke. + +BEDFORD +I do remember it; and here take my leave, +To go about my preparation. + +Exit + +GLOUCESTER +I'll to the Tower with all the haste I can, +To view the artillery and munition; +And then I will proclaim young Henry king. + +Exit + +EXETER +To Eltham will I, where the young king is, +Being ordain'd his special governor, +And for his safety there I'll best devise. + +Exit + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Each hath his place and function to attend: +I am left out; for me nothing remains. +But long I will not be Jack out of office: +The king from Eltham I intend to steal +And sit at chiefest stern of public weal. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. France. Before Orleans. + +Sound a flourish. Enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, marching with drum and Soldiers +CHARLES +Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens +So in the earth, to this day is not known: +Late did he shine upon the English side; +Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. +What towns of any moment but we have? +At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; +Otherwhiles the famish'd English, like pale ghosts, +Faintly besiege us one hour in a month. + +ALENCON +They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: +Either they must be dieted like mules +And have their provender tied to their mouths +Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice. + +REIGNIER +Let's raise the siege: why live we idly here? +Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: +Remaineth none but mad-brain'd Salisbury; +And he may well in fretting spend his gall, +Nor men nor money hath he to make war. + +CHARLES +Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them. +Now for the honour of the forlorn French! +Him I forgive my death that killeth me +When he sees me go back one foot or fly. + +Exeunt + +Here alarum; they are beaten back by the English with great loss. Re-enter CHARLES, ALENCON, and REIGNIER + +CHARLES +Who ever saw the like? what men have I! +Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne'er have fled, +But that they left me 'midst my enemies. + +REIGNIER +Salisbury is a desperate homicide; +He fighteth as one weary of his life. +The other lords, like lions wanting food, +Do rush upon us as their hungry prey. + +ALENCON +Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, +England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, +During the time Edward the Third did reign. +More truly now may this be verified; +For none but Samsons and Goliases +It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! +Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e'er suppose +They had such courage and audacity? + +CHARLES +Let's leave this town; for they are hare-brain'd slaves, +And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: +Of old I know them; rather with their teeth +The walls they'll tear down than forsake the siege. + +REIGNIER +I think, by some odd gimmors or device +Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on; +Else ne'er could they hold out so as they do. +By my consent, we'll even let them alone. + +ALENCON +Be it so. + +Enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Where's the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him. + +CHARLES +Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall'd: +Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? +Be not dismay'd, for succor is at hand: +A holy maid hither with me I bring, +Which by a vision sent to her from heaven +Ordained is to raise this tedious siege +And drive the English forth the bounds of France. +The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, +Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: +What's past and what's to come she can descry. +Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, +For they are certain and unfallible. + +CHARLES +Go, call her in. + +Exit BASTARD OF ORLEANS + +But first, to try her skill, +Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place: +Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern: +By this means shall we sound what skill she hath. + +Re-enter the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, with JOAN LA PUCELLE + +REIGNIER +Fair maid, is't thou wilt do these wondrous feats? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Reignier, is't thou that thinkest to beguile me? +Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; +I know thee well, though never seen before. +Be not amazed, there's nothing hid from me: +In private will I talk with thee apart. +Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile. + +REIGNIER +She takes upon her bravely at first dash. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd's daughter, +My wit untrain'd in any kind of art. +Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased +To shine on my contemptible estate: +Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, +And to sun's parching heat display'd my cheeks, +God's mother deigned to appear to me +And in a vision full of majesty +Will'd me to leave my base vocation +And free my country from calamity: +Her aid she promised and assured success: +In complete glory she reveal'd herself; +And, whereas I was black and swart before, +With those clear rays which she infused on me +That beauty am I bless'd with which you see. +Ask me what question thou canst possible, +And I will answer unpremeditated: +My courage try by combat, if thou darest, +And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. +Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate, +If thou receive me for thy warlike mate. + +CHARLES +Thou hast astonish'd me with thy high terms: +Only this proof I'll of thy valour make, +In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, +And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; +Otherwise I renounce all confidence. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword, +Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side; +The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine's +churchyard, +Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth. + +CHARLES +Then come, o' God's name; I fear no woman. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +And while I live, I'll ne'er fly from a man. + +Here they fight, and JOAN LA PUCELLE overcomes + +CHARLES +Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon +And fightest with the sword of Deborah. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Christ's mother helps me, else I were too weak. + +CHARLES +Whoe'er helps thee, 'tis thou that must help me: +Impatiently I burn with thy desire; +My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. +Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, +Let me thy servant and not sovereign be: +'Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +I must not yield to any rites of love, +For my profession's sacred from above: +When I have chased all thy foes from hence, +Then will I think upon a recompense. + +CHARLES +Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall. + +REIGNIER +My lord, methinks, is very long in talk. + +ALENCON +Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; +Else ne'er could he so long protract his speech. + +REIGNIER +Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean? + +ALENCON +He may mean more than we poor men do know: +These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues. + +REIGNIER +My lord, where are you? what devise you on? +Shall we give over Orleans, or no? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! +Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard. + +CHARLES +What she says I'll confirm: we'll fight it out. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Assign'd am I to be the English scourge. +This night the siege assuredly I'll raise: +Expect Saint Martin's summer, halcyon days, +Since I have entered into these wars. +Glory is like a circle in the water, +Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself +Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. +With Henry's death the English circle ends; +Dispersed are the glories it included. +Now am I like that proud insulting ship +Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once. + +CHARLES +Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? +Thou with an eagle art inspired then. +Helen, the mother of great Constantine, +Nor yet Saint Philip's daughters, were like thee. +Bright star of Venus, fall'n down on the earth, +How may I reverently worship thee enough? + +ALENCON +Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege. + +REIGNIER +Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; +Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized. + +CHARLES +Presently we'll try: come, let's away about it: +No prophet will I trust, if she prove false. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. Before the Tower. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, with his Serving-men in blue coats +GLOUCESTER +I am come to survey the Tower this day: +Since Henry's death, I fear, there is conveyance. +Where be these warders, that they wait not here? +Open the gates; 'tis Gloucester that calls. + +First Warder +[Within] Who's there that knocks so imperiously? +First Serving-Man It is the noble Duke of Gloucester. + +Second Warder +[Within] Whoe'er he be, you may not be let in. +First Serving-Man Villains, answer you so the lord protector? + +First Warder +[Within] The Lord protect him! so we answer him: +We do no otherwise than we are will'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? +There's none protector of the realm but I. +Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize. +Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? + +Gloucester's men rush at the Tower Gates, and WOODVILE the Lieutenant speaks within + +WOODVILE +What noise is this? what traitors have we here? + +GLOUCESTER +Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? +Open the gates; here's Gloucester that would enter. + +WOODVILE +Have patience, noble duke; I may not open; +The Cardinal of Winchester forbids: +From him I have express commandment +That thou nor none of thine shall be let in. + +GLOUCESTER +Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me? +Arrogant Winchester, that haughty prelate, +Whom Henry, our late sovereign, ne'er could brook? +Thou art no friend to God or to the king: +Open the gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. +Serving-Men Open the gates unto the lord protector, +Or we'll burst them open, if that you come not quickly. + +Enter to the Protector at the Tower Gates BISHOP OF WINCHESTER and his men in tawny coats + +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +How now, ambitious Humphry! what means this? + +GLOUCESTER +Peel'd priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +I do, thou most usurping proditor, +And not protector, of the king or realm. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand back, thou manifest conspirator, +Thou that contrivedst to murder our dead lord; +Thou that givest whores indulgences to sin: +I'll canvass thee in thy broad cardinal's hat, +If thou proceed in this thy insolence. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Nay, stand thou back, I will not budge a foot: +This be Damascus, be thou cursed Cain, +To slay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not slay thee, but I'll drive thee back: +Thy scarlet robes as a child's bearing-cloth +I'll use to carry thee out of this place. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Do what thou darest; I beard thee to thy face. + +GLOUCESTER +What! am I dared and bearded to my face? +Draw, men, for all this privileged place; +Blue coats to tawny coats. Priest, beware your beard, +I mean to tug it and to cuff you soundly: +Under my feet I stamp thy cardinal's hat: +In spite of pope or dignities of church, +Here by the cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, thou wilt answer this before the pope. + +GLOUCESTER +Winchester goose, I cry, a rope! a rope! +Now beat them hence; why do you let them stay? +Thee I'll chase hence, thou wolf in sheep's array. +Out, tawny coats! out, scarlet hypocrite! + +Here GLOUCESTER's men beat out BISHOP OF WINCHESTER's men, and enter in the hurly- burly the Mayor of London and his Officers + +Mayor +Fie, lords! that you, being supreme magistrates, +Thus contumeliously should break the peace! + +GLOUCESTER +Peace, mayor! thou know'st little of my wrongs: +Here's Beaufort, that regards nor God nor king, +Hath here distrain'd the Tower to his use. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Here's Gloucester, a foe to citizens, +One that still motions war and never peace, +O'ercharging your free purses with large fines, +That seeks to overthrow religion, +Because he is protector of the realm, +And would have armour here out of the Tower, +To crown himself king and suppress the prince. + +GLOUCESTER +I will not answer thee with words, but blows. + +Here they skirmish again + +Mayor +Naught rests for me in this tumultuous strife +But to make open proclamation: +Come, officer; as loud as e'er thou canst, +Cry. + +Officer +All manner of men assembled here in arms this day +against God's peace and the king's, we charge and +command you, in his highness' name, to repair to +your several dwelling-places; and not to wear, +handle, or use any sword, weapon, or dagger, +henceforward, upon pain of death. + +GLOUCESTER +Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: +But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Gloucester, we will meet; to thy cost, be sure: +Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. + +Mayor +I'll call for clubs, if you will not away. +This cardinal's more haughty than the devil. + +GLOUCESTER +Mayor, farewell: thou dost but what thou mayst. +BISHOP + +OF WINCHESTER +Abominable Gloucester, guard thy head; +For I intend to have it ere long. + +Exeunt, severally, GLOUCESTER and BISHOP OF WINCHESTER with their Serving-men + +Mayor +See the coast clear'd, and then we will depart. +Good God, these nobles should such stomachs bear! +I myself fight not once in forty year. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Orleans. + +Enter, on the walls, a Master Gunner and his Boy +Master-Gunner Sirrah, thou know'st how Orleans is besieged, +And how the English have the suburbs won. + +Boy +Father, I know; and oft have shot at them, +Howe'er unfortunate I miss'd my aim. +Master-Gunner But now thou shalt not. Be thou ruled by me: +Chief master-gunner am I of this town; +Something I must do to procure me grace. +The prince's espials have informed me +How the English, in the suburbs close intrench'd, +Wont, through a secret grate of iron bars +In yonder tower, to overpeer the city, +And thence discover how with most advantage +They may vex us with shot, or with assault. +To intercept this inconvenience, +A piece of ordnance 'gainst it I have placed; +And even these three days have I watch'd, +If I could see them. +Now do thou watch, for I can stay no longer. +If thou spy'st any, run and bring me word; +And thou shalt find me at the governor's. + +Exit + +Boy +Father, I warrant you; take you no care; +I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. + +Exit + +Enter, on the turrets, SALISBURY and TALBOT, GLANSDALE, GARGRAVE, and others + +SALISBURY +Talbot, my life, my joy, again return'd! +How wert thou handled being prisoner? +Or by what means got'st thou to be released? +Discourse, I prithee, on this turret's top. + +TALBOT +The Duke of Bedford had a prisoner +Call'd the brave Lord Ponton de Santrailles; +For him was I exchanged and ransomed. +But with a baser man of arms by far +Once in contempt they would have barter'd me: +Which I, disdaining, scorn'd; and craved death, +Rather than I would be so vile esteem'd. +In fine, redeem'd I was as I desired. +But, O! the treacherous Fastolfe wounds my heart, +Whom with my bare fists I would execute, +If I now had him brought into my power. + +SALISBURY +Yet tell'st thou not how thou wert entertain'd. + +TALBOT +With scoffs and scorns and contumelious taunts. +In open market-place produced they me, +To be a public spectacle to all: +Here, said they, is the terror of the French, +The scarecrow that affrights our children so. +Then broke I from the officers that led me, +And with my nails digg'd stones out of the ground, +To hurl at the beholders of my shame: +My grisly countenance made others fly; +None durst come near for fear of sudden death. +In iron walls they deem'd me not secure; +So great fear of my name 'mongst them was spread, +That they supposed I could rend bars of steel, +And spurn in pieces posts of adamant: +Wherefore a guard of chosen shot I had, +That walked about me every minute-while; +And if I did but stir out of my bed, +Ready they were to shoot me to the heart. + +Enter the Boy with a linstock + +SALISBURY +I grieve to hear what torments you endured, +But we will be revenged sufficiently +Now it is supper-time in Orleans: +Here, through this grate, I count each one +and view the Frenchmen how they fortify: +Let us look in; the sight will much delight thee. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, and Sir William Glansdale, +Let me have your express opinions +Where is best place to make our battery next. + +GARGRAVE +I think, at the north gate; for there stand lords. + +GLANSDALE +And I, here, at the bulwark of the bridge. + +TALBOT +For aught I see, this city must be famish'd, +Or with light skirmishes enfeebled. + +Here they shoot. SALISBURY and GARGRAVE fall + +SALISBURY +O Lord, have mercy on us, wretched sinners! + +GARGRAVE +O Lord, have mercy on me, woful man! + +TALBOT +What chance is this that suddenly hath cross'd us? +Speak, Salisbury; at least, if thou canst speak: +How farest thou, mirror of all martial men? +One of thy eyes and thy cheek's side struck off! +Accursed tower! accursed fatal hand +That hath contrived this woful tragedy! +In thirteen battles Salisbury o'ercame; +Henry the Fifth he first train'd to the wars; +Whilst any trump did sound, or drum struck up, +His sword did ne'er leave striking in the field. +Yet livest thou, Salisbury? though thy speech doth fail, +One eye thou hast, to look to heaven for grace: +The sun with one eye vieweth all the world. +Heaven, be thou gracious to none alive, +If Salisbury wants mercy at thy hands! +Bear hence his body; I will help to bury it. +Sir Thomas Gargrave, hast thou any life? +Speak unto Talbot; nay, look up to him. +Salisbury, cheer thy spirit with this comfort; +Thou shalt not die whiles-- +He beckons with his hand and smiles on me. +As who should say 'When I am dead and gone, +Remember to avenge me on the French.' +Plantagenet, I will; and like thee, Nero, +Play on the lute, beholding the towns burn: +Wretched shall France be only in my name. + +Here an alarum, and it thunders and lightens + +What stir is this? what tumult's in the heavens? +Whence cometh this alarum and the noise? + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +My lord, my lord, the French have gathered head: +The Dauphin, with one Joan la Pucelle join'd, +A holy prophetess new risen up, +Is come with a great power to raise the siege. + +Here SALISBURY lifteth himself up and groans + +TALBOT +Hear, hear how dying Salisbury doth groan! +It irks his heart he cannot be revenged. +Frenchmen, I'll be a Salisbury to you: +Pucelle or puzzel, dolphin or dogfish, +Your hearts I'll stamp out with my horse's heels, +And make a quagmire of your mingled brains. +Convey me Salisbury into his tent, +And then we'll try what these dastard Frenchmen dare. + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. + +Here an alarum again: and TALBOT pursueth the DAUPHIN, and driveth him: then enter JOAN LA PUCELLE, driving Englishmen before her, and exit after them then re-enter TALBOT +TALBOT +Where is my strength, my valour, and my force? +Our English troops retire, I cannot stay them: +A woman clad in armour chaseth them. + +Re-enter JOAN LA PUCELLE + +Here, here she comes. I'll have a bout with thee; +Devil or devil's dam, I'll conjure thee: +Blood will I draw on thee, thou art a witch, +And straightway give thy soul to him thou servest. + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Come, come, 'tis only I that must disgrace thee. + +Here they fight + +TALBOT +Heavens, can you suffer hell so to prevail? +My breast I'll burst with straining of my courage +And from my shoulders crack my arms asunder. +But I will chastise this high-minded strumpet. + +They fight again + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Talbot, farewell; thy hour is not yet come: +I must go victual Orleans forthwith. + +A short alarum; then enter the town with soldiers + +O'ertake me, if thou canst; I scorn thy strength. +Go, go, cheer up thy hungry-starved men; +Help Salisbury to make his testament: +This day is ours, as many more shall be. + +Exit + +TALBOT +My thoughts are whirled like a potter's wheel; +I know not where I am, nor what I do; +A witch, by fear, not force, like Hannibal, +Drives back our troops and conquers as she lists: +So bees with smoke and doves with noisome stench +Are from their hives and houses driven away. +They call'd us for our fierceness English dogs; +Now, like to whelps, we crying run away. + +A short alarum + +Hark, countrymen! either renew the fight, +Or tear the lions out of England's coat; +Renounce your soil, give sheep in lions' stead: +Sheep run not half so treacherous from the wolf, +Or horse or oxen from the leopard, +As you fly from your oft-subdued slaves. + +Alarum. Here another skirmish + +It will not be: retire into your trenches: +You all consented unto Salisbury's death, +For none would strike a stroke in his revenge. +Pucelle is enter'd into Orleans, +In spite of us or aught that we could do. +O, would I were to die with Salisbury! +The shame hereof will make me hide my head. + +Exit TALBOT. Alarum; retreat; flourish + +SCENE VI. The same. + +Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Advance our waving colours on the walls; +Rescued is Orleans from the English +Thus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word. + +CHARLES +Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, +How shall I honour thee for this success? +Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens +That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. +France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! +Recover'd is the town of Orleans: +More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state. + +REIGNIER +Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? +Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires +And feast and banquet in the open streets, +To celebrate the joy that God hath given us. + +ALENCON +All France will be replete with mirth and joy, +When they shall hear how we have play'd the men. + +CHARLES +'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; +For which I will divide my crown with her, +And all the priests and friars in my realm +Shall in procession sing her endless praise. +A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear +Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: +In memory of her when she is dead, +Her ashes, in an urn more precious +Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius, +Transported shall be at high festivals +Before the kings and queens of France. +No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, +But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. +Come in, and let us banquet royally, +After this golden day of victory. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Before Orleans. + +Enter a Sergeant of a band with two Sentinels +Sergeant +Sirs, take your places and be vigilant: +If any noise or soldier you perceive +Near to the walls, by some apparent sign +Let us have knowledge at the court of guard. + +First Sentinel +Sergeant, you shall. + +Exit Sergeant + +Thus are poor servitors, +When others sleep upon their quiet beds, +Constrain'd to watch in darkness, rain and cold. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, and Forces, with scaling-ladders, their drums beating a dead march + +TALBOT +Lord Regent, and redoubted Burgundy, +By whose approach the regions of Artois, +Wallon and Picardy are friends to us, +This happy night the Frenchmen are secure, +Having all day caroused and banqueted: +Embrace we then this opportunity +As fitting best to quittance their deceit +Contrived by art and baleful sorcery. + +BEDFORD +Coward of France! how much he wrongs his fame, +Despairing of his own arm's fortitude, +To join with witches and the help of hell! + +BURGUNDY +Traitors have never other company. +But what's that Pucelle whom they term so pure? + +TALBOT +A maid, they say. + +BEDFORD +A maid! and be so martial! + +BURGUNDY +Pray God she prove not masculine ere long, +If underneath the standard of the French +She carry armour as she hath begun. + +TALBOT +Well, let them practise and converse with spirits: +God is our fortress, in whose conquering name +Let us resolve to scale their flinty bulwarks. + +BEDFORD +Ascend, brave Talbot; we will follow thee. + +TALBOT +Not all together: better far, I guess, +That we do make our entrance several ways; +That, if it chance the one of us do fail, +The other yet may rise against their force. + +BEDFORD +Agreed: I'll to yond corner. + +BURGUNDY +And I to this. + +TALBOT +And here will Talbot mount, or make his grave. +Now, Salisbury, for thee, and for the right +Of English Henry, shall this night appear +How much in duty I am bound to both. + +Sentinels +Arm! arm! the enemy doth make assault! + +Cry: 'St. George,' 'A Talbot.' + +The French leap over the walls in their shirts. Enter, several ways, the BASTARD OF ORLEANS, ALENCON, and REIGNIER, half ready, and half unready + +ALENCON +How now, my lords! what, all unready so? + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Unready! ay, and glad we 'scaped so well. + +REIGNIER +'Twas time, I trow, to wake and leave our beds, +Hearing alarums at our chamber-doors. + +ALENCON +Of all exploits since first I follow'd arms, +Ne'er heard I of a warlike enterprise +More venturous or desperate than this. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +I think this Talbot be a fiend of hell. + +REIGNIER +If not of hell, the heavens, sure, favour him. + +ALENCON +Here cometh Charles: I marvel how he sped. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Tut, holy Joan was his defensive guard. + +Enter CHARLES and JOAN LA PUCELLE + +CHARLES +Is this thy cunning, thou deceitful dame? +Didst thou at first, to flatter us withal, +Make us partakers of a little gain, +That now our loss might be ten times so much? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Wherefore is Charles impatient with his friend! +At all times will you have my power alike? +Sleeping or waking must I still prevail, +Or will you blame and lay the fault on me? +Improvident soldiers! had your watch been good, +This sudden mischief never could have fall'n. + +CHARLES +Duke of Alencon, this was your default, +That, being captain of the watch to-night, +Did look no better to that weighty charge. + +ALENCON +Had all your quarters been as safely kept +As that whereof I had the government, +We had not been thus shamefully surprised. + +BASTARD OF ORLEANS +Mine was secure. + +REIGNIER +And so was mine, my lord. + +CHARLES +And, for myself, most part of all this night, +Within her quarter and mine own precinct +I was employ'd in passing to and fro, +About relieving of the sentinels: +Then how or which way should they first break in? + +JOAN LA PUCELLE +Question, my lords, no further of the case, +How or which way: 'tis sure they found some place +But weakly guarded, where the breach was made. +And now there rests no other shift but this; +To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed, +And lay new platforms to endamage them. + +Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying 'A Talbot! a Talbot!' They fly, leaving their clothes behind + +Soldier +I'll be so bold to take what they have left. +The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword; +For I have loaden me with many spoils, +Using no other weapon but his name. + +Exit + +SCENE II. Orleans. Within the town. + +Enter TALBOT, BEDFORD, BURGUNDY, a Captain, and others +BEDFORD +The day begins to break, and night is fled, +Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth. +Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit. + +Retreat sounded + +TALBOT +Bring forth the body of old Salisbury, +And here advance it in the market-place, +The middle centre of this cursed town. +Now have I paid my vow unto his soul; +For every drop of blood was drawn from him, +There hath at least five Frenchmen died tonight. +And that hereafter ages may behold +What ruin happen'd in revenge of him, +Within their chiefest temple I'll erect +A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd: +Upon the which, that every one may read, +Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans, +The treacherous manner of his mournful death +And what a terror he had been to France. +But, lords, in all our bloody massacre, +I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace, +His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc, +Nor any of his false confederates. + +BEDFORD +'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began, +Roused on the sudden from their drowsy beds, +They did amongst the troops of armed men +Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field. + +BURGUNDY +Myself, as far as I could well discern +For smoke and dusky vapours of the night, +Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull, +When arm in arm they both came swiftly running, +Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves +That could not live asunder day or night. +After that things are set in order here, +We'll follow them with all the power we have. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +All hail, my lords! which of this princely train +Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts +So much applauded through the realm of France? + +TALBOT +Here is the Talbot: who would speak with him? + +Messenger +The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne, +With modesty admiring thy renown, +By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe +To visit her poor castle where she lies, +That she may boast she hath beheld the man +Whose glory fills the world with loud report. + +BURGUNDY +Is it even so? Nay, then, I see our wars +Will turn unto a peaceful comic sport, +When ladies crave to be encounter'd with. +You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit. + +TALBOT +Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men +Could not prevail with all their oratory, +Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled: +And therefore tell her I return great thanks, +And in submission will attend on her. +Will not your honours bear me company? + +BEDFORD +No, truly; it is more than manners will: +And I have heard it said, unbidden guests +Are often welcomest when they are gone. + +TALBOT +Well then, alone, since there's no remedy, +I mean to prove this lady's courtesy. +Come hither, captain. + +Whispers + +You perceive my mind? + +Captain +I do, my lord, and mean accordingly. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Auvergne. The COUNTESS's castle. + +Enter the COUNTESS and her Porter +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Porter, remember what I gave in charge; +And when you have done so, bring the keys to me. + +Porter +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +The plot is laid: if all things fall out right, +I shall as famous be by this exploit +As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death. +Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight, +And his achievements of no less account: +Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears, +To give their censure of these rare reports. + +Enter Messenger and TALBOT + +Messenger +Madam, +According as your ladyship desired, +By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +And he is welcome. What! is this the man? + +Messenger +Madam, it is. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +Is this the scourge of France? +Is this the Talbot, so much fear'd abroad +That with his name the mothers still their babes? +I see report is fabulous and false: +I thought I should have seen some Hercules, +A second Hector, for his grim aspect, +And large proportion of his strong-knit limbs. +Alas, this is a child, a silly dwarf! +It cannot be this weak and writhled shrimp +Should strike such terror to his enemies. + +TALBOT +Madam, I have been bold to trouble you; +But since your ladyship is not at leisure, +I'll sort some other time to visit you. +COUNTESS + +OF AUVERGNE +What means he now? Go ask him whither he goes. + +Messenger +Stay, my Lord Talbot; for my lady craves +To know the cause of your abrupt departure. + +TALBOT +Marry, for that she's in a wrong belief, +I go to certify her Talbot's here. + +Re-enter Porter with keys + +COUNTESS + +The Second part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 2 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL, on the one side; QUEEN MARGARET, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other +SUFFOLK +As by your high imperial majesty +I had in charge at my depart for France, +As procurator to your excellence, +To marry Princess Margaret for your grace, +So, in the famous ancient city, Tours, +In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, +The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and Alencon, +Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops, +I have perform'd my task and was espoused: +And humbly now upon my bended knee, +In sight of England and her lordly peers, +Deliver up my title in the queen +To your most gracious hands, that are the substance +Of that great shadow I did represent; +The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, +The fairest queen that ever king received. + +KING HENRY VI +Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Margaret: +I can express no kinder sign of love +Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life, +Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! +For thou hast given me in this beauteous face +A world of earthly blessings to my soul, +If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Great King of England and my gracious lord, +The mutual conference that my mind hath had, +By day, by night, waking and in my dreams, +In courtly company or at my beads, +With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign, +Makes me the bolder to salute my king +With ruder terms, such as my wit affords +And over-joy of heart doth minister. + +KING HENRY VI +Her sight did ravish; but her grace in speech, +Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty, +Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys; +Such is the fulness of my heart's content. +Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. + +ALL +[Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's +happiness! + +QUEEN MARGARET +We thank you all. + +Flourish + +SUFFOLK +My lord protector, so it please your grace, +Here are the articles of contracted peace +Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, +For eighteen months concluded by consent. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'Imprimis, it is agreed between the French +king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of +Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that +the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, +daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and +Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the +thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy +of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released +and delivered to the king her father'-- + +Lets the paper fall + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, how now! + +GLOUCESTER +Pardon me, gracious lord; +Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart +And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. + +CARDINAL +[Reads] 'Item, It is further agreed between them, +that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be +released and delivered over to the king her father, +and she sent over of the King of England's own +proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.' + +KING HENRY VI +They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down: +We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk, +And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York, +We here discharge your grace from being regent +I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months +Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester, +Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, +Salisbury, and Warwick; +We thank you all for the great favour done, +In entertainment to my princely queen. +Come, let us in, and with all speed provide +To see her coronation be perform'd. + +Exeunt KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, and SUFFOLK + +GLOUCESTER +Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, +To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, +Your grief, the common grief of all the land. +What! did my brother Henry spend his youth, +His valour, coin and people, in the wars? +Did he so often lodge in open field, +In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, +To conquer France, his true inheritance? +And did my brother Bedford toil his wits, +To keep by policy what Henry got? +Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, +Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, +Received deep scars in France and Normandy? +Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, +With all the learned council of the realm, +Studied so long, sat in the council-house +Early and late, debating to and fro +How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, +And had his highness in his infancy +Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? +And shall these labours and these honours die? +Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance, +Your deeds of war and all our counsel die? +O peers of England, shameful is this league! +Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, +Blotting your names from books of memory, +Razing the characters of your renown, +Defacing monuments of conquer'd France, +Undoing all, as all had never been! + +CARDINAL +Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, +This peroration with such circumstance? +For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can; +But now it is impossible we should: +Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, +Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine +Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style +Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. + +SALISBURY +Now, by the death of Him that died for all, +These counties were the keys of Normandy. +But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son? + +WARWICK +For grief that they are past recovery: +For, were there hope to conquer them again, +My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. +Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both; +Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer: +And are the cities, that I got with wounds, +Delivered up again with peaceful words? +Mort Dieu! + +YORK +For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate, +That dims the honour of this warlike isle! +France should have torn and rent my very heart, +Before I would have yielded to this league. +I never read but England's kings have had +Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives: +And our King Henry gives away his own, +To match with her that brings no vantages. + +GLOUCESTER +A proper jest, and never heard before, +That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth +For costs and charges in transporting her! +She should have stayed in France and starved +in France, Before-- + +CARDINAL +My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot: +It was the pleasure of my lord the King. + +GLOUCESTER +My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind; +'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, +But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye. +Rancour will out: proud prelate, in thy face +I see thy fury: if I longer stay, +We shall begin our ancient bickerings. +Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone, +I prophesied France will be lost ere long. + +Exit + +CARDINAL +So, there goes our protector in a rage. +'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, +Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, +And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. +Consider, lords, he is the next of blood, +And heir apparent to the English crown: +Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, +And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west, +There's reason he should be displeased at it. +Look to it, lords! let not his smoothing words +Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect. +What though the common people favour him, +Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of +Gloucester,' +Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice, +'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!' +With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!' +I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss, +He will be found a dangerous protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why should he, then, protect our sovereign, +He being of age to govern of himself? +Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, +And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, +We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat. + +CARDINAL +This weighty business will not brook delay: +I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. + +Exit + +SOMERSET +Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride +And greatness of his place be grief to us, +Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal: +His insolence is more intolerable +Than all the princes in the land beside: +If Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector, +Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal. + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET + +SALISBURY +Pride went before, ambition follows him. +While these do labour for their own preferment, +Behoves it us to labour for the realm. +I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester +Did bear him like a noble gentleman. +Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, +More like a soldier than a man o' the church, +As stout and proud as he were lord of all, +Swear like a ruffian and demean himself +Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. +Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, +Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping, +Hath won the greatest favour of the commons, +Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey: +And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, +In bringing them to civil discipline, +Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, +When thou wert regent for our sovereign, +Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people: +Join we together, for the public good, +In what we can, to bridle and suppress +The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal, +With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition; +And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds, +While they do tend the profit of the land. + +WARWICK +So God help Warwick, as he loves the land, +And common profit of his country! + +YORK +[Aside] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause. + +SALISBURY +Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main. + +WARWICK +Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost; +That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, +And would have kept so long as breath did last! +Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, +Which I will win from France, or else be slain, + +Exeunt WARWICK and SALISBURY + +YORK +Anjou and Maine are given to the French; +Paris is lost; the state of Normandy +Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: +Suffolk concluded on the articles, +The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased +To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. +I cannot blame them all: what is't to them? +'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. +Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage +And purchase friends and give to courtezans, +Still revelling like lords till all be gone; +While as the silly owner of the goods +Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands +And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof, +While all is shared and all is borne away, +Ready to starve and dare not touch his own: +So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue, +While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold. +Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland +Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood +As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd +Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. +Anjou and Maine both given unto the French! +Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, +Even as I have of fertile England's soil. +A day will come when York shall claim his own; +And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts +And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, +And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, +For that's the golden mark I seek to hit: +Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, +Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist, +Nor wear the diadem upon his head, +Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown. +Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve: +Watch thou and wake when others be asleep, +To pry into the secrets of the state; +Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love, +With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, +And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars: +Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, +With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed; +And in my standard bear the arms of York +To grapple with the house of Lancaster; +And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown, +Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down. + +Exit + +SCENE II. GLOUCESTER'S house. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his DUCHESS +DUCHESS +Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn, +Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? +Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows, +As frowning at the favours of the world? +Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth, +Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight? +What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem, +Enchased with all the honours of the world? +If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, +Until thy head be circled with the same. +Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold. +What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine: +And, having both together heaved it up, +We'll both together lift our heads to heaven, +And never more abase our sight so low +As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. + +GLOUCESTER +O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, +Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts. +And may that thought, when I imagine ill +Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, +Be my last breathing in this mortal world! +My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. + +DUCHESS +What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it +With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. + +GLOUCESTER +Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, +Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot, +But, as I think, it was by the cardinal; +And on the pieces of the broken wand +Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, +And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. +This was my dream: what it doth bode, God knows. + +DUCHESS +Tut, this was nothing but an argument +That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove +Shall lose his head for his presumption. +But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: +Methought I sat in seat of majesty +In the cathedral church of Westminster, +And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd; +Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me +And on my head did set the diadem. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: +Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, +Art thou not second woman in the realm, +And the protector's wife, beloved of him? +Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, +Above the reach or compass of thy thought? +And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, +To tumble down thy husband and thyself +From top of honour to disgrace's feet? +Away from me, and let me hear no more! + +DUCHESS +What, what, my lord! are you so choleric +With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? +Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself, +And not be cheque'd. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again. + +Enter Messenger + +Messenger +My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure +You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, +Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk. + +GLOUCESTER +I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? + +DUCHESS +Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger + +Follow I must; I cannot go before, +While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. +Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, +I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks +And smooth my way upon their headless necks; +And, being a woman, I will not be slack +To play my part in Fortune's pageant. +Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, +We are alone; here's none but thee and I. + +Enter HUME + +HUME +Jesus preserve your royal majesty! + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace. + +HUME +But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice, +Your grace's title shall be multiplied. + +DUCHESS +What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd +With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch, +With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? +And will they undertake to do me good? + +HUME +This they have promised, to show your highness +A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, +That shall make answer to such questions +As by your grace shall be propounded him. + +DUCHESS +It is enough; I'll think upon the questions: +When from St. Alban's we do make return, +We'll see these things effected to the full. +Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, +With thy confederates in this weighty cause. + +Exit + +HUME +Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold; +Marry, and shall. But how now, Sir John Hume! +Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum: +The business asketh silent secrecy. +Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: +Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. +Yet have I gold flies from another coast; +I dare not say, from the rich cardinal +And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, +Yet I do find it so; for to be plain, +They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, +Have hired me to undermine the duchess +And buz these conjurations in her brain. +They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker;' +Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. +Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near +To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. +Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last +Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck, +And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall: +Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the Armourer's man, being one +First Petitioner +My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector +will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver +our supplications in the quill. + +Second Petitioner +Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! +Jesu bless him! + +Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET + +PETER +Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. +I'll be the first, sure. + +Second Petitioner +Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and +not my lord protector. + +SUFFOLK +How now, fellow! would'st anything with me? + +First Petitioner +I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord +protector. + +QUEEN MARGARET +[Reading] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your +supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: +what is thine? + +First Petitioner +Mine is, an't please your grace, against John +Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my +house, and lands, and wife and all, from me. + +SUFFOLK +Thy wife, too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's +yours? What's here! + +Reads + +'Against the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the +commons of Melford.' How now, sir knave! + +Second Petitioner +Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township. + +PETER +[Giving his petition] Against my master, Thomas +Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful +heir to the crown. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What sayst thou? did the Duke of York say he was +rightful heir to the crown? + +PETER +That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said +that he was, and that the king was an usurper. + +SUFFOLK +Who is there? + +Enter Servant + +Take this fellow in, and send for +his master with a pursuivant presently: we'll hear +more of your matter before the King. + +Exit Servant with PETER + +QUEEN MARGARET +And as for you, that love to be protected +Under the wings of our protector's grace, +Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. + +Tears the supplication + +Away, base cullions! Suffolk, let them go. + +ALL +Come, let's be gone. + +Exeunt + +QUEEN MARGARET +My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, +Is this the fashion in the court of England? +Is this the government of Britain's isle, +And this the royalty of Albion's king? +What shall King Henry be a pupil still +Under the surly Gloucester's governance? +Am I a queen in title and in style, +And must be made a subject to a duke? +I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours +Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love +And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, +I thought King Henry had resembled thee +In courage, courtship and proportion: +But all his mind is bent to holiness, +To number Ave-Maries on his beads; +His champions are the prophets and apostles, +His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, +His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves +Are brazen images of canonized saints. +I would the college of the cardinals +Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome, +And set the triple crown upon his head: +That were a state fit for his holiness. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, be patient: as I was cause +Your highness came to England, so will I +In England work your grace's full content. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort, +The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, +And grumbling York: and not the least of these +But can do more in England than the king. + +SUFFOLK +And he of these that can do most of all +Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: +Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Not all these lords do vex me half so much +As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. +She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, +More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife: +Strangers in court do take her for the queen: +She bears a duke's revenues on her back, +And in her heart she scorns our poverty: +Shall I not live to be avenged on her? +Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, +She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, +The very train of her worst wearing gown +Was better worth than all my father's lands, +Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. + +SUFFOLK +Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, +And placed a quire of such enticing birds, +That she will light to listen to the lays, +And never mount to trouble you again. +So, let her rest: and, madam, list to me; +For I am bold to counsel you in this. +Although we fancy not the cardinal, +Yet must we join with him and with the lords, +Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. +As for the Duke of York, this late complaint +Will make but little for his benefit. +So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last, +And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and the DUCHESS + +KING HENRY VI +For my part, noble lords, I care not which; +Or Somerset or York, all's one to me. + +YORK +If York have ill demean'd himself in France, +Then let him be denay'd the regentship. + +SOMERSET +If Somerset be unworthy of the place, +Let York be regent; I will yield to him. + +WARWICK +Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no, +Dispute not that: York is the worthier. + +CARDINAL +Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. + +WARWICK +The cardinal's not my better in the field. + +BUCKINGHAM +All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. + +WARWICK +Warwick may live to be the best of all. + +SALISBURY +Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham, +Why Somerset should be preferred in this. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Because the king, forsooth, will have it so. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, the king is old enough himself +To give his censure: these are no women's matters. + +QUEEN MARGARET +If he be old enough, what needs your grace +To be protector of his excellence? + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, I am protector of the realm; +And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. + +SUFFOLK +Resign it then and leave thine insolence. +Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?-- +The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck; +The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas; +And all the peers and nobles of the realm +Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. + +CARDINAL +The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags +Are lank and lean with thy extortions. + +SOMERSET +Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire +Have cost a mass of public treasury. + +BUCKINGHAM +Thy cruelty in execution +Upon offenders, hath exceeded law, +And left thee to the mercy of the law. + +QUEEN MARGARET +They sale of offices and towns in France, +If they were known, as the suspect is great, +Would make thee quickly hop without thy head. + +Exit GLOUCESTER. QUEEN MARGARET drops her fan + +Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not? + +She gives the DUCHESS a box on the ear + +I cry you mercy, madam; was it you? + +DUCHESS +Was't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman: +Could I come near your beauty with my nails, +I'd set my ten commandments in your face. + +KING HENRY VI +Sweet aunt, be quiet; 'twas against her will. + +DUCHESS +Against her will! good king, look to't in time; +She'll hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby: +Though in this place most master wear no breeches, +She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. + +Exit + +BUCKINGHAM +Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, +And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds: +She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs, +She'll gallop far enough to her destruction. + +Exit + +Re-enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Now, lords, my choler being over-blown +With walking once about the quadrangle, +I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. +As for your spiteful false objections, +Prove them, and I lie open to the law: +But God in mercy so deal with my soul, +As I in duty love my king and country! +But, to the matter that we have in hand: +I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man +To be your regent in the realm of France. + +SUFFOLK +Before we make election, give me leave +To show some reason, of no little force, +That York is most unmeet of any man. + +YORK +I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: +First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; +Next, if I be appointed for the place, +My Lord of Somerset will keep me here, +Without discharge, money, or furniture, +Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands: +Last time, I danced attendance on his will +Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost. + +WARWICK +That can I witness; and a fouler fact +Did never traitor in the land commit. + +SUFFOLK +Peace, headstrong Warwick! + +WARWICK +Image of pride, why should I hold my peace? + +Enter HORNER, the Armourer, and his man PETER, guarded + +SUFFOLK +Because here is a man accused of treason: +Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself! + +YORK +Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? + +KING HENRY VI +What mean'st thou, Suffolk; tell me, what are these? + +SUFFOLK +Please it your majesty, this is the man +That doth accuse his master of high treason: +His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York, +Was rightful heir unto the English crown +And that your majesty was a usurper. + +KING HENRY VI +Say, man, were these thy words? + +HORNER +An't shall please your majesty, I never said nor +thought any such matter: God is my witness, I am +falsely accused by the villain. + +PETER +By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to +me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my +Lord of York's armour. + +YORK +Base dunghill villain and mechanical, +I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech. +I do beseech your royal majesty, +Let him have all the rigor of the law. + +HORNER +Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the words. +My accuser is my 'prentice; and when I did correct +him for his fault the other day, he did vow upon his +knees he would be even with me: I have good +witness of this: therefore I beseech your majesty, +do not cast away an honest man for a villain's +accusation. + +KING HENRY VI +Uncle, what shall we say to this in law? + +GLOUCESTER +This doom, my lord, if I may judge: +Let Somerset be regent over the French, +Because in York this breeds suspicion: +And let these have a day appointed them +For single combat in convenient place, +For he hath witness of his servant's malice: +This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. + +SOMERSET +I humbly thank your royal majesty. + +HORNER +And I accept the combat willingly. + +PETER +Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity +my case. The spite of man prevaileth against me. O +Lord, have mercy upon me! I shall never be able to +fight a blow. O Lord, my heart! + +GLOUCESTER +Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd. + +KING HENRY VI +Away with them to prison; and the day of combat +shall be the last of the next month. Come, +Somerset, we'll see thee sent away. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. GLOUCESTER's garden. + +Enter MARGARET JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE +HUME +Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects +performance of your promises. + +BOLINGBROKE +Master Hume, we are therefore provided: will her +ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms? + +HUME +Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. + +BOLINGBROKE +I have heard her reported to be a woman of an +invincible spirit: but it shall be convenient, +Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while we be +busy below; and so, I pray you, go, in God's name, +and leave us. + +Exit HUME + +Mother Jourdain, be you +prostrate and grovel on the earth; John Southwell, +read you; and let us to our work. + +Enter the DUCHESS aloft, HUME following + +DUCHESS +Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this +gear the sooner the better. + +BOLINGBROKE +Patience, good lady; wizards know their times: +Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night, +The time of night when Troy was set on fire; +The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl, +And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves, +That time best fits the work we have in hand. +Madam, sit you and fear not: whom we raise, +We will make fast within a hallow'd verge. + +Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; BOLINGBROKE or SOUTHWELL reads, Conjuro te, & c. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth + +Spirit +Adsum. + +MARGARET JOURDAIN +Asmath, +By the eternal God, whose name and power +Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask; +For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass from hence. + +Spirit +Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done! + +BOLINGBROKE +'First of the king: what shall of him become?' + +Reading out of a paper + +Spirit +The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death. + +As the Spirit speaks, SOUTHWELL writes the answer + +BOLINGBROKE +'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?' + +Spirit +By water shall he die, and take his end. + +BOLINGBROKE +'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?' + +Spirit +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand. +Have done, for more I hardly can endure. + +BOLINGBROKE +Descend to darkness and the burning lake! +False fiend, avoid! + +Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit + +Enter YORK and BUCKINGHAM with their Guard and break in + +YORK +Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. +Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch. +What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal +Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains: +My lord protector will, I doubt it not, +See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts. + +DUCHESS +Not half so bad as thine to England's king, +Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause. + +BUCKINGHAM +True, madam, none at all: what call you this? +Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close. +And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us. +Stafford, take her to thee. + +Exeunt above DUCHESS and HUME, guarded + +We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming. +All, away! + +Exeunt guard with MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, & c + +YORK +Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well: +A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon! +Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ. +What have we here? + +Reads + +'The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; +But him outlive, and die a violent death.' +Why, this is just +'Aio te, AEacida, Romanos vincere posse.' +Well, to the rest: +'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk? +By water shall he die, and take his end. +What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? +Let him shun castles; +Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains +Than where castles mounted stand.' +Come, come, my lords; +These oracles are hardly attain'd, +And hardly understood. +The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's, +With him the husband of this lovely lady: +Thither go these news, as fast as horse can +carry them: +A sorry breakfast for my lord protector. + +BUCKINGHAM +Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, +To be the post, in hope of his reward. + +YORK +At your pleasure, my good lord. Who's within +there, ho! + +Enter a Servingman + +Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick +To sup with me to-morrow night. Away! + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Saint Alban's. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with Falconers halloing +QUEEN MARGARET +Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook, +I saw not better sport these seven years' day: +Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high; +And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. + +KING HENRY VI +But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, +And what a pitch she flew above the rest! +To see how God in all his creatures works! +Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. + +SUFFOLK +No marvel, an it like your majesty, +My lord protector's hawks do tower so well; +They know their master loves to be aloft, +And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind +That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. + +CARDINAL +I thought as much; he would be above the clouds. + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that? +Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven? + +KING HENRY VI +The treasury of everlasting joy. + +CARDINAL +Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts +Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart; +Pernicious protector, dangerous peer, +That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal! + +GLOUCESTER +What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory? +Tantaene animis coelestibus irae? +Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice; +With such holiness can you do it? + +SUFFOLK +No malice, sir; no more than well becomes +So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. + +GLOUCESTER +As who, my lord? + +SUFFOLK +Why, as you, my lord, +An't like your lordly lord-protectorship. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And thy ambition, Gloucester. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, peace, good queen, +And whet not on these furious peers; +For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. + +CARDINAL +Let me be blessed for the peace I make, +Against this proud protector, with my sword! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Faith, holy uncle, would +'twere come to that! + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Marry, when thou darest. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Make up no factious +numbers for the matter; +In thine own person answer thy abuse. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Ay, where thou darest +not peep: an if thou darest, +This evening, on the east side of the grove. + +KING HENRY VI +How now, my lords! + +CARDINAL +Believe me, cousin Gloucester, +Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly, +We had had more sport. + +Aside to GLOUCESTER + +Come with thy two-hand sword. + +GLOUCESTER +True, uncle. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Are ye advised? the +east side of the grove? + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CARDINAL] Cardinal, I am with you. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, how now, uncle Gloucester! + +GLOUCESTER +Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord. + +Aside to CARDINAL + +Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll shave your crown for this, +Or all my fence shall fail. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] Medice, teipsum-- +Protector, see to't well, protect yourself. + +KING HENRY VI +The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords. +How irksome is this music to my heart! +When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? +I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. + +Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!' + +GLOUCESTER +What means this noise? +Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? + +Townsman +A miracle! a miracle! + +SUFFOLK +Come to the king and tell him what miracle. + +Townsman +Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, +Within this half-hour, hath received his sight; +A man that ne'er saw in his life before. + +KING HENRY VI +Now, God be praised, that to believing souls +Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair! + +Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following + +CARDINAL +Here comes the townsmen on procession, +To present your highness with the man. + +KING HENRY VI +Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, +Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. + +GLOUCESTER +Stand by, my masters: bring him near the king; +His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance, +That we for thee may glorify the Lord. +What, hast thou been long blind and now restored? + +SIMPCOX +Born blind, an't please your grace. + +Wife +Ay, indeed, was he. + +SUFFOLK +What woman is this? + +Wife +His wife, an't like your worship. + +GLOUCESTER +Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have +better told. + +KING HENRY VI +Where wert thou born? + +SIMPCOX +At Berwick in the north, an't like your grace. + +KING HENRY VI +Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee: +Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, +But still remember what the Lord hath done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Tell me, good fellow, camest thou here by chance, +Or of devotion, to this holy shrine? + +SIMPCOX +God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd +A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep, +By good Saint Alban; who said, 'Simpcox, come, +Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.' + +Wife +Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft +Myself have heard a voice to call him so. + +CARDINAL +What, art thou lame? + +SIMPCOX +Ay, God Almighty help me! + +SUFFOLK +How camest thou so? + +SIMPCOX +A fall off of a tree. + +Wife +A plum-tree, master. + +GLOUCESTER +How long hast thou been blind? + +SIMPCOX +Born so, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What, and wouldst climb a tree? + +SIMPCOX +But that in all my life, when I was a youth. + +Wife +Too true; and bought his climbing very dear. + +GLOUCESTER +Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst +venture so. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, +And made me climb, with danger of my life. + +GLOUCESTER +A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve. +Let me see thine eyes: wink now: now open them: +In my opinion yet thou seest not well. + +SIMPCOX +Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and +Saint Alban. + +GLOUCESTER +Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? + +SIMPCOX +Red, master; red as blood. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of? + +SIMPCOX +Black, forsooth: coal-black as jet. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? + +SUFFOLK +And yet, I think, jet did he never see. + +GLOUCESTER +But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. + +Wife +Never, before this day, in all his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Tell me, sirrah, what's my name? + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +What's his name? + +SIMPCOX +I know not. + +GLOUCESTER +Nor his? + +SIMPCOX +No, indeed, master. + +GLOUCESTER +What's thine own name? + +SIMPCOX +Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. + +GLOUCESTER +Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in +Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou +mightest as well have known all our names as thus to +name the several colours we do wear. Sight may +distinguish of colours, but suddenly to nominate them +all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here +hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his +cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple +to his legs again? + +SIMPCOX +O master, that you could! + +GLOUCESTER +My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in +your town, and things called whips? + +Mayor +Yes, my lord, if it please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Then send for one presently. + +Mayor +Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. + +Exit an Attendant + +GLOUCESTER +Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, sirrah, +if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me +over this stool and run away. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone: +You go about to torture me in vain. + +Enter a Beadle with whips + +GLOUCESTER +Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. Sirrah +beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. + +Beadle +I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your +doublet quickly. + +SIMPCOX +Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand. + +After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!' + +KING HENRY VI +O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? + +QUEEN MARGARET +It made me laugh to see the villain run. + +GLOUCESTER +Follow the knave; and take this drab away. + +Wife +Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. + +GLOUCESTER +Let them be whipped through every market-town, till +they come to Berwick, from whence they came. + +Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, & c + +CARDINAL +Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day. + +SUFFOLK +True; made the lame to leap and fly away. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have done more miracles than I; +You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM + +KING HENRY VI +What tidings with our cousin Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. +A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, +Under the countenance and confederacy +Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, +The ringleader and head of all this rout, +Have practised dangerously against your state, +Dealing with witches and with conjurers: +Whom we have apprehended in the fact; +Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, +Demanding of King Henry's life and death, +And other of your highness' privy-council; +As more at large your grace shall understand. + +CARDINAL +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] And so, my lord protector, +by this means +Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. +This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge; +'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. + +GLOUCESTER +Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart: +Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers; +And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee, +Or to the meanest groom. + +KING HENRY VI +O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, +Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby! + +QUEEN MARGARET +Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest. +And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal, +How I have loved my king and commonweal: +And, for my wife, I know not how it stands; +Sorry I am to hear what I have heard: +Noble she is, but if she have forgot +Honour and virtue and conversed with such +As, like to pitch, defile nobility, +I banish her my bed and company +And give her as a prey to law and shame, +That hath dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. + +KING HENRY VI +Well, for this night we will repose us here: +To-morrow toward London back again, +To look into this business thoroughly +And call these foul offenders to their answers +And poise the cause in justice' equal scales, +Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. YORK'S garden. + +Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK +YORK +Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, +Our simple supper ended, give me leave +In this close walk to satisfy myself, +In craving your opinion of my title, +Which is infallible, to England's crown. + +SALISBURY +My lord, I long to hear it at full. + +WARWICK +Sweet York, begin: and if thy claim be good, +The Nevils are thy subjects to command. + +YORK +Then thus: +Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons: +The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; +The second, William of Hatfield, and the third, +Lionel Duke of Clarence: next to whom +Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; +The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; +The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; +William of Windsor was the seventh and last. +Edward the Black Prince died before his father +And left behind him Richard, his only son, +Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king; +Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, +The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, +Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth, +Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, +Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came, +And him to Pomfret; where, as all you know, +Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously. + +WARWICK +Father, the duke hath told the truth: +Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. + +YORK +Which now they hold by force and not by right; +For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, +The issue of the next son should have reign'd. + +SALISBURY +But William of Hatfield died without an heir. + +YORK +The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line +I claimed the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter, +Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March: +Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March; +Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor. + +SALISBURY +This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, +As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; +And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, +Who kept him in captivity till he died. +But to the rest. + +YORK +His eldest sister, Anne, +My mother, being heir unto the crown +Married Richard Earl of Cambridge; who was son +To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. +By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir +To Roger Earl of March, who was the son +Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, +Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence: +So, if the issue of the elder son +Succeed before the younger, I am king. + +WARWICK +What plain proceeding is more plain than this? +Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, +The fourth son; York claims it from the third. +Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign: +It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee +And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. +Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; +And in this private plot be we the first +That shall salute our rightful sovereign +With honour of his birthright to the crown. + +BOTH +Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king! + +YORK +We thank you, lords. But I am not your king +Till I be crown'd and that my sword be stain'd +With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; +And that's not suddenly to be perform'd, +But with advice and silent secrecy. +Do you as I do in these dangerous days: +Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, +At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, +At Buckingham and all the crew of them, +Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, +That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey: +'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that +Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. + +SALISBURY +My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full. + +WARWICK +My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick +Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. + +YORK +And, Nevil, this I do assure myself: +Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick +The greatest man in England but the king. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall of justice. + +Sound trumpets. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS, MARGARET JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard +KING HENRY VI +Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's wife: +In sight of God and us, your guilt is great: +Receive the sentence of the law for sins +Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. +You four, from hence to prison back again; +From thence unto the place of execution: +The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes, +And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. +You, madam, for you are more nobly born, +Despoiled of your honour in your life, +Shall, after three days' open penance done, +Live in your country here in banishment, +With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man. + +DUCHESS +Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death. + +GLOUCESTER +Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath judged thee: +I cannot justify whom the law condemns. + +Exeunt DUCHESS and other prisoners, guarded + +Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. +Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age +Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground! +I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; +Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go, +Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself +Protector be; and God shall be my hope, +My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet: +And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved +Than when thou wert protector to thy King. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I see no reason why a king of years +Should be to be protected like a child. +God and King Henry govern England's realm. +Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm. + +GLOUCESTER +My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: +As willingly do I the same resign +As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; +And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it +As others would ambitiously receive it. +Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, +May honourable peace attend thy throne! + +Exit + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen; +And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, +That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once; +His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off. +This staff of honour raught, there let it stand +Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. + +SUFFOLK +Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; +Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. + +YORK +Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, +This is the day appointed for the combat; +And ready are the appellant and defendant, +The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, +So please your highness to behold the fight. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore +Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried. + +KING HENRY VI +O God's name, see the lists and all things fit: +Here let them end it; and God defend the right! + +YORK +I never saw a fellow worse bested, +Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, +The servant of this armourer, my lords. + +Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters with a drum before him and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sand-bag, and 'Prentices drinking to him + +First Neighbour +Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of +sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. + +Second Neighbour +And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco. + +Third Neighbour +And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour: +drink, and fear not your man. + +HORNER +Let it come, i' faith, and I'll pledge you all; and +a fig for Peter! +First 'Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid. +Second 'Prentice Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight +for credit of the 'prentices. + +PETER +I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray +you; for I think I have taken my last draught in +this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee +my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: +and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O +Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to +deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already. + +SALISBURY +Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. +Sirrah, what's thy name? + +PETER +Peter, forsooth. + +SALISBURY +Peter! what more? + +PETER +Thump. + +SALISBURY +Thump! then see thou thump thy master well. + +HORNER +Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's +instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an +honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will +take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the +king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at +thee with a downright blow! + +YORK +Dispatch: this knave's tongue begins to double. +Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants! + +Alarum. They fight, and PETER strikes him down + +HORNER +Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. + +Dies + +YORK +Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the +good wine in thy master's way. + +PETER +O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence? +O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! + +KING HENRY VI +Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; +For his death we do perceive his guilt: +And God in justice hath revealed to us +The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, +Which he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully. +Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. + +Sound a flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks +GLOUCESTER +Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; +And after summer evermore succeeds +Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold: +So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. +Sirs, what's o'clock? + +Servants +Ten, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +Ten is the hour that was appointed me +To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: +Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, +To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. +Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook +The abject people gazing on thy face, +With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, +That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels +When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. +But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare +My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. + +Enter the DUCHESS in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers + +Servant +So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff. + +GLOUCESTER +No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. + +DUCHESS +Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? +Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! +See how the giddy multitude do point, +And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! +Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, +And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, +And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! + +GLOUCESTER +Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. + +DUCHESS +Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! +For whilst I think I am thy married wife +And thou a prince, protector of this land, +Methinks I should not thus be led along, +Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back, +And followed with a rabble that rejoice +To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. +The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, +And when I start, the envious people laugh +And bid me be advised how I tread. +Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? +Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world, +Or count them happy that enjoy the sun? +No; dark shall be my light and night my day; +To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. +Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife, +And he a prince and ruler of the land: +Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was +As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess, +Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock +To every idle rascal follower. +But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, +Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death +Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will; +For Suffolk, he that can do all in all +With her that hateth thee and hates us all, +And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, +Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings, +And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee: +But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, +Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry; +I must offend before I be attainted; +And had I twenty times so many foes, +And each of them had twenty times their power, +All these could not procure me any scathe, +So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless. +Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach? +Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away +But I in danger for the breach of law. +Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell: +I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; +These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. + +Enter a Herald + +Herald +I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, +Holden at Bury the first of this next month. + +GLOUCESTER +And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! +This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. + +Exit Herald + +My Nell, I take my leave: and, master sheriff, +Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. + +Sheriff +An't please your grace, here my commission stays, +And Sir John Stanley is appointed now +To take her with him to the Isle of Man. + +GLOUCESTER +Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? + +STANLEY +So am I given in charge, may't please your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Entreat her not the worse in that I pray +You use her well: the world may laugh again; +And I may live to do you kindness if +You do it her: and so, Sir John, farewell! + +DUCHESS +What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell! + +GLOUCESTER +Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Servingmen + +DUCHESS +Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! +For none abides with me: my joy is death; +Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd, +Because I wish'd this world's eternity. +Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence; +I care not whither, for I beg no favour, +Only convey me where thou art commanded. + +STANLEY +Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; +There to be used according to your state. + +DUCHESS +That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: +And shall I then be used reproachfully? + +STANLEY +Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady; +According to that state you shall be used. + +DUCHESS +Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, +Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. + +Sheriff +It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. + +DUCHESS +Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged. +Come, Stanley, shall we go? + +STANLEY +Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, +And go we to attire you for our journey. + +DUCHESS +My shame will not be shifted with my sheet: +No, it will hang upon my richest robes +And show itself, attire me how I can. +Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's. + +Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament +KING HENRY VI +I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come: +'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, +Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Can you not see? or will ye not observe +The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? +With what a majesty he bears himself, +How insolent of late he is become, +How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? +We know the time since he was mild and affable, +And if we did but glance a far-off look, +Immediately he was upon his knee, +That all the court admired him for submission: +But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, +When every one will give the time of day, +He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, +And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, +Disdaining duty that to us belongs. +Small curs are not regarded when they grin; +But great men tremble when the lion roars; +And Humphrey is no little man in England. +First note that he is near you in descent, +And should you fall, he as the next will mount. +Me seemeth then it is no policy, +Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears +And his advantage following your decease, +That he should come about your royal person +Or be admitted to your highness' council. +By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, +And when he please to make commotion, +'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. +Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; +Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden +And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. +The reverent care I bear unto my lord +Made me collect these dangers in the duke. +If it be fond, call it a woman's fear; +Which fear if better reasons can supplant, +I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. +My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, +Reprove my allegation, if you can; +Or else conclude my words effectual. + +SUFFOLK +Well hath your highness seen into this duke; +And, had I first been put to speak my mind, +I think I should have told your grace's tale. +The duchess, by his subornation, +Upon my life, began her devilish practises: +Or, if he were not privy to those faults, +Yet, by reputing of his high descent, +As next the king he was successive heir, +And such high vaunts of his nobility, +Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess +By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. +Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep; +And in his simple show he harbours treason. +The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. +No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man +Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. + +CARDINAL +Did he not, contrary to form of law, +Devise strange deaths for small offences done? + +YORK +And did he not, in his protectorship, +Levy great sums of money through the realm +For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? +By means whereof the towns each day revolted. + +BUCKINGHAM +Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown. +Which time will bring to light in smooth +Duke Humphrey. + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, at once: the care you have of us, +To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, +Is worthy praise: but, shall I speak my conscience, +Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent +From meaning treason to our royal person +As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove: +The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given +To dream on evil or to work my downfall. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! +Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, +For he's disposed as the hateful raven: +Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him, +For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. +Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? +Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all +Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. + +Enter SOMERSET + +SOMERSET +All health unto my gracious sovereign! + +KING HENRY VI +Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? + +SOMERSET +That all your interest in those territories +Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. + +KING HENRY VI +Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done! + +YORK +[Aside] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France +As firmly as I hope for fertile England. +Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud +And caterpillars eat my leaves away; +But I will remedy this gear ere long, +Or sell my title for a glorious grave. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +All happiness unto my lord the king! +Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long. + +SUFFOLK +Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, +Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art: +I do arrest thee of high treason here. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush +Nor change my countenance for this arrest: +A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. +The purest spring is not so free from mud +As I am clear from treason to my sovereign: +Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty? + +YORK +'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, +And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay; +By means whereof his highness hath lost France. + +GLOUCESTER +Is it but thought so? what are they that think it? +I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, +Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. +So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, +Ay, night by night, in studying good for England, +That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, +Or any groat I hoarded to my use, +Be brought against me at my trial-day! +No; many a pound of mine own proper store, +Because I would not tax the needy commons, +Have I disbursed to the garrisons, +And never ask'd for restitution. + +CARDINAL +It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. + +GLOUCESTER +I say no more than truth, so help me God! + +YORK +In your protectorship you did devise +Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, +That England was defamed by tyranny. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was +protector, +Pity was all the fault that was in me; +For I should melt at an offender's tears, +And lowly words were ransom for their fault. +Unless it were a bloody murderer, +Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, +I never gave them condign punishment: +Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured +Above the felon or what trespass else. + +SUFFOLK +My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered: +But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, +Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. +I do arrest you in his highness' name; +And here commit you to my lord cardinal +To keep, until your further time of trial. + +KING HENRY VI +My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope +That you will clear yourself from all suspect: +My conscience tells me you are innocent. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous: +Virtue is choked with foul ambition +And charity chased hence by rancour's hand; +Foul subornation is predominant +And equity exiled your highness' land. +I know their complot is to have my life, +And if my death might make this island happy, +And prove the period of their tyranny, +I would expend it with all willingness: +But mine is made the prologue to their play; +For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, +Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. +Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, +And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; +Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue +The envious load that lies upon his heart; +And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, +Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, +By false accuse doth level at my life: +And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, +Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, +And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up +My liefest liege to be mine enemy: +Ay, all you have laid your heads together-- +Myself had notice of your conventicles-- +And all to make away my guiltless life. +I shall not want false witness to condemn me, +Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; +The ancient proverb will be well effected: +'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' + +CARDINAL +My liege, his railing is intolerable: +If those that care to keep your royal person +From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage +Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at, +And the offender granted scope of speech, +'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. + +SUFFOLK +Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here +With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, +As if she had suborned some to swear +False allegations to o'erthrow his state? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But I can give the loser leave to chide. + +GLOUCESTER +Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; +Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! +And well such losers may have leave to speak. + +BUCKINGHAM +He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day: +Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. + +CARDINAL +Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. + +GLOUCESTER +Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch +Before his legs be firm to bear his body. +Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, +And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. +Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! +For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. + +Exit, guarded + +The Third part of King Henry the Sixth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VI, part 3 | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house. + +Alarum. Enter YORK, EDWARD, RICHARD, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers +WARWICK +I wonder how the king escaped our hands. + +YORK +While we pursued the horsemen of the north, +He slily stole away and left his men: +Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, +Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, +Cheer'd up the drooping army; and himself, +Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, +Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in +Were by the swords of common soldiers slain. + +EDWARD +Lord Stafford's father, Duke of Buckingham, +Is either slain or wounded dangerously; +I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: +That this is true, father, behold his blood. + +MONTAGUE +And, brother, here's the Earl of Wiltshire's blood, +Whom I encounter'd as the battles join'd. + +RICHARD +Speak thou for me and tell them what I did. + +Throwing down SOMERSET's head + +YORK +Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. +But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset? + +NORFOLK +Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt! + +RICHARD +Thus do I hope to shake King Henry's head. + +WARWICK +And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, +Before I see thee seated in that throne +Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, +I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. +This is the palace of the fearful king, +And this the regal seat: possess it, York; +For this is thine and not King Henry's heirs' + +YORK +Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; +For hither we have broken in by force. + +NORFOLK +We'll all assist you; he that flies shall die. + +YORK +Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; +And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night. + +They go up + +WARWICK +And when the king comes, offer no violence, +Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce. + +YORK +The queen this day here holds her parliament, +But little thinks we shall be of her council: +By words or blows here let us win our right. + +RICHARD +Arm'd as we are, let's stay within this house. + +WARWICK +The bloody parliament shall this be call'd, +Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, +And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice +Hath made us by-words to our enemies. + +YORK +Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; +I mean to take possession of my right. + +WARWICK +Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, +The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, +Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. +I'll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: +Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, WESTMORELAND, EXETER, and the rest + +KING HENRY VI +My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, +Even in the chair of state: belike he means, +Back'd by the power of Warwick, that false peer, +To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. +Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father. +And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow'd revenge +On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +If I be not, heavens be revenged on me! + +CLIFFORD +The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel. + +WESTMORELAND +What, shall we suffer this? let's pluck him down: +My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland. + +CLIFFORD +Patience is for poltroons, such as he: +He durst not sit there, had your father lived. +My gracious lord, here in the parliament +Let us assail the family of York. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, know you not the city favours them, +And they have troops of soldiers at their beck? + +EXETER +But when the duke is slain, they'll quickly fly. + +KING HENRY VI +Far be the thought of this from Henry's heart, +To make a shambles of the parliament-house! +Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats +Shall be the war that Henry means to use. +Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, +and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; +I am thy sovereign. + +YORK +I am thine. + +EXETER +For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York. + +YORK +'Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was. + +EXETER +Thy father was a traitor to the crown. + +WARWICK +Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown +In following this usurping Henry. + +CLIFFORD +Whom should he follow but his natural king? + +WARWICK +True, Clifford; and that's Richard Duke of York. + +KING HENRY VI +And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne? + +YORK +It must and shall be so: content thyself. + +WARWICK +Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king. + +WESTMORELAND +He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; +And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain. + +WARWICK +And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget +That we are those which chased you from the field +And slew your fathers, and with colours spread +March'd through the city to the palace gates. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; +And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it. + +WESTMORELAND +Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, +Thy kinsman and thy friends, I'll have more lives +Than drops of blood were in my father's veins. + +CLIFFORD +Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, +I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger +As shall revenge his death before I stir. + +WARWICK +Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats! + +YORK +Will you we show our title to the crown? +If not, our swords shall plead it in the field. + +KING HENRY VI +What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? +Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; +Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: +I am the son of Henry the Fifth, +Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop +And seized upon their towns and provinces. + +WARWICK +Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all. + +KING HENRY VI +The lord protector lost it, and not I: +When I was crown'd I was but nine months old. + +RICHARD +You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. +Father, tear the crown from the usurper's head. + +EDWARD +Sweet father, do so; set it on your head. + +MONTAGUE +Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, +Let's fight it out and not stand cavilling thus. + +RICHARD +Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly. + +YORK +Sons, peace! + +KING HENRY VI +Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak. + +WARWICK +Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; +And be you silent and attentive too, +For he that interrupts him shall not live. + +KING HENRY VI +Think'st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, +Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? +No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; +Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, +And now in England to our heart's great sorrow, +Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? +My title's good, and better far than his. + +WARWICK +Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king. + +KING HENRY VI +Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown. + +YORK +'Twas by rebellion against his king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] I know not what to say; my title's weak.-- +Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir? + +YORK +What then? + +KING HENRY VI +An if he may, then am I lawful king; +For Richard, in the view of many lords, +Resign'd the crown to Henry the Fourth, +Whose heir my father was, and I am his. + +YORK +He rose against him, being his sovereign, +And made him to resign his crown perforce. + +WARWICK +Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain'd, +Think you 'twere prejudicial to his crown? + +EXETER +No; for he could not so resign his crown +But that the next heir should succeed and reign. + +KING HENRY VI +Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter? + +EXETER +His is the right, and therefore pardon me. + +YORK +Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not? + +EXETER +My conscience tells me he is lawful king. + +KING HENRY VI +[Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay'st, +Think not that Henry shall be so deposed. + +WARWICK +Deposed he shall be, in despite of all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Thou art deceived: 'tis not thy southern power, +Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, +Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, +Can set the duke up in despite of me. + +CLIFFORD +King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, +Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: +May that ground gape and swallow me alive, +Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father! + +KING HENRY VI +O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart! + +YORK +Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. +What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords? + +WARWICK +Do right unto this princely Duke of York, +Or I will fill the house with armed men, +And over the chair of state, where now he sits, +Write up his title with usurping blood. + +He stamps with his foot and the soldiers show themselves + +KING HENRY VI +My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: +Let me for this my life-time reign as king. + +YORK +Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, +And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest. + +KING HENRY VI +I am content: Richard Plantagenet, +Enjoy the kingdom after my decease. + +CLIFFORD +What wrong is this unto the prince your son! + +WARWICK +What good is this to England and himself! + +WESTMORELAND +Base, fearful and despairing Henry! + +CLIFFORD +How hast thou injured both thyself and us! + +WESTMORELAND +I cannot stay to hear these articles. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nor I. + +CLIFFORD +Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news. + +WESTMORELAND +Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, +In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be thou a prey unto the house of York, +And die in bands for this unmanly deed! + +CLIFFORD +In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, +Or live in peace abandon'd and despised! + +Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, CLIFFORD, and WESTMORELAND + +WARWICK +Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not. + +EXETER +They seek revenge and therefore will not yield. + +KING HENRY VI +Ah, Exeter! + +WARWICK +Why should you sigh, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, +Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. +But be it as it may: I here entail +The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; +Conditionally, that here thou take an oath +To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, +To honour me as thy king and sovereign, +And neither by treason nor hostility +To seek to put me down and reign thyself. + +YORK +This oath I willingly take and will perform. + +WARWICK +Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him. + +KING HENRY VI +And long live thou and these thy forward sons! + +YORK +Now York and Lancaster are reconciled. + +EXETER +Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes! + +Sennet. Here they come down + +YORK +Farewell, my gracious lord; I'll to my castle. + +WARWICK +And I'll keep London with my soldiers. + +NORFOLK +And I to Norfolk with my followers. + +MONTAGUE +And I unto the sea from whence I came. + +Exeunt YORK, EDWARD, EDMUND, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, their Soldiers, and Attendants + +KING HENRY VI +And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +EXETER +Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: +I'll steal away. + +KING HENRY VI +Exeter, so will I. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee. + +KING HENRY VI +Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Who can be patient in such extremes? +Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid +And never seen thee, never borne thee son, +Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father +Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? +Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, +Or felt that pain which I did for him once, +Or nourish'd him as I did with my blood, +Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, +Rather than have that savage duke thine heir +And disinherited thine only son. + +PRINCE EDWARD +Father, you cannot disinherit me: +If you be king, why should not I succeed? + +KING HENRY VI +Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: +The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? +I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! +Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; +And given unto the house of York such head +As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. +To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, +What is it, but to make thy sepulchre +And creep into it far before thy time? +Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; +Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; +The duke is made protector of the realm; +And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds +The trembling lamb environed with wolves. +Had I been there, which am a silly woman, +The soldiers should have toss'd me on their pikes +Before I would have granted to that act. +But thou preferr'st thy life before thine honour: +And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself +Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, +Until that act of parliament be repeal'd +Whereby my son is disinherited. +The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours +Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; +And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace +And utter ruin of the house of York. +Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let's away; +Our army is ready; come, we'll after them. + +KING HENRY VI +Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone. + +KING HENRY VI +Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, to be murder'd by his enemies. + +PRINCE EDWARD +When I return with victory from the field +I'll see your grace: till then I'll follow her. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Come, son, away; we may not linger thus. + +Exeunt QUEEN MARGARET and PRINCE EDWARD + +KING HENRY VI +Poor queen! how love to me and to her son +Hath made her break out into terms of rage! +Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, +Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, +Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle +Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! +The loss of those three lords torments my heart: +I'll write unto them and entreat them fair. +Come, cousin you shall be the messenger. + +EXETER +And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Sandal Castle. + +Enter RICHARD, EDWARD, and MONTAGUE +RICHARD +Brother, though I be youngest, give me leave. + +EDWARD +No, I can better play the orator. + +MONTAGUE +But I have reasons strong and forcible. + +Enter YORK + +YORK +Why, how now, sons and brother! at a strife? +What is your quarrel? how began it first? + +EDWARD +No quarrel, but a slight contention. + +YORK +About what? + +RICHARD +About that which concerns your grace and us; +The crown of England, father, which is yours. + +YORK +Mine boy? not till King Henry be dead. + +RICHARD +Your right depends not on his life or death. + +EDWARD +Now you are heir, therefore enjoy it now: +By giving the house of Lancaster leave to breathe, +It will outrun you, father, in the end. + +YORK +I took an oath that he should quietly reign. + +EDWARD +But for a kingdom any oath may be broken: +I would break a thousand oaths to reign one year. + +RICHARD +No; God forbid your grace should be forsworn. + +YORK +I shall be, if I claim by open war. + +RICHARD +I'll prove the contrary, if you'll hear me speak. + +YORK +Thou canst not, son; it is impossible. + +RICHARD +An oath is of no moment, being not took +Before a true and lawful magistrate, +That hath authority over him that swears: +Henry had none, but did usurp the place; +Then, seeing 'twas he that made you to depose, +Your oath, my lord, is vain and frivolous. +Therefore, to arms! And, father, do but think +How sweet a thing it is to wear a crown; +Within whose circuit is Elysium +And all that poets feign of bliss and joy. +Why do we finger thus? I cannot rest +Until the white rose that I wear be dyed +Even in the lukewarm blood of Henry's heart. + +YORK +Richard, enough; I will be king, or die. +Brother, thou shalt to London presently, +And whet on Warwick to this enterprise. +Thou, Richard, shalt to the Duke of Norfolk, +And tell him privily of our intent. +You Edward, shall unto my Lord Cobham, +With whom the Kentishmen will willingly rise: +In them I trust; for they are soldiers, +Witty, courteous, liberal, full of spirit. +While you are thus employ'd, what resteth more, +But that I seek occasion how to rise, +And yet the king not privy to my drift, +Nor any of the house of Lancaster? + +Enter a Messenger + +But, stay: what news? Why comest thou in such post? + +Messenger +The queen with all the northern earls and lords +Intend here to besiege you in your castle: +She is hard by with twenty thousand men; +And therefore fortify your hold, my lord. + +YORK +Ay, with my sword. What! think'st thou that we fear them? +Edward and Richard, you shall stay with me; +My brother Montague shall post to London: +Let noble Warwick, Cobham, and the rest, +Whom we have left protectors of the king, +With powerful policy strengthen themselves, +And trust not simple Henry nor his oaths. + +MONTAGUE +Brother, I go; I'll win them, fear it not: +And thus most humbly I do take my leave. + +Exit + +Enter JOHN MORTIMER and HUGH MORTIMER + +Sir John and Sir Hugh Mortimer, mine uncles, +You are come to Sandal in a happy hour; +The army of the queen mean to besiege us. + +JOHN MORTIMER +She shall not need; we'll meet her in the field. + +YORK +What, with five thousand men? + +RICHARD +Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need: +A woman's general; what should we fear? + +A march afar off + +EDWARD +I hear their drums: let's set our men in order, +And issue forth and bid them battle straight. + +YORK +Five men to twenty! though the odds be great, +I doubt not, uncle, of our victory. +Many a battle have I won in France, +When as the enemy hath been ten to one: +Why should I not now have the like success? + +Alarum. Exeunt + +SCENE III. Field of battle betwixt Sandal Castle and Wakefield. + +Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his Tutor +RUTLAND +Ah, whither shall I fly to 'scape their hands? +Ah, tutor, look where bloody Clifford comes! + +Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life. +As for the brat of this accursed duke, +Whose father slew my father, he shall die. + +Tutor +And I, my lord, will bear him company. + +CLIFFORD +Soldiers, away with him! + +Tutor +Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child, +Lest thou be hated both of God and man! + +Exit, dragged off by Soldiers + +CLIFFORD +How now! is he dead already? or is it fear +That makes him close his eyes? I'll open them. + +RUTLAND +So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch +That trembles under his devouring paws; +And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey, +And so he comes, to rend his limbs asunder. +Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, +And not with such a cruel threatening look. +Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die. +I am too mean a subject for thy wrath: +Be thou revenged on men, and let me live. + +CLIFFORD +In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood +Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter. + +RUTLAND +Then let my father's blood open it again: +He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him. + +CLIFFORD +Had thy brethren here, their lives and thine +Were not revenge sufficient for me; +No, if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves +And hung their rotten coffins up in chains, +It could not slake mine ire, nor ease my heart. +The sight of any of the house of York +Is as a fury to torment my soul; +And till I root out their accursed line +And leave not one alive, I live in hell. +Therefore-- + +Lifting his hand + +RUTLAND +O, let me pray before I take my death! +To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me! + +CLIFFORD +Such pity as my rapier's point affords. + +RUTLAND +I never did thee harm: why wilt thou slay me? + +CLIFFORD +Thy father hath. + +RUTLAND +But 'twas ere I was born. +Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me, +Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just, +He be as miserably slain as I. +Ah, let me live in prison all my days; +And when I give occasion of offence, +Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause. + +CLIFFORD +No cause! +Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. + +Stabs him + +RUTLAND +Di faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! + +Dies + +CLIFFORD +Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet! +And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade +Shall rust upon my weapon, till thy blood, +Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter YORK +YORK +The army of the queen hath got the field: +My uncles both are slain in rescuing me; +And all my followers to the eager foe +Turn back and fly, like ships before the wind +Or lambs pursued by hunger-starved wolves. +My sons, God knows what hath bechanced them: +But this I know, they have demean'd themselves +Like men born to renown by life or death. +Three times did Richard make a lane to me. +And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!' +And full as oft came Edward to my side, +With purple falchion, painted to the hilt +In blood of those that had encounter'd him: +And when the hardiest warriors did retire, +Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!' +And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb! +A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!' +With this, we charged again: but, out, alas! +We bodged again; as I have seen a swan +With bootless labour swim against the tide +And spend her strength with over-matching waves. + +A short alarum within + +Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue; +And I am faint and cannot fly their fury: +And were I strong, I would not shun their fury: +The sands are number'd that make up my life; +Here must I stay, and here my life must end. + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD, NORTHUMBERLAND, PRINCE EDWARD, and Soldiers + +Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland, +I dare your quenchless fury to more rage: +I am your butt, and I abide your shot. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet. + +CLIFFORD +Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm, +With downright payment, show'd unto my father. +Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car, +And made an evening at the noontide prick. + +YORK +My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth +A bird that will revenge upon you all: +And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven, +Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with. +Why come you not? what! multitudes, and fear? + +CLIFFORD +So cowards fight when they can fly no further; +So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons; +So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives, +Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers. + +YORK +O Clifford, but bethink thee once again, +And in thy thought o'er-run my former time; +And, if though canst for blushing, view this face, +And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice +Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this! + +CLIFFORD +I will not bandy with thee word for word, +But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes +I would prolong awhile the traitor's life. +Wrath makes him deaf: speak thou, Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much +To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart: +What valour were it, when a cur doth grin, +For one to thrust his hand between his teeth, +When he might spurn him with his foot away? +It is war's prize to take all vantages; +And ten to one is no impeach of valour. + +They lay hands on YORK, who struggles + +CLIFFORD +Ay, ay, so strives the woodcock with the gin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +So doth the cony struggle in the net. + +YORK +So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty; +So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What would your grace have done unto him now? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland, +Come, make him stand upon this molehill here, +That raught at mountains with outstretched arms, +Yet parted but the shadow with his hand. +What! was it you that would be England's king? +Was't you that revell'd in our parliament, +And made a preachment of your high descent? +Where are your mess of sons to back you now? +The wanton Edward, and the lusty George? +And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy, +Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice +Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies? +Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland? +Look, York: I stain'd this napkin with the blood +That valiant Clifford, with his rapier's point, +Made issue from the bosom of the boy; +And if thine eyes can water for his death, +I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal. +Alas poor York! but that I hate thee deadly, +I should lament thy miserable state. +I prithee, grieve, to make me merry, York. +What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails +That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death? +Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad; +And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus. +Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance. +Thou wouldst be fee'd, I see, to make me sport: +York cannot speak, unless he wear a crown. +A crown for York! and, lords, bow low to him: +Hold you his hands, whilst I do set it on. + +Putting a paper crown on his head + +Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king! +Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair, +And this is he was his adopted heir. +But how is it that great Plantagenet +Is crown'd so soon, and broke his solemn oath? +As I bethink me, you should not be king +Till our King Henry had shook hands with death. +And will you pale your head in Henry's glory, +And rob his temples of the diadem, +Now in his life, against your holy oath? +O, 'tis a fault too too unpardonable! +Off with the crown, and with the crown his head; +And, whilst we breathe, take time to do him dead. + +CLIFFORD +That is my office, for my father's sake. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Nay, stay; lets hear the orisons he makes. + +YORK +She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France, +Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth! +How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex +To triumph, like an Amazonian trull, +Upon their woes whom fortune captivates! +But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging, +Made impudent with use of evil deeds, +I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush. +To tell thee whence thou camest, of whom derived, +Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless. +Thy father bears the type of King of Naples, +Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem, +Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman. +Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult? +It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen, +Unless the adage must be verified, +That beggars mounted run their horse to death. +'Tis beauty that doth oft make women proud; +But, God he knows, thy share thereof is small: +'Tis virtue that doth make them most admired; +The contrary doth make thee wonder'd at: +'Tis government that makes them seem divine; +The want thereof makes thee abominable: +Thou art as opposite to every good +As the Antipodes are unto us, +Or as the south to the septentrion. +O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide! +How couldst thou drain the life-blood of the child, +To bid the father wipe his eyes withal, +And yet be seen to bear a woman's face? +Women are soft, mild, pitiful and flexible; +Thou stern, obdurate, flinty, rough, remorseless. +Bids't thou me rage? why, now thou hast thy wish: +Wouldst have me weep? why, now thou hast thy will: +For raging wind blows up incessant showers, +And when the rage allays, the rain begins. +These tears are my sweet Rutland's obsequies: +And every drop cries vengeance for his death, +'Gainst thee, fell Clifford, and thee, false +Frenchwoman. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Beshrew me, but his passion moves me so +That hardly can I cheque my eyes from tears. + +YORK +That face of his the hungry cannibals +Would not have touch'd, would not have stain'd with blood: +But you are more inhuman, more inexorable, +O, ten times more, than tigers of Hyrcania. +See, ruthless queen, a hapless father's tears: +This cloth thou dip'dst in blood of my sweet boy, +And I with tears do wash the blood away. +Keep thou the napkin, and go boast of this: +And if thou tell'st the heavy story right, +Upon my soul, the hearers will shed tears; +Yea even my foes will shed fast-falling tears, +And say 'Alas, it was a piteous deed!' +There, take the crown, and, with the crown, my curse; +And in thy need such comfort come to thee +As now I reap at thy too cruel hand! +Hard-hearted Clifford, take me from the world: +My soul to heaven, my blood upon your heads! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Had he been slaughter-man to all my kin, +I should not for my life but weep with him. +To see how inly sorrow gripes his soul. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, weeping-ripe, my Lord Northumberland? +Think but upon the wrong he did us all, +And that will quickly dry thy melting tears. + +CLIFFORD +Here's for my oath, here's for my father's death. + +Stabbing him + +QUEEN MARGARET +And here's to right our gentle-hearted king. + +Stabbing him + +YORK +Open Thy gate of mercy, gracious God! +My soul flies through these wounds to seek out Thee. + +Dies + +QUEEN MARGARET +Off with his head, and set it on York gates; +So York may overlook the town of York. + +Flourish. Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A plain near Mortimer's Cross in Herefordshire. + +A march. Enter EDWARD, RICHARD, and their power +EDWARD +I wonder how our princely father 'scaped, +Or whether he be 'scaped away or no +From Clifford's and Northumberland's pursuit: +Had he been ta'en, we should have heard the news; +Had he been slain, we should have heard the news; +Or had he 'scaped, methinks we should have heard +The happy tidings of his good escape. +How fares my brother? why is he so sad? + +RICHARD +I cannot joy, until I be resolved +Where our right valiant father is become. +I saw him in the battle range about; +And watch'd him how he singled Clifford forth. +Methought he bore him in the thickest troop +As doth a lion in a herd of neat; +Or as a bear, encompass'd round with dogs, +Who having pinch'd a few and made them cry, +The rest stand all aloof, and bark at him. +So fared our father with his enemies; +So fled his enemies my warlike father: +Methinks, 'tis prize enough to be his son. +See how the morning opes her golden gates, +And takes her farewell of the glorious sun! +How well resembles it the prime of youth, +Trimm'd like a younker prancing to his love! + +EDWARD +Dazzle mine eyes, or do I see three suns? + +RICHARD +Three glorious suns, each one a perfect sun; +Not separated with the racking clouds, +But sever'd in a pale clear-shining sky. +See, see! they join, embrace, and seem to kiss, +As if they vow'd some league inviolable: +Now are they but one lamp, one light, one sun. +In this the heaven figures some event. + +EDWARD +'Tis wondrous strange, the like yet never heard of. +I think it cites us, brother, to the field, +That we, the sons of brave Plantagenet, +Each one already blazing by our meeds, +Should notwithstanding join our lights together +And over-shine the earth as this the world. +Whate'er it bodes, henceforward will I bear +Upon my target three fair-shining suns. + +RICHARD +Nay, bear three daughters: by your leave I speak it, +You love the breeder better than the male. + +Enter a Messenger + +But what art thou, whose heavy looks foretell +Some dreadful story hanging on thy tongue? + +Messenger +Ah, one that was a woful looker-on +When as the noble Duke of York was slain, +Your princely father and my loving lord! + +EDWARD +O, speak no more, for I have heard too much. + +RICHARD +Say how he died, for I will hear it all. + +Messenger +Environed he was with many foes, +And stood against them, as the hope of Troy +Against the Greeks that would have enter'd Troy. +But Hercules himself must yield to odds; +And many strokes, though with a little axe, +Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak. +By many hands your father was subdued; +But only slaughter'd by the ireful arm +Of unrelenting Clifford and the queen, +Who crown'd the gracious duke in high despite, +Laugh'd in his face; and when with grief he wept, +The ruthless queen gave him to dry his cheeks +A napkin steeped in the harmless blood +Of sweet young Rutland, by rough Clifford slain: +And after many scorns, many foul taunts, +They took his head, and on the gates of York +They set the same; and there it doth remain, +The saddest spectacle that e'er I view'd. + +EDWARD +Sweet Duke of York, our prop to lean upon, +Now thou art gone, we have no staff, no stay. +O Clifford, boisterous Clifford! thou hast slain +The flower of Europe for his chivalry; +And treacherously hast thou vanquish'd him, +For hand to hand he would have vanquish'd thee. +Now my soul's palace is become a prison: +Ah, would she break from hence, that this my body +Might in the ground be closed up in rest! +For never henceforth shall I joy again, +Never, O never shall I see more joy! + +RICHARD +I cannot weep; for all my body's moisture +Scarce serves to quench my furnace-burning heart: +Nor can my tongue unload my heart's great burthen; +For selfsame wind that I should speak withal +Is kindling coals that fires all my breast, +And burns me up with flames that tears would quench. +To weep is to make less the depth of grief: +Tears then for babes; blows and revenge for me +Richard, I bear thy name; I'll venge thy death, +Or die renowned by attempting it. + +EDWARD +His name that valiant duke hath left with thee; +His dukedom and his chair with me is left. + +RICHARD +Nay, if thou be that princely eagle's bird, +Show thy descent by gazing 'gainst the sun: +For chair and dukedom, throne and kingdom say; +Either that is thine, or else thou wert not his. + +March. Enter WARWICK, MONTAGUE, and their army + +WARWICK +How now, fair lords! What fare? what news abroad? + +RICHARD +Great Lord of Warwick, if we should recount +Our baleful news, and at each word's deliverance +Stab poniards in our flesh till all were told, +The words would add more anguish than the wounds. +O valiant lord, the Duke of York is slain! + +EDWARD +O Warwick, Warwick! that Plantagenet, +Which held three dearly as his soul's redemption, +Is by the stern Lord Clifford done to death. + +WARWICK +Ten days ago I drown'd these news in tears; +And now, to add more measure to your woes, +I come to tell you things sith then befall'n. +After the bloody fray at Wakefield fought, +Where your brave father breathed his latest gasp, +Tidings, as swiftly as the posts could run, +Were brought me of your loss and his depart. +I, then in London keeper of the king, +Muster'd my soldiers, gather'd flocks of friends, +And very well appointed, as I thought, +March'd toward Saint Alban's to intercept the queen, +Bearing the king in my behalf along; +For by my scouts I was advertised +That she was coming with a full intent +To dash our late decree in parliament +Touching King Henry's oath and your succession. +Short tale to make, we at Saint Alban's met +Our battles join'd, and both sides fiercely fought: +But whether 'twas the coldness of the king, +Who look'd full gently on his warlike queen, +That robb'd my soldiers of their heated spleen; +Or whether 'twas report of her success; +Or more than common fear of Clifford's rigour, +Who thunders to his captives blood and death, +I cannot judge: but to conclude with truth, +Their weapons like to lightning came and went; +Our soldiers', like the night-owl's lazy flight, +Or like an idle thresher with a flail, +Fell gently down, as if they struck their friends. +I cheer'd them up with justice of our cause, +With promise of high pay and great rewards: +But all in vain; they had no heart to fight, +And we in them no hope to win the day; +So that we fled; the king unto the queen; +Lord George your brother, Norfolk and myself, +In haste, post-haste, are come to join with you: +For in the marches here we heard you were, +Making another head to fight again. + +EDWARD +Where is the Duke of Norfolk, gentle Warwick? +And when came George from Burgundy to England? + +WARWICK +Some six miles off the duke is with the soldiers; +And for your brother, he was lately sent +From your kind aunt, Duchess of Burgundy, +With aid of soldiers to this needful war. + +RICHARD +'Twas odds, belike, when valiant Warwick fled: +Oft have I heard his praises in pursuit, +But ne'er till now his scandal of retire. + +WARWICK +Nor now my scandal, Richard, dost thou hear; +For thou shalt know this strong right hand of mine +Can pluck the diadem from faint Henry's head, +And wring the awful sceptre from his fist, +Were he as famous and as bold in war +As he is famed for mildness, peace, and prayer. + +RICHARD +I know it well, Lord Warwick; blame me not: +'Tis love I bear thy glories makes me speak. +But in this troublous time what's to be done? +Shall we go throw away our coats of steel, +And wrap our bodies in black mourning gowns, +Numbering our Ave-Maries with our beads? +Or shall we on the helmets of our foes +Tell our devotion with revengeful arms? +If for the last, say ay, and to it, lords. + +WARWICK +Why, therefore Warwick came to seek you out; +And therefore comes my brother Montague. +Attend me, lords. The proud insulting queen, +With Clifford and the haught Northumberland, +And of their feather many more proud birds, +Have wrought the easy-melting king like wax. +He swore consent to your succession, +His oath enrolled in the parliament; +And now to London all the crew are gone, +To frustrate both his oath and what beside +May make against the house of Lancaster. +Their power, I think, is thirty thousand strong: +Now, if the help of Norfolk and myself, +With all the friends that thou, brave Earl of March, +Amongst the loving Welshmen canst procure, +Will but amount to five and twenty thousand, +Why, Via! to London will we march amain, +And once again bestride our foaming steeds, +And once again cry 'Charge upon our foes!' +But never once again turn back and fly. + +RICHARD +Ay, now methinks I hear great Warwick speak: +Ne'er may he live to see a sunshine day, +That cries 'Retire,' if Warwick bid him stay. + +EDWARD +Lord Warwick, on thy shoulder will I lean; +And when thou fail'st--as God forbid the hour!-- +Must Edward fall, which peril heaven forfend! + +WARWICK +No longer Earl of March, but Duke of York: +The next degree is England's royal throne; +For King of England shalt thou be proclaim'd +In every borough as we pass along; +And he that throws not up his cap for joy +Shall for the fault make forfeit of his head. +King Edward, valiant Richard, Montague, +Stay we no longer, dreaming of renown, +But sound the trumpets, and about our task. + +RICHARD +Then, Clifford, were thy heart as hard as steel, +As thou hast shown it flinty by thy deeds, +I come to pierce it, or to give thee mine. + +EDWARD +Then strike up drums: God and Saint George for us! + +Enter a Messenger + +WARWICK +How now! what news? + +Messenger +The Duke of Norfolk sends you word by me, +The queen is coming with a puissant host; +And craves your company for speedy counsel. + +WARWICK +Why then it sorts, brave warriors, let's away. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before York. + +Flourish. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, CLIFFORD, and NORTHUMBERLAND, with drum and trumpets +QUEEN MARGARET +Welcome, my lord, to this brave town of York. +Yonder's the head of that arch-enemy +That sought to be encompass'd with your crown: +Doth not the object cheer your heart, my lord? + +KING HENRY VI +Ay, as the rocks cheer them that fear their wreck: +To see this sight, it irks my very soul. +Withhold revenge, dear God! 'tis not my fault, +Nor wittingly have I infringed my vow. + +CLIFFORD +My gracious liege, this too much lenity +And harmful pity must be laid aside. +To whom do lions cast their gentle looks? +Not to the beast that would usurp their den. +Whose hand is that the forest bear doth lick? +Not his that spoils her young before her face. +Who 'scapes the lurking serpent's mortal sting? +Not he that sets his foot upon her back. +The smallest worm will turn being trodden on, +And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood. +Ambitious York doth level at thy crown, +Thou smiling while he knit his angry brows: +He, but a duke, would have his son a king, +And raise his issue, like a loving sire; +Thou, being a king, blest with a goodly son, +Didst yield consent to disinherit him, +Which argued thee a most unloving father. +Unreasonable creatures feed their young; +And though man's face be fearful to their eyes, +Yet, in protection of their tender ones, +Who hath not seen them, even with those wings +Which sometime they have used with fearful flight, +Make war with him that climb'd unto their nest, +Offer their own lives in their young's defence? +For shame, my liege, make them your precedent! +Were it not pity that this goodly boy +Should lose his birthright by his father's fault, +And long hereafter say unto his child, +'What my great-grandfather and his grandsire got +My careless father fondly gave away'? +Ah, what a shame were this! Look on the boy; +And let his manly face, which promiseth +Successful fortune, steel thy melting heart +To hold thine own and leave thine own with him. + +KING HENRY VI +Full well hath Clifford play'd the orator, +Inferring arguments of mighty force. +But, Clifford, tell me, didst thou never hear +That things ill-got had ever bad success? +And happy always was it for that son +Whose father for his hoarding went to hell? +I'll leave my son my virtuous deeds behind; +And would my father had left me no more! +For all the rest is held at such a rate +As brings a thousand-fold more care to keep +Than in possession and jot of pleasure. +Ah, cousin York! would thy best friends did know +How it doth grieve me that thy head is here! + +QUEEN MARGARET +My lord, cheer up your spirits: our foes are nigh, +And this soft courage makes your followers faint. +You promised knighthood to our forward son: +Unsheathe your sword, and dub him presently. +Edward, kneel down. + +KING HENRY VI +Edward Plantagenet, arise a knight; +And learn this lesson, draw thy sword in right. + +PRINCE +My gracious father, by your kingly leave, +I'll draw it as apparent to the crown, +And in that quarrel use it to the death. + +CLIFFORD +Why, that is spoken like a toward prince. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Royal commanders, be in readiness: +For with a band of thirty thousand men +Comes Warwick, backing of the Duke of York; +And in the towns, as they do march along, +Proclaims him king, and many fly to him: +Darraign your battle, for they are at hand. + +CLIFFORD +I would your highness would depart the field: +The queen hath best success when you are absent. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Ay, good my lord, and leave us to our fortune. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, that's my fortune too; therefore I'll stay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Be it with resolution then to fight. + +PRINCE EDWARD +My royal father, cheer these noble lords +And hearten those that fight in your defence: +Unsheathe your sword, good father; cry 'Saint George!' + +March. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, WARWICK, NORFOLK, MONTAGUE, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now, perjured Henry! wilt thou kneel for grace, +And set thy diadem upon my head; +Or bide the mortal fortune of the field? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Go, rate thy minions, proud insulting boy! +Becomes it thee to be thus bold in terms +Before thy sovereign and thy lawful king? + +EDWARD +I am his king, and he should bow his knee; +I was adopted heir by his consent: +Since when, his oath is broke; for, as I hear, +You, that are king, though he do wear the crown, +Have caused him, by new act of parliament, +To blot out me, and put his own son in. + +CLIFFORD +And reason too: +Who should succeed the father but the son? + +RICHARD +Are you there, butcher? O, I cannot speak! + +CLIFFORD +Ay, crook-back, here I stand to answer thee, +Or any he the proudest of thy sort. + +RICHARD +'Twas you that kill'd young Rutland, was it not? + +CLIFFORD +Ay, and old York, and yet not satisfied. + +RICHARD +For God's sake, lords, give signal to the fight. + +WARWICK +What say'st thou, Henry, wilt thou yield the crown? + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, how now, long-tongued Warwick! dare you speak? +When you and I met at Saint Alban's last, +Your legs did better service than your hands. + +WARWICK +Then 'twas my turn to fly, and now 'tis thine. + +CLIFFORD +You said so much before, and yet you fled. + +WARWICK +'Twas not your valour, Clifford, drove me thence. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +No, nor your manhood that durst make you stay. + +RICHARD +Northumberland, I hold thee reverently. +Break off the parley; for scarce I can refrain +The execution of my big-swoln heart +Upon that Clifford, that cruel child-killer. + +CLIFFORD +I slew thy father, call'st thou him a child? + +RICHARD +Ay, like a dastard and a treacherous coward, +As thou didst kill our tender brother Rutland; +But ere sunset I'll make thee curse the deed. + +KING HENRY VI +Have done with words, my lords, and hear me speak. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Defy them then, or else hold close thy lips. + +KING HENRY VI +I prithee, give no limits to my tongue: +I am a king, and privileged to speak. + +CLIFFORD +My liege, the wound that bred this meeting here +Cannot be cured by words; therefore be still. + +RICHARD +Then, executioner, unsheathe thy sword: +By him that made us all, I am resolved +that Clifford's manhood lies upon his tongue. + +EDWARD +Say, Henry, shall I have my right, or no? +A thousand men have broke their fasts to-day, +That ne'er shall dine unless thou yield the crown. + +WARWICK +If thou deny, their blood upon thy head; +For York in justice puts his armour on. + +PRINCE EDWARD +If that be right which Warwick says is right, +There is no wrong, but every thing is right. + +RICHARD +Whoever got thee, there thy mother stands; +For, well I wot, thou hast thy mother's tongue. + +QUEEN MARGARET +But thou art neither like thy sire nor dam; +But like a foul mis-shapen stigmatic, +Mark'd by the destinies to be avoided, +As venom toads, or lizards' dreadful stings. + +RICHARD +Iron of Naples hid with English gilt, +Whose father bears the title of a king,-- +As if a channel should be call'd the sea,-- +Shamest thou not, knowing whence thou art extraught, +To let thy tongue detect thy base-born heart? + +EDWARD +A wisp of straw were worth a thousand crowns, +To make this shameless callet know herself. +Helen of Greece was fairer far than thou, +Although thy husband may be Menelaus; +And ne'er was Agamemnon's brother wrong'd +By that false woman, as this king by thee. +His father revell'd in the heart of France, +And tamed the king, and made the dauphin stoop; +And had he match'd according to his state, +He might have kept that glory to this day; +But when he took a beggar to his bed, +And graced thy poor sire with his bridal-day, +Even then that sunshine brew'd a shower for him, +That wash'd his father's fortunes forth of France, +And heap'd sedition on his crown at home. +For what hath broach'd this tumult but thy pride? +Hadst thou been meek, our title still had slept; +And we, in pity of the gentle king, +Had slipp'd our claim until another age. + +GEORGE +But when we saw our sunshine made thy spring, +And that thy summer bred us no increase, +We set the axe to thy usurping root; +And though the edge hath something hit ourselves, +Yet, know thou, since we have begun to strike, +We'll never leave till we have hewn thee down, +Or bathed thy growing with our heated bloods. + +EDWARD +And, in this resolution, I defy thee; +Not willing any longer conference, +Since thou deniest the gentle king to speak. +Sound trumpets! let our bloody colours wave! +And either victory, or else a grave. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Stay, Edward. + +EDWARD +No, wrangling woman, we'll no longer stay: +These words will cost ten thousand lives this day. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A field of battle between Towton and Saxton, in +Yorkshire. + +Alarum. Excursions. Enter WARWICK + +WARWICK +Forspent with toil, as runners with a race, +I lay me down a little while to breathe; +For strokes received, and many blows repaid, +Have robb'd my strong-knit sinews of their strength, +And spite of spite needs must I rest awhile. + +Enter EDWARD, running + +EDWARD +Smile, gentle heaven! or strike, ungentle death! +For this world frowns, and Edward's sun is clouded. + +WARWICK +How now, my lord! what hap? what hope of good? + +Enter GEORGE + +GEORGE +Our hap is loss, our hope but sad despair; +Our ranks are broke, and ruin follows us: +What counsel give you? whither shall we fly? + +EDWARD +Bootless is flight, they follow us with wings; +And weak we are and cannot shun pursuit. + +Enter RICHARD + +RICHARD +Ah, Warwick, why hast thou withdrawn thyself? +Thy brother's blood the thirsty earth hath drunk, +Broach'd with the steely point of Clifford's lance; +And in the very pangs of death he cried, +Like to a dismal clangour heard from far, +'Warwick, revenge! brother, revenge my death!' +So, underneath the belly of their steeds, +That stain'd their fetlocks in his smoking blood, +The noble gentleman gave up the ghost. + +WARWICK +Then let the earth be drunken with our blood: +I'll kill my horse, because I will not fly. +Why stand we like soft-hearted women here, +Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage; +And look upon, as if the tragedy +Were play'd in jest by counterfeiting actors? +Here on my knee I vow to God above, +I'll never pause again, never stand still, +Till either death hath closed these eyes of mine +Or fortune given me measure of revenge. + +EDWARD +O Warwick, I do bend my knee with thine; +And in this vow do chain my soul to thine! +And, ere my knee rise from the earth's cold face, +I throw my hands, mine eyes, my heart to thee, +Thou setter up and plucker down of kings, +Beseeching thee, if with they will it stands +That to my foes this body must be prey, +Yet that thy brazen gates of heaven may ope, +And give sweet passage to my sinful soul! +Now, lords, take leave until we meet again, +Where'er it be, in heaven or in earth. + +RICHARD +Brother, give me thy hand; and, gentle Warwick, +Let me embrace thee in my weary arms: +I, that did never weep, now melt with woe +That winter should cut off our spring-time so. + +WARWICK +Away, away! Once more, sweet lords farewell. + +GEORGE +Yet let us all together to our troops, +And give them leave to fly that will not stay; +And call them pillars that will stand to us; +And, if we thrive, promise them such rewards +As victors wear at the Olympian games: +This may plant courage in their quailing breasts; +For yet is hope of life and victory. +Forslow no longer, make we hence amain. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Another part of the field. + +Excursions. Enter RICHARD and CLIFFORD +RICHARD +Now, Clifford, I have singled thee alone: +Suppose this arm is for the Duke of York, +And this for Rutland; both bound to revenge, +Wert thou environ'd with a brazen wall. + +CLIFFORD +Now, Richard, I am with thee here alone: +This is the hand that stabb'd thy father York; +And this the hand that slew thy brother Rutland; +And here's the heart that triumphs in their death +And cheers these hands that slew thy sire and brother +To execute the like upon thyself; +And so, have at thee! + +They fight. WARWICK comes; CLIFFORD flies + +RICHARD +Nay Warwick, single out some other chase; +For I myself will hunt this wolf to death. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Another part of the field. + +Alarum. Enter KING HENRY VI alone +KING HENRY VI +This battle fares like to the morning's war, +When dying clouds contend with growing light, +What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails, +Can neither call it perfect day nor night. +Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea +Forced by the tide to combat with the wind; +Now sways it that way, like the selfsame sea +Forced to retire by fury of the wind: +Sometime the flood prevails, and then the wind; +Now one the better, then another best; +Both tugging to be victors, breast to breast, +Yet neither conqueror nor conquered: +So is the equal of this fell war. +Here on this molehill will I sit me down. +To whom God will, there be the victory! +For Margaret my queen, and Clifford too, +Have chid me from the battle; swearing both +They prosper best of all when I am thence. +Would I were dead! if God's good will were so; +For what is in this world but grief and woe? +O God! methinks it were a happy life, +To be no better than a homely swain; +To sit upon a hill, as I do now, +To carve out dials quaintly, point by point, +Thereby to see the minutes how they run, +How many make the hour full complete; +How many hours bring about the day; +How many days will finish up the year; +How many years a mortal man may live. +When this is known, then to divide the times: +So many hours must I tend my flock; +So many hours must I take my rest; +So many hours must I contemplate; +So many hours must I sport myself; +So many days my ewes have been with young; +So many weeks ere the poor fools will ean: +So many years ere I shall shear the fleece: +So minutes, hours, days, months, and years, +Pass'd over to the end they were created, +Would bring white hairs unto a quiet grave. +Ah, what a life were this! how sweet! how lovely! +Gives not the hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade +To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, +Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy +To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? +O, yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth. +And to conclude, the shepherd's homely curds, +His cold thin drink out of his leather bottle. +His wonted sleep under a fresh tree's shade, +All which secure and sweetly he enjoys, +Is far beyond a prince's delicates, +His viands sparkling in a golden cup, +His body couched in a curious bed, +When care, mistrust, and treason waits on him. + +Alarum. Enter a Son that has killed his father, dragging in the dead body + +Son +Ill blows the wind that profits nobody. +This man, whom hand to hand I slew in fight, +May be possessed with some store of crowns; +And I, that haply take them from him now, +May yet ere night yield both my life and them +To some man else, as this dead man doth me. +Who's this? O God! it is my father's face, +Whom in this conflict I unwares have kill'd. +O heavy times, begetting such events! +From London by the king was I press'd forth; +My father, being the Earl of Warwick's man, +Came on the part of York, press'd by his master; +And I, who at his hands received my life, him +Have by my hands of life bereaved him. +Pardon me, God, I knew not what I did! +And pardon, father, for I knew not thee! +My tears shall wipe away these bloody marks; +And no more words till they have flow'd their fill. + +KING HENRY VI +O piteous spectacle! O bloody times! +Whiles lions war and battle for their dens, +Poor harmless lambs abide their enmity. +Weep, wretched man, I'll aid thee tear for tear; +And let our hearts and eyes, like civil war, +Be blind with tears, and break o'ercharged with grief. + +Enter a Father that has killed his son, bringing in the body + +Father +Thou that so stoutly hast resisted me, +Give me thy gold, if thou hast any gold: +For I have bought it with an hundred blows. +But let me see: is this our foeman's face? +Ah, no, no, no, it is mine only son! +Ah, boy, if any life be left in thee, +Throw up thine eye! see, see what showers arise, +Blown with the windy tempest of my heart, +Upon thy words, that kill mine eye and heart! +O, pity, God, this miserable age! +What stratagems, how fell, how butcherly, +Erroneous, mutinous and unnatural, +This deadly quarrel daily doth beget! +O boy, thy father gave thee life too soon, +And hath bereft thee of thy life too late! + +KING HENRY VI +Woe above woe! grief more than common grief! +O that my death would stay these ruthful deeds! +O pity, pity, gentle heaven, pity! +The red rose and the white are on his face, +The fatal colours of our striving houses: +The one his purple blood right well resembles; +The other his pale cheeks, methinks, presenteth: +Wither one rose, and let the other flourish; +If you contend, a thousand lives must wither. + +Son +How will my mother for a father's death +Take on with me and ne'er be satisfied! + +Father +How will my wife for slaughter of my son +Shed seas of tears and ne'er be satisfied! + +KING HENRY VI +How will the country for these woful chances +Misthink the king and not be satisfied! + +Son +Was ever son so rued a father's death? + +Father +Was ever father so bemoan'd his son? + +KING HENRY VI +Was ever king so grieved for subjects' woe? +Much is your sorrow; mine ten times so much. + +Son +I'll bear thee hence, where I may weep my fill. + +Exit with the body + +Father +These arms of mine shall be thy winding-sheet; +My heart, sweet boy, shall be thy sepulchre, +For from my heart thine image ne'er shall go; +My sighing breast shall be thy funeral bell; +And so obsequious will thy father be, +Even for the loss of thee, having no more, +As Priam was for all his valiant sons. +I'll bear thee hence; and let them fight that will, +For I have murdered where I should not kill. + +Exit with the body + +KING HENRY VI +Sad-hearted men, much overgone with care, +Here sits a king more woful than you are. + +Alarums: excursions. Enter QUEEN MARGARET, PRINCE EDWARD, and EXETER + +PRINCE EDWARD +Fly, father, fly! for all your friends are fled, +And Warwick rages like a chafed bull: +Away! for death doth hold us in pursuit. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Mount you, my lord; towards Berwick post amain: +Edward and Richard, like a brace of greyhounds +Having the fearful flying hare in sight, +With fiery eyes sparkling for very wrath, +And bloody steel grasp'd in their ireful hands, +Are at our backs; and therefore hence amain. + +EXETER +Away! for vengeance comes along with them: +Nay, stay not to expostulate, make speed; +Or else come after: I'll away before. + +KING HENRY VI +Nay, take me with thee, good sweet Exeter: +Not that I fear to stay, but love to go +Whither the queen intends. Forward; away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Another part of the field. + +A loud alarum. Enter CLIFFORD, wounded +CLIFFORD +Here burns my candle out; ay, here it dies, +Which, whiles it lasted, gave King Henry light. +O Lancaster, I fear thy overthrow +More than my body's parting with my soul! +My love and fear glued many friends to thee; +And, now I fall, thy tough commixture melts. +Impairing Henry, strengthening misproud York, +The common people swarm like summer flies; +And whither fly the gnats but to the sun? +And who shines now but Henry's enemies? +O Phoebus, hadst thou never given consent +That Phaethon should cheque thy fiery steeds, +Thy burning car never had scorch'd the earth! +And, Henry, hadst thou sway'd as kings should do, +Or as thy father and his father did, +Giving no ground unto the house of York, +They never then had sprung like summer flies; +I and ten thousand in this luckless realm +Had left no mourning widows for our death; +And thou this day hadst kept thy chair in peace. +For what doth cherish weeds but gentle air? +And what makes robbers bold but too much lenity? +Bootless are plaints, and cureless are my wounds; +No way to fly, nor strength to hold out flight: +The foe is merciless, and will not pity; +For at their hands I have deserved no pity. +The air hath got into my deadly wounds, +And much effuse of blood doth make me faint. +Come, York and Richard, Warwick and the rest; +I stabb'd your fathers' bosoms, split my breast. + +He faints + +Alarum and retreat. Enter EDWARD, GEORGE, RICHARD, MONTAGUE, WARWICK, and Soldiers + +EDWARD +Now breathe we, lords: good fortune bids us pause, +And smooth the frowns of war with peaceful looks. +Some troops pursue the bloody-minded queen, +That led calm Henry, though he were a king, +As doth a sail, fill'd with a fretting gust, +Command an argosy to stem the waves. +But think you, lords, that Clifford fled with them? + +WARWICK +No, 'tis impossible he should escape, +For, though before his face I speak the words +Your brother Richard mark'd him for the grave: +And wheresoe'er he is, he's surely dead. + +CLIFFORD groans, and dies + +EDWARD +Whose soul is that which takes her heavy leave? + +RICHARD +A deadly groan, like life and death's departing. + +EDWARD +See who it is: and, now the battle's ended, +If friend or foe, let him be gently used. + +RICHARD +Revoke that doom of mercy, for 'tis Clifford; +Who not contented that he lopp'd the branch +In hewing Rutland when his leaves put forth, +But set his murdering knife unto the root +From whence that tender spray did sweetly spring, +I mean our princely father, Duke of York. + +WARWICK +From off the gates of York fetch down the head, +Your father's head, which Clifford placed there; +Instead whereof let this supply the room: +Measure for measure must be answered. + +EDWARD +Bring forth that fatal screech-owl to our house, +That nothing sung but death to us and ours: +Now death shall stop his dismal threatening sound, +And his ill-boding tongue no more shall speak. + +WARWICK +I think his understanding is bereft. +Speak, Clifford, dost thou know who speaks to thee? +Dark cloudy death o'ershades his beams of life, +And he nor sees nor hears us what we say. + +RICHARD +O, would he did! and so perhaps he doth: +'Tis but his policy to counterfeit, +Because he would avoid such bitter taunts +Which in the time of death he gave our father. + +GEORGE +If so thou think'st, vex him with eager words. + +RICHARD +Clifford, ask mercy and obtain no grace. + +EDWARD +Clifford, repent in bootless penitence. + +WARWICK +Clifford, devise excuses for thy faults. + +GEORGE +While we devise fell tortures for thy faults. + +RICHARD +Thou didst love York, and I am son to York. + +EDWARD +Thou pitied'st Rutland; I will pity thee. + +GEORGE +Where's Captain Margaret, to fence you now? + +WARWICK +They mock thee, Clifford: swear as thou wast wont. + +RICHARD +What, not an oath? nay, then the world goes hard +When Clifford cannot spare his friends an oath. +I know by that he's dead; and, by my soul, +If this right hand would buy two hour's life, +That I in all despite might rail at him, +This hand should chop it off, and with the +issuing blood +Stifle the villain whose unstanched thirst +York and young Rutland could not satisfy. + +WARWICK +Ay, but he's dead: off with the traitor's head, +And rear it in the place your father's stands. +And now to London with triumphant march, +There to be crowned England's royal king: +From whence shall Warwick cut the sea to France, +And ask the Lady Bona for thy queen: +So shalt thou sinew both these lands together; +And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread +The scatter'd foe that hopes to rise again; +For though they cannot greatly sting to hurt, +Yet look to have them buzz to offend thine ears. +First will I see the coronation; +And then to Brittany I'll cross the sea, +To effect this marriage, so it please my lord. + +EDWARD +Even as thou wilt, sweet Warwick, let it be; +For in thy shoulder do I build my seat, +And never will I undertake the thing +Wherein thy counsel and consent is wanting. +Richard, I will create thee Duke of Gloucester, +And George, of Clarence: Warwick, as ourself, +Shall do and undo as him pleaseth best. + +RICHARD +Let me be Duke of Clarence, George of Gloucester; +For Gloucester's dukedom is too ominous. + +WARWICK +Tut, that's a foolish observation: +Richard, be Duke of Gloucester. Now to London, +To see these honours in possession. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A forest in the north of England. + +Enter two Keepers, with cross-bows in their hands +First Keeper +Under this thick-grown brake we'll shroud ourselves; +For through this laund anon the deer will come; +And in this covert will we make our stand, +Culling the principal of all the deer. + +Second Keeper +I'll stay above the hill, so both may shoot. + +First Keeper +That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow +Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. +Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: +And, for the time shall not seem tedious, +I'll tell thee what befell me on a day +In this self-place where now we mean to stand. + +Second Keeper +Here comes a man; let's stay till he be past. + +Enter KING HENRY VI, disguised, with a prayerbook + +KING HENRY VI +From Scotland am I stol'n, even of pure love, +To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. +No, Harry, Harry, 'tis no land of thine; +Thy place is fill'd, thy sceptre wrung from thee, +Thy balm wash'd off wherewith thou wast anointed: +No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, +No humble suitors press to speak for right, +No, not a man comes for redress of thee; +For how can I help them, and not myself? + +First Keeper +Ay, here's a deer whose skin's a keeper's fee: +This is the quondam king; let's seize upon him. + +KING HENRY VI +Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, +For wise men say it is the wisest course. + +Second Keeper +Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him. + +First Keeper +Forbear awhile; we'll hear a little more. + +KING HENRY VI +My queen and son are gone to France for aid; +And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick +Is thither gone, to crave the French king's sister +To wife for Edward: if this news be true, +Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; +For Warwick is a subtle orator, +And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. +By this account then Margaret may win him; +For she's a woman to be pitied much: +Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; +Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; +The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; +And Nero will be tainted with remorse, +To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. +Ay, but she's come to beg, Warwick to give; +She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, +He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. +She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; +He smiles, and says his Edward is install'd; +That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; +Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, +Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, +And in conclusion wins the king from her, +With promise of his sister, and what else, +To strengthen and support King Edward's place. +O Margaret, thus 'twill be; and thou, poor soul, +Art then forsaken, as thou went'st forlorn! + +Second Keeper +Say, what art thou that talk'st of kings and queens? + +KING HENRY VI +More than I seem, and less than I was born to: +A man at least, for less I should not be; +And men may talk of kings, and why not I? + +Second Keeper +Ay, but thou talk'st as if thou wert a king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, so I am, in mind; and that's enough. + +Second Keeper +But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown? + +KING HENRY VI +My crown is in my heart, not on my head; +Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, +Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: +A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy. + +Second Keeper +Well, if you be a king crown'd with content, +Your crown content and you must be contented +To go along with us; for as we think, +You are the king King Edward hath deposed; +And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance +Will apprehend you as his enemy. + +KING HENRY VI +But did you never swear, and break an oath? + +Second Keeper +No, never such an oath; nor will not now. + +KING HENRY VI +Where did you dwell when I was King of England? + +Second Keeper +Here in this country, where we now remain. + +KING HENRY VI +I was anointed king at nine months old; +My father and my grandfather were kings, +And you were sworn true subjects unto me: +And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths? + +First Keeper +No; +For we were subjects but while you were king. + +KING HENRY VI +Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? +Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! +Look, as I blow this feather from my face, +And as the air blows it to me again, +Obeying with my wind when I do blow, +And yielding to another when it blows, +Commanded always by the greater gust; +Such is the lightness of you common men. +But do not break your oaths; for of that sin +My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. +Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; +And be you kings, command, and I'll obey. + +First Keeper +We are true subjects to the king, King Edward. + +KING HENRY VI +So would you be again to Henry, +If he were seated as King Edward is. + +First Keeper +We charge you, in God's name, and the king's, +To go with us unto the officers. + +KING HENRY VI +In God's name, lead; your king's name be obey'd: +And what God will, that let your king perform; +And what he will, I humbly yield unto. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. London. The palace. + +Enter KING EDWARD IV, GLOUCESTER, CLARENCE, and LADY GREY +KING EDWARD IV +Brother of Gloucester, at Saint Alban's field +This lady's husband, Sir Richard Grey, was slain, +His lands then seized on by the conqueror: +Her suit is now to repossess those lands; +Which we in justice cannot well deny, +Because in quarrel of the house of York +The worthy gentleman did lose his life. + +GLOUCESTER +Your highness shall do well to grant her suit; +It were dishonour to deny it her. + +KING EDWARD IV +It were no less; but yet I'll make a pause. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Yea, is it so? +I see the lady hath a thing to grant, +Before the king will grant her humble suit. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He knows the game: how true +he keeps the wind! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Silence! + +KING EDWARD IV +Widow, we will consider of your suit; +And come some other time to know our mind. + +LADY GREY +Right gracious lord, I cannot brook delay: +May it please your highness to resolve me now; +And what your pleasure is, shall satisfy me. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, widow? then I'll warrant +you all your lands, +An if what pleases him shall pleasure you. +Fight closer, or, good faith, you'll catch a blow. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I fear her not, unless she +chance to fall. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] God forbid that! for he'll +take vantages. + +KING EDWARD IV +How many children hast thou, widow? tell me. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] I think he means to beg a +child of her. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Nay, whip me then: he'll rather +give her two. + +LADY GREY +Three, my most gracious lord. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] You shall have four, if you'll +be ruled by him. + +KING EDWARD IV +'Twere pity they should lose their father's lands. + +LADY GREY +Be pitiful, dread lord, and grant it then. + +KING EDWARD IV +Lords, give us leave: I'll try this widow's wit. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] Ay, good leave have you; for +you will have leave, +Till youth take leave and leave you to the crutch. + +GLOUCESTER and CLARENCE retire + +KING EDWARD IV +Now tell me, madam, do you love your children? + +LADY GREY +Ay, full as dearly as I love myself. + +KING EDWARD IV +And would you not do much to do them good? + +LADY GREY +To do them good, I would sustain some harm. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then get your husband's lands, to do them good. + +LADY GREY +Therefore I came unto your majesty. + +KING EDWARD IV +I'll tell you how these lands are to be got. + +LADY GREY +So shall you bind me to your highness' service. + +KING EDWARD IV +What service wilt thou do me, if I give them? + +LADY GREY +What you command, that rests in me to do. + +KING EDWARD IV +But you will take exceptions to my boon. + +LADY GREY +No, gracious lord, except I cannot do it. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but thou canst do what I mean to ask. + +LADY GREY +Why, then I will do what your grace commands. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] He plies her hard; and much rain +wears the marble. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] As red as fire! nay, then +her wax must melt. + +LADY GREY +Why stops my lord, shall I not hear my task? + +KING EDWARD IV +An easy task; 'tis but to love a king. + +LADY GREY +That's soon perform'd, because I am a subject. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then, thy husband's lands I freely give thee. + +LADY GREY +I take my leave with many thousand thanks. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The match is made; she seals it +with a curtsy. + +KING EDWARD IV +But stay thee, 'tis the fruits of love I mean. + +LADY GREY +The fruits of love I mean, my loving liege. + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, but, I fear me, in another sense. +What love, think'st thou, I sue so much to get? + +LADY GREY +My love till death, my humble thanks, my prayers; +That love which virtue begs and virtue grants. + +KING EDWARD IV +No, by my troth, I did not mean such love. + +LADY GREY +Why, then you mean not as I thought you did. + +KING EDWARD IV +But now you partly may perceive my mind. + +LADY GREY +My mind will never grant what I perceive +Your highness aims at, if I aim aright. + +KING EDWARD IV +To tell thee plain, I aim to lie with thee. + +LADY GREY +To tell you plain, I had rather lie in prison. + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, then thou shalt not have thy husband's lands. + +LADY GREY +Why, then mine honesty shall be my dower; +For by that loss I will not purchase them. + +KING EDWARD IV +Therein thou wrong'st thy children mightily. + +LADY GREY +Herein your highness wrongs both them and me. +But, mighty lord, this merry inclination +Accords not with the sadness of my suit: +Please you dismiss me either with 'ay' or 'no.' + +KING EDWARD IV +Ay, if thou wilt say 'ay' to my request; +No if thou dost say 'no' to my demand. + +LADY GREY +Then, no, my lord. My suit is at an end. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The widow likes him not, she +knits her brows. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] He is the bluntest wooer in +Christendom. + +KING EDWARD IV +[Aside] Her looks do argue her replete with modesty; +Her words do show her wit incomparable; +All her perfections challenge sovereignty: +One way or other, she is for a king; +And she shall be my love, or else my queen.-- +Say that King Edward take thee for his queen? + +LADY GREY +'Tis better said than done, my gracious lord: +I am a subject fit to jest withal, +But far unfit to be a sovereign. + +KING EDWARD IV +Sweet widow, by my state I swear to thee +I speak no more than what my soul intends; +And that is, to enjoy thee for my love. + +LADY GREY +And that is more than I will yield unto: +I know I am too mean to be your queen, +And yet too good to be your concubine. + +KING EDWARD IV +You cavil, widow: I did mean, my queen. + +LADY GREY +'Twill grieve your grace my sons should call you father. + +KING EDWARD IV +No more than when my daughters call thee mother. +Thou art a widow, and thou hast some children; +And, by God's mother, I, being but a bachelor, +Have other some: why, 'tis a happy thing +To be the father unto many sons. +Answer no more, for thou shalt be my queen. + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside to CLARENCE] The ghostly father now hath done +his shrift. + +CLARENCE +[Aside to GLOUCESTER] When he was made a shriver, +'twas for shift. + +KING EDWARD IV +Brothers, you muse what chat we two have had. + +GLOUCESTER +The widow likes it not, for she looks very sad. + +KING EDWARD IV +You'll think it strange if I should marry her. + +CLARENCE +To whom, my lord? + +KING EDWARD IV +Why, Clarence, to myself. + +GLOUCESTER +That would be ten days' wonder at the least. + +CLARENCE +That's a day longer than a wonder lasts. + +GLOUCESTER +By so much is the wonder in extremes. + +KING EDWARD IV +Well, jest on, brothers: I can tell you both +Her suit is granted for her husband's lands. + +Enter a Nobleman + +Nobleman +My gracious lord, Henry your foe is taken, +And brought your prisoner to your palace gate. + +KING EDWARD IV +See that he be convey'd unto the Tower: +And go we, brothers, to the man that took him, +To question of his apprehension. +Widow, go you along. Lords, use her honourably. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, Edward will use women honourably. +Would he were wasted, marrow, bones and all, +That from his loins no hopeful branch may spring, +To cross me from the golden time I look for! +And yet, between my soul's desire and me-- +The lustful Edward's title buried-- +Is Clarence, Henry, and his son young Edward, +And all the unlook'd for issue of their bodies, +To take their rooms, ere I can place myself: +A cold premeditation for my purpose! +Why, then, I do but dream on sovereignty; +Like one that stands upon a promontory, +And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, +Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, +And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, +Saying, he'll lade it dry to have his way: +So do I wish the crown, being so far off; +And so I chide the means that keeps me from it; +And so I say, I'll cut the causes off, +Flattering me with impossibilities. +My eye's too quick, my heart o'erweens too much, +Unless my hand and strength could equal them. +Well, say there is no kingdom then for Richard; +What other pleasure can the world afford? +I'll make my heaven in a lady's lap, +And deck my body in gay ornaments, +And witch sweet ladies with my words and looks. +O miserable thought! and more unlikely +Than to accomplish twenty golden crowns! +Why, love forswore me in my mother's womb: +And, for I should not deal in her soft laws, +She did corrupt frail nature with some bribe, +To shrink mine arm up like a wither'd shrub; +To make an envious mountain on my back, +Where sits deformity to mock my body; +To shape my legs of an unequal size; +To disproportion me in every part, +Like to a chaos, or an unlick'd bear-whelp +That carries no impression like the dam. +And am I then a man to be beloved? +O monstrous fault, to harbour such a thought! +Then, since this earth affords no joy to me, +But to command, to cheque, to o'erbear such +As are of better person than myself, +I'll make my heaven to dream upon the crown, +And, whiles I live, to account this world but hell, +Until my mis-shaped trunk that bears this head +Be round impaled with a glorious crown. +And yet I know not how to get the crown, +For many lives stand between me and home: +And I,--like one lost in a thorny wood, +That rends the thorns and is rent with the thorns, +Seeking a way and straying from the way; +Not knowing how to find the open air, +But toiling desperately to find it out,-- +Torment myself to catch the English crown: +And from that torment I will free myself, +Or hew my way out with a bloody axe. +Why, I can smile, and murder whiles I smile, +And cry 'Content' to that which grieves my heart, +And wet my cheeks with artificial tears, +And frame my face to all occasions. +I'll drown more sailors than the mermaid shall; +I'll slay more gazers than the basilisk; +I'll play the orator as well as Nestor, +Deceive more slily than Ulysses could, +And, like a Sinon, take another Troy. +I can add colours to the chameleon, +Change shapes with Proteus for advantages, +And set the murderous Machiavel to school. +Can I do this, and cannot get a crown? +Tut, were it farther off, I'll pluck it down. + +Exit + +The Life of King Henry the Eighth +Shakespeare homepage | Henry VIII | Entire play + +ACT I +PROLOGUE +I come no more to make you laugh: things now, +That bear a weighty and a serious brow, +Sad, high, and working, full of state and woe, +Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow, +We now present. Those that can pity, here +May, if they think it well, let fall a tear; +The subject will deserve it. Such as give +Their money out of hope they may believe, +May here find truth too. Those that come to see +Only a show or two, and so agree +The play may pass, if they be still and willing, +I'll undertake may see away their shilling +Richly in two short hours. Only they +That come to hear a merry bawdy play, +A noise of targets, or to see a fellow +In a long motley coat guarded with yellow, +Will be deceived; for, gentle hearers, know, +To rank our chosen truth with such a show +As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting +Our own brains, and the opinion that we bring, +To make that only true we now intend, +Will leave us never an understanding friend. +Therefore, for goodness' sake, and as you are known +The first and happiest hearers of the town, +Be sad, as we would make ye: think ye see +The very persons of our noble story +As they were living; think you see them great, +And follow'd with the general throng and sweat +Of thousand friends; then in a moment, see +How soon this mightiness meets misery: +And, if you can be merry then, I'll say +A man may weep upon his wedding-day. + +SCENE I. London. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter NORFOLK at one door; at the other, BUCKINGHAM and ABERGAVENNY +BUCKINGHAM +Good morrow, and well met. How have ye done +Since last we saw in France? + +NORFOLK +I thank your grace, +Healthful; and ever since a fresh admirer +Of what I saw there. + +BUCKINGHAM +An untimely ague +Stay'd me a prisoner in my chamber when +Those suns of glory, those two lights of men, +Met in the vale of Andren. + +NORFOLK +'Twixt Guynes and Arde: +I was then present, saw them salute on horseback; +Beheld them, when they lighted, how they clung +In their embracement, as they grew together; +Which had they, what four throned ones could have weigh'd +Such a compounded one? + +BUCKINGHAM +All the whole time +I was my chamber's prisoner. + +NORFOLK +Then you lost +The view of earthly glory: men might say, +Till this time pomp was single, but now married +To one above itself. Each following day +Became the next day's master, till the last +Made former wonders its. To-day the French, +All clinquant, all in gold, like heathen gods, +Shone down the English; and, to-morrow, they +Made Britain India: every man that stood +Show'd like a mine. Their dwarfish pages were +As cherubins, all guilt: the madams too, +Not used to toil, did almost sweat to bear +The pride upon them, that their very labour +Was to them as a painting: now this masque +Was cried incomparable; and the ensuing night +Made it a fool and beggar. The two kings, +Equal in lustre, were now best, now worst, +As presence did present them; him in eye, +Still him in praise: and, being present both +'Twas said they saw but one; and no discerner +Durst wag his tongue in censure. When these suns-- +For so they phrase 'em--by their heralds challenged +The noble spirits to arms, they did perform +Beyond thought's compass; that former fabulous story, +Being now seen possible enough, got credit, +That Bevis was believed. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, you go far. + +NORFOLK +As I belong to worship and affect +In honour honesty, the tract of every thing +Would by a good discourser lose some life, +Which action's self was tongue to. All was royal; +To the disposing of it nought rebell'd. +Order gave each thing view; the office did +Distinctly his full function. + +BUCKINGHAM +Who did guide, +I mean, who set the body and the limbs +Of this great sport together, as you guess? + +NORFOLK +One, certes, that promises no element +In such a business. + +BUCKINGHAM +I pray you, who, my lord? + +NORFOLK +All this was order'd by the good discretion +Of the right reverend Cardinal of York. + +BUCKINGHAM +The devil speed him! no man's pie is freed +From his ambitious finger. What had he +To do in these fierce vanities? I wonder +That such a keech can with his very bulk +Take up the rays o' the beneficial sun +And keep it from the earth. + +NORFOLK +Surely, sir, +There's in him stuff that puts him to these ends; +For, being not propp'd by ancestry, whose grace +Chalks successors their way, nor call'd upon +For high feats done to the crown; neither allied +For eminent assistants; but, spider-like, +Out of his self-drawing web, he gives us note, +The force of his own merit makes his way +A gift that heaven gives for him, which buys +A place next to the king. + +ABERGAVENNY +I cannot tell +What heaven hath given him,--let some graver eye +Pierce into that; but I can see his pride +Peep through each part of him: whence has he that, +If not from hell? the devil is a niggard, +Or has given all before, and he begins +A new hell in himself. + +BUCKINGHAM +Why the devil, +Upon this French going out, took he upon him, +Without the privity o' the king, to appoint +Who should attend on him? He makes up the file +Of all the gentry; for the most part such +To whom as great a charge as little honour +He meant to lay upon: and his own letter, +The honourable board of council out, +Must fetch him in the papers. + +ABERGAVENNY +I do know +Kinsmen of mine, three at the least, that have +By this so sickened their estates, that never +They shall abound as formerly. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, many +Have broke their backs with laying manors on 'em +For this great journey. What did this vanity +But minister communication of +A most poor issue? + +NORFOLK +Grievingly I think, +The peace between the French and us not values +The cost that did conclude it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Every man, +After the hideous storm that follow'd, was +A thing inspired; and, not consulting, broke +Into a general prophecy; That this tempest, +Dashing the garment of this peace, aboded +The sudden breach on't. + +NORFOLK +Which is budded out; +For France hath flaw'd the league, and hath attach'd +Our merchants' goods at Bourdeaux. + +ABERGAVENNY +Is it therefore +The ambassador is silenced? + +NORFOLK +Marry, is't. + +ABERGAVENNY +A proper title of a peace; and purchased +At a superfluous rate! + +BUCKINGHAM +Why, all this business +Our reverend cardinal carried. + +NORFOLK +Like it your grace, +The state takes notice of the private difference +Betwixt you and the cardinal. I advise you-- +And take it from a heart that wishes towards you +Honour and plenteous safety--that you read +The cardinal's malice and his potency +Together; to consider further that +What his high hatred would effect wants not +A minister in his power. You know his nature, +That he's revengeful, and I know his sword +Hath a sharp edge: it's long and, 't may be said, +It reaches far, and where 'twill not extend, +Thither he darts it. Bosom up my counsel, +You'll find it wholesome. Lo, where comes that rock +That I advise your shunning. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, the purse borne before him, certain of the Guard, and two Secretaries with papers. CARDINAL WOLSEY in his passage fixeth his eye on BUCKINGHAM, and BUCKINGHAM on him, both full of disdain + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The Duke of Buckingham's surveyor, ha? +Where's his examination? + +First Secretary +Here, so please you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he in person ready? + +First Secretary +Ay, please your grace. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Well, we shall then know more; and Buckingham +Shall lessen this big look. + +Exeunt CARDINAL WOLSEY and his Train + +BUCKINGHAM +This butcher's cur is venom-mouth'd, and I +Have not the power to muzzle him; therefore best +Not wake him in his slumber. A beggar's book +Outworths a noble's blood. + +NORFOLK +What, are you chafed? +Ask God for temperance; that's the appliance only +Which your disease requires. + +BUCKINGHAM +I read in's looks +Matter against me; and his eye reviled +Me, as his abject object: at this instant +He bores me with some trick: he's gone to the king; +I'll follow and outstare him. + +NORFOLK +Stay, my lord, +And let your reason with your choler question +What 'tis you go about: to climb steep hills +Requires slow pace at first: anger is like +A full-hot horse, who being allow'd his way, +Self-mettle tires him. Not a man in England +Can advise me like you: be to yourself +As you would to your friend. + +BUCKINGHAM +I'll to the king; +And from a mouth of honour quite cry down +This Ipswich fellow's insolence; or proclaim +There's difference in no persons. + +NORFOLK +Be advised; +Heat not a furnace for your foe so hot +That it do singe yourself: we may outrun, +By violent swiftness, that which we run at, +And lose by over-running. Know you not, +The fire that mounts the liquor til run o'er, +In seeming to augment it wastes it? Be advised: +I say again, there is no English soul +More stronger to direct you than yourself, +If with the sap of reason you would quench, +Or but allay, the fire of passion. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir, +I am thankful to you; and I'll go along +By your prescription: but this top-proud fellow, +Whom from the flow of gall I name not but +From sincere motions, by intelligence, +And proofs as clear as founts in July when +We see each grain of gravel, I do know +To be corrupt and treasonous. + +NORFOLK +Say not 'treasonous.' + +BUCKINGHAM +To the king I'll say't; and make my vouch as strong +As shore of rock. Attend. This holy fox, +Or wolf, or both,--for he is equal ravenous +As he is subtle, and as prone to mischief +As able to perform't; his mind and place +Infecting one another, yea, reciprocally-- +Only to show his pomp as well in France +As here at home, suggests the king our master +To this last costly treaty, the interview, +That swallow'd so much treasure, and like a glass +Did break i' the rinsing. + +NORFOLK +Faith, and so it did. + +BUCKINGHAM +Pray, give me favour, sir. This cunning cardinal +The articles o' the combination drew +As himself pleased; and they were ratified +As he cried 'Thus let be': to as much end +As give a crutch to the dead: but our count-cardinal +Has done this, and 'tis well; for worthy Wolsey, +Who cannot err, he did it. Now this follows,-- +Which, as I take it, is a kind of puppy +To the old dam, treason,--Charles the emperor, +Under pretence to see the queen his aunt-- +For 'twas indeed his colour, but he came +To whisper Wolsey,--here makes visitation: +His fears were, that the interview betwixt +England and France might, through their amity, +Breed him some prejudice; for from this league +Peep'd harms that menaced him: he privily +Deals with our cardinal; and, as I trow,-- +Which I do well; for I am sure the emperor +Paid ere he promised; whereby his suit was granted +Ere it was ask'd; but when the way was made, +And paved with gold, the emperor thus desired, +That he would please to alter the king's course, +And break the foresaid peace. Let the king know, +As soon he shall by me, that thus the cardinal +Does buy and sell his honour as he pleases, +And for his own advantage. + +NORFOLK +I am sorry +To hear this of him; and could wish he were +Something mistaken in't. + +BUCKINGHAM +No, not a syllable: +I do pronounce him in that very shape +He shall appear in proof. + +Enter BRANDON, a Sergeant-at-arms before him, and two or three of the Guard + +BRANDON +Your office, sergeant; execute it. + +Sergeant +Sir, +My lord the Duke of Buckingham, and Earl +Of Hereford, Stafford, and Northampton, I +Arrest thee of high treason, in the name +Of our most sovereign king. + +BUCKINGHAM +Lo, you, my lord, +The net has fall'n upon me! I shall perish +Under device and practise. + +BRANDON +I am sorry +To see you ta'en from liberty, to look on +The business present: 'tis his highness' pleasure +You shall to the Tower. + +BUCKINGHAM +It will help me nothing +To plead mine innocence; for that dye is on me +Which makes my whitest part black. The will of heaven +Be done in this and all things! I obey. +O my Lord Abergavenny, fare you well! + +BRANDON +Nay, he must bear you company. The king + +To ABERGAVENNY + +Is pleased you shall to the Tower, till you know +How he determines further. + +ABERGAVENNY +As the duke said, +The will of heaven be done, and the king's pleasure +By me obey'd! + +BRANDON +Here is a warrant from +The king to attach Lord Montacute; and the bodies +Of the duke's confessor, John de la Car, +One Gilbert Peck, his chancellor-- + +BUCKINGHAM +So, so; +These are the limbs o' the plot: no more, I hope. + +BRANDON +A monk o' the Chartreux. + +BUCKINGHAM +O, Nicholas Hopkins? + +BRANDON +He. + +BUCKINGHAM +My surveyor is false; the o'er-great cardinal +Hath show'd him gold; my life is spann'd already: +I am the shadow of poor Buckingham, +Whose figure even this instant cloud puts on, +By darkening my clear sun. My lord, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The council-chamber. + +Cornets. Enter KING HENRY VIII, leaning on CARDINAL WOLSEY's shoulder, the Nobles, and LOVELL; CARDINAL WOLSEY places himself under KING HENRY VIII's feet on his right side +KING HENRY VIII +My life itself, and the best heart of it, +Thanks you for this great care: I stood i' the level +Of a full-charged confederacy, and give thanks +To you that choked it. Let be call'd before us +That gentleman of Buckingham's; in person +I'll hear him his confessions justify; +And point by point the treasons of his master +He shall again relate. + +A noise within, crying 'Room for the Queen!' Enter QUEEN KATHARINE, ushered by NORFOLK, and SUFFOLK: she kneels. KING HENRY VIII riseth from his state, takes her up, kisses and placeth her by him + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Nay, we must longer kneel: I am a suitor. + +KING HENRY VIII +Arise, and take place by us: half your suit +Never name to us; you have half our power: +The other moiety, ere you ask, is given; +Repeat your will and take it. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Thank your majesty. +That you would love yourself, and in that love +Not unconsider'd leave your honour, nor +The dignity of your office, is the point +Of my petition. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lady mine, proceed. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am solicited, not by a few, +And those of true condition, that your subjects +Are in great grievance: there have been commissions +Sent down among 'em, which hath flaw'd the heart +Of all their loyalties: wherein, although, +My good lord cardinal, they vent reproaches +Most bitterly on you, as putter on +Of these exactions, yet the king our master-- +Whose honour heaven shield from soil!--even he +escapes not +Language unmannerly, yea, such which breaks +The sides of loyalty, and almost appears +In loud rebellion. + +NORFOLK +Not almost appears, +It doth appear; for, upon these taxations, +The clothiers all, not able to maintain +The many to them longing, have put off +The spinsters, carders, fullers, weavers, who, +Unfit for other life, compell'd by hunger +And lack of other means, in desperate manner +Daring the event to the teeth, are all in uproar, +And danger serves among then! + +KING HENRY VIII +Taxation! +Wherein? and what taxation? My lord cardinal, +You that are blamed for it alike with us, +Know you of this taxation? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please you, sir, +I know but of a single part, in aught +Pertains to the state; and front but in that file +Where others tell steps with me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +No, my lord, +You know no more than others; but you frame +Things that are known alike; which are not wholesome +To those which would not know them, and yet must +Perforce be their acquaintance. These exactions, +Whereof my sovereign would have note, they are +Most pestilent to the bearing; and, to bear 'em, +The back is sacrifice to the load. They say +They are devised by you; or else you suffer +Too hard an exclamation. + +KING HENRY VIII +Still exaction! +The nature of it? in what kind, let's know, +Is this exaction? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am much too venturous +In tempting of your patience; but am bolden'd +Under your promised pardon. The subjects' grief +Comes through commissions, which compel from each +The sixth part of his substance, to be levied +Without delay; and the pretence for this +Is named, your wars in France: this makes bold mouths: +Tongues spit their duties out, and cold hearts freeze +Allegiance in them; their curses now +Live where their prayers did: and it's come to pass, +This tractable obedience is a slave +To each incensed will. I would your highness +Would give it quick consideration, for +There is no primer business. + +KING HENRY VIII +By my life, +This is against our pleasure. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And for me, +I have no further gone in this than by +A single voice; and that not pass'd me but +By learned approbation of the judges. If I am +Traduced by ignorant tongues, which neither know +My faculties nor person, yet will be +The chronicles of my doing, let me say +'Tis but the fate of place, and the rough brake +That virtue must go through. We must not stint +Our necessary actions, in the fear +To cope malicious censurers; which ever, +As ravenous fishes, do a vessel follow +That is new-trimm'd, but benefit no further +Than vainly longing. What we oft do best, +By sick interpreters, once weak ones, is +Not ours, or not allow'd; what worst, as oft, +Hitting a grosser quality, is cried up +For our best act. If we shall stand still, +In fear our motion will be mock'd or carp'd at, +We should take root here where we sit, or sit +State-statues only. + +KING HENRY VIII +Things done well, +And with a care, exempt themselves from fear; +Things done without example, in their issue +Are to be fear'd. Have you a precedent +Of this commission? I believe, not any. +We must not rend our subjects from our laws, +And stick them in our will. Sixth part of each? +A trembling contribution! Why, we take +From every tree lop, bark, and part o' the timber; +And, though we leave it with a root, thus hack'd, +The air will drink the sap. To every county +Where this is question'd send our letters, with +Free pardon to each man that has denied +The force of this commission: pray, look to't; +I put it to your care. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +A word with you. + +To the Secretary + +Let there be letters writ to every shire, +Of the king's grace and pardon. The grieved commons +Hardly conceive of me; let it be noised +That through our intercession this revokement +And pardon comes: I shall anon advise you +Further in the proceeding. + +Exit Secretary + +Enter Surveyor + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I am sorry that the Duke of Buckingham +Is run in your displeasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +It grieves many: +The gentleman is learn'd, and a most rare speaker; +To nature none more bound; his training such, +That he may furnish and instruct great teachers, +And never seek for aid out of himself. Yet see, +When these so noble benefits shall prove +Not well disposed, the mind growing once corrupt, +They turn to vicious forms, ten times more ugly +Than ever they were fair. This man so complete, +Who was enroll'd 'mongst wonders, and when we, +Almost with ravish'd listening, could not find +His hour of speech a minute; he, my lady, +Hath into monstrous habits put the graces +That once were his, and is become as black +As if besmear'd in hell. Sit by us; you shall hear-- +This was his gentleman in trust--of him +Things to strike honour sad. Bid him recount +The fore-recited practises; whereof +We cannot feel too little, hear too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Stand forth, and with bold spirit relate what you, +Most like a careful subject, have collected +Out of the Duke of Buckingham. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak freely. + +Surveyor +First, it was usual with him, every day +It would infect his speech, that if the king +Should without issue die, he'll carry it so +To make the sceptre his: these very words +I've heard him utter to his son-in-law, +Lord Abergavenny; to whom by oath he menaced +Revenge upon the cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Please your highness, note +This dangerous conception in this point. +Not friended by by his wish, to your high person +His will is most malignant; and it stretches +Beyond you, to your friends. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My learn'd lord cardinal, +Deliver all with charity. + +KING HENRY VIII +Speak on: +How grounded he his title to the crown, +Upon our fail? to this point hast thou heard him +At any time speak aught? + +Surveyor +He was brought to this +By a vain prophecy of Nicholas Hopkins. + +KING HENRY VIII +What was that Hopkins? + +Surveyor +Sir, a Chartreux friar, +His confessor, who fed him every minute +With words of sovereignty. + +KING HENRY VIII +How know'st thou this? + +Surveyor +Not long before your highness sped to France, +The duke being at the Rose, within the parish +Saint Lawrence Poultney, did of me demand +What was the speech among the Londoners +Concerning the French journey: I replied, +Men fear'd the French would prove perfidious, +To the king's danger. Presently the duke +Said, 'twas the fear, indeed; and that he doubted +'Twould prove the verity of certain words +Spoke by a holy monk; 'that oft,' says he, +'Hath sent to me, wishing me to permit +John de la Car, my chaplain, a choice hour +To hear from him a matter of some moment: +Whom after under the confession's seal +He solemnly had sworn, that what he spoke +My chaplain to no creature living, but +To me, should utter, with demure confidence +This pausingly ensued: neither the king nor's heirs, +Tell you the duke, shall prosper: bid him strive +To gain the love o' the commonalty: the duke +Shall govern England.' + +QUEEN KATHARINE +If I know you well, +You were the duke's surveyor, and lost your office +On the complaint o' the tenants: take good heed +You charge not in your spleen a noble person +And spoil your nobler soul: I say, take heed; +Yes, heartily beseech you. + +KING HENRY VIII +Let him on. +Go forward. + +Surveyor +On my soul, I'll speak but truth. +I told my lord the duke, by the devil's illusions +The monk might be deceived; and that 'twas dangerous for him +To ruminate on this so far, until +It forged him some design, which, being believed, +It was much like to do: he answer'd, 'Tush, +It can do me no damage;' adding further, +That, had the king in his last sickness fail'd, +The cardinal's and Sir Thomas Lovell's heads +Should have gone off. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ha! what, so rank? Ah ha! +There's mischief in this man: canst thou say further? + +Surveyor +I can, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +Proceed. + +Surveyor +Being at Greenwich, +After your highness had reproved the duke +About Sir William Blomer,-- + +KING HENRY VIII +I remember +Of such a time: being my sworn servant, +The duke retain'd him his. But on; what hence? + +Surveyor +'If,' quoth he, 'I for this had been committed, +As, to the Tower, I thought, I would have play'd +The part my father meant to act upon +The usurper Richard; who, being at Salisbury, +Made suit to come in's presence; which if granted, +As he made semblance of his duty, would +Have put his knife to him.' + +KING HENRY VIII +A giant traitor! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Now, madam, may his highness live in freedom, +and this man out of prison? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +God mend all! + +KING HENRY VIII +There's something more would out of thee; what say'st? + +Surveyor +After 'the duke his father,' with 'the knife,' +He stretch'd him, and, with one hand on his dagger, +Another spread on's breast, mounting his eyes +He did discharge a horrible oath; whose tenor +Was,--were he evil used, he would outgo +His father by as much as a performance +Does an irresolute purpose. + +KING HENRY VIII +There's his period, +To sheathe his knife in us. He is attach'd; +Call him to present trial: if he may +Find mercy in the law, 'tis his: if none, +Let him not seek 't of us: by day and night, +He's traitor to the height. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain and SANDS +Chamberlain +Is't possible the spells of France should juggle +Men into such strange mysteries? + +SANDS +New customs, +Though they be never so ridiculous, +Nay, let 'em be unmanly, yet are follow'd. + +Chamberlain +As far as I see, all the good our English +Have got by the late voyage is but merely +A fit or two o' the face; but they are shrewd ones; +For when they hold 'em, you would swear directly +Their very noses had been counsellors +To Pepin or Clotharius, they keep state so. + +SANDS +They have all new legs, and lame ones: one would take it, +That never saw 'em pace before, the spavin +Or springhalt reign'd among 'em. + +Chamberlain +Death! my lord, +Their clothes are after such a pagan cut too, +That, sure, they've worn out Christendom. + +Enter LOVELL + +How now! +What news, Sir Thomas Lovell? + +LOVELL +Faith, my lord, +I hear of none, but the new proclamation +That's clapp'd upon the court-gate. + +Chamberlain +What is't for? + +LOVELL +The reformation of our travell'd gallants, +That fill the court with quarrels, talk, and tailors. + +Chamberlain +I'm glad 'tis there: now I would pray our monsieurs +To think an English courtier may be wise, +And never see the Louvre. + +LOVELL +They must either, +For so run the conditions, leave those remnants +Of fool and feather that they got in France, +With all their honourable point of ignorance +Pertaining thereunto, as fights and fireworks, +Abusing better men than they can be, +Out of a foreign wisdom, renouncing clean +The faith they have in tennis, and tall stockings, +Short blister'd breeches, and those types of travel, +And understand again like honest men; +Or pack to their old playfellows: there, I take it, +They may, 'cum privilegio,' wear away +The lag end of their lewdness and be laugh'd at. + +SANDS +'Tis time to give 'em physic, their diseases +Are grown so catching. + +Chamberlain +What a loss our ladies +Will have of these trim vanities! + +LOVELL +Ay, marry, +There will be woe indeed, lords: the sly whoresons +Have got a speeding trick to lay down ladies; +A French song and a fiddle has no fellow. + +SANDS +The devil fiddle 'em! I am glad they are going, +For, sure, there's no converting of 'em: now +An honest country lord, as I am, beaten +A long time out of play, may bring his plainsong +And have an hour of hearing; and, by'r lady, +Held current music too. + +Chamberlain +Well said, Lord Sands; +Your colt's tooth is not cast yet. + +SANDS +No, my lord; +Nor shall not, while I have a stump. + +Chamberlain +Sir Thomas, +Whither were you a-going? + +LOVELL +To the cardinal's: +Your lordship is a guest too. + +Chamberlain +O, 'tis true: +This night he makes a supper, and a great one, +To many lords and ladies; there will be +The beauty of this kingdom, I'll assure you. + +LOVELL +That churchman bears a bounteous mind indeed, +A hand as fruitful as the land that feeds us; +His dews fall every where. + +Chamberlain +No doubt he's noble; +He had a black mouth that said other of him. + +SANDS +He may, my lord; has wherewithal: in him +Sparing would show a worse sin than ill doctrine: +Men of his way should be most liberal; +They are set here for examples. + +Chamberlain +True, they are so: +But few now give so great ones. My barge stays; +Your lordship shall along. Come, good Sir Thomas, +We shall be late else; which I would not be, +For I was spoke to, with Sir Henry Guildford +This night to be comptrollers. + +SANDS +I am your lordship's. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A Hall in York Place. + +Hautboys. A small table under a state for CARDINAL WOLSEY, a longer table for the guests. Then enter ANNE and divers other Ladies and Gentlemen as guests, at one door; at another door, enter GUILDFORD +GUILDFORD +Ladies, a general welcome from his grace +Salutes ye all; this night he dedicates +To fair content and you: none here, he hopes, +In all this noble bevy, has brought with her +One care abroad; he would have all as merry +As, first, good company, good wine, good welcome, +Can make good people. O, my lord, you're tardy: + +Enter Chamberlain, SANDS, and LOVELL + +The very thought of this fair company +Clapp'd wings to me. + +Chamberlain +You are young, Sir Harry Guildford. + +SANDS +Sir Thomas Lovell, had the cardinal +But half my lay thoughts in him, some of these +Should find a running banquet ere they rested, +I think would better please 'em: by my life, +They are a sweet society of fair ones. + +LOVELL +O, that your lordship were but now confessor +To one or two of these! + +SANDS +I would I were; +They should find easy penance. + +LOVELL +Faith, how easy? + +SANDS +As easy as a down-bed would afford it. + +Chamberlain +Sweet ladies, will it please you sit? Sir Harry, +Place you that side; I'll take the charge of this: +His grace is entering. Nay, you must not freeze; +Two women placed together makes cold weather: +My Lord Sands, you are one will keep 'em waking; +Pray, sit between these ladies. + +SANDS +By my faith, +And thank your lordship. By your leave, sweet ladies: +If I chance to talk a little wild, forgive me; +I had it from my father. + +ANNE +Was he mad, sir? + +SANDS +O, very mad, exceeding mad, in love too: +But he would bite none; just as I do now, +He would kiss you twenty with a breath. + +Kisses her + +Chamberlain +Well said, my lord. +So, now you're fairly seated. Gentlemen, +The penance lies on you, if these fair ladies +Pass away frowning. + +SANDS +For my little cure, +Let me alone. + +Hautboys. Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, and takes his state + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You're welcome, my fair guests: that noble lady, +Or gentleman, that is not freely merry, +Is not my friend: this, to confirm my welcome; +And to you all, good health. + +Drinks + +SANDS +Your grace is noble: +Let me have such a bowl may hold my thanks, +And save me so much talking. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My Lord Sands, +I am beholding to you: cheer your neighbours. +Ladies, you are not merry: gentlemen, +Whose fault is this? + +SANDS +The red wine first must rise +In their fair cheeks, my lord; then we shall have 'em +Talk us to silence. + +ANNE +You are a merry gamester, +My Lord Sands. + +SANDS +Yes, if I make my play. +Here's to your ladyship: and pledge it, madam, +For 'tis to such a thing,-- + +ANNE +You cannot show me. + +SANDS +I told your grace they would talk anon. + +Drum and trumpet, chambers discharged + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What's that? + +Chamberlain +Look out there, some of ye. + +Exit Servant + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What warlike voice, +And to what end is this? Nay, ladies, fear not; +By all the laws of war you're privileged. + +Re-enter Servant + +Chamberlain +How now! what is't? + +Servant +A noble troop of strangers; +For so they seem: they've left their barge and landed; +And hither make, as great ambassadors +From foreign princes. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Good lord chamberlain, +Go, give 'em welcome; you can speak the French tongue; +And, pray, receive 'em nobly, and conduct 'em +Into our presence, where this heaven of beauty +Shall shine at full upon them. Some attend him. + +Exit Chamberlain, attended. All rise, and tables removed + +You have now a broken banquet; but we'll mend it. +A good digestion to you all: and once more +I shower a welcome on ye; welcome all. + +Hautboys. Enter KING HENRY VIII and others, as masquers, habited like shepherds, ushered by the Chamberlain. They pass directly before CARDINAL WOLSEY, and gracefully salute him + +A noble company! what are their pleasures? + +Chamberlain +Because they speak no English, thus they pray'd +To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame +Of this so noble and so fair assembly +This night to meet here, they could do no less +Out of the great respect they bear to beauty, +But leave their flocks; and, under your fair conduct, +Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat +An hour of revels with 'em. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Say, lord chamberlain, +They have done my poor house grace; for which I pay 'em +A thousand thanks, and pray 'em take their pleasures. + +They choose Ladies for the dance. KING HENRY VIII chooses ANNE + +KING HENRY VIII +The fairest hand I ever touch'd! O beauty, +Till now I never knew thee! + +Music. Dance + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My lord! + +Chamberlain +Your grace? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, tell 'em thus much from me: +There should be one amongst 'em, by his person, +More worthy this place than myself; to whom, +If I but knew him, with my love and duty +I would surrender it. + +Chamberlain +I will, my lord. + +Whispers the Masquers + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +What say they? + +Chamberlain +Such a one, they all confess, +There is indeed; which they would have your grace +Find out, and he will take it. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Let me see, then. +By all your good leaves, gentlemen; here I'll make +My royal choice. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye have found him, cardinal: + +Unmasking + +You hold a fair assembly; you do well, lord: +You are a churchman, or, I'll tell you, cardinal, +I should judge now unhappily. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I am glad +Your grace is grown so pleasant. + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord chamberlain, +Prithee, come hither: what fair lady's that? + +Chamberlain +An't please your grace, Sir Thomas Bullen's daughter-- +The Viscount Rochford,--one of her highness' women. + +KING HENRY VIII +By heaven, she is a dainty one. Sweetheart, +I were unmannerly, to take you out, +And not to kiss you. A health, gentlemen! +Let it go round. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir Thomas Lovell, is the banquet ready +I' the privy chamber? + +LOVELL +Yes, my lord. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace, +I fear, with dancing is a little heated. + +KING HENRY VIII +I fear, too much. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +There's fresher air, my lord, +In the next chamber. + +KING HENRY VIII +Lead in your ladies, every one: sweet partner, +I must not yet forsake you: let's be merry: +Good my lord cardinal, I have half a dozen healths +To drink to these fair ladies, and a measure +To lead 'em once again; and then let's dream +Who's best in favour. Let the music knock it. + +Exeunt with trumpets + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Westminster. A street. + +Enter two Gentlemen, meeting +First Gentleman +Whither away so fast? + +Second Gentleman +O, God save ye! +Even to the hall, to hear what shall become +Of the great Duke of Buckingham. + +First Gentleman +I'll save you +That labour, sir. All's now done, but the ceremony +Of bringing back the prisoner. + +Second Gentleman +Were you there? + +First Gentleman +Yes, indeed, was I. + +Second Gentleman +Pray, speak what has happen'd. + +First Gentleman +You may guess quickly what. + +Second Gentleman +Is he found guilty? + +First Gentleman +Yes, truly is he, and condemn'd upon't. + +Second Gentleman +I am sorry for't. + +First Gentleman +So are a number more. + +Second Gentleman +But, pray, how pass'd it? + +First Gentleman +I'll tell you in a little. The great duke +Came to the bar; where to his accusations +He pleaded still not guilty and alleged +Many sharp reasons to defeat the law. +The king's attorney on the contrary +Urged on the examinations, proofs, confessions +Of divers witnesses; which the duke desired +To have brought viva voce to his face: +At which appear'd against him his surveyor; +Sir Gilbert Peck his chancellor; and John Car, +Confessor to him; with that devil-monk, +Hopkins, that made this mischief. + +Second Gentleman +That was he +That fed him with his prophecies? + +First Gentleman +The same. +All these accused him strongly; which he fain +Would have flung from him, but, indeed, he could not: +And so his peers, upon this evidence, +Have found him guilty of high treason. Much +He spoke, and learnedly, for life; but all +Was either pitied in him or forgotten. + +Second Gentleman +After all this, how did he bear himself? + +First Gentleman +When he was brought again to the bar, to hear +His knell rung out, his judgment, he was stirr'd +With such an agony, he sweat extremely, +And something spoke in choler, ill, and hasty: +But he fell to himself again, and sweetly +In all the rest show'd a most noble patience. + +Second Gentleman +I do not think he fears death. + +First Gentleman +Sure, he does not: +He never was so womanish; the cause +He may a little grieve at. + +Second Gentleman +Certainly +The cardinal is the end of this. + +First Gentleman +'Tis likely, +By all conjectures: first, Kildare's attainder, +Then deputy of Ireland; who removed, +Earl Surrey was sent thither, and in haste too, +Lest he should help his father. + +Second Gentleman +That trick of state +Was a deep envious one. + +First Gentleman +At his return +No doubt he will requite it. This is noted, +And generally, whoever the king favours, +The cardinal instantly will find employment, +And far enough from court too. + +Second Gentleman +All the commons +Hate him perniciously, and, o' my conscience, +Wish him ten fathom deep: this duke as much +They love and dote on; call him bounteous Buckingham, +The mirror of all courtesy;-- + +First Gentleman +Stay there, sir, +And see the noble ruin'd man you speak of. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM from his arraignment; tip-staves before him; the axe with the edge towards him; halberds on each side: accompanied with LOVELL, VAUX, SANDS, and common people + +Second Gentleman +Let's stand close, and behold him. + +BUCKINGHAM +All good people, +You that thus far have come to pity me, +Hear what I say, and then go home and lose me. +I have this day received a traitor's judgment, +And by that name must die: yet, heaven bear witness, +And if I have a co nscience, let it sink me, +Even as the axe falls, if I be not faithful! +The law I bear no malice for my death; +'T has done, upon the premises, but justice: +But those that sought it I could wish more Christians: +Be what they will, I heartily forgive 'em: +Yet let 'em look they glory not in mischief, +Nor build their evils on the graves of great men; +For then my guiltless blood must cry against 'em. +For further life in this world I ne'er hope, +Nor will I sue, although the king have mercies +More than I dare make faults. You few that loved me, +And dare be bold to weep for Buckingham, +His noble friends and fellows, whom to leave +Is only bitter to him, only dying, +Go with me, like good angels, to my end; +And, as the long divorce of steel falls on me, +Make of your prayers one sweet sacrifice, +And lift my soul to heaven. Lead on, o' God's name. + +LOVELL +I do beseech your grace, for charity, +If ever any malice in your heart +Were hid against me, now to forgive me frankly. + +BUCKINGHAM +Sir Thomas Lovell, I as free forgive you +As I would be forgiven: I forgive all; +There cannot be those numberless offences +'Gainst me, that I cannot take peace with: +no black envy +Shall mark my grave. Commend me to his grace; +And if he speak of Buckingham, pray, tell him +You met him half in heaven: my vows and prayers +Yet are the king's; and, till my soul forsake, +Shall cry for blessings on him: may he live +Longer than I have time to tell his years! +Ever beloved and loving may his rule be! +And when old time shall lead him to his end, +Goodness and he fill up one monument! + +LOVELL +To the water side I must conduct your grace; +Then give my charge up to Sir Nicholas Vaux, +Who undertakes you to your end. + +VAUX +Prepare there, +The duke is coming: see the barge be ready; +And fit it with such furniture as suits +The greatness of his person. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nay, Sir Nicholas, +Let it alone; my state now will but mock me. +When I came hither, I was lord high constable +And Duke of Buckingham; now, poor Edward Bohun: +Yet I am richer than my base accusers, +That never knew what truth meant: I now seal it; +And with that blood will make 'em one day groan for't. +My noble father, Henry of Buckingham, +Who first raised head against usurping Richard, +Flying for succor to his servant Banister, +Being distress'd, was by that wretch betray'd, +And without trial fell; God's peace be with him! +Henry the Seventh succeeding, truly pitying +My father's loss, like a most royal prince, +Restored me to my honours, and, out of ruins, +Made my name once more noble. Now his son, +Henry the Eighth, life, honour, name and all +That made me happy at one stroke has taken +For ever from the world. I had my trial, +And, must needs say, a noble one; which makes me, +A little happier than my wretched father: +Yet thus far we are one in fortunes: both +Fell by our servants, by those men we loved most; +A most unnatural and faithless service! +Heaven has an end in all: yet, you that hear me, +This from a dying man receive as certain: +Where you are liberal of your loves and counsels +Be sure you be not loose; for those you make friends +And give your hearts to, when they once perceive +The least rub in your fortunes, fall away +Like water from ye, never found again +But where they mean to sink ye. All good people, +Pray for me! I must now forsake ye: the last hour +Of my long weary life is come upon me. Farewell: +And when you would say something that is sad, +Speak how I fell. I have done; and God forgive me! + +Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and Train + +First Gentleman +O, this is full of pity! Sir, it calls, +I fear, too many curses on their beads +That were the authors. + +Second Gentleman +If the duke be guiltless, +'Tis full of woe: yet I can give you inkling +Of an ensuing evil, if it fall, +Greater than this. + +First Gentleman +Good angels keep it from us! +What may it be? You do not doubt my faith, sir? + +Second Gentleman +This secret is so weighty, 'twill require +A strong faith to conceal it. + +First Gentleman +Let me have it; +I do not talk much. + +Second Gentleman +I am confident, +You shall, sir: did you not of late days hear +A buzzing of a separation +Between the king and Katharine? + +First Gentleman +Yes, but it held not: +For when the king once heard it, out of anger +He sent command to the lord mayor straight +To stop the rumor, and allay those tongues +That durst disperse it. + +Second Gentleman +But that slander, sir, +Is found a truth now: for it grows again +Fresher than e'er it was; and held for certain +The king will venture at it. Either the cardinal, +Or some about him near, have, out of malice +To the good queen, possess'd him with a scruple +That will undo her: to confirm this too, +Cardinal Campeius is arrived, and lately; +As all think, for this business. + +First Gentleman +'Tis the cardinal; +And merely to revenge him on the emperor +For not bestowing on him, at his asking, +The archbishopric of Toledo, this is purposed. + +Second Gentleman +I think you have hit the mark: but is't not cruel +That she should feel the smart of this? The cardinal +Will have his will, and she must fall. + +First Gentleman +'Tis woful. +We are too open here to argue this; +Let's think in private more. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. An ante-chamber in the palace. + +Enter Chamberlain, reading a letter +Chamberlain +'My lord, the horses your lordship sent for, with +all the care I had, I saw well chosen, ridden, and +furnished. They were young and handsome, and of the +best breed in the north. When they were ready to +set out for London, a man of my lord cardinal's, by +commission and main power, took 'em from me; with +this reason: His master would be served before a +subject, if not before the king; which stopped our +mouths, sir.' +I fear he will indeed: well, let him have them: +He will have all, I think. + +Enter, to Chamberlain, NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +NORFOLK +Well met, my lord chamberlain. + +Chamberlain +Good day to both your graces. + +SUFFOLK +How is the king employ'd? + +Chamberlain +I left him private, +Full of sad thoughts and troubles. + +NORFOLK +What's the cause? + +Chamberlain +It seems the marriage with his brother's wife +Has crept too near his conscience. + +SUFFOLK +No, his conscience +Has crept too near another lady. + +NORFOLK +'Tis so: +This is the cardinal's doing, the king-cardinal: +That blind priest, like the eldest son of fortune, +Turns what he list. The king will know him one day. + +SUFFOLK +Pray God he do! he'll never know himself else. + +NORFOLK +How holily he works in all his business! +And with what zeal! for, now he has crack'd the league +Between us and the emperor, the queen's great nephew, +He dives into the king's soul, and there scatters +Dangers, doubts, wringing of the conscience, +Fears, and despairs; and all these for his marriage: +And out of all these to restore the king, +He counsels a divorce; a loss of her +That, like a jewel, has hung twenty years +About his neck, yet never lost her lustre; +Of her that loves him with that excellence +That angels love good men with; even of her +That, when the greatest stroke of fortune falls, +Will bless the king: and is not this course pious? + +Chamberlain +Heaven keep me from such counsel! 'Tis most true +These news are every where; every tongue speaks 'em, +And every true heart weeps for't: all that dare +Look into these affairs see this main end, +The French king's sister. Heaven will one day open +The king's eyes, that so long have slept upon +This bold bad man. + +SUFFOLK +And free us from his slavery. + +NORFOLK +We had need pray, +And heartily, for our deliverance; +Or this imperious man will work us all +From princes into pages: all men's honours +Lie like one lump before him, to be fashion'd +Into what pitch he please. + +SUFFOLK +For me, my lords, +I love him not, nor fear him; there's my creed: +As I am made without him, so I'll stand, +If the king please; his curses and his blessings +Touch me alike, they're breath I not believe in. +I knew him, and I know him; so I leave him +To him that made him proud, the pope. + +NORFOLK +Let's in; +And with some other business put the king +From these sad thoughts, that work too much upon him: +My lord, you'll bear us company? + +Chamberlain +Excuse me; +The king has sent me otherwhere: besides, +You'll find a most unfit time to disturb him: +Health to your lordships. + +NORFOLK +Thanks, my good lord chamberlain. + +Exit Chamberlain; and KING HENRY VIII draws the curtain, and sits reading pensively + +SUFFOLK +How sad he looks! sure, he is much afflicted. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, ha? + +NORFOLK +Pray God he be not angry. + +KING HENRY VIII +Who's there, I say? How dare you thrust yourselves +Into my private meditations? +Who am I? ha? + +NORFOLK +A gracious king that pardons all offences +Malice ne'er meant: our breach of duty this way +Is business of estate; in which we come +To know your royal pleasure. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ye are too bold: +Go to; I'll make ye know your times of business: +Is this an hour for temporal affairs, ha? + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS, with a commission + +Who's there? my good lord cardinal? O my Wolsey, +The quiet of my wounded conscience; +Thou art a cure fit for a king. + +To CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +You're welcome, +Most learned reverend sir, into our kingdom: +Use us and it. + +To CARDINAL WOLSEY + +My good lord, have great care +I be not found a talker. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, you cannot. +I would your grace would give us but an hour +Of private conference. + +KING HENRY VIII +[To NORFOLK and SUFFOLK] +We are busy; go. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] +This priest has no pride in him? + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] Not to speak of: +I would not be so sick though for his place: +But this cannot continue. + +NORFOLK +[Aside to SUFFOLK] If it do, +I'll venture one have-at-him. + +SUFFOLK +[Aside to NORFOLK] I another. + +Exeunt NORFOLK and SUFFOLK + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your grace has given a precedent of wisdom +Above all princes, in committing freely +Your scruple to the voice of Christendom: +Who can be angry now? what envy reach you? +The Spaniard, tied blood and favour to her, +Must now confess, if they have any goodness, +The trial just and noble. All the clerks, +I mean the learned ones, in Christian kingdoms +Have their free voices: Rome, the nurse of judgment, +Invited by your noble self, hath sent +One general tongue unto us, this good man, +This just and learned priest, Cardinal Campeius; +Whom once more I present unto your highness. + +KING HENRY VIII +And once more in mine arms I bid him welcome, +And thank the holy conclave for their loves: +They have sent me such a man I would have wish'd for. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your grace must needs deserve all strangers' loves, +You are so noble. To your highness' hand +I tender my commission; by whose virtue, +The court of Rome commanding, you, my lord +Cardinal of York, are join'd with me their servant +In the unpartial judging of this business. + +KING HENRY VIII +Two equal men. The queen shall be acquainted +Forthwith for what you come. Where's Gardiner? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I know your majesty has always loved her +So dear in heart, not to deny her that +A woman of less place might ask by law: +Scholars allow'd freely to argue for her. + +KING HENRY VIII +Ay, and the best she shall have; and my favour +To him that does best: God forbid else. Cardinal, +Prithee, call Gardiner to me, my new secretary: +I find him a fit fellow. + +Exit CARDINAL WOLSEY + +Re-enter CARDINAL WOLSEY, with GARDINER + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside to GARDINER] Give me your hand much joy and +favour to you; +You are the king's now. + +GARDINER +[Aside to CARDINAL WOLSEY] +But to be commanded +For ever by your grace, whose hand has raised me. + +KING HENRY VIII +Come hither, Gardiner. + +Walks and whispers + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +My Lord of York, was not one Doctor Pace +In this man's place before him? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, he was. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Was he not held a learned man? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Yes, surely. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Believe me, there's an ill opinion spread then +Even of yourself, lord cardinal. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +How! of me? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +They will not stick to say you envied him, +And fearing he would rise, he was so virtuous, +Kept him a foreign man still; which so grieved him, +That he ran mad and died. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven's peace be with him! +That's Christian care enough: for living murmurers +There's places of rebuke. He was a fool; +For he would needs be virtuous: that good fellow, +If I command him, follows my appointment: +I will have none so near else. Learn this, brother, +We live not to be grip'd by meaner persons. + +KING HENRY VIII +Deliver this with modesty to the queen. + +Exit GARDINER + +The most convenient place that I can think of +For such receipt of learning is Black-Friars; +There ye shall meet about this weighty business. +My Wolsey, see it furnish'd. O, my lord, +Would it not grieve an able man to leave +So sweet a bedfellow? But, conscience, conscience! +O, 'tis a tender place; and I must leave her. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments. + +Enter ANNE and an Old Lady +ANNE +Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches: +His highness having lived so long with her, and she +So good a lady that no tongue could ever +Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life, +She never knew harm-doing: O, now, after +So many courses of the sun enthroned, +Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which +To leave a thousand-fold more bitter than +'Tis sweet at first to acquire,--after this process, +To give her the avaunt! it is a pity +Would move a monster. + +Old Lady +Hearts of most hard temper +Melt and lament for her. + +ANNE +O, God's will! much better +She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal, +Yet, if that quarrel, fortune, do divorce +It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging +As soul and body's severing. + +Old Lady +Alas, poor lady! +She's a stranger now again. + +ANNE +So much the more +Must pity drop upon her. Verily, +I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born, +And range with humble livers in content, +Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief, +And wear a golden sorrow. + +Old Lady +Our content +Is our best having. + +ANNE +By my troth and maidenhead, +I would not be a queen. + +Old Lady +Beshrew me, I would, +And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you, +For all this spice of your hypocrisy: +You, that have so fair parts of woman on you, +Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet +Affected eminence, wealth, sovereignty; +Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts, +Saving your mincing, the capacity +Of your soft cheveril conscience would receive, +If you might please to stretch it. + +ANNE +Nay, good troth. + +Old Lady +Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen? + +ANNE +No, not for all the riches under heaven. +Old Lady: 'Tis strange: a three-pence bow'd would hire me, +Old as I am, to queen it: but, I pray you, +What think you of a duchess? have you limbs +To bear that load of title? + +ANNE +No, in truth. + +Old Lady +Then you are weakly made: pluck off a little; +I would not be a young count in your way, +For more than blushing comes to: if your back +Cannot vouchsafe this burthen,'tis too weak +Ever to get a boy. + +ANNE +How you do talk! +I swear again, I would not be a queen +For all the world. + +Old Lady +In faith, for little England +You'ld venture an emballing: I myself +Would for Carnarvonshire, although there long'd +No more to the crown but that. Lo, who comes here? + +Enter Chamberlain + +Chamberlain +Good morrow, ladies. What were't worth to know +The secret of your conference? + +ANNE +My good lord, +Not your demand; it values not your asking: +Our mistress' sorrows we were pitying. + +Chamberlain +It was a gentle business, and becoming +The action of good women: there is hope +All will be well. + +ANNE +Now, I pray God, amen! + +Chamberlain +You bear a gentle mind, and heavenly blessings +Follow such creatures. That you may, fair lady, +Perceive I speak sincerely, and high note's +Ta'en of your many virtues, the king's majesty +Commends his good opinion of you, and +Does purpose honour to you no less flowing +Than Marchioness of Pembroke: to which title +A thousand pound a year, annual support, +Out of his grace he adds. + +ANNE +I do not know +What kind of my obedience I should tender; +More than my all is nothing: nor my prayers +Are not words duly hallow'd, nor my wishes +More worth than empty vanities; yet prayers and wishes +Are all I can return. Beseech your lordship, +Vouchsafe to speak my thanks and my obedience, +As from a blushing handmaid, to his highness; +Whose health and royalty I pray for. + +Chamberlain +Lady, +I shall not fail to approve the fair conceit +The king hath of you. + +Aside + +I have perused her well; +Beauty and honour in her are so mingled +That they have caught the king: and who knows yet +But from this lady may proceed a gem +To lighten all this isle? I'll to the king, +And say I spoke with you. + +Exit Chamberlain + +ANNE +My honour'd lord. + +Old Lady +Why, this it is; see, see! +I have been begging sixteen years in court, +Am yet a courtier beggarly, nor could +Come pat betwixt too early and too late +For any suit of pounds; and you, O fate! +A very fresh-fish here--fie, fie, fie upon +This compell'd fortune!--have your mouth fill'd up +Before you open it. + +ANNE +This is strange to me. + +Old Lady +How tastes it? is it bitter? forty pence, no. +There was a lady once, 'tis an old story, +That would not be a queen, that would she not, +For all the mud in Egypt: have you heard it? + +ANNE +Come, you are pleasant. + +Old Lady +With your theme, I could +O'ermount the lark. The Marchioness of Pembroke! +A thousand pounds a year for pure respect! +No other obligation! By my life, +That promises moe thousands: honour's train +Is longer than his foreskirt. By this time +I know your back will bear a duchess: say, +Are you not stronger than you were? + +ANNE +Good lady, +Make yourself mirth with your particular fancy, +And leave me out on't. Would I had no being, +If this salute my blood a jot: it faints me, +To think what follows. +The queen is comfortless, and we forgetful +In our long absence: pray, do not deliver +What here you've heard to her. + +Old Lady +What do you think me? + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in Black-Friars. + +Trumpets, sennet, and cornets. Enter two Vergers, with short silver wands; next them, two Scribes, in the habit of doctors; after them, CANTERBURY alone; after him, LINCOLN, Ely, Rochester, and Saint Asaph; next them, with some small distance, follows a Gentleman bearing the purse, with the great seal, and a cardinal's hat; then two Priests, bearing each a silver cross; then a Gentleman-usher bare-headed, accompanied with a Sergeant-at-arms bearing a silver mace; then two Gentlemen bearing two great silver pillars; after them, side by side, CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS; two Noblemen with the sword and mace. KING HENRY VIII takes place under the cloth of state; CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS sit under him as judges. QUEEN KATHARINE takes place some distance from KING HENRY VIII. The Bishops place themselves on each side the court, in manner of a consistory; below them, the Scribes. The Lords sit next the Bishops. The rest of the Attendants stand in convenient order about the stage +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Whilst our commission from Rome is read, +Let silence be commanded. + +KING HENRY VIII +What's the need? +It hath already publicly been read, +And on all sides the authority allow'd; +You may, then, spare that time. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be't so. Proceed. + +Scribe +Say, Henry King of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Henry King of England, & c. + +KING HENRY VIII +Here. + +Scribe +Say, Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, & c. + +QUEEN KATHARINE makes no answer, rises out of her chair, goes about the court, comes to KING HENRY VIII, and kneels at his feet; then speaks + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, I desire you do me right and justice; +And to bestow your pity on me: for +I am a most poor woman, and a stranger, +Born out of your dominions; having here +No judge indifferent, nor no more assurance +Of equal friendship and proceeding. Alas, sir, +In what have I offended you? what cause +Hath my behavior given to your displeasure, +That thus you should proceed to put me off, +And take your good grace from me? Heaven witness, +I have been to you a true and humble wife, +At all times to your will conformable; +Ever in fear to kindle your dislike, +Yea, subject to your countenance, glad or sorry +As I saw it inclined: when was the hour +I ever contradicted your desire, +Or made it not mine too? Or which of your friends +Have I not strove to love, although I knew +He were mine enemy? what friend of mine +That had to him derived your anger, did I +Continue in my liking? nay, gave notice +He was from thence discharged. Sir, call to mind +That I have been your wife, in this obedience, +Upward of twenty years, and have been blest +With many children by you: if, in the course +And process of this time, you can report, +And prove it too, against mine honour aught, +My bond to wedlock, or my love and duty, +Against your sacred person, in God's name, +Turn me away; and let the foul'st contempt +Shut door upon me, and so give me up +To the sharp'st kind of justice. Please you sir, +The king, your father, was reputed for +A prince most prudent, of an excellent +And unmatch'd wit and judgment: Ferdinand, +My father, king of Spain, was reckon'd one +The wisest prince that there had reign'd by many +A year before: it is not to be question'd +That they had gather'd a wise council to them +Of every realm, that did debate this business, +Who deem'd our marriage lawful: wherefore I humbly +Beseech you, sir, to spare me, till I may +Be by my friends in Spain advised; whose counsel +I will implore: if not, i' the name of God, +Your pleasure be fulfill'd! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +You have here, lady, +And of your choice, these reverend fathers; men +Of singular integrity and learning, +Yea, the elect o' the land, who are assembled +To plead your cause: it shall be therefore bootless +That longer you desire the court; as well +For your own quiet, as to rectify +What is unsettled in the king. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +His grace +Hath spoken well and justly: therefore, madam, +It's fit this royal session do proceed; +And that, without delay, their arguments +Be now produced and heard. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Lord cardinal, +To you I speak. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Your pleasure, madam? + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Sir, +I am about to weep; but, thinking that +We are a queen, or long have dream'd so, certain +The daughter of a king, my drops of tears +I'll turn to sparks of fire. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Be patient yet. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +I will, when you are humble; nay, before, +Or God will punish me. I do believe, +Induced by potent circumstances, that +You are mine enemy, and make my challenge +You shall not be my judge: for it is you +Have blown this coal betwixt my lord and me; +Which God's dew quench! Therefore I say again, +I utterly abhor, yea, from my soul +Refuse you for my judge; whom, yet once more, +I hold my most malicious foe, and think not +At all a friend to truth. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +I do profess +You speak not like yourself; who ever yet +Have stood to charity, and display'd the effects +Of disposition gentle, and of wisdom +O'ertopping woman's power. Madam, you do me wrong: +I have no spleen against you; nor injustice +For you or any: how far I have proceeded, +Or how far further shall, is warranted +By a commission from the consistory, +Yea, the whole consistory of Rome. You charge me +That I have blown this coal: I do deny it: +The king is present: if it be known to him +That I gainsay my deed, how may he wound, +And worthily, my falsehood! yea, as much +As you have done my truth. If he know +That I am free of your report, he knows +I am not of your wrong. Therefore in him +It lies to cure me: and the cure is, to +Remove these thoughts from you: the which before +His highness shall speak in, I do beseech +You, gracious madam, to unthink your speaking +And to say so no more. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, my lord, +I am a simple woman, much too weak +To oppose your cunning. You're meek and +humble-mouth'd; +You sign your place and calling, in full seeming, +With meekness and humility; but your heart +Is cramm'd with arrogancy, spleen, and pride. +You have, by fortune and his highness' favours, +Gone slightly o'er low steps and now are mounted +Where powers are your retainers, and your words, +Domestics to you, serve your will as't please +Yourself pronounce their office. I must tell you, +You tender more your person's honour than +Your high profession spiritual: that again +I do refuse you for my judge; and here, +Before you all, appeal unto the pope, +To bring my whole cause 'fore his holiness, +And to be judged by him. + +She curtsies to KING HENRY VIII, and offers to depart + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +The queen is obstinate, +Stubborn to justice, apt to accuse it, and +Disdainful to be tried by't: 'tis not well. +She's going away. + +KING HENRY VIII +Call her again. + +Crier +Katharine Queen of England, come into the court. + +GRIFFITH +Madam, you are call'd back. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +What need you note it? pray you, keep your way: +When you are call'd, return. Now, the Lord help, +They vex me past my patience! Pray you, pass on: +I will not tarry; no, nor ever more +Upon this business my appearance make +In any of their courts. + +Exeunt QUEEN KATHARINE and her Attendants + +KING HENRY VIII +Go thy ways, Kate: +That man i' the world who shall report he has +A better wife, let him in nought be trusted, +For speaking false in that: thou art, alone, +If thy rare qualities, sweet gentleness, +Thy meekness saint-like, wife-like government, +Obeying in commanding, and thy parts +Sovereign and pious else, could speak thee out, +The queen of earthly queens: she's noble born; +And, like her true nobility, she has +Carried herself towards me. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Most gracious sir, +In humblest manner I require your highness, +That it shall please you to declare, in hearing +Of all these ears,--for where I am robb'd and bound, +There must I be unloosed, although not there +At once and fully satisfied,--whether ever I +Did broach this business to your highness; or +Laid any scruple in your way, which might +Induce you to the question on't? or ever +Have to you, but with thanks to God for such +A royal lady, spake one the least word that might +Be to the prejudice of her present state, +Or touch of her good person? + +KING HENRY VIII +My lord cardinal, +I do excuse you; yea, upon mine honour, +I free you from't. You are not to be taught +That you have many enemies, that know not +Why they are so, but, like to village-curs, +Bark when their fellows do: by some of these +The queen is put in anger. You're excused: +But will you be more justified? You ever +Have wish'd the sleeping of this business; never desired +It to be stirr'd; but oft have hinder'd, oft, +The passages made toward it: on my honour, +I speak my good lord cardinal to this point, +And thus far clear him. Now, what moved me to't, +I will be bold with time and your attention: +Then mark the inducement. Thus it came; give heed to't: +My conscience first received a tenderness, +Scruple, and prick, on certain speeches utter'd +By the Bishop of Bayonne, then French ambassador; +Who had been hither sent on the debating +A marriage 'twixt the Duke of Orleans and +Our daughter Mary: i' the progress of this business, +Ere a determinate resolution, he, +I mean the bishop, did require a respite; +Wherein he might the king his lord advertise +Whether our daughter were legitimate, +Respecting this our marriage with the dowager, +Sometimes our brother's wife. This respite shook +The bosom of my conscience, enter'd me, +Yea, with a splitting power, and made to tremble +The region of my breast; which forced such way, +That many mazed considerings did throng +And press'd in with this caution. First, methought +I stood not in the smile of heaven; who had +Commanded nature, that my lady's womb, +If it conceived a male child by me, should +Do no more offices of life to't than +The grave does to the dead; for her male issue +Or died where they were made, or shortly after +This world had air'd them: hence I took a thought, +This was a judgment on me; that my kingdom, +Well worthy the best heir o' the world, should not +Be gladded in't by me: then follows, that +I weigh'd the danger which my realms stood in +By this my issue's fail; and that gave to me +Many a groaning throe. Thus hulling in +The wild sea of my conscience, I did steer +Toward this remedy, whereupon we are +Now present here together: that's to say, +I meant to rectify my conscience,--which +I then did feel full sick, and yet not well,-- +By all the reverend fathers of the land +And doctors learn'd: first I began in private +With you, my Lord of Lincoln; you remember +How under my oppression I did reek, +When I first moved you. + +LINCOLN +Very well, my liege. + +KING HENRY VIII +I have spoke long: be pleased yourself to say +How far you satisfied me. + +LINCOLN +So please your highness, +The question did at first so stagger me, +Bearing a state of mighty moment in't +And consequence of dread, that I committed +The daring'st counsel which I had to doubt; +And did entreat your highness to this course +Which you are running here. + +KING HENRY VIII +I then moved you, +My Lord of Canterbury; and got your leave +To make this present summons: unsolicited +I left no reverend person in this court; +But by particular consent proceeded +Under your hands and seals: therefore, go on: +For no dislike i' the world against the person +Of the good queen, but the sharp thorny points +Of my alleged reasons, drive this forward: +Prove but our marriage lawful, by my life +And kingly dignity, we are contented +To wear our mortal state to come with her, +Katharine our queen, before the primest creature +That's paragon'd o' the world. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +So please your highness, +The queen being absent, 'tis a needful fitness +That we adjourn this court till further day: +Meanwhile must be an earnest motion +Made to the queen, to call back her appeal +She intends unto his holiness. + +KING HENRY VIII +[Aside] I may perceive +These cardinals trifle with me: I abhor +This dilatory sloth and tricks of Rome. +My learn'd and well-beloved servant, Cranmer, +Prithee, return: with thy approach, I know, +My comfort comes along. Break up the court: +I say, set on. + +Exeunt in manner as they entered + + +ACT III +SCENE I. London. QUEEN KATHARINE's apartments. + +Enter QUEEN KATHARINE and her Women, as at work +QUEEN KATHARINE +Take thy lute, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles; +Sing, and disperse 'em, if thou canst: leave working. + +SONG + +Orpheus with his lute made trees, +And the mountain tops that freeze, +Bow themselves when he did sing: +To his music plants and flowers +Ever sprung; as sun and showers +There had made a lasting spring. +Every thing that heard him play, +Even the billows of the sea, +Hung their heads, and then lay by. +In sweet music is such art, +Killing care and grief of heart +Fall asleep, or hearing, die. + +Enter a Gentleman + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How now! + +Gentleman +An't please your grace, the two great cardinals +Wait in the presence. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would they speak with me? + +Gentleman +They will'd me say so, madam. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Pray their graces +To come near. + +Exit Gentleman + +What can be their business +With me, a poor weak woman, fall'n from favour? +I do not like their coming. Now I think on't, +They should be good men; their affairs as righteous: +But all hoods make not monks. + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CARDINAL CAMPEIUS + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Peace to your highness! + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Your graces find me here part of a housewife, +I would be all, against the worst may happen. +What are your pleasures with me, reverend lords? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +May it please you noble madam, to withdraw +Into your private chamber, we shall give you +The full cause of our coming. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Speak it here: +There's nothing I have done yet, o' my conscience, +Deserves a corner: would all other women +Could speak this with as free a soul as I do! +My lords, I care not, so much I am happy +Above a number, if my actions +Were tried by every tongue, every eye saw 'em, +Envy and base opinion set against 'em, +I know my life so even. If your business +Seek me out, and that way I am wife in, +Out with it boldly: truth loves open dealing. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Tanta est erga te mentis integritas, regina +serenissima,-- + +QUEEN KATHARINE +O, good my lord, no Latin; +I am not such a truant since my coming, +As not to know the language I have lived in: +A strange tongue makes my cause more strange, +suspicious; +Pray, speak in English: here are some will thank you, +If you speak truth, for their poor mistress' sake; +Believe me, she has had much wrong: lord cardinal, +The willing'st sin I ever yet committed +May be absolved in English. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Noble lady, +I am sorry my integrity should breed, +And service to his majesty and you, +So deep suspicion, where all faith was meant. +We come not by the way of accusation, +To taint that honour every good tongue blesses, +Nor to betray you any way to sorrow, +You have too much, good lady; but to know +How you stand minded in the weighty difference +Between the king and you; and to deliver, +Like free and honest men, our just opinions +And comforts to your cause. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Most honour'd madam, +My Lord of York, out of his noble nature, +Zeal and obedience he still bore your grace, +Forgetting, like a good man your late censure +Both of his truth and him, which was too far, +Offers, as I do, in a sign of peace, +His service and his counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +[Aside] To betray me.-- +My lords, I thank you both for your good wills; +Ye speak like honest men; pray God, ye prove so! +But how to make ye suddenly an answer, +In such a point of weight, so near mine honour,-- +More near my life, I fear,--with my weak wit, +And to such men of gravity and learning, +In truth, I know not. I was set at work +Among my maids: full little, God knows, looking +Either for such men or such business. +For her sake that I have been,--for I feel +The last fit of my greatness,--good your graces, +Let me have time and counsel for my cause: +Alas, I am a woman, friendless, hopeless! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wrong the king's love with these fears: +Your hopes and friends are infinite. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +In England +But little for my profit: can you think, lords, +That any Englishman dare give me counsel? +Or be a known friend, 'gainst his highness' pleasure, +Though he be grown so desperate to be honest, +And live a subject? Nay, forsooth, my friends, +They that must weigh out my afflictions, +They that my trust must grow to, live not here: +They are, as all my other comforts, far hence +In mine own country, lords. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +I would your grace +Would leave your griefs, and take my counsel. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +How, sir? + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Put your main cause into the king's protection; +He's loving and most gracious: 'twill be much +Both for your honour better and your cause; +For if the trial of the law o'ertake ye, +You'll part away disgraced. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +He tells you rightly. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye tell me what ye wish for both,--my ruin: +Is this your Christian counsel? out upon ye! +Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge +That no king can corrupt. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your rage mistakes us. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +The more shame for ye: holy men I thought ye, +Upon my soul, two reverend cardinal virtues; +But cardinal sins and hollow hearts I fear ye: +Mend 'em, for shame, my lords. Is this your comfort? +The cordial that ye bring a wretched lady, +A woman lost among ye, laugh'd at, scorn'd? +I will not wish ye half my miseries; +I have more charity: but say, I warn'd ye; +Take heed, for heaven's sake, take heed, lest at once +The burthen of my sorrows fall upon ye. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, this is a mere distraction; +You turn the good we offer into envy. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Ye turn me into nothing: woe upon ye +And all such false professors! would you have me-- +If you have any justice, any pity; +If ye be any thing but churchmen's habits-- +Put my sick cause into his hands that hates me? +Alas, has banish'd me his bed already, +His love, too long ago! I am old, my lords, +And all the fellowship I hold now with him +Is only my obedience. What can happen +To me above this wretchedness? all your studies +Make me a curse like this. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Your fears are worse. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Have I lived thus long--let me speak myself, +Since virtue finds no friends--a wife, a true one? +A woman, I dare say without vain-glory, +Never yet branded with suspicion? +Have I with all my full affections +Still met the king? loved him next heaven? +obey'd him? +Been, out of fondness, superstitious to him? +Almost forgot my prayers to content him? +And am I thus rewarded? 'tis not well, lords. +Bring me a constant woman to her husband, +One that ne'er dream'd a joy beyond his pleasure; +And to that woman, when she has done most, +Yet will I add an honour, a great patience. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Madam, you wander from the good we aim at. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +My lord, I dare not make myself so guilty, +To give up willingly that noble title +Your master wed me to: nothing but death +Shall e'er divorce my dignities. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Pray, hear me. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Would I had never trod this English earth, +Or felt the flatteries that grow upon it! +Ye have angels' faces, but heaven knows your hearts. +What will become of me now, wretched lady! +I am the most unhappy woman living. +Alas, poor wenches, where are now your fortunes! +Shipwreck'd upon a kingdom, where no pity, +No friend, no hope; no kindred weep for me; +Almost no grave allow'd me: like the lily, +That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, +I'll hang my head and perish. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +If your grace +Could but be brought to know our ends are honest, +You'ld feel more comfort: why should we, good lady, +Upon what cause, wrong you? alas, our places, +The way of our profession is against it: +We are to cure such sorrows, not to sow 'em. +For goodness' sake, consider what you do; +How you may hurt yourself, ay, utterly +Grow from the king's acquaintance, by this carriage. +The hearts of princes kiss obedience, +So much they love it; but to stubborn spirits +They swell, and grow as terrible as storms. +I know you have a gentle, noble temper, +A soul as even as a calm: pray, think us +Those we profess, peace-makers, friends, and servants. + +CARDINAL CAMPEIUS +Madam, you'll find it so. You wrong your virtues +With these weak women's fears: a noble spirit, +As yours was put into you, ever casts +Such doubts, as false coin, from it. The king loves you; +Beware you lose it not: for us, if you please +To trust us in your business, we are ready +To use our utmost studies in your service. + +QUEEN KATHARINE +Do what ye will, my lords: and, pray, forgive me, +If I have used myself unmannerly; +You know I am a woman, lacking wit +To make a seemly answer to such persons. +Pray, do my service to his majesty: +He has my heart yet; and shall have my prayers +While I shall have my life. Come, reverend fathers, +Bestow your counsels on me: she now begs, +That little thought, when she set footing here, +She should have bought her dignities so dear. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Ante-chamber to KING HENRY VIII's apartment. + +Enter NORFOLK, SUFFOLK, SURREY, and Chamberlain +NORFOLK +If you will now unite in your complaints, +And force them with a constancy, the cardinal +Cannot stand under them: if you omit +The offer of this time, I cannot promise +But that you shall sustain moe new disgraces, +With these you bear already. + +SURREY +I am joyful +To meet the least occasion that may give me +Remembrance of my father-in-law, the duke, +To be revenged on him. + +SUFFOLK +Which of the peers +Have uncontemn'd gone by him, or at least +Strangely neglected? when did he regard +The stamp of nobleness in any person +Out of himself? + +Chamberlain +My lords, you speak your pleasures: +What he deserves of you and me I know; +What we can do to him, though now the time +Gives way to us, I much fear. If you cannot +Bar his access to the king, never attempt +Any thing on him; for he hath a witchcraft +Over the king in's tongue. + +NORFOLK +O, fear him not; +His spell in that is out: the king hath found +Matter against him that for ever mars +The honey of his language. No, he's settled, +Not to come off, in his displeasure. + +SURREY +Sir, +I should be glad to hear such news as this +Once every hour. + +NORFOLK +Believe it, this is true: +In the divorce his contrary proceedings +Are all unfolded wherein he appears +As I would wish mine enemy. + +SURREY +How came +His practises to light? + +SUFFOLK +Most strangely. + +SURREY +O, how, how? + +SUFFOLK +The cardinal's letters to the pope miscarried, +And came to the eye o' the king: wherein was read, +How that the cardinal did entreat his holiness +To stay the judgment o' the divorce; for if +It did take place, 'I do,' quoth he, 'perceive +My king is tangled in affection to +A creature of the queen's, Lady Anne Bullen.' + +SURREY +Has the king this? + +SUFFOLK +Believe it. + +SURREY +Will this work? + +Chamberlain +The king in this perceives him, how he coasts +And hedges his own way. But in this point +All his tricks founder, and he brings his physic +After his patient's death: the king already +Hath married the fair lady. + +SURREY +Would he had! + +SUFFOLK +May you be happy in your wish, my lord +For, I profess, you have it. + +SURREY +Now, all my joy +Trace the conjunction! + +SUFFOLK +My amen to't! + +NORFOLK +All men's! + +SUFFOLK +There's order given for her coronation: +Marry, this is yet but young, and may be left +To some ears unrecounted. But, my lords, +She is a gallant creature, and complete +In mind and feature: I persuade me, from her +Will fall some blessing to this land, which shall +In it be memorised. + +SURREY +But, will the king +Digest this letter of the cardinal's? +The Lord forbid! + +NORFOLK +Marry, amen! + +SUFFOLK +No, no; +There be moe wasps that buzz about his nose +Will make this sting the sooner. Cardinal Campeius +Is stol'n away to Rome; hath ta'en no leave; +Has left the cause o' the king unhandled; and +Is posted, as the agent of our cardinal, +To second all his plot. I do assure you +The king cried Ha! at this. + +Chamberlain +Now, God incense him, +And let him cry Ha! louder! + +NORFOLK +But, my lord, +When returns Cranmer? + +SUFFOLK +He is return'd in his opinions; which +Have satisfied the king for his divorce, +Together with all famous colleges +Almost in Christendom: shortly, I believe, +His second marriage shall be publish'd, and +Her coronation. Katharine no more +Shall be call'd queen, but princess dowager +And widow to Prince Arthur. + +NORFOLK +This same Cranmer's +A worthy fellow, and hath ta'en much pain +In the king's business. + +SUFFOLK +He has; and we shall see him +For it an archbishop. + +NORFOLK +So I hear. + +SUFFOLK +'Tis so. +The cardinal! + +Enter CARDINAL WOLSEY and CROMWELL + +NORFOLK +Observe, observe, he's moody. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +The packet, Cromwell. +Gave't you the king? + +CROMWELL +To his own hand, in's bedchamber. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Look'd he o' the inside of the paper? + +CROMWELL +Presently +He did unseal them: and the first he view'd, +He did it with a serious mind; a heed +Was in his countenance. You he bade +Attend him here this morning. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Is he ready +To come abroad? + +CROMWELL +I think, by this he is. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Leave me awhile. + +Exit CROMWELL + +Aside + +It shall be to the Duchess of Alencon, +The French king's sister: he shall marry her. +Anne Bullen! No; I'll no Anne Bullens for him: +There's more in't than fair visage. Bullen! +No, we'll no Bullens. Speedily I wish +To hear from Rome. The Marchioness of Pembroke! + +NORFOLK +He's discontented. + +SUFFOLK +May be, he hears the king +Does whet his anger to him. + +SURREY +Sharp enough, +Lord, for thy justice! + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] The late queen's gentlewoman, +a knight's daughter, +To be her mistress' mistress! the queen's queen! +This candle burns not clear: 'tis I must snuff it; +Then out it goes. What though I know her virtuous +And well deserving? yet I know her for +A spleeny Lutheran; and not wholesome to +Our cause, that she should lie i' the bosom of +Our hard-ruled king. Again, there is sprung up +An heretic, an arch one, Cranmer; one +Hath crawl'd into the favour of the king, +And is his oracle. + +NORFOLK +He is vex'd at something. + +SURREY +I would 'twere something that would fret the string, +The master-cord on's heart! + +Enter KING HENRY VIII, reading of a schedule, and LOVELL + +SUFFOLK +The king, the king! + +KING HENRY VIII +What piles of wealth hath he accumulated +To his own portion! and what expense by the hour +Seems to flow from him! How, i' the name of thrift, +Does he rake this together! Now, my lords, +Saw you the cardinal? + +NORFOLK +My lord, we have +Stood here observing him: some strange commotion +Is in his brain: he bites his lip, and starts; +Stops on a sudden, looks upon the ground, +Then lays his finger on his temple, straight +Springs out into fast gait; then stops again, +Strikes his breast hard, and anon he casts +His eye against the moon: in most strange postures +We have seen him set himself. + +KING HENRY VIII +It may well be; +There is a mutiny in's mind. This morning +Papers of state he sent me to peruse, +As I required: and wot you what I found +There,--on my conscience, put unwittingly? +Forsooth, an inventory, thus importing; +The several parcels of his plate, his treasure, +Rich stuffs, and ornaments of household; which +I find at such proud rate, that it out-speaks +Possession of a subject. + +NORFOLK +It's heaven's will: +Some spirit put this paper in the packet, +To bless your eye withal. + +KING HENRY VIII +If we did think +His contemplation were above the earth, +And fix'd on spiritual object, he should still +Dwell in his musings: but I am afraid +His thinkings are below the moon, not worth +His serious considering. + +King HENRY VIII takes his seat; whispers LOVELL, who goes to CARDINAL WOLSEY + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Heaven forgive me! +Ever God bless your highness! + +KING HENRY VIII +Good my lord, +You are full of heavenly stuff, and bear the inventory +Of your best graces in your mind; the which +You were now running o'er: you have scarce time +To steal from spiritual leisure a brief span +To keep your earthly audit: sure, in that +I deem you an ill husband, and am glad +To have you therein my companion. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +Sir, +For holy offices I have a time; a time +To think upon the part of business which +I bear i' the state; and nature does require +Her times of preservation, which perforce +I, her frail son, amongst my brethren mortal, +Must give my tendence to. + +KING HENRY VIII +You have said well. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +And ever may your highness yoke together, +As I will lend you cause, my doing well +With my well saying! + +KING HENRY VIII +'Tis well said again; +And 'tis a kind of good deed to say well: +And yet words are no deeds. My father loved you: +His said he did; and with his deed did crown +His word upon you. Since I had my office, +I have kept you next my heart; have not alone +Employ'd you where high profits might come home, +But pared my present havings, to bestow +My bounties upon you. + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +[Aside] What should this mean? + +SURREY +[Aside] The Lord increase this business! + +KING HENRY VIII +Have I not made you, +The prime man of the state? I pray you, tell me, +If what I now pronounce you have found true: +And, if you may confess it, say withal, +If you are bound to us or no. What say you? + +CARDINAL WOLSEY +My sovereign, I confess your royal graces, +Shower'd on me daily, have been more than could +My studied purposes requite; which went +Beyond all man's endeavours: my endeavours +Have ever come too short of my desires, +Yet filed with my abilities: mine own ends +Have been mine so that evermore they pointed +To the good of your most sacred person and +The profit of the state. For your great graces +Heap'd upon me, poor undeserver, I +Can nothing render but allegiant thanks, +My prayers to heaven for you, my loyalty, +Which ever has and ever shall be growing, +Till death, that winter, kill it. + +The Life and Death of King John +Shakespeare homepage | King John | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. KING JOHN'S palace. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, PEMBROKE, ESSEX, SALISBURY, and others, with CHATILLON +KING JOHN +Now, say, Chatillon, what would France with us? + +CHATILLON +Thus, after greeting, speaks the King of France +In my behavior to the majesty, +The borrow'd majesty, of England here. + +QUEEN ELINOR +A strange beginning: 'borrow'd majesty!' + +KING JOHN +Silence, good mother; hear the embassy. + +CHATILLON +Philip of France, in right and true behalf +Of thy deceased brother Geffrey's son, +Arthur Plantagenet, lays most lawful claim +To this fair island and the territories, +To Ireland, Poictiers, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +Desiring thee to lay aside the sword +Which sways usurpingly these several titles, +And put these same into young Arthur's hand, +Thy nephew and right royal sovereign. + +KING JOHN +What follows if we disallow of this? + +CHATILLON +The proud control of fierce and bloody war, +To enforce these rights so forcibly withheld. + +KING JOHN +Here have we war for war and blood for blood, +Controlment for controlment: so answer France. + +CHATILLON +Then take my king's defiance from my mouth, +The farthest limit of my embassy. + +KING JOHN +Bear mine to him, and so depart in peace: +Be thou as lightning in the eyes of France; +For ere thou canst report I will be there, +The thunder of my cannon shall be heard: +So hence! Be thou the trumpet of our wrath +And sullen presage of your own decay. +An honourable conduct let him have: +Pembroke, look to 't. Farewell, Chatillon. + +Exeunt CHATILLON and PEMBROKE + +QUEEN ELINOR +What now, my son! have I not ever said +How that ambitious Constance would not cease +Till she had kindled France and all the world, +Upon the right and party of her son? +This might have been prevented and made whole +With very easy arguments of love, +Which now the manage of two kingdoms must +With fearful bloody issue arbitrate. + +KING JOHN +Our strong possession and our right for us. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Your strong possession much more than your right, +Or else it must go wrong with you and me: +So much my conscience whispers in your ear, +Which none but heaven and you and I shall hear. + +Enter a Sheriff + +ESSEX +My liege, here is the strangest controversy +Come from country to be judged by you, +That e'er I heard: shall I produce the men? + +KING JOHN +Let them approach. +Our abbeys and our priories shall pay +This expedition's charge. + +Enter ROBERT and the BASTARD + +What men are you? + +BASTARD +Your faithful subject I, a gentleman +Born in Northamptonshire and eldest son, +As I suppose, to Robert Faulconbridge, +A soldier, by the honour-giving hand +Of Coeur-de-lion knighted in the field. + +KING JOHN +What art thou? + +ROBERT +The son and heir to that same Faulconbridge. + +KING JOHN +Is that the elder, and art thou the heir? +You came not of one mother then, it seems. + +BASTARD +Most certain of one mother, mighty king; +That is well known; and, as I think, one father: +But for the certain knowledge of that truth +I put you o'er to heaven and to my mother: +Of that I doubt, as all men's children may. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out on thee, rude man! thou dost shame thy mother +And wound her honour with this diffidence. + +BASTARD +I, madam? no, I have no reason for it; +That is my brother's plea and none of mine; +The which if he can prove, a' pops me out +At least from fair five hundred pound a year: +Heaven guard my mother's honour and my land! + +KING JOHN +A good blunt fellow. Why, being younger born, +Doth he lay claim to thine inheritance? + +BASTARD +I know not why, except to get the land. +But once he slander'd me with bastardy: +But whether I be as true begot or no, +That still I lay upon my mother's head, +But that I am as well begot, my liege,-- +Fair fall the bones that took the pains for me!-- +Compare our faces and be judge yourself. +If old sir Robert did beget us both +And were our father and this son like him, +O old sir Robert, father, on my knee +I give heaven thanks I was not like to thee! + +KING JOHN +Why, what a madcap hath heaven lent us here! + +QUEEN ELINOR +He hath a trick of Coeur-de-lion's face; +The accent of his tongue affecteth him. +Do you not read some tokens of my son +In the large composition of this man? + +KING JOHN +Mine eye hath well examined his parts +And finds them perfect Richard. Sirrah, speak, +What doth move you to claim your brother's land? + +BASTARD +Because he hath a half-face, like my father. +With half that face would he have all my land: +A half-faced groat five hundred pound a year! + +ROBERT +My gracious liege, when that my father lived, +Your brother did employ my father much,-- + +BASTARD +Well, sir, by this you cannot get my land: +Your tale must be how he employ'd my mother. + +ROBERT +And once dispatch'd him in an embassy +To Germany, there with the emperor +To treat of high affairs touching that time. +The advantage of his absence took the king +And in the mean time sojourn'd at my father's; +Where how he did prevail I shame to speak, +But truth is truth: large lengths of seas and shores +Between my father and my mother lay, +As I have heard my father speak himself, +When this same lusty gentleman was got. +Upon his death-bed he by will bequeath'd +His lands to me, and took it on his death +That this my mother's son was none of his; +And if he were, he came into the world +Full fourteen weeks before the course of time. +Then, good my liege, let me have what is mine, +My father's land, as was my father's will. + +KING JOHN +Sirrah, your brother is legitimate; +Your father's wife did after wedlock bear him, +And if she did play false, the fault was hers; +Which fault lies on the hazards of all husbands +That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother, +Who, as you say, took pains to get this son, +Had of your father claim'd this son for his? +In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept +This calf bred from his cow from all the world; +In sooth he might; then, if he were my brother's, +My brother might not claim him; nor your father, +Being none of his, refuse him: this concludes; +My mother's son did get your father's heir; +Your father's heir must have your father's land. + +ROBERT +Shall then my father's will be of no force +To dispossess that child which is not his? + +BASTARD +Of no more force to dispossess me, sir, +Than was his will to get me, as I think. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge +And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land, +Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion, +Lord of thy presence and no land beside? + +BASTARD +Madam, an if my brother had my shape, +And I had his, sir Robert's his, like him; +And if my legs were two such riding-rods, +My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin +That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose +Lest men should say 'Look, where three-farthings goes!' +And, to his shape, were heir to all this land, +Would I might never stir from off this place, +I would give it every foot to have this face; +I would not be sir Nob in any case. + +QUEEN ELINOR +I like thee well: wilt thou forsake thy fortune, +Bequeath thy land to him and follow me? +I am a soldier and now bound to France. + +BASTARD +Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance. +Your face hath got five hundred pound a year, +Yet sell your face for five pence and 'tis dear. +Madam, I'll follow you unto the death. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Nay, I would have you go before me thither. + +BASTARD +Our country manners give our betters way. + +KING JOHN +What is thy name? + +BASTARD +Philip, my liege, so is my name begun, +Philip, good old sir Robert's wife's eldest son. + +KING JOHN +From henceforth bear his name whose form thou bear'st: +Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great, +Arise sir Richard and Plantagenet. + +BASTARD +Brother by the mother's side, give me your hand: +My father gave me honour, yours gave land. +Now blessed by the hour, by night or day, +When I was got, sir Robert was away! + +QUEEN ELINOR +The very spirit of Plantagenet! +I am thy grandam, Richard; call me so. + +BASTARD +Madam, by chance but not by truth; what though? +Something about, a little from the right, +In at the window, or else o'er the hatch: +Who dares not stir by day must walk by night, +And have is have, however men do catch: +Near or far off, well won is still well shot, +And I am I, howe'er I was begot. + +KING JOHN +Go, Faulconbridge: now hast thou thy desire; +A landless knight makes thee a landed squire. +Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed +For France, for France, for it is more than need. + +BASTARD +Brother, adieu: good fortune come to thee! +For thou wast got i' the way of honesty. + +Exeunt all but BASTARD + +A foot of honour better than I was; +But many a many foot of land the worse. +Well, now can I make any Joan a lady. +'Good den, sir Richard!'--'God-a-mercy, fellow!'-- +And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; +For new-made honour doth forget men's names; +'Tis too respective and too sociable +For your conversion. Now your traveller, +He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, +And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, +Why then I suck my teeth and catechise +My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,' +Thus, leaning on mine elbow, I begin, +'I shall beseech you'--that is question now; +And then comes answer like an Absey book: +'O sir,' says answer, 'at your best command; +At your employment; at your service, sir;' +'No, sir,' says question, 'I, sweet sir, at yours:' +And so, ere answer knows what question would, +Saving in dialogue of compliment, +And talking of the Alps and Apennines, +The Pyrenean and the river Po, +It draws toward supper in conclusion so. +But this is worshipful society +And fits the mounting spirit like myself, +For he is but a bastard to the time +That doth not smack of observation; +And so am I, whether I smack or no; +And not alone in habit and device, +Exterior form, outward accoutrement, +But from the inward motion to deliver +Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth: +Which, though I will not practise to deceive, +Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn; +For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising. +But who comes in such haste in riding-robes? +What woman-post is this? hath she no husband +That will take pains to blow a horn before her? + +Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE and GURNEY + +O me! it is my mother. How now, good lady! +What brings you here to court so hastily? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Where is that slave, thy brother? where is he, +That holds in chase mine honour up and down? + +BASTARD +My brother Robert? old sir Robert's son? +Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man? +Is it sir Robert's son that you seek so? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy, +Sir Robert's son: why scorn'st thou at sir Robert? +He is sir Robert's son, and so art thou. + +BASTARD +James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile? + +GURNEY +Good leave, good Philip. + +BASTARD +Philip! sparrow: James, +There's toys abroad: anon I'll tell thee more. + +Exit GURNEY + +Madam, I was not old sir Robert's son: +Sir Robert might have eat his part in me +Upon Good-Friday and ne'er broke his fast: +Sir Robert could do well: marry, to confess, +Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it: +We know his handiwork: therefore, good mother, +To whom am I beholding for these limbs? +Sir Robert never holp to make this leg. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou conspired with thy brother too, +That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour? +What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave? + +BASTARD +Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like. +What! I am dubb'd! I have it on my shoulder. +But, mother, I am not sir Robert's son; +I have disclaim'd sir Robert and my land; +Legitimation, name and all is gone: +Then, good my mother, let me know my father; +Some proper man, I hope: who was it, mother? + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge? + +BASTARD +As faithfully as I deny the devil. + +LADY FAULCONBRIDGE +King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father: +By long and vehement suit I was seduced +To make room for him in my husband's bed: +Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge! +Thou art the issue of my dear offence, +Which was so strongly urged past my defence. + +BASTARD +Now, by this light, were I to get again, +Madam, I would not wish a better father. +Some sins do bear their privilege on earth, +And so doth yours; your fault was not your folly: +Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose, +Subjected tribute to commanding love, +Against whose fury and unmatched force +The aweless lion could not wage the fight, +Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand. +He that perforce robs lions of their hearts +May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother, +With all my heart I thank thee for my father! +Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well +When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell. +Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin; +And they shall say, when Richard me begot, +If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin: +Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. France. Before Angiers. + +Enter AUSTRIA and forces, drums, etc. on one side: on the other KING PHILIP and his power; LEWIS, ARTHUR, CONSTANCE and attendants +LEWIS +Before Angiers well met, brave Austria. +Arthur, that great forerunner of thy blood, +Richard, that robb'd the lion of his heart +And fought the holy wars in Palestine, +By this brave duke came early to his grave: +And for amends to his posterity, +At our importance hither is he come, +To spread his colours, boy, in thy behalf, +And to rebuke the usurpation +Of thy unnatural uncle, English John: +Embrace him, love him, give him welcome hither. + +ARTHUR +God shall forgive you Coeur-de-lion's death +The rather that you give his offspring life, +Shadowing their right under your wings of war: +I give you welcome with a powerless hand, +But with a heart full of unstained love: +Welcome before the gates of Angiers, duke. + +LEWIS +A noble boy! Who would not do thee right? + +AUSTRIA +Upon thy cheek lay I this zealous kiss, +As seal to this indenture of my love, +That to my home I will no more return, +Till Angiers and the right thou hast in France, +Together with that pale, that white-faced shore, +Whose foot spurns back the ocean's roaring tides +And coops from other lands her islanders, +Even till that England, hedged in with the main, +That water-walled bulwark, still secure +And confident from foreign purposes, +Even till that utmost corner of the west +Salute thee for her king: till then, fair boy, +Will I not think of home, but follow arms. + +CONSTANCE +O, take his mother's thanks, a widow's thanks, +Till your strong hand shall help to give him strength +To make a more requital to your love! + +AUSTRIA +The peace of heaven is theirs that lift their swords +In such a just and charitable war. + +KING PHILIP +Well then, to work: our cannon shall be bent +Against the brows of this resisting town. +Call for our chiefest men of discipline, +To cull the plots of best advantages: +We'll lay before this town our royal bones, +Wade to the market-place in Frenchmen's blood, +But we will make it subject to this boy. + +CONSTANCE +Stay for an answer to your embassy, +Lest unadvised you stain your swords with blood: +My Lord Chatillon may from England bring, +That right in peace which here we urge in war, +And then we shall repent each drop of blood +That hot rash haste so indirectly shed. + +Enter CHATILLON + +KING PHILIP +A wonder, lady! lo, upon thy wish, +Our messenger Chatillon is arrived! +What England says, say briefly, gentle lord; +We coldly pause for thee; Chatillon, speak. + +CHATILLON +Then turn your forces from this paltry siege +And stir them up against a mightier task. +England, impatient of your just demands, +Hath put himself in arms: the adverse winds, +Whose leisure I have stay'd, have given him time +To land his legions all as soon as I; +His marches are expedient to this town, +His forces strong, his soldiers confident. +With him along is come the mother-queen, +An Ate, stirring him to blood and strife; +With her her niece, the Lady Blanch of Spain; +With them a bastard of the king's deceased, +And all the unsettled humours of the land, +Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, +With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, +Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, +Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, +To make hazard of new fortunes here: +In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits +Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er +Did nearer float upon the swelling tide, +To do offence and scath in Christendom. + +Drum beats + +The interruption of their churlish drums +Cuts off more circumstance: they are at hand, +To parley or to fight; therefore prepare. + +KING PHILIP +How much unlook'd for is this expedition! + +AUSTRIA +By how much unexpected, by so much +We must awake endavour for defence; +For courage mounteth with occasion: +Let them be welcome then: we are prepared. + +Enter KING JOHN, QUEEN ELINOR, BLANCH, the BASTARD, Lords, and forces + +KING JOHN +Peace be to France, if France in peace permit +Our just and lineal entrance to our own; +If not, bleed France, and peace ascend to heaven, +Whiles we, God's wrathful agent, do correct +Their proud contempt that beats His peace to heaven. + +KING PHILIP +Peace be to England, if that war return +From France to England, there to live in peace. +England we love; and for that England's sake +With burden of our armour here we sweat. +This toil of ours should be a work of thine; +But thou from loving England art so far, +That thou hast under-wrought his lawful king +Cut off the sequence of posterity, +Out-faced infant state and done a rape +Upon the maiden virtue of the crown. +Look here upon thy brother Geffrey's face; +These eyes, these brows, were moulded out of his: +This little abstract doth contain that large +Which died in Geffrey, and the hand of time +Shall draw this brief into as huge a volume. +That Geffrey was thy elder brother born, +And this his son; England was Geffrey's right +And this is Geffrey's: in the name of God +How comes it then that thou art call'd a king, +When living blood doth in these temples beat, +Which owe the crown that thou o'ermasterest? + +KING JOHN +From whom hast thou this great commission, France, +To draw my answer from thy articles? + +KING PHILIP +From that supernal judge, that stirs good thoughts +In any breast of strong authority, +To look into the blots and stains of right: +That judge hath made me guardian to this boy: +Under whose warrant I impeach thy wrong +And by whose help I mean to chastise it. + +KING JOHN +Alack, thou dost usurp authority. + +KING PHILIP +Excuse; it is to beat usurping down. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Who is it thou dost call usurper, France? + +CONSTANCE +Let me make answer; thy usurping son. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Out, insolent! thy bastard shall be king, +That thou mayst be a queen, and cheque the world! + +CONSTANCE +My bed was ever to thy son as true +As thine was to thy husband; and this boy +Liker in feature to his father Geffrey +Than thou and John in manners; being as like +As rain to water, or devil to his dam. +My boy a bastard! By my soul, I think +His father never was so true begot: +It cannot be, an if thou wert his mother. + +QUEEN ELINOR +There's a good mother, boy, that blots thy father. + +CONSTANCE +There's a good grandam, boy, that would blot thee. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! + +BASTARD +Hear the crier. + +AUSTRIA +What the devil art thou? + +BASTARD +One that will play the devil, sir, with you, +An a' may catch your hide and you alone: +You are the hare of whom the proverb goes, +Whose valour plucks dead lions by the beard; +I'll smoke your skin-coat, an I catch you right; +Sirrah, look to't; i' faith, I will, i' faith. + +BLANCH +O, well did he become that lion's robe +That did disrobe the lion of that robe! + +BASTARD +It lies as sightly on the back of him +As great Alcides' shows upon an ass: +But, ass, I'll take that burthen from your back, +Or lay on that shall make your shoulders crack. + +AUSTRIA +What craker is this same that deafs our ears +With this abundance of superfluous breath? + +KING PHILIP +Lewis, determine what we shall do straight. + +LEWIS +Women and fools, break off your conference. +King John, this is the very sum of all; +England and Ireland, Anjou, Touraine, Maine, +In right of Arthur do I claim of thee: +Wilt thou resign them and lay down thy arms? + +KING JOHN +My life as soon: I do defy thee, France. +Arthur of Bretagne, yield thee to my hand; +And out of my dear love I'll give thee more +Than e'er the coward hand of France can win: +Submit thee, boy. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Come to thy grandam, child. + +CONSTANCE +Do, child, go to it grandam, child: +Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will +Give it a plum, a cherry, and a fig: +There's a good grandam. + +ARTHUR +Good my mother, peace! +I would that I were low laid in my grave: +I am not worth this coil that's made for me. + +QUEEN ELINOR +His mother shames him so, poor boy, he weeps. + +CONSTANCE +Now shame upon you, whether she does or no! +His grandam's wrongs, and not his mother's shames, +Draws those heaven-moving pearls from his poor eyes, +Which heaven shall take in nature of a fee; +Ay, with these crystal beads heaven shall be bribed +To do him justice and revenge on you. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou monstrous slanderer of heaven and earth! + +CONSTANCE +Thou monstrous injurer of heaven and earth! +Call not me slanderer; thou and thine usurp +The dominations, royalties and rights +Of this oppressed boy: this is thy eld'st son's son, +Infortunate in nothing but in thee: +Thy sins are visited in this poor child; +The canon of the law is laid on him, +Being but the second generation +Removed from thy sin-conceiving womb. + +KING JOHN +Bedlam, have done. + +CONSTANCE +I have but this to say, +That he is not only plagued for her sin, +But God hath made her sin and her the plague +On this removed issue, plague for her +And with her plague; her sin his injury, +Her injury the beadle to her sin, +All punish'd in the person of this child, +And all for her; a plague upon her! + +QUEEN ELINOR +Thou unadvised scold, I can produce +A will that bars the title of thy son. + +CONSTANCE +Ay, who doubts that? a will! a wicked will: +A woman's will; a canker'd grandam's will! + +KING PHILIP +Peace, lady! pause, or be more temperate: +It ill beseems this presence to cry aim +To these ill-tuned repetitions. +Some trumpet summon hither to the walls +These men of Angiers: let us hear them speak +Whose title they admit, Arthur's or John's. + +Trumpet sounds. Enter certain Citizens upon the walls + +First Citizen +Who is it that hath warn'd us to the walls? + +KING PHILIP +'Tis France, for England. + +KING JOHN +England, for itself. +You men of Angiers, and my loving subjects-- + +KING PHILIP +You loving men of Angiers, Arthur's subjects, +Our trumpet call'd you to this gentle parle-- + +KING JOHN +For our advantage; therefore hear us first. +These flags of France, that are advanced here +Before the eye and prospect of your town, +Have hither march'd to your endamagement: +The cannons have their bowels full of wrath, +And ready mounted are they to spit forth +Their iron indignation 'gainst your walls: +All preparation for a bloody siege +All merciless proceeding by these French +Confronts your city's eyes, your winking gates; +And but for our approach those sleeping stones, +That as a waist doth girdle you about, +By the compulsion of their ordinance +By this time from their fixed beds of lime +Had been dishabited, and wide havoc made +For bloody power to rush upon your peace. +But on the sight of us your lawful king, +Who painfully with much expedient march +Have brought a countercheque before your gates, +To save unscratch'd your city's threatened cheeks, +Behold, the French amazed vouchsafe a parle; +And now, instead of bullets wrapp'd in fire, +To make a shaking fever in your walls, +They shoot but calm words folded up in smoke, +To make a faithless error in your ears: +Which trust accordingly, kind citizens, +And let us in, your king, whose labour'd spirits, +Forwearied in this action of swift speed, +Crave harbourage within your city walls. + +KING PHILIP +When I have said, make answer to us both. +Lo, in this right hand, whose protection +Is most divinely vow'd upon the right +Of him it holds, stands young Plantagenet, +Son to the elder brother of this man, +And king o'er him and all that he enjoys: +For this down-trodden equity, we tread +In warlike march these greens before your town, +Being no further enemy to you +Than the constraint of hospitable zeal +In the relief of this oppressed child +Religiously provokes. Be pleased then +To pay that duty which you truly owe +To that owes it, namely this young prince: +And then our arms, like to a muzzled bear, +Save in aspect, hath all offence seal'd up; +Our cannons' malice vainly shall be spent +Against the invulnerable clouds of heaven; +And with a blessed and unvex'd retire, +With unhack'd swords and helmets all unbruised, +We will bear home that lusty blood again +Which here we came to spout against your town, +And leave your children, wives and you in peace. +But if you fondly pass our proffer'd offer, +'Tis not the roundure of your old-faced walls +Can hide you from our messengers of war, +Though all these English and their discipline +Were harbour'd in their rude circumference. +Then tell us, shall your city call us lord, +In that behalf which we have challenged it? +Or shall we give the signal to our rage +And stalk in blood to our possession? + +First Citizen +In brief, we are the king of England's subjects: +For him, and in his right, we hold this town. + +KING JOHN +Acknowledge then the king, and let me in. + +First Citizen +That can we not; but he that proves the king, +To him will we prove loyal: till that time +Have we ramm'd up our gates against the world. + +KING JOHN +Doth not the crown of England prove the king? +And if not that, I bring you witnesses, +Twice fifteen thousand hearts of England's breed,-- + +BASTARD +Bastards, and else. + +KING JOHN +To verify our title with their lives. + +KING PHILIP +As many and as well-born bloods as those,-- + +BASTARD +Some bastards too. + +KING PHILIP +Stand in his face to contradict his claim. + +First Citizen +Till you compound whose right is worthiest, +We for the worthiest hold the right from both. + +KING JOHN +Then God forgive the sin of all those souls +That to their everlasting residence, +Before the dew of evening fall, shall fleet, +In dreadful trial of our kingdom's king! + +KING PHILIP +Amen, amen! Mount, chevaliers! to arms! + +BASTARD +Saint George, that swinged the dragon, and e'er since +Sits on his horseback at mine hostess' door, +Teach us some fence! + +To AUSTRIA + +Sirrah, were I at home, +At your den, sirrah, with your lioness +I would set an ox-head to your lion's hide, +And make a monster of you. + +AUSTRIA +Peace! no more. + +BASTARD +O tremble, for you hear the lion roar. + +KING JOHN +Up higher to the plain; where we'll set forth +In best appointment all our regiments. + +BASTARD +Speed then, to take advantage of the field. + +KING PHILIP +It shall be so; and at the other hill +Command the rest to stand. God and our right! + +Exeunt + +Here after excursions, enter the Herald of France, with trumpets, to the gates + +French Herald +You men of Angiers, open wide your gates, +And let young Arthur, Duke of Bretagne, in, +Who by the hand of France this day hath made +Much work for tears in many an English mother, +Whose sons lie scattered on the bleeding ground; +Many a widow's husband grovelling lies, +Coldly embracing the discolour'd earth; +And victory, with little loss, doth play +Upon the dancing banners of the French, +Who are at hand, triumphantly display'd, +To enter conquerors and to proclaim +Arthur of Bretagne England's king and yours. + +Enter English Herald, with trumpet + +English Herald +Rejoice, you men of Angiers, ring your bells: +King John, your king and England's doth approach, +Commander of this hot malicious day: +Their armours, that march'd hence so silver-bright, +Hither return all gilt with Frenchmen's blood; +There stuck no plume in any English crest +That is removed by a staff of France; +Our colours do return in those same hands +That did display them when we first march'd forth; +And, like a troop of jolly huntsmen, come +Our lusty English, all with purpled hands, +Dyed in the dying slaughter of their foes: +Open your gates and gives the victors way. + +First Citizen +Heralds, from off our towers we might behold, +From first to last, the onset and retire +Of both your armies; whose equality +By our best eyes cannot be censured: +Blood hath bought blood and blows have answered blows; +Strength match'd with strength, and power confronted power: +Both are alike; and both alike we like. +One must prove greatest: while they weigh so even, +We hold our town for neither, yet for both. + +Re-enter KING JOHN and KING PHILIP, with their powers, severally + +KING JOHN +France, hast thou yet more blood to cast away? +Say, shall the current of our right run on? +Whose passage, vex'd with thy impediment, +Shall leave his native channel and o'erswell +With course disturb'd even thy confining shores, +Unless thou let his silver water keep +A peaceful progress to the ocean. + +KING PHILIP +England, thou hast not saved one drop of blood, +In this hot trial, more than we of France; +Rather, lost more. And by this hand I swear, +That sways the earth this climate overlooks, +Before we will lay down our just-borne arms, +We'll put thee down, 'gainst whom these arms we bear, +Or add a royal number to the dead, +Gracing the scroll that tells of this war's loss +With slaughter coupled to the name of kings. + +BASTARD +Ha, majesty! how high thy glory towers, +When the rich blood of kings is set on fire! +O, now doth Death line his dead chaps with steel; +The swords of soldiers are his teeth, his fangs; +And now he feasts, mousing the flesh of men, +In undetermined differences of kings. +Why stand these royal fronts amazed thus? +Cry, 'havoc!' kings; back to the stained field, +You equal potents, fiery kindled spirits! +Then let confusion of one part confirm +The other's peace: till then, blows, blood and death! + +KING JOHN +Whose party do the townsmen yet admit? + +KING PHILIP +Speak, citizens, for England; who's your king? + +First Citizen +The king of England; when we know the king. + +KING PHILIP +Know him in us, that here hold up his right. + +KING JOHN +In us, that are our own great deputy +And bear possession of our person here, +Lord of our presence, Angiers, and of you. + +First Citizen +A greater power then we denies all this; +And till it be undoubted, we do lock +Our former scruple in our strong-barr'd gates; +King'd of our fears, until our fears, resolved, +Be by some certain king purged and deposed. + +BASTARD +By heaven, these scroyles of Angiers flout you, kings, +And stand securely on their battlements, +As in a theatre, whence they gape and point +At your industrious scenes and acts of death. +Your royal presences be ruled by me: +Do like the mutines of Jerusalem, +Be friends awhile and both conjointly bend +Your sharpest deeds of malice on this town: +By east and west let France and England mount +Their battering cannon charged to the mouths, +Till their soul-fearing clamours have brawl'd down +The flinty ribs of this contemptuous city: +I'ld play incessantly upon these jades, +Even till unfenced desolation +Leave them as naked as the vulgar air. +That done, dissever your united strengths, +And part your mingled colours once again; +Turn face to face and bloody point to point; +Then, in a moment, Fortune shall cull forth +Out of one side her happy minion, +To whom in favour she shall give the day, +And kiss him with a glorious victory. +How like you this wild counsel, mighty states? +Smacks it not something of the policy? + +KING JOHN +Now, by the sky that hangs above our heads, +I like it well. France, shall we knit our powers +And lay this Angiers even to the ground; +Then after fight who shall be king of it? + +BASTARD +An if thou hast the mettle of a king, +Being wronged as we are by this peevish town, +Turn thou the mouth of thy artillery, +As we will ours, against these saucy walls; +And when that we have dash'd them to the ground, +Why then defy each other and pell-mell +Make work upon ourselves, for heaven or hell. + +KING PHILIP +Let it be so. Say, where will you assault? + +KING JOHN +We from the west will send destruction +Into this city's bosom. + +AUSTRIA +I from the north. + +KING PHILIP +Our thunder from the south +Shall rain their drift of bullets on this town. + +BASTARD +O prudent discipline! From north to south: +Austria and France shoot in each other's mouth: +I'll stir them to it. Come, away, away! + +First Citizen +Hear us, great kings: vouchsafe awhile to stay, +And I shall show you peace and fair-faced league; +Win you this city without stroke or wound; +Rescue those breathing lives to die in beds, +That here come sacrifices for the field: +Persever not, but hear me, mighty kings. + +KING JOHN +Speak on with favour; we are bent to hear. + +First Citizen +That daughter there of Spain, the Lady Blanch, +Is niece to England: look upon the years +Of Lewis the Dauphin and that lovely maid: +If lusty love should go in quest of beauty, +Where should he find it fairer than in Blanch? +If zealous love should go in search of virtue, +Where should he find it purer than in Blanch? +If love ambitious sought a match of birth, +Whose veins bound richer blood than Lady Blanch? +Such as she is, in beauty, virtue, birth, +Is the young Dauphin every way complete: +If not complete of, say he is not she; +And she again wants nothing, to name want, +If want it be not that she is not he: +He is the half part of a blessed man, +Left to be finished by such as she; +And she a fair divided excellence, +Whose fulness of perfection lies in him. +O, two such silver currents, when they join, +Do glorify the banks that bound them in; +And two such shores to two such streams made one, +Two such controlling bounds shall you be, kings, +To these two princes, if you marry them. +This union shall do more than battery can +To our fast-closed gates; for at this match, +With swifter spleen than powder can enforce, +The mouth of passage shall we fling wide ope, +And give you entrance: but without this match, +The sea enraged is not half so deaf, +Lions more confident, mountains and rocks +More free from motion, no, not Death himself +In moral fury half so peremptory, +As we to keep this city. + +BASTARD +Here's a stay +That shakes the rotten carcass of old Death +Out of his rags! Here's a large mouth, indeed, +That spits forth death and mountains, rocks and seas, +Talks as familiarly of roaring lions +As maids of thirteen do of puppy-dogs! +What cannoneer begot this lusty blood? +He speaks plain cannon fire, and smoke and bounce; +He gives the bastinado with his tongue: +Our ears are cudgell'd; not a word of his +But buffets better than a fist of France: +Zounds! I was never so bethump'd with words +Since I first call'd my brother's father dad. + +QUEEN ELINOR +Son, list to this conjunction, make this match; +Give with our niece a dowry large enough: +For by this knot thou shalt so surely tie +Thy now unsured assurance to the crown, +That yon green boy shall have no sun to ripe +The bloom that promiseth a mighty fruit. +I see a yielding in the looks of France; +Mark, how they whisper: urge them while their souls +Are capable of this ambition, +Lest zeal, now melted by the windy breath +Of soft petitions, pity and remorse, +Cool and congeal again to what it was. + +First Citizen +Why answer not the double majesties +This friendly treaty of our threaten'd town? + +KING PHILIP +Speak England first, that hath been forward first +To speak unto this city: what say you? + +KING JOHN +If that the Dauphin there, thy princely son, +Can in this book of beauty read 'I love,' +Her dowry shall weigh equal with a queen: +For Anjou and fair Touraine, Maine, Poictiers, +And all that we upon this side the sea, +Except this city now by us besieged, +Find liable to our crown and dignity, +Shall gild her bridal bed and make her rich +In titles, honours and promotions, +As she in beauty, education, blood, +Holds hand with any princess of the world. + +KING PHILIP +What say'st thou, boy? look in the lady's face. + +LEWIS +I do, my lord; and in her eye I find +A wonder, or a wondrous miracle, +The shadow of myself form'd in her eye: +Which being but the shadow of your son, +Becomes a sun and makes your son a shadow: +I do protest I never loved myself +Till now infixed I beheld myself +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye. + +Whispers with BLANCH + +BASTARD +Drawn in the flattering table of her eye! +Hang'd in the frowning wrinkle of her brow! +And quarter'd in her heart! he doth espy +Himself love's traitor: this is pity now, +That hang'd and drawn and quartered, there should be +In such a love so vile a lout as he. + +BLANCH +My uncle's will in this respect is mine: +If he see aught in you that makes him like, +That any thing he sees, which moves his liking, +I can with ease translate it to my will; +Or if you will, to speak more properly, +I will enforce it easily to my love. +Further I will not flatter you, my lord, +That all I see in you is worthy love, +Than this; that nothing do I see in you, +Though churlish thoughts themselves should be your judge, +That I can find should merit any hate. + +KING JOHN +What say these young ones? What say you my niece? + +BLANCH +That she is bound in honour still to do +What you in wisdom still vouchsafe to say. + +KING JOHN +Speak then, prince Dauphin; can you love this lady? + +LEWIS +Nay, ask me if I can refrain from love; +For I do love her most unfeignedly. + +KING JOHN +Then do I give Volquessen, Touraine, Maine, +Poictiers and Anjou, these five provinces, +With her to thee; and this addition more, +Full thirty thousand marks of English coin. +Philip of France, if thou be pleased withal, +Command thy son and daughter to join hands. + +KING PHILIP +It likes us well; young princes, close your hands. + +AUSTRIA +And your lips too; for I am well assured +That I did so when I was first assured. + +KING PHILIP +Now, citizens of Angiers, ope your gates, +Let in that amity which you have made; +For at Saint Mary's chapel presently +The rites of marriage shall be solemnized. +Is not the Lady Constance in this troop? +I know she is not, for this match made up +Her presence would have interrupted much: +Where is she and her son? tell me, who knows. + +LEWIS +She is sad and passionate at your highness' tent. + +KING PHILIP +And, by my faith, this league that we have made +Will give her sadness very little cure. +Brother of England, how may we content +This widow lady? In her right we came; +Which we, God knows, have turn'd another way, +To our own vantage. + +KING JOHN +We will heal up all; +For we'll create young Arthur Duke of Bretagne +And Earl of Richmond; and this rich fair town +We make him lord of. Call the Lady Constance; +Some speedy messenger bid her repair +To our solemnity: I trust we shall, +If not fill up the measure of her will, +Yet in some measure satisfy her so +That we shall stop her exclamation. +Go we, as well as haste will suffer us, +To this unlook'd for, unprepared pomp. + +Exeunt all but the BASTARD + +BASTARD +Mad world! mad kings! mad composition! +John, to stop Arthur's title in the whole, +Hath willingly departed with a part, +And France, whose armour conscience buckled on, +Whom zeal and charity brought to the field +As God's own soldier, rounded in the ear +With that same purpose-changer, that sly devil, +That broker, that still breaks the pate of faith, +That daily break-vow, he that wins of all, +Of kings, of beggars, old men, young men, maids, +Who, having no external thing to lose +But the word 'maid,' cheats the poor maid of that, +That smooth-faced gentleman, tickling Commodity, +Commodity, the bias of the world, +The world, who of itself is peised well, +Made to run even upon even ground, +Till this advantage, this vile-drawing bias, +This sway of motion, this Commodity, +Makes it take head from all indifferency, +From all direction, purpose, course, intent: +And this same bias, this Commodity, +This bawd, this broker, this all-changing word, +Clapp'd on the outward eye of fickle France, +Hath drawn him from his own determined aid, +From a resolved and honourable war, +To a most base and vile-concluded peace. +And why rail I on this Commodity? +But for because he hath not woo'd me yet: +Not that I have the power to clutch my hand, +When his fair angels would salute my palm; +But for my hand, as unattempted yet, +Like a poor beggar, raileth on the rich. +Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail +And say there is no sin but to be rich; +And being rich, my virtue then shall be +To say there is no vice but beggary. +Since kings break faith upon commodity, +Gain, be my lord, for I will worship thee. + +Exit + +The Life and Death of Richard the Second +Shakespeare homepage | Richard II | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD II's palace. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other Nobles and Attendants +KING RICHARD II +Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, +Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD II +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, +If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD II +Then call them to our presence; face to face, +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak: +High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befal +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness; +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown! + +KING RICHARD II +We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come; +Namely to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +First, heaven be the record to my speech! +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tendering the precious safety of my prince, +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence. +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, +And mark my greeting well; for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth, +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain; +The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hush'd and nought at all to say: +First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; +Which else would post until it had return'd +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him; +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain: +Which to maintain I would allow him odds, +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, +Or any other ground inhabitable, +Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. +Mean time let this defend my loyalty, +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the king, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: +By that and all the rites of knighthood else, +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +I take it up; and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree, +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: +And when I mount, alive may I not light, +If I be traitor or unjustly fight! + +KING RICHARD II +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true; +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was survey'd by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. +Further I say and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood: +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries, +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, +To me for justice and rough chastisement; +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD II +How high a pitch his resolution soars! +Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood, +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD II +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears: +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow, +Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul: +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou: +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account, +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen: +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not; but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case. +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honourable father to my foe +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul +But ere I last received the sacrament +I did confess it, and exactly begg'd +Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. +This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd, +It issues from the rancour of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor +Which in myself I boldly will defend; +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +To prove myself a loyal gentleman +Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. +In haste whereof, most heartily I pray +Your highness to assign our trial day. + +KING RICHARD II +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me; +Let's purge this choler without letting blood: +This we prescribe, though no physician; +Deep malice makes too deep incision; +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed; +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age: +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD II +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: +The one my duty owes; but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD II +Rage must be withstood: +Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Yea, but not change his spots: take but my shame. +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation: that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: +Take honour from me, and my life is done: +Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; +In that I live and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear, +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. + +Exit JOHN OF GAUNT + +KING RICHARD II +We were not born to sue, but to command; +Which since we cannot do to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day: +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate: +Since we can not atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry. +Lord marshal, command our officers at arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS +JOHN OF GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, +To stir against the butchers of his life! +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; +Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, +Or seven fair branches springing from one root: +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb, +That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death, +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair: +In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: +That which in mean men we intitle patience +Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully, +Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where then, alas, may I complain myself? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defence. + +DUCHESS +Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight: +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or, if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, +They may break his foaming courser's back, +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife +With her companion grief must end her life. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry: +As much good stay with thee as go with me! + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all:--nay, yet depart not so; +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there, +To seek out sorrow that dwells every where. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die: +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The lists at Coventry. + +Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE +Lord Marshal +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. + +Lord Marshal +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay +For nothing but his majesty's approach. + +The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms: +Ask him his name and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +In God's name and the king's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel: +Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; +As so defend thee heaven and thy valour! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk; +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me +And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me: +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armour, with a Herald + +KING RICHARD II +Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +Lord Marshal +What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby +Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, +To God of heaven, King Richard and to me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! + +Lord Marshal +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, +And bow my knee before his majesty: +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +Lord Marshal +The appellant in all duty greets your highness, +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD II +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight! +Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, +Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O let no noble eye profane a tear +For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you; +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: +O thou, the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, +Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, +And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous! +Be swift like lightning in the execution; +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive! + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just and upright gentleman: +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege, and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years: +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD II +Farewell, my lord: securely I espy +Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +Lord Marshal +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen. + +Lord Marshal +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. + +First Herald +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, +Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king and him; +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +Second Herald +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +Lord Marshal +Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. + +A charge sounded + +Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD II +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again: +Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. + +A long flourish + +Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; +Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood, +Therefore, we banish you our territories: +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done: this must my comfort be, +Sun that warms you here shall shine on me; +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD II +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile; +The hopeless word of 'never to return' +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your highness' hands. +The language I have learn'd these forty years, +My native English, now I must forego: +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony: +Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, +Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my gaoler to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now: +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? + +KING RICHARD II +It boots thee not to be compassionate: +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. + +KING RICHARD II +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God! +Embrace each other's love in banishment; +Nor never look upon each other's face; +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I swear. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +And I, to keep all this. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:-- +By this time, had the king permitted us, +One of our souls had wander'd in the air. +Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. + +THOMAS MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banish'd as from hence! +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know; +And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banish'd years +Pluck'd four away. + +To HENRY BOLINGBROKE + +Six frozen winter spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word: such is the breath of kings. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +I thank my liege, that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile: +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times about +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD II +Why uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD II +Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge; but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. +Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, +I was too strict to make mine own away; +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD II +Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so: +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +Lord Marshal +My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +What is six winters? they are quickly gone. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus; +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the king did banish thee, +But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit, +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour +And not the king exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime: +Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O, no! the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way: +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +HENRY BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; +My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The court. + +Enter KING RICHARD II, with BAGOT and GREEN at one door; and the DUKE OF AUMERLE at another +KING RICHARD II +We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD II +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD II +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +DUKE OF AUMERLE +'Farewell:' +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells; +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD II +He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green +Observed his courtship to the common people; +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' +As were our England in reversion his, +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD II +We will ourself in person to this war: +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are inforced to farm our royal realm; +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand: if that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants; +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +Enter BUSHY + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste +To entreat your majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD II +Where lies he? + +BUSHY +At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD II +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: +Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! + +All +Amen. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Ely House. + +Enter JOHN OF GAUNT sick, with the DUKE OF YORK, & c +JOHN OF GAUNT +Will the king come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +DUKE OF YORK +Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony: +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. +He that no more must say is listen'd more +Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; +More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before: +The setting sun, and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past: +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +DUKE OF YORK +No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, +Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose: +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder: +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall, +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home, +For Christian service and true chivalry, +As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, +Like to a tenement or pelting farm: +England, bound in with the triumphant sea +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds: +That England, that was wont to conquer others, +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +Enter KING RICHARD II and QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, LORD ROSS, and LORD WILLOUGHBY + +DUKE OF YORK +The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; +For young hot colts being raged do rage the more. + +QUEEN +How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD II +What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, +Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks; +And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. + +KING RICHARD II +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself: +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD II +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +JOHN OF GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD II +Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD II +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; +Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. +Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee: +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; +And yet, incaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd, +Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king: +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou-- + +KING RICHARD II +A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +JOHN OF GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son; +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused: +My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls! +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood: +Join with the present sickness that I have; +And thy unkindness be like crooked age, +To crop at once a too long wither'd flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be! +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: +Love they to live that love and honour have. + +Exit, borne off by his Attendants + +KING RICHARD II +And let them die that age and sullens have; +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +DUKE OF YORK +I do beseech your majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him: +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD II +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +Enter NORTHUMBERLAND + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. + +KING RICHARD II +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, nothing; all is said +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +DUKE OF YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD II +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, corn, revenues and moveables, +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. + +DUKE OF YORK +How long shall I be patient? ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment +Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, +Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours; +But when he frown'd, it was against the French +And not against his friends; his noble hand +Did will what he did spend and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won; +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD II +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +DUKE OF YORK +O my liege, +Pardon me, if you please; if n ot, I, pleased +Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patent that he hath +By his attorneys-general to sue +His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts +And prick my tender patience, to those thoughts +Which honour and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD II +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money and his lands. + +DUKE OF YORK +I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: +What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. + +Exit + +KING RICHARD II +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight: +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. To-morrow next +We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow: +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York lord governor of England; +For he is just and always loved us well. +Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part; +Be merry, for our time of stay is short + +Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II, QUEEN, DUKE OF AUMERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, and BAGOT + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +LORD ROSS +And living too; for now his son is duke. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +LORD ROSS +My heart is great; but it must break with silence, +Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man; +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +LORD ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him; +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many moe +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The king is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform, +Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, +That will the king severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +LORD ROSS +The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: +But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows: +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +LORD ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +LORD ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +LORD ROSS +We see the very wreck that we must suffer; +And unavoided is the danger now, +For suffering so the causes of our wreck. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +LORD ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland: +We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, +Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay +In Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint, +All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the king for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh; +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +LORD ROSS +To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. + +LORD WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT +BUSHY +Madam, your majesty is too much sad: +You promised, when you parted with the king, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the king I did; to please myself +I cannot do it; yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks, +Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves, +More than with parting from my lord the king. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, +Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; +For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects; +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail; +Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen; +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so; but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad +As, though on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief; mine is not so, +For nothing had begot my something grief; +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: +'Tis in reversion that I do possess; +But what it is, that is not yet known; what +I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. + +Enter GREEN + +GREEN +God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: +I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is; +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power, +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land: +The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN +Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, +And all the household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN +Who shall hinder me? +I will despair, and be at enmity +With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +Enter DUKE OF YORK + +GREEN +Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck: +O, full of careful business are his looks! +Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. + +DUKE OF YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: +Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off, +Whilst others come to make him lose at home: +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +DUKE OF YORK +He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! +The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: +Hold, take my ring. + +Servant +My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, +To-day, as I came by, I called there; +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +DUKE OF YORK +What is't, knave? + +Servant +An hour before I came, the duchess died. + +DUKE OF YORK +God for his mercy! what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do: I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The king had cut off my head with my brother's. +What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars? +Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me. +Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts +And bring away the armour that is there. + +Exit Servant + +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen: +The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; the other again +Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll +Dispose of you. +Gentlemen, go, muster up your men, +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too; +But time will not permit: all is uneven, +And every thing is left at six and seven. + +Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the king in love +Is near the hate of those love not the king. + +BAGOT +And that's the wavering commons: for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. + +BAGOT +If judgement lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the king. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle: +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you; for little office +The hateful commons will perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No; I will to Ireland to his majesty. +Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, +We three here art that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes +Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry: +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +The Life and Death of Richard the Third +Shakespeare homepage | Richard III | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. London. A street. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, solus +GLOUCESTER +Now is the winter of our discontent +Made glorious summer by this sun of York; +And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house +In the deep bosom of the ocean buried. +Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; +Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; +Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, +Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. +Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front; +And now, instead of mounting barded steeds +To fright the souls of fearful adversaries, +He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber +To the lascivious pleasing of a lute. +But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks, +Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass; +I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty +To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; +I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, +Cheated of feature by dissembling nature, +Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time +Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, +And that so lamely and unfashionable +That dogs bark at me as I halt by them; +Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace, +Have no delight to pass away the time, +Unless to spy my shadow in the sun +And descant on mine own deformity: +And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, +To entertain these fair well-spoken days, +I am determined to prove a villain +And hate the idle pleasures of these days. +Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous, +By drunken prophecies, libels and dreams, +To set my brother Clarence and the king +In deadly hate the one against the other: +And if King Edward be as true and just +As I am subtle, false and treacherous, +This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up, +About a prophecy, which says that 'G' +Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be. +Dive, thoughts, down to my soul: here +Clarence comes. + +Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY + +Brother, good day; what means this armed guard +That waits upon your grace? + +CLARENCE +His majesty +Tendering my person's safety, hath appointed +This conduct to convey me to the Tower. + +GLOUCESTER +Upon what cause? + +CLARENCE +Because my name is George. + +GLOUCESTER +Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours; +He should, for that, commit your godfathers: +O, belike his majesty hath some intent +That you shall be new-christen'd in the Tower. +But what's the matter, Clarence? may I know? + +CLARENCE +Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest +As yet I do not: but, as I can learn, +He hearkens after prophecies and dreams; +And from the cross-row plucks the letter G. +And says a wizard told him that by G +His issue disinherited should be; +And, for my name of George begins with G, +It follows in his thought that I am he. +These, as I learn, and such like toys as these +Have moved his highness to commit me now. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, this it is, when men are ruled by women: +'Tis not the king that sends you to the Tower: +My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she +That tempers him to this extremity. +Was it not she and that good man of worship, +Anthony Woodville, her brother there, +That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower, +From whence this present day he is deliver'd? +We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe. + +CLARENCE +By heaven, I think there's no man is secure +But the queen's kindred and night-walking heralds +That trudge betwixt the king and Mistress Shore. +Heard ye not what an humble suppliant +Lord hastings was to her for his delivery? + +GLOUCESTER +Humbly complaining to her deity +Got my lord chamberlain his liberty. +I'll tell you what; I think it is our way, +If we will keep in favour with the king, +To be her men and wear her livery: +The jealous o'erworn widow and herself, +Since that our brother dubb'd them gentlewomen. +Are mighty gossips in this monarchy. + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your graces both to pardon me; +His majesty hath straitly given in charge +That no man shall have private conference, +Of what degree soever, with his brother. + +GLOUCESTER +Even so; an't please your worship, Brakenbury, +You may partake of any thing we say: +We speak no treason, man: we say the king +Is wise and virtuous, and his noble queen +Well struck in years, fair, and not jealous; +We say that Shore's wife hath a pretty foot, +A cherry lip, a bonny eye, a passing pleasing tongue; +And that the queen's kindred are made gentle-folks: +How say you sir? Can you deny all this? + +BRAKENBURY +With this, my lord, myself have nought to do. + +GLOUCESTER +Naught to do with mistress Shore! I tell thee, fellow, +He that doth naught with her, excepting one, +Were best he do it secretly, alone. + +BRAKENBURY +What one, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +Her husband, knave: wouldst thou betray me? + +BRAKENBURY +I beseech your grace to pardon me, and withal +Forbear your conference with the noble duke. + +CLARENCE +We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will obey. + +GLOUCESTER +We are the queen's abjects, and must obey. +Brother, farewell: I will unto the king; +And whatsoever you will employ me in, +Were it to call King Edward's widow sister, +I will perform it to enfranchise you. +Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood +Touches me deeper than you can imagine. + +CLARENCE +I know it pleaseth neither of us well. + +GLOUCESTER +Well, your imprisonment shall not be long; +Meantime, have patience. + +CLARENCE +I must perforce. Farewell. + +Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and Guard + +GLOUCESTER +Go, tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return. +Simple, plain Clarence! I do love thee so, +That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven, +If heaven will take the present at our hands. +But who comes here? the new-deliver'd Hastings? + +Enter HASTINGS + +HASTINGS +Good time of day unto my gracious lord! + +GLOUCESTER +As much unto my good lord chamberlain! +Well are you welcome to the open air. +How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment? + +HASTINGS +With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must: +But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks +That were the cause of my imprisonment. + +GLOUCESTER +No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too; +For they that were your enemies are his, +And have prevail'd as much on him as you. + +HASTINGS +More pity that the eagle should be mew'd, +While kites and buzzards prey at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +What news abroad? + +HASTINGS +No news so bad abroad as this at home; +The King is sickly, weak and melancholy, +And his physicians fear him mightily. + +GLOUCESTER +Now, by Saint Paul, this news is bad indeed. +O, he hath kept an evil diet long, +And overmuch consumed his royal person: +'Tis very grievous to be thought upon. +What, is he in his bed? + +HASTINGS +He is. + +GLOUCESTER +Go you before, and I will follow you. + +Exit HASTINGS + +He cannot live, I hope; and must not die +Till George be pack'd with post-horse up to heaven. +I'll in, to urge his hatred more to Clarence, +With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments; +And, if I fall not in my deep intent, +Clarence hath not another day to live: +Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy, +And leave the world for me to bustle in! +For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter. +What though I kill'd her husband and her father? +The readiest way to make the wench amends +Is to become her husband and her father: +The which will I; not all so much for love +As for another secret close intent, +By marrying her which I must reach unto. +But yet I run before my horse to market: +Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns: +When they are gone, then must I count my gains. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. Another street. + +Enter the corpse of KING HENRY the Sixth, Gentlemen with halberds to guard it; LADY ANNE being the mourner +LADY ANNE +Set down, set down your honourable load, +If honour may be shrouded in a hearse, +Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament +The untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster. +Poor key-cold figure of a holy king! +Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster! +Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood! +Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost, +To hear the lamentations of Poor Anne, +Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughter'd son, +Stabb'd by the selfsame hand that made these wounds! +Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life, +I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes. +Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes! +Cursed be the heart that had the heart to do it! +Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence! +More direful hap betide that hated wretch, +That makes us wretched by the death of thee, +Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads, +Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives! +If ever he have child, abortive be it, +Prodigious, and untimely brought to light, +Whose ugly and unnatural aspect +May fright the hopeful mother at the view; +And that be heir to his unhappiness! +If ever he have wife, let her he made +A miserable by the death of him +As I am made by my poor lord and thee! +Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load, +Taken from Paul's to be interred there; +And still, as you are weary of the weight, +Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down. + +LADY ANNE +What black magician conjures up this fiend, +To stop devoted charitable deeds? + +GLOUCESTER +Villains, set down the corse; or, by Saint Paul, +I'll make a corse of him that disobeys. + +Gentleman +My lord, stand back, and let the coffin pass. + +GLOUCESTER +Unmanner'd dog! stand thou, when I command: +Advance thy halbert higher than my breast, +Or, by Saint Paul, I'll strike thee to my foot, +And spurn upon thee, beggar, for thy boldness. + +LADY ANNE +What, do you tremble? are you all afraid? +Alas, I blame you not; for you are mortal, +And mortal eyes cannot endure the devil. +Avaunt, thou dreadful minister of hell! +Thou hadst but power over his mortal body, +His soul thou canst not have; therefore be gone. + +GLOUCESTER +Sweet saint, for charity, be not so curst. + +LADY ANNE +Foul devil, for God's sake, hence, and trouble us not; +For thou hast made the happy earth thy hell, +Fill'd it with cursing cries and deep exclaims. +If thou delight to view thy heinous deeds, +Behold this pattern of thy butcheries. +O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry's wounds +Open their congeal'd mouths and bleed afresh! +Blush, Blush, thou lump of foul deformity; +For 'tis thy presence that exhales this blood +From cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells; +Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural, +Provokes this deluge most unnatural. +O God, which this blood madest, revenge his death! +O earth, which this blood drink'st revenge his death! +Either heaven with lightning strike the +murderer dead, +Or earth, gape open wide and eat him quick, +As thou dost swallow up this good king's blood +Which his hell-govern'd arm hath butchered! + +GLOUCESTER +Lady, you know no rules of charity, +Which renders good for bad, blessings for curses. + +LADY ANNE +Villain, thou know'st no law of God nor man: +No beast so fierce but knows some touch of pity. + +GLOUCESTER +But I know none, and therefore am no beast. + +LADY ANNE +O wonderful, when devils tell the truth! + +GLOUCESTER +More wonderful, when angels are so angry. +Vouchsafe, divine perfection of a woman, +Of these supposed-evils, to give me leave, +By circumstance, but to acquit myself. + +LADY ANNE +Vouchsafe, defused infection of a man, +For these known evils, but to give me leave, +By circumstance, to curse thy cursed self. + +GLOUCESTER +Fairer than tongue can name thee, let me have +Some patient leisure to excuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +Fouler than heart can think thee, thou canst make +No excuse current, but to hang thyself. + +GLOUCESTER +By such despair, I should accuse myself. + +LADY ANNE +And, by despairing, shouldst thou stand excused; +For doing worthy vengeance on thyself, +Which didst unworthy slaughter upon others. + +GLOUCESTER +Say that I slew them not? + +LADY ANNE +Why, then they are not dead: +But dead they are, and devilish slave, by thee. + +GLOUCESTER +I did not kill your husband. + +LADY ANNE +Why, then he is alive. + +GLOUCESTER +Nay, he is dead; and slain by Edward's hand. + +LADY ANNE +In thy foul throat thou liest: Queen Margaret saw +Thy murderous falchion smoking in his blood; +The which thou once didst bend against her breast, +But that thy brothers beat aside the point. + +GLOUCESTER +I was provoked by her slanderous tongue, +which laid their guilt upon my guiltless shoulders. + +LADY ANNE +Thou wast provoked by thy bloody mind. +Which never dreamt on aught but butcheries: +Didst thou not kill this king? + +GLOUCESTER +I grant ye. + +LADY ANNE +Dost grant me, hedgehog? then, God grant me too +Thou mayst be damned for that wicked deed! +O, he was gentle, mild, and virtuous! + +GLOUCESTER +The fitter for the King of heaven, that hath him. + +LADY ANNE +He is in heaven, where thou shalt never come. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him thank me, that holp to send him thither; +For he was fitter for that place than earth. + +LADY ANNE +And thou unfit for any place but hell. + +GLOUCESTER +Yes, one place else, if you will hear me name it. + +LADY ANNE +Some dungeon. + +GLOUCESTER +Your bed-chamber. + +LADY ANNE +I'll rest betide the chamber where thou liest! + +GLOUCESTER +So will it, madam till I lie with you. + +LADY ANNE +I hope so. + +GLOUCESTER +I know so. But, gentle Lady Anne, +To leave this keen encounter of our wits, +And fall somewhat into a slower method, +Is not the causer of the timeless deaths +Of these Plantagenets, Henry and Edward, +As blameful as the executioner? + +LADY ANNE +Thou art the cause, and most accursed effect. + +GLOUCESTER +Your beauty was the cause of that effect; +Your beauty: which did haunt me in my sleep +To undertake the death of all the world, +So I might live one hour in your sweet bosom. + +LADY ANNE +If I thought that, I tell thee, homicide, +These nails should rend that beauty from my cheeks. + +GLOUCESTER +These eyes could never endure sweet beauty's wreck; +You should not blemish it, if I stood by: +As all the world is cheered by the sun, +So I by that; it is my day, my life. + +LADY ANNE +Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life! + +GLOUCESTER +Curse not thyself, fair creature thou art both. + +LADY ANNE +I would I were, to be revenged on thee. + +GLOUCESTER +It is a quarrel most unnatural, +To be revenged on him that loveth you. + +LADY ANNE +It is a quarrel just and reasonable, +To be revenged on him that slew my husband. + +GLOUCESTER +He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband, +Did it to help thee to a better husband. + +LADY ANNE +His better doth not breathe upon the earth. + +GLOUCESTER +He lives that loves thee better than he could. + +LADY ANNE +Name him. + +GLOUCESTER +Plantagenet. + +LADY ANNE +Why, that was he. + +GLOUCESTER +The selfsame name, but one of better nature. + +LADY ANNE +Where is he? + +GLOUCESTER +Here. + +She spitteth at him + +Why dost thou spit at me? + +LADY ANNE +Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake! + +GLOUCESTER +Never came poison from so sweet a place. + +LADY ANNE +Never hung poison on a fouler toad. +Out of my sight! thou dost infect my eyes. + +GLOUCESTER +Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine. + +LADY ANNE +Would they were basilisks, to strike thee dead! + +GLOUCESTER +I would they were, that I might die at once; +For now they kill me with a living death. +Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears, +Shamed their aspect with store of childish drops: +These eyes that never shed remorseful tear, +No, when my father York and Edward wept, +To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made +When black-faced Clifford shook his sword at him; +Nor when thy warlike father, like a child, +Told the sad story of my father's death, +And twenty times made pause to sob and weep, +That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks +Like trees bedash'd with rain: in that sad time +My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear; +And what these sorrows could not thence exhale, +Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping. +I never sued to friend nor enemy; +My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word; +But now thy beauty is proposed my fee, +My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak. + +She looks scornfully at him + +Teach not thy lips such scorn, for they were made +For kissing, lady, not for such contempt. +If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive, +Lo, here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword; +Which if thou please to hide in this true bosom. +And let the soul forth that adoreth thee, +I lay it naked to the deadly stroke, +And humbly beg the death upon my knee. + +He lays his breast open: she offers at it with his sword + +Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry, +But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me. +Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward, +But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on. + +Here she lets fall the sword + +Take up the sword again, or take up me. + +LADY ANNE +Arise, dissembler: though I wish thy death, +I will not be the executioner. + +GLOUCESTER +Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it. + +LADY ANNE +I have already. + +GLOUCESTER +Tush, that was in thy rage: +Speak it again, and, even with the word, +That hand, which, for thy love, did kill thy love, +Shall, for thy love, kill a far truer love; +To both their deaths thou shalt be accessary. + +LADY ANNE +I would I knew thy heart. + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis figured in my tongue. + +LADY ANNE +I fear me both are false. + +GLOUCESTER +Then never man was true. + +LADY ANNE +Well, well, put up your sword. + +GLOUCESTER +Say, then, my peace is made. + +LADY ANNE +That shall you know hereafter. + +GLOUCESTER +But shall I live in hope? + +LADY ANNE +All men, I hope, live so. + +GLOUCESTER +Vouchsafe to wear this ring. + +LADY ANNE +To take is not to give. + +GLOUCESTER +Look, how this ring encompasseth finger. +Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart; +Wear both of them, for both of them are thine. +And if thy poor devoted suppliant may +But beg one favour at thy gracious hand, +Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever. + +LADY ANNE +What is it? + +GLOUCESTER +That it would please thee leave these sad designs +To him that hath more cause to be a mourner, +And presently repair to Crosby Place; +Where, after I have solemnly interr'd +At Chertsey monastery this noble king, +And wet his grave with my repentant tears, +I will with all expedient duty see you: +For divers unknown reasons. I beseech you, +Grant me this boon. + +LADY ANNE +With all my heart; and much it joys me too, +To see you are become so penitent. +Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me. + +GLOUCESTER +Bid me farewell. + +LADY ANNE +'Tis more than you deserve; +But since you teach me how to flatter you, +Imagine I have said farewell already. + +Exeunt LADY ANNE, TRESSEL, and BERKELEY + +GLOUCESTER +Sirs, take up the corse. + +GENTLEMEN +Towards Chertsey, noble lord? + +GLOUCESTER +No, to White-Friars; there attend my coining. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +Was ever woman in this humour woo'd? +Was ever woman in this humour won? +I'll have her; but I will not keep her long. +What! I, that kill'd her husband and his father, +To take her in her heart's extremest hate, +With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes, +The bleeding witness of her hatred by; +Having God, her conscience, and these bars +against me, +And I nothing to back my suit at all, +But the plain devil and dissembling looks, +And yet to win her, all the world to nothing! +Ha! +Hath she forgot already that brave prince, +Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since, +Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury? +A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman, +Framed in the prodigality of nature, +Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal, +The spacious world cannot again afford +And will she yet debase her eyes on me, +That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince, +And made her widow to a woful bed? +On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety? +On me, that halt and am unshapen thus? +My dukedom to a beggarly denier, +I do mistake my person all this while: +Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot, +Myself to be a marvellous proper man. +I'll be at charges for a looking-glass, +And entertain some score or two of tailors, +To study fashions to adorn my body: +Since I am crept in favour with myself, +Will maintain it with some little cost. +But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave; +And then return lamenting to my love. +Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass, +That I may see my shadow as I pass. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The palace. + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, RIVERS, and GREY +RIVERS +Have patience, madam: there's no doubt his majesty +Will soon recover his accustom'd health. + +GREY +In that you brook it in, it makes him worse: +Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort, +And cheer his grace with quick and merry words. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +If he were dead, what would betide of me? + +RIVERS +No other harm but loss of such a lord. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The loss of such a lord includes all harm. + +GREY +The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son, +To be your comforter when he is gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, he is young and his minority +Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester, +A man that loves not me, nor none of you. + +RIVERS +Is it concluded that he shall be protector? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +It is determined, not concluded yet: +But so it must be, if the king miscarry. + +Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY + +GREY +Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby. + +BUCKINGHAM +Good time of day unto your royal grace! + +DERBY +God make your majesty joyful as you have been! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +The Countess Richmond, good my Lord of Derby. +To your good prayers will scarcely say amen. +Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife, +And loves not me, be you, good lord, assured +I hate not you for her proud arrogance. + +DERBY +I do beseech you, either not believe +The envious slanders of her false accusers; +Or, if she be accused in true report, +Bear with her weakness, which, I think proceeds +From wayward sickness, and no grounded malice. + +RIVERS +Saw you the king to-day, my Lord of Derby? + +DERBY +But now the Duke of Buckingham and I +Are come from visiting his majesty. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What likelihood of his amendment, lords? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, good hope; his grace speaks cheerfully. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +God grant him health! Did you confer with him? + +BUCKINGHAM +Madam, we did: he desires to make atonement +Betwixt the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers, +And betwixt them and my lord chamberlain; +And sent to warn them to his royal presence. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Would all were well! but that will never be +I fear our happiness is at the highest. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, HASTINGS, and DORSET + +GLOUCESTER +They do me wrong, and I will not endure it: +Who are they that complain unto the king, +That I, forsooth, am stern, and love them not? +By holy Paul, they love his grace but lightly +That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours. +Because I cannot flatter and speak fair, +Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive and cog, +Duck with French nods and apish courtesy, +I must be held a rancorous enemy. +Cannot a plain man live and think no harm, +But thus his simple truth must be abused +By silken, sly, insinuating Jacks? + +RIVERS +To whom in all this presence speaks your grace? + +GLOUCESTER +To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace. +When have I injured thee? when done thee wrong? +Or thee? or thee? or any of your faction? +A plague upon you all! His royal person,-- +Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-- +Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing-while, +But you must trouble him with lewd complaints. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the matter. +The king, of his own royal disposition, +And not provoked by any suitor else; +Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred, +Which in your outward actions shows itself +Against my kindred, brothers, and myself, +Makes him to send; that thereby he may gather +The ground of your ill-will, and so remove it. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot tell: the world is grown so bad, +That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch: +Since every Jack became a gentleman +There's many a gentle person made a Jack. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Come, come, we know your meaning, brother +Gloucester; +You envy my advancement and my friends': +God grant we never may have need of you! + +GLOUCESTER +Meantime, God grants that we have need of you: +Your brother is imprison'd by your means, +Myself disgraced, and the nobility +Held in contempt; whilst many fair promotions +Are daily given to ennoble those +That scarce, some two days since, were worth a noble. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +By Him that raised me to this careful height +From that contented hap which I enjoy'd, +I never did incense his majesty +Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been +An earnest advocate to plead for him. +My lord, you do me shameful injury, +Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects. + +GLOUCESTER +You may deny that you were not the cause +Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment. + +RIVERS +She may, my lord, for-- + +GLOUCESTER +She may, Lord Rivers! why, who knows not so? +She may do more, sir, than denying that: +She may help you to many fair preferments, +And then deny her aiding hand therein, +And lay those honours on your high deserts. +What may she not? She may, yea, marry, may she-- + +RIVERS +What, marry, may she? + +GLOUCESTER +What, marry, may she! marry with a king, +A bachelor, a handsome stripling too: +I wis your grandam had a worser match. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long borne +Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs: +By heaven, I will acquaint his majesty +With those gross taunts I often have endured. +I had rather be a country servant-maid +Than a great queen, with this condition, +To be thus taunted, scorn'd, and baited at: + +Enter QUEEN MARGARET, behind + +Small joy have I in being England's queen. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And lessen'd be that small, God, I beseech thee! +Thy honour, state and seat is due to me. + +GLOUCESTER +What! threat you me with telling of the king? +Tell him, and spare not: look, what I have said +I will avouch in presence of the king: +I dare adventure to be sent to the Tower. +'Tis time to speak; my pains are quite forgot. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Out, devil! I remember them too well: +Thou slewest my husband Henry in the Tower, +And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury. + +GLOUCESTER +Ere you were queen, yea, or your husband king, +I was a pack-horse in his great affairs; +A weeder-out of his proud adversaries, +A liberal rewarder of his friends: +To royalize his blood I spilt mine own. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Yea, and much better blood than his or thine. + +GLOUCESTER +In all which time you and your husband Grey +Were factious for the house of Lancaster; +And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband +In Margaret's battle at Saint Alban's slain? +Let me put in your minds, if you forget, +What you have been ere now, and what you are; +Withal, what I have been, and what I am. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A murderous villain, and so still thou art. + +GLOUCESTER +Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick; +Yea, and forswore himself,--which Jesu pardon!-- + +QUEEN MARGARET +Which God revenge! + +GLOUCESTER +To fight on Edward's party for the crown; +And for his meed, poor lord, he is mew'd up. +I would to God my heart were flint, like Edward's; +Or Edward's soft and pitiful, like mine +I am too childish-foolish for this world. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Hie thee to hell for shame, and leave the world, +Thou cacodemon! there thy kingdom is. + +RIVERS +My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days +Which here you urge to prove us enemies, +We follow'd then our lord, our lawful king: +So should we you, if you should be our king. + +GLOUCESTER +If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar: +Far be it from my heart, the thought of it! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +As little joy, my lord, as you suppose +You should enjoy, were you this country's king, +As little joy may you suppose in me. +That I enjoy, being the queen thereof. + +QUEEN MARGARET +A little joy enjoys the queen thereof; +For I am she, and altogether joyless. +I can no longer hold me patient. + +Advancing + +Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out +In sharing that which you have pill'd from me! +Which of you trembles not that looks on me? +If not, that, I being queen, you bow like subjects, +Yet that, by you deposed, you quake like rebels? +O gentle villain, do not turn away! + +GLOUCESTER +Foul wrinkled witch, what makest thou in my sight? + +QUEEN MARGARET +But repetition of what thou hast marr'd; +That will I make before I let thee go. + +GLOUCESTER +Wert thou not banished on pain of death? + +QUEEN MARGARET +I was; but I do find more pain in banishment +Than death can yield me here by my abode. +A husband and a son thou owest to me; +And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance: +The sorrow that I have, by right is yours, +And all the pleasures you usurp are mine. + +GLOUCESTER +The curse my noble father laid on thee, +When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper +And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes, +And then, to dry them, gavest the duke a clout +Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-- +His curses, then from bitterness of soul +Denounced against thee, are all fall'n upon thee; +And God, not we, hath plagued thy bloody deed. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +So just is God, to right the innocent. + +HASTINGS +O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe, +And the most merciless that e'er was heard of! + +RIVERS +Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported. + +DORSET +No man but prophesied revenge for it. + +BUCKINGHAM +Northumberland, then present, wept to see it. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What were you snarling all before I came, +Ready to catch each other by the throat, +And turn you all your hatred now on me? +Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven? +That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death, +Their kingdom's loss, my woful banishment, +Could all but answer for that peevish brat? +Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven? +Why, then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses! +If not by war, by surfeit die your king, +As ours by murder, to make him a king! +Edward thy son, which now is Prince of Wales, +For Edward my son, which was Prince of Wales, +Die in his youth by like untimely violence! +Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen, +Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self! +Long mayst thou live to wail thy children's loss; +And see another, as I see thee now, +Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine! +Long die thy happy days before thy death; +And, after many lengthen'd hours of grief, +Die neither mother, wife, nor England's queen! +Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by, +And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son +Was stabb'd with bloody daggers: God, I pray him, +That none of you may live your natural age, +But by some unlook'd accident cut off! + +GLOUCESTER +Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd hag! + +QUEEN MARGARET +And leave out thee? stay, dog, for thou shalt hear me. +If heaven have any grievous plague in store +Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee, +O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe, +And then hurl down their indignation +On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace! +The worm of conscience still begnaw thy soul! +Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest, +And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends! +No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine, +Unless it be whilst some tormenting dream +Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils! +Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog! +Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity +The slave of nature and the son of hell! +Thou slander of thy mother's heavy womb! +Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins! +Thou rag of honour! thou detested-- + +GLOUCESTER +Margaret. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Richard! + +GLOUCESTER +Ha! + +QUEEN MARGARET +I call thee not. + +GLOUCESTER +I cry thee mercy then, for I had thought +That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Why, so I did; but look'd for no reply. +O, let me make the period to my curse! + +GLOUCESTER +'Tis done by me, and ends in 'Margaret.' + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Thus have you breathed your curse against yourself. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Poor painted queen, vain flourish of my fortune! +Why strew'st thou sugar on that bottled spider, +Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about? +Fool, fool! thou whet'st a knife to kill thyself. +The time will come when thou shalt wish for me +To help thee curse that poisonous bunchback'd toad. + +HASTINGS +False-boding woman, end thy frantic curse, +Lest to thy harm thou move our patience. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Foul shame upon you! you have all moved mine. + +RIVERS +Were you well served, you would be taught your duty. + +QUEEN MARGARET +To serve me well, you all should do me duty, +Teach me to be your queen, and you my subjects: +O, serve me well, and teach yourselves that duty! + +DORSET +Dispute not with her; she is lunatic. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Peace, master marquess, you are malapert: +Your fire-new stamp of honour is scarce current. +O, that your young nobility could judge +What 'twere to lose it, and be miserable! +They that stand high have many blasts to shake them; +And if they fall, they dash themselves to pieces. + +GLOUCESTER +Good counsel, marry: learn it, learn it, marquess. + +DORSET +It toucheth you, my lord, as much as me. + +GLOUCESTER +Yea, and much more: but I was born so high, +Our aery buildeth in the cedar's top, +And dallies with the wind and scorns the sun. + +QUEEN MARGARET +And turns the sun to shade; alas! alas! +Witness my son, now in the shade of death; +Whose bright out-shining beams thy cloudy wrath +Hath in eternal darkness folded up. +Your aery buildeth in our aery's nest. +O God, that seest it, do not suffer it! +As it was won with blood, lost be it so! + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done! for shame, if not for charity. + +QUEEN MARGARET +Urge neither charity nor shame to me: +Uncharitably with me have you dealt, +And shamefully by you my hopes are butcher'd. +My charity is outrage, life my shame +And in that shame still live my sorrow's rage. + +BUCKINGHAM +Have done, have done. + +QUEEN MARGARET +O princely Buckingham I'll kiss thy hand, +In sign of league and amity with thee: +Now fair befal thee and thy noble house! +Thy garments are not spotted with our blood, +Nor thou within the compass of my curse. + +BUCKINGHAM +Nor no one here; for curses never pass +The lips of those that breathe them in the air. + +QUEEN MARGARET +I'll not believe but they ascend the sky, +And there awake God's gentle-sleeping peace. +O Buckingham, take heed of yonder dog! +Look, when he fawns, he bites; and when he bites, +His venom tooth will rankle to the death: +Have not to do with him, beware of him; +Sin, death, and hell have set their marks on him, +And all their ministers attend on him. + +GLOUCESTER +What doth she say, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Nothing that I respect, my gracious lord. + +QUEEN MARGARET +What, dost thou scorn me for my gentle counsel? +And soothe the devil that I warn thee from? +O, but remember this another day, +When he shall split thy very heart with sorrow, +And say poor Margaret was a prophetess! +Live each of you the subjects to his hate, +And he to yours, and all of you to God's! + +Exit + +HASTINGS +My hair doth stand on end to hear her curses. + +RIVERS +And so doth mine: I muse why she's at liberty. + +GLOUCESTER +I cannot blame her: by God's holy mother, +She hath had too much wrong; and I repent +My part thereof that I have done to her. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +I never did her any, to my knowledge. + +GLOUCESTER +But you have all the vantage of her wrong. +I was too hot to do somebody good, +That is too cold in thinking of it now. +Marry, as for Clarence, he is well repaid, +He is frank'd up to fatting for his pains +God pardon them that are the cause of it! + +RIVERS +A virtuous and a Christian-like conclusion, +To pray for them that have done scathe to us. + +GLOUCESTER +So do I ever: + +Aside + +being well-advised. +For had I cursed now, I had cursed myself. + +Enter CATESBY + +CATESBY +Madam, his majesty doth call for you, +And for your grace; and you, my noble lords. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Catesby, we come. Lords, will you go with us? + +RIVERS +Madam, we will attend your grace. + +Exeunt all but GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +I do the wrong, and first begin to brawl. +The secret mischiefs that I set abroach +I lay unto the grievous charge of others. +Clarence, whom I, indeed, have laid in darkness, +I do beweep to many simple gulls +Namely, to Hastings, Derby, Buckingham; +And say it is the queen and her allies +That stir the king against the duke my brother. +Now, they believe it; and withal whet me +To be revenged on Rivers, Vaughan, Grey: +But then I sigh; and, with a piece of scripture, +Tell them that God bids us do good for evil: +And thus I clothe my naked villany +With old odd ends stolen out of holy writ; +And seem a saint, when most I play the devil. + +Enter two Murderers + +But, soft! here come my executioners. +How now, my hardy, stout resolved mates! +Are you now going to dispatch this deed? + +First Murderer +We are, my lord; and come to have the warrant +That we may be admitted where he is. + +GLOUCESTER +Well thought upon; I have it here about me. + +Gives the warrant + +When you have done, repair to Crosby Place. +But, sirs, be sudden in the execution, +Withal obdurate, do not hear him plead; +For Clarence is well-spoken, and perhaps +May move your hearts to pity if you mark him. + +First Murderer +Tush! +Fear not, my lord, we will not stand to prate; +Talkers are no good doers: be assured +We come to use our hands and not our tongues. + +GLOUCESTER +Your eyes drop millstones, when fools' eyes drop tears: +I like you, lads; about your business straight; +Go, go, dispatch. + +First Murderer +We will, my noble lord. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. London. The Tower. + +Enter CLARENCE and BRAKENBURY +BRAKENBURY +Why looks your grace so heavily today? + +CLARENCE +O, I have pass'd a miserable night, +So full of ugly sights, of ghastly dreams, +That, as I am a Christian faithful man, +I would not spend another such a night, +Though 'twere to buy a world of happy days, +So full of dismal terror was the time! + +BRAKENBURY +What was your dream? I long to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +Methoughts that I had broken from the Tower, +And was embark'd to cross to Burgundy; +And, in my company, my brother Gloucester; +Who from my cabin tempted me to walk +Upon the hatches: thence we looked toward England, +And cited up a thousand fearful times, +During the wars of York and Lancaster +That had befall'n us. As we paced along +Upon the giddy footing of the hatches, +Methought that Gloucester stumbled; and, in falling, +Struck me, that thought to stay him, overboard, +Into the tumbling billows of the main. +Lord, Lord! methought, what pain it was to drown! +What dreadful noise of waters in mine ears! +What ugly sights of death within mine eyes! +Methought I saw a thousand fearful wrecks; +Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon; +Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl, +Inestimable stones, unvalued jewels, +All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea: +Some lay in dead men's skulls; and, in those holes +Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept, +As 'twere in scorn of eyes, reflecting gems, +Which woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep, +And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by. + +BRAKENBURY +Had you such leisure in the time of death +To gaze upon the secrets of the deep? + +CLARENCE +Methought I had; and often did I strive +To yield the ghost: but still the envious flood +Kept in my soul, and would not let it forth +To seek the empty, vast and wandering air; +But smother'd it within my panting bulk, +Which almost burst to belch it in the sea. + +BRAKENBURY +Awaked you not with this sore agony? + +CLARENCE +O, no, my dream was lengthen'd after life; +O, then began the tempest to my soul, +Who pass'd, methought, the melancholy flood, +With that grim ferryman which poets write of, +Unto the kingdom of perpetual night. +The first that there did greet my stranger soul, +Was my great father-in-law, renowned Warwick; +Who cried aloud, 'What scourge for perjury +Can this dark monarchy afford false Clarence?' +And so he vanish'd: then came wandering by +A shadow like an angel, with bright hair +Dabbled in blood; and he squeak'd out aloud, +'Clarence is come; false, fleeting, perjured Clarence, +That stabb'd me in the field by Tewksbury; +Seize on him, Furies, take him to your torments!' +With that, methoughts, a legion of foul fiends +Environ'd me about, and howled in mine ears +Such hideous cries, that with the very noise +I trembling waked, and for a season after +Could not believe but that I was in hell, +Such terrible impression made the dream. + +BRAKENBURY +No marvel, my lord, though it affrighted you; +I promise, I am afraid to hear you tell it. + +CLARENCE +O Brakenbury, I have done those things, +Which now bear evidence against my soul, +For Edward's sake; and see how he requites me! +O God! if my deep prayers cannot appease thee, +But thou wilt be avenged on my misdeeds, +Yet execute thy wrath in me alone, +O, spare my guiltless wife and my poor children! +I pray thee, gentle keeper, stay by me; +My soul is heavy, and I fain would sleep. + +BRAKENBURY +I will, my lord: God give your grace good rest! + +CLARENCE sleeps + +Sorrow breaks seasons and reposing hours, +Makes the night morning, and the noon-tide night. +Princes have but their tides for their glories, +An outward honour for an inward toil; +And, for unfelt imagination, +They often feel a world of restless cares: +So that, betwixt their tides and low names, +There's nothing differs but the outward fame. + +Enter the two Murderers + +First Murderer +Ho! who's here? + +BRAKENBURY +In God's name what are you, and how came you hither? + +First Murderer +I would speak with Clarence, and I came hither on my legs. + +BRAKENBURY +Yea, are you so brief? + +Second Murderer +O sir, it is better to be brief than tedious. Show +him our commission; talk no more. + +BRAKENBURY reads it + +BRAKENBURY +I am, in this, commanded to deliver +The noble Duke of Clarence to your hands: +I will not reason what is meant hereby, +Because I will be guiltless of the meaning. +Here are the keys, there sits the duke asleep: +I'll to the king; and signify to him +That thus I have resign'd my charge to you. + +First Murderer +Do so, it is a point of wisdom: fare you well. + +Exit BRAKENBURY + +Second Murderer +What, shall we stab him as he sleeps? + +First Murderer +No; then he will say 'twas done cowardly, when he wakes. + +Second Murderer +When he wakes! why, fool, he shall never wake till +the judgment-day. + +First Murderer +Why, then he will say we stabbed him sleeping. + +Second Murderer +The urging of that word 'judgment' hath bred a kind +of remorse in me. + +First Murderer +What, art thou afraid? + +Second Murderer +Not to kill him, having a warrant for it; but to be +damned for killing him, from which no warrant can defend us. + +First Murderer +I thought thou hadst been resolute. + +Second Murderer +So I am, to let him live. + +First Murderer +Back to the Duke of Gloucester, tell him so. + +Second Murderer +I pray thee, stay a while: I hope my holy humour +will change; 'twas wont to hold me but while one +would tell twenty. + +First Murderer +How dost thou feel thyself now? + +Second Murderer +'Faith, some certain dregs of conscience are yet +within me. + +First Murderer +Remember our reward, when the deed is done. + +Second Murderer +'Zounds, he dies: I had forgot the reward. + +First Murderer +Where is thy conscience now? + +Second Murderer +In the Duke of Gloucester's purse. + +First Murderer +So when he opens his purse to give us our reward, +thy conscience flies out. + +Second Murderer +Let it go; there's few or none will entertain it. + +First Murderer +How if it come to thee again? + +Second Murderer +I'll not meddle with it: it is a dangerous thing: it +makes a man a coward: a man cannot steal, but it +accuseth him; he cannot swear, but it cheques him; +he cannot lie with his neighbour's wife, but it +detects him: 'tis a blushing shamefast spirit that +mutinies in a man's bosom; it fills one full of +obstacles: it made me once restore a purse of gold +that I found; it beggars any man that keeps it: it +is turned out of all towns and cities for a +dangerous thing; and every man that means to live +well endeavours to trust to himself and to live +without it. + +First Murderer +'Zounds, it is even now at my elbow, persuading me +not to kill the duke. + +Second Murderer +Take the devil in thy mind, and relieve him not: he +would insinuate with thee but to make thee sigh. + +First Murderer +Tut, I am strong-framed, he cannot prevail with me, +I warrant thee. + +Second Murderer +Spoke like a tail fellow that respects his +reputation. Come, shall we to this gear? + +First Murderer +Take him over the costard with the hilts of thy +sword, and then we will chop him in the malmsey-butt +in the next room. + +Second Murderer +O excellent devise! make a sop of him. + +First Murderer +Hark! he stirs: shall I strike? + +Second Murderer +No, first let's reason with him. + +CLARENCE +Where art thou, keeper? give me a cup of wine. + +Second murderer +You shall have wine enough, my lord, anon. + +CLARENCE +In God's name, what art thou? + +Second Murderer +A man, as you are. + +CLARENCE +But not, as I am, royal. + +Second Murderer +Nor you, as we are, loyal. + +CLARENCE +Thy voice is thunder, but thy looks are humble. + +Second Murderer +My voice is now the king's, my looks mine own. + +CLARENCE +How darkly and how deadly dost thou speak! +Your eyes do menace me: why look you pale? +Who sent you hither? Wherefore do you come? + +Both +To, to, to-- + +CLARENCE +To murder me? + +Both +Ay, ay. + +CLARENCE +You scarcely have the hearts to tell me so, +And therefore cannot have the hearts to do it. +Wherein, my friends, have I offended you? + +First Murderer +Offended us you have not, but the king. + +CLARENCE +I shall be reconciled to him again. + +Second Murderer +Never, my lord; therefore prepare to die. + +CLARENCE +Are you call'd forth from out a world of men +To slay the innocent? What is my offence? +Where are the evidence that do accuse me? +What lawful quest have given their verdict up +Unto the frowning judge? or who pronounced +The bitter sentence of poor Clarence' death? +Before I be convict by course of law, +To threaten me with death is most unlawful. +I charge you, as you hope to have redemption +By Christ's dear blood shed for our grievous sins, +That you depart and lay no hands on me +The deed you undertake is damnable. + +First Murderer +What we will do, we do upon command. + +Second Murderer +And he that hath commanded is the king. + +CLARENCE +Erroneous vassal! the great King of kings +Hath in the tables of his law commanded +That thou shalt do no murder: and wilt thou, then, +Spurn at his edict and fulfil a man's? +Take heed; for he holds vengeance in his hands, +To hurl upon their heads that break his law. + +Second Murderer +And that same vengeance doth he hurl on thee, +For false forswearing and for murder too: +Thou didst receive the holy sacrament, +To fight in quarrel of the house of Lancaster. + +First Murderer +And, like a traitor to the name of God, +Didst break that vow; and with thy treacherous blade +Unrip'dst the bowels of thy sovereign's son. + +Second Murderer +Whom thou wert sworn to cherish and defend. + +First Murderer +How canst thou urge God's dreadful law to us, +When thou hast broke it in so dear degree? + +CLARENCE +Alas! for whose sake did I that ill deed? +For Edward, for my brother, for his sake: Why, sirs, +He sends ye not to murder me for this +For in this sin he is as deep as I. +If God will be revenged for this deed. +O, know you yet, he doth it publicly, +Take not the quarrel from his powerful arm; +He needs no indirect nor lawless course +To cut off those that have offended him. + +First Murderer +Who made thee, then, a bloody minister, +When gallant-springing brave Plantagenet, +That princely novice, was struck dead by thee? + +CLARENCE +My brother's love, the devil, and my rage. + +First Murderer +Thy brother's love, our duty, and thy fault, +Provoke us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +Oh, if you love my brother, hate not me; +I am his brother, and I love him well. +If you be hired for meed, go back again, +And I will send you to my brother Gloucester, +Who shall reward you better for my life +Than Edward will for tidings of my death. + +Second Murderer +You are deceived, your brother Gloucester hates you. + +CLARENCE +O, no, he loves me, and he holds me dear: +Go you to him from me. + +Both +Ay, so we will. + +CLARENCE +Tell him, when that our princely father York +Bless'd his three sons with his victorious arm, +And charged us from his soul to love each other, +He little thought of this divided friendship: +Bid Gloucester think of this, and he will weep. + +First Murderer +Ay, millstones; as be lesson'd us to weep. + +CLARENCE +O, do not slander him, for he is kind. + +First Murderer +Right, +As snow in harvest. Thou deceivest thyself: +'Tis he that sent us hither now to slaughter thee. + +CLARENCE +It cannot be; for when I parted with him, +He hugg'd me in his arms, and swore, with sobs, +That he would labour my delivery. + +Second Murderer +Why, so he doth, now he delivers thee +From this world's thraldom to the joys of heaven. + +First Murderer +Make peace with God, for you must die, my lord. + +CLARENCE +Hast thou that holy feeling in thy soul, +To counsel me to make my peace with God, +And art thou yet to thy own soul so blind, +That thou wilt war with God by murdering me? +Ah, sirs, consider, he that set you on +To do this deed will hate you for the deed. + +Second Murderer +What shall we do? + +CLARENCE +Relent, and save your souls. + +First Murderer +Relent! 'tis cowardly and womanish. + +CLARENCE +Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish. +Which of you, if you were a prince's son, +Being pent from liberty, as I am now, +if two such murderers as yourselves came to you, +Would not entreat for life? +My friend, I spy some pity in thy looks: +O, if thine eye be not a flatterer, +Come thou on my side, and entreat for me, +As you would beg, were you in my distress +A begging prince what beggar pities not? + +Second Murderer +Look behind you, my lord. + +First Murderer +Take that, and that: if all this will not do, + +Stabs him + +I'll drown you in the malmsey-butt within. + +Exit, with the body + +Second Murderer +A bloody deed, and desperately dispatch'd! +How fain, like Pilate, would I wash my hands +Of this most grievous guilty murder done! + +Re-enter First Murderer + +First Murderer +How now! what mean'st thou, that thou help'st me not? +By heavens, the duke shall know how slack thou art! + +Second Murderer +I would he knew that I had saved his brother! +Take thou the fee, and tell him what I say; +For I repent me that the duke is slain. + +Exit + +First Murderer +So do not I: go, coward as thou art. +Now must I hide his body in some hole, +Until the duke take order for his burial: +And when I have my meed, I must away; +For this will out, and here I must not stay. + + +ACT II +SCENE I. London. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter KING EDWARD IV sick, QUEEN ELIZABETH, DORSET, RIVERS, HASTINGS, BUCKINGHAM, GREY, and others +KING EDWARD IV +Why, so: now have I done a good day's work: +You peers, continue this united league: +I every day expect an embassage +From my Redeemer to redeem me hence; +And now in peace my soul shall part to heaven, +Since I have set my friends at peace on earth. +Rivers and Hastings, take each other's hand; +Dissemble not your hatred, swear your love. + +RIVERS +By heaven, my heart is purged from grudging hate: +And with my hand I seal my true heart's love. + +HASTINGS +So thrive I, as I truly swear the like! + +KING EDWARD IV +Take heed you dally not before your king; +Lest he that is the supreme King of kings +Confound your hidden falsehood, and award +Either of you to be the other's end. + +HASTINGS +So prosper I, as I swear perfect love! + +RIVERS +And I, as I love Hastings with my heart! + +KING EDWARD IV +Madam, yourself are not exempt in this, +Nor your son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you; +You have been factious one against the other, +Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand; +And what you do, do it unfeignedly. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Here, Hastings; I will never more remember +Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine! + +KING EDWARD IV +Dorset, embrace him; Hastings, love lord marquess. + +DORSET +This interchange of love, I here protest, +Upon my part shall be unviolable. + +HASTINGS +And so swear I, my lord + +They embrace + +KING EDWARD IV +Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league +With thy embracements to my wife's allies, +And make me happy in your unity. + +BUCKINGHAM +Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate +On you or yours, + +To the Queen + +but with all duteous love +Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me +With hate in those where I expect most love! +When I have most need to employ a friend, +And most assured that he is a friend +Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile, +Be he unto me! this do I beg of God, +When I am cold in zeal to yours. + +KING EDWARD IV +A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, +is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. +There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here, +To make the perfect period of this peace. + +BUCKINGHAM +And, in good time, here comes the noble duke. + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen: +And, princely peers, a happy time of day! + +KING EDWARD IV +Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. +Brother, we done deeds of charity; +Made peace enmity, fair love of hate, +Between these swelling wrong-incensed peers. + +GLOUCESTER +A blessed labour, my most sovereign liege: +Amongst this princely heap, if any here, +By false intelligence, or wrong surmise, +Hold me a foe; +If I unwittingly, or in my rage, +Have aught committed that is hardly borne +By any in this presence, I desire +To reconcile me to his friendly peace: +'Tis death to me to be at enmity; +I hate it, and desire all good men's love. +First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, +Which I will purchase with my duteous service; +Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, +If ever any grudge were lodged between us; +Of you, Lord Rivers, and, Lord Grey, of you; +That without desert have frown'd on me; +Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen; indeed, of all. +I do not know that Englishman alive +With whom my soul is any jot at odds +More than the infant that is born to-night +I thank my God for my humility. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +A holy day shall this be kept hereafter: +I would to God all strifes were well compounded. +My sovereign liege, I do beseech your majesty +To take our brother Clarence to your grace. + +GLOUCESTER +Why, madam, have I offer'd love for this +To be so bouted in this royal presence? +Who knows not that the noble duke is dead? + +They all start + +You do him injury to scorn his corse. + +RIVERS +Who knows not he is dead! who knows he is? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +All seeing heaven, what a world is this! + +BUCKINGHAM +Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest? + +DORSET +Ay, my good lord; and no one in this presence +But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks. + +KING EDWARD IV +Is Clarence dead? the order was reversed. + +GLOUCESTER +But he, poor soul, by your first order died, +And that a winged Mercury did bear: +Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, +That came too lag to see him buried. +God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, +Nearer in bloody thoughts, but not in blood, +Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, +And yet go current from suspicion! + +Enter DERBY + +DORSET +A boon, my sovereign, for my service done! + +KING EDWARD IV +I pray thee, peace: my soul is full of sorrow. + +DORSET +I will not rise, unless your highness grant. + +KING EDWARD IV +Then speak at once what is it thou demand'st. + +DORSET +The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant's life; +Who slew to-day a righteous gentleman +Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk. + +KING EDWARD IV +Have a tongue to doom my brother's death, +And shall the same give pardon to a slave? +My brother slew no man; his fault was thought, +And yet his punishment was cruel death. +Who sued to me for him? who, in my rage, +Kneel'd at my feet, and bade me be advised +Who spake of brotherhood? who spake of love? +Who told me how the poor soul did forsake +The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? +Who told me, in the field by Tewksbury +When Oxford had me down, he rescued me, +And said, 'Dear brother, live, and be a king'? +Who told me, when we both lay in the field +Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me +Even in his own garments, and gave himself, +All thin and naked, to the numb cold night? +All this from my remembrance brutish wrath +Sinfully pluck'd, and not a man of you +Had so much grace to put it in my mind. +But when your carters or your waiting-vassals +Have done a drunken slaughter, and defaced +The precious image of our dear Redeemer, +You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon; +And I unjustly too, must grant it you +But for my brother not a man would speak, +Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself +For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all +Have been beholding to him in his life; +Yet none of you would once plead for his life. +O God, I fear thy justice will take hold +On me, and you, and mine, and yours for this! +Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. +Oh, poor Clarence! + +Exeunt some with KING EDWARD IV and QUEEN MARGARET + +GLOUCESTER +This is the fruit of rashness! Mark'd you not +How that the guilty kindred of the queen +Look'd pale when they did hear of Clarence' death? +O, they did urge it still unto the king! +God will revenge it. But come, let us in, +To comfort Edward with our company. + +BUCKINGHAM +We wait upon your grace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter the DUCHESS OF YORK, with the two children of CLARENCE +Boy +Tell me, good grandam, is our father dead? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +No, boy. + +Boy +Why do you wring your hands, and beat your breast, +And cry 'O Clarence, my unhappy son!' + +Girl +Why do you look on us, and shake your head, +And call us wretches, orphans, castaways +If that our noble father be alive? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +My pretty cousins, you mistake me much; +I do lament the sickness of the king. +As loath to lose him, not your father's death; +It were lost sorrow to wail one that's lost. + +Boy +Then, grandam, you conclude that he is dead. +The king my uncle is to blame for this: +God will revenge it; whom I will importune +With daily prayers all to that effect. + +Girl +And so will I. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Peace, children, peace! the king doth love you well: +Incapable and shallow innocents, +You cannot guess who caused your father's death. + +Boy +Grandam, we can; for my good uncle Gloucester +Told me, the king, provoked by the queen, +Devised impeachments to imprison him : +And when my uncle told me so, he wept, +And hugg'd me in his arm, and kindly kiss'd my cheek; +Bade me rely on him as on my father, +And he would love me dearly as his child. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Oh, that deceit should steal such gentle shapes, +And with a virtuous vizard hide foul guile! +He is my son; yea, and therein my shame; +Yet from my dugs he drew not this deceit. + +Boy +Think you my uncle did dissemble, grandam? + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ay, boy. + +Boy +I cannot think it. Hark! what noise is this? + +Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, with her hair about her ears; RIVERS, and DORSET after her + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Oh, who shall hinder me to wail and weep, +To chide my fortune, and torment myself? +I'll join with black despair against my soul, +And to myself become an enemy. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What means this scene of rude impatience? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +To make an act of tragic violence: +Edward, my lord, your son, our king, is dead. +Why grow the branches now the root is wither'd? +Why wither not the leaves the sap being gone? +If you will live, lament; if die, be brief, +That our swift-winged souls may catch the king's; +Or, like obedient subjects, follow him +To his new kingdom of perpetual rest. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Ah, so much interest have I in thy sorrow +As I had title in thy noble husband! +I have bewept a worthy husband's death, +And lived by looking on his images: +But now two mirrors of his princely semblance +Are crack'd in pieces by malignant death, +And I for comfort have but one false glass, +Which grieves me when I see my shame in him. +Thou art a widow; yet thou art a mother, +And hast the comfort of thy children left thee: +But death hath snatch'd my husband from mine arms, +And pluck'd two crutches from my feeble limbs, +Edward and Clarence. O, what cause have I, +Thine being but a moiety of my grief, +To overgo thy plaints and drown thy cries! + +Boy +Good aunt, you wept not for our father's death; +How can we aid you with our kindred tears? + +Girl +Our fatherless distress was left unmoan'd; +Your widow-dolour likewise be unwept! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Give me no help in lamentation; +I am not barren to bring forth complaints +All springs reduce their currents to mine eyes, +That I, being govern'd by the watery moon, +May send forth plenteous tears to drown the world! +Oh for my husband, for my dear lord Edward! + +Children +Oh for our father, for our dear lord Clarence! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Alas for both, both mine, Edward and Clarence! + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +What stay had I but Edward? and he's gone. + +Children +What stay had we but Clarence? and he's gone. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +What stays had I but they? and they are gone. + +QUEEN ELIZABETH +Was never widow had so dear a loss! + +Children +Were never orphans had so dear a loss! + +DUCHESS OF YORK +Was never mother had so dear a loss! +Alas, I am the mother of these moans! +Their woes are parcell'd, mine are general. +She for an Edward weeps, and so do I; +I for a Clarence weep, so doth not she: +These babes for Clarence weep and so do I; +I for an Edward weep, so do not they: +Alas, you three, on me, threefold distress'd, +Pour all your tears! I am your sorrow's nurse, +And I will pamper it with lamentations. + +DORSET +Comfort, dear mother: God is much displeased +That you take with unthankfulness, his doing: +In common worldly things, 'tis call'd ungrateful, +With dull unwilligness to repay a debt +Which with a bounteous hand was kindly lent; +Much more to be thus opposite with heaven, +For it requires the royal debt it lent you. + +RIVERS +Madam, bethink you, like a careful mother, +Of the young prince your son: send straight for him +Let him be crown'd; in him your comfort lives: +Drown desperate sorrow in dead Edward's grave, +And plant your joys in living Edward's throne. + +Enter GLOUCESTER, BUCKINGHAM, DERBY, HASTINGS, and RATCLIFF + +GLOUCESTER +Madam, have comfort: all of us have cause +To wail the dimming of our shining star; +But none can cure their harms by wailing them. +Madam, my mother, I do cry you mercy; +I did not see your grace: humbly on my knee +I crave your blessing. + +DUCHESS OF YORK +God bless thee; and put meekness in thy mind, +Love, charity, obedience, and true duty! + +GLOUCESTER +[Aside] Amen; and make me die a good old man! +That is the butt-end of a mother's blessing: +I marvel why her grace did leave it out. + +BUCKINGHAM +You cloudy princes and heart-sorrowing peers, +That bear this mutual heavy load of moan, +Now cheer each other in each other's love +Though we have spent our harvest of this king, +We are to reap the harvest of his son. +The broken rancour of your high-swoln hearts, +But lately splinter'd, knit, and join'd together, +Must gently be preserved, cherish'd, and kept: +Me seemeth good, that, with some little train, +Forthwith from Ludlow the young prince be fetch'd +Hither to London, to be crown'd our king. + +RIVERS +Why with some little train, my Lord of Buckingham? + +BUCKINGHAM +Marry, my lord, lest, by a multitude, +The new-heal'd wound of malice should break out, +Which would be so much the more dangerous +By how much the estate is green and yet ungovern'd: +Where every horse bears his commanding rein, +And may direct his course as please himself, +As well the fear of harm, as harm apparent, +In my opinion, ought to be prevented. + +GLOUCESTER +I hope the king made peace with all of us +And the compact is firm and true in me. + +RIVERS +And so in me; and so, I think, in all: +Yet, since it is but green, it should be put +To no apparent likelihood of breach, +Which haply by much company might be urged: +Therefore I say with noble Buckingham, +That it is meet so few should fetch the prince. + +HASTINGS +And so say I. + +GLOUCESTER +Then be it so; and go we to determine +Who they shall be that straight shall post to Ludlow. +Madam, and you, my mother, will you go +To give your censures in this weighty business? + +QUEEN ELIZABETH DUCHESS OF YORK +With all our harts. + +Exeunt all but BUCKINGHAM and GLOUCESTER + +BUCKINGHAM +My lord, whoever journeys to the Prince, +For God's sake, let not us two be behind; +For, by the way, I'll sort occasion, +As index to the story we late talk'd of, +To part the queen's proud kindred from the king. + +GLOUCESTER +My other self, my counsel's consistory, +My oracle, my prophet! My dear cousin, +I, like a child, will go by thy direction. +Towards Ludlow then, for we'll not stay behind. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. London. A street. + +Enter two Citizens meeting +First Citizen +Neighbour, well met: whither away so fast? + +Second Citizen +I promise you, I scarcely know myself: +Hear you the news abroad? + +First Citizen +Ay, that the king is dead. + +Second Citizen +Bad news, by'r lady; seldom comes the better: +I fear, I fear 'twill prove a troublous world. + +Enter another Citizen + +Third Citizen +Neighbours, God speed! + +First Citizen +Give you good morrow, sir. + +Third Citizen +Doth this news hold of good King Edward's death? + +Second Citizen +Ay, sir, it is too true; God help the while! + +Third Citizen +Then, masters, look to see a troublous world. + +First Citizen +No, no; by God's good grace his son shall reign. + +Third Citizen +Woe to the land that's govern'd by a child! + +Second Citizen +In him there is a hope of government, +That in his nonage council under him, +And in his full and ripen'd years himself, +No doubt, shall then and till then govern well. + +First Citizen +So stood the state when Henry the Sixth +Was crown'd in Paris but at nine months old. + +Third Citizen +Stood the state so? No, no, good friends, God wot; +For then this land was famously enrich'd +With politic grave counsel; then the king +Had virtuous uncles to protect his grace. + +The Tragedy of Coriolanus +Shakespeare homepage | Coriolanus | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter a company of mutinous Citizens, with staves, clubs, and other weapons +First Citizen +Before we proceed any further, hear me speak. + +All +Speak, speak. + +First Citizen +You are all resolved rather to die than to famish? + +All +Resolved. resolved. + +First Citizen +First, you know Caius Marcius is chief enemy to the people. + +All +We know't, we know't. + +First Citizen +Let us kill him, and we'll have corn at our own price. +Is't a verdict? + +All +No more talking on't; let it be done: away, away! + +Second Citizen +One word, good citizens. + +First Citizen +We are accounted poor citizens, the patricians good. +What authority surfeits on would relieve us: if they +would yield us but the superfluity, while it were +wholesome, we might guess they relieved us humanely; +but they think we are too dear: the leanness that +afflicts us, the object of our misery, is as an +inventory to particularise their abundance; our +sufferance is a gain to them Let us revenge this with +our pikes, ere we become rakes: for the gods know I +speak this in hunger for bread, not in thirst for revenge. + +Second Citizen +Would you proceed especially against Caius Marcius? + +All +Against him first: he's a very dog to the commonalty. + +Second Citizen +Consider you what services he has done for his country? + +First Citizen +Very well; and could be content to give him good +report fort, but that he pays himself with being proud. + +Second Citizen +Nay, but speak not maliciously. + +First Citizen +I say unto you, what he hath done famously, he did +it to that end: though soft-conscienced men can be +content to say it was for his country he did it to +please his mother and to be partly proud; which he +is, even till the altitude of his virtue. + +Second Citizen +What he cannot help in his nature, you account a +vice in him. You must in no way say he is covetous. + +First Citizen +If I must not, I need not be barren of accusations; +he hath faults, with surplus, to tire in repetition. + +Shouts within + +What shouts are these? The other side o' the city +is risen: why stay we prating here? to the Capitol! + +All +Come, come. + +First Citizen +Soft! who comes here? + +Enter MENENIUS AGRIPPA + +Second Citizen +Worthy Menenius Agrippa; one that hath always loved +the people. + +First Citizen +He's one honest enough: would all the rest were so! + +MENENIUS +What work's, my countrymen, in hand? where go you +With bats and clubs? The matter? speak, I pray you. + +First Citizen +Our business is not unknown to the senate; they have +had inkling this fortnight what we intend to do, +which now we'll show 'em in deeds. They say poor +suitors have strong breaths: they shall know we +have strong arms too. + +MENENIUS +Why, masters, my good friends, mine honest neighbours, +Will you undo yourselves? + +First Citizen +We cannot, sir, we are undone already. + +MENENIUS +I tell you, friends, most charitable care +Have the patricians of you. For your wants, +Your suffering in this dearth, you may as well +Strike at the heaven with your staves as lift them +Against the Roman state, whose course will on +The way it takes, cracking ten thousand curbs +Of more strong link asunder than can ever +Appear in your impediment. For the dearth, +The gods, not the patricians, make it, and +Your knees to them, not arms, must help. Alack, +You are transported by calamity +Thither where more attends you, and you slander +The helms o' the state, who care for you like fathers, +When you curse them as enemies. + +First Citizen +Care for us! True, indeed! They ne'er cared for us +yet: suffer us to famish, and their store-houses +crammed with grain; make edicts for usury, to +support usurers; repeal daily any wholesome act +established against the rich, and provide more +piercing statutes daily, to chain up and restrain +the poor. If the wars eat us not up, they will; and +there's all the love they bear us. + +MENENIUS +Either you must +Confess yourselves wondrous malicious, +Or be accused of folly. I shall tell you +A pretty tale: it may be you have heard it; +But, since it serves my purpose, I will venture +To stale 't a little more. + +First Citizen +Well, I'll hear it, sir: yet you must not think to +fob off our disgrace with a tale: but, an 't please +you, deliver. + +MENENIUS +There was a time when all the body's members +Rebell'd against the belly, thus accused it: +That only like a gulf it did remain +I' the midst o' the body, idle and unactive, +Still cupboarding the viand, never bearing +Like labour with the rest, where the other instruments +Did see and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel, +And, mutually participate, did minister +Unto the appetite and affection common +Of the whole body. The belly answer'd-- + +First Citizen +Well, sir, what answer made the belly? + +MENENIUS +Sir, I shall tell you. With a kind of smile, +Which ne'er came from the lungs, but even thus-- +For, look you, I may make the belly smile +As well as speak--it tauntingly replied +To the discontented members, the mutinous parts +That envied his receipt; even so most fitly +As you malign our senators for that +They are not such as you. + +First Citizen +Your belly's answer? What! +The kingly-crowned head, the vigilant eye, +The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier, +Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter. +With other muniments and petty helps +In this our fabric, if that they-- + +MENENIUS +What then? +'Fore me, this fellow speaks! What then? what then? + +First Citizen +Should by the cormorant belly be restrain'd, +Who is the sink o' the body,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, what then? + +First Citizen +The former agents, if they did complain, +What could the belly answer? + +MENENIUS +I will tell you +If you'll bestow a small--of what you have little-- +Patience awhile, you'll hear the belly's answer. + +First Citizen +Ye're long about it. + +MENENIUS +Note me this, good friend; +Your most grave belly was deliberate, +Not rash like his accusers, and thus answer'd: +'True is it, my incorporate friends,' quoth he, +'That I receive the general food at first, +Which you do live upon; and fit it is, +Because I am the store-house and the shop +Of the whole body: but, if you do remember, +I send it through the rivers of your blood, +Even to the court, the heart, to the seat o' the brain; +And, through the cranks and offices of man, +The strongest nerves and small inferior veins +From me receive that natural competency +Whereby they live: and though that all at once, +You, my good friends,'--this says the belly, mark me,-- + +First Citizen +Ay, sir; well, well. + +MENENIUS +'Though all at once cannot +See what I do deliver out to each, +Yet I can make my audit up, that all +From me do back receive the flour of all, +And leave me but the bran.' What say you to't? + +First Citizen +It was an answer: how apply you this? + +MENENIUS +The senators of Rome are this good belly, +And you the mutinous members; for examine +Their counsels and their cares, digest things rightly +Touching the weal o' the common, you shall find +No public benefit which you receive +But it proceeds or comes from them to you +And no way from yourselves. What do you think, +You, the great toe of this assembly? + +First Citizen +I the great toe! why the great toe? + +MENENIUS +For that, being one o' the lowest, basest, poorest, +Of this most wise rebellion, thou go'st foremost: +Thou rascal, that art worst in blood to run, +Lead'st first to win some vantage. +But make you ready your stiff bats and clubs: +Rome and her rats are at the point of battle; +The one side must have bale. + +Enter CAIUS MARCIUS + +Hail, noble Marcius! + +MARCIUS +Thanks. What's the matter, you dissentious rogues, +That, rubbing the poor itch of your opinion, +Make yourselves scabs? + +First Citizen +We have ever your good word. + +MARCIUS +He that will give good words to thee will flatter +Beneath abhorring. What would you have, you curs, +That like nor peace nor war? the one affrights you, +The other makes you proud. He that trusts to you, +Where he should find you lions, finds you hares; +Where foxes, geese: you are no surer, no, +Than is the coal of fire upon the ice, +Or hailstone in the sun. Your virtue is +To make him worthy whose offence subdues him +And curse that justice did it. +Who deserves greatness +Deserves your hate; and your affections are +A sick man's appetite, who desires most that +Which would increase his evil. He that depends +Upon your favours swims with fins of lead +And hews down oaks with rushes. Hang ye! Trust Ye? +With every minute you do change a mind, +And call him noble that was now your hate, +Him vile that was your garland. What's the matter, +That in these several places of the city +You cry against the noble senate, who, +Under the gods, keep you in awe, which else +Would feed on one another? What's their seeking? + +MENENIUS +For corn at their own rates; whereof, they say, +The city is well stored. + +MARCIUS +Hang 'em! They say! +They'll sit by the fire, and presume to know +What's done i' the Capitol; who's like to rise, +Who thrives and who declines; side factions +and give out +Conjectural marriages; making parties strong +And feebling such as stand not in their liking +Below their cobbled shoes. They say there's +grain enough! +Would the nobility lay aside their ruth, +And let me use my sword, I'll make a quarry +With thousands of these quarter'd slaves, as high +As I could pick my lance. + +MENENIUS +Nay, these are almost thoroughly persuaded; +For though abundantly they lack discretion, +Yet are they passing cowardly. But, I beseech you, +What says the other troop? + +MARCIUS +They are dissolved: hang 'em! +They said they were an-hungry; sigh'd forth proverbs, +That hunger broke stone walls, that dogs must eat, +That meat was made for mouths, that the gods sent not +Corn for the rich men only: with these shreds +They vented their complainings; which being answer'd, +And a petition granted them, a strange one-- +To break the heart of generosity, +And make bold power look pale--they threw their caps +As they would hang them on the horns o' the moon, +Shouting their emulation. + +MENENIUS +What is granted them? + +MARCIUS +Five tribunes to defend their vulgar wisdoms, +Of their own choice: one's Junius Brutus, +Sicinius Velutus, and I know not--'Sdeath! +The rabble should have first unroof'd the city, +Ere so prevail'd with me: it will in time +Win upon power and throw forth greater themes +For insurrection's arguing. + +MENENIUS +This is strange. + +MARCIUS +Go, get you home, you fragments! + +Enter a Messenger, hastily + +Messenger +Where's Caius Marcius? + +MARCIUS +Here: what's the matter? + +Messenger +The news is, sir, the Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +I am glad on 't: then we shall ha' means to vent +Our musty superfluity. See, our best elders. + +Enter COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators; JUNIUS BRUTUS and SICINIUS VELUTUS + +First Senator +Marcius, 'tis true that you have lately told us; +The Volsces are in arms. + +MARCIUS +They have a leader, +Tullus Aufidius, that will put you to 't. +I sin in envying his nobility, +And were I any thing but what I am, +I would wish me only he. + +COMINIUS +You have fought together. + +MARCIUS +Were half to half the world by the ears and he. +Upon my party, I'ld revolt to make +Only my wars with him: he is a lion +That I am proud to hunt. + +First Senator +Then, worthy Marcius, +Attend upon Cominius to these wars. + +COMINIUS +It is your former promise. + +MARCIUS +Sir, it is; +And I am constant. Titus Lartius, thou +Shalt see me once more strike at Tullus' face. +What, art thou stiff? stand'st out? + +TITUS +No, Caius Marcius; +I'll lean upon one crutch and fight with t'other, +Ere stay behind this business. + +MENENIUS +O, true-bred! + +First Senator +Your company to the Capitol; where, I know, +Our greatest friends attend us. + +TITUS +[To COMINIUS] Lead you on. + +To MARCIUS + +Right worthy you priority. + +COMINIUS +Noble Marcius! + +First Senator +[To the Citizens] Hence to your homes; be gone! + +MARCIUS +Nay, let them follow: +The Volsces have much corn; take these rats thither +To gnaw their garners. Worshipful mutiners, +Your valour puts well forth: pray, follow. + +Citizens steal away. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +SICINIUS +Was ever man so proud as is this Marcius? + +BRUTUS +He has no equal. + +SICINIUS +When we were chosen tribunes for the people,-- + +BRUTUS +Mark'd you his lip and eyes? + +SICINIUS +Nay. but his taunts. + +BRUTUS +Being moved, he will not spare to gird the gods. + +SICINIUS +Be-mock the modest moon. + +BRUTUS +The present wars devour him: he is grown +Too proud to be so valiant. + +SICINIUS +Such a nature, +Tickled with good success, disdains the shadow +Which he treads on at noon: but I do wonder +His insolence can brook to be commanded +Under Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Fame, at the which he aims, +In whom already he's well graced, can not +Better be held nor more attain'd than by +A place below the first: for what miscarries +Shall be the general's fault, though he perform +To the utmost of a man, and giddy censure +Will then cry out of Marcius 'O if he +Had borne the business!' + +SICINIUS +Besides, if things go well, +Opinion that so sticks on Marcius shall +Of his demerits rob Cominius. + +BRUTUS +Come: +Half all Cominius' honours are to Marcius. +Though Marcius earned them not, and all his faults +To Marcius shall be honours, though indeed +In aught he merit not. + +SICINIUS +Let's hence, and hear +How the dispatch is made, and in what fashion, +More than his singularity, he goes +Upon this present action. + +BRUTUS +Lets along. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Corioli. The Senate-house. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS and certain Senators +First Senator +So, your opinion is, Aufidius, +That they of Rome are entered in our counsels +And know how we proceed. + +AUFIDIUS +Is it not yours? +What ever have been thought on in this state, +That could be brought to bodily act ere Rome +Had circumvention? 'Tis not four days gone +Since I heard thence; these are the words: I think +I have the letter here; yes, here it is. + +Reads + +'They have press'd a power, but it is not known +Whether for east or west: the dearth is great; +The people mutinous; and it is rumour'd, +Cominius, Marcius your old enemy, +Who is of Rome worse hated than of you, +And Titus Lartius, a most valiant Roman, +These three lead on this preparation +Whither 'tis bent: most likely 'tis for you: +Consider of it.' + +First Senator +Our army's in the field +We never yet made doubt but Rome was ready +To answer us. + +AUFIDIUS +Nor did you think it folly +To keep your great pretences veil'd till when +They needs must show themselves; which +in the hatching, +It seem'd, appear'd to Rome. By the discovery. +We shall be shorten'd in our aim, which was +To take in many towns ere almost Rome +Should know we were afoot. + +Second Senator +Noble Aufidius, +Take your commission; hie you to your bands: +Let us alone to guard Corioli: +If they set down before 's, for the remove +Bring your army; but, I think, you'll find +They've not prepared for us. + +AUFIDIUS +O, doubt not that; +I speak from certainties. Nay, more, +Some parcels of their power are forth already, +And only hitherward. I leave your honours. +If we and Caius Marcius chance to meet, +'Tis sworn between us we shall ever strike +Till one can do no more. + +All +The gods assist you! + +AUFIDIUS +And keep your honours safe! + +First Senator +Farewell. + +Second Senator +Farewell. + +All +Farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. Rome. A room in Marcius' house. + +Enter VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA they set them down on two low stools, and sew +VOLUMNIA +I pray you, daughter, sing; or express yourself in a +more comfortable sort: if my son were my husband, I +should freelier rejoice in that absence wherein he +won honour than in the embracements of his bed where +he would show most love. When yet he was but +tender-bodied and the only son of my womb, when +youth with comeliness plucked all gaze his way, when +for a day of kings' entreaties a mother should not +sell him an hour from her beholding, I, considering +how honour would become such a person. that it was +no better than picture-like to hang by the wall, if +renown made it not stir, was pleased to let him seek +danger where he was like to find fame. To a cruel +war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows +bound with oak. I tell thee, daughter, I sprang not +more in joy at first hearing he was a man-child +than now in first seeing he had proved himself a +man. + +VIRGILIA +But had he died in the business, madam; how then? + +VOLUMNIA +Then his good report should have been my son; I +therein would have found issue. Hear me profess +sincerely: had I a dozen sons, each in my love +alike and none less dear than thine and my good +Marcius, I had rather had eleven die nobly for their +country than one voluptuously surfeit out of action. + +Enter a Gentlewoman + +Gentlewoman +Madam, the Lady Valeria is come to visit you. + +VIRGILIA +Beseech you, give me leave to retire myself. + +VOLUMNIA +Indeed, you shall not. +Methinks I hear hither your husband's drum, +See him pluck Aufidius down by the hair, +As children from a bear, the Volsces shunning him: +Methinks I see him stamp thus, and call thus: +'Come on, you cowards! you were got in fear, +Though you were born in Rome:' his bloody brow +With his mail'd hand then wiping, forth he goes, +Like to a harvest-man that's task'd to mow +Or all or lose his hire. + +VIRGILIA +His bloody brow! O Jupiter, no blood! + +VOLUMNIA +Away, you fool! it more becomes a man +Than gilt his trophy: the breasts of Hecuba, +When she did suckle Hector, look'd not lovelier +Than Hector's forehead when it spit forth blood +At Grecian sword, contemning. Tell Valeria, +We are fit to bid her welcome. + +Exit Gentlewoman + +VIRGILIA +Heavens bless my lord from fell Aufidius! + +VOLUMNIA +He'll beat Aufidius 'head below his knee +And tread upon his neck. + +Enter VALERIA, with an Usher and Gentlewoman + +VALERIA +My ladies both, good day to you. + +VOLUMNIA +Sweet madam. + +VIRGILIA +I am glad to see your ladyship. + +VALERIA +How do you both? you are manifest house-keepers. +What are you sewing here? A fine spot, in good +faith. How does your little son? + +VIRGILIA +I thank your ladyship; well, good madam. + +VOLUMNIA +He had rather see the swords, and hear a drum, than +look upon his school-master. + +VALERIA +O' my word, the father's son: I'll swear,'tis a +very pretty boy. O' my troth, I looked upon him o' +Wednesday half an hour together: has such a +confirmed countenance. I saw him run after a gilded +butterfly: and when he caught it, he let it go +again; and after it again; and over and over he +comes, and again; catched it again; or whether his +fall enraged him, or how 'twas, he did so set his +teeth and tear it; O, I warrant it, how he mammocked +it! + +VOLUMNIA +One on 's father's moods. + +VALERIA +Indeed, la, 'tis a noble child. + +VIRGILIA +A crack, madam. + +VALERIA +Come, lay aside your stitchery; I must have you play +the idle husewife with me this afternoon. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam; I will not out of doors. + +VALERIA +Not out of doors! + +VOLUMNIA +She shall, she shall. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, no, by your patience; I'll not over the +threshold till my lord return from the wars. + +VALERIA +Fie, you confine yourself most unreasonably: come, +you must go visit the good lady that lies in. + +VIRGILIA +I will wish her speedy strength, and visit her with +my prayers; but I cannot go thither. + +VOLUMNIA +Why, I pray you? + +VIRGILIA +'Tis not to save labour, nor that I want love. + +VALERIA +You would be another Penelope: yet, they say, all +the yarn she spun in Ulysses' absence did but fill +Ithaca full of moths. Come; I would your cambric +were sensible as your finger, that you might leave +pricking it for pity. Come, you shall go with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, good madam, pardon me; indeed, I will not forth. + +VALERIA +In truth, la, go with me; and I'll tell you +excellent news of your husband. + +VIRGILIA +O, good madam, there can be none yet. + +VALERIA +Verily, I do not jest with you; there came news from +him last night. + +VIRGILIA +Indeed, madam? + +VALERIA +In earnest, it's true; I heard a senator speak it. +Thus it is: the Volsces have an army forth; against +whom Cominius the general is gone, with one part of +our Roman power: your lord and Titus Lartius are set +down before their city Corioli; they nothing doubt +prevailing and to make it brief wars. This is true, +on mine honour; and so, I pray, go with us. + +VIRGILIA +Give me excuse, good madam; I will obey you in every +thing hereafter. + +VOLUMNIA +Let her alone, lady: as she is now, she will but +disease our better mirth. + +VALERIA +In troth, I think she would. Fare you well, then. +Come, good sweet lady. Prithee, Virgilia, turn thy +solemness out o' door. and go along with us. + +VIRGILIA +No, at a word, madam; indeed, I must not. I wish +you much mirth. + +VALERIA +Well, then, farewell. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Before Corioli. + +Enter, with drum and colours, MARCIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, Captains and Soldiers. To them a Messenger +MARCIUS +Yonder comes news. A wager they have met. + +LARTIUS +My horse to yours, no. + +MARCIUS +'Tis done. + +LARTIUS +Agreed. + +MARCIUS +Say, has our general met the enemy? + +Messenger +They lie in view; but have not spoke as yet. + +LARTIUS +So, the good horse is mine. + +MARCIUS +I'll buy him of you. + +LARTIUS +No, I'll nor sell nor give him: lend you him I will +For half a hundred years. Summon the town. + +MARCIUS +How far off lie these armies? + +Messenger +Within this mile and half. + +MARCIUS +Then shall we hear their 'larum, and they ours. +Now, Mars, I prithee, make us quick in work, +That we with smoking swords may march from hence, +To help our fielded friends! Come, blow thy blast. + +They sound a parley. Enter two Senators with others on the walls + +Tutus Aufidius, is he within your walls? + +First Senator +No, nor a man that fears you less than he, +That's lesser than a little. + +Drums afar off + +Hark! our drums +Are bringing forth our youth. We'll break our walls, +Rather than they shall pound us up: our gates, +Which yet seem shut, we, have but pinn'd with rushes; +They'll open of themselves. + +Alarum afar off + +Hark you. far off! +There is Aufidius; list, what work he makes +Amongst your cloven army. + +MARCIUS +O, they are at it! + +LARTIUS +Their noise be our instruction. Ladders, ho! + +Enter the army of the Volsces + +MARCIUS +They fear us not, but issue forth their city. +Now put your shields before your hearts, and fight +With hearts more proof than shields. Advance, +brave Titus: +They do disdain us much beyond our thoughts, +Which makes me sweat with wrath. Come on, my fellows: +He that retires I'll take him for a Volsce, +And he shall feel mine edge. + +Alarum. The Romans are beat back to their trenches. Re-enter MARCIUS cursing + +MARCIUS +All the contagion of the south light on you, +You shames of Rome! you herd of--Boils and plagues +Plaster you o'er, that you may be abhorr'd +Further than seen and one infect another +Against the wind a mile! You souls of geese, +That bear the shapes of men, how have you run +From slaves that apes would beat! Pluto and hell! +All hurt behind; backs red, and faces pale +With flight and agued fear! Mend and charge home, +Or, by the fires of heaven, I'll leave the foe +And make my wars on you: look to't: come on; +If you'll stand fast, we'll beat them to their wives, +As they us to our trenches followed. + +Another alarum. The Volsces fly, and MARCIUS follows them to the gates + +So, now the gates are ope: now prove good seconds: +'Tis for the followers fortune widens them, +Not for the fliers: mark me, and do the like. + +Enters the gates + +First Soldier +Fool-hardiness; not I. + +Second Soldier +Nor I. + +MARCIUS is shut in + +First Soldier +See, they have shut him in. + +All +To the pot, I warrant him. + +Alarum continues + +Re-enter TITUS LARTIUS + +LARTIUS +What is become of Marcius? + +All +Slain, sir, doubtless. + +First Soldier +Following the fliers at the very heels, +With them he enters; who, upon the sudden, +Clapp'd to their gates: he is himself alone, +To answer all the city. + +LARTIUS +O noble fellow! +Who sensibly outdares his senseless sword, +And, when it bows, stands up. Thou art left, Marcius: +A carbuncle entire, as big as thou art, +Were not so rich a jewel. Thou wast a soldier +Even to Cato's wish, not fierce and terrible +Only in strokes; but, with thy grim looks and +The thunder-like percussion of thy sounds, +Thou madst thine enemies shake, as if the world +Were feverous and did tremble. + +Re-enter MARCIUS, bleeding, assaulted by the enemy + +First Soldier +Look, sir. + +LARTIUS +O,'tis Marcius! +Let's fetch him off, or make remain alike. + +They fight, and all enter the city + +SCENE V. Corioli. A street. + +Enter certain Romans, with spoils +First Roman +This will I carry to Rome. + +Second Roman +And I this. + +Third Roman +A murrain on't! I took this for silver. + +Alarum continues still afar off + +Enter MARCIUS and TITUS LARTIUS with a trumpet + +MARCIUS +See here these movers that do prize their hours +At a crack'd drachm! Cushions, leaden spoons, +Irons of a doit, doublets that hangmen would +Bury with those that wore them, these base slaves, +Ere yet the fight be done, pack up: down with them! +And hark, what noise the general makes! To him! +There is the man of my soul's hate, Aufidius, +Piercing our Romans: then, valiant Titus, take +Convenient numbers to make good the city; +Whilst I, with those that have the spirit, will haste +To help Cominius. + +LARTIUS +Worthy sir, thou bleed'st; +Thy exercise hath been too violent for +A second course of fight. + +MARCIUS +Sir, praise me not; +My work hath yet not warm'd me: fare you well: +The blood I drop is rather physical +Than dangerous to me: to Aufidius thus +I will appear, and fight. + +LARTIUS +Now the fair goddess, Fortune, +Fall deep in love with thee; and her great charms +Misguide thy opposers' swords! Bold gentleman, +Prosperity be thy page! + +MARCIUS +Thy friend no less +Than those she placeth highest! So, farewell. + +LARTIUS +Thou worthiest Marcius! + +Exit MARCIUS + +Go, sound thy trumpet in the market-place; +Call thither all the officers o' the town, +Where they shall know our mind: away! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Near the camp of Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS, as it were in retire, with soldiers +COMINIUS +Breathe you, my friends: well fought; +we are come off +Like Romans, neither foolish in our stands, +Nor cowardly in retire: believe me, sirs, +We shall be charged again. Whiles we have struck, +By interims and conveying gusts we have heard +The charges of our friends. Ye Roman gods! +Lead their successes as we wish our own, +That both our powers, with smiling +fronts encountering, +May give you thankful sacrifice. + +Enter a Messenger + +Thy news? + +Messenger +The citizens of Corioli have issued, +And given to Lartius and to Marcius battle: +I saw our party to their trenches driven, +And then I came away. + +COMINIUS +Though thou speak'st truth, +Methinks thou speak'st not well. +How long is't since? + +Messenger +Above an hour, my lord. + +COMINIUS +'Tis not a mile; briefly we heard their drums: +How couldst thou in a mile confound an hour, +And bring thy news so late? + +Messenger +Spies of the Volsces +Held me in chase, that I was forced to wheel +Three or four miles about, else had I, sir, +Half an hour since brought my report. + +COMINIUS +Who's yonder, +That does appear as he were flay'd? O gods +He has the stamp of Marcius; and I have +Before-time seen him thus. + +MARCIUS +[Within] Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +The shepherd knows not thunder from a tabour +More than I know the sound of Marcius' tongue +From every meaner man. + +Enter MARCIUS + +MARCIUS +Come I too late? + +COMINIUS +Ay, if you come not in the blood of others, +But mantled in your own. + +MARCIUS +O, let me clip ye +In arms as sound as when I woo'd, in heart +As merry as when our nuptial day was done, +And tapers burn'd to bedward! + +COMINIUS +Flower of warriors, +How is it with Titus Lartius? + +MARCIUS +As with a man busied about decrees: +Condemning some to death, and some to exile; +Ransoming him, or pitying, threatening the other; +Holding Corioli in the name of Rome, +Even like a fawning greyhound in the leash, +To let him slip at will. + +COMINIUS +Where is that slave +Which told me they had beat you to your trenches? +Where is he? call him hither. + +MARCIUS +Let him alone; +He did inform the truth: but for our gentlemen, +The common file--a plague! tribunes for them!-- +The mouse ne'er shunn'd the cat as they did budge +From rascals worse than they. + +COMINIUS +But how prevail'd you? + +MARCIUS +Will the time serve to tell? I do not think. +Where is the enemy? are you lords o' the field? +If not, why cease you till you are so? + +COMINIUS +Marcius, +We have at disadvantage fought and did +Retire to win our purpose. + +MARCIUS +How lies their battle? know you on which side +They have placed their men of trust? + +COMINIUS +As I guess, Marcius, +Their bands i' the vaward are the Antiates, +Of their best trust; o'er them Aufidius, +Their very heart of hope. + +MARCIUS +I do beseech you, +By all the battles wherein we have fought, +By the blood we have shed together, by the vows +We have made to endure friends, that you directly +Set me against Aufidius and his Antiates; +And that you not delay the present, but, +Filling the air with swords advanced and darts, +We prove this very hour. + +COMINIUS +Though I could wish +You were conducted to a gentle bath +And balms applied to, you, yet dare I never +Deny your asking: take your choice of those +That best can aid your action. + +MARCIUS +Those are they +That most are willing. If any such be here-- +As it were sin to doubt--that love this painting +Wherein you see me smear'd; if any fear +Lesser his person than an ill report; +If any think brave death outweighs bad life +And that his country's dearer than himself; +Let him alone, or so many so minded, +Wave thus, to express his disposition, +And follow Marcius. + +They all shout and wave their swords, take him up in their arms, and cast up their caps + +O, me alone! make you a sword of me? +If these shows be not outward, which of you +But is four Volsces? none of you but is +Able to bear against the great Aufidius +A shield as hard as his. A certain number, +Though thanks to all, must I select +from all: the rest +Shall bear the business in some other fight, +As cause will be obey'd. Please you to march; +And four shall quickly draw out my command, +Which men are best inclined. + +COMINIUS +March on, my fellows: +Make good this ostentation, and you shall +Divide in all with us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. The gates of Corioli. + +TITUS LARTIUS, having set a guard upon Corioli, going with drum and trumpet toward COMINIUS and CAIUS MARCIUS, enters with Lieutenant, other Soldiers, and a Scout +LARTIUS +So, let the ports be guarded: keep your duties, +As I have set them down. If I do send, dispatch +Those centuries to our aid: the rest will serve +For a short holding: if we lose the field, +We cannot keep the town. + +Lieutenant +Fear not our care, sir. + +LARTIUS +Hence, and shut your gates upon's. +Our guider, come; to the Roman camp conduct us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VIII. A field of battle. + +Alarum as in battle. Enter, from opposite sides, MARCIUS and AUFIDIUS +MARCIUS +I'll fight with none but thee; for I do hate thee +Worse than a promise-breaker. + +AUFIDIUS +We hate alike: +Not Afric owns a serpent I abhor +More than thy fame and envy. Fix thy foot. + +MARCIUS +Let the first budger die the other's slave, +And the gods doom him after! + +AUFIDIUS +If I fly, Marcius, +Holloa me like a hare. + +MARCIUS +Within these three hours, Tullus, +Alone I fought in your Corioli walls, +And made what work I pleased: 'tis not my blood +Wherein thou seest me mask'd; for thy revenge +Wrench up thy power to the highest. + +AUFIDIUS +Wert thou the Hector +That was the whip of your bragg'd progeny, +Thou shouldst not scape me here. + +They fight, and certain Volsces come to the aid of AUFIDIUS. MARCIUS fights till they be driven in breathless + +Officious, and not valiant, you have shamed me +In your condemned seconds. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IX. The Roman camp. + +Flourish. Alarum. A retreat is sounded. Flourish. Enter, from one side, COMINIUS with the Romans; from the other side, MARCIUS, with his arm in a scarf +COMINIUS +If I should tell thee o'er this thy day's work, +Thou'ldst not believe thy deeds: but I'll report it +Where senators shall mingle tears with smiles, +Where great patricians shall attend and shrug, +I' the end admire, where ladies shall be frighted, +And, gladly quaked, hear more; where the +dull tribunes, +That, with the fusty plebeians, hate thine honours, +Shall say against their hearts 'We thank the gods +Our Rome hath such a soldier.' +Yet camest thou to a morsel of this feast, +Having fully dined before. + +Enter TITUS LARTIUS, with his power, from the pursuit + +LARTIUS +O general, +Here is the steed, we the caparison: +Hadst thou beheld-- + +MARCIUS +Pray now, no more: my mother, +Who has a charter to extol her blood, +When she does praise me grieves me. I have done +As you have done; that's what I can; induced +As you have been; that's for my country: +He that has but effected his good will +Hath overta'en mine act. + +COMINIUS +You shall not be +The grave of your deserving; Rome must know +The value of her own: 'twere a concealment +Worse than a theft, no less than a traducement, +To hide your doings; and to silence that, +Which, to the spire and top of praises vouch'd, +Would seem but modest: therefore, I beseech you +In sign of what you are, not to reward +What you have done--before our army hear me. + +MARCIUS +I have some wounds upon me, and they smart +To hear themselves remember'd. + +COMINIUS +Should they not, +Well might they fester 'gainst ingratitude, +And tent themselves with death. Of all the horses, +Whereof we have ta'en good and good store, of all +The treasure in this field achieved and city, +We render you the tenth, to be ta'en forth, +Before the common distribution, at +Your only choice. + +MARCIUS +I thank you, general; +But cannot make my heart consent to take +A bribe to pay my sword: I do refuse it; +And stand upon my common part with those +That have beheld the doing. + +A long flourish. They all cry 'Marcius! Marcius!' cast up their caps and lances: COMINIUS and LARTIUS stand bare + +MARCIUS +May these same instruments, which you profane, +Never sound more! when drums and trumpets shall +I' the field prove flatterers, let courts and cities be +Made all of false-faced soothing! +When steel grows soft as the parasite's silk, +Let him be made a coverture for the wars! +No more, I say! For that I have not wash'd +My nose that bled, or foil'd some debile wretch.-- +Which, without note, here's many else have done,-- +You shout me forth +In acclamations hyperbolical; +As if I loved my little should be dieted +In praises sauced with lies. + +COMINIUS +Too modest are you; +More cruel to your good report than grateful +To us that give you truly: by your patience, +If 'gainst yourself you be incensed, we'll put you, +Like one that means his proper harm, in manacles, +Then reason safely with you. Therefore, be it known, +As to us, to all the world, that Caius Marcius +Wears this war's garland: in token of the which, +My noble steed, known to the camp, I give him, +With all his trim belonging; and from this time, +For what he did before Corioli, call him, +With all the applause and clamour of the host, +CAIUS MARCIUS CORIOLANUS! Bear +The addition nobly ever! + +Flourish. Trumpets sound, and drums + +All +Caius Marcius Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +I will go wash; +And when my face is fair, you shall perceive +Whether I blush or no: howbeit, I thank you. +I mean to stride your steed, and at all times +To undercrest your good addition +To the fairness of my power. + +COMINIUS +So, to our tent; +Where, ere we do repose us, we will write +To Rome of our success. You, Titus Lartius, +Must to Corioli back: send us to Rome +The best, with whom we may articulate, +For their own good and ours. + +LARTIUS +I shall, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +The gods begin to mock me. I, that now +Refused most princely gifts, am bound to beg +Of my lord general. + +COMINIUS +Take't; 'tis yours. What is't? + +CORIOLANUS +I sometime lay here in Corioli +At a poor man's house; he used me kindly: +He cried to me; I saw him prisoner; +But then Aufidius was with in my view, +And wrath o'erwhelm'd my pity: I request you +To give my poor host freedom. + +COMINIUS +O, well begg'd! +Were he the butcher of my son, he should +Be free as is the wind. Deliver him, Titus. + +LARTIUS +Marcius, his name? + +CORIOLANUS +By Jupiter! forgot. +I am weary; yea, my memory is tired. +Have we no wine here? + +COMINIUS +Go we to our tent: +The blood upon your visage dries; 'tis time +It should be look'd to: come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE X. The camp of the Volsces. + +A flourish. Cornets. Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, bloody, with two or three Soldiers +AUFIDIUS +The town is ta'en! + +First Soldier +'Twill be deliver'd back on good condition. + +AUFIDIUS +Condition! +I would I were a Roman; for I cannot, +Being a Volsce, be that I am. Condition! +What good condition can a treaty find +I' the part that is at mercy? Five times, Marcius, +I have fought with thee: so often hast thou beat me, +And wouldst do so, I think, should we encounter +As often as we eat. By the elements, +If e'er again I meet him beard to beard, +He's mine, or I am his: mine emulation +Hath not that honour in't it had; for where +I thought to crush him in an equal force, +True sword to sword, I'll potch at him some way +Or wrath or craft may get him. + +First Soldier +He's the devil. + +AUFIDIUS +Bolder, though not so subtle. My valour's poison'd +With only suffering stain by him; for him +Shall fly out of itself: nor sleep nor sanctuary, +Being naked, sick, nor fane nor Capitol, +The prayers of priests nor times of sacrifice, +Embarquements all of fury, shall lift up +Their rotten privilege and custom 'gainst +My hate to Marcius: where I find him, were it +At home, upon my brother's guard, even there, +Against the hospitable canon, would I +Wash my fierce hand in's heart. Go you to the city; +Learn how 'tis held; and what they are that must +Be hostages for Rome. + +First Soldier +Will not you go? + +AUFIDIUS +I am attended at the cypress grove: I pray you-- +'Tis south the city mills--bring me word thither +How the world goes, that to the pace of it +I may spur on my journey. + +First Soldier +I shall, sir. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS with the two Tribunes of the people, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. +MENENIUS +The augurer tells me we shall have news to-night. + +BRUTUS +Good or bad? + +MENENIUS +Not according to the prayer of the people, for they +love not Marcius. + +SICINIUS +Nature teaches beasts to know their friends. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, who does the wolf love? + +SICINIUS +The lamb. + +MENENIUS +Ay, to devour him; as the hungry plebeians would the +noble Marcius. + +BRUTUS +He's a lamb indeed, that baes like a bear. + +MENENIUS +He's a bear indeed, that lives like a lamb. You two +are old men: tell me one thing that I shall ask you. + +Both +Well, sir. + +MENENIUS +In what enormity is Marcius poor in, that you two +have not in abundance? + +BRUTUS +He's poor in no one fault, but stored with all. + +SICINIUS +Especially in pride. + +BRUTUS +And topping all others in boasting. + +MENENIUS +This is strange now: do you two know how you are +censured here in the city, I mean of us o' the +right-hand file? do you? + +Both +Why, how are we censured? + +MENENIUS +Because you talk of pride now,--will you not be angry? + +Both +Well, well, sir, well. + +MENENIUS +Why, 'tis no great matter; for a very little thief of +occasion will rob you of a great deal of patience: +give your dispositions the reins, and be angry at +your pleasures; at the least if you take it as a +pleasure to you in being so. You blame Marcius for +being proud? + +BRUTUS +We do it not alone, sir. + +MENENIUS +I know you can do very little alone; for your helps +are many, or else your actions would grow wondrous +single: your abilities are too infant-like for +doing much alone. You talk of pride: O that you +could turn your eyes toward the napes of your necks, +and make but an interior survey of your good selves! +O that you could! + +BRUTUS +What then, sir? + +MENENIUS +Why, then you should discover a brace of unmeriting, +proud, violent, testy magistrates, alias fools, as +any in Rome. + +SICINIUS +Menenius, you are known well enough too. + +MENENIUS +I am known to be a humorous patrician, and one that +loves a cup of hot wine with not a drop of allaying +Tiber in't; said to be something imperfect in +favouring the first complaint; hasty and tinder-like +upon too trivial motion; one that converses more +with the buttock of the night than with the forehead +of the morning: what I think I utter, and spend my +malice in my breath. Meeting two such wealsmen as +you are--I cannot call you Lycurguses--if the drink +you give me touch my palate adversely, I make a +crooked face at it. I can't say your worships have +delivered the matter well, when I find the ass in +compound with the major part of your syllables: and +though I must be content to bear with those that say +you are reverend grave men, yet they lie deadly that +tell you you have good faces. If you see this in +the map of my microcosm, follows it that I am known +well enough too? what barm can your bisson +conspectuities glean out of this character, if I be +known well enough too? + +BRUTUS +Come, sir, come, we know you well enough. + +MENENIUS +You know neither me, yourselves nor any thing. You +are ambitious for poor knaves' caps and legs: you +wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a +cause between an orange wife and a fosset-seller; +and then rejourn the controversy of three pence to a +second day of audience. When you are hearing a +matter between party and party, if you chance to be +pinched with the colic, you make faces like +mummers; set up the bloody flag against all +patience; and, in roaring for a chamber-pot, +dismiss the controversy bleeding the more entangled +by your hearing: all the peace you make in their +cause is, calling both the parties knaves. You are +a pair of strange ones. + +BRUTUS +Come, come, you are well understood to be a +perfecter giber for the table than a necessary +bencher in the Capitol. + +MENENIUS +Our very priests must become mockers, if they shall +encounter such ridiculous subjects as you are. When +you speak best unto the purpose, it is not worth the +wagging of your beards; and your beards deserve not +so honourable a grave as to stuff a botcher's +cushion, or to be entombed in an ass's pack- +saddle. Yet you must be saying, Marcius is proud; +who in a cheap estimation, is worth predecessors +since Deucalion, though peradventure some of the +best of 'em were hereditary hangmen. God-den to +your worships: more of your conversation would +infect my brain, being the herdsmen of the beastly +plebeians: I will be bold to take my leave of you. + +BRUTUS and SICINIUS go aside + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and VALERIA + +How now, my as fair as noble ladies,--and the moon, +were she earthly, no nobler,--whither do you follow +your eyes so fast? + +VOLUMNIA +Honourable Menenius, my boy Marcius approaches; for +the love of Juno, let's go. + +MENENIUS +Ha! Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, worthy Menenius; and with most prosperous +approbation. + +MENENIUS +Take my cap, Jupiter, and I thank thee. Hoo! +Marcius coming home! + +VOLUMNIA VIRGILIA +Nay,'tis true. + +VOLUMNIA +Look, here's a letter from him: the state hath +another, his wife another; and, I think, there's one +at home for you. + +MENENIUS +I will make my very house reel tonight: a letter for +me! + +VIRGILIA +Yes, certain, there's a letter for you; I saw't. + +MENENIUS +A letter for me! it gives me an estate of seven +years' health; in which time I will make a lip at +the physician: the most sovereign prescription in +Galen is but empiricutic, and, to this preservative, +of no better report than a horse-drench. Is he +not wounded? he was wont to come home wounded. + +VIRGILIA +O, no, no, no. + +VOLUMNIA +O, he is wounded; I thank the gods for't. + +MENENIUS +So do I too, if it be not too much: brings a' +victory in his pocket? the wounds become him. + +VOLUMNIA +On's brows: Menenius, he comes the third time home +with the oaken garland. + +MENENIUS +Has he disciplined Aufidius soundly? + +VOLUMNIA +Titus Lartius writes, they fought together, but +Aufidius got off. + +MENENIUS +And 'twas time for him too, I'll warrant him that: +an he had stayed by him, I would not have been so +fidiused for all the chests in Corioli, and the gold +that's in them. Is the senate possessed of this? + +VOLUMNIA +Good ladies, let's go. Yes, yes, yes; the senate +has letters from the general, wherein he gives my +son the whole name of the war: he hath in this +action outdone his former deeds doubly + +VALERIA +In troth, there's wondrous things spoke of him. + +MENENIUS +Wondrous! ay, I warrant you, and not without his +true purchasing. + +VIRGILIA +The gods grant them true! + +VOLUMNIA +True! pow, wow. + +MENENIUS +True! I'll be sworn they are true. +Where is he wounded? + +To the Tribunes + +God save your good worships! Marcius is coming +home: he has more cause to be proud. Where is he wounded? + +VOLUMNIA +I' the shoulder and i' the left arm there will be +large cicatrices to show the people, when he shall +stand for his place. He received in the repulse of +Tarquin seven hurts i' the body. + +MENENIUS +One i' the neck, and two i' the thigh,--there's +nine that I know. + +VOLUMNIA +He had, before this last expedition, twenty-five +wounds upon him. + +MENENIUS +Now it's twenty-seven: every gash was an enemy's grave. + +A shout and flourish + +Hark! the trumpets. + +VOLUMNIA +These are the ushers of Marcius: before him he +carries noise, and behind him he leaves tears: +Death, that dark spirit, in 's nervy arm doth lie; +Which, being advanced, declines, and then men die. + +A sennet. Trumpets sound. Enter COMINIUS the general, and TITUS LARTIUS; between them, CORIOLANUS, crowned with an oaken garland; with Captains and Soldiers, and a Herald + +Herald +Know, Rome, that all alone Marcius did fight +Within Corioli gates: where he hath won, +With fame, a name to Caius Marcius; these +In honour follows Coriolanus. +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +Flourish + +All +Welcome to Rome, renowned Coriolanus! + +CORIOLANUS +No more of this; it does offend my heart: +Pray now, no more. + +COMINIUS +Look, sir, your mother! + +CORIOLANUS +O, +You have, I know, petition'd all the gods +For my prosperity! + +Kneels + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, my good soldier, up; +My gentle Marcius, worthy Caius, and +By deed-achieving honour newly named,-- +What is it?--Coriolanus must I call thee?-- +But O, thy wife! + +CORIOLANUS +My gracious silence, hail! +Wouldst thou have laugh'd had I come coffin'd home, +That weep'st to see me triumph? Ay, my dear, +Such eyes the widows in Corioli wear, +And mothers that lack sons. + +MENENIUS +Now, the gods crown thee! + +CORIOLANUS +And live you yet? + +To VALERIA + +O my sweet lady, pardon. + +VOLUMNIA +I know not where to turn: O, welcome home: +And welcome, general: and ye're welcome all. + +MENENIUS +A hundred thousand welcomes. I could weep +And I could laugh, I am light and heavy. Welcome. +A curse begin at very root on's heart, +That is not glad to see thee! You are three +That Rome should dote on: yet, by the faith of men, +We have some old crab-trees here +at home that will not +Be grafted to your relish. Yet welcome, warriors: +We call a nettle but a nettle and +The faults of fools but folly. + +COMINIUS +Ever right. + +CORIOLANUS +Menenius ever, ever. + +Herald +Give way there, and go on! + +CORIOLANUS +[To VOLUMNIA and VIRGILIA] Your hand, and yours: +Ere in our own house I do shade my head, +The good patricians must be visited; +From whom I have received not only greetings, +But with them change of honours. + +VOLUMNIA +I have lived +To see inherited my very wishes +And the buildings of my fancy: only +There's one thing wanting, which I doubt not but +Our Rome will cast upon thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Know, good mother, +I had rather be their servant in my way, +Than sway with them in theirs. + +COMINIUS +On, to the Capitol! + +Flourish. Cornets. Exeunt in state, as before. BRUTUS and SICINIUS come forward + +BRUTUS +All tongues speak of him, and the bleared sights +Are spectacled to see him: your prattling nurse +Into a rapture lets her baby cry +While she chats him: the kitchen malkin pins +Her richest lockram 'bout her reechy neck, +Clambering the walls to eye him: stalls, bulks, windows, +Are smother'd up, leads fill'd, and ridges horsed +With variable complexions, all agreeing +In earnestness to see him: seld-shown flamens +Do press among the popular throngs and puff +To win a vulgar station: or veil'd dames +Commit the war of white and damask in +Their nicely-gawded cheeks to the wanton spoil +Of Phoebus' burning kisses: such a pother +As if that whatsoever god who leads him +Were slily crept into his human powers +And gave him graceful posture. + +SICINIUS +On the sudden, +I warrant him consul. + +BRUTUS +Then our office may, +During his power, go sleep. + +SICINIUS +He cannot temperately transport his honours +From where he should begin and end, but will +Lose those he hath won. + +BRUTUS +In that there's comfort. + +SICINIUS +Doubt not +The commoners, for whom we stand, but they +Upon their ancient malice will forget +With the least cause these his new honours, which +That he will give them make I as little question +As he is proud to do't. + +BRUTUS +I heard him swear, +Were he to stand for consul, never would he +Appear i' the market-place nor on him put +The napless vesture of humility; +Nor showing, as the manner is, his wounds +To the people, beg their stinking breaths. + +SICINIUS +'Tis right. + +BRUTUS +It was his word: O, he would miss it rather +Than carry it but by the suit of the gentry to him, +And the desire of the nobles. + +SICINIUS +I wish no better +Than have him hold that purpose and to put it +In execution. + +BRUTUS +'Tis most like he will. + +SICINIUS +It shall be to him then as our good wills, +A sure destruction. + +BRUTUS +So it must fall out +To him or our authorities. For an end, +We must suggest the people in what hatred +He still hath held them; that to's power he would +Have made them mules, silenced their pleaders and +Dispropertied their freedoms, holding them, +In human action and capacity, +Of no more soul nor fitness for the world +Than camels in the war, who have their provand +Only for bearing burdens, and sore blows +For sinking under them. + +SICINIUS +This, as you say, suggested +At some time when his soaring insolence +Shall touch the people--which time shall not want, +If he be put upon 't; and that's as easy +As to set dogs on sheep--will be his fire +To kindle their dry stubble; and their blaze +Shall darken him for ever. + +Enter a Messenger + +BRUTUS +What's the matter? + +Messenger +You are sent for to the Capitol. 'Tis thought +That Marcius shall be consul: +I have seen the dumb men throng to see him and +The blind to bear him speak: matrons flung gloves, +Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchers, +Upon him as he pass'd: the nobles bended, +As to Jove's statue, and the commons made +A shower and thunder with their caps and shouts: +I never saw the like. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol; +And carry with us ears and eyes for the time, +But hearts for the event. + +SICINIUS +Have with you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. The Capitol. + +Enter two Officers, to lay cushions +First Officer +Come, come, they are almost here. How many stand +for consulships? + +Second Officer +Three, they say: but 'tis thought of every one +Coriolanus will carry it. + +First Officer +That's a brave fellow; but he's vengeance proud, and +loves not the common people. + +Second Officer +Faith, there had been many great men that have +flattered the people, who ne'er loved them; and there +be many that they have loved, they know not +wherefore: so that, if they love they know not why, +they hate upon no better a ground: therefore, for +Coriolanus neither to care whether they love or hate +him manifests the true knowledge he has in their +disposition; and out of his noble carelessness lets +them plainly see't. + +First Officer +If he did not care whether he had their love or no, +he waved indifferently 'twixt doing them neither +good nor harm: but he seeks their hate with greater +devotion than can render it him; and leaves +nothing undone that may fully discover him their +opposite. Now, to seem to affect the malice and +displeasure of the people is as bad as that which he +dislikes, to flatter them for their love. + +Second Officer +He hath deserved worthily of his country: and his +ascent is not by such easy degrees as those who, +having been supple and courteous to the people, +bonneted, without any further deed to have them at +an into their estimation and report: but he hath so +planted his honours in their eyes, and his actions +in their hearts, that for their tongues to be +silent, and not confess so much, were a kind of +ingrateful injury; to report otherwise, were a +malice, that, giving itself the lie, would pluck +reproof and rebuke from every ear that heard it. + +First Officer +No more of him; he is a worthy man: make way, they +are coming. + +A sennet. Enter, with actors before them, COMINIUS the consul, MENENIUS, CORIOLANUS, Senators, SICINIUS and BRUTUS. The Senators take their places; the Tribunes take their Places by themselves. CORIOLANUS stands + +MENENIUS +Having determined of the Volsces and +To send for Titus Lartius, it remains, +As the main point of this our after-meeting, +To gratify his noble service that +Hath thus stood for his country: therefore, +please you, +Most reverend and grave elders, to desire +The present consul, and last general +In our well-found successes, to report +A little of that worthy work perform'd +By Caius Marcius Coriolanus, whom +We met here both to thank and to remember +With honours like himself. + +First Senator +Speak, good Cominius: +Leave nothing out for length, and make us think +Rather our state's defective for requital +Than we to stretch it out. + +To the Tribunes + +Masters o' the people, +We do request your kindest ears, and after, +Your loving motion toward the common body, +To yield what passes here. + +SICINIUS +We are convented +Upon a pleasing treaty, and have hearts +Inclinable to honour and advance +The theme of our assembly. + +BRUTUS +Which the rather +We shall be blest to do, if he remember +A kinder value of the people than +He hath hereto prized them at. + +MENENIUS +That's off, that's off; +I would you rather had been silent. Please you +To hear Cominius speak? + +BRUTUS +Most willingly; +But yet my caution was more pertinent +Than the rebuke you give it. + +MENENIUS +He loves your people +But tie him not to be their bedfellow. +Worthy Cominius, speak. + +CORIOLANUS offers to go away + +Nay, keep your place. + +First Senator +Sit, Coriolanus; never shame to hear +What you have nobly done. + +CORIOLANUS +Your horror's pardon: +I had rather have my wounds to heal again +Than hear say how I got them. + +BRUTUS +Sir, I hope +My words disbench'd you not. + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir: yet oft, +When blows have made me stay, I fled from words. +You soothed not, therefore hurt not: but +your people, +I love them as they weigh. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, sit down. + +CORIOLANUS +I had rather have one scratch my head i' the sun +When the alarum were struck than idly sit +To hear my nothings monster'd. + +Exit + +MENENIUS +Masters of the people, +Your multiplying spawn how can he flatter-- +That's thousand to one good one--when you now see +He had rather venture all his limbs for honour +Than one on's ears to hear it? Proceed, Cominius. + +COMINIUS +I shall lack voice: the deeds of Coriolanus +Should not be utter'd feebly. It is held +That valour is the chiefest virtue, and +Most dignifies the haver: if it be, +The man I speak of cannot in the world +Be singly counterpoised. At sixteen years, +When Tarquin made a head for Rome, he fought +Beyond the mark of others: our then dictator, +Whom with all praise I point at, saw him fight, +When with his Amazonian chin he drove +The bristled lips before him: be bestrid +An o'er-press'd Roman and i' the consul's view +Slew three opposers: Tarquin's self he met, +And struck him on his knee: in that day's feats, +When he might act the woman in the scene, +He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed +Was brow-bound with the oak. His pupil age +Man-enter'd thus, he waxed like a sea, +And in the brunt of seventeen battles since +He lurch'd all swords of the garland. For this last, +Before and in Corioli, let me say, +I cannot speak him home: he stopp'd the fliers; +And by his rare example made the coward +Turn terror into sport: as weeds before +A vessel under sail, so men obey'd +And fell below his stem: his sword, death's stamp, +Where it did mark, it took; from face to foot +He was a thing of blood, whose every motion +Was timed with dying cries: alone he enter'd +The mortal gate of the city, which he painted +With shunless destiny; aidless came off, +And with a sudden reinforcement struck +Corioli like a planet: now all's his: +When, by and by, the din of war gan pierce +His ready sense; then straight his doubled spirit +Re-quicken'd what in flesh was fatigate, +And to the battle came he; where he did +Run reeking o'er the lives of men, as if +'Twere a perpetual spoil: and till we call'd +Both field and city ours, he never stood +To ease his breast with panting. + +MENENIUS +Worthy man! + +First Senator +He cannot but with measure fit the honours +Which we devise him. + +COMINIUS +Our spoils he kick'd at, +And look'd upon things precious as they were +The common muck of the world: he covets less +Than misery itself would give; rewards +His deeds with doing them, and is content +To spend the time to end it. + +MENENIUS +He's right noble: +Let him be call'd for. + +First Senator +Call Coriolanus. + +Officer +He doth appear. + +Re-enter CORIOLANUS + +MENENIUS +The senate, Coriolanus, are well pleased +To make thee consul. + +CORIOLANUS +I do owe them still +My life and services. + +MENENIUS +It then remains +That you do speak to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +I do beseech you, +Let me o'erleap that custom, for I cannot +Put on the gown, stand naked and entreat them, +For my wounds' sake, to give their suffrage: please you +That I may pass this doing. + +SICINIUS +Sir, the people +Must have their voices; neither will they bate +One jot of ceremony. + +MENENIUS +Put them not to't: +Pray you, go fit you to the custom and +Take to you, as your predecessors have, +Your honour with your form. + +CORIOLANUS +It is apart +That I shall blush in acting, and might well +Be taken from the people. + +BRUTUS +Mark you that? + +CORIOLANUS +To brag unto them, thus I did, and thus; +Show them the unaching scars which I should hide, +As if I had received them for the hire +Of their breath only! + +MENENIUS +Do not stand upon't. +We recommend to you, tribunes of the people, +Our purpose to them: and to our noble consul +Wish we all joy and honour. + +Senators +To Coriolanus come all joy and honour! + +Flourish of cornets. Exeunt all but SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +BRUTUS +You see how he intends to use the people. + +SICINIUS +May they perceive's intent! He will require them, +As if he did contemn what he requested +Should be in them to give. + +BRUTUS +Come, we'll inform them +Of our proceedings here: on the marketplace, +I know, they do attend us. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter seven or eight Citizens +First Citizen +Once, if he do require our voices, we ought not to deny him. + +Second Citizen +We may, sir, if we will. + +Third Citizen +We have power in ourselves to do it, but it is a +power that we have no power to do; for if he show us +his wounds and tell us his deeds, we are to put our +tongues into those wounds and speak for them; so, if +he tell us his noble deeds, we must also tell him +our noble acceptance of them. Ingratitude is +monstrous, and for the multitude to be ingrateful, +were to make a monster of the multitude: of the +which we being members, should bring ourselves to be +monstrous members. + +First Citizen +And to make us no better thought of, a little help +will serve; for once we stood up about the corn, he +himself stuck not to call us the many-headed multitude. + +Third Citizen +We have been called so of many; not that our heads +are some brown, some black, some auburn, some bald, +but that our wits are so diversely coloured: and +truly I think if all our wits were to issue out of +one skull, they would fly east, west, north, south, +and their consent of one direct way should be at +once to all the points o' the compass. + +Second Citizen +Think you so? Which way do you judge my wit would +fly? + +Third Citizen +Nay, your wit will not so soon out as another man's +will;'tis strongly wedged up in a block-head, but +if it were at liberty, 'twould, sure, southward. + +Second Citizen +Why that way? + +Third Citizen +To lose itself in a fog, where being three parts +melted away with rotten dews, the fourth would return +for conscience sake, to help to get thee a wife. + +Second Citizen +You are never without your tricks: you may, you may. + +Third Citizen +Are you all resolved to give your voices? But +that's no matter, the greater part carries it. I +say, if he would incline to the people, there was +never a worthier man. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in a gown of humility, with MENENIUS + +Here he comes, and in the gown of humility: mark his +behavior. We are not to stay all together, but to +come by him where he stands, by ones, by twos, and +by threes. He's to make his requests by +particulars; wherein every one of us has a single +honour, in giving him our own voices with our own +tongues: therefore follow me, and I direct you how +you shall go by him. + +All +Content, content. + +Exeunt Citizens + +MENENIUS +O sir, you are not right: have you not known +The worthiest men have done't? + +CORIOLANUS +What must I say? +'I Pray, sir'--Plague upon't! I cannot bring +My tongue to such a pace:--'Look, sir, my wounds! +I got them in my country's service, when +Some certain of your brethren roar'd and ran +From the noise of our own drums.' + +MENENIUS +O me, the gods! +You must not speak of that: you must desire them +To think upon you. + +CORIOLANUS +Think upon me! hang 'em! +I would they would forget me, like the virtues +Which our divines lose by 'em. + +MENENIUS +You'll mar all: +I'll leave you: pray you, speak to 'em, I pray you, +In wholesome manner. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +Bid them wash their faces +And keep their teeth clean. + +Re-enter two of the Citizens + +So, here comes a brace. + +Re-enter a third Citizen + +You know the cause, air, of my standing here. + +Third Citizen +We do, sir; tell us what hath brought you to't. + +CORIOLANUS +Mine own desert. + +Second Citizen +Your own desert! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, but not mine own desire. + +Third Citizen +How not your own desire? + +CORIOLANUS +No, sir,'twas never my desire yet to trouble the +poor with begging. + +Third Citizen +You must think, if we give you any thing, we hope to +gain by you. + +CORIOLANUS +Well then, I pray, your price o' the consulship? + +First Citizen +The price is to ask it kindly. + +CORIOLANUS +Kindly! Sir, I pray, let me ha't: I have wounds to +show you, which shall be yours in private. Your +good voice, sir; what say you? + +Second Citizen +You shall ha' it, worthy sir. + +CORIOLANUS +A match, sir. There's in all two worthy voices +begged. I have your alms: adieu. + +Third Citizen +But this is something odd. + +Second Citizen +An 'twere to give again,--but 'tis no matter. + +Exeunt the three Citizens + +Re-enter two other Citizens + +CORIOLANUS +Pray you now, if it may stand with the tune of your +voices that I may be consul, I have here the +customary gown. + +Fourth Citizen +You have deserved nobly of your country, and you +have not deserved nobly. + +CORIOLANUS +Your enigma? + +Fourth Citizen +You have been a scourge to her enemies, you have +been a rod to her friends; you have not indeed loved +the common people. + +CORIOLANUS +You should account me the more virtuous that I have +not been common in my love. I will, sir, flatter my +sworn brother, the people, to earn a dearer +estimation of them; 'tis a condition they account +gentle: and since the wisdom of their choice is +rather to have my hat than my heart, I will practise +the insinuating nod and be off to them most +counterfeitly; that is, sir, I will counterfeit the +bewitchment of some popular man and give it +bountiful to the desirers. Therefore, beseech you, +I may be consul. + +Fifth Citizen +We hope to find you our friend; and therefore give +you our voices heartily. + +Fourth Citizen +You have received many wounds for your country. + +CORIOLANUS +I will not seal your knowledge with showing them. I +will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further. + +Both Citizens +The gods give you joy, sir, heartily! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Most sweet voices! +Better it is to die, better to starve, +Than crave the hire which first we do deserve. +Why in this woolvish toge should I stand here, +To beg of Hob and Dick, that do appear, +Their needless vouches? Custom calls me to't: +What custom wills, in all things should we do't, +The dust on antique time would lie unswept, +And mountainous error be too highly heapt +For truth to o'er-peer. Rather than fool it so, +Let the high office and the honour go +To one that would do thus. I am half through; +The one part suffer'd, the other will I do. + +Re-enter three Citizens more + +Here come more voices. +Your voices: for your voices I have fought; +Watch'd for your voices; for Your voices bear +Of wounds two dozen odd; battles thrice six +I have seen and heard of; for your voices have +Done many things, some less, some more your voices: +Indeed I would be consul. + +Sixth Citizen +He has done nobly, and cannot go without any honest +man's voice. + +Seventh Citizen +Therefore let him be consul: the gods give him joy, +and make him good friend to the people! + +All Citizens +Amen, amen. God save thee, noble consul! + +Exeunt + +CORIOLANUS +Worthy voices! + +Re-enter MENENIUS, with BRUTUS and SICINIUS + +MENENIUS +You have stood your limitation; and the tribunes +Endue you with the people's voice: remains +That, in the official marks invested, you +Anon do meet the senate. + +CORIOLANUS +Is this done? + +SICINIUS +The custom of request you have discharged: +The people do admit you, and are summon'd +To meet anon, upon your approbation. + +CORIOLANUS +Where? at the senate-house? + +SICINIUS +There, Coriolanus. + +CORIOLANUS +May I change these garments? + +SICINIUS +You may, sir. + +CORIOLANUS +That I'll straight do; and, knowing myself again, +Repair to the senate-house. + +MENENIUS +I'll keep you company. Will you along? + +BRUTUS +We stay here for the people. + +SICINIUS +Fare you well. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and MENENIUS + +He has it now, and by his looks methink +'Tis warm at 's heart. + +BRUTUS +With a proud heart he wore his humble weeds. +will you dismiss the people? + +Re-enter Citizens + +SICINIUS +How now, my masters! have you chose this man? + +First Citizen +He has our voices, sir. + +BRUTUS +We pray the gods he may deserve your loves. + +Second Citizen +Amen, sir: to my poor unworthy notice, +He mock'd us when he begg'd our voices. + +Third Citizen +Certainly +He flouted us downright. + +First Citizen +No,'tis his kind of speech: he did not mock us. + +Second Citizen +Not one amongst us, save yourself, but says +He used us scornfully: he should have show'd us +His marks of merit, wounds received for's country. + +SICINIUS +Why, so he did, I am sure. + +Citizens +No, no; no man saw 'em. + +Third Citizen +He said he had wounds, which he could show +in private; +And with his hat, thus waving it in scorn, +'I would be consul,' says he: 'aged custom, +But by your voices, will not so permit me; +Your voices therefore.' When we granted that, +Here was 'I thank you for your voices: thank you: +Your most sweet voices: now you have left +your voices, +I have no further with you.' Was not this mockery? + +SICINIUS +Why either were you ignorant to see't, +Or, seeing it, of such childish friendliness +To yield your voices? + +BRUTUS +Could you not have told him +As you were lesson'd, when he had no power, +But was a petty servant to the state, +He was your enemy, ever spake against +Your liberties and the charters that you bear +I' the body of the weal; and now, arriving +A place of potency and sway o' the state, +If he should still malignantly remain +Fast foe to the plebeii, your voices might +Be curses to yourselves? You should have said +That as his worthy deeds did claim no less +Than what he stood for, so his gracious nature +Would think upon you for your voices and +Translate his malice towards you into love, +Standing your friendly lord. + +SICINIUS +Thus to have said, +As you were fore-advised, had touch'd his spirit +And tried his inclination; from him pluck'd +Either his gracious promise, which you might, +As cause had call'd you up, have held him to +Or else it would have gall'd his surly nature, +Which easily endures not article +Tying him to aught; so putting him to rage, +You should have ta'en the advantage of his choler +And pass'd him unelected. + +BRUTUS +Did you perceive +He did solicit you in free contempt +When he did need your loves, and do you think +That his contempt shall not be bruising to you, +When he hath power to crush? Why, had your bodies +No heart among you? or had you tongues to cry +Against the rectorship of judgment? + +SICINIUS +Have you +Ere now denied the asker? and now again +Of him that did not ask, but mock, bestow +Your sued-for tongues? + +Third Citizen +He's not confirm'd; we may deny him yet. + +Second Citizen +And will deny him: +I'll have five hundred voices of that sound. + +First Citizen +I twice five hundred and their friends to piece 'em. + +BRUTUS +Get you hence instantly, and tell those friends, +They have chose a consul that will from them take +Their liberties; make them of no more voice +Than dogs that are as often beat for barking +As therefore kept to do so. + +SICINIUS +Let them assemble, +And on a safer judgment all revoke +Your ignorant election; enforce his pride, +And his old hate unto you; besides, forget not +With what contempt he wore the humble weed, +How in his suit he scorn'd you; but your loves, +Thinking upon his services, took from you +The apprehension of his present portance, +Which most gibingly, ungravely, he did fashion +After the inveterate hate he bears you. + +BRUTUS +Lay +A fault on us, your tribunes; that we laboured, +No impediment between, but that you must +Cast your election on him. + +SICINIUS +Say, you chose him +More after our commandment than as guided +By your own true affections, and that your minds, +Preoccupied with what you rather must do +Than what you should, made you against the grain +To voice him consul: lay the fault on us. + +BRUTUS +Ay, spare us not. Say we read lectures to you. +How youngly he began to serve his country, +How long continued, and what stock he springs of, +The noble house o' the Marcians, from whence came +That Ancus Marcius, Numa's daughter's son, +Who, after great Hostilius, here was king; +Of the same house Publius and Quintus were, +That our beat water brought by conduits hither; +And [Censorinus,] nobly named so, +Twice being [by the people chosen] censor, +Was his great ancestor. + +SICINIUS +One thus descended, +That hath beside well in his person wrought +To be set high in place, we did commend +To your remembrances: but you have found, +Scaling his present bearing with his past, +That he's your fixed enemy, and revoke +Your sudden approbation. + +BRUTUS +Say, you ne'er had done't-- +Harp on that still--but by our putting on; +And presently, when you have drawn your number, +Repair to the Capitol. + +All +We will so: almost all +Repent in their election. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +Let them go on; +This mutiny were better put in hazard, +Than stay, past doubt, for greater: +If, as his nature is, he fall in rage +With their refusal, both observe and answer +The vantage of his anger. + +SICINIUS +To the Capitol, come: +We will be there before the stream o' the people; +And this shall seem, as partly 'tis, their own, +Which we have goaded onward. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Cornets. Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, all the Gentry, COMINIUS, TITUS LARTIUS, and other Senators +CORIOLANUS +Tullus Aufidius then had made new head? + +LARTIUS +He had, my lord; and that it was which caused +Our swifter composition. + +CORIOLANUS +So then the Volsces stand but as at first, +Ready, when time shall prompt them, to make road. +Upon's again. + +COMINIUS +They are worn, lord consul, so, +That we shall hardly in our ages see +Their banners wave again. + +CORIOLANUS +Saw you Aufidius? + +LARTIUS +On safe-guard he came to me; and did curse +Against the Volsces, for they had so vilely +Yielded the town: he is retired to Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +Spoke he of me? + +LARTIUS +He did, my lord. + +CORIOLANUS +How? what? + +LARTIUS +How often he had met you, sword to sword; +That of all things upon the earth he hated +Your person most, that he would pawn his fortunes +To hopeless restitution, so he might +Be call'd your vanquisher. + +CORIOLANUS +At Antium lives he? + +LARTIUS +At Antium. + +CORIOLANUS +I wish I had a cause to seek him there, +To oppose his hatred fully. Welcome home. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS + +Behold, these are the tribunes of the people, +The tongues o' the common mouth: I do despise them; +For they do prank them in authority, +Against all noble sufferance. + +SICINIUS +Pass no further. + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! what is that? + +BRUTUS +It will be dangerous to go on: no further. + +CORIOLANUS +What makes this change? + +MENENIUS +The matter? + +COMINIUS +Hath he not pass'd the noble and the common? + +BRUTUS +Cominius, no. + +CORIOLANUS +Have I had children's voices? + +First Senator +Tribunes, give way; he shall to the market-place. + +BRUTUS +The people are incensed against him. + +SICINIUS +Stop, +Or all will fall in broil. + +CORIOLANUS +Are these your herd? +Must these have voices, that can yield them now +And straight disclaim their tongues? What are +your offices? +You being their mouths, why rule you not their teeth? +Have you not set them on? + +MENENIUS +Be calm, be calm. + +CORIOLANUS +It is a purposed thing, and grows by plot, +To curb the will of the nobility: +Suffer't, and live with such as cannot rule +Nor ever will be ruled. + +BRUTUS +Call't not a plot: +The people cry you mock'd them, and of late, +When corn was given them gratis, you repined; +Scandal'd the suppliants for the people, call'd them +Time-pleasers, flatterers, foes to nobleness. + +CORIOLANUS +Why, this was known before. + +BRUTUS +Not to them all. + +CORIOLANUS +Have you inform'd them sithence? + +BRUTUS +How! I inform them! + +CORIOLANUS +You are like to do such business. + +BRUTUS +Not unlike, +Each way, to better yours. + +CORIOLANUS +Why then should I be consul? By yond clouds, +Let me deserve so ill as you, and make me +Your fellow tribune. + +SICINIUS +You show too much of that +For which the people stir: if you will pass +To where you are bound, you must inquire your way, +Which you are out of, with a gentler spirit, +Or never be so noble as a consul, +Nor yoke with him for tribune. + +MENENIUS +Let's be calm. + +COMINIUS +The people are abused; set on. This paltering +Becomes not Rome, nor has Coriolanus +Deserved this so dishonour'd rub, laid falsely +I' the plain way of his merit. + +CORIOLANUS +Tell me of corn! +This was my speech, and I will speak't again-- + +MENENIUS +Not now, not now. + +First Senator +Not in this heat, sir, now. + +CORIOLANUS +Now, as I live, I will. My nobler friends, +I crave their pardons: +For the mutable, rank-scented many, let them +Regard me as I do not flatter, and +Therein behold themselves: I say again, +In soothing them, we nourish 'gainst our senate +The cockle of rebellion, insolence, sedition, +Which we ourselves have plough'd for, sow'd, +and scatter'd, +By mingling them with us, the honour'd number, +Who lack not virtue, no, nor power, but that +Which they have given to beggars. + +MENENIUS +Well, no more. + +First Senator +No more words, we beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +How! no more! +As for my country I have shed my blood, +Not fearing outward force, so shall my lungs +Coin words till their decay against those measles, +Which we disdain should tatter us, yet sought +The very way to catch them. + +BRUTUS +You speak o' the people, +As if you were a god to punish, not +A man of their infirmity. + +SICINIUS +'Twere well +We let the people know't. + +MENENIUS +What, what? his choler? + +CORIOLANUS +Choler! +Were I as patient as the midnight sleep, +By Jove, 'twould be my mind! + +SICINIUS +It is a mind +That shall remain a poison where it is, +Not poison any further. + +CORIOLANUS +Shall remain! +Hear you this Triton of the minnows? mark you +His absolute 'shall'? + +COMINIUS +'Twas from the canon. + +CORIOLANUS +'Shall'! +O good but most unwise patricians! why, +You grave but reckless senators, have you thus +Given Hydra here to choose an officer, +That with his peremptory 'shall,' being but +The horn and noise o' the monster's, wants not spirit +To say he'll turn your current in a ditch, +And make your channel his? If he have power +Then vail your ignorance; if none, awake +Your dangerous lenity. If you are learn'd, +Be not as common fools; if you are not, +Let them have cushions by you. You are plebeians, +If they be senators: and they are no less, +When, both your voices blended, the great'st taste +Most palates theirs. They choose their magistrate, +And such a one as he, who puts his 'shall,' +His popular 'shall' against a graver bench +Than ever frown in Greece. By Jove himself! +It makes the consuls base: and my soul aches +To know, when two authorities are up, +Neither supreme, how soon confusion +May enter 'twixt the gap of both and take +The one by the other. + +COMINIUS +Well, on to the market-place. + +CORIOLANUS +Whoever gave that counsel, to give forth +The corn o' the storehouse gratis, as 'twas used +Sometime in Greece,-- + +MENENIUS +Well, well, no more of that. + +CORIOLANUS +Though there the people had more absolute power, +I say, they nourish'd disobedience, fed +The ruin of the state. + +BRUTUS +Why, shall the people give +One that speaks thus their voice? + +CORIOLANUS +I'll give my reasons, +More worthier than their voices. They know the corn +Was not our recompense, resting well assured +That ne'er did service for't: being press'd to the war, +Even when the navel of the state was touch'd, +They would not thread the gates. This kind of service +Did not deserve corn gratis. Being i' the war +Their mutinies and revolts, wherein they show'd +Most valour, spoke not for them: the accusation +Which they have often made against the senate, +All cause unborn, could never be the motive +Of our so frank donation. Well, what then? +How shall this bisson multitude digest +The senate's courtesy? Let deeds express +What's like to be their words: 'we did request it; +We are the greater poll, and in true fear +They gave us our demands.' Thus we debase +The nature of our seats and make the rabble +Call our cares fears; which will in time +Break ope the locks o' the senate and bring in +The crows to peck the eagles. + +MENENIUS +Come, enough. + +BRUTUS +Enough, with over-measure. + +CORIOLANUS +No, take more: +What may be sworn by, both divine and human, +Seal what I end withal! This double worship, +Where one part does disdain with cause, the other +Insult without all reason, where gentry, title, wisdom, +Cannot conclude but by the yea and no +Of general ignorance,--it must omit +Real necessities, and give way the while +To unstable slightness: purpose so barr'd, +it follows, +Nothing is done to purpose. Therefore, beseech you,-- +You that will be less fearful than discreet, +That love the fundamental part of state +More than you doubt the change on't, that prefer +A noble life before a long, and wish +To jump a body with a dangerous physic +That's sure of death without it, at once pluck out +The multitudinous tongue; let them not lick +The sweet which is their poison: your dishonour +Mangles true judgment and bereaves the state +Of that integrity which should become't, +Not having the power to do the good it would, +For the in which doth control't. + +BRUTUS +Has said enough. + +SICINIUS +Has spoken like a traitor, and shall answer +As traitors do. + +CORIOLANUS +Thou wretch, despite o'erwhelm thee! +What should the people do with these bald tribunes? +On whom depending, their obedience fails +To the greater bench: in a rebellion, +When what's not meet, but what must be, was law, +Then were they chosen: in a better hour, +Let what is meet be said it must be meet, +And throw their power i' the dust. + +BRUTUS +Manifest treason! + +SICINIUS +This a consul? no. + +BRUTUS +The aediles, ho! + +Enter an AEdile + +Let him be apprehended. + +SICINIUS +Go, call the people: + +Exit AEdile + +in whose name myself +Attach thee as a traitorous innovator, +A foe to the public weal: obey, I charge thee, +And follow to thine answer. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, old goat! +Senators, & C We'll surety him. + +COMINIUS +Aged sir, hands off. + +CORIOLANUS +Hence, rotten thing! or I shall shake thy bones +Out of thy garments. + +SICINIUS +Help, ye citizens! + +Enter a rabble of Citizens (Plebeians), with the AEdiles + +MENENIUS +On both sides more respect. + +SICINIUS +Here's he that would take from you all your power. + +BRUTUS +Seize him, AEdiles! + +Citizens +Down with him! down with him! +Senators, & C Weapons, weapons, weapons! + +They all bustle about CORIOLANUS, crying + +'Tribunes!' 'Patricians!' 'Citizens!' 'What, ho!' +'Sicinius!' 'Brutus!' 'Coriolanus!' 'Citizens!' +'Peace, peace, peace!' 'Stay, hold, peace!' + +MENENIUS +What is about to be? I am out of breath; +Confusion's near; I cannot speak. You, tribunes +To the people! Coriolanus, patience! +Speak, good Sicinius. + +SICINIUS +Hear me, people; peace! + +Citizens +Let's hear our tribune: peace Speak, speak, speak. + +SICINIUS +You are at point to lose your liberties: +Marcius would have all from you; Marcius, +Whom late you have named for consul. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! +This is the way to kindle, not to quench. + +First Senator +To unbuild the city and to lay all flat. + +SICINIUS +What is the city but the people? + +Citizens +True, +The people are the city. + +BRUTUS +By the consent of all, we were establish'd +The people's magistrates. + +Citizens +You so remain. + +MENENIUS +And so are like to do. + +COMINIUS +That is the way to lay the city flat; +To bring the roof to the foundation, +And bury all, which yet distinctly ranges, +In heaps and piles of ruin. + +SICINIUS +This deserves death. + +BRUTUS +Or let us stand to our authority, +Or let us lose it. We do here pronounce, +Upon the part o' the people, in whose power +We were elected theirs, Marcius is worthy +Of present death. + +SICINIUS +Therefore lay hold of him; +Bear him to the rock Tarpeian, and from thence +Into destruction cast him. + +BRUTUS +AEdiles, seize him! + +Citizens +Yield, Marcius, yield! + +MENENIUS +Hear me one word; +Beseech you, tribunes, hear me but a word. + +AEdile +Peace, peace! + +MENENIUS +[To BRUTUS] Be that you seem, truly your +country's friend, +And temperately proceed to what you would +Thus violently redress. + +BRUTUS +Sir, those cold ways, +That seem like prudent helps, are very poisonous +Where the disease is violent. Lay hands upon him, +And bear him to the rock. + +CORIOLANUS +No, I'll die here. + +Drawing his sword + +There's some among you have beheld me fighting: +Come, try upon yourselves what you have seen me. + +MENENIUS +Down with that sword! Tribunes, withdraw awhile. + +BRUTUS +Lay hands upon him. + +COMINIUS +Help Marcius, help, +You that be noble; help him, young and old! + +Citizens +Down with him, down with him! + +In this mutiny, the Tribunes, the AEdiles, and the People, are beat in + +MENENIUS +Go, get you to your house; be gone, away! +All will be naught else. + +Second Senator +Get you gone. + +COMINIUS +Stand fast; +We have as many friends as enemies. + +MENENIUS +Sham it be put to that? + +First Senator +The gods forbid! +I prithee, noble friend, home to thy house; +Leave us to cure this cause. + +MENENIUS +For 'tis a sore upon us, +You cannot tent yourself: be gone, beseech you. + +COMINIUS +Come, sir, along with us. + +CORIOLANUS +I would they were barbarians--as they are, +Though in Rome litter'd--not Romans--as they are not, +Though calved i' the porch o' the Capitol-- + +MENENIUS +Be gone; +Put not your worthy rage into your tongue; +One time will owe another. + +CORIOLANUS +On fair ground +I could beat forty of them. + +COMINIUS +I could myself +Take up a brace o' the best of them; yea, the +two tribunes: +But now 'tis odds beyond arithmetic; +And manhood is call'd foolery, when it stands +Against a falling fabric. Will you hence, +Before the tag return? whose rage doth rend +Like interrupted waters and o'erbear +What they are used to bear. + +MENENIUS +Pray you, be gone: +I'll try whether my old wit be in request +With those that have but little: this must be patch'd +With cloth of any colour. + +COMINIUS +Nay, come away. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, and others + +A Patrician +This man has marr'd his fortune. + +MENENIUS +His nature is too noble for the world: +He would not flatter Neptune for his trident, +Or Jove for's power to thunder. His heart's his mouth: +What his breast forges, that his tongue must vent; +And, being angry, does forget that ever +He heard the name of death. + +A noise within + +Here's goodly work! + +Second Patrician +I would they were abed! + +MENENIUS +I would they were in Tiber! What the vengeance! +Could he not speak 'em fair? + +Re-enter BRUTUS and SICINIUS, with the rabble + +SICINIUS +Where is this viper +That would depopulate the city and +Be every man himself? + +MENENIUS +You worthy tribunes,-- + +SICINIUS +He shall be thrown down the Tarpeian rock +With rigorous hands: he hath resisted law, +And therefore law shall scorn him further trial +Than the severity of the public power +Which he so sets at nought. + +First Citizen +He shall well know +The noble tribunes are the people's mouths, +And we their hands. + +Citizens +He shall, sure on't. + +MENENIUS +Sir, sir,-- + +SICINIUS +Peace! + +MENENIUS +Do not cry havoc, where you should but hunt +With modest warrant. + +SICINIUS +Sir, how comes't that you +Have holp to make this rescue? + +MENENIUS +Hear me speak: +As I do know the consul's worthiness, +So can I name his faults,-- + +SICINIUS +Consul! what consul? + +MENENIUS +The consul Coriolanus. + +BRUTUS +He consul! + +Citizens +No, no, no, no, no. + +MENENIUS +If, by the tribunes' leave, and yours, good people, +I may be heard, I would crave a word or two; +The which shall turn you to no further harm +Than so much loss of time. + +SICINIUS +Speak briefly then; +For we are peremptory to dispatch +This viperous traitor: to eject him hence +Were but one danger, and to keep him here +Our certain death: therefore it is decreed +He dies to-night. + +MENENIUS +Now the good gods forbid +That our renowned Rome, whose gratitude +Towards her deserved children is enroll'd +In Jove's own book, like an unnatural dam +Should now eat up her own! + +SICINIUS +He's a disease that must be cut away. + +MENENIUS +O, he's a limb that has but a disease; +Mortal, to cut it off; to cure it, easy. +What has he done to Rome that's worthy death? +Killing our enemies, the blood he hath lost-- +Which, I dare vouch, is more than that he hath, +By many an ounce--he dropp'd it for his country; +And what is left, to lose it by his country, +Were to us all, that do't and suffer it, +A brand to the end o' the world. + +SICINIUS +This is clean kam. + +BRUTUS +Merely awry: when he did love his country, +It honour'd him. + +MENENIUS +The service of the foot +Being once gangrened, is not then respected +For what before it was. + +BRUTUS +We'll hear no more. +Pursue him to his house, and pluck him thence: +Lest his infection, being of catching nature, +Spread further. + +MENENIUS +One word more, one word. +This tiger-footed rage, when it shall find +The harm of unscann'd swiftness, will too late +Tie leaden pounds to's heels. Proceed by process; +Lest parties, as he is beloved, break out, +And sack great Rome with Romans. + +BRUTUS +If it were so,-- + +SICINIUS +What do ye talk? +Have we not had a taste of his obedience? +Our aediles smote? ourselves resisted? Come. + +MENENIUS +Consider this: he has been bred i' the wars +Since he could draw a sword, and is ill school'd +In bolted language; meal and bran together +He throws without distinction. Give me leave, +I'll go to him, and undertake to bring him +Where he shall answer, by a lawful form, +In peace, to his utmost peril. + +First Senator +Noble tribunes, +It is the humane way: the other course +Will prove too bloody, and the end of it +Unknown to the beginning. + +SICINIUS +Noble Menenius, +Be you then as the people's officer. +Masters, lay down your weapons. + +BRUTUS +Go not home. + +SICINIUS +Meet on the market-place. We'll attend you there: +Where, if you bring not Marcius, we'll proceed +In our first way. + +MENENIUS +I'll bring him to you. + +To the Senators + +Let me desire your company: he must come, +Or what is worst will follow. + +First Senator +Pray you, let's to him. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in CORIOLANUS'S house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS with Patricians +CORIOLANUS +Let them puff all about mine ears, present me +Death on the wheel or at wild horses' heels, +Or pile ten hills on the Tarpeian rock, +That the precipitation might down stretch +Below the beam of sight, yet will I still +Be thus to them. + +A Patrician +You do the nobler. + +CORIOLANUS +I muse my mother +Does not approve me further, who was wont +To call them woollen vassals, things created +To buy and sell with groats, to show bare heads +In congregations, to yawn, be still and wonder, +When one but of my ordinance stood up +To speak of peace or war. + +Enter VOLUMNIA + +I talk of you: +Why did you wish me milder? would you have me +False to my nature? Rather say I play +The man I am. + +VOLUMNIA +O, sir, sir, sir, +I would have had you put your power well on, +Before you had worn it out. + +CORIOLANUS +Let go. + +VOLUMNIA +You might have been enough the man you are, +With striving less to be so; lesser had been +The thwartings of your dispositions, if +You had not show'd them how ye were disposed +Ere they lack'd power to cross you. + +CORIOLANUS +Let them hang. + +A Patrician +Ay, and burn too. + +Enter MENENIUS and Senators + +MENENIUS +Come, come, you have been too rough, something +too rough; +You must return and mend it. + +First Senator +There's no remedy; +Unless, by not so doing, our good city +Cleave in the midst, and perish. + +VOLUMNIA +Pray, be counsell'd: +I have a heart as little apt as yours, +But yet a brain that leads my use of anger +To better vantage. + +MENENIUS +Well said, noble woman? +Before he should thus stoop to the herd, but that +The violent fit o' the time craves it as physic +For the whole state, I would put mine armour on, +Which I can scarcely bear. + +CORIOLANUS +What must I do? + +MENENIUS +Return to the tribunes. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, what then? what then? + +MENENIUS +Repent what you have spoke. + +CORIOLANUS +For them! I cannot do it to the gods; +Must I then do't to them? + +VOLUMNIA +You are too absolute; +Though therein you can never be too noble, +But when extremities speak. I have heard you say, +Honour and policy, like unsever'd friends, +I' the war do grow together: grant that, and tell me, +In peace what each of them by the other lose, +That they combine not there. + +CORIOLANUS +Tush, tush! + +MENENIUS +A good demand. + +VOLUMNIA +If it be honour in your wars to seem +The same you are not, which, for your best ends, +You adopt your policy, how is it less or worse, +That it shall hold companionship in peace +With honour, as in war, since that to both +It stands in like request? + +CORIOLANUS +Why force you this? + +VOLUMNIA +Because that now it lies you on to speak +To the people; not by your own instruction, +Nor by the matter which your heart prompts you, +But with such words that are but rooted in +Your tongue, though but bastards and syllables +Of no allowance to your bosom's truth. +Now, this no more dishonours you at all +Than to take in a town with gentle words, +Which else would put you to your fortune and +The hazard of much blood. +I would dissemble with my nature where +My fortunes and my friends at stake required +I should do so in honour: I am in this, +Your wife, your son, these senators, the nobles; +And you will rather show our general louts +How you can frown than spend a fawn upon 'em, +For the inheritance of their loves and safeguard +Of what that want might ruin. + +MENENIUS +Noble lady! +Come, go with us; speak fair: you may salve so, +Not what is dangerous present, but the loss +Of what is past. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, my son, +Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand; +And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them-- +Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business +Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant +More learned than the ears--waving thy head, +Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart, +Now humble as the ripest mulberry +That will not hold the handling: or say to them, +Thou art their soldier, and being bred in broils +Hast not the soft way which, thou dost confess, +Were fit for thee to use as they to claim, +In asking their good loves, but thou wilt frame +Thyself, forsooth, hereafter theirs, so far +As thou hast power and person. + +MENENIUS +This but done, +Even as she speaks, why, their hearts were yours; +For they have pardons, being ask'd, as free +As words to little purpose. + +VOLUMNIA +Prithee now, +Go, and be ruled: although I know thou hadst rather +Follow thine enemy in a fiery gulf +Than flatter him in a bower. Here is Cominius. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +I have been i' the market-place; and, sir,'tis fit +You make strong party, or defend yourself +By calmness or by absence: all's in anger. + +MENENIUS +Only fair speech. + +COMINIUS +I think 'twill serve, if he +Can thereto frame his spirit. + +VOLUMNIA +He must, and will +Prithee now, say you will, and go about it. + +CORIOLANUS +Must I go show them my unbarbed sconce? +Must I with base tongue give my noble heart +A lie that it must bear? Well, I will do't: +Yet, were there but this single plot to lose, +This mould of Marcius, they to dust should grind it +And throw't against the wind. To the market-place! +You have put me now to such a part which never +I shall discharge to the life. + +COMINIUS +Come, come, we'll prompt you. + +VOLUMNIA +I prithee now, sweet son, as thou hast said +My praises made thee first a soldier, so, +To have my praise for this, perform a part +Thou hast not done before. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, I must do't: +Away, my disposition, and possess me +Some harlot's spirit! my throat of war be turn'd, +Which quired with my drum, into a pipe +Small as an eunuch, or the virgin voice +That babies lulls asleep! the smiles of knaves +Tent in my cheeks, and schoolboys' tears take up +The glasses of my sight! a beggar's tongue +Make motion through my lips, and my arm'd knees, +Who bow'd but in my stirrup, bend like his +That hath received an alms! I will not do't, +Lest I surcease to honour mine own truth +And by my body's action teach my mind +A most inherent baseness. + +VOLUMNIA +At thy choice, then: +To beg of thee, it is my more dishonour +Than thou of them. Come all to ruin; let +Thy mother rather feel thy pride than fear +Thy dangerous stoutness, for I mock at death +With as big heart as thou. Do as thou list +Thy valiantness was mine, thou suck'dst it from me, +But owe thy pride thyself. + +CORIOLANUS +Pray, be content: +Mother, I am going to the market-place; +Chide me no more. I'll mountebank their loves, +Cog their hearts from them, and come home beloved +Of all the trades in Rome. Look, I am going: +Commend me to my wife. I'll return consul; +Or never trust to what my tongue can do +I' the way of flattery further. + +VOLUMNIA +Do your will. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +Away! the tribunes do attend you: arm yourself +To answer mildly; for they are prepared +With accusations, as I hear, more strong +Than are upon you yet. + +CORIOLANUS +The word is 'mildly.' Pray you, let us go: +Let them accuse me by invention, I +Will answer in mine honour. + +MENENIUS +Ay, but mildly. + +CORIOLANUS +Well, mildly be it then. Mildly! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. The Forum. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +BRUTUS +In this point charge him home, that he affects +Tyrannical power: if he evade us there, +Enforce him with his envy to the people, +And that the spoil got on the Antiates +Was ne'er distributed. + +Enter an AEdile + +What, will he come? + +AEdile +He's coming. + +BRUTUS +How accompanied? + +AEdile +With old Menenius, and those senators +That always favour'd him. + +SICINIUS +Have you a catalogue +Of all the voices that we have procured +Set down by the poll? + +AEdile +I have; 'tis ready. + +SICINIUS +Have you collected them by tribes? + +AEdile +I have. + +SICINIUS +Assemble presently the people hither; +And when they bear me say 'It shall be so +I' the right and strength o' the commons,' be it either +For death, for fine, or banishment, then let them +If I say fine, cry 'Fine;' if death, cry 'Death.' +Insisting on the old prerogative +And power i' the truth o' the cause. + +AEdile +I shall inform them. + +BRUTUS +And when such time they have begun to cry, +Let them not cease, but with a din confused +Enforce the present execution +Of what we chance to sentence. + +AEdile +Very well. + +SICINIUS +Make them be strong and ready for this hint, +When we shall hap to give 't them. + +BRUTUS +Go about it. + +Exit AEdile + +Put him to choler straight: he hath been used +Ever to conquer, and to have his worth +Of contradiction: being once chafed, he cannot +Be rein'd again to temperance; then he speaks +What's in his heart; and that is there which looks +With us to break his neck. + +SICINIUS +Well, here he comes. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, MENENIUS, and COMINIUS, with Senators and Patricians + +MENENIUS +Calmly, I do beseech you. + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, as an ostler, that for the poorest piece +Will bear the knave by the volume. The honour'd gods +Keep Rome in safety, and the chairs of justice +Supplied with worthy men! plant love among 's! +Throng our large temples with the shows of peace, +And not our streets with war! + +First Senator +Amen, amen. + +MENENIUS +A noble wish. + +Re-enter AEdile, with Citizens + +SICINIUS +Draw near, ye people. + +AEdile +List to your tribunes. Audience: peace, I say! + +CORIOLANUS +First, hear me speak. + +Both Tribunes +Well, say. Peace, ho! + +CORIOLANUS +Shall I be charged no further than this present? +Must all determine here? + +SICINIUS +I do demand, +If you submit you to the people's voices, +Allow their officers and are content +To suffer lawful censure for such faults +As shall be proved upon you? + +CORIOLANUS +I am content. + +MENENIUS +Lo, citizens, he says he is content: +The warlike service he has done, consider; think +Upon the wounds his body bears, which show +Like graves i' the holy churchyard. + +CORIOLANUS +Scratches with briers, +Scars to move laughter only. + +MENENIUS +Consider further, +That when he speaks not like a citizen, +You find him like a soldier: do not take +His rougher accents for malicious sounds, +But, as I say, such as become a soldier, +Rather than envy you. + +COMINIUS +Well, well, no more. + +CORIOLANUS +What is the matter +That being pass'd for consul with full voice, +I am so dishonour'd that the very hour +You take it off again? + +SICINIUS +Answer to us. + +CORIOLANUS +Say, then: 'tis true, I ought so. + +SICINIUS +We charge you, that you have contrived to take +From Rome all season'd office and to wind +Yourself into a power tyrannical; +For which you are a traitor to the people. + +CORIOLANUS +How! traitor! + +MENENIUS +Nay, temperately; your promise. + +CORIOLANUS +The fires i' the lowest hell fold-in the people! +Call me their traitor! Thou injurious tribune! +Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths, +In thy hand clutch'd as many millions, in +Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say +'Thou liest' unto thee with a voice as free +As I do pray the gods. + +SICINIUS +Mark you this, people? + +Citizens +To the rock, to the rock with him! + +SICINIUS +Peace! +We need not put new matter to his charge: +What you have seen him do and heard him speak, +Beating your officers, cursing yourselves, +Opposing laws with strokes and here defying +Those whose great power must try him; even this, +So criminal and in such capital kind, +Deserves the extremest death. + +BRUTUS +But since he hath +Served well for Rome,-- + +CORIOLANUS +What do you prate of service? + +BRUTUS +I talk of that, that know it. + +CORIOLANUS +You? + +MENENIUS +Is this the promise that you made your mother? + +COMINIUS +Know, I pray you,-- + +CORIOLANUS +I know no further: +Let them pronounce the steep Tarpeian death, +Vagabond exile, raying, pent to linger +But with a grain a day, I would not buy +Their mercy at the price of one fair word; +Nor cheque my courage for what they can give, +To have't with saying 'Good morrow.' + +SICINIUS +For that he has, +As much as in him lies, from time to time +Envied against the people, seeking means +To pluck away their power, as now at last +Given hostile strokes, and that not in the presence +Of dreaded justice, but on the ministers +That do distribute it; in the name o' the people +And in the power of us the tribunes, we, +Even from this instant, banish him our city, +In peril of precipitation +From off the rock Tarpeian never more +To enter our Rome gates: i' the people's name, +I say it shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so; let him away: +He's banish'd, and it shall be so. + +COMINIUS +Hear me, my masters, and my common friends,-- + +SICINIUS +He's sentenced; no more hearing. + +COMINIUS +Let me speak: +I have been consul, and can show for Rome +Her enemies' marks upon me. I do love +My country's good with a respect more tender, +More holy and profound, than mine own life, +My dear wife's estimate, her womb's increase, +And treasure of my loins; then if I would +Speak that,-- + +SICINIUS +We know your drift: speak what? + +BRUTUS +There's no more to be said, but he is banish'd, +As enemy to the people and his country: +It shall be so. + +Citizens +It shall be so, it shall be so. + +CORIOLANUS +You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate +As reek o' the rotten fens, whose loves I prize +As the dead carcasses of unburied men +That do corrupt my air, I banish you; +And here remain with your uncertainty! +Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts! +Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes, +Fan you into despair! Have the power still +To banish your defenders; till at length +Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels, +Making not reservation of yourselves, +Still your own foes, deliver you as most +Abated captives to some nation +That won you without blows! Despising, +For you, the city, thus I turn my back: +There is a world elsewhere. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS, COMINIUS, MENENIUS, Senators, and Patricians + +AEdile +The people's enemy is gone, is gone! + +Citizens +Our enemy is banish'd! he is gone! Hoo! hoo! + +Shouting, and throwing up their caps + +SICINIUS +Go, see him out at gates, and follow him, +As he hath followed you, with all despite; +Give him deserved vexation. Let a guard +Attend us through the city. + +Citizens +Come, come; let's see him out at gates; come. +The gods preserve our noble tribunes! Come. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. Rome. Before a gate of the city. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, MENENIUS, COMINIUS, with the young Nobility of Rome +CORIOLANUS +Come, leave your tears: a brief farewell: the beast +With many heads butts me away. Nay, mother, +Where is your ancient courage? you were used +To say extremity was the trier of spirits; +That common chances common men could bear; +That when the sea was calm all boats alike +Show'd mastership in floating; fortune's blows, +When most struck home, being gentle wounded, craves +A noble cunning: you were used to load me +With precepts that would make invincible +The heart that conn'd them. + +VIRGILIA +O heavens! O heavens! + +CORIOLANUS +Nay! prithee, woman,-- + +VOLUMNIA +Now the red pestilence strike all trades in Rome, +And occupations perish! + +CORIOLANUS +What, what, what! +I shall be loved when I am lack'd. Nay, mother. +Resume that spirit, when you were wont to say, +If you had been the wife of Hercules, +Six of his labours you'ld have done, and saved +Your husband so much sweat. Cominius, +Droop not; adieu. Farewell, my wife, my mother: +I'll do well yet. Thou old and true Menenius, +Thy tears are salter than a younger man's, +And venomous to thine eyes. My sometime general, +I have seen thee stem, and thou hast oft beheld +Heart-hardening spectacles; tell these sad women +'Tis fond to wail inevitable strokes, +As 'tis to laugh at 'em. My mother, you wot well +My hazards still have been your solace: and +Believe't not lightly--though I go alone, +Like to a lonely dragon, that his fen +Makes fear'd and talk'd of more than seen--your son +Will or exceed the common or be caught +With cautelous baits and practise. + +VOLUMNIA +My first son. +Whither wilt thou go? Take good Cominius +With thee awhile: determine on some course, +More than a wild exposture to each chance +That starts i' the way before thee. + +CORIOLANUS +O the gods! + +COMINIUS +I'll follow thee a month, devise with thee +Where thou shalt rest, that thou mayst hear of us +And we of thee: so if the time thrust forth +A cause for thy repeal, we shall not send +O'er the vast world to seek a single man, +And lose advantage, which doth ever cool +I' the absence of the needer. + +CORIOLANUS +Fare ye well: +Thou hast years upon thee; and thou art too full +Of the wars' surfeits, to go rove with one +That's yet unbruised: bring me but out at gate. +Come, my sweet wife, my dearest mother, and +My friends of noble touch, when I am forth, +Bid me farewell, and smile. I pray you, come. +While I remain above the ground, you shall +Hear from me still, and never of me aught +But what is like me formerly. + +MENENIUS +That's worthily +As any ear can hear. Come, let's not weep. +If I could shake off but one seven years +From these old arms and legs, by the good gods, +I'ld with thee every foot. + +CORIOLANUS +Give me thy hand: Come. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and an AEdile +SICINIUS +Bid them all home; he's gone, and we'll no further. +The nobility are vex'd, whom we see have sided +In his behalf. + +BRUTUS +Now we have shown our power, +Let us seem humbler after it is done +Than when it was a-doing. + +SICINIUS +Bid them home: +Say their great enemy is gone, and they +Stand in their ancient strength. + +BRUTUS +Dismiss them home. + +Exit AEdile + +Here comes his mother. + +SICINIUS +Let's not meet her. + +BRUTUS +Why? + +SICINIUS +They say she's mad. + +BRUTUS +They have ta'en note of us: keep on your way. + +Enter VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, and MENENIUS + +VOLUMNIA +O, ye're well met: the hoarded plague o' the gods +Requite your love! + +MENENIUS +Peace, peace; be not so loud. + +VOLUMNIA +If that I could for weeping, you should hear,-- +Nay, and you shall hear some. + +To BRUTUS + +Will you be gone? + +VIRGILIA +[To SICINIUS] You shall stay too: I would I had the power +To say so to my husband. + +SICINIUS +Are you mankind? + +VOLUMNIA +Ay, fool; is that a shame? Note but this fool. +Was not a man my father? Hadst thou foxship +To banish him that struck more blows for Rome +Than thou hast spoken words? + +SICINIUS +O blessed heavens! + +VOLUMNIA +More noble blows than ever thou wise words; +And for Rome's good. I'll tell thee what; yet go: +Nay, but thou shalt stay too: I would my son +Were in Arabia, and thy tribe before him, +His good sword in his hand. + +SICINIUS +What then? + +VIRGILIA +What then! +He'ld make an end of thy posterity. + +VOLUMNIA +Bastards and all. +Good man, the wounds that he does bear for Rome! + +MENENIUS +Come, come, peace. + +SICINIUS +I would he had continued to his country +As he began, and not unknit himself +The noble knot he made. + +BRUTUS +I would he had. + +VOLUMNIA +'I would he had'! 'Twas you incensed the rabble: +Cats, that can judge as fitly of his worth +As I can of those mysteries which heaven +Will not have earth to know. + +BRUTUS +Pray, let us go. + +VOLUMNIA +Now, pray, sir, get you gone: +You have done a brave deed. Ere you go, hear this:-- +As far as doth the Capitol exceed +The meanest house in Rome, so far my son-- +This lady's husband here, this, do you see-- +Whom you have banish'd, does exceed you all. + +BRUTUS +Well, well, we'll leave you. + +SICINIUS +Why stay we to be baited +With one that wants her wits? + +VOLUMNIA +Take my prayers with you. + +Exeunt Tribunes + +I would the gods had nothing else to do +But to confirm my curses! Could I meet 'em +But once a-day, it would unclog my heart +Of what lies heavy to't. + +MENENIUS +You have told them home; +And, by my troth, you have cause. You'll sup with me? + +VOLUMNIA +Anger's my meat; I sup upon myself, +And so shall starve with feeding. Come, let's go: +Leave this faint puling and lament as I do, +In anger, Juno-like. Come, come, come. + +MENENIUS +Fie, fie, fie! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A highway between Rome and Antium. + +Enter a Roman and a Volsce, meeting +Roman +I know you well, sir, and you know +me: your name, I think, is Adrian. + +Volsce +It is so, sir: truly, I have forgot you. + +Roman +I am a Roman; and my services are, +as you are, against 'em: know you me yet? + +Volsce +Nicanor? no. + +Roman +The same, sir. + +Volsce +You had more beard when I last saw you; but your +favour is well approved by your tongue. What's the +news in Rome? I have a note from the Volscian state, +to find you out there: you have well saved me a +day's journey. + +Roman +There hath been in Rome strange insurrections; the +people against the senators, patricians, and nobles. + +Volsce +Hath been! is it ended, then? Our state thinks not +so: they are in a most warlike preparation, and +hope to come upon them in the heat of their division. + +Roman +The main blaze of it is past, but a small thing +would make it flame again: for the nobles receive +so to heart the banishment of that worthy +Coriolanus, that they are in a ripe aptness to take +all power from the people and to pluck from them +their tribunes for ever. This lies glowing, I can +tell you, and is almost mature for the violent +breaking out. + +Volsce +Coriolanus banished! + +Roman +Banished, sir. + +Volsce +You will be welcome with this intelligence, Nicanor. + +Roman +The day serves well for them now. I have heard it +said, the fittest time to corrupt a man's wife is +when she's fallen out with her husband. Your noble +Tullus Aufidius will appear well in these wars, his +great opposer, Coriolanus, being now in no request +of his country. + +Volsce +He cannot choose. I am most fortunate, thus +accidentally to encounter you: you have ended my +business, and I will merrily accompany you home. + +Roman +I shall, between this and supper, tell you most +strange things from Rome; all tending to the good of +their adversaries. Have you an army ready, say you? + +Volsce +A most royal one; the centurions and their charges, +distinctly billeted, already in the entertainment, +and to be on foot at an hour's warning. + +Roman +I am joyful to hear of their readiness, and am the +man, I think, that shall set them in present action. +So, sir, heartily well met, and most glad of your company. + +Volsce +You take my part from me, sir; I have the most cause +to be glad of yours. + +Roman +Well, let us go together. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Antium. Before Aufidius's house. + +Enter CORIOLANUS in mean apparel, disguised and muffled +CORIOLANUS +A goodly city is this Antium. City, +'Tis I that made thy widows: many an heir +Of these fair edifices 'fore my wars +Have I heard groan and drop: then know me not, +Lest that thy wives with spits and boys with stones +In puny battle slay me. + +Enter a Citizen + +Save you, sir. + +Citizen +And you. + +CORIOLANUS +Direct me, if it be your will, +Where great Aufidius lies: is he in Antium? + +Citizen +He is, and feasts the nobles of the state +At his house this night. + +CORIOLANUS +Which is his house, beseech you? + +Citizen +This, here before you. + +CORIOLANUS +Thank you, sir: farewell. + +Exit Citizen + +O world, thy slippery turns! Friends now fast sworn, +Whose double bosoms seem to wear one heart, +Whose house, whose bed, whose meal, and exercise, +Are still together, who twin, as 'twere, in love +Unseparable, shall within this hour, +On a dissension of a doit, break out +To bitterest enmity: so, fellest foes, +Whose passions and whose plots have broke their sleep, +To take the one the other, by some chance, +Some trick not worth an egg, shall grow dear friends +And interjoin their issues. So with me: +My birth-place hate I, and my love's upon +This enemy town. I'll enter: if he slay me, +He does fair justice; if he give me way, +I'll do his country service. + +Exit + +SCENE V. The same. A hall in Aufidius's house. + +Music within. Enter a Servingman +First Servingman +Wine, wine, wine! What service +is here! I think our fellows are asleep. + +Exit + +Enter a second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Where's Cotus? my master calls +for him. Cotus! + +Exit + +Enter CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +A goodly house: the feast smells well; but I +Appear not like a guest. + +Re-enter the first Servingman + +First Servingman +What would you have, friend? whence are you? +Here's no place for you: pray, go to the door. + +Exit + +CORIOLANUS +I have deserved no better entertainment, +In being Coriolanus. + +Re-enter second Servingman + +Second Servingman +Whence are you, sir? Has the porter his eyes in his +head; that he gives entrance to such companions? +Pray, get you out. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +Second Servingman +Away! get you away. + +CORIOLANUS +Now thou'rt troublesome. + +Second Servingman +Are you so brave? I'll have you talked with anon. + +Enter a third Servingman. The first meets him + +Third Servingman +What fellow's this? + +First Servingman +A strange one as ever I looked on: I cannot get him +out of the house: prithee, call my master to him. + +Retires + +Third Servingman +What have you to do here, fellow? Pray you, avoid +the house. + +CORIOLANUS +Let me but stand; I will not hurt your hearth. + +Third Servingman +What are you? + +CORIOLANUS +A gentleman. + +Third Servingman +A marvellous poor one. + +CORIOLANUS +True, so I am. + +Third Servingman +Pray you, poor gentleman, take up some other +station; here's no place for you; pray you, avoid: come. + +CORIOLANUS +Follow your function, go, and batten on cold bits. + +Pushes him away + +Third Servingman +What, you will not? Prithee, tell my master what a +strange guest he has here. + +Second Servingman +And I shall. + +Exit + +Third Servingman +Where dwellest thou? + +CORIOLANUS +Under the canopy. + +Third Servingman +Under the canopy! + +CORIOLANUS +Ay. + +Third Servingman +Where's that? + +CORIOLANUS +I' the city of kites and crows. + +Third Servingman +I' the city of kites and crows! What an ass it is! +Then thou dwellest with daws too? + +CORIOLANUS +No, I serve not thy master. + +Third Servingman +How, sir! do you meddle with my master? + +CORIOLANUS +Ay; 'tis an honester service than to meddle with thy +mistress. Thou pratest, and pratest; serve with thy +trencher, hence! + +Beats him away. Exit third Servingman + +Enter AUFIDIUS with the second Servingman + +AUFIDIUS +Where is this fellow? + +Second Servingman +Here, sir: I'ld have beaten him like a dog, but for +disturbing the lords within. + +Retires + +AUFIDIUS +Whence comest thou? what wouldst thou? thy name? +Why speak'st not? speak, man: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +If, Tullus, + +Unmuffling + +Not yet thou knowest me, and, seeing me, dost not +Think me for the man I am, necessity +Commands me name myself. + +AUFIDIUS +What is thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +A name unmusical to the Volscians' ears, +And harsh in sound to thine. + +AUFIDIUS +Say, what's thy name? +Thou hast a grim appearance, and thy face +Bears a command in't; though thy tackle's torn. +Thou show'st a noble vessel: what's thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +Prepare thy brow to frown: know'st +thou me yet? + +AUFIDIUS +I know thee not: thy name? + +CORIOLANUS +My name is Caius Marcius, who hath done +To thee particularly and to all the Volsces +Great hurt and mischief; thereto witness may +My surname, Coriolanus: the painful service, +The extreme dangers and the drops of blood +Shed for my thankless country are requited +But with that surname; a good memory, +And witness of the malice and displeasure +Which thou shouldst bear me: only that name remains; +The cruelty and envy of the people, +Permitted by our dastard nobles, who +Have all forsook me, hath devour'd the rest; +And suffer'd me by the voice of slaves to be +Whoop'd out of Rome. Now this extremity +Hath brought me to thy hearth; not out of hope-- +Mistake me not--to save my life, for if +I had fear'd death, of all the men i' the world +I would have 'voided thee, but in mere spite, +To be full quit of those my banishers, +Stand I before thee here. Then if thou hast +A heart of wreak in thee, that wilt revenge +Thine own particular wrongs and stop those maims +Of shame seen through thy country, speed +thee straight, +And make my misery serve thy turn: so use it +That my revengeful services may prove +As benefits to thee, for I will fight +Against my canker'd country with the spleen +Of all the under fiends. But if so be +Thou darest not this and that to prove more fortunes +Thou'rt tired, then, in a word, I also am +Longer to live most weary, and present +My throat to thee and to thy ancient malice; +Which not to cut would show thee but a fool, +Since I have ever follow'd thee with hate, +Drawn tuns of blood out of thy country's breast, +And cannot live but to thy shame, unless +It be to do thee service. + +AUFIDIUS +O Marcius, Marcius! +Each word thou hast spoke hath weeded from my heart +A root of ancient envy. If Jupiter +Should from yond cloud speak divine things, +And say 'Tis true,' I'ld not believe them more +Than thee, all noble Marcius. Let me twine +Mine arms about that body, where against +My grained ash an hundred times hath broke +And scarr'd the moon with splinters: here I clip +The anvil of my sword, and do contest +As hotly and as nobly with thy love +As ever in ambitious strength I did +Contend against thy valour. Know thou first, +I loved the maid I married; never man +Sigh'd truer breath; but that I see thee here, +Thou noble thing! more dances my rapt heart +Than when I first my wedded mistress saw +Bestride my threshold. Why, thou Mars! I tell thee, +We have a power on foot; and I had purpose +Once more to hew thy target from thy brawn, +Or lose mine arm fort: thou hast beat me out +Twelve several times, and I have nightly since +Dreamt of encounters 'twixt thyself and me; +We have been down together in my sleep, +Unbuckling helms, fisting each other's throat, +And waked half dead with nothing. Worthy Marcius, +Had we no quarrel else to Rome, but that +Thou art thence banish'd, we would muster all +From twelve to seventy, and pouring war +Into the bowels of ungrateful Rome, +Like a bold flood o'er-bear. O, come, go in, +And take our friendly senators by the hands; +Who now are here, taking their leaves of me, +Who am prepared against your territories, +Though not for Rome itself. + +CORIOLANUS +You bless me, gods! + +AUFIDIUS +Therefore, most absolute sir, if thou wilt have +The leading of thine own revenges, take +The one half of my commission; and set down-- +As best thou art experienced, since thou know'st +Thy country's strength and weakness,--thine own ways; +Whether to knock against the gates of Rome, +Or rudely visit them in parts remote, +To fright them, ere destroy. But come in: +Let me commend thee first to those that shall +Say yea to thy desires. A thousand welcomes! +And more a friend than e'er an enemy; +Yet, Marcius, that was much. Your hand: most welcome! + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS. The two Servingmen come forward + +First Servingman +Here's a strange alteration! + +Second Servingman +By my hand, I had thought to have strucken him with +a cudgel; and yet my mind gave me his clothes made a +false report of him. + +First Servingman +What an arm he has! he turned me about with his +finger and his thumb, as one would set up a top. + +Second Servingman +Nay, I knew by his face that there was something in +him: he had, sir, a kind of face, methought,--I +cannot tell how to term it. + +First Servingman +He had so; looking as it were--would I were hanged, +but I thought there was more in him than I could think. + +Second Servingman +So did I, I'll be sworn: he is simply the rarest +man i' the world. + +First Servingman +I think he is: but a greater soldier than he you wot on. + +Second Servingman +Who, my master? + +First Servingman +Nay, it's no matter for that. + +Second Servingman +Worth six on him. + +First Servingman +Nay, not so neither: but I take him to be the +greater soldier. + +Second Servingman +Faith, look you, one cannot tell how to say that: +for the defence of a town, our general is excellent. + +First Servingman +Ay, and for an assault too. + +Re-enter third Servingman + +Third Servingman +O slaves, I can tell you news,-- news, you rascals! + +First Servingman Second Servingman +What, what, what? let's partake. + +Third Servingman +I would not be a Roman, of all nations; I had as +lieve be a condemned man. + +First Servingman Second Servingman +Wherefore? wherefore? + +Third Servingman +Why, here's he that was wont to thwack our general, +Caius Marcius. + +First Servingman +Why do you say 'thwack our general '? + +Third Servingman +I do not say 'thwack our general;' but he was always +good enough for him. + +Second Servingman +Come, we are fellows and friends: he was ever too +hard for him; I have heard him say so himself. + +First Servingman +He was too hard for him directly, to say the troth +on't: before Corioli he scotched him and notched +him like a carbon ado. + +Second Servingman +An he had been cannibally given, he might have +broiled and eaten him too. + +First Servingman +But, more of thy news? + +Third Servingman +Why, he is so made on here within, as if he were son +and heir to Mars; set at upper end o' the table; no +question asked him by any of the senators, but they +stand bald before him: our general himself makes a +mistress of him: sanctifies himself with's hand and +turns up the white o' the eye to his discourse. But +the bottom of the news is that our general is cut i' +the middle and but one half of what he was +yesterday; for the other has half, by the entreaty +and grant of the whole table. He'll go, he says, +and sowl the porter of Rome gates by the ears: he +will mow all down before him, and leave his passage polled. + +Second Servingman +And he's as like to do't as any man I can imagine. + +Third Servingman +Do't! he will do't; for, look you, sir, he has as +many friends as enemies; which friends, sir, as it +were, durst not, look you, sir, show themselves, as +we term it, his friends whilst he's in directitude. + +First Servingman +Directitude! what's that? + +Third Servingman +But when they shall see, sir, his crest up again, +and the man in blood, they will out of their +burrows, like conies after rain, and revel all with +him. + +First Servingman +But when goes this forward? + +Third Servingman +To-morrow; to-day; presently; you shall have the +drum struck up this afternoon: 'tis, as it were, a +parcel of their feast, and to be executed ere they +wipe their lips. + +Second Servingman +Why, then we shall have a stirring world again. +This peace is nothing, but to rust iron, increase +tailors, and breed ballad-makers. + +First Servingman +Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as +day does night; it's spritely, waking, audible, and +full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy; +mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more +bastard children than war's a destroyer of men. + +Second Servingman +'Tis so: and as war, in some sort, may be said to +be a ravisher, so it cannot be denied but peace is a +great maker of cuckolds. + +First Servingman +Ay, and it makes men hate one another. + +Third Servingman +Reason; because they then less need one another. +The wars for my money. I hope to see Romans as cheap +as Volscians. They are rising, they are rising. + +All +In, in, in, in! + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Rome. A public place. + +Enter SICINIUS and BRUTUS +SICINIUS +We hear not of him, neither need we fear him; +His remedies are tame i' the present peace +And quietness of the people, which before +Were in wild hurry. Here do we make his friends +Blush that the world goes well, who rather had, +Though they themselves did suffer by't, behold +Dissentious numbers pestering streets than see +Our tradesmen with in their shops and going +About their functions friendly. + +BRUTUS +We stood to't in good time. + +Enter MENENIUS + +Is this Menenius? + +SICINIUS +'Tis he,'tis he: O, he is grown most kind of late. + +Both Tribunes +Hail sir! + +MENENIUS +Hail to you both! + +SICINIUS +Your Coriolanus +Is not much miss'd, but with his friends: +The commonwealth doth stand, and so would do, +Were he more angry at it. + +MENENIUS +All's well; and might have been much better, if +He could have temporized. + +SICINIUS +Where is he, hear you? + +MENENIUS +Nay, I hear nothing: his mother and his wife +Hear nothing from him. + +Enter three or four Citizens + +Citizens +The gods preserve you both! + +SICINIUS +God-den, our neighbours. + +BRUTUS +God-den to you all, god-den to you all. + +First Citizen +Ourselves, our wives, and children, on our knees, +Are bound to pray for you both. + +SICINIUS +Live, and thrive! + +BRUTUS +Farewell, kind neighbours: we wish'd Coriolanus +Had loved you as we did. + +Citizens +Now the gods keep you! + +Both Tribunes +Farewell, farewell. + +Exeunt Citizens + +SICINIUS +This is a happier and more comely time +Than when these fellows ran about the streets, +Crying confusion. + +BRUTUS +Caius Marcius was +A worthy officer i' the war; but insolent, +O'ercome with pride, ambitious past all thinking, +Self-loving,-- + +SICINIUS +And affecting one sole throne, +Without assistance. + +MENENIUS +I think not so. + +SICINIUS +We should by this, to all our lamentation, +If he had gone forth consul, found it so. + +BRUTUS +The gods have well prevented it, and Rome +Sits safe and still without him. + +Enter an AEdile + +AEdile +Worthy tribunes, +There is a slave, whom we have put in prison, +Reports, the Volsces with two several powers +Are enter'd in the Roman territories, +And with the deepest malice of the war +Destroy what lies before 'em. + +MENENIUS +'Tis Aufidius, +Who, hearing of our Marcius' banishment, +Thrusts forth his horns again into the world; +Which were inshell'd when Marcius stood for Rome, +And durst not once peep out. + +SICINIUS +Come, what talk you +Of Marcius? + +BRUTUS +Go see this rumourer whipp'd. It cannot be +The Volsces dare break with us. + +MENENIUS +Cannot be! +We have record that very well it can, +And three examples of the like have been +Within my age. But reason with the fellow, +Before you punish him, where he heard this, +Lest you shall chance to whip your information +And beat the messenger who bids beware +Of what is to be dreaded. + +SICINIUS +Tell not me: +I know this cannot be. + +BRUTUS +Not possible. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The nobles in great earnestness are going +All to the senate-house: some news is come +That turns their countenances. + +SICINIUS +'Tis this slave;-- +Go whip him, 'fore the people's eyes:--his raising; +Nothing but his report. + +Messenger +Yes, worthy sir, +The slave's report is seconded; and more, +More fearful, is deliver'd. + +SICINIUS +What more fearful? + +Messenger +It is spoke freely out of many mouths-- +How probable I do not know--that Marcius, +Join'd with Aufidius, leads a power 'gainst Rome, +And vows revenge as spacious as between +The young'st and oldest thing. + +SICINIUS +This is most likely! + +BRUTUS +Raised only, that the weaker sort may wish +Good Marcius home again. + +SICINIUS +The very trick on't. + +MENENIUS +This is unlikely: +He and Aufidius can no more atone +Than violentest contrariety. + +Enter a second Messenger + +Second Messenger +You are sent for to the senate: +A fearful army, led by Caius Marcius +Associated with Aufidius, rages +Upon our territories; and have already +O'erborne their way, consumed with fire, and took +What lay before them. + +Enter COMINIUS + +COMINIUS +O, you have made good work! + +MENENIUS +What news? what news? + +COMINIUS +You have holp to ravish your own daughters and +To melt the city leads upon your pates, +To see your wives dishonour'd to your noses,-- + +MENENIUS +What's the news? what's the news? + +COMINIUS +Your temples burned in their cement, and +Your franchises, whereon you stood, confined +Into an auger's bore. + +MENENIUS +Pray now, your news? +You have made fair work, I fear me.--Pray, your news?-- +If Marcius should be join'd with Volscians,-- + +COMINIUS +If! +He is their god: he leads them like a thing +Made by some other deity than nature, +That shapes man better; and they follow him, +Against us brats, with no less confidence +Than boys pursuing summer butterflies, +Or butchers killing flies. + +MENENIUS +You have made good work, +You and your apron-men; you that stood so up much +on the voice of occupation and +The breath of garlic-eaters! + +COMINIUS +He will shake +Your Rome about your ears. + +MENENIUS +As Hercules +Did shake down mellow fruit. +You have made fair work! + +BRUTUS +But is this true, sir? + +COMINIUS +Ay; and you'll look pale +Before you find it other. All the regions +Do smilingly revolt; and who resist +Are mock'd for valiant ignorance, +And perish constant fools. Who is't can blame him? +Your enemies and his find something in him. + +MENENIUS +We are all undone, unless +The noble man have mercy. + +COMINIUS +Who shall ask it? +The tribunes cannot do't for shame; the people +Deserve such pity of him as the wolf +Does of the shepherds: for his best friends, if they +Should say 'Be good to Rome,' they charged him even +As those should do that had deserved his hate, +And therein show'd like enemies. + +MENENIUS +'Tis true: +If he were putting to my house the brand +That should consume it, I have not the face +To say 'Beseech you, cease.' You have made fair hands, +You and your crafts! you have crafted fair! + +COMINIUS +You have brought +A trembling upon Rome, such as was never +So incapable of help. + +Both Tribunes +Say not we brought it. + +MENENIUS +How! Was it we? we loved him but, like beasts +And cowardly nobles, gave way unto your clusters, +Who did hoot him out o' the city. + +COMINIUS +But I fear +They'll roar him in again. Tullus Aufidius, +The second name of men, obeys his points +As if he were his officer: desperation +Is all the policy, strength and defence, +That Rome can make against them. + +Enter a troop of Citizens + +MENENIUS +Here come the clusters. +And is Aufidius with him? You are they +That made the air unwholesome, when you cast +Your stinking greasy caps in hooting at +Coriolanus' exile. Now he's coming; +And not a hair upon a soldier's head +Which will not prove a whip: as many coxcombs +As you threw caps up will he tumble down, +And pay you for your voices. 'Tis no matter; +if he could burn us all into one coal, +We have deserved it. + +Citizens +Faith, we hear fearful news. + +First Citizen +For mine own part, +When I said, banish him, I said 'twas pity. + +Second Citizen +And so did I. + +Third Citizen +And so did I; and, to say the truth, so did very +many of us: that we did, we did for the best; and +though we willingly consented to his banishment, yet +it was against our will. + +COMINIUS +Ye re goodly things, you voices! + +MENENIUS +You have made +Good work, you and your cry! Shall's to the Capitol? + +COMINIUS +O, ay, what else? + +Exeunt COMINIUS and MENENIUS + +SICINIUS +Go, masters, get you home; be not dismay'd: +These are a side that would be glad to have +This true which they so seem to fear. Go home, +And show no sign of fear. + +First Citizen +The gods be good to us! Come, masters, let's home. +I ever said we were i' the wrong when we banished +him. + +Second Citizen +So did we all. But, come, let's home. + +Exeunt Citizens + +BRUTUS +I do not like this news. + +SICINIUS +Nor I. + +BRUTUS +Let's to the Capitol. Would half my wealth +Would buy this for a lie! + +SICINIUS +Pray, let us go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. A camp, at a small distance from Rome. + +Enter AUFIDIUS and his Lieutenant +AUFIDIUS +Do they still fly to the Roman? + +Lieutenant +I do not know what witchcraft's in him, but +Your soldiers use him as the grace 'fore meat, +Their talk at table, and their thanks at end; +And you are darken'd in this action, sir, +Even by your own. + +AUFIDIUS +I cannot help it now, +Unless, by using means, I lame the foot +Of our design. He bears himself more proudlier, +Even to my person, than I thought he would +When first I did embrace him: yet his nature +In that's no changeling; and I must excuse +What cannot be amended. + +Lieutenant +Yet I wish, sir,-- +I mean for your particular,--you had not +Join'd in commission with him; but either +Had borne the action of yourself, or else +To him had left it solely. + +AUFIDIUS +I understand thee well; and be thou sure, +when he shall come to his account, he knows not +What I can urge against him. Although it seems, +And so he thinks, and is no less apparent +To the vulgar eye, that he bears all things fairly. +And shows good husbandry for the Volscian state, +Fights dragon-like, and does achieve as soon +As draw his sword; yet he hath left undone +That which shall break his neck or hazard mine, +Whene'er we come to our account. + +Lieutenant +Sir, I beseech you, think you he'll carry Rome? + +AUFIDIUS +All places yield to him ere he sits down; +And the nobility of Rome are his: +The senators and patricians love him too: +The tribunes are no soldiers; and their people +Will be as rash in the repeal, as hasty +To expel him thence. I think he'll be to Rome +As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it +By sovereignty of nature. First he was +A noble servant to them; but he could not +Carry his honours even: whether 'twas pride, +Which out of daily fortune ever taints +The happy man; whether defect of judgment, +To fail in the disposing of those chances +Which he was lord of; or whether nature, +Not to be other than one thing, not moving +From the casque to the cushion, but commanding peace +Even with the same austerity and garb +As he controll'd the war; but one of these-- +As he hath spices of them all, not all, +For I dare so far free him--made him fear'd, +So hated, and so banish'd: but he has a merit, +To choke it in the utterance. So our virtues +Lie in the interpretation of the time: +And power, unto itself most commendable, +Hath not a tomb so evident as a chair +To extol what it hath done. +One fire drives out one fire; one nail, one nail; +Rights by rights falter, strengths by strengths do fail. +Come, let's away. When, Caius, Rome is thine, +Thou art poor'st of all; then shortly art thou mine. + +Exeunt + + +ACT V +SCENE I. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS, COMINIUS, SICINIUS, BRUTUS, and others +MENENIUS +No, I'll not go: you hear what he hath said +Which was sometime his general; who loved him +In a most dear particular. He call'd me father: +But what o' that? Go, you that banish'd him; +A mile before his tent fall down, and knee +The way into his mercy: nay, if he coy'd +To hear Cominius speak, I'll keep at home. + +COMINIUS +He would not seem to know me. + +MENENIUS +Do you hear? + +COMINIUS +Yet one time he did call me by my name: +I urged our old acquaintance, and the drops +That we have bled together. Coriolanus +He would not answer to: forbad all names; +He was a kind of nothing, titleless, +Till he had forged himself a name o' the fire +Of burning Rome. + +MENENIUS +Why, so: you have made good work! +A pair of tribunes that have rack'd for Rome, +To make coals cheap,--a noble memory! + +COMINIUS +I minded him how royal 'twas to pardon +When it was less expected: he replied, +It was a bare petition of a state +To one whom they had punish'd. + +MENENIUS +Very well: +Could he say less? + +COMINIUS +I offer'd to awaken his regard +For's private friends: his answer to me was, +He could not stay to pick them in a pile +Of noisome musty chaff: he said 'twas folly, +For one poor grain or two, to leave unburnt, +And still to nose the offence. + +MENENIUS +For one poor grain or two! +I am one of those; his mother, wife, his child, +And this brave fellow too, we are the grains: +You are the musty chaff; and you are smelt +Above the moon: we must be burnt for you. + +SICINIUS +Nay, pray, be patient: if you refuse your aid +In this so never-needed help, yet do not +Upbraid's with our distress. But, sure, if you +Would be your country's pleader, your good tongue, +More than the instant army we can make, +Might stop our countryman. + +MENENIUS +No, I'll not meddle. + +SICINIUS +Pray you, go to him. + +MENENIUS +What should I do? + +BRUTUS +Only make trial what your love can do +For Rome, towards Marcius. + +MENENIUS +Well, and say that Marcius +Return me, as Cominius is return'd, +Unheard; what then? +But as a discontented friend, grief-shot +With his unkindness? say't be so? + +SICINIUS +Yet your good will +must have that thanks from Rome, after the measure +As you intended well. + +MENENIUS +I'll undertake 't: +I think he'll hear me. Yet, to bite his lip +And hum at good Cominius, much unhearts me. +He was not taken well; he had not dined: +The veins unfill'd, our blood is cold, and then +We pout upon the morning, are unapt +To give or to forgive; but when we have stuff'd +These and these conveyances of our blood +With wine and feeding, we have suppler souls +Than in our priest-like fasts: therefore I'll watch him +Till he be dieted to my request, +And then I'll set upon him. + +BRUTUS +You know the very road into his kindness, +And cannot lose your way. + +MENENIUS +Good faith, I'll prove him, +Speed how it will. I shall ere long have knowledge +Of my success. + +Exit + +COMINIUS +He'll never hear him. + +SICINIUS +Not? + +COMINIUS +I tell you, he does sit in gold, his eye +Red as 'twould burn Rome; and his injury +The gaoler to his pity. I kneel'd before him; +'Twas very faintly he said 'Rise;' dismiss'd me +Thus, with his speechless hand: what he would do, +He sent in writing after me; what he would not, +Bound with an oath to yield to his conditions: +So that all hope is vain. +Unless his noble mother, and his wife; +Who, as I hear, mean to solicit him +For mercy to his country. Therefore, let's hence, +And with our fair entreaties haste them on. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Entrance of the Volscian camp before Rome. +Two Sentinels on guard. + +Enter to them, MENENIUS + +First Senator +Stay: whence are you? + +Second Senator +Stand, and go back. + +MENENIUS +You guard like men; 'tis well: but, by your leave, +I am an officer of state, and come +To speak with Coriolanus. + +First Senator +From whence? + +MENENIUS +From Rome. + +First Senator +You may not pass, you must return: our general +Will no more hear from thence. + +Second Senator +You'll see your Rome embraced with fire before +You'll speak with Coriolanus. + +MENENIUS +Good my friends, +If you have heard your general talk of Rome, +And of his friends there, it is lots to blanks, +My name hath touch'd your ears it is Menenius. + +First Senator +Be it so; go back: the virtue of your name +Is not here passable. + +MENENIUS +I tell thee, fellow, +The general is my lover: I have been +The book of his good acts, whence men have read +His name unparallel'd, haply amplified; +For I have ever verified my friends, +Of whom he's chief, with all the size that verity +Would without lapsing suffer: nay, sometimes, +Like to a bowl upon a subtle ground, +I have tumbled past the throw; and in his praise +Have almost stamp'd the leasing: therefore, fellow, +I must have leave to pass. + +First Senator +Faith, sir, if you had told as many lies in his +behalf as you have uttered words in your own, you +should not pass here; no, though it were as virtuous +to lie as to live chastely. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Prithee, fellow, remember my name is Menenius, +always factionary on the party of your general. + +Second Senator +Howsoever you have been his liar, as you say you +have, I am one that, telling true under him, must +say, you cannot pass. Therefore, go back. + +MENENIUS +Has he dined, canst thou tell? for I would not +speak with him till after dinner. + +First Senator +You are a Roman, are you? + +MENENIUS +I am, as thy general is. + +First Senator +Then you should hate Rome, as he does. Can you, +when you have pushed out your gates the very +defender of them, and, in a violent popular +ignorance, given your enemy your shield, think to +front his revenges with the easy groans of old +women, the virginal palms of your daughters, or with +the palsied intercession of such a decayed dotant as +you seem to be? Can you think to blow out the +intended fire your city is ready to flame in, with +such weak breath as this? No, you are deceived; +therefore, back to Rome, and prepare for your +execution: you are condemned, our general has sworn +you out of reprieve and pardon. + +MENENIUS +Sirrah, if thy captain knew I were here, he would +use me with estimation. + +Second Senator +Come, my captain knows you not. + +MENENIUS +I mean, thy general. + +First Senator +My general cares not for you. Back, I say, go; lest +I let forth your half-pint of blood; back,--that's +the utmost of your having: back. + +MENENIUS +Nay, but, fellow, fellow,-- + +Enter CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +CORIOLANUS +What's the matter? + +MENENIUS +Now, you companion, I'll say an errand for you: +You shall know now that I am in estimation; you shall +perceive that a Jack guardant cannot office me from +my son Coriolanus: guess, but by my entertainment +with him, if thou standest not i' the state of +hanging, or of some death more long in +spectatorship, and crueller in suffering; behold now +presently, and swoon for what's to come upon thee. + +To CORIOLANUS + +The glorious gods sit in hourly synod about thy +particular prosperity, and love thee no worse than +thy old father Menenius does! O my son, my son! +thou art preparing fire for us; look thee, here's +water to quench it. I was hardly moved to come to +thee; but being assured none but myself could move +thee, I have been blown out of your gates with +sighs; and conjure thee to pardon Rome, and thy +petitionary countrymen. The good gods assuage thy +wrath, and turn the dregs of it upon this varlet +here,--this, who, like a block, hath denied my +access to thee. + +CORIOLANUS +Away! + +MENENIUS +How! away! + +CORIOLANUS +Wife, mother, child, I know not. My affairs +Are servanted to others: though I owe +My revenge properly, my remission lies +In Volscian breasts. That we have been familiar, +Ingrate forgetfulness shall poison, rather +Than pity note how much. Therefore, be gone. +Mine ears against your suits are stronger than +Your gates against my force. Yet, for I loved thee, +Take this along; I writ it for thy sake + +Gives a letter + +And would have rent it. Another word, Menenius, +I will not hear thee speak. This man, Aufidius, +Was my beloved in Rome: yet thou behold'st! + +AUFIDIUS +You keep a constant temper. + +Exeunt CORIOLANUS and AUFIDIUS + +First Senator +Now, sir, is your name Menenius? + +Second Senator +'Tis a spell, you see, of much power: you know the +way home again. + +First Senator +Do you hear how we are shent for keeping your +greatness back? + +Second Senator +What cause, do you think, I have to swoon? + +MENENIUS +I neither care for the world nor your general: for +such things as you, I can scarce think there's any, +ye're so slight. He that hath a will to die by +himself fears it not from another: let your general +do his worst. For you, be that you are, long; and +your misery increase with your age! I say to you, +as I was said to, Away! + +Exit + +First Senator +A noble fellow, I warrant him. + +Second Senator +The worthy fellow is our general: he's the rock, the +oak not to be wind-shaken. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The tent of Coriolanus. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, AUFIDIUS, and others +CORIOLANUS +We will before the walls of Rome tomorrow +Set down our host. My partner in this action, +You must report to the Volscian lords, how plainly +I have borne this business. + +AUFIDIUS +Only their ends +You have respected; stopp'd your ears against +The general suit of Rome; never admitted +A private whisper, no, not with such friends +That thought them sure of you. + +CORIOLANUS +This last old man, +Whom with a crack'd heart I have sent to Rome, +Loved me above the measure of a father; +Nay, godded me, indeed. Their latest refuge +Was to send him; for whose old love I have, +Though I show'd sourly to him, once more offer'd +The first conditions, which they did refuse +And cannot now accept; to grace him only +That thought he could do more, a very little +I have yielded to: fresh embassies and suits, +Nor from the state nor private friends, hereafter +Will I lend ear to. Ha! what shout is this? + +Shout within + +Shall I be tempted to infringe my vow +In the same time 'tis made? I will not. + +Enter in mourning habits, VIRGILIA, VOLUMNIA, leading young MARCIUS, VALERIA, and Attendants + +My wife comes foremost; then the honour'd mould +Wherein this trunk was framed, and in her hand +The grandchild to her blood. But, out, affection! +All bond and privilege of nature, break! +Let it be virtuous to be obstinate. +What is that curt'sy worth? or those doves' eyes, +Which can make gods forsworn? I melt, and am not +Of stronger earth than others. My mother bows; +As if Olympus to a molehill should +In supplication nod: and my young boy +Hath an aspect of intercession, which +Great nature cries 'Deny not.' let the Volsces +Plough Rome and harrow Italy: I'll never +Be such a gosling to obey instinct, but stand, +As if a man were author of himself +And knew no other kin. + +VIRGILIA +My lord and husband! + +CORIOLANUS +These eyes are not the same I wore in Rome. + +VIRGILIA +The sorrow that delivers us thus changed +Makes you think so. + +CORIOLANUS +Like a dull actor now, +I have forgot my part, and I am out, +Even to a full disgrace. Best of my flesh, +Forgive my tyranny; but do not say +For that 'Forgive our Romans.' O, a kiss +Long as my exile, sweet as my revenge! +Now, by the jealous queen of heaven, that kiss +I carried from thee, dear; and my true lip +Hath virgin'd it e'er since. You gods! I prate, +And the most noble mother of the world +Leave unsaluted: sink, my knee, i' the earth; + +Kneels + +Of thy deep duty more impression show +Than that of common sons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, stand up blest! +Whilst, with no softer cushion than the flint, +I kneel before thee; and unproperly +Show duty, as mistaken all this while +Between the child and parent. + +Kneels + +CORIOLANUS +What is this? +Your knees to me? to your corrected son? +Then let the pebbles on the hungry beach +Fillip the stars; then let the mutinous winds +Strike the proud cedars 'gainst the fiery sun; +Murdering impossibility, to make +What cannot be, slight work. + +VOLUMNIA +Thou art my warrior; +I holp to frame thee. Do you know this lady? + +CORIOLANUS +The noble sister of Publicola, +The moon of Rome, chaste as the icicle +That's curdied by the frost from purest snow +And hangs on Dian's temple: dear Valeria! + +VOLUMNIA +This is a poor epitome of yours, +Which by the interpretation of full time +May show like all yourself. + +CORIOLANUS +The god of soldiers, +With the consent of supreme Jove, inform +Thy thoughts with nobleness; that thou mayst prove +To shame unvulnerable, and stick i' the wars +Like a great sea-mark, standing every flaw, +And saving those that eye thee! + +VOLUMNIA +Your knee, sirrah. + +CORIOLANUS +That's my brave boy! + +VOLUMNIA +Even he, your wife, this lady, and myself, +Are suitors to you. + +CORIOLANUS +I beseech you, peace: +Or, if you'ld ask, remember this before: +The thing I have forsworn to grant may never +Be held by you denials. Do not bid me +Dismiss my soldiers, or capitulate +Again with Rome's mechanics: tell me not +Wherein I seem unnatural: desire not +To ally my rages and revenges with +Your colder reasons. + +VOLUMNIA +O, no more, no more! +You have said you will not grant us any thing; +For we have nothing else to ask, but that +Which you deny already: yet we will ask; +That, if you fail in our request, the blame +May hang upon your hardness: therefore hear us. + +CORIOLANUS +Aufidius, and you Volsces, mark; for we'll +Hear nought from Rome in private. Your request? + +VOLUMNIA +Should we be silent and not speak, our raiment +And state of bodies would bewray what life +We have led since thy exile. Think with thyself +How more unfortunate than all living women +Are we come hither: since that thy sight, +which should +Make our eyes flow with joy, hearts dance +with comforts, +Constrains them weep and shake with fear and sorrow; +Making the mother, wife and child to see +The son, the husband and the father tearing +His country's bowels out. And to poor we +Thine enmity's most capital: thou barr'st us +Our prayers to the gods, which is a comfort +That all but we enjoy; for how can we, +Alas, how can we for our country pray. +Whereto we are bound, together with thy victory, +Whereto we are bound? alack, or we must lose +The country, our dear nurse, or else thy person, +Our comfort in the country. We must find +An evident calamity, though we had +Our wish, which side should win: for either thou +Must, as a foreign recreant, be led +With manacles thorough our streets, or else +triumphantly tread on thy country's ruin, +And bear the palm for having bravely shed +Thy wife and children's blood. For myself, son, +I purpose not to wait on fortune till +These wars determine: if I cannot persuade thee +Rather to show a noble grace to both parts +Than seek the end of one, thou shalt no sooner +March to assault thy country than to tread-- +Trust to't, thou shalt not--on thy mother's womb, +That brought thee to this world. + +VIRGILIA +Ay, and mine, +That brought you forth this boy, to keep your name +Living to time. + +Young MARCIUS +A' shall not tread on me; +I'll run away till I am bigger, but then I'll fight. + +CORIOLANUS +Not of a woman's tenderness to be, +Requires nor child nor woman's face to see. +I have sat too long. + +Rising + +VOLUMNIA +Nay, go not from us thus. +If it were so that our request did tend +To save the Romans, thereby to destroy +The Volsces whom you serve, you might condemn us, +As poisonous of your honour: no; our suit +Is that you reconcile them: while the Volsces +May say 'This mercy we have show'd;' the Romans, +'This we received;' and each in either side +Give the all-hail to thee and cry 'Be blest +For making up this peace!' Thou know'st, great son, +The end of war's uncertain, but this certain, +That, if thou conquer Rome, the benefit +Which thou shalt thereby reap is such a name, +Whose repetition will be dogg'd with curses; +Whose chronicle thus writ: 'The man was noble, +But with his last attempt he wiped it out; +Destroy'd his country, and his name remains +To the ensuing age abhorr'd.' Speak to me, son: +Thou hast affected the fine strains of honour, +To imitate the graces of the gods; +To tear with thunder the wide cheeks o' the air, +And yet to charge thy sulphur with a bolt +That should but rive an oak. Why dost not speak? +Think'st thou it honourable for a noble man +Still to remember wrongs? Daughter, speak you: +He cares not for your weeping. Speak thou, boy: +Perhaps thy childishness will move him more +Than can our reasons. There's no man in the world +More bound to 's mother; yet here he lets me prate +Like one i' the stocks. Thou hast never in thy life +Show'd thy dear mother any courtesy, +When she, poor hen, fond of no second brood, +Has cluck'd thee to the wars and safely home, +Loaden with honour. Say my request's unjust, +And spurn me back: but if it be not so, +Thou art not honest; and the gods will plague thee, +That thou restrain'st from me the duty which +To a mother's part belongs. He turns away: +Down, ladies; let us shame him with our knees. +To his surname Coriolanus 'longs more pride +Than pity to our prayers. Down: an end; +This is the last: so we will home to Rome, +And die among our neighbours. Nay, behold 's: +This boy, that cannot tell what he would have +But kneels and holds up bands for fellowship, +Does reason our petition with more strength +Than thou hast to deny 't. Come, let us go: +This fellow had a Volscian to his mother; +His wife is in Corioli and his child +Like him by chance. Yet give us our dispatch: +I am hush'd until our city be a-fire, +And then I'll speak a little. + +He holds her by the hand, silent + +CORIOLANUS +O mother, mother! +What have you done? Behold, the heavens do ope, +The gods look down, and this unnatural scene +They laugh at. O my mother, mother! O! +You have won a happy victory to Rome; +But, for your son,--believe it, O, believe it, +Most dangerously you have with him prevail'd, +If not most mortal to him. But, let it come. +Aufidius, though I cannot make true wars, +I'll frame convenient peace. Now, good Aufidius, +Were you in my stead, would you have heard +A mother less? or granted less, Aufidius? + +AUFIDIUS +I was moved withal. + +CORIOLANUS +I dare be sworn you were: +And, sir, it is no little thing to make +Mine eyes to sweat compassion. But, good sir, +What peace you'll make, advise me: for my part, +I'll not to Rome, I'll back with you; and pray you, +Stand to me in this cause. O mother! wife! + +AUFIDIUS +[Aside] I am glad thou hast set thy mercy and +thy honour +At difference in thee: out of that I'll work +Myself a former fortune. + +The Ladies make signs to CORIOLANUS + +CORIOLANUS +Ay, by and by; + +To VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, & c + +But we will drink together; and you shall bear +A better witness back than words, which we, +On like conditions, will have counter-seal'd. +Come, enter with us. Ladies, you deserve +To have a temple built you: all the swords +In Italy, and her confederate arms, +Could not have made this peace. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Rome. A public place. + +Enter MENENIUS and SICINIUS +MENENIUS +See you yond coign o' the Capitol, yond +corner-stone? + +SICINIUS +Why, what of that? + +MENENIUS +If it be possible for you to displace it with your +little finger, there is some hope the ladies of +Rome, especially his mother, may prevail with him. +But I say there is no hope in't: our throats are +sentenced and stay upon execution. + +SICINIUS +Is't possible that so short a time can alter the +condition of a man! + +MENENIUS +There is differency between a grub and a butterfly; +yet your butterfly was a grub. This Marcius is grown +from man to dragon: he has wings; he's more than a +creeping thing. + +SICINIUS +He loved his mother dearly. + +MENENIUS +So did he me: and he no more remembers his mother +now than an eight-year-old horse. The tartness +of his face sours ripe grapes: when he walks, he +moves like an engine, and the ground shrinks before +his treading: he is able to pierce a corslet with +his eye; talks like a knell, and his hum is a +battery. He sits in his state, as a thing made for +Alexander. What he bids be done is finished with +his bidding. He wants nothing of a god but eternity +and a heaven to throne in. + +SICINIUS +Yes, mercy, if you report him truly. + +MENENIUS +I paint him in the character. Mark what mercy his +mother shall bring from him: there is no more mercy +in him than there is milk in a male tiger; that +shall our poor city find: and all this is long of +you. + +SICINIUS +The gods be good unto us! + +MENENIUS +No, in such a case the gods will not be good unto +us. When we banished him, we respected not them; +and, he returning to break our necks, they respect not us. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Sir, if you'ld save your life, fly to your house: +The plebeians have got your fellow-tribune +And hale him up and down, all swearing, if +The Roman ladies bring not comfort home, +They'll give him death by inches. + +Enter a second Messenger + +SICINIUS +What's the news? + +Second Messenger +Good news, good news; the ladies have prevail'd, +The Volscians are dislodged, and Marcius gone: +A merrier day did never yet greet Rome, +No, not the expulsion of the Tarquins. + +SICINIUS +Friend, +Art thou certain this is true? is it most certain? + +Second Messenger +As certain as I know the sun is fire: +Where have you lurk'd, that you make doubt of it? +Ne'er through an arch so hurried the blown tide, +As the recomforted through the gates. Why, hark you! + +Trumpets; hautboys; drums beat; all together + +The trumpets, sackbuts, psalteries and fifes, +Tabours and cymbals and the shouting Romans, +Make the sun dance. Hark you! + +A shout within + +MENENIUS +This is good news: +I will go meet the ladies. This Volumnia +Is worth of consuls, senators, patricians, +A city full; of tribunes, such as you, +A sea and land full. You have pray'd well to-day: +This morning for ten thousand of your throats +I'd not have given a doit. Hark, how they joy! + +Music still, with shouts + +SICINIUS +First, the gods bless you for your tidings; next, +Accept my thankfulness. + +Second Messenger +Sir, we have all +Great cause to give great thanks. + +SICINIUS +They are near the city? + +Second Messenger +Almost at point to enter. + +SICINIUS +We will meet them, +And help the joy. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. A street near the gate. + +Enter two Senators with VOLUMNIA, VIRGILIA, VALERIA, & c. passing over the stage, followed by Patricians and others +First Senator +Behold our patroness, the life of Rome! +Call all your tribes together, praise the gods, +And make triumphant fires; strew flowers before them: +Unshout the noise that banish'd Marcius, +Repeal him with the welcome of his mother; +Cry 'Welcome, ladies, welcome!' + +All +Welcome, ladies, Welcome! + +A flourish with drums and trumpets. Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Antium. A public place. + +Enter TULLUS AUFIDIUS, with Attendants +AUFIDIUS +Go tell the lords o' the city I am here: +Deliver them this paper: having read it, +Bid them repair to the market place; where I, +Even in theirs and in the commons' ears, +Will vouch the truth of it. Him I accuse +The city ports by this hath enter'd and +Intends to appear before the people, hoping +To purge herself with words: dispatch. + +Exeunt Attendants + +Enter three or four Conspirators of AUFIDIUS' faction + +Most welcome! + +First Conspirator +How is it with our general? + +AUFIDIUS +Even so +As with a man by his own alms empoison'd, +And with his charity slain. + +Second Conspirator +Most noble sir, +If you do hold the same intent wherein +You wish'd us parties, we'll deliver you +Of your great danger. + +AUFIDIUS +Sir, I cannot tell: +We must proceed as we do find the people. + +Third Conspirator +The people will remain uncertain whilst +'Twixt you there's difference; but the fall of either +Makes the survivor heir of all. + +AUFIDIUS +I know it; +And my pretext to strike at him admits +A good construction. I raised him, and I pawn'd +Mine honour for his truth: who being so heighten'd, +He water'd his new plants with dews of flattery, +Seducing so my friends; and, to this end, +He bow'd his nature, never known before +But to be rough, unswayable and free. + +Third Conspirator +Sir, his stoutness +When he did stand for consul, which he lost +By lack of stooping,-- + +AUFIDIUS +That I would have spoke of: +Being banish'd for't, he came unto my hearth; +Presented to my knife his throat: I took him; +Made him joint-servant with me; gave him way +In all his own desires; nay, let him choose +Out of my files, his projects to accomplish, +My best and freshest men; served his designments +In mine own person; holp to reap the fame +Which he did end all his; and took some pride +To do myself this wrong: till, at the last, +I seem'd his follower, not partner, and +He waged me with his countenance, as if +I had been mercenary. + +First Conspirator +So he did, my lord: +The army marvell'd at it, and, in the last, +When he had carried Rome and that we look'd +For no less spoil than glory,-- + +AUFIDIUS +There was it: +For which my sinews shall be stretch'd upon him. +At a few drops of women's rheum, which are +As cheap as lies, he sold the blood and labour +Of our great action: therefore shall he die, +And I'll renew me in his fall. But, hark! + +Drums and trumpets sound, with great shouts of the People + +First Conspirator +Your native town you enter'd like a post, +And had no welcomes home: but he returns, +Splitting the air with noise. + +Second Conspirator +And patient fools, +Whose children he hath slain, their base throats tear +With giving him glory. + +Third Conspirator +Therefore, at your vantage, +Ere he express himself, or move the people +With what he would say, let him feel your sword, +Which we will second. When he lies along, +After your way his tale pronounced shall bury +His reasons with his body. + +AUFIDIUS +Say no more: +Here come the lords. + +Enter the Lords of the city + +All The Lords +You are most welcome home. + +AUFIDIUS +I have not deserved it. +But, worthy lords, have you with heed perused +What I have written to you? + +Lords +We have. + +First Lord +And grieve to hear't. +What faults he made before the last, I think +Might have found easy fines: but there to end +Where he was to begin and give away +The benefit of our levies, answering us +With our own charge, making a treaty where +There was a yielding,--this admits no excuse. + +AUFIDIUS +He approaches: you shall hear him. + +Enter CORIOLANUS, marching with drum and colours; commoners being with him + +CORIOLANUS +Hail, lords! I am return'd your soldier, +No more infected with my country's love +Than when I parted hence, but still subsisting +Under your great command. You are to know +That prosperously I have attempted and +With bloody passage led your wars even to +The gates of Rome. Our spoils we have brought home +Do more than counterpoise a full third part +The charges of the action. We have made peace +With no less honour to the Antiates +Than shame to the Romans: and we here deliver, +Subscribed by the consuls and patricians, +Together with the seal o' the senate, what +We have compounded on. + +AUFIDIUS +Read it not, noble lords; +But tell the traitor, in the high'st degree +He hath abused your powers. + +CORIOLANUS +Traitor! how now! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, traitor, Marcius! + +CORIOLANUS +Marcius! + +AUFIDIUS +Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think +I'll grace thee with that robbery, thy stol'n name +Coriolanus in Corioli? +You lords and heads o' the state, perfidiously +He has betray'd your business, and given up, +For certain drops of salt, your city Rome, +I say 'your city,' to his wife and mother; +Breaking his oath and resolution like +A twist of rotten silk, never admitting +Counsel o' the war, but at his nurse's tears +He whined and roar'd away your victory, +That pages blush'd at him and men of heart +Look'd wondering each at other. + +CORIOLANUS +Hear'st thou, Mars? + +AUFIDIUS +Name not the god, thou boy of tears! + +CORIOLANUS +Ha! + +AUFIDIUS +No more. + +CORIOLANUS +Measureless liar, thou hast made my heart +Too great for what contains it. Boy! O slave! +Pardon me, lords, 'tis the first time that ever +I was forced to scold. Your judgments, my grave lords, +Must give this cur the lie: and his own notion-- +Who wears my stripes impress'd upon him; that +Must bear my beating to his grave--shall join +To thrust the lie unto him. + +First Lord +Peace, both, and hear me speak. + +CORIOLANUS +Cut me to pieces, Volsces; men and lads, +Stain all your edges on me. Boy! false hound! +If you have writ your annals true, 'tis there, +That, like an eagle in a dove-cote, I +Flutter'd your Volscians in Corioli: +Alone I did it. Boy! + +AUFIDIUS +Why, noble lords, +Will you be put in mind of his blind fortune, +Which was your shame, by this unholy braggart, +'Fore your own eyes and ears? + +All Conspirators +Let him die for't. + +All The People +'Tear him to pieces.' 'Do it presently.' 'He kill'd +my son.' 'My daughter.' 'He killed my cousin +Marcus.' 'He killed my father.' + +Second Lord +Peace, ho! no outrage: peace! +The man is noble and his fame folds-in +This orb o' the earth. His last offences to us +Shall have judicious hearing. Stand, Aufidius, +And trouble not the peace. + +CORIOLANUS +O that I had him, +With six Aufidiuses, or more, his tribe, +To use my lawful sword! + +AUFIDIUS +Insolent villain! + +All Conspirators +Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill him! + +The Conspirators draw, and kill CORIOLANUS: AUFIDIUS stands on his body + +Lords +Hold, hold, hold, hold! + +AUFIDIUS +My noble masters, hear me speak. + +First Lord +O Tullus,-- + +Second Lord +Thou hast done a deed whereat valour will weep. + +Third Lord +Tread not upon him. Masters all, be quiet; +Put up your swords. + +AUFIDIUS +My lords, when you shall know--as in this rage, +Provoked by him, you cannot--the great danger +Which this man's life did owe you, you'll rejoice +That he is thus cut off. Please it your honours +To call me to your senate, I'll deliver +Myself your loyal servant, or endure +Your heaviest censure. + +First Lord +Bear from hence his body; +And mourn you for him: let him be regarded +As the most noble corse that ever herald +Did follow to his urn. + +Second Lord +His own impatience +Takes from Aufidius a great part of blame. +Let's make the best of it. + +AUFIDIUS +My rage is gone; +And I am struck with sorrow. Take him up. +Help, three o' the chiefest soldiers; I'll be one. +Beat thou the drum, that it speak mournfully: +Trail your steel pikes. Though in this city he +Hath widow'd and unchilded many a one, +Which to this hour bewail the injury, +Yet he shall have a noble memory. Assist. + +Exeunt, bearing the body of CORIOLANUS. A dead march sounded +The Life and Death of Julies Caesar +Shakespeare homepage | Julius Caeser | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Rome. A street. + +Enter FLAVIUS, MARULLUS, and certain Commoners +FLAVIUS +Hence! home, you idle creatures get you home: +Is this a holiday? what! know you not, +Being mechanical, you ought not walk +Upon a labouring day without the sign +Of your profession? Speak, what trade art thou? + +First Commoner +Why, sir, a carpenter. + +MARULLUS +Where is thy leather apron and thy rule? +What dost thou with thy best apparel on? +You, sir, what trade are you? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, +as you would say, a cobbler. + +MARULLUS +But what trade art thou? answer me directly. + +Second Commoner +A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe +conscience; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. + +MARULLUS +What trade, thou knave? thou naughty knave, what trade? + +Second Commoner +Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me: yet, +if you be out, sir, I can mend you. + +MARULLUS +What meanest thou by that? mend me, thou saucy fellow! + +Second Commoner +Why, sir, cobble you. + +FLAVIUS +Thou art a cobbler, art thou? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl: I +meddle with no tradesman's matters, nor women's +matters, but with awl. I am, indeed, sir, a surgeon +to old shoes; when they are in great danger, I +recover them. As proper men as ever trod upon +neat's leather have gone upon my handiwork. + +FLAVIUS +But wherefore art not in thy shop today? +Why dost thou lead these men about the streets? + +Second Commoner +Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself +into more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, +to see Caesar and to rejoice in his triumph. + +MARULLUS +Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he home? +What tributaries follow him to Rome, +To grace in captive bonds his chariot-wheels? +You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things! +O you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, +Knew you not Pompey? Many a time and oft +Have you climb'd up to walls and battlements, +To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, +Your infants in your arms, and there have sat +The livelong day, with patient expectation, +To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome: +And when you saw his chariot but appear, +Have you not made an universal shout, +That Tiber trembled underneath her banks, +To hear the replication of your sounds +Made in her concave shores? +And do you now put on your best attire? +And do you now cull out a holiday? +And do you now strew flowers in his way +That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood? Be gone! +Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, +Pray to the gods to intermit the plague +That needs must light on this ingratitude. + +FLAVIUS +Go, go, good countrymen, and, for this fault, +Assemble all the poor men of your sort; +Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears +Into the channel, till the lowest stream +Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. + +Exeunt all the Commoners + +See whether their basest metal be not moved; +They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. +Go you down that way towards the Capitol; + +This way will I +disrobe the images, +If you do find them deck'd with ceremonies. + +MARULLUS +May we do so? +You know it is the feast of Lupercal. + +FLAVIUS +It is no matter; let no images +Be hung with Caesar's trophies. I'll about, +And drive away the vulgar from the streets: +So do you too, where you perceive them thick. +These growing feathers pluck'd from Caesar's wing +Will make him fly an ordinary pitch, +Who else would soar above the view of men +And keep us all in servile fearfulness. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Flourish. Enter CAESAR; ANTONY, for the course; CALPURNIA, PORTIA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CICERO, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, and CASCA; a great crowd following, among them a Soothsayer +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CASCA +Peace, ho! Caesar speaks. + +CAESAR +Calpurnia! + +CALPURNIA +Here, my lord. + +CAESAR +Stand you directly in Antonius' way, +When he doth run his course. Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar, my lord? + +CAESAR +Forget not, in your speed, Antonius, +To touch Calpurnia; for our elders say, +The barren, touched in this holy chase, +Shake off their sterile curse. + +ANTONY +I shall remember: +When Caesar says 'do this,' it is perform'd. + +CAESAR +Set on; and leave no ceremony out. + +Flourish + +Soothsayer +Caesar! + +CAESAR +Ha! who calls? + +CASCA +Bid every noise be still: peace yet again! + +CAESAR +Who is it in the press that calls on me? +I hear a tongue, shriller than all the music, +Cry 'Caesar!' Speak; Caesar is turn'd to hear. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +What man is that? + +BRUTUS +A soothsayer bids you beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +Set him before me; let me see his face. + +CASSIUS +Fellow, come from the throng; look upon Caesar. + +CAESAR +What say'st thou to me now? speak once again. + +Soothsayer +Beware the ides of March. + +CAESAR +He is a dreamer; let us leave him: pass. + +Sennet. Exeunt all except BRUTUS and CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Will you go see the order of the course? + +BRUTUS +Not I. + +CASSIUS +I pray you, do. + +BRUTUS +I am not gamesome: I do lack some part +Of that quick spirit that is in Antony. +Let me not hinder, Cassius, your desires; +I'll leave you. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, I do observe you now of late: +I have not from your eyes that gentleness +And show of love as I was wont to have: +You bear too stubborn and too strange a hand +Over your friend that loves you. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, +Be not deceived: if I have veil'd my look, +I turn the trouble of my countenance +Merely upon myself. Vexed I am +Of late with passions of some difference, +Conceptions only proper to myself, +Which give some soil perhaps to my behaviors; +But let not therefore my good friends be grieved-- +Among which number, Cassius, be you one-- +Nor construe any further my neglect, +Than that poor Brutus, with himself at war, +Forgets the shows of love to other men. + +CASSIUS +Then, Brutus, I have much mistook your passion; +By means whereof this breast of mine hath buried +Thoughts of great value, worthy cogitations. +Tell me, good Brutus, can you see your face? + +BRUTUS +No, Cassius; for the eye sees not itself, +But by reflection, by some other things. + +CASSIUS +'Tis just: +And it is very much lamented, Brutus, +That you have no such mirrors as will turn +Your hidden worthiness into your eye, +That you might see your shadow. I have heard, +Where many of the best respect in Rome, +Except immortal Caesar, speaking of Brutus +And groaning underneath this age's yoke, +Have wish'd that noble Brutus had his eyes. + +BRUTUS +Into what dangers would you lead me, Cassius, +That you would have me seek into myself +For that which is not in me? + +CASSIUS +Therefore, good Brutus, be prepared to hear: +And since you know you cannot see yourself +So well as by reflection, I, your glass, +Will modestly discover to yourself +That of yourself which you yet know not of. +And be not jealous on me, gentle Brutus: +Were I a common laugher, or did use +To stale with ordinary oaths my love +To every new protester; if you know +That I do fawn on men and hug them hard +And after scandal them, or if you know +That I profess myself in banqueting +To all the rout, then hold me dangerous. + +Flourish, and shout + +BRUTUS +What means this shouting? I do fear, the people +Choose Caesar for their king. + +CASSIUS +Ay, do you fear it? +Then must I think you would not have it so. + +BRUTUS +I would not, Cassius; yet I love him well. +But wherefore do you hold me here so long? +What is it that you would impart to me? +If it be aught toward the general good, +Set honour in one eye and death i' the other, +And I will look on both indifferently, +For let the gods so speed me as I love +The name of honour more than I fear death. + +CASSIUS +I know that virtue to be in you, Brutus, +As well as I do know your outward favour. +Well, honour is the subject of my story. +I cannot tell what you and other men +Think of this life; but, for my single self, +I had as lief not be as live to be +In awe of such a thing as I myself. +I was born free as Caesar; so were you: +We both have fed as well, and we can both +Endure the winter's cold as well as he: +For once, upon a raw and gusty day, +The troubled Tiber chafing with her shores, +Caesar said to me 'Darest thou, Cassius, now +Leap in with me into this angry flood, +And swim to yonder point?' Upon the word, +Accoutred as I was, I plunged in +And bade him follow; so indeed he did. +The torrent roar'd, and we did buffet it +With lusty sinews, throwing it aside +And stemming it with hearts of controversy; +But ere we could arrive the point proposed, +Caesar cried 'Help me, Cassius, or I sink!' +I, as Aeneas, our great ancestor, +Did from the flames of Troy upon his shoulder +The old Anchises bear, so from the waves of Tiber +Did I the tired Caesar. And this man +Is now become a god, and Cassius is +A wretched creature and must bend his body, +If Caesar carelessly but nod on him. +He had a fever when he was in Spain, +And when the fit was on him, I did mark +How he did shake: 'tis true, this god did shake; +His coward lips did from their colour fly, +And that same eye whose bend doth awe the world +Did lose his lustre: I did hear him groan: +Ay, and that tongue of his that bade the Romans +Mark him and write his speeches in their books, +Alas, it cried 'Give me some drink, Titinius,' +As a sick girl. Ye gods, it doth amaze me +A man of such a feeble temper should +So get the start of the majestic world +And bear the palm alone. + +Shout. Flourish + +BRUTUS +Another general shout! +I do believe that these applauses are +For some new honours that are heap'd on Caesar. + +CASSIUS +Why, man, he doth bestride the narrow world +Like a Colossus, and we petty men +Walk under his huge legs and peep about +To find ourselves dishonourable graves. +Men at some time are masters of their fates: +The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars, +But in ourselves, that we are underlings. +Brutus and Caesar: what should be in that 'Caesar'? +Why should that name be sounded more than yours? +Write them together, yours is as fair a name; +Sound them, it doth become the mouth as well; +Weigh them, it is as heavy; conjure with 'em, +Brutus will start a spirit as soon as Caesar. +Now, in the names of all the gods at once, +Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed, +That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! +Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! +When went there by an age, since the great flood, +But it was famed with more than with one man? +When could they say till now, that talk'd of Rome, +That her wide walls encompass'd but one man? +Now is it Rome indeed and room enough, +When there is in it but one only man. +O, you and I have heard our fathers say, +There was a Brutus once that would have brook'd +The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome +As easily as a king. + +BRUTUS +That you do love me, I am nothing jealous; +What you would work me to, I have some aim: +How I have thought of this and of these times, +I shall recount hereafter; for this present, +I would not, so with love I might entreat you, +Be any further moved. What you have said +I will consider; what you have to say +I will with patience hear, and find a time +Both meet to hear and answer such high things. +Till then, my noble friend, chew upon this: +Brutus had rather be a villager +Than to repute himself a son of Rome +Under these hard conditions as this time +Is like to lay upon us. + +CASSIUS +I am glad that my weak words +Have struck but thus much show of fire from Brutus. + +BRUTUS +The games are done and Caesar is returning. + +CASSIUS +As they pass by, pluck Casca by the sleeve; +And he will, after his sour fashion, tell you +What hath proceeded worthy note to-day. + +Re-enter CAESAR and his Train + +BRUTUS +I will do so. But, look you, Cassius, +The angry spot doth glow on Caesar's brow, +And all the rest look like a chidden train: +Calpurnia's cheek is pale; and Cicero +Looks with such ferret and such fiery eyes +As we have seen him in the Capitol, +Being cross'd in conference by some senators. + +CASSIUS +Casca will tell us what the matter is. + +CAESAR +Antonius! + +ANTONY +Caesar? + +CAESAR +Let me have men about me that are fat; +Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o' nights: +Yond Cassius has a lean and hungry look; +He thinks too much: such men are dangerous. + +ANTONY +Fear him not, Caesar; he's not dangerous; +He is a noble Roman and well given. + +CAESAR +Would he were fatter! But I fear him not: +Yet if my name were liable to fear, +I do not know the man I should avoid +So soon as that spare Cassius. He reads much; +He is a great observer and he looks +Quite through the deeds of men: he loves no plays, +As thou dost, Antony; he hears no music; +Seldom he smiles, and smiles in such a sort +As if he mock'd himself and scorn'd his spirit +That could be moved to smile at any thing. +Such men as he be never at heart's ease +Whiles they behold a greater than themselves, +And therefore are they very dangerous. +I rather tell thee what is to be fear'd +Than what I fear; for always I am Caesar. +Come on my right hand, for this ear is deaf, +And tell me truly what thou think'st of him. + +Sennet. Exeunt CAESAR and all his Train, but CASCA + +CASCA +You pull'd me by the cloak; would you speak with me? + +BRUTUS +Ay, Casca; tell us what hath chanced to-day, +That Caesar looks so sad. + +CASCA +Why, you were with him, were you not? + +BRUTUS +I should not then ask Casca what had chanced. + +CASCA +Why, there was a crown offered him: and being +offered him, he put it by with the back of his hand, +thus; and then the people fell a-shouting. + +BRUTUS +What was the second noise for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +CASSIUS +They shouted thrice: what was the last cry for? + +CASCA +Why, for that too. + +BRUTUS +Was the crown offered him thrice? + +CASCA +Ay, marry, was't, and he put it by thrice, every +time gentler than other, and at every putting-by +mine honest neighbours shouted. + +CASSIUS +Who offered him the crown? + +CASCA +Why, Antony. + +BRUTUS +Tell us the manner of it, gentle Casca. + +CASCA +I can as well be hanged as tell the manner of it: +it was mere foolery; I did not mark it. I saw Mark +Antony offer him a crown;--yet 'twas not a crown +neither, 'twas one of these coronets;--and, as I told +you, he put it by once: but, for all that, to my +thinking, he would fain have had it. Then he +offered it to him again; then he put it by again: +but, to my thinking, he was very loath to lay his +fingers off it. And then he offered it the third +time; he put it the third time by: and still as he +refused it, the rabblement hooted and clapped their +chapped hands and threw up their sweaty night-caps +and uttered such a deal of stinking breath because +Caesar refused the crown that it had almost choked +Caesar; for he swounded and fell down at it: and +for mine own part, I durst not laugh, for fear of +opening my lips and receiving the bad air. + +CASSIUS +But, soft, I pray you: what, did Caesar swound? + +CASCA +He fell down in the market-place, and foamed at +mouth, and was speechless. + +BRUTUS +'Tis very like: he hath the failing sickness. + +CASSIUS +No, Caesar hath it not; but you and I, +And honest Casca, we have the falling sickness. + +CASCA +I know not what you mean by that; but, I am sure, +Caesar fell down. If the tag-rag people did not +clap him and hiss him, according as he pleased and +displeased them, as they use to do the players in +the theatre, I am no true man. + +BRUTUS +What said he when he came unto himself? + +CASCA +Marry, before he fell down, when he perceived the +common herd was glad he refused the crown, he +plucked me ope his doublet and offered them his +throat to cut. An I had been a man of any +occupation, if I would not have taken him at a word, +I would I might go to hell among the rogues. And so +he fell. When he came to himself again, he said, +If he had done or said any thing amiss, he desired +their worships to think it was his infirmity. Three +or four wenches, where I stood, cried 'Alas, good +soul!' and forgave him with all their hearts: but +there's no heed to be taken of them; if Caesar had +stabbed their mothers, they would have done no less. + +BRUTUS +And after that, he came, thus sad, away? + +CASCA +Ay. + +CASSIUS +Did Cicero say any thing? + +CASCA +Ay, he spoke Greek. + +CASSIUS +To what effect? + +CASCA +Nay, an I tell you that, Ill ne'er look you i' the +face again: but those that understood him smiled at +one another and shook their heads; but, for mine own +part, it was Greek to me. I could tell you more +news too: Marullus and Flavius, for pulling scarfs +off Caesar's images, are put to silence. Fare you +well. There was more foolery yet, if I could +remember it. + +CASSIUS +Will you sup with me to-night, Casca? + +CASCA +No, I am promised forth. + +CASSIUS +Will you dine with me to-morrow? + +CASCA +Ay, if I be alive and your mind hold and your dinner +worth the eating. + +CASSIUS +Good: I will expect you. + +CASCA +Do so. Farewell, both. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +What a blunt fellow is this grown to be! +He was quick mettle when he went to school. + +CASSIUS +So is he now in execution +Of any bold or noble enterprise, +However he puts on this tardy form. +This rudeness is a sauce to his good wit, +Which gives men stomach to digest his words +With better appetite. + +BRUTUS +And so it is. For this time I will leave you: +To-morrow, if you please to speak with me, +I will come home to you; or, if you will, +Come home to me, and I will wait for you. + +CASSIUS +I will do so: till then, think of the world. + +Exit BRUTUS + +Well, Brutus, thou art noble; yet, I see, +Thy honourable metal may be wrought +From that it is disposed: therefore it is meet +That noble minds keep ever with their likes; +For who so firm that cannot be seduced? +Caesar doth bear me hard; but he loves Brutus: +If I were Brutus now and he were Cassius, +He should not humour me. I will this night, +In several hands, in at his windows throw, +As if they came from several citizens, +Writings all tending to the great opinion +That Rome holds of his name; wherein obscurely +Caesar's ambition shall be glanced at: +And after this let Caesar seat him sure; +For we will shake him, or worse days endure. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The same. A street. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter from opposite sides, CASCA, with his sword drawn, and CICERO +CICERO +Good even, Casca: brought you Caesar home? +Why are you breathless? and why stare you so? + +CASCA +Are not you moved, when all the sway of earth +Shakes like a thing unfirm? O Cicero, +I have seen tempests, when the scolding winds +Have rived the knotty oaks, and I have seen +The ambitious ocean swell and rage and foam, +To be exalted with the threatening clouds: +But never till to-night, never till now, +Did I go through a tempest dropping fire. +Either there is a civil strife in heaven, +Or else the world, too saucy with the gods, +Incenses them to send destruction. + +CICERO +Why, saw you any thing more wonderful? + +CASCA +A common slave--you know him well by sight-- +Held up his left hand, which did flame and burn +Like twenty torches join'd, and yet his hand, +Not sensible of fire, remain'd unscorch'd. +Besides--I ha' not since put up my sword-- +Against the Capitol I met a lion, +Who glared upon me, and went surly by, +Without annoying me: and there were drawn +Upon a heap a hundred ghastly women, +Transformed with their fear; who swore they saw +Men all in fire walk up and down the streets. +And yesterday the bird of night did sit +Even at noon-day upon the market-place, +Hooting and shrieking. When these prodigies +Do so conjointly meet, let not men say +'These are their reasons; they are natural;' +For, I believe, they are portentous things +Unto the climate that they point upon. + +CICERO +Indeed, it is a strange-disposed time: +But men may construe things after their fashion, +Clean from the purpose of the things themselves. +Come Caesar to the Capitol to-morrow? + +CASCA +He doth; for he did bid Antonius +Send word to you he would be there to-morrow. + +CICERO +Good night then, Casca: this disturbed sky +Is not to walk in. + +CASCA +Farewell, Cicero. + +Exit CICERO + +Enter CASSIUS + +CASSIUS +Who's there? + +CASCA +A Roman. + +CASSIUS +Casca, by your voice. + +CASCA +Your ear is good. Cassius, what night is this! + +CASSIUS +A very pleasing night to honest men. + +CASCA +Who ever knew the heavens menace so? + +CASSIUS +Those that have known the earth so full of faults. +For my part, I have walk'd about the streets, +Submitting me unto the perilous night, +And, thus unbraced, Casca, as you see, +Have bared my bosom to the thunder-stone; +And when the cross blue lightning seem'd to open +The breast of heaven, I did present myself +Even in the aim and very flash of it. + +CASCA +But wherefore did you so much tempt the heavens? +It is the part of men to fear and tremble, +When the most mighty gods by tokens send +Such dreadful heralds to astonish us. + +CASSIUS +You are dull, Casca, and those sparks of life +That should be in a Roman you do want, +Or else you use not. You look pale and gaze +And put on fear and cast yourself in wonder, +To see the strange impatience of the heavens: +But if you would consider the true cause +Why all these fires, why all these gliding ghosts, +Why birds and beasts from quality and kind, +Why old men fool and children calculate, +Why all these things change from their ordinance +Their natures and preformed faculties +To monstrous quality,--why, you shall find +That heaven hath infused them with these spirits, +To make them instruments of fear and warning +Unto some monstrous state. +Now could I, Casca, name to thee a man +Most like this dreadful night, +That thunders, lightens, opens graves, and roars +As doth the lion in the Capitol, +A man no mightier than thyself or me +In personal action, yet prodigious grown +And fearful, as these strange eruptions are. + +CASCA +'Tis Caesar that you mean; is it not, Cassius? + +CASSIUS +Let it be who it is: for Romans now +Have thews and limbs like to their ancestors; +But, woe the while! our fathers' minds are dead, +And we are govern'd with our mothers' spirits; +Our yoke and sufferance show us womanish. + +CASCA +Indeed, they say the senators tomorrow +Mean to establish Caesar as a king; +And he shall wear his crown by sea and land, +In every place, save here in Italy. + +CASSIUS +I know where I will wear this dagger then; +Cassius from bondage will deliver Cassius: +Therein, ye gods, you make the weak most strong; +Therein, ye gods, you tyrants do defeat: +Nor stony tower, nor walls of beaten brass, +Nor airless dungeon, nor strong links of iron, +Can be retentive to the strength of spirit; +But life, being weary of these worldly bars, +Never lacks power to dismiss itself. +If I know this, know all the world besides, +That part of tyranny that I do bear +I can shake off at pleasure. + +Thunder still + +CASCA +So can I: +So every bondman in his own hand bears +The power to cancel his captivity. + +CASSIUS +And why should Caesar be a tyrant then? +Poor man! I know he would not be a wolf, +But that he sees the Romans are but sheep: +He were no lion, were not Romans hinds. +Those that with haste will make a mighty fire +Begin it with weak straws: what trash is Rome, +What rubbish and what offal, when it serves +For the base matter to illuminate +So vile a thing as Caesar! But, O grief, +Where hast thou led me? I perhaps speak this +Before a willing bondman; then I know +My answer must be made. But I am arm'd, +And dangers are to me indifferent. + +CASCA +You speak to Casca, and to such a man +That is no fleering tell-tale. Hold, my hand: +Be factious for redress of all these griefs, +And I will set this foot of mine as far +As who goes farthest. + +CASSIUS +There's a bargain made. +Now know you, Casca, I have moved already +Some certain of the noblest-minded Romans +To undergo with me an enterprise +Of honourable-dangerous consequence; +And I do know, by this, they stay for me +In Pompey's porch: for now, this fearful night, +There is no stir or walking in the streets; +And the complexion of the element +In favour's like the work we have in hand, +Most bloody, fiery, and most terrible. + +CASCA +Stand close awhile, for here comes one in haste. + +CASSIUS +'Tis Cinna; I do know him by his gait; +He is a friend. + +Enter CINNA + +Cinna, where haste you so? + +CINNA +To find out you. Who's that? Metellus Cimber? + +CASSIUS +No, it is Casca; one incorporate +To our attempts. Am I not stay'd for, Cinna? + +CINNA +I am glad on 't. What a fearful night is this! +There's two or three of us have seen strange sights. + +CASSIUS +Am I not stay'd for? tell me. + +CINNA +Yes, you are. +O Cassius, if you could +But win the noble Brutus to our party-- + +CASSIUS +Be you content: good Cinna, take this paper, +And look you lay it in the praetor's chair, +Where Brutus may but find it; and throw this +In at his window; set this up with wax +Upon old Brutus' statue: all this done, +Repair to Pompey's porch, where you shall find us. +Is Decius Brutus and Trebonius there? + +CINNA +All but Metellus Cimber; and he's gone +To seek you at your house. Well, I will hie, +And so bestow these papers as you bade me. + +CASSIUS +That done, repair to Pompey's theatre. + +Exit CINNA + +Come, Casca, you and I will yet ere day +See Brutus at his house: three parts of him +Is ours already, and the man entire +Upon the next encounter yields him ours. + +CASCA +O, he sits high in all the people's hearts: +And that which would appear offence in us, +His countenance, like richest alchemy, +Will change to virtue and to worthiness. + +CASSIUS +Him and his worth and our great need of him +You have right well conceited. Let us go, +For it is after midnight; and ere day +We will awake him and be sure of him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Rome. BRUTUS's orchard. + +Enter BRUTUS +BRUTUS +What, Lucius, ho! +I cannot, by the progress of the stars, +Give guess how near to day. Lucius, I say! +I would it were my fault to sleep so soundly. +When, Lucius, when? awake, I say! what, Lucius! + +Enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Call'd you, my lord? + +BRUTUS +Get me a taper in my study, Lucius: +When it is lighted, come and call me here. + +LUCIUS +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +It must be by his death: and for my part, +I know no personal cause to spurn at him, +But for the general. He would be crown'd: +How that might change his nature, there's the question. +It is the bright day that brings forth the adder; +And that craves wary walking. Crown him?--that;-- +And then, I grant, we put a sting in him, +That at his will he may do danger with. +The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins +Remorse from power: and, to speak truth of Caesar, +I have not known when his affections sway'd +More than his reason. But 'tis a common proof, +That lowliness is young ambition's ladder, +Whereto the climber-upward turns his face; +But when he once attains the upmost round. +He then unto the ladder turns his back, +Looks in the clouds, scorning the base degrees +By which he did ascend. So Caesar may. +Then, lest he may, prevent. And, since the quarrel +Will bear no colour for the thing he is, +Fashion it thus; that what he is, augmented, +Would run to these and these extremities: +And therefore think him as a serpent's egg +Which, hatch'd, would, as his kind, grow mischievous, +And kill him in the shell. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +The taper burneth in your closet, sir. +Searching the window for a flint, I found +This paper, thus seal'd up; and, I am sure, +It did not lie there when I went to bed. + +Gives him the letter + +BRUTUS +Get you to bed again; it is not day. +Is not to-morrow, boy, the ides of March? + +LUCIUS +I know not, sir. + +BRUTUS +Look in the calendar, and bring me word. + +LUCIUS +I will, sir. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +The exhalations whizzing in the air +Give so much light that I may read by them. + +Opens the letter and reads + +'Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake, and see thyself. +Shall Rome, & c. Speak, strike, redress! +Brutus, thou sleep'st: awake!' +Such instigations have been often dropp'd +Where I have took them up. +'Shall Rome, & c.' Thus must I piece it out: +Shall Rome stand under one man's awe? What, Rome? +My ancestors did from the streets of Rome +The Tarquin drive, when he was call'd a king. +'Speak, strike, redress!' Am I entreated +To speak and strike? O Rome, I make thee promise: +If the redress will follow, thou receivest +Thy full petition at the hand of Brutus! + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, March is wasted fourteen days. + +Knocking within + +BRUTUS +'Tis good. Go to the gate; somebody knocks. + +Exit LUCIUS + +Since Cassius first did whet me against Caesar, +I have not slept. +Between the acting of a dreadful thing +And the first motion, all the interim is +Like a phantasma, or a hideous dream: +The Genius and the mortal instruments +Are then in council; and the state of man, +Like to a little kingdom, suffers then +The nature of an insurrection. + +Re-enter LUCIUS + +LUCIUS +Sir, 'tis your brother Cassius at the door, +Who doth desire to see you. + +BRUTUS +Is he alone? + +LUCIUS +No, sir, there are moe with him. + +BRUTUS +Do you know them? + +LUCIUS +No, sir; their hats are pluck'd about their ears, +And half their faces buried in their cloaks, +That by no means I may discover them +By any mark of favour. + +BRUTUS +Let 'em enter. + +Exit LUCIUS + +They are the faction. O conspiracy, +Shamest thou to show thy dangerous brow by night, +When evils are most free? O, then by day +Where wilt thou find a cavern dark enough +To mask thy monstrous visage? Seek none, conspiracy; +Hide it in smiles and affability: +For if thou path, thy native semblance on, +Not Erebus itself were dim enough +To hide thee from prevention. + +Enter the conspirators, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, CINNA, METELLUS CIMBER, and TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +I think we are too bold upon your rest: +Good morrow, Brutus; do we trouble you? + +BRUTUS +I have been up this hour, awake all night. +Know I these men that come along with you? + +CASSIUS +Yes, every man of them, and no man here +But honours you; and every one doth wish +You had but that opinion of yourself +Which every noble Roman bears of you. +This is Trebonius. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome hither. + +CASSIUS +This, Decius Brutus. + +BRUTUS +He is welcome too. + +CASSIUS +This, Casca; this, Cinna; and this, Metellus Cimber. + +BRUTUS +They are all welcome. +What watchful cares do interpose themselves +Betwixt your eyes and night? + +CASSIUS +Shall I entreat a word? + +BRUTUS and CASSIUS whisper + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Here lies the east: doth not the day break here? + +CASCA +No. + +CINNA +O, pardon, sir, it doth; and yon gray lines +That fret the clouds are messengers of day. + +CASCA +You shall confess that you are both deceived. +Here, as I point my sword, the sun arises, +Which is a great way growing on the south, +Weighing the youthful season of the year. +Some two months hence up higher toward the north +He first presents his fire; and the high east +Stands, as the Capitol, directly here. + +BRUTUS +Give me your hands all over, one by one. + +CASSIUS +And let us swear our resolution. + +BRUTUS +No, not an oath: if not the face of men, +The sufferance of our souls, the time's abuse,-- +If these be motives weak, break off betimes, +And every man hence to his idle bed; +So let high-sighted tyranny range on, +Till each man drop by lottery. But if these, +As I am sure they do, bear fire enough +To kindle cowards and to steel with valour +The melting spirits of women, then, countrymen, +What need we any spur but our own cause, +To prick us to redress? what other bond +Than secret Romans, that have spoke the word, +And will not palter? and what other oath +Than honesty to honesty engaged, +That this shall be, or we will fall for it? +Swear priests and cowards and men cautelous, +Old feeble carrions and such suffering souls +That welcome wrongs; unto bad causes swear +Such creatures as men doubt; but do not stain +The even virtue of our enterprise, +Nor the insuppressive mettle of our spirits, +To think that or our cause or our performance +Did need an oath; when every drop of blood +That every Roman bears, and nobly bears, +Is guilty of a several bastardy, +If he do break the smallest particle +Of any promise that hath pass'd from him. + +CASSIUS +But what of Cicero? shall we sound him? +I think he will stand very strong with us. + +CASCA +Let us not leave him out. + +CINNA +No, by no means. + +METELLUS CIMBER +O, let us have him, for his silver hairs +Will purchase us a good opinion +And buy men's voices to commend our deeds: +It shall be said, his judgment ruled our hands; +Our youths and wildness shall no whit appear, +But all be buried in his gravity. + +BRUTUS +O, name him not: let us not break with him; +For he will never follow any thing +That other men begin. + +CASSIUS +Then leave him out. + +CASCA +Indeed he is not fit. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Shall no man else be touch'd but only Caesar? + +CASSIUS +Decius, well urged: I think it is not meet, +Mark Antony, so well beloved of Caesar, +Should outlive Caesar: we shall find of him +A shrewd contriver; and, you know, his means, +If he improve them, may well stretch so far +As to annoy us all: which to prevent, +Let Antony and Caesar fall together. + +BRUTUS +Our course will seem too bloody, Caius Cassius, +To cut the head off and then hack the limbs, +Like wrath in death and envy afterwards; +For Antony is but a limb of Caesar: +Let us be sacrificers, but not butchers, Caius. +We all stand up against the spirit of Caesar; +And in the spirit of men there is no blood: +O, that we then could come by Caesar's spirit, +And not dismember Caesar! But, alas, +Caesar must bleed for it! And, gentle friends, +Let's kill him boldly, but not wrathfully; +Let's carve him as a dish fit for the gods, +Not hew him as a carcass fit for hounds: +And let our hearts, as subtle masters do, +Stir up their servants to an act of rage, +And after seem to chide 'em. This shall make +Our purpose necessary and not envious: +Which so appearing to the common eyes, +We shall be call'd purgers, not murderers. +And for Mark Antony, think not of him; +For he can do no more than Caesar's arm +When Caesar's head is off. + +CASSIUS +Yet I fear him; +For in the ingrafted love he bears to Caesar-- + +BRUTUS +Alas, good Cassius, do not think of him: +If he love Caesar, all that he can do +Is to himself, take thought and die for Caesar: +And that were much he should; for he is given +To sports, to wildness and much company. + +TREBONIUS +There is no fear in him; let him not die; +For he will live, and laugh at this hereafter. + +Clock strikes + +BRUTUS +Peace! count the clock. + +CASSIUS +The clock hath stricken three. + +TREBONIUS +'Tis time to part. + +CASSIUS +But it is doubtful yet, +Whether Caesar will come forth to-day, or no; +For he is superstitious grown of late, +Quite from the main opinion he held once +Of fantasy, of dreams and ceremonies: +It may be, these apparent prodigies, +The unaccustom'd terror of this night, +And the persuasion of his augurers, +May hold him from the Capitol to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Never fear that: if he be so resolved, +I can o'ersway him; for he loves to hear +That unicorns may be betray'd with trees, +And bears with glasses, elephants with holes, +Lions with toils and men with flatterers; +But when I tell him he hates flatterers, +He says he does, being then most flattered. +Let me work; +For I can give his humour the true bent, +And I will bring him to the Capitol. + +CASSIUS +Nay, we will all of us be there to fetch him. + +BRUTUS +By the eighth hour: is that the uttermost? + +CINNA +Be that the uttermost, and fail not then. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Caius Ligarius doth bear Caesar hard, +Who rated him for speaking well of Pompey: +I wonder none of you have thought of him. + +BRUTUS +Now, good Metellus, go along by him: +He loves me well, and I have given him reasons; +Send him but hither, and I'll fashion him. + +CASSIUS +The morning comes upon 's: we'll leave you, Brutus. +And, friends, disperse yourselves; but all remember +What you have said, and show yourselves true Romans. + +BRUTUS +Good gentlemen, look fresh and merrily; +Let not our looks put on our purposes, +But bear it as our Roman actors do, +With untired spirits and formal constancy: +And so good morrow to you every one. + +Exeunt all but BRUTUS + +Boy! Lucius! Fast asleep? It is no matter; +Enjoy the honey-heavy dew of slumber: +Thou hast no figures nor no fantasies, +Which busy care draws in the brains of men; +Therefore thou sleep'st so sound. + +Enter PORTIA + +PORTIA +Brutus, my lord! + +BRUTUS +Portia, what mean you? wherefore rise you now? +It is not for your health thus to commit +Your weak condition to the raw cold morning. + +PORTIA +Nor for yours neither. You've ungently, Brutus, +Stole from my bed: and yesternight, at supper, +You suddenly arose, and walk'd about, +Musing and sighing, with your arms across, +And when I ask'd you what the matter was, +You stared upon me with ungentle looks; +I urged you further; then you scratch'd your head, +And too impatiently stamp'd with your foot; +Yet I insisted, yet you answer'd not, +But, with an angry wafture of your hand, +Gave sign for me to leave you: so I did; +Fearing to strengthen that impatience +Which seem'd too much enkindled, and withal +Hoping it was but an effect of humour, +Which sometime hath his hour with every man. +It will not let you eat, nor talk, nor sleep, +And could it work so much upon your shape +As it hath much prevail'd on your condition, +I should not know you, Brutus. Dear my lord, +Make me acquainted with your cause of grief. + +BRUTUS +I am not well in health, and that is all. + +PORTIA +Brutus is wise, and, were he not in health, +He would embrace the means to come by it. + +BRUTUS +Why, so I do. Good Portia, go to bed. + +PORTIA +Is Brutus sick? and is it physical +To walk unbraced and suck up the humours +Of the dank morning? What, is Brutus sick, +And will he steal out of his wholesome bed, +To dare the vile contagion of the night +And tempt the rheumy and unpurged air +To add unto his sickness? No, my Brutus; +You have some sick offence within your mind, +Which, by the right and virtue of my place, +I ought to know of: and, upon my knees, +I charm you, by my once-commended beauty, +By all your vows of love and that great vow +Which did incorporate and make us one, +That you unfold to me, yourself, your half, +Why you are heavy, and what men to-night +Have had to resort to you: for here have been +Some six or seven, who did hide their faces +Even from darkness. + +BRUTUS +Kneel not, gentle Portia. + +PORTIA +I should not need, if you were gentle Brutus. +Within the bond of marriage, tell me, Brutus, +Is it excepted I should know no secrets +That appertain to you? Am I yourself +But, as it were, in sort or limitation, +To keep with you at meals, comfort your bed, +And talk to you sometimes? Dwell I but in the suburbs +Of your good pleasure? If it be no more, +Portia is Brutus' harlot, not his wife. + +BRUTUS +You are my true and honourable wife, +As dear to me as are the ruddy drops +That visit my sad heart + +PORTIA +If this were true, then should I know this secret. +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman that Lord Brutus took to wife: +I grant I am a woman; but withal +A woman well-reputed, Cato's daughter. +Think you I am no stronger than my sex, +Being so father'd and so husbanded? +Tell me your counsels, I will not disclose 'em: +I have made strong proof of my constancy, +Giving myself a voluntary wound +Here, in the thigh: can I bear that with patience. +And not my husband's secrets? + +BRUTUS +O ye gods, +Render me worthy of this noble wife! + +Knocking within + +Hark, hark! one knocks: Portia, go in awhile; +And by and by thy bosom shall partake +The secrets of my heart. +All my engagements I will construe to thee, +All the charactery of my sad brows: +Leave me with haste. + +Exit PORTIA + +Lucius, who's that knocks? + +Re-enter LUCIUS with LIGARIUS + +LUCIUS +He is a sick man that would speak with you. + +BRUTUS +Caius Ligarius, that Metellus spake of. +Boy, stand aside. Caius Ligarius! how? + +LIGARIUS +Vouchsafe good morrow from a feeble tongue. + +BRUTUS +O, what a time have you chose out, brave Caius, +To wear a kerchief! Would you were not sick! + +LIGARIUS +I am not sick, if Brutus have in hand +Any exploit worthy the name of honour. + +BRUTUS +Such an exploit have I in hand, Ligarius, +Had you a healthful ear to hear of it. + +LIGARIUS +By all the gods that Romans bow before, +I here discard my sickness! Soul of Rome! +Brave son, derived from honourable loins! +Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up +My mortified spirit. Now bid me run, +And I will strive with things impossible; +Yea, get the better of them. What's to do? + +BRUTUS +A piece of work that will make sick men whole. + +LIGARIUS +But are not some whole that we must make sick? + +BRUTUS +That must we also. What it is, my Caius, +I shall unfold to thee, as we are going +To whom it must be done. + +LIGARIUS +Set on your foot, +And with a heart new-fired I follow you, +To do I know not what: but it sufficeth +That Brutus leads me on. + +BRUTUS +Follow me, then. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. CAESAR's house. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter CAESAR, in his night-gown +CAESAR +Nor heaven nor earth have been at peace to-night: +Thrice hath Calpurnia in her sleep cried out, +'Help, ho! they murder Caesar!' Who's within? + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord? + +CAESAR +Go bid the priests do present sacrifice +And bring me their opinions of success. + +Servant +I will, my lord. + +Exit + +Enter CALPURNIA + +CALPURNIA +What mean you, Caesar? think you to walk forth? +You shall not stir out of your house to-day. + +CAESAR +Caesar shall forth: the things that threaten'd me +Ne'er look'd but on my back; when they shall see +The face of Caesar, they are vanished. + +CALPURNIA +Caesar, I never stood on ceremonies, +Yet now they fright me. There is one within, +Besides the things that we have heard and seen, +Recounts most horrid sights seen by the watch. +A lioness hath whelped in the streets; +And graves have yawn'd, and yielded up their dead; +Fierce fiery warriors fought upon the clouds, +In ranks and squadrons and right form of war, +Which drizzled blood upon the Capitol; +The noise of battle hurtled in the air, +Horses did neigh, and dying men did groan, +And ghosts did shriek and squeal about the streets. +O Caesar! these things are beyond all use, +And I do fear them. + +CAESAR +What can be avoided +Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods? +Yet Caesar shall go forth; for these predictions +Are to the world in general as to Caesar. + +CALPURNIA +When beggars die, there are no comets seen; +The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes. + +CAESAR +Cowards die many times before their deaths; +The valiant never taste of death but once. +Of all the wonders that I yet have heard. +It seems to me most strange that men should fear; +Seeing that death, a necessary end, +Will come when it will come. + +Re-enter Servant + +What say the augurers? + +Servant +They would not have you to stir forth to-day. +Plucking the entrails of an offering forth, +They could not find a heart within the beast. + +CAESAR +The gods do this in shame of cowardice: +Caesar should be a beast without a heart, +If he should stay at home to-day for fear. +No, Caesar shall not: danger knows full well +That Caesar is more dangerous than he: +We are two lions litter'd in one day, +And I the elder and more terrible: +And Caesar shall go forth. + +CALPURNIA +Alas, my lord, +Your wisdom is consumed in confidence. +Do not go forth to-day: call it my fear +That keeps you in the house, and not your own. +We'll send Mark Antony to the senate-house: +And he shall say you are not well to-day: +Let me, upon my knee, prevail in this. + +CAESAR +Mark Antony shall say I am not well, +And, for thy humour, I will stay at home. + +Enter DECIUS BRUTUS + +Here's Decius Brutus, he shall tell them so. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Caesar, all hail! good morrow, worthy Caesar: +I come to fetch you to the senate-house. + +CAESAR +And you are come in very happy time, +To bear my greeting to the senators +And tell them that I will not come to-day: +Cannot, is false, and that I dare not, falser: +I will not come to-day: tell them so, Decius. + +CALPURNIA +Say he is sick. + +CAESAR +Shall Caesar send a lie? +Have I in conquest stretch'd mine arm so far, +To be afraid to tell graybeards the truth? +Decius, go tell them Caesar will not come. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Most mighty Caesar, let me know some cause, +Lest I be laugh'd at when I tell them so. + +CAESAR +The cause is in my will: I will not come; +That is enough to satisfy the senate. +But for your private satisfaction, +Because I love you, I will let you know: +Calpurnia here, my wife, stays me at home: +She dreamt to-night she saw my statua, +Which, like a fountain with an hundred spouts, +Did run pure blood: and many lusty Romans +Came smiling, and did bathe their hands in it: +And these does she apply for warnings, and portents, +And evils imminent; and on her knee +Hath begg'd that I will stay at home to-day. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +This dream is all amiss interpreted; +It was a vision fair and fortunate: +Your statue spouting blood in many pipes, +In which so many smiling Romans bathed, +Signifies that from you great Rome shall suck +Reviving blood, and that great men shall press +For tinctures, stains, relics and cognizance. +This by Calpurnia's dream is signified. + +CAESAR +And this way have you well expounded it. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +I have, when you have heard what I can say: +And know it now: the senate have concluded +To give this day a crown to mighty Caesar. +If you shall send them word you will not come, +Their minds may change. Besides, it were a mock +Apt to be render'd, for some one to say +'Break up the senate till another time, +When Caesar's wife shall meet with better dreams.' +If Caesar hide himself, shall they not whisper +'Lo, Caesar is afraid'? +Pardon me, Caesar; for my dear dear love +To our proceeding bids me tell you this; +And reason to my love is liable. + +CAESAR +How foolish do your fears seem now, Calpurnia! +I am ashamed I did yield to them. +Give me my robe, for I will go. + +Enter PUBLIUS, BRUTUS, LIGARIUS, METELLUS, CASCA, TREBONIUS, and CINNA + +And look where Publius is come to fetch me. + +PUBLIUS +Good morrow, Caesar. + +CAESAR +Welcome, Publius. +What, Brutus, are you stirr'd so early too? +Good morrow, Casca. Caius Ligarius, +Caesar was ne'er so much your enemy +As that same ague which hath made you lean. +What is 't o'clock? + +BRUTUS +Caesar, 'tis strucken eight. + +CAESAR +I thank you for your pains and courtesy. + +Enter ANTONY + +See! Antony, that revels long o' nights, +Is notwithstanding up. Good morrow, Antony. + +ANTONY +So to most noble Caesar. + +CAESAR +Bid them prepare within: +I am to blame to be thus waited for. +Now, Cinna: now, Metellus: what, Trebonius! +I have an hour's talk in store for you; +Remember that you call on me to-day: +Be near me, that I may remember you. + +TREBONIUS +Caesar, I will: + +Aside + +and so near will I be, +That your best friends shall wish I had been further. + +CAESAR +Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; +And we, like friends, will straightway go together. + +BRUTUS +[Aside] That every like is not the same, O Caesar, +The heart of Brutus yearns to think upon! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A street near the Capitol. + +Enter ARTEMIDORUS, reading a paper +ARTEMIDORUS +'Caesar, beware of Brutus; take heed of Cassius; +come not near Casca; have an eye to Cinna, trust not +Trebonius: mark well Metellus Cimber: Decius Brutus +loves thee not: thou hast wronged Caius Ligarius. +There is but one mind in all these men, and it is +bent against Caesar. If thou beest not immortal, +look about you: security gives way to conspiracy. +The mighty gods defend thee! Thy lover, +'ARTEMIDORUS.' +Here will I stand till Caesar pass along, +And as a suitor will I give him this. +My heart laments that virtue cannot live +Out of the teeth of emulation. +If thou read this, O Caesar, thou mayst live; +If not, the Fates with traitors do contrive. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. Another part of the same street, before the house of BRUTUS. + +Enter PORTIA and LUCIUS +PORTIA +I prithee, boy, run to the senate-house; +Stay not to answer me, but get thee gone: +Why dost thou stay? + +LUCIUS +To know my errand, madam. + +PORTIA +I would have had thee there, and here again, +Ere I can tell thee what thou shouldst do there. +O constancy, be strong upon my side, +Set a huge mountain 'tween my heart and tongue! +I have a man's mind, but a woman's might. +How hard it is for women to keep counsel! +Art thou here yet? + +LUCIUS +Madam, what should I do? +Run to the Capitol, and nothing else? +And so return to you, and nothing else? + +PORTIA +Yes, bring me word, boy, if thy lord look well, +For he went sickly forth: and take good note +What Caesar doth, what suitors press to him. +Hark, boy! what noise is that? + +LUCIUS +I hear none, madam. + +PORTIA +Prithee, listen well; +I heard a bustling rumour, like a fray, +And the wind brings it from the Capitol. + +LUCIUS +Sooth, madam, I hear nothing. + +Enter the Soothsayer + +PORTIA +Come hither, fellow: which way hast thou been? + +Soothsayer +At mine own house, good lady. + +PORTIA +What is't o'clock? + +Soothsayer +About the ninth hour, lady. + +PORTIA +Is Caesar yet gone to the Capitol? + +Soothsayer +Madam, not yet: I go to take my stand, +To see him pass on to the Capitol. + +PORTIA +Thou hast some suit to Caesar, hast thou not? + +Soothsayer +That I have, lady: if it will please Caesar +To be so good to Caesar as to hear me, +I shall beseech him to befriend himself. + +PORTIA +Why, know'st thou any harm's intended towards him? + +Soothsayer +None that I know will be, much that I fear may chance. +Good morrow to you. Here the street is narrow: +The throng that follows Caesar at the heels, +Of senators, of praetors, common suitors, +Will crowd a feeble man almost to death: +I'll get me to a place more void, and there +Speak to great Caesar as he comes along. + +Exit + +PORTIA +I must go in. Ay me, how weak a thing +The heart of woman is! O Brutus, +The heavens speed thee in thine enterprise! +Sure, the boy heard me: Brutus hath a suit +That Caesar will not grant. O, I grow faint. +Run, Lucius, and commend me to my lord; +Say I am merry: come to me again, +And bring me word what he doth say to thee. + +Exeunt severally + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Rome. Before the Capitol; the Senate sitting above. + +A crowd of people; among them ARTEMIDORUS and the Soothsayer. Flourish. Enter CAESAR, BRUTUS, CASSIUS, CASCA, DECIUS BRUTUS, METELLUS CIMBER, TREBONIUS, CINNA, ANTONY, LEPIDUS, POPILIUS, PUBLIUS, and others +CAESAR +[To the Soothsayer] The ides of March are come. + +Soothsayer +Ay, Caesar; but not gone. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Hail, Caesar! read this schedule. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Trebonius doth desire you to o'erread, +At your best leisure, this his humble suit. + +ARTEMIDORUS +O Caesar, read mine first; for mine's a suit +That touches Caesar nearer: read it, great Caesar. + +CAESAR +What touches us ourself shall be last served. + +ARTEMIDORUS +Delay not, Caesar; read it instantly. + +CAESAR +What, is the fellow mad? + +PUBLIUS +Sirrah, give place. + +CASSIUS +What, urge you your petitions in the street? +Come to the Capitol. + +CAESAR goes up to the Senate-House, the rest following + +POPILIUS +I wish your enterprise to-day may thrive. + +CASSIUS +What enterprise, Popilius? + +POPILIUS +Fare you well. + +Advances to CAESAR + +BRUTUS +What said Popilius Lena? + +CASSIUS +He wish'd to-day our enterprise might thrive. +I fear our purpose is discovered. + +BRUTUS +Look, how he makes to Caesar; mark him. + +CASSIUS +Casca, be sudden, for we fear prevention. +Brutus, what shall be done? If this be known, +Cassius or Caesar never shall turn back, +For I will slay myself. + +BRUTUS +Cassius, be constant: +Popilius Lena speaks not of our purposes; +For, look, he smiles, and Caesar doth not change. + +CASSIUS +Trebonius knows his time; for, look you, Brutus. +He draws Mark Antony out of the way. + +Exeunt ANTONY and TREBONIUS + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Where is Metellus Cimber? Let him go, +And presently prefer his suit to Caesar. + +BRUTUS +He is address'd: press near and second him. + +CINNA +Casca, you are the first that rears your hand. + +CAESAR +Are we all ready? What is now amiss +That Caesar and his senate must redress? + +METELLUS CIMBER +Most high, most mighty, and most puissant Caesar, +Metellus Cimber throws before thy seat +An humble heart,-- + +Kneeling + +CAESAR +I must prevent thee, Cimber. +These couchings and these lowly courtesies +Might fire the blood of ordinary men, +And turn pre-ordinance and first decree +Into the law of children. Be not fond, +To think that Caesar bears such rebel blood +That will be thaw'd from the true quality +With that which melteth fools; I mean, sweet words, +Low-crooked court'sies and base spaniel-fawning. +Thy brother by decree is banished: +If thou dost bend and pray and fawn for him, +I spurn thee like a cur out of my way. +Know, Caesar doth not wrong, nor without cause +Will he be satisfied. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Is there no voice more worthy than my own +To sound more sweetly in great Caesar's ear +For the repealing of my banish'd brother? + +BRUTUS +I kiss thy hand, but not in flattery, Caesar; +Desiring thee that Publius Cimber may +Have an immediate freedom of repeal. + +CAESAR +What, Brutus! + +CASSIUS +Pardon, Caesar; Caesar, pardon: +As low as to thy foot doth Cassius fall, +To beg enfranchisement for Publius Cimber. + +CASSIUS +I could be well moved, if I were as you: +If I could pray to move, prayers would move me: +But I am constant as the northern star, +Of whose true-fix'd and resting quality +There is no fellow in the firmament. +The skies are painted with unnumber'd sparks, +They are all fire and every one doth shine, +But there's but one in all doth hold his place: +So in the world; 'tis furnish'd well with men, +And men are flesh and blood, and apprehensive; +Yet in the number I do know but one +That unassailable holds on his rank, +Unshaked of motion: and that I am he, +Let me a little show it, even in this; +That I was constant Cimber should be banish'd, +And constant do remain to keep him so. + +CINNA +O Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Hence! wilt thou lift up Olympus? + +DECIUS BRUTUS +Great Caesar,-- + +CAESAR +Doth not Brutus bootless kneel? + +CASCA +Speak, hands for me! + +CASCA first, then the other Conspirators and BRUTUS stab CAESAR + +CAESAR +Et tu, Brute! Then fall, Caesar. + +Dies + +CINNA +Liberty! Freedom! Tyranny is dead! +Run hence, proclaim, cry it about the streets. + +CASSIUS +Some to the common pulpits, and cry out +'Liberty, freedom, and enfranchisement!' + +BRUTUS +People and senators, be not affrighted; +Fly not; stand stiff: ambition's debt is paid. + +CASCA +Go to the pulpit, Brutus. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +And Cassius too. + +BRUTUS +Where's Publius? + +CINNA +Here, quite confounded with this mutiny. + +METELLUS CIMBER +Stand fast together, lest some friend of Caesar's +Should chance-- + +BRUTUS +Talk not of standing. Publius, good cheer; +There is no harm intended to your person, +Nor to no Roman else: so tell them, Publius. + +CASSIUS +And leave us, Publius; lest that the people, +Rushing on us, should do your age some mischief. + +BRUTUS +Do so: and let no man abide this deed, +But we the doers. + +Re-enter TREBONIUS + +CASSIUS +Where is Antony? + +TREBONIUS +Fled to his house amazed: +Men, wives and children stare, cry out and run +As it were doomsday. + +BRUTUS +Fates, we will know your pleasures: +That we shall die, we know; 'tis but the time +And drawing days out, that men stand upon. + +CASSIUS +Why, he that cuts off twenty years of life +Cuts off so many years of fearing death. + +BRUTUS +Grant that, and then is death a benefit: +So are we Caesar's friends, that have abridged +His time of fearing death. Stoop, Romans, stoop, +And let us bathe our hands in Caesar's blood +Up to the elbows, and besmear our swords: +Then walk we forth, even to the market-place, +And, waving our red weapons o'er our heads, +Let's all cry 'Peace, freedom and liberty!' + +CASSIUS +Stoop, then, and wash. How many ages hence +Shall this our lofty scene be acted over +In states unborn and accents yet unknown! + +BRUTUS +How many times shall Caesar bleed in sport, +That now on Pompey's basis lies along +No worthier than the dust! + +CASSIUS +So oft as that shall be, +So often shall the knot of us be call'd +The men that gave their country liberty. + +DECIUS BRUTUS +What, shall we forth? + +CASSIUS +Ay, every man away: +Brutus shall lead; and we will grace his heels +With the most boldest and best hearts of Rome. + +Enter a Servant + +BRUTUS +Soft! who comes here? A friend of Antony's. + +Servant +Thus, Brutus, did my master bid me kneel: +Thus did Mark Antony bid me fall down; +And, being prostrate, thus he bade me say: +Brutus is noble, wise, valiant, and honest; +Caesar was mighty, bold, royal, and loving: +Say I love Brutus, and I honour him; +Say I fear'd Caesar, honour'd him and loved him. +If Brutus will vouchsafe that Antony +May safely come to him, and be resolved +How Caesar hath deserved to lie in death, +Mark Antony shall not love Caesar dead +So well as Brutus living; but will follow +The fortunes and affairs of noble Brutus +Thorough the hazards of this untrod state +With all true faith. So says my master Antony. + +BRUTUS +Thy master is a wise and valiant Roman; +I never thought him worse. +Tell him, so please him come unto this place, +He shall be satisfied; and, by my honour, +Depart untouch'd. + +Servant +I'll fetch him presently. + +Exit + +BRUTUS +I know that we shall have him well to friend. + +CASSIUS +I wish we may: but yet have I a mind +That fears him much; and my misgiving still +Falls shrewdly to the purpose. + +BRUTUS +But here comes Antony. + +Re-enter ANTONY + +Welcome, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +O mighty Caesar! dost thou lie so low? +Are all thy conquests, glories, triumphs, spoils, +Shrunk to this little measure? Fare thee well. +I know not, gentlemen, what you intend, +Who else must be let blood, who else is rank: +If I myself, there is no hour so fit +As Caesar's death hour, nor no instrument +Of half that worth as those your swords, made rich +With the most noble blood of all this world. +I do beseech ye, if you bear me hard, +Now, whilst your purpled hands do reek and smoke, +Fulfil your pleasure. Live a thousand years, +I shall not find myself so apt to die: +No place will please me so, no mean of death, +As here by Caesar, and by you cut off, +The choice and master spirits of this age. + +BRUTUS +O Antony, beg not your death of us. +Though now we must appear bloody and cruel, +As, by our hands and this our present act, +You see we do, yet see you but our hands +And this the bleeding business they have done: +Our hearts you see not; they are pitiful; +And pity to the general wrong of Rome-- +As fire drives out fire, so pity pity-- +Hath done this deed on Caesar. For your part, +To you our swords have leaden points, Mark Antony: +Our arms, in strength of malice, and our hearts +Of brothers' temper, do receive you in +With all kind love, good thoughts, and reverence. + +CASSIUS +Your voice shall be as strong as any man's +In the disposing of new dignities. + +BRUTUS +Only be patient till we have appeased +The multitude, beside themselves with fear, +And then we will deliver you the cause, +Why I, that did love Caesar when I struck him, +Have thus proceeded. + +ANTONY +I doubt not of your wisdom. +Let each man render me his bloody hand: +First, Marcus Brutus, will I shake with you; +Next, Caius Cassius, do I take your hand; +Now, Decius Brutus, yours: now yours, Metellus; +Yours, Cinna; and, my valiant Casca, yours; +Though last, not last in love, yours, good Trebonius. +Gentlemen all,--alas, what shall I say? +My credit now stands on such slippery ground, +That one of two bad ways you must conceit me, +Either a coward or a flatterer. +That I did love thee, Caesar, O, 'tis true: +If then thy spirit look upon us now, +Shall it not grieve thee dearer than thy death, +To see thy thy Anthony making his peace, +Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes, +Most noble! in the presence of thy corse? +Had I as many eyes as thou hast wounds, +Weeping as fast as they stream forth thy blood, +It would become me better than to close +In terms of friendship with thine enemies. +Pardon me, Julius! Here wast thou bay'd, brave hart; +Here didst thou fall; and here thy hunters stand, +Sign'd in thy spoil, and crimson'd in thy lethe. +O world, thou wast the forest to this hart; +And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee. +How like a deer, strucken by many princes, +Dost thou here lie! + +CASSIUS +Mark Antony,-- + +ANTONY +Pardon me, Caius Cassius: +The enemies of Caesar shall say this; +Then, in a friend, it is cold modesty. + +CASSIUS +I blame you not for praising Caesar so; +But what compact mean you to have with us? +Will you be prick'd in number of our friends; +Or shall we on, and not depend on you? + +ANTONY +Therefore I took your hands, but was, indeed, +Sway'd from the point, by looking down on Caesar. +Friends am I with you all and love you all, +Upon this hope, that you shall give me reasons +Why and wherein Caesar was dangerous. + +BRUTUS +Or else were this a savage spectacle: +Our reasons are so full of good regard +That were you, Antony, the son of Caesar, +You should be satisfied. + +ANTONY +That's all I seek: +And am moreover suitor that I may +Produce his body to the market-place; +And in the pulpit, as becomes a friend, +Speak in the order of his funeral. + +BRUTUS +You shall, Mark Antony. + +CASSIUS +Brutus, a word with you. + +Aside to BRUTUS + +You know not what you do: do not consent +That Antony speak in his funeral: +Know you how much the people may be moved +By that which he will utter? + +BRUTUS +By your pardon; +I will myself into the pulpit first, +And show the reason of our Caesar's death: +What Antony shall speak, I will protest +He speaks by leave and by permission, +And that we are contented Caesar shall +Have all true rites and lawful ceremonies. +It shall advantage more than do us wrong. + +CASSIUS +I know not what may fall; I like it not. + +BRUTUS +Mark Antony, here, take you Caesar's body. +You shall not in your funeral speech blame us, +But speak all good you can devise of Caesar, +And say you do't by our permission; +Else shall you not have any hand at all +About his funeral: and you shall speak +In the same pulpit whereto I am going, +After my speech is ended. + +ANTONY +Be it so. +I do desire no more. + +BRUTUS +Prepare the body then, and follow us. + +Exeunt all but ANTONY + +ANTONY +O, pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, +That I am meek and gentle with these butchers! +Thou art the ruins of the noblest man +That ever lived in the tide of times. +Woe to the hand that shed this costly blood! +Over thy wounds now do I prophesy,-- +Which, like dumb mouths, do ope their ruby lips, +To beg the voice and utterance of my tongue-- +A curse shall light upon the limbs of men; +Domestic fury and fierce civil strife +Shall cumber all the parts of Italy; +Blood and destruction shall be so in use +And dreadful objects so familiar +That mothers shall but smile when they behold +Their infants quarter'd with the hands of war; +All pity choked with custom of fell deeds: +And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, +With Ate by his side come hot from hell, +Shall in these confines with a monarch's voice +Cry 'Havoc,' and let slip the dogs of war; +That this foul deed shall smell above the earth +With carrion men, groaning for burial. + +Enter a Servant + +You serve Octavius Caesar, do you not? + +Servant +I do, Mark Antony. + +ANTONY +Caesar did write for him to come to Rome. + +Servant +He did receive his letters, and is coming; +And bid me say to you by word of mouth-- +O Caesar!-- + +Seeing the body + +ANTONY +Thy heart is big, get thee apart and weep. +Passion, I see, is catching; for mine eyes, +Seeing those beads of sorrow stand in thine, +Began to water. Is thy master coming? + +Servant +He lies to-night within seven leagues of Rome. + +ANTONY +Post back with speed, and tell him what hath chanced: +Here is a mourning Rome, a dangerous Rome, +No Rome of safety for Octavius yet; +Hie hence, and tell him so. Yet, stay awhile; +Thou shalt not back till I have borne this corse +Into the market-place: there shall I try +In my oration, how the people take +The cruel issue of these bloody men; +According to the which, thou shalt discourse +To young Octavius of the state of things. +Lend me your hand. + +Exeunt with CAESAR's body + +SCENE II. The Forum. + +Enter BRUTUS and CASSIUS, and a throng of Citizens +Citizens +We will be satisfied; let us be satisfied. + +BRUTUS +Then follow me, and give me audience, friends. +Cassius, go you into the other street, +And part the numbers. +Those that will hear me speak, let 'em stay here; +Those that will follow Cassius, go with him; +And public reasons shall be rendered +Of Caesar's death. + +King Lear +Shakespeare homepage | King Lear | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. King Lear's palace. + +Enter KENT, GLOUCESTER, and EDMUND +KENT +I thought the king had more affected the Duke of +Albany than Cornwall. + +GLOUCESTER +It did always seem so to us: but now, in the +division of the kingdom, it appears not which of +the dukes he values most; for equalities are so +weighed, that curiosity in neither can make choice +of either's moiety. + +KENT +Is not this your son, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +His breeding, sir, hath been at my charge: I have +so often blushed to acknowledge him, that now I am +brazed to it. + +KENT +I cannot conceive you. + +GLOUCESTER +Sir, this young fellow's mother could: whereupon +she grew round-wombed, and had, indeed, sir, a son +for her cradle ere she had a husband for her bed. +Do you smell a fault? + +KENT +I cannot wish the fault undone, the issue of it +being so proper. + +GLOUCESTER +But I have, sir, a son by order of law, some year +elder than this, who yet is no dearer in my account: +though this knave came something saucily into the +world before he was sent for, yet was his mother +fair; there was good sport at his making, and the +whoreson must be acknowledged. Do you know this +noble gentleman, Edmund? + +EDMUND +No, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +My lord of Kent: remember him hereafter as my +honourable friend. + +EDMUND +My services to your lordship. + +KENT +I must love you, and sue to know you better. + +EDMUND +Sir, I shall study deserving. + +GLOUCESTER +He hath been out nine years, and away he shall +again. The king is coming. + +Sennet. Enter KING LEAR, CORNWALL, ALBANY, GONERIL, REGAN, CORDELIA, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Attend the lords of France and Burgundy, Gloucester. + +GLOUCESTER +I shall, my liege. + +Exeunt GLOUCESTER and EDMUND + +KING LEAR +Meantime we shall express our darker purpose. +Give me the map there. Know that we have divided +In three our kingdom: and 'tis our fast intent +To shake all cares and business from our age; +Conferring them on younger strengths, while we +Unburthen'd crawl toward death. Our son of Cornwall, +And you, our no less loving son of Albany, +We have this hour a constant will to publish +Our daughters' several dowers, that future strife +May be prevented now. The princes, France and Burgundy, +Great rivals in our youngest daughter's love, +Long in our court have made their amorous sojourn, +And here are to be answer'd. Tell me, my daughters,-- +Since now we will divest us both of rule, +Interest of territory, cares of state,-- +Which of you shall we say doth love us most? +That we our largest bounty may extend +Where nature doth with merit challenge. Goneril, +Our eldest-born, speak first. + +GONERIL +Sir, I love you more than words can wield the matter; +Dearer than eye-sight, space, and liberty; +Beyond what can be valued, rich or rare; +No less than life, with grace, health, beauty, honour; +As much as child e'er loved, or father found; +A love that makes breath poor, and speech unable; +Beyond all manner of so much I love you. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] What shall Cordelia do? +Love, and be silent. + +LEAR +Of all these bounds, even from this line to this, +With shadowy forests and with champains rich'd, +With plenteous rivers and wide-skirted meads, +We make thee lady: to thine and Albany's issue +Be this perpetual. What says our second daughter, +Our dearest Regan, wife to Cornwall? Speak. + +REGAN +Sir, I am made +Of the self-same metal that my sister is, +And prize me at her worth. In my true heart +I find she names my very deed of love; +Only she comes too short: that I profess +Myself an enemy to all other joys, +Which the most precious square of sense possesses; +And find I am alone felicitate +In your dear highness' love. + +CORDELIA +[Aside] Then poor Cordelia! +And yet not so; since, I am sure, my love's +More richer than my tongue. + +KING LEAR +To thee and thine hereditary ever +Remain this ample third of our fair kingdom; +No less in space, validity, and pleasure, +Than that conferr'd on Goneril. Now, our joy, +Although the last, not least; to whose young love +The vines of France and milk of Burgundy +Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw +A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak. + +CORDELIA +Nothing, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Nothing! + +CORDELIA +Nothing. + +KING LEAR +Nothing will come of nothing: speak again. + +CORDELIA +Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave +My heart into my mouth: I love your majesty +According to my bond; nor more nor less. + +KING LEAR +How, how, Cordelia! mend your speech a little, +Lest it may mar your fortunes. + +CORDELIA +Good my lord, +You have begot me, bred me, loved me: I +Return those duties back as are right fit, +Obey you, love you, and most honour you. +Why have my sisters husbands, if they say +They love you all? Haply, when I shall wed, +That lord whose hand must take my plight shall carry +Half my love with him, half my care and duty: +Sure, I shall never marry like my sisters, +To love my father all. + +KING LEAR +But goes thy heart with this? + +CORDELIA +Ay, good my lord. + +KING LEAR +So young, and so untender? + +CORDELIA +So young, my lord, and true. + +KING LEAR +Let it be so; thy truth, then, be thy dower: +For, by the sacred radiance of the sun, +The mysteries of Hecate, and the night; +By all the operation of the orbs +From whom we do exist, and cease to be; +Here I disclaim all my paternal care, +Propinquity and property of blood, +And as a stranger to my heart and me +Hold thee, from this, for ever. The barbarous Scythian, +Or he that makes his generation messes +To gorge his appetite, shall to my bosom +Be as well neighbour'd, pitied, and relieved, +As thou my sometime daughter. + +KENT +Good my liege,-- + +KING LEAR +Peace, Kent! +Come not between the dragon and his wrath. +I loved her most, and thought to set my rest +On her kind nursery. Hence, and avoid my sight! +So be my grave my peace, as here I give +Her father's heart from her! Call France; who stirs? +Call Burgundy. Cornwall and Albany, +With my two daughters' dowers digest this third: +Let pride, which she calls plainness, marry her. +I do invest you jointly with my power, +Pre-eminence, and all the large effects +That troop with majesty. Ourself, by monthly course, +With reservation of an hundred knights, +By you to be sustain'd, shall our abode +Make with you by due turns. Only we still retain +The name, and all the additions to a king; +The sway, revenue, execution of the rest, +Beloved sons, be yours: which to confirm, +This coronet part betwixt you. + +Giving the crown + +KENT +Royal Lear, +Whom I have ever honour'd as my king, +Loved as my father, as my master follow'd, +As my great patron thought on in my prayers,-- + +KING LEAR +The bow is bent and drawn, make from the shaft. + +KENT +Let it fall rather, though the fork invade +The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly, +When Lear is mad. What wilt thou do, old man? +Think'st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, +When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour's bound, +When majesty stoops to folly. Reverse thy doom; +And, in thy best consideration, cheque +This hideous rashness: answer my life my judgment, +Thy youngest daughter does not love thee least; +Nor are those empty-hearted whose low sound +Reverbs no hollowness. + +KING LEAR +Kent, on thy life, no more. + +KENT +My life I never held but as a pawn +To wage against thy enemies; nor fear to lose it, +Thy safety being the motive. + +KING LEAR +Out of my sight! + +KENT +See better, Lear; and let me still remain +The true blank of thine eye. + +KING LEAR +Now, by Apollo,-- + +KENT +Now, by Apollo, king, +Thou swear'st thy gods in vain. + +KING LEAR +O, vassal! miscreant! + +Laying his hand on his sword + +ALBANY CORNWALL +Dear sir, forbear. + +KENT +Do: +Kill thy physician, and the fee bestow +Upon thy foul disease. Revoke thy doom; +Or, whilst I can vent clamour from my throat, +I'll tell thee thou dost evil. + +KING LEAR +Hear me, recreant! +On thine allegiance, hear me! +Since thou hast sought to make us break our vow, +Which we durst never yet, and with strain'd pride +To come between our sentence and our power, +Which nor our nature nor our place can bear, +Our potency made good, take thy reward. +Five days we do allot thee, for provision +To shield thee from diseases of the world; +And on the sixth to turn thy hated back +Upon our kingdom: if, on the tenth day following, +Thy banish'd trunk be found in our dominions, +The moment is thy death. Away! by Jupiter, +This shall not be revoked. + +KENT +Fare thee well, king: sith thus thou wilt appear, +Freedom lives hence, and banishment is here. + +To CORDELIA + +The gods to their dear shelter take thee, maid, +That justly think'st, and hast most rightly said! + +To REGAN and GONERIL + +And your large speeches may your deeds approve, +That good effects may spring from words of love. +Thus Kent, O princes, bids you all adieu; +He'll shape his old course in a country new. + +Exit + +Flourish. Re-enter GLOUCESTER, with KING OF FRANCE, BURGUNDY, and Attendants + +GLOUCESTER +Here's France and Burgundy, my noble lord. + +KING LEAR +My lord of Burgundy. +We first address towards you, who with this king +Hath rivall'd for our daughter: what, in the least, +Will you require in present dower with her, +Or cease your quest of love? + +BURGUNDY +Most royal majesty, +I crave no more than what your highness offer'd, +Nor will you tender less. + +KING LEAR +Right noble Burgundy, +When she was dear to us, we did hold her so; +But now her price is fall'n. Sir, there she stands: +If aught within that little seeming substance, +Or all of it, with our displeasure pieced, +And nothing more, may fitly like your grace, +She's there, and she is yours. + +BURGUNDY +I know no answer. + +KING LEAR +Will you, with those infirmities she owes, +Unfriended, new-adopted to our hate, +Dower'd with our curse, and stranger'd with our oath, +Take her, or leave her? + +BURGUNDY +Pardon me, royal sir; +Election makes not up on such conditions. + +KING LEAR +Then leave her, sir; for, by the power that made me, +I tell you all her wealth. + +To KING OF FRANCE + +For you, great king, +I would not from your love make such a stray, +To match you where I hate; therefore beseech you +To avert your liking a more worthier way +Than on a wretch whom nature is ashamed +Almost to acknowledge hers. + +KING OF FRANCE +This is most strange, +That she, that even but now was your best object, +The argument of your praise, balm of your age, +Most best, most dearest, should in this trice of time +Commit a thing so monstrous, to dismantle +So many folds of favour. Sure, her offence +Must be of such unnatural degree, +That monsters it, or your fore-vouch'd affection +Fall'n into taint: which to believe of her, +Must be a faith that reason without miracle +Could never plant in me. + +CORDELIA +I yet beseech your majesty,-- +If for I want that glib and oily art, +To speak and purpose not; since what I well intend, +I'll do't before I speak,--that you make known +It is no vicious blot, murder, or foulness, +No unchaste action, or dishonour'd step, +That hath deprived me of your grace and favour; +But even for want of that for which I am richer, +A still-soliciting eye, and such a tongue +As I am glad I have not, though not to have it +Hath lost me in your liking. + +KING LEAR +Better thou +Hadst not been born than not to have pleased me better. + +KING OF FRANCE +Is it but this,--a tardiness in nature +Which often leaves the history unspoke +That it intends to do? My lord of Burgundy, +What say you to the lady? Love's not love +When it is mingled with regards that stand +Aloof from the entire point. Will you have her? +She is herself a dowry. + +BURGUNDY +Royal Lear, +Give but that portion which yourself proposed, +And here I take Cordelia by the hand, +Duchess of Burgundy. + +KING LEAR +Nothing: I have sworn; I am firm. + +BURGUNDY +I am sorry, then, you have so lost a father +That you must lose a husband. + +CORDELIA +Peace be with Burgundy! +Since that respects of fortune are his love, +I shall not be his wife. + +KING OF FRANCE +Fairest Cordelia, that art most rich, being poor; +Most choice, forsaken; and most loved, despised! +Thee and thy virtues here I seize upon: +Be it lawful I take up what's cast away. +Gods, gods! 'tis strange that from their cold'st neglect +My love should kindle to inflamed respect. +Thy dowerless daughter, king, thrown to my chance, +Is queen of us, of ours, and our fair France: +Not all the dukes of waterish Burgundy +Can buy this unprized precious maid of me. +Bid them farewell, Cordelia, though unkind: +Thou losest here, a better where to find. + +KING LEAR +Thou hast her, France: let her be thine; for we +Have no such daughter, nor shall ever see +That face of hers again. Therefore be gone +Without our grace, our love, our benison. +Come, noble Burgundy. + +Flourish. Exeunt all but KING OF FRANCE, GONERIL, REGAN, and CORDELIA + +KING OF FRANCE +Bid farewell to your sisters. + +CORDELIA +The jewels of our father, with wash'd eyes +Cordelia leaves you: I know you what you are; +And like a sister am most loath to call +Your faults as they are named. Use well our father: +To your professed bosoms I commit him +But yet, alas, stood I within his grace, +I would prefer him to a better place. +So, farewell to you both. + +REGAN +Prescribe not us our duties. + +GONERIL +Let your study +Be to content your lord, who hath received you +At fortune's alms. You have obedience scanted, +And well are worth the want that you have wanted. + +CORDELIA +Time shall unfold what plaited cunning hides: +Who cover faults, at last shame them derides. +Well may you prosper! + +KING OF FRANCE +Come, my fair Cordelia. + +Exeunt KING OF FRANCE and CORDELIA + +GONERIL +Sister, it is not a little I have to say of what +most nearly appertains to us both. I think our +father will hence to-night. + +REGAN +That's most certain, and with you; next month with us. + +GONERIL +You see how full of changes his age is; the +observation we have made of it hath not been +little: he always loved our sister most; and +with what poor judgment he hath now cast her off +appears too grossly. + +REGAN +'Tis the infirmity of his age: yet he hath ever +but slenderly known himself. + +GONERIL +The best and soundest of his time hath been but +rash; then must we look to receive from his age, +not alone the imperfections of long-engraffed +condition, but therewithal the unruly waywardness +that infirm and choleric years bring with them. + +REGAN +Such unconstant starts are we like to have from +him as this of Kent's banishment. + +GONERIL +There is further compliment of leavetaking +between France and him. Pray you, let's hit +together: if our father carry authority with +such dispositions as he bears, this last +surrender of his will but offend us. + +REGAN +We shall further think on't. + +GONERIL +We must do something, and i' the heat. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The Earl of Gloucester's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, with a letter +EDMUND +Thou, nature, art my goddess; to thy law +My services are bound. Wherefore should I +Stand in the plague of custom, and permit +The curiosity of nations to deprive me, +For that I am some twelve or fourteen moon-shines +Lag of a brother? Why bastard? wherefore base? +When my dimensions are as well compact, +My mind as generous, and my shape as true, +As honest madam's issue? Why brand they us +With base? with baseness? bastardy? base, base? +Who, in the lusty stealth of nature, take +More composition and fierce quality +Than doth, within a dull, stale, tired bed, +Go to the creating a whole tribe of fops, +Got 'tween asleep and wake? Well, then, +Legitimate Edgar, I must have your land: +Our father's love is to the bastard Edmund +As to the legitimate: fine word,--legitimate! +Well, my legitimate, if this letter speed, +And my invention thrive, Edmund the base +Shall top the legitimate. I grow; I prosper: +Now, gods, stand up for bastards! + +Enter GLOUCESTER + +GLOUCESTER +Kent banish'd thus! and France in choler parted! +And the king gone to-night! subscribed his power! +Confined to exhibition! All this done +Upon the gad! Edmund, how now! what news? + +EDMUND +So please your lordship, none. + +Putting up the letter + +GLOUCESTER +Why so earnestly seek you to put up that letter? + +EDMUND +I know no news, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +What paper were you reading? + +EDMUND +Nothing, my lord. + +GLOUCESTER +No? What needed, then, that terrible dispatch of +it into your pocket? the quality of nothing hath +not such need to hide itself. Let's see: come, +if it be nothing, I shall not need spectacles. + +EDMUND +I beseech you, sir, pardon me: it is a letter +from my brother, that I have not all o'er-read; +and for so much as I have perused, I find it not +fit for your o'er-looking. + +GLOUCESTER +Give me the letter, sir. + +EDMUND +I shall offend, either to detain or give it. The +contents, as in part I understand them, are to blame. + +GLOUCESTER +Let's see, let's see. + +EDMUND +I hope, for my brother's justification, he wrote +this but as an essay or taste of my virtue. + +GLOUCESTER +[Reads] 'This policy and reverence of age makes +the world bitter to the best of our times; keeps +our fortunes from us till our oldness cannot relish +them. I begin to find an idle and fond bondage +in the oppression of aged tyranny; who sways, not +as it hath power, but as it is suffered. Come to +me, that of this I may speak more. If our father +would sleep till I waked him, you should half his +revenue for ever, and live the beloved of your +brother, EDGAR.' +Hum--conspiracy!--'Sleep till I waked him,--you +should enjoy half his revenue,'--My son Edgar! +Had he a hand to write this? a heart and brain +to breed it in?--When came this to you? who +brought it? + +EDMUND +It was not brought me, my lord; there's the +cunning of it; I found it thrown in at the +casement of my closet. + +GLOUCESTER +You know the character to be your brother's? + +EDMUND +If the matter were good, my lord, I durst swear +it were his; but, in respect of that, I would +fain think it were not. + +GLOUCESTER +It is his. + +EDMUND +It is his hand, my lord; but I hope his heart is +not in the contents. + +GLOUCESTER +Hath he never heretofore sounded you in this business? + +EDMUND +Never, my lord: but I have heard him oft +maintain it to be fit, that, sons at perfect age, +and fathers declining, the father should be as +ward to the son, and the son manage his revenue. + +GLOUCESTER +O villain, villain! His very opinion in the +letter! Abhorred villain! Unnatural, detested, +brutish villain! worse than brutish! Go, sirrah, +seek him; I'll apprehend him: abominable villain! +Where is he? + +EDMUND +I do not well know, my lord. If it shall please +you to suspend your indignation against my +brother till you can derive from him better +testimony of his intent, you shall run a certain +course; where, if you violently proceed against +him, mistaking his purpose, it would make a great +gap in your own honour, and shake in pieces the +heart of his obedience. I dare pawn down my life +for him, that he hath wrote this to feel my +affection to your honour, and to no further +pretence of danger. + +GLOUCESTER +Think you so? + +EDMUND +If your honour judge it meet, I will place you +where you shall hear us confer of this, and by an +auricular assurance have your satisfaction; and +that without any further delay than this very evening. + +GLOUCESTER +He cannot be such a monster-- + +EDMUND +Nor is not, sure. + +GLOUCESTER +To his father, that so tenderly and entirely +loves him. Heaven and earth! Edmund, seek him +out: wind me into him, I pray you: frame the +business after your own wisdom. I would unstate +myself, to be in a due resolution. + +EDMUND +I will seek him, sir, presently: convey the +business as I shall find means and acquaint you withal. + +GLOUCESTER +These late eclipses in the sun and moon portend +no good to us: though the wisdom of nature can +reason it thus and thus, yet nature finds itself +scourged by the sequent effects: love cools, +friendship falls off, brothers divide: in +cities, mutinies; in countries, discord; in +palaces, treason; and the bond cracked 'twixt son +and father. This villain of mine comes under the +prediction; there's son against father: the king +falls from bias of nature; there's father against +child. We have seen the best of our time: +machinations, hollowness, treachery, and all +ruinous disorders, follow us disquietly to our +graves. Find out this villain, Edmund; it shall +lose thee nothing; do it carefully. And the +noble and true-hearted Kent banished! his +offence, honesty! 'Tis strange. + +Exit + +EDMUND +This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, +when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit +of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our +disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as +if we were villains by necessity; fools by +heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and +treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, +liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of +planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, +by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion +of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish +disposition to the charge of a star! My +father compounded with my mother under the +dragon's tail; and my nativity was under Ursa +major; so that it follows, I am rough and +lecherous. Tut, I should have been that I am, +had the maidenliest star in the firmament +twinkled on my bastardizing. Edgar-- + +Enter EDGAR + +And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old +comedy: my cue is villanous melancholy, with a +sigh like Tom o' Bedlam. O, these eclipses do +portend these divisions! fa, sol, la, mi. + +EDGAR +How now, brother Edmund! what serious +contemplation are you in? + +EDMUND +I am thinking, brother, of a prediction I read +this other day, what should follow these eclipses. + +EDGAR +Do you busy yourself about that? + +EDMUND +I promise you, the effects he writes of succeed +unhappily; as of unnaturalness between the child +and the parent; death, dearth, dissolutions of +ancient amities; divisions in state, menaces and +maledictions against king and nobles; needless +diffidences, banishment of friends, dissipation +of cohorts, nuptial breaches, and I know not what. + +EDGAR +How long have you been a sectary astronomical? + +EDMUND +Come, come; when saw you my father last? + +EDGAR +Why, the night gone by. + +EDMUND +Spake you with him? + +EDGAR +Ay, two hours together. + +EDMUND +Parted you in good terms? Found you no +displeasure in him by word or countenance? + +EDGAR +None at all. + +EDMUND +Bethink yourself wherein you may have offended +him: and at my entreaty forbear his presence +till some little time hath qualified the heat of +his displeasure; which at this instant so rageth +in him, that with the mischief of your person it +would scarcely allay. + +EDGAR +Some villain hath done me wrong. + +EDMUND +That's my fear. I pray you, have a continent +forbearance till the spied of his rage goes +slower; and, as I say, retire with me to my +lodging, from whence I will fitly bring you to +hear my lord speak: pray ye, go; there's my key: +if you do stir abroad, go armed. + +EDGAR +Armed, brother! + +EDMUND +Brother, I advise you to the best; go armed: I +am no honest man if there be any good meaning +towards you: I have told you what I have seen +and heard; but faintly, nothing like the image +and horror of it: pray you, away. + +EDGAR +Shall I hear from you anon? + +EDMUND +I do serve you in this business. + +Exit EDGAR + +A credulous father! and a brother noble, +Whose nature is so far from doing harms, +That he suspects none: on whose foolish honesty +My practises ride easy! I see the business. +Let me, if not by birth, have lands by wit: +All with me's meet that I can fashion fit. + +Exit + +SCENE III. The Duke of Albany's palace. + +Enter GONERIL, and OSWALD, her steward +GONERIL +Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +By day and night he wrongs me; every hour +He flashes into one gross crime or other, +That sets us all at odds: I'll not endure it: +His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us +On every trifle. When he returns from hunting, +I will not speak with him; say I am sick: +If you come slack of former services, +You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer. + +OSWALD +He's coming, madam; I hear him. + +Horns within + +GONERIL +Put on what weary negligence you please, +You and your fellows; I'll have it come to question: +If he dislike it, let him to our sister, +Whose mind and mine, I know, in that are one, +Not to be over-ruled. Idle old man, +That still would manage those authorities +That he hath given away! Now, by my life, +Old fools are babes again; and must be used +With cheques as flatteries,--when they are seen abused. +Remember what I tell you. + +OSWALD +Well, madam. + +GONERIL +And let his knights have colder looks among you; +What grows of it, no matter; advise your fellows so: +I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall, +That I may speak: I'll write straight to my sister, +To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. A hall in the same. + +Enter KENT, disguised +KENT +If but as well I other accents borrow, +That can my speech defuse, my good intent +May carry through itself to that full issue +For which I razed my likeness. Now, banish'd Kent, +If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemn'd, +So may it come, thy master, whom thou lovest, +Shall find thee full of labours. + +Horns within. Enter KING LEAR, Knights, and Attendants + +KING LEAR +Let me not stay a jot for dinner; go get it ready. + +Exit an Attendant + +How now! what art thou? + +KENT +A man, sir. + +KING LEAR +What dost thou profess? what wouldst thou with us? + +KENT +I do profess to be no less than I seem; to serve +him truly that will put me in trust: to love him +that is honest; to converse with him that is wise, +and says little; to fear judgment; to fight when I +cannot choose; and to eat no fish. + +KING LEAR +What art thou? + +KENT +A very honest-hearted fellow, and as poor as the king. + +KING LEAR +If thou be as poor for a subject as he is for a +king, thou art poor enough. What wouldst thou? + +KENT +Service. + +KING LEAR +Who wouldst thou serve? + +KENT +You. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou know me, fellow? + +KENT +No, sir; but you have that in your countenance +which I would fain call master. + +KING LEAR +What's that? + +KENT +Authority. + +KING LEAR +What services canst thou do? + +KENT +I can keep honest counsel, ride, run, mar a curious +tale in telling it, and deliver a plain message +bluntly: that which ordinary men are fit for, I am +qualified in; and the best of me is diligence. + +KING LEAR +How old art thou? + +KENT +Not so young, sir, to love a woman for singing, nor +so old to dote on her for any thing: I have years +on my back forty eight. + +KING LEAR +Follow me; thou shalt serve me: if I like thee no +worse after dinner, I will not part from thee yet. +Dinner, ho, dinner! Where's my knave? my fool? +Go you, and call my fool hither. + +Exit an Attendant + +Enter OSWALD + +You, you, sirrah, where's my daughter? + +OSWALD +So please you,-- + +Exit + +KING LEAR +What says the fellow there? Call the clotpoll back. + +Exit a Knight + +Where's my fool, ho? I think the world's asleep. + +Re-enter Knight + +How now! where's that mongrel? + +Knight +He says, my lord, your daughter is not well. + +KING LEAR +Why came not the slave back to me when I called him. + +Knight +Sir, he answered me in the roundest manner, he would +not. + +KING LEAR +He would not! + +Knight +My lord, I know not what the matter is; but, to my +judgment, your highness is not entertained with that +ceremonious affection as you were wont; there's a +great abatement of kindness appears as well in the +general dependants as in the duke himself also and +your daughter. + +KING LEAR +Ha! sayest thou so? + +Knight +I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, if I be mistaken; +for my duty cannot be silent when I think your +highness wronged. + +KING LEAR +Thou but rememberest me of mine own conception: I +have perceived a most faint neglect of late; which I +have rather blamed as mine own jealous curiosity +than as a very pretence and purpose of unkindness: +I will look further into't. But where's my fool? I +have not seen him this two days. + +Knight +Since my young lady's going into France, sir, the +fool hath much pined away. + +KING LEAR +No more of that; I have noted it well. Go you, and +tell my daughter I would speak with her. + +Exit an Attendant + +Go you, call hither my fool. + +Exit an Attendant + +Re-enter OSWALD + +O, you sir, you, come you hither, sir: who am I, +sir? + +OSWALD +My lady's father. + +KING LEAR +'My lady's father'! my lord's knave: your +whoreson dog! you slave! you cur! + +OSWALD +I am none of these, my lord; I beseech your pardon. + +KING LEAR +Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal? + +Striking him + +OSWALD +I'll not be struck, my lord. + +KENT +Nor tripped neither, you base football player. + +Tripping up his heels + +KING LEAR +I thank thee, fellow; thou servest me, and I'll +love thee. + +KENT +Come, sir, arise, away! I'll teach you differences: +away, away! if you will measure your lubber's +length again, tarry: but away! go to; have you +wisdom? so. + +Pushes OSWALD out + +KING LEAR +Now, my friendly knave, I thank thee: there's +earnest of thy service. + +Giving KENT money + +Enter Fool + +Fool +Let me hire him too: here's my coxcomb. + +Offering KENT his cap + +KING LEAR +How now, my pretty knave! how dost thou? + +Fool +Sirrah, you were best take my coxcomb. + +KENT +Why, fool? + +Fool +Why, for taking one's part that's out of favour: +nay, an thou canst not smile as the wind sits, +thou'lt catch cold shortly: there, take my coxcomb: +why, this fellow has banished two on's daughters, +and did the third a blessing against his will; if +thou follow him, thou must needs wear my coxcomb. +How now, nuncle! Would I had two coxcombs and two daughters! + +KING LEAR +Why, my boy? + +Fool +If I gave them all my living, I'ld keep my coxcombs +myself. There's mine; beg another of thy daughters. + +KING LEAR +Take heed, sirrah; the whip. + +Fool +Truth's a dog must to kennel; he must be whipped +out, when Lady the brach may stand by the fire and stink. + +KING LEAR +A pestilent gall to me! + +Fool +Sirrah, I'll teach thee a speech. + +KING LEAR +Do. + +Fool +Mark it, nuncle: +Have more than thou showest, +Speak less than thou knowest, +Lend less than thou owest, +Ride more than thou goest, +Learn more than thou trowest, +Set less than thou throwest; +Leave thy drink and thy whore, +And keep in-a-door, +And thou shalt have more +Than two tens to a score. + +KENT +This is nothing, fool. + +Fool +Then 'tis like the breath of an unfee'd lawyer; you +gave me nothing for't. Can you make no use of +nothing, nuncle? + +KING LEAR +Why, no, boy; nothing can be made out of nothing. + +Fool +[To KENT] Prithee, tell him, so much the rent of +his land comes to: he will not believe a fool. + +KING LEAR +A bitter fool! + +Fool +Dost thou know the difference, my boy, between a +bitter fool and a sweet fool? + +KING LEAR +No, lad; teach me. + +Fool +That lord that counsell'd thee +To give away thy land, +Come place him here by me, +Do thou for him stand: +The sweet and bitter fool +Will presently appear; +The one in motley here, +The other found out there. + +KING LEAR +Dost thou call me fool, boy? + +Fool +All thy other titles thou hast given away; that +thou wast born with. + +KENT +This is not altogether fool, my lord. + +Fool +No, faith, lords and great men will not let me; if +I had a monopoly out, they would have part on't: +and ladies too, they will not let me have all fool +to myself; they'll be snatching. Give me an egg, +nuncle, and I'll give thee two crowns. + +KING LEAR +What two crowns shall they be? + +Fool +Why, after I have cut the egg i' the middle, and eat +up the meat, the two crowns of the egg. When thou +clovest thy crown i' the middle, and gavest away +both parts, thou borest thy ass on thy back o'er +the dirt: thou hadst little wit in thy bald crown, +when thou gavest thy golden one away. If I speak +like myself in this, let him be whipped that first +finds it so. + +Singing + +Fools had ne'er less wit in a year; +For wise men are grown foppish, +They know not how their wits to wear, +Their manners are so apish. + +KING LEAR +When were you wont to be so full of songs, sirrah? + +Fool +I have used it, nuncle, ever since thou madest thy +daughters thy mothers: for when thou gavest them +the rod, and put'st down thine own breeches, + +Singing + +Then they for sudden joy did weep, +And I for sorrow sung, +That such a king should play bo-peep, +And go the fools among. +Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach +thy fool to lie: I would fain learn to lie. + +KING LEAR +An you lie, sirrah, we'll have you whipped. + +Fool +I marvel what kin thou and thy daughters are: +they'll have me whipped for speaking true, thou'lt +have me whipped for lying; and sometimes I am +whipped for holding my peace. I had rather be any +kind o' thing than a fool: and yet I would not be +thee, nuncle; thou hast pared thy wit o' both sides, +and left nothing i' the middle: here comes one o' +the parings. + +Enter GONERIL + +KING LEAR +How now, daughter! what makes that frontlet on? +Methinks you are too much of late i' the frown. + +Fool +Thou wast a pretty fellow when thou hadst no need to +care for her frowning; now thou art an O without a +figure: I am better than thou art now; I am a fool, +thou art nothing. + +To GONERIL + +Yes, forsooth, I will hold my tongue; so your face +bids me, though you say nothing. Mum, mum, +He that keeps nor crust nor crum, +Weary of all, shall want some. + +Pointing to KING LEAR + +That's a shealed peascod. + +GONERIL +Not only, sir, this your all-licensed fool, +But other of your insolent retinue +Do hourly carp and quarrel; breaking forth +In rank and not-to-be endured riots. Sir, +I had thought, by making this well known unto you, +To have found a safe redress; but now grow fearful, +By what yourself too late have spoke and done. +That you protect this course, and put it on +By your allowance; which if you should, the fault +Would not 'scape censure, nor the redresses sleep, +Which, in the tender of a wholesome weal, +Might in their working do you that offence, +Which else were shame, that then necessity +Will call discreet proceeding. + +Fool +For, you trow, nuncle, +The hedge-sparrow fed the cuckoo so long, +That it's had it head bit off by it young. +So, out went the candle, and we were left darkling. + +KING LEAR +Are you our daughter? + +GONERIL +Come, sir, +I would you would make use of that good wisdom, +Whereof I know you are fraught; and put away +These dispositions, that of late transform you +From what you rightly are. + +Fool +May not an ass know when the cart +draws the horse? Whoop, Jug! I love thee. + +KING LEAR +Doth any here know me? This is not Lear: +Doth Lear walk thus? speak thus? Where are his eyes? +Either his notion weakens, his discernings +Are lethargied--Ha! waking? 'tis not so. +Who is it that can tell me who I am? + +Fool +Lear's shadow. + +KING LEAR +I would learn that; for, by the +marks of sovereignty, knowledge, and reason, +I should be false persuaded I had daughters. + +Fool +Which they will make an obedient father. + +KING LEAR +Your name, fair gentlewoman? + +GONERIL +This admiration, sir, is much o' the savour +Of other your new pranks. I do beseech you +To understand my purposes aright: +As you are old and reverend, you should be wise. +Here do you keep a hundred knights and squires; +Men so disorder'd, so debosh'd and bold, +That this our court, infected with their manners, +Shows like a riotous inn: epicurism and lust +Make it more like a tavern or a brothel +Than a graced palace. The shame itself doth speak +For instant remedy: be then desired +By her, that else will take the thing she begs, +A little to disquantity your train; +And the remainder, that shall still depend, +To be such men as may besort your age, +And know themselves and you. + +KING LEAR +Darkness and devils! +Saddle my horses; call my train together: +Degenerate bastard! I'll not trouble thee. +Yet have I left a daughter. + +GONERIL +You strike my people; and your disorder'd rabble +Make servants of their betters. + +Enter ALBANY + +KING LEAR +Woe, that too late repents,-- + +To ALBANY + +O, sir, are you come? +Is it your will? Speak, sir. Prepare my horses. +Ingratitude, thou marble-hearted fiend, +More hideous when thou show'st thee in a child +Than the sea-monster! + +ALBANY +Pray, sir, be patient. + +KING LEAR +[To GONERIL] Detested kite! thou liest. +My train are men of choice and rarest parts, +That all particulars of duty know, +And in the most exact regard support +The worships of their name. O most small fault, +How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show! +That, like an engine, wrench'd my frame of nature +From the fix'd place; drew from heart all love, +And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! +Beat at this gate, that let thy folly in, + +Striking his head + +And thy dear judgment out! Go, go, my people. + +ALBANY +My lord, I am guiltless, as I am ignorant +Of what hath moved you. + +KING LEAR +It may be so, my lord. +Hear, nature, hear; dear goddess, hear! +Suspend thy purpose, if thou didst intend +To make this creature fruitful! +Into her womb convey sterility! +Dry up in her the organs of increase; +And from her derogate body never spring +A babe to honour her! If she must teem, +Create her child of spleen; that it may live, +And be a thwart disnatured torment to her! +Let it stamp wrinkles in her brow of youth; +With cadent tears fret channels in her cheeks; +Turn all her mother's pains and benefits +To laughter and contempt; that she may feel +How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is +To have a thankless child! Away, away! + +Exit + +ALBANY +Now, gods that we adore, whereof comes this? + +GONERIL +Never afflict yourself to know the cause; +But let his disposition have that scope +That dotage gives it. + +Re-enter KING LEAR + +KING LEAR +What, fifty of my followers at a clap! +Within a fortnight! + +ALBANY +What's the matter, sir? + +KING LEAR +I'll tell thee: + +To GONERIL + +Life and death! I am ashamed +That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus; +That these hot tears, which break from me perforce, +Should make thee worth them. Blasts and fogs upon thee! +The untented woundings of a father's curse +Pierce every sense about thee! Old fond eyes, +Beweep this cause again, I'll pluck ye out, +And cast you, with the waters that you lose, +To temper clay. Yea, it is come to this? +Let is be so: yet have I left a daughter, +Who, I am sure, is kind and comfortable: +When she shall hear this of thee, with her nails +She'll flay thy wolvish visage. Thou shalt find +That I'll resume the shape which thou dost think +I have cast off for ever: thou shalt, +I warrant thee. + +Exeunt KING LEAR, KENT, and Attendants + +GONERIL +Do you mark that, my lord? + +ALBANY +I cannot be so partial, Goneril, +To the great love I bear you,-- + +GONERIL +Pray you, content. What, Oswald, ho! + +To the Fool + +You, sir, more knave than fool, after your master. + +Fool +Nuncle Lear, nuncle Lear, tarry and take the fool +with thee. +A fox, when one has caught her, +And such a daughter, +Should sure to the slaughter, +If my cap would buy a halter: +So the fool follows after. + +Exit + +GONERIL +This man hath had good counsel:--a hundred knights! +'Tis politic and safe to let him keep +At point a hundred knights: yes, that, on every dream, +Each buzz, each fancy, each complaint, dislike, +He may enguard his dotage with their powers, +And hold our lives in mercy. Oswald, I say! + +ALBANY +Well, you may fear too far. + +GONERIL +Safer than trust too far: +Let me still take away the harms I fear, +Not fear still to be taken: I know his heart. +What he hath utter'd I have writ my sister +If she sustain him and his hundred knights +When I have show'd the unfitness,-- + +Re-enter OSWALD + +How now, Oswald! +What, have you writ that letter to my sister? + +OSWALD +Yes, madam. + +GONERIL +Take you some company, and away to horse: +Inform her full of my particular fear; +And thereto add such reasons of your own +As may compact it more. Get you gone; +And hasten your return. + +Exit OSWALD + +No, no, my lord, +This milky gentleness and course of yours +Though I condemn not, yet, under pardon, +You are much more attask'd for want of wisdom +Than praised for harmful mildness. + +ALBANY +How far your eyes may pierce I can not tell: +Striving to better, oft we mar what's well. + +GONERIL +Nay, then-- + +ALBANY +Well, well; the event. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. Court before the same. + +Enter KING LEAR, KENT, and Fool +KING LEAR +Go you before to Gloucester with these letters. +Acquaint my daughter no further with any thing you +know than comes from her demand out of the letter. +If your diligence be not speedy, I shall be there afore you. + +KENT +I will not sleep, my lord, till I have delivered +your letter. + +Exit + +Fool +If a man's brains were in's heels, were't not in +danger of kibes? + +KING LEAR +Ay, boy. + +Fool +Then, I prithee, be merry; thy wit shall ne'er go +slip-shod. + +KING LEAR +Ha, ha, ha! + +Fool +Shalt see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; +for though she's as like this as a crab's like an +apple, yet I can tell what I can tell. + +KING LEAR +Why, what canst thou tell, my boy? + +Fool +She will taste as like this as a crab does to a +crab. Thou canst tell why one's nose stands i' +the middle on's face? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Why, to keep one's eyes of either side's nose; that +what a man cannot smell out, he may spy into. + +KING LEAR +I did her wrong-- + +Fool +Canst tell how an oyster makes his shell? + +KING LEAR +No. + +Fool +Nor I neither; but I can tell why a snail has a house. + +KING LEAR +Why? + +Fool +Why, to put his head in; not to give it away to his +daughters, and leave his horns without a case. + +KING LEAR +I will forget my nature. So kind a father! Be my +horses ready? + +Fool +Thy asses are gone about 'em. The reason why the +seven stars are no more than seven is a pretty reason. + +KING LEAR +Because they are not eight? + +Fool +Yes, indeed: thou wouldst make a good fool. + +KING LEAR +To take 't again perforce! Monster ingratitude! + +Fool +If thou wert my fool, nuncle, I'ld have thee beaten +for being old before thy time. + +KING LEAR +How's that? + +Fool +Thou shouldst not have been old till thou hadst +been wise. + +KING LEAR +O, let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven +Keep me in temper: I would not be mad! + +Enter Gentleman + +How now! are the horses ready? + +Gentleman +Ready, my lord. + +KING LEAR +Come, boy. + +Fool +She that's a maid now, and laughs at my departure, +Shall not be a maid long, unless things be cut shorter. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. GLOUCESTER's castle. + +Enter EDMUND, and CURAN meets him +EDMUND +Save thee, Curan. + +CURAN +And you, sir. I have been with your father, and +given him notice that the Duke of Cornwall and Regan +his duchess will be here with him this night. + +EDMUND +How comes that? + +CURAN +Nay, I know not. You have heard of the news abroad; +I mean the whispered ones, for they are yet but +ear-kissing arguments? + +EDMUND +Not I pray you, what are they? + +CURAN +Have you heard of no likely wars toward, 'twixt the +Dukes of Cornwall and Albany? + +EDMUND +Not a word. + +CURAN +You may do, then, in time. Fare you well, sir. + +Exit + +EDMUND +The duke be here to-night? The better! best! +This weaves itself perforce into my business. +My father hath set guard to take my brother; +And I have one thing, of a queasy question, +Which I must act: briefness and fortune, work! +Brother, a word; descend: brother, I say! + +Enter EDGAR + +My father watches: O sir, fly this place; +Intelligence is given where you are hid; +You have now the good advantage of the night: +Have you not spoken 'gainst the Duke of Cornwall? +He's coming hither: now, i' the night, i' the haste, +And Regan with him: have you nothing said +Upon his party 'gainst the Duke of Albany? +Advise yourself. + +EDGAR +I am sure on't, not a word. + +EDMUND +I hear my father coming: pardon me: +In cunning I must draw my sword upon you +Draw; seem to defend yourself; now quit you well. +Yield: come before my father. Light, ho, here! +Fly, brother. Torches, torches! So, farewell. + +Exit EDGAR + +Some blood drawn on me would beget opinion. + +Wounds his arm + +Of my more fierce endeavour: I have seen drunkards +Do more than this in sport. Father, father! +Stop, stop! No help? + +Enter GLOUCESTER, and Servants with torches + +GLOUCESTER +Now, Edmund, where's the villain? + +EDMUND +Here stood he in the dark, his sharp sword out, +Mumbling of wicked charms, conjuring the moon +To stand auspicious mistress,-- + +GLOUCESTER +But where is he? + +EDMUND +Look, sir, I bleed. + +GLOUCESTER +Where is the villain, Edmund? + +EDMUND +Fled this way, sir. When by no means he could-- + +GLOUCESTER +Pursue him, ho! Go after. + +Exeunt some Servants + +By no means what? + +EDMUND +Persuade me to the murder of your lordship; +But that I told him, the revenging gods +'Gainst parricides did all their thunders bend; +Spoke, with how manifold and strong a bond +The child was bound to the father; sir, in fine, +Seeing how loathly opposite I stood +To his unnatural purpose, in fell motion, +With his prepared sword, he charges home +My unprovided body, lanced mine arm: +But when he saw my best alarum'd spirits, +Bold in the quarrel's right, roused to the encounter, +Or whether gasted by the noise I made, +Full suddenly he fled. + +GLOUCESTER +Let him fly far: +Not in this land shall he remain uncaught; +And found--dispatch. The noble duke my master, +My worthy arch and patron, comes to-night: +By his authority I will proclaim it, +That he which finds him shall deserve our thanks, +Bringing the murderous coward to the stake; +He that conceals him, death. + +EDMUND +When I dissuaded him from his intent, +And found him pight to do it, with curst speech +I threaten'd to discover him: he replied, +'Thou unpossessing bastard! dost thou think, +If I would stand against thee, would the reposal +Of any trust, virtue, or worth in thee +Make thy words faith'd? No: what I should deny,-- +As this I would: ay, though thou didst produce +My very character,--I'ld turn it all +To thy suggestion, plot, and damned practise: +And thou must make a dullard of the world, +If they not thought the profits of my death +Were very pregnant and potential spurs +To make thee seek it.' + +GLOUCESTER +Strong and fasten'd villain +Would he deny his letter? I never got him. + +Tucket within + +Hark, the duke's trumpets! I know not why he comes. +All ports I'll bar; the villain shall not 'scape; +The duke must grant me that: besides, his picture +I will send far and near, that all the kingdom +May have the due note of him; and of my land, +Loyal and natural boy, I'll work the means +To make thee capable. + +Enter CORNWALL, REGAN, and Attendants + +CORNWALL +How now, my noble friend! since I came hither, +Which I can call but now, I have heard strange news. + +REGAN +If it be true, all vengeance comes too short +Which can pursue the offender. How dost, my lord? + +GLOUCESTER +O, madam, my old heart is crack'd, it's crack'd! + +REGAN +What, did my father's godson seek your life? +He whom my father named? your Edgar? + +GLOUCESTER +O, lady, lady, shame would have it hid! + +REGAN +Was he not companion with the riotous knights +That tend upon my father? + +GLOUCESTER +I know not, madam: 'tis too bad, too bad. + +EDMUND +Yes, madam, he was of that consort. + +REGAN +No marvel, then, though he were ill affected: +'Tis they have put him on the old man's death, +To have the expense and waste of his revenues. +I have this present evening from my sister +Been well inform'd of them; and with such cautions, +That if they come to sojourn at my house, +I'll not be there. + +CORNWALL +Nor I, assure thee, Regan. +Edmund, I hear that you have shown your father +A child-like office. + +EDMUND +'Twas my duty, sir. + +GLOUCESTER +He did bewray his practise; and received +This hurt you see, striving to apprehend him. + +CORNWALL +Is he pursued? + +GLOUCESTER +Ay, my good lord. + +CORNWALL +If he be taken, he shall never more +Be fear'd of doing harm: make your own purpose, +How in my strength you please. For you, Edmund, +Whose virtue and obedience doth this instant +So much commend itself, you shall be ours: +Natures of such deep trust we shall much need; +You we first seize on. + +EDMUND +I shall serve you, sir, +Truly, however else. + +GLOUCESTER +For him I thank your grace. + +CORNWALL +You know not why we came to visit you,-- + +REGAN +Thus out of season, threading dark-eyed night: +Occasions, noble Gloucester, of some poise, +Wherein we must have use of your advice: +Our father he hath writ, so hath our sister, +Of differences, which I least thought it fit +To answer from our home; the several messengers +From hence attend dispatch. Our good old friend, +Lay comforts to your bosom; and bestow +Your needful counsel to our business, +Which craves the instant use. + +GLOUCESTER +I serve you, madam: +Your graces are right welcome. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Before Gloucester's castle. + +Enter KENT and OSWALD, severally +OSWALD +Good dawning to thee, friend: art of this house? + +KENT +Ay. + +OSWALD +Where may we set our horses? + +KENT +I' the mire. + +OSWALD +Prithee, if thou lovest me, tell me. + +KENT +I love thee not. + +OSWALD +Why, then, I care not for thee. + +KENT +If I had thee in Lipsbury pinfold, I would make thee +care for me. + +OSWALD +Why dost thou use me thus? I know thee not. + +KENT +Fellow, I know thee. + +OSWALD +What dost thou know me for? + +KENT +A knave; a rascal; an eater of broken meats; a +base, proud, shallow, beggarly, three-suited, +hundred-pound, filthy, worsted-stocking knave; a +lily-livered, action-taking knave, a whoreson, +glass-gazing, super-serviceable finical rogue; +one-trunk-inheriting slave; one that wouldst be a +bawd, in way of good service, and art nothing but +the composition of a knave, beggar, coward, pandar, +and the son and heir of a mongrel bitch: one whom I +will beat into clamorous whining, if thou deniest +the least syllable of thy addition. + +The Tragedy of Macbeth +Shakespeare homepage | Macbeth | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. A desert place. + +Thunder and lightning. Enter three Witches +First Witch +When shall we three meet again +In thunder, lightning, or in rain? + +Second Witch +When the hurlyburly's done, +When the battle's lost and won. + +Third Witch +That will be ere the set of sun. + +First Witch +Where the place? + +Second Witch +Upon the heath. + +Third Witch +There to meet with Macbeth. + +First Witch +I come, Graymalkin! + +Second Witch +Paddock calls. + +Third Witch +Anon. + +ALL +Fair is foul, and foul is fair: +Hover through the fog and filthy air. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A camp near Forres. + +Alarum within. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, with Attendants, meeting a bleeding Sergeant +DUNCAN +What bloody man is that? He can report, +As seemeth by his plight, of the revolt +The newest state. + +MALCOLM +This is the sergeant +Who like a good and hardy soldier fought +'Gainst my captivity. Hail, brave friend! +Say to the king the knowledge of the broil +As thou didst leave it. + +Sergeant +Doubtful it stood; +As two spent swimmers, that do cling together +And choke their art. The merciless Macdonwald-- +Worthy to be a rebel, for to that +The multiplying villanies of nature +Do swarm upon him--from the western isles +Of kerns and gallowglasses is supplied; +And fortune, on his damned quarrel smiling, +Show'd like a rebel's whore: but all's too weak: +For brave Macbeth--well he deserves that name-- +Disdaining fortune, with his brandish'd steel, +Which smoked with bloody execution, +Like valour's minion carved out his passage +Till he faced the slave; +Which ne'er shook hands, nor bade farewell to him, +Till he unseam'd him from the nave to the chaps, +And fix'd his head upon our battlements. + +DUNCAN +O valiant cousin! worthy gentleman! + +Sergeant +As whence the sun 'gins his reflection +Shipwrecking storms and direful thunders break, +So from that spring whence comfort seem'd to come +Discomfort swells. Mark, king of Scotland, mark: +No sooner justice had with valour arm'd +Compell'd these skipping kerns to trust their heels, +But the Norweyan lord surveying vantage, +With furbish'd arms and new supplies of men +Began a fresh assault. + +DUNCAN +Dismay'd not this +Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? + +Sergeant +Yes; +As sparrows eagles, or the hare the lion. +If I say sooth, I must report they were +As cannons overcharged with double cracks, so they +Doubly redoubled strokes upon the foe: +Except they meant to bathe in reeking wounds, +Or memorise another Golgotha, +I cannot tell. +But I am faint, my gashes cry for help. + +DUNCAN +So well thy words become thee as thy wounds; +They smack of honour both. Go get him surgeons. + +Exit Sergeant, attended + +Who comes here? + +Enter ROSS + +MALCOLM +The worthy thane of Ross. + +LENNOX +What a haste looks through his eyes! So should he look +That seems to speak things strange. + +ROSS +God save the king! + +DUNCAN +Whence camest thou, worthy thane? + +ROSS +From Fife, great king; +Where the Norweyan banners flout the sky +And fan our people cold. Norway himself, +With terrible numbers, +Assisted by that most disloyal traitor +The thane of Cawdor, began a dismal conflict; +Till that Bellona's bridegroom, lapp'd in proof, +Confronted him with self-comparisons, +Point against point rebellious, arm 'gainst arm. +Curbing his lavish spirit: and, to conclude, +The victory fell on us. + +DUNCAN +Great happiness! + +ROSS +That now +Sweno, the Norways' king, craves composition: +Nor would we deign him burial of his men +Till he disbursed at Saint Colme's inch +Ten thousand dollars to our general use. + +DUNCAN +No more that thane of Cawdor shall deceive +Our bosom interest: go pronounce his present death, +And with his former title greet Macbeth. + +ROSS +I'll see it done. + +DUNCAN +What he hath lost noble Macbeth hath won. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A heath near Forres. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Where hast thou been, sister? + +Second Witch +Killing swine. + +Third Witch +Sister, where thou? + +First Witch +A sailor's wife had chestnuts in her lap, +And munch'd, and munch'd, and munch'd:-- +'Give me,' quoth I: +'Aroint thee, witch!' the rump-fed ronyon cries. +Her husband's to Aleppo gone, master o' the Tiger: +But in a sieve I'll thither sail, +And, like a rat without a tail, +I'll do, I'll do, and I'll do. + +Second Witch +I'll give thee a wind. + +First Witch +Thou'rt kind. + +Third Witch +And I another. + +First Witch +I myself have all the other, +And the very ports they blow, +All the quarters that they know +I' the shipman's card. +I will drain him dry as hay: +Sleep shall neither night nor day +Hang upon his pent-house lid; +He shall live a man forbid: +Weary se'nnights nine times nine +Shall he dwindle, peak and pine: +Though his bark cannot be lost, +Yet it shall be tempest-tost. +Look what I have. + +Second Witch +Show me, show me. + +First Witch +Here I have a pilot's thumb, +Wreck'd as homeward he did come. + +Drum within + +Third Witch +A drum, a drum! +Macbeth doth come. + +ALL +The weird sisters, hand in hand, +Posters of the sea and land, +Thus do go about, about: +Thrice to thine and thrice to mine +And thrice again, to make up nine. +Peace! the charm's wound up. + +Enter MACBETH and BANQUO + +MACBETH +So foul and fair a day I have not seen. + +BANQUO +How far is't call'd to Forres? What are these +So wither'd and so wild in their attire, +That look not like the inhabitants o' the earth, +And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught +That man may question? You seem to understand me, +By each at once her chappy finger laying +Upon her skinny lips: you should be women, +And yet your beards forbid me to interpret +That you are so. + +MACBETH +Speak, if you can: what are you? + +First Witch +All hail, Macbeth! hail to thee, thane of Glamis! + +Second Witch +All hail, Macbeth, hail to thee, thane of Cawdor! + +Third Witch +All hail, Macbeth, thou shalt be king hereafter! + +BANQUO +Good sir, why do you start; and seem to fear +Things that do sound so fair? I' the name of truth, +Are ye fantastical, or that indeed +Which outwardly ye show? My noble partner +You greet with present grace and great prediction +Of noble having and of royal hope, +That he seems rapt withal: to me you speak not. +If you can look into the seeds of time, +And say which grain will grow and which will not, +Speak then to me, who neither beg nor fear +Your favours nor your hate. + +First Witch +Hail! + +Second Witch +Hail! + +Third Witch +Hail! + +First Witch +Lesser than Macbeth, and greater. + +Second Witch +Not so happy, yet much happier. + +Third Witch +Thou shalt get kings, though thou be none: +So all hail, Macbeth and Banquo! + +First Witch +Banquo and Macbeth, all hail! + +MACBETH +Stay, you imperfect speakers, tell me more: +By Sinel's death I know I am thane of Glamis; +But how of Cawdor? the thane of Cawdor lives, +A prosperous gentleman; and to be king +Stands not within the prospect of belief, +No more than to be Cawdor. Say from whence +You owe this strange intelligence? or why +Upon this blasted heath you stop our way +With such prophetic greeting? Speak, I charge you. + +Witches vanish + +BANQUO +The earth hath bubbles, as the water has, +And these are of them. Whither are they vanish'd? + +MACBETH +Into the air; and what seem'd corporal melted +As breath into the wind. Would they had stay'd! + +BANQUO +Were such things here as we do speak about? +Or have we eaten on the insane root +That takes the reason prisoner? + +MACBETH +Your children shall be kings. + +BANQUO +You shall be king. + +MACBETH +And thane of Cawdor too: went it not so? + +BANQUO +To the selfsame tune and words. Who's here? + +Enter ROSS and ANGUS + +ROSS +The king hath happily received, Macbeth, +The news of thy success; and when he reads +Thy personal venture in the rebels' fight, +His wonders and his praises do contend +Which should be thine or his: silenced with that, +In viewing o'er the rest o' the selfsame day, +He finds thee in the stout Norweyan ranks, +Nothing afeard of what thyself didst make, +Strange images of death. As thick as hail +Came post with post; and every one did bear +Thy praises in his kingdom's great defence, +And pour'd them down before him. + +ANGUS +We are sent +To give thee from our royal master thanks; +Only to herald thee into his sight, +Not pay thee. + +ROSS +And, for an earnest of a greater honour, +He bade me, from him, call thee thane of Cawdor: +In which addition, hail, most worthy thane! +For it is thine. + +BANQUO +What, can the devil speak true? + +MACBETH +The thane of Cawdor lives: why do you dress me +In borrow'd robes? + +ANGUS +Who was the thane lives yet; +But under heavy judgment bears that life +Which he deserves to lose. Whether he was combined +With those of Norway, or did line the rebel +With hidden help and vantage, or that with both +He labour'd in his country's wreck, I know not; +But treasons capital, confess'd and proved, +Have overthrown him. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Glamis, and thane of Cawdor! +The greatest is behind. + +To ROSS and ANGUS + +Thanks for your pains. + +To BANQUO + +Do you not hope your children shall be kings, +When those that gave the thane of Cawdor to me +Promised no less to them? + +BANQUO +That trusted home +Might yet enkindle you unto the crown, +Besides the thane of Cawdor. But 'tis strange: +And oftentimes, to win us to our harm, +The instruments of darkness tell us truths, +Win us with honest trifles, to betray's +In deepest consequence. +Cousins, a word, I pray you. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Two truths are told, +As happy prologues to the swelling act +Of the imperial theme.--I thank you, gentlemen. + +Aside + +Cannot be ill, cannot be good: if ill, +Why hath it given me earnest of success, +Commencing in a truth? I am thane of Cawdor: +If good, why do I yield to that suggestion +Whose horrid image doth unfix my hair +And make my seated heart knock at my ribs, +Against the use of nature? Present fears +Are less than horrible imaginings: +My thought, whose murder yet is but fantastical, +Shakes so my single state of man that function +Is smother'd in surmise, and nothing is +But what is not. + +BANQUO +Look, how our partner's rapt. + +MACBETH +[Aside] If chance will have me king, why, chance may crown me, +Without my stir. + +BANQUO +New horrors come upon him, +Like our strange garments, cleave not to their mould +But with the aid of use. + +MACBETH +[Aside] Come what come may, +Time and the hour runs through the roughest day. + +BANQUO +Worthy Macbeth, we stay upon your leisure. + +MACBETH +Give me your favour: my dull brain was wrought +With things forgotten. Kind gentlemen, your pains +Are register'd where every day I turn +The leaf to read them. Let us toward the king. +Think upon what hath chanced, and, at more time, +The interim having weigh'd it, let us speak +Our free hearts each to other. + +BANQUO +Very gladly. + +MACBETH +Till then, enough. Come, friends. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Forres. The palace. + +Flourish. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, LENNOX, and Attendants +DUNCAN +Is execution done on Cawdor? Are not +Those in commission yet return'd? + +MALCOLM +My liege, +They are not yet come back. But I have spoke +With one that saw him die: who did report +That very frankly he confess'd his treasons, +Implored your highness' pardon and set forth +A deep repentance: nothing in his life +Became him like the leaving it; he died +As one that had been studied in his death +To throw away the dearest thing he owed, +As 'twere a careless trifle. + +DUNCAN +There's no art +To find the mind's construction in the face: +He was a gentleman on whom I built +An absolute trust. + +Enter MACBETH, BANQUO, ROSS, and ANGUS + +O worthiest cousin! +The sin of my ingratitude even now +Was heavy on me: thou art so far before +That swiftest wing of recompense is slow +To overtake thee. Would thou hadst less deserved, +That the proportion both of thanks and payment +Might have been mine! only I have left to say, +More is thy due than more than all can pay. + +MACBETH +The service and the loyalty I owe, +In doing it, pays itself. Your highness' part +Is to receive our duties; and our duties +Are to your throne and state children and servants, +Which do but what they should, by doing every thing +Safe toward your love and honour. + +DUNCAN +Welcome hither: +I have begun to plant thee, and will labour +To make thee full of growing. Noble Banquo, +That hast no less deserved, nor must be known +No less to have done so, let me enfold thee +And hold thee to my heart. + +BANQUO +There if I grow, +The harvest is your own. + +DUNCAN +My plenteous joys, +Wanton in fulness, seek to hide themselves +In drops of sorrow. Sons, kinsmen, thanes, +And you whose places are the nearest, know +We will establish our estate upon +Our eldest, Malcolm, whom we name hereafter +The Prince of Cumberland; which honour must +Not unaccompanied invest him only, +But signs of nobleness, like stars, shall shine +On all deservers. From hence to Inverness, +And bind us further to you. + +MACBETH +The rest is labour, which is not used for you: +I'll be myself the harbinger and make joyful +The hearing of my wife with your approach; +So humbly take my leave. + +DUNCAN +My worthy Cawdor! + +MACBETH +[Aside] The Prince of Cumberland! that is a step +On which I must fall down, or else o'erleap, +For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires; +Let not light see my black and deep desires: +The eye wink at the hand; yet let that be, +Which the eye fears, when it is done, to see. + +Exit + +DUNCAN +True, worthy Banquo; he is full so valiant, +And in his commendations I am fed; +It is a banquet to me. Let's after him, +Whose care is gone before to bid us welcome: +It is a peerless kinsman. + +Flourish. Exeunt + +SCENE V. Inverness. Macbeth's castle. + +Enter LADY MACBETH, reading a letter +LADY MACBETH +'They met me in the day of success: and I have +learned by the perfectest report, they have more in +them than mortal knowledge. When I burned in desire +to question them further, they made themselves air, +into which they vanished. Whiles I stood rapt in +the wonder of it, came missives from the king, who +all-hailed me 'Thane of Cawdor;' by which title, +before, these weird sisters saluted me, and referred +me to the coming on of time, with 'Hail, king that +shalt be!' This have I thought good to deliver +thee, my dearest partner of greatness, that thou +mightst not lose the dues of rejoicing, by being +ignorant of what greatness is promised thee. Lay it +to thy heart, and farewell.' +Glamis thou art, and Cawdor; and shalt be +What thou art promised: yet do I fear thy nature; +It is too full o' the milk of human kindness +To catch the nearest way: thou wouldst be great; +Art not without ambition, but without +The illness should attend it: what thou wouldst highly, +That wouldst thou holily; wouldst not play false, +And yet wouldst wrongly win: thou'ldst have, great Glamis, +That which cries 'Thus thou must do, if thou have it; +And that which rather thou dost fear to do +Than wishest should be undone.' Hie thee hither, +That I may pour my spirits in thine ear; +And chastise with the valour of my tongue +All that impedes thee from the golden round, +Which fate and metaphysical aid doth seem +To have thee crown'd withal. + +Enter a Messenger + +What is your tidings? + +Messenger +The king comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Thou'rt mad to say it: +Is not thy master with him? who, were't so, +Would have inform'd for preparation. + +Messenger +So please you, it is true: our thane is coming: +One of my fellows had the speed of him, +Who, almost dead for breath, had scarcely more +Than would make up his message. + +LADY MACBETH +Give him tending; +He brings great news. + +Exit Messenger + +The raven himself is hoarse +That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan +Under my battlements. Come, you spirits +That tend on mortal thoughts, unsex me here, +And fill me from the crown to the toe top-full +Of direst cruelty! make thick my blood; +Stop up the access and passage to remorse, +That no compunctious visitings of nature +Shake my fell purpose, nor keep peace between +The effect and it! Come to my woman's breasts, +And take my milk for gall, you murdering ministers, +Wherever in your sightless substances +You wait on nature's mischief! Come, thick night, +And pall thee in the dunnest smoke of hell, +That my keen knife see not the wound it makes, +Nor heaven peep through the blanket of the dark, +To cry 'Hold, hold!' + +Enter MACBETH + +Great Glamis! worthy Cawdor! +Greater than both, by the all-hail hereafter! +Thy letters have transported me beyond +This ignorant present, and I feel now +The future in the instant. + +MACBETH +My dearest love, +Duncan comes here to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +And when goes hence? + +MACBETH +To-morrow, as he purposes. + +LADY MACBETH +O, never +Shall sun that morrow see! +Your face, my thane, is as a book where men +May read strange matters. To beguile the time, +Look like the time; bear welcome in your eye, +Your hand, your tongue: look like the innocent flower, +But be the serpent under't. He that's coming +Must be provided for: and you shall put +This night's great business into my dispatch; +Which shall to all our nights and days to come +Give solely sovereign sway and masterdom. + +MACBETH +We will speak further. + +LADY MACBETH +Only look up clear; +To alter favour ever is to fear: +Leave all the rest to me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Before Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter DUNCAN, MALCOLM, DONALBAIN, BANQUO, LENNOX, MACDUFF, ROSS, ANGUS, and Attendants +DUNCAN +This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air +Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself +Unto our gentle senses. + +BANQUO +This guest of summer, +The temple-haunting martlet, does approve, +By his loved mansionry, that the heaven's breath +Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze, +Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird +Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle: +Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed, +The air is delicate. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +DUNCAN +See, see, our honour'd hostess! +The love that follows us sometime is our trouble, +Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you +How you shall bid God 'ild us for your pains, +And thank us for your trouble. + +LADY MACBETH +All our service +In every point twice done and then done double +Were poor and single business to contend +Against those honours deep and broad wherewith +Your majesty loads our house: for those of old, +And the late dignities heap'd up to them, +We rest your hermits. + +DUNCAN +Where's the thane of Cawdor? +We coursed him at the heels, and had a purpose +To be his purveyor: but he rides well; +And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him +To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess, +We are your guest to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Your servants ever +Have theirs, themselves and what is theirs, in compt, +To make their audit at your highness' pleasure, +Still to return your own. + +DUNCAN +Give me your hand; +Conduct me to mine host: we love him highly, +And shall continue our graces towards him. +By your leave, hostess. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VII. Macbeth's castle. + +Hautboys and torches. Enter a Sewer, and divers Servants with dishes and service, and pass over the stage. Then enter MACBETH +MACBETH +If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well +It were done quickly: if the assassination +Could trammel up the consequence, and catch +With his surcease success; that but this blow +Might be the be-all and the end-all here, +But here, upon this bank and shoal of time, +We'ld jump the life to come. But in these cases +We still have judgment here; that we but teach +Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return +To plague the inventor: this even-handed justice +Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice +To our own lips. He's here in double trust; +First, as I am his kinsman and his subject, +Strong both against the deed; then, as his host, +Who should against his murderer shut the door, +Not bear the knife myself. Besides, this Duncan +Hath borne his faculties so meek, hath been +So clear in his great office, that his virtues +Will plead like angels, trumpet-tongued, against +The deep damnation of his taking-off; +And pity, like a naked new-born babe, +Striding the blast, or heaven's cherubim, horsed +Upon the sightless couriers of the air, +Shall blow the horrid deed in every eye, +That tears shall drown the wind. I have no spur +To prick the sides of my intent, but only +Vaulting ambition, which o'erleaps itself +And falls on the other. + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +How now! what news? + +LADY MACBETH +He has almost supp'd: why have you left the chamber? + +MACBETH +Hath he ask'd for me? + +LADY MACBETH +Know you not he has? + +MACBETH +We will proceed no further in this business: +He hath honour'd me of late; and I have bought +Golden opinions from all sorts of people, +Which would be worn now in their newest gloss, +Not cast aside so soon. + +LADY MACBETH +Was the hope drunk +Wherein you dress'd yourself? hath it slept since? +And wakes it now, to look so green and pale +At what it did so freely? From this time +Such I account thy love. Art thou afeard +To be the same in thine own act and valour +As thou art in desire? Wouldst thou have that +Which thou esteem'st the ornament of life, +And live a coward in thine own esteem, +Letting 'I dare not' wait upon 'I would,' +Like the poor cat i' the adage? + +MACBETH +Prithee, peace: +I dare do all that may become a man; +Who dares do more is none. + +LADY MACBETH +What beast was't, then, +That made you break this enterprise to me? +When you durst do it, then you were a man; +And, to be more than what you were, you would +Be so much more the man. Nor time nor place +Did then adhere, and yet you would make both: +They have made themselves, and that their fitness now +Does unmake you. I have given suck, and know +How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me: +I would, while it was smiling in my face, +Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums, +And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you +Have done to this. + +MACBETH +If we should fail? + +LADY MACBETH +We fail! +But screw your courage to the sticking-place, +And we'll not fail. When Duncan is asleep-- +Whereto the rather shall his day's hard journey +Soundly invite him--his two chamberlains +Will I with wine and wassail so convince +That memory, the warder of the brain, +Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason +A limbeck only: when in swinish sleep +Their drenched natures lie as in a death, +What cannot you and I perform upon +The unguarded Duncan? what not put upon +His spongy officers, who shall bear the guilt +Of our great quell? + +MACBETH +Bring forth men-children only; +For thy undaunted mettle should compose +Nothing but males. Will it not be received, +When we have mark'd with blood those sleepy two +Of his own chamber and used their very daggers, +That they have done't? + +LADY MACBETH +Who dares receive it other, +As we shall make our griefs and clamour roar +Upon his death? + +MACBETH +I am settled, and bend up +Each corporal agent to this terrible feat. +Away, and mock the time with fairest show: +False face must hide what the false heart doth know. + +Exeunt + + +ACT II +SCENE I. Court of Macbeth's castle. + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE bearing a torch before him +BANQUO +How goes the night, boy? + +FLEANCE +The moon is down; I have not heard the clock. + +BANQUO +And she goes down at twelve. + +FLEANCE +I take't, 'tis later, sir. + +BANQUO +Hold, take my sword. There's husbandry in heaven; +Their candles are all out. Take thee that too. +A heavy summons lies like lead upon me, +And yet I would not sleep: merciful powers, +Restrain in me the cursed thoughts that nature +Gives way to in repose! + +Enter MACBETH, and a Servant with a torch + +Give me my sword. +Who's there? + +MACBETH +A friend. + +BANQUO +What, sir, not yet at rest? The king's a-bed: +He hath been in unusual pleasure, and +Sent forth great largess to your offices. +This diamond he greets your wife withal, +By the name of most kind hostess; and shut up +In measureless content. + +MACBETH +Being unprepared, +Our will became the servant to defect; +Which else should free have wrought. + +BANQUO +All's well. +I dreamt last night of the three weird sisters: +To you they have show'd some truth. + +MACBETH +I think not of them: +Yet, when we can entreat an hour to serve, +We would spend it in some words upon that business, +If you would grant the time. + +BANQUO +At your kind'st leisure. + +MACBETH +If you shall cleave to my consent, when 'tis, +It shall make honour for you. + +BANQUO +So I lose none +In seeking to augment it, but still keep +My bosom franchised and allegiance clear, +I shall be counsell'd. + +MACBETH +Good repose the while! + +BANQUO +Thanks, sir: the like to you! + +Exeunt BANQUO and FLEANCE + +MACBETH +Go bid thy mistress, when my drink is ready, +She strike upon the bell. Get thee to bed. + +Exit Servant + +Is this a dagger which I see before me, +The handle toward my hand? Come, let me clutch thee. +I have thee not, and yet I see thee still. +Art thou not, fatal vision, sensible +To feeling as to sight? or art thou but +A dagger of the mind, a false creation, +Proceeding from the heat-oppressed brain? +I see thee yet, in form as palpable +As this which now I draw. +Thou marshall'st me the way that I was going; +And such an instrument I was to use. +Mine eyes are made the fools o' the other senses, +Or else worth all the rest; I see thee still, +And on thy blade and dudgeon gouts of blood, +Which was not so before. There's no such thing: +It is the bloody business which informs +Thus to mine eyes. Now o'er the one halfworld +Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse +The curtain'd sleep; witchcraft celebrates +Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd murder, +Alarum'd by his sentinel, the wolf, +Whose howl's his watch, thus with his stealthy pace. +With Tarquin's ravishing strides, towards his design +Moves like a ghost. Thou sure and firm-set earth, +Hear not my steps, which way they walk, for fear +Thy very stones prate of my whereabout, +And take the present horror from the time, +Which now suits with it. Whiles I threat, he lives: +Words to the heat of deeds too cold breath gives. + +A bell rings + +I go, and it is done; the bell invites me. +Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell +That summons thee to heaven or to hell. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The same. + +Enter LADY MACBETH +LADY MACBETH +That which hath made them drunk hath made me bold; +What hath quench'd them hath given me fire. +Hark! Peace! +It was the owl that shriek'd, the fatal bellman, +Which gives the stern'st good-night. He is about it: +The doors are open; and the surfeited grooms +Do mock their charge with snores: I have drugg'd +their possets, +That death and nature do contend about them, +Whether they live or die. + +MACBETH +[Within] Who's there? what, ho! + +LADY MACBETH +Alack, I am afraid they have awaked, +And 'tis not done. The attempt and not the deed +Confounds us. Hark! I laid their daggers ready; +He could not miss 'em. Had he not resembled +My father as he slept, I had done't. + +Enter MACBETH + +My husband! + +MACBETH +I have done the deed. Didst thou not hear a noise? + +LADY MACBETH +I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. +Did not you speak? + +MACBETH +When? + +LADY MACBETH +Now. + +MACBETH +As I descended? + +LADY MACBETH +Ay. + +MACBETH +Hark! +Who lies i' the second chamber? + +LADY MACBETH +Donalbain. + +MACBETH +This is a sorry sight. + +Looking on his hands + +LADY MACBETH +A foolish thought, to say a sorry sight. + +MACBETH +There's one did laugh in's sleep, and one cried +'Murder!' +That they did wake each other: I stood and heard them: +But they did say their prayers, and address'd them +Again to sleep. + +LADY MACBETH +There are two lodged together. + +MACBETH +One cried 'God bless us!' and 'Amen' the other; +As they had seen me with these hangman's hands. +Listening their fear, I could not say 'Amen,' +When they did say 'God bless us!' + +LADY MACBETH +Consider it not so deeply. + +MACBETH +But wherefore could not I pronounce 'Amen'? +I had most need of blessing, and 'Amen' +Stuck in my throat. + +LADY MACBETH +These deeds must not be thought +After these ways; so, it will make us mad. + +MACBETH +Methought I heard a voice cry 'Sleep no more! +Macbeth does murder sleep', the innocent sleep, +Sleep that knits up the ravell'd sleeve of care, +The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath, +Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course, +Chief nourisher in life's feast,-- + +LADY MACBETH +What do you mean? + +MACBETH +Still it cried 'Sleep no more!' to all the house: +'Glamis hath murder'd sleep, and therefore Cawdor +Shall sleep no more; Macbeth shall sleep no more.' + +LADY MACBETH +Who was it that thus cried? Why, worthy thane, +You do unbend your noble strength, to think +So brainsickly of things. Go get some water, +And wash this filthy witness from your hand. +Why did you bring these daggers from the place? +They must lie there: go carry them; and smear +The sleepy grooms with blood. + +MACBETH +I'll go no more: +I am afraid to think what I have done; +Look on't again I dare not. + +LADY MACBETH +Infirm of purpose! +Give me the daggers: the sleeping and the dead +Are but as pictures: 'tis the eye of childhood +That fears a painted devil. If he do bleed, +I'll gild the faces of the grooms withal; +For it must seem their guilt. + +Exit. Knocking within + +MACBETH +Whence is that knocking? +How is't with me, when every noise appals me? +What hands are here? ha! they pluck out mine eyes. +Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood +Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather +The multitudinous seas in incarnadine, +Making the green one red. + +Re-enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +My hands are of your colour; but I shame +To wear a heart so white. + +Knocking within + +I hear a knocking +At the south entry: retire we to our chamber; +A little water clears us of this deed: +How easy is it, then! Your constancy +Hath left you unattended. + +Knocking within + +Hark! more knocking. +Get on your nightgown, lest occasion call us, +And show us to be watchers. Be not lost +So poorly in your thoughts. + +MACBETH +To know my deed, 'twere best not know myself. + +Knocking within + +Wake Duncan with thy knocking! I would thou couldst! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The same. + +Knocking within. Enter a Porter +Porter +Here's a knocking indeed! If a +man were porter of hell-gate, he should have +old turning the key. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there, i' the name of +Beelzebub? Here's a farmer, that hanged +himself on the expectation of plenty: come in +time; have napkins enow about you; here +you'll sweat for't. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock! Who's there, in the other devil's +name? Faith, here's an equivocator, that could +swear in both the scales against either scale; +who committed treason enough for God's sake, +yet could not equivocate to heaven: O, come +in, equivocator. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock, knock! Who's there? Faith, here's an +English tailor come hither, for stealing out of +a French hose: come in, tailor; here you may +roast your goose. + +Knocking within + +Knock, +knock; never at quiet! What are you? But +this place is too cold for hell. I'll devil-porter +it no further: I had thought to have let in +some of all professions that go the primrose +way to the everlasting bonfire. + +Knocking within + +Anon, anon! I pray you, remember the porter. + +Opens the gate + +Enter MACDUFF and LENNOX + +MACDUFF +Was it so late, friend, ere you went to bed, +That you do lie so late? + +Porter +'Faith sir, we were carousing till the +second cock: and drink, sir, is a great +provoker of three things. + +MACDUFF +What three things does drink especially provoke? + +Porter +Marry, sir, nose-painting, sleep, and +urine. Lechery, sir, it provokes, and unprovokes; +it provokes the desire, but it takes +away the performance: therefore, much drink +may be said to be an equivocator with lechery: +it makes him, and it mars him; it sets +him on, and it takes him off; it persuades him, +and disheartens him; makes him stand to, and +not stand to; in conclusion, equivocates him +in a sleep, and, giving him the lie, leaves him. + +MACDUFF +I believe drink gave thee the lie last night. + +Porter +That it did, sir, i' the very throat on +me: but I requited him for his lie; and, I +think, being too strong for him, though he took +up my legs sometime, yet I made a shift to cast +him. + +MACDUFF +Is thy master stirring? + +Enter MACBETH + +Our knocking has awaked him; here he comes. + +LENNOX +Good morrow, noble sir. + +MACBETH +Good morrow, both. + +MACDUFF +Is the king stirring, worthy thane? + +MACBETH +Not yet. + +MACDUFF +He did command me to call timely on him: +I have almost slipp'd the hour. + +MACBETH +I'll bring you to him. + +MACDUFF +I know this is a joyful trouble to you; +But yet 'tis one. + +MACBETH +The labour we delight in physics pain. +This is the door. + +MACDUFF +I'll make so bold to call, +For 'tis my limited service. + +Exit + +LENNOX +Goes the king hence to-day? + +MACBETH +He does: he did appoint so. + +LENNOX +The night has been unruly: where we lay, +Our chimneys were blown down; and, as they say, +Lamentings heard i' the air; strange screams of death, +And prophesying with accents terrible +Of dire combustion and confused events +New hatch'd to the woeful time: the obscure bird +Clamour'd the livelong night: some say, the earth +Was feverous and did shake. + +MACBETH +'Twas a rough night. + +LENNOX +My young remembrance cannot parallel +A fellow to it. + +Re-enter MACDUFF + +MACDUFF +O horror, horror, horror! Tongue nor heart +Cannot conceive nor name thee! + +MACBETH LENNOX +What's the matter. + +MACDUFF +Confusion now hath made his masterpiece! +Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope +The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence +The life o' the building! + +MACBETH +What is 't you say? the life? + +LENNOX +Mean you his majesty? + +MACDUFF +Approach the chamber, and destroy your sight +With a new Gorgon: do not bid me speak; +See, and then speak yourselves. + +Exeunt MACBETH and LENNOX + +Awake, awake! +Ring the alarum-bell. Murder and treason! +Banquo and Donalbain! Malcolm! awake! +Shake off this downy sleep, death's counterfeit, +And look on death itself! up, up, and see +The great doom's image! Malcolm! Banquo! +As from your graves rise up, and walk like sprites, +To countenance this horror! Ring the bell. + +Bell rings + +Enter LADY MACBETH + +LADY MACBETH +What's the business, +That such a hideous trumpet calls to parley +The sleepers of the house? speak, speak! + +MACDUFF +O gentle lady, +'Tis not for you to hear what I can speak: +The repetition, in a woman's ear, +Would murder as it fell. + +Enter BANQUO + +O Banquo, Banquo, +Our royal master 's murder'd! + +LADY MACBETH +Woe, alas! +What, in our house? + +BANQUO +Too cruel any where. +Dear Duff, I prithee, contradict thyself, +And say it is not so. + +Re-enter MACBETH and LENNOX, with ROSS + +MACBETH +Had I but died an hour before this chance, +I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant, +There 's nothing serious in mortality: +All is but toys: renown and grace is dead; +The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees +Is left this vault to brag of. + +Enter MALCOLM and DONALBAIN + +DONALBAIN +What is amiss? + +MACBETH +You are, and do not know't: +The spring, the head, the fountain of your blood +Is stopp'd; the very source of it is stopp'd. + +MACDUFF +Your royal father 's murder'd. + +MALCOLM +O, by whom? + +LENNOX +Those of his chamber, as it seem'd, had done 't: +Their hands and faces were an badged with blood; +So were their daggers, which unwiped we found +Upon their pillows: +They stared, and were distracted; no man's life +Was to be trusted with them. + +MACBETH +O, yet I do repent me of my fury, +That I did kill them. + +MACDUFF +Wherefore did you so? + +MACBETH +Who can be wise, amazed, temperate and furious, +Loyal and neutral, in a moment? No man: +The expedition my violent love +Outrun the pauser, reason. Here lay Duncan, +His silver skin laced with his golden blood; +And his gash'd stabs look'd like a breach in nature +For ruin's wasteful entrance: there, the murderers, +Steep'd in the colours of their trade, their daggers +Unmannerly breech'd with gore: who could refrain, +That had a heart to love, and in that heart +Courage to make 's love kno wn? + +LADY MACBETH +Help me hence, ho! + +MACDUFF +Look to the lady. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Why do we hold our tongues, +That most may claim this argument for ours? + +DONALBAIN +[Aside to MALCOLM] What should be spoken here, +where our fate, +Hid in an auger-hole, may rush, and seize us? +Let 's away; +Our tears are not yet brew'd. + +MALCOLM +[Aside to DONALBAIN] Nor our strong sorrow +Upon the foot of motion. + +BANQUO +Look to the lady: + +LADY MACBETH is carried out + +And when we have our naked frailties hid, +That suffer in exposure, let us meet, +And question this most bloody piece of work, +To know it further. Fears and scruples shake us: +In the great hand of God I stand; and thence +Against the undivulged pretence I fight +Of treasonous malice. + +MACDUFF +And so do I. + +ALL +So all. + +MACBETH +Let's briefly put on manly readiness, +And meet i' the hall together. + +ALL +Well contented. + +Exeunt all but Malcolm and Donalbain. + +MALCOLM +What will you do? Let's not consort with them: +To show an unfelt sorrow is an office +Which the false man does easy. I'll to England. + +DONALBAIN +To Ireland, I; our separated fortune +Shall keep us both the safer: where we are, +There's daggers in men's smiles: the near in blood, +The nearer bloody. + +MALCOLM +This murderous shaft that's shot +Hath not yet lighted, and our safest way +Is to avoid the aim. Therefore, to horse; +And let us not be dainty of leave-taking, +But shift away: there's warrant in that theft +Which steals itself, when there's no mercy left. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. Outside Macbeth's castle. + +Enter ROSS and an old Man +Old Man +Threescore and ten I can remember well: +Within the volume of which time I have seen +Hours dreadful and things strange; but this sore night +Hath trifled former knowings. + +ROSS +Ah, good father, +Thou seest, the heavens, as troubled with man's act, +Threaten his bloody stage: by the clock, 'tis day, +And yet dark night strangles the travelling lamp: +Is't night's predominance, or the day's shame, +That darkness does the face of earth entomb, +When living light should kiss it? + +Old Man +'Tis unnatural, +Even like the deed that's done. On Tuesday last, +A falcon, towering in her pride of place, +Was by a mousing owl hawk'd at and kill'd. + +ROSS +And Duncan's horses--a thing most strange and certain-- +Beauteous and swift, the minions of their race, +Turn'd wild in nature, broke their stalls, flung out, +Contending 'gainst obedience, as they would make +War with mankind. + +Old Man +'Tis said they eat each other. + +ROSS +They did so, to the amazement of mine eyes +That look'd upon't. Here comes the good Macduff. + +Enter MACDUFF + +How goes the world, sir, now? + +MACDUFF +Why, see you not? + +ROSS +Is't known who did this more than bloody deed? + +MACDUFF +Those that Macbeth hath slain. + +ROSS +Alas, the day! +What good could they pretend? + +MACDUFF +They were suborn'd: +Malcolm and Donalbain, the king's two sons, +Are stol'n away and fled; which puts upon them +Suspicion of the deed. + +ROSS +'Gainst nature still! +Thriftless ambition, that wilt ravin up +Thine own life's means! Then 'tis most like +The sovereignty will fall upon Macbeth. + +MACDUFF +He is already named, and gone to Scone +To be invested. + +ROSS +Where is Duncan's body? + +MACDUFF +Carried to Colmekill, +The sacred storehouse of his predecessors, +And guardian of their bones. + +ROSS +Will you to Scone? + +MACDUFF +No, cousin, I'll to Fife. + +ROSS +Well, I will thither. + +MACDUFF +Well, may you see things well done there: adieu! +Lest our old robes sit easier than our new! + +ROSS +Farewell, father. + +Old Man +God's benison go with you; and with those +That would make good of bad, and friends of foes! + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Forres. The palace. + +Enter BANQUO +BANQUO +Thou hast it now: king, Cawdor, Glamis, all, +As the weird women promised, and, I fear, +Thou play'dst most foully for't: yet it was said +It should not stand in thy posterity, +But that myself should be the root and father +Of many kings. If there come truth from them-- +As upon thee, Macbeth, their speeches shine-- +Why, by the verities on thee made good, +May they not be my oracles as well, +And set me up in hope? But hush! no more. + +Sennet sounded. Enter MACBETH, as king, LADY MACBETH, as queen, LENNOX, ROSS, Lords, Ladies, and Attendants + +MACBETH +Here's our chief guest. + +LADY MACBETH +If he had been forgotten, +It had been as a gap in our great feast, +And all-thing unbecoming. + +MACBETH +To-night we hold a solemn supper sir, +And I'll request your presence. + +BANQUO +Let your highness +Command upon me; to the which my duties +Are with a most indissoluble tie +For ever knit. + +MACBETH +Ride you this afternoon? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +We should have else desired your good advice, +Which still hath been both grave and prosperous, +In this day's council; but we'll take to-morrow. +Is't far you ride? + +BANQUO +As far, my lord, as will fill up the time +'Twixt this and supper: go not my horse the better, +I must become a borrower of the night +For a dark hour or twain. + +MACBETH +Fail not our feast. + +BANQUO +My lord, I will not. + +MACBETH +We hear, our bloody cousins are bestow'd +In England and in Ireland, not confessing +Their cruel parricide, filling their hearers +With strange invention: but of that to-morrow, +When therewithal we shall have cause of state +Craving us jointly. Hie you to horse: adieu, +Till you return at night. Goes Fleance with you? + +BANQUO +Ay, my good lord: our time does call upon 's. + +MACBETH +I wish your horses swift and sure of foot; +And so I do commend you to their backs. Farewell. + +Exit BANQUO + +Let every man be master of his time +Till seven at night: to make society +The sweeter welcome, we will keep ourself +Till supper-time alone: while then, God be with you! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH, and an attendant + +Sirrah, a word with you: attend those men +Our pleasure? + +ATTENDANT +They are, my lord, without the palace gate. + +MACBETH +Bring them before us. + +Exit Attendant + +To be thus is nothing; +But to be safely thus.--Our fears in Banquo +Stick deep; and in his royalty of nature +Reigns that which would be fear'd: 'tis much he dares; +And, to that dauntless temper of his mind, +He hath a wisdom that doth guide his valour +To act in safety. There is none but he +Whose being I do fear: and, under him, +My Genius is rebuked; as, it is said, +Mark Antony's was by Caesar. He chid the sisters +When first they put the name of king upon me, +And bade them speak to him: then prophet-like +They hail'd him father to a line of kings: +Upon my head they placed a fruitless crown, +And put a barren sceptre in my gripe, +Thence to be wrench'd with an unlineal hand, +No son of mine succeeding. If 't be so, +For Banquo's issue have I filed my mind; +For them the gracious Duncan have I murder'd; +Put rancours in the vessel of my peace +Only for them; and mine eternal jewel +Given to the common enemy of man, +To make them kings, the seed of Banquo kings! +Rather than so, come fate into the list. +And champion me to the utterance! Who's there! + +Re-enter Attendant, with two Murderers + +Now go to the door, and stay there till we call. + +Exit Attendant + +Was it not yesterday we spoke together? + +First Murderer +It was, so please your highness. + +MACBETH +Well then, now +Have you consider'd of my speeches? Know +That it was he in the times past which held you +So under fortune, which you thought had been +Our innocent self: this I made good to you +In our last conference, pass'd in probation with you, +How you were borne in hand, how cross'd, +the instruments, +Who wrought with them, and all things else that might +To half a soul and to a notion crazed +Say 'Thus did Banquo.' + +First Murderer +You made it known to us. + +MACBETH +I did so, and went further, which is now +Our point of second meeting. Do you find +Your patience so predominant in your nature +That you can let this go? Are you so gospell'd +To pray for this good man and for his issue, +Whose heavy hand hath bow'd you to the grave +And beggar'd yours for ever? + +First Murderer +We are men, my liege. + +MACBETH +Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men; +As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs, +Shoughs, water-rugs and demi-wolves, are clept +All by the name of dogs: the valued file +Distinguishes the swift, the slow, the subtle, +The housekeeper, the hunter, every one +According to the gift which bounteous nature +Hath in him closed; whereby he does receive +Particular addition. from the bill +That writes them all alike: and so of men. +Now, if you have a station in the file, +Not i' the worst rank of manhood, say 't; +And I will put that business in your bosoms, +Whose execution takes your enemy off, +Grapples you to the heart and love of us, +Who wear our health but sickly in his life, +Which in his death were perfect. + +Second Murderer +I am one, my liege, +Whom the vile blows and buffets of the world +Have so incensed that I am reckless what +I do to spite the world. + +First Murderer +And I another +So weary with disasters, tugg'd with fortune, +That I would set my lie on any chance, +To mend it, or be rid on't. + +MACBETH +Both of you +Know Banquo was your enemy. + +Both Murderers +True, my lord. + +MACBETH +So is he mine; and in such bloody distance, +That every minute of his being thrusts +Against my near'st of life: and though I could +With barefaced power sweep him from my sight +And bid my will avouch it, yet I must not, +For certain friends that are both his and mine, +Whose loves I may not drop, but wail his fall +Who I myself struck down; and thence it is, +That I to your assistance do make love, +Masking the business from the common eye +For sundry weighty reasons. + +Second Murderer +We shall, my lord, +Perform what you command us. + +First Murderer +Though our lives-- + +MACBETH +Your spirits shine through you. Within this hour at most +I will advise you where to plant yourselves; +Acquaint you with the perfect spy o' the time, +The moment on't; for't must be done to-night, +And something from the palace; always thought +That I require a clearness: and with him-- +To leave no rubs nor botches in the work-- +Fleance his son, that keeps him company, +Whose absence is no less material to me +Than is his father's, must embrace the fate +Of that dark hour. Resolve yourselves apart: +I'll come to you anon. + +Both Murderers +We are resolved, my lord. + +MACBETH +I'll call upon you straight: abide within. + +Exeunt Murderers + +It is concluded. Banquo, thy soul's flight, +If it find heaven, must find it out to-night. + +Exit + +SCENE II. The palace. + +Enter LADY MACBETH and a Servant +LADY MACBETH +Is Banquo gone from court? + +Servant +Ay, madam, but returns again to-night. + +LADY MACBETH +Say to the king, I would attend his leisure +For a few words. + +Servant +Madam, I will. + +Exit + +LADY MACBETH +Nought's had, all's spent, +Where our desire is got without content: +'Tis safer to be that which we destroy +Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy. + +Enter MACBETH + +How now, my lord! why do you keep alone, +Of sorriest fancies your companions making, +Using those thoughts which should indeed have died +With them they think on? Things without all remedy +Should be without regard: what's done is done. + +MACBETH +We have scotch'd the snake, not kill'd it: +She'll close and be herself, whilst our poor malice +Remains in danger of her former tooth. +But let the frame of things disjoint, both the +worlds suffer, +Ere we will eat our meal in fear and sleep +In the affliction of these terrible dreams +That shake us nightly: better be with the dead, +Whom we, to gain our peace, have sent to peace, +Than on the torture of the mind to lie +In restless ecstasy. Duncan is in his grave; +After life's fitful fever he sleeps well; +Treason has done his worst: nor steel, nor poison, +Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing, +Can touch him further. + +LADY MACBETH +Come on; +Gentle my lord, sleek o'er your rugged looks; +Be bright and jovial among your guests to-night. + +MACBETH +So shall I, love; and so, I pray, be you: +Let your remembrance apply to Banquo; +Present him eminence, both with eye and tongue: +Unsafe the while, that we +Must lave our honours in these flattering streams, +And make our faces vizards to our hearts, +Disguising what they are. + +LADY MACBETH +You must leave this. + +MACBETH +O, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife! +Thou know'st that Banquo, and his Fleance, lives. + +LADY MACBETH +But in them nature's copy's not eterne. + +MACBETH +There's comfort yet; they are assailable; +Then be thou jocund: ere the bat hath flown +His cloister'd flight, ere to black Hecate's summons +The shard-borne beetle with his drowsy hums +Hath rung night's yawning peal, there shall be done +A deed of dreadful note. + +LADY MACBETH +What's to be done? + +MACBETH +Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck, +Till thou applaud the deed. Come, seeling night, +Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day; +And with thy bloody and invisible hand +Cancel and tear to pieces that great bond +Which keeps me pale! Light thickens; and the crow +Makes wing to the rooky wood: +Good things of day begin to droop and drowse; +While night's black agents to their preys do rouse. +Thou marvell'st at my words: but hold thee still; +Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill. +So, prithee, go with me. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A park near the palace. + +Enter three Murderers +First Murderer +But who did bid thee join with us? + +Third Murderer +Macbeth. + +Second Murderer +He needs not our mistrust, since he delivers +Our offices and what we have to do +To the direction just. + +First Murderer +Then stand with us. +The west yet glimmers with some streaks of day: +Now spurs the lated traveller apace +To gain the timely inn; and near approaches +The subject of our watch. + +Third Murderer +Hark! I hear horses. + +BANQUO +[Within] Give us a light there, ho! + +Second Murderer +Then 'tis he: the rest +That are within the note of expectation +Already are i' the court. + +First Murderer +His horses go about. + +Third Murderer +Almost a mile: but he does usually, +So all men do, from hence to the palace gate +Make it their walk. + +Second Murderer +A light, a light! + +Enter BANQUO, and FLEANCE with a torch + +Third Murderer +'Tis he. + +First Murderer +Stand to't. + +BANQUO +It will be rain to-night. + +First Murderer +Let it come down. + +They set upon BANQUO + +BANQUO +O, treachery! Fly, good Fleance, fly, fly, fly! +Thou mayst revenge. O slave! + +Dies. FLEANCE escapes + +Third Murderer +Who did strike out the light? + +First Murderer +Wast not the way? + +Third Murderer +There's but one down; the son is fled. + +Second Murderer +We have lost +Best half of our affair. + +First Murderer +Well, let's away, and say how much is done. + +Exeunt + +SCENE IV. The same. Hall in the palace. + +A banquet prepared. Enter MACBETH, LADY MACBETH, ROSS, LENNOX, Lords, and Attendants +MACBETH +You know your own degrees; sit down: at first +And last the hearty welcome. + +Lords +Thanks to your majesty. + +MACBETH +Ourself will mingle with society, +And play the humble host. +Our hostess keeps her state, but in best time +We will require her welcome. + +LADY MACBETH +Pronounce it for me, sir, to all our friends; +For my heart speaks they are welcome. + +First Murderer appears at the door + +MACBETH +See, they encounter thee with their hearts' thanks. +Both sides are even: here I'll sit i' the midst: +Be large in mirth; anon we'll drink a measure +The table round. + +Approaching the door + +There's blood on thy face. + +First Murderer +'Tis Banquo's then. + +MACBETH +'Tis better thee without than he within. +Is he dispatch'd? + +First Murderer +My lord, his throat is cut; that I did for him. + +MACBETH +Thou art the best o' the cut-throats: yet he's good +That did the like for Fleance: if thou didst it, +Thou art the nonpareil. + +First Murderer +Most royal sir, +Fleance is 'scaped. + +MACBETH +Then comes my fit again: I had else been perfect, +Whole as the marble, founded as the rock, +As broad and general as the casing air: +But now I am cabin'd, cribb'd, confined, bound in +To saucy doubts and fears. But Banquo's safe? + +First Murderer +Ay, my good lord: safe in a ditch he bides, +With twenty trenched gashes on his head; +The least a death to nature. + +MACBETH +Thanks for that: +There the grown serpent lies; the worm that's fled +Hath nature that in time will venom breed, +No teeth for the present. Get thee gone: to-morrow +We'll hear, ourselves, again. + +Exit Murderer + +LADY MACBETH +My royal lord, +You do not give the cheer: the feast is sold +That is not often vouch'd, while 'tis a-making, +'Tis given with welcome: to feed were best at home; +From thence the sauce to meat is ceremony; +Meeting were bare without it. + +MACBETH +Sweet remembrancer! +Now, good digestion wait on appetite, +And health on both! + +LENNOX +May't please your highness sit. + +The GHOST OF BANQUO enters, and sits in MACBETH's place + +MACBETH +Here had we now our country's honour roof'd, +Were the graced person of our Banquo present; +Who may I rather challenge for unkindness +Than pity for mischance! + +ROSS +His absence, sir, +Lays blame upon his promise. Please't your highness +To grace us with your royal company. + +MACBETH +The table's full. + +LENNOX +Here is a place reserved, sir. + +MACBETH +Where? + +LENNOX +Here, my good lord. What is't that moves your highness? + +MACBETH +Which of you have done this? + +Lords +What, my good lord? + +MACBETH +Thou canst not say I did it: never shake +Thy gory locks at me. + +ROSS +Gentlemen, rise: his highness is not well. + +LADY MACBETH +Sit, worthy friends: my lord is often thus, +And hath been from his youth: pray you, keep seat; +The fit is momentary; upon a thought +He will again be well: if much you note him, +You shall offend him and extend his passion: +Feed, and regard him not. Are you a man? + +MACBETH +Ay, and a bold one, that dare look on that +Which might appal the devil. + +LADY MACBETH +O proper stuff! +This is the very painting of your fear: +This is the air-drawn dagger which, you said, +Led you to Duncan. O, these flaws and starts, +Impostors to true fear, would well become +A woman's story at a winter's fire, +Authorized by her grandam. Shame itself! +Why do you make such faces? When all's done, +You look but on a stool. + +MACBETH +Prithee, see there! behold! look! lo! +how say you? +Why, what care I? If thou canst nod, speak too. +If charnel-houses and our graves must send +Those that we bury back, our monuments +Shall be the maws of kites. + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +LADY MACBETH +What, quite unmann'd in folly? + +MACBETH +If I stand here, I saw him. + +LADY MACBETH +Fie, for shame! + +MACBETH +Blood hath been shed ere now, i' the olden time, +Ere human statute purged the gentle weal; +Ay, and since too, murders have been perform'd +Too terrible for the ear: the times have been, +That, when the brains were out, the man would die, +And there an end; but now they rise again, +With twenty mortal murders on their crowns, +And push us from our stools: this is more strange +Than such a murder is. + +LADY MACBETH +My worthy lord, +Your noble friends do lack you. + +MACBETH +I do forget. +Do not muse at me, my most worthy friends, +I have a strange infirmity, which is nothing +To those that know me. Come, love and health to all; +Then I'll sit down. Give me some wine; fill full. +I drink to the general joy o' the whole table, +And to our dear friend Banquo, whom we miss; +Would he were here! to all, and him, we thirst, +And all to all. + +Lords +Our duties, and the pledge. + +Re-enter GHOST OF BANQUO + +MACBETH +Avaunt! and quit my sight! let the earth hide thee! +Thy bones are marrowless, thy blood is cold; +Thou hast no speculation in those eyes +Which thou dost glare with! + +LADY MACBETH +Think of this, good peers, +But as a thing of custom: 'tis no other; +Only it spoils the pleasure of the time. + +MACBETH +What man dare, I dare: +Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, +The arm'd rhinoceros, or the Hyrcan tiger; +Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves +Shall never tremble: or be alive again, +And dare me to the desert with thy sword; +If trembling I inhabit then, protest me +The baby of a girl. Hence, horrible shadow! +Unreal mockery, hence! + +GHOST OF BANQUO vanishes + +Why, so: being gone, +I am a man again. Pray you, sit still. + +LADY MACBETH +You have displaced the mirth, broke the good meeting, +With most admired disorder. + +MACBETH +Can such things be, +And overcome us like a summer's cloud, +Without our special wonder? You make me strange +Even to the disposition that I owe, +When now I think you can behold such sights, +And keep the natural ruby of your cheeks, +When mine is blanched with fear. + +ROSS +What sights, my lord? + +LADY MACBETH +I pray you, speak not; he grows worse and worse; +Question enrages him. At once, good night: +Stand not upon the order of your going, +But go at once. + +LENNOX +Good night; and better health +Attend his majesty! + +LADY MACBETH +A kind good night to all! + +Exeunt all but MACBETH and LADY MACBETH + +MACBETH +It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood: +Stones have been known to move and trees to speak; +Augurs and understood relations have +By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth +The secret'st man of blood. What is the night? + +LADY MACBETH +Almost at odds with morning, which is which. + +MACBETH +How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person +At our great bidding? + +LADY MACBETH +Did you send to him, sir? + +MACBETH +I hear it by the way; but I will send: +There's not a one of them but in his house +I keep a servant fee'd. I will to-morrow, +And betimes I will, to the weird sisters: +More shall they speak; for now I am bent to know, +By the worst means, the worst. For mine own good, +All causes shall give way: I am in blood +Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, +Returning were as tedious as go o'er: +Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; +Which must be acted ere they may be scann'd. + +LADY MACBETH +You lack the season of all natures, sleep. + +MACBETH +Come, we'll to sleep. My strange and self-abuse +Is the initiate fear that wants hard use: +We are yet but young in deed. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. A Heath. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches meeting HECATE +First Witch +Why, how now, Hecate! you look angerly. + +HECATE +Have I not reason, beldams as you are, +Saucy and overbold? How did you dare +To trade and traffic with Macbeth +In riddles and affairs of death; +And I, the mistress of your charms, +The close contriver of all harms, +Was never call'd to bear my part, +Or show the glory of our art? +And, which is worse, all you have done +Hath been but for a wayward son, +Spiteful and wrathful, who, as others do, +Loves for his own ends, not for you. +But make amends now: get you gone, +And at the pit of Acheron +Meet me i' the morning: thither he +Will come to know his destiny: +Your vessels and your spells provide, +Your charms and every thing beside. +I am for the air; this night I'll spend +Unto a dismal and a fatal end: +Great business must be wrought ere noon: +Upon the corner of the moon +There hangs a vaporous drop profound; +I'll catch it ere it come to ground: +And that distill'd by magic sleights +Shall raise such artificial sprites +As by the strength of their illusion +Shall draw him on to his confusion: +He shall spurn fate, scorn death, and bear +He hopes 'bove wisdom, grace and fear: +And you all know, security +Is mortals' chiefest enemy. + +Music and a song within: 'Come away, come away,' & c + +Hark! I am call'd; my little spirit, see, +Sits in a foggy cloud, and stays for me. + +Exit + +First Witch +Come, let's make haste; she'll soon be back again. + +Exeunt + +SCENE VI. Forres. The palace. + +Enter LENNOX and another Lord +LENNOX +My former speeches have but hit your thoughts, +Which can interpret further: only, I say, +Things have been strangely borne. The +gracious Duncan +Was pitied of Macbeth: marry, he was dead: +And the right-valiant Banquo walk'd too late; +Whom, you may say, if't please you, Fleance kill'd, +For Fleance fled: men must not walk too late. +Who cannot want the thought how monstrous +It was for Malcolm and for Donalbain +To kill their gracious father? damned fact! +How it did grieve Macbeth! did he not straight +In pious rage the two delinquents tear, +That were the slaves of drink and thralls of sleep? +Was not that nobly done? Ay, and wisely too; +For 'twould have anger'd any heart alive +To hear the men deny't. So that, I say, +He has borne all things well: and I do think +That had he Duncan's sons under his key-- +As, an't please heaven, he shall not--they +should find +What 'twere to kill a father; so should Fleance. +But, peace! for from broad words and 'cause he fail'd +His presence at the tyrant's feast, I hear +Macduff lives in disgrace: sir, can you tell +Where he bestows himself? + +Lord +The son of Duncan, +From whom this tyrant holds the due of birth +Lives in the English court, and is received +Of the most pious Edward with such grace +That the malevolence of fortune nothing +Takes from his high respect: thither Macduff +Is gone to pray the holy king, upon his aid +To wake Northumberland and warlike Siward: +That, by the help of these--with Him above +To ratify the work--we may again +Give to our tables meat, sleep to our nights, +Free from our feasts and banquets bloody knives, +Do faithful homage and receive free honours: +All which we pine for now: and this report +Hath so exasperate the king that he +Prepares for some attempt of war. + +LENNOX +Sent he to Macduff? + +Lord +He did: and with an absolute 'Sir, not I,' +The cloudy messenger turns me his back, +And hums, as who should say 'You'll rue the time +That clogs me with this answer.' + +LENNOX +And that well might +Advise him to a caution, to hold what distance +His wisdom can provide. Some holy angel +Fly to the court of England and unfold +His message ere he come, that a swift blessing +May soon return to this our suffering country +Under a hand accursed! + +Lord +I'll send my prayers with him. + +Exeunt + + +ACT IV +SCENE I. A cavern. In the middle, a boiling cauldron. + +Thunder. Enter the three Witches +First Witch +Thrice the brinded cat hath mew'd. + +Second Witch +Thrice and once the hedge-pig whined. + +Third Witch +Harpier cries 'Tis time, 'tis time. + +First Witch +Round about the cauldron go; +In the poison'd entrails throw. +Toad, that under cold stone +Days and nights has thirty-one +Swelter'd venom sleeping got, +Boil thou first i' the charmed pot. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn, and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Fillet of a fenny snake, +In the cauldron boil and bake; +Eye of newt and toe of frog, +Wool of bat and tongue of dog, +Adder's fork and blind-worm's sting, +Lizard's leg and owlet's wing, +For a charm of powerful trouble, +Like a hell-broth boil and bubble. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Third Witch +Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf, +Witches' mummy, maw and gulf +Of the ravin'd salt-sea shark, +Root of hemlock digg'd i' the dark, +Liver of blaspheming Jew, +Gall of goat, and slips of yew +Silver'd in the moon's eclipse, +Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips, +Finger of birth-strangled babe +Ditch-deliver'd by a drab, +Make the gruel thick and slab: +Add thereto a tiger's chaudron, +For the ingredients of our cauldron. + +ALL +Double, double toil and trouble; +Fire burn and cauldron bubble. + +Second Witch +Cool it with a baboon's blood, +Then the charm is firm and good. + +Enter HECATE to the other three Witches + +HECATE +O well done! I commend your pains; +And every one shall share i' the gains; +And now about the cauldron sing, +Live elves and fairies in a ring, +Enchanting all that you put in. + +Music and a song: 'Black spirits,' & c + +HECATE retires + +Second Witch +By the pricking of my thumbs, +Something wicked this way comes. +Open, locks, +Whoever knocks! + +Enter MACBETH + +MACBETH +How now, you secret, black, and midnight hags! +What is't you do? + +ALL +A deed without a name. + +MACBETH +I conjure you, by that which you profess, +Howe'er you come to know it, answer me: +Though you untie the winds and let them fight +Against the churches; though the yesty waves +Confound and swallow navigation up; +Though bladed corn be lodged and trees blown down; +Though castles topple on their warders' heads; +Though palaces and pyramids do slope +Their heads to their foundations; though the treasure +Of nature's germens tumble all together, +Even till destruction sicken; answer me +To what I ask you. + +First Witch +Speak. + +Second Witch +Demand. + +Third Witch +We'll answer. + +First Witch +Say, if thou'dst rather hear it from our mouths, +Or from our masters? + +MACBETH +Call 'em; let me see 'em. + +First Witch +Pour in sow's blood, that hath eaten +Her nine farrow; grease that's sweaten +From the murderer's gibbet throw +Into the flame. + +ALL +Come, high or low; +Thyself and office deftly show! + +Thunder. First Apparition: an armed Head + +MACBETH +Tell me, thou unknown power,-- + +First Witch +He knows thy thought: +Hear his speech, but say thou nought. + +First Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! beware Macduff; +Beware the thane of Fife. Dismiss me. Enough. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Whate'er thou art, for thy good caution, thanks; +Thou hast harp'd my fear aright: but one +word more,-- + +First Witch +He will not be commanded: here's another, +More potent than the first. + +Thunder. Second Apparition: A bloody Child + +Second Apparition +Macbeth! Macbeth! Macbeth! + +MACBETH +Had I three ears, I'ld hear thee. + +Second Apparition +Be bloody, bold, and resolute; laugh to scorn +The power of man, for none of woman born +Shall harm Macbeth. + +Descends + +MACBETH +Then live, Macduff: what need I fear of thee? +But yet I'll make assurance double sure, +And take a bond of fate: thou shalt not live; +That I may tell pale-hearted fear it lies, +And sleep in spite of thunder. + +Thunder. Third Apparition: a Child crowned, with a tree in his hand + +What is this +That rises like the issue of a king, +And wears upon his baby-brow the round +And top of sovereignty? + +ALL +Listen, but speak not to't. + +Third Apparition +Be lion-mettled, proud; and take no care +Who chafes, who frets, or where conspirers are: +Macbeth shall never vanquish'd be until +Great Birnam wood to high Dunsinane hill +Shall come against him. + +Descends + +MACBETH +That will never be +Who can impress the forest, bid the tree +Unfix his earth-bound root? Sweet bodements! good! +Rebellion's head, rise never till the wood +Of Birnam rise, and our high-placed Macbeth +Shall live the lease of nature, pay his breath +To time and mortal custom. Yet my heart +Throbs to know one thing: tell me, if your art +Can tell so much: shall Banquo's issue ever +Reign in this kingdom? + +ALL +Seek to know no more. + +MACBETH +I will be satisfied: deny me this, +And an eternal curse fall on you! Let me know. +Why sinks that cauldron? and what noise is this? + +Hautboys + +First Witch +Show! + +Second Witch +Show! + +Third Witch +Show! + +ALL +Show his eyes, and grieve his heart; +Come like shadows, so depart! + +A show of Eight Kings, the last with a glass in his hand; GHOST OF BANQUO following + +MACBETH +Thou art too like the spirit of Banquo: down! +Thy crown does sear mine eye-balls. And thy hair, +Thou other gold-bound brow, is like the first. +A third is like the former. Filthy hags! +Why do you show me this? A fourth! Start, eyes! +What, will the line stretch out to the crack of doom? +Another yet! A seventh! I'll see no more: +And yet the eighth appears, who bears a glass +Which shows me many more; and some I see +That two-fold balls and treble scepters carry: +Horrible sight! Now, I see, 'tis true; +For the blood-bolter'd Banquo smiles upon me, +And points at them for his. + +Apparitions vanish + +What, is this so? + +First Witch +Ay, sir, all this is so: but why +Stands Macbeth thus amazedly? +Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites, +And show the best of our delights: +I'll charm the air to give a sound, +While you perform your antic round: +That this great king may kindly say, +Our duties did his welcome pay. + +Music. The witches dance and then vanish, with HECATE + +MACBETH +Where are they? Gone? Let this pernicious hour +Stand aye accursed in the calendar! +Come in, without there! + +Enter LENNOX + +LENNOX +What's your grace's will? + +MACBETH +Saw you the weird sisters? + +LENNOX +No, my lord. + +MACBETH +Came they not by you? + +LENNOX +No, indeed, my lord. + +MACBETH +Infected be the air whereon they ride; +And damn'd all those that trust them! I did hear +The galloping of horse: who was't came by? + +LENNOX +'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word +Macduff is fled to England. + +MACBETH +Fled to England! + +LENNOX +Ay, my good lord. + +MACBETH +Time, thou anticipatest my dread exploits: +The flighty purpose never is o'ertook +Unless the deed go with it; from this moment +The very firstlings of my heart shall be +The firstlings of my hand. And even now, +To crown my thoughts with acts, be it thought and done: +The castle of Macduff I will surprise; +Seize upon Fife; give to the edge o' the sword +His wife, his babes, and all unfortunate souls +That trace him in his line. No boasting like a fool; +This deed I'll do before this purpose cool. +But no more sights!--Where are these gentlemen? +Come, bring me where they are. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Fife. Macduff's castle. + +Enter LADY MACDUFF, her Son, and ROSS +LADY MACDUFF +What had he done, to make him fly the land? + +ROSS +You must have patience, madam. + +LADY MACDUFF +He had none: +His flight was madness: when our actions do not, +Our fears do make us traitors. + +ROSS +You know not +Whether it was his wisdom or his fear. + +LADY MACDUFF +Wisdom! to leave his wife, to leave his babes, +His mansion and his titles in a place +From whence himself does fly? He loves us not; +He wants the natural touch: for the poor wren, +The most diminutive of birds, will fight, +Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. +All is the fear and nothing is the love; +As little is the wisdom, where the flight +So runs against all reason. + +ROSS +My dearest coz, +I pray you, school yourself: but for your husband, +He is noble, wise, judicious, and best knows +The fits o' the season. I dare not speak +much further; +But cruel are the times, when we are traitors +And do not know ourselves, when we hold rumour +From what we fear, yet know not what we fear, +But float upon a wild and violent sea +Each way and move. I take my leave of you: +Shall not be long but I'll be here again: +Things at the worst will cease, or else climb upward +To what they were before. My pretty cousin, +Blessing upon you! + +LADY MACDUFF +Father'd he is, and yet he's fatherless. + +ROSS +I am so much a fool, should I stay longer, +It would be my disgrace and your discomfort: +I take my leave at once. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Sirrah, your father's dead; +And what will you do now? How will you live? + +Son +As birds do, mother. + +LADY MACDUFF +What, with worms and flies? + +Son +With what I get, I mean; and so do they. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor bird! thou'ldst never fear the net nor lime, +The pitfall nor the gin. + +Son +Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. +My father is not dead, for all your saying. + +LADY MACDUFF +Yes, he is dead; how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +Nay, how will you do for a husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, I can buy me twenty at any market. + +Son +Then you'll buy 'em to sell again. + +LADY MACDUFF +Thou speak'st with all thy wit: and yet, i' faith, +With wit enough for thee. + +Son +Was my father a traitor, mother? + +LADY MACDUFF +Ay, that he was. + +Son +What is a traitor? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, one that swears and lies. + +Son +And be all traitors that do so? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one that does so is a traitor, and must be hanged. + +Son +And must they all be hanged that swear and lie? + +LADY MACDUFF +Every one. + +Son +Who must hang them? + +LADY MACDUFF +Why, the honest men. + +Son +Then the liars and swearers are fools, +for there are liars and swearers enow to beat +the honest men and hang up them. + +LADY MACDUFF +Now, God help thee, poor monkey! +But how wilt thou do for a father? + +Son +If he were dead, you'ld weep for +him: if you would not, it were a good sign +that I should quickly have a new father. + +LADY MACDUFF +Poor prattler, how thou talk'st! + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +Bless you, fair dame! I am not to you known, +Though in your state of honour I am perfect. +I doubt some danger does approach you nearly: +If you will take a homely man's advice, +Be not found here; hence, with your little ones. +To fright you thus, methinks, I am too savage; +To do worse to you were fell cruelty, +Which is too nigh your person. Heaven preserve you! +I dare abide no longer. + +Exit + +LADY MACDUFF +Whither should I fly? +I have done no harm. But I remember now +I am in this earthly world; where to do harm +Is often laudable, to do good sometime +Accounted dangerous folly: why then, alas, +Do I put up that womanly defence, +To say I have done no harm? + +Enter Murderers + +What are these faces? + +First Murderer +Where is your husband? + +LADY MACDUFF +I hope, in no place so unsanctified +Where such as thou mayst find him. + +First Murderer +He's a traitor. + +Son +Thou liest, thou shag-hair'd villain! + +First Murderer +What, you egg! + +Stabbing him + +Young fry of treachery! + +Son +He has kill'd me, mother: +Run away, I pray you! + +Dies + +Exit LADY MACDUFF, crying 'Murder!' Exeunt Murderers, following her + +SCENE III. England. Before the King's palace. + +Enter MALCOLM and MACDUFF +MALCOLM +Let us seek out some desolate shade, and there +Weep our sad bosoms empty. + +MACDUFF +Let us rather +Hold fast the mortal sword, and like good men +Bestride our down-fall'n birthdom: each new morn +New widows howl, new orphans cry, new sorrows +Strike heaven on the face, that it resounds +As if it felt with Scotland and yell'd out +Like syllable of dolour. + +MALCOLM +What I believe I'll wail, +What know believe, and what I can redress, +As I shall find the time to friend, I will. +What you have spoke, it may be so perchance. +This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues, +Was once thought honest: you have loved him well. +He hath not touch'd you yet. I am young; +but something +You may deserve of him through me, and wisdom +To offer up a weak poor innocent lamb +To appease an angry god. + +MACDUFF +I am not treacherous. + +MALCOLM +But Macbeth is. +A good and virtuous nature may recoil +In an imperial charge. But I shall crave +your pardon; +That which you are my thoughts cannot transpose: +Angels are bright still, though the brightest fell; +Though all things foul would wear the brows of grace, +Yet grace must still look so. + +MACDUFF +I have lost my hopes. + +MALCOLM +Perchance even there where I did find my doubts. +Why in that rawness left you wife and child, +Those precious motives, those strong knots of love, +Without leave-taking? I pray you, +Let not my jealousies be your dishonours, +But mine own safeties. You may be rightly just, +Whatever I shall think. + +MACDUFF +Bleed, bleed, poor country! +Great tyranny! lay thou thy basis sure, +For goodness dare not cheque thee: wear thou +thy wrongs; +The title is affeer'd! Fare thee well, lord: +I would not be the villain that thou think'st +For the whole space that's in the tyrant's grasp, +And the rich East to boot. + +MALCOLM +Be not offended: +I speak not as in absolute fear of you. +I think our country sinks beneath the yoke; +It weeps, it bleeds; and each new day a gash +Is added to her wounds: I think withal +There would be hands uplifted in my right; +And here from gracious England have I offer +Of goodly thousands: but, for all this, +When I shall tread upon the tyrant's head, +Or wear it on my sword, yet my poor country +Shall have more vices than it had before, +More suffer and more sundry ways than ever, +By him that shall succeed. + +MACDUFF +What should he be? + +MALCOLM +It is myself I mean: in whom I know +All the particulars of vice so grafted +That, when they shall be open'd, black Macbeth +Will seem as pure as snow, and the poor state +Esteem him as a lamb, being compared +With my confineless harms. + +MACDUFF +Not in the legions +Of horrid hell can come a devil more damn'd +In evils to top Macbeth. + +MALCOLM +I grant him bloody, +Luxurious, avaricious, false, deceitful, +Sudden, malicious, smacking of every sin +That has a name: but there's no bottom, none, +In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters, +Your matrons and your maids, could not fill up +The cistern of my lust, and my desire +All continent impediments would o'erbear +That did oppose my will: better Macbeth +Than such an one to reign. + +MACDUFF +Boundless intemperance +In nature is a tyranny; it hath been +The untimely emptying of the happy throne +And fall of many kings. But fear not yet +To take upon you what is yours: you may +Convey your pleasures in a spacious plenty, +And yet seem cold, the time you may so hoodwink. +We have willing dames enough: there cannot be +That vulture in you, to devour so many +As will to greatness dedicate themselves, +Finding it so inclined. + +MALCOLM +With this there grows +In my most ill-composed affection such +A stanchless avarice that, were I king, +I should cut off the nobles for their lands, +Desire his jewels and this other's house: +And my more-having would be as a sauce +To make me hunger more; that I should forge +Quarrels unjust against the good and loyal, +Destroying them for wealth. + +Othello, the Moore of Venice +Shakespeare homepage | Othello | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Venice. A street. + +Enter RODERIGO and IAGO +RODERIGO +Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly +That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse +As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this. + +IAGO +'Sblood, but you will not hear me: +If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me. + +RODERIGO +Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate. + +IAGO +Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city, +In personal suit to make me his lieutenant, +Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man, +I know my price, I am worth no worse a place: +But he; as loving his own pride and purposes, +Evades them, with a bombast circumstance +Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war; +And, in conclusion, +Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he, +'I have already chose my officer.' +And what was he? +Forsooth, a great arithmetician, +One Michael Cassio, a Florentine, +A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife; +That never set a squadron in the field, +Nor the division of a battle knows +More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric, +Wherein the toged consuls can propose +As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise, +Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election: +And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof +At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds +Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd +By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster, +He, in good time, must his lieutenant be, +And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient. + +RODERIGO +By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman. + +IAGO +Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service, +Preferment goes by letter and affection, +And not by old gradation, where each second +Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself, +Whether I in any just term am affined +To love the Moor. + +RODERIGO +I would not follow him then. + +IAGO +O, sir, content you; +I follow him to serve my turn upon him: +We cannot all be masters, nor all masters +Cannot be truly follow'd. You shall mark +Many a duteous and knee-crooking knave, +That, doting on his own obsequious bondage, +Wears out his time, much like his master's ass, +For nought but provender, and when he's old, cashier'd: +Whip me such honest knaves. Others there are +Who, trimm'd in forms and visages of duty, +Keep yet their hearts attending on themselves, +And, throwing but shows of service on their lords, +Do well thrive by them and when they have lined +their coats +Do themselves homage: these fellows have some soul; +And such a one do I profess myself. For, sir, +It is as sure as you are Roderigo, +Were I the Moor, I would not be Iago: +In following him, I follow but myself; +Heaven is my judge, not I for love and duty, +But seeming so, for my peculiar end: +For when my outward action doth demonstrate +The native act and figure of my heart +In compliment extern, 'tis not long after +But I will wear my heart upon my sleeve +For daws to peck at: I am not what I am. + +RODERIGO +What a full fortune does the thicklips owe +If he can carry't thus! + +IAGO +Call up her father, +Rouse him: make after him, poison his delight, +Proclaim him in the streets; incense her kinsmen, +And, though he in a fertile climate dwell, +Plague him with flies: though that his joy be joy, +Yet throw such changes of vexation on't, +As it may lose some colour. + +RODERIGO +Here is her father's house; I'll call aloud. + +IAGO +Do, with like timorous accent and dire yell +As when, by night and negligence, the fire +Is spied in populous cities. + +RODERIGO +What, ho, Brabantio! Signior Brabantio, ho! + +IAGO +Awake! what, ho, Brabantio! thieves! thieves! thieves! +Look to your house, your daughter and your bags! +Thieves! thieves! + +BRABANTIO appears above, at a window + +BRABANTIO +What is the reason of this terrible summons? +What is the matter there? + +RODERIGO +Signior, is all your family within? + +IAGO +Are your doors lock'd? + +BRABANTIO +Why, wherefore ask you this? + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you're robb'd; for shame, put on +your gown; +Your heart is burst, you have lost half your soul; +Even now, now, very now, an old black ram +Is topping your white ewe. Arise, arise; +Awake the snorting citizens with the bell, +Or else the devil will make a grandsire of you: +Arise, I say. + +BRABANTIO +What, have you lost your wits? + +RODERIGO +Most reverend signior, do you know my voice? + +BRABANTIO +Not I what are you? + +RODERIGO +My name is Roderigo. + +BRABANTIO +The worser welcome: +I have charged thee not to haunt about my doors: +In honest plainness thou hast heard me say +My daughter is not for thee; and now, in madness, +Being full of supper and distempering draughts, +Upon malicious bravery, dost thou come +To start my quiet. + +RODERIGO +Sir, sir, sir,-- + +BRABANTIO +But thou must needs be sure +My spirit and my place have in them power +To make this bitter to thee. + +RODERIGO +Patience, good sir. + +BRABANTIO +What tell'st thou me of robbing? this is Venice; +My house is not a grange. + +RODERIGO +Most grave Brabantio, +In simple and pure soul I come to you. + +IAGO +'Zounds, sir, you are one of those that will not +serve God, if the devil bid you. Because we come to +do you service and you think we are ruffians, you'll +have your daughter covered with a Barbary horse; +you'll have your nephews neigh to you; you'll have +coursers for cousins and gennets for germans. + +BRABANTIO +What profane wretch art thou? + +IAGO +I am one, sir, that comes to tell you your daughter +and the Moor are now making the beast with two backs. + +BRABANTIO +Thou art a villain. + +IAGO +You are--a senator. + +BRABANTIO +This thou shalt answer; I know thee, Roderigo. + +RODERIGO +Sir, I will answer any thing. But, I beseech you, +If't be your pleasure and most wise consent, +As partly I find it is, that your fair daughter, +At this odd-even and dull watch o' the night, +Transported, with no worse nor better guard +But with a knave of common hire, a gondolier, +To the gross clasps of a lascivious Moor-- +If this be known to you and your allowance, +We then have done you bold and saucy wrongs; +But if you know not this, my manners tell me +We have your wrong rebuke. Do not believe +That, from the sense of all civility, +I thus would play and trifle with your reverence: +Your daughter, if you have not given her leave, +I say again, hath made a gross revolt; +Tying her duty, beauty, wit and fortunes +In an extravagant and wheeling stranger +Of here and every where. Straight satisfy yourself: +If she be in her chamber or your house, +Let loose on me the justice of the state +For thus deluding you. + +BRABANTIO +Strike on the tinder, ho! +Give me a taper! call up all my people! +This accident is not unlike my dream: +Belief of it oppresses me already. +Light, I say! light! + +Exit above + +IAGO +Farewell; for I must leave you: +It seems not meet, nor wholesome to my place, +To be produced--as, if I stay, I shall-- +Against the Moor: for, I do know, the state, +However this may gall him with some cheque, +Cannot with safety cast him, for he's embark'd +With such loud reason to the Cyprus wars, +Which even now stand in act, that, for their souls, +Another of his fathom they have none, +To lead their business: in which regard, +Though I do hate him as I do hell-pains. +Yet, for necessity of present life, +I must show out a flag and sign of love, +Which is indeed but sign. That you shall surely find him, +Lead to the Sagittary the raised search; +And there will I be with him. So, farewell. + +Exit + +Enter, below, BRABANTIO, and Servants with torches + +BRABANTIO +It is too true an evil: gone she is; +And what's to come of my despised time +Is nought but bitterness. Now, Roderigo, +Where didst thou see her? O unhappy girl! +With the Moor, say'st thou? Who would be a father! +How didst thou know 'twas she? O she deceives me +Past thought! What said she to you? Get more tapers: +Raise all my kindred. Are they married, think you? + +RODERIGO +Truly, I think they are. + +BRABANTIO +O heaven! How got she out? O treason of the blood! +Fathers, from hence trust not your daughters' minds +By what you see them act. Is there not charms +By which the property of youth and maidhood +May be abused? Have you not read, Roderigo, +Of some such thing? + +RODERIGO +Yes, sir, I have indeed. + +BRABANTIO +Call up my brother. O, would you had had her! +Some one way, some another. Do you know +Where we may apprehend her and the Moor? + +RODERIGO +I think I can discover him, if you please, +To get good guard and go along with me. + +BRABANTIO +Pray you, lead on. At every house I'll call; +I may command at most. Get weapons, ho! +And raise some special officers of night. +On, good Roderigo: I'll deserve your pains. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. Another street. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Attendants with torches +IAGO +Though in the trade of war I have slain men, +Yet do I hold it very stuff o' the conscience +To do no contrived murder: I lack iniquity +Sometimes to do me service: nine or ten times +I had thought to have yerk'd him here under the ribs. + +OTHELLO +'Tis better as it is. + +IAGO +Nay, but he prated, +And spoke such scurvy and provoking terms +Against your honour +That, with the little godliness I have, +I did full hard forbear him. But, I pray you, sir, +Are you fast married? Be assured of this, +That the magnifico is much beloved, +And hath in his effect a voice potential +As double as the duke's: he will divorce you; +Or put upon you what restraint and grievance +The law, with all his might to enforce it on, +Will give him cable. + +OTHELLO +Let him do his spite: +My services which I have done the signiory +Shall out-tongue his complaints. 'Tis yet to know,-- +Which, when I know that boasting is an honour, +I shall promulgate--I fetch my life and being +From men of royal siege, and my demerits +May speak unbonneted to as proud a fortune +As this that I have reach'd: for know, Iago, +But that I love the gentle Desdemona, +I would not my unhoused free condition +Put into circumscription and confine +For the sea's worth. But, look! what lights come yond? + +IAGO +Those are the raised father and his friends: +You were best go in. + +OTHELLO +Not I I must be found: +My parts, my title and my perfect soul +Shall manifest me rightly. Is it they? + +IAGO +By Janus, I think no. + +Enter CASSIO, and certain Officers with torches + +OTHELLO +The servants of the duke, and my lieutenant. +The goodness of the night upon you, friends! +What is the news? + +CASSIO +The duke does greet you, general, +And he requires your haste-post-haste appearance, +Even on the instant. + +OTHELLO +What is the matter, think you? + +CASSIO +Something from Cyprus as I may divine: +It is a business of some heat: the galleys +Have sent a dozen sequent messengers +This very night at one another's heels, +And many of the consuls, raised and met, +Are at the duke's already: you have been +hotly call'd for; +When, being not at your lodging to be found, +The senate hath sent about three several guests +To search you out. + +OTHELLO +'Tis well I am found by you. +I will but spend a word here in the house, +And go with you. + +Exit + +CASSIO +Ancient, what makes he here? + +IAGO +'Faith, he to-night hath boarded a land carack: +If it prove lawful prize, he's made for ever. + +CASSIO +I do not understand. + +IAGO +He's married. + +CASSIO +To who? + +Re-enter OTHELLO + +IAGO +Marry, to--Come, captain, will you go? + +OTHELLO +Have with you. + +CASSIO +Here comes another troop to seek for you. + +IAGO +It is Brabantio. General, be advised; +He comes to bad intent. + +Enter BRABANTIO, RODERIGO, and Officers with torches and weapons + +OTHELLO +Holla! stand there! + +RODERIGO +Signior, it is the Moor. + +BRABANTIO +Down with him, thief! + +They draw on both sides + +IAGO +You, Roderigo! come, sir, I am for you. + +OTHELLO +Keep up your bright swords, for the dew will rust them. +Good signior, you shall more command with years +Than with your weapons. + +BRABANTIO +O thou foul thief, where hast thou stow'd my daughter? +Damn'd as thou art, thou hast enchanted her; +For I'll refer me to all things of sense, +If she in chains of magic were not bound, +Whether a maid so tender, fair and happy, +So opposite to marriage that she shunned +The wealthy curled darlings of our nation, +Would ever have, to incur a general mock, +Run from her guardage to the sooty bosom +Of such a thing as thou, to fear, not to delight. +Judge me the world, if 'tis not gross in sense +That thou hast practised on her with foul charms, +Abused her delicate youth with drugs or minerals +That weaken motion: I'll have't disputed on; +'Tis probable and palpable to thinking. +I therefore apprehend and do attach thee +For an abuser of the world, a practiser +Of arts inhibited and out of warrant. +Lay hold upon him: if he do resist, +Subdue him at his peril. + +OTHELLO +Hold your hands, +Both you of my inclining, and the rest: +Were it my cue to fight, I should have known it +Without a prompter. Where will you that I go +To answer this your charge? + +BRABANTIO +To prison, till fit time +Of law and course of direct session +Call thee to answer. + +OTHELLO +What if I do obey? +How may the duke be therewith satisfied, +Whose messengers are here about my side, +Upon some present business of the state +To bring me to him? + +First Officer +'Tis true, most worthy signior; +The duke's in council and your noble self, +I am sure, is sent for. + +BRABANTIO +How! the duke in council! +In this time of the night! Bring him away: +Mine's not an idle cause: the duke himself, +Or any of my brothers of the state, +Cannot but feel this wrong as 'twere their own; +For if such actions may have passage free, +Bond-slaves and pagans shall our statesmen be. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A council-chamber. + +The DUKE and Senators sitting at a table; Officers attending +DUKE OF VENICE +There is no composition in these news +That gives them credit. + +First Senator +Indeed, they are disproportion'd; +My letters say a hundred and seven galleys. + +DUKE OF VENICE +And mine, a hundred and forty. + +Second Senator +And mine, two hundred: +But though they jump not on a just account,-- +As in these cases, where the aim reports, +'Tis oft with difference--yet do they all confirm +A Turkish fleet, and bearing up to Cyprus. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, it is possible enough to judgment: +I do not so secure me in the error, +But the main article I do approve +In fearful sense. + +Sailor +[Within] What, ho! what, ho! what, ho! + +First Officer +A messenger from the galleys. + +Enter a Sailor + +DUKE OF VENICE +Now, what's the business? + +Sailor +The Turkish preparation makes for Rhodes; +So was I bid report here to the state +By Signior Angelo. + +DUKE OF VENICE +How say you by this change? + +First Senator +This cannot be, +By no assay of reason: 'tis a pageant, +To keep us in false gaze. When we consider +The importancy of Cyprus to the Turk, +And let ourselves again but understand, +That as it more concerns the Turk than Rhodes, +So may he with more facile question bear it, +For that it stands not in such warlike brace, +But altogether lacks the abilities +That Rhodes is dress'd in: if we make thought of this, +We must not think the Turk is so unskilful +To leave that latest which concerns him first, +Neglecting an attempt of ease and gain, +To wake and wage a danger profitless. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Nay, in all confidence, he's not for Rhodes. + +First Officer +Here is more news. + +Enter a Messenger + +Messenger +The Ottomites, reverend and gracious, +Steering with due course towards the isle of Rhodes, +Have there injointed them with an after fleet. + +First Senator +Ay, so I thought. How many, as you guess? + +Messenger +Of thirty sail: and now they do restem +Their backward course, bearing with frank appearance +Their purposes toward Cyprus. Signior Montano, +Your trusty and most valiant servitor, +With his free duty recommends you thus, +And prays you to believe him. + +DUKE OF VENICE +'Tis certain, then, for Cyprus. +Marcus Luccicos, is not he in town? + +First Senator +He's now in Florence. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Write from us to him; post-post-haste dispatch. + +First Senator +Here comes Brabantio and the valiant Moor. + +Enter BRABANTIO, OTHELLO, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Officers + +DUKE OF VENICE +Valiant Othello, we must straight employ you +Against the general enemy Ottoman. + +To BRABANTIO + +I did not see you; welcome, gentle signior; +We lack'd your counsel and your help tonight. + +BRABANTIO +So did I yours. Good your grace, pardon me; +Neither my place nor aught I heard of business +Hath raised me from my bed, nor doth the general care +Take hold on me, for my particular grief +Is of so flood-gate and o'erbearing nature +That it engluts and swallows other sorrows +And it is still itself. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Why, what's the matter? + +BRABANTIO +My daughter! O, my daughter! + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +Dead? + +BRABANTIO +Ay, to me; +She is abused, stol'n from me, and corrupted +By spells and medicines bought of mountebanks; +For nature so preposterously to err, +Being not deficient, blind, or lame of sense, +Sans witchcraft could not. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Whoe'er he be that in this foul proceeding +Hath thus beguiled your daughter of herself +And you of her, the bloody book of law +You shall yourself read in the bitter letter +After your own sense, yea, though our proper son +Stood in your action. + +BRABANTIO +Humbly I thank your grace. +Here is the man, this Moor, whom now, it seems, +Your special mandate for the state-affairs +Hath hither brought. + +DUKE OF VENICE Senator +We are very sorry for't. + +DUKE OF VENICE +[To OTHELLO] What, in your own part, can you say to this? + +BRABANTIO +Nothing, but this is so. + +OTHELLO +Most potent, grave, and reverend signiors, +My very noble and approved good masters, +That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, +It is most true; true, I have married her: +The very head and front of my offending +Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my speech, +And little bless'd with the soft phrase of peace: +For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith, +Till now some nine moons wasted, they have used +Their dearest action in the tented field, +And little of this great world can I speak, +More than pertains to feats of broil and battle, +And therefore little shall I grace my cause +In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious patience, +I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver +Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what charms, +What conjuration and what mighty magic, +For such proceeding I am charged withal, +I won his daughter. + +BRABANTIO +A maiden never bold; +Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion +Blush'd at herself; and she, in spite of nature, +Of years, of country, credit, every thing, +To fall in love with what she fear'd to look on! +It is a judgment maim'd and most imperfect +That will confess perfection so could err +Against all rules of nature, and must be driven +To find out practises of cunning hell, +Why this should be. I therefore vouch again +That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood, +Or with some dram conjured to this effect, +He wrought upon her. + +DUKE OF VENICE +To vouch this, is no proof, +Without more wider and more overt test +Than these thin habits and poor likelihoods +Of modern seeming do prefer against him. + +First Senator +But, Othello, speak: +Did you by indirect and forced courses +Subdue and poison this young maid's affections? +Or came it by request and such fair question +As soul to soul affordeth? + +OTHELLO +I do beseech you, +Send for the lady to the Sagittary, +And let her speak of me before her father: +If you do find me foul in her report, +The trust, the office I do hold of you, +Not only take away, but let your sentence +Even fall upon my life. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Fetch Desdemona hither. + +OTHELLO +Ancient, conduct them: you best know the place. + +Exeunt IAGO and Attendants + +And, till she come, as truly as to heaven +I do confess the vices of my blood, +So justly to your grave ears I'll present +How I did thrive in this fair lady's love, +And she in mine. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Say it, Othello. + +OTHELLO +Her father loved me; oft invited me; +Still question'd me the story of my life, +From year to year, the battles, sieges, fortunes, +That I have passed. +I ran it through, even from my boyish days, +To the very moment that he bade me tell it; +Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances, +Of moving accidents by flood and field +Of hair-breadth scapes i' the imminent deadly breach, +Of being taken by the insolent foe +And sold to slavery, of my redemption thence +And portance in my travels' history: +Wherein of antres vast and deserts idle, +Rough quarries, rocks and hills whose heads touch heaven +It was my hint to speak,--such was the process; +And of the Cannibals that each other eat, +The Anthropophagi and men whose heads +Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear +Would Desdemona seriously incline: +But still the house-affairs would draw her thence: +Which ever as she could with haste dispatch, +She'ld come again, and with a greedy ear +Devour up my discourse: which I observing, +Took once a pliant hour, and found good means +To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart +That I would all my pilgrimage dilate, +Whereof by parcels she had something heard, +But not intentively: I did consent, +And often did beguile her of her tears, +When I did speak of some distressful stroke +That my youth suffer'd. My story being done, +She gave me for my pains a world of sighs: +She swore, in faith, twas strange, 'twas passing strange, +'Twas pitiful, 'twas wondrous pitiful: +She wish'd she had not heard it, yet she wish'd +That heaven had made her such a man: she thank'd me, +And bade me, if I had a friend that loved her, +I should but teach him how to tell my story. +And that would woo her. Upon this hint I spake: +She loved me for the dangers I had pass'd, +And I loved her that she did pity them. +This only is the witchcraft I have used: +Here comes the lady; let her witness it. + +Enter DESDEMONA, IAGO, and Attendants + +DUKE OF VENICE +I think this tale would win my daughter too. +Good Brabantio, +Take up this mangled matter at the best: +Men do their broken weapons rather use +Than their bare hands. + +BRABANTIO +I pray you, hear her speak: +If she confess that she was half the wooer, +Destruction on my head, if my bad blame +Light on the man! Come hither, gentle mistress: +Do you perceive in all this noble company +Where most you owe obedience? + +DESDEMONA +My noble father, +I do perceive here a divided duty: +To you I am bound for life and education; +My life and education both do learn me +How to respect you; you are the lord of duty; +I am hitherto your daughter: but here's my husband, +And so much duty as my mother show'd +To you, preferring you before her father, +So much I challenge that I may profess +Due to the Moor my lord. + +BRABANTIO +God be wi' you! I have done. +Please it your grace, on to the state-affairs: +I had rather to adopt a child than get it. +Come hither, Moor: +I here do give thee that with all my heart +Which, but thou hast already, with all my heart +I would keep from thee. For your sake, jewel, +I am glad at soul I have no other child: +For thy escape would teach me tyranny, +To hang clogs on them. I have done, my lord. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let me speak like yourself, and lay a sentence, +Which, as a grise or step, may help these lovers +Into your favour. +When remedies are past, the griefs are ended +By seeing the worst, which late on hopes depended. +To mourn a mischief that is past and gone +Is the next way to draw new mischief on. +What cannot be preserved when fortune takes +Patience her injury a mockery makes. +The robb'd that smiles steals something from the thief; +He robs himself that spends a bootless grief. + +BRABANTIO +So let the Turk of Cyprus us beguile; +We lose it not, so long as we can smile. +He bears the sentence well that nothing bears +But the free comfort which from thence he hears, +But he bears both the sentence and the sorrow +That, to pay grief, must of poor patience borrow. +These sentences, to sugar, or to gall, +Being strong on both sides, are equivocal: +But words are words; I never yet did hear +That the bruised heart was pierced through the ear. +I humbly beseech you, proceed to the affairs of state. + +DUKE OF VENICE +The Turk with a most mighty preparation makes for +Cyprus. Othello, the fortitude of the place is best +known to you; and though we have there a substitute +of most allowed sufficiency, yet opinion, a +sovereign mistress of effects, throws a more safer +voice on you: you must therefore be content to +slubber the gloss of your new fortunes with this +more stubborn and boisterous expedition. + +OTHELLO +The tyrant custom, most grave senators, +Hath made the flinty and steel couch of war +My thrice-driven bed of down: I do agnise +A natural and prompt alacrity +I find in hardness, and do undertake +These present wars against the Ottomites. +Most humbly therefore bending to your state, +I crave fit disposition for my wife. +Due reference of place and exhibition, +With such accommodation and besort +As levels with her breeding. + +DUKE OF VENICE +If you please, +Be't at her father's. + +BRABANTIO +I'll not have it so. + +OTHELLO +Nor I. + +DESDEMONA +Nor I; I would not there reside, +To put my father in impatient thoughts +By being in his eye. Most gracious duke, +To my unfolding lend your prosperous ear; +And let me find a charter in your voice, +To assist my simpleness. + +DUKE OF VENICE +What would You, Desdemona? + +DESDEMONA +That I did love the Moor to live with him, +My downright violence and storm of fortunes +May trumpet to the world: my heart's subdued +Even to the very quality of my lord: +I saw Othello's visage in his mind, +And to his honour and his valiant parts +Did I my soul and fortunes consecrate. +So that, dear lords, if I be left behind, +A moth of peace, and he go to the war, +The rites for which I love him are bereft me, +And I a heavy interim shall support +By his dear absence. Let me go with him. + +OTHELLO +Let her have your voices. +Vouch with me, heaven, I therefore beg it not, +To please the palate of my appetite, +Nor to comply with heat--the young affects +In me defunct--and proper satisfaction. +But to be free and bounteous to her mind: +And heaven defend your good souls, that you think +I will your serious and great business scant +For she is with me: no, when light-wing'd toys +Of feather'd Cupid seal with wanton dullness +My speculative and officed instruments, +That my disports corrupt and taint my business, +Let housewives make a skillet of my helm, +And all indign and base adversities +Make head against my estimation! + +DUKE OF VENICE +Be it as you shall privately determine, +Either for her stay or going: the affair cries haste, +And speed must answer it. + +First Senator +You must away to-night. + +OTHELLO +With all my heart. + +DUKE OF VENICE +At nine i' the morning here we'll meet again. +Othello, leave some officer behind, +And he shall our commission bring to you; +With such things else of quality and respect +As doth import you. + +OTHELLO +So please your grace, my ancient; +A man he is of honest and trust: +To his conveyance I assign my wife, +With what else needful your good grace shall think +To be sent after me. + +DUKE OF VENICE +Let it be so. +Good night to every one. + +To BRABANTIO + +And, noble signior, +If virtue no delighted beauty lack, +Your son-in-law is far more fair than black. + +First Senator +Adieu, brave Moor, use Desdemona well. + +BRABANTIO +Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see: +She has deceived her father, and may thee. + +Exeunt DUKE OF VENICE, Senators, Officers, & c + +OTHELLO +My life upon her faith! Honest Iago, +My Desdemona must I leave to thee: +I prithee, let thy wife attend on her: +And bring them after in the best advantage. +Come, Desdemona: I have but an hour +Of love, of worldly matters and direction, +To spend with thee: we must obey the time. + +Exeunt OTHELLO and DESDEMONA + +RODERIGO +Iago,-- + +IAGO +What say'st thou, noble heart? + +RODERIGO +What will I do, thinkest thou? + +IAGO +Why, go to bed, and sleep. + +RODERIGO +I will incontinently drown myself. + +IAGO +If thou dost, I shall never love thee after. Why, +thou silly gentleman! + +RODERIGO +It is silliness to live when to live is torment; and +then have we a prescription to die when death is our physician. + +IAGO +O villainous! I have looked upon the world for four +times seven years; and since I could distinguish +betwixt a benefit and an injury, I never found man +that knew how to love himself. Ere I would say, I +would drown myself for the love of a guinea-hen, I +would change my humanity with a baboon. + +RODERIGO +What should I do? I confess it is my shame to be so +fond; but it is not in my virtue to amend it. + +IAGO +Virtue! a fig! 'tis in ourselves that we are thus +or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which +our wills are gardeners: so that if we will plant +nettles, or sow lettuce, set hyssop and weed up +thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs, or +distract it with many, either to have it sterile +with idleness, or manured with industry, why, the +power and corrigible authority of this lies in our +wills. If the balance of our lives had not one +scale of reason to poise another of sensuality, the +blood and baseness of our natures would conduct us +to most preposterous conclusions: but we have +reason to cool our raging motions, our carnal +stings, our unbitted lusts, whereof I take this that +you call love to be a sect or scion. + +RODERIGO +It cannot be. + +IAGO +It is merely a lust of the blood and a permission of +the will. Come, be a man. Drown thyself! drown +cats and blind puppies. I have professed me thy +friend and I confess me knit to thy deserving with +cables of perdurable toughness; I could never +better stead thee than now. Put money in thy +purse; follow thou the wars; defeat thy favour with +an usurped beard; I say, put money in thy purse. It +cannot be that Desdemona should long continue her +love to the Moor,-- put money in thy purse,--nor he +his to her: it was a violent commencement, and thou +shalt see an answerable sequestration:--put but +money in thy purse. These Moors are changeable in +their wills: fill thy purse with money:--the food +that to him now is as luscious as locusts, shall be +to him shortly as bitter as coloquintida. She must +change for youth: when she is sated with his body, +she will find the error of her choice: she must +have change, she must: therefore put money in thy +purse. If thou wilt needs damn thyself, do it a +more delicate way than drowning. Make all the money +thou canst: if sanctimony and a frail vow betwixt +an erring barbarian and a supersubtle Venetian not +too hard for my wits and all the tribe of hell, thou +shalt enjoy her; therefore make money. A pox of +drowning thyself! it is clean out of the way: seek +thou rather to be hanged in compassing thy joy than +to be drowned and go without her. + +RODERIGO +Wilt thou be fast to my hopes, if I depend on +the issue? + +IAGO +Thou art sure of me:--go, make money:--I have told +thee often, and I re-tell thee again and again, I +hate the Moor: my cause is hearted; thine hath no +less reason. Let us be conjunctive in our revenge +against him: if thou canst cuckold him, thou dost +thyself a pleasure, me a sport. There are many +events in the womb of time which will be delivered. +Traverse! go, provide thy money. We will have more +of this to-morrow. Adieu. + +RODERIGO +Where shall we meet i' the morning? + +IAGO +At my lodging. + +RODERIGO +I'll be with thee betimes. + +IAGO +Go to; farewell. Do you hear, Roderigo? + +RODERIGO +What say you? + +IAGO +No more of drowning, do you hear? + +RODERIGO +I am changed: I'll go sell all my land. + +Exit + +IAGO +Thus do I ever make my fool my purse: +For I mine own gain'd knowledge should profane, +If I would time expend with such a snipe. +But for my sport and profit. I hate the Moor: +And it is thought abroad, that 'twixt my sheets +He has done my office: I know not if't be true; +But I, for mere suspicion in that kind, +Will do as if for surety. He holds me well; +The better shall my purpose work on him. +Cassio's a proper man: let me see now: +To get his place and to plume up my will +In double knavery--How, how? Let's see:-- +After some time, to abuse Othello's ear +That he is too familiar with his wife. +He hath a person and a smooth dispose +To be suspected, framed to make women false. +The Moor is of a free and open nature, +That thinks men honest that but seem to be so, +And will as tenderly be led by the nose +As asses are. +I have't. It is engender'd. Hell and night +Must bring this monstrous birth to the world's light. + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Sea-port in Cyprus. An open place near the quay. + +Enter MONTANO and two Gentlemen +MONTANO +What from the cape can you discern at sea? + +First Gentleman +Nothing at all: it is a highwrought flood; +I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main, +Descry a sail. + +MONTANO +Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land; +A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements: +If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea, +What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them, +Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this? + +Second Gentleman +A segregation of the Turkish fleet: +For do but stand upon the foaming shore, +The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds; +The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane, +seems to cast water on the burning bear, +And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole: +I never did like molestation view +On the enchafed flood. + +MONTANO +If that the Turkish fleet +Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd: +It is impossible they bear it out. + +Enter a third Gentleman + +Third Gentleman +News, lads! our wars are done. +The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks, +That their designment halts: a noble ship of Venice +Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance +On most part of their fleet. + +MONTANO +How! is this true? + +Third Gentleman +The ship is here put in, +A Veronesa; Michael Cassio, +Lieutenant to the warlike Moor Othello, +Is come on shore: the Moor himself at sea, +And is in full commission here for Cyprus. + +MONTANO +I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor. + +Third Gentleman +But this same Cassio, though he speak of comfort +Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly, +And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted +With foul and violent tempest. + +MONTANO +Pray heavens he be; +For I have served him, and the man commands +Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho! +As well to see the vessel that's come in +As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello, +Even till we make the main and the aerial blue +An indistinct regard. + +Third Gentleman +Come, let's do so: +For every minute is expectancy +Of more arrivance. + +Enter CASSIO + +CASSIO +Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle, +That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens +Give him defence against the elements, +For I have lost us him on a dangerous sea. + +MONTANO +Is he well shipp'd? + +CASSIO +His bark is stoutly timber'd, his pilot +Of very expert and approved allowance; +Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death, +Stand in bold cure. + +A cry within 'A sail, a sail, a sail!' + +Enter a fourth Gentleman + +CASSIO +What noise? + +Fourth Gentleman +The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea +Stand ranks of people, and they cry 'A sail!' + +CASSIO +My hopes do shape him for the governor. + +Guns heard + +Second Gentlemen +They do discharge their shot of courtesy: +Our friends at least. + +CASSIO +I pray you, sir, go forth, +And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived. + +Second Gentleman +I shall. + +Exit + +MONTANO +But, good lieutenant, is your general wived? + +CASSIO +Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid +That paragons description and wild fame; +One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens, +And in the essential vesture of creation +Does tire the ingener. + +Re-enter second Gentleman + +How now! who has put in? + +Second Gentleman +'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general. + +CASSIO +Has had most favourable and happy speed: +Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds, +The gutter'd rocks and congregated sands-- +Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,-- +As having sense of beauty, do omit +Their mortal natures, letting go safely by +The divine Desdemona. + +MONTANO +What is she? + +CASSIO +She that I spake of, our great captain's captain, +Left in the conduct of the bold Iago, +Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts +A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard, +And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath, +That he may bless this bay with his tall ship, +Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms, +Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits +And bring all Cyprus comfort! + +Enter DESDEMONA, EMILIA, IAGO, RODERIGO, and Attendants + +O, behold, +The riches of the ship is come on shore! +Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees. +Hail to thee, lady! and the grace of heaven, +Before, behind thee, and on every hand, +Enwheel thee round! + +DESDEMONA +I thank you, valiant Cassio. +What tidings can you tell me of my lord? + +CASSIO +He is not yet arrived: nor know I aught +But that he's well and will be shortly here. + +DESDEMONA +O, but I fear--How lost you company? + +CASSIO +The great contention of the sea and skies +Parted our fellowship--But, hark! a sail. + +Within 'A sail, a sail!' Guns heard + +Second Gentleman +They give their greeting to the citadel; +This likewise is a friend. + +CASSIO +See for the news. + +Exit Gentleman + +Good ancient, you are welcome. + +To EMILIA + +Welcome, mistress. +Let it not gall your patience, good Iago, +That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding +That gives me this bold show of courtesy. + +Kissing her + +IAGO +Sir, would she give you so much of her lips +As of her tongue she oft bestows on me, +You'll have enough. + +DESDEMONA +Alas, she has no speech. + +IAGO +In faith, too much; +I find it still, when I have list to sleep: +Marry, before your ladyship, I grant, +She puts her tongue a little in her heart, +And chides with thinking. + +EMILIA +You have little cause to say so. + +IAGO +Come on, come on; you are pictures out of doors, +Bells in your parlors, wild-cats in your kitchens, +Saints m your injuries, devils being offended, +Players in your housewifery, and housewives' in your beds. + +DESDEMONA +O, fie upon thee, slanderer! + +IAGO +Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk: +You rise to play and go to bed to work. + +EMILIA +You shall not write my praise. + +IAGO +No, let me not. + +DESDEMONA +What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst +praise me? + +IAGO +O gentle lady, do not put me to't; +For I am nothing, if not critical. + +DESDEMONA +Come on assay. There's one gone to the harbour? + +IAGO +Ay, madam. + +DESDEMONA +I am not merry; but I do beguile +The thing I am, by seeming otherwise. +Come, how wouldst thou praise me? + +IAGO +I am about it; but indeed my invention +Comes from my pate as birdlime does from frize; +It plucks out brains and all: but my Muse labours, +And thus she is deliver'd. +If she be fair and wise, fairness and wit, +The one's for use, the other useth it. + +DESDEMONA +Well praised! How if she be black and witty? + +IAGO +If she be black, and thereto have a wit, +She'll find a white that shall her blackness fit. + +DESDEMONA +Worse and worse. + +EMILIA +How if fair and foolish? + +IAGO +She never yet was foolish that was fair; +For even her folly help'd her to an heir. + +DESDEMONA +These are old fond paradoxes to make fools laugh i' +the alehouse. What miserable praise hast thou for +her that's foul and foolish? + +IAGO +There's none so foul and foolish thereunto, +But does foul pranks which fair and wise ones do. + +DESDEMONA +O heavy ignorance! thou praisest the worst best. +But what praise couldst thou bestow on a deserving +woman indeed, one that, in the authority of her +merit, did justly put on the vouch of very malice itself? + +IAGO +She that was ever fair and never proud, +Had tongue at will and yet was never loud, +Never lack'd gold and yet went never gay, +Fled from her wish and yet said 'Now I may,' +She that being anger'd, her revenge being nigh, +Bade her wrong stay and her displeasure fly, +She that in wisdom never was so frail +To change the cod's head for the salmon's tail; +She that could think and ne'er disclose her mind, +See suitors following and not look behind, +She was a wight, if ever such wight were,-- + +DESDEMONA +To do what? + +IAGO +To suckle fools and chronicle small beer. + +DESDEMONA +O most lame and impotent conclusion! Do not learn +of him, Emilia, though he be thy husband. How say +you, Cassio? is he not a most profane and liberal +counsellor? + +CASSIO +He speaks home, madam: You may relish him more in +the soldier than in the scholar. + +IAGO +[Aside] He takes her by the palm: ay, well said, +whisper: with as little a web as this will I +ensnare as great a fly as Cassio. Ay, smile upon +her, do; I will gyve thee in thine own courtship. +You say true; 'tis so, indeed: if such tricks as +these strip you out of your lieutenantry, it had +been better you had not kissed your three fingers so +oft, which now again you are most apt to play the +sir in. Very good; well kissed! an excellent +courtesy! 'tis so, indeed. Yet again your fingers +to your lips? would they were clyster-pipes for your sake! + +Trumpet within + +The Moor! I know his trumpet. + +CASSIO +'Tis truly so. + +DESDEMONA +Let's meet him and receive him. + +CASSIO +Lo, where he comes! + +Enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +O my fair warrior! + +DESDEMONA +My dear Othello! + +OTHELLO +It gives me wonder great as my content +To see you here before me. O my soul's joy! +If after every tempest come such calms, +May the winds blow till they have waken'd death! +And let the labouring bark climb hills of seas +Olympus-high and duck again as low +As hell's from heaven! If it were now to die, +'Twere now to be most happy; for, I fear, +My soul hath her content so absolute +That not another comfort like to this +Succeeds in unknown fate. + +DESDEMONA +The heavens forbid +But that our loves and comforts should increase, +Even as our days do grow! + +OTHELLO +Amen to that, sweet powers! +I cannot speak enough of this content; +It stops me here; it is too much of joy: +And this, and this, the greatest discords be + +Kissing her + +That e'er our hearts shall make! + +IAGO +[Aside] O, you are well tuned now! +But I'll set down the pegs that make this music, +As honest as I am. + +OTHELLO +Come, let us to the castle. +News, friends; our wars are done, the Turks +are drown'd. +How does my old acquaintance of this isle? +Honey, you shall be well desired in Cyprus; +I have found great love amongst them. O my sweet, +I prattle out of fashion, and I dote +In mine own comforts. I prithee, good Iago, +Go to the bay and disembark my coffers: +Bring thou the master to the citadel; +He is a good one, and his worthiness +Does challenge much respect. Come, Desdemona, +Once more, well met at Cyprus. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +IAGO +Do thou meet me presently at the harbour. Come +hither. If thou be'st valiant,-- as, they say, base +men being in love have then a nobility in their +natures more than is native to them--list me. The +lieutenant tonight watches on the court of +guard:--first, I must tell thee this--Desdemona is +directly in love with him. + +RODERIGO +With him! why, 'tis not possible. + +IAGO +Lay thy finger thus, and let thy soul be instructed. +Mark me with what violence she first loved the Moor, +but for bragging and telling her fantastical lies: +and will she love him still for prating? let not +thy discreet heart think it. Her eye must be fed; +and what delight shall she have to look on the +devil? When the blood is made dull with the act of +sport, there should be, again to inflame it and to +give satiety a fresh appetite, loveliness in favour, +sympathy in years, manners and beauties; all which +the Moor is defective in: now, for want of these +required conveniences, her delicate tenderness will +find itself abused, begin to heave the gorge, +disrelish and abhor the Moor; very nature will +instruct her in it and compel her to some second +choice. Now, sir, this granted,--as it is a most +pregnant and unforced position--who stands so +eminent in the degree of this fortune as Cassio +does? a knave very voluble; no further +conscionable than in putting on the mere form of +civil and humane seeming, for the better compassing +of his salt and most hidden loose affection? why, +none; why, none: a slipper and subtle knave, a +finder of occasions, that has an eye can stamp and +counterfeit advantages, though true advantage never +present itself; a devilish knave. Besides, the +knave is handsome, young, and hath all those +requisites in him that folly and green minds look +after: a pestilent complete knave; and the woman +hath found him already. + +RODERIGO +I cannot believe that in her; she's full of +most blessed condition. + +IAGO +Blessed fig's-end! the wine she drinks is made of +grapes: if she had been blessed, she would never +have loved the Moor. Blessed pudding! Didst thou +not see her paddle with the palm of his hand? didst +not mark that? + +RODERIGO +Yes, that I did; but that was but courtesy. + +IAGO +Lechery, by this hand; an index and obscure prologue +to the history of lust and foul thoughts. They met +so near with their lips that their breaths embraced +together. Villanous thoughts, Roderigo! when these +mutualities so marshal the way, hard at hand comes +the master and main exercise, the incorporate +conclusion, Pish! But, sir, be you ruled by me: I +have brought you from Venice. Watch you to-night; +for the command, I'll lay't upon you. Cassio knows +you not. I'll not be far from you: do you find +some occasion to anger Cassio, either by speaking +too loud, or tainting his discipline; or from what +other course you please, which the time shall more +favourably minister. + +RODERIGO +Well. + +IAGO +Sir, he is rash and very sudden in choler, and haply +may strike at you: provoke him, that he may; for +even out of that will I cause these of Cyprus to +mutiny; whose qualification shall come into no true +taste again but by the displanting of Cassio. So +shall you have a shorter journey to your desires by +the means I shall then have to prefer them; and the +impediment most profitably removed, without the +which there were no expectation of our prosperity. + +RODERIGO +I will do this, if I can bring it to any +opportunity. + +IAGO +I warrant thee. Meet me by and by at the citadel: +I must fetch his necessaries ashore. Farewell. + +RODERIGO +Adieu. + +Exit + +IAGO +That Cassio loves her, I do well believe it; +That she loves him, 'tis apt and of great credit: +The Moor, howbeit that I endure him not, +Is of a constant, loving, noble nature, +And I dare think he'll prove to Desdemona +A most dear husband. Now, I do love her too; +Not out of absolute lust, though peradventure +I stand accountant for as great a sin, +But partly led to diet my revenge, +For that I do suspect the lusty Moor +Hath leap'd into my seat; the thought whereof +Doth, like a poisonous mineral, gnaw my inwards; +And nothing can or shall content my soul +Till I am even'd with him, wife for wife, +Or failing so, yet that I put the Moor +At least into a jealousy so strong +That judgment cannot cure. Which thing to do, +If this poor trash of Venice, whom I trash +For his quick hunting, stand the putting on, +I'll have our Michael Cassio on the hip, +Abuse him to the Moor in the rank garb-- +For I fear Cassio with my night-cap too-- +Make the Moor thank me, love me and reward me. +For making him egregiously an ass +And practising upon his peace and quiet +Even to madness. 'Tis here, but yet confused: +Knavery's plain face is never seen tin used. + +Exit + +SCENE II. A street. + +Enter a Herald with a proclamation; People following +Herald +It is Othello's pleasure, our noble and valiant +general, that, upon certain tidings now arrived, +importing the mere perdition of the Turkish fleet, +every man put himself into triumph; some to dance, +some to make bonfires, each man to what sport and +revels his addiction leads him: for, besides these +beneficial news, it is the celebration of his +nuptial. So much was his pleasure should be +proclaimed. All offices are open, and there is full +liberty of feasting from this present hour of five +till the bell have told eleven. Heaven bless the +isle of Cyprus and our noble general Othello! + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A hall in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and Attendants +OTHELLO +Good Michael, look you to the guard to-night: +Let's teach ourselves that honourable stop, +Not to outsport discretion. + +CASSIO +Iago hath direction what to do; +But, notwithstanding, with my personal eye +Will I look to't. + +OTHELLO +Iago is most honest. +Michael, good night: to-morrow with your earliest +Let me have speech with you. + +To DESDEMONA + +Come, my dear love, +The purchase made, the fruits are to ensue; +That profit's yet to come 'tween me and you. +Good night. + +Exeunt OTHELLO, DESDEMONA, and Attendants + +Enter IAGO + +CASSIO +Welcome, Iago; we must to the watch. + +IAGO +Not this hour, lieutenant; 'tis not yet ten o' the +clock. Our general cast us thus early for the love +of his Desdemona; who let us not therefore blame: +he hath not yet made wanton the night with her; and +she is sport for Jove. + +CASSIO +She's a most exquisite lady. + +IAGO +And, I'll warrant her, fun of game. + +CASSIO +Indeed, she's a most fresh and delicate creature. + +IAGO +What an eye she has! methinks it sounds a parley of +provocation. + +CASSIO +An inviting eye; and yet methinks right modest. + +IAGO +And when she speaks, is it not an alarum to love? + +CASSIO +She is indeed perfection. + +IAGO +Well, happiness to their sheets! Come, lieutenant, I +have a stoup of wine; and here without are a brace +of Cyprus gallants that would fain have a measure to +the health of black Othello. + +CASSIO +Not to-night, good Iago: I have very poor and +unhappy brains for drinking: I could well wish +courtesy would invent some other custom of +entertainment. + +IAGO +O, they are our friends; but one cup: I'll drink for +you. + +CASSIO +I have drunk but one cup to-night, and that was +craftily qualified too, and, behold, what innovation +it makes here: I am unfortunate in the infirmity, +and dare not task my weakness with any more. + +IAGO +What, man! 'tis a night of revels: the gallants +desire it. + +CASSIO +Where are they? + +IAGO +Here at the door; I pray you, call them in. + +CASSIO +I'll do't; but it dislikes me. + +Exit + +IAGO +If I can fasten but one cup upon him, +With that which he hath drunk to-night already, +He'll be as full of quarrel and offence +As my young mistress' dog. Now, my sick fool Roderigo, +Whom love hath turn'd almost the wrong side out, +To Desdemona hath to-night caroused +Potations pottle-deep; and he's to watch: +Three lads of Cyprus, noble swelling spirits, +That hold their honours in a wary distance, +The very elements of this warlike isle, +Have I to-night fluster'd with flowing cups, +And they watch too. Now, 'mongst this flock of drunkards, +Am I to put our Cassio in some action +That may offend the isle.--But here they come: +If consequence do but approve my dream, +My boat sails freely, both with wind and stream. + +Re-enter CASSIO; with him MONTANO and Gentlemen; servants following with wine + +CASSIO +'Fore God, they have given me a rouse already. + +MONTANO +Good faith, a little one; not past a pint, as I am +a soldier. + +IAGO +Some wine, ho! + +Sings + +And let me the canakin clink, clink; +And let me the canakin clink +A soldier's a man; +A life's but a span; +Why, then, let a soldier drink. +Some wine, boys! + +CASSIO +'Fore God, an excellent song. + +IAGO +I learned it in England, where, indeed, they are +most potent in potting: your Dane, your German, and +your swag-bellied Hollander--Drink, ho!--are nothing +to your English. + +CASSIO +Is your Englishman so expert in his drinking? + +IAGO +Why, he drinks you, with facility, your Dane dead +drunk; he sweats not to overthrow your Almain; he +gives your Hollander a vomit, ere the next pottle +can be filled. + +CASSIO +To the health of our general! + +MONTANO +I am for it, lieutenant; and I'll do you justice. + +IAGO +O sweet England! +King Stephen was a worthy peer, +His breeches cost him but a crown; +He held them sixpence all too dear, +With that he call'd the tailor lown. +He was a wight of high renown, +And thou art but of low degree: +'Tis pride that pulls the country down; +Then take thine auld cloak about thee. +Some wine, ho! + +CASSIO +Why, this is a more exquisite song than the other. + +IAGO +Will you hear't again? + +CASSIO +No; for I hold him to be unworthy of his place that +does those things. Well, God's above all; and there +be souls must be saved, and there be souls must not be saved. + +IAGO +It's true, good lieutenant. + +CASSIO +For mine own part,--no offence to the general, nor +any man of quality,--I hope to be saved. + +IAGO +And so do I too, lieutenant. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, by your leave, not before me; the +lieutenant is to be saved before the ancient. Let's +have no more of this; let's to our affairs.--Forgive +us our sins!--Gentlemen, let's look to our business. +Do not think, gentlemen. I am drunk: this is my +ancient; this is my right hand, and this is my left: +I am not drunk now; I can stand well enough, and +speak well enough. + +All +Excellent well. + +CASSIO +Why, very well then; you must not think then that I am drunk. + +Exit + +MONTANO +To the platform, masters; come, let's set the watch. + +IAGO +You see this fellow that is gone before; +He is a soldier fit to stand by Caesar +And give direction: and do but see his vice; +'Tis to his virtue a just equinox, +The one as long as the other: 'tis pity of him. +I fear the trust Othello puts him in. +On some odd time of his infirmity, +Will shake this island. + +MONTANO +But is he often thus? + +IAGO +'Tis evermore the prologue to his sleep: +He'll watch the horologe a double set, +If drink rock not his cradle. + +MONTANO +It were well +The general were put in mind of it. +Perhaps he sees it not; or his good nature +Prizes the virtue that appears in Cassio, +And looks not on his evils: is not this true? + +Enter RODERIGO + +IAGO +[Aside to him] How now, Roderigo! +I pray you, after the lieutenant; go. + +Exit RODERIGO + +MONTANO +And 'tis great pity that the noble Moor +Should hazard such a place as his own second +With one of an ingraft infirmity: +It were an honest action to say +So to the Moor. + +IAGO +Not I, for this fair island: +I do love Cassio well; and would do much +To cure him of this evil--But, hark! what noise? + +Cry within: 'Help! help!' + +Re-enter CASSIO, driving in RODERIGO + +CASSIO +You rogue! you rascal! + +MONTANO +What's the matter, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +A knave teach me my duty! +I'll beat the knave into a twiggen bottle. + +RODERIGO +Beat me! + +CASSIO +Dost thou prate, rogue? + +Striking RODERIGO + +MONTANO +Nay, good lieutenant; + +Staying him + +I pray you, sir, hold your hand. + +CASSIO +Let me go, sir, +Or I'll knock you o'er the mazzard. + +MONTANO +Come, come, +you're drunk. + +CASSIO +Drunk! + +They fight + +IAGO +[Aside to RODERIGO] Away, I say; go out, and cry a mutiny. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Nay, good lieutenant,--alas, gentlemen;-- +Help, ho!--Lieutenant,--sir,--Montano,--sir; +Help, masters!--Here's a goodly watch indeed! + +Bell rings + +Who's that which rings the bell?--Diablo, ho! +The town will rise: God's will, lieutenant, hold! +You will be shamed for ever. + +Re-enter OTHELLO and Attendants + +OTHELLO +What is the matter here? + +MONTANO +'Zounds, I bleed still; I am hurt to the death. + +Faints + +OTHELLO +Hold, for your lives! + +IAGO +Hold, ho! Lieutenant,--sir--Montano,--gentlemen,-- +Have you forgot all sense of place and duty? +Hold! the general speaks to you; hold, hold, for shame! + +OTHELLO +Why, how now, ho! from whence ariseth this? +Are we turn'd Turks, and to ourselves do that +Which heaven hath forbid the Ottomites? +For Christian shame, put by this barbarous brawl: +He that stirs next to carve for his own rage +Holds his soul light; he dies upon his motion. +Silence that dreadful bell: it frights the isle +From her propriety. What is the matter, masters? +Honest Iago, that look'st dead with grieving, +Speak, who began this? on thy love, I charge thee. + +IAGO +I do not know: friends all but now, even now, +In quarter, and in terms like bride and groom +Devesting them for bed; and then, but now-- +As if some planet had unwitted men-- +Swords out, and tilting one at other's breast, +In opposition bloody. I cannot speak +Any beginning to this peevish odds; +And would in action glorious I had lost +Those legs that brought me to a part of it! + +OTHELLO +How comes it, Michael, you are thus forgot? + +CASSIO +I pray you, pardon me; I cannot speak. + +OTHELLO +Worthy Montano, you were wont be civil; +The gravity and stillness of your youth +The world hath noted, and your name is great +In mouths of wisest censure: what's the matter, +That you unlace your reputation thus +And spend your rich opinion for the name +Of a night-brawler? give me answer to it. + +MONTANO +Worthy Othello, I am hurt to danger: +Your officer, Iago, can inform you,-- +While I spare speech, which something now +offends me,-- +Of all that I do know: nor know I aught +By me that's said or done amiss this night; +Unless self-charity be sometimes a vice, +And to defend ourselves it be a sin +When violence assails us. + +OTHELLO +Now, by heaven, +My blood begins my safer guides to rule; +And passion, having my best judgment collied, +Assays to lead the way: if I once stir, +Or do but lift this arm, the best of you +Shall sink in my rebuke. Give me to know +How this foul rout began, who set it on; +And he that is approved in this offence, +Though he had twinn'd with me, both at a birth, +Shall lose me. What! in a town of war, +Yet wild, the people's hearts brimful of fear, +To manage private and domestic quarrel, +In night, and on the court and guard of safety! +'Tis monstrous. Iago, who began't? + +MONTANO +If partially affined, or leagued in office, +Thou dost deliver more or less than truth, +Thou art no soldier. + +IAGO +Touch me not so near: +I had rather have this tongue cut from my mouth +Than it should do offence to Michael Cassio; +Yet, I persuade myself, to speak the truth +Shall nothing wrong him. Thus it is, general. +Montano and myself being in speech, +There comes a fellow crying out for help: +And Cassio following him with determined sword, +To execute upon him. Sir, this gentleman +Steps in to Cassio, and entreats his pause: +Myself the crying fellow did pursue, +Lest by his clamour--as it so fell out-- +The town might fall in fright: he, swift of foot, +Outran my purpose; and I return'd the rather +For that I heard the clink and fall of swords, +And Cassio high in oath; which till to-night +I ne'er might say before. When I came back-- +For this was brief--I found them close together, +At blow and thrust; even as again they were +When you yourself did part them. +More of this matter cannot I report: +But men are men; the best sometimes forget: +Though Cassio did some little wrong to him, +As men in rage strike those that wish them best, +Yet surely Cassio, I believe, received +From him that fled some strange indignity, +Which patience could not pass. + +OTHELLO +I know, Iago, +Thy honesty and love doth mince this matter, +Making it light to Cassio. Cassio, I love thee +But never more be officer of mine. + +Re-enter DESDEMONA, attended + +Look, if my gentle love be not raised up! +I'll make thee an example. + +DESDEMONA +What's the matter? + +OTHELLO +All's well now, sweeting; come away to bed. +Sir, for your hurts, myself will be your surgeon: +Lead him off. + +To MONTANO, who is led off + +Iago, look with care about the town, +And silence those whom this vile brawl distracted. +Come, Desdemona: 'tis the soldiers' life +To have their balmy slumbers waked with strife. + +Exeunt all but IAGO and CASSIO + +IAGO +What, are you hurt, lieutenant? + +CASSIO +Ay, past all surgery. + +IAGO +Marry, heaven forbid! + +CASSIO +Reputation, reputation, reputation! O, I have lost +my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of +myself, and what remains is bestial. My reputation, +Iago, my reputation! + +IAGO +As I am an honest man, I thought you had received +some bodily wound; there is more sense in that than +in reputation. Reputation is an idle and most false +imposition: oft got without merit, and lost without +deserving: you have lost no reputation at all, +unless you repute yourself such a loser. What, man! +there are ways to recover the general again: you +are but now cast in his mood, a punishment more in +policy than in malice, even so as one would beat his +offenceless dog to affright an imperious lion: sue +to him again, and he's yours. + +CASSIO +I will rather sue to be despised than to deceive so +good a commander with so slight, so drunken, and so +indiscreet an officer. Drunk? and speak parrot? +and squabble? swagger? swear? and discourse +fustian with one's own shadow? O thou invisible +spirit of wine, if thou hast no name to be known by, +let us call thee devil! + +IAGO +What was he that you followed with your sword? What +had he done to you? + +CASSIO +I know not. + +IAGO +Is't possible? + +CASSIO +I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; +a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O God, that men +should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away +their brains! that we should, with joy, pleasance +revel and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! + +IAGO +Why, but you are now well enough: how came you thus +recovered? + +CASSIO +It hath pleased the devil drunkenness to give place +to the devil wrath; one unperfectness shows me +another, to make me frankly despise myself. + +IAGO +Come, you are too severe a moraler: as the time, +the place, and the condition of this country +stands, I could heartily wish this had not befallen; +but, since it is as it is, mend it for your own good. + +CASSIO +I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me +I am a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, +such an answer would stop them all. To be now a +sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a +beast! O strange! Every inordinate cup is +unblessed and the ingredient is a devil. + +IAGO +Come, come, good wine is a good familiar creature, +if it be well used: exclaim no more against it. +And, good lieutenant, I think you think I love you. + +CASSIO +I have well approved it, sir. I drunk! + +IAGO +You or any man living may be drunk! at a time, man. +I'll tell you what you shall do. Our general's wife +is now the general: may say so in this respect, for +that he hath devoted and given up himself to the +contemplation, mark, and denotement of her parts and +graces: confess yourself freely to her; importune +her help to put you in your place again: she is of +so free, so kind, so apt, so blessed a disposition, +she holds it a vice in her goodness not to do more +than she is requested: this broken joint between +you and her husband entreat her to splinter; and, my +fortunes against any lay worth naming, this +crack of your love shall grow stronger than it was before. + +CASSIO +You advise me well. + +IAGO +I protest, in the sincerity of love and honest kindness. + +CASSIO +I think it freely; and betimes in the morning I will +beseech the virtuous Desdemona to undertake for me: +I am desperate of my fortunes if they cheque me here. + +IAGO +You are in the right. Good night, lieutenant; I +must to the watch. +CASSIO: Good night, honest Iago. + +Exit + +IAGO +And what's he then that says I play the villain? +When this advice is free I give and honest, +Probal to thinking and indeed the course +To win the Moor again? For 'tis most easy +The inclining Desdemona to subdue +In any honest suit: she's framed as fruitful +As the free elements. And then for her +To win the Moor--were't to renounce his baptism, +All seals and symbols of redeemed sin, +His soul is so enfetter'd to her love, +That she may make, unmake, do what she list, +Even as her appetite shall play the god +With his weak function. How am I then a villain +To counsel Cassio to this parallel course, +Directly to his good? Divinity of hell! +When devils will the blackest sins put on, +They do suggest at first with heavenly shows, +As I do now: for whiles this honest fool +Plies Desdemona to repair his fortunes +And she for him pleads strongly to the Moor, +I'll pour this pestilence into his ear, +That she repeals him for her body's lust; +And by how much she strives to do him good, +She shall undo her credit with the Moor. +So will I turn her virtue into pitch, +And out of her own goodness make the net +That shall enmesh them all. + +Re-enter RODERIGO + +How now, Roderigo! + +RODERIGO +I do follow here in the chase, not like a hound that +hunts, but one that fills up the cry. My money is +almost spent; I have been to-night exceedingly well +cudgelled; and I think the issue will be, I shall +have so much experience for my pains, and so, with +no money at all and a little more wit, return again to Venice. + +IAGO +How poor are they that have not patience! +What wound did ever heal but by degrees? +Thou know'st we work by wit, and not by witchcraft; +And wit depends on dilatory time. +Does't not go well? Cassio hath beaten thee. +And thou, by that small hurt, hast cashier'd Cassio: +Though other things grow fair against the sun, +Yet fruits that blossom first will first be ripe: +Content thyself awhile. By the mass, 'tis morning; +Pleasure and action make the hours seem short. +Retire thee; go where thou art billeted: +Away, I say; thou shalt know more hereafter: +Nay, get thee gone. + +Exit RODERIGO + +Two things are to be done: +My wife must move for Cassio to her mistress; +I'll set her on; +Myself the while to draw the Moor apart, +And bring him jump when he may Cassio find +Soliciting his wife: ay, that's the way +Dull not device by coldness and delay. + +Exit + + +ACT III +SCENE I. Before the castle. + +Enter CASSIO and some Musicians +CASSIO +Masters, play here; I will content your pains; +Something that's brief; and bid 'Good morrow, general.' + +Music + +Enter Clown + +Clown +Why masters, have your instruments been in Naples, +that they speak i' the nose thus? + +First Musician +How, sir, how! + +Clown +Are these, I pray you, wind-instruments? + +First Musician +Ay, marry, are they, sir. + +Clown +O, thereby hangs a tail. + +First Musician +Whereby hangs a tale, sir? + +Clown +Marry. sir, by many a wind-instrument that I know. +But, masters, here's money for you: and the general +so likes your music, that he desires you, for love's +sake, to make no more noise with it. + +First Musician +Well, sir, we will not. + +Clown +If you have any music that may not be heard, to't +again: but, as they say to hear music the general +does not greatly care. + +First Musician +We have none such, sir. + +Clown +Then put up your pipes in your bag, for I'll away: +go; vanish into air; away! + +Exeunt Musicians + +CASSIO +Dost thou hear, my honest friend? + +Clown +No, I hear not your honest friend; I hear you. + +CASSIO +Prithee, keep up thy quillets. There's a poor piece +of gold for thee: if the gentlewoman that attends +the general's wife be stirring, tell her there's +one Cassio entreats her a little favour of speech: +wilt thou do this? + +Clown +She is stirring, sir: if she will stir hither, I +shall seem to notify unto her. + +CASSIO +Do, good my friend. + +Exit Clown + +Enter IAGO + +In happy time, Iago. + +IAGO +You have not been a-bed, then? + +CASSIO +Why, no; the day had broke +Before we parted. I have made bold, Iago, +To send in to your wife: my suit to her +Is, that she will to virtuous Desdemona +Procure me some access. + +IAGO +I'll send her to you presently; +And I'll devise a mean to draw the Moor +Out of the way, that your converse and business +May be more free. + +CASSIO +I humbly thank you for't. + +Exit IAGO + +I never knew +A Florentine more kind and honest. + +Enter EMILIA + +EMILIA +Good morrow, good Lieutenant: I am sorry +For your displeasure; but all will sure be well. +The general and his wife are talking of it; +And she speaks for you stoutly: the Moor replies, +That he you hurt is of great fame in Cyprus, +And great affinity, and that in wholesome wisdom +He might not but refuse you; but he protests he loves you +And needs no other suitor but his likings +To take the safest occasion by the front +To bring you in again. + +CASSIO +Yet, I beseech you, +If you think fit, or that it may be done, +Give me advantage of some brief discourse +With Desdemona alone. + +EMILIA +Pray you, come in; +I will bestow you where you shall have time +To speak your bosom freely. + +CASSIO +I am much bound to you. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A room in the castle. + +Enter OTHELLO, IAGO, and Gentlemen +OTHELLO +These letters give, Iago, to the pilot; +And by him do my duties to the senate: +That done, I will be walking on the works; +Repair there to me. + +IAGO +Well, my good lord, I'll do't. + +OTHELLO +This fortification, gentlemen, shall we see't? + +Gentleman +We'll wait upon your lordship. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. The garden of the castle. + +Enter DESDEMONA, CASSIO, and EMILIA +DESDEMONA +Be thou assured, good Cassio, I will do +All my abilities in thy behalf. + +EMILIA +Good madam, do: I warrant it grieves my husband, +As if the case were his. + +DESDEMONA +O, that's an honest fellow. Do not doubt, Cassio, +But I will have my lord and you again +As friendly as you were. + +CASSIO +Bounteous madam, +Whatever shall become of Michael Cassio, +He's never any thing but your true servant. + +DESDEMONA +I know't; I thank you. You do love my lord: +You have known him long; and be you well assured +He shall in strangeness stand no further off +Than in a polite distance. + +CASSIO +Ay, but, lady, +That policy may either last so long, +Or feed upon such nice and waterish diet, +Or breed itself so out of circumstance, +That, I being absent and my place supplied, +My general will forget my love and service. + +DESDEMONA +Do not doubt that; before Emilia here +I give thee warrant of thy place: assure thee, +If I do vow a friendship, I'll perform it +To the last article: my lord shall never rest; +I'll watch him tame and talk him out of patience; +His bed shall seem a school, his board a shrift; +I'll intermingle every thing he does +With Cassio's suit: therefore be merry, Cassio; +For thy solicitor shall rather die +Than give thy cause away. + +EMILIA +Madam, here comes my lord. + +CASSIO +Madam, I'll take my leave. + +DESDEMONA +Why, stay, and hear me speak. + +CASSIO +Madam, not now: I am very ill at ease, +Unfit for mine own purposes. + +DESDEMONA +Well, do your discretion. + +Exit CASSIO + +Enter OTHELLO and IAGO + +IAGO +Ha! I like not that. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say? + +IAGO +Nothing, my lord: or if--I know not what. + +OTHELLO +Was not that Cassio parted from my wife? + +IAGO +Cassio, my lord! No, sure, I cannot think it, +That he would steal away so guilty-like, +Seeing you coming. + +OTHELLO +I do believe 'twas he. + +DESDEMONA +How now, my lord! +I have been talking with a suitor here, +A man that languishes in your displeasure. + +OTHELLO +Who is't you mean? + +DESDEMONA +Why, your lieutenant, Cassio. Good my lord, +If I have any grace or power to move you, +His present reconciliation take; +For if he be not one that truly loves you, +That errs in ignorance and not in cunning, +I have no judgment in an honest face: +I prithee, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Went he hence now? + +DESDEMONA +Ay, sooth; so humbled +That he hath left part of his grief with me, +To suffer with him. Good love, call him back. + +OTHELLO +Not now, sweet Desdemona; some other time. + +DESDEMONA +But shall't be shortly? + +OTHELLO +The sooner, sweet, for you. + +DESDEMONA +Shall't be to-night at supper? + +OTHELLO +No, not to-night. + +DESDEMONA +To-morrow dinner, then? + +OTHELLO +I shall not dine at home; +I meet the captains at the citadel. + +DESDEMONA +Why, then, to-morrow night; or Tuesday morn; +On Tuesday noon, or night; on Wednesday morn: +I prithee, name the time, but let it not +Exceed three days: in faith, he's penitent; +And yet his trespass, in our common reason-- +Save that, they say, the wars must make examples +Out of their best--is not almost a fault +To incur a private cheque. When shall he come? +Tell me, Othello: I wonder in my soul, +What you would ask me, that I should deny, +Or stand so mammering on. What! Michael Cassio, +That came a-wooing with you, and so many a time, +When I have spoke of you dispraisingly, +Hath ta'en your part; to have so much to do +To bring him in! Trust me, I could do much,-- + +OTHELLO +Prithee, no more: let him come when he will; +I will deny thee nothing. + +DESDEMONA +Why, this is not a boon; +'Tis as I should entreat you wear your gloves, +Or feed on nourishing dishes, or keep you warm, +Or sue to you to do a peculiar profit +To your own person: nay, when I have a suit +Wherein I mean to touch your love indeed, +It shall be full of poise and difficult weight +And fearful to be granted. + +OTHELLO +I will deny thee nothing: +Whereon, I do beseech thee, grant me this, +To leave me but a little to myself. + +DESDEMONA +Shall I deny you? no: farewell, my lord. + +OTHELLO +Farewell, my Desdemona: I'll come to thee straight. + +DESDEMONA +Emilia, come. Be as your fancies teach you; +Whate'er you be, I am obedient. + +Exeunt DESDEMONA and EMILIA + +OTHELLO +Excellent wretch! Perdition catch my soul, +But I do love thee! and when I love thee not, +Chaos is come again. + +IAGO +My noble lord-- + +OTHELLO +What dost thou say, Iago? + +IAGO +Did Michael Cassio, when you woo'd my lady, +Know of your love? + +OTHELLO +He did, from first to last: why dost thou ask? + +IAGO +But for a satisfaction of my thought; +No further harm. + +OTHELLO +Why of thy thought, Iago? + +IAGO +I did not think he had been acquainted with her. + +OTHELLO +O, yes; and went between us very oft. + +IAGO +Indeed! + +OTHELLO +Indeed! ay, indeed: discern'st thou aught in that? +Is he not honest? + +IAGO +Honest, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Honest! ay, honest. + +IAGO +My lord, for aught I know. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou think? + +IAGO +Think, my lord! + +OTHELLO +Think, my lord! +By heaven, he echoes me, +As if there were some monster in his thought +Too hideous to be shown. Thou dost mean something: +I heard thee say even now, thou likedst not that, +When Cassio left my wife: what didst not like? +And when I told thee he was of my counsel +In my whole course of wooing, thou criedst 'Indeed!' +And didst contract and purse thy brow together, +As if thou then hadst shut up in thy brain +Some horrible conceit: if thou dost love me, +Show me thy thought. + +IAGO +My lord, you know I love you. + +OTHELLO +I think thou dost; +And, for I know thou'rt full of love and honesty, +And weigh'st thy words before thou givest them breath, +Therefore these stops of thine fright me the more: +For such things in a false disloyal knave +Are tricks of custom, but in a man that's just +They are close delations, working from the heart +That passion cannot rule. + +IAGO +For Michael Cassio, +I dare be sworn I think that he is honest. + +OTHELLO +I think so too. + +IAGO +Men should be what they seem; +Or those that be not, would they might seem none! + +OTHELLO +Certain, men should be what they seem. + +IAGO +Why, then, I think Cassio's an honest man. + +OTHELLO +Nay, yet there's more in this: +I prithee, speak to me as to thy thinkings, +As thou dost ruminate, and give thy worst of thoughts +The worst of words. + +IAGO +Good my lord, pardon me: +Though I am bound to every act of duty, +I am not bound to that all slaves are free to. +Utter my thoughts? Why, say they are vile and false; +As where's that palace whereinto foul things +Sometimes intrude not? who has a breast so pure, +But some uncleanly apprehensions +Keep leets and law-days and in session sit +With meditations lawful? + +OTHELLO +Thou dost conspire against thy friend, Iago, +If thou but think'st him wrong'd and makest his ear +A stranger to thy thoughts. + +IAGO +I do beseech you-- +Though I perchance am vicious in my guess, +As, I confess, it is my nature's plague +To spy into abuses, and oft my jealousy +Shapes faults that are not--that your wisdom yet, +From one that so imperfectly conceits, +Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble +Out of his scattering and unsure observance. +It were not for your quiet nor your good, +Nor for my manhood, honesty, or wisdom, +To let you know my thoughts. + +OTHELLO +What dost thou mean? + +IAGO +Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, +Is the immediate jewel of their souls: +Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; +'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands: +But he that filches from me my good name +Robs me of that which not enriches him +And makes me poor indeed. + +OTHELLO +By heaven, I'll know thy thoughts. + +IAGO +You cannot, if my heart were in your hand; +Nor shall not, whilst 'tis in my custody. + +OTHELLO +Ha! + +IAGO +O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; +It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock +The meat it feeds on; that cuckold lives in bliss +Who, certain of his fate, loves not his wronger; +But, O, what damned minutes tells he o'er +Who dotes, yet doubts, suspects, yet strongly loves! + +OTHELLO +O misery! + +IAGO +Poor and content is rich and rich enough, +But riches fineless is as poor as winter +To him that ever fears he shall be poor. +Good heaven, the souls of all my tribe defend +From jealousy! + +OTHELLO +Why, why is this? +Think'st thou I'ld make a lie of jealousy, +To follow still the changes of the moon +With fresh suspicions? No; to be once in doubt +Is once to be resolved: exchange me for a goat, +When I shall turn the business of my soul +To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, +Matching thy inference. 'Tis not to make me jealous +To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, +Is free of speech, sings, plays and dances well; +Where virtue is, these are more virtuous: +Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw +The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt; +For she had eyes, and chose me. No, Iago; +I'll see before I doubt; when I doubt, prove; +And on the proof, there is no more but this,-- +Away at once with love or jealousy! + +IAGO +I am glad of it; for now I shall have reason +To show the love and duty that I bear you +With franker spirit: therefore, as I am bound, +Receive it from me. I speak not yet of proof. +Look to your wife; observe her well with Cassio; +Wear your eye thus, not jealous nor secure: +I would not have your free and noble nature, +Out of self-bounty, be abused; look to't: +I know our country disposition well; +In Venice they do let heaven see the pranks +They dare not show their husbands; their best conscience +Is not to leave't undone, but keep't unknown. + +Timon of Athens +Shakespeare homepage | Timon of Athens | Entire play + +ACT I +SCENE I. Athens. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter Poet, Painter, Jeweller, Merchant, and others, at several doors +Poet +Good day, sir. + +Painter +I am glad you're well. + +Poet +I have not seen you long: how goes the world? + +Painter +It wears, sir, as it grows. + +Poet +Ay, that's well known: +But what particular rarity? what strange, +Which manifold record not matches? See, +Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power +Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant. + +Painter +I know them both; th' other's a jeweller. + +Merchant +O, 'tis a worthy lord. + +Jeweller +Nay, that's most fix'd. + +Merchant +A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, +To an untirable and continuate goodness: +He passes. +Jeweller: I have a jewel here-- + +Merchant +O, pray, let's see't: for the Lord Timon, sir? +Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that-- + +Poet +[Reciting to himself] 'When we for recompense have +praised the vile, +It stains the glory in that happy verse +Which aptly sings the good.' + +Merchant +'Tis a good form. + +Looking at the jewel + +Jeweller +And rich: here is a water, look ye. + +Painter +You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication +To the great lord. + +Poet +A thing slipp'd idly from me. +Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes +From whence 'tis nourish'd: the fire i' the flint +Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame +Provokes itself and like the current flies +Each bound it chafes. What have you there? + +Painter +A picture, sir. When comes your book forth? + +Poet +Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. +Let's see your piece. + +Painter +'Tis a good piece. + +Poet +So 'tis: this comes off well and excellent. + +Painter +Indifferent. + +Poet +Admirable: how this grace +Speaks his own standing! what a mental power +This eye shoots forth! how big imagination +Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture +One might interpret. + +Painter +It is a pretty mocking of the life. +Here is a touch; is't good? + +Poet +I will say of it, +It tutors nature: artificial strife +Lives in these touches, livelier than life. + +Enter certain Senators, and pass over + +Painter +How this lord is follow'd! + +Poet +The senators of Athens: happy man! + +Painter +Look, more! + +Poet +You see this confluence, this great flood +of visitors. +I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, +Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug +With amplest entertainment: my free drift +Halts not particularly, but moves itself +In a wide sea of wax: no levell'd malice +Infects one comma in the course I hold; +But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, +Leaving no tract behind. + +Painter +How shall I understand you? + +Poet +I will unbolt to you. +You see how all conditions, how all minds, +As well of glib and slippery creatures as +Of grave and austere quality, tender down +Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune +Upon his good and gracious nature hanging +Subdues and properties to his love and tendance +All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer +To Apemantus, that few things loves better +Than to abhor himself: even he drops down +The knee before him, and returns in peace +Most rich in Timon's nod. + +Painter +I saw them speak together. + +Poet +Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill +Feign'd Fortune to be throned: the base o' the mount +Is rank'd with all deserts, all kind of natures, +That labour on the bosom of this sphere +To propagate their states: amongst them all, +Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix'd, +One do I personate of Lord Timon's frame, +Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; +Whose present grace to present slaves and servants +Translates his rivals. + +Painter +'Tis conceived to scope. +This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, +With one man beckon'd from the rest below, +Bowing his head against the sleepy mount +To climb his happiness, would be well express'd +In our condition. + +Poet +Nay, sir, but hear me on. +All those which were his fellows but of late, +Some better than his value, on the moment +Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, +Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, +Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him +Drink the free air. + +Painter +Ay, marry, what of these? + +Poet +When Fortune in her shift and change of mood +Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants +Which labour'd after him to the mountain's top +Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, +Not one accompanying his declining foot. + +Painter +'Tis common: +A thousand moral paintings I can show +That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune's +More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well +To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen +The foot above the head. + +Trumpets sound. Enter TIMON, addressing himself courteously to every suitor; a Messenger from VENTIDIUS talking with him; LUCILIUS and other servants following + +TIMON +Imprison'd is he, say you? + +Messenger +Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, +His means most short, his creditors most strait: +Your honourable letter he desires +To those have shut him up; which failing, +Periods his comfort. + +TIMON +Noble Ventidius! Well; +I am not of that feather to shake off +My friend when he must need me. I do know him +A gentleman that well deserves a help: +Which he shall have: I'll pay the debt, +and free him. + +Messenger +Your lordship ever binds him. + +TIMON +Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; +And being enfranchised, bid him come to me. +'Tis not enough to help the feeble up, +But to support him after. Fare you well. + +Messenger +All happiness to your honour! + +Exit + +Enter an old Athenian + +Old Athenian +Lord Timon, hear me speak. + +TIMON +Freely, good father. + +Old Athenian +Thou hast a servant named Lucilius. + +TIMON +I have so: what of him? + +Old Athenian +Most noble Timon, call the man before thee. + +TIMON +Attends he here, or no? Lucilius! + +LUCILIUS +Here, at your lordship's service. + +Old Athenian +This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, +By night frequents my house. I am a man +That from my first have been inclined to thrift; +And my estate deserves an heir more raised +Than one which holds a trencher. + +TIMON +Well; what further? + +Old Athenian +One only daughter have I, no kin else, +On whom I may confer what I have got: +The maid is fair, o' the youngest for a bride, +And I have bred her at my dearest cost +In qualities of the best. This man of thine +Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord, +Join with me to forbid him her resort; +Myself have spoke in vain. + +TIMON +The man is honest. + +Old Athenian +Therefore he will be, Timon: +His honesty rewards him in itself; +It must not bear my daughter. + +TIMON +Does she love him? + +Old Athenian +She is young and apt: +Our own precedent passions do instruct us +What levity's in youth. + +TIMON +[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid? + +LUCILIUS +Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it. + +Old Athenian +If in her marriage my consent be missing, +I call the gods to witness, I will choose +Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, +And dispossess her all. + +TIMON +How shall she be endow'd, +if she be mated with an equal husband? + +Old Athenian +Three talents on the present; in future, all. + +TIMON +This gentleman of mine hath served me long: +To build his fortune I will strain a little, +For 'tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: +What you bestow, in him I'll counterpoise, +And make him weigh with her. + +Old Athenian +Most noble lord, +Pawn me to this your honour, she is his. + +TIMON +My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise. + +LUCILIUS +Humbly I thank your lordship: never may +The state or fortune fall into my keeping, +Which is not owed to you! + +Exeunt LUCILIUS and Old Athenian + +Poet +Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship! + +TIMON +I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: +Go not away. What have you there, my friend? + +Painter +A piece of painting, which I do beseech +Your lordship to accept. + +TIMON +Painting is welcome. +The painting is almost the natural man; +or since dishonour traffics with man's nature, +He is but outside: these pencill'd figures are +Even such as they give out. I like your work; +And you shall find I like it: wait attendance +Till you hear further from me. + +Painter +The gods preserve ye! + +TIMON +Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; +We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel +Hath suffer'd under praise. + +Jeweller +What, my lord! dispraise? + +TIMON +A more satiety of commendations. +If I should pay you for't as 'tis extoll'd, +It would unclew me quite. + +Jeweller +My lord, 'tis rated +As those which sell would give: but you well know, +Things of like value differing in the owners +Are prized by their masters: believe't, dear lord, +You mend the jewel by the wearing it. + +TIMON +Well mock'd. + +Merchant +No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, +Which all men speak with him. + +TIMON +Look, who comes here: will you be chid? + +Enter APEMANTUS + +Jeweller: We'll bear, with your lordship. + +Merchant +He'll spare none. + +TIMON +Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus! + +APEMANTUS +Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; +When thou art Timon's dog, and these knaves honest. + +TIMON +Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know'st them not. + +APEMANTUS +Are they not Athenians? + +TIMON +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then I repent not. +Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Thou know'st I do: I call'd thee by thy name. + +TIMON +Thou art proud, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon. + +TIMON +Whither art going? + +APEMANTUS +To knock out an honest Athenian's brains. + +TIMON +That's a deed thou'lt die for. + +APEMANTUS +Right, if doing nothing be death by the law. + +TIMON +How likest thou this picture, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +The best, for the innocence. + +TIMON +Wrought he not well that painted it? + +APEMANTUS +He wrought better that made the painter; and yet +he's but a filthy piece of work. + +Painter +You're a dog. + +APEMANTUS +Thy mother's of my generation: what's she, if I be a dog? + +TIMON +Wilt dine with me, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +No; I eat not lords. + +TIMON +An thou shouldst, thou 'ldst anger ladies. + +APEMANTUS +O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies. + +TIMON +That's a lascivious apprehension. + +APEMANTUS +So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour. + +TIMON +How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a +man a doit. + +TIMON +What dost thou think 'tis worth? + +APEMANTUS +Not worth my thinking. How now, poet! + +Poet +How now, philosopher! + +APEMANTUS +Thou liest. + +Poet +Art not one? + +APEMANTUS +Yes. + +Poet +Then I lie not. + +APEMANTUS +Art not a poet? + +Poet +Yes. + +APEMANTUS +Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou +hast feigned him a worthy fellow. + +Poet +That's not feigned; he is so. + +APEMANTUS +Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy +labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o' +the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord! + +TIMON +What wouldst do then, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +E'en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart. + +TIMON +What, thyself? + +APEMANTUS +Ay. + +TIMON +Wherefore? + +APEMANTUS +That I had no angry wit to be a lord. +Art not thou a merchant? + +Merchant +Ay, Apemantus. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not! + +Merchant +If traffic do it, the gods do it. + +APEMANTUS +Traffic's thy god; and thy god confound thee! + +Trumpet sounds. Enter a Messenger + +TIMON +What trumpet's that? + +Messenger +'Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, +All of companionship. + +TIMON +Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us. + +Exeunt some Attendants + +You must needs dine with me: go not you hence +Till I have thank'd you: when dinner's done, +Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with the rest + +Most welcome, sir! + +APEMANTUS +So, so, there! +Aches contract and starve your supple joints! +That there should be small love 'mongst these +sweet knaves, +And all this courtesy! The strain of man's bred out +Into baboon and monkey. + +ALCIBIADES +Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed +Most hungerly on your sight. + +TIMON +Right welcome, sir! +Ere we depart, we'll share a bounteous time +In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in. + +Exeunt all except APEMANTUS + +Enter two Lords + +First Lord +What time o' day is't, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Time to be honest. + +First Lord +That time serves still. + +APEMANTUS +The more accursed thou, that still omitt'st it. + +Second Lord +Thou art going to Lord Timon's feast? + +APEMANTUS +Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools. + +Second Lord +Fare thee well, fare thee well. + +APEMANTUS +Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice. + +Second Lord +Why, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to +give thee none. + +First Lord +Hang thyself! + +APEMANTUS +No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy +requests to thy friend. + +Second Lord +Away, unpeaceable dog, or I'll spurn thee hence! + +APEMANTUS +I will fly, like a dog, the heels o' the ass. + +Exit + +First Lord +He's opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, +And taste Lord Timon's bounty? he outgoes +The very heart of kindness. + +Second Lord +He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, +Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays +Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, +But breeds the giver a return exceeding +All use of quittance. + +First Lord +The noblest mind he carries +That ever govern'd man. + +Second Lord +Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in? + +First Lord +I'll keep you company. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. A banqueting-room in Timon's house. + +Hautboys playing loud music. A great banquet served in; FLAVIUS and others attending; then enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, Lords, Senators, and VENTIDIUS. Then comes, dropping, after all, APEMANTUS, discontentedly, like himself +VENTIDIUS +Most honour'd Timon, +It hath pleased the gods to remember my father's age, +And call him to long peace. +He is gone happy, and has left me rich: +Then, as in grateful virtue I am bound +To your free heart, I do return those talents, +Doubled with thanks and service, from whose help +I derived liberty. + +TIMON +O, by no means, +Honest Ventidius; you mistake my love: +I gave it freely ever; and there's none +Can truly say he gives, if he receives: +If our betters play at that game, we must not dare +To imitate them; faults that are rich are fair. + +VENTIDIUS +A noble spirit! + +TIMON +Nay, my lords, + +They all stand ceremoniously looking on TIMON + +Ceremony was but devised at first +To set a gloss on faint deeds, hollow welcomes, +Recanting goodness, sorry ere 'tis shown; +But where there is true friendship, there needs none. +Pray, sit; more welcome are ye to my fortunes +Than my fortunes to me. + +They sit + +First Lord +My lord, we always have confess'd it. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho, confess'd it! hang'd it, have you not? + +TIMON +O, Apemantus, you are welcome. + +APEMANTUS +No; +You shall not make me welcome: +I come to have thee thrust me out of doors. + +TIMON +Fie, thou'rt a churl; ye've got a humour there +Does not become a man: 'tis much to blame. +They say, my lords, 'ira furor brevis est;' but yond +man is ever angry. Go, let him have a table by +himself, for he does neither affect company, nor is +he fit for't, indeed. + +APEMANTUS +Let me stay at thine apperil, Timon: I come to +observe; I give thee warning on't. + +TIMON +I take no heed of thee; thou'rt an Athenian, +therefore welcome: I myself would have no power; +prithee, let my meat make thee silent. + +APEMANTUS +I scorn thy meat; 'twould choke me, for I should +ne'er flatter thee. O you gods, what a number of +men eat Timon, and he sees 'em not! It grieves me +to see so many dip their meat in one man's blood; +and all the madness is, he cheers them up too. +I wonder men dare trust themselves with men: +Methinks they should invite them without knives; +Good for their meat, and safer for their lives. +There's much example for't; the fellow that sits +next him now, parts bread with him, pledges the +breath of him in a divided draught, is the readiest +man to kill him: 't has been proved. If I were a +huge man, I should fear to drink at meals; +Lest they should spy my windpipe's dangerous notes: +Great men should drink with harness on their throats. + +TIMON +My lord, in heart; and let the health go round. + +Second Lord +Let it flow this way, my good lord. + +APEMANTUS +Flow this way! A brave fellow! he keeps his tides +well. Those healths will make thee and thy state +look ill, Timon. Here's that which is too weak to +be a sinner, honest water, which ne'er left man i' the mire: +This and my food are equals; there's no odds: +Feasts are too proud to give thanks to the gods. +Apemantus' grace. +Immortal gods, I crave no pelf; +I pray for no man but myself: +Grant I may never prove so fond, +To trust man on his oath or bond; +Or a harlot, for her weeping; +Or a dog, that seems a-sleeping: +Or a keeper with my freedom; +Or my friends, if I should need 'em. +Amen. So fall to't: +Rich men sin, and I eat root. + +Eats and drinks + +Much good dich thy good heart, Apemantus! + +TIMON +Captain Alcibiades, your heart's in the field now. + +ALCIBIADES +My heart is ever at your service, my lord. + +TIMON +You had rather be at a breakfast of enemies than a +dinner of friends. + +ALCIBIADES +So the were bleeding-new, my lord, there's no meat +like 'em: I could wish my best friend at such a feast. + +APEMANTUS +Would all those fatterers were thine enemies then, +that then thou mightst kill 'em and bid me to 'em! + +First Lord +Might we but have that happiness, my lord, that you +would once use our hearts, whereby we might express +some part of our zeals, we should think ourselves +for ever perfect. + +TIMON +O, no doubt, my good friends, but the gods +themselves have provided that I shall have much help +from you: how had you been my friends else? why +have you that charitable title from thousands, did +not you chiefly belong to my heart? I have told +more of you to myself than you can with modesty +speak in your own behalf; and thus far I confirm +you. O you gods, think I, what need we have any +friends, if we should ne'er have need of 'em? they +were the most needless creatures living, should we +ne'er have use for 'em, and would most resemble +sweet instruments hung up in cases that keep their +sounds to themselves. Why, I have often wished +myself poorer, that I might come nearer to you. We +are born to do benefits: and what better or +properer can we can our own than the riches of our +friends? O, what a precious comfort 'tis, to have +so many, like brothers, commanding one another's +fortunes! O joy, e'en made away ere 't can be born! +Mine eyes cannot hold out water, methinks: to +forget their faults, I drink to you. + +APEMANTUS +Thou weepest to make them drink, Timon. + +Second Lord +Joy had the like conception in our eyes +And at that instant like a babe sprung up. + +APEMANTUS +Ho, ho! I laugh to think that babe a bastard. + +Third Lord +I promise you, my lord, you moved me much. + +APEMANTUS +Much! + +Tucket, within + +TIMON +What means that trump? + +Enter a Servant + +How now? + +Servant +Please you, my lord, there are certain +ladies most desirous of admittance. + +TIMON +Ladies! what are their wills? + +Servant +There comes with them a forerunner, my lord, which +bears that office, to signify their pleasures. + +TIMON +I pray, let them be admitted. + +Enter Cupid + +Cupid +Hail to thee, worthy Timon, and to all +That of his bounties taste! The five best senses +Acknowledge thee their patron; and come freely +To gratulate thy plenteous bosom: th' ear, +Taste, touch and smell, pleased from thy tale rise; +They only now come but to feast thine eyes. + +TIMON +They're welcome all; let 'em have kind admittance: +Music, make their welcome! + +Exit Cupid + +First Lord +You see, my lord, how ample you're beloved. + +Music. Re-enter Cupid with a mask of Ladies as Amazons, with lutes in their hands, dancing and playing + +APEMANTUS +Hoy-day, what a sweep of vanity comes this way! +They dance! they are mad women. +Like madness is the glory of this life. +As this pomp shows to a little oil and root. +We make ourselves fools, to disport ourselves; +And spend our flatteries, to drink those men +Upon whose age we void it up again, +With poisonous spite and envy. +Who lives that's not depraved or depraves? +Who dies, that bears not one spurn to their graves +Of their friends' gift? +I should fear those that dance before me now +Would one day stamp upon me: 't has been done; +Men shut their doors against a setting sun. + +The Lords rise from table, with much adoring of TIMON; and to show their loves, each singles out an Amazon, and all dance, men with women, a lofty strain or two to the hautboys, and cease + +TIMON +You have done our pleasures much grace, fair ladies, +Set a fair fashion on our entertainment, +Which was not half so beautiful and kind; +You have added worth unto 't and lustre, +And entertain'd me with mine own device; +I am to thank you for 't. + +First Lady +My lord, you take us even at the best. + +APEMANTUS +'Faith, for the worst is filthy; and would not hold +taking, I doubt me. + +TIMON +Ladies, there is an idle banquet attends you: +Please you to dispose yourselves. + +All Ladies +Most thankfully, my lord. + +Exeunt Cupid and Ladies + +TIMON +Flavius. + +FLAVIUS +My lord? + +TIMON +The little casket bring me hither. + +FLAVIUS +Yes, my lord. More jewels yet! +There is no crossing him in 's humour; + +Aside + +Else I should tell him,--well, i' faith I should, +When all's spent, he 'ld be cross'd then, an he could. +'Tis pity bounty had not eyes behind, +That man might ne'er be wretched for his mind. + +Exit + +First Lord +Where be our men? + +Servant +Here, my lord, in readiness. + +Second Lord +Our horses! + +Re-enter FLAVIUS, with the casket + +TIMON +O my friends, +I have one word to say to you: look you, my good lord, +I must entreat you, honour me so much +As to advance this jewel; accept it and wear it, +Kind my lord. + +First Lord +I am so far already in your gifts,-- + +All +So are we all. + +Enter a Servant + +Servant +My lord, there are certain nobles of the senate +Newly alighted, and come to visit you. + +TIMON +They are fairly welcome. + +FLAVIUS +I beseech your honour, +Vouchsafe me a word; it does concern you near. + +TIMON +Near! why then, another time I'll hear thee: +I prithee, let's be provided to show them +entertainment. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] I scarce know how. + +Enter a Second Servant + +Second Servant +May it please your honour, Lord Lucius, +Out of his free love, hath presented to you +Four milk-white horses, trapp'd in silver. + +TIMON +I shall accept them fairly; let the presents +Be worthily entertain'd. + +Enter a third Servant + +How now! what news? + +Third Servant +Please you, my lord, that honourable +gentleman, Lord Lucullus, entreats your company +to-morrow to hunt with him, and has sent your honour +two brace of greyhounds. + +TIMON +I'll hunt with him; and let them be received, +Not without fair reward. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] What will this come to? +He commands us to provide, and give great gifts, +And all out of an empty coffer: +Nor will he know his purse, or yield me this, +To show him what a beggar his heart is, +Being of no power to make his wishes good: +His promises fly so beyond his state +That what he speaks is all in debt; he owes +For every word: he is so kind that he now +Pays interest for 't; his land's put to their books. +Well, would I were gently put out of office +Before I were forced out! +Happier is he that has no friend to feed +Than such that do e'en enemies exceed. +I bleed inwardly for my lord. + +Exit + +TIMON +You do yourselves +Much wrong, you bate too much of your own merits: +Here, my lord, a trifle of our love. + +Second Lord +With more than common thanks I will receive it. + +Third Lord +O, he's the very soul of bounty! + +TIMON +And now I remember, my lord, you gave +Good words the other day of a bay courser +I rode on: it is yours, because you liked it. + +Second Lord +O, I beseech you, pardon me, my lord, in that. + +TIMON +You may take my word, my lord; I know, no man +Can justly praise but what he does affect: +I weigh my friend's affection with mine own; +I'll tell you true. I'll call to you. + +All Lords +O, none so welcome. + +TIMON +I take all and your several visitations +So kind to heart, 'tis not enough to give; +Methinks, I could deal kingdoms to my friends, +And ne'er be weary. Alcibiades, +Thou art a soldier, therefore seldom rich; +It comes in charity to thee: for all thy living +Is 'mongst the dead, and all the lands thou hast +Lie in a pitch'd field. + +ALCIBIADES +Ay, defiled land, my lord. + +First Lord +We are so virtuously bound-- + +TIMON +And so +Am I to you. + +Second Lord +So infinitely endear'd-- + +TIMON +All to you. Lights, more lights! + +First Lord +The best of happiness, +Honour and fortunes, keep with you, Lord Timon! + +TIMON +Ready for his friends. + +Exeunt all but APEMANTUS and TIMON + +APEMANTUS +What a coil's here! +Serving of becks and jutting-out of bums! +I doubt whether their legs be worth the sums +That are given for 'em. Friendship's full of dregs: +Methinks, false hearts should never have sound legs, +Thus honest fools lay out their wealth on court'sies. + +TIMON +Now, Apemantus, if thou wert not sullen, I would be +good to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No, I'll nothing: for if I should be bribed too, +there would be none left to rail upon thee, and then +thou wouldst sin the faster. Thou givest so long, +Timon, I fear me thou wilt give away thyself in +paper shortly: what need these feasts, pomps and +vain-glories? + +TIMON +Nay, an you begin to rail on society once, I am +sworn not to give regard to you. Farewell; and come +with better music. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +So: +Thou wilt not hear me now; thou shalt not then: +I'll lock thy heaven from thee. +O, that men's ears should be +To counsel deaf, but not to flattery! + +Exit + + +ACT II +SCENE I. A Senator's house. + +Enter Senator, with papers in his hand +Senator +And late, five thousand: to Varro and to Isidore +He owes nine thousand; besides my former sum, +Which makes it five and twenty. Still in motion +Of raging waste? It cannot hold; it will not. +If I want gold, steal but a beggar's dog, +And give it Timon, why, the dog coins gold. +If I would sell my horse, and buy twenty more +Better than he, why, give my horse to Timon, +Ask nothing, give it him, it foals me, straight, +And able horses. No porter at his gate, +But rather one that smiles and still invites +All that pass by. It cannot hold: no reason +Can found his state in safety. Caphis, ho! +Caphis, I say! + +Enter CAPHIS + +CAPHIS +Here, sir; what is your pleasure? + +Senator +Get on your cloak, and haste you to Lord Timon; +Importune him for my moneys; be not ceased +With slight denial, nor then silenced when-- +'Commend me to your master'--and the cap +Plays in the right hand, thus: but tell him, +My uses cry to me, I must serve my turn +Out of mine own; his days and times are past +And my reliances on his fracted dates +Have smit my credit: I love and honour him, +But must not break my back to heal his finger; +Immediate are my needs, and my relief +Must not be toss'd and turn'd to me in words, +But find supply immediate. Get you gone: +Put on a most importunate aspect, +A visage of demand; for, I do fear, +When every feather sticks in his own wing, +Lord Timon will be left a naked gull, +Which flashes now a phoenix. Get you gone. + +CAPHIS +I go, sir. + +Senator +'I go, sir!'--Take the bonds along with you, +And have the dates in contempt. + +CAPHIS +I will, sir. + +Senator +Go. + +Exeunt + +SCENE II. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter FLAVIUS, with many bills in his hand +FLAVIUS +No care, no stop! so senseless of expense, +That he will neither know how to maintain it, +Nor cease his flow of riot: takes no account +How things go from him, nor resumes no care +Of what is to continue: never mind +Was to be so unwise, to be so kind. +What shall be done? he will not hear, till feel: +I must be round with him, now he comes from hunting. +Fie, fie, fie, fie! + +Enter CAPHIS, and the Servants of Isidore and Varro + +CAPHIS +Good even, Varro: what, +You come for money? +Varro's Servant Is't not your business too? + +CAPHIS +It is: and yours too, Isidore? +Isidore's Servant It is so. + +CAPHIS +Would we were all discharged! +Varro's Servant I fear it. + +CAPHIS +Here comes the lord. + +Enter TIMON, ALCIBIADES, and Lords, & c + +TIMON +So soon as dinner's done, we'll forth again, +My Alcibiades. With me? what is your will? + +CAPHIS +My lord, here is a note of certain dues. + +TIMON +Dues! Whence are you? + +CAPHIS +Of Athens here, my lord. + +TIMON +Go to my steward. + +CAPHIS +Please it your lordship, he hath put me off +To the succession of new days this month: +My master is awaked by great occasion +To call upon his own, and humbly prays you +That with your other noble parts you'll suit +In giving him his right. + +TIMON +Mine honest friend, +I prithee, but repair to me next morning. + +CAPHIS +Nay, good my lord,-- + +TIMON +Contain thyself, good friend. +Varro's Servant One Varro's servant, my good lord,-- +Isidore's Servant From Isidore; +He humbly prays your speedy payment. + +CAPHIS +If you did know, my lord, my master's wants-- +Varro's Servant 'Twas due on forfeiture, my lord, six weeks And past. +Isidore's Servant Your steward puts me off, my lord; +And I am sent expressly to your lordship. + +TIMON +Give me breath. +I do beseech you, good my lords, keep on; +I'll wait upon you instantly. + +Exeunt ALCIBIADES and Lords + +To FLAVIUS + +Come hither: pray you, +How goes the world, that I am thus encounter'd +With clamourous demands of date-broke bonds, +And the detention of long-since-due debts, +Against my honour? + +FLAVIUS +Please you, gentlemen, +The time is unagreeable to this business: +Your importunacy cease till after dinner, +That I may make his lordship understand +Wherefore you are not paid. + +TIMON +Do so, my friends. See them well entertain'd. + +Exit + +FLAVIUS +Pray, draw near. + +Exit + +Enter APEMANTUS and Fool + +CAPHIS +Stay, stay, here comes the fool with Apemantus: +let's ha' some sport with 'em. +Varro's Servant Hang him, he'll abuse us. +Isidore's Servant A plague upon him, dog! +Varro's Servant How dost, fool? + +APEMANTUS +Dost dialogue with thy shadow? +Varro's Servant I speak not to thee. + +APEMANTUS +No,'tis to thyself. + +To the Fool + +Come away. +Isidore's Servant There's the fool hangs on your back already. + +APEMANTUS +No, thou stand'st single, thou'rt not on him yet. + +CAPHIS +Where's the fool now? + +APEMANTUS +He last asked the question. Poor rogues, and +usurers' men! bawds between gold and want! + +All Servants +What are we, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Asses. + +All Servants +Why? + +APEMANTUS +That you ask me what you are, and do not know +yourselves. Speak to 'em, fool. + +Fool +How do you, gentlemen? + +All Servants +Gramercies, good fool: how does your mistress? + +Fool +She's e'en setting on water to scald such chickens +as you are. Would we could see you at Corinth! + +APEMANTUS +Good! gramercy. + +Enter Page + +Fool +Look you, here comes my mistress' page. + +Page +[To the Fool] Why, how now, captain! what do you +in this wise company? How dost thou, Apemantus? + +APEMANTUS +Would I had a rod in my mouth, that I might answer +thee profitably. + +Page +Prithee, Apemantus, read me the superscription of +these letters: I know not which is which. + +APEMANTUS +Canst not read? + +Page +No. + +APEMANTUS +There will little learning die then, that day thou +art hanged. This is to Lord Timon; this to +Alcibiades. Go; thou wast born a bastard, and thou't +die a bawd. + +Page +Thou wast whelped a dog, and thou shalt famish a +dog's death. Answer not; I am gone. + +Exit + +APEMANTUS +E'en so thou outrunnest grace. Fool, I will go with +you to Lord Timon's. + +Fool +Will you leave me there? + +APEMANTUS +If Timon stay at home. You three serve three usurers? + +All Servants +Ay; would they served us! + +APEMANTUS +So would I,--as good a trick as ever hangman served thief. + +Fool +Are you three usurers' men? + +All Servants +Ay, fool. + +Fool +I think no usurer but has a fool to his servant: my +mistress is one, and I am her fool. When men come +to borrow of your masters, they approach sadly, and +go away merry; but they enter my mistress' house +merrily, and go away sadly: the reason of this? +Varro's Servant I could render one. + +APEMANTUS +Do it then, that we may account thee a whoremaster +and a knave; which not-withstanding, thou shalt be +no less esteemed. +Varro's Servant What is a whoremaster, fool? + +Fool +A fool in good clothes, and something like thee. +'Tis a spirit: sometime't appears like a lord; +sometime like a lawyer; sometime like a philosopher, +with two stones moe than's artificial one: he is +very often like a knight; and, generally, in all +shapes that man goes up and down in from fourscore +to thirteen, this spirit walks in. +Varro's Servant Thou art not altogether a fool. + +Fool +Nor thou altogether a wise man: as much foolery as +I have, so much wit thou lackest. + +APEMANTUS +That answer might have become Apemantus. + +All Servants +Aside, aside; here comes Lord Timon. + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +APEMANTUS +Come with me, fool, come. + +Fool +I do not always follow lover, elder brother and +woman; sometime the philosopher. + +Exeunt APEMANTUS and Fool + +FLAVIUS +Pray you, walk near: I'll speak with you anon. + +Exeunt Servants + +TIMON +You make me marvel: wherefore ere this time +Had you not fully laid my state before me, +That I might so have rated my expense, +As I had leave of means? + +FLAVIUS +You would not hear me, +At many leisures I proposed. + +TIMON +Go to: +Perchance some single vantages you took. +When my indispos ition put you back: +And that unaptness made your minister, +Thus to excuse yourself. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, +At many times I brought in my accounts, +Laid them before you; you would throw them off, +And say, you found them in mine honesty. +When, for some trifling present, you have bid me +Return so much, I have shook my head and wept; +Yea, 'gainst the authority of manners, pray'd you +To hold your hand more close: I did endure +Not seldom, nor no slight cheques, when I have +Prompted you in the ebb of your estate +And your great flow of debts. My loved lord, +Though you hear now, too late--yet now's a time-- +The greatest of your having lacks a half +To pay your present debts. + +TIMON +Let all my land be sold. + +FLAVIUS +'Tis all engaged, some forfeited and gone; +And what remains will hardly stop the mouth +Of present dues: the future comes apace: +What shall defend the interim? and at length +How goes our reckoning? + +TIMON +To Lacedaemon did my land extend. + +FLAVIUS +O my good lord, the world is but a word: +Were it all yours to give it in a breath, +How quickly were it gone! + +TIMON +You tell me true. + +FLAVIUS +If you suspect my husbandry or falsehood, +Call me before the exactest auditors +And set me on the proof. So the gods bless me, +When all our offices have been oppress'd +With riotous feeders, when our vaults have wept +With drunken spilth of wine, when every room +Hath blazed with lights and bray'd with minstrelsy, +I have retired me to a wasteful cock, +And set mine eyes at flow. + +TIMON +Prithee, no more. + +FLAVIUS +Heavens, have I said, the bounty of this lord! +How many prodigal bits have slaves and peasants +This night englutted! Who is not Timon's? +What heart, head, sword, force, means, but is +Lord Timon's? +Great Timon, noble, worthy, royal Timon! +Ah, when the means are gone that buy this praise, +The breath is gone whereof this praise is made: +Feast-won, fast-lost; one cloud of winter showers, +These flies are couch'd. + +TIMON +Come, sermon me no further: +No villanous bounty yet hath pass'd my heart; +Unwisely, not ignobly, have I given. +Why dost thou weep? Canst thou the conscience lack, +To think I shall lack friends? Secure thy heart; +If I would broach the vessels of my love, +And try the argument of hearts by borrowing, +Men and men's fortunes could I frankly use +As I can bid thee speak. + +FLAVIUS +Assurance bless your thoughts! + +TIMON +And, in some sort, these wants of mine are crown'd, +That I account them blessings; for by these +Shall I try friends: you shall perceive how you +Mistake my fortunes; I am wealthy in my friends. +Within there! Flaminius! Servilius! + +Enter FLAMINIUS, SERVILIUS, and other Servants + +Servants +My lord? my lord? + +TIMON +I will dispatch you severally; you to Lord Lucius; +to Lord Lucullus you: I hunted with his honour +to-day: you, to Sempronius: commend me to their +loves, and, I am proud, say, that my occasions have +found time to use 'em toward a supply of money: let +the request be fifty talents. + +FLAMINIUS +As you have said, my lord. + +FLAVIUS +[Aside] Lord Lucius and Lucullus? hum! + +TIMON +Go you, sir, to the senators-- +Of whom, even to the state's best health, I have +Deserved this hearing--bid 'em send o' the instant +A thousand talents to me. + +FLAVIUS +I have been bold-- +For that I knew it the most general way-- +To them to use your signet and your name; +But they do shake their heads, and I am here +No richer in return. + +TIMON +Is't true? can't be? + +FLAVIUS +They answer, in a joint and corporate voice, +That now they are at fall, want treasure, cannot +Do what they would; are sorry--you are honourable,-- +But yet they could have wish'd--they know not-- +Something hath been amiss--a noble nature +May catch a wrench--would all were well--'tis pity;-- +And so, intending other serious matters, +After distasteful looks and these hard fractions, +With certain half-caps and cold-moving nods +They froze me into silence. + +TIMON +You gods, reward them! +Prithee, man, look cheerly. These old fellows +Have their ingratitude in them hereditary: +Their blood is caked, 'tis cold, it seldom flows; +'Tis lack of kindly warmth they are not kind; +And nature, as it grows again toward earth, +Is fashion'd for the journey, dull and heavy. + +To a Servant + +Go to Ventidius. + +To FLAVIUS + +Prithee, be not sad, +Thou art true and honest; ingeniously I speak. +No blame belongs to thee. + +To Servant + +Ventidius lately +Buried his father; by whose death he's stepp'd +Into a great estate: when he was poor, +Imprison'd and in scarcity of friends, +I clear'd him with five talents: greet him from me; +Bid him suppose some good necessity +Touches his friend, which craves to be remember'd +With those five talents. + +Exit Servant + +To FLAVIUS + +That had, give't these fellows +To whom 'tis instant due. Ne'er speak, or think, +That Timon's fortunes 'mong his friends can sink. + +FLAVIUS +I would I could not think it: that thought is +bounty's foe; +Being free itself, it thinks all others so. + +Exeunt + + +ACT III +SCENE I. A room in Lucullus' house. + +FLAMINIUS waiting. Enter a Servant to him +Servant +I have told my lord of you; he is coming down to you. + +FLAMINIUS +I thank you, sir. + +Enter LUCULLUS + +Servant +Here's my lord. + +LUCULLUS +[Aside] One of Lord Timon's men? a gift, I +warrant. Why, this hits right; I dreamt of a silver +basin and ewer to-night. Flaminius, honest +Flaminius; you are very respectively welcome, sir. +Fill me some wine. + +Exit Servants + +And how does that honourable, complete, free-hearted +gentleman of Athens, thy very bountiful good lord +and master? + +FLAMINIUS +His health is well sir. + +LUCULLUS +I am right glad that his health is well, sir: and +what hast thou there under thy cloak, pretty Flaminius? + +FLAMINIUS +'Faith, nothing but an empty box, sir; which, in my +lord's behalf, I come to entreat your honour to +supply; who, having great and instant occasion to +use fifty talents, hath sent to your lordship to +furnish him, nothing doubting your present +assistance therein. + +LUCULLUS +La, la, la, la! 'nothing doubting,' says he? Alas, +good lord! a noble gentleman 'tis, if he would not +keep so good a house. Many a time and often I ha' +dined with him, and told him on't, and come again to +supper to him, of purpose to have him spend less, +and yet he would embrace no counsel, take no warning +by my coming. Every man has his fault, and honesty +is his: I ha' told him on't, but I could ne'er get +him from't. + +Re-enter Servant, with wine + +Servant +Please your lordship, here is the wine. + +LUCULLUS +Flaminius, I have noted thee always wise. Here's to thee. + +FLAMINIUS +Your lordship speaks your pleasure. + +LUCULLUS +I have observed thee always for a towardly prompt +spirit--give thee thy due--and one that knows what +belongs to reason; and canst use the time well, if +the time use thee well: good parts in thee. + +To Servant + +Get you gone, sirrah. + +Exit Servant + +Draw nearer, honest Flaminius. Thy lord's a +bountiful gentleman: but thou art wise; and thou +knowest well enough, although thou comest to me, +that this is no time to lend money, especially upon +bare friendship, without security. Here's three +solidares for thee: good boy, wink at me, and say +thou sawest me not. Fare thee well. + +FLAMINIUS +Is't possible the world should so much differ, +And we alive that lived? Fly, damned baseness, +To him that worships thee! + +Throwing the money back + +LUCULLUS +Ha! now I see thou art a fool, and fit for thy master. + +Exit + +FLAMINIUS +May these add to the number that may scald thee! +Let moulten coin be thy damnation, +Thou disease of a friend, and not himself! +Has friendship such a faint and milky heart, +It turns in less than two nights? O you gods, +I feel master's passion! this slave, +Unto his honour, has my lord's meat in him: +Why should it thrive and turn to nutriment, +When he is turn'd to poison? +O, may diseases only work upon't! +And, when he's sick to death, let not that part of nature +Which my lord paid for, be of any power +To expel sickness, but prolong his hour! + +Exit + +SCENE II. A public place. + +Enter LUCILIUS, with three Strangers +LUCILIUS +Who, the Lord Timon? he is my very good friend, and +an honourable gentleman. + +First Stranger +We know him for no less, though we are but strangers +to him. But I can tell you one thing, my lord, and +which I hear from common rumours: now Lord Timon's +happy hours are done and past, and his estate +shrinks from him. + +LUCILIUS +Fie, no, do not believe it; he cannot want for money. + +Second Stranger +But believe you this, my lord, that, not long ago, +one of his men was with the Lord Lucullus to borrow +so many talents, nay, urged extremely for't and +showed what necessity belonged to't, and yet was denied. + +LUCILIUS +How! + +Second Stranger +I tell you, denied, my lord. + +LUCILIUS +What a strange case was that! now, before the gods, +I am ashamed on't. Denied that honourable man! +there was very little honour showed in't. For my own +part, I must needs confess, I have received some +small kindnesses from him, as money, plate, jewels +and such-like trifles, nothing comparing to his; +yet, had he mistook him and sent to me, I should +ne'er have denied his occasion so many talents. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +SERVILIUS +See, by good hap, yonder's my lord; +I have sweat to see his honour. My honoured lord,-- + +To LUCIUS + +LUCILIUS +Servilius! you are kindly met, sir. Fare thee well: +commend me to thy honourable virtuous lord, my very +exquisite friend. + +SERVILIUS +May it please your honour, my lord hath sent-- + +LUCILIUS +Ha! what has he sent? I am so much endeared to +that lord; he's ever sending: how shall I thank +him, thinkest thou? And what has he sent now? + +SERVILIUS +Has only sent his present occasion now, my lord; +requesting your lordship to supply his instant use +with so many talents. + +LUCILIUS +I know his lordship is but merry with me; +He cannot want fifty five hundred talents. + +SERVILIUS +But in the mean time he wants less, my lord. +If his occasion were not virtuous, +I should not urge it half so faithfully. + +LUCILIUS +Dost thou speak seriously, Servilius? + +SERVILIUS +Upon my soul,'tis true, sir. + +LUCILIUS +What a wicked beast was I to disfurnish myself +against such a good time, when I might ha' shown +myself honourable! how unluckily it happened, that I +should purchase the day before for a little part, +and undo a great deal of honoured! Servilius, now, +before the gods, I am not able to do,--the more +beast, I say:--I was sending to use Lord Timon +myself, these gentlemen can witness! but I would +not, for the wealth of Athens, I had done't now. +Commend me bountifully to his good lordship; and I +hope his honour will conceive the fairest of me, +because I have no power to be kind: and tell him +this from me, I count it one of my greatest +afflictions, say, that I cannot pleasure such an +honourable gentleman. Good Servilius, will you +befriend me so far, as to use mine own words to him? + +SERVILIUS +Yes, sir, I shall. + +LUCILIUS +I'll look you out a good turn, Servilius. + +Exit SERVILIUS + +True as you said, Timon is shrunk indeed; +And he that's once denied will hardly speed. + +Exit + +First Stranger +Do you observe this, Hostilius? + +Second Stranger +Ay, too well. + +First Stranger +Why, this is the world's soul; and just of the +same piece +Is every flatterer's spirit. Who can call him +His friend that dips in the same dish? for, in +My knowing, Timon has been this lord's father, +And kept his credit with his purse, +Supported his estate; nay, Timon's money +Has paid his men their wages: he ne'er drinks, +But Timon's silver treads upon his lip; +And yet--O, see the monstrousness of man +When he looks out in an ungrateful shape!-- +He does deny him, in respect of his, +What charitable men afford to beggars. + +Third Stranger +Religion groans at it. + +First Stranger +For mine own part, +I never tasted Timon in my life, +Nor came any of his bounties over me, +To mark me for his friend; yet, I protest, +For his right noble mind, illustrious virtue +And honourable carriage, +Had his necessity made use of me, +I would have put my wealth into donation, +And the best half should have return'd to him, +So much I love his heart: but, I perceive, +Men must learn now with pity to dispense; +For policy sits above conscience. + +Exeunt + +SCENE III. A room in Sempronius' house. + +Enter SEMPRONIUS, and a Servant of TIMON's +SEMPRONIUS +Must he needs trouble me in 't,--hum!--'bove +all others? +He might have tried Lord Lucius or Lucullus; +And now Ventidius is wealthy too, +Whom he redeem'd from prison: all these +Owe their estates unto him. + +Servant +My lord, +They have all been touch'd and found base metal, for +They have au denied him. + +SEMPRONIUS +How! have they denied him? +Has Ventidius and Lucullus denied him? +And does he send to me? Three? hum! +It shows but little love or judgment in him: +Must I be his last refuge! His friends, like +physicians, +Thrive, give him over: must I take the cure upon me? +Has much disgraced me in't; I'm angry at him, +That might have known my place: I see no sense for't, +But his occasion might have woo'd me first; +For, in my conscience, I was the first man +That e'er received gift from him: +And does he think so backwardly of me now, +That I'll requite its last? No: +So it may prove an argument of laughter +To the rest, and 'mongst lords I be thought a fool. +I'ld rather than the worth of thrice the sum, +Had sent to me first, but for my mind's sake; +I'd such a courage to do him good. But now return, +And with their faint reply this answer join; +Who bates mine honour shall not know my coin. + +Exit + +Servant +Excellent! Your lordship's a goodly villain. The +devil knew not what he did when he made man +politic; he crossed himself by 't: and I cannot +think but, in the end, the villainies of man will +set him clear. How fairly this lord strives to +appear foul! takes virtuous copies to be wicked, +like those that under hot ardent zeal would set +whole realms on fire: Of such a nature is his +politic love. +This was my lord's best hope; now all are fled, +Save only the gods: now his friends are dead, +Doors, that were ne'er acquainted with their wards +Many a bounteous year must be employ'd +Now to guard sure their master. +And this is all a liberal course allows; +Who cannot keep his wealth must keep his house. + +Exit + +SCENE IV. The same. A hall in Timon's house. + +Enter two Servants of Varro, and the Servant of LUCIUS, meeting TITUS, HORTENSIUS, and other Servants of TIMON's creditors, waiting his coming out +Varro's + +First Servant +Well met; good morrow, Titus and Hortensius. + +TITUS +The like to you kind Varro. + +HORTENSIUS +Lucius! +What, do we meet together? +Lucilius' Servant Ay, and I think +One business does command us all; for mine Is money. + +TITUS +So is theirs and ours. + +Enter PHILOTUS + +Lucilius' Servant And Sir Philotus too! + +PHILOTUS +Good day at once. +Lucilius' Servant Welcome, good brother. +What do you think the hour? + +PHILOTUS +Labouring for nine. +Lucilius' Servant So much? + +PHILOTUS +Is not my lord seen yet? +Lucilius' Servant Not yet. + +PHILOTUS +I wonder on't; he was wont to shine at seven. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but the days are wax'd shorter with him: +You must consider that a prodigal course +Is like the sun's; but not, like his, recoverable. +I fear 'tis deepest winter in Lord Timon's purse; +That is one may reach deep enough, and yet +Find little. + +PHILOTUS +I am of your fear for that. + +TITUS +I'll show you how to observe a strange event. +Your lord sends now for money. + +HORTENSIUS +Most true, he does. + +TITUS +And he wears jewels now of Timon's gift, +For which I wait for money. + +HORTENSIUS +It is against my heart. +Lucilius' Servant Mark, how strange it shows, +Timon in this should pay more than he owes: +And e'en as if your lord should wear rich jewels, +And send for money for 'em. + +HORTENSIUS +I'm weary of this charge, the gods can witness: +I know my lord hath spent of Timon's wealth, +And now ingratitude makes it worse than stealth. +Varro's + +First Servant +Yes, mine's three thousand crowns: what's yours? +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand mine. +Varro's + +First Servant +'Tis much deep: and it should seem by the sun, +Your master's confidence was above mine; +Else, surely, his had equall'd. +Enter FLAMINIUS. + +TITUS +One of Lord Timon's men. +Lucilius' Servant Flaminius! Sir, a word: pray, is my lord ready to +come forth? + +FLAMINIUS +No, indeed, he is not. + +TITUS +We attend his lordship; pray, signify so much. + +FLAMINIUS +I need not tell him that; he knows you are too diligent. + +Exit + +Enter FLAVIUS in a cloak, muffled + +Lucilius' Servant Ha! is not that his steward muffled so? +He goes away in a cloud: call him, call him. + +TITUS +Do you hear, sir? +Varro's + +Second Servant +By your leave, sir,-- + +FLAVIUS +What do ye ask of me, my friend? + +TITUS +We wait for certain money here, sir. + +FLAVIUS +Ay, +If money were as certain as your waiting, +'Twere sure enough. +Why then preferr'd you not your sums and bills, +When your false masters eat of my lord's meat? +Then they could smile and fawn upon his debts +And take down the interest into their +gluttonous maws. +You do yourselves but wrong to stir me up; +Let me pass quietly: +Believe 't, my lord and I have made an end; +I have no more to reckon, he to spend. +Lucilius' Servant Ay, but this answer will not serve. + +FLAVIUS +If 'twill not serve,'tis not so base as you; +For you serve knaves. + +Exit + +Varro's + +First Servant +How! what does his cashiered worship mutter? +Varro's + +Second Servant +No matter what; he's poor, and that's revenge +enough. Who can speak broader than he that has no +house to put his head in? such may rail against +great buildings. + +Enter SERVILIUS + +TITUS +O, here's Servilius; now we shall know some answer. + +SERVILIUS +If I might beseech you, gentlemen, to repair some +other hour, I should derive much from't; for, +take't of my soul, my lord leans wondrously to +discontent: his comfortable temper has forsook him; +he's much out of health, and keeps his chamber. +Lucilius' Servant: Many do keep their chambers are not sick: +And, if it be so far beyond his health, +Methinks he should the sooner pay his debts, +And make a clear way to the gods. + +SERVILIUS +Good gods! + +TITUS +We cannot take this for answer, sir. + +FLAMINIUS +[Within] Servilius, help! My lord! my lord! + +Enter TIMON, in a rage, FLAMINIUS following + +TIMON +What, are my doors opposed against my passage? +Have I been ever free, and must my house +Be my retentive enemy, my gaol? +The place which I have feasted, does it now, +Like all mankind, show me an iron heart? +Lucilius' Servant Put in now, Titus. + +TITUS +My lord, here is my bill. +Lucilius' Servant Here's mine. + +HORTENSIUS +And mine, my lord. +Both +Varro's Servants And ours, my lord. + +PHILOTUS +All our bills. + +TIMON +Knock me down with 'em: cleave me to the girdle. +Lucilius' Servant Alas, my lord,- + +TIMON +Cut my heart in sums. + +TITUS +Mine, fifty talents. + +TIMON +Tell out my blood. +Lucilius' Servant Five thousand crowns, my lord. + +TIMON +Five thousand drops pays that. +What yours?--and yours? +Varro's + +First Servant +My lord,-- +Varro's + +Second Servant +My lord,-- + +TIMON +Tear me, take me, and the gods fall upon you! + +Exit + +HORTENSIUS +'Faith, I perceive our masters may throw their caps +at their money: these debts may well be called +desperate ones, for a madman owes 'em. + +Exeunt + +Re-enter TIMON and FLAVIUS + +TIMON +They have e'en put my breath from me, the slaves. +Creditors? devils! + +FLAVIUS +My dear lord,-- + +TIMON +What if it should be so? + +FLAVIUS +My lord,-- + +TIMON +I'll have it so. My steward! + +FLAVIUS +Here, my lord. + +TIMON +So fitly? Go, bid all my friends again, +Lucius, Lucullus, and Sempronius: +All, sirrah, all: +I'll once more feast the rascals. + +FLAVIUS +O my lord, +You only speak from your distracted soul; +There is not so much left, to furnish out +A moderate table. + +TIMON +Be't not in thy care; go, +I charge thee, invite them all: let in the tide +Of knaves once more; my cook and I'll provide. + +Exeunt + +SCENE V. The same. The senate-house. The Senate sitting. +First Senator +My lord, you have my voice to it; the fault's +Bloody; 'tis necessary he should die: +Nothing emboldens sin so much as mercy. + +Second Senator +Most true; the law shall bruise him. + +Enter ALCIBIADES, with Attendants + +ALCIBIADES +Honour, health, and compassion to the senate! + +First Senator +Now, captain? + +ALCIBIADES +I am an humble suitor to your virtues; +For pity is the virtue of the law, +And none but tyrants use it cruelly. +It pleases time and fortune to lie heavy +Upon a friend of mine, who, in hot blood, +Hath stepp'd into the law, which is past depth +To those that, without heed, do plunge into 't. +He is a man, setting his fate aside, +Of comely virtues: +Nor did he soil the fact with cowardice-- +An honour in him which buys out his fault-- +But with a noble fury and fair spirit, +Seeing his reputation touch'd to death, +He did oppose his foe: +And with such sober and unnoted passion +He did behave his anger, ere 'twas spent, +As if he had but proved an argument. + +First Senator +You undergo too strict a paradox, +Striving to make an ugly deed look fair: +Your words have took such pains as if they labour'd +To bring manslaughter into form and set quarrelling +Upon the head of valour; which indeed +Is valour misbegot and came into the world +When sects and factions were newly born: +He's truly valiant that can wisely suffer +The worst that man can breathe, and make his wrongs +His outsides, to wear them like his raiment, +carelessly, +And ne'er prefer his injuries to his heart, +To bring it into danger. +If wrongs be evils and enforce us kill, +What folly 'tis to hazard life for ill! + +ALCIBIADES +My lord,-- + +First Senator +You cannot make gross sins look clear: +To revenge is no valour, but to bear. + +ALCIBIADES +My lords, then, under favour, pardon me, +If I speak like a captain. +Why do fond men expose +THE END + diff --git a/html/android.html b/html/android.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..848bc49 --- /dev/null +++ b/html/android.html @@ -0,0 +1,65783 @@ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + BluetoothDevice | Android Developers + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

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+ + + + +

+ + + + + + +

+ +

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

+ +Summary: + + + + + + Constants + + + + | Inherited Constants + + + + | Fields + + + + + + + | Methods + + + + + | Inherited Methods + + +

+ +

+ + + +

BluetoothDevice

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

+ + + +Kotlin +|Java + + +

+ + + + +

++ public + + final + + class + BluetoothDevice + +
+ + ++ + extends Object + + + + + ++ + + implements + + Parcelable + + + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

java.lang.Object +
↳	android.bluetooth.BluetoothDevice +

+ + + + +

+ + +

Represents a remote Bluetooth device. A BluetoothDevice lets you create a connection with + the respective device or query information about it, such as the name, address, class, and + bonding state. + +

This class is really just a thin wrapper for a Bluetooth hardware address. Objects of this + class are immutable. Operations on this class are performed on the remote Bluetooth hardware + address, using the BluetoothAdapter that was used to create this BluetoothDevice. + +

To get a BluetoothDevice, use BluetoothAdapter.getRemoteDevice(String) to create one representing a device of a known MAC + address (which you can get through device discovery with BluetoothAdapter) or get one + from the set of bonded devices returned by BluetoothAdapter.getBondedDevices(). You can then open a BluetoothSocket for + communication with the remote device, using createRfcommSocketToServiceRecord(java.util.UUID) over + Bluetooth BR/EDR or using createL2capChannel(int) over Bluetooth LE. + +

+ +

Developer Guides

+ +

For more information about using Bluetooth, read the Bluetooth developer guide.

+ + + + + +

See also:

BluetoothAdapter
BluetoothSocket

+ + + + +

Summary

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Constants
`String`	+ `ACTION_ACL_CONNECTED` + Broadcast Action: Indicates a low level (ACL) connection has been established with a remote + device. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECTED` + Broadcast Action: Indicates a low level (ACL) disconnection from a remote device. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECT_REQUESTED` + Broadcast Action: Indicates that a low level (ACL) disconnection has been requested for a + remote device, and it will soon be disconnected. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_ALIAS_CHANGED` + Broadcast Action: Indicates the alias of a remote device has been changed. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED` + Broadcast Action: Indicates a change in the bond state of a remote device. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_CLASS_CHANGED` + Broadcast Action: Bluetooth class of a remote device has changed. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_FOUND` + Broadcast Action: Remote device discovered. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_NAME_CHANGED` + Broadcast Action: Indicates the friendly name of a remote device has been retrieved for the + first time, or changed since the last retrieval. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST` + Broadcast Action: This intent is used to broadcast PAIRING REQUEST + + For apps targeting `Build.VERSION_CODES#R` or lower, this requires the `Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_ADMIN` permission which can be gained with a simple `<uses-permission>` manifest tag. + + + +
`String`	+ `ACTION_UUID` + Broadcast Action: This intent is used to broadcast the `UUID` wrapped as a `ParcelUuid` of the remote device after it has been fetched. + + + +
`int`	+ `ADDRESS_TYPE_ANONYMOUS` + Address type used to indicate an anonymous advertisement. + + + +
`int`	+ `ADDRESS_TYPE_PUBLIC` + Hardware MAC Address of the device + + + +
`int`	+ `ADDRESS_TYPE_RANDOM` + Address is either resolvable, non-resolvable or static. + + + +
`int`	+ `ADDRESS_TYPE_UNKNOWN` + Address type is unknown or unavailable + + + +
`int`	+ `BOND_BONDED` + Indicates the remote device is bonded (paired). + + + +
`int`	+ `BOND_BONDING` + Indicates bonding (pairing) is in progress with the remote device. + + + +
`int`	+ `BOND_NONE` + Indicates the remote device is not bonded (paired). + + + +
`int`	+ `DEVICE_TYPE_CLASSIC` + Bluetooth device type, Classic - BR/EDR devices + + + +
`int`	+ `DEVICE_TYPE_DUAL` + Bluetooth device type, Dual Mode - BR/EDR/LE + + + +
`int`	+ `DEVICE_TYPE_LE` + Bluetooth device type, Low Energy - LE-only + + + +
`int`	+ `DEVICE_TYPE_UNKNOWN` + Bluetooth device type, Unknown + + + +
`int`	+ `ERROR` + Sentinel error value for this class. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_BOND_STATE` + Used as an int extra field in `ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED` intents. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_CLASS` + Used as a Parcelable `BluetoothClass` extra field in `ACTION_FOUND` and `ACTION_CLASS_CHANGED` intents. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_DEVICE` + Used as a Parcelable `BluetoothDevice` extra field in every intent broadcast by this + class. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_IS_COORDINATED_SET_MEMBER` + Used as a boolean extra field in `ACTION_FOUND` intents. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_NAME` + Used as a String extra field in `ACTION_NAME_CHANGED` and `ACTION_FOUND` + intents. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_PAIRING_KEY` + Used as an int extra field in `ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST` intents as the value of + passkey. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_PAIRING_VARIANT` + Used as an int extra field in `ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST` intents to indicate pairing + method used. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_PREVIOUS_BOND_STATE` + Used as an int extra field in `ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED` intents. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_RSSI` + Used as an optional short extra field in `ACTION_FOUND` intents. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_TRANSPORT` + Used as an int extra field in `ACTION_ACL_CONNECTED` and `ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECTED` intents to indicate which transport is connected. + + + +
`String`	+ `EXTRA_UUID` + Used as an extra field in `ACTION_UUID` intents, Contains the `ParcelUuid`s of the remote device which is a parcelable version of `UUID`. + + + +
`int`	+ `PAIRING_VARIANT_PASSKEY_CONFIRMATION` + The user will be prompted to confirm the passkey displayed on the screen or an app will + confirm the passkey for the user. + + + +
`int`	+ `PAIRING_VARIANT_PIN` + The user will be prompted to enter a pin or an app will enter a pin for user. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_LE_1M` + Bluetooth LE 1M PHY. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_LE_1M_MASK` + Bluetooth LE 1M PHY mask. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_LE_2M` + Bluetooth LE 2M PHY. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_LE_2M_MASK` + Bluetooth LE 2M PHY mask. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_LE_CODED` + Bluetooth LE Coded PHY. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_LE_CODED_MASK` + Bluetooth LE Coded PHY mask. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_OPTION_NO_PREFERRED` + No preferred coding when transmitting on the LE Coded PHY. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_OPTION_S2` + Prefer the S=2 coding to be used when transmitting on the LE Coded PHY. + + + +
`int`	+ `PHY_OPTION_S8` + Prefer the S=8 coding to be used when transmitting on the LE Coded PHY. + + + +
`int`	+ `TRANSPORT_AUTO` + No preference of physical transport for GATT connections to remote dual-mode devices + + + +
`int`	+ `TRANSPORT_BREDR` + Constant representing the BR/EDR transport. + + + +
`int`	+ `TRANSPORT_LE` + Constant representing the Bluetooth Low Energy (BLE) Transport. + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Inherited constants

+ From interface + android.os.Parcelable + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

`int`	+ `CONTENTS_FILE_DESCRIPTOR` + Descriptor bit used with `describeContents()`: indicates that + the Parcelable object's flattened representation includes a file descriptor. + + + +
`int`	+ `PARCELABLE_WRITE_RETURN_VALUE` + Flag for use with `writeToParcel(Parcel, int)`: the object being written + is a return value, that is the result of a function such as + "`Parcelable someFunction()`", + "`void someFunction(out Parcelable)`", or + "`void someFunction(inout Parcelable)`". + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Fields
`+ public + static + final + Creator<BluetoothDevice>`	+ `CREATOR` + + + + +

Public methods
`+ + + + + + BluetoothGatt` +	+ `+ connectGatt(Context context, boolean autoConnect, BluetoothGattCallback callback) +` + + Connect to GATT Server hosted by this device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothGatt` +	+ `+ connectGatt(Context context, boolean autoConnect, BluetoothGattCallback callback, int transport, int phy, Handler handler) +` + + Connect to GATT Server hosted by this device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothGatt` +	+ `+ connectGatt(Context context, boolean autoConnect, BluetoothGattCallback callback, int transport, int phy) +` + + Connect to GATT Server hosted by this device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothGatt` +	+ `+ connectGatt(Context context, boolean autoConnect, BluetoothGattCallback callback, int transport) +` + + Connect to GATT Server hosted by this device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + boolean` +	+ `+ createBond() +` + + Start the bonding (pairing) process with the remote device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothSocket` +	+ `+ createInsecureL2capChannel(int psm) +` + + Create a Bluetooth L2CAP Connection-oriented Channel (CoC) `BluetoothSocket` that can + be used to start a secure outgoing connection to the remote device with the same dynamic + protocol/service multiplexer (PSM) value. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothSocket` +	+ `+ createInsecureRfcommSocketToServiceRecord(UUID uuid) +` + + Create an RFCOMM `BluetoothSocket` socket ready to start an insecure outgoing + connection to this remote device using SDP lookup of uuid. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothSocket` +	+ `+ createL2capChannel(int psm) +` + + Create a Bluetooth L2CAP Connection-oriented Channel (CoC) `BluetoothSocket` that can + be used to start a secure outgoing connection to the remote device with the same dynamic + protocol/service multiplexer (PSM) value. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothSocket` +	+ `+ createRfcommSocketToServiceRecord(UUID uuid) +` + + Create an RFCOMM `BluetoothSocket` ready to start a secure outgoing connection to this + remote device using SDP lookup of uuid. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ describeContents() +` + + Describe the kinds of special objects contained in this Parcelable + instance's marshaled representation. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + boolean` +	+ `+ equals(Object o) +` + + Indicates whether some other object is "equal to" this one. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + boolean` +	+ `+ fetchUuidsWithSdp() +` + + Perform a service discovery on the remote device to get the UUIDs supported. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + String` +	+ `+ getAddress() +` + + Returns the hardware address of this BluetoothDevice. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ getAddressType() +` + + Returns the address type of this BluetoothDevice, one of `ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_PUBLIC)`, `ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_RANDOM)`, `ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_ANONYMOUS)`, or `ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_UNKNOWN)`. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + String` +	+ `+ getAlias() +` + + Get the locally modifiable name (alias) of the remote Bluetooth device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + BluetoothClass` +	+ `+ getBluetoothClass() +` + + Get the Bluetooth class of the remote device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ getBondState() +` + + Get the bond state of the remote device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + String` +	+ `+ getName() +` + + Get the friendly Bluetooth name of the remote device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ getType() +` + + Get the Bluetooth device type of the remote device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + ParcelUuid[]` +	+ `+ getUuids() +` + + Returns the supported features (UUIDs) of the remote device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ hashCode() +` + + Returns a hash code value for the object. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ setAlias(String alias) +` + + Sets the locally modifiable name (alias) of the remote Bluetooth device. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + boolean` +	+ `+ setPairingConfirmation(boolean confirm) +` + + Confirm passkey for `PAIRING_VARIANT_PASSKEY_CONFIRMATION` pairing. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + boolean` +	+ `+ setPin(byte[] pin) +` + + Set the pin during pairing when the pairing method is `PAIRING_VARIANT_PIN` + + + For apps targeting `Build.VERSION_CODES#R` or lower, this requires the `Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_ADMIN` permission which can be gained with a simple `<uses-permission>` manifest tag. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + String` +	+ `+ toString() +` + + Returns a string representation of this BluetoothDevice. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + void` +	+ `+ writeToParcel(Parcel out, int flags) +` + + Flatten this object in to a Parcel. + + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Inherited methods

+ From class +


+        
+          java.lang.Object
+        
+

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

`+ + + + + + Object` +	+ `+ clone() +` + + Creates and returns a copy of this object. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + boolean` +	+ `+ equals(Object obj) +` + + Indicates whether some other object is "equal to" this one. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + void` +	+ `+ finalize() +` + + Called by the garbage collector on an object when garbage collection + determines that there are no more references to the object. + + + + +
`+ + + + final + + Class<?>` +	+ `+ getClass() +` + + Returns the runtime class of this `Object`. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + int` +	+ `+ hashCode() +` + + Returns a hash code value for the object. + + + + +
`+ + + + final + + void` +	+ `+ notify() +` + + Wakes up a single thread that is waiting on this object's + monitor. + + + + +
`+ + + + final + + void` +	+ `+ notifyAll() +` + + Wakes up all threads that are waiting on this object's monitor. + + + + +
`+ + + + + + String` +	+ `+ toString() +` + + Returns a string representation of the object. + + + + +
`+ + + + final + + void` +	+ `+ wait(long timeoutMillis, int nanos) +` + + Causes the current thread to wait until it is awakened, typically + by being notified or interrupted, or until a + certain amount of real time has elapsed. + + + + +
`+ + + + final + + void` +	+ `+ wait(long timeoutMillis) +` + + Causes the current thread to wait until it is awakened, typically + by being notified or interrupted, or until a + certain amount of real time has elapsed. + + + + +
`+ + + + final + + void` +	+ `+ wait() +` + + Causes the current thread to wait until it is awakened, typically + by being notified or interrupted. + + + + +

+ From interface +


+        
+          android.os.Parcelable
+        
+

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

`+ abstract + + + + + int` +	+ `+ describeContents() +` + + Describe the kinds of special objects contained in this Parcelable + instance's marshaled representation. + + + + +
`+ abstract + + + + + void` +	+ `+ writeToParcel(Parcel dest, int flags) +` + + Flatten this object in to a Parcel. + + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Constants

+ + +

ACTION_ACL_CONNECTED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_ACL_CONNECTED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Indicates a low level (ACL) connection has been established with a remote + device. + +

Always contains the extra fields EXTRA_DEVICE and EXTRA_TRANSPORT. + +

ACL connections are managed automatically by the Android Bluetooth stack. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.ACL_CONNECTED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECTED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECTED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Indicates a low level (ACL) disconnection from a remote device. + +

Always contains the extra fields EXTRA_DEVICE and EXTRA_TRANSPORT. + +

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.ACL_DISCONNECTED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECT_REQUESTED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECT_REQUESTED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Indicates that a low level (ACL) disconnection has been requested for a + remote device, and it will soon be disconnected. + +

This is useful for graceful disconnection. Applications should use this intent as a hint + to immediately terminate higher level connections (RFCOMM, L2CAP, or profile connections) to + the remote device. + +

Always contains the extra field EXTRA_DEVICE. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.ACL_DISCONNECT_REQUESTED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_ALIAS_CHANGED

+ + Added in API level 30 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_ALIAS_CHANGED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Indicates the alias of a remote device has been changed. + +

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.ALIAS_CHANGED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Indicates a change in the bond state of a remote device. For example, if a + device is bonded (paired). + +

Always contains the extra fields EXTRA_DEVICE, EXTRA_BOND_STATE and + EXTRA_PREVIOUS_BOND_STATE. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.BOND_STATE_CHANGED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_CLASS_CHANGED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_CLASS_CHANGED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Bluetooth class of a remote device has changed. + +

Always contains the extra fields EXTRA_DEVICE and EXTRA_CLASS. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

See also:

BluetoothClass

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.CLASS_CHANGED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_FOUND

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_FOUND

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Remote device discovered. + +

Sent when a remote device is found during discovery. + +

Always contains the extra fields EXTRA_DEVICE and EXTRA_CLASS. Can + contain the extra fields EXTRA_NAME and/or EXTRA_RSSI and/or EXTRA_IS_COORDINATED_SET_MEMBER if they are available. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_SCAN permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ In addition, this requires either the Manifest.permission#ACCESS_FINE_LOCATION + permission or a strong assertion that you will never derive the physical location of the + device. You can make this assertion by declaring usesPermissionFlags="neverForLocation" on the relevant <uses-permission> manifest + tag, but it may restrict the types of Bluetooth devices you can interact with. + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_SCAN

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.FOUND" + + +

+ +

ACTION_NAME_CHANGED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_NAME_CHANGED

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: Indicates the friendly name of a remote device has been retrieved for the + first time, or changed since the last retrieval. + +

Always contains the extra fields EXTRA_DEVICE and EXTRA_NAME. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.NAME_CHANGED" + + +

+ +

ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST

+ + Added in API level 19 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: This intent is used to broadcast PAIRING REQUEST +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_ADMIN permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.PAIRING_REQUEST" + + +

+ +

ACTION_UUID

+ + Added in API level 15 + + + + +

+public static final String ACTION_UUID

+ + + + +

Broadcast Action: This intent is used to broadcast the UUID wrapped as a ParcelUuid of the remote device after it has been fetched. This intent is sent + only when the UUIDs of the remote device are requested to be fetched using Service Discovery + Protocol + +

Always contains the extra field EXTRA_DEVICE + +

Always contains the extra field EXTRA_UUID + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_ADMIN permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.action.UUID" + + +

+ +

ADDRESS_TYPE_ANONYMOUS

+ + Added in API level 35 + + + + +

+public static final int ADDRESS_TYPE_ANONYMOUS

+ + + + +

Address type used to indicate an anonymous advertisement.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 255 + (0x000000ff) + + +

+ +

ADDRESS_TYPE_PUBLIC

+ + Added in API level 31 + + + + +

+public static final int ADDRESS_TYPE_PUBLIC

+ + + + +

Hardware MAC Address of the device

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 0 + (0x00000000) + + +

+ +

ADDRESS_TYPE_RANDOM

+ + Added in API level 31 + + + + +

+public static final int ADDRESS_TYPE_RANDOM

+ + + + +

Address is either resolvable, non-resolvable or static.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 1 + (0x00000001) + + +

+ +

ADDRESS_TYPE_UNKNOWN

+ + Added in API level 33 + + + + +

+public static final int ADDRESS_TYPE_UNKNOWN

+ + + + +

Address type is unknown or unavailable

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 65535 + (0x0000ffff) + + +

+ +

BOND_BONDED

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final int BOND_BONDED

+ + + + +

Indicates the remote device is bonded (paired). + +

A shared link keys exists locally for the remote device, so communication can be + authenticated and encrypted. + +

Being bonded (paired) with a remote device does not necessarily mean the device is + currently connected. It just means that the pending procedure was completed at some earlier + time, and the link key is still stored locally, ready to use on the next connection.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 12 + (0x0000000c) + + +

+ +

BOND_BONDING

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final int BOND_BONDING

+ + + + +

Indicates bonding (pairing) is in progress with the remote device.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 11 + (0x0000000b) + + +

+ +

BOND_NONE

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final int BOND_NONE

+ + + + +

Indicates the remote device is not bonded (paired). + +

There is no shared link key with the remote device, so communication (if it is allowed at + all) will be unauthenticated and unencrypted.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 10 + (0x0000000a) + + +

+ +

DEVICE_TYPE_CLASSIC

+ + Added in API level 18 + + + + +

+public static final int DEVICE_TYPE_CLASSIC

+ + + + +

Bluetooth device type, Classic - BR/EDR devices

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 1 + (0x00000001) + + +

+ +

DEVICE_TYPE_DUAL

+ + Added in API level 18 + + + + +

+public static final int DEVICE_TYPE_DUAL

+ + + + +

Bluetooth device type, Dual Mode - BR/EDR/LE

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 3 + (0x00000003) + + +

+ +

DEVICE_TYPE_LE

+ + Added in API level 18 + + + + +

+public static final int DEVICE_TYPE_LE

+ + + + +

Bluetooth device type, Low Energy - LE-only

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 2 + (0x00000002) + + +

+ +

DEVICE_TYPE_UNKNOWN

+ + Added in API level 18 + + + + +

+public static final int DEVICE_TYPE_UNKNOWN

+ + + + +

Bluetooth device type, Unknown

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 0 + (0x00000000) + + +

+ +

ERROR

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final int ERROR

+ + + + +

Sentinel error value for this class. Guaranteed to not equal any other integer constant in + this class. Provided as a convenience for functions that require a sentinel error value, for + example: + +

Intent.getIntExtra(BluetoothDevice.EXTRA_BOND_STATE, + BluetoothDevice.ERROR)

+ + +

Constant Value: + + -2147483648 + (0x80000000) + + +

+ +

EXTRA_BOND_STATE

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_BOND_STATE

+ + + + +

Used as an int extra field in ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED intents. Contains the bond + state of the remote device. + +

Possible values are: BOND_NONE, BOND_BONDING, BOND_BONDED.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.BOND_STATE" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_CLASS

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_CLASS

+ + + + +

Used as a Parcelable BluetoothClass extra field in ACTION_FOUND and ACTION_CLASS_CHANGED intents.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.CLASS" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_DEVICE

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_DEVICE

+ + + + +

Used as a Parcelable BluetoothDevice extra field in every intent broadcast by this + class. It contains the BluetoothDevice that the intent applies to.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.DEVICE" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_IS_COORDINATED_SET_MEMBER

+ + Added in API level 33 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_IS_COORDINATED_SET_MEMBER

+ + + + +

Used as a boolean extra field in ACTION_FOUND intents. It contains the information + if device is discovered as member of a coordinated set or not. Pairing with device that + belongs to a set would trigger pairing with the rest of set members. See Bluetooth CSIP + specification for more details.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.extra.IS_COORDINATED_SET_MEMBER" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_NAME

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_NAME

+ + + + +

Used as a String extra field in ACTION_NAME_CHANGED and ACTION_FOUND + intents. It contains the friendly Bluetooth name.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.NAME" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_PAIRING_KEY

+ + Added in API level 19 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_PAIRING_KEY

+ + + + +

Used as an int extra field in ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST intents as the value of + passkey. The Bluetooth Passkey is a 6-digit numerical value represented as integer value in + the range 0x00000000 \u2013 0x000F423F (000000 to 999999).

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.PAIRING_KEY" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_PAIRING_VARIANT

+ + Added in API level 19 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_PAIRING_VARIANT

+ + + + +

Used as an int extra field in ACTION_PAIRING_REQUEST intents to indicate pairing + method used. Possible values are: PAIRING_VARIANT_PIN, PAIRING_VARIANT_PASSKEY_CONFIRMATION,

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.PAIRING_VARIANT" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_PREVIOUS_BOND_STATE

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_PREVIOUS_BOND_STATE

+ + + + +

Used as an int extra field in ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED intents. Contains the + previous bond state of the remote device. + +

Possible values are: BOND_NONE, BOND_BONDING, BOND_BONDED.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.PREVIOUS_BOND_STATE" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_RSSI

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_RSSI

+ + + + +

Used as an optional short extra field in ACTION_FOUND intents. Contains the RSSI + value of the remote device as reported by the Bluetooth hardware.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.RSSI" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_TRANSPORT

+ + Added in API level 33 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_TRANSPORT

+ + + + +

Used as an int extra field in ACTION_ACL_CONNECTED and ACTION_ACL_DISCONNECTED intents to indicate which transport is connected. Possible values + are: TRANSPORT_BREDR and TRANSPORT_LE.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.TRANSPORT" + + +

+ +

EXTRA_UUID

+ + Added in API level 15 + + + + +

+public static final String EXTRA_UUID

+ + + + +

Used as an extra field in ACTION_UUID intents, Contains the ParcelUuids of the remote device which is a parcelable version of UUID. A + null EXTRA_UUID indicates a timeout.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + "android.bluetooth.device.extra.UUID" + + +

+ +

PAIRING_VARIANT_PASSKEY_CONFIRMATION

+ + Added in API level 19 + + + + +

+public static final int PAIRING_VARIANT_PASSKEY_CONFIRMATION

+ + + + +

The user will be prompted to confirm the passkey displayed on the screen or an app will + confirm the passkey for the user.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 2 + (0x00000002) + + +

+ +

PAIRING_VARIANT_PIN

+ + Added in API level 19 + + + + +

+public static final int PAIRING_VARIANT_PIN

+ + + + +

The user will be prompted to enter a pin or an app will enter a pin for user.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 0 + (0x00000000) + + +

+ +

PHY_LE_1M

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_LE_1M

+ + + + +

Bluetooth LE 1M PHY. Used to refer to LE 1M Physical Channel for advertising, scanning or + connection.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 1 + (0x00000001) + + +

+ +

PHY_LE_1M_MASK

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_LE_1M_MASK

+ + + + +

Bluetooth LE 1M PHY mask. Used to specify LE 1M Physical Channel as one of many available + options in a bitmask.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 1 + (0x00000001) + + +

+ +

PHY_LE_2M

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_LE_2M

+ + + + +

Bluetooth LE 2M PHY. Used to refer to LE 2M Physical Channel for advertising, scanning or + connection.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 2 + (0x00000002) + + +

+ +

PHY_LE_2M_MASK

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_LE_2M_MASK

+ + + + +

Bluetooth LE 2M PHY mask. Used to specify LE 2M Physical Channel as one of many available + options in a bitmask.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 2 + (0x00000002) + + +

+ +

PHY_LE_CODED

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_LE_CODED

+ + + + +

Bluetooth LE Coded PHY. Used to refer to LE Coded Physical Channel for advertising, scanning + or connection.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 3 + (0x00000003) + + +

+ +

PHY_LE_CODED_MASK

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_LE_CODED_MASK

+ + + + +

Bluetooth LE Coded PHY mask. Used to specify LE Coded Physical Channel as one of many + available options in a bitmask.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 4 + (0x00000004) + + +

+ +

PHY_OPTION_NO_PREFERRED

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_OPTION_NO_PREFERRED

+ + + + +

No preferred coding when transmitting on the LE Coded PHY.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 0 + (0x00000000) + + +

+ +

PHY_OPTION_S2

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_OPTION_S2

+ + + + +

Prefer the S=2 coding to be used when transmitting on the LE Coded PHY.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 1 + (0x00000001) + + +

+ +

PHY_OPTION_S8

+ + Added in API level 26 + + + + +

+public static final int PHY_OPTION_S8

+ + + + +

Prefer the S=8 coding to be used when transmitting on the LE Coded PHY.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 2 + (0x00000002) + + +

+ +

TRANSPORT_AUTO

+ + Added in API level 23 + + + + +

+public static final int TRANSPORT_AUTO

+ + + + +

No preference of physical transport for GATT connections to remote dual-mode devices

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 0 + (0x00000000) + + +

+ +

TRANSPORT_BREDR

+ + Added in API level 23 + + + + +

+public static final int TRANSPORT_BREDR

+ + + + +

Constant representing the BR/EDR transport.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 1 + (0x00000001) + + +

+ +

TRANSPORT_LE

+ + Added in API level 23 + + + + +

+public static final int TRANSPORT_LE

+ + + + +

Constant representing the Bluetooth Low Energy (BLE) Transport.

+ + +

Constant Value: + + 2 + (0x00000002) + + +

+ + + + + + + + +

Fields

+ + +

CREATOR

+ + Added in API level 5 + + + + +

+public static final Creator<BluetoothDevice> CREATOR

+ + + + +

+ + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Public methods

+ + +

connectGatt

+ Added in API level 18 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothGatt connectGatt (Context context, 
+                boolean autoConnect, 
+                BluetoothGattCallback callback)

+ + + + +

Connect to GATT Server hosted by this device. Caller acts as GATT client. The callback is + used to deliver results to Caller, such as connection status as well as any further GATT + client operations. The method returns a BluetoothGatt instance. You can use BluetoothGatt to + conduct GATT client operations. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Parameters
`context`	+ `Context`
`autoConnect`	+ `boolean`: Whether to directly connect to the remote device (false) or to + automatically connect as soon as the remote device becomes available (true).
`callback`	+ `BluetoothGattCallback`: GATT callback handler that will receive asynchronous callbacks.

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothGatt`

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IllegalArgumentException`	if callback is null

+ + +

+ +

connectGatt

+ Added in API level 26 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothGatt connectGatt (Context context, 
+                boolean autoConnect, 
+                BluetoothGattCallback callback, 
+                int transport, 
+                int phy, 
+                Handler handler)

+ + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Parameters
`context`	+ `Context`
`autoConnect`	+ `boolean`: Whether to directly connect to the remote device (false) or to + automatically connect as soon as the remote device becomes available (true).
`callback`	+ `BluetoothGattCallback`: GATT callback handler that will receive asynchronous callbacks.
`transport`	+ `int`: preferred transport for GATT connections to remote dual-mode devices `TRANSPORT_AUTO` or `BluetoothDevice#TRANSPORT_BREDR` or `TRANSPORT_LE`
`phy`	+ `int`: preferred PHY for connections to remote LE device. Bitwise OR of any of `PHY_LE_1M_MASK`, `BluetoothDevice#PHY_LE_2M_MASK`, an d`PHY_LE_CODED_MASK`. This option does not take effect if `autoConnect` is set to true.
`handler`	+ `Handler`: The handler to use for the callback. If `null`, callbacks will happen on + an un-specified background thread.

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothGatt`

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`NullPointerException`	if callback is null

+ + +

+ +

connectGatt

+ Added in API level 26 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothGatt connectGatt (Context context, 
+                boolean autoConnect, 
+                BluetoothGattCallback callback, 
+                int transport, 
+                int phy)

+ + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Parameters
`context`	+ `Context`
`autoConnect`	+ `boolean`: Whether to directly connect to the remote device (false) or to + automatically connect as soon as the remote device becomes available (true).
`callback`	+ `BluetoothGattCallback`: GATT callback handler that will receive asynchronous callbacks.
`transport`	+ `int`: preferred transport for GATT connections to remote dual-mode devices `TRANSPORT_AUTO` or `BluetoothDevice#TRANSPORT_BREDR` or `TRANSPORT_LE`
`phy`	+ `int`: preferred PHY for connections to remote LE device. Bitwise OR of any of `PHY_LE_1M_MASK`, `BluetoothDevice#PHY_LE_2M_MASK`, and `PHY_LE_CODED_MASK`. This option does not take effect if `autoConnect` is set to true.

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothGatt`

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`NullPointerException`	if callback is null

+ + +

+ +

connectGatt

+ Added in API level 23 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothGatt connectGatt (Context context, 
+                boolean autoConnect, 
+                BluetoothGattCallback callback, 
+                int transport)

+ + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

Parameters
`context`	+ `Context`
`autoConnect`	+ `boolean`: Whether to directly connect to the remote device (false) or to + automatically connect as soon as the remote device becomes available (true).
`callback`	+ `BluetoothGattCallback`: GATT callback handler that will receive asynchronous callbacks.
`transport`	+ `int`: preferred transport for GATT connections to remote dual-mode devices `TRANSPORT_AUTO` or `BluetoothDevice#TRANSPORT_BREDR` or `TRANSPORT_LE`

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothGatt`

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IllegalArgumentException`	if callback is null

+ + +

+ +

createBond

+ Added in API level 19 +

+ + + +

+public boolean createBond ()

+ + + + +

Start the bonding (pairing) process with the remote device. + +

This is an asynchronous call, it will return immediately. Register for ACTION_BOND_STATE_CHANGED intents to be notified when the bonding process completes, and + its result. + +

Android system services will handle the necessary user interactions to confirm and + complete the bonding process. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_ADMIN permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`boolean`	false on immediate error, true if bonding will begin

+ +

createInsecureL2capChannel

+ Added in API level 29 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothSocket createInsecureL2capChannel (int psm)

+ + + + +

Create a Bluetooth L2CAP Connection-oriented Channel (CoC) BluetoothSocket that can + be used to start a secure outgoing connection to the remote device with the same dynamic + protocol/service multiplexer (PSM) value. The supported Bluetooth transport is LE only. + +

This is designed to be used with BluetoothAdapter.listenUsingInsecureL2capChannel() for peer-peer Bluetooth applications. + +

Use BluetoothSocket#connect to initiate the outgoing connection. + +

Application using this API is responsible for obtaining PSM value from remote device. + +

The communication channel may not have an authenticated link key, i.e. it may be subject + to person-in-the-middle attacks. Use createL2capChannel(int) if an encrypted and + authenticated communication channel is possible. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`psm`	+ `int`: dynamic PSM value from remote device

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothSocket`	a CoC #BluetoothSocket ready for an outgoing connection + This value cannot be `null`.

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IOException`	on error, for example Bluetooth not available, or insufficient + permissions

+ + +

+ +

createInsecureRfcommSocketToServiceRecord

+ Added in API level 10 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothSocket createInsecureRfcommSocketToServiceRecord (UUID uuid)

+ + + + +

Create an RFCOMM BluetoothSocket socket ready to start an insecure outgoing + connection to this remote device using SDP lookup of uuid. + +

The communication channel will not have an authenticated link key i.e. it will be subject + to person-in-the-middle attacks. For Bluetooth 2.1 devices, the link key will be encrypted, + as encryption is mandatory. For legacy devices (pre Bluetooth 2.1 devices) the link key will + be not be encrypted. Use createRfcommSocketToServiceRecord(UUID) if an encrypted and + authenticated communication channel is desired. + +

This is designed to be used with BluetoothAdapter.listenUsingInsecureRfcommWithServiceRecord(String, UUID) for peer-peer Bluetooth + applications. + +

Use BluetoothSocket#connect to initiate the outgoing connection. This will also + perform an SDP lookup of the given uuid to determine which channel to connect to. + +

The remote device will be authenticated and communication on this socket will be + encrypted. + +

Hint: If you are connecting to a Bluetooth serial board then try using the well-known SPP + UUID 00001101-0000-1000-8000-00805F9B34FB. However if you are connecting to an Android peer + then please generate your own unique UUID. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`uuid`	+ `UUID`: service record uuid to lookup RFCOMM channel

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothSocket`	a RFCOMM BluetoothServerSocket ready for an outgoing connection

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IOException`	on error, for example Bluetooth not available, or insufficient + permissions

+ + +

+ +

createL2capChannel

+ Added in API level 29 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothSocket createL2capChannel (int psm)

+ + + + +

This is designed to be used with BluetoothAdapter#listenUsingL2capChannel() for + peer-peer Bluetooth applications. + +

Use BluetoothSocket#connect to initiate the outgoing connection. + +

Application using this API is responsible for obtaining PSM value from remote device. + +

The remote device will be authenticated and communication on this socket will be + encrypted. + +

Use this socket if an authenticated socket link is possible. Authentication refers to the + authentication of the link key to prevent person-in-the-middle type of attacks. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`psm`	+ `int`: dynamic PSM value from remote device

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothSocket`	a CoC #BluetoothSocket ready for an outgoing connection + This value cannot be `null`.

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IOException`	on error, for example Bluetooth not available, or insufficient + permissions

+ + +

+ +

createRfcommSocketToServiceRecord

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothSocket createRfcommSocketToServiceRecord (UUID uuid)

+ + + + +

Create an RFCOMM BluetoothSocket ready to start a secure outgoing connection to this + remote device using SDP lookup of uuid. + +

This is designed to be used with BluetoothAdapter.listenUsingRfcommWithServiceRecord(String, UUID) for peer-peer Bluetooth applications. + +

Use BluetoothSocket#connect to initiate the outgoing connection. This will also + perform an SDP lookup of the given uuid to determine which channel to connect to. + +

The remote device will be authenticated and communication on this socket will be + encrypted. + +

Use this socket only if an authenticated socket link is possible. Authentication refers to + the authentication of the link key to prevent person-in-the-middle type of attacks. For + example, for Bluetooth 2.1 devices, if any of the devices does not have an input and output + capability or just has the ability to display a numeric key, a secure socket connection is + not possible. In such a case, use createInsecureRfcommSocketToServiceRecord(UUID). For + more details, refer to the Security Model section 5.2 (vol 3) of Bluetooth Core Specification + version 2.1 + EDR. + +

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`uuid`	+ `UUID`: service record uuid to lookup RFCOMM channel

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothSocket`	a RFCOMM BluetoothServerSocket ready for an outgoing connection

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IOException`	on error, for example Bluetooth not available, or insufficient + permissions

+ + +

+ +

describeContents

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public int describeContents ()

+ + + + +

Describe the kinds of special objects contained in this Parcelable + instance's marshaled representation. For example, if the object will + include a file descriptor in the output of writeToParcel(android.os.Parcel, int), + the return value of this method must include the + CONTENTS_FILE_DESCRIPTOR bit.

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`int`	a bitmask indicating the set of special object types marshaled + by this Parcelable object instance. + + Value is either `0` or `CONTENTS_FILE_DESCRIPTOR`

+ +

equals

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public boolean equals (Object o)

+ + + + +

Indicates whether some other object is "equal to" this one. +

+ The equals method implements an equivalence relation + on non-null object references: +

It is reflexive: for any non-null reference value + x, x.equals(x) should return + true. +
It is symmetric: for any non-null reference values + x and y, x.equals(y) + should return true if and only if + y.equals(x) returns true. +
It is transitive: for any non-null reference values + x, y, and z, if + x.equals(y) returns true and + y.equals(z) returns true, then + x.equals(z) should return true. +
It is consistent: for any non-null reference values + x and y, multiple invocations of + x.equals(y) consistently return true + or consistently return false, provided no + information used in equals comparisons on the + objects is modified. +
For any non-null reference value x, + x.equals(null) should return false. +

+ +

+ An equivalence relation partitions the elements it operates on + into equivalence classes; all the members of an + equivalence class are equal to each other. Members of an + equivalence class are substitutable for each other, at least + for some purposes.

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`o`	+ `Object`: This value may be `null`.

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`boolean`	`true` if this object is the same as the obj + argument; `false` otherwise.

+ +

fetchUuidsWithSdp

+ Added in API level 15 +

+ + + +

+public boolean fetchUuidsWithSdp ()

+ + + + +

Perform a service discovery on the remote device to get the UUIDs supported. + +

This API is asynchronous and ACTION_UUID intent is sent, with the UUIDs supported + by the remote end. If there is an error in getting the SDP records or if the process takes a + long time, or the device is bonding and we have its UUIDs cached, ACTION_UUID intent + is sent with the UUIDs that is currently present in the cache. Clients should use the getUuids() to get UUIDs if service discovery is not to be performed. If there is an ongoing + bonding process, service discovery or device inquiry, the request will be queued. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`boolean`	False if the check fails, True if the process of initiating an ACL connection to the + remote device was started or cached UUIDs will be broadcast.

+ +

getAddress

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public String getAddress ()

+ + + + +

Returns the hardware address of this BluetoothDevice. + +

For example, "00:11:22:AA:BB:CC".

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`String`	Bluetooth hardware address as string

+ +

getAddressType

+ Added in API level 35 +

+ + + +

+public int getAddressType ()

+ + + + +

Returns the address type of this BluetoothDevice, one of ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_PUBLIC), ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_RANDOM), ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_ANONYMOUS), or ERROR(/ADDRESS_TYPE_UNKNOWN).

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`int`	Bluetooth address type + + Value is `ADDRESS_TYPE_PUBLIC`, `ADDRESS_TYPE_RANDOM`, `ADDRESS_TYPE_ANONYMOUS`, or `ADDRESS_TYPE_UNKNOWN`

+ +

getAlias

+ Added in API level 30 +

+ + + +

+public String getAlias ()

+ + + + +

Get the locally modifiable name (alias) of the remote Bluetooth device. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`String`	the Bluetooth alias, the friendly device name if no alias, or null if there was a + problem

+ +

getBluetoothClass

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public BluetoothClass getBluetoothClass ()

+ + + + +

Get the Bluetooth class of the remote device. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`BluetoothClass`	Bluetooth class object, or null on error

+ +

getBondState

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public int getBondState ()

+ + + + +

Get the bond state of the remote device. + +

Possible values for the bond state are: BOND_NONE, BOND_BONDING, BOND_BONDED. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`int`	the bond state

+ +

getName

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public String getName ()

+ + + + +

Get the friendly Bluetooth name of the remote device. + +

The local adapter will automatically retrieve remote names when performing a device scan, + and will cache them. This method just returns the name for this device from the cache. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`String`	the Bluetooth name, or null if there was a problem.

+ +

getType

+ Added in API level 18 +

+ + + +

+public int getType ()

+ + + + +

Get the Bluetooth device type of the remote device. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`int`	the device type `DEVICE_TYPE_CLASSIC`, `DEVICE_TYPE_LE` `DEVICE_TYPE_DUAL`. `DEVICE_TYPE_UNKNOWN` if it's not available

+ +

getUuids

+ Added in API level 15 +

+ + + +

+public ParcelUuid[] getUuids ()

+ + + + +

Returns the supported features (UUIDs) of the remote device. + +

This method does not start a service discovery procedure to retrieve the UUIDs from the + remote device. Instead, the local cached copy of the service UUIDs are returned. + +

Use fetchUuidsWithSdp() if fresh UUIDs are desired. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`ParcelUuid[]`	the supported features (UUIDs) of the remote device, or null on error

+ +

hashCode

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public int hashCode ()

+ + + + +

Returns a hash code value for the object. This method is + supported for the benefit of hash tables such as those provided by + HashMap. +

+ The general contract of hashCode is: +

Whenever it is invoked on the same object more than once during + an execution of a Java application, the hashCode method + must consistently return the same integer, provided no information + used in equals comparisons on the object is modified. + This integer need not remain consistent from one execution of an + application to another execution of the same application. +
If two objects are equal according to the equals method, then calling the hashCode method on each of the two objects must produce the + same integer result. +
It is not required that if two objects are unequal + according to the equals method, then + calling the hashCode method on each of the two objects + must produce distinct integer results. However, the programmer + should be aware that producing distinct integer results for + unequal objects may improve the performance of hash tables. +

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`int`	a hash code value for this object.

+ +

setAlias

+ Added in API level 31 +

+ + + +

+public int setAlias (String alias)

+ + + + +

Sets the locally modifiable name (alias) of the remote Bluetooth device. This method + overwrites the previously stored alias. The new alias is saved in local storage so that the + change is preserved over power cycles. + +

This method requires the calling app to be associated with Companion Device Manager (see + CompanionDeviceManager.associate(AssociationRequest, android.companion.CompanionDeviceManager.Callback, Handler)) and have the Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission. Alternatively, if the caller has + the Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_PRIVILEGED permission, they can bypass the + Companion Device Manager association requirement as well as other permission requirements. + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`alias`	+ `String`: is the new locally modifiable name for the remote Bluetooth device which must be + the empty string. If null, we clear the alias.

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`int`	whether the alias was successfully changed + Value is `BluetoothStatusCodes.SUCCESS`, `BluetoothStatusCodes.ERROR_BLUETOOTH_NOT_ENABLED`, `BluetoothStatusCodes.ERROR_BLUETOOTH_NOT_ALLOWED`, `BluetoothStatusCodes.ERROR_MISSING_BLUETOOTH_CONNECT_PERMISSION`, or `BluetoothStatusCodes.ERROR_DEVICE_NOT_BONDED`

+ + + + + + +

Throws
`IllegalArgumentException`	if the alias is the empty string

+ + +

+ +

setPairingConfirmation

+ Added in API level 19 +

+ + + +

+public boolean setPairingConfirmation (boolean confirm)

+ + + + +

Confirm passkey for PAIRING_VARIANT_PASSKEY_CONFIRMATION pairing. + +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT and Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_PRIVILEGED

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`confirm`	+ `boolean`

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`boolean`	true confirmation has been sent out false for error

+ +

setPin

+ Added in API level 19 +

+ + + +

+public boolean setPin (byte[] pin)

+ + + + +

Set the pin during pairing when the pairing method is PAIRING_VARIANT_PIN + +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#R or lower, this requires the Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_ADMIN permission which can be gained with a simple <uses-permission> manifest tag. +
+ For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES#S or or higher, this requires the + Manifest.permission#BLUETOOTH_CONNECT permission which can be gained with Activity.requestPermissions(String[], int). +
+ Requires Manifest.permission.BLUETOOTH_CONNECT

+ + + + + + +

Parameters
`pin`	+ `byte`

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`boolean`	true pin has been set false for error

+ +

toString

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public String toString ()

+ + + + +

Returns a string representation of this BluetoothDevice. + +

For apps targeting Build.VERSION_CODES.UPSIDE_DOWN_CAKE (API level 34) + or higher, this returns the MAC address of the device redacted by replacing the hexadecimal + digits of leftmost 4 bytes (in big endian order) with "XX", e.g., "XX:XX:XX:XX:12:34". For + apps targeting earlier versions, the MAC address is returned without redaction. + +

Warning: The return value of toString() may change in the future. It is intended + to be used in logging statements. Thus apps should never rely on the return value of toString() in their logic. Always use other appropriate APIs instead (e.g., use getAddress() to get the MAC address).

+ + + + + + +

Returns
`String`	string representation of this BluetoothDevice

+ +

writeToParcel

+ Added in API level 5 +

+ + + +

+public void writeToParcel (Parcel out, 
+                int flags)

+ + + + +

Flatten this object in to a Parcel.

+ + + + + + + + + + +

Parameters
`out`	+ `Parcel`: The Parcel in which the object should be written. + This value cannot be `null`.
`flags`	+ `int`: Additional flags about how the object should be written. + May be 0 or `Parcelable.PARCELABLE_WRITE_RETURN_VALUE`. + + Value is either `0` or a combination of `Parcelable.PARCELABLE_WRITE_RETURN_VALUE`, and android.os.Parcelable.PARCELABLE_ELIDE_DUPLICATES

+ +

+ + + + + + + + + + + +

+ + +

+ + + + + + +

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

+ + + +

Content and code samples on this page are subject to the licenses described in the Content License. Java and OpenJDK are trademarks or registered trademarks of Oracle and/or its affiliates.

Last updated 2024-06-18 UTC.

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+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + \ No newline at end of file diff --git a/html/tochb.html b/html/tochb.html new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0592e3a --- /dev/null +++ b/html/tochb.html @@ -0,0 +1,45937 @@ + + + + +A dictionary of Tocharian B + + + + +A dictionary of Tocharian B by Douglas Q. Adams +(Leiden Studies in Indo-European 10), xxxiv, 830 pp., +Rodopi: Amsterdam – Atlanta, 1999. +[The k̂ of that book is called ḱ here.] +
+A second, much enlarged, edition (964 pp.) has appeared +in +print and on-line +in 2013. + +

+aṃśūk +(n.) +‘(upper) garment’
+[aṃśūk, -, aṃśūk//] +somonaṃts no aṃtsanemeṃ litau aṃ[śuk] ‘the aṃśuka-garment [has] slipped from the shoulders of some [of them]’ (H-149-ADD.13b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989:7]). +∎From BHS aṃśuka-. +

+ + +
+

+akañc +([indeclinable?] adj.) +‘± distant, remote’
+akäñc ṣpä leke asān = BHS prāntaṃ ca śayanāsanam (U-24a3). +∎A derivative of āke ‘edge,’ q.v., as TchA ākiñc is to āk. +See also akañcar. +

+ + +
+

+akañcar +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘± distant, remote’
+akañcar wṣeññaṃ /// = BHS prāntāni śayanāsanāni (542b3). +∎A derivative of the preceding entry. +

+ + +
+

+akappi +(n.) +‘impurity’
+[akappi, -, -//-, -, akappinta] +/// kektseñe akappi ste ‘the body is an impurity’ (121b5), akappī = BHS aśuciṃ (529a3). +∎From BHS akalpya- (or more likely some Prakrit equivalent). +

+ + +
+

+akaru +(n.) +‘Commiphora roxburghii (Arn.) Engl.’ [aka C. agallocha (W. & A.) Engl., Amyris agallocha, A. commiphora Roxb., etc.]? (Filliozat) or ‘aloe’? (Pinault) (a medical ingredient)
+[akaru, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS agaru-. +See also okaro. +

+ + +
+

+akart(t)e +(adv.) +‘near’
+[lareñ s_äsuś]kañ plamas-ñ akarte ‘[my] dear sons, set yourselves before me!’ (46b4). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (1972[74]:141-2, 1976:141-2) posits a connection with Lithuanian gretaĩ ~ gretà ‘beside,’ gretà ‘proximity,’ grẽtas ‘neighbor.’ He assumes a PIE *gṛto- as the antecedent of the Tocharian form (though a *greto- with late metathesis of *-rä- to *-är- would also do), prefixed by the intensive prefix ā-. However, contra VW, the usual intensive prefix e(n)- occurs with an initial ā- only when an -ā- follows in the next syllable. Nevertheless the equation is attractive and perhaps we have the verbal prefix ā- ‘± near,’ q.v., instead (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:118-119). +

+ + +
+

+akalṣälle +(nm.) +‘pupil’
+[akalṣälle, akalṣälyepi, -//akalṣälyi, akalṣälyeṃts, akalṣälyeṃ] +omp akalṣlyeṃts pelaikn=āksaṣṣi ‘there he instructed [his] disciples in the law’ (3b3), krentäṃ akalṣälyeṃ = BHS sacchiṣyāṃ (H-ADD.149.62a2 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). +∎The gerund of ākl-, q.v., used as a nomen agentis. +

+ + +
+

+akalye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘learning, study’ [āklyi yām- ‘practice, school oneself’]
+[akalye, -, āklyi//] +āklyi yāmoṣ papāṣṣorñecci = BHS abhyavacīrṇa brahma-[ca]rya (542b2), mā āyorṣṣe kreṃt waṣmoṃmpa āklyi yāmu ‘[he has] not schooled himself in the good friendship of giving’ (K-6a3), [aiṣṣeñca] ṣpä mäsketär su nauṣ cmelaṣṣe āklyisa ‘he is also generous through the study of prior births’ (K-6b1). +∎A nomen actionis from ākl- ‘learn,’ q.v. +See also ākl-, akalṣälle, and aklyilñe. +

+ + +
+

+akākatte* +(adj.) +‘uninvited’
+[akākatte, -, -//] +(331b1). +∎Privative of kāk- ‘invite,’ q.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:21-22). +

+ + +
+

+akālk +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘wish’ [akālk ñäsk- ‘cherish a wish’]
+[akālk, akālkäntse, akālk//-, -, akālkänta] +karsnaṃ pärmank ṣañ śāmnaṃts mäntaṃ pw akālkänta ‘it cuts off hope and destroys the wishes of his own people’ (3b7), pw akālkänta kanṣeñca ‘fulfilling all wishes’ (14a5), ñäṣṣītr= ākālk seyi cmelñeṣṣe ‘he cherished a wish for the birth of a son’ (42b4). + -- akālkäṣṣe ‘prtng to a wish’ (AMB-b4); +
+akālkätstse ‘having a wish’ (101a1). +∎TchA ākāl ‘id.’ and B akālk reflect independent borrowings from Middle Iranian, presumably Sogdian, where we have āɣal(ak)- ‘wish’ from an earlier Iranian āɣaδ--cf. Parthian āgadaka- ‘wish’ (Szemerényi, 1966: 220-221, VW:622). +

+ + +
+

+akāśadhātu +(n.) +‘element of empty space’
+[akāśadhātu, akāśadhātuntse, akāśadhātu//] +(178a5). +∎From BHS ākāśa-dhātu-. +See also akāśe. +

+ + +
+

+akāśe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sky, air, empty space’
+[akāśe, akāśäntse, akāś//] +[ścma]re ponta [tsä]nkär [r]āmtä akāśne ‘they all stood like a [mountain-]peak in the sky’ (365a3), akāśne maś mantä ksa wīpä[ṣṣäṃ] mā ‘he never shakes [his] fist in the air’ (597a5). + -- akaśaṣṣe* ‘prtng to sky or air’ (338a2). +∎From BHS ākāśa- +

+ + +
+

+akäñc +See akañc. +

+ + +
+

+akuśal +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘inauspicious’
+∎From BHS akuśala- (200b3). +

+ + +
+

+akṛtajñe +(adj.) +‘ungrateful’
+[m: akṛtajñe, -, -//akṛtajñi, -, -] +akṛtatñi [sic] (230b2), akṛtajñe śaumo rā mā su lkāträ nyatsene ‘like the ungrateful man, he does not see his danger’ (255a3). +∎Like TchA akritānik from BHS akṛtajña-. +

+ + +
+

+akek +(adv.) +‘finally’
+akek postäṃ sruka ‘finally later he died’ (25a2). +∎From āke ‘end’ plus the strengthening particle k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+akeññe +(adj.) +‘Agnean’ (?)
+[m: akeññe, akeññepi, -//] +akeñe ypoyämoko t[e] ñī pne ‘the akeññe "land-elder;" this [is] my [mark]: PNE’ (Lévi, 1913:320 -a4). +∎The yapoyämoko is some sort of official which, in its other attestations, is modified by an adjective of place. Akeññe must be an adjective derived form āke ‘end.’ Its meaning must (originally) have been something on the order of ‘pertaining to the border’ or the like. It is most tempting to follow Sieg (1937) and see in this TchB word the equivalent of Agni, the BHS designation of the "Tocharian A state" or Tumshuqese agñ(y)e xšera of the same meaning. The Tocharian A state would then have originally been something like ‘The March’ (cf. Old English Mierce ‘Mercia,’ Italian Le Marche, or the Ukraine). +

+ + +
+

+akessu +See āke. +

+ + +
+

+akautatte* +(adj.) +‘unsplittable’
+[m: -, -, akautacce//] +späntaitsñentaṣṣe enku wājrä akautacce ‘holding the unsplittable thunderbolt of trustworthiness’ (TEB-58-18). +∎Privative of kaut- ‘split,’ q.v. (see ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:22). +

+ + +
+

+akauwse +‘?’
+ekṣinekaṃñana misa akauwse /// (ST-a6). +

+ + +
+

+aknātsa +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘foolish, stupid’; (b) ‘fool’
+[aknātsa, -, aknātsai//aknātsañ, aknātsaṃts, aknātsaṃ] +(a) wnolmi [lege: wnolme] aknātsa ‘a foolish being’ (2a6), mā-yśeñcañ aknātsañ = BHS ajānakāḥ (31a6/7=32a1); +
+(b) aknātsaṃ = BHS bālāḥ (23b7), aiśmw akn[ā]tsa wat āṃtpi ksa ṣp mā=läṃ mäskentär ‘wise man or fool, the two are not different’ (28b3). + -- aknātsaññe ‘ignorance’: [ṣe]mi wnolmi tetrikoṣ ytariṃ ṣeṃ aknātsaññesa ‘some beings were confused [in their] ways out of ignorance’ (29b5), aknātsaññentse nautalñemeṃ = BHS mohakṣayād (H-149-ADD.124a2 [Thomas, 1974:90]); +
+aknātsaññeṣṣe ‘prtng to ignorance’: [aknātsaññe]ṣṣe orkamñe kauṣeñc[antse] = BHS ajñānatimira-ghnasya (H-149.47b2 [Couvreur, 1966:162]); +
+aknātsaññetstse ‘possessing ignorance’: aknā[tsaññetse kselñemeṃ] = BHS avidyanirodhāt [lege: avidyānirodhat] (157a2); +
+aknatsā-yāmor ‘± foolish deed, fool's deed’ (255a7). +∎TchA āknats ‘id.’ and B aknātsa reflect Ptch *āknātsā- where the first *ā- is a reflex of the negative prefix *e(n)- whose vowel has undergone ā-umlaut (see ²e(n)-). In PIE terms we may have *ṇ-ǵneh₃-to- ‘unknown, unknowing’ (with the common change in Tocharian of a *to-stem to a *tyo-stem) [: Sanskrit ájñāta- ‘unknown,’ Greek ágnōtos ‘id.,’ Latin ignōtus ‘id.,’ and Greek agnōs (gen. agnōtos) ‘unknown, unknowing,’ all derivatives of PIE *ǵneh₃- ‘know’ (P:376-378)] (VW, 1972a:103, 1976:159). Alternatively Hilmarsson (1991:124-125) suggests the possibility that we have here an inner-Tocharian development whereby the agentive suffix -tsa has been added to the PTch verbal root *knā- ‘know’ (cf. nān-). Those Indo-European forms in Hittite (ganess- ‘know’), Albanian (njoh ‘I know’), and Tocharian A (kña- ‘know’) that have been explained as reflecting *ǵneh₁- and thus necessitating a reconstruction *ǵnoh₁- for the previous set of forms, are probably to be explained as *ǵnēh₃- where the lengthened vowel is not colored by the adjacent vowel ("Eichner's Law"). +See also nān-. +

+ + +
+

+akrūna* +(n.pl.) +‘tears’
+[//-, akrūna] +/// akruna pest lyelyuwormeṃ ‘having wiped away tears’ (514a8). +∎TchA ākär ‘tear’ (plural ākrunt) and B akrūna reflect PTch *ākru, pl. ākrū-nā from PIE *h_aekru- [: Sanskrit áśru- (nt.), Avestan asrū, Lithuanian ašarà (f.) and, more distantly, Greek dákru (nt.), Old Latin dacruma (f.), Old Irish dér (nt.), Gothic tagr (nt.) (P:23, 179; MA:567)] (Schulze, 1927, VW:158, though they reject any connection with those forms that begin with *d-). The relationship of the forms with *d- and those without it is difficult (cf. Hamp, 1967). Within Tocharian one can point to a possible loss of initial PIE *d- also in or ‘wood’ (< *dóru), q.v. +

+ + +
+

+akraupatte +(adj.) +‘± unassembled, uncombined’
+[akraupatte, -, -//] +akraupatte = BHS asamāhitā (537a5). +∎Privative of kraup- ‘gather,’ q.v. (see ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:22-23). +

+ + +
+

+aklyilñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘study’
+[aklyilñe, aklyiñentse, aklyilñe//] +saṃvar ṣamāññe āśäṃ ostw-ostä tärknaṃ aklyilñe śak-wi klautkeṃtsa ‘monkish behavior leads him from house to house and he gives up the study of the twelve ways’ (33b2), aklyil[ñ]e[sa] = BHS āgamena (547b4). +∎The abstract noun from the subjunctive stem of ākl- ‘learn,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+akwane* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, akwaneṃ] +akwaneṃ käryāmte 30 k_uśāneṃtsa 550 ‘we bought 30 akwaneṃ for 550 k_uśānes’ (490a-III-2). +

+ + +
+

+akwam-pere +(n.) +‘sprout and stalk’
+[akwam-pere, -, -//] +akwam-pere ra ñe[m ersna] ‘name and form like sprout and stalk’ (PK-NS-53a6 [Pinault, 1988:100]). +∎Akwam is (as if) from PIE *h_aeḱú-mn- (nt.), a derivative of *h_aeḱu- ‘sharp.’ Particularly striking is the resemblance to Latin acūmen (nt.) ‘sharp point’ (as if) from PIE *h_aeḱu-h_a-men- (Pinault, 1988:146-147). More s.v. akwatse. +
+Pere is (as if) from PIE *poro- ‘± what is crossed,’ a derivative of *per- [: Sanskrit píparti ‘brings across,’ Greek peráō ‘bring through,’ peírō ‘bores through,’ Latin portō ‘carry,’ Gothic faran ‘travel,’ OCS naperjǫ ‘bore through,’ etc. (P:816-817: MA:228-229). One should compare formally Greek póros ‘passage, way’ and semantically Sanskrit páruṣ-/párvan- ‘joint, knot’ (especially of a cane or reed). Both semantic identification and etymology are Pinault's (1988:147-148). +See also prāri. +

+ + +
+

+akwatse +(adj.) +‘sharp’
+[m: akwatse, -, -//] [f: //akwatsana, -, -] +akwatsana ... läklenta ‘sharp pains’ (19a1), akwatse pilko olyapotse = BHS atīkṣṇacakṣuṣaḥ (545a1). +∎TchB akwatse reflects a putative PIE *h_aekutyo-, a derivative of the widespread *h_aek- ‘sharp’ [: particularly those derivatives with *-u- Latin acūs (f.) ‘needle,’ acuere ‘sharpen,’ German Achel (f.) ‘awn’ (< *h_aeku-leh_a-), Old English āwel (m.) ‘hook, fork’ (< *h_aeku-olo-, etc. (P:19; MA:509)]. Particularly close is the relationship with Latin acūtus ‘sharp’ (cf. VW, 1949:301, 1976:142). The Tocharian word is PIE *h_aekuto- (with the common transfer to the yo-stems) while Latin reflects *h_aekuh_ato-. Both are adjectives of appurtenance with *-to-. The pre-Tocharian adjective is derived from the simple u-stem while the pre-Latin adjective is derived from the corresponding abstract/collective *h_aeku-(e)h_a-. (For a similar formation in Tocharian, see orotstse.) +See also akwam- in the compound akwam-pere. +

+ + +
+

+akṣār* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘syllable’
+[-, -, akṣār//akṣāränta, -, akṣāränta ~ akṣaranma] +(548a3). +∎From BHS akṣara-. +See akṣarālaṃbaṃ*. +

+ + +
+

+akṣarālaṃbaṃ* +(n.) +‘± taking hold of the akṣara’
+[-, -, akṣarālaṃbaṃ//] +(183a2). +∎If from BHS *akṣar-ālaṃbaṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +See akṣār*. +

+ + +
+

+akṣai +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘undecaying’
+(156a4). +∎From BHS akṣaya-. +

+ + +
+

+akṣobhe +(adj.) +‘unagitated, unmoved’ (?)
+akṣobhe tretke memis ̇/// (367b6). +∎If from BHS akṣobha-. +

+ + +
+

+akṣnai +(adv.) +‘± transversely, wrongly, diagonally’
+(388b7). +∎If from BHS akṣṇayā. +

+ + +
+

+aksaṣṣuki +(n.) +‘instructor’
+[aksaṣṣuki, -,-//-, -, aksaṣṣukiṃ] +teṃ yiknesa weweñu mā tākaṃ wac[e] kaum [sic] aksaṣṣuki mā śilmaṃ-ne ‘[if] the instructor has not said in this manner, on the second day he will not guide him’ (331b3). +∎An agent noun to āks-¹ ‘instruct,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+agamadhare* +(nm.) +‘person of a particular theological position’
+[//agamadhari, -, -] +(H-149.X.5b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎From BHS āgamadhara-. +

+ + +
+

+agrakulike +(n.) +‘one from a very prominent family’
+[agrakulike, -, -//agrakuliki, -, -] +(602.2b5). +

+ + +
+

+agradharma +‘± foremost law’ (only in the compound agradharma-yoñyo* ‘way of the foremost law’)
+(554b6) +∎From BHS *agra-dharma- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+ankānmi* +(n.) +‘± commonality’ (?) [snai ankāmi ‘± unique’ (?)]
+[-, -, ankānmi//] +yolaiñemeṃ maukatai krent wäntrene späntaicu | späntai[tsñe]mpa śwaraikne späntai mästa nervānne | späntai wilyuśc akalkä snai ankānmi ṣäñ śaumo | späntaitsñentäts aṣāṃ po ci wi[nask]au späntaicu ‘thou hast left off from evil, O truster in the good affair! thou didst go trustingly to nirvana with fourfold trust; ... thine own person [is] unique (?); I honor thee, O trusting one, worthy of all trusts’ [?] (241a4-6). +‣In determining the meaning we must start from the bilingual context of the derived adjective. BHS sādhāraṇa- is ‘something in common, a common rule or one generally applicable, a general characteristic of all individuals of a species’ while vihanya- [pass.] is ‘be frustrated, exert oneself in vain’). It appears that this passage is contrasting the ability of an individual to achieve redemption with the inability of a group to do so. It may be that the same theme is inherent in 241a4-6, though our ignorance of the meaning of wilyuśc makes any understanding of this line most problematic. + -- ankāmnitstse* ‘± shared, common (i.e. having something in common), general’ po añmantse ekalymiññe säkwä [] ankāmniccene m/// = BHS sarvam ātmavaśaṃ sukhaṃ [] sādhāraṇe vihanyante ‘[their] good fortune [is] completely dependent on [their] own will[s]; they are frustrated/exert themselves in vain as a group’ [?] (TX-2a5 [Thomas, 1974:79/85]). +∎Etymology uncertain. It would appear that the word contains the intensive prefix ¹e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut). If the meaning of the word is as we have supposed the rest of the word might reflect a putative PIE *kōmniyom, a vṛddhied derivative of the *kom-no- seen in Oscan comono ‘comitia,’ and Umbrian super kumne ‘super comitio,’ kumnahkle ‘in conventu.’ PIE *kom-no- (the metathesis of *-mn- to -nm- in TchB is regular), of course, is an adjectival derivative of the adposition *kom ‘with.’ Not with VW (147) a derivative of kām-, a part of the suppletive paradigm of pär- ‘bear, carry,’ q.v. Though some instances pär-/kām- translate BHS dhṛ-, neither the prefix of the Tocharian word nor its suffix is productive in attested Tocharian. Thus ankānmi is unlikely to be any kind of calque on some Buddhist Hybrid Sanskrit original. +

+ + +
+

+ankāre +(n.) +‘± profligacy, immorality’ (?)
+[ankāre, -, -//] +/// ypauna k_uṣaintsa kaklautkau ankāre wnolme[ntsa] ‘in lands and villages [has] profligacy [been] brought by beings’ (2b6). +∎Meaning and hence etymology are uncertain. If the meaning is something like ‘immorality,’ then VW's suggestion (1972[74]:142-3, 1976:147) of a compound consisting of the intensive prefix e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + kāre which would be connected with Gothic hōrs ‘prostitute’ and its Germanic congeners and, more distantly, with Latin cārus ‘dear’ is attractive. +

+ + +
+

+ankaiṃ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘false; reverse’ [ankaiṃ yām- ‘vomit’]
+eroṣ pilko ankaiṃ ṣeyeṃ ‘they have evoked false insight’ (15a5=17a6), ankaiṃ ytārasa [lege: ytārisa] ‘by a false path’ (30a7), weṃts weṣṣiye ankaiṃ y[āmor] śuwaṃ prete[nne] ‘urine, excrement, vomit they eat among the pretas’ (522a3). + -- ankaiṃ-pilko* ‘false thought, false doctrine’: [ankaiṃ]-p[i]lkontse enkälyñemeṃ = BHS mithyādṛṣṭisamādānāt (H-150. 114a3 [Thomas, 1969:301]); +
+ankaiṃ-pilkoṣṣe ‘prtng to false thought’ (282a3). +∎TchA keṃ ‘id.’ and B ankaiṃ reflect a PTch *(ān)kāin. TchB shows a form with the intensive prefix *e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut--see ¹e(n)-) and A shows a form without. Further connections are unknown. VW (213) implausibly suggests a connection with PIE *k^wei(n)- ‘punish’ with the notion ‘false’ being a development of ‘culpable.’ Hilmarsson (1991:121) more cogently from the semantic point of view suggests a relationship with Old Irish gáu ~ gáo ~ gó ‘lie,’ Middle Welsh geu ‘false; lie’ (modern Welsh gau), and Breton gaou ‘id.’ The Celtic words apparently reflect a Proto-Celtic *gāwā; the Tocharian might for Hilmarsson reflect *gāwāīn-. +

+ + +
+

+anklautkatte +(adj.) +‘unturning, irreversible, unchangeable’
+[anklautkatte, -, anklautkacce//] +tsmoytär-ñ nete pälskoṣṣe anklautka[t]te ‘may the spiritual and unchangeable power grow for me’ (S-8b2). +∎The privative of klautk- ‘change,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:23). +

+ + +
+

+ankwaṣ(ṭ) +(n.) +‘asa fetida’ (Ferula foetida Regel [aka F. asafoetida]) (a medical ingredient)
+[ankwaṣ(ṭ), -, -//] +ankwaṣṭä (P-2b5), aṃkwaṣ = BHS hingu- (Y-1a5). +∎Cf. Khotanese aṃgūṣḍa- (Filliozat). From Proto-Iranian *angu-ǰatu- (where *ǰatu- is ‘gum’) (Bailey, 19769:1). +

+ + +
+

+ang +See ānk. +

+ + +
+

+acakarm +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+[acakarm, -, -//] +tumpa [tasema]n[e] su acakarm ṣe/// (576b1). +

+ + +
+

+acalasuttär +(n.) +‘acalasutra’ (a kind of salve)
+[acalasuttär, -, -//] +(W-19b4). +

+ + +
+

+acār* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘propriety, rule’
+[-, -, acār//acāränta, -, -] +spārtalñent=ācāränta muskauw=āttsaik ‘[good] behaviors and conducts [have] completely disappeared’ (12b2), acār sparkoṣ yaknesa ṣekka-ṣekka sankantse antarāy maṣṣäṃ ‘in a manner having lost [all] decency, always and always he pains the community’ (DAM-507-a6/7 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). + -- acāräṣṣe* ‘prtng to propriety’ (549b2). +∎From BHS ācāra-. +

+ + +
+

+acirne +(n.) +‘absence of digestion’
+[acirne, -, -//] +(Y-1b4). +∎From BHS ajīrṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+ajamot +(n.) +a kind of parsley (Apium graveolens Linn.) or common caraway (Carum carvi Linn.) (a medical ingredient)
+[ajamot, -, -//] +(497b6, W-33a3) +∎From BHS ajamodā-. +

+ + +
+

+Ajātaśatru* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Ajātaśatru’ (PN of a king of Magadha)
+[-, Ajātaśatruñ, Ajātaśatruṃ//] +(K-3a6). +

+ + +
+

+Ajite +(n.) +‘Ajita’ (PN of heretical teacher)
+[Ajite, -, -//] +(28b1). +

+ + +
+

+ajvare +(adj.) +‘without a fever’
+[m: ajvare, -, -//] +(509b3). +∎From BHS *a-jvara- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+añityātṣe +See anityāt. +

+ + +
+

+añiye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘breath’
+///ets wseṣṣe añiye tarkärm[pa] tasem[ane] ‘the poisonous breath of the .... like a cloud’ (H-149.71a6 [Hilmarsson, 1996:30]). A derivative of PIE *h_aen(h₁)- ‘breath.’ +See further s.v. anāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+añcāṃ +(n.) +‘black pigment or collyrium’
+[añcāṃ, -, añcāṃ//] +(408b5, P-2a4). + -- añcānäṣṣe ‘prtng to añjana’: añcānäṣṣe ṣale [ramt] [= BHS añjanāgiri-, the name of a mountain] (356a3). +∎From BHS añjana-. +

+ + +
+

+añcāl ~ añcāli +only attested in the compound añcal(i)-ṣarne ‘with hands in the añjali-position’
+añcali-ṣarne (128b7), ñakty=āñcāl-ṣarne keṃ ññi rämnoyeṃ ‘the gods, [their] hands in the añjali, bowed to the ground to me’ (246a2/3). +∎From BHS añjali-. +

+ + +
+

+añmaññ- +(vt.) +‘wish, desire, hope for’ [in all clear cases followed by an infinitive]
+Ps. XII /āñmäññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP añmaññemar, -, añmantär// -, -, añmaññentär; MPImpf. -, añmaññītar, añmaññītär//] +/// [ā]l[y]auce waiptār nessi añmañenträ /// ‘they wish to be separate from one another’ (193b8), /// piṃtwāt aitsi añmaññīta[r] /// ‘thou desiredst to give alms’ (374.c), añmaññitär = BHS kānkṣati (PK-NS-12b4 [Couvreur, 1967:154]). +∎A denominative verb from ¹āñme ‘wish,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+añmalāṣṣälñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sympathy’
+[añmalāṣṣälñe, -, añmalāṣṣälñe//] +āñmalāṣṣälñe ecce e[nkormeṃ] = BHS anukampām upādāya = TchA käryā lotklune ṣu eṃtsuräṣ (PK-NS-13+516a4 [Couvreur, 1967:154]). + -- añmālaṣlñeṣṣe ‘prtng to sympathy, sympathetic’ (TEB-59-26). +∎The regular abstract derived from añmālaṣle. +

+ + +
+

+añmālaṣle +(n.) +‘± sympathy, pity’
+[añmālaṣle, -, añmālaṣle//] +wase yoktsi yaskasträ cmelaṣṣe añmālaṣle ertsi yesäñ aikne ste (282a2). + -- añmalaṣleṣṣe ‘prtng to sympathy’ (281b5). +∎A derivative of ²āñme ‘self’ but the exact formation is unique. +See also añmalāṣṣälñe. +

+ + +
+

+añmassu +See āñme¹. +

+ + +
+

+añmālaṣke +(adj.) +‘pitying, sympathetic’
+[añmālaṣke, -, añmālaṣkeṃ (voc. añmālaṣka)//] +pontäts saimo kärtse-ritai añmālaṣka ‘refuge of all, seeker of good, pitying [one]!’ (229b3/4), ce_u ṣäp yene saim pyamttsait añmalāṣkai [lege: -eṃ] käṣṣintse akṣoṣ krentä [p]elaikne ‘take [as] your refuge the good law announced by the pitying teacher’ (295a9/10). + -- añmalaṣkaññe ‘± pity, sympathy’: ket no cämpämñe seṃ takoy alyekepi somotkäñe añmalaṣkäñ=onolmennai [lege: -nne] ‘to whom, however, there might be this ability, to another likewise [there would be] pity for beings’ (224a1/2). +∎An adjectival derivative of ²āñme ‘self’ but, as with añmālaṣlñe, the formation is unique. +

+ + +
+

+at +(adverb) +‘± away’
+toṃ läklentameṃ ṣañ añm skāyau kr_ui tsälpastsi [[]] at no ceṃ yāmu k_use ñī yāmṣare /// ‘if from these sufferings I try to free myself, though [I have] sent them away, they do me ...’ (220b2). +∎The apocopated form of ate, q.v, in the same way we have omp ~ ompe ‘there’ or ket ~ kete ‘whose.’ +See also ate. +

+ + +
+

+Atakke +(n.) +‘Atakke’ (PN in caravan pass)
+[Atakke, -, -//] +(LP-4a3). +

+ + +
+

+atameṃ +‘?’
+/// [wawayau]cai mā kallaṃ tā_u ytarimeṃ parna lantsi atameṃ mā campäṃ (330a3), tentsa olyapotse ṣarttaṣ[ṣ]iññe yāmtsi atameṃ mā rittetär (331b5). +‣Are these misspellings for añmameṃ? +

+ + +
+

+atākatte +(adj.) +‘untrue, unfounded’
+[m: atākatte, -, atākacce//] +krentäṃtsa tattaṃ nāki atākatte neṣamye ‘they will lay reproach on the good and untrue rumor’ (15a5=17a6/7), [a]tākatte = BHS abhūta (16a4). +∎Privative of tāk- ‘be,’ s.v. nes- (see also ²e(n)- and cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:36-39). +

+ + +
+

+atāne +See āto. +

+ + +
+

+atāmo +(n.) +‘± unfruitful ground’
+[atāmo, -, -//] +t[untse] ṣa[rmtsa] atāmo taur tweye mäsketrä pākri ‘for this reason unfruitful ground, or dust, or dirt appears’ (K-8b2). +∎The negative prefix ²e(n)- + tāmo, a nominal derivative of täm- ‘be born,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+atit +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘± past, done on’
+(183a3). +∎From BHS atīta-. +

+ + +
+

+Atidivākare +(n.) +‘Atidivākara’ (PN)
+[Atidivākare, -, -//] +(357b5). +

+ + +
+

+atibala +(n.) +‘Sida rhombifolia Linn.’ [aka S. rombhoidea Roxb.] (a medical ingredient)
+[atibala, -, -//] +(W-24b3). +∎From BHS atibalā-. +

+ + +
+

+atiyo * +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘grass’ [usually in plural but may be used in the singular as a collective]
+[-, -, atiyai//atiyañ, atiyaṃts, atiyaṃ] +ckentse manarkaisa nyagrot-stām ñor atiyaisa lyama ‘on the bank of the river he sat on the grass under a nigrodha-tree’ (107b5), atiyai pisäl melte oraṣṣe puwar ‘a fire of grass, chaff, dung or wood’ (194b1), atīy ̇/// = BHS tṛṇa- (530b3). +∎TchA āti ‘id.’ and B atiyo reflect PTch *ātiyā- but further connections, if any, are uncertain. Lane (1938:25) connected this word with Latin ador ‘spelt’ and Gothic atisk ‘grainfield.’ Watkins (1973b) connects all three words with Hittite hat- (< PIE *h₂ed-) ‘to dry, parch’ (ador originally being ‘dried spelt’) and Greek ázomai ‘dry out’ (so too Puhvel, 1991:248; cf. P:3, MA:237). Pedersen (1941:64), on the other hand, followed by VW (624), takes PTch *ātiyā- as a borrowing from Turkish ot ‘grass’ but neither the initial vowel nor the stem form of the Tocharian word is clarified by such a hypothesis. Čop (apud Isebaert, 1978a:97) more reasonably suggests a connection with the otherwise isolated Old Irish áith ‘sharp, energetic’ (< *āti- or *ōti-). The semantic development would be similar to that seen in Sanskrit tṛṇa- ‘grass’ (= English thorn). Beside the adjectival āt-i- seen in Old Irish I assume there was a nominal *āt-u- which, when augmented by *-i̯ā(n)-, gave PTch *ātäi̯ā-). +

+ + +
+

+atiṣṭhit +See adhiṣṭhit. +

+ + +
+

+ate +(adverb) +‘± away’ [ate ra tsa i- ‘to go any which way’]
+āppa ate yāmtsi päkn[a]star-ñ ‘dear father, dost thou intend to send me away?’ (83a5), kelästa läkle pratinmeṃ waskātai ma at=ate śaiṣṣe tsälpastsī läklentameṃ ‘thou hast suffered pain [but] from [thy] decision to redeem the world from sufferings thou hast not moved away’ (224b2/3), ce_u prekar ate kampāl yamaṣṣasta ‘they asked him: didst thou set the cloak aside?’ (337a5=PK-NS-18A-b2 [Thomas, 1978:239]), eśane epinkte pärwāne wat no lupṣale ate ra tsa yaṃ mā lkāte ksa ‘[it is] to be smeared between the eyes or on the brows; no matter how he might go, he was not seen by anyone’ (M-3b5). +∎TchA atas ‘id.’ and B ate are related but the details are not clear. By itself ate could reflect PTch āte with the attested initial a- resulting from its being always unstressed. That *āté would reflect either a PIE *h_aetō (as in Lithuanian ato- ‘back, away’) or *h_aetos (as in Sanskrit ataḥ ‘from there’). One should compare also OCS otъ ‘away,’ Greek atár ‘however,’ Latin at- ‘id.’ (< pre-Latin *ati), Gothic aþ-þan ‘id.,’ OCS ot-, otь ‘away, out’ (P:70-71; MA:37). A atas may be from PTch *āté plus some further enclitic -s with the initial ā- shortened in this consistently atonic word (a similar shortening may account for atsek vs. ātsek, see s.v. attsaik). The connection with Sanskrit ataḥ was first made by VW, 1941:8 (see also VW, 1976:152). +See also at. +

+ + +
+

+atkwal +‘?’
+ankain placsa sewīträ atkwal ṣpä (282a4). +

+ + +
+

+attai +See ate. +

+ + +
+

+Atyuccagāmī +(n.) +‘Atyuccagāmin’ (PN of a former buddha)
+[Atyuccagāmī, -, -//] +(AMB-a1). +

+ + +
+

+atraikatte +(adj.) +‘unfailing, not misleading’
+[atraikatte, -, -//] +∎A privative of the causative of trik-, q.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:56-58). +

+ + +
+

+attsaik +(adv.) +‘completely, only’ [in general a strengthening particle]
+śaul attsaik totka śāmnaṃts ñke wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä atyaṃts a[k]entasa ‘the life of men is now very short [like] a water drop on the tips of grasses’ (3b3/4), walo aknātsa su märsau ṣañ āñm atsaik ñem Araṇemi ‘the king [is] a fool; he [has] forgotten indeed his own name, Araṇemi’ (81a2/3), entsesa attsaik eśne wawālaṣ ‘through greed [are their] eyes completely covered’ (K-6a2). +∎TchA āttsek and B attsaik reflect PTch *āttsai-k where the final -k is the strengthening particle and the ātts- is somehow related to A ats and B ats but further connections are unknown (Smith, 1910:8, Duchesne- Guillemin, 1941:175, VW:153). +See also ats. +

+ + +
+

+adhivacanasaṃsparś +(n.) +‘± conjunction of epithets’
+[adhivacanasaṃsparś, -, -//] +(171a1). +∎From BHS *adhivacanasaṃsparśa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+adhiṣṭhit (also atiṣṭhit) +in the phrasal verb adhiṣṭhit yām- ‘take control of, exercise (magical) control over’
+dhutaguṇ[ä] no pañäkti käṣṣīnta adhiṣṭhit mā yamaskenträ ‘the buddha-teachers do not exert control over the dhutaguṇas’ (560a1/2). +∎From BHS adhiṣṭhita-. +

+ + +
+

+anagāmäññe +See anāgāme. +

+ + +
+

+anantārś* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘sin whose penalty is death’
+[//-, -, anantārśänta] +(22b3). +∎From BHSānantarya- by way of Khotanese (Sieg, 1949:89)? +

+ + +
+

+anantaryavimuktimārg +(n.) +‘± way of immediate deliverance’
+[anantaryavimuktimārg, -, -//] +(591a4). +∎From BHS *anantarya-vimukti-marga- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+anabhiprāy* +(n.) +‘± lack of intention’
+[-, -, anabhiprāy//] +(331a2). +∎From BHS *an-abhiprāya- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +See abhiprāy. +

+ + +
+

+anahār +(n.) +‘fast’
+[anahār, -, -//] +(M-1b5). +∎From BHS anāhāra-. +See also āhār and poṣat. +

+ + +
+

+anākätte +(adj.) +‘blameless, irreproachable’
+[m: anākätte, -, -//] +anākätte = BHS aninditaḥ (U-18a2). +∎Privative to nāk- ‘blame, reproach,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:95-96). +

+ + +
+

+anāgat +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘non-attainment’
+[anāgat, -, anāgat//] +(182a3). +∎From BHS anāgati-. +

+ + +
+

+anāgāme +(n.) +‘one destined to return no more to this world’
+[anāgāme, -, -//] +(333b3). + -- anāgāmäññe ‘prtng to an anāgāmin’ (591a1). +∎From BHS anāgāmin-. +

+ + +
+

+Anāthapiṇḍike +(n.) +‘Anāthapiṇḍika’ (PN of a merchant in whose garden the Buddha instructed his disciples).
+[Anāthapiṇḍike, Anāthapiṇḍikentse, -//] +(380b5). +

+ + +
+

+anāntapa +‘?’
+/// orṣṣe ñi iñcwo ra anāntapa - wi (520b6). +

+ + +
+

+anāpatti +(n.) +‘unpunishableness, no offence’
+[anāpatti, -, -//] +ṣamāne ytāri mā aiśtär klyiye ytāri ṣärpṣūkiññesa yaṃ-ne anāpatti ‘[if] a monk does not know the road and a woman, as a guide, goes [with] him, [there is] no offense’ (330a2). +∎From BHS anāpatti-. +

+ + +
+

+anāyätte +(adj.) +‘ungiven’
+[anāyätte, -, -//] +anāyätte kakāmarsa = BHS adattādānena (H-149-ADD.8a4 [Thomas, 1969:302, fn. 66]). +∎Privative of ai- ‘give,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:84). +

+ + +
+

+anās +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘miserable’
+Samantatir sankrām ... anās erkatte ṣe-ñ ‘my monastery S. was miserable and detestable’ (DAM-507-a/23 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). + -- anāsäññe ‘miserable’ (220b1). +∎Like TchA ānās ‘id.’ B anās must be a borrowing from some Prakrit reflex of Sanskrit anātha- ‘without protector, without help’ (VW:623, following Konow). +

+ + +
+

+anāsk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘breathe; inhale’; K ‘make breathe, resuscitate’
+G Ps. IXa /ānāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, anāṣṣäṃ//; Ger. anāṣṣälle]; Ko. IXa (= Ps.); +
+K Ps. IXb /ānäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A //ānäskem, -, -; MP //ānäskemtär, -, -] +trīwäṣlñe k_uce satāṣṣäṃ tu anāṣlñe enkastär [] anāṣṣäṃ wat satāṣlñe keś yamastär ^. astarñe ṣiś [lege: piś] anāṣṣäṃ piś tu ṣaṃṣträ ([]) satāṣṣäṃ wat piś lykwarwa tuk piś ṣaṃṣtär ... ent=ānāṣṣäṃ melentsa ‘a mixture [is]: what he exhales, that he takes as inhalation; or he inhales and he counts [it as] exhalation; purity [is]: five [times] he inhales and he counts it [as] five or five times he exhales and he counts it [as] five ... whenever he inhales through the nose’ (41b1-3), anāṣṣälle-satāṣṣälleṣṣe ime = BHS prāṇāpānasmṛti (H-149.289a5 [Thomas, 1972b:443, fn. 5]]); satāstsy anāst[s]i (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1972b:ibid.]); ///ne nta pāskem [m]añyeṃ ānäskem wraṃ ta /// (574a4), /// otak tane lālyi ānäskemträ /// (574a5). +‣The Grundverb is attested only in contexts where it is opposed to satāsk- ‘exhale.’ In those contexts the meaning of anāsk- must be ‘inhale.’ However the causative would seem to be attested in the sense ‘make breathe, resuscitate’ (the context is that of a sea voyage and the resuscitation of servants after a near-drowning). Thus it seems likely that the basic meaning of the verb is ‘breathe’ toute simple and only by contrast to satāsk- is the meaning specifically ‘inhale.’ + -- anāṣṣälñe ‘breathing, inhalation’ (41a1). +∎There is no doubt that anāsk- is a reflex of PIE *h_aen(h₁)- ‘breathe’ [forms for which *h_aenh₁- are necessary or probable: Sanskrit ániti ‘breathes,’ ánila- ‘breath, wind,’ Greek ánemos ‘breath, wind,’ Latin animus ‘spirit, soul,’ anima ‘breath, soul, life,’ Old Irish aná ‘breath’ (<*h_aenh₁tlo-), Gothic uzanan ‘exhale;’ forms for which *h_aen- are necessary: Latin hālāre ‘exhale’ (< denominative *h_aens-l-eh_a- with unetymological h-), Hesychian ántai ‘ánemoi,’ and antás ‘pnoiás’ (if these are not to be corrected to aētai and aētás); indeterminate forms: Avestan åntya- ‘inhalation’ and paråntya- ‘exhalation’ (with prefixes ā- and pra-), Old Norse ǫnd (f.) ‘breath, life, soul’ (= Greek ántai), OCS vonja ‘smell’ (< *anyā-), Albanian ëj ‘swell’ (P:38-39; MA:82)] (Couvreur, 1949:33, VW:144). VW and Hilmarsson (1986a:198), under the assumption that a vocalic laryngeal always gave PTch *ā, assume we have *h_aenh₁-sḱe/o-. Alternatively Hilmarsson later suggests (1991:120) that we might have something like *h₁on-h_aen(h₁)-sḱe/o- where the initial ān- reflects the prepositional prefix ‘in.’ The causative ānäsk- must be a new formation within TchB. +See also āñme¹, āñme², añiye, onolme, and possibly satāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+anāsrap +(n.) +‘freedom from sinful influences’
+[anāsrap, -, -//] +(171a5). +∎From BHS anāsrava-. +

+ + +
+

+anityāt +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘impermanence’
+[anityāt, -, -//] +(182b2). + -- anityātṣṣe ‘prtng to impermanence’ (G-Su1). +∎From BHS anityatā-. +See also anityä. +

+ + +
+

+anityä +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘transient’
+(161a4). +∎From BHS anitya-. +See also anityāt. +

+ + +
+

+anindri +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘without senses’
+(193a9). +∎From BHS anindriya-. +

+ + +
+

+Aniruddhe +(n.) +‘Aniruddha’ (PN of a monk).
+[Aniruddhe, -, -//] +(AMB-a1, 58b3). +

+ + +
+

+anupasaṃpanne +(adj.) +‘unordained’
+[m: anupasaṃpanne, -, -//] +(329a2). +∎From BHS anupasaṃpanna-. +

+ + +
+

+anubhāp +(n.) +‘perception, apprehension’
+[anubhāp, -, -//] +(197b1). +∎From BHS anubhava-. +

+ + +
+

+anumodit +only in the phrasal verb anumodit yām- ‘give approbation to’
+or[ot]stse-cämpamñecci ñakti anumod[i]t yamaṣṣare-me ‘the great-powered gods gave them approbation’ (PK-AS16.3a5 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎From BHS anumodita-, the participle of anumud-. +

+ + +
+

+Anurat* +(n.) +‘Anurādhā’ (the constellation ‘Scorpio’)
+[-, -, Anurat//] +(M-2a3). +∎From BHS anurādhā-. +

+ + +
+

+anulakṣaṃ* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± subsidiary characteristic’ (?).
+[//anulakṣan(än)ta, -, -] +(182b5). +∎From BHS *anu-lakṣaṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +See also lakṣāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+anuwasāṃ +(n.) +‘washing, bath’
+[anuwasāṃ, -, -//] +anuwasāṃ yamaṣle yente kauṣeñca ‘a bath [is] to be made, destroying wind [diseases]’ (Y-2b1). +∎From BHS anuvāsana-. +

+ + +
+

+anaikätte +(adj.) +‘unknown’
+[m: anaikätte, -, anaikätte//] [f: -, -, anaikättai//] +(12a6). +∎Privative of aik- ‘know,’ q.v. (though note the unexpected accusative singular anaikätte rather than *anaikäcce). +See also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:98-105. +

+ + +
+

+anaiwatstse +(adj.) +‘± unpleasant, unwanted, irksome’
+[anaiwatstse, -, anaiwacce//anaiwacci, -, anaiwacceṃ] +kos tne ñakta pelaikni [po] śaiṣṣents=ānaiwacci ‘how [is it] O Lord, [that there are] laws unwished for by all peoples?’ (5a5/6), taka rano anaiwatse srukalñeṣṣe ime onolmets ‘certainly the thought of death is unpleasant to creatures’ (K-11a5). + -- anaiwatsñe ‘± unpleasantness, something unwanted’ (117b1). +∎TchA ānewāts ‘id.’ and B anaiwatste reflect PTch *ānāiwātstse composed of the negative prefix *e(n)- (its vowel *ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + *-āiwā- the subjunctive and preterite stem of *āiw- ‘turn towards’ + the adjective forming *-tstse. The same formation is seen in ayātaitste, q.v. +See also ²e(n)- and cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:125-128 somewhat different treatment. More s.v. aiw-. +

+ + +
+

+anaiśai +(adv.) +‘carefully, attentively; clearly’ [anaiśai kärs- ‘recognize, comprehend’; anaiśai wawlāwau ‘one who has concentrated his thoughts in devotion, steadfast’]
+a[nai]śai ra papāṣwa srūka[l]ñ=[āke] pontaṃts ‘however carefully guarded [are life and body], death [is] the end of all’ (3a3), klautsn=naiśai pepīltso śau[l]mpa mā spänteträ ‘prick up [your] ears attentively; do not trust in life!’ (3b4/5), anaiśai wawlāwau = BHS susamāhitaḥ (31a4), anaiśai kärsa[nalle] = BHS parijñeyaṃ (527a5), mā anaiśai /// = BHS ananubodhāt (542b6), k_uce te mant wñāwa tu nke weñau anaiśai ‘what I have so said, that I will speak clearly’ (K-2a5/6). +‣If correctly restored, aneyśai at 213b3 is an extremely aberrant spelling. Perhaps it is a miswriting for anaiyśai. +∎The intensive prefix ¹e(n)- (the ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + aiśai, a verbal noun from aik- ‘know,’ q.v. Cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:120. +

+ + +
+

+anautatte* +(adj.) +‘± imperishable’
+[-, -, anautacce//] +weñim ñäś anautacc=aiśamñesa mā āroy wentsi ‘I would speak: because of [his] imperishable wisdom may he not cease from speaking!’ (291a2). +∎Privative of naut- ‘disappear,’ q.v. +See also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:32-35. +

+ + +
+

+antapi +(pronoun/adj.) +‘both’
+[antapi ~ āntpi, -, antapi ~ āntpi] +lyam=Ānande kenisa [a]lyinesa antapi | pudñäktentse kektseño klawāta-ne ‘Ā. sat on [his] knees and with both palms touched the Buddha's body’ (5b4/5), aiśmw akn[ā]tsa wat āṃtpi ksa ṣp mā=läṃ mäskentär ‘wise [man] and fool, the two are not distinguishable’ (28b3), antapi = BHS ubhayatra (U-15b3), /// [o]rotse-pacere nesteñy [lege: nesteṃñy] antpī ktsaitsī eś-lmoṣä ‘my grandfathers are both old and blind’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [K. T. Schmidt, 1987:288]). +∎TchA āmpi (m.?) ‘id.’ (feminine [?] āmpuk) and B antapi ~ āntpi reflect PTch *āntäp(ä)i which must, in some fashion, be related to the widespread Indo-European group meaning ‘both’ [: Greek ámphō, Latin ambō ~ -ae ~ -ō, and without the nasal, Sanskrit ubhau, Avestan uwā, Lithuanian abù, OCS oba, and, without the first syllable, Gothic bai (m.) ~ ba (f.), all ‘both’ (P:34-35)] (Meillet, 1911:147, 150, VW:162). Jasanoff (1976) has shown that of the Greek, Latin, and Tocharian forms, TchB antapi is notably archaic and requires a PIE *h₂ent-bho-, with *h₂ent- as in Hittite hant- ‘face,’ hanz(a) (< *h₂enti) ‘in front,’ Greek antí ‘against,’ Latin ante ‘in front of,’ etc. (P:48-49; MA:400). The AB ending -i reflects the old neuter dual *-oih₁, while in the TchA -uk (whether feminine or, as Winter, 1991:148, has argued, pronominal as opposed to an adjectival āmpi) we probably have the old masculine *-ōu (plus the strengthening particle k(ä)), relegated to the feminine by the original neuter. See Hilmarsson, 1989a:56-58, for further discussion and slightly different conclusions. See also Winter, 1991:147-150. +

+ + +
+

+antarakalp +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘internal subdivision of an eon, intermediate eon’
+[antarakalp, -, -//antarakalpanma, -, -] +(590a1). +∎From BHS antarakalpa-. +

+ + +
+

+antariye +(adj.) +‘± under or lower (of garments)’
+[m: antariye, -, -//] +[anta]riye wastsi yäṣä[lle] ‘underclothing [is] to be worn’ (320b4). +∎If from BHS antarīya-. +

+ + +
+

+antartiṣ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘invisible’
+kete āñme tākaṃ antartiṣ nessi ‘to whomever is the wish to be invisible’ (M-3b4). +∎From BHS antardhiṣ ‘concealment, disappearance.’ +

+ + +
+

+antāpce +(n.) +‘± firebrand’
+[antāpce, -, -//] +pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt enkältsa ‘his whole body blazed with passion like a firebrand’ (8a5). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps with VW (1941:5, 1976:145) we have the intensive prefix e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + tāpce where tāp- reflects PIE *tōp- from *tep- ‘be hot’ [: Sanskrit tápati ‘is warm, burns,’ Avestan tāpaiti ‘is warm,’ Albanian ftoh ‘cool off’ (<*h₄eps-top-eh₁-sḱe/o-), Latin tepeō ‘am warm,’ and possibly Hittite (or Luvian since this word sometimes occurs with the Glossenkeil) tapassa- ‘fever, heat’ (note that this word is not spelled *tappassa- as we would expect by Sturtevant's Law is a derivative of PIE *tep-), etc. (P:1069-1070)]. Perhaps instead we have a loanword from some Middle Iranian source, *(h)antāp-, as suggested by Hansen (1940:145). +

+ + +
+

+antarābhav* +(n.) +‘intermediate state of existence (between death and rebirth)’
+[antarābhav, -, antarābhav//] +(175a1). + -- antarābhaväṣṣe* ‘prtng to such a state’ (179b2). +∎From BHS antarābhava-. +

+ + +
+

+antarāy +(n.) +‘embarrassment, obstacle’, only in the phrasal verb antarāy yām- ‘embarrass, put up an obstacle.’
+acār sparkoṣ [sic] yaknesa ṣekka ṣekka sankantse antarāy maṣṣäṃ ‘in that way having lost all decency he is always and for ever putting an obstacle in the way of the monastery’ (DAM-507-a6/7 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎A calque on Pali verb underlying the attested nomen agentis, antarāya-kara- (Pinault, 1984a:27). +

+ + +
+

+antiṣpūr +(n.) +‘harem’
+[antiṣpūr, -, -//] +(AMB-a4). + -- antiṣpuräṣṣe* ‘prtng to a harem’ (109a6). +∎From BHS antaḥpura-. It is noteworthy that the Tocharian form shows a Sanskrit antecedent with ‘close’ sandhi (with retroflex -ṣ-) rather than visarga as in the standard Sanskrit form. +

+ + +
+

+Andhave +(n.) +‘Andhava’ (PN of a forest)
+[Andhave, -, -//] +(H-149.X.4a3 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +

+ + +
+

+apamārga +(n.) +‘Achyranthes aspera Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[apamārga, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS apāmārga-. +

+ + +
+

+aparimāṃ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘immeasurable’
+(154b1). +∎From BHS aparimāṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+apaśabdh* +(n.) +‘bad or vulgar speech’ (?)
+[-, -, apaśabdh//] +(134b6). +∎If From BHS apaśabda-. +

+ + +
+

+apākärtse +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘manifest, apparent’ [apākärtse yām- ‘reveal, make manifest’; apākärtse länt- ‘reveal onself, leave openly’]
+ytārye sā ... apākärtse yāmusa ‘the way made evident’ [apākärtse yāmusa = BHS prakāśitaḥ] (30a3/4), [a]pākärtse ltuṣañ yapo[ymeṃ] ‘having left openly from his own kingdom’ (94b6). +∎The intensive prefix ¹e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + pākr- ‘evident’ + the adjective forming -tstse (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:121-123). +See also pākri and apākśai. +

+ + +
+

+apākśai +(adv.) +‘± with genitals exposed’
+mā apākśai ene[nka] /// = BHS na viḍangikayātargṛhe niṣatsyāma (H-149- ADD.131a5 [Couvreur, 1954b:51]). +‣The BHS equivalent of this TchB hapax legomenon is almost as rare. The Tibetan, Japanese, and, in part, the Chinese equivalents of BHS viḍangika- mean ‘showing the private parts’ while, in part, the Chinese evidence, perhaps euphemistically, suggests ‘bending over’ as the meaning. Etymological considerations within Tocharian show the Tocharian translator to have understood the BHS word as ‘showing the private parts, exposing oneself’ as the meaning. +∎From the intensive prefix ¹e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + -pāk- ‘± obvious, evident’ (cf. pākri) + -śai, the frozen accusative singular of some sort of derivative suffix (in PIE terms *-Kyeh_a-). +See also pākri and apākärtse. +

+ + +
+

+apāy* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘lower being’
+[//apāynta, -, apāynta] +(52b4). +∎From BHS apāya-. +

+ + +
+

+apāṣṣätte +(n.) +‘one who has not behaved morally’
+[apāṣṣätte, -, apāṣṣäcce//] +(31b2=32a4). +∎The privative of pāsk- ‘guard,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:110). +

+ + +
+

+Apiś* +(n.) +‘the Avīcī-hell’
+[-, -, apiś//] +Devadatte sū Apiś nraine temtsate ‘this D. was re-born in the avīcī-hell’ (22b3). + -- apiśäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the avīcī-hell’ (TEB-64-04). +∎From BHS avīcī-. +

+ + +
+

+appakke +(n.) +‘(dear) father’
+[appakke, -, - (voc. appakka)//] +śaula-preñcai sauśka [lege: soṃśke] se wate appakke snai tränko ñake päst rinastä[r]c[i] t^..ṣp^./// (83a4). +∎A diminutive of āppo ‘father,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+appamāt +only in the phrasal verb appamāt yām- ‘treat badly, wrong’
+appamāt yamaskentär = BHS avajānanti (31a6=32a1), ceṃ ksa yāmtär appamāt wrocce lupṣtär nraisa ‘[if] someone does this one wrong, he casts himself into hell’ (31b1=32a4). + -- appamātäññe ‘± ill-treatment’ (246b1, 371b4). +∎Like its TchA cognate, appärmāt, B appamāt is a borrowing from BHS pramata- or some Prakrit equivalent. +See also appamatiśśa. +

+ + +
+

+appamatiśśa +(adj.) +‘scornful, disdainful; dispicable’ (?)
+/// [se or]otse - - ̇i no appamatiśśa (575b2). +∎A derivative of appamāt. For the formation, see Winter, 1979. +

+ + +
+

+apratitulyeṃ* +(n.) +name of a meter (4 X 25 syllables, rhythm 5/5/6/7)
+[-, -, apratitulyeṃ//] +(379b1, 380a4). +

+ + +
+

+apratisaṃkhyānirot* +(n.) +‘the unobserved annihilation of an object’
+[-, -, apratisaṃkhyānirot//] +(189b3). +∎From BHS apratisaṃkhyānirodha-. +

+ + +
+

+apramaṇi* +(n.) +‘infinitude, high number’ (?)
+[//-, -, apramaṇinta] +(575a6). +∎If from BHS apramāṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+aplāc +(adv.) +‘in conversation’
+ṣamyeṃ mākaṣamāni aplāc ‘many monks were sitting in conversation’ (3a5). +∎The prepositional/intensive prefix ¹e(n)- ‘in’ + the accusative singular of plāce ‘conversation,’ q.v. (Hilmarsson, 1991:123). +

+ + +
+

+apsāl +(n.) +‘sword’
+[apsāl, -, apsāl//] +apsāltsa yāmu pīle ketseṃne ‘a wound having been made in the body with a sword’ (15b1=17b3). +∎Etymology uncertain. By its form apsāl would appear to be an old verbal abstract (cf. TchA śwāl ‘food’). VW (148) relates this Tocharian word to Avestan afša-, afšman- ‘damage.’ Apsāl might be as if from PIE *h_aeps-eh_a-, a denominative verb derived from the *h_aeps-o- that lies behind Avestan afša-. If so, we would expect the original meaning to have been ‘± damage’ and the shift to *‘damager,’ whence ‘sword’ is difficult. +

+ + +
+

+abraji* +(n.) +‘particle of water’ [as a unit of measurement] (?)
+[//abrajinta, -, -] +(326b3). +∎Cf. BHS abrajas-. +

+ + +
+

+abhijñä* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘(higher) knowledge’
+[-, -, abhijñä//-, -, abhijñänta] +(31a3). +∎From BHS abhijñā- +

+ + +
+

+abhidārm* +(n.) +‘Buddhist metaphysics’
+[-, -, abhidhārm//] +(G-Su2). +∎From BHS abhidarma-. +

+ + +
+

+abhidharmike +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘one learnèd in the abhidhārma’
+[abhidharmike, -, -//] +(H-149.X.5b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎From BHS *ābhidhārmika- (not in M-W or Edgerton), a derivative of abhidhārma-. +See s.v. abhidharm. +

+ + +
+

+abhinai +only in the phrasal verb abhinai yām- ‘represent dramatically’
+/// olyapotstse nessi täṅwaṃñe abhinai yāmt[s]i /// ‘to be very ... to represent love dramatically’ (516b3). +∎From BHS abhinaya-. +

+ + +
+

+abhiprāy +(nnt.) +‘intention’
+[abhiprāy, -, abhiprāy//abhiprāy(ä)nta, -, -] +(325b3). +∎From BHS abhiprāya-. +See also anabhiprāy. +

+ + +
+

+abhīṣek* +(n.) +‘ritual bathing or consecration (by pouring water over the head)’
+[-, -, abhiṣek//] +(205a5). + -- abhiṣekṣe* ‘prtng to ritual bathing’ (211b2) +∎From BHS abhiṣeka-. +

+ + +
+

+abhyantarakālp* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘intermediate age’
+[-, -, abhyantarakālp//] +(525a5). +∎From BHS abhyantarakalpa-. +

+ + +
+

+abhyākhyāṃ +(n.) +‘false or groundless accusation, calumny’
+[abhyākhyāṃ, -, -//] +(330a1). +∎From BHS abhyākhyāna-. +

+ + +
+

+amarṣ* +(n.) +‘impatience, indignation, anger’
+[-, -, amarṣ//] +[a]marṣsa Jaṃbudvipṣeṃ lantäṃts po krempär warkṣäl ‘they hinder out of anger the energy of all the kings of India’ (PK-13E-b8 [Couvreur, 1954c:87/88]). + -- amarṣäṣṣe ‘prtng to impatience, anger’ (PK-17.4a5 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]). +∎From BHS amarṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+amalāk(ā) +(n.) +‘Emblica officinalis Gaertn.’ [aka Phyllanthus emblica Linn.] (a medical ingredient)
+[amalāk, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS āmalaka-. +

+ + +
+

+amāṃ +(n.) +‘pride, arrogance’
+[amāṃ, -, amāṃ//] +lauke tattārmeṃ laṃ ntuñeṃ yetweṃ amāṃ śāmpa ‘having set afar the trappings of kingship, pride and arrogance’ (100b6). + -- amānäṣṣe ‘± prtng to pride’ (518b7). +∎Like TchA āmāṃ ‘id.,’ B amāṃ translates BHS māna- ‘id.’ However, it may reflect an Iranian borrowing, from a form like that seen in Sogdian ’’m’n ‘energy, force’ reflecting Proto-Iranian *ā-māna-. +

+ + +
+

+amāc +(nm.) +‘minister’
+[amāc, amācäntse, amācäṃ//amācänta, -, amācänta] +klyauṣa sū śaumo mas= āmāciṃśco po tw akṣā-ne amāc masa lānte tw ākṣa aurtsesa ‘this person heard [it] and went to the minister and instructed [him in] it all, and the minister went to the king and instructed [him in] it publicly’ (18a1), [pä]knāträ lāṃnt amācänta watä ekalmi yāmntsi ‘[if] he intends to make subject the king or [his] ministers’ (M-1b5). + -- amāciññe ‘prtng to a minister, ministerial’ (425a1). +∎Like TchA āmāc ‘id.,’ B amāc is a borrowing from Khotanese āmāca- ‘id.,’ itself a borrowing from Prakrit amacca- (BHS amātya-) ‘id.’ (Bailey, 1941:598, VW:623). +

+ + +
+

+amāntatte +(adj.) +‘not evil-minded’ or ‘not scattered, concentrated’ (?)
+[m: amāntatte, -, -//] +ket palskw astare amāntatte taka[rṣ]k[e] /// ‘whose spirit [is] pure, not evil-minded, and believing’ (H-149-ADD.63/59b5 [Thomas, 1972b:454, fn. 9]). +∎A privative of mänt- ‘be evil-minded’ (also ‘scatter’), q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:29-31). +

+ + +
+

+amārraṣṣe +(adj.) +‘immortal, undying’ or an adjective referring to some plant (?)
+[m: amārraṣṣe, -, -//] [f: amārraṣṣa, -, -//] +[wa]rpalñe amārraṣṣe yel ra ‘suffering [is] like an immortal worm’ (152b5), sā amārraṣṣa ṣpakiye (W-9b3). +∎If a derivative of BHS amara- ‘immortal’ and/or amara-/ amarā-, the name of several plants. +

+ + +
+

+amāllatte +(adj.) +‘not depressed, not cast down’
+[amāllate, -, -//] +(255b3). +∎The privative of mäl-¹ ‘crush, repress, oppress,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:28-29). +

+ + +
+

+amāsko* +(a) (n.); (b) (adv.); (c) ([indeclinable] adj.) +(a) ‘difficulty’; (b) amāskai ‘with difficulty’; (c) ‘difficult’
+[-, -, amāskai//] +pos=amāskai karkats[i] = BHS sudurharam ‘very difficult to steal’ (14b8), tusa amāskai lwāsameṃ onolmeṃ tsä yśamna cmetsi ‘thus [it is] difficult for animals to be born of beings among men’ (407b2/3). + -- amāskaitstse* ‘± difficult’ (384b2). +∎The intensive prefix ¹e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + māsk- ‘difficulty’ (Hilmarsson, 1991: 119-120). +See More s.v. māskw. +

+ + +
+

+amäkṣpänte* +(n.) +‘± wagon-master’
+[(voc. amäkṣpänta)//] +amäkṣpänta karpām lantäññai ytārine ‘O wagon-master, we have descended on the royal way’ (PK-12K-b3 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]). +∎Etymology uncertain. Bailey (1958; followed by VW:621) sees in this word a compound, perhaps itself of Iranian origin, certainly of Iranian origin in its components. The first part of the compound amäkṣ- is in the first instance equated with Khotanese maś- in maśpa- ‘road’ (< *‘± wagon-place’) and further to Greek ámaksa (Attic hámaksa) ‘chassis of a four-wheeled wagon’ while the second part of the compound is Iranian *pati- ‘master.’ However, it may well be that TchB amäkṣ- and Greek are cognate because they are both inherited from PIE *h₂em-h_aeks-y(e)h_a- ‘wagon-chassis,’ whether or not Khotanese maś- (if such a form has an independent existence) belongs here or not. Likewise I do not see -pänte as borrowed from Iranian *pati-. Such an etymology leaves the -n- without any explanation. Instead I see -pänte as a putative PIE *pṇth₂-ó- ‘one pertaining to the way,’ an exocentric thematic derivative to *póntōh₂s ‘way’ [: Sanskrit pánthāḥ (m.), Avestan pantå (m.), Armenian hun, all ‘way,’ Greek póntos (m.) ‘sea,’ OCS pǫtь (m.) ‘way,’ Old Prussian pintis ‘id.,’ etc. (P:308-309)] (cf. Adams, 1984b; MA:625). +

+ + +
+

+amiśke +(adj.) +‘bad-tempered, despondent’
+[m: amiśke, -, -//-, -, amiśkaṃ] +[wnolme]ntso ra ponts [lege: pontaṃts] aiṣi [sic] amiśkana [lege: amiśkane?] eśne no (92b1), am[i]śk=[e]ntsesse ‘bad-tempered and greedy’ (117a3). + -- amiśkäññe ‘bad disposition, despondency’: amiśkäññe = BHS daurmanasya (156a5). +∎Probably with VW (1941:80, 1976:143-144, though details differ) an adjective with the diminutive suffix -śke added to a form *ām(i)-, related to Sanskrit ámīvā- ‘sickness, suffering,’ ámīti ‘torments, presses,’ Greek anīā (Aeolic onīā) ‘grief, sorrow, distress, trouble’ (< *amīwā- with dissimilation of *m ... w to *n ... w), Old Norse ama ‘torment, wound,’ all reflecting a PIE *h_aem(h_x)-, distinct from Greek ómnūmi ‘swear’ (cf. P:778; MA:413). +

+ + +
+

+amok* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘art, artifice’
+[-, -, amok//-, -, amokänta] +k_us=āmoksa trikoṣ cai po śaiṣṣe mā ṣäṃṣy[e]nträ ‘whoever [have] gone astray because of [your] artifice count for nought the whole world’ (24a5), ce [lege: k_uce] amokänta Dharmacandre yātka paikatsi ‘since Dh. has commanded the arts to be written’ (605b1). + -- amokäṣṣe ‘± prtng to art’ (429b5); +
+amokätstse* ‘artisan’ (434a3, TEB-74-3). +∎AB amok reflect borrowing(s) from some Middle Iranian source, cf. Parthian ‘mwg, Middle Persian hmwg ‘doctrine’ (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:12, fn. 1, VW:621). +

+ + +
+

+amaukatte* +(adj.) +‘undrainable, unceasing’
+[-, -, amaukacce//] +(231a3). +∎The privative of mauk- ‘drain away,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:31-32). +

+ + +
+

+ampar +See āmpär². +

+ + +
+

+amparwa +See āmpär¹. +

+ + +
+

+ampalakkesar +(n.) +a kind of tree
+[ampalakkesar, -, -//] +(115a1) +∎From BHS ambāṭakakesara- (identification by Sieg, Siegling, and Thomas [1953:115]; not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+ampoño +(n.) +‘rottenness, infection’
+[ampoño, ampoñantse, ampoñai//] +ampoñaṃtse sāṃtke ‘the remedy for infection’ (P-1a1). +∎A nomen actionis from āmp- ‘rot,’ q.v., from Khotanese hambu-, i.e. hambu- + the Khotanese abstract-forming suffix -oña. +

+ + +
+

+ampraṣṭo +(n.) +‘Oxalis monadelpha’ (a medical ingredient)
+[ampraṣṭo, -, -//] +(W-24a4). +∎From BHS amlaṣṭa-. +

+ + +
+

+amprätapātär +(n.) +‘leaf of Tinospora cordifolia (Willd.) Miers’ (a medical ingredient)
+[amprätapātär, -, //] +(W passim). +∎From BHS amṛtapattra-. +

+ + +
+

+Amprätodane* +(n.) +‘Amṛtodana’ (PN of an uncle of the Buddha)
+[-, -, Amprätodaneṃ//] +(517a5). +

+ + +
+

+Amprätaśarme +(n.) +‘Amṛtaśarma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Amprätaśarme, -, -//] +(G-Su2). +

+ + +
+

+Amprätasene +(n.) +‘Amṛtasena’ (PN in graffito)
+[Amprätasene, -, -//] +(G-Su12). +See also Amrätasene. +

+ + +
+

+amplākätte +(adv.) +‘uninvited, without permission’
+se ṣāmāne [sic] kätkoṣ preke amplākätte kwaṣaine yinmaṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk enters into a village at an inconvenient time or uninvited’ (H-149.X.3b2 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), Dhanika ñem ṣamāne Ajāśatruñ lānte amplākätte or kamāte ‘a monk, Dhanika [by] name, took king A.'s wood without permission’ (H-149-ADD.8a2F [Thomas, 1957:124]). +∎A privative of plāk- ‘please,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:88-94). +

+ + +
+

+Ambare* +(n.) +‘Ambara’ (PN of a king)
+[-, Ambari, -//] +(AMB-a4). +

+ + +
+

+ammakki* +(nf.) +‘mother’
+[(voc. ammaki)//] +weṣṣän-neścä ṣarya ammakki poññ āppai mā ñiś cempaṃts rak ṣatsents aiṣṣäṃ ‘[the boy] speaks to her: dear mother, speak to father; don't let him give me to these rakṣas’ (85a2). +∎This word is likely to be in onomatopoetic in origin though we can point to potential Indo-European cognates in Old Norse amma ‘grandmother’ or Greek ammás ~ ammía ‘nurse, mother’ (MA:386). Certainly not a borrowing from Gilyak (so VW:621). +

+ + +
+

+Amrätarakṣite +(n.) +‘Amṛtarakṣita’ (PN in graffito)
+[Amrätarakṣite, -, -//] +(G-Su34.1). +

+ + +
+

+Amrätasene +(n.) +‘Amṛtasena’ (PN in graffito)
+[Amrätasene, -, -//] +(G-Su19). +See also Amprätasene. +

+ + +
+

+Ayardhyāme +(n.) +‘Ayardhyāme’ (PN of Uyghur origin)
+[Ayardhyāme, -, -//] +(289b2). +

+ + +
+

+ayāto +(a) ([indeclinable] adj.); (b) (n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘suitable, pleasant; possible’; (b) ‘benefit’
+(a) sankantse ayāto nesaññe ste ‘the situation of the monastery is fitting’ (DAM-507-a4 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), mäkte omteṃ tañ maiyyane sankantse spelke kuśalapākṣ ayāto tākaṃ yāmtsi ‘as here, in thy power, the zeal and fitting behavior of the community can come to be’ (TEB-74-7), [in Manichean script] ’’y’tv (Gabain/Winter:14); +
+(b) ce_u wäntre poyśi lyelykormeṃ weña tarya ślokanma ṣamāññents=ayātoś ‘having seen such a thing, the Buddha spoke three ślokas for the benefit of monasticism’ (31a4). +∎The intensive prefix ¹e(n)- (the initial ā- is regular by ā-umlaut) + yāto, a derivative of yāt- ‘be able’, q.v. TchA āyāto ‘id.’ is presumably a borrowing from B (Winter, 1961:273, 276). +See also yāt- and ayātaitstse*. +

+ + +
+

+ayātaitstse * +(adj.) +‘untamable’
+[-, -, ayātaicce//-, -, ayātaicceṃ] +(213a3, S-7a2). +∎A negative adjective (but not a privative) derived from yāt- ‘be able, tame,’ q.v. The formation is the same as in anaiwatstse, q.v. Hilmarsson (1991:58-61) does take this word to be a privative ayātatte*. +See also yāt- and ayāto. +

+ + +
+

+ayāmätte* +(adj.) +‘non faciendus’
+[m: -, -, ayāmäcce//ayāmäcci, -, -] +(522b7, K-12a4). +∎Privative of yām- ‘do, make,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:94). +

+ + +
+

+ayāw +a medical ingredient?
+ayāwä (P-1b6). +

+ + +
+

+arañce +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘heart’ (both the physical heart and the seat of the emotions)
+[arañce, arañcäntse, arañc//aräñci, -, arañcäṃ] +läkleñ arañce nittaṃ ‘because of suffering [his] heart is breaking’ (88b4/5), aräñci särpar ka śāmāne ‘the living hearts beat’ (119a4), katkomñaisa arañce pluṣā-ne ‘his heart soared with joy’ (375b4), araṃśne = BHS hṛdaya- (Y-1a6). + -- arañcaṣṣe ‘prtng to the heart’ (207a3); +
+aräñcatstse* ‘± great-hearted’ (241a2). +∎TchA āriñc ‘id.’ and B arañce reflect PTch *āräñce. The *-äñce is the same suffix seen in akañc (A ākiñc) ‘pertaining to the end’ beside āke (A āk) ‘end’ and in a few other cases (cf. A ṣuliñc beside ṣul ‘mountain’ and probably B salañce ‘salt-encrusted ground’ [?] beside salyiye ‘salt’). The proper comparandum of the underlying *ār-(e) is Hittite hah(a)ri-, the designation of some part of the body. Puhvel translates it as ‘± lung(s), midriff.’ In one occurrence we have, after ‘breast,’ ‘heart,’ and ‘entrails,’ hah(a)ris-set-a hah(a)risni dākki ‘and his h. matches the h.’ In other contexts it occurs following ‘entrails’ or between ‘breast’ and ‘entrails.’ It would appear to be a paired, internal body part perhaps ‘kidney’ or ‘lung.’ Both Hittite and Tocharian reflect a PIE *h₂eh₂(e)ri- (MA:329). Stalmaszczyk and Witzcak (1990:36-39) suggest that arañce is connected with Old Irish áru (f.) (gen. árann) ‘kidney, gland,’ Welsh arenn (f.) (pl. eirin) ‘kidney, testicle.’ They reconstruct for Tocharian and Celtic a PIE *adren- ‘internal organ.’ For Celtic they are following an early suggestion of Stokes who assumed a morphological division *ad-ren- and connected the Celtic words with Latin rien ~ rēn (pl. rēnēs]) ‘kidney’ (Stalmaszczyk and Witzcak do not include the Latin in their etymon). However, a PIE *āren- would also be possible for the Celtic data and such a form might also be a derivative of a PIE *h₂eh₂(e)r-i-. The Latin rēnēs might reflect an unreduplicated *h₂r-én-. Not with VW (167) who takes the underlying noun to be a reflex of PIE *h_aer- ‘fit together, fix’ (P:55-61) in its secondary meaning of ‘be fond of, love’ (cf. Greek aréskō ‘like,’ [Hesychian] ártus ‘love,’ TchB ārtt- ‘love’) with the heart then being ‘the seat of love.’ Nor with Pisani (1942-1943) who connects the Tocharian words to Greek ētor (nt.) ‘heart’ and ētron ‘lower belly’ [: also Old Norse ǟdr (f.) ‘vein,’ Old English ǟdre] (f.) ‘vein’ (plural ‘kidneys’), OHG ād(a)ra ‘vein, sinew’ (plural ‘guts’) (P:344)], since we would expect PTch *āträñce. +

+ + +
+

+Araṇemi +See Aranemi. +

+ + +
+

+araṇyāyataṃ* +(n.) +‘hermitage’
+[-, -, araṇyāyataṃ//-, araṇyāyatannaṃts, -] +(561a2). +∎From BHS araṇ-yāyatana-. +

+ + +
+

+Aranemi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Araṇemi’ (PN of a king)
+[Aranemi, Aranemiñ, Aranemiṃ//] +(81a2). +

+ + +
+

+arahānte +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘arhat, the ideal personage of Hinayana Buddhism’
+[arahānte, -, arahānteṃ//arahānti, -, -] +arahaṃnte ñi[ś nese_u] arahaṃnteñe perneś wat speltkessu ‘I am an arhat or am zealous for the rank of an arhat’ (333b2/3). + -- arahanteññe ‘prtng to an arhat’ (369a6). +∎From BHS ar(a)hant-. +See also arhānte and the semantically equivalent aṣanīke. +

+ + +
+

+arāññe +(n.) +‘an ascetic dwelling in the forest’
+[arāññe, -, -//] +samp arāññe ste cwim nau ṣpete ‘this one is an āraṇyaka; give [it] to him first’ (H-149.X.5b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎From Pali āraññaka-. +

+ + +
+

+arāḍe* ~ arāḷe* +(n.) +the name of a meter (4 X 12 syllables, rhythm 5/7)
+[//-, -, arāḍeṃ ~ arāḷeṃ] +(K-2a4, PK-AS16.3b1 [Pinault, 1989]). +

+ + +
+

+arirāk +(n.) +‘Terminalia chebula Retz.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[arirāk, -, -//-, -, arirākäṃ] +(Y-2a1). + -- arirākäṣṣe* ‘prtng to arirāk’ (W- 2a3). +∎From BHS harītaki-. +

+ + +
+

+aruci +(n.) +‘lack of appetite’
+aruci = BHS aruci- (Y-3b3/4). +∎From BHS aruci-. +

+ + +
+

+aruṇariju +(n.) +‘Asteracantha longifolia Nees.’ [aka Hygrophila spinosa T. And.] (?) (a medical ingredient)
+[aruṇariju, -, -//] +(W-8a6). +∎If from BHS aruṇarju-. +

+ + +
+

+Aruṇāvati* +(n.) +‘Aruṇāvati’ (PN of a city)
+[-, -, Aruṇāvati//] +(90a4). + -- aruṇāvatiṣṣe* ‘prtng to A.’ (89b4). +

+ + +
+

+aretsa +‘?’
+/// ce_u kenaṣṣe aretsa /// (526b2). +

+ + +
+

+arai +(interjection) +‘O’ [introduces vocatives], ‘Oh’
+/// w[e]ṣṣäṃ arai | tu kka ka ñi śaul pern[e] st[e] waike w^./// (78b1), arai srukalyñe cisa nta kca mā prāskau ... s=ārai ñi palsko cisa prāskau ‘O death, I fear nothing more than thee! ...’ (298a1), arai näkte [lege: mäkte] ñäke täne yanäṣälle [lege: yamäṣälle] ‘Oh, how [is it] to be done here?’ (PK-12D-a6 [Thomas, 1979:13]). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+ark* +See erk¹. +

+ + +
+

+arkiye +(adj.) +‘± necessary, obligatory’ (?)
+[m: arkiye, -, -//] +/// śik ṣapātäntse ṣpä arkiye putkalñe nesalle ṣai ‘the necessary [?] separation of the Ś. was to be ’ (176b2), /// arkye pelai[kn]e /// (373.d). +∎If an adjectival derivative of ārk- ‘be obliged to,’ q.v. +See also ark_uye. +

+ + +
+

+ark_uye +(n.) +‘± necessity’ (?)
+[ark_uye, -, -//] +mā cpī taurä mā tweye kektseñäśc ma wat [t]swetär nt[a] | wässanma ṣpä ark_uye [as read by Lévi, 1933; Sieg, 1938, reads artkye] mäskentär-ne - - - - - [kälpauca] ṣpä mäsketär po-yknesa krenta wässanma ‘never does dust or ash cling to [his] body; to him clothes are an ark_uye ... and he is an obtainer, by every method, of good clothes’ (K-10a3/4). +∎If Lévi's reading is correct, then this word might be a substantival use of arkiye. This etymon would represent a virtual PIE *h₂erk-u-h₁en-. +

+ + +
+

+arkwañña +See ārkwi. +

+ + +
+

+arkwaññaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘± white’
+[f: arkwaññaṣṣa, -, -//] +arkwañaṣṣa tāno puwarne hom yamaṣäle (M-1b5). +∎An adjectival derivative from the feminine form of ārkwi ‘white,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+arkwiññe +(n.) +‘± whiteness’
+[arkwiññe, -, -//] +arkwiññe krośśaññe = BHS śvetatvaśītatva- (Y-3a4). +∎A nominal derivative of ārkwi ‘white,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+arjuṃ +(n.) +‘Terminalia arjuna W. & A.,’ only in the compound arjuṃ-stām.
+(107b4). +∎From BHS arjuna-. +

+ + +
+

+Arjune +(n.) +‘Arjuna’ (PN in graffito)
+[Arjune, -, -//] +(G-Su7). +

+ + +
+

+Arṇyārtate +(n.) +‘Arṇyārtate’ (PN in monastic document)
+[Arṇyārtate, -, -//] +(DAM.507-a10). +

+ + +
+

+artalle +See ārtt-. +

+ + +
+

+artkye +See ark_uye. +

+ + +
+

+arth +See ārth. +

+ + +
+

+Arthadarśi +(n.) +‘Arthadarśin’ (PN of a former buddha)
+[Arthadarśi, -, -//] +(74b3). +

+ + +
+

+armokiññe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the Armoki (River)’
+[armokiññe, -, -//] +armokiññe cake ‘the Armoki River’ (Otani 19.1.3 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+Aryakoṣe +(n.) +‘Āryakoṣa’ (PN)
+[Āryakoṣa, -, -//] +(Otani 19.1.1 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+aryamarkṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the way of the honorable ones’
+[f: -, -, aryamarkṣai//] +(554a1). +∎An adjectival derivative of an unattested *aryamark from BHS āryamārga-. +

+ + +
+

+aryamaitreye* +(n.) +‘± honorable maitreya’ (?)
+[//-, -, aryamaitryeṃ] +(552b3). +∎If from BHS *arya-maitreya- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Aryārak(ṣ)īte +(n.) +‘Āryarakṣita’ (PN in graffito)
+[Aryārak(ṣ)īte, -, -//] +(G-Su29, Otani 19.1.1 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+arwāre +(adj.) +‘ready’ (of horses, ‘saddled’)
+[m: arwāre, -, -//-, -, arwāreṃ] +laute ka kalloy sāw weṣyetsai kotaiśc om katoytr arwāre | śuwoy ‘she only wanted the opportunity to find a sewer, then she might spread her self ready and eat’ (42b5), a[r]wāreṃ krentäṃ yakweṃmpa ‘with good, saddled horses’ (409b1). +See s.v. ārwer. +

+ + +
+

+arśakärśa +(n.) +‘bat’
+[arśakärśa, -, -//] +arśakärśa = BHS maṇḍilya [in the calendrical cycle] (549a6). +∎Etymology uncertain. Not with VW (150) do we have a compound of ārśä-, related to Thracian árgilos ‘mouse’ (ultimately a reflex of PIE *h₂erǵ- ‘be brilliant’ [P:64]), and a nomen agentis from kärk- ‘steal,’ q.v., thus ‘mouse-stealer’ or the like. A bat is not a bird of prey and the semantics seem very unlikely. Perhaps *h₂erǵi- ‘swift’ (as in *h₂ṛǵi-ptyo- ‘swift-flying’ [: Sanskrit ṛjipyá- ‘swift-flying,’ Arm arcwi ‘eagle’ (MA:469)]) plus *(s)kreg-, otherwise seen in OHG hewi-screcko ‘grasshopper,’ screcken ‘make leap.’ The Tocharian word then would have been ‘swift-leaper’ or the like. +

+ + +
+

+arśe +See ārśe. +

+ + +
+

+arṣāklo +(nf.) +‘(poisonous) snake’
+[arṣāklo, arṣaklāntse, arṣāklai//-, arṣāklaṃts, arṣāklaṃ] +matre-ws= arṣāk]l[o] ‘a snake with sharp poison’ (43a6), [arṣā]klo auk catä tsākaṃ ‘[if] a snake, adder, or viper bites’ (503a2). + -- arṣāklatstse* ‘± snake- infested’: arṣāklacce ālmene ‘in the snake-infested spring’ (152b2). +∎Etymology unknown. TchA ārṣal ‘id.’ is obviously related in some fashion to B arṣāklo but the details are obscure. The difference between A -l- and B -kl- might possibly be the different hearings of a non-Tocharian (Iranian?) cluster *-xl- but no obvious Iranian source exists (Martin Schwartz, p.c.). VW (623) suggests an Indic or Iranian source related to Sanskrit īrṣyati ‘envies,’ Avestan arəšyant- ‘jealous’ but neither form nor semantics is particularly close. Pedersen (apud VW, 1974:225) suggests an inheritance from PIE *ers- ‘move’ and compares Armenian eṙal ‘bulicare di vermi’ and zeṙun ‘rettile, serpente.’ A PIE *h_xōrsyeh_a- might then do for the first part of the Tocharian words but the -l and -klo would still remain without any explanation. +

+ + +
+

+arhānte +(n.) +‘arhat, the ideal personage of Hinayana Buddhism’
+[arhānte, -, -//arhānti, arhānteṃts, arhānteṃ] +tumeṃ ... maimañceṃ appamāt sū yamastär eṃṣk=ārhānteṃ wrocceṃ ‘thus he treats badly the just, even the great arhats’ (31b2). + -- arhanteññe ‘prtng to an arhat’ (35a7); +
+arhanteṣṣe ‘id.’(349a3). +∎From BHS ar(a)hant-. +See also arahānte and the semantically equivalent aṣanīke. +

+ + +
+

+artsa +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘each’ [with measures of time]
+cai cets sañi tsmentär artsa [k]auṃ ‘these enemies of theirs increase each day’ (31b8), snai ṣaṃṣl auntsate lwāsa kautsi su artsa kauṃ ‘each day he began to slay animals without number’ (44a3), artsa ywarca-meñ ‘each half-month’ (H-149.X.5a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎TchA ārts and B artsa reflect PIE *ārtsä. VW (169) may well be right in seeing in it some oblique case of a nominal derivative of PIE *h_aer- ‘fit together, fix’ (P:55-61), namely *h_aerti- [: Greek árti ‘just, exactly; just now’ or Lithuanian artì ‘near’] or *h_aertiyos [: Greek ártios ‘complete, perfect, exactly suited’]. However, the divergent meaning in Tocharian should give one pause. Whether the word is further to be related to TchA ārśo ‘today’ is also problematic. +

+ + +
+

+alanmeṃ +‘from wherever, from whomever’
+kälpauca śwātsi yoktsi alanmeṃ ‘an obtainer of food and drink from wherever’ (31a2), k_use no sū tākaṃ apāṣtte kallaṃ śwātsi alanmeṃ ‘whoever is not behaving morally, [if] he obtains food from wherever’ (31b2=32a4). +∎The ablative of āläṃ ‘different,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+alālätte +(adj.) +‘indefatigable’
+[alālätte, -, alāläcce (voc. alāläccu)//alāläcci, -, -] +(203b2). +∎The privative of lāl- ‘be tired,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:86-88). +

+ + +
+

+alāṣmo +(adj.) +‘sick’
+[m: alāṣmo, alāṣmontse, ālaṣmoṃ//-, alāṣmonts, -] +śaiṣṣ=ālāṣmo laukäññeṣai snaiy santkīnaṃnt täryāka ṣūkt sāṃ tkentampa traiywatai twe ‘the sick world was far gone and without doctors; thou didst mix the thirty-seven remedies’ (212b2/3), al[āṣmontse] = BHS āturasya (H-149.236 [Thomas, 1974:83]). +∎A verbal adjective from alāsk- ‘be sick,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+alāsäññe +(n.) +‘idleness, sloth, want of energy’
+[alāsäññe, -, alāsäññe//] +/// alāsñe swārästrä ostmeṃ ltu ṣek ‘the one who has left the house [i.e. become a monk] continually finds pleasure in indolence’ (12b5), alāsäṃññe = BHS ālasya (Y-3b3). +∎Like its TchA equivalent ālāsune, B alāsäññe reflects an abstract derived from an unattested adjective *ālas, itself a borrowing from BHS ālasa-. +

+ + +
+

+alāse +‘?’
+(G-Qa5) +

+ + +
+

+alāsk- +(vi.) +‘be sick’
+Ps. IXa /āläsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, alāṣṣäṃ//; MPPart. alāskemane]; Ko. IXa (= Ps.): see gerund. +/// [a]lāṣṣäṃ alyaik kekmoṣ ñyātsene ‘...is sick; others [have] come into danger’ (31b8=32b2), sark alāskemane ‘± being sick [in] the back’ [= BHS -pṛstha- in a list of ailments] (Y-2a4). + -- alaṣṣälle ‘± sickness’: tsärkalñetse alāṣṣälletse ṣpä sātke ‘the remedy for torture or sickness’ (P-1b1). +∎Couvreur (1950:126) suggested an etymological relationship with Sanskrit alasá- ~ ālasa- ‘inactive, lazy, tired’ (cf. B alāsäññe) and thus with Lithuanian alsà (f.) ‘tiredness,’ ilsti ‘become tired’ and possibly Sanskrit iláyati ‘stands still, become quiet’ (cf. Mayrhofer, 1956:55 and 92). VW (620) sees it rather as a borrowing from Sanskrit alasa-, adapted to fit the pattern shown by anāsk- ‘breathe, inhale,’ satāsk- ‘exhale,’ and wināsk- ‘honor, worship.’ Finally K. T. Schmidt (1982:367-368) would derive alāsk- from a putative PIE *h₃elh₁-sḱe/o- related to Greek óllūmi ‘destroy’ (aorist ólesai). In none of these cases is the formal or semantic equation exceptionally strong. We might rather connect alāsk- with Hittite allaniya- ‘get (over)heated, get hot’ (a ye/o-denominative verb from a quasi-participial h₄elh_a-ono- is suggested by Melchert, p.c.), Old Irish allas (nt.) (gen. allais) ‘sweat’ (< *h₄el(h₁)es-). The Hittite-Celtic equation is suggested by Berman and Hamp (1982). They further adduce Greek aléā ‘warmth, body heat’ and Latin ad-oleō ‘burn (as a sacrifice)’ but these latter two present formal and semantic difficulties. (For a slightly different reconstruction, see Puhvel, 1984:28-29). The pre-Tocharian antecedent might be an athematic *h₄elh_a-sḱe/o-. The original meaning might have been ‘± get overheated, get hot.’ A semantic change first to *‘be feverish’ and ultimately ‘be sick’ can explain the Tocharian word fairly neatly. +See also alāṣmo. +

+ + +
+

+alek +See allek. +

+ + +
+

+alepāṃṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a salve’
+[m.//-, -, alepāṃṣṣeṃ] +alepāṃṣṣeṃ añcāṃṣṣeṃ rai[t]we[nta] rittau mäsketär ‘he had arranged the salve means and the unguent means’ (A-1a6/7). +∎An adjectival derivative of an unattested *alepāṃ from BHS ālepana- ‘salve’. +

+ + +
+

+aletstse* +(adj.) +‘foreign, unrelated’
+[m: -, aleccepi, alecce//alecci, -, alecceṃ] [f: -, -, aletstsai//] +śaul ka oräñ-c tā kektseño pw alecci cai tākañ-co ‘scarcely will thy life renounce this body; all these will be foreign to thee’ (46a8=47b7), ṣäññeṃ alecceṃ ‘relatives and non-relatives’ (123b6), [a]laits[ai] = BHS ajñātyaḥ [the restoration is very uncertain] (315a3), k_use ṣamāne aletstsai aśīyantse yākwa lāṃssi aiṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk gives wool to an unrelated nun to work’ (PK-NS-18A-a1 [Thomas, 1978:238]). + -- alletsñe ‘± unrelatedness, foreignness’ (327a4) [[>]One should note the geminate -ll- as occasionally with aletstse itself, on the model of allek ‘other’]. +∎As if from PIE *h_aelo-tyo- ‘± having otherness.’ More s.v. allek. +See also allek, āläṃ, and alokälymi. +

+ + +
+

+alaitatte* +(adj.) +‘not fallen’
+[//alaitacci, -, -,] +alaitacci krentaunameṃ ‘[who] have not fallen away from virtues’ (Paris 1205b1 [Couvreur, 1954c:82]). +∎The privative of lit- ‘fall away,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:28). +

+ + +
+

+alokälymi +([indeclinable] adj.) (adv.) +‘directed in a single direction; extraordinary’
+omp mäskītr=ālo[kälymi] /// ‘there he found himself directed toward a single goal’ (12a3), mäntrākka alokälymi cäñcare [täñ] = BHS evam ekānta-kāntaṃn [sic] te (251a1). +∎Related to allek ‘other,’ q.v. Do we have a virtual *alām (fem. acc. sg.) + *ḱlimenṃ (with loss of the *-n- in the latter regularly in the accusative of nouns not denoting rational beings)? +See also allek, aletstse, and ālyauce. +

+ + +
+

+alme +See ālme. +

+ + +
+

+alyiyatstse +(adj.) +‘± having otherness’
+[m: alyiyatstse, -, -//] +alyiyatse nesälñe waimene säk källātsi ‘[it is] difficult [to achieve] otherness [and] good fortune’ (127b4). +∎An adjectival derivative in -tstse of *āliyā- ‘± otherness,’ (as if) from PIE *h_aelyeh_a-, related to allek ‘other,’ q.v. +See also allek, aletstse, alokälymi, and ālyauce. +

+ + +
+

+alyiye* +(n.) +‘palm of the hand’
+[-, -, ālyi/alīne, -, alīne/-, -, aliṃ] +śuwoy katkemane ālisa weṃṣy=eṃntwe mīt śakk[är] ‘he would eat rejoicing, on [his] palm, excrement [as if] honey and sugar’ (42b5), [ā]ntpi päśne sā_u yaṣītr ālīn[e] ‘she placed [her] palms on [her] two breasts’ (84b5). + -- alyiṣṣe* ‘prtng to the palm’ (567b1). +∎TchA āle ‘id.’ and B aliye reflect PTch *āläi- or the like, a reflex of the widespread family of PIE *h₃el- ~ *h₃ōl- ‘elbow’ (so VW, 1941:11, Schneider, 1941:172; Hilmarsson, 1986:231). Typically *h₃el- ~ *h₃ōl- are found extended by -n- or by both -i- and -n- in either order [: Sanskrit āṇí- (m.) ‘part of the leg just above the knee’ (not the same word as āṇí- ‘linch-pin, axle-pin of a cart’), Greek ōlénē ‘elbow,’ ōlēn ‘id.,’ (Hesychian) ôllon (acc.) ‘id.,’ ōlékrānon ‘point of the elbow’ (< *ōlenokrānon by haplology), Latin ulna ‘elbow, arm’ (< *olinā-), Old Irish uilenn ‘corner,’ Welsh elin ‘elbow’ (< *olīnā-), Gothic aleina ‘ell,’ OHG elina ‘id,’ Old Norse eln ~ ǫln ‘id.,’ perhaps Albanian llërë ‘elbow’ (< *Vlénā-, if not an early borrowing from Greek ōlénē) (P:307-308; MA:176)]. For Tocharian we must start from a PIE *h₃ōlni- (as in Sanskrit āṇí-) or *h₃ōlnom (as in Greek ôllon), either of which would have give PTch *āllä > *āl (for the simplification of the neo-final consonant cluster, cf. yäl ‘gazelle’ from PIE *h₁élni-). This PTch *āl was extended by the productive PTch stem-formative *-äin-, whence regularly A āle and B alyiye (the secondary palatalization of -l- to -ly- before -i- is common, cf. the nom. pl. of the thematic kokale ‘wagon,’ namely kokalyi). As Hilmarsson rightly points out, a semantic development from *‘elbow’ to *‘lower arm’ (as in Greek for instance) > *‘inner surface of lower arm’ > ‘palm of the hand’ is well within the realm of possibility. (To be rejected as phonologically impossible are VW's (1976:161) connection with Lithuanian délna ‘palm,’ OCS dolonъ ‘id.’ and Stalmaszczyk and Witczak's (1990:39-40) connection with Old Irish asil ‘member.’) +

+ + +
+

+alyuṣmaññe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[-, -, alyuṣmaññe//] +ce alyuṣmaññe śka stereṃ Jñānaseneṃ Āryawatentse skeyesa sankrām wtetse lmāte (DAM-507-a3/4 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +

+ + +
+

+alyewce +See ālyauce. +

+ + +
+

+alyek +See allek. +

+ + +
+

+allāwo +‘?’
+/// [wa]r[t]one yopäṃ allāwo (33b8). +

+ + +
+

+allek +(adj.) +‘other, another’
+[m: allek, alyekepi, alyek (~ alyenk)//alyaik (~ alyaink ~ allaik), alyenkäṃts, alyenkäṃ] [f: alyāk, -, allok (~ alyenka)//alloykna ~ allonk, -, allonkna] +n_änok alyek [preke] ‘again [in] another time’ (3a5), alyek cmelne = BHS pretya (14a6), śaumo ks=allek [k]omt tsonkaik tsankoy ‘may some other person get up daily at dawn’ (19b6), alyek c[m]elne = BHS paratra (23b8), ñäś tallā_u wnolme pw=āllonkna cärkāw=ārtte wäntarwa ‘I, a suffering being, left all other things alone’ (45a2), alyekepi = BHS -anyatra (251a1), kewä[n] ṣäṃsemane al[y]enkänts ‘counting cattle for others’ (305b8), alyekepi = BHS parasya (545b1), [rapa]naṃ alyek wat no watkäṣṣäṃ rāpatsi ‘[if] he plows or orders another to plow’ (H-149.337b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:50]). +‣For the masculine we have (historically, probably not any longer underlyingly) a nom. sg. *ālle, acc. sg. *ālye, nom. pl. *ālyei, and acc. pl. *ālyen plus the intensifier -kä (and the stress shifted to the syllable immediately preceding the -kä, hence allék rather than *āllek). The accusative forms, singular and plural, form the basis of the corresponding genitives, hence alyek-epi and alyenk-äṃts. The actually attested accusative plural is not the expected *alyenk but rather alyenkäṃ with the regular ending of the accusative plural, -äṃ, added to the already characterized *alyenk. From its place of origin in the accusative plural the cluster -nk- is occasionally extended to the accusative singular (alyenk), the nominative plural (alyaink), and the feminine accusative singular (alyenka). The feminine is similarly formed with -kä to nom. sg. *ālyā, acc. sg. *āllo, nom. pl. *ālloñ (whence alloyk and allonk with different realizations of the unpermitted cluster *-ñk-), and acc. pl. *ālloṃ (like the corresponding masculine acc. pl. alyenkäṃ, allonkna has the regular feminine plural ending added to the already characterized *allonk). Tocharian A shows a similar system forms built on with the extension -kä (masculine: ālak (= B), āl(y)akäṃ, ālyek (= B), ālykes ~ ālyekäs; feminine: ālyāk (= B), ālyäkyāṃ, ālkont, ālkont). I take the once attested alek (289b3) as simply a defective spelling for allek. +
+The alternation of -ll- (unpalatalized) in the nominative singular and -ly- (palatalized) in the rest of the paradigm of the masculine of TchB follows the same pattern as do third person pronouns (e.g. nom. sg. se, but acc. sg. ce, nom. pl. cei, and acc. pl. ceṃ) or adjectives in -tstse (nom. sg. -tstse, but acc. sg. -cce, nom. pl. -cci, acc. pl. -cceṃ). See below. The alternation of -ll- and -ly- in the feminine does not follow the pattern of palatalization in third person pronouns or the adjectives in -tstse where the feminine is strictly unpalatalized. Nor does it match the privatives in -tte (masculine: -tte, -cce, -cci, -cceṃ; feminine -cca, -ccai, -ttona, -ttona). Otherwise, Winter (1991:151-153). + -- alyek-ypoye* ‘foreign, from another country’: alyek-ypoye kaṃtwa weṃ ne su duṣṭhul tākaṃ ne anā[patti] ‘[if] he speaks to him [in] a foreign tongue, it [is] a duṣṭul; anāpatti’ (325b2); +
+alyek-ypoyṣṣe* ‘foreign, from another country’ (81b4). +∎TchA ālak (with regular simplification of geminate -ll- in A) and B allek reflect PTch *ālle-kä where the *ālle- must be from PIE *h_aelno- [: Old Latin ollus ‘ille’ (< *h_aolno-), Old Irish oll (= Latin ollus) ‘full, great,’ Gaullish alla ‘aliud,’ allos ‘second,’ OCS lani (< *h_aolnei) ‘in the previous summer or year,’ and Sanskrit áraṇa- ‘distant, strange’ (P:24-25; MA:64)]. The -ly- (actually -lyly-) of certain forms are either analogically palatalized on the pattern of the third person pronouns or adjectives such as those in -tstse or result from a mixture of of *h_aelno- with *h_aelyo- ‘other’ [: Armenian ail, Greek állos, Latin alius, Old Irish aile, Gaulish alios, Gothic aljis, all ‘other’ (cf. also Old Saxon eli-lendi, OHG eli-lenti ‘strange land’ with B alyek-ypoyṣṣe or alyek-ypoye) (P:25-26; MA:64)] (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:927, VW:160-1, cf. Winter, 1991:150-153). PIE *h_aelyo- is clearly to be found as the first member of the old compound ālyauce ‘on another’ (< *h_aelyo- + dwito- ‘second’) and probably to be seen in the *āliyā- underlying alyiyatstse ‘± having otherness.’ +
+Tocharian shows the simple thematic *h_aelo- in aletstse ‘strange, unrelated,’ āläṃ ‘differently,’ and alokälymi ‘directed in a single direction,’ qq.v. As suggested by VW, TchA ynālek ‘elsewhere’ must be, on the basis of its form, a borrowing from B, even though it is unattested in the latter language. +See also ālyauce, aletstse, alyiyatstse and alokälymi. +

+ + +
+

+alletstse +See aletstse. +

+ + +
+

+avatrāpi* +(n.) +‘modest person’
+[-, -, avatrāpi//] +(200b5). +∎From BHS avatrāpin-. +

+ + +
+

+avamārga +See apamārga. +

+ + +
+

+avaṣi +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘powerless’
+(293b3). +∎If correctly segmented and identified, from BHS avaṣin- (Sieg, Siegling, 1953:183, fn. 18). +

+ + +
+

+avasth* +(n.) +‘state, condition’
+[-, -, avasth//] +(197b4). + -- avasthaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a state or condition’ (197b3) +∎From BHS avasthā-. +

+ + +
+

+avasthālakṣaṃ* +(n.) +‘± characteristic of a condition’
+[-, -, avasthālakṣaṃ//] +(197b5). +∎From BHS *avasthā-lakṣaṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+avijñaptirūp +(n.) +‘the form of unrecognized giving’
+[avijñaptirup, -, -//] +(192b2). +∎From BHS *avijñaptirūpa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). See Krause and Thomas, 1964:232 (s.v. rup). +

+ + +
+

+avidyä +(n.) +‘ignorance’
+[avidyä, -, avidyä//] +(180a3). +∎From BHS avidyā-. +

+ + +
+

+aviraje +(n.) +‘sheep-speck, a small unit of matter’
+[aviraje, -, -//] +(326b4). +∎From BHS avi-rajas-. +

+ + +
+

+avyākṛt* +(n.) +‘elementary, primordial substance’
+[-, -, avyākṛt//] +(200b5). +∎From BHS avyākṛta-. +

+ + +
+

+awāsīke* +(nm.) +‘monastic resident (?)’ or ‘monastic servant’ (?)
+[//awāsiki, -, awāsikeṃ] +(431a4, -b2). +∎From BHS āvāsika-. +

+ + +
+

+awāskatte +(adj.) +‘immovable; not-stirring, calm’
+[m: awāskatte, -, awāskacce//] [f: awāskacca, -, -//] +[ra]mt [a]wāskatte yolme ‘like a calm pond’ [awāskatte = BHS prakampaya-] (PK-NS-107b4). +∎Privative of wāsk- ‘move,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:39). +

+ + +
+

+awi +See ā_uw. +

+ + +
+

+awiś +See apiś. +

+ + +
+

+awlāwätte +(adj.) +‘uncontrolled, undisciplined’
+[awlāwätte, -, -//] +awlā[wätte] = BHS asamāhita- (H-149.236b3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:496]), awlāwa[tte] = BHS asaṃyata- (U-8b1). +∎Privative of wlāw- ‘control,’ q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:43). +

+ + +
+

+aśakula* +(n.) +‘± margin, edge’
+[-, -, aśakula//] +aśak_ulane enko[r]m[eṃ] = BHS prānte gṛhītvā (530a3). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+aśamati +(n.) +‘Desmodium gangeticum DC’ [aka Hedysarum gangeticum Linn.] (a medical ingredient)
+[aśamati, -, -//] +(W-31b4). +∎From BHS aṃśumatī-. +

+ + +
+

+aśari +(n.) +‘ācārya, teacher’
+[aśari, aśarintse, aśariṃ (voc. aśari)//-, aśarintaṃts, -] +tumeṃ putantimeṃ waiptār aśarintaṃts paiyne wināṣṣälle ... eṃṣke nawanti täṅtsi ‘then [the candidate is] to honor the feet of the ācāryas, each separately from the most senior to the newest’ (KVāc-18a4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:760]). +∎From BHS ācārya- (presumably through some Prakrit intermediary). +

+ + +
+

+aśāl +‘?’
+///ntse aśāl mla/// (629b3). +

+ + +
+

+aśāwe +(adj.) +‘± gross, rough’
+[m: aśāwe, -, -//] [f: //aśāwona, -, -] +k_use sw aśāw=omte yare krāke wat kärweñi ‘that which [is] gross here: gravel, dirt, and rocks’ (7a7). +∎TchB aśāwe is clearly related to A āśāwe [indeclinable], probably because the A word is borrowed from B (contra VW:170). Further connections are unknown. (For a suggestion, see VW, who relates the Tocharian words to PIE *ḱei- ‘lie.’) +

+ + +
+

+aśiya* +(nf.) +‘nun’
+[-, aśiyantse, aśiyai//aśiyana, aśiyanaṃts, aśiyana] +mäksu no ṣamāne mā alāṣmo ... aletstai aśiyaimeṃ ... trāskalye tsāltalye eñcīträ ‘whatever monk, not [being] sick, should take [either] hard or soft food from an unrelated nun’ (H-149.X.5a6), nawāke ... aśiyanaṃts pelaikn[e] ākṣa ... aśiyana parna rīsa prutkāre ‘a novice announced the law to [some] nuns; ... they locked the nuns out of the city’ (PK-AS-18B-a1 [Pinault, 1984b:376]). + -- aśyāññe ‘prtng to nuns’ (417a3). +∎Like TchA aśi, B aśiya is borrowed from Khotanese aśyā- ‘nun’ (VW:622, with previous literature). +

+ + +
+

+aśubh +(n.) +‘offensive thing’ (especially the human body in various states of decay)
+[aśubh, -, -//] +(9a3=10a1). +∎From BHS aśubha-. +

+ + +
+

+aśaikṣe* +(n.) +‘one no longer needing religious training’
+[//aśaikṣi, -, -] +(378b3). +∎From BHS aśaikṣa-. +See also śaikṣe. +

+ + +
+

+Aśokamitre +(n.) +‘Aśokamitra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Aśokamitre, -, -//] +(G-Su30). +

+ + +
+

+Aśokarakṣite* +(n.) +‘Aśokarakṣita’ (PN)
+[-, Aśokarakṣitentse, -//] +(378a1). +

+ + +
+

+Aśoke +(n.) +‘Aśoka’ (PN of a king)
+[Aśoke, -, Aśoke//] +(363b7). + -- aśokäññe* ‘prtng to Aśoka’ (275a1, 415b2). +

+ + +
+

+aśpäkānt +See aśvakant. +

+ + +
+

+aśyāññe +See aśiya. +

+ + +
+

+aśrāddhe +(n.) +‘unbeliever’
+[aśrāddhe, -, aśrāddhe//aśrāddhi, aśrāddheṃts, -] +(4a6). +∎From BHS aśraddha-. +See also śrāddhe. +

+ + +
+

+aśrām* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘ashram, the abode of an ascetic’
+[-, -, aśrām//] +(107a8). +∎From BHS āśrama-. +

+ + +
+

+Aśleṣ* +(n.) +‘[the constellation] Cancer’
+[-, -, Aśleṣ//] +(M-1b8). +∎From BHS aśleṣā-. +

+ + +
+

+aśvakant +(n.) +‘Withania somnifera Dunal’ (a medical ingredient).
+[aśvakant, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS aśvagandha-. +

+ + +
+

+aśvamet* +(n.) +‘aśvamedha (a major Hindu sacrifice)’
+[-, -, aśvamet//] +(290a1). +∎From BHS aśvamedha-. +

+ + +
+

+Aśvavārg* +(n.) +title of a portion of the Udānavarga
+[-, -, Aśvavārg//] +(313a4=S-5a4). +

+ + +
+

+Aśviṇi* +(n.) +‘[the constellation] Aries’
+[-, -, aśvini//] +(508b2, M-2a6). +∎From BHS aśvinī-. +

+ + +
+

+aṣanīke +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘worthy’; (b) ‘worthy one, arhat’
+[aṣanīke, aṣanīkentse, aṣanīkeṃ (voc.aṣanīka)//aṣanīkañ, aṣanīkeṃts [sic], aṣanīkaṃ ~ aṣanīkeṃ] +(a) wärpāte aṣañike bodhisatve ... onkorñai pinwāt [sic] ‘the worthy bodhisatva enjoyed the porridge [as] alms’ (107b8); +
+(b) ista[k pañä]kt[e]-käṣṣi cau wäntare śarsa aṣanikeṃ Śāriputreṃ Maud-galyāyaneṃ ‘immediately the buddha-teacher made this affair known to the arhats Ś. and M.’ (375b1). +∎A derivative of aṣāṃ ‘worthy’ (by way of an "agentive" suffix -ike) just as TchA āṣānik ‘id.’ is derived from āṣāṃ. The semantic equivalent of ar(a)hante, q.v. +See aṣāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+aṣāṃ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘worthy’
+///^.taññe ñem mā=ṣāṃ ste kākatsi ‘... [by] name is not worthy to be invited’ (92b2), [in Manichean script] ‘ž’n (Gabain/Winter:11 ). + -- mā-aṣāṃ ‘unworthy’: samp māṣṣāṃ yatsi ‘that one [is] unworthy to go’ (H-149.336a2 [Thomas, 1954:743]). +∎Like TchA āṣāṃ ‘id.’ a borrowing from Khotanese āṣaṇa- ‘worthy’ (Konow, 1932:118, Bailey, 1967:19, VW:624). +

+ + +
+

+Aṣärte +(n.) +‘Aṣärte’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Aṣärte, -, -//] +(491b-III-3). +

+ + +
+

+aṣiye +(adj.) +‘prtng to a goat’
+[aṣiye, -, aṣiye//] +aṣiye malkwersa ‘with goat milk’ (P-1a3/4), aṣiye iwene taṣale ‘[it is] to be set on a goat hide’ (W-40a5/6). +∎TchA ās ‘goat’ and B aṣiye ‘pertaining to a goat’ reflect a PTch *ās(e) ‘goat’ and *āṣiye ‘prtng to a goat.’ The word for ‘goat’ must be a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source. One might compare Middle Persian azak ‘goat.’ Phonologically it would be better to suppose a Middle Iranian *āz- with the same lengthened grade we see in Lithuanian ožỹs ‘buck’ [: also Sanskrit ája- (m.) ‘buck,’ ajā- (f.) ‘goat’ (P:6-7; MA:229)] (VW:623). +

+ + +
+

+aṣkār +(a) (adv.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘back, in the opposite direction; on the reverse’; (b) ‘reimbursement’
+(a) parso lywāwa-ś plāś aṣkār mā lywāsta ‘I sent a letter to thee; thou hast not sent back a reply’ (492a3/4), aṣkār klautka = BHS nivartate (528b3), wace meṃne Puñaiyśe aṣkār lac ‘in the second month P. came back’ (G-Su26), ṣotri ṣecaki aṣkār läkāskemane ‘the sign of the lion [is] seen on the reverse’ (Otani 19.1.6 [Pinault, 1998:364]); +
+(b) aṣkārsa ṣorye [lege: ṣotarye] perisa enku ṣe-ñ ‘because of this significant debt [that must be] reimbursed, he has been seized by me’ (DAM-507-a9/10 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎Related to TchA ṣkārā ‘id.’ (where the -ā is the TchA perlative ending) by the prefixation of the intensive prefix e(n)- (whence ā- by regular ā-umlaut--see ¹e(n)-). Extra-Tocharian connections are unknown. VW (455-456) suggests an unlikely connection with PIE *seuk- ‘turn, twist.’ +

+ + +
+

+asaṃkhyai* +(n.) +‘an incalculably long time’
+[-, asaṃkhyaintse, asaṃkhyai//asaṃkhyainta, -, asaṃkhyainta] +(296a8). + -- asaṃkhyaiṣṣe ‘prtng to an incalculably long period of time’ (600a1); +
+asaṃkhyaintaṣṣe ‘prtng to incalculably long periods of time’ (184a4). +∎From BHS asaṃkhyeya-. +

+ + +
+

+asāṃ* +(n.) +(a) ‘seat, throne’; (b) [in dual] ‘buttocks’
+[-, -, asāṃ/-, -, asāñcne/-, asānäntaṃts, asān(än)ta] +(a) wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe ‘from the great royal throne’ (5a4), klyiye ṣamānentse asāṃ nātkaṃ ‘[if] a woman nudges a monk's seat’ (325a1); +
+(b) kātso mā [tparya] mā ra rukausa pw asāñcnesa wawlāwausa ‘the stomach, not fat and not lean, completely controlled on the buttocks’ (73b2). +∎From BHS āsana-. +

+ + +
+

+asāre +(adj.) +‘dry’
+[m: asāre, -, //] +(K-T) +∎The equivalent of TchA āsar. An adjectival derivative from the subjunctive stem of ¹ās- ‘become dry,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+asūre* +(n.) +‘demon’
+[//āsūri, āsūreṃts, -] +(TEB-58-21). +∎From BHS āsura-. +

+ + +
+

+ask(w)ace +(nf.) +‘darbha-grass’ (Desmostachya bipinnata Stapf, aka Poa cynosuroides Retz.)
+[ask(w)ace, ask(w)acentse, -//ask(w)aci, -, -] +ysaṣṣa askace mänt pälka kektseñe täñ ‘thy body glows like golden kuśa-grass’ (224b2), askwacentse ākesa = BHS kuśāgreṇa (308b3). +∎Given that the TchA equivalent is āskāc, Isebaert (1978) is probably right in seeing the B word as underlyingly /āsk(w)āce/. The spelling <a> for the second vowel is the result of its either being unstressed or a dialect spelling where the "standard" language would have had <ā>. Thus we have a PTch *āskwāce but otherwise its etymology is unknown. Isebaert suggests an *āt-sḱwā-ten- and a relationship to atiyo ‘grass’ but the morphology seems very strained. (More particularly I do not expect a verbal derivative in *-sḱe/o- added directly to a nominal stem.) +

+ + +
+

+astare +(adj.) +‘pure’ [astare yām- ‘purify’]
+[m: astare ~ āstre, -, (astareṃ ~) āstreṃ/-, -, āstri/āstri, -, āstreṃ] [f: astarya, -, astaryai//-, -, astarona ~ āstrona] +āstreṃ = BHS śuddha (31a5), sū rano ṣäp ipreräntse ānte snai tärkarwa astare klautka ‘and also the surface of the sky turned cloudless and pure’ (350a4), mäkte ost poṣiyantsa [wa]wārpau [pa]paikau ā[s]tre ‘like a house surrounded by walls and painted clean’ (A-2a4/5), astare nanāṣūsa klyiye tkācer wāltsoyä se curṇä k_use sal ṣarne yāmu tākoy tesa nāṣṣi istak ast[are] ‘a cleanly bathed woman or girl should grind [it]; this [is] the powder; whoever [has] dirty hands should treat [them] with it; should he bathe, instantly [he is] pure’ (P-2b6). + -- astre-pälsko ‘having a pure spirit’: = BHS śubhacittaḥ (12b8); astre-were ‘having a pure aroma’ (300b2); +
+astaräññe ‘purity’: astarñe = BHS śubha (8b6), eṃṣketse āratsiśco yātatsiś astarñeś ṣeko ‘[one should trust in] the lasting cessation and the ability to practice purity for ever’ [astarñeś = BHS śuddhaye] (30a2/3), astaräññe = BHS pariśuddhi (41a7), astaräṃñe = BHS viśuddhi (Y-3b3). +∎TchA āṣtär and B astare reflect PTch *āst(ä)re but extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. Probably the PTch word is *āst-re and *āst- a verbal root (cf. kätkare ‘deep’ from kätk- ‘± lower’). If so, we might see in it a derivative of PIE *h₂eh₁(-s)- ‘burn’ [: Tocharian ās- ‘dry,’ Latin āra ‘hearth, altar,’ Oscan aasaí ‘in āra,’ Hititte hassa- ‘fireplace, hearth,’ Sanskrit āsa- (m.) ‘ashes’ (< *‘burnings’)]. The Latin, Hittite, and Sanskrit nouns require a PIE *h₂eh₁s-o/eh_a- or perhaps *h₂eh₃s-o/eh_a- since we do not really know what happens when vowels are adjacent to laryngeals of competing "color" (Melchert, p.c.). In any case the Hittite geminate would be regular from either *-h₁s- or *-h₃s-. The Oscan form may require an earlier *ās-s-ā-. +
+The *-s- here is an élargissement to the root *h₂eh₁- (or *h₃eh₃-) ‘burn’ otherwise seen in Palaic hā- ‘be hot,’ Iranian ātar- ‘fire’ (< *‘burner’), Latin ātrium, originally *‘chimney-way over a hearth,’ āter ‘black’ (< *ātr-o- ‘blackened by fire’), Albanian vatër (f.) (< *ātrā-) ‘hearth’ (whence vatra ‘hearth’ in Slavic and vatra ‘fire’ in Rumanian), Old Irish aith (f.) ‘kiln’ (< *ā-ti-). (Of uncertain connections are Armenian ačiun ‘ash,’ OHG asca, Old Norse aska, Old English äsce, all ‘ash’ [< *asg-], and Armenian azazim ‘dry’ and Gothic azgo ‘ash’ [< *asgh-].) Particularly we should compare what would be the closest phonological equivalent, Latin ardeō ‘burn, glow, be on fire’ (< *h₂eh₁s-(e)d^h-eh₁-) and Gaulish addas, if this means ‘he sacrificed’ (< h₂eh₁s-d^h-eh_a-s- ‘made burn,’ cf. Eska, 1990:9-10, fn. 19). The Tocharian adjective would then be *h₂eh₁s-d^h-ro- (Adams, 1995, MA:87). Semantically we would have *‘burning’ > *‘brilliant’ > ‘pure, clean.’ For the semantic change, see the examples in Buck (1949:1079-1081) and also Khotanese sura- ‘clean, pure’ from older Iranian, e.g. Avestan, suxra- ‘red (from fire)’ and related to *suk- ‘burn’ (cf. Khot sūjs- ‘burn’). +
+Not with Schneider (1941:37, fn. 2) should we connect this word with Greek astēr ‘star’ nor with VW (170) do we have ā-str-e with ā- the intensive prefix (we would expect *e- except before a syllable with -ā-) plus *ster- as in Latvian stars ‘branch, ray,’ OCS strěla ‘arrow’ and OHG strāl ‘arrow, ray.’ +See also possibly ās-¹. +

+ + +
+

+astāṣṣe +See āy. +

+ + +
+

+aspāwatte +(adj.) +‘not subsiding’ (?)
+[aspāwatte, -, -//] +/// [cme]läṣṣe mä[nt] reṣṣäṃ aspa[watte] /// ‘like the [cycle] of birth it flows unsubsiding’ (146a1). +∎Privative of spāw-, q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:35-36). +

+ + +
+

+aswāre +(adv.) +‘not sweetly, not tenderly’
+[ñi]ś passāmai ṣañ larenaṃ | aswāre ka śauuwa-me ‘I flayed my loved ones and let them be killed untenderly’ (H-ADD.149.88b7). +∎The negative of swāre, q.v. (see also ²e(n)- and Hilmarsson, 1991:128-129). +

+ + +
+

+ats +(particle) +‘± indeed’
+kutumñcik motsts=ats lāñi yamaṣälona ‘kutumñcik with alcohol, streams indeed [of it are] to be made’ (W-3a6). +See attsaik. +

+ + +
+

+atsiñe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[atsiñe, -, -//] +atsiñe yoñiyatse Śiñcake Sutasomi procer ///(Lévi, 1913:320). +∎A derivative of āttsi, q.v.? +

+ + +
+

+ā- +(verbal prefix) +‘near, away, down’
+∎Surely equal to Sanskrit ā- with an essentially identical range of meaning. Sanskrit ā- can of course reflect either PIE *ā- or *ō- as can what must be a Germanic cognate *ō- as in OHG uohaldi ‘precipice’ (‘down-slope’), uokalo ‘partly bald,’ uokumft ‘succession’ (‘after-coming’), uowahst ‘growth, increase, sprout,’ uozurnen ‘to disdain,’ Old English ōheald ‘precipice,’ ōden ‘threshing floor,’ ōwästm ‘growth, sprout,’ ōweb ‘woof,’ ōlaccan ‘to flatter, be obsequious.’ Also related, presumably because from PIE *ē- beside *ō-, is Proto-Germanic *ē- as in OHG ābulgi ‘anger,’ āherz ‘foolish,’ Old English ǟbylgi ‘anger,’ ābelgan ‘to anger,’ āþencan ‘devise, consider,’ etc. (see Lloyd, 1987). +See ākl-, ār-, aip-, aiw-, aul- and somewhat more distantly -sa, akartte, and ās-². +

+ + +
+

+ā(_u)w +(nf.) +‘ewe’
+[ā_uw, -, -//awi, -, -] +orotsana awi ‘large [= pregnant?] ewes’ (PK-LC-I.4 [Pinault, 1997:177]). +∎From PIE *h₂ówis ‘sheep’ [Old Irish oi ‘sheep,’ Latin ovis ‘sheep,’ Old Norse ǟr ‘sheep,’ Old English ēow ‘sheep,’ OHG ou ~ ouwi ‘sheep,’ Lithuanian avìs ‘sheep,’ Greek ó(w)is ‘sheep,’ Armenian hoviw ‘shepherd,’ Luvian hāwa/i- ‘sheep,’ Lycian xawa- ‘sheep,’ Sanskrit ávi- ‘sheep’ (P:784; MA:510)] (Pinault, 1997:190-193). Both English and Tocharian show a change from *‘sheep’ (whether male or female) to ‘ewe.’ The Tocharian shows the generalization of the *h₂ew- of the weak forms. +See also eye and aiyye. +

+ + +
+

+āk¹ +(n.) +‘± zeal’
+[āk, -, -//] +śīlaṣṣana sälyeṃno [sic] prākre ysomo eñcīmar mā āk k_uloytär-ñ ‘may I grasp together firmly the lineaments of moral behavior; may my zeal not fail!’ (S-4a3). +∎Presumably the exact equivalent of either Sanskrit ājí- (m./f.) ‘race, match; combat’ (< pre-Indic *āǵi-) or of Middle Irish āg ‘combat’ (pre-Celtic < *āǵu-, both derivatives of PIE *h_aeǵ- ‘drive, lead’ (P:4; MA:201; VW, 1971c:157, 1976:158). Hilmarsson (1986a:163) thinks we have here a root noun *h_aeǵ-, while VW assumes wrongly an *h_aeǵōn. +See More s.v. āk- ‘lead, drive.’ +

+ + +
+

+āk*² +(n.) +‘ear of grain’ (?)
+[//āka, -, - (or is it acc.?)] +///itso paiyn=āka [lege: ṣaiy-n=āka] /// (416b2). +‣Krause and Thomas seem quite certain of the word's meaning but that certainty must rest on other, unpublished, sources. +∎If correctly identified, this word must be a derivative of PIE *h_aeḱ- ‘sharp, pointy’ (Krause, 1961:88). Semantically the closest relatives would be Gothic ahs (gen. ahsis) ‘ear of grain,’ Old Norse ax ‘id.’ OHG ahir ~ ehir (nt.) (< *ahiz-) ‘id.,’ Old English ēar (< *ahuz-) ‘id.’ Formally B āk looks like a PIE *h_aeḱo- (nt.) or perhaps *h_aeḱs (nt.) (= Gothic) with an analogical plural (built on the singular āk that resulted with the loss of final *-s). There is no reason to see this word in B as the result of borrowing from A (so VW:157-158). +See also āke. +

+ + +
+

+āk- +(vt.) +‘lead, guide, drive’ [keś āl- ‘pay attention to’]
+Ps. II /āk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, āśäṃ//-, -, ākeṃ; MP -, -, āśtär//; APart. aśeñca; MPPart. akemane; Ger. aśalle]; Ko. V /wāyā-/ [A -, -, wāyaṃ//-, -, wāyaṃ] [AOpt. -, -, wāyoy//; MPOpt. wāyoymar, -, -//; Inf. wāyatsi]; Ipv. I /päwāyā-/ [MPSg. pwāyar]; Pt. Ib /wāyā-/ [A -, -, wāya//-, -, wayāre], MP [-, -, wayāte//-, -, wayānte]; PP /wāwāyā-/. +[ṣ]ñ k[e]wän śakātaisa kalṣtär-me ṣñār wepeṃś aśan-me ‘he drives his own cattle with a goad and leads them each to his own enclosures’ [aśan-me = BHS prāpayati] (3a3), etsuwai āśäṃ = BHS upanayanti [sic] (11a8), brāhmaṇi Uttareṃ mñcuṣkeṃ ākemane Candramukhi lānte yapoyne klānte-ne ‘leading prince U., they brought him into the country of king C.’ (88b5/6), aśalle = BHS -neya- (541a2), se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyana[mpa o]lyine ṣamäṃ kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat ‘[if] a monk sits by agreement in a boat with nuns and guides [it] upstream or downstream’ (PK-AS-18B-b4/5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]), weśeñ[ai]sa āśtär = BHS ghoṣeṇa nīyate (PK-AS-230b1 [Pinault, 1991b]); lo lmau tākoy mā keś wāyoy pāyalyñe ‘he must sit down far off and must not pay any attention to the singing’ (PK-15D-b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]); ce_u Uttareṃ erkenmāsa wayānte ‘they led U. to the cemetery’ (133b7), prekṣallen[e] wayāre-ne prekṣentäṃ weñāre ‘they led him to the questioning and the judges spoke’ (H-149-ADD.12b1 [Thomas, 1967:26. fn. 35]). +∎AB āk- reflects PTch *āk- from PIE *h_aeǵ- [: Sanskrit ájati ‘drives,’ Avestan azaiti ‘drives, leads away,’ Armenian acem ‘lead, bring,’ Greek ágō ‘lead,’ Latin agō ‘drive, lead, deal with, be engaged in,’ Old Irish ad-aig (*ad-aget) ‘drives, forces,’ Old Welsh agit ‘goes,’ Old Norse aka ‘travel,’ and many nominal derivatives, P:4ff; MA:170] (Peterson, 1933:19, VW:158). Like the rest of Indo-European, Tocharian gives evidence for only a (thematic) present to this root: the aorist and perfect to this root are everywhere late or likely to be late (the agreement in form of the Sanskrit perfect āja [only in grammarians] and Old Norse preterite ōk is trivial and surely the result of independent creation). +
+TchA wā(w)- and B wāyā- reflect PTch *woyā- (the contraction of *-āyā- to -ā- in A and the change of the optative wāyi- to wāwi- by glide-dissimilation are regular). PTch *woyā- is probably the exact equivalent of Lithuanian vajóti ‘to drive, chase, pursue,’ both reflecting a PIE iterative-intensive *woi(h_x)-éh_a-. PIE *wei(h_x)- is also to be seen in Sanskrit véti ‘follows, strives, leads, drives’ (3rd. pl. vyánti), Avestan vayeiti ‘follows, hunts,’ Greek hīemai ‘move oneself forward, strive, desire,’ Lithuanian vejù (výti) ‘drive, chase, pursue,’ OCS po-vi-nǫti ‘subdue’ (P:1123-4). This etymology is ultimately Meillet's (in Hoernle, 1916:385, cf. also VW:550). Not with Winter (1962:32) is this word the equivalent of Lithuanian (iterative) vadžióti ‘lead’ (from PIE *wed- ‘lead, take a woman in marriage’) since the Lithuanian word would appear to reflect a purely Lithuanian conflation of the two PIE o-grade iterative formations, *wodeye/o- [: OCS (iterative) voždǫ ‘lead,’ and Avestan vāδayeiti ‘leads’] and *wodéh_a- [: Latvian vadãt] ‘lead’ (cf. P:1115-1116). +See also āk¹ and wayauca. +

+ + +
+

+ākāśadhātu* +(n.) +‘sky-element’
+[-, -, ākāśadhātu//] +(178b1). +∎From BHS *ākāśa-dhātu- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+āke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘end’ [N-gen. āke yām- ‘put an end to’]
+[āke, -, āke//-, -, akenta] +śaul attsaik totka śāmnaṃts ñke wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä atyaṃts a[k]entasa ‘the life of men [is] short [like] the drop of water on the tips of grasses’ (3b3/4), āke = BHS anta (29a4), po kleśanma näkṣeñca po cmelats āke yāmṣeñca ‘destroying all kleśas, making an end to all births’ (30a6), askwacentse ākesa = BHS kuśāgreṇa (308b3). + -- akessu ‘at the end, last in time or place’: akessu śmaśānike ste ‘the cremating ground is final’ (559a4), ake[ssu] = BHS antyaṃ (H-ADD.149.153a4 [Couvreur, 1966: 181]), akessuntsai preścyai[ne] ‘in the last time’ (unpubl. Paris fragm. [ibid.]); +
+aketstse* ‘last’: [a]keceṃ = BHS -anta- (H-ADD.149.62a5 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). +∎TchA āk and B āke reflect PTch *āke, presumably from a PIE *h_aeḱos-, from *h_aeḱ- ‘sharp, pointy’ (Meillet and Lévi, 1911:462, see also VW:157 and P:21-22: MA:237). The s-stem derivative is seen otherwise in Greek ákhnē ‘chaff’ (< *h_aeḱ-s-neh_a-), ēkēs ‘sharp’ (puriēkēs ‘with fiery points,’ tanuēkēs ‘with long points’), Latin acus (gen. aceris) ‘chaff,’ the latter an exact equivalent of PTch *āke, and Gothic ahs (gen. *ahsis) ‘ear [of grain].’ With a further t-extension we have Greek akostē ‘barley,’ or possibly ‘grain of any kind’ (as the ‘pointy’ grain or the like), Lithuanian akštìs ~ akstìs ‘(Räucher)spiess,’ ãstinas ‘Stachel, Ochsenstechen, Feder-stachel,’ OCS ostь (m.) ‘Stachel,’ and Russian ost' ‘point, awn,’ Welsh eithin (< *h_aeḱstīno-) ‘gorse’). +See also akek, akañc, and akañcar, probably akeñe, and a bit more distantly āk². +

+ + +
+

+ākteke ~ āktike +(a) ([indeclinable] adj.); (b) (n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘wonderful’; (b) ‘wonder, wonderful thing’
+(a) sū ololyesa ākteke wantare yamaṣa ‘he has done a very astonishing thing’ (77a3); +
+(b) ākteke te totka śaul śāmnaṃts ‘a wonder [is] this; short [is] the life of men’ (3a5/6), [in Manichean script] ’gtygys’ [= āktikesa] (Gabain/Winter:14). + -- āktekaññe ‘wonder, miracle’ (103b1); +
+āktikäññe* ‘id.’: yātalñeṣṣe paryarīsa [] āktikäññesa wa[t] = BHS ṛddhiprātihārye (527b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Čop (1953:172) made the interesting suggestion that this word might be connected to Greek ágamai ‘am astonished’ but the details of the formation remain obscure (cf. VW:160). +

+ + +
+

+ākl- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘learn’; K ‘teach’
+G Ko. IV /āklyi-/ [MP -, -, aklyitär//-, -, aklyiyentär; Inf. akl(y)itsi]; Pt. Ib /āklyiyā-/ [akly(i)yamai, akly(i)yatai, akly(i)yate//]; PP /āklu-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /ākläsk^'ä/e-/ [A -, -, ākläṣṣäṃ//; MP // -, āklästär, -; APart. (see below); Ger. ākläṣṣälle] +latau ostmeṃ poyśi[ṃ]ś aklyamai [sic] po solme tarya pṭikänta ‘I left the house for the Buddha; I learned the entire tripitaka’ (400b3); kṣatriññempa āklu ñiś sakne aukṣu ‘I [was] learnèd in kṣatriya-lore and grown up in good fortune’ (89a1); āklästär-ne krent [pelaikne] ‘you teach the good law’ (26a1), śastarma ākläṣṣäṃ ‘he teaches [him] the laws’ (110b8). + -- āklorsa ‘by learning’; +
+āklyilñe ‘study, learning’: se no akliñe [sic] ste = BHS ayaṃ tv āgamo (199b3), tune nke twe wīna källāt mā= klyilñene ‘thus then thou wilt find pleasure, [but] not in study’ (286a3). +
+aklaṣṣälñe ‘± teaching’ (522b4); +
+aklaṣṣeñca: aklaṣṣeñcant [lege: aklaṣṣeñcats] allek warpalñe ste (197a6). [Or is this the participle from the expected present of the Grundverb with the stress on the second syllable, ākläsk^'ä/_e-?]. +∎AB ākl- reflect a PTch *ākl- but external connections are less certain. We have the prefix *ā- ‘toward, near, away’ (VW wrongly assumes a ā- ‘in’ but ā- means ‘in’ only as the result of ā-umlaut from ¹e(n)-), plus a verbal root, either ²käl- ‘bring’ (so VW:158, citing such semantic parallels as German einführen, English introduce, Sanskrit āgam- ‘arrive, receive news of, learn of’) or käly- ‘stand’ (Jasanoff, p.c., citing English understand; one might add Greek epístamai ‘know how to, understand’). The substantial morphological identity of the subjunctive of ākl-, namely āklyi-, and the present of käly-, namely käly^'ä/_e-, both from PIE *klh₁-ye/o-, would appear to argue for the latter identification over the former. +See also akalye, akalṣälle, and, more distantly, käly-. +

+ + +
+

+āklyi +See akalye. +

+ + +
+

+ākṣar +See akṣār. +

+ + +
+

+ākṣi* +(n.) +‘one who announces, instructs in, recites’
+[-, -, ākṣiṃ//] +pelaikn=akṣiṃ ‘reciter of the law’ (U-19a2). +∎A nomen agentis of the ¹āks-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+āks-¹ +(vt.) +‘announce, proclaim, instruct, issue [a proclamation], recite’
+Ps. XI /āksäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A aksaskau, aksasto, aksaṣṣäṃ// -, aksaścer, aksaskeṃ//; AImpf. -, -, aksaṣṣi//; APart. aksaṣṣeñca; MPPart. aksaskemane; Ger. aksaṣṣalle]; Ko. II /āks^'ä/_e-/ [A āksau, -, ākṣäṃ//; MP -, -, ākṣtär//; AOpt. akṣim, akṣit, ākṣi//; Inf. āk(ṣt)si; Ger. akṣalle]; Ipv. VI /pokse-/ [Sg. pokse, Pl. pokses]; Pt. Ib /ākṣā-/ [A akṣāwa, akṣāsta, ākṣa//-, -, akṣāre]; PP /ākṣo-/ +pernento ytāri klyomñai aksasto ‘thou dost announce the glorious and noble way’ (204b1), ṣamāni aśiyanaṃts pelaikne aksaskeṃ ‘monks recite the law to the nuns’ (PK-AS-18B-a4 [Pinault, 1984b:377]); [a]kṣi n_äno n_äno skloka[cceṃts] ‘he should again and again instruct the doubters’ (26a4), ākṣtsi = BHS avavad- (Pātayanika-fragm.-a5 [Thomas, 1987a:170]); [k_uce ñaś ñake] saim yāmmar pokse-ñ saim-wasta ‘tell me, O refuge, when I should take refuge!’ (45a3); ytāri akṣāwa-me nervāṃṣṣai riś ‘I told them the way to the nirvana city’ (28a2), or-śacāre ākṣa ‘he issued [this] caravan-pass’ (LP-2a3/4). + -- akṣalñe ‘instruction’: snai käṣṣiṃ cwi snai akṣalñe āryamārg ṣe twasastär ‘this one kindles the Āryamarga without his teacher and without instruction’ (591b4). +∎AB āks - reflect PTch *āks- from PIE *h₁ǵ-s-, an élargissement of h₁ēǵ- (or possibly *h₁eh₁ǵ-) ‘say’ [: Latin aiō ‘say, affirm,’ adagium ‘proverb,’ Greek ê ‘he said’ (< *h₁ēǵt, whence êmi ‘I say’ and êsi ‘he says’), anōga ‘I ordered,’ Armenian aṙac ‘proverb,’ asem ‘I say’ (rebuilt from *as ‘he said’ < *ac), and more particularly Latin axāre ‘nomināre,’ axāmenta ‘carmina’ (P:290-291; MA:535)] (Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:377, VW:159). The starting point for Tocharian must have been a present *h₁ǵs-e/o-. +See also aksaṣṣuki, ākṣi, and probably āks-². +

+ + +
+

+āks-² +(vi./vt.) +‘waken’ [both transitive and intransitive]
+Ps. XI /āksāsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. āksaṣṣeñca; Ger. āksaṣṣälle]; Ko. V /āksā-/ [A āksau, -, āksaṃ//; AOpt. āksoym, -, -//]; Pt. Ib /āksā-/ [A -, -, āksa//]; PP /āksā-/ +aksāṣe[ñcatse] = BHS jagrāto (H-149.329a1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486]); ṣpänemeṃ āksa ‘he awoke from sleep’ (373b3); saksa ṣp aiksnar [lege: kästwer] lkäntsan-n[e] [lege: kläntsan-ne] | āksau ṣpak kāccä[n] ‘fortunately he sleeps by night and awakening he rejoices’ [āksau = BHS pratibuddha] (14b3). + -- āksalñe ‘awakening’: krent āksalñe ṣek ā[ks]oym tarya śpāl[m]eṃ [n]aumyenta araṃśn=enku ‘may I always awake the good awakening, taking into [my] heart the three excellent jewels’ (S-4b4/5). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (159) associates this verb with Greek akoúō ‘hear,’ Gothic hausjan ‘id.,’ built to an élargissement of widespread *keu- ‘pay attention to’ [: particularly Slovene čuti ‘hear, wake up’ and Polish czuwaś ‘be awake’ (P:587-588)]. Also possible would be a connection with PIE *h₁ēǵ- ‘say’ (see āks-¹) in the form *h₁ǵs-. For the semantics we might compare Old Irish dúisighim ‘wake’ (both tr. and intr.) from do- + -od- + sech- ‘say’ (< PIE *sek^w-). We have ‘call (up)’ > ‘wake up.’ This would be the better option formally since Tocharian āksā- would be a perfect match for Latin axāre ‘nomināre’ and axāmenta ‘carmina.’ In either case the present stem is formed from that seen in the subjunctive and preterite by the addition of (PIE) -sḱe/o-. +See also āks-¹. +

+ + +
+

+ākhu* +(n.) +‘mole; mouse, rat’
+[-, -, ākhu//] +(511a1). +∎From BHS ākhu-. +

+ + +
+

+āgat* +(n.) +‘remedy’
+[//āgatänta, -, -] +(46b3). +∎From BHS agada-. +

+ + +
+

+āgam +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± traditonal doctrine or precept’
+[āgam, -, āgam//] +(197a3). +∎From BHS āgama-. +

+ + +
+

+ānk +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘member, part; division of a science’
+[ānk, -, ānk//] +(H-149.46b8 [Thomas, 1957:157]). +∎From BHS anga-. +

+ + +
+

+ānkär +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘tusk’
+[ānkär, -, -//] +onkolmaññe ānkär ‘elephant ivory/tusk’ (PK-NS-13+516a1 [Couvreur, 1967:154]), eñcuwañe kentse onkolmaññe ānkär te ṣeme yarm ‘iron filings, elephant tusk/ivory, the same measure’ (W-31b1/2). +∎Related in some fashion to TchA ānkar ‘id.’ (note the disparity of vowel in the second syllable) but extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are uncertain. Pokorny (46) suggests a connection with PIE *h_aenk- ‘bend’ (we might note Greek ánkūra ‘anchor; pruning hook’). If so, there may be a connection with onkolmo ‘elephant,’ q.v. VW (165-166) is surely wrong in suggesting a connection with PIE *neḱ- ‘destroy.’ +

+ + +
+

+ānktsaś +‘?’ [allative of a PN?]
+Nand[eṃ] ā[ṅ]tsaś pūdñäkte /// (A-1b1). +

+ + +
+

+ācār +See acār. +

+ + +
+

+ājivīke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘a Jainist religious mendicant’
+[ājīvike, -, -//-, ājīvikeṃts, -] +(23b3). +∎From BHS ājīvika-. +

+ + +
+

+āñu +(n.) +‘rest, peace; cessation’
+[āñu, -, āñu//] +śwāṃ-ne ynkauṃ kästwer mā=ñu kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘they [scil. the worms] eat him day and night and he doesn't achieve rest’ (33b1), wace ṣarsa [saṃ]tkenta laupoy-ne āñu yamī-ne ‘with the second hand he might smear the medicaments [on] him and give him rest’ (154b1), snay [ā]ñu yältsa [lege: yältse] kalpänma aron ṣo [lege: po] ‘without peace a thousand ages might all cease’ (248b1). +∎TchA āñu and B āñu reflect PTch *āñu (unless one is borrowed from the other) but extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are uncertain. Certainly not (with VW:165) the intensive prefix ā- (which should occur in this form only if the following syllable contained an -ā-, see e(n)-) + *mn- (from PIE *men- ‘remain’) + suffix. As an alternative one might imagine a connection with Greek áneu ‘far from, without,’ Gothic inu (< *h₁en-) ‘without,’ and OHG ānu (< *h₁ēn-) ‘id.’ To account for the Greek and Germanic forms, which surely must be related, we would need to reconstruct a PIE *h₁(e)nh₁-(e)u- with Greek showing the zero-grade of the first syllable, Gothic a full-grade, and OHG a lengthened grade. Conversely Greek shows a full-grade of the second syllable and the Germanic forms zero-grade. Tocharian would show a nominal derivative *h₁ōnh₁ew-o- (nt.) (P:318; MA:646). +

+ + +
+

+āñcāl +See añcāl. +

+ + +
+

+āñcanarasa +(n.) +‘a preparation of antimony’ (a medical ingredient)
+[añcarasa, -, -//] +(W-25a5). +∎From BHS añjanarasa-. +

+ + +
+

+āñmalāṣṣälñe +See añmalāṣṣälñe. +

+ + +
+

+āñme¹ +(n.) +‘wish, desire’
+[āñme, añmantse, āñm//] +śwātsi mā āñme somotkäṃñe sosoyusa kektseñe mäsketä[r] ‘[there is] no desire to eat; likewise [his] body is satiated’ (FS-a3), /// [s]n[ai]y āñm karsoym pīś āntseṃ mā ṣe[kaññeṃ] ‘may I know without desire the five elements of inconstancy’ (S-2b4). + -- añmassu ‘desirous’: bhavākkärṣṣai yoñiyai eṃṣke katkässi añmassu ‘desirous of passing along the way to the last and highest existence’ (108b3). +∎Synchronically probably distinct from the homonymous āñme² ‘self, inner being, soul’ (see āñme*²) but diachronically merely a semantic specialization of it (so, as one possibility, VW:164-165). For the semantic collocation one might compare Latin animus ‘seat of feeling; character; seat of the will, intention’ or Hittite istanza(n)- which is basically ‘soul, mind’ but may also mean ‘will, desire.’ The second meaning in Hittite derives from predicate collocations such as mahhan LUGAL-I Zi-anza ‘as [is] to the king soul (nom.)’ = ‘as the king has [a] mind’ = ‘as the king wishes’ (Melchert, p.c.). +See also āñme*² and añmaññ-. +

+ + +
+

+āñme*² +(n.) +‘self; inner being, soul’
+[-, añmantse, āñm//] +walo aknātsa su märsau ṣañ āñm atsaik ñem Araṇemi ‘the king [is] a fool; he [has] forgotten indeed his own name, Araṇemi’ (81a2/3), /// ̇ ̇s ̇ yaitkor po āñmtsa pāṣṣat ‘keep [this] command with all thy heart’ (95a4), [k]_u[se ai]ś[i]tär kartse [añ]mantse [añmantse = BHS ātmana] (305a1), yamaskenträ onmiṃ kwipeññenträ āñme ka ‘they regret and they are ashamed [of] themselves’ (K-3a3), yāmi speltke po āñmtsa āñme ket tsälpātsi tākoy ‘may he strive with all [his] soul whose soul [is] to be redeemed!’ (K-8a4), kr_ui añme mā nesäṃ kete ñäke tsälpālñe pälskanāträ ‘if there is no self, of whose redemption will he think?’ (PK-12I-b5 [Thomas, 1979:43]). + -- añmaṣṣe ‘personal’: añmaṣṣana toṃ läkl[enta] ‘personal sufferings’ (7b5), twe ñi lare añmaṣṣe ‘thou [art] to me personally dear’ (241b4); +
+āñm-nākälñe* ‘self-reproach’ (K-3b2). +∎TchA āñcäm (oblique āñm-) and B āñme (AB āym- both represent āñm- with dissimulative denasalization of the first nasal) reflect a PTch *āñc(ä)me, most probably (as if) from a PIE *h_aen(h₁)tmen-. This *h_aen(h₁)tmen- is a conflation of *ētmen- [: Sanskrit ātmán- (m.), Old English ǟδm (m.), OHG ātum (m.), all ‘breath’ (P:345; MA:82)] and the widespread, and essentially synonymous, family of *h_aen(h₁)- ‘breathe’ (P:38-39; MA:82). The underlying verb is preserved in Sanskrit ániti ‘breathes,’ Gothic uz-anan ‘exhale,’ Old Irish anaid ‘rests, remains,’ Albanian ëj (< *h_aen(h₁)ye/o-) ‘blow [of wind],’ TchB anāsk- ‘breathe, exhale,’ q.v. We should note particularly those forms with a t-suffix of some sort: Avestan åntya and paråntya ‘inhalation’ and ‘exhalation’ (< *ā- and para- + antya-), possibly in the Hesychian ántai ‘ánemoi’ and antás ‘pnoiás,’ in Germanic *anþō- (Old Norse ǫnd (f.) ‘soul, breath’), *anþōjan (Old Norse anda ‘breathe,’ Old English ōδian ‘breathe, smell’), *anþan- (Old English anda (m.), OHG anta (m.) ‘envy; zeal,’ Old Norse andi (m.) ‘breath, wind, spirit’), *anþjan (Old English ēδian ‘breathe, smell’). (Other nominal derivatives with the same range of meaning are *h_aenh₁-mo- [: Greek ánemos] (m.) ‘wind,’ Latin animus ‘seat of feeling; character; seat of the will, intention,’ anima ‘breath, wind, air; vital principle,’ Old Frisian omma (< *anma) ‘breath,’ possibly Sanskrit ánila- (n.) ‘breath, wind’ (if from *ánima-)] and *h_aenh₁-tlo- [: Old Irish anál ‘breath’].) A PIE *h_aen(h₁)tmen- would have regularly given PTch *āni̯ti̯mi̯än- > *āñcmän- (nom. sg. *āñcme) which in both TchA and B gave *āñm- by loss of the medial consonant in the three consonant cluster. (In TchA the regular loss of the word final -e of the nom. sg. produced āñcäm with an anaptyctic vowel and no loss of -c-.) This etymology goes back in embryo to Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze (1931:138), in the connection of āñcäm and āñm-, and to VW (1941:12), in its Indo-European connections (he reconstructs *antemo-). VW (1976:163-164) wrongly separates āñcäm, āñm-, and āym-. +See also āñme¹, anāsk-, añmālale, añmālake, añiye, onolme, and ynāñm. +

+ + +
+

+āte +See ate. +

+ + +
+

+āto* +(n.) +‘± wrist’ (?)
+[/-, -, atāne/] +///rene atānene yamaṣare-ne pelene ṣalāre-ne ‘they put ... on his wrists and threw him into prison’ (H-149.40a5 [Thomas, 1979:12, fn. 29]), watkāltsa täne atānesa wärñai śänmāṃnmāsa kektseñe śeśänmusa ‘different [is the case of] the body bound with bonds on the wrists, etc.’ (PK-12I-b6 [Thomas, 1979:12]). +‣Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985:22) takes this word to mean something like ‘fetters.’ +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+ātmaṃttse +(adv.) +‘± for oneself’ (?)
+mā ṣpä ātmaṃttse yāmu palsko = BHS na ca tatkara[ṇaṃ] mana (202b1). +∎This certainly looks to be a Tocharian derivative of BHS ātman- ‘soul, inner being.’ +

+ + +
+

+ātmaguptaphal +(n.) +‘fruit of the Mucuna prurita Hook.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[ātmaguptaphal, -, -//] +(P-1a3). +∎From BHS ātmaguptaphala-. +

+ + +
+

+ātmagupti +(n.) +‘Mucuna prurita Hook.’ or ‘Mucuna pruriens Bak.’
+[ātmagupti, -, -//] +‣For the proper restoration, see Maue, 1990. +∎From BHS ātmagupta-. +

+ + +
+

+ātmadṛṣṭi* +(n.) +‘± self-insight’
+[-, -, ātmadṛṣṭi//] +(364a6). +∎From BHS *ātma-dṛṣṭi- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+ātmapāvabhet* +(n.) +‘± rupture of the body’
+[-, -, ātmapāvabhet] +(181a3). +∎From BHS *ātmabhāva-bheda- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Ātmavārg* +(n.) +‘Ātmavarga’ [chapter of a Buddhist work]
+[-, -, Ātmavārg//] +(S-5b5). +

+ + +
+

+ātya- +See atiya-. +

+ + +
+

+āttsi* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, āttsi//] +/// tärkau wat āttsimpa (A-2b7). +See also atsiñe? +

+ + +
+

+āttsaik +See attsaik. +

+ + +
+

+ādañc* +(nf.) +‘± bite, wound caused by biting (or weapon)’
+[-, -, ādāñc] +aräñcacu epreta Mārä[nts]=ādañc mālatsai ‘O courageous and resolute one, thou has destroyed Māra's drunken bite’ (241a2/3 [cf. Isebaert, 1977:383]). +∎From BHS ādaṃśa- (Isebaert, 1977:383). +

+ + +
+

+ādhyātmike* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘what precedes from the self or soul’
+[//ādhyātmiki, -, -] +(182a2). +∎From BHS ādhyātmika-. +

+ + +
+

+Ānande +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Ānanda’ (PN)
+[Ānande, -, Ānanadeṃ (voc. Ānanda)//] +(23b3). +

+ + +
+

+ānāpānasmṛti +(n.) +‘mindfulness of breathing’
+[ānāpānasmṛti, -, -//] +(41a5). +∎From BHS ānāpānasmṛti-. +

+ + +
+

+ānaiśai +See anaiśai. +

+ + +
+

+ānte +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘surface,’ (b) ‘forehead’
+[ānte, -, ānte//] +(a) sū rano ṣäp ipreräntse ānte snai tärkarwa astare klautka ‘and also the surface of the sky turned cloudless and pure’ (350a4), śwālyai [pai]yyeññe mokocintse āntene tuciyai tanākkai lkāṣṣäṃ ‘he sees a yellow spot on the surface of the right big toe’ (580b2); +
+(b) pärwān=epinkt= ānte[ne] ‘on the forehead between the brows’ (9b3). +∎TchA ānt and B ānte reflect PTch *ānte from PIE *h₂ento-, from *h₂ent- ‘front, forehead’ [: Hittite hant- ‘face,’ Greek eisánta ‘right opposite’ (< pre-Greek eis + *antṃ), antí ‘in front of, opposite,’ Sanskrit anti ‘in front of, opposite,’ Old Irish étan ‘forehead’ (< *h₂entono-), etc. (P:48-50; MA:82)] (Couvreur, 1949:34; VW:163). The Tocharian word is most closely allied with Sanskrit ánta- ‘end, limit.’ +

+ + +
+

+āntpi +See antapi. +

+ + +
+

+āntse +(nm.) +(a) ‘shoulder,’ (b) ‘element,’ (c) ‘bough [of a tree]’
+[āntse, āntsentse, āntse/āntsne ~ antsane, -, āntsne ~ antsane/āntsi, antseṃts, āntseṃ] +(a) [ā]ntsesa watsālai premane war āṣtsiś ‘carrying the watsālai on [his] shoulder to fetch water’ (91a1), sononaṃts no aṃtsanemeṃ litau aṃśuk ‘the aṃśuka-garment [has] slipped off the shoulders of some [of them]’ (H-149-ADD.13b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:7]), ātse = BHS -aṃsa- (Y-1a6); +
+(b) cai āntsi päst yelṣalyi ‘the elements [are] to be investigated’ (152a5), āntsentse = BHS -skandhasya (156a6); +
+(c) laitki atsi karakna ‘vines, boughs, and branches’ (554a4). + -- antseṣṣe ‘prtng to the shoulder or to an element’ (S-6a1). +∎TchA es and B āntse reflect PTch *ān(t)se from PIE *h_1/4ōm(e)so- ‘shoulder’ [: Sanskrit áṃsa- (m.), Armenian us, Greek õmo- (m.) (< *h_1/4ōmso-), Latin umerus (< *h_1/4omeso-), Gothic ams, all ‘shoulder,’ and Icelandic áss ‘mountain-ridge,’ Hittite an(as)sa ‘a part of the back’ (P:778; MA:515-516)] (Schrader/Nehring, 1917:636, VW:182). Taken together these reflect a PIE *h_1/4om(e)so- or *h_1/4ōm(e)so-. Hilmarsson (1989a:127-128) takes a somewhat different tack and suggests a PIE *h₄ems-o- as the antecedent of the Tocharian words while the Greek, Armenian, and Latin ones would reflect *h₄oms-o- (Hittite, Sanskrit, and Germanic are indeterminate). These would be two different thematicizations of an underlying s-stem. It should be noted that under Hilmarsson's proposal the Greek form would still be problematical (why would we not have *oumó-?). +

+ + +
+

+āp* +(nf.) +‘water; river’
+[-, -, āp//-, -, āpäṃ] +āp saṃsā[rṣṣai no] sū kā swāsaṃ ‘why does he rain then the water of saṃsāra?’ (140b4), [śt]w[āra] a[päṃ] = BHS catasro hi mahānadyaḥ (H-149.242b1 [Couvreur, 1966:169]). +∎AB āp reflect PTch *āp from PIE *h₂ēp- ~ h₂ep-) ‘water, river’ [: Sanskrit āp- (f.) ‘water’ (nom. pl. āpaḥ, acc. pl. apáḥ), dvīpá- ‘island, sandbank in river’ (< *dwi-h₂p-ó-), Avestan āfš ‘water,’ Greek Āpía ‘Peloponnesus,’ Old Prussian ape ‘water,’ apus ‘spring,’ Lithuanian ùpė ‘water’ (with difficult u-) (P:51-52; MA:636)] (VW:166). It certainly seems reasonable to add here Hittite hāpa- ‘to the river’ and Palaic hāpnas ‘river’ but the single writing of the obstruent would appear to demand a pre-Anatolian *h₂eb- rather than *h₂ep-. Hamp has related the Anatolian words for ‘river’ to *h₂ep- by deriving them from *h₂ep-h₃on- ‘having the water(s).’ +

+ + +
+

+āpadāṃ* +(n.) +‘arrival’ (?)
+[-, -, āpadāṃ//] +(365a1). +∎If from BHS āpādana-. +

+ + +
+

+āppo* +(n.) +‘father’
+[-, āppantse, āppai (voc. āppa)//] +[we]ṣṣäṃ āppa ate yāmtsi päkn[a]star-ñ ‘[the boy] speaks: father, dost thou intend to send me away?’ (83a5), weṣṣäṃ-neścä ṣarya ammakki poññ āppai mā ñiś cempaṃts rakṣatsents aiṣṣäṃ ‘[the boy] speaks to her: dear mother, speak to father; he is giving me to these rakṣas’ (85a2). +‣One should compare the TchA āp in A-256a3/4 (āpas pācräśśi śaśmunt slyi cam mar katkat ‘that rule [which is] come from fathers and forefathers [or should it be ‘fathers (= ‘ancestors’) and fathers’?] do not neglect!’). In TchB āppo is clearly attested as ‘father’ rather than ‘forefather’ or the like. Thomas (1988) equates A āp with B āwe, q.v. but phonologically much more natural is the equation with āppo. +∎TchA āp and B āppo reflect PTch *āppo whose closest ally would be Greek áppha ‘dad,’ áppa, apphûs, etc. In both Greek and Tocharian we have affectionate, "nursery," terms (VW:166, Frisk, 1960:137). +See also appake. +

+ + +
+

+ām* +(a) (n.); (b) (adv.) [frozen acc. sg.] +(a) ‘silence’; (b) ‘quietly, still’
+[-, -, ām//] +(a) /// [kumu]tänta āmtsa wtsā-ne [lege: wsā-ne] ‘she gave him the white lotus in silence’ (366b4); +
+(b) twe pitka wes ām lamam ‘command thou [that] we sit silently’ (H-149.X.5b4/5 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), naksentr=ām aṣṣeñcai ‘they reproach one silently sitting’ [= BHS nindanti tūṣṇīm āsīnam] (U-18a1). +∎Etymology unknown. Not (with VW:622) a borrowing from Middle Iranian *hama- ~ *hāma- ‘the same, similar.’ +

+ + +
+

+āmapi* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, āmapi//] +klyiye ṣamānentse asāṃ nātkaṃ āmapi kontsaisa wat mant tsā/// ‘[if] a woman should nudge a monk on [his] seat with a āmapi or a kontsa, so ...’ (325a1). +‣Not a misspelling for āntpi ‘both’ as is often supposed, but otherwise mysterious. +

+ + +
+

+āmaś +See amāc. +

+ + +
+

+āmāskai +See amāskai. +

+ + +
+

+āmiṣ* +(n.) +‘(raw) flesh’
+[-, -, āmiṣ//] +[ā]miṣämpa [mā tr]īwaṣälle ‘[it is] with raw flesh not to be mixed’ (336a5). +∎From BHS āmiṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+āmok +See amok. +

+ + +
+

+āmp- +(vi.) +‘rot’
+PP /āmpā-/ +[k]e[kts]eñän stastaukkauwa āmpauwa spärkauw=ere ‘bodies, bloated, rotten, and deprived of color’ (9b7=10a3). +∎Probably a borrowing from Middle Iranian *hampu- ‘rot, fester’ [: Khotanese hambūtä- ‘rotted, festering,’ Zoroastrian Pahlevi hambūsītan, Modern Persian ambūsīdan ‘to rot, fester’]. Not with VW who suggests (162) that we have ām- the intensive prefix (but forms with ā- should occur only by ā-umlaut when an -ā- follows in the next syllable, see s.v. e(n)-) + PIE *puh_x- ‘rot’ (cf. P:848-849). +See also ampoño. +

+ + +
+

+āmpär¹ +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘limb, member’
+[āmpär (Thomas, 1985:122), -, -//-, -, amparwa] +t[oṃ] amp[ar]w=[ā]y[or ñas]k[au] ‘I will seek the limbs [as] a gift’ (AMB-b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. Isebaert (1977[79]:383-384) suggests a starting point in a putative PIE *h_aer-mṛ, a regular nominal derivative of *h_aer- ‘be fitted to, fix.’ This *h_aermṛ was made into an u-stem in pre-Tocharian, as is common with old neuter r-stems, giving *ārmäru, whence *āmäru with dissimilatory loss > *āmru > *āmpru > āmpär. This suggestion seems more plausible than his later one (1980, apud Thomas, 1985:122) that we relate the Tocharian word to Latin aptus through the assumption of a nasalized variant *eh_x-m-p- or the like. +

+ + +
+

+āmpär² +(n.) +‘mango’ (Mangifer indica Linn.), only attested in the compound ampar-stanātstse* ‘provided with mango trees’
+ampar-stanācce vaideh śleye guṇe co ‘in the mountain cave [of] Vaideha, covered with mango-trees’ (294a9). +∎From BHS āmra-. +

+ + +
+

+āmpäl +(n.) +‘acid’ only in the compound āmpäl-śuke ‘acid-tasting’
+āmpäl-śuke salyiṃ ṣpä malkwermpa eweta ‘an acid taste or salt fights with milk’ (ST-a6/b1). +∎From BHS amla-. +

+ + +
+

+āy ~ āyo +(nnt.) +‘bone’
+[āy ~ āyo, -, āy ~ āya//-, astāṃts, āsta] +āst=āstāntso s[ai]m lkāṣṣäṃtarne täṅtsi /// ‘the bones and the refuge of bones, even unto the skull’ (10b7), /// yetse ṣñaur=āsta ‘skin, sinews and bones’ (Dd5/3.4), tsirauwñeṣṣe kauṣn āya ompolskoṣṣe mrestiwe pakṣäṃ ysomo ‘it destroys the bone of energy and cooks [it] together with the marrow of mediation’ (S-4b1), onkolmaññe āy ‘elephant bone’ = ‘tusk’? (W-20b3). + -- ayāṣṣe ‘prtng to bone’: se ṣamāne ayāṣṣe kemeṣṣe sucīkar yamastär ‘whatever monk makes for himself a needlecase of bone or teeth [scil. ivory]’ (H-149.X.3b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]); +
+astāṣṣe ‘prtng to bone(s)’: astāṣṣi meski ‘the joints of [his] bones’ (5b1), rīye no astāṣṣi poṣī/// = BHS nagaram asthiprākāram (299b3). +∎Reviewing the data of Pokorny (783) and Hamp (1984), it seems that in PIE the simplest form of ‘bone’ was an acrostatic neuter *h₂óst ~ h₂ést-, found directly in Avestan (cf. gen. sg. astō, nom.-acc. pl. asti) and Latin (nom.-acc. sg. oss [< *ost]). Slightly disguised it appears in Cuneiform Luvian hassa ‘bone’ (nom/acc.) which must be has-sa with an added particle (cf. the abl/inst. hasati. This has is PIE *h₂ost with the expected simplification of the final consonant cluster and the subsequent extension of the neofinal -s to the rest of the paradigm (so Melchert, p.c.). Indirectly *h₂ost appears in Armenian oskr ‘bone’ (< *h₂ost-wṛ), in Avestan as-ča ‘shinbone’ (< *h₂e/ost-ḱo-), and in Greek osphús ‘hip’ (< *h₂ost-bhu-) (P:783; MA:77). +
+The athematic stem could be extended by *-i (still neuter): in Hittite hastāi (< "collective" *h₂ostōi) ‘bone’ (gen. sg. hastiyas), and its derivative histā ‘bone-’ also ‘mortuary, ossuary’ (< *h₂ēstoyo- [Hoffmann apud Melchert, 1984:111, though Puhvel, 1991:321-323, considers the Hittite -i- to be anaptyctic in origin and reconstructs *h₂stoyo-]), Greek ostéon ‘bone’ (< *h₂osteyo-), in Avestan asti-aojah- ‘bone-strength,’ and probably the Sanskrit nom.-acc. sg. ásthi ‘bone’ (if from *h₂ósti rather than the old nom.-acc. pl. *h₂ósth_a). We also find the athematic noun extended by *-n- (perhaps originally only in the oblique cases): the Sanskrit oblique stem asthn-, Middle Welsh eis ‘ribs’ (< the "collective" *h₂estōn; this formulation and certain others given here are taken from Nussbaum, 1986), Old Irish asnae ‘rib’ (< *h₂estniyo-), and Greek ostakós ~ astakós ‘lobster’ (< *h₂e/ostṅkó-). TchB āśce ‘head,’ q.v., might be from either *h₂estēis or *h₂estēn). [Secondarily we have u-stems in Welsh asseu ‘bone’ (presumably *h₂est- + the singulative -eu) and in Latin ossua ‘bones.’ In Greek we have, perhaps, traces of an r-stem in óstrakon ‘shell, pot, sherd’ and astrágalos ‘vertebra, ball of ankle joint, knucklebone.’] +
+If we assume that pre-Tocharian started out with a nom.-acc. sg. *h₂ést, pl. h₂ést(e)h_a, with e-grade generalized, then by regular loss of final obstruents, we would expect in PTch *ā, pl. āstā. The plural remains essentially unchanged in TchB āsta. (There is no reason to see in āsta a borrowing from Khotanese as does VW:624.) The singular *ā, perhaps felt by PTch speakers as "overly short," was extended in some way. Perhaps, if the final obstruents were lost early enough, it was extended by the same PIE *-yo- seen so commonly in body-part terms, e.g. Sanskrit āsya- (nt.) beside ās- ‘mouth’ or Old Irish cride ‘heart’ from *ḱṛdyo-. Such an explanation might most easily explain the TchB by-form, āyā- (as if from PIE *-yeh_a-?). Stalmaszczyk and Witczak (1990:40-1) start, unnecessarily I think, from PIE *as in the singular (which became Pre-Tch *āh in their opinion which, in turn, gave more or less regularly āy) and *ast- in the plural. +
+Not with Hilmarsson (1991b:146-149) who starts from a PIE *h_aeid-i (pl. *h_aeid-i(e)h_a) ‘swelling, bulging’ [: Armenian aytnum ‘I swell,’ Greek oidéō ‘I swell, bulge,’ Latin aemidus ‘swollen,’ OHG ait ‘boil, hard inflamed suppurating tumor,’ Old Norse eitill ‘lymph gland; knot in wood,’ or particularly in Armenian ayt ‘cheek’ (< *h_aeidi)] nor with VW (172-173) who sees in AB āy a cognate of Sanskrit āyu- ‘vital strength’ *āyu- must reflect PIE *h_aoyu- which would have given Tocharian *oy). +

+ + +
+

+āyataṃ* +(n.) +‘organs and objects of the senses; stage of ecstasy or trance [four in number]’
+[//āyatan(än)ta, āyatan(än)taṃts, āyatan(än)ta] +(181b3). +∎From BHS āyatana-. +

+ + +
+

+āyatanadravye* +(n.) +‘± object of the āyatana’ (?)
+[//āyatanadravyi, -, -] +(193b4). +∎If from BHS *āyatana-dravya- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+āyar* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, āyar//] +ton āyarsa śwātsi yoktsi eneṃ taṣalle (M-3b2). +∎A misspelling of āyor? +

+ + +
+

+āyor +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘gift, giving’
+[āyor, āyorntse, āyor//-, -, āyornta] +āyor = BHS dāna (23a2/3), mā nesn āyor mā ra telki ‘there is neither gift nor sacrifice’ (23b4), palsko no yyairu [sic] ailñene āyor ‘a spirit practiced in the giving of a gift’ (K-5b6). + -- āyorṣṣe ‘prtng to a gift’ (274b4); +
+āyorntaṣṣe ‘prtng to gifts’ (AMB-b5); +
+āyor-ailyñe ‘gift-giving’: āyor-ailñe = BHS dāna (23b7). +∎A nominal derivative of the preterite participle stem of ai- ‘give,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ār- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘cease, come to an end’; K ‘renounce, forsake, leave behind, give up, abandon’
+G Ps. IV /oro-/ [MP -, -, orotär//]; Ko. V /ārā-/ [A -, -, āraṃ// -, -, āraṃ; AOpt. -, -, āroy// -, -, aroṃ; Inf. āratsi]; Pt. Ib /ārā-/ [A -, -, āra//-, -, arāre]; +
+K Ps. VIII /ārs^'ä/_e-/ [A ārsau, ārṣt, ārṣäṃ// -, -, ārseṃ; AImpf. -, ārṣit, -//; MPPart. arsemane]; Ko. I /or- ~ ār-/ [A //-, -, oräṃ; AOpt. -, - āri//; Inf. ārtsi]; Pt. III /or(sā)- ~ ār-/ [A orwa, orasta, orsa// -, -, arar] +eṃṣketse āratsiśco yātatsiś astarñeśṣeko ‘[one should trust in] the lasting cessation and the ability to practice purity for ever’ (30a2/3), tumeṃ no pest yāmor śaul ṣpä aran-me ‘then, however, their deed and life will cease’ (K-7a5); tanāpatentse kakoṣṣe śwer meñi päs arāre ‘the four months of the patron's invitation have come to an end’ (331b5); [kleśa]nmaṣṣi lwāsa cwi maim pälskone skwaññenträ mā arsen-ne ‘the kleśa-animals have good fortune in judgment and thought and do not forsake him’ (11b5); saim-wasta kā twe ñäś ñke ārtsi päknāstar ‘O Refuge, why dost thou intend to forsake me’ (45a1), śaul ka oräñ-c tā kektseño pw alecci cai tākañ-co ‘scarcely will life leave thy body and all will be strange to thee’ (46a8); [snai-yk]orñe manta skiyo ra orsa-c ‘like [thy] shadow diligence has never left thee’ [so K. T. Schmidt, 1994:273] (243a2); arar-c po ṣam[ā]n[i] ‘all monks abandoned thee’ (45a1). +‣Though usually taken to be two synonymous roots, ār- and or-, the or-forms occur only in the Class I subjunctive and Class III preterites where ablaut of roots with -ä-, -i-, or -u- is normal. On the basis of such alternations as yop- ~ yap- (< /yäp-/), TchB speakers have created a new strong grade or- (in the subjunctive and preterite singular) and relegated inherited ār- to those forms where a weak grade is expected (elsewhere in the subjunctive/optative). Traces of the same new strong grade in -o- are to be found with kau- ‘kill’ as well. The third singular preterite ora usually cited probably does not belong here. The one occurrence at 42a7 (as read by Sieg): ysomo sankantse ra reki mā=ṅsate samm ora ñy enäṣlyñe ‘he has not grasped the word of the community altogether; likewise he has forsaken my teaching,’ should be read (K. T. Schmidt, 1994:273): ysomo sankantse ra reki mā=ṅsate sam m(ā) ra ñy enäṣlyñe ‘he has not grasped the word of the community altogether; likewise [he has] not [grasped] my teaching.’ + -- āralñe ‘± cessation’ (183b4, PK-NS-414a3 [Couvreur, 1966: 170]). +∎AB ār- reflects PTch *ār- but further connections are a bit murky. It is generally assumed that this word must be, in some way, related to the widespread PIE *h₁e/or- ‘move, stir, rise up’ (the Hittite cognates would seem to assure a reconstruction *h₁or-, since an initial *h₃- persists as Anatolian h-) [: Sanskrit íyarti ‘sets in motion,’ ṛṇóti ~ ṛṇváti ‘rises, moves’ (intr.), Avestan ar- ‘sets in motion,’ Armenian y-aṙnem ‘rise, stand’ (intr.), Greek órnūmi ‘urge on, incite; make to arise, call forth,’ Latin orior ‘rise, stand up, arise,’ Hittite arāi ‘rises,’ ari ‘arrives, reaches,’ artari ‘stands up,’ arnumi ‘sets in motion,’ etc. (P:326ff.)] (Smith, 1910:8, Pedersen, 1941:183, VW:166-7). The undoubted descendant of PIE *h₁or- is TchB er- (A ar-) ‘evoke, produce.’ It is noteworthy that the causative (i.e. transitive) forms of ār- match those of er- (which is only transitive) perfectly: a se/o-present and a root subjunctive (whether thematic or athematic cannot be told). To account for the phonology and semantics we might assume an old compound here, i.e. semantically rather colorless Tocharian ā- ‘near, down, away’ + PIE *h₁or-. Jasanoff (1978:39), while not precisely accounting for the phono-logical equation, does account for the semantics by assuming a a progression ‘rise’ > ‘stand’ > ‘stop’ (i.e. ‘come to a standstill’) > ‘cease,’ cogently comparing German aufhören or Hittite karp- which in the middle means both ‘finish’ and ‘rise.’ (We might also mention Hittite arāi- ‘stop, bring to a halt’ built from this same root. Here the semantic shift has presumably occurred in a hippological context: ‘raise’ > ‘pull up’ > ‘halt’ [Puhvel, 1984: 16-17].) +See also ārsk- and, a bit more distantly, er-. +

+ + +
+

+āraṇyāyataṃ* +(n.) +‘± wilderness home, hermitage’ (?)
+[-, -, āraṇyāyataṃ//] +āraṇyāyataṃne nesalñeścä ayāto mäsketrä (561a2). +∎If from BHS āraṇya-āyatana- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+āruṇāvatiṣṣe* +See aruṇāvati. +

+ + +
+

+ārūpyadhātu* +(n.) +‘state of existence of formlessness’
+[-, -, ārūpyadhātu//] +(156a3). +∎From BHS ārūpya-dhātu-. +See also ārupyäṣṣe*. +

+ + +
+

+ārupyäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to formlessness’
+[m:// -, -, ārupyäṣṣeṃ] +(40b3). +∎A calque on BHS ārūpya-. +See also ārūpyadhātu*. +

+ + +
+

+āre +(n.) +‘plow’
+[āre, -, āre//] +inte no ynemane snai prayok kenantse āre māntatär-ne [] or kärweñ tättālñe - - [ana]bhiprāysa āre māntatär-ne anāpatti ste (331a1/2). +∎TchB āre is a nominal derivative of PIE *h₂erh₃- ‘plow’ [: Greek aróō (< *h₂erh₃ye/o-), Latin arāre, Middle Irish airim, Gothic arjan, Lithuanian ariù, OCS orjǫ, all ‘plow’ (P:62-63), to which we should add Hittite harra- ‘crush, smash’ (< *h₂erh₃e/o-) and hars- ‘harrow’ (< *h₂erh₃se/o-)] (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:3; VW:167). B āre is (as if) from PIE *h₂erh₃-o- or *h₂erh₃-es-; it is notable in lacking the usual instrumental suffix *-tro- (cf. Greek árotron, Latin arātrum, etc.). TchA āre ‘plow’ must be a borrowing from B. +

+ + +
+

+ārk- +(vt.) +‘be obliged to’ [impersonal]
+Ps. V /ārkā-/ [A -, -, ārkaṃ//] +tanāpate ṣamāneṃ śwātsiś kākatär tompok weṃne aśari ñiś ṣesketstse [ne]sau śka yatsi arka-ñ mā ṣ campau ‘[if] a benefactor should invite a monk to eat, the latter shall say [to] him: acarya, I am alone and I am obliged to go and I cannot [stay and eat]’ (331b2), ///va arkaṃ yopu nauṣ rī[ne] /// ‘... it is necessary [that] I enter earlier into the city’ (584a3). +∎Possibly from PIE *h₂erk- ‘hold, contain’ [: Armenian argelum ‘restrain, hold back’ (denominative to argel ‘obstacle’), Greek arkéō ‘ward off, defend; assist; achieve; suffice’ (denominative to árkos (nt.) ‘defence’), Latin arceō ‘shut in; keep at a distance, prevent,’ arca ‘chest, container,’ Hittite hark- ‘hold, have,’ etc. (P:65-66; MA:270)]. The semantic develop-ment would be like that of English have to (= ‘must’). In any case, not with Meillet and Lévi (1911:458-9; also VW:621-622) a borrowing from Sanskrit arghati. +See also ārc- and perhaps arkiye and ark_uye. +

+ + +
+

+ārkwi +(adj.) +‘white’
+[m: ārkwi, -, -//-, -, arkwinäṃ] [f: arkwañña, -, arkwaññai//arkwina, -, -] +/// āst=arkwina ‘white bones’ (28b3), tseñān=arkwina meñ[äṃ] ‘blue and white moons’ (73a4), /// [yaik]ormeṃ arkwīna pīrat ṣa[māni] [arkwīna = BHS śuklāṃ] (299a4), se laiko ārkwi yamaṣäṃ ‘this bath makes [one] white’ (W-11a5). +∎TchA ārki and B ārkwi reflect PTch *ārkw(ä)i (for the relationship of -k- vs. -kw- one should compare A kip and B kwipe ‘shame’), a derivative of PIE *h₂erǵ- ‘bright, white.’ This root always appears suffixed, inter alia, by -i [: Hittite harkis ‘white,’ and further suffixed or compounded in Greek argikéraunos ‘with bright, vivid lightning,’ árgillos ~ árgīlos (< *arginlo-?) ‘white clay, potter's earth,’ arginóeis ‘bright-shining, white,’ etc.], -ro- [: Greek argós (< *argrós) ‘white; swift,’ Sanskrit ṛjrá- ‘brilliant’], or -u [always further suffixed, as in Greek árguros (m.) ‘silver,’ Sanskrit árjuna- ‘light, white’]. We also find *-ṇt-o- in a derivative early specialized in the meaning ‘silver,’ *h₂(e)rǵṇto- (nt.) [: with full-grade in Latin argentum, Yezdi āl-ī, Khotanese āljsata, zero-grade in Avestan ərəzatəm, Ossetic ärzät ‘bronze,’ indeterminate as to grade Old Persian ardata, Old Irish airget, and Middle Welsh ariant, and perhaps in Armenian arcat` (if -at` is by contamination with erkat` ‘iron’) (P:64; MA:518)] (Mallory and Huld, 1984). PTch *ārkwi must reflect in some fashion PIE *h₂erǵ-u(i)-n-. It appears that PIE *-u- and *-wi- normally fall together after a velar and before another consonant. We have -KwäCC- but -KwiCV- for both. Starting from *h₂erǵ-u-i-n- makes it easier to account for masculine accusative singular (extended also to the nominative) ārkwi, if from *h₂erǵuyenṃ (the alternative *h₂erǵwenṃ should have given *ārś). Likewise *h₂erǵ-u-i-n- makes it easier to account for the plural forms seen in TchA, m. nom. ārkyañc, f. nom./acc. ārkyant. They would be from a *h₂erǵu-yon-t-. This etymology goes back in embryo to Meillet and Lévi (1911:149) (see also VW:167). +See also arkwiññe, arkwaññaṣṣe, arśakärśa, and ñkante. +

+ + +
+

+ārc- +(vt.) +‘be obliged to’
+Ps. XII /ārcäññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, arcantär//]; Ipv. V /porcäññā-/ MPSg. porcaññar]; PP (?) /ārcu-/ +wrotse walo arccaṃtär ce w[ä]nta[r]e po āksi k[_us]e ṣarm tane kestaṣṣe ce laklesa [prā]k[r]e ṣeyeṃ memiyoṣ [b1] sū w[i]kā-me (PK-AS-17J-a6ff. [Pinault, 1991b]), k_use cau nāktsi arcanträ = BHS kas taṃ ninditam arhati (U-18b1); ṣpakk anaiśai epiyac kalatsi porcaññar cwi Araṇemiñ lānte krent yamalñe ‘remember clearly the good deed of this King A.!’ (77a4); /// [a]rcos ākṣa (LP-23a3), /// meṃne [] wine [] arcoṣ /// (LP-69a2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Since it apparently is identical in meaning to ārk-, q.v., it is tempting to see them as etymologically related as well. One could make such an equation if the attested ārc- were from *ārś- with ‘hardening’ of the continuant to an affricate after -r-. However, the cluster -rś- seems to have been preserved unchanged, e.g. kärś- (< kärk-) ‘hack up.’ Since -äññ- commonly denotes an old denominative verb perhaps we have an old *h_aertu-en-ye/o- ‘be fitting,’ derived from the same *h_aertu- ‘that which fits together’ that underlies ārtt- ‘love, praise, find fitting’ and ārtte, qq.v. Semantically we would have *‘it is fitting to’ > ‘one is obliged to.’ In any case, not (with VW:621-622) a borrowing from Sanskrit arjati. This is not the type of word that one expects to be borrowed and, moreover, such a theory does not account for the stem formation. +See also possibly ārk- or ārtt-. +

+ + +
+

+Ārtär* +(n.) +‘Ārdrā’ [the fourth or sixth lunar mansion]
+[-, -, Ārtär//] +(M-1b6). +∎From BHS ārdrā-. +

+ + +
+

+ārte +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘±(raised) aqueduct, (raised) feeder canal’ (?) or ‘river branch’ (?)
+[ārte, -, -//] +omotruññaiṣṣe yateññe ckeṣṣe ārte sim ... oṣṣalemeṃ armokiññe ckeṣṣe ārte sim orotsai newiyai täṅtsi ‘southward the boundary [is] the feeder-canal of the Yāte River ... from the north the boundary [is] the feeder-canal of the Armoki River up to the great canal’ (Otani 19.13/5 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +∎I take the meaning to be ‘(raised) aqueduct, (raised) feeder canal’ rather than Pinault's ‘branch of a river’ because of the possibility of relating it to the Khufi (an Iranian language of the Pamirs) word, wurδ/wūrδ ‘irrigation canal carried across the unevenness of the country on top of a stone causeway’ (the -u- is the regular development of a Proto-Iranian *-a- in Khufi when in a stressed but closed syllable and followed by a (lost) *-a-; the Khufi w- is prothetic as in the phonetically similar wūvd ‘seven’ from Proto-Iranian *hapta. One should also compare Khufi arδān ‘embankment between irrigation canal and field’, arδo^an ‘opening in this embankment for letting water flow into the field’ (the initial a- in the latter two Khufi words is the regular development of PIE *-a- when pretonic and in a closed syllable), which reflect putative Proto-Iranian *árda-, *ardánā-, and *ardána- respectively. TchB ārte is probably just what would expect from an early borrowing from an Iranian *arda-. Given the meaning of the Iranian *arda- it is hard to resist relating it to the PIE *h₂erd- ‘high, lofty’ that otherwise appears in Latin arduus ‘steep, towering, lofty’, Old Irish ard ‘high, great’, Hittite harduppi- ‘± high’ (Puhvel, 1991:203; MA:269), and considering the TchB word a borrowing from Iranian. Relating TchB ārte to *h₂erd- directly is less likely since, in that case, we might expect a TchB **ār(r)e. In any case, the triad of morphologically connected words in Iranian looks to be more original than the apparently isolated TchB word (Adams, 1998). +

+ + +
+

+ārtt- +(vt.) +‘± praise, love, be agreeable to; acknowledge’ [ompostäṃ ārtt- ‘rejoice in’]
+K Ps. IV /ortto-/ [MP -, - orttotär// -, -, orttontär]; Ko. V /ārttā-/ [// -, -, ārttantär//; MPOpt. -, -, ārttoy// ārttoymar, -, ārttoytär//; Ger. ārttale]; Pt. Ib /ārttā-/ [MP arttāmai (?), arttātai, arttāte//-, -, arttānte]; PP /ārttā-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /ārttäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP arttaskemar, -, -// -, arttastär, -; MPPart. arttaskemane] +/// śpālmeṃ tane ārt[o]yträ = BHS śreṣṭhiṃ ihātmano bhujet (308b1); mā cmetsy āñme mantak no [tw]e [śaul a]rttātai ‘not [to thee is] the desire to be born; never hast thou praised life’ (214a4), /// saimne wṣotsy atemai [lege: wṣītsy artamai?] (595b7); kr[e]ntäṃ onolm[eṃ]ts a[r]tt[aṣ] ‘praised by good men’ (562a1), ārttau rano ṣamāne sanka[ṃt]s[e] kauṃ-yaptsi täṅtsi aśiyana enästrä pāyti ‘even if agreeable to the community, [if] a monk instructs nuns until sunset, pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-a2/3 [Pinault, 1984b:376]); tañ ekalymi ñäś cī artaskemar säsweno ‘I [am] in thy power; I acknowledge thee [as] lord’ (44a1), inte yes ... käṣṣiṃ arttastär ṣañ wrat lau tärkanacer ‘if you love the teacher, you will put aside your own vows’ (108a6/7); takarṣk[ñ]etse no āyor ompo[stn=ā]rtaskemane ‘the believer is rejoicing in the gift’ (23b7/8). + -- ārttalñe ‘± pleasure, love’: lkālñesa ārttalñe tälpaṣṣeñca tāka ‘through insight he was bringing forth pleasure’ (107a4), [pä]rw[e]ṣṣe ārtalñe tse[nketär-ne] ‘his first love arises [to him]’ (601b2); +
+ārttar ‘± praising’: [wewe]ñor ārtar wat no ‘what is said or what is praised’ (S-2a6). +∎TchA ārt- and B ārtt- reflect PTch *ārtw-(ā)- ‘love, praise, find fitting,’ a denominative verb to *ārtwe (see ārtte). This *ārtwe is in turn a thematicization of PIE *h_aertu- ‘that which is put together’ from PIE *h_aer- ‘± fit together’ [: Avestan arānte ‘they attach themselves together firmly,’ Armenian aṙnem ‘make,’ Greek ararískō ‘fit together,’ etc. (P:55-56; MA:410)]. PIE *h_aertu- is otherwise to be seen in Greek (Hesychian) artús ‘syntaxis, philía, symbasis; krísis,’ Armenian ard (gen. ardu) ‘arrange-ment,’ Latin artus (gen. artūs) ‘joint (of the body)’ (VW:168, though with differing details). +See ārtte, possibly ārte, and ārwer. +

+ + +
+

+ārtte +only in the compound verb ārtte tärk- ‘overlook, neglect, behave indifferently’
+ñäś tallā_u wnolme pw=āllonkna cärkāw=ārtte wäntarwa ‘I, a suffering being, neglected all other things’ (45a2), triśalñenta po wnolmets ārte tārka [lege: ptārka] upekṣsa sā ste ytāre [lege: ytārye] ‘overlook the misdeeds of all beings! this road is by upekṣa’ (296a2/3), ārte [tarkalñe] = BHS upekṣā (547b1). +∎TchA ārtak (with the reinforcing particle -k) and B ārtte reflect PTch ārtwe ‘± that which is fitting.’ With tärk- we have ‘± leave off that which is fitting’ (see ārtt-). Not with VW (169) a derivative of Tocharian ār- ‘cease, come to an end.’ +See also ārtt-. +

+ + +
+

+ārth +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘meaning, sense’
+[ārth, arthantse, ārth//-, -, arthanma] +arthantse karsalñe ‘knowledge of the meaning’ (183b2), se tränkoṣṣe arth kärsanalle ste ‘this sinful sense is to be recognized’ (330b1). + -- arthanmaṣṣe* ‘prtng to meanings.’ +∎From BHS artha-. +

+ + +
+

+Āryatewe +(n.) +‘Āryadeva’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Āryatewe, Āryatewentse, -//] +(433a23). +

+ + +
+

+Āryamārg +(n.) +‘Āryamarga’ (PN of a Buddhist work)
+[Āryamārg, Āryamārgäntse, Āryamārg//] +(591b4). +

+ + +
+

+Āryawarme +(n.) +‘Āryavarman’ (PN of monastic official)
+[Āryawarme, Ārywarmentse, Āryawarmeṃ//] +(433a19). +

+ + +
+

+Āryaśke +(n.) +‘Āryaśke’ (PN in graffito)
+[Āryaśke, -, -//] +(G-Su18). +

+ + +
+

+Āryottāme +(n.) +‘Āryottama’ (PN in graffito)
+[Āryottame, -, -//] +(G-Qa6.2-3). +

+ + +
+

+ārwa +See or. +

+ + +
+

+ārwer +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘ready’
+[ārwer yām- ‘make ready, prepare’] +waike ārwer y[āmṣi]trä ‘he readied a lie’ (19a4), kartse kekmu srūkalñe ārwer nesau mā prā[sk]au ‘death [is] well arrived; I am ready and do not fear [it]’ (372a4), [śwā]tsi yoktsi ārwer yāmttsi omttsate ‘he began to make ready the food and drink’ (375b1), arwer se ñäke Kanthäke yäkwe ‘now ready [= saddled] [is] the horse K.’ (PK-12H-b2 [Thomas, 1979:47]). +∎TchA ārwar and B ārwer reflect a PTch *ārwer, a derivative of PIE *h_aer- ‘± fit together’ [: Avestan arānte ‘they attach themselves together firmly,’ Armenian aṙnem ‘make,’ Greek ararískō ‘fit together,’ etc. (P:55-56; MA:362)] (VW, 1941:14, 1976:169). Like ykuwer ‘arrival’ from the preterite participle yku ~ ykuweṣ- ‘gone,’ we presumably have a nominal derivative from the preterite participle of a verb that has otherwise disappeared in Tocharian (because of a homonymic clash with ār- ‘cease’?). The existence of the synonymous arwāre (< *arwōro-) suggests an old paradigm with a nom. sg. *-ōr, acc. sg. *-orṃ. +See also arwāre. +

+ + +
+

+ārśe +‘monk’ (?)
+päklyoṣ [sic] lantuññeṣṣu arśe /// (345b5), /// śaumoṣṣ=ārśe to [lege: no] ce /// (572.1a2), [k_uśala]mūläṣṣe arśe /// (624a3). +∎Meaning and etymology uncertain. This TchB word is usually taken to be the equivalent of A ārśi, which occurs in uncertain contexts but once clearly opposed to śrāddhe ‘(lay) believer’ and matching BHS āryāṇāṃ and śrāddhānāṃ ‘monks and lay-believers.’ Thus TchA ārśi is correctly taken to mean to be ‘ordained beggar monk’ (as a noun) and ‘Aryan’ (as an adjective) and to be from a Prakrit descendant (via some Iranian language) of BHS ārya- (cf. VW:623). Not a designation for Tocharian A as has occasionally been supposed. TchA ārśi-ype and ārśi-käntu refer to India (‘Ārya-land’) and Sanskrit (‘Ārya-tongue’) respectively. +

+ + +
+

+ārsk- +(vt.) +‘give up, renounce’
+Ps. IX /ārsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. ārṣṣälle]; Pt. IV /ārṣṣā-/ [A // -, -, arṣṣāre]; PP /ārsku-/ +/// arṣāre śäktālyenta nauṣ ktauwa ‘they gave up on seeds earlier sown’ (244a5). +‣The absence of palatalization in the past participle is surprising and is the reason, no doubt, that it has traditionally been separated, despite the identity of meaning, from the present and preterite given here (and which have traditionally been assigned as a second causative of ār-). + -- ārskormeṃ: śaiṣṣentse wäntre ārskormeṃ ‘having renounced the business of the world’ (TEB-58-24). +∎From PTch ār- ‘cease’ + the originally present forming suffix -sk-. +See further s.v. ār-. +

+ + +
+

+Ārslāṃ +(n.) +‘Ārslan’ (PN)
+(289b5). +∎From the Uyghur word for ‘lion.’ +

+ + +
+

+āl +(adj.) +‘entire, uncastrated’ (?) or ‘adult’ (?)
+[m. āl, -, -//alyi, -, -] +alyi yriṃ ‘uncastrated (?) rams’ [opposed to orotsana awi ‘great ewes’ (?) ‘pregnant ewes’ (?) and some other kind of yriṃ] (PK-LC-I.4 [Pinault, 1997:177]). +∎If the meaning ‘uncastrated’ is correct, then from PIE *h_ael- ‘all, entire’ [: Gothic alls, Old Norse allr, Old English eall, OHG all, all ‘all’ (< Proto-Germanic *alno-), Gothic alamans ‘all people, humanity,’ Old Norse al-fǫδr ‘all-father’ (epithet of Odin) (< Proto-Germanic combining form *alo-), Old Irish (h)uile ‘whole’ (pre-Celtic *olyo-) (cf. P:24-25, MA:64)]. If, as Pinault supposes, the meaning is ‘adult’ than from PIE *h_ael- ‘grow, increase’ [: Old Irish ailid ‘nourishes,’ Latin alere ‘nourish,’ Gothic alan ‘grow,’ Old English alan ‘grow,’ Old Norse ala ‘nourish’; from PIE *h_aelto-: Latin altus ‘high,’ Old English eald ‘old,’ OHG alt ‘old,’ Greek ánaltos ‘insatiable’ (P:26-27; MA:248)]. Nevertheless a PIE *h_ael(i)-, possible ancestral shapes for TchB āl, should be active, i.e., ‘nourishing,’ rather than ‘nourished, grown’ as Pinault's hypothesis would demand. +

+ + +
+

+āl- +(vt.) +‘± keep away, check, restrain’
+Ps. IXa /āläsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, alastär; APart. alaṣṣeñca; Ger. alaṣṣälle]; Ko. I or II /āl(^'ä/_e)-/ [MPOpt. // -, -, alyintär; Inf. āltsi]; PP /ālu-/ +[y]olo[m]eṃ [a]l[asträ] ‘he refrains from evil’ (KVāc-17a3), cimpā täṅwne aläṣṣeñca mā kälpāsträ ‘[someone] like thee, keeping aloof in love, will not be found’ [cf. Hilmarsson, 1991b:167] (245a2); /// w[n]olmeṃ āltsi yolomeṃ ‘to keep beings from evil’ (16a6), ce pi śaiṣṣe [lege: cai piś [ś]aiṣṣe?] ālyinträ ñyātse kwipe rmantär mai ‘these five [births] will keep the world in check and will deflect danger and shame’ (255b7). +∎AB āl- reflect PTch *āl- but extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are unknown. Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:148; also VW:160) suggests a relationship to Greek aléksō ‘ward off, turn aside,’ alalkeîn (reduplicated aorist) ‘ward, keep off’ and Sanskrit rakṣati ‘guard, watch, protect.’ This relationship is impossible unless the Greek and Indic words are ultimately *h_ael-ek- with an élargissement. The putatively underlying *h_ael- with the requisite meaning is perhaps to be seen in Greek aléomai ‘avoid, shun’ (P:27-28; MA:629). The latter is usually grouped with alúō ‘be beside oneself (with fear or anger),’ aláomai ‘wander, roam; be outcast; be perplexed’ but the meaning seems distant. Alternatively this *h₂el- might be, with Hilmarsson (1991b:167-168), ‘enclose’ [: Greek álsos, álma ‘sacred grove, sacred precinct,’ Hittite hāli- ‘fold, corral,’ hīla- ‘courtyard, the sun's halo’ (< *h₂ēlo-, Melchert, 1984:111)]. +

+ + +
+

+ālambaṃ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘basis, ground, reason; object of the senses’
+[ālambaṃ -, ālambaṃ//] +(173a2). + -- ālambaṃtstse ‘having a basis’ (173b1). +∎From BHS ālambana-. +

+ + +
+

+ālāṣmo +See alāṣmo. +

+ + +
+

+āläṃ +(adv.) +‘otherwise, differently’
+aiśmw akn[ā]tsa wat āṃtpi ksa ṣp mā=läṃ mäskentär ‘wise [man] and fool, the two are not distinguishable’ (28b3), pällātär-ne ineśne āläṃ nāki weṣän-ne [sic] ‘he will praise him openly; otherwise he says reproach to him’ (127a6), mäkcwi yāmorntse śaktalye āläṃ ktowä ‘by which deed [is] the seed sown differently?’ (K-2b3). +∎From PIE *h_ael- ‘other’ for which one should see further s.v. allek. The exact formation underlying āläṃ is obscure. +See also alanmeṃ. +

+ + +
+

+ālo +(adv.) +‘otherwise’
+(K-T). +∎From PIE *h_ael- ‘other’ for which one should see further s.v. allek. The exact formation underlying ālo is obscure (a feminine accusative singular *alām used adverbially?). +

+ + +
+

+Ālp +(n.) +‘Ālp’ (PN)
+(289b2). +∎From the Uyghur word for ‘the powerful.’ +

+ + +
+

+ālp- +(vi.) +‘be reflected’
+Ps. VI /ālpnā-/ [A //-, -, alpanaṃ; Ko. V /ālpā-/ [A -, -, ālpaṃ//] +[mä]kte orocce lyamne orkamotsai yaṣine meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña kos ālpaṃ warne entwe eṅtsi tot /// ‘as in the great pool in the dark night as much as the light of the moon and stars will be reflected in the water, then so much ... to take’ (154b2). +∎TchA ālp- ‘stroke lightly’ (only attested once in the middle at A-153b5: /// prutkoti ñäkci war [] tmäṣ Viśākhāṣñi lapā ālpatt ats tmäk śärs täṣṣ oki caṣi āṣā///) and B ālp- would appear to reflect a PTch ālp-. Extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are uncertain. Starting from the TchA meaning, Isebaert (1977) relates this word to the Hittite adjective alpu- ‘smooth, rounded, dull, blunt’ (cf. also alpue(s)- ‘become blunt, lose one's edge’) an exact equivalent of Lithuanian alpùs ‘soft, weak,’ and related to the Lithuanian verb al̃pti ‘faint, swoon,’ alpėti ‘be in a swoon,’ Sanskrit álpa- ‘small.’ He assumes that Lithuanian preserves the oldest reconstructible sense ‘soft, weak’ and that Hittite ‘blunt, polished’ represents a semantic change in the direction carried further in Tocharian ‘stroke lightly; reflect.’ The formal side of the equation is impeccable but the semantic change seems less so. The Hittite seems to show a development ‘weaken, soften [a point]’ > ‘make dull, blunt’ which does not seem to lead in any natural way in the direction of the Tocharian meanings. If the TchB ‘be reflected’ is the more original meaning (and one must admit that the context of TchA ālpat is not as semantically determinative as one might wish) then ālp- might be related to Latin albus ‘white,’ albeō ‘am white,’ Greek alphós ‘white appearance’ (‘white’ in Hesychius), Welsh elfydd (m.) ‘earth, world’ (< Proto-British *albíyo-) and words for ‘swan’ in Germanic and Slavic (P:30; MA:641). The semantic development would then be something on the order of *‘be white, shining’ > ‘be reflected.’ In any case, not with VW (622) a borrowing from some Paleosiberian source. +

+ + +
+

+ālme* +(n.) +‘spring [of water]’
+[-, -, ālme//] +///lyñe arṣāklacce ālmene eṅwe lä/// ‘... a man in a snake-infested pond ...’ (152b2). +∎A derivative of a putative PIE *h_ael- ‘± be wet’ seen otherwise in Lithuanian ãlmės ‘aus dem Körper fliessende Materie, Blutserum, Blutwasser,’ almuõ ‘pus,’ Latvian aluôts ‘source, spring,’ Armenian aɫtiur ~ eɫtiur ‘moist area, slough, swamp,’ Russian olьga ‘morass,’ Latin almus ‘nourishing’, alga ‘seaweed,’ Sanskrit árma- ~ armaká- ‘fountain’, ṛjīṣá- ‘slippery’ (Mayrhofer, 1987:120; cf. P:305, Fraenkel, 1962:8; MA:207, 539). The connection with Sanskrit árma- is exact in both form and meaning. +

+ + +
+

+āl(y)i +See alyiye. +

+ + +
+

+ālyauce* +(pronoun) +‘one another, each other’
+[-, -, ālyauce//] +mā śwoṃ [ā]lyauce ‘they did not eat one another’ (3b1), sā_u plāc=ālyau[ce] ‘that [was] the conversation with one another’ (14b1), mā ṣarsa ālyauce/// ‘not joining the hand [with] another’ (322b7), kāwälyñeṣṣe ka ṣp ñyās tsenketär ālyauce ‘loving desire [for] one another arises’ (590b3). +∎Clearly a derivative of PIE *h_aelyo- (see alyek). So VW:161. Much like with its equivalent in TchA āläm wät we have here a PTch compound *ālye- ‘other’ + *wäte ‘second.’ Since it is a compound, we would expect the stress to fall on the last syllable of the first member of the compound, i.e. ālyé-wäce. The first syllable would be unstressed and thus should appear as a-, rather than as ā-. Perhaps Winter (1991:157) is right in seeing this a three member compound, i.e. *ā- (q.v.) + ālye- + wäce. +See also allek and wate. +

+ + +
+

+āwe* +(n.) +‘grandfather’
+[//āwi, -, -] +śaiṣṣeny=alek yku āwi pācer saile/// (289b3). +‣It should be noticed that Thomas (1988) takes āwi to be a genitive singular and the whole phrase to be a miswriting for *āwi mācer. He cites another source where āwe mācer is to be found. He also equates B āwe with A āp but the latter seems rather to belong with B āppo. Semantically one should compare orotstse-pācer, q.v. +∎From PIE *h₂euh₂o- ‘grandfather’ [: Armenian hav ‘grand-father,’ Latin avus ‘grandfather, ancestor,’ avunculus ‘mother's brother,’ Old Prussian awis ‘uncle,’ Lithuanian avýnas ‘mother's brother,’ OCS *ujь ‘uncle,’ Old Irish áue ‘grandson, nephew,’ Gothic awō ‘grand-mother,’ Welsh ewythr (Proto-Celtic < *awen-tro-) ‘uncle,’ Hittite huhhas ‘grandfather,’ etc. (P:89; MA:237-238)] (Thomas, 1980). +

+ + +
+

+āwiś +See apiś. +

+ + +
+

+āśirvāt* +(n.) +‘benediction’
+[-, -, āśirvāt//] +ysaparsa yey āśirvāt weṣṣi teṃ epinktene sā_u onko[rño] päs pyautka ‘he went near and said a benediction; in the meantime the porridge developed’ (107a3). +∎From BHS āśīrvāda- (so Krause, 1954; not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+āśce +(nf.) +‘head’
+[āśce, -, āśc//aścī, -, āstäṃ] +prāp-mahur āssa tässāte ‘he set the diadem on [his] head’ (109a5), āś papyākoṣ po läklentaṃts ‘a head battered by all sufferings’ (220a5), aṣtsa = BHS -śira- (251a5), mā āś wāwā[lau osne ṣmalle] ‘[one is] not to sit in a house head covered’ (321b2), aṣtsa = BHS murdhani [sic] (545b1), āssa yok ‘hair on the head’ (603b4). +‣The perlative singular is never the expected *āś(c)sa but rather āṣtsa or āssa. + -- aścaṣṣe* ‘prtng to the head’ (W-5a3); +
+aśca-sanāpalle ‘head-salve’ (W-18a4). +∎Etymology uncertain. This word is usually taken to be a derivative of some sort from the widespread family of PIE *h_aeḱ- ‘sharp, edge’ (P:18ff.; MA:237; this explanation goes back to both VW [1941:14-5] and Pedersen [1941:262]). VW's explanation (1976:171) is that we have *h_aeḱst-, with zero-grade of the suffix compared to Greek akostē ‘barley,’ or possibly ‘grain of any kind’ (as the ‘pointy’ grain or the like). He would also compare Lithuanian akštìs ~ akstìs ‘a kind of skewer’ (and we might add ãstinas ‘Stachel, Ochsenstechen, Federstachel,’ OCS ostь (m.) ‘Stachel’), Slovenian õst ‘spike, thorn,’ Russian ost' ‘point, awn,’ Welsh eithin (< *h_aeḱstīno-) ‘gorse’. Without the *-t- we have Greek ákhnē ‘chaff’ (< pre-Greek *ak-s-nā-), ēkēs ‘sharp’ (puriēkēs ‘with fiery points,’ tanuēkēs ‘with long points’), Latin acus (gen. aceris) ‘chaff,’ Gothic ahs (gen. *ahsis) ‘ear [of grain].’ VW sees āśce as the reflex of a PIE *h_aeḱst-en- ‘point, summit’ > ‘head.’ The phonological equation is impeccable but the semantic one less so. All the other derivatives of *h_aeḱ-es- mean ‘point, awn, sharp plant part.’ They do not mean ‘summit.’ It would be better to start from ‘awn’ or ‘ear (of grain)’ as in Russian or Gothic. The same semantic development is to be seen in Cree and Ojibwa (cf. Cree mistikwaŋ, both ‘ear of corn’ and ‘someone's head’ [Pentland, 1977:225]). Admittedly the semantic transfer from ‘ear of corn (i.e. maize)’ to ‘head’ would seem to be a trifle more likely than ‘ear’ (of other grains) to ‘head.’ Alternatively one might see a connection instead with with *h₂óst ~ h₂ést- ‘bone.’ Āśce might be from either *h₂estēis or *h₂estēn (see further s.v. āy ‘bone’). The semantic derivation would have been something on the order of ‘(particular) bone’ > ‘bone (par excellence)’ > ‘skull’ > ‘head.’ +

+ + +
+

+Āśtāwi* +(n.) +‘Āśtāwi’ (PN in graffito)
+[-, Āśtāwintse, -] +(G-Su3). +

+ + +
+

+āśmagupti +(n.) +some medical ingredient
+[āśmagupti, -, -//] +(501a6). +

+ + +
+

+āśrai* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘body’
+[-, -, āśrai//] +klaiññe cau āśrai ‘this feminine body’ (400b2). + -- āśrayṣṣe ‘prtng to the body’ (194b2); +
+āśraytstse* ‘id.’ (194a5). +∎From BHS āśraya-. +

+ + +
+

+āśrayāśrite* +(n.) +‘± objects of the sense-organs’
+[//-, -, āśrayāśriteṃ] +(177b1). +∎From BHS *āśraya-āśrita- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+ās-¹ +(vi./vt.) +G ‘dry out, dry up (intr.), parch’; K ‘dry out, dry up (tr.)’
+G Ps. IV /oso-/ [MP -, -, osotär// -, -, osontär]; Pt. Ib /āsā-/ [A //-, -, asāre]; PP /āsu-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /āsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, āsäṣäṃ; APart. āsäṣṣeñca] +wrotsana ckenta kaumaiño samudtärnta kätkron=epinkte kaunts=osonträ ‘great rivers and pools between deep oceans are dried out by the sun’ (45b7); /// yolmi asāre /// ‘the pools dried up’ (387.1b2); aswa lymine yokaisa ‘lips parched by thirst’ (H-149.14b1 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:4]); olyapotse māka śeśu kor āsäṣṣäṃ ‘eating to much dries out the throat’ (ST-a1), ṣeme stām kleśaṣṣe āsäṣṣeñca po ‘alone drying out the kleśa-tree completely’ (29b2). +∎AB ās- reflect PTch *ās- whose nearest relative is Latin āreō ‘am dry’ and its adjectival derivative āridus ‘dry, arid.’ It is noteworthy that Class III present in Tocharian (TchB oso-, A asa- < *h_aēs-h₁-ó-) is the equivalent of the eh₁-stative seen in Latin ār-ē- (h_aēs-eh₁-). Tocharian shows an old middle formation, Latin an active. More distantly related are Greek ázō ‘dry’ (tr.), áza (f.) ‘dryness, heat,’ Czech and Polish ozd ‘malt-kiln,’ and Czech/Slovak ozditi ‘to dry malt’ (< *azdye/o-). Latin and Tocharian may show a lengthened grade (*h_aēs-eh₁-) while Greek and Slavic show the remnants of a de/o-present (*h_aes-de/o-) (VW, 1941:8, 1976:169; cf. P:68-69; MA:170). The problem, as Melchert points out (p.c.), is that we cannot be sure that a PIE *h_aēs- would have given Latin (and pre-Tocharian) *ās-. Certainly it is likely that a long *-ē- remains uncolored by a preceding laryngeal in Anatolian (cf. Hittite histā- ‘bone-,’ also ‘mortuary shrine, ossuary’ from *h₂ēstoyo-, though Puhvel, 1991:321-323, considers the Hittite -i- to be anaptyctic in origin, the original being *h₂stoyo-). +See also asāre. +

+ + +
+

+ās-² +(vt.) +‘bring, fetch’
+Ps. IXaα /ās-sk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, āṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. II /ās^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. āṣtsi]; Ipv. I /pāsā-/ [Sg. pāsa, Pl. pāsat] +mäkte nauṣ weñām bhavāggärṣṣana kautatsy āṣṣäṃ vajropame [samādhi] ‘as we said earlier: in order to destroy the bhavāgra-kleśas he brings the vajropame-samādhi’ (591a4); [ā]ntsesa watsālai premane war āṣtsi yakne yamaṣäṃ ‘he does [it this] way to fetch water, bearing a watsālai on [his] shoulder’ (91a1); tanāpates kākone tākaṃ wentsi mā rittetär te śka pasāt tam śka pasāt ‘[if] one is in [scil. enjoying] the invitation of benefactors, it is not appropriate to say: bring this and bring that!’ (331b4). +∎Etymology uncertain. It is possible that we have here the locative particle *ā ‘near, on, away,’ q.v., verbalized by *-s- like ²kätk- ‘lower’ is from *kat-sḱe/o-, and most particularly like wäs-, the suppletive preterite of ai- ‘give,’ is from *wi- ‘away’ + the verbalizer *-s-. Also possible is VW's suggestion (624) that we have hear a borrowing from some Iranian source, e.g. Khotanese hayz- ‘drive, conduct, transact, make’ from Proto-Iranian *az- (< PIE *h_aeǵ- [see āk-]). However, as VW acknowledges the Tocharian ā- would seem to require an Iranian form with a lengthened grade, *āz-, for which there seems to be no evidence except in certain derived compounds where the *-āz- is the second member. +

+ + +
+

+āsaṃkhyai +See asaṃkhyai. +

+ + +
+

+āsūre* +See asūre. +

+ + +
+

+āsk- +(vi.) +‘sit, be seated’
+Ps. II /āsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. aṣṣeñca] +naksentr=ām aṣṣeñcai ‘they reproach one silently sitting’ [= BHS nindanti tūṣṇīm āsīnam] (U-18a1). +∎Perhaps related to Greek ēs-, Sanskrit ās-, Hittite es- ~ as- ‘sit’ from PIE *h₁ēs- or possibly *h₁eh₁es- (but not *h₁eh₁s- which would have given Hittite **ess- (cf. P:342-343). Tocharian āsk- might represent PIE *h₁ōs-sḱe/o- with a PIE o-grade (which would be unusual, though not unprecedented; see tresk- and ²nāsk-) or *h₁s-sḱe/o-. It would partly match Hittite eske- the iterative of es- ~ as-. +

+ + +
+

+āsta +See āy. +

+ + +
+

+āstär* +(n.) +‘± bolt, arrow’
+[-, -, āstär//] +āsträ [Māra's weapon, in opposition to tsain, the Buddha's weapon] (PK-NS-30a7 [Couvreur, 1964:246, fn. 55]). +∎From BHS astra-. +

+ + +
+

+āstre +See astare. +

+ + +
+

+āhār* +(n.) +‘food, sustenance’
+[/āhāräñc, -, -/āhāränta, -, -] +(175b5). +∎From BHS āhāra-. +See also anahār. +

+ + +
+

+āhārakṛtyiññe* +(n.) +‘obtaining sustenance’
+[-, -, āhārakṛtyiññe//] +(176b1). +∎ An abstract derived from the BHS āhārakṛtya-. +

+ + +
+

+āhārasūtar* +(n.) +‘± sustenance-sūtra’
+[-, -, āhārasūtar//] +(177a1). +∎From BHS *āhāra-sūtra- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+āhrīkyanavatrāpyä* +(n.) +‘a Buddhist beggar’ (?)
+[-, -, āhrīkyanavatrāpyä//] +(200b5). +∎If from BHS *ahrīky-anapatrāpya- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+ātstse +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘thick, thicketed’; (b) ‘thickness of wits; thicket (?)’
+[m: ātstse, -, ācce//] [f: -, -, ātstsai//-, -, atstsāna] [(noun) -, -, ātstse// atstsenta, -, -] +(a) krentaunasa ācce ‘thick with virtues’ = BHS kalyāṇakalilam (251b6), āśne lupṣalle ātstse matsi mäsketär kartse ‘[it is] to be smeared on the head; thick, beautiful hair appears’ (W-31b3), yops=āttsāna wa[r]ś[ainne] ‘he entered into the thicketed plain’ (338a1); +
+(b) /// smāṃ yāmoṣ ātstse lutaṣṣeñca ‘repeated, driving out thickness [of wits]’ (W-22b2). +∎TchA ātsäts (indeclinable) and B ātstse reflect PTch *āts(ä)tse or *āt(ä)tse but extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are unknown. Not (with VW:172) from ā- the privative prefix (a form which exists only by ā-umlaut when the following vowel is -ā-; see e(n)-) plus *tus- ‘empty.’ +

+ + +
+

+i- +(vi.) +‘go, travel’
+Ps. I /yä-/ [A yam, yat, yaṃ//ynem, yacer, yaneṃ; AImpf., see below; MPPart. ynemane; Ger. yalle, see below]; Ko. I (= Ps.) (Opt. = Impf) [Inf. yatsi]; Imperfect /yei-/ [yaim, yait, yai ~ yey//-, -, yeyeṃ]; Ipv. sg. /päṣ/, pl. /päcisä/; Pt. I/III /mäs-/ [-, masta, masa (~massa)//]; [see also mit-]; PP /yku-/ ‘gone’ (N-ne yku ‘directed towards’) +wnolme nraine yan [yan = BHS upaiti] (16a4), tāsa su yaṃ ñäkcye śaiṣṣeś ‘by it [the divine way] he goes to the divine world’ [yaṃ = BHS gacchati] (23a3), po yaneṃ samudtärśc aiwol ‘they all [scil. streams of water] go directed to the ocean’ (30a8), tumeṃ c[ai] brāhmaṇi tot ike-postäṃ ynemane Araṇemiñ lānte yapoyne kameṃ ‘then these brahmans, going place to place, came into king A.'s kingdom’ (81b2), papātkormeṃ yän = BHS viśreṇayitvā carati (U-25b3); sankrāmiś yatsi omtsate ‘he began to travel to the monastery’ (109b1); tā_u onkorñ[ai] srañciyeṃ tappre kauś yey ‘they boiled the porridge and it went up high’ (107a1); päst paṣ ñy ostameṃ ‘go away from my house!’ (23b6), [tusā]ksa nai yes ñī yaitkorsa pcīso Araṇemiñ lānte ‘go you then by my command to king A.!’ (81a5); Nānda cāla onkorñai Nandābala tāy ṣerśka postäṃ msā-ne ‘N. lifted the porridge and her sister N/bala followed [lit. went after] her’ (107a7), meñe menkine massa [sic] ‘the month went in a lack’ [= ‘the month ended in a deficit’] (433a10); [waiptā]yar ykūsa = BHS viṣṛtā (11a5), totte ykuweṣo = BHS pāragam (30b4). + -- yalle ‘accessible’: mäntrākka yale = BHS evaṃ gantavyaṃ (547b5), [y]t[ā]rye ṣemeskepi yalya ‘a way accessible to a single [person]’ (555a4); +
+yalñe ‘(a) going; journey’: ompostäṃ ... yalñe = BHS anugama- (41b3), päst yalñe = BHS yānaṃ (543a6), yalñene = BHS gate (547b2); +
+yalñetstse* ‘± one taking a journey’ (?): (531b2); +
+yalñeṣṣe* ‘prtng to going’ (109a6); +
+ykuwer* (n.) ‘arrival; departure’ (i.e. ‘movement into or out of’): yñakteṃ ykuwermeṃ = BHS devāṃ gatvā (198a5), maskwa[tstsai] ytāri ykūwermeṃ = BHS viṣamaṃ mārgam āgamya (305a3). +∎TchA i- ‘id.’ and B i- reflect PTch *i- from PIE *h₁ei- ‘go’ whose athematic paradigm was presumably *h₁éimi ‘I go,’ *h₁éiti ‘he goes,’ *h₁imé ‘we go,’ *h₁yénti ‘they go’ (and a singular imperative *h₁i-d^hí) [: Sanskritēmi, ēti, imaḥ, yánti, sg. imperative ihí, Avestan aēiti, yeinti, Greek eîmi ‘will go,’ eîsi, ímen, íāsi, sg. imperative íthi, Latin eō (with a thematic ending), īt, īmus, eunt (with analogical full-grade), Old Lithuanian eîmi, eîti, eimè (with analogical full-grade), Hittite sg. imperative īt, Luvian 3rd. sg. iti, etc. (P:293-294; MA:228)] (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:926, VW:183). TchA yäm, yäṣ (plural: ymäs, yiñc) B (singular) yam, yaṃ reflect a putative PIE *h₁imi, *h₁it(i), *h₁imesi, *h₁yénti with generalization of the zero-grade rather than, as in Latin or Lithuanian, the full-grade. The TchB second person plural, yacer, reflects PIE *h₁ite + the mysterious -er. In TchB alone we have an extended stem yne- in the first person plural, third person plural, present participle and derived verbal adjective (ynem, yaneṃ, ynemane, ynūca). This stem reflects a putative PIE *h₁i-ne/o- similar, except for the ablaut grade of the root, to Old Latin prod-īnunt or Lithuanian einù (Krause and Thomas, 1960:198). The addition of such a stem to the paradigm of i- allows the differentiation of first and third persons plural from the corresponding singular forms. +
+The imperative forms (sg.) paṣ (A piṣ) and (pl.) pcīso (~ cisso) (A pic ~ picäs) reflect p(ä)- (the regular prefix of the Tocharian imperative) + PIE *h₁id^hi and *h₁ite respectively. PIE *-VTi in word-final position regularly gave Tocharian -ṣ (cf. the 3rd. sg. ending -ṣ in A from PIE *-eti). In the plural *h₁ite > *p-yäcä + the usual plural imperative *-sä, whence *päcäsä > *pciso (see Jasanoff, 1987:106ff). The imperfect stem (B yai-, A ye-) reflects PTch *yei- from PIE *h₁i-yeh₁-, the singular of the optative plus PTch *-ī- the regular imperfect/optative marker, itself the generalized descendant of PIE *-ih₁-, the zero-grade of the optative suffix found in the dual and plural. Similarly formed is the imperfect of ‘to be,’ namely B ṣai-, A ṣe- from PIE *s-yeh₁- + later -ī- (Adams, 1988c:98). The preterite participle stem yk- reflects the zero-grade of an élargissement of *h₁ei-, namely *h₁eig^h- [: Armenian iǰanem (aorist ēǰ) ‘climb up,’ Greek oíkhetai (~ Hesychian eíkhetai) ‘goes away,’ Lithuanian eigà (f.) ‘way, course’ (P:296)] (VW, 1941:169, 1976:598). +
+The preterite mäs- is (as if) from PIE *mus(-ā)-, an intransitive use of *meus- ‘move, take’ (VW:291-292). Further s.v. mus-. +See also ynamo, ynuca, ytārye, ykweṣṣe, ymiye, iyā-, mit-, and probably aiñye. +

+ + +
+

+ikante +(ordinal number) +‘twentieth’
+[ikante, -, ikañceṃ//] +[ikä]nte ṣuktänte ‘twenty-seventh’ (135b3). +∎Probably we have in ikante a PIE *wi(h₁)dḱṃt-o-, a simple thematicization of the word for ‘twenty’ and precisely what we expect for the oldest level of ordinal formation (cf. śkante ‘tenth’ to śak ‘ten’ from *deḱṃt-o- and *deḱṃ respectively). Otherwise is Winter (1991:116-117) who takes ikänte to be from cluster-simplification from *ikäñcte where *ikäñc- is the expected form for ‘twenty’ and -te is the regular ordinal suffix. The -kiñci or TchA that forms the ordinals of decades (though wikiñci* ‘twentieth’ happens not to be attested) is a newer formation, reflecting a putative PIE *-ḱṃtiyo-. +

+ + +
+

+ikäṃ +(number) +‘twenty’
+waimene ikäṃ pkārsa wäntärwa ‘know the twenty difficult things!’ (127b3), ikäṃ kṣuntsa ^.ṣuktañce [meṃ ne śa]k-śtwerne ‘in the twenti[eth year of] the regnal period, in the seventh month, on the fourteenth [day]’ (LP-5a5). + -- ikäṃ-ṣe ‘twenty-one’; +
+ikäṃ-wi* ‘twenty-two’ (ikante-wate* ‘twenty-second’); +
+ikäṃ-trai ‘twenty-three’ (ikante-trīte* ‘twenty-third’); +
+ikäṃ-śtwer* ‘twenty-four’ (ikante-śtarte* ‘twenty-fourth’); +
+ikäṃ-piś ‘twenty-five’ (Ikante-pinkte* ‘twenty-fifth’); +
+ikäṃ-ṣkas* ‘twenty-six’ (ikänte-śkaste ‘twenty-sixth’); +
+ikäṃ-ṣukt* ‘twenty-seven’ (ikänte-ṣuktänte ‘twenty-seventh’); +
+ikäṃ-okt* ‘twenty-eight’ (ikante-oktänte* ‘twenty-eighth’); +
+ikäṃ-ñu* ‘twenty-nine’; +
+ikäṃ-pikwalaññe ‘[one] twenty years old’ (the legal age for Buddhist ordination): se ṣamāne menki-īkäṃ pikwalaṃñepi onolmentse wasaṃ pāt yamaṣṣäṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk ordains a being of less than twenty years of age, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]). +∎TchA wiki ‘id.’ and B ikäṃ would appear to reflect something on the order of PTch *w'īkän which in turn is from a PIE *(d)wi(h₁)dḱṃti, a compound of *(d)wi- ‘two’ (with or without an explicit dual marker *-h₁-) + *d(e)ḱ(o)mt- ‘ten’ + *-i a marker of the dual. (If the original form was *widḱṃti, the *-d- was lost early with accompanying lengthening of the preceding vowel.) Outside of Tocharian one should compare (P:1177; MA:404): Sanskrit viṃśatí-, Digoron Ossetic insäj, Khotanese bistä, Avestan vīsaiti (in Sanskrit the number has been converted into a regularly inflected i-stem; the variation in Indo-Iranian between *vinś- and *vīś- may be due to different treatments of the anomalous cluster *-dḱ- (Mayrhofer, 1976:198]), Armenian k`san, East Greek (here Homeric) eīkosi (< *ewīkosi where the -o- is analogical after the higher decades and the prothetic e- is mysterious), Doric (w)īkati, Latin vīgintī (with secondary -g- [another special development of *-dḱ-?] and regularized dual ending [as if from *-ih₁]), Old Irish fiche (gen. fichet < *wiḱṃt-s, -os, with loss of *-d- but no lengthening of the preceding vowel), Albanian zet (< *wiḱṃti, again with no lengthening of *-i-). +
+Whether the PIE preform that gave ikäṃ and wiki ended in *-ṃt or *-ṃti is a matter of some controversy (Pedersen, 1941:253, VW:572, and Hilmarsson, 1989a:121-125, opt for the former, Lane 1966:219, opts for the latter). Probably the word for ‘twenty’ was explicitly marked as a dual while the less-marked singular (‘ten’) and plural (‘thirty,’ ‘forty,’ etc.) were not explicitly marked for number (just as in Indo-Iranian) and that final *-mt and *-nt in thses forms were lost without a trace in Tocharian. Cf. *deḱṃt ‘ten’ > B śak, A śäk. However *-nti (including *-nti < *-mti) was subject, after original *-nt had been lost, to a facultative apocope of *-i (one might compare Latin -it from *-eti and -unt from -onti and similar phenomena in Celtic [Cowgill, 1975:56-57]). Where *-i remained we have -ñc (as in the fuller forms of the TchA third person plural ending), where *-i was lost we have *-nt > *-nn > *-n (in B), > *-yn > *-y (in A). Thus PTch *w'īkänt gives ikäṃ in B but *wikäyn > *wikäy > wiki in A (see Hilmarsson, 1989a:123). For a somewhat different explanation, see Winter, 1991:116-117. +See also ikante, and a bit more distantly wi, śak, and kante. +

+ + +
+

+īke +(nnt.) +‘place, location; position’
+[īke, -, īke//ykenta, -, ykenta] +snaice tallānt ikemeṃ ‘from a poor, miserable place’ (31b5), ṣañ mäskelye yakene [lege: ikene] ‘in his appointed place’ (108a3), śle-taśśäntse īkene ‘in the place of the mountain-commander’ (LP-3a1). + -- ykeṣṣe* ‘prtng to a place’ (41a3); +
+ykentaṣṣe* ‘prtng to places’ (213a1); +
+yke-postäṃ ‘place by place, one after the other, bit by bit’: po toṃ yke-postäṃ [wṣeññaṃne] neske ram no ñaṣtä[r su srukalñe] onolmeṃ ‘in all such places, one after the other, death seeks beings [as] tribute’ (45b4), tumeṃ c[ai] brāhmaṇi tot ike-postäṃ ynemane Araṇemiñ lānte yapoyne kameṃ ‘then these brahmans, going place to place, came into King A.'s kingdom’ (81b2), sa kenä yke-postäṃ po wars=ite ‘bit by bit this ground [becomes] completely full of water’ (407a5). +∎TchB īke presumably reflects a PTch *w'äike from PIE *weiḱos- (nt.) most closely related to Gothic weihs (gen. weihsis) ‘village’ [: Sanskrit víś- (f.) ‘habitation, house,’ Avestan vīs- ‘house, village, clan,’ Greek oîkos (m.) ‘house,’ Latin vīcus ‘village, part of a town,’ and the widespread *weiḱs-poti- ‘± head of the clan’ (P:1131; MA:622)] (VW, 1941:24, 1976:184). +

+ + +
+

+ikne +See yakne. +

+ + +
+

+ikraiti +See yäkraiti. +

+ + +
+

+ikṣvākuññe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the (family of) Ikṣvāku’
+[-, ikṣvākuññepi, -//] +(162b1). +

+ + +
+

+inkauṃ +(adv.) +‘by day, during the day’
+[re]kauna plātäṃ ne inkauṃ wīna kallaṃ kästwer ṣpanene ‘during the day he gets pleasure from words and conversations, at night from sleep’ (27a4), śaktalye iṅauṃ kästwer katnau ‘I spread seed day and night’ (205a3), inkauṃ = BHS divā (H-149.315b3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:491]). +∎The prefix y(n)- ‘in’ + kauṃ ‘day,’ qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+iñakteṃ +See yñakteṃ. +

+ + +
+

+iñcuwo +See eñcuwo. +

+ + +
+

+īte +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘full’
+waipeccesa īte po ‘full of every possession’ (46a3), po warkṣältsa wäntalyi ite pännāte karṣṣa ‘with all [his] strength he stretched fully the bow and shot’ (109b6), [i]te mäsketrä = BHS āpūryate (H-149.242b3 [Couvreur, 1966: 169]), śtwara tasanmane ite ite motä-yolkaiṃ taṣalle ‘[one is] to place those thirsty for alcohol on four very full containers’ (M-3a4). + -- itauñe ‘± fullness’ (183b5). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (1965a:116-7, 1976:607) plausibly connects this word with TchA ypic ~ ywic ‘id.’ from y(n)- ‘in’ + wic, the expected accusative singular of *wit. B ite and A *wit would reflect a PTch *w'ite. VW would connect *w'ite with Sanskrit vītá- ‘that which pleases, that which one seeks to obtain’ but the semantic gap seems very great. +

+ + +
+

+itreśemtse +‘?’
+///wentse itreśemtse a/// (526b6). +

+ + +
+

+inäśāśśäññe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: inäśāśśäññe, -, -//] +k_uc[e] n[e]säṃ inäśāśśäṃññe wiśikke [] Senemetre par[r]a [y]aṃ (LP-21a2/3). +

+ + +
+

+ineś +See yneś. +

+ + +
+

+inte +(conjunction) +‘if, whenever’
+inte yes ... käṣṣiṃ arttastär ṣañ wrat lau tärkanacer ‘if you love the teacher, you will put aside your own vows’ (108a6/7), s[n]ai sa[k snai la]kle palsko tsenketrä inte toyne [lege: toy no?] warpalñenta mā tākaṃ ‘without good fortune, without suffering the spirit arises when these enjoyments do not exist’ (197a3), inte = BHS yadā (541b2). +See ente and intsu. +

+ + +
+

+intra(-) +‘?’
+In a list of medical ingredients (W-17a4). +

+ + +
+

+Indratewe +(n.) +‘Indradeva’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Indratewe, -, -//] +(472a1). +

+ + +
+

+Indradhvaje +(n.) +‘Indradhvaja’ (PN)
+[Indradhvaje, -, -//] +(74b2). +

+ + +
+

+indranīl +(n.) +‘sapphire’
+[indranīl, -, -//] +(74a1=75b4). +∎From BHS indranīla-. +

+ + +
+

+indravyākaranäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘± prtng to Indra's revelation’
+[m: -, -, indravyākaranäṣṣe//] +(350b2). +∎From BHS *indra-vyākaraṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+indri +(nnt.) +‘sense(-organ); penis’
+[indri, -, indri/indriñc, -, -/indrinta, indrintaṃts, indrinta] +ṣek indrinta wawlāwau ‘always keeping the senses under control’ (26a7), ṣañ indri = BHS svākṣaṃ (175b6), wi indriñcä kektseñaṣṣe indri śaulä ṣe i[nd]ri ‘the two senses, the body-sense and the life-sense’ (333a3), meleṃṣṣe indri ‘sense of smell’ (K-11a1), indrinta = BHS indriya- (U-22b2), indrine = BHS meḍhra- (Y-1a6). + -- intriṣṣe ‘prtng to a sense(-organ)’ (TEB-63-01); +
+indrintaṣṣe* ‘prtng to the sense organs’ (241b2). +∎From BHS indriya-. +

+ + +
+

+Indriśke* +(n.) +‘Indriśke’ (PN in graffito)
+[-, -, Indriśke//] +(G-Qo1). +∎In origin a diminutive of the following. +

+ + +
+

+Indre +(n.) +‘Indra’ (PN of a god)
+[Indre, -, -//] +Indre kārpa rṣākäññe weṣ myāskate ‘Indra descended and changed into the guise of a seer’ (107a7). +See also Ylaiñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+indraiśñe* +(n.) +the name of a meter
+[-, -, indraiśñe//] +(582b4) +

+ + +
+

+intsu +(interrogative/indefinite pronoun) +(a) ‘which, what kind of’; (b) ‘whatever’
+[intsu, -, iñcew//] +(a) posa śpālmeṃ rṣāke intsu ste ‘which seer is best?’ (107b3), intsu no yāmor mā nemcek tänmaṣṣeñca [] iñcew yāmorsa mā ṣpä cmetsiśc yuwäṣṣäṃ ‘what kind of deed [is it], not leading surely to birth, and through what kind of deed does he mature to birth?’ (K-2b1/2); +
+(b) päknāträ iñcew ra tsa e[ka]lmi yāmtsi ‘if one intends to subject anyone whatsoever’ (M-1b7). +∎TchA äntsaṃ ~ antsaṃ ‘id.’ and B intsu reflect PTch *änä- ~ *enä- plus the demonstrative pronouns sū (B) or saṃ (A). PTch *änä- must be an unstressed variant of *enä- and the later must be a frozen form of the demonstrative pronoun (here used as a relative as sometimes in Greek) *h₁e/ono- [as demonstratives: Sanskrit (instrumental) anéna (m.), anáyā (f.) ‘this,’ anā ‘then, certainly,’ Avestan ana ‘this,’ Greek énē (scil. hēméra) ‘the day after tomorrow,’ énioi ‘some’ (if this belongs here [rejected by Frisk, 1960:519]), ekeînos (< *h₁e-ke-h₁eno-) ‘that (one),’ Latin enim ‘for; namely, for instance,’ Umbrian ene(m) ‘tum,’ OHG jener (< *h₁onyo-) ‘that (one),’ Lithuanian añs ~ anàs ‘that (one),’ OCS onъ ‘that one, he,’ Hittite annis ‘that (one)’ (P:319-320); as both demonstrative and relative: Greek éntha ‘there, thither; where, whither,’ éthen ‘thence; whence’]. Previous suggestions, all unsatisfactory phonologically, are reviewed by VW (173-4). The formation is the same as k_use ‘who, what’ (both relative and interrogative), q.v., where we find a collocation of a frozen form of the relative *k^wi- or *k^wu- + se or mäksu ‘who, what’ (both relative and interrogative), q.v., a collocation on PIE *men- + *k^wi-/k^wu- + sū, One should note particularly that the adverbial relative mäkte ‘as, how’ (< *men-k^wi-tōd is to mäksū ‘who, what’ as the adverbial relative inte ~ ente ‘if, when; where’ (< *onV-tōd) is to intsu. +See also ente, inte, and entwe. +

+ + +
+

+intsau* +(n.) +‘± block of wood’
+[-, -, intsau//] +ynemane intsau kātsaś śeśśanmusa śama=nepre poyśintse ‘moving, a block of wood bound to [her] stomach she approached the Buddha’ (18b8). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (1964b:612, 1976:184) suggests descent from PIE *h_aeid^h- ‘burn,’ more particularly a derivation from a nasal-infix present *h_ai-n-d^h-. He notes Sanskrit édhas- ‘fuel’ and Greek kâlon ‘wood, timber’ (if the latter is related to kaíō ‘burn’ [Frisk, 1960:765-766]). +

+ + +
+

+ipäṣṣeñca +See yäp-. +

+ + +
+

+iprer +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sky, air’
+[iprer, ipreräntse, iprer//] +yai kauc iprerne ‘he went high in the air’ (82b5), sū rano ṣäp ipreräntse ānte snai tärkarwa astare klautka ‘and also the surface of the sky turned cloudless and pure’ (350a4), iprer = BHS gaganam (535a5). + -- ipreräṣṣe* ‘prtng to the sky or air’ (374.d). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also eprer. +

+ + +
+

+imassu +See īme. +

+ + +
+

+imāne +(n.) +the designation of some sort of household official or servant (so Sieg and Siegling, 1953:322)?
+[imāne, -, -//] +tane imāne weṣṣäṃ ‘now the imāne speaks’ (520b7). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+īme +(nm.) +‘consciousness, awareness; thought’
+[īme, ymentse, īme//īmi, -, -] +[ru]pmeṃ pal[sk]o taläṣṣäṃ śtwāra ymentse śmoññaṃne ‘from form he raises up the spirit on the four modes of consciousness’ (10b8), k_use ṣamāne naumīye naumīyesa maskäṣṣäṃ pärkāwṣe imesa sū naumīye päst [t]ärkanalle ‘whatever monk exchanges jewel for jewel with the thought of profit, [he is] to give [it all] away’ (337a3/4), śwātsiṣṣe ime yamaṣyenträ ‘they did not have a memory of eating’ (431a1), paṣṣalñeṣṣe ime = BHS ārak ṣāsmṛti (542a6). + -- imeṣṣe ‘prtng to awareness or thought’ (S-8a5); +
+imassu ‘mindful, aware’: imassu = BHS smṛta (8b7), śwātsi yoktsine ymassu mäskelle ‘[he must] be mindful of food and drink’ (559b4). +∎TchB ime reflects PTch *w'äime or *yīme (or *yäime). In either case TchA ime ‘id.’ is clearly a borrowing from B. Extra-Tocharian connections are less certain than sometimes assumed. VW (19661a:436-7, 1976:184) implicitly assumes PTch *w'äime and relationship with to Sanskrit vidmán- ‘knowledge’, and Greek ídmōn ‘instructed in, knowledgeable in,’ and (Hesychian) ídmēn ‘care, consideration,’ nominal derivatives of the widespread family of PIE *weid- ‘know, see’ [: Sanskrit vētti ‘knows,’ Greek eídomai ‘appear,’ Latin videō ‘see,’ German wissen ‘know,’ etc. (P:1125-1127)]. VW takes īme to be from a nominative singular *weidmē(n). However, it might be better to see A pratim ‘decision’ (whence B pratiṃ ‘id.’ by borrowing and Suffixwechsel) as an old compound *prete (see s.v. eprete ‘courage’) + *īme. If so, īme cannot be from PTch *w'äime since the latter would have give a TchA **wim. Attractive in this context is Benveniste's suggestion (1936:236) of a connection with Armenian imanam ‘reflect, imagine’ and Latin imāgō ‘image,’ imitor ~ imitō ‘imitate,’ aemulus ‘emulating, rivaling.’ The phonology of such a derivation is difficult, however. A putative PIE *h_aimó- would give TchB **yame while OIE *h_aeimo- would give **aime. +See also possibly ūwe ‘learnèd.’ +

+ + +
+

+iyā- +(vi./vt.) +‘go, travel’; ‘lead, cause to go’
+Ps. V /iyā-/ [A -, -, iyaṃ//; AImpf. -, -, iyoy//]; Ko. V (= Ps.) [//-, -, iyaṃ] +kokaletstse īyoy sū Prasenacī walo ot ‘then king P. was traveling by wagon’ (5a2); ontsoyttñesa allonkna retke iyaṃ ypaunane māka wnolmeṃ kauseṃ ‘[when kings] out of insatiableness lead the army into other lands, they kill many beings’ (2b8=3a1). +‣In part at least a synonym of i-, q.v. +∎TchA yā- ‘id.’ and B iyā- reflect a PTch *(y)iyā-, a reduplicated athematic present like the subjunctive (relegated present) tättā- ‘set, place’ (see s.v. tā-). The loss of reduplication in TchA in both yā- and tā- is morphologically regular. PTch *(y)iyā- is (as if) from PIE *yiyeh_a- a derivative of *yeh_a- ‘± go, travel’ [: Sanskrit yāti ‘goes, travels,’ Lithuanian jóju (inf. jóti) ‘ride,’ jódyti ‘ride about,’ OCS jadǫ (jachati) ‘travel,’ etc. (P:296)] (cf. VW:589, though with very different details). +See also perhaps yateññe. +

+ + +
+

+irand +(n.) +‘castor-oil plant’ (Ricinus communis Linn.) (a medical ingredient)
+[irand, -, -//] +(FS-a6, P-1a5). +∎From BHS eraṇḍa-. +See also hirant and eraṇḍaṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+iryāpath* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘mode of physical behavior’
+[//-, -, iryāpathänta] +(108b5). +∎From BHS īryāpatha-. +

+ + +
+

+īlārñe +See ylāre. +

+ + +
+

+ilaiñakte +See ylaiñakte. +

+ + +
+

+īwate +(n.) +‘anxiety’
+[iwate, -, -//] +/// stmau krent saṃvarne mā śaula ṣ[oṣa] p[ros]ky=īwate ‘standing in good discipline, [there is] no fear or anxiety for life’ (20b7). +∎Probably with VW (185) we have a compound of y(n)- ‘in’ plus -wäte, a derivative of PIE *dwi- ‘two’ and formally at least identical with *dwito- ‘second.’ As VW points out we have a similar semantic development (*‘be of two minds’ > ‘fear’) to that seen in Greek déos (nt.) ‘fear’ (< *dweyos-) and deídō ‘am afraid’ (< a reduplicated perfect *dedwoyṃ). +See also wate. +

+ + +
+

+iweru* +(n.) +‘± swelling, dropsy’
+[-, -, iweru//] +skwänma śaiṣṣe kolokträ iwerune wränta ramt ‘the world follows good fortunes like waters in a morbid swelling’ (255a2). +∎From y(n)- ‘in’ + weru, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+iśe +‘?’
+/// ceṃ śauśäṃ iśe sä[suwa] /// (566b4). +

+ + +
+

+iśelme +See yśelme. +

+ + +
+

+iścem* +(n.) +‘± clay, brick’
+[-, -, iścem//] +mäkte ost poṣiyantsa [wa]wārpau [pa]paikau ā[s]tre [] ṣi[m mā] prākre aipu no iścemtsa oṃṣmeṃ mā yāmu ‘as a house surrounded by walls, painted, pure, [if] the roof [is] not covered firmly and [is] not made from a above with clay/tile’ (A-2a4/5). + -- iścemaṣṣe* ‘prtng to clay, earthen’: mäkte kos tsaikaṃ lwaksāttsaika=ścemaṣṣeṃ bhājanta ‘as however many earthen vessels he makes’ [iścemaṣṣeṃ = BHS mṛttika] (3a2). +∎TchB iścem ‘clay’ is related to a group of Indo-Iranian words for ‘brick’ [: Sanskrit iṣṭikā- (f.), iṣṭakā- (f.), Avestan ištya- (nt.), Old Persian išti- (Modern Persian xišt), Avestan zəmōištva- (nt.) ‘earthen brick’] (VW, 1949:148, 1976:184-185). The Indo-Iranian words would seem to presuppose a Proto-Indo-Iranian *išt- with various derivatives. In Tocharian we have a putative *ist-ē-m- (so VW) or, perhaps more likely, *ist-yó-mn. Perhaps Hittite is(sa)na- ‘paste’ belongs here also (MA:108). +

+ + +
+

+Iśśapake* +(n.) +‘Iśśapake’ (PN)
+[-, Iśśapakentse, -//] +(TEB-74-06). +

+ + +
+

+īṣi +See yṣiye. +

+ + +
+

+iṣcake +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+[iṣcake, -, -//] +k_ucaññe iṣcake = BHS tokharika (Vorob'ev-Desjatovskij, 1958). +‣The meaning and form of this phrase has been much debated (see K. T. Schmidt, 1994:209-210, for a convenient summary). Assuming, as everyone does, that tokharika stands for tokharikā (a mistake with many parallels in the manuscript), the BHS should mean ‘Tocharian woman’ but iṣcake is not a known word for ‘woman’ and, as an apparently masculine noun, an unlikely candidate to be a heretofore unknown word for ‘woman’ (and a borrowing from a hypothetical Iranian *strīčaka-). Another possibility perhaps lies in Sanskrit tukkhāra a kind of horse and Georgian (obviously borrowed from Sanskrit by some route) t‘oxarig-i, t‘oxarik’-i, t‘uxarig-i ‘ambling horse’ (Bailey, 1985:127). If so, iṣcake would be some sort of equine term (e.g. ‘steed’ or the like) but any more definite semantic equation is still obscure. +

+ + +
+

+iṣwarka +See yṣwarka. +

+ + +
+

+isapar +See ysapar(sa). +

+ + +
+

+isape +See ysape. +

+ + +
+

+isalye +See ysalye. +

+ + +
+

+iskil +(n.) +‘?’
+[iskil, -, -//] +tarmawirñe iskil parra iyaṃ tu ceṃmpa yakwi trai stare-me (LP-15a2/4). +

+ + +
+

+istak +(adv.) +‘suddenly’
+istak tāka cakra[vārt] ‘suddenly he was a cakravartin’ (37a8), tesa nāṣṣi istak ast[are] ‘[if] he should wash thusly, suddenly [he will] be clean’ (P-2b6). +∎Probably with VW (184) y(n)- ‘in’ + -stā-, a derivative of ‘stand’ + the strengthening particle k(ä). For the meaning VW adduces Latin statim ‘steadily, on the spot; immediately, at once.’ +See also y(n)-, ste and tāk- (s.v. nes-), and k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+ispek +(adv.) +‘nearby; concerning’
+///ne Brahmadatte ñemtsa walo mäskīträ ispek ṣpä ‘and king B. by name found himself nearby’ (349b3), nervāṇäṣṣai rīntse kameṃ ispek cai ‘concerning them, they went to the nirvana-city’ (PK-AS-16.3-a1/2 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎A compound of y(n)- ‘in’ + spe ‘near’ + the strengthening particle k(ä), qq.v. +See also particularly ysape. +

+ + +
+

+Uttare +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Uttara’ (PN of a prince)
+[Uttare, Uttari, Uttareṃ (voc. Uttara)//] +(81a5). +

+ + +
+

+Uttaraphalguṇi +(n.) +‘Uttarāphalguṇī’
+[a lunar mansion] +(M-1b9). +∎From BHS uttarāphalguṇī-. +

+ + +
+

+utpat +(n.) +‘± production, thing produced, sum’
+[utpat, -, -//] +caturḍasaṣṣe[ṃ] k_uśāneṃ utpatä po ṣe keśne [wa]rpāmte ‘empfingen die am 14ten fälligen k_uśāne], Betrag alles in einer Zahl 306,940’ [Sieg, 1950:220] (490a-I5/6). +∎From BHS utpāda-. +

+ + +
+

+utpatti +(n.) +‘± origin, production’
+[utpatti, -, //] +(A-2a4). + -- utpattiṣṣe* ‘prtng to origin, production’ (104b3=S-1b1). +∎From BHS utpatti-. +

+ + +
+

+udāṃ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘a solemn but joyous utterance’
+[udāṃ, -, -//] +(Dd7). +∎From BHS udāna-. +

+ + +
+

+Udānalankār* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Udānālankāra’ (PN of a buddhist work)
+[-, -, Udānalankār//] +(28a4). +

+ + +
+

+Udāyi +(n.) +‘Udāyin’ (PN)
+[Udāyi, -, Udāyiṃ//] +(60a1). +

+ + +
+

+udāvartt* +(n.) +a kind of bowel disease
+[-, udāvarttäntse, -//] +(497b4). +∎From BHS udāvarta-. +

+ + +
+

+udumbara +(n.) +‘Ficus racemosa Linn.’ [aka F. glomerata Roxb.] (a medical ingredient)
+[udumbara, -, -//] +(W-29a4). +∎From BHS udumbara-. +

+ + +
+

+udai +(n.) +‘rising (as of the sun),’ only attested in the compound udai-ṣale ‘the eastern mountain behind which the sun is presumed to rise’
+pārāmitṣṣe ud[ai]-ṣle[meṃ] k_use su pa[r]k[a] /// (288a1). +∎From BHS udaya-. +

+ + +
+

+upakṣepapadak +(n.) +‘± word of indication’
+[upakṣepapadak, -, -//] +(197b1). +∎From BHS *upakṣepa-padaka- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Upagupte* +(n.) +‘Upagupta’ (PN)
+[-, Upagupti, -//] +(H-ADD.149.62a3 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). +

+ + +
+

+Upage +(n.) +‘Upaga’ (PN)
+[Upage, Upagentse, -//] +(107a5). +

+ + +
+

+upacār +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘practice, manner of speaking’
+[upacār, -, upacār//] +(M-1b4). +∎From BHS upacāra-. +

+ + +
+

+upacai* +(n.) +‘± help, aid’
+[N-gen. upacai yām- ‘help someone’] [-, -, upacai//] +///[upa]cai cm[e]la saṃsāräntse upacai yamaṣṣeñcaṃ /// (173b5). +∎From BHS upacaya-. +

+ + +
+

+upatāpi +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘heating, inflaming, hurting’
+(197b5). +∎From BHS upatāpin-. +

+ + +
+

+Upatiṣye +(n.) +‘Upatiṣya’ (PN)
+[Upatiṣye, -, - (voc. Upatiṣya)//] +(22b7). +

+ + +
+

+upadeś* +(n.) +‘instruction; a type of buddhist literature’
+[-, -, upadeś//] +(112b6). + -- upadeśäṣṣe ‘prtng to instruction or to the upadeśa’ (420b3). +∎From BHS upadeśa-. +

+ + +
+

+upadrap +(n.) +‘an illness with a sudden onset’
+[upadrap, -, -//] +(P-1b4). +∎From BHS upadrava-. +

+ + +
+

+Upanande +(n.) +‘Upananda’ (PN)
+[Upanande, Upanandi, Upanandeṃ//] +(337a4). +

+ + +
+

+upādāṃ +(n.) +‘grasping, clinging, addiction’
+[upādāṃ, -, -//] +(151b4). +∎From BHS upādāna-. +

+ + +
+

+upādāyarūp +(n.) +‘accidental or derivative form of matter’
+[upādāyarūp, -, -//] +(193b5). +∎From BHS upādāyarūpa-. +

+ + +
+

+upādhyāye +(n.) +‘master’
+[upādhyāye, -, - (voc. upādhyāya)//upādhyāyi, -, -] +(81b2). + -- upādhyāye-yäkne ‘in a master's manner’ (630a3). +∎From BHS upādhyāya-. +

+ + +
+

+upālyittse +(adj.) +‘?’
+/// upālyittse śaisintse [lege: śaitsintse] /// (116a3). +

+ + +
+

+upāy* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘means, stratagem’
+[-, -, upāy//upāynta, -, -] +tsalpäṣleṣṣana upāynta ‘means to salvation’ (Pe-2a3). +∎From BHS upāya-. +

+ + +
+

+upāsakāñca* +(n.) +‘female lay-disciple, lay-member of an order’
+[//upasakāñcana, -, -] +(113b1). +∎A derivative of upāsake, q.v., + the feminizing suffix -āñca (cf. TchA wāskāñc ‘id.’). +

+ + +
+

+upāsake +(nm.) +‘male lay-disciple, lay-member of an order’
+[upāsake, upāsakentse, -//upāsaki, -, upāsakeṃ] +(15a3=17a3). + -- *¹upāsakñe (n.) ‘laity’: only in the derived adjectives, +
+upāsakñeṣṣe ‘prtng to the laity’ (17a7) and +
+²upāsakñe* (adj.) ‘prtng to the laity’ (51a3). +∎The equivalent of TchA wāsak, also a borrowing from BHS upāsaka-. +See also upāsakāñca. +

+ + +
+

+upekṣ +(n.) +‘indifference’
+[upekṣ, -, upekṣ//] +(197a4). +∎From BHS upekṣā-. +See also upekṣindri* and upekṣopavicār*. +

+ + +
+

+upekṣindri* +(n.) +‘indifferent sense’
+[//-, -, upekṣindrinta] +(41a6). +∎From BHS *upekṣindriya- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+upekṣopavicār* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± sphere of indifference’
+[//upekṣopavicāränta, -, -] +(172a4). +∎From BHS *upekṣopavicāra- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+upetya +‘?’
+upetya ṣkas indrintas yūma[ne] (195a3). +∎From BHS upe- ‘approach’? +

+ + +
+

+Upoṣathe +(n.) +‘Upoṣatha’ (PN of a god)
+[Upoṣathe, -, -//] +(23a1). +

+ + +
+

+Uppalavarṇa* +(n.) +‘Utpalavarṇā’ (PN of a nun)
+[-, Uppalavarṇay, -//] +(H-149.X.5a3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +

+ + +
+

+uppāl* +(nnt.) +‘blue lotus’
+[-, -, uppāl//uppālnta, -, uppālnta] +u[ppāläntasa] = BHS padmaiḥ (PK-NS 306/305a2 [Couvreur, 1970:177]). + -- uppālṣṣe* ‘prtng to the blue lotus’: wärä uppāläṣṣe = BHS vāri puṣkara (U-26b4); +
+uppāl-pyapyaiṣṣe ‘prtng to lotus-flowers’ (186a3); +
+uppāl-yok* ‘lotus-like’ (560a5). +∎From BHS utpala-. +

+ + +
+

+ubhayavipariti* +(n.pl.) +‘± neither enjoying nor suffering’
+[//-, -, ubhayavipariteṃ] +(197b2). +∎From BHS *ubhaya-viparīta- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton, but see the TchB gloss at 197b6). +

+ + +
+

+umāñca +‘?’
+///ne _umāñca kauntse maiyyā^.e/// (424b5). +

+ + +
+

+urṇaṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the circles of (white) hair between the brows of a buddha or other great being’
+[m: urṇaṣṣe, -, -//] +(71a6). +∎An adjectival derivative from (unattested) *ūrṇ, a borrowing from BHS ūrṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+Urbilvakāśyape +(n.) +‘Uruvilvakāśyapa’ (PN)
+[Urbilvakāśyape, -, -//] +(397b5). +

+ + +
+

+uluke* +(n.) +(n.) ‘owl’
+[-, -, uluke//] +(511b1). +∎From BHS ulūka-. +

+ + +
+

+Ulkāmukhe +(n.) +‘Ulkāmukha’ (PN of a prince)
+[Ulkāmukhe, -, -//] +(589a5). +

+ + +
+

+uwaṃt* +(n.) +‘± border, margin’ (?)
+[-, -, uwant//] +/// entwemeṃ _uwaṃtne ynārki kauś kyāna amokäṣṣe /// (429b5). +∎From BHS upānta-? +

+ + +
+

+uwataka* +(n.) +a member of some profession
+[//-, uwatakaṃts, -] +co [lege: cau] komtak _uwatakas [lege: -kaṃts] yap wsāwa ‘this very day I gave barley for the uwatakas’ (459a2). +

+ + +
+

+ūwe +(adj.) +‘learnèd’
+[ūwe, -, -//uweñ, -, ūweṃ] +piś uw[eṃ] akalṣälye[ṃ]ścä ‘toward the five learnèd disciples’ (81a1), śtwer uweñ mcuṣkanta Ulkāmukhe [] Katakarṇi [] Hastiny[ā]se [] Nupūra ‘the four learnèd princes: U., K., H., and N.’ (589a5), /// lañ-c uwe ‘he emerged learnèd concerning thee’ [?] (A-4a1). +∎TchB uwe reflects a PTch *wäwen-, (as if) from PIE *widwó- or *widwon-, adjectival derivatives of *weid- ‘know, perceive’ [: Sanskrit vétti ~ vedate ~ vidáti ‘knows’ (perfect véda), vindáti ‘finds,’ Avestan vaēδa ‘knew,’ Armenian egit ‘found,’ Greek eídomai ‘appear,’ oîda ‘know,’ Latin videō ‘see,’ Gothic witan ‘know,’ Lithuanian pavýdėti ‘to see,’ OCS viděti ‘id.,’ etc. (P:1125-1126; MA:337)]. Particularly one might compare the Vedic vidú- ‘wise, intelligent, heedful’ and Gothic witu-bni ‘knowledge, recognition,’ of which *widw-ó- would be a thematicization. Not with VW (539) from *dwen- as in Old Latin duenos, later Latin bonus ‘good.’ Such a derivation is phonologically impossible and semantically unlikely. +See also possibly īme. +

+ + +
+

+uśir +(n.) +‘fragrant root of Andropogon muricatus’ (a medical ingredient)
+[uśir, -, -//] +(500a5). +∎From BHS uśīra-. +

+ + +
+

+uṣṇīr +‘± top-knot,’ only attested in the compound uṣṇīr-mahūr* (n.) ‘± top-knot crown’ +(71a4). +∎Presumably from a Prakrit variant of BHS uṣṇīṣa-. Cf. TchA uṣnīr, Khotanese uṣnīra-, Uyghur ušnir. +

+ + +
+

+uṣmakatäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the first stage of the nirvedha-bhāgīya’
+[f: uṣmakatäṣṣa, -, -//] +(554b4). +∎An adjective derived from an unattested *ūṣmakat from BHS ūṣmagata-. +

+ + +
+

+ustama* +(n.) +‘last [thing], utmost [thing]’ (?)
+[-, -, ustama//] +/// ustamameṃ ysā-yokä/// (566b7). +∎If from Khotanese ustama- ‘id.’ +

+ + +
+

+Ṛṣivadaṃ* +(n.) +‘Ṛṣivadana (~ Ṛṣipatana)’ (PN of a deer-park in Benares where the Buddha preached)
+[-, -, ṛṣivadaṃ//] +(112a3). +

+ + +
+

+ṛddhiṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to magic’
+[m: ṛddhiṣṣe, -, -//] +(108b8). +See also raddhi. +

+ + +
+

+ṛṣapak +(n.) +a kind of medicinal plant
+[ṛṣapak, -, -//] +(499a5). +∎From BHS ṛṣabhaka-. +

+ + +
+

+eṃṣke +(a) (preposition); (b) (adv.); (c) (conj.) +(a) ‘up to, until’; (b) ‘even’; (c) ‘while, until’
+(a) abhijñänta dhyananma eroṣ eṃṣke ywārco tsälpoṣ saṃsārmeṃ ‘[those who] have called up [higher] knowledge and meditations [are] up to halfway redeemed from the saṃsāra’ (31a3), bhavākkärṣṣai yoñiyai eṃṣke katkässi añmassu ‘desirous of crossing unto the way of the last and best existence’ (108b3), eṃṣke pi[nkte] = BHS yāvat pañcama (198a3); +
+(b) tumeṃ ... maimañceṃ appamāt sū yamastär eṃṣk=ārhānteṃ wrocceṃ ‘thus he treats badly the just, even the great arhats’ (31b2), tumeṃ walo eṃṣke tot śokagārne yopsa krakecce wassi au[su] ‘then the king entered, even as far as the bedroom, wearing soiled clothes’ (99a1); +
+(c) yenten stamṣäṃ ... eṃṣke po yenteṃ | kektsenne stmauwa lkāṣṣäṃ ‘he establishes the winds ... until all the winds standing in the body he sees’ (41b6), eṃṣke tot ṣe Ylaiñäkte asāṃne lamoy ‘nevertheless Indra sat first on the throne’ (PK-AS16.3b5/6 [Pinault, 1989:157]). + -- eṃṣketstse (a) (adj./adv.) ‘lasting’; (b) (preposition) ‘± even unto’: näksenträ mā mäskeṃntr [e]ṃṣketse ‘they perish and do not last forever’ (1a3), mā yśelmy [eṃ]ṣk[e]cc[i] mā sak onwaññ[e] ‘desires [are] not lasting, good fortune [is] not eternal’ (8a1); (b) eṃṣketse witskai [wikṣä]lñe tuntse weskau ‘I speak of its disappearance even unto the root’ (K-3b2/3). +∎If related, TchA eṣäk ‘on top of, above’ and B eṃṣke must reflect PTch *enṣäke (A eṃṣke ‘while’ is an obvious borrowing from B). However, extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are obscure. For a suggestion, see VW (179) who takes it to be (Tocharian) *en- + (PIE) *seǵ^h- ‘hold, have the victory.’ However, TchA eṣäk is probably rather to be connected with TchB oṃṣ- (as in oṃṣmeṃ ‘from above,’ q.v.) +

+ + +
+

+eṃss- +(vt.) +‘?’
+|n ̇säṃc ay eṃssalñe kottarntse yetwe k_uśiññe /// (361b6). +

+ + +
+

+ek* +(nm.) +‘eye’
+[-, ekantse, ek/eś(a)ne, eś(a)naisäñ, eś(a)ne/-, -, eśaiṃ] +eśane klausane ṣeycer-me kartstse yolo lkātsi klyaussisa ‘you had eyes and ears to see and hear good and evil’ (108a6), miko_u eśne ‘having closed the eyes’ (134a6), se ekantse yumāne n[esaṃñe] = BHS dṛṣtaṃ (195b6), [eśanai]säña [lege: eśanaisäñ] win=aiṣṣeñca = BHS nayanābhirāmaḥ (524b5), ekantse = BHS cakṣu- (527a2), eśanene = BHS akṣi- (Y-2a3/4). +‣The plural (acc.) eśaiṃ is obviously late and analogical to the (unattested) plural of klautso ‘ear,’ namely (nom.) *klautsaiñ. + -- ekaṣṣe ‘prtng to the eye’ (108b10); +
+eśneṣṣe* ‘prtng to the eyes’ (510b4); +
+eśanetstse ‘having eyes’: [e]śanetstse no mā lkāṣṣäṃ = BHS cakṣuṣmān vā no paśyati (H-149.236a4 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:496]); +
+eś-lmau ‘blinded’ [lit. ‘the eyes set’]: tsätkwaṃtsñeṣṣe surmesa eś-lm[au] ś[ai]ṣṣ[e] ‘a world blinded by the cataract of perverseness’ (207b2). +∎TchA ak (dual aśäṃ and B ek reflect PTch *ek from PIE *h₃e/ok^w [: Sanskrit ákṣi (nt.), Avestan aši ‘both eyes,’ Skr. ánīka- (nt.) ‘front side,’ Avestan ainīka- (m.) ‘face’ (< *h₁eni-h₃k^w-o-), Armenian akn ‘eye,’ Greek ósse ‘both eyes,’ ómma ‘eye’ (< *h₃ok^wmṇ), Latin oculus ‘eye,’ Gothic augo ‘eye’ (< Proto-Germanic *agwo by metathesis?), Lithuanian akìs ‘eye’ (dual akì), OCS oko ‘eye’ (dual oči), Albanian sy (< *h₃ok^wi- + -ōu ?), etc. (P:775-777)] (Meillet, 1911:150, VW:141; MA:188). Tocharian would seem to reflect a neuter *h₃ok^w (dual *h₃ok^wih₁). +See also yneś, tärrek, and pratsāko. +

+ + +
+

+ekaññi +(n.) +‘possession’
+[ek(añ)ñi, -, ek(añ)ñi//-, -, ekñinta] +lānte spaktāṃ ypoye pauśye añmantse= ekñi kurpelle ‘[the householder is] to be concerned [for] the service to the king, national taxes, and his own possessions’ (33a6). + -- ekaññiññe ‘id.’: orocci ... ekñiññesa tsmenträ śateñ ‘the great grow rich with possessions’ (521b4), ekañiñenta kakrauparmeṃ = BHS bhogān vai samudānīya (H-149.329a4 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486]); +
+ekaññiññentatstse: ‘having possessions’ (561a1). +∎Contra VW (175) ekaññi is related to TchA akäṃtsune ‘possession’ but not to A ek ‘nourishment’ and thus not ultimately related to PIE *h_aeiḱ- ‘± be in possession of,’ though the semantics would admittedly be attractive. TchA akäṃtsune and B ekaññe ~ ekaññi would appear to reflect a PTch *ekäññ-. Very tentatively one might suggest a putative PIE *h_aoǵṇyo- ‘what is driven’ > ‘herd’ (for the semantics one should compare Greek agélē ‘herd’) > ‘possessions’ (of an originally pastoral people). The semantic history proposed here would be similar to that of English chattle. +See ekaññe* and also possibly āk-. +

+ + +
+

+ekaññe* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘possession, equipment’
+[-, -, ekaññe//-, ekñentaṃts, ek(añ)ñenta] +ekñenta lyśi no alyenkäṃs cowai tärkanaṃ ‘possessions, however, thieves steal from others’ (33a4), dīpāmalṣe ekaññe wasa ‘she gave the uqipment for the lamp’ (Qumtura 34-g1 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). + -- ekaññeṣṣe ‘prtng to possessions’ (330a4); +
+ekaññetstse ‘having possessions’ (375a4) +See s.v. ekaññi. +

+ + +
+

+ekatkatte +(adj.) +‘not passing, not crossing’
+[m: ekätkātte, -, -//] +[samu]d[tä]rntse totteññe ekätkātte se mā srukalñe yänmālle ‘one not crossing the border of the ocean will not achieve death’ (PK-C12-a2 [Thomas, 1987c:91]). +∎The privative of kätk-¹ ‘cross, pass,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:63-64). +

+ + +
+

+ekamätte +(adj.) +‘future’ (lit. ‘the un-come’)
+[ekamätte, -, -//ekamäcci, -, ekamäcceṃ] [f: -, -, ekamäccai//] +ekam_äcai preśyaine ‘in a future time’ (27a3), kätkor ekamätte karsatsi ‘to know past and future’ (PK-AS16.2b5 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎Privative of käm- ‘come,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:105-106). +

+ + +
+

+ekalätte +(adj.) +‘± intolerable, unbearable’
+[ekalätte, -, -//] +∎Privative of käl-¹ ‘bear, tolerate,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:96). +

+ + +
+

+ekalymi +(postposition/adverb) +‘in the power of, subjected to [with genitive]’ [NOUN-acc. ekalymi yām- ‘subject’]
+tañ ekalymi ñäś cī artaskemar säsweno ‘I [am] in thy power; I acknowledge thee [as] lord’ (44a1), pelaiknetse ekälymi nestsi preke ‘[it is] time to be subject to the law’ (281a4/5). + -- ekalymiññe* ‘± power, strength’: snai mäktauñe enkaltse sporttotär ekalymiññene ‘he dwells in the incomparable strength of passion’ (A-2b2); +
+ekalymiññetstse only attested in the derived abstract: ekalymiññetsäññe* ‘± power, strength’: /// [kre]n[t] spelkk[e]-meṃ wai ṣañ ekalymiññetsäṃñemeṃ se bodhisatveṃts [ts]ārwa ‘from the good zeal and his own strength and the joy of the bodhisatvas’ (600a1). +∎A compound of the intensive prefix e(n)- (here retaining much of its original locative force ‘in’) + kalymi ‘direction,’ qq.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:170). +

+ + +
+

+Ekaśrinke +(n.) +‘Ekaśringa’ (PN)
+[Ekaśrinke, -, -//] +(350b3). +

+ + +
+

+ekasyālaṃbanaṃ +‘?’
+ṣkässaṃts ṣañ ekasyālaṃbanaṃ (173a3). +∎From BHS *ekāsya- + ālambana-? +

+ + +
+

+ekārthavācake* +(n.) +‘one who speaks tautologically’ (?)
+[//ekārthavācaki, -, -] +(177a2). +∎If from BHS *ekārtha-vācaka- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+ekāsanikäññe* +(adj.) +‘observing the rule of using the same seat (for eating)’
+[m: -, -, ekāsanikäññe//] +(558b4). +∎From BHS ekāsanika- + the Tocharian adjectival suffix -ññe. +

+ + +
+

+ekätkātte +See ekatkatte. +

+ + +
+

+ekito* +(n.) +‘help’ [N-gen. ekita yām- ‘to help’]
+[-, -, ekita//] +krenta wäntarwan=ekīta yāmṣeñca k_us[e] ‘whoever is helping in good things’ (520b5), ṣesa ṣñaṣṣeṃmpa po se [lege: k_use] ñy ekita yamaṣare ce postakäśc ‘together with all my own people who have helped me with this book’ (K-8a2). + -- ekītatstse ‘helpful’ (82b4). +∎Morphologically we have ek-ito with the same "agentive" suffix -ito we see in laukito ‘stranger’ from lauke ‘far.’ The origin of ek-, however, is unknown. Not with VW (176) from TchA ek ‘nourishment.’ +

+ + +
+

+ekñiññe +See ekaññi. +

+ + +
+

+ekwalate +(adj.) +‘± indefatigable’, only attested in the compound: ekwalatte-tsirauñe ‘± indefatigable energy’
+(S-3a1). +∎Privative of kwäl- ‘fail,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:64-69). +

+ + +
+

+ekṣalye +(nf.) +‘(fit) season, time for action (of a Buddha), parousia’
+[ekṣalye, -, ekṣaly//] +ekṣalyä/// = BHS ṛtu- (544a2), /// pyāpyaiṃ stāna ṣarmna okonta ekṣalyänts[e] ‘flowers, trees, seeds, and fruits of the season’ (A-4a3), poyśiññeṣṣai ekṣalymeṃ mā triśīmar ‘may I not stray from the season of the Buddha!’ (S-8b4). + -- ekṣälyṣe* ‘prtng to the parousia’ (275a2). +∎TchA opṣäly ‘id.’ and B ekṣalye reflect either PTch *epṣälye or *ekṣälye. Either an original *-kṣ- has become -pṣ- in A or an original *-pṣ- has become -kṣ- in B. Since -kṣ- is a common cluster in both languages and since -pṣ- is practically found only here, it seems reasonable to suppose the unusual -pṣ- was changed to the more usual -kṣ- in B. Thus we should reconstruct PTch *epṣälye. This PTch *epṣälye can be from a PIE *h_xop(e/i)seli- or *h_xop(e/i)selen- which I would segment as *h_xop(e)s-el-i-, a derivative of *h_xopos- (nt.) ‘work’ [: Sanskrit ápas-, Avestan -apah-, Latin opus, all ‘work’ (P:780)]. PIE *h_xop(e)seli- might have meant something like ‘worktime.’ We might have (1) *h_xopos- (nt.) ‘work’ > (2) *h_xops-ó- (exocentric thematicization) ‘worker’ > (3) *h_xopse-lo- ‘pertaining to a worker’ > (4) *h_xopsel-i- ‘working.’ For stages (2) and (3) we might compare Greek skopós ‘watcher’ > skópelos ‘watch-tower.’ (Alternatively we might have had (1) *h_xopos- > (2) *h_xops-o- (endocentric thematicization) ‘work’ > (3) *h_xopse-lo- ‘prtng to work’ > *h_xopsel-i- ‘working’ (MA:649). Left without an etymology by VW (339). +

+ + +
+

+ekṣinekäññe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a dove’
+[f: //ekṣinkäññana, -, -] +ekṣinekaṃñana misa (ST-a6). +∎An adjective in -ññe from an unattested *ekṣinek(e) ‘dove,’ a borrowing from Middle Iranian *axšinaka- (cf. Ossetic axsinäg or Khotanese aṣṣänaka-). See Schwentner, 1956:238. +

+ + +
+

+enk- +(vt.) +‘take, grip, seize; conclude’
+Ps. IXa /enkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, enkastär// enkaskemtär, -, enkaskentär; MPImpf. -, -, enkaṣṣitär; Ger. enkaṣṣälle]; Ko. I /enk-/ [MP -, -, enktär// -, -, enkantär; MPOpt. eñcimar, eñcitar, eñcitär//; Inf. enktsi; Ger. enkalle]; Ipv. III /penksā-/ [ASg. penksa; MPSg. penksar]; Pt. III /enksā-/ [MP enksamai, -, enksate// -, -, enksante]; PP /enku-/ +k_uce satāṣṣäṃ tu anāṣlñe enkastär ‘whatever he exhales, he takes it [as] inhalation’ (41b2), tu maśne enkastär nuskaṣṣäṃne ‘he takes it in [his] fist and squeezes it’ (334a4), caumpa ṣesa waṣamñe enkaṣṣitär ‘together with him he concluded a friendship’ (PK-AS16.3b6 [Pinault, 1989:157]); saswe wess eṅträ ‘the lord will seize us’ (79a5), śīlaṣṣana sälyeṃ no [sic] prākre ysomo eñcīmar ‘may I grasp together the lineaments of moral behavior!’ (S-4a3); [u]pāsakeṃ ñäś peṅsa śaul warñai saim ne[stsiśco ñi] ‘take me [as] a lay-brother to be for me a life-long refuge!’ (48b3); ñakti arjuṃ stām nemar-neś cau enksate ‘the gods bent down the arjuna-tree to him and he grabbed it’ (107b4); ñi se pilko ste prākr=enku ‘this is my view firmly held’ (23b4), ñu[ltse] kwärsarw=enkwa keṃ ‘nine thousand leagues bounding the earth’ (45b3). + -- enkormeṃ: aśak_ulane enko[r]meṃ = BHS prānte gṛhītvā (530a3); +
+enkalñe: (see separate entry below). +∎TchB enk- is related to A ents- ‘id.’ in that the latter is from *enks-, a generalization of the preterite stem and probably the present also (regularly corresponding to B enkäsk^'ä/_e- would be *enkäs^'ä/_e- which would have given *enks^'ä/_e-). PTch *enk- is, as has long been supposed (in embryo first by Meillet and Lévi, 1912:28), from PIE *h₁ṇḱ-, the zero-grade of *h₁neḱ- ~ *h₁enḱ- ‘± reach, achieve, take’ [: Sanskrit aśnóti ‘reaches, comes to, gets,’ Avestan -ašnaoiti ‘id.,’ Sanskrit náśati (~ nákṣati) ‘reaches, obtains,’ Avestan -nasaiti ‘id.,’ Greek enegkeîn (< *h₁neh₁ṇḱe/o-), the suppletive aorist to phérein ‘carry, bear,’ Latin nanciō ‘light upon, obtain,’ Old Irish ro-icc ‘reaches,’ do-icc ‘comes’ (< *h₁ēnḱ-), Lithuanian nešù ‘carry, bear,’ OCS nesǫ ‘id.,’ etc. (P:316-318)] (VW:179-180; MA:35). The derived noun eñcäl, if it belongs here, suggests an old thematic present *h₁ṇḱe/o- at some point in the history of Tocharian. +See also enkäl, enkalñe, onkor (< Proto-Tocharian *enkor but with regular rounding of e- before the -o- of the next syllable; the preterite participle enkor has its initial en- restored analogically), probably eñcäl and onkorño, and possibly entse. +

+ + +
+

+enkatkre +(adv.) +‘± deeply’ (?)
+k_ucen=enkätkre sanuññe /// (254a3), ket enkätkre sanuññe ṣärṣpäṃ [lege: ṣärpṣäṃ] pärnaśc waṣämñe pile ñäṣträ (255a5). +∎If a derivative of kätkare ‘deep,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:174). +

+ + +
+

+enkarstatte +(adj.) +‘± uncuttable’
+[enkarstatte, -, -//] +(136b5). +∎Privative of kärst- ‘cut off,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:72). +

+ + +
+

+enkalñe +(nnt.) +‘grasping at or clinging to existence; assumption, taking to oneself.’
+[enkalñe, enkalñentse, enkalñe//-, enkalñentaṃts, enkalñenta] +enkalyñentse = BHS upādāna- (156b5), [ankaiṃ]-p[i]lkontse enkälyñemeṃ = BHS mithyādṛṣṭisamādānāt (H-150.114a3 [Thomas, 1969:301]), k_use cek-warñai lakle ste tuntse ṣarm po enkalyñe te ṣek karsoym ‘whatever suffering there is whose whole origin is clinging to existence, may I cut it off!’ (S-3a2). + -- enkalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to clinging to existence’ (204b3); +
+enkalñetstse* ‘id.’ (PK-NS53-a2 [Pinault, 1988]). +∎The regular abstract of the subjunctive stem of enk-, q.v. +See also enkäl. +

+ + +
+

+enkalpatte +(adj.) +‘unachieving, not having achieved’
+[enkalpatte, -, -//-, enkalpacceṃts, -] +(K-6b6). +∎Privative from kälp- (see Hilmarsson, 1991:73-78). +

+ + +
+

+enkäl +(n.) +‘feeling, passion’ [i.e. ‘that which seizes one’]
+[enkäl, enkalntse, enkäl//enkalwa, -, enkalwa] +pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt enkältsa ‘his whole body blazed with passion like a firebrand’ (8a5), enkäl = BHS rāga (8b6), po enkalwa yaika srotāpattiññe perne kalpa ‘he destroyed all passions and attained the rank of a srotapātti’ (109a9), enkäl = BHS saṃrāga- (534a3). + -- enkalṣe* ‘prtng to passion’ (278b2); +
+enkalsu* ‘± passionate’ (575b1). +∎A nomen actionis from the subjunctive of enk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+enkaucar +(adv.) +‘aloud, publicly’
+auntsante weṃtsy enkaucar toṃ re[kauna] ‘they began to say publicly these words’ (25b7). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + kauc ‘high,’ qq.v., + -ār (see Hilmarsson, 1991:174-175). +

+ + +
+

+enklyauṣätte* +(adj.) +‘unheard (of)’
+[-, -, enklyauṣäcce//] +enklyauṣäcce = BHS ananuśrutam (30b3). +∎Privative of klyaus- ‘hear,’ q.v. (cf. Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:109-110). +

+ + +
+

+enkwaññe +See enkwe. +

+ + +
+

+enkwe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘man’ (as opposed to woman)
+[enkwe, enkwentse, enkweṃ/enkwene, -, -/-, -, enkweṃ] +klīye rano trenksate rūpn=eṅwentse ‘the woman clung to the shape of a man’ (9b4), eṅwentse = BHS puruṣasya (16a5), päknāträ ekweṃ [lege: enkweṃ] klaiṃ wat no ekalmi yāmtsi ‘[if] one intends to subject a man or a woman’ (M-1b7). +‣One should note that the -k- is often omitted in the spelling of this word. Presumably in this environment (after a nasal, before a dorso-velar approximant) the obstruent was very weakly sounded or may have been absent altogether phonetically. + -- enkwaññe ‘male’: klaiñ=eṅwaññe ṣotrūnimeṃ ‘the [two] signs of woman and man’ (8a6), enkwaññe ṣotri ne[ksa]te-ñ ‘my male characteristic was destroyed’ (400a2). +∎TchA onk ‘id.’ and B enkwe reflect PTch *enkwe (as if) from PIE *ṇḱw-ó- ‘mortal,’ a regular thematic derivative of *ṇḱ-u- ‘dead [one]; body’ [: Old Irish éc ‘dead’(< *ṇḱu-), Avestan nasu- ‘corpse, carrion,’ Greek nékūs ‘corpse’] (Campanile, 1969:198, VW:337; MA:150) from neḱ- ‘die, perish’ (see P:762, more s.v. näk-). Semantically we have a development *‘mortal’ > *‘human being’ > ‘(adult) male human being.’ The intermediate meaning is preserved in TchA oñi ‘human’ (< *onkñi [= B enkwaññe]). +See also näk-. +

+ + +
+

+ecce +(adv.) +‘hither’
+[ecce ñäsk-/rit- ‘greet, rejoice in’; ecce spārtt- ‘progress, advance’] +Tuhkā ecce w_ināsi kameṃ ‘the Turks came hither to worship’ (G-Qm11), [k_use] no reki ecce rito[w]o = BHS yā hi vācābhinanditā (H-ADD.149.96a4 [Thomas, 1969:314]), āñmalāṣṣälñe ecce e[nkormeṃ] = BHS anukam-pāmupādāya (PK-NS-13+516a4 [Couvreur, 1967:154]), tusāksa ecce kälamār cau ñäke ‘therefore will I now bring it forward’ (PK-12J-b3 [Thomas, 1979:48]), ecce spārtalñe = BHS pravṛtti- (Y-3b3). +∎TchA aci ‘starting with; hither’ and B ecce reflect PTch *ecye but extra-Tocharian cognates, if any, are obscure. Hilmarsson (1986a:330-331) suggests a pronominal PIE *h₁o- + -tih_xo- (similar to Sanskrit nítya- ‘native, one's own’ to ni- ‘down, away,’ though here we would appear to have *ni-tyo- rather than *ni-tih_xo-). Otherwise VW (143) who relates the second syllable to Greek díomai ‘put to flight, pursue,’ etc. +

+ + +
+

+eñatketste +(adv.) +‘with encouragement, by urging’
+sankik raktsisa ṣam[ā]nentse ~ eñatketse mā ceppi[l]l[e] mā wsaṣṣälle ‘on the mat of a monk belonging to the community [one is] not to step or to sleep without encouragement’ (H-149.X.4a1/2 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎The emphasizing prefix e(n)- + and adjectival derivative of nätk- ‘urge,’ q.v. +See also ñatke. +

+ + +
+

+eñcare +(adj.) +‘disagreeable, unfriendly’
+[eñcare, -, eñcareṃ//] +lareṃ weṃ no mā eñcareṃ ‘[if] one speaks a friendly word, then not an unfriendly [one]’ [eñcareṃ = BHS apriyam] (20a8), ciñcareṃ eñcareṃ mā eñcareṃpa [corrected to eñcareṃ] sparśmeṃ tetemu = BHS iṣṭo ni ṣṭobhayaviparitasparśayoni (197b2), totteṃ wäntaresa ... Arṇyārtate eñcare maṣaṃn-me ‘by this extreme circumstance A. causes us unpleasantness’ (DAM-507-a10 [Pinault, 1984a:27]). +∎TchA eñcare ‘id.’ is borrowed from B. The B form is by haplology from *eñcäñcare with the negative prefix e(n)- + cäñcare, qq.v. (Lane, 1938:36-7, VW:180). Winter (1980[81]:126-127) connects this word with TchA aṃśär which is usually translated as ‘heavy’ or the like. Even if that translation is incorrect, a connection with eñcare raises formidable phonological difficulties. Why not *eñśär like A es is to B āntse ‘shoulder’? (Cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:180-181.) +

+ + +
+

+eñcäl ~ eñcil +only in the phrase eñcäl tā- ‘hold fast’ (?)
+[-, -, eñcäl//] +se timirä śaiṣṣentse san empelle añmäntse orkämñana nraintane yāmor eñcäl tāṣän-ne (255a5/6), /// ñem eñcil n[o] tāsi yātkast[a] ‘thou hast ordered ... to hold fast to the name’ [?] (495a1). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning (suggested by Thomas, 1957:148), then eñcäl must be a deverbative noun from enk- ‘take, grasp,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+eñcuwo ~ iñcuwo +(n.) +‘iron’
+[eñcuwo ~ iñcuwo, -, -//] +(255b2, 520b6). + -- eñcuwaññe ~ iñcuwaññe ‘prtng to iron’: laursa eñcwaññe tarne räskre tsopyeṃ-ne ‘with an iron bar they pierced his skull roughly’ (22b5), eñcuwañe kentse ‘rust’ (W-31b1). +∎TchA *añcu (id.) (attested in the derived adjective añcwāṣi) and B eñcuwo (iñcuwo is variant on the same order as inte is to ente, q.v.) reflect PTch *eñcuwo. Further connections are uncertain. Schwarz (1974:409) compares Ossetic ändon ‘steel’ or Chorasmian hnčw ‘id.’ and suggests that the Iranian and Tocharian words might be borrowings from some adstratum language in the shape ± *anśuwan. Not with VW (146) the intensive prefix e(n)- + some derivative of PIE *ǵ^heu- ‘pour.’ +

+ + +
+

+eñwetstse +(adv.) +‘anew’
+kreñc no c[ai po] kr[e]ntäṃne śarsäskeṃ-ne eñw[et]sts[e] ‘for the good [buddhas] are making [it] known anew to all the good’ (5b1). +∎The emphasizing prefix e(n)- + ñu ‘new,’ qq.v., + the adjective forming -tstse (cf. Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:175). +

+ + +
+

+etankätte +(adj.) +‘unchecked, unhindered’
+[etankätte, -, -//] += BHS apratibaddha {7a4}, Gabain/Winter:12 ([in Manichean script] ’yt’ngk’ntyy [sic]). +∎The privative of tänk-, ‘hinder, check,’ q.v. Cf. TchA atänkät (and see Hilmarsson, 1991:96-97). +

+ + +
+

+ette (~ etteṃ) +(a) (adv.); (b) ([indeclinable] adj.) +(a) ‘down’ [etteś ‘downward’]; (b) ‘lower’
+(a) kauc ette kluttankentär toṃ pwenta cākr ente spārtaṃ ... toṃ kluttankentär kaucmeṃ n_änok etteś ‘up and down turn the spokes if the wheel turns; they turn from up unto down’ (30b6/7), p[i]ś-känt=etteś kw[ärsarwa] ‘five hundred leagues downward’ (45b2), kālpsa painemeṃ ette kloyomane ‘falling down on [his] face’ (88a2), parso ette paiyka ‘he wrote down a letter’ (492a2); +
+(b) ṣpärkeṃ ette cmelne tmaskenträ ‘they dissolve and are reborn in a lower birth’ (k-7b3). + -- ettesa ‘under’: vidyādhare ettesa paiyne etswai pinkalle ‘a vidyādhara [is] to be painted opposite, under the feet’ (M-3a4). +∎Etymology unknown. Probably not related to PTch āñc ‘id.’ pace VW (163), MA (611). +

+ + +
+

+etrīwaitstse* +(n.) +‘± containing a mixture’
+[f: //-, etriwaitstsānaṃts, -] +weñau ... krenta yolainaṃts etrīwaitstsānaṃts rano ‘I will speak of good [deeds] and evil together with those mixed together’ (K-2a4/5). +∎An adjective which looks to be derived from an unattested noun *trīwo, a doublet of the attested traiwo, itself derived from the verb triw- (see Pinault, 1989: 193, 217 fn. 18, and Hilmarsson, 1991:178). +See also triw- and traiwo. +

+ + +
+

+Etriṣe* +‘Etriṣe’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Etriṣi, -//] +(490a-II-4). +

+ + +
+

+etre +(n.) +‘hero’
+[etre, -, -//etri, -, etreṃ] +brāhmaṇi mā lāñc wrocci mā etri ‘[no] brahmans, no great kings, no heroes’ (46b4), śrāy wetāñco etri ‘old men, warriors, heroes’ (47a8). + -- etrauññe* ‘heroic’ (274b2). +∎TchA atär ‘id.’ and B etre reflect PTch *etre whose further connections are unclear. It seems possible to take this *etre to be from PIE *h_aot-ro- and related to TchA ātäl ‘man’ which would then be from *h_aet-lo-. It is likely that this *h_aetlo- is in turn cognate with Greek atalós ‘tender, delicate’ (of children and adolescents), atállō ‘skip about youthfully, gambol; bring up a child, rear, foster’ (this latter meaning may be a different word related to PIE *atta ‘father’ and only secondarily associated with ‘gambol’). The notions of ‘hero’ or ‘man’ are often derived from ‘be active’ ‘have youthful strength’ and the like (Adams, 1987b). Winter (1971, following a suggestion of Bailey's) suggests that *etre is an early borrowing from an Iranian *atara-. Not with VW (152) a compound of the intensive prefix e(n)- + something like Sanskrit turá- ‘strong, powerful.’ Such a preform should have given A *otär, B *otre. +

+ + +
+

+etrenkätte +(adj.) +‘not sticking to, unattached’
+[etrenkätte, -, etrenkäcce//etrenkäcci, -, -] +(248a3). +∎The privative of trenk- ‘adhere, stick to,’ q.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:98). +

+ + +
+

+en- +(vt.) +‘instruct’
+Ps. IXa /enäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, enästär//-, -, enäskentär; MPImpf. -, -, enäṣṣitär; APart. enäṣṣeñca; MPPart. enäskemane; Ger. enäṣṣälle*]; Ko. IXa (= Ps.): (see abstract); Pt. IV /enäṣṣā-/ [MP -, -, enäṣṣate//-, -, enäṣṣante] +enäṣṣitär lwāsa su aksaṣṣi-me pel[aikne] ‘he instructed the animals and annnounced to them the law’ (575a2); tumeṃ lyama asānne enṣṣate-me ‘then he sat on [his] seat and instructed them’ (12b3). + -- enäṣṣälñe ‘instruction, teaching’: ysomo sankantse ra reki mā=ṅsate sam m[ā] ra ñy enäṣlyñe ‘he did not take the word of the united community; likewise he [did] not [grasp] my teaching’ (42a7), ñakt[e]ntse en[äṣ]lñene = BHS buddhaśāsana (U-11b1); +
+enäṣṣälñeṣṣe ‘prtng to instruction’: enäṣṣälñ[eṣṣe] = BHS anuśāsani (527b2). +∎Etymology unclear. TchB en- is clearly related to A en- ‘id.’ but the details of that relationship are unclear. They cannot both reflect any PTch antecedent; one must be borrowed from the other but the direction of the borrowing is not self-evident. VW (177-178, following Bailey, 1957:41; also Puhvel, 1984:62) assumes that the B word is borrowed from A and the antecedent PTch *ain- is related to Greek aînos ‘tale, story; decree,’ ainéō ‘tell, speak; praise; glorify [god],’ Middle Irish óeth (m.) ‘oath,’ Gothic aiþs (m.) ‘id.’ (added to the Greek words by Pokorny [11]), and Avestan aēþra- ‘instruction’ (added by Bailey and VW). Puhvel (1984:271) would add Hittite enant- ‘tame(d)’ (< *ain-ant-, taking the *ain- underlying Hittite, Greek, and Tocharian to be ‘be agreeable.’ (The Hittite enant- might just as easily be an extended adjective in -ant- as a participle [Melchert, p.c.].) +
+If the borrowing is from B to A (a far more common occurrence), then PTch *en- might be related to Hittite annanu- ‘train (of both craftsmen and animals)’ (Krause, 1960:57). Since the Tocharian word is attested only in the causative and since Hittite annanu- is the causative of anniya- ‘carry out, execute,’ Melchert suggests (p.c.) that the PTch *enäsk- might be the remade causative of the moneō type. That is, it would represent a virtual *h₁onh_xeye/o- (MA:87). The second laryngeal is required to explain the geminate -nn- in Hittite and the lack of lengthening in the first syllable of Sanskrit anas- ‘burden.’ Not related to Hittite hanna- ‘judge’ whose meaning is too distant. +

+ + +
+

+e(n)-¹ +an intensifying prefix +‣For a discussion of the form see the following entry. With the vowel e- we have: ekalymi, enkatkre, enkaucar, eñatketstse, eñwetstse, etrīwaitstse, enerke, enestai, enmetre?, epinkte?, eprete, eplyuwai, emalle?, emparkre, -emprukṣai, eraitwe, elauke, eweta, eśatkai, eṣe, eṣerñe, etsarkälle and etsuwai. With the vowel ā- (when unstressed, written <a>) we have: anaiśai, ankānmi?, ankāre?, ankaiṃ apākärtse, apākśai, aplāc, amāsko, ayāto, aṣkār. With ai- (< *ei-) we have: aikne and aiksnar. With the vowel o- we have: onkarño?, onkor?, ompalsko(ññe), ompostäṃ, omotruññaiṣṣe?, omprotärtstse, orkäntai?, ośonai, oṣṣäle?. +∎TchA a(n)- and B e(n)- reflect PTch *e(n)-. It was originally a locative prefix meaning ‘± in’ (and certain forms which contain it still have traces of that meaning remaining, cf. eṣe ‘together,’ i.e. ‘in one’) from PIE *h₁ṇ- or *h₁on- (or both) and related to B yn- ‘in’ from PIE *h₁en. See also Hilmarsson, 1991. +See More s.v. eneṃ. +

+ + +
+

+e(n)-² +(negative prefix) +‘un-, in-’
+‣Like the homophonous intensifying prefix (see previous entry), the vowel of the negative prefix is e-, ā- (when followed in the next syllable by an -ā-) or o- (when followed in the next syllable by an -o- or, occasionally, when followed by a labial, e.g. ompakwättäññe). When and where we find the -n- is less clear. It always occurs before vowels and before labials (as -m-) but sometimes occurs and sometimes does not before dentals and velars. It seems likely the nasalless variant arose before sibilants and perhaps by dissimilation in words with a closely following -n- (as in aknātsa) but, in any case, both the variant with and the variant without the nasal have been extended into each other's territory. Otherwise, Hilmarsson, 1991. With the vowel e- we have: ekatkatte, ekamätte, ekalätte, ekwalatte, enkarstatte, enkalpatte, enklyauṣätte, eñcare, etankätte, etrenkätte, enersänk, empakwatte, empalkaitte, empelye, eśuwatte, eṣpirtatte. With the vowel ā (when unstressed, written <a>) we have: akākatte, akaukatte, aknātsa, akraupatte, anklautkatte, atākatte, atāmo, atraikatte, anākätte, anāyätte, anaikte, anaiwatstse, anautatte, apāṣṣätte, amāntatte, amāllatte, amaukatte, amplākätte, ayātaitstse, ayāmätte, alālätte, awāskatte, awlāwätte, aspāwatte. With the vowel ai- (< *e-yä-) we have: aikatte, aitkatte, airpätte and aiskatte. With the vowel o- we have onkipṣe, onkrotte, onuwaññe, ontsoytte, ompakwättäññe. +∎TchA a(n)- and B e(n)- reflect PTch e(n)- from PIE *ṇ- [: Sanskrit a- ~ an- (before vowels), Avestan a- ~ an- (before vowels), Greek a- ~ an- (before vowels), Latin in-, Gothic un-, Old Irish in- ~ e- ~ an-, etc., all ‘un-’ (P:757-758; MA:395)] (VW:156-157, with differing details). See also Hilmarsson, 1991. +

+ + +
+

+en(-)e- +‘?’
+ ///y^.sāmnt rā pilke ene ̇e/// (340b7). +

+ + +
+

+eneṃ +(adv.) +‘within, herein’ [enenmeṃ ‘(from) within’]
+taiknesa rano tane enenmeṃ sā_u tsänkausa śkwarya tākaṃ ‘thuswise as if a liana has grown here from within’ (11a8), pūwar tr[e]m[eṃ]ṣṣe sälpī-n= enenmeṃ ‘the fire of anger burned within him’ (350a2), śwātsi yoktsi eneṃ taṣalle ‘[one is] to put food and drink within’ (M-3b2). +∎TchA ane (or with secondary gemination anne) and B eneṃ reflect PTch *ene- plus either *-i (so TchA) or *-n (so TchB). The same *-n may be to seen in the variant omteṃ ‘there’ beside the more frequent omte, q.v. PTch *ene is preserved in enepre (A anapär) and eneśle, qq.v., and in the locative ending B -ne, A -ṃ (with aphaeresis of the initial vowel). That *ene is from the widespread family of PIE *h₁en ‘in’ (cf. P:311-314) cannot be doubted (Lane, 1938:31; VW:144-145; MA:290). The exact connection is unclear since *ene appears to reflect a PIE *h₁on-, an ablaut grade otherwise found only in Slavic on- (cf. on-ušta ‘footware’ or ǫ-dolь ‘valley’). Perhaps the Tocharian represents a PIE *h₁on-do. +See also enenka, enepre, eneśle, enestai, -ne¹, nes-, and yn-. +

+ + +
+

+enenka +(adv.) +‘within, herein, among’
+[enenkāmeṃ ‘from within’] +enenkaś paspārtau cwi maim palskw attsaik ‘completely inward [have] turned his thought and spirit’ (41a2), troṅne enenka ‘within the hollow’ (46b5), lwasā=nenkā ‘among the animals’ (588a4), enenkā[meṃ] indrinta pärnāṃñanan viṣain[ta] karsoym auspa ‘may I know better the sense-organs from within and the external sense-objects!’ (S-5b4). + -- enenkāññe* ‘internal’ (181b3). +∎eneṃ + the intensifying particle ka, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+enepre +(adv.-postposition) +‘before, in front of’
+śama=nepre poyśintse ‘she stood before the Buddha’ (18b8), yāmṣate ñiśś erkatte lyautsa-ñ päst ṣañ ypoymeṃ wertsaints=enepre [sic] ‘he treated me badly and exiled me from his land before the assembly’ (81a3), tākaṃ yokaitse kr_ui pākri mäsketär-ne yoktsi enepre ‘if he is thirsty, drink appears before him’ (K-10b2). +∎TchA anapär and B enepre reflect PTch *enepre, a compound of *ene (see eneṃ) and *pre (from PIE *pro). Cf. VW, 1971d: 452-3, 1976:144 and, for *pre, P:813-815). +

+ + +
+

+enerke +(adv.) +‘± hesitatingly’
+(K-T). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + nerke, qq.v. (Hilmarsson, 1991:173). +

+ + +
+

+enersank +(adv.) +‘± inadvertently, carelessly’
+mäkte tärrek eṅwe yesti nāskoy enersänk ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘as a blind man eating [his] meal, carelessly allowing it to fall into the maternal hearth, it would burn up’ (154b3), [Utta]re mäñ[c]uṣke enersänk l[kāskemane] ‘prince U. looking on carelessly’ (PK-NS-355b3 [Couvreur, 1964:240]). +∎The negative prefix e(n)- + ersänk, qq.v. (Hilmarsson, 1991:181). +

+ + +
+

+eneśle +(postposition [with the comitative]) +‘like’
+[e]neś[l]e = BHS samau (16a4), päls[k]osa erwts=etrenkätte [sic] cimpā= neśle takoy [n]ta ‘may he be broad of spirit and unencumbered like thee’ (248a3), mā nesäṃ pilkontampa eneśle sām = BHS nāsti dṛṣṭisamo ripu (251a2), Kankcene [lege: Kank-ckene] waräñcampa eneśle pañäkti epiyaṃc [sic] kälaṣälyi ‘like the sands of the Ganges River buddhas [are] to be remembered’ (552b1/2). + -- eneślentse ‘?’: /// [śpā]lmeṃ śaumontse ṣek temai [lege: temeṃ] - eneślentse wräntsai welläññentse (258a3). +∎ene- (see eneṃ) + śle ‘with.’ +

+ + +
+

+enestai +(adv.) +‘in secret, secretly’
+kwri cau kallaṃ naumiye tukäskenträ enestai ‘if they find this jewel, they hide it secretly’ (231b3/4), enestai = BHS rahasi (U-15a3). +∎Probably from *ene ‘in’ (see eneṃ) plus *stāy(ä) ‘± secret’ [: Sanskrit stāyát ‘secretly,’ stāyú- ‘thief’ and, a bit more distantly in Sanskrit tāyú-, Avestan tāyu- ‘thief,’ OCS taj ‘secretly,’ tajǫ ‘hide, dissimulate,’ tatь ‘thief,’ Hittite tāya- ‘steal,’ etc., all from PIE *(s)teh_a(y)- (P:1010) (Melchert reconstructs *(s)teh₂-ye/o- *(s)teh₂-yu- [1984:39])] (VW, 1971d:452, 1976:178-179; MA:543 [starting from *(s)teh₄-]). Hilmarsson (1991:173-174) takes it, on the other hand, to be *e(n)- + a Tocharian cognate of Greek nóstos ‘homecoming’ (< *nes-, see s.v. nes-), comparing for the semantics German heimlich ‘secret’ (adj.) and Geheimnis ‘secret’ (noun). +See also eneṃ. +

+ + +
+

+enaiwaññe +See anaiwaññe. +

+ + +
+

+ente +(conj./interrogative adverb) +(a) ‘where’; (b) ‘when’; (c) ‘when?’; (d) ‘if, whenever’
+(a) [e]pyac klāṣle ente tem[e]ñ stamäṣle ‘he [is] to remember where [he is] therefore to stand’ (10b6), māka omp snūnma ent=ākn[atsañ yama]skenträ ‘many dangers there [are] where fools are at work’ (44a6/7), ente tetriku se śaiṣṣe = BHS yatra mūḍham idaṃ jagat (148a4); +
+(b) ente śaul cwy āraṃ ‘when his life shall cease’ (29b7), kauc ette kluttankentär toṃ pwenta cākr ente spārtaṃ ‘the spokes revolve high and low when the wheel turns’ (30b6), ṣañ mäskelye yakene ente maitare aklyaṣlyeṃ po eṣe kraupäṣṣare ‘when they had come to their proper place, they gathered together all of the disciples’ (108a3); +
+(c) ente ṣ kallau tu lkātsi ‘and when will I get to see it [again]?’ (46a5= 47b2); +
+(d) ente se kr[e]ntaunatts[e] Sunetre wal[o] p[a]ñ[ä]kt[e] śaiṣṣen[e] tsānkaṃ ot cwi sp[aktanīki alā]läcci tākam ‘if the virtuous king S. arises [as] a buddha in the world, then we will be his tireless servants’ (77a1/2), ente palsko tsānkaṃne ot śwātsi yoktsi kälpāṣäṃ ‘whenever the spirit arises in him, then he finds food and drink’ (M-3b2/3). +∎TchB ente ~ inte is obviously related to A äntan(n)ene ‘where’ and äntāne ‘when.’ They would all appear to reflect a PTch *ente (with the initial vowel weakened in this unstressed word in inte and änt- and with various added suffixes in A. VW (173-174) leaves this group largely unetymologized but surely we have here the adverbial relative of B intsu ‘what (kind of),’ just as the adverbial relative mäkte ‘as, how’ is to mäksū ‘who, what.’ B ente ~ inte must reflect a PTch *ente ~ *änte where the *-te must be from PIE ablative *-tō(d), just as mäkte must be (as if) from *men-k^wu-tō(d) or k_use ‘who, what’ (both relative an interrogative), q.v., a collocation of a frozen form of the relative *k^wi- or *k^wu- + se and mäksu ‘who, what’ (both relative and interrogative), q.v., a collocation on PIE *men- + *k^wi-/k^wu- + sū. PTch *änä- must be an unstressed variant of *enä- and the later a frozen form of the demonstrative pronoun (here used as a relative as sometimes in Greek). +See More s.v. intsu; see also entwe. +

+ + +
+

+entwe +(conj.) +‘then, thereupon’
+sw [a]śrāddhe sruka=ntweṃ nrain-empelye [lege: sruka=ntwe nnrain= empelye] temtsate ‘this unbeliever died and thereupon was reborn in a terrible hell’ (4a6), srukās entwe āṃtpi piś-känte cmelane kauṣträ ālyauce ‘then you both die; in five hundred births you kill one another’ (42a3). + -- entwek ‘id.’: entwek āyor mā wasa ‘he did not, then, give a gift’ (49b2); +
+entwecce ‘± local’ (?) [cf. Greek enthádios and énthinos]: waste nta mā - - [sä]lyai kalymi entwecce mā aikemar (408b7); +
+entweññe* ‘?’: tusa entweñana paramānunta ṣkas /// (193b2). +∎Though related to TchA antuṣ ‘id.’ the details of that relationship and any extra-Tocharian connections are unclear. I take entwe and antuṣ to reflect PTch *entu, enlarged independently in the two languages by different particles. The *entu is a putative PIE *h₁onVtō(d) + *u where *h₁onVtō(d) is the relative pronoun that eventuated in B ente, q.v. and *u is the particle commonly found following the resumptive demonstrative pronoun in the clause correlated with the relative one. Thus we would have *h₁onVtō(d) .... h₁onVtō(d) + u, with *h₁onVtō(d) as both relative and demonstrative just as its Greek cognate éntha (with én- in an ablaut relationship to the pre-Tocharian *on- and -tha represents an old locative particle) ‘where, when’ and ‘there, then.’ The construction as a whole is just as we have *k^wusó (‘who’) .... *so + u (‘he’). (See k_use and sū. One might also compare Attic enteûthen, Ionic entheûten from *enthe + u + -then.) VW (1941:20, 1976:145-146) is also possibly right in connecting these Tocharian words with Germanic *anda ~ *unda ‘and’ (English and, German und) from *h₁ondha ~ *h₁ṇdha (but only for the first part, as the Germanic *-d- must reflect some sort of locative particle as in Greek éntha). +See also ente and intsu. +

+ + +
+

+enmetre +(n.) +‘± bark’
+[enmetre, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients: [] palāṣṣai wtsiko enmetre [] (500a8). +‣In his discussion of the passage where this hapax legomenon occurs, Maue (1990) takes enmetre as a separate item in the formula, unmatched by anything in either the BHS or Khotanese equivalents. However, the three versions of this medical recipe are otherwise identical. Thus, I take enmetre to be part of the phrase palāṣṣai wtsiko [= witsako] enmetre and the equivalent of the corresponding single word bālā of bāla in BHS or the bela of the Khotanese. (One should note that BHS bālā and Khotanese bela do not refer to the same plant. BHS bālā is ‘Pavonia odorata Willd.’ [and the equivalent of Khotanese bilva] while Khotanese bela is ‘Aegle marmelos Corr.’ [the equivalent of BHS bila!]. Clearly there is potential TchB enmetre must be a specific part of this plant or, more particularly, of its root. The internal structure of the phrase must be [[palāṣṣai wtsiko] enmetre] ‘the enmetre of the palā-root.’ One of the medically significant portions of A. marmelos is its root-bark (Chopra, 1956:8). Thus enmetre is likely to be ‘bark.’ (Even if we do not have A. marmelos here, the only part of the root that is likely to get a special designation is its bark, thus enmetre must be ‘bark’ in any event.) +∎Morphologically enmetre must be enm-e-tre (-e- = the thematic vowel, -tre = the ‘tool’ suffix [< PIE *-tro- or *-dhro-] as in śātre [< *śāwetre] ‘grain’ [< *‘Lebensmittel’] from śāw- ‘live’ or tsarātre ‘extract’ from tsär- ‘separate’). If the order -nm- is original, we might have *e-nm- with the prefix *h₁ṇ- plus either *nm- or *Tm-. The obvious choice would seem to be *h₁ṇtm(h₁)- ‘cut in’ [: Greek támnō (only Attic témnō) ‘cut,’ tmẽsis ‘cutting,’ téndō ‘gnaw (at)’ (< *tem-de/o-), ténthō ‘id.’ (< *tem-d^he/o-), Latin tondeō ‘shave, shear, clip; mow, prune, reap; browse (on), crop,’ templum ‘temple’ (< ‘consecrated ground’ < ‘space marked out [= cut off] by the augurs for the auspices’), Lithuanian tinù (tìnti) ‘whet’ (< *tem-ne/o-), Old Russian tьnu ‘strike’ (P:1062-3)]. Thus *h₁ṇtm(h₁)-o-tro- would be ‘material for cutting in,’ i.e. ‘writing material.’ An obvious extra-Tocharian cognate would be Greek entémnō which, among other meanings is ‘engrave, inscribe.’ Other verbs for writing derived ultimately from the notion of cutting or scratching (on a surface) are of course Latin scrībere, Greek gráphō (cf. English carve), and write itself (cf. German reissen ‘tear, rip, rend, slit’). Bark would seem to have been the preferred medium of symbolic representation in much of prehistoric Europe. Witness the history of book and its Germanic cognates (from *b^heh_aǵos ‘beech’ since be ch-bark was the preferred medium of writing) or consider the polysemy of Latin liber, both ‘inner bark of a tree’ and ‘book.’ A pre-Tocharian *h₁ṇtm(h₁)-o-tro- ‘engraving material’ would be very much in the same tradition. +See also lasto. +

+ + +
+

+enmer +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[enmer, -, -//] +(W-40a5). +

+ + +
+

+enmelya* +(nf.) +a species of plant?
+[-, enmelyantse, -//] +arkwaññai enmelyantse wākte (W-2a3/4). +

+ + +
+

+entse +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘greed, envy’
+[entse, -, entse//] +tanāpatentse ostwasa ekñintasa entseño mäntañyentär ṣemi ‘some became evil-minded out of envy for benefactors, houses, and possessions’ (31b7), entsesa attsaik eśne wawālaṣ ‘through greed [are their] eyes completely covered’ (K-6a2). + -- entseṣṣe ‘greedy, envious’ (K-6a4) +∎TchB entse and A eṃts ‘id.’ are clearly related. VW (1968:65-6, 1976:180) takes the A word to be a borrowing from B and for the B word to reflect a putative PIE *h₁onḱtyo-, a derivative *h₁onḱ- ‘take, grasp’ (B enk-, q.v.). Hilmarsson (1986a:282) prefers to consider the A word an inherited cognate of B entse, both from PTch *enkse reflecting a putative PIE *h₂onǵ^h-s-o- (for the type, see Adams, 1985c), a derivative of *h₂énǵ^hos (nt.) [: Sanskrit aṃhas- ‘fear, anxiety; constriction,’ Avestan ązah- ‘need, trouble,’ Old Norse angr ‘grief, sorrow; repentance’] or *h₂énǵ^hōs (m.) [: Latin angor ‘anguish, compression of the throat’]. With other extensions of *h₂énǵ^hos we have OCS ǫzostь ‘narrowing,’ Lithuanian añkštas ‘narrow,’ and OHG angust ‘fear.’ All of these of course are derivatives of what is normally reconstructed as *h₂enǵ^h- ‘be narrow’ [: Greek ánkhō ‘tie up, make tight, constrict, strangle,’ Latin angō ‘id.’ (P:42-43)]. Puhvel (1991:67-68) starts from a *h₂em-ǵ^h- which, with a nasal-infix present, gave 3rd. sg. *h₂ṃné-ǵ^h-ti-, 3rd. pl. *h₂ṃmṇǵ^hṇti. Such forms would have given pre-Hittite *hamnekzi, hamankanzi from which we have by analogical spread of the -n-, the actual Hittite paradigm ham(m)enk- ~ ham(m)ank- ‘tie; betroth.’ +See also entsesse and possibly enk-. +

+ + +
+

+entsesse +(adj.) +‘envious, greedy’
+[entsesse, -, -//] +Priyadeve ñemttsa śreṣṭhi ṣey eśatkai śāte ekaññetstse olyapotstse sa [lege: su] no entsesse ‘there was a merchant, P. by name; [he was] very rich an full of possessions; however [he was] envious’ (375a4). + -- entsesñe ‘greed,’ only in the adjective: entsesñeṣṣe ‘± envious, greedy’: entsesñeṣṣe sananämpa mā [palsko tär]koṣ [wräntär] (K-5b5). +∎An adjectival derivative of entse, q.v. For the formation, see Winter (1979). +

+ + +
+

+epastye +(adj.) +‘skillful, adept, capable, able’
+[m: epastye, -, - (voc. epastyu)//epastyi, -, -] +Gānkne olyitau nes twe epastya [lege: epastye] ‘thou art a skillful boatman on the Ganges’ (296b3), sū no weṃtsi epastye ṣey ‘he was, however, able to speak’ (PK-AS-18B-a1 [Pinault, 1984b:376]). + -- epastyaññe ‘skill, aptitude’ (K-2a4). +∎Related to TchA opäśśi ‘id.’ in that we must have PTch *epäst- (a noun) plus an adjective-forming *-ye- either with palatalization (as in TchA) or without (as in B). VW (339) rates this etymon as "inexpliqué" but Hilmarsson (1986:203 and 1989d:112) is surely right in seeing here an old compound of *h₁opi- ‘upon, near’ + *steh₂- ‘stand.’ He takes it to be an old adjectival u-stem, i.e. *h₁opi-sth₂-u-, similar in construction to Lithuanian apstùs ‘plentiful’ (which might, at least, be itself from *h₁op- [a variant of *h₁opi without the *-i] + *-sth₂-u-), atstùs ‘distant,’ Sanskrit anuṣṭhú- ‘properly, correctly, really,’ suṣṭhú- ‘aptly.’ Perhaps instead we have the corresponding abstract noun *h₁opi-sth₂-i- which in various parts of its paradigm would have given PTch *epäst- ~ *epäśc-, whence the B epastye and A opäśśi (cf. the similar variation within B of krostaññe and kroścaññe ‘coldness’ from krośce ‘cold’). For the semantics, compare Greek epístasis (*h₁epi-sth₂-ti-), among whose meanings are ‘diligence, attention, care,’ all close to ‘skill, aptitude.’ Not with Sapir (1936:179) related to Latin opus ‘work’ nor with Pisani (Reale Istituto Lombardo di Scienze e Lettere 76:23 [1942-43] apud VW) to Latin aptus (which would surely have given PTch *āp-). +

+ + +
+

+epi +‘?’
+/// [vip]ākajä akṣepit yamaṣäṃ [] epī [sic] alloykna rano ṣpä pelaiknenta /// (200a1). +∎A miswriting of epe ‘or’? +

+ + +
+

+epinkte +(a-c) (adv.-postposition); (d) (n.) +(a) ‘within; between, among’; (b) (with nouns denoting periods of time) ‘for’; (c) [te epinkte (t=epinkte) ~ epinktene ‘meanwhile, in the meantime’]; (d) ‘± interval’
+(a) wrotsana ckenta kaumaiño samudtärnta kätkron=epinkte kaunts= osonträ ‘the great rivers and deep seas between are dried up by the sun’ (45b7), pakaccāṃne kattākeṃ epinkte lämās ‘in the rainy season you sat among the householders’ (331a5), eśane epinkte pärwāne wat no lupṣale ‘[it is] to smeared between the eyes or on the brows’ (M-3b5); +
+(b) walw alokälymi lyama ṣuk-kauṃ epiṅte ‘the king sat, directed toward a single goal, for a week’ (22a6), känte pikwala epinkte ‘for a hundred years’ (407b1); +
+(c) t=epiṅte sak wī[na] w[ä]rpāt[ai] ‘in the meantime thou didst enjoy good fortune and pleasure’ (78b3/4), teṃ epinkte bodhisatve ... kārpa ‘in the interval the bodhisatva descended’ (107b4); +
+(d) snai epinkte bramñikte kārpa ‘without an interval the brahma-god descended’ (107a8). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (1941:21, 1976:180-181) suggests that we have here the TchB intensive prefix e(n)- + PIE *b^h(e)ng- ‘break’ (< *b^he(n)g- ‘break,’ more s.v. pkante) + an adjective-forming -to-. Winter (apud Hilmarsson, 1986:55 and 1989b:112), adding TchA opänt- ‘in the middle,’ assumes the same intensive prefix e(n)- + PTch *pänkte ‘fifth’ (< PIE *penkto-), as the ‘fifth region’ (after the four cardinal directions). Neither suggestion carries conviction. +

+ + +
+

+epiyac +(n.) +‘± memory,’ only attested in the phrasal verbs (a) epiyace käl- ‘remember, recall’ and (b) epiyac yām- ‘cause to remember, recall to someone’
+(a) ykāk ñiś kälāstär epyac poyśy añmālaṃṣke ‘still the merciful Buddha remembers me’ (22b8), tu epiyāc klormeṃ = BHS tat saṃsmṛtya (251a3), artsa [kauṃ epi]yac kalalyñeṣe yakne ‘the way of remembering each day’ (552a3); +
+(b) krentauna epiyac yamastär-n[e] ‘he has him recall virtues’ (522a1). + -- epyacäññe ‘souvenir, memento’: /// Yasodharañ suknaṃ weṣṣan-neś ṣarya ce hār saswe epiyacäññe lywā-c ‘he gave [it] to Y; he says to her: beloved, the lord sent this necklace to thee [as] a memento’ (PK-AS15-Cb4 [Pinault, 1989:189]). +∎TchA opyāc ‘id.’ and B epiyac reflect a PTch *epiyāc presumably from a Middle Iranian source similar to Pahlavi aβyāt, Turfan Pahlavi ’by’d, Khotanese byāta- (Hansen, 1940:151, Bailey, 1967:260, VW:634). Hilmarsson (1986:56 and 1989b) reconstructs a Middle Iranian *abiyāti- thought there is no direct Iranian evidence for an i-stem. We must assume, I think, that a Middle Iranian *abiyāta- was borrowed as *epiyāt sufficiently early that it was assigned to the Tocharian reflexes of PIE ti-stems which had a productive alternation of stem final -t ~ -c, whence the accusative singular *epiyāc reflected in B epiyac, A opyāc. +

+ + +
+

+epe +(conj.) +‘or; otherwise’
+mai ñi tākaṃ laitalñe wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe | epe wat no śaulantse ñyātse ñi ste nesalle [epe wat no = BHS athavāpi] ‘will there be a falling by me from the royal throne? or is there to be to me a danger to [my] life?’ (5a4), se ñisa śpālmeṃ rṣāke tākaṃ cwi aiścer epe tuwak ñi aiścer ‘[if] this seer is better than I, give [it] to him; otherwise, give it to me’ (107b1), lwāsane wat no pret[e]nne wat tänmaskenträ epe yñakteṃ yśām[na] wat ‘they are [re-]born among animals or pretas or among gods or men’ (K-7a5). +∎Etymology obscure. TchA also has epe ‘or’ and it is to be presumed that it is a borrowing from B (so VW:180). VW takes B to reflect a PIE *h₁o-wē where the -wē is the PIE *wē see in Sanskrit vā, etc., and the *h₁o- is a pronominal stem. Aside from the difficulties of formation, a *h₁owē should have give B *eye and certainly not epe. +

+ + +
+

+eprete* +(adj.) +‘resolute’
+[(voc. epreta)//-, -, epreteṃ] +aräñcaccu epreta (241a2). + -- epretäññe ‘resolution, fixity of purpose’ (46a3). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + *prete ‘± decision, resolution,’ the unattested B counterpart of A pratim (the latter borrowed in B as pratiṃ, q.v.). See VW:386 and Hilmarsson, 1991: 176-177. +

+ + +
+

+eprer* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘atmosphere, sky, firmament’
+[-, -, eprer//] +keṃtsa eprerne wat = BHS avanau gatane [lege: gagane] vā (195a4). +∎TchA shows the obviously related eprer ‘id.’ and beside eprer in B is the synomymous iprer. Further relations are unknown. Certainly not with VW (181) from PIE *per- ‘point.’ Other proposed connections, a borrowing from Middle Iranian aβra- ‘cloud,’ or a relationship with Breton ebr ‘heaven’ founder either phonologically or morphologically (whence the final -r?), or both. +See also iprer. +

+ + +
+

+eplyuwai +(adv.) +‘swimming’
+śtwara tasanmane ite ite motä-yokaiṃ taṣalle eplyuwai yasarne śätkaroṃ pāline taṣallona ‘[one is] to place those thirsty for alcohol on four very full containers; leeches swimming [= marinated?] in blood [are] to be placed in a row’ (M-3a4). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + -plyuwai, originally the accusative singular of a verbal noun (in PIE guise) *pleweh_a-h₁en-, a derivative of *pleu- ‘float’ (Hilmarsson, 1991:176). +See also plu-, and plew-. +

+ + +
+

+emañña +‘?’
+///ṣek mā ṣp emañña lkoyentär-ñ po saṃsārne (S-2b6), cwī yāmorntse okosa s=ākālk kñītär-ñ | kos ṣpä spārttoym saṃsārn[e] tremi kleś ñiś emañña mā lkoyent[rä] (S-5a6). +

+ + +
+

+emalle +(adj.) +‘hot, warm’ ; (n.) ‘heat’
+[m: emalle, -, emalye ~ emalle//] +emalyesa tsetsarkoṣ memyoṣ yokaisa ‘tortured by heat, deluded by thirst’ (29a6), mit śeśuwermeṃ emalle war ma yokalle ‘having eaten honey, [one is] not to drink hot water’ (ST-b3). +∎TchA omäl ‘id.’ and B emalle reflect PTch *emäl(y)e- and Hilmarsson (1986:57 and 1989b:123) is probably right in seeing here a putative PIE *ṇmel-(y)o- with the intensive prefix (see ¹e(n)-) plus *mel- ‘oppress.’ He notes Icelandic mella ‘oppressive heat with no wind blowing,’ molla ‘be warm; to cook slowly,’ malla ‘cook slowly.’ It is possible that the *mel- here is not the widespread one meaning ‘oppress’ (see s.v. ¹mäl-) but a different one, preserved only in Germanic and Tocharian, meaning ‘heat.’ Not with VW (1962:604-5, 1976:634) a borrowing from some northeastern Asiatic language or with Čop (1955:30-1) related to Hittite hamesha ‘spring [season]’ (from a proposed *h_2/3e/om- ‘warm’) or with Lane (1938:32) related to Latin amarus ‘bitter, pungent.’ Nor yet with Isebaert (1978b:346) from *omb^hul(y)o-, a derivative of *neb^h-/emb^h- ‘water, cloud’ since such a preform should have given B *omalle rather than *emalle and, in any case, the meaning is very distant. +

+ + +
+

+emalya +(nf.) +‘heat’
+[emalya, - emalyai//] +ce preke aumiyene pälskoṣṣe [mā] kälpasträ emälyai ‘in a spiritual fever one does not achieve heat’ (255b5), emalyaisa memyoṣ räskre wnolmi tākaṃ ‘[if] beings are roughly deluded by heat’ (286b2). + -- emalyaṣṣe ‘prtng to heat, hot’ (197b4). +∎Like TchA omlyi ‘id.,’ the substantival use of the (unattested) feminine form of emalle. +

+ + +
+

+ementsi +‘?’
+ ///māne ementsi päst /// (351.1.1). +

+ + +
+

+empakwatte +(adj.) +‘untrustworthy, unreliable’
+(K-T). +∎The privative of päkw- ‘trust, expect,’ q.v. (Hilmarsson, 1991: 85-86). +See also ompakwättñe. +

+ + +
+

+emparkre +(adv.) +‘wide(ly), long, expansively’
+k_utameṃ tākoy emparkre yṣūwa[r]kañe po wnolmeṃts | tumeṃ mant cai ksa emparkre śaśāyormeṃ nikṣāttärnta muhūrttänta śärsāre ‘where would exist widely prosperity for beings? thus, certain [people] having lived long, knew the constellations and moments’ (PK-AS16.3a3/4 [Pinault, 1989:156]), ñ[ä]kcye[ṃ] śāmñeṃ śaiṣṣeṃtso rewät yenme emparkre ‘thou wilt open wide the gate to the divine and human worlds’ (AS-17A-b5 [Pinault, 1984:170]). +∎The intensive e(n)- plus pärkare ‘long,’ qq.v. (Hilmarsson, 1991:171). +

+ + +
+

+empalkaitte ~ empälkatte +(adj.) +‘unworried, unconcerned’
+[empalkaitte ~ empalkatte, -, -//empalkaicci, -, -] +śaul kektsen [sic] empālkatte [sic] nestsi preke ‘[it is] the time to be unconcerned [with] life and body’ (281b2). + -- empälkattäññe ‘± unconcern’ (515a5). +∎TchA apälkāt and B empalkatte would reflect PTch *empälkātte (though the details of the B forms remain to be worked out). Such a word would look to be a privative of ¹pälk- ‘see.’ The meaning, however, would seem to rule out any such connection. Somewhat better semantically might be a connection with ³pälk- ‘burn’ (‘torture’ > ‘bother’). Cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:69-72. +

+ + +
+

+empele +(adj.) +‘terrible, horrible’
+[m: empele, -, empelye//empelyi, -, -] [f: -, -, empelyai//-, -, empelona] +luwo ṣey omp empele ‘there was there a terrible animal’ (576a3), ñī protri teki empele tsanka ‘a terrible illness arose to my brother’ (H-149.312b2 [Thomas, 1967:29, fn. 46]), ścireñ kektseñtsa lkātsi [e]mpelyi ‘raw of body, horrible to behold’ (K-7b4). + -- empelñe ‘± horror’ (271b3, 272b2). +∎TchB empele is clearly borrowed from B empele and the latter is probably (with Krause/Thomas, 1960:55, VW:176-177) the negative prefix e(n)- + pele ‘law,’ qq.v. (cf. also Hilmarsson, 1991:179-180). It is to be noted that the compound is inflected with the same mixture of o-stem and e-h₁en-stem (a thematic stem enlarged by *-h₁en-) that we see in adjectives -tstse and -tte (see Adams, 1988d). +

+ + +
+

+-emprukṣo * +only attested in the compound snay-emprukṣai ‘± without neglect, without detour’
+ypärwe - ne yär ṣāmai ce akālk ñiś säswenäś snay-emprukṣai ‘... I honored the wish of the lord without neglect’ (PK-AS-17J-b1/2 [Pinault, 1994:115- 116]). +∎A compound of the intensive prefix e(n)- + a verbal noun *-prukṣā- derived from the "causative" stem of pruk-, qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991: 172). +

+ + +
+

+empreṃ +(a) (nnt.); (b) ([indeclinable] adj.) +(a) ‘truth’; (b) ‘true’
+(a) [-, -, empreṃ//-, -, emprenma] +(a) wñāre empreṃ lāntäśco ‘they spoke the truth to the king’ (18a1), lareṃ weṃ no mā eñcareṃ empreṃ weṃ [n]o [m]ā [waike weṃ] ‘[if] one speaks a dear [word] and not an unkind [one]; [if] one speaks the truth and does not speak a lie’ [empreṃ = BHS satyam] (20a8), empreṃtsa = BHS añjasa (H-149.331b1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32: 495]); +
+(b) empreṃ ostmeṃ lantsi camñcer ‘truly you can leave the house [= become monks]’ (108a5), [tūsa tärrek] tänmasträ pelaik[n]e mant= empreṃ lkāṣṣäṃ ‘thus he is born blind and never sees the true law’ (291b3). + -- emprenmaṣṣe* ‘prtng to truths’ (TEB-59-30); +
+emprentse (adj.) ‘true, propitious’; (n.) ‘propitiousness, truth’: = [e]mprentse = BHS śreyaḥ (19b4), [tu]sa mskelle śrāddh=empreṃtse ta[karṣke] ‘one should be believing, truthful, and clear’ (65b7); +
+emprentsäññe ‘truth’: empreṃtsñeśc [su ltu o]stmeṃ ṣamāne ‘a monk come out of the house towards truth’ (19b2), empreṃtsñe = BHS satyam (29b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Isebaert (1988:139-140) plausibly suggests a borrowing from a Middle Iranian *ham-wrama- ‘confidence.’ Not with VW (177), following an earlier suggestion of Smith (1910:10), who takes it as the intensive prefix e(n)- + some derivative of *bher- ‘bear.’ +

+ + +
+

+eye* +(n.) +‘sheep’
+[-, eyentse, -//] +ot ñweṃ prastāṃ eyetse /// ‘then a new sleeping-mat of sheep's [wool is to be made]’ (326a1). +∎From a putative PIE *h₂owēis. (The other possibility often entertained, *h₃owēis, does not appear to account for the Anatolian data [Kimball, 1987], but see Lindeman, 1990). This *h₂owēis is a hysterokinetic nominative singular beside the more usual acrostatic one *h₂ówis [: Sanskrit ávi- (m./f.) ‘sheep,’ avika- (m.) ‘id.,’ avikā- (f.) ‘ewe,’ Wakhi yobc ‘ewe’ (< Proto-Iranian *āvi-či-), Armenian howiv ‘shepherd’ (< *h₂owi-peh₂-), Greek óis (m./f.) ‘sheep,’ Latin ovis (f.) ‘sheep,’ Old Irish ói ‘sheep,’ Old English ēowu ~ ēowe ‘sheep,’ OHG ouwi ‘id.,’ Lithuanian avìs (f.) ‘id.,’ ãvinas ‘wether,’ OCS ovь ‘id.,’ ovьca ‘ewe,’ Luvian hāwa/i- ‘sheep’, Lycian xawa- ‘sheep’, etc. (P:784; MA:510)]. +See also ā(_u)w. +

+ + +
+

+eynāke +See ainake. +

+ + +
+

+Er +(n.) +‘Er’ (PN)
+(289b2). +∎From an Uyghur word for ‘man.’ +

+ + +
+

+er- +(vt.) +‘evoke, call up, produce, bring forth, yield’
+Ps. VIII /ers^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, erṣäṃ//-, -, erseṃ; MP -, -, erṣtär// -, -, ersentär; MPImpf. // -, -, erṣyentär; Part. erṣeñca; Ger. erṣalle]; Ko. I /er-/ [MP -, ertar, -// -, -, erantär; AOpt. -, -, eri//; MPOpt. erimar, eritar, eritär//; Inf. ertsi; Ger. erälle*]; Ipv. III /persā-/ [Pl. persat]; Pt. III /ersā-/ [MP ersamai, ersatai, ersate// -, -, ersante]; PP /eru-/ +wnolmi [tan]e snai spelke mā mrauskalñ=ersenträ ‘beings here [are] without zeal and do not bring forth weariness for the world’ (3a6), ṣemi ysaly=erṣyentär ‘some produced discord’ (31b7), [takar]ṣkäñ=erṣeñca = BHS prāsādika (524b7); waimen=ertsi krentauna ‘[it is] difficult to produce virtues’ (H-149.72a2 [Thomas, 1954:744]); karttse palkas cewne persat takarṣkñe ‘behold the good; call up [some] faith in it!’ (19a2); kalpa takarṣ[käññe] tarya naumyentane ersat=ākāl[k] ‘he attained faith and evoked a wish for the three jewels’ (42b8). + -- erormeṃ: erormeṃ = BHS utpādya (H-ADD.149.62a2 [Couvreur, 1966: 165]). +∎TchA ar- and B er- reflect PTch *er- from PIE *h₁or- (the Anatolian cognates rule out an otherwise possible *h₃er-) [: Sanskrit íyarti ‘sets in motion,’ ṛṇóti ~ ṛṇváti ‘raises, moves’ (intr.), Avestan ar- ‘sets in motion,’ Armenian y-aṙnem ‘rise, stand’ (intr.), Greek órnūmi ‘urge on, incite, maike rise, call forth,’ Latin orior ‘rise, stand up, arise,’ Hittite arāi ‘rises,’ ari ‘arrives, reaches,’ artari ‘stands up,’ arnuzi ‘sets in motion’ (P:326ff)] (Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:378, VW:148; MA:506). Within Tocharian we should note AB ār- ‘cease’ from *ō + *h₁ṛ- (the *se/o-present of er- is matched by the *se/o-present of the causative of ār-). The semantic match of PTch *er- with Greek órnūmi is particularly strong. +See also ār-, ārsk-, or-, ere, orotstse. +

+ + +
+

+eraṇḍaṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the castor-oil plant’ (Ricinus communis Linn.)
+[eraṇḍaṣṣe, -, -//] +(497b3). +∎An adjective from an unattested *eraṇḍ from BHS eraṇḍa-. +See also irand and hirant. +

+ + +
+

+ere +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘appearance, color (of complexion)’
+[ere, -, ere//-, -, ereṃ] +walo olyapotse läklessu ere päst sparkā-ne ‘the king [was] suffering very much and his color was gone’ (99a1), erene kartstsa werene kartstsa śukene kartstsa ‘good in appearance, good in smell, good in taste’ (107a4), [ṣmare] ere = BHS snigdha[varṇa] (524b7), ere = BHS bimbam (U-1a4). +∎TchB ere reflects a PIE *h₁ores- ‘± what is raised or called up, what is made to appear’ and is the exact equivalent of Greek óros (nt.) ‘mountain.’ On the basis of the admittedly somewhat doubtful accusative plural ereṃ (566a6), it would appear that this PIE neuter s-stem has been reinterpreted as a thematic noun, presumably masculine. The old plural *h₁oresh_a is to be seen, with the addition of the productive -na, in ersna ‘form,’ q.v. The TchA equivalent, aräṃ, reflects a putative PIE *h₁or-no or perhaps *h₁or(e)s-no- (cf. Krause, 1952:224, VW:149). +See also er-, ersna, and erepate. +

+ + +
+

+erepate +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘form’
+[erepate, erepatentse, erepate//-, -, erepatenta] +yolai erepate = BHS virūpa (5b8), cai ñake ṣamāñe erepatesa tsäksenträ ‘they now burn in monastic form’ (431a2), [erepa]tentse = BHS rūpāṇi (H-149-ADD.67a5). +∎TchA arämpāt (pl. arämpātäntu) and B erepate are both dvandva compounds with aräṃ/ere (see ere) + PTch *pāte. It is at least probable that Pisani (1942-43:28; followed by VW:149) is correct in relating this *pāte with Sanskrit bhāti- ‘splendor, light,’ a ti-abstract from PIE *b^heh_a- ‘shine’ (P:104). VW refines the equation by pointing out that the Tocharian forms demand a *b^heh_ato- rather than *b^heh_ati-. +

+ + +
+

+eraitwe +(preposition) +‘by use of’
+ṣamāññempa eraitwe cimpim palsko yātässi āstreṃ yāmtsi ‘by use of monasticism, may I tame [my] spirit to make [it] pure!’ (S-4a3). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- (which here retains some of its prepositional force) + raitwe ‘use, means,’ qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:177). +

+ + +
+

+erk *¹ (~ ark) +(m.) +‘arka-plant’ (‘Calotropis gigantea (Linn.) R. Br. ex Ait.’) (a medical ingredient)
+[-, erkantse ~ arkantse, -//] +arkantse tsäṅwale (497b7), erkäntse yasoñña ‘sap of the arka-plant’ (W-5a6). +∎From BHS arka-. +

+ + +
+

+erk² +See -erkatstse. +

+ + +
+

+erkatte +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘scornful, hostile, unable to get along’ [NOUN-acc. erkatte yām- ‘to treat badly, mistreat’]
+taiknes=erkatte lāñc mäskeṃtr ontsoytñesa ‘thuswise kings find themselves vexed because of [their] insatiability’ (22a4), ñäś weñ=erkatte rekaunasa ‘he spoke to me with angry words’ (23b6/7), yāmṣate ñiśś erkatte lyautsa-ñ päst ṣañ ypoymeṃ ‘he treated me badly and exiled me from his kingdom’ (81a3), mäkte Samantatir sankrām pikwalañe śka anās erkatte ṣe-ñ ‘how my monastery S. was for years miserable and detestable’ (DAM-507-a2/3 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). + -- erkattäññe ‘anger, vexation, displeasure’: erkatñe tallārñe snai keś wärpanaträ tne piś toṃ cmelane ‘vexation and misery without number he suffers in these five lifeforms’ (42b3); +
+erkattäññetstse ‘having anger, displeasure’ (89b3). +∎TchB erkatte (/erkätte/) is obviously to be related to A erkāt but the exact details are not clear. Most likely the A form has been borrowed or at least influenced by the B word. PTch *erkätte is an adjectival derivative of *erk ‘testicle.’ The semantic development must have been something on the order of *‘coital excitement’ > ‘passionate rage.’ One sees the same development in Hittite argatiya- ‘stoop to rage, come to violence’ (Puhvel, 1984:147-148) or German Ärgernis (VW, 1941:22, 1976:182). This particular semantic development is discussed more generally by Watkins (1975). Cf. Adams (1987a:4-5). +See also -erkatste. +

+ + +
+

+erkatteśañ +(adj. [pl.]) +‘± exasperated, angry’
+[//erkatteśañ, -, -] +śampoṣṣi erkatteśañ /// (575b3). +∎An adjectival derivative of erkatte. For the formation, see Winter, 1979). +

+ + +
+

+erkasenta +‘?’
+///weñ erkasenta lāni yamaṣṣälona (W-2a6). +

+ + +
+

+-erkatstse +(adj.) +‘testiculate’
+[m: -erkatstse, -, -//] +/// tso staukkanatär-me śle yasar kalträ ... mäntak no tso-erkatse sa/// ‘their penis[es] become swollen and stand with blood; just so, however [one who is] penite and testiculate...’ (FS-b5). +∎An adjectival derivative in -tstse from an unattested *erk ‘testicle,’ itself reflecting PIE *h₄orǵ^hi- ‘id.’ [: Avestan ərəzi- (m.) ‘scrotum’ (dual ərəzi ‘testicles’), Armenian orjik' ‘testicles,’ Greek órkhis (m.) ‘testicle,’ Albanian herdhe (f.) ‘testicle’ < *h₄orǵ^hiyeh_a-; note that this Albanian form demonstrates the presence of an initial *h₄-), Middle Irish uirgge (f.) ‘testicle’ (< *h₄orǵ^hiyeh_a-) (P:782; MA:507)]. The lack of palatalization in the Tocharian word, even though there is a PIE *-i-, would be regular in the nominative singular and accusative plural where that PIE *-i- precedes and is centralized by an *-(n)s (Adams, 1988c:15). For other cognates, see Watkins (1975). For the Tocharian, see Adams (1987a:4; MA:507). +See also erkatte. +

+ + +
+

+Erkätsole +(n.) +‘Erkätsole’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Erkätsole, -, -//] +(491a-I-1). +See A derivative of some sort of -erkatstse? +

+ + +
+

+erkent- +(adj.) +‘black’
+[m: -, erkeñcepi, erkent//] [f: // -, -, erkenta] +erkenta yakwāmeṃ ṣorpo[r] ‘a bag [made] of black wool’ (M-3b7), erkeñcepi kuñcītäntse ṣalype ‘an oil of black sesame’ (W-22a4). +∎TchA arkant- and B erkent- reflect PTch *erkent- and are usually taken to be from a putative PIE *h₁ṛg^w-ont- ‘dark’ [: Sanskrit rájanī- ‘night,’ Greek érebos (nt.) ‘darkness of the underworld,’ Armenian erek ‘evening,’ Gothic riqis (nt.) ‘darkness,’ Greek orphnós ‘dark’ (< *h₁org^ws-no-), and TchB orkamo ‘dark’ (< *h₁org^wmon-) (P:857)] (VW:149-150). Hilmarsson (1096:171 and 1989b:105-108) suggests, however, that we have *h₂ṛǵ-ont-, the word that usually gives ‘silver’ (see further s.v. ārkwi). Semantically he adduces the not unusual change of ‘shining’ > ‘shining black’ > ‘black’ (one might compare the etymological connection of English black and bleach). +

+ + +
+

+erkau* +(n.) +‘cemetery’
+[-, -, erkau//-, -, erkenma] +alyekepi käryorttante śana sruka tā_u erkenmasa ṣalāre kenek śār aipar-ne ‘the wife of another merchant dies and they laid her in the cemetery and covered her with a linen cloth’ (560a2/3). +∎In TchA we have the adjective, derived from the plural, arkämnāṣi. All this suggests a PTch *erkemän-. (The development of *a (< PTch *-e-) to ä in a closed syllable in Tocharian A is regular). The relationship between singular erkau and plural erkenma is similar to, but not exactly, that obtaining between singular śanmau ‘fetter, bond,’ plural śänmānma, q.v. For the phonological development of *-m- to -w-, see Hilmarsson (1991b:152-153) and Adams (1992). VW (1971c:157, 1976:150) is probably correct in further relating this etymon to PIE *h₂org- seen in Old Irish org- ‘strike, kill,’ Hittite hark- ‘perish,’ hark(a)nu- ‘destroy.’ That the Tocharian word here is usually a plurale tantum supports a derivation from *h₂org-: the original meaning would have been *‘the (collective) dead’ < *‘the perished’ (as cogently pointed out by Melchert, p.c.). The Tocharian singular would be in origin a backformation. Hilmarsson (1991b:149-151) proposes that the cemetery Tocharian speakers envisioned was not a graveyard (for inhumation) in the strict sense but rather a place where the dead were left on wooden structures to be devoured by carrion-birds as in Iranian custom. If Hilmarsson (1991b: 149ff) should be right about the kind of cemetery the Tocharian-speakers spoke about, he may be right that erkenma the wooden platforms on which the bodies were laid. He suggests a derivation from PIE *h₃reǵ- ‘extend, direct, stretch (over a surface).’ Particularly he would compare Latin regimen (nt.) ‘direction, directing.’ Both Tocharian erkau and Latin regimen could be from PIE *h₃reǵomṇ. However, the archeological evidence strongly suggests inhumation as the preferred form of burial and thus Hilmarsson's proposal loses much of its cogency. +

+ + +
+

+erṣaitsñe +See airṣaitstse. +

+ + +
+

+ersänk +(adv.) +‘± with great care, concern’ (?)
+[ke]ktseñ lka[ntär e]rsänk skeyettse rā (242a1), ///ne caṇḍāli waikiññeṃ penkeṃ pa [sic] tasemane mcuṣkantaṃts ckāckane ersank śa/// (589b5). + -- ersankäññe* ‘± concern, suspicion’: kwaräm wärñai ersankñene tekanmane kartse ‘good in [cases] of sicknesses for [which there is] the suspicion of .... tumor, etc.’ (Y-1b5). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also enersänk. +

+ + +
+

+ersna +(n.[pl.tant.f.]) +‘form’
+[//ersna, ersnaṃts, ersna] +[snai] ersnās ste [lege: snai-ersnā sste]; snai-ersna = BHS virūpa (5b6), poyśintasa tañ yaitwa ersna ‘with buddhas [is] thy form decorated’ (74b3), ñem ersna kselñemeṃ = BHS nāmarūpanirodhāt (157b1), tumeṃ oṃṣäp no ñakti klyowonträ [sic] snai ersna ‘moreover the gods are called formless’ (K-2a3). + -- ersnāṣṣe ‘prtng to form’ (PK-NS53-a1 [Pinault, 1988]); +
+ersnāssu ‘well-formed, pleasing, handsome, beautiful’: yśelmecce ersnāssonto śaiṣṣempa ‘with a lustful, beautiful world’ (41a5), ersnāsu [sic] = BHS abhirūpo (524b2). +∎The old plural of ere ‘appearance’ (< *h₁oros), namely *er(ä)s (< *h₁oresh_a), recharacterized by the addition of the productive plural morpheme -na. +See More s.v. ere. +

+ + +
+

+El +(n.) +‘El’ (PN)
+[El, -, -//] +(289b2). +∎From an Uyghur word meaning ‘stem’? +

+ + +
+

+elauke +(adv.) +‘far, distantly’
+k_use śäktālyenta skente etsuwai elauke wat ‘which seed are found near or far’ (KVāc-30a3). +∎From e(n)- ‘in’ + lauke, qq.v. (Hilmarsson, 1991: 170-171). +

+ + +
+

+elya- +some sort of foodstuff (?)
+[wsā]wa piś cakanma elya ̇e/// (460a4). +

+ + +
+

+elyeñcai +‘doing ill (to someone)’ (?)
+alyekepi kektsenne [] elyeñcai te [] mäktu [] lkaṣṣäṃ [sic] = BHS paraśraye [] duraka[ṃ] tat [] yat [] ikṣate (545b5). +‣This hapax legomenon happily appears as the gloss to a Sanskrit word. Unfortunately the word it glosses is as obscure as elyeñcai. It is clear by the Tocharian glossator's choice of a present participle that the Sanskrit duraka[ṃ] is either a verbal adjective (duraka) or a "quasi-gerund" (durakaṃ) such as are discussed by Edgerton (1953:120). Thus we have a verbal root dur-, otherwise unknown. The only solution I can see is to assume here the same dur- we see in the AV durasyáti ‘will Böses zufügen’ (Mayrhofer, 1963:54), a quasi-denominative from the prefix duṣ-/dur- ‘ill-.’ The whole of the preserved portion of the verse in which durakaṃ occurs (with corrections): parasya nāma skhalitani paśyati svayañ ca teṣv eva padeṣu vardate paraśraye durakaṃ tat yat ikṣate. We can translate thus: ‘he sees the errors of another; he himself dwells in these very places; thus the doing of evil to another's body [is] what he sees.’ +∎This rather complicated reasoning as to the meaning of durakaṃ and thus of elyeñcai gains some etymological support in that the verbal root el- underlying elyeñcai can only reflect a PIE *h₃el(h₁)- seen in Greek óllūmi ‘destroy, bring to an end; lose’ (future olésō), Latin aboleō ‘destroy, do away with’ (P:777; MA:158), and Latin lētum ‘death,’ lētālis ‘deadly, mortal.’ In Tocharian we have an attenuated semantic development *‘destroy’ > ‘do ill to.’ +

+ + +
+

+ewe +(n.) +‘inner skin, hide’
+[ewe, -, ewe//ewenta, -, -] +[kektse]nne ewe passāre-ne śamāne ‘they flayed the hide on his body [while still] living’ (235a3), ika[ñceṃ pi]nk[c]eṃ ṣuk-kaunne ewe kentsentsa [tänmastär-ne] ‘in the twenty-fifth week the inner skin appears on his [scil. the embryo's] body’ (603a4), te eṣe pepakṣormeṃ aṣiye iwene taṣale ‘having cooked this together, [it is] to be put on a goat hide’ (W-40a5/6). +∎From PIE *h₁owes- (nt.) ‘± covering,’ a derivative of *h₁eu- ‘put on (of clothes, shoes)’ [: Avestan aoþra- ‘footwear,’ Armenian aganim ‘put something on,’ Latin exuō ‘take off,’ induō ‘put on,’ induviae ‘clothes,’ induvium ‘bark,’ exuviae ‘slough (of a snake),’ ōmen ~ ōmentum ‘fat, omentum,’ Lithuanian aviù ‘wear shoes,’ aunù ‘put on shoes,’ OCS obujǫ ‘put on shoes,’ Hittite unu(wa)- ‘adorn,’ etc. (cf. P:346)] (VW, 1963b:40, 1976:183; MA:522). The o-grade in the neuter s-stem is not common but surely attested in Latin onus ‘burden’ from *h₁onh_xes- (see s.v. en-) or TchB ere, q.v. The initial *h₁- or *h₁eu- is assured by the lack of any initial laryngeal in Hittite unu(wa)- (Melchert, p.c.). +See also possibly aiyyer. +

+ + +
+

+eweta +(adv.) +‘in conflict, in strife [with]’
+[with the comitative] +kete no āñme wī aulareṃ eweta tarkatsi śamñana wī kwrāṣ tainaisäñ ñemtsa näsait yamaṣle ... eweta /// ‘to whom [there is] the desire to set at strife two companions, two human skeletons [are taken] and in their two names the spell [is] cast ...’ (M-3a7), āmpäl-śuke salyiṃ ṣpä malkwermpa eweta ‘vinegar-taste and salt [are] in strife with milk’ (ST-a6/b1). + -- ewetaitstse* ‘± fighting’ (see Hilmarsson, 1991:179) +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- (here retaining much of its original prepositional meaning) + weta ‘conflict,’ qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:179). +

+ + +
+

+ewepe (or eweṣe) +(n.) +‘?’
+[ewepe, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients (P-3a6). +

+ + +
+

+eśatkai +(adv.) +‘± very’
+Priyadeve ñemttsa śreṣṭhi ṣey eśatkai śāte ekaññetstse olyapotstse sa [lege: su] no entsesse ‘P. by name was a merchant; [he was] very rich and had many possessions but he was greedy’ (375a4). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + -śätkai, the accusative singular of a deverbal noun *śätkā-, a derivative of ¹kätk- ‘pass over.’ The formation is the same as is seen in eplyuwai or etsuwai, qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:177). +

+ + +
+

+eśanetstse +See ek. +

+ + +
+

+eśuwatte* +(adj.) +‘not having eaten, having gone hungry’
+[f: -, -, eśuwacca//] +tu ṣamānets päst aiṣṣi śwātsi ~ tāy no trite kauṃ ṣai ~ eśuwacca mäskīträ ‘she gave it back to the monks to eat; for her, however, [it was] the third day [that] she had gone without eating’ (TEB-66-34= H-149.X.5a3/4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎A privative from śuwā- ‘eat,’ q.v. (cf. HIlmarsson, 1991:72-73). +

+ + +
+

+eś-lmau +See ek. +

+ + +
+

+eśpeṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to hogweed’ (Boerhavia diffusa Linn. [aka boerhavia procumbens])
+[m: eśpeṣṣe, -, -//] +‣For identification and discussion, see Maue, 1990:163. Another word meaning ‘hogweed’ is wärścik, q.v. +∎Etymology unknown. It is the semantic equivalent of Khotanese aiśte (var. auśte, eśte, etc. [Bailey, 1979:48]) and one is tempted to see some sort of phonological relationship as well but what exactly it might be is unclear. +

+ + +
+

+eṣe +(adv.-preposition) +‘together (with)’
+walo kauṣale eṣe wertsyaimpa ‘the king of Kauṣala, together with [his] retinue’ (18b7), triwoṣ ... kattākeṃmp=eṣe ‘mixed together with house-holders’ (31b6=32a8), aklaṣlyeṃ po eṣe kraupäṣṣare weñār-meś ‘they gathered all the disciples together and spoke to them’ (108a3), eṣe waltsāre ‘they ground [them (scil. various grains)] together’ (462a3). + -- eṣemeṃ ‘all together’: wi dhatuṣṣa[na] lypauwa kleśanma ṣkas eṣemeṃ mäskenträ-ne ‘the kleśas belonging to the dhātus are six altogether’ (591a3). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)-, which here retains much of its original prepositional meaning ‘in,’ + ṣe ‘one.’ Perhaps ṣe, an apparent nominative, is actually the PIE accusative *sēm (< *semṃ) (Hilmarsson, 1991:177-178). +

+ + +
+

+eṣerñe* +(adj.) +‘related as sisters’
+[f: //eṣerñāna, -, eṣerñāna] +ṣerśkana ceym rṣāki ñissa śpālmeṃ stare [] tumeṃ toy eṣerñāna onkorñai kamānte śuddavāsäṣṣeṃś ‘sisters, these seers are better than I; then the besistered ones took the porridge to the ś.’ (107b2/3), takarṣkñesa wināṣṣar-ne wi eṣerñāna ‘out of faith the two besistered ones worshiped him’ (107b6). +∎An adjectival collocation of the intensive prefix e(n)- + ṣer ‘sister,’ qq.v., + the adjective forming -ññe (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:178). Compare the similar omprotartste ‘related as brothers,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+eṣpirtatte* +(adj.) +‘unturned’
+[-, -, eṣpirtacce//] +(30b7, AMN-a2). +∎The privative of spārtt- ‘turn,’ q.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:61-62). +

+ + +
+

+Eṣmiñe +(n.) +‘Eṣmiñe’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Eṣmiñe, -, -//] +(491a-I-6). +

+ + +
+

+esale +(n.) +‘post’
+(K-T). +∎TchA asäl and B esale reflect PTch *esäle but further connections are uncertain. VW (151) suggests PIE *h₂osd-lo-, a derivative of *h₂osdo- ‘branch’ (P:785-786). +

+ + +
+

+etsarkälle* +(adv.) +‘± with zeal, with self-castigation’
+carka yetweṃ kektseñṣe spelke -ṣp yāmṣi etsarkle ‘he let go of the jewels of the body and ... acted with zeal’ (A-1b7). + -- etsarkälletstse* ‘zealous’: etsarkällecci = BHS ātāpino (U-2a3). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + the gerund of tsärk- ‘burn, torture,’ qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:178-179). +

+ + +
+

+etsuwai +(adv.) +‘towards, near to’
+[etsuwai i- ‘approach’] +[yoko kau]tsiś etsuwai āśäṃ wnolmeṃ ‘thirst leads beings towards death’ [etsuwai = BHS upa] (11a8), etswai-palkalñe = BHS upalakṣaṇā (41b7), eṣerñāna etsuwai masa ‘he went towards the sisters’ (107a5), Bārāṇasi-ri etsuwai ‘near Benares-city’ (112a3), k_use śäktālyenta skente etsuwai elauke wat ‘which seed are found near or far’ (KVāc-30a3 [Hilmarsson, 1991: 170]), ets[uwai] = BHS anucankramaṃ (PK-NS-12a1 [Couvreur, 1967: 153]). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + tsuwai, qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991: 179). +

+ + +
+

+ai- +(vt.) +‘give’
+Ps. IXa /āisk^'ä/_e-/ [A aiskau, -, aiṣṣäṃ//aiskem, aiścer, aiskeṃ; AImpf. -, -, aiṣṣi// -, -, aiṣṣiyeṃ; APart. aiṣṣeñca (see also aiṣṣeñcaññe below); MPPart. aiskemane; Ger. aiṣṣälle]; Ko. I /āi-/ [A āyu, ait, aiṃ// -, -, aiṃ; AOpt. -, -, āyi//; MPOpt. -, -, ayītär//; Inf. aitsi; Ger. aille]; Ipv. /pete-/ [sg. pete; pl. petso ~ petes]; Pt. I(sg.)/III(pl.) /wäsā-/ [A wsāwa, wsāsta, wasa//wasam, -, wsar ~ wsare]; PP /āyu-/ +tā onkorñai pintwāt aiskem ‘we give the porridge [as] alms’ (107a6), [eśanai]säñ win=aiṣṣeñca = BHS nayanābhirāmaḥ (524b5), ce peri nesem tu päs aiskem-ne ‘that which we owe we will give back to him’ (DAM-507-a9 [Pinault, 1984a:24]); pelaik[n]e klyauṣtsi āyor aitsi ‘to give the gift of hearing the law’ (23a7), k_use pi ksa ayi-ne pelaikne klyauṣtsi ‘who might give him to hear the law?’ (99a4); pelaikne klyauṣtsi nauṣ pete-ñ ‘give me to hear the law!’ (100a6); entwek āyor mā wasa ‘he did not, then, give a gift’ (49b2), /// wsāwa wi ṣankäṃ ‘I gave two pounds’ (470a2), sankakeṃtsa k_uśāneṃ wasam 6000 (490b-I-4), karstatsi wsāsta āstäṃ ‘thou hast given [thy] heads to be cut off’ (S-8a3); se udāṃ Wäryarucintse āyu ‘this udāna [was] given by V.’ (Dd7). +‣One should note that with ai- are formed periphrastic causatives to klyaus- ‘hear,’ yok- ‘drink,’ and śuwā- ‘eat.’ Thus we have klyaustsi ai- ‘cause to hear,’ etc. + -- āyormeṃ; +
+aiṣṣeñcaññe ‘giving’: pontaṃts aiṣṣeñcaññe kärtseṣṣe ‘to all giving the good’ (AMB-a4) [a derivative of the active present participle]; +
+ailñe ‘gift, gift-giving; inheritance’: ailñe = BHS dāya (21a2), ailñe = BHS dāna (23b7), ṣaḍvarginta karyor pito misko ailñe yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvargikas were dealing in buying, selling, exchange, and inheritance’ (337a2), śak pärkāwänta kṣatre ailñesa yänmāṣṣäṃ wnolme ‘a being achieves the ten benefits through giving an umbrella’ (K-9a5). +∎TchA e- ‘id.’ and B ai- reflect PTch *āi- from PIE *h₄ei- ‘take, give’ which is otherwise to be seen certainly in Greek aínūmai ‘take,’ aîsa (f.) ‘lot, fate’ (< *‘what one is given’), Hittite pāi- ‘give’ (from *pe- + h₄ei- as, for instance in P [10-11], Melchert [1984:32, fn. 65], and MA:224), and Lycian ije- ‘buy’ and Hieroglyphic Luvian iyasa- ‘id.’ (the Lycian and HLuv. words are generalized from the weak-grade [Melchert, 1989:44]). Semantically one may compare the difference in English of ‘take from’ and ‘take to’ (cf. also Benveniste, 1948-49). This etymology goes back in embryo to Pedersen, 1925:20. VW (174-5) wrongly rejects this etymology in favor of equating these Tocharian words with Sanskrit dyáti ‘cuts, shares,’ etc. as *ā + dy-. +
+The imperative pete is composed of the Tocharian imperative prefix pe- (~ pä-) + either PIE *dh₃o (Watkins, 1969a:208) or *deh₃ (Winter apud Watkins). Since word-final *-ō gives PTch *-e (Adams, 1988c:19), either form would regularly have resulted in a PTch *-te. +
+The preterite, TchA wäs-ā- (preterite participle wawu), B wäs(-ā)-, is of uncertain origin. The shape of the preterite participle in A suggests that the -s- is not part of the root but some sort of stem formative. Presumably it is, as is so often the case, the relic of an old se/o-present whose -s- has been extended to much of the rest of the paradigm. Thus we have a morphophonemic division *wä-s- and it may be that in PIE terms we have *wi- ‘away’ verbalized by *-se/o- just as it may be for ²ās- ‘fetch’ and similar to ²kätk- ‘lower’ where the present formant was *-sḱe/o- rather than *-se/o-. In any case, not with VW (563-564) related to Sanskrit dúvas- (nt.) ‘honor, sacrifice.’ +See also āyor and anāyätte. +

+ + +
+

+aik- +(vt.) +‘know, recognize’
+G Ps. II /āik^'ä/_e-/ [MP aikemar, aiśtar, aiśtär// -, -, aikentär; MPImpf. aiśimar, -, -,//; APart. aiśeñca; MPPart. aikemane (see also aikemanetse below); Ger. aiśalle]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [MPOpt. -, -, aiśitär//; Inf. aiś(t)si]; Pt. Ib /āikā-/ [A -, aikasta, -//]; PP /āiku-/; +
+K Pt. III /āiksā-/ [A -, aiksātai, -// -, -, aiksānte] +wai[me]netse śaul totk=āttsaik su ṣp laklempa rittowo mā no wnolmy aikenträ ‘the life [of beings] is difficult and very short and bound up with suffering but beings do not recognize [it]’ (3b6), mā-yśeñcañ = BHS ajānakāḥ (31a6/7=32a1), śuke aiśeñca = BHS -rasajño (251b3), ṣamāne ytāri mā aiśtär klyiye ytāri ṣärpṣūkiññesa yaṃ-ne anāpatti ‘[if] a monk does not know the way and a woman goes [with] him [as] an explainer of the way, anāpatti’ (330a2), mā ai[śeñca] = BHS ajānaṃ (534b4), yśelma [sic] aikemar tañä witskai = BHS kāma jānāmi te mūlam (U-2b2/3), aiśträ = BHS vijānāti (U-18b6); ot aknātsañ pelaiknenta ca[mp]eṃ aiśsi ‘then fools can know the laws’ (286b2); ekasta [sic] enkalñeṣṣeṃ ñemna po ‘thou didst know all the names of passion’ (204b3); aiku = BHS jñāta (31a4), te śārsa-me pudñäkt=ānaiśai mā ranw aiku kärsau ñy akalṣle ‘the Buddha made this known: neither [is] my student known or recognized/celebrated or famous’ (31a7/8); aiyksātaiy ra saṃsārṣṣana po [läkle]nta ‘thou hast made known, as it were, all the sufferings of the saṃsāra’ (214a2/3). + -- aikoreṃ: aikormeṃ = BHS -abhisaṃbuddha (531a3); +
+-aikemanetse ‘± knowing’: /// mā aikemanetse = BHS avijānitaḥ (H-149.329a2 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486]). +∎TchAB aik- and its widespread derivatives in B (in A there is only eśe which corresponds with B aiśai) comes from PIE *h_aeiḱ-) ‘have as one's own, be master of’ [: Sanskrit īśe ‘is master of, controls’ (the ī- reflects an original reduplication), Avestan iše ‘is master of,’ Gothic aih, aigum ‘have, possess,’ Old English āgan ‘id.,’ OHG eigan ‘id.,’ Old English āgen ‘own,’ OHG eigan ‘own,’ Gothic aihts ‘property,’ Avestan išti- ‘goods, riches’ P:298-299; MA:270] (Pedersen, 1925:31, VW:139, though the details differ). One should note that the consistent orthographic <aik>- (and never <eyk>-) in Tocharian in all forms of this verb, and of its several derivatives, strongly suggests that we have /āik-/ rather than /eik-/ and thus PIE *h_aeiḱ-) rather than *h₁oiḱ- or *h₃eiḱ-. In Tocharian we have a semantic shift from physical possession to mental possession. +See also aiśi, aiśamo, aiśai, anaiśai, and anaikätte. +

+ + +
+

+aikatte* +(adj.) +‘± not removing’
+[-, aikaccepi, -//] +te aikaccepi kleśanma ‘that [is the characteristic] of one who [is] unable to destroy kleśas’ [Hilmarsson, 1991:56, following Broomhead] (H-149.45b4). +∎If a privative of wik- ‘disappear.’ +

+ + +
+

+aikare +(adj.) +‘empty’
+[m: aikare, -, aikareṃ//aikari, -, -] [f: aikarya, -, -//aikarona, -, -] +pelaikn[i] po aikari ‘the laws [are] all empty’ (597b3), aikarya = BHS śūnyo (U-1b2). +∎TchA ekär ‘id.’ and B aikare reflect PTch *aikäre and this is surely to be related to A ekro ‘poor’ (< *‘having emptiness’?) but further connections are uncertain. VW (176) suggests a connection with Greek īkhar ‘violent desire,’ īkanáō ‘desire,’ Sanskrit īhate ‘seek to obtain, desire,’ Avestan āzi ‘desire’; however, the semantic gap seems too wide. Only Greek ākhēn ‘needy, poor’ seems apposite here and even so matches semantically only A ekro and not the central meaning ‘empty’ of this etymon. Perhaps instead we have the intensive prefix e(n)-, q.v., + a PTch *yäkre (as if) from PIE *h₁egro-, an adjectival derivative of *h₁eg- ‘be lacking’ [: Latin egeō ‘am without, am in need; want, wish for,’ egestās ‘poverty, indigence, lack, need,’ egēnus (< *h₁eges-no-) ‘indigent, needy,’ Oscan egmo ‘res,’ Old Norse ekla ‘lack’ (P:290)]. +See also perhaps yäk- and aikäruṣa. +

+ + +
+

+aikäruṣa +‘possessed of emptiness’ (?)
+aikäruṣa ket pälsko snai säk yaitu kektseñä nonk ausu ramt pakware mā prutkäṣṣäṃ we[rtsyai]ne (254b3=255b2). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, a derivative of aikare. +

+ + +
+

+aikeca +‘?’
+/// pas aikeca [] cisa /// (618b2) +

+ + +
+

+aikne +(n.) +‘duty’
+[aikne, -, aikne//] + /// aikne cpī aksäṣṣäṃ/// ‘he instructs him in [his] duty’ (587.1b1), tusāksa aikne ṣäñ yolaina yāmornta [] nāktsy aiśaumyepi ‘thus [it is] the duty of the wise man to reproach his own evil deeds’ (K-3b3). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + yakne ‘way,’ qq.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:161). +

+ + +
+

+aiksnar +(adv.) +‘(all) together’
+[aiksnar mäsk- ‘come together, assemble’] +keṣe aiksnar wä[ntoṣo swāñcaintsa cwi ye]t[se] ysāṣṣe [Thomas, 1983:197] ‘and a fathom's [width] of rays covered his golden skin altogether’ (30b1/2), aiksnar mäskenträ = BHS saṃbhavanti (156a5). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- + yäksnā-, present stem of yäks- ‘grasp, enfold,’ qq.v., + -ār (see Hilmarsson, 1991:161-162). +

+ + +
+

+aicärke +(n.) +‘?’
+In a list of medical ingredients (W-38a5). +

+ + +
+

+aiñye* +‘passable, traversable,’ only in the compound somo-aiñye ‘only passable’ (or ‘traversable only by one or only by the Buddha,’ in any case = BHS ekāyana-)
+[f: -, -, aiñyai//] +sanai ytāri källātsiś sportotär somw-aiñyai ytārye ‘the only passable way turns to achieve the sole road’ (29b3). +∎Either a putative PIE *h₁oin-ih_xo-, an o-grade derivative of *h₁ei-n-, itself an élargissement of *h₁ei- ‘go’ (see s.v. i- ‘go, travel’) with VW (140) or the Tocharian verbal prefix ā-, q.v., + *h₁inih_xo- with zero-grade. In any case, VW is right to adduce the type of Greek hágios ‘venerandus’ as an example of the same *-ih_xo-. +

+ + +
+

+aitkatte +(adj.) +‘± uncommissioned, unordered’
+[aitkatte, -, -//] +(H-149.45b4 [K]). + -- aitkattäññe ‘± state of not being ordered’ (?) (293a1). +∎A privative from wätk-, q.v. (see Hilmarsson, 1991:56). +

+ + +
+

+aittanka +(adv.) +‘directed to(wards)’ [with dative or locative]
+[yām]utts[i]nts[o] yt[ā]rye mkte [sic] yolmeś aittanka ‘as the way of the waterfowl (?) [is] directed toward the pool’ (29a3), mäkte wranta ckentameṃ kārpaṃ kwri Gānkne [ait]t[a]nka ... po yaneṃ samudtärśc aiwol ‘as the waters from the rivers, if directed to the Ganges, descend and go towards to the ocean’ (30a8). +∎In origin, aittäṃ + the strengthening particle ka, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+aittäṃ +(adv.) +‘± forth’
+/// ṣamāne ṣey aittäṃ maittär /// ‘he was a monk; they set forth’ (582a1). +∎Perhaps a PIE *h₁ói-tw-om a verbal noun ‘± a going’ from *h₁ei- ‘go’ (cf. Oscan eituam ‘pecuniam’ < Italic *ei-tu-ā-, English oath from *h₁oi-to- if it belongs here [Puhvel, 1991:9-10, would put oath with Hittite hai- ‘believe, trust, be convinced’]). The -n would be the same as we see in postäṃ ‘after.’ Not (with VW:140) the intensive prefix plus a derivative of PIE *wedh- ‘lead’ (> A wät- ‘put, place’). +See also aittanka. +

+ + +
+

+ainake +(adj.) +‘common, base(-born)’
+[m: ainake, -, ainakeṃ//ainaki, ainakeṃts, -] +[mā lāre yamī]tär śaumoṃ ainakeṃ ‘may he not love common men!’ (308a3), kete ā[ñm]e [tsä]lpātsi lwāññe cmeṃlmeṃ [sic] ainakeṃ ‘to whomever [is] the desire to be freed from the common, animal birth’ (575a6). +∎TchA enāk ‘id.’ and B aināke reflect PTch *eināke, probably a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source, e.g. Pahlevi ’ynykyh (Hansen, 1940:146) rather than an inherited word ultimately related to the Iranian ones (so VW:178). +

+ + +
+

+aineye* +(n.) +‘black antelope’
+[-, aineyentse, -//] +tskertkane aineyentse lwāntse ramt ‘calves like the black antelope-animal's’ (74a4). +∎From BHS aiṇeya-. +

+ + +
+

+aip- +(vt.) +‘cover, pull over, blind [of the eyes]’
+Ps. VIII /aips^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, aipseṃ; Ger. aipṣalle]; Pt. III /aip(sā)-]/ [A //-, -, aipar]; PP /aipu-/ +/// śār aiypseṃ [ṣa]rsa totteṃ āś nawasa/// (324b4); śana sruka tā_u erkenmasa ṣalāre kenek śār aipar-ne ‘[his] wife died and they laid her in the cemetery and covered her with a linen cloth’ (560a2/3); entses=aipu eśne ‘eyes blinded by envy’ (49b2), ṣi[m mā] prākre aipu no iścemtsa oṃṣmeṃ mā yāmu ‘the roof [is] not firmly covered and not made with clay from above’ (A-2a5). + -- aiporñe* ‘± covering’ (328b2). +∎TchA ep- and B aip- reflect PTch *āip- or *eip-. If the former, it is probable that we have PTch ā- ‘near, up to, on’ + PIE yebh- ‘± disappear into, enter into, be(come) covered up’ (more s.v. yäp- ‘enter’). Not with VW (624) a bor-rowing from some Paleosiberian language (e.g. Kamchadal (k)eip ‘cover’). +

+ + +
+

+aipau +See tsaipau. +

+ + +
+

+aiyye* +(adj.) +‘ovine, prtng to sheep’
+[f. //aiyyāna, -, -] +eśe [= eṣe?] aiyyāna śānta takāre 18 ‘together the ovine animals were 18’ (PK-LC-I.4 [Pinault, 1997:177]). +∎From PIE *h₂owyo- [: Sanskrit ávya- ‘prtng to sheep,’ Greek oía ‘sheepskin’ (P:784)] (Pinault, 1997:193-194). +See also ā(_u)w. +

+ + +
+

+aiyyer* +(n.) +‘sheath’
+[-, -, aiyyer//] +aiyyermeṃ = BHS koṣāt (PK-NS-12b3 [Couvreur, 1967:153]). +∎Perhaps with VW (141) a putative PIE *h₁ou-y-or, *h₁ou-y-ēr, or perhaps *h₁ou-wēr, a derivative of *h₁eu- ‘cover.’ +See If so, see also ewe ‘inner skin.’ +

+ + +
+

+Airawanta* +(n.) +‘Airawanta’ (PN)
+[-, Airawantantse, -//] +(74a4). +

+ + +
+

+airpätte* +(adj.) +‘unheeding, disregarding, impassive’
+[m: -, -, airpäcce//] [f: //-, -, airpättona] +airpäcce pañäktäṃñe ai[śamñe] ‘the impassive buddha-wisdom’ (541a6), [wäsa]nma ausormeṃ snai-y[parw]e [saṃs]ār[n]e airpittona läklenta wärpātai ‘wearing [such] clothes thou didst suffer unheeding pains in the beginningless saṃsāra’ [cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:197] (KVāc-12b4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1986]). +∎If the privative of yärp- ‘pay attention to’ (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:106-109). +

+ + +
+

+airṣaitstse* +(adj.) +‘± exhuberant, impetuous’
+[-, -, airṣaicceṃ//] +(124a1, 362b5). + -- airṣaitsäññe ‘exhuberance, impetuosity’: airṣaitsäññe = BHS saṃrambha- (U-20a2); +
+airṣaitsäñ-ñetstse* ‘± impetuous’ (A-4b4) +∎In form a -tstse adjective to an unattested deverbative noun (acc. sg.) *airṣai. This noun implies a verbal root *airs- which must in turn be *ā-, q.v., + -yärs-. This *yärs- may reflect a PTch *w'ärs- but further connections are very uncertain. It is possible we have a reflex of PIE *h_awer- ‘rise’ [: Greek aéirō] or of PIE *wer- ‘twist’ (if > *‘throw’). See P:1150 and 1152 respectively. Hilmarsson (1991:166-167) takes the underlying yärs- to be the attested yärs-, q.v., ‘mit innere Beteiligung sprechen’ but the meaning is distant. +

+ + +
+

+ailskālyñe +See kälsk-. +

+ + +
+

+aiw- +(vi.) +‘be turned toward, be directed toward’
+G Ps. IV /āiwo-/ [MP -, -, aiwotär//]; Pt. Ib /āiwā-/ [A -, -, aiwa//]; PP /āiwā-/ +/// aiwoträ wertsiyaimeṃ pränketrä ‘he turns towards .... and holds himself aloof from the assembly’ (14a2); ket śāmñe śaiṣṣe aiwau ‘to whom the world [is] directed’ (93a6). +∎TchB aiw- is composed of the verbal prefix ā-, q.v. and *yu- seen in TchA yu- ‘id.’ (TchA shows the same aiw- as B in ānewāts, the equivalent of B anaiwatstse.) One should note the particularly striking parallelism of the present tense formations in the two languages. In PTch terms we have *ywe- (> A ywa-) and *ā-ywe- (> B aiwo-). Further connections are unclear. Possibly with Duchesne- Guillemin (1941:149, followed by Hilmarsson, 1991:127) from PIE *yeu(h_x-) ‘connect’ [: Sanskrit yáuti ~ yuváti ‘bind to, mix,’ Avestan yavayeiti ‘employs oneself with,’ Latin juvāre ‘support, aid, help; amuse, delight,’ (P:508)]. Probably not with VW (140-141) is there any connection with B yu- ‘ripen.’ +See also aiwol and anaiwatstse. +

+ + +
+

+-aiwenta +(n.[pl.tant.]) +‘± group’
+[//aiwenta, -, -] +täṅwaṃñana eś-aiwentasa ‘with individual pairs of loving eyes’ (368a4), śwātsi yoktsine ymassu mäskelle k_use mi[s]=ai[w]e[nta] - tekisa yä[kw]eñe oksaiñe läksaññe wästarye tu wikṣalle (559b4/5), ṣamāni no masār ostuw=aiwentane kakākaṣ tākoṃ śwātsiśco (H-149.X.5b5 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +‣This noun, which only occurs as the second member of a compound and is only surely attested in the plural, has at times been taken as an inflectional ending of a "pluralatative" (so, e.g., Krause and Thomas, 1960). Winter (1962b:115-117) sufficiently disposes of that argument. +∎From PIE *h_xoiwo- ‘unit’ [: Avestan aēva-, Old Persian aiva- ‘one,’ Greek oîos (Cypriot oiwos) ‘alone, lonely,’ and, more distantly Greek oînos ‘ace on a die,’ Latin ūnus (Old Latin oinos) ‘one,’ Old Irish óen ‘one,’ Gothic ains ‘one,’ Lithuanian víenas ‘one,’ OCS inъ ‘one; other,’ Sanskrit eka- ‘one’ (P:286; MA:398-399)] (Winter, 1962b:117, following Krause). +

+ + +
+

+aiwol +(adv.) +‘towards’ [with dative]
+mäkte wranta ckentameṃ kārpaṃ kwri Gānkne [ait]t[a]nka ... po yaneṃ samudtärśc aiwol ‘as the waters from the rivers, if directed to the Ganges, descend and go towards to the ocean’ (30a8). + -- aiwolätstse* ‘directed to’ [with dative]: n[e]rvā[n]äś po aiwolyci mäskentär lnask[eṃ osta]m[eṃ] ‘all those directed towards nirvana come out from [their] houses [i.e. become monks]’ (30b1). +∎An adverbial derivative (perhaps the accusative of an old *-l abstract used adverbially) of aiw-, q.v. Compare the TchA yulā ‘id.,’ the perlative of an l-stem abstract derived from the related yu- ‘be turned toward, be directed toward.’ +

+ + +
+

+aiśamo +(adj.) +‘wise’
+[aiś(a)mo, aiśmopi, -//aiś(a)moñ, aiśmoṃts, -] + aiśmw akn[ā]tsa wat āṃtpi ksa ṣp mā=läṃ mäskentär ‘wise [man] and fool, the two are not distinguishable’ (28b3), cau aiśamoṃ śanmaumeṃ tsälpoṣo = BHS taṃ dhīram bandhanān muktam] (U-18b4). +∎An adjectival derivative from the present/subjunctive stem of aik- ‘know, recognize,’ q.v. (as if PIE *h_aeiḱemon-). +See also aiśamñe. +

+ + +
+

+aiśamñe +(nnt.) +‘wisdom’
+[aiśamñe, aiśamñentse, aiśamñe//aiśamñenta, -, aiśamñenta] +aiśamñe spaktāṃ ślek ompalskoññe cowai ram no tärkananṃ-[m]e pälskoṣṣana krentauna ‘wisdom, service, likewise meditation, he robs them of all spiritual virtues’ (15a8=17b1/2), täryā-aiśamñe = BHS traividyaḥ (31a6), aiśa[mñ]e = BHS vidyā (171a3), aiśamñesa = BHS jñāna- (200a4), aiśamñesa = BHS prajñayā (308b2), ai[śamñe] = BHS -viṣaya (541a6), aiśamñentse kätkarä[ññ]e = BHS buddhigām-bhīryam (H-149.47a5 [Couvreur, 1966:162]). + -- aiśamñeṣṣe ‘prtng to wisdom, knowledge’: aiśamñeṣṣe = BHS prajñā- (12a6), aiśamñeṣṣe = BHS mati- (PK-NS-306/305b1 [Couvreur, 1970:177]); +
+aiśamñetstse ‘one who has wisdom’: waṣamñe [ya]mītär śl[e] aiśamñets[e] = BHS sakhyaṃkurvīta saprajña (308a1). +∎An abstract in -ññe from aiśamo ‘wise,’ q.v. (as if PIE *h_aeiḱemnyo-). +See also śle-aiśamñetstse, s.v. śale. +

+ + +
+

+aiśi +(adj.) +‘knowing’ [po-aiśi ‘all-knowing,’ an epithet of the Buddha (= poyśi, q.v.); aiśi yām- ‘± make appear, make known’]
+[aiśi, -, aiśiṃ//] +menak yamäṣṣäṃ po aiyśi po śärsa ‘the all-knowing one made a comparison; he knew everything’ (407a4/5), /// yapoy aiśi yāmtsi mäkte nauṣ ‘to make the land appear as [it was] before’ (A-4a2), po-aiśintsa = BHS sarvābhijñena (H-149.152a1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930- 32:485]). + -- aiśiññeṣṣe*, only in the compound po-aiśiññeṣṣe ‘prtng to the Buddha’ (73b3=75a4). +∎An adjectival derivative (= nomen agentis) of aik- ‘know,’ q.v. Cf. ākṣi to ¹āks-, nakṣi to näks-, yāmi to yām-, and salpi to sälp-. +See also poyśi. +

+ + +
+

+aiśai +only in the phrases: (a) aiśai yām- ‘take care, take care of, handle, treat (of)’, (b) aiśaisa mäsk- ‘± take notice of’ (?)
+(a) ompakwättñe śaul[antse yāmṣate su ai]śai ‘he treated of the unreliability of life’ (3b3), yāmṣat=aiśai tā_u tallontsai täṅ[waññeñcai palskosa Mahākāśyape] ‘M. treated the suffering one with a loving spirit’ (25a6), aiśai yamaskeman[e] = BHS parihṛyamāṇa [sic] (532b5); +
+(b) ///meṃ wär śār kuṣän-ne []täne amāc aiśaisa näsketär [lege: mäsketrä] (PK-12J-b2 [Thomas, 1979:9]), läc kañcuki [] täne lāntsa aiśaisa näske/// (PK-12J-b3 [ibid.]). +∎TchA eś in the fixed formula eśe ya- ‘take care of, handle, treat’ and B aiśai reflect a PTch *aiśai, an old nomen actionis from aik- ‘know’ (one might compare lukṣaitstse ‘illuminating’ from an old *lukṣai to luks-. +See also anaiśai and possibly aiśaumye. +

+ + +
+

+aiśaumye +(a) (n.); (b) (adj.) +(a) ‘wise one’; (b) ‘wise’
+[aiśaumye, aiśaumyepi, aiśaumyeṃ//aiśaumyi, aiśaumyeṃts, aiśaumyeṃ] +aiśa[mye] = BHS paṇḍitaḥ (12a6), aiśaumyi = BHS vidvāṃsaḥ (31a4), srukor aiśaumyepi olypo [ri]toyt[ä]r päst mā kwīpe rmoytär ‘rather by a wise person should death be sought, [than] shame be not deflected’ (81a3/4), aiśaumye = BHS dhīraḥ (305a2), [aiśau]my[e]n = BHS śrāddhaṃ (H-149. 112b1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:493]). +∎This word is clearly a derivative of aik- but its exact formation is obscure. Do we have *aiśai (see aiśai) + -mye with the further action of dissimilation? +

+ + +
+

+aise +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘power’; (b) ‘surplus, excess’
+[aise, -, aise//] +(a) sśärīräṣṣe [sic] aisemeṃ mutkāre-ne aise mutkāttseś [lege: mutkāttsiś] po mā tsuwa ‘from the power of the śarīra they strengthen it [scil. the porridge]; the power has not completely added to the strengthening’ (107a3/4); +
+(b) aiyse lāṃṣānte k_uśāneṃtsa 310 (490a- III-3), ṣalype kuñcitäṣṣe ~ malkwer mit panit aisene päkṣalle ywārtsa lipāträ ‘sesame oil, milk, honey, molasses in surplus [is] to be cooked; half will remain over’ (FS-a5), /// taṣalya kante kauntsa su aise ṣiyene [or piyene?] litale ‘... [is] to be placed [or] a hundred days; the surplus [is] to be put in a ṣiye’ (W-42a6). +∎Probably with Couvreur (1950:126, also VW:140) this word is to be connected with Sanskrit iṣ- (f.) ‘refreshment, strength, comfort,’ iṣayáti ‘is fresh, strong, lively; refreshes, enlivens,’ iṣirá- ‘strong, lively,’ íṣkṛti- ‘healing,’ Avestan īš- ‘strength,’ aēša- ‘strong,’ Greek hierós ‘vital, holy,’ īáomai (< *ihy-ā- < *h_xisy-eh_a-, a denominative of *h_xis-yo- ‘strong’) ‘heal, cure,’ īātrós ‘doctor,’ and probably Hittite iski(ya)- ‘salve (to groom or to medicate), anoint (for ritual purposes)’ (if < *h_1/4is-sḱe/o-). The TchB aise would be the exact formal equivalent of Avestan aēša-. The underlying verbal root would appear to have meant something like ‘refresh (using a liquid), renew the strength of’ (MA:262). All of these words are usually connected with Sanskrit iṣnāti ~ íṣyati ‘impels, propels, sets in motion,’ iṣaṇyati ‘drives,’ Avestan aēšma- (n.) ‘anger,’ Greek iaínō ‘warm, heat; melt, soften by heat; cheer, refresh,’ oîma (nt.) ‘spring, rush, swoop [of lions, snakes, etc.],’ oimáō ‘swoop or pounce upon’ (only in the future and aorist), Latin īra ‘anger,’ etc. (cf. P:299-301). The semantic equation, however, is by no means self-evident. +

+ + +
+

+aiskatte* +(adj.) +‘± unsullied’ (?)
+[(voc. aiskaccu)//] +/// [na]nākorsa aiskacu ci wī[naskau] ‘unsullied [?] by blame, thee I worship’ (208a4). +∎Hilmarsson (1991:117-118) takes this to be a privative of a subjunctive stem yäskā- of unknown meaning. However, the context of aiskaccu suggests something on the order of ‘untouched,’ ‘unsullied,’ or the like. +See More s.v. yäsk-. +

+ + +
+

+oṃṣap ~ auṣap +(adv.) +‘more’; [tumeṃ oṃṣap ‘moreover’]
+ṣamānentse śwe[r] meñtsa auṣap kākone lamatsi teri mā ṣ ste ‘and there is no way for a monk to stay more than four months by an invitation’ (331a5), suk ce_u palsk[o] päst k[au]ṣäṃ cämpamñe [mä]skītär-ne oṃṣap ‘good fortune destroys this spirit; its power becomes greater’ (A-2b2), ptārka oṃṣap mā tärkanat ‘let [them] through; more do not let through!’ (LP-9a1), śaultsa auṣap paṣṣīmar śīlaṣṣana sälyaino ‘throughout life may I practice more the lines of good behavior!’ (S-3a3), oṃṣap tatākarmeṃ = BHS abhibhūya (U-2a4). + -- tumeṃ oṃṣap ‘moreover’: tumeṃ oṃṣäp no ñakti klyowonträ snai ersna ‘moreover, the gods are called "formless"’ (K-2a3). +∎Given that oṃṣap ~ auṣap are used interchangeably with ṣap in the formulaic caravan passes (‘this [amount] let through; more [oṃṣap ~ auṣap ~ ṣap] than this do not let through!’), it seems reasonable to assume that oṃṣap is a compound of oṃṣ- ‘above’ + ṣap ‘more, and’ (see ṣap and ṣäp). For oṃṣ- and its interchange with auṣ-, see oṃṣmeṃ ~ auṣmeṃ. The necessity for taking into account the synonymous ṣap excludes VW's suggestion (336) that oṃṣap is oṃṣ- + the particle pi found otherwise only in TchA with compound numbers. +

+ + +
+

+oṃṣmeṃ ~ auṣmeṃ +(adv.) +‘(from) above’
+pernerñeṣe Sumersa täprauñentats [tä]rne[ne] śmasta [oṃ]ṣmeṃ snai wace [p]o [wīnask]au[-c] ‘thou hast stood on the summit of the heights over glorious Sumeru; I honor thee above [as one] without a second’ (203a4/5), ṣi[m mā] prākre aipu no iścemtsa oṃṣmeṃ mā yāmu ‘but the roof [is] not solidly covered; [it is] not made with clay above’ (A-2a5). +∎The variant auṣmeṃ is secondary to oṃṣmeṃ in precisely the same way that sauśke ‘son’ is a secondary variant of the more usual soṃśke. That is, there is a variable rule that takes -onS- (-S- = any sibilant) to -auS- in Tocharian B. The earlier oṃṣ- (the -meṃ is the usual ablative ending) matches TchA eṣäk ‘on top of’ except for the addition of the emphasizing particle -k(ä) in the latter. (One should note that despite its shape, A eṣäk probably has nothing directly to do with B eṃṣke ‘while’ as is usually supposed.) B oṃṣ- and A eṣ- reflect PTch *on(ä)ṣä and this in turn must be from a PIE *h_ae/onu-dhi ‘above, on high,’ composed of a form of the locative particle *h_aen ‘up, above’ [: Sanskrit ánu ‘after, along, over, near, etc.,’ Avestan ana ‘over, along,’ anu ‘after, corresponding to, over,’ Greek ána ~ aná ‘over, along’ (dialectally an, on, or un [< on]), ánō ‘up(wards),’ Latin an-hēlō ‘puff, pant,’ Gothic ana ‘on, over, against,’ Lithuanian anót(e) ‘corresponding to,’ etc. (P:39-40; MA:612)] and the "locative deictic" *dhi. (Final *-dhi and *-ti give PTch *-ṣä, cf. Jasanoff, 1987:108-111.) For the whole we can compare the similar Greek ánōthe(n) ‘from above’ (Adams, 1990b:79-81). Not with VW (336) related to om ‘there’ (which in any case is a shortened form of ompe). +See also auṣmiye. +

+ + +
+

+-ok +‣only attested in māwk, q.v. (s.v. mā), and kossauk (s.v. kos). +∎Clearly the equivalent of TchA ok in mā ok ‘not again’ (= B māwk). Though given as ok in B, there is no reason it could not be auk (mā + auk would give māwk just as surely as mā + ok). If so, it would strengthen VW's comparison (1941:78, 1976:329-330) of this etymon with Gothic auk ‘because, but, also’ and Old Norse auk ‘also.’ Whether this particle is further related to PIE *h_aeug- ‘increase’ (cf. B auk-) as VW would have it is debatable. However, it would appear that B ok has an unstressed variant wkä, q.v., which would make B auk unlikely. +See also māwk (s.v. mā), kossauk (s.v. kos), and wkä. +

+ + +
+

+okaro +(n.) +‘Acorus calamus Linn.’ [Filliozat] or ‘aloe [Aquilaia agallocha]’ [Pinault] (a medical ingredient)
+[okaro, -, -//-, -, okronta] +(P-1b2, Qumtura 34-g5 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +‣If Acorus calamus, this word would be synonymous with the borrowed vaca. +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (330), assuming Filliozat's identification, takes this B word to be related to TchA okar ‘plant.’ However, such an identification raises both phonological and semantic difficulties not sufficiently appreciated. If Pinault is right as to the meaning, then it is obviously the equivalent of BHS agaru ‘aloe’ and is presumably cognate with it through some chain of borrowing. +

+ + +
+

+oko +(nnt.) +(a) ‘fruit’; (b) ‘result, effect’
+[oko, okontse, oko//-, -, okonta] +(a) kenmeṃ oko ysāre kälwāwa ‘I obtained fruit and grain from the earth’ (476a2), sälkānte stanāmeṃ okonta ‘they plucked fruit from the trees’ (576a2); +
+(b) yāmornts=oko mā nakṣtär ‘the effect of the deed does not perish’ (4b2), su ce_u rilñemeṃ oko wrocce kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘he achieves a great result by this renunciation’ (8a2), ṣarm okone tserenträ [t]n[e w]n[o]lm[eṃ] ‘he deceives beings here in cause and effect’ (11b2). +∎Clearly it is related to TchA oko ‘id.’ though the identity of form suggests a borrowing from one language to the other rather than true cognacy. Poucha (1930:323, also VW:332) suggest that oko is a derivative of some sort of PIE *h_aeug- ‘grow, increase’ (cf. s.v. B auk-). VW takes TchA oko as the original form and he sees it as a reflex of a putative PIE *h_aeug-o-went- or *h_aeug-eh_a-went-. It is, however, difficult to see the B word borrowed from A, rather than the A word borrowed from B as is far more often the case. Semantically, however, it is most attractive to attach this word to PIE *h_aógeh_a- ‘fruit, berry’ [: Lithuanian úoga ‘berry, cherry,’ Latvian uôga ‘berry; pustule, pockmark,’ OCS (j)agoda ‘berry,’ Russian jágoda ‘berry’ (the Balto-Slavic with a lengthened initial vowel by Winter's Law)] (with Lidén, 1916:34), and a bit more distantly with Gothic akran ‘fruit,’ Old Norse akarn (nt.) ‘fruit of a wild plant,’ Old English äcern (nt.) ‘acorn,’ (dialectal) NHG Ecker ‘id.,’ Old Irish áirne (f.) (< *agrīnyā-) ‘wild plum,’ Welsh eirin ‘plum,’ aeron ‘fruit, berry.’ The underling verb survives in Armenian ačem ‘grow’ (so P:773; MA:63). The immediate pre-form of the Tocharian words would have been *h_aogeh_a-n-. We have here a remarkable Balto-Slavo-Tocharian correspondence. +

+ + +
+

+okt +(number) +‘eight’
+[//okt, oktaṃts, okt] +k[le]śanma pkarsas känt-oktä ‘know the 108 kleśas!’ (44b4), wärsaññe meṃne ikäṃ okne ‘on the twenty-eighth of the month of wärsaññe’ (LP-2a2/3) + -- okt-meñantse-ne ‘on the eighth of the month’; +
+oktäññe ± ‘eightfold’ (?): srukoṣn oktäññe srukallentse ake yā/// (587a6); +
+okt-tmane ‘eight myriads’ [= ‘eighty thousand’]: klokastäṃnmeṃ ok-tmane pletkar-c ysāra ‘blood poured forth from eighty thousand pores’ (S-8a4); +
+okt-tmane(n)maññe ‘± having eight myriads’ (?): [o]k-tmanema[ñ]ñe [lege: oktmanenmaññe?] = BHS [aśīta-sa]hasra [compound not in M-W or Edgerton] (538b1), see Winter, 1991:129 [[>]either a miswriting for the expected *okt-tmanenmaññe or the second -n- has been lost by dissimilation amongst all the other nasals]; +
+ok(t)-yiltse ‘eight thousand’ (401b3); +
+ok(t)-pokai ‘eight-limbed’ (74b5). +∎TchA okät ‘id.’ and B okt reflect PTch *okt(ä) from PIE *h_xoḱtōu [: Sanskrit aṣṭā ~ aṣṭáu, Avestan ašta, Armenian ut` (< *optō by influence of ‘seven’?), Greek oktō, Albanian tetë (< *oḱtōti-), Latin octō, Old Irish ochtⁿ (with nasalization of the following word by influence of ‘seven’ and ‘nine’), Welsh wyth (< *ochtī < *ochtū < *ochtō), Gothich ahtau, Lithuanian aštuonì, all ‘eight’ (P:775; MA:402-403)] (Smith, 1910:13, VW:332-1, though details differ--particularly there is no reason with VW to see the B word a borrowing from A). PIE *-ōu regularly gives PTch *-u (Adams, 1988c:19) whence the rounding of the initial vowel. This PTch *-u is also to be seen in A oktuk ‘eighty’ and probably in the rare B oktunte ‘eighth’ (see s.v. oktante). The form of the word ‘eight’ has influenced the shape of seven in B. Thus we have ṣukt with a rounded vowel and with a -k- unlike A ṣpät which is more regularly from PIE *septṃ. Otherwise, Winter, 1991:110-112. +See also oktatstse, oktante, oktamka, oktankar, and oktār. +

+ + +
+

+oktanka ~ oktamka +(number) +‘eighty’
+/// lakṣānta yetwy oktamka (H-150.117a3 [Thomas, 1972b:442, fn. 7]). + -- oktankar ‘by eighties’ (K. T. Schmidt, 1985:766, fn. 12). +∎The once attested oktamka obviously shows the analogical influence of the word for ‘ninety,’ ñumka. The more common oktanka is formed analogically to ṣuktanka ‘seventy.’ One should compare the differently formed TchA word oktuk which shows the usual decade forming suffix added to the early PIE shape of the cardinal *oktu ‘eight.’ Cf. Winter, 1991: 121. +See also okt, oktankar, and okt. +

+ + +
+

+oktatse * +(adj.) +‘having eight parts, eightfold’
+[m: -, oktacepi, oktace//] [f: oktatsa, -, oktatsai//] +palkas oko oktacepi saṃvarntse ‘behold the fruit of the eightfold saṃvara!’ (23a2). +∎An adjectival derivative in -tse from okt ‘eight,’ q.v. (One would expect -tstse rather than -tse. Perhaps all of our attested forms show defective spellings.) Cf. TchA oktats ‘id.’ which would appear to be from a PTch *oktātse rather than the *oktätse which lies behind the B form. +

+ + +
+

+oktante +(adj.) +‘eighth’
+[oktante (~ oktunte), -, oktañce (~ oktañceṃ)//] +oktunte [sic] (199a4), oktañ[c]e meṃne ‘in the eighth month’ (LP-58a2). +∎TchA oktänt and B oktante reflect PTch *oktänte, a rebuilding of the PIE ordinal *h_xoḱtōwo- (P:775) on the basis of analogy with both ‘seventh’ (PIE *septṃto-) and ‘ninth’ (PIE *newṃto-). The once attested oktunte may reflect the early PTch cardinal *oktu, but more likely it is an analogical reshaping on the basis of ñunte ‘ninth’ (Winter, 1991:138). +See also okt and oktanka. +

+ + +
+

+oktār +(distributive adverb) +‘by eights’
+oktār-tma[ne] ‘in groups of eight thousand’ (574a2/3). +∎Okt ‘eight’ + the distributive -ār. +

+ + +
+

+okso +(nm.) +‘cow, ox’ [generic]
+[okso, -, oksai (voc. okso)/-, -, oksaine (voc. oksaine)/-, -, oksaiṃ(voc. oksaiṃ)] +okso = BHS gova [in the calendrical cycle] (549a6), oksaiś [] oksaineś [] oksai[n]ä[ś] = BHS anaḍuhe [] anaḍudbhyām [] anaḍudbhya (550a1), okso ṣe ‘one cow’ (LP-5a4). + -- oksaiññe ‘prtng to a cow, beef-’ (559b5). +∎TchA ops- (nom. pl. opsi [Pinault, 1997:202]) and TchB okso reflect PTch *okso from PIE *uk^wse/on- [: Sanskrit ukṣán- (m.) ‘ox, bull,’ Avestan uxšan- ‘id.,’ Welsh ych ‘ox’ (< *uk^wsō), Middle Irish oss ‘red deer’ (the archetypical wild animal corresponding to the archetypical domestic animal), Gothic *auhsa ‘ox’ (gen. pl. auhsne), Old Norse oxi ‘id.,’ Old English oxa ‘id.,’ OHG ohso ‘id.’ (P:1118: MA:135)] (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:927, VW:333). Zimmer (1981) emphasizes that all reflexes of this word have as the focus of their meaning the castrated draft ox rather than the bull. Thus there is little likelihood that there is any etymological connection with such words as Sanskrit ukṣáti ‘sprinkles, wets’ with its secondary meaning ‘impregnate.’ +

+ + +
+

+onkarño ~ onkorño +(nf.) +‘± porridge, rice gruel’
+[onkarño ~ onkorño, -, onkorñai//] +sā onkorño tañ śwālya mā ste ... tā onkorñai pintwāt aiskeṃ ‘this porridge is not to be eaten by thee ... they ask [for] this porridge [as] alms’ (107a6). + -- onkarñatstse* ‘containing porridge’ (W-8a4). +∎TchA onkriṃ ‘id.’ (YQ-1.9a7 [Pinault, 1990]) and B onkarño (onkorño must be a younger variant) reflect PTch *onkärñño or *onkräñño. Pinault (1990:170-1) takes the PTch form to reflect a putative PIE *ṇg^hrud-nyo-, a derivative of *g^hreud- ‘± crush, grind’ [: OHG *firgriozan (part. firgrozzen) ‘crush,’ Lithuanian grūdžiù ‘stamp grain,’ Latvian grûžu ‘stamp, pound,’ etc., particularly Old Norse grautr (n.) ‘groats,’ Old English grytt ‘id.’ (> Modern English grits), grot (nt.) ‘rough meal’ (> Modern English groats) (P:461)]. Similar is Hilmarsson, 1991:137. Alternatively one might see here a derivative of onkor ‘together,’ q.v., that is, ‘that which is mixed together’ (VW:338, Hilmarsson, 1986a:44) if, indeed, that is the meaning of onkor. +

+ + +
+

+onkipṣe +(adj.) +‘shameless’
+[m: onkipṣe, -, onkipṣe (voc. onkipṣu)//] +ayātai[cc]e onkipṣe yūkoym palsko ‘may I conquer the untamable, shameless spirit!’ (S-7a2). +∎This word is not in the form we would expect a derivative of B kwipe ‘shame’ to have (i.e. *onkwipeṣṣe or *enkwipeṣṣe). Rather it is a rebuilding of an unattested TchA *ankipṣi, from kip ‘shame,’ the A cognate of B kwipe (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:155). +See also kwipe. +

+ + +
+

+onkor +(adv.) +‘± covered’ or ‘± together’ (??) [onkor mälk- ‘sheathe’ (?), onkor yām- ‘cover’ (?)]
+[stmo]rmeṃ kertteṃ onkor mälkānte śle yärke lāntaś weskeṃ ‘standing [there] they sheathed [their] swords’ (79a2), /// mässäkwä [lege: pässäkwä] t=onkor mälko tākaṃ [k]r_ui kakāccu māka /// (118a6), tane aṃśūktsa onkor yāmormeṃ ‘now having covered [it] with the aṃśūka’ (516b5). +∎If we take the meaning to be as given (cf. Thomas, 1957:92, fn. 1, and Hilmarsson, 1991: 134), rather than the usually suggested ‘together’ (Krause and Thomas, 1964), Hilmarsson (1991:135) may be correct in seeing this word an old compound *e(n) + *kor, where the latter PIE *kowh_xṛ (or perhaps *kowh_xru-) ‘covering’ from the widespread PIE *(s)keuh_x- ‘cover’ (cf. P:951). Taking the meaning to be ‘together’ we have Hilmarsson (1986a:44) who would see this as the old absolutive of enk- ‘take, grasp’ used adverbially (*‘taken [together]’ > ‘together’). A PTch *enk-or should regularly give onkor by rounding. The regular absolutive enkor has its initial vowel by paradigmatic analogy. Less likely it seems to me is VW's suggestion (338) of a putative PIE *ṇ ‘in’ + gōr-u- (from *ger- ‘gather;’ cf. B kār) or Pinault's (1990:170) of a relationship with Greek ánkūra (< *ankur-ya) ‘anchor’ from *h_aenk- ‘bend.’ +See also perhaps onkarño and enk-. +

+ + +
+

+onkorño +See onkarño. +

+ + +
+

+onkolmo ~ onkolma +(n.m/f.) +‘elephant’
+[onkolmo (m.)/onkolma (f), onkolmantse, onkolmai//-, onkolmaṃts, -] + [kantwo=rṣ]āklaṃts ramt klautso ramt onkolmantse wāska[mo] ‘moving like the tongue of snakes or the ear of an elephant’ (3b4), Airawantaṃtse onkolmaits [sic] lānte sayi [lege: soyi] ramt śuñc ‘a trunk like that of A., the king of the elephants’ (74a4), [o]nkolmaisa lmau iyoy ‘he went seated on an elephant’ (415b3). + -- onkolmaññe ‘prtng to an elephant’: onkolmaññe ānkär ‘elephant tusk/ivory’ (PK-NS-13+516a1 [Couvreur, 1967:154]), onkolmaññe āy/// ‘elephant bone’ (W-20b3). +∎TchA onkaläm ‘id.’ and B onkolmo reflect PTch *onkolmo (with regular dissimilation of *o ... o to o ... a in TchA--cf. A onkrac ‘immortal’ but B onkrotte or A orpank ‘rostrum’ beside B orponk). However, extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are most uncertain. Suggestions abound: Sapir (1936b:264-266) takes it to be onk- ‘man’ + -a- the regular junction vowel in compounds + -läm- ‘sit’ as ‘man-sitter’; VW (337-338) considers it to be *h_aenk- ‘bend’ (cf. Greek ankōn ‘elbow’) + *-olmōn; Normier (1980:255) thinks of *h_xonk- (cf. Greek ónkos ‘barb of an arrow,’ Latin uncus ‘hook’) + *-ālmā (not further explained); Hilmarsson (1986a: 198) varies Normier's suggestion in taking it to be from *h_aṇku- ‘hook, curve, bend’ (cf. Avestan anku- ‘hook,’ Greek ankúalos ‘curved,’ Old Norse ǫngull ‘(fish) hook’) + *ālme ‘living being’ (also seen in on-olme ‘creature’; Rasmussen (1988:170-171) refines the latter by taking *ālme to be from *h_aolmo-, comparing Armenian hoɫm ‘wind,’ < *h_aonmo-, a derivative of *h_aen- ‘breathe’); alternatively Rasmussen (1988:172-177) sees a PIE *h_aṃb^hi-k^wḷh_x-meh_a-, related to Greek amphí-polos ‘servant’ and Latin ancilla (f.)/anculus (m.) ‘servant’; finally Hilmarsson later suggests (1991:158-159) that it is in PIE terms ṃǵ(e)h_a ‘great’ + *h_aon(h₁)mōn ‘the one having breath’ (perhaps a calque on something like Sanskrit mahā-mṛga- ‘elephant’ (< *‘big animal’). All of these, while at times ingenious, seem unlikely formally and/or semantically. +
+If on insists on an Indo-European source, there are other possibilities. It could be divided onk-olm-o (or, more underlyingly, enk-elm-o) where -o is the nominative singular of an old ōn-stem and the ultimate source of the preceding rounded vowels, -elm- is the same abstract forming suffix -elme as in syelme ‘sweat’ and enk- is of course ‘grasp, seize.’ Under this scenario we have the ‘grasper’ or ‘seizer’ which would seem to be a sensible designation of the elephant with its prominent, prehensile trunk. Alternatively -mo might be the same possessive suffix we see in klyomo ‘noble’ (< *‘having fame’) and what precedes it a PIE *h_aongul-, parallel to the *h_aengur- that lies behind ānkär ‘tusk,’ q.v. +
+Given that elephants are not native to Inner Asia, a borrowing into Tocharian from some non-Indo-European language would seem to be likely but no putative source for such a borrowing has been identified. (Not with Ivanov [1985:412-413] should we see the Tocharian word for ‘elephant’ borrowed from the same Austro-Asiatic source as the Chinese word for ‘ivory’ unless we can place pre-Tocharian speakers in some sort of geographical proximity with speakers of an Austro-Asiatic language.) +

+ + +
+

+onkrotte* +(adj.) +‘immortal’ (or onkrotstse*?)
+[m: -, -, onkrocce//] +onkrocce cew īken[e] ‘in this immortal place’ (390a3). +‣Largely synonymous with onuwaññe, q.v. +∎TchA onkrac ‘id.’ (indeclinable) and B onkrotte (if that is the correct nominative singular) reflect PTch *onkrotte. (The dissimilation of *o...o to o...a in TchA is perfectly regular--one should compare A orpank ‘rostrum,’ B orponk, A onkaläm ‘elephant,’ B onkolmo.) Surely, with Hilmarsson (1986a:252-262, 1991:155-156), it is to be taken, in origin at least, as the privative of AB kwär- ‘age, grow old,’ q.v., whatever the latter's exact origin is (PIE *ǵerh_a- ‘be/grow old’ or, Hilmarsson's choice, *d^hg^wher- ‘perish’). The details, however, are not clear. Perhaps exceptionally we have in origin a privative built on a present stem, i.e. *enkwrette. In the closed, word-internal, syllable *-kwret- the *-w- caused rounding of the *-e- even when it did not in the open final syllable of enkwe ‘man.’ Because the privative had become semantically detached from the rest of the paradigm of kwär-, it was not subject to analogical replacement by -e-. The resultant -o- caused rounding of the initial *e-. VW (338) also takes this word to be a derivative of PIE *ǵerh_a- but the details of his explanation are very different. +

+ + +
+

+oñt* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, oñt//] +k_use oñtn[e] kärtkäṣṣäṃ /// ‘whoever defecates [?] in the oñt’ (259a1). +‣Rather than a locative singular, it would be possible to take oñtne as an accusative dual. +

+ + +
+

+ot +(adv.) +‘then’ [both temporal and final]
+/// parkän-me te ot pontso yes cenäśco ‘[if] they ask you, then tell them this’ (7a2), /// kärstau ṣem ot su meṃstr olyapotse = BHS chinnākṣaḥ śocate bhṛśam (13a4), te yamīcer yes ot tāṃ pātrai warpoymar ‘may you do this, then [that?] I may enjoy these alms’ (20a5), a[l]l[o]nkn=ostwaśco mas= Ānande ot pintwāto ‘then to other houses went Ā. [for] alms’ (23b6), ot wärsa plewe ra ken mai[wāte] ‘then the earth shook like a raft on water’ (338b1). + -- otak ‘id.’ (ot + strengthening particle -k(ä)) (109b8, 462a5). +∎Meillet (in Hoernle, 1916:381, also VW:344) takes ot to reflect a putative PIE *h_aet + u with the same *h_aet that underlies Latin at (< *ati) ‘moreover, yet,’ Greek atár ‘on the contrary, nevertheless,’ and Gothic aþþan ‘but,’ and that PIE particle *u that, as an intensifier and marker of old information, is historically a part of so many resumptive pronouns/adverbs in correlative constructions in Tocharian (see sū, mant, and tot). However, there is no good evidence that a PTch initial *ā- (from PIE *h_ae-) would be rounded by a *u and the semantic leap from ‘but, moreover’ to ‘then’ is not a small one. I would prefer to start from *uth_a + u, where *uth_a is also the ancestor of Avestan uiti ‘so’; the phonological development is absolutely regular and the semantic change a small one. +

+ + +
+

+on(u)waññe +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘immortal, eternal’; (b) ‘immortality’
+Adj. [m: onwaññe, -, onwaññe//] [f: -, -, onwaññai//] N. [-, onwaññentse, onwaññe//] +(a) [mā] sū nesäṃ k_use onwaññe tākoy ‘there is no one who is immortal’ (2a2), ket ait yoktsi sāṃtk= onwaññe pelaiykneṣṣe ‘to whomever thou dost give the immortal remedy of the law to drink’ (212b3/4); +
+(b) onwaññentse se twere tīkṣṇendryets ‘this [is] the door to immortality for those with sharp senses’ (41a5). +‣Largely synonymous with onkrotte, q.v. +∎Probably (following Hilmarsson, 1986a:28, also 1991:157, though the details differ) we have here a descendant of a putative PIE *ṇnh_awṇyo- (?) [: Old Irish naunae (f.), Welsh newyn (m.) ‘starvation’ (< *nəw_enyo-), Breton naoun ‘id.’ (< *nəw_eno-?) (so P:756)], a derivative of *neh_aw- ‘perish; lack’ (more s.v. naut-). The exact shape of the preform for both Tocharian (Hilmarsson starts from *-nuh_anyo-) and Old Irish is difficult. It is perhaps the case that the Celtic forms represent a PIE *nowh_an(y)o- while the Tocharian ones reflect a verbal stem *nuh_a-eh_a-, seen otherwise if TchA nwām ‘sick,’ plus the common adjectival and abstract forming suffix -ññe. In any event not with VW (336- 337) related to ūwe ‘capable.’ +See also naut-. +

+ + +
+

+onolme +(nm.) +‘creature, (living) being; sentient creature; person’
+[onolme ~ wnolme, wnolmentse, wnolme ~ onolme ~ onolmeṃ//onolmi ~ wnolmi, onolmeṃts ~ wnolmeṃts, onolmeṃ ~ wnolmeṃ] +[po tetemo]ṣäṃts onolmeṃts srukalñe ṣp ṣek ‘and to all born beings [there is] always death’ (2a3), wnolmentso = BHS nṛṇam (3a4), onolme = BHS jantu (8b6), wnolmeṃ = BHS prāṇinam (11a8), piṣ [lege: piś] cmelaṣṣeṃ onolmeṃts ‘of the beings of the five births’ (369b1), wn[o]lme = BHS pudgala (524a4), onolmi = BHS janaḥ (H-149.112b3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-33:493]). + -- onolmeṣṣe ‘± prtng to a being, etc.’ (150a4). +∎In onolme we have a derivative of the verbal root *ān- ‘breathe’ (cf. anāsk-) by the addition of the same abstract forming suffix *-elme seen in syelme ‘sweat’ from *sye-). A PTch *ān-elme would give regularly onolme by Mutual Rounding (Adams, 1988c:21). Semantically we have *‘breathing’ > *‘breather’ > ‘living being.’ The etymology goes back in nuce to a suggestion of Meillet's (in Hoernle, 1916:381, also VW:335-336). VW cogently compares Sanskrit prāṇin- ‘having breath, breathing, living; living being, human.’ Not with Hilmarsson (1986a:199) from *h₁e/on- ‘in’ + *ālme ‘living being.’ Somewhat better is Rasmussen's revision (1988) whereby we have *h_aen ‘on’ + *h_aolmo- (itself from *h_aonmo-, a derivative of *h_aen- ‘breathe’) ‘he whose breath is on him; dessen Atem anwesend ist’ but the form and semantics seem more complex than is necessary. More s.v. anāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+onmiṃ* +(n.) +‘remorse, repentance’ [onmiṃ yām- ‘repent, feel remorse’]
+[-, -, onmiṃ//] +mā walke nke ñiś ksemar tu-postäṃ onmiṃ tākaṃ-me ‘[it is] not long and I will be extinguished; thereafter there will be repentence to you’ (29a8), su onmiṃ yāmṣate kawāte- ne añ[m]ā[laṣke] ‘he repented and the pitying one loved him’ (34a2). + -- onmiṣṣe* ‘prtng to remorse’ (TEB-64-05); +
+onmissu* ‘remorseful’ (521b7=K-5a3). +∎Formally identical with TchA onmiṃ ‘id.’ One may suppose that either B has borrowed from A or A from B but the direction of the borrowing and further connections, if any, are uncertain (Hilmarsson, 1986a:57 "unclear"). VW (335) suggests that we have on- the intensive prefix (see e(n)-) + *min, the equivalent of Sanskrit mení-, Avestan maēni- ‘vengence’ [: also Old Irish mían (nt.) ‘wish, desire,’ OHG meina (f.) ‘sense, meaning,’ meinen ‘mean, say,’ Old English mǟnan ‘mean; tell, speak; complain of, bewail,’ *mān ‘complaint’ (> English moan), OCS měnjǫ ‘mention’ (cf. P:714; MA:410)]. However, it would appear that a PIE *ṇm- or *on-m- would give B em- or A om- (see the discussion at emalle ‘heat; hot’). I would suggest starting from a putative PIE *h₁opi-meino- (nt.). Such a form would have given *epmäinä > *epnäinä (by labial dissimilation) *emnäinä (cf. samne ‘trance’ from PIE *supno-) > *omnäinä (by rounding before a labial in a closed syllable) > *onmäinä (by regular metathesis) > onmiṃ. Such a hypothesis has the advantage of making onmiṃ the quasi morphological equivalent of English bemoan. Other suggestions seem less likely. Čop (apud Thomas, 1985b:111) suggests a PIE *h_aenu-menyu- ‘Nachdenken’ and Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985b:111) suggests a Middle Iranian source *anu-mi-mnā-. Finally, Hilmarsson (1991:160) suggests that we might connect this word to mi- ‘damage.’ +

+ + +
+

+ontsoytte +(adj.) +‘insatiable, unsatisfied’
+[m: ontsoytte, -, ontsoycce//] +[yärpo]ntasa ontsoyte tarya witskaṃ nautässiś ṣek sp[e]lkessu ‘unsatisfied with meritorious works, may I always [be] zealous to destroy the three roots’ (S-6b5), ontsoyce lkālñe = BHS asecanadarśanam (U-25b5). + -- ontsoytñe ‘insatiability’ (11b2); +
+ontsoytñeṣṣe ‘prtng to insatiability’ (33b1). +∎The privative of soy- ‘satiate,’ q.v. (i.e. en- + soy- where the first -o- of ontsoytte is due to o-umlaut and the first -t- is epenthetic). Cf. TchA asinät ‘insatiable’ from sin- ‘satiate’ and Hilmarsson, 1991:84-85. +

+ + +
+

+op +(n.) +the designation of some sort of foodstuff (‘fat’? or ‘fat’ and also ‘larder’?)
+[op, -, op//] +śwer meñantse-ne trukāle aśari Sarwarakṣite wasa || kantine śwālene śro-kant[i]ś yikṣye śwāra cakanma ṣkas tom || pa - - - (-)nteś śwāra cakanma || opiś cāk piś tom ‘on the fourth of the month, [as] provisions, the acarya S. gave, in [the form of] bread and edibles, flour for śro-bread four cāks and six tau ... four cāks and for (the) op one cāk and five tau’ (433a15-17), oṣ [lege: op?] no mi[t wa]t ma [lege: mā] arañc k[ā]t[k]ästär ‘however neither op nor honey gladdens the heart’ (591b7). +‣If correctly restored at 591b7, op would seem to indicate that the -i- of opiś (433a17) is secondary (*-ä- > -i- in the environment of a palatal) as it is in the dative sānkiś ‘for the community’ (nominative/accusative singular sānk) in the same document. In 591b7 it is clear that op is something to eat that is good and/or rich. At 433a17 op may be parallel to the preceding śro-kanti and if so it would surely be some sort of (rich?) breadstuff but the intervening lacuna invites caution. +∎If the meaning has been correctly identified, perhaps we have PIE *h₁op-ú- ‘fat’ [: Hittite appuzzi- (nt.) ‘animal (sheep) fat, tallow’ which Puhvel (1984:103ff.) relates to Latin adeps ‘suet, lard’ and opīmus ‘fat’ (< *opi-pīmo-, where *-pīmo- is ‘fattened’). Possibly we should add here Lithuanian ápstus ‘abundant’ (if the latter is not from *h₁op-sth₂-u- with Fraenkel, 1962:14--more s.v. epastye). All of these in Puhvel's view are derivatives of a PIE *h₁ep- ‘grease’ and separate from *h₃ep- ‘work’ [: Latin opus, operārī ‘be active,’ Sanskrit ápas ‘work,’ āpas ‘sacrificial act,’ etc. (P:780)] (more s.v. ekṣalye). For the etymology, see Adams, 1990b:82, MA:194. +

+ + +
+

+opi +See op. +

+ + +
+

+oppīloñ* +(n.pl.) +‘± threads, cords’
+[//-, -, oppīloṃ] +pässaksa oppīloṃ tetarkuwa rano = BHS [mālā]guṇa-parikṣiptā api ‘like ones invested with the marriage-threads,’ i.e. ‘marriageable women’ (542a4). +‣This line is given here as it was written by the original scribe of the MS. This rendition was apparently very literal, a word for word equivalence of the Sanskrit text it glosses. It has been heavily, and confusingly, corrected (or perhaps better, revised) by a second hand, presumably to provide a more intelligible rendition. Preceding pässaksa the corrector has written oppīloṃcceṃ below the line; the original oppīloṃ has been struck out and below written ṣṣe palīsa wat. Sieg, Siegling, and Thomas' reconstruction (1953:339, fn. 11 & 12), attempting to take all of these revisions into account reads: pässaksa [pässak]ṣṣe palīsa wat oppīloṃcceṃ tetarkuwa rano. However, the second pässak has to be supplied by Sieg, Siegling, and Thomas and it seems better to me to assume that we have here two attempts at correction or revision. In the first revision the original was amplified by adding -ṣṣe palīsa wat, giving: pässaksa oppīloṃṣṣe palīsa wat tetarkuwa rano ‘like [those] entwined [vel sim.] by a garland or a cord [vel sim.] of oppīloṃ’ ( = ‘threads’?). Perhaps thinking this revision too involved, the corrector went back to the original but struck out oppīloṃ and inserted the more idiomatic derived adjective oppīloṃcceṃ (an acc. sg. in -eṃ as sometimes occurs) before its head noun. Thus we have: oppīloṃcceṃ pässaksa tetarkuwa rano ‘like [those] entwined [vel sim.] by a garland of oppīloṃ (= ‘threaded garland’?).’ In any case it seem certain that BHS mālā- was seen as the equivalent of TchB pässak, -guṇa- of oppīloṃ and -parikṣiptā of tetarkuwa. + -- oppīloṃtstse*: (see discussion above); +
+oppīloṃṣṣe: (see discussion above). +∎Etymology unclear. It might be that we have an old compound of *h₁opi- + pulu- or *pilu- ‘hair’ [: Old Irish ul (< *pulu-) ‘beard,’ Latin pilus ‘body hair’ and Sanskrit pulakāḥ ‘the bristling of the hairs of the body due to pleasurable excitement’ (P:850; MA:251)]. (For parallels for the semantic change ‘hair’ > ‘thread,’ see Adams 1988a). The original meaning of the compound might have been ‘over-thread’ or the like, a possible designation for a particular kind of thread or of cord (Adams, 1990b:82-85). VW (339) is certainly wrong to think we have a case of an intensive prefix o- + pīlän- (with -pp- ‘secondary’), the latter related to Albanian palë ‘fold.’ Hilmarsson (1991:140-143) also connects this word with *pel- ‘fold’ and takes our word to be *en- + *pälän- ‘cover.’ For him the whole collocation would mean ‘over’ and translate Sanskrit pari-. +See also oppīläñ* and pali. +

+ + +
+

+oppīläñ* +(n.pl.) +‘± characteristics’ (?)
+[//-, -, oppīläṃ] +pañäkte alyekä kca stām ñor niṣīdaṃ raksate lyama ~ Kāḷodāye rano alyekä kca stām ñor oppīläṃntsa niṣīdaṃ raksate lyama ‘the Buddha spread out [his] sitting-mat under some tree or other and sat down; likewise did K. spread out a sitting-mat oppīläṃntsa under another tree and he sat [on it]’ (H-149.X.4a4/5 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +‣This is obviously a doublet or phonological variant of the previous entry but its exact meaning in this context is difficult to discover. It is often taken to be ‘row’ or ‘series’ or the like but such a meaning is not compelling in the context and not likely to be a translation of BHS guṇa- which its doublet oppīloṃ glosses. Perhaps it is a calque on guṇa- in the latter's meaning of ‘quality, characteristic.’ If so Kāḷodāya may be laying out a sitting-mat ‘of [better?] quality, with [better?] characteristics’ than the Buddha's. Alternatively as Melchert suggests (p.c.) it may be that the point of the passage is that K's sitting-mat is (appropriately) more humble than that of the Buddha or (inappropriately) more opulent. A ‘sitting-mat of threads’ could be, in the first case, one so worn as to be threadbare or, if sitting-mats were commonly made of straw, one made of cloth and thus of unseemly opulence. Hilmarsson (1991:142) reaches entirely different conclusions and takes the word to mean ‘cover’ vel sim. +See also oppīloñ*. +

+ + +
+

+om +See omp. +

+ + +
+

+omotruññaiṣṣe +(adj.) +‘southern’
+[omotruññaiṣṣe, -, -//] +kom-pirkomeṃ ... omotruññaiṣṣe ... kom-[k]läskomeṃ ... oṣṣalemeṃ ‘from the east ... omotruññaiṣṣe ... from the west ... from the north’ (Otani-19.1a3/4 [Pinault, 1998]). +‣The meaning is posited by Hilmarsson on the basis of the semantic parallelism with the other cardinal directions. +∎Etymology uncertain. Hilmarsson (1991: 132-133) hesitantly suggests a connection with motartstse ‘green’ but the semantics are not convincing. Perhaps we have a virtual PIE *h₁ṇmēdh-r-uh_x -n-yeh_a- (a similar concatenation of suffixes occurs in ṣotri ‘sign’), derived from *medh- ‘middle’ in the sense of ‘midday’ or, alternatively, an original meaning of ‘in the desert’ or the like in opposition to the ‘in the mountain(s)’ that lies behind oṣṣale ‘north.’ +

+ + +
+

+omte +(adv.) +‘there, in that place; here, in this place’
+k_use sw aśāw=omte yare krāke wat kärweñi ‘that which [is] rough here: gravel, dirt, stones’ (7a7), [Brahma]datte ñem walo ṣai sū no śeritsi lac omte wartone śarabhe ñe[m] ‘B. [by] name was the king; he went out to hunt there in the forest the śarabha [by] name’ (358a2), omte ṣe = BHS tavaike [lege: tadaika] (547b6). + -- omtek ‘id.’ (PK-AS16.3a6 [Pinault, 1989]); +
+omteṃ ‘id.’: mäkte omteṃ tañ maiyyane sankantse spelke kuśalapākṣ ayāto tākaṃ yāmtsi ‘so here in [his] strength will he be able to establish zeal and good behavior in the community’ (TEB-74-7). +∎A compound of omp ‘there’ + the neuter deictic pronoun te, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+omp +(adv.) +‘there, at that place’
+[s]t[ā]m ñor ṣek su mäskīträ omp akalṣlyeṃts pelaikn=āksaṣṣi ‘he was always under the tree, there he expounded the law to [his] disciples’ (3b3), kwri war tākaṃ yolmene wināññenträ omp lwāsa ‘if there is water in the pool, there animals will enjoy themselves’ (11b4), /// saryat=ompä poyśintse asāṃ spe kenne witskaṃ ‘he planted there near the Buddha's seat the roots in the ground’ (388a2). +∎Om(p) is the apocopated variant of ompe, q.v., just as ket ‘whose’ is the apocopated variant of kete ‘id.’ +See also ompe and omte. +

+ + +
+

+ompakwättäññe * +(n.) +‘untrustworthiness, unreliability’
+[-, -, ompakwättäññe//] +ompakwättñe śaul[antse yāmṣate su ai]śai ‘he treated of the unreliability of life’ (3b3). +∎This is clearly the abstract noun derived from empakwatte ‘unreliable’ but the difference in the rounding of the initial vowel is difficult. Hilmarsson (1986a:58) would see a change of *emp- to omp- as quasi-regular but the abstract and its underlying adjective might be expected to act alike even in quasi-regularity. +

+ + +
+

+ompalsko +(n.) +‘± meditation’
+///m ̇ ompalsko sū rṣāke (360b4). + -- ompalskoṣṣe ‘prtng to meditation’: tsirauwñeṣṣe kauṣn āya ompalskoṣṣe mrestīwe pakṣäṃ ysomo ‘it kills the bone of energy and cooks [it] together with the marrow of meditation’ (S-4b1). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- (here showing rounding due to the labial environment) + palsko ‘thought’ (itself a derivative of pälsk- ‘think’), qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:133). The TchA equivalent, plyaskeṃ, is an independent derivative of pälsk-. +See also ompalskoññe. +

+ + +
+

+ompalskoññe +(nnt.) +‘meditation’
+[ompalskoññe, -, ompalskoññe//ompalskoññenta, -, -] +ṣlentse tronkne lyam=ompalskoññe ‘in a cave of the mountain he sat in meditation’ (4b7), ompalskoññe päst prankäṣṣäṃ natknaṃ lauke aiśamñe yarke peti ñaṣtär ‘he inhibits meditation, presses far [away] wisdom, and seeks honor and flattery’ (33b2/3), kalymisa ompalskoññe oktante [kalymisa ompalskoññe = BHS samyaksamādhi] (112b5), ompalskoññe yänmaṣṣäṃ = BHS samādhim adhigacchati (U-9a2). + -- ompalskoññeṣṣe ‘prtng to meditation’ (73b5, 281b4). +∎ompalsko ‘id.’ to which the abstract suffix -ññe has been added. +

+ + +
+

+ompe +(adv.) +‘there’
+/// maści śūwaṃ ompe /// (123a5). + -- ompek ‘± right there’: cew yāmorsa ompek ra tsa tänmaskenträ ‘by that deed they are reborn right there’ (K-2b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. When compared to omp, clearly ompe is the older, fuller, form and thus must be our etymological starting point, thus ruling out most of the theories recounted by VW (334), including his own. Hilmarsson (1986a:58, 69-70) assumes a PIE *h₁ṇb^ho with a semi-regular change of *emp- to omp- (cf. ompakwättäññe ‘unreliability’ but empakwätte ‘unreliable’). In Hilmarsson's view *h₁ṇbho is composed of PIE *h₁ṇ ‘in’ (the full-grade form *h₁on would do as well--more s.v. ¹e(n)-) and a particle of affirmation *b^ho [: OCS bo, Lithuanian bà, or Avestan bā]. This hypothesis is semantically weak but might be improved by assuming a PIE *h₁om(u) ‘that’ [: from PIE *h₁emu- Sanskrit amútra ‘there,’ amúthā ‘thus,’ amú- ‘that’ (not found in the nominative)]. +See also omp and omte. +

+ + +
+

+ompostäṃ +(adv.); (postposition) +‘afterwards’; (postposition) ‘after, concerning’ [ompostäṃ i- ‘follow’]
+[yśelmeṣṣ=o]mpostäṃ yokaiṣṣe ce kraupe weña ‘concerning sensual desire he spoke this section [about] thirst’ (8a7), nrain=ompostäṃ tä[nmastär] ‘afterwards he was [re-]born in hell’ (20a1), śeśwer ompostäṃ masa pudñäktentse ‘after eating he went to the Buddha’ (23b6), takarṣk[ñ]etse no āyor ompo[stn=ā]rtaskemane ‘the believer rejoicing in the gift’ [ompostn=ārtaskemane = BHS anumodamānaḥ] (23b7/8), skwänma śaiṣṣe kolokträ iwerune wränta ramt ceṃ läklenta ompostäṃ kolokanträ skiyo rā ‘the world follows good fortunes like waters in an iweru; sufferings follow them like a shadow’ (255a2/3), [o]mp[o]stä paspārttarmeṃ = BHS anuvartya (305a5), ce_u āklyisa cmelane ompostäṃ yneṃ-ne ‘by this teaching they follow in births’ (A-2b5), [ompos]täṃ ynūca = BHS anugāminī (H-149.245a5 [Thomas, 1969:310]). + -- ompostäṃ-wṣīlñe* ‘consequence’: /// [ompo]stäṃ-wṣīlñentasa mā sälkoṣäṃts ‘[the roots of desire] with [its] consequences not being pulled up’ [ompostäṃ = BHS anu] (11a7). +∎The intensive prefix e(n)- (here with a rounded vowel because of the following -o- + postäṃ ‘after,’ qq.v. (cf. Hilmarsson, 1991:133-134). +See also tw-ompostäṃ, s.v. tu. +

+ + +
+

+omprotärtstse* +(adj.) +‘related as brothers’
+[//omprotärcci, -, -] + tumeṃ cey wi omprotärcci kāśyapi ṣesa [aklaṣlyeṃ]mpa maitare pañikte- käṣṣiñiś ‘then the two bebrothered Kāśyapas [= the two Kāśyapa brothers], together with [their] pupils, went up to the Buddha teacher’ (108a8). +‣In idiomatic Tocharian usage the plural of an adjective meaning ‘having a brother’ or ‘having a sister’ is used for ‘brothers’ and ‘sisters’ respectively. One should compare TchA (A-144a2) kṣatriṃ pratri tiṃ ‘these two kshatriya brothers’ with a different adjectival formation from pracar ‘brother’ (pratri < *bhreh_atrih_xo-?). This pratri is neither an anomalous dual noun nor a scribal blunder as is often supposed. In TchB one should compare the analogous eṣerñe ‘related as sisters.’ +∎From e(n)- (the intensive prefix, here with vowel rounded in the labial environment) + protär- ‘brother’ + -tstse the possessive adjective suffix (see the discussion in Hilmarsson, 1991:124). +

+ + +
+

+or* +(nnt.) +‘wood’
+[-, -, or//-, -, ārwa] +vṛddhisa orne ‘through the growth in the wood’ (34a1), Dhanike ñem ṣamāne Ajātaśatruñ lānte amplākätte or kamāte ‘a monk, Dhanika [by] name, without king A.'s permission, gathered wood’ (H-149-ADD.8a3 [Thomas, 1957:124]), rājavṛkṣä-stamaṃtse arwāmeṃ koṣkīye yamaṣlya ‘from [pieces of] wood of the rājavṛkṣa-tree a hut [is] to be made’ (M-3a6). + -- oraṣṣe ‘prtng to wood, made from wood, wooden’ (194b1); +
+or-śacākare ‘ratification on a piece of wood’: or-śacākare ākṣa (LP-2a3/4) [see also sa yakār]. +∎TchA or ‘id.’ and B or reflect PTch *or which must be connected in some fashion to PIE *dóru ‘tree, wood’ (so already Schneider, 1940:203) [: Sanskrit dāru (nt.) ‘wood’ (gen. dróḥ ~ drúṇaḥ), drú- (m./nt.) ‘wood, wooden implement’ (m.) ‘tree, branch,’ Avestan dāuru (nt.) ‘tree-trunk, piece of wood, wooden weapon’ (gen. draoš), Greek dóru (nt.) ‘tree-trunk, wood, spear,’ Albanian dru (f.) ‘wood, tree’ (< *druh_a-eh_a-), drushk ‘oak,’ drizë ‘tree’ (*dri < *druh_a [an old collective] + -zë a diminutive suffix), Welsh derwen ‘oak’ (plural derw), Gothic triu (nt.) ‘wood, tree’ (< *drewo-), triggs ‘true’ (< *dreuh_ai-), Old English teoru (nt.) ‘tar’ (< *derwo-), OCS drěvo ‘tree’ (< *derwo-), drъva (nom.pl.) ‘wood’ (< *druh_a-eh_a), Lithuanian dervà (f.) ‘tar’ (< *derweh_a), etc. (P:214-217; Hamp, 1978; MA:598)]. It is the nature of this connection that is in dispute. It is probably best to assume that the loss of PIE *d- began in the weak cases, such as the gen. where *drous would have given regularly PTch *reu (so Hilmarsson, 1986a) or that the initial *-d- was lost by misdivision of *to(d)dóru to *tod óru (as perhaps in akrūna ‘tears’ and other neuter nouns beginning with *d-, see Hamp, 1967) or both. Not with VW (340) do we have a PIE *dru- (nt.) prefixed by the "intensive prefix ā-." +

+ + +
+

+or- +See ār-. +

+ + +
+

+ore +(n.) +‘± dust, dirt’
+[ore, -, -//-, -, wrenta] +kārpa nāṣṣa lyyāsa wrenta po laikāte ‘he descended, bathed, washed away the dust and cleaned himself up completely’ (107b4). +∎Hilmarsson (1986a:19-20) suggests a connection with Old Norse ar ‘dust, mote’ from a PIE *h₁orom. But one would expect a PIE *er(e) from such a source. Thus Hilmarsson suggests a conflation of *h₁oro- (nt.) with the descendant of a putative PIE collective *h₁oreh_a which, in his view, would have given in the first instance *oro. In any case, it would appear to be a derivative of *h₁er-/h₁or- ‘rise’ and thus be ‘that which rises up.’ Perhaps we have *h₁orwo- (> *erwe > *orwe > ore. Formally comparable are Avestan aurva- ‘quick, brave,’ Old English eru ‘prepared, ready, quick,’ etc., and especially Greek oũros (~ óros ~ ōros) (nt.) ‘mountain.’ Not with VW (340) from a putative PIE *uro- and related to Sanskrit vār ‘water’ or a putative TchB ²wärs- ‘spot, stain.’ +See also er-. +

+ + +
+

+orotstse ~ wrotstse +(adj.) +‘great, big, large’
+[m: orotstse ~ wrotstse, oroccepi ~ wroccepi, orocce ~ wrocce (voc. oroccu ~ wroccu)//orocci ~ wrocci, orotstseṃts ~ wrotstseṃts, orocceṃ ~ wrocceṃ] [f: orotstsa ~ wrotstsa, -, orotstsai ~ wrotstsai//orotstsana ~ wrotstsana, -, orotstsana ~ wrotstsana] + oroccu walo ārwer ptāka pelaikneṣṣe naumiye klyauṣtsi ‘O great king, be ready to hear the jewel of righteousness!’ (100b5), orotse = BHS -mahā- (251b2), [aśvame]t wärñai yāmäṃ wrotstsana telkanma ‘[if] he offers the aśvamedha, etc., the great sacrifices’ (290a1), orotstsai ytāri = BHS mahāpatham (305a3), orotstse yātalñe = BHS mahardhikayo (543b1), ñorīya kātso orottsa tākaṃ ‘[if] the lower belly is big’ (W-14a6). + -- orots(tsäñ)ñe ‘± size’ (S-5a1); +
+orotstse-cämpamñetstse* ‘having great capabilities’: cai yakṣī orotstse-cimpamñecci ‘these greatly capable yākṣas’ (506a3); +
+orotstse-yātalñetstse* ‘id.’ (506a2); +
+orotstse-pācer* ‘grand-father’: /// [o]rotse-pacere nesteñy antpī ktsaitsī eś-lmoṣä /// ‘my grandfathers [= perhaps ‘grandparents’?] are both old and blind’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [K. T. Schmidt, 1987:288]). +∎VW (341) assumes an intensive prefix ā- + a PIE *wrh_xd^h-to-, the latter related to Sanskrit vrādhanta ‘they are big’ (?) and vrādhant- ‘being big’ (?). (Neither translation of these hapax legomena is assured by its contexts.) Hilmarsson (1986a:260) suggests a putative PIE *h₁or-eh_a-tyo- where *h₁or- is from *h₁er/h₁or- ‘rise’ and *h₁oreh_a- is a derived abstract with a meaning ‘± increase’ or the like. But the underlying abstract *h₁oreh_a- is not otherwise attested and it is phonologically difficult for those who do not believe that the normal development of PIE *-eh_a was Tocharian *-o-. However, Hittite attests a derived u-stem adjective from *h₁er/h₁or-, namely aru- ‘high.’ Puhvel (1984:178) takes this to reflect a PIE *h₁ṛú- but *h₁or-ú- would do just as well, as u-stem adjectives have a predilection for o-grade in the root (cf. Hittite suwaru- ‘weighty, heavy, mighty’ and Lithuanian svarùs ‘heavy’ beside Lithuanian sver̃ti ‘heave, weigh’). A PIE *h₁orú- ‘± big, tall, high’ would give a derived abstract *h₁oru-(e)h_a- whence an adjective *h₁oruh_a-to- (cf. Latin acūtus ‘sharp’ from *h_aeḱuh_ato-). The transfer within Tocharian of a to-adjective to a tyo-stem is of course very common. This word is perhaps related within Tocharian itself to TchA aryu ‘long(-lasting)’ (< *h₁or-ye-went-?). +
+An alternative, that would divorce orotstse from A aryu, is suggested by Melchert (p.c.) who would connect orotstse with Hittite and Luvian ura- ‘great’ (the Hittite word has not hitherto been recognized though the Luvian has). Anreiter (1984:14) mentions this equation as a possibility. The semantic equation between the Tocharian and Anatolian words would, of course, be perfect. For the Tocharian we would have to start from *ur-u-, whence a derived abstract *uru-(e)h_a-, etc., while the Anatolian might be from *uro-, *euro-, or *ouro-. Thus this equation is weaker formally than the one that equates Tocharian orotstse with Hittite *aru-. +See also er-. +

+ + +
+

+ork(a)mo +(a) (n.); (b) (adj.) +(a) ‘darkness’; (b) ‘dark’
+N. [ork(a)mo, -, ork(a)mo//]; Adj. [f: -, -, orkamñai//-, -, orkamñana] +orkmo yneś kr_ui tākan-ne ‘if it should appear dark to him’ (139a4), orkamñana nraintane ‘in dark hells’ (255a6), orkamñai = BHS tamasā (H-149.236a3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:497]). + -- orkamotstse* ‘dark’: [mä]kte orocce lyamne orkamotsai yaṣine meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña kos ālpaṃ warne ‘as in the great sea on a dark night, the light of the moon and the stars reflects in the water so much’ (154b2); +
+orkamotstsäññe ‘blindness’: orkamotsäññe = BHS andhatvaṃ (537a3). +∎TchA orkäm ‘id.’ and B ork(a)mo reflect a PTch *orkmo (as if) from PIE *h₁(o)rg^wmon- (with the initial *o- by rounding from the nominative singular). This *h₁ṛg^wmon- is from PIE *h₁reg^w- ‘dark’ [: Sanskrit rájanī- ‘night,’ Greek érebos (nt.) ‘darkness of the underworld,’ orphnó- ‘dark’ (< *h₁ṛg^w-sno-), Armenian erek ~ erkoy ‘evening,’ Gothic riqis (gen. riqizis) ‘darkness,’ Old Norse ro/kkr ‘darkness, twilight’ (P:857; MA:147)] (Petersen, 1933:21, VW:340-1). +See also orkamñe. +

+ + +
+

+orkamñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘darkness; blindness’
+[orkamñe, -, orkamñe//] +[aknātsaññeṣṣ]=orkamñe wīkäṣṣeñca ‘destroying the darkness of ignorance’ (99b2), [aknātsaññeṣ]ṣe orkamñe kauṣeñc[antse] = BHS ajñānatimiraghnasya (H-149.47b2 [Couvreur, 1966:162]). +∎An abstract built on orkmo ‘dark,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+orkäntai +(adv.) +‘back and forth, to and fro’
+iryāpathänta śwāra yāmṣate lyama śama mas=orkäntai lek yamaṣṣa lyśalyñeṣṣe ‘he performed the four iryāpathas: he sat, he stood up, he walked back and forth, and he made the gesture of lying down’ (108b5), sū naṣṣi orkäntai ‘he swam back and forth’ (H-149.69a3 [Thomas, 1957: 61]). +∎Etymology unclear. Hilmarsson (1991:143-145), following a suggestion of Winter (1988:786), suggests *e(n)- + *h₂wērg-(w)ṇt- and a relationship to yerkwanto ‘wheel.’ Not with VW (341) related to Old Norse rugga ‘shake, balance.’ +See also possibly yerkwanto. +

+ + +
+

+orkmo +See ork(a)mo. +

+ + +
+

+orponk +(n.) +‘± platform, rostrum’
+(K-T). +∎TchA orpank ‘id.’ and B orponk would appear to be descendants of a PTch *orponk (the dissimilation of *o ... o to o ... a is regular in TchA--cf. onkrac ‘immortal’ beside B onkrotte and onkaläm ‘elephant’ beside B onkolmo). If the meaning is correctly identified, it is possible that we have a compound of or- ‘wood’ + -ponk, an element of obscure meaning and origin (see VW:341). Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985:141) suggests a Middle Iranian source *ārupōng < *ārupa-vana-ka- ‘balkon, verdieping, verhoog.’ +

+ + +
+

+olank +(adv.) +‘enough; easy; cheap’
+wlankä (38a2), k_use ṣamāne karyor pito yamasträ olank kärnāsträ kwāts plankṣäṃ pärkāwse pelkiṃ ‘whatever monk does buying and selling and buys cheap and sells dear for profit’ (337b3), ṣale tapre murtaṣe olank nai nke rankatsi ‘[it is] surely easy to climb the high mountain of exaltation’ (554b5), ente ra tsa olankä-nesalñetse empalkaitte wṣeñaine ompals[k]oñ-ñentse ayātoścä auñentaṃtse mäsket[rä] [olankä-nesalñetse ‘having sufficient existence’] (561a3/4), po tañ olaṅ tu ‘all that [is] easy for thee’ (Pe-2b3). +∎Presumably related in some fashion to olya ‘more,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+olākwāṃ* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, olākwāṃ//] +ikäṃ-trai kṣuṃntsa śtarce meṃne Putewette olākw[āṃ]ne aisi yakwe kärnāsi yātka-me ‘in the twenty third year of the regnal period, in the fourth month, P. commanded them to give in the olākwāṃ, in order to buy a horse’ (KLOST.37,22 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]). +

+ + +
+

+-oläntse +only in the phrase or compound snai-oläntse. Meaning unknown.
+s[n]ai-oläntse [reading uncertain] koyñi ra ṣkas yälloñ pīle nätkau ra takälñe (PK-NS-53-b5 [Pinault, 1988:101]). +

+ + +
+

+ololyesa +(adv.) +‘± even more’
+sū ololyesa ākteke wantare yamaṣa ‘he did an even more astounding thing’ (77a3). +∎Related in some fashion (by reduplication?) to olya ‘more,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+olpo +(adv.) +‘more’
+sāsa [lege: se su = k_use su] lkālñe śaiṣṣene poyśintsy [lege: poyśintsa] olpo mā nesäṃ (296a4), eṃṣke alyek śaiṣṣene yāmors=olpo mā nesäṃ karsoṃ wnolymi ‘even in another world there is nothing more than the deep; may [all] beings know [it]!’ (S-3b3/4). +∎A variant of olyapo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+olsompaka +‘?’
+/// olsompaka we-/// (621a7). +

+ + +
+

+oltsorsa +See aultsorsa. +

+ + +
+

+olya +(adv.) +‘more’
+śtwer meñtsa postaññeṣ ṣamānentse pudgalyik kāko wä[rpa]nalle tumeṃ olya wärpatar [lege: -tär] pāyti ‘for four months at the latest [is] a personal invitation to be enjoyed by a monk; [if] he enjoys more, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3a2/3 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), ’vly’/t// [= oly-āstre] (Gabain/ Winter:13 ([in Manichean script]). +∎Etymology unclear. Meillet (in Hoernle, 1916:381) suggested a connection with Gothic alls ‘all’ and Old Irish oll ‘amplus’ (see s.v. allek) but such a connection does not easily account for the initial vowel in the Tocharian word. Melchert wonders (p.c.) if pre-Tocharian did not have a *ol-u- to which was suffixed the well-known comparative suffix *-yes-/-is-. A nominative singular *-yōs might have resulted in Tocharian -ya. Neither semantically nor phonologically compelling is VW's connection (333) with the family of PIE *wel- ‘press.’ For Hilmarsson (1986a:64) it is "unclear." +See also olyapo and olank. +

+ + +
+

+olyapo +(a) (adv.); (b) (conj.) +(a) ‘more’; (b) ‘rather (than)’
+(a) k_use wat śaulo posa olypo tūn=akalṣlyeṃ r[i]ttästsi ‘or what the best of all possible lives [is] to bind in it [his] disciples’ (24b5), ṣäṃṣalñe sū tne westrä piś klautkeṃntsa ṣäṃṣalñe | menki olypo trīwäṣlñe astarñe ṣpä ‘counting is here called by five forms: [true] counting, less, more, mixed, and pure’ (41a7/8), [o]ktman-olypo kessante ‘more than eight myriads were extinguished’ (421.1b), rätkware ṣpä ceṃts n_äno n_äno olypo tākaṃ kwri ‘and if it is again and again very sharp to them’ (K-3a5); +
+(b) [o]lypo ṣañ ṣarsa kautoy ksa pat ce_u mā=tākacce nāki weñi papāṣṣoṣäts krentäṃtsä ‘rather would someone destroy with his own hand a stūpa [than] speak ungrounded blame on the good [who] have behaved morally’ (15b4= 17b6), kwri yarke peti ṣey-me kurpelle ost olypo ṣaicer makci lamalyi ‘if there was to you concern for honor and flattery, rather you yourselves should have stayed sitting at home’ (33a7). + -- olyapotstse ‘more, very’: kwreṃntär lānte kokalyi olyapotstse pärsāñci ‘the wagons, very colorful, of the king age’ [olyapotstse = BHS su-] (5a8), olyapotstse welñe = BHS adhivacana (170a6), śamñe cmeltse yänmalyñe olypotse ṣpä waimene ‘achieving human birth [is] very difficult’ (295b5), [olya]potstse = BHS bhṛśam (305a4), akwatse pilko olyapotse = BHS atīkṣṇacakṣuṣaḥ (545a1), mäkte ost karttse aipoṣ swese mā olypotse kauṣn ‘as a house well covered the rain does not harm much’ (A-2a1/2), olyapotstse waime[n]e = BHS sudurharam (H-149.315b1 [Thomas, 1968a: 203]), [olyapo]tstse kātkeṃ aiśaumyi = BHS abhinandanti paṇḍitāḥ (H-149. 315b2 [Thomas, 1969:314]), teksa-ne ka no mrauskate olypotse sū tāka pudñäkte ‘but no sooner did it touch him [than] he became very weary of the world and he became a buddha’ (K-11b3); +
+snai-olyapo ‘± incomparable’: se tā śuwaṃ onkorñai snai olyapo aiśamñe su yinmāṣṣäṃ ‘[if] he eats this incomparable porridge, he will obtain wisdom’ (107a2/3). +∎olya ‘more’ + po ‘all,’ qq.v. +See also olya. +

+ + +
+

+olyi* +(nf.) +‘boat’
+[-, -, olyi//] +Gānkne olyisa tseñe kätkäṣṣar ‘cross the stream of the Ganges by boat!’ (296b4), kektseñäṣṣai olīs[a] ‘by the bodily boat’ (564a3), kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat ‘he guides a boat upstream or downstream’ (PK-AS-18A-b4/5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]). +∎Etymology uncertain. Traditionally it has been compared with TchA olyi ‘id.’ However, as Hilmarsson points out (1986a:33-34) what we actually find is olyik in an obscure context (A-29b2). It is possible, but by no means assured, that we should divide olyik as olyi + -k, an intensifying particle. Since Hansen (1940:151, also VW:334) this word has been connected with Lithuanian aldijà ‘boat,’ OCS ladiji ‘id.’ However such an equation is impossible (cf. Hilmarsson (1986a:196) since the acc. sg. in Lithuanian is al̃diją, indicating a short first syllable in Proto-Balto-Slavic and thus must reflect *h_xold^h- rather than the *h_xold- demanded by Tocharian. Perhaps olyi reflects a putative PIE *h₂(o)uluh₁en-, most closely related to TchB auloñ ‘vessels (of the body),’ itself from a putative PIE *h₂euluh₁en-, related to the *h₂eulo- seen in Greek aulós (m.) ‘hollow tube, pipe, groove; flute,’ Latin alvus (f.) ‘belly, womb, stomach; hold of a ship; beehive’ (< *aulos by metathesis), alveus (m.) ‘hallow, cavity; trough; hold of a ship; beehive; bed of a river,’ Hittite halluwa- ‘hollow, pit,’ etc. (more s.v. auloñ) (cf. P:88-89)]. The original meaning would have been ‘± hollowed out log, dug-out canoe.’ +See also olyitau and possibly auloñ. +

+ + +
+

+olyitau +(n.) +‘boatman’
+[olyitau, -, -//] +Gānkne olyitau nes twe epastya ‘thou art a boatman on the Ganges, O skillful one!’ (296b3). +∎A derivative of olyi* by means of an agentive suffix -ttau. One should compare käryorttau ‘merchant’ vis-à-vis karyor ‘business negotiation, purchase.’ +

+ + +
+

+oś +only in the compound oś-kakāmau ‘led astray’
+lkāskau śaiṣṣe tallānto [o]ś kakamaṣ kleśanmats /// ‘I see the suffering world led astray by kleśas’ (94a3=PK-NS-36+20b5 [Couvreur, 1964:243]). +∎Borrowed from some Middle Iranian source. One should note particularly Khotanese ośa- ‘evil, bad’ (Hilmarsson, 1986a: 340). Not with VW (344) inherited (as if from an otherwise unattested *ungi-) and related to Old Norse vakka ‘to err.’ +

+ + +
+

+ośonai +(adv.) +‘out of enmity, hostility’ (?)
+/// [kaly]m[isa] ośonai palsko /// (H-149.add.117b1 [Hilmarsson, 1991: 145]). +‣The meaning is assigned (by Hilmarsson, following Broomhead) on the basis of a presumed relationship with ścono ‘hate,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+oṣl(^.)naṃts +‘?’
+///m oṣl ̇naṃts welñe /// (170a3). +

+ + +
+

+oṣle +(adv.) +‘?’
+oṣle pākre klainämpa kca treṅsate ‘oṣle and pākre he was hanging on some woman or other’ (69a2). +‣Meaning uncertain. Usually taken as a metrically shortened for of oṣṣale. Sieg and Siegling (1949) assume a meaning ‘at night; in the west’ for oṣṣale/oṣle. However, it is clear that oṣṣale actually means ‘north’ and thus a meaning of ‘in the evening’ for oṣle is most unlikely. Given the widespread association of ‘north’ and ‘midnight’ in Indo-European (cf. Buck, 1949:870-873, and particularly the semantic equation of ‘midnight’ and ‘north’ in Breton hanternoz, Czech pu̥lnoc, and Polish póɫnoc), one might suppose that the TchB adverb oṣle might be ‘(at) midnight.’ However, the Indo-European data collected by Buck makes it clear that the association of ‘midnight’ and ‘north’ is (1) always because an original ‘midnight’ has also come to mean ‘north’ and (2) such an association only occurs in languages which also show a development ‘midday’ > ‘south.’ Tocharian B shows neither of those characteristics and if oṣle and oṣṣale are related, it must be on the basis of some other semantic development. +
+Hilmarsson (1991:121-123) is surely correct in taking pākre as ‘± in the open’ and thus oṣle should be an antonym, thus ‘within an enclosure,’ ‘privately,’ ‘secretly,’ or the like. (Hilmarsson himself [1991:145], assuming a connection with oṣṣale, takes it to be ‘in the dark.’) None of these possible meanings (including Hilmarsson's) suggests any semantic equation with ‘north’ or the ‘mountain’ which underlies ‘north.’ Perhaps the equation of oṣle and oṣṣale should be abandoned. +

+ + +
+

+oṣṣale* +(n.) +‘north’
+[-, -, oṣṣale//] +kom-pirkomeṃ ... omotruññaiṣṣe ... kom-[k]läskomeṃ ... oṣṣalemeṃ ‘from the east ... omotruññaiṣṣe ... from the west ... from the north’ (Otani-19.1a3/4 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +‣The crucial evidence for the meaning of oṣṣale comes from the Otani MS, where it is clearly one of the cardinal directions and equally clearly not ‘west’ which has sometimes been supposed. + -- oṣṣaleṣṣe* ‘north, northern, northerly’: [o]ṣale[ṣṣ]ai [kä]ly[m]ine ‘in the northern direction’ (509b4), [o]ṣṣaleṣṣe nauntaine ‘in the northern street’ (612a5). +∎Winter (1988:785-787) relates this word to TchA direction word ṣuliñc which he takes to mean ‘west’ though to my mind ‘northeast’ would seem to be more likely in the admittedly fragmentary contexts in which it occurs. In any case ṣuliñc is clearly a derivative, at least historically, of ṣul ‘mountain’ (cf. B ṣale ‘id.’). Taking ṣul/ṣale to reflect PIE *swelo-, he adds oṣṣale to this group as *ōswelo- ‘near the mountain.’ Better would be *h₁ṇswelo- (cf. the *h₁ṇ- in omotruññaiṣṣe ‘south’). Certainly in the geographical context of the northern rim of the Tarim Basin, a relationship of ‘mountain’ (i.e. the Tian Shans) and ‘north’ makes excellent sense. +
+Not with Isebaert (1987), assuming a meaning ‘west,’ a borrowing from an (unattested) A source and related to TchA oṣeṃ ‘night’ (cf. yṣiye). Nor with Hilmarsson (1991: 153-154), despite his ingenious argument, from *h₁e(n)- + PIE *sḱew(h_x)elo- ‘covering’ [: Old Norse skjól ‘cover, hiding place’ (< Proto-Germanic *skeula-), skáli ‘room, small building’ (< *skawalan)]. He compares also *sḱeuas in OCS sěverъ ‘north,’ Lithuanian šiáurė ‘north,’ Old Norse skúr ‘rain-shower,’ English shower (P:597). However, all of the words meaning ‘north’ have an *-rrather than an *-l-. He takes the Tocharian word to reflect something like *sḱewh_xelo- (> *ṣṣäw'äle- > *ṣw'äle- > *-ṣṣäle-) but one would expect secondary -ṣwto remain in Tocharian. +See also ṣale and possibly oṣle. +

+ + +
+

+oskiye* +(nf.) +‘± house, dwelling place’
+[-, -, oskai ~ oskiye//] +[wāy=ot ce]m oskai ‘he led him [to] the house’ (25a1), tswaiñ[e] ka yku päst kreṃnt ṣamāññemeṃ ṣañ oskai ‘having gone directly from good monasticism to his own housing’ (44b6). +∎TchA oṣke ‘id.’ and B oskai- look to me to reflect a PTch *ost(ä)kāi-, a derivative in -kā- of *ost ‘house.’ The reduction of the heavy consonant cluster in the middle of the word must be independent in the two languages as it occurred after the change of *-st- to -ṣt- in TchA. Hilmarsson's suggestion (1986a:70, following a suggestion of Emmerick's) of a borrowing from Khotanese auskā- ‘dwelling’ is semantically fine but doesn't account for the vowel of B oskai or the -ṣ- of A oṣke, unless both are taken to be independent changes in the direction of the inherited ost/waṣt ‘house.’ In any case, not with VW (343) related to Sanskrit úcyati ‘be accustomed to.’ +See also ost. +

+ + +
+

+ost +(n.) +‘house’ [ostmeṃ länt- ‘to become a monk, to lead a (Buddhist) religious life’ (lit. ‘to leave [one's] house’); ostmeṃ ltu ‘a monk’ (lit. ‘one who has left his house’), contrasted with osta-ṣmeñca ‘householder, layman’ (lit. ‘house-sitter’)]
+[ost, -, ost//-, -, ostwa] +/// mīsasa ost astāṣṣe ‘[seeing] through the flesh the house of bones’ (9a8), riṃne k_uṣaiṃne ostwane ṣek yeyeṃ ceṃ lkatsi ‘they were always going into cities, villages, and houses to see him’ (31b6). + -- ostaṣṣe ‘prtng to the house’ [cf. TchA waṣtaṣi]: yes rintsi mā campcer pel-ostaṣṣe ‘you cannot renounce the prison of [your] house’; +
+ostaññe* ‘householder’ [cf. TchA waṣtiṃ]: tumeṃ cew ostaññi nāksante-ne skarāre-ne ‘then the householders reproached him and scolded him’ (337a5); +
+ostañña* ‘female householder’: ostaññai Tsyohkñaimpa ‘the householder Ts.’ (346b5); +
+osta-ṣmeñca ‘householder’: ostä-ṣmeñcaṃ ostmeṃ ltuweṣ ‘householders and [those who] have left the house [i.e. those who have become monks]’ (33b4); +
+osta-ṣmemane* ‘id.’: ostä-ṣmemanentse māka kurpelle ‘a house-holder has much to be concerned about’ (33a5). +∎TchA waṣt ‘id.’ and B ost reflect PTch *wost. A waṣt rather than *woṣt reflects the action of ā-umlaut in the plural *wǫstwā (regularly > waṣtu). The B plural ostwa could be either from *wǫstwā or *wostwā with the vowel of the singular generalized. This PTch *wost is clearly cognate with Sanskrit vāstu ‘house, dwelling,’ vástu ‘place, seat, thing,’ and Greek (w)ástu ‘city.’ It has been traditional to connect this etymon with the verbal root seen in Sanskrit vásati ‘dwells,’ Greek á(e)esa (aor.) ‘remain’ (always with núkta ‘night’), Old Irish fōaid (< *h₂weseti) ‘spends the night’ (cf. also foss (m.) [< *h₂wosto-] ‘sojourn, rest’), Arm. goy ‘is (present),’ Gothic wisan ‘be’ (cf. also Old Norse vist (f.) [< *h₂westi-] ‘sojourn’), Hittite hwes- ‘be (alive),’ huski- (< *hus-sḱe/o-). Cf. P:1170-1171, Smith, 1910:19, VW:549, MA:281. Both Greek and Hittite presuppose a PIE *h₂wes- for this verb, however, which appears to be incompatible with a relationship with Greek (w)ástu. Perhaps Proto-Greek *wástu, with its admittedly difficult root vowel, is a borrowing from some non-Greek but Indo-European language of the Balkans which had already lost the initial laryngeal. PTch *wost, Sanskrit vāstu, and pre-Greek *wástu might reflect PIE *h₂wóstu-. +See also oskiye and probably wṣeñña, yṣiye, and wäs-². +

+ + +
+

+au +(interjection) +‘Oh’
+tumeṃ weña au ~ watkaṣṣi pi pañäkte niṣīdaṃ ñremeṃ kälymi raso tsamtsi ‘therefore he said: Oh, may the Buddha command the sitting-mat from the fringe on one span broader to grow’ (H-149.X.4a5/6 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+auk¹ +(n.) +‘snake, serpent’
+[auk, -, -//-, -, aukäṃ] +[arṣā]klo auk catä tsākaṃ ‘[if] a snake, serpent, or cat should bite’ (503a2), auk = BHS ahi [in the calendrical cycle] (549a7). +∎Etymology uncertain. Pisani (1941-42:24) connects this word with Armenian awj ‘serpent’ (if < pre-Armenian *aug^whi-) though the latter is usually related to the family of Latin anguis ‘snake’ (cf. infra). Krause (1961) hesitantly suggests a connection with Sanskrit ójas- ‘force’ (< *h_aeug- ‘grow,’ cf. auk²). VW (153) compares Greek augē (f.) ‘bright light,’ augázō ‘illuminate,’ augázomai ‘see distinctly,’ assuming TchB auk- would be to Greek aug- as Greek drákōn is to dérkomai ‘see distinctly.’ However, even if drákōn is correctly connected with dérkomai (as ‘the one with the [baleful] glance’ or the like), it is not clear that auk would have a similar history since it is not obviously an agent noun or a participle as drákōn might be. +
+More likely is a connection with PIE words meaning ‘snake.’ Pokorny (43-45, s.v. ang^u(h)i-) collects a number of Indo-European words meaning ‘snake,’ ‘eel,’ vel sim. which he takes to represent a single etymon (possibly two) whose multiplicity of shapes (presence or absence of *-n-, media vs. aspirata, labio-velar, vs. plain velar, vs. palatal) he attributes to taboo deformation and crossing. It is better to divide this group into four etyma (MA:529-530, 264): (1) *h_a(e)ng^wh(i)- ‘snake’ [: Latin anguis (m./f.) ‘snake,’ Lithuanian angìs (f.) ‘snake,’ Old Prussian angis ‘nonpoisonous snake,’ Armenian awj ‘snake,’ OCS *ǫžь- ‘snake,’ Middle Irish esc-ung ‘eel’ (< *‘water-snake,’ ung < pre-Celtic *ang^whō), OHG unc ‘snake,’ and "Illyrian" ábeis ‘ékheis’ (Hesychius)]; (2) acrostatic *h₁óg^whi- ~ h₁ég^whi- ‘snake’ [: Greek ékhis (m./f.) ‘viper’ (< pre-Greek *éghi-), ékhidna ‘id.’ (< *ékhidnya), Armenian iž ‘snake, viper’ (< *h₁ēg^whi-), OHG egala ‘leech,’ Welsh euod ‘sheepworm,’ euon ‘horseworm’ (< Proto-Celtic *egi-), Greek óphis (m.) ‘snake,’ Sanskrit áhi- (m.) ‘snake,’ Avestan aži- (m.) ‘id.’ (the lack of a labio-velar in Greek ékhis and ékhidna must be attributed to contamination with groups three and four)]; (3) *Vng^hel- or *Vng^hur- (plus other suffixes) ‘eel’ [: Latin anguilla ‘eel’ (in its form influenced by anguis), Greek énkhelūs (f.) ‘id.’ (influenced by ékhis), Old Prussian angurgis, Lithuanian ungurýs (assimilated from *angurýs), Finnish (borrowed from Baltic) ankurias, all ‘eel’ (< *Proto-Baltic *anguriya-), OCSǫgulja ~ jęgulja, Proto-Slavic *anguri- (Russian úgor', etc.), and Albanian ngjalë (< pre-Albanian *Vng^hellā- [Hamp, 1969, though there is no reason to follow him in seeing it a borrowing from Slavic which, in any case has no similar form])]; (4) *h₁eǵ^hi- ‘hedgehog’ [: Greek ekhînos (m.), Armenian ozni (< *h₁oǵ^hīnyo-), OHG igil (< *h₁eǵhīlo-), Lithuanian ežýs (< *h₁eǵ^hiyo-), and OCS ježь] (there is some folkloristic evidence that the hedgehog was a snake-killer par excellence so it may be that ‘hedgehog’ is a derivative of a ‘snake’ word but there are phonological difficulties). Probably in TchB auk reflects PIE *h₁óg^whi- ‘snake.’ Normally such a form would have given a PTch *ekw (PIE *-i- did not cause palatalization in Tocharian in the environment of either *-w- or *-s-; Adams, 1988c:15). auk (i.e. *ewk) is simply metathesized (much as Proto-Germanic *aug-an- ‘eye’ is from PIE *h₃ok^w-). +

+ + +
+

+auk² +See ok. +

+ + +
+

+auk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘grow, increase’ (intr.); K ‘make grow, make increase’
+G Ko. V /aukā-/ [A -, aukat, -//; Inf. aukatsi]; +
+K Ko. II /auk^'ä/_e-/ [MPOpt. auśimar, -, -//] +///tstsa weṣṣäṃ aukat [t]sāmat ra māka no kawātse /// ‘she says: thou wilt grow and increase ...’ (516b4); /// [ka]lloymä onwaññe pelaikne ṣe auśimar piś-cmelaṣṣeṃ ‘may I obtain the immortal law! Likewise, may I cause [those] of the five-births to increase!’ (S-8b3). +‣This verb is essentially atelic (cf. the apparently telic auks-) and approximately equal to tsäm-. +∎TchA ok- and B auk- reflect PTch *auk- from PIE *h_aeug- ‘make grow, make increase’ [: Latin augeō ‘augment, increase; (rarely) grow (intr.)’ (< *h_aeuge-ye/o-), Old Norse auka (a strong verb) ‘id.,’ Gothic aukan ‘id.’ (both < *h_aeuge/o-), OHG ouhhōn ‘id.,’ Old Saxon ōkian ‘id.,’ Old English ēacian ‘id.,’ Old Norse auka (a weak verb) ‘id.’ (< *h_aeug-eh_a-ye/o-), Old English īecan ‘increase in numbers’ (intr.) (< *h_aeug-ye/o-), Gothic auknan ‘id.,’ Lithuanian áugu (áugti) ‘grow’ (P:84-85; MA:248)] (Fraenkel, 1932:230, VW:329). Germanic *aukō- (< *h_aeug-eh_a(-ye/o)-) is at least the formal match for Tocharian aukā- and likewise the thematic *auk- of Proto-Germanic (< *h_aeug-e/o-) may well be old and matches the TchB "causative" (i.e. transitive) subjunctive auk^'ä/_e- exactly. The present *auks^'ä/_e- that we expect to correspond to this subjunctive would be another old iterative-intensive that has relegated the older present to the subjunctive. +See also auki, auks- and possibly auśiye. +

+ + +
+

+auki +(n.) +‘± increase’ [auki nes- ‘± to best’]
+[auki, -, -//] +/// wñā-ne waimene ikäṃ pkārsa wäntarwa [] maiyyācempa airṣaitsñe auki nestsi waimene /// ‘he said to him: know the twenty difficult things! [it is] difficult to best the vehemence of a strong [one]’ (127b3). +∎In TchA there is a single attestation of the equivalent okäm (A-215b1 ṣäptäñcäṃ koṃ śla klop wraṣäl ṣpäy pāk - -p wākñam ci okäm pätstsār ‘on the seventh day with pain and suffering I will split for thee the seven parts [?]; set out more [?]’). Whatever the exact meaning, TchB auki and A okäm reflect PTch *auk(ä)mi̯ä(n) (cf. B wāki, A wākäm ‘distinction’ and B nāki, A nākäm ‘reproach’ and Adams, 1993:23-24), a derivative of auk- (A ok-) ‘increase, grow.’ PTch *auk(ä)mi̯ä(n) is matched by Sanskrit ojmán (m.) ‘strength,’ Latin augmen(tum) (nt.) ‘increase,’ and Lithuanian augmuõ (m.) ‘plant, veget ble.’ Not with VW (330) separated from auk- and connected to Greek augē ‘bright light.’ +See also auk-. +

+ + +
+

+auks- +(vi.) +‘± sprout, grow up’
+Ps. XIa /auksäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, auksäṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. IV /aukṣi-/ [Inf. aukṣitsi]; PP /aukṣu-/ +[o]stn=auksäṣṣäṃ sū mātri /// ‘he grows up at home; [his] mother's ...’ (121a1); [au]kṣitsi = BHS virūḍhim (H-149.314b5 [K. T. Schmidt, 1984: 152]); kṣatriññempa āklu ñiś sakne aukṣu ‘learnèd in kṣatriya-lore I [have] grown up in good fortune’ (89a1). +∎Related to TchA ok- (cf. particularly the present oksis-) and B auk-, reflecting PIE *h_a(e)u(e)ks- ‘grow, increase,’ an élargissement of h_aeug- ‘id.’ [: Sanskrit vakṣáyati ‘makes grow,’ Old Norse vexa ‘make grow,’ Gothic wahsjan ‘grow,’ Old Norse vaxa ‘grow,’ OHG wahsan ‘id.,’ Old English weaxan ‘id.,’ Sanskrit perfect vavakṣa ‘grew,’ ukṣati ‘grows,’ Avestan aorist vaxšt ‘grew,’ uxšyeiti ‘grows,’ causative vaxšayeiti ‘makes grow,’ Greek aéksō ‘make grow,’ aéksomai ‘prosper, increase (intr.),’ aúksō ~ auksánō ‘make grow; (later) grow,’ Latin auxilium ‘help’ (P:85; MA:248)] (Fraenkel, 1932:230, VW:329). It is difficult to know exactly what the PIE paradigm looked like--even Indic and Iranian fail to agree outside the causative. Sanskrit vakṣáyati, Avestan vaxšayeiti, and Old Norse vexa agree in both form (< *wokse-ye/o-) and meaning (‘make grow’). The superficially identical Gothic wahsjan ‘grow’ (intr.) must be independent, an iterative-intensive built from the *wokse/o- that lies behind OHG wahsan, Old English weaxan, and Old Norse vaxa. The Greek transitive aéksō must also be a new formation. Greek aúksō and TchB auks- directly and Latin auxilium indirectly witness to a PIE *h_aeuks- ‘make grow, make increase.’ That TchB auks- is intransitive may be explained in the same way that Greek aúksō also becomes intransitive in its later history. +See also auk- and auki. +

+ + +
+

+auñento +(n.) +‘beginning, initiative’
+[auñento, auñentantse, auñentai//] +[snai yko]rñe [au]ñento ste po krentaunaṃts ‘diligence is the beginning of all virtues’ (12a1), ayātoścä auñentaṃtse ‘inclined to initiative’ (561a3/4). + -- tw=auñentai ‘thereupon’: tw=auñentai [ṣpä] weña tarya ślokanma toṃ ‘thereupon he spoke these three ślokas’ (27b2). +∎TchA oñant and B auñento reflect PTch *auñento, a nomen actionis from *aun- ‘begin’ (cf. aun-.) +

+ + +
+

+aun- +(vi./vt.) +G Active ‘strike’; Middle ‘begin’; K ‘cause to begin’ ?
+G Ps. Xa /aunäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, aunaṣṣäṃ//, MP -, -, aunastär// -, -, aunaskentär; Ger. aunaṣṣälle]; Ko. I /aun-/ [A // -, -, auṃ; MP -, -, auntär// -, -, aunantär]; Impv. III /paunsā-/ [Pl. pauntsat]; Pt. IIIa /aun(s)ā-/ [A -, aunasta, -// -, -, aunar; MP -, -, auntsate// -, -, auntsante]; PP /aunu-/; +
+K Impv. IV /paunäṣṣā-/ +nāki-welñe-preresa ce_u aunaṣṣän-me arañcne ‘with this arrow of reproach-telling he wounds them in the heart’ (15a8=17b1), koynameṃ yolo were onolments aunasträ wrātsi ‘from the mouths of [such] creatures begins to be smelled an evil smell’ (K-8b3); [kwri no] cwi palsko käskāträ waiptār aunträ makatsi ‘if, however, his spirit is scattered apart and he begins to run’ (9b8=10a4); auntsante-ne ścīre makästsi ‘they began to make him run hard’ (88a2); tañ [mai]yyane ñiś sanaṃ au[n]u takāwa ‘in thy strength I have wounded [my] enemies’ (22a5/6); ponäṣṣar (K-T). +∎TchA on- ‘id.’ (preterite participle āwu) and B aun- reflect a PTch *āu-(n)- where the -n- presumably is the relic of an old present stem-formative *-nu- extended (nearly) throughout the paradigm. Further connections are obscure. There may be a connection with the otherwise obscure Greek aáō ‘hurt, damage (of the mind).’ The latter appears to reflect a pre-Greek *awasō which could be from PIE *h_aew-h_a-s-. If so, the Tocharian might reflect *h_aew(h_a)-. The original meaning would have been ‘strike,’ hence, in the middle, ‘begin’ (cf. English ‘strike out on [a new career, etc.]’). VW (329) associates the Tocharian word with Greek outáō ‘wound’ instead. This word might also belong here if it reflects *h_aou-teh_a-ye/o-. (Frisk, 1970:450, at least allows the possibility of associating outáō and aáō.) Much more distant, if it belongs here at all, is VW's further connection with Gothic wunds ‘wound’ (which might reflect PIE *h_aw-en-). +See also auñento. +

+ + +
+

+aupacayik +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘based on accumulation’
+(41b3). +∎From BHS aupacayika. +

+ + +
+

+aumiye* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± fever’
+[-, -, aumiye//] +tesa śaiṣṣe wäksenträ ālyauwcemeṃ ce preke aumiyene pälskoṣṣe [mā] kälpasträ emälyai ‘thus people are unquiet with one another [at] this time; a spiritual fever does not achieve heat’ (255b4). +∎A derivative in -iye from aume ‘misery,’ q.v. As if from a PIE *h_aeumih_xo- or *h_xoumih_xo-. +

+ + +
+

+aume* +(n.) +‘± misery’
+[-, -, aume//] +/// ̇m ̇ sportīträ sauśke [sic] aumene e/// ‘[his] son dwelt in misery’ (84b6). +∎TchB aume is the exact cognate of the otherwise isolated Old Norse aumr ‘poor, miserable.’ The two reflect a PIE *h_aeumo- or *h_xoumo-. Within Tocharian this etymon is to be seen also in TchA omäskeṃ ‘evil’ and B aumiye ‘fever,’ q.v. (Krause, Göttingische Gelehrte Anzeigen 1958:54 [apud VW], VW:154). +

+ + +
+

+aurtstse a ~ wartstse +(adj.) +‘broad, wide’ [aurtsesa ‘fully’]
+[m: aurtstse, -, aurcce/aurtstsi, -, -/aurcci, -, -] [f: aurtstsa, -, aurtsai//] +ṣemeṃts aurtse lkātsy āñme ‘to some [there was] the wish to see widely’ (9b6=10a2), tparyane tanki wartsane āṃtsne ‘high, very broad shoulders’ (73a5/6), ts[e]n-uppālṣi piltāṣ ra eśne aurtsi ‘wide eyes like two petals of blue lotus’ (575a2/3). + -- aurtstsesa (adv.) ‘fully’: [ākṣa wertsya]ntse pelaikne śtwār= emprenm=aurtsesa ‘he announced fully to the assembly the law and the four truths’ (1a4); +
+aurtsäññe ‘± breadth’: snay au[rtsñe] (74a5), k_use wña[re onolmi] e_urtsñesa täñ krentewna ‘whatever beings spoke of thy virtues fully’ (248a1/2). +∎TchA wärts ‘id.’ and B wartse reflect PTch *wärtse. The more common aurtse in TchB is a compound of the intensive prefix e(n)- + this *wärtse. The PIE antecedents of of this *wärtse are not altogether clear. VW (1961b:378-80, 1976:562-563) takes this word to be the exact equivalent of Sanskrit vṛddhá- ‘enlarged, augmented, big,’ the past participle of vṛdh- which verb, however, is only certainly known in Indo-Iranian [: Sanskrit várdhati ‘enlarges, increases, strengthens,’ Avestan varədaiti ‘makes larger,’ and possibly in Albanian rrit ‘grow, increase, raise’ (tr.), OCS roditi ‘parere’ (P:1167; MA:249)]. +
+The older connection (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:19) with Sanskrit váras- (nt.) ‘width, breadth, expanse, space,’ urú- ‘broad, wide’ also deserves attention, despite VW's rejection [: also Gathic vouru ‘broad, wide,’ Young Avestan uru- ‘id.,’ Greek eurús ‘broad,’ eũros (nt.) ‘breadth’ (by metathesis from *werú- and wéros- respectively) (P:1165; MA:83)]. Possibly we have an adjective *urésto-, derived with regular ablaut processes from the neuter abstract *wéros-. This putative *urésto- would then have subsequently been transferred to the yo-stem adjectives. Hilmarsson (1991:169) starts from a PTch *wärä directly from PIE *urh_xu- (though I would have supposed that such a form would have given PTch *orä instead) + the ubiquitous adjective forming suffix -tstse. +

+ + +
+

+aul- +(vt.) +‘± throw away, throw forward, thrust forward’
+PP /aulo-/ +krent wāṣmoṣṣe wassisā menkīce snai yase kwīpets parwāne auloṣsā ‘lacking the clothing of good friendship with the outthrust brows of shamelessness’ (282a5). + -- aulñe ‘± throwing away, forward’: [alyekepi] cmeltse aulñe = BHS anyabhavākṣepa (177a6). +∎The Tocharian verbal prefix ā- + PIE *wel- ‘turn, twist’ [: Sanskrit válati ~ válate ‘turns oneself,’ vṛṇóti ‘covers,’ Armenian gelum ‘turn,’ Greek eiléō (< *wel-n-ew-e/o-) ‘turn, wind,’ eilúō ‘wind around, cover up,’ Albanian vjel (< *welwō) ‘throw up,’ Latin volō (= Albanian) ‘roll, turn,’ Old Irish fillid ‘bends,’ Gothic walwjan ‘roll,’ Lithuanian veliù ‘full, mill (cloth),’ etc. (P:1140-1143; MA:607)] (VW:153, though details differ). For the semantic development of *‘twist’ > ‘throw’ one should compare the history of English throw (cf. its German cognate drehen). +See also wäl-¹. +

+ + +
+

+aulāre* +(n.) +‘companion’
+[//-, -, aulāreṃ] +[waike] saimä yāmormeṃ ... wäṣṣe weskeṃ aulāreṃ ‘having made a refuge in a lie, they speak poison to the companions’ (255b7), kete no āñme wī aulareṃ eweta tarkatsi ‘to whomever [is] the desire to set fighting two companions’ (M-3a7). +∎TchA olar ‘id.’ (pl. olariñ) and B aulāre relect PTch *āulāre which, since Schneider, 1940:190, has been connected with Greek aulē ‘courtyard, steading for cattle’ (see also VW:333-334). The simplest hypothesis is that both pre-Greek and pre-Tocharian had a *h₂eu-leh_a- ‘± place for spending the night’ to which Tocharian added *-ro-, giving an adjective *‘± pertaining to staying the night,’ whence ‘companion.’ This *h₂euleh_a- is a derivative of *h₂eu- ‘spend the night’ [: Armenian aganim ‘spend the night’ and Greek iaúō ‘sleep’ (< *h₂ih₂euse/o-)] which we see more commonly in an enlarged form *h₂w-es- as in B ²wäs- ‘dwell.’ Completely different is Hilmarsson's hypothesis (1991:124) that we have a prefixed derivative of lāre ‘dear’ (< *wlāre < *wlh_x-ró-) thus *e(n)- + *wlāre ‘favored one’ > ‘companion.’ +See also wäs-² and aulārñeṣṣe*. +

+ + +
+

+aulārñeṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘± prtng to companionability’ (?)
+[m: -, -, aulārñeṣṣe//] +aulārñeṣṣe yakne /// (623a-2). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, then we have an adjectival derivative in -ṣṣe from an abstract *aularñe derived from aulāre*. +

+ + +
+

+auloñ* +(n.pl.) +‘± blood vessels’
+[//-, -, auloṃ] +[piś-känte] ṣpä yältse[nma au]loṃ yäsar pāssā[r]e-[c] ‘they stripped him of blood and five hundred thousand vessels’ (252b5), olyapotse māka śeśu ... auloṃ prutkäṣṣäṃ ‘having eaten very much, [it] clogs up the vessels [of the body]’ (ST-a1). +∎TchB auloñ would appear to reflect a putative PIE *h₂euluh₁en-, related to the *h₂eulo- seen in Greek aulós (m.) ‘hollow tube, pipe, groove; flute,’ énaulos (m.) ‘riverbed,’ aulōn (m./f.) ‘defile, glen; channel, trench; strait; pipe, conduit,’ Latin alvus (f.) ‘belly, womb, stomach; hold of a ship; beehive’ (< *aulos by metathesis), alveus (m.) ‘hallow, cavity; trough; hold of a ship; beehive; bed of a river,’ Lithuanian aulýs ‘beehive,’ aũlas (m.) ‘leg of a boot,’ Old Prussian aulinis ‘id.,’ aulis ‘shinbone,’ and some less certain cognates in Germanic and Armenian (P:88-89; MA:96)] (VW:153). Showing the same sequence of resonants as Latin alvus is Hittite halluwa- ‘hollow, pit’ (Puhvel, 1991:49). +See also possibly olyi. +

+ + +
+

+aultsorsa +(adv.) +‘in short’
+aultsorsa ka cämpim eṅtsi alokä[lymi] /// ‘may I also be able to grasp in short ...’ (7a6), tu ñiś tane cek-wärñai kca aultsorsa ka ṣärpau-me ‘I will explain it to you here and elsewhere in short’ (33b6). +∎Like its TchA equivalent waltsurā ~ woltsurā, aultsorsa is the perlative of the verbal noun built on the stem of the past participle of wälts- ‘put together, press together,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+auśiye +(adj.) +‘aged, matured’ (?)
+[m: auśiye, -, auśiye//] +se ṣalype [au]wśiye motaṣṣe kaṣāysa kālkä päkṣalle (497b2), auśiye casi (499b2). +∎The meaning is suggested by its possible relationship with the verb auk- ‘grow, increase.’ Auśiye mot would then be ‘aged alcohol/wine.’ +See also auk-. +

+ + +
+

+auṣämiye +(adj.) +‘upper’
+[m: auṣämiye, -, -//] +/// auṣämiye ñormiye wassi /// ‘upper and lower clothing’ (332.1a). +∎An adjective derived from auṣmeṃ (s.v. oṃṣmeṃ). +

+ + +
+

+auṣu +See wäs-¹. +

+ + +
+

+auso* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± cry’ (?)
+[-, -, ausa//] +nano camel spār[tä]ssi enkalñeṣṣe [au]sane karsoym nāki ‘may I know reproach in the auso of passion so as to turn again birth!’ (S-4a2). +∎If correctly identified as to form and meaning, a derivative of ausw-‘cry out,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ausu +See wäs-². +

+ + +
+

+auspa +(adv.) +‘truly, certainly’
+krentaunane cwi larauñe mā ṣañ śaulne waipeccene se śrāddhe auspa ‘for him [there is] love for virtues and not for his own life or possessions; truly he [is] a believer!’ (23a6), aus[pa] te wes[k]au /// ‘truly I tell it’ (128a6), [pi]ś [āntseṃ]tsä ṣañäññe sasāräntse yolaiññe lkoyeṃ auspa ‘may they see better the nature of the five elements and of evil!’ (S-6b2). +∎Obviously this word is related in some fashion to TchA wäṣpā ‘id.’ but beyond the fact that the B form, unlike its A equivalent has the prefix *e(n)- the details are obscure and any extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are unknown (see Hilmarsson, 1991:170). Not with VW (565) is there any relationship with oṃṣmeṃ ~ auṣmeṃ ‘from above.’ +

+ + +
+

+ausw- +(vi.) +‘± cry out’
+Ps. V /auswā-/ [A -, -, auswaṃ//] +kārene klāyaṃ kwri auswann ot sa ‘if she falls in the pit, then she will cry out’ (H-149.15b3 [Krause, 1952:71]). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also perhaps auso. -k, see k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+ka +(emphasizing particle) +‘just; scarcely; already; only; [with adverbs of motion] very.’
+srukenträ tetemoṣ k=ā[lyaik] ‘others die, scarcely born’ (1a7=2a1), kauc ka kaum [ṣai] pärkawo ‘the sun had already risen high’ (5b3/4), ṣärpsentär-ne ālyauce ka nraiṣṣe wnolme tallāntä ‘they know already one another [as] hellish, suffering beings [Tch sg.]’ (17b1), [osta-]ṣmeñcantse śana ṣai tswaiññe ka sruk[au]sa ‘there was the wife of a householder [who had] just died’ (25b6), tswaiñ[e] ka yku ‘having just gone’ (44b6), katkauñaisa ka kektseñi porośyeṃ ‘only by joy do bodies rejoice’ (404a4), kauc ka ṣ āṃtsne musnānträ ‘they raise [their] shoulders high indeed’ (H-149.14a5 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:7]), tāy no ṣeme ka wasa ‘he gave her, however, only one’ (H-149-ADD.7b7 [Thomas, 1957:126]), teksa-ne ka no mrauskāte ‘but no sooner did it touch him [than] he became weary of the world’ (K-11b3), awiśäṣṣai kentsa ka ṣp śāśwat oko warpoymar ceṃts pakāna ‘even on the avīci-ground may I enjoy permanently the result for their sake’ (TEB-64-04). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps we have the reinforcing enclitic kä, q.v., plus the same -ā seen in indefinites ksa and kca, qq.v. +See also taka. +

+ + +
+

+kakoṭak +(n.) +‘Aegle marmelos Corr.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kakoṭak, -, -//] +(W-34a6). +∎From BHS karkoṭaka-. +

+ + +
+

+kakse +(n.) +only attested in the compound käkse-wreme ‘?’
+mäkte ñake käkse-wreme emalyaṣṣe kektseṃne stmauṣ [sic] avasth yainmu sak tanmaṣṣeñca [sic] mäsketrä suwak käkse-wreme krostañaṣṣe [sic] avasth yainmu lakle tanmaṣṣeñca mäsketrä ‘As now the kakse-object, having achieved the state of heat arising from the body, becomes the producer of good fortune, just so the kakse-object, having achieved the state of cold, becomes the producer of suffering’ (197b4/5). +‣Stripped of philosophical trimmings, this sentence might be, ‘As now the kakse, becoming warm, produces good fortune, so the kakse, becoming cold, produces suffering.’ Perhaps kakse is a body-part whose warmth or coldness has an important effect on the warmth or coldness of the body as a whole, e.g. ‘belly’ or ‘loins’ or the like (cf. the ‘warm/cold feeling in the pit of one's stomach’ in English). +∎If the meaning is correct, two possible extra-Tocharian cognates suggest themselves, Sanskrit kukṣí- ‘belly’ (RV ‘cheek’ and ‘buttock’) and kákṣa- ‘armpit’ (RV ‘groin’ --in later Indic also ‘side, hip where babies are carried, etc.’) [: Latin coxa ‘hip,’ Old Irish coss (f.) ‘foot + leg,’ OHG hahsa ‘back of knee,’ New Persian kaš ‘armpit’ (cf. kaš-i rān ‘groin’ [lit. ‘armpit of thigh’]), Khotanese käṣa- ‘loins’ (cf. P:611; MA:323)]. Both connections are phonologically difficult; from a putative PIE *kuḱsí- we would expect TchB *kwaks while *koḱso- ‘± inner part; hollow of (major) joint’ (< *koḱes- ‘inner part, nook’ seen in the Sanskrit hapax kaśas- ‘inner part,’ Khotanese kasā- ‘id.,’ and Ossetic (Digoron) k’äsä ‘inner room, nook, corner’) should have given TchB *kekse. Perhaps kakse reflects a derived PIE *k_eḱs-ó- (cf. Adams, 1985b). Otherwise, H:60. +

+ + +
+

+kakwār* +(n.) +a kind of food
+[-, -, kakwār//] +kantine śwālene śro-kant[i]ś yikṣye śwāra cakanma ṣkas tom ... kakwārne tarya tom (433a16-18). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kankau +‘?’
+ñakesa warñai tsälpelyñeṣai kankau pai/// (169a2), in a list of medical ingredients (P-1b6). +

+ + +
+

+Kank* +(n.) +‘Ganges’
+[-, -, Kank//] +Kankcene [lege: Kank-c[k]ene] waräñcampa eneśle ‘like the sand in the Ganges river’ (552b1). +See also Gānk. +

+ + +
+

+kace* +(n.) +‘± direction’ (?)
+[//-, -, kaceṃ] +śtwāra kacenmeṃ lyaka tsälypelyen mäkte cey mā /// ‘he saw the redeemed ones from [all] four directions; as they .... not ...’ (365a7). +∎Meaning dubious; etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kaccalya* +(n.) +‘± joy’
+[-, -, kaccalyai//] +(520a3). +∎A nomen actionis derived from kātk-, q.v. +See also katkauña. +

+ + +
+

+kaccāp +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘turtle, tortoise’
+[kaccāp, -, -//-, -, kaccāpäṃ] +wlawātai anaiśai kaccāp ram no ṣañ lyñā/// ‘thou hast behaved carefully like a tortoise in his own shell’ (243b4), snai prenke takoy sa kenä ... wars=ite eśnesa menkitse tākoy kacāp ompä pärkre-śāyeñca ‘the earth must have been without island and full of water; the tortoise there must have lacked eyes [but been] long-living’ (407a5/6). +∎From BHS kacchapa- +

+ + +
+

+kañiye +See keñiye. +

+ + +
+

+kañcāṃ-ysāṣṣe +(adj.) +‘golden’
+[m: kañcāṃ-ysāṣṣe, -, kañcāṃ-ysāṣṣeṃ//] [f: kañcāṃ-ysāṣṣa, -, kañcāṃ-ysāṣṣai//] +kañcān-isāṣṣai tapākine ram[t] ‘as if in a golden mirror’ (73b6). +∎From BHS kāñcan- ‘golden’ + TchB ysāṣṣe ‘golden,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kañcuki +(n.) +‘chamberlain’
+[kañcuki, -, -//] +läc kañcuki [] täne lāntsa aiśaisa näske[trä] [lege: mäsketrä] /// (PK-12J-b3 [Thomas, 1979:9]). +∎From BHS kañcukin-. +

+ + +
+

+kaṭapūtane* +(n.) +a kind of demon
+[//-, -, kaṭapūtaneṃ] +(301a3). +∎From BHS kaṭapūtana-. +

+ + +
+

+kaṭukarohiṇi +(n.) +‘Helleborus niger Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kaṭukarohiṇi, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS kaṭkarohiṇī-. +

+ + +
+

+kaṭpaśabaralodär +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kaṭpaśabaralodär, -, -//] +(P-2a4). +

+ + +
+

+kaṇḍakāri +(n.) +‘Solanum xanthocarpum Schrad. & Wendl.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kaṇḍakāri, -, -//] +(P-1a4, W-17b4). +∎From BHS kaṇṭakārī-. +See also kaṇḍāri. +

+ + +
+

+kaṇḍāri +(n.) +‘Solanum xanthocarpum Schrad. & Wendl.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kaṇḍāri, -, -//] +(W-39a4). +∎From BHS kaṇṭārikā-. +See also kaṇḍakāri. +

+ + +
+

+Katakarṇi +(n.) +‘Katakarṇi’ (PN)
+[Katakarṇi, -, -//] +(589a5). +

+ + +
+

+katarosi* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 14 syllables; rhythm 7/7
+[-, -, katarosi//] +(PK-AS16.2a3 [Pinault, 1989]). +

+ + +
+

+katänaṃ +‘?’
+In a list of medical ingredients (W-2b1) +

+ + +
+

+katu +(particle) +‘for, namely’
+maiyyāmeṃ katu tsänku [lege: tsänkau] caukne yaipu | taiknesa rano tane enenmeṃ sā_u tsänkausa śkwarya tākaṃ | [yoko kau]tsiś etsuwai āśäṃ ‘for [if] he [has] risen up with power, [it] having entered into him thuswise thirst leads him, as if a liana [had] grown up within, to kill’ [katu = BHS tu] (11a8), kātu yśelmeṃ postäṃ ynemane = BHS yataḥ kāmān anusaran (U-3b1). +∎A compound of kā + tu, qq.v. (H:114). +

+ + +
+

+katkauña ~ katkauño +(nf.) +‘joy’
+[katkauña ~ katkauño, -, katkauñai//] +śraddhe[näts n]auske kälāṣn arañcne aśrāddhetsä katkauñ=aiṣṣäṃ ‘he brings depression to the heart[s] of believers and gives joy to the unbelievers’ (17b2/3), katkauñaisa arañce po nke plyewäṃ-ñ ‘my whole heart soars then with joy’ (PK-17.3a5 [Couvreur, 1952c:85]). + -- katkauñaṣṣe ‘prtng to joy, joyous’ (K-0b6). +∎A nomen actionis from kātk-, q.v. +See also kaccalya. +

+ + +
+

+katkre +See kätkare. +

+ + +
+

+kattāke +(n.) +‘householder’
+[kattāke, -, -//kattāki, kattākeṃts, kattākeṃ] +mañiññe ramt kattākets yāmṣäṃ ‘he does service, as it were, for the householders’ (31b4), pakaccāṃne kattākeṃ epinkte lämās ‘in the rainy season, stay [lit. sit] among the house-holders!’ (331a5). +‣Similar, perhaps identical, in meaning with osta-ṣmeñca, q.v. + -- kattākaññe* ‘prtng to a house-holder’ (PK-AS16.3b3 [Pinault, 1989]); +
+kattākaññeṣṣe* ‘id.’ (67a3). +∎TchA kātäk and B kattāke are both borrowed, perhaps directly from early Khotanese (cf. ggāṭhaa- < *ggāṭhaka-) or perhaps from the Prakrit source from which the Khotanese is derived. Ultimately from Sanskrit gṛhastha- (Bailey, 1946:791-2, VW:625). +

+ + +
+

+kanakapuṣpä +(n.) +‘flower of Cassia esculenta’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kanakapuṣpä, -, -//] +(W-25a5). +∎From BHS kanakapuṣpa-. +

+ + +
+

+Kanake +(n.) +‘Kanaka’ (PN of former Buddha)
+[Kanake, -, -//] +(429a4). +

+ + +
+

+Kanaṣke +(n.) +‘Kanaṣka’ (PN)
+[Kanaṣke, Kanaṣki, -//] +(423a3, 490-aI-4). +

+ + +
+

+kane +See knents. +

+ + +
+

+kanti* +(n.) +‘± bread’
+[-, -, kanti//] +kr[e]nta śwatsanma kanti tänktsi ārwer yāmormeṃ ‘having made ready good things to eat, even bread’ (375b5), [ka]ntiś yikṣye masa o[k] t[o]m ‘flour for bread went, eight tom]’ (433a2). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (187) suggests a connection with PIE *gned^h- ‘press together’ [: Old English cnedan ‘knead,’ OCS gnesti ‘press,’ Old Prussian gnode ‘trough for kneading bread’ (P:371)] but the semantics are hardly compelling. +

+ + +
+

+kante +(numeral) +‘hundred’
+[kante, -, kante//-, -, käntenma] +kameṃ śr[a]ddh[e]ño Śrāvasti-riṣṣi upāsaki käntenmasa ‘the believing lay-brothers, citizens of Ś., came by the hundreds’ (15a3= 17a3), kaṃnte kältsau ṣalype ‘an oil pressed/sieved one hundred [times]’ (P-1a2), kante kauntsa ‘for a hundred days’ (W-42a6). +‣The numbers from ‘101’ to ‘199’ are phrases as in English, e.g. kant=īkäṃ-okt ‘128.’ Multiples of ‘hundred’ are compounds of the type ṣkas-känte ‘six hundred.’ Such numbers may be inflected at least in the ablative and perlative, e.g. tärya-käntemeṃ or piś-känt(e)sa (Winter, 1991:123). +∎TchA känt and B kante reflect PTch *känte from PIE *ḱṃtóm ‘100’ (from *dḱṃtóm and related to *déḱṃ ‘ten’ --see śak) [: Sanskrit śatám, Avestan satəm, Greek hekatón, Latin centum, Old Irish cét, Welsh cant, Gothic hund, Lithuanian šim̃tas, etc., all ‘hundred’ (P:192), Lycian sñta ‘hundred’ (Melchert, 1987: 202-203; MA:405)] (Smith, 1910:11, VW:204). +See also śak, ikäṃ, and taryāka. +

+ + +
+

+kantwo +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘tongue; language’
+lamästär-ne auṃtsate-ne rupaśke kantwas[a] skāwa[tsi] ‘he sets him on [his] knee and began to kiss [his] face with [his] tongue’ (83a3), alyek-ypoye kaṃtwa weṃne ‘[if] he speaks a foreign tongue’ (325b2). + -- käntwāṣṣe ‘prtng to the tongue’ (241b6). +∎TchA käntu and B kantwo reflect PTch *käntwo which, by metathesis, presupposes an earlier *tänkwo (as if) from PIE *dṇǵ^hweh_a-n-. This form matches exactly that found in Germanic (e.g. in Gothic tuggo) and, minus the n-stem extension, that of Old Latin dingua (Classical Latin lingua)--so Benveniste (1936:235, fn. 1, also VW:204). More distantly we have Old Irish teng, Sanskrit jihvā, Avestan hizvā, Old Persian hizbāna-, Armenian lezu, Old Prussian insuwis, Lithuanian liežùvis, OCS językъ (P:223; MA:594). +

+ + +
+

+Kanthäke +(n.) +‘Kanthaka’ (PN of a horse)
+[Kanthäke, -, -//] +(PK-12H-b2 [Thomas, 1979:47]). +

+ + +
+

+kantsakarṣaṃ* +a meter of 12/12/13/13 syllables (rhythm a and b: 5/7, c and d: 5/8)
+[-, -, kantsakarṣaṃ//] +(298a1). +

+ + +
+

+kaparcitay +(n.) +PN?
+//[Yu]rpaṣṣe kapar citayä śamaśkeṃtse tsukäle/// ([Lévi, 1913:320]). +

+ + +
+

+kapār +See kāpar. +

+ + +
+

+Kapilavarṇe +(n.) +‘Kapilavarṇa’ (PN of a brahman)
+[Kapilavarṇe, -, -//] +(81a1). +

+ + +
+

+Kapilavāstu* +(n.) +‘Kapilavāstu’ (PN of a city)
+[-, -, Kapilavāstu//] +(H-149.X.4b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- kapilavāstuṣṣe ‘prtng to K.’ (628b4). +

+ + +
+

+kapille* +(n.) +‘± fever, illness’
+[-, kapillentse, kappille//] +ñake no śtarce kaunaṣṣepi kapilletse [lege: kappileṃtse] sātke weñau ‘now I will speak of the remedy for the four-day fever/ sickness’ (P-1b1/2), ñake trice kaunaṣṣe kapilleṃtse weñau ‘now I will speak of the three-day fever/illness’ (P-1b4/5). + -- kapilletstse* ‘having a fever/illness’ (P-4b5). +∎In form a nominalized verbal adjective from an unattested, Class IV subjunctive stem, *kāpi-, representing a PIE *kap-ye/o- [: Greek káptō ‘gulp down,’ Latin capiō ‘I take,’ Albanian kap ‘take, grasp,’ or Gothic hafjan ‘lift,’ etc. (P:527-528)]; alternatively its synonym *g^hab^h- as in Latin habēre ‘have’ (Hamp, p.c.)], thus ‘a taking’ or ‘a seizing.’ A similar semantic development is to be seen in German benommen or English numb, originally past participles of Proto-Germanic *(bi-)niman ‘take.’ Less likely to my mind is Isebaert's suggestion (1981[83]):261) that we have here a reflection of a virtual PIE *kwōp-e-lyo- or *kwəp-e-lyo- ‘± vapor, heat’ from *kwēp- ‘boil, smoke, breathe’ (cf. kāp-). +See also perhaps kāpar. +

+ + +
+

+kapci +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘thumbprint [as mark of authentication]’
+[kapci, -, -//] +yirpṣuki Putteyānentse kapci ‘the thumbprint of the supervisor P.’ (P-460a2), [V]aitike lyāka se kapci ‘V. has seen [it]; this [his] thumbprint’ (460a3). +‣The equivalent of Khotanese haṃguṣta- ‘finger (seal)’ or Chinese (pinyin) huàzhǐ ‘id.’ For a discussion of the realia, see the article by Kumamoto in Emmerick and Skjærvø (1987:151-154). +∎Certainly a borrowing from the Chinese, but the details are obscure. The -ci is obviously the equivalent of Chinese zhǐ ‘finger’ (Middle Chinese tçi’), but the origin of kap- is obscure. It is certainly not the equivalent of huà. +

+ + +
+

+kappi* +(nnt.) +‘purity; something pure’
+[-, -, kappi//-, -, kappinta] +kappi śeśuwer ‘eating [something] pure’ (431b1). +∎From Pali kappiya-. +See also akappi-. +

+ + +
+

+kapyāre* ~ kalpyāre* +(n.) +‘worker, laborer’
+[-, -, kapyāre//kapyāri, kapyāreṃts, -] +ṣuk meñantse-ne kapyāres klese masa tarya tom ‘on the seventh of the month he brought three tom of klese for the workers’ (434a5), [ka]lpyāre keś pyākäle śīlne (Paris Sanskrit 71.080 [Couvreur, 1970:182]), parra yaṃ caumpa kapyāri wi ‘he goes through; with him two workers’ (LP-10a4). +∎From BHS kalpikāra(ka)- and/or Pali kappiyakāraka- or some other Prakrit relative (Couvreur, 1970:182). See following entry. +

+ + +
+

+kapyāriśke* +(n.) +‘± little worker’
+[-, -, kapyāriśkaṃ//] +(578a1). +∎A diminutive of kapyāre* ~ kalpyāre*. +

+ + +
+

+kamartāññe* +(n.) +‘rulership, sovereignty’
+[-, -, kamarttāññe//] +yamast [t]uwe mā lantuññe kamārtaññe eṃṣke[ts]e ‘thou hast not done kingship or even rulership’ (128b6). + -- kamarttāññeṣṣe ‘prtng to rulership’ (K-9b2). +See discussion kamartīke. +

+ + +
+

+kamartīke +(n.) +‘ruler’
+[kamartīke, -, - (voc. kamartika)//kamartiki, -, -] +k_use kamartiki säsweñ /// ‘whoever [are] lords and rulers’ (65a2). +∎TchA kākmärtik and B kamartike reflect PTch *kākmārtike, a nomen agentis in -ike derived from *kākmārtā- (A kākmärt, in B enlarged with -ññe as kamartāññe, q.v.) ‘rulership, sovereignty.’ Extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. VW (1967:181-2, 1976:192-193) suggests a putative PIE *k^wōḱmōr (cf. Sanskrit kāśate ‘appears, shines’ and, more particularly, Greek tekmōr ‘sign’ (MA:25). However the *-tā- is not well explained under this hypothesis and the meaning is not particularly apposite. +

+ + +
+

+kamāl +(n.) +‘jaundice’
+[kamāl, -, -//] +kamāl = BHS kāmala- (ST-b5). +∎From BHS kāmala-. +

+ + +
+

+kampāl* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘mantle, cloak’
+[-, -, kampāl//] +Śrāvastine Upanandeś ājīvike śem rätreṃ kampāl ausu [] Up[a]nande ce_u kampāl yaṣṣāte-nemeṃ mā wsā-ne ‘in Ś. a religious mendicant came to U. wearing a red mantle; U. begged this mantle from him [but] he didn't give [it] to him’ (PK-NS-18A-b1/2 [Thomas, 1978:238-239]). +∎From BHS kambala-. +See kampās*. +

+ + +
+

+kampās* +(n.) +‘cotton’
+[-, -, kampās//] +rätreṃ kampās ausū ṣai []Upanande cewmeṃ kampās yamṣāte ‘he was dressed [in] red cotton; U. asked the cotton from him’ (337a4). + -- kampāsäṣṣe ‘prtng to cotton’: kampāsäṣṣe śwelesa śanmäṣäṃlle [sic] ‘[it is] to be bound with a cotton bandage’ (P-2a6). +∎From BHS karpasa-, crossed with kambala-. +See see kampāl*. +

+ + +
+

+kayast +(n.) +a species of medical plant
+[kayast, -, -//] +(P-1b2). +∎From BHS kāyasthā-. +

+ + +
+

+karañcapijä +(n.) +‘seed of Pongamia pinnata (Linn.) Merr.’ = ‘P. glabra Vent.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[karañcapijä, -, -//] +(P-2b5). +∎From BHS karañjabīja-. +

+ + +
+

+karavīräṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to oleander’ (Nerium indica Mill.)
+[f: karavīräṣṣa, -, -//] +(497b7). +∎A derived adjective from an unattested *karavīr ‘oleander’ from BHS karavīra-. +

+ + +
+

+karāk* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘branch’
+[-, -, karāk//karākna, -, -] +wrocc=āntseṃts karākna [lege: karākne?] (3a8), laitki atsi karakna [k_us]e [nesäṃ] tne späntoṣä ‘vines, limbs, branches which are trusted here’ (554a4). +∎TchA karke and B karāk reflect PTch *kérākāin- and kérāk- respectively. (The PTch *e does not undergo ā-umlaut in TchA if stressed but does in B. The loss of the medial vowel in an open syllable is perfectly regular in TchA.) Both the phonological shape and the meaning suggest a possible connection of this word with ³kärk- ‘sprout.’ The semantic relationship is comparable in many ways to German zweig ‘branch’ < OHG zwīc ‘twig, sprout, cutting.’ If so, PTch *kérāk might reflect a putative PIE root noun *Korh_xK-s if, as is certainly possible, ³kärk- reflects *Kṛh_xk-. In addition we might note Lithuanian kárka ‘upper arm,’ Bulgarian krak, krak, Serbo-Croatian krâk ‘leg, femur’ (Balto-Slavic < *korh_xko/eh_a-), Rumanian cra ‘leg,’ borrowed from Slavic, and its derivative cracă ‘branch,’ and possibly Albanian krah(ë) (m.) ‘arm, shoulder’ (if < *krh_xk-sḱ-eh_a- or *korh_xk-sḱ-eh_a- with metathesis? [Hamp (p.c.) takes krah and related krëhë to be from *krṇks- and *krenks- respectively and related to Rumanian (via some substratum) creanga- (pl. crengi) ‘branch’]). It would be reasonable to assume that we have a family of derivatives of *kreh₁- ‘grow’ (P:577; MA:248-249). Somewhat similarly Hilmarsson (H:83) takes the Tocharian word to be a derivative of PIE *g^herh₁- ‘sprout, protrude,’ adducing OHG graz ‘sprout’ and SC grána ‘branch’ as cognates. Not with VW (189) from ²kärk- ‘bind’ (cf. Lithuanian ker̃gti) with the B karāk borrowed in some fashion from A karke (< *korgo-). +See also kärk-³ and karāś*. +

+ + +
+

+karāś* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘forest, woods’
+[-, -, karāś//] +karāś ynūcaṃ [ceṃ wnolmeṃts] ‘for [these] beings going [into] the woods’ (23a7), saṃsāräṣṣe karāśne ce tetrikoṣä ‘those lost in this saṃsāra-forest’ (212a4). +∎TchA kārāś and B karāś would appear to be from a PTch kārāś or *kerāś but further connections are unclear. It is usually taken as a borrowing from Khotanese karāśśa- ‘creeper, vine’ (so VW:625). However, the formation of karāśśa- is isolated within Khotanese (there is an Iranian *kar- which appears in Khotanese kīḍā- ‘creeper, bush’ < *karitaka- but Bailey, 1979, can offer no source for the -āśśa-). Perhaps we have here an old collective *Korh_xkyom or the like, a derivative of the *Korh_xks that gives karāk ‘branch,’ q.v. As ‘b(r)ushy place,’ ‘place full of branches, sprouts’ it would be a good description of the riparian thickets of the Tarim Basin to which karāś might natively have been applied. If so, perhaps Khotanese karāśśa- might be a borrowing from TchB rather than vice versa. Similarly H:84. +

+ + +
+

+kariśke* +(n.) +‘± fruit, harvest’ (?)
+[-, -, kariśke//-, -, kariśkenta] +ñweṃ kariśke[ś] /// (430.4), ṣar pattit [t]rukālle kariśkenta wärpanamane tākaṃ ‘the hand that will give the honor will be enjoying the kariśke’ (558b1). +∎A diminutive of an unattested *kāri, itself a derivative of kār- ‘gather’ (H:86)? +

+ + +
+

+karītsñe* +(n.) +‘± wetness’ (?)
+[-, -, karītsñe//] +pwārmeṃ laṃññi krostaṃñe war karītsñe rīñi[trä] ‘[even if] from the fire cold should emerge, [or even if] water renounced its karitsñe’ (100b2). +‣We have here a short set of contrary-to-fact concessive clauses. So we are looking for something that water could lose that would be analogous to fire's becoming cold, thus the supposition that karītsñe might mean ‘wetness’ or the like. +∎In form an abstract in -äññe from an adjective of possession *karītstse (i.e. *kāri + -tstse). If the meaning given is approximately correct, probably not related to kariśke*. +

+ + +
+

+karuṃ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘pity, compassion’
+[karuṃ, karuṇäntse, karuṃ//] +[wināskau] karuṃ ce_u orocce täñ ‘I honor thy great compassion’ (226b1). + -- karuṇaṣṣe ‘prtng to pity or compassion’ (45a3). +See also karuṇīke and añmālaṣke. +

+ + +
+

+karuṇapralāp* +meter of 4 X 12 syllables (rhythm 5/7)
+[-, -, karuṇapralāp//] +(82a3, 264b3). +

+ + +
+

+karuṇasāri +(n.) +‘Dalbergia sissoo Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[karuṇasāri, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS kālānusāri-. +

+ + +
+

+karuṇīke +(adj.) +‘sympathetic, compassionate’
+[m: karuṇīke, -, -(voc. karuṇīka)//] +[ka]ruṇīke añmālaṣke ‘sympathetic and compassionate’ (574b3). +∎From BHS *karuṇika- (not in Edgerton or M-W). +See also karuṃ. +

+ + +
+

+kare +(n.) +‘worth, rank’
+[kare, -, -//] +kare sporttotär yogācārentse paramañiya[teṃs] täräm wikäṣñeṣṣai lalyīntse (591b2). + -- käre-perne ‘± glorious, worthy’: kr_ui twe wroccu wlo yāmt ñi rekisa käll[ā]t yñ[ak]t[eṃ] śale yśāmna käre-perne lantuññe ‘if thou, great king, dost achieve by my word a glorious kingship among gods and men’ (128b4); +
+käre-pernetste ‘id.’ (73b3=75b4). +∎TchA kär and B kare reflect PTch *käre possibly reflecting either a PIE *g^wṛros (nt.) (by Lindeman's Law which lengthens a prevocalic resonant in what would otherwise be a monosyllable) or *gṛh_x-os (nt.) ‘weight’ [: Greek báros ‘weight’], a nominal derivative of g^wṛr-u- (again with Lindeman's Law) or *g^wṛh_x-u- ‘heavy’ [: Greek barús, Sanskrit gurú-, Latin gravis, Gothic kauru-, etc., all ‘heavy’ (P:476)] (VW, 1972[74]:143-4, 1976:205). Semantically we might compare Hittite nakki- ‘heavy’ but also ‘important, respected.’ It has also been supposed that kare means ‘good,’ and thus kare perne ‘good dignity’ (Winter 1968:61ff., H:84-85). If so, the usual etymology is impossible and this word belongs with kartse ‘good.’ On the whole, however, the usual translation ‘worth, rank’ seems the more likely. +See also käre-perne. +

+ + +
+

+karep +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘damage, harm’
+[karep, -, -//] +totkā-yärm [s]e [tn]e karep wnolmentse ‘of little measure [is] this damage to a being’ (16a7), [mā ost]meṃ lnäskeṃ karep yāma[skenträ] ‘they do not leave the house [i.e. become monks] and do themselves harm’ (230a2). +∎TchB karep and A kāryap ~ kārip- (e.g. allative sg. kāripac) are cognate, but the exact mechanism of that relationship, whether it is by inheritance or borrowing (from A to B, from B to A, or from some third language), is uncertain. Perhaps from PIE *ḱer- ‘decay; harm’ (P:578; MA:312). For another suggestion, see VW (196). +

+ + +
+

+karocuki +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[karocuki, -, -//] +(W-28a4). +

+ + +
+

+karkar* +(n.) +‘cancer’
+[-, karkarntse, karkar//] +(158b2, ST-a5). +∎From BHS karkoṭi-. +

+ + +
+

+karnor +(n.) +‘± striking, killing, hurting’
+karnor = BHS hatam (H-149.315b4 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:491]). +∎Derived from kärn-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+karmapath* +(n.) +‘the way of [good] works’
+[-, -, karmapath//-, -, karmapathänta, -, -] +(24a6). + -- karmapathäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the karmapatha’ (346b1). +∎From BHS karmapatha-. +

+ + +
+

+karmapāy-weṣṣeñca* +(n.) +‘one who speaks the karmavācanā (i.e. the one who states the matter moved by an assembly of monks or nuns)’
+[-, karmapāy-weṣṣeñcantse, -//] +tumeṃ karmapāyä-weṣeñcatse tonak rekauna ... weṣäle ‘then one [is] to say these words of the karmavācanā-speaker’ (KVāc-18a4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:764]). +∎Karmapāy must be karma- as in BHS + vācā as in Pali kamma-vācā but the phonological details are obscure. +See also karmavācaṃke. +

+ + +
+

+karmavācaṃke* +(n.) +‘± one who states the matter that has been moved by the assembly of monks; parliamentarian’ (?)
+[-, karmavācaṃkentse, -//] +(330b3). +∎If from a putative BHS *karma-vācanaka- (not in M-W or Edgerton) from karmavācanā- ‘stating of the matter moved.’ +See also karmapāy-weṣṣeñca. +

+ + +
+

+Karmavārg* +(n.) +‘Karmavarga’ [chapter of the Udānavarga]
+[-, -, Karmavārg//] +(S-3b2). +

+ + +
+

+karyor* +(n.) +‘buying, business negotiation’
+[-, -, karyor//] +ṣaḍvarginta karyor pito misko ailñe yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvargikas were engaged in buying, selling, exchanging, and inheriting’ (337a2), k_use ṣamāne karyor pito yamasträ olank kärnāsträ kwāts plankṣäṃ pärkāwse [sic] pelkiṃ ‘whatever monk negotiates a price, buys cheaply and sells dear for the benefit of profit’ (337b3). + -- käryortstse* ‘± merchant’: yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ käryorcceṃmpa wat [] yaṃ pāyti kättankäṃ ‘[if one] goes with a yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ or a merchant, he commits pāyti’ (330a5). +∎A nomen actionis derived from kärya-, q.v. +See also käryorttau. +

+ + +
+

+karveṃ +‘?’
+///tlava | karveṃ śu/// (584a9). +∎Perhaps a miswriting for karweñ ‘stone’ (acc. sg.), as suggested by Hilmarsson (H:98). +

+ + +
+

+karwa* +(n.pl.) +‘reeds’
+[//-, karwaṃts, -] +skwänma ket rälsko [lege: pälsko] kärwa[t]s [s]kwänma ma skwänma (254a2=255a4). + -- kärwāṣṣe ‘prtng to reeds’: /// [kä]rwāṣṣe ost ram no onkolmo = BHS naḍāgāram iva kuñjaraḥ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1968b:200, fn. 5]). +∎TchB karwa (pl.) is cognate with A kru- (loc. sg. kärwaṃ, derived adj. kärwāṣi). Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985:138) correctly related this word to the otherwise isolated Avestan grava- (m.) ‘Rohrstock, Stock’ (MA:481). Both Avestan grava- and Tocharian karwa can reflect a PIE *g(^w)rewo-. Not with VW (236-237) who suggests PIE kruwā- (*kruh_xeh_a-?) and a relationship with OCS krovъ ‘roof,’ kryjǫ ‘cover, hide,’ Lithuanian krūvà ‘pile, mass,’ kráuju ‘heap up,’ Old Irish cráu ‘byre, hut’ (P:616) assuming that the Tocharian words originally meant ‘that which covers.’ +

+ + +
+

+karse +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± deer, stag’
+[karse, -, -//] +ysāṣṣe ramt karse mlyuweñc ‘thighs like a golden stag’ (75a1). +‣We have here, in a composition praising the Buddha's lakṣanas or marks of bodily perfection, the equivalent of the BHS aiṇeyajangha- ‘having legs like a black antelope’ (translated in the Chinese lists as, ‘thighs like a royal stag’). For the identification of karse, see Adams, 1983a:611, fn. 2 (further, Adams, 1991b:4-5). +∎Karse must reflect a PTch *ḱṛh₂só- ‘horned one,’ an exocentric derivative of *ḱérh₂s ‘horn,’ with appropriate reduction of the (now) unstressed vowel. One should compare Greek kéras ‘horn’ and its derivative keraós ‘horned’ (as if from *ḱerh₂só- with analogical full vowel). However, the more original adjective (*ḱṛh₂só-) appears also in Greek (Hesychius) in two nominalizations (with regular stress retraction): Ionic kárā ‘cattle’ (an old neuter plural) and Cretan (feminine singular) kárā ‘tame goat’ (for the Greek forms, see Nussbaum, 1986:156-157; for wider PIE affiliations P:574-576; MA:260, 272-273). Less likely is Hilmarsson's suggestion (H:92-93) that it is a reflex of PIE *kṛsó- ‘black’ (as in Sanskrit kṛṣná- ‘black’). +

+ + +
+

+kartse ~ krent +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘good, beautiful’; (b) ‘good, welfare’
+(a) Adj. [m: kartse, kreñcepi, kreṃt/kartsi (~ *kreñc), -, (*kartsi) ~ kreñc/kreñc, krentaṃts, krentäṃ] [f: kartsa, -, kartsai//-, -, krenta]; (b) Noun [kartse, -, kartse//] +(a) [Mṛ]gārañ stānkne kreṃnt ‘in the beautiful palace of Mṛgāra’ (3a5), kreñc [= BHS santaḥ] c[ai po] kr[e]ntäṃne [= BHS satsu] śarsäskeṃ-ne eñw[e]tstse (5b1), tesar ṣ nāki krentäṃtsa ‘and they set reproach over the good’ (15a5=17a6), [pe]laikne tänkwsa pw āñmtsa päklyauṣtso pelaikn= ākṣiṃ karttse palkas ‘listen to the law with love and with [thy] whole self; look well at the announcer of the law!’ (19a2), erene kartstsa werene kartstsa śukene kartstsa krenta ṣotrunasa kekenusa ‘good in form, good in smell, good in taste, provided with good signs’ (107a4/5), posa kreś tākacer ‘you will be better than all’ (107b3), mā kartsa = BHS akuśalā (200b3), krento = BHS kalyāṇaṃ (308a3), tekanmane kartse ‘[it is] good for diseases’ (500a4), kartsi eṅwene = BHS satpuruṣau (532b4), krentäṃ akalṣälyeṃ = BHS sacchiṣyāṃ (H-ADD.149.62a2 [Couvreur, 1966:165]), kreṃt pelaikne = BHS saddharmam (H-ADD.149.85a5 [Thomas, 1968a: 201]), [in Manichean script] kryntplskvš/// = krent pälskoṣ ṣañ? (Winter/ Gabain:13); +
+(b) ytāri weṣṣäṃ se kartseś po wnolmets täṅwaññeñca ṣek ‘he [who is] always loving tells the way to good for all beings’ (29a4), ṣañ śl=ālyenkäts kartse[ne] splekkessu ‘zealous for his own welfare and likewise [that] of others’ (30b5), kartse yayātaṣṣa = BHS sudāntena (181b5), wesäñ kärtseśc ‘for our good’ (214a4/5). + -- As the first member of compounds often the equivalent of BHS su-, hita-, or sat-; +
+kärtse-akṣu* ‘well-instructed’: k_use pelaikneṣṣe reki kärts-a[kṣoṣ] = BHS ko dharmapadaṃ sudeśitam (H-149.198b6 [Thomas, 1968a:197]); +
+kärtse-ere ‘of good appearance’: cmelane kärtse-ere mäsketrä kärtse-weśeññai ‘in births he is of good appearance and good voice’ (K-9a2); +
+kärtse-yāmi* ‘benefactor’ (= BHS hitakartu- [251a4]); +
+kärtse-ykne ‘± in good fashion’ (417b1); +
+kärtse-rita ‘seeking good’ (386a3); +
+kärtse-reki ‘having a good word, message’ (386a3); +
+kärtse-wawlāwau ‘well-behaved’ (320b7); +
+kärtse-were ‘having a good smell’ (= BHS sugandhīni [308b6]); +
+kärtse-weśeññai ‘eloquent’ (K-9a2); +
+kärtse-weṣṣeñca* ‘eloquent’ (= BHS hitavaktu- [251a4]), = BHS subhāṣitam [U-20a4]); +
+kärtse-ṣälype ‘having or offering beautiful oblations, devout, pious’ (= BHS suhaviṣ- [550b3]); +
+krent-pelaikne ‘± virtuous’ (= BHS saddharman [U-22a5]); +
+kärtseṣṣe ‘good’: se kärtseṣṣe ak[āl]k ñ[i] ‘this good wish of mine’ (270a2), kärtseṣṣe ñem-kälywe klyauṣāte ‘he heard the good fame’ (AMB-a4); +
+kärtsauñe ‘goodness, virtue; good work, service’: [tu]sa śpālmeṃ plāskaṃ ṣeme-ṣṣeme kärtsauñe ‘[if] he thus considers a single good deed’ (64b8), ce pintwātstsa kärtstsomñenta [sic] po yātoyeṃ-ś ‘by this alms-giving may all thy good deeds be able’ (107b7). +∎TchB kartse and krent-, though synchronically suppletive to one another, must be diachronically related. Krent- is obviously cognate with TchA krant- ~ kränt- which, like krent-, form part of a suppletive paradigm for ‘good’ (the part played in B kartse is played in A by kāsu--see s.v. kāswo) and kräntso ‘beautiful.’ Extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. VW (232, with a review of previous literature) derives both kartse and krent- from PIE *ǵ^her- ‘desire, yearn for’ [: Sanskrit háryati ‘likes, takes delight in, yearns for,’ Greek khaírō ‘enjoy myself,’ Umbrian heriest ‘volet,’ OHG gerōn ‘want, desire, yearn for,’ etc. (P:440-441; MA:158)]. More particularly, VW would equate kartse with Greek khartós ‘causing delight, welcome’ (with the common Tocharian substitution of *-yo- for *-o-) and krent- with the aorist participle khareís (< *kharēnts) ‘rejoicing.’ Neither in form (A krant- ~ kränt- presupposes a PIE *-ont- ~ -ṇt- rather than an impossible *-ēnt- ~ -ṇt-) nor in meaning is the latter equation particularly good. However, a participle of the type *ǵ^hr-ont- ~ ǵ^hrṇt- with a meaning ‘pleasing’ would seem to be acceptable if not actually attested. Hilmarsson suggests (H:97-98) a relationship with Old Irish carae ‘friend,’ taking both from *kṛh₂-ont-. However, the Old Irish is more probably from *kh_a-r- (MA:357), a pre-form which would not work for Tocharian. +
+Another possibility, following a suggestion of Specht's (1944:128, fn. 1), would be to relate kartse to PIE *g^wṛh_a-tó- [: Sanskrit gūrtá- ‘celebrated,’ Lithuanian gĩrtas ‘id.,’ Latin grātus ‘grateful, thankful, appreciative; received with or deserving gratitude, acceptable, welcome; pleasant, attractive, charming’] from PIE *g^wṛh_a- ‘praise, chant in praise’ [: Sanskrit gṛnāti ‘sings, praises,’ Lithuanian giriù ‘praise,’ Old Irish bard ‘bard,’ etc. (P:478; MA:449)]. Krent- would then reflect a particple *g^wrh_a-ont- ~ g^wrh_aṇt- with a similar meaning (Pinault, 1979). Particularly in this connection we should note Lithuanian gẽras ‘good, kind, splendid’ from this root. +See also krentauna. +

+ + +
+

+kalapak* +(n.) +‘a kind or ornament; a sectarian mark on the forehead’ (?)
+[-, -, kalapak//] +(320a4). +∎From BHS kalāpaka-. +

+ + +
+

+kalāk- +(vi.) +‘follow’
+Ps. I /kolok-/ [MP -, -, koloktär// -, -, kolokantär; MPPart. kolokmane]; Pt. Ib /śālākā-/ [-, -, śalāka//]; PP /kākālākā-/ +skwänma śaiṣṣe kolokträ ... ceṃ läklenta ompostäṃ kolokanträ skiyo rā ‘the world follows good fortune; sufferings follow after it like a shadow’ (255a2/3); /// swañcaimtsa śalāk=ike poyśiṃñe laktse [ram no] (408b3); /// [pep]ränkoṣ kakālakaṣ wat (529b2). +∎This word is obviously to be related to TchA kälk- which forms the non-present tenses of i- ‘go’ but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. A kälk- and B kalāk- presuppose a PTch *kälk- ~ *kelāk- from a PIE *K(^w)ḷK- ~ *K(^w)olh_xK- which might be from *k^welh_x-, the set variant of *k^wel- seen in Sanskrit cáritum, cūrtí- from cárati ‘moves, wanders; drives’ (P:639), extended by the same velar that appears in walāk- and parāk-, qq.v. (Smith, 1910:11; Adams, 1988b; H:62-63 [with differing details]). Not with VW (625-626) a borrowing from Uralic. +See also käl-². +

+ + +
+

+kalāskana +(n.) +‘?’
+[//kalāskana, -, -//] +watāmänta kalāska[na] tsankana ‘almonds, kalāskana, and shoots’ (W-31a5). +

+ + +
+

+kaläl* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± womb’
+[-, -, kaläl//] +mātri [kātsane] yaipormeṃ kka kälpormeṃ wi indriñcä kektseñaṣṣe [sic] i[nd]ri śauläṣe indri ṣ[pä] om no ce_u kalälne ykuweṣ kautsiśco speltke yamaṣäṃ ‘having entered in the mother's stomach and achieving the two signs, the body sign and the life sign, he makes zeal to kill the one gone in the womb’ (333a2-4). +∎A derivative of the subjunctive stem käl-¹ ‘bear, endure,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kaliyuk* +(n.) +‘the Kali-age’
+[-, -, kaliyuk//] +(582b2). +∎From BHS kaliyuga-. +

+ + +
+

+kalkaṣṣe +See kālko. +

+ + +
+

+kalpyāre +See kapyāre. +

+ + +
+

+kallau* +(n.) +‘gain, profit’
+[-, källauntse, kallau//] +kete pkante yāmyeṃ kal[l]au[n]e cai cets sañi ‘these [are] their enemies whom they must hinder in achieving [food and drink]’ (31b7/8), kallau = BHS lābha- (542b4), wīśim ñiś kallau ynāmñe ‘may I shun profit and esteem’ (S-4b2). + -- kallauṣṣe ‘prtng to gain’ (33b1) +∎A derivative of the subjunctive stem of kälp-, q.v. (i.e. kälp-nā- + -au). +See also pärkāwse. +

+ + +
+

+Kalyāṇavraddhi +(n.) +‘Kalyāṇavṛddhi’ (PN in graffito)
+[Kalyāṇavraddhi, -, -//] +(G-Su7). +

+ + +
+

+Kalyanamokṣe +(n.) +‘Kalyānamokṣa’ (PN)
+[Kalyanamokṣe, -, -//] +(Otani 19.1.1 [Pinault, 1998:365]). +

+ + +
+

+Kalyānawartane +(n.) +‘Kalyāṇavardhana’ (PN in graffito)
+[Kalyānawartane, -, -//] +(G-Su32). +

+ + +
+

+kawā-ññ- +See kāp-. +

+ + +
+

+kawātstse +See kāwo. +

+ + +
+

+kaśperne +‘?’
+kaśperne mahāgrase[ne] /// (507a2). +

+ + +
+

+kaśmaryaphal +(n.) +‘fruit of Gmelina arborea Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kaśmaryaphal, -, -//] +(P-3b7). +∎From BHS kāśmaryaphala-. +

+ + +
+

+kaṣake +(n.) +‘Kashgarian’
+[kaṣake, -, -//] +twe ñī yaitkorsa maṃt pyām k_uce kaṣake Puttamitre parra yaṃ ‘do thou my command that the Kashgarian P. go through’ (LP1a2-3). +‣Usually taken as a name but it would make Kaṣake Puttamitre the only double name in these records. Probably the equivalent of Turfan Middle Persian k’šy (< Proto-Iranian *kāšaka-) ‘Kashgarian’ (cf. Bailey, 1985:52). +

+ + +
+

+kaṣāntaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to ordure’ (?) or ‘prtng to reprimand’ (?)
+[m: //kaṣāntaṣṣi, -, -] +koyn kakāyaṣ po kaṣāntaṣṣi kāri po ‘all having opened wide [their] mouth[s] [are] holes of ordure (?)’ (G-Su1-b). +∎Pinault (1986: 136) takes this form to be from *kaṣāynta, the plural of kaṣāy ‘ordure, impurity.’ However, kaṣāy seems only attested as ‘decoction’ in Tocharian. Hilmarsson (H:108) suggests a translation ‘prtng to reprimand’ instead. +See kaṣāy and kastuna. +

+ + +
+

+kaṣāy +(nnt.) +‘infusion, decoction; impurity (?)’
+[kaṣāy, -, kaṣāy//kaṣāynta, -, -] +saṃtkinaṃś ka[ṣā]ynta pakseṃ ‘they cook the infusions for the doctors’ (324a5), kaṣāy päkṣalle warsa ‘the infusion [is] to be cooked in water’ (P-1a5). +∎From BHS kaṣāya-. +See also kaṣāntaṣṣe*. +

+ + +
+

+kaṣār* +(n.) +‘saffron-colored monk's garb’
+[-, -, kaṣār//] +wässāte kaṣār-wassi ‘he wore the garb of a monk’ (107b4/5), kaṣār-wässanma kaṣkektseñtsa lyakānte-me ‘they saw just the monk's garments over their bodie[s]’ (108a10). +∎Like TchA kāṣār(i), a borrowing from BHS kāṣāya- or some Prakrit equivalent. +

+ + +
+

+kaṣka +(H:108) +‣misreading for kaṣṣu, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kaṣṭa +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘misfortune, evil’
+[kaṣṭa, -, -//] +kkaṣṭa k_ucalle star-ñ se mā pkwalle lantuṃñe īke pästä/// ‘evil is to be contemned by me ...’ (606a4). +∎From BHS kaṣṭa-. +

+ + +
+

+kaṣṣu +(n.) +‘Costus speciosus (Koen.) Sm.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kaṣṣu, -, -//] +(499a4). +∎From BHS kuṣṭha-. +

+ + +
+

+kastuna +(npl.?) +‘± threat’ (?)
+/// [mapi lāntä]śc[ä] kastuna palskanatä ‘thou dost not contemplate a threat (?) against the king’ KVāc-19b2 (K. T. Schmidt, 1986:86). +∎Hilmarsson suggests (H:105) that this may be related to TchA kās- ‘reprimand, chastise,’ itself related to Sanskrit śās- ‘id.’ (< PIE *ḱeh₁s- [P:533; MA:536]) (VW, 1941:31). +See also kaṣāntaṣṣe, if the latter means ‘prtng to reprimand.’ +

+ + +
+

+kaswātstse +See kāswo. +

+ + +
+

+kā +(interrogative pronoun) +‘why’
+ka [sic] mā weścer krent [reki] ‘why do you not say the good word?’ (20b6), somo-añyai [lege: somo-aiñyai] somo ytārye kā westär ‘why is the single road called the only-traversable?’ (29b1), kā twe ñäś ñke ārtsi päknāstär ‘why dost thou intend to forsake me?’ (45a1), sū kā swāsaṃ ‘why will it rain?’ (140b4), tneka preksau-me kā snai meṃtsi kläṃtsañcer ‘here I ask you: why do you sleep without care?’ (G-Su1-d). +∎TchB kā reflects either a feminine instrumental or ablative *k^weh_a(d) ‘in what [way]’, ‘for what [reason].’ One might particularly compare Greek pê ‘in what way?’ or Latin quā ‘by which way, how?’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:170, VW, 1941:29, 1976:191). +See also kāttsi, katu, k_use, ksa, and kos. +

+ + +
+

+kāk- +See kwā-. +

+ + +
+

+kāko* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘invitation’
+[-, -, kāko//kakonta, -, -] +pintwāt śaitsisa mā kakonta ‘begging [is how] to live, not invitations’ (32b8), śwer meñtsa ka ṣamānentse kāko wärpanalle ste ‘four months only is a monk to enjoy an invitation’ (331a2). + -- kakoṣṣe* ‘prtng to an invitation’ (331b5). +∎An nomen actionis derived from kāk-, which fills out the paradigm of kwā- ‘call (to)’, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kākoṭi +(n.) +‘Gymnena balsanicum’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kākoṭi, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS kākolī-. +

+ + +
+

+kāñ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+epe käñcelleṣṣe kāñ iścemne tse[tseku] ‘or (a) kāñ of lotus filaments burned/baked in clay’ (H-149. 45b1 [H:80]). +

+ + +
+

+kāñci +(n.) +‘sour gruel, rice-vinegar’
+[kāñci, -, -//] +(Y-2b5). +∎From BHS kāñcika-. +

+ + +
+

+kāñm- +(vi.) +‘play’
+Ps. I /kāñm-/ [A -, -, kāñmäṃ//-, -, kāñmeṃ; MPPart. kañmamāne]; Ko. V /kāñmā-/ [Inf. kāñmatsi; Ger. kāñmalle] +[ke]ry[eṃ] kāñmeṃ spänteṃnträ onwaññe śaul ‘they laugh and play and believe: life [is] eternal’ (2b2); /// k[ā]ñmatsi [ṣm]ī[c]e[r] ot ñi kenine ‘you sat on my knee in order to play’ (370b6). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (194) suggests a connection with Sanskrit kāma- ‘desire, love,’ kam- ‘to love, desire,’ Latvian kãmêt ‘to be hungry for,’ derived from a more underlying *keh_a- ‘love’ as seen in Latin cārus (Mayrhofer, 1956:159). If so, kāñm- would be by metathesis from *kāmñ- but the semantic connection seems dubious (VW suggests a development via the ‘lusus venerius’). Cf. MA:357. +See also kāñme. +

+ + +
+

+kāñme +(n.) +‘play’
+[kāñme, -, -//-, -, kāñmeṃ] +(389b3, H-149.40a3). +∎A nomen actionis derived from kāñm-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Kāḍike* +(n.) +‘Kālika’ (PN of a monk)
+[-, Kāḍiki ~ Kāḍikentse, -//] +(44a3). +

+ + +
+

+kātk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘rejoice, be glad’; K ‘make glad, gladden’
+G Ps. II /kātk^'ä/_e-/ [A kātkau, -, kāccäṃ//-, -, kātkeṃ; MPPart. katkemane]; Pt. Ib /kāccā-/ [A //-, -, kaccāre]; PP /kākāccu-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /kātkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kātkästär//; APart. kātkäṣṣeñca; MPPart. kātkäskemane]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [Inf. kātkäs(t)si]; Ipv. IV /päkātkäṣṣā-/ [Pl. pkātkäṣṣat]; PP /kākātkäṣṣu-/ +mā tusa kātkau mā tu pällāmar ‘thus I do not rejoice and I do not praise it’ (596a4), tusa kāccän sū skwassu cmela[n]e ‘thus he rejoices, the one [who is] fortunate in [his] births’ (24a2), kāccän = BHS nandate (U-16a3), kkāccän [sic] = BHS modati (U-16a4), [olyapo]tstse kātkeṃ = BHS abhinindanti (H-149.315b2 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:491]), kātkeṃ plontonträ ‘they are glad and rejoice’ (K-2b6); toy kakkāccuwa bramñikteṃś maitare wināṣṣar-ne ‘they, rejoicing, went to the Lord Brahma and worshiped him’ (107a10), ket no pälsko kakacu ‘to whom, however, [there is] a joyful spirit’ (255b3); k_use ma pälsko katkästrä ‘whoever does not make [his] spirit glad’ (255b2), pälskonta kātkäṣṣeñca weśeñña mäsketär-ne ṣpä ‘and his voice is gladdening the spirits’ (K-9b5); pkātkäṣṣat ceṃts pälskonta wärpaucaṃtso ailñesa ‘through giving make glad the spirits of these sufferers!’ (PK-17.4b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:90]). +∎TchA kātk- and B kātk- reflect PTch *kātk-. The latter is probably with VW (197-198) to be connected with Greek gēthéō (Doric gāthéō) ‘rejoice, be glad.’ The Tocharian form would be (as if) from a PIE *geh_ad^h-sḱe/o- (MA:256). Such an etymology would force us to separate gēthéō from Latin gaudeō ‘id.’ However, this latter connection would presuppose a pre-Greek *geh_awed^he-e/o- and as Frisk points out (1960:304) there is no trace of any contraction in the first syllable of the Greek verb which such a theory should imply. +See also katkauña and kaccalya. +

+ + +
+

+kāttsi +(interrogative pronoun) +‘why’
+kātsi tu = BHS kathan tarhi (547a7), kāttsi no wnolme śate mäsketrä cäñcan-ne ṣpä āyor aitsi ‘why is there a rich being and it does not please him to give a gift?’ (K-6a5). +∎kā ‘why’ reinforced by the particle attsi, qq.v. (VW:191). +

+ + +
+

+kānt- +(vt.) +‘± rub, polish by rubbing; rub away’
+Ps. VI /kāntnā-/ [MPImpf. -, -, kantanoytär//]; Ko. V /kāntā-/ [MPOpt. -, -, kāntoytär//; Inf. kāntatsi] +śaumo ks=allek [k]omt tsonkaik tsankoy ka taursa kektseñ kāntoytär ‘may another person rise daily at dawn and rub [his] body with dust’ (19b6), ciṣṣe saimäś kloyomar nauyto-ñ yāmor kāntoytär-ñ k[ṣā]nt[i] tākoy-ñ ‘I fall to thy refuge; may my deed come to naught, may it be rubbed away; may I have forgiveness!’ (TEB-64-11). + -- kāntalñe* ‘rubbing, friction’: ṣesa kāntal[ñ]emeṃ = BHS saṃgharṣāt (532a2). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (194) rejects a connection with either PIE *g^hen- or *ken- ‘rub, scratch’ suggested by Couvreur (1950:127) as too inconcrete. While both these roots have dental élargissements (*g^hned^h- and *kned^h-) the vowel of the enlarged root follows the *-n- rather than preceding it as demanded by the Tocharian data and in both cases the enlarged forms mean ‘bite.’ If the original meaning of B kānt- was ‘polish by rubbing’ one might connect it with PIE *(s)kand- ‘illuminate, glow’ [: Sanskrit candati ‘illuminates,’ candrá- ‘glowing, brilliant,’ Albanian hënë ‘moon’ (< *skandneh_a-), Latin candeō ‘shine, glow,’ accendō, incendō ‘ignite’ (< *-candō), Greek (Hesychius) kándaros ‘ember,’ Welsh cann ‘white’ (P:526: MA:514)]. In pre-Tocharian we would have *kand(n)ā- ‘± make glow’ (transitive as in Latin). +See also possibly kānts-. +

+ + +
+

+kānts- +(vt.) +‘± sharpen, file’
+Ko. V /kāntsā-/ [Inf. kāntsatsi]; Pt. Ib /kāntsā-/ [A //-, -, kantsāre] +/// kāntsasi yātka pā/// (432b4); kṣuranma kāṃtsāre k_uśāneṃtsa 250 ‘[for] 250 k_uśānes they sharpened the knives’ (490a-III-5). +∎Etymology uncertain. Possibly a denominative verb to kentse ‘rust, oxide of metal’, that is, in PTch terms, *kents-ā-. Alternatively one might see in this verb the reflex of an intensive present, PTch *kānt-s- related to kānt-, q.v. The semantics would be on the order of *‘rub’ > *‘whet’ > ‘sharpen.’ For another suggestion, see VW (194) who connects it with Sanskrit śíśāti ‘whet,’ etc. (also seen as a possibility in MA:510, 641). +See also possibly kentse. +

+ + +
+

+kāp- +(vt.) +‘desire, crave, want’
+Ps. XII /kāpāññ^'ä/_e- ~ kāwāññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP //-, -, kawāññentär]; Ko. V /kāpā- ~ kāwā-/ (see abstract infra); Pt. Ib /kāpā- ~ kāwā-/ [MP -, -, kawāte//]; PP /kākāpā-/ + kest yokaisa memyoṣ wnolmi śwātsi yoktsiś | kawāṃñentär ‘tricked by hunger and thirst the beings desire to eat and drink’ (286b3); su onmiṃ yāmṣate kawāte-ne añ[m]ā[laṣke] ‘he repented and desired his mercy’ (34a2); kakāpau (66a8). +‣One might note that the tendency to turn intervocalic -p- to -w- in this word is resisted in the preterite participle as such a change would have made it homophonous with the preterite particple of kau- ‘kill.’ + -- kāwalyñe ‘desire, craving’: k_use kāwalyñesa warñai śak karmapathantameṃ kaklautko [lege: kaklautkau] ‘whoever [has] turned from the ten karma-paths because of desire, etc.’ (102a3); +
+kāwalyñeṣṣe ‘prtng to desire’ (590b3). +∎TchA kāp-, B kāp-/kāw- reflect PTch *kāp- from PIE *kw(e)p- ‘± experience strong emotion’ [: Sanskrit kúpyati ‘is moved, excited, agitated; boil with rage or emotion; be angry,’ Latin cupiō ‘desire, long for,’ Sabine cuprum ‘good’ < ‘wished for,’ Old Irish ad-cobra ‘wishes’ (< *-kuprāt; as a denominative verb this Old Irish formation is something of a match for Tocharian kāpāññ- [Hamp, p.c.]), OCS kypiti ‘to boil, overrun,’ etc. (P:596-597; cf. MA:529)] (VW:194-195, with differing details). Whether or not this *kw(e)p- is the same as the *kw(e)p- ‘give off smoke, breathe heavily,’ as is usually assumed, is not easy to tell (see the material assembled at P:596-597). In TchB the present is semi-suppletive in that it is a denominative formation based on the noun kāwo ‘desire,’ itself a deverbal derivative from kāp-. PTch *kāp-ā- is surely *kep-ā-, possibly (as if) from a PIE o-grade intensive present (as Latin procāre ‘ask, entreat’). Hilmarsson suggests as an alternative (H:121-123) a derivation from PIE *kap- ‘seize’ as in TchB kapille ‘fever.’ +See also kāwo and possibly kapille or kāpar. +

+ + +
+

+kāpar +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± a bit; bite, morsel’
+[kāpar, -, kāpar//] +/// orottstse kapār y[amaṣle] ‘a big bite [is not] to be made’ (H-149-ADD. 131b5 [Couvreur, 1954b:51]), ṣeme kāparsa ‘mit eins’ (H-149-ADD.63/59a2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps ‘thing taken’ and related to kapille, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kām- +See pär-. +

+ + +
+

+kāmadhātu* +(n.) +‘seat of desire’
+[-, -, kāmadhātu//] +(156a3). + -- kāmadhātuṣṣe* ‘prtng to the seat of desire’ (591a1); +
+kāmadhātu-rūpadhātuṣṣe* ‘prtng to desire and form’ (PK-AS16.3a1 [Pinault, 1989]). +∎From BHS kāmadhātu-. +

+ + +
+

+kāmaguṃ* +(n.) +‘passion, perfect enjoyment’
+[//kāmagu(nä)nta, -, -] +(176a2). +∎From BHS kāmaguṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+Kāmavarg* +(n.) +‘Kāmavarga’ (a chapter in the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Kāmavarg//] +(S-2b5). +

+ + +
+

+kāmāvacaräṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the spheres of desire’
+[m: //kāmāvacaräṣṣi, -, -] +(176a3). +∎An adjective derived from an unattested **kāmāvacar ‘spheres or worlds of desire’ from BHS kāmāvacara-. +

+ + +
+

+Kāmñäkte* +(n.) +‘god of love’
+[-, -, Kāmñäkte (voc. Kāmñäkta)//] +[kä]nmaṣṣäṃ Kāmñäktempa ‘he comes with the god of love’ (609b4). +∎A compound of *kām + ñäkte, calqued on BHS kāmadeva-. +

+ + +
+

+kāy* +(n) +‘± receipt’ (?)
+[-. -, kāy//] +kāyne ṣotri ṣecaki aṣkār läkāskemane ‘the sign of the lion [is] seen on the receipt on the back’ (Otani 19.1.6 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kāy- +(vt.) +‘open wide’
+PP /kākāyā-/ +mātārä srukalyñeṣṣe koyn kakāyau tekiṣṣeṃ kemeṃtsa po treṣṣäṃ śaiṣṣe ‘the monster opening wide [his] mouth of death chews the whole world with [his] teeth of disease’ (282b4), koyn kakāyaṣ po kaṣāntaṣṣi kāri po ‘all having open wide [their] mouth[s], all [are] pits for garbage’ [?] (G-Su1-b). +∎TchB kāy- is from PIE *ǵ^hoh₁(i)- ‘gape, open wide’ [: Greek kháskō ‘yawn, gape (especially of the mouth)’ (< *ǵ^hh₁-sḱe/o-, though one would expect Greek -é- rather than -á-), Latin hiāre ‘to open, stand open, gape,’ hīscō ‘id.’ (< *ǵ^hih₁-sḱe/o- with laryngeal methathesis from *-h₁i-), Lithuanian žióju ‘open,’ OHG gīēn ‘gape,’ TchA śew- ‘yawn’ (< *ǵ^heh₁i-w-), etc. (P:419-422: MA:653)] (VW:199). More particularly the preterite participle kākāyā- reflects a TchB preterite stem *kāyā- from PTch *kāyā- (as if) from *ǵ^hoh₁i- + the ubiquitous Tocharian preterite -ā-. +See also koyn, kāre. +

+ + +
+

+kāyike +(adj.) +‘corporeal’
+(172a2). +∎From BHS kāyika-. +

+ + +
+

+kār- +(vt.) +‘gather’
+Ko. V /kārā-/ [A kārau, -, -//; Inf. kāratsi]; Pt. Ib /kārā-/ [A //-, -, karāre; MP //karāmte, -, karānte] +pelaik[n]e klyauṣtsi āyor ... pelaikneṣṣana naumiyenta kāratsiśco ‘to give the gift of hearing the law and gathering the jewels of the law’ (23a7); tetkorsa [lege: nenkorsa] ka käṣṣinta karāre toṃ ślokanma ‘only by [their] disappearance did the teachers assemble these ślokas’ (11b1); stanāmeṃ okonta wärskānte pyapyaiṃ karānte ‘they smelled the fruits from the trees and gathered flowers’ (576a2). +‣At least in part semantically overlapping with kraup-, q.v. +∎TchA kār- may reflect a PIE o-grade present (see Jasanoff, 1979) *h_agor-, parallel to the *h_agerye/o- seen in Greek ageírō ‘collect, gather, assemble’ from *h_ager- ‘gather’ restricted to Greek and Tocharian (VW, 1949:301, 1976:195, though details differ). In a variation on this etymology, Hamp (p.c.) suggests that Greek ageir- is pre-Hellenic (but Indo-European) *h_aed-ǵ^her- but this *ǵ^her- would still match Tocharian kār-. +See also perhaps kariśke, karītsñe, and koro. +

+ + +
+

+kārik* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘concise statement of doctrine’
+[-, -, kārik//] +(Thomas, 1957:289). +∎From BHS kārikā-. +

+ + +
+

+kāruṃ +See karuṃ. +

+ + +
+

+kāre (also kārre) +(nm.) +‘± pit’
+[kāre, -, kāre//kāri, -, -] +[e]piṅtene kārre ṣai su śarabhe-luwo eṣke pruka Brahmadatte wa[lo klāya] ‘in between was a pit; while the śarabha-animal leaped [it], king B. fell’ (358a3), koyn kakāyaṣ po kaṣāntaṣṣi kāri po ‘all having open wide [their] mouth[s], all [are] pits for garbage’ (G-Su1-b), kārene klāyaṃ kwri auswann ot sa ‘if she falls into the pit, then she will cry out’ (H-149.15b3 [Krause, 1952:71]). +∎Probably the equivalent of TchA kār in kāraṃ lmo ‘having sat in a hole.’ Cognate with the otherwise isolated Greek khôros (also khōrā) ‘free space, area between, land, etc.’ (cf. also khōrís ‘without,’ khōrízō ‘separate.’ Greek khôros and TchB kāre reflect a PIE *ǵ^hoh₁ro- (MA:534) from *ǵ^heh₁(i)- ‘gape, open wide’. Perhaps also related to Greek khēra ‘widow’ (VW:196). +See further kāy-. +

+ + +
+

+kārp- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘descend, come down, step down’; K ‘make descend, lower’
+G Ps. IV /korpo-/ [MP korpomar, -, korpotär//; MPImpf. //-, -, korpyentär]; Ko. V /kārpā-/ [A -, kārpat, kārpaṃ//-, -, kārpaṃ; Inf. kārpatsi]; Pt. Ib /kārpā-/ [A karpāwa, karpāsta, kārpa//karpām, -, -]; PP /kākārpā-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /kārpäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kārpästär//]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [AOpt. kārpäṣṣim, -, -//; Inf, kārpäs(t)si]; Pt. IV /kārpäṣṣā-/ [A -, kārpäṣṣasta, -//; MP -, -, kārpäṣṣate//]; PP /kākkārpäṣṣu-/ (K-T) +ette korpyentär pitwā[t] św[ātsi] ‘they descended below to eat alms’ (430a3); mäkte wranta ckentameṃ kārpaṃ ‘as the waters descend from the rivers’ (30a8), kārpaṃ mātri kātsane camel enka[lñeś] ‘he will descend into the mother's womb to grasp at birth’ (113a3); Ylaiñätñe weṣsa karpāsta ‘thou didst descend under the guise of Indra’ (TEB-58-22); śak karmaṣṣai ytāri tā_u paṣṣimar ñiś kārpäṣṣim alyenkäṃnne ‘may I practice the way of the ten deeds and may I make [them] descend on others’ (S-3a4); śaiṣṣe ñäkta karpäṣṣasta ytārine /// ‘O Lord, thou hast made the world step down on the way’ (212a5). + -- kakkārparmeṃ. +
+kakkārpäṣṣormeṃ. +∎AB kārp- reflect PTch *kārp- whose nearest relatives would seem to be Old Norse hrapa ‘fall; hurry,’ Modern Low German rapp ‘quick,’ sik reppen ‘hurry,’ Middle Irish crip ~ crib ‘quick’ (P:935; VW, 1962a:180, 1976:196; MA:285). The Germanic forms would seem to presuppose a PIE *krob- while Tocharian would presuppose *korb-. One or the other must show metathesis (the Middle Irish, from *kṛb-, is indifferent). TchA with its present kārnā- (< *kārpnā-) and preterite *kārpā- may show an older state of affairs in Tocharian. Or, A *kārpnā- and B korpo- may both be analogical creations designed to differentiate the present from the subjunctive kārpā-. In any case, we seem to have the entire Tocharian paradigm built around an old o-grade present (see Jasanoff, 1979) *korb- (or, of course, *krob-). +

+ + +
+

+kārm +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘deed, karma’
+[kārm, -, kārm//] +(174a4). + -- karmaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a deed or to karma’: śak karmaṣṣai ytāri tā_u paṣṣimar ‘may I practice the way of the ten deeds!’ (S-3a4). +∎From BHS karma-. +

+ + +
+

+kāryakāryatstsaññe +(adj.) +‘what is to be done and not done’
+(170b2). +∎From BHS kāryākārya-. +

+ + +
+

+kāryasaṃnipātstsaññe +(n.?) +‘state of having an appointed gathering’ (?)
+(170b3). +∎An abstract in -ññe built on an adjective of possession in -tstse to the (unattested) noun *kāryasaṃnipāt ‘appointed assembly’? The underlying noun is borrowed from *kāryasaṃnipāta- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+kārre +See kāre. +

+ + +
+

+kālk(o) +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘paste deposited by oily substances when ground’
+[kālk, -, -//] +motaṣṣe kaṣāysa kālkä päkṣalle ‘with a decoction of alcohol the paste [is] to be cooked’ (497b2). + -- kalkaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a paste’ (W-26b1). +∎From BHS kalka-. +

+ + +
+

+kālp +(nnt.) +‘age, eon’
+[kālp, -, kālp//-, kalpanmaṃts, kalpanma] +ñumka ṣe solme kalpa[nma] ‘all together 91 ages [long]’ (25a3), kālp kestaṣṣe ‘an age of hunger’ (590a7). + -- kalpaṣṣe ‘prtng to an age’ (296b2); +
+kalpanmaṣṣe* ‘prtng to ages’ (591b6). +∎From BHS kalpa-. +

+ + +
+

+Kāḷodāye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Kālodāyin’ (PN)
+[Kāḷodāye, -, -//] +(H-149.X.4a3 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +

+ + +
+

+kālyśke +(n.) +‘boy, youth’
+[kālyśke, -, kālyśkeṃ (voc. kālyśka)//] +[twe Saṃci]te ñemṣait kālyśke ‘thou wert the youth S. by name’ (296a8/9), [U]ttare ñemase soy kālyśke (401a2), brāmaṃñe kālśke ‘brahmanical youth’ (Qumtura 34.1-g6 [Pinault, 1993-94:175). + -- kālśkaṣṣe ‘prtng to a boy or youth’: kālśkaṣṣe kraupesa wawārpau = BHS māṇavagaṇ aparivṛta (542a2). +∎In form a diminutive, possibly with VW (1970a:165, 1976:193) from PIE *kal- and related to Old Norse halr (an i-stem) ‘man,’ Old English häle(þ) ‘man,’ OHG helid ‘man, warrior, hero’ (< *haliþ-), Old Norse hǫldr ‘free peasant, man’ (< *haluþ-) (cf. P:524). Whether or not these Germanic (and Tocharian) words are further related to Greek kalós ‘beautiful’ is uncertain. +

+ + +
+

+kāvvi* +(n.) +‘sage, poet’
+[-, kavvintse, kāvvi//] +(361a6). + -- kavviṣṣe ‘prtng to a sage or poet’ (429b1). +∎From BHS kavi-. +

+ + +
+

+kāwo +(nf.) +‘desire, craving’
+[kāwo, -, kāwa//] +/// cmetsiśco kāwo tumeṃ tāka ‘thus there was the desire to be [re-]born’ (588b4), laks ra misāṃts kawāñ nakṣäṃ [śaul] ‘as a fish, out of desire for meat, destroys life’ (K-12b3). + -- kawātstse ‘desirous’ (516b4). +∎A nomen actionis from kāp-, q.v. which, in turn, provids the basis for the denominative kawāññ- which forms the present of kāp-. +

+ + +
+

+Kāś +(n.) +‘Kāśa’ (PN)
+[Kāś, -, -//] +/// akalṣle Kāś kau[sal]/// (4a3) [= A-431a3]. + -- kāśiṣṣe* ‘prtng to Kāś’: kāśiṣṣana ypaunane Bāraṇa[si] ‘Benares in the lands of Kāś’ (359a5). +

+ + +
+

+Kāśyap* +(n.) +‘Kāśyap’ (PN of a buddha)
+[-, -, kāśyap//kāśyapi, -, -] +(2a2). +

+ + +
+

+Kāśyape*¹ +(nm.) +designation of Nadī- and Gayākāśyapa
+[//Kāśyapi, -, Kāśyapeṃ] +tumeṃ cey wi omprotärcci kāśyapi ṣesa [aklaṣ]lyeṃ mpa maitare (108a8). +

+ + +
+

+Kāśyape² +(n.) +‘Kāśyapa’ (short for ‘Mahākāśyapa,’ a disciple of the Buddha)
+[Kāśyape, -, -//] +(25b3). +

+ + +
+

+kāswo +(n.) +‘eruption, inflammation of the skin’
+[kāswo, -, kāswa//] +(282a4), in a list of diseases: kāswo = BHS kuṣṭha- (ST-b5). + -- kaswātstse ‘having a skin eruption’: k_use yokäṃ kaswātse mäsketär ‘whoever drinks [this], he becomes "leprous"’ (ST-a5/6). +∎Probably Hilmarsson (107) is correct in relating this to Germanic *haswa- ‘grey, white’ [: Old Norse hǫss ‘grey hair’ and OHG haso ‘grey, white’; cf. also Latin cānus ‘grey’ < *kas-no-, and further P:533; MA:240] as the ‘white (disease).’ Less likely but also possible (with Winter, 1962b:113) is an originally euphemistic use of the PTch word that appears as TchA kāsu ‘good’ but the latter's own connections are uncertain. VW (1977a:141) suggests that we have here a virtual *g^wōs-wōn-, a derivative of *(z)g^wes- ‘extinguish’ but the semantics are anything but compelling. +

+ + +
+

+kātso +(nf.) +‘belly, stomach, abdomen; womb’
+[kātso, katsāntse, kātsa//katsāñ, -, -] +intsau kātsaś śeśśanmusa [= Pali udare dāramaṇ ḍalikaṃ bandhitvā] (18b8), mātri kātsane camel ‘birth in the womb of the mother’ (113a3), ñorīya kātso orottsa tākaṃ ‘[if] the lower abdomen is big’ (W-14a6), wrantse kātsane ‘in [cases of] water belly’ [= ‘dropsy’] (W-42a4/5), kasāntse [sic] = BHS -udara- (Y-3b3). + -- kātsāṣṣe ‘prtng to the belly or stomach’ (73b6). +∎TchA kāts and B kātso reflect PTch kātsān- probably (as if) from PIE *g^wōt-yōn- and related to Gothic qiþus ‘belly, womb,’ qiþuhaftō ‘pregnant,’ Old Norse kviδr (m.) ‘belly, womb,’ kviδugr ‘pregnant,’ Old English cwiþ (m.) ‘womb,’ OHG quiti ‘vulva,’ quoden ‘inner side of thigh,’ and perhaps Latin botulus ‘sausage’ (if < *‘intestine’ and borrowed from Oscan or Umbrian) (P:481). See Schwentner, 1942:228 (also VW:198; MA:2). The differences in ablaut among these words might be accounted for if they are independent derivatives of an old root noun. +
+Alternatively, Hilmarsson (1985) suggests a PIE *kuh_xtyā- or *kuh_xtyōn-; it would also be possible to assume *kweh_xtyeh_a- or the like. This set of words would be related to TchA kāc ‘skin’ (and Latin cutis, Old Norse húδ ‘id.,’ Welsh cwd ‘scrotum, sack’). The semantic relationship would be something on the order of ‘skin’ > ‘bag’ > ‘belly.’ Pinault (1991:186), on the other hand, suggests a connection with the PIE locative adverb *kati seen in Greek kasígnētos ‘brother’ with relatives in Hittite katta ‘down toward,’ kattan ‘down (at),’ and Greek katá ‘down.’ The notion of ‘stomach’ would derive from *‘that which is below’ (particularly of an animal perhaps). +

+ + +
+

+k(ä) +strengthening particle +‣Often suffixed to pronominal and other deictic words. Thus we have allek ‘other,’ ompe ~ ompek, omte ~ omtek ‘(right) there,’ tu ~ tuk ~ tuwak ‘it,’ entwe ~ entwek ‘then,’ ot ~ otak, ‘then,’ etc. +∎Etymology uncertain. Proto-Indo-European had a number of particles beginning with a velar of some sort that would be suitable antecedents, e.g. *ḱe (Latin hīc, etc., though in this case the meaning seems to have been ‘hither’ and we might rather expect distal deixis in the antecedent of the Tocharian form [Hamp, p.c.]), *ge (Greek egōge, Gothic mik), *g^he (Sanskrit ha ~ gha, OCS -že, -go), or even *k^we. Phonologically the best equation is with Slavic -gъ, Baltic -gu (e.g. Lithuanian jéigu ‘if’) from PIE *-g^(h)u. +

+ + +
+

+käkse-wreme +See kakse. +

+ + +
+

+käñcelle +See kiñcelle. +

+ + +
+

+kät- +(vt.) +‘strew (to some purpose),’ e.g. ‘sow [seeds]’
+Ps. VI /kätnā- (~ käntā-)/ [A katnau, -, katnaṃ// -, -, kantaṃ; MPPart. kätnāmane; Ger. kätnālle]; Ko. V /kātā- ~ kätā-/ [A -, -, kātaṃ// -, -, katantär; MPOpt. -, -, katoytär//; Ger katalle]; Pt. Ia /śätā- ~ kätā-/ [A -, śtāsta, -// -, -, śtāre; MP // -, -, ktānte]; PP /käto-/ +śaktalye iṅauṃ kästwer katnau ‘I sow the seed night and day’ (205a3), mäkte mäkci käṃtaṃ śaiṣṣentse tweyen aṣtsa ‘as they themselves spread the dust of the world on [their] head[s]’ [käṃtaṃ = BHS kiranti] (545a4/b1), pippāl eneṃ kätnālle ‘pepper [is] to be strewn within’ (FS-a6); [maitrey]eṃ k_use ysāṣṣāna pyapyaiṃ rā kātaṃ ‘whoever would strew maitreyas like flowers’ (274a6); śtasta śatkalye [sic] pernerñe[ṣe] onolmets pontats kärtseśc ‘thou hast sown the glorious seed for the good of all beings’ (203b2), [tau]r āṣtsa ktā[n]te po korsa ‘they scattered dust over [their] head[s] and over the whole of [their] throat[s]’ (PK-NS-36A-a5 [Couvreur, 1964:247]). + -- ktormeṃ +∎AB kät- reflect PTch *kät- from PIE *(s)ked- ‘scatter’ [: Greek skedánnūmi/skídnēmi ‘scatter, strew,’ English scatter, shatter, Lithuanian kedėti ‘burst,’ and other, more dubious, cognates in Indo-Iranian, Albanian, and Slavic (P:919; MA:500)] (VW, 1963a:464-5, 1976:211; H:108-109 with differing details). As VW rightly points out the equation of Tocharian kätnā- and Greek skidnē- from PIE *(s)k_edneh_a- is especially striking and significant. +See also śäktālye and possibly ktakat. +

+ + +
+

+kätarñe* +(adj.) +prtng to some species of plant
+[f: //kätarñana, -, -] +kätarñana tsänkana (W-9a6). +‣The word may also be read känarñana. +

+ + +
+

+kätk-¹ +(vi./vt.) +G (intr.) ‘proceed, pass on; pass [of time]’; (tr.) ‘cross, traverse, pass through [e.g. the sea]; transgress, commit [sin, deed]’; ¹K ‘have [someone] proceed’; ²K ‘allow passage’
+G ⁽¹⁾Ps. VI /kätknā-/ [A //-, -, kätk(a)naṃ]; ⁽²⁾Ps VII /kättänk-/ [A -, -, kättankäṃ// -, -, kättankäṃ]; ⁽³⁾Ps. IXa /kätkāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kätkāṣtär//]; Ko. V /kätkā-/ [A -, katkat ~ kātkat (KVāc.10b2), katkaṃ//; MPOpt. -, -, kätkoytär//; Inf. katkatsi; Ger. katkalle]; Pt. Ia /śätkā-/ [A śätkāwa ~ śitkāwa, śätkāsta, śatka// -, -, śätkāre ~ śitkāre]; PP /kätko-/; +
+¹K Ko. IX (=/ Ps.) /kätkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. katkäs(t)si]; Ko. II /śätk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. śäccatsi]; Imp. IV /kätkäṣṣā-/ [MPSg. katkäṣṣar]; Pt. II /śātkā-/ [MP -, śatkātai, -//]; +
+²K Ps. IXb /śätkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. śatkäṣṣeñca] +[t]āk ytārisa poyśinta kätkanaṃ tāksa arhānti ‘by this route the buddhas pass over and by this one the arhats’ (29b4), [ka]tknaṃ tränkonta ‘he commits sins’ (36b4); mäkte śaul [kä]ttankäṃ ‘as life passes’ (3a2), mant kättankäṃ śaulanma mā ṣp wtentse klautkonträ ‘so lives pass and do not turn again’ [kättankäṃ = BHS gacchate] (3a4); su kätkāṣtär ypomna k_uṣaiṃ ṣpä ‘he traverses lands and villages’ (Dd6.2.4); ///ñcai laute mā kätkoytär-me ‘[the right insight] must not pass from you’ (11a4), nest kerekauna k[a]tkatsi ‘thou art to traverse the flood’ (355b4); mäktā_u ytārisa makte śätkāwa cmelṣe samudtär ‘by what way did I myself pass through the sea of birth?’ (29a7), śatkast=[e]mp[reṃś] ś[a]ksa ‘thou has proceeded by good fortune to truth’ (247a1), ymāne lykaśkana śikṣapātäntats [ts]amo śitkāre ‘naturally they transgressed greatly the lesser śikṣāpadas’ (PK-AS-18B3-b1/2 [Thomas, 1987c:90-91]); mā lauke kca kätkau sū preke ste ‘the time has not passed long’ (77a5), kätkau_u-ekmätte-yneśäññi k_use läklenta ‘the sufferings which [are] of the past, future, and present’ (284b4), [in Manichean script] k’tkv (Winter/Gabain:12); käṣṣi ... ṣamāneṃ bhavākkärṣṣai yoñiyai eṃṣke katkässi añmassu ‘the teacher [who was] desirous of getting the monks to proceed unto the way of the last-and-highest-existence’ (108b3); krent yāmor mā yāmoṣäṃ ce[n n]o śäccätsī pkate ‘he intended, however, to let [those who had] not done the good deed proceed’ (133a4); Gānkne olyisa tseñe kätkäṣṣar ‘by boat cross this stream of the Ganges!’ (296b4); /// [pā]täräṃ m[ā]täräṃ śatkātai /// ‘thou hast allowed fathers and mothers to proceed’ (403a3); ///ṣeme samudtär []śatkäṣṣeñca ṣeme stām kleśaṣṣe āsäṣṣeñca po ‘alone allowing passage of the sea [of births], alone drying up completely the kleśa-tree’ (29b2). +‣All three presents of the Grundverb would seem to be historically replacements, created on the basis of the subjunctive for the expected **kätke-. The first and second "causatives" are the causatives of the intransitive and transitive meanings of the Grundverb respectively. + -- kätkormeṃ; +
+kätkor* ‘passage [of time]; past’: kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne ‘in the passage of days and months’ (3b5), kätkor ekamätte karsatsi ‘to know past and future’ (PK-AS-16.2b5:156 [Pinault, 1989]); +
+kätkālñe ‘± passage, crossing [of a stream]’ (?): se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyana[mpa o]lyine ṣamäṃ kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat parna totte kat[k]alñesa pāyti ‘[if] a monk is seated in a boat, by agreement, with nuns and guides the boat upstream or downstream, except for going across [the stream, it is] pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-b4/5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]); +
+kätkalñeṣṣe ‘± prtng to passing’ (332.2b5). +∎AB kätk- reflect PTch *kätk- from PIE *k_ed-sḱe/o-, a zero-grade sḱe-present corresponding to the otherwise isolated Latin cēdere/ cessi/cessum ‘go, proceed’ (MA:229). Though formally distinct from the Latin verb, the sḱe-present underlying the Tocharian verb and the lengthened-grade present of Latin may both represent iterative-intensive formations and thus be semantically equivalent. Not with VW (211-212) related to Greek kéuthō ‘hide’ nor with Meillet (in Hoernle, 1916:378) is it related to Latin cadere ‘fall.’ +See also śatkai, eśatkai, and ekatkātte. +

+ + +
+

+kätk-² +(vt.) +‘± lower, set (down)’
+Ps. II /kätk^'ä/_e-/ [AImpf. //-, -, käccīyeṃ; Ger. käccalle]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [MPOpt. -, -, käccītär//] +///keñc kektseñ käccīyeṃ-ne yāresa ‘they ... lowered his body on the gravel’ (22b4), [śi]ñcäcce meltesa käccilya ‘[it is not] to be put down on snow-covered [cow]dung’ (H-149.37a3 [Krause, 1954:129]); tsakṣtär ysalyṣe pūwarsa sū ce compämpa käccītär ‘he burns with the fire of jealousy[, thinking]: he must lie down with this one or that’ (33b5). +∎The shape (rather than kätt- that is usually given), meaning, and etymology grow out of a tentative suggestion of VW's (212) that ¹kätk- might be related to kätkare and that there was no phonological bar to relating kätt- (i.e. ²kätk-) to ¹kätk-. I don't think ¹kätk- belongs here, but I do think it likely that ²kätk- and kätkare can be put together. I take ²kätk- to represent a verb, in PIE terms *kat-sḱe/o-, built on the preposition *kat-a ‘down(ward)’ seen otherwise in Hittite katta and Greek káta ~ katá ‘id.’ (MA:169). It is noteworthy in Hittite that we have katkattiya- ‘kneel, go down’ (vel sim.) from katta (cf. also āppā(i)- ‘be completed’ from āppa ‘back’ or parā(i)- ‘appear, come forth’ from parā ‘forth’). The same kind of verbal derivative of a preposition (or better "locative adverb") is probably to be seen in ās-¹ ‘bring,’ and wäs- the suppletive preterite of ai- ‘give,’ qq.v. Not (with Krause and Thomas, 1960:65; Normier, 1980:256, s.v. kätkare; H:111) from PIE *ḱeud^h- ‘hide’ seen in Greek keúthō, Armenian sowzem, English hide. +See also kätkare. +

+ + +
+

+kätkare +(adj.) +‘deep, far (of height)’ ; (adv.) ‘deep, far’
+[m: katkre ~ kätkare, -, kätkreṃ/ kätkri, -, -/] [f: // -, -, kätkrona] +wrotsana ckenta kaumaiño samudtärnta kätkron=epinkte ‘the great rivers and pools amidst the deep seas’ (45b7), kloyoträ kätkr[e] ‘he falls far’ (47a2), [papāṣṣo]rñesa astare [om]p[a]lskoññesa kätkare ‘pure in good behavior and deep in meditation’ (345a1). + -- kätkr-ārth ‘of deep meaning’: kokaleṣṣe [men]āksa ślok ce weña kätkr=ārtho ‘by the comparison of the wagon he spoke this śloka [of] deep meaning’ (5a7/8); +
+kätkarñe ‘depth’: aiśamñentse kätkarä[ññ]e = BHS buddhigām-bhīryam (H-149.47a5 [Couvreur, 1966: 162]). +∎An adjectival derivative in -ro from kätk-², q.v. +See also enkätkre. +

+ + +
+

+kätkor +See kätk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+kän- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘come to pass [of a wish]; be realized’; K ‘fulfill [a wish]’
+G Ps. I/II /kän(^'ä/_e)-/ [MP -, -, kantär//]; Ko. III /käne-/ [MP -, -, knetär//; MPOpt. -, -, kñītär//; Ger. knelle]; PP /kekenu-/ ‘be provided [with]’; +
+K Ps. IXb /känäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, knastar, knastär//; APart. kanäṣṣeñca]; Ko. II + V (?) /känī-ā-/ [MPOpt. -, -, käñiyoytär//]; Ko. V /kyānā-/ [MP kyānamar, -, -//]; Ko. IX /känāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kanaṣäṃ// -, kanaścer, -]; Pt. II k(y)ānā-/ [A kyānawa, kyānasta, kyāna// -, -, kanāre] +[akāl]k k[a]ntär ñ[i] ‘my wish comes true’ (594a1), centsak saimtsa ka[ntär] se śaiṣṣe ‘by the support of these this world is realized’ (PK-AS 16.2a2:154 [Pinault, 1989]); cwī yāmorntse [o]kosa se=kālk kñītär-ñ ‘may my wish be fulfilled by the fruit of this work!’ (S-2b3); [ṣamā]ññ[eṃ] yakneṃtsa ṣai kekenu ‘he was provided with monkish habits’ (12a4), kekenu = BHS sampanna- (H-149.315a3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:491]), kälṣam-ñeṣṣai maiyyasa kekenu ñiś ṣek tāk[oym] ‘may I always be possessed of the strength of endurance!’ (S-5a4); su su cwi akālk po kn[a]stär-n[e] (375a1), pw akālkänta kanṣeñca ‘all wishes fulfilling’ (14a5); wesi rano ritau akālk käñiyoytär ‘may our cherished wish be fulfilled!’ (107b7/8); /// poyśñe akālk kyānamar (401b4); kanaṣäṃ-ne (PK-NS-48a1 [Thomas, 1978b:179, fn. 151]), kr_ui ye[s ñī] ce akālk kan[aścer ot] nke ñśam[eṃ] ... pruccamñe yanmac[e]r ‘if you fulfill this wish for me, then from me you will attain excellence’ (81b1); pontats ñiś akālkänta kyānawa ‘I have fulfilled the wishes of all’ (113b2), tusa krentewnants p[o] ak[e] sak [k]yānasta ‘thus thou has made [in] good fortune the end of all virtues’ (224b1). + -- knelñe ‘fulfillment’: akālkäntse knelñe ‘the fulfillment of a wish’ (S-6b5); +
+knelñeṣṣe ‘prtng to fulfillment’ (591a6). +∎AB kän- reflect PTch *kän- from PIE *ǵenh₁- ‘beget, bear’ [: Sanskrit jánati ‘produces,’ Greek gígnomai ‘become,’ Latin gignō ‘beget, produce,’ nāscor ‘be born’ (< *ǵṇh₁-sḱe/o-), Armenian cnanim ‘be born’ (< *ǵṇh₁-neh_a-), etc. (P:373-375; MA:56)] (Poucha, 1930:324, VW:204; H:74-76 with differing details). The Tocharian subjunctive reflects a putative *ǵṇh₁-ó-, the present perhaps *ǵṇh₁ye/o-. +

+ + +
+

+käntsa +‘?’
+/// [śai]ṣṣentse ce_u preke takoy käntsa kalpänma känte=kṣṇai snai /// ‘by känt [for] a hundred ages wrongly and without ...’ [?] (388b7). +

+ + +
+

+känte +See kante. +

+ + +
+

+käntwāśke* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘little tongue’
+[-, -, käntwāśke//] +träntācce käntwāśkesa [pälwā]mane ‘beseeching with choked up little tongue’ (85b3). +∎A diminutive of kantwo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+käm- +(vi.) +‘come’
+Ps. Xa /känmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, känmaṣṣäṃ// -, -, känmaskeṃ; MP -, -, känmastär//]; Ko. II /śä(n)m^'ä/_e-/ [A -, śamt, śamäṃ ~ śanmäṃ// -, -, śanmeṃ; AOpt. -, -, śanmi// -, -, śänmīyeṃ; MPOpt. śmīmar ~ śänmīmar, -, -//; Inf. śamtsi; Ger. śmalle]; Pt. VI /śem- ~ käm- ~ kämtsā-/ [A -, śem, śem// kmem, -, kameṃ; MP // -, kamtsatai, - // -, -, kamtsante]; PP /kekämu-/ +yenti känmaskeṃ ‘the winds come’ (581b3), [ecce] känmaskeṃ = BHS āyānti (H-149.47b4 [Couvreur, 1966:162]), wrocceṃ cämpamñecceṃ s=onolmeṃmpa känmasträ ṣesa ‘this one comes together with great able beings’ (K-9a4); rämer Rājagrine śämt ‘quickly thou wilt come to R.’ (514a5), n_änok śanmäṃ ciś retke ‘again the army will descend upon thee’ (22a2), ñke preśya śamn ‘now the time will come’ (27b7), śanmäṃ swese kälymīnmeṃ śtwāra toṃ ‘the rain comes from [all] four directions’ (A-2a6), śmälle preke ‘the coming time’ (279b4); [wināṣṣä]lyñesa pālalyñesa warñai yarke yāmormeṃ te akālk ñäṣṣalle k_uce klautkesa twe aṣanīka sawāsa[nta] y[olai]ñenta[nts] ākesa śem [2nd sg.] (PK-NS-48+258a2/3 [Pinault, 1991b]), se pudñäktentse śem erkatñe orotse ‘this great anger came to the Buddha’ (17a3), śemo (21a6), tumeṃ c[ai] brāhmaṇi ... Areṇemiñ lānte yapoyne kameṃ ‘then these brahmans came into king A.'s country’ (81b2), tu preścyai[neṣe ka]mtsatai-ñ (H-ADD.149.62-b5 [Couvreur, 1966:165]); [tai]kn[e]sa kekamoṣ = BHS tathāgatāḥ (27b5), Gankne kekmu mäkte yaiku nāki ṣesa reṣṣäṃ war ‘as the blameless water [which has] come in the Ganges flows into the ocean’ (30a4), alyaik kekmoṣ ñyātsene ‘others [have] come into danger’ (31b8=32b2). + -- kekamor: k_use [pi] ksa wesäñ kekamor orocce lant śarsässi ‘who [has] come to us to know the great king?’ (81b3); +
+kekmormeṃ; +
+śmalñe ‘coming’: aknātsaimpa ṣe śmalyñe mā ñī tāko_ī śänmīmar krentäṃmp=eṣe ‘may there not be to me a coming with a fool, [rather] may I come with good [people]’ (S-4b3); +
+śänmalñe ‘id.’ (S-6a4); +
+śänmalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to coming’ (511a3). +∎A kum- and B käm- reflect PTch *k(w)äm- from PIE *g^wem- ‘come, go’ [: Sanskrit gácchati ‘goes,’ Avestan jasaiti ‘id.,’ Greek baínō ‘go,’ Latin veniō ‘come,’ Sanskrit gámati ‘goes,’ Gothic qiman ‘come,’ Old English cuman ‘id.,’ Lithuanian gemù ‘be born,’ etc. (P:464-5; MA 115)] (Pischel, 1908:933, VW:242; H:73-74 with differing details). The TchB preterite śem may be the exact match for the athematic aorist seen in Indic ágan and Armenian ekn (*é-g^wem-t), if PIE *-e- shows up as PTch -ē- in monosyllables (Winter, p.c.). The rest of the preterite may result from the generalization of the weak grade proper to the plural (i.e. kameṃ < *g^wm-ónt). The TchB subjunctive, which in its historically older form is śäm^'ä/_e-, may be the exact equivalent of the thematic subjunctive seen in Indic, i.e., gámati. If so, it is the clearest indication of an inherited subjunctive to be found in Tocharian. As to the present, it may be that Tocharian preserves an old *g^wṃsḱe/o- [= Sanskrit gácchati]. We might expect *g^wṃsḱe/o- to have given PTch *käsk-, compare käsk- from *gw^hṇsḱe/o- or mäsk- from *mṇsḱe/o-. However, it does not seem impossible that a pre-Tocharian *kwämsk- eventuated in *kwämnsk- as the nasal partially anticipated the place of articulation of the following -s- and then a svarabhakti vowel was inserted giving *kwämnäsk-. A similar history might be seen in the history of täm- ‘be born,’ q.v. +See also ekamätte. +

+ + +
+

+käre-perne +See kare. +

+ + +
+

+kärk-¹ +(vt.) +‘rob, steal’
+Ps. VI /kärk(ä)nā-/ (see kärkanamo); Ko. V /kärkā-/ [Inf. karkatsi]; Pt.Ia /kärkā-/ [MP -, -, kärkāte// -, -, kärkānte] +mäksu wat wäntre lykaṃts kärkatsi a[māskai] ‘or what thing [is] difficult to steal by thieves?’ (14b7), yärponta lykaṃtsa pos=amāskai karkats[i] ‘good works [are] the most difficult to steal by thieves’ (14b8); ///s=entwe kärkānte-ne kle[śanma]/// (26b6). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (205) suggests a connection with Latin grex ‘herd’ from *ger- ‘gather’ by broken reduplication (*gre-g-) and a semantic development ‘gather’ > ‘steal.’ The hypothesis is neither phonologically nor semantically satisfying. +See also kärkanamo and kärkauca. +

+ + +
+

+kärk-² +(vt.) +‘bind’
+Ps. X /kärkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. kärkaṣṣälle]; PP /kekkärku-/ +klaiñe te[ki] karsaträ te[ki] /// kärkaṣäle pretsa mä[sketrä] ‘[if] a gynecological disease is discovered, the disease [is] .... to be bound; she finds herself pregnant’ (505b3/4); ///täṃmäṣle srukallesa [ ] māka kekkärkū/// (142b3). +‣The meaning is largely determined by the contexts in which its TchA equivalent is found. Thus we have at 4a4: äntāṃne tkanā sam tsmār kärkñäṣ ‘where the root binds to earth’ [tsmār kärkñäṣ = BHS mūlam badhnāti], or 71b6: pokeṃ ṣkāra kakärkuräṣ ‘having bound [his] arms behind [his back].’ One should note the close formal match of the TchA preterite particple kakärku with the TchB one. +∎AB kärk- reflect PTch *kärk- from PIE *kerg^h- ‘tie, bind,’ otherwise seen only in Lithuanian ker̃gti ‘tie, bind’ (Fraenkel, 1932:229-30, VW:206; MA:65). Lithuanian's having ker̃g- here rather than *kérg- leads us, as Hamp (p.c.) suggests, to posit a PIE *kerg^h- rather than *kerg- since the latter should have had Proto-Baltic lengthening by Winter's Law. +See also kerketse and śerkw. +

+ + +
+

+kärk-³ +(vi.) +‘sprout’
+PP /kärko-/ +malkwer patsaṃ uppāläṣṣana witsakaṃmpa kärkoṣ śātrempa mā śwālle ‘milk and pollen with lotus roots or with germinated grain [is] not to be eaten’ (ST-a4). +∎Perhaps from PIE *ḱr(e)h₁- ‘grow’ with a velar élargissement (cf. kalāk- ‘walk,’ walāk- ‘dwell’). More s.v. karāk ‘branch.’ One should note that the expectable *ḱrh₁-sḱe/o- cannot be the antecedent of the Tocharian form since that should have given *kärsk-. +

+ + +
+

+kärk-⁴ +(vt.) +‘± hack up’
+Ko. I/II /kärk(^'ä/_e)-/ [AOpt. // -, -, kärśiyeṃ]; PP /kekärśu-/ +spaitu ra waltsañy [= waltsaṃ-ñi] āsta lykaśke po wnolmi [] kärśye-ñ kektseñ wat ‘all beings ground my bones fine like dust or they hacked apart my body’ (220b4); läksañana misa lykaśke kekarśwa tsatsāpauwa ‘fish meat finely chopped and crushed’ (P-1a21/). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (208) suggests a connection with PIE *(s)ker- ‘cut’ which is excellent semantically but less convincing otherwise since among the plethora of élargissements of *(s)ker- there are none with a velar. Thus a putative *(s)ker-K- is not paralleled. Hilmarsson (H:94) suggests that we actually have kärst- (with a present kärst-y^ä/_e-, etc.) and thus a relationship with kärst- ‘cut off.’ Such a suggestion provides an excellent etymology semantically but at the cost of complicating the phonological development unduly. +

+ + +
+

+kärkanamo +(adj.) +‘± stealing, taking away’
+[kärkanamo, -, -//] +k_uce cai śtwore (?) śno kärkänamo ‘when the rākṣasī snatching the woman away (from the fire?)’ (BM 1 [= BM 163], apud H:87) +∎A derivative of kärk-¹ ‘rob, steal,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kärkauca +(n.) +‘± stealer’
+[kärkauca, -, -//] +pilko palsko kärkauca ‘stealer of thought and insight’ (H-ADD.149.89a8 [K]). +∎A derivative of kärk-¹ ‘rob, steal,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kärkkālle* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± swamp, marsh’
+[-, -, kärkkālle//] +saṃsāräṣṣe kärkkālle[n]e sesīnoṣäṃ ‘depressed in the swamp of the saṃsāra’ (408a7), yaiku kärkkālle = BHS vinītakardamo (PK-NS-107b4 [Thomas, 1976b:106]). +∎In form kärkkālle and A kärtkāl ‘id.’ look to be derivatives (specifically gerunds built on the subjunctive stem) of the following verb, kärtk-, which would, in Indo-European terms, be *K(e)rT-sḱe/o-. It seems etymologically significant that kärkkālle translates the otherwise isolated Sanskrit kardama- ‘mud, slime, mire; dirt, filth’ (cf. Mayrhofer, 1956:173) with the requisite root structure. Tocharian and Indic together argue for a PIE *kerd- which is probably also to be found in Latin mūs-cerda ‘mouse-dung’ and sūcerda ‘sheep-dung’ (MA:186). To Latin -cerda one should compare semantically TchB kekärtkorṣṣe ṣpel (see s.v. kärtk-) ‘kekärtkorṣṣe poultice’ if it is the same as melteṣṣe ṣpel ‘dung-poultice.’ Iranian shows (Bailey, 1979:417) a root *xarδ- in Khotanese khārgga- (< *xarδ-ka-) ‘mud,’ saṃkhal- (< *tsama-xarδ-, with the prefix showing expressive strengthening beside regular *hama- < *sama-) ‘smear, defile,’ Modern Persian xard ‘clay,’ Chorasmian xþrk ‘dust,’ Shughni šarþk ‘clay,’ šarδ, šux̆t ‘defecate,’ Yazgulamani xawδ, xax̆t ‘id.,’ Pashto axēṛəl ‘to plaster.’ The correspondence of Indic k- and Iranian x- is not regular but there are enough instances where Iranian shows an innovative (expressive?) x- where we would expect k- (e.g. Avestan xumba- ‘pot’ beside Sanskrit kumba-) that there is no reason to exclude the Iranian words from consideration here. It is possible that another derivative of this root is to be seen in German Harz (nt.) ‘resin, rosin, gum,’ reflecting a putative PIE *kordo- (though any connection of Harz and kardama- is specifically denied by Mayrhofer). Not with VW (208) who, without making any mention of kärtk-, suggests a connection with Sanskrit kartá- ‘separation, distinction; hole’ and kṛntáti ‘cut.’ +

+ + +
+

+kärtk- +(vb.) +‘± defile oneself; defecate’ (??)
+Ps. IX /kärtkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kärtkäṣṣäṃ//]; PP /kekärtku-/ (see absolute) +k_use oñtn[e] [sic] kärtkäṣṣäṃ/// (259a1). + -- kekärtkor attested only in the derived adjective kekärtkorṣṣe ‘prtng to dung’ (?): /// tuñänma kekärtkorṣṣe [ṣpel] /// (PK-12K-b6 [Krause, 1952:185]). +∎See kärkkālle*. +

+ + +
+

+kärn- +(vt.) +‘± strike, afflict’
+Ps. IX /kärnnäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. karnnäṣṣeñca] +upatāpi karnnäṣṣeñca [] la[kl]e [] [ubhayav]ī-pa[r]īta[m] [] mā parākäṣṣeñca mā karn[n]äṣṣeñca upe[kṣ] ‘upatāpi inflicting pain ubhayavī-parītam not gladdening not afflicting, indifference’ (197b5/6). +‣Our knowledge of the meaning is fleshed out by the more abundant attestations in TchA, e.g. 379a4 (tsaryo kakärnāṃ ‘he struck him with [his] hand’), 321b3 (rapeyäntu kärnäsmāṃ yeñc ‘they went [around] striking/ playing [their] musical instruments’), 320a5 (ñare-lwā pretāñ kaṣt yokeyo kakärnuṣṣeñc ‘the hell-animals and pretas were afflicted with hunger and thirst’), 212a6 (mokoneyo käkärnu ‘afflicted with old-age’). +∎Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:144-5, also VW:206) suggests a connection with Greek keraízō ‘devastate, ravage’ and Sanskrit śṛnāti ‘harms, destroys.’ More specifically VW assumes that we have here a denominative verb built on a past participle *ḱṛh_x-no- (cf. Sanskrit śīrṇá-) but PIE *-rn- should have given Tocharian -rr- (cf. the treatment of *-rn- in kärr-). That we have attested -rn- would seem to mean that the contact of -r- and -n- is secondary (cf. the similar situation of käln-). +
+Thus AB kärn- must reflect PTch *krän- or possibly *kärCn- and it seems that the original meaning was something like ‘strike.’ Thus the probable connection is with Greek kroúō ‘strike (together), strike a stringed instrument with a plectrum, knock [at the door]’ (< *krousye/o-) and kroaínō (of a horse) ‘stamp, strike with the hoof’ (< *krowṇye/o-) from PIE *kreu-s- ‘± strike’ [: also Old English hrēowan ‘grieve, distress, afflict,’ OHG (h)rieuwa ‘id.’ (< *kreu-), Old Norse hrosti (m.) ‘mashed malt,’ Lithuanian krušù/kriaušaũ ‘smash, crash; grind,’ OCS sъ-krušiti ‘shatter’ (P:622-623; MA:549)]. I take PTch *krän- to be, in Indo-European terms, *kru-neh_a- and thus closest formally to Greek kroaínō; the *-n- properly restricted to the present has been extended everywhere as in śänm- ‘come,’ rin- ‘renounce,’ and aun- ‘wound,’ qq.v. In a similar fashion the present-stem formative *-sḱ- has been extended throughout the paradigm in many verbs. +See also karnor. +

+ + +
+

+kärpiye* +(adj.) +‘common, raw, rough’
+[-, -, kärpiyeṃ//kärpi, kärpīyeṃts, -] +kärpi yśe[lmi] ‘raw sensual desires’ (8a3), cmenträ kwri yśāmna kärpi mäskenträ ‘if they are born among men, they will be common’ (K-8a1). + -- kärpye-yakne ‘common’: kärpye-yakne mā klyomo ‘[thou art] of common type, not noble’ (5b8). +∎A kärpi and B kärpiye reflect PTch *kärpiye (as if) from PIE *krup(i)yo- [: Old Icelandic hrjūfr ‘crude, rough,’ Old English hrēof ‘crude, rough, leprous’ (> English rough), OHG hriob ‘leprous,’ g(e)rob ‘fat, clumsy, undistinguished’ (> NHG grob), Lithuanian kraupùs ‘dreadful, rough; timid’] (VW, 1970a:166, 1976:207; MA:490, 523). +

+ + +
+

+käry- +(vt.) +‘buy’
+Ps. Xa /kär(y)nāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kärnāstär//; MPPart. kärnāskemane]; Ko. VI /kär(y)nā-/ [Inf. kärnātsi]; Pt. Ia /käryā-/ [A // käryām, -, -; MP -, käryātai, -// käryāmte, -, -]; PP /käryo-/ +k_use ṣamāne karyor pito yamasträ olank kärnāsträ kwāts plankṣäṃ pärkāwse pelkiṃ ‘whatever monk does buying and selling and buys cheaply and sells dearly for the sake of profit’ (337b3); ikäṃ-trai kṣuṃntsa śtarce meṃne Putewatte olākwāṃne aisi yakwe kärnāsi yātka-me ‘in the 23rd regnal year, in the fourth month, P. commanded [them] to give in the olākwāṃ [in order] to buy a horse’ (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Couvreur, 1954c:86]); Suwarti kauko käryām k_uśāneṃtsa 700 (490a-II-2), śaul käryātai ‘thou hast bought [thy] life’ (239b2); tāṣtär pelaikne śaulanmasa käryau se ‘the law is established; it [is] bought by lives’ (G-Su1-c). +∎From PIE *k^wreih_a- ‘buy’ [: Sanskrit krīṇāti ‘buys,’ Old Irish crenaim (< *k^wrineh_a-), Old Russian krьnuti ‘buy’ (with a transfer from *-neh_a- to *-new-), Greek príamai ‘buy,’ Old Lithuanian (gen.) krieno ‘pretium pro sponsis’ (P:648; MA:185)] (Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:378, Lidén, 1916: 19-20, VW:209-210). The TchB subjunctive (relegated from the present) kärnā- is, pace VW, the exact equivalent of the Indic and Celtic present formations (PIE *k^wrineh_a-). For other discussions of the development of PIE *k^wrih_a- to TchB käry-, see K. T. Schmidt, 1982:365, and Lindeman, 1987:301. +See also karyor and käryorttau. +

+ + +
+

+käryāñ +(n.pl.) +‘hearts’
+[//käryāñ, -, -] +ṣemeṃts käryāñ pruknānträ räskre māka tsärkalyi ‘the hearts of some [scil. the sick and dying] are bounding and they are very heavily tormented’ (H-149.14a4 [H:100]). +‣The usual word for ‘heart’ in TchB is of course arañce. The survival of käryāñ in this one passage is a notable archaism. +∎TchA kri (m.) ‘will’ and B käryā- reflect PTch *käryā- from PIE *kṛd(i)yeh_a- [: Greek kardíā (f.) ‘heart,’ Old Irish cride (nt.) ‘id.’ (< *kṛdiyom), and more distantly English heart, Lithuanian širdìs (f.) ‘heart, kernel,’ OCS sьrdьce ‘heart,’ Latin cor (nt.) ‘heart,’ Greek kēr (nt.) ‘heart,’ Armenian sirt ‘heart,’ Sanskrit hṛd- ‘heart’ (with unexpected initial) (P:579-580), Hittite kir ‘heart,’ Hieroglyphic Luvian zar-za ‘heart’ (Melchert, 1987:197-198; MA:262-263)] (Sapir, 1936:263, VW:235; H:100). +

+ + +
+

+käryorttaññe* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 12 syllables [rhythm 5/7]
+[-, -, käryorttaññe//] +(350b3). +∎A derivative of käryorttau, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+käryorttau +(nm.) +‘trader, merchant’
+[käryorttau, käryorttante, -//käryorttañc, käryorttantäṃts, käryorttantäṃ] +käryortantäṃts lātkatsi kektseñ wsā[sta] ‘thou gavest the body to be cut by the merchants’ (239b3). +∎A derivative of karyor, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+käryortstse* +(adj.) +‘prtng to commerce’
+[-, -, käryorcce//] +[se ṣamāne ... ytā]ri yaṃ [] waṣik kälpasṣṣukiṃ yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ käryorccempa wat ‘if a monk travels a road with a waṣik kälpasṣṣukiṃ, a yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ, or someone concerned with commerce’ (330a5). +∎A derivative of karyor, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kärr- +(vt.) +‘scold’
+Ps. V /kärrā-/ [Ger. kärrālle]; Ko. V (= Ps.) [MP -, -, kärrātär//]; Pt. I /kärrā-/ [MP -, -, kärrāte//]. +aṣā[nike] mā ṣ kärrāll[e] klautkattsi [sic] (350b6); /// mā kärrātär-me /// (116.9). +∎A form without s-mobile corresponding to skär-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kärwaṃts +See karwa. +

+ + +
+

+kärweñe* +(n.) +‘stone’ ; (coll.) ‘rock’
+[-, -, kärweñ//kärweñi, -, -] +k_use sw aśāw=omte yare krāke wat kärweñi ‘what [is] rough here: gravel, dirt, or stones’ (7a7), or kärweñ tättālñe ‘setting/stacking wood or rock’ (331a1). + -- kärweñäṣṣe ‘stony’ (565b3). +∎Etymology unclear. Perhaps with VW (1960:39-40, 1976:209; also H:98-99 with differing details) we should relate this word (and the Tocharian kärwaṃsaṃ ‘on the rocks’ [see H:98]) to Sanskrit grāvan- (m.) ‘stone for pressing the soma,’ Old Irish bráu (gen. broon) ‘millstone, quern’ (< *grāwṇ-)--cf. P:476-477; MA:474. If so, the Tocharian would represent a putative PIE *g^wṛh_xwon-en-, a derivative of the *g^wreh_xwen- that lies behind the Indic and Celtic forms. Since the Indic and Celtic words are possibly part of a large set derived from *g^wer(h_x)- ‘heavy,’ the Tocharian meaning would represent a generalization from ‘millstone’ to any stone (though Winter, 1998:351, presupposed the opposite semantic development). It is also possible to see kärweñe the descendent of a derivative of the *ḱérh_awṛn- ‘thunderbolt’ seen in Greek kéraunos. The Tocharian would reflect *ḱṛh_awon-en- and the meaning would be generalized from ‘thunderstone’ (the stones that are supposed to be the result of a lightning strike). +

+ + +
+

+-kärśa +See arśakärśa. +

+ + +
+

+kärs- +(vt.) +G ‘know, understand, recognize’; K ‘make known’
+G Ps. VI /kärsnā-/ [A kärsanau, kärsanat, kärsanaṃ// kärsanam, -, -; MP -, -, kärsanatär//; AImpf. // -, -, kärsanoyeṃ; Ger. kärsanalle]; Ko. V /kārsā- ~ kärsā-/ [A kārsau, -, kārsaṃ//; MP -, -, karsatär//; AOpt. karsoym, -, karsoy// -, -, karsoṃ; MPOpt. karsoymar, -, karsoytär//; Inf. karsatsi; Ger. karsalle]; Ipv. I /päkārsā-/ [ASg. pkārsa, Pl. pkarsas; MPSg. pkarsar]; Pt. Ia /särsā-/ [A śärsāwa, śärsāsta, śarsa// -, -, śärsāre]; PP /kärso-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /śärsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, śarsäṣṣäṃ//-, -, śarsäskeṃ; AImpf. -, -, śarsäṣṣi//]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [AOpt. -, -, śarsäṣṣi//]; Pt. II /śārsā-/ [A -, -, śārsa// -, -, śarsāre]; PP /śeśśärso-/. +kärsanoyeṃ toy tu epe mā ‘did these [animals] understand it or not?’ (575a3/4), kärsänalle = BHS jñeya (148a3/4); kr_ui palsko kārsau-ne ṣeme ślok klyauṣtsi ayu-ne ‘if I am to understand his spirit, I will give him one śloka to hear’ (99a5), karsaträ ‘it will be recognized’ (505b3), [ka]rsatsi = BHS ājñātum (H-149.245a6 [Thomas, 1969:295]), kätkor ekamätte karsatsi ‘to know past and future’ (PK-AS-16.2b5:156 [Pinault, 1989]); ten nai pkārsa päst paṣ ñy ostameṃ ‘know this with certainty and go from my house!’ (23b6), pärweṣṣe śl[o]kne [ce ye]s ārth pkarsas ‘in the first śloka you are to recognize this meaning’ (18a3), pkärso [lege: pkärsso, for pkärsaso] (284b7); śarsa empremna ‘he recognized the truths’ (48a3); te śārsa-me pudñäkt=ānaiśai mā ranw aiku kärsau ñy akalṣle ‘this the Buddha clearly made known: my student is neither known nor famous’ (31a7/8=32a2); kreñc no c[ai po] kr[e]ntäṃne śarsäskeṃ-ne eñw[et]sts[e] ‘for these good ones [scil. buddhas] make us recognize all good things anew’ [śarsäskeṃ-ne eñwetstse = BHS nivedayanti] (5b1), akālk śarsäṣṣäṃ-ne ‘he makes known [his] desire’ (325a5); k_use [pi] ksa wesäñ kekamor orocce lant śarsässi ‘who [has] come to us [that] he might know the great king?’ (81b3); te-ramt śārsa-me nesäṃ ytārye tne saṃsārmeṃ ‘thus he made this known to them: here is the road from the saṃsāra’ (30a5). + -- kärsor ‘± knowledge, understanding’: ñakta ñikcye-menāk aiśamñesa kärsor star-ś ‘O lord, because of [thy] divine-like wisdom, thou hast the knowledge’ (DAM-507a2 [Pinault, 1984a:24]); +
+kärsormeṃ: kektseñ kärsormeṃ = BHS kāyaṃ viditvā (U-23b1); +
+karsalñe ‘knowledge’: mā karsalñemeṃ = BHS ajñānāt (542b6). +∎AB kärs- reflect PTch *kärs-, probably (with VW, 1941:26, 1976:207) from PIE *kers- ‘cut off’ [: Hittite kars-/karsiya- ‘cut off, mutilate,’ Greek kourā ‘cutting the hair,’ korsóō ‘shear,’ (inscriptional) kouron ‘cut wood,’ Tch. kärst- ‘cut off’ (P:945)]. This *kers- is an élargissement of *(s)ker- ‘cut’ (P:938-945). As to the semantic development VW suggests *‘cut off’ > *‘distinguish’ > ‘come to know’ and cogently points to Latin scīre ‘know’ from *sek- ‘cut’ [: Sanskrit chyáti ‘cuts off’]. To his equation we can add Hittite sakk-/sekk- ‘know,’ also from *sek-. Tocharian kärs- is the exact equivalent of Hittite kars-, though Hittite has preserved the older meaning, a meaning which is preserved in Tocharian in the derived kärst-, q.v. +See also kärsauca and, more distantly, kärst-. +

+ + +
+

+kärsauca +(n.) +‘one who knows’
+[kärsauca, -, kärsaucai//kärsaucañ, -, -] +ytārye sā śpālmeṃ | śaiṣṣe kär[s]aucaisa apākärtse yāmusa klyomña ‘this excellent noble way, made known by the world-knower’ (30a3/4), [kä]r[s]auca = BHS ājñātā (H-149.165a4 [Thomas, 1969:295]). +∎A nomen agentis formed from the subjunctive stem of kärs-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kärsk- +(vi.) +‘propel, i.e. shoot, throw, spread (by throwing)’
+Ps. I /kärsk^'ä/_e-/ [MPPart. kärskemane; Ger. kärṣṣalle*]; Pt.Ia /kärṣṣā-/ [A -, -, karṣṣa//]; PP /kekärṣṣu-/ +sumānṣeṃ warkensa Mālaṇḍi kärskemane ‘strewing the M. with sumāna-garlands’ (M-3a3/4), känte-okt sumāṃnṣeṃ warkensa kärṣalya ‘[it (= the Mālaṇḍika) is] to be strewn 108 times with sumāna-garlands’ (M-3a5); po warkṣältsa wäntalyi ite pännāte karṣṣa ‘with all [his] energy he stretched the bow fully and shot’ (109b6); sraukaṃ ṣ temeñce prere ramtä kekarṣṣu | nraine tänmasträ ‘and consequently he will die; [as quickly] as a shot arrow, he will be [re-]born in hell’ (14b4). +‣For the semantics we might compare Khotanese ah- which means both ‘shoot’ and ‘throw’ (cf. aha- ‘noose’ [i.e. ‘throwing weapon’]). If, beside the agent, there is only a patient, it is found in the accusative. If there is both a patient and a locative/dative, the latter appears in the accusative while the patient is in the perlative (a syntax analogous to that seen in Khotanese for ah- and in English for shoot). +∎Closely related to TchB kärsk- is A -krase in pärra-krase ‘distance of an arrow-shot.’ These Tocharian words must be related to Sanskrit kiráti ‘pour out, scatter, throw’ (< *kṛh_xé-) as Couvreur (1950:129; also VW:233) has seen. Whether they are further to be related to words for ‘spring,’ etc. (e.g. Greek skaírō) is more doubtful (cf. P:933-934; MA:507). However, the exact relationship of kärsk- and kiráti remains obscure. If we are to take the A -krase at face value, we would appear to have a putative PIE *kroso- from *kr-es-. If so, kärsk- would be, in Indo-European terms, *kṛs-sḱe/o-. It is also possible to see -krase (with VW) as a metathesized result of an earlier *karse, a late TchA nominal from *kärs- which would have been the expected A outcome of a PTch *kärsk-. Under this latter scenario PTch *kärsk- might reflect a putative PIE *kṛh_x-sḱe/o-. Much less likely is Hilmarsson's suggestion (H:93) that this words reflects a PIE *(s)kri-sḱe/o- ‘fly, move (in a non-linear way)’ with cognates in Lith. skriẽti ‘fly (around)’ and Latv. skrìet ‘fly.’ +

+ + +
+

+kärst- +(vt.) +‘cut off, cut down, terminate; tear; destroy utterly’ [lykaśke kärst- ‘chop [something] fine’]
+Ps. VI /kärs(t)nā-/ [A -, karsnat, karsnaṃ//; MP -, -, kärsnātär//; AImpf. // -, -, kärsnoyeṃ; MPPart. kärsnāmane]; Ko. V /krāstā- ~ kärstā-/ [A -, -, krāstaṃ// -, -, karstaṃ; MPOpt. karstoymar, -, karstoytär//; Inf. karstatsi; Ger. kärstālle]; Ipv. I /päkrāstā-/ [ASg. pkrāsta]; Pt. Ia /kärstā-/ [A kärstāwa, -, karsta//; MP -, -, kärstāte//]; PP /kärsto-/ +karsnaṃ pärmank ṣañ śāmnaṃts mäntaṃ pw akālkänta ‘it [scil. the life of men] cuts off the hope of its own followers and brings to naught desires’ (3b7), [ma]nt śāmn[aṃ]ts śaul tne kos śaiṃ ksa kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne kärsnātr attsaik postäṃ ‘so is the life of men; as long as one lives by the passing of days and months it is suddenly cut off later’ (3b5), sankantse ayāto nesaññe mā karsnatär ‘the proper situation of the community will not be terminated’ (DAM-507a11/12 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), kärsnāmane pannāk = BHS parikarttun upānaham (U-3a1); tumeṃ cwi soyetse śireṃ yepesa āśe kärstālya ‘then the head of the doll [is] to be cut off with a sharp knife’ (M-2a3); pkrāsta sklok ‘cut off doubt!’ (2b5); lykaśke kektseñ tāyä karst=arṣāklaṃtse ‘he chopped fine the body of the snake’ (42a6); kärstau rano stām nano wtentse tänma[strä] ‘even if the tree is cut down, it will be born again’ (11a6), kärstoṣ wastsi ṣek ausu ‘dressed always in torn clothing’ (32b4). + -- kärstor ‘± utter destruction’: /// kete no te kärst[o]r = BHS yasya tv ete samu-cchināḥ (H-149.112 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:493]); +
+kärstālyñe ‘cutting off’ (284b2). +∎TchA kärṣt- and B kärst- reflect PTch *kärst- from PIE *kers-T-, a derivative of *kers- ‘cut off’ [: Hittite kars-/karsiya- ‘cut off, mutilate,’ Cuneiform Luvian kars- ‘cut,’ Greek kourā ‘cutting the hair,’ korsóō ‘shear,’ (inscriptional) kouron ‘cut wood,’ TchAB kärs- ‘know’ (P:945)]. This *kers- is, in turn, an élargissement of *(s)ker- ‘cut’ (P:938-945). It is possible that in kärst- we have a generalization of an old *-d^(h)- present. In any case one should note that Tocharian kärs- ‘know’ preserves the original shape of *kers- but the derived kärst- preserves the original meaning (Schrader/Nehring, 1917:426, VW:207-208, with differing details). +See also enkärstātte, -kärstau, and kärstauca and, more distantly, kärs-. +

+ + +
+

+-kärstau +(n.) +‘interruption’
+[only in the compound snai-kärstau ‘without interruption, uninterruptedly’] +weksa sr[a]kañce kwoytär-ne taṅsa snai-kärsto [sic] (85a1), snai-kärstau (587.a1). +∎A nomen actionis from kärst-, q.v. +See also kärstautstse. +

+ + +
+

+kärstauca +(n.) +‘one that cuts off or down’
+[kärstauca, -, -//] +teki ktsaitsñe srukalñe cmelñe ṣpä kärstaucā ra ‘as one who cuts off sickness, old-age, death and rebirth’ (30a6), pontäṃntso akalkänta kärstoca ‘a cutter off of the desires of all’ (295b3). +∎A nomen agentis based on the subjunctive stem of kärst-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kärstautstse* +(adj.) +‘± interrupted, stammering’
+[f: -, -, kärstautstsai//] +t[oṃ] w[e]ña Hetubā[like rekau]na kärstautstsai weśeññaisa ‘H. spoke these words with an interrupted [stammering? choked up?] voice’ (283a2). +∎An adjective in -tstse from kärstau, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+käl-¹ +(vi.) +‘endure, bear’
+Ps. VIII /käls^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kalṣäṃ// -, -, kalseṃ]; Ko. I /kel- ~ käl-/ [A kelu, -, -//; Inf. kaltsi]; Ipv. III /päkel-/ [Sg. pkel]; Pt. III /kel-/ [A -, kelasta, keltsa//] +te kalṣäṃ aräñc=aiśaumyepi ‘the heart of the wiseman endures it’ (227b2), kaklāyāṣṣäṃ [sic] läklene mā säk kälṣäṃ ‘having fallen into suffering, he does not good fortune’ (255a3); su ke ñem [lege: te-ñem] walo yāmṣate ñīśś erkatte mäkte ṣ teṃ kelu ‘this so-called king treated me badly and how will I endure it?’ (81a4), waimene kaltsi tne śasanne ‘difficult to bear in the law’ (44a6); pkel twe erkätñe ‘endure the bad treatment!’ (123b1); kelts=empelona läklenta ‘he bore terrible sufferings’ (220a1). +∎AB käl- reflect PTch *käl- from PIE *k^wel- ‘move’ (see discussion s.v. ²käl-). +See also ekalätte, kaläl, kälṣamo, and kälṣamñe and, more distantly, käl-² and kälts-. +

+ + +
+

+käl-² +(vt.) +‘lead, bring’ [NOUN epyac käl- (middle) ‘remember [something/ someone]’]
+G Ps. Xa /källāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, källāṣṣäṃ// -, -, källāskeṃ; MP -, -, källāstär//; APart. källāṣṣeñca; Ger. källāṣṣälle]; Ko. V /kālā- ~ kälā-/ [A -, kālat, kālaṃ//; MP kalamar, -, kalatär//; AOpt. kaloym, -, -//; MPOpt. -, -, kaloytär//; Inf. kalatsi; Ger. kalalle]; Ipv. I /päkālā- ~ päkälā-/ [ASg. pkāla, Pl. (p)kalas; MPSg. pkalar, Pl. pkalat]; Pt. Ia /śälā- ~ kälā-/ [A -, -, śala// -, -, śilāre; MP -, klātai, klāte// klāmte, -, klānte]; PP /kälo-/; +
+K Ipv. II /(pä)śālā-/ [Pl. (p)śālat]; Pt. II /śālā-/ [MP śālamai, -, -//] +källaskeñ-c säkw ‘they bring thee good fortune’ (588a2), ykāk ñiś kälāstär epyac poyśy añmālaṃṣke ‘then the Buddha remembers me sympathetically’ (22b8), tane cärkenta klāsträ ‘he brings garlands here’ (91b4), nauṣ cmela epiyacä källāsträ ‘he remembers earlier births’ (523b3), sak ecce källāṣṣeñca = BHS sukhāvaham (182a1); tusāksa ecce kälamār [sic] cau ñäke ‘therefore I will now bring it forward’ (PK-12J-b3 [Thomas, 1979:48]), alyekepi kaloym wat mīyäṣṣälyñe ‘or may I bring harm to another’ (S-3b1); cwim nai kalas ‘bring [it] to him!’ (107a10), ñiś epyac pkalat ‘remember me!’ (28a1); makte pācer walo cwi comp lakle śala ‘the father king himself brought this suffering to him’ (88b3), su ci klāte ñyātsene ‘he led thee into danger’ (93b1), mäkte käryo[rttañc] klānte lw[ā] kc[a] ‘as the merchants led some animal’ (24a6); ñiś yolaiññemeṃ tsälpāwa brahmalokäś tā_u ytāri śālamai ‘I was freed from evil and I led the way to the brahmaloka’ (19b7). + -- klormeṃ; +
+kalalñe, only attested in the derived adjective kalalñeṣṣe: [epi]yac kalalyñeṣe yakne ‘the manner of remembering’ (552a3). +∎AB käl- reflect PTch *käl-, probably from PIE *k^wel- [: Sanskrit cárati ~ calati ‘moves (intr.), wanders,’ (evidence of a set-root is provided by cáritum, caritá-, cīrṇá-, etc.), kárṣati ‘draws (to oneself), leads; plows,’ kṛṣáti ‘plows, travels over,’ Avestan čaraiti ‘moves (intr.); drives,’ Greek pélō ~ pélomai ‘come to exist, be’ (Cretan télomai ‘will be’), Homeric teléthō ‘be,’ poléō ‘go about (intr.); range over, haunt; turn over (the earth with a plow),’ pōléomai ‘come/ go frequently,’ Latin colere ‘cultivate, dwell in’ (< either *k^wel-e/o- or *k^wol-e/o-), Albanian sjell ‘bring’ (< *k^wele/o-), qell ‘delay, hold up, detain’ (< *k^woleye/o-, = Gk. poléō), kall ‘insert, put in,’ për-kul ‘bend, crook’ (< *-k^wḷneh_a- or *-k^wḷn(h_a)ye/o-), and nominal derivatives in Celtic, Germanic, and Balto-Slavic (P:639-640; MA:606-607)]. The TchB subjunctive, relegated from the present by the iterative-intensive *k^wḷse/o- (itself = Sanskrit kṛṣáti?), would exactly match Albanian kall ‘put in, insert,’ Both would reflect an o-grade present. The subjunctive of AB ²käl- ‘lead, bring,’ kālā- ~ kälā- would reflect the same formation, only with the addition of the subjunctive *-ā- (or do we have here traces of the set-variant of this root?). The present of ²käl-, källāsk- (< *k^wḷneh_a-sḱe/o-) matches Albanian -kul (< *k^wḷnh_a-e/o- or *k^wḷn(h_a)ye/o-) in përkul ‘bend, crook.’ The "causative" preterite to ²käl-, śālā-, though it is most probably an independent creation, matches Albanian solla (< *k^wēl-), the past of sjell. This etymology, at least for ²käl- goes back to Pedersen (1941:183). +
+Alternatively, and more traditionally, either ¹käl- or ²käl- or both might be from PIE *kel- ‘put into motion’ [: Sanskrit kāláyati/kaláyati ‘drives, carries,’ Greek (o)kéllō ‘drive a ship on land,’ kelēs ‘quick,’ Latin celer ‘id.,’ Gothic haldan ‘drive cattle to pasture,’ etc. (P:548)] (VW, 1941:25, 1976:199-200; H:61-62). +See also källāṣṣuki and more distantly käl-¹, and perhaps kalāk-. +

+ + +
+

+kälkañc +(n.) +‘collyrium in paste’
+[kälkañc, -, -//] +(354b1, W-5b1). +∎From BHS kalkāñjana-. +

+ + +
+

+käln- +(vi.) +‘resound’
+Ps. I /käln-/ [A // -, -, kalneṃ; AImpf. -, -, kalñi//]; Pt. III /kälnsā-/ [MP -, - kälnsāte//] +kalneṃ ploryaṃ tne pīyaṃ lwāsa ‘the ploryas resound and the animals sing’ (589a6), katkauñaisa kalñi śaiṣṣe ‘the world resounded with happiness’ (408a4); [ipre]rmeṃ kälnsāte ram no ‘as if having resounded from the sky’ (617a4). +∎AB käln- reflect PTch *klän- [sic]. The original order of resonant and vowel is assured by the derivative klena and by the failure of -ln- to assimilate to -ll-; the -l- and -n- came into contact only after the assimilation rule was no longer productive. This *klän- must reflect PIE *klun-, otherwise seen only in West Germanic in Old English hlynn ‘sound, noise, roaring stream,’ hlynan/hlynnian ‘resound,’ Old Saxon gihlun ‘din, uproar’ (Jacobsohn, 1934:212, Duchesne-Guillemian, 1941:143-4, VW:200, though details differ; cf. also P:550, with differing details; MA:534). +See also klena. +

+ + +
+

+kälp- +(vt.) +G ‘find, get, obtain, achieve’ [INF. + kälp- = ‘get to’]; K ‘± bestow’ [with accusative of thing and genitive of person]
+G Ps. IXa /kälpāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A kälpāskau, -, kälpāṣṣäṃ// -, -, kälpāskeṃ; AImpf. -, kälpāṣṣit, kälpāṣṣi//; MP -, -, kälpāstär// -, -, kälpāskentär; MPPart. kälpāskemane; Ger. kälpāṣṣälle]; Ko. VI /källā-/ [A kallau, kallat kallaṃ// -, -, kallaṃ; AOpt. källoym, -, källoy// -, -, källoyeṃ; Inf. källātsi; Ger. källālle]; Pt. Ia /kälpā-/ [A kälpāwa, -, kalpa//kälpām, -, kälpāre]; "Intensive" Pt. (Pt. VII) /kälpiyā-/ [A -, -, kälpiya//]; PP /kälpo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /kälpäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A kalpäskau, -, kalpäṣṣäṃ//] +su ce_u rilñemeṃ oko wrocce kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘from renouncing this he obtains a great result’ (8a2), kälpāṣṣäṃ = BHS vindati (18a6), śwāṃ-ne ynkauṃ kästwer mā=ñu kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘[if] they eat at him day and night, he doesn't achieve peace’ (33b1), yākṣi maiyya kälpāskeṃ kauseṃ wnolmeṃ māka ‘the yākṣas find strength and kill many beings’ (3a1), kälpāstär = BHS vidyate (U-18a4), wīna kälpāṣṣit ‘thou didst find pleasure’ (231a2); ente ṣ kallau tu lkātsi ‘and when will I get to see it [again]?’ (46a5=47b2); pañaktäññe pelaikne klyauṣtsi kälpāwa ‘I got to hear the Buddha's law’ (101a6), ṣesa wertsyaimpa kalpa perne su pärweṣṣe ‘together with [his] retinue he achieved the first rank’ (23a1/2); Puttewatte kercapai kälwiya ‘P. obtained a donkey’ (KLOST.37,50 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]); ostmeṃ lantsi preke ñi yapoy yesäṃ kalpäskau [the king speaking to his ministers] ‘[it is] time [for me] to leave the house [= become a monk] and I bestow on you my kingdom’ (372b4), /// [waipe]cc[e]nta kälpäṣṣäṃ (132a5). + -- kälpormeṃ; +
+kälporsa: śwātsi yoktsi klporsa [sic] ‘by obtaining food and drink’ (31a3); +
+källālñe ‘obtaining, achieving’: laṃtuññe īke källālñe ‘the achievement of a royal station’ (128a4), ṣärpalñe källālñe = BHS deśapratilaṃbhāḥ (181a4), källālñe = BHS lābham (U-7b4). +∎AB kälp- reflect PTch *kälp- but extra-Tocharian connections are less certain. Peterson (1933:18, also VW:201) would relate the Tocharian word to Sanskrit kálpate ‘is well ordered, well managed, fitting; succeeds’ but the meaning seems very distant. Surely this Sanskrit set is to be related to Avestan karpa- ‘ritus,’ karpan- ‘non-Zoroastrian priest’ from a Proto-Indo-Iranian *kar/lp- ‘be/make fit or proper.’ It is semantically and morpho-logically tempting to equate the Tocharian words with Sanskrit grah- (present gṛbhṇā-/gṛhṇā-) ‘seize, lay hold of, capture, steal, take; undertake.’ However the Sanskrit word is securely tied to a PIE etymon with -r- (e.g. English grab, grasp). +
+Watkins (1969b:1522) isolates a PIE *kelp- ‘hold, grasp’ for some nominal words in Germanic (Old English hälftre ‘halter’ [< *half-tra-], Old English helma ‘rudder, tiller’ [< *helf-man-], hielfe ‘handle’ [cf. P:926; MA:595]). Such a root would provide a suitable semantic and phonological basis for kälp-. In addition one might wish to see in kälp- a relative of klep- ‘± touch with the fingers, investigate,’ q.v. or even kälyp- ‘steal,’ q.v. It is possible, I think, to see in these latter words (including Watkins' Germanic collection) a PIE *klep- ‘± lay hand to’ that appears in Tocharian as (1) kälp- (with a putative PIE present *kḷpneh_a-, perhaps modeled on the semantically similar *g^hṛb^hneh_a-), as (2) (in malam partem) kälyp- ‘steal’ (also in Greek, Latin, and Germanic), as (3) klep-, originally an intensive with a present *klēpe/o- (cf. Latin cēdere), and (4) in Germanic, with guṇa from the zero-grade in Old English hielfe, etc. The first and third meanings are to a certain extent paralleled in Old English by grīpan ‘grasp’ (< *g^hreibe/o-) and grōpian ‘feel for, grope’ (< *g^hroibeh_aye/o-). For this etymology, see also Adams, 1989b. +See also enkalpatte, kälpauca, and kallau and possibly kälyp- and klep-. +

+ + +
+

+kälpaṣṣuki* +(n.) +‘± stealer, robber’
+[-, -, kälpaṣṣukiṃ//] +[se ṣamāne ... ytā]ri yaṃ [] waṣik kälpasṣṣukiṃ yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ käryorccempa wat ‘if a monk travels a road with a waṣik kälpasṣṣukiṃ, a yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ, or someone concerned with commerce’ (330a5). +∎A nomen agentis from the otherwise unattested present stem of kälyp-, q.v. (Winter, 1961, Schaefer, 1997:168). The exact significance of kälpaṣṣuki is uncertain. It is glossed by the Old Uyghur ywitquji but the verbal root ywit- (-quji is transparently the agentive suffix) is attested as such only here and does not appear to match any verbal root in any other Turkish language. In a parallel text (H-149.X.3) the phrase waṣik kälpaṣṣuki is matched by lykaṃ ‘thieves.’ +See More discussion s.v. waṣik. +

+ + +
+

+kälpauca +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘one who obtains’
+[kälpauca, -, -//] +mant sw apāṣṣätte kälpauca śwātsi yoktsi alanmeṃ ‘so he [who has] not practiced moral behavior [thinks to be] one who gets food and drink from somewhere’ (31a2), kwri tane śwātsintse śle yoktsintse klpauca [sic] tākaṃ wnolme ‘if a being would be one who obtains food and drink’ (31a7). +∎A nomen agentis from kälp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kälm- +(vt.) +‘permit, allow, accord’ (?)
+Ps.IX /kälmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kälmaṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. II /śälm^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, śalmäṃ//]; Pt. Ia /kälmā-/ [A -, -, kalma//] +[pe]rne=rhanteññe kṣaya-jñāṃmpa ṣe lkāsi ram no kälmaṣṣäṃ-ne pyutkäskeṃ-ne krentau[na] ‘this one with extinction-knowledge permits him to see, as it were, Arhat-worth and virtues manifest themselves in him’ or ‘this one permits him to see, as it were, arhat-worth together with extinction-knowledge and virtues manifest themselves in him’ (591a5); teṃ yiknesa weweñu mā tākaṃ wac[e] kaum aksaṣṣuki mā śilmaṃ-ne ārwe[r ya]maṣṣamtte mā wat mā yalle ste ‘[if] he [scil. the patron's messenger] has not spoken in this way and the messenger not allowed him [scil. the monk] [to stay] a second day [, saying]: ‘we have made ourselves ready, or not,’ [he is] not to go’ (331b3/4); toṃ wi wäntarwa tne kalma ksa kalloy ‘he permitted these two things [that] someone might achieve [them]’ (82b5). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, VW:200 (a denominative verb from an [unattested] *ḱlumen- from *ḱleu- ‘hear’). +

+ + +
+

+källāṣṣuki +(n.) +only attested in epyac källāṣṣuki ‘one who remembers’
+[källāṣṣuki, -, -//] +epyaś [sic] klāṣṣuki [sic] mā nesan-ne /// (330b5). +∎A nomen agentis from käl-², q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kälṣamo +(adj.) +‘enduring’
+[kälṣamo, -, -//] +kälṣmo tākaṃ [su pä]rk[ā]wänta yänmāṣṣäṃ ‘[if] he is enduring, he will achieve benefits’ (258b4). +∎An adjectival derivative from the present-stem of käl-¹, q.v. +See kälṣamñe*. +

+ + +
+

+kälṣamñe* +(n.) +‘± endurance’
+[kälṣamñe, -, kälṣamñe//] +k[e] käl[ṣa]mñesa ot ra nemce ṣārkate (235a2), [pap]āṣaurñe [sic] kälṣamñe tsiromñe ompolskoññe [sic] (586a7). + -- kälṣamñeṣṣe ‘prtng to endurance’: kälṣämñeṣṣe kaṣarä wästsi preke ‘the time [is] to wear the kaṣar of endurance’ (281b3), kälṣamñeṣṣe niṣke su prākre tākoy-ñ ‘may I always be strong [like] the jewel of endurance!’ (S-5b1). +∎An abstract noun derived from kälṣamo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kälskālyñe +See kläskālyñe. +

+ + +
+

+käl(t)s-¹ +(vt.) +‘± press, pour’
+Ps. VI /kälsnā-/ [Ger. kälsnālle]; Ko. V /klātsā-/ [A -, klātsat, -//]; Pt. Ia /kältsā-/ [MP -, -, kältsāte// -, -, kältsānte]; PP /kältso-/ +mītä śak ṣkäs traunta eneṃ kälsnālle ‘16 trau of honey [is] to be poured in’ (497a4); /// warporṣe mai klātsāt ‘thou wilt perhaps suppress the sensations’ (91a2); iprer kältsāte ‘the air was oppressive’ (H-149.69b3 [H:67]), [kä]ltsānt[e] cew preke ‘they were oppressed in that time’ (15a1); kaṃnte kältsau ṣalype ‘an oil pressed/sieved 100 [times]’ (P-1a2). +‣Compare TchA [puk marmas] kakältsāṃ trik tkanā [klā] ‘it made all her veins pour forth, she swooned, and fell to the earth’ (A-77-b2). The TchB subjunctive singular klātsā- may be analogical for *kāltsā-. If so, the original cluster may have been *-ls- rather than *-lts-. The analysis of this and the following verb owes much to Hilmarsson (H:67-68) +∎AB käl(t)s- reflect PTch *käl(t)s- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Hilmarsson suggests (H:68) the possibility of a deriving this verb from PIE *ḱel- ‘lean,’ noting particularly ON hella ‘pour.’ +

+ + +
+

+käl(t)s-² +(vt.) +‘goad, drive’
+Ps. II /kälts^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kalṣtär// -, -, kältsentär] +[ṣa]ñ k[e]wän śakātaisa kalṣtär-me ṣñār wepeṃś aśan-me | tuyknesa ktsaitsñe srūka[lñe] śaul kältsenträ wnolmentso ṣañ kalymiś aken-ne ‘with a stick he goads his own cattle and leads them to [their] pastures; similarly old-age and death drive the life of beings and lead it in their own direction’ (3a3/4). +∎B käl(t)s- reflects PTch *käl(t)s- perhaps from PIE *keld^h- [: Gothic haldan ‘drive cattle to pasture,’ English hold, etc. (P:548; MA:170)], itself an élargissement of *kel- ‘put into motion’ (H:68). The Tocharian kälts- may result from the generalization of a ye/o-present, e.g. *kḷd^h-ye/o-. Not with VW (1969:487, 1976:201-202) from *k^wel- ‘turn.’ +

+ + +
+

+käly- ~ stäm- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘stand (intr.), stay, stand still; last’ [NOUN-ne käly- (metaphorically) ‘± obey’]; K ‘establish, fix [in place]’
+G Ps. II /käly^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kaltär// -, -, klentär; MPImpf. -, -, kälyitär//; APart. klyeñca; MPPart. klyemane; Ger. klyelle]; Ko. V /stāmā- ~ stämā-/ [A -, -, stāmaṃ//; AOpt. stamoym, -, stamoy//-, -, stamoṃ; Inf. stamatsi]; Pt. Ia /ścämā-/ [A ś(i)māwa, ś(i)māsta, śama/-, -, stāmais/-, -, ś(i)māre]; PP /stämo-/; +
+K Ps/Ko. IXb /stämäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, stamäṣṣäṃ//; Ger. stamäṣṣälle]; Ipv. II /päścämā-/ [Sg. päścama; Pl. pśīmar]; Pt. I /ṣṭāmā-/ [A ṣtamāwa, -, -//]; Pt. IV /stämäṣṣā-/ [A -, stämaṣṣatai, -//] +ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne [sic] ‘[if] sensual desires arise in the mind of a monk and his shame-place [scil. penis] stands tall’ (334a3/4), anaiśai kwri pa[pā]ṣṣoṣ walke klyentar [sic] k[o]kalyi ‘if they [are] careful, wagons last a long time’ (5b2), [kly]enträ = BHS tiṣṭhanti (lla3), alyek-ypoyṣi brāhmaṇi parna klyenträ säsweṃ lkātsi ñäskenträ ‘the foreign brahmans are standing [around] and they are seeking to see the lord’ (81b4/5), yaitkorne klyeñca ñiś ‘I [am] standing in the commandment’ (205b4), ṣl[e]ntse tärnene kaun ra pälkā klyemāne ‘the sun rose as if standing on the crown of the mountain’ (H-149.50a7 [Thomas, 1968b:209, fn. 3]), klyelle = BHS stheyaṃ (251a3); [walo eṣe] retkempa | stāmaṃ pratiṃne mā ṣ n_änok śanmäṃ ciś retke ‘the king with [his] army will stay [here] and the army will not go against thee again’ (22a2), /// śaul stāmaṃ-ñ /// ‘[if] my life lasts’ (63a4), stamatsiś = BHS sthitaye (537b3); [samudtä]rne śimāwa mā śitkāwa ‘I stood in the sea and did not proceed’ (425a2), krent käṣṣintsa menkitse yolaiñesa mā ṣṣe nta aṣkār śmāwa ‘lacking a good teacher, I never stood back from evil’ (TEB-64-09), intsau kātsaś śeśśanmusa śama=nepre poyśintse ‘having bound the block of wood to [her] stomach, she stood before the Buddha’ (18b8), stāmais ... ñäktene ‘the two gods stood’ (338b7); ṣalesa stmau ‘standing on the mountain’ (12a7), pelaiknene stmau prākre ‘standing firmly in the law’ (S-6a2); meleṃtsa yaipwa yenteṃ korne stamṣäṃ ... kauc ykuwa yenten stamṣäṃ tarnen=eṃṣke ‘it fixes the winds [which] have entered through the nose in the throat...’ (41b5/6); /// täṅwaññe jaṃbudvipmeṃ tsrāwa wätkāwa hai kka ṣṭamāwa-ne ṣpä tarya nau[miyenta] (PK-NS-31a3 [Pinault, 1991b]); pkai-kṣātreṃntsa yarke yāmormeṃ rīne stämäṣṣatai-ne ‘having done honor with chowrie and parasol, thou didst establish him in the city’ (Qumtura 34-d4 [Pinault, 1993-94:176]). + -- stamalñe ‘continuation, duration, abiding, persistence’: [śaulantse kekt]señäntse [stama]lñe ‘the continuation of life and body’ (176a1), stamalñe = BHS sthitiḥ (182a5); +
+stamalñetstse* ‘± lasting, persisting’: onol[mi] /// stamalñecci ‘lasting beings’ (175b4); +
+stamalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to continuation’: [pe]laiknetse kreñcepi stamalñeṣṣe akālksa ‘in the wish for the continuation of good law’ (S-2a2). +
+śceścamor ‘?’ (211b3); +
+śceścamormeṃ (päst śceścamormeṃ ‘with the exception of’): [nraiṣṣana po yke]nta päst śeśśamormeṃ ‘with the exception of all hellish places’ (64b2); +
+stamäṣṣälñe ‘establishment’: stamäṣälñe = BHS sthāna- (41a7). +∎AB käly- reflect PTch *käly- from PIE *kel(h₁)- ‘raise up’ [: Latin ante-, ex-, prae-cellō ‘surpass’ (< *kel-d-), Lithuanian kélti/keliù ‘raise up,’ kìlti/kylù ‘raise oneself up,’ and nominal derivatives (with the meaning ‘hill,’ etc.) in Greek, Celtic, Germanic, Slavic, (P:544; MA:352)]. Greek keléontes (< *kelh₁yont-) ‘upright pieces of a loom’ secures the laryngeal as *h₁. Particularly striking would seem to be the Baltic-Tocharian correspondence since Tocharian käly- would appear to reflect a putative PIE *kḷh₁-ye/o- which is similar to Lithuanian keliù (< *kelh₁-ye/o-) and kìlti (< *kḷh₁-). Not with VW (1941:33, 1976:202) from PIE *ḱlei- ‘lean.’ Nor with Normier (1980: 257; also H:69-70) is kaltär to be taken as from *kälyätär from *klyäyätär (which would surely have given *klyitär) from PIE *ḱlei-e-. +
+TchA ṣtäm- and B stäm- reflect PTch *stäm-, probably from PIE *stem-, a byform of *steh₂- ‘stand’ in the same way *g^wem- is to *g^weh_a- ‘go’ (Winter, 1962a:27; for the many reflexes of *steh₂-, see P:1004ff and s.v. śänm-). Meillet in Hoernle 1916:161 assumed a nominal origin for stäm- as in Sanskrit sthāman-. VW (463-464) suggests instead a connection with *ste(m)b^h- ‘establish, set up; step; stop, check’ (P:1011-1012). Whatever its exact source, the verb is phonologically parallel to ṣäm-/lyäm- ‘sit.’ The initial palatalization of the causative preterite is the same sort of analogical palatalization seen in the caustative of stāl-. +See also klyemo, stām, stemye, śmoñña, and śänm-. +

+ + +
+

+kälyp- +(vt.) +‘steal’
+Ps. IXa /kälpäsk^ä/_e-/ (see kälpaṣṣuki); Ko. IV /kälypī-/ [AOpt. -, -, kalypi// -, -, kälypiyeṃ; Inf. kälypītsi]; Pt. Ia /kälypā-/ [A -, -, kälypiya (K-T)//]; "Intensive" Pt. (Pt. VII) /kälypiyā-/ [A kälpyāwa, -, -//]; PP /kekalypo-/ +ka ma [lege: kā mā] wes ra [kä]lypiyem ‘why shouldn't we also steal?’ (404b2); kälpyawa (PK-14a5) (K); [ce kleśanma]ṣṣeṃ lykäts kekalypoṣ ṣäp naumy=aiśämñeṣṣe pälskomeṃ āratsi ‘this jewel of wisdom, stolen by kleśa-thieves to stop [him] from thought’ (282a1). +∎The TchB subjunctive reflects PIE *klépye/o- ‘steal,’ exactly as in Greek kléptō ‘steal’ [: Latin clepō ‘steal,’ Gothic hlifan ‘id.,’ Old Prussian au-klipts ‘concealed,’ and possibly, if with s-mobile, Lithuanian slepiù ‘hide’ (with reduction of *skl- to sl-) (P:604; MA:595)] (VW, 1960:39, 1976:203). More distantly this word is related to both klep- ‘± touch with the fingers, investigate’ and kälp- ‘get, obtain,’ qq.v. (Adams, 1989b). +See also kälpaṣṣuki and klepe. +

+ + +
+

+kälymiśśeṃ +‘?’
+(PK-13-Eb4 [H:70]). +‣One wonders if this might be a miswriting or a misreading of kälymiṣṣeṃ, a derivative of the next entry. +

+ + +
+

+kälymiye +(nf.) +‘direction’ [po kälymintsa = ‘± everywhere’]
+[kälymiye, -, kalymi//-, kälymīṃts, kälymīṃ] +tuyknesa ktsaitsñe srūka[lñe] śaul kältsenträ wnolmentso ṣañ kalymiś aken-ne ‘by such means old-age and death goad the life of men and lead it in its own direction’ (3a3/4), lyuwa ṣ parkāsaṃ walo śtwāra kälymintsa ‘and the king sent the proclamation in four directions’ (21b2), [ysā-yok]ñana swañcaiyno po kälymintsa cärkāsta ‘thou hast released everywhere gold-like rays’ (221a5), kälymiṃts tskelñe = BHS diśodāghā (543a7), watkaṣṣi pi pañäkte niṣīdaṃ ñremeṃ kälymi raso tsamtsi ‘may the Buddha order the sitting-mat to increase a span [in] the direction of the fringe’ (H-149.X.4a5/6 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). + -- kälymiññe* ‘± bordering, regional’ (?) [if a calque on BHS deśīya-, so Sieg and Siegling, 1949:110] or ‘foreign’ (?) [if a calque of BHS diśya-]: lāntäṃ kälymiññeṃ ‘bordering/regional/foreign kings’ (46a6); +
+kälymi-kälymi ‘region by region’: [aknā]tsaññe orkämñe kälym-kälym[i] m[yā]yta [lege: m[yā]yasta] ‘the darkness of ignorance thou hast brought down region by region’ (221a3); +
+somo-kälymi ‘having a single goal or direction’: somo-kälymī = BHS ekāntaṃ (U-18a3). +∎A kälyme, B kälymiye, and the Kroraina Prakrit borrowing from "TchC" kilme reflect PTch *kälymiye from PIE *ḱli-men- (nt.) [: Greek klíma ‘inclination, region, geographical zone’ with the addition of the PTch suffix *-iye (Normier, 1980:259, Adams, 1988d; more generally VW, 1941:33, 1976:202-3; H:70-71). +More at kläskalyñe. See also ekalymi. +

+ + +
+

+-kälywe +See ñem-kälywe. +

+ + +
+

+käṣṣī +(nm.) +‘teacher, master’
+[käṣṣī, käṣṣīntse, käṣṣīṃ//käṣṣīnta, käṣṣīntaṃts, - (voc.: käṣṣīnta)] +käṣṣinta karāre toṃ ślokanma ‘the teachers gathered these ślokas’ (11b1), pintwāt yeyo käṣṣi poyśi ‘the omniscient teacher went alms-begging’ (19b7). + -- käṣṣiññe ‘prtng to a teacher or master’: käṣṣīññe yäknesa asānne lyāmate-me ‘he sat himself down on the throne in the manner of a teacher’ (81b6); +
+käṣṣīṣṣe ‘id.’ (A-3a2). +∎AB käṣṣī both reflect borrowings from Khotanese kṣīa- ‘master, teacher’ (Bailey, 1961:13, VW:626). +

+ + +
+

+käṣṣu +See kaṣṣu. +

+ + +
+

+käs- +(intr./middle) +‘come to extinction, be extinguished, go out’; (tr./active) ‘quench, extinguish’
+Ps. II /kes^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, keṣäṃ//; MP -, -, keṣtär// -, -, kesentär; APart. keṣeñca; MPPart. kesemane; Ger. keṣalle]; Ko. III /käse-/ [MP ksemar, -, -// -, -, ksentär; Inf. ksetsi; Ger. kselle]; Trans. Inf. /kästsi/; Pt. III /kes(sā)-/ [A -, -, kesasta//; MP // -, -, kessante]; PP /kekesu-/ +keṣäṃ palsko ‘he extinguishes the spirit’ (278a3), yñakteṃ tänmasträ ramer ṣpä keṣtär ‘he is reborn among the gods and comes quickly to extinction’ (K-11a3), ente skeyi kesenträ ‘when efforts are extinguished’ (206a2); mā walke nke ñiś ksemar tu postäṃ onmiṃ tākaṃ-me ‘[it will] not [be] long and I will be extinguished and to you will be regret’ (29a8), eṃṣke kselyai preścyaiścä ‘unto the time of extinction’ (228b4); toṃ pwāra kastsiś ‘to quench these fires’ (566a1); [nrai]ṣṣana kesasta pwāra ‘thou hast extinguished the fires of hell’ (243b3); yänmoy īke kesoṣ [lege: kekesoṣ] ‘may I achieve the extinguished place!’ [= BHS adhigacchet padaṃ śāntam] (H-149-ADD.124b6 [Thomas, 1969:298]). + -- kekesor* ‘extinguishing’: cok kekesorne ‘in the extinguishing of the lamp’ (588b8); +
+kselñe ‘extinction, suppression, disappearance’: läklentse kse[lñe]ne ynūca ytā[rye] ‘the road going toward the extinction of suffering’ (155a2), yāmorntatsa [sic] kselñe = BHS saṃ skāranirodhaḥ (157a3), kseññe [sic] = BHS nirvāpaṇaṃ (195a6), y[ä]nmāṣṣäṃ ks[elñe] = BHS prāpnoti nirvṛtim (H-149.236b2 [Thomas, 1969:298]); +
+kselläññeṣṣe ‘prtng to extinction’ (S-6a6). +∎AB käs- reflect PTch *käs- from PIE *(z)g^wes- ‘extinguish’ [: Sanskrit jásate/jásyati ‘be exhausted,’ jāsáyati ‘exhaust, cause to expire,’ Greek sbénnūmi ‘extinguish,’ Lithuanian gèsti ‘to cease to burn, go out,’ gesìnti ‘to put out, extinguish,’ OCS ugasiti ‘extinguish,’ and Gothic qist (f.) (<*g^wes-ti-) ‘destruction’ (P:479-480; MA:188)] (Smith, 1910:10, VW:210). More particularly AB käs- reflects a PIE *g^w_es- and the B present a putative PIE o-grade intensive *g^wose/o-. Melchert points out (p.c.) that Hittite and Palaic contain a verb kist- ‘be extinguished.’ The Tocharian, Anatolian, and satem forms could also be subsumed under a PIE lemma *ges-, though that leaves Greek and Germanic unaccounted for. There seems to be no way to bring together all of these together. If the Tocharian word belongs with the Anatolian group, it would be possible, though not semantically necessary, to group them all with Tocharian kest ‘hunger,’ Hittite kast- ‘id.’ +See also possibly kest. +

+ + +
+

+käsk- +(vt.) +‘scatter apart, scatter to destruction’ (often with violence), ‘confuse [the mind]’
+Ps. XII /käskäññ^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, käskaṃ//; MP -, -, käskantär//; MPImp. -, -, käskaññitär//]; Ko. V /kāskā- ~ käskā-/ [A -, kāskat, kāskaṃ//; MP -, -, käskātär//; MPOpt. -, -, käskoytär]; Ipv. I /päkäskā-/ [MPSg. pkaskar]; Pt. Ia /käskā-/ [MP // -, -, käskānte]; PP /käsko-/ +prentse yente käskan-me ‘in an instant the wind scatters them’ (46a7=47b6), wäräñcäṣṣa mäṣce ra käskäntär ‘like a handful of sand they are scattered’ (142a3), laursa eñcuwaññe tarne räskre tsopyeṃne käskaññītär-ne waiptār āśce po lykaśke ‘with an iron peg they roughly penetrated his skull; his head was scattered wide apart, all in little pieces’ (22b5); cwi palsko käskāträ waiptār ‘his spirit will be scattered all about’ (9b8); pkaskar-ñ waiptār (246b3); ṣem kautāte koklentse waiptār pwenta käskānte ‘the axle of the wagon broke and the spokes were scattered all about’ (5a2); käskauw[a] = BHS vikṣiptāni (H-149.152b6 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32: 485]). + -- käskalläññe ‘± scattering’ (PK6.A-a3). +∎TchB käsk- reflects PTch *käsk- (as if) from PIE *g^whṇsḱe/o-, a derivative of *g^when- ‘strike, slay’ [: Sanskrit hánti ‘strikes’ (pl. ghnánti), Avestan jainti ‘id.,’ Hittite kwenzi ‘kills’ (pl. kwnanzi), Armenian ganem ‘id.,’ Greek theínō ‘kill,’ Lithuanian geniù ‘strike,’ Albanian gjanj ‘hunt’ (= theínō and geniù), Old Irish gonim ‘wound, slay,’ Lithuanian genù ‘drive [cattle],’ OCS ženǫ ‘id.,’ etc. (P:491-493; MA:548)] (Melchert, 1977:108). The PIE *-n- disappears before *-s- precisely as in mäsk-, q.v. Not with VW (210; also H:104-105) related to Tocharian kät- ‘scatter’ (*kät-sk- would give **kätk-, not käsk-). +See käskor*. +

+ + +
+

+käskor* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘idle talk, gossip’
+[-, -, käskor//] +[mā mäkci]ya käskor weskau mā alyek watkäskau kä[skor weṃtsi mā käskor] weṣeñcaimpa ... mäskemar ‘I do not retail any gossip, nor do I order [anyone] to tell gossip, nor am I with one who tells gossip’ (596a5/6). + -- käskor-weṣṣeñca* ‘gossiper’ (596a6). +∎A derivative of käsk-. +

+ + +
+

+käst(u)wer +(adv.) +‘by night, at night’
+[re]kauna plātäṃne inkauṃ wīna kallaṃ kästwer ṣpanene ‘by day he will find pleasure in words and speeches, by night in sleep’ (27a4), mäkte yelyitse ku tallāw tākaṃ śwāṃ-ne ynkauṃ kästwer yelyi pilenta ... śwāṃ-ne ynkauṃ kästwer mā=ñu kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘as a worm-ridden dog will be suffering [if] the worms eat at him day and night ... [if] they eat at him day and night, he doesn't achieve peace’ (33a8/b1), kästu[wer] (232b4). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (1968: 66-7, 1976:210) suggests a PIE *ḱḷst- (cf. OHG hulst ‘covering’) + -wer. However *ḱel- ‘hide, cover’ is otherwise unknown in Tocharian and a reduction of *-lstw- to -stw- is unexpected and unparalleled. One might see in *käst- a PIE *g^w_es-ti- (cf. Gothic qist [f.] ‘destruction’), a verbal abstract from *g^wes- ‘extinguish’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:158, see käs-) but the generalization of the zero-grade in the root would be somewhat surprising. +

+ + +
+

+kiṃśuk +(n.) +‘Butea frondosa Koen. ex Roxb.’ or ‘Butea monosperma (Lam.) Kuntze’
+[kiṃśuk, -, -//] +(257a1). +∎From BHS kiṃśuka-. +

+ + +
+

+kiñcelle (~ käñcelle) +(n.) +‘filament of Nelumbium speciosum Willd. [= Nelumbo nucifera Gaertn.]’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kiñcelle, -, -//] +(W-1b3). +∎From BHS kiñjala-. +

+ + +
+

+kintarik* +(n.) +a meter of unknown rhythm
+[-, -, kintarik//] +(91b6). +

+ + +
+

+kinnare +(n.) +‘celestial musician’
+[kinnare, -, -//-, -, kinnareṃ] +(109b6). + -- kinnarñe* ‘prtng to a celestial musician’ (109b5). +∎From BHS kiṃnara-. +

+ + +
+

+Kimña* +(n.) +‘Kimña’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Kimñantse, -//] +(466a2). +

+ + +
+

+kiratikta +(n.) +‘Agathotes chirata’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kiratikta, -, -//] +(P-3a3). +∎From BHS kirātatikta-. +

+ + +
+

+kirot +(n.) +‘the bulb of a small variety of the Nymphea’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kirot (~ kirok ~ kiros), -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS giloḍya-. +

+ + +
+

+kiśore +(n.) +‘youth, lad’
+[kiśore, -, -//] +(20a5). +∎From BHS kiśora-. +

+ + +
+

+ku +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘dog’
+[ku, -, kweṃ//] +mäkte yelyitse ku tallāw tākaṃ śwāṃ-ne ... yelyi pilenta ‘as a worm-ridden dog might be suffering [as] worms eat his wounds’ (33a8/b1), kū = BHS śvāṇa in the calendrical cycle (549a5), kweṃ-pikulne ‘in the dog year’ (H.150.44b2 [Pinault, 1987:182]). +∎AB ku reflect PTch *ku from PIE *ḱúwō (nom. sg.) ‘dog’ [: Sanskrit ś(u)vā, Armenian šun (with unexpected š-), Greek kúōn, Latin canis, Old Irish cú, Gothic hunds, Lithuanian šuõ, Hittite kuwas (acc. kuwanan) (Melchert, 1989[90]), Hieroglyphic Luvian zuwana/i- (Melchert, 1987:202), all ‘dog’ (cf. P:632-633: MA:168)] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927, VW:238-239). The Tocharian nominative singular ku is the regular reflex of *ḱúwōn with PIE *ō becoming PTch *ū in a final syllable when in the neighborhood of a *-w- (cf. the masc. nom. sg. of the preterite participles in -u from PIE *-wōs). Krause and Thomas give in their grammar, but not in their lexicon, the TchA acc. sg. form koṃ (apparently attested, in a very fragmentary context, at 360a9). B kweṃ is perfectly regular for PIE *ḱuwonṃ (cf. Sanskrit śvānam). That A koṃ is too seems likely. +See also kuñiye. +

+ + +
+

+ku- +(vi./vt.) +G (vi.) ‘offer a libation’; (vt.) ‘pour’; K ‘make pour’ (?)
+G Ps. VIII /kus^'ä/_e-]/ [A -, -, kuṣäṃ//; Ger. kuṣalle]; Ko. I /kew- ~ ku-/ [A kewu, -, -//; MP -, -, kutär//]; PT. III /kew(sā)-/ [A kewwa, -, -//]; +
+K Pt. II /kyāuwā-/ [A // -, -, kyauware] +///meṃ wär śār kuṣän-ne ‘he pours the water from the ... all over him’ (PK-12J-b2 [Thomas, 1979:9]), ṣalype ... śār kuṣalle ‘the salve [is] to be poured all over’ (P-1a2); ṣ śār kutär ‘and it is poured all over’ (324b2); /// [oro]cceṃ tewpeṃ keṃ po yatamai /// [Vaiśā]line k_uce kewwa dakṣiṇākeṃtse] /// ‘I was able to ... the whole earth and great mines ... I have offered a libation to the worthy one’ (H-149.171b4/5); śār kyauwar^./// (116.12). + -- kuwermeṃ (?): /// śarkuwermeṃ = śār kuwermeṃ (617b5); +
+kekuwer ‘± libation’: [te]lki yāmor kekuwer ‘sacrifice or libation’ (307b3); +
+kuwälñe ‘± libation’: mā āyor mā ra telki yamalñe [mā] kwälñe [sic] nesäṃ ‘there is no gift, no sacrifice and no libation’ (28a6). +∎AB ku- reflect PTch *ku- from PIE *ǵ^heu- ‘pour’ [: Sanskrit juhóti ‘pours in the fire; sacrifices,’ Greek khéō ‘pour,’ and somewhat more distantly, Latin fundō ‘pour,’ Gothic giutan ‘pour,’ etc. (P:447-448; MA:448)] (Couvreur, 1947:78, VW:239). +See also possibly kus- and kutk-. +

+ + +
+

+kuk-¹ +(vi./vt.) +‘call out, shout; entreat, seek out’
+Ps. II /śauk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, śauśäṃ//; MP śaukemar, -, -//]; Ko. I /keuk-* ~ kuk-/ [AOpt. -, -, kuśi//] +karuṇīk=añmāla[ṣka ś]auko-c kwām[a]r-c akālksa ‘O loving and merciful one! I entreat thee and call to thee with a wish!’ (TEB-64-07), tu-yäknes[a] kwäsnāträ snai-kärsto [] kwātär-ne taṅsa śauśaṃ-ne ‘in that fashion he cries out without inter-ruption; he calls to him and shouts to him’ (88b1), añmālaṣke palwaṃ ... ṣpä ñem śauśäṃ ‘he wails piteously and calls [his] name’ (89b5); rṣākeṃts lānte kreñcepi tsänkā-ñ palsko klāwässi lālyi wrotsai ~ k_uśi-ñ pele rekisa /// ‘the spirit of the good king of seers arose to me to announce the great effort; may the law seek me out! With a word ...’ (S-8b2 [Lévi, 1933]). + -- śauśalñe ‘begging aloud, vocally asking for alms’: śoś[alñe] = BHS āhvaya (170a6). +∎The present is from PIE *kēuk- with lengthened grade; the subjunctive is a PIE o-grade formation. The relationship between present śeuk- and subjunctive keuk-/kuk- is identical to that between cek- ‘touch’ and its subjunctive tek-/täk-. The root is *keuk- [: Lithuanian kaũkti ‘to howl, yell, roar’] or *ḱeuk- [: Lithuanian šaũkti ‘call softly, name,’ Khotanese sūch- ‘name,’ Sanskrit śúka ‘parrot’ (cf. P:536; MA:90)] (Fraenkel, 1932:227, VW:471-2, Adams, 1993b:38). +See also kauke. +

+ + +
+

+kuk-² +(vt.) +‘± bow down’ (?)
+Ps. /kukäsk^'ä/_e-/ (see abstract); PP /śeśśuko-/ +k_uce wäntaresa kekamoṣ takās ytarintse ś[e]śśukoṣ /// ‘by whatever matter you have come, by the road bowed down’ [?] (82a1). + -- kukäṣṣälyñe ‘± depression’ (?): mentsi kukäṣälyñe pälskontse ra trikalyñe ‘grief and depression [are] like confusion of the spirit’ (284a6), /// [la]kle [ami]śkñe kū[kä]ṣl[ñ]e (569b2 [restored after Winter, 1984:213]). +∎If the meaning has been correctly identified (cf. Winter, 1984), PTch *kuk- may possibly be connected with the widespread Germanic etymon *huk- seen in Middle Low German hūken ‘sit in a bent position, squat,’ hōken ‘bend, squat, bear on the back, peddle,’ Old Norse hokra ‘crouch,’ hukla ~ hukra ‘crouch together from the cold,’ húks ‘cower, squat, crouch,’ New High German (dialectal) hüchen ~ hücheln ‘limp’ (cf. De Vries, 1962:247, P:588). The original meaning would have been ‘± be bent (over)’ and the attested Tocharian verb a derived causative. +

+ + +
+

+kuke* +(n.[dual f.]) +‘heel’ (?)
+[/kukene, -, -/] +[kärsto]ṣ w[aṣ]tsi [sic] ausu samp wawākauwa kuke[ne] ‘dressed in torn clothing, [his] heels [?] spread apart’ (92b2). +∎TchA kukäṃ (dual) and B kukene probably reflect a PTch dual *kukäne or *kukene. Further connections are unknown (see VW:628 for the suggestion of an implausible borrowing from Uralic) and even the meaning is hardly secured (the one attestation in TchA [212b7] is even less informative than the single attestation in TchB). +

+ + +
+

+kucaññe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[kucaññe, -, -//] +k_ucaññe iṣcake = BHS tokharika (Vorob'ev-Desjatovskij, 1958). +‣The meaning and form of this phrase has been much debated (see K. T. Schmidt, 194:209-210, for a convenient summary). It has been universally assumed that the tokharika of the MS must be a mistake for tokharikā (a mistake very much in keeping with others in the MS) and thus should mean ‘Tocharian woman’ (or, more specifically, given the phonological shape of kucaññe, ‘Kuchean woman’) but iṣcake is not a known word for ‘woman’ and, as an apparently masculine noun, an unlikely candidate to be a heretofore unknown word for ‘woman.’ Thus, if iṣcake does not mean woman, it is at least doubtful that kucaññe means either ‘Tocharian’ or ‘Kuchean’ (the latter being normally kuśiññe in any case). Attested in Sanskrit is tukkhara with the meaning ‘a kind of horse’ and in Georgian t‘oxarig-i (and variants) with the meaning ‘ambling horse’ (Bailey, 1985:126-127) and it may be that our tokharika was intended to refer to some sort of horse, but, if so, the meaning of kucaññe is more obscure than ever. +

+ + +
+

+k_ucatāk* +(n.) +‘tower, balcony’
+[-, -, k_ucatāk//] +k_ucatākmeṃ ṣañ [ñ]em ette ṣallāte ‘she threw herself down from the tower’ (109b2). +∎Related to TchA kuccatāk but further connections are unknown (see VW:240 for a suggestion). +

+ + +
+

+k_ucalle +See kuts-. +

+ + +
+

+k_uce +(a) (interrogative pronoun); (b) (relative pronoun) [in both (a) and (b) the accusative of k_use, q.v.]; (c) (conj.) +(a) ‘whom, what, which’; (b) ‘whom, which, what’; (c) ‘because; (so) that’
+(a) k_uce klautkesa aiśalyi ‘by what behavior [are they] to be recognized?’ (K-7a4), k_ucesa akalkäntats yatalyñe mäsketrä ‘by which is the taming of desires?’ (552a3/4). +
+(b) [a]kṣā-me k_uce wnolmi yamantär ‘he told them what beings are to do’ (21a2), k_uce cai makci enkoṣṣeṃ pilkonta ‘these insights which they themselves have had’ (28b6), cwīññe se śāp ste k_ucesa ṣp swesi mā sūwaṃ ‘this curse of thine is [that] by which the rains do not rain’ (350b4), k_uce no kleśanma nanautauwa = BHS api tu kleśāḥ kṣīnāḥ (524b1), ce [= k_uce] peri nesem tu päs aiskem-ne ... ce [= k_uce] cowai carka tu mā pälskanaṃ ‘what we owe, we will give to him; what he has robbed, he does not think about’ (DAM-507a9 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), k_uce te mant wñāwa tu nke weñau anaiśai ‘what I have so said, that will I now speak clearly’ (K-2a5). +
+(c) k_uce ñiś ṣuk-kauntsa wsāwa wno[lmeṃts s]n[ai] meṃtsñe k_uce ṣp pudñäkte [ṣuk-kauṃ kakāwa sānkämpa ] ce krent yāmorsa källoym perne poyś[iññe] ‘because I gave to the beings for a week without ill-will and because I invited the Buddha with the retinue for a week, through this good deed may I obtain the rank of a Buddha’ (22a8/b1), twe ñī yaitkorsa maṃt pyām k_uce kaṣake Puttamitre parra yaṃ ‘do thou thus by my command that the Kashgarian P. goes through’ (LP-1a1/3), k_uce ñiś śtwer s_äsūwa ypoymeṃ lyautwa snai tränko ‘since I have driven [my] four blameless sons from the country’ (PK-13E-a2 [Couvreur, 1954c:89]). + -- k_uceṣäp (no) ‘let alone’: [po śaiṣṣe twe] täṅwät k_uce ṣäp k_use ci täṅwäṃ ‘thou lovest the whole world, let alone [those] who love thee’ (245b2). +
+k_uce tu ‘that is to say’: k_uce tu pwārntse yarke yamaṣṣeñcaṃ ṣeyeṃ tu y[pa]rwe tuwak kottarcce pelaik[n]e āksi añmassu kakā-me ‘rief er sie in dem Wunsch, weil sie da Verehrer des Feuers waren, daraufhin das eben derselben Familie angehörige Gesetz vorzutragen’ (108b9 [Thomas, 1957:75]), k_uce tu = BHS yad tad (202a1), k_ute [sic] nno ṣpä kärtse weṣṣeñcantse = BHS prāg eva hitavaktuś ca (251a4), k_uce tu = BHS yad uta (547a3). +
+k_uce-yäknesa ‘in whatever way’: k_uceknesa ket ra [kartse yāmṣa]t[e] śakk[e]ññe rṣāke ‘in whatever way, for whomever, the śākya-seer did good’ (30b2). +See k_use. +

+ + +
+

+kuñi-mot +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘wine’
+[kuñi-mot, -, kuñi-mot//] +pippāl kuñi-mot eṣe mā śwālle aukṣu kuñi-mot mā śwālle ‘pepper together with wine [is] not to be eaten; aged wine [is] not to be eaten’ (ST-b1), kuñī-motsa kālko yamaṣalle ‘a paste with wine [is] to be made’ (W-22a3). + -- kuñi-motäṣṣe ‘prtng to wine’ (W-20a4). +∎A compound of kuñi + mot, the latter meaning ‘alcoholic drink,’ q.v. Kuñi may be a borrowing from Khotanese (vel sim.) gūräṇa- ‘prtng to grapes,’ a derivative of gūra- ‘grape’ (cf. Bailey, 1979:87). The loss of Khotanese -r- is paralleled by TchA pāśiṃ ‘treasure’ from Khotanese pārgyiñi- ‘treasury, treasure-room’ (VW:636). At bottom then kuñi-mot means ‘grape-alcohol.’ +See also mot. +

+ + +
+

+kuñiye +(adj.) +‘prtng to a dog, canine’
+[kuñiye, -, -//] +swāṃññe weṃṣṣiye kränkañe weṃṣṣiye kuñiye weṃṣṣiye ‘pig excrement, chicken excrement and dog excrement’ (P-1b3). +∎An adjectival derivative of ku, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kuñcit (~ kwäñcit) +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sesame’
+[kuñcit, kuñcitäntse, kuñcit//] +kwäñcit yarm ‘the measure of a [whole] sesame seed’ (41b4), kuñcit wawāltsau ‘ground sesame’ (P-1a1), mlutku kuñcitä ‘id.’ (W-38b4). + -- kuñcitäṣṣe ‘prtng to sesame’ (27a8, P-1a6, W passim). +∎A borrowing, like TchA kuñcit, from Khotanese kuṃjsata-. +

+ + +
+

+kut- +See kuts-. +

+ + +
+

+k_utameṃ +(interrogative pronoun) +‘where’
+naumikkane lkāṣn eśnesa k_utameṃ källoym waipecce ‘he looks with glittering eyes[, thinking]: where might I get possessions?’ (33b1/2), k_utameṃ tākoy emparkre yṣūwa[r]kañe po wnolmeṃts ‘where might be widespread enjoyment for all beings?’ (PK-AS16.3a3 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎If like the other derivatives of the PIE interrogative/relative *k^wu-, this word is enclitic in TchB and thus represents as underlying /kutāmeṃ/, we may have a putative PIE *k^wutōd, an old ablative (cf. the discussion s.v. mäkte) + -meṃ, the regular TchB ablative ending. In *k^wutōd the final *-d is lost regularly (and early) and the -meṃ is added before final -ō becomes PTch *-e (Adams, 1988c:19). +See further s.v. k_use. +

+ + +
+

+kutumñcik +(n.) +‘Leucas linifolia Spreng.’ or ‘Leucas lavandulaefolia Ress.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kutumñcik, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS kutumbika-. +

+ + +
+

+kutk- +(vt.) +‘± give substance to, cast in a mold’
+G Ps. VII /kuttänk-/ [MPPart. kuttänkmane]; Pt. Ia /śutkā-/ [A // śutkām, -, -]; PP /śutko-/: śutkau (K-T). +
+K PP /śeśutku-/: śeśutku (K-T). +kutänkmane särwecaṃ ṣäñ yāmorsa cmelane ‘filling out the forms of existence by one's own deed[s] in [one's] births’ (229a2); po śutkām sarwecäṃ ‘we filled out all the forms of existence’ (45a6). +∎AB kutk- reflect PTch *kutk- (cf. A arthaśśäl kutko ñom kärsnāl ‘the name [is] to be known, filled out with meaning’). If the meaning is substantially correct, probably with Melchert (1977:125) from *ǵ^hud-sḱe/o- ‘cast into a mold’ from *ǵ^heud- ‘pour’ [: Latin fundō ‘pour,’ Gothic giutan ‘id.,’ and, more distantly, TchB ku- ‘pour,’ Sanskrit juhóti ‘throw in the fire, sacrifice,’ Greek khéō ‘pour’ (P:447-448)]. Not, with VW (247) related to Latin cūdere ‘strike, forge.’ +

+ + +
+

+kuttipaśaṃ* +(n.) +‘(body of a) plough’ (??)
+[-, -, kuttipaśaṃ//] +naitwe kärkāllene släppoṣ kuttipaśaṃ wat parra pānnaṃ ... po duṣkär ‘[if] he reaches for a plough-share (?) [which has] slipped into the mud or for the kuttipaśaṃ [= BHS kūṭa- ‘body of the plough’?] ... all [is] a sin’ (331a1). +‣This sentence is in the midst of a commentary on the sin of farming: ‘a monk should not plow or have someone plow for him, etc.’ It seems likely that naitwe means ‘plough-share’ and thus kuttipaśaṃ may be the equivalent of BHS kūṭa-, one of whose meanings is ‘body of a plough’ (the plough absent both pole and plough-share). It might also be a virtual *kūṭa-pāśa- ‘contemptible body of a plow’ or the like. +

+ + +
+

+Kunacaṃttre +(n.) +‘Guṇacandra’ (PN in caravan pass)
+[Kunacaṃttre, -, -//] +(LP-107a1). +

+ + +
+

+Kunacaṃttrakau +(n.) +‘Guṇacandrakau’ (PN in caravan passes)
+[Kunacaṃttrakau, -, -//] +(LP-8a1). +

+ + +
+

+kuntark +(n.) +‘Saccharum munja Roxb.’ [aka Saccharum sara] (a medical ingredient)
+[kuntark, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS gundraka-. +

+ + +
+

+kuntäṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to jasmine’ (Jasminum multiflorum Andr.)
+kuntäṣṣe = BHS kunda- (H-ADD.149.79b4 [Couvreur, 1966:178]). +∎An adjective derived from an (unattested) *kunt ‘jasmine,’ itself a borrowing from BHS kunda-. +

+ + +
+

+kuntiśke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘little pot’
+[kuntiśke, -, -//] +cewä śerkwameṃ wente yamaṣle cew wentesa ñuwe kuntiśke taṣale ‘from this cord a covering [is] to be made; over this covering a new little pot [is] to be put’ (M-3b2). +∎The diminutive of an unattested (in TchB) *kunti. The latter is, however, attested in A as kunti ‘pot.’ A borrowing from BHS kuṇḍī- (VW:628). +

+ + +
+

+kuntsaññe* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, kuntsaññe//] +///täṣṣe iprerne rmer ka plyewsa 68 kuntsaññe mā ṣ campy e[rtsi] (386a4). +‣Perhaps a byform of kwäntsaññe (see s.v. kwaṃts). +

+ + +
+

+K_umārapuṇye* +(n.) +‘Kumārapuṇya’ (PN in grafitto)
+[-, -, K_umārapuṇye//] +(G-Su-39). +

+ + +
+

+Kumpante* +(n.) +‘Kumpante’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Kumpanti, -//] +(490a-III-5). +

+ + +
+

+kumbhāṃṇḍe* +(n.) +member of a particular class of demons
+[//kumbhāṇḍi, -, -] +(333b9). +∎From BHS kumbhāṇḍa-. +

+ + +
+

+kurār-lūwo +(n.) +‘osprey’
+[kurār-lūwo, -, -//] +[kä]lymiṃ sportoträ pācer cwimp [ku]rār-lūwo tu- yäknes[a] kwäsnāträ snai-kärsto ‘his father turns [in all] directions; like a kurār-animal he cries out without interruption’ (88b1). +∎A compound of kurār (< BHS kurara-) + lūwo ‘animal,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kuruci +(n.) +‘Tinospora cordifolia (Willd.) Miers’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kuruci (~ guruci), -, -//] +(P-3a3, Y-24). +∎From BHS guḍūci-. +

+ + +
+

+kurkamäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to saffron’ (Crocus sativa Linn.)
+[m: //kurkamäṣṣi, -, -] +(W passim). +∎An adjective derived from an unattested *kurkam from BHS kunkuma-. +

+ + +
+

+kurkal +(n.) +‘bdellium’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kurkal (~ kurkala), -, -//] +(M-3a5). +∎From BHS gulgulu-. +

+ + +
+

+kurp- +(vt.) +‘be concerned with, be concerned to’
+Ps. III /kurpe-/ [Ger. kurpelle] +lānte spaktāṃ ypoye pauśye añmants=ekñi kurpelle ‘he [scil. the house-holder] must be concerned with service to the king, national taxes, and his own possessions’ (33a6), kwri yarke peti ṣey-me kurpelle ‘if they had been concerned with honor and flattery’ (33a7). +∎TchB kurp- reflects PTch *kurp-, probably from PIE *kw(e)rp- ‘turn oneself’ [: Gothic hwaírban ‘walk about,’ Old English hweorfan ‘turn, wander about,’ Old Norse horfa (< *kurp-) ‘turn, think, look,’ Greek karpós ‘wrist’ (with *-w- lost be dissimilation from the following bilabial) (P:631; MA:607)] (Lane, 1960:78). The Tocharian verb represents a putative PIE *kurp-(h₁)-ó- ‘ urn oneself toward’ (cf. particularly the Proto-Germanic *hurfai- from PIE *kurp-(h₁)-oi). VW rejects this connection (245), wrongly I think, in favor of a connection with Belorussian žurba ‘concern.’ The semantics are favorable but the Belorussian word is isolated, so far as I know, in Slavic and is thus unlikely to represent something of Proto-Indo-European age. The connection, if any, of TchB kurp- with A śur- ‘be concerned’ is unclear. +

+ + +
+

+kul* +(n.) +‘bell’
+[-, kulantse, -//] +śak pärkāwänta kulantse āyorsa poyśintse patne ‘the ten benefits [that accrue] through the gift of a bell to the Buddha's stupa’ (K-9b4). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (240-241) suggests an improbable derivation from *ǵ^heu- ‘pour’ as ‘the thing poured or founded.’ It seems phonologically impossible to attach this word to the semantically attractive käln- ‘resound’ but perhaps it is a cognate of Old Norse hvellr (< *k^wel-wo-). The Tocharian word might reflect *k^wḷwo-m or the like (cf. H:189-190). +

+ + +
+

+kul- +See kwäl-. +

+ + +
+

+kulaṃkule +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘one who has attained a state of being born in several families before final liberation’
+[kulaṃkule, -, -//] +ñikciye kulaṃkule ste = BHS devakulaṃkula (198b5). +∎From BHS kulaṃkula-. +

+ + +
+

+k_ulenkarñeñ +‘?’
+/// ̇k ̇s ramt ekamäcceṃ k_ulenkarñeñ k ̇/// (Dd-6.2.2). +‣A variant of klenkarññaññe, q.v. (H:190)? +

+ + +
+

+Kulkera +(n.) +‘Kulkera’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Kulkera, -, -//] +(490a-I-1). +

+ + +
+

+kulyp- +(vt.) +‘desire’ [NOUN-ś kulyp- ‘desire for’]
+Ps. III /kulype-/ [Ger. kulypelle] +/// kulypelle ce cmelne sak katkauña ṣp ‘[whose] desire in this life [is] good fortune and joy’ (14a4), yarpo kwälypelle ket tākaṃ ‘to whom there is service to be desired’ (K-10a6). + -- kulypelñe ‘desire’ only attested in the derived adjective kulypelñeṣṣe: kwälypelñeṣṣe ṣp om palsko yāmträ toṃ krentaunaś ‘and [if] he makes the thought of desire for virtues’ (23a5/6). +∎AB kulyp- reflect PTch *kulyp- or *kwlyäp- from PIE *k^wlep-, otherwise seen only in Avestan xrap- ‘id.’ (Čop, 1958:50-1; VW:242, though there is no need to consider B kulyp- to be a borrowing from TchA; MA:158; H:191). +

+ + +
+

+kūwo +‘?’
+///ṣäp no kūwo s ̇ṃ no (133b1). +‣A form of kū ‘dog’? +

+ + +
+

+kuva +(n.) +‘?’
+/// eñ[c]are kuva (584a7). +‣A form of kū ‘dog’? +

+ + +
+

+k_uwele* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, k_uwele//] +///kärkalle k_uwelesa /// ‘over the dark pond’ (?) (319b1). +∎Probably a byform of kwele, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kuśanār +(distributive adverb) +‘by kuśanes’
+[list of ingredients] +kuśanār ‘[these ingredients measured out] by kuśanes' worth’ (W-19a6). +∎A derivative of k_uśāne, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kuśal +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘well, healthy, prosperous’
+[kuśal, -, kuśal//] +(S-6a4). +∎From BHS kuśala-. +

+ + +
+

+kuśalapākṣ* +(n.) +‘the side of virtue’
+[-, -, kuśalapākṣ//] +sankantse ayāto nesaññe ste k_uśalapākṣne rittemttär ‘the situation of the community is proper and we are attached to good behavior’ (DAM-507a4 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎From BHS kuśalapakṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+kuśalamūl* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘root of merit’
+[-, kuśalamūl(ä)ntse, -//-, kuśalamūl(ä)ntaṃts, kuśalamūl(ä)nta] +(41a4). + -- kuśalamūläṣṣe ‘pertaining to the kuśalamūla’ (624a3). +∎From BHS kuśalamūla-. +

+ + +
+

+kuśalasāsrap +(n.) +‘well-being of that which attaches one to the world’ (?)
+(173b4). +∎From BHS *kuśala-sāsrava- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+k_uśāne* +(n.) +a coin and measure of weight
+[-, -, k_uśāne//k_uśāni, -, k_uśāneṃ] +Suwarti kauko käryām k_uśāneṃtsa 700 ‘we bought S.'s kauko for 700 k_uśānes’ (490a-II-2), kṣuranma kāṃtsāre k_uśāneṃtsa 250 ‘they filed the knives for 250 k_uśānes’ (490a-III-5), [ingredients] toṃ wyār kuśaneṃ prapuntarik kuśane ‘[ingredients] these each 2 k., prapuntarik 1 k.’ (W-28a4/5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kuśiññe +(adj.) +‘belonging to Kuca’
+[m: kuśiññe, -, kuśiññe//] +k_uśiññ=oroccepi lānte /// ‘of the great king of Kuca’ (G-Su-36.1). +∎An adjective of provenance from Kuśi, the Tocharian B form of Kuca. +See also the discussion s.v. kucaññe. +

+ + +
+

+kuṣ ̇eṣe +(adj.) +‘?’
+///t ṣäñ āñmtsa kuṣ ̇eṣe yokäṃ [] (118a3). +

+ + +
+

+kuṣṭa +(n.) +‘Costus speciosus (Koen.) Sm.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kuṣṭa, -, -//] +(W-23b3). +∎From BHS kuṣṭha-. +See also kaṣṣu. +

+ + +
+

+kus- +(vi.) +‘± shoot upward, gush’ (?)
+Ps. VI /kusnā-/ +/// [i]prerne kusnonträ /// (387.4). +∎If the meaning is correct, from PIE *ǵ^heus- ‘spray, gush’ [: Middle Irish guss ‘power, anger’ (< *ǵ^hustu-), Old Norse gjósa ‘gush, spout, erupt,’ geysa ‘propel, heat up,’ English gush, etc. (P:448)]. If so, see also ku- ‘pour.’ It is also possible (H:195) that this is a form of kwäs- ‘mourn, lament,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+k_usär +‘?’
+/// k_usär sā snai keśo īte (H-150.104a4 [H:195]). +‣Formally identical to TchA k_usär*, also a hapax of unknown meaning, occurring in the locative, at A-378a2: tseṃ śākwis kusraṃ tmaśśäl tāskmāṃ tñi śālyi pā[ci] ‘in the k_usär of the blue hair, thy left and right are comparable to it.’ +

+ + +
+

+k_use +(a) (interrogative pronoun); (b) (relative pronoun) +(a) ‘who, whoever, no matter who; (b) the one who, those who’ (nom.)
+(a) śrauddhauñe k_use ste ‘what is faith?’ (23a5), k_use [pi] ksa wesäñ kekamor orocce lant śarsäṣṣi ‘who [has] come to us that he might know the great king?’ (81b3), k_use no sū yāmor kakraupau mā no yāmu ‘what deed is accumulated but [still] not done?’ (K-3b5), k_use cau nāktsi arcanträ = BHS kas taṃninditum arhati (U-18b1); +
+(b) [mā] sū nesäṃ k_use onwaññe tākoy ‘there is no one who is immortal’ (2a2), /// ywārśkāññi pik_ulameṃ k_use rano maiwe[ño] ‘... those of middle years and also [those] who are young’ (2a5), kly[omo] lkālñesa k_use kekenu tākaṃ tne | sū su kälpāṣṣäṃ śaiṣṣene tne yṣwarkaññe ‘the noble one, who is provided with insight, he alone achieves in the world here comfort’ (14a7), k_use ñi yesñ=āksaṣle k_use wat no enäṣlyi tu pw=ākṣā[wa-me] ‘what I [was to] have announced to you, or what [was] to be instructed, all of it I taught you’ (27b7), k_use parśi-ne wrattsai weṣṣi sū ñiś po-[aiśeñca nesau] ‘whoever [= no matter who] should ask him, he should reply [to him]: I am the all-knowing’ (28b5), k_use pelaikneṣṣe krent ce_u yerkwantai ...ṣpyārta ‘whoever turned the good wheel of righteousness’ [k_use = BHS yaḥ] (30b3), sklok ket ra nai mā tsänkau ste k_use tne cmīträ mā srūko[y] ‘there must have arisen no doubt to him who would be born here and not die’ (46b2), [sä]swe k_use tākaṃ māñye mäsketrä ‘whoever would be lord, finds himself a servant’ (128b6), k_use = BHS evaṃ (201a5), k[_us]e cek wärñai = BHS yat kiṃcit (H-149.47b6 [Couvreur, 1966:162]). +‣Though masculine singular in form, k_use/k_uce are used with all genders and both numbers--the same pattern that is to be found in its TchA interrogative (kus/kuc) and relative (kusne/kucne) counterparts, save for the existence of a nominative plural relative k_ucene. The relative pronouns are characteristically used correlatively with the demonstrative sū, just as mäkte ... mant ‘as ... so’ and kos ... tot ‘as much ... so much.’ +∎TchA interrogative kus (acc. kuc) and the relative kusne/kucne (all relative pronouns in TchA have the particle -ne added to them--cf. B nai) and B interrogative-relative k_use/k_uce reflect PTch *kuse/kuce (which were either enclitic or stressed, counter to the norm, on the final syllable). PTch *kusé is (as if) from PIE *k^wusó (Meillet, 1914:18, VW:246, MA:456, cf. also Normier, 1980:256), a form to be seen also in Albanian kush ‘who’ (both interrogative and relative). The parallelism with Albanian makes *k^wuso a more likely antecedent of PTch *kuse than the phonologically equally possible *k^wi(s)so (favored by Hilmarsson, 1987, H:196-197). The accusative *kuce reflects a putative PIE *k^wutóm; the palatalization of the PTch *kuce is analogical, as it is in other masculine pronouns, after the distribution of palatalized and non-palatalized stem-final consonants in adjectives, e.g. trite/trice ‘third’ (see Adams, 1988c: 122). The *-so/-to- is the regular demonstrative reinforcing the original interrogative/relative. (Tocharian is like most Indo-European groups in conflating interrogative and relative pronouns--there is no trace of the relative pronoun *yo- seen in Greek, Indo-Iranian, Balto- Slavic, or Celtic). One should compare, within TchB itself, the "pleonastic" k_use su as well as the typologically similar formations in Greek hóstis (< *yos k^wis), Latin quisquis, and Hittite kuis kuis (both < *k^wis k^wis). See also P:647-648. In Indo-European terms the correlative pair k_use ... sū would have been *k^wu-so ... so-u [: mäkte ... mant ‘as ... so’ < *men-k^wu-tō ... men-tō-u or kos ... tot ‘as much, many, long ... so much, many, long’ < *k^wot-s ... *tot-u or *k^weh_awot-s ... teh_awot-u]. In each case, both terms of the correlation are strengthened by particles. In the case of the relative pronoun it is *so/to- or *-s while for the anaphoric demonstrative it is *u. +See also k_uce, ket(e), k_utameṃ, kā, kos, kwri, mäkte, mäksū, katu, and ksa/kca. +

+ + +
+

+kuts- +(vt.) +‘± accuse, revile’ (?) or ‘± turn one's attention to’ (?)
+Ps. II /kuts^'ä/_e-]/ [Ger. k_ucalle]; Ko. V (?) /kutsā-/ or II (?) /kuts^'ä/_e-/ [A kutsau, -, -//] +/// pyāmtsar calle [if for k_ucalle] walke lyat (606a1), kkaṣṭa k_ucalle star-ñ ‘misfortune/evil is to be reviled by me’ or ‘misfortune/evil is to be attended to by me’ (?) (606a4), calle ṣ wesäṃ miṣenta lauk[e] tarkam enkalñe ‘but for us [there is] an revulsion with the fields [of worldly activity]; we will leave passion far away’ or ‘but for us [there is] an attending to our fields [of monastic activity] ...’ (?) (PK-AS-16.2-a4 (Pinault, 1989); c[ā]ne mā ait - - kutsau-ś ‘[if] thou dost not give [me] the money ... I will accuse thee’ or ‘.... I will attend to thee’ (?) (495a4). +‣This is a very problematic entry in at least two ways: (1) it is not clear that all the forms collected here even belong to the same verb; (2) if they do belong together, it is not clear what the root-shape is (kuts- or kut-). With regard to the first, it is not necessary that calle belong with the other two or, even more specifically, that k_ucalle and kutsau belong together. With regard to the second one would like to know if the present should be morphologically divided as kut-s^'ä/_e- or kuts-^'ä/_e- and, if the latter, whether -c- can be the palatalized equivalent of -ts- (as it certainly can of -t-). +∎If we have kuts- ‘revile, accuse,’ then it is presumably borrowed from BHS kuts-; if it is kut- ‘tend to,’ the we presumably (with H:206-207) have PIE *k^(w)eit- [: OCS čьtǫ ‘count, read, take account of,’ Sanskrit cétati ‘pays attention to’]. +

+ + +
+

+kutspaneṃ +‘?’
+///kutspaneṃ po trai /// (303c). +‣It is not certain that an entire word is present here. +

+ + +
+

+kuhākäññe* +(n.) +‘deception, trickery’
+[-, -, kuhākaññe//] +snai kuhākäṃñe snai tarśauna ‘without trickery or deception’ (558b1/2). +∎An abstract in -ññe derived from an unattested *kuhāk ‘deceptive, tricky’ from BHS kuhaka-. +

+ + +
+

+ke +(particle) +an intensifier?
+[nanā]korsa Satyake ke nigranthets soy päst [wasa] ‘by reproach did Satyaka, the son of the Nirgranthas, give [it] back’ [i.e. he was shamed into doing so] (20a6), su ke ñem walo yāmṣate ñīśś erkatte mäkte ṣ teṃ kelu (81a4). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also perhaps k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+ke_u* +(n.) +‘cow’
+[//-, -, kewäṃ] +[ṣa]ñ k[e]wän śakātaisa kalṣtär-me ṣñār wepeṃś aśan-me ‘he goads his own cattle with a stick and leads them to their own pastures’ (3a3), kewä[n] ṣäṃsemane al[y]enkänts ‘counting the cattle of others’ [= BHS gāḥ saṃgaṇayan pareṣām] (305b8), [a]lyaik no kraupnanträ śānta kewaṃ [sic] śaitsisa ‘others, however, herd sheep and cattle for a living’ (H-149-ADD.28a5 [Thomas, 1954:756]). + -- ke_u-pyapyo* a kind of flowering plant, perhaps ‘dandelion’ because of its abundant milky sap [H:115]: ke_u-pyapyantse welki eñcuwañe keṃtse te ṣeme yarm ‘the petals of a dandelion [?] and iron-rust, each the same measure’ (W-32b2/3). +∎TchA (acc. sg.) ko (nom. pl. kowi, acc. pl. kos) and B ke_u reflect Ptch *kew- from PIE *g^wou- ‘cow’ [: Sanskrit gáuḥ (m./f.) ‘cow,’ Avestan gauš (m/f), Armenian kov, Greek boûs (m/f) (Doric bôs), Latin bōs (m/f), Old Irish bó (f.), OHG chuo (f.), Old English cū (f.), Latvian gùovs, all ‘cow’ (P:482-483), also Hieroglyphic Luvian wawa-, Lycian wawa- ~ uwa-, ‘cow’] (Schrader/Nehring, 1929:255, VW:226, MA:134). The PIE paradigm would appear to have been nom. sg. *g^wōus, acc. sg. g^wōm (with regular reduction of *-oum to *-ōm), gen. *g^wou(o)s, nom. pl. *g^wowes, acc. pl. *g^wō(m)s, etc. Tocharian, insofar as we can tell, has generalized the underlying stem *g^wou-. +See also kewiye and kau_urṣe. +

+ + +
+

+kekamor +See käm-. +

+ + +
+

+kekuwer +See ku-. +

+ + +
+

+keklyauṣor +See klyaus-. +

+ + +
+

+kektseñe +(nf.) +‘body’
+[kektseñe, kektseñäntse, kektseñ//kektseñi, -, kektseñäṃ] +taik[n]esāk ra kektseñi kätsai[tsäññe yänmāskeṃ] ‘just so do bodies achieve old-age’ [kektseñi = BHS śarīram] (5a8), somo somo klokaśne ltū wlaṃśke yok tañ kektsentsa ‘a soft hair [has] emerged in each and every pore on thy body’ (74a3), kektseñ = BHS kāya- (197b3), alyekepi kektsenne = BHS paraśraye (545b4), su no orotse kektsentsa ‘he [is] large of body’ (H-149.X.4a5 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]), kek[ts]e[ñ] = BHS deha- (PK-NS-306/305a4 [Couvreur, 1970:177]). + -- kektseñäṣṣe ‘prtng to the body’: po kektseñiṣṣe [sic] krāmarsa ‘with all bodily weight’ (332.1b). +∎TchA kapśañi and B kektseñe are obviously related but the exact preform is unclear. The attested shapes would appear to reflect PTch *kepts'eñyā- (with the underlying stem extended by *-yā-) and *kekts'eñän- (with the underlying stem extended by *-'än-) respectively. Either an original sequence *kek- has been dissimilated in TchA to *kep- or an original sequence *kep- has been assimilated to *kek- in TchB. The situation with regard to extra-Tocharian connections is confused too. VW (1965b:502, 1976: 187-188) and Anreiter (1987b:95-100) assume a connection with Sanskrit cakṣaṇa- ‘aspect, appearance, form’ [: kāśate ‘appear, shine,’ cáṣte ‘see, perceive’], ultimately from PIE *k^weḱ- ‘appear; see; show’ (P:638-639). The Tocharian forms would be (as if) from PIE *k^woḱson-, giving PTch *keksen-. The development of *-ks- to -kts- is irregular. In any case, cakṣaṇa itself presupposes a putative PIE *k^weḱsen-. The Sanskrit and Tocharian words must be independent formations. If we start from a verbal abstract *k^woḱti- ‘appearance,’ such a form thematized, would give *k^woḱtyo- and then, if extended by an n-stem (see Adams, 1988d), we would have *k^woḱtye-en-, whence PTch *kekts'en-. We may also relate the Tocharian words to Old Irish cucht ‘color, outward appearance’ and Old Norse háttr ‘way, fashion’ (cf. Pedersen, 1925:29). Pedersen reconstructs a PIE *koktu- which, whether we connect Tocharian or not, is probably to be taken as *koḱtu- or *ḱoḱtu- from *k^woḱtu- by distant dissimilation of *k^w ... u or assimilation of *k^w ..ḱ or both. Hilmarsson (1986a:186) notes with favor a comparison suggested by Toporov whereby our Tocharian words are to be related with Lithuanian kaktà ‘forehead’ and kaktenà ‘skin of the forehead; part of helmet covering the forehead; hilltop’ but the semantics seem unconvincing (particularly when we include the clearly cognate Latvian kakts or kakat ‘corner, nook’). If the PTch shape was *kepts'en- instead of *kekts'en-, we might start from *kopto- ‘that which is cut off’ (i.e. ‘trunk [of the body]’) from *kop- ‘cut’ (cf. kepece ‘± hem’). With *-yo- replacing *-o- in an expected fashion we would have *koptyo- which, extended by an n-stem, would give *koptye-en- or PTch *kepts'en-. For another suggestion see H:124-126. +

+ + +
+

+keñinta* +(n.pl.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, keñinta] +///rne kācer [lege: tkācer] keñintane lāmaṃ-ne kliye trāppaṃ ṣamānentsaśār kl[āyaṃ] (325a2). +‣This word is often taken as the plural of keni ‘knee,’ q.v. (indeed it is glossed as such in Uyghur in this text) but if it is to be translated as ‘[if] the daughter is sitting on his/her knees and the woman trips over a monk’ the plural rather than dual would be unique. Winter (1962b:119) suggests the possibility of ‘skirts’ vel sim. here. +See also keni. +

+ + +
+

+keñiye +(adj.) +‘of a country, land’
+[m: keñiye, -, -//] +śaumo kañiye [lege: keñiye] rine śem ‘a land man came to city’ (592a5). +∎A derivative of keṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ket ~ kete +(pronoun) +‘whose, to whom, for whom’ [genitive of k_use]
+ket ait yoktsi sāṃtk=onwaññe pelaiykneṣṣe lyaitkeṃ teki mantanta ṣäp srukentär cai ‘to whom thou givest the righteous, immortal medicine to drink, they will avoid sickness and never die’ (212b3/4), [ke]te = BHS yasya (299a1), kleśanmaṣṣi sta[na no bha]wakärne keṃt [sic] witsko ‘the kleśa-trees whose root [is] in the highest existence’ (554a3/4), kete pācer lare tākaṃ mācer wat ‘to whom father or mother [are] dear’ (576b7). + -- ket-ra ~ ketara ‘whosever, to whomever, for whomever’: taiknesa ket ra kartseś paspārtau poyśi [ i]nāṣle ‘in this way the Buddha [is] to be honored [who has] worked for the good of everyone’ (30b8), sklok ket ra nai mā tsänkau ste k_use tne cmīträ mā srūko[y] ‘to no one indeed has a doubt arisen [as to] who may be [re-]born and not die’ (46b2), mā keta[ra pe]rākäññesa mā alyeksa aśalle = BHS aparapratyayo nanyaneya (541a2). +∎Like om(p) ‘there’ is to ompe ‘id.,’ ket is the apocopated variant of the more original kete. TchB kete reflects a putative PIE *k^wo-tos, with the adverbial *-tos added to the ordinary relative/interrogative stem *k^wo- (for which, see also k_use). As examples of *-tos added to nouns, pronouns, or locatives we may cite Sanskrit itáḥ ‘from here,’ tátaḥ ‘from there,’ mukhatáḥ ‘from the mouth,’ Avestan x^vatō ‘from oneself,’ Greek entós ‘inside,’ ektós ‘outside,’ Latin funditus ‘from the bottom, completely,’ intus ‘inside, from/to within,’ or Old Irish acht ‘outside.’ This PIE *k^wotos is parallel in some respects to the *k^wo-ih_xo- seen in Latin cūjus ‘whose,’ TchA ke ‘id.,’ and perhaps B kaiyye, q.v. (For the explanation of Latin cūjus and A ke, see Hilmarsson [1989a:28] who improves on a suggestion of VW [1969:490, 1976:246].) An original genitive *k^weso (= Gothic hwis) would have given Proto-Tocharian *śäse (> A **tsa, B **ṣe--cf. the history of hand, A tsar, B ṣar, from PIE *ǵhesor-), a form that was phonologically distant from the nominative and the accusative. If *k^we- had been replaced by *k^wu- as in the nominative and accusative (see k_use), the genitive would have been identical with the nominative (both *kwäse). Thus the speakers of Proto-Tocharian had to cast their net further afield. +See also kos, k_use, and possibly kaiyye. +

+ + +
+

+keta¹ (or kete?) +(n.) +‘± damage’
+[keta, -, -//] +keta mā [kärsnātär] (DAM-507a11 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎Presumably to be related to TchA kat which occurs in the set locution kat yām- ‘destroy’ (lit. ‘make destruction’). See VW, 1988:96. It may be that we need to assume a late transfer of a Pre-TchB kete to ketā- to account for the lack of ā-umlaut of the -e-. It is also possible that the one instance is a miswriting for kete, or that kete was actually written but that damage to the manuscript at that point has effaced the e-diacritic. In any case, it seems likely that we should associate PTch *kete with Lithuanian pã-gadas ‘loss, ruin’ Čop, apud VW) from PIE *g^wed^h- ‘push, destroy’ [: Sanskrit gandh- (attested only by the grammarians) ‘push, pierce, destroy,’ Lithuanian gendù (gésti) ‘spoil, decay’ (cf. P:466-467)]. Alternatively we might connect this Tocharian group, following Hilmarsson (H:138-139) with hieroglyphic Luvian kati- ‘harm, damage,’ Hittite kattawatar ‘cause of, grounds for, object of vengence,’ Cuneiform Luvian kattawatnalli- ‘plaintiff,’ Old Irish cath ‘fight,’ Russian kotora ‘quarrel’ from a PIE *ket- (for the Anatolian words, see Melchert, 1987:189, though he reconstructs *katu-). +See also keto. +

+ + +
+

+keta²* +(n.) +‘± seed-field’ or ‘± estate’
+[-, ketāntse, keta//] +ynaimyāṣṣi ketasa cāneṃ kamānte yältse-piś-känte tāy sank[r]āmiññai ketāntse kom-pirkomeṃ armokiññe cake sim... ‘the [inhabitants] of Ynaimya for the seed-field have received 1,500 cānes. Of this seed-field [pertaining to] the monastery, on the east the boundary [is] the Armoki river’ (Otani 19.1.2/3 [Pinault, 1998]). +‣The meaning is not certain from this its only context. Pinault suggests the translation ‘estate’ but the price, given in cānes (where cāne is cognate with modern Mandarin qián), would seem to suggest a smaller parcel of land. +∎A possible etymological connection with kät- ‘scatter (to some purpose), sow’ would give the mean ng ‘seed-field’ or the like. One might compare Greek spórima ‘brain-field’ from speírō ‘sow.’ Since the word does not show the effect of ā-umlaut (whereby it would have been *kāta), this word is presumably a late creation (cf. weta ‘struggle’) within Tocharian B (Adams, 1998). +

+ + +
+

+kete +See ket. +

+ + +
+

+keto +(adj.) +‘± harmed, destroyed’ or (n.) ‘± damage’ (?)
+[m: keto, -, -//] +khadiräṣṣe ṣat twerene tsanapale kete ñemtsa yāmäṃ su keto mäsketär ‘a sliver of acacia [is] to be stuck in the door; in whosoever name one does [this], he becomes keto’ (M-2a2). +∎The meaning is predicated on the assumption that there is some etymological connection with keta¹, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ketwe* +(n.) +‘± ornament, jewel’
+[//ketwi, -, ketweṃ] +/// spharir [tsrer]m[e]nne ysaṣṣeṃ ñkäñci po ketwi ñk[äñceṃne] (571a1), [po ke]twi tākaṃ tsrermenne ‘all the jewels will be in the ditch’ (571a2). +∎TchA katu and B ketwe reflect PTch *ketwe, a nominal derivative of *kät- ‘spread’ (VW:190). Otherwise H:139. +

+ + +
+

+keṃ +(nf.) +‘earth, ground’
+[keṃ -, keṃ//] +l[kāṣṣäṃ] | ṣalesa stmau ramt tākaṃ kentsa [stmo]ṣäṃ ‘he sees, as if he were standing on a mountain [those] standing on the earth’ [kentsa = BHS bhūmi-] (12a7), ñi ka yarke yāmyeṃ ṣek mā=lyekepi keṃ ramoṃ ‘they always did only me honor, they didn't bow [to] the ground for another’ (33b4), keṃ miwäṃ räskre ‘the earth shakes roughly’ (113a4), keṃtsa eprerne [sic] wat = BHS avanau ga[g]ane vā (195a4), Jambu-dvipäṣṣai ortstsai [lege: aurtstsai] tā kentsa yaṃ ‘he goes over that broad land of India’ (345b2), saryat[e] ... kenne witskaṃ ‘he planted the roots in the ground’ (388a1/2), kenmeṃ oko ysāre kälwāwa ‘I got fruit and grain from the earth’ (476a2). + -- kenaṣṣe ‘prtng to earth or ground’ (214b5); +
+kenätstse ‘earthly, terrestrial’: k[e]nättse = BHS -b[h]auma- (251b2). +∎TchA tkaṃ and B keṃ reflect PTch *tken from PIE *d^h(_e)ǵ^hom- ‘earth, ground’ [: Sanskrit kṣāḥ (f.) (stem kṣam-), Avestan zå (f.) (stem zəm-), Greek khthōn (f.) (stem khthon-), khamaí ‘to the ground,’ Albanian dhe (m.) (pl. dhera), Latin humus (< *homus), Old Irish dú (gen. don), Lithuanian žẽmė (f.), OCS zemlja (f.), Hittite tēkan (gen. taknas), etc. (P:414-415), Cuneiform Luvian tiyammi-, Hieroglyphic Luvian takami ‘to/in the country’] (Meillet, 1914:19, VW:506-7, MA:174). As in Hittite and Greek the word-final *-m of the nom. sg. *d^h_(e)ǵ^hōm gave *-n and was then extended throughout the paradigm. Subsequently in Tocharian the acc. sg. (*d^h_(e)ǵ^homṃ [analogical for phonetically expected *d^h_(e)ǵ^hōm] > *tkemä(n) > *tkenä(n) [by extension of *-n]) was extended to the nominative. +See also keñiye. +

+ + +
+

+keni* +(n.[dual]) +‘knees’
+[/-, -, keni/] +lyam=Ānande kenisa ‘A. sat on [his] knees’ (5b4), antapi kenīsa keṃ teksa ‘with both knees he touched the ground’ (H-149.X.4a5 [Couvreur, 1978:43]). + -- kenineṣṣe ‘prtng to the knees’ (K-T). +∎TchA dual kanweṃ and B keni reflect PTch *kenwäi or the like (the exact form of the dual of u-stem nouns in PTch is not as clear as it might be). The loss of *-w- after a resonant in an intervocalic consonant cluster in B appears to be regular (cf. ṣmare ‘fat’ [< *smerwo-). PTch *kenw- is from PIE *ǵonu ‘knee’ [: Sanskrit jānu (nt.) ‘knee’ (dual jānunī), Armenian cunr, Greek gónu (nt.), Latin genū (nt.), Gothic kniu (nt.), Old English knēo (nt.), Hittite genu (nt.), etc. (P:380-381; MA:336)] (Meillet, 1911:147, VW:187). +See also possibly keñinta. +

+ + +
+

+kene* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± melody’ or ‘tune’
+[-, -, kene//] +wättänt kenene ‘in the wättänt melody’ (514a4). +‣The meaning is discussed by Winter (1962, fn. 45). +∎TchA kaṃ and B kene probably reflect PTch *kene from PIE *ǵ^hwono- [: OCS zvonъ ‘sound,’ Albanian zë ‘sound, voice,’ Armenian jain (< *ǵ^hwonyo- or *ǵ^hwṇyo-?) (P:490-491; MA:534)] (VW, 1962a:180, 1976:186). The PIE root vowel *-o- makes a connection with PIE *kan- ‘sing’ (VW, 1941:25; H:129) much less likely. +

+ + +
+

+kene ̇e +(nf.) +‘?’
+[kene ̇e, -, -//] +///le kene ̇e sonopälya (W-30b5). +‣This word appears in a very broken context. A line or so before refers to the head being rubbed and it is probable that in kene ̇e we have another body part. +

+ + +
+

+kenek +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘linen’
+[kenek, -, kenek//] +alyekepi käryorttante śana sruka tā_u erkenmasa ṣalāre kenek śār aipar-ne ‘the wife of a merchant dies; they put her in the cemetery and wrapped a linen all over her’ (560a2/3), srukausai klaiṃtsa aipoṣ kenek kamā[t]e ‘he took for himself the linen covering the dead woman’ (560a5). + -- kenekäññe ‘prtng to linen’ (P-2a2). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW:213-214. +

+ + +
+

+kenottär* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, kenottär//] +/// kenottärsa sätkāñecci (531a4). +

+ + +
+

+Kentarśke +(n.) +‘Kentarśke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Kentarśke, -, -//] +(490a-III-6). +

+ + +
+

+[kenmer] +(n.) +‘excrement’
+‣Only attested in PK-7-Mb6 in the phrase ysāra pitkenmer which Schmidt (1980:490) takes to be ysāra pit=kenmer but in reality is more likely to be ysāra pitke-enmer, qq.v. with H:130. +

+ + +
+

+kentse +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± rust’
+[kentse, -, -//] +eñcuwañe kentse onkolmaññe ānkär te ṣeme yarm ‘iron-rust and elephant tusk, the same measure’ (W-31b1/2). +‣Since eñcuwañe kentse appears to be the equivalent of English ‘rust,’ kentse by itself must have a somewhat more general meaning, though its exact limits cannot be specified (H:130, refers to a pilkeṣṣe kentse ‘copper rust, [i.e.] verdigris’). +∎From PTch *ken(ä)se, reflecting a PIE *konis-o-, a thematicization of the PIE word for ‘dust, ashes, oxidation product’ seen in the kónis (f.) ‘dust, ashes’ of Greek and the cinis/cineris (m./f.) ‘ashes’ of Latin. The Latin and Greek words are normally taken as the reflexes of a neuter *kónis with gender reassigned on the basis of the shape of the nominative singular. I see no a priori reason, however, why we could not have had a feminine acrostatic *kónis, genitive *kénis(o)s, the latter's vocalism having been generalized in Latin. +See also possibly kānts-. +

+ + +
+

+kepec(e)* +(n.) +‘± hem, edge of garment’
+[-, -, kepec//] +mā wä[s]tsitse kepec ette lankaskemane yanmaṣṣälle ‘[he is] not to enter [a house] dangling the hem of [his] clothes’ (322a3/4). +∎Probably (with VW:214) a derivative of some sort of PIE *kop- ‘cut’ [: Greek kóptō ‘knock, smite, cut off,’ Albanian kep ‘chisel, chip off,’ Lithuanian kapiù ‘tailor’ (all < *kopye/o-, cf. P:931-032)]. Less likely is Hilmarsson's suggestion (H:131) of a PIE *kobh- hand on the basis of Lithuanian kabėti ‘hang.’ +

+ + +
+

+Kemārcune +(n.) +‘Kṣemārjuna’ (PN of a king)
+[Kemārcune, -, -//] +[pi]ṣ [sic] kṣuntsa Kemārcune [oroccepi lānte] (486a1). The Tocharian initial k- indicates a borrowing from some Prakrit source where Sanskrit kṣ- had given kh-. +

+ + +
+

+keme* +(nm.) +‘tooth’
+[//kemi, -, kemeṃ] +śtwer śkänmaṣṣ=āstreṃ keme[ntsa yaitoṣ] ko_intsa ‘with [thy] mouth decorated with four decades of pure teeth’ (248b2/3), srukalyñeṣṣe koyn kakāyau tekiṣṣeṃ kemeṃtsa po treṣṣäṃ śaiṣṣe ‘gaping open [his] mouth with teeth of death, he eats the whole world’ (282b4). + -- kemeṣṣe* ‘prtng to a tooth; ivory (adj.)’: [ta]ñ kemeṣṣepi se[r]k[entse] = BHS tvaddantapankty- (H-ADD.149.79b5 [Couvreur, 1966:178]), se ṣamāne ayāṣṣe kemeṣṣe sucīkar yamastär ‘whatever monk should make himself a needlecase out of bone or ivory’ (H-149.X.3b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]). +∎TchA kam and B keme reflect PTch *keme from PIE *ǵómbho- ‘tooth’ [: Sanskrit jámbha- (m.) ‘tooth,’ jambhya- (m.) ‘molar tooth,’ Greek gómphos (m.) ‘tooth; bolt, dowel,’ gomphíos (m.) ‘molartooth,’ Albanian dhëmb (m.) ‘tooth,’ dhëmballë (f.) ‘molartooth,’ OCS zǫbъ (m.) ‘tooth,’ Latvian zùobs ‘tooth,’ Lithuanian žam̃bas (m.) ‘edge, brim,’ OHG kamm ‘comb,’ etc.; Sanskrit jámbhate/jábhate ‘crush, destroy,’ Albanian dhëmb ‘it hurts, aches’ Lithuanian žembiù ‘cut,’ OCS zębǫ ‘tear up, rip to pieces’ (P:369; MA:594)] (Schulze, 1923, VW:186). +

+ + +
+

+kera* +(n.) +some sort of musical instrument (?)
+[//-, keraṃts, -] +māka kerunta wrakaiṃ keraṃts ploriyaṃts newe klyauṣträ ‘the noise of many drums, conchs, keraṃts, and flutes is heard’ (PK-NS.772+AS-17Ka3/4 [Pinault, 1993-94:189]). +‣Not with Pinault do we have a word ‘laughter’ here. +

+ + +
+

+kerū* +(nm.) +‘drum’
+[-, -, kerū//-, -, kerunta] +pelaikneṣṣe kerusa piś-cmelaṣṣeṃ kakātai riśc nervānṣai ‘by the drum of righteousness thou hast invited those of the five births to the nirvana-city’ (221a2). +∎Possibly VW (216) is right in relating this word with an Indo-European group meaning ‘cauldron, kettle’ [: Sanskrit carú- (m.) ‘kettle, pot, pan,’ Old Irish coire (m.) ‘kettle,’ Welsh pair ‘id.,’ Cornish pêr ‘id.’ Old Norse hverr (m.) ‘kettle,’ OHG (h)wer ‘id.’ Old English hwer (m.) ‘pot, bowel, kettle, cauldron’ (P:642; MA:443)]. VW suggests *k^woru- as the putative PIE antecedent of keru but the lack of rounding of the stem-vowel (cf. or ‘wood’ < *doru) and the retention of -u militate against such a hypothesis. Perhaps we have *k^worwṇt- or, if as is surely possible, the plural is analogical, perhaps we have a thematic *k^wórwom. However, TchA karel ‘drum’ (Pinault, 1990:174-9) is clearly related and looks to be in form a deverbative adjective. Pinault takes this etymon to be from ¹ker- (P:571), ²g^her- (P:439), or ǵar- (P:352), all of which express noise of some sort or another. He further relates these words for ‘drum’ to kery- ‘laugh’ (so too H:135) but that seems semantically very difficult. +

+ + +
+

+kerekauna +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘flood’
+[kerekauna, -, kerekauna//] +ce_u kerekauna wnolme mā melyan-ne ‘such a being the flood does not crush’ [kerekauna = BHS ogha] (12b7), kerekauna k[a]tkatsi ‘to cross the flood’ (355b4). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW:214 (*(s)koro- ‘rapid’ + ǵ^hounā- ‘pouring’ from *ǵ^heu- ‘pour’). For another, see H:132-133 (a derivative of *g^wer(h₃)- ‘swallow’). +

+ + +
+

+Kereptaññe +(n.) +‘Kereptaññe’ (PN in caravan pass)
+[kereptaññe, -, -//] +(LP-3a2). +

+ + +
+

+kerke* +(n.) +‘fetters’ (??)
+[//-, -, kerkeṃ] +(PK-16-5b3) (H:134). +See also kerketstse*. +

+ + +
+

+kerketstse * +(nm.) +‘fetters’
+[//-, -, kerketstseṃ] +k_use po tārkaṃ enkalñanta [lege: -enta] po päst rintär wäntarwa pontäṃ krāstäṃ [sic] kerketseṃ ‘whoever looses all entanglements, renounces all affairs, and cuts off all fetters’ (33a3). +∎A derivative of ²kärk-. One should compare TchA kärkṣiṃ ‘fetter,’ also an adjectival derivative (A -ṣi = B -ṣṣe) from kärk- (Normier, 1980:264-265). +See also perhaps kerke*. +

+ + +
+

+kercapo* +(n.) +‘ass, donkey’
+[kercapo, -, kercapai//kercapañ, -, ] +twe ñī yaitkorsa maṃt pyām [] k_uce kaṣake Puttamitre parra yaṃ [] caumpa śāmna ikäṃ [] kercapaṃ trey [] yakwe ṣe ‘so do by this my command that the Kashgarian P. goes through; with him, 20 men, 3 asses, one horse’ (LP-1a1/4). + -- kercapaññe ‘prtng to an ass’: yäkweñña kolyi lykaśke wawaltsausa kercapaññe yasarsa ṣpärkaṣle ‘horse's hoof, finely ground, [is] to be dissolved in ass's blood’ (M-1b4/5). +∎Reflecting a PTch *kercäpā- which, except for the stem class, is the exact equivalent of Sanskrit gardabhá- (m.) ‘donkey, ass’ (< *gordeb^ho-) with the same *-b^ho- which appears in other Indo-European designations of animals (e.g. Greek elaphós ‘red-deer’ or Sanskrit vṛṣabhá- ‘bull’)--Pisani, 1942-1943a:25, VW:214, MA:33-34. If, as has so often been suggested (see VW for a review of the previous literature), kercapo is a borrowing from Indic gardabhá-, the borrowing must be very early, before the merger of the non-high vowels in Indo-Iranian (otherwise we would expect *kertepo or the like with the first and second vowels alike and no palatalization). Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985b:134) suggests the possibility of an Iranian intermediary while Anreiter (ibid.) suggests that the Indic and Tocharian words are both borrowed from some third (and unknown) language. +See also Kercapiśke and Kercaṃpey. +

+ + +
+

+Kercapiśke +(n.) +‘Kercapiśke’ (PN in grafitto)
+[Kercapiśke, -, -//] +(G-Su-35). +∎Literally a diminutive of kercapo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Kercaṃpey +(n.) +‘Kercampey’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Kercampey, -, -//] +(491a5). +∎Presumably related in some fashion to kercapo ‘donkey,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kerciṣe +See keryiṣe. +

+ + +
+

+kerccī +(n.[pl. tantum masc.]) +‘palace’
+[//kerccī, -, kerccīyeṃ] +tane plaktu[kä]ñña brāhmaṇeṃ lyelyakormeṃ kercīyenn[e] yopsa śle yärke lāntaś weṣṣäṃ ‘now the gate-keeper, having seen the brahmans, entered into the palace and speaks respectfully to the king’ (81b3/4). + -- kercciyeṃṣṣe ‘prtng to the palace’: kercciyeṃṣṣe yaknesa yaitoṣ rānkne ‘on a stage gotten up like a palace’ (520b4). +∎Etymology uncertain. It is possible (with VW:215) that we have a putative PIE *g^hortiyo- related to Greek khórtos (m.) ‘enclosed place, feeding place,’ Latin hortus (m.) ‘garden,’ Old Irish gort ‘standing crop,’ Latin cohors ‘enclosure, yard,’ possibly English garden (cf. P:442-443; MA:199). However, there seems to be no reason on phonological grounds to reject a putative PIE *g^hord^hiyo- (as suggested by both Meillet, in Hoernle [1916:379] and Lidén [1916:21-2]) and thus a relationship with OCS gradъ (m.) ‘city,’ Sanskrit gṛhá- (m.) ‘house, habitation, home,’ Gothic gards (m.) ‘house,’ Old Norse garδr (m.) ‘fence, hedge, court,’ Old English geard (m.) ‘enclosure, yard,’ Lithuanian gar̃das (m.) ‘fold, pen,’ Phrygian -gordum ‘city,’ and Górdion ‘Gordium’ (P:444; MA:199). Except that Tocharian kerccī is plural it would match Phrygian Górdium exactly. In any case PIE *g^hort- and *g^hord^h- are likely to be phonologically conditioned variants of what was originally a single paradigm with a nominative singular *g^hórts (with automatic devoicing) and a non-nominative stem *g^hord^h-. In a variation of this proposal, Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985b:150) suggests that we have here a borrowing from a Middle Iranian *gardiya-). +

+ + +
+

+Kertik +(n.) +‘Pleiades’
+Kertik näkṣātärne (M-1b4). +∎From BHS kṛttikā- (Filliozat, not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+kertte +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘sword’
+[kertte, -, kertte//-, -, kertteṃ] +onolmi kameṃ yeweṃ kertte en[k]oṣ ‘beings came having taken up knives and sword’ (347a5), wes rano ñake kerteṃ yamamtär ścirona ṣñārä ‘each of us will now make sharp swords for ourselves’ (404b8). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps inherited and a derivative of *(s)ker- ‘cut’ (see the large list of cognates assembled by P:938ff.; MA:336). Particularly we should point out, both for the lack of s-mobile and the addition of a dental suffix, Sanskrit kartana- ‘cutting,’ kṛtí- ‘a sort of knife or dagger,’ Avestan karəta- ‘knife,’ Modern Persian kārd ‘id.,’ Ossetic kard ‘id.’ One should also mention Gothic hairus ‘sword,’ Old Norse hjǫrr, ‘id.,’ Old English heoru ‘id.,’ and TchA kāre ‘id.’ Alternatively the TchB word may be borrowed from some Iranian source (so VW:215, K. T. Schmidt, 1983:763, H:134-135). +

+ + +
+

+Kerdipole +(n.) +‘Kerdipole’ (PN in grafitto)
+[Kerdipole, -, -//] +(G-Su-35). +

+ + +
+

+ker(y)- +(vi.) +G ‘laugh’; K ‘make laugh’
+G Ps. II /kery^'ä/_e-/ [A // -, -, ker(i)yeṃ; MPPart. keriyemane]; PP /kekeru-/ +/// [ke]ry[eṃ] kāñmeṃ spänteṃnträ onwaññe śaul ‘they laugh, they play, they trust [that] life [is] eternal’ (2b2). +∎TchA kar(y)- and B ker(y)- reflect PTch *ker(y)- (as if) from PIE *ǵ^hor(ye/o)- [: Sanskrit háryati ‘find pleasure in, desire,’ Greek khaírō ‘rejoice,’ Umbrian heriest ‘volet,’ Latin horior ‘exhort, incite,’ OHG gerōn ‘want, desire, long for,’ Old English giernan ‘yearn,’ etc. (P:440-441; MA:158)] (VW:188). +See also possibly kartse and keru. +

+ + +
+

+keryiṣe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: keryiṣe, -, -//] +wlaśkeṃ pūwarsa päkṣalle āśce sonopälya keryiṣe pāre ra matsi mäsketär ‘[it is] to be cooked over a slow fire and the head [is] to be smeared; the hair becomes like a keryiṣe pāre’ (W-33b3/4). +‣The reading is uncertain. Filliozat reads keryipe; Sieg has kerciṣe. +

+ + +
+

+kele +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘navel; center’
+[kele, -, kele//] +korne kelen=ārañcäś paine täṅtsi ‘in the throat, in the navel, to the heart, unto the feet’ (41b3/4), kätkre wartse kele ‘a deep, broad navel’ (73b2), rīntse kelesa ‘by the center of the city’ (244b4). +∎From PIE *k^wolo-, a derivative of *k^wel- ‘turn, revolve’ [: OCS kolo (gen. kolese) ‘wagon’ (< *k^woles-), Old Irish cul ‘wagon’ (< *k^wolō dual), Greek -pólos in aipólos ‘goatherd,’ or amphípolos ‘servant’ (see other formally more distant cognates P:639-640; MA:6-6-607)] (Couvreur, 1950:130, also Normier, 1980:253, and K. T. Schmidt, 1980:403). The original meaning was possibly ‘nave (of a wheel)’ (i.e. ‘that which turns’) and subsequently metaphorically transferred to the human navel. Not with VW (626) a borrowing from some northeast Asiatic language. +See also kokale and probably käl-¹ and käl-². +

+ + +
+

+keleyak +(n.) +‘Berberis asiatica Roxb. ex DC’ (a medical ingredient)
+[keleyak, -, //] +(W-8b3). +∎From BHS kālīyakā-. +

+ + +
+

+kewiye +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘prtng to a cow or to cows’; (b) ‘butter’
+[m: kewiye, -, kewiye//] +yṣiñe cokiś ṣalywe masa ṣank ywārtsa kewye ‘a pound of oil for the night lamp comes and a half [pound] of butter’ (451a2), tot kewiye tot kuñcitäṣṣe aṣiye malkwersa ‘as much with cow's milk as with goat's milk’ (W-41b1). +∎A derivative of ke_u, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kewe(-) +‘?’
+/// [y]ś[e]lme śīl kete prākre manta kewe/// (145b1). +

+ + +
+

+keś +(n.) +‘number’
+[keś, -, keś//] +po cmelṣana astäṃtsa winaskau-c ṣpä snai yarm keś ‘I honor thee with the heads of all births, without measure or number’ (241b3), caturḍasaṣṣeṃ k_uśāneṃ utpatä po ṣe keśne (490-aI-5), tuntse keś nauṣameṃ ste ‘de cela la somme est avant’ (DAM-507a8 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). + -- keś āk- (vt.) ‘pay attention to’: lo lmau tākoy mā keś wāyoy pāyalyñe ‘he must sit afar and not pay attention to the singing’ (PK-15D-b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]); +
+keś tā- (vt.) ‘judge, consider, weigh’: keś tä[ttārmeṃ] = BHS niśāmya (12b8), mant ṣañ śāmna keś ptes twe ‘thus judge thy own people!’ (46a7), empreṃ keś tä[ttārmeṃ] ‘having pondered truth’ (288b3); +
+keś yām- (vt.) ‘count’: ṣkas piś ñu wat no ṣaṃṣtär mā po solme ... kos satāṣṣäṃ| menki tumeṃ satāṣlñe keś yāmastär [sic] ‘six, five, or nine, not all complete; as many times as he exhales he counts less [as] exhalation’ (41b1); +
+keś we- ‘recite in order’: Dharmatrāteṃtse winai ṣak [= ṣpak ?] keś weṣiyeṃ no ‘and they recite, then, the vinaya of Dh.’ (G-Su12); +
+snai-keś ‘countless’: snai ke[ś] y[äl]tsenma tmanenma Aranemiṃmpa lateṃ ostmeṃ wnolmi ‘countless thousands and tens of thousands of beings became monks with A.’ (3b2/3), snai keś = BHS aneka (30a3). +∎TchA kaś and B keś reflect PTch *keśä but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Perhaps with Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:158) we have a putative PIE *k^woḱi- from *k^weḱ- ‘appear, see, show’ [: Sanskrit kāśate ‘appears, shines,’ caṣṭe ‘appears,’ Avestan čašte/čašaite ‘teach,’ OCS kazati (with voiced root-final consonant) ‘show’ (P:638)]. Semantic parallels are assembled by Buck (1949:917-918). Less plausible phonologically is VW's suggestion (1971c:158-9, 1976:190) of *ḱons-ti- from *ḱens- ‘speak solemnly’ [: Sanskrit śáṃsati ‘recites, praises,’ Avestan sah- ‘pronounce,’ Latin cēnseō ‘estimate, form an opinion,’ etc. (P:566; MA:536)]. From such a form as VW proposes one would expect **keśc (cf. āśce ‘head’). Somewhat similarly Hilmarsson (H:137) takes it to reflect a PIE *ḱos-ti- and compares Greek -kás and Sanskrit -śás ‘in a continuous sequence with, following upon’ but the meaning seems distant and the Gk -a- is unexplained. +

+ + +
+

+keśik* +a meter of 4 X 17 syllables (rhythm: 6/6/5)
+[-, -, keśik//] +(400a3). +

+ + +
+

+keścye +(adj.) +‘hungry’
+[keścye, -, -//keści, keścyeṃts, -] +keṣcye [sic] r[ur]u wär ñäṣträ ‘the hungry deer seeks water’ (139b4), keścyeṃts śwāts[i] ‘food for the hungry’ (239a3). +∎A derivative of kest, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+keṣe* +(n.) +‘fathom’
+[-, -, keṣe//-, -, keṣeṃ] +/// piś-känte keṣeṃ wartstse ‘... 500 fathoms wide’ (111b7), [tām]p[a] keṣe keṃ enenkāmeṃ stāmaṃ ‘[if] he stands within a fathom of ground from [= of] her, pāyti’ (328b3). + -- keṣe-yärm ‘the measure of a fathom’: keṣe-yärm lkāṣṣi ‘he saw a fathom's distance’ (517b1). +∎TchA kaṣ and B keṣe reflect PTch *keṣe but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. At various times VW has suggested that we have an inherited word related to Sanskrit ghasta- ‘hand’ or a borrowing from a Uralic source such as seen in Finnish käsi- ~ käte- ‘hand’ (see VW:625). Hilmarsson (H:137-138) suggests a PIE *ḱos-yo- and a relationship with keś, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kes- +See käs-. +

+ + +
+

+kesār* +(n.) +‘filament (of the lotus), stamen’
+[/-, -, kesarne/] +ñ[ä]kcy[e] padūmne ywārcka kesārne ‘on the divine lotus, between the (two) stamens’ (73b1=75a2). +∎From BHS kesara-. +

+ + +
+

+kest +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘hunger’
+[kest, kestantse, kest//] +kessa wn[o]lm[i sru]kenträ ‘out of hunger beings die’ (3a1/2), ot ce_ukestsa mätstsentär ‘then because of this hunger they starve’ (590a7), kestantse = BHS kṣudh- (Y-3b3). + -- kestaṣṣe ‘prtng to hunger’: kālp kestaṣṣe ‘the period of hunger’ (590a7); +
+kestatstse ‘having hunger’: ot no k[e]statse prekeṣai ‘thus it was the time of hunger’ (H-149.X.5a2/3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]); +
+kest-yokaiṣṣe ‘prtng to hunger and thirst’ (284a2). +∎TchA kaṣt and B kest reflect PTch *kest from PIE *Kost also seen in Hittite kast ‘hunger,’ kistanziya- ‘starve’ (< *kestént-ye/o-) and kist(u)want- ‘hungry’ (< *kestwént-) (H:136-137; MA:284). The voicing and aspiration of the initial consonant cannot be determined on the basis of the Hittite and Tocharian evidence. If Hieroglyphic Luvian astar is ‘from/by hunger,’ then the we would have evidence for a voiced initial (Melchert, 1987:185-186). We might also include Sanskrit jásuri- ‘hungry (of a wolf)’ and possibly Sanskrit kṣudh- (f.) ‘hunger’, Av šuδ (m.) ‘hunger’ if from *ǵs-ud^h-. See Friedrich (1925:122, also VW:189). It is possible that all these are further related to Hittite kist- ‘be extinguished’ (more s.v. käs-). +See aslo keścye and possibly käs-. +

+ + +
+

+kaice* +(n.) +‘± trough, tub; body of a lute’
+[-, -, kaice//] +kaice = BHS droṇiṃ (529b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps to be connected with OCS cevьnica ‘lyre, pipe,’ Polish cewa ‘tube, pipe,’ Lithuanian šeivà ~ šaivà, Latvian saiva ‘spool.’ The Baltic represents a satem-dvelopment of *ḱ-, the Slavic a centum-development, from *ḱoiw-i-/ *ḱoiw-eh_a-, a derivative of *sḱei- ‘cut, split’ (P:919-922; MA:96). Tocharian kaice might be from *koi-Ten-, *koiwe-Ten- or perhaps even *koiwi-Ten-. +

+ + +
+

+kaiyye +(relative pronoun?) +‘whose’ (??) or ‘permission, opportunity’ (??)
+[m: -, -, kaiyye//] +/// [pre]kṣītär kaiyye wek ṣäp tärkänoy ‘[if] he were asked, whose voice would he release?’ [?] or ‘he would ask permission for himself; he would emit a voice’ (129b6). +∎If the meaning given first has been correctly identified, we have here the expected TchB equivalent of A ke ‘whose.’ More s.v. ket(e). However, Pinault, 1991:190-191, suggests a connection instead with TchA ke which occurs in the compound sne-ke ‘without fortune,’ ‘without favor’ which he takes to be from PIE *k^wei(h_x)- ‘pay attention to.’ Similarly Hilmarsson [H:59-60] suggests a meaning ‘permission, opportunity,’ again with a connection to TchA (sne)-ke, translating the latter as ‘without permission,’ ‘without opportunity’ and a connection with ON heiti ‘promise, word’ from PIE *koidyo-. All is speculative. +

+ + +
+

+ko +‘?’
+/// ñäkte ko ytāri yaṃ/// (381b1), /// [caka]nma śwāra tom ko - (465a1). +

+ + +
+

+kok* +(nf.) +‘?’
+[-, -, kok//] +tommeṃ no pokkāka ṣotarnma tā kokne se saṃnipātik kärsanalle ‘announce therefrom the signs on the kok; this [is] known [as] the saṃni-pātika’ (P-2a1). The context suggests that this may be the designation of a body part or perhaps a more general "countenance" or "appearance." If the latter, one thinks of a possible connection with Old Irish cucht or Old Norse háttr (more s.v. kektseñe). +

+ + +
+

+kokale +(nm.) +‘cart, wagon, chariot’
+[kokale, kokalentse ~ koklentse, kokale//kokalyi, -, kokaleṃ (~ kokleṃ)] +ṣem kautāte koklentse waiptār pwenta käskānte ‘the wagon's axle broke and the spokes were hurled apart’ (5a2), kokalyi = BHS rathāḥ (5a8). + -- kokaleṣṣe ‘prtng to a wagon’ (5a7); +
+kokaletstse ‘provided with a wagon; wagon-traveler’: kokaletstse īyoy sū Prasenacī walo ot ‘then this king P. went traveling provided with a wagon’ [kokaletstse = BHS śākaṭika-] (5a2). +∎TchA kukäl and B kokale reflect PTch *kuk(ä)le from PIE *k^wuk^wlo- from *k^w_ek^wlo-. This *k^wuk^wlo- apparently matches Greek kúklos ‘circle, wheel.’ (The semantic development ‘wheel’ > ‘wagon, chariot’ is paralleled by OCS kolo ‘wheel; wagon’ from *k^wolo-.) The Tocharian and Greek forms are closely related to, but phonologically distinct from, the *k^wek^wló- that lies behind Sanskrit cakrá- ‘circle, wheel,’ Old English hwēol ‘wheel,’ Lithuanian kãklas ‘neck’ (< *‘turner’), etc. Both *k^w_ek^wlo- and *k^wek^wló- are reduplicated derivatives of *k^wel- ‘revolve’ (P:639-640; MA:640). See Feist, 1913:221, VW:239-40, and Hilmarsson, 1986a:60-61. +See also kokalpänta, kokalyiśke*, kele, klutk-, and possibly käl-¹ and käl-². +

+ + +
+

+kokalpänta +(n.) +‘± wagon-master’
+[kokalpänta, kokalpäntantse, kokalpäntai//] +/// kokalpänta weṣṣäṃ (609a4). +∎A compound of kokale, q.v. (in its combining form kokälä-) and -päntā- ‘± he of the way’ from a putative PIE *pṇth₂-eh_a- (cf. *póntōh₂s ‘way, path’). More on -pänta s.v. amakṣpänta. +

+ + +
+

+kokalyiśke* +‘small wagon, cart’
+[//-, -, kokalyiśkaṃ] +kokalyiśkaṃ yäkwaṣkaṃ ‘little waggons and little horses’ (352a2). +∎Diminutive of kokale, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kokīl +(n.) +‘Indian cuckoo’
+[kokīl, -, -//] +(575b2). +∎From BHS kokila-. +

+ + +
+

+koṭ ~ kor* +(n.) +‘ten million’
+[//koṭanma ~ koranma, -, koṭanma ~ koranma] +maiwa [keṃ ta]r[y]äl[ts]e po śaiṣṣenne kodyänmā sumerntā naittāre ‘the earth shook and three billion Sumerus in all worlds crashed’ (274b6). +∎From BHS koṭī- (cf. Winter, 1991:129). +

+ + +
+

+koṭiśvare* +(nm.) +‘millionaire’
+[//-, -, koṭiśvareṃ] +(567a4). +∎From BHS koṭīśvara-. +

+ + +
+

+kot +(adverbial relative pronoun) +‘as many, much as’ [= kos]
+[list of medical ingredients]: kos toṃ po kot sātkenta wasto tot (W-9b1). +∎A byform of kos, found only in the Weber MS, rebuilt on the model of tot, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+Kotile +(n.) +‘Kotila’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Kotile, -, -//] +(491b-I-1). +

+ + +
+

+kotuka +‘?’
+/// p[i]ś kotuka entwemeṃ mñcuṣke ne/// (111b4). +

+ + +
+

+koto* +(nf.) +‘± crevice, hole in the ground, pit’ [weṃṣyetstsa koto = ‘± sewer, latrine’]
+[-, -, kotai//] +k_use yikne-ritañ sosoyoṣ weṃṣyetsai ramt kotaisa yarkesa wikṣeñcañ ‘whoever [are] seekers of [the right] way and are satiated and keep themselves away from a sewer and from flattery’ (31a2/3), ///nma ṣpä kotaiñ mäskenträ [kotaiñ = BHS śvabhra-] (K-8b4). +∎Probably derivative of kaut- ‘split off, strike, crush’ (so VW, 1941:44, 1976:232). The vowel of the first syllable results from an earlier (PTch) *-āu- rounded by the nom. sg. ending -o (one might compare ṣñor ‘sinew’ from earlier *ṣñewur [< *snēwṛ or possibly oko ‘fruit’ [if < *h_aeugōn]). Hilmarsson (H:170) suggests starting from a zero-grade *kh_aud^(h)-ōn. There is no reason to assume a borrowing from an unattested TchA **kot as does VW. Less likely to my mind, because it would then be isolated in Tocharian, is Hilmarsson's suggestion (1986a:38; also H:170) that koto is from a PIE *g^hudōn [: Old Saxon gota ‘canalis,’ Icelandic gjóta ‘fissure, hole in the ground,’ gota ‘opening between two breakers’]. +See also kaut-. +

+ + +
+

+kottär* +(n.) +‘clan, family’
+[-, kottarntse, -//kottarwa, -, -] +(152a4). + -- kottartstse* ‘having a family’: kottarcce pelaik[n]e ‘the law of succession’ (108b9), tu kottartsana = BHS tadanvayāni (530a5); +
+kotruññe ‘prtng to family’: /// [ṣa]ñ katruññe [lege: kotruññe] teri ṣpyārta /// (373a2). +∎From BHS gotra-. +

+ + +
+

+kotrik +(n.) +‘?’
+[kotrik, -, -//] +A medical ingredient (W-36a5). +

+ + +
+

+kotruññe +See kottär. +

+ + +
+

+kodyänma +See koṭ. +

+ + +
+

+kontac(e)* +(n.) +a kind of foodstuff, ‘nut’ (?)
+[-, -, kontac//] +/// jñānakāmi kontac oko ysāre kälwāwa [lege: kälpāwa] (477a2). +∎In kontac oko ysāre we appear to have a list of foodstuffs. If the word means ‘nut,’ then we might think of a putative PIE *kund-uTen- where the *kund- is related by methathesis to Proto-Germanic *hnut- ‘nut’ [: Old English hnutu, OHG (h)nuz, Old Norse hnot] and a bit more distantly to Latin nux (< *knu-k-), and Old Irish cnú, gen. cnó (< *knūs, *knuwos). See P:558. But the meaning, and hence the etymology, is most speculative. +

+ + +
+

+Konmaikankauśke +(n.) +‘Konmaikankauśke’ (PN in graffito)
+[Konmaikankauśke, -, -//] +(G-Qa1.2). +‣See Pinault's discussion, 1986: 163-164. +

+ + +
+

+kontso* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, kontsai//] +klyiye ṣamānentse asāṃ nātkaṃ āmapi kontsaisa wat ‘[if] a woman pushes a monk's seat with either an āmapi or a kontsai’ (325a1). +

+ + +
+

+komt +(adv.) +‘daily’
+śaumo ks=allek [k]omt tsonkaik tsankoy ‘may another person arise daily at dawn’ (19b6). +∎A derivative of kauṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+komtak +in the phrase cau kaumtak ‘today, this very day’
+cau kaumtak Cina [ya]p wāltsa tarya taum ‘today C. ground thirty pounds of grain’ (459a4). +∎A derivative of kauṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kompaino +(nm.) +‘?’
+[//kompaiñ, -, -] +[winamā]ññi pyapyaicci wawakāṣ po kompaino ayato eśnaisäñ ‘the pleasurable, beflowered, blooming kompaiṃ [with "movable-o" and final -n for -ñ], fitting for [thine] eyes’ (588a1). +‣The context suggests that kompo (the probable nominative singular) the name of some tree or plant. +

+ + +
+

+koyñi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± open wound’
+[koyñi, -, -//] +s[n]ai-oläntse [reading uncertain] koyñi ra ṣkas yälloñ pīle nätkau ra takälñe (PK-NS-53-b5 [Pinault, 1988:101]). +∎The meaning is that suggested by Pinault who further suggests an etymological connection with koyn ‘mouth,’ q.v., a suggestion further explored by Hilmarsson (H:172-173). +

+ + +
+

+koyn* +(nnt.) +‘mouth’
+[-, -, koyn//-, -, koynuwa] +ko[yne] = BHS mukhe (16a5), śtwer śkänmaṣṣ= āstreṃ keme[ntsa yaitoṣ] ko_intsa ‘with [thy] mouth decorated with four decades of pure teeth’ (248b2/3), srukalyñeṣṣe koyn kakāyau tekiṣṣeṃ kemeṃtsa po treṣṣäṃ śaiṣṣe ‘gaping open [his] mouth with teeth of death, he eats the whole world’ (282b4), waiyke reki mantanta läññi-ñ [k]oynm[eṃ] ‘may never a lying word emerge from my mouth!’ (S-3a6/b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. TchA koy- (cf. the loc. sg. koyaṃ ‘in the mouth’) and B koyn are obviously cognate in some way but the exact mechanism is not altogether clear. Excepting the final -n of TchB, I take the PTch antecedent of A koy- and B koyn to be *koy which has developed normally in A. (The TchA nominative ko which is usually adduced is, as Hilmarsson shows [H:171] probably non-existent. It occurs but once at A 63a4: orpanksaṃ wotār ārkyant wätsyās śāwaṃ cankär swāñceṃ ko/// which should probably be translated as ‘they placed great white parasols on the tribunes and hindered the rays of the sun,’ where ko/// stands for ko[nis] ‘of the sun.’) In B the original *koy was further derived by (in PIE terms) *-nu- (pl. *-nweh_a). The PTch *koy may represent a putative PIE *ǵ^hoh₁y-u- (nt.) ‘a gaping,’ a derivative of *ǵ^heh₁(i)- ‘yawn, gape’ (see kāy-). PIE *ǵ^hoh₁y-u- is formally comparable with Greek põü (nt.) ‘herd’ from *poh_a(i)- (a derivative of *peh_a-) ‘feed, nurture’ [: the animate in Sanskrit pāyú- (m.) and Avestan pāyu- (m.) ‘protector’]. Under this analysis the relatively common koyn kakāyau would be a figura etymologica (the root connection goes back to Duchesne- Guillemin, 1941:154, VW:227). Differing details in H:171-172, where he rejects an earlier explanation (1986a:14-15) which would make koyn a doublet of kor ‘throat,’ q.v. by starting from a PIE *ǵ^hāwr/n-. VW (227) takes the Tocharian word to be ultimately from *ǵ^hawos (or *ǵ^hh_awos > Greek kháos) + -i-, some sort of derivative of i- ‘go.’ For VW the B word would be borrowed from TchA, with the addition of -in- another derivative of i- ‘go.’ VW's hypothesis might be revised to start from a *ǵ^huh_ayom, metathesized from *ǵ^hh_auyom (MA:96). Not with Ivanov (1985:411) should we take it to be a loanword from Tibetan kha ‘mouth’ since such an origin does not explain the Tocharian form. +See also kāy- and perhaps koyñi. +

+ + +
+

+koylle* +(adj.) +‘± diligent, attentive’ (?)
+[f: koylya, -, -//] +koylya māñya yulyaiñña waimen=āñu källātsi ‘a diligent maid [is] rare [and as] difficult to find [as] peace’ (127b5). +∎Formally it would appear that we have a gerund to an otherwise unattested verb *koy- which, if the meaning assigned is more or less correct, might reflect PIE *(s)keu(h_x)- ‘pay attention, take care’ [: Greek koéō ‘mark, perceive, hear,’ Latin caveō ‘be on one's guard,’ Sanskrit ā-kúvate ‘pay attention to,’ Old English hāwian ‘show,’ OCS čujǫ ‘feel, mark’ (< *keuh_xye/o-), and other more distant cognates (P:587-8)]. Tocharian *koy- might reflect a PIE *kuh_x-ye/o-. +

+ + +
+

+Koysaṃ +(n.) + ‘Koysaṃ’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Koysaṃ -, -//] +(466a1). +

+ + +
+

+kor* +(n.) +‘throat [both internal and external]’
+[-, -, kor//] +yaṃ su yente | korne kelen=āräñcäś paine täṅtsi ‘the wind goes into the throat, into the navel, to the heart, even to the feet’ (41b3), [tau]r āṣtsa ktā[n]te po korsa ‘they threw dust on [their] head[s] and all over [their] throat[s]’ (PK-NS-36A-a5 [Couvreur, 1964:247]), korne = BHS kaṇṭha- (Y-2a4). +∎Etymology uncertain. I think it is most likely to reflect a PIE *ḱuh_xṛ ‘hole, opening’ [: Greek kúar (nt.) ‘eye of the needle; opening of the ear,’ Avestan sūra- ‘hole, gap,’ Armenian sor ‘hole’ (< *ḱouh_xero-?), Sanskrit śūna- ‘lack,’ śūnyá- ‘empty, hollow’ (Frisk, 1970:38; MA:96)]. The development of PIE *-ū- to TchB -o- would appear to be regular (cf. no ‘however’ from *nū). Also possible would be a development from a PIE *g^wor(h₃)u (nt.), a derivative of *g^wer(h₃)-‘swallow, devour’ [: Sanskrit giráti] ‘swallows, devour,’ Avestan jaraiti ‘swallows, gulps,’ Greek bibrōskō ‘consume, eat up,’ Latin vorō ‘swallow, devour,’ Lithuanian geriù ‘drink,’ etc., particularly (for the meaning) Avestan garəδan- ‘throat, neck,’ Modern Persian gulū ‘throat,’ Sanskrit galá- (m.) ‘throat,’ Armenian kokord ‘id.,’ Russian Church Slavonic grъlo ‘id.’ (P:474-476)] (Krause, 1951:203, VW:230). However, the exact form needed to produce B kor is not found elsewhere in this etymon. Also not paralleled elsewhere is the *ǵ^heh_awṛ assumed by Winter and Hilmarsson (see Hilmarsson's discussion, 1986a:12-14, and H:167). +

+ + +
+

+koro* +(n.) +‘herd-animal; moveable chattel’ (??)
+[//koraiṃ (< koraiñ), -, koraiṃ] +///ne ṣameṃ tu postäṃ ka koraiṃ/// ‘they sit on ..., but after that ... the koraiṃ’ (577b2), k_uce ñake [] muśnaśinta [] śāmna korai parra yaneṃ [] śtwer ceynaṃts ok[s]aiṃ wi /// [pt]ār[k]a ‘[my command] that now the muśnaśinta, men and korai, go through, let four of them and two oxen ...’ (LP-16a3/5). +∎The formulaic structure of the caravan-passes makes it clear that korai, like śāmna must be nominatives, presumably jointly in opposition to muśnaśinta. Since a nominative singular korai would be otherwise unparalleled, I take it to be a miswriting of koraiṃ, a variant of the expected nominative plural koraiñ. Together śāmna ‘men’ and koraiṃ must compose the company of muśnaśinta. Like śāmna, the koraiṃ must be animate and mobile because they both ‘walk through’ (parra yaneṃ). On the assumption that this is a deverbative noun from kār- ‘gather’ (the only possible Tocharian verb it could be from), one might hazard a meaning such as ‘herd-animal,’ or ‘moveable chattels.’ +

+ + +
+

+korośāna +(n.) +‘bright yellow orpiment prepared from the bile of cattle’ (a medical ingredient)
+[korośāna, -, -//] +(W-15a4). +∎From BHS gorocanā-. +

+ + +
+

+korśo +See cāro-korśai. +

+ + +
+

+korṣe* +‘?’
+korṣ=enku (PK-15-Ea5), mā teki korṣai (PK-NS-229a3) (H:168). +

+ + +
+

+Kolite +(n.) +‘Kolita’ (PN)
+[Kolite, -, -//] +(110b6). +

+ + +
+

+kolmo* +(n.) +‘boat’
+[-, -, kolmai//-, -, kolmaiṃ] +nauntaiṃ kolmaiṃ uppā[ln]t[a] /// (234a3), /// karpa mäkte kolmaine cänke wä/// ‘he himself descended into the boat ...’ [?] (389b8). +∎TchA koläm and B kolmo relect PTch *kelmā(i)- with the vowel of the first syllable rounded by the the -o of the nominative singular (whence it spread throughout the paradigm). One should compare the identical development in koto, q.v. This *kelmā- is closely related to OHG scalm (m.) ‘boat’ (< *skolmo-), both being derivatives of the richly attested *(s)kel- ‘cut’ (see the words collected by P:923ff; MA:74). The exact semantic agreement of OHG and Tocharian is striking. See VW, 1961b:383, n. 2, 1976:228-229 (though there is no reason to assume with him that A koläm is borrowed from B). Blažek (1991b) suggests a *kolh₃mōn and compares Slavic čьlnъ ‘boat’ from *kḷh₃no- < *kḷ₃mno-, all from *kelh₃- ‘protrude, lift.’ The PIE root is rather *kelh₁- (see käly- ‘stand’) but that would not invalidate the possible comparison. +

+ + +
+

+kolyi +(nf.) +‘± hoof, paw’ (?)
+[kolyi, -, -//] +Kertik näkṣātärne yäkweñña kolyi lykaśke wawaltsausa kercapaññe yasarsa ṣpärkaṣle ‘in kṛttikā a horse's hoof finely ground [is] to be dissolved in ass's blood’ (M-1b4/5), ṣat kolyi ‘a sliver of hoof’ (M-3b1). +‣Traditionally translated as ‘tail’ on the basis of the TchA equivalent kolye which appears as a hapax legomenon at A12b4, part of a short poetic passage where the author is describing a recumbent simulacrum of a lion: kliso pāccās poṣṣā to lap śālyiṃ kolyeyac ‘lying on its right side, its head on the left toward (or on) the kolye.’ It seems grammatically most natural to take śālyiṃ to be adjectival, modifying kolyeyac but if so kolye cannot mean ‘tail’ which, in any case, seems difficult anatomically. It would be better to see the lion's head as curled up on one of its paws. The two instances in B are also better translated similarly, as ‘hoof’ or the like, since ‘tail’ is neither pre-eminently grindable nor sliverable. Whether both A and B words meant ‘± clawed paw, hoof’ or the TchA word meant only ‘clawed paw’ while B meant ‘hoof’ is not to be decided. +∎Etymologically, it is possible that we have a putative PIE *golu-h₁en-, a derivative of *golu-. If so, it would be cognate with Germanic *klawō-/ klēwō- (f.) [: Old English clawu ‘claw, hoof’; or OHG klāwo ‘claw’]. One might wonder if Proto-Germanic *klawō- might not be from *kalwō- by metathesis. To do so would disassociate the Tocharian and Germanic words from PIE *gleu- ‘be curved’ (cf. P:361-363) but given the heterogeneous collection, both morphological and semantic, subsumed under that lemma, such a disassociation would not be too costly. (See Adams, 1987a:1-3 for semantic identification and etymology.) Hilmarsson suggests (H:164-166) that there is a relationship of the Tocharian words with OCS golěnь ‘leg.’ The Slavic might reflect *gol-oi-n- while the Tocharian might reflect *gol-y-en- or the like. This is an attractive hypothesis but seems semantically more difficult than the equation of the Tocharian words with the Germanic ones for ‘claw.’ +

+ + +
+

+kośa +‘?’
+kośa lykäśke pälsko waikesse 1 ṣe /// (117a6). +

+ + +
+

+kośagat +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘with the private parts concealed’
+yonmasta ceṃ śpālmeṃ lakṣāṃ goś[a]g[a]t [lege: kośagat] (74a2). +∎From BHS kośagata-. Antonym of apākśai, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+koṣkīye +(nf.) +‘± hut’
+[koṣkīye ~ koṣko, -, koṣkai//] +pwārṣṣai koṣkain[e yaptsi] ‘to enter into a fiery hut’ (100a4), rājavṛkṣa-stamatse arwāmeṃ koṣkīye yamaṣlya ‘from the wood of an R-tree a hut [is] to be made’ (M-3a6). +∎A loanword from Iranian. One should compare Pahlevi kwšk ‘part of a building,’ Modern Persian kušk or kōšk and the Georgian k’ošk’i ‘tower,’ also a loanword from Iranian (VW:627). +

+ + +
+

+Koṣṭhile +(n.) +‘Koṣṭhila’ (PN)
+[Koṣṭhile, -, -//] +(26b8). +

+ + +
+

+kos +(correlative pronoun) +‘as long as, as much as, etc.’; (interrogative pronoun) ‘how much, how long, etc.’
+[mäkte] kos tsaikaṃ lwaksātsaik aścemaṣṣeṃ [lege: lwaksātsaika= ścemaṣṣeṃ] bhājanta kautalñ=āke po toṃ ‘as the earthen vessels, as many as the potter makes, all of them [have their] end in destruction’ (3a2), kos saikaṃ ṣikont=e[r]k[e]nmaś | tot srūkalñe /// ‘as many steps one takes to the graveyard, [in] so much [one approaches] death’ (3b6), kos = BHS yāvat (22a3), kos cwi maiyy=aiśamñeṣṣa kos īndrinta tot lkāṣṣäṃ ‘as far as the power of his wisdom [reaches], as far as [his] senses, so far he sees’ (41b5), kos no cwi palskone tsmāntär krentauna | tot ṣpä po /// ‘as long as virtues increase in his spirit, so long ...’ (64a8), kos laukaññe ce wartton[e] /// ‘as far as [he is] in the forest’ (363a6), kos = BHS kiyāt (H-149.242a4 [Couvreur, 1966:169]). + -- kossa ‘id.’: mā tot ... kossa ... mā ‘solange nicht, bis nicht’ [kossa = BHS yāvatā] (107b10), kossa wärñai māka weṣṣäṃ = BHS yāvatā bahu bhāṣate (305b4); +
+kosau(k) ‘id.’ (only in negative clauses?): kosauk srukalyñeṣṣ=īme ma taśi-ne tot ma mrauskāte ‘as long as the thought of death did not touch him, so long did he not grow weary of the world’ (K-11b2), kosau = BHS yāvan [BHS clause is negative] (U-17a2). +∎AB kos reflect PTch *kos which must reflect some form of the ubiquitous relative/ interrogative pronoun *k^wo- but the exact preform is less clear than it might be. It may be *k^wot + (adverbial) -s, similar in form to the Italic *k^wuts that appears in Oscan puz ‘ut’ or, with the initial gone by misdivision, in Latin us-piam ‘anywhere,’ us-quam ‘anywhere, in any way, in any direction.’ (The suggestion of a PIE adverbial *-s in this word goes back, in embryo, to Duchesne-Guillemin [1941:170]). I assume that the final *-ts is simplified to *-s and then the *-s remains in a monosyllable (cf. Tocharian B wes ‘we,’ yes ‘you,’ and ṣkas ‘six’). If so, kos owes its vowel to tot, q.v.,--since *k^wots should have given B **kes and A **kas. That this kind of influence is possible from demonstrative to correlative pronoun is seen in the rare Tocharian B variant of kos, namely kot where the final -t is obviously modeled on that of tot. We might also note Tocharian A kospreṃne, a variant of kosne, which owes its second syllable to its correlative demonstrative täpreṃne. Another possibility might be PIE *k^weh_awot-s similar in formation to the Greek hēos from *yeh_awots and Sanskrit yāvat, though the thorough-going nt-stem in Sanskrit versus the lack of an *-n- in Greek is not well-explained. (As more distant comparanda we might look at Greek tẽmos ‘then, thereupon’ or OCS tamo ‘there’ with *-mo- rather than *-wo-.) A PIE *k^weh_awots would have regularly given early PTch *kowots which, in turn, would give B kos (MA:457). (In TchA we might have expected **kawas. Again the vowel would be from tot). Similarly a *teh_awot-u would have resulted in tot in both languages. +
+This connection is wrongly rejected by Van Windekens (1976:230-231) who takes kos to reflect a PIE *k^wo-sou (where the latter portion is the same as Tocharian B sū) and its correlative demonstrative tot to be from *to-tou (where the second portion is the equivalent of Tocharian B tū). He also takes the Tocharian B forms as borrowings from Tocharian A--an impossible solution to my mind as, inter alia, there is no tot attested in Tocharian A. Hilmarsson (1986a:43, 1987a:41, H:168-169) rightly objects to the nominative *so + u appearing in this adverbial formation. His suggestion is *k^wo-swō(s) with the same *swō(s) seen in the postpositive Homeric hōs (e.g. ísan órnithes hōs Γ 2). His solution is phonologically possible but does not explain kos's relationship with tot. He takes tot to be from what I think to be an impossible *to-dō. In any case his solution does not take into account the otherwise striking formal parallels that exist between relative pronouns and their correlative demonstratives in Tocharian (see further discussion at k_use). +See also kot, ket(e), and k_use. +

+ + +
+

+kosi* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cough’
+[-, kosintse, kosi//] +[r]aiwepi memīl[oṣe]pi ysārccepi kosintse ‘for a slow, damaging, bloody cough’ (497a4), in a list of maladies: kosi [] yäktāñmä [] - leñene (497a6). +∎(As if) from PIE *k^weh_as-u-en- (for the n-stem extension, see Adams, 1988d) and derived from PIE *k^weh_as- ‘cough’ [: Sanskrit kās- (f.) and kāsá- (m.) ‘cough,’ kāsate ‘he coughs,’ Albanian kollë ‘cough’ (< *k^weh_asleh_a-), Middle Irish cassacht, Welsh pas, Breton pas, Cornish paz, all ‘cough’ and all from *k^wh_as-t-, OHG huosto, Old English hwōsta, Old Norse hōsti, all ‘cough’ and all from *k^weh_as-t-on-, Lithuanian kósiu (Old Lithuanian kosmi) ‘cough,’ Latvian kāsẽju ‘id.,’ Lithuanian kosulýs, Latvian kãsulis and Russian Church Slavonic kašelь (< *kašьlь), all (noun) ‘cough’ (P:649; MA:133)]. The Balto-Slavic cognates provide the closest formal match to Tocharian, namely *k^weh_as-u-. +

+ + +
+

+kotstse* +(n.) +a species of bird [‘owl’?]
+[//-, kotstseṃts, -] +keṃtsa t[ane ñiś lyakau] kotstseṃts [or: kautstseṃts] parwa tat[w]ānkau mā-ket-rāññe ‘then I lie on the ground wearing [?] the feathers of a kotstse belonging to no one’ (89a4). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kau- +(vt.) +G ‘kill, strike down, destroy’; K ‘let someone kill’
+G Ps. VIII /kaus^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kauṣäṃ// -, -, kauseṃ; MP -, -, kauṣtär// -, kauṣtär, -; APart. kauṣeñca; MPPart. kausemane; Ger. kauṣalle]; Ko. I /kow- ~ kāw-/ [A -, -, kowäṃ//; Inf. kautsi]; Pt. III /kāw(sā)-/ [A kauwa, -, kowsa ~ kausa// kawam, -, -]; PP /kākāwu-/; +
+K Pt. III /śauwā-/ [A śauwa, -, -//] +māka wnolmeṃ kauseṃ ‘they kill many creatures’ (3a1), kauṣäṃ = BHS nudati (12a6), srukās entwe āṃtpi piś-känte cmelane kauṣträ ālyauce ‘you both died; in five hundred births you will kill one another’ (42a3=43b5), meleṃṣṣe indri cpi mā kauṣträ ‘his sense of smell is not destroyed’ (K-11a1), srukalñe kauṣeñca = BHS mṛtyuhantā (31a6), [aknātsaññe]ṣṣe orkamñe kauṣeñc[antse] = BHS ajñānatimiraghnasya (H-149.47b2 [Couvreur, 1966: 162]), kauṣeñca = BHS -ghna- (Y-2b1), kausem[ane] = BHS bhidyamānaḥ (36b1), aiśamñesa kauṣallona kleśanma = BHS jñānavaddhyā kleśā (200a4); [yoko kau]tisś etsuwai āśäṃ wnolmeṃ [kautsiś = BHS vadhāya] (11a8), kowän lwāsa ṣlyamñana ynamñana ‘[if] he kills flying or running animals [i.e. birds or animals]’ (29b8); kawam ṣañ ṣar[sa] /// ‘we killed with our own hand[s]’ (16b4), walo Māga[tṣe] yolaiṃ wāṣmots ṣeṣartu kausa pātär krent ‘the king of Magadha, incited by evil friends, killed [his] good father’ (TEB-64-12); kakawu po kleśa[nma pe]rn[e]rñe[sa] wīnas[k]au-[c] ‘having killed all kleśas I honor thee with splendor’ (203a3); mā walke kca epiṅte tsä[r]k[a]lyeṃ ka arañciṃ ceṃts ñiś śauwwa (266b1/2), passāmai ṣañ larenäṃ aswāre-ka śauwa-me ‘I flayed my loved ones and let them be killed untenderly’ (H-ADD.149.88b7 [Krause, 1952:187]). +‣The o-grade of kowäṃ and kowsa is an inner-Tocharian development of a new strong grade in -o- beside a "weak grade" in -ā-. See further discussion s.v. ār-. + -- kakāwormeṃ: tremeṃ kakāwo[rmeṃ] = BHS krodhaṃhatvā (U-13b3); +
+kāwälñe ‘killing’: kāwälñemeṃ päklautk[a] ‘turn from killing!’ (358b3). +∎TchA ko- and B kau- reflect PTch *kau- from PIE *keh_aw- ‘hew, strike’ [: OHG houwan, Old English hēawan ‘beat, hew,’ Lithuanian káuju ‘beat, strike; forge,’ OCS kovǫ ‘forge,’ and, more distantly Latin cūdō ‘beat, pound, thresh; forge, strike (of metals)’ (where -ū- rather than -au- is probably abstracted from compounds), TchB kaut- ‘split off, chop (down)’ (the last two enlarged by the present-forming suffix *-d^(h)e/o-) (P:535; MA:549)] (Fraenkel, 1932:222, VW:227-8). The Tocharian present, (as if) from PIE *keh_au-se/o-, is rather nicely matched by Avestan kušaiti ‘kills’ which is, itself, (as if) from PIE *kh_au-se/o-. (One might also compare TchA koṣt- ‘strike, kill by striking’ which reflects a putative PIE *keh_au-s-d^he/o-.) +See also kauṣenta and, more distantly, kaut-. +

+ + +
+

+kauke +(n.) +‘± call’
+[kauke, -, -//] +wasaṃnpātäṣ [sic; lege: -äś?] kauke ‘± call to ordination’ (KVāc-24b4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1986:94). +∎If the meaning is substantially correct, (as if) from PIE *ḱouko- and a derivative of kuk-¹, q.v. (cf. H:117). +

+ + +
+

+kauko* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, kauko//-, -, kaukoṃ (?)] +Suwarti kauko käryām k_uśāneṃtsa 700 ‘we bought S.'s kauko for 700 kuśānes’ (490-aII-2), Ṣolarki kaukoṃ/// [lege: kaukoṃ or kaukoṃta?] (490a-II-7). +∎If the meaning is something like ‘container’ we might compare this word to Latvian kaûss ‘ladle, scoop; skull,’ Lithuanian káušas ‘scoop; skull,’ and Sanskrit kóśa- (m.) ‘vessel, tub.’ +

+ + +
+

+kauc +(adv.) +‘high, up, above’
+kauc ka kaum [sic] [ṣai] pärkawo ‘the sun had risen high’ (5b3/4), kauc ette kluttankentär toṃ pwenta cākr ente spārtaṃ: k_us=ette tākaṃ kauc toṃ kluttankentär kaucmeṃ n_änok etteś ‘the spokes revolve up and down if the wheel turns; whichever are up, they revolve from up and again [revolve] downward’ (30b6/7), kauc bhavāgr [e]tt=āpiś ‘above [is] the highest existence, below [is] hell’ (45b4), mā kauc māka lkāskemane /// ‘[he is not to enter] with uplifted eyes’ (321a2), nauntaine klāya ... tumeṃ sā_u śem kauc ersate-ne ‘she fell in the street; then she came and raised her up’ (H-149.X.5a4/5 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), kauc yku[wermeṃ] = BHS utplutya (H-ADD.149.96b7 [Thomas, 1969:308]). + -- kaucū-wär ‘upstream’: se ṣamāne ... olyine ṣamäṃ kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat ... pāyti ‘[if] a monk is seated in a boat and guides the boat upstream or downstream, [it is] pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-b5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]); +
+kaucaṣṣe* ‘on high’: ñakt[i] kaucaṣy eṃṣke śāmnampa sak yāmtsi ke[ṃts]a ko[r]pyenträ ‘the gods on high descended unto the earth to work good fortune with men’ (PK-AS16.3b4 [Pinault, 1989:157]). +∎TchA koc and B kauc reflect PTch *keuc but extra-Tocharian connections are not altogether certain. Clearly PTch *keuc is related in some fashion to such words as Gothic hauhs ‘high’ (< *kou-ko-), Sanskrit kakúd- ‘summit, point,’ Latin cacūmen (nt.) ‘point, summit,’ Sanskrit kakúbh- (f.) ‘id.’ (already Lane, 1938:26, VW:228; cf. P:588ff. for a wide variety, in shape and meaning, of cognates or pseudocognates; MA:62). I think it possible that late PIE had an adverb *kou ‘± up, high’ from which various Indo-European groups made derivatives. In PTch *kew was combined with -c (identical with what was to be the allative ending in TchA). This *-c might be comparable Greek -then or the like. Hilmarsson suggests (H:116-117) a PIE *kou-ti-m. +See also enkaucar. +

+ + +
+

+Kauṇḍinye +(n.) +‘Kauṇḍinya’ (PN of a Buddha)
+[Kauṇḍinye, Kauṇḍinyentse, Kauṇḍinyeṃ//] +(386a3, 400a3. Qumtura 34-g5 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+kaut- +(vt.) +‘split off, break; chop up/down; crush’
+Ps. VI /kautnā-/ [AImpf. // -, -, kautanoṃ]; Ko. V /kāutā-/ [A // -, -, kautaṃ; MP -, -, kautatär//; AOpt. -, -, kautoy//; Inf. kautatsi]; Pt. Ib /kāutā-/ [A -, kautāsta, kauta//; MP -, -, kautāte// -, -, kautānte]; PP /kākāutā-/ +tsarkanoyeñ-c päkṣiyeñ-c āsta lykaśke kautanoñ-c ‘they tortured thee and cooked thee and chopped thy bones up fine’ (231a5); ṣañ ṣarsa kautoy ksa pat ce_u ‘he would rather crush that stupa with his own hand’ (15b4=17b6), cey nke laitkeṃ kautaṃ pyapyaiṃ taṃtsäskeṃ ‘they will chop down lianas and scatter flowers’ (589a3), vaśirṣai kektseñ kautatsiśco ‘to split the diamond body’ (H-ADD.149.62b3 [Couvreur, 1966:165]); ṣem kautāte koklentse waiptār pwenta käskānte ‘the wagon's axle broke and the spokes scattered all over’ (5a2), kauta pr[a]tin[ta tätt]āw[a] nauṣ ‘he broke the decisions earlier made’ (63b6). + -- kautalñe ‘breaking’: kautalñe = BHS bhedana (5a3), antsentso kautalñe = BHS skandhānāṃ nikṣepaṇaṃ (PK-NS-53-a4 [Pinault, 1988:100]). +∎TchA kot- and B kaut- reflect PTch *kaut- from PIE *keh_au-d^(h)e/o-, matched exactly by Latin cūdō ‘beat, pound, thresh; forge, strike (of metals)’ where the -ū- rather than *-au- is abstracted from compounds (Lane, 1938:26, VW:231-2; H:120-121). PIE *keh_au-d^(h)e/o- is *keh_au- ‘strike’ extended by the present forming suffix *-d^(h)e/o-. See further discussion s.v. kau-. +See also akautatte, kautātstse, kau-, and probably koto. +

+ + +
+

+kautātstste * +(adj.) +‘± breakable, having a crack’
+[f: -, -, kautātstsai//] +sapulempa menāk ksa [lege: menāksa] karsoym kektseñ kautātstsai ‘may I know my breakable body [to be] like a pot’ (S-5a3). +∎An adjectival derivative of kaut-. +

+ + +
+

+kauṃ +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘sun’; (b) ‘day’
+[kauṃ, kaunantse ~ kauntse, kauṃ//kauñī, kaunaṃts, kaunäṃ ~ kauṃ] +(a) kauc ka kaum [sic] [ṣai] pärkawo ‘the sun had risen high’ (5b3/4), samudtärnta kätkron=epinkte kaunts=osonträ ... [k]auṃ meñe ściri ‘the deep oceans in between are dried up by the sun ... sun, moon, and stars’ (45b7), kaunaṃtse ramt swa[ñcaiñ] ‘like the rays of the sun’ (74a3), kaunänts[e] pärkorne wawākauwa piltāsa ‘petals [that had] unfolded at sunrise’ (PK-NS-12K-b2 [Winter, 1988: 788]); +
+(b) kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne ‘in the passing of days and months’ (3b5), walw alokälymi lyama ṣuk-kauṃ epiṅte ‘the king sat elsewhere [for] a period [of] a week’ (22a6), tam tot śwātsi star-ñ kauṃ ś[aitsiś] ‘this is sufficient food for me to live for a day’ (25a7). + -- kaunaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a day’: ñake no śtarce kaunaṣṣepi kapilletse sātke weñau ‘now I will talk of the remedy for the fourth day fever’ (P-1b1/2); +
+kauṃ-kläsko ‘west’: kom-kläskomeṃ [sic] ‘from the west’ (Otani-19.1 [Winter, 1988:789]); +
+kauṃ-parki* ‘sunrise’ (90b5); +
+kauṃ-pirko* ‘east’ [cf. TchA kom-pirkānt ‘east’]: kälymiṃ läkāṣyeṃ cey kom-pirkomeṃ ipprerne ka ṣ lyakār-ne ‘they were looking [in all] directions; and then they saw him in the sky [coming] from the east’ [Winter, 1988:777] (108b5); +
+kauṃ-pirkoṣṣe* ‘eastern’: kauṃ-pirkoṣṣaine = BHS pūrvasyāṃ (527b3); +
+kauṃ-yaptsi ‘sunset’ (PK-AS-18B-a1 [Pinault, 1984b:376]); +
+kauṃ-yänmālle ‘id.’ (PK-NS-49b3 [Winter, 1988:788]); +
+kaun-yaṣi ‘[for] a day and a night; day and night’: oktace saṃvarne stmoṣ kaun-yaṣi ‘standing day and night in the eighth saṃvāra’ (15a6=17a7). +∎A koṃ and B kauṃ reflect PTch *kāun from a putative PIE verbal abstract *kauni- (*keh_auni-) ‘± burning heat (as of the sun)’ or perhaps the homophonous adjective ‘burning (one)’ (the fact that the Tocharian word would appear to be masculine might argue that it was a nominalized adjective rather than an abstract in origin). In either case we would have a derivative of *keh_au- ‘burn’ [: Greek kaíō ‘burn’ (< *kawyō), aorist ékēa (< *ékēwa < *ékāwa), kaûma ‘burning heat (of the sun),’ Lithuanian kū̃lės] ‘ergot, smut’ (‘Brandpilze, Staubbrand des Getreides’), kūlėti ‘become blighted’ (‘brandig werden’) (P:595; MA:88, though both should show unpalatalized initial k-)]. The nom. sg. *kaunis, nom. pl. *kauneyes, and acc. pl. *kaunins would give kauṃ, kauñi, and kau(nä)ṃ respectively since a (PIE) *-i- was retracted before an *-s- and thus caused no palatalization (Adams, 1988c:15). The acc. sg. kauṃ is analogical. This etymology goes back, in nuce, to Smith (1910:10) and was revived in 1963 by Winter (cf. VW:627), though the morphological details are very different. So also with a different morphological explanation is H:118-119. +
+Not with Pedersen (1944:11, also VW:626-7) a borrowing from Turkish gün ‘sun.’ To have given both A koṃ and B kauṃ, the borrowing would have had to have been of PTch in date. So early a date might itself rule out the Turks on geographical grounds. In any case there is no reason *gün would have given anything but PTch **kin or **kun. Winter's suggestion of a borrowing in the opposite direction is no more plausible. +See also kauṃ-ñäkte, komt, and ynkauṃ. +

+ + +
+

+kauṃ-ñäkte +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sun, sun-god’
+[kauṃ-ñäkte, -, -/kauṃ-ñäktene, kauṃ-ñäktenaisäñ, -/kauṃ-ñäkti, kauṃ-ñäkteṃts, -] +kaum-ñäkte [] kom-ñiktene [sic] [] ko[m-ñäkti] = BHS vibhrāṭ [] vibhrājau [] vibhrāja (550a3), poyś[i]ññeṃ kauñäktentso pärkālñe ‘the rising of the Buddha-suns’ (S-6b6), [in Manichean script] kvm///ktynz/// (Winter/Gabain:10). +∎A compound of kauṃ + ñäkte, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+kaumiye +(nf.) +‘pool, pond’
+[kaumiye, kaumaintse, kaumai//kaumaiñ, -, -] +wrotsana ckenta kaumaiño ... kaunts=osonträ ‘great rivers and pools are dried up by the sun’ (45b7), kaumaintse petwesa ‘on the bank of the pool’ (623b6). +∎Etymology unknown. At various times VW suggested connections with kaut- ‘split’ and PIE *ǵ^heu- ‘pour’ but neither is very satisfying semantically (see VW:190). Hillmarsson diffidently suggests (H:118) a derivation from PIE *ǵ^heh_au- ‘open wide’ as in Gk kháos ‘chaos.’ +

+ + +
+

+kaume* +(n.) +‘(fresh) shoot’
+[//-, -, kaumeṃ] +/// [mā] snai ke_umeṃ ñyäkcyāna [sic] ramt stāna Nandaṃ wärttone (275a1), kaumeṃtsa rera[ko]ṣäṃ ‘covered with fresh shoots’ (563b8). +∎TchA kom and B kaume reflect PTch *keume (as if) from PIE *koudmo-, a derivative of *(s)keud- ‘shoot, throw’ [: Sanskrit códati ‘drives, hastens,’ Albanian hedh ‘throw’ (< *skeudō), Old Norse skjōta ‘shoot, shove,’ Old English scēotan ‘shoot, throw; dash forward,’ OHG sciozan ‘throw, shoot, move quickly,’ Middle High German hossen ‘run quickly,’ etc. (P:956; MA:581)]. Particularly compelling semantically are such deverbal nouns in Germanic as English shoot (VW:229). +

+ + +
+

+Kauravye +(n.) +‘Kauravya’ (PN of a king)
+[Kauravye, -, -//] +(3a7). +

+ + +
+

+kau_urṣe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘bull’
+[-, -, *kau_urṣ (cf. infra) (voc. kau_urṣu)//-, kau_urṣäṃts, -] +täñ ce rṣākäññeṣṣu kaurṣu = BHS tavevam [lege: tavedam] ṛṣ[ipungava] (251b6), kaurṣäṃts lānte ‘of the king of bulls’ (256a4). + -- kau_urṣa-pkai ‘having a chowrie [bull's tail]’: saiwaisa no Mahiśvare märkwactsa tañ kau_urṣa-pkai ‘on thy left thigh the chowried M.’ (74b5). +∎Tch kayurṣ and B kau_urṣe reflect PTch *keuwärṣän- (in A -ayu- is regular from *-awu- by dissimilation of glide and vowel [Normier, 1980:266] just as -awi- is regular from *-ayi- in the optative skawiṣ from ske- ‘try’) from PIE *g^wou-wṛsen- ‘cow-male’ just as in Sanskrit go-vṛṣa- ‘bull’ (so Schneider, 1940:195-6, VW:191, with differing details). +See also ke_u. +

+ + +
+

+kauśikäññe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the Kauśika family’
+[kauśikäññe, -, -//] +(350b3). +∎An adjective derived from *Kauśike ‘member of the Kauśika family’ which, in turn, is from BHS kauśika-. +

+ + +
+

+kauṣenta +(n.) +‘murderer’
+[kauṣenta, -, kauṣentai//kauṣentañ, kauṣentaṃts, -] +kauṣentañ kr_ui onolmi māka ‘if many creatures [are] murderers’ (K-8a6), kauṣentai ra sanaṃne ‘murderer and enemy’ (S-4b3). +∎A nomen agentis from the present stem of kau-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Kausal* +(n.) +‘Kosala’ (PN of a city and country)
+[-, -, Kausal//] +(22a6). + -- Kausalṣe (adj.) ‘prtng to Kosala’ (18b7); (n.) ‘inhabitant of Kosala’ (21a7). +

+ + +
+

+kca +(indefinite pronominal adjective) +‘some, any’ [oblique of ksa, q.v]
+mā ñiś kc=ālyek cot [lege: tot] nrai lkāsko [lege: lkāskau] wrocce ‘I see no other hell so great’ (17a6), mā tañ kc=āyor aille nesau ‘I am not to give thee any gift’ (23b5), [mā] ñiś caukamai kca mā ra walāmai kca mā ttsa yāmṣamai ‘I did not hide anything, nor did I uncover anything, I did nothing at all’ (27b8), ce compä kca ṣarmtsa ‘on account of this or that’ (31b2), [a]lanmeṃ kca ‘from wherever’ (50a7), k_uce [k]ca yāmäṃ ‘whatever he should do’ (63b7), oṣle pākre klainämpa kca treṅsate ‘midnight and noon he hung on some woman or other’ (69a2), k_uce kca klyauṣi tuk klyeñci ‘whatever he would hear, he would doubt it’ (A-4a6). +∎Acc. of ksa, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ktakät +(n.) +‘(contemptuous) finger gesture’
+[k_use ṣa]m[ā]n[e] ṣamāneṃ ktakät yamaṣäṃ ‘whatever monk makes a finger gesture to another monk’ (H-149.311a1 [H:186]). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+ktumñcik +See kutumñcik. +

+ + +
+

+knents +(it would appear to be the genitive plural of a noun *kane) +‘?’
+[po]staññe knents [s]aim [m]ā tākaṃ-ne (326a1). +

+ + +
+

+knerwanta +(n.? [f. pl.]) +‘?’
+knerwanta atstsenta (K-8b5). +

+ + +
+

+kmut* +(n.) +‘white water lily’ [Nymphea esculenta]
+[//kmutänta, -, -] +[u]ppālntasa tseññana kmutäntas=ārkwina (588a3). +∎From BHS kumuda-. +

+ + +
+

+kraketstse +See krāke. +

+ + +
+

+kranko +(n.) +‘chicken’
+[kranko, -, -//] +kranko = BHS kukkuṭa [in the calendrical animal cycle] (549a5). + -- kränka(i)ññe ‘prtng to a chicken’: kränkañe weṃṣiye ‘chicken excrement’ (P-1b3). +∎Kranko presupposes a PTch *kränkān- ~ *kränkā-i̯än- a derivative of PIE *krenk- ‘± make a loud noise’ [: Old English hringan ‘ring, sound, clash,’ Modern English ring, Old Nornse hrang ‘noise, clash,’ Lithuanian krankiù ‘croak, caw,’ Russian krjáchat' ‘groan, moan, crash, roar’ (P:568-569; MA:267)] (VW, 1941:45, 1976: 232-233). This *krenk- is a nasalized variant of *krek- (cf. Sanskrit kṛkara-, krakara- ‘a kind of partridge,’ Latin crōcīre ~ crōcāre ‘croak, caw,’ etc. [P:568]). A similar semantic development, *‘noise-maker’ > ‘cock’ is of course seen in German Hahn ‘cock,’ related to Latin canere ‘sing.’ Khotanese kṛnga- ~ krriṃga- ‘cock’ must reflect a borrowing from Tocharian B. +

+ + +
+

+krāke +(nnt.) +‘dirt, filth (e.g. semen)’
+[krāke, -, krākesa//-, -, krakenta] +k_use sw aśāw=omte yare krāke wat kärweñi ‘that which is rough here [is] gravel, dirt, or stones’ (7a7), krāk=añmantse = BHS malam ātmanaḥ (7b2), kwipe-ike ke_uwco kaltärr-ne tu maśne enkastär nuskaṣṣäṃn-ne ... krāke län-ne sanghā-trän[k]ä kätänkäṃ ‘[if] his shame-place [= penis] stand high and he takes it in [his] fist and squeezes it and filth emerges, [then] he commits a sanghā-sin’ (334a3-5), klaiññe krāke ‘menstrual discharge’ (522a4). + -- kraketstse ‘dirty, filthy’: śokagārne yopsa krakacce wassi au[su] ‘he entered into the bedroom wearing dirty clothing’ (99a1). +∎AB krāke reflect PTch *krāke, probably (with VW:627) a borrowing from Khotanese khārgga- ‘id.’ with metathesis. Less likely on phonological grounds is Pisani's suggestion (1942-43a:26) of a connection with Greek kópros, Sanskrit śákṛt, etc. Also unlikely is Hilmarsson's suggestion (H:173) of a relationship with Middle Irish gráin ‘disgust’ and Welsh graen ‘anxiety, disgust’ +See also kärkkālle. +

+ + +
+

+krāñi +(n.) +‘(nape of the) neck’
+[krāñi, -, krāñi (?)//] +/// k[r]āñine [?] (44b7), meleṃne laklese muka panku krāñi wicūkaine pokaine āśne eśanane korne klautsaine sark alāskemane [panku krāñi ‘a stiff neck’ = BHS manyā-] (Y-2a3/4). +‣The meaning is that given by Sieg (1954); see also Adams, 1983b. +∎Tocharian B krāñi is phonologically the exact equivalent of Greek krāníon ‘(top of the) head,’ both reflect a PIE *ḱrh₂sníyom. In Tocharian the laryngeal is vocalized to *-a- when following a resonant and preceding two or more consonants (as in kroriya ‘horn,’ q.v., but unlike the case with karse ‘deer,’ q.v., where the laryngeal was followed by but one consonant) and the *-s- subsequently disappears when before a resonant (again as in kroriya and also in the enclitic third person plural pronoun [TchB] -me from PIE *-ṇsmó and *-usmó; cf. Adams, 1988c:38). PIE *ḱrh₂sníyom is a derivative of *ḱrh₂sn-, the base of the weak cases of the word for ‘head’ (cf. Sanskrit śīrṣ(a)n- and Greek krā(h)at-). Semantically Tocharian shows a development ‘top of the head’ > ‘occiput’ > ‘nape (of the neck).’ The exact equivalence of the Greek and Tocharian words would seem to exclude the hypothesis that the case *ḱṛh₂s-n- was independently created in post Indo-European times (as Nussbaum, 1986, would have it). For the etymology, see Adams, 1991b:7-9; MA:260. With differing details H:175. +

+ + +
+

+krāt- +(vt.) +‘± challenge’ (?)
+PP /kākrātäṣṣu-/ +Tiṣyentse kakrātäṣu Māṭhare pä^.y^.yä^./// ‘M., challenged by T.’ (110a8). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, krāt- reflects a PIE *g^hrōd-, seen elsewhere only in Germanic [: Old English grētan ‘greet, salute, accost, challenge’ (< Proto-Germanic *grōtyan-), OHG gruozen ‘id.’ Old Norse grȫta ‘make weep’ (P:439)] (VW:234). The resemblance between Tocharian and Germanic in this case is remarkable. This *g^hrēd- is an élargissement of *g^her- whose derivatives denote various kinds of noises (P:439). +

+ + +
+

+krānt* ~ granth +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘artificial arrangement of words, text, work, śloka’
+[krānt, -, krānt//] +(200b2). +∎From BHS grantha-. +

+ + +
+

+krāmär +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘weight, heaviness’
+[krāmär, -, krāmär//] +po kektseñiṣṣe [sic] krāmärsa ‘with the whole weight of the body’ (332.1b3). + -- kramartstse* ‘heavy, weighty’: kektseñe krarma[rtsa] [sic] ‘a heavy body’ (78b4), kramarcce yolaiṃ y[ā]m[o]r ‘the heavy, evil deed’ (424b4); +
+kramartsäññe ‘heaviness, difficulty’: kramart[säñ]ñ[e] ostmeṃ lalyñeṣ[ṣe] ‘the difficulty of leaving the house [i.e. becoming a monk]’ (34b6), kramartsäṃññe = BHS gurutva- (Y-3a4). +∎TchA *krāmär (whose former existence at least is attested in the derived adjective krāmärts [= B kramartse]) and B krāmär reflect PTch *krāmär from a (putative) PIE *g^wréh_a-mṛ ‘heaviness,’ an abstract noun derived from *g^wrh_a-u- ‘heavy’ [: Sanskrit gurú-, Avestan gouru-, Greek barú-, Latin gravis, all ‘heavy’ (P:476; MA:264)]. In formation this putative *g^wreh_a-mṛ is similar to that seen in Sanskrit garimán- (m.) ‘heaviness, weight’ (< *g^worh_a-mén-). See Meillet and Lévi, 1911:149, VW:233-234, H:173-174, though the details differ. +

+ + +
+

+krās- +(vt.) +‘torment’
+G "Intensive" Pt. /krāṣiyā-/ [MPImpf. -, -, kraṣīyate//] (HMR3 [K]); Pt. Ib /krāsā-/ [A -, -, krāsa//]; +
+K Ps. IXb /krāsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, krāsäṣṣäṃ//; MP -, -, krasäṣṣītär] +retke ṣālla Kauṣalets räskre krāsa tu Pra[saṃ]nakeṃ /// ‘he threw down the army of the Kausalans; it vexed P. very much’ (21a7), krasā-ñ klaiññe camel ‘the female birth [= birth as a female] vexed me’ (400b1/2); mā cew yoko krāsäṣṣäṃ ṣekä ‘thirst does not always torment him’ (K-10b2), tusa krasäṣṣīträ mantañīträ ‘thus he tormented him and became evil’ (H-149.200b3 [Thomas, 1972b:456]). +∎AB krās- reflect PTch *krās- probably (with VW, 1941:45, 1976:234) a lengthened grade intensive (or possibly a PIE o-grade intensive with *o > ā by ā-umlaut from the next syllable and the resultant ā generalized throughout the paradigm) from PIE *g^hres- ‘± threaten, torment’ otherwise seen only in Baltic [: Lithuanian gresiù ‘threaten, menace,’ gristù ‘be disgusted with,’ grasà ‘threat,’ grasinù ‘threaten,’ Latvian grasāt ‘threaten’ (P:445, with some other very dubious cognates; MA:577)]. The Latvian grasāt might be the exact equivalent of the putative *krāsā- that lies behind the attested Tocharian paradigm. Also possible is Hilmarsson's suggestion (H:176-177) that this Tocharian word reflects a PIE *kroh_xs- otherwise seen in Old Norse hro/ra ‘move, stir; touch,’ Old English hrēran ‘id.,’ OHG hruoren ‘id.’ but the semantic equation is less compelling. +See also krāso. +

+ + +
+

+krāso +(n.) +‘± vexation, torment’
+[krāso, -, -//-, -, krasonta] +/// kalṣäṃ krāso anaiktai ‘he endures an unknown torment’ (386b4), [te]ki mentsi krasonta proskai /// ‘sickness, grief, torments, fear’ (512b1). +∎A nominal derivative of krās-. The identical TchA krāso must be a borrowing from B (VW:234). +

+ + +
+

+krätayuk +only attested in the compound krätayuk-preścīyo ‘kṛtayuga-time’
+(PK-AS16.2b2 [Pinault, 1989:155]). +∎Like TchA krätayuk in the compound krätayuk-praṣt from BHS *kṛtayuga- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+krätaññe +(adj.) +‘± active, beneficial’ (?)
+[m: krätaññe, -, -//] +///śśiyu prākkre krätaññe ṣañ arañce bodhisatveṃts kartse waṣamo (600b4). +∎The semantic identification is predicated on this being an adjectival derivative of a Tocharian borrowing of BHS kṛta- (nt.) ‘deed, action, benefit.’ +

+ + +
+

+krätatñe +‘?’
+/// [yo]lo=pe waṃt [sic] yamor krätatñe su /// (555a5). +

+ + +
+

+krätājñeṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Kṛtajña’ (previous incarnation of the Buddha)
+[m: //krätājñeṣṣi, -, -] +(H-149.240b1 [Couvreur, 1964:243]). +∎An adjective derived from an unattested *Krätājñe ‘Kṛtajña.’ +

+ + +
+

+krämp- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be disturbed’; K ‘disturb; check, put a stop to’
+G Ps. III /krämpe-/ [MP -, -, krämpetär//; MPImpf. -, -, krämpitär//]; Ko. V /krämpā-/ (see abstract); Pt. Ia /krämpā-/ [A -, krämpāsta, -//]; PP /krämpo-/; +
+K Ps. VIIIb /krämps^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kram(p)ṣäṃ//]; Ko. II /kräm^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. kramtsi]; Pt. III /kremp(s)ā-/ [A // -, -, krempär] +yolo pkwalle yolaiṃmeṃ ṣek mā twe krämpetär ‘evil [is] always to be expected from evil, do not be disturbed’ (23b8), mā twe ceṃne krämpitär mā ra palsko kulyitär-ś ‘thou wert never disturbed about them nor did thy spirit fail’ (231a5); cai sklokacci krämpoṣ cewne pkänte-pilko mäskentär ‘they were doubtful, disturbed and looked askance at him’ (17b5); /// cwi kramṣäṃ tsirauñe ‘he puts a stop to his energy’ (15b7), kramṣäṃ sū wnolmets makāts pälskonta ‘he disturbs the thoughts of many beings’ (17b2); ot rano yā[taṃ] kramtsy^./// ‘[if] then he can put a stop to [it]’ (35b5); [a]marṣsa Jaṃbudvipṣeṃ lantäṃts po krempär warkṣäl ‘they checked, out of resentment, all the energy of the J. kings’ (PK-13E-b8 [Couvreur, 1954c:87-88]). + -- krämpālñe ‘± disturbance’ (94a2); +
+krämpālñeṣṣe ‘prtng to disturbance’: [krä]mpālñeṣṣe abhiprāy[s]a ‘with a disturbing opinion’ (329b3); +
+-krämpālñetstse ‘± having a disturbance’: snai-krämpālyñetse = BHS anapagraham (251b2). +∎VW (1941:44, 1976:234) points to a nice semantic equation with Old English hremman ‘hinder, cumber’ but hremman, and Old Norse hremma ‘take, squeeze’ (cf. P: 623), must be from Proto-Germanic *hramya- and such a form does not explain the -p- of Tocharian. Hilmarsson's comparison (H:174) with Old Norse kreppa ‘contract, tighten, check’ and OHG krimpfan ‘contract, shrink,’ English crimp is much better phonologically. From (dialectal) PIE *gremb-. +

+ + +
+

+kritāṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘amusement, sport’ (?)
+[-, -, kritāṃ//] +ce_u kritāntsa ñake ṣṣe[k] kärstā s[n]ai /// (250a3). +∎If from BHS krīḍana- (VW:1978a:160). Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985b:134), however, would see in this word a Middle Iranian borrowing (< *kirtan < *kṛtanai ‘work, do’). +

+ + +
+

+kriyālakṣaṃ +(n.) +‘mark of working’
+[kriyālakṣaṃ -, -//] +(197b6). +∎From BHS kriyālakṣaṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+kre ̇e +(n.) +‘permission, leave’
+plāksatai-me kre ̇e ‘didst thou ask them [scil. thy parents] permission [to become a monk]?’ (KVāc.-19b4 [K. T. Schmidt, apud H:179]). +

+ + +
+

+krentauna +(n.[f. pl. tant.]) +‘virtues’
+[//krentauna, krentaunaṃts, krentauna] +pälskoṣṣana krentauna ‘spiritual virtues’ (15a8=17b2), yolomeṃ āltsiś krentauna[ne rittässiś] ‘in order to turn [them] away from evil and to make them embrace virtues’ (21a1), krentaunasa ācce = BHS kalyāṇakalilam (251b6), krentaunaṃtso = BHS guṇānām (H-149.47a3 [Couvreur, 1966:162]), Winter/Gabain:13 ([in Manichean script] kryntvmn’z’). + -- krentaunaṣṣe ‘prtng to virtues’: [kakraupa]rmeṃ krentaunaṣṣana pya[ppy]aiṃ = BHS pracīya guṇapuṣpāṇi (PK-NS-414b2 [Couvreur, 1966:170]); +
+krentaunatstse ‘virtuous, having virtues’ (19a5). +∎A nominal derivative of krent- ‘good.’ +See kartse. +

+ + +
+

+krepaste* +(nm.) +‘± (small) ball, lump’
+[//-, -, krepasteṃ] +iñcuwaññeṃ krepaste[ntsa] [krepastentsa = BHS guḍābhi] (529b5), eñcuwañeṃ pälkoṣäṃ krepastaṃ [lege: -eṃ] ‘glowing iron balls’ (KVāc.-15b3 [K. T. Schmidt, 1986:79, 132]). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kremīya +(n.) +a plant part
+[kremīya, -, -//] +erkäntse yasoñña kremīya tsänkanta pyāpyo ‘the sap of the arka-plant, the kremīya, shoots, and flower’ (W-5a6). +

+ + +
+

+kremot* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, kremot//] +kremotsa āśne yamaṣälle ‘with a kremot [it is] to be put on the head’ (W-37a3). +‣A compound kre-mot whose second member is mot ‘alcohol’ (cf. W-3a3 motstsa āśne yamaṣṣälle)? +

+ + +
+

+kretswe* +(n.) +‘± rag’
+[-, -, kretswe//] +ṣamānentse yśel[mi pä]lskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kaltärr-ne [sic] tu kretswesa yaṣtär ‘[if] sexual desires should arise to a monk and his "shame-place" stand tall and he should stimulate it with a rag’ (334b2/3). +∎TchA kratsu and B kretswe reflect PTch *kretswe but extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. VW:233 suggests a connection with PIE *ker-t- ‘cut’; H:180-181 a PIE preform *krod^hiwo- and compares Sanskrit kṛdhú- ‘stumped, shortened’ (comparative kradhīyas-), where *(s)kred^h- is presumably an élargissement of *(s)ker- ‘cut.’ +

+ + +
+

+kro(n)kśe* +(n.) +‘bee’
+[-, -, kro(n)kś//-, kro(n)kśäṃts, -] +krokśäṃts weśeñña māka ‘the sound of many bees’ (571b4), mäkte kroṅśaṃts cäñcarñe pyāpyai warssi ‘as [it is] the pleasure of bees to smell a flower’ (S-5a2). +∎Though obviously related to TchA kronkśe ‘id.,’ probably because the A word has been borrowed from B, the etymology is otherwise uncertain. There seems to be no phonologically easy way (*ḱṛh₂snukuken-?) to derive this word from the same source as its traditional congeners, Latin crābrō, English hornet, etc., namely *ḱrh₂sro-on- (cf. Schrader/Nehring, 1929: 654). Neither is it phonologically likely that we have a borrowing from some language similar to Tibetan sbrang ‘bee,’ Khmer srăng ‘wasp’ (VW:628). Hilmarsson (1986a:35-37, H:181-182; MA:271) suggests a connection with Proto-Germanic *huna(n)ga- ‘honey’ [: Old Norse, hunang, OHG honang, Old Danish honning, Middle Dutch honinch] ~ *hunaga- [: OHG honag ~ honig, Old English hunig, Old Danish honnig, Middle Dutch honich, and the Germanic loanword in Finnish hunnaja-] and Sanskrit kāñcaná- ‘gold(en),’ Greek knēkós (Doric knākós) ‘yellowish,’ Latin canicae ‘a kind of bran,’ and Old Prussian cucan ‘brown’ (all < *knh_ankó-, cf. P:564-565). Hilmarsson's pre-Tocharian *knh_aonkōn, however, requires the second *-n- which otherwise only appears sporadically in Germanic, as well as some very complicated phonological change in Tocharian. His suggestion is ingenious but uncertain. +

+ + +
+

+Krodhavārg* +(n.) +‘Krodhavarga’ (a section of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Krodhavārg//] +(313b1). +

+ + +
+

+krorīya * +(n.) +‘horn’
+[-, -, krorīyai//] +tarnene krorīyai śuk[ly]ā/// ‘the bright horn on the top of the head’ (580b4). +∎TchA kror, only attested in the meaning ‘crescent [i.e. horn] of the moon’ and B krorīya reflect a PTch *kror. B krorīya has been subject to further derivation (cf. the relationship between A ytār ‘way, path’ and B ytārye). PTch *kror is a derivative of PIE *ḱṛh₂s-r- ‘horn’ [: Mycenean (masculine) -karaor ‘-horned,’ in seremo-karaor (whose first element is obscure) and ono-karaor (= oino-krāhōr) ‘one-horned’ and its alphabetic Greek analog (where only the feminine is attested), -kraira ‘-horned’ representing PIE *-ḱṛh₂sor- and *-ḱṛh₂srih_a- (Nussbaum 1986:222-34)]. Outside of Greek there are a number of words for ‘hornet’ that appear to presuppose a related (late) PIE *ḱṛh₂sr-ó- ‘horned’ [: Latin crābrō (< *ḱṛh₂sro-on-), Lithuanian širšlỹs (< *ḱṛsh₂ro- with dissimilation to *ḱṛsh₂lo-), Germanic *hur(z)nut-/ hur(z)nat- with -n- from *hurna- ‘horn,’ Lithuanian širšuõ, OCS sьršenь (again < *ḱṛh₂sro-on- with dissimilatory loss of the second -r-), etc. (Nussbaum, 1986:248-60)]. This (neuter) *ḱṛh₂sṛ ‘horn,’ extended by the *-u which is apparently routinely added to neuter r-stems in pre-Tocharian (cf. tarkar ‘cloud,’ plural tärkarwa, which must reflect an old verbal abstract in *-ṛ), is reflected in TchA kror (i.e. *ḱṛh₂sru > *krasru > *kraru (s disappears between vowel and resonant; cf. krāñi) > *kroru (by u-umlaut) > kror). For the etymology, see Adams, 1991b:5-7; MA:272. Alternatively, Hilmarsson (H:182, with references to his previous work) connects the Tocharian words with Armenian eɫjiwr ‘horn,’ taking both the Tocharian and Armenian to reflect a PIE *g^hreh₁wṛ. +

+ + +
+

+kroś* +(n.) +‘kos’ (an Indian linear measure of about two miles)
+[-, -, kroś//] +steyasaṃ yaṃ pāyti [] ywārtstsa krośne duṣkär ‘[if] he goes with a thief, pāyti; [if he goes with him] under half a kos, duṣkar’ (330a5/b1). +∎From BHS krośa-. +

+ + +
+

+krośce +(adj.) +‘cold’
+[m: krośce, -, kroścäṃ//krości (?), -, -] [f: // kroścana, -, -] +kroścana toṃ nrainta skente okt ‘there are eight cold hells’ (18b5), kroścaṃ warś ce_u yolmene yänmaskeṃ ‘they enter into the pond with cold water’ (29a6), krośce war snai-märkarcce = BHS śītatoyam anāvilam (H-149.112 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:493]). +∎TchA (acc. sg.) krośśäṃ and B krośce (acc. sg. kroścäṃ) reflect PTch (nom. sg.) *krośce, acc. sg. kroścänä, (as if) from PIE hysterokinetic *krustēn, krusténṃ. The vowel -o- is generalized from the nom. sg. *krústōn or *kréustō where PIE *-u- or *-eu- would regularly give -o- by back vowel umlaut (subsequently the descendant of *-ēn displaced the reflex of *-ōn). Its nearest relative is Greek krustaínomai ‘am congealed with cold, freeze’ (cf. also krustállos ‘ice; numbness; crystal,’ krūmós ‘icy cold, frost’ (< *krusmó-), krúos (nt.) ‘id.’ (< *krúsos-) (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:155; VW:236). Outside of Greek we have Latin crusta ‘crust,’ Latvian kruvesis ‘frozen mud,’ OHG hroso ‘ice, crust’ (P:621-622; MA:112-113). If the PIE root was *k^wrus- (and pre-Greek *k^wru- would have given kru- rather than *pru-), it is possible that the difficult nom. sg. k_uraś in TchA belongs here too. A PTch *k^wrośce would, with loss of final vowels, have given *k^wrośc. Being word initial in a monosyllable the *k^wr- was retained and subsequently the *-o- was dissimilated to -a-, just as in kuryar when compared to B karyor. +See also kroścaññe and krostaññe. +

+ + +
+

+kroścaññe +(n.) +‘cold(ness)’
+[kroścaññe, -, -//] +arkwiññe krośśaññe = BHS śvetatvaśītatva- (Y-3a4). +∎A nominal derivative of krośce, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+krośśeññe +‘?’
+/// krośśeññe auṣap etsuwai o/// (196a1). +∎Is this a variant of kroścaññe? +

+ + +
+

+krostaññe +(n.) +‘cold(ness)’
+[krostaññe, -, -//] +pwārmeṃ laṃññi krostaṃñe ‘[even if] cold should emerge from the fire’ (100b2). + -- krostañaṣṣe ‘prtng to the cold, cold’ (197b5). +∎A nominal derivative of krośce, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+kraup- +(vt.) +G ‘gather, amass; herd’; K ‘gather, accumulate’
+G ⁽¹⁾Ps. II /kreup^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, krauptär; MPImpf. // -, -, kraupiyentär; MPPart. kraupemane]; ⁽²⁾Ps. VI /krāupnā-/ [A -, -, kraupnaṃ//; MP -, -, kraupnatär// -, -, kraupnantär; Ger. kraupanalle]; Ko. II (= ¹Ps.) [MP -, -, krauptär// -, -, kraupentär]; Ko. V /krāupā-/ [MP // -, -, kraupantär; MPOpt. -, -, kraupoytär//; Inf. kraupatsi; Ger. kraupalle]; Pt. Ib /krāupā-/ [MP -, kraupātai, kraupāte// -, -, kraupānte]; PP /kākrāupā-/; +
+K Pt. IV /kraupäṣṣā-/ [A -, -, kraupäṣṣa// -, -, kraupäṣṣare] +lyakäṃ kr[au]pträ snai-pewaṃ wi-pewaṃ śtwer-pewaṃ makā-pewaṃ ‘he gathers up thieves, the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, and the many-footed’ (H-149-ADD.8b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:93]), ṣaḍvarginta patraiṃ māka kraupiyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvargikas were gathering many alms-bowls’ (337b4), [kre]wpemane (304a4); [a]lyaik no kraupnanträ śānta kewaṃ [sic] śaitsisa ‘others, however, herd sheep or cattle in order to live’ (H-149- ADD.28a5 [Thomas, 1954:756]), tusa tarya pelaiknenta po spelkesa kraupanallona wnolments= aiśmopi ‘thus the three laws [are] to be gathered by a wise being’ (23b2/3); kwri sū krauptär waipeccenta wrocce lupṣtär nākimpa ‘if he accumulates possessions, he is smeared with great reproach’ (33a6/7); alāläcc[e pa]lsko[sa] ... p[o]nta kraupoytär ‘with untiring spirit may he gather all things’ (PK-17.1a5 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]); pernerñenta kraupāt[ai] ‘thou hast amassed glories’ (249a1); āke kakraupaṣä = BHS nicayāḥ (304a5), kakraupau = BHS uparjitaṃ (H-ADD.149.153 [Couvreur, 1966: 181]); sān[k kr]aupäṣṣa ‘he assembled the community’ (PK-AS-18B-a2 [Pinault, 1984b:376]), mäskelye yakene ente maitare aklaṣlyeṃ po eṣe kraupäṣṣare ‘if they go to that place where they should be, let them gather all the disciples together’ (108a3). + -- kakrauparmeṃ: ekañiñenta kakrau[parmeṃ] [kakrauparmeṃ = BHS samudānīya] (H-149.329 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486]), [kakraupa]rmeṃ krentaunaṣṣana pya[ppy]aiṃ = BHS pracīya guṇapuṣpāṇi (PK-NS-414b2 [Couvreur, 1966:170]); +
+kraupalñe ‘gathering, amassing’: empr[eṃ] pälskontse kraupalñe ‘the amassing of true spirit’ (155a2); +
+kraupalñetstse ‘corpulent, obese’: kraupalñettse = BHS sanghāta- (Y-3a5). +∎TchA krop- and B kraup- reflect PTch *kreup- from PIE *kr(e)u-b^h- seen otherwise in Greek krúptō ‘hide’ (MA:217). With another élargissement, we have PIE *kr(e)u-h_x- in Baltic kráuju ‘pile up,’ krūvà ‘pile,’ OCS kryjǫ ‘cover, hide’ krovъ ‘roof’ (VW, 1941:45, 1976:235, with differing details). PTch *kreup- might reflect either an ē-grade or and o-grade intensive present in PIE terms. The PTch *kreup-nā (found in both A and B) is presumably analogical to the subjunctive *kreup-ā-. +See also kraupe and akraupatte. +

+ + +
+

+kraupe* +(nm.) +‘group; section’
+[-, kraupentse, kraupe//kraupi, -, kraupeṃ] +yokaiṣṣe ce kraupe weña [yokaiṣṣe kraupe = BHS tṛṣṇāvarga-] (8a7), kraupene cene kausem[ane k_u]s[e] ‘wenn die [Gemeinde-]Schar such in Bezug auf diesen schlägt’ [kraupene = BHS saṃgha-] (36b1), mā cämpyare cai śämtsi kraupeścä ‘these could not come to the group’ (388a7), [mā nke]lñene yaneṃ [k]r[aupi] = BHS na kṣayaṃyānti cākarāḥ (PK-NS-414a1 [Couvreur, 1966:170]). + -- kraupeṣṣe ‘prtng to a group or section’ (291b3). +∎A nominal derivative of kraup-. +

+ + +
+

+krauśśeññe +(adj.) +‘?’
+/// dhātusa krauśśeññe /// (196a3). +‣A variant of krośśeññe? +

+ + +
+

+klampärya* +(n.) +a meter (4 X 18 syllables; rhythm 7/7/4)
+[-, -, klampäryai//] +(359b2). +‣Cf. TchA klumpri ‘id.’ +

+ + +
+

+-klawissu +See ñem-klawissu. +

+ + +
+

+-klasko*, +only in the compound koṃ-klasko ‘west’ +[-, -, koṃ-kläsko//] +kom-kläskomeṃ ‘from the west’ (Otani 19.1.4 [Pinault, nomen actionis from *kläsk- ‘set [of the sun].’ +See More s.v. kläskālyñe. +

+ + +
+

+klānk- +(vi.) +‘ride, go by wagon’
+Pt. Ib /klānkā-/ [A klankāwa, -, klānka//] +[pre]ścyaine śerītsi klānka ‘at that time he rode off to hunt’ (363a3). +∎AB klānk- is a denominative verb (as if PTch *klenk-ā-) from klenke, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+klāp- +See klep-. +

+ + +
+

+klāy- +(vi.) +‘fall’
+Ps. IV /kloyo-/ [MP kloyomar, -, kloyotär// -, -, kloyontär; MPPart. kloyomane]; Ko. V /klāyā-/ [A -, klāyat, klāyaṃ//; MP -, -, klāyatär//; MPImpf. // -, - klāyoyeṃ]; Pt. Ib /klāyā-/ [A klayāwa, -, klāya// -, -, klayāre]; PP /kāklāyā-/ +/// tetemwa ka kloyonträ /// ‘scarcely grown [scil. the fruit], they fall’ (1a6), [ne]mc[e]k kloyoträ kätkr[e] s[u] ‘certainly he falls deeply’ (47a2), ciṣṣe saimäś kloyomar ‘I fall to thy refuge’ (TEB-64-11), painemeṃ ette kloyomane ‘falling down from [his] feet’ (88a2); [la]lāloṣ [] yäkte-skeyeṃ ka ṣp sañi klāyaṃ ‘tired and with little zeal the enemies will fall’ (21b6), sn[ai] parwā lestaimeṃ tsānkaṃ su kl[ā]y[aṃ] n[o] k[eṃ]tsa ‘without feathers he will rise from the nest but will fall to the ground’ (282b1); pit maiwāte-ne k[eṃ]tsa klāya ‘his gall shook [i.e. he fainted] and he fell to the ground’ (85b5), tumeṃ leswi eṅsat[e]-ne yaka ynemane nauntaine klāya ‘then waves of weakness seized her and, still walking along the street, she fell’ (TEB-66-35). + -- klāyalñe ‘falling’ (543a7); +
+klāyalñe-āke ‘± falling end’: [klāya]lñe-āke = BHS patanāntāḥ (H-149.329b1 [Thomas, 1967:24]). +∎While clearly related to TchA klā(w)- ‘id.’ extra-Tocharian cognates are very uncertain. While the relationship itself with A klā(w)- is clear, the details of that relationship are anything but obvious. In TchA we find a very irregular paradigm with a present stem klawa-, a subjunctive and preterite stem klā- and an optative klāwi-. The data from both Tocharian A and B can be accounted for if we start from a PTch present *klāye- and a subjunctive/ (optative/)preterite stem *klāyā-. In TchA the sequence *-āyā- regularly underwent contraction to -ā- (cf. Winter, 1965b, who takes the contraction to have been from *-āwā-), hence the attested subjunctive and preterite. In the optative the form immediately behind the attested klāwi- must have been *klāyi- which has undergone the same dissimilation we see in the optative skawi- to ske- ‘strive’ (B skai-) or in kayurṣ ‘bull’ from *kawurṣ (cf. B kau_urṣe). The present *klāye- would regularly have given later PTch *kloyo- by Mutual Rounding (Adams, 1988c:21) and later *kloo- with regular loss of *-y- between *-o-'s (cf. Adams, 1988d). In B the -y- was restored on the basis of the rest of the paradigm whereas in A -w- was inserted as a hiatus breaker, perhaps reinforced by the -w- of the optative. +
+At various times *klāy- has been connected with Sanskrit glā- ‘be tired, languish,’ Lithuanian guliù ‘am lying down,’ Greek bállō ‘throw,’ Sanskrit cárati ‘moves,’ etc. (see VW:217 for previous literature; his own solution, following Meillet [in Hoernle, 1916:379], is a connection with Sanskrit glā-). But in under none of these hypotheses is either the semantic or the formal equation particularly strong. All of them assume that the *-y- represents ye/o-present generalized throughout the verb. If the *-y- is part of the root, we might consider a relationship with PIE *ḱlei- ‘lean’ (‘lean over [so as to fall]’?, ‘decline very much’ > ‘fall’?) with an ō-grade intensive present *ḱlōy-ó-. Phonologically and semantically less likely is Hilmarsson's connection (H:147-148) of a connection kliūti ‘to land accidentally in a situation; to stick; to be left behind.’ +See also possibly kläsk- and klin-. +

+ + +
+

+klāw- +(vt.) +G ‘be called, named’; K ‘announce, make known’
+G Ps. IV /kl(y)owo-/ [MP -, -, klowotär ~ klyowotär// -, -, klowontär ~ klyowontär]; Pt. Ib /klāwā-/ [A -, -, klāwa//]; PP /kāklāwā-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /klāwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. klāwäṣṣeñca]; Ko. IXb [= Ps] [Inf. klāwäs(t)si]; Pt. Ib /klāwā-/ [A -, -, klāwa//] +[ñe]m [e]rsna kl[y]owoträ (158b5), k_use ersnāssoñc ñakti klowonträ ‘whatever the beautiful gods are called’ (K-2a2), tumeṃ oṃṣap no ñakti klyowonträ snai ersna ‘besides, the gods are called "formless"’ (K-2a3); se kṣatriyenmeṃ ompostäṃ [brā]hmañe camel klāwa ‘that race following the kshatriyas was called the brahmans’ (PK-AS16.3b1 [Pinault, 1989:157]); kaklāwau = BHS śrutaḥ (H-ADD.149.80a5 [Couvreur, 1966:179]); /// palsko klāwässi lālyi wrotstsai (104a2); Rājarṣi ṣey Gaye ñem om mäskeñca cwi ñemtsa wartto klāwa ‘there was a Rājarṣi, Gaya [by] name there and [the Buddha] called the forest by his name’ (108b2). +‣Note the formal identity of the causative and non-causative preterite. +∎AB klāw- reflects PTch *klāw- wherein we may have either a denominative *klāw-ā- from the same PIE *ḱlōweh_a- seen in OCS slava (f.) ‘fame’ or an ō-grade intensive present *ḱlōw-eh_a- (like Greek pōtáomai ‘fly here and there’) or *ḱlōw-o- (like Latin rōdere ‘gnaw’). In any case we have a derivative of PIE *ḱleu- ‘hear’ (VW, 1951:112-4, 1976:218). Further s.v. klyaus-. +See also klāwi and, more distantly, klyaus-, klautso, and ñem-kälywe. +

+ + +
+

+klāwi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘fame’
+[klāwi, -, klāwi//] +[ṣamāne]ntse yāṣṣu śawāñcaññe yan-ne se klāwi ‘this fame of eating alms of a monk will go to him’ (H-149.39a3 [Couvreur, 1954c:85]), s[nai] lyīprä kärsau te-mänt empreṃtsā källaṃ klāwi śaiṣṣene ‘known without remainder, thus he will achieve fame for truth in the world’ (PK 12C-a5 [ibid.]). +∎A nominal derivative of klāw-. +See also ñem-klawissu. +

+ + +
+

+kläky- +‘?’
+/// ̇ṣpä enkärstātte kläky ̇/// (136b5). +

+ + +
+

+klänk- +(vt.) +‘doubt’
+Ps. I /klyenk-/ [MP -, -, klyenktär//; AImpf. -, -, klyeñci//]; Ko. I /klänk-/ [Inf. klanktsi] +[pä]lsko ṣek [k]lyenträ [sic] ‘the spirit is ever doubtful’ (254a3), pälsko [ṣek] kleñkträ [sic] (255a4/5), k_uce kca klyauṣi tuk klyeñci ‘whatever he would hear, he would doubt it’ (A-4a6); caināts [lege: cainats] welñ[e] kl[a]nkts[i] ‘to doubt their word’ (197a1). + -- klankälyñe ‘± doubt’: ///meṃ pūdñäkte ślok wñā-neś mā klankälyñe/// (A-4b3). +∎AB klänk- reflect PTch *klänk- from PIE *kleng- ‘bend, turn’ [: Latin clingō ‘cingō’ or ‘clūdō,’ Old Norse hlekkr ‘loop of chain,’ Old English hlinc ‘ridge’ Old French (< Germanic) flenchir ‘turn aside, flinch,’ etc. (P:603; MA:62)]. In Tocharian we have the same ‘turn aside, recoil’ of the mental sphere we see on Old French in the physical sphere. +See also klänkarṣke and klenke. +

+ + +
+

+klänkarṣke* +(adj.) +‘doubtful’
+[f: // klänkarṣkana] +eśn=āṃtpi ... wätkāltsana ... mā rano klänkarṣkana ‘both eyes resolute and not doubtful/wavering’ (H-149-ADD.166b3 [H:141]). +∎An adjectival derivative of klänk-. +

+ + +
+

+klänts- +(vi.) +‘sleep’
+Ps. XII /kläntsäññ^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kläntsaṃ// -, kläntsañcer, -; AImpf. -, -, kläntsaññi// -, -, kläntsaññ(i)yeṃ]; Ko. V /kläntsā-/ [AOpt. -, -, klantsoy//]; Pt. I /klyäntsā-/ [A -, -, klyantsa//] +lkäntsan-n[e] [lege: kläntsan-ne] [kläntsan = BHS svapati] (14b3), tneka preksau-me kā snai meṃtsi kläṃtsañcer ‘here I ask you; why do you sleep without [a] care?’ (G-Su1-d), prākre kläntsaññi ‘he slept soundly’ (109b5); skwassu no klantsoi ostne tsäksemane /// ‘fortunate [he would be] however [if] he slept in a burning house’ (K-12b1); klyantsa (K-T). + -- klantsalñe ‘sleepiness, numbness’: klantsalñe = BHS suptatā- (Y-3b4). +∎TchA klis- and B klänts- reflect PTch *kläns- from PIE *klmh_x-s- whose root is otherwise seen only certainly in Sanskrit klām(y)ati ‘be(come) weary, fatigued,’ klānta- ‘fatigued’ (VW: 218-219, though he wrongly separates A klis-; MA:588). Hilmarsson suggests (H:142-143) as an alternative to the above etymology one that connects this word with the family of PIE *ḱlei- ‘bend, lean,’ more particularly *ḱli-n-s-. Semantically acceptable, the addition of *-s- to a root already enlarged by *-n- is not otherwise well-established. +See also kläntsauñe*. +

+ + +
+

+kläntsauñe* +(n.) +‘± sleepiness, numbness’
+[-, -, kläntsauñe//] +kläntsauñesa ṣpakaiṃ yamaṣlona ‘in [a case of] sleepiness poultices [are] to be made’ (W-9a3). +∎A nominal derivative of klänts-. +

+ + +
+

+kläskālyñe * +(n.) +‘setting (as of the sun)’
+[-, -, kälskālyñe//] +ailskālyñ[e] [lege: kälskālyñe] yaneṃ tsnamñenta = BHS astaṃ gacchanti hāsravā (305b3), kläskālñe (517.1a1). +∎In form an abstract built on the subjunctive stem kläskā- from an unattested *kläsk-. The latter would be from a putative PIE *ḱli-sḱe/o-, a derivative of PIE *ḱlei- ‘bend, lean’ [: Sanskrit śráyati ‘lean against, lay on,’ Greek klīnō ‘lean (against); wane [of the day],’ Latin clīnō ‘lean, incline,’ OHG hlinēn ‘lean (intr.),’ etc. (P:601-602; MA:348). PIE *-i- regularly fails to palatalize when retracted in the environment of an *-s- (Adams, 1988c:15). For the semantic development from ‘lean, incline’ > ‘set [of sun]’ one should compare Greek tò êmar klínetai ‘the day wanes.’ Not with Hilmarsson (H:143) from PIE *ḱli-n-sḱe/o-, nor with VW (201) from PIE *ḱel- ‘hide.’ +See also klin- and kälymiye, -klasko, and possibly klāy-. +

+ + +
+

+klin- +(vi.) +‘be necessary’ [impersonal and followed by an infinitive]
+Ps. Xa /klinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, kl(y)inaṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. I /klin-/ [A -, -, kl(y)in(ä)ṃ//; AOpt. -, -, kl(y)iñi// -, -, kl(y)iñ(i)yeṃ]; Pt. III /klein(s)ā-/ [A -, -, klaintsa//]. +/// klinaṣṣäṃ ṣañ śāmna rintsi ‘it is necessary to renounce one's own people’ (8a2), omte tañ klyinaṣäṃ-ś sak lakle ritatsi ‘there it is necessary for thee to seek good fortune or suffering’ (TEB-74-6); waike waṣe ṣpä käskor wat wentsi klyin-ne ‘[if] it is necessary for him to speak lies and idle gossip’ (31b4), [yo]lo oko warpatsi mā ṣ ñī klyīñī ‘and it was not necessary for me to enjoy an evil fruit’ (268a3), saṃsārne kliñi-ñ walka [lege: walke] spārtatsi ‘it was necessary for me to turn for a long time in the saṃsāra’ (249b1), [nrai]ṣṣ[a]na wat kliñeṃ lkātsi kr_ui läklenta ‘or if it was necessary to see hellish sufferings’ (220b5). +∎AB klin- reflect PTch *kläin- with analogical zero-grade (see Adams, 1978), a derivative of PIE *ḱlei- ‘bend, lean, incline’ [: Sanskrit śráyati ‘lean (tr.), lay on,’ Avestan sray- ~ srinu- ~ srinav- ‘lean,’ Armenian linim ‘be, become,’ Greek klīnō ‘lean (tr.), make to slope or slant,’ Latin clīnāre ‘bend, bow, incline,’ OHG hlinēn ‘lean (intr.),’ Lithuanian šliejù ‘lean against,’ etc. (P:601-602; MA:348)] (VW:220, with differing details, also H:150-151). The Tocharian reflects *ḱlinu(sḱe/o)-, as in Avestan. Semantically we must have a development ‘it leans against’ > ‘it depends on’ > ‘it must.’ +See also kläskālyñe*. +

+ + +
+

+klīye +(nf.) +‘woman’
+[klīye, klaiñantse (?), klaiñ ~ klaiṃ ~ klai//klaina, klainaṃts, klaina] +oṣle pākre klainämpa kca treṅsate ‘midnight and noon he was hanging about some woman’ (69a2), [anti]ṣ-puräṣṣana klainampa ‘with the harem women’ (109a6), ṣamāne ṣañ āymesa [sic] klaiñ[antse]/// (330a1), enkwaññe ṣotri ne[ksa]te-ñ ... piś-känte cmelane klyiye ta[kāwa] ‘my male sign was destroyed; for five hundred births I was a woman’ (400a2), klai (570a4), klaiñ mā lyakār[e] ‘they didn't see the woman’ (570b2). + -- klaiññe ‘female, prtng to a woman’: klaiñ=eṅwaññe ṣotrūnimeṃ ‘from the signs of female and male’ (8a6), klaiñe teki [K. T. Schmidt's reading, 1975] = BHS strīroga (505a3), klaiññe krāke ‘menstrual discharge’ (522a4), klaiñe teki = BHS asṛgdara- (Y-1a1). +∎TchA k_uli (acc. k_ule) and B klīye (acc. klai) reflect PTch *kwliye (acc. *kwlai). Following and elaborating on a suggestion of K. T. Schmidt's (1980) and Kortlandt (1988) (also H:157-159) we may take the PTch form to reflect PIE *g^wneh_a-h₁en-, a "definitizing" derivative of the ordinary word for ‘woman,’ *g^wen(e)h_a- that appears in TchB as śana ‘wife,’ q.v. (MA:648). The nom. sg. *g^wneha-h₁ēn should have given PTch *kwlāi̯ē(n) by dissimilation of the two n's. This *kwlāi̯ē(n) should have given *kwloyo by mutual rounding (Adams, 1988c:21) but this form was analogically replaced by *kwlaye on the basis of the acc. sg. *kwlai and the sequence *-aye in *kwlaye evidently gave *-iye regularly (Adams, 1988d). The PIE acc. sg. *g^wneh_a-h₁enṃ gave PTch *kwlāi̯ä (with the loss of *-nä in the accusative singulars of nouns not referring to male rational beings) > *kwlai. In both languages the plural of this noun is analogical. The TchA plural k_ulewāñ is analogical after *sewāñ ‘sons’ while the B plural klaina is that appropriate to nouns denoting female rational beings (cf. aśiyana ‘nuns’). Beside the acc. sg. klai in B there are both klaiṃ and klaiñ. Klaiṃ is a historically later form of klaiñ resulting from the general tendency to change final -ñ to -n, reinforced in this particular case as final -n is the regular marker of the acc. sg. of nouns denoting male rational beings (e.g. enkweṃ, the acc. sg. of enkwe ‘man’). In PIE terms klaiñ must reflect a *g^wn(e)h_a-h₁en-ih_am, a motionsfeminum built to an n-stem. Not with Pedersen (1925:26, also VW:241) is this word to be related to the otherwise isolated Modern Irish caile ‘country woman, maiden, girl,’ Breton pl-ac’h ‘girl.’ +

+ + +
+

+kliṣṭ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘± afflicted’ (?)
+(175b1, 189b1). +∎From BHS kliṣṭa-. +

+ + +
+

+klu* +(n.) +‘rice’ (Oryza sativa Linn.)
+[-, -, klu//] +tane klu pete ~ tane smaññe pete ‘then give rice! then give broth!’ (H-149.X.5b6 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- kluṣṣe ‘prtng to rice’: kluṣṣa ṣwīye ‘rice gruel’ (497a8). +∎The equivalent of TchA klu. An early borrowing from Old Chinese *gləwʔ ‘rice, rice-paddy’ (in New Chinese dào; cf. Schuessler, 1987:116). For other suggestions, see VW:222 (a connection with Sanskrit śáru- ‘lance, arrow’) or Hilmarsson (H:152--a connection with the Germanic group represented by English hull) . +

+ + +
+

+klutk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘turn’ (intr.); K ‘make, change, turn [someone/something] into; augment, intensify’
+G Ps. VII /kluttänk^'ä/_e-/ [MP // -, -, kluttankentär]; PP /klutko-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /klutkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, klutkäṣṣäṃ// -, -, klutkäskeṃ; AImpf. // -, -, klutkäṣṣiyeṃ; APart. klutkäṣṣeñca; MPPart. klutkäskemane]; Ko. IXb [= Ps.] [Inf. klutkästsi]; Pt. II /klyāutkā-/ [A -, klyautkasta, klyautka//; MP -, -, klyautkāte// klyautkāmte, -, -]; PP /keklyutku-/ +kauc ette kluttankentär toṃ pwenta cākr ente spārtaṃ k_us=ette tākaṃ kauc toṃ kluttankentär kaucmeṃ n_änok etteś ‘up and down the spokes turn when the wheel revolves; whatever will be down, up they turn from high again to down’ (30b6/7); wī pwārine kl[utk]au [ra]mt wsaṣṣäṃ lklessu ‘as [if he had] been between two fires, the suffering one dwells’ (9a7); | war yokaiṣṣe witskaṃ waiwäṣṣäṃ-ne n_änok ñwecce klutkäṣṣä[n-n]e ‘the water of thirst wets its roots and makes it become new again’ (11b3); wāya ci lauke tsyāra ñiś wetke lykautka-ñ [lege: klyautka-ñ] pāke po läklentas [sic] ‘he has led thee afar and separated me [from thee] and made me share all sufferings’ (496a6/7), wismai klyautkasta brāhmaññai wertsyai ‘thou hast made astonished the brahmanical assembly’ (TEB-58-23); pilycalñeccu wroccu rṣāka purwar wesmeṃ | śaṣkäs lykwarwa keklyutkusai onkorñai tā ‘zealous and great seer! enjoy from me this sixteen times intensified porridge!’ [śa]ṣkäs lykwarwa keklyutkusai = BHS ṣodaśaguṇitam] (107b7). + -- keklyutkormeṃ: pratiharintasa ceyna takar[ṣk]aṃ kekl[yu]tkormeṃ ‘by these wonders having made them believers’ (108b9). +∎TchA lutk- ‘id.’ and B klutk- are obviously to be related but exactly how is a question. It is usually assumed that A lutk- results from dissimilatory loss from *klutk- (retained in B) but the loss of a highly salient initial consonant in such a fashion is unlikely. More probable to my mind is to assume an original *klutk- that that became *tlutk- in pre-TchA by dissimilation and subsequently lutk- by regular loss of *t- before *-l- (much like *glakt- ‘milk’ > *dlakt- > lact- in Latin). Semantically PTch *klutk- would appear to belong to the widespread PIE *k^wel- ‘turn, revolve, sojourn, dwell’ [: Sanskrit cárati ‘revolve,’ Avestan čaraiti ‘versatur,’ Greek pélomai ‘am in motion, go; come, rise’ (with Aeolic p-), télos ‘end’ (< *‘turning point’), telé(i)ō ‘finish,’ pólos ‘pivot, axis’ [= B kele, q.v.], poléō (intr.) ‘go around, range, haunt,’ (tr.) ‘turn up the soil’ (of a plow), Latin colō (< *k^welō) ‘cultivate, tend, dwell,’ Albanian sjell (< *k^welō) ‘bring, fetch,’ qel (< *k^woleyō) ‘come (late),’ and nominal derivatives in Celtic, Germanic, Baltic, and Slavic (P:639-640)]. PTch *klutk- presupposes a PIE *k^wl-eu-T-(sḱe/o-), probably to be seen again in Albanian qeshë ‘I was’ (in pre-Modern Albanian kleshë) if from *k^wleuT-sṃ (the -o- of the Albanian optative qofsha may reflect *k^wlēuT-). Exactly the same series of élargissements is to be seen in B mlutk- ‘crush’ from PIE *mel- (MA:607). VW (267), following Pedersen, suggests the same root origin but is wrong in seeing a particular relationship with Greek teleutáō ‘finish, achieve.’ Hilmarsson, on the other hand, relates them (H:144-145) to ON hljóta ‘be allotted, attain’ but the semantic connection seems unilluminating. +See also klautke, klautk-, and, more distantly, \X0\käl-¹\x, käl-², kokale, and kele. +

+ + +
+

+klup- +(vt.) +‘± squeeze’
+Ps. VI /klupnā-/ [MP -, -, klupnātär//] +ṣamāneṃntse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne [sic] mälyuwiñcä epinkte kluṣnātärr-ne [lege: klupnātär-ne] tune swāralyñe yamastär krāke läṃn-ne ‘[if] sexual desires should arise in the mind of a monk and his shame-place [i.e. penis] stands tall and he squeezes [it] between [his] thighs, and makes therein pleasure for himself and filth [i.e. semen] emerges from him’ (334b6-8). +‣Though traditionally read kluṣnātär such a form cannot be right since there is no source for the palatalization of *-s-. Instead we have here a sloppy writing of -p-. +∎Extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. It may be related to Lithuanian glaũbti ‘to press to the breast,’ Old English clyppan ‘embrace, enclose; surround; grip,’ Old Norse klȳpa ‘include, comprise; squeeze, pinch’ all from a PIE *gleub- ‘± embrace, squeeze’ (cf. P:362). In any event the -u- represents PTch *-äu- and an analogical zero-grade (Adams, 1978). +

+ + +
+

+kluṣ- +See klup-. +

+ + +
+

+Klenkarako +(n.) +‘Klenkarako’ (PN in caravan pass)
+[Klenkarako, -, -//] +(LP-4a1). +

+ + +
+

+klenkarññaññe +‘?’
+kektseñtsa sanāpalle kartse māka klenkarññaññe (W-41b2). +∎An adjectival derivative of some sort from klenkarya ~ klenkaryo? +

+ + +
+

+klenkarya ~ klenkaryo +(n.) +‘Vanda roxburghii R. Br.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[klenkaryo ~ klenkarya, -, -//] +klenkaryo = BHS rāsnā- (Y-2b3/4). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+klenke* +(nm.) +‘vehicle (of arriving at knowledge)’
+[-, -, klenke//-, -, klenkeṃ] +[causa] klenkesa = BHS tena yānena (306b3), kselläññeṣṣe sak śpālmeṃ trai klenkentsa källoyeṃ po saṃsārṣṣi ‘through the three vehicles may all those in the saṃsāra achieve the good fortune of extinction!’ (S-6a6). +∎(As if) from PIE *klongo- a nominal derivative of the tómos type from PIE *kleng- ‘bend, turn’ [: Latin clingō ‘cingō’ or ‘clūdō,’ TchB klänk- ‘be doubtful,’ Old Norse hlekkr ‘loop of chain,’ Old English hlinc ‘ridge’ Old French (< Germanic) flenchir ‘turn aside, flinch,’ etc. (P:603; MA:62)]. For the semantics one might note NHG lenken ‘guide, conduct’ (VW:217, though he does not connect klänk-). +See also klānk- and, more distantly, klänk-. +

+ + +
+

+klene * +(n.) +‘± noise, sound’
+[-, -, klene//] +/// snai klena [lege: klene?] ‘without noise’ (389a1), snai klene (PK-17-8b2 [H:149]). +∎A nominal derivative of käln-, q.v. On the basis of the derived adjective klene-_u ‘resounding’ it would appear that klena is an innovation or simply a mistake for *klene. +See also käln- and klene_u*. +

+ + +
+

+klene_u* +(adj.) +‘resounding’
+[m: klene_u, -, -//] [f: -, -, klenauntsai//] +[spä]ntaiytsñeṣṣai wrākai pāyāsta klenauntsai ‘thou didst blow on the resounding conch of trustfulness’ (214b4). +∎An adjective derived from klene, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+klep- +(vt.) +‘± touch (with the hands), investigate, test’
+Ps. I /klyep-/ [MP -, -, klyeptär//]; Pt. I /klāpā-/ [MP -, -, klapāte ~ klawāte//] +klyepträ = BHS saṃmṛśati (VW, 1976: 223); pudñäktentse kektseño klawāte-ne lyawā-ne ‘he touched the Buddha's body and rubbed it’ (5b5). + -- kaklāparmeṃ: /// kaklāparmeṃ = BHS vimṛśya (532b2); +
+klāpalñe ‘± touch’: /// yakne klapālñ[e e]nka/// (156a2). +∎From PIE *klep- ‘± lay hand to’ (Adams, 1989b; MA:595). Further discussion of cognates s.v. kälp-. TchB klyep^'ä/_e- is a thematic verb with lengthened-grade of the root (probably originally iterative-intensive in meaning). Cf. klyaus- ‘hear’ (where the vocalism of the present has spread throughout the paradigm), tänk- ‘check, hinder’ (3rd. pl. cenkeṃ), täk- ‘touch’ (3rd. sg. ceśäṃ), śauk- ‘call’ (3rd. sg. śauśäṃ), and Class III ("deponents"), nu- ‘shout, threaten’ (3rd. sg. ñewetär), or lu- ‘send’ (3rd. sg. lyewetär). Outside of Tocharian we can compare Latin cēdere ‘go, proceed’ or Greek mēdomai ‘devise, counsel, advise; plot’ beside médomai ‘give heed to, attend.’ The preterite and subjunctive of *klēpe/o- seem to have been built to an old o-grade (intensive?) present *klop- (for o-grade-presents, see now Jasanoff, 1979) plus the ubiquitous -ā- of Tocharian preterites and subjunctives (i.e. *klop-ā-). +See also kälp-, kälyp- and klepe*. +

+ + +
+

+klepe* +(n.) +‘± theft’
+[-, -, klepe//] +lyakäṃ kr[au]pträ | wi-pewaṃ | śtwer-pewaṃ | makā-pewaṃ | klepe mällasträ | weṣperke ṣparkäṣṣäṃ | lyakäṃ sompasträ ‘thieves he gathers; the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, the many-footed; he suppresses theft, he removes weṣperke; he takes the thieves unto himself’ (H-149. ADD.8b3 [H:149-150]). +∎(As if) from PIE *ḱlopo-, a derivative of *ḱlep- ‘± lay hand to’ (MA:595). +See also kälyp-, kälp-, and klep-. +

+ + +
+

+kleś +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘pain, affliction, distress, anguish’ [used of all passions, all of which were disapproved from the buddhist point of view]
+[kleś, -, kleś//kleśanma, kleśanmaṃts, kleśanma] +[po] kauṣeñca yokye kleś ontsoytñe tne tanmäṣṣäṃ krentaṃts wnolmeṃts ‘the all-killing affliction thirst/desire produces insatiability in good beings’ (11b2), aiśamñesa kauṣallona kleśanma = BHS jñānavaddhyā kleśā (200a4), [in Manichean script] klyš’nm’ (Winter/Gabain:12). + -- kleśaṣṣe ‘prtng to (an) affliction’: yūkoym weta kleśaṣṣai ‘may I triumph over the struggle with affliction!’ (S-6a1); +
+kleśanmaṣṣe ‘prtng to afflictions’ (226a2); +
+kleśatstse* ‘afflicted’: ma no mäkci kleśäcci po ṣärm aiskeṃ kleśänmats ‘all these afflicted with afflictions do not give origin to afflictions’ (255b6); +
+kleśanmatstse* ‘having afflictions’ (601a1); +
+kleś-yāmorṣṣe ‘prtng to affliction and deed’ (286a5). +∎From BHS kleśa-. +See also klaiks-. +

+ + +
+

+klese +(n.) +some sort of foodstuff, ‘± coarse meal’ (?) [often specified for the workers and contrasted with flour given to the artisans]
+[klese, -, -//] +kantiś yikṣye ok tom piś ṣankäṃ klese tau ‘for bread flour, one tau and five pounds, klese, one tau’ (433a4), kapyāres klese masa tarya tom wākte wi tom ‘for the workers klese went, three tau and wākte, two tau’ (434a5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+klestetstse +(adj.) +‘± shabby, sullied’
+[m: klestetstse, -, -//] +sa [lege: su] pañīkte-käṣṣīṃtse wastsi klestetse ṣai ‘the Buddha-teacher's clothing was shabby’ (or ‘sullied’) (560a3/4). +∎Etymology uncertain. Hilmarsson (H:150) suggests a possible connection in Old Norse klessa ‘spot of dirt.’ The Old Norse reflects PIE *gled^s-teh_a-; the Tocharian a PIE *glod^s-to-. For another, perhaps related, suggestion, see VW:220. +

+ + +
+

+klaiks- +(vi.) +‘± languish, shrivel, wither’
+Ps. IV /klaikso-/ [MP -, -, klaiksotär//]; Ko. V /klāiksā-/ [Inf. klaiksatsi]; PP /kāklāiksā-/ +[tu]sa tw=Ānanda mā mäsketär [lege: mäsketar] läklessu mā ra klaiksotar ‘therefore, Ānanda, do not be unfortunate and do not languish’ (27a2); /// pwārane | saṃsārṣṣe stām laukaññe yokye kleś mā tärknan-ne klaiksatsi nta ‘the saṃsāra-tree [does not burn] long in the fires; the thirst-kleśa never allows [it] to wither’ (11b3); [spä]rkoṣ ere ce kaklaiksauwa särwana/// ‘the color gone and face shriveled’ (405b3). +∎TchA kleps- and B klaiks- reflect PTch *klaiks- or *klaips-. If the former, it surely reflects a PIE *k^(w)leiḱ- [: Sanskrit kliś- (present kliśyáte) ‘suffer, be tormented,’ kleśa- ‘suffering, pain, torment,’ Parthian Sogdian nxrys- ‘blame, reproach’ (< *ni-xraisa-), Russian klestit' ‘press,’ Lithuanian klìšės ‘crabclaw’] (H:139-140; MA: 413; cf. Mayrhofer, 1986:419). This etymology is certainly to be preferred to VW's suggestion (1962b:342-3, 1976:219) of a connection with Greek skeliphrós ‘dry, parched, lean; dry or lean looking’ and sklēphrós ‘slender, light, thin.’ +

+ + +
+

+klaiññe +See klīye. +

+ + +
+

+klokaśce* +(nf.) +‘pore, follicle’
+[-, -, klokaśc//klokaści, -, klokastäṃ] +somo somo klokaśne ltū wlaṃśke yok tañ kektsentsa ‘one by one [has] emerged a soft hair in [each] follicle over thy body’ (74a3), klokastäṃnmeṃ ok-tmane pletkar-c ysāra ‘from eight thousand pores thy blood overflowed’ (S-8a4). +∎Related to TchA klyokäśc ‘id.,’ whose palatalization is presumably due to distant assimilation with -śc-. Hilmarsson suggests (H:151) a further connection with Latin cloāca (~ cluāca, clovāca). The Latin would represent *ḱlow(h_x)-eh_ak-eh_a- and the Tocharian *ḱlow(h_x)-eh_ak-u-sten- (> *klewokuścän-, with rounding of *-ā- in the environment *-w...Cu- [cf. poko], > *klowokuścän- > *klokäścän-. Further related to the family of *ḱleu(h_x)- ‘± clean’ (cf. P:607; MA:108). +

+ + +
+

+klautk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘turn, become’ (intr.); K ‘turn’ (tr.)
+G Ps. IV /klautko-/ [MP klautkomar, -, klautkotär// -, -, klautkontär; Ger. klautkolle]; Ko. V /klāutkā-/ [A -, -, klautkaṃ//; MP -, -, klautkoytär//; AOpt. -, -, klautkoy// -, -, klautkoyeṃ; Inf. klautkatsi]; Ipv. I /päklāutkā-/ [Sg. (pä)klautka]; Pt. Ib /klāutkā-/ [A klautkāwa, -, klautka// -, -, klautkāre]; PP /kāklāutkā-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /klautkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, klautkäṣṣäṃ//; Ger. klautkäṣṣälle]; Ko. IXb [= Ps.] [Inf. klautkäs(t)si]; Ipv. IV /päklautkäṣṣā-/ [Pl. päklautkäṣṣat] +mäkte cake ṣliye /// [kl]autkot[rä] | mant kättankäṃ śaulanma mā ṣp wtentse klautkonträ ‘as a mountain stream ... turns; so lives pass and do not turn a second time’ (3a4), päst yaikormeṃ poyknesa päst kl[au]tkoträ lakle se nano nano [klautkoträ = BHS nivartate] (11a5), nāki lkāskau klautkomar yolaiñemeṃ ‘I see reproach, I turn from evil’ (TEB-64-04); mentsisa klautkoy śaul wtentse ket ra ‘should someone's life turn again through distress?’ (46b1), ṣañ läklenta warpatsi waśīr klautkoy-ñ arañce ‘may my heart turn into diamond to endure my own sufferings!’ (S-8b1), [p]añäktäññe pernemeṃ mā ṣ klautkoyem ‘and may we not turn from the Buddha-rank’ (184a3); kāwalñemeṃ päklautk[a] ‘turn from desire!’ (358b3), klyomai klautkā ñäke näpi [lege: mäpi] ‘o noble [one], turn yourself not away!’ (PK-12F-b4 ([Thomas, 1979:45]); tañ pernerñe saim yāmoṣ perneñc ka po klautkāre ‘having made [their] refuge thy glory, they all have turned glorious’ (204a3/4); tane se brāhmaṇe ... katkauñaisa īte ka[k]l[autkau] ‘then the brahman [was] filled with joy’ (AMB-a3), kaklau[tkau] = BHS nivṛttaḥ (U-18b5); ceṃ ṣamāneṃ klautkäs[ts]i[śc] śalna ‘in order to turn these monks [from] strife’ (36a8); päklautkäṣṣat päst pälskonta weṃṣyetsai ramt kotaimeṃ ‘turn [your] thoughts away as from a sewer’ (33b6/7). + -- klautkalñe ‘turning, returning’: waiyke welyñemeṃ klautkalyñe ‘a turning from speaking lies’ (333a9), [k]lautk[a]lñe = BHS nivṛttaḥ [H-149-ADD.105a3 (Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:488]). +
+klautkäṣlyñe* ‘turning’: klautkäṣlñe = BHS vivartanā (41a7). +∎In form a denominative verb from klautke, in turn from klutk-, qq.v. +See also klautke, anklautkatte and klutk-. +

+ + +
+

+klautke* +(nm.) +‘way, manner; behavior’
+[-, -, klautke//-, -, klautkeṃ] +śak-wi klautk[eṃ] = BHS dvādaśākāra (148a1), ce klautkesa śaul no ykāk mā nanautau ... k_uce klautkesa aiśalyi ‘by this behavior life [is] not then lost ... by what behavior [are they] to be known?’ (K-7a4), yärpontaṣṣeṃ klautkeṃ ‘the ways of meritorious works’ (K-10a6). +∎A nominal derivative of the tómos type from klutk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+klauṣo* +(nf.) +‘?’
+[-, -, klauṣai//] +yweṃṣkai klauṣai (H-149.add.7a3 [H:144]). +‣Neither word is known. +

+ + +
+

+klautso +(nf.) +‘ear’
+[klautso, -, klautsai/-, klautsnaisäñ, klauts(a)ne/] +[kantwo=rṣ]āklaṃts ramt klautso ramt onkolmantse wāska ‘like the tongue of snakes, like an elephant's ear it moved’ (3b4), klautsne=naiśai pepīltso śau[l]mpa mā spänteträ ‘listen attentively! don't trust in life!’ (3b4/5), psaina kl[autsai] = BHS avadhatsva śrotraṃ (527a1), läksaña klautso ‘gill’ (P-2a6), klautsaine = BHS śravaṇa- (Y-2a4). + -- klautsaiṣṣe ‘prtng to the ear(s)’: läksaiñai [klau]tsaiṣṣe [ṣpel] ‘a poultice of fish gills’ (FS-b1); +
+klautsaneṣṣe ‘prtng to the (two) ears’ (155a4); +
+klau(t)sa-pilṣi ‘± with ears attent’: se [= k_use] ṣamāne śilnāntaṃ we[tāntaṃ] ṣamāneṃts klausa-pilṣi kalträ pāyti ‘whatever monk stands ears attent to quarreling and fighting monks, pāyti’ [klausa-pilṣi = BHS upaśrutika-] (H-149.X.3a4 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]). +∎TchA klots and B klautso reflect PTch *kleutsā(i̯ä)n-. That this reflects some sort of derivative of PIE *ḱleu- ‘hear’ is universally recognized (Meillet and Lévi, 1911:150, Petersen, 1939:89, Pedersen, 1941:73-4, VW:221; MA:262). Hilmarsson (1989a: 102-103; H:145-146) takes the dual to be from PIE *ḱlouti-ih₁ which would of course be the regular dual of an i-stem. The singular and plural would be from an n-stem extension, *ḱlouti-h₁ōn-. Alternatively we might have a unified paradigm *ḱlouti-(e)h_a- (one might compare the frequent interchange of verbal abstracts -sis and -sía in Greek) where the zero-grade dual *ḱlout-h_a-ih₁ is regular, as is the full-grade singular and plural *ḱlouti-eh_a- (with of course the very common n-stem extension in Tocharian of PIE eh_a-stems). +See also klautsaiñe* and klyaus-. +

+ + +
+

+klautsaiñe* +(nm.) +‘± earring’
+[//-, -, klautsaiñeṃ] +/// ysāṣṣeṃ klautsaiñentsa /// ‘with golden earrings’ (368a3). +∎A derivative of klautso. +

+ + +
+

+Klpāpātre [sic] +(n.) +‘Kalpapātra’ (PN in graffitto)
+[Klpāpātre, -, -//]. +(G-Su21). +

+ + +
+

+klyiye +See klīye. +

+ + +
+

+klyemo* +‘± standing, being in’
+[m:// -, -, klyemoṃ] +klyemoṃ warne lwasāts misampa mit panit wirot ‘honey and molasses with the flesh of animals living in water [is] an incompatibility’ (ST-a3/4). +∎An adjectival derivative of käly-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+klyoto* +(n.) +‘Tribulus terrestris Linn.’ [aka T. lanuginosus] (a medical ingredient)
+[//klyotañ, -, -] +(501a5). + -- klyotaiṣṣe* ‘prtng to Tribulus lanuginosus’: klyotaiṣṣana witsakaṃ ‘roots of Tribulus lanuginosus’ (P-1a5). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also possibly Klyotiśka. +

+ + +
+

+Klyotiśka +(n.) +‘Klyotiśka’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Klyotiśka, -, -//] +(490a-I-2). +∎This would look to be etymologically a diminutive of klyoto*. +

+ + +
+

+klyomo +(adj.) +‘noble’
+[m: klyomo, -, klyomoṃ ~ klyomont (voc. klyomai)//klyomoñ, klyomoṃts, klyomoṃ] [f: klyomña, -, klyomñai//klyomñana, -, -] +t[w]e tākoyt [kts]aitsäññe kärpye-yakne mā klyomo ‘death, thou must be common and not noble!’ (5b8), kly[omo] lkālñesa k_use kekenu tākaṃ [klyomo = BHS ārya] ‘the noble [one] who is provided with insight’ (14a7), oktatsa klyomña ytārye klyomoṃts empreṃtsäññe ‘the noble, eightfold path [is] the truth of the noble [ones]’ (154a4). + -- klyomo-yok ‘noble-like’: [twe nai la]re-yok snai-keś klomo-yok [sic] olyapotstse śpālmeṃ yä/// (237a2); +
+klyomñe ‘nobility’: klyomñe ṣärpseṃ ṣemi ksa aiśämñenta [alyai]ko ‘some other wise men explain nobility’ (255b1/2). +∎TchA klyom (acc. sg. klyomänt) and B klyomo reflect PTch *klyomo (acc. sg. *klyomäntä) from PIE *ḱleumōnt(s) (weak stem *ḱleumṇ-). This PIE *ḱleumṇ- provides the basis for the thematic *ḱleumṇt- seen in Sanskrit śrómata- (nt.) ‘fame, positive reputation,’ and OHG hliumunt (m.) (NHG Leumund) ‘reputation, character’ (Couvreur, 1947:16, VW:223; with differing details, H:159-160). *Ḱleumṇ- of course is a derivative of *ḱleu- ‘hear’ (cf. also Gothic hliuma (m.) ‘hearing,’ Old Norse hljómr ‘sound,’ and Avestan sraoman- ‘hearing’). In TchB the final -o proper to the nom. sg. has been extended throughout the paradigm and, except for the residual acc. sg. klyomont, the stem has been rebuilt as an n-stem throughout rather than a nt-stem (so too the TchA feminine klyomiṃ, etc.). +See Further s.v. klyaus-. +

+ + +
+

+klyauccamoṃ* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[-, -, klyauccamoṃ//] +///thitaṃ [] klyauccamoṃ [] tāmram [] (529b4). +‣As the beginning of the Sanskrit word that klyauccamoṃ glosses is lost, we cannot know its meaning. However, it would appear to be a verbal adjective to the same verb whose infinitive appears as the next entry. +

+ + +
+

+klyauccasi* +(n.) +‘electuary’
+[-, -, klyauccasi//] +kuñcitäṣṣe ṣalywe balämpa klyauccasi yamaṣle ‘sesame oil with balā [is] to be made into a paste’ (Y-2a6). +‣This looks to be an infinitive (defectively written for klyauccatsi) used as a noun. The preceding entry would appear to be the verbal adjective of the same verb. +∎Etymology uncertain. Hilmarsson (H:154-155) suggest that the Tocharian verb might reflect a PIE *glēud-sḱe/o- and be related to Old English clēot ‘clump,’ Middle Low German klōt ‘clump,’ Old English clott ‘clot, clump,’ and, without the *-d- extension, to Sanskrit glau- ‘ball, mass of something pressed into a ball,’ etc. (cf. P:361-362). +

+ + +
+

+klyaus- +(vt.) +‘hear, listen to’ [periphrastic causative klyauṣtsi ai- ‘give (someone) to hear’]
+Ps. II /klyeus^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, klyauṣäṃ// -, -, klyauseṃ; MP -, -, klyauṣär// -, -, klyausentär; AImpf. klyauṣim, -, klyauṣit// -, -, klyauṣ(i)yeṃ; MPPart. klausemane; Ger. klyauṣälle]; Ko. II [= Ps.] [A -, -, klyauṣäṃ//; AOpt. -, -, klyauṣi// -, -, klyauṣ(i)yeṃ; Inf. klyauṣ(t)si ~ klyaus(t)si]; Ipv. I /päklyauṣ/ [Sg. päklyauṣ Pl. päklyauṣ(t)so]; Pt. Ib /klyāuṣā-/ [A klyauṣawa, -, klyauṣa// -, klyauṣaso, klyauṣare; MP -, -, klyauṣate//]; PP /keklyeuṣ-/ +lalaṃṣke ksā [sic] samp wek klyauṣträ ‘this soft voice is to be heard’ (89b6), klye_uṣtr[ä] (365a1); pelaik[n]e klyauṣtsi āyor aitsi ṣek añmassu ‘always zealous to hear the law and give the gift’ (23a7), lakaṃ klyauṣäṃ wat yark=alyekepi ‘[if] he sees or hears of the honor [given] to another’ (33b4), k_use pi ksa ayi-ne pelaikne klyauṣtsi ‘who will give him to hear the law?’ (99a4), ñäkcīyai [klau]tsaisa klyaussi ‘to hear with divine ear’ (PK-AS16.2b5 [Pinault, 1989:156]); sasāllaṣ palsko[sa] ... päklyauṣ cau jāta[käṣṣe me]ske ‘hear this jātaka with humble spirit!’ (77a4/5), tū ñke taṅsa päklyauṣso ‘hear now this with love!’ (8a7); tī[rteṃts we]lyñe klyauṣare ‘they heard the talk of the tīrthas’ (19a6), orotsa kwasalñeṣṣa weśeñña klyauṣate ‘the great sound of mourning was heard’ (589b6); tu wnolmi keklyauṣoṣ ṣeyeṃ ‘the creatures had heard it’ (30b2). + -- keklyauṣor ‘that which has been heard, instruction, knowledge, tradition’: keklyauṣor = BHS śrutam (H-149.236b4 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:496]), ṣe keklyauṣor ‘this thing once heard’ (S-2a6); +
+keklyauṣormeṃ; +
+klyauṣälñe ‘hearing’: ma [sic] klyauṣälñentasa = BHS nāśravai (311b4), kreñcepi pelaikneṃtse klyauṣälyñene ‘in the hearing of the good law’ [= BHS saddharmaśravaṇ] (H-149.315a5 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:491]). +∎TchA klyos- and B klyaus- reflect PTch *klyeus-, (as if) from PIE *ḱlēus- a lengthened grade iterative-intensive of *ḱl(e)us- which appears in several different ablaut grades [: Sanskrit śróṣti ‘hears, listens,’ OHG hlosēn ‘listen,’ OCS slyšati ~ slušati ‘hear,’ Lithuanian klausaũ ‘hear’ (P:606-607; MA:262)] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:926, VW:224, H:155-156). Cf. klep- ‘touch, investigate’ (3rd sg. klyepträ), tänk- ‘check, hinder’ (3rd. pl. cenkeṃ), täk- ‘touch’ (3rd. sg. ceśäṃ), śauk- ‘call’ (3rd. sg. śauśäṃ), and Class III ("deponents"), nu- ‘shout, threaten’ (3rd. sg. ñewetär), or lu- ‘send’ (3rd. sg. lyewetär). Outside of Tocharian we can compare Latin cēdere ‘go, proceed’ or Greek mēdomai ‘devise, resolve; counsel; plot’ beside médomai ‘give heed to, attend.’ TchB klyaus- is somewhat unusual in that it has extended the lengthened grade to all forms of the paradigm; however, one might note that the preterite participle in A is kaklyuṣu, reflecting an old full-grade. Given the widely varying ablaut grades of PIE *ḱl(e)us- and the widespread productivity of ē-grade thematic formations in Tocharian, there is no need to see in klyaus- evidence that PIE *-eu- gave Tocharian -yeu- rather than -yu-. PIE *ḱl(e)us- is an élargissement of *ḱl(e)u- ‘id.’ [: Sanskrit śṛṇóti ‘hears,’ Avestan surunaoiti ‘id.’ Greek kléō ‘tell of, make famous, celebrate,’ Latin clueō ‘am known, am called,’ OCS slovǫ ‘am called, am famous,’ Albanian quhem ‘am called’ (< *ḱlu-sḱo-mai), etc. (P:605ff.; MA:262)]. +See also enklyauṣätte and, somewhat more distantly, klautso, klyomo, klāw-, and ñem-kälywe. +

+ + +
+

+kwants +‘firm,’ only attested in the compound kwäntsa-pälsko
+ṣäle ramt [t]we kwäntsa-pälsko prākre täṅwä rinäcceṃ ra mā rinästār [sic] (245a4), kwäntsa- pälsko mā rīnä[tsts]e /// ‘a firm spirit [is] not to be renounced’ (245b5). + -- kwäntsaññe ‘firm’: kwäntsaññe ja[ṭä] snai-ykorñeṣṣa po kektseñe ‘a firm braid, the whole body diligent’ (TEB- 59-27); +
+kwäntsäññeṣṣe ‘id.’: ompalskoññeṣṣi [snai keś] wärttonta pelaikneṣṣi prenki aurcci ... kārūnäṣṣe cintāmaṇi kwäntsaññeṣ[ṣe] Sumer rīye nervāṃṣṣa ‘forests without number of meditation, broad islands of righteousness, the jewel of mercy, firm Mt. Sumeru, and the nirvana-city’ (73b5/6). +∎This word is normally taken to be related to TchA kāsu ‘good’ and B kwāts ‘dearly, for much money’ (so VW:196 and Toporov, 1987). However, there seems to be no way phonologically these two words, lacking any -n-, can be connected (a PTch *kwānswo- or the like should have given A *kesu, cf. es ‘shoulder’ from *ānse [B āntse]) and, in any case, the semantic relationships are by no means compelling. It is also usual to take kwants to be from PIE *ḱwen- ‘holy’ [: Avestan spanah- ‘holiness,’ spanta- ‘holy,’ OCS svętъ ‘id.,’ Lithuanian šveñtas ‘id.,’ etc. (see Toporov, 1987)]. PIE *ḱwen- is itself a derivative of or at least related to *ḱeu(h_x)- ‘swell, become full of power’ (P:592ff.). TchB kwants might reflect a PIE *ḱun-(e)s-o- ‘± having swollenness.’ For the s-stem one should compare Avestan spanah- and possibly Gothic hunsl ‘sacrifice’ Old English hūsel ‘sacrifice, the Eucharist’ if these reflect PIE *ḱuns-lo- and not *ḱunt^s-tlo- (in any case, if Toporov and others are correct in adding Gothic hansa ‘troup, cohort’ and OHG hansa ‘escort, company,’ Ol English hōs ‘id.,’ reflecting a PGmc *hansōn- ‘Opferbrüderschaft,’ then an old s-stem is clearly attested). Hilmarsson (H:202-203), following VW (1962:181), suggests an alternative possibility, namely that we have here a Tocharian reflex of PIE *g^when- ‘swell, be filled to the brim’ [: Skt ghaná- ‘thick, compact,’ Lith ganà ‘enough,’ Grk euthenéō ‘flourish’]. +See also kuntsaññe and possibly kwāts. +

+ + +
+

+kwamo* +(n.) +only in the name of a meter śawaññe kwamo* (4 X 14 syllables; rhythm 7/7)
+[-, -, kwama//] +(PK-AS16.2a6 [Pinault, 1989]). +

+ + +
+

+kwaräṣ(e)* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘evacuation, stool’
+[-, -, kwaräṣ//] +kwaräṣ raiweṃ sticce yamaṣṣäṃ ‘it makes the stool slow and sluggish’ (ST-a2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Possibly a derivative of kwär-, q.v., and a calque on Sanskrit jīrṇ- ‘digestion, digested foods, stool’ (H:204). Not with VW (247) a compound *gū- ‘feces’ (cf. Sanskrit gūtha- ‘id.’) + *wors- ‘impurity’ (cf. A wars ‘id.’). +

+ + +
+

+kwareṃ +‘?’
+/// ̇ts ̇ kwareṃ skre/// (H:204). +

+ + +
+

+kwarm* (~ kurm ~ gurm) +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘tumor’
+[-, -, kwarm//] +yenteṣṣepi gurmantse sāṃtke ‘the remedy for wind tumor’ (497b3), kwarmne = BHS gulma- (Y-1b3). +∎From BHS gulma-. +

+ + +
+

+kwarsär +(nnt.) +‘league’ [= BHS yojana- which by various calculations is anywhere from 2.5 to 18 miles]; ‘course, path’
+[kwarsär, -, kwarsär//kwärsarwa, -, käwrsarwa] +keṃ ñor ṣukt nrainta toṃ tmān[e] ñu[ltse] kwärsarw=enkwa keṃ ... wī tmāne kwä[r]s[arw=e]tteś ñor su ‘below the earth [are] seven hells surrounding the earth [for] nine thousand leagues ... two thousand leagues below [is] it’ (45b3), päst ykuwermeṃ māka kursarwa keṃ[tsa] ‘having gone many leagues over the earth’ (574a6). +∎TchA kursär and B kwarsär reflect PTch *kwärsär, (as if) from PIE *ḱṛs-r-u- ‘a [distance of] running,’ a verbal noun from *ḱers- ‘run’ [: Latin currō ‘run’ (< *ḱṛsō), currus ‘wagon’ (< *ḱṛso-), Old Irish, Welsh carr ‘vehicle’ (= currus, > English car), MHG hurren ‘hurry,’ and probably the family represented by English horse (< *ḱṛso-) (P:583-584; MA:491)] (VW, 1941:49, 1976:245, with differing details). The development of PIE *-ṛ- to pre-Tch *-ur-, whence -wä- ~ -u- rather than *-är- may have been influenced by the following *-u-. Hilmarsson (H:204-205), at the cost of taking the Celtic as borrowings from Latin carrus, reconstructs a PIE *k^wers- for this etymon. +

+ + +
+

+kwalñe +See ku-. +

+ + +
+

+kwaṣo* +(nf.) +‘village’
+[-, -, kwaṣai//k_uṣaiñ, -, k_uṣaiṃ] +riṃne k_uṣaiṃne ostwane ṣek yeyeṃ ‘always they went in cities, villages, and houses’ (31b6), se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyanampa ytāri yaṃ p[o]staññe rano k_uṣaiymeṃ kwaṣai täṅtsi pāyti ‘[if] a monk should go [along] a road, by agreement, with nuns, even from village [to] village, pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-b2/3 [Pinault, 1984b:377]). + -- kuṣaiṣṣe ‘prtng to a village’ (540b5). +∎Etymology uncertain. TchA ṣukṣ- ‘id.’ would seem to be related in some fashion but just how is obscure. The TchB word must reflect a *kusyā- and it might be possible to see in such a form some sort of collective and compare it to the otherwise isolated Proto-Germanic *hūsa- (nt.) ‘house’ [: OHG, Old English, Old Norse hūs ‘house’]. The difference in length of the first vowel is, admittedly, a difficulty but Germanic has other examples of neo-lengthened grades of -ū- (cf. Old English hlūd ‘loud’ from PIE *ḱlutós). In any case, if the TchA form is related to the B word, it must be because TchA has some sort of prefix. Hilmarsson cogently suggests (H:197-198) the possibility of PIE *swe- ‘own’ as the prefix. (Not with VW [1941:126, 1976:464-465] are TchB kwaṣ- and A ṣukṣ- to be derived from a hypothetical *sek^wus- from *sek^w- ‘follow’; nor with Hilmarsson [H:197-198] are both to be derived from *swe-wiḱ-s-en- ‘own village,’ a proposal that is sound semantically but requires a great deal of phonological derring- do.) +

+ + +
+

+kwā- +(vt.) +‘call out to, invite’
+Ps. V /kwā-/ [MP kwāmar, -, kwātär// -, -, kwāntär; MPImpf. -, -, kwoytär// -, -, kwoyentär; MPPart. kwāmane]; Ko. V /kākā-/ [MP -, -, kākatär//; MPOpt. kākoymar, -, -//; Inf. kākatsi]; Ipv. I /pokkākā-/ [Sg. pokkāka; Pl. pokkākaṣo; Pt. Ib /kākā-/ [A -, -, kāka//; MP -, kakātai, kakāte//]; PP /kākākā-/ +kwām[a]r-c akālksa pk[w]alñemp=eṣe ‘I call out to thee out of desire and with trustfulness’ (TEB-64-07), pācer cwimp ... kwäsnāträ snai kärsto [] kwātär-ne taṅsa ‘his father laments [him] without ceasing and calls out to him in love’ (88b1), kwoytär-n=ai[w]e tallāw c^.e [lege: twe] ‘they used to invite him [to] the shelter [with the words]: ‘thou [art] unfortunate’’ (49a8), /// weśeññaisa bodhisatveṃ kwāmane ‘calling on the bodhisatva with a ... voice’ (PK-12C-a4 [Thomas, 1986:121]); tanāpate ṣamāneṃ śwātsiś kākatär ‘[if] the benefactor invites the monk to eat’ (331b2); pelaikneṣṣe kerusa piś-cmelaṣṣeṃ kakātai riśc nervānṣai ‘with the drum of the law thou didst invite [those of] the five births to the nirvana-city’ (221a2), Śrāvasti s[p]e mäskīträ omp ceṃ kāka aka[lṣ]ly[eṃ] /// ‘he found himself near Ś.; there he called out to the disciples’ (8a8), ñaṣṣa śreṣṭakeṃ kakāte-ne akālkäś ‘he besought Ś. and invited him to [make] a wish’ (22a5). + -- kākalñe ‘± invitation’ (543a1). +∎TchB kwā- must reflect a PIE *ǵ^huh_x-eh_a- ‘call up’ seen most clearly in Sanskrit hvātar- ‘invoker,’ Avestan zbātar- ‘id.,’ and the OCS infinitive zъvati ‘call up, call out.’ This *ǵ^huh_x-eh_a- is a derivative of *ǵ^hau(h_x)- ‘call up, call out’ [: Sanskrit hávate ‘calls,’ Avestan zavaiti ‘id.,’ OCS present zovǫ ‘id.,’ etc. (P:413-414; MA:89)] (VW:192, with differing details, and also Normier, 1980:269, K. T. Schmidt, 1982:365, Lindeman, 1987:300-301, and H:200-201 who start from unsuffixed *ǵ^huh_x-). +
+AB kāk-, on the evidence of the B imperative pokkāka and the A imperative p_ukāk, reflect PTch *kwāk- which must be related in some fashion to PTch kwā-. Presumably we have something on the order of *ǵ^huh_x-eh_a-k- with the same élargissement seen in tāk- (cf. the discussion in Normier, 1989:269ff., and, with differing details, H:201). +See also perhaps ñakte, kāko and akākatte. +

+ + +
+

+kwāts (or kwats?) +(adv.) +‘dearly, for much money’
+k_use ṣamāne karyor pito yamasträ olank kärnāsträ kwāts [it can also be read: kwats] plankṣäṃ pärkāwse pelkiṃ tu cwi päst [t]ärkanalle nisargi ‘whatever monk buys and sells for himself and [if] he buys cheaply and sells dearly for the sake of profit; it must be given up by him; nisargi’ (337b3). +∎Etymology unknown. Probably not related to kwants as is usually supposed. +

+ + +
+

+kwäntsa +See kwants. +

+ + +
+

+kwär- (~ kur-) +(vi.) +‘age, grow old’
+Ps. II/III /kwär(^'ä/)_e-]/ [MP -, -, kwrentär]; PP /kwäro-/ +kwreṃtär lānte kokalyi [= BHS jīryanti rājarathāḥ ‘the wagons of the king were old’ (5a8); mā r[a] kuro o[sne yänmaṣṣälle mā ra ku]ro osn[e] ṣma[l]l[e] (321a7/b1). +∎AB kwär- reflect PTch *kwär- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Semantically it would be nice to see here a descendant of PIE *ǵerh_a- ‘age, ripen’ [: Sanskrit járati ‘make old, decrepit,’ jīryati ~ jūryati ‘grows old, becomes decrepit, decays,’ járant- ‘decrepit, old; old man,’ jarás- (f.) ~ jarā- ‘old age,’ jarimán- ‘id.,’ Armenian cer ‘old; old man’ (< *ǵer(h_a)o-), Greek gérōn ‘old man,’ géras (nt.) ‘perquisite,’ geraiós ‘old,’ gẽras ‘old age,’ gēráskō ‘age, grow older,’ graũs ‘old woman,’ Albanian grua ‘id.,’ OCS zьrěti ‘ripen,’ zьrělъ ‘ripe,’ etc. (P:390-391; MA:248)] (Reuter, 1934:11, VW:244, though details differ). In particular Tocharian kw(ä)re- would reflect a putative PIE *ǵṛh_a-h₁-ó- ‘get old’ parallel to the *ǵrh_a-eh₁- seen in OCS zьrěti. We would ordinarily expect a PIE *-ṛ- to become PTch *-är-, not *-wär-. There are, however, a number of instances in various IE languages where *-Ṛ- appears as *-uR- rather than the regular outcome of *-Ṛ- would be (e.g. Sanskrit gīr ‘song of praise’ but gūrtí- ‘praise,’ Greek múllō ‘grind (grain),’ etc. It is particular noteworthy for this etymology to notice Sanskrit jūryati beside the expected jīryati ‘grows old.’ Perhaps instead of *ǵerh_a-, or crossed with it, we have PIE *g^(h)werh_x- seen otherwise only in Baltic [: Lithuanian gùrti (Ps. gùrstu, gųrù, or guraũ) ‘disintegrate, crumble, become loose, weak,’ Latvian gur̃t ‘become weak, diminish,’ Lithuanian gurlùs, Latvian gurls ‘tired, weak, frail,’ Latvian gaurs ‘loose,’ Lithuanian gvérti (Ps. gvęrù, gvérstu, or gvérau) ‘expand, break up’ (Fraenkel, 1962:179)] (cf. Normier, 1980:256). Phonologically less plausible is Hilmarsson's argument (1986a:254-257, H:203-204) that we have a descendant of PIE *d^hg^wher- ‘± melt away, perish’ [: Greek phtheírō ‘destroy,’ Albanian (v)djerr ‘lose,’ Sanskrit kṣarati ‘flows, melts away, perishes,’ Avestan ɣžaraiti ‘flows’]. +See also possibly śrāñ. +

+ + +
+

+kwäl- (~ kul-) +(vi.) +‘fail’
+Ps. III /kwäle-/ [MP -, -, kuletär//; MPImpf. -, -, kulyitär//]; Ko. V /kwälā-/ [MP -, -, kulātär//; MPOpt. -, -, kuloytär//; Inf. kulātsi]; Pt. Ia /kwälā-/ [A -, -, kula//] +mā twe ceṃne krämpitär mā ra palsko kulyitär-ś ‘thou wert never vexed about them nor did thy spirit fail’ (231a5/b1), [ne]mcek nai trem[e]ṣṣana arṣaklaṃts k_uletär maiyyo ‘surely the power of the angry snakes fails’ (278b2); [att]s[ai]k maiyyo k_ulātär-me ‘suddenly their power will fail’ (21b5), mā āk k_uloytär-ñ ‘may my zeal never fail’ (S-4a3); mā no k_ulā-ñ palsko ‘but my spirit did not fail’ (78a1), mā k_ulā-c warkṣäl ‘thy energy didn't fail’ (104a1). +∎AB kwäl- (kul-) reflect PTch *kwäl- (*kul-) but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Lane (1958:173, also VW:240) suggests a connection with Sanskrit glāyati ‘feel aversion to, be unwilling [to do something]; be languid, be exhausted’ (< *g^w(e)lh_x-). (In any case, there is no need to follow VW in seeing B kul- a borrowing from A.) Hilmarsson (1991a:65, H:201) would connect it with PIE *k^wel(h_x)- ‘turn.’ Jasanoff (1978:39-40), on the other hand, more probably suggests a connection with Lithuanian gul̃ti ‘lie down,’ gulėti ‘to lie, be prostrate,’ Latvian gulêt ‘lie, sleep,’ Lithuanian gvalščias (= gul̃ščias) ‘stretched out’ (< *gwel-), guõlis ‘resting place, couch, bed,’ Latvian guõl̨a ‘nest, bed,’ Greek gōleós ‘hole.’ Morphologically the PTch *kwälé- would be from PIE *gul-h₁-ó- parallel to Baltic *gul-eh₁-. Both VW and Jasanoff suggest further connections of their etyma with Greek bállō (act.) ‘throw, put,’ (middle) ‘put for oneself, lay down.’ For both etyma, the case for making a connection with bállō rests on an assumption that Indic or Baltic show the same stative, resultative meaning seen in Latin iacēre ‘lie, be situated, lie where thrown’ as opposed to the active, eventive meaning of iacere ‘throw, hurl.’ While widely assumed, this assumption is by no means self-evident. Frisk (1960:217), s.v. bállō, does not mention glāyati and is at best agnostic concerning gulėti. Mayrhofer (1956:354) is dubious about the equation from the Indic side and Fraenkel (1962:175-6) rejects it for Baltic (if for no other reason than the basic meaning in Baltic would appear to be ‘lie down’ and not the ‘be lying’ that this proposal would necessitate). Thus either Lane's or Jasanoff's suggestions will work phonologically, but neither is particularly compelling semantically. +

+ + +
+

+kwäs- +(vi.) +‘mourn, lament’
+Ps. VI /kwäsnā-/ [MP -, -, kwäsnātär//; MPPart. kwäsnāmane]; Ko. V /kwāsā-/ +pācer cwimp [ku]rār-lūwo tu-yäknes[a] kwäsnāträ snai kärsto ‘his father in the fashion of the kurār-animal lamented without ceasing’ (88b1), mälwāmane [lege: pälwāmane] kwasnāmane [sic] ‘wailing and mourning’ (431a3); kwāsoyeṃ (116.10) [[>] if this form belongs here, the long -ā- is very much unexpected] +‣It is possible that kusnontär (see s.v. kus-) belongs here as well. + -- kwasalñe* ‘mourning, lamentation,’ only attested in the derived adjective: kwasalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to mourning’: orottsa kwasalñeṣṣa weśeñña ‘the great voice of mourning’ (85b5). +∎From PIE *ḱwes- ‘± breathe; sigh, groan’ [: Sanskrit śvásiti ~ śvásati ‘blow, hiss, pant, snort; breathe; sigh, groan,’ Latin queror ‘complain, lament,’ Old English hwōsan (originally a lengthened-grade intensive) ‘cough’ (P:631; MA:518)] (VW:248, though he wrongly denies any relationship with Sanskrit, H:205-206, with differing details). To this etymon also belong the Iranian words for ‘lungs,’ e.g. Avestan suši (dual), Zoroastrian Pahlevi suš, New Persian šuš, Khotanese suv̨ä-, all from Proto-Iranian *suš- < *ḱus- (Bailey, 1979:428). Hilmarsson also suggests (H:206) the possibility of a PIE *ḱwei-s- and a relationship with Old Norse hvískra ‘whisper’ and OCS svistati ‘to pipe’ but the semantic distance seems too great. +

+ + +
+

+kwīpe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘shame; modesty’
+[kwīpe, -, kwīpe//] +[wsā]sta yase kwīpe alyenkäṃts ‘to others thou hast given shame and timidity’ (74a2), srukor aiśaumyepi olypo [ri]toyt[ä]r päst mā kwīpe rmoytär ‘by a wise man should rather death be sought [than that] shame should not be deflected’ (81a3/4), kwīpe lāre yamaṣṣeñca = BHS hrīniṣvi (306a1). + -- kwipe-ike ‘shame-place, i.e. penis’: ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne [sic] ‘[if] desires arise in the thought of a monk and his shame-place stands tall’ (334a3/4); +
+kwīpe-onmiṣṣe* ‘prtng to shame and regret’: kwīpe-onmiṣṣeṃ pwārasa ‘by the fires of shame and regret’ (TEB-64-10); +
+kwipeṣṣe ‘± prtng to shame’ (TEB-59-26); +
+kwipässu ‘modest’: śtwāra toṃ| ākli yamītär śrāddhe tākoy ślek [k]wipassu | āyor aiṣṣeñca ‘he must practice the four [laws], he must be faithful, and likewise modest and gift-giving’ (23a4); +
+kwipassorñe ‘modesty’: takarṣkñe taisāk kwipassorñe taisāk r=āyor ‘like belief, like modesty, and also giving’ [kwipassorñe = BHS hrī] (23a2/3). +∎TchA kip and B kwipe would appear to reflect a PTch *kwäipe with a rebuilt zero-grade *-äi- (Adams, 1978). (Note there seems to be no way in which we could have had PTch *-ī- from PIE *-ī- or *-ei- here because such an *-ī- would have palatalized the preceding consonant). That it has a rebuilt zero-grade strongly suggests that PTch *kwäipe was still paradigmatically derivable from a verb *kwäip- ‘feel shame.’ Such a verb may underlie kwipeññ- or the latter may be what it looks like, namely a denominative, that has replaced the basic verb. Extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. It has been suggested that PTch *kwäip- is a derivative of a PIE *g^wheib^h- seen otherwise in Germanic *wīva- (nt.) ‘woman.’ Germanic *wīva- (nt.) presupposes a PIE *g^wheib^hom and a semantic development ‘shame’ > ‘vulva’ > ‘woman’ (for the first change we have a partial parallel in B kwipe-ike). The lineaments, if not the exact details, of this etymology go back to a suggestion by K. H. Schmidt. However, such a form would almost certainly have give PTch *käip- and not *kwäip- (see also H:208-211 who starts from *g^whih₁eb^ho-, though to my mind we would still have expected palatalization in such a form). Not with VW (216) do we have a relationship with Latin inquināre ‘to befoul, pollute, stain.’ +See also kwipe-ññ- and onkipṣe. +

+ + +
+

+kwipe-ññ- +(vi.) +‘be ashamed’
+Ps. XII /kwipeññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, kwipentär// -, -, kwipeññentär]; Pt. V /kwipeññā-/ [MP -, -, kwipeññate//] +sū cew yāmorsa prāskaṃ māka kwipentär ‘he, by this deed, fears and is very much ashamed’ (K-3b5), cey cew yāmorsa mā parskaṃ mā ykāṃṣenträ mā kwipeññenträ mā onmiṃ yamaskenträ ‘they, by this deed, do not fear, feel no revulsion, are not ashamed and do not repent’ (K-2b6); lyāka Ānandeṃ kwipeññate tusa cek warñai ‘he saw A. and was ashamed over something’ (44b7). +∎A denominative verb derived from kwīpe. +

+ + +
+

+Kwirapabhadra* +(n.) +‘Vīrabhadra’ (PN of a gandharva)
+[-, -, Kwirapabhadra//] +(296b8). +

+ + +
+

+kwentse +‘?’
+The only word visible at W-20b2. +

+ + +
+

+kwerse* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, kwersentse, -//] +ṣpakiye kwersentse ‘a pill for kwerse’ (W-31a6/b1). +‣The name of a disease or the name of a medical ingredient? +

+ + +
+

+kwele +(adj.) +‘black’ or ‘dark grey’
+[m: kwele, -, -//-, -, kweleṃ] +- yatästsy aunantär-ne ṣañ śāmna kektseñ kweleṃ erke/// ‘his own people began to decorate [his] body with grey and black ...’ (118b2), kwele = BHS kāḍaśyāma- (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [K. T. Schmidt, 1984:153]). Perhaps also in /// kärkalle k_uwelesa /// if ‘in the dark pond’ (319b1). +∎Probably with Hilmarsson (H:207-208) from *ḱiwo-lo-, an extension of the *ḱiwo- seen in Germanic *hiwa- ‘color, esp. gray’ [: Old Norse hȳ ‘fine (esp. gray) hair,’ Old English hīw ‘color,’ Gothic hiwi ‘appearance’] and more distantly to Sanskrit śiti- ‘white,’ śyāva- ‘dark, blackish brown,’ Avestan syāva- ‘black,’ Lithuanian šyvas ‘grayish white,’ OCS sivъ ‘gray’ (P:540-541; MA:246). +

+ + +
+

+kwrakar +(n.) +‘upper room, apartment on top of the house’
+/// [lā]ntänmpa wayaṃ kwra[kar su]mer ṣle mänt (572a2). +∎Like TchA k_urekār, from BHS kūṭagāra-. +

+ + +
+

+kwrarāk +(n.) +‘Moringa oleifera Lam.’ = ‘M. pterygosperma Gaertn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kwrarāk, -, -//] +(ST-a5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+kwrāṣe +(nf.) +‘skeleton’
+[kwrāṣe, -, kwrāṣ/kwrāṣ, -, -/-, -, kwrāṣäṃ] +kete no āñme wī aulareṃ eweta tarkatsi śamñana wī kwrāṣ tainaisñä ñemtsa näsait yamaṣle ‘to whomever [is] the wish to set at odds two companions, two human skeletons, in the name of the two a spell [is] to be cast’ (M-3a7), kwri āñme tākaṃ-ne śāmña kwrāṣe weñi ‘[if] there is the wish: may a human skeleton speak!’ (M-3b5). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (248) suggests a compound wherein the kwr- is related to Greek gūrós ‘round’ and -āṣe is related to Tocharian ās- ‘dry out.’ More probably Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985b:112) suggests a borrowing from Middle Iranian *gurāš ‘screen, defense, enclosure’ (< *vi-rāxša-) which developed semantically > ‘framing’ > ‘skeleton.’ One would feel better about the proposal if the Iranian were not all so hypothetical. Hilmarsson suggests (H:211) a PIE *k^werh₂-es-en- ‘± form’ from *k^werh₂- seen in Lithuanian kùrti ‘to build, construct,’ Greek téras ‘sign, omen’ (P:641-642; MA:362). This proposal seems much more satisfactory than the others. +

+ + +
+

+kwri (~ kr_ui) +(conj.) +‘if, whenever’
+kwri war tākaṃ yolmene wināññenträ omp lwāsa laksäṃ warñai ‘if there is water in the pool, the animals there will enjoy fish, etc.’ (11b4), ñśameṃ wätkoṣ kr_ui lkācer ñī soṃśke | ptsārwaṣṣat-ne ñi ykene ‘if you see my son [who is] separated from me, encourage him for me’ (88b2/3), kr_ui twe pärweṣṣa [lege: pärweṣṣe] lac ‘if thou hadst first gone out’ (224a2), lkoym-c kr_ui ynemane ypauna kwṣainne ‘whenever I would see thee going about in countries and villages’ (246a1), kwri = BHS yadi (251a2), cmetär ka ksa kr_ui nemcek postäṃ sruketrä ‘if someone is born, surely later he dies’ (284a2/3), mā kwri = BHS no cet (547a6), kwri tu rinträ ot kārsau-ne auspa ‘if he renounces it, then I will know him better’ (AMB-b2), pañäktentse procer Nānde ñem kr_ui sāṅne yapi sklokacci ṣamāni ywārc mäskīyenträ ‘the Buddha's brother, Nānda [by] name, whenever he would enter the community, the monks were doubtful between [them] [i.e. which was the Buddha and which was Nānda]’ (H-149.X.4b2 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), kr_ui rāpoy = BHS sacet khanet (H-149.112a3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1939-32:493]), kwri āñme tākaṃ-ne śāmña kwrāṣe weñi ‘if there is the wish: may a human skeleton speak!’ (M-3b5). +∎TchA kupre ‘how’ (kuprene ‘if’) and B kwri reflect PTch *kwäpräi, in turn from the PIE interrogative/relative pronoun *k^wu- (for a further discussion of which, see k_use) + *-bhroi for which one should compare Greek óphra ‘that, in order that; so long as, while’ (< *yo-bhra) and tóphra ‘up to that time, so long.’ One should note that Greek tóphra matches in essential points TchA täpreṃ ‘so much, to such a degree,’ (as if) from PIE *tu-bhroi + some particle, where we have *tu- rather than *to- on the model of *k^wu-bhroi with which it was originally correlative (it has become the correlative of kospreṃ ‘as much, how much’). Cf. VW (243-244) though surprisingly he does not mention óphra and tóphra, and H:212. +

+ + +
+

+kṣaṇak +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘momentary, transient’
+(175b2). +∎From BHS kṣaṇaka-. +See also kṣāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+kṣatriññe* +(n.) +‘quality of being a warrior’ (?)
+[-, -, kṣatriññe//] +kṣatriññempa āklu ñiś sakne aukṣu läkle[nta] /// (89a1). +∎If an abstract noun derived from kṣatriye*. +

+ + +
+

+kṣatriye* +(n.) +‘warrior’
+[//kṣatri, kṣatriyeṃts, kṣatriyeṃ] +wi-ppewänne kṣattaryi śpālmeṃ ‘the kshatriyas [are] the best of the two-footed [beings]’ (PK-AS16.2a1 [Pinault, 1989:154]). +∎From BHS kṣatriya-. +See also kṣatriññe*. +

+ + +
+

+kṣaṃ, kṣana-yärm +See kṣāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+kṣantiññe +See kṣānti. +

+ + +
+

+kṣayajñānaṃ +(n.) +‘knowledge of perishability’
+(591a6). +∎From BHS kṣayajñāna-. +

+ + +
+

+kṣāṃ* (~ kṣaṃ*) +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘instant’
+[-, -, kṣaṃ//-, -, kṣananma] +śak-piś kṣananm=epiṅte pīś āntsi dharmacākkär ñem ‘among the 15 instants [are] the five elements, Dharmacakra [by] name’ (30b6). + -- kṣana-yärm* ‘the measure of an instant’: [yolone] palsko wīna mā källoy-ñ kṣana-yärmne ‘may my spirit find no pleasure in evil [even] for the measure of an instant’ (S-8b4). +∎From BHS kṣaṇa-. +See also kṣaṇak. +

+ + +
+

+kṣātre (~ kṣāttre) +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘umbrella’
+[kṣātre, -, kṣātre//] +ton n[o] uppālnta kṣāttre [ra]mt āṣtsā pū[dñ]äkte[ntse ścma]re ‘these lotuses however stood over the head of the Buddha like an umbrella’ (365a2/3), su mäsketrä śaiṣṣentse kṣāttre tatākau ‘he has become an umbrella for the world’ (K-9a6). +∎From BHS *kṣattra-, a hyper-Sanskritism of the more usual chattra-. +

+ + +
+

+kṣānti +(n.) +‘forgiveness’
+[kṣānti, -, kṣānti//] +weña pudñikteśc kṣānti pyām ñi ‘he said to the Buddha: forgive me’ (K-3b1), ciṣṣe saimäś kloyomar nauyto-ñ [sic] yāmor kāntoytär-ñ k[ṣā]nt[i] tākoy-ñ ‘I fall to thy refuge; may my deed be destroyed, may I wash myself of it, may I have forgiveness!’ (TEB-64-11). + -- kṣantiññe ‘forgiveness’: arṣāklo [ce]mpa som wer śconai tarkatsi k_uṣantiññe ñśīträ ‘the snake sought with this one to release hate and enmity and [have] forgiveness’ (42a7). +∎From BHS kṣānti-. +

+ + +
+

+kṣirakākoṭ ~ kṣīrakakori +(n.) +‘Gymnena lactiferum’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kṣīrakākoṭ, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS kṣīrakakolī-. +

+ + +
+

+kṣīrabiḍāri ~ kṣīrapitari +(n.) +‘Batatas paniculata Choisy’ (a medical ingredient)
+[kṣīrabiḍāri ~ kṣīrapitari, -, -//] +(W-7a5, W-39b2). +∎From BHS kṣīravidārī-. +

+ + +
+

+kṣudrä +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘small, of little worth’
+kṣudrä k_uśāni wyai ta[kā]re 3067 ‘minderwertige k_uśāne waren 3067 Ausgabe’ [Sieg, 1950:221] (490b-II-3). +∎From BHS kṣudra-. +

+ + +
+

+kṣuṃ* +(n.) +‘regnal period, reign’
+[-, -, kṣuṃ//] +ṣkas kṣuntsa Kṣemārjune lānti [lege: Kṣemārjuni lānte] yakwe-pikulne śkañce meṃne ‘in the sixth year of the reign of king K., in the tenth month’ (G-Su34.1), ikäṃ trai kṣuṃntsa śtarce meṃne ‘in the 23rd regnal year, in the fourth month’ (KLOST.37,22 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]). +∎Etymology uncertain. It is related in some fashion to Khotanese kṣuṇa- ‘period of time, regnal period’ and Tumšuquese xšana- ‘id.’ (for which one should consult Bailey, 1979:69). However, the lack of agreement between the two closely related northeastern Iranian languages and the difficulty of finding a convincing inner-Iranian etymology for kṣuṇa- and xšana- suggest that the Tocharian, Khotanese, and Tumšuquese words may all be borrowings from some other source. +

+ + +
+

+kṣur* +(n.) +‘knife’
+[-, -, kṣur//-, -, kṣuranma] +[kärsta] ṣpä paine kṣurs[a] ‘and he cut off [his] feet with a knife’ (21a5), kṣuranma kāṃtsāre k_uśāneṃtsa 250 ‘they filed the knives for 250 k_uśānes’ (490a-III-5). +∎From BHS kṣura-. +

+ + +
+

+Kṣemankar(e) +(n.) +‘Kṣemankara’ (PN)
+[Kṣemankar(e), -, Kṣemankar(e)//] +(74b2, 400b4, Qumtura 34-g-3 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+Kṣemate +(n.) +‘Kṣemate’ (PN)
+[Kṣemate, -, -//] +(Lévi, 1913:312). +

+ + +
+

+Kṣemateworśa* +(n.) +‘Kṣemadevorśa’ (PN in caravan passes)
+[-, Kṣemateworśantse, Kṣemateworśai//] +(LP-5a1/2). +

+ + +
+

+Kṣemawarme +(n.) +‘Kṣemavarma’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Kṣemawarme, Kṣemawarmentse, -//] +(463a3). +

+ + +
+

+Kṣemārjune* +(n.) +‘Kṣemārjuna’ (PN of a king)
+[-, Kṣemārjuni, -//] +(G-Su34.1). +

+ + +
+

+Kṣemika +(n.) +‘Kṣemika’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Kṣemika, -, //] +(490a-I-3). +

+ + +
+

+kṣai* +(n.) +‘tuberculosis’
+[-, -, kṣai//] +(H-149.14b1). +∎From BHS kṣaya-. +

+ + +
+

+ksa +(indefinite pronominal adjective) +‘some, any’
+[acc. = kca, gen. = ket ra, qq.v.] +[ma]nt śāmn[aṃ]ts śaul tne kos śaiṃ ksa kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne kärsnātr attsaik postäṃ ‘so [is] the life of men, as much as someone lives, in the passing of days and months it is later cut off’ (3b5), [mā] stemye ksa [ne]säṃ śaulantse ‘there is no permanence to life’ (3b7), ceṃ ksa yāmtär appamāt wrocce lupṣtär nraisa ‘[if] someone does badly by him, he will be thrown in a great hell’ (31b1), mā lipeträ ksa ... ma nta ksa campya srūkalñe taṅt[s]i ‘nothing remains; nothing at all could stop death’ (46b3), mantanta ksa ṣp nāge campi pältak swese swāsästsi ‘never could any nāga make a drop of rain to rain’ (350a3), käryorttau ksa lyakā-ne ‘a certain merchant saw him’ (593a4). +∎It is clear that ksa (acc. kca) must be closely related to the interrogative/relative k_use (acc. k_uce). It would appear that ksa is the old feminine *k^wu-seh_a. If so, the expected feminine acc. *k^wu-teh_a(m) has been analogically replaced on the model of k_uce (VW:237 and Adams, 1988c:157). It is, however, a little difficult to understand why the masculine should have been generalized to interrogative and relative functions while the feminine has been generalized to all indefinite functions. An alternative possibility is to see ksa and kca as k_use and k_uce plus some sort of particle *-ā but I know of nothing in Tocharian or more widely in Indo-European that would fit the bill. (See also H:183-184.) +

+ + +
+

+ktsaitstse +(adj.) +‘old (of age)’
+[m: ktsaitstse, -, -/ktsaitstsi, -, -/] [f: -, -, ktsaitsñai//] +ksaise [sic] ṣamāne ‘an old monk’ (400b1), ktsaitsñai preścyaine ‘in the time of old-age’ (K-5a6), /// [or]otstse-pacere nesteñy antpī ktsaitsī eś-lmoṣ ‘my grandfathers are both old and blind’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [K. T. Schmidt, 1987:288]). + -- ktsaitstsäññe ‘old-age’: tuyknesa ktsaitsñe srūka[lñe] śaul kältsenträ wnolmentso ‘thus old-age and death drive the life of beings’ [ktsaitsñe = BHS jarā] (3a3/4), cmelñe ṣärmameṃ ktsaitsäññe srūkalñe ‘from birth [come] old-age and death’ [= BHS jātipratyayaṃ jarāmaraṇm] (156a4); +
+ktsaitstsäññeṣṣe ‘prtng to old-age’ (613a3). +∎TchA ktsets ‘± finished, perfect, excellent’ and B ktsaitstse reflect PTch *ktsaitstse ‘± finished’ (the B use is probably originally metaphorical) but extra-Tocharian cognates are unknown. Because of the TchA word, VW (237-238) and Pinault (1990:179-181) are probably right to reject the traditional equation (whose evidence is best marshaled by Anreiter, 1987b:107-110) with Greek phthínō ‘perish’ and Sanskrit kṣiṇāti ‘destroys’ (Anreiter reconstructs *g^whþoi-tyo-). However, VW's own equation with Old Norse heyja ‘execute, accomplish’ and Old English hēgan ‘perform, achieve’ is not very convincing. As an alternative, Hilmarsson suggests (H:186-187) an adjectival derivative to an underlying *kätsō-, itself from a putative PIE *ǵh₁i-tyon- from *ǵeh₁i- ‘bud, blossom, ripen.’ +

+ + +
+

+khadīr +(n.) +‘Acacia catechu Willd.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[khadīr, -, -//] +(W-18a3). + -- khadiräṣṣe ‘prtng to Acacia catechu’ (M-2a2) +∎From BHS khadira-. +

+ + +
+

+khare* +(n.) +‘ass, donkey’
+[-, -, khare//] +(511a1). +∎From BHS khara-. +

+ + +
+

+Gank +See Gānk. +

+ + +
+

+gangavāluk +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘like Ganges-sand’ [measuring innumerability]
+pudñäkti gangavāluk nauṣaṃñi läktsau[ñ]ai[sa] ... lyaukar śaiṣṣeṃ ‘earlier buddhas, [numerous as] Ganges-sand, illuminated through [their] enlightenment the worlds’ (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Couvreur, 1954c:90]). +∎From BHS *gangā-vālukā- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +See also Gānk. +

+ + +
+

+gaṇt* +(n.) +‘calculation, reckoning’
+[//-, -, gaṇtänta] +(36a7). +∎From BHS gaṇta-. +

+ + +
+

+gaje +(n.) +‘elephant’
+[gaje, -, -//] +(511a1). +∎From BHS gaja-. +

+ + +
+

+gat* +(n.) +‘motion’ (?), ‘event’ (?)
+[-, -, gat//] +///murt wai ruṣ [lege: rup] mā gat yaik[u] tākaṃ-ne snai käṣṣiṃ cwi snai akṣalñe āryamārg ṣe twasastär (591b4). +∎If from BHS gata-. +

+ + +
+

+gandha +(n.) +‘perfume’
+[gandha, -, -//] +(W-36b4). +∎From BHS gandha-. +

+ + +
+

+gandhakāri +(n.) +‘Solanum xanthocarpum Schrad’ (a medical ingredient)
+[gandhakāri, -, //] +(501a5). +∎By a false etymological equation with gandha- for kaṇṭkāri (Maue, 1990). +

+ + +
+

+gandharasopavicār* +(n.) +‘neighborhood of odor and taste’
+[//-, -, gandharasopavicāränta] +(173a4). +∎From BHS *gandharasopavicāra- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+gandharve* +(nm.) +‘heavenly being’
+[//gandharvi, -, -] +(73b5). +∎From BHS gandharva-. +

+ + +
+

+Gayākāśyape +(n.) +‘Gayākāśyapa’ (PN)
+[Gayākāśyape, -, -//] +(108a3). +

+ + +
+

+Gayāśirṣ +(n.) +‘Gayāśīrṣa’ (PN of a mountain)
+[Gayāśirṣ, -, -//] +(108b2). +

+ + +
+

+Gaye +(n.) +‘Gaya’ (PN)
+[Gaye, -, -//] +(108b2). +

+ + +
+

+garurñaiṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: -, -, garurñaiṣṣai//] +garurñeṃṣṣai [lege: garurñaiṣṣai] ypai/// (362a8). +

+ + +
+

+Gānk +(nf.) +‘Ganges’ (PN of a river)
+[Gānk, -, Gānk//] +Gānkne kekmu mäkte yaiku nāki ṣesa reṣṣäṃ war [] samudrämpa ‘as the water [that has] come into the Ganges faultless flows together with the ocean’ (30a4), Gāṅ pelaikneṣṣai keṃtsa cärkāsta astaryai ‘thou didst release the righteous Ganges over the pure earth’ (TEB-59-31). +∎From BHS Gangā-. +See also Kank and gangavāluk. +

+ + +
+

+guṇanirdeśne +‘?’
+/// guṇanirdeśne i/// (578b6). +

+ + +
+

+guṇapadārth +(n.) +‘?’
+dravyimeṃ guṇapa[dārth] (191a4). +∎From BHS *guṇapadārtha- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton]. +

+ + +
+

+Guṇasaṃpade +(n.) +‘Guṇsaṃpada’ (PN)
+[Guṇsaṃpade, -, Guṇsaṃpadeṃ//] +(103a6). +

+ + +
+

+gu* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cave’ [as residence of monk]
+[-, -, gu//gunma, -, -] +śleye [sic] guṇ [lege: gune] co [lege: cau] = BHS śailaguhāyām (294a9), wane [lege: gune] (296a9). +∎From BHS guhā-. +

+ + +
+

+Gunacaṃdre +(n.) +‘Guṇacandra’ (PN in graffitto)
+[Gunacaṃdre, -, -//] +(G-Su3). +

+ + +
+

+guruci +See kuruci. +

+ + +
+

+gurm +See kwarm. +

+ + +
+

+Gṛddhrakūl* +(n.) +‘Gṛdhrakūṭ’ (‘Vulture Peak’ ) (PN of a mountain)
+[-, -, Gṛddhrakūl//] +(44b5). +

+ + +
+

+gairik +(n.) +‘yellow arsenic’ (a medical ingredient)
+[gairik, -, -//] +(P-2b4). + -- gairikäṣṣe ‘prtng to yellow arsenic’ (P-2b3). +∎From BHS gairika-. +

+ + +
+

+gairipcik +‘?’
+/// [e]ṃṣke gairipcik [k]lāṅ/// (419a3). +

+ + +
+

+gottär +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘family, race, lineage, kin’
+[gottär, -, gottär//] +g[o]tt[arsa] = BHS gotreṇa (309a1), se gotträ klyomoṃts ‘this family of the noble [ones]’ (597a4). +∎From BHS gotra-. +See also kottär. +

+ + +
+

+govika +(n.) +‘cowherder's wife, woman cowherder’ (?)
+[govika, govikantse, govikai//] +govikai śamñā (619b3), govikai lyelya[kormeṃ] (620a4). +∎The meaning is assigned on the basis of the word's presumed connection with BHS gopikā-. +

+ + +
+

+gośagat +See kośagat. +

+ + +
+

+gautamñe +(adj.) +‘prtng the Gautama Buddha’
+[m: gautamñe, -, - (voc. gautamñu)//] +gautamñe ṣamāne ste ‘he is Buddhist [lit. Gautaman] monk’ (115b4). +∎An adjective derived from *Gautam ‘Gautama’ from BHS Gautama-. +

+ + +
+

+gautamī +(adj.) +‘related to Gautama’ (?)
+gautamī cmelṣṣā/// (344.2a). +

+ + +
+

+gaurap +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘important’
+yāmṣawa [] dipamāl orocce gaurap takarṣkñesa poyśi nessiś ñiś ‘I made the great, important row of lights in order by faith to become a Buddha’ (400a4/3). +∎From BHS gaurava-. +

+ + +
+

+grakṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: -, -, grakṣe//] +/// [śau]l[a]sw entwe ce ṣalywesa grakṣe wakanma /// (428a5). +

+ + +
+

+granth +See krānt. +

+ + +
+

+grahanma* +(n.pl.) +‘planets’
+[//-, -, grahanma] +[ṣamāne]ntsa wawārp[au] grahanman[e] m[e]ñe ra ṣpäk tāsātai ‘and like the moon [amongst] the planets has thou set thyself surrounded by monks’ (221b1). +∎From BHS graha-. +

+ + +
+

+graheṃ* +(n.) +‘demoniacal possession’
+[-, -, graheṃ//] +(ST-b6). +∎From BHS grahaṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+ṅke +(conj.) +‘then’
+toṃ mā tākoṃ śaiṣṣene mā ṅke tsaṅko[y] pudñäkte ‘[if] these [scil. sickness, old-age, and death] were not in the world, then the Buddha would not arise’ (5a6), [po spe]l[k]e pyāmtso warkṣältsa ñiś yesäṃ pānto | mā walke ṅke ñiś ksemar tu postäṃ onmiṃ tākaṃ-me ‘perform every zeal with energy [for] I [am] your help; [it is] not long then and I will go to extinction and after that you will have regret’ (29a8), cey ṅke laitkeṃ kautaṃ pyapyaiṃ taṃtsäskeṃ ‘they then cut the creepers and scatter the flowers’ (589a3), k_uce te-mant wñāwa tu ṅke weñau anaiśai ‘what I have so said, that, then, will I now speak clearly’ (K-2a6), weñau ṅke pklyauṣso po āñmtsa ‘I will speak; then hear [it] with all [thy] soul’ (K-8a3). +∎A reduced form of ñake, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+-c +enclitic second person singular pronoun. +See tuwe. +

+ + +
+

+Cakule +(n.) +‘Cakule’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Cakule, Cakulentse, -//] +(462a6). +

+ + +
+

+cake +(nnt.) +‘river’
+[cake, ckentse, cake//ckenta, -, ckenta] +cake = BHS nadī (3a4), wrotsana ckenta kaumaiño samudtärnta kätkron=epinkte kaunts=osonträ ‘great rivers and pools between oceans are dried up by the sun’ (45b7), ckentse manarkaisa nyagrot stām ñor atiyaisa lyama ‘he sat on the grass beneath the nigrodha-tree on the bank of the river’ (107b5). +∎TchB cake reflects PTch *cäke from PIE *tekos or *tekont (nt.) ‘that which flows,’ a derivative of *tek- ‘run, flow’ [: Sanskrit tákti ‘hastens, rushes along,’ Avestan tačati ‘runs, hastens, flows,’ Albanian ndjek ‘follow,’ Old Irish techid ‘flees,’ Lithuanian tekù ‘rush, flow; rise (of the sun),’ and numerous nominal derivatives (P:1059-1060; MA:491)] (Lidén, 1916:35, VW:249). As VW points out TchB cake is very strong evidence that the PIE root was *tek- rather than *tek^w- as has often been assumed. What appears to be evidence for the latter must be taken rather as indications of the widespread use of an enlarged *tek-w-. +

+ + +
+

+cakkartse +See cākkär. +

+ + +
+

+Cakravār +(n.) +‘Cakravāḍa’ (PN of a mountain)
+[Cakravār, -, -//] +Cakravār ṣale (525a4). +

+ + +
+

+cakravārt +(n.) +‘world-ruler’
+[cakravārt, -, -//] +(571a3). + -- cakravārtñe ‘world rulership’ (78a2) +∎From BHS cakravartin-. +

+ + +
+

+cakravārtti +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘prtng to the rulership of the world’
+[cakravārtti, -, -//] +(381b4). + -- cakravārttiññe (adj.) ‘prtng to world-crulership’; (n.) ‘world-rulership’: käṣṣī-pañäkte cakravārtiññe rintsate ‘the Buddha-teacher renounced world-rulership’ (349a2), [cakravā]rttiṃñe cākkär ‘the wheel of world-rulership’ (419a4); +
+cakravartti-lantuññe* (n.) ‘world rulership’; (adj.) ‘prtng to world kingship’: cakravartti-lantuññe īke ṣpä kälpāṣṣäṃ näno näno ‘he achieves the place of a world-ruler again and again’ (K-9b1). +∎From BHS cakravartin-. +

+ + +
+

+cakṣurvijñāṃ +(n.) +‘knowledge gained by sight’
+(194a7). +∎From BHS *cakṣur-vijñāna- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+cagala +(n.) +‘wine’
+[cagala, -, -//] +(W-23b5). +∎From BHS jagala-. +

+ + +
+

+canke +(n.) +‘lap; bosom, breast, chest; [individual] breast’
+[canke, -, canke/cankene, -, -/-, -, cankeṃ] +cankene ṣlentse śtwer lāñ[c] ‘in the lap of the mountain [there were] four kings’ (76a3), /// [ca]nke sasainu osne ṣmalle ‘[he is] to sit in a house with arms akimbo’ (322a1), /// karpa mäkte kolmaine cänke wä/// (389b8), kränkaiñai maikisa kaucä cankesa kātso sonopalya śār kātsasa walanalle śanmäṣṣälle cankene nautse[ne] (or perhaps nauts[an]e or nauts[i]?) mäskeṃtär ‘high over the breast the stomach [is] to be anointed with chicken broth; over the stomach a covering [is] to be bound; the breasts become shining’ (W-14b1/3). +∎While obviously related in some fashion to TchA cwanke ‘id.’ the nature of that relationship is elusive. The difference in vowels and stem-formation, A cwanke presupposing a PTch *cw'enkāi- and B canke presupposing a PTch *cw'änke-, make it impossible to see these words as reflexes of a single PTch protoform. One should note that phonologically PTch *w'- gives A w- but B y- (cf. A want, B yente ‘wind’ from PTch *w'ente). A simplification of *cy- to c- in B presents no difficulty. Perhaps the pre-TchA form is a vṛddhied derivative of the unvṛddhied form reflected in TchB. The relationship between the two Tocharian words would be parallel but reversed to that seen in A śiśäk (unvṛddhied) and B ṣecake (vṛdhhied) ‘lion.’ Extra-Tocharian morphological parallels include Sanskrit pārśva- ‘region of the ribs’ beside parśu- ‘rib’ and Hittite hīla- ‘courtyard’ beside hāli- ‘fold, corral.’ It is not necessary to see a borrowing from one language to the other (both Winter, 1972:386, and VW:253 assume a borrowing from B to A). In his review of VW (1987), Winter later (1980[81]) suggests a relationship of this word with twānk-, q.v., assuming the latter to mean ‘± force in, confine.’ However, since twānk- probably means ‘± wear, put on’ or ‘take off,’ such a connection is not likely semantically. +

+ + +
+

+cankramit +(n.) +‘one who has walked about, promenaded’
+[said, e.g. of the Buddha] +(360b4). +∎From BHS cankramita-. +

+ + +
+

+Cañca +(n.) +‘Cañcā’ (PN of a woman)
+[Cañca, -, Cañcai//] +(18b6). +

+ + +
+

+Caṇḍāyne +‘?’
+/// [R]ājabhadre ṣpä Caṇḍāyne pūy ̇/// (507a3). +

+ + +
+

+caṇḍāle* +(n.) +‘outcast’
+[-, caṇḍālentse, -//caṇḍāli, -, -] +caṇḍālentse w[a]sts[i] ‘an outcast's clothes’ (118a5). +∎From BHS caṇḍāla-. +

+ + +
+

+cat +(n.) +a kind of snake
+[cat, -, -//] +[arṣā]klo auk catä tsākaṃ tesa näsait y[amaṣle] ‘[if] a snake, viper, or cat bites, in such [a case] the spell [is] to be made’ (503a2). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+caturdāś* +(n.) +‘the fourteenth day of a lunar fortnight’
+[-, -, caturdāś//] +(511b2). + -- caturdasaṣṣe* [sic] ‘prtng to the fourteenth day of a lunar fortnight’ (490a-I-5). +∎From BHS caturdaśa-. +

+ + +
+

+cantāṃ +(n.) +‘sandalwood (tree)’ [Santalum album Linn.] (a medical ingredient)
+[cantāṃ -, -//] +(W pasim). + -- candāṃ-were ‘smell of sandalwood’ (376a3). +∎From BHS candana-. +

+ + +
+

+Candramukhe +(n.) +‘Candramukha’ (PN of a king)
+[Candramukhe, Candramukhi, -//] +(88b6). +

+ + +
+

+Candrāvasu +(n.) +‘Candrāvasu’ (PN)
+[Canmdrāvasu, -, Candrāvasuṃ//] +(418a3). +

+ + +
+

+Candre +(n.) +‘Candra’ (PN of a monk)
+[Candre, -, -//] +(433a20). +

+ + +
+

+capraṣṭo +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[capraṣṭo, -, -//] +(W-26a4). +

+ + +
+

+camel +(nnt.) +‘birth, rebirth; birthform [i.e. form taken in a rebirth]’
+[camel, cmelntse, camel//-, cmelaṃts, cmela] +[pi]ś cmelane ‘in the five birthforms’ (11a2), alyek cmelne ṣpä ñäkcye cmetsi śaiṣṣene ‘and to be born in the divine world in another birth’ [alyek cmelne = BHS pretya] (14a6), snai keś cmela = BHS anekadhātu (30a3), mātri kātsane camel enka[lñeś] ‘in order to grasp birth in the womb of the mother’ (113a3), to to [lege: toṃ toṃ] cmelane = BHS tāsu tāsupapattiṣu (358a1), cmelane su mäsketrä śaiṣṣentse kṣāttre tatākau ‘he has become in [his re-]births an umbrella for the world’ (K-9a6). + -- cmelṣe ‘prtng to a [re-]birth’: cmelṣe serkentse ‘of the cycle of birth’ (158b2), /// wnolmets piś cmelṣe[ts] ‘beings of the five births’ (347b2); +
+cmel(ä)tstse* ‘belonging to the family of, related’: = BHS jātīya- (533a2); +
+cmelaṣṣe ‘prtng to [re-]births’: cmelāṣṣe serke = BHS jātisaṃsāro (542b7). +∎TchA cmol and B camel reflect PTch *cämel, a nomen actionis from täm-, ‘be born,’ q.v. The rounding of PTch *-e- to -o- is regular after a bilabial in TchA. +

+ + +
+

+campākäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Michelia campaka’ Linn.
+(M-2a5). +∎An adjective built from an unattested *campāk from BHS campaka-. +

+ + +
+

+cayane* +(n.) +‘± distributer’ (?)
+[//-, cayaneṃts, -] + /// k_uśāneṃ nmeṃ cayaneṃts k_uśāneṃ wasam [some illegible number] ‘from the ... k_uśanes we gave to the cayanes ... k_uśānes’ (490b-I-2). +∎If from BHS cayana- (see Sieg, 1950:220). +

+ + +
+

+Caracāte +(n.) +‘Caracāte’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Caracāte, -, -//] +(464a5). +

+ + +
+

+carit* +(n.) +‘motion; behavior; proper observance’
+[-, -, carit//] +yāmṣa śalānta cari[t pernesa] ‘he created disputes concerning the proper observance’ (37a7). +∎From BHS carita-. +

+ + +
+

+carke* +(n.) +‘garland’
+[//-, -, cärkenta] +tusa tane cärkenta källā[skau] ‘thus I bring the garlands here’ (92a6). +∎A nominal derivative of ²tärk-. +

+ + +
+

+calle +(n.) +‘± burden, load’ or ‘impediment’ (?)
+[calle, -, -//] +/// pyāmtsar calle walke lyat (606a1), śūkentane trenkältsa perne peñyo muskī[ntär ] enkalñentse ṣarmtsa ywārc yärtoṣ lk[ā]ntär wertsyaṃne | calle ṣ wesäṃ miṣenta lauk[e] tarkam enkalñe | warto-wṣeṃñai saimtsa wes śayeṃ omte pintwātsa ‘because of avidity for tastes, rank and glory disappeared; because of attachment [to the material world], [those] half-pulled [to the world] are seen among the assemblies; and a burden [or ‘impediment’?] to us [are our] fields; we will set far our avidity; in the refuge of a forest-dwelling we will live there by alms’ (PK-AS16.2a3/ [Pinault, 1989:155]). +∎Whatever its meaning, it is presumably a derivative of täl- ‘raise, lift’, (as if) from a PIE *telno- (cf. Greek téllō ‘rise [of the sun]’ for the form and tlênai ‘bear’ for the meaning). +See also täl-. +

+ + +
+

+casi +(n.) +‘± snake venom’ (?)
+auśiye casi (499b2). +‣The possible meaning is inferred from casi's collocation with auśiye which probably is an adjective derived from auk, q.v., and from the word's position in a medical formula. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+cāk +(n.) +‘hundred quarts [dry measure]’
+[cāk, -, -//cakanma, -, -] +wasa kantine yikṣye cāk wi tom ‘he gave for bread, [one] cāk and two tau’ (433a11), yap wāltsa wi cakanma wi tau ‘he ground barley, two cāks and two tau’ (459a5). +∎A borrowing from Chinese, cf. Old Chinese *d‘iak ‘stone; hard; barren; measure of weight; measure of capacity (= 10 dõu)’ or its Middle Chinese descendant dz̨i̯ak (contemporary Chinese shi; Naert, 1965). Compare the borrowings for similar words denoting measurements, tau (= one-tenth cāk) and ṣank (= one-tenth tau). While the Chinese antecedent for Tocharian cāk may be used of either weight or capacity, the antecedents of tau and ṣank are exclusively measures of capacity. Since the three Tocharian words are used only to measure liquids or grain, it is almost certain that all three words were measures of capacity rather than weight. However, the possibility certainly remains that cāk was also a measure of weight for Tocharian speakers as was its antecedent in Chinese. +

+ + +
+

+cākkär +(n.) +‘wheel; cakra, wheel as mystical symbol’
+[cākkär, cakkarntse, -/-, -, cakkarwi/] +sportoträ läklentaṣṣe cākkär ‘the wheel of sufferings turns’ (11a7), [pe]laikneṣṣe cākkär se walke stamoy ‘may this wheel of righteousness long endure!’ (313b5=S-5b3). + -- cākkär-lakṣāṃ ‘sign of the cakra’ (109a7); +
+cākkär-ṣotri ‘id.’ (365b4); +
+cakkartse* ‘possessing a cakra’ (267b3). +∎From BHS cakra-. +

+ + +
+

+cāne* +(n.) +a unit of money
+[-, -, cāne//cāni, -, cāneṃ] + pañikte pakenta kalwa wi 2 ṣkäsār plänkāre cāneṃntsa śak-wi 12 ‘Buddha obtained two [2] parts, each by sixths were sold for 12 cānes’ (KLOST.38,3 [Couvreur, 1954c:90]), tarya t_umane wiltse [sic] piś känte pśāka-wi wässanmaś cāñi ‘32,552 cānes for the clothes’ (Otani-3, 1/2 [Thomas, 1954:762]). +‣The relationship of this word with kuśāne, another monetary unit, is unknown. +∎A borrowing from Chinese, cf. Archaic Chinese *dz‘ian ‘copper coin’ [= Modern Chinese qián] (Naert, 1965). +

+ + +
+

+cāro +only attested in the compound: cāro-korśo* ‘turban’ (?)
+//ṣṣe wantau āṣtsa cāro-korśai ‘having wound a turban over the head’ (212a1). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+cāl* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+[-, -, cāl//] +śanm[eṃ w[ä]ntr[e]n[e] ot cai aiśaly[i] śaulaṣṣe ce_u cālne wrocc[e] [k]_us[e] /// (AMB-b1). +

+ + +
+

+cāvvi +(n.) +‘Piper chaba Hunter’ (a medical ingredient)
+[cāvvi, -, -//] +(497b6, P-3b5). +∎From BHS cavi-. +

+ + +
+

+cänk- +(vt.) +‘please’
+Ps. II /cänk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, cañcäṃ//] +entsesa attsaik eśne wawālaṣ mā cäñcan-me āyor aitsi ‘through greed [their] eyes [are] covered; it does not please them to give a gift’ (K-6a2). +∎TchB cänk- reflects PIE *teng- ‘think, feel’ [: Latin tongeō ‘nōsse, scīre,’ Gothic þagkjan ‘think, reflect on,’ Old Norse þekkja ‘perceive, recognize, know; make agreeable,’ OHG denchen ‘think,’ Old English þencan ‘id.’ (< *tongeye/o- as in Latin tongeō), Gothic þugkjan ‘seem, appear,’ OHG dunchen ‘id.,’ Old English þyncan ‘id.’ (< *tṇgye/o-), OHG dank (m.) ‘thanks, thought,’ Old English þanc (m.) ‘thought, sentiment, purpose,’ Albanian tëngë (f.) ‘resentment, grudge, ill-feeling’ (P:1088; MA:575)] (Pedersen, 1941:244-5, VW:250). It should be noted that the Tocharian present is (as if) from a simple PIE thematic *tenge/o- which is not matched in Latin or Germanic. +See cäñcare (~ ciñcare) and tankw. +

+ + +
+

+cäñcare (~ ciñcare) +(adj.) +‘lovely, agreeable, charming, delightful’
+[m: cäñcare, -, -//] [f: cäñcarya, -, -//-, -, cäñcrona] +ciñcareṃ eñcareṃ mā eñcareṃ sparśmeṃ tetemu [] ciñcareṃ ... [ciñcareṃ = BHS iṣṭo] (197b2), mäntrākka alokälymi cäñcare [täñ] = BHS evam ekāntakāntaṃn te (251a1), wñā-neś cäñcareṃ brahmasvarsa weksa ‘he spoke to him with [his] beautiful brahmasvara voice’ (384b3), cäñca[r]e = BHS priyam (U-8a4). + -- cäñcarñe ‘pleasure’: pyapyaints ācc[e] cäñcarñesa ṣeṣṣirkoṣ ‘surpassed by the thick pleasure of flowers’ (237a1). +∎Like its TchA equivalent cäñcär, an adjectival derivative based on the present stem of cänk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+cämp- +(vi.) +‘be able to’ [always followed by an infinitive]
+Ps. I/II (= Ko.) /cämp(^'ä/_e)-/ [A campau, -, campäṃ// -, campcer, campäṃ; AImpf. -, -, campi//; Ger. cämpalle]; Ko. I/II [= Ps.] [A -, campät, -// -, -, campeṃ; AOpt. cämpim, -, campi// -, -, cämp(i)yeṃ]; Pt. Ia /cämpyā-/ [A cämpyāwa, cämpyāsta, campya// -, cämpyās, cämpyāre] +mā cämpau ci klautkästsi wrocce r[ṣā]k[eṃ] ‘I cannot make thee a great seer’ (127b2), sū cämpan-m[e] laklene waste nestsi ‘he can be a refuge in suffering’ (77a2), kā ye[s ri]ntsi mā campcer pel=ostaṣṣe totkā-yärm ‘why can you not renounce the prison of the house [even] a little?’ (5a1), ṣñār ekñentasa soytsi lāñco mā campeṃ ‘by their own possessions can kings not be sated’ (22a3), mantanta ksa ṣp nāge campi pältak swese swāsästsi ‘never could any nāga make a drop of rain to fall’ (350a3), mā wes cämpalyi erkattäṃñe kaltsi ‘we [are] not capable of bearing ill-treatment’ (79a3); mā tw=ot [ca]mpät toṃ laṃsūna lāṃṣtsi pelaikneṣṣana ‘Wilt thou then not be able to prepare the works?’ (15b5=17b7), aiśämñesā späntai wentsi cämpim-cä ‘out of wisdom may I be able to speak to thee trustfully!’ (248b2); [i]nt iṣṣe samuddär mā soyässi cämyāwa [sic] ‘I couldn't satisfy the ocean of the senses’ (TEB-63-01), ma nta ksa campya srūkalñe taṅt[s]i ‘never could anything stop death’ (46b3). +∎AB cämp- reflect PTch cämp- from PIE *temp- ‘± stretch, exert an effort on’ [: Lithuanian tempiù ‘pull in length, stretch, extend,’ tìmpa ‘sinew,’ TchA tampe ‘force, ability,’ Icelandic þambr ‘swollen, thick’ (< *‘stretched’), and possibly such other words as Latin tempus ‘time’ (< *‘stretch of time’) collected at P:1064-1065; MA:187)] (VW, 1939:127, Pedersen, 1941:162, nt. 1, VW, 1976:249-250, though details of the extra-Tocharian cognates differ). +See also cämpamo. +

+ + +
+

+cämpamo +(adj.) +‘capable, able’
+[m: cämpamo, -, -//cämpamoñ, -, -] +po-cmelaṣṣi pacera mā cämpmoñ ‘parents in all lives [are] not able’ (A-1a2). + -- cämpamñe ‘ability’: kos ñi cämpämñe tot weñe_u ‘as much as [is] my ability, so much will I speak’ (248a2), orotse cpī mäsketrä cämpamñe ‘great is his ability’ (K-9a3); +
+cämpamñetstse* ‘having ability, able’: cai yakṣī orotstse-cimpamñecci ‘the yakṣas of great ability’ (506a3). +∎An adjectival derivative of cämp-. +

+ + +
+

+ci +See tuwe. +

+ + +
+

+ciñcare +See cäñcare. +

+ + +
+

+citt* +(n.) +‘thought, spirit’
+[-, -, citt//] +sälpiñ cittsa wolokmar ‘I dwell with a burning spirit’ (TEB-64-05). +∎From BHS citta-. +

+ + +
+

+cittakālyät* +(n.) +‘± thing anticipated’ (?)
+[-, -, cittakālyät//] +(405a8). +∎From BHS cittakalita-? +

+ + +
+

+Cittarakṣite +(n.) +‘Cittarakṣita’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Cittarakṣite, -, -//] +(434a4). +

+ + +
+

+Cittavārg +(n.) +‘Cittavarga’ (a portion of the Udānalankara)
+[Cittavārg, -, -//] +(A-3a3). +

+ + +
+

+cittābhisaṃskār +(n.) +± ‘conception of thought’ (?)
+[cittābhisaṃskār, -, -//] +(200b1). +∎If from BHS *cittābhisaṃskāra- (compound not in Monier-Williams or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+citrāk +(n.) +‘Plumbago zeylanica Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[citrāk, -, -//] +(497b7, W-17a5). +∎From BHS citraka-. +

+ + +
+

+Citre +(n.) +‘Citra’ (PN of householder)
+[Citre, Citrentse, -//] +(40a3). +

+ + +
+

+Cina +(n.) +‘Cina’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Cina, -, -//] +(459a4). +‣A short form of Cinatyuti? +

+ + +
+

+Cinatyuti +(n.) +‘Cinatyuti’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Cinatyuti, Cinatyutintse, -//] +(459a5). +See Cina. +

+ + +
+

+cintāmaṇi +(n.) +‘fabulous jewel yielding its possessor all desires’
+[cintāmaṇi, -, -//cintāmaṇinta, -, -] +kārūnäṣṣe cintāmaṇi ‘the jewel of compassion’ (73b5), [in Manichean script] čynt’m’nyy (Winter/Gabain:11). +∎From BHS cintāmaṇi-. +

+ + +
+

+cipak +(n.) +‘Pentaptera tomentosa’ (a medical ingredient)
+[cipak, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS jīvaka-. +

+ + +
+

+ciṣṣe +(adj.) +‘thy, pertaining to thee’
+[m: ciṣṣe, -, ciṣṣe//] +ciṣṣe saimäś kloyomar ‘I fall toward the refuge that thou providest’ (TEB-64-11), cine yāmu śrigupti yolo yāmor nauntā-ne ciṣṣek saimtsa (TEB-64-12). +∎An adjectival derivative of ci ‘thee’ (the accusative of tuwe, q.v.). +See also taññe. +

+ + +
+

+cukkrikäṣṣu* +(n.) +‘distilled vineger’
+[cukkrikäṣṣu, -, -//] +(Y-2b1 [= BHS cukra-]). +∎A compound of cukra- + TchB kaṣṣu? +

+ + +
+

+cūrṇ ~ cūrm +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(medicinal) powder’
+[cūrṇ -, cūrṇ//-, -, curṇanma] +apsāltsa yāmu pīle kektseṃne curṇanmasa ṣälypentasa nano mīsa rättankeṃ ‘[if] a wound [is] made by a sword in the body, with powders and salves the flesh will heal again’ (15b1/2=17b3), se cūrṇä kewiye wentsa kante ṣpärkaṣṣälle ‘this powder with cow urine [is] to be dissolved [at a ratio of] 100 [to one]’ (W-2a5). +∎From BHS cūrṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+ce(k) +See se. +

+ + +
+

+cenk- +See tänk-. +

+ + +
+

+ceccalor +See täl-. +

+ + +
+

+cetaṃ +(n.) +‘soul, mind’
+[cetaṃ, ceta[nä]ntse, -//] +(200a5). +∎From BHS cetana. +

+ + +
+

+cetiṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a shrine’ (?)
+///ñe ñemtsa ṣpä ̇ cetiṣṣ ̇ tane ̇ /// (507b1). +∎In form an adjectival derivative from an unattested *ceti which is presumably BHS ceti ‘object of veneration, shrine.’ +

+ + +
+

+cepy- +(vi.) +‘± tread’ (?)
+Ps. II /cepy^'ä/_e-/ [MPPart. cepyemane; Ger. ceppille] +/// cepyemane [] cakkartsane painesa lalaṃṣkane (386a5), sankik raktisa ṣam[ā]nentse ~ eñatketse m[ā] cepi[l]l[e] mā wsaṣṣälle ‘on the community's mat the monk is not to tread unurged or to lie [on it]’ (TEB-65-17= H-149.X.4a1/2 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (251) suggests a connection with Greek déphō ‘soften (by working with the hand)’ but the meaning is distant. +

+ + +
+

+ceyak +See se. +

+ + +
+

+celāmäññe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: //-, -, celāmäññana] +pañcwarṣikänta kakonta wrocceṃ stamäṣṣäṃ celāmäññana ain wat=āyornt=asta yettse (290a1). +∎A derivative surely of celeññ- but its exact meaning and the exact method of derivation are unknown. +

+ + +
+

+celeññ- +(vi.) +‘appear’
+Ps. XII /celeññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP // -, -, celentär; MPImpf. // -, -, celeññiyentär] +māka täṅwañe lkātsi celenträ ‘many appear to look at love’ [?] (74a3), cākkär svastik nandikāwart ṣotruna enenka celeñiyentär ‘the cakra, swastika and nandikavarta signs appeared within’ (107a1). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (251) suggests a connection with the family of PIE *telh_a- ‘lift, raise.’ Such a connection is possible but the meaning is rather distant and the exact morphology of the form of celeññ- is not matched by anything among the certain descendants of *telh_a-. +See also celāmäññe and possibly täl-. +

+ + +
+

+ceśalle +See täk-. +

+ + +
+

+cew +See su. +

+ + +
+

+caitasike +(adj.) +‘prtng to the mind’
+[m: caitasike, -, -//] +(172a2). +∎From BHS caitasika-. +

+ + +
+

+Caitike +(n.) +‘Caitike’ (PN in carvan passes and graffito)
+[Caitike, -, -//] +(LP-14a2, G-Qa-1.2). +See Caiytiśka. +

+ + +
+

+Caiytiśka +(n.) +‘Caiytiśka’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Caiytiśka, Caiytiśkantse, -//] +(461a1). +‣A diminutive of Caitike. +

+ + +
+

+cok +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘lamp’
+[cok, -, cok//-, -, cokanma] +cok ñiś twāsäṣṣim ‘may I light the lamp!’ (364a4), yṣiñe cokiś ṣalywe ‘oil for the night lamp’ (451a2), cok kekesorne ‘in the extinguishing of the lamp’ (588b8). +∎AB cok reflect PTch *cok but extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. It may be that we have a virtual PIE *dhēg^whu-, a derivative of *dheg^wh- ‘burn’ (so Krause, 1943:32, and Pedersen, 1944:23). Against such a derivation, otherwise attractive, is that fact that Tocharian from a very early date seems to have generalized word initial ts- in this root, giving no basis for the initial c- of cok (c is the productive palatalization of Tocharian t). VW (252) reconstructs *tēgu- and connects this word with Old English þeccan ‘burn,’ fäcele ‘torch, lamp,’ OHG dahhazzen ‘flare up’ (P:1057). However Old English þeccan ‘burn’ appears not to exist (see the discussion in Bosworth and Toller) and þäcele may be merely a variant of fäcele ‘id.’ from Latin facula, all of which leaves Tocharian cok and OHG dahhazzen isolated. +

+ + +
+

+codake +(n.) +‘objector (in disputations), adversary’
+[codake, -, -//] +t_usā mā wesk[e]m codake weṣṣäṃ ‘thus we do not speak, [rather] the adversary speaks’ (197a2). +∎From BHS codaka-. +See also cotit. +

+ + +
+

+cotit +only attested as a part of a phrasal verb: cotit yām- ‘accuse’
+cotit yamaṣṣa-me toy aśiyana po lalāṃṣuwa stare ‘he accused them [thus]: these nuns have finished everything’ (PK-AS-18B-a2 [Pinault, 1984b:376]). +∎From BHS codita-, past participle of cud-. +See also codake. +

+ + +
+

+comp +See samp. +

+ + +
+

+corak +(n.) +‘Trigonella corniculata Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[corak, -, -//] +(FS-a4). +∎From BHS coraka-. +

+ + +
+

+col* +(adj.) +‘wild’
+[m: //-, -, coläṃ] +ṣkäss yälloṃṣṣeṃ coläṃ yakweṃ yātäṣṣatai ‘thou didst tame the six wild horses of the senses’ (213a1). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (252-253) suggests we have here a virtual PIE *tēlu-, a derivative of *tel- ‘± flat surface’ [: Sanskrit tala- (nt.) ‘surface,’ tālu- (nt.) (< *tolu-) ‘gums,’ Armenian t`aɫ ‘district, region,’ Greek tēlía ‘board or table with raised rim,’ Latin tellūs ‘earth’ (< *telnos rebuilt morphologically after rūs), Old Irish talam (gen. talman) ‘earth,’ Old Norse þel (nt.) ‘ground,’ Old Prussian talus ‘floor of a room,’ Lithuanian pãtalas ‘bed,’ Old Russian tъlo ‘ground,’ etc. (P:1061; MA:247)]. VW assumes a semantic development similar to that seen in Greek ágrios ‘wild,’ an adjectival derivative of ágros ‘field.’ However, it should be noted that none of the known derivatives of *tel- mean ‘field’ or the like, rather ‘earth,’ and ‘earthly’ would not seem to be nearly so good a starting point for ‘wild’ as ‘pertaining to the field’ would (so also Hamp, p.c.). Perhaps it is possible to see in col a PIE *d^hwēs-lu-, a cognate of Latin bēlua ~ bellua ‘beast, large animal’ < *d^hwēs-lu-ā- (cf. bēstia) from the widespread *d^heus- ~ d^hwes- ‘breathe, be full of (wild) spirits’ (P:268-267; MA:82). Perhaps Latin b- is regular for PIE *d^hw- when the *-w- has not otherwise been absorbed (cf. forēs ‘doors’). +

+ + +
+

+colorme* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, colormeṃ] +/// [tärkarwa]tstse i[pre]r ramt colormeṃtsa mant /// (355b2). +

+ + +
+

+Cowaśke +(n.) +‘Cowaśke’ (PN in graffito)
+[Cowaśke, -, -//] +(G-Su7). +

+ + +
+

+cowai +(particle) +only in the compound or phrasal verb: cowai tärk- ‘rob’
+c[owai tär]k[a]n[aṃ] ś[aumo] kos [c]wi [ritteträ] ‘a man robs as much as he can gather to himself’ [cowai tärkanaṃ = BHS vilumpati] (22a2/3), [tumeṃ no a]lyai[k c]owai tärknaṃ [= BHS vilumpanti] cowaicce cowai tärkauca [= BHS viloptā] cowai tärkau mäske[tär] [ = BHS vilupyate] ‘for, however, others rob the robber, the robber becomes the robbed’ = BHS tato nye vilumpanti sa viloptā vilupyate (22a3), ñakta Puttisene ce [= k_uce] sankrām lkāṣi taiseṃ terisa [c]owai carka ‘O lord, whatever monastery P. has visited, he has robbed in that same fashion’ (DAM-507-a7/8 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). + -- cowaitstse* ‘± robber’ (see above). +∎Etymology uncertain. Since cowai occur only in this compound its exact meaning cannot be tested from other contexts. Penney (1989:66) plausibly suggests that cowai is not at heart an adverb but rather the accusative singular of an otherwise unattested noun meaning ‘theft, robbery’ and that cowai tärk- is etymologically something on the order of ‘commit a robbery.’ Hilmarsson (p.c.) then plausibly connects this word with Gothic þiufs ‘thief,’ Old Norse þjófr ‘id.,’ Old English þēof ‘id.,’ OHG thiob ‘id.,’ and Old Norse þȳfi ‘theft,’ Old English þīefe ‘id.,’ OHG thiuba ‘id.’ (MA:543). The Tocharian word might represent *teup-eh_a-h₁en-. The Germanic-Tocharian correspondence would be remarkable. Less plausibly, VW (253), assuming the meaning to be ‘away,’ takes it to be a frozen accusative singular of a noun whose nominative singular would have been *cowo, a borrowing from an unattested TchA source, itself descended from a PIE *dēw-u- and related to Sanskrit dūrá ‘far off,’ Hittite tūwa (< endingless locative *duweh_a) ‘far, in(to) the distance,’ tūwats ‘from afar,’ tuwān ... tuwān (< *dweh_am) ‘here ... there,’ Greek dēn (< *dweh_am) ‘(for) a long time,’ all derivatives of a PIE noun *dweh_a- ‘distance (in either time or space)’ for which one should see Melchert, 1984:30. (Cf. also Eichner, 1978:160, fn. 69.) +

+ + +
+

+cau +See su. +

+ + +
+

+cautāṃ +(n.) +‘honey’
+[cautāṃ -, -//] +cautāṃ = BHS kṣaudra- (Y-2b5). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also mit. +

+ + +
+

+ckācko* +(n.) +‘leg, (particularly) shin, calf’
+[-, -, ckāckai/-, -, ckāckane/] +onkolma tañ lkātär saiwai ckāckaine ‘a she- elephant is seen on thy left calf’ [in a top to bottom description after a mention of the thighs] (74b6), ///ne caṇḍāli waikiññeṃ penkeṃpa tasemane mcuṣkantaṃts ckāckane ersank śa/// ‘... comparing the legs of the princes with the penke of the untouchable ...’ (589b5). + -- ckāckaṣṣe ‘prtng to the leg or shin’: ckāckaṣṣe mrestīwe warsa päkṣalle ‘shinbone marrow with water [is] to be cooked’ (W-5a5). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (252) suggests a reduplicated formation, like that seen in pyāpyo ‘flower.’ He takes it to be (as if) from a PIE *teukeh_a-teukeh_a- and compares *teukeh_a- to OHG dioh, Old Norse þjó, Old English þēoh (nt.) ‘thigh.’ The semantic side of the equation is of course excellent but the phonological side less so. The loss of PIE *-äu- in both its occurrences in a putative *cäukā-cäukā- is both surprising and ad hoc. Phonologically easier is Anreiter's assumption (1984:64ff, with differing details) of a reduplicated derivative of *tek- ‘run,’ namely *tekeh_a-tekeh_a-. Very difficult is K. T. Schmidt's suggestion (1980:40) of a relationship with Sanskrit sakthi, Avestan haxti- ‘thigh.’ Under this hypothesis, the Tocharian and Indo-Iranian words would be from a PIE *skakt- with different metathesis and dissmilatory loss. +

+ + +
+

+cke +See cake. +

+ + +
+

+cpi +See su. +

+ + +
+

+cmimra +‘?’
+/// yśamna cmimra mlake/// (584b6). +‣Perhaps with Krause (1952:247) a misspelling for cmimar ‘may I be born.’ +

+ + +
+

+cmel, cmeltse, cmelṣe, and cmelaṣṣe +See camel. +

+ + +
+

+cmelñe +See täm-. +

+ + +
+

+cro(-) +‘?’
+///ṣleṃts tsänkarwane cro/// (518a6). +

+ + +
+

+cwi +See su. +

+ + +
+

+cwiññe +(adj.) +‘belonging to him, his’
+[m: cwiññe, -, -//] [f: //-, -, cwiññana] +kre[ntau]n[a]ne cwiññana ‘in his virtues’ (15b2/3). +∎A derivative of the masculine genitive singular cwi ‘his.’ +See further s.v. se. +

+ + +
+

+cwimp +See samp. +

+ + +
+

+chandakanivartaṃ* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 12 syllables (rhythm: 5/7, or 7/5).
+[-, -, chandakanivartaṃ//] +(86b4). +

+ + +
+

+jaṭ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘braid’
+[jaṭ -, -//] +(TEB-59-27). +∎From BHS jaṭā-. +See also jaṭiläññe*, jaṭilapūrvake*. +

+ + +
+

+jaṭiläññe* +(adj.) +‘provided with a braid’
+[m: -, -, jaṭiläññe//jaṭiläññi, jaṭiläññeṃts, -] +poyśi saswe jaṭilñe sānk päs wāya ‘the lord Buddha led the braided one away [to] the community’ (108b2). +∎A Tocharian derivative in -ññe from BHS jaṭila-. See jaṭ. +

+ + +
+

+jaṭilapūrvake* +(adj.) +‘formerly having a braid’
+[m: //-, -, jaṭilapūrvakaṃ] +(108b3). +∎From BHS jaṭilapūrvaka-. +

+ + +
+

+Jambudvīp +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Jambudvīpa (India)’
+[Jambudvip, -, Jambudvip//] +(3a2): + -- jambudvipṣṣe* ‘prtng to Jambudvīpa’ (217a4). +∎From BHS Jambidvīpa-. +

+ + +
+

+jar +(n.) +‘old-age’
+[jar, -, -//] +(180a3). +∎From BHS jarā-. +

+ + +
+

+jarāmaraṃ +(n.) +‘old-age and death’
+[jarāmaraṃ -, -//] +(149b5). +∎From BHS *jarāmaraṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+jātak* +(n.) +‘story of a buddha's previous incarnation’
+[//jātakänta, -, -] +(104b6). + -- jātakäṣṣe ‘prtng to a jātaka’ (77a5). +∎From BHS jātaka-. +

+ + +
+

+jāti +(n.) + ‘birth’
+[jāti, -, jāti//] +(149b5). +∎From BHS jāti-. +

+ + +
+

+Jātiśroṇe +(n.) +‘Jātiśroṇa’ (PN of a brahman)
+[Jātiśroṇe, Jātiśroṇi, -//] +(2b4). +

+ + +
+

+jāmadigniñe +(adj.) +‘prtng to Jamadagni’
+[m: jāmadigniñe, -, -//] +(K-12a5). +

+ + +
+

+jīvak +See cipak. +

+ + +
+

+jīvake +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘living being’
+(373.b). +∎From BHS jīvaka-. +

+ + +
+

+jīvanti +(n.) +‘cocculus cordifolia’ (a medical ingredient)
+[jīvanti, -, -//] +(497a1). +∎From BHS jīvantī-. +

+ + +
+

+Jetavaṃ* +(n.) +‘Jetavana’ (PN of a grove near Śrāvastī)
+[-, -, Jetavaṃ//] +(A-4a4). +

+ + +
+

+jojjä +‘?’
+kausa jojjä y ̇/// (424a1). +

+ + +
+

+Jñāti +(n.) +‘Jñāti’ (PN of a woman)
+[Jñāti, -, -//] +Jñāti-seyi = BHS Jñātiputrasya (28b5). +

+ + +
+

+jñātike* +(n.) +‘relative, kinsman’
+[-, -, jñātikeṃ//] +jñātikeṃ wāpatsi watkaṣäṃ mā tränko ‘[if] he orders a relative to weave [it], [it is] not a sin’ (H-149.37b5 [Thomas, 1954:727]). +∎From BHS jñātika-. +

+ + +
+

+Jñānakāme* +(n.) +‘Jñānakāma’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Jñānakāmi, -//] +(477a2). +

+ + +
+

+Jñānakupte +(n.) +‘Jñānagupta’ (PN in graffito)
+[Jñānakupte, -, -//] +(G-Su12). +

+ + +
+

+Jñānaghoṣe +(n.) +‘Jñānaghoṣa’ (PN in graffito)
+[Jñānaghoṣe, -, -//] +(G-Su33). +

+ + +
+

+Jñānacaṃndre +(n.) +‘Jñānacandra’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Jñācandre, -, -//] +(G-Su34.1.2). +

+ + +
+

+Jñānamokṣe +(n.) +‘Jñānamokṣa’ (PN in graffito)
+[Jñānamokṣe, -, -//] +(G-Su25.b). +

+ + +
+

+Jñānawirye +(n.) +‘Jñānavīrya’ (PN in graffito)
+[Jñānawiryem -, -//] +(G-Qa4.b.1). +See also Ñānawirye. +

+ + +
+

+jñānasaṃbhār +(n.) +‘a great amount of knowledge’
+[jñānasaṃbhār, -, -//] +(591b3). +∎From BHS jñānasaṃbhāra-. +

+ + +
+

+Jñānasene +(n.) +‘Jñānasena’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Jñānasene, -, Jñānaseneṃ//] +(DAM-507-a3 [Pinault, 1984b:24]). +See also Ñānasene. +

+ + +
+

+Jñānasome +(n.) +‘Jñānasoma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Jñānasome, Jñānasomentse, -//] +(G-Qm6). +See also Ñānasome. +

+ + +
+

+Jñānasthite +(n.) +‘Jñānasthita’ (PN of a Tuṣita-god)
+[Jñānasthite, -, -//] +(77a2). +

+ + +
+

+jñāpake* +(n.) +‘rule, law’
+[-, -, jñāpake//] +(197a2). +∎From BHS jñāpaka-. +

+ + +
+

+jyotiraso +(n.) +a kind of jewel
+(242b2) +∎From BHS jyotīrasa-. +

+ + +
+

+jyotiṣpati +(n.) +‘Cardiospermum halicacabum Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[jyotiṣpati, -, -//] +(W-2b3). +∎From BHS jyotiṣmatī-. +

+ + +
+

+ñ¹ +enclitic pronoun of the first person singular. +See ñäś. +

+ + +
+

+ñ² +the ending of the causal +∎Possibly we have here an archaic instrumental of an n-stem, namely -niT seen in (Vedic) Sanskrit dakṣiṇít ‘with the right hand,’ or, outside of n-stems, in cikitvít ‘with attention, care,’ or in the Hittite instrumental ending -it (for the Sanskrit and Hittite, cf. Melchert, 1984:98). One should note with Melchert that the -it occurs with both thematic and athematic nouns. +

+ + +
+

+ñake +(adv.) +‘now’
+śaul attsaik totka śāmnaṃts ñke wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä atyaṃts a[k]entasa ‘the life of men [is] now [as] little [as] the droplet of water on the tips of grass’ (3b3/4), nauṣsu plyāwa alyenkäṃ ceṃ ñake ce_u wes pälwāmo ‘earlier he lamented others, now we lament him’ (46b2), k_use no su Uttare mñcuṣke ṣai se ña[k]e Rāhule st[e] ‘whoever prince Uttara was, he is now Rāhula’ (95a2), pinkte meñe āra ñake ṣuktañce ṣkas meñantse-meṃ motte [lege: mante] ñwe mape śātre śwātär ‘the fifth month has ended; now from the seventh [day] of the sixth month on is newly ripened grain to be eaten’ (461a4/5), larauñe śaul kekts[e]nn[e] ... ñke ra cämpim mussi [ñke ra = BHS adyāpi] ‘may I be able to put aside love of life and body even right now!’ (S-3a1/2). +‣Form, function, and position in its clause are discussed by Thomas, 1979. +∎Presumably with VW (323) (as if) from PIE *ne-g^ho where the *ne is the same as that seen in Sanskrit ná ‘likewise,’ Old Latin ne ‘as,’ Lithuanian nè ‘as,’ Latin ego-ne, tū-ne, etc. or Greek (Thessalonian) hó-ne, tó-ne, etc. (P:320). This *-ne would be related in some fashion to the pronominal *h₁(e)no-. The *g^ho is a particle of reinforcement often occuring after pronouns, e.g. Sanskrit sá gha, OCS -go, etc. (P:417). The entire *ne-g^ho may be matched by Serbo-Croatian nego ‘as’ (in comparatives). +See also ṅke. +

+ + +
+

+ñakte +(nm.) +‘god’ [voc. ñakta often used as respectful address to a king] [ñakteṃts ñakte is an epithet of the Buddha or of a maitreya]
+[ñakte, ñaktentse, ñakte (voc. ñakta)/ñaktene, -, -/ñakti, ñakteṃts, ñakteṃ] +ñäkteṃts ñakte pūdñäkte lac lename[ṃ tso]nkaiko ‘the god of gods, the Buddha, went out of [his] cell at dawn’ (5b3), ñakteṃ śāmnane ‘among gods and men’ (30b4), te weweñ[o]rmeṃ ltaiś ñaktene ‘having said this the two gods left’ (88b5), ñäktetsä = BHS -devānām (251b1), wärttoṣṣi ñakti ‘the forest gods’ (364b7), ñakt[e]ntse = BHS buddha- (U-11b1). + -- ñäktetstse* ‘having gods’ (PK-NS306/305a3 [Couvreur, 1977:177]); +
+ñäkteññe ‘divine’ (H-149-Add.122a4). +∎TchA ñkät and B ñakte reflect PTch *ñäk(ä)te but extra-Tocharian connections are not altogether clear. VW (326-327) suggests a derivation from PIE *h₁neḱ- ‘obtain, take’ [: Sanskrit aśnóti ‘attains,’ náśati ‘id.,’ Lith. nešù ‘carry,’ TchB enk- ‘take, seize,’ etc. (P:316-318; MA:35)], i.e. *h₁neḱto- ‘he who brings, he who obtains.’ He notes the semantic similarity (which stops well short of a semantic identity) with Sanskrit bhága- ‘master,’ Avestan baɣa- ‘master, god,’ derivatives of a verb seen in Skt, bhájati ‘shares.’ Alternatively Watkins (1974:102) takes ‘god’ to be ‘the libated one’ (from PIE *ǵ^heu- ‘pour’ [P:447-448; MA:448]) with reference to Sanskrit āhuta- ‘begossen’ as an epithet of Agni. Normier (1980:267ff.), however, is probably right in taking PTch *ñäk(ä)te to reflect a virtual PIE *ní-ǵ^huh_x-to- ‘± the one called down’ (more particularly *ní-ǵ^huh_x-to- with the retracted accent characteristic of nouns derived from adjectives). The vowel of the root syllable has been shortened to *-u- (or the laryngeal was lost) in pre-Tocharian but after that the development is phonologically regular. Normier suggests that the laryngeal is lost as a result of the word's being a compound and comparing such formations as Sanskrit suṣuti- ‘easy birth’ from sū-. The existence of such "compositional loss" of laryngeals, at least when not before a vowel, is, however, controversial (Mayrhofer, 1986:149-150). In any case, such an explanation for the Tocharian short vowel will not account for the short vowel in what by this hypothesis is the closest extra-Tocharian cognate, namely Germanic *guδa- (nt.) ‘god’ (< *ǵ^hutóm) (cf. P:413; MA:231). For this Germanic word and for related words with a short vowel in Celtic (cf. Old Irish guth (m.) ‘voice’ < *ǵ^hutus) and Gallic gutuater, the designation of a class of priests, which may be *ǵ^hutu-pḥ_ater- ‘father (= master) of the invocation [of the gods]’), Normier adduces a general rule, "Dybo's Law," of pretonic shortening of *-ū- and *-ī (usually from *-uh_x- and *-ih_x-) in Germanic, Celtic and Latin (e.g. Proto-Germanic *sunu- compared to Sanskrit sūnú- or Proto-Germanic *wira-, Latin viro-, Old Irish fer ‘man’ but Sanskrit vīrá- ‘id.’). However, Dybo's Law is not without its problems and the more general question of aniṭ and seṭ roots awaits a unified solution. +See also ñäkciye, ñäkteñña, yñakteṃ, kauṃñäkte, pudñäkte, pañäkte, bramñäkte, ylaiñäkte, śrīñäkte, and, more distantly perhaps kwā-. +

+ + +
+

+ñakre* +(n.) +‘± darkness’ (?)
+[-, -, ñakre//] +/// epastyu śaiṣṣe lyuśsi ñakremeṃ ‘skilled one, to illuminate the world from darkness’ (244b3). +∎If the meaning is correct, then this word is the exact equivalent of the otherwise isolated Latin niger ‘black, dark,’ both being from a PIE *niGro- where the *-G- may be either aspirated or not, palatal or velar (Isebaert, 1977[79]:382). +

+ + +
+

+ñatke +(adv.) +‘± urgently, quickly’ (?)
+/// wektse w[e]k tärkänaṃ ñätke kārāś yaṃ ‘he utters a loud voice and quickly goes toward the forest’ (118b1), (283a1). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, a derivative of nätk- and the formation underlying eñatketstse? +

+ + +
+

+Ñatte* +(n.) +‘Ñatte’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Ñatti, -//] +(463a5). +

+ + +
+

+ñare +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘thread; (both sg. and pl.) fringe’
+[ñare, -, ñare//-, ñreṃts, -] +mäkte ña[re] tne pännowo kos sarkimpa w[ā]p[ā]trä ‘as here the stretched thread, as often as it is woven with the warp’ (3b5), watkaṣṣi pi pañäkte niṣīdaṃ ñremeṃ kälymi raso tsamtsi ‘may the Buddha order the sitting-mat to increase a span [in] the direction from the fringe’ (H-149.X.4a6 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (1941:77, 1976:324) takes ñare to reflect a PIE *nero- and related to the otherwise isolated Baltic group represented by Lithuanian neriù ‘thread a needle’ or narýs ‘joint, articulation’ (P:257-956; MA:573). It is also possible to see in it a PTch *ñärwe- (cf. ṣmare ‘fat’ < *smerwo-) and thus the equivalent of Latin nervus ‘sinew, tendon, nerve.’ As Meillet and Ernout explain (1967:439), in nervus (< *nerwo-) we have a popular deformation of *neuro- still to be seen in Greek neûron ‘id.’ and related to the widespread PIE *(s)neh₁- ‘weave, spin’ (P:973) and its nominal derivative *(s)neh₁-wṛ ‘sinew, tendon’ from which, by backformation was formed the derived verbal root *(s)neh₁w- (i.e. *(s)neh₁-wṛ is reanalyzed as *(s)neh₁wṛ) A connection with *(s)neh₁- was proposed for ñare by Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:381. In any case, not a derivative of närs- ‘press, urge,’ q.v. (Krause, 1952:254). +See also ṣñor. +

+ + +
+

+ñaś +(pronoun) +‘I, me’ ; plural: wes ‘we, us’
+[ñaś (~ ñäś, ñiś), ñi, ñaś (~ ñäś, ñiś)/wene, -, wene/wes, wesi ~ wesäñ, wes] +∎The formation of the first person singular pronoun in Tocharian is as thorny a thicket of morphology and phonology as one can find there. TchA is practically unique in Indo-European in distinguishing a masculine and feminine first person singular pronoun, as näṣ (m.) and ñuk (f.). Neither matches, in any obvious way, the unisex TchB pronoun ñaś. Starting from the enclitic -ñ, we note that there is general agreement that this must represent a PIE accusative *me/*mé or reduplicated *méme (see the discussion of Cowgill, 1965:170). PIE *méme remains as such only in Indic (Skt. máma). In Balto-Slavic and Iranian we find the dissimilated (Aves an mana) and in Greek and Latin we have derived genitives showing dissimilatory loss (Latin meus and Greek (emós). In Greek the same dissimilation must be seen in the accusative emé. +
+Tocharian too starts from *mene or, perhaps with very early loss of an unstressed vowel, *mne. This *m(e)ne became *m(ä)ñä > *mñä > *ñä, whence the initial ñ- was extended throughout the paradigm (VW:315, with previous literature). The TchB nom./acc. ñaś must be in Indo-European terms memé ge (cf. Greek emé ge and Gothic mik from *me ge); this Tocharian-Greek-Germanic equation goes back to G. Schmidt (1978). The genitive singular must be *ñä + the genitive ending -i (< PIE *-eis). In pre-Tocharian A a nominative *yäku, regularly from *eǵō-h_xom (= Greek egōn and is similar to Sanskrit ahám from *eǵ-h_xom; cf. also the second person sg. *tuwe (B t(u)we and A tu from *tū-h_xom), was conflated with *ñä, originally only accusative, to give *ñäku whence feminine ñuk (P:291, 702; MA:454). Cf. Jasanoff (1989) though details differ. TchA näṣ and nāñi remain opaque to me though Jasanoff has suggestions for them. +
+TchA was and B wes are normally taken to reflect PTch *wes, a conflation of the PIE nominative first person plural stem *wei- and the oblique *nos (generalized to the nominative in Latin nōs and Albanian na < *nos), thus only accidentally looking like the PIE second person plural oblique stem *wos (VW:547, following Petersen, 1935:205, and Pedersen, 1941:133ff.) The PIE word-final *-s is preserved here in a monosyllable (as in ṣkas ‘six’ from *s(w)eḱs). The dual wene is (as if) from PIE *woh₁ (similarly rebuilt from *noh₁) plus the regular dual ending -ne (< *-noh₁) (P:758; MA:454). +See also -¹ñ, ñiññe and ñśaṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+ñasso +(n.) +‘share, portion, inheritance’
+[ñasso, -, -//] +s[e] [lege: k_use] ñasso [ṣäp] cewsa = BHS yoṃśaś cānena [yoṃśaś = yo aṃśaś] (547a2). +∎Perhaps (as if) from PIE *nesweh_a-h₁en- (> *ñäswoyo > *ñäss(o)yo [*-s- is lengthened before an original *-w- as assumed by Jasanoff (p.c.) and the *-w- is lost before a back vowel] > *ñässo by loss of *-y between o's and contraction [Adams, 1988d]). This *nesweh_ah₁en- would be a derivative of *nes- ‘± go back to, seek out a (good) state or place.’ Semantically we would have a change from *‘that which is sought’ to ‘that which is attained.’ +See also ñäsk-. +

+ + +
+

+Ñānattewe +(n.) +‘Jñānadeva’ (PN in graffito)
+[Ñānattewe, -, -//] +(G-Qm7). +

+ + +
+

+Ñānawirye +(n.) +‘Jñānaīrya’ (PN in graffito)
+[Ñānawirye, -, -//] +(G-Qa4.a). +See also Jñānawirye. +

+ + +
+

+Ñānasene +(n.) +‘Jñāsena’ (PN in graffito)
+[Ñānasene, -, -//] +(G-Qm7). +See also Jñānasena. +

+ + +
+

+Ñānasome* +(n.) +‘Jñānasoma’ (PN in graffito)
+[-, Ñānasomi, -//] +(G-Su14). +See also Jñāasome. +

+ + +
+

+ñās +See ñyās. +

+ + +
+

+ñātse +See ñyātse. +

+ + +
+

+ñäkciye +(adj.) +‘divine’
+[m: ñäkciye, -, ñäkciye//ñäkc(iy)i, -, ñäkciyeṃ] [f: ñäkciya, -, ñäkciyai/ ñäkciyane, -, -/ñäkciyana, -, ñäkciyana] +ñäkcye ... śaiṣṣene = BHS svarge (14a6), ñäkcyai = BHS divya (23a3), ñäkcye śaiṣṣeś = BHS devalokam (23a3), tūsa pilko ñäk[c]iye yänm[āṣṣäṃ] ‘thus he achieves divine insight’ (523a6), ñäkcyenne yśelmen[n]e = BHS divyeṣu kāmeṣu (H-149-ADD.105b3 = U-4 [Thomas, 1972a:230, fn. 21]), ñäkciye = BHS devako (U-18b6). +∎An adjectival derivative of ñakte, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ñäkteñña +(n.) +‘goddess’
+[ñäkteñña, -, -//] +ś[a]na ñäkteñña weṣṣäṃ ‘the woman, the goddess, speaks’ (88b3). +∎The feminine of the adjective ñäkteññe ‘divine’ (s.v. ñakte). Cf. also TchA ñäkteññā ‘id.’ +

+ + +
+

+ñäś +See ñaś. +

+ + +
+

+-ñäṣṣe +(adj.) +‘-seeking, exerting (?)’
+[m: -ñäṣṣe, -, -//] [f: //-, ñäṣṣanaṃts, -] +/// nervvaṃ-ñäṣṣe /// ‘nirvana-seeking’ (140b2), /// ñäṣṣanaṃts = BHS ceṣṭānāṃ (H-149.47b5 [Couvreur, 1966:162]). +∎An adjectival derivative of ñäsk-, q.v. For the formation one should compare -paṣṣe from pāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+ñäsk- +(vt.) +Act: ‘demand, require’; Middle: ‘seek’ [akālk ñäsk- ‘cherish a wish’]
+Ps. II /ñäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A ñaskau, -, ñaṣṣäṃ// -, -, ñaskeṃ; AImpf. -, -, ñaṣṣi//; MP -, -, ñaṣtär// -, -, ñäskentär; MPImpf. ñäṣṣimar, ñäṣṣitar, ñäṣṣītär// -, -, ñä(ṣṣi)yentär; APart. ñäṣṣeñca; MPPart. ñäskemane; Ger. ñäṣṣalle]; Ko II (= Ps.) [A ñaskau, -, -//; MP ñäskemar, -, -//]; Pt. /ñäṣṣā/ [A -, -, ñaṣṣa//] +mapi ca[mpät] c[e]_u pito rīntsī k_uce ñiś ñäskau-cmeṃ ‘thou canst not indeed renounce the price that I require from thee’ (100a1), tumeṃ su Upanandeṃnmeṃ kampāl päst ññaṣṣi [sic] ‘then he demanded the cloak back from U.’ (337b1), śrāddhe ṣek ñaṣträ kre[ntäṃ] l[k]ātsi ‘a believer always seeks to see good [ones]’ (23a6/7), ankaiṃ ytārasa [lege: ytārisa] mokṣ cai ñäskentär ‘they sought extinction/deliverance by a false path’ (30a7), ce akālk ṣek ñäṣṣī[tär] ‘he always cherished this wish’ (28b8); paine toṃ ātpi āyor ñäskau-ne ‘I will require both his feet [as] a gift’ (Amb-b2); ñaṣṣa Śreṣṭhakeṃ kakāte-ne akālkäś ‘he required Ś. [to come forward] and invited him to a wish’ (22a5). +∎TchB ñäsk- reflects PTch *ñäsk- (as if) from PIE *nes-sḱe/o-, a derivative of *nes- ‘± move (back) toward or seek out a good state or position’ [: Greek néomai ‘return home,’ Sanskrit násate ‘unite with, approach,’ OE genesen ‘save’ (P:766-767; MA:484)] with the -sḱe/o- extended throughout the paradigm (as also in the case of nāsk- ‘bathe, swim,’ pāsk- ‘guard,’ tresk- ‘chew,’ etc. [one might notice, too, that all these verbs have a full rather than zero-grade of the root]). PIE *nes- is represented by Sanskrit násate ‘approaches, resorts to [a person]; copulates,’ Greek néomai ‘go/come (back) [home],’ Gothic ganisan ‘recover, get well; be saved,’ Sanskrit níṃsate ‘touch closely, kiss; salute,’ Greek nīsomai (somewhat irregularly from *nínsomai) ‘go/come (back).’ This connection, which seems to be routinely accepted from the Germanic side (Feist and Lehmann for Gothic) as well as from the point of view of Indic (Mayrhofer), is doubted, for semantic reasons, by Frisk (1970:305). However, the morphologically exact three-way equation of *nes/o- and the even more probative two-way equation of *ninse/o- would seem to be unassailable. All the attested meanings can be derived from that given above (which differs from that given by Pokorny [766] ‘sich vereinigen, geborgen sein’) by relatively straightforward processes of semantic change. In Germanic it has narrowed to ‘go back to a good state’ while in Greek it has narrowed to ‘go back to a good place.’ In Indic we have broadening from ‘go/come toward a good state/place’ to ‘go toward, approach, resort to’ and in Tocharian to ‘seek (out).’ Not (with VW:324) from a PIE *mnesḱe/o- from *men- ‘think’ for both semantic and morphological reasons (where would the *-e- of such a form come from?). +See also neske, -ñäṣṣe, ñasso and, borrowed from TchA, ñyās. +

+ + +
+

+ñi +See ñaś. +

+ + +
+

+ñ(i)kañce* +(adj.) +‘silver(n)’
+[m: -, -, ñ(i)kañce//ñ(i)kañci, -, ñ(i)kañceṃ] [f: -, -, ñ(i)kañcai//] +ysāṣṣeṃ ñikañceṃ wmera ‘gold and silver jewels’ (109a4). +∎An adjectival derivative of ñkante, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ñikciye +See ñäkciye. +

+ + +
+

+ñiññe +(adj.) +‘my, prtng to me’
+[ñiññe, -, ñiññe//] +po läklentaṃts kselñeṣṣe sak källoyeṃ piś cmelṣi ñiññ=akālksa ‘by my wish may those of the five births achieve the good fortune of extinguishing all sufferings’ (S-7b3), /// nesäṃ ñiññe = BHS nāsti mamāyitam (U-25a7). + -- ñiññeṣṣe* ‘id.’: ñiś ñiññeṣṣeṃ wäntarwa weśeññai-yärm eñcīmar (S-5b5). +∎An adjectival derivative of ñi ‘my’ (the genitive of ñaś, q.v.). +

+ + +
+

+Ñirot +(n.) +‘Nirodha’ (PN of a prince)
+[Ñirot, -, -//] +(294a3). +

+ + +
+

+ñu +(number) +‘nine’
+ṣuk[t] okt śak wat satāṣṣäṃ | ṣkas piś ñu wat no ṣaṃṣtär ‘seven, eight, or ten he exhales; however, he counts six, five or nine’ (41a8/b1), tricemeṃ-ne ñune ‘in the third month, on the ninth [day]’ (LP-31a2). + -- ñu-ñu ‘by nines’: ñu ñu pakenta tsarästär ‘it is divided into shares by nines’ (591a3) [see also ñuwār]; +
+ñu-meñantse-ne ‘on the ninth of the month’ (433a28). +∎AB ñu reflect PTch *ñuw(ä) from PIE *(h₁)néwṇ or possibly *(h₁)néwṃ (on which see below) [: Sanskrit náva, Avestan nava, Armenian inn (< *enwṇ), Greek ennéa (rebuilt after the ordinal *enwṇto-), Albanian nëndë (< *(h₁)newṇti-), Latin novem, Old Irish nói n-, Gothic niun, Lithuanian devynì, OCS devętь (= Albanian nëndë, with the initial, as in Baltic, by dissimilation from the following *-n- or by influence of the word for ‘ten’ *deḱṃ, or both) (P:318-319; MA:403)] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927, VW:328-329). It is usually assumed that the final sound was *-ṇ and that the *-ṃ presupposed by Latin novem (cf. the ordinal nōnus) and TchB ñumka ‘ninety’ is by analogy to *septṃ ‘seven’ and *déḱṃ ‘ten.’ +See also ñunte, ñumka, and ñuwār. +

+ + +
+

+ñunte +(adj.) +‘ninth’
+[m: ñunte, -, ñuñce//-, -, ñuñceṃ] +śkänte-ñunte ‘ninteenth’ (123b4), ñuñce meṃ-ne ‘in the ninth month’ (LP-11a2). +∎From PIE *(h₁)newṇto- [: Greek eínatos (< *enwṇto-), Gothic niundo, Lithuanian deviñtas, OCS devętъ, and, morphologically more distant, Sanskrit navamá-, Avestan naoma- (both < *newemó-), Old Irish nómad, Welsh nawfed (both < *neumeto-), and Latin nōnus (< *neweno-) (P:319; MA:403)]. Cf. Winter, 1991:138-139. +See also ñu. +

+ + +
+

+ñuṃṣṣu(-) +‘?’
+/// palāmai ṣpä | ñuṃṣṣu/// (584a8). +

+ + +
+

+ñumka +(number) +‘ninety’
+ñumka klautkents=ākalṣlyets ytariṃ toṃ waiptār akṣāre ‘they announced, all separately, the paths of the ninety ways to [their] students’ (28a5). + -- ñumka-ṣe ‘91’; +
+ñumka-ṣkas: ‘96’; +
+ñumka-okt ‘98’; +
+ñumka-ñu ‘99’. +∎TchB ñumka is the best evidence we have that the PIE word for ‘nine’ was *(h₁)néwṃ rather than *(h₁)newṇ (see the discussion s.v. ñu). A PIE *(h₁)newṃkomt would give regularly ñumka (for the development of -ka see the discussion s.v. täryāka). On the other hand, the -m- may reflect the analogical interference of *deḱṃ. TchA nmuk shows mysterious depalatalization and rebuilding after oktuk ‘eighty’ (cf. Smith, 1910:132, VW:319, Winter, 1991:121-122). +See also ñu. +

+ + +
+

+ñultse +(number) +‘nine thousand’
+keṃ ñor ṣukt nrainta toṃ tmān[e] ñul[tse] kwärsarw=enkwa keṃ ‘beneath the earth [are] these seven hells, nineteen thousand leagues surrounding the earth’ (45b3). +∎A compound of ñu + yaltse. +

+ + +
+

+ñuwār +(adv.) +‘by nines’
+ñ_uwār pake[nta] puttanktär ‘it is shared out by nines’ (591a4). +∎From ñu ‘nine,’ q.v., + the distributive suffix -ār. +See also ñu-ñu, s.v. ñu. +

+ + +
+

+ñuwe +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘new’; (b) ‘day of the new moon’
+[m: ñuwe, -, ñweṃ/] +(a) ñweṃ prastrāṃ yā[kwameṃ] ‘a new bedroll from wool’ (316b4), ñwe mape śātre śwātär ‘newly ripe grain is eaten’ (461a5), cewä śerkwameṃ wente yamaṣle cew wentesa ñuwe kuntiśke taṣale ‘from this cord a covering [is] to be made; over this covering a new little pot [is] to be put’ (M-3b2); +
+(b) ñweṃne trukāle Sumaiśe wasa kantine yikṣye ‘on the newmoon-[day] S. gave [as his] share flour for bread’ (433a6), piś kṣuṃntsa ñuñce meṃne [] ñweṃne ‘in the fifth year of the regnal period, in the ninth month, on the day of the new moon’ (LP-11a2). +∎TchA ñu and B ñuwe reflect PTch *ñäwe from PIE *néwo- [: Sanskrit náva-, Avestan nava-, Greek néos, Latin novus, Old Lithuanian navas, OCS novъ, Hittite newa-, all ‘new’; more distantly Gothic niujis, Lithuanian naũjas ‘new’ (< *neuyo-), or Armenian nor ‘new’ (< *nowero-?), etc. (P:769; MA:393)] (VW, 1941:77, 1976:328). +See also ñwetstse and possibly naimaññe. +

+ + +
+

+ñem* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘name’ [ñem tā-, ñem ai-, ñem klāw- ‘to name’]
+[-, -, ñem//-, ñemnaṃts, ñemna] +rājarṣi ṣey Gaye ñem om mäskeñca cwi ñemtsa wartto klāwa ‘there was a seer, Gaya [by] name there [and the Buddha] called the woods by his name’ (108b2), ñem ersna kselñemeṃ ‘from the extinction of name and form’ [= BHS nāmarūpaniro] (157b1), [śānta] ñem tässānte ‘the sheep were named’ (349b5), kete ñemntsa pwarne hom yāmäṃ su mā walke na ṣṭa ‘in whosoever's name one will make an oblation in the fire, he [is] not long destroyed’ [= ‘it is not long before he is destroyed’] (M-1b5), ñemne = BHS saṃjña- (Y-3b1). + -- -ñematstse* ‘having [such-and-such] a name’: ñake palsko ṣärpalñe-ñemace pratihar[i sä]lk[āte-meś] ‘now the wonder having the name of thought and explanation was drawn out for you’ (108b7), [U]ttare-ñemase soy ‘[his] son, Uttara by name’ (401a2) [for the formation, see Winter, 1979]; +
+ñem-kälywe ‘fame’: keklyauṣormeṃ krent ñem-kälywe wroccu wlo tañ ‘having heard of thy good fame, O great king’ (AMB-b4); +
+ñem-kälyweṣṣe ‘prtng to fame’: ñem-kälyweṣṣe mahursa ṣäñ tärne yaiytu ‘thine own head decorated with the diadem of fame’ (214b1/2). +∎TchA ñom and B ñem reflect PTch *ñēm (the rounding of PTch *-ē- to -o- in TchA is regular in the neighborhood of a labial), (as if) from PIE *h₁nēmṇ, a variant of the more usual *h₁nomṇ ‘name’ [: Sanskrit nāma (nt.), Avestan nāma (nt.) (the Indo-Iranian forms could be from either *h₁nomṇ or *h₁nēmṇ--whatever its origin, the -ā- has been extended throughout the paradigm as well as fixed accent on the root syllable [if that was not original]), Armenian anun (< *h₁nomno-?), Greek ónoma (nt.) (assimilated from *énoma), Albanian emër (m.) (< *h₁ṇmen-), Latin nōmen (nt.) (with the long vowel by conflation with *(g)nōmen ‘sign’--cf. cognōmen ‘surname’ [Cowgill, 1965:156]), Old Irish ainmm n- (nt.), Welsh anu (< *h₁ṇmṇ), Gothic namo (nt.) (< a "collective" *h₁nomōn), Old Prussian emnes ~ ennens (m.) (< *h₁ṇmen-), OCS imę (< a "collective" *h₁ṇmēn), Hittite lāman- (with dissimilation of the initial nasal), all ‘name’ (P:321; MA:390)] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927, VW:327). If, as Cowgill and Beekes (1969) have both supposed, the initial e-/o- of Greek or the a- of Armenian are prothetic vowels of non-laryngeal origin, then of course our reconstructions will be *nómṇ, etc. rather than *h₁nómṇ. (Others, e.g. Beekes (1969:229-230) have assumed *(h₁)ne/oh₃mṇ, on the basis of the Indo-Iranian nāman- and Latin nōmen (Greek ónoma would be from *(h₁)nh₃mṇ with generalized zero-grade). +
+It is difficult to reconstruct the original paradigm for this word. Cowgill himself (1965:156) ventures proterokinetic paradigm with a nom.-acc. sg. *h₁nómṇ, gen. *h₁nmén-s (> Old Irish anme) parallel to the *dóru ‘wood, tree,’ *dréus that lies behind Sanskrit dāru, drós. To the evidence of Celtic for such a weak stem should probably be added that of Anatolian. In the latter group we find Hieroglyphic Luvian at(a)man- ‘name’ and probably Lycian adâma(n)- from *a(n)dman- < *anman- < *(h₁)ṇ(h₃)mṇ- (Melchert, p.c.). Also possible would be an acrostatic paradigm with a nom.-acc. sg. *h₁nómṇ, gen. *h₁némṇs. Perhaps arguing for an original acrostatic paradigm is the strong evidence for a weak grade with -mn- rather than -mén-, e.g. Sanskrit instr. sg. nāmnā, Gothic nom.-acc. pl. namna, Hittite gen. sg. lamnas (but note the other Anatolian data presented above), etc. (see Beekes, 1969:230). In these cases we need assume only that the vowel timbre of the nom./acc. sg. was extended to the weak cases. From either *h₁nmén-s or *h₁némṇs a new nom.-acc. sg. *h₁nēmṇ could be constructed. +
+There is no need to assume that the initial *-ñ- is the result of "progressive palatalization" brought on by the preceding *h₁- as does Winter (1965:202) or that it results from some complicated reallocation of allomorphs *nem-/ñäm- from *h₁nómṇ/h₁némn- or *h₁nómṇ *h₁ṇmén- (> *nemä(n) and *eñmäns where the medial cluster *-mn- has been palatalized) as does Hilmarsson (1986:57). +

+ + +
+

+ñemek +(n.) +‘harvest’
+[ñemek, -, -//] +śaktalye iṅauṃ kästwer katnau ñaś ñemek takoy-ñ aśle [ṣek] ‘day and night I scatter seed [in the hope that] it will lead to a harvest for me’ (205a3). +∎(As if) from a PIE *nēm-ok-om (nt.), a derivative of *nem- ‘take’ [: Greek némō ‘deal out, dispense; pasture, graze,’ némesis (f.) ‘retribution,’ nómos (m.) ‘usage, custom; law,’ nomós (m.) ‘place of pasturage; habitation,’ nomízō ‘use customarily; consider as; enact,’ nōmáō ‘deal out, distribute,’ Gothic niman ‘take,’ andanēm (nt.) ‘taking,’ OHG nāma ‘robbery,’ Old Norse nām (m.) ‘taking, learning,’ Lithuanian núoma (f.) ‘rent, hire’ (namaĩ [m.] ‘house, dwellings,’ given by P, probably does not belong here but rather reflects *dom- (Hamp, p.c.), etc. (P:763-764; MA:564)]. It is noteworthy that both Tocharian and Germanic show reflexes of a vṛddhied *nēmo- ‘a taking.’ There is no need (with VW:325) to see here a compound of *nēm- with *-h₃ok^w- ‘appearance.’ +

+ + +
+

+ñerwe +(adv.) +‘today’
+/// ñerwesa mante śak-wi pik_ul=eṃṣke ‘from today on for twelve years’ (350a3), /// ce_u kautāsta ñerwe ‘thou hast split it today’ (520a2). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (326) assumes a putative PIE *ne-yeh₁r-wo- where ne- is the same demonstrative element seen in ñake ‘now,’ ye/oh₁r- is ‘period of time, year’ seen in Germanic year and Greek hōra ‘period of time, year; hour’ [also hōros ‘time, year,’ Avestan yārə (nt.) ‘year,’ Russian Church Slavonic jara ‘spring,’ Luvian ari- ‘time’ (Melchert, 1989:41, fn. 28), and Latin hornus ‘of this year,’ if an adjectival derivative of *hōiōrō ‘in this year’ (P:296; MA:654)] and -wo- is a secondary suffix. (For *ne- Hamp [p.c.] suggests as possible alternatives *ni- or *h₁eni.) Semantically we would have *‘at this time’ > ‘today.’ VW points to OHG hiuru (< hiu jāru) which in Austrian German has given heuer ‘in this year’ with its derived adjective heurig ‘of this year, current.’ VW's suggestion works phonologically if we can assume an early contraction of *eyē- to *-ē-. +

+ + +
+

+ñor +(adv.) +‘below, beneath, under; down’
+nigrot [s]t[ā]m ñor ṣek su mäskīträ ‘he was always to be found beneath the fig-tree’ (3b3), asāṃmeṃ ñor klāya ‘he fell down from the throne’ (93a5), /// tverene [sic] lyinālle ṣat kolyi ñor ṣuktañce kauṃ lyutasken-ne ‘... [is] to be stuck in the door, a sliver of hoof below, [on] the seventh day they leave him’ (M-3b1). + -- ñoru-wär ‘downstream’: se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyana[mpa o]lyine ṣamäṃ kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat parna totte kat[k]alñesa pāyti ‘whatever monk by agreement sits in a boat with nuns and guides the boat upstream or downstream except [it is] to cross to the other shore, pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-b4/5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]); +
+ñorīye* (adj.) ‘lower’: /// ñorīya kātso orottsa tākaṃ tesa päst ṣamäṃ ‘[if] the lower belly is big, by this it subsides’ (W-14a6). +∎Etymology uncertain. Semantically and morphologically attractive is Hilmarsson's connection of this word (1986:297-304) with the otherwise isolated Greek adjective (attested only in the feminine) neíaira ‘lower’ (hē neíaira ‘abdomen’ [cf. TchB ñoriya kātso], neíatos ‘lowest,’ neióthe(n) ‘from the bottom,’ neióthi ‘at the the bottom, under, beneath’). He takes neíaira to be a derivative of a *nē(w)ar from PIE *neh₁wṛ. This *neh₁wṛ would give B ñor regularly (cf. the same development in ṣñor ‘sinew’ from *sneh₁wṛ). The semantics and phonology of this suggestion seem very good, no matter what cognates, if any, exist in Indo-European for this word. Alternatively one might follow Meillet in Hoernle (1916:380, also VW:328) and connect ñor with that group represented by Greek énerthe(n) ‘beneath,’ éneroi ‘inferi,’ nérteros ‘lower,’ the Germanic family represented by English north, and a group in Baltic represented by neriù ‘plunge, dive into,’ nėróvė ‘water nymph’ (P:765-766; MA: 611; and Hilmarsson, 1986:76). In this case ñor would reflect a PIE *nēru. +See also ñormye. +

+ + +
+

+ñormye +(adj.) +‘± lower’
+[m: ñormiye, -, ñormiye//] +[ñor]my[e] bhūmimeṃ vairāk yaṃ [] ñormye bhūmi/// (185b1), /// auṣämiye ñormiye wassi /// ‘upper and lower clothing’ [or ‘outer and under clothing’?] (332.1a). +∎An adjectival derivative of ñor, q.v., but except for auṣämiye, q.v., the formation in -miye is otherwise unattested. +See also ñor. +

+ + +
+

+ñkante* +(n.) +‘silver’
+[-, ñkantentse, ñkante//] +yasa ñkante wrākaññeṃ wmera makci priyeṃ ‘they themselves were wearing jewels of gold, silver, and pearl’ (PK-NS-18A-a2 [Thomas, 1978a:239]). +∎TchA nkiñc and B ñkañte are usually taken (with Rahder, 1963:107, also VW:634) to be borrowings from Archaic Chinese *ngiɛn ‘silver’ provided with Tocharian suffixes. Hilmarsson (1986:202) suggests that the PTch *-änte that probably lies behind the B -nte and the further derived -ñc of A are by analogy to a lost *ārkänte ‘silver’ from PIE *h₂erǵṇtom. However, remembering that what is transcribed as ng- in the Archaic Chinese is actually not a cluster but a dorso-velar nasal, the phonological equation becomes much less appealing. We might expect *ŋy- to have given Tocharian *ñ- tout court. Witczak (1990b) more plausibly suggests that we have PIE *h₂reǵṇtóm (as in Sanskrit rajatám ‘silver’) that underwent progressive assimilation to *h₂neǵṇtóm whence ñkante regularly (P:64; MA:518). +See also ñ(i)kañce. +

+ + +
+

+ñyās +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘desire, longing for’
+[ñyās, -, ñyās//] +ñyasa[meṃ] = BHS chanda- (7a2), pelaikneṣṣe śaul śpālmeṃ cauk twe ñyāssa ñäṣṣitar ‘thou seekest this excellent righteous life with desire’ (231b1), cwī saṃtkenta ślek saṃtkīnau ñāssa ñṣalle [sic] ‘likewise the doctor [is] to seek with desire the remedies for him’ (286b4), ñās tanmästä[r] = BHS cchandaṃ janayati (537b2). + -- ñyasassu ‘desirous’ (294a5) +∎A borrowing from TchA ñās ‘id.’ (Winter, 1961:279). This ñās (gender and plural unknown) reflects a PTch *ñēsā-, a derivative of the verbal root *ñäs- which underlies ñäsk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ñyātse +(nnt.) +‘danger; plague, distress’
+[ñyātse, -, ñyātse//-, -, ñyatsenta] +mai ñi tākaṃ laitalñe wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe | epe wat no śaulantse ñyātse ñi ste nesalle ‘will there be for me a falling from [my] great, royal throne? or is there to be a danger to my life?’ (5a4), toṃ mā tākoṃ śaiṣṣene mā nke tsanko[y] pudñäkte | toṃ ñyatstsenta wikässiś poyśinta tne tsenkeṃtar [lege: -tär] ‘[if] these were not in the world, the Buddha would not arise; buddhas arise here to vanquish such dangers’ (5a6/7), ñātse [= BHS īti] [] snai ñātse [= BHS anīti] (543a5). +‣The shape ñyātse would appear to be the older one. Ñātse is the result of a simplification of initial ñy- to ñ-, primarily in the eastern part of the TchB-speaking area (Hilmarsson, 1991b:137). + -- ñyatseṣṣe ‘prtng to danger, dangerous’: tsäkṣträ śaiṣṣe empele ñyatseṣṣe ce_u puwa[r]ne ‘the world burns in this horrible, dangerous fire’ (295a8); +
+ñyatsassu ‘± dangerous’: ceṃts welñeś ṣek ñyatsasu krentäṃ etswai nessiśco rmamñe eru (S-5b6); -- -ñyatsetstse* ‘having danger’ only in the compound makā-ñyatsetstse* ‘having many dangers’ (35b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. Related to TchA ñātse, probably because the A form is borrowed from B. Extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. Plausible is Hilmarsson's suggestion (1991b:137-139) that the nearest relatives of ñyātse are to be found in Germanic [: Gothic neiþ (nt.) ‘ill-will, envy,’ Old English níþ (nt.) ‘enmity, hate, combat,’ OHG níd(h) ‘enmity, hate, combative fury, etc.’ (all < Proto-Germanic *nīþa- (nt.)] and Celtic [: Old Irish níth (gen. nítho) ‘combat, combative fury’ (< *nítu-), Welsh nwyd ‘passion’]. Hilmarsson equates the Tocharian and Germanic forms as *nih_xtyo- and *nih_xto- respectively. I would be more comfortable, since the semantic match is not exact in any case, reconstructing pre-Tocharian *nih_x-eh_a-tyo-. (Rightly rejected is VW's suggestion [324] of a putative PIE *mn-iyeh_a-tyo-, a derivative of PIE *men- ‘compress.’) +

+ + +
+

+ñwetstse* +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘new’ [ñwecce klutk- ‘renew’]; (b) ‘novice’
+[-, -, ñwecce//-, ñwecceṃts, -] +(a) war yokaiṣṣe witskaṃ waiwäṣṣäṃ ne n_änok ñwecce klutkäṣṣä[n-n]e ‘the water of thirst wets it and again it becomes new’ (11b3); +
+(b) weña pūdñäkte ... tarya śpālmeṃ ślokanma ñwecceṃts traike wikässi[ś] ‘the Buddha spoke the three excellent ślokas to drive away the confusion of the novices’ (5b7). + -- ñwetstsäññe ‘± newness, renewal’ (360a1); +
+ñwetsäññeṣṣe ‘± new’ (?): mā ñwet[sä]ññeṣṣe ̇ai ̇e/// (128b5). +∎An adjective in -tstse derived from ñuwe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ñśaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘± prtng to me, my’
+[m: -, -, ñśaṣṣe//] +nauṣ ra preśyaine ñśaṣṣe trenkältsa śaul rintsate (109b4). +∎An adjectival derivative of ñaś, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṭikkakāre +(n.) +‘commentator’
+[ṭikkakāre, -, -//] +(197a2). +∎From BHS ṭīkākāra-. +

+ + +
+

+Ṭepankar +See Dīpankar. +

+ + +
+

+taka (~ tkā) +(adv.) +‘then; certainly’
+/// eśnesa menkitse [su] tkā ra [t]rīśäṃ aiśaumye ‘he [is] lacking eyes; thus the wiseman confuses [him]’ (293b1), taka rano anaiwatse srukalñeṣṣe ime onolmets ‘certainly the thought of death [is] unpleasant to creatures’ (K-11a5), kaun-yaṣi anahār ṣmale taka arkwañaṣṣa tāno puwarne hom yamaṣäle ‘day and night [one is] to sit [in] abstinence, then an arkwaña-seed [is] to be put in the fire [as] an oblation’ (M-1b5). +∎From PIE *tu ‘and, but, then’ [: Sanskrit tú ‘however, but’] + Tocharian -kā, a particle of reinforcement (VW:491). +

+ + +
+

+takaru (~ tagar) +(n.) +‘Ervatamia coronaria Stapf.’ (= ‘Tabernaemontana coronaria R. Br.’ [Filliozat]) or ‘Valeriana wallichii DC’ [Chopra] (a medical ingredient)
+[takaru ~ tagar, -, -//] +tagar palāśäṣṣe piltasa = BHS tagaram palāśapatreṇa (308b5). +∎From BHS tagara-. +

+ + +
+

+takarṣke +(adj.) +‘faithful, believing; clear, unsullied; gracious’
+[takarṣke, -, takarṣkeṃ//-, -, takarṣkaṃ] [f: //takarṣkana, -, -] +pelaikne klyauṣtsi nauṣ pete-ñ tak[arṣkeṃ palskosa] ‘give me early to hear the law with clear spirit’ (100a6), takarṣke ñiś = BHS abhikrānto haṃ (541a2), takarṣke = BHS prasanno (PK-NS-107b2 [Thomas, 1976b:106]), takarṣkaṃ mäskentär = BHS viprasīdanti ‘become serene, calm’ (-b3 [ibid.]). + -- takarṣkäññe ‘belief; clarity; graciousness’: cewne persat takarṣkñe ‘evoke it in [scil. the law] belief!’ (19a2), takarṣkñe = BHS śraddhā (23a2), takarṣkñesa tne pel=ostaṣṣe rintsi yā[taṃ] ‘[if] he through faith is capable here of renouncing the prison of the house’ (50b2), mā tu pañäktene takarkṣäññentse [sic] [takarṣkäññentse = BHS -prasādasya] (307a2), takarṣkäṃñe ṣañäññecce = BHS prasādanīya[ṃ] (541b8); +
+takarṣkäññetstse ‘gracious, attractive, fair’: [= BHS prāsādika] (541b8). +∎An adjectival derivative of tāk- ‘be’ (s.v. nes-) whose original meaning must have been ‘true’ or the like (cf. atākatte ‘unreal, false’). The meanings ‘clear’ and ‘gracious,’ etc., are calques on the BHS prasanna- ‘believing in; clear; gracious’ (VW:492). For the formation one should compare pautarṣke, mäntarṣke, and mällarṣke, all adjectives derived directly from verbal stems. +See also tāk- (s.v. nes-) and atākatte. +

+ + +
+

+takur +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[takur, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients (W-34b2). +‣The same as takaru? +

+ + +
+

+takälñe +See täk-. +

+ + +
+

+tagar +See takaru. +

+ + +
+

+tanki +(adv.) +‘very, fully’; ([indeclinable] adj.) ‘full, blocked’
+tparyane tanki wartsane āṃtsne ‘high, very broad shoulders’ (73a5/6), perpette premane ra ankaiṃ yamalle ṣp melyi tanki mäskeṃnträ ‘like [one] bearing a burden [he will] vomit; [his] nose is stuffed’ (FS-a2). +∎TchA tänki and B tanki reflect PTch *tänki from a PIE *tṇk- ‘± thick’ + a PTch suffix *-i [: Sanskrit tanákti ‘pulls together,’ takrá- (nt.) ‘buttermilk’ (< *tṇkló-), Afghan tat ‘thick’ (< *tahta- < *tṇkto-), Middle Irish técht ‘coagulated’ (< *tenkto-), Icelandic tél ‘buttermilk’ (< *tenklo-), Lithuanian tánkus ‘thick, copious,’ etc. (P:1068; MA:516)] (VW, 1964b:614, 1976:502). +

+ + +
+

+tankw +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘love’
+[tankw, -, tankw//] +yokaiṣṣe ce kraupe weña tū ñke taṅsa päklyauṣso ‘he spoke this section about desire; hear it now with love!’ (8a7), weksa sr[a]kañce kwoytär-ne taṅsa snai kärsto ‘he cried out with a hoarse voice with love, without interruption’ (85a1). + -- tänkwaññe ‘pleasing, lovely’: tänkwaññe omteṃ poyśi nes[a]ñ[ñ]e yamaṣate ‘there the Buddha took [his] favorite spot’ (108b3), tāw no māka täṅwaṃññai Bārāṇasi rīne ‘in this much beloved city of Benares’ (359b1), ṣmare yetse täṅwaññe wnolmentse ṣek cpī mäsketrä ‘smooth and lovely is always the skin of such a being’ (K-10a3); +
+tänkwäññaññe ‘desirableness’ (394b5); +
+tänkwaṣṣe ‘prtng to love’ (339b4); +
+tänkwassu* ‘dear, beloved’: pātär mā ärne täṅwassu ṣaim ‘I was dear to father and mother’ (412a3); +
+tänkwatstse* ‘± having love’ only in the derived abstract noun: tänkwtsäññe* [sic] ‘± love’ (515a7). +∎TchA tunk and B tankw reflect PTch *tänkw (for the vowel in TchA one should compare yuk ‘horse’ from Ptch yäkwe [> B yakwe, q.v.]). This *tänkw is (as if) from PIE *tṇg-wṇ, a verbal noun from PIE *teng- ‘think, feel’ (Krause, 1943:29, Pedersen, 1943:209-210, VW:518). Further discussion at cänk-, q.v. +See also tänkwaññ-. +

+ + +
+

+tañ +See tuwe. +

+ + +
+

+taññe* +(adj.) +‘thy, pertaining to thee’
+[m: -, -, taññe//] +taññe cau yaitko[r] /// ‘this thy command’ (90b1). +∎An adjectival derivative of tañ, the genitive of tuwe ‘thou,’ q.v. +See also ciṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+tatākar +See nes-. +

+ + +
+

+Tati +(n.) +‘Tati’ (PN in graffito)
+[Tati, -, -//] +(G-Qm11). +

+ + +
+

+tattari +(n.) +a very large number
+śe tattari [[>] it could also be read tantari] piś-känte cmelane’ (400a2). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+Tathāgatavārg* +(n.) +‘Tathāgatavarga’ (a portion of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Tathāgatavārg//] +(313b3=S-5b1). +

+ + +
+

+tanalle +‘?’
+/// traiwo tanalle /// (W-13a2). +∎In form it would appear that we have gerund formed from a stem /tänā-/. Could this be a derivative of PIE *ten- ‘extend’? +

+ + +
+

+tanākko +(nf.) +‘grain; spot’
+[tanākko, -, tanākkai//] +śwālyai [pai]yyeññe mokocintse āntene tuciyai tanākkai lkāṣṣäṃ ‘he sees a yellow spot on the tip of the big toe of the right foot’ (580b2), [list of ingredients] tānakkai tānakkai tsämṣalle ‘grain [by] grain [it is] to increase’ (Y-1b3). +∎A derivative of tāno ‘grain,’ q.v. (contra VW:642). +

+ + +
+

+tanāpate +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘benefactor, patron’
+[tanāpate, tanāpatentse, tanāpateṃ//tanāpati, tanāpateṃts, tanāpateṃ] +tanāpatentsa ostwasa ekñintasa entseño mäntañyentär ṣemi ‘some became evil-minded out of envy for patrons, houses, and possessions’ (31b7), tanāpate ksa ṣamāneṃ aśiyana ṣpä śwātsiś kakāte ‘a certain patron invited monks and nuns to eat’ (H-149.X.5b2/3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- tanāpattäññe ‘prtng to a patron’ (517a2). +∎From BHS dānapati-. +

+ + +
+

+tanā-mot +See tāno. +

+ + +
+

+tane ~ tne +(adv.) +‘here, (there)’
+[an unmarked, often neutral, locative] +eṅwentse tane tetemoṣepi peret ko[yne tämasträ no] [tane = BHS iha] (16a5), k_use tne cmīträ mā srūko[y] ‘whoever is born here, would not die’ (46b2), te keklyau[ṣo]rmeṃ Araṇemiñ lānte pit maiwāte-ne k[eṃ]tsa klāya [] tane orottsa kwasalñeṣṣa weśeñña klyauṣāte ‘having heard this, the gall of King A. shook [= he fell unconscious] and he fell to the ground; there was a great voice of woe heard’ (85b4/5), Mokṣawarme tane śem tuntse ṣotri ‘M. came here; thereof the sign’ (G-Qm13), mäksū no yāmor mäkcewsa tne onolmi nraintane cmenträ solmeṃ omte śaul śāyeṃ ‘however, what is the deed through which beings here, [if] they are born in hells, will live there [their] whole life?’ (K-2b4). +‣For a full discussion of meaning, form, and function, see Thomas, 1979. + -- tnek ‘id.’ (täne + kä): olypo ost lamam tnek wes āyo[r aitsi cämpem] ‘[if] we sit/remain [in] a house, we could give a gift there’ (50a7), nrai[ṣṣe lwāññe] pretenṣe tnek nai kṣanti kälale ‘for hellish [being], animal or preta, only here [is] forgiveness achievable’ (554b5). +∎Probably in origin the neuter deictic pronoun te plus the locative -ne preserved as such in tene, q.v. Täne (> tne) is the expected unstressed form (cf. päst [unstressed] and pest [stressed]), while tane is the secondarily restressed form (Melchert, p.c.). +See also tene and te. +

+ + +
+

+tanaulyko* +(n.) +‘± fly’
+[//tanaulykañ, -, -] +tanaulykaṃ ramt sekwetse pīle ra ptark[aso] ‘leave the suppurating wound [which you are buzzing around] like flies’ (48a5). +∎Etymology unknown. See VW (492) for a suggestion (tanau- from PIE *(s)ten- ‘make a sound’ and lykā- ‘thief’). +

+ + +
+

+tant* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± power, dominion’
+[-, -, tant//täntanma, -, -] +täntne yaneṃ srukallentse ‘they come into the dominion of death’ (304a4), [pi]ś-känte aśokäṃñana tantanma oro/// ‘Aśoka's 500 powers/dominions’ (415b2). +∎Possibly a derivative of PIE *ten- ‘pull, extend’ [: Sanskrit tanóti ‘extends, spreads; stretches [a chord], bends [a bow],’ Greek tánutai ‘stretches, strains,’ teínō ‘stretch, pull tight,’ (dialectal) Albanian ndënj ‘expand, pull,’ Latin teneō ‘have, hold,’ Old English þenian ‘stretch out, extend,’ Lithuanian tìnti ‘swell,’ etc. (P:1065-1066; MA:187)]. More particularly we have a PIE *tṇti- ‘extension’ as seen in Greek tásis (f.) ‘stretching, tension; extension; intensity, force,’ Sanskrit tati- (f.) ‘mass, crowd, the whole mass; ceremony.’ (Cf. VW:501, though the details are completely different.) +See also possibly tanalle. +

+ + +
+

+tanmäṣṣuki +(n.) +‘one who engenders’
+[tanmäṣṣuki, -, -//] +tarya vedantats putkau tanmaṣuki viṣai mā nesäṃ ‘separated from the three-fold veda there is no engenderer of the range of the senses’ (197b3/4). +∎A nomen agentis from täm-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tanneṃ +(adv.) +‘± thereto, thereconcerning’
+akalṣälyi weskeṃ upādhyāya k_use wesäñ tanneṃ yamaṣä[l]le ‘the disciples say: what [is] to be done by us about it?’ (81a4/5). +∎Etymology uncertain. This word must be related in some fashion to the demonstrative pronouns seen in te, tu, or tam but the exact history is obscure. +

+ + +
+

+tapatriś* +(n.) +‘the thirty-three gods’
+[-, -, tapatriś//] +(99a2). +∎From Khotanese ttāvatrīś- (< BHS trayastriṃśa- or Pali tāvatiṃsa-). +

+ + +
+

+tapani +‘?’
+tapani ysā/// (563a2). +

+ + +
+

+tapaseṃ +‘?’
+///kace tapaseṃ /// (208a1). +

+ + +
+

+tapākiśka* +(n.) +‘± little mirror’
+[-, -, tapākiśkai//] +∎A diminutive of tapākye. +

+ + +
+

+tapākye +(nf.) +‘mirror’
+[tapākye, -, tapāki//] +kauṃ tapāki ramt ñ[ä]kcy[ai] ‘the sun like a divine mirror’ (73a1). + -- tapakiṣṣe ‘prtng to a mirror’: ñake nano tapakiṣṣi yerpesa tarya śiriṃ lkāṣṣäṃ ‘now again he sees three stars by means of a mirror-orb’ (H-149.42b2 [Thomas, 1986:119]). +∎TchA tāpaki and B tapākye reflect PTch *tāpāki-. Extra-Tocharian cognates are unknown. It is conceivable that the -āk- portion of this word is that same as in pratsāko ‘chest’ and reflects a late PIE *-h₃ōk^w- ‘looking, seeing’ but the first part would remain obscure. Alternatively Hamp (p.c.) that semantically we might expect something like ‘retro-h₃k^w-’ with -h₃k^w- not ‘seeing’ so much as ‘direction (of sight).’ The preceding tāp- might then be *(h_x)t- (cf. Celtic *ati) or *d- (as in to) + *apo or the like. In any case not with VW (1966b:499, 1976:498) related to Greek théā (< *d^heh_aweh_a- ‘contemplation, aspect; spectacle.’ Isebaert (apud Thomas, 1985b:113) suggests that we have here a borrowing from Middle Iranian *tā ‘kijken, schouwen, zien’ + *āpaki (< *āpakiya-) ‘doorzichtig, weerspiegelend.’ Such an origin would nicely account for both the semantics and the phonology but the lack of any attestation of this putative compound in Iranian itself makes one suspicious. +See also tapākiśka*. +

+ + +
+

+tapovaṃ-wartto* +(n.) +‘a grove in which religious austerities are performed’
+[-, -, tapovaṃ-wartto//] +∎A compound of BHS tapovana- and TchB wartto, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tapre +(adj.) +(a) ‘high’; (b) ‘fat’
+[m: tapre, -, täpreṃ/tparyane, -, -/-, -, täprenäṃ] [f: tparya, -, -//] +(a) tā_u onkorñ[ai] srañciyeṃ tappre kauś yey ‘they boiled the porridge and it went high up’ (107a1), [tä]prenäṃ ṣleṃts tsänkarwa maistär se ‘he overtops [?] the peaks of the high mountains’ (355b3); +
+(b) kātso mā tparya mā rukausa ‘the stomach, not fat, not lean’ (75a3). + -- täprauñe* ‘height’: pernerñeṣe Sumersa täprauñentats [tä]rne[ne] śmasta ‘thou hast come to the summit of the heights over glorious Mt. Sumeru’ (203a4/5), täprauñenta = BHS samucchrayāḥ (H-149.329b1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486]). +∎TchA tpär and B tapre ‘high’ reflect PTch *täpre from a putative PIE *d^hub-ro- ‘deep’ (what is deep when viewed from above may be taken as high when viewed from below, cf. Latin mare altum or English high seas) a derivative of PIE *d^heub- ‘deep’ [: Gothic diups and English deep, Illyrian dúbris ‘thálassa,’ Lithuanian dubùs ‘deep, hollow,’ dumbù ‘become hollow, sink inward,’ OCS dъbrь ‘abyss,’ dъno (< *dъbno-) ‘ground,’ Alb dēt ‘sea’ (< *d^heuboto-), etc. (P:268-269; MA:154)], TchA täp- ‘be(come) high,’ and perhaps TchA tsopats ‘great, large’ if from < *d^hēubotyo- (Krause and Thomas, 1960:52, VW:509, 535). Normier (1980:260) would add Greek buthós (nt.) ‘depth’ which he takes to be from *thubós by analogy to bathós ‘id.’ of a different origin. An echo of the earlier meaning ‘deep’ within Tocharian itself is provided by the derivative tparṣke ‘shallow’ (< *‘little deep’). +See also taupe, tparṣke, and perhaps täp-. +

+ + +
+

+tamāl +(n.) +‘Garcinia xanthochymus Hook.’ [aka ‘Xanthochymus pictorius’]
+[tamāl, -, -//] +(275a2). +∎From BHS tamāla-. +See also tamālapaträ. +

+ + +
+

+tamālapaträ +(n.) +‘the leaf of G. Xanthochymus Hook.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[tamālapaträ, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS tamālapattra-. +See also tamāl. +

+ + +
+

+tamne +See sam(p). +

+ + +
+

+tam(p) +See samp. +

+ + +
+

+tayiyak +‘?’
+tayiyak /// (112b2). +

+ + +
+

+taram +(n.) +‘Fagonica cretica Linn.’ [aka ‘Fagonica arabica’ ] (a medical ingredient)
+[taram, -, -//] +(591b2). + -- taramäṣṣe ‘prtng to F. cretica’ (W-26a3); +
+taramätstse ‘possessing F. cretica’ (497a6). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+taruṇadivākar* +(n.) +a meter of 19/19/10/19 syllables [a/b/d: 7/7/5, c: 5/5]
+[-, -, taruṇadivākar//] +(85a5, 100b1). +

+ + +
+

+tarkañetstse +See tarkāñe. +

+ + +
+

+tarkalñe +See tärk-. +

+ + +
+

+tarkāñe +(n.) +‘± conduct,’ in the phrase ārtte tarkāñe ‘indifferent conduct,’ and that only in the derived adjective: ārtte tarkañetstse ‘having indifferent conduct’
+/// ārtte tarkañetstse mäsketrä se su ārtte tarkāñe upekṣ s[te] (197a4). +∎A nominal derivative of ¹tärk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tarkāttsa* +(n.) +‘carpenter’
+[-, -, tarkāttsaṃ//tarkāttsañ, -, -] +or namseṃ tarkāttsaṃ ṣañ añm y[ātäskeṃ] [tarkāttsaṃ = BHS takṣaka-] (PK-NS-107b1 [Thomas, 1976b:106]). +∎A nomen agentis which, like the similar wapāttsa ‘weaver,’ derived from the subjunctive stem wāpā-, must be from the unattested subjunctive of ²tärk- ‘± twist,’ q.v. (Thomas, 1976b:110). +

+ + +
+

+tarkär +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cloud’
+[tarkär, -, tarkär//-, -, tärkarwa] +[sā]nkämp=eṣe l[aṃ] nākiṣṣe tärkarmeṃ ‘he will emerge with [his] community from the cloud of reproach’ (16a2), yātka-me walo lyutsi po ypoymeṃ wīka tarkär śakkeññeṃtso tsama yarke po[yśintse] ‘the king ordered all of them to leave the realm; the cloud over the Śākyas disappeared and the honor of the Buddha grew’ (18a2). + -- tärkarwaṣṣe ‘prtng to clouds’: /// tärkärwaṣṣe prewtkemeṃ ‘from the prison of clouds’ (514b5); +
+tärkarwatstse ‘having clouds’ (355b2). +∎TchA tärkär and B tarkär reflect PTch *tärkär, (as if) from PIE *d^hṛg-r-u-, a verbal noun from *d^herg- [: Lithuanian dérgia ‘there is bad weather,’ dárgana, dárga ‘rainy weather, bad weather of any sort,’ Old Russian padoroga ‘± stormy weather,’ Middle Irish derg ‘red,’ Old English deorc ‘dark,’ etc. (P:251-252; MA:477)] (Fraenkel, 1962:103, VW:503)]. The Tocharian-Baltic connection is particularly striking semantically. +

+ + +
+

+tarne +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘crown of the head; summit’
+[tarne, -, tarne//] +pernerñeṣe Sumersa täprauñentats [tä]rne[ne] śmasta ‘thou hast come to the summit of the heights over glorious Mt. Sumeru’ (203a4/5), tarnene krorīyai ‘the horn on the crown of the head’ (580b4), tärnemeṃ paine täṅtsi ‘from crown of the head to feet’ (H-149.44b4 [Thomas, 1954:750]), Winter/Gabain:12 ([in Manichean script] t’rnynyy [= tarnene]). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (1963b:42, 1976:493) sees in this word a PIE *dṛh_xno- like the Sanskrit participle dīrṇá- ‘broken’ (present dṛṇāti) and Welsh darn ‘piece, fragment.’ As to the semantics he points to German Scheitel ‘crown of the head’ scheiden ‘separate’ or Swedish skäl ‘crown of the head’ beside skilja ‘separate.’ However, the primary comparanda of tarne would appear to be Yazgulmani tern ‘crown of the head’ (and a bit more distantly Khotanese tāra- ~ tāri- ‘id.’ and Modern Persian tār(e) ‘id.’) and Hittite tarna- ‘id.’ (for the Tocharian-Hittite equation, see Poetto, 1976). Certainly tern, etc., argues for a PIE initial *t- rather than *d-. Possibly the Tocharian and Hittite forms could be united under the formula *tṛh_xno- (Melchert, p.c., for the Hittite--the Hittite could also be from *tṛno- or *ter(h_x)no- or *tor(h_x)no-). The Yazgulmani might be (very tentatively) *tōrh_xnyo- (and the other Iranian *tōro-). +

+ + +
+

+Tarmacandre* +(n.) +‘Dharmacandra’ (PN)
+[-, Tarmacandrentse, -//] +(495a3). +

+ + +
+

+Tarmawirñe +(n.) +‘Dharmavīra’ (PN in caravan passes)
+[Tarmawirñe, -, -//] +(LP-15a2/3). +

+ + +
+

+tarya +See trai. +

+ + +
+

+taryopavicār* = taryā + upavicār +(n.) +‘three ranges of the senses’ (?)
+[//-, -, taryopavicāränta] +(173a1). +∎If correctly identified we have TchB tarya ‘three’ (s.v. trai) + BHS upavicāra-. +

+ + +
+

+taryyältse +(number) +‘three thousand’
+maiwa [keṃ ta]r[y]yäl[ts]e po śaiṣṣenne ‘the earth shook in all three thousand worlds’ (274b6), tarältse [sic] (563a1), tarältse (PK-AS16.2b4 [Pinault, 1989:155]. +∎A compound of tarya (see trai) and yaltse, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tarśke* +(n.) +‘potsherd’ (?)
+[//tarśkañ, -, -] +kärweñi yare tarśkañ salañce mäskenträ pākri ‘rocks, gravel, potsherds [?], and salt-earth appear’ (K-8b4). +∎Certainly in form a diminutive and quite possibly a derivative of PIE *der(h_x)- ‘split.’ Thus the ‘little split off piece.’ +See also tsär-. +

+ + +
+

+tars +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+/// [ta]rs ra yänmoṃ cewk palsko /// (517b3), //// cau tars śār aipśalle ste /// (598b2). +

+ + +
+

+tarstwa* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± ulterior motives, mental reservations’
+[//-, -, tarstwa] +ompalskoññe päst prankäṣṣäṃ natknaṃ lauke aiśamñe yarke peti ñaṣtär sū | ṣkas toṃ tarstwasa ṣek sū yaskastär ‘he blocks up meditation completely, pushes away wisdom, and seeks honor and flattery; he seeks constantly after the six tarstwa’ (33b2/3). +∎Etymology unknown. VW: 493 suggests a connection with PIE *tres- ~ ters- ‘tremble.’ +

+ + +
+

+taluñca +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[taluñca, -, -//] +(505a1). +

+ + +
+

+tallāñciśke* +(adj.) +‘miserable’
+[//-, -, tallāñciśkaṃ] +tallāñciśkaṃ pātär mātär rīntsāmte pest ‘we completely renounced [our] miserable father and mother’ (273a5). +∎The diminutive of tallāw. +

+ + +
+

+tallārñe* +(n.) +‘misery’
+[-, -, tallārñe//] +erkatñe tallārñe snai keś wärpanaträ tne piś toṃ cmelane ‘ill-fortune and misery without number he enjoys here among the five births’ (42b3). +∎A derivative of täl-, q.v., whose shape has been influenced (in the matter of the geminate -l-) by the following entry. +

+ + +
+

+tallāw +(adj.) +‘miserable, unfortunate’
+[m: tallāw, tallānte, tallānt//tallāñc, -, tallāntäṃ] [f: tallauntsa, -, tallauntsai//-, -, tallānta] +skwassu nesau paplāntau yes tallāñc läklessoñc ‘I am fortunate and happy, you [are] miserable and suffering’ (31a2), snaice tallānt ikemeṃ ṣamāni tatākaṣ ‘the monks [had] been from a poor, miserable place’ (31b5). +∎TchA tālo and B tallāw reflect a PTch *telā-w- or *tellā-w-. If the former case, the -ll- for -l- of the TchB word is on the analogy of the present stem of täl- ‘carry, bear; lift.’ If the latter, the simplification of the *-ll- sequence would be regular in TchA and the presence of *-ll- is the result of analogy to the present tense of the corresponding verb, but at a PTch date rather than in pre-Tocharian B. Given the s mantic distance of tallāw from the underlying verb täl- an earlier analogical influence of täl- on the derived adjective might be more likely than a later influence. (As if) from PIE *toleh_a-, a derived verbal noun from *tel- (cf. Greek -tolē in anatolē ‘east’) + the posessive suffix -w(e)nt- (for the phonological development of *-w(e)nt- in Tocharian, see Adams, 1988c:131). The etymology goes back to Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:163). See also VW: 496-497, though details differ. +See also VW: 496-497, though details differ. See also tallāñciśke*, tallārñe* and täl-. +

+ + +
+

+talle +See täl-. +

+ + +
+

+tavatriś +See tapatriś. +

+ + +
+

+tā +See se. +

+ + +
+

+tā- +(vt.) +‘place, set’ [keś tā- ‘consider, take into account,’ ñem tā- ‘name,’ N-mpa tā- ‘compare with’]
+(1) täs-/tättā-: Ps. II /täs^'ä/_e-/ [A // -, -, taseṃ; MP -, taṣtar, -// -, -, tsentär]; Ko. /tättā-/ [A -, -, tattaṃ// -, -, tattaṃ; MP -, -, tättātär// -, -, tättāntär; Inf. tättātsi]; Opt. /täccī-/ [MP taccimar, -, -//]; Ipv. III /pätes- ~ pätäs-/ [ASg. (p)tes. Pl. ptasso; MPSg. ptasar]; Pt. III /tes(sā)- ~ tässā- (sic)/ [A -, -, tessa// -, -, tesar; MP -, -, tässāte// -, -, tässānte]; PP /tättā-/; +
+(2) tās-: Ps. II /tās^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, tāṣtär//; MPImpf. -, -, taṣītär// -, -, taṣīyentär; APart. taṣeñca; MPPart. tasemane; Ger. taṣalle]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [A tāsau, -, tāṣäṃ/-, -, tasaitär/ -, -, tāseṃ; MP -, -, tāṣtär//; AOpt. -, -, tāṣi//; MPOpt. // -, -, taṣiyentär; Inf. tā(t)si]; Ipv. I /pättāsā-/ [MPPl. pättāsat]; Pt. Ib /tāsā-/ [MP tasāmai, tasātai, tasāte// -, -, tasānte]; PP /tātāsā-/. +yakṣāts ṣarnene taṣtar-ñ ‘thou hast placed me in the hands of yakṣas’ (84a1); mā ñiś kc=ālyek cot [lege: tot] nrai lkāsko [sic] wrocce kos krentäṃntsa tattaṃ nāki atākatte neṣamye ‘I see no other hell so great as if they lay reproach and untrue rumor on the good’ (17a6/7), k_use mā pästa tättāträ wase ‘who does not lay aside poison?’ (35b3), rse[rsa] tränkonta nke nakanm=ālyaucesa tättāntär māka ‘[if] out of hate many impute sins and moral failures on one another’ (27a6); [empalkaitte tākoym ṣpä śaul indrinta ke]k[t]s[e]ñän mā taccimar ‘may I be untormented and may I not consider life, senses, or bodies!’ [taccimar = keś taccimar] (S-8a5); /// pr[e]ntse yente käskan-me mant ṣañ śāmna keś ptes twe ‘in an instant the wind scatters them; so consider thine own people!’ (46a7); wnolmi tallāñco naksante ṣañ añm eroṣ pilko ank[aiṃ] ṣeyeṃ tesar ṣ nāki krentäṃtsa ‘suffering beings make themselves reproached; they have evoked false insight and lay blame on the good’ (17a6), prāp mahur āssa tässāte ‘he set the jewel-crown on his own head’ (109a5), [śānta] ñem tässānte ‘the sheep were named’ (349b5); paine epinkte tarne tättā_u ‘placing the crown of the head between [his] feet’ (361a7); tāṣtär pelaikne śaulanmasa käryau se [= k_use] ‘the law which he has bought with lives is established’ (G-Su1-c), [ā]ntpi päśne sā_u taṣītr ālīn[e] ‘she placed the palms of [her] hands on [her] breasts’ (84b5); tu epiyāc klormeṃ mā tasemāne rano = BHS tat saṃsmṛtya virūpe pi (251a3), kenämpa tasemane = BHS pṛthivīsadṛśo (PK-NS-107b3 [Thomas, 1976b:106]); mā ṣ keś [t]āsau ṣañ la[kle] ‘and I will not consider my own suffering’ (85a6), ///ktentse tskertkanempa tasaitär (74a5), śāmñana āsta taiysu kwrāṣäṃ ṣekaṃñe enepre tāṣträ ‘thus he places eternally human bones between a skeleton’ (559a5/b1), ṣaḍvarginta patraiṃ māka kraupiyenträ [] päst taṣīyeṃträ mā paribhog yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvargikas gathered many alms-bowls; [but] they laid [them] aside and made no use of them’ (337b4); [ṣañ] yāmornta pättasat (575a7); [ṣamāne]ntsa wawārp[au] grahanman[e] m[e]ñe ra ṣpäk tāsātai ‘thou hast placed thyself surrounded by monks as the moon [is surrounded] by the planets’ (221b1). +‣ Tā- is the traditional, if inaccurate, shape given to two lexical units in Tocharian B: (1) the suppletive täs-/tättā-, and (2) the durchkonjugiert tās- (cf. Normier, 1980:266). The two verbs are apparently identical in meaning, though we should point out that only tās- is attested, when joined with a noun in -mpa, with the meaning ‘compare with’ (lit. ‘set with’). + -- tättārmeṃ; +
+tättālñe, only in keś tättālñe ‘judgment’: śāmna[ṃ]ts śaul ṣai ṣkas-tmane pik_ula A[ra]nemiñ tākā [sic] keś tättālñe mäntarṣkeṃ [lege: -e] śaul śāmnats ñke ‘the life of men was 6,000 years [but] to king A. was this judgment: evil now [is] the life of men’ (3b1/2); +∎The complexity of this paradigm in TchB is mirrored in TchA. In the latter language we have tā- in the subjunctive (the abstract tālune), the optative (3rd. sg. tāwiṣ) and the preterite participle to. This tā- is the equivalent of TchB tättā-, shorn of its anomalous, from the Tocharian point of view, reduplication. (We should note that A tā- is to B tättā- as A yā- ‘travel’ is to B iyā- [< PIE *yiy(e)h_a-].) Further in TchA we find täs- together with tās- but, unlike in TchB, here they form a suppletive conjugation with tās^'ä/_a- (= B tās^'ä/_e-) as both present and subjunctive, an imperative ptas (= B ptes), and preterite (3rd. sg.) casäs (=̃> B tessa). +
+B tättā- and dereduplicated TchA tā- reflect PTch *tättā- from PIE *d^hid^h(e)h₁- [: Greek títhēmi ‘put, place,’ Sanskrit (with analogical vowel in reduplicated syllable) dádhāti ‘puts, places,’ probably the derived Hittite tittiya- ‘einsetzen, (Stadt) anlegen,’ tittanu- ‘einstellen, hinsetzen, einsetzen’ (the -tt- in these two Hittite verbs is something of a problem as one would expect *-t-), and the possibly reduplicated Lycian infinitive ttãne ‘to put, place’ (cf. the clearly unreduplicated variant tãne--the Lycian data is from Mopurgo-Davies, 1987:221); also (without reduplication) Old English dōn (1st. sg.) ‘do,’ OCS děti ‘to place, set; say,’ Lithuanian dėti ‘place, set,’ Latin -dere in ab-dere ‘take away,’ con-dere ‘build, found; establish,’ crē-dere ‘believe,’ Armenian dnem ‘set, place’ (as if < *d^heh₁-ne/o-), Hittite tēzzi ‘says,’ Lycian tadi ‘places, puts’ (< *d^heh₁ti; cf. Melchert's [1989:41]); with élargissements: Latin facere ‘do’ (< *d^hh₁-k-), Hittite dāi ‘places, sets’ (< *d^héh₁i-ei, cf. 1st. sg. tehhi < *d^héh₁i-h₂ei and 3rd. pl. tiyanzi < *d^hh₁y-énti [Jasanoff, 1979]), etc. (P:235-237; MA:472)]. Ever since Petersen (1933:17) AB tā- has been seen as a descendant of PIE *d^heh₁- ‘place, put’ (cf. VW:494-495). +
+More particularly, PTch *tättā- reflects a reduplicated present with a generalized zero-grade (cf. with the same generalization of the zero-grade in an athematic present yam ‘I go’ [A yäm], [as if] from < *h₁i-mi rather than the more original *h₁ei-mi). Thus, say, a 3rd. sg. middle *d^hid^hh₁-tó-r would regularly produce the attested TchB tättātär. As always the initial consonant of the reduplicating syllable in Tocharian agrees in palatalization or its lack with the initial consonant of the root. Except for the difference in enclitic particle, this tättātär matches Greek títhetai exactly (cf. also Sanskrit dhatté). The optative in B, täccī-, is directly from PIE *d^hid^hh₁-ih₁-. Thus the attested taccimar is more or less exactly equivalent to Greek titheímen or Sanskrit dadhyāma. (In Greek we see generalization of the stem vowel originally proper to the singular, e.g. 3rd. sg. titheíē [phonetically tithéyyē] from *d^hid^hh₁-yeh₁-t while in Sanskrit we see the generalization of the full-grade of the optative suffix, i.e. *-yeh₁- has replaced *-ih₁-.) This paradigm of subjunctive tättā- and optative täccī- is as archaic as anything in the Tocharian verbal system and fully as archaic (if not in certain respects more so) as anything found much earlier in Greek and Indic. +
+Ptch *täs- reflects an earlier *d^h_es- < *d^h-s- < *d^hh₁-s- with the same loss of interconsonantal *-h₁- we see in the Hittite iterative zikkizzi ‘he puts, places (again)’ from *d^h-sḱe-ti. We might also compare the Sanskrit 3rd. sg. middle dhatté which also shows loss of *-h₁- between consonants in this root. Presumably in täs- (< *d^h(h₁)s-) we have an old *-se/o- iterative which by PTch times had given rise to a complete indicative +
+PTch *tās- presumably reflects the same kind of generalized iterative paradigm seen in *täs- though built on the PTch stem *tā-. Typologically one might compare the Lycian (3rd. pl.) iterative tasñti which it would be possible to derive from PIE *d^hh₁-sḱo-nti (cf. B tāseṃ as if from PIE *d^hh₁-so-nti). However, such Lycian iteratives are very productive and are generally derived from the strong stem of a root if there is a difference between strong and weak. Thus Lycian tas- is likely to represent a virtual PIE *d^heh₁-sḱe/o- (Melchert, p.c.). In a variation on this, Normier (1980: 266) suggests that tās- is the dereduplicated equivalent of the Sanskrit desiderative didhiṣa- (< *d^hid^hh₁se/o-). However, the recency of its formation within Tocharian itself seems certain by reason of its independence from TchA tāsk- ‘id.’ (The latter a sḱe/o-iterative beside the se/o-iterative seen in tās-.) +See also tāsi. +

+ + +
+

+tāk- +See nes-. +

+ + +
+

+tāks- +(vt.) +‘± chop up, grind up’ (?)
+Ko. V /tāksā-/ [MPOpt. tāksoym, -, -//] +[śañ śa]rsa lykaśke tāksoym śaiṣṣ[e]ntse mithya[dṛṣṭi po] ‘with my own hand may I chop up fine all false insight in the world’ (85b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (642) suggests a borrowing from BHS takṣ- ‘fashion out of wood, make, create’ but the phonology (why not *-kṣ-?) and the difference in semantics both argue against it. However, it may be possible that we have tāksā- from *teksā- to a root *täks- from PIE *tekþ- (< earlier *tetḱ-) ‘± build, weave, hew’ [: Avestan tašaiti ‘builds, cuts, finishes,’ Latin texō ‘weave, entwine, put together,’ Lithuanian tašaũ ‘hew,’ etc. (P:1058-1059)] and thus tāksā- might be a cognate of Sanskrit takṣ-. The absence of clear examples of the Tocharian development of PIE "thorn" clusters leaves us without parallels. +

+ + +
+

+tājj +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+/// krunaṣṣe tājjä /// (624a4). +

+ + +
+

+tāte +See nāne. +

+ + +
+

+tāno +(nf.) +‘seed, grain’
+[tāno, -, tāna//tanāñ, -, -] +ywārtsa tāna kwäñcītṣai kwäñcit yarm wat ‘the measure of half a sesame-seed or a sesame-seed’ (41b4), uppāläṣṣana tanāñä ‘lotus seeds’ (ST-b2/3). + -- tanāṣṣe ‘prtng to grain or seed’ (W-40a5); +
+tanā-mot ‘± grain-alcohol’ or ‘beer’: su cpi mäsketrä tanā-mot ramt solme nukowa [lege: nukowä] (407a3/4); +
+tana-tanāmotäṣṣe* ‘prtng to tanā-mot’ (407a1). +∎From PIE *d^hoh_xneh_a- [: Sanskrit dhānāḥ (f.pl.) ‘grain,’ Khotanese dāna- (f.) ‘grain,’ Modern Persian dāna ‘id.’ Lithuanian dúona ‘bread’ (Mayrhofer, 1963:98; MA:237)] (Meillet, 1914:397, VW:497). Pârvulescu (1988:51) takes these words to be in origin derivatives of *d^heh₁-. The putative PIE *d^hoh₁neh_a- would have been ‘wealth, treasure’ from earlier ‘what is put, deposited.’ The semantic distance, however, is very great. +See also tanākko. +

+ + +
+

+tāpp- +(vt.) +‘eat’
+Ko. V /tāppā-/ [AOpt. // -, -, tāppoṃ] +tūsa tāppoṃ saim-wästi mai no nauta-ñ empelñe arañcäntse ‘thus the refugees might eat but the danger to my heart disappeared’ (271a2/3). +∎Etymology uncertain. It is obviously to be connected with TchA tāp(p)- ‘eat’ (part of a suppletive paradigm with śuwā-) and with it presupposes a PTch *tāppā- (as if) from PIE *To/aP-w-eh_a-. Extra-Tocharian connections are not absolutely certain. Fraenkel (1932:7, also VW:497) connects this word with Sanskrit dāpayati ‘shares,’ Latin daps ‘sacred banquet,’ Greek dapánē ‘expense,’ dáptō ‘break to pieces, consume, destroy,’ dapsalēs ‘abundant, splendid,’ Old Norse tafn ‘sacrificial animal,’ Armenian tawn ‘feast,’ Latin damnum ‘damage entailing liability (for restitution or reparation).’ As Benveniste has shown (1948-49) we have here the rather disparate remnants of a PIE term for the potlatch--the feast with an abundance of food, entailing great expense for the giver, ostentatious and given to maintain rank or prestige. It is possible that the Tocharian word belongs here if we can assume a semantic shift from *‘share in the feast’ to ‘eat’ but no very similar semantic specialization or identical morphological enlargement is known. +

+ + +
+

+Tārmarakṣite +(n.) +‘Dharmarakṣita’ (PN in graffito)
+[Tārmarakṣite, -, -//] +(G-Su39) +See also Dharmarakṣite. +

+ + +
+

+tārhkāṇe* +(n.) +‘tarkhan’ [Turkish title]
+[-, -, tārhkāṇeṃ//] +(289b5). +∎From Uyghur. +

+ + +
+

+tārśi* +(n.) +‘deception’
+[//-, -, tarśauna] +snai kuhākäṃñe snai tarśauna pelaiknene ṣemaikne ompostäṃ sparttāṃtsa sū pañäkte-käṣṣintse palsko yänmāṣṣeñca (558b1-3). + -- tārśītstse* ‘± deceptive’: tesa rmer kā kentsa tā_u lyaka lykäñ ce_u tārśī[cce] ‘why thus did he see on the earth this deceptive thief?’ (133b5). +∎TchA tārśoṃ and B tarśauna reflect PTch *tārś(y)eunā or *terś(y)āunā. That it is ultimately related to PIE *terk- ‘twist’ (see ²tärk-) seems obvious (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:164, VW:498), but the exact morphological connection remains a bit uncertain. (Hilmarsson [1988:38] starts from a PIE *torkih_a [nt. pl. or collective sg.] which gave *terśā to which the plural ending *-ūnā was added.) +

+ + +
+

+tārśai +‘?’
+tārśai okt ̇ ̇ mpai yuṣauwñe mā r ̇e/// (213a4). +

+ + +
+

+tāl +(n.) +‘fan-palm’ [Borassus flabelliformis Roxb. = B. flabellifer Linn.], only attested in the compound, tāl-stām*:
+[tā]l-stamats[e] piltam[pa tasemane] = BHS tālapatraṃ cīvaram (320a1). +∎From BHS tāla-. +

+ + +
+

+tālis +(n.) +‘Flacourtia jangomas (Lour.) Raeusch.’ = ‘F. cataphracta Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[tālis, -, -//] +(501a7). +∎From BHS tālīśa-. +

+ + +
+

+tāwak +See su. +

+ + +
+

+tāś +(n.) +‘± commander’
+[tāś, -, -//] +makte tāś ākṣa ‘the commander himself has announced [it]’ (LP-6a2). +∎The TchA plural tāśśi ‘chiefs, commanders’ and B tāś may reflect a PIE *tāgyu-. The nearest relative would seem to be Thessalian Greek tāgós ‘commander, ruler, chief’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:167, VW, 1941:137, 1976:499). The Thessalian tāgós must, in turn, be related to tássō (aor. stem tag-) ‘put in order, line up, arrange,’ tágma ‘ordinance, command, etc.’ In Indo-European terms the verb could represent *th_ag(-ye/o)- and the noun *toh_agyu- with the later substitution in Greek of the mildly productive -a ~ -ā- ablaut in place of the moribund -a ~ -ō-. Outside of Greek and Tocharian it would seem that we have the Nisa Parthian title tgmdr which Bailey (1985:98) takes to be tagma-dāra- ‘order-giver’ and Lithuanian *patogùs ‘convenient, comfortable’ and sutógti ‘get married; ally oneself’ (P:1055; MA:472). However, the semantic distance between Tocharian, Greek, and Iranian on the one hand and Baltic on the other is larger than one would like. +See also ywārt-taś and ṣle-taś. +

+ + +
+

+tāṣṣ- +See tāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+tās- +See tā-. +

+ + +
+

+tāsi* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘receptacle’
+[//-, -, tasanma] +śtwara tasanmane ite ite motä-yokaiṃ taṣalle ‘[one is] to set those thirsty for alcohol on four very full containers’ (M-3a4). +∎A nominal derivative of tās- (see s.v. tā-) as wāki is to wāk- and nāki is to nāk-. +

+ + +
+

+tāsk- +(vt.) +‘± tread on’
+Ko. V (?) /tāṣṣā-/ [Inf. tāṣṣatsi] +karpa no keṃntsa ṣäñ m[a]ts[i] reksa pūdñäktentse tāṣṣatsisa ‘he descended, however, to earth and spread out his own hair to be tread on by the Buddha’ (365a4). +‣The subjunctive stem is presumably analogical to that of the preterite, itself formed by adding -ā- to what was originally the third singular imperfect *tāṣṣä from *teh_a-sḱe-t. +∎Is this word at least the typological equivalent of Luwian taza- ‘continue to stand, remain’ (Mopurgo-Davies, 1987:213-214, for the meaning) from PIE *(s)teh₂-sḱe/o- (Melchert, 1987:198-201, for the development of PIE *-sḱḱ- to Luwian -z-) from *(s)teh₂- ‘stand’? The Tocharian and Anatolian words most probably are independent creations since in Tocharian it is eventive while in Anatolian it is stative or continuative. In any case, not with VW (499) from PIE *tōk-sḱe/o-, a derivative of *tek- ‘run, flow.’ See Adams, 1993b:37-38. +See also tāk- (s.v. nes-), ste/stare (s.v. nes-), and stäm- (s.v. käly-). +

+ + +
+

+täṃts- +(vt.) +‘scatter, disperse’
+Ps. IX /täntsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, taṃtsäṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. IX (= Ps.) [A -, -, taṃtsäṣṣäṃ// -, -, taṃtsäskeṃ] +mäkte tne lāñe nakṣäṃ sarmana taṃtsäṣṣäṃ pya[py]aiṃ kauṣäṃ okonta ‘as the flood here destroys seeds, scatters the flowers, and kills off fruits’ (33b7); ṣaiweññai ta[ṃ]tsäṣṣäṃ [] po duṣkär ‘[if] he scatters the seed (?); all [is] duṣkara’ (331a1), cey nke laitkeṃ kautaṃ pyapyaiṃ taṃtsäskeṃ ‘[if] they cut down the vines and scatter the flowers’ (589a3). +∎TchB täṃts- reflects a PTch *tän(ä)s- but extra-Tocharian cognates, if any, are unclear. VW (1962a:181, 1976: 501) suggests a connection with PIE *tens- ‘pull, tug’ [: Sanskrit taṃsayati ‘draws back and forth,’ Gothic at-þinsan ‘pull toward,’ OHG dinsan ‘pull, carry along,’ Lithuanian tę̃sti (tę̃siù) ‘continue, go along; stretch, lengthen; drag out, delay, put off,’ tąsýti (tąsaũ) ‘pull, tug; stretch, extend’ (P:1068-69; MA:187)]. However, the semantic connection does not seem very close. It is better to take täṃts- to reflect a PIE *d^hu-n-s-, a nasal infixed present to the root *d^heus- ‘fly about (like dust), powder, strew with dust.’ This *d^hu-n-s- (subjunctive *d^hwens-) appears in Sanskrit dhvaṃsati ‘decays, perishes, falls to dust,’ dhvasirá ‘dusty, sprinkled,’ OHG tunist ‘wind, storm, breath, dust,’ Old English dūst ‘dust’ (see P:268 for these and many other cognates without the infixed *-n-; MA:388). +See also perhaps to, tute, taur, and tweye. +

+ + +
+

+täk- +(vt.) +‘touch, feel with the hand; fetch, procure’
+Ps. II /cek^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, ceśäṃ// -, -, cekeṃ; APart. ceśeñca; Ger. ceśalle]; Ko. I /tek- ~ täk-/ [A -, -, tekäṃ//; AOpt. taśim, -, taśi// -, -, taśyeṃ]; Impv. III /(pä)tek-* ~(pä)täkā-/ [MPSg. takar]; Pt. IIIa /tek(sā)-/ [A -, -, teksa//] +ṣamānentse yśel[mi pä]lskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne [sic] tu kretswesa yaṣtär tune swāralyñe yamastär kr[ā]ke läṃ-nne sanghā-tränko kätänkaṃ kr_ui mā krāke laṃ-nne koss tu māka kretswesa ceśaṃ [sic] tot sttul[ā]ṃ-tränkonta kätänkäṃ ‘[if] desires arise in the mind of a monk and his shame-place [i.e. penis] stands tall and he stimulates it with a rag, and thus he makes pleasure for himself and [if] filth emerges, he commits a sanghā-sin; [but] if no filth emerges no matter how much he touches it with a rag, so he commits stulāna-sins’ (334b2-6), wär śār parsnān tesa ceken-ne ṣärsa ‘they sprinkle water all over; then they touch it (him?) with the hand’ (121a6); /// tarya wsen[ta] taśim-me ‘may I touch/procure three poisons’ (355a5), pelaikne kektsentsa no taśi = BHS dharmaṃ kāyena vai spṛśet (305b5), kosauk srukalyñeṣṣ=īme ma taśi-ne tot ma mrauskate ‘as long as the thought of death did not touch him, so long did he not grow weary of the world’ (K-11b2); /// [Vaiśra]vaṇ[e wa]lo weṣṣäṃ täkār täkār [] tän[e] /// (PK-12G-a1 [Thomas, 1979:9]); su no orotse kektsentsa antapi kenīsa keṃ teksa ‘however, the great one by [his] body touched the ground with [his] knees’ (HMR-2a5). + -- takälñe ‘touch’: takälñe ... takälñentse [= BHS sparśa-] (156b3), kartse lkātsine takälñene ṣpä wlaiśke yetse ‘in seeing good and in touching the soft skin’ (K-10a2); +
+tetekor ‘± touch’; +
+tetekorṣṣe ‘± prtng to touch’: ytariṣṣe tetekorṣṣe ṣpä palskalñe ṣarpi (511b3). +∎TchB täk- reflects PTch *täk- whose nearest extra-Tocharian cognates are Germanic, notably Gothic tēkan ‘touch’ and Old Norse taka ‘take’ (whence English take). It is particularly noteworthy that the long-grade thematic present formation (like those seen in klyaus-, klep- or tänk-, qq.v.) of TchB is exactly matched by Gothic tēkan and the (PIE) o-grade present (Tocharian subjunctive) is exactly matched by Old Norse taka. Projected into PIE we would have *dēg- and *dog- (whose initial and final mediae violate our expectations of PIE root structure constraints) (MA:595). +
+Further connections are more difficult. Semantically it would be natural to connect these Tocharian and Germanic word with the isolated Greek aorist participle tetagōn ‘having taken,’ its Latin relative tangō ‘touch’ (whose perfect, tetigī, would appear to be the exact formal equivalent of Greek tetag- despite the latter's being an aorist), Old Low German thakolōn ‘stroke,’ and Old English þaccian (with expressive gemination?) ‘stroke gently, clap on the back.’ However, this latter group of words reflects a PIE *tag- whose initial consonant does not match that required by Germanic tēkan/taka and whose vowel does not match that of Tocharian täk-/tek-/cek- (*tag- should give **tāk-). +
+Hamp (p.c.) suggest that the Latin, Tocharian, and Germanic forms might all be put together as *teg-. The Latin -a- originates like the -a- in quattuor in an old zero-grade *tg-. The same zero-grade, only with assimilation to *dg- lies behind the Germanic forms tēkan/taka. This explanation does not account for the Greek -a- and is difficult, in having to posit a zero-grade *tg- which one would expect to have been blocked by a general PIE phonological constraint. However, the desire to group all these together is an understandable one. Ringe (1988-90:1-05-115) argues that the Germanic-Tocharian resemblance is due to borrowing, but that who borrowed from whom is impossible to decide. Earlier discussion of some portion or other of this etymology are Meillet, 1914:19, Lane, 1959:160, VW:504-5. +See also teki. +

+ + +
+

+tänk- +(vt.) +‘check, stop’
+G Ps. II /cenk^'ä/_e-/ [A // -, -, cenkeṃ; MP -, -, ceṃśtär//]; Ko. I /*tenk- ~ tänk-/ [AOpt. -, -, tañci//; Inf. tanktsi]; +
+K Ps. VIIIb /tänks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, tankṣäṃ//] +mā=psāl mā māskwo srūkalñe [ce] ceṃśträ ‘neither sword nor obstruction hinders this death’ (45b4/5), /// no cenkeṃ mäntaññeṃ krent ṣamāññe ‘they hinder and destroy, however, good monasticism’ (H-149-ADD.113b1 [Thomas, 1972b: 459]); mäkte camcer enkalntse warkṣäl taṅtsi ‘how could you check the energy of suffering?’ (9a2), ma nta ksa campya srūkalñe taṅt[s]i ‘nothing could ever stop death’ (46b3), toy śak pāytinta ekaññeṣṣe śaulaṣṣe ñātse tanktsiś stare ‘these ten prohibitions are to check the danger of possessions and life’ (330a4); /// prakār vairāk tankṣäṃ (198b4). +∎AB tänk- reflect PTch *tänk-, probably from PIE *teng^h- ‘pull back’ [: OCS *tęgnǫti ‘pull,’ ras-tęgnǫti ‘distrahere,’ Lithuanian tingùs ‘lazy,’ tingėti (tìngiu) ‘be lazy,’ Old Norse þungr ‘heavy,’ þyngia ‘load down’ (P:1067; MA:264)] (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:179, VW, 1941:135, 1976:502). The present cenk^'ä/_e- is a vṛddhied present such as is seen in klyaus- or klep-, qq.v. +See also etankätte and täṅtsi. +

+ + +
+

+tänkw-aññ- +(vt.) +‘love’
+Ps. XII /tänkwäññ^'ä/_e-]/ [AImpf. -, tänkwaññit, -//; APart. tänkwaññeñca]; Ko. XII (= Ps.) [A -, -, tänkwat, tänkwaṃ//; Inf. tänkwantsi]; Ipv. V /pätänkwäññ-/ [Sg. ptänkwaññe] +kenantse saswe ṣayt [sic] tänkwaññet [lege: -ññit] wnolmeṃ ‘thou wert lord of the earth and thou didst love beings’ (297.1b3), se kartseś po wnolmets täṅwaññeñca ṣek ‘he [is] always loving to all beings for [their] good’ [täṅwaññeñca = BHS anukampin-] (29a4); [po śaiṣṣe twe] täṅwät k_uce ṣäp k_use ci täṅwä[ṃ] ‘thou dost love the whole world, let alone [him] who loves thee’ (245b2), śaiṣṣe täṅwantsiśc ślokne ṣerpsa ce arthä ‘for the love of the world he explained this meaning in a śloka’ (K-3b1); ptäṅwäññe ṣäñ śamñeṣṣe /// (515b6). + -- tänkwalyñe* ‘± mercy, love’: /// täṅwalñ[e]sa śak-wi pakenta /// (149a1), mā [tu] onolmenne tänkwalyñentse (307a7). +∎A denominative verb from tankw, q.v., (as if) from PIE *tṇkwṇ-ye/o- to the verbal noun *tṇk-wṇ. +

+ + +
+

+tänktsi +(postposition) +‘up to; including, even’ [NOUN-meṃ ... NOUN tänktsi ‘from ... to’]
+ṣäṃṣalñe ṣe wī trai śtwer piś śak täṅtsi ‘[this is] counting: one, two, three, four, five, up to ten’ (41a8), kr[e]nta śwatsanma kanti tänktsi ‘good foods, even bread’ (375b5), seṃ p_iśākka-ṣe cakanma ok taum yap pinkce ikäṃ-ṣe tänktsi śawāte ‘this 51 cāks and eight trau millet was eaten [from] the fifth to the 21st’ (461a3), tärnemeṃ paine täṅtsi ‘from crown of the head to the feet’ (H-149.44b4 [Thomas, 1954:750]), ṣamāne ... kauṃ-yaptsi täṅtsi aśiyana enästrä pāyti ‘[if] a monk instructs nuns till dawn, pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-a3 [Pinault, 1984b:376]). +∎Historically the infinitive of tänk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tänkwaññäññe +See tankw. +

+ + +
+

+tätik +(n.) +the name of a salve
+[tätik, -, -//] +(P-3a7). +

+ + +
+

+tätkwañceṃ +‘?’
+///n tätkwañceṃ (A-3a4) +

+ + +
+

+tätt- +See tā-. +

+ + +
+

+tän- +See tanalle. +

+ + +
+

+tänyamāṣ +See dhanyamās. +

+ + +
+

+täp- +(vt.) +‘± announce, proclaim’
+Ps. IXb /täpäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, tpastär//]; Ipv. II /päccäpā-/ [Sg. päccapa]; Pt. IV /täpäṣṣā-/ [A -, -, tapäṣṣa//]: (405b7). +wek[ts]e päccapa piś toṃ ślokanma pudñäkt[entse] ‘announce loudly these five ślokas of the Buddha!’ (16a3). +‣One might note the TchA equivalent täp- also occurs in a very limited number of places. Perhaps the clearest is at 66b2 wäl āmāśās kākkropuräṣ cesmäk ārtaśśi anaprä ypeyaṃ tpässi wotäk ‘the king, having assembled his ministers, ordered them to announce before the suitors’ [then follows the text of the announcement]. At 359a26 we have cac[pu]/// = BHS vighuṣṭa- ‘cried or proclaimed abroad.’ An imperative occurs at 345b5 pritwäs ptāñäkte enäṣluneyaṃ [|] ptäpsäs wlalune///. +∎[]AB täp- reflect PTch *täp- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. It may be from PIE *d^(h)eup- ‘± resound loudly’ [: Latvian dupêtiês ‘resound heavily,’ Serbian dupiti ‘strike (of noise)’ (P:221-222; MA:534)] (VW, 1941:502, 1976:502). On the other hand, Normier (1980:260) suggests a derivation from PIE *(s)tub^h- ‘praise’ [: Sanskrit stóbhati ‘utters a joyful sound, shouts in praise,’ stobhayati ‘praise in successive exclamations, celebrate,’ Armenian t`ovel (if < *toub^heye/o-) ‘sing songs’]. However, the Armenian -o- is not a regular match for PIE *-ou-. It may be that the Tocharian and Armenian words can be grouped together as *teb^h-. If so, there may be an inner-Tocharian cognate in TchB tep, q.v. Finally, it may be the causative verb corresponding to TchA täp- ‘be(come) high.’ The meaning would them be a narrowing from ‘make high’ or the like. It might even be that PIE *d^heup- ‘resound heavily,’ found in Balto-Slavic, and *dheub- ‘deep,’ found elsewhere, are root variants like *peiḱ- and *peiǵ-. +See also perhaps tapre or perhaps tep. +

+ + +
+

+täprauñe +See tapre. +

+ + +
+

+täm- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be born’; K ‘beget, engender, produce’
+G Ps. Xa /tänmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, tänmastar, tänmastär// -, -, tänmaskentär; MPPart. tänmaskemane; Ger. tänmaṣṣälle, cmalle]; Ko. III /cäme-/ [MP // cmemar, cmetar, cmetär// -, -, cmentär; MPOpt. cmīmar, -, cmītär//; Inf. cmetsi; Ger. cmelle]; Pt. IIIa /tem(sā)-/ [MP temtsamai, -, temtsate// temtsamte, -, temtsante]; PP /tetemu-/; +
+K Ps. Xb /tänmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, tanmäṣṣäṃ// -, -, tanmäskeṃ; MP -, -, tanmästär//; APart. tanmäṣṣeñca]; Ko. Xb (= Ps.) [Inf. tanmästsi]; PP /tetänmäṣṣu-/ +kärstau rano stām tākaṃ nano wtentse tänma[strä] ‘even [if] a tree is cut down, it will be born again’ [tänmasträ = BHS jāyate] (11a6), āyorsa śāte yñakteṃ yśāmna su tänmasträ ‘rich by [his] gift, he is [re-]born among gods and men’ (23b4/5), [ā]ntpi nraine t_änmaskenträ ‘both are [re-]born in hell’ (16b7), täṃmäṣle [sic] srukallesa ‘by birth and death’ (142b3), cmäl[le] /// (146b6), cmalye yapo[yne] ‘in the country [where one is] to be born’ (424a3); mant källauṣṣi yelyi cmentär ontsoytñeṣṣe pīlene ‘so the worms of [desire for] profit are born in this world of insatiability’ (33b1), k_use tne cmīträ mā srūko[y] ‘whoever might be [re-]born here should never die’ (46b2), cmelle = BHS jāti- (U-2a3); sw [a]śrāddhe sruka= ntweṃ nrain=empelye temtsate ‘the unbeliever dies and immediately was [re-]born in a terrible hell’ (4a6); ywārc srukenträ tetemoṣ kā [lege: ka] ‘they die in mid-life, scarcely born’ (1a7=2a1), tetemoṣepi = BHS jātasya (16a5); takarṣkñe no ṣarm okone perākñe tanmṣäṃ [sic] ‘faith produces belief in cause and effect’ (23a5), ñās tanmästä[r] = BHS cchandaṃ janayati (537b2), tanmäṣṣeñcai pelaikn[e] ‘producing the law’ (TEB-59-29); ṣamāññene larauñe tanmästsiś[c]o ‘to produce love of monasticism’ (12b6); śtwāra mahābhūtänta śtwāra mahābhūtäntaṃts tetanmäṣṣuwa (192b1/2). + -- cmelñe ‘birth, act of being born’: serke cmelñe srukalñents= eṃṣketse nautalñe yāmtsi [cmelñe = BHS jāti] (30a3), [nesa]lyñentse ṣärmameṃ camel cmel[ñentse ṣärma]meṃ ktsaitsäññ[e] ‘because of being [there is] birth; because of being born [there is] old-age’ (149b1), [c]melñe = BHS jātaka (547a6), cme[lñe] = BHS -bhavaṃ (PK-NS-306/305b5 [Couvreur, 1970:177]); +
+cmelñeṣṣe ‘prtng to birth’: cmelñeṣṣai katkauwñai ‘the joy of birth’ (155b5); +
+cmelñetstse* ‘having birth,’ in the compound: snai-cmelñetstse ‘one without birth’: (188b2). +∎AB täm- reflect PTch *täm- but extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. At one time or another PTch *täm- has been connected with PIE *tem- ‘cut’ (Pedersen, 1941:189), *dem- ‘build’ (Smith, 1910:17, Pedersen, 1944:21 [*dem- is clearly the ancestor of AB tsäm- ‘grow, increase,’ q.v.]), or *d^heh₁- ‘place, put’ (Lane, 1945:19), more particularly an otherwise unattested byform of the latter, *d^hem- (Winter, 1962:27 [cf. *stem-, ancestor of AB stäm- ‘stand,’ beside *steh₂-]). None of these explanations is particularly compelling from either the semantic or morphological point of view. VW (500-501) rightly remains agnostic. Perhaps the phonological, morphological, and semantic considerations are best answered by connecting Tocharian täm- with PIE *tem- ‘arrive’ otherwise seen only in Greek témei ‘arrives, reaches’ (a hapax leg. in Homer) and its reduplicated aorist tetmeîn (MA:35). That tem- is old in the history of Greek seems assured by the presence of a reduplicated aorist, a moribund type in the oldest attested Greek, and not one at all likely to be built analogically to a new verbal root. PIE *tem- ‘arrive’ would be the telic counterpart of atelic *g^wem- ‘come.’ The latter of course has become the term for ‘be born’ in Baltic [: Lithuanian gemù]. PTch *cäm^'ä/_e- would be the exact equivalent of Greek téme/o-, while the nasal present of both A and B would be a PTch innovation, like the nasal present to *k^wäm- ‘come.’ +See also tanmaṣṣuki, camel, temeñ, and atāmo. +

+ + +
+

+tär- +(vt.) +‘± plead, implore’ (?)
+Ps. Xa /tärräsk^'ä/_e-/ [MPPart. tärraskemane] +ylāre kaklautkau tärraskemane rekisa Uttareṃ m[ñcuṣ]k[e]ṃ [weṣṣäṃ] ‘he turned flaccid [= he swooned] and with pleading word he speaks to prince Uttara’ (85a3). +∎The closest relative of B tär- is, as Melchert points out (p.c.), Hittite tariyanu- ‘entreat, implore.’ This word is ultimately identical with another Hittite tariyanu- ‘cause to exert; exhaust oneself.’ Both meanings are semantic specializations of an earlier ‘pester, importune, worry [as a dog does a bone].’ Both Hittite tariyanu and pre-Tch *tärnā- are derivatives of PIE *ter- ‘± speak’ seen otherwise in Hittite tar- ‘speak’ and Lithuanian tar̃ti ‘say, speak’ (P:1088-1089; MA:535). +

+ + +
+

+tärk-¹ +(vt.) +‘let go; let, allow; emit, utter; give up; stop, desist [+ inf.]’ [cowai tärk- ‘rob,’ ārtte tärk- ‘neglect,’ eweta tärk- ‘set to fighting’]
+Ps. VI /tärkänā-/ [A tärkanau, tärkanat, tärkanaṃ// -, tärkanacer, tärkanaṃ; AImpf. tärkanoym, -, tärkanoy//; MPPart. tärknāmane; Ger. tärkanalle]; Ko. V /tārkā ~ tärkā-/ [A tārkau, -, tārkaṃ// tarkam, -, tarkacer, -; AOpt. tarkoym, -, tarkoy// -, -, tarkoṃ; Inf. tarkatsi; Ger. tarkalle]; Ipv. I /pätārkā- ~ pätärkā-/ [Sg. (p)tārka; Pl. ptarkaso]; Pt. Ia /cärkā- ~ tärkā-/ [A cärkāwa, cärkāsta, carka// -, -, cärkāre; MP -, -, tärkāte// -, -, tärkānte]; PP /tärko-/ +yokye-kleś mā tärknan-ne klaiksatsi nta ‘the thirst-kleśa never lets [it] wither’ (11b3), [mā ṣpä tä]rkoṣne [= BHS mukte] tarkoy [= BHS pramuñcet] [n]o cau tär[k]nāmane [= BHS muñcamāno] śanmästrä mā no mäntrākka klyomoṃ tärkanaṃ [= BHS pramuñcanti] tärkauw [= BHS muktā] tākaṃ aknātsa[ntsa] ‘having uttered [an evil word], one should not utter [it again]; the one having emitted it is bound; [for] the noble ones do not emit [such and think]: it will be emitted by fools’ (19b8), [c]owai tärknaṃ cowaicce | cowai tärkauca cowai tärkau mäske[tär] ‘he robs the robber; the robber becomes the robbed’ (22a3), saṃvar ṣamāññe āśäṃ ostw-ostä tärknaṃ aklyilñe śak-wi klautkeṃtsa ‘he leads monkish propriety from house to house and gives up the study of the twelve ways’ (33b2), ṣañ wrat lau tärkanacer ‘you release your own vow[s] far’ (108a7), kaṣake Puttamitre parra yaṃ [] caumpa śāmna ikäṃ [] kercapaṃ trey [] yakwe ṣe [] te parra tārka [] tentsa auṣap mā tärkanat ‘the Kashgarian. P. goes through; with him 20 men, three asses, one horse; let through this [group]; more than this do not let [through]’ (LP-1a2/6), sū naumīye päst [t]ärkanalle ‘he [is] to give back the jewel’ (337a3/4); spelke mai tarkacer k_ulātsi ‘may you not suffer [your] zeal to fail’ (28a1), mā wer śono wṣi-ñä nta tarkoym tranko ‘may hate and enmity not dwell in me! may I let go of/forgive sin!’ (S-4b3), kreṃt tarkoy reki mantanta tarko[y yo]lain reki ‘may he utter a good word and never utter an evil word!’ (19b3), weñmo ptāka-ñ onolmeṃ[ts ta]rko-ñ tranko ‘be my advocate to beings! may they release my sin!’ (TEB-64-03), kete no āñme wī aulareṃ eweta tarkatsi ‘to whomever [is] the wish, however, to set to fighting two companions’ (M-3a7); mā r=asānmeṃ laitalñe ceṃ sklok ptārka pälskomeṃ ‘nor [is] there a falling from the throne; release this doubt from [thy] spirit!’ (5a5), triśalñenta po wnolmets ārte tārka [sic] ‘be indifferent to the errors of all beings’ (296a2), tanaulykaṃ ramt sekwetse pīle ra ptark[aso] /// ‘leave the suppurating wound [you're flying around] like flies!’ (48a5); ñäś tallā_u wnolme pw=āllonkna cärkāw=ārtte wäntarwa ‘I, a miserable being, neglected all the affairs [of the world]’ (45a2), [ysā-yo]kñana swañcaiyno po kälymintsa cärkāsta maiytarṣṣana ‘thou didst release the golden rays of friendship everywhere’ (221a5), [m]ewīyai tärkānte ‘they released [their] tiger’ (423a4); rerīnu saṃvar tärkau ṣamāññe snai līpä[r] ‘having renounced the zeal, having let go of monasticism without anything left over’ (44b6). + -- tärkormeṃ: po larenäṃ tärkormeṃ twe ñi lare añmaṣṣe ‘having left all loved [ones] thou [art] dear to my soul’ (241b4); +
+tarkalñe ‘± release’: ārte tarkalyñe ‘neglect’ (102a6), tarkalñe = BHS utsedha- (Y-3a5). +∎AB tärk- reflect PTch *tärk- from PIE *TerK- seen elsewhere only in Hittite tarna- ‘let, release, permit’ (< *tarkna- with the same simplification of cluster seen in harmi (*harkmi, root hark- ‘have, hold’). This etymology goes back to Benveniste (1932:142, also VW:503). Neither the Tocharian nor the Hittite side of the equation allows us to know the nature of the two obstruents of this root (MA:481). Pokorny (1959:258) suggests that this Hittite-Tocharian correspondence is another reflex of his *d^hereǵ^h- ‘twist, wind’ but the semantic connection is not compelling. +See also tärkauca and tarkāñe. +

+ + +
+

+tärk-² +(vt.) +‘± twist around; work (e.g. wood)’
+PP /tetärku-/ +pässaksa pässakṣṣe palīsa wat oppiloṃcceṃ tetarkuwa wat = BHS [mālāguṇaparikṣiptā api] [for the reconstruction of this line, see s.v. oppīloṃ] (542a4). +‣The derived nomen agentis, tärkāttsa, presupposes a Class V subjunctive /tārkā- ~ *tärkā-/. +∎TchB ²tärk- reflects a PTch *tärk- from PIE *terk^(w)- ‘twist’ [: Sanskrit tarkú- ‘spindle,’ tarkayati ‘conjectures, guesses, speculates about,’ Greek átraktos (m./f.) ‘spindle; arrow,’ atrekēs ‘strict, precise, exact’ (< *‘what is not twisted’), Albanian tjerr ‘spin’ (< *térknō; PIE *-e- should have given Albanian -ja- in a closed syllable as here but -je- has been restored on the model of other verbs), Latin torqueō ‘twist, wind; hurl violently; torment’ (< *tṛk-w-eye/o-), OCS trakъ ‘bond, girdle,’ TchA tark ‘earring,’ Hittite tarku(wa)- ‘dance (in a twisting manner)’ whose infinitive is tarkuwanzi from *terk^w- rather than *tarkumanzi from *terk-w- (cf. P:1077; MA:572; Hittite from Melchert, p.c.)] (VW:503; see also VW, 1977a:147-148). +See also tarkāttsa, carke, and possibly tarśauna. +

+ + +
+

+tärkaṭuka +(n.) +‘the three species (i.e. black pepper, long pepper, and dry ginger)’ (a medical ingredient)
+[tärkaṭuka, -, -//] +(P-3a6). +∎From BHS trikaṭuka-. +

+ + +
+

+tärkauca +(n.) +‘one who releases’
+[tärkauca, -, tärkaucai (voc. tärkaucai)//tärkaucañ, -, -] +cowai tärkauca = BHS vilopta- (22a3), saswa ... po tränkonta tärkaucai ‘O lord, releaser/ forgiver of all sins!’ (TEB-64-03). +∎A nomen agentis from the subjunctive stem of ¹tärk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Tärtvisara* +(n.) +‘Tärtvisara’ (PN in caravan passes)
+[-, -, Tärtvisarantse, -//] +(LP-30b1). +

+ + +
+

+täryāka +(number) +‘thirty’
+wace meṃne Puñaiyśe aṣkār lac payka [sic] täryāka tuntse te ṣotri (G-Su26). + -- täryāka-wi ‘thirty-two’: lkāntar-c [sic] kektsenne täryāka-wī lakṣānänta ‘the thirty-two lakṣanas are seen on thy body’ (76b5); +
+täryāka-ṣkas ‘thirty-six’: = BHS ṣaṭtriṃśati (16a8); +
+täryāka-ṣukt ‘thirty-seven’ (212b2). +∎TchA taryāk and B täryāka reflect PTch *täryākā. The vowel of the first syllable of the A form is analogical after that of śtwarāk ‘forty’ (cf. Ptch *treyä ‘three’ whose first vowel is analogical after *ś(ä)twerä ‘four’). PTch *täryākā comes ultimately from a PIE undeclinable *trih_a-(d)ḱomt ‘thirty’ (cf. kante ‘100’ from*-(d)ḱṃtóm). In pre-Tocharian PIE *trih_a- was reformed to *trieh_a on the basis of the underlying numeral *trieh_a (> tarya ‘three’ [f.pl.]). PIE *trieh_a-(d)ḱomt would regularly have given PTch *täryāke but at some point in its development *-omt fell together with *-om, the ending of the nom.-acc. of the thematic neuter. This apparently singular ending was felt to be anomalous in decade numbers and was replaced by the regular PTch neuter plural *-ā (PIE *-eh_a), hence *täryākā (cf. Pedersen, 1941:225, VW:494, where the details are almost completely different, and Winter, 1991:118). +See also trai. +

+ + +
+

+tärrek +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘blind’; (b) ‘blind person’
+[tärrek, tärrekäntse, -//] +(a) tūsa tärrek tänmasträ ṣek ṣek sū nervāṃ mā lkāṣṣäṃ ‘thus he is born blind and does not ever see nirvana’ (291b1), tärrek murcä tanki snaittu ra [tärrek = BHS -andhya-] (ST-b5); +
+(b) mäkte tärrek eṅwe yesti nāskoy enersänk ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘as a blind man was eating [his] meal and, letting it fall carelessly, it burned up in the maternal hearth’ (154b3), [tete]moṣepi tänki tärrekäntse trāpalle ra yāmornta [] tatrāppaṣepi klāyalñe ra śäktālye ‘a tripping by a man fully blind from birth [is] like deeds; the falling of one tripping [is] like the seed’ (PK-NS-53b3/4 [Pinault, 1988:101]). +∎TchA trak and B tärrek reflect PTch *tärrek (the simplification of the geminate would be regular in TchA). As VW has seen (510-511), we must have here an old compound whose second member is ek- ‘eye.’ As the first member he suggests a *tṛ-no- a derivative of *(s)terh₁- ‘be fixed’ [: Greek stereós ‘fixed, firm, hard,’ and especially the family of German starr ‘stiff, motionless’: Star ‘cataract,’ Old English starian ‘stare’ (i.e. ‘look fixedly’), stär(e)blind ‘blind from a cataract,’ stiern ‘stern,’ OHG stornēn ‘be stupified’ (P:1022; MA:547)]. +

+ + +
+

+tärretstse* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: //tärrecci, -, -] +///sa tärrecci /// (265a4). +

+ + +
+

+tärvärta +(n.) +‘Ipomoea turpethum’ (a medical ingredient)
+[tärvärta, -, -//] +(P-3b4). +∎From BHS tṛvṛtā- +

+ + +
+

+täl- +(vt.) +G ‘uphold, keep raised’; K ‘raise, lift; acquire’
+G Ps. VI /tällā-/ (active) ~ /tälänā-/ (middle) [A -, -, tallaṃ// -, -, tallaṃ; MP -, -, tlanatär// -, -, tlanantär]; Ko. V /tälā-/ (see gerund below); Ipv. VI [Sg. pätälle] (see below); Pt. Ia /tälā-/ [A tlāwa, -, -//]; +
+K Ps./Ko. IXb /täl(l)äsk^'ä/_e-/ [A taläskau, -, tal(l)äṣṣäṃ//; MP -, -, tallästär//; MPImpf. taläṣṣim, -, taläṣṣi//]; Ko. IXb /täl(l)äsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, taläṣṣäṃ//; AOpt. -, -, tal(l)äṣṣi//]; Pt. II /cālā-/ [A cālawa, -, cāla//]; PP /ceccälu-/ +cai tne mā tallaṃ perpett[e] ‘they do not bear the burden’ (44b2), kr_ui [kreñc o]nolmi tällān-ne onkolma ra śeruweṃ ‘if good creatures bear it as the she-elephant [does] the hunter’ (255a6/7), [mā] tlanatär-ñ pe[rpette] ‘the burden is not borne by me’ (17a2); /// tlava [?] (584a9); | ṣeme ṣarsa ñiś kauc taläs[k]au /// ‘with one hand I raise ... high’ (371b5), ///sa tälle tälläṣṣäṃ (514a9), /// kca sa kca tälle tällästrä (389b4), /// ce ñäś vājrä taläṣṣi[m] ‘I raised the thunderbolt’ (387.1a), [yolo yamaṣ]ṣeñcantse yolain oko kauc pokaine taläṣṣī-ne ‘he raised the evil fruit of evil-doing high on [his] arm’ (522b2); k_use ṣamāne ṣañ ṣarsa naumi[ye ta]läṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk picks up/acquires a jewel with his own hand’ (337a1), känte pikwala epinkte kaccap su no tälaṣṣi [sic] aśco ‘[after an] interval of 100 years the tortoise would lift [his] head’ (407b1); /// perpecce ñiś cālawa ‘I bore the burden’ (401b5), Nānda cāla onkorñai ‘N. lifted the porridge’ (107a7), /// cāla piś cakaṃnma ‘he carried five cāks’ (459a7); ceclu ṣar kauc pernento ytāri klyomñai aksasto ‘raising [thy] hand high thou didst point out the noble and glorious way’ (204a4/b1). +‣The preterite of the "causative" is also used as the preterite of the Grundverb. + -- talle (< *talalle) ‘± load, burden’: /// kca sa kca tälle tällästrä (389b4), ///sa tälle tälläṣṣäṃ (514a9), tusāksa ñäke täle ptälle-ñä ‘in just such a manner now lift my burden!’ (PK-12D-a5 [Thomas, 1979:43]). +
+ceccalor ‘lifting, raising’: tane brāhmaṇi kerciyeṃne yaipormeṃ poñc ṣar koś [sic] ceccalorsa ka lānte yarke yamaskeṃ ‘then the brahmans having entered into the palace, with their hands lifted high, they do honor to the king’ (81b5/6). +∎AB täl- reflect PTch *täl- from PIE *telh_a- ‘lift, carry’ [: Sanskrit tulayati ‘raises up, weighs’ (cf. tulā- ‘weight’), Greek tlẽnai ‘bear,’ Venetian tolar ‘brings there,’ Latin tollō ‘raise up’ (< *tḷneh_a-), Middle Irish tlenaim ‘steals’ (rebuilt from expected *tallaid < *tḷneh_a- [Hamp, p.c.]), Gothic þulan ‘bear, suffer,’ Latvian iztilt ‘bears,’ etc. (P:1060-1061; MA:352)] (Schulze, 1924, VW:500). The Tocharian present formation (PTch *tälnā-) matches exactly that of Latin and Celtic. +See also tallāw and possibly calle and täl(l)aikantsa*. +

+ + +
+

+täl(l)aikantsa* +(n.) +‘± bearers’ (?)
+[//-, täl(l)aikantsaṃts, -] +/// klese masa tarya tom tälaikantsaṃs yikṣye wasto /// (444a2), ikäṃ-ñu-ne piś tällaik[a]nts[aṃts] tlaiyta [lege: klaiyna] /// (484a2). +‣The meaning is suggested on the basis of a possible relationship with täl-. +

+ + +
+

+tälp- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be emptied, purged’; ¹K ‘purge, drain’; ²K ‘let flow out’
+G Ko. V /tälpā-/ (see gerund ff.); +
+¹K Ko. I/II /tälp(^'ä/_e)-/ [Inf. talptsi]; +
+²K Ps. IX /tälpäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. talpäṣṣeñca] +ankainsa yāmtsi aiṣle talptsisa ṣpä ‘[it is] to be given to cause vomiting and purging’ (P-1b5/6); lkālñesa ārttalñe talpäṣṣeñca tāka ‘through seeing [it] he became one causing love to flow’ (107a4). + -- tälpālle (n.) ‘purgative’: tälpāllesa yamaṣle ‘[it is] administered by a purgative’ [tälpāllesa = BHS virecanaṃ] (ST-b4), curmpa rittäṣle tälpāllesa ‘[it is] to be bound/mixed with powder and [is] to be given by means of a purgative’ [tälpāllesa = BHS virecana-] (Y-2a1/2). +∎TchB tälp- reflects PTch *tälp- from PIE *telp- ‘± be room for, make room for’ [: Lithuanian til̃pti (telpù) ‘find or have room enough; enter,’ talpà ‘capacity, holding power,’ talpìnti ‘put in, place in; house, lodge,’ tìlpinti ‘make room for,’ ištil̃pti ‘make one self free,’ OCS tlъpa ‘heap, troop, group,’ Sanskrit tálpa- (m.) or tálpā- (f.) ‘bed, resting place,’ Old Irish -tella, (analogical) talla (< *telpnā-) ‘find room’ (P:1062; MA:534)] (VW:500). +See also possibly tsälp-. +

+ + +
+

+tikṣne +(n.) +‘± zealot, ascetic’
+[tikṣne, -, -//] +(296b3). +∎From BHS tīkṣṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+tīkṣnendri +(adj.) +‘having sharp senses’
+[tikṣnendri, -, -//-, tikṣnendriyeṃts, -] +(41a5). +∎From BHS tīkṣṇendriya-. +

+ + +
+

+tin- +(vi.) +‘be dirty’
+Ps. IXa /tinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [AImpf. -, -, tinaṣṣi//]; Ko. V /tinā-/ [MP // -, -, tināntär] +/// brāhmapna [lege: brāhma[ṇeṃnp]a (sic)] tinaṣṣi ‘he befouled himself with the brahmans’ (374.b); k_use cai tallāñc tinānträ tot laukaññe (408b6). + -- tettinor ‘± filth’: [c]e[ṃ]tsä mallene tettinor śuwaṃ /// (522a5). +∎This verb is closely related to a group of nouns in Slavic, OCS tina ‘mire, filth,’ Bulgarian tína ‘mire, filth; dung,’ Czech tina ‘dung.’ Together the Tocharian and Slavic words presuppose a PIE *tih_xn- which may be further related to Old English þīnan ‘become moist’ and a rather motley assemblage gathered by Pokorny (pg. 1053), under a lemma we might represent as *teh_ai- and *teh_aw- which mean ‘melt, flow’ (VW:505; MA:169). Since *tīn- (< *tih_xn-) should have become Tocharian *tsin- or *cin- the lack of palatalization must be analogical, and the result of a new PTch zero-grade *täin- (cf. Adams, 1978). +

+ + +
+

+tinār* +(n.) +‘denarius’ (gold monetary unit)
+[//-, -, tināränta] +/// sanai sanai yaltse tinārnta /// ‘one by one a thousand denarii’ (366a4), ce_u smāṃ yāmtsintse pelkiñ yaltse tināränta ytārine ṣallāre ‘they threw on the road 1,000 denarii in order to make a repetition’ (H-149-ADD.12a5 [Thomas, 1954:757]). +∎From BHS dīnāra-. +

+ + +
+

+timawe +‘?’
+(439a1). +

+ + +
+

+tīmīr +(n.) +‘darkness of the eyes, partial blindness’
+[timir, timiräntse, -//] +tīmīräntse = BHS timira- (P-3b4). +∎From BHS timira-. +

+ + +
+

+tiri +See teri. +

+ + +
+

+tīrthe* +(n.) +‘heretic’
+[//tīrthi, thīrtheṃts, tīrtheṃ] +(19a6). + -- tīrtheṣṣe ‘prtng to a heretic’ (16b2). +∎From BHS tīrthika- or tīrthya-. +

+ + +
+

+tilāk +(n.) +‘Clerodendrum phlomoides Linn.’
+[tilāk, -, -//] +(275a2). +∎From BHS tilaka-. +

+ + +
+

+tilādevi +(npl.) +a class of gods?
+[ñäkciyana śa]mñāṃṣkana sahadevi tilādevi patt ̇ mā /// (509a4). +‣Nothing similar in M-W or Edgerton. +

+ + +
+

+tille* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, tillentse, -//] +/// pramekäntse yäsar tillentse onuwaññe sāṃ/// (P-3b2). +

+ + +
+

+Tiṣye +(n.) +‘Tiṣya’ (PN)
+[Tiṣye, Tiṣyentse, Tiṣyeṃ//] +(110a7). +

+ + +
+

+tu- ~ twās- +(vt.) +‘kindle, ignite, light’
+Ps. XI /twāsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, twā(sä)ṣṣäṃ//; MP -, -, twasatär//]; Ko. XI (= Ps.) [AOpt. twāsäṣṣim, -, -; Inf. twāsäs(t)si]; PP /two-/. +kā ṣeme ra ksa cok tänksā twāṣṣäṃ ‘why should someone light the lamp out of love?’ (274a5), snai käṣṣiṃ cwi snai akṣalñe āryamārg ṣe twasastär ‘with neither teacher nor his instruction he kindles at once the āryamarga’ (591b4); [aiśamñe]ṣṣe ṣpä cok ñiś twāsäṣṣim ‘and may I kindle the lamp of wisdom!’ (364a4), puwar twāsasi [sic] ‘to light the fire’ (116.6). +∎TchA twās- and B tu- ~ twās- reflect PTch *tu- (and a derived, denominative, *twesā- like *swesā-, a denominative of *swese from *su- ‘rain’) from PIE *deh_aw- ‘burn, ignite’ [: Sanskrit dunóti ‘burns (tr.),’ Greek daíō ‘ignite’ (< *dh_aw-ye/o-), Old Irish dóïm ‘burn (tr.),’ OHG zuscen ‘burn’ (P:179-181; MA:87)] (VW:519). PTch *tu- may well represent a zero-grade *duh_a- with laryngeal metathesis rather than *dh_au-. In any case, the immediate pre-Tocharian form could not have been *dwa- (< *dwh_a-) since such a form would have eventuated in Tocharian **wā- with loss of PIE *d- before a resonant. +

+ + +
+

+tu +(pronoun) +‘this one, it’ [the neuter of su, q.v.]
+ -- tw-auñentai ‘± thereupon’: tw=auñentai [ṣpä] weña tarya ślokanma toṃ kätkr-ārth pudñäkte ‘thereupon the Buddha spoke these three ślokas of deep meaning’ (27b2); +
+tw-ompostäṃ ‘± thereupon’: Maudgalyāyane tw= ompostäṃ Jatiśroṇi [ākṣ=au]rtse mäkte śaul [kä]ttankäṃ ‘thereupon M. announced publicly to J. how life proceeds’ (3a2); +
+tu-menāksa ‘± likewise’: tu-menāksa ñiś rano (TEB-64-13); +
+tu-postäṃ ‘thereafter’: [mā yä]knāsträ tu-postäṃ krentaunameṃ ‘thereafter he is not negligent about virtues’ (12a6), mā walke nke ñiś ksemar tu-postäṃ onmiṃ tākaṃ-me ‘[it is] not long then [and] I will be extinguished; thereafter they will regret’ (29a8); +
+tu-yknesa: ‘thus, in this manner; special’: tu-yknesa = BHS evam (3a3), [keka]m[o]ṣ tuyknesa = BHS tathāgatāḥ (27a7), tu-yäknesa = BHS tādṛśa (30b4), pācer cwimp [ku]rār-lūwo tu-yäknes[a] kwäsnāträ snai-kärsto ‘his father in the manner of a kurār-beast cries without interruption’ (88b1), se ṣamāne yaka yaṣisa lānte kercyenne yaṃ parna tu-yknesa ṣärmameṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk goes to the palace of the king at night, absent a special reason, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), tū no k_uce yäknesa ‘but by what manner?’ (PK-AS16.2a6 [Pinault, 1989:155]), tu-yäknesa aurtsana aiśamñenta pärkaṃ-me ‘such wide [kinds of] knowledge will arise to them’ (PK-AS16.2b6 [ibid.]); +
+tu-yknesāk-kekamu (a calque on) ‘tathāgata’: Cf. also 27a7 supra; +
+tu-yparwe ‘± thereupon’: tu-yparwe weñ[a] piś toṃ ślo[kanma] ‘thereupon he spoke these five ślokas’ (16b6=18a2), tu-yparwe ñakti śāmna tsälpāre piś toṃ cmelameṃ ‘thereupon the gods freed men from the five births’ (30b8). +∎From the PIE neuter singular *od (with early loss of the final *-d) + the PIE emphasizing particle *u. +See also tune, tumeṃ, tumpa, and tusa. +

+ + +
+

+tuk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be hidden, hide oneself’; K ‘hide’
+G Ps II/III: /cuk^'ä/_e- or cuke-/ [MP cukemar, -, -//]; Ko. V /tāukā-/ [A taukau, -, -//]; PP /tuko-/. +
+K Ps. IXb /tukäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, tukastär// -, - tukäskentär; MPPart. tukäskemane]; Ipv. II /päcceuk/: päccauk (K-T); Pt. II /cāukā-/ [MP caukamai, -, caukate// -, -, caukante]; PP /ceccuku-/ +/// [mā] ñī stamoy saim-wästa tañ painene cukemar /// ‘may it not last for me, O Refuge; I am hiding among thy feet!’ (268b2); karuṇaṣṣe tronk prutk[a]r tune taukau-c saim pācer lāma-ñ prosko ‘fill up the hollow of pity! Therein will I hide [in] thee, O refuge, O father! My fear will subside’ (TEB-64-08); tsuwai śman-ne mā kāccaṃ wäntr=enestai tukästrä (127a5), indrinta tukästr=anaiśai (A-1a3), kwri cau kallaṃ naumiye tukäskenträ enestai (231b3/4); [mā] ñiś caukamai kca mā ra walāmai kca mā ttsa yāmṣamai | k_use yesäñ wäntre [mā ya]lle ṣai ‘I did not hide anything, nor did I cover anything up, nor did I do anything whatsoever that was not accessible to you’ (27b8), mā caukate arthaṃma ‘he did not hide the meanings’ (29a2); läk_utsauñaisa ceccukoṣ kek[ts]e[ñ] = BHS /// gūḍhadehaṃ (PK-NS-306/305a3 [Couvreur, 1970:177]). +∎TchA tpuk- ‘id.’ and B tuk- reflect PTch *(wä-)tuk- (where *wä- reflects PIE *wi- ‘away’ and *wt- has metathesized regularly to tp- in TchA; see also tsuk-). On the basis of meaning one would like to see in it a reflex of PIE *keud^h- ‘hide’ [: Sanskrit kuhara (nt.) ‘hole,’ kuhayate ‘surprises, astonishes; tricks,’ Old English hýdan ‘hide,’ Greek keúthō ‘id.’ (P:952; MA:268)]. Such a connection would be possible if we assume the same kind of metathesis of the same type we see in Lithuanian kepù ‘cook’ from PIE *pek^w- or Greek sképtomai ‘look about carefully, spy’ from *speḱ-, namely pre-Tocharian *keud^h- > *d^heuk-. The same *d^heuk- is to be seen in the Old English hapax preterite dēog ‘concealed himself’ (Beowulf 850), dēagol ‘secret, hidden, mysterious,’ the OHG participle tougan ‘concealed,’ and tougali ‘secret.’ The Germanic forms represent a class VII strong verb *daugana- ‘conceal oneself.’ The *daug- exactly matches the pre-Tocharian *teuk- under-lying the Tocharian subjunctive *tāuk-ā-. See Adams, 1993b:39. +
+Not with VW (509-510) should we connect tuk- with the isolated West Germanic group seen in OHG tūhhan ‘dip,’ Old English dūcan ‘duck,’ Dutch duiken ‘dive,’ wegduiken ‘bundle oneself up,’ dialectal Dutch (ver-)duiken ‘hide’ where the meaning ‘hide’ occurs only dialectally in Dutch. +

+ + +
+

+Tukik* +(n.) +‘Tukik’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Tukikäntse, -//] +(462a5). +

+ + +
+

+T_unkā +(n.) +‘Tunka’ (PN)
+[T_unkā, -, -//] +(289b2). +

+ + +
+

+tuñe +(n.[f.pl.) +‘blossom’ (in general), or a specific kind of flower (?)
+[tuñe, -, tuñ//tuñanma, -, -] +ñäkcyana tuñanma py[apyaiṃ] (415b5), tuṃñ pyāpyaisa pattiṃ w_ināṣṣäṃñesa ki/// ‘with tuñ and flower by honors and reverence’ (G-Qa1.2), kurkal tuñe viciträ pyāpyai maṇḍālne taṣale (M-3a5). + -- tuñaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a tuñe’: ñäkcyeṃ tuñaṣṣeṃ - m ka no/// (374b4); +
+tuñatstse* ‘having tuñe flowers’: tuñatsana wranta (H-ADD.149.91a2). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+tutuṃtarhāññe* +(n.) +the name of a meter
+[-, -, tutuṃtarhāññe//] +(115b4). +

+ + +
+

+tute +(adj.) +‘yellow’
+[m: tute, tucepi, tuceṃ//-, -, tucenäṃ] [f: /tucyane, -, -/] +pilko mäntäṃtär-ne tucyane e[śane] (118b6), tucenäṃ = BHS utpāṇḍūtpāṇḍukaṃ (PK-NS-12a2 [Couvreur, 1967:153]), tucepi yetsentse ‘for [cases of] jaundice’ (W-7b1). + -- tute-nesalñe ‘quality of being yellow’: tute-nesalñe = BHS pītabhāvā- (Y-3a2). +∎TchB tute reflects a conflation PIE *d^huh_xto- and its h₁en-stem counterpart *d^huh_xte-h₁en- (see Adams, 1988d, for the formation). The *d^huh_xto- is the exact equivalent of Sanskrit dhūtá-, the past participle of dhū- ‘shake, agitate, cause to tremble’ from PIE *d^heuh_x- ‘± (make) rise as a cloud of dust’ (more s.v. täṃts-). As a color term one might compare Sanskrit dhūmrá- ‘gray-black, smokey, purple’ or Lithuanian dùlas ‘gray’ (Lidén, 1916:25-6, VW:518). In Tocharian the meaning ‘yellow’ presumably arise from ‘covered with dust.’ +See also täṃts-, to, taur, and tweye. +

+ + +
+

+t_unak +‘?’
+t_unak /// (110a5). +

+ + +
+

+tune +(adv.) +‘therein, in it’
+tune nke twe wīna källāt mā=klyilñene ‘thou wilt not achieve pleasure in the knowledge therein’ (286a3), tu maśne enkastär nuskaṣṣäṃ-nne tune swāralyñe yamastär ‘[if] he seizes it [scil. the penis] in [his] fist and finds pleasure therein’ (334a4/5), tune mäsketrä ‘he finds himself in it’ (559a5). + -- tukne ‘id.’: tāko[y]m ñ[i]ś tukne stmauwo ‘may I be established in it!’ (S-3a4/5); +
+tunek ‘id.’: (188b1). +∎The locative of tu, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+t(_u)māne +(number) +‘ten thousand, a myriad’
+[t(_u)mane, -, -//-, -, t(_u)manenma] +śāmna[ṃ]ts śaul ṣai ṣkas tmane pik_ula ‘the life of men was six myriads [of] years’ (3b1), toṃ tmān[e] ñul[tse] ... wī tmāne ‘these nine thousand myriads ... two myriads’ (45b3). +∎Like TchA tmāṃ, B t_umāne is a borrowing from some middle Iranian source (Bailey, 1985:120, *tu-māna- ‘great measure;’ cf. also VW:642, Winter, 1991: 127-128), the same source that produced Modern Persian tumān ‘ten thousand.’ Uyghur tümän may be an independent borrowing from the same source or a borrowing from Tocharian A or B. +

+ + +
+

+tumeṃ +(adv.) +‘then, thereupon; therefrom’
+[tumeṃ oṃṣap ‘moreover’] +ñäṣṣītr=ākālk seyi cmelñeṣṣe | tumeṃ wnolm=alleksa cwi śnoy kātsane ot camel wärpāte ‘he cherished a wish for the birth of a son; thereupon another being underwent birth in [his] wife's womb’ (42b4), preke śänmaṃ tumeṃ ñäś oko tentse rītamar ‘the time came and then I sought the fruit thereof’ (240b3), tumeṃ = BHS atha (528b2), tumeṃ oṃṣäp no ñakti klyowonträ snai ersna ‘moreover the gods are called "formless"’ (K-2a3), ywārtse śaul śāyeṃ tumeṃ nraimeṃ laitonträ ‘they will live half a life, then they will move from hell’ (K-3a4). +‣For a discussion of the meaning, see Thomas, 1976a. +∎The ablative of tu, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tumpa +(adv.) +‘± therewith’
+tumpa tasemane (115a3), tumpameṃ [sic] alonkna śa/// = BHS tadanyāni rupāntarāṇi (189b5), /// kr_ui tumpa trīwaṣṣäṃ tuntse ekälym[i] mäs[k]e[trä] (336a3). +∎The comitative of tu, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+turani +(n.) +‘Phaseolus mungo Linn.’ or ‘Phaseolus tribolus Ait.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[turani, -, -//] +(W-4a3). +∎From BHS dhuraṇī- +

+ + +
+

+turtām +‘?’
+/// ̇ñ ̇ meṃ turtām tsaṅ ̇ ̇/// (578b3). +

+ + +
+

+turya* +(n.) +a kind of Curcuma (?)
+[-, -, turyai//] +[su]gandhik turyai sumāṃntsa (571b3). +∎If from BHS dūrya-. +

+ + +
+

+tuwak +See tu. +

+ + +
+

+tuwe, yes +(pronoun) +‘thou’ ; ‘you’
+[t(u)we, tañ, ci/yene, -, yene/yes, yesäñ ~ yesäṃ ~ yesi, yes] +∎TchA tu and B tuwe reflect PTch *tuwe from PIE *tuh_xóm the same preform that gave Sanskrit tuvám ~ tvám, Avestan tūm, Old Persian tuvam [without *om: Armenian du, Greek (Doric) tú, Ionic-Attic sú, Latin tū, Old Irish tū, Gothic þu, Lithuanian tù, OCS ty (P:1097-1098; MA:455)] (Pisani, 1941-1942:7, VW:516-7). Within Tocharian one should also note TchA ñuk ‘I/me’ (feminine) from PIE *h₁eǵ^hōh_xom (with the initial ñ- added from the oblique cases). The oblique TchA cu and B ci reflect the PIE oblique *tewe or *twe (Adams, 1988c:151, following Pedersen, 1941:132, and Petersen, 1933:21). The genitive tañ, like the reflexive ṣañ, is analogical after the old first person singular genitive *ñä from *m(e)ne (Adams, 1988c:152-153). The TchA forms tñi and ṣñi have added the additional genitive ending -i to the forms that underlie the B words. +
+TchA yas ‘you’ and B yes reflect a PTch *yes, a conflation of the PIE nominative second person plural pronoun *yuh_x(s) [: Sanskrit yūyám, Gathic Avestan yūš, Gothic jūs, Lithuanian jūs (P:513-514; MA:455)] and an oblique stem *wos- [: Sanskrit vaḥ, Avestan vå, Latin vōs (nom. and acc.) (P:514)]. In Tocharian we see the extension of the initial consonant of the nominative to the oblique stem (for which we might compare the Sanskrit oblique yuṣmān with a similar extension of the nominative's initial *y-). For this etymology see Petersen (1935:205), Pedersen (1941:133), and VW (587-588). In a parallel fashion has the paradigm of wes ‘we’ been built. The genitive of the second person plural pronoun is this yes plus the usual genitive markers -ñ or -i. The dual yene reflects this conflated stem *wo(s) plus the Tocharian dual ending *-ne. +See also taññe, ciṣṣe, and -c. +

+ + +
+

+tūṣadṛṣtānt +(n.) +‘± allegory of the border of a garment’
+[tūṣadṛṣṭānt, -, -//] +(593a3). +∎From BHS *tūṣa-dṛṣṭānta- (compound not in Monier-Williams or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Tuṣi +(n.) +‘Tuṣi’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Tuṣi, -, -//] +(433a14). +

+ + +
+

+tuṣit +(n.) +‘one of a class of celestial beings’
+[tuṣit, -, tuṣit//] +(424a4). + -- tuṣitäṣṣe ‘prtng to a tuṣita’ (231a2). +∎From BHS tuṣita-. +See also toṣitäṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+tusa +(adv.) +‘thus, thereby’
+tusa kāccän sū skwassu cmela[n]e ‘thus he rejoices, fortunate in births’ (24a2), tusa = BHS iti (194a2), tusa = BHS tasmāt (196b2), tusa k[akāc]cu ply[e]_usa su ke_ucä ... yäprerne ‘thus rejoicing he soared high in the air’ (365a3), mā ket ra nta kca aiṣṣäṃ k_use āyor tūsa snaitse mäsketrä ‘whoever does not give a gift to anyone, by this he is poor’ (K-6b2), /// no wnolmi māka kr_ui aunanträ nestsi räskarona matrona stāna ṣpä mäskenträ tusa ‘[if] however many beings begin to be [evil-minded], the trees will become bitter and sharp thereby’ (K-8b6), [in Manichean script] tvs’ (Winter/Gabain; passim). + -- tusāk ‘thus, in just this way’: tusāk [ṣam]āni ṣ[añ] śaults=olypo lareno [papāṣṣorñe] ‘thus, [you] monks, [is] moral behavior dearer than [your] own lives’ (14b5); +
+tusāksa ‘id.’: tus[ā]ks[a] nai ñak[e] ārw[e]r tākam ‘just so will we indeed be ready’ (77a1), tus[ā]ksa = BHS tasmāt (299b1). +∎The perlative of tu, q.v. Cf. tesa. +

+ + +
+

+Tuhkā +(n.[pl.]) +‘Turks’
+[//Tuhkā, -, -] +Tuhkā ecce w_ināsi kameṃ ‘the Turks came hither to worship’ (G-Qm11). +

+ + +
+

+tṛṣṇ +(n.) +‘thirst, desire’
+[tṛṣṇ, -, -//] +(151b2). +∎From BHS tṛṣṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+tṛṣṇabhavānk* +(n.) +‘± state of existence of desire’
+[-, -, tṛṣṇabhavānk//] +(152b3). +∎From BHS *tṛṣṇa-bhav-ānga- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+tṛṣṇopādāṃ +(n.) +‘± clinging to existence cause by thirst’
+[tṛṣṇopādāṃ, -, -//] +(151a4). +∎From BHS *tṛṣṇopādāma- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+te +(pronoun) +‘this one, it’
+‣Neuter of se, q.v. + -- tek ‘id.’ (A-1b3=A-2a3); +
+tek-yäknesa ‘in this way’: tek-yäknesa śpālmeṃ ñiś yamim pākri oktatsai klyamñai ytāri ‘by this excellent way may I manifest the noble eightfold way!’ (S-4a4/5); +
+tentse ‘thereof’: aiśamñe tentse ṣaññe k_uśalamūltse te pkarsas ‘the wisdom thereof, know this as the characteristic of the healing-root!’ (41a4), preke śänmaṃ tumeṃ ñäś oko tentse rītamar ‘then the time comes and I sought the fruit thereof’ (240b3); +
+te-mant ‘in this manner, thus, as you know’: te-mant = BHS iti (31a6), ṣärmämeṃ tsänkalyñe te-mäts [sic] kärsänalle = BHS pratitya iti ca jñeya (148a3/4), k_uce te-mant wñāwa tu nke weñau aiśai ‘what I have so said, that I will now speak clearly’ (K-2a5/6); +
+te-ramt ‘± thus’: te-ramt weṣ[y]eṃ poyśiṃñe[ṣṣe] kauña[kt]e parka ‘thus they say: the Buddha-sun has arisen’ (408a4). +∎From the PIE neuter singular *tod (more s.v. se). +See also tempa, tene, tane, and taiknesa. +

+ + +
+

+tek- +See täk-. +

+ + +
+

+teka* +(n.) +(?) only attested in the compound tekai-yok
+/// [u]ppālntasa tseññana kmutäntas=ārkwina se tekai-yokä (588a3). +

+ + +
+

+teki +(nnt.) +‘disease, illness’
+[teki, -, teki//-, tekanmaṃts, tekanma] +teki ktsaitsñe kes yoko toṃ ñya[tsenta] ‘sickness, old-age, hunger, thirst, these dangers’ (4a2), wrocce t[e]ki wärpāte ‘he suffered a great disease’ (34a6), [p]o yente-pittaṣṣana [te]kanmantso se ṣalype sāṃtke ‘this salve [is] the remedy for all wind or bile diseases’ (497a5), yenteṣṣana tekaṃna erṣäṃ [tekaṃma = BHS vikāra-] (ST-a2), klaiñe teki (Y-1a1), po tekanma näkṣeñca [tekanma = BHS āmaya-] (Y-2a2). + -- tekiññe (adj.) ‘sick, diseased’: pälsko tekiññe ‘diseased spirit’ (254b2), tā tekiṃñai kektseṃ ñ[i] ‘my diseased body’ (595a3); +
+tekiṣṣe ‘prtng to disease’: mātārä srukalyñeṣṣe koyn kakāyau tekiṣṣeṃ kemeṃtsa po treṣṣäṃ śaiṣṣe ‘the Makara, gaping [his] mouth of death, chews the whole world with teeth of disease’ (282b4). +∎A nomen actionis from the subjunctive stem of täk- (Sieg, Siegling, 1949:129, VW:505) as if ‘that which touches’ (cf. Latin contagio). +

+ + +
+

+tekīta +‘?’
+tekīta taśi wat = BHS /// spṛśed vā (530b4). +

+ + +
+

+tenkeś +‘?’
+śattālyeṃ [sic] klaina tenkeś päs maiytare amokces yikṣye piś ṣankäṃ (434a9), meñe śtarte tenkeś śeśusa yi[kṣy]e /// (484a4). +

+ + +
+

+tecapati +(n.) +‘Pothos officinalis Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[tecapati, -, -//] +(W-2b3, W-27a5). +∎From BHS tejavatī-. +

+ + +
+

+teteka +(adv.) +‘suddenly, immediately’
+kr_ui ñke tetekā śänmyeṃ yaṣṣūcañ ‘if now suddenly beggars come’ (78a1), teteka srukalyñeṣṣ=īme onolments nesalle mā ṣai ‘[if] suddenly the consciousness of death did not exist for beings’ (K-11b5). + -- tetekāk ‘id.’: /// [wai]ke [weskau] tetekāk ṣpä weṣṣäṃ [sic] ‘I will speak a lie and suddenly he speaks [it]’ (336b2); +
+tetkāk ‘id.’: tetkāk ṣp śman-me srūkalñe /// ‘and [if] suddenly death comes to them’ (1b5), [la]kl[e] snaitse tetkāk ṣp känmaṣṣäṃ ‘and suddenly comes suffering and poverty’ (3b7). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (1976:505, cf. 1941:139) points to the phonologically similar Sanskrit tāják (but also tāját) ‘suddenly’ but any connection is very difficult. +

+ + +
+

+tetakor +See täk-. +

+ + +
+

+tet(e)kāk +See teteka. +

+ + +
+

+tettinor +See tin-. +

+ + +
+

+teṃ +(pronoun) +‘this one’
+cempa yakwi trai stare-me teṃ parra ptārka ṣap mā tärkanat ‘with him there are their three horses; let this through; more do not let through!’ (LP-15a3/5). +‣Restricted to caravan passes. +∎The neuter of seṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Tenare +(n.) +‘Tenare’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Tenare, -, -//] +(491a2). +

+ + +
+

+tene +(adv.) +‘here’
+Mokasene Dharmatrāte tene kameṃ ‘M. and Dh. came here’ (G-Su10), trai śarmiriśkaṃ Puñicaṃdre Jñānacaṃndre Amrätarakṣite tene kameṃ ‘three novices, P., J. and A. came here’ (G-Su34.1). +∎A variant of tane. +

+ + +
+

+tentse +See te. +

+ + +
+

+tep* +(n.) +‘outcry’ (?), ‘(legal) suit’ (?)
+[-, -, tep//] +[kr_ui] ñi c[ā]ne mā ait - - kutsau-ś tep yamaskemar ‘if thou dost not give me the cāne, I will accuse thee and make an outcry/bring suit (?)’ (495a4/b1). +‣The proposed meanings will fit the context but are by no means assured. +∎If the first of the suggested meanings should be correct, then there is the possibility that this word is related to täp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+temeñ ~ temeṃ +(adv.) +‘consequently, because of that’
+/// [e]pyac klāṣle ente teme[e]ñ stamäṣle ‘[he is] to remember where, consequently, [he is] to stand’ (10b6), sū temeñ sraukaṃ nraine tänmastär ‘he will, consequently, [if] he should die, be [re-]born in hell’ (17a8), pakaccāṃne kattākeṃ epinkte lämās temeñ ñāssare cey śwer meñi päs takāre ‘you stayed among patrons in the rainy season; subsequently they urged: four months have passed!’ (331a5/b1), k_uce no te wñāwa yāmornts= okonta temeṃ mante k_uce no weñau nke pklyauṣso po āñmtsa ‘since I have told it [as] fruits of the deed, since from here on I will tell it, then hear it with all [your] souls!’ (K-8a3). + -- temeñce ‘consequently, then’: sraukaṃ ṣ temeñce prere ramtä kekarṣṣu [ ] nraine tänmasträ ‘and [if] he should die, consequently like a shot arrow [i.e. as uickly as a shot arrow] he will be [re-]born in hell’ (14b4), kampāl mā päst kalatar temeñce pästä lyutem-cä ‘[if] thou dost not bring the cloak back, then we will drive thee out’ (337b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps the causal of an otherwise unattested *teme ‘± nature, kind,’ a nomen actionis from täm-, q.v. Alternatively, the ablative of the neuter pronoun te. The form of the ablative ending is possibly matched by the apparent ablative, tsukälemeñä, found in what is probably the oldest datable document in Tocharian B (first or second decade of the seventh century) (Lévi, 1913:320, fn. 1). In either case, the alternate form temeṃ originally results from the tendency for final -ñ to become -n in TchB. +

+ + +
+

+tempa +(adv.) +‘± therewith’
+/// [sa]k lakle śaul ṣpä tem[pa] ṣuktante mā kautsi yā[taṃ] (28b2). +∎The comitative of te, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+teri* ~ tiri* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘way, manner’
+[-, -, teri ~ tiri//] +mā=cārne spārta mā yakne tiri krent yāmṣate ‘he does not remain in [good] behavior and does not act [in] a good way or manner’ (44b8), se yesi śarāṃ ārttalñe tākaṃ cau yes terine rittāträ caune ‘this refuge of yours is love and you will bind it in him in this way’ (108a7), ñake aśari teri plāskaṃn-me ‘now, the acārya will consider the manner [of action]’ (DAM-507a11 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), se tane t[e]ri ‘this is the way’ (PK-AS16.2b2 [Pinault, 1989:155]). +∎Clearly related to TchA tiri ‘id.’ but the exact manner of its relationship (cognate, borrowing from A to B or B to A, borrowing by both from a third language?) is not known, nor are any extra-Tocharian connections recognized. Not (with VW:506) related to Old Norse tīrr ‘honor, glory,’ etc., which would present both phonological and semantic difficulties. +

+ + +
+

+terestai +‘?’
+terestai tā_u tsā[ra]ne itaite [= ite ite?] /// (416b5). +

+ + +
+

+terwe +(n.) +a kind of snake (?)
+[terwe, -, -//] +lope terwe ket [t]sākaṃ saṃtke weñau ‘I will speak now of the salve, a medicine for whom the terwe bites’ (P-2b1=P-2b2). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+telki +(n.) +‘sacrifice’
+[telki, -, telki//-, -, telkanma] +/// [snai te]lkanma ñiś yolaiññemeṃ tsälpāwa ‘without sacrifices I freed myself from evil’ (19b7), mā āyor mā ra telki yamalñe [mā] kwälñe nesäṃ ‘there is no gift, neither is there offering of a sacrifice or libation’ (28a6), [aśvame]t wärñai yāmä[ṃ] wrotstsana telkanma ‘[if] he offers the aśvamedha, etc., the great sacrifices’ (290a1), tel[k]i = BHS -yajña (541a4). + -- telkiṣṣe ‘prtng to a sacrifice’: tāṃ telkiṣṣe maṇḍālmeṃ ltusai ‘the one having emerged from the maṇḍala of sacrifice’ (345a2); +
+telki-yāmor* ‘sacrifice’: [ce]k-wärñai [te]lki yāmor kekuwer ṣpä śaiṣṣe[ne] ‘no matter what sacrifice having been poured out in the world’ (307b3). +∎TchA talke ‘id.’ and B telki reflect PTch *telkäi (< *telke + -äi) from a putative PIE *tolko- and closely related to an otherwise isolated Baltic and Slavic group *tolkeh_a [: Lithuanian talkà ‘banquet, festival organized after common work, collective assistance,’ Russian toloká ‘id.’ (P:1062; MA:496)] (VW, 1971e, 1976:492). +

+ + +
+

+teśit (~ deśit) +(n.) +‘confession’ (and perhaps ‘instruction’ as well)
+[teśit, -, teśit//] +tot stulāṃñcana tränkänta kättankäṃ po sāṅne teśitä yamaṣällona ‘he commits so many stulāñcana-sins; [they are] to be confessed before the entire community’ (334a2/3), mā no deśīt pest yamaskenträ mā ra no tärkänaṃ ārtte mā ra rintsi cämpen-ne ‘neither do they make a confession, nor do they behave indifferently, nor yet are the able to abandon [it] [scil. the deed]’ (K-3a3). +∎From BHS deśita-. +

+ + +
+

+tesa +(adv.) +‘thereover; thus, therefore’
+[indri]ntaṃts [] allek-tesa-nesalyñe eśne warñai piśantso (5b6), mā=lyāk tesa parna ytārye nesäṃ ksa tne saṃsārmeṃ laṃtsiś ‘there is no other way than this by which to emerge from the saṃsāra’ (28a3), tesa rmer kā kentsa tā_u lyaka lykäñ ce_u tārśī[cce] ‘thus he quickly saw it [scil. the container] on the ground and the deceptive thief’ (133b5), te parra tārka tesa ṣap mā tärkanat ‘this let through; more than this do not let through’ (LP-12a1/2), nāki lkāskau klautkomar yolaiñemeṃ tesa mant po cmelane ‘I see reproach; may I turn from e il thuswise in all births!’ (TEB-64-04). + -- tesa-wärñai ‘by such [means], etc.’: tesa-wärñai yenteṣṣana tekaṃna erṣäṃ ‘by such, etc., it produces wind diseases’ (ST-a2). +∎The perlative of te, q.v. +See Cf. tusa. +

+ + +
+

+tesakaccām* +(n.) +name of a meter of 4 X 18 syllables (rhythm 7/7/4)
+[-, -, tesakaccāṃ//] +(107a7). +

+ + +
+

+taiknesa (= te + yäknesa) +(adv.) +(a) ‘thus;’ (b) ‘such’ (when preceded by se or su)
+(a) taiknesa = BHS tathā (5b8), taiknesa wnolme nraine tänmastär ‘thus a being is [re-]born in hell’ (18b4), [tai]kn[e]sa kekamoṣ = BHS tathāgatāḥ (27b5), taiknesa = BHS tathaiva (30a4), te-yäknesa poyśiṃñeṣṣepi Ylaiñäkteṃtse ñakti ... yarke yamaṣyeṃ ‘thus did the gods honor the all-knowing Indra’ (408a4/6), nraiyne tetemoṣ nraiyne taiknesa wnolmi solmeṃ śaul śāyeṃ mantanta kca tsälpenträ ‘beings born in hell, thus in hell will they live [their] whole live[s]; they will never be redeemed’ (K-3a1); +
+(b) ce teyknesa īkene te spārtoyträ ‘in such a place it dwells’ (278a1), toṃ te-yknesa pärkāwnta wrotsana yänmāṣṣäṃ ‘such great benefits a being achieves’ (K-10a5). + -- taiknesāk ‘thus, just so’: kwreṃntär lānte kokalyi olyapotstse pärsāñci | taik[n]esāk ra kektseñi kätsai[ññe] [sic] [yänmāskeṃ] ‘the wagons of the king are old, [though] very colorful; just so bodies achieve old-age’ [taiknesāk = BHS atho] (5a8). +∎From te + yäknesa, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+taine +See se. +

+ + +
+

+tail* +(n.) +‘(sesame-)oil’
+[tail, -, tail//] +te tailtsa ṣpärkkaṣṣälle ‘this by (sesame-)oil [is] to be dissolved’ (W-14a5). +∎From BHS taila-. +

+ + +
+

+taiwe +(n.) +‘ripe fruit’
+[taiwe, -, taiwe//taiwi, -, -] +[tai]we menāk = BHS phalaṃ pakvam iva (2a7), taiwe pälskoṣṣe e[ṅtsi preke] ‘[it is] the time to grasp the ripe fruit of the spirit’ (281b1). +∎This TchB word reflects a putative *deh_ai-wo-, a derivative of PIE *deh_a(i)- ‘cut off, separate, share out’ [: Sanskrit dāti ~ dyáti (< *deh_a-ti and *dh_a-ye-ti or *dh_ay-e-ti respectively) ‘cuts off, mows, separates,’ Greek dáiomai ‘distribute, feast on’ dáinūmi ‘give a banquet or feast,’ and many nominal derivatives in other Indo-European languages (P:175-178; MA:160-161)] (cf. VW:491, though details differ considerably). +

+ + +
+

+taisa +(conjunctive adverb) +‘thus, so’
+kautaläñe yetsentse misāṃts lkāntär-c īlārñe | taisa teṃ ste Āna[nda snai]-ersnās [lege: snai-ersnā] ste ktsaitsäññe ‘the fissuredness of the skin and the flaccidity of the flesh are seen by thee; thus [it] is, Ānanda, old-age is ugly’ (5b6), /// [rū]paṣṣe ātse taisa lkāṣṣälle mäkte wärmīya lesto [] mäkte warmi lestaine yänmaskeṃ [] taisa rūpaṣṣe ātse /// ‘the shape element [is] thus to be seen as an anthill; as the ants enter into the hill, such [is] the shape element’ (154a5), śāmñana āsta taiysa kwrāṣäṃ ṣekaṃñe enepre tāṣträ ‘thus he places human bones in front of the eternal skeleton’ (559a5/b1). + -- taisāk ‘just so’: taisā[k] = BHS tathā (16a8), takarṣkñe taisāk kwipassorñe taisāk r=āyor | pelaiknenta ‘just so faith and just so shame like giving [are] the laws’ [taisāk = BHS atha] (23a2/3); +
+taisak-tuka ‘± precisely so’: mā no tu kāmagunta weskeṃtär taisak-tuka [ka]baḍi[kār] /// (176a2), taisak-tuka vijñāṃ āśrayṣṣe wākimeṃ reri[nu] (194b2). +∎This and the next two entries are obviously to be related but their relationship and ultimate origin are not clear. Superficially it might seem that we have compounds of tai- + sā (nominative feminine of se ‘this/that’), or se (nominative masculine ‘this/that’) or seṃ (nominative masculine ‘this’), or sū (nominative masculine ‘this, he’) but such an explanation seems impossible if only because there is no reason to see any nominatives as part of these clearly adverbial conjunctions. Rather I think we must see here a PTch *teisä (or its Pre-Tochaerian avatar) ‘so, therefore’ that has been additionally characterized (1) by -ā the original perlative ending (retained as such in TchA, in B we have the reanalysis of the plural [accusative plus -ā] *-ns-ā as -n-sā), (2) by *-e an old ablative (< PIE *-ōd) that characterized pronominal stems (see mäkte), or by *u the strengthening enclitic particle so often seen as part of anaphora in Tocharian (see sū). Alternatively taisu might be *teise + u (as in mant, q.v.). Taiseṃ results from the banal addition of an -n often found in adverbial words in Tocharian (cf. eneṃ, postäṃ). The underlying *teisä I take to be from either the PIE genitive plural *toisom (OCS těchъ, Sanskrit teṣām) and/or locative plural *toisi/u (cf. OCS těchъ, Sanskrit teṣu) used adverbially as a conjunction much as we find (singular) tusa, tumeṃ, etc. +See also te, taise(ṃ), taisu. +

+ + +
+

+taise(ṃ) +(conjunctive adverb) +‘± so, therefore’
+ñake palsko ṣärpalñe ñemace pratihar[i sä]lk[āte-meś s]e taise yesi ñake pälskonta stare [] twe taiseṃ pälskana[t] /// (108b7), /// taiseṃ weṣ sthulāñca || yāṣṣu pete com taiseṃ weṃ sthul (325b4), taiseṃ weweñu tākaṃ ot ka ṣamānentse mant yatsi rittetär (331b3), taise te bodhisātvi epastyi mäske[ntär] (346b2). +∎See taisa. +

+ + +
+

+taisu +(conjunctive adverb) +‘± so, therefore’
+taiysu pälskanoym sanai ṣaryompa śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai ‘so I thought: I will live with a single beloved for the good [my] whole life long’ (496a3/4). +∎See taisa. +

+ + +
+

+to +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘human body hair, particularly pubic hair’ [both singulative and collective]
+[to, -, tai//] +päknāträ klaiṃ ekalmi yāmtsi taine ysissi yoñyeṣṣe to pwarne hom yamaṣäle su [sic] ekalmi mäsketrä ‘[if] one intends to make a woman submit or to (sexually) stimulate her pubis, a hair from the groin [is] to be put in the fire [as] an oblation; he [sic] becomes submitted’ (M-1b6), ///weñ erkasenta lāni yamaṣṣälona kete ratre krāke to nta alā/// ‘... [are] to be made; to whomever menstrual discharge and pubic hair ...’ [?] (W-2a6). +‣To must be detachable from the body, more particularly from the groin or some adjacent part of the body (see yoñiye). Since body-hair is an important symbol of adulthood in many Indo-European cultures (cf. Latin pūbēs), it is reasonable to assume that we have "body-hair" here, or, more particularly, "pubic hair." +∎If correctly identified, the word is to be related to Old Norse dúnn (m.) ‘down.’ The underlying Proto-Germanic *dūna- could be a thematicization of the weak grade of a holokinetic *d^houh_xon- ~ *d^huh_xn- ‘± that which moves upon the air (dust, scent, fluff, etc.).’ The Tocharian word reflects the nominative singular *d^houh_xōn (*d^houh_xōn > *tewo > *towo > to). Semantically we have *‘fluff’ > *‘down’ [= Flaum-feder] > ‘down’ [=Flaumhaar] > ‘body-hair.’ Also related, but more distantly, are Gothic dauns (f. i-stem]) ‘smell (esp. a good one),’ Old Norse daunn (m. o-stem) ‘smell (esp. a bad one)’ and dialectal English [di:n] ‘dust,’ all reflecting a Proto-Germanic *dauna/i-. All are derivatives of PIE *dheuh_x- ‘move agitatedly’ (more s.v. täṃts-). (For meaning and etymology, see Adams, 1987a:3-4). +See also täṃts-, tweye, tute, and taur. +

+ + +
+

+Tonke +(n.) +‘Tonke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Tonke, -, -//] +(Otani 18.9 [Couvreur, 1954c:90]). +

+ + +
+

+tot +(demonstrative) +‘so much, so many, so far’
+kos saikaṃ ṣikont=erkenmaś | tot srūkalñe[ś mä]sk[e]trä ‘as many as the steps to the cemetery, so much is he near to death’ (3b6), mā tne sāṃk [k]sa tot nesäṃ ṣamā[neṃts kos] alāsñe swārästrä ostmeṃ ltu ṣek ‘[there is] here no community of monks as long as he who has left the house continually finds pleasure in indolence’ (12b5), mā ñiś kc=ālyek cot [lege: tot] nrai lkāskau wrocce kos krentäntsa tattaṃ nāki atākatte neṣamye ‘I see no other hell so great as [the one where] they lay on the good ones reproach and untrue rumor’ (15a5=17a6), tam tot śwātsi star-ñ kauṃ ś[aitsiś] ‘that is sufficient food [for] me to live [for] a day’ (25a7), kos cwi maiyy=aiśamñeṣṣa kos īndrinta tot lkāṣṣäṃ ‘as far as his strength of wisdom [reaches], as far as [his] sense-organs, so far does he see’ (41b5), tot wälke ‘so long’ (226b1), tot yokäntañ po tako[yeṃ] ‘as many drinkers as there may be’ (248a3), kosauk srukalyñeṣṣ=īme ma taśi-ne tot ma mrauskāte ‘just as long as the thought of death might not touch him, so long did he not grow weary of the world’ (K-11b3), kos toṃ po kot sātkenta wasto tot ‘as many as all these, as many as [there are] medicaments, [each] doubled so many’ (W-9b1). + -- totak ‘id.’: (608b1); +
+tott-ike-postäṃ ‘± (going) bit by bit’: om no ñake tott [sic] īke postaṃ [sic] ynemane brāhmaṇi Uttareṃ mñcuṣkeṃ ākemane Candramukhi lānte yapoyne klānte-ne ‘there, however, bit by bit the brahmans leading prince U. led him to the realm of king C.’ (88b5); +
+totsa warñai ‘± to that extent’: ṣamāne mäsketrä mā totsa wärñai = BHS bhikṣur bhavati na tāvatā (H-149-ADD.124b2 [Thomas, 1974:93] = U-25b2). +∎That we have here some derivative of the PIE anaphoric pronoun *to- seems indisputable though the exact form of the PIE ancestor is not as clear as it might be. It possibly reflects an adverbial *toti [: Sanskrit táti ‘so many’ and Latin tot ‘id.’ (P:1087; MA:457)] plus the particle *u which appears in so many of the resumptive pronouns in Tocharian (more s.v. sū or mant). A PIE *toti u would give *tot u by facultative loss of word final *-i (see the discussion s.v. ikäṃ ‘twenty’) and the latter would regularly give PTch *tot, whence B tot. Or from *teh_awot [: Sanskrit tāvat ‘so much, so many, so great, so far, etc.’, and Greek téōs ‘so long, meanwhile’ (P:1087; MA:457)]. Not (with VW:508) a borrowing from an unattested A tot, itself from a putative PIE *to-to-u), or (with Hilmarsson, 1987) from PIE *to-dō. More s.v. kos. +See also totka, totte. +

+ + +
+

+totka +([indeclinable] adj. ‘few, little, short, small’; (plural pronoun) +‘few’
+[//totka, totkāṃts, totka] +śaul attsaik totka śāmnaṃts ñke wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä [ramt] atyaṃts a[k]entasa ‘the life of men [is] very short, like the water drop on the tips of grass’ (3b3/4), totka = BHS paritta (3b6), totkāts aiku kwri tākaṃ papāṣṣorñentane no anaiśai wawlāwau ‘if he is known by few but [is] governed by moral behaviors’ (31a4), totkānts aiku = BHS alpajñātaḥ (31a6), tā_u onkorñ[ai] srañciyeṃ tappre kauś yey mā no nta totka rano parna präntsitär ‘they boiled the porridge and it went up high; however, not even a little spattered outside’ (107a1). + -- totkā-yärm ‘of small measure, a little’: kā ye[s ri]ntsi mā campcer pel=ostaṣṣ[e] totkā-yärm ‘why could you not renounce the prison of the house even a little?’ (5a1), totka-yärm = BHS alpamātraḥ (16a7). +∎A compound of tot ‘to such an extent’ plus the particle ka, qq.v. The meaning is then ‘to such a [small] extent’ (VW:509). +

+ + +
+

+totte +(adj.) +‘utmost limit’
+[totte, -, totteṃ//] +totte ykuweṣo = BHS pāragam (30b4), inte no preke eṃṣke [tot āke]ne tākaṃ totteṃ wentsi rittetär ‘if, however, the time is completely at an end, it is convenient to say the utmost thing’ (331b5), totte ynūcañä = BHS pāragāḥ (U-2b1), se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyana[mpa o]lyine ṣamäṃ kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat parna totte kat[k]alñesa ‘[if] a monk by agreement sits in a boat with nuns and guides [it] either upstream or downstream in going across’ (PK-AS-18B-b4/5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]), totte katkalñesa = BHS pārasantaraṇat [Thomas, 1987c:91]), totteṃ wäntaresa ‘by this extreme circumstance’ (DAM-501-a10 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). + -- totteññe (n.) ‘border’: [samu]d[tä]rntse totteññe ekätkātte se mā srukālñe yänmālle ‘[not] having crossed the border of the ocean, he will not achieve death’ (PK-C12-a2 [Thomas, 1987c:91]); +
+totteññetstse* ‘having a border’: [snai-totte]ññecce = BHS apāraṃ (TX6a7 [Thomas, 1987c:91]). +∎A compound of tot ‘so much, so many, so far’ + the neuter demonstrative pronoun te, qq.v. (VW:509). One should compare the similar compound omte ‘there.’ +

+ + +
+

+toṃ and tonak +See se. +

+ + +
+

+tono +(n.) +‘silk’ only attested in the compound tono-wäsanma ‘silk-clothes’ (unpubl. text [K. T. Schmidt, 1980:411]).
+∎From Khotanese thauna- (for etymology, see Schmidt, 1980:411). +

+ + +
+

+tonokäṃ +‘?’
+[a 3rd. sg. verb?] +k_use ptänma - - ne keṃ ṣek tonokäṃ kä - (259b3). +

+ + +
+

+tompok +(adv.) +‘now’
+tanāpate ṣamāneṃ śwātsiś kākatär tompok weṃ-ne aśari ñiś ṣesketse nes[au] (331b2), tompok tatt[aṃ] /// (361b2), tompok snai yarpo srau[kaṃ] ‘now, without meritorious service, he will die’ (375b2). +‣Is it significant that in its three attestations it introduces a clause whose verb is in the subjunctive? +∎Probably the feminine accusative singular of samp ‘that’ (feminine in concord with preściyo ‘time’?) plus the particle ok, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+toyna +See seṃ. +

+ + +
+

+toym +See samp. +

+ + +
+

+towä +See tau. +

+ + +
+

+toṣitäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the tuṣitas’
+[-, -, toṣitäṣṣe//toṣitäṣṣi, -, -] +(347b4). +See Cf. tuṣit. +

+ + +
+

+Tohkeṃ +(n.) +‘Tohkeṃ’ (PN)
+[Tohkeṃ, -, -//] +(289b2). +

+ + +
+

+tau +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘ten quarts (dry measure)’
+[tau, -, //tom ~ taum, -, -] +kantine yikṣye ok tom piś ṣankäṃ klese tau piś ṣankäm ‘flour for bread eight tau and five ṣank klese [one] tau and five ṣank’ (433a6/7), p_iśākka-ṣe cakanma ok taum yap ‘51 cāks, eight tau’ (461a3), Sankatepe ysāre peri towä 5 (491b-II-5). +∎A borrowing from Chinese dǒu ‘peck measure’ (Naert, 1965). The plural tom ~ taum must be assimilated from *taun (cf. kom ‘day’ beside the more usual kauṃ). The latter is from *tauän from the expected nominative plural *tauäñ. +

+ + +
+

+tauk- +See tuk-. +

+ + +
+

+taupe +(nm.) +‘mine’
+[taupe, -, -//-, -, taupeṃ] +naumyeṣṣe taupe ra ‘like a jewel mine’ (153a6= 154b6), taupe kraupe ṣe ysomo pernerñeṣe tatakau ‘[thou hast] become the sole mine and heap of glory’ (205b3). +∎TchA top ‘id.’ and B taupe reflect a PTch *teupe (as if) from PIE *d^houbo- (m.) ‘± that which is deep,’ a derivative of *d^heub- ‘deep’ [: Gothic diups ‘deep,’ Lithuanian dubùs ‘id.,’ daubà ‘ravine,’ duobė ‘pit, hole, cavity,’ dùbti ‘be hollow,’ Welsh dufn (< *d^hubni-) ‘deep,’ Illyrian dúbris ‘sea,’ Albanian dēt (< d^héubetos) ‘sea,’ etc. (P:267-268; MA:154)] (Krause and Thomas, 1960:57, VW:507). +See also tapre and tparṣke, and probably taupemaññe. +

+ + +
+

+taupemaññe +(n.) +‘?’
+[t]aupemaññe (Otani 9B-a3 [Couvreur, 1968:277]). Presumably a compound of taupe and -māññe ‘(dwelling) place,’ qq.v., but in the absence of any context, the exact meaning cannot be determined. Similar in formation are yärkemaññe, wasaṃpātmaññe, and wīnāmāññe. +

+ + +
+

+taur +(n.) +‘± dust, ashes’
+[taur, -, taur//] +pudñäktäṃñeñe pelaiknesa taur śār katnaṃ nakiṣṣe ‘over the Buddha's law he strews the dust of reproach’ (17b2), tuntse ṣarmtsa atāmo taur tweye mäsketrä pākri ‘for this reason infertile ground, dust, and ashes appear’ (K-8b2), mā cpī taurä mā tweye kektseñäśc ma wat tswetär nta ‘never does either dust or ashes stick to his body’ (K-10a3). + -- tauratstse* ‘± dusty’: (387.2). +∎TchA tor ‘id.’ and B taur reflect PTch *teur(ä) (as if) from a PIE *d^hou(h_x)-ro- (nt.) [: Russian durь ‘folly,’ Byelorussian dur ~ dura ‘giddiness, vertigo’], a derivative of *d^heu(h_x)- ‘move agitatedly’ (more s.v. täṃts-) as proposed by Lane (1938:27) and accepted by VW (508). Not with VW (1964) a borrowing from Altaic, cf. Mongol toro ‘dust.’ +See also täṃts-, tweye, tute, and to. +

+ + +
+

+tkā +See taka. +

+ + +
+

+tkācer +(nf.) +‘daughter; girl’
+[tkācer, -, tkātär//tkātärñ ~ tkacera, tkātär(n)ts, -] +tkātre petso aiṃ-ñ ‘he gave me [as] husband to [his] daughter’ (275b4), cwī no lānte tkācer mñcuṣka temtsate ‘to the king, however, was born a daughter, a princess’ (349b4), [śno]na klaina s_äsuwa tkacera ‘wives, women, sons, and daughters’ (364b4). +∎TchA ckācar and B tkācer reflect PTch *tkācer (in TchA the initial *t- has been assimilated to the *-c- of the following syllable) from PIE *d^hug(h_a)tēr [: Sanskrit duhitár-, Avestan dugədar-, Armenian dustr, Greek thugátēr, Oscan futír, Gaulish (Le Larzac) duxtir, Gothic dauhtar, Lithuanian duktė, OCS dъšti, Lycian kbatar, all ‘daughter’ (P:277; MA:147-148)] (VW:251-252). In TchB the genitive sg. tkātre reflects PIE *d^hug(h_a)trós (= Greek thugatrós) while the accusative sg. is as if from *d^hug(h_a)trṃ (cf. Latin patrem and mātrem). The nominative pl. tkātärñ presupposes an accusative pl. *tkātärn from PIE *d^hug(h_a)trṇs as in Latin patrēs and mātrēs. The other nominative plural tkācera is obviously build on the basis of the nominative singular. +

+ + +
+

+tne +See tane. +

+ + +
+

+tparṣke* +(adj.) +‘shallow’
+[m: -, -, tparṣke//] +snai-ptsa kätkre ra tparṣkemeṃ tparṣke ‘[for thee] the bottomless deep [is] like the shallow[est] of the shallow’ (Pe-2b4). + -- tparṣkäññe* ‘shallowness’: [tpa]rṣkäṃñene = BHS uttānatāṃ (H-149.47a4 [cf. Couvreur, 1966:162]). +∎Etymologically the diminutive of tapre, ‘tall,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tmāne +See t_umāne. +

+ + +
+

+traksiñ* +(n.[pl.]) +‘awns’
+[//-, -, traksiṃ] +mamepi ypantse traksiṃ pissauṣṣe kaṣāysa ... ṣpärkaṣṣälle ‘[one is] to dissolve the awns of ripe barley with a decoction of pissau’ (W-10a5/6). +∎TchB traksiñ reflects a PTch *trāksi- which, particularly if it also meant ‘beard’ (the extension of ‘beard’ to ‘awns’ is widely attested) may be a vṛddhied derivative within Tocharian from an earlier *träks- from PIE *d^hregh-s- ‘hair’ [: Greek thríks ‘hair, bristle’ (with the same change of *-e- to -i- we see in híppos ‘horse’ or khthizá ‘yesterday’), Middle Irish gairb-driuch ‘bristle’ (garb ‘rough’ + driuch < *dre/igu-), Iranian *drawa- ‘hair’ (cf. Khotanese drau, Shughni cīw, Ossetic ärdu, Yaghnobi daraw, Ashkun dro), if from earlier *drag-wa- (cf. Younger Avestan rəvi- (f.) ‘light (of weight)’ and rəgu- (m.) from *ragwi- and *ragu- respectively) (P:276; MA:252)] (Adams, 1988a:70 and 86, fn.6). +

+ + +
+

+tranko +(nnt.) +‘sin’
+[tranko, -, tranko//-, -, tränkonta] +[kä]tknaṃ tränkonta snai yarm ‘they commit countless sins’ (36b4), jñātikeṃ wāpatsi watkäṣäṃ mā tranko ‘if he orders a relative to weave; it [is] not a sin’ (H-149.37b5 [Thomas, 1954: 727]), [saṃ]ghāvaśeṣ trankosa skarraṃ ~ pāyti tranko kättankäṃ ‘[if] he accuses of a sanghāvaśeṣa-sin, he commits a pāyti-sin’ (H-149.337a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:50]), saswa ... po tränkonta tärkaucai ... weñmo ptāka-ñ onolmeṃ[ts ta]rko-ñ tranko ‘O lord, releaser of all sins, be my advocate with men; may they release my sin!’ (TEB-64-03). + -- tränkoṣṣe* ‘± prtng to a sin’ (241b4); +
+tränkossu ‘sinful’: yaṃ tränkossu mäsketär ‘[if] he goes, he is sinful’ (331b4); +
+snai-tränko ‘sinless’: [weweñu re]k[i] snai-tränko sū ṣek papāl[au] ‘a word spoken without sin, it [is] always praised’ (20a7), k_uce ñiś śtwer s_äsūwa ypoymeṃ lyautwa snai tränko ‘that I have driven [my] four sinless sons from the realm’ (PK-13E-a2 [Couvreur, 1954c:89]). +∎Probably with VW (512) we should take this word to be a nomen actionis from tränk- ‘lament.’ Thus we would have had originally *‘that which is lamented’ or the like. However, the semantic distance is a real difficulty for this derivation. It is at least possible that we should derive this word from PTch *tränk- ‘cling’ (in TchB trenk-, q.v., with generalization of a strong grade). If so, tranko would be ‘that which clings’ or ‘pollution.’ +

+ + +
+

+tranto* +only attested in the compound: tranto-naitwe ‘± swelling at the temple’:
+tranto-naitwe korne karkar yamaṣäṃ ‘it produces swelling-temple and cancer in the throat’ (ST-a5). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also träntātstse. +

+ + +
+

+tranmār +a distributive unit of measurement
+[list of ingredients] tranmār ... ‘each an X’ (W-4b2). + -- tranmāyar ‘id.’: [list of ingredients] toṃ tranmāyar (W-3b1). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+trākäm +(n.) +‘drachma (as unit of weight), dram’
+[trākäm, -, -//] +/// tanāñä ywā[r]c trau śakkār trākäm pissau trākäm ‘grains a half trau, sugar a drachma, pissau a drachma’ (W-11a6). +∎Ultimately from Greek drákhmē. +

+ + +
+

+trāpp- +(vi.) +‘trip, stumble’
+Ps. IV /troppo-/ [MPPart. troppomane]; Ko. V /trāppā-/ [A -, -, trāppaṃ//; Ger. trāppalle]; PP /tātrāppā-/ +stmau avaṣ( ̇)i [lege: se avaṣi] paiyn[esa] tkā ra trā[ppaṃ] (293b3), klyiye trāppaṃ ṣamānentsa śār kl[āyaṃ] ‘[if] a woman should trip over a monk and fall all over [him]’ (325a2); [tete]moṣepi tänki tärrekäntse trāppalle ra yāmornta [] tatrāppaṣepi klāyalñe ra śäktālye ‘a tripping by a man fully blind from birth [is] like deeds; the falling of one tripping [is] like the seed’ (PK-NS-53b4 [Pinault, 1988]:101). + -- tatrāpparmeṃ: alyekä kca warttoṣṣe makūltsa tatrāpparmeṃ rūpsa klāya ‘having tripped over some forest root or other he fell on [his] face’ (88a2/3). +∎TchA trap- and B trāpp- reflect PTch *trāpw- (present *trāpwe-, subjunctive *trāpwā-). The Tocharian word is probably (with VW:511) to be seen as a descendant of PIE *trep- ‘± trip, tramp, step’ [: Sanskrit tṛprá-, tṛpalá- ‘± hasty,’ Greek trapéō ‘crush grapes by trampling them,’ Latin trepidus ‘agitated, restless,’ trepidāre ‘be agitated, be busy, bustle about,’ Old English þrafian ‘restrain, reprove; urge, press,’ Old Saxon thrabon ‘trot, jog along,’ Lithuanian trepsėti ‘trample,’ Russian tropát' ‘trample’ (P:1094)]. +

+ + +
+

+trāsk- +See tresk-. +

+ + +
+

+trä ̇ārñe* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, trä ̇ārñe//] +māka cmelane su trä ̇ārñe pätkārñeścä yāmor yamasträ ‘in many lives the deed will be done out of trä ̇ārñe and disassociation’ (42b3). +

+ + +
+

+tränk- +(vt.) +‘lament’
+Ps. I /tränk-/ [MPPart. trankmane]; Ko. I (or II?) /tränk(^'ä/_e)-/: trañci (H-149.69b2 [K]); Pt. Ia /träñcā/ +snai saim nese_u te träṅmane /// ‘I am without refuge; lamenting it ...’ (225b3); /// [p]ātärś ram no s_äsuwerśke cau la[kle] po träñcā-neś ‘like the son to the father he cried out to him all [his] pain’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1968b:212]). + -- tränkalyñe: Uttari mñcuṣkeṃtse tränkalyñe ‘the lament of prince U.’ (89b4). +∎TchA tränk-, which forms the suppletive present to ‘say,’ and B tränk- reflect PTch *tränk- but extra-Tocharian connections are less certain. VW (512-513) sees PTch *tränk- as a reflex of PIE *d^hrenk- ‘± ring out’ [: Armenian dṙnčim ‘trumpet, ring [a bell],’ Bulgarian drъnkam ‘resound, make ring; chatter,’ Old Irish drécht ‘song, story’], itself an élargissement of d^hren- with the same meaning (cf. P:255-256; MA:395). Also possible, it would seem to me, is Pedersen's suggestion (1941:162) of a connection with Lithuanian trinkėti ‘resound’ (cf. P:1093). Finally, in an earlier context VW suggested that the Tocharian word might be a borrowing from Iranian, particularly Pehlevi dranǰ- ‘speak.’ While it would seem phonologically impossible to be a borrowing from one group to the other, there is no reason (except for the isolation of the term in Iranian) that the Iranian and Tocharian might not be reflexes of the same PIE *DrenG- ‘speak.’ +

+ + +
+

+träntātstse* +(adj.) +‘± swollen’
+[-, -, träntācce//] +träntācce käntwāśkesa - - - - [pälwā]mane weṣṣäṃ ‘with a swollen little tongue, bewailing, he says’ (85b3). +∎Presumably an adjectival derivative of tranto, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+träphāl +(n.) +‘the three myrobalans’ (a medical ingredient)
+[träphāl ~ träppāl, -, -//] +(W passim). + -- träphāltse ‘possessing tṛphalā’: (P-1b6). +∎From BHS tṛphalā- (< triphalā-). +

+ + +
+

+trik- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘go astray, be confused’ [PP as noun = ‘fool, dolt’]; ¹K Intr. (Act.) ‘err, make a mistake’ [NOUN-sa trik- ‘err because of,’ ytāri trik- ‘mistake the way; do wrong’]; Tr. (Act.) ‘mistake, make a mistake of; lead astray’; ²K Act. ‘lose; lead astray’; Midd. ‘be lost, get lost, go astray’
+G Ps. III /trike-/ [MP -, -, triketär//; Ger. trikelle]; Ko. V /trikā-/ (see abstract); Pt. I /trikā-/ [A -, -, trika//]; PP /triko-/; +
+¹K Ps. VII /triks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, trikṣäṃ// -, -, trikseṃ]; Ko. II /trik^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, triśäṃ// -, triścer, trikeṃ; AOpt. triśim, -, triśi//; MPOpt. triśimar, -, -//; Ger. triśalle]; Pt. III /treik(sā)-/ [A -, -, traiksa//]; PP /tetriku-/; +
+²K Pt. II /trāikā-/ [MP -, -, traikate//]; PP /tetriku-/ +ce cmelṣe yarke petisa triketär ramt aknātsa onwaññe śaul paktär ‘because of honor and flattery of this birth the fool is confused and thinks life immortal’ (31b3); trik[au] l[ak]l[esa] ‘confused because of suffering’ (15a1), [käly]m[iṃne ñäś] tetrīku po trikau nesau lakle[sa] ‘in direction I have gone astray; because of suffering I have become completely confused’ (17a2), trikau nest = Pali mūḷho ‘si (H-149-ADD.8a6 [Thomas, 1957:250]); sn[ai] parwā lestaimeṃ tsānkaṃ su kl[ā]y[aṃ] n[o] k[eṃ]tsa wiñcaññe śa[r]wa[r]ñ[e]sa tr[i]kṣäṃ ‘without feathers he will rise from the nest and he will fall, however, on the ground; he makes a mistake because of [his] wiñcaññe pride’ (282b1), maimtsa trikseṃ duśśīläñe yamaskeṃ ‘they err in judgment and show immorality’ (K-8al); /// eśnesa menkitse [su] tkā ra [t]rīśäṃ aiśaumye ce_u nakse[nträ] /// ‘he [is] lacking eyes; thus the wiseman will lead [him] astray and they reproach him’ (293b1), duśśīlñesa trīkeṃ ‘they err out of bad character’ (K-7b3), te keklyauṣormeṃ epastyaññe yänmācer yāmornta yāmtsi mā ṣpä triścer makā-ykne ‘having heard this, you will achieve skill and will not make the mistake of doing manifold deeds’ (K-2a5), poyś[i]ññeṃ kauñäktentso pärkālñe triśim manta ‘may I never mistake the dawning of the Buddha-suns!’ (S-6b6), poyśiññeṣṣai ekṣalymeṃ mā triśīmar källoym ṣpä os[tm]e[ṃ lantsi] ‘may I not wander away from the parousia of the Buddha! may I achieve the leaving of [my] house! [= may I become a monk]’ (S-8b4); [ṣe]mi wnolmi tetrikoṣ ytariṃ ṣeṃ aknātsaññesa ‘some beings [had] mistaken [their] ways out of ignorance’ (29b5); ///kormeṃ is[ta]k traikane [lege: traikate] ‘suddenly he was lost’ [?] (90b3); ente tetriku se śaiṣṣe ‘if this world [has] gone astray’ [= BHS yatra mūḍham idaṃ jagat] (148a4), saṃsāräṣṣe karāśne ce tetrikoṣä ‘having led it [scil. the world] astray in the saṃsāra-forest’ (212a4). +‣The first "causative" is essentially an intensive of the Grundverb while the second "causative" is more truly a causative in that it makes the underlying verb transitive. However, there is a good deal of overlap in meaning between the Grundverb and both "causatives." + -- trikalyñe ‘± confusion’: te keś tattaṃ ṣañ palskontse tri[kalyñe] (102a5), mentsi kukäṣälyñe pälskontse ra trikalyñe (284a6); +
+trikelye* ( = trikelñe) ‘± error’ (?): mot māla trikelyesa śakse yokäṃ pāyti ‘[if] one drinks alcohol, an inebriating drink, [or] brandy [even] by error, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b2 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]); +
+triśalñe ‘mistake, error’: ṣe waikesa nraine t_änmastär wate ṣañ triśal[ñesa] ‘the first is reborn in hell because of [his] lie, the second because of his own mistake’ (18a4), triśälyñenta = BHS skhalitani (545b2). +∎AB trik- reflect PTch *trik- which is plausibly related by VW (514-515) to the otherwise isolated Latin trīcae ‘trifles, nonsense; vexations, troubles’ with its derived, denominative, verbs: trīcārī ‘make difficulties; shuffle; trifle,’ intrīcāre ‘confuse, entangle’ and extrīcāre ‘disentangle, unravel.’ The Tocharian verb is not denominative. Together the Latin and Tocharian words might be from a PIE *treik- or *tr(e)ih_xk- ‘± be tangled, confused.’ +See also traike, atraikatte, and trikṣo. +

+ + +
+

+trikṣo* +(n.) +‘± error, mistake’
+[//-, -, trikṣaṃ] +saswa poyśi=ñmālaṣka po tränkonta tärkaucai trikṣaiṃ wnolmets ‘O lord, omniscient and merciful, releaser of all sins and errors of beings!’ (TEB-64-03). +∎A nomen actionis of the first "causative" of trik-, q.v. Similar in formation is lukṣaitstse ‘brilliant,’ an adjective built to an unattested noun lukṣai- from luk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+trīcīwär +(n.) +‘the three vestments of a Buddhist monk’
+(22a8). +∎From BHS tricīvara-. +

+ + +
+

+trite +(adj.) +‘third’
+[m.: trite, tricepi, trice (~ triceṃ)//] [nt. -, -, trite//] +trīce ślok weña ‘he spoke the third śloka’ (20b4), pärweṣṣe dhyāno wace dhyāno trice dhyāno śtarce dhyāno (333b6), tāy no trite kauṃ ṣai ~ eśuwacca mäskīträ ‘now it was the third day for her [that] she had eaten nothing’ (H-149.X.5a4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- tritesa ‘for the third time’ (25b3); +
+triteṣṣe* ‘± prtng to a third, of the third degree’ (?): /// [tri]teṣṣa eṣka [lege: eṃṣke] ṣuk tänktsi (327b4). +∎Penney (1976/77[78]:83) suggests that TchA trit and B trite reflect older *tri and *triye respectively (from PTch *triye, PIE *triyos), both rebuilt with the usual ordinal forming suffix -t and -te. There seems no reason, if we start from an original PIE *triyos, not to assume that the rebuilding had not been already accomplished in PTch [: the various reformations of original *triyo- in Sanskrit tṛtīya-, Avestan θritya-, Latin tertius (< *trityo-), Gothic þridja, Lithuanian trẽčias, Albanain tretë, Greek trítos, all ‘third’ (P:1091; MA:400-401)]. Cf. also Winter, 1991:135. VW (514) equates PTch *trite exactly with Greek trítos but in actuality the vowels do not agree. The PTch *-i must reflect *-ī- or *-ei- while Greek -i- can only be from *-i-. +See also trai. +

+ + +
+

+Tripuṣkar* +(n.) +‘Tripuṣkara’ (PN of a place)
+[-, -, Tripuṣkar//] +(36a6). +

+ + +
+

+triw- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be mixed, get mixed, mingle’; K ‘mix; shake’
+G Ps. III /triwe-/ [MP -, -, triwetär//]; Ko. V /triwā-/ [MP -, -, triwātär//; Inf. triwātsi]; Ipv. I /pätriwā-/ [Sg. pätrīwa]; Pt. I /triwā-/ [A // -, -, triwāre]; PP /triwo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /triwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, trīwäṣṣäṃ//; MPPart. triwäskemane; Ger. triwäṣṣälle]; Pt. II /trāiwā-/ [MP -, traiwatai, -//]; PP /tetriwu-/ +/// wertsyaṃmpa kattākeṃmpa triwe[tär] /// ‘with the retinues he mingled with householders’ (26a8); pätrīwa [with causative force] (H-149-ADD.194b4 [K]); eṣe triwāre kattākäṃñai wertsyaimpa (PK-AS16.3b2 [Pinault, 1989]); tärkoṣ ārte allonkna cmela triwoṣ attsaik kattākeṃmp=eṣe ‘the other birth-forms apathetically mingled only with householders’ (31b6); /// kr_ui tumpa trīwaṣṣäṃ tuntse ekälym[i] mäs[k]e[tär] /// (336a3), mā ātsene trīwaskemane osne yänmaṣälle ‘[one is] not to enter a house, shaking the shoulders’ (322b3), kuñcītäṣṣe ṣalypesa triwäṣle ‘[it is] to be mixed with sesame oil’ (W-31b2); täryāka-ṣūkt sāṃtkentampa traiywatai twe [] sāṃtk=onwaññe swāreṃ krent pelaikneṣṣe ‘thou hast mixed with the thirty-seven remedies the immortal and good remedy of righteousness’ (212b2/3); kluṣṣa witsako mitämpa tetriwoṣ kluṣṣe warsa yokalle ‘rice-root mixed with honey [is] to be drunk with rice water’ (Y-1a1). + -- triwālñe* ‘± mixture’: māka klautkentsa triwālñentse naknama a[kṣ]ā-[n]e (358b6). +
+triwäṣṣälñe ‘± mixing’: ṣäṃṣalñe sū tne westrä piś klautkeṃntsa ṣäṃṣalñe | menki olypo trīwäṣlñe astarñe ṣpä ‘this counting is called under five forms: counting [in sensu stricto], less, more, mixing, and purity’ (41a7/8). +∎TchA triw- and B triw- would appear to reflect a PTch *trīw-/träiw-. The doubt about the PTch reconstruction arises from the presence in A of a participle tattripu, occuring once in a very fragmentary context (455a4: /// sāṃtkäntuyo tattripu /// which could mean ‘mixed with remedies’). If this form belongs here, then we should reconstruct a PTch *träip- with, as sometimes happens in both languages a change of intervocalic *-p- to -w-. In either case, the closest external cognate would be Greek trībō (aorist passive étribēn) ‘rub, thresh; pound, knead; wear out’ where the long vowel is secondary [: also Latin trīvī and trītum the preterite and past participle respectively of terō ‘rub, whet, smooth, grind’ (cf. P:1071-72 with other, more distant, cognates and possible cognates)]. If we reconstruct *träip- in Proto-Tocharian, then the Greek and Tocharian are an exact match. If the correct reconstruction is *träiw- then Greek and Tocharian agree in PIE *trei- but have different élargissements (so VW:515). +See also traiwo and trīwaitstse*. +

+ + +
+

+trīwaitstse* +(n.) +‘± containing a mixture’
+[f: //-, triwaitstsānaṃts, -] +weñau ... krenta yolainaṃts ślek trīwaitstsānaṃts rano ‘I will speak of good [deeds] and evil together with those mixed together’ (K-2a5). +∎An adjective which looks to be derived from an unattested noun *trīwo, a doublet of the attested traiwo, itself derived from the verb triw-. +See also triw- and traiwo. +

+ + +
+

+truk- +(vt.) +‘± assign, allot; give’
+Ps. VI /truknā-/ [Ger. truknālle]; Ko. V /trukā-/ [Ger. trukālle] +te päkṣalle se [ṣa]lype prayoksa truknālle klā - - ts sāṃtke ‘it [is] to be cooked; this salve [is] to be given as remedy; [it is] a medicament for ...’ (497b5); /// ikäṃ-ñu-ne śle trukāle kantiś yikṣye ok tom piś sankäṃ klese klese /// ‘on the twenty-ninth, likewise the allotment (?) is flour for bread, eight tau and five ṣank’ (433a4). +∎If the meaning is correct, probably with VW (516) to PIE *truk- ‘cut (off)’ seen in Welsh trwch ‘broken,’ trychu ‘cut’ (< *truk-s-), and Lithuanian trūkti (trūkstu) ‘break, rend; burst, explode.’ Possibly here also are the families of German drucken ‘press’ and drohen ‘threaten’ (cf. P:1074). +See also possibly trokol. +

+ + +
+

+trus- +(vt.) +‘± lacerate, tear to pieces, mangle’
+Ps. II /trus^'ä/_e-/ [A // -, -, truseṃ] +trusen-me (H-ADD.149.77b1 [K]). +∎If the meaning is correct, VW (516) is probably right in seeing a connection with Greek thraúō ‘break in pieces, shatter,’ thrūlíkthē ‘be broken, shattered’ (< *d^hrusliK-/d^hrūsliK-), Welsh dryll ‘fragment’ (< *d^hruslio-). The exact PIE preform is difficult. Greek thraúō looks to be from *d^hreh_aus- and thrūlíkhthē could reflect *d^hruh_as- (with laryngeal metathesis) but could equally well be from *d^hrus- with no laryngeal, and it is the latter that must lie behind Welsh dryll. Cf. P:274-275 for other possible cognates, all semantically fairly divergent. +

+ + +
+

+trekte +(adj.) +‘big, great’
+/// aiśamñe ci po śārsa lykaśke trekte /// (239a4), Akṣobhe tretke [sic] memis ̇/// (367b6). +‣The formation is the same as its antonym yekte. +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps with VW (514) a derivative of PIE *d^hereg^h- ~ *d^hereǵ^h- ‘hold fast to’ if the antecedent of trekte originally meant ‘firm, solid.’ +See also trenk-. +

+ + +
+

+trenk- +(vi.) +‘adhere, cling, stick’
+Ps. IXa /trenkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, trenkastär// -, -, trenkaskentär; Ger. trenkaṣṣälle]; Ko. I /trenk-/ [MPOpt. treñcīmar, -, -//]; Pt. IIIa /trenk(sā)-/ [MP -, -, trenksate//]; PP /tetrenku-/. +/// anāsrap cetaṃ avyākṛtne trenkasträ (200b4), /// sparśänta trenkaskeṃtär ‘the touches adhere’ (171b3), [mā] skwanmane trenkaṣle ‘[he is] not to adhere to good fortunes’ (592b4); sapulempa menāk ksa [lege: menāksa] karsoym kektseñ kautātstsai mā ṣ treñcī[mar] ‘may I know my breakable body [to be] like a pot; may I not cling [to it]!’ (S-5a3); klīye rano trenksate rūpn=eṅwentse ‘the woman clung to the form of the man’ (9b4), oṣle pākre klainämpa kca treṅsate ‘oṣle and pākre he clung to some woman or other’ (69a2). +∎TchA tränk- and B trenk- reflect PTch *tränk-. In B the full-grade (in PIE terms either *-ē- or *-o-) has been extended throughout the paradigm. PTch *tränk- is presumably from PIE *d^hreng^h-/d^hrenǵ^h-, a nasalized variant of *d^hereg^h-/d^hereǵ^h- ‘hold fast to,’ itself an élargissement of *d^her- ‘id.’ [: Avestan drənǰaiti ‘strengthens, fixes,’ ādrənǰayeiti ‘makes fast,’ Sanskrit dṛṃháti ‘id.,’ and, without the nasal, Avestan dražaite ‘holds,’ OCS drъžǫ ‘hold, have within,’ Sanskrit dṛhyati ‘makes fast,’ etc. (P:254)] (VW:513). +See also etrenkätte, trenkäl, and trenke and perhaps tranko and trekte. +

+ + +
+

+trenkäl* +(n.) +‘clinging; (worldly) attachment’
+[-, -, trenkäl/-, -, trenkalwi/-, -, trenkalwa] +klaiñ=eṅwaññe ṣotrūnimeṃ po trenkalwa wīkäṣṣäṃ ‘from female and male characteristics he makes all attachments disappear’ (8a6), snai trenkäl snai krämpālyñetse = BHS asangam anapragraham (251b2). + -- trenkalwatstse* ‘± having attachments’ (137b5) +∎A nomen actionis from trenk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+trenke* +(n.) +‘clinging, worldly attachment’
+[-, -, trenke//] +pañai trenke cmelaṣṣe tnek [k]lautkäsi [yatäṃ ṣpä] ‘and here he might be able to turn the clinging to birth pañai’ (554a6). +∎A nomen actionis from trenk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tremi +(n.[pl. tant.]) +‘anger’
+[//tremi, tremeṃts, tremeṃ] +śarsa tw=ārṣāklo ce_u mā k_uṣānti yāmṣäṃ ñiś tremeṃñ pruśiya ‘the snake recognized this and she did not forgive him, [thinking]: out of anger he was always avoiding me’ (42a5), śle tremeṃ [brā]hmaṇe weṣṣäṃ ‘the brahman speaks angrily’ (90b4), tremeñ [sic] (123a5), tremeṃ kakāwo[rmeṃ] = BHS krodhaṃ hatvā (U-13b3). + -- treme(ṃ)ṣṣe ‘prtng to anger, angry’: onolmi tremeṣṣi mantāl[ai]cci [c]ai ‘these angry, evil-minded beings’ (575b1). +∎The plural tremi presupposes an stem *treme- from PTch *treme- this noun is a deverbative derivative of *tärm- ‘be angry, furious’ which doesn't appear in TchB but does in TchA. The PTch *teme- is a reflex of PIE *tromo-, a nominal derivative of *trem- ‘tremble’ [: Greek trémō ‘tremble, quake,’ trómos (m.) ‘trembling, quaking,’ troméō ‘tremble,’ Latin tremō ‘id.,’ Albanian tremb ‘scare, startle, shock, frighten’ (< *‘cause to tremble,’ the -b is unoriginal), Lithuanian trìmti ‘tremble violently, shudder,’ trémti ‘exile, banish,’ OCS tręsǫ ‘shake,’ TchA tärm- ‘be furious’ (< *‘tremble with anger’), etc. (P:1092-1093; MA:509)] (VW:514). VW rightly emphasizes the exact equation between TchB tremi and Greek trómos. +

+ + +
+

+tresk- +(vt.) +‘chew’
+Ps. II /tresk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, treṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. V /trāskā-/ [Ger. trāskalle*] +mātārä srukalyñeṣṣe koyn kakāyau tekiṣṣeṃ kemeṃtsa po treṣṣäṃ śaiṣṣe ‘the Makara, gaping [his] mouth of death, chews the whole world with teeth of disease’ (282b4); ṣañ ṣarsa trās[k]alye ~ tsāltalye eñcīträ [trāskalye = BHS khādanīya-] (H-149.X.5a6/b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎Tresk- reflects an early PTch *trek-sk- where *-sḱe/o-, originally proper only to the present, has been extended throughout the paradigm. PTch *trek-sk- reflects a PIE *treg- ‘± eat, munch’ seen otherwise in Greek trōgō ‘gnaw, nibble, munch; eat [fruit]’ (aorist trag-), trōks (gen. trōgós) ‘weevil’ (< ‘one who gnaws’), Armenian t`urc (gen. t`rcoy) ‘jaw’ (VW: 511-512; MA:175). The PTch *trek- reflects either *trēg- or *trog-. If we are to judge by its probable parallelism with ²nāsk- ‘± eat,’ q.v., the PIE shape would have been *trog-. +

+ + +
+

+trai +(number) +‘three’
+[m: trai ~ trey, -, trai ~ trey] [f: tarya, taryaṃts, tarya] +tary=akṣā-ne pudñäkte teki ktsaitsñe srukalñe ‘the Buddha announced to him the three: sickness, old-age, death’ (5a6), ṣäṃṣalñe ṣe wī trai śtwer piś śak täṅtsi ‘counting [is] one, two, three, four, five, up to ten’ (41a8), trey śaiṣṣ[eṃ]s käṣṣi ... trey jaṭil[ap]ūrvakaṃ ṣamāneṃ ... tarya orotstsana pratiharinta (108b3/4), traiy meñantse-ne ‘on the third of the month’ (433a14). + -- täryā-aiśamñe ‘threefold wisdom’: täryā-aiśamñe tākoy ‘may there be three-fold wisdom!’ (31a6); +
+tärya-cmelaṣṣe ‘one of the three births’ (407b4); +
+täryā-yäkne ‘three-fold’: täryā-yäkne = BHS tridhānye (175a4), [täryā-yä]kne = BHS trividhaṃ (197a6) [[>]the native TchB equivalent of traidhātuk, q.v.]; +
+trai-eśaiṃ ‘having three eyes’ (H-149.295b2); +
+treya-meskeṃ ‘having three joints, composed of three parts’: treya-meskeṃ = BHS trisaṃndhi (148a1); +
+treya-saim ‘± having three refuges’ (148a2). +∎TchA tre (m.), tri (f.), and B trai/tarya reflect PTch *trey and *täryā respectively. As to *trey, it must be (as if) from PIE *tróyes, influenced no doubt by *k^wetwóres ‘four.’ One may compare OCS troji ‘a threesome’ with the same *-o- and TchA taryāk ‘thirty’ which has obviously been modeled on A śtwarāk ‘forty’ (B täryāka preserves the more original form). A PIE *tróyes may also be seen in Avestan θrāyō ‘three’ and certain Modern Indic forms of three, e.g. Lahndā trāe (cf. Emmerick, 1991:294, Turner, 1966:#5994). In addition, PTch *trey may be exactly equatable with Albanian tre (m.), though the latter may also be derived from *tréyes. This *tróyes has replaced the earlier and more widespread *tréyes [: Sanskrit tráyaḥ (m.), Greek (treĩs (m./f.), Latin trēs (m./f.), Old Irish tri (m.), Old Norse þrīr (m.), OCS trji (m.), Lithuanian trýs (m./f.), etc. (P:1090-1091; MA:400)]. +
+The feminine *täryā must be (1) from an analogical feminine plural *triyās such as is seen in Old Norse þrijor (so VW), (2) the PIE neuter *trih_a (so Normier, 1989:257, Winter, 1991:105), but only if a final *-h_a gave PTch *-ā rather than lengthening the preceding *-i; cf. Sanskrit trī [nt.], Albanian tri [f.] (older an dialectal trī from *tri + -ë, the ending found in pesë ‘five,’ gjashtë ‘six,’ etc.), Greek tría [nt.], OCS tri [f./nt.]) or, (3) more likely, from a rebuilt neuter *trieh_a seen for instance in Latin tria or Old Norse þriū (< Proto-Germanic *þriyā). There is no trace of the original PIE feminine *tis(o)res [: Sanskrit tisráḥ (f.) or Old Irish téoir (f.)]. The etymology is to be found in VW:513-514, based in Smith, 1910:17, though details differ. +See also trite, täryāka, and taryältse. +

+ + +
+

+traike +(nm.) +‘confusion, delusion’
+[traike, -, traike//-, -, traikeṃ] +weña pūdñäkte ... tarya śpālmeṃ ślokanma ñwecceṃts traike wikässi[ś] ‘the Buddha spoke the three excellent ślokas to banish the confusion of the novices’ (5b7), [te-yäkne]sa cai trikoṣ traikentsa waiptār ṣeṃ ‘thus were these confused by delusions’ (24b4). +∎A nomen actionis from the Grundverb of trik-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+traicīvarīkäññe* +(n.) +‘one who wears the three Buddhist vestments’ (?)
+[-, traicīvarikäññentse, -//] +(561a5). +∎From a BHS *traicīvarika- ‘prtng to one who wears the three Buddhist vestments’? Not in M-W or Edgerton. +

+ + +
+

+traidhātuk +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘threefold’
+(203b5=204a4). +∎From BHS traidhātuka-. The equivalent of native täryā-yäkne, s.v. trai. +

+ + +
+

+traividye +(adj.) +‘having three-fold wisdom’
+[m: traividye, -, -//] +toṃ tary=aiśamñenta | eru ka tākaṃ poyśints=ākalṣle traividye ñem arhānte msketär ‘only [if] he has called up these three wisdoms is he the Buddha's pupil and an arhat with the name of three-fold wisdom’ (31b1). +∎From BHS traividya-. +

+ + +
+

+traiwo +(n.) +‘mixture’
+[traiwo, -, -//] +traiwo = BHS traivṛta- (Y-2a6). + -- traiwoṣṣe ‘prtng to a mixture’ (W-9a2). +∎A nomen actionis from triw-, q.v. (as if from PTch *treiwā-). +

+ + +
+

+traiṣäle +‘?’
+///ṣṣe traiṣäle läl[ñ]e p[r]eke (281b6). +

+ + +
+

+trokol +(n.) +‘± provisions’
+[trokol, -, -//] +/// masa tarya tom trokol wi tom pi[ś] ṣankäṃ (441a3). +∎Identical in formation to the *yotkol ‘command’ (a derivative of wätk-) which underlies the agent noun yotkolau ‘± director.’ Probably a derivative of truk-, q.v., if the latter has been properly identifed as ‘apportion, allot; give.’ +

+ + +
+

+tronk* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘hollow; cave [?]’
+[-, -, tronk//tronkanma (K-T), -, -] +ṣlentse tronkne lyam=ompalskoññe ‘in a hollow of the mountain he sat [in] meditation’ (4b7), /// troṅne enenka ‘within a hollow/cave (?)’ (46b5), karuṇaṣṣe tronk prutk[a]r ‘fill up the hollow of pity!’ (TEB-64-08). + -- tronktse (adj.) ‘hollow’: onmiṣṣana pwārasa tsäksemane marmanma tronktse stām ra ‘vessels burning with the fires of remorse like a hollow tree’ (TEB-64-05). +∎TchB tronk is clearly the cognate of A trunk ‘id.’ but extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are unclear. VW (516) takes these Tocharian words to be the equivalent of Latin truncus (adj.) ‘maimed, mutilated, cut short’ and truncus (noun) ‘a lopped tree, trunk of a tree; trunk of human body,’ with both the Tocharian and the Latin from a PIE *trunko-, a derivative of *treuk- ‘cut’ (s.v. TchB truk-). However, the Tocharian forms demand a *trunku- (or *trūnk-) and the semantic equation is weak. Emphasizing the need for an u-stem Hilmarsson (1984[85]:32) suggests a derivation from PIE *tronku- ‘narrow’ (cf. Old Norse þǫngr) but again the semantic equation is poor. In Hilmarsson 1986 (pg. 22), he takes it to be from a PIE *d^hrong^hu- which he related to Old Norse drangr ‘rock, monolith’ (< *d^hrong^ho-) and Modern Icelandic dröngull ‘cylinder, icicle’ (presupposing PGmc *drangu-), as ‘cave’ and ‘rock’ are often associated (cf. Icelandic hellir ‘cave,’ hella ‘rock’). In both cases Hilmarsson assumes that TchA trunk results from the u-umlaut of *tränku < *tranku (cf. both wänt and want ‘wind’ beside B yente). However, his rule whereby a TchA sequence of -a- followed by resonant and stop becomes -ä- plus resonant and stop is restricted to Tocharian A while u-umlaut, shared by both A and B, would appear to be of Proto-Tocharian date. +
+Alternatively it is possible that we have a putative PIE *truh_x-m-iko- (nt.), a derivative of the verbal noun such as we see in Greek trũma or trūmē ‘hole.’ The underlying verb is trúō, mostly attested in the perfect passive, e.g. tétrūmai ‘I am worn out.’ One should also compare átrūtos ‘inde-fatigable, unwearied, unworn out.’ Outside of Greek we have OCS tryti ‘rub, thresh, grind, pound’ and Lithuanian trūnėti ‘putrify, rot, decay.’ The antecedent PIE verb *truh_x- would have been something on the order of ‘wear down’ (whence ‘hollow out’). +See also possibly truk-. +

+ + +
+

+trau +(n.) +a measure of capacity
+[trau, -, -//traunta, -, -] +warä yäl[tse] ṣkas traunta ‘water, 1006 trau’ (497a3), corak traunta 10 malkwerne pä[kṣalle] ‘corak 10 trau in milk [is] to be cooked’ (FS-a4). +∎Etymology unknown. Not with VW (511) connected with *dru- ‘tree, oak.’ More likely trau is a borrowing, as are other measure words, though no immediate source is obvious. +

+ + +
+

+tvānkaro +(n.) +‘ginger’ (a medical ingredient)
+[tvānkaro, -, tvānkarai//tvānkarañ, -, -] +(497a7, Y passim). + -- tvānkaratstse* ‘having ginger’: tvānkaracce warsa yokalle ‘with ginger water [it is] to be drunk’ (Y-1a6). +∎From Khotanese ttuṃgare. +

+ + +
+

+twā- +See tu-. +

+ + +
+

+twānk- +(vt.) +‘± wear’ (or ‘don’ or ‘doff’?)
+PP /tātwānkā-/ +keṃtsa t[ane ñiś lyakau] kotstseṃts parwa tat[w]ānkau mā ket rāññe ‘I lie here on the ground twānk-ing the feathers of the kotstses, belonging to no one’ (89a4), /// tatwānkau tapovaṃ-varttoś [sic] ya/// [lege: yaṃ?] ‘twānk-ing ... he goes towards the tapovana-grove’ (90a1). +‣Twānk- is also to be found in TchA but there to the attestations are very fragmentary. A present is to be found at 182a3: ///ntwaṃ twānkatr aśśuk /// (is aśśuk the equivalent of B aṃśūk from BHS aṃśuka- ‘[upper] garment’?) and the preterite participle at 74b3: s_ukaṃ śāśo ṣeṣ kārkäryāṣi wsāl tātwä/// ‘he was living in good fortune twānk-ing clothes of a penitent’ and 138a6: ///l tā[t]wänkuṣ amāñi /// (should ///l be restored as wsāl?). In the one clear example twānk- takes as its direct object a noun meaning ‘clothing.’ Moreover, in the two more fragmentary attestations it is possible that it also takes clothing or articles of clothing as its direct object. +
+This verb in both TchA and B has traditionally been glossed by "einzwängen" (‘force in, confine, constrain’) but none of the contexts in which it appears, be it in A or in B, forces such a meaning. Indeed, none of the contexts seems even very compatible with such a meaning. It is possible that Krause and Thomas' adoption of such a meaning was influenced by the phonologically parallel zwingen and zwängen. In the clearest situation the direct object is ‘clothing’ and such a direct object suggests that the verb itself might have meant ‘wear’ or ‘don’ or ‘doff.’ +∎TchA twānk- and B twānk- reflect a PTch *twānk-. If the meaning ‘wear’ is correctly established, VW (518) is probably right, though he starts from a meaning ‘force in’ or the like, in seeing this word the cognate of Greek sáttō ‘pack (in), load, equip with,’ sagē (f.) ‘pack, baggage; harness, equipment,’ ságma (nt.) ‘covering, clothing; large cloak.’ Together the Greek and Tocharian suggest a PIE *twa(n)k- (cf. P:1098). Morphologically all the forms attested in either Tocharian language are consistent with the reconstruction of a PTch *twānkā-, itself from an earlier *twenk-ā-, a denominative of an early PIE *twenke. This *twenke would be a nominal-ization of *twänk-. +

+ + +
+

+twār +(adv.) +‘± consequently’
+tumeṃ Candramukhe w[alo] ṣecakecce asānne ṣmemane twār ṣpä Araṇemiṃ werpiśkacce cä[rkenta] /// (91b5), mā ṣṣe nta kca cmelane ñem ra klyaussi kälpāwa twār ṣ postaññe krent käṣṣintsa menkitse yolaiñesa mā ṣṣe nta aṣkār śmāwa ‘not a single time in births did I hear the name; and consequently later, lacking a good teacher, by evil, not a single time did I come back’ (TEB-64-09). +∎Etymology unknown. It would be possible, perhaps, to see in twār TchB tu, the neuter nominative-accusative singular corresponding to to su ‘this one,’ q.v., plus the same suffix we see in distributive numbers such as wyār ‘by twos’ or in waiptayār ‘separately, individually’ but neither morphologically (this suffix is not otherwise found added to a pronoun) nor semantically is this explanation very satisfying. In any case, not with VW (519) should we see in B twār a borrowing from an unattested TchA *twār (from a supposed PIE *duweh₄ro-), itself related to Greek dērós ‘of long duration’ (< *dweh₄-ró-), Sanskrit dūrá- ‘distant’ (< *duh₄-ró-). There are neither semantic nor phono-logical reasons for presuming such a relationship. +

+ + +
+

+twe +See tuwe. +

+ + +
+

+tweye +(n.) +‘± dust, ashes’
+[tweye, -, -//-, -, tweyeṃ] +/// akāśäś ramt taur t[w]eye ‘toward the air like dust and ashes’ (15b8), tweyen = BHS rajāṃsi (545b1), tuntse ṣarmtsa atāmo taur tweye mäsketrä pākri ‘because of this, infertile ground, dust and ashes, appears’ (K-8b2). + -- tweyetstse* ‘dusty’: tweyecci = BHS rajāsvalaḥ (545a3/4). +∎TchA twe and B tweye reflect PTch *tweye (as if) from PIE *d^hwoyo-, a derivative of *d^heu(h_x)- ‘rise in the air (like dust)’ (P:261-263; MA:388) In particular one might compare Lithuanian dujà (f.) ‘fine dust, fine rain, vapor,’ dujė ‘down (of a bird),’ and Khotanese duya- if the latter means ‘dusty’ (VW:519). +See also taur and täṃts-. +

+ + +
+

+twere* +(nm.) +‘door’
+[-, -, twere//tweri, -, ] +onwaññentse se twere tīkṣṇendryets ‘this [is] the door of immortality for those having sharp senses’ (41a5), sā_u tweres[a] wäto kälyi[tär] ‘again she was standing by the door’ (570b1), kete āñme tākaṃ tweri ruwyenträ ... tweri rusenträ ‘whoever has the desire: may doors open! ... the doors open’ (M-3b1), tw[e]rene kälträ ‘he stands at the door’ (PK-12G-a3 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]). +∎TchB twere reflects PTch *twere from *d^hworo-, a derivative of PIE *d^hwor- ‘door, gate.’ In PIE there was apparently a feminine consonant stem *d^hwor-/d^hwṛ-, a plural or dual tantum, meaning ‘door’ (perhaps more particularly the two leaves of a double door) [: Sanskrit dvāraḥ (nom. f. pl.), duráḥ (acc. f. pl.), dvārau (dual) ‘door’ (the loss of aspiration, however it is to be explained, is secondary), Avestan dvarəm (acc. sg. m.) ‘gate, door,’ Armenian durk` (nom. pl.) ‘door,’ Greek thúrā (f.sg.) ‘door,’ Albanian derë (f.sg.) ‘door’ (< *d^hwōreh_a-), Latin foris (f.sg.) ‘door,’ and forā- in the adverbial forās ‘to the outside’ and forīs ‘(from the) outside,’ Welsh dor (f.sg.) ‘door’ (< *d^hureh_a- or *d^hworeh_a-), Old Irish dorus ‘door’ (< *d^hworestu-), Gothic daur (nt.sg.) ‘gate,’ Old English dor (nt.sg.) ‘door, gate, pass’ (both < *d^hurom), Old Norse dyrr (fem.pl.) ‘door,’ Old High German turi ‘id.’ (both < nom. pl. *d^hures), Old English duru ‘door, gate’ (< acc. pl. *d^hurṇs), Lithuanian dùrys (fem.pl.) ‘door’ (< an old consonant stem), OCS dvьri ‘door’ (as if < *d^hwṛ-ṇs) (P:278-279; MA:168)]. In addition there was a derived neuter *d^hworo- meaning ‘enclosure, courtyard’ (< *‘that enclosed by the door’) and also possibly also ‘gate, door’ [: Sanskrit dvāram (nt.) ‘door, gate, passage,’ Latin forum (vulgarly forus [m.]) ‘forum,’ Lithuanian dvãras (m.) ‘estate; court,’ OCS dvorъ (m.) ‘court’ (P:278-279; MA:168)]. PTch *twere clearly belongs with the second group in terms of its formation, though semantically perhaps better with the first group (VW:520, though details differ). There is no need, with Normier, 1980:253, to take PTch *twere to reflect a PIE dual *d^hwor h₁. +

+ + +
+

+dakṣiṇāke +(nm.) +‘worthy one, one worthy of sacrifice’
+[dakṣiṇāke, -, dakṣiṇākeṃ// -, dakṣiṇākeṃts, -] + maitar yopar warttone dakṣiṇākeṃ ritasi wrocceṃ rṣākeṃ ‘they went and entered into the forest to seek out the great, worthy seer’ (107a7). +∎From BHS dakṣiṇiya- + the Tocharian suffix -āke. +

+ + +
+

+dakṣiṇāpat +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘southern’
+/// dakṣiṇāpat ypomnāmeṃ ‘from the southern lands’ (110a7). +∎From BHS dakṣiṇāpatha-. +

+ + +
+

+Dantapur* +(n.) +‘Dantapura’ (PN of a city)
+[-, -, Dantapur//] +(48b8). +

+ + +
+

+danti +(n.) +‘Baliospermum montanum Muell.-Arg.’ [aka ‘Croton polyandrum Roxb.’] (a medical ingredient)
+[danti, -, -//] +(P-3b4). +∎From BHS dantī-. +

+ + +
+

+dantiphal +(n.) +‘seed of the B. montanum Muell.-Arg.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[dantiphal, -, -//] +(Y-2a1). +∎From BHS dantīphala-. +

+ + +
+

+darśanamārk +(n.) +‘way of seeing, way of knowledge’
+[darśanamārk, -, -//] +(30b6). +∎From BHS darśanamārga-. +

+ + +
+

+Daṇḍakamāl +(n.) +‘Daṇḍakamala’ (PN)
+[Daṇḍakamāl, -, -//] +(429b1). +

+ + +
+

+dānapāramit +(n.) +‘gift-perfection’
+[dānapāramit, -, -//] +(345b1). +∎From BHS dāna-pāramitā- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Dīpankar +(n.) +‘Dīpankara’ (PN of a buddha)
+[Dīpankar, -, Dīpankar//] +(74b2, 365a2). +

+ + +
+

+dipamāl* +(n.) +‘garland of lamps’
+[-, -, dipamāl//] +Ratnaśikhiṃ protri dipamāl yāmṣawa ‘I made for [my] brother R. a garland of lamps’ (400a5). + -- dīpamālṣe ‘prtng to a garland of lamps’: dīpamālṣe ekaññe wasa ‘she gave the equipment for the garland of lamps’ (Qumtura 34-g1 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +∎From BHS dīpamālā ‘garland of lamps.’ +

+ + +
+

+Dīrghanakhe* +(n.) +‘Dīrghanakha’ (PN)
+[-, Dīrghanakhi, Dīrghanakheṃ//] +(26b7). +

+ + +
+

+duralaṃba +(n.) +‘± something unfit to be touched or handled’
+[duralaṃba, -, -//] +(497a2). +∎From BHS durālambha-. +

+ + +
+

+Durmukhe +(n.) +‘Durmukha’ (PN of a brahman)
+[Durmukhe, -, -//] +(88a1). +

+ + +
+

+duścarit* +(n.) +‘misbehavior, wickedness ’
+[-, -, duścarit] +(S-3a5). +∎From BHS duścarita-. +

+ + +
+

+duśśīle +(adj.) +‘having a bad character, immoral’
+[m: duśśīle, -, -//] +[ce] cmeln=ālyekne lakle śaiṃ su duśśīle ‘in this birth and another the immoral [one] lives [in] suffering’ (14b5). + -- duśśīlñe* ‘immorality, bad character’ (K-7b3). +∎From BHS duḥśīla-. +

+ + +
+

+duṣkaracāräṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a course of difficult tasks (engaged in by a bodhisatva)’
+[f: -, -, duṣkaracāräṣṣai//] +(541b3). +∎An adjective derived from an unattested *duṣkaracār, itself a borrowing from BHS *duṣkara-cāra- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +See also duṣkär. +

+ + +
+

+duṣkär +(n.) +‘difficult task ’
+[duṣkär, -, -//] +(331a1). +∎From BHS duṣkara-. +See also duṣkaracāräṣṣe*. +

+ + +
+

+duṣṭhul +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘grave offense.’
+[duṣṭhul, -, -//] +(325a3). +∎From BHS duṣṭhula-. +

+ + +
+

+duḥ +(n.) +‘offense’
+[duḥ -, -//] +k_use mā aṣṣāṃ sānkämpa nessi tākaṃ duḥ ‘whoever should not be worthy to be with the community, [there is] an offense’ (H-149.72b3 [Thomas, 1954:743]). +∎From BHS duḥ. +

+ + +
+

+devakul* +(n.) +‘temple’
+[-, -, devakul//] +(118a4). +∎From BHS devakula-. +

+ + +
+

+devadattapakṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the school of Devadatta’
+[m (?): //devadattapakṣiki, -, devadattapakṣikeṃ] +(PK-AS-18B-b1 [Pinault, 1984b:377]). +∎From *devadatta-pakṣika- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +See also Devadatte¹. +

+ + +
+

+Devadatte¹ +(n.) +‘Devadatta’ (PN of a relative of the Buddha who is inimical to him)
+[Devadatte, -, -//] +(21a4). +See devadattapakṣe*, devadatte*². +

+ + +
+

+devadatte*² +(n.) +the name of a meter of 20/22/10/15 syllables (rhythm a: 5/5/5/5, b: 8/7/7, c: 5/5, d: 8/7)
+[-, -, devadatteṃ//] +(93a6). +

+ + +
+

+devadāru +(n.) +‘deodar’ (‘Cedrus deodara (Roxb.) Loundon’ [aka ‘Pinus deodar Roxb.’]) (a medical ingredient)
+[devadāru, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS devadāru-. +

+ + +
+

+Devarakṣte +(n.) +‘Devarakṣita’ (PN in graffito)
+[Devarakṣte, -, -//] +(G-Qo1). +

+ + +
+

+deśit +See teśit. +

+ + +
+

+Dravyaśvare +(n.) +‘Dravyaśvara’ (PN of a merchant)
+[Dravyaśvare, -, -//] +(89b5). +

+ + +
+

+dravyi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘substance’
+[dravyi, -, dravyi//dravyanma, -, -] +(193b1). + -- dravyatstse* ‘± having (a) substance’ (170b6). +∎From BHS dravya-. +

+ + +
+

+Drohavārg* +(n.) +‘Drohavarga’ [a portion of the Udānavarga]
+[-, -, Drohavārg//] +(S-4b2). +

+ + +
+

+dvavraṇi +See dvivräṇi. +

+ + +
+

+dvādaśānke* +(n.) +‘the twelve members’
+[//-, -, dvādaśānkeṃ] +(401a3). +∎From BHS *dvādaśānga- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+dvīp* +(nnt.) +‘island’
+[-, -, dvīp//dvipanma, dvipanmaṃts, -] +/// [sa]mudtärntaṃts dvipanmaṃts ‘of oceans and islands’ (51b5). + -- dvipanmaṣṣe* ‘prtng to islands’ (590a6). +∎From BHS dvīpa-. +

+ + +
+

+dvivräṇikalp +(n.) +‘technique for ulcers or wounds’
+[dvivraṇikalp, -, -//] +(P-2b4). +∎From BHS dvivraṇīyakalpa-. +

+ + +
+

+dvivräṇi* +(n.) +‘ulcer or wound’
+[-, -, dvivräṇi//] +(P-1b1). +∎From BHS dvivraṇīya-. +

+ + +
+

+Dhanike +(n.) +‘Dhanika’ (PN of a monk)
+[Dhanike, -, -//] +(H-149.ADD.8a2 [Thomas, 1957:124]). +

+ + +
+

+dhanyamāṣ +(n.) +a kind of bean?
+[dhanyamāṣ, -, -//] +traiwo [] kluṣṣa ṣwīye [] dhanyamāṣ mäścakene se kaṣāyä /// (497a8), śabaralodrä uppāläṣṣana piltāsa tänyamāṣ (P-2a5). + -- dhanyamāṣäṣṣe ‘prtng to dhanyamāṣ’: dhanyamāṣäṣṣe = BHS māṣa (543a3). +∎Apparently from BHS *dhanya-māṣa- (compound not it M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Dharmakāmiśke +(n.) +‘Dharmakāma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Dharmakāmiśke, -, -//] +(G-Su15). +∎A Tocharian diminutive of Dharmakāme. +

+ + +
+

+Dharmakāme +(n.) +‘Dharmakāma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Dharnmakāme, -, -//] +(G-Su2). +See also Dharmakāmiśke. +

+ + +
+

+Dharmacandre +(n.) +‘Dharmacandra’ (PN)
+[Dharmacandre, -, -//] +(605b1). +

+ + +
+

+dharmacākkär +(n.) +‘wheel of the law’
+[dharmacākkär, -, -//] +(30b6). +∎From BHS dharmacakra-. +

+ + +
+

+Dharmatrāte +(n.) +‘Dharmatrāta’ (PN in graffito)
+[Dharamtrāte, Dharmatrātentse, -//] +(G-Su10). +

+ + +
+

+dharmadhātu +(n.) +‘sphere of religion’
+[dharmadhātu, -, -//] +(192a3). +∎From BHS dharmadhātu-. +

+ + +
+

+Dharmadāse +(n.) +‘Dharmadāsa’ (PN of a monk)
+[Dharmadāse, Dharmadāsentse, -//] +(427b3). +

+ + +
+

+Dharmarakṣite +(n.) +‘Dharmarakṣita’ (PN)
+[Dharmarakṣite, -, -//] +(440a2). +See also Tārmarakṣite. +

+ + +
+

+Dharmawarme +(n.) +‘Dharmawarma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Dharmawarme, -, -//] +(G-Su4). +

+ + +
+

+Dharmasome +(n.) +‘Dharmasoma’ (PN of author of the Udānālankāra)
+[Dharmasome, -, -//] +(428b6). + -- dharmasomäññe ‘prng to Dharmasoma’ (28a4). +

+ + +
+

+dharmaskant +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘collection of laws’
+[dharmaskant, dharmaskantäntse, -//] +(199a2). +∎From BHS dharmaskandha-. +

+ + +
+

+dharmāyataṃ +(n.) +‘the sphere or object of the mind’
+[dharmāyataṃ -, -//] +(192a3). +∎From BHS dharmāyatana-. +

+ + +
+

+dharmopavicār* +(n.) +‘± neighborhood of the law’
+[dharmopavicār, dharmopavicāräntse, -//] +(173a6). +∎Apparently from BHS *dharma-upavicāra- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+dhātu +(nnt.) +‘element; relic’
+[dhātu, -, dhātu//dhatunma, dhatunaṃts, dhatunma] +(9a4). + -- dhatuṣṣe* ‘prtng to an element or relic’ (59a3). +∎From BHS dhātu-. +

+ + +
+

+dhātunvaineye* +(n.) +‘one to be converted by relics’
+[//dhātunvaineyi, -, -] +(H-ADD.149.62b1 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). +∎From BHS dhātunvaineya-. +

+ + +
+

+dhutaguṇä* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘ascetic rule of life’
+[-, -, dhutaguṇä//] +(560a1). +∎From BHS dhutaguṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+Dhṛtirāṣṭre +(n.) +‘Dhṛtirāṣṭra’ (PN)
+[Dhṛtirāṣṭre, -, -//] +(74b2, AMB-a1). +

+ + +
+

+dhyāṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘meditation’
+[-, dhyanantse, dhyāṃ//-, dhyananmaṃts, dhyananma] +abhijñanta dhyananma eroṣ eṃṣke ywārco tsälpoṣ saṃsārmeṃ ‘[those] who [have] evoked the [higher] knowledges and meditations and who [are] have freed from the saṃsāra’ (31a3). + -- dhyānaṣṣe* ‘prtng to meditation’ (213b2); +
+dhyananmaṣṣe ‘prtng to meditations’ (73b6). +∎From BHS dhyāna-. +

+ + +
+

+dhyānāntar +(n.) +‘± meditation-heart’
+(Dd5/1.3). +∎If from BHS *dhyāna-āntara- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+dhvaje +(n.) +‘crow’
+[dhvaje, -, -//] +(511a3). +∎From BHS dhvaja-. +

+ + +
+

+nakänmatse +See nāki. +

+ + +
+

+nakunakhi +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[nakunakhi, -, -//] +(W-18a5). +

+ + +
+

+nakūle +(n.) +‘mongoose’
+[nakūle, -, nakūle//] +nakūle temtsa[te] mamāntaṣ palskosa śem arśāklaiścä ‘he was [re-]born [as] a mongoose and went to the snake with evil intentions’ (42a6). +∎From BHS nakula-. +

+ + +
+

+-nakṣi * +(adj.) +‘destroying’ ; (n.) ‘destroyer’
+[-, -, - (voc.) -nakṣi//] +läkle-näkṣi säkw-aiṣṣeñcai käṣṣi ‘O teacher, destroyer of suffering and giver of good fortune’ (229b4). +∎A derivative of näk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nagaropam* +(n.) +‘city-simile’
+[-, -, nagaropam//] +(H-149.ADD.46b2 [Thomas, 1968b:227]). +∎From BHS nagaropama- (vid. U-23b1 where BHS nagaropamaṃ = TchB rīye menāk). +

+ + +
+

+naṭāk +See nāṭak. +

+ + +
+

+naṭe +(n.) +‘actor’
+[naṭe, -, -//] +(152al). +∎From BHS naṭa-. +See also nāṭak. +

+ + +
+

+nano +(adv.) +(a) ‘again’; (b) nano + adjective = ‘even [adjective]-er’
+(a) allok nano preśyaine Śrāvastine mä[skītär] ‘again, at another time, he found himself in Ś.’ (5b3), nanw alyeko ślok weña ... nano wtentse tänma[strä] [nano wtentse = BHS punar eva] (11a6), apsāltsa yāmu pīle kektseṃne curṇanmasa ṣälypentasa nano mīsa rättankeṃ ‘[if there is] a wound in the body made by a sword, [covered] with powders and salves, the flesh heals again’ (17b3); +
+(b) yenteṣṣana tekanmane kartse ṣuwisa yāmäṃ nano kartse ‘[it is] good in [cases of] wind diseases; with broth it does even better’ (Y-2b6). +‣For a discussion of its position within its clause, see Thomas, 1986. + -- näno-näno ‘again and again’: päst kl[au]tkoträ lakle se nano nano ‘suffering turns away again and again’ [nano nano = BHS punaḥpunaḥ] (11a5); +
+nänok ‘again’: war yokaiṣṣe witskaṃ waiwäṣṣäṃ-ne n_änok ñwecce klutkäṣṣä[n-n]e ‘the water of thirst moistens its roots and makes it new again’ (11b3); +
+nano-cmelñeṣṣe* ‘prtng to rebirth’: (155b5). +∎The TchB forms are obviously related to TchA nuṃ ‘id.’ and nunak (= B nänok), presumably because they reflect PTch *nunọ́ and *nunọ́kä respectively. TchB nano shows loss of vowel quality in the unstressed syllable (nänó) and then restressing. A nunak shows the same progressive, dissimilatory, unrounding we see in kuryar ‘trade, commerce’ (cf. B karyor ‘id.’). PTch *nunọ looks like it might reflect a PIE *nūnām, parallel, in form at least, to Sanskrit nūnám, Lithuanian nūnaĩ , OCS nyně, all ‘now, present’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:170, VW:321, with differing details). +See also no. +

+ + +
+

+Nandake +(nm.) +‘Nandaka’ (PN of a disciple of the Buddha)
+[Nandake, -, -//] +(506b1). +

+ + +
+

+Nandaṃ-wärtto* +(n.) +‘Nandana-forest’ (PN)
+[-, -, Nandaṃ-wärtto//] +(275a1). +

+ + +
+

+nandavilāp* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 15 syllables
+[-, -, nandavilāp//] +(28a4). +

+ + +
+

+Nandābala +(n.) +‘Nandabalā’ (PN)
+[Nanda, -, Nandābalai//] +(107a9). +

+ + +
+

+nandikāwart +(n.) +designation of a mystic diagram
+[nandikāwart, -, -//] +cākkär svastik nandikāwart ṣotruna ‘the cakra, svastika, and nandikāvarta signs’ (107a1). +∎From BHS nandikāvarta-. +

+ + +
+

+Nandipāle +(n.) +‘Nandīpāla’ (PN)
+[Nandipāle, -, Nandipāleṃ//] +(401a2). +

+ + +
+

+nay* +(n.) +‘politics, political affairs, governance’
+[-, -, nay//] +po twe ārṣt ñke ypauna k_uṣaino klaina säwa [lege: s_äsūwa] lantso nayä snai keś waipeccenta ‘[if] thou givest up everything: lands, villages, wives, sons, queen, political affairs, possessions without number’ (46a6=47b4). +∎From BHS naya-. +

+ + +
+

+Naradeve +(n.) +‘Naradeva’ (PN of a king)
+[Naradeve, -, -//] +(111a6). +

+ + +
+

+nalat +(n.) +‘a variety of Vetiveria zizanioides (Linn.) Nash’ (aka ‘Andropogon muricatus Retz.’) (a medical ingredient)
+[nalat, -, -//] +(W-30a2). +∎From BHS nadala-. +

+ + +
+

+nawanti* +(n.) +‘place of the one most junior in rank’
+[-, -, nawanti//] +tumeṃ putantimeṃ waiptār aśarintaṃts paiyne wināṣṣälle ... eṃṣke nawanti täṅtsi ‘then he [is] to honor the feet of the ācāryas separately from the most senior place to the most junior’ (KVāc-20a5 [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:760]). +∎Borrowed from BHS navānta- or Pali navanta-. +See also putanti-. +

+ + +
+

+nawasa(-) +‘?’
+/// śār aiypseṃ [ṣa]rsa totteṃ āś nawasa/// (324b4). +

+ + +
+

+nawāke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘novice’
+[nawāke, -, nawākeṃ//] +masa sw=ārhānte cau nawākeṃ ṣamāneṃśco pelaikn=ākṣā-ne ‘the arhat went to the novice monk and proclaimed to him the law’ (42a2). +∎From BHS navaka-. +

+ + +
+

+naṣūyāl +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[naṣūyāl, -, -//] +(P-2b1). +

+ + +
+

+naṣkara +‘?’
+/// alāṣṣäṃ naṣkara katänaṃ śarkwāsa ṣtallaṣallesa mäskeṃtär po krentauna (W-2b1/2). +

+ + +
+

+naṣṭa +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘invisible’
+kete ñemntsa pwarne hom yāmäṃ su mā walke naṣṭa ‘in whosoever's name he makes the sacrifice in the fire, he [will be] not long invisible’ (M-1b5). +∎From BHS naṣṭa-. +

+ + +
+

+nastukārm +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘nasal medicament’
+[nastukārm, -, -//nastukārmänta, -, nastukārmänta] +kuñcitäṣṣe ṣalype nastukārm eśanene kartse pāwesa ṣpä nastukārmäntane ṣśpālmeṃ se cipanitäntse (W-17b1/3). +∎From BHS nastakarman-. +See also mastukārm. +

+ + +
+

+nāk ~ nāke +(n.) +‘snake’ [in the calendrical cycle of years]
+[nāk ~ nāke, -, -//] +nā[k] = BHS nāga in the calendrical cycle (549a6), nāke pikulne ‘in the snake year’ (G-Ga3). +∎From BHS nāga-. +See also nāge. +

+ + +
+

+nāk- +(vt.) +‘reprove, condemn, blame, scold, reproach, revile’
+Ps. VIII /nāks^'ä/_e-/ [MP nāksemar, -, nākṣtär// -, -, nāksentär; MPImpf. // -, -, nakṣiyentär; Ger. nakṣalle ‘reprehensible’]; Ko. I /nāk-/ [Inf. nāktsi]; Pt. III /nāksā-/ [MP -, -, nāksate// -, -, nāksante]; PP /nānāku-/ + k_use no nakṣalye wnolme pällāträ cen ra nakṣtär ‘whatever reprehensible person praises [it], [it is as if] he blames it’ [nakṣtär = BHS nindati] (16a6), nakṣtär [ṣa]ñ añ[m] ‘he blames himself’ (35a4), nākse[nt]rä = BHS vigarhaṃti (251a2), tusa kattāki mäntañyenträ [] nakṣīyenträ pañä[kte] klyauṣa nāksate ‘the householders were in bad spirits, they reviled one another; the Buddha heard and reproached [them]’ (337a2/3); tusāksa aikne ṣäñ yolaina yāmornta nāktsy aiśaumyepi ‘thus it [is] the duty of the wise man to reproach his own evil deeds’ (K-3b3), k_use cau nāktsi arcanträ = BHS kas taṃ ninditum arhati (U-18b1 [cf. H-149-ADD.67b7 (Thomas, 1954:725)]); wnolmi tallāñco nāksante ṣañ añm ‘suffering beings reproached themselves’ (15a5=17a6 [17a6: naksante]). + -- nanākor: /// [na]nakorsa aiskacu ci wī[naskau] ‘I honor thee, O one untouched by blame’ (208a4); +
+nākälñe ‘reproach, blame’: empelona ra yāmwa tākaṃ yāmornta āñm-nākälñesa nuttsāna pest klautkonträ ‘even if evil deeds have been done, they become completely nugatory through self-reproach’ (K-3b2), nākälyñe = BHS nindā- (U-18b2). +∎AB nāk- reflect PTch *nāk-, probably from PIE *nak- ‘press, squeeze’ seen in Grk nássō ‘press, compress, stamp,’ Hittite nakki- ‘weighty, important,’ nakke(ss)- ‘be(come) heavy’ (MA:570). Similar semantically is VW's suggestion (311) that PTch *nāk- is a denominative formation from a vṛddhied adjective ‘heavy, weighty’ derived from PIE *h₁neḱ- ‘carry, bring,’ but nāk- has none of the earmarks of a denominative. +See also nāki, anākätte, and perhaps näk-. +

+ + +
+

+nāki +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘fault, error; blame’
+[nāki, -, nāki//nakanma, nakanmaṃts, nakanma] +[na]kanma yo[k]ai-kleśmeṃ tsenkenträ wnolmets māka ‘many faults arise to me from the kleśa of thirst’ (11b1), nāki welñe preresa ce_u aunaṣṣän-me arañcne ‘with the arrow of blame-speaking he wounds them in the heart’ (17b1), yaiku nāki = BHS apetadoṣaḥ (30a4), nāky empelye = BHS ādīnava (32b5), nakanmats = BHS doṣa- (Y-3b3). + -- nākiṣṣe ‘prtng to blame, reproach, etc.’: pudñäktäṃññe pelaiknesa taur śār katnaṃ nakiṣṣe ‘over the Buddha's law he spreads the dust of reproach’ (15b1=17b2); +
+nākiññe ‘± reprehensible’ (?): (S-4[suppl.b3]); +
+nakanmatstse ‘± reprehensible’ (?): (230b4). +∎A derivative of nāk- (in PIE terms *nakmen-), q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nāko +(nf.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[nāko, -, -//] +(W-10b6). +

+ + +
+

+nāgapaträ +(n.) +‘Artemisia vulgaris Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[nāgapaträ, -, -//] +(W-19a4). +∎From BHS nāgapatrā-. +

+ + +
+

+Nāgasene* +(n.) +‘Nāgasena’ (PN)
+[-, Nāgaseni, -//] +(428a2). +

+ + +
+

+nāge +(nm.) +‘nāga, serpent demon’
+[nāge, nagentse, -//nāgi, -, -] +nāgi lakaṃ tsatkuṃ enkalwa ypauna ā[rseṃ] wranta osonträ ‘(if) the nāgas see perverted passions, and leave the lands, the waters dry up’ (3a1). +∎From BHS nāga-. +See also nāk. +

+ + +
+

+nāṭak* +(n.) +‘play, show, drama’
+[-, -, naṭāk//] +nāṭakne saṃsārṣṣe wrocce sporttomane myāskate wesä ‘he deceived us [while we were] turning in the great drama of the saṃsāra’ (K-12b6). + -- nāṭaktse ‘actor’: nāṭakktse [sic] ra yäkne yäkne āñm myāskate ‘as the actor has changed himself [from] role [to] role’ (290b7). +∎From BHS naṭaka-/nāṭaka-. +See also naṭe. +

+ + +
+

+nān- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘appear, be presented’; K ‘show’
+G Ps. V /nānā-/ [MP -, -, nanātär//; MPImpf. -, -, nanoytär]; Ko. V (= Ps.) [MP -, -, nanātär//]; Pt. I /nānā-/ [MP // -, -, nanānte]; +
+K Ps. IXa /nānāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, nānäṣṣäṃ//] +ścirinne meññäkte ramtä nanoyträ ‘the moon-god appeared, as it were, among the stars’ (389b2); Dharmawarme wai Gunacaṃndre Āśtāwiṃtse nanāṃte ‘Dh. and G. were presented to Ā.’ (G-Su3); akālk śarsäṣṣäṃ-ne laromñe nānäṣṣäṃ-ne ‘he makes known his wish and shows his love’ (325a5). +∎TchA knān- (act.) ‘know, have knowledge of’ and B nān- (middle) reflect different semantic developments (in B *‘be(come) known’ > ‘appear’) of a PTch *knān- from PIE *ǵnh₃-neh_a- ‘know’ [: Sanskrit jānāti ‘knows’ (< *ǵṇh₃-neh_a-), Gothic kunnan ‘know,’ Lithuanian žinóti ‘know,’ Latvian zinât ‘id.,’ Old Prussian posinnat ‘confess, profess,’ and probably Armenian caneay and Old Irish -gninim though the details in both are obscure; cf. also Greek gnōskō ‘know’ and Latin gnōscere, ‘id.’ (P:376-7; MA:337)] (VW:311). The loss of initial k- before -n- in B is paralleled in ²nāsk-. +See also aknātsa and possibly nāne*. +

+ + +
+

+nāne* +(n.) +‘pretense’ (?)
+[-, -, nāne//] +sanai ṣaryompa śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai snai tserekwa snai nāne ‘I will live with one loved one for the good all [my] life long, without deceptions, without nāne’ (496a3/4). +‣It might also be read tāte (or nāte or tāne). Both form and meaning given here are predicated on its being a derivative of the preceding word. +

+ + +
+

+Nānda +(n.) +‘Nāndā’ (PN)
+[Nānda, -, Nāndai//] +(107a7). +

+ + +
+

+Nānde +(n.) +‘Nānda’ (PN of the Buddha's brother)
+[Nānde, Nandentse, Nāndeṃ//] +(A-1a5). +

+ + +
+

+nāmalaṃbaṃ +(n.) +‘± name-basis’
+(183b1). +∎From BHS *nāmālambana- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+nāyake +(n.) +‘guide’
+[nāyake, -, -//] +(PK-12H-a2 [Thomas, 1976b:334]). +∎From BHS nāyaka-. +

+ + +
+

+nāriṃts +‘?’
+///ṣkunekeṣṣe sānk nāriṃtsyānkuneś [word division uncertain] yärṣalñe yamasträ (TEB-74-1). +

+ + +
+

+Nālaṃdagrām* +(n.) +‘Nālanda-village’ (PN)
+[-, -, Nālaṃdagrām//] +(110a6). +

+ + +
+

+Nāśme* +(n.) +‘Nāśme’ (PN of a king)
+[-, Nāśmi, -//] +(PK-Cp.25.1 [Pinault, 1987:160]). +

+ + +
+

+nāsk-¹ +(vi./vt.) +G ‘swim, bathe’ (intr.); K ‘bathe’ (tr.)
+G Ps. II /nāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, nāskeṃ; AImpf. -, -, nāṣṣi//; MPPart. naskemane; Ger. naṣṣalle]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [AOpt. -, -, nāṣṣi//; Inf. nāṣtsi]; Pt. Ib /nāṣṣā-/ [A -, -, nāṣṣa//]; PP /nānāṣṣu-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /nāskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [AImpf. // -, -, nāskäṣyeṃ]; PP /nānāskäṣṣu-/ +[ṣa]māni nāskeṃ = BHS bhikṣavaḥsnānti (H-149.198a3 = U-12a3 [Thomas, 1976b:109]), sū naṣṣi orkäntai ‘he swam to and fro’ (H-149.69a3 [Thomas, 1957:61]), [ywārca-me]ñä epiṅte ṣamānentse ṣe naṣṣalle ‘a monk [is] to bathe at half-monthly intervals’ (318b4); tesa nāṣṣi istak ast[are] ‘thus may he wash [himself] suddenly clean’ (P-2b6), [A]cirapati cakene nāṣtsi maitar ‘they went into the Aciravatī River to swim/ bathe’ (H-149.311a3 [Thomas, 1957:125]); kārpa nāṣṣa lyyāsa wrenta po laikāte ‘he descended, bathed, wiped off all the dust and washed himself’ (107b4); astare nanāṣūsa klyiye ‘a woman purely washed’ (P-2b6); nāskäṣyeṃ lyikṣ[y]e[n-ne] ‘they bathed him and washed him’ (42b7); (208a3). +∎From PIE *(s)neh_a- ‘swim, bathe, wash’ [: Sanskrit snāti/snāyate ‘bathes,’ Avestan snayeitē ‘washes, purifies,’ Greek nēkhō ‘swim,’ Latin nāre ‘swim,’ Middle Irish snáid ‘swims’ (P:972-3; MA:561)] (VW, 1941:73, 1976:312). +

+ + +
+

+nāsk-² +(vt.) +‘± eat, gnaw’
+Ko. V /nāskā-/ [AOpt. -, -, nāskoy//] +mäkte tärrek eṅwe yesti nāskoy enersänk ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘as the blind man eats [his] meal and, throwing it inadvertently into the maternal hearth, it burns up’ (154b3). +∎(As if) from PIE *g^hnog^h-sḱe/o- [: English gnash and related words and, without the present forming suffix, OE gnagan, ON gnaga ‘gnaw’ (cf. P:436)]. The loss of initial k- when before -n- in TchB is paralleled in nān- ‘appear,’ q.v. For both meaning and etymology, see Adams (1989). +

+ + +
+

+näk- +(vi./vt.) +(active) ‘destroy’; (middle) ‘be lost, disappear, be destroyed, perish’
+Ps. VIII /näks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, nakṣt, nakṣäṃ//; MP -, -, nakṣtär// -, -, näksentär; APart. näkṣeñca]; Ko. I (active) /nek- ~ näk-/ + Ko. III (middle) /näke-/ [A neku, -, -//nkem, -, nakäṃ; Inf. naktsi; MP nkemar, -, nketär//; MPOpt. -, -, nśītär//; Ger. nkelle]; Pt. III /nek-/ [A nekwa, nekasta, neksa//; MP -, -, neksate//]; PP /neneku- ~ nenäku-/ +mäkte tne lāñe nakṣäṃ sarmana ... mant tne yarke-peti nakṣäṃ śilaṣṣana sarmana ‘as the flood destroys the seeds, so flattery and fawning destroys the seeds of moral behavior’ (33b7), kessa wnolmi [sru]kenträ nakṣträ jambudvip [s]e ‘the creatures die of hunger and Jambudvip perishes’ (3a1/2), śakātaṣṣa sā_u sälyye mkte [sic] [wa]rne nakṣtär ṣe prentse mant śāmnaṃts śaul nakṣtär ‘as the mark of a stick in water disappears [in] a single instant, so is lost the life of men’ (3b7), lykaśke rano totka ra [yām]ornts=oko mā nakṣtär ‘even if small or little, the fruit of the deed is not lost’ (S-3b2/3), po tekanma näkṣeñca ‘destroying all diseases’ (Y-2a2); neku-ne = BHS utsādayiṣyām [K. T. Schmidt, 1984:152] (542a1), nakäṃ ṣamāññeṣṣe maim pälskw ‘they will destroy monkish thought and spirit’ (27a5), pkāte näktsī wel[ñ]enta ccents ‘he intended to destroy their speeches’ (133a5); yäpoy nketär se snai wäste ‘the country will be destroyed without refuge’ (123a6), k[_us]e kauc wän[tr]e ts[ä]nkowo mā no nśītr[ä] postäṃ ‘whatever thing [has] been raised high must not later perish’ (45b8); nekwa soyṣe naumye ñäś ci nekwa skwanm[a] pw=āñmantse ‘I have lost thee, O son-jewel, and I have lost all my good fortune’ (246a5), śonaiṣṣe wse nekasta ‘thou hast destroyed the poison of hate’ (204b3/4); nenku nā[ki krentauna] ‘having destroyed reproach and virtues’ (249a3). + -- nenkor* ‘± destruction’: nenkorsa ka käṣṣinta karāre toṃ ślokanma ‘the teachers gathered these ślokas from destruction’ (11b1); +
+nkelñe ‘destruction’ (nkelñene i- ‘go to destruction, perish’): kete ñemtsa yāmäṃ su mā walke nkelyñene yaṃ ‘in whosever name one does [it], he walks into destruction not long after’ (M-2a3), [nke]lñene = BHS kṣayaṃ (PK-NS-414a1 [Couvreur, 1966:170]). +∎AB näk- reflect PTch *näk- from PIE *neḱ- ‘kill, destroy; perish, die’ [: Sanskrit naśyati, naśati ‘be lost, disappear,’ Avestan nas- ‘need, misfortune,’ Latin nex ‘death, murder,’ Greek nékūs, nekrós ‘body,’ Latin noceō ‘harm, injure,’ noxa ‘harm, injury, damage,’ Old Irish éc ‘death’ (< *ṇku-), etc. (P:762; MA:150)] (Meillet, 1911:455, VW:313). The connection between the o-grade Latin noceō and Tocharian nek- is particularly striking. +See also nakṣi, more distantly enkwe, and possibly nāk-. +

+ + +
+

+näkṣātär* +(n.) +‘asterism or constellation through which the moon passes, a lunar mansion’
+[-, -, näkṣātär//näkṣātärnta, -, -] +Kertik näkṣātärne ‘in the asterism of the Pleiades’ (M-1b4). +∎From BHS nakṣatra-. +

+ + +
+

+nätk- +(vt.) +‘thrust/push (away); urge’
+Ps. VI /nätknā-/ [A -, -, natknaṃ//; Ger. nätknālle]; Ps. VII /nättänk-/ [A -, -, nattänkäṃ//]; Ko. V /nātkā-/ [A -, -, nātkaṃ//]; Pt. Ia /ñätkā-/ [A //ñatka, -, ñitkāre; MP -, ñatkatai, -//]; PP /nätko-/ +ompalskoññe päst prankäṣṣäṃ natknaṃ lauke aiśamñe yarke peti ñaṣtär ‘he rejects meditation and thrusts away wisdom; he seeks honor and flattery’ (33b2/3), [palskal]ñ[e]nta pälskomeṃ nätkallona ‘thoughts [are] to be thrust from the mind’ (8b1); natänkäṃn-ne oroce maswkameṃ [lege: maskwameṃ] ‘he thrusts him away from a great obstacle’ (333a1); klyiye ṣamānentse asāṃ nātkaṃ ‘(if) a woman knocks away the seat of a monk’ (325a1); yāmornta ñitkāre-ne spalkāte-ne ramt arañce rīmeṃ lantsi warttoś ‘the deeds egged him on; his heart yearned to leave the city and [go] to the woods’ (DA-1a1); takarṣkñesa nätkausa k_uce palamai-c pälalyu ‘prompted by faith, what will I praise of thee, O praiseworthy one?’ (241b5). +∎AB nätk- reflect PTch *nätk- (as if) from PIE *nud-sḱe/o- [: Sanskrit nudáti ‘pushes’ (otherwise isolated, see Mayrhofer, 1963:176)]. Both meaning (rather than "support" or the like) and etymology are Jasanoff's (apud Melchert, 1977:123-4; cf. Jasanoff, 1978:39; MA:471). (Based on the erroneous meaning "support" is VW:316). +See also netke, eñatketse, and probably ñatke. +

+ + +
+

+näno +See nano. +

+ + +
+

+näm- +(vi./vt.) +(active) ‘bend (toward); incline (tr.)’ [palsko näm- ‘bend the mind to, decide to’]; (middle) ‘bend, bow (as a mark of respect)’
+Ps. VIII /näms^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, namṣäṃ// -, -, namseṃ; MP -, -, namṣtär//]; Ko. I (active) + Ko. III (middle) /näme- ~ ñäme-/ [MP -, -, nmetär//; Inf. ñmetsi; Ger. nmalle*]; Pt. III /nem-/ [A // -, -, nemar; MP nemtsamai, -, -//]; PP /ñeñämu-/; PP /nämo-/ (K-T) +palsko namṣäṃ = BHS antarnāmayati (537a4), or namseṃ tarkāttsaṃ ṣañ añm y[ātäskeṃ] = BHS dāruṃ namayanti takṣakā hy ātmānaṃdmayanti (PK-NS-107b1 [Thomas, 1976b:106]); tumeṃ sā keṃ ñäkte nmeträ ‘thereupon will this earth bow to the god’ (PK-13B-b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]), ///l ̇iñ ñmetsi śwātsi smaṃñe /// (335a5), om[t]e su nmälye /// (H-ADD.149.62b5 [Thomas, 1967: 22]); ñakti arjuṃ-stām nemar-neś cau enksate ‘the gods bent the arjuna-tree to him and he seized it’ (107b4); ñeñmu tärne/// ‘inclining [my] head’ (248a2), tusa ka[kācc]u ply[e]_usa su ke_ucä ñeñmu kektseñ yäprerne ot ś[kamaiyyai no wi]nāṣṣa ‘thus rejoicing he flew high, bending [his] body in the air; thereby he honored the ten-powered one’ (365a3). + -- nmalñe ‘± bending’ (?): namalñ[e] (190a1), kauc nmalyñe (414a2-fn.4); +
+nmalyñeṣṣe* ‘± prtng to bending’ (?): ///ññe nmalyñeṣṣeṃ (414a2). +∎AB näm- reflect PTch *näm- from PIE *nem- ‘bend, incline’ [: Sanskrit námati ‘bends, bows,’ Avestan nəmaiti ‘id.,’ TchB räm- ‘bend (away), deflect’ (if the present rämnā- is from PIE *nṃneh_a- by dissimilation) and other, nominal cognates, in Greek, Latin, Germanic, Baltic, and Celtic (P:764; MA:63)] (Schulze, 1927, VW:313). +See also possibly räm-. +

+ + +
+

+närk- +(vt.) +‘keep away’
+Ps. IX /närkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, narkäṣṣäṃ (K-T)//]; Pt. II /ñārkā-/ [A -, -, ñārka (K-T)//] +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion (negative *n- + ṛg- ‘extend’), see VW (314). +See also nerke and enerke. +

+ + +
+

+närs- +(vt.) +‘urge, press’
+Ps. IXb /närsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, narsäṣṣäṃ//]; Pt. II /ñyārsā-/ [A -, -, ñyārsa//] +/// [s]k[a]rraṃ narsäṣṣäṃ | māka cmelane su trä ̇ārñe pätkārñeścä yāmor yamasträ (42b3); /// ostmeṃ lantsiś ñyārsa-me soylñe śārsa /// ‘he urged them to leave their homes; he knew satisfaction’ (50b1). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+näsait* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘spell’ [only in combination with yām- as (vi/vt.) ‘cast a spell’; ‘cast a spell over’]
+[-, -, näsait//] +[arṣā]klo auk catä tsākaṃ tesa näsait y[amaṣäle] ‘[if] a snake, adder, or cat bites, thus a spell [is] to be cast’ (503a2), kwri no āñme tākaṃ-ne raddhisa yatsi war nässait yamaṣle iprerne pärsnālle raddhisa yaṃn ‘if [someone] has the desire to go with magical power, [he is] to cast a spell [over] water; [it is] to be sprinkled in the air; he goes with magical power’ (M-3b6/7). +∎Related to TchA nesset ‘id.’ but further connections are unknown (cf. VW:318). +

+ + +
+

+nigranthe* +(n.) +‘heretical monk’
+[-, nigranthi, -//-, nigrantheṃts, nigrantheṃ] +(20a6). +∎From BHS nirgrantha-. +

+ + +
+

+nigrot +(n.) +‘banyan’ [Ficus bengalensis Linn.]
+[nigrot, -, nigrot//] +Supratiṣṭhit ñem nigrot [ṣai] stanāṃts wlo ‘S. was a banyan, the king of trees’ (3a7). +∎From BHS nyagrodha-. +

+ + +
+

+Nigrodhārām +(n.) +‘Nyagrodhārāma’ (PN of a park where the Buddha often stayed)
+(349a3). +See also nyagrodhārām. +

+ + +
+

+nicitakāmp +(n.) +‘Sphaeranthus hirtus Willd.’ [Filliozat] (a medical ingredient)
+[nicitakāmp, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS nicakadamba- +

+ + +
+

+niculaphal +(n.) +‘fruit of Calamus rotang Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[niculaphal, -, -//] +(P-3b5). +∎From BHS niculaphala-. +

+ + +
+

+nitt- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘break (intr.), collapse’; K ‘crush, pull down’
+G Ps. I /nitt-/ [A -, -, nittäṃ//]; Ko. V /nāittā-/ [Inf. naittatsi]; Pt. Ib /nāittā-/ [A // -, -, naittāre]; +
+K Ps IXb /nāittäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, naittäṣṣäṃ//]; Pt. IV /nāittäṣṣā-/ [A -, naittaṣṣasta, -//] +läkleñ arañce nittaṃ [lege: nittäṃ] wesäñ ‘out of suffering [our] heart[s] break’ (88b4/5); /// [kek]ly[au]ṣormeṃ māndri läkleñ naittatsi aun[tsate] (370a3); maiwa [keṃ] ... kodyänmā[sa] sumerntā naittāre ‘the earth shook ... by thousands the mountains collapsed’ (274b6); kāmadhāttuṣṣai yoñyaṃ kaut[a]n[aṃ] Morñiktantse mīnadhvaje waipe räskre naittäṣṣäṃ ‘he cut off the kāmadhātu way and roughly pulled down the fish-emblazoned banner of Māra’ (591a1); S[u]mer ś[a]le [lege: ṣale] naittaṣṣasta ‘thou didst crush Mt. Sumeru’ (297.1b5). +‣The present of the Grundverb is usually as given as a Class V (i.e. /nittā-/) but a Class V present paralleled by a Class V subjunctive but differing in root ablaut is otherwise unparalleled. A Class I present with zero-grade and a Class V subjuntive with full-grade is, however, paralleled in the semantically related miw-/māiwā- ‘shake, tremble.’ An athematic nitt- is confirmed by the derived adjective nitmo. +∎Etymology unclear. TchB nitt- reflects PTch *nitw- (cf. B naitwe ‘shell’) which may, with VW (319) be from PIE *kneid- [: ON hnīta ‘push against something,’ hnita ‘rivet,’ OE hnītan ‘push, stick,’ Latvian kniẽdêt ‘rivet,’ Greek knízō ‘scratch, pound, chafe,’ Middle Irish cned ‘wound’ (< *knidā-) (P:561-2)], though one would have expected the PIE *-d- to have disappeared before the *-w-. Alternatively, one might related nitt- to PIE *g^hneid^h- [: OE gnīdan ‘rub (off),’ OHG gnītan ‘id.,’ Latvian gnīde ‘rough, dirty skin,’ etc. (P:437)]. +See also nitmo and naitwe. +

+ + +
+

+nitmo +(adj.) +‘collapsing’
+[m: nitmo, -, -//] +t[oṃ] w[e]ña Hetubā[like rekau]na kärstautstsai weśeññaisa nitmo ‘H. spoke these words with breaking voice, collapsing’ (283a2). +∎A derivative of nitt-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nitya +(n.) +‘constant or indispensable rite or act’
+(202a3). +∎From BHS nitya-. +

+ + +
+

+nip- +(vt.) +‘± pledge’ (?)
+Pt. II /ñāipā-/ [A -, -, ñaipa//] +Purtaśä k_uśāneṃ nocot ñaipa taisa 6000 makte nocot k_uśāneṃ kamate 1000 ‘P. pledged a nocot of k_uśānes, thus 6,000; he himself brought 1,000 k_uśānes as a nocot’ (490b-I-5/6). +‣Sieg (1950:221) suggests that nocot nip- might mean ‘abheben’ (‘withdraw [money]’) while nocot pär/kām- could be ‘abholen’ (‘collect [money]’). The interpretation is possible but by no means certain. +∎It is likely that we have a borrowing from Iranian, cf. Khotanese nvī (< *nipīya-) ‘pledge’ (Bailey, 1979:196), Manichean Sogdian np’q ‘pledge’, Zoroastrian Pehlevi np’k ‘pledge’, Khwarazmian nibāk ‘pledge’, the latter three reflecting a Proto-Iranian *nipāka-, a nominal derivative of *ni-pā- ‘deposit, pledge’ (the verb itself appears to be nowhere attested in Iranian). +

+ + +
+

+nipūrtse* +(adj.) +‘adorned with footbells’
+[f: // -, -, nipūrtsana] +siknaṃ nipūrtsana paine[sa] ‘he steps (forward) with feet adorned with footbells’ (H-149.150.b2 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:12]). +‣The translation is Hilmarsson's. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+nimittājñe* +(adj.) +‘acquainted with omens’
+[m: -, -, nimittājñeṃ//] +(350b1). +∎From BHS nimittājña-. +

+ + +
+

+niyam +(n.) +‘fixed course, unchangeableness’
+[niyam, -, -//] +(193a6). +∎From BHS niyama-, or niyāma-. +

+ + +
+

+nirupadhiśeṣ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘free from the influence of upadhi’
+(113b3). +∎From BHS nirupadhideśeṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+nirodha +(n.) +‘suppression (of pain)’
+(580a4). + -- nirodhäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the suppression of pain’ (520a4). +∎From BHS nirodha-. +

+ + +
+

+nirjvare +(adj.) +‘free from disease, healthy, sound’
+[m: nirjvare, -, -//] +(509b3). +∎From BHS nirjvara-. +

+ + +
+

+nirmāṇarati* +(n.) +a class of gods
+[-, -, nirmāṇarati//] +(525b7). +∎From BHS nirmāṇarati-. +

+ + +
+

+nirmite +See nermite. +

+ + +
+

+niryuhaṃ +(n.) +‘decoction, extract’
+[niryuhaṃ -, -//] +niryuhaṃ yamaṣle yenteṣṣana tekanmane kartse ‘the decoction [is] to be made; [it is] good for wind diseases’ (Y-2b6). +∎From BHS niryūha-. +

+ + +
+

+Nirvāṇavārg* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Nirvāṇavarga’ (a portion of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Nirvāṇavārg//] +(S-6a5). +

+ + +
+

+nirvaṃṣṣe +See nervāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+nilutpāl ~ nilotpāl +(n.) +‘Nymphaea stellata Willd.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[nilutpāl ~ nilotpāl, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS nīlotpala-. +

+ + +
+

+nivāräṃ* +(n.) +‘hindrance to religious life, besetting sin’
+[//-, -, nivārä(nä)nta] +(252a2). +∎From BHS nīvaraṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+niśācare +(n.) +‘jackal’
+[niśācare, -, -//] +(511a3). +∎From BHS niśācara-. +

+ + +
+

+niśrai +(n.) +‘support, basis; residence’
+[niśrai, -, niśrai//] +(318a3). +∎From BHS niśraya-. +

+ + +
+

+niṣīdaṃ* +(n.) +‘sitting-mat’
+[-, -, niṣīdaṃ//] +niṣīdaṃ kamāte Andhave warttone masa ompalskoññe lamatsi ‘Andhava gathered up his sitting-mat and went into the forest to meditate’ (H-149.X4a3 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎From BHS niṣīdana-. +

+ + +
+

+niṣke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(golden) ornament, jewel’
+[niṣke, -, -//] +kälṣamñeṣṣe niṣke su prākre tākoy-ñ arañce ‘may my heart be strong [as] the jewel of patience’ (S-5b1). +∎BHS niṣka-. +

+ + +
+

+niṣkramā(ṃt)* +name of a meter of 4 X 17 syllables (rhythm 6/6/5 or 5/7/5)
+[-, -, niṣkramā(ṃt)//] +(81a2, 347a3). +

+ + +
+

+nisargi +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘involving forfeiture [of a monk's right to share in garments of the order]’
+k_use ṣamāne ṣañ ṣarsa naumiy[e ta]läṣṣäṃ ... ni [abbrev. for nisargi] ‘whatever monk bears a jewel with his own hand, niḥsargika’ (337a1/2). +∎From BHS niḥsargika-. +See also naisargi. +

+ + +
+

+nu- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘cry out; threaten’; K [only with cognate accusative newe] ‘roar a roar, shout a shout’
+G Ps. III /ñewe-/ [MP -, -, ñewetär//]; Ko. V /nuwā-/ [MPOpt. -, -, nuwoytär//]; Pt. Ia /näwā-/ [MP -, -, nawatai, -//]; PP /nuwo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /nuwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, nuṣt (< *nuwäṣt), -//; AImpf. -, -, nūwäṣṣi//]; Pt. II /ñāwā-/ [A -, -, ñāwa//] +mamāntaṣ cew palskosa reki kca weṣṣäṃ yolo yāmtsi ñeweträ ‘with this evil-minded spirit he speaks some word and threatens to do evil’ (K-3b6); pontäṃts kärtseṣc [sic] nawatai ‘thou didst cry out for the good of all’ (224a3); /// wän[tr]e - no nwau yän pūdñakte ywau/// (342b7); newe nūwäṣṣi ṣecakäṃñe snai proskai ‘he roared the lion's roar without fear’ [= ‘he roared fearlessly like a lion’] (244b1); ñāwa newe wrocce ṣecakäññe ce_u ‘he roared the great lion roar’ (220a2). + -- nūwalñe ‘± shout, roar’ (?): (222b4, AMB-b5); +
+nwalñeṣṣe* ‘± prtng to a shout or roar’ (?): stmau ṣña-nwalñeṣṣepi Sumerntse mrācne ‘standing on the summit of self-proclaiming Sumeru’ (TEB-58-19). +∎AB nu- reflect PTch *nu- from PIE *neu- ‘shout, cry aloud (in praise)’ [: Sanskrit návate ‘cries out, praise,’ Persian navīdan ‘complain,’ nōyīdan ‘cry aloud,’ navānīdan ‘cause to cry,’ Khotanese (3rd. pl.) nuvaindä ‘howl’ [of wolves, jackals] (stem nuvā-), Old Irish núall ‘cry, alarm, proclamation’ (< *neu-slo-), Latin nūntius ‘(official) message’ (P:767; MA:89)] (Reuter, 1934: 11, Lane, 1938:29, VW:320-1). +See also newe. +

+ + +
+

+nuk- +(vt.) +‘swallow’
+Ps. VI /nuknā-/ [A -, -, nuknaṃ//]; Ko. V /nāukā- ~ nukā-/ [A -, -, naukaṃ//; AOpt. -, nukoyt, -//]; PP /nuko-/ +mäṃ[t] ptesä srukalleṣṣe mādār se pontäṃ nuknaṃ pontäṃntso akalkänta kärstoca (295b3); te tsatsaltarmeṃ naukäṃn-ne [sic] ‘having chewed it, he will swallow it’ (407a1/2), [nuko]yt = BHS gileḥ (U-20b6); yokaiṣṣe śvāl nukowä ‘having swallowed the food of desire’ (295a7), aklilyñe su cpi mäsketrä tanā-mot ramt solme nukowa [lege: nukowä] (407a3/4). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (321) suggests a PIE *g^hnu-g^h- or the like and relates it to the isolated Greek khnaúō ‘nibble’ (which Frisk labels as "popular and expressive"). Such a relationship is a possibility though neither the meaning nor the phonology is particularly encouraging. +

+ + +
+

+Nupūra +(n.) +‘Nūpura’ (PN of a prince)
+[Nupūra, -, -//] +(589a5). +

+ + +
+

+nusk- +(vt.) +‘squeeze; oppress, depress’
+Ps. IXb /nuskäsk^'ä/_e- ~ ñuskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, nuskäṣṣäṃ ~ ñuskaṣṣäṃ// -, -, nuskäskeṃ; MP nuskaskemar, -, nuskästär//]; Ko. II /ñusk^ä/_e-/ (see abstract); Pt. III /ñāusk(sā)-/; PP /ñeñusku-/ +yokye kleśo mi[y]äṣṣäṃ [tane on]olmeṃ saṃsārne nuskaṣṣän-[m]e ‘the thirst-kleśa harms men here; it oppresses them in the saṃsāra’ (llb5), kwipe-ike ke_uwco kaltärr-ne tu maśne enkastär nuskaṣṣäṃn-ne ‘his shame-place [= penis] stands tall; he takes it in [his] fist and squeezes it’ (334a4), mā miyäṣṣäṃ ono[lmeṃ mā] ra palsko ñus[kaṣṣäṃ] (523b2), onmiṣṣana pwārasa tsäksemane marmanma tronktse stām ra sälpiñ cittsa wolokmar nuskaskemar marmanma inkauṃ kästwer ‘with fires of remorse burning in [my] veins like a hollow tree [burns], with glowing spirit I remain; I squeeze my veins day and night’ (TEB- 64-05), [yes mā] nu[skas]trä päl[sk]onta ‘it does not depress your spirits’ (45a5); läklentaṣṣe nauskene ñauskuwa ñäś aräñcaṃ [lege: aräñcä] ‘with the depression of sufferings, I squeeze [my] heart’ (228b2). + -- ñuṣṣalñe ‘± oppression’ (H-150.45a4 [K]). +∎TchB nusk- reflects PTch *nusk-, perhaps (as if) from PIE *nu-sḱe/o- ‘± bend’ [: Sanskrit návate, nauti ‘moves’ (intr.), Greek neúō ‘nod, beckon (as a sign); bend forward; decline,’ Latin re-nuō ‘nod back the head; deny, reject (by motion of the head),’ nūtō ‘nod, stagger, sway,’ Old Irish nóïd ‘makes known,’ etc. (P:767)]. The vowel of nusk- is a rebuilt zero-grade (Adams, 1978) while ñusk- may represent PIE *neu-sḱe/o-. Alternatively we may follow VW (321-2) who suggests, in effect, a PIE *gneuh_x-sḱe/o-, and a connection with Old Norse knȳja ‘press, strike,’ Old English cnūwian ‘press,’ cnēowian ‘coire,’ Serbian gnjávati ‘press’ (P:371). As Pinault has amply demonstrated (1990:194-6), the apparently similar TchA wnisk- means ‘torture’ and is thus to be kept separate (Pinault himself suggests a *wi-nik-sḱe/o- for TchA where *neik- is ‘begin, put into movement, attack’). +See also nauske. +

+ + +
+

+nutstse* +(adj.) +‘± nugatory’ or ‘disappearing’ (?)
+[f: //nuttsana, -, -] +nauṣañana yolaina yamornta nutsana mäskenträ ‘earlier evil deeds become nugatory/disappear’ (552a4/5), empelona ra yāmwa tākaṃ yāmornta āñm-nākälñesa nuttsāna pest klautkonträ ‘even if evil deeds have been done, they become completely nugatory/disappear completely through self-reproach’ (K-3b2). +∎Probably a derivative of some sort of naut- ‘destroy.’ The semantic development might be something like *‘destroyed’ > *‘annulled’ > ‘nugatory’ (cf. VW:322). +See also naut-. +

+ + +
+

+-ne¹ +enclitic oblique third person singular pronoun. +∎TchA -ṃ and B -ne reflect, in some fashion, the PIE pronominal *h₁eno-/h₁ono- [: Greek keînos (< *ke- + -h₁eno-), Latin enim ‘namely, for instance,’ Lithuanian añs ~ anàs ‘that,’ Greek nē ‘namely,’ Sanskrit nānā ‘so-and-so,’ etc. (P: 319-21)] (VW, 1941:71, Pisani, 1941-42:9, VW, 1976:308). +See also nai. +

+ + +
+

+-ne² +locative postposition +∎TchA -aṃ and B -ne reflect PTch *-ne (the -a- of TchA is the thematic vowel reassigned to the locative ending). PTch *-ne is from *h₁eno, or perhaps *h₁endo, part of the wide-flung etymon of *h₁en ‘in’ and *h₁on ‘on’ [: Greek en, ‘in,’ Latin in ‘in,’ English in, etc. (P:311ff; MA:290)] (Klingenschmitt, 1975). +See also eneṃ, nes-, and words beginning with the prefix y(n)-. +

+ + +
+

+neuske +See nauske. +

+ + +
+

+nekarṣke +‘?’
+/// [s]e pañäktaññe pelaikne ate tot empreṃtse swāre nekarṣke pällarṣke ste (101a5), /// gandharvv[i] śark[a] yāmṣyeṃ nekarṣk[e] /// (382al). +‣Perhaps in both cases we have a miswriting for takarṣke. +

+ + +
+

+nekcīye +(adv.) +‘last night, at night’
+Upoṣathe ... śem nekcīye piś-känte ceṃ ñakteṃmp=eṣe ‘U. came at night with 500 [other] gods’ (23a1), māka k_uce twe nekciye pwārntse /// (H-149.296b3 [Pinault, 1990:185]). +∎TchA nakcu ‘id.’ and B nekcīye represent the adverbial use of an adjective from PTch *nek^wcäwye- (as if) from PIE *nok^wtewyo-, a derivative of *nek^wt- ‘night’ [: Sanskrit nák (stem nakt-), Greek núks (gen. nuktós), Albanian natë, Latin nox (gen. noctis), Old Irish i-nnocht ‘hac nocte,’ Gothic nahts, Lithuanian naktìs, OCS noštь, Hittite nekuts ‘at night’ (P:762-3; MA:394)]. The PIE u-stem *nok^wtu- is otherwise seen in Sanskrit aktú- ‘night, obscurity,’ Germanic *unhtwōn- ‘morning twilight’ [: Gothic ūhtwo, OHG uohta] and TchA nokte ‘at night’ and noktiṃ ‘last night’ (Pinault, 1990:181-190). The existence of A nakcu precludes taking B nekciye to be from a PIE *nok^wtiyo- as is usually done (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:267, VW:319). +

+ + +
+

+nete +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± power’
+[nete, -, -//] +ṣañ läklenta warpatsi waśīr klautkoy-ñ arañce tsmoytär-ñ ‘may my heart become diamond to endure my own sufferings; may my power grow’ (S-8b1), tsmoytär-ñ nete pälskoṣṣe anklautka[t]te ‘may my spiritual and unchangeable power increase’ (S-8b2). +∎TchA nati ‘id.’ and B nete reflect PTch *nete, in the case of TchB, or *netäi (like B leki beside leke ‘bed’), in the case of A. PTch *nete would be from a PIE *noto-, a thematic derivative of *net- ‘help, support’ otherwise seen only in Germanic, e.g. Gothic niþan ‘help, support,’ OHG gināda ‘divine favor, grace,’ Old Saxon (gi)nātha ‘help, grace, favor’ (VW:310). +

+ + +
+

+netke* +(n.) +‘urging, prompting’
+[-, -, netke//] +cäñcrona wñasta ... ṣäñ krentauna snai netka [lege: netke] ‘thou didst speak thy own dear virtues without urging’ (248b3). +∎A derivative of nätk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nette-sūtär +(n.) +‘conduct-sūtra’
+[nette-sūtär, -, -//] +(203a1). +∎From BHS nītisūtra-. +

+ + +
+

+nemce +(adv.) +‘certainly, surely’
+śaul nemce tärkänālle kreñcepi ste śaum[o]ntse ‘life is certainly to be released by the good man’ (133a6). +∎TchA neñci ‘id.’ and B nemce reflect PTch *nem(äñ)cye. TchA shows regular loss of the final vowel and concomitant vocalization of the *-y-. Both languages show a reduction of the complex medial cluster *-m(äñ)c-. It becomes -ñc- in A (one should note that PTch *-e- is preserved before -ñ- in A) and *-m(äñ)cy- to -m(ñ)c- in B. It is possible that PTch *nem(äñ)cye is to be resolved as *ne- (pronominal as in -¹ne) + -mänt- (cf. mant) + -ye- ‘± of thus sort’ (cf. the similar analysis of VW:317). See following entry. +

+ + +
+

+nemcek +(adv.) +‘certainly, surely’; ([indelinable] adj.) ‘certain, sure’
+cmetär ka ksa kr_ui nemcek postäṃ sruketrä ‘if someone is born, he will surely die’ (284a2/3), källoym oko nemcek ce po cmelane ‘may I achieve this certain result in all births’ (S-3b4). + -- nemcekaññe ‘infallible’: nemcekaṃñe = BHS niratyayam (Y-2a2). +∎From nemce, q.v., + the strengthening particle -k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+nerke* +(n.) +‘hesitation, delay’
+[-, -, nerke//] +[walo] weṣṣäṃ käṣṣi snai nerke yänmaskau pwārṣai koṣkaine ‘the king says: teacher, without hesitation I [will] enter in the fiery hut’ (100a5). +∎A derivative of närk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nermit yām- +(vt.) +‘form, fashion’
+nermit yāmṣencai wnolmeṃ okt-yaknes=astareṃ ‘fashioner of creatures pure in the eightfold way’ (TEB-59-29). +∎From BHS nirmita-. +See also nermite*. +

+ + +
+

+nermite* +(adj.) +‘artificial, visionary’
+[m: //-, -, nermiteṃ] +śwāra kälymiṃ po prautkar nermi[t]eṃ [p]oyśintasa ‘in all four directions they are confined by visions of buddhas’ (108b6), n[i]rm[i]teṃ[mpa] amānuṣempa ‘with illusory and inhuman [beings]’ (H-149-ADD.8a1). +∎From BHS nirmita-. +See also nermit yām-. +

+ + +
+

+nervāṃ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘nirvana’
+[nervāṃ nervā(nä)ntse, nervāṃ//] +ramer no ṣpä tsälpeträ saṃsārmeṃ nervāṃ yänmāṣṣäṃ ‘quickly he is freed from the saṃsāra and attains nirvana’ (K-10al). + -- nervāṇäṣṣe ‘prtng to nirvana’: nervāṇäṣṣai ytāri lkāṣṣäṃ ‘he sees the way to nirvana’ (154al). +∎From BHS nirvaṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+newiya +(nf.) +‘canal’
+[newiya, -, -//] +kom-kläskomeṃ orotsa newiya sim ‘on the west the great canal [is] the boundary’ (Tokyo National Museum, Archives, No. 174 [Pinault, 1998]). +∎From a Proto-Eastern Iranian *nawíya, itself from Proto-Indo-Iranian *naHwíya- ‘± boatable’ (i.e., deep enough to allow a boat or to require one), a derivative of *naHu- ‘boat.’ Cf. Avestan āfš nāvayā ‘water channel,’ Sogdian n’wyk ‘deep,’ Sarikoli wanεw ‘irrigation ditch’ (< *wi-nāwiyā), Sanskrit nāvyā ‘navigable river’ (Adams, 1998). +

+ + +
+

+newe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘roar’
+[-, -, newe//] +te-mant ñāwa newe wrocce ṣecakäññe ce_u ‘thus he roared this great lion roar’ (220a2). +∎A derivative of nu-, q.v. +See also newe_u*. +

+ + +
+

+newe_u* +(adj.) +‘resounding’
+[m: -, -, newent//] +pelaikneṣṣe kerū cai śtwār=emprenma newe [lege: newent] ce ente pyāśyeṃ ‘if these four truths strike the resounding drum of the law’ (S-5b2). +∎An adjectival derivative in -w/-nt- of newe*. +

+ + +
+

+neṣamye* +(n.) +‘evil-rumor’
+[-, -, neṣamye//] +tattaṃ nāki neṣmye snai yamor ... nraine tänmastär ‘[if] someone lays out reproach and evil-rumor without reason, ... he will be [re-]born in hell’ (15a6=17a8). +∎Etymology obscure. TchA naṣmi ‘id.’ and B neṣmye reflect a PTch *neṣämiye but further connections are dubious (so VW:310). Isebaert (1977[79]) suggests a PIE *noḱsḱe-mo-, a derivative of a putative *noḱsḱe/o- ‘± accabler, charger, objecter’ from *neḱ- ‘destroy.’ +

+ + +
+

+nes- +(vi.) +‘be, exist’ [as auxiliary with the PP = ‘have’]
+Ps. I /nes-/ [A nesau, nest, nesäṃ/-, -, nesteṃ/ nesem, nescer ~ neścer, nesäṃ; MPPart. nesamane; Ger nesalle]; Inf. /nestsi/; Copular Present /ste ~ stare/ [A -, star, ste (star + enclitic)// -, -, stare ~ skente (skentar + enclitic)]; Imperfect /ṣei-/ [A ṣaim ~ ṣeym, ṣait, ṣai ~ ṣey//ṣeyem, ṣaicer, ṣeyeṃ ~ ṣeṃ]; Ko. V /tākā-/ [A tākau, tākat, tākaṃ//tākaṃ tākacer, tākaṃ; AOpt. tākoym, tākoyt, tākoy// tākoyem, tākoycer, tākoyeṃ ~ tākoṃ]; Ipv. I /p(ä)tākā-/ [Sg. ptāka; Pl. ptākas]; Pt. Ib /tākā-/ [A takāwa, takāsta, tāka// -, takās, takāre]; PP /tātākā-/ +mā näno ñiś ostäṣṣai wṣeññaine nesew [w]ṣille ntā ‘never again will I dwell in a house-dwelling’ (PK-12H-b5 [Thomas, 1985b:134]), [mā] sū nesäṃ k_use onwaññe tākoy ‘he is not [one] who is immortal’ (2a2), mā tne sāṃksa tot nesäṃ ‘there is not here so much of a community’ (12b5), mā nesäṃ = BHS nāsti (U-18a2), /// [o]rotse-pacere nesteñy antpī ktsaitsī eś-lmoṣä /// ‘both grandfathers are old and blind’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [K. T. Schmidt, 1987:288]), ce peri nesem tu päs aiskem-ne ‘what we owe; we [will] give it back to him’ (DAM.507-a9 [Pinault, 1984a:24]); toṃ ykenta wnolmeṃ[ts] nestsine ‘the places of beings [are] in existence’ (45b3/4), ([nesa]manene = BHS sati (H-149.152a5 [Sieg, Siegling 1930-32:485]), ([ne]sallonaṃtso = BHS agamyānāṃ (H-149.47a2 [Couvreur, 1966:162]); weña saim-wäste=traikatte ptantse aṣāṃ star [2nd sg.] (405a2), [sruka]lñe ste sampauca ‘death is the one who takes’ (4a3), srūkalñe ekñi star-me ‘death is our [only certain] possession’ (12b4), kroścana toṃ nrainta skente ‘these are cold hells’ (18b5), śāmna caimp skente mā yakṣī ‘these are not men, [they are] yakṣas!’ (85a3/4); keklyauṣ[wa] en[ku p]elaiknenta ṣaim ‘I had taken the laws [once] heard’ (15a2=17a2), mäkte pi kca tā onkorñai ñiś śwātsi källālle ṣeym ‘how could I get to eat this porridge?’ (107a3), ṣai ṣlyīye lenke ‘there was a mountain cleft’ (12a3), kwri yarke peti ṣey-me kurpelle ost olypo ṣaicer makci lamalyi ‘if there was a concern on your part for flattery and honor, you yourselves should have stayed at home’ [i.e. not have become monks] (33a7), ṣemi trikoṣ ṣeṃ ‘some were confused’ (24a2), tu wnolmi keklyauṣoṣ ṣeyeṃ ‘the creatures had heard it’ (30b2); tākat ... saim-wäs[t]e ‘thou wilt be the refuge’ (22b2), mai ñi tākaṃ laitalñe wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe ‘will there be a falling on my part from [my] great royal throne?’ (5a4), nai ñak[e] ārw[e]r tākam ‘[if] we are now ready’ (77a1), [mā] sū nesäṃ k_use onwaññe tākoy ‘this is not one who would be immortal’ (2a2), [in Manichean script] t’gvvy [= tākoy] (Winter/Gabain:13), ñi kka ka tākoṃ lāñc ‘only for me alone should there be kings’ (33b3); ārwer ptāka pelaikneṣṣe naumiye klyauṣtsi ‘be ready to hear the jewel of the law!’ (100b5); tañ m[ai]yyane ñiś sanaṃ au[n]u takāwa ‘in thy power I have wounded [my] enemies’ (22a5/6), miñcuṣka takāwa ṣer pudñä[kt]e[ntse] ‘I was a princess, the sister of the Buddha’ (400a5), walo ... ce_u preke śaultsa tāka sklokatstse ‘the king was at that time doubtful concerning [his] life’ (5a2/3), cey śtwer meñi päs takāre ‘these four months were over’ (331a5/b1); wāli ramt tatākausa s[aṃsār-yokye] ‘the saṃsāra-thirst [has] been like a liana’ (11a2). + -- tatākar ‘existence’ (oṃṣap-tatākar = ‘superiority’): ṣemi ksa wnolmi skwassoñc pärweṣṣe tatākarmeṃ tū ompostäṃ läklessoñc no mäskenträ ‘some creatures, having been formerly fortunate, later [are] unfortunate’ (K-7a3), oṃṣap tatākarmeṃ ṣamāni = BHS abhibhūya bhikṣavaḥ (U-2a4); +
+nesalñe ‘existence, situation’: nesalyñe[ntse prutkālñemeṃ] = BHS bhavanirodhā[d] (156b5), sankantse ayāto nesaññe ste ‘the situation of the community is agreeable’ (DAM.507-a4 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), nesalñe = BHS bhava- (PK-NS-53b2 [Pinault, 1988:101]); +
+nesalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to existence’ (600b2); +
+nesalñetstse ‘having [a particular] existence’: [ai]k[e]mane nesalñetstse ‘having the state of existence of knowledge’ [= BHS jñātavihāra] (547b3). +∎TchA nas- and B nes- reflect PTch *nes- which is usually taken as a reflex of PIE *nes- ‘± return safely home; be with’ [: Sanskrit násate ‘approaches, resorts to, copulates,’ niṃsate ‘they touch with the body, kiss’ (< *ninsṇtoi), Greek néomai ‘return home,’ nīsomai ‘id.’ (< *ninsomai), Gothic ganisan ‘be saved, get well, recover,’ nasjan ‘heal,’ etc. (P:766-7; MA:484)] (so Meillet, 1911:456, VW:309; cf. also Jasanoff, 1978:14). The difficulties with this explanation are (1) PTch *nes- must reflect an otherwise unattested o-grade athematic present (or an equally unattested old perfect that has become reinterpreted as a present--so Jasanoff) and (2) it will not explain the "short" form in A, namely nä-, in näṃ ‘is him,’ näm ‘are us,’ etc., or the regular third person plural neñc ‘are.’ It is better to see in nes- an old "locative copula" *h₁(e)no + 's- ‘be here/there’ of the same type seen in medieval Greek éni (Modern Greek eínai) ‘is/are,’ Albanian (Geg) â (with just the preposition alone, as in A näṃ, neñc, etc.) or Greek enésti, Albanian është ‘is’ from *h₁ en + h₁(e)s-ti (this etymology goes back, in nuce, to Pedersen, 1941:161; for the Greek and Albanian, cf. Hamp, 1980; for *h₁es- in general, see P:340-341, MA:53). The *h₁(e)no is, of course, to be seen in the locative postposition -ne, q.v. +
+TchA ṣe- and B ṣei-, the stem of the imperfect reflects an old PIE optative *(h₁)syeh₁-/h₁sih₁- (cf. Old Latin syēs/sītis). Early on in the history of Tocharian these ablauting optatives generalized the -ī- in all verbs except for ‘be’ and ‘go’ (compare later Latin sīs, sit, etc.). PTch *ṣe-, from *h₁syeh₁-, was then recharacterized as an optative/imperfect by the addition of the productive ending -ī-, hence *ṣei- (in nuce Pedersen, 1941:206). Not, with VW (453), from a PIE *sēdy-. +
+B skente reflects PIE *h₁s-sḱo-nto (Meillet, 1914:28, Watkins, 1969:200, VW:428), cf. Old Latin escit, Greek éske. +
+B ste and stare reflect PIE *sth₂-ó and *sth₂-ró respectively (cf. Sanskrit āsthat and ásthiran, Watkins, 1969:90-1, 200). +
+AB tākā- forms the subjunctive and preterite stem for ‘be’ in both A and B (and the imperative in B as well) and reflects PTch *tākā- (as if) from PIE *(s)teh₂-k-eh_a- from *(s)teh₂- ‘stand.’ The s-less variant of *(s)teh₂- is to be found in B tāsk-, q.v., and also in Irish (in the "verbum substantivum" ̇táu, ̇taí, ̇tá) and the enlargement with *-k- is also to be seen in Greek héstēka (Pedersen, 1941:194). In the subjunctive, TchA shows an unextended tā- beside tākā- and in the imperative it has a form with the initial s-, päṣtāk. VW (496) wrongly rejects this etymology in favor of one relating tākā- with PIE *dheh₁- ‘put.’ +See also atākatte, tāsk-, and takarṣke. +

+ + +
+

+neske* +(n.) +‘± tribute’
+[-, -, neske//] +po toṃ yke postäṃ [wṣeññaṃne] neske ram no ñaṣtä[r su srukalñe] onolmeṃ ‘in all such places in sequence death seeks beings as tribute’ (45b4). +∎A derivative (*‘that which is sought/required’) from ñäsk-, q.v. Such a derivation would seem to be more likely on inner- Tocharian grounds than VW's supposition (318) of PIE *h₁nek- ‘take, obtain, carry’ + -sḱo-. +

+ + +
+

+nai +([intensifying] particle) +‘indeed, then, surely’
+ñäś mā yesaññe wase yokalle rekaunaṣṣe | mā tañ kc=āyor aille nesau mā=lyekepi ten nai pkārsa päst paṣ ñy ostameṃ ‘I will not drink the poison of thy words, neither will I give any gift to thee or to another; know this well! Go away from my house!’ (23b5/6), sklok ket ra nai mā tsänkau ste k_use cmīträ mā srūko[y] ‘doubt has arisen surely to no one [that] whoever is born might not die’ (46b2), tus[ā]ks[a] nai ñak[e] ārw[e]r tākam ... ot cwi sp[aktanīki alā]läcci tākam ‘[if] thus we are now completely ready, then we will be to him untiring servants’ (77al/2). +∎TchA -ne (a particle which characterizes certain indefinite and relative pronouns) and B nai reflect PTch *nāi from PIE *nai (*neh_ai?) [: Greek naí ‘indeed’] (Smith, 1910:12, Fraenkel, 1932:19, VW:317). +

+ + +
+

+naitwe* +(n.) +‘± shell; plough-share (?); temple (of the head)’
+[-, -, naitwe//] +naitwe kärkāllene släppoṣ kuttipaśaṃ wat parra pānnaṃ ‘[if] he reaches for a plough-share (?) [which has] slipped into the mud or for the kuttipaśaṃ [= BHS kūṭa- ‘body of the plow’?]’ (331a1), naitwe korne karkar yamaṣṣäṃ ‘it causes cancer in the throat or temple’ [naitwe = BHS śaṃkha-] (ST-a5). +∎A derivative of nitt- ‘collapse, destroy,’ q.v. For the semantics one might compare OE scealu or sciell, both ‘shell’ from PIE *skel- ‘cut (off).’ So of course is the plough-share the "cutter" (cf. the relationship of -share and shear). +

+ + +
+

+naimaññe* +(adj.) +adjective denoting the first month
+[m: -, -, naimaññe//] +naimañe meṃne ikäṃ-śwerne (G-Su7). +‣For the designations of the months, see s.v. meñe. +∎Etymology uncertain. Morphologically we would seem to have an adjectival derivative from an unattested noun *naim. It is phonologically possible to see this naim as the reflex of a PIE *nowismos ‘newest’ as the designation of the New Year. It would be entirely parallel to Latin brūma ‘winter solstice’ from *morg^whismeh_a ‘shortest.’ +

+ + +
+

+Nairañjaṃ* +(n.) +‘Nairañjanā’ (PN of a river in Magadha)
+[-, -, Nairañjaṃ//] +(107b4). +

+ + +
+

+naivasaṃjñāṃ* +(n.) +‘state of neither consciousness nor unconsciousness’
+[-, -, naivasaṃjñāṃ//] +(297b7). +∎Shortened and borrowed from BHS naivasaṃjñānāsaṃjñā-. +

+ + +
+

+naiṣyandik +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘pertaining to the outcome or result’
+(41a3). +∎From BHS naiṣyandika-. +

+ + +
+

+naiṣṣi* +(n.) +a foodstuff (?)
+[-, -, naiṣṣi//] +traiy meñantse-ne trukāle Tuṣi wasa kantine ynaikentāñe naiṣṣi śwāle wasa ‘on the third of the month Tuṣi gave [as his] share in bread ynaikentāñe and naiṣṣi; he gave [it] for food’ (433a14). +

+ + +
+

+naisargi +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘[wrong-doing] involving forfeiture’
+k_use ṣamāne aletstsai aśīyantse yākwa lāṃssi aiṣṣäṃ ... naisargi ‘whatever monk gives wool to be worked by an unrelated nun, naisargi’ (PK-AS-18A-a1 [Thomas, 1978:238]). +∎From BHS naiḥsargika-. +See also nisargi. +

+ + +
+

+naisalñe +See nesalñe, s.v. nes-. +

+ + +
+

+no +([enclitic] conjunction) +‘however; but’ [adversative, hence epe no, wat no]; ‘(al)though; then’ [connective, hence commonly in if-clauses]
+[klo]yonträ no ponta räṣyeṃträ ‘they all fall or are plucked’ (1b3=2a8), waimenetse śaul totk= āttsaik su ṣp laklempa rittowo mā no wnolmy aikenträ ‘life is difficult and short and bound up with suffering but creatures do not notice’ (3b6), tā no [= BHS hi] ytāri tne ñäkcyai weskeṃ po pudñäkti ‘for this way all buddhas call divine’ (23a3), no = BHS vai hi (24b6), mā nw ayu-ne mäkte ‘how, then [= what will happen, then], [if] I don't give it?’ (25a7), yāmtar no yāmor kwri twe ‘if, however, thou dost the deed’ (128a6), se no akliñe ste = BHS ayaṃtv āgamo (199b3), lkoym-c kr_ui ... yapit wat no wertsyainne ... keṃ ññi rämnoyeṃ ‘whenever I would see thee or [whenever] thou didst enter in the assembly, they would bow to the ground’ (246a2), [yamaskemane] no lāre yamasträ = BHS kurvāṇam upasevate (308b7/8), eśatkai śāte ekaññetstse olyapotstse sa [lege: su] no entsesse ‘he [was] very rich and possessed of much, but he [was] greedy’ (375a4), [k_use] no reki ecce rito[w]o = BHS yā hi vācābhinanditā (H-ADD. 149.96a4 [Thomas, 1969:314]), mā cäñcan-me āyor aitsi olypotse śateñ no ‘it does not please them to give a gift, though they [are] very rich’ (K-6a2), +∎TchA nu and B no reflect PTch *nū from PIE *nū [: Sanskrit nū, Greek nûn, Latin num, Gothic nu, Lithuanian nù, all ‘now,’ OCS nъ ‘but, however,’ Hittite nu connective sentence initial particle, etc. (P:770; MA:397)] (Smith, 1910:13, VW:320). +See also nano and nonk. +

+ + +
+

+nonk +(conj.) +‘± however’
+/// [wä]tkālyce nonk /// (223.1b), aikäruṣa ket pälsko snai säk[w] yaitu kektseñä nonk ausu ramt pakware mā prutkäṣṣäṃ we[rtsyai]ne (254b3=255b2). +∎Related in some fashion to no, q.v. Presumably we have an old collocation of no + nke and/or of no + -k(ä) (the intensifying particle) (so VW:320). +

+ + +
+

+nocot* +(n.) +‘± deposit’ (?)
+[-, -, nocot//] +Purtaśä k_uśāneṃ nocot ñaipa taisa 6000 makte nocot k_uśāneṃ kamate 1/// ‘for P. pledged (?) a deposit of k_uśānes, thus: 6,000; he himself brought a deposit of 1,000’ (490b-I-5/6). +‣Sieg (1950:221) suggests that nocot nip- might mean ‘abheben’ (‘withdraw [money]’) while nocot pär/kām- could be ‘abholen’ (‘collect [money]’). Thus nocot might be more or less the equivalent of German ab ‘down, away (from).’ More likely than an otherwise unknown adverb attested only in adjacent lines with two different verbs is an interpretation that takes it to be a noun with some sort of "commercial" meaning. +∎Very tentatively one might suggest ‘deposit’ and see this word as an old compound of Proto-Tocharian *ne ‘in’ + the descendant of a PIE *d^heh₁tu-, a verbal noun from *d^heh₁- ‘place, put.’ +

+ + +
+

+naut- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘disappear, be destroyed’; K ‘destroy’
+G Ko. V /nāutā-/ [A -, -, nautaṃ// -, -, nautaṃ; AOpt. -, -, nautoy//; Ger. nautalle]; Pt. Ib /nāutā-/ [A -, -, nauta// -, -, nautare]; PP /nānāutā-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /nāutäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, nautäṣṣäṃ//; APart. nautäṣṣeñca]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [Inf. nautäs(t)si]; Pt. IVb /nāutäṣṣā-/ [A // -, -, nautäṣṣare] +nautaṃ-me perne tumeṃ yukseṃ ce_u aly[ai]k ‘worthiness disappears from them and others conquer it’ (22a4), ciṣṣe saimäś kloyomar nauyto-ñ [sic] yāmor ‘I fall to the shelter of thee; may my karma disappear’ (TEB-64-11), nautalyi = BHS kṣayāntāḥ (304a5); cine yāmu śrigupti yolo yāmor nautā-ne ciṣṣek saimtsa ‘who has taken refuge in thee, to him is the evil karma destroyed by [being in] thy refuge’ (TEB-64-12), asta nautareṃ [lege: nautare-ñ] ‘my bones disappeared’ (584a6); k_use no cey wnolmi ket śaul nanautau ‘who then [are] these creatures whose life [is] lost’ (K-7a4), yāmor śaul ṣpä antpi tākaṃ nanautaṣ [dual] ‘deed and life, both will be lost’ (K-7a6); ñäkcye pilkw āstreṃ erṣträ ṣpä nautäṣṣäṃ po tsnamñenta ‘he evokes the divine, pure, insight and it destroys all [external] influences’ (31a8/b1); [ l]äk[l]enta nautastsi sā ytarye ste ‘this is the way to destroy sufferings’ (281a5), nautästsi = BHS glapayitum (H-149.242b2 [Couvreur, 1966:169]); cai tot wrocci rṣāki mā lklenta nautṣar=eṃṣketse ‘[even] such great wisemen have not destroyed sufferings completely’ (30a1). + -- nanautarmeṃ: nanauta[r]meṃ ṣärmänmats ‘after the destruction of origins’ (295a4); +
+nautalñe ‘disappearance, destruction’: serke cmelñe srukalñents=eṃṣketse nautalñe yāmtsi ‘to make permanent the disappearance of the circle of birth and death’ (30a3), [śconaint]s[e] n[au]t[a]lñem[eṃ] = BHS dveṣakṣayād (H-149-ADD.124a1 [Thomas, 1974:97] = U-25), aknātsaññentse nautalñe[meṃ] = BHS mohakṣayād (H-149-ADD.124a2 [ibid.:90]). +∎TchA nut- and B naut- reflect PTch *nut- (TchB has generalized the full-grade resulting from ā-umlaut). This *nut- is (as if) from PIE *neh_au-T-, an extended variant of *neh_au- ‘die; destroy’ [: Baltic: Latvian nâwe ‘death,’ nâwêt ‘kill,’ Lithuanian nõwė ‘torment (of death), death,’ nõwyti ‘oppress, torment, destroy;’ Slavic: Old Russian navь ‘cadaver;’ and Germanic: Gothic naus ‘cadaver’ (P:756; MA:150)] (Lane, 1938:27, VW:322, with differing details). The dental extension in Tocharian perhaps represents the generalization of a *-d^h- present. The root without a dental extension is probably to be seen in TchA nwām ‘sick’ (an old verbal adjective [as is the TchB equivalent alāṣmo] in *-mo from a PTch verbal stem *nuwā-). +See also anautatte and probably nutstse. +

+ + +
+

+naunto* +(nm.) +‘street’
+[-, -, nauntai//nauntaiñ, -, nauntaiṃ] +ṣek sū yaskastär [] nauntai nauntai ostä ostä ‘always he begs, street [by] street, house [by] house’ (33b3), toṃ mä[n]t stā[na]sa yaitoṣ nauntaiñä ‘as the streets decorated by these trees’ (275a3), yaka ynemane nauntaine klāya ‘while still walking in the street she fell’ (H-149.X.5a4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎Etymology uncertain. Semantically difficult is the suggestion of VW (1972:392-3, 1976:310-11) or Hilmarsson (1989a:25-26) of a derivative from PIE *neih_x- ‘lead’ (Hilmarsson suggests a PIE *noih_xo-unt-ōn- or *noih_xo-wṇt-ōn- > *neyeuntān- or *neywäntān- with contraction > *neuntān- or *newäntān-). +

+ + +
+

+naumikke* +(adj.) +‘± shining, jewel-like’
+[m: /-, -, naumikkane/] +naumikkane lkāṣn eśnesa ‘he looks with brilliant eyes’ (33b1/2). +∎A derivative of naumiye, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+naumiye +(nnt.) +‘jewel, pearl’
+[naumiye, naumiyentse, naumiye//naumiyenta, naumiyentaṃts, naumiyenta] +pelaikneṣṣana naumyenta kāratsiśco ‘to gather the jewels of the law’ (23a7), yasa ñkantesa warñai naumiyenta ‘jewels of gold, silver, etc.’ (PK-AS-18A-a3 [Thomas, 1978:239]). + -- naumiyeṣṣe ‘prtng to jewels; bejeweled’: [n]aumiyeṣṣe taupe ‘a jewel mine’ (153a6), naumyeṣṣe kṣātre ‘a bejeweled parasol’ (567a2); +
+naumiye-yok ‘jewel-like’: (565b5). +∎Etymology unclear. TchB naumiye is underlyingly /neumiye/ (cf. 587b1). It and its obvious derivative naumikke, along with nautstse ‘shining, brilliant’ may be (as if) from PIE *noud-m- and *noud-tyo- respectively [: Lithuanian naũdyti ‘to desire,’ naudà ‘use, profit, enjoyment,’ Latvian nàûda ‘money,’ OHG niot ‘desire,’ Old English nīed/nēod ‘necessity, compulsion, duty’ (cf. P:768, who groups the Baltic and Germanic forms here quite differently)]. The semantic development in Tocharian would have been something on the order of *‘thing desired’ > ‘jewel, precious stone’ (cf. Latvian nàûda ‘money’). It is likely that TchA ñemi ‘jewel’ is related somehow but in just what way remains mysterious. Not with VW (1941:77, 1976:325) who takes the B form to be from *noimi- with dissimilation and A ñemi from *nēimi- since this assumption does not explain the difference in ablaut grade between A and B nor does it offer a phonological explanation for B nautstse (a form translated as ‘destructive’ by VW). +See also naumikke. +

+ + +
+

+nauṣ +([indeclinable] adj./adv.) +‘prior, former, earlier’
+ytārye nauṣ ‘the former way’ (27b4), nauṣ = BHS purā (30b3), pelaikneṣṣe yerkwantai taiknesa eṣpirtacce nauṣ ... ṣparttaṣṣäṃ ‘he turns thus the formerly unturned wheel’ (30b7/8), mā tn=onuwaññe śāya nauṣ mā ra śaiṃ ksa t=ompostäṃ ‘he did not live formerly here [as an] immortal, likewise he will not live [as an immortal] afterwards’ (45a5), [weñ]āre nauṣ poyśinta ‘earlier buddhas spoke’ (124b7), nauṣ pāke postäṃ pāke ‘the former portion and the latter portion’ (A-1b6), yapoy aiśi yāmtsi mäkte nauṣ ‘to make the realm appear as before’ (A-4a2), samp arāññe ste cwim nauṣ pete ‘this one is an āraṇyaka, give [it] to him first’ (H-149.X.5b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- nauṣäk ‘id.’: srukalyñeṣṣ=īme waṣamo nau[ṣäk] tākaṃ ‘[if] the thought of death has been earlier a friend’ (K-11b6). +∎Etymology uncertain. Obviously related to TchA neṣ ‘id.’ but neither the inner Tocharian relationship nor extra-Tocharian cognates are clear. VW (1972:391-2, 1976:318-9) starts from a PIE *noih₁si-, a derivative of *neih₁- ‘lead’. +See also nauṣameṃ, nauṣaññe, nauṣu. +

+ + +
+

+nauṣameṃ +(adv.) +‘± foremost, first’
+inte nauṣameṃ niśācare tākaṃ wate dhvaje larenämpa śinmalñeṣṣe palskalñe ṣarpi (511a3), tuntse keś nauṣameṃ ste ‘de cela la somme est avant’ (DAM-507-a8 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎In form the ablative of nauṣ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nauṣaññe +(adj.) +‘prior, previous’
+[m: nauṣaññe, -, nauṣaññe//nauṣaññi, -, nauṣaññeṃ] [f: nauṣañña, -, nauṣaññai//nauṣaññana, -, nauṣaññana] +nauṣaññai ... plāc ‘[his] prior speech’ (3a7), nauṣaññana cmela ... epiyac kalatsi ‘to recall previous births’ (31a8), nauṣañña ytārye = BHS purāṇamārga (528b4). +∎An adjectival derivative of nauṣ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nauṣu +(adj.) +‘prior, previous’
+[m: nauṣu, -, nauṣuwent//] +noṣwent kauṃ-ñäkte ‘an earlier sun-god’ (290a4), ksaise ṣamāne ñi nauṣṣu [tatākau] su vyākarit kalpa (400b1). +∎An adjectival derivative of nauṣ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nauske* +(n.) +‘± oppression’
+[-, -, nauske//] +śraddhenäts nauske källāṣn arañcne ‘he brings the oppression of the faithful to [their] heart[s]’ (15b1=17b2/3), läklentaṣṣe nauskene ñauskuwa [sic] ñäś aräñcaṃ [sic] ‘I depressed [my] heart in the oppression of sufferings’ (228b2/3). +∎A derivative of nusk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+nautse +(adj.) +‘± brilliant’
+[m: nautse, -, /nautsi? nautsene?, -, -/] +vajjropämo-samādhiṣṣe cänke nauttse ‘the breast of the thunderbolt-simile-trance [is] brilliant’ (214a5/b1), kaucä cankesa kātso sonopalya śār kātsasa walanalle śanmäṣṣälle cankene nauttse [lege: nauttsi or nauttsene (dual)] mäskentär ‘high over the breast the stomach [is] to be anointed; over the stomach a covering [is] to be bound; the breasts become shining’ (W-14b1/3). +∎Etymology unclear. Since, however, the meaning is not ‘destructive’ vel sim., as is usually assumed on the basis of a presumed relationship with naut-, it must be related in some fashion to naumiye and naumikke. +

+ + +
+

+nta +intensifying particle, usually in negative clauses +śaiṣṣentse kärtseṣc [sic] mā pälsko nta sīntsate-c ‘thy spirit has never been despondent about the food of the world’ (224al), aknātsaññe [wikäs]ts[i] nke kr_ui mā skāyau ente nta kca ṣp ñäskemar tañ e[rsna] lkāts[i] ‘if I do not strive to destroy ignorance and if I should [not] seek to see thy form’ (365b6), mäkcew yāmor nta yamaskentr onolmi ‘what deed do beings do?’ (K-2a6), mā ket ra nta kca aiṣṣäṃ k_use āyor ‘whoever does not give any gift’ (K-6b2). +∎Etymology obscure. Related in some fashion to A ontaṃ ‘id.’ (the o- is no doubt the intensive prefix) but extra-Tocharian connections are not known (VW:336). +See also manta. +

+ + +
+

+nmit* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘sign, characteristic’
+[//nmittänta, -, -] +sruka[l]ñ[eṣ]ṣ[a]na cpi nmittänta ‘the signs of his death’ (118b5). +∎From BHS nimitta-. +

+ + +
+

+Nyagrodhe +(n.) +‘Nyagrodha’ (PN of a buddha)
+[Nyagrodhe, -, -//] +(401a1). +

+ + +
+

+Nyagrodhārām* +(n.) +‘Nyagrodhārāma’ (PN of a park and monastery)
+(109b1). +See also nigrodhārām. +

+ + +
+

+nrai* +(nnt.) +‘hell’
+[-, nraintse, nrai//-, -, nrainta] +nrain=empelye temtsate ‘he was born in a terrible hell’ (4a6), yarp[o] nraints[e oko]sa = BHS puṇyapāpaphala- (4b1), nraintane = BHS narakeṣu (11a4), mäske[nträ] ... keṃ ñor ṣukt nrainta ‘there are beneath the earth these seven hells’ (45b3). + -- nraiṣṣe (adj.) ‘hellish, prtng to hell’; (n.) ‘denizen of hell, one condemned to hell’: [lä]k[l]enta ... nraiṣṣana ‘hellish sufferings’ (14b1), snätkwa po pwāra ñ[i] kektseṃne nraiṣṣana ‘all the hellish fires permeating my body’ (22b7), nraiṣṣeṃts lakle ‘the suffering of those in hell’ (150a6). +∎From BHS niraya-. +

+ + +
+

+nwalñeṣṣe +See nu-. +

+ + +
+

+Pakacandre +(n.) +‘Bhagacandra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Pakacaṃndre, -, -//] +(G-Qa3.3). +

+ + +
+

+pakaccāṃ* +(n.) +‘period of rest from travel during the monsoon’
+[-, -, pakaccāṃ//-, -, pakaccā(nä)nta] +Kṣemaṅkareṃ pañäkte käṣṣintse ṣkaska pakaccānta yamaṣṣ[amai] ‘I made sixty monsoon rest-stops for the buddha-teacher K.’ (400b4). +∎From BHS *upagacchana- ‘entrée, début’ (Isebaert, 1978[80]). +

+ + +
+

+pakartse +(adj.) +‘± obvious’
+[m: pakartse, -, -//] +pakartse/// = BHS pṛthubhūtaṃ (528a3). +∎A derivative in -tstse of pākri/pākre, qq.v. +See also apākärtse, pākri, and pākre. +

+ + +
+

+pakāna +(postposition [with genitive]) +‘for the sake of’
+piś-cmelaṣṣ[eṃ]ts pakāna apiśne ka kwri cmīmar ‘if, for the sake of those of the five births, I would be reborn in Avīci’ (S-8b2), ka ṣp śāśwat oko warpoymar ceṃts pakāna ‘and may I enjoy fixedly the result for their sake’ (TEB-64-04). +∎Etymology unclear. VW suggests (1965:502, 1976:344) that we have here the frozen instrumental of a PIE *wōḱōn- from *weḱ- ‘wish, want’ but assuming a change *w- to p- seems impossible (PTch word internal *-p- sometimes show up as -w- and a word final -v- of a Sanskrit loanword may show up as -p but there is no other confirmed case of an initial *w- so changing). Perhaps we have a derivative of pāke ‘share, portion’ originally meaning *‘for the part of’ or the like. If so, the -ānā would have to be an otherwise unattested postposition. +See also pāke. +

+ + +
+

+pako* +(n.) +‘tail; chowrie’
+[-, -, pakai//] +saiwaisa no Mahiśvare märkwactsa tañ kau_urṣa-pkai ‘on thy left thigh the chowried M.’ (74b5), pakaiś = BHS patatyai (537b1) [ +‣ In form the BHS represents a feminine derivative of patat- ‘flying, falling, etc.,’ --perhaps an otherwise unattested ‘bird's tail’?], pkai-kṣātreṃntsa yarke yamaṣasta-ne ‘thou didst make homage with chowrie and umbrella’ (Qumtura, 34d2 [Pinault, 1993-94:176]). +∎From a pre-Tocharian *pukeh_a(n)-, a derivative of *puk- ‘tail’ [: Sanskrit púccha- ‘tail’ (< *puk-sḱo-), Torwali pūš ‘fox’ (< Proto-Indic *pucchin- ‘having a tail’), OHG fuhs ‘fox’, Old English fox ‘fox’ (< *pukso-), Gothic faúhō ‘fox,’ OHG foha ‘vixen’ (< *pukeh_a-) (P:849; MA:563)] (Pinault, 1993-94:212-213). +

+ + +
+

+pakwāre +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘evil, bad’; (b) ‘evil one’
+[m: pakwāre, -, -//pakwāri, -, pakwāreṃ] [f: //-, -, pakwārona] +(a) mäkte ostä pakwāreṃ aipoṣä swese olypotse kauṣäṃ ‘as the rain hurts severely the badly covered house’ (A-1b2), pakwāreṃ īkene = BHS adeśavāsa- (H-149.289b4); +
+(b) mā no pakwāri ñäkcye śaiṣṣene yaneṃ nta ‘the evil ones, however, do not go to the divine world’ (23b7), pakwārentsa myāska-ne ‘he deceived him with evils’ (PK-AS-18A-b2 [Thomas, 1978:239]). +∎Probably pakwāre reflects (with VW, 1941:85, 1976:345) a PIE *bhoh₁ǵ^h-wōro-, a derivative of bheh₁ǵ^h- ‘struggle’ [: Old Irish bāgaid ‘fights, threatens,’ bāg (f.) ‘struggle,’ OHG bāgan ‘struggle, quarrel,’ Old Norse bāgr ‘difficult,’ Latvian buôzties ‘become angry,’ etc. (P:115)]. +

+ + +
+

+paṅku +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘lame, stiff’
+paṅku krāñi ‘stiff neck’ [= BHS manyā-, in TchB the name of an ailment affecting the body part rather than the designation of a part of the body itself as in BHS] (Y-2a3). +∎From BHS pangu- (Sieg, 1954). +

+ + +
+

+pañäkte +(n.) +‘buddha’
+[pañäkte, pañäktentse ~ pañäkti, pañäkte (voc. pañäkta)//pañäkti, pañäkteṃts, -] +ñaktaikte [sic] pañakte waiyke-welyñe naksate ‘the Buddha, god of gods, reproved the lying speech’ (333a8/9), ṣamāni makci naumīyenta pareṃ pañäkte klyauṣa nāksate ‘the monks themselves are wearing jewels; the Buddha heard [of this] and reproved [them]’ (337a1), pañäkte = BHS buddha- (U-17a5). + -- pañäktäññe ‘prtng to the Buddha’: pañäktäṃñe perneścä ‘for buddha-worth’ (77a6), pañäktäṃñe [perne]ṣṣe akālksa ‘by wish for buddha-worth’ (81a6), pañäktäṃñe = BHS buddhi- (541a6); +
+pañaktäñ-ñeṣṣe* ‘id.’ (95a6); +
+pañäktetstse* ‘having a buddha’ (600a5); +
+pañäkte-käṣṣi ‘the buddha-teacher’ (108a8). +∎An old compound of *pät (< BHS buddha-, see pat) + *ñäkte ‘god,’ q.v. This is the form used in prose; the corresponding word in poetry is pūdñäkte where pūd- is a later, more transparent borrowing from BHS buddha-. TchA ptāñkät, while not identical in formation to B pañäkte, is similar. +See also pūdñäkte, pat, and ñakte. +

+ + +
+

+pañai* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, pañai//] +pañai treṅke cmelaṣṣe tnek [k]lautkäsi [yatäṃ ṣpä] (554a6). +

+ + +
+

+pañcakavvi +(n.) +‘pañcagavya’ [a medical ointment]
+[pañcakavvi, -, -//] +(P-3b6). +∎From BHS pañcagavya-. +

+ + +
+

+pañcake +‘?’
+///pañcake tsa/// (285b3). +

+ + +
+

+pañcagati* +a meter of 21/21/18/13 syllables (rhythm a/b: 8/7/6, c: 9/9, d:7/6)
+[-, -, pañcagati//] +(88a5). +‣Cf. TchA pañcagatinaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+pañcama +‘± fifth’ (‘fifth day of a lunar fortnight’?)
+(405a4). +∎From BHS pañcama-. +

+ + +
+

+pañcam* +a meter of 4 X 14 syllables (rhythm 7/7)
+[-, -, pañcam//] +(523a2). +

+ + +
+

+Pañcaśikhi* +(n.) +‘Pañcaśikhi’ (PN of a gandharva)
+[-, -, Pañcaśikhi//] +(294a11, 296b8). +

+ + +
+

+pañcābhi +‘?’
+[ñäkt]eṃts yakṣeṃts ā[sur]e[ṃts pa]ñ[c]ābhi /// (523b8). +

+ + +
+

+pañcwarike +(n.) +‘monastic head gardener’
+[pañcwarike, -, -//] +pañcwarike Jñānacaṃndre lyāka ‘the pañcwarike J. has seen [this]’ (433a3). +∎From BHS *pañcavaṭika- (Krause and Thomas, 1964:206; the word is not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+pañcwarṣik* +(n.) +‘quinquennial festival-gathering of the Buddhist order’
+[//-, -, pañcwarṣikänta] +[aśvame]t wärñai yāmäṃ wrotstsana telkanma [] pañcwarṣikänta kakonta wrocceṃ stamäṣṣäṃ ‘he will perform the great sacrifices, the aśvamedha, etc., he establishes the great invitations and the five-year festivals’ (290al). +∎From BHS pañcavarṣika-. +

+ + +
+

+paṭak* +(n.) +‘kettle-drum’
+/// [y]sāṣṣeṃ kerunta paṭa/// ‘the golden kettle-drums’ [dyadic] (383a2). +∎Sieg and Siegling (1953:253) give a Pali paṭaha- ‘kettle-drum.’ +

+ + +
+

+paṇḍarauñe* +(n.) +‘jaundice’
+[-, -, paṇḍarauñe//] +paṇḍarauñe rätrauñene ‘in [cases of] jaundice or redness’ (P-3a5). +∎This abstract noun presupposes an underlying adjective *paṇḍare from BHS paṇḍara- (= pāṇḍu-). +

+ + +
+

+paṇḍurānkäññe* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 9 syllables (rhythm 4/5)
+[-, -, paṇḍurākäññe//] +(99b5, 397b4). +

+ + +
+

+pat +(nnt.) +‘stūpa’
+[pat, ptantse, pat//-, -, ptanma] +ptanma wrotsana ṣe śarirtsana yamīträ ‘may this one make for himself great stūpas full of relics’ (290a3), käṣṣintse pūdñäktentse patstsa yamaṣäṃ kṣāttre śak pärkāwänta kulantse āyorsa poyśintse patne ‘who over the stūpa of the teacher, the Buddha, raises an umbrella, the ten benefits [arise] through the gift of a bell to the Buddha's stūpa’ (K-9b4). + -- ptaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a stūpa’ (418b1). +∎From BHS buddha- ‘Buddha.’ For the phonology of the borrowed -u- compare sakw ‘luck’ from BHS sukha- or pässakw ‘garland’ from Middle Iranian *passuk. +See also pañäkte and pūdñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+patarye +(adj.) +‘paternal’
+[m: patarye, -, -//] [f: //pataryana, -, -] +patäryana waipeccenta ‘paternal possessions’ (128a2), ṣañ patarye saṅkrām star-ś ‘it is to thee thy own paternal monastery’ (TEB-74-2). +∎An adjectival derivative of pācer, q.v. One should note that this derivative is itself almost certainly an inheritance from PIE as one should compare Sanskrit pítrya-, Greek pátrios, Latin patrius, all ‘paternal,’ and Old Irish aithre (f.) (< pre-Celtic *patriā-) ‘father's family’ (MA:195). +

+ + +
+

+patāk* +(n.) +‘division of a verse’
+[-, -, patāk//-, -, patākänta] +(286a4, 508a2). + -- patākäṣṣe* (183b3). +∎From BHS padaka-. +

+ + +
+

+patäl* +(n.) +‘hell’
+[//patälwa, -, -] +/// [mä]ntak patälwa snai ṣaṃṣäl snai yarmo ‘even so [are] hells without number and without measurement’ (45a7). +∎From BHS pātāla-. +See also perhaps pattāl. +

+ + +
+

+patko +(n.) +‘± separation’
+[patko, -, -//] +uppāläṣṣana witsakaṃmpa kärkoṣ śātrempa mā śwālle k_use śuwaṃ patko mäsketär ‘with lotus roots or with sprouted grain [it is] not to be eaten; whoever [does] eat [it]; [it is] separation [for him]’ (ST-a4/5). +∎A nomen actionis from pätk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pattaṅk ~ pattangä +(n.) +‘Caesalpina sappan Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pattaṅk ~ pattangä, -, -//] +(498a5, P-2a4). +∎From BHS pattaṅga-. +

+ + +
+

+pattāl* +(n.) +‘hell’ (?)
+[-, -, pattāl//] +/// ste ñikaṃñce pattāltsa po tsetsuwu [] (430b1). +∎Is this a variant of patäl from BHS pātāla-? +See also patäl. +

+ + +
+

+patti* +(n.) +‘± honor’ (?)
+[//-, -, pattiṃ] +pyāpyaisa pattiṃ w_ināṣṣäṃñesa (G-Qa1.2). +‣Is this a variant of the following entry? +

+ + +
+

+pattit* +(n.) +‘± honor’ (?)
+[-, -, pattit//] +k_use pūdñäktentse pät śārirntācce patti[t yamäṣäṃ] ‘whoever does honor to the relic-possessing stūpa of the Buddha’ (257b2), ///treṃ w_ināṣñe pattitstsa pitwāt /// (430.1), /// ṣar pattit [t]rukālle kariśkenta wärpanamane tākaṃ (558b1). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+patrāk-yok +(adj.?) +‘± like an alms-bowl’ (?)
+/// mäkte patrāk-yok yāmw ā/// (114b3). +∎If correctly identified, a compound of patrāk ‘alms-bowl’ (from BHS pātraka-, cf. pātro) + -yok ‘like.’ +

+ + +
+

+padakaikāvali +(n.) +a rhetorical device?
+(346b1). +∎From BHS padaka- ‘word, sentence’ + ekāvalī- ‘row of sentences in which the subject of one is related somehow to the predicate of the previous one’ (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+padākäṣṣe +See patāk. +

+ + +
+

+padārth* +(n.) +‘± subject, category, principle’
+[-, -, padārth//] +(191b1). +∎From BHS padārtha-. +

+ + +
+

+padum +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘lotus’ [Nelumbium speciosum Willd. = Nelumbo nucifera Gaertn.]
+[padum, -, padum//] +ñ[ä]kcy[e] padūmne ywārcka kes[ārne ca]kkarwisa mittarwisa tsetskäñoṣ tañ ālīn[e] ‘his [two] palms marked with the cakra-signs and mitra-signs as the [two] filaments in the middle of the divine lotus’ (73b1). +∎From BHS paduma-. +See also padmak. +

+ + +
+

+padmak +(n.) +‘lotus’ [Nelumbium speciosum Willd. = Nelumbo nucifera Gaertn.] (a medical ingredient)
+[padmak, -, -//] +(W-8a5, W-13a4). +∎From BHS padmaka-. +See also padum and uppāl. +

+ + +
+

+Padmakesar +(n.) +‘Padmakeśara’ (PN)
+[Padmakesar, -, -//] +(21b3). +

+ + +
+

+Padmottare* +(n.) +‘Padmottara’ (PN of a buddha)
+[-, -, Padmottareṃ//] +(345b4). +

+ + +
+

+panāk* +(n.) +a liquid of some sort?
+[-, -, panāk//] +se ṣälype tätik ñemä panāksa yokälle (P-3a7). +

+ + +
+

+panit +(n.) +‘molasses’
+[panit, panitäntse, panit//] +misampa mit panit wirot ‘honey or molasses with meat [is] forbidden’ (ST-a3/4). + -- panitäṣṣe ‘prtng to molasses’ (FS-b1). +∎From BHS phāṇita-. +

+ + +
+

+pantañ +See pānto. +

+ + +
+

+pantuk +‘?’
+///tri larepi cwi pantuk wrākār ñke (H-149.69b4 [Thomas, 1979:57]). +

+ + +
+

+pannāk* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘sandal, shoe’
+[-, -, pannāk/-, -, pannākäñc/pannākänta, -, -] +///ṣṣana pannākänta wi [pannākänta = BHS -paduka-, lege: -pāsuka-] (541b6), pannāk = BHS upānaham (U-3a1). +∎From BHS upānaha(ka)-. +

+ + +
+

+papāṣṣorñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(moral) behavior’
+[papāṣṣorñe, -, papāṣṣorñe//-, -, papāṣṣorñenta] +papāṣṣorñentane = BHS śīleṣu (31a4), āstreṃ yarposa su paṣṣītär papāṣṣorñe ‘by pure religious merit, may he practice moral behavior’ (290a5), p’p’švrnyy = papāṣṣorñe (Gabain/ Winter:13). + -- papāṣṣorñeṣṣe ‘prtng to moral behavior’ (15b2= 17b4); +
+papāṣṣorñetstse* ‘possessing moral behavior’: āklyi yāmoṣ papāṣṣorñecci = BHS abhyavacīrṇa brahmacarya (542b2). +∎A derivative of papāṣṣu, the preterite participle of pāsk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+payasya +(n.) +‘coagulated milk curds’ [M-W] or ‘levantine chicken’ [Filliozat] (?) (a medical ingredient).
+[payasya, -, -//] +(W-25a4). +∎From BHS payasyā-. +

+ + +
+

+payä +(n.) +‘milk’ or ‘a species of Andropogon’ (?) (a medical ingredient)
+[payä, -, -//] +(W-3b3). +∎If correctly identified in meaning, from BHS payas-. It is to be noted, however, that Filliozat does not offer any semantic identification. +

+ + +
+

+payro(-) +‘?’
+payro--- mäskeṃtär (W-3a6/b1). +

+ + +
+

+paracittajñāṃ* +(n.) +‘knowledge of another's thoughts’
+[-, -, paracittajñāṃ//] +(575a1). +∎From BHS paracittajñāna-. +

+ + +
+

+paranirmitavaśavarti +(n.) +a class of buddhist deities
+(599b4). +∎From BHS paranirmitavaśavartin-. +See also parinirmitava-śawarti. +

+ + +
+

+paramañiyate* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, paramañiyateṃts, -] +kare sporttotär yogācārentse paramañiya[teṃ]s täräm wikäṣñeṣṣai lalyīntse (591b2). +∎Related in some fashion to BHS paramaṇi ‘excellent jewel’? +

+ + +
+

+paramānu +(nnt.) +‘atom’
+[paramānu, -, paramānu//paramānunta, -, -] +ṣe paramānu lykaśke rup ste ‘one atom is [of] small form’ (192b4). +∎From BHS paramāṇu-. +

+ + +
+

+paramārth +(n.) +‘highest truth, spiritual knowledge’
+[paramārth, -, paramārth//] +paramārthä pelaikne ... tarnene aṣāṃ aitsi ‘the law [is] the highest goal to be given seat on the crown of the head’ (S-4a3/4). + -- parāmārthṣṣe (199b4). +∎From BHS paramārtha-. +

+ + +
+

+paramārthadarśī +(n.) +‘± one who sees the highest truth’
+[paramārthadarśi, -, -//] +(AMB-a1). +∎From BHS *paramārtha-darśin- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+paramit +See pāramit. +

+ + +
+

+parāk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be glad, be refreshed, rejoice’; K ‘gladden, exhilarate, refresh’
+G Ps. I /porok-/ [AImpf. // -, porośicer, poroś(i)yeṃ]; Ko. V /pārākā-/ [Inf. parākatsi]; +
+K Ps. IX /pārākäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. parākäṣṣeñca; MPPart. parākäskemane] +///r ñiś tsuwai porośicer ñ ̇/// (370b5), katkauñaisa ka kektseñi porośyeṃ ceṃts ‘out of joy all bodies rejoiced in them’ (404a4); parākatsi = BHS vṛddhim (H-149.314b5 [K. T. Schmidt, 1984:152]); parākäṣṣeñca = BHS hlādī (197b5), maithunaṃ saṃyogsutärsa warñai ṣamāññe parā[kä]ṣṣeñcaṃ sutarṣṣeṃ spārttalyñentane sporttolle (549b3), indri[nta pa]rākäskema[n]e ‘causing the senses to rejoice’ (176a7). + -- parākalñe ‘refreshment’: ceṃts parākalñe sparśāhārsa ‘the refreshment of them by touch-food [i.e. food taken by ingestion]’ (177b2). +∎Etymology unknown. Extremely unlikely is VW's suggestion (635) that we have the reflexes of a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source of Iranian hvar- (cf. hvar- ‘sun’). +

+ + +
+

+paricchet +(n.) +‘± exact distinction’
+[paricchet, -, -//] +(404a2). +∎From BHS pariccheda-. +

+ + +
+

+parinermita +(adj.?) +‘set off, delimited’ (?)
+[] tumeṃn tsa parinermita s ̇/// (525b5). +∎From BHS parinirmita-. +

+ + +
+

+parinirmitavaśawarti* +(n.) +a class of buddhist gods
+[-, -, panirmitavaśawarti//] +(K-2a1). +∎From BHS parinirmitavaśavartin-. +See also paranirmitavaśavarti. +

+ + +
+

+paripiṇḍitālambane +‘?’
+/// [pa]ripiṇḍitālambane ceṃts dharmopavi[cār] /// (173b3). +∎Obviously a borrowing from BHS but not in M-W or Edgerton. +

+ + +
+

+paribhog* +(n.) +‘enjoyment, use’
+[-, -, paribhog//] +ṣaḍvarginta patraiṃ māka kraupiyenträ [] päst taṣīyeṃträ mā paribhog yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvargikas gathered for themselves many alms-bowls; they put away [everything] and made no use [of them]’ (337b4). +∎From BHS paribhoga-. +

+ + +
+

+parivelak +(n.) +‘Cyperus rotundus Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[parivelak, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS paripela(ka)-. +

+ + +
+

+pariṣkār* +(n.) +‘equipment, utensils, personal belongings’
+[//pariṣkār(ä)nta, -, -] +(374f). +∎From BHS pariṣkāra-. +

+ + +
+

+parihāni +(n.) +‘decrease, loss, deficiency’
+(177b7). +∎From BHS parihāna-. +

+ + +
+

+parihār +(n.) +‘guardianship, watchful care’
+[parihār, -, -//] +käṣṣī weṣṣäṃ mantanta aknātsaññentse parihār nesäṃ ‘the teacher speaks: never is [there] guardianship of ignorance’ (575b5/6). +∎From BHS parihāra-. +

+ + +
+

+paruwa +(n.[pl.]) +‘feathers’
+[//paruwa, -, paruwa] +sn[ai] parwā lestaimeṃ tsāṅkaṃ ‘without feathers he will rise from the nest’ (282b1), skrenantse paruwa mlutāṣällona ‘a dove's feathers [are] to be plucked’ (W-32b3). +∎TchB paruwa reflects a PTch *pärwā, (as if) from PIE *p(e)rweh_a (nt. plural). The semantically closest cognate is OCS pero ‘feather’ which comes (as if) from PIE *perom (nt.). Both are derivatives of the widespread PIE *per- ‘move (tr./intr.); fly (intr.)’ [: OCS perǫ ‘fly,’ Sanskrit pipárti ‘brings,’ Greek peráō ‘pierce,’ Latin portō ‘bring,’ Gothic faran ‘travel,’ etc. (P:816-7; MA:646)] (Bailey, 1967:198, VW:347). +See also prere and prāri. +

+ + +
+

+parkāsaṃ* +(n.) +‘explanation, illumination’
+[-, -, parkāsaṃ//] +lyuwaṣ parkāsaṃ walo śtwāra kälymintsa ‘and the king sent the explanation in four directions’ (21b2). +∎From BHS prakāśana-. +

+ + +
+

+parki +(n.) +‘something that (a)rises,’ hence ‘advantage’ (?)
+[parki, -, parki (see kaum-parki)//] +isälyänt se ṣṣertwentsā cowai käntwa tärkänaṃ ma cpi nesäṃ pärki [or märki?] su wäṣṣe weṣṣäṃ [o]nolmeṃ ‘at the urging of envy he steals the tongue; he has no advantage [?]; he lies to creatures’ (255b3/4). +‣Otherwise attested only in the compound kaum-parki, q.v. +∎A derivative of pärk-², q.v. +

+ + +
+

+parkait* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, parkait//] +/// parkait [lege: parkain?] yāmtträ atiṣṭhit yamäṣṣälle (336al). +

+ + +
+

+partāktaññe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a camel’
+[m: -, -, partāktaññe//] +kete āñme tākaṃ tweri ruwyenträ partāktaññe pitkesa ṣarne laikanalle ‘whoever has the wish [that] doors might open, [he is] to wash [his] hands with camel spittle’ (M-3b1). +∎This adjective presupposes an underlying noun *partākto ‘camel’ (a semantic identification apparently first made by K. T. Schmidt), the etymology of which is unclear. Isebaert (apud VW, 1989:99) suggests a borrowing from a Middle Iranian *partaxt from an earlier *pari-taxta- ‘qui fait un tour, qui circule’ but the semantic development does not seem compelling. VW himself prefers to see in TchB partākto a borrowing from an unattested TchA *partākt, in PIE terms, a compound of *bhorto- (cf. Greek phórtos ‘ship's freight, cargo’) + *h_aeǵto- the past participle of *h_aeǵ- ‘lead.’ The whole would have been *‘transporter of cargo.’ Against such a derivation in the fact that *h_aeǵto- is not of Proto-Indo-European date. The only Indo-European form that might presuppose *h_aeǵto- is Latin āctus and that is universally taken to be a Latin innovation and there is no evidence of a similar innovation in Tocharian (the past participle of Tocharian āk- is wawāyau). +

+ + +
+

+parna +(a) (adv./postposition); (d) (pre-/postposition) +(a) ‘outside’; (b) [N-meṃ parna = ‘beyond, out from’; (c) N-sa parna = ‘aside from’]; (d) ‘except, absent’
+(a) rīmeṃ tā_u parna mäskīträ ‘he found himself outside of this city’ (48b6), alyek-ypoyṣi brāhmaṇi parna klyenträ ‘foreign brahmans are standing outside’ (81b4); +
+(b) mā=lyāk tesa parna ytārye nesäṃ ksa tne saṃsārmeṃ laṃtsiś ‘aside from this, there is no other way to emerge from the saṃsāra’ (28a3); +
+(c) kercīyeṃnmeṃ parna [lateṃ] ‘they went out from the palace’ (85b2), tā_u ytarimeṃ parna lantsi ‘to go out beyond this road’ (330a3); +
+(d) se ṣamāne yaka yaṣisa lānte kercyenne yaṣ parna tu-yknesa ṣärmameṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk goes at night to the king's palace absent sufficient cause, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyana[mpa o]lyine ṣamäṃ ... parna totte kat[ka]lñesa pāyti ‘[if] any monk sits in a boat by agreement with nuns, except for crossing over [to the other side], pāyti’ (PK-AS-18B-b4/5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]). + -- pärnāññe (a) (adj.) ‘external’; (b) (n.) ‘one outside, heretic’: pärnāññana wäntarwaṃts ‘by external things’ (K-8a6), mā tirthets pärnāññets ‘not by the tīrthas [nor] by the heretics’ (29b4). +∎TchA pärne and B parna reflect PTch *päränā-i from an earlier *pärärā-, exactly matching in stem formation Proto-Germanic *ferera/ō seen in Gothic fairra, Old Norse fjarri, OHG ferro, Old English feor(r). Both Germanic and Tocharian reflect a (late) PIE *perero- ‘beyond, far.’ Tocharian shows dissimilation of the the *r...r sequence (cf. P:810ff. for the widespread *per-). This etymology goes back in nuce to Meillet (in Hoernle, 1916:381). VW (364) would prefer to derive the Tocharian -rn- directly from PIE and compares Gothic fairneis ‘old’ and Lithuanian pérnai ‘last year’ but both the semantics and phonology are against such an assumption. The Baltic and Germanic words appear to be the reflexes of old compounds *per-h₁en-, where *h₁en- is ‘year’ (just as in Sanskrit párut which represents *per + w(e)t-), and are thus semantically quite divergent. In any case an original PIE *-rn- appears to give Toc arian -rr- (as *-ln- gives -ll-), witness the present tense formation of skärrā- ‘scold, threaten’ from earlier *skär-nā-. TchB parra ‘id.’ reflects either the undissimilated version of parna or, much more likely, the assimilation of secondary -rn- to -rr- by the persistence of the some phonetic tendency that assimilated original *-rn- to -rr-. +See also parra. +

+ + +
+

+paryāṃ* +(n.) +‘circuit’
+[-, -, paryāṃ//] +omte leṃ paryāṃ yamasträ tu[ne mä]ske[trä] ‘there he makes a cell and circuit; therein is he found’ (559a2). +∎From BHS paryāṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+paryari* +(n.) +‘wonder, miracle’
+[-, -, paryari//-, partyaritaṃts, paryarinta] +yātalñeṣṣe paryarīsa = BHS ṛddhiprātihāryeṇa (527b2). + -- paryariṣṣe* ‘prtng to a wonder, miracle’ (296a9=297.1a3). +∎From some Prakrit equivalent (*pāḍihārya-, cf. Pali pāṭhāriya- [Isebaert, 1979:176]) of BHS prātihārya-. +

+ + +
+

+parra +(adv.) +‘outside’
+se ṣamāne saṅkantse pelaiykneṣṣe wäntare wätkau tākaṃ amplākätte parra tseṅketär pāyti ‘[if] a monk being commanded in something of the law, rises without permission and [goes] outside, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3a4/b1 [Couvreur, 1978:48]), te parra tārka yatsi auṣap mā tärkanat ‘let [all] go through; more do not allow!’ (LP-5a4/5). +∎A variant of parna. +

+ + +
+

+parre +(n.) +‘chameleon’ (?)
+[parre, -, -//] +(H-149.19a5). +

+ + +
+

+parlyāṅk(a) +(n.) +‘in a squatting position, cross-legged’
+/// parlyāṅ[k]a /// (583a4), [waś]īrsa prakre no parlyāṅk śpālmeṃ (AMB-a2). +∎From BHS paryanka-. +

+ + +
+

+parwa +See paruwa. +

+ + +
+

+parwe +(a) (adv.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘earlier’; (b) ‘first’
+(a) skwassoñc pärwe tatākarmeṃ skwassoñc postäṃ mäskenträ ‘[those who] were fortunate earlier are fortunate later’ (K-5a5); +
+(b) parwe kṣuṃtsa ‘in the first [year] of the reign’ (Cp. 32.13 [Pinault 1987:81]. +∎TchA pärwat ‘first’ (with -t after the other ordinal numbers) and B parwe reflect PTch *pärwe ‘earlier, first’ from PIE *pṛh_xwo- [: Sanskrit pūrva-, Avestan paurva-, OCS prъvъ, Albanian parë, all ‘first’ and all from *pṛh_xwo-, and Old English forwost/forwest with an extension much like we see in TchA (P:815; MA:399)] (Meillet, 1911-12:285, VW:366). TchB has innovated in assigning the meaning ‘first’ normally to the derivative pärweṣṣe. Only in the example give above is parwe found with its older meaning of ‘first.’ +See also pärweṣṣe, pärwetstse, and yparwe. +

+ + +
+

+parṣki* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, parṣki//] +/// cpi mameñat parṣki lkāskeṃ pärnāmeṃ ka (282b7). +∎One might suspect a relationship to pärsk- ‘fear’ (i.e. *‘fearsomeness’?). +

+ + +
+

+parso* +(n.) +‘letter’
+[-, -, parso//-, -, pärsonta ~ pärsanta] +k_use parso watkäṣṣäṃ pai[katsi] ‘whoever orders a letter to be written’ (65a3), parso lywāwa-ś plāś aṣkār mā lywāsta ‘I sent a letter to thee [but] thou didst not send [an answer] back’ (492a3/4). +‣The alternation in the plural of pärsonta and pärsanta is like that of tränkonta ~ tränkanta, the plural of tranko ‘sin,’ q.v. +∎TchA pärs and B parso reflect a PTch *pärso, presumably a borrowing from Middle Iranian *parsa- ‘send’ (cf. the Iranian loanword in Armenian parsem ‘send out’) rather than with VW (1962b:343-6, 1976:365) a derivative of pärs- ‘sprinkle,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pala +See pale. +

+ + +
+

+palāśäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the Butea frondosa Koen. ex Roxb.’ [= Butea monosperma (Lam.) Kuntze]
+[m: -, -, palāśäṣṣe//] +palāśäṣṣe piltasa = BHS palāśapatreṇa (308b5). +∎From BHS palāśa-. +

+ + +
+

+palāṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Pavonia odorata Willd.’ (or Aegle marmelos Corr.)
+[f: palāṣṣa, -, -//] +(500a8). +‣For a discussion of the semantic possibilities, see s.v. enmetre. +∎An adjective derived from an unattested *pāla, itself borrowed from BHS bālā-. For the identification, see Maue, 1990. +

+ + +
+

+pali* +(n.) +‘± cord’
+[-, -, pali//] +(542a4; see discussion of this passage and its corrections, in the latter of which we find palīsa, s.v. oppīloṃ). +∎If the meaning is correct, we may have a putative PIE *piluh₁en (nt.), a derivative of a word for ‘hair’ (more s.v. oppīloṃ). Hilmarsson (1991:140-143) comes to very different conclusions for this passage and the meanings of the words therein. He takes pali to mean ‘± cover’ and to be related to PIE *pel- ‘fold.’ More s.v. oppīloṃ. +

+ + +
+

+pale* +(n.) +the designation of some household official or servant (so Sieg and Siegling, 1953:322)?
+[-, -, - (voc. pala)//] +tumeṃ Purohite p[r]e[kṣa]n-ne [p]o[ks]e-[ñ] pala ente nai ñake mäñc[uṣke] /// ‘then P. asks him: tell me, pala, if now the prince ...’ (520b8). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+palauna +(n.[pl.]) +‘praise’
+[//palauna, -, palauna] +snai keś aksaścer wnolments āyorntse palauna ‘you announce to numberless beings the praise of giving’ (23b5), pale_un[a] (248b1). + -- palaunaṣṣe* ‘prtng to praise’ (PK-NS-414a4 [Couvreur, 1966: 170]). +∎TchA paloṃ and B palauna suggest a PTch *peleunā, a nomen actionis from päl-, q.v. In TchB *peleunā has been rebuilt to pāleunā on the basis of the subjunctive stem pālā- (itself of course *pelā- historically). +

+ + +
+

+palte +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[palte, -, -//] +(499b4). +

+ + +
+

+palsko +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘mind, spirit; thought’
+[palsko, pälskontse, palsko//pälskonta, pälskontaṃts, pälskonta] +pkrāsta sklok ñi tsäṅkoṣ palsko[ne] ‘cut off the doubt [that has] arisen in my spirit!’ (2b5), pūwar salpäṃ palskone pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt ‘fire glows in [his] spirit; his whole body burns like a firebrand’ (8a5), pälskontse = BHS darśanasya (27b6), palsko salpäṃ ekaṣṣe = Pali cakkhuviññā ṇaṃ ādittaṃ (108b10), śle pälsko pälycä-pälyc ra weru ramt ‘with a thought as fleeting as a bubble’ (295a6), wa[ṣa]mñ[eṣṣ]epi pälsko[nts]e = BHS vayasyacittasya (307a6), [pa]lskone = BHS manasi (527a3), palsko namṣäṃ = BHS antarnāmayati (537a4), [wā]ltsoy pälsko = BHS matheta cittam (H-149-ADD.85b5 [Thomas, 1974:87] = U-22). + -- astre-pälsko ‘with pure mind’ [= BHS śubhacittaḥ (12b8)]; +
+kakraupau-palsko ‘with concentrated attention’ [= BHS samāhitaḥ (29a3)]; +
+pälskotstse ‘± (those who are) spiritual’ [= BHS vijñāna- (157a4)], akraupatte pälskoci = BHS asamāhitā (537a5); +
+palskoṣṣe ‘prtng to thought, mind, or spirit; spiritual’: pälskoṣṣe palskone = BHS manovijñāna (177b5); +
+palskossu ‘± thoughtful’: palskossu śaumo yāmi speltke po āñmntsa ‘may the thoughtful man strive with all his soul’ (K-8a4); +
+palsko-ṣärpalñe ‘mind-reading’ (108b7); +
+palsko-ṣärpalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to mind-reading’ (108b4). +∎TchA pältsäk and B palsko reflect PTch *pälsko, nomen actionis to pälsk-, q.v. +See also ompalsko. +

+ + +
+

+palyiye-yok* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: //paliye-yokäṃ -, -] +kwri āñme tākaṃ-ne śāmña kwrāṣe weñi ... maṇḍālne palyiye-yokn=ewenta taṣalona (M-3b5/6). +

+ + +
+

+Pawaśke +(n.) +‘Pawaśke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Pawaśke, -, -//] +(491a-III-1). +

+ + +
+

+paṣkārro* +(n.) +an oil-bearing fruit? (‘linseed’?)
+[-, -, paṣkārro//] +[wsāre nek]cy[e]ne cwi miye paṣkarro po swāsa cew ostne ‘they gave him at night miye and paṣkārro’ (42b7). + -- paṣkarroṣṣe: paṣkarroṣṣe ṣalywe (Otani-1.5 [Sieg, Siegling, 1949:63]). +

+ + +
+

+paścimike* +(n.) +‘± low, vulgar person’ (?)
+[//-, -, paścimikeṃ] +(598a4, 598a5). +∎If a derivative of BHS paścima- ‘low, mean, vulgar.’ +

+ + +
+

+Paśyavārg* +(n.) +‘Paśyavarga’ (chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Paśyavārg//] +(S-6b1). +

+ + +
+

+passoñ* +(n.[pl.]) +‘muscles’
+[//-, -, passoṃ] +mant astāṣṣi meski tne ṣñor-passontsa śeśśamoṣ ‘thus [are] bound the joints of bone by sinews and muscles’ (5b1/2). +∎The closest relative of passoñ (singular *pāssi?) is Tocharian *pusäk ‘muscle, tendon’ (plural puskāñ, acc. puskās). The A form reflects a putative PIE *pesu-keh_a- where the vowel of the initial syllable (PTch *-ä-) has been rounded by the following -u- and the preceding p- and the original *-u- subsequently becoming -ä- regularly. In TchB we see a vṛddhied derivative, *pōsu-h₁n-, conflated it would seem with *pōsweh_a- (to account for the geminate -s-). Outside of Tocharian we have relatives in Germanic, e.g. OHG faso, fasa ‘fibre, fringe, seam,’ Old English fäs ‘fringe,’ etc. (P:823). Cf. VW:347, with differing details. +See also pāss-. +

+ + +
+

+patsa*¹ +(n.) +‘± bottom’
+[-, -, patsa//] +snai-ptsa kätkre ra tparṣkemeṃ tparṣke ‘the bottomless deep [is] like the shallowest shallow [for thee]’ (Pe-2b4). +∎TchA päts and B patsa reflect PTch *pätsā, possibly from PIE *pédeh_a, a collective corresponding to the more usual *pédom ‘bottom of the foot, footprint’ seen in Greek pédon ‘bottom, bottom of the foot,’ Armenian het ‘footprint,’ Sanskrit padá- ‘step,’ Avestan paδa- ‘trace, track,’ Umbrian peřum ‘bottom,’ Old Norse fet ‘step’ (P:791-792; MA:595). +See also paiyye. +

+ + +
+

+patsa*² +(nm.) +‘(plant) stigma, pollen’
+[//ptsāñ, -, patsaṃ] +kurkamäṣṣi ptsāñä ‘saffron stigmas’ (P-2a3), malkwer patsaṃ uppāläṣṣana witskaṃmpa kärkoṣ śātrempa mā śwālle ‘[one is] not to eat milk, pollen, with lotus roots, or with sprouted grain’ (ST-a4). +∎Etymology unclear. Perhaps a derivative (*petyeh_a-) of *pet- ‘extend; fly.’ +See Cf. pittsau. +

+ + +
+

+patstsāṅk* +(n.) +‘window’
+[-, -, patstsāṅk//] +śale amokäcci ṣameṃ Śimprayentse patsāṅkäś skakanma laṃsseṃträ ‘likewise artisans are here [lit: sit]; they are working [on] the balconies to Ś.'s window’ (TEB- 74-3). + -- patstsāṅkäṣṣe* ‘prtng to a window’: patstsāṅkäṣṣai swāñcaine lkālle ‘[it is] to be seen in the ray from the window’ (326b5). +∎TchA pātsaṅk and B patstāṅk reflect PTch *pātstsāṅk that is probably with Isebaert (1979) from a Middle Persian *patihāng (< *pati-hānaka- < *pati-frānaka-; cf. the Armenian borrowing from the same Middle Iranian source, patuhan ‘window’). Much less likely is VW's suggestion (1966a:440-1, 1976:354-5) that we have here the inherited reflexes of a PIE *b^heh_ati-h₁ōnḱ- ‘ce que prend, saisit la lumière.’ +

+ + +
+

+pāṃce +the designation of some country?
+/// yneśi yene pāṃce ypoyne wī käṣṣī[nta] /// (428b7). +

+ + +
+

+pāṃsukūl* +(n.) +‘clothing of rags’
+[-, -, pāṃsukūl//] +pāṃsukūl-wastsi ‘clothes of rags’ (19a8). +∎From BHS pāṃsukūla-. +

+ + +
+

+pāṃsukulike* +(adj.) +‘wearing rags’
+[m: //-, -, pāṃsukulikeṃ] +(560a4). +∎From BHS pāṃsukūlika-. +

+ + +
+

+pākaśāsanäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Indra’
+[m: -, -, pākaśāsanäṣṣe//] +[pāka]śāsanäṣṣe wimāṃ sākäṣṣeñcaṃ ‘surpassing Indra's palace’ (361a5). +∎An adjective presupposing an underlying noun *pākaśāsaṃ ‘Indra’ from BHS pākaśāsana-, an epithet of Indra (lit: ‘instructor of the ignorant’). +

+ + +
+

+pāke +(nnt.) +‘part, portion, share’ [pāke yām- (+ acc.) ‘participate in, take part in’]
+[pāke, pakentse, pāke/pākeñc, -, -/pakenta, -, pakenta] +Śrāvastine pāk=auntsante tu yāmtsi ‘in Ś. they began to participate in it’ (16b3), kektseñe kauc pāke ‘the upper part [of] the body’ (73a6), śtwara pakenta = BHS caturbhāga (148a2), preściyantso täryāntso pāke yamalyñe nesäṃ = BHS kālatrayavibhāgo sti (251b5), ñu ñu pakenta tsarästär ‘it is to be separated [into] portions, nine by nine’ (591a3), kuñcītäṣṣe ṣalype ṣeme pāke malkwersa päkṣalle ‘sesame oil [is] to be cooked with an equal portion of milk’ (W-34a4). + -- pakeṣṣe ‘prtng to part or portion’ (151b1); +
+pakeññe ‘± id.’: (325b4). +∎TchA pāk and B pāke reflect PTch *pāke, probably a borrowing from Middle Iranian, cf. Avestan bāga- ‘part, lot’ (VW, 1941:87, 1976:636). In theory it could be an inherited cognate of the Iranian (cf. also Sanskrit bhāgá- ‘portion, part, lot’) but the Indo-Iranian words presuppose a thematic noun and if a PIE *b^heh_ago- had been inherited directly by Tocharian, we would expect a nominative plural *pāki rather than pakenta with the -nta so characteristic of loanwords (P:107; MA:161, 211). +

+ + +
+

+pākri +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘clear, obvious’ (pākri nes- ~ mäsk- ‘be apparent, clear, obvious; appear’)
+[a]k[alṣä]lyi ṅke pākri tāk[aṃ] ‘[if] then the pupils should appear’ (27b1), /// pākri tākāre-ñ ñäkcyana ramt ‘they appeared to me as if divine’ (91b1), aiśamñeṣṣa läktsauña pakri tako[y-ñ] ‘may the light of wisdom be clear to me!’ (241b6), [in Manichean script] p’gryy t’gvvy [= pākri tākoy] (Winter/Gabain:13). + -- pākri-nesalyñe ‘obviousness’: [lä]klen-taṃts pākri-ne[sa]lyñe ‘the obviousness of sufferings’ (159b5); +
+pākri-yām- ‘make obvious, make public, proclaim’: se pañäktentse raddhi [] ñake nai yes pākr[i] pyāmtsat ‘this [is] the Buddha's wonder; now proclaim it!’ (H-149-ADD.134b3 [Thomas, 1979:40]), tek yäknesa śpālmeṃ ñiś yamim pākri oktatsai klyomñai ytāri ‘by this excellent way may I publicize the noble, eightfold way!’ (S-4a4/5); +
+pākri-yāmor ‘publication, proclamation’: pākri-yāmorsa wlāwalñesa tumeṃ ṣpä eṃṣketse witskai wikṣälñe tuntse weskau ‘through publication and control thereof [scil. of the sin], I speak of its remission, even to the root’ (K-3b2); +
+pakriṣṣe* ‘± obvious, manifest’ (?): pakriṣṣai lāṃtsa (Otani 3.1). +∎TchA pākär ‘id.’ and B pākri reflect PTch *pākre and pākri respectively (cf. B leki and leke). Possibly in both cases we have old accusative singular nouns used adverbially. For pākri one might also think of a dative or locative singular in *-oi or *-ōi. For further discussion, see pākre. +See also pakartse and apākärtse. +

+ + +
+

+pākre +(adv.) +‘± in the open’ (?)
+oṣle pākre klainämpa kca treṅsate ‘oṣle and pākre he loads himself down with some woman or other’ (69a2). +‣Not as usually given does this word mean ‘in the morning’ or the like. Hilmarsson (1991:121-123) is surely correct in assuming something like ‘in the open.’ One should note the related words apākärtse ‘manifest, apparent,’ apākśai ‘with genitals exposed,’ and pākri ‘clear, manifest.’ +∎Etymology unclear in certain respects. If, with VW (1947 [Revue des Etudes Indo-Européenes a4:294-5],a 1976:350) and others we take Vedic pajrá- to mean ‘± brilliant,’ then we would have a phonologically, morphologically, and semantically very nearly perfect equation with TchB pākre (< PIE *paǵró-; cf. also A pākär ‘obviously’ < PTch *pākre). If, however, with M-W and most others, we take pajrá- to be ‘firm, solid, strong’ (and related to Greek pēgnumi ‘stick, fix in; make solid, firm;’ cf. also Sanskrit pajraha- ‘± destroying the membrum virile’) and, if we can assume a semantic development ‘firm’ > ‘clear, open,’ then we have the possibility of a different Sanskrit-Tocharian equation (Mayrhofer, 1963:186, Hilmarsson, 1991:121-123). +See also pākri, pakartse, and apākärtse. +

+ + +
+

+pākṣ* +(n.) +‘half a lunar month’
+[-, pakṣantse, pākṣ//] +erkeṃt pākṣne meñe ra ‘as the moon in the second [lit: ‘dark’] half of the lunar month’ (H-149.321b5 [Thomas, 1968b:209]). +∎From BHS pakṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+pācer +(n.) +‘father’
+[pācer, pātri, pātär (voc. pācer)/pacere, -, -/pātärñ ~ pācera, pātärnts ~ paceraṃts, pātäräṃ] +mā s[o]y ket rā mā pācer ‘[there is] not a son to whom [there is] no father’ (139a2), cī saim yāmoṣ ... pātär mātär rīntsāmte pest ‘having taken refuge in thee, we have renounced father and mother’ (273a5), ///[o]rotse-pacere nesteñy antpī ktsaitī eś-lmoṣä /// ‘the grandparents [or grandfathers] are both old and blind’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [K. T. Schmidt, 1987:288]). + -- pātär-mātärṣṣe ‘prtng to father and mother’ (266a2) +∎TchA pācar and B pācer freflect PTch *pācēr from PIE *ph_atēr [: Sanskrit pitár-, Avestan pitar-, Greek patēr, Armenian hayr, Latin pater, Gothic fadar, all ‘father’ (P:829; MA:195)] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927, VW:351). The Tocharian nominative singular reflects *ph_atēr exactly, while the accusative singular pātär is exactly equatable with Latin patrem, as is the accusative plural pātäräṃ with Latin patrēs, (as if) from late PIE *ph_atrṃ and *ph_atrṇs respectively. The nominative plural pātärñ is built by analogy on the accusative plural while the nom/acc. plural pācera is analogically built on the nom. sg. The PIE genitive singular *ph_atrós (cf. Greek patrós) would have given TchB *pātre (cf. occurring tkātre ‘daughter's’) but the -e is replaced, as in all kin-terms except tkātre, by -i possibly originally from the i-stems. +See also patarye. +

+ + +
+

+pāt +(n.) +‘Cissampelos pareira Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pāt, -, -//-, -, pātänta] +(330b1, P-3a2). +∎From BHS pāṭha-. +

+ + +
+

+pātk- +See pätk-. +

+ + +
+

+pātro +(nf.) +‘alms-bowl, begging-bowl’
+[pātro, -, pātrai//-, -, patraiṃ] +śśakauntsa ṣamāneṃtse olyapotsa [sic] pātro eṅka[lya] ‘for seven days at most [is] a begging-bowl to be grasped by a monk’ (337b5), tsoṅkaik pātrai wastsi kamāte Śrāvastine piṃtwat yopsa ‘at dawn he gathered up [his] begging-bowl and clothes and entered Ś. to beg’ (H-149.X.4a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎From BHS pātra-. +

+ + +
+

+pādtärä +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pādtärä, -, -//] +(W-41b3). +

+ + +
+

+pānto +(nm.) +‘support, aid’
+[pānto, -, pāntai ~ pānto (voc. pānto)//pantāñ, -, pantaiṃ] +[pelaikn]e pānto eṅtsi su ṣek preke ‘[it is] always the time to grasp the law and support’ (281b5), pāntai källoym ‘may I achieve help!’ (S-8a5). +∎TchB pānto (A pānto is a borrowing from B) is probably (as if) from a PIE *b^hond^heh_a-n- or *b^hond^heh_a-h₁en- (whether the stem in B is -ān- or -ain- is not clear) and derivative of *b^hend^h- ‘bind’ [: Sanskrit badhnāti/bandhati ‘binds,’ Avestan bandayaiti ‘id.,’ Latin of-fendō ‘strike against; offend,’ Gothic bindan ‘bind,’ and other, mainly nominal cognates, in Greek, Celtic, and Baltic (P:127; MA:64)] (VW, 1965:502, 1976:352, with differing details). The closest morphological analog to the Tocharian word is Lithuanian bandà ‘band of cattle’ (< *b^hond^heh_a-), while the semantic development is to a certain degree paralleled by Sanskrit bándhu- (m.) ‘relation, connection; relative, associate, companion’ or Lithuanian beñdras ‘companion.’ As an alternative, Hilmarsson (1986:223) suggests that we might have an individualizing derivative in (PIE) *-ōn- from a present participle of *peh₂- ‘protect, preserve,’ thus *peh₂-nt-ōn- (cf. pāsk-). +

+ + +
+

+Pāpavārg* +(n.) +‘Pāpavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Pāpavārg//] +(S-6b3). +

+ + +
+

+pāyti +(n.) +‘the pātayanika-sin’
+[pāyti, -, pāyti//pāytinta, -, -] +pāyti pyutkäṣṣäṃ ‘he commits the pātayantika-sin’ (329a4), se ṣamāne ṣañ ṣarsa keṃ rapanaṃ rāpatsi wat watkäṣṣäṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk digs the ground with his own hand or orders [another] to dig,’ pāyti (H-149.X.3a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]). +∎Presumably a borrowing from some Prakrit form of pātayanika-. +

+ + +
+

+pāramit* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘supremacy, mastery’
+[-, -, pāramit//-, -, pāramitänta] +pāramitne āyorṣṣe mā no k_ulā-ñ palsko ‘my spirit did not decline, however, in the mastery of giving’ (78a1). + -- pārāmitṣṣe ‘prtng to supremacy, mastery’ (288a1) +∎From BHS pāramitā-. +

+ + +
+

+pāre +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± dome’ (??)
+[pāre, -, -//] +āśce sonopälya keryiṣe pāre ra matsi mäsketär ‘the head [is] to be smeared; the hair becomes like the palace's pāre’ (W-33b3). +‣Is there some relationship with TchA pāreṃ ‘rock, stone’? +

+ + +
+

+pārivelak +See parivelak. +

+ + +
+

+pārnna +See parna. +

+ + +
+

+pāl- +See päl-. +

+ + +
+

+pāliña +(adj.?) +‘?’
+(W-26a2). +

+ + +
+

+pāli* +(n.) +‘line’
+[-, -, pāli//] +eplyuwai yasarne śatkaroṃ pāline taṣallona ‘swimming in blood the leeches [are] to be placed in a line’ (M-3a4). +∎From BHS pāli-. +

+ + +
+

+pāwe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘powder’
+[pāwe, -, pāwe//] +paścane kātso po kektseñä arkwi pāwe yamaṣṣäṃ ‘the breasts, the stomach, the whole body the powder makes white’ (W-30a5). +∎Presumably with VW (1977) and, more fully, Isebaert (1983) we should see in this TchB word a derivative of PIE *peuh_a- ‘purify’ (< *‘crush, mill, sieve’) [: Sanskrit punāti] ‘purifies,’ pūtá- ‘pure,’ Avestan pūitika- ‘serving to purify,’ Latin pūrus ‘pure,’ OHG fowen ‘sieve, purify grain;’ the earlier meaning is preserved in Old English āfȳran ‘emasculate,’ Lithuanian pjáuju (< *peuh_aye/o-) ‘cut, harvest,’ Latin paviō ‘strike, stamp,’ Greek paíō ‘strike,’ if the latter two belong here (P:827)]. A semantic development of ‘crush, sieve’ > ‘purify’ is also probably to be seen in Gothic hrains ‘pure’ (Isebaert, ibid.). TchB pāwe then would represent a vṛddhied *pōwh_ao- (so VW). +

+ + +
+

+-pāṣṣe* +(n.) +‘behavior’ (only in the compound: śīl-paṣṣe ‘one who behaves morally’)
+[-, -, pāṣṣe//] +śīl-paṣesa ynūcantse sak ‘the good fortune of [one] going with moral behavior’ (A-1a1). +∎A derivative of pāsk-. -Paṣe also exists in TchA where it is presumably a borrowing from B. +

+ + +
+

+pās- +(vi.) +‘± whisper’ (?)
+Ko. V /pāsā-/ [A -, -, pāsaṃ//] +kattāke klautsaine pāsaṃ ‘[if] the house-holder whispers in the ear’ (328b4). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (353) opts for a connection PIE *pes- [: OCS pachati ‘ventilāre, agitāre,’ Russian pachnutь ‘blow,’ Old Norse fǫnn ‘snowbank,’ etc. (P:823-4)] though whether, with VW, TchA päs- ‘pour (out)’ belongs here is doubtful. It would also seem possible that in TchB pās- (since the only attested form is a 3rd. sg. Class V [ablauting?] subj., the root is quite possibly *päs-) we have a reflex of PIE *b^hes- ‘blow’ [: Sanskrit bábhasti ‘blows,’ Greek psúkhō ‘cool off’ (tr.) (originally ‘cool off by blowing’) (MA:72)]. +See also possibly pisäl. +

+ + +
+

+pāsk- +(vt.) +‘guard, protect; practice [moral behavior]’ [papāṣṣorñe pāsk- ‘practice moral behavior’]
+Ps. II /pāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP // paskemttär, -, paskentär; MPImpf. // -, -, paṣṣīyentär; APart. paṣṣeñca; paṣṣalle]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [A // pāskem, -, -; MP -, -, pāṣtär//; AOpt. -, pāṣṣit, -//; MPOpt. paṣṣīmar, -, paṣṣītär// Inf. pāṣtsi ~ pāssi]; Ipv. I /pāṣṣā-/ [MPPl. pāṣṣat]; Pt. Ib /pāṣṣā-/ [MP -, paṣṣātai, -//]; PP /pāpāṣṣu-/ +[ṣä]ñ śaul rīnäskenträ pest paskentr allyek ñyätsemeṃ ‘they renounce their own live[s] and guard another from danger’ (133b3); pāskem [m]añyeṃ ‘we will guard [our] servants’ (574a4), śaultsa auṣap paṣṣīmar śīlaṣṣana sälyaino ‘throughout life may I practice the lines of moral behavior’ (S-3a3), paṣṣīträ = BHS rakṣed (U-23b4); [nak]anma palskalñentaṃts yolaina toṃmeṃ pāṣṣat ‘guard from them the evil reproaches of thoughts!’ (8b5), yaitkor po āñmtsa pāṣṣat ‘keep the commandment with all [your] soul[s]!’ (95a4), pälsko pāṣṣāt = BHS cittam rakṣeta (U-24b5); śaul r=anaiśai paṣṣatai śiläṣṣ[a]na sälyai[no] ‘for [thy whole] life thou hast practiced moral behaviors’ (241a6); anaiśai kwri pa[pāṣ-ṣ]oṣ walke klyentär k[o]kalyi ‘if carefully protected, the wagons stand for a long time’ (5b2). + -- papāṣṣormeṃ; +
+paṣṣalñe ‘protection’ (127a1); +
+paṣṣalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to protection’: paṣṣalñeṣṣe ime +∎TchA pās- and B pāsk- reflect PTch *pāsk- from PIE *peh₂-sḱe/o- [: Latin pāscō ‘feed, lead to pasture; nourish,’ OCS pasti ‘protect, guard’ (< *peh₂sḱe/o-, Hittite pahs- ‘protect’ (cf. P:787; MA:198)] (Petersen, 1933:27, VW:353). Much less likely is Normier's reconstruction (1980:254) *peh₃s- and a relationship only with Hittite pahs-. +See also -pāṣṣe, papāṣṣorñe and apāṣṣätte. +

+ + +
+

+pāss- +(vt.) +‘rip off, tear out [flesh, etc.]’
+Pt. Ib /pāssā-/ [A // -, -, passāre; MP passāmai, -, -] +[kektse]nne ewe passāre-ne śāmane ‘they tore off his inner skin in the body, [while] living’ (235a3), [ñi]ś passāmai ṣañ larenṃ | aswāre ka śauwa-me ‘I flayed my loved ones and let them be killed untenderly’ (H-ADD.149.88b7 [Hilmarsson, 1991:128]). +∎Etymology uncertain. Possibly we have here the reflex of a PTch denominative with prefix, *wä-pāsw-ā- ‘deflesh,’ a derivative of *pāswā- ‘muscle’ (see passoñ). Also possible is VW's suggestion (1962b:343, 1976:353) of a relationship with Greek spáō ‘flay’ where both the Tocharian would reflect PIE *(s)peh_as- + wht common élargissement *-w- and the Greek would reflect *(s)ph_as-. +See also possibly passoñ. +

+ + +
+

+päk-¹ +(vi./vt.) +[Middle] ‘become ready for eating: i.e., cook, boil, ripen’ (intr.); [Act.] ‘make ready for eating: i.e., cook, boil, ripen’ (tr.)
+Ps. VIII /päks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, pakṣäṃ// -, -, pakseṃ; AImpf. // -, -, päkṣiyeṃ; MP -, -, pakṣtär//; MPPart. päksemane; Ger. päkṣalle (päkṣalleṣṣe ‘prtng to cooking’)]; PP /pepäkṣu-/, /päpeku-/ +tsirauwñeṣṣe kauṣn āya ompalskoṣṣe mrestīwe pakṣäṃ ysomo ‘it kills the bone of energy and cooks together the marrow of meditation’ (S-4b1), puwar ramt pa[kṣäṃ] = BHS agnim iva dahati (U-13b7), saṃtkinaṃś [lege: -añc] ka[ṣā]ynta pakseṃ ‘the doctors cook the decoctions’ (324a5), oko pakṣträ ‘the fruit ripens’ (200b3), pakṣtär-ne = BHS vipacyate (K-2b3), [pä]ksemane = BHS pacyamānaḥ (U-22b6), ṣalype malkwersa kālkä päkṣalle ‘the salve [is] to be cooked with milk [to] a paste’ (497b3), päkṣalle = BHS siddha- (Y-2a6), päkṣalleṣṣe nraiṣṣeṃts lakle ‘the cooking [i.e. roasting] suffering of hells’ (150a6); pepakṣu = BHS kvathita- (Y-2a1), pepakṣuwa ‘bubbles given off by a boiling liquid’ [= BHS kvātha-] (Y-2b4); [k_uśa]lamūlnta papekwa (409b3). + -- pepakṣormeṃ: motäṣṣe war tanāṣṣe war śaṣkäs traunta te eṣe pepakṣormeṃ ‘alcohol water and grain water, 16 trau; having boiled it together’ (W-40a5); +
+pkelñe ‘ripening, cooking; digestion; curing; requital, recompense’: antsets pkelñe = BHS skandhaparipāka (182a4), pkel[ñ]e = BHS vipākaṃ (544a3), antsentso pkelñe = BHS indriyāṇāṃ paripākaḥ (PK-NS-53a4 [Pinault, 1988:100]), pilentse pkelñe ‘the curing of the wound’ (PK-NS-53b6). +∎AB päk- reflect PTch *päk- from PIE *pek^w- ‘cook, ripen’ [: Sanskrit pácati, Avestan pačaiti, Latin coquō, Albanian pjek, OCS pekǫ, Lithuanian kepù (with metathesis), etc., all ‘cook’ (P:798; MA:125)] (Meillet, 1911:145, VW:355). +

+ + +
+

+päk-² +(vt.) +‘intend; want’ [always with an infinitive object]
+Ps. Xa /päknāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, päknāstär, -// -, -, päknāskentär]; Ko. V /päknā-/ [MP -, -, päknātär// -, -, päknāntär]; Pt. Ia /päkā-/ [MP -, -, pkāte//] +saim-wasta kā twe ñäś ñke ārtsi päknāstar ‘O refuge, why dost thou intend to forsake me?’ (45a1); kwri no sanaṃ päknāträ ostmeṃ lyutsi ‘if one wants to drive an enemy from the house’ (M-3a8), yolo añmantse kektseñ-reki-palskosa yamtsi päknānträ ‘[if] they intend to evil to me in body, word, or spirit’ (K-11a6); krent yamor mā yāmoṣäṃ ce[n n]o śäccätsī pkate ‘he did not intend to let pass those [who had] not done a good deed’ (133a4). + -- päknālñe ‘± intention’: /// [wä]ntarwane päknāñe [sic] (195a2). +∎AB päk- reflect PTch *päk- from PIE *(s)peḱ- ‘see, look at’ [: Sanskrit spáśati/páśyati ‘sees,’ Avestan spasyeiti ‘spies on,’ Greek sképtomai (with metathesis) ‘look about carefully, spy,’ skopéō ‘examine, inspect; consider,’ Latin speciō ‘see,’ OHG spehōn ‘spy’ (P:984; MA:505)] (VW, 1941:89, 1976:355). The semantic shift must have been something on the order *‘look at’ > *‘inspect’ > *‘consider’ > ‘consider [doing].’ +See also päknāmo, päkw-, spaktāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+päknāmo +(adj.) +‘± intending’
+[m: päknāmo, -, -//] +(H-147.37a4 [K]). +∎A derivative, based in the subjunctive stem, of päk-², q.v. TchA päknāmo ‘id.’ is a borrowing from B. +

+ + +
+

+päkw- +(vt.) +‘expect, trust’
+Ps. I /päkw-/ [MP -, -, pak(_u)tär// -, -, pkwantär; Ger. pkwalle]; Ko. I (= Ps.) +triketär ramt aknātsa onwaññe śaul paktär ‘the fool is confused and expects life [to be] immortal’ (31b3), ne_uske aiskeṃ ālyeṅkäts skwäsont pkwänträr [sic] ṣäñ-ā[ñmä] ‘they give oppression to others [while] they expect [to be] fortunate themselves’ (255a1), yolo pkwalle yolaiṃmeṃ ṣek ‘evil [is] always to be expected from evil’ (23b8). + -- päkwalñe ‘confidence, trust, expectation’: śaulne pkwälñe ritsi [pre]ke ‘[it is] the time to renounce trust in life’ (281al), ñake ciśiś [sic] päkwalñe a weskem ‘we speak to thee in trust’ (TEB-74-5). +∎TchA puk- and B päkw- reflect PTch *päkw-, (as if) from PIE *(s)peḱw- (with the verbal élargissement *-w- so commonly seen in Tocharian), a derivative of *(s)peḱ-, the ancestor of päk-², q.v. For the semantic development we should compare Larin exspectāre (VW:395). +See also empakwatte, ompakwättñe, and päk-². +

+ + +
+

+päccauk +See tuk-. +

+ + +
+

+pät- +(vt.) +‘± dam, check’ (?)
+Ko. I (?) /pät-/ [Inf. patätsi] +saṃsarṣepi cke[n]t[s]e [tn]e[k maiy]y[a] yataṃ patätsi ‘he will be able to dam the power of the saṃsāra-river’ (554a3). +‣The orthographic practices of this MS would allow <patätsi> to represent /pātätsi/ as well. +∎Etymology unclear. If the meaning is substantially correct, one might suppose an etymological connection with either PIE *b^hed^h- ‘bend, press’ [: Skt bādhate ‘presses, forces, drives away, removes,’ Albanian bindem ‘bend myself’ (P:114)] or *ped- ‘grasp, contain’ [: OHG fazzōn ‘grasp, put into a container,’ Old English fat ‘container,’ Lithuanian pė́das ‘grain-basket’ (P:790)]. +See also perhaps pätk-. +

+ + +
+

+pätk- +(vi.) +‘be disassociated, separated [from external influences]’
+Ko. V /pātkā-/ [AOpt. -, -, pātkoy//] + -- papātkarmeṃ: /// papātkarmeṃ yaṃ = BHS viśreṇayitvā carati (TX-4-b3 [Thomas, 1974:91]). +∎Etymology dubious. VW suggests (354) a connection with PIE *pet- ‘fly, fall, throw’ but the semantics are not compelling. No better is Duchesne-Guillemin's suggestion (1941:150) of a connection with PIE *pet- ‘extend (the arm).’ Semantically better it would seem would be a connection with PIE *b^hed^h- ‘bend, press away’ [: Sanskrit bādhate ‘presses, forces, drives away, removes,’ and pät-]. In any case, as often, the Tocharian verb shows a generalization throughout the paradigm of the originally inchoative suffix *-sḱe/o-. +See also patko, pätkārñe, and perhaps pät-. +

+ + +
+

+pätkārñe* +(n.) +‘± disassociation’
+[-, -, pätkārñe//] +māka cmelane su trä^.ārñe pätkārñeścä yāmor yamasträ ‘in many lives the deed will be done out of trä ̇ārñe and disassociation’ (42b3). +∎A derivative of pätk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pätt- +(vi.) +‘± climb, clamber’
+Ps. II/III [MPPart. pättemane] +lkātär somp pättemane Sume[rne] ‘she is to be seen climbing on Sumeru’ (PK-13.9b3 [Krause, 1952:159]). + -- puttuwermeṃ: oline ette puttuwermeṃ ‘having climbed down into the boat’ (PK-13.9b1 [Krause, 1952:159]). +∎Etymology unknown. The pre-Tocharian form must have been *pätw- (cf. the derivative petwe ‘bank [of a river]’) but further cognates are unknown. +See also petwe. +

+ + +
+

+pänn- +(vi./vt.) +‘stretch (intr. and tr.), reach for’
+Ps. II /päññ^'ä/_e- ~ peññ^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, paññäṃ//; MP -, -, peññatär//]; Ko. V /pānnā- ~ pännā-/ [A -, -, pānnaṃ//; AOpt. // -, -, pannoṃ; Inf. pannatsi; Ger. pännālle]; Pt. Ia /päññā- ~ pännā-/ [A -, -, piñña//; MP -, -, pännāte//]; PP /pänno-/ +päññän-m=ecce pälskontā ‘he stretches forth the thoughts to them’ (253b2), te-maṃt mā ṣañ añmä kauc peññaträ ‘thus he does not himself stretch high’ (558b3/4); naitwe kärkkāllene släppoṣ kuttipaśaṃ wat parra pānnaṃ ‘[if] he reaches for the plough-share [?] sunk in the mud or for the body of the plough [?]’ (331a1), tā ka ṣp śāmñai kektseñtsa nraiṣṣi sl[e]mi pannoṃ ñiś eṃṣky āwiśne ‘and by this human body the flames of hell may stretch toward me in Avīci!’ (TEB-64-06); [ymaimeṃ ci]mpyāsta yolyyai onolmeṃ apāyntameṃ kauc panatsi [sic] ‘thou wert able to pull creatures up from the evil way and evil rebirths’ (238a1); [pyā]pyai ... piñña saukeṃ walāneṃ (429a5), po warkṣältsa wäntalyi ite pännāte karṣṣa ‘with all [his] strength he stretched to the full the bow and shot’ (109b6); mäkte ña[re] tne pännowo kos sarkimpa w[o]p[o]trä ‘as the stretched thread as often is woven with the woof’ (3b5). +∎TchA pänw- and B pänn- reflect PTch *pänw- from PIE *(s)pen- ‘pull, spin’ [: Greek pénomai ‘toil, work’ (intr.), ‘get ready, work at’ (tr.), Armenian hanum/henum ‘weave, bring near,’ Lithuanian pinù ‘plait, braid,’ Old English spinnan ‘spin,’ spannan ‘span’ (P:988; MA:571-572)] (VW, 1941:90, 1976:360, with differing details). Morphologically the Tocharian forms most closely match the Germanic ones: Germanic spinnan < *spenwe/o- and spannan < *sponwe/o- while PTch *pänw-yä/e- < *pṇw-ye/o- and peññ- < *ponw-ye/o-. The TchB subjunctive reflects an o-grade present while the preterite shows a mixture of *p(e)nw-ā- and *p(e)nw-yā-). +See also pännauca. +

+ + +
+

+pännauca +(n.) +‘± stretcher’
+[pännauca, -, -//] +pännoca (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Couvreur, 1954c:82]). +∎A nomen agentis derived from the subjunctive stem of pänn-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+päp* ~ pup* +(adj.) +‘foul, evil-smelling’
+[m: -, -, pap (see compound)// pupañ, -, pupaṃ ~ päpaṃ] [f: -, -, päpiyai//] +pupaṃ laksäṃ askwacentse ākesa = BHS pūtimatsyāṃ kuśāgreṇa (308b3), askwaś[i] rano pupaṃñ warskeṃ = BHS kuśāpi pūtikā wānti [sic] (308b4), tai [lege: tāy] päpyai kektseñäntse (515a6). + -- päpä-were ‘evil-smelling’ (282a5). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (1941:90, 1976:396) suggests that we have hear a reduplication of the PIE *peu(h_x)- ‘foul, stink’ (cf. P:848-9; cf. MA:471). Semantically such a connection is excellent but there are no extra-Tocharian parallels for the form. +

+ + +
+

+pär- +(vt.) +‘bear (away), carry (off); take up; wear’
+Ps. II /pär^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, paräṃ// -, parcer, pareṃ; AImpf. // -, -, priyeṃ; APart. preñca; MPPart. premane; Ger. pralle]; Ko. and Ipv. supplied by ²ās-, q.v.; Pt. Ib /kāmā-/ [MP kamāmai (?), -, kamāte// -, -, kamānte]; PP /kākāmā-/ +te pūwar tsakṣäṃ war paräṃ ‘fire burns it and water carries [it off]’ (33a4), āś kenīne paräṃ ‘he bears [his] head on [his] knees’ (370a4), ṣamāni makci naumīyenta pareṃ ‘the monks themselves are wearing jewels’ (337a1); k_uce ñiś kāmmai [sic] tesa nauṣ larauwñesa arañcne po tserekwa ‘all deceptions which I carried earlier in my heart out of love therefore’ (271b1), makte sakna kamāte ‘he himself wore rags’ (12b3), [pā]tr[ai] kamāte masa tāwäś ‘he took up [his] alms bowl and went to her’ (25a6), pekweṃcceṃ sū kāmāte pattrainne cpī Utari [sic] ‘he carried these rings in Uttara's alms-bowl’ (133b4). + -- kakāmarmeṃ +∎AB pär- reflect PTch *pär- from PIE *b^her- ‘bear, carry’ [: Sanskrit bhárati, Avestan baraiti, Armenian berem, Greek phérō, Albanian bie (< *b^herō), Latin ferō, Old Irish biru, Gothic bairan, etc. (P:128-132; MA:56)] (Fraenkel, 1932:227, VW:361-2). +
+AB kāmā- reflect PTch *kemā- (with ā-umlaut) from PIE *gem- ‘grasp (with the hands), press together’ [: Greek génto ‘grasped’ (< *gemto), apógeme = áphelke (Hesychius), gémō ‘I am full,’ gemízō ‘fill,’ Latin gemō ‘sigh’ (< *‘have a full heart’), Latvian gùmstu ‘grip,’ OCS žьmǫ ‘compress,’ etc. (P:368-9; MA:450)] (Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:378, VW:194). +See also prentsa, kakāmar. +

+ + +
+

+pärk-¹ +(vt.) +‘ask, question’
+Ps. VIII /preks^'ä/_e-/ [A preksau, prekṣt, prekṣäṃ// -, -, prekseṃ; AImpf. -, -, prekṣi// -, -, prekṣiyeṃ; MPImpf. -, -, prekṣītär//; MPPart. preksemane; Ger. prekṣalle (adj.) ‘to be questioned,’ (n.) ‘questioning’)]; Ko. I /prek- ~ pärk-/ [A preku, -, prekäṃ// -, -, parkäṃ; AOpt. -, parśit, parśi//; Inf. parktsi; Ger. parkälle]; Ipv. III /pärksā-/ [APl. parksat]; Pt. IIIa /prek(sā)- ~ pärksā-/ [A -, -, preksa// -, -, prekar; MP // -, -, parksante]; PP /pepärku-/ +ceyna cāneṃ lau c[ä]rkāwa-ś po preksau-ś m[ā] po śiṅka[t] ‘I released the cānes to thee; [now] I ask thee [for] everything; do not hold anything back!’ (495b1), mälkwer prekseṃ wnolme[n]m[eṃ] ‘they ask milk from beings’ (129a2), [spa]ktanīkeṃ kāka ot prekṣi-[n]e ‘he called the servant and questioned him’ (385a3), prekṣallen[e] wayāre-ne prekṣentaṃ weñāre ‘they led him into the questioning and the judges spoke’ (H-149-ADD.12b1 [Thomas, 1967:26]); preku se sūtär winai abhidhārm aiykemane tākaṃ pāyti (TEB-65-5), ce-ra-tsa prekäṃ-ne po weṣṣäṃ ‘whatever he asks him, he will tell all’ (M-3b6); preksa ṣamāneṃ pudñäkte mäktā_u plācsa ṣmīcer yes ‘the Buddha asked the monks: for what speech were you sitting?’ (3a6), ce_u prekar ate kampāl yamaṣ sta ‘they asked him: didst thou take away the cloak?’ (337a5), [eka]ñenta āyormeṃ parksante-ne (577a6); ce prāśśäṃ pepärkoṣ ‘having asked this question’ (588a7). + -- pepärkormeṃ +∎AB pärk- (usually given as A prak- and B prek-) reflect PTch *pärk- from PIE *preḱ-‘ask’ [: Sanskrit pṛccháti ‘asks,’ Avestan pərərsaiti ‘id.,’ Armenian harcanam ‘id.,’ Latin poscō ‘id.,’ OHG forscōn ‘id.,’ (all ultimately from a PIE present *pṛḱsḱe/o-), Lithuanian peršù, Latin precor ‘ask, request,’ Gothic fraihnan ‘id.,’ Old English frignan ‘id.,’ German fragen ‘id.’ (as if from PIE *prēḱ-), OHG fergōn (probably with an analogical full-grade), OCS prositi ‘ask,’ Lithuanian prašaũ ‘ask, research’ (P:821-2; MA:33)] (Petersen, 1933:15, VW:386). The Tocharian present is (as if) from PIE *prēḱse/o-. +See also prekṣenta and prekṣātstse. +

+ + +
+

+pärk-² +(vi.) +‘arise; rise, come up [of celestial bodies]’
+Ko. V /pärkā-/ [A -, -, parkaṃ//; MPOpt. -, -, pärkoytär//; Ger. pärkālle]; Ipv. /pärkā-/ [MPSg. parkar]; Pt. Ia /pärkā-/ [A -, pärkāsta, parka//]; PP /pärko-/ +tu-yäknesa aurtsana aiśamñenta pärkaṃ-[m]e ‘suchwise broad knowledge will arise to them’ (PK-16.2b6 [Couvreur, 1954c:85]), pūwarne hom yamaṣlya lānte rinale pärkalle mäsketrä (M-3a6); [kauṃ] pärkasta ‘thou hast come up [like] the sun’ (207a1), /// parka meñe wnolmentsa täñ ‘the moon rose over thy creatures’ (214a1); kauc ka kaum [sic] [ṣai] pärkawo [sic] ‘high had the sun risen’ (5b3/4). + -- parkormeṃ: kā sū kä[ṣṣ]i [akā]śe parkormeṃ [t]e [o]t weña ‘Why has the teacher, the sky having risen, then said this?’ (178a/45); +
+pärkālñe ‘rising [of the sun]; origin’: pärkālyñe mä[sk]e[trä] = BHS samudayo bhavati (156a6), poyś[i]ññeṃ kauñäktentso pärkālñe triśim manta ‘may I never miss the rising of the Buddha-suns’ (S-6b6); +
+parkor ‘rising of the sun’: skakaṃnamaṃ kaunäntse pärkorne wawākauwa piltasā /// ‘from the balconies petals [that had] unfolded at dawn [were strewn]’ (PK-NS-12K-b2 [Winter, 1988:788]). +∎AB pärk- reflect PTch *pärk- from PIE *b^herǵ^h- ‘raise up’ [: Sanskrit bṛṃhati ‘strengthens, raises,’ Hittite parkiya-/park- ‘raise oneself, become tall, grow,’ Armenian (ham)baṙnam ‘raise up,’ and a host of nominal derivatives, e.g. Sanskrit bṛhant- ‘tall, big, strong,’ Avestan bərəzant- ‘id.,’ Old Latin forctus ‘strong,’ OHG berg ‘mountain,’ Armenian berj ‘height,’ Hittite parkus ‘tall,’ Armenian barjr ‘id.,’ Cuneiform Luvian parri/parrai ‘high’; (< *b^hṛǵ^hi-), TchB pärkare ‘long,’ etc. (P:140-141; MA:269)] (VW, 1941:90, 1976:362). +See also pärkare, pärkor, -pirko, parki, and pärkā_u. +

+ + +
+

+pärkare* +(adj.) +‘long’
+[m: -, -, pärkareṃ//] [f: pärkarya, -, pärkaryai//pärkrona, -, -] +yailuwa tanki pärkron[a] pr[a]r[o]ññ ‘curved, thick, long fingers’ (73b1), [śa]nmausa śānmyatai prākre twe pärkreṃ prekentsa ‘thou wert bound fast with bonds for a long time’ (83a2), pärkaryai ytāri masta ‘thou didst set out [on] the long road’ (353b4), pärkarya no āksaṣeñcatse yaṣi = BHS dīrgha hi jāgrato rātriḥ (H-149.329a1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486]), [mā pärka]r[eṃ] BHS aciraṃ (PK-NS 306/305b5 [Couvreur, 1970:177]). + -- pärkre-śaul ‘long-lived’ (PK-12J-a6 [Thomas, 1978b:150]); +
+pärkre-klauts ‘having long ears’ (H-149.ADD.38a1 [Thomnas 1978b:150]); +
+pärkarñe ‘length’: omte se yarm pärkarñesa wi rsoñc ‘there the measure in length [should be] two spans’ (H-149.X.4a6/b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎TchA pärkär and B pärkare reflect PTch *pärk(ä)re, (as if) from PIE *b^hṛǵ^h-ró-, the pre-Tch replacement of PIE *b^herǵ^h-u- [: Hittite parkus, Armenian barjr, both ‘tall,’ and with different morphology Sanskrit bṛhant-, Avestan bərəzant-, both ‘tall,’ and Khotanese bulysa- ‘long’ (P:140-141; MA:269)], an adjectival derivative of *b^herǵ^h- (cf. ²pärk-). The semantic shift from ‘tall’ to ‘long’ (what is ‘tall’ when standing up becomes ‘long’ when laid down) is paralleled in Khotanese (Meillet, 1912:115, Pedersen, 1941:38-9, VW:363). +See also emparkre and pärk-². +

+ + +
+

+pärkā_u +(n.) +‘benefit, advantage; profit’
+[pärkā_u, pärkāwäntse, -//pärkāwänta, -, pärkāwänta] +pärkā_u = BHS artha- (20a3), k_use samāne karyor pito yamasträ olank kärnāsträ kwāts plankṣäṃ pärkāw[n]se pelkiṃ tu cwi päst [t]ärkanalle ‘whatever monk does buying and selling and buys cheaply and sells dearly for the sake of profit, it must [be] given back by him’ (337b3/4), śak no weña pärkāwnta pudñäkte śpālmeṃ weñenta ‘however, the Buddha, the best of speakers, spoke of the ten benefits’ (K-9a2). + -- pärkāwṣe* ‘prtng to profit’: k_use ṣamāne naumīye naumīyesa maskäṣṣäṃ pärkāwṣe imesa sū naumīye päst [t]ärkanalle ‘whatever monk exchanges one jewel for another with consciousness of [possible] profit, he [is] to give up the jewel’ (337a3). +∎TchA pärko and B pärkā_u ‘advantage, benefit’ reflect PTch *pärkā-w(ä), a derivative of pärk-², q.v. (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:449, VW:363). +

+ + +
+

+pärki +See parki. +

+ + +
+

+pärkor +See pärk-². +

+ + +
+

+pärkṣalle +(verbal adj.) +‘to be roasted’ (?)
+/// malkwersa pärkṣalle pärsarets sātke (W-31b5). +∎If not a miswriting for the common päkṣalle ‘to be cooked,’ pärkṣalle would represent a present pärk-s^'ä/_e- where pärk- would reflect PIE *b^h(e)rǵ- ‘± roast’ [: Sanskrit bhṛjjáti ‘roasts’ (< *bhṛjyáti), Modern Persian barštan ‘roast,’ Old Prussian au-birgo ‘Garkoch,’ Old Latin ferctum ‘roasted sacrificial offering’ (for the Indo-Iranian, Baltic, and Latin, see Mayrhofer, 1963:520-1)]. +

+ + +
+

+pärnaññe +See parna. +

+ + +
+

+pärmaṅk +(n.[m/f.sg]) +‘hope’
+[pärmaṅk, -, pärmaṅk//-, -, pärmaṅkänta] +karsnaṃ pärmaṅk ṣañ śāmnaṃts mäntaṃ pw akālkänta ‘it cuts off the hope of one's companions and erases all wishes’ (3b7), sā_u po[yśintse pudñäkte]ntse pärmaṅk ṣai-ne ‘the hope was in the all-knowing Buddha’ (25a5/6). + -- pärmaṅkätstse* ‘hopeful’ (99b4). +∎Etymology unknown. TchA pärmaṅk is identical with its B counterpart but whether it is a borrowing from B or vice versa is not obvious. VW (363-4) suggests an old A compound pär-maṅk where the second part is A maṅk ‘lack, deprivation’ (cf. B meṅki ‘id.’) but the first member of the compound is otherwise unknown and, in any case, the semantics are hardly compelling. +

+ + +
+

+pärwāne* +(n.[dual]) +‘brows’
+[/-, -, pärwāne/] +pärwān=epiṅkt=ānte[ne] ‘on the forehead, between the brows’ (9b3), krent wāṣmoṣṣe wassisā meṅkīce snai yase kwīpets parwāne auloṣsā ‘lacking the clothing of good friendship and with the outthrust brows of shame and dishonor’ (282a5). +∎TchA pärwāṃ* and B pärwāne reflect PTch (dual) *pärwāne from PIE *b^hruh_xōn-. PTch *pärwāne is exactly matched by Old Norse brūn. More distantly we have Sanskrit bhrūḥ (f.), Avestan brvat- (f.), Greek ophrūs (f.), all ‘brow,’ Old Irish for-brú ‘eyelashes,’ Old English brū (f.), Lithuanian bruvìs (m.), Old Bulgarian brъvь, all ‘brow’ (P:172-3; MA:188). This etymology goes back in nuce to Schrader-Nehring 1917:635 (VW:366-7). As variants on this theory we might mention that K. T. Schmidt (1982:364) takes PTch pärwā- to be the exact match of Sanskrit bhrūḥ (both from PIE *b^hruh_x) while Lindeman (1987:301) would start from the dual, *b^hruh_ae (phonetically *b^hruh_aa) to which the regular Tocharian dual -ne was added giving *pärwāne. +

+ + +
+

+pärwe +See parwe. +

+ + +
+

+pärweṣṣe +(adj.) +‘first’ ; (adv.) ‘first, earlier’
+[m: pärweṣṣe, -, pärweṣṣe//] +ṣesa wertsyaimpa kalpa perne su pärweṣṣe ‘along with [his] retinue he achieved the first grade [of distinction]’ (23a1/2), Prābhāse wlo pärweṣṣe Siddharthe ṣpä postäññe ‘P. [was] the first king and S., the later’ (228a2), pärweṣṣe yaṣi ‘in the first part of the night’ [= BHS prathamāṃ rātriṃ] (H-149.152a7 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:485]), pärweṣṣe kṣuntsa [] piṅkce meṃne [] ikäṃ okne ‘in the first [year of] the regnal period, in the fifth month, on the twenty-eighth [day]’ (LP-14a1/2). +∎An adjectival derivative in -ṣṣe from parwe, q.v. +See also pärwetstse*. +

+ + +
+

+pärwetstse* +(adj.) +‘± aged’
+[f: -, -, pärwetstsai//] +kuñcītäṣṣe ṣalypesa ṣpärkaṣalle tumeṃ pärwettsai mālasa yokalle ‘it [is] to be dissolved in sesame oil; then it [is] to be drunk with an aged alcoholic drink’ (W-33a4/5). +∎An adjectival derivative in -tstse from parwe, q.v. +See also pärweṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+pärśeri* +(n.) +‘(head-)louse’ (?)
+[//-, -, pärśeriṃ] +āśne yamaṣṣälle pärṣereṃ [sic] nakṣäṃ ‘it [is] to be put on the head; it destroys lice’ (W-3a4), mrestīwe warsa päkṣalle pärśeriṃ nakṣäṃ ‘marrow with water [is] to be cooked; it destroys lice’ (W-5a5). +‣The meaning is, very tentatively, suggested on the basis of the connection with the head. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+pärṣeriṃ +See pärśeri. +

+ + +
+

+pärs- +(vt.) +‘sprinkle’ [with a liquid as either direct object or as instrument, as in English]
+Ps. VI /pärsnā-/ [A -, -, parsnaṃ//; AImpf. // -, -, pärsnoṃ; Ger. pärsnālle]; Pt. Ia /pärsā-/ [A // -, -, pärsāre ~ pirsāre; MP -, -, pärsāte//] +wär śār parsnān tesa ceken-ne ṣärsa ‘he sprinkled the water thus in the rivers with his hand’ (121a6); [warsa] krūnaṣṣe pirsāre keṃ po wnolmi cew prek[e] ‘in that time creatures sprinkled the whole earth with the water of mercy’ (45a3), warttoṣṣe makūltsa tatrāpparmeṃ rūpsa klāya pärsāte keṃne mrakwe yopsa-ne ‘tripping over a forest root, he fell on [his] face; a little [of the container's contents] sprinkled out and entered in the ground’ (88a2/3). +∎AB pärs- reflect PTch *pärs- from PIE *pers- ‘sprinkle’ [: Hittite pappars- ‘sprinkle,’ and nominal derivatives such as Sanskrit pṛṣat- ‘drop,’ pṛṣant- ‘sprinkled, speckled,’ Lithuanian pur̃sla (f.) ‘drivel; spray,’ OCS prachъ (m.) ‘dust’ (< *porso-), prъstь ‘heaped up soil’ (< *pṛsti-), Slovenian pr̃h (m.) ‘dust, ash,’ (denominative) prhati ‘strew; drizzle,’ Old Norse fors/foss ‘waterfall’ (P:823; MA:540)] (Friedrich, 1931:41, VW:365-6). Perhaps TchA päs- ‘id.’ belongs here also if the original -rs- cluster was facultatively simplified. +See also pärsāntse, pränts-, and praściye. +

+ + +
+

+pärsanta +See parso. +

+ + +
+

+pärsare* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, pärsareṃts, pärsareṃ] +/// malkwersa pärkṣalle pärsarets sātke (W-31b5), kwäñcītäṣṣe ṣalypesa aśne yamaṣälle ātse lutäṣṣäṃ pärsareṃ nakṣäṃ (W-38b1/2). +

+ + +
+

+pärsāntse +(adj.) +‘resplendent, speckled’
+[pärsāntse, -, -//pärsāñci, -, -] [f: //pärsāntsana, -, -] +kokalyi olyapotstse pärsāñci [olyapotstse pärsāñci = BHS sucitrāḥ] (5a8), pärsāntsana toṃ krentauna ‘these resplendent virtues’ (23a5). +∎Along with TchA pärs ‘id.’ a derivative of AB pärs-, q.v. For the formation one should particularly compare Sanskrit pṛṣant- ‘speckled’ (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:6 and 449, VW, 1941:91, 1976:365). +

+ + +
+

+pärsk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘feel fear, be afraid’ [N + -sa = ‘be afraid of’]; K ‘frighten’ [only attested in the middle: ‘be frightened’]
+G Ps. V /prāskā- ~ präskā-/ [A prāskau, prāskat, prāskaṃ// -, -, parskaṃ; Ger. parskalle]; Ko. V (= Ps.) [A prāskau, -, -//]; Pt. Ia /pärskā-/ [A -, -, parska// -, -, pärskāre]; PP /pärsko-/ +cey cew yāmorsa mā parskaṃ mā ykāṃṣñenträ ‘these, by such a deed, do not fear, nor are they ashamed’ (K-2b6), praskaṃ = BHS bibheti (U-16b2); arai srukalyñe cisa nta kca mā prāskau ... kā ñiś ṣeske tañ prāskau ... cisa prāskau pon preken-ne ‘O death, I will fear nothing more than thee; Why will I fear only thee? I will be afraid for thee in all times’ (298); pärsk= ā[ksa]ṣṣukintsā lyäk ‘the thief was afraid of the informers’ (133b5); sū pärkau [śau]ltsa lac ostm[eṃ] ‘he, fearing for [his] life, went out of the house’ (3b2). +‣One should note that the TchB present is nothing more than the subjunctive used as a present. + -- parskalñe ‘± fear’: (124a6). +∎AB pärsk- reflect PTch *pär(k)sk-, (as if) from PIE *pṛK-sḱe/o- from the root *p(e)rK- seen otherwise only in Germanic, and there too only in the zero-grade [: Gothic faurhtei, Old English fyrhtu ‘fright, fear,’ Gothic faurhtjan ‘to fear’ (P:820; MA:198)] (Holthausen, 1921:65, VW:366). +See also prosko and praskāre. +

+ + +
+

+päl- +(vt.) +‘praise, commend’
+Ps. VI /pällā-/ [MP pällāmar, -, pällātär// -, -, pällāntär; Ger. pällālle*]; Ko. V /pālā-/ [MP pālamar, -, -// -, -, pālantär; MPOpt. pāloymar, -, -//]; Pt. Ib /pālā-/ [MP palāmai, palātai, palāte// -, -, palānte]; PP /pāpālā-/ +mā tusa kātkau mā tu pällāmar ‘thus I do not rejoice and do not praise it’ (596a4), [in Manichean script] pl’m’r = pällāmar (Winter/Gabain:13), takarṣkñesa nätkausa k_uce palamai-c pälalyu [sic] ‘while I, pressed by faith, have praised thee, O praiseworthy one’ (241b5); pālamar ci po täṅwsā ‘I will praise thee with all [my] love’ (240b6); [ṣa]ñ añm palāmai ñäś ‘I praised myself’ (46a5), mantaṃtā pasi märsasta pālatai-ne ṣukomtsa ‘never hast thou forgotten to guard [thy behavior]; thou has praised him [scil. the Buddha] for seven days’ (296b1=297.1a4); papālau = BHS praśaṃsitaḥ (U-18a3), papālau = BHS -iṣṭa- (Y-1b3). + -- papālar* ‘praise’: /// śaktāly[e] papalarsa ci ñakta nervvaṃn [sic] oko kälale ‘the seed [is] to achieve the nirvana-fruit by praise of thee, O lord’ (205a2); +
+pālalñe ‘praise, commendation, fame’: pālalñe = BHS praśaṃsāṃ (14a6). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps AB päl- reflect PTch *päl- from PIE *b^hel- ‘speak, yell; bark’ [: Sanskrit bhaṣá- ‘barking, yelping,’ bhāṣate ‘speaks, tells, announces’ (in both cases -ṣ- reflects PIE *-ls-), and possibly bháṇati ‘speaks’ if this reflects *b^helne/o- (Middle Indic seems to have had a bhaṇā- [Mayrhofer, 1963:465] which would exactly match the Tch present pällā-, both [as if] from PIE *b^hḷneh_a-) but its relationship with bhánati ‘id.’ and Khotanese ban- ‘cry out’ remains uncertain), Old Norse belja ‘roar,’ OE bellan ‘roar, yelp, grunt,’ Old Prussian billīt ‘speak,’ Lithuanian bìlstu ‘begin to speak,’ bilóju ‘speak,’ bal̃sas ‘voice, tone,’ etc. (P:123-4)] (Meillet, 1911:457, VW:356). Also possible is a connection with *(s)pel- ‘say aloud, recite’ [: Goth spill ‘speech, story,’ Alb fjalë ‘word, tale, statement,’ Arm aṙa-spel ‘saying, riddle’ (P:185; MA:536)]. +See also palauna, pällarṣke, ploriyo and, more distantly, pälw- and possibly pälsk-. +

+ + +
+

+päliyeṣṣe +(adj.) +‘?’
+Purvvarsätne päliyeṣṣe ṣirsau ṣuktä näsait yamaṣäle (M-2a3/4). +

+ + +
+

+pälk-¹ +(vt.) +‘see, look at’
+Ko. V /pālkā- ~ pälkā-/ [A pālkau, -, pālkaṃ//; Inf. palkatsi]; Ipv. /pālkā- ~ pälkā-/ [ASg. pālka; APl. palkas; MPSg. palkar]; Pt. I /pälykā ~ pälkā-/ [A -, -, palyka// -, -, pälykār ~ pilykār; MP -, -, pälkāte//]; PP /pälko-/ +[anti]ṣ-puräṣṣana klainampa Rāhuleṃ palkasi ‘to see R. with the harem women’ (109a6); pālka kektseñ ñi ‘look at my body!’ (47a7), [pe]laikne täṅkwsa pw āñmtsa päklyauṣtso pelaikn=ākṣiṃ karttse palkas ‘hear the law with your whole hearts; look with favor on the announcers of the law!’ (19a2); [pa]lyka täṅwsa no ke_ucä katkemane pū[d]-ñ[ä]ktemeṃ ṣamāññe ot rītāte ‘he saw with love and rejoicing; greatly he sought monasticism from the Buddha’ (365a5). +‣This verb provides the only imperative and alternate subjunctive, preterite, and preterite participles to läk- ‘see, look at,’ q.v. + -- pälkormeṃ ‘having seen; with regard to’: ce ṣarm palkormeṃ [sic] palska āñmämpa ‘he thought about himself in regard to this origin’ (288b5), [naumi]käne kreñc eśanesa brāhmaṇeṃ pälkormeṃ ‘seeing the brahmans with good, shining eyes’ (PK-NS-35a3 [Couvreur, 1964:238]); +
+pälkālñe ‘± observation’: ets[w]ai palkalñe = BHS upalakṣaṇā (41a7). +∎AB ¹pälk- reflect PTch pälk- and is basically identical to both ²pälk- and ³pälk-. The semantic development has been from ‘burn’ (³pälk-) to ‘shine, illuminate’ (²pälk-) to ‘see.’ For extra-Tocharian cognates, see ³pälk-. +See also pälkaucäkka, pälkostau, and pilko. +

+ + +
+

+pälk-² +(vi./vt.?) +‘shine, illuminate’
+G Ps. I /pälk-/ [A -, -, palkäṃ//; AImpf. -, -, palyśi// -, -, pälyciyeṃ]; Pt. Ia /pälkā-/ [A -, -, palka//]; +
+K Pt. II /pyālkā-/ [A -, -, pyālka//] +saswe - cwi krentaunaśc palkäṃ ‘the lord illuminates [all?] with his virtues’ (91b4/5), keṣe-yärm lkāṣṣi palyśi ke/// ‘he saw the measure of a fathom; he illuminated [the earth?]’ (517b1), [kau]c särwānā pälśy[eṃ y]w[ā]rc ‘the face highlighted half’ (394a2); ysaṣṣa askace mänt pälka kektseñe täñ ‘like golden kuśa-grass the body shone’ (224b2), ṣl[e]ntse tärnene kaun ra pälkā klyemāne ‘as if standing on the summit of the mountain the sun shone’ (H-149.50a7 [Thomas, 1968b:209, fn. 3]); ///sa pyālka iprer śāsaṃṣṣe kana[k]e /// (429a4). +∎AB ²pälk- reflect PTch *pälk-. For a discussion of its prehistory and extra-Tocharian cognates, see ¹pälk- and ³pälk-. One should note that the athematic present of ²pälk- reflects the most archaic morphological state for this verb complex, but not the most archaic meaning. +See also pälkamo. +

+ + +
+

+pälk-³ +(vi./vt.) +G ‘burn (intr.)’; K ‘burn (tr.), torture’
+G Ps. III /pälke-/ [MP -, -, pälketär//]; +
+K Ps. VIII /pälks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, palkṣäṃ//; MP -, -, palkṣtär//]; Ko. II /pälk^'ä/_e-/ [MPOpt. -, -, palyśitär//]; Pt. IIIb /pelyk(sā)-/ [A pelykwa, -, //; MP -, pelyksatai, -]; PP /pepälyku-/ +pūwar salpäṃ palskone pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt ‘fire glows in [his] spirit; his whole body burns like a firebrand’ (8a5); [o]soträ śaiṣṣe se aṅkain-pilkoṣṣe kaun pälkṣän-me [lege: -ne] ‘the world dries up; the sun of false insight burns it’ (282a3), /// [ke]kts[e]ñ mā palkṣträ ‘it does not burn the body’ [= BHS kāyo na paridahyate; see the discussion in Thomas, 1983:165] (14b3); mā palyśitär = BHS na tāpayet (20b2); lareṃnmeṃ tsrelñ[e]s[a] saṃsārn[e] kä[r]py[eṃ] ce p[e]lyks[a]t[ai twe no] ‘thou hast been tortured in this common saṃsāra by separation from dear ones’ (83a1); kekmusai wertsyai lyāka pu[d]ñ[äk]t[e lä]kl[e]ssuntsai p[epa]lykusai ‘the Buddha saw the company [which had] come, suffering and tortured’ (17a4/5). + -- pälśalñe ~ pilycalñe ‘burning, inflammation; pain, torture, mortification; penance’: yolo reki [tärkau] koynmeṃ pälśalläññe källāṣṣäṃ ‘an evil word released from the mouth brings torture’ (19b4), pälśälyñ[e] = BHS upatāpanam (251b1), pälśalñe = BHS vidāha- (Y-3a2), [in Manichean script] [p]lšylyns’h = [p]älśilñesa (Winter/Gabain:11). +∎AB pälk- reflect PTch *pälk- from PIE *b^hleg- [: Greek phlégō (tr.) ‘burn, singe, ignite,’ Latin flagrō (intr.) ‘blaze, burn, glow,’ fulgō/fulgeō (intr.) ‘flash, lighten, shine,’ OHG blecchen ‘become visible, let see,’ and with nasal infix OHG blinken ‘glitter, gleam,’ Old Lithuanian blinginti ‘shine,’ etc. (P:124-5; MA:513)] (Meillet, 1911:148, VW:357). The relationship with Latin fulgeō is particularly close. The Latin represents *b^hḷg-eh₁-, while Tocharian represents *b^hḷg-h₁-ó-. Other semantic developments from this root are to be seen in pälk-¹ and pälk-², qq.v. +See also pälk-¹, pälk-², and probably pilke, pilkwer, pälkiye, and pälsk-. +

+ + +
+

+pälkamo +(adj.) +‘± luminous’
+[pälkamo, -, pälkamoṃ//] [f: pälkamña, -, -//pälkamñana, -, -] +akāśne eneṅka wäntarwa pälkamñana skente ‘there are luminous things in the sky’ (178a4), pälkämñā tākaṃ ken ‘the earth will be luminous’ (571a7), [in Manichean script] plk/// = pälkmo (Winter/Gabain:11). +∎An adjectival derivative of the present stem of pälk-², q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pälkiye +(n.) +‘desert, waste’
+[pälkiye, -, -//] +pälkiye = BHS iriṇaṃ (534a2). +∎Presumably a derivative of ³pälk-, (as if) from PIE *b^h(e)lgu-yo- or *b^h(e)lgu-h₁en- ‘the burning place.’ +

+ + +
+

+pälkostau* +(n.) +‘spy’
+[//pälkostañc, -, -] +(K-T). +∎A derivative of pälk-¹, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pälkaucäkka +(n.) +‘fortune-teller’
+[pälkaucäkka, -, -//] +pälkaucäkka = BHS ikṣaṇikā (529al). +∎A derived nomen agentis, probably feminine, from the subjunctive stem of ¹pälk-. +

+ + +
+

+pält- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘± drip’ (intr.); K ‘± drip’ (tr.)
+G Ko. I? /pält-/ [Inf. paltsi]; +
+K Ps. IX /pältäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. paltäṣṣälle] +/// [tä]ttāw pältsi taurne wat ly[a]kemāne (118a2); /// paltä[ṣl]e cau ṣe ṣ śār kutär (324b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Either from a PIE *p(e)l-d- [: Lithuanian példu ‘swim,’ OHG fledirōn ‘flutter, float in the wind,’ Greek pládos ‘humidity,’ pladáō ‘be damp,’ etc. (P:800-1)] (VW, 1949:301, Couvreur, 1950:129, VW, 1976:358) or PIE *plu-d- [: Old Irish im-lúaidi ‘exigitat,’ Old English flēotan ‘flow,’ flotian ‘float,’ Lithuanian pláudžiu ‘wash, purify,’ etc. (P:837)]. +See also pältakw and possibly either plutk- or plu-. +

+ + +
+

+pältakw +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘drop; dew’
+[pältakw, -, pältakw//] +śaul attsaik totka śāmnaṃts ñke wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä [ramt] atyaṃts a[k]entasa ‘life of men [is] very short, like a drop of water on the tips of grasses’ (3b3/4), mantanta ksa ṣp nāge campi pältak swese swāsästsi ‘never could the nāga rain a drop [of] rain’ (350a3). +∎A derivative, with the concrete nominalizer -äkw, from pält-. +

+ + +
+

+pällarṣke +(adj.) +‘± praiseworthy’
+[m: pällarṣke, -, -//] +/// pañäktaññe pelaikne ate tot empreṃtse swāre nekarṣke pällarṣke ste (101a5). +∎An adjectival derivative of päl-, q.v. For the form, compare mällarṣke, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pälle_u* +(n.) +‘full-moon’
+[-, -, pällent//] +[särwānāṣṣe] yerpesa meñ pällentn[e ṣeṣṣirku] ‘having surpassed the moon in its fulness by the orb of [thy] face’ (92b1), /// pratiwatmeṃ pällenta [sic] /// ‘from the new moon to the full moon’ (439a3). + -- pällentaṣṣe ‘prtng to the full of the moon’ (71a5). +∎That this word must ultimately be connected with PIE *pleh₁- ‘fill’ no one doubts but just what the relationship is open to question (cf. P:799-800; MA:214). Winter (1965:205) suggests a *p(e)lh₁no-wont- parallel to the *p(e)lh₁nos-wont- seen in Avestan parənah-vant- ‘ample.’ The relationship between the hypothetical nominative singular, *pälle_u, and the attested accusative singular pällent is just a bit mysterious but that -e_u/-ent is what we expect from such derivatives is amply demonstrated by such words as perne_u/pernent ‘worthy.’ Rather than PIE *p(e)lh₁nos-wont- as we see in Avestan we would have to start from a thematic *p(e)lh₁no-, as we see in Latin plēnus. VW (359-60), on the other hand suggests that the -nt- represents an old present participle to a derived, denominative verb based on *p(e)lh₁no-. However, such denominative verbs in Tocharian seem to have been consistently in *-eh_a- so we would expect, if VW's morphological derivation were true, a form *pällānt-. +

+ + +
+

+pälw- +(vi./vt.) +‘complain, bewail one's fate’ (intr.); ‘complain to’ (tr.)
+Ps. V /pälwā-/ [A -, -, palwaṃ// pälwām, -, -; MPPart. pälwāmane; Ger. pälwālle]; Pt. Ib /plyāwā-/ [A -, -, plyāwa// -, -, plywāre]; PP /pepälywu-/ +nauṣ su plyāwa alyeṅkäṃ ceṃ ñake ce_u wes pälwāmo ‘earlier he complained to these others, now we complain to him’ (46b2), trikau laklesa ... pälwāma[ne po]yśiṃś rekauna ‘confused by suffering, bewailing [these] words to the Buddha’ (15a1=17a1); tu-yparwe māka plyawāre ñakti śāmna ‘therefore many gods and men complained’ (45a3). + -- pepälywor ‘± complaint’: /// pepälyworsa (?) ñäṣṣäṃ /// ‘he seeks by complaining’ (147.4a1); +
+pälwālñe ‘± complaint’ (?): (H-149.69a4 [K]). +∎Etymology uncertain. TchB pälw- reflects a PTch *pälw- which might be from PIE *b^hḷw-, a derivative with the common verbal élargissement *-w- of *b^hel- ‘speak, yell; bark’ (cf. päl- ‘praise’). The relationship between päl- (present stem *päl-nā-) and pälw- would be similar to that obtaining between päk- ‘intend’ (present päk-nā-) and päkw- ‘expect.’ The semantic development seen in päl- would represent the positive specialization of ‘crying out’ while that of pälw- would represent the negative side. Phonologically attractive is VW's connection (359) with Greek phléō and phlúō, both of which can mean ‘babble.’ However, the equation is semantically unsatisfying as both Greek verbs have as their more basic meaning something on the order of ‘overflow with, team.’ Normier, on the other hand, suggests (1980:269) reconstructing PTch *pläwā- and equating it with Proto-Slavic *bljьvati ‘vomit,’ itself from *blъvati by contamination with the present *bljujǫ. Like Van Windekens', this suggestion is semantically unsatisfying. +
+K. T. Schmidt (1982:365) much more plausibly suggests an equation with Vedic brū- and Avestan mrū- whose Proto-Indo-European present was an athematic *mrauh_x-. For Schmidt the Tocharian *pälwā- would represent the generalization of the PIE zero-grade *mluh_a-. Cf. Lindeman (1987:300-301). However, we find both ml- (e.g. mlutk-) and mr- (e.g. mrausk-) preserved in Tocharian so there is no compelling reason to see a PIE *ml- as PTch *pl- in this case. However, the denasalization in Sanskrit is also unexpected (MA:535). +See also päl- and possibly pälsk-. +

+ + +
+

+pälsk- +(vt.) +‘think about, consider’
+Ps. VI /pälsk(ä)nā-/ [A -, pälskanat, pälskanaṃ//; AImpf. pälskanoym, -, pälskanoy//; MP -, -, pälskanatär//; MPPart. pälskanamane; Ger. pälsknālle]; Ko. V /plāskā- ~ pälskā-/ [A plāskau, -, plāskaṃ//; AOpt. palskoym, -, palskoy//; MPOpt. -, -, palskoytär//; Inf. palskatsi]; Ipv. I /plāskā- ~ *pälskā-/ [Sg. plāska]; Pt. Ia /pälskā-/ [A -, -, palska// -, palskaso, pälskāre; MP -, -, pälskāte//]; PP /pälsko-/ +ce cowai carka tu mā pälskanaṃ ‘what he has robbed, he doesn't think about’ (DAM.507-a9 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), taiysu pälskanoym sanai ṣaryompa śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai ‘thus I thought: I will live with one lover for good all [my] life long’ (496a3/4), kr_ui añme mā nesäṃ kete ñäke tsälpālñe pälskanāträ ‘if there is no self, whose redemption is being thought about?’ (PK-12I-b5 [Thomas, 1979:43]); [tu]sa śpālmeṃ plāskaṃ ṣeme ṣṣeme kärtsauñe ‘thus he will consider each one [as] the best’ (64b8), sām palskoyträ = BHS samīkṣeta (300a3); karūn nai plāska pūdñä[ktentse] ‘consider indeed the Buddha's mercy!’ (283a1); palska sā_u klyi[ye] yamaṣle ñi ce preke ‘the woman thought: [what is] to be done by me in this time?’ (25a6). + -- pälskormeṃ; +
+palskalñe ‘thinking, thought, idea’: [pälskal]-ñ[e]nta pälskomeṃ nätknallona ‘the ideas [are] to be pushed from the mind’ (8b1), [nak]anma palskalñentaṃts yolaina toṃmeṃ pāṣṣat ‘guard from them the evil reproaches of thoughts’ (8b5), palskal[yñe] = BHS saṃpradhāraṇā (PK-NS-414a2 [Couvreur, 1966:170]), palskalyñemeṃ = BHS saṃkalpāt (U-2b3); +
+palskalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to thought, idea, etc.’ (8b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. It is probable the AB pälsk- reflect PTch *päl(k)sk-, (as if) from PIE *b^hḷg-sḱe/o-, with zero-grade and an inchoative suffix from PIE *b^helg- ‘burn’ > ‘shine’ > ‘look (at)’ (see ¹-, ²-, and ³pälk-). The semantic development would have been something like *‘come to look (at)’ > ‘consider’ > ‘think’ (cf. Greek sképtomai ‘look; examine, consider’ > Modern Greek ‘think,’ Sanskrit dhī- ‘think’ but Avestan dī- ‘look at, observe’). This is the position of VW:358 and of Jasanoff (1978:40, fn. 30) who points to the presence of *sḱe/o-presents in this verb in other Indo-European languages, Indic (Sanskrit bṛjjáti ‘roasts’) and Lithuanian (blizgėti ‘to glitter’). Mayrhofer, however, takes the Sanskrit bṛjjáti to reflect an earlier bṛjyáti and relates the latter to Latin ferctum ‘roasted sacrificial cake,’ etc. (1963:520-1). If so, of course, it would not belong here. However, AB pälsk- could reflect PTch *pälsk- (as if) from PIE *b^hḷsḱe/o-, an inchoative (‘± come to say’) of *bhel- ‘speak, yell; bark’ which may be seen also in päl- ‘praise’ and pälw- ‘bewail,’ qq.v. The semantic development would have been something on the order of *‘come to say’ > *‘deliberate’ > ‘think’ (cf. Old Irish imrādim ‘think’ from im- ‘about’ + rādi- ‘speak’). Much less probably, Toporov (apud Thomas, 1985b:114) suggests a relationship with PIE *pel- ‘shove, push’ (cf. Latin pulsus). In any case, the inchoative suffix has become extended to the entire paradigm, as is so often the case (cf. for instance pärsk- ‘fear’), and the full-grade in plāskā- (historically *pleskā-) is analogical. +See also palsko and pälskauca and, more distantly, probably pälk- but possibly päl- and pälw-. +

+ + +
+

+pälskoṣṣe, pälskossu +See palsko. +

+ + +
+

+pälskauca +(n.) +‘thinker; philosopher’
+[pälskauca, -, -//pälskaucañ, -, pälskaucaṃ] +wīkäskeṃ pälskaucañ Marantse śanmau kleśaṣṣe ‘the thinkers will destroy the kleśa-bond of Māra’ [pälskaucañ = BHS dhyāyinaḥ] (27b6), [pä]lskaucāntsa = BHS tārkikair (U-17a4). +∎A nomen agentis derived from the subjunctive of pälsk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pälyca-pälyc +([indeclinable] adj./adv.) +‘fleeting(ly)’
+pälyca-pälyc ra waskamo ‘moving fleetingly’ (245b4), śle pälsko pälycä-pälyc ra weru ramt ‘with a thought as fleeting as a bubble’ (295a6). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (1944:136-7, 1976:359-60) suggests a connection with plutk- ‘rise up’ and an original meaning *‘flying’ > ‘fleeting.’ Semantically this is satisfying enough but even better would be a connection with plu- ‘fly.’ If so, we might have the accusative of a verbal noun (*plutim/pludhen-) used adverbially (and reduplicated). +

+ + +
+

+päścane +(n.[dual]) +‘breasts’
+[/päścane, -, päścane/] +[ā]ntpi päśne sā_u taṣīträ ālīn[esa] ‘she touched both [her] breasts with the palms of [her] hands’ (84b5), läṅkamñane päścane ‘pendulous breasts’ (PK-NS-102b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989b:98]). +∎TchA päśśäṃ and B päścane reflect PTch *päścäne, the exact equivalent of Sanskrit stánā (nom. dual) ‘breasts’ (stána- [m.]). The Tocharian and Sanskrit words reflect a PIE thematic dual *pstenō (stem *psteno-). Tocharian shows an epenthetic vowel to break up the complex initial cluster while Sanskrit shows loss of the initial *p-. Forms with a lengthened grade are Avestan fštāna-, Modern Persian pistān (with the same kind of epenthesis we see in Tocharian), Armenian stin, and Greek stēnion (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:169, Pedersen, 1941:74-5, VW:368; cf. P:990; MA:81). One should perhaps compare also Hittite istanza (/stants/) ‘soul,’ if, as some suppose, this reflects PIE *pstēn + later nominative singular -s (Eichner, 1973, apud Puhvel, 1984:471; the equation is rejected by Puhvel). +

+ + +
+

+päst +(particle) +‘away, back’ also used with verbs with a perfectivizing force
+päst yaikormeṃ = BHS apanīya ... päst klautkoträ = BHS nivartate (lla5), päst paṣ ‘go away!’ (23b6), śaul ñi lāre päst rinaṣle ‘I must give up [my] dear life’ (25a8), ompalskoññe päst praṅkäṣṣäṃ ‘he checks meditation’ (33b2), päst ṅke śwāṃ-ñ ‘they will eat me up’ (83a6), śle witsakai päst nkema[r] ‘I will be completely destroyed with [my] root’ (94a4), teṃ epiṅktene sā_u onko[rñai] päs pyautka ‘in the meantime, the porridge had become ready’ (107a3), cai āntsi päst yelṣalyi ‘these elements [are] to be examined carefully’ (152a5), cey śwer meñ päs takāre ‘these four months were past’ (331a5/b1), päs aiy-ñ ... tu päs aiskem-ne ‘he must give it back to me ... we will give it all back to him’ (DAM.507a8/9 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), päst yayātäṣormeṃ = BHS vinīya (H-ADD.149.62a5 [Thomas, 1969:302, fn. 71]). +∎The unstressed byform of pest. +

+ + +
+

+pässäkw* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘garland’
+[-, -, pässak(w)//-, -, pässak(w)änta] +ce pässak wāpa kavviṣṣe ‘he wove this kavi-garland’ (429b1), pyapyaiṃ pässakäntasa ya[itoṣ] ‘decorated with flowers and garlands’ (589a2), [in Manichean script] br’mnyk/// ps’kr’m = bramñik[teṃtse] pässak ram (Winter/Gabain:11). +∎TchA psuk and B pässakw reflect PTch *pässäkw, a borrowing from Iranian *pusāka- (cf. Sogdian ’pspkh/’ps’k or Parthian pwsg and the corresponding Iranian loanword in Armenian, namely psak (Hansen, 1940:153, VW:636). One might note that in this loanword an original *-uk has transferred rounding from the vowel to the following consonant, giving -äkw, just as in sakw, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pi +(particle) +‘± really, indeed’ [used to emphasize questions and commands]
+saswa pstināṣṣar pi mcuṣkant[a] ‘O lord, let these princes be quiet!’ (53a2), /// w[e]sk[e]ṃ k_use pi se eṅwe ste ‘they ask: who is this man really?’ (91b4), Vibhuṣaṇaprabhe weṣṣäṃ ñakteṃts saswa k_use pi ksa ayi-ne pelaikne klyauṣtsi ‘V. speaks: Lord of gods, who will give him to hear the law?’ (99a4), tumeṃ weña au ~ watkaṣṣi pi pañäkte niṣīdaṃ ñremeṃ kälymi raso tsamtsi ‘then he spoke out: may the Buddha order the sitting-mat to increase a span from the direction of the fringe!’ (H-149.X.4a5/6 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎Probably related to the -pi of TchA which occurs as part of decade numbers, e.g. taryāk-wepi ‘32.’ PTch *pi is presumably a descendent of PIE *h₁epi [: Sanskrit ápi ‘also, in addition,’ api-/pi- ‘near, by,’ Avestan aipi ‘near, etc.,’ Armenian ew ‘and,’ Greek epí ‘to, on,’ ópithen ‘behind,’ Latin ob ‘in front of, because of,’ Lithuanian ap(i)- ‘around,’ etc. (P:323-4; MA:391)] (Smith, 1910:13, VW:373-4). +See also mapi. +

+ + +
+

+pi- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘sing’; K ‘cause to sing; blow [a musical instrument]’
+G Ko. V /pāyā- ~ pīyā-/ [A // -, -, piyaṃ; AOpt. // -, -, p(i)yoyeṃ]; +
+K Pt. Ib /pāyā-/ +kalneṃ ploryaṃ tne pīyaṃ lwāsa ‘the flutes (?) resound and the animals sing’ (589a6), mek pyoyeṃ ‘they had to sing a melody’ (PK-15-D-a7 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]); [spä]ntaiytsñeṣṣai wrākai pāyāsta klenauntsai ‘thou didst cause to sing [i.e. blow] the resounding shell of confidence’ (214b4). + -- pāyalñe ‘singing’: lo lmau tākoy mā keś wāyoy pāyalyñe ‘he must sit afar and not pay attention to the singing’ (PK-15-D-b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]). +∎TchB pi- ‘sing; make sing’ is probably cognate with the hapax A pis- at A-301b3 rapeyäntu pisāṣlaṃ koṣtlaṃ ‘musical instruments [are] to be blown and struck.’ The TchA word is clearly transitive and so the functional equivalent of the B causative. TchA pis-ās- may be an extension of a PTch *piy-äsk-, the probable shape of the causative present and subjunctive in TchB (corresponding to the attested preterite stem pāyā-). PTch *pi- is probably to be related to the otherwise isolated OCS pěti ‘sing’ (1st pers. sg. pojǫ) (Adams, 1982:133; MA:519-520). Not (with VW:374) related to Latin spīrāre under the assumption that the Tocharian words meant ‘± blow.’ +

+ + +
+

+pik- +(vt.) +‘write, paint’
+Ps. VII /piṅk-/ [A -, -, piṅkäṃ//; MPPart. piṅkemane; Ger. piṅkalle]; Ko. V /pāikā-/ [MP -, -, paikatär//; Inf. paikatsi]; Pt. Ib /pāikā-/ [A -, -, paika// paikām, -, paikāre; MP paikāmai, -, paikāte//]; PP /pāpāikā-/ +ṣle-taś piṅkäṃ Yuṣaiśco ‘the mountain-commander writes to Y.’ (LP-1a1), tarya piṭakänta piṅkemane tākoym ‘may I be writing the three piṭakas’ (605b3/4); yātka paikatsi toṃ pelaiknenta ‘he ordered [him] to write these laws’ (357a6); parso ette paiyka ‘he wrote the letter down’ (492a2), te Puñakāme paiyka ‘P. painted this’ [adjacent to a wall-painting] (G-Qm3), Śilayaśe Wiryadewe tuntse ṣotri paiykām ‘Ś. and W., we wrote the sign thereof’ (G-Su32), k_uce te makte paiykāmai ‘since I myself have written this’ (S-2b1); mäkte ost poṣiyantsa [wa]wārpau [pa]paikau ā[s]tre ‘as a house surrounded by walls and painted clean’ (A-2a4/5). + -- paikalñe ‘writing’: paikalñesa Aśvavārg colaṃ [yakweṃ yälloṣṣeṃ yātäṣṣīmar] ‘by the writing of the Aśvavarga may I tame the wild horses of the senses!’ (313a4). +∎AB pik- reflect PTch *pik- from PIE *peiǵ-/peiḱ- [: Sanskrit pinkte ‘paints,’ Latin pingō ‘paint,’ Sanskrit piṃśati ‘hews, carves; forms, fashions; adorns,’ Avestan paēs- ‘color, adorn,’ Persian nu-vēsad ‘write,’ Lithuanian piẽšti ‘paint, write,’ OCS pьsati ‘write,’ etc. (P:794-5; MA: 414)] (Meillet, 1914:18, VW:374). +See also probably pikār and possibly pikṣanma. +

+ + +
+

+pikaṃṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: -, -, pikaṃṣṣai//] +///pikaṃṣṣai rutsi preke (281a6). +

+ + +
+

+pikār* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘gesture’
+[-, -, pikār//-, -, pikāränta] +lekanma pikāränta (109b8), /// lyelykoṣ ce_u pikārsa wnolm=alyek ‘having seen another being with this gesture’ (606a3). +∎AB pikār looks to be a derivative of pik- ‘write, paint’ (so VW:374) though the semantic development is not obvious. +

+ + +
+

+pikul +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘year’
+[pikul, -, pikul//pik_ula ~ pikwala, -, pik_ula ~ pikwala] +ywārśkāññi pik_ulameṃ ‘[those of] middle years’ (2a5), śāmnaṃts śaul ṣai ṣkas tmane pik_ula ‘the life of men was six thousand years’ (3b1), wī pikla ñiś no tsaukwa cī ‘[for] two years I suckled thee’ (415a3), nāke pikulne ‘in the serpent year’ (G-Qa3.2) + -- (-)pikwalaññe ‘having [so-many] years’: ikäṃ-pikwalañe nesau ‘I am twenty years [old]’ (330b5), aiśamñesa kärsor star-ś mäkte Samantatir saṅkrām pikwalañe śka anās erkatteṣe-ñ ‘thou hast the knowledge how my monastery S. was for ye rs miserable and detestable’ (DAM.507-a2/3 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎TchA p_ukul/p_ukäl (plural puklā) and B pikul reflect a PTch *päkwäl (plural *päkwälā) but further connections are not as clear as they might be. VW (395-6), following the lead of Sieg (apud Schrader-Nehring, 1917-23:526), assumes that PTch *päkwäl is a verbal noun derived from *päk- ‘cook, ripen,’ q.v. In PIE terms *päkwäl would be *pek^wḷ. Semantically one might have a development *‘maturity (of plants)’ > *‘harvest’ > ‘year.’ Given the tendency, in Indo-European at least, of words derived from ‘go’ vel sim. to develop into ‘year’ (Buck, 1949: 1011-1012), one perhaps should not be too quick to reject an earlier suggestion of VW's (1962:192) wherein he connects the Tocharian word for ‘year’ with the PIE verbal root *b^heg^wh- ‘go fast, flee.’ +See also possibly päk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+pikṣanma* +(n.[pl.]) +‘± spots’ (?)
+[//-, -, pikṣanma] +särwāna sonopälle ... pikṣanma säṅkiṃ yoraiṃ po nakṣäṃ ‘the face [is] to be anointed ... spots [?], wrinkles [?], and pimples, it destroys [them] all’ (W-40b2/3). +∎If the meaning is correct, we surely have a derivative of some sort of pik- ‘write, paint.’ Might this word be the nominal derivative of a (causative) present *pik-s^'ä/_e-? +

+ + +
+

+piṅkte +(adj.) +‘fifth’
+[m: piṅkte, piṅ(k)cepi ~ piñcepi, piṅ(k)ce ~ piñce (~ piṅkceṃ)//] [f: piṅkca, -, -//] +śkäñce-piṅkce kauṃ ‘the l5th day’ (37a1), pi[ṅkte] = BHS pañcama (198a3), piṅkte meñe āra ‘the fifth month has finished’ (461a4). +∎TchA pänt and B piṅkte reflect PTch *päṅkte from PIE *penk^wto- [: Sanskrit pakthá-, Avestan puxδa-, Greek péptos, Latin quīntus, Old English fīfta, Lithuanian peñtas, OCS pętъ, etc. (P:808; MA:402)] (VW:360-1, Winter, 1991: 136-137). +See also piś and perhaps epiṅkte. +

+ + +
+

+picumaṇḍa +(n.) +‘Azadirachta indica A. Jus.’ = ‘Melia azadirachta Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[picumaṇḍa, -, -//] +(P-3a2). +∎From BHS picumanda-. +

+ + +
+

+piṭak* +(n.) +‘(canonical) collection of buddhist works’
+[//-, -, piṭakänta] +(605b3). +∎From BHS piṭaka-. +

+ + +
+

+pit +(n.) +‘gall’
+[pit, pittantse, pit//] +te keklyau[ṣo]rmeṃ Araṇemiñ lānte pit maiwāte-ne k[eṃ]tsa klāya ‘hearing this the gall of king A. shook [= he fainted] and he fell to the ground’ (85b4/5), pittantse ṣotruna ‘signs of bile [disease]’ (Y-3a2), pit = BHS pittam (Y-3b6). + -- pittaṣṣe* ‘prtng to gall, bile’ (497a7); +
+pit-maiwalñe ‘fainting’: = BHS mūrccha- (Y-3a2); +
+pit-tsamo* ‘gall-stone’: pit-tsamonta ruwāllona ‘the gall stones [are] to be pulled out’ (W-42a3). +∎From BHS pitta-. +

+ + +
+

+pitari +(n.) +‘Ipomea paniculata R. Br.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pitari, -, -//] +(W-39b2). +∎From BHS vidāri-. +

+ + +
+

+pīto +(nm.) +‘price, cost’
+[pīto, pītantse (?), pīto//-, -, pitaiṃ] +śaulänmaṣe pitosa ce p[e]rnerñe kraupatai ‘thou hast gathered this glory at the cost of lives’ (203b3/4), wastsitse pito wat ‘or the price of clothes’ (315b3), ṣaḍvarginta karyor pito misko ailñe yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvargikas were buying selling, exchanging, and inheriting for themselves’ (337a2). + -- pitaitstse ‘± having a price’ (?): (316al). +∎Borrowed from some Middle Iranian source, presumably pre-Khotanese *pīθa-, cf. attested Khotanese pīha- ‘price,’ and also Ossetic (Digoron) fedun ‘pay’, Bailey, 1967:196-7 (also VW:637 . The Iranian may ultimately be connected with Old High German feil ‘be for sale.’ Not with Greek peithō ‘persuasion’ (as earlier suggested by VW), nor from a PIE preform in *pi-dō- (Isebaert's suggestion, apud Thomas, 1985b:135), comparing Messapic pido ‘dedit, donavit.’ +

+ + +
+

+pitke* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘spittle’
+[-, -, pitke//] +kete āñme tākaṃ tweri ruwyenträ partāktaññe pitkesa ṣarne laikanalle ‘to whomever is the wish: may doors open! [his] hands [are] to be washed with camel spittle’ (M-3b1), śāmñe pitke /// eśane epiṅkte pärwāne wat no lupṣale ‘human spittle [is] to be smeared between the eyes or on the brows’ (M-3b4/5). +∎This looks to be a nomen actionis from a verb *pitk- ‘spit’ related most nearly to Germanic *spit- seen in OE spittan (Adams, 1986). Some-what more distantly related are a host of other words in Indo-European descended from *spyeu-: Sanskrit ṣṭhīvati ‘spits,’ Greek ptūō ‘spit,’ Latin spuō ‘id.,’ Gothic speiwan ‘id.,’ Lithuanian spiáuti ‘id.,’ etc. (P:999-1000; MA:538). Semantically less attractive is Isebaert's suggestion (apud VW, 1987:231) that pitke is a derivative of pätk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pittsau* +(n.) +‘± filament, eyelash; sp. of plant’ [?]; ‘least little thing’ (?)
+[-, pittsauntse, pittsau] +[śiri]ṣäṣṣe[p]i pitt[s]aunt[s]e /// = BHS śirīṣa-pakṣman- ‘of the filament of the Acacia Sirissa’ (H-149.47a6 [Couvreur, 1966:162]). + -- pittsauṣṣe ‘prtng to pittsau’: pittsauṣṣe śäktāly[e] ra (153b1); +
+pittsau-menāk ‘?’: walo ṣlentso śpālmeṃ su pi[tt]s[au] menāk - - - plyuwi teteka (100b1). +∎Etymology unknown. For the meaning, see Couvreur's discussion (1966:162). +

+ + +
+

+Pidär-Mani +(n.) +‘father Mani’ (PN)
+[in Manichean script] pydrm/// [= pidär-m[ani]] (Winter/Gabain:12). +

+ + +
+

+pin- +(vt.) +‘± blow’ (or possibly ‘introduce’)
+Ps. Xa /pinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. pinaṣṣälle] +meleṃne pinaṣle ‘it [is] to be blown in the nose’ (Y-2a4). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, TchB pin- ‘blow’ must be related to TchA piw- ‘id.’ (cf. the latter's two attestations: A-124b2 wär wipäṣṣäṃ want piwāṣäṃ ‘water wets it and wind blows it’ and A-124b5 wäryo wantyo wipo pāpeyu ‘wet by water, blown by wind’). PTch *pi- and its various extensions must be related to otherwise isolated Latin spīrāre ‘blow, breathe’ (Adams, 1982:134). +

+ + +
+

+pintwāt +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘alms’
+[pintwāt, -, pintwāt//] +pintwāt śaitsisa ‘alms to live by’ (32b8), tsonkaik pātrai wastsi kamāte Śrāvastine piṃtwat yopsa ‘at dawn he gathered up [his] begging-bowl and clothes and entered Ś. to beg’ (H-149.X.4a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎From BHS piṇḍapāta-. +

+ + +
+

+pippāl +(n.) +‘Piper longum Linn.’
+[pippāl, -, pippāl//pippālänta, -, -] +pip[p]ā[l] emalye varsa [sic] yoka[le] ‘pepper with warm water [is] to be drunk’ (499a4). + -- pippāläṣṣe* ‘prtng to pepper’ (497a8) +∎From BHS pippalī-. +

+ + +
+

+pippalimula +(n.) +‘root of Piper longum Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pippalimula, -, -//] +(P-3a6). +∎From BHS pippalimūla-. +

+ + +
+

+pīya ̇rä +‘?’
+/// ot no pälskā sū mänt pīya ̇rä/// (339a2). +

+ + +
+

+pir* +(n.) +‘chair’
+[-, -, pir//] +se ṣamāne pir mañcāk yamasträ ‘whatever monk makes for himself a stool or bed’ (H-149.X.3b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]). +∎From BHS pīṭha-. +

+ + +
+

+pirko* +(n.) +‘(sun-)rise’
+[-, -, pirko//] +kälymiṃ läkāṣyeṃ cey kom-pirkomeṃ ipprerne ka ṣ lyakār-ne (108b5), [pirko]meṃ = BHS abhyudayāl (H-ADD.149.79b6 [Couvreur, 1966:178]). +∎A nomen actionis from pärk-², q.v. For the formation, compare pilko from ¹pälk-. Compare also TchA opärkā ‘at sunrise.’ +

+ + +
+

+pilamātti ~ pilamāddhyi +(n.) +‘center of the fruit of the Aegle marmelos Corr.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pilamātti ~ pilamāddhyi, -, -//] +(W-7a5, P-3a6). +∎From BHS bilva-madhya-. +

+ + +
+

+pīle* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘wound’
+[-, pilentse, pīle//-, -, pilenta] +śwāṃ-ne yṅkauṃ-kästwer yelyi pilenta ‘day and night the worms eat at his wounds’ (33a8/b1), pile[n]e sāṃ[tk]e ... pilentse pkelñe ‘a remedy for the wound ... curing of the wound’ (PK-NS-53b6 [Pinault, 1988:101]). + -- pilentatstse* ‘having wounds, wounded’ (H-149.14a3) +∎Etymology unclear. TchA päl and B pīle reflect PTch *päle but extra-Tocharian cognates, if any, are uncertain. VW (356) relates this word to Greek ápelos (nt.) ‘wound’ under the assumption that the a- in Greek is an intensive prefix (so also MA:650). Frisk (1960:120), on the other hand would like to connect ápelos with pélas ‘skin, hide’ which would be reasonable enough if the a- reflects PIE *h₁ṇ ‘in.’ If so, of course, the possibility of a connection with pīle disappears. Normier (1980:253) gives *apélos for both Greek and Tocharian but does not discuss it further. Couvreur (1947:351) suggests a connection with Sanskrit bíla- (nt.) ‘whole, cavity, pit.’ The Armenian verb pelem ‘hollows out, digs’ might also be brought in here. Mayrhofer (1960:432) does not look with favor on Couvreur's suggestion, though formally impeccable and semantically good, because he sees, with some probability, the Sanskrit word as a borrowing from some Dravidian source. However, the Tocharo-Armenian connection remains possible. +

+ + +
+

+pilke* +(n.) +‘copper’
+[-, -, pilke//] +pilke = BHS tāmraṃ (529b4). + -- pilkeṣṣe ‘prtng to copper’: pilkeṣṣe kentse ‘verdigris’ (H:130). +∎Presumably a derivative of ³pälk- ‘burn,’ as the ‘[stuff that looks like] burning; shining, brilliant.’ +

+ + +
+

+pilko +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘insight, view; look, glance’
+[pilko, pilkontse, pilko//-, -, pilkonta] +eroṣ pilko aṅkaiṃ ṣeyeṃ ‘they have evoked false insight’ (15a5=17a6), pilko[s=ā]ñmālaṣkeṃ lkāṣṣän-me ‘he looks at them with a tender look’ (88a6), pärmankä[c]ce pilkosa ‘with hopeful glance’ (99b4), pilkont[a] = BHS dṛṣṭi- (251al), akwatse pilko olyapotse = BHS atitīkṣṇacakṣuṣaḥ (545al). + -- pilkoṣṣe ‘prtng to insight’ (282a3); +
+pilkontaṣṣe ‘prtng to insights’ (29b5); +
+ -pilkotstse ‘having [such-and-such] a view or insight’: [yo]lo-pilkoccepi = BHS durdṛṣṭeḥ (U-22b1). +∎Tch B pilko, like its A cognate pälk, is a nomen actionis from pälk-¹, q.v. For the formation one might compare pirko ‘sunrise’ from ²pärk- ‘rise.’ +

+ + +
+

+pilkwer* +(n.) +‘± boil, carbuncle’ (?)
+[-, -, pilkwer//] +/// malkwersa trīwäṣällya ṣpakīye pilkwersa riṅkatsi ‘with milk [is] to be mixed; a poultice over the boil [is] to be placed’ (W-39b1). +∎If the meaning has been correctly identified, a derivative of pälk-³, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pilta +(nnt.) +‘leaf, petal’
+[pilta, -, pilta/piltāṣ -, -/piltāsa, -, piltāsa] +palāśäṣṣe piltasa = BHS palāśapatreṇa (308b5), ts[e]n-uppālṣi piltāṣ ra eśne ‘eyes like the petals of blue lotus’ (575a3). +∎TchA pält and B pilta reflect PTch *pältā (as if) from PIE *b^hlh₁t-os- (K. T. Schmidt, 1982:363). The closest relatives, are to be seen in Germanic, e.g. Old English bläd ‘leaf, blade,’ OHG blat ‘id.’ (as if) from PIE *b^hlh₁tó- (nt.) (the s-stem plural in New High German, Blätter, is analogical). So to be corrected MA:348. Somewhat more distantly we have OHG blāt ‘flower’ (< *b^hleh₁tó-), Old Irish blāth ‘id.’ (< *b^hloh₁to-), or Old Latin flōs ‘id.’ (P:122). Cf. Petersen, 1939:78, VW, 1939:100, 1976:358, though details differ. The nominative/accusative singular *pältā reflects directly a neuter s-stem "collective" *b^hlh₁tōs (plural *b^hlh₁toseh_a)--compare the r-stem "collectives" seen in pūwar ‘fire’ and yasar ‘blood.’ A similar s-stem collective is seen in luwo ‘animal’ though here the nominative luwo is secondarily distinguished from the regular accusative luwa. +

+ + +
+

+pils- +(vt.) +‘± stretch, strain [the ears]’
+PP /pepilso-/ +klautsne=naiśai pepīltsoṣ śau[l]mpa mā spänteträ ‘[those who have] listened attentively, do not trust in life!’ (3b4/5). +∎If correctly identified semantically, TchB pils- may reflect a PTch *päls- from PIE *pels- ‘quiver, tremble’ otherwise seen only in Slavic [: OCS plachъ ‘quivering, nervous, anxious’ (< *polso-), plašiti ‘be fearful’ (P:801)]. In Slavic we have a semantic development *‘quiver’ > ‘quiver with fear’ while in Tocharian we see *‘quiver’ > ‘quiver with excitement’ vel sim. +See also klausa-pilṣi. +

+ + +
+

+pilycalñe +See pälk-³. +

+ + +
+

+piṣitakamantha +(n.) +‘beverage of grain mixed with liquid’ (a medical ingredient)
+[piṣitakamantha, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS *piśītakmantha- (Filliozat; not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+piś +(number) +‘five’
+[piś, piśaṃts, piś] +[indri]ntaṃts ... piśantso ‘of the five sense organs’ (5b6), piś = BHS pañca (16a8), piś kṣuṃntsa ñuñce meṃne ‘in the fifth regnal period in the ninth month’ (LP-11a2), piś eṅkalñecci āntsi = BHS pañcopādānaskandhā (PK-NS-53a2 [Pinault, 1988:100]). + -- piś-āntseṣṣe* ‘prtng to the five elements’ (168.e); +
+piś-cmelaṣṣe ‘prtng to the five births’: piś-cmelṣana läklenta ‘the sufferings of [those] of the five births’ (12b4); +
+piś-känte ‘500’; +
+piś-yältse ~ piś-(y)iltse ‘5,000’ (507b2); +
+piś-meñantse-ne ‘on the fifth of the month’ (433a20); +
+piś-yäkne(sa) ‘fivefold’ (11b7) +∎TchA päñ and B piś reflect PTch *päñś with differing reductions of the final consonant cluster. PTch *päñś is itself from PIE pénk^we [: Sanskrit pañca, Armenian hing, Greek pénte, Latin quīnque, Gothic fimf, Old English fīf, Lithuanian penkì, etc. (P:808; MA:401)] (Smith, 1910:14, VW: 360-1, Winter, 1991:107-108). +See also piṅkte and piśāka. +

+ + +
+

+piśāka +(number) +‘fifty’; (n.) ‘a group of fifty’
+[piśāka, -, piśāka//-, -, piśakānta] +piśakānta piśāka tīrttheṃ ypärwe tsyālpatai ‘thou hast freed earlier fifty fifties [of] tīrthas’ (252b4), p_iśākka ṣe cakanma ‘fifty-one cāks’ (461a3). +∎A derivative of piś ‘five,’ q.v. In particular we have a reflex of PIE *penk^wēḱomt (for the final -ka, see the discussion at taryāka) much as in Greek pentēkonta and Sanskrit pañcāśat-. The corresponding TchA pñāk has been rebuilt on the basis of A päñ ‘five’ (Winter, 1991:119-120). +See also piś and piśākar. +

+ + +
+

+piśākar +(distributive numeral) +‘by 50's’
+känte-p_iśākar ‘by 150's’ (108a5). +∎A derivative of piśāka. +

+ + +
+

+piśpik* +(n.) +‘(woman's) breast’ or ‘nipple’ (?)
+[-, -, piśpik/-, -, piśikne/] +klaiñe teki piśpi[kne]sa tsäṅkau tākaṃ ‘[if] a female disease has arisen on the breasts/nipples’ (Y-1al/2), indrine araṃśne piśpikne lakle wikäṣṣäṃ ‘it destroys pain in the penis, heart, and breast/ nipple’ [= BHS stana-] (Y-1a6). +∎Etymology unclear. It is possible that we have here a reduplicated formation, i.e. a putative PIE *peikipeiki-, related to such words as Latin spīca/spīcus ‘ear of grain,’ Old English spīc ‘pointed piece of land’ (cited from P.; not in Clark Hall or Bosworth, Toller, Campbell), spāca ‘spoke, ray,’ Old Norse spīkr ‘nail’ (> New English spike) (P:981)] (VW:375, though he starts from *peispeik-). If so, this word would be related to ṣpikīye, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pīsäl +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘chaff, husk’
+[pisäl, -, pisäl//] +pi[säl] = BHS tuṣa- (174b2), atiyai-pisäl-melte-oraṣṣe puwar ‘a fire of grass, chaff, dung, or wood’ (194b1). +∎Etymology unclear. TchA psäl (attested in the phrase sne psäl ‘husked’) and B pisäl reflect PTch *päsäl perhaps (as if) from a PIE *pesḷ, a nomen actionis from *pes- ‘blow’ seen otherwise in Germanic and Balto-Slavic [: OHG fesa ‘chaff,’ faso ‘thread, fringe,’ OCS pachati ‘ventilāre, agitāre,’ etc. (P:823-4)] and possibly in TchB pās- ‘whisper’ (VW:367, but probably not with VW related to a TchA *päs- which from its scanty attestations would appear to mean ‘pour’ or ‘sprinkle’ [with its object ‘water’] and may be a phonetic variant of *pärs- ‘id.’). Alternatively one might prefer to connect this word with PIE *b^hus- ‘chaff’ seen in (popular) Sanskrit busa- (nt.) (< *b^husa-; see Burrow's discussion, 1976:38) and Latin furfur ‘id.’ (< *b^hus-b^hus-). +

+ + +
+

+pissau +(n.) +‘anise’ [Anethum sowa Kurz. = Peucedanum graveolens Linn.]
+[pissau, -, -//] +ypiya yäkṣiye pissau oṅkarño päkṣalya ‘barley flour, anise, porridge, [it is] to be cooked’ (P-1a6), pissau = BHS puṣpāhvā- (Y-2b5). + -- pissauṣṣe ‘prtng to anise’ (P-1a2); +
+pissautstse ‘having anise’ (497a7) +∎Etymology unkown. +

+ + +
+

+pits* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, pitsantse, -//] +pitsantse ṣarmtsa nraiṣṣe lakle wat warpoymar (220b5). +‣It is possible that this word might be a variant of either pittsau or patsa, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+Puñakāme +(n.) +‘Puṇyakāma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Puñakāme, -, -//] +(G-Qm3, G-Qm7). +

+ + +
+

+Puñarakṣite +(n.) +‘Puṇyarakṣita’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Puñarakṣite, -, -//] +(G-Su29). +

+ + +
+

+Puñicaṃndre +(n.) +‘Puṇyacandra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Puñicaṃndre, -, -//] +(G-Su34.1). +

+ + +
+

+Puñaiyśe +(n.) +‘Puṇyayaśa’ (PN in graffito)
+[Puñaiyśe, -, -//] +(G-Su26). +

+ + +
+

+Puṇyamitre +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Puṇyamitra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Puṇyamitre, -, -//] +(G-Su9, G-Su23). +

+ + +
+

+Puṇyarakīte +See Puñarakṣite. +

+ + +
+

+Puṇyasene +(n.) +‘Puṇyasena’ (PN in graffito)
+[Puṇyasene, -, -//] +(G-Qm2). +

+ + +
+

+Putakupte +(n.) +‘Buddhagupta’ (PN)
+[Putakupte, -, -//] +(491b2). +

+ + +
+

+Putatatte* +(n.) +‘Buddhadatta’ (PN)
+[-, -, Putatatteṃ//] +(LP-22a2). +

+ + +
+

+putanakeśi +(n.) +‘nard’ [Nardostachys jatamansi DC] (a medical ingredient)
+[putanakeśi, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS pūtanākeśī-. +

+ + +
+

+pūtane* +(n.) +a kind of demon
+[//-, -, pūtaneṃ] +(301a3). +∎From BHS pūtana-. +

+ + +
+

+putanti * +(n.) +‘place of the one most senior in rank’
+[-, -, putanti//] +tumeṃ putantimeṃ waiptār aśarintaṃts paiyne wināṣṣälle ... eṃṣke nawanti täṅtsi ‘then he [is] to honor the feet of the ācāryas separately, from the most senior to the newest’ (KVāc-20a4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1985: 760]). +∎Presumably from a BHS *buddhānta- (from buddha-; buddhānta- is not recorded in this sense in M-W or Edgerton); morphologically parallel to nawanti. +

+ + +
+

+Putere* +(n.) +‘Putera’ (PN?)
+[-, -, Putereṃ//] +[snai erka]tñe we[ñ]i Putereṃ[śc] ‘without anger should one speak to Putera’ (35b7). +

+ + +
+

+putk- +(vt.) +G/K ‘divide, share, separate’
+G Ps. VII /puttäṅk-/ [A // -, -, puttaṅkeṃ; MP -, -, puttaṅktär//; Ger. puttaṅkälle]; Ko. V /pāuktā- ~ putkā-/ [A pautkau, -, -//]; PP /putko-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /putkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. putkäṣṣälle]; PP /pepputku-/. +/// lwāsane tänmaskentär se no kartse yolo mā puttaṅkeṃ /// (575b3/4), ñ_uwār pake[nta] puttaṅktär ‘it is divided [into] parts by nines’ [?] (591a4); /// waiptār bhavāṅkänta pautkau ‘I will divide apart the members of existence’ [?] (149b2); täryā aiśamñe tākoy kwri ṣamāne tne putkowä wikṣeñca yarkesa ‘if a monk would have three-fold wisdom, [but is] separated [therefrom], keeping himself away out of pride’ (31a6). + -- putkalñe ‘separation’: tusāksa aikneṣäñ yolaina yāmornta nāktsy aiśaumyepi putkalñe tumeṃ yāmtsi ‘thus it [is] the duty of the wiseman to reprove his own evil deeds and to make a separation therefrom’ (K-3b3). +∎AB putk- reflect PTch *putk- (as if) from PIE *put-sḱe/o- [: Latin putāre ‘prune’ which Melchert (1977:123) at least would analyze as put-eh_a-] (Jacobsohn, 1934:212, MA:144; cf. VW (397) with differing details). +See also pautke, pauśye and paucciṃ. +

+ + +
+

+putt- +See pätt-. +

+ + +
+

+Puttatrāte +(n.) +‘Buddhatrāta’ (PN in graffito)
+[Puttatrāte, -, -//] +(G-Su25.c). +

+ + +
+

+Puttamitre +(n.) +‘Buddhamitra’ (PN)
+[Puttamitre, -, -//] +(LP-1b3, G-Su18). +

+ + +
+

+Puttarakṣīte +(n.) +‘Buddharakṣita’ (PN in grafitto)
+[Puttarakṣīte, -, -//] +(G-Qa2). +

+ + +
+

+Puttasene +(n.) +‘Buddhasena’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Puttasene, Puttasenentse, -//] +(DAM.507-a5 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +

+ + +
+

+puttemāñce +(adj.?) +‘?’
+/// puttemāñce ya[p] /// (474al). +

+ + +
+

+Putteyāne* +(n.) +‘Putteyāne’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Putteyānentse, -//] +(460a2). +

+ + +
+

+Puttewatte +(n.) +‘Puttewatte’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Puttewatte, -, -//] +(KLOST.37, 22 [Couvreur, 1954c:86]). +

+ + +
+

+Puttawarme +(n.) +‘Buddhavarma’ (PN)
+[Puttewarme, -, -//] +(Otani 19.1.2 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+pudgalyik +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘personal’
+śtwer meñtsa postaññeṣ [sic!] ṣamānentse pudgalyik kāko wärpanalle ‘four months is the latest a monk [is] to enjoy a personal invitation’ (H-149.X.3a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]). +∎From BHS pudgalika-. +

+ + +
+

+pūdñäkte +(n.[msg.]) +‘buddha’ [the poetic equivalent of pañäkte]
+[pūdñäkte, pūdñäktentse, pūdñäkte (voc. pūdñäkta)//pūdñäkti, pūdñäkteṃts, pūdñäkteṃ] +ñäkteṃts ñakte pūdñäkte lac lenameṃ ‘the god of gods, the Buddha emerged from [his] cell’ (5b3), māka pudñäkti tsaṅkaṃ śaiṣṣene ‘many buddhas will arise in the world’ (17a8), pudñäktentse kektseṃne lkāṣyeṃ cai yetweṃ lakṣānta ‘they saw on the Buddha's body adorn-ments and marks of excellence’ (30b1), pūdñäktentse = BHS buddhasya (H-150.106a2 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:490]). + -- pūdñäktäññe ‘prtng to the buddha’; +
+pūdñäktäññeṣṣe ‘id.’ (71a2); +
+pūdñäkteṣṣe ‘id.’ (135a5/6). +∎A compound of pūd- (< BHS buddha-) + ñakte ‘god’. +See also the prose equivalent, pañäkte. +

+ + +
+

+punarnap +(n.) +‘hogweed’ [Boerhavia diffusa Linn.] (a medical ingredient)
+[punarnap, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS punarnavā-. +See also wärścik and eśpeṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+Punarwasu* +(n.) +‘fifth (or seventh) lunar mansion’
+[-, -, Punarwasu//] +Punarwasune päknāträ ekweṃ [sic] klaiṃ wat no ekalmi yāmtsi ‘[if] in P. one intends to make subject a man or woman’ (M-1b7). +∎From BHS Punarvasu-. +

+ + +
+

+pup +See päp. +

+ + +
+

+Pūrike +(n.) +‘Pūrika’ (PN)
+[Pūrike, -, -//] +(59b2). +

+ + +
+

+Purohite +(n.) +‘Purohita’ (PN)
+[Purohite, -, Purohiteṃ//] +(86b6). +

+ + +
+

+pūrṇakoṣäññe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: pūrṇakoṣäññe, -, -//] +(W-22a5). +∎Derived from an unattested *pūrṇakoṣ, a borrowing from BHS pūrṇakoṣā- ‘cake made from barley flour’ (Filliozat) or the name of a plant (M-W). +

+ + +
+

+Purṇāy +(n.) +‘Purṇāya’ (PN)
+[Purṇāy, -, -//] +(Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+Purtaś* +(n.) +‘Purtaś’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, -, Purtaś//] +(490b-I-5; see discussion of this passage s.v. nocot). +

+ + +
+

+Purnakke* +(n.) +‘Purnakke’ (PN)
+[-, Purnakki, -//] +(Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+Purnakṣeme +(n.) +‘Purnakṣema’ (PN)
+[Purnakṣeme, -, -//] +(Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+pūrnnikadṛṣṭānt +(n.) +‘?’
+[pūrnnikadṛṣṭānt, -,-//] +///mālne pūrnnikadṛṣṭānt ṣkäs[t]e (342a2). +

+ + +
+

+pūrvayok* +(n.) +‘former existence’
+[-, -, pūrvayok//] +(349b2). +∎From BHS pūrvayoga-. +

+ + +
+

+pūrvakālāntarābhaw* +(n.) +‘former existence’
+[/pūrvakālāntarābhawäñc, -, -/] +(175b2). +∎From BHS *pūrvakā-antarābhava- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+pūrvāntik +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘past [of time]’
+pūrvāntik nauṣuwe[nt preke] ‘the earlier time of the past’ (151a2). +∎From BHS pūrvānika-. +

+ + +
+

+Purvvabhadravat* +(n.) +the designation of a constellation
+[-, -, Purvvadbhadravat//] +(M-2a5) +∎From BHS Pūrva-bhādrapadā-. +

+ + +
+

+Purvvaṣät* +(n.) +the designation of a constellation
+[-, -, Purvvaṣät//] +(M-2a3). +∎From BHS Pūrvāṣāḍha-. +

+ + +
+

+pūwar +(nnt.) +(a) ‘fire’; (b) ‘digestion’
+[pūwar, pwārntse, pūwar/-, -, pwāri/-, -, pwāra] +(a) pūwar salpäṃ palskone pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt ‘the fire blazes in [his]spirit; his whole body burns like a firebrand’ (8a5), [nrai]ṣṣana kesasta pwāra ‘thou hast extinguished the fires of hell’ (243b3), pūwar tr[e]m[eṃ]ṣṣe sälpī-n=enenmeṃ ‘may this angry fire blaze within him!’ (350a2), pūwarsa = BHS tejasā (PK-NS-107b1 [Thomas, 1976b: 106]), puwar = BHS agnim (U-13b7), wlaśkeṃ pūwarsa päkṣalle ‘[it is] to be cooked over a gentle fire’ (W-33b3); +
+(b) kekesoṣepi pwārntse ‘for the extinguished digestion’ (497a5). + -- pwārṣṣe (a) ‘prtng to fire, fiery’; (b) ‘prtng to digestion’: (a) pwārṣṣe lakle nraiyn=empely[e] ‘the pain of fire in the terrible hell’ (220b1); (b) pwā[rṣṣepi] läklentse sāṃtke ‘the remedy for suffering of digestion’ (497a6); +
+pwār-yok* ‘± fire-like’: (566b8). +∎TchA por and B puwar probably both reflect a PTch *puwār with a change of pre-A *pwā- to po-. However, such a change lacks any direct parallels and it may be necessary to assume that A por comes from a PTch and PIE preform somewhat different than does B puwar (e.g., it may be from a PIE *peh₂wṛ). Hittite pahhur ‘fire’ and pahhwar ‘id.’ (gen. pahhwenas for both) reflect a PIE *peh₂wṛ (nt.) and its "collective" counterpart *peh₂wōr (nt.) (cf. *h₁esh₂ṛ [> Greek éar ‘blood’] and *h₁esh₂ōr [> TchB yasar] ‘blood’). The collective *peh₂wōr should have had as its weak stem *ph₂un- or, with generalization of *-r-, *ph₂ur- or again, with the addition of laryngeal metathesis, *puh₂r-. The latter form seems to have been the basis for a pre-Tocharian nominative/accusative *puh₂ōr or *p(e)uh₂ōr, either of which would have given regularly PTch *puwār. (If the former is the preform one might compare especially Gothic fōn [< *pwōn] (cf. the gen. sg. funins reflecting a weak stem *p(h₂)un-) and Old Prussian panno [< *pwon-u-].) +
+Already in late Indo-European there would appear to have been generalized a new non-collective *p(h₂)ūr from the weak stem *p(h₂)ur- with rule-governed lengthening in monosyllabic nominative/accusatives. The resultant paradigm *pūr/pur- is seen most clearly in Greek pûr/purós and in Umbrian nom. pir (< *pūr), acc. purom-e ‘in the fire.’ Both Germanic (Old Norse fūrr [m.]) and Slavic (Proto-Slavic *pūrya- [m.] ‘glowing ashes’) also reflect *pūr-. Old English fȳr and early OHG fuir (bisyllabic) appears to result, by a more complex restructuring, from a putative late PIE *puwer (with the *e of the final syllable introduced only after the laryngeal had been lost) while later continental West Germanic fiur would appear to be (as if) from *peuri (P:828; MA:202). Cf. Sieg and Siegling (1908:927) and VW(382-3), though the details here are almost completely different. For explanations closer to this one, see Schindler (1967[l968]:242), Normier (1980:257), Hilmarsson (1986:215, fn. 6), and also Lindeman (1978:301-302). +

+ + +
+

+puwe* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘spoke’
+[//pwenta, -, -] +ṣem kautāte koklentse waiptār pwenta käskānte ‘the axle of the wagon broke and the spokes were scattered asunder’ (5a2), kauc ette kluttaṅkentär toṃ pwenta cākr ente spārtaṃ ‘up [to] down change the spokes if a wheel turns’ (30b6). +∎TchB puwe reflects a putative PIE *pewes- (nt.) whose only known relative is the otherwise isolated Sanskrit paví- (m.) ‘wheel-band, metallic point of spear or arrow’ (Couvreur, 1950:130, VW:397). +

+ + +
+

+puṣ* +(n.) +‘albugo’ (a particular disease of the eye)
+[-, -, puṣ//] +(W-15a5). +∎From BHS puṣpa-. +

+ + +
+

+puṣṇāvatiṃ* +(n.) +a meter [probably 14/11/11/11 syllables, rhythm a: 7/7, b-d: 5/6]
+[-, -, puṣṇāvatiṃ//] +(108a8, 419b4). +

+ + +
+

+Puṣnäkṣātär* +(n.) +‘the sixth (or eighth) lunar asterism’
+[-, -, Puṣnäkṣtär//] +(M-1b7). +∎From BHS puṣya- + nakṣatara-. +

+ + +
+

+Puṣpavārg* +(n.) +‘Puṣpavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Puṣpavārg//] +(S-5a2). +

+ + +
+

+pṛśnaparṇi +(n.) +‘Uraria lagopoides DC’ [aka ‘Henionitis cordifolia’] (a medical ingredient)
+[pṛśnaparṇi, -, //] +(500a6, P-1a4). +∎From BHS pṛśnaparṇi-. +

+ + +
+

+pekwe* +(n.[m/f.pl.]) +‘ring’
+[//-, -, pekweṃ] +[pe]kweṃ prāriññan[a] ‘finger rings’ (116a4). + -- pekwetstse* ‘± having a ring’: p[e]kw[etsana ṣäp ṣar po]kaine śänmäṣlye (284b1/3). +∎Probably (with VW:370-371, though details differ) we should see here a derivative of a PIE *peḱ- ‘decorate’ [: Old Norse fāga ‘purify, ornament, decorate’ (< *pēḱ-), Lithuanian puõšti ‘decorate, adorn, embellish,’ puošmuõ ‘ornament, decoration’ (< *pōḱ-) (other cognates, semantically more distant, P:796-797)]. The Tocharian form may reflect a putative PIE *pēḱwo- or *poḱwo-. +

+ + +
+

+peṅke* +(nm.) +‘broom(-stick)’ (?)
+[//-, -, peṅkeṃ] +caṇḍāli waikiññeṃ peṅkeṃ[m]pa tasemane mcuṣkantaṃts ckāckane ersaṅk śa/// ‘the untouchables comparing [their] broom-sticks [?] with the legs of the princes...’ (589b5). +‣The comparison in which peṅke is attested would seem to demand that peṅke refer to some long, skinny object. Since brooms and sticks are traditional accoutrements of untouchables (caṇḍala-), it seems possible that the long, skinny object might be a broom-stick. +∎Etymology uncertain. If the meaning is ‘stick’ we might see in this word a reflex of PIE *b^hongó- ‘something which breaks, destroys’ [: Sanskrit bhangá- ‘breakage; wave’ and Lithuanian bañgas ‘downpour’]. +

+ + +
+

+peñiyo +(nf.) +‘splendor’
+[peñiyo, -, peñiyai//] +po krentaunasa īte tatākau snätkū perne peñäyai[sa] /// ‘being full of all virtues, suffused with dignity and splendor’ (237a3), snai peñyai alyaik ṣpä wnolmi ‘and with-out splendor [are] the other creatures’ (K-8b1). + -- peñiyatstse* ‘splendid’: wastsy āstren ausu peñyacce ‘dressed in clean, splendid clothes’ (TEB-59-26). +∎TchA pañi and B peñīyo reflect PTch *peñiyo (as if) from a PIE *pond(i)yeh_a-, a derivative of *(s)pend- ‘shine, glitter,’ otherwise only seen in Baltic [: Lithuanian spindėti ‘shine, glitter, twinkle,’ spįsti ‘begin to shine,’ spindà ‘splendor,’ spindùs ‘shining, lustrous,’ Latvian spuožs ‘shining, luminous’ (< *spandus)] (VW, 1941:164-5, 1976:346-347). +

+ + +
+

+peti +(n.) +‘± flattery’ [found only in conjunction with yarke]
+[peti, -, peti] +ce cmelṣe yarke petisa triketär ramt aknātsa onwaññe śaul paktär ‘just as the fool is tricked by honor and flattery in this birth, he trusts [in] immortal life’ (31b3), yarke peti källauṣṣana śänmānma[sa] śanmästär ‘you have let yourselves be bound by the bonds of longing for honor and flattery’ (33a8). +∎Etymology unclear. It has long been assumed that peti is an Iranian loanword reflecting, as does Armenian patiw, an Iranian form like that seen in (Buddhist) Sogdian ptβyw (so VW:637, based on an early [1943] suggestion of Pedersen's). However, Isebaert (1979[81]:366-367) points out that the older (Manichean) Sogdian form is ptfryy which makes the Sogdian (and Armenian) forms less likely cognate. Isebaert himself suggests we have a borrowing from some Middle Indic source *peti-, the descendant of Sanskrit upeti- ‘approach’ where the semantic development might be ‘approach’ > *‘approach to render honor.’ +

+ + +
+

+petwe* +(n.) +‘bank [of a body of water]; high ground, mainland’
+[-, -, petwe//petwi, -, -] +kaumaintse petwesa ‘on the bank of the pool’ (623b6), [pa]ñäkte nervāṃ kärsau kaltär petwesa ‘the Buddha, knowing nirvana stands up on firm ground’ [petwesa = BHS sthale] (PK-NS-107a3 [Thomas, 1976b:105]). +∎A derivative of pätw- (literally ‘that which is climbed up’). There is no need (with VW:372-373) to see in this word an independent derivative of PIE *pet- ‘extend.’ +

+ + +
+

+peparṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Nardostachys jatamansi DC’
+[f: peparṣṣa, -, -//] +‣For the identification, see Maue, 1990. +

+ + +
+

+Peyālavārg* +(n.) +‘Peyālavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Peyālavārg//] +(S-b1a). +

+ + +
+

+perāk +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘faithful, trusting’
+[wāṣ]moṃts mā-perāk ‘having no trust in friends’ (14a1), śraddhauñe k_use ste perāk yāmṣäṃ alyekepi santāṃne ‘what is faith? it causes one who trusts another in the birth-cycle’ (23a5). +‣K. T. Schmidt (1984:153) assumes a meaning ‘reliable, trustworthy’ rather than ‘believing.’ + -- perākäññe ‘faith, trust’: takarṣkñe no ṣarm okone perākñe tanmṣäṃ ‘faith, however, engenders trust in cause and effect’ (23a5), mā keta[ra pe]rākäññesa mā alyektsa aśalle = BHS apara-pratyayo nanyaneya (541a2); +
+perākäññetstse* ‘faithful or believing person’: per[ākä]ññeccempa = BHS śrāddhebhiḥ (307b8); +
+perāktse ‘trusting, having faith’ (289a3). +∎AB perāk reflect a borrowing from (Buddhist) Sogdian pyr’k ‘believing’ (Lévi, 1933:35, VW:637). +

+ + +
+

+perās +‘?’
+///rtsa perāsä (W-33a2). +

+ + +
+

+peri +(a) (n.[m.sg.]); (b) (adj.) +(a) ‘debt’; (b) ‘to be paid, owing’ [peri nes- ‘to owe’ (with accusative of thing owed and probably genitive of person owed)]
+[peri, -, peri//] +(a) [śre]ṣṭhimeṃ peri yāmmar [peri = Uighur birim] (375a5), /// takāsta [p]e[r]is[a] te [w]e[ñ]āsta kās [lege: kos] tañ peri mā āyu ‘thou wert in debt; thou didst say: as long as I cannot give thee [thy] debt’ (495a2), peri lyipär = BHS ṛṇaśeṣaṃ (H-ADD.149.62a5 [Couvreur, 1966: 165]); +
+(b) ce [= k_uce] peri nesem tu päs aiskem-ne ‘what we are owing, that we [will] give back to him’ (DAM.507-a9 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), Sankatepe ysāre peri towä 5 ‘S [is] owing grain, 5 tau’ (491b-II-5). +∎Toch B peri ‘debt’ and A pare ‘id.’ reflect a putative PTch *peräi. It has been suggested both that this word is inherited in Tocharian (Schneider [1939]) and that it is a borrowing from some Iranian language (Meillet, 1916:159, Lane, 1938, VW, 1976:636-7]). Possible Iranian sources include Avestan pāra ‘debt’, Khotanese pāra- ‘debt’, pera- (< *pārya-) ‘what is to be paid, debt’, pīra- (< *parya-) ‘what is to be paid, debt’, Tumshuqese para- ‘debt’, Sogdian p’r ‘debt’ (cf. also Sogdian pwrč ‘debt’, Afghan pōr ‘debt’). Of these the one which matches the putative Proto-Tocharian form best is the pre-Khotanese *parya-. With regular loss of Iranian final *-a, the change of other *-a-'s to *-e-, and the epenthesis of *-ä- in the difficult resultant final cluster *-ry, *peräi would be the expected Proto-Tocharian outcome of *parya-. +

+ + +
+

+-pere +(n.) +‘± stalk’
+See s.v. akwam-pere. +

+ + +
+

+peret +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘ax’
+[peret, -, peret//] +eṅwentse tane tetemoṣepi peret ko[yne tanmästär no] [peret = BHS kuṭhārī] (16a5). +∎TchA porat and B peret reflect a PTch *peret, a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source (Lidén, 1916, VW:637; MA:37). One should compare Ossetic färät or Khotanese paḍa- (< *par(a)ta-). +

+ + +
+

+perk- +(vi.) +‘peer, peep’
+Ps. II /perk^ä/_e-/ [MP // -, -, perkentär; MPImpf. // -, -, perśīyentär] +śāmna ṣemi tsrorīntsa ka perśīyeṃträ mā parna lännaṣyeṃ ‘some people peered through the gaps [of the houses] [but] they did not emerge’ (PK-AS- 17J-a4/5 [Pinault, 1994:115]), yenmeṃ prākre mutkuweṣ tsrorīntsa ka p[e]rk[e]nträ mā parna lnaskeṃ ‘having strongly fortified the gates, they peer through the gaps [but] do not emerge’ (PK-AS-17J-b1 [ibid.]). +∎Etymology uncertain. Pinault himself suggests a connection with Armenian p^corj (with expressive p^c-?) ‘attempt,’ Greek spérkhomai ‘move rapidly, hasten; be eager, vehement,’ Vedic spṛháyati ‘desires, covets,’ all from a PIE *(s)perǵ^h-. However, the semantic distance is great. One might think in this case of expressive or onomatopoetic origin (cf. English peek and peer). +

+ + +
+

+Perñik +(n.) +a proper name?
+[Perñik, -, -//] +moko Perñik (LP-33a2). +

+ + +
+

+perne +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘rank, worth, stage, (high) position; glory’; (b) NOUN-genitive + pernesa = ‘for the sake of’
+[perne, pernentse, perne//] +(a) nautaṃ-me perne tumeṃ yukseṃ ce_u aly[ai]k ‘their glory disappeared therefrom and others conquered it’ (22a4), ce krent yāmorsa källoym perne poyś[iññe] ‘by this good deed may I achieve buddha rank!’ (22b1), trice perne kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘he achieves the third rank’ (591al); +
+(b) po weṣṣäṃ śwātsintse pernesa ‘he says anything for the sake of food’ (31b4=32a6), ñi pernesa śaul rintsante ‘they renounced life for my sake’ (220a4). + -- -perne in the compound yekte-perne ‘of little worth’: [śwātsisa] cesa śāyau ñiś yekt/e-perne ‘by the eating of this I live at low rank’ (25a7); +
+perneṣṣe ‘prtng to worth or rank; splendid’: pañäktäṃñe perneṣṣe akālksa ‘by wish for buddha-rank’ (88b4), [pe]rñeṣṣe [sic] tau[pe] ‘a splendid mine’ (572a4). +∎TchA paräṃ and B perne reflect PTch *perne, a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source; cf. Sogdian prn (farn), Khotanese phārra- (< *farna-) from older Iranian *hvarnah- (Avestan x^varənah- ‘fame, glory, dignity’). This explanation goes back to Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze (1931:18) and in one form or another has been universally accepted (VW:635, with previous literature). +See also perne_u and pernerñe. +

+ + +
+

+perne_u +(adj.) +‘worthy, glorious’
+[m: perne_u, -, pernent/-, -, perneñc/perneñc, -, -] [f: pernauntsa, -, -//pernenta, -, -] +cai perneñco k_use tsälpoṣo kärkkāllemeṃ yśelmeṣṣe ‘these worthies who [have been] freed from the swamp of desire’ (8a4), sā ānteś pralya pernauntsa ‘she, the brilliant one [scil. the Buddha's mother], [is] to be borne on the forehead’ (246a4). +∎An adjectival derivative of perne, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pernerñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘[awe-inspiring] splendor, glory’
+[pernerñe, -, pernerñe//-, pernerñentaṃts, pernerñenta] +pernerñesa plätkweṣne tuṣitäṣṣe wimāṃne ‘in the tuṣita-palace, overflowing with splendor’ (231a2), snai pe[rnerñe] = BHS niṣprabhīkṛta (311a3). + -- pernerñeṣṣe ‘glorious’: pernerñeṣe Sumersa täprauñentats [tä]rne[ne] śmasta ‘thou hast stood on the summit of the heights over glorious Sumeru’ (203a4/5). +∎As TchA parnore ‘id.’ is a derivative of paräṃ, so B pernerñe is an abstract noun derivative from perne, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+perpette* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘burden, load’
+[-, -, perpette ~ perpecce//] +cai tne mā tallaṃ perpett[e] ‘they don't bear here the burden’ (44b2), perpecce ñiś cālawa ‘I raised up the burden’ (401b5). +∎Etymology unclear. It would seem reasonable to connect per- with PIE *b^her- ‘bear’ (cf. pär-) as does Couvreur (1950:130) but the rest of the word is more difficult. VW's suggestion (372) of a connection with Old English fōþor, OHG fuodar ‘(cart)load’ is semantically satisfying but phonologically less so (calling the -tt- a "redoublement secondaire" hardly explains anything). Melchert (p.c.) suggests an expressive reduplication, i.e. *per-per-te with subsequent assimilation of *-rt- to -tt-. +

+ + +
+

+perma +(adv.) +‘± voluntarily, willingly’
+perma = BHS kāmaṃ (544a4), pelaiknene stmau prākre perma śayim ‘may I live, firmly and willingly standing in the law!’ (S-6a2). +∎TchA parmā and B perma reflect PTch *per(ä)mā but further connections are dubious. VW (347) suggests a connection with PIE *b^her- ‘bear’ (cf. pär-) on the basis of several derivatives of *b^her- having the meaning ‘good’ but the semantic connection seems tenuous and it should be noted that there is no other Indo-European evidence for a *b^hormo- or the like with the meaning ‘good.’ The closest we might come is Greek phórimos ‘fruitful.’ +

+ + +
+

+pele +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘law’; (b) [usually] ‘prison’ [< *‘law, righteousness’]
+[pele, -, pele//] +(a) tumeṃ karmapāyä-weṣeñcatse tonak rekauna yentukäñe pele weṣäle ‘then the karmavācanā-speaker [is] to say these words [as] the Indian law’ (KVāc-18a4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:764]); +
+(b) kā ye[s ri]ntsi mā campcer pel=ostaṣṣ[e] totkā-yärm ‘why can't you renounce the prison of the house [even] a little?’ (5a1), prautka pelene ‘he locked [him] up in prison’ (21a4). + -- -pele in snai-pele (adj.) ‘unjust, unlawful’; (n.) ‘something unjust or unlawful’: okonta lwāsa [śwoṃ ce]w preke mā snai-p[e]le yāmṣyeṃ ‘the animals ate f uit at that time [and] they did nothing unlawful’ (3b1), snai-pele = BHS adharmam (U-16b1), saswa ce wessi [Pu]ttewatte snai-paille [lege: -pele] yāmu ste ‘lord, what P. has done to us [is] an injustice’ (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Pinault, 1984a:25]). +∎Etymology unclear. TchA pal and B pele reflect PTch *pele but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. VW (345) assumes a PIE *pod-lo-, a derivative of *ped- ‘seize, contain’ which is phonologically possible but is made less likely by the complete absence of any other reflex of *ped- in Tocharian. VW attempts to bolster the semantic side of the equation by pointing out that Sanskrit dharman- ‘law’ is a derivative of dhar- ‘maintain, sustain’ but the notion of ‘law’ as ‘that which sustains or maintains’ is rather distant from ‘that which contains, seizes.’ Given the possibility of a word for ‘law’ developing from ‘declaration’ (cf. Greek rhētrā), one might wish to connect pele with päl- ‘praise, commend’ or pälw- ‘complain, bewail,’ qq.v., both from *‘speak out strongly.’ +See also empele and pelaikne and possibly päl- and pälw-. +

+ + +
+

+pelaikne +(nm./nnt.) +‘law; righteousness’
+[pelaikne, pelaiknentse, pelaikne//pelaikni, pelaikneṃts, -; or pelaiknenta, pelaiknentaṃts, pelaiknenta] +[ākṣa] ... pelaikne śtwār=emprenm[a] ‘he announced the law and the four truths’ (1a4), pelaik[n]e = BHS saddharma (23a7), papāṣṣu pelaikn[e] ‘practicing righteousness’ (123al), täñ pelaiknemeṃ = BHS tvātmatāt (251a6), kreṃt pelaikne = BHS saddharmam (H-ADD. 149.85a5 [Thomas, 1968a:201] = U-22). + -- pelaikneṣṣe ‘prtng to the law, righteous’: pelaikneṣṣe [ś]au[l] ‘righteous life’ (15b7), laṃsūna lāṃtsi pelaikneṣṣana ‘to work works of righteousness’ (15b5=17b7), pelaiykneṣṣe wäntare ‘a concern of the law’ (H-149.X.3b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), [pelai]kneṣṣe reki kärtse a[kṣoṣ] = BHS dharmapadaṃ sudeśitam (H-149.198b6 [Thomas, 1968a:197]). +∎A compound of pele and yakne, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+pelkiñ +(postposition) +‘for the sake of’ [with noun in genitive]; ‘in order to’ [with infinitive in genitive]
+ ñi pelykiṃ ‘for my sake’ (109b4), spārtatsintse pelykiṃ = BHS nirvṛty-arthaṃ (177a6), ce_u smāṃ yāmtsintse pelkiñ yaltse tināränta ytārine ṣallāre ‘they threw on the road 1,000 dinars in order to make a repetition’ (H-149-ADD.12a5 [Thomas, 1954:757]). +‣Synonymous, or largely so, with pernesa (cf. perne) and pakāna, qq.v. +∎In pelkiñ we have a noun, *pelki, with the causal case-marker (cf. läkle-ñ ‘because of suffering’). The -ly- of the variant pelykiñ is probably nothing more than anticipatory palatalization of the -l- to the -ñ. The underlying noun pelki is a morphological variant of pelke, q.v. as leki is of leke. +See also pelke. +

+ + +
+

+pelke +(n.) +‘solemn but joyous utterance’
+[pelke, -, -//] +yetwe śāsantse pelke ṣamāññe ṣotri krentäntso soylñe weweñu ‘the jewel of teaching, the udāna, the monkish exemplar [is] called the satisfaction of the good’ (33a2/3), pelke = BHS udāna (547a6). +∎Possibly (as if) from PIE *b^hólgo- ‘utterance,’ a nomen actionis from *b^helg- ‘utter, make a noise’ [: Old English bealcan ‘utter, send forth, belch’ (< *b^holge/o-), unattested *b(i)elċan ‘id.’ (> Modern English belch), Dutch bulken ‘bellow, roar’]. PIE *b^helg- would be an élargissement of b^hel- ‘speak forcefully’ seen in päl- and pälw-. The *b^hel-, *b^helw-, and *b^holg- presupposed by päl-, pälw-, and pelke are nicely parallel with *wel- ‘roll,’ *welw- (cf. Old English wealwian ‘wallow’), and wolg- (cf. Old English wealcan ‘roll, toss’). TchB pelke would then be the exact formal equivalent of Middle English noun bolk ‘belch.’ Thus, probably not with VW (1971c:159, 1976:371) from *b^helǵ^h- [: OE belg ‘bag, purse, pod, husk, belly,’ Middle Irish bolg ‘bag, belly’] since the underlying meaning of this set would seem to be ‘puff up’ or the like rather than ‘blow’ as his explanation would demand. +See also pelkiñ and, more distantly, päl-, pälw-, and pele. +

+ + +
+

+pelykiñ +See pelkiñ. +

+ + +
+

+-pew +(adj.) +‘-footed’
+[-pew, -, -//-, -, -pewaṃ] +lyakäṃ kraupträ snai-pewaṃ wi-pewaṃ śtwer-pewaṃ makā-pewaṃ ‘he gathers thieves, [those] without feet, the two-footed, four-footed, and many-footed’ (H-149-ADD.8a3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:93]). +∎TchB -pew represents PIE *-pod-wen- ‘having [so-many] feet’ [: Sanskrit dvipád-, Old English twifēte ‘two-footed’ without the "possessive" suffix *-wen-] (Winter, 1962:29, VW:373). +See also paiyye. +

+ + +
+

+peṣele* +(n.) +‘± worm, insect’
+[//peṣeli, -, -] +maścītsi ṣpä peṣeli śaiṣṣene mäskenträ pākri ‘mice and worms/insects appear in the world’ [peṣeli = BHS kīṭa-] (K-8b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. It is possible that we have a nomen agentis (as if) from PIE *b^hosēlo-/b^hēsēlo- ‘devourer’ from PIE *b^hes- ‘rub; chew, devour’ [: Sanskrit bábhasti ‘chews, devours’ (3rd. pl. bápsati) or psāti ‘id.’ (< *b^hs-eh_a-) and Greek psáō ‘rub’ (P:145-146)]. The semantic agreement between Indic and Tocharian would be noteworthy. It is possible that this root appears in the TchA present päsnā- (if from *b^h_esnā-) that appears as a hapax legomenon at (A) 96a3: camyo talke ypamāṃ kosmāṃ päsnāmāṃ which might be translated ‘therewith making a sacrifice, killing and devouring [it].’ That Sanskrit too shows an -eh_a- extension (in psāti) might be accounted an additional small bit of evidence for introducing päsnā- here. In any event, we do not have some derivative of PIE *pes- seen otherwise in words for ‘penis’ (so VW, 1951:151, 1976:372). +See also possibly peṣte. +

+ + +
+

+peṣke +(n.) +‘clarified butter, ghee’ (a medical ingredient)
+[peṣke, -, -//] +peṣke = BHS sarpis- (Y-1al). +∎Probably a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source. Compare Modern Persian maske ‘fresh butter’ (Menges, 1965:131, VW:637). +

+ + +
+

+peṣṭi* +(n.) +a kind of dwelling
+[-, peṣṭintse, -//] +[le]nantse peṣṭintse wat twerene aipu [t]ā[kaṃ] (329a3). +∎Etymology uncertain. Isebaert (1979[81]:367) suggests that we have here a borrowing from a putative BHS *(u)peṣṭi-, a derivative of (Skt.) upa-viś- ‘approach, enter, sit down.’ +

+ + +
+

+peṣte* +(nm.) +‘± worm’ (?)
+[//-, -, peṣteṃ] +tnek nai peṣteṃ kleśaṣeṃ pontaṃts k ̇/// (554b3). +∎If the meaning is correct, we might have another derivative of PIE *b^hes- ‘devour’ (cf. peṣele), namely a putative *b^hoseto-/ b^hēseto- ‘devouring.’ +See also peṣte_u and peṣele. +

+ + +
+

+peṣte_u +(adj.) +‘having a peṣte,’ that is ‘worm-ridden’ (?)
+[m: peṣte_u, -, -//] +/// [eṅka]lñe peṣte_u eṅwe ra ‘passion [is] like a peṣte_u man’ (152b4). +∎Presumably an adjectival derivative of peṣte*. +

+ + +
+

+peṣnettannm +‘?’
+/// paṇḍarauñe rätrauñene peṣnettannm [sic] tsärkalle (P-3a5). +

+ + +
+

+Pesane* +(n.) +‘Pesane’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Pesanentse, -//] +(433a20). +

+ + +
+

+pest +(particle) +used with verbs with perfectivizing force
+[kr_u]i krent yamor po pest ce [lege: cai] kälpāskeṃ ‘if they achieve every good deed’ (135a2), akruna pest lyelyuwormeṃ ‘having brushed away the tears’ (514a8), yāmor rano pest nanautau ‘the deed [is] completely lost’ (K-7a4). +∎I take TchB pest (and its unstressed byform, päst) to be the exact equivalent of Latin post ‘afterwards; behind, after’ and Armenian əst (< *posti) and the close relative of B postäṃ ‘afterwards, later,’ (< *postu + nu) q.v. (so already Meillet, 1914:7). Phonologically we have in both the Latin and Tocharian forms the regular descendants of a PIE *pos-ti with, in Tocharian, the lack of palatalization before an original *-i- that is regular when that *-i- is in the neighborhood of (phonetically retracted) PIE *-s- (cf. B laks [nom./acc. sg.] ‘fish’ from *l_eḱsis and *l_eḱsim, the TchA first person plural -mäs from *-mesi or, as here, through an intervening, allophonically retracted, apicodental āstäṃ ‘heads’ [acc. pl.] with the reflex of the normal i-stem acc. pl. *-ins). PIE *post and its relatives [: Lithuanian pãstaras ‘last,’ Sanskrit paścā ‘after,’ OCS pozde ‘later,’ Albanian pas ‘after,’ etc. (P:841-842; MA:43)] are probably to be derived from *h₄apo ‘away’ (so Watkins, 1969). In TchB pest we have a semantic development of ‘away from’ (hence ‘behind, after’) to a general perfectivizing sense (much as ‘away’ in English can be). Not with VW (367) from PIE *pel- ‘push’ + -s- + -tu-. +See also päst and postäṃ. +

+ + +
+

+pets* +(n.) +‘husband’
+[-, -, pets//] +tkātre petso aiṃñ cai śāmnā ‘these people will provide a husband for my daughter’ (275b4). +∎TchA pats and B pets (petso shows ‘bewegliches o’) reflect PTch *petsä from PIE *poti- ‘master’ [: Sanskrit páti- ‘master, possessor, husband,’ Avestan paiti- ‘id.,’ Latin potis ‘capable,’ Greek pósis ‘husband,’ Gothic brūþ-faþs ‘bridegroom,’ Lithuanian pàts ‘husband’ (< patis) (P:842; MA:371)] (Feist, 1913:103, VW:349, though VW, unnecessarily, starts from *potyeh_a-). +

+ + +
+

+paiyyiśkaṃ +See śaiyyiśkaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+paiyye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘foot’
+[paiyye, -, paiyye/paine, -, paine/-, -, paiṃ (K-T)] +korne kelen=ārañcäś paine täṅtsi ‘in the throat, in the navel, towards the heart even [to] the feet’ (41b3/4), painemeṃ ette kloyomane ‘falling down from [his] feet’ (88a2), paiyye paiyyesa ‘foot over foot’ (602.1a2). + -- paiyyeṣṣe ‘prtng to the foot’ (M-1b8); +
+paiyyeññe ‘id.’: śwālyai paiyyeññe moko[ce] ‘the big toe of the right foot’ (371a2); +
+paineṣṣe* ‘prtng to the feet’ (108a9); +
+paiñe ‘id.’: paiñe mokociś ‘toward the big toe of the feet’ (41b4). +∎TchA peṃ (this form is the nom./acc. dual--compare the acc. sg. pe and the nom./acc. pl. peyu and the alternate acc. pl. pes) and B paine reflect PTch *peine. Such a form must represent an older dual *pei to which the productive dual ending -ne has been added (see Winter's discussion, 1962b). This *pei is the phonologically expected reflex of the PIE dual *póde (cf. Greek póde) of the widespread PIE word for ‘foot,’ *ped-/pod- [: Sanskrit pāt (stem pad-), Avestan pad-, Armenian otn, Greek poús (stem pod-), Latin pēs (stem ped-), Gothic fōtus, Hittite pad-, all ‘foot,’ perhaps Old Irish īs ‘underneath’ (if < locative pl. *pēdsu) = Albanian posh in përposh ‘under,’ etc. (P:790-791; MA:208-209)] (Sieg, Siegling, Schulze, 1931:2, VW:370, with differing details). PIE *póde would first have become *podi̯e > *poi̯e > *peyä > *pei. It is on thi dual form that a new singular has been built, i.e. *pei-(i)ye. Alternatively, VW and Hilmarsson (1989a:13-14) suggest a PIE *podyo- [: Sanskrit pádya- ‘of the foot,’ Avestan padyā- ‘foot,’ Greek péza ‘id.’ (certainly the Greek, and probably the Indo-Iranian presuppose PIE *pedyo-)] as the origin for the entire paradigm. However, we would expect such a form to have produced PTch *peye, a form that would never have eventuated in B paiyye. Hilmarsson later (1989a:95) suggests starting from either a PIE *pods or *pēds, either of which would have given pre-Tch *pe. To this latter form was then added *-äñe and *pe-äñe would have eventuated under his scenario in *pe-äye. One might also think of a PIE *poden- (cf. Armenian otn ‘foot’) but the nominative singular *podēn should still have a given a PTch *peye. In any event the rare plural must be analogical on the dual: nom./acc. dual -ne implies nom. pl -ñ, acc. pl. -ṃ (see poko). +See also patsa¹. +

+ + +
+

+po +(a) ([indeclinable/declinable] adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘all, every, each, complete’; (b) ‘everything, all’
+[m: po, -, pontäṃ ~ pont//poñc, pontäṃts, pontäṃ] [f: //ponta, -, ponta] +(a) po = BHS sarva (3a2), pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt ‘his whole body burns like a fire-brand’ (8a5), w[e]ña ... po taṅsa ... snätkwa po pwāra ñ[i] kektseṃne nraiṣṣana ‘he spoke with complete love ... all the fires of hell suffusing my body’ (22b6/7), po ekaññesa kekenu ‘provided with every possession’ (M-3a5), serkene po cmelaṣṣe ‘in each cycle of births’ (S-4b2), lykaśkeṃ rano yolaiñe po praṅkäṣṣim kärtsauñe [ṣek ritoymar] ‘may I reject every least evil and seek always the good’ (S-5al), po preśyaṃne ‘in all ages’ (S-6b4); +
+(b) srūka[l]ñ[=āke] pontaṃts ‘death [is] the end of all’ (3a3), śaulo posa olypo ‘the best life’ (24b5), pontats kärtseśc ‘for the good of all’ (203b2), wināskau ceṃts po cīne yku[w]eṣ larauñe ‘I honor the love of all of them [who have] gone to thee’ (244a5), lateṃ poñc ‘all went out’ (589a4), pone kartse ‘good for everything’ (W-29b1). + -- po-cmelaṣṣe* ‘prtng to all births’ (A-1a2); +
+po-preścyaṣṣe ‘± prtng to every age’: (TEB-58-20); +
+poyknesa ‘in every way’: poyknesa = BHS sarvaśaḥ (11a5), memyas makci ono[l]meṃ poyknesa mā tuntse [k]s[elñe] ‘you yourselves deceive beings in every way; there [is] no nirvana therefrom’ (28a7). +∎TchA po/pont- and B po/pont- reflect PTch po/pont-. Already in 1933, Meillet (in Lévi, 1933:38) had suggested that these Tocharian words should be equated with Greek pãs ‘all’ (cf. also Jasanoff, 1978:32). Under this hypothesis we might expect a mas.-fem. nom. sg. *pōnts which would have resulted in PTch *po. From this form the vowel was generalized to all parts of the paradigm. Similarly in Greek the -a- was generalized from forms with the zero-grade (the circumflex in pãs, rather than the acute, is a problem for any analysis of the Greek form). In a refinement of this etymology Penney (p.c.) suggest that both Tocharian and Greek reflect a PIE *peh_a-nt- (similar is Normier's *pānt- [1980:254]). Alternatively, Hilmarsson (1986:72 and 340-341) sees in this etymon an old aorist participle *h_apónt- to *h_aep- ‘take, grasp’ seen in Sanskrit apnóti ‘reaches, achieves’ or Latin apīscor ‘attain, come by’ but the semantic equation is not compelling and there seem to be no reason why a laryngeal would not have vocalized in initial position in Greek in a form such as *h_apónt-. In any case, not with VW (381-382) a derivative *b^hūnt- (or rather *b^huh_xnt-) from *b^heuh_x- (cf. Sanskrit bhūri- ‘numerous’), though such a form would be phonologically acceptable. +See also poyśi. +

+ + +
+

+poko* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘arm; [any] limb’
+[-, pokantse, pokai/pokaine, -, pokaine/pokaiñ, -, -] +prāri raso pokai wat lauke ykuwa ‘having come [out the measure of] a finger, a span, or an arm’ (41b4/5), ysāṣṣe ramt karse mlyuweñc pokaine ṣeckeṃ[tse] ‘thighs like a golden deer, the arms of a lion’ (75al), pokaine = BHS bāhu- (Y-2a3), po pokäṃntse [lege: pokaṃntse (according to Sieg)?] ‘the whole arm/extremity’ (Y-3a4/5). + -- -pokai in the bahuvrihi okt-pokai ‘eight-armed/limbed’: ok-pokai [sic] Viṣṇ[u] ‘eight-limbed Viṣṇu’ (74b5); +
+pokaiṣṣe* ‘prtng to an arm’ (H-149.ADD.60b4). +∎TchA poke and B pokai- reflect PTch *pokai- (as if) from PIE *b^heh_aǵ^hu-eh_a-h₁en- (cf. Hilmarsson, 1986:11, and, for the -eh_a-h₁en- Adams, 1988d). The underlying *b^heh_aǵ^hu- (f.) is widespread in PIE [: Sanskrit bāhú- ‘(fore-)arm, forefoot of animals,’ Avestan bāzu- ‘arm,’ Greek pēkhu- ‘forearm,’ Old English bōg ‘shoulder, arm; bough,’ OHG bug ‘shoulder, hip, shoulder-joint (of animal)’ (P:108; MA:26)] (Meillet, 1911:150, VW:380-381, with differing details). In Proto-Tocharian the *-o- of the root syllable results from the rounding of PIE *-eh_a- after a labial and before a *-u-. It is possible that we see a reflex of PTch *pokä, the unextended reflex of PIE *b^hāǵ^hu-, in the gen. sg. pokäntse (the expected shape for a genitive singular from a nominative or accusative *pok). Sieg suggests a scribal error for pokantse (presumably he is thinking of a /pokāntse/) but we would expect *pokaintse in a paradigm with accusative singular, dual, and plural respectively of the shapes pokai, pokaine, and pokaiṃ. This word is presumably the source of the borrowed Khotanese puka- ‘cubit’ (Bailey, 1979:242). (Not with Bailey should we see the Tocharian word as the cognate of Greek pugōn ‘cubit.’) +

+ + +
+

+potke +See pautke. +

+ + +
+

+pont- +See po. +

+ + +
+

+poyśi +(nm.) +‘the all-knowing, i.e. the Buddha’
+[poyśi, poyśintse, poyśiṃ (voc. poyśi)//poyśinta, poyśintaṃts, poyśinta] +toṃ ñyatstenta wikässiś poyśinta tne tseṅkeṃtär ‘buddhas arise to remove these dangers’ (5a6/7), [to]tka ra cmela mā poyśi palāte ‘the Buddha did not praise births in the least’ (64b1), [in Manichean script] bvšynt’nz [= poyśintaṃs] (Winter/Gabain:12). + -- poyśiññe ‘prtng to the buddha’: källoym perne poyś[iññe] ‘may I achieve the buddha rank!’ (22b1); +
+poyśiññeṣṣe ‘id.’: poyśiññeṣṣai ekṣalymeṃ ‘from the parousia of the buddha’ (S-8b4). +∎From po ‘all,’ q.v., + aiśi, a nomen agentis from aik-, q.v., ‘know.’ +See also po, aik- and poyśeñca*. +

+ + +
+

+poyśeñca* +(n.) +‘the all-knowing, i.e. the Buddha’
+[-, -, - (voc. poyśeñcai)//] +/// ñi poyśeñcai sāṃ empe[le] ‘[will be taken away from] me, O Omniscient one, the terrible enemy?’ (21b8). + -- poyṣeñcaññe ‘± prtng to the Buddha’ (?): ///skeṃ poyṣeñcaññe [sic] ñemṅ-kälywe (345b3). +∎From po + aiśeñca, the present participle of aik-, q.v. +See also poyśi. +

+ + +
+

+porcaññar +See ārk-. +

+ + +
+

+porsno* +(n.) +‘ankle’ (?)
+[-, -, porsnai//] +tane Rudraśarme brāhmaṇe [] portsaisa [lege: porsnaisa] Utta[re]ṃ mñcuṣkeṃ eṅkormeṃ tsakatsai keṃtsa orkäntai yärtta-ne ‘then the brahman R., seizing prince U. by the ankle, dragged him back and forth over the thorny ground’ (88a3/4). +‣This reading (with -rsn- rather than -rts-) is somewhat speculative but can be paralleled (-ts- and -st- are occasionally confused and of course -n- and -t- are notoriously difficult to distinguish) and allows us to suggest a meaning that is more reasonable in the context than the ‘belt’ that is usually assumed here (Adams, 1983a:612). +∎If reading and meaning are correct, TchB porsno reflect a putative PIE *pērsneh_a-h₁en- (more particularly the Tocharian root vowel -o- is generalized from the nominative singular where it is regular by o-umlaut) [: Sanskrit pārṣṇi- (f.) ‘heel,’ Avestan pāšna- (nt.) ‘id.,’ Greek ptérnē ‘id.,’ Latin perna ‘ham,’ Gothic fairsna- (< *pērsneh_a- just as in Tocharian), Armenian hir ‘retro-’ (< a PIE endingless locative *pērsen; Olsen, 1988:22), Hittite pars(i)na- ‘thigh’ (P:823; MA:265)]. +

+ + +
+

+portsai +See porsno. +

+ + +
+

+poṣat* +(n.) +‘fasting’
+(Cited by Bailey, 1967:202.) +∎From BHS upoṣadha-. +

+ + +
+

+poṣiya* +(nm.) +‘wall’
+[//-, -, poṣiyaṃ] +astāṣṣi poṣī[yañ] = BHS asthiprākāram (299b3), mäkte ost poṣiyantsa [wa]wārpau [pa]paikau ā[s]tre ‘as a house surrounded by walls, painted and clean’ (A-2a4/5). +∎TchA poṣi and B poṣiya reflect a PTch *poṣiyā- from PIE *pusiyeh_a-, the exact equivalent of Lithuanian pùsė ‘half’ (Fraenkel 1932:229], VW:384; cf. also Hilmarsson, 1986:42). Semantically both ‘wall’ and ‘half’ might be *‘that which divides.’ The -o- vowel may be regular for PIE *-u- in a labial environment or it may be by contamination with PIE *puso/eh_a- seen in TchA posaṃ ‘under, beside,’ posac ‘beside,’ old case forms of a *pos ‘wall’ [: Old Prussian pausan/ pauson ‘half’ which at least Schmalstieg (1974:322, fn. 37) would phonemicize as /pusan/]. +See also pauṣke. +

+ + +
+

+postak* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘book’
+[-, -, postak//] +postakne a[kṣārnta] ‘the akṣaras in the book’ (S-7b4). +∎From BHS pustaka-. +

+ + +
+

+postaññe +(a) (adj.); (b) (adv.) +(a) ‘later, latter’; (b) ‘later; even [as much as]’
+[m: postaññe, -, postaññe//] +(a) [ña]ke ṣ postäñ[ñ]e ‘now and later’ (25a4), Prābhāse wlo pärweṣṣe Siddhartheṣpä postäññe ‘P. [was] the first king and S., the later’ (228a2), śtwer meñtsa postaññeṣ [sic] ṣamānentse pudgalyik kāko wä[rpa]nalle ‘four months is the latest a monk [is] to enjoy a personal invitation’ (H-149.X.3a2/3 [Couvreur, 1954b:47/48]); +
+(b) se ṣamāne plākisa aśiyanampa ytāri yam p[o]staṃñe rano k_uṣaimeṃ kwaṣai täṅtsi pāyti ‘[if] whatever monk travels along by agreement, even from one village to the [next] village, with nuns, pāyti’ (H-149.337a2=PK-AS-18B-b2 [ibid.:50/ Pinault, 1984b: 377]). +∎A derivative of postäṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+postanu +(adj.) +‘later, latter’
+[m: postanu, -, postanont//] +se ñi posa postanu ... pinwāt warpalñe tākaṃ ‘he will enjoy my latest alms above all’ (107b10), postanu pākäṣ = BHS aparapakṣa- (510al), eṃṣke postanont camelne vajrāsantsa la[moym] ‘may I sit on a diamond-throne even in this latter birth!’ (580a3). +∎An adjectival derivative of of postäṃ. +

+ + +
+

+postanmeṃ +(adv.) +‘finally’
+[wänta]rwaṃts tsrelñe āke postanmeṃ ‘separation from things [is] finally the end’ (4a1), [Brahma]datti lānti weswe postanmeṃ mā ṣp śarsa ‘and finally he did not recognize the trace of king B.’ (358a4). +∎The ablative of postäṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+postäṃ +(adv.) +‘finally, afterwards’; ([indeclinable] adj.) ‘latter’
+[ma]nt śāmn[aṃ]ts śaul ... kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne kärsnātr attsaik postäṃ ‘so the life of men is cut off finally by the passing of days and months’ (3b5), mā walke nke ñiś ksemar tu postäṃ onmiṃ tākaṃ-me ‘before long I will be extinguished and afterwards you will have regret’ (29a8), yāmtr alyeṅkäṃ appamāt yaṃ postäṃ nraintane ‘he will treat others badly and go afterwards into hells’ (31b5=32a7), nauṣ pāke postäṃ pāke ‘the former portion and the latter portion’ (A-1b6), ktow ramt śaktalye mā postäṃ aiśai yāmu ‘like a sown seed [is] not made visible [until] later’ (K-3b5), postäṃ ynemane = BHS anusaran (U-3b1), postäṃ = BHS paścād (U-11a3). +∎It would seem reasonably clear that in TchB postäṃ ‘afterwards, later’ we have a cognate of Latin post ‘afterwards; behind, after’ (so already Meillet, 1914:7, though he does not offer any exact account of the phonological side of the relationship; cf. also Jasanoff, 1978:32). Hilmarsson, 1986:49 suggests a PIE *pos-dō under the assumption that final PIE *-ō yielded PTch *-ū which, after rounding the preceding vowel, disappeared. He adduces the Old Russian pozdъ and OCS pozde, presupposing *pos-do (with a short vowel) as similar formations. I do not think thatdisE -ō became *-ū except when in the neighborhood of *-w- (as in *oḱtōw > okt ‘eight’ or the preterite participle ending -u from *-wōs). I think it is preferable to take postäṃ as a reflection of PIE *postu (similar to the *posti seen in Latin post and TchB pest, q.v.) + *nu (MA:43). Not with VW (383-384) from *pos- ‘side’ + pronominal *-täṃ. +See also the derivatives postaññe, postanu, postanmeṃ, and ompostäṃ, and, more distantly pest. +

+ + +
+

+paucciṃ* +(n.[acc.pl.]) +‘± renunciation’ [only in N-meṃ paucciṃ yām- ‘make a a renunciation of, renounce’]
+[//-, -, paucciṃ] +/// [yokai]meṃ paucciṃ pyāmtsat ‘make a renunciation from evil!’ (11a3), kartse yolw aiśeñca ñake paucciṃ pyāmtsar toṃ arṣāklaimeṃ ‘knowing good and evil, make now a renunciation of that snake!’ (42a4=43b5). +∎A nomen actionis from putk-, q.v. +See also pauśye. +

+ + +
+

+paut- +(vt.) +‘honor, flatter’
+Ps. IV /pauto-/ [MP -, - pautotär// -, -, pautontär; Ger. pautolle]; Ko. V /pāutā-/ [AOpt. -, -, pautoy//] +yarke peti ñaṣtär sū ... nauntai nauntai ostä ostä se sampä ksa poutoy ñäś ‘he seeks [only] honor and flattery; he [goes] street by street, house by house, [saying]: this on or that one should flatter me’ (33b3). + -- papautarmeṃ: piś uw[eṃ] akalṣälyeṃścä makā-yäkne [pa]pautarmeṃ [] weṣäṃn-meśc s_äsūśkaṃ nesäṃ ksa ñī yesäśc añmaṣ[ṣe] reki ‘having flattered the five learnèd disciples in many ways, he says to them: children, [here] is my personal word to you’ (81a1). +∎TchA pot- and B paut- reflect PTch *paut-. The Class IV present may well be an analogical, created to distinguish the present from the subjunctive, both originally Class V. The Class V present/subjunctive would then be the mark of an old denominative, *peut-ā-. In any case, we have a reflex of PIE *b^heud^h- ‘wake, be awake’ [: Sanskrit bódhati ‘be awake, be aware, recognize,’ Avestan baoδaiti ‘pay attention,’ Greek peúthomai/punthánomai ‘learn,’ Gothic anabiudan ‘order,’ Lithuanian bundù ‘awake,’ budù ‘be awake,’ OCS bljudǫ ‘pay attention,’ etc. (P:150-152; MA:636)] (Lane, 1938:27, VW:385). As to the semantic development, VW rightly points out that ‘attention’ may also mean ‘solicitude, regard’ (cf. French ‘une aimable attention’ or ‘avoir mille attentions pour’). +See also pautarṣke and pauto. +

+ + +
+

+pautarṣke +(adj.) +‘honoring, flattering’
+[m: pautarṣke, -, -//] +rek[i] pautarṣke ‘a flattering word’ (20b5), ṣmare mällarṣke mäsketär-ne palsko ṣpä wlaiśke pautarṣke ‘smooth and flexible is his spirit, soft and honoring’ (K-10b1), su prākre tākoy-ñ arañce poś pautarṣke ‘may this my heart be firm, honoring all!’ (S-5b1). +∎An adjectival derivative of paut-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pauto +(n.) +‘honor, flattery’
+(K-T). +∎A nomen actionis from paut-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pautke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± share, tribute’
+[pautke, -, pautke//] +mā walke [kca] w[es rani aiy]m[o] potke śoläṣṣe (295a2), Kanaṣka pautke k_uśāneṃ 500 ‘K. [as his] share [gave] 500 kuśānes’ (490a-I-a4). +∎A nomen actionis from putk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pauśye* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± tax(es)’
+[-, -, pauśye//pauśyenta, -, -] +lānte spaktāṃ ypoye pauśye añmants=ekñi kurpelle tusa ñskentär [sic] waipecce ‘one must [be] concerned with service to the king, national taxes, one's own possessions, thus they seek possessions’ (33a6), /// pauśyenta āṣkar [sa]sākauwa ṣeyeṃ (Otani II.11 [Thomas, 1954:306]). +∎A nomen actionis from putk-, q.v. It is possible that pauśye (< *pauccye) and paucciṃ ‘renunciation’ are the nom. sg. and acc. pl. respectively of what was originally a single paradigm, a paradigm that has divided in two to match the divergent meanings. +See also putk- and paucciṃ. +

+ + +
+

+pauṣke* +(n.) +‘rib’ (?)
+[//-, -, pauṣkeṃ] +kuñcītäṣṣe ṣalype ... malkwersa päkṣalle ///ñc päsśśanesa sanāpatsi pauṣkeṃsa /// ‘sesame oil with milk [is] to be cooked ... over the breasts [it is] to be smeared and on the ribs ...’ (W-4b2/3). +‣The semantic identification is based on the fact that the word must refer to some body part adjacent to the breasts. ‘Ribs’ or ‘sides’ suggest themselves but if it were ‘sides’ we would expect another dual (as in päśśane). +∎I take this word to reflect a putative PIE *pēusiko-, a vṛddhied, possibly diminutive, derivation from *pus- ‘side’ also seen in poṣiya ‘side,’ q.v. This derivational and semantic relationship would be similar to but opposite that obtaining between Sanskrit párśu- (f.) ‘rib’ and pārśvá- (nt.) ‘side, region of the ribs.’ +See also poṣiya. +

+ + +
+

+pkata +‘?’
+ikä[ṃ]-ṣkasne indr[i] pkata /// (484al). +‣It may also be read pkana. +

+ + +
+

+pkante* +(n.) +‘obstacle, hindrance; something put crosswise’
+[-, -, pkante//-, -, pkäntenma] +kete pkante yāmyeṃ kal[l]au[n]e cai cets sañi ‘Diese sind ihre Feinde, deren Behinderung sie müssten bei Erlangung’ (31b7/8), mäntr[ā]kka pelaiknemeṃ pk[ante] /// = BHS evaṃ dharmād apakramya (305a4), pkantesa śle ywārc ‘in width/crosswise one and a half’ (H-149.X.4b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- pkänte-pilko ‘± looking askance’: pkänte-pilkw attsaik dakṣiṇā[keṃ lyelyakor]meṃ ‘having looked on the worthy ones only [with] envious looks’ (24a4). +∎TchA pkänt and B pkante reflect PTch *p(ä)känte which is probably (as if) from PIE *b^hegṇto-, a derivative of *b^heg- ‘break’ [: Armenian bekanem ‘break,’ Sanskrit bhanákti ‘break, interrupt, impede,’ Old Irish bongid ‘breaks’ (P:114-115)] (VW:376). Morphologically it is similar to yente ‘wind,’ q.v. from *h₂weh₁-nto-, a derivative of *h₂weh₁- ‘blow.’ +See also epinkte. +

+ + +
+

+pkelñe +See päk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+pkopi +‘?’
+/// śuklyā pkopi se/// (580b5). +

+ + +
+

+pkwalñe, pkwalle +See päkw. +

+ + +
+

+Ptompile +(n.) +‘Ptompile’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Ptompile, -, -//] +(491b-III-4). +

+ + +
+

+pyāk- +(vt.) +‘strike (downwards), batter; beat [of a drum]; penetrate [as a result of a downward blow]’
+Ko. I /pyāk-/ [AOpt. pyāśim, -, pyāśi//; Inf. pyāktsi; Ger. pyākälle]; PP /pāpyāku-/ +walo cew enkormeṃ pyāśi-ne [śa]nmäṣṣi-ne wat ypoymeṃ wat lyucī-ne ‘the king, seizing him, would beat him, or bind him, or drive him from the country’ (H-149-ADD.8a4f [Thomas, 1974:102]), kautsi pyāktsi skāratsi pär[mankänta karstatsi] ‘to kill, to strike, to revile, to cut off hopes’ (266b3), pelaikneṣṣe kerū cai ... ente pyāśyeṃ ‘if these beat the drum of the law’ (313b4=S-5b2); lyāka ṣpä ce śaiṣṣe āś papyākoṣ po läklentaṃts ‘he sees [in] this world the head battered by all sufferings’ (220a5). + -- pyākälyñe ‘striking’: apsāl śakattai[sa] ay ṣesa pyākälyñe | aścä kärstalyñe ‘the striking with sword and club, together with bone to cut off the head’ (284b2). +∎Related to TchA pyākäṣ (n.) ‘post’ but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. It may be that the PTch *pyāk- is to be derived from PIE *b^heih_a- ‘strike’ [: Avestan byente ‘they struggle, strike,’ Old Irish benaid ‘strikes,’ OCS bijǫ ‘strike,’ and other, nominal cognates in Armenian, Greek, Latin, and Germanic (P:117-118)], i.e. as *bheih_a-K- (cf. kalāk-, parāk-, and walāk-, though none of these would be identical in ablaut). This etymology is VW's (1944:32, 1976:397-398, with differing details). Cf. Adams, 1988b. More likely is adding Tch pyāk- to Mann's equation (1977:156) of Albanian pjek ‘meet, encounter,’ përpjek ‘hit, knock, strike’ and Germanic *fehtan ‘fight,’ cf. English fight, under a lemma *pyek- ‘strike’ (MA:549). +

+ + +
+

+pyāpyo +(nf.) +‘flower’
+[pyāpyo, pyapyantse, pyāpyai//pyapyaiñ, pyapyaints, pyapyaiṃ] +[wa]wakauwa pyapyaino ‘flowers in bloom’ (247b4), [mäkte kroṅśe] pyapyaimeṃ ere were mā mī[yäṣṣäṃ] ‘as the bee does not harm the appearance or smell from the flower’ (300a2), [kakraupa]rmeṃ krentaunaṣṣana pya[ppy]aiṃ = BHS pracīya guṇapuṣpāṇi (PK-NS-414b2 [Couvreur, 1966:170]), stām ṣañ p[yapyaiṃtsa] = BHS taruṃ svakusumair (PK-NS-414b4 [id.]). + -- pyāpyaiṣṣe ‘prtng to flower(s)’ (629b4); +
+pyapyaitstse* ‘having flowers’: pyapyaicceṃ werpiśkaṃ ‘flower gardens’ (179a4). +∎TchA pyāpi and B pyāpyo reflect PTch *pyāpyā(-iän)- (where *-iän- reflects the PIE "definitizing" suffix *-h₁en-) which probably reflects a (reduplicated) PIE *p(e)yeh_a- [: Sanskrit pyāyate ‘is swollen’ and others from the extensive group of *peih_a-: Sanskrit payas- (nt.) ‘liquid, water, milk,’ pīvan- (adj.) ‘fat,’ Greek pīōn ‘id.,’ etc. (P:793-794; MA:194, 382)] (VW, 1941:104, 1976:398). Hilmarsson's suggestion (1986:342) of a connection with päp/pup ‘stinking’ is less likely for both semantic and phonological reasons. +
+Thus, within Tocharian the closest relative would seem to be TchA pyāṣṭā- (sic) ‘strengthen, give force to; be digestible [of food]’ (the present pyaṣṭa- is analogical) which represents a denominative *pey(h_a)ost-eh_a- from an adjective *pey(h_a)osto- ‘± provided with liquid, vital energy,’ in turn, an adjectival derivative of *pey(h_a)es- (nt.) ‘± liquid, vital energy’ [: Sanskrit páyas- ‘liquid, water, milk, semen, vital force,’ Avestan payah- ‘milk’]. For the adjectival derivation we might compare Latin arbor ‘tree’ and arbustus ‘planted with trees,’ onus (nt.) ‘burden’ and onustus ‘laden,’ venus ‘charm, loveliness’ and venustus ‘charming, lovely.’ In Late Latin (Jerome) we even have a denominative verb onustāre ‘to burden, load’ with exactly the same formation as in PTch *p(i)yāstā- (VW:397). The agreement with Indic, both as to pyāpyā- and the noun underlying pyāṣṭā- is rightly underlined by VW. +

+ + +
+

+pyutk- +(vt.) +‘establish, bring into being, create’ [päst pyutk- (vi.) ‘become ready’]
+Ps. IX /pyutkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, pyutkäṣṣäṃ// -, -, pyutkäskeṃ]; Ko. IX (= Ps.) [Inf. pyutkäs(t)si]]; Pt. II /pyāutkā-/ [A -, -, pyautka// -, -, pyautkare]; PP /pepyutko-/ +///rkātär pāyti pyutkäṣṣäṃ ‘[this sin] establishes pāyti’ (329a4), pyutkäskeṃ-ne krentau[wna] ‘virtues establish it’ (591a5); teṃ epinktene sā_u onko[rño] päs pyautka ‘in the meantime the porridge had become ready’ (107a3); [añ]m[a]lāṣlñe aiśamñe ente tāko-ñ pepyu[tkoṣ] ‘if mercy and wisdom have been created for me’ (268b3). + -- pyutkaṣṣälñe ‘± establishment’ (586a5). +∎AB pyutk- reflect PTch *p(ä)yutk- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Traditionally this word is connected with PIE *bheuh_x- ‘be, become’ (Schneider, 1941:48, Pedersen, 1941:228). Semantically such an equation is very good but, as VW (399) cogently points out, it is phonologically very suspect as the palatalized py- cannot be regular. VW himself connects this word with PIE *pei(h_a)- ‘be swollen’ [: Sanskrit pīvan- ‘full, robust, strong,’ pīvas- (nt.) ‘fat,’ Greek pîar (nt.) ‘fat,’ pialéos ‘fat,’ etc, (P:793-794)], assuming an extended *pyeu- (he does not explicate the -t-). Such an explanation explains too little, particularly as Sanskrit pīvan-, pīvas- are almost surely to be divided *p(e)ih_a-wen-, *p(e)ih_a-wes-, etc., depriving his putative *pyeu- of any foundation. I think it possible that the p- is the remains of an old prefix (as probably in plänk-, prutk- qq.v.) added to -yutk- ‘ripen, swell,’ representing a putative PIE *h₁eud-sḱe/o- [: Russian udit' ‘ripen, mature, swell with liquid’]. Another possibility is that the prefixed verb, if such it is, is related to B yu- ‘mature, complete one's natural development,’ q.v. In any case, this PTch *yutk- would be unrelated to the *yutk- which appears in TchA yutk- ‘be worried, concerned’ and which is probably from PIE *yeudh- ‘move quickly, agitatedly.’ +

+ + +
+

+pyorye +(nf.) +‘yoke’
+[pyorye, -, -//] +eśnesa menkitse tākoy kacāp ompä pärkre śāyeñca pyorye ṣäp tākoy cew warne somo lyautai länktsa mā kly[e]ñca ‘there would be there a tortoise lacking eyes, living long, and there would be a yoke in that water with a single opening, light [in weight] and not staying [still]’ (407a6/7). + -- pyoriṣṣe ‘prtng to a yoke’: näno aiyse pyoriṣṣe lāṃṣānte k_uśāneṃtsa 150 ‘furthermore they levied an extra [payment] for the yoke of 150 k_uśānes’ [?; we would know more perhaps about the extra payment pertaining to the yoke, if we knew what the major item in this entry (two lines above), akwaneṃ, meant] (490a-III4). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (399) suggests a connection with PIE *b^heih_x- ‘strike’ and Hilmarsson (1991b:173-174) suggests a derivation from *peh₁i- ‘injure, abuse.’ Both are semantically possible (cf. the relationship of Sanskrit dhūrvati ‘injures, causes to fall,’ Hittite tūriya- ‘harness,’ and Sanskrit dhūḥ ‘harness’) and both are phonologically possible (assuming in both cases that we have a derivative in -ye built on a preterite participle or abstract). However, neither is compelling. Extremely unlikely is Hilmarsson's earlier suggestion (1986:27-28) of an equation with Sanskrit piyāru- ‘mocking, degrading.’ As a speculative possibility, one might suggest a putative PIE *bhi-yeh_a-ru- (+ later -ye) ‘that which goes around.’ +

+ + +
+

+prakār +(n.) +‘sort, nature, class’
+[prakār, -, prakār//-, -, prakāränta] +[pi]ś prakāränta yaiku rano tākaṃ = BHS yāvat pañcapra-kāraghnaḥ (198a2). +∎From BHS prakāra-. +

+ + +
+

+prakrauñe +See prākre. +

+ + +
+

+prankarac +(n.) +‘Wedelia calendulacea Less.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[prankarac ~ pṛnkarac, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS bhṛngarāja-. +

+ + +
+

+Prajñākaracaṃndre +(n.) +‘Prajñākaracandra’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Prajñākaracaṃndre, -, -//] +(433a19). +

+ + +
+

+Prajñārakṣite* +(n.) +‘Prajñārakṣita’ (PN in graffito)
+[-, Prajñārakṣitentse, -//] +(G-Su8). +

+ + +
+

+Prajñāwarme +(n.) +‘Prajñāvarma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Prajñāwarme, -,-//] +(G-Qm10). +

+ + +
+

+Praṇāde* +(n.) +‘Praṇāda’ (PN of a buddha)
+[-, -, Praṇādeṃ//] +(Pinault, 1993-94:175). +

+ + +
+

+pratiṃ +(nnt.) +‘decision, resolve, resolution, conversion’ [pratiṃmeṃ klautk- ‘change one's mind’]
+[pratiṃ -, pratiṃ//-, -, prati(nä)nta] +mälläṣṣitär sū eṅwa pratinta ‘he disavowed received opinions’ (19a4), kelästa läkle pratinmeṃ waskātai ma at=ate ‘thou didst bear suffering, thou didst not budge from [thy] resolve’ (224b2/3). +∎A borrowing, with Suffixswechsel, from TchA pratim ‘id.,’ itself an old compound, (as if from) PTch *prete (cf. eprete) + ime ‘decision-awareness’ (Winter, 1962c:71-72). +See also eprete. +

+ + +
+

+pratikapañäkte +(nm.) +‘a Buddha who reserves his enlightenment to himself’
+[pratikapañäkte, -, -//pratikapañäkti, -, -] +(552b2). +∎A calque on BHS pratyekabuddha-. +See also the variant pratyaikapudñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+pratītyasamutpat +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘origin by dependence (in the great chain of being)’
+[pratītyasamutpāt, -, pratītyasumutpāt//] +(149b2). +∎From BHS pratītyasa-mutpāda-. +

+ + +
+

+pratipat +See pratiwat. +

+ + +
+

+pratipal +(n.) +‘Sida rhombifolia Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[pratipal, -, -//] +(W-34a6). +∎From BHS pratibala-. +

+ + +
+

+pratimokṣ +See prātimokṣ. +

+ + +
+

+pratilom +(adv.) +‘with the grain’
+(179b5). +∎From BHS *pratiloma- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+prativijñaptilakṣaṃ +(n.) +‘sign of recognition’
+[prativijñaptilakṣaṃ -, -//] +(194a4). +∎From BHS *prativijñapti-lakṣaṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+prativiṣ +(n.) +‘Aconitum heterophyllum Wall.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[prativiṣ -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS prativiṣā-. +

+ + +
+

+pratiwank +See pratiwat. +

+ + +
+

+pratiwat* ~ pratipat* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘new moon’
+[-, -, pratiwat ~ pratipat//] +prattiwaṃkne [sic] (437a2), /// pratiwatmeṃ pällenta [sic] /// ‘from the new moon [to] the full moon’ (439a3), ṣkas kṣuntsa Kṣemārjune lānti yakwe pikulne śkañce meṃne pratipatne ‘in the sixth year of the regnal period of king K., in the sixth month, on the new moon’ (G-Su34.1). +∎From BHS pratipad- (for discussion, see Sieg, 1950:211). The native Tocharian equivalent is ñuwe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+pratisaṃkhyānirot* +(n.) +‘suppression of careful consideration’ (?)
+[-, -, pratisaṃkhyānirot//] +(189a1). +∎From BHS *pratisaṃkhyā-nirodha- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+pratisaṃvit* +(n.) +‘special knowledge’
+[//pratisaṃvitänta, -, -] +(427a5). +∎From BHS pratisaṃvid(ā)-. +

+ + +
+

+pratihari* +(n.) +‘wonder, miracle’
+[-, -, pratihari//-, -, pratiharinta] +tarya orotstsana pratiharinta sälkāte-meś [] raddhi-lakäṣñeṣṣe pratihari [] palsko ṣärpalñeṣṣe pratihari [] enäṣñeṣṣe pratihari ‘he expressed to them the three great wonders: the magic-sight wonder, the thought-informing [= mind-reading] wonder, and the instruction-wonder’ (108b3/4). +∎From BHS prātihārya-. +

+ + +
+

+pratyutpaṃ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘present’
+(170b2). +∎From BHS pratyupanna-. +

+ + +
+

+pratyaikapañäktäññe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a buddha who reserves his enlightenment to himself’
+[m: -, -, pratyaikapañäktäññe//] +(591b5). +∎This adjective presupposes an unattested noun *pratyaikapañäkte, a variant of pratikapañäkte and pratyaikapudñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+pratyaikapudñäkte* +(n.) +‘a buddha who reserves his enlightenment to himself’
+[-, -, pratyaikapudñäkte//-, pratyaikapudñäkteṃts, pratyaikapudñäkteṃ] +(45b6). +∎A calque on BHS pratyekabuddha-. +See also the variant pratikapañäkte as well as pratyaikapañäktäññe*. +

+ + +
+

+pradhāṃ +(n.) +‘essential part’ (?) or ‘effort’ (?)
+[pradhāṃ, pradhānantse, -//] +pradhānantse = BHS prādhānyasya [sic] (201b3). +∎From BHS pradhāna-. +

+ + +
+

+Praṇāde* +(n) +‘Praṇāda’ (PN)
+[-, -, Praṇādeṃ//] +(Qumtura 34-g2 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+prapuntarik +(n.) +‘root of white lotus’ (a medical ingredient)
+[prapuntarik ~ prapuṇḍarik, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS prapuṇḍarīka-. +

+ + +
+

+Prabhankar(e) +(n.) +‘Prabhangara’ (PN of a former buddha)
+[Prabhankar(e), -, -//] +(74b2, H-149.ADD.4a4 [Thomas, 1965:196]). +

+ + +
+

+pramāṃ* +(n.) +‘± measure’
+[-, -, pramāṃ//] +[aiśa]mñentse yaräṃ pramāṃ kä[lpau] [dyadic with yarm] ‘having achieved a measure of wisdom’ (110a4). +∎From BHS pramāṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+prayasvati* +(n.) +the designation of a meter?
+[-, -, prayasvati//] +prayasvatine (G-Su36.1). +

+ + +
+

+prayok +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± use, employment; remedy; presentation’
+[prayok, -, prayok//prayokänta, -, -] +panitäṣṣe ṣpel ṣe prayok ‘a poultice of honey [is] one remedy’ (FS-b1). +∎From BHS prayoga- +

+ + +
+

+pravacaṃ +(nm.) +‘sacred text’
+(401a3). +∎From BHS pravacana-. +

+ + +
+

+Pravare +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Pravara’ (PN of messenger of the gods and friend of Indra)
+[Pravare, -, -//] +(507b3). +

+ + +
+

+praveśakk +(n.) +‘introduction [to a work]’
+[praveśakk, -, -//] +(519a4) +∎From BHS praveśaka-. +

+ + +
+

+Praśāntatewe +(n.) +‘Praśāntadeva’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Praśāntatewe, -, Praśāntateweṃ//] +(439a2, PK-DAM.507(19) [Pinault, 1987:86]). +

+ + +
+

+praściye* +(nf.]) +‘rainshower, cloudburst’
+[-, -, praściye//] +/// warpalyñeṣṣeṃ [lege: -ai] praściye swāsäṣṣawa ‘I rained a cloudburst of enjoyment’ (154b6), tärkär ra praściye antpi tä/// (388b4). +‣The meaning is that of Krause and Thomas (1964) and seems appropriate to the contexts, however fragmentary. +∎As if from PIE *prōstiyo- a vṛddhied derivative of the verbal noun *p(e)rsti- seen otherwise in OCS prъstь ‘dust.’ The underlying verb root is *pers- ‘pour, sprinkle’ seen in pärs-, q.v. Another nomen actionis is PIE *pṛso- (m.) seen in Slovene pr̃h (m.) ‘dust, ashes’ and Old Norse fors/foss (m.) ‘waterfall.’ The vṛddhi is probably an inner-Tocharian development (cf. pauṣke, ṣecake or traksiṃ). So VW, 1967: 184, 1976:388-389, with differing details. +See also pärs-. +

+ + +
+

+praśśānkaṃ +(n.) +‘eruption of pustules’
+[praśśānkaṃ -, -//] +praśśānkaṃ erṣäṃ [praśśānkaṃ = BHS visphoṭaka-] (ST-b4/5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+prasāt +(n.) +‘faith; tranquility’
+(382b6). +∎If correctly identified, from BHS prasāda-. +

+ + +
+

+Prasaṃnake +(n.) +‘Prasenajit’ (PN of a king of the Kausalas)
+[Prasaṃnake, Prasaṃnaki, -//] +(21a6). +See Prasenacī. +

+ + +
+

+Prasenacī +(n.) +‘Prasenajit’ (PN of a king)
+[Prasenaci, -, -//] +(5a2). +See Prasaṃnake. +

+ + +
+

+praskāre +(n.) +designation of some monastic official
+[praskāre, -, -//] +praskāre Mokṣacandre (DAM.507-a15 [Pinault, 1984a: 24]) +∎Probably with VW (1983[87]:258-259) a derivative of the (originally subjunctive) stem of pärsk- ‘fear.’ The semantic development would be something on the order of ‘inspiring fear, awesome’ > ‘reverend.’ +See also pärsk-. +

+ + +
+

+prastrāṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘bed(-roll)’
+[-, -, prastrāṃ//] +ot ñweṃ prast[r]āṃ eye[ṃ]tse /// ‘then a new bed out of sheep's [wool]’ (326al). +∎From BHS prastaraṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+pratsāko +(nf.) +‘breast’
+[pratsāko, -, pratsākaine//] +khadirṣśe [sic] śāmñe=yāṣṣe wat ṣat soyeṃtse pratsākaine tsopalle ‘a sliver of acacia or human bone [is] to be stuck in the breast of the effigy’ (M-3b4). +∎(As if) from PIE *proty-(h₃)ōk^w-eh_a- which, except for the ending, is the exact equivalent of Greek prósōpon ‘face’ [: Sanskrit prátīka- ‘face’ (< *proti-h₃k^w-o-)]. For the semantic relationship one might compare Lithuanian añtis ‘breasts’ but Gothic endi ‘forehead’ or Greek stérnon ‘breast’ beside OHG stirne ‘forehead.’ So Schulze, 1927, VW:389, MA:191. +See also ek. +

+ + +
+

+prahati +(n.) +‘Solanum indicum Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[prahati, -, -//] +(W-17b4). +∎From BHS bṛhati-. +

+ + +
+

+prahar* +(n.) +‘a three-hour time-period; a watch’
+[-, -, prahar//] +(553b3). +∎From BHS prahara-. +

+ + +
+

+prākarṣik +(adj.?) +‘± excellent’
+(175b2). +∎From a BHS *prākarṣika- or *prakarṣika- (neither in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+prākre +(adj.) +‘fixed, firm, hard, solid’
+[m: prākre, -, prakreṃ//] [f: prakarya, -, -/prakaryane, -, -/] +prākre = BHS dṛḍham (11a7), se pilko ste prākr=enku ‘this insight has been firmly grasped’ (23b4), prakreṃ nwalñesa ‘with a strong roar’ (51b8), [kinna]re prākre kläntsaññi ‘the kiṃnara slept soundly’ (109b5), pärkäre täṅ prākre ‘long, steadfast love’ (258a4), ṣi[m mā] prākre aipu no iścemtsa ... mā yāmu ‘but the roof [is] not strongly covered; [it is] not made of clay’ (A-2a5), [waś]īrsa prakre ‘stronger than a thunderbolt’ (AMB-a2). + -- prakrauñe ‘firmness, strength’: ///prakrau mā prakrawñemeṃ = BHS asāraṃca hy asārataḥ (U-17b2); +
+prakrauñetstse* ‘± firm, strong, steadfast’: (523a5). +∎Etymology uncertain. TchA prākär and B prākre reflect PTch *prākre but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. VW (390) suggests that we have in *prākre a reflex of PIE *perk-/prek- ‘fill’ [: Sanskrit pṛṇákti (pṛñcáti/ pipárkti) ‘fills, gives abundantly; mixes,’ Middle Irish ercaim ‘fill’ (P:820)]. Semantically such an equation is satisfying enough (*‘full’ [therefore] ‘firm’) but the genesis of a lengthened-grade *prōk-ro- remains mysterious. The same problem arises if we start from *b^herǵ^h- ‘high’ (MA:210). More likely is a derivation from a PIE *b^hrak- ‘squeeze together, make firm’ [: Middle Irish barc ‘storm, fury,’ Latin farciō ‘feed, fatten,’ Greek phrássō (< *b^hrakye/o-) ‘fill quite full, close, push together, make a fence around’ (P:110-111; MA:450-451)]. +

+ + +
+

+prātimokṣ* +(n.) +‘(Buddhist) monastic code of conduct’
+[-, -, prātimokṣ//] +k_use ṣamāne prā[ti]mokṣ po añmtsa mā klyauṣäṃ ‘whatever monk doesn't listen with all his soul to the prātimokṣa’ (H-149.X.3b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]). + -- prātimokṣäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the prātimokṣa’ (H-149.X.5a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]); +
+prātimokṣä-sūtär ‘the prātimokṣa-sūtra’ (H-149.X.3a3 [ibid.:48]) +∎From BHS prātimokṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+prāntakoṭi +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘extreme’
+(591b1). +∎From BHS prāntakoṭika-. +

+ + +
+

+prāp +(n.) +‘jewel’
+[prāp, -, -//prapanma, -, -] +(K-T). + -- prāp-mahur ‘diadem’: prāp-mahur āssa tässāte ‘he set the diadem on [his] head’ (109a5). +∎From BHS prabhā- ‘light, splendor’ (VW:638). Cf. TchA prop ‘id.’ +

+ + +
+

+prāpti* +(n.) +‘occurrence’
+[-, -, prāpti//] +(181b1). +∎From BHS prāpti-. +

+ + +
+

+Prābhāse +(n.) +‘Prabhāsa’ (PN of a king)
+[Prābhāse, -, -//] +(228a2). +

+ + +
+

+prām- +(vt.) +‘± restrain, hold back’
+Ko. IX /prāmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. prāmäs(t)si] +[tu-yparwe we]ñ[a] piś toṃ ślo[kanma entse]ṣṣeṃts rsercents e[nepre] palsko kantwa prāmässiś ‘therefore he spoke these five ślokas before the envious and hateful ones [in order] to restrain [their] spirit[s] and tongue[s]’ (18a2/3). +∎TchB prām- is closely related to Latin premere (preterite pressī, participle pressus) ‘press down, press upon, squeeze’ (VW:390). Given the semi-suppletive preterite and participle, the morphological division underlying the Latin forms must be pr-em-/pr-es- or pr-et- with *-em- being an élargissement with durative meaning added to *per- ‘strike’ [: Greek peírō ‘pierce,’ OCS na-perjǫ ‘id.’] (Ernout and Meillet, 1967:533-534). The same analysis of *prem- must of course be historically true of Tocharian prām- as well (MA:450). The PIE *-em- is presumably the same as is to be seen in ṣäm-, and käm-, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+prāri* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘finger’
+[-, -, prāri//-, -, praroṃ] +prāri raso pokai wat lauke ykuwa ‘having come out a finger['s worth], an ell, or an arm['s worth]’ (41b4/5), ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne t[u pra]rontsa yaṣtär .... [krāke] läṃn-ne ‘[if] desires arise in the mind of a monk and his shame-place [= penis] stands tall and he excites it with [his] fingers and filth emerges’ (334a7-10), śtwāra praroṃ pañäktemeṃ menki ṣai ‘he was lacking [in height] four fingers’ (H-149.X.4b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +‣Since a nominative singular is not attested, it is possible that it is *prariye rather than the *prāri given above and by Krause and Thomas. + -- prāriññe* ‘prtng to (a) finger(s)’: [pe]kweṃ prāriññan[a] ‘finger rings’ (116a4); +
+prārñe* ‘id.’: [pe]kw[eṃ] prārña (242b1). +∎TchB prāri has as its closest relative A prār (plural prāru) which are reflexes of putative PIE *p(e)reh_aru- (for TchA) and *p(e)reh_aru- h₁(e)n- (for TchB), the latter extended by the "definitizing" *-h₁en- (see Adams, 1988d). The (acc.) singular prāri reflects full-grade *p(e)reh_aruh₁enṃ (with regular loss of final *-n in non-animate nouns, while the (acc.) plural reflects zero-grade *p(e)reh_aruh₁enṇs (the resultant -o- has been extended to the nominative). I take the underlying (and TchA) *p(e)rāru to be PIE *p(e)reh_a-r-u-, a neuter nomen agentis in *-ṛ, extended, as is usually the case in Tocharian by -u-. Similarly VW (1970a:166-7, 1976:390), though he starts from a nominal *per-ōr. +See Further s.v. prere. +

+ + +
+

+prāśnike +(n.) +‘arbiter, director’
+[prāśnike, -, -//] +(G-Su33). +∎From BHS prāśnika- (see Pinault, 1987:151). +

+ + +
+

+prāśśäṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘question’
+[-, -, prāśśäṃ//] +ce prāśśäṃ pepärkoṣ ‘having asked the question’ (588a7). +∎From BHS praśna-. +

+ + +
+

+pränk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘stay away; restrain oneself’; K ‘keep away, reject’
+G Ps. III /pränke-/ [MP -, -, pränketär//]; Ko. V /pränkā-/ [Inf. pränkātsi]; +
+K Ps. IXb /pränkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, prankäst, prankäṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [AOpt. prankäṣṣim, -, -//]; Pt. II /prānkā-/ [A -, prānkasta, -]; PP /pepränko-/ +wertsiyaimeṃ pränketrä ‘he is to stay away from the assembly’ (14a2); /// [po pre]śya[n]ne pränkātsi mā ṣpä preke (279a2=281b2); ompalskoññe päst prankäṣṣäṃ natknaṃ lauke aiśamñe yarke peti ñaṣtär ‘he rejects meditation and pushes afar wisdom; he seeks honor and flattery’ (33b2/3), purwar ce pinwāt mā nai ñakta prankäs[t]-me ‘enjoy the alms; do not, O lord, keep us [from thee]!’ (107b1); lykaśkeṃ rano yolaiñe po prankäṣṣim kärtsauñe [ṣek ritoymar] ‘may I reject every least evil and seek always the good’ (S-5a1); sankameṃ pepranku ‘kept away from the community’ (329b1). +∎AB pränk- reflect PTch *pränk- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. It is possible that *pränk- is from a late PIE breng^h- ‘press, squeeze,’ otherwise seen only in Germanic [: Gothic anapraggan ‘trouble, oppress,’ Middle Low German prangen ‘press,’ Middle High German phrengen ‘oppress,’ Old Swedish prang ‘narrow street,’ English prong] (so Krause, 1955:13, VW:390) or *brenk- ‘id’ seen in Old Norse branga ‘clamp’ or Lithuanian brankà ‘swelling (of seeds).’ Equally good phonologically and equivalent semantically would be a connection of the Tocharian word with Lithuanian spriñgti ‘to choke, become choked, obstructed,’ spreñgti (tr.) ‘to press into a small place, squeeze, close or tighten [a door or gap],’ Latvian sprañgât ‘to lace up, constrict,’ OCS -pręgǫ ‘strain, stretch, tighten’ (MA:644). If the Tocharian is to be connected here with either, we would have a semantic development something on the order of ‘press’ > ‘press away.’ Also possible but less likely is Jasanoff's connection (1978:40) with Sanskrit bhraṃś- ‘fall,’ earlier ‘fall away from, be removed from’ (RV 10.173.1 mā tvát rāṣṭrám adhi bhraśat ‘die Herrschaft soll dir nicht entfernen’). In this case we have a semantically sound equation but it seems that the nasal in bhraṃś- is analogically, though anciently, introduced. The obvious relatives of the Indic word in Iranian and Slavic show no trace of any nasal (see Mayrhofer's discussion, 1963:536). Thus Jasanoff's equation loses its phonological cogency. +See also prenke. +

+ + +
+

+pränkarac +See prankaräc. +

+ + +
+

+präthagjaññe* +(n.) +‘the state of the unenlightened’
+[-, -, präthagjaññe//] +(107b10). +∎An abstract built on the BHS pṛthagjana-. +

+ + +
+

+pränts- +(vi.) +‘spatter’
+Ps. I /pränts-/ [A -, -, prantsäṃ//; MPImpf. -, -, präntsitär//] +[ku]ñci[t] kuñcit mīsa prantsäṃ toṃ nraintane ‘sesame-[sized piece by] sesame[-sized piece his] flesh spattered in those hells’ (18b5/6), tā_u onkorñ[ai] srañciyeṃ tappre kauś yey mā no nta totka rano parna präntsitär ‘they boiled the porridge and it went up high but not even a little spattered outside’ (107a1). +‣Though related to pärs- ‘pour,’ the meaning is not the same (pärs- is transitive and takes liquids as its direct objects while pränts- is intransitive and takes solids or semi-solids as its subjects) and thus it is not simply another present to pärs- as is usually assumed. +∎In origin a nasal-infix present stem to PIE *pers- ‘pour,’ i.e. (as if) *pṛn(e)-s (MA:540)-. +See further s.v. pärs-. +

+ + +
+

+präśnavarṇi +See pṛśnaparṇi. +

+ + +
+

+pritaväṣ +See prativiṣ. +

+ + +
+

+priyanku +(n.) +‘Aglaia roxburghiana Miq.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[priyanku, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS priyangu-. +

+ + +
+

+Priyadeve +(n.) +‘Priyadeva’ (PN of a rich man)
+[Priyadeve, -, Priyadeveṃ//] +(375a4). +

+ + +
+

+Priyavārg* +(n.) +‘Priyavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Priyavārg//] +(S-3a1). +

+ + +
+

+priyasu(-) +‘?’
+priyasu/// (623a3). +

+ + +
+

+Priyaśāriṇi +(n.) +‘Priyaśāriṇi’ (PN of a woman)
+[Priyaśāriṇi, -, -//] +(516a1). +

+ + +
+

+Priśka +(n.) +‘Priśka’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Priśka, Priśkantse, -//] +(461a1). +

+ + +
+

+pruk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘± make a leap; get away from’; K (Middle) ‘overlook, neglect’
+G Ps. VI /pruknā-/ [MP -, -, pruknātär// -, -, pruknāntär]; Pt. Ia /prukā-/ [A -, -, prūka//]; "Intensive" Pt. (Pt. VII) /pruśiyā-/ [A -, -, pruśiya//] +ṣemeṃts käryāñ pruknānträ räskre māka tsärkalyi ‘the hearts of some [scil. the sick and dying] are bounding and they are very heavily tormented’ (H-149.14a4 [Hilmarsson, 1996:100]); kārre ṣai su śarabhe-luwo eṣke [sic] pruka Brahmadatte wa[lo klāya] ‘there was a pit; while the śarabha-animal leapt [it], king B. fell’ (358a3). +∎TchB pruk- reflects PTch *pruk- (presumably with rebuilt zero-grade [cf. Adams, 1978]) from PIE *(s)preug- [: Russian prygnutь ‘leap,’ prygatь ‘jump about, jump up and down,’ Old Norse frauki ‘frog,’ Old English frogga id., and probably Lithuanian sprūgti ‘leave, escape;’ or Old Norse froskr, Old English frosc/forsc, Modern German Frosch ‘frog,’ if deverbative from *prug-sḱe/o- (P:845-846; MA:323)] (Couvreur, 1950:130, Krause and Thomas, 1960:58, VW:392). +See also emprukṣo. +

+ + +
+

+pruccamñe* +(n.) +‘superiority, excellence’
+[-, -, pruccamñe//] +alyekepi pruccamñene kälpau wīna ‘pleasure achieved in the excellence of another’ (286a4), ñake ciśiś päkwalñesa weskem totka śātresa pruccamñe yamalle ṣait māka allonkna sankrāmntane [sic] pru[ccamñe yāmu] /// ‘now to thee we say in confidence, with little grain thou shouldst achieve excellence; in many other communities having achieved excellence ...’ (TEB-74-5). +∎Etymology unclear. TchB pruccamñe (TchA pruccamñe is an obvious borrowing from B) is an abstract noun built on a putative *pruccamo ‘excellent’ which appears (also obviously borrowed from B) in TchA. *Pruccamo would appear to be a deverbal adjective from prutk-, q.v., built on a thematic present (cf. the Class III present of prutk-). Winter (1961:272) suggests that the meaning ‘excellent’ derives from the notion of *‘complete, perfect,’ in turn derived from *‘filled to the limit’ which is a possibility but no more than such. +See also prutk-. +

+ + +
+

+prutk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be stopped up, confined, shut out; be filled (to overflowing)’; K ‘shut up, confine, cut off; fill up; encircle’
+G Ps. III /prutke-/ [MP -, -, prutketär// -, -, prutkentär; MPPart. prutkemane]; Ko. V /prutkā-/ [MP -, -, prutkātär// -, -, prutkāntär; MPOpt. -, -, prutkoytär//]; Pt. Ia /prāutkā-/ [A // -, -, prautkar]; Pt. Ia /prutkā-/ [A // -, -, prutkāre]; PP /prutko-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /prutkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A prutkaskau, -, prutkäṣṣäṃ// -, -, prutkäskeṃ; Ger. prutkäṣṣälle]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [Inf. prutkästsi]; Ipv. I /prutkā-/ [MPSg. prutkar]; Pt. II /prāutkā-/ [A -, -, prautka//]; PP /peprutku-/ +prutkenträ ... prutk[eträ] = BHS nirudh- (156b1), [ñem-ersnaṃ]ts prutkālñemeṃ ṣkas yälloñ prutke[nträ] ‘the six senses are shut off from the suppression of name and form’ (156b2); [akn]ātsaṃñ[e] prutkātär ‘ignorance will be shut up’ (569a1), [ṣkas] y[ä]lloñ kr_ui prutkāntä[r] ‘if the six senses are confined’ (569a3); śwāra kälymiṃ po prautkar ner-mi[t]eṃ [p]oyśintasa ‘the four directions were filled by images of buddhas’ (108b6); [t]o[y] aśiyana parna rīsa prutkāre ‘these nuns were shut out of the city’ (PK-AS-18B-a1 [Pinault, 1984b:376]); prutkauwa po klokaśśi ‘all pores [are] stopped up’ (9a6); [swā]säskau keṃtsa tsainwāṣṣai l[ā]ñsa kälymiṃ prutkaskau [sic] ‘I rain over the earth with a flood of weapons and I fill [it] up [in all] directions’ (93b4), olyapotse māka śeśu kor āsäṣṣäṃ arañc ñuskaṣṣäṃ ... auloṃ prutkäṣṣäṃ ‘having eaten too much it dries the throat, depresses the heart and plugs up the vessels [of the body]’ (ST-a1); karuṇaṣṣe tronk prutk[a]r ‘shut up/encircle the hollow of pity!’ (TEB-64-08); prautka pelene ‘he locked [him] up in prison’ (21a4), [yke]-postäṃ prautka ramt ost cau po yolaiṃ weresa ‘afterwards he filled up the whole house with an evil smell’ (42b6), p[r]ākre satāṣñe anāṣñe aṣkār prautka ‘he kept firmly in [his] exhalation and inhalation’ (115a2). +‣The (single) contexts of the two preterites of the Grundverb suggest that the two are semantically differentiated: prāutkā- being ‘were filled’ and prutkā- being ‘were confined.’ + -- prutkālñe ‘confinement; suppression [of pain/feeling]’: läklentse prutkālyñene ynūca oktatsa klyomña ytārye ‘the noble, eightfold way leading to the suppression of suffering’ (154a4), prutkālñemeṃ = BHS nirodhāt (156b2). +∎AB prutk- reflect PTch *p(ä)rutk- (presumably with rebuilt zero-grade [cf. Adams, 1978]). I think it likely that we have here an example of the same (intensifying?) prefix *p(ä)- (that we can see in plänk- and pyutk-) and -rutk-. This -rutk- is etymologically identical with rutk- ‘move away, remove’ (q.v.) though the prefixed derivative *pä-rutk- better preserves the apparently original meaning ‘keep away, hold away’ seen in Sanskrit rudh- and its derivatives (note that prutk- often enough serves as the translation of Sanskrit ni-rudh-). Less likely, it seems to me, is VW's derivation from a putative PIE *(s)preud^h-sḱe/o-, otherwise appearing only in Baltic [: Lithuanian spráusti ‘thrust, foist; push, press [as into a crowd],’ Latvian spraûst ‘stick in,’ sprûst ‘squeeze’] (VW:392-393). +See also prautke, probably pruccamñe and, more distantly, rutk- and possibly pränk-. +

+ + +
+

+preutke +See prautke. +

+ + +
+

+prek- +See pärk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+preke +(nm.) +(a) ‘time, (appropriate) occasion’; (b) cew preke = tā_u preścyaine = ‘at that time, then’; (c) snai preke = ‘unseasonable’
+[preke, -, preke//-, -, prekeṃ] +(a) [śa]nmausa śānmyatai prākre twe pärkreṃ prekentsa ‘thou wert bound fast with bonds for a long time’ (83a2), carit päs pyāmtso preke päs ste ... kakoṣṣe [lege: kakoṣṣi] śwer meñi päs arāre ‘do [this] calculation! the time is past; the four months of invitation have ended!’ (331b5), walo ṣey tane Jaṃbudvipne nauṣ preke ‘there was a king here in J. [at] an earlier time’ (372b1), preke = BHS kāla (547a4), pärkareṃ prekentsa ‘for long periods of time’ (562a3), istak wat prekesa yāmormeṃ ‘or made immediately for the occasion’ (FS-b4), [in Manichean script] k’tkv brygyy = kätko preke (Winter/Gabain:12); +
+(b) okonta lwāsa [śwoyeṃ ce]w preke ‘the animals [at] that time were eating fruit’ (3b1); (c) snai preke yenti tsenkanträ snai preke suwaṃ ṣpä swesi ‘unseasonable winds arise and unseasonable rains rain’ (K-8b2). + -- prekeṣṣe ‘timely’ (?): tsänkāstā kreṃt prekeṣṣeṃ tsänkoṣäṃ ceṃ pūdñäkteṃ npā [sic] krente_unāsa ṣemaikne nest (273a4). +∎(As if) from PIE *b^hroḱo- ‘instant, blink of an eye’ similar to the *b^hroḱwo- that lies behind Gothic *brahw (in the phrase on brahwa augins = Greek en ripẽ ophthalmoũ) [: Old Norse augnabragδ] ‘moment,’ brjā ‘illuminate’ (< *brehōn), etc. (P:141-142)] (VW:391). +See also possibly prentse. +

+ + +
+

+prekṣalle* +(n.) +‘trial’ (?) ‘court’ (?)
+[-, -, prekṣalle//] +prekṣallen[e] wayāre-ne prekṣentaṃ weñāre ‘they led him into the trial/court and the judges spoke’ (H-149-ADD.12b1 [Thomas, 1967:26, fn. 35]). +∎A derivative of pärk-¹, q.v. +See also prekṣātstse and prekṣenta*. +

+ + +
+

+prekṣātstse +(n.) +‘± questioner’
+[prekṣātstse, -, -//] +ṣamānentse prekṣātstse mā mäskeṣle [lege: mäskelle] ste ‘he [is] not to become the questioner of the monk’ (331b1). +∎A nomen agentis from pärk-¹, q.v. +See also prekṣenta*. +

+ + +
+

+prekṣenta* +(n.) +‘judge’
+[//prekṣentañ, -, -] +prekṣallen[e] wayāre-ne prekṣentaṃ weñāre ‘they led him into the trial/court and the judges spoke’ (H-149-ADD.12b1 [Thomas, 1967:26, fn. 35]). +∎A nomen agentis from pärk-¹, q.v. +See also prekṣātstse. +

+ + +
+

+prenke* +(n.) +‘island’
+[-, -, prenke//prenki, -, prenkeṃ] +lyam samudrä yaitu prenke[n n]aum[y]e[ntasa] ‘the sea [is] an ocean decorated with islands and jewels’ (242a5), snai prenke takoy sa kenä ... po wars=ite ‘the earth was without island and full of water’ (407a5/6). +∎TchA prank and B prenke reflect PTch *prenke but further connections are uncertain. Formally it would be easy to see prenke as a thematic, o-grade derivative, of which there are so many in Tocharian, of pränk- ‘stay away; keep away.’ A semantic development *‘something that keeps away’ > *‘obstruction’ > ‘island’ would seem to be possible, especially in an area such as the Tarim Basin, where islands are low, shifting bars of sand and gravel in rivers (so Krause and Thomas, 1960:68). A similar semantic development is to be seen in English (sand-, gravel-)bar. For the form, compare also Lithuanian brankà ‘swelling (of seeds).’ VW (387) objects to this etymology on semantic grounds and would prefer to connect prenke with Old Norse brekka ‘escarpment’ and English brink (all reflecting derivatives of a putative PIE *b^hreng-), seeing ‘island’ as a semantic development of *‘hill, escarpment.’ As a parallel he notes the descendants of Proto-Germanic *hulma- (< PIE *kel- ‘raise high’ [: Old Saxon holm ‘hill,’ but Old English holm ‘island; wave, sea,’ Old Norse holmr ‘small island,’ etc.]. But ‘something elevated’ would seem to be a better designation of a maritime island than one formed by the shifting stream of an inner Asian river. +

+ + +
+

+prete* +(n.) +‘ghost, malevolent spirit’
+[//preti, preteṃts, preteṃ] +[lwā]sa preteṃne yśāmna [yñakteṃ cmel] källoyeṃ ‘may they achieve birth in [the form of] animals or ghosts, under men or gods’ (25a3), [ālye]wce-misāśañ lwāsā pretenne ‘[they are] cannibals [lit: eating the flesh of one another] among animals and pretas’ (573a2). + -- preteṣṣe* ‘prtng to a preta’ (154b5); +
+pretenṣe ‘prtng to pretas’ (554b6). +∎From BHS preta-. +

+ + +
+

+preṃtsa +(adj.) +(a) ‘pregnant [of a woman]’; (b) ‘potent [of a man]’
+[m: preṃtsa, -, -//] +(a) preṃtsa mäskeṃträ ‘she becomes pregnant’ (W-33a6); +
+(b) tso staukkanatär-me śle yasar kalträ klainats preṃtsa ynāñm yamasträ ‘their penis[es] swell and stand with blood; it becomes [ie. they become] worthwhile and potent to women’ (FS-b5). +∎(As if) an old present participle to PIE *b^her- ‘bear, carry,’ e.g. *b^herontyeh_a-, generalized to both men and women. For meaning and etymology, see K. T. Schmidt, 1975:294-5. +See also pär-. +

+ + +
+

+prentse +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘instant’; (b) ṣe prentse = ‘instantly, in an instant’
+[prentse, -, -//] +(a) waiptā[yar rano lwasāntso tonak] auṣūwaṃts prentse yente käskan-me ‘[if,] however, the animals [are] dwelling separately, [then in] an instant the wind scatters them’ (46a7=47b6), +
+(b) śakātaṣṣa sā_u sälyye mkte [sic] warne nakṣtär ṣe prentse ‘as a the mark of a stick disappears instantly in water’ [ṣe prentse = BHS kṣipram] (3b7), sruka ṣe prentse [] nakūle temtsat[e] ‘he died and instantly he was [re-]born [as] a mongoose’ (42a6). +∎The obvious relationship of prentse with TchA prank ‘id.’ makes it extremely likely that prentse reflects an earlier *prenktse, a derivative of the PTch *prenke that must lie behind A prank. Extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are uncertain. VW (1941:101, 1976:387-388) would see in *prenke a PIE *b^hronḱo-, the nasalized equivalent of the *b^hroḱo- that underlies preke ‘time,’ q.v. The semantics of such an equation are attractive but the nasalization is otherwise unparalleled in the etymon of *b^hroḱo-. +See also possibly preke. +

+ + +
+

+prere +(nm.) +‘arrow’
+[prere, prerentse, prere//preri, -, prereṃ] +sraukaṃ ṣ temeñce prere ramtä kekarṣṣu ‘and he will die [as quickly] as an arrow [is] shot’ (14b4), pr[er]e = BHS akṣena- (16a7), [mā lkā]tsiś aittanka prere kärstauca ‘one who cuts of the arrow directed at not-seeing’ [prere = BHS śalya-] (27b3). +∎TchA pär (stem pärr-, cf. pärra-krase ‘distance of an arrow-shot’) and B prere reflect PTch *pärere- (< PIE *per-oro- or *per-ēro-), with TchA having assimilated the second syllable to the first, or (less probably) *päräre- (< PIE *per-ero-), with TchB having assimilated the second syllable to the third. Such an assumption (i.e. a single PTch formation and assimilation in one language or the other) seems preferable to VW's suggestion (361 [cf. also VW, 1941:101]) that we have reflexes of two PTch and two PIE forms. In any case the PTch word is a derivative of PIE *per- ‘pierce’ [: Greek peírō ‘pierce,’ perónē ‘pin, linchpin, rivet,’ Armenian heriwn ‘awl,’ OCS naperjǫ ‘pierce’ (P:816-817; but probably to be distinguished from *per- ‘bring, bear’; MA:228-229)]. If the Tocharian forms are descendants of *pärere- < *peroro-, they would be a nice match for Greek perónē, whether they are both built to different forms of an -r/n- derivative or whether they have the same PIE ancestor (*perono/eh_a- with assimilation of *-n- to -r- in Tocharian or *peroro/eh_a - with dissimilation of the second *-r- to -n- in Greek). If parna, q.v., is from PIE *perero/eh_a-, the second solution may be preferable. +See also prāri and -pere (s.v. akwam-pere). +

+ + +
+

+preściya ~ preściyo +(nf.) +‘time, occasion; season’ [tāw preścyaine = cew preke = ‘at that time’]
+[preściya ~ preściyo, -, preściyai//-, preściyaṃts, preściyaṃ] +allok nano preśyaine Śrāvastine mä[skītär] ‘at another time he found himself in Ś.’ (5b3), tane walke preśyantsa emp[e]lona akwatsana lkāṣṣäṃ nrainne läklenta ‘he sees through long ages the terrible and sharp sufferings in hell’ (19a1), [yne]śaññai preściyaiścä ‘to the present time’ (149b4), kätkausai preścīyaine ‘in a past time’ (359a5), yparwe preśyaine = BHS -pūrvakāla- (541al), ktsaitsñai preścyaine ‘in the time of old-age’ (K-5a6); -- +

+ + +
+

+-preścyaṣṣe +only in the compound po-preścyaṣṣe ‘prtng to all times’
+(TEB-58-20) +∎TchB preściya/preściyo is related to A praṣt (f.) ‘id.,’ reflecting PTch *preściyā- and *prestā- respectively. In PIE terms we have *prēst(i)yeh_a- and *prēsteh_a- (I assume vṛddhied derivatives here but PIE *-o- as the root vowel is also possible). As has long been seen (Holthausen, 1921:66, VW:388), these Tocharian words are the only close relatives of OHG frist (m./nt.) ‘period of time, interval,’ Old English first (m.) ‘id.’ (< *presti-) and Old Norse frest (nt.) ‘id.’ (< *prestom) whether or not there is any further relationship with *per- ‘hervor’ (P:811; MA:583). +See also possibly presto* or presno*. +

+ + +
+

+presto* or presno* +(n.) +‘time’ (?)
+[-, -, presnai (or prestai)//] +/// ̇tt ̇ śār wi praroṃ presnaisa /// (598b1), pres[n]ai /// (H-149- ADD.13a4). +∎If the correct reading is prestai (rather than presnai as usually supposed), then it is possible that we have here a word meaning ‘time’ and the exact morphological equivalent of TchA praṣt (f.) ‘time,’ discussed in -preścyaṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+pretsa +See preṃtsa. +

+ + +
+

+procer +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘brother’
+[procer, protri, protär//procera, protärñts, - (voc. procera)] +protärñts śnona ysentär ṣera tkātärñ ‘the wives of brothers are ravished, sisters and daughters [too]’ (2b7), mokoṃ protär ‘older brother’ (108a3), [Aśo]k[e] walo ṣañ protär Vitaś[okeṃmpa] ‘king Aśoka with his own brother V.’ (363a2). +∎That TchA pracar and B procer are the descendants of PIE *b^hréh_atēr [: Sanskrit bhrātar-, Old Persian brātar-, Latin frāter, Old Irish brāthair, Gothic brōþar, Old Prussian brōti, etc., all ‘brother’ (P:164-165; MA:84)] is universally accepted (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:927, VW:387) but the exact details are a matter of dispute. I take A pracar and B procer to reflect PTch *prǫcǫr with ǫ ... ǫ the regular outcome, via mutual rounding (cf. Adams, 1988c:21), of an earlier (PTch) *ā...e. The vowel of the nominative singular was subsequently extended throughout the paradigm. In TchB we have e in the final syllable, rather than the o that is regular from *ǫ, by analogy with other terms of relation such as pācer ‘father’ and ṣer ‘sister.’ (Since *ǫ and *e fall together as a in TchA, it is not possible to know whether this same analogical shift happened in the history of the latter language.) VW and Hilmarsson (1986:9) offer different accounts of the origin of the vowel of the first syllable. Finally, one should note that (nom.) procer and (acc.) protär match Latin frāter/frātrem perfectly from the morphological point of view. +See also omprotärtstse. +

+ + +
+

+proskiye ~ prosko +(nf.) +‘fear; danger’
+[proskiye ~ prosko, -, proskai//-, -, proskaiṃ] +/// proskaiṃ lkāṣṣäṃ wrotsana ‘he sees great dangers’ (14b4), mā śaula[ṣṣa] p[ro]sky=īwate ‘neither fear nor anxiety about life’ (20b7), pro[skai] = BHS bhayam (32b5), snai proskai ce_u [p]ūwarne yo[pasta] ‘thou didst enter into the fire without fear’ (368b2), lāma-ñ prosko ‘may my fear subside!’ (TEB-64-08). + -- proskaitstse* ‘± fearsome, dangerous’: (555a4); +
+proskaitsñe ‘± fear’: (541b7). +∎Along with TchA praski, B prosko/proskiye is a nomen actionis derived from pärsk-, q.v. (VW:388). In early PTch we would probably have found *preskā- (probably preserved in TchA praskañi ‘fearful’ with regular shortening of *-ā to -a- in a syllable following -ā- or -a-) and its "definite" byform extended by (PIE) *-h₁en- (cf. Adams, 1988d). The early nominative singular of this extended form, *preskaye would regularly have given *presko which, with o-umlaut, would have produced *prosko (so Hilmarsson, 1986:29). A restored nominative singular *proskaye would have given *proskiye, whence A praski and B proskiye (differently Hilmarsson). +

+ + +
+

+prautke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± closure; prison’
+[prautke, prautkentse, prautke//] +pre_utke wrottse entse me_u[ne] /// (145a8), tärkärwaṣṣe prewtkemeṃ ‘from the prison of clouds’ (514b5). +∎A derivative of prutk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+plakissu +See plāki. +

+ + +
+

+plaktukäñña +(n.) +‘female door-keeper’
+[plaktukäñña, -, -//] +tane plaktu[kä]ñña brāhmaṇeṃ lyelyakormeṃ kercīyenn[e] yopsa ... weṣṣäṃ ñakta alyek-ypoyṣi brāhmaṇi parna klyenträ ‘the door-keeper, seeing the brahmans, entered into the palace and says: Lord, foreign brahmans stand outside’ (81b3). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (376-377) suggests we start with a *plākätte ‘authorization, permission’ (cf. amplākätte ‘without asking authorization or permission’) + -uki (nomen agentis) + -ñña (feminine); thus ‘one asking for another's authorization or permission.’ Problematical, however, is the use of -uki here as it is otherwise attested as a nomen agentis only with derived verb stems (those ending in -s- or -sk-). +

+ + +
+

+-plankṣi +(n.) +‘seller’
+[ya]kwe-pläṅṣi /// ‘horse-seller’ (147.12). +∎A nomen agentis from plänk-, q.v. +See also -plänkṣiñña. +

+ + +
+

+plataṃkama* +See platäṃkamo*. +

+ + +
+

+platäṃkamo* +(n.) +‘ ± one who lies in ambush’ (?)
+[//-, -, platäṃkamoṃ] +enestaine platakaṃkamampa [] steyasaṃ yaṃ pāyti (330a5/b1). +‣enestaine platakaṃkama is glossed by Uyghur saweltyācilyrä which, in a contemporary transcription, would be something like säwildäčilär birlä[n] ‘with [birlän = -mpa] those who spread out.’ The Uyghur säwil-dä- (-či- is an agent suffix, -lär the nominal plural morpheme) is an intensive (in -dä-) of a derived intransitive verb (in -il-) which appears only once again (cf. Clausen, 1972:788-789), in the underived transitive form, meaning ‘spray (perfume).’ +∎In PIE terms the Tocharian verb represents *plōt(h₂)-sḱe/o-, a vṛddhied sḱe/o-present of *plet(h₂)- ‘spread, extend’ [: Sanskrit práthate ‘spreads, extends,’ Old Irish ledaid ‘spreads, extends,’ Welsh lledu ‘spread, extend,’ Lithuanian splečiù ‘widen, spread out,’ plėtóti ‘to expand,’ possibly TchAB plätk- ‘arise, develop, swell, overflow,’ and its widespread derived adjective *pḷth₂ús: Sanskrit pṛthú- ‘wide, broad,’ Avestan pərəθu- ‘id.,’ Greek platús ‘id.,’ Sanskrit práthas- (nt.) ‘breadth,’ Avestan fraθah- ‘id.,’ Greek plátos (nt.) ‘id.,’ Welsh lled ‘id.’ (< *pletos), etc. (P:833-34; MA:539)]. +See platkāre* and probably plätk- and platkye. +

+ + +
+

+platkāre* +(n.) +‘± rash’ (?)
+[-, -, platkāre//] +platkāre mäśśakene aṣiye śärselle se laiko ārkwi yamaṣäṃ ‘in [cases of] rash or jaundice goat's śärselle [is to be used]; this bath whitens’ (W-11a4/5). +∎A derivative of plātk- (see platäṃkamo*). +

+ + +
+

+platkye +‘?’
+/// platkye amokceṃ yonmäṃ (432a2). +∎Formally this word would appear to be a derivative of plātk-, q.v. but in the absence of any notion of its meaning, any such connection remains very uncertain. +

+ + +
+

+plāk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be in agreement/accord with’; K ‘agree’
+G Pt. Ib /plākā-/ [A -, -, plāka//]; +
+K Ps. VIII /plāks^'ä/_e-/ [AImpf. // -, -, plakṣiyeṃ]; Ko. I /plāk-/ [Inf. plāktsi]; Pt. III /plāk(sā)-/ [MP -, plāksatai, -//] +Pawaśke ece mlaṣe plaka ‘P. ... agreed’ (491a-III); [tā]w[mpa] māka onolmi plakṣiyeṃ ‘many beings agreed with her’ (592a3); /// pīto śem säswenäś plāktsi watkäṣṣäṃ (516a2); plāksatai-me kre ̇e ‘didst thou ask them [scil. thy parents] permission [to become a monk]?’ (KVāc.-19b4 [K. T. Schmidt, apud Hilmarsson, 1996:179]). +∎AB plāk- reflect PTch *plāk- from PIE *plak- ‘please,’ seen otherwise only in Latin placēre ‘to please, be agreeable to’ and plācāre ‘to soothe, calm, reconcile, appease’ (Meillet, 1914:14, VW:377; MA:205, 434). As VW points out, we have here a remarkable Latin-Tocharian semantic correspondence, whether or not the Latin and Tocharian words are further related to a group meaning ‘even, flat’ [: Greek pláks ‘flat surface; plate,’ etc.] (so P:831). +See also amplākätte, plāki, plāksar, and possibly plaktukäñña. +

+ + +
+

+plāki* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘permission, agreement’
+[-, -, plāki//] +se ṣamāne lykaṃ wārṣeṃmpa plākisa ytāri yaṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk goes [along] the road with thieves and robbers by agreement, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]), [sa]nkameṃ śtvārka [sic] yṣiṣṣe plāki yaskaskemar parna simtsa yatsi ‘from the community I seek permission to go for forty nights outside the border [of the country]’ (H-149-ADD.19b5 [Thomas, 1954:737]). + -- plākissu* ‘± agreeable’: [p]l[aki]ssoś aikoṣ kärso[ṣ ne]ścer ‘you are wise, knowledgable and agreeable’ (108a2). +∎A derivative of plāk-, q.v. (i.e. *plakmen-, note the morphophonological similarity with wāki from wāk-). +See also plāksar*. +

+ + +
+

+plāksar* +(n.) +‘± understanding, agreement’
+[-, -, plāksar//] +pañikte kä[ṣṣi] weñā-meś cisso kāśyapi aklaṣlyeṃ[m]pa plāksar ‘the Buddha teacher spoke to them: go, kāśyapas, [to] an under-standing with [your] pupils’ (108a2). +∎A derivative of the causative of plāk-, q.v. +See also plāki*. +

+ + +
+

+plāce +(nf.) +‘word, talk, speech; reply’
+[plāce, -, plāc//plāci, -, plātäṃ] +preksa ṣamāneṃ pudñäkte mäktā_u plācsa ṣmīcer yes ‘the Buddha asked the monks: for which speech are you sitting [and waiting]?’ (3a6), [tā_u] plāc klyauṣāre ‘they heard this word’ (25b7), [re]kauna plātäṃne inkauṃ wīna kallaṃ kästwer ṣpanene ‘by day they found pleasure [in] words and talks, by night in sleep’ (27a4), parso lywāwa-ś plāś aṣkār mā lywāsta ‘I sent a letter to thee but thou didst not send back a reply’ (492a3/4). +∎TchA plāc and B plāce reflect PTch *plāce. This *plāce is probably in Indo-European terms *b^h(e)l-eh_a-ti-, a ti-abstract built on an old subjunctive stem to päl- ‘praise,’ q.v. A *pälā- is the subjunctive we would expect beside the indicative *pälnā-, though even in PTch (to judge by the agreement of A and B) this subjunctive had been replaced by *pālā-. Such a derivation seems semantically and phonologically better than that offered by Holthausen (1921:66, also VW:378-9) whereby he relates *plāce to Greek phledōn (f.) ‘idle chatter’ and phlédōn (m/f.) ‘idle talker.’ VW sees *plāce as representing PIE *b^hlōden-. However, on the basis of pai-ne ‘feet’ (< dual PIE *pode + later -ne), we would expect *b^hlōden- to have given **plāy- and not plāc-. In any case Greek phledōn/phlédōn are usually, and no doubt rightly, taken as intra-Greek derivatives of phléō ‘teem with, abound in; babble’ (< *b^hleu-; so Frisk, 1970:1025). +See also aplāc and, more distantly, päl- and pälw-. +

+ + +
+

+plātk- +(vi.) +‘spread (out)’
+See platäṃkamo, platkāre, and possibly platkye. +

+ + +
+

+plānt- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘rejoice, be glad’; K ‘gladden, make glad, give pleasure to’
+G Ps. IV /plonto-/ [MP -, -, plontotär// -, -, plontontär; MPImpf. plontimar, -, -//]; Ko. V /plāntā-/ [Inf. plāntatsi]; Pt. Ib /plāntā-/ [A -, -, plānta//]; PP /pāplāntā-/; +
+K Ipv. IV /plāntäṣṣā-/ [MPSg. plāntaṣṣar] +ṣe yukalñeṣṣai ekṣalyīsa plontotär ‘one rejoices over a period of victory’ (591b3), kātkeṃ plontonträ ṣpäkka maiyya tsämsen-ne ‘they rejoice and are glad and they grow [in] strength’ (K-2b6); skwassu nesau paplāntau yes tallāñc läklessoñc ‘I am fortunate and rejoicing, you [are] suffering and in pain’ (31a2), weñau paplāntau ‘I will speak rejoicing’ (119b2); plāntaṣar-me palskonta ‘give pleasure to our spirits!’ (296al). +∎AB plānt- reflect PTch *plānt- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. VW (378) would connect plānt- with Latin splendēre ‘shine, glitter, be bright’ (< *spleh₁-nd-eh₁-, a denominative verb built on an old nominal formation [a gerund?] *spleh₁-ndo-), Old Irish léss ‘light’ (< *plh₁nd-tu-), and Middle Irish lainnech ‘shining’ (< *plh₁ndiāko-) (P:987 adds Old Lithuanian spléndžiu ‘illuminates’ but such a verb seems not to exist; MA:514). The Tocharian present might be from *ploh₁nd-h₁-ó-, the thematic derivative of the *-eh₁- denominatives (see the discussion, s.v. tapre). If so, of course, the connection with Latin splendēre is strengthened. The semantic development would be something on the order of ‘shining’ > ‘shining with joy’ > ‘joyful’ (cf. the history of English glad). +See also plānto. +

+ + +
+

+plānto +(n.) +‘joy, delight’
+[plānto, -, plānto//] +/// plānto mak[a ṣamā]ne = BHS prāmodyabahulo bhikṣur (TX-4-b7 [Thomas, 1974:91]). +∎A derivative of plānt-, q.v. TchA plānto is a borrowing from B. +

+ + +
+

+pläkk- +(vi.) +‘± enjoy’ (?)
+śwer meñtsa ka ṣamānentse kāko wärpanalle ste [] tusa olypotse ente pläkk ̇/// (331a2). +‣The corresponding section of the HMR manuscript has wärpatar [sic] where 331 has pläkk ̇. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+plänk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘come up for sale, be sold’; K ‘sell’
+G Ps. III /plänke-/ [MP -, -, plänketär//]; Ko. V /plänkā-/ [Inf. plänkātsi] (see above); Pt. I /plänkā-/ [A -, -, planka// -, -, plänkāre]; +
+K Ps. VIII /plänks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, plankṣäṃ//; MP plänksemar, -, -//; Ger. plänkṣalle]; Ko. II /plyänk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, plyañcäṃ//; Inf. plyañc(t)si]; Ipv. /peplyanke/; Pt. III /pl(y)enk(sā)-/ [A plenkwa, -, plyenksa ~ plenksa// -, -, plyenkare (cf. Couvreur, 1954c:90)]; PP /peplyanku-/ +Phalgoṇi karyor plänkātsisa kurkala pwarne hom yamaṣäle karyor plänketrä ‘[in the lunar mansion of] Phalguṇi in order to bring to sale the [goods for] sale a kurkala [is] to be put in the fire [as] an offering; the sale is made’ (M-1b9); pañikte pakenta kalwa wi 2 ṣe planka pissa 5 ‘the Buddha received two portions; one came up for sale at five’ (Rechn.-38.3 [Couvreur, 1954c:89]), pañikte pakenta kalwa wi 2 ṣkäsār plänkāre cāneṃntsa ‘the Buddha received two portions, each six sold for twelve cānes’ (Rechn.-35.15 [ibid.]); k_use ṣamāne karyor pito yamasträ olank kärnāsträ kwāts plankṣäṃ ‘whatever monk engages in buying and selling and buys cheaply and sells dearly’ (337b3), [kr_ui mā] ks=allek ñke ñi mlänkṣalle [lege: plänkṣalle] nesäṃ | ṣañ añm pläṅsemar ‘if by me there is no one else to sell, I will sell myself’ (64a6); ysāre rine plyasi [lege: plyañcsi] wāya Tonke ṣarmire śak cakaṃnma ‘the novice T. brought 10 cāks of wheat to sell in the city’ (Otani-018.9 [Couvreur, 1954c:90]); tau ysāre plen[k]wa (Krause, 1954:186). + -- plyañcälñe ‘± selling’: (K-T). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (378-379) derives B plänk- from a PIE *peln- seen in Lithuanian pel̃nas ‘profit, gain, earnings,’ pelnyti ‘to profit, gain,earn,’ OCS plěnъ ‘booty, plunder,’ Sanskrit paṇate ‘barters, purchases.’ The -k- then is the reflex of some sort of nominal suffix and plänk- itself is a denominative derivative thereof (so, with somewhat different details, MA: 185). However, there seem to be insuperable difficulties with such a view. First, as Greek pōléō ‘sell,’ OHG fāli ‘for sale,’ and Old Norse falr ‘id.’ surely belong here with pel̃nas, etc., it is clear that the -n- is suffixal (i.e. the present-stem forming -nh_a-). Second, no other IE group shows a nominal derivative in a velar and, in any case, there are no good examples of a denominative verb in Tocharian, except those ("factitives") in -eh_a- and denominatives in -ye/o-. +
+We might save VW's equation by taking the *-K- as an élargissement of the underlying *pel- (roots ending in *-l- seem to have attracted the élargissement *-g-, cf. English steal/stalk, tell/talk, or TchB päl-/pälw-/ pelke) but, if so, the -n- must represent a generalization of the present-forming n-infix and infixed presents in such cases (of *-l-g-) are otherwise unknown. +
+Therefore, it may be desirable to cast our net more widely. Semantically at least as attractive as VW's connection would be a comparison with Latin liceō ‘be on sale, be valued at.’ The Latin word might presuppose a PIE *leik- ‘id.’ which I think may be seen Sanskrit rik- ‘put up for sale’ (present riṇakti)--this is an equation that goes back to Grassmann--and Latvian līkstu/līku ‘come to an agreement,’ salīkstu ‘come to an agreement, conclude a bargain’ (with līk- reflecting Proto-Baltic *link-). In Sanskrit *leik- has become phonologically and morphologically indistinguishable from the semantically similar *leik^w- ‘let go.’ Similarly in Baltic *leik- ‘come up for sale’ has become intertwined with the descendants of *leig- ‘like, even’ (Lithuanian lygus and Gothic ga-leiks). So, beside Latvian līkstu we have līgstu ‘come to an agreement,’ Lithuanian lygstu ‘be similar,’ and lygti ‘bargain’ (further cognates P:669) +
+These words form a perfect match for B plänk- if the -n- of the latter is generalized from the attested n-infix present and the initial p- is the reflex of a former prefix. A PTch *p(ä)- could be from PIE *h₁(e)pi- ‘upon,’ *bhi- ‘by,’ or *h₄(e)po- ‘from, away.’ The latter is to be seen in the imperative prefix pe- or its unstressed variant pä- (cf. pest/päst). Cf. also pyutk- and prutk-. With only a little phonological legerdemain, we might even see in TchB plänk- the reflex of PIE *pṛlink-, the nasalized equivalent of Latin polliceor ‘offer, promise’ (MA:348-349). +See also plankṣi and plänkṣiñña. +

+ + +
+

+-plänkṣiñña * +(nf.) +‘seller’
+[//-plänkṣiññana, -, -] +(H-149.ADD.75b [K]). +∎A derivative of plankṣi. +

+ + +
+

+plätk- +(vi.) +‘arise, develop, swell, overflow’
+Ps. III /plyetke-/ [MPPart. plyetkemane]; Ko. I /pletk- ~ plätk-/ [A -, -, pletkäṃ//; AOpt. // -, -, placyeṃ]; Pt. III /pletk(sā)-/ [A // -, -, pletkar]; PP /plätkwe-/ +iñcew rekine arth plyetkemane ramt /// [a]rth plätku lkātär ‘in which word the sense, arising as it were ... the sense having arisen is seen’ (183b4/5); [k]ete no ṣletkäṃ [lege: pletkäṃ] karuṃ aiśamñe asaṃkyainta kalpanmaṣṣai lālyīs=aṣkār mā maukaṃ ‘in whomever sympathy and wisdom develop, by exertion through the unnumbered eons they will not subside again’ (591b6); klokastaṃnmeṃ ok-tmane pletkar-c ysāra ‘thy blood overflowed from eighty thousand pores’ (S-8a4); pernerñesa plätkweṣne tuṣitäṣṣe wimāṃne ‘in the tuṣita-palace, overflowing with splendor’ (231a2). +‣For a discussion of the exact meaning, see Melchert, 1977:118. +∎Etymology unclear. AB plätk- reflect PTch *plätk- but extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. Translating plätk- as ‘(s')avancer, saillir,’ Schneider (1941:48, also VW:379) connects this word with Sanskrit práthate ‘spreads, extends.’ Since the Sanskrit word also means ‘increase, arise,’ etc., this etymology remains possible even with the better specified meaning given here (after Melchert, 1977:119). In IE terms the Sanskrit verb represents *plet(h₂)-e/o- while the PTch would represent the corresponding -sḱe/o- derivative *pḷt(h₂)-sḱe/o- [: Sanskrit práthate ‘spreads, extends,’ Old Irish ledaid ‘spreads, extends,’ Welsh lledu ‘spread, extend,’ Lithuanian splečiù ‘widen, spread out,’ plėtóti ‘to expand,’ possibly TchB plātk- ‘spread (out),’ and its widespread derived adjective *pḷth₂ús:: Sanskrit pṛthú- ‘wide, broad,’ Avestan pərəθu- ‘id.,’ Greek platús ‘id.,’ Sanskrit práthas- (nt.) ‘breadth,’ Avestan fraθah- ‘id.,’ Greek plátos (nt.) ‘id.,’ Welsh lled ‘id.’ (< *pletos), etc. (P:833-34; MA:539)]. +
+Melchert, on account of plätk-'s meaning, would associate it with PIE *b^hel(h₁)- ‘swell; gush forth; blossom’ [: Greek phallós ‘penis,’ Latin follis ‘leather sack,’ Old Irish ball ‘member, part of the body,’ Latin flāre ‘blow,’ Greek paphlázō ‘bubble; splutter,’ and a very heterogeneous collection of other cognates (P:120-122)]. Militating against Melchert's suggestion is the very weak attestation of dental enlargements, amid a plethora of other extensions, to this root. +
+It should be noted that AB plätk- is semantically equivalent with A plutk- which suggests a PIE *PluT- with (in the case of A plutk-) and without (in the case of AB plätk-) a rebuilding of an old zero-grade (cf. Adams, 1978). If so, we might reconstruct *b^hleud- and relate this word to Grk phludáō ‘have an excess of moisture, overflow’ (MA:561), but the apparent relationship with plātk- makes the first alternative the better one, though we cannot the possibility that Tocharian plätk- is a conflation of PIE *plet- and *b^hleud-. +See also platkāre and possibly platkye-. +

+ + +
+

+plu- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘soar, fly up’; K ‘let fly’
+G Ps. I /plyew-/ [A -, - plyewäṃ//]; Pt. III /plyew(sā)-/ [A -, - plyewsa//]; +
+K Ko. IX /pl(y)uwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [AOpt. -, -, pluṣṣi//; Inf. plyus(t)si] +katkauñaisa arañce po nke plyewäṃ-ñ ‘out of joy my whole heart leapt’ (PK-17.3a5 [Couvreur, 1954c:85]); tusa k[akāc]cu ply[e]_usa su ke_ucä ñeñmu kektseñ yäprerne ‘thus rejoicing he soared high, bending [his] body in the air’ (365a3), ywārc wertsyaine plyews=iprerne msā-c ompostäṃ ‘[from] in the midst of the assembly he flew up and followed him’ (Pe-2a2); lkoym-c kr_ui ynemane ypauna kwṣainne ci pluṣṣi-ñ [sic] saksa palskw=ārañce ‘if I would see thee going through lands and villages by good fortune my heart would let my spirit fly to thee’ (246a1), aurce akāśne plyustsi ‘to let [it] fly in the broad sky’ (71a2). + -- pluwälyñe ‘soaring’: H-149.81b2 (Hilmarsson, 1991a:81). +∎AB plu- reflects PTch *plu- from PIE *pleu- ‘flow, float, swim, fly’ (see discussion at plus-). TchB plyew- reflects a lengthened-grade present, a putative *plēu-. Such a lengthened-grade present is probably a Tocharian innovation since an ē-grade is only very weakly attested elsewhere in IE (i.e. in Middle High German vlǟjen ‘wash, rinse, flush’). In TchA we have only a third person plural preterite plawar. +See also plus- and eplyuwai. +

+ + +
+

+plus- +(vi.) +‘fly, soar; float’
+Ps. VIII /plus^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, pluṣäṃ//]; Pt. Ia /pluṣā-/ [A -, -, pluṣa// -, -, pluṣar] +mentsiṣṣe samudtärne pluṣäṃ ‘it floated on the sea of suffering’ (282b3); katkomñaisa arañce pluṣā-ne ‘out of joy his heart soared’ (375b4), kr[e]nt śaumoṣ[ṣe] naumyempa eṣe śamtsi kälpāwa palkas sak ñī | pluṣar-ñ ‘I got to come with the good jewel of men; behold my joy! they fly to me’ (PK- 17.3b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:84]). +∎TchB plus- reflects PTch *plu- from PIE *pleu- ‘flow, float, swim, fly’ [: Sanskrit plávate ‘swims, flies,’ Greek pléō ‘ships, swims,’ Latin pluit ‘it's raining,’ Lithuanian pláuti ‘to wash,’ OCS pluti ‘to flow,’ etc. (P:835-837; MA:561)] (VW, 1941:96, 1976:377). The verb in TchB has been thoroughly rebuilt (with analogical zero-grade; see Adams, 1978) on the basis of a putative PIE present *plu-se/o- not otherwise attested in IE. +See also plu-, plewe, eplyuwai, and possibly plätk-. +

+ + +
+

+plewe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘raft’
+[plewe, -, plewe//] +ot wärsa plewe ra ken mai[wāte] ‘then the earth shook like a raft on the water’ (338b1), plewe = BHS kolam (U-12a1). +∎A derivative of plu-, q.v. From PIE plowó- [: Sanskrit plavá- (m.) ‘float, raft, boat,’ Russian plov ‘ship’ (P:836-837; MA:74)] (Boisacq, 1916:1121, VW:379). +

+ + +
+

+ploriyo* +(nf.) +‘a kind of musical wind-instrument, ± flute’
+[-, -, ploriyai// ploriyañ, ploriyaṃts, ploriyaṃ] +/// ploryai ṣarn[e] (383al), kalneṃ ploryaṃ tne pīyam lwāsa ‘the flutes (?) resound and the animals sing’ (589a6), māka kerunta wrakaiṃ keraṃts ploriyaṃts newe klyauṣträ ‘the noise of many drums, conchs, keras, and flutes is heard’ (PK-NS.772+AS-17Ka3/4 [Pinault, 1993-94:189]), śarka ploriyaisa yarke yamṣasta ‘thou didst render honor with lute and flute’ (Qumtura-34d5 [Pinault, 1993-94:176]). +∎With the meaning established fairly firmly as a kind of wind instrument, Pinault (1993-94) is surely right in seeing this word as a reflect of PIE *b^hleh₁- ‘blow.’ Perhaps we have a virtual *b^hloh₁-ru-yeh_a-. Not with VW (379) a derivative of the same PIE *b^hel- ‘speak forcefully’ seen in päl-, and pälw-, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+plyakwa +(n.pl.) +‘?’
+ṣaraiṃ lypakwa [lege: plyakwa?] sronkiṃ/// (522a6), ///nta plyakwa akṣträ sū (587b5). +

+ + +
+

+plyenkwātstse +(adj.) +containing some foodstuff (perhaps a legume)
+[m: plyenkwātstse, -, -//] +plyenkwātse yuṣ śwalle ‘a soup of plyenkwa [is] to be eaten’ (P-1b4). +

+ + +
+

+pwenta +See puwe. +

+ + +
+

+pśatse(-) +‘?’
+/// kärsanalye cau pśatse/// (190a4). +

+ + +
+

+ptsa, ptsāñ +See patsa². +

+ + +
+

+ptsak* +(n.) +‘blink, blinking’
+[-, -, ptsak//] +läklessoñc lkāṣyeṃ poyśiṃ snai pts[ak] ‘the suffering ones looked at the Buddha without blinking’ (45a3), akālkäcce pilkosa snai ptsak yakṣaṃ [sic] lk[ā]skema[ne] ‘looking at the yakṣas with a hopeful look without blinking’ (101al). +∎Etymology unclear. TchA ptsäk and B reflect PTch *ptsäk but extra-Tocharian cognates are unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (394) who connects it with a PIE *d^heug- ‘hide.’ +

+ + +
+

+phalalakṣaṃ* +(n.) +‘± sign of result’
+[-, -, phalalakṣaṃ//] +(197b3). +∎From BHS *phalalakṣaṇa- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+phalasaṃpat +(n.) +‘success, prosperity’ (?)
+(182b1). +∎If from BHS phalasampad-. +

+ + +
+

+Phalgoṇi* +(n.) +designation of a lunar mansion
+[-, -, Phalgoṇi//] +Phalgoṇi karyor plänkātsisa kurkala pwarne hom yamaṣäle karyor plänketrä ‘[in] Phalguṇi: to bring to sale the [goods for] sale, a kurkala [is] to be put in the fire [as] an offering; the sale is made’ (M-1b9). +∎From BHS phalgunī-. +

+ + +
+

+Baḍi +(n.) +‘Baḍi’ (PN of an asura)
+[Baḍi, -, -//] +(76b2). +

+ + +
+

+bal(ā) +(n.) +‘Sida cordifolia Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[balā ~ bal, -, balā ~ bal//] +bal = BHS balā (Y-2b4). +∎From BHS balā-. +

+ + +
+

+bahudantāk* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 25 syllables (rhythm 5/5/8/7)
+[-, -, bahudantāk//] +(521a5, AMB-b1). +

+ + +
+

+bahupayik* +(n.) +the name of a meter
+[-, -, bahupayik//] +(G-Qm1.1). +

+ + +
+

+bahuprahār* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 25 syllables (rhythm 5/5/8/7)
+[-, -, bahuprahār//] +(108a3). +

+ + +
+

+bahuśrut +([indeclinable?] adj.) +‘learnèd’
+///ār pilykār cwi kavvintse bahu[ś]ru/// (429b2). +∎From BHS bahuśruta-. +

+ + +
+

+Bārāṇasi* +(n.) +‘Benares’ (PN of a city)
+[-, -, Bārāṇasi//] +(25b7, 112a3). + -- bārāṇiṣṣe* ‘prtng to Benares’ (349b5). +

+ + +
+

+bāl* +(n.) +‘(magical) power’
+[//balanma, -, -] +[mā] āgatänta mā śantinma balanma ‘neither medicines, nor spells, nor powers’ (46b3). +∎From BHS bala-. +

+ + +
+

+bāhye* +(n.) +‘heretic’
+[//bāhyi, -, -] +(108a2). +∎From BHS bāhya-. +

+ + +
+

+biḍāri +(n.) +‘Batatas paniculata Choisy’ (a medical ingredient)
+[biḍāri, -, -//] +(W-7a5). +∎From BHS viḍārī- (var. viḍālī-). +

+ + +
+

+Bimbasāre* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Bimbasāra’ (PN of a king)
+[-, -, Bimbasāreṃ//] +(22a1). +

+ + +
+

+bilamati +See pilamatti. +

+ + +
+

+buddhavacaṃ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘containing the Buddha's voice’
+(S-2a5, S-6a2). +∎From BHS bhuddhavacana-. +

+ + +
+

+buddhotpatäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘± prtng to the Buddha's origin’
+[m: -, buddhotpatäṣṣepi, -//] +(586a3). +∎From BHS *buddhotpatti- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+bṛhati +(n.) +‘Solanum indicum Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[bṛhati, -, -//] +(P-1a4). +∎From BHS bṛhatī-. +See also prahati. +

+ + +
+

+bodhapakṣik* +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘prtng to enlightenment’
+(51b7). +∎From BHS bhodhipākṣika- +

+ + +
+

+Bodhe +(n.) +‘Boddha’ (PN)
+[Bodhe, -, Bodheṃ//] +(123b4). +

+ + +
+

+bodhisātve +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘bodhisattva [i.e., Buddha to be]’
+[bodhisātve, bodhisātvententse, bodhisātveṃ//bodhisātvi, bodhisātveṃts, bodhisātveṃ] +bodhisatwentse kakraupauwa snai keśä yāmornta krenta ‘numberless good deeds gathered by the bodhisatva’ (K-11b2). + -- bodhisātväññe ‘prtng to a bodhisatva’ (346b3). +∎From BHS bodhisattva-. +

+ + +
+

+bodhyānk* +(n.) +‘element of enlightenment’
+[//bodhiyankänta, -, -] +(588b7). + -- bodhyānkäṣṣe* ‘prtng to an element of enlightenment’ (104b2=S-1b1) +∎From BHS bodhyanga-. +

+ + +
+

+bauddhe* +(n.) +‘± something/someone pertaining to the Buddha’ (?)
+[//bauddhi, bhauddheṃts, -] +(187a1, 425b1). +∎From BHS bauddha-. +

+ + +
+

+bram- +See bra(h)m-. +

+ + +
+

+Brahasvati +(n.) +‘Bṛhaspati’ (PN of a god)
+[Brahasvati, -, -//] +(76a4). +

+ + +
+

+bra(h)m * +(n.) +‘spiritual knowledge’
+[-, -, bra(h)m//] +(212a1). +∎From BHS brahman-. +See also Bra(h)m-ñäkteand bra(h)m-wek*. +

+ + +
+

+Bra(h)m-ñäkte +(n.) +‘(the god) Brahma’
+[bra(h)m-ñäkte, bra(h)m-ñäktentse, bra(h)m-ñäkte//-, -, bra(h)m-ñäkteṃ] +poyśiññeṣṣu brahmñäkte twe brahm aiyśeñca ‘O all-knowing Lord Brahma, thou [art] knowing brahma’ (212a1), [in Manichaean script] br’mnyk/// (Winter/Gabain:11). + -- bra(h)mñäktäññe ‘prtng to the Lord Brahma’ (138b5). +∎From BHS brahmā-. +See also bra(h)m* and bra(h)m-wek*. +

+ + +
+

+bra(h)m-wek* +(n.) +‘Brahmā's word; the sacred text’
+[-, -, bra(h)m-wek//] +bram-weksa weña su ‘he spoke with the brahmā-voice’ (K-12b4). +∎A partial calque on BHS brahmavāc. +See also bra(h)m* and Bra(h)m-ñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+Brahmadatte +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Brahmadatta’ (PN of various kings of Benares)
+[Brahmadatte, Brahmadatti, -//] +(349b3). +

+ + +
+

+brahmalok* +(n.) +‘the Brahmā heaven’
+[-, -, brahmalok//] +(19b7). +∎From BHS brahmaloka-. +

+ + +
+

+brahmaswar +(n.) +‘Brahmā-voice’
+[brahmaswar, -, brahmaswar//] +brahmasvar weśeño = BHS brahma-svaratvāṃ (199b5). +∎From BHS *brahma-svara- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Brāhmaṇagrām* +(n.) +‘Brahman-village’ (PN of a place)
+[-, -, Brāhmaṇagrām//] +(88b6). +

+ + +
+

+Brāhmaṇavārg* +(n.[m.sg.]) +a division of the Udānavarga
+[-, -, Brāhmaṇavārg//] +(S-7b2). +

+ + +
+

+brāhmaṇe +(nm.) +‘brahman’
+[brāhmaṇe, brāhmaṇi, - (voc. brāhmaṇa)//brāhmaṇi, brāhmaṇeṃts, brāhmaṇeṃ] +brāhmaṇi śaulne skwaññe wikā-ne ‘he rejected him in the favored life of a brahman’ (3a4/5). + -- brāhmaññe ‘prtng to a brahman’ (357a3, TEB-58-23). +∎From BHS brāhmaṇa-. +See also brāhmaṇiśke*. +

+ + +
+

+brāhmaṇiśke* +(n.) +‘little brahman’
+[(voc. brāhmaṇiśka)//] +(78b4). +∎A diminutive formed from brāhmaṇe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Brähmadattakalp* +(n.) +name of a Buddhist work
+[-, -, Brähmadattakalp//] +(M-2a7). +

+ + +
+

+brihati +See bṛhati. +

+ + +
+

+bhakti* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± row, streak’
+[//bhaktinta, -, -] +(571b1). +∎From BHS bhakti-. +

+ + +
+

+bhagaṇḍāla* +(n.) +‘fistula of anus or vulva’
+[//bhagaṇḍālanta, -, -] +praśśānkaṃ erṣäṃ epe bhagaṇḍālanta mäskenträ ‘it evokes an eruption of pustules or fistulas appear’ (St-b5). +∎From BHS bhagaṃdara-. +

+ + +
+

+bhadrakalpike* +(adj.) +‘belonging to the [present] age’
+[//-, -, bhadrakalpikeṃ] +(365.2). +∎From BHS bhadrakalpika-. +

+ + +
+

+Bhadre* +(n.) +‘Bhadra’ (PN)
+[-, -, Bhadreṃ//] +(302a2). +

+ + +
+

+bhant +(n.) +‘Rubia cordifolia Linn.’ [aka Rubia munjista] (a medical ingredient)
+[bhant, -, -//] +(Y-1b1). +∎From BHS bhaṇḍī- (Sieg, 1954:65). +

+ + +
+

+bhap ~ bhav +(nnt.) +‘state of existence’
+[bhap, -, bhap//-, -, bhapänta] +istak cai nāgi ṣñār bhavantane yopar ‘suddenly the nāgas entered into their own states of existence’ (350a4). +∎From BHS bhava-. +

+ + +
+

+Bharaccaṃtre +(n.) +‘Bharacandra’ (?) (PN in monastic graffito)
+[Bharaccaṃtre, -, -//] +(G-Qm8). +

+ + +
+

+bhargi +See bhārk. +

+ + +
+

+bharyacintāk* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 12 syllables (rhythm 4/4/4)
+[-, -, bharyacintāk//] +(89a6). +

+ + +
+

+bhallātak +(n.) +‘Semecarpus anacardium Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[bhallātak, -, -//] +(W-42b3). +∎From BHS bhallātaka-. +

+ + +
+

+bhav +See bhap. +

+ + +
+

+bhavākär +(n.) +‘the last, highest existence’
+[bhavākär, -, bhavākär//] +(29b6). + -- bhavākärṣṣe* ‘prtng to the last, highest existence’ (108b3). +∎From BHS bhavāgra-. +

+ + +
+

+bhavānk* +(n.) +‘± element of existence’
+[/-, -, bhavānkäñc/-, -, bhavānkänta] +(180b4). +∎From BHS *bhavānga- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+bhākottär* +(n.) +‘addition of one portion’
+[-, -, bhākottär//] [list of ingredients] +bhākottärsa ‘[each] by the addition of one portion [greater than the last]’ (Y-1b3). +∎From BHS bhāgottara- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton but see Emmerick's [1980:286] discussion of this and semantically similar words). +

+ + +
+

+bhājaṃ* +(nm.) +‘vessel, pot’
+[-, -, bhājaṃ/bhāja(nä)nta, -, -] +lwāksa bhāja[nta] ‘pots and vessels’ bhājana-. +

+ + +
+

+Bhādra +(n.) +‘Bhādrā’ (PN of a princess)
+(K-T). +

+ + +
+

+bhārk +(n.) +‘Clerodendrum indicum (Linn.) Ktze.’ (= C. siphonantus (R. Br.) C.B.Clarke) (a medical ingredient)
+[bhārk (~ bhargi), -, -//] +(W-24b2, Y-1a2). +∎From BHS bhārgī-. +

+ + +
+

+Bhūtantär* +(n.) +‘book of (demonic) beings’
+[-, -, Bhūtantär//] +(P-2b4). +∎From BHS bhūtantra-. +

+ + +
+

+bhūmi* +(nnt.) +‘± state, element, earth’
+[-, -, bhūmi//-, -, bhūminta] +okt bhūmintameṃ yaikoṣ kleśanma stmoṣ bhavāggärne ‘having driven away the afflictions from the eight states, standing in the state of highest existence’ (29b6). + -- bhūmiṣṣe* ‘prtng to a bhūmi’ (175a6). +∎From BHS bhūmi-. +

+ + +
+

+bhūmyupaghātaṃ +(n.) +‘± earth-injuring’
+(331a2). +∎From BHS *bhūmyupaghātāna- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+bhok +‘?’
+kwaṣai vādai bhok kälpau (110a6). +

+ + +
+

+bho-bho +(interjection) +‘good!’
+[tā] rrine yaipormeṃ ālyauceś weskeṃ bho bho ‘having reached the city, they said to one another: good! good!’ (81b3). +∎From BHS bho(s). +

+ + +
+

+bhränkār* +(n.) +‘vessel’
+[-, -, bhränkār//] +karuṇäṣṣe bhṛnkār enku ṣärsa ‘seizing the vessel of pity with the hand’ (212a2). +∎From BHS bhṛngāra-. +

+ + +
+

+bhränkarac +See prankarac. +

+ + +
+

+makamo* +(adj.) +‘urged, impelled, dispatched’
+[f: -, -, makamñai//] +makamñai = BHS preritāṃ (539b3). +∎A derivative (from the subjunctive stem?) of mäk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+makā-y(ä)kne +See māka. +

+ + +
+

+makūl* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘root’
+[-, -, makūl//] +warttoṣṣe makūltsa tatrāpparmeṃ rūpsa klāya ‘tripping over a forest root, he fell on [his] face’ (88a2/3). +‣Apparently the equivalent of the inherited witsako, q.v. +∎From BHS makūla-. +

+ + +
+

+makte +(pronoun) +‘ipse, -self’ [emphatic and reflexive]
+[m: makte, mäkcepi, makce//makci, -, -] [f: mäkciya, -, -//] +memyas makci ono[l]meṃ ‘you yourselves [have] befooled beings’ (28a7), mäkcepi aikormeṃ [mäkcepi = BHS svayam-] (531a3), makte tāś ākṣa ‘the com-mander himself has announced [this]’ (LP-6a2). + -- mäktauñe ‘final end’ (in compound snai-mäktauñe ‘incomparable’): snai mä[ktauñe] = BHS aparāyaṇaṃ (534al), snai mäktauñe enkaltse sporttotär ekalymīññene ‘he dwells in the incomparable power of passion’ (A-2b2). +∎TchA mättak (m. acc. sg. mäccak) is clearly related to B makte (m. acc. sg. makce) but just how has been somewhat obscure. A mättak/mäccak, with its final -k, is inflected just like ālak (m. acc. sg. ālyak) ‘other’ (cf. B allek). In both cases the final -k is obviously a secondary accretion (though in the case of the words for ‘other’ one of PTch date) of the intensifier -kä (cf. suwak, mäntrāk, etc.). We must start from PTch *mäkte/mäkce (reflected in B) and *mäkte-kä/mäkce-kä (reflected in A). In A the first -k- has become assimilated to the immediately following consonant, probably as a form of dissimilation to the second -k- (Couvreur, 1947:50). PTch *mäkte itself is a conflation of the contrastive and emphatic *mä (< *mé(n); cf. mäkte, mant, and mäksu and, more distantly, the enclitic Latin -met ‘-self’) + the intensifier *kä + -to-, the same *-to- seen in Greek autós ‘-self’ and Albanian vetë ‘id.’ VW (294-5) isolates the intensifier -k in the A forms and identifies the mä- of both A and B with that of mant, mäkte, etc. but, rejecting Couvreur's insight concerning the origin of the A forms, separates the A and B paradigms and otherwise explains the constituent elements very differently. +

+ + +
+

+makwaṣṣälle * +(gerund) +‘contra-indicated’ (?)
+/// pärsnāllona śätkaroṃ päst slankällona toṃ saṃtkenta wrantse kātsane makwaṣṣällona ‘... are to be sprayed; the leeches [are] to be pulled out; these remedies [are] contra-indicated in [cases of] dropsy [lit: water-belly]’ (W-42a4/5). +∎The meaning is suggested under the supposition that we have a misspelling of *maskwaṣṣallona, gerund to māskwäsk-, a derivative of māskw. +

+ + +
+

+Maghaṃ* +‘the tenth or fifteenth nakṣatra’
+[-, -, Maghaṃ//] +(M-1b8). +∎From BHS maghā-. +

+ + +
+

+mankāl +(n.) +‘good fortune, bliss, health; good omen’
+[mankāl, -, -//-, -, mankālänta] +ṣärnen=enkoṣ mankālänta ‘taking in the hands the good omens’ (213b1/2). + -- mankāläṣṣe* ‘prtng to good luck, bliss, health’ (107a1). +∎From BHS mangala-, as is its TchA equivalent mankal. +

+ + +
+

+mañiññe* +(n.) +‘slavery, servitude’
+[-, -, mañiññe//] +mañiññe ramt kattākets yāmṣäṃ ‘he does, as it were, servitude for the householders’ (31b4). +∎A derivative of mañiye. +See also mañiya and mañiye. +

+ + +
+

+mañiya +(nf.) +‘female slave, maid-servant’
+[mañiya, -, mañiyai//-, mañiyananṃts, mañiyana] + ostä-ṣmemanentse māka kurpelle māñyeṃ mañyanats śnoy säswa tkātärts ‘by the householder [there] must [be] much concern toward slaves and maid-servants, for wife, children and sisters’ (33a5/6). +∎With a feminizing suffix -ā, from mañiye. +See also mañiye and mañiññe*. +

+ + +
+

+mañiye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(male) slave, (male) servant’
+[mañiye, -, mañiye//-, mañiyeṃts, mañiyeṃ] +ṣñār ṣñār mañyeṃ mañyanameṃ nemcek yarke källālyi ‘[you are] to achieve honor from [your] slaves and maid-servants’ (33a7), yokaitse māñye netsi [lege: nestsi] mā ñke preke ‘now [is] not the time to be the slave of thirst/desire’ (281a4). +∎With TchA māññe from Old or Middle Iranian *(d)mān(i)ya-; compare particularly Old Persian māniya- ‘domestic’ from māna- ‘house’ [: Avestan nmāna-/ dəmāna-] (Sieg, Siegling, Schulze, 1931:11, fn. 2, Hansen, 1940:149, VW:631). +See also mañiya, mañiññe*, and -maññe. +

+ + +
+

+mañu* +(n.) +‘desire’
+[-, -, mañu//] +Upagentse mañu kärstāte-ne ṣañ ytāri masa ‘the desire of Upaga was cut off and he went his own way’ (107a6/7). +∎TchB mañu and A mnu ‘± spirit, appreciation, desire’ are surely to be related but the exact PTch preform and extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are uncertain. Perhaps with VW (1941:68, 1976:301) we have PTch *mäñäu- (the -n- of TchA results from depalatalization once it has come into contact with m-), itself a derivative of PIE *men- ‘think,’ i.e. *men-eu- (perhaps one should compare mlyuwe for form). +

+ + +
+

+mañcaṣṭa +(n.) +‘Indian madder’ (Oldenlandia umbellata Linn.) (a medical ingredient)
+[mañcaṣṭa, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS mañjiṣṭha-. +

+ + +
+

+mañcāk* +(n.) +‘couch, bed’
+[-, -, mañcāk//] +se ṣamāne pir mañcāk yamasträ ‘whatever monk makes for himself a stool or bed’ (H-149.X.3b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]). +∎From BHS mañcaka-. +

+ + +
+

+-maññe +(n.) +‘± (dwelling place)’
+Only in the compounds yärkemaññe ‘place of veneration,’ winamāññe ‘garden’ (< ‘pleasure-place’), taupemaññe ‘place of mines’ (?), qq.v. +∎From Old or Middle Iranian *(d)mān(i)ya- ‘prtng to a dwelling.’ +See More s.v. mañiye. +

+ + +
+

+Maṇiśvare +(n.) +‘Maṇiśvara’ (PN of a merchant)
+[Maṇiśvare, -, -//] +(89b6). +

+ + +
+

+maṇḍāl* +(n.) +‘circle; special ground marked out for religious or magical ceremony’
+[-, -, maṇḍāl//] +tāṃ telkiṣṣe maṇḍālmeṃ ltusai lantsoṣṣai [wertsyai] ‘the queen's company, emerged from the circle of sacrifice’ (345a2), śāmña kwrāṣe ... maṇḍālne taṣalya ‘a human skeleton [is] to be put in the circle’ (M-3b6). +∎From BHS maṇḍala-. +

+ + +
+

+matarye +(adj.) +‘maternal’
+[m: matarye, -, -//] [f: -, -, mataryai//] +ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘throwing it in the maternal hearth, it would burn up’ (153al=154b3). +∎A derivative of mācer, q.v., (as if) from PIE *meh_atriyo-. +

+ + +
+

+matarṣe +See mācer. +

+ + +
+

+matuk +(n.) +‘Glycyrrhiza glabra Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[matuk,-, -//] +(W-4a3). +∎From BHS madhuka-. +

+ + +
+

+matuyaṣṭi +(n.) +‘Glycyrrhiza glabra Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[matuyaṣṭi, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎By metathesis from BHS yaṣṭimadhu-. +

+ + +
+

+matre +See mātre. +

+ + +
+

+madār +See mātar. +

+ + +
+

+madanaphal +(n.) +‘fruit of the thorn-apple’ [Randia dumetorum Lam.] (a medical ingredient)
+[madanaphal, -, -//] +(Y-2b4). + -- madanaphalṣe ‘prtng to fruit of the thorn-apple’ (M-2a2). +∎BHS madanaphala-. +

+ + +
+

+madanabhārat* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 12 syllables [rhythm 4/4/4]
+[-, -, madanabhārat//] +(AMB-b4). +

+ + +
+

+maddhimṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: //-, -, maddhimṣana] +maddhimṣana rekona [sic] onästrä [sic] (547al). +‣This word certainly has all the earmarks of a BHS loanword but I find nothing similar in M-W or Edgerton. +

+ + +
+

+madhuvasiṣṭa +‘?’
+madhuvasiṣṭa | Vaiśali/// (584b7). +

+ + +
+

+manarko* +(n.) +‘± bank (of a river)’
+[-, -, manarkai//] +ckentse manarkaisa nyagrot stām ñor atiyaisa lyama ‘he sat beneath the fig-tree on the grass on the bank of the river’ (107b5). +∎Etymology unknown. Not with VW (279) from *mana-mark- from PIE *men- ‘be prominent’ and merǵ- ‘border’ respectively (cf. VW, 1941:61, and Pisani, 1942-43:27). +

+ + +
+

+manāyataṃ +(n.) +‘± mental sphere’ (?)
+[manāyataṃ, -, -//] +(192a3). +∎From BHS manah- + āyatana-? (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+manotaci +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[manotaci, -, -//] +(W-28a3). +

+ + +
+

+manopavicār* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//manopavicāränta, manopavicāräntaṃts, -] +(172a7, -b2, -b7). +

+ + +
+

+manovijñāṃ* +(n.) +‘perception of the mind’
+[-, -, manovijñāṃ//] +(177b6). +∎From BHS manovijñāna-. +

+ + +
+

+mant +(conj.) +‘so’ [often in combination with mäkte ‘as’]; ‘thus’
+mäkte cake ... [mā kl]autkot[rä] | mant kättankäṃ śaulanma mā ṣp wtentse klautkonträ ‘as the stream does not return, so lives pass over and do not return again’ [mäkte ... mant = BHS yathā ... evam] (3a4), kwri war tākaṃ yolmene ... mant ket tākaṃ yokaiṣṣe ‘if water is in the pond, so [also] will be the water of thirst to him’ (11b4), te-mant kärsaurmeṃ [sic] = BHS iti jñātvā (31a6), Ylaiñikte bramñikteś mant ṣerpsa-me weñā-meś ṣerśkana sam rṣāke ñissa śpālmeṃ ste ‘Indra about Brahma explained to them thus: he said to them: sisters this seer is better than I’ (107a9/10), ce_u-mänt wälo weñā-ne ‘the king spoke to him thusly’ (133a7), ysaṣṣa askace mänt pälka kektseñe täñ ‘like golden kuśa-grass has thy body glowed’ (224b2), ñäktenne cmelñe mäskenträ mant weweñor ste poyśintse ‘they will have birth among the gods; such is the declaration of the Buddha’ (K-2a3), twe ñī yaitkorsa maṃt pyām ‘do so thou according to my order’ (LP-1a1/2), [in Manichean script] m’nḍ (Winter/Gabain, 1958:11). + -- mäntak ‘just so, once done’: cme[lne ce no] su cwi wer ścon=arṣāklaine mäntak ‘however, just so in this birth is his hate and enmity toward the snake’ (42a5), mäntak srukau mā waskāte ‘once dead, he did not move’ (606al); +
+mant-ra ‘just so’: mäkte ostä pakwāreṃ aipoṣ swese olypotse | kauṣäṃ mant ra mā yairoṣ palsko no kauṣn enkl olypotse ‘as the rain destroys completely a house badly covered, just so does passion destroy an unpracticed spirit completely’ (A-1b2); +
+mäntrākka ‘just so’ [mant + ra + ka, qq.v]: mäntrākka no su ms[k]eträ [sic] skwassu alyek c[m]elne ‘for just so is he [= the believer] fortunate in another birth’ [mäntrākka = BHS evam] (23b8). +∎In Indo-European terms, mant reflects something on the order of *mé(n) + tō + u, just as its correlative mäkte reflects *mé(n) + k^wu-tō. (For the loss of *-ōw, compare okt ‘eight’ from *oḱtōw.) In both cases we have a particle *mé(n), like Greek mén which typically occurs to point out that the word or clause with which it stands is correlative to to a word or clause following, the latter marked by dé (Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:380, VW:288). The Tocharian situation is different than that seen in Greek in that the Tocharian reflex of *mé(n) occupies the first, stressed, position of its clause rather than being enclitic and in second positon. The "Tocharian" mé(n) is to "Greek" *mé(n) as Sanskrit nū is to nú (see Watkins, 1962, for other examples). Following this *mé(n) is a frozen ablative (cf. Latin quō or English how), in the case of mäkte the ablative of the relative pronoun k_use, q.v., in the case of mant the ablative of the ordinary anaphoric pronoun followed by the enclitic *u. Thus in adverbial relative clause, mäkte ... mant, we have, save for the *mé(n), the same sequence as in the ordinary relative clause, e.g. (where the relative and resumptive pronouns are both nominative) k_use ... sū, where the latter is PIE *so + u. This pattern, if not the formal expression, is of Indo-European date, cf. Latin quantus ... tantus or, with a different relative pronoun, Sanskrit yāvat ... tāvat (Watkins, 1976:312-14). The contrast with the typologically older situation in TchA is instructive. In the latter language the equivalent of B mäkte is mä(n)t, the equivalent of B *mant is tamne or täṃne. In A mä(n)t we have *mé(n) as before, though restricted, as in Greek, to the subordinate clause, plus *tō, the ablative of *so-/to- used as a relative pronoun, as in Germanic and Greek. A tamne and täṃne are of course the regular resumptive pronouns that correspond functionally to B sū (the -ne is a secondary enclitic). +

+ + +
+

+manta / mā ... nta +(particle) +‘not at all, never’
+klinaṣṣäṃ ṣañ śāmna rintsi mā no nta su ce_u rilñemeṃ oko wrocce kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘he must give up his own followers but by such a renunciation he will obtain no great fruit’ (8a2), yokye kleś mā tärknan-ne klaiksatsi nta ‘the thirst-kleśa never allows [the tree] to wither’ (11b3), manta ksa campya srūkalñe taṅt[s]i ‘nothing can check death’ (46b3), [ma]nta laute = BHS ciracirasya (541a3), manta = BHS na (541a5). +∎From mā + nta, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+mantanta +(particle) +‘never’
+kreṃt tarkoy reki mantanta tarko[y yo]lain reki ‘one should utter a good word, never should one utter an evil word’ (19b3), mantanta ksa ṣp nāge campi pältak swese swāsästsi ‘and no nāga could ever cause a drop of rain to rain’ (350a3). +∎From manta + nta, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+mantālo* +(n.) +‘evilmindedness, malice’
+[-, -, mantālai//] +(260b5). + -- mantālaitstse* ‘evil-minded, malicious’: onolmi tremeṣṣi mantā-l[ai]cci [c]ai ‘these angry malicious beings’ (575b1). +∎A derivative of mänt-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+mante +(adv.) +(a) ‘upwards’; (b) NOUN-meṃ mante = ‘from ... on’
+(a) mante yalyi = BHS ūrdhvaṃ gam- ‘die’ (46b1); +
+(b) ñake ṣuktañce ṣkas meñantse-meṃ motte [lege: mante] ñwe mape śātre śwātär ‘from the seventh of the sixth month on newly ripe grain is eaten’ (461a5), temeñ mante āyor ... weṃtsi aunaske[nt]rä ‘from here on they begin to tell of giving, moral behavior’ (H-149.40a2 [Thomas, 1954:718]). +∎Etymology unclear. With VW (279) related in some fashion to PIE *men- ‘project’ mons)? One might suppose a PIE locative *men-tō(i). +See also maṃtstsaś. +

+ + +
+

+maṃtstsaś ++ locative (adv.) +‘under(neath)’
+snai epinkte bramñikte kārpa totka maṃtstsaś aśrāmne peñiyacce yaknesa lyama ‘immediately Brahma-god descended a little and sat in a splendid fashion under the ashram’ (107a8). +∎Etymology uncertain. Presumably related in some fashion to TchA mtsāṣ ‘from below’ but there are no obvious extra-Tocharian connections. Melchert (p.c.) would connect this entry and the previous one with PIE *men- ‘rise from below, go upward’ [: Latin ēmineō and P ¹men-]. For the semantic collocation he notes the parallel of PIE *(s)h₄up- ‘rise from below’ [: Hittite ūpzi ‘rises (of the sun)’ and Greek hupó ‘under’]. The exact meaning depends on whether the focus is on the starting location or the movement. +

+ + +
+

+mapi +(particle/intensifier) +‘indeed’
+ot cwi sp[aktanīki alā]läcci tākam mapi kca sū cämpan-m[e] laklene waste nestsi ‘then we will be his untiring servants; he can, indeed, be our refuge in suffering’ (77a1/2), saswa appakk[a ma]pi psāmpar ñiś [ceṃ rakṣa]tsenmeṃ ‘Lord and father, take me indeed from these rakṣas’ (85b3/4). +‣It is not altogether clear whether the underlying shape is /mäpi/ with stress on the first syllable or /māpi/ with stress on the last. Either analysis could be supported by the variant spellings found. +∎In opting for the former, I assume that we have the same PIE *mé(n) we seen in mant, mäkte, and mäksu + the particle pi, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+map(p)e +(adj.) +‘ripe’
+[m: mape, -, -//] [f: -, -, mapai//mappana, -, -] +ṣuktañce ṣkas meñantse-meṃ motte [lege: mante] ñwe mape śātre śwātär ‘from the seventh of the sixth month on new, ripe grain is to be eaten’ (461a5). +∎Etymology unclear. Perhaps from a PIE *nebh-wo- ‘bursting’ (cf. Sanskrit nábhate ‘bursts,’ Old Norse nǟfr (f.) (< Proto-Gmc. nāβizō-) ‘outer birch-bark’) with the same assimilation seen in mätsts- from *nätsw-? Certainly not with VW (1967:183, 1976:280) from a PIE *mewo- which should have given *muwe (cf. ñuwe from *newo-). +

+ + +
+

+mame +See māme. +

+ + +
+

+mameñat +‘?’
+k_use cets mā cäñcre - - - - - cpi mameñat parṣki lkāskeṃ pärnāmeṃ ka (282b6/7). +

+ + +
+

+mamaiwar +See miw-. +

+ + +
+

+marici(-) +‘?’
+/// te ñem ṣey marici/// (371a4). +

+ + +
+

+markalñe +See märtk-. +

+ + +
+

+-markär +(n.) +‘turbid,’ only attested in the compound snai-märkär ‘not turbid, clear’
+snai markär = BHS anāvilaḥ (PK-NS- 107b2 (Thomas, 1976b: 106)), snai-märkä[r] no = BHS niṣkaluṣā hi (H-149.198b4 [Thomas, 1976b:111]). + -- snai-märkartstse* id.: snai-märkarcce = BHS anāvilam (H-149.112b2 [Thomas, 1976b:111]). +∎TchB markär is an abstract noun derived from a verbal root *märk- by the addition of (PIE) *-ṛ (cf. tarkär). On the basis of the equation snai-märkär = BHS niṣkaluṣa-, märk- must be more or less equivalent to BHS kal- ‘impel, incite; stir up; carry off.’ This verb is found in TchA as well, i.e. sne-märklune = BHS ahārya- ‘immovable’ and in the third singular of the preterite (in a broken context) markäs. With VW (1941:62, 1976:290) probably related to Greek (Hesychius) brakeîn ‘suniénai,’ bráxai ‘sullabeîn’ from a PIE *merk-/merḱ-. Frisk (1960:263) suggests a connection of the Greek words with Sanskrit mṛśáti ‘touches, handles, strokes’ (a possibility not mentioned by Mayrhofer [1963:677-8]). +

+ + +
+

+marmanma +(n.pl.) +‘vessels (of the body)’
+[//marmanma, -, marmanma] +spalkkaskentär-ñ marmanma katkauñaṣṣe warkṣältsa ‘through the power of joy my vessels are zealous’ (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Couvreur, 1954c:84]), onmiṣṣana pwārasa tsäksemane marmanma tronktse stām ra ... nuskaskemar marmanma inkauṃ kästwer ‘[my] vessels burning with the fires of repentance like a hollow tree; I repress [my] vessels day and night’ (TEB-64-05). +∎TchA marmañ (pl.) ‘vessels (of the body)’ and B marmanma represent independent borrowings from BHS marman- ‘vulnerable point of the body’ (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:53, n. 3, VW:630). +

+ + +
+

+malkwer +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘milk’
+[malkwer, -, malkwer//] +aṣiye malkwersa spärkaṣṣälle ‘with goat's milk it [is] to be dissolved’ (W-7a6), kewiye miśosa malkwersa wat ‘with cow urine or with milk’ (Y-2b5). +∎TchB malkwer (/mälkwer/) is related to A malke ‘id.’ and its denominative mālk- ‘to milk’ (in PTch terms *melk-ā-). These derivative presuppose a pre- or Proto-Tocharian *mälk- ‘to milk’ from PIE *melǵ- ‘wipe, milk’ [: Sanskrit mārṣṭi/mārjati/mṛjáti ‘wipe (off), purify,’ Avestan marəzaiti/ mərəzaiti ‘stroke,’ Greek amélgō ‘milk,’ Latin mulgeō ‘id.,’ Old Irish bligim ‘id.,’ Albanian mjel ‘id.,’ Old English melcan ‘id.,’ Lithuanian mélžu ‘id,’ etc. (P:722-3; MA:381)] (Meillet, 1911:146, VW:284). It is worthy of note that the variation between thematic noun (as in TchA) and a derivative in -wer (as in B) is paralleled by PIE *h₂o-sd-o- ‘branch’ (> German Ast) and *h₂o-sd-wēr ‘id.’ (> Hittite hasdwer). +

+ + +
+

+mallālyñe +See mäl-¹. +

+ + +
+

+malyak(k)e +(adj.) +‘youthful, puerile’
+[m: malyak(k)e, -, -//] [f: malyak(k)a, -, -//] + tumeṃ kātsasa laupe yāmusai tesa kātso malyakka mäsketär mā ylārya ‘then applying the ointment over the belly, thus the belly becomes youthful [but] not flaccid’ (W-37b2/3), malyakke nestä = BHS bālo ’si (H-149-ADD.8a5). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (1977b:390-1) suggests a borrowing (through a Prakrit inter-mediary where Sanskrit -r- appears as -l-) from Sanskrit maryaka- ‘young man.’ However, maryaka- survives only sparsely in Modern Indic (in Dardic) and only in -r- languages so a possible Middle Indic source is by no means assured. Note too that the Tch word is an adjective and not a noun. Isebaert (1978[80]) suggests a hypochoristic derivative of *mālye/ mālle ‘devant dompté, fougaux, folâtre’ < *dmeh_alyo-, a derivative of *demh_a-/dmeh_a- ‘dompter, soumettre.’ More probably we have a derivative of ¹mäl- ‘crush’ just as we do in Latin mollis ‘soft, tender, gentle’ with a further semantic development to ‘young’ (cf. Latin mollibus annis ‘in tender youth’). +See also mäl-¹ or possibly mālle. +

+ + +
+

+maścītse* +(n.) +‘mouse, rat’
+[//maścītsi, -, -//] +lyśī no māka kr_ui tākaṃ /// śalapä maścītsi ṣpä peṣeli śaiṣṣene mäskenträ pākri ‘if, however, there are many thieves, grasshopper[s], mice and worms appear in the world’ (K-8b1). +∎Etymology unknown. It would be nice if, somehow, this word could be related to PIE *mus- ‘mouse, rat.’ It might be possible to do so if -cītse were some suffix or conglomeration of suffixes and the mās- (which appears as mas- of course because it is unstressed) were a Tocharian Dehnstufe formation based on *mäs- from *mus- ‘mouse’ (P:752-753; MA:387). Certainly Dehnstufen were productive within the history of Tocharian (cf. praściye ‘rainstorm’) but the hypothesis as a whole is too complex to be very convincing. Even less convincing is VW's attempt (282) to derive this word from a *mṛsti- + suffix where mer- is ‘steal.’ +

+ + +
+

+maśce +(nf.) +‘fist’
+[maśce, -, maśc//maści, -, -] +wäräñcäṣṣa mäṣce [sic] ‘a fistful of sand’ (142a3), akāśne maś mantä ksa wīpäṣṣäṃ ‘he never shakes [his] fist in the air’ [?] (597a5). +∎Regularly from PIE *musti- ‘fist’ seen otherwise only in Indo-Iranian [: Sanskrit muṣṭí- (m./f.) ‘fist,’ Avestan mušti- ‘id.,’ Sanskrit mustu- ‘id.’ (Mayrhofer, 1963:658, 661; Normier, 1980:260; MA:255)]. It may be that there is a further connection of this Tocharo-Indo-Iranian etymon with Lithuanian mùšti ‘to strike’ but surely not with *meus- ‘steal’ or *mus- ‘mouse.’ Tocharian differs from Indo-Iranian in reflecting a hysterokinetic PIE nominative singular *mustē(i) rather than *mustis (the accusative singular maśc matches Sanskrit mustím exactly). Given the accentuation of Sanskrit muṣṭí-, the nominative singular seen in Tocharian may well be more original than that seen in Indo-Iranian. Certainly not with VW (281) from *mṇ- ‘hand’ + -sti-. +

+ + +
+

+maṣṣāt +(n.) +‘scorn’ [maṣṣāt yām- ‘to scorn’]
+[se ṣamā]ne pañäktentse maṣṣāt yamaṣṣäṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk scorns the Buddha, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion (mā ‘not’ + an Iranian borrowing *ṣāt ‘joyous, rich’), see VW (630). +

+ + +
+

+masār +(adv.) +‘± while traveling, underway’ (?) [Krause and Thomas], or ‘at times many’ (?) [K. T. Schmidt, 1980:407]
+ṣamāni no masār ostuwaiwenta kakākaṣ tākoṣ śwātsiśco ‘[if] monks should be invited to eat while traveling’ (H-149.X.5b5 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎Meaning and etymology uncertain. If the traditionally ascribed meaning (that of Krause and Thomas) is correct, we have a derivative of mäs-, the verbal stem that supplies the suppletive preterite singular of i-, q.v. (VW:291). If Schmidt's meaning is correct, VW (1985:487) suggests a borrowing from Iranian *maz- ‘great’ with the addition of "distributive" suffix -ār (see somār or waiptār). +

+ + +
+

+Maskali* +(n.) +‘Maskali’ (PN of a heretical teacher)
+[-, Maskalintse, -//] +(28a8). +

+ + +
+

+maskelle +See mäsk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+maskwana +‘?’
+///t ̇mane ̇e ̇enta mas[k]wana /// (594a4). +

+ + +
+

+mastukārm +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘medicine applied via the nose’
+[mastukārm, -, -] +se mastukārm śeśuwer postäṃ yamaṣṣälle ‘this medicine by way of the nose [is] to be applied after eating’ (W-13a5). +∎From BHS nastakarman-. +

+ + +
+

+mahākaruṃ* +(n.) +‘great and general compassion’
+[-, -, mahākaruṃ//] +(288a3). + -- mahākaruṃṣe ‘prtng to great and general compassion’ (TEB-58-18) +∎From BHS mahākaruṇā-. +

+ + +
+

+Mahākāśyape +(n.) +‘Mahākāśyapa’ (PN of a disciple of the Buddha's)
+[Mahākāśyape, -, -//] +(12a7). +

+ + +
+

+Mahāgrase* +(n.) +‘Mahāgrāsa’ (PN of a nāga)
+[-, -, Mahāgrase//] +(507a2). +

+ + +
+

+Mahānidānaparyāy* +(n.) +name of a Buddhist work?
+[-, -, Mahānidānaparyāy//] +mäkte Mahānidānaparyān[e] weweñu ste ‘as it is said in the M.’ (H-149-ADD.46b1 [Couvreur, 1968:279]). +

+ + +
+

+mahābhūt +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘great element’
+[mahābhūt, -, -// -, mahābhūtäntaṃts, mahābhūtänta] +(192b1). +∎From BHS mahābhūta-. +

+ + +
+

+mahābhūtadravyi* +(n.) +‘ingredient of a great element’
+[//-, -, mahābhūtadravyinta] +(193a10). +∎From BHS mahābhūta- + dravya- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+mahāmet +(n.) +‘Xanthium indica Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[mahāmet, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS mahāmedā-. +

+ + +
+

+mahārtte* +(n.) +‘grave matter’
+[//-, mahārtteṃts, -] +(221a4). +∎From BHS mahārtha-. +

+ + +
+

+mahārṣi* +(n.) +‘great-seer’
+[//maharṣinta, -, -] +(107b3). +∎From BHS mahā + ṛṣi- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+mahāvaidyehik +(adj.) +a particular kind of salve
+[mahāvaidyehik, -, -//] +(501a2). +∎From BHS mahāvaidehika-. For a discussion, see Maue, 1990. +

+ + +
+

+mahāvaibhāṣike* +(n.) +‘a great follower of the Vibhāṣā’ (?)
+[-, -, mahāvaibhāṣikeṃ//] +(377b1). +∎From BHS mahā- + vaibhāṣika- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Mahāśramaṇe* +(n.) +‘Glorious Mendicant’ [epithet of the Buddha]
+[-, -, mahāśramaṇeṃ ~ mahāśramaṇa//-, mahāśramaṇeṃts, -] +(108a7). +∎From BHS mahāśramaṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+mahāsatve* +(adj.) +‘having a great or noble essence’
+[m: -, -, mahāsatveṃ//] +(338b6). +∎From BHS mahāsattva-. +

+ + +
+

+Mahāsaṃmate +(n.) +‘Mahāsammata’ (PN of a king)
+[Mahāsaṃmate, -, -//] +(606a3). +

+ + +
+

+Mahiśvare +(n.) +‘Mahiśvara’ (PN)
+[Mahiśvare, -, -//] +(74b5). +

+ + +
+

+mahiṣa +(n.) +‘Arum campanalatum’ [Filliozat] (a medical ingredient)
+[mahiṣa, -, -//] +(W-15b4). +∎From BHS mahiṣa-, but short for mahiṣakanda-. +

+ + +
+

+mahūr* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘diadem, head-dress’
+[-, -, mahur//] +ñem-kälyweṣṣe mahursa ṣäñ tärne yaiytu ‘the top of his own head decorated with a famous diadem’ (214b1/2). + -- mahūrtstse* ‘wearing a diadem’ (231a4). +∎From BHS makuṭa-, via some Prakrit or Khotanese (cf. Khotanese maula- ‘headdress’ [Bailey, 1967:285]). The facultative -h- in mahūr then would be a graphic device to indicate hiatus. +

+ + +
+

+matsi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘headhair’ (collective)
+[matsi, -, matsi//] +ṣäñ m[a]ts[i] reksa pūdñäktentse tāṣṣatsisa ‘he spread out his own hair for the Buddha to step upon’ (365a4), matsisa kauc lankäm-c ‘we will hang thee high by [thy] hair’ (PK-AS-18A-b3 [Thomas, 1978: 239]). +‣ In the same semantic field compare yok and to. + -- mtsiṣṣe ‘prtng to headhair’: śpālmeṃ lalaṃṣkaṃ mtsiṣṣeṃ letseṃ ‘excellent, soft locks of hair’ (PK-13-F-a3 [Couvreur, 1970:178]). +∎The most obvious comparison of TchB matsi is with Latvian mats ‘a hair,’ (pl.) mati ‘(head)hair’ (< Proto-Baltic *mata-) (K. T. Schmidt, 1980:409). If related, matsi might reflect a PIE *metyo- (with substitution of PTch *-äi for *-e, cf. leke and leki) and mats might reflect *moto-. However, the isolation of these words within Tocharian and Baltic invites caution. Certainly not, with VW (1961b:385, 1976:282), a borrowing from an unattested (pre-)TchA *mätsi from PIE *medhyo- ‘middle’ (semantic development: ‘middle’ > ‘parting of the hair’ > ‘headhair’). +

+ + +
+

+mā +(a) (particle); (b) (quasi-prefix) +(a) ‘not, no’ [simple negation and prohibition]; (b) also used as quasi-prefix as the equivalent of English ‘un-’
+(a) mā maiy[ya n]e[säṃ] mā tsirauñe ‘there is no strength, no energy’ (28a8); mā-wko (emphatic) ‘in no way’: ñiś ikäṃ pikwalaññe mā_uk nesau ‘I am not twenty years old!’ (330b4), k_use no su wnolme ket śaul nanautau yāmornta no ykāk nesaṃ-ne māwk nauntan-ne poyknesa ‘who then [is] the being whose life [is] lost but [whose] deeds still exist and do not disappear in any way?’ (K-7al); +
+(b) mā-mīlar kälpauwantso = BHS anupadrutaiḥ (11a6), mā-sälkoṣäṃts = BHS anuddhṛtair (11a7); mā-yāmor* ‘non-doing’: tūsa snaitse mäsketrä mā-yāmorsa yärpontaṃts ‘thus he is poor by the non-doing of meritorious services’ (K-6b2). + -- mā-yśelme ‘imperceptible to the senses’ [= BHS agocara] (H-149.289a1 [Thomas, 1968a:200, fn. 72]); +
+mā-ṣekaṃñe ‘inconstancy’: [pā]lka nai mā-ṣekaṃñe wäntarwats ‘observe, indeed, the inconstancy of things’ (88a4/5); +
+mā-ṣekaññeṣṣe* ‘prtng to inconstancy’ (153a2=154b4). +∎TchA mā and B mā reflect PTch *mā from PIE *mē [: Sanskrit mā, Avestan mā, Greek mḗ Armenian mi, Albanian mos (< *mē + k^wis), all the prohibitive negative (P:703; MA:395)] (Meillet, 1914:15). The final -ā in Tocharian is regular from absolute final *-ē in PIE (cf. wā ‘or’ [unstressed] from PIE *wē)--slightly different is Couvreur's treatment (1947:8) and Lindeman's (1969:21). In TchA mar (prohibitive particle), from *mē + rV, we find the the original semantics formally reinforced by a particle (cf. ra). Certainly not with VW (282-3) should we see the phonological influence of Sanskrit mā. +See also manta and mantanta. +

+ + +
+

+māka +(a) (adj. [usually indeclinable]/pronoun); (b) (adv.) +(a) ‘many, much’; (b) ‘very much’
+[//māka, makāṃts, māka] +(a) māka lykwarwa māka cmela māka lkāṣṣäṃ läklenta ‘many times he sees many births and many sufferings’ (15a7= 17a8), erkatte rekaunasa tsoksa-ñ māka ‘he gave me to drink many angry words’ (23b6/7), māka plyawāre ‘many wailed’ (45a3), māka täṅwañe lkātsi ‘to see much love’ (74a3), māka = BHS bahu (305b4); +
+(b) māka prākre ‘very firm’ (133b8), sū cew yāmorsa prāskaṃ māka kwipentär ‘he will be afraid because of this deed and will be very much ashamed’ (K-3b5). + -- māka-onolmeṣṣe ‘having a multitude of people, populous’ [= BHS bahujanyaṃ] (528a3 [cf. Couvreur, 1968:280]); +
+māka-ñatsetstse* ‘having great need’: mākā-ñatsecce sanuññ[esa] yamaske[nträ] ‘they treat one in great need with enmity’ (35b1); +
+makā-pew ‘having many feet’: lyakäṃ kraupträ snai-pewäṃ wi-pewäṃ śtwer-pewäṃ makā-pewäṃ ‘he gathers thieves, [those] without feet, two-footed [ones], four-footed [ones], and many-footed [ones]’ (H-149-ADD.8b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:93]); +
+makā-ykne (a) ([indeclinable] adj.) ‘manifold; whatever,’ (b) (adv.) ‘in manifold ways’: (a) nakanma makā-ykne kraupeṃ ‘they accumulate manifold blame’ (48b4), po ri[ta]lñ[esa] makā-yäk[ne mant pyām] ‘do so according to any demand whatever!’ (LP-39a2), (b) palāte-me makā-ykne käṣṣī ‘the master praised them in many ways’ (3a7). +∎TchA māk and B māka reflect PTch *mākā. Ever since Meillet (1912:114) this word has generally been associated with PIE *meǵ-h_a- ‘great’ [: Sanskrit máhi (nt.) ‘great,’ Greek méga (nt.) ‘id.,’ Armenian mec ‘id.,’ Gothic mikils (with the suffix modeled on that of lutils ‘little’) ‘id.,’ and Hittite mekki- ‘numerous’ (< *meǵh_a-i-), Old Norse mjǫk (< Proto-Gmc. *meku, with the -u analogical after *felu ‘few’ or phonetically regular from a laryngeal in a final syllable) ‘much’ (P:708-9; MA:344)] (for a review of other proposals, including his own, see VW [283]). The evidence of Sanskrit and Greek demonstrates an old holokinetic paradigm for this root, e.g. nom. sg. *méǵōh_a (Skt. combining form mahā-), acc. sg. méǵoh_am (Skt. acc. sg. mahām, gen. sg. *ṃǵh_aós (Skt. gen. sg. mahás with full-grade extended; cf. Greek zero-grade aga- ‘very’ [intensive prefix]), nt. nom/acc. sg. *méǵh_a (Skt. nt. máhi, Greek nt. méga). In complementary distribution geographically with meǵh_a- in late Proto-Indo-European is *maǵ- [: Latin Maius (< *maǵyo-) ‘May,’ magnus (< *maǵ(i)no-) ‘great,’ Proto-Celtic *magyo- (Middle Irish maige ‘great’), *magino- (Middle Irish maignech ‘great’ [< *maginiāko-), *maglo- (Middle Irish mál ‘noble, prince’), Albanian madh ‘great’ (< *maǵyo-) (P:708-9)]. To the material assembled here by Pokorny we might add Lithuanian mãgulas ‘numerous’ (cf. for the suffix Greek mégalos), though its isolation with Baltic invites caution. Whether this *maǵ- reflects a metathesis, presumably in the zero-grade, of *mǵh_a- to *mh_aǵ- or a contamination with *meh_a-, which forms the suppletive comparative (cf. Oscan mais, Gothic mais, etc.), is uncertain. The Tocharian *mākā probably represents *meǵōh_a with the vowel of *maǵ-. +See also possibly moko. +

+ + +
+

+mākaranda +(n.) +a species of jasmine; a species of mango (?)
+[mākaranda, -, -//] +(497b2). +∎From BHS makaranda-. +

+ + +
+

+Māgat +(n.) +‘Magadha’ (PN of a country of India)
+(110a2). + -- Māgatäṣṣe ‘prtng to Magadha’ (21a3). +

+ + +
+

+mācer +(n.) +‘mother’
+[mācer, mātri, mātär//mācera, -, mātäräṃ] +tänmastär ... mātri kektseñmeṃ ‘he was born from [his] mother's body’ (16b7/8= 18a5), so_i mācer śawästär ‘the mother nourishes [her] son’ (142a4). + -- matarṣṣe ‘prtng to a mother’ (only attested as second member of the compound pātär-matärṣṣe ‘prtng to father and mother,’ q.v.). +∎TchA mācar and B mācer reflect PTch *mācer from PIE *meh_atēr [: Sanskrit mātár-, Avestan mātar-, Greek mētēr (Doric mātēr), Latin māter, Old Irish máthir, Old English mōdor, OCS mati, Latvian mâte (all) ‘mother,’ Lithuanian mótė ‘woman, wife,’ Albanian motër ‘sister’ (< motrë < *meh_atr-eh_a- ‘maternal [sister]’), etc. (P:700-1; MA:385)] (Sieg, Siegling, 1908:927, VW:283-4). One should note the exact equivalence of the accusative mātär with Latin mātrem (and, if the identification is correct, the acc. pl. mātäräṃ with Latin mātrēs). Both the genitive singular and the nominative plural are analogical. The vowel -ā- of mācer is likely to be analogical after that of pācer ‘father’ or after the accusative mātär (or both) as I would expect PTch *ā..e- to have given o..o (see procer). +See also matarye. +

+ + +
+

+māṭhare +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘superintendent of a monastic school’
+[māṭhare, -, -//] +(110a8). +∎From BHS māṭhara-. +

+ + +
+

+māṇavi +(n.) +‘young girl’
+[māṇavi, -, -//] +Cañca māṇavi śem ‘the young girl Cañcā came’ (18b7/8). +∎From BHS māṇavikā-. +

+ + +
+

+mātar +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘monster’
+[mātar, matārntse, -//] +srukalleṣṣe mādār se pontäṃ nuknaṃ ‘this death monster swallows every-one’ (295b3). +∎TchA mātār and B mātar are both ultimately from BHS makara-, perhaps through the intermediary of Khotanese mādara-. +

+ + +
+

+mātulunk +(n.) +‘citron’ (‘Citrus medica Linn.’) (a medical ingredient)
+[mātalunk, -, -//] +(Y-1a5). +∎From BHS mātulunga-. +

+ + +
+

+māträdṛṣṭānt* +(n.) +‘maternal example’ (?)
+[-, -, māträdṛṣṭānt//] +mäkte maitrajñe käryorttante nauṣ tāka | māträ-dṛṣṭāntne kärsanalle aurtsesa (K-2b4). +‣For the meaning see the discussion by Sieg (1938:8). +

+ + +
+

+mātriṣlarcepi +‘?’
+/// mātriṣlārccepi [word separation uncertain] spārtto mā lkāṣle (324a4). +

+ + +
+

+mātre* +(adj.) +‘sharp’
+[m: -, -, mātre//] [f: //matrona, -, -] +räskarona matrona stāna ‘trees, bitter and sharp[-tasting]’ (K-8b6). + -- matre-wse ‘having a sharp poison’: matre-wse r[amt ar]ṣāklai ‘like a snake with sharp poison’ (S-4b1). +∎A derivative of PIE *h₂meh₁- ‘cut, mow’ [: Greek amáō ‘cut, mow,’ amētēr ‘reaper,’ amētērion ‘sickle,’ ámētos ‘harvest; harvested field,’ Old English māwan ‘mow,’ mǟd (f.) ‘mead, meadow,’ etc. (P:703; MA:258)], i.e. *h₂moh₁-tro- ‘cutting’ (VW:285, with differing details). +

+ + +
+

+mādar +See mātar. +

+ + +
+

+Mādali* +(n.) +‘Mādali’ (PN)
+[-, -, Mādaliṃ//] +(362a6). +

+ + +
+

+māntalñe +See mänt-. +

+ + +
+

+māndre* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//māndri, -, -] +[te kekl]y[auṣ]ormeṃ māndri läkleñ naittatsi aun[tsante] (370a3). +

+ + +
+

+māme* +(adj.) +‘unripe, raw’
+[m: -, mamepi, -//] +mamepi ypantse traksiṃ ‘awns of unripe barley’ (W-10a5). + -- mamauñe* ‘rawness, unripeness’: mamauñempaṃ [sic] rittoṣ teki = BHS āmānvitaṃ (Y-3b4). +∎TchA māmak and B māme reflect PTch *māme(ke)- but further connections are uncertain. Perhaps *(h_a)meh₁- ‘reap, mow’ + *-mo- ‘cuttable, reapable’ (cf. mātre), though such a meaning of *-mo- would seem to be unusual and ‘reapable’ should be ‘ripe’ not ‘raw.’ Perhaps instead from *meh₁(i)- ‘grow’ (more s.v. maiwe). The derivative might have meant ‘growing’ (and thus ‘not yet ripe’). Not with VW (631) a cross of mā ‘not’ and BHS āma(ka)- ‘raw.’ +See also perhaps maiwe. +

+ + +
+

+Māya +(n.) +‘Māya’ (PN of a queen)
+[Māya, -, -//] +(PK-15C-a4 [Thomas, 1986:121]). +

+ + +
+

+māyi(-) +‘?’
+se mastukārm śeśuwer postäṃ tot māyi/// (W-13a5). +

+ + +
+

+Mār* +(nm.) +‘the evil one, the adversary and tempter’
+[-, Marantse ~ Māräntse, Mār//-, -, Māräṃ] +Marantse śanmau = BHS Mārabhandanam (27b6), yukoṣ śtwer M[a]räṃ ‘conquering the four Māras’ (30b2). + -- Maraṃṣṣe* ‘prtng to the Māras’ (S-6a1); +
+Mār-ñäkte ‘Māra-god’ (281b6). +∎From BHS Māra-. +

+ + +
+

+mārg* +(n.) +‘way or path (pointed out by the Buddha)’
+[-, -, mārg//] +(185b3). +∎From BHS mārga-. +

+ + +
+

+Mārgavārg* +(n.) +‘Mārgavarga’ [one of the twelve chapters of the Udānavarga]
+[-, -, Mārgavārgäntse, -//] +(28a4). + -- mārgavārgäṣṣe ‘prtng to the Mārgavarga’ (S-4a4) +∎From BHS mārga-varga-. +

+ + +
+

+mārgānk* +(n.) +‘part, subsection of the way’
+[//mārgānkänta, -, -] +(30b7). + -- mārgankäntaṣṣe ‘prtng to the parts of the way’ (73b5). +∎From BHS mārga- + ānga- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+mārjāre* +(n.) +‘cat’
+[-, -, mārjare//] +(511a2). +∎From BHS mārjāra-. +

+ + +
+

+māla* +(n.) +a kind of intoxicating drink
+[-, -, māla//] +se ṣa[māne] mot māla trikelyesa śakse yokäṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk drinks alcohol or intoxicating beverage through befuddlement or brandy, pāyti’ [māla = BHS maireya] (H-149.X.3b1/2 [Couvreur, 1954b: 48]), tumeṃ pärwettsai mālasa yokalle ‘then it [is] to be drunk with an aged drink’ (W-33a5). + -- mālatstse* ‘drunken’: aräñcacu epreta Mārä[nts]= ādañc mālatsai ... ṣpyarkatai-me ‘O courageous and brave one, thou hast destroyed Māra's drunken bite’ (241a2/3). +∎Certainly a borrowing from Iranian but whether it is related in some fashion to Avestan mada- ‘intoxicating drink’ (so Bailey, 1959:131) or to madu- ‘mead’ (so Szemerényi, 1966:222, and Winter, 1971:219) is not clear (see also VW:630). In any case it must come from some variety of Iranian where *-d- gave -l-. +

+ + +
+

+māladaṇḍik* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, mālaṇḍik//] +māladaṇḍike [sic] (M-3a3), warkensa māladaṇḍik [k]ärskemane ‘strewing the māladaṇḍikā with garlands’ (M-3a4). +∎From BHS māladaṇḍikā-. +

+ + +
+

+Mālika +(n.) +‘Mālika’ (PN of a queen)
+[Mālika, -, -//] +(H-149.311a5). +

+ + +
+

+māllalñe +See mäll-. +

+ + +
+

+mālle +(adj.) +‘± ground-down, dull’
+[m: mālle, -, mālle//] +cmelne saṃsārne sportomane mālle mā ṣ tākoym [] tikṣnendri tākoym ‘in birth while turning in the saṃsāra may I not be dull, and may I have sharp senses’ (605b2/3). +∎Perhaps from *māllalle, the gerund of ¹mäl-, disguised by haplology (cf. stālle from *stāllalle or aulñe if from *aulälñe [Adams, 1982:135]). Isebaert (1978b:345) suggests a meaning ‘± idiot, ignorant’ since it seems to be used in opposition to tikṣṇendri and relates the word to Greek damálē ~ dámalis ‘young cow, heifer’ and dámalos ‘calf.’ VW (1988:98-99) looks to Hesychian admōlē ‘aporía, oligōría, ágnoia, ēsukhía’ which he takes to be from *sṃ- ‘together’ + *-dmōl- which he leaves unexplained. It is this latter part which he would equate with the Tocharian mālle. +See also possibly malyakke. +

+ + +
+

+māśak +(n.) +‘bean’ (‘Phaseolus radiatus Linn.’) (a medical ingredient)
+[māśak, -, -//māśakänta, -, -] +(W passim). +∎From BHS māśaka-. +

+ + +
+

+māṣavarṇi +(n.) +‘Teramnus labialis Spreng.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[māṣavarṇi, -, -//] +(W-13b2). +∎From BHS māṣaparṇī-. +

+ + +
+

+māṣikāni +(n.) +a kind of bean (a medical ingredient)
+[māṣikāni, -, -//] +(W-20a3). +∎From BHS māṣika-. +

+ + +
+

+māṣṣkne +See maśce. +

+ + +
+

+māskw +(n.) +‘± obstacle, hindrance, difficulty’
+[māskw, -, māskw//-, -, maskwanta] +mā=psāl mā māskwo srūkalñe [ce] ceṃśträ cek warñai ‘neither sword nor difficulty checks this death in any way’ (45b4/5), sanu maskākamñemeṃ [lege: maskw orkamñemeṃ] tal[ā]nt śaiyṣe sälkatai ‘out of danger, difficulty, and darkness hast thou pulled the suffering world’ (247b2). + -- maskwatstse* ‘difficult to traverse’: maskwa[tstsai] ytāri ykūwermeṃ = BHS viṣamaṃ mārgam āgamya (305a3); +
+maskwantaññeṣṣe ‘prtng to difficulties, hindrances’ (591b6). +∎Related to TchB amāskai ‘with difficulty’ (with an "intensive" prefix) and A māski ‘difficult’ but further connections are uncertain. B -māskai and māskw look like to deverbative nouns (in *-ōn- and *-wṇ respectively of a verb *māsk- ‘± struggle [against obstacles], be hindered’). It is semantically attractive to relate this Tocharian etymon to Lithuanian smagùs ‘heavy, hard (of a blow)’ and Greek mógos ‘toil,’ mógis ‘with toil and pain,’ mogerós ‘toiling, distressed, wretched’ (VW:284-5). The putative Tocharian verb would be (as if) from PIE *(s)mōg-sḱe/o-, though the Dehnstufe is somewhat unexpected. +See also amāsko and possibly maskwaṣṣalle. +

+ + +
+

+mäk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘run’; K ‘chase, hunt’
+G Ko. V /mäkā-/ [MPOpt. makoymar, -, makoytär//; Inf. makatsi]; Pt. I /mäkā-/ [ //-, -, mkānte]; +
+K Ko. IX /mäkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. makäs(t)si] +makoymar kälymiṃtsa cī ñaṣṣīma[r] ‘may I run in [all] directions and seek thee’ (78a4/5), [kwri no] cwi palsko käs[k]ā[trä waiptār] aunträ makatsi ‘if, however, his thought is scattered and begins to race’ (10a4); kärwāṣṣai witsakaisa räskare tsopaṃ-ne ... auntsante-ne ścīre makästsi ‘they poked him roughly with a reed root and began to chase him hard’ (88a1/2). + -- makalñe ‘river’ (scil. ‘that which runs’): [= BHS saritā] (PK-NS-107a2 [Thomas, 1976b:105]); +
+makalñetstse* ‘running’: [yo]k[o] ṣarm makalñetsa ‘thirst [is] the origin, the running one’ [makalñetsa = BHS saritā] (11a4). +∎From PIE *meuk- ‘slip away (from)’ [: Sanskrit muñcáti/mucáti ‘let loose, free,’ Lithuanian mùkti ‘slip away from, escape, run away,’ Russian OCS mъknuti sja ‘pass over,’ OCS mъčati ‘chase’ (P:744; MA:527)] (VW:285). From this root also comes TchA muk-/B mauk-, q.v. +See also makamo and mauk-. +

+ + +
+

+mäkte +(conj.) +(a) [comparative] ‘as’ [often conjoined with mant]; (b) [final] ‘so, in order that’; (c) [causal] ‘because’; (d) [temporal] ‘as, while’; (e) [manner] ‘how’; (f) (interrogative pronoun) ‘how’
+(a) mäkte cake ... [mā kl]autkot[rä] | mant kättankäṃ śaulanma mā ṣp wtentse klautkonträ ‘as the stream does not return, so lives pass over and do not return again’ [mäkte ... mant = BHS yathā ... evam] (3a4), [k]_u[se] parśi-ne ksa tuk sū weṣy entwe mäkte ramt wrauña ‘whoever would ask him something, he would say just the same, like a crow’ (28b4), mäkte = BHS yadvat (30a4), mäkte krokśaṃts cäñcarñe pyāpyai warstsi /// ‘as it [is] the pleasure of bees to smell the flower’ (313a2), /// yapoy aiśi yāmtsi mäkte nauṣ ‘to make the land appear as before’ (A-4a2); +
+(b) k[e]ktseñ ñke sp[ārta]sk[eṃ] mäkte lkāskeṃ aiśaumy=ā[śce] ‘they turn [their] bodie[s] so that the wise see [their] head[s]’ [mäkte = BHS yathā] (9b1), /// [ā]yor postaṃñe śak cakanma śātre mäkte omteṃ tañ maiyyane sankantse spelke kuśalapākṣ ayāto tākaṃ yāmtsi ‘[give us as] a last gift ten cāks [of] grain, so that, by thy power, the zeal and well-being of the community may be secured’ (TEB-74-7); +
+(c) mäkte ... sankrām ... wtetse lmāte sankantse ayāto nesaññe ste ‘because the monastery has been re-established, the situation of the monastery is comfortable’ (DAM.507a2); +
+(d) mäkte lyāka Varddhane tetkāk ṣ ceyna orocceṃ aṣanikaṃ | katkomñaisa arañce pluṣā-ne ram w_ināṣṣa-me ‘and when V. suddenly saw these great worthies, his heart leaped with joy, as it were, and he honored them’ (375b4); +
+(e) Maudgalyāyane tw ompostäṃ Jātiśroṇi [ākṣ=au]rtse mäkte śaul [kä]ttankäṃ ‘M. announced publicly to J. how life passes’ (3a2); +
+(f) tumeṃ no stamäṣṣälñe mäkte yentets ‘then how [is] the establishment of the winds?’ (41b5), akālk tsänkā-ne mäkte po kca tā onkorñai ñiś śwātsi källālle ṣeym ‘a wish arose to him: how might I obtain this porridge to eat?’ (107a3), mäkte = BHS katham (545a4). + -- mäkte-yäknesa ‘of whatever form’: mäkte-yäknesa = BHS yathārūpe (H-149-ADD.8a4 [Thomas, 1968b:218, fn. 1]). +∎(As if) from PIE *mé(n) + k^wu-tō (the ablative singular of the relative pronoun). +See For a full discussion, see mant. +

+ + +
+

+mäksu +(a) (interrogative pronoun); (b) (interrogative adjective); (c) (relative pronoun) +(a) ‘which, who’; (b) ‘which, what’; (c) ‘which, who’
+[m: mäksu, mäkcepi ~ mäkcwi ~ mäkcpi, mäkce_u//mäkcai ~ mäkci, mäkcenas, -] [f: -, -, mäktā_u//-, mäktoynas, -] [nt: mäktu, -, -//] +(a) mäksu wat wäntre lykaṃts kärkatsi a[māskai] ‘or what thing [is] difficult to steal by thieves?’ (14b7), mäkcepi nke kektseñe ‘whose body?’ (78b4), yälloṃts käll[ā]lñe mäksu = BHS āyatāna-pratilaṃbhaḥ kataraḥ (181a5); +
+(b) preksa ṣamāneṃ pudñäkte mäktā_u plācsa ṣmīcer yes akṣāre poyśiṃtse ‘the Buddha asked the monks: because of which saying are you smiling?’ (3a6/7), mäkce_u preke = BHS yadā (12a6), mäkce_u-ykeṣṣa kektseñe ‘to which place does the body belong?’ (41a3), [mä]kcwi onolmeṃtse śaul n[anautau] [mäkcwi = BHS katamasya] (524a6), mäkcew yāmor nta yammaskentr onolmi ‘what deed, indeed, do beings do?’ (K-2a6); +
+(c) cauwak yakne enkaskemttär mäkcau procer eṅ[sa]te ‘we take that very way that [our] brother has taken’ (108a4), mäksu yñakteṃ = BHS yo deweṣu [sic] (198b5), mäktoynas = BHS yāsāṃ (199b1), mäkcenas = BHS yeṣāṃ (199b2), mäkcpi = BHS yasya (311b5), mäktu = BHS yat (545b5), /// p[e]pärkormeṃ yamor krentä näkcpi [lege: mäkcpi] okonta wärpänoyträ ‘having asked after the good deed whose fruits he enjoyed’ (588a8), intsu no yāmor mäkcewsa wnolmi ette cmelne tänmaskenträ ‘what, however, [is] the deed through which creatures are [re-]born in a lower birth?’ (K-7b4). +‣As a relative pronoun mäksu usually signals a definite relative clause which is non- correlative (cf. k_uce which is usually used with indefinite correlative clauses). +∎In Indo-European terms we have *mé(n) (see also mant and mäkte) + *k^wu-so (cf. k_use) + *u (as in sū [< *so + u] as opposed to se [< *so alone]) (VW:285, with differing details). +

+ + +
+

+mäkomtäyne +‘?’
+///ś ̇ṃ mäkomtäyne [word separation uncertain] (514b2). +

+ + +
+

+mänk- +(v.) +G ‘be deprived of, suffer the loss of; lack [impersonal];’ K ‘overcome’
+G Ps. III /mänke-/ [MP -, -, mänketär//]; Ko. V /mänkā-/ [A // mänkām, -, -; MP -, -, mänkātär//]; Pt. I /mänkā-/ [A mänkāwa, -, -//]; PP /mänko-/; +
+K Ko. IX /mänkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [AOpt. mankäṣṣim, -, -//] +mänketrä = BHS parājayet (16a7), śātre lauke mänketär-me ‘we lack grain’ [lit. ‘grain is lacking to us’] (TEB-74-4); anityātṣṣe sanaṃmpa eṣe cimpa mänkāmo (231b5), ekñinta mā [mä]n[k]ān[tä]r-me ‘[if] their possessions are not lost’ (24b3); se rano ṣamāne mänkau mäsketrä ‘this monk is also [to be] deprived [of his right to live in the community]’ [mänkau mäsketrä = BHS pārājiko bhavati] [H-149-ADD. 8a6f (Thomas, 1969:303, fn. 77]); ayātai[cc]e onkipṣe yūkoym palsko mankäṣṣim po kleśanma ‘may I conquer the untamable shameless spirit, may I overcome all kleśas’ (S-7a2). + -- mänkorñe* ‘deprivation, lack’: /// kleśanmaṣṣai wetane mänkor-ñes[a] ‘by deprivation in the struggle with kleśas’ (277a3). +∎TchA mänk- and B mänk- reflect PTch *mänk- from PIE *menk-, otherwise surely attested only in Germanic [: OHG mengen (< *mangjan) ‘be without, lack, miss,’ mangolōn ‘id.,’ MHG manc ‘lack’ (P:729; MA:343)] (Jacobsohn, 1934:212, VW:289). Despite VW, it would seem natural to include Lithuanian meñkas ‘feeble, weak; scanty; insignificant’ with this etymon (cf. Meillet, 1912:112) and also Latin mancus ‘maimed, infirm’ (both from *‘lacking’), Sanskrit mankú- ‘± wobbly.’ +See also menki, mäñcuṣka, and mäñcuṣke. +

+ + +
+

+mäñcuṣka +(nf.) +‘princess’
+[mäñcuṣka, -, mäñcuṣkai//mäñcuṣkana, -, -] +cwī no lānte tkācer mñcuṣka temtsate ‘to this king, however, was born a daughter, a princess’ (349b4). +∎Derivative of mäñcuṣke with feminine -ā. +

+ + +
+

+mäñcuṣke +(nm.) +‘prince’
+[mäñcuṣke, mäñcuṣkentse, mäñcuṣkeṃ//mäñcuṣkanta, -, mäñcuṣkanta (= voc.)] +saswa pstināṣṣar pi mcuṣkant=ā/// ‘O lord, will you not silence [these] princes?’ (53a2), pyāmtso säswentse yaitkor mcuṣkanta ‘do, princes, the command of the lord!’ (589b3). +∎TchA mäśkit and B mäñcuṣke reflect PTch *mäñśu- with different diminutive suffixes. PTch *mäñśu- is from PIE *m(e)nk-eu- and related most closely formally to Sanskrit mankú- ‘± wobbly’ and most closely semantically to Lithuanian meñkas ‘small, etc.’ (Pedersen, 1944:34, VW:292-3). They are all derivatives of the same PIE *menk- which gave rise to mänk-. +

+ + +
+

+mänt- +(vi./vt.) +(active/tr.) ‘remove (utterly) from its place, destroy; pour out’; (middle/tr.) ‘move from its place, disturb, meddle with’; (middle/intr.) ‘fall into misfortune, be irritated, feel malice’
+Ps. VI /mäntänā-/ [A -, -, mäntanaṃ//]; Ps. XII /mäntäññ^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, mäntaṃ// -, -, mäntaññeṃ; MP mäntaññemar, -, mäntantär//; MPImpf. -, -, mäntaññītär// -, -, mäntaññyentär; Ger. mäntalle]; Ko. V /māntā-/ [A -, -, māntaṃ//; MP -, -, māntatär//; Inf. māntatsi]; Pt. I /māntā-/ [A mantāwa, -, -// -, -, mantāre]; PP /māmāntā-/ +mintanaṃ mānta[tsi] = BHS siñcet siñcayed vā or siñcet secayed vā (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1987a:173]); karsnaṃ pärmank ṣañ śāmnaṃts mäntaṃ pw akālkänta ‘[poverty and suffering] cut off hope to his own followers and destroy all wishes’ (3b7), mäntaññeṃ akālk kselyñeṣ[ṣe] ‘they destroy the wish for extinguishment’ (35b2), tanāpatentsa ostwasa ekñintasa entseño mäntañyentär ṣemi ‘some became malicious out of envy concerning benefactors, houses, and possessions’ (31b7=32b1), tusa kattāki mäntañyenträ ‘thus the householders were filled with malice’ (337a2/3), [ja]s ja mäntalle [] a tane yapäṣṣäṃ ‘[in] jas ja [is] to be struck, one enters a [instead]’ (551b1); pälsko māntäṃ [sak] kl[au]tko[y]t[rä] mā ṣäp l[au] ra (245a5/b1), inte no ynemane snai prayok kenantse āre māntatär-ne ‘if, however, while going along he disturbs the plow without design on the earth’ (331a1), [mā mäkciya mä]ntañemar mā alyek watkäskau māntatsi ‘I myself did not become filled with malice nor did I order anyone else to be filled with malice’ (596b5); wnolme mamāntaṣ cew palskosa ‘a being with such an evil-minded spirit’ (K-3b6), mamāntaṣ ṣpä palskosa mā ñiś reki weñ im nta krentaṃts ‘may I never speak a word out of malicious spirit to the good’ (S-3b1), mamāntaṣ ra yolainne mā ñi tākoy māntalyñe k_uce ṣ krentäṃnne ‘may I not be irritated at the evil ones, and [may there be no] irritation to those who [are] good’ (S-4b2/3). + -- māntalyñe ‘(mental) irritation, malice’: māntalñe = BHS vyāpāda- (171a4), māntalñesa śak krenta yāmorntats ṣparkäṣälñesa ‘though malice and through the dissolution of the ten good deeds’ (K-8a5). +∎TchA mänt- and B mänt- reflect PTch *mänt- from PIE *menth₂- [: Sanskrit mánthati/mathnā́ti/mathā́yati ‘stirs, whirls; churns; hurts, destroys,’ Lithuanian mę̃sti ‘stir, agitate,’ OCS męsti ‘turbare,’ motati sę ‘agitari,’ and other nominal derivatives in Italic and Germanic (P:732; MA:547)]. One should note there we have an exact and double morphological equation in Sanskrit mathnā-/mathāya- and Tocharian mäntänā-/mäntäññ-. The first pair reflects PIE *mṇtneh₂- while the second reflects PIE *mṇtnh₂ye/o-. Thomas, 1987a:173-174, is apparently the first to suggest an equation with Sanskrit manth- but he does not mention the double morphological correspondence. We see here a shift in meaning *‘stir’ > ‘disturb’ > ‘irritate’ or ‘harm’ > ‘destroy’ at least partially paralleled in Sanskrit. Not with VW (288-9) from *mänk-t- and related to mänk- or with Anreiter (1984:95) from *mend- ‘harm’ [: Latin menda ‘bodily defect’ and Sanskrit mindā- ‘id.’]. +See also mäntarṣke, amāntatte and, more distantly perhaps, mänts-. +

+ + +
+

+mäntarṣke +(ad.) +‘evil’
+[m: mäntarśke, -, -//] +mäntarśkeṃ [sic] śaul śāmnats ñke mā=rsenträ mrauskalñe ‘evil now [is] the life of men [for] they do not evoke aversion to the world’ (3b2). +∎Derived from mänt-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+mäntrākka +See mant. +

+ + +
+

+mänta +See manta. +

+ + +
+

+mänts- +(vi.) +‘be sorrowful, afflicted; lament’
+Ps. II /ments^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, mentṣtär// -, -, mentsentär]; Ps. VI /māntsänā-/ [MP -, -, mantsanatär//]; Ko. V /māntsā-/ [MP // -, -, māntsantär]; Pt. Ib /mäntsā-/ [MP -, -, mantsate//] +meṃ[ṣträ] = BHS śocate (13a4), laute katkoṣ meṃsenträ nraintane cai wawāyoṣ yāmo[rntan]ts[o] [meṃsenträ = BHS śocante] (11a4); /// m[ā]ka räskre mantsate [lege: mantsatai?] /// (208b3). + -- māntsalñe ‘sorrow, heaviness of heart’: tu lyelyakormeṃ ... ñakte śle māṃtsalyñe śanoś weṣṣäṃ ‘having seen this the god says with sorrow to [his] wife’ (88a4). +∎Etymology unclear. Perhaps we have an extension in -s- (a generalization from a se/o-present?) of the PIE *menth₂- seen in AB mänt- (q.v.) ‘remove, disturb, meddle with.’ VW (289) accepts a connection with mänt- but implausibly derives both from mänk-. +See also mentsi and, more distantly, mänt-. +

+ + +
+

+märkär +See markär. +

+ + +
+

+märkwace* +(n.) +‘(upper) leg, thigh’
+[-, -, märkwac//märkwaci, -, -] +śtwer märkwaci soylñeṣṣi p[alskalñ]/// ‘four-legged [i.e. swift] [are] the conceptions of satiation’ (11b1), śwālyai märkwatsa [sic] ok-pokai Viṣṇ[u] saiwaisa no Mahiśvare märkwactsa tañ kau_urṣa-pkai ‘on the right thigh [is] the eight-armed Viṣṇu on the left, however, on thy thigh [is] the chowried Mahiśvara’ [this would appear to be a "top-down" description; in the previous verse there is reference to the āntse, in the following, to ckāckai] (74b5). +‣This word is at least partially overlapping in meaning with mlyuwe, q.v. +∎This word reflects a PIE *mṛǵ^huti- ‘± short thing,’ a derivative of *mr(e)ǵ^hu- ‘short’ [: Prakrit múhu- ‘short,’ Avestan mərəzu-jīti- ‘short-lived,’ Greek brakhús ‘short,’ Latin brevis ‘id.,’ Gothic gamaúrgjan ‘shorten’ (P:750-1; MA:515)]. A particularly important comparison is with Greek brakhīōn ‘upper arm’ (VW, 1963b:43, 1976:290). +See also ckācko. +

+ + +
+

+märtk- +(vt.) +‘shave’
+Ko. V /märtkā-/ (see abstract); Pt. Ia /märtkā-/ [MP -, -, märtkāte//] + pū[d]ñ[ä]ktemeṃ ṣamāññe ot rītāte āśc [mä]rtkā[t]e ‘he sought monas-ticism from the Buddha and thus he shaved [his] head’ (365a5). +‣Though equally rare, the examples of märtk- in TchA show an identical meaning. Thus we have (130b2) lap märtkānt ‘they shave [their own] heads’ or (100a2, 304a4) lap märtko ‘having shaved the head.’ + -- martkalñe ‘shaving,’ only in the derived adjective +
+ -markalñetstse: mā-markalñe[tste] ‘unshaven’ = BHS na muṇḍitena (309a4). +∎TchA märtk- and B märtk- reflect PTch *märtk- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Perhaps with VW (1941:65) we might think of a connection with Latin mordeō ‘bite,’ Sanskrit mṛdnāti/mardáyati (= Latin mordeō ‘crushes, presses, rubs off,’ Greek amérdō ‘rob’ (P:736-7; MA:490)]. A semantic development *‘rub off/away’ > *‘scrape off/away’ > ‘shave’ seems reasonable. Certainly not with VW (1976:291) from *märktk- and related to *mreǵ^hu- ‘short.’ +

+ + +
+

+märs- +(vt.) +‘forget’
+G Ps. III /märse-/ [MP -, -, märsetär//; Ger. märselle]; Ko. V /märsā-/ [A -, mārsat, -//; AOpt. marsoym, -, -//; Inf. marsatsi]; Pt. Ia /märsā-/ [A märsāwa, märsāsta, marsa// -, -, märsāre]; PP /märso-/; +
+K Ps. IX /märsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. marsäṣṣeñca] (K). +/// [mä]rseträ nau ṣäññana wäntarwā po päst ‘he forgets completely all earlier things’ (121a7); [mā toṃ] waloṃ aräñc ñi cmelmeṃ cämel mā märsoym ‘may these not cover my heart; may I not forget birth [comes] from birth’ (229b2/3), tarya śpālmeṃ naumyenta mā ñiś marsoy[m] ‘may I not forget the three excellent jewels’ (S-2b2); mantaṃta pasi [sic] märsasta pālatai-ne ṣukomtsa ṣeme śloktsa ‘never hast thou forgotten to guard; thou hast praised him for seven days with the same śloka’ (296b1=297.1a4), ṣañ-yāmorṣṣai ytārisa waiptār maiytar-ñ cai ṣñaṣṣi ñiś märsāre ‘my own went separately on the way of their own deeds; they forgot me’ (TEB- 63-01); walo aknātsa su märsau ṣañ āñm ‘this foolish king [has] forgotten himself’ (81a2). +∎Tch A märs- (present: märsnā-) and B märs- reflect PTch *märs- from PIE *mers- ‘forget’ [: Sanskrit mṛṣyate ‘forgets,’ Armenian moṙanam ‘forget,’ Lithuanian mirštù ‘id.,’ Old English mierran (< *morseye/o-) ‘disturb, confuse,’ Khotanese hāmuru ‘forget’ (< Proto-Iranian *fra- marš), Hittite marse- ‘be false’ (P:737-8; MA:209)] (VW, 1941:62, 1976:291). The quasi-exact equations of TchA märsnā- and Armenian moṙana- on the one hand and TchB märse- (< *mṛsh₁-ó-) and Hittite marse- (< *mṛseh₁-) on the other strongly suggest that both present formations may be old. +

+ + +
+

+mäl-¹ +(vt.) +‘crush, repress, oppress; disavow, deny, disdain’
+Ps. Xa /mälläsk^'ä/_e- [MP -, -, mällastär//; MPImpf. -, -, mälläṣṣitär//]; Ko. V /māllā-/ (see abstract); PP (see examples) + aiśamñe cpi mällasträ waipeccesa mā kāccaṃ ‘his knowledge oppresses him (or he disavows his knowledge); he does not rejoice with possessions’ (127a7); lyakäṃ kr[au]pträ | wi-pewaṃ | śtwer-pewaṃ | makā- pewaṃ | klepe mällasträ ‘thieves he gathers; the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, the many-footed; he suppresses theft’ (H-149.ADD.8b3 [H:149]), waike ārwer y[ām ṣi]trä [] mälläṣṣitär sū eṅwa pratinta ‘he readied a lie; he disavowed received conclusions’ (19a4); k[l]eśanmaṣṣe krāke[sa pa]lsko mā m[a]māloṣ [sic] [aśari]nta ‘the acāryas [who have] not crushed [their] spirit with kleśa-filth’ (159b6). +‣The preterite participle has an unexpected shape. We would expect either mamālaṣ or memaloṣ, reflecting /māmālā-/ (if the root vowel /ā/ is the result of ā-umlaut) and /memälo-/ respectively. The form we have, mamālo- suggests that the root vowel -ā- is original, a hypothesis that would be confirmed by the derivative malyakke ‘young, puerile,’ q.v. from /mālyäkke/, if, in fact, the latter is a derivative. +
+Tocharian lexical tradition (i.e. Sieg and Siegling, 1949, Krause and Thomas, 1964, and Van Windekens, 1976) recognizes but one mäl-, glossed as ‘crush, repress, oppress’ and the like. This gloss is certainly correct for B mälläsk^'ä/_e- and A mläsk-, with the latter attested only once at 413b2: /// yśalmas mläsmār where a translation ‘I crush/repress/disavow my sexual desires’ would certainly seem appropriate. (One should note that A mäläs- with degemination of the -l- is regular in that language.) Related to this mäl- are mil- ‘hurt, wound’ and mely- ‘crush,’ qq.v. +
+Very different is the mäl- found relatively extensively in A which is normally taken as the Grundverb corresponding to the Causative mäläs-. This mäl- shows a class II or III present, mäl(a)- (the forms attested do not allow us to choose which class it belongs to but in either case it is clearly thematic). Contextual examples include: (312b8) wsokoneyo ṣeñc mloṣṣoki ñäktañ, (22a6) mlamānn oki sukyo, or (398b4) [m]l[a]mānn oki wsokoneyo ptāñkät käṣṣinac tränkäṣ. Sieg (1951:28) translates the first example as something like ‘the gods were overwhelmed with joy as it were’ but we must note that ‘overwhelm’ is not the immediately obvious meaning here and it is not the extended meaning ‘repress, disavow’ etc., of ‘crush’ that we find elsewhere. The context would seem to suggest ‘burst’ or ‘overflow’ or the like. Thus I take this mäl(a)- as a separate verb ‘overflow’ (cf. mlamo). Existing in B only apparently is a third mäl- (²mäl-) ‘argue’ discussed in the following entry. + -- māllalñe ‘crushing’: /// cey talāñc yanmoṃ ye[r]k[wanta]ntsa māl[lalñe] /// ‘those [who are] suffering might achieve crushing by the wheels’ (362a7). +∎TchA mläs- and B mälläsk- reflect PTch *mälnäsk- from PIE *mḷnh_x-sḱe/o- [: Sanskrit mṛṇāti/mṛṇati ‘grind,’ Latin molere ‘id.,’ Old Irish melim ‘I grind,’ Gothic malan ‘grind,’ Lithuanian málti ‘grind,’ OCS meljǫ ‘id,’ etc. (P:716-7; MA:247)]. The equation with Sanskrit mṛṇāti is, of course, particularly close (VW:286, with differing details). +See also amāllatte, mālle, malyakke, mällarṣke, and, more distantly, mil-, mely-, mlut-, and mlutk-. +

+ + +
+

+mäl-² +(vi.) +‘argue, dispute’ (?)
+Ps. Xa /mällāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, mällāstär//] +k_uce [k]ca yāmäṃ tuk mällāsträ wasto ta[ne] peparku /// ‘whatever he would do he argues (refuses?), [when] asked again ...’ (63b7). +‣The differentiation of these two verbs (¹mäl- and ²mäl-) is likely on both semantic and formal grounds (cf. this discussion under the previous entry). It is supported by the possibility of connecting moliñ ‘± disputes’ with ²mäl-. +∎For an etymological discussion, see moli(ye). +

+ + +
+

+mälk- +(vt.) +‘± interweave, bind on (jewels, armor)’ (?)
+Ps. IXa /mälkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, mälkaṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. V /mälkā-/ [Inf. malkatsi]; Pt. Ia /mälkā-/ [MP -, -, mälkāte// -, -, mälkānte]; PP /mälko-/ +tusa rsaṃ musnāträ [mäl]käṣṣäṃ pokaine ‘thus he stretches out, raises, and folds [his] arms’ (119a2); tsaiñe mälkāte ‘[s]he bound on the jewel’ (H-149- ADD.12b3 [Stumpf, 1970:32]), /// [stmo]rmeṃ kertteṃ onkor mälkānte ‘standing [in the door], they put [their] swords together’ (?) or ‘bound on their swords’ (?) (79a2); /// mässäkwä [lege: pässäkwä] t=onkor mälko tākaṃ ‘the garlands, they will be woven together’ (?) (118a6), /// mälkau kreñcä samākane ‘binding on the good cuirass (?)’ (214b2), [k_uśa]lamūlänta mäl-kauwwa (391b4). +‣The TchA equivalent does not help to determine the meaning very closely. The attestations at 11b6 and 12b1 give us kaśal mälk- ‘± to gather together.’ Better are the attestations at YQ-1.2a5 and -1.3a1 (Pinault, 1990:190-4). Here we have kälnmāṃ mlänkmāṃ yetwesyo ‘with tinkling, [well-]arranged jewels.’ + -- malkalñe (K). +∎TchA mälk- and B mälk- reflect PTch *mälk- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Perhaps *mälk- is from PIE *melk- ‘put, weave together’ seen in Hittite malk-/malkiya- (‘verwickeln, zusammenflechten’), as cautiously suggested by VW (286) and more certainly by Pinault (1990:190-4), and OHG malha ‘sack, bag’ (< *mólko-; cf. P:747). Without assuming a PIE *melk-, VW posits a connection of AB mälk- with Greek mélos ‘member,’ etc. (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:150, VW, 1941:64, 1976:286), but any such connection, if it exists, is very distant. +See also milykautstse. +

+ + +
+

+mällarṣke +(adj.) +‘pressing’ (?) or ‘pliant’ (?)
+[m: mällarṣke, -, -//mällarṣkañ] [f: //mällarṣkana, -, -] + ṣmare mällarṣke mäsketär-ne palsko ṣpä wlaiśke pautarṣke ‘smooth and flexible/pliant is his spirit, soft and flattering’ (K-10b1), papāṣṣorñe mällarṣkaṃ wāṣmoñ tākoyṃ-ñ ‘may there be friends pressing me to moral behavior’ (S-6a5). +∎Whatever the meaning, surely a derivative of mäl-¹, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+mäścakene (~ mäśśakene) +(n.) +a medical ingredient much used in bathing solutions (a whitener?)
+[mäścakene, -, -//] +aṣiye malkwersa ṣukt ṣpärkkaṣ ṣälle mäśśakene kos āñme se laiko tucepi yetsente ‘it [is] to be dissolved seven [times] in goat's milk, as much mäścakene as desired [may be added]; this wash [is] for yellow skin’ (W-10b1/2). +

+ + +
+

+mäṣkwatstse * +(adj.) +‘having a braid’
+[m: //-, -, mäṣkwacceṃ] +nauṣaññeṃ mäṣkwaceṃmpa = BHS purāṇajaṭilai (527b1). +∎A possessive adjective in -tstse, derived from an unattested *maṣkw ‘braid.’ Isebaert (1978[80]) suggests a putative PIE *ms-eg-u-, related to *mes-g- ‘entwine, enlace’ (cf. meske ‘knot’ from *mosgo-). +

+ + +
+

+mäs- +See i-. +

+ + +
+

+mäsakäṣṣe* +(adj.) +prtng to a certain species of flower
+[f: mäsakäṣṣa, -, -//] +mäsakäṣa pyāpyo waltsanalya (M-2a5/6). +

+ + +
+

+mäsk-¹ +(vi.) +‘be; become; find oneself’
+G Ps. III /mäske-/ [MP -, mäsketar, mäsketär// -, -, mäskentär; MPImpf. -, -, mäskītär//; APart. mäskeñca (‘being (at), present’); MPPart. mäskemane; Ger. mäskelle (as adj. = ‘where one is supposed to be’)]; Ko. V /mäskā-/ (see abstract); Pt. Ia /mäskā-/ [A -, -, maska//] +mā twe ñi käṣṣi mäsketar ‘thou art not my teacher’ (78b2), [sä]swe k_use tākaṃ māñye mäsketrä ‘whoever would be lord finds himself a slave’ (128b6), [i]te mäsketrä = BHS āpūryate (H-149.242b3 (Couvreur, 1966:169)), mänkau mäsketrä = BHS pārājiko bhavati (H-149-ADD.8a7 [Thomas, 1969:303, fn. 77]), lutas[k]entr ostmeṃ käṣṣinta mske[ntä]r [sic] ‘they leave their houses [= become monks] and become teachers’ (15b5=17b7), aiśmw akn[ā]tsa wat āṃtpi ksa ṣp mā=läm mäskentär ‘wise man or fool, the both are not far apart’ (28b3), mäskenträ pākri = BHS prādurbhavanti (K-8b4), stām ñor ṣek su mäskīträ ‘he was always to be found under the tree’ (3b3), mäskeñcañ śtwer ṣa[māni] ‘four monks being present’ (4b4), [c]owä preke Yurpāṣkeṃ sankrāmne mäsk[e]ñca ‘being at that time in the Y. monastery’ (Lévi [1913: 320]), mäskemane tu-yknesa kleśa[nma] palsko melyen-ne ‘being thus, the kleśas crush the spirit’ (A-1a7), [tu]sa mskelle [sic] śrāddh=empreṃtse tak[arṣke] ‘thus one [is] to be believing, truthful, and clear’ (65b7), sā ste ytāre [sic] poyśiña tesa poyśi maskele [sic] ‘this is the Buddha's way; thus the Buddha [is] where he's supposed to be’ (296a2/3), mäskelle = BHS bhava- (PK-NS-53a2 [Pinault, 1988:100]); /// [u]pp[ā]läts[e] kaumiye maska Ylai[ñäkte] /// (357b1). +∎TchA mäsk- and B mäsk- reflect PTch *mäsk- regularly from PIE *mṇsḱe/o- (for the loss of a nasal immediately before -s-, cf. mīsa) from PIE *men- ‘remain’ [: Avestan man- ‘remain, wait for,’ Greek ménō/mímnō ‘remain,’ Latin maneō ‘remain,’ Hittite mimma- ‘refuse, decline’ (< *mimnV- ‘stand pat’) (P:729; MA:482)] (Meillet, 1911:456; also Melchert, 1977:105-6). Not with VW (292) from *dm-e-sḱe/o- ‘find oneself in a house.’ One should also compare TchA omäskeṃ ‘bad’ which Hilmarsson (1986:192) would derive from PTch *e(n)- (the negative prefix) + -mäsk- + -ain-. For the semantics he compares Sanskrit astatya- ‘wrong,’ ábhva- ‘terrible,’ Old Norse óvärr ‘unpeaceful.’ +

+ + +
+

+mäsk-² +(vt.) +‘exchange’ [weṣ mäsk- ‘take the guise of, disguise oneself as’]
+Ko. IXb /mäskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, maskäṣṣäṃ//; Inf. maskäs(t)si]; Ipv. IV /mäskäṣṣā-/ [MPSg. maskäṣṣar]; Pt. II /myāskā-/ [A myāskawa, -, myāska//; MP myāskamai, -, myāskate//]; PP /memäsku-/ +k_use ṣamāne naumīye naumīyesa maskäṣṣäṃ pärkāwṣe imesa ‘whatever monk trades a jewel for a jewel with the thought of [financial] advantage’ (337a3); tumeṃ pakwāreṃntsa myāska-ne [] ce_u prekar ate kampāl yamaṣasta sū weña Upanandi myāskawa (337a5), Indre kārpa rṣākäññe weṣ myāskate ‘Indra descended and disguised himself as a seer’ (107a7), nāṭakktse ra yäkne yäkne āñm myāskate ‘as an actor has exchanged himself [for] role [after] role’ (290a7); Ylaiñikte rṣākäññe weṣ memisku ‘Indra disguised as a seer’ (107a8). +∎With Melchert (1977:107) TchB ²mäsk- is probably not related to A māsk- ‘juggle.’ He takes ²mäsk- to be from PIE *mi-sḱe/o-, a derivative of *mei- ‘(ex)change’ [: Sanskrit máyate ‘exchanges,’ Latvian míju ‘exchange,’ and nominal derivatives in Latin, Celtic, Germanic, Iranian and Baltic (e.g. Latin commūnis, Gothic gamains) (P:710; MA:184)]. Normier (1980:258) offers what might be taken as a variant hypothesis in taking the Tocharian word to reflect PIE *h_amig^w-sḱe/o- [: Greek ameíbō ‘(ex)change’]. Not with VW (284) as a causative of ^lmäsk-. +See also misko and probably mi-². +

+ + +
+

+mätsts- +(vi.) +‘starve’
+Ps. III /mätstse-/ [MP // -, -, mätstsentär]; Ko. V /mätstsā-/ [Inf. mätstātsi] +ot ce_u kestsa mätstsentär ‘then by this hunger they starve’ (590a7); eṃṣke tot [au]ntsante käṃntenma yältsenma [tmanenma]sa onolmi mätstsātsi ‘then creatures began by the hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands to starve’ (350a6). + -- mätstsor: /// [sruko]yentär mätstsors=o[mpostäṃ] ‘after-wards they died of hunger’ (25a4). +∎TchA nätsw- and B mätsts- reflect PTch *nätsw- (with an assimilation in B of *n- to m- under the influence of the following *-w-; the subsequent assimilation of *-tsw- to -tsts- is also regular) from PIE *n-h₁d^s-tw-ye/o-, a derivative of *h₁ed- ‘eat’ (P:287ff.; MA:175 ). Compare particularly Greek nēsteúō (< *n-h₁d^s-tew-ye/o-) ‘fast’ and nêstis ‘fasting’ and nêstēs ‘one who fasts’ (VW, 1961b:380, 1976: 316-7, with differing details). +

+ + +
+

+mi +(particle) +‘± just as much as, likewise’ (?)
+śak-śwerne kapyāres klese masa tarya tom wākte tau mi amokce[s] yikṣye ‘on the 14th went for the workers three tau of klese and one tau of wākte; just as much flour for the artisans’ (435a3), also (449a3, 462a3). +∎Meaning dubious, etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+mi-¹ +(vt.) +‘hurt, harm (grievously)’
+Ps. IXb /miyäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, miyäṣṣäṃ//; AImpf. -, -, miyäṣṣi//; MP -, -, miyästär//]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [Inf. miyäs(t)si]; Pt. II /myāyā-/ [A myāyawa, myāyasta, -//; MP -, -, myāyate//]; PP /memiyu-/ + yokye-kleśo mi[y]äṣṣäṃ [tane wn]olmeṃ saṃsārne nuskaṣṣäṃ[-m]e ‘the thirst-kleśa harms creatures in the saṃsāra and crushes them’ (11b5), /// mā palyśitär mā r=āl[y]en[kä]ṃ mīyäṣṣi ‘[the good word] did not torture, does not harm others’ [mīyäṣṣi = BHS vihiṃseta] (20b2); ṣañ āñm myāsta [lege: myāyasta] (239b4), tusa māka myāyate ‘thus he was harmed a great deal’ (H-149-ADD.7a4 [Thomas, 1957:126]); emalyesa tsetsarkoṣ memyoṣ yokaisa ‘tortured by heat, hurt by thirst’ (29a6). + -- miyäṣṣälñe ‘harm, hurt, damage’: mīyäṣṣälñenta = BHS upāyāsā (156a5), snai-m[iyäṣṣälñe] = BHS ahiṃsā (H-149.315a2 [Thomas, 1974:84]), snai mīyäṣlñe ṣek tākoym kektseñ reki palskosa po wnolmenne ‘may I always be without harm to beings in body word and spirit’ (S-3a5); +
+miyäṣṣälñetstse* only in the compound adjective snai-miyäṣṣälñetstse ‘harmless’ (541a8). +∎TchA mi- (with a present stem /miyäs-/ and participle /mamiyu-/) and B mi- reflect PTch *mi- from PIE *mei- ‘damage, diminish’ [: Sanskrit minā́ti ~ minóti ‘lessen, diminish, destroy,’ Greek minúthō ‘reduce,’ Latin minuō ‘diminish,’ and nominal derivatives in Balto-Slavic, Germanic, and Celtic (P:711; MA:351)] (VW, 1941:67, 1976:297). The PTch causative present *mi-äsk- pre-supposes as Grundverb *miye- (Ps.), *miyā- (Ko.). The latter would be the equivalent of Greek (Cyrenaean) aorist subjunctive miãi ‘be defiled.’ +

+ + +
+

+mi-² +(vt.) +‘± befool’
+Reduplicated preterite /memyā-/ +memyas makci ono[l]meṃ poyknesa mā tuntse [k]s[elñe] ‘you yourselves befool creatures in every way; [there is] no extinguishment thereby’ (28a7). +∎Instead of the very strange root shape mem- as is usually supposed (cf. VW:296), it is far better to see memyas as a reduplicated preterite such as are common in TchA as the regular way of creating "causative" preterites (e.g. cacäl ‘he lifted’). The root ²mi- ‘deceive’ (to be distinguished from ¹mi- ‘harm’) is the descendant of PIE mei- ‘± exchange’ [: Sanskrit máyate ‘exchanges,’ Latvian míju ‘exchange,’ Lithuanian maĩnas (m.), Latvian mains, ‘exchange,’ Latin commūnis ‘common,’ Gothic gamains ‘id.,’ and particularly OHG mein ‘falsch, trügerisch,’ Old English mān ‘id.’ (cf. P:710; MA:160) and thus related to B mäsk- ‘exchange,’ q.v. TchB mäsk- ‘exchange’ and mi- ‘befool’ would have a semantic relationship similar to German tauschen ‘exchange for, swap’ and täuschen ‘deceive, delude.’ See Adams, 1993b:35-36. +

+ + +
+

+mik- +(vi.) +‘close the eyes’
+PP /miko-/ +/// sū śasträ miko_u eśne cok rāmtä (134a6), mikoṣ ṣäp = BHS nimilitāś ca (545a2). +∎From PIE *meig^h-/meik- ‘close the eyes’ [: Lithuanian (už-)mìgti ‘fall asleep,’ Latvian (àiz-)migt ‘id.,’ miêgt ‘close the eyes,’ Russian Church Slavonic megnuti ‘blink,’ OCS sъ-měžiti ‘close the eyes;’ Latin micāre ‘move quickly, flash,’ Old Sorbian mikać ‘blink,’ etc. (P:712-3; MA:109)] (VW, 1970b:526, 1976:297, with differing details). +

+ + +
+

+mīt +(n.) +‘honey’
+[mit, -, mit//] +śuwoy katkemane ālisa weṃṣy=eṃntwe mīt śakk[ar ram no] ‘she may eat joyfully excrement from [her] palm as if it were honey or sugar’ (42b5). + -- mitäṣṣe ‘prtng to honey’ (W-22b3). +∎From PIE *méd^hu- (nt.) ‘honey, mead’ [: Sanskrit mádhu- ‘honey, mead,’ Avestan maδu- ‘alcoholic drink,’ Greek méthu ‘wine,’ Old Irish mid ‘mead,’ Old English meodu ‘id.,’ Lithuanian medùs ‘honey,’ OCS medъ ‘mead’ (P:707; MA:271)] (Schrader/Nehring, 1917-23:139, VW:298). +See also possibly mot. +

+ + +
+

+mit- +(vi.) +‘go; set out’
+G Ps. III /mite-/ [MP // -, -, mitentär]; Ps. I/II /meit(^'ä/_e)-]/ [A // -, -, maiteṃ]; Ko. V /mitā-/ [Inf. mitatsi]; Pt. Ib /māitā-/ [A // maitam, -, maitar ~ maitare]; +
+K Ps./Ko. IXb /mitäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, mītäst, -//] +[ne]rvānṣṣe yolmeś po cai mitentär ytāris=oktatsai ‘all set forth for the Nirvana-pool by the eightfold way’ (29a7); piś meñantse-ne maiteṃ kalā/// (484a5); ṣañ mäskelye yakene ente maitare ... kauś maitam lyakām mokom protär wes ‘as they came to the place where they belonged ... we went up high and saw our older brother’ (108a3), po cai maitar nkelñe[ne] ‘all these went to destruction’ (4b8), ṣañ-yāmorṣṣai ytārisa waiptār maiytar-ñ cai ṣñaṣṣi ‘these my people went individually along the way of self-deeds’ (TEB-63-01). +‣As ‘go’ it provides the preterite plural to i-, q.v. + -- mitalñe ‘going, trip’: akṣim alyenkäṃts mītalyene ‘I wish to teach others in/while going about’ (S-5b4). +
+mitäṣṣälñe: [mā mamāntaṣ pa]lsko m[i]tṣl[e] aly[e]käśc[o] c[ek] w[ar]ñ[ai] r[a]n[o] ‘one should not let the evil-minded spirit go to any other person whatsoever’ (42b1). +∎TchA met- (only the preterite is attested in A) and B mit- reflect PTch *mit- but extra-Tch cognates are uncertain. VW (297) would connect the Tch etymon with Avestan maēþ- ‘throw,’ Latin mittō ‘let go, send’ (cf. co-smittere) (P:968). Also possible is Lane's equation (1938:24) with Latin mūtāre ‘change,’ Gothic maidjan ‘change, falsify,’ Sanskrit méthati/mitháti ‘unite, couple, meet; dash together,’ and other nominal cognates in Balto-Slavic (P:715). Lane's suggestion is slightly better formally, in that one does not have to explain the non-appearance of an initial s- (PIE initial *sm- is preserved in Tocharian, cf. smi- ‘smile,’ and is probably as good semantically (*‘change [position]’ > ‘go’). +

+ + +
+

+mītātstse +(adj.?) +‘?’
+mītātstse = BHS ///lāyī (540al). +

+ + +
+

+mittär* +(n.) +‘sun’ [as mystical sign]
+[/-, -, mittarwi/] +cakkarwisa mittarwisa tsetskäñoṣ tañ ālīne ‘thy palms marked with two wheels and two suns’ (73b1= 75a2). +∎From BHS mitra-. +

+ + +
+

+Mitrakṣeme +(n.) +‘Mitrakṣema’ (PN in graffito)
+[Mitrakṣeme, -, -//] +(G-Su7). +

+ + +
+

+Mitravārg* +(n.) + ‘Mitravarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Mitravārg//] +(S-6a3). +∎From BHS mitravarga-. +

+ + +
+

+Mitraśke +(n.) +‘Mitraśke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Mitraśke, -, -//] +(491a-I-4). +

+ + +
+

+Mitre +(n.) +‘Mitra’ (PN)
+[Mitre, -, -//] +(297.2b1). +

+ + +
+

+mithyadṛṣṭi* +(n.) +‘false doctrine, heresy’
+[-, -, mithyadṛṣṭi//] +(85b1). +∎From BHS mithyādṛṣṭi-. +

+ + +
+

+mīnadhvaje* +(adj.) +‘fish-emblazoned’
+[m: -, -, mīnadhvaje//] +kāmadhāttuṣṣai yoñyaṃ [lege: yoñyai] kaut[a]n[aṃ] Morñiktenste [lege: Mār-] mīnadhvaje waipe räskre naittäṣäṃ ‘he cuts off the way of sensual pleasure and he roughly tears Māra's fish-emblazoned banner’ (591al). +∎From BHS mīnadhvaja-. +

+ + +
+

+miyaśke* +(n.) +an oil-producing fruit?
+[-, -, miyaśke//] +miyaśke warpatai (294a7). +See also miye, of which this word is presumably the diminutive. +

+ + +
+

+miye* +(n.) +an oil-producing fruit?
+[-, -, miye//] +[wsāre nek]cy[e]ne cwi miye paṣkārro ‘they gave him at night miye and paṣkārro’ (42b7), /// miye /// lyinālye (W-32b5). +See also miyaśke. +

+ + +
+

+mil- +(vt.) +‘± wound, damage’
+Ps. VIIIa /mils^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, milṣäṃ//; Ger. milṣälle]; PP /memilo-/ +/// mäkte milṣäṃ arañco ‘as it wounds [my] heart’ (415a2), mälṣälle (341a1); [r]aiwepi memīl[oṣe]pi ysārccepi kosintse ‘as slow, damaging, bloody, cough’ (497a4). + -- mīlar (in phrase mīlar kälp- ‘be persecuted, oppressed, tyrannized’): mā mīlar kälpauwantso = BHS anupadrutaiḥ (11a6). [One should compare TchA milāts ‘wounded.’]; +
+milārṣe (K-T). +∎The historically older variant of the root is mäl- which is to be seen in the gerund (cf. the quasi-regular change of -ä- to -i- in a labial environment in mīsa and mit). Thus the *milār which lies behind TchA milārts must be a borrowing from B to A. The present mäl-s^'ä/_e- reflects PIE *mel-se/o-. PIE mel-se/o- is seen in the Old Irish deverbative noun mell ‘harm, destruction’ and a further denominative verb millid ‘harms’ (Watkins, 1969:75; MA:258). Not with VW (297-9) from a nominal *mei-lo- and related to mi-. Certainly, a -se/o- present would be most unusual in a denominative verb. On the basis of the meaning it is probable that this *mel- is the same *mel- ‘crush’ also seen in ¹mäl- ‘crush’ and mely- ‘id.’ Thus TchB preserves three different present tense formations to this one root, (in PIE terms) *mḷn(e)h_a-, *molw(e)ye/o- and *mel-se/o-, all of which appear to have impeccable Indo-European antecedents (P:716-719). +See also mäl-¹, and mely-. +

+ + +
+

+milkautstse ++ allative (adj.) +‘relating to, based on’
+[m: milkautstse, -, milkaucce//] [f: -, -, milkautstsai//milkautstsana, -, -] + duṣṭhul plāś [for plāc] ykāsälñeś milykotstsai klaiñiś weṣṣäṃ ‘he speaks the word of grave offence relative to concupiscence to the woman’ (325a3), [mā] no nta mäskitär-ne ekaññe [] k_ucesa su āyorś milykaucce yarpo [] kraupalle ṣey ‘however he had no possessions by which he might accrue meritorious service based on a gift’ (375a3). +∎An adjective in -tstse derived from an unattested noun *milkau, in turn a derivative of mälk-, q.v. (for the nominal formation one should compare śanmau ‘bond’ from ś(c)änm- ‘to bind’) (VW:298, with differing details). +See also mälk-. +

+ + +
+

+miw- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘shake, quake’ (intr.); K ‘shake’ (tr.) [pit miw- ‘faint, swoon’]
+G Ps I /miw-/ [A -, -, miwäṃ//; AImpf. -, -, mīwi//; MPPart. miwamane]; Ps. XII /miwäññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, miwantär//]; Ko. V /māiwā-/ [Inf. maiwatsi]; Pt. Ib /māiwā-/ [A -, -, maiwa//; MP -, -, maiwāte//]; +
+K Ps. IXb /miwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MPPart. miwäskemane] +keṃ miwäṃ räskre ‘the earth shakes roughly’ (113a4); maiwa [keṃ ta]r[y]yäl[ts]e po śaiṣṣenne ‘the earth shook in all three thousand worlds’ (274b6), pit maiwāte-ne k[eṃ]tsa klāya ‘his gall shook [= he swooned] and he fell on the ground’ (85b5); [mā ke]ktseñ mīwäske[mane] ‘not shaking the body’ [= BHS na kāyapracālaka] (H-149-ADD.131a3 [Couvreur, 1954b:51]). + -- mamaiwar ‘shaking’: ken mamaiwarsa ‘by the shaking of the earth’ (338b2); +
+maiwalñe: pit-maiwalñe [lit.] ‘gall-trembling’ = ‘fainting, swooning’ [= BHS mūrcchā-] (Y-3a2). +∎TchA mew- and B miw- reflect PTch *miw-. (TchA 3rd sg. ps. meṣ, 3rd pl. meyeñc, in the face of the abstract mewlune, argues for a pre-TchA formation with -w-. Perhaps meyeñc is rebuilt after meṣ which, in turn, results from a cluster simplification of *mewṣ.) Clearly (with VW, 1941: 67, 1976:297) the closest relatives of PTch *miw- are to be found in Sanskrit mīvati ‘move, push’ (only with prefixes), (Vedic) amaviṣṇu- ‘± unmovable’ and kāma-mūta- ‘moved by love,’ Avestan ava.mīva- ‘put aside, remove,’ Ossetic (Digor) miuä [Iron mi] ‘affair, work’ (< *mīva-) (cf. Mayrhofer, 1963:645). The Indo-Iranian and Tocharian evidence suggests a PIE *meih_x-w-, dissimilated from *meuh_x-w- (cf. amaviṣṇu-, -mūta- and also Vedic mūrá- if it means ‘\U+\u hastening, urging,’ all without dissimilation) and thus related, contra VW, to Latin movēre ‘move,’ Lithuanian máuti ‘put on or off’ (note the accentuation which, at face value at least, suggests a seṭ-root in Baltic) (P:743; MA:388)] (for the connection with *meu-, one should see first Lane, 1938:24). The Indo-Iranian-Tocharian innovation would involve not only the morphological extension by *-w- but also the phonological change of *-uh_xw- to *-ih_xw-. +See also mus- and mäs-, and probably musk-. +

+ + +
+

+miśo +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘urine’
+[miśo, -, miśo//] +kewiye miśosa malkwersa wat ‘with cow urine or with milk’ [miśo = BHS mūtra-] (Y-2b5). +∎(As if) from PIE *h₃m(e)iǵ^hyeh_a-, a derivative of *h₃meiǵ^h- ‘urinate’ [: Sanskrit méhati, Avestan maēzaiti, Armenian mizem, Greek omeíkhō, Latin meiō, Old English mīgan, Lithuanian mę̃žù, Serbo-Croatian mìžati, all ‘urinate’ (P:713; MA:613)] (Meillet, 1911:147, VW:298). The Tocharian word looks possibly like a derivative from a *ye/o-present. The reduction of *-śy- (from *-ǵ^hy-) is regular (cf. yśelme). +

+ + +
+

+mīṣe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘field’
+[mīṣe, miṣentse, mīṣe//] + kātso ... wlaśka lyakwañña ṣlyaṣ[ṣa] prakarya kätkre wartse kele ywārśka mīṣe kare-pernettse ‘a belly soft, shining, and firm, a deep, broad navel in the midst of [this] worthy field’ (73b2/3=75a3/4), mīṣe rapā[l]ñe ‘ploughing the field’ (PK-NS-53a5 [Pinault, 1988:100]). +∎From Khotanese miṣṣa-/mäṣṣa- ‘field’ (K. T. Schmidt, 1980:411). +

+ + +
+

+miṣṣi* +(n.) +‘community’
+[-, -, miṣṣi//] +(K-T). +∎TchA miṣi ‘id.’ and B miṣṣi may reflect borrowing from some Iranian source, e.g. Sogdian ‘myδry ‘place’ (VW:633). Perhaps belonging here as well is TchA mṣapantiṃ ‘army chief.’ +

+ + +
+

+mīsa +(n.[f.pl.tant.]) +‘meat, flesh’
+[//mīsa, misāṃts, mīsa] +mīsasa ost astāṣṣe ‘through the flesh the skeleton [is seen]’ (9a8), ika[ñce]ṃ śtarceṃ ṣukaunne mīsa kektse[ñtsa tänma]skentär-ne ‘in the 24th week flesh appears over his [scil. the embryo's] body’ (603a3/4), läksañana misa lykaśke kekarśwa ‘fish meat finely chopped’ (P-1al/2). +∎From PIE *memseh_a, the plural to *memsom (nt.), with regular loss of a nasal before -s- (cf. -me ‘us/our’ from *ṇsmó, the latter with subsequent regular loss of non-initial -s- before a nasal) and quasi-regular change of -ä- to -i- in a labial environment (cf. mit and mil-) [: Sanskrit māṃsá- (nt.) ‘flesh, meat,’ mās (nt.) ‘id.,’ Armenian mis ‘id.,’ Old Prussian mensā ‘id.,’ Albanian mish ‘id.,’ Gothic mimz ‘id.’ (the last two from *memso- as in Tocharian), etc. (P:725; MA:374-375)] (Meillet, 1911:145). Not with VW (632) a borrowing from Pali āmisa- ‘food, flesh, bait.’ +See also misāśañ and mis=aiwenta. +

+ + +
+

+misāśañ +(adj.[pl.]) +‘meat-eating’
+[m: //misāśañ, -, -] +[ālye]wce misāśañ lwāsā pretenne ‘[they are] cannibals [lit: eating the flesh of others] among animals and pretas’ (573a2). +∎From misā + -ś(w)ā-. For the formation, see Winter, 1979. +

+ + +
+

+mis=aiwenta +(n.[pl.]) +‘± pieces of meat’
+k_use mi[s]-ai[w]e[nta] - - [te]kisa yä[kw]eñe oksaiñe läksaññe wästarye tu wikṣalle (559b4/5). +∎A compound of mīsa and aiwe-, qq.v. (see Winter, 1962b:116-7). +

+ + +
+

+misko* +(n.) +‘trading, exchanging’
+[-, -, misko//] +ṣaḍvarginta karyor pito misko ailñe yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvarginta were given over to selling, buying, trading, and inheriting’ (337a2). +∎A derivative of mäsk-², q.v. +

+ + +
+

+muka +(adj.) +‘mute’
+[m: muka, -, -//] +muka = BHS āsya- (Y-2a3). +‣The Tocharian here is a free translation of the corresponding BHS, giving in this case the disease afflicting a particular part of the body rather than the body part itself as in the BHS original. +∎From BHS mūka-. +

+ + +
+

+Mukalanti +(n.) +‘Mukalanti’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Mukalanti, -, -//] +(491b-III-2). +

+ + +
+

+mukur +(n.) +‘diadem’
+[mukur, -, -//] +[in Manichean script] mvkr (Gabain/Winter:11). +∎From mukuṭa-. +

+ + +
+

+muktihār* +(n.) +‘pearl necklace’
+[//muktihāränta, -, -] +(109a5). +∎From BHS mukti (short for muktikā-) + hāra- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Munkhare +(n.) +‘Munkhare’ (PN of a scribe)
+[Munkhare, -, -//] +(PK-NS-14a2 [Couvreur, 1970:179]). +

+ + +
+

+muñcatak +(n.) +‘the grass Saccharum sara’ (a medical ingredient)
+[muñcatak, -, -//] +(P-3a8). +∎From BHS muñjātaka-. +

+ + +
+

+mutk- +(vt.) +‘strengthen’ (?)
+Ko. V /mutkā-/ [Inf. mutkātsi]; Pt. Ia /mutkā-/ [A // -, -, mutkāre]; PP /mutkuwe-/ +sśärīräṣṣe [sic] aisemeṃ mutkāre-ne aise mutkāttseś [lege: mutkāttsiś] po mā tsuwa naumyeṣṣe bhājaṃne ite śama ‘from the sarīra-power they have strengthened the porridge; the power has not added everything to the strengthening [for] it has risen in the jewel receptacle’ (107a3/4); yenmeṃ prākre mutkuweṣ tsrorīntsa ka perkenträ mā parna lnaskeṃ ‘they peek through the cracks at the strongly strengthened gates [but] they do not go out’ (PK-AS-17J-b1 [Pinault, 1994:115]). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps from *meud- ‘be merry’ [: Sanskrit módate ‘is cheerful,’ mudrá- ‘merry, cheerful,’ Lith mudrùs ‘cheerful, lively’ (P:741-742; MA:256)]. For another suggestion, VW:305-6 (from *muktk- and related to TchA muk ‘± ability’). +

+ + +
+

+mutkavarṇi ~ mudgavarṇi +(n.) +‘Phaseolus trilobus Ait.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[mutkavarṇi ~ mudgavarṇi, -, -//] +(P-3b3, W-13b2). +∎From BHS mudgaparṇī-. +

+ + +
+

+mudit* +(n.) +‘joy’
+[-, -, mudit//] +(296a1). +∎From BHS muditā. +See also modit. +

+ + +
+

+mudgavarṇi +See mutkavarṇi. +

+ + +
+

+mudgaly +‘?’
+///laṃ cmelṣe mudgaly cmelṣe a/// (218a2). +

+ + +
+

+mudgulyāyani +(n.?) +‘?’
+///ñña aṣanīkentse mudgulyāyani ce prāśśäṃ pepärkoṣ pä/// (588a7). +

+ + +
+

+murc +(n.) +‘faining, swooning’
+[murc, -, -//] +(ST-b5). +‣The equivalent of pit-maiwalñe, q.v. +∎From BHS mūrcchā-. +

+ + +
+

+murtaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘± prtng to exaltation’ (?)
+[m: -, -, murtaṣṣe//] +ṣale tapre Murtaṣe olank nai nke rankatsi ‘Der hohe Berg der exaltation [ist] jedoch zur genüge besteigen’ [Thomas, 1954:746] (554b5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+Mūrdhāgate +(n.) +‘Mūrdhāgata’ (PN)
+[Mūrdhāgate, -, Mūrdhāgateṃ//] +(111b2/b3). +

+ + +
+

+murvva +(n.) +‘the hemp Sansevieria zeylanica Willd.’ [Filliozat] or ‘Sansevieria roxburghiana Schult.’ [M-W] (a medical ingredient)
+[murvva, -, -//] +(P-3a3). +∎From BHS mūrvā-. +

+ + +
+

+muśnaśi* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//muśnaśinta, -, -] +tw[e ñ]i y[ai]tkor[sa maṃ]t pyām [] k_uce ñake [] muśnaśinta [] śāmna korai parra yaneṃ ‘fulfil thus my command that now the muśnaśis, men and korai pass through’ (LP-16a2/4). +

+ + +
+

+mus- +(vt.) +‘lift, move (aside)’
+Ps. VI /musnā-/ [MP -, -, musnātär// -, -, musnāntär]; Ko. II /mus^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. muṣ(t)si ~ mussi]; PP /muso-/ +tusa rsaṃ musnāträ [mäl]käṣṣäṃ pokaine ‘thus he stretches out, raises, and folds [his] arms’ (119a2), kauc ka ṣ āṃtsne musnānträ ‘and [their] shoulders move upwards’ [= ‘and they shrug their shoulders’ (?)] (H-149.14a5 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:7]); priyavārgsa larauñe śaul kektsenne se ñke ra cämpim mussi ‘though the priyavārga may I be able to put aside love of life and body even now’ (S-3a2); mā kauc wasi [mu]sau osne yänmaṣälle 19 mā kauwcatsi [sic] musau osne ṣmalle ‘one [is] not to enter a house raising up high [his] garment ...’ (322a1-3). +∎TchA mus- and B mus- reflect PTch *mus- from PIE *meus- ‘move, take’ [: Sanskrit muṣṇāti ‘robs, ravishes’ (< *‘take away’), Khotanese muśśe ‘robbers’ (< *muš-ya-), Old Frankish chrēo-mōsido ‘Leichenberaubung’ (Mayrhofer, 1963:658; P:743; MA:388)] (VW:307). As VW points out, the agreement in present formation between Sanskrit and Tocharian is both striking and important. The root vowel in both A and B must reflect PTch *-äu-, a rebuilt zero-grade (see Adams, 1978). +See also mäs- and, more distantly miw-; possibly also musk-. +

+ + +
+

+musk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘disappear, perish,’ K ‘make subside, make disappear’
+G Ps. III /muske-/ [MP -, -, musketär// -, -, muskentär; MPImpf. // -, -, muskīntär]; Ko. V /muskā-/ [Inf. muskātsi]; Pt. Ia /muskā-/ [A -, -, muska//]; PP /musko-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /muskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, muskäṣṣäṃ//] +/// [pe]laikne sakṣträ se śaul ṣpä musketär ‘the law remains [but] this life is lost’ (555a3), śūkentane trenkältsa perne peñyo muskī[ntär] ‘because of avidity for tastes, rank and glory disappeared’ (PK-AS16. 2a3/4 [Pinault, 1989:155]); ainakeṃmpa larauñe mā yamīmar muskātsiś po krentaunaṃts ‘may I not love the common/vile ones [so as] to be rejected by all virtues’ (S-6a4); spārtalñent=ācāränta muskauw= āttsaik ‘completely disappeared [in the lives of those monks] were good behavior and manners’ (12b2); kātso sonopälya ... yāmusai kātsa muskaṣṣäṃ ‘the belly [is] to be smeared ... it makes the treated belly subside’ (W-4a4/5). + -- muskalñe ‘± perishing’: /// muskālläññe kärsormeṃ mā kca mrauskātär /// (K-12a6); +
+muskālñetstse* in the compound snai-muskalñetstse ‘undecaying, imperishable’: snai- muskālñ[e]ts[ts]a = BHS akṣayā (542b1). +∎TchA musk- and B musk- reflect PTch *musk- but extra-Tocharian cognates are less certain. Melchert (1977:105) suggests that we have, in Indo-European terms *m(e)u-sḱe/o- (presumably as ‘move away;’ *m(e)us-sḱe/o- would also be possible [MA:388]), related to Latin movēre ‘move’ and, therefore, also to miw- and mus-, qq.v. VW (307), on the other hand suggests we have *m(e)uk-sḱe/o- ‘slip away,’ related to mäk- and mauk-. +

+ + +
+

+must +(n.) +‘(the grass) Cyperus rotundus Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[must, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS musta-. +

+ + +
+

+Mṛgāra* +(n.) +‘Mṛgāra’ (PN of a place)
+[-, Mṛgārañ, -//] +(3a5). +

+ + +
+

+-me +enclitic pronoun referring to first, second, or third persons plural. +∎TchA -m and B -me reflect PTch *me. In the first person PIE *-ṇsmó- > *-änsme > *-äsme (with regular loss of nasals before *-s-, cf. mīsa from *memsā) > *-äme (with regular loss of non-initial *-s- before nasals, cf. krāñi). In the second person we have a similar development from PIE *-usmó (cf. Hittite -smas ‘to you, to them’ and Luvian -mmas, with a phonological development similar to that of Tocharian). In the third person we have, probably analogical to the first and second persons, *-smó (cf. again Hittite -smas ‘to you, to them’ and Luvian -mmas ‘id.’). Cf. MA:454-455. Not with VW (276) from (third person) *emó- or *emú- seen in Sanskrit amá-/amú-. +

+ + +
+

+mek* +(n.) +‘melody’ (?)
+[-, -, mek//] +mek pyoyeṃ ‘they had to sing a melody’ (PK-15D-a7 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]). +∎A borrowing from BHS megha-? +

+ + +
+

+meksi* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, meksi//] +meksi [e]nku śaiṣṣetse yap/// (277a2/3). +

+ + +
+

+mekwa* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘(finger/toe) nails’
+[//-, -, mekwa] +praroñ māka lalaṃṣkane [lege: lalaṃṣkana] lyelyūkwa ṣañ mekwasa ‘the fingers, very soft and illuminated by his own nails’ (74a6). +∎TchA maku and B mekwa reflect PTch *mekwā, by assimilation (cf. B mätsts-) from earlier *nekwā. We appear to have, by the addition of the neuter plural -ā, a late transfer to the neuter (hence the lack of ā-umlaut [Hamp, p.c.]) of an old animate noun *nekw from PIE *h₃nog^wh- [: Greek ónuks (gen. ónukhos) ‘nail, claw,’ Latin unguis ‘nail,’ Old English nägel ‘id.,’ Sanskrit ánghri- (f.) ‘foot,’ Lithuanian nagà ‘hoof,’ OCS noga ‘foot,’ etc. (P:780; MA:389)] (Krause, 1951:203, VW:277; details, however, differ). +

+ + +
+

+menki +(n.) +‘lack’
+[menki, -, menki//] +meñe menkine massa [sic] ‘the month went out in a lack’ (433a10), se ṣamāne menki-īkäṃ pikwalaṃñepi onolmentse wasaṃpāt yamaṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk ordains a being lacking twenty years’ (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]), menki tākaṃ rittaṣṣeñca mā tākaṃ-ne kärtsene ‘there is the lack [of good friendship] and it does not equip him for the good’ (K-5b1). + -- menkītstse ‘lacking’: krent wāṣmontsā menkitse ‘lacking good friendship’ (282al); +
+menkītsñe* ‘lack’: waraṣṣälñentse menkītsñesa ‘because of a lack of practice’ (K-6a4). +∎TchA mank and B menki reflect PTch *menke and *menkäi respectively. Both are derivative of PTch *mänk-, q.v. For the variation in suffix, one should compare B leke and leki. For the formation as a whole, see Adams, 1990a. +

+ + +
+

+meñe +(nm.) +(a) ‘moon’; (b) ‘month’
+[meñe, meñantse, meñ (voc. meñ)//meñi, meñaṃts, meñäṃ] +(a) [k]auṃ meñe ściri po ṣp ‘sun, moon, and all the stars’ (45b7), [mä]kte orocce lyamne orkamotsai yaṣine meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña ‘as the light of the the moon and stars in the dark sea on a dark night’ (154b2), [in Manichean script] myn ‘O moon!’ (Gabain/Winter:10); +
+(b) kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne ‘in the passing of days and months’ (3b5), me[ñe] = BHS indu (311a2), wi meñantse-ne ‘on the second of the month’ (433a11). +‣Of the twelve months, nine are designated numerically. Thus we have wate meñe ‘second month’ through śkante meñe ‘tenth month.’ The other months (first, eleventh, and twelfth) are designated by non-numerical adjectives. Rapaññe meñe designates the twelfth month since the underlying *rāp is borrowed from Old Chinese *rap (Middle Chinese *lap, modern Mandarin là). Naimaññe meñe and wärsaññe meñe are the first and eleventh months respectively. + -- meñ-yok* ‘moon-like’: arkwina meñ-yokäññana ‘white and moon-like’ (73a4); +
+meñe-pällent ‘full moon’ (292b1); +
+meñ-ñäkte ‘moon-god’ (389b2); +
+meñäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the moon’ (389a6); +
+meñye ‘monthly’ (?): meñye käṃlworsa [lege: kälporsa] (467a2), ///ntse yap meñye wsāwa tarya to[m] (468a2); +
+meñäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the month’ (389a6). +∎TchA mañ and B meñe reflect PTch *meñe from PIE *meh₁nē(n). The n-stem was rebuilt on the nominative singular *meh₁nē(t), itself analogical for *meh₁nōt, oblique *meh₁nes- (see Beekes, 1982, for further discussion). The same chain of events led to the n-stem Gothic mēna ‘moon.’ (Normier, 1980:254, suggests a pre-Tch *meh₁nēs, analogical to the loc. sg. *meh₁nesi.) Elsewhere there are different analogical restructurings, except in Lithuanian where mėnuo/mėnesį retains the archaic pattern [: Sanskrit mās-, Greek mēn, Latin mēnsis, Gothic mēnōþs, etc. (P:731-2; MA:385)] (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:927, VW:280). +

+ + +
+

+metär +See maitär. +

+ + +
+

+met ~ meda +(n.) +‘Gymnema aurantiacum’ [Filliozat] (a medical ingredient)
+[met ~ meda, -, -//] +(P-3a8, 500a7). +∎From BHS medā-. +

+ + +
+

+-meṃ +ending of the ablative. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+menāk* +(a) (n.); (b) (particle) +(a) ‘example, comparison’; (b) ‘like’
+[-, -, menāk/-, -, menākäñc/] +(a) menak yamäṣṣäṃ po-aiyśi ‘the Omniscient one makes a comparison’ (407a4), tsārwo mā su yātaṃ wentsi āksi mā menāktsa ś[a]r[sässi] ‘he cannot speak of or announce the joy nor [can he] make [it] known by example’ (591a6); +
+(b) [tai]we menāk ce [lege: cai] maiweñ [taiwe menāk = BHS yathā phalānām] ‘like a ripe fruit these youths’ (2a7), ñikcye menāk aiśamñesa ‘because of [thy] divine-like knowledge’ (DAM.507a2), mäntrakkāk ṣimä-menak = BHS evam āgāropamam (U-23b2). + -- menākätstse* ‘± comparable’ (?): (324a3). +∎TchA menāk and B menāk are both borrowings from some Iranian source, probably from Sogdian myn’k ‘like, resembling’ (Hansen, 1940:150, VW:631). +

+ + +
+

+mentsi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sorrow’
+[mentsi, -, mentsi//] +/// plāntw alyenkäṃs ñi no tsamṣtä meṃ[tsi] ... ‘the joy of others to me, however, thou increasest sorrow’ (415a4), /// [te]ki mentsi krasonta proskai /// ‘sickness, sorrow, discontents, fear’ (512b1), snai meṃtsi kläṃtsañcer ‘you sleep without sorrow’ (G-Su1-d). + -- mentsiṣṣe ‘prtng to sorrow’ (282b3). +∎A derivative of mänts-, q.v. For the formation, see Adams, 1990a. +

+ + +
+

+mem- +See mi-². +

+ + +
+

+memis( ̇) ̇ +‘?’
+akṣobhe tretke memis( ̇) ̇/// (367b6). +

+ + +
+

+meli +(n.[pl.tant.]) +‘nose’
+[//meli, -, meleṃ] +ent=ānāṣṣäṃ melentsa ‘when he inhales through the nose’ (41b3). + -- meleṃṣṣe ‘prtng to the nose’: meleṃṣṣe indri ‘the sense of smell’ (K-11al). +∎TchA malañ ‘nose’ (also a plurale tantum; cf. the A singular in the compound akmal ‘face’ [lit: ‘eye-nose’]) and B meli reflect a PTch *mele- (pl. tant.) but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. The major formal datum for any etymology is the fact that we have a plurale tantum, not a singular or duale tantum as we might expect. Thus the usual connection (VW, 1941:66, 1976:277) with PIE *mel- ‘project’ is unlikely (P:721f.). A development ‘projections’ > ‘nose,’ at least so baldly put, does not seem possible. Also arguing against this connection is the lack of any exact formal parallels to the *molo- or *mēlo- which must lie behind PTch *mele- (the closest is Latvian mala ‘margin, bank, area’ < *moleh_a-). Better would be to see in PTch *mele- a reflex of PIE *mēlo- (or perhaps *meh₁lo-) ‘mark, sign’ which is also to be seen in Germanic, e.g. Old English mǟl (nt.) ‘mark, sign, ornament’ or Old Norse mál ‘id.’ We would assume a semantic development ‘marks, signs’ > ‘features’ > ‘nose.’ Alternatively, if one could find an explanation for the plural, semantically attractive would be a connection with Middle English smell ‘smell’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:167) where both the English and the Tocharian would reflect a PIE *(s)mel- ‘smell’ and the Tch word for nose would be originally *‘smeller.’ (Or, and so Duchesne-Guillemin, both the English and Tocharian would represent separate semantic developments from *(s)mel- ‘smoulder.’) However, the isolation of the English word within Germanic, let alone Indo-European more widely, invites caution. +

+ + +
+

+melte* +(n.) +‘dung’
+[-, -, melte//] +/// atiyai-pisäl-melte-oraṣṣe puwar ‘a fire of grass, chaff, dung, or wood’ (194b1). + -- melteṣṣe ‘prtng to dung’: kewiye melteṣe ṣpel ‘a poultice of cow dung’ (P-2a6). +∎Etymology unknown. Krause and Thomas translate this word as ‘Erhebung,’ presumably because they connect it with TchA malto ‘in first place’ but the contexts in which melte is found would seem clearly to mandate a meaning of ‘dung.’ For this latter meaning extra-Tocharian connections are unknown. +

+ + +
+

+mely- +(vt.) +‘crush, squeeze, lay waste’
+Ps. II /mely^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, melyäṃ// -, -, melyeṃ] +ce_u kerekauna wnolme mā melyan-ne [melyan = BHS mardati] (12b7), po päst melyan-me srūkalñe ‘death crushes them all’ (45b5), ktsaitsäññe srūkalyñe ṣpä melyeṃ = BHS jarā mṛtyuś ca marda/// (U-2a1). +∎TchA malyw- and B mely- reflect PTch *melyw'- which matches Germanic *malwy- exactly [: Gothic gamalwjan ‘grind’ (similar in formation are Old Norse mo/lva ‘shatter’ and OHG mol(a)wēn ‘waste away’)] (Meillet, 1911:461, VW:278-9). PIE *molw-(e)ye/o- is a present formation from the widespread root *mel- ‘crush’ (see ¹mäl- for further discussion). +See also mäl-¹ and mil-. +

+ + +
+

+mewiyo/mewiya +(n.[m/f]) +‘tiger’
+[mewiyo (m.)/mewiya (f.), -, mewiyai (m/f)//] +mewiyo = BHS vyāghra in the calendrical cycle (549a6), ṣkasce ok meññaṃntse mewye-pikulne [lege: mewyai-] ‘the sixth [day] of the eighth month in the tiger year’ (G-Qa1.1). +∎Probably a borrowing from Iranian, particularly one should compare (earlier) Khotanese mauya (later muyi) but also Sogdian myw (Poucha, 1931:177, fn. 12, Lüders, 1933:1018-9, VW:631-2). +

+ + +
+

+meske* +(nm.) +‘joint, portion’
+[-, -, meske//meski, -, -] +mant astāṣṣi meski tne ṣñor-passontsa śeśśanmoṣ ‘so [are] the bone joints bound by sinews and muscles’ (5b1/2), päklyauṣ cau jā[takäṣṣe me]ske ‘listen to this portion of the jātaka’ (77a5). + -- meskeṣṣe* ‘proportionate’ (?): meskeṣṣeṃ cāneṃ aiṣlyi [lege: aiṣlye] tākaṃ (492al/2). +∎TchA masäk and B meske reflect PTch *meske from PIE *mosgo- ‘knot,’ a derivative of *mesg- ‘fasten together, knit together’ [: Lithuanian mezgù ‘knit together, tie together,’ mãzgas ‘knot,’ Latvian mazgs ‘id.,’ and probably those Germanic words represented by English mesh (P:746; MA:571)] (VW, 1949:301-2, Couvreur, 1950:127, VW:281). +See also mäṣkwatste. +

+ + +
+

+mai +(particle) +‘± perchance’
+mai ñi tākaṃ laitalñe wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe ‘perchance will there be to me a falling from the great royal throne?’ (5a4), mai no knetär-me ritau akālk ‘perchance your cherished wish will be realized’ (107b1). +∎Etymology unclear. On the model of wai and rai, from wā + -i and rā + -i respectively, perhaps we have mā ‘no, not’ + -i. If so, the orginal meaning might have been a parenthetical nicht wahr? or mais oui? It is also conceivable that, with VW (276), we have the PIE particle *mé(n) (cf. Greek mén, mēn, and má) that we see in makte, mant, mäkte, and mäksu (re-)modeled on nai, wai, and rai. +

+ + +
+

+maiki* +(nf.) +‘± broth’
+[-, -, maiki//] +tarya traiwoṣṣai maikine taṣalle ‘it [is] to be put in the thrice mixed broth’ (W-9b2), kränkaiñai maikisa ‘chicken broth’ (W-14b1). +∎From PTch *meikäi which presupposes *meike- (cf. leke and leki). This word would be an o-grade thematic derivative of PIE *meiḱ-/meiǵ- ‘mix’ [: Sanskrit mekṣáyati ‘stir,’ Avestan minašti ‘mixes,’ Greek meígnūmi ‘mix,’ Latin misceō ‘id.,’ Lithuanian miešiù ‘mix,’ etc. (P:714; MA:384)] (VW, 1977a:144). +

+ + +
+

+mait- +See mit-. +

+ + +
+

+maitär¹ +(n.) +‘friendship; benevolence, good will’
+[maitär, -, maitär//] +(224a3): + -- mait(t)arṣṣe ‘prtng to friendship or benevolence’: maiyttärṣṣe no warsa ‘with, however, the water of benevolence’ (212a2). +∎From BHS maitrī- +

+ + +
+

+maitär*² +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 12 syllables (rhythm 5/7)
+[-, -, maitär//] +(158a6). +

+ + +
+

+Maitrajñe +(n.) +‘Maitrāyajña’ [sic] (PN)
+[Maitrajñe, -, -//] +(K-2b4). +

+ + +
+

+maitrāk* +(n.) +‘maitreya’
+[-, -, maitrāk//] +(74b1). +∎A borrowing from Iranian, itself a borrowing from BHS maitreya- (Lane, 1966). Cf. TchA metrak. +See also maitreye*. +

+ + +
+

+maitreye* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘maitreya’
+[-, -, maitreyeṃ//-, -, maitreyeṃ] +ñäkteṃ maitreyeṃ lkāṃ ‘he will see gods and maitreyas’ (274a3). +∎From BHS maitreya-. +See also maitrāk*. +

+ + +
+

+maim +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘thought, thinking’
+[maim, -, maim//] +enenkaś paspārtau cwi maim palskw attsaik ‘completely turned inward [is] his thought and spirit’ (41a2), śl=āknātsaññe maimtsa trikseṃ duśśīläñe yamaskeṃ ‘with ignorance they stumble in judgment and show bad character’ (K-8al). +∎TchA mem and B maim reflect PTch *meim, a nominal derivative of *mei- ‘measure’ seen in the TchA infinitive messi (< *mestsi). The nominal formation (as if from PIE *-mṇ) is the same as in saim, q.v. Extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. It is possible, with VW (295-6, though details differ), to see in the Tocharian words a reflection of PIE *mod-ye/o- (for the o-grade in a ye/o-present one might compare mely-) or *mēdye/o-, derivatives of *med- ‘measure’ [: Greek médomai ‘provide for, be mindful of,’ mēdomai ‘intend, keep watch,’ Latin meditor ‘consider, meditate,’ Old Irish midiur ‘think, judge,’ Gothic mitan ‘measure,’ and nominal derivatives in Indic and Armenian (P:705-6; MA:262, 374)]. Alternatively it would be possible that we have PIE *meh₁-ye/o-, a derivative of *meh₁- ‘measure’ in the background [: Sanskrit māti/mimāti ‘measures,’ Avestan mā- ‘id.,’ Albanian mas (< *mh₁tyō) ‘id.,’ Latin mētior ‘id.,’ and other derivatives in Greek, Germanic, and Balto-Slavic (P:703-4; MA:249)]. +See also maimantstse and possibly mais-. +

+ + +
+

+maimantstse +(adj.) +‘learnèd, skillful, clever, excellent’
+[maimantse, -, - (voc. maimañcu)//maimañci, -, maimañceṃ] +maimañceṃ appamāt sū yamastär ‘he treats scornfully the wise ones’ (31b2), ñakteś weṣṣäṃ maimañcu pālka ‘he says to the god: excellent one, look!’ (99a3), te-mäṃnt maimantse śtwerātse = BHS idaṃ bhadracatuṣṭayam (251a6), maim[añceṃmpa] = BHS peśalebhiś (307b8). +∎A derivative clearly of maim, but the exact mechanics are unclear. One would expect *maimatstse with no -n-. +

+ + +
+

+maimatsäññe +(n.) +‘tranquility, equanimity, absence of passion’
+mainätsäññe [lege: maimätsäññe] = BHS śama- (251a6). +∎Clearly a derivative of some sort of maim, but its relationship, in the absence of a medial -n-, with maimantstse is obscure. +

+ + +
+

+maiyyo +(nf.) +‘power, might, strength’
+[maiyyo (~ maiyya), -, maiyya//-, -, maiyyaṃ (~ maiyyana)] +maiyyāmeṃ ... tsänku [lege: tsänkau] ‘by force [i.e. against his will] he [has] arisen’ [maiyyāmeṃ = BHS balasāt] (11a8), etre_uññai meyyāsā ‘by heroic might’ (274b2), kektseñäṣṣa maiyyo ‘bodily strength’ (371b2). + -- maiyyātstse (adj.) ‘powerful;’ (n.) ‘powerful person’ (cf. next entry): maiyyācce wer ‘a powerful hatred’ (90b2), te keś tattārmeṃ onmiṃ maiyyātstse eritär ‘taking this into account a powerful one might evoke repentance’ (290a6); +
+maiyyāṣṣe ‘prtng to power or strength’ (371b6). +∎This TchB word is in origin a regular abstract ([as if] PIE *moh₁iwyeh_a-) meaning *‘youthful strength’ to the *moh₁iwo- which gave maiwe ‘young; youth,’ q.v. Semantically we see a parallel of sorts in the history of Lithuanian jėgà ‘power, strength’ (see Adams, 1987b) or in the relationship of Gothic magus ‘boy’ and mahts ‘power, might.’ Not with VW (629) a borrowing from Sanskrit māyā- ‘magic’ on both semantic and, particularly, formal grounds (māyā could only have become *māy(a) or possibly *mai). +See also maiyyā_u and maiwe. +

+ + +
+

+maiyyā_u +(adj.) +‘powerful’
+[m: maiyyā_u, maiyyānte, maiyyānt//] +poyśiṃne takarṣkñe maiyyānt ersamai ‘I evoked a powerful faith in the Buddha’ (400b2), tā_u maiyyasa maiyyāwä ālu ‘durch die Kraft gekräftigt werde ich fernhalten/ferngehalten’ (H-149.39a1[Krause, 1952:122]). +∎An adjectival derivative of maiyyo. +

+ + +
+

+mailyi +‘?’
+/// [ene]nka mailyi ite kre/// (563b3). +

+ + +
+

+maiw- +See miw-. +

+ + +
+

+maiwe +(adj.) +‘young’
+[m: maiwe,-, -//maiweñ, -, maiweṃ] +/// ywārśkāññi pik_ulameṃ k_use rano maiwe[ño] ‘those in middle years and those who are young [maiweño = BHS daharā]’ (2a5). + -- maiwäññe* ‘youth’: mäksu no yāmor mäkcewsa wnolmi maiwaññesāk warñai entwek läkle-lyakāñ mäskenträ ‘what is the deed through which creatures from youth on see only suffering?’ (K-5a6). +∎The exact equivalent of Old Norse mjór ‘small, thin’ (< Proto-Gmc. *maiwa-). Both reflect PIE *moh₁i-wo- ‘growing,’ whence ‘young, in the full vigor of youth’ (semantically the Germanic form represents a case of pejoration [Melchert, p.c.]). The same *moh₁i- is seen in Hittite (3rd sg.) māi (3rd pl. miyanzi), from *móh₁yei ~ mh₁yénti, maya(nt)- ‘grown man’ (*moh₁yo-), miyant- ‘grown’ (*mh₁yént-). In Cuneiform Luvian we have mayassi- ‘assembly, crowd, mass,’ Hieroglyphic Luvian maya(n)t- ‘many,’ and in Lycian miñt ‘group which oversees the tombs.’ (See Melchert, 1984:46, for the Hittite forms and Melchert, 1987:184, fn. 5, for the Luvian and Lycian ones; MA:249.) The unextended *moh₁- is perhaps to be seen in TchB māme ‘unripe,’ q.v. Less likely as the PIE antecedent would be *moih_xwo- (Lane, 1938:24, VW:277; cf. P:711), a derivative of *meih_xw- ‘tremble’ (see miw- for further discussion). The semantic development would be *‘trembling’ > ‘young’ (i.e. ‘trembling’ > ‘tender (of plants’) ‘young’--cf. Rumanian tînar ‘boy’ < Latin tener ‘tender’). Not with Hilmarsson (1989c:85-87, fn. 8) from a PIE *mēd-i-h_a-, a collective of *mēd-i- ‘thought’ [: Armenian mit ‘thought’]. +See maiyyo and possibly māme. +

+ + +
+

+mais- +(vt.) +‘?’
+Ko. I (?) /mais-/ +wrocceṃ yśelmeṃ rinäskenträ mäntäk āllyaik - - - - maistsi rām no päknāskenträ ‘they renounce great desires just as others intend, as it were to ...’ (273a1/2). +‣Krause (1952) suggests a translation ‘surpass, outdo’ but such a meaning is certainly not imposed by the context. Could we have here the TchB equivalent of A messi ‘to measure?’ +

+ + +
+

+moko +(adj.) +‘old (of people)’ ; (n.) ‘elder’
+[m: moko, -, mokoṃ//mokonta, -, -] +kauś maitam lyakām mokoṃ protär wes śle aklaṣlyeṃ po watesa osta[meṃ ltuwe ṣpoyśiṃś] ‘we went out and saw our older brother with [his] disciples [who had] for a second time left the house [= become monks] of the Buddha’ (108a3); moko Perñik ‘the elder P.’ (LP-33a2), ypoy-mokonta ‘± senators’ (?) (Pinault, 1984a:27). +∎The equivalent of TchA mok ‘id.’ but beyond that equation things are very uncertain. TchA shows a plural adjective moklāñ ‘old,’ apparently in complementary distribution with mok (singular only attested), which looks like a deverbal construction *mokal or *mokäl, presupposing a verbal root *mok-. If all this is so, mok/moko might result from a present participle (nom. sg. masc.) in *-ānts (incidentally there is no need to see B mok as a borrowing from A [so VW:301]), parallel to the verbal adjective in -l-. Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze (1931:456) opt for A muk-, B mauk- ‘desist’ (< *‘let go, slip away, run away’) as the underlying verb which would be phonologically impeccable for both languages but the semantics are not very convincing. (So also VW:301 and Hilmarsson, 1986:39-40). Certainly in TchB there is no inherent notion of feebleness in moko, cf. ‘older brother’ at 108a3. Perhaps we have a verb *maǵ(h_a)-eh₂- or even *maǵh_a-e/o- from *meǵh_a-/maǵ- ‘great, large, many’ that lies behind māka, q.v. The verb would have meant ‘make great(er), magnify’ if transitive (and would be the quasi-equivalent of the Italic *magere that lies behind the [historically] frequentive-intensive mactāre ‘honor the gods, make a sacrifice’) and ‘become great, grow up’ if intransitive. +See also possibly māka. +

+ + +
+

+mokoc(e)* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘thumb’ (?) [paiñe mokoc(e) = ‘big toe’]
+[-, mokocäntse, mokoc//] +[arañcä]ś eṃṣke paiñe mokoc taṅtsi ‘up to the heart, even unto the big toe’ (41b8), śwālyai [pai]yyeññe mokocintse āntene tuciyai tanākkai lkāṣṣäṃ ‘on the tip of the right big toe he sees a yellow spot’ (580b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps this word is related to moko as ‘± the big one’ (cf. märkwace *‘the short one’). It may, however, be related to the TchA adjective mokats ‘strong’ (Hilmarsson, 1986:16) if, indeed, the latter is not also related to moko (VW [305-6] relates mokats, and B mokoce, to TchA muki of unclear meaning--it occurs in conjunction with nati and tampe, both ‘power, might’ and might also mean the same, and relates them all to Old English mēagol ‘strong’). There is no a priori reason to connect, as VW does, A muki ‘middle finger’ (?) to mokoce. +

+ + +
+

+mokoṃśka, mokoṃśke +(nf.), (nm.) +‘monkey’
+[f: mokoṃśka, -, mokoṃśkai//mokoṃśkañ, -, -] [m: mokoṃśke, -, -//] +///ñ mokośwañ [lege: mokośkañ?] kercapañ [w]at [n]o (118b3), mokoṃśk[e] = BHS makkara (549a5), mokośkai pikulne ‘in the year of the monkey’ (PK-Cp.25.1 [Pinault, 1987:160]). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW suggests (299) that we have here a diminutive of moko, i.e. ‘little old man,’ but which leaves unaccounted for the shape of the TchA equivalent (pl.) mkowāñ. Lüders (1933:1018) takes it to be a borrowing somehow from Chinese muhou or mihou. +

+ + +
+

+mokośwañ +See mokoṃśka. +

+ + +
+

+mokṣ +(n.) +‘deliverance’
+[mokṣ -, mokṣ//] +(M-2a5). + -- mokṣäṣṣe* ‘prtng to deliverance’: plāc mokṣäṣṣai ‘a word of deliverance’ (587a3). +∎From BHS mokṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣagupte +(n.) +‘Mokṣagupta’ (PN in graffito)
+[Mokṣagupte, -, -//] +(G-Su2). +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣacandre +(n.) +‘Mokṣacandra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Mokṣacandre, -, -//] +(DAM.507a15, G-Qm7). +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣamitre +(n.) +‘Mokṣamitra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Mokṣamitre, -, -//] +(G-Su17). +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣarakṣite* +(n.) +‘Mokṣarakṣita’ (PN)
+[-, -, Mokṣarakṣiteṃ//] +(577b6). +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣawarme +(n.) +‘Mokṣavarma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Mokṣawarme, -, -//] +(G-Qm13). +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣasene +(n.) +‘Mokṣasena’ (PN of graffito)
+[Mokṣasene, -, -//] +(G-Su10). +

+ + +
+

+Mokṣasome +(n.) +‘Mokṣasoma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Mokṣasome, -, -//] +(G-Qm9). +

+ + +
+

+mot +(n.) +‘alcohol; alcoholic beverage’
+[mot, -, mot//] +se ṣa[māne] mot māla trikelyesa śakse yokäṃ ‘whatever monk drinks alcohol or intoxicating beverage, through befuddlement, or brandy’ [mot = BHS surā-] (H-149.X.3b1/2 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), madanaphalṣe ṣat twerene tsanapale mot spärketrä ‘a sliver of thorn-apple [is] to be stuck in the door; the alcohol evaporates’ (M-2a2). + -- motaṣṣe ‘prtng to alcohol’ (497b2); +
+motä-yokaiṃ ‘thirsty for alcohol’: śtwara tasanmane ite ite motä-yokaiṃ taṣalle ‘one [is] to set those thirsty for alcohol on four very full containers’ (M-3a4). +∎VW (633) takes this as a borrowing from an Iranian source, e.g. possibly Sogdian mwδ. This is possible but by no means certain as Tocharian seems to have borrowed this word from an -l- dialect of Iranian in the form māla, q.v. It is possible to see in mot a vṛddhied equivalent of mit ‘honey,’ q.v., that is, in Indo-European terms *mēd^hu- ‘that made from honey, mead’ and *méd^hu- ‘honey’ (a genetic relationship of some sort of mot with PIE *méd^hu was suggested by Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:380). Formally similar would be yot, q.v. +See also mit and kuñi-mot. +

+ + +
+

+motarne +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[motarne, -, -//] +(W-36a5). +

+ + +
+

+motartstse* +(adj.) +‘green’
+[m: -, -, motarcce//] [f:// motarccana, -, -] +[mā mo]tärcce nestsi [motärcce = BHS harita-] (H-149. 314b5 [K. T. Schmidt, 1984:152]). +∎TchA motarci (f. sg.) must be related since it also reflects a color-term, though on the TchA evidence one can only say that it is some sort of dark color. However, A motarts- and B motärtsts- can not reflect the same PTch antecedent since A -a- and B -ä- are incompatable and -o- and -o- are difficult at least. I take the TchA word to be a borrowing from B, from a dialect where the underlying stressed -ä- had already become -a-. VW (303) relates the A word to Greek amudrós ‘dim, faint, obscure; weak,’ taking it to reflect *moudoro- (the -tste is secondary--compare pākre and pakartstse). In his discussion of Greek amudrós, Frisk (1960:96-97) adds OCS iz-mъděti ‘become weak.’ However, if the TchA word is borrowed from B, VW's reconstruction cannot be correct. Nevertheless, the basic equation is attractive. Perhaps we have a putative PIE *h_amuduro-, a conflation of *h_amudro- (as in Greek) and its morphological alter ego *h_amudu-. What relationship, if any, this set of words have with Greek amaurós ‘dim, faint, obscure; weak,’ Old Norse meyrr ‘mellow, tender, weak’ (see de Vries, 1977:386), Russian (s)muryj ‘darkgray,’ chmúra ‘darkclouds,’ Czech chmouřiti ~ šmouřiti ‘become overcast’ (P:701) is most unclear. +

+ + +
+

+modit +(n.) +‘pleasure, delight’
+[modit, -, -//] +(333b7). +∎From BHS modita-; see also mudit. +

+ + +
+

+morośk* +(n.) +a kind of flowering plant
+[-, -, morośk//-, -, morośkaṃ] +/// śtare morauśkaṃ [sic] ‘they scattered the morośks’ (389a7). + -- morośkaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a morośk’: morośkaṣṣa pyāpyo (M-1b7). +

+ + +
+

+moli(ye)* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± dispute’
+[//-, -, moliṃ] +rekiṣṣana nke toṃ molints=ālyauc[e] /// ‘[if] then these word disputes [should arise]’ (27a4). +∎A derivative of mäl-² ‘argue, contest,’ q.v., reflecting, in Indo-European terms, *mōluh₁en- or *moluh₁en-. Semantically this word is most closely related to Greek mōléō (Cretan mōlíō) ‘contend, bring an action at law,’ mōlos ‘toil of war, struggle,’ antímōlos ‘adversary in a suit’ (VW:302, with differing details; MA:125). Whether with VW this Greco-Tocharian etymon is further related to Latin mōlēs ‘shapeless mass, bulk, pile,’ molestus ‘troublesome, irksome, grievous,’ etc. (see Frisk's cautious discussion, 1970:282) is unclear. Perhaps also to be connected is Old English mǟl ‘speech, quarrel’ and Old Norse mál ‘speech, legal dispute’ on the other. (Cf. Hilmarsson, 1986:13, though not with him from *m(e)h_ad-tlo- with reduction of *-dtl- to *-tl- in pre-Germanic [and a connection with Gothic maþla- ‘meeting place, market’] but *-dl- in pre-Tocharian.) +See also mäl-². +

+ + +
+

+Molyoke +(n.) +‘Molyoke’ (PN)
+[Molyoke, -, -//] +(LP-13a2). +

+ + +
+

+mosake +PN?
+///[] ṣak-ṣene [] mosake [] /// (LP-28a3). +

+ + +
+

+mauk- +(vi.) +‘desist’
+G Ko. V /māukā-/ [A -, -, maukaṃ//]; Pt. Ib /māukā-/ [A -, maukāsta, mauka// -, -, maukāre; MP -, maukatai, -//]; +
+K Ps. IX /māukäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, maukästar//] (K). +[k]ete no ṣletkäṃ [lege: pletkäṃ] karuṃ aiśamñe asaṃkhyainta kalpanmaṣṣai lālyīs=aṣkār mā maukaṃ ‘to whom, however, pity and wisdom arise, he will not turn back from the effort of countless ages’ (591b6); lakl=ālyenkäṃts kalatsi mā ñi mauka arañce ṣeme kṣaṃn ra (266b2/3), /// śaul käryātai tainasäñ mā ṣ mauk[ā]st[a] (239b2), yolaiñemeṃ maukatai ‘from evil hast thou desisted’ (241a4). +∎TchA muk- and B mauk- reflect PTch *muk- (B having generalized full-grade forms) from PIE *meuk- ‘slip away (from)’ [: Sanskrit muñcáti/mucáti ‘let loose, free,’ Lithuanian mùkti ‘slip away from, escape, run away,’ Russian OCS mъknuti sja ‘pass over,’ OCS mъčati ‘chase’ (P:744; MA:527-528)] (VW, 1941:63, 1976:306). From this root also comes B mäk- ‘run,’ q.v. +See also amaukatte and mauki and, more distantly, also mäk- and perhaps moko. +

+ + +
+

+mauki* +(n.) +‘stop, pause’
+[-, -, mauki//] +poyśiññeṣṣe akālksa yam ñiś ytāri snai mauki /// ‘because of my wish for Buddha-hood I go the way without stop’ (S-8a5). +∎A derivative of mauk-, q.v. For the formation, see Adams, 1990a. +

+ + +
+

+Maudgalyāyane +(n.) +‘Maudgalyāya’ (PN of a pupil of the Buddha)
+[Maudgalyāyane, -, Maudgalyāyaneṃ//] +(3a2). +

+ + +
+

+maune +(n.) +‘avarice, avidity’
+[maune, -, mauṃ//] +[wewe]ñu [yo]lo [r]eki mauṃ kä[llāṣṣäṃ] ‘the evil word spoken brings avarice’ (20b3). +∎(As if) from PIE *moud-no- a derivative of *moud- seen in Lithuanian maudžiù/maũsti ‘desire passionately’ and Czech mdlíti po čem ‘desire, strain after’ (VW:282; MA:158). It may be that the difference between nominative and accusative is the expected outcome of *móudnos/móudnom since unstressed *-o- before a final resonant seems to have given *-ä (cf. -(n)tär from *-(n)tor or sū from *so + u). In most accusative singulars the -e was restored. Or it is possible, with VW, to see the accusative singular as analogical after nouns like meñe/meñ ‘moon, month.’ +

+ + +
+

+maur +See mahūr. +

+ + +
+

+maul +‘?’
+[po]meṃ po kuśalasāsrap maul ārupi/// (173b4). +

+ + +
+

+mñcuṣka +See mäñcuṣka. +

+ + +
+

+mñcuṣke +See mäñcuṣke. +

+ + +
+

+-mpa +the ending of the ablative. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+mrakwe* +(n.) +‘± portion’
+[-, -, mrakwe//] +alyekä kca warttoṣṣe makūltsa tatrāpparmeṃ rūpsa klāya märsāne [lege: pärsāte] keṃne mrakwe yopsa-ne ‘tripping over some forest root, he fell on his face spraying a portion [?] on the ground [where] it entered in’ (88a2/3). +∎If correctly identified semantically, probably (as if) from PIE *mreǵhwo-, a derivative of *mṛǵhu- ‘short’ (more at märkwace) --VW, 1965:501-2, 1976:303. +

+ + +
+

+mrañco +(n.) +‘Piper nigrum Linn.’ (?) (a medical ingredient)
+[mrañco, -, -//] +(500a4, P-2b5). +∎In some fashion from BHS marica-? +

+ + +
+

+mrāce* +(n.) +‘summit’
+[-, -, mrāc//] +stmau ṣña-nwalñeṣṣepi Sumerntse mrācne ‘standing on the self-announcing summit of Sumeru’ (TEB-58-19), [in Manichean script] mr’š (Gabain and Winter [1958:12]). +∎TchA mrāc and B mrāce reflect PTch *mrāce but extra-Tocharian connections are unknown. Probably not with Winter (1965:205; also Schrader/Nehring, 1923:634) related to Sanskrit mūrdhán- ‘head’ as the latter is surely to be connected with Old English molda ‘top of the head’ nor with VW (303-4) from *mrōǵ-ti-, a derivative of *mereǵ- ‘boundary.’ +

+ + +
+

+Mrägaśiri* +(n.) +‘the third (or fifth) nakṣatra’ (roughly equivalent to Orion)
+[-, -, Mrägaśiri//] +(M-1b5). +∎From BHS mṛgaśiras-. +

+ + +
+

+mrik +part of a magical formula?
+srik mrik [the entire graffito] (Dd1) +

+ + +
+

+mruntsañ +‘?’
+[winamā]ññi pyapyaicci wawakāṣ po kompaino ayato eśnesaisäñ mruntsañ ka /// (588al). +

+ + +
+

+mrestīwe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘marrow’
+[mrestīwe, -, mrestīwe//] +yam-c ñakta śaranne astan=eṣke mrestiweśc ‘I go to thee, O God, for refuge in [thy] bones, even unto the marrow’ (241b2), [i]kañceṃ-waceṃ ṣukaunne mrestīwe kektsenne tä[nmastär-ne] ‘in the twenty-second week marrow appears in his [= fetus] body’ (603al). +∎Etymology uncertain. Probably from a pre-Tocharian *mostr- [: Sanskrit mastíṣka- ‘brain,’ Pashai mastrák ‘brain,’ Av mastərəg-an- ‘brain’ reflecting a PIE *mostṛ ‘brain, marrow’] with the *-r- moved to the beginning cluster. TchA mäśśunt ‘marrow’ may reflect a PIE *mest-yu-. Watkins (1995:535) suggests that *mostṛ(g) is methasized from *mosgṛt seen in Sanskrit majján- ‘marrow,’ English marrow, etc. (MA:79-80). Not with VW (293) who suggests a connection with Old Irish smiur ‘marrow’ and some other phonologically unlikely connections. +

+ + +
+

+mrausk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘feel an aversion to the world,’ K ‘make someone feel an aversion for the world’
+G Ps. VI /mrāusknā-/ [MP -, -, mrausknātär//]; Ko. V /mrāuskā-/ [MP // -, -, mrauskantär; Inf. mrauskatsi; Ger. mrauskalle]; Pt. Ib /mrāuskā-/ [MP mrauskāmai, -, mrauskāte// -, -, mrauskānte]; PP /māmrāuskā-/; +
+K Ps. Ixb /mrāuskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MPImpf. -, -, mrauskäṣṣītär//; APart. mrauskäṣṣeñca] +parskaṃ onmiṃ yamanträ kwipeññenträ ṣpä ykāṃṣäṃññenträ mrauskanträ ‘they fear and repent, feel shame and disgust and feel a revulsion for the world’ (K-3a5), tumeṃ weña śkamaiyya l[ā]nte palsko mrauskatsiś ‘then the ten-powered one spoke in order to turn the spirit of the king from the world’ (5a7); [alā]ṣmo[ṃ] srukoṣ ṣpä [lye]lykormeṃ ñiś mrauskāmai ‘having seen the sick and the dead I felt an aversion to the world’ (5a1); keklyauṣormeṃ mrauskāte mamrauskau wlawāte palsko ‘hearing [this] he became disgusted with the world; having this aversion, [his] spirit became controlled’ (A-1b5); tsārwäṣṣit-me śauśit-me mraukäṣṣitär alyenkäṃ ‘thou hast filled them with joy, and called them, and made others feel disgust with the world’ (231b2). + -- mrauskalñe ‘aversion or indifference to the world’: wnolmi [tan]e snai spelke mā mrauskalñ=ersenträ ‘the beings here [are] without zeal and do not evoke aversion for the world’ (3a6). +∎TchA mrosk- and B mrausk- reflect PTch *mrāuskā- but extra-Tocharian connections are dubious. VW suggests (304) that we have a metathesis from *maursk- and a relationship to Greek (a)maurós ‘somber, dark’ but neither the semantics nor the phonological development are particularly convincing. This etymology goes back to Schneider (1941:50) and VW (1941:69). +

+ + +
+

+mlake(-) +‘?’
+/// yśamna [lege: yśāmna] cmimra mlake/// (584b6). +

+ + +
+

+mlankäṃ +‘?’
+/// s ̇k mlankäṃ (351.2). +

+ + +
+

+mlamo +(adj.) +‘± overflowing’
+[m: mlamo, -, -//] +ṣañ läklenta warpatsi waśīr klautkoy-ñ arañce tsmoytär-ñ nete mlamo tākoy-ñ arañce ‘may my heart turn to diamond to endure my own sufferings; may my power grow; may my heart be overflowing’ (S-8b1). +∎Related to TchA mäl(a)- ‘± overflow’ (see the discussion under ¹mäl-). I take our hapax mlamo as possibly a "defective" spelling for *mlāmo, an adjective in -mo derived, as is usual, from a subjunctive stem *mälā-, corresponding to the thematic present seen in TchA (for the formation, compare makamo). If mlamo is correct, we might have formation from the thematic present with no palatalization as in ynamo ‘running’ or śaumo ‘person,’ qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+mlaṣe +‘?’
+Pawaśke ecce mlaṣe plaka (491aIII). +

+ + +
+

+mlut- +(vt.) +‘pluck’
+Ps. IX /mlutāsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. mlutāṣṣälle*]; Ko. V /mlutā-/ (see noun) +skrenantse paruwa mlutāṣällona ‘the feathers of a dove [are] to be plucked’ (W-32b3). + -- mlutālle (n.) ‘plucking’: ātse lutaṣäṃ mlutālle sākäṣṣäṃ pärsareṃ nakṣäṃ ‘it drives away thickness [of wits], it surpasses plucking [of the hair], it destroys lice [?]’ (W-42b2). +∎Probably (as if) from PIE *ml-eu-T-, an extension of *mel- ‘crush, etc.’ (cf. ¹mäl-), though otherwise an extension in -eu- seems to exist only in Iranian, i.e. Avestan mruta- ‘aufgereiben, schwach’ and mrūra- ‘aufreibend, verderblich’ (P:716-718; MA:247). Not, on both phonological and semantic grounds, with VW (300) related to Greek blṓskō ‘come, go.’ +See also mlutk-². +

+ + +
+

+mlutk-¹ +(vi.) +‘± disengage oneself, escape’ [with the ablative]
+Ps. III /mlutke-/ [MP -, -, mlutketär//]; Ko. V. /mlutkā-/ [MP mlutkāmar, -, -//] +mā su mlutketär - -meṃ ketara (G-Qa5-b); śwer orocceṃ mahāśrā[maṇeṃśc] kalymisa spārttau ce tallārñemeṃ mlutkāmar ‘turning in the direction of the four great refuges, may I escape this suffering’ (375a5). +∎Etymology unclear. The TchB word would appear to be related in some fashion to A mlusk- of the same meaning but the exact nature of their relationship is unclear. Lane (1965) and VW (299-300) would connect these words with Greek blṓskō which would make sense semantically but is possible phonologically only at the cost of reconstructing a PIE *melōu- which seems very unlikely. +

+ + +
+

+mlutk-² +(vt.) +‘± crush’
+PP /mlutku-/ +/// mlucku [sic] kuñcit ‘crushed sesame’ (W-7a6), mlutku kuñcītä (W-38b4). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, probably originally an intensive in -sḱe/o- to mlut-, q.v. Note that the same string of élargissements and stem formative (*ml-eu-T-sḱe/o-) is probably to be seen in klutk- (*k^wl-eu-T-sḱe/o-), q.v. +See also mlyotkau. +

+ + +
+

+mlyuwe* +(n.) +‘thigh’
+[-, -, mlyuwe/mlyuweñc, -, mlyuweñc/] +ṣamāneṃntse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-īke ke_uwco kalltärr-ne [sic] mälyuwiñcä epinkte kluṣnātärr-ne [lege: klupnātärr-ne] ‘[if] sexual desires arise in the mind of a monk and his ‘shame-place’ stands and he rubs it between [his] thighs’ (334b7), /// mlyuw[e]sa tättā_u /// ‘placed over the thigh’ [= BHS sakthnāropya] (H-149-ADD.131b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:51]). + -- mlyuweṣṣe* ‘prtng to the thigh’: mlyu[weṣ]ṣeṃ mīsa ‘meat of the thigh’ (H-ADD-149.88a6 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:116]). +∎(As if) from PIE *m(e)lewe/os- (for the formant *-eu- one should perhaps compare mäñcuṣke ‘prince’ or wicuko ‘cheek’) from PIE *mel- ‘member, joint’ [: Greek mélos (nt.) ‘member,’ Breton mell ‘knuckle’ (< *melso-), Lithuanian mélmenys ‘fat around the kidneys,’ Sanskrit márman- ‘member, vulnerable part of the body’ (P:720)] (VW:300). Perhaps with Hilmarsson (1989a:117) the TchA hapax mulyunt belongs here (317b5) ṣom nu āñc dho [lege: to] pe snālā mulyuntā to śā[lyiṃ] /// ‘having placed one foot on the snāl, and having placed the right ... on the thighs (?).’ +

+ + +
+

+mlyokotau +(n.) +‘± paste derived by grinding’
+[mlyotkau, -, -//] +kuñcit mlyotkau ‘sesame-paste’ (FS-a6). +∎A derivative of mlutk-², q.v. For the formation one should compare śanmau ‘bond’ from ś(c)änm- ‘bind.’ +

+ + +
+

+ya- +See i-. +

+ + +
+

+yak +(particle) +‘still’
+[ya]k no cwi soṃśke lalaṃṣkeṃ aināki caimp brā[hmaṇi yä]rt[t]en-ne śle tremeṃ ‘still, however, these common brahmans drag away his dear son with anger’ (88a5/6), ekä ṣ saimacce yak vijñāṃ lkāṣeñca (194b6), ciś yak raksau al[yi]ne | weñmo ptāka-ñ onolmeṃ[ts ta]rko-ñ tranko (TEB-64-03). +∎Perhaps with VW (586, though the details differ) we have a PIE *yu [: Gothic ju ‘already, but, then,’ Lithuanian jaũ ‘already,’ OCS ju ‘ibid.’] plus the strengthening particle k(ä), q.v. +See also yaka and ykāk. +

+ + +
+

+yaka +(particle) +‘still, nevertheless; furthermore, moreover’
+se ṣamāne yaka yaṣisa lānte kercyenne yaṃ parna tu-yknesa ṣärmameṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk still goes to the king's palace absent sufficient cause, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), tumeṃ leswi eṅsante-ne ~ yaka ynemane nauntaine klāya ‘then waves of weakness seized her; still walking on the street, she fell’ (H-149.X.5a4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +‣Unlike yak, yaka is rarely first in its clause. +∎From yak, q.v. + ā (cf. taka). +See also yak and ykāk. +

+ + +
+

+yakte +See yäkte. +

+ + +
+

+yakne +(nm.) +‘way, manner, custom, habit’ [as the second member of a compound with a number = ‘-fold’]
+[yakne, -, yakne//-, -, yakneṃ] +kärpye yakne mā klyomo ‘of common type, not noble’ [kärpye yakne = BHS grāmya-] (5b8), käṣṣīññe yäknesa asānne lyāmate-me ‘he seated himself on their throne in the manner of a teacher’ (81b6), [ā]ntsesa watsālai premane war āṣtsiś yakne yamaṣäṃ ‘carrying the water-jug on [his] shoulder he makes [in this] way to fetch [some] water’ (91a1), weñau n_änok yakneṃ yāmorntats ‘I will speak again of the ways of deeds’ (K-2a4). + -- -yakne ‘-fold’: śäk-okt yakne kleśänmameṃ empelona ‘the eighteen-fold dangerous kleśas’ (212a3); +
+yäknaikne ‘?’: papāṣṣorñe-yetweṃtsa yaitu ṣañ añm yäknaikne (372a2); +
+yäknetstse* ‘having [such] a manner’ (?): /// yäkneci lkāntär (201a4); +
+k_uce-yknesa ‘by whatever way, by whatever means’: tū no k_uce-yäknesa ‘but that, by what means?’ (PK-AS-16.2a6 [Pinault, 1989:155]). +∎TchA wkäṃ (pl. wäknant) and B yakne reflect PTch *w'äkne < PIE *weǵ^hno- from *weǵ^h- ‘move, pull (as of a wagon), travel’ [: Sanskrit váhati ‘leads, pulls,’ Avestan vazaiti ‘ibid.,’ Greek (Pamphylian) wekhétō ‘he should bring,’ Albanian vjedh ‘steal,’ Latin vehō ‘travel, lead, bring,’ OHG wegan ‘move (intr.),’ Lithuanian vežù ‘travel,’ etc. (P:1118-1120; MA:91)]. *weǵ^hno- is formally equivalent to Old Irish fén, Welsh gwain ‘a kind of wagon’ but shows the same semantic development we see in Germanic *wega- (PIE *weǵ^ho-), e.g. English way (Jacobsohn, 1934:212, VW:575-576). +

+ + +
+

+yakwe +(nm.) +‘horse’
+[yakwe, -, yakwe//yakwi, -, yakweṃ] +yakwe = BHS aśva- (306a5), yältse yäkwe[ṃ]śc rerittoṣ cwi [kokale] ‘his wagon hitched to a thousand horses’ (362b6), a[r]wāreṃ krentäṃ yakwe[ṃ]mpa ‘with the good horses saddled’ (409b1), yakwe pikulne ‘in the horse year’ (G-Su34.1). + -- yäkweññe ‘prtng to a horse’ (M-1b4). +∎Tch yuk and B yakwe reflect PTch *yäkwe from PIE *h₁eḱwo- [: Sanskrit áśva-, Avestan aspa-, Latin equus, Greek híppos, Old English eoh, Old Irish ech (P:301-302), Hieroglyphic Luvian azu(wa)-, Lycian esbe (Melchert, 1987:202; MA:273-274)] (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:927, VW:611). +

+ + +
+

+yakṣaññe, yakṣa- +See yākṣe. +

+ + +
+

+yakso* +(n.) +the name of a foodstuff
+[-, -, yaksai] +yaksai śawā[re] ‘they ate yaksai’ (434a2). +∎A variant perhaps of yäkṣiye ‘flour, meal’. +

+ + +
+

+yatikaṣṣe* +(n.) +a meter (4 X 25 syllables, rhythm 5/5/8/7)
+[-, -, yatikaṣṣe//] +(108b4). +

+ + +
+

+yateññe +(adj.) +‘prtng to Yāte River’
+[m: yateññe, -, -//] +yateññe ckeṣṣe ārte ‘the feeder-canal of the Yāte River’ (Otani 19.1.4 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+yatwe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘whip, thong’
+[-, -, yatwe//] +imeṣṣe no yatwesa ṣṣek wlā[walñesa] ‘with, however, the control of the whip of consciousness’ (213a2), /// yä[k]we yätwe ramt [yätwe = BHS kaśā-] (310a2). +∎Yatwe reflects a PIE *wed^h-wo- from *wed^h- ‘push, strike’ [: Sanskrit vadh- ‘strike, kill,’ Avestan vādāya- ‘push back,’ Greek ōthéō ‘push,’ (Hesychius) éthei ‘destroys,’ Old Irish fáisc- (< *wōd-sḱe/o-) ‘press’ (P:1115; MA:471)]. Particularly one should compare Old Irish fodb ‘battle-ax’ from *wod^h-wo- (VW, 1961b:381, 1976:588). +

+ + +
+

+yap +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘millet’ (?)
+[yap, ypantse, yap//] +Yāṣtare yap cakanma 9 Yāṣtare ysāre cakanma 5 ‘Y. [gave] 9 cāks of millet; Y. [gave] 5 cāks wheat’ (491b4), mamepi ypantse traksiṃ ‘awns of ripe millet’ (W-10a5). +‣Couvreur (apud Thomas, 1957:ix) suggests the meaning is ‘millet’ on the basis of parallel Chinese records, rather than more usual translation ‘barley.’ +∎Since the meaning is probably ‘millet,’ AB yap are probably not borrowed from BHS yava- ‘barley’ as is usually supposed (A yap is, however, surely borrowed from B.) It may be that TchB yap is from PIE *yeb^(h)om, itself by manner dissimilation from *yewom ‘grain, particularly barley’ [: Sanskrit yáva- ‘bread; grain, particularly barley,’ Avestan yava- ‘barley,’ Lithuanian javaĩ (pl.) ‘grain,’ Greek. zeiaí (pl.) ‘an inferior sort of wheat (einkorn or emmer wheat),’ Hittite ewan ‘± barley’ (P:512; MA:236)]. From *yeu- ‘ripen, mature.’ See also yu-. If correctly identified as to meaning, semantically equivalent to lyekṣye. +See also yu-. If correctly identified as to meaning, semantically equivalent to lyekṣye. See also ypiye. +

+ + +
+

+yape* +(n.) +‘spider’
+[-, ypentse, -//] +mäkte ypentse wpelm=auñento ṣpak wāpatsiś ... skainaṃ ‘as one tries indeed [in] the beginning to weave a spider's web’ (286a5). +∎From PIE *web^h- ‘weave, plait, spin’ [: Sanskrit ubhnāti, Greek huphaínō, Albanian venj (< *web^hnyō), OHG wefan, Old English wefan (P:1114; MA:572)], more particularly from a *web^ho- (m.) ‘spinner’ (Couvreur, 1950:128, VW:606). Cf. Sanskrit ūrṇa-vabhi- (m.) ‘spider’ (lit: ‘wool-weaver’). +See also wāp- and wpelme. +

+ + +
+

+yapoy +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘land, country’
+[yapoy, ypoyntse, yapoy//-, -, ypauna] +ypauna k_uṣaintsa ‘with lands and villages’ (2b6), yātka-me walo lyutsi po ypoymeṃ ‘the king ordered them out from the whole country’ (18a2), ypoy[n]tse salyai ‘the border of the country’ (86a5), yapoymeṃ wat lyucī-ne = BHS pravāsayed vā (H-149-ADD.8a4 [Thomas, 1974:102]). + -- ypoy-moko*: ‘land-elder’ (an official of some sort): ypoy-mokonta (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Pinault, 1984a:27]; Lévi, 1913:320). +∎TchA ype and B yapoy reflect a PTch *yäpoy that may reflect a putative PIE *h₁ep-o-wen (pl. *h₁ep-o-uneh_a) ‘dominion,’ a derivative of *h₁ep- ‘take’ [: Hittite epzi ‘takes’, Albanian jap ‘give’ (with well-paralleled reversal of direction), Armenian unim (< *h₁opn-) ‘possess,’ Avestan apayeiti (< *h₁opeye/o-) ‘obtains,’ Sanskrit āpnóti ‘obtains’ (P:50-51; MA:563)]. Not from a PIE *h₁en-pod- (nt.) as with Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:162), who compares Middle Irish inad (< *h₁eni-podo-), since the loss of the nasal is not expected. Similarly difficult is Hilmarsson's (1988) h₁en-bhuh_x-i (nt.) ‘dwelling place.’ Nor with VW (606) who connects this word with yäp- ‘enter’ but he can do so only because he wrongly thinks yäp- is from *yeu- and meant ‘go.’ Nor yet a compound *h₁ep-ouden of *h₁epi ‘on, near, adjacent’ and a proterokinetic *h_1/4óudn- ~ *h_1/4udén- ‘earth, land’ (Adams, 1990a:72-77). +See also ypoye and -ypoyṣe. +

+ + +
+

+yamaṣṣuki +(n.) +‘participant’
+[yamaṣṣuki, -, -//] +(132b6). +∎A nomen agentis from yām-. +

+ + +
+

+yari +See yriye. +

+ + +
+

+yare +(n.) +‘gravel’
+[yare, -, yare//] +///keñc kektseñ käccīyeṃ-ne yāresa ‘[someone] laid his body on the gravel’ (22b4), kärweñi yare tarśkañ salañce mäskenträ pākri ‘rocks, gravel, potsherds, salt-ground appear’ (K-8b4). +∎If, as seems possible, yāre at 22b4 is a misspelling for yare, it may be that this word is related to the otherwise isolated Greek hérma ‘underwater reef, cairn, ballast’ (see Frisk's inconclusive discussion, 1960:561-563). One might also compare the Lydian river name, Ermos whose epithet was polupsēphida ‘pebbly’ (Puhvel, 1984:161). Though whether the Tocharian and Greek words would then reflect a PIE *wer- or *yer- is ambiguous. If the former there would be the strong possibility of a relationship with warañce ‘sand,’ q.v.. Surely to be rejected is VW's suggestion (1941:166, 1976:589) that the Tocharian word comes from *y- (an intensive prefix) and *ōro-. +

+ + +
+

+Yarkāṃ* +(n.) +a place name, perhaps ‘Yarkand’
+[-, -, Yarkāṃ//] +[orocce]pi lānte Swarnatepi or-śacākare ākṣa Yārkaṃmeṃ ‘he announces the attestation of the great king Suvarṇadeva from Yarkand [?]’ (LP-5a15). +

+ + +
+

+yarke +(n.) +‘honor, reverence’ [N-genitive yarke yām- ‘to honor/ venerate someone’]
+[yarke, -, yarke//-, -, yärkenta] +yarke ynāñmñesa ‘with honor and reverence’ (5a3), tsama yarke poyśintse ‘the honor of the Buddha grew’ (16b6=18a2), yarke-ynāñmäññentane = BHS satkāreṣu (32b5), yarke peti ñaṣtär ‘he seeks honor and flattery’ (33b3), lantuññana yärkenta ‘kingly honors’ (94b5), pelaikneṃtse yarke yāmtsi ‘to honor the law’ (100b6), yärkentse aṣāṃ takāre ‘they were worthy of honor’ [PK-AS-16.2a2 (Pinault, 1989:154]), [in Manichean script] y’rgyy (Gabain/Winter [1958:15]). + -- yärkeṣṣe ‘prtng to honor’ (405b2); +
+yärkkessu ‘honorable’ (600a3). +∎A derivative of yärk-, q.v., more particularly TchB yarke and A yärk (pl. yärkant) reflect a PIE *h₁erkó- (m.) [: Sanskrit árcati ‘beams; praises, honors,’ arká- ‘ray, flash of lightning,’ Armenian erg (gen. sg. ergoy) ‘song,’ Old Irish erc ‘heaven’ (P:340; MA:449)] (VW, 1941:168, 1976:593). +See also yärk- and yärkemaññe. +

+ + +
+

+yartaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[-, -, yartaṣṣe//] +kwri no sanaṃ päknāträ ostmeṃ lyutsi kuṣaimeṃ wat no yartaṣṣe śer[kw] śanmaṣle ‘if one intends, however, to drive an enemy from [his] home or village, [one is] to bind a bond of yarta’ (M-3a8). +

+ + +
+

+Yarpāläśke* +(n.) +‘Yarpāläśke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Yarpāläśki, -//] +(490a-II-3). +

+ + +
+

+yarpo +(nnt.) +‘(religious) service; good deed’
+[yarpo, yärpontse, yarpo//yärponta, yärpontaṃts, yärponta] +yarp[o] nraints[e] = BHS puṇyapāpa- (4b1), yärponta [= BHS puṇya-] lykaṃtsä pos=amāskai karkats[i] ‘good works [are] above all difficult to be stolen by thieves’ (14b8). + -- yärpontaṣṣe* ‘prtng to good deeds/meritorious services’: yärpontaṣṣeṃ klautkeṃ ‘operations of meritorious services’ (K-10a6); +
+yärpossu ‘meritorious’: yärpossu wnolme ‘a meritorious creature’ (K-9b4). +∎Etymology uncertain. Is it a derivative of yärp- ‘oversee, observe, take care of,’ q.v., as the meaning would seem to indicate, or of wärp- ‘enjoy, undergo’ (so Winter, 1988:777, following Krause, 1952:51)? The latter might be a better fit morphologically as these (PIE) e-grade abstracts ending in (Tch) -o (e.g. raso, ṣiko, pilko, pirko) are otherwise matched by an ā-subjunctive as we find with wärp- rather than a thematic subjunctive as we find with yärp-. +See also yärper and yärparwa. +

+ + +
+

+yarm* +(nnt.) +‘measure’
+[-, -, yarm//-, -, yärmanma] +[aiśa]mñentse yaräm [sic] pramāṃ ‘the mete and measure [dyadic] of wisdom’ (110a4), snai yärm keś ‘without measure or number’ (220a4), yarm = BHS mātra- (547a4), pañäktentse wästsintse yarmtsa ... pañäktentse wästintse yarm ‘by the measure of the Buddha's robe’ (H-149.X.4b5 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), kṣana-yärmne ‘in only an instant’ (S-8b4), wärmiye tsarātre sakāpce sarja yarm ‘ant-extract, sakāpce, Shorea robusta, (each) a measure’ (W-3a5). + -- totkā-yärm (= yäkte-yärm), see s.v. totkā; +
+yätke-yärm, see yäkte; +
+ṣeme-yärm ‘in the same measure’ (W passim); +
+yärmaṃssu ‘well-measured, moderate’ or ‘according to measure’ (?): yärmaṃssu yamaṣälle ‘it [is] to be made well-measured/ moderate’ (H-149.X.4a6 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎TchA yärm and B yarm reflect PTch *yärm. The best connection outside of Tocharian is probably VW's (1979:912-3) with Hittite arma ‘moon’ (< *‘measurer’). VW himself connects both words with PIE *ar- ‘arrange, etc.,’ but the phonetics are against it and he must assume an "intensive prefix" y-. We can refine the comparison by positing a PIE *h₁er- ‘measure’ (probably distinct from *h₁er- ‘stand, arise’). The Tocharian reflex would represent *h₁ermṇ and the Hittite *h₁ormo-. Cf. Puhvel's discussion of arma- (1984:151-155). Also conceivable is Hilmarsson's suggestion (1987:66-71) that we have in *yärm a verbal noun from *h₁er- ‘stand, arise’ (see er-). This Tocharian word would be related to Proto-Germanic *ermena- ‘great, entire’ as in OHG irmindeot ‘great/entire nation,’ irmingot ‘great god,’ Old English yrmen ‘great, spacious,’ etc. +See also yirmakka. +

+ + +
+

+yal +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘gazelle’
+[yal, -, -//ylyi, ylaṃts, ylaṃ] +[krentau]natse ylaṃts walo ‘the virtuous king of the gazelles’ (232b5), toṃ ylyi (363b2), yal ylaṃśke [a meter of 4 X 17 syllables; rhythm 6/6/5] (PK-AS-16.3b3 [Pinault, 1989:157]). +‣The Tocharian A yäl is masculine in the singular (no plural forms are attested). Krause and Thomas (1964) give the TchB form as "alternans" (i.e. neuter) but there is no positive evidence for the gender of any singular form; the one plural attestation is definitely feminine. It seems unlikely that the designation of so salient an animal would be neuter (i.e. masculine in the singular, à la TchA, and feminine in the plural, à la TchB) so it seems reasonable to suppose that we have an epicene noun, masculine when referring to a male and feminine when referring to a female. +∎TchA yäl and B yal reflect a PTch *yäl. Hilmarsson (1986a:162), supposing this *yäl to be neuter, derives the PTch form from a PIE *h₁el-ṇ and related, as Schulze had already seen (1927), to OCS elenь Armenian eɫn, Greek ellós ‘fawn,’ élaphos ‘red deer,’ etc. (P:303-314; MA:154-155; see also Adams, 1985a). Different in ablaut and stem formation is Hittite aliya(n)- ‘roe(buck)’ (Puhvel, 1991:139). VW (591) also suggests a *h₁el-ṇ as the antecedent of PTch *yäl-, only to reject it in favor of *h₁elōn which would give A yäl regularly, a form that was then borrowed into B. I prefer to take both A and B forms from *h₁elni- (cf. Lithuanian élnis), a form which would have produced a PTch nom. sg. *yäll > yäl, whence the single -l- was extended to the entire paradigm. +See also ylaṃśke. +

+ + +
+

+yaltse +(numeral) +‘thousand’
+[yaltse, -, yaltse//yältsenma, -, yältsenma] +y[ä]ltsenma tmanenma ... wnolmi ‘thousands, tens of thousands of creatures’ (3b2/3), sanai sanai yaltse tinārnta ‘one by one a thousand denarii’ (366a4). +∎TchA wälts and B yaltse reflect a PTch *w'ältse possibly from PIE *wel-tyo-, cf. OCS velьjь or velikъ ‘great’ also ‘thousand’ (Meillet, 1911-12:292, VW:555). Winter (1991:124) suggests instead a PIE *welso-, a thematic derivative of putative *wélos ‘greatness.’ Whether, with Van Windekens and Pokorny (1959:1138), the Slavic and Tocharian forms are derivatives of a verbal root *wel- ‘press’ remains unclear. +

+ + +
+

+yawakṣār +(n.) +‘an alcali prepared from the ashes of green barley’ (a medical ingredient)
+[yawakṣār, -, -//] +(FS-b2). +∎From BHS yavakṣara-. +

+ + +
+

+yaṣi +See yṣiye. +

+ + +
+

+Yaśa +(n.) +‘Yaśa’ (PN)
+[Yaśa, -, -//] +Yaśa (Dd3) [this comprises the entire text]. +

+ + +
+

+yaśasene* +(n.) +‘± buddhist elder’ (?)
+[//-, -, yaśaseneṃ] +nawāke De[wa]rakṣite yaśaseṃ [lege: yaśaseneṃ] Indriśkempa ‘the novice D. with the yaśasene I.’ (G-Qol). +‣This would appear to be a title of some sort rather than a proper name as Pinault (1986) suggests. +∎BHS yaśa- + sena-? (Compound not in M-W or Edgerton.) +

+ + +
+

+Yaśaswine* +(n.) +PN?
+[-, Yaśaswini, -//] +(109b5). +

+ + +
+

+Yaśārakṣīte +(n.) +‘Yaśārakṣīta’ (PN)
+[Yaśārakṣīte, -, -//] +(G-Qa2). +

+ + +
+

+yaśe* +(n.) +‘± honor’
+[//-, -, yaśeṃ] +(252b6). +∎From BHS yaśa-/yaśas-. +

+ + +
+

+Yaśodhara +(n.) +‘Yaśodharā’ (PN of the wife of Śākyamuni)
+[Yaśodhara, Yaśodharai, Yaśodhara//] +(95a2). +

+ + +
+

+yaśodharapralāp* +(n.) +the name of a meter
+[-, -, yaśodharapralāp//] +(394b7). +

+ + +
+

+Yaśonaka* +(n.) +‘Yaśonaka’ (PN)
+[-, Yaśonakantse, -//] +(Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+yaṣṣuca * +(n.) +‘beggar’
+[//yaṣṣūcañ, yaṣṣūcaṃts, yaṣṣūcaṃ] +kr_ui ñke tetekā śänmyeṃ yaṣṣūcañ lareṃ śauly ñi yaṣyeṃträ ‘if suddenly the beggars were to come and ask for my dear life’ (78a1), [śwātsi yoktsi] yaṣucaṃ tnek yotonträṃ [sic] soyasi ‘the beggars are capable of satisfying themselves [with] food and drink’ (554b2). +∎A derivative of yāṣṣu ‘begged food’ which is, in turn, from yāsk- ‘to ask, beg’ qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+yasa +(n.) +‘gold’
+[yasa, ysāntse, yasa//] +rano ysā[ṃ]tse = BHS api suvarṇasya (H-149-ADD.105b5 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32]), yasa ñkante wrākaññeṃ wmera ‘gold-, silver-, pearl-jewels’ (PK-NS-18A-a2 [Thomas, 1978a:239]). + -- ysā-yok ‘gold-like, golden’: aurtsai ysā-yokäṃ waraṃ[ś] ‘the broad, golden sand’ (566b6); +
+ysāṣṣe ‘prtng to gold, golden’ (74b3); +
+ysāññe ‘golden’ (237a1). +∎TchA wäs (sg.m.) and B yasa reflect a PTch *w'äsā (f.) from PIE "thème II" *h_aweseh_a which is to be compared to the "thème I" seen in Latin aurum, Old Lithuanian ausas, and Old Prussian ausis (P:86-87; MA:234). Cf. Feist (1913:430, VW:663). +See also Ysāṣṣa-pyāpyo, ysañiye, and possibly ysāre. +

+ + +
+

+yasar* +(nnt.) +‘blood’
+[-, -, yasar//ysāra, -, ysāra] +reske[ṃ]-ñ ysāra ‘blood flows to me [= I am bleeding]’ (90a6), tso staukkanatär-ne śle yasar kalträ ‘his penis swells; it stands with blood’ (FS-b5), klokastäṃnmeṃ ... pletkar-c ysāra ‘from thy pores blood poured forth’ (S-8a4). + -- ysārtstse* ‘bloody’: [r]aiwepi memīl[ṣe]pi ysārccepi kosintse ‘[a medicine] for a long-standing, harmful, bloody cough’ (497a4); +
+yasar-tsamo ‘raktagulma’ (?) [raktagulma- = chronic enlargement of the spleen or other abdominal gland]. +∎TchA ysār (pl. ysāräṃ) and B yasar reflect PTch *yäsār from PIE "collective" *h₁ésh₂ōr [: "non-collective" Hittite ēshar, Cuneiform Luvian āshar-sa (< Proto-Anatolian *ēshar [Melchert, 1987:197, fn. 36]), Greek éar (< *h₁ēsh₂ṛ), Sanskrit ásṛk (gen. asnás), Armenian ariun, Old Latin as(s)er, Latvian asins, all ‘blood’ (P:343; MA:71)] (Schulze, 1927, VW:607). +

+ + +
+

+yase* +(n.) +‘shame’
+[-, -, yase//] +[ṣemeṃts wsā]sta yase kwīpe alyenkäṃts ‘thou gavest shame to some others’ (74a2), yase kwīpesa ṣek mäskenträ su kekenu wnolme ‘with shame and modesty such a being becomes equipped’ (K-10a4). +‣A near synonym with kwīpe, with which it is always attested in a quasi-compound. (The consistent marking of stress on the first vowel of kwīpe suggests it is not a full compound. If it were a full compound we might expect *yasé-kwipe.) +∎Perhaps from PIE *yeso- (m.) or *yesos- (nt.) from *yes- ‘boil, seethe’ and related then to yäs-/yās-, q.v. (so VW:588, though he would not relate yase to yäs-, only to yās-). Phonologically possible is Normier's (1980:259) connection with OHG ēra ‘honor, respect’ (cf. also Greek aídomai ‘honor, be ashamed;’ further, P:16). The Tocharian form would be from *h_aiso- while the Germanic would be from *h_ae/oiso/eh_a-. It is better not to separate yase from yäs-, yāso, and yasoñña. +

+ + +
+

+yasoñña +(n.) +‘sap’ (?)
+[yasoñña, -, -//] +erkantse yasoñña kremīya tsänkanta pyāpyo ‘the sap, kremīya, shoots and flower of the arka-plant’ (W-5a6). +‣It seems clear that in this passage we have a list of parts and/or products of a plant. +∎The meaning ‘sap’ suggested here is based on a presumed etymological connection with yäs- ~ yās- ‘boil, be excited’ and presupposes a semantic development *‘that which bubbles up’ to ‘sap.’ For the semantic development we can compare here Sanskrit niryāsá- ‘exudation of trees or plants, juice, resin, milk.’ +

+ + +
+

+yast* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘precipice’
+[-, -, yast//] +wärkṣältsa ränka ike postäṃ ṣäle yäst ‘with energy he scaled at last the mountain precipice’ (338a4), pälsko ersāte wrocce yäst ‘the spirit evoked the great precipice’ (338a5), cänke[n]e [ṣ]e[nts]e stāmais yäst [t]aiy ñäktene ‘the two gods stood [at] the precipice in the bosom of the mountain’ (338b7). +‣Though only attested with the spelling yäst the texts in which it appears are all of a type that spell underlying /ä/ as <ä> whether or not it is stressed. The normative spelling would be <yast>. +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps from PIE *h₁es-tu- (or *h₁es-ti- or *h₁es-to- [nt.]), a verbal noun from *h₁es- ‘throw’ [: Sanskrit ásyati, Avestan aŋhyeiti, Hittite siē/ya-, all ‘shoot, spurt, gush, flow’ (< *h₁s-ye/o-; cf. Kimball, 1987)] (VW:596, though without the Hittite and differing in details). Perhaps here also belongs Hittite ezzan ‘chaff’ (< *h₁eso- [nt.] ‘that which is thrown [in the air]’) and Greek ēia ‘id.’ (< *h₁ēsiyo-) (Puhvel, 1984:322-3). +See also yäst-. +

+ + +
+

+yāko(-) +‘?’
+///meṃ po wase yāko/// (564a5). +

+ + +
+

+yākṣe +(nm.) +‘spirit, ghost’
+[yākṣe, -, yākṣeṃ//yākṣi, yakṣeṃts, yākṣeṃ] +yākṣi maiyya kälpāskeṃ kauseṃ wnolmeṃ māka ‘the yakṣas obtain power and kill many creatures’ (3a1), nāki yakṣi preti ‘nāgas, yakṣas, pretas’ (333b9). + -- yakṣaññe ‘prtng to a yakṣa’ (99a5). +∎From BHS yakṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+yāgānusmṛti +(n.) +‘calling to mind an oblation or offering’ (?)
+(567a1). +∎If from BHS yāga- + anusmṛti- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+yānk- +(vi.?/vt.) +G ‘be deluded’; K ‘cast a spell on, bewitch’
+G Ps. IV /yonko-/ [MPPart. yonkomane; Ger. yonkolle]; Ko. V /yānkā-/ [A -, -, yānkaṃ//]; +
+K Ps. IX /yānkäsk^ä/_e-/ [A yānkäskau, -, -//; Inf. yānkäs(t)si] +/// läkleñ yonkoma[n]e /// ‘deluded by suffering’ (352b5); /// ke - - - w ̇r pālkaṃ yānkaṃ wat mā tu s[klo]kn[e] enkaṣle (516b1); cau ñäś ///[six syllables]///meṃ yānkäskau (351b4), /// weña ṣe ka yatāte ñiś yānkässi [] śukentasa swaro[na] ‘[the Buddha] spoke: just once was she [scil. Yaśodharā] capable of bewitching me with [her] sweet charms’ (109a10). +‣The meaning of this verb is elusive. The two clearest contexts, one in TchB (109a10) and and one in A, involve the causative. The passage in A is A-120a2: /// plyaskeṃṣiṃ yātluneyäṣ pkänt yānkṣā ‘without [the protection of] [his] meditational capacity, [someone] bewitched [him]’ (= ‘without the protection of meditational capacity he was bewitched by him or her’). The contexts in which the non-causative occur are even less helpful. It is not even clear if the non-causative is transitive (as usually supposed, and thereby identical with the causative) or intransitive (as supposed by Hilmarsson 1991b). The only example in TchA of the non-causative is provided by the abstract yānklune at A-69b6: tärkoräṣ sne siṃñlune sne yānklune waśirr oki ‘having let go without depression [or ‘satisfaction’?] and without delusion [?] like a diamond.’ +∎Etymology uncertain. Hilmarsson (1991b:139-142) argues that it should be connected with PIE *yaǵ- [: Sanskrit yájati ‘worships, offers, hallows,’ Avestan yazaite ‘worships,’ Greek házomai ‘venerate,’ hagízō ‘consecrate, hallow’ (P:501; MA:650)]. The Tocharian verb would reflect a variant with an infixed nasal, such as we find in the semantically similar root *sak- in its Latin guise sanciō ‘consecrate, make inviolable (of a law); condemn with a penalty.’ For the Tocharian semantic development he points to Old Norse heilla ‘bewitch, enchant, infatuate, spellbind,’ in origin a denominative to heill (nt.) ‘omen, auspice’ and/or heill (f.) ‘good omen, happiness,’ all further related to heilagr ‘holy.’ In any case, VW's suggestion (1971d:447, 1976:589) that this word is a combination of an intensive prefix y- + *ōnḱ- from *eneḱ- ‘carry’ cannot be correct. +See also possibly yānkune*. +

+ + +
+

+yānkune* +(n.) +‘priest’ (?), ‘augur’ (?)
+[-, -, yānkune//] +- ṣkunekeṣṣe sānk nāriṃts yānkuneś yärṣalñe yamasträ ‘the - ṣkunekeṣṣe congregation pays homage to the yānkune of the Nāriñ’ (TEB-74). +∎Hilmarsson (1991b:142) suggests the tentative meanings given here and further suggests that we have here a borrowing by TchB speakers of a TchA word, an abstract built to yānk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yāt- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be capable of’ [often with infinitive complement]; K ‘have power over; tame’
+G Ps. IV /yoto-/ [MP //-, -, yotontär; MPImpf. -, -, yoitär//]; Ko. V /yātā-/ [A -, -, yātaṃ//; AOpt. //-, -, yātoyeṃ; Inf. yātatsi; Ger. yātalle ‘capable’]; Pt. Ib /yātā-/ [MP yatāmai, -, yatāte//]; PP /yāyātā-/; +
+K Ps. IX /yātäsk^ä/_e-/ [A -, -, yātäṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. (= Ps.) [Aopt. yātäṣṣimar, -, yātäṣṣi//; Inf. yātäs(t)si]; Pt. IV /yātäṣṣā-/ [MP -, yātäṣṣatai, -//]; PP /yāyātäṣṣu-/ +yaṣucaṃ tnek yotonträṃ [sic] soyasi ‘the beggars are capable, then, of satisfying [themselves]’ (554b2), ñke ṣārttai wentsi mā yotonträ ‘now they cannot say an encouragement’ (H-149.ADD.65b4 [Thomas, 1954:723]); piś bhūminta saim yāmu yātaṃ ertsi ‘having made a refuge of the five bhūmis, it [scil. ānāpāsmṛti] can be evoked’ (41a6), mā po yātalle śāmñe kantwasa weṃtsi ‘all [are] not capable of speaking in a human tongue’ (408a6); /// weña ṣe ka yatāte ñiś yānkässi ‘[the Buddha] spoke: just once was she [scil. Yaśodharā] capable of bewitching me’ (109a10); yayātau śpālmeṃ śāmna[ts] = BHS dāntaḥ śreṣṭho manuṣyāṇām (306a4), weñā-neś ñakta se onkolmo yayātau śpālmeṃ ‘he said to him: lord, this elephant [is] best tamed’ (DA-1b1 [Stumpf, 1970:112]); ///ke yayātaṣ menāktsa cau arth yātṣäṃ (201a3); k_use yäkwe yātaṣṣi [sic] = BHS yo hy aśvaṃ damayej jātyam (310a5), pācer saim-wästa śrāṃ yā[tä]ssi epastyu ‘O father and refuge, learnèd to make ready a hiding-place’ (244b2); ṣkäss yälloṃṣṣeṃ coläṃ yakweṃ yātäṣṣatai ‘thou hast tamed the six wild horses of the senses’ (213a1). + -- yātalñe ‘ability; power, majesty’: saṃvaräṣṣe yātalñe mā karstaytär-ñ [lege: karstoytär-ñ] ‘may my ability/power in the saṃsāra not be cut off’ (270a3), wärpāmai lantuṃñeṣṣe yātalñe ‘I enjoyed my kingly majesty’ (372b3); +
+yātalñetstse ‘capable, powerful’ (506a2); +
+yātalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to power/ability’ (527b2). +
+yayātäṣṣormeṃ: päst yayātäṣṣormeṃ = BHS vinīya (H-ADD.149.62a5 [Couvreur, 1966:165]); +
+yātäṣṣeñca ‘one who tames, tamer’: [po] wäntarwa yātäṣṣeñcaiścä = BHS sarvārthasiddhāya (311b2). +∎TchA yāt- and B yāt- are from PTch *yēt-ā- (in formation like Latin cēlāre--cf. tsāp-) or possibly *yōt-ā- (cf. yām-) to the PIE verbal root *yet- ‘strive, fly at, concern oneself zealously’ [: Sanskrit yátati], Avestan yateiti ‘place in order; strive after,’ also Old Irish ítu ‘thirst’ (< *yētu-tūt-) (P:506-507; MA:472)]. Under this analysis the original (iterative-intensive) present *yētā- (> yātā- by ā-umlaut) has been relegated to the subjunctive by a newer, analogical present yoto-. This etymology goes back in embryo to Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:173) and VW (1941:167; cf. also Jasanoff, 1978:45) and is surely preferable to VW's later suggestion (645) of a borrowing from the Sanskrit past participle yata- from yam- ‘hold, sustain, tame, etc.’ +See also ayātaitte and ayāto and, more distantly, yät-. +

+ + +
+

+Yānayaśe +(n.) +(PN?)
+/// Yānayaśe /// (G-Su-25.A). +

+ + +
+

+yāntär* +(n.[sg.m.]) +‘± restraint, fetter’
+[-, -, yāntär//] +[sruka]lñeṣṣe yāntärne ‘in the fetter of death’ (47b1). +∎From BHS yantra-. +

+ + +
+

+yām- +(vt.) +‘do, commit, make, effect’
+Ps. IX /yāmäsk^ä/_e-/ [A -, -, yamaṣṣäṃ//-, yamaścer, -; MP -, -, yamastär//yamaskemtär (~ yāmskemtär), -, -; AImpf. // -, -, yamaṣyeṃ (~ yāmṣyeṃ); MPImpf. -, -, yamaṣṣitär//; MPPart. yamaskemane ‘doing, acting’; Ger. yamaṣṣälle]; Ko. I /yām-/ [A yāmu, -, -//; MP -, -, yāmtär//-, -, yamantär; AOpt. -, -, yāmi//-, yamīcer,-; MPOpt. -, -, yamītär//; Inf. yāmtsi; Ger. yamalle]; Ipv. /p(ä)yām-/ [ASg. p(ä)yām; MPSg. p(ä)yātsar; MPDu. p(ä)yāmtsait; MPPl. p(ä)yāmtsat]; Pt. /yāmäṣṣā-/ [A -, yamaṣṣasta (~ yāmṣasta), yamaṣṣa (~ yāmṣa)//-, yamaṣṣaso (~ yāmṣaso); M -, -, yamaṣṣate (~ yāmṣate)//]; PP /yāmo-/ + [ku]hākäññe yamaṣäṃ piś-yäknesa ‘he does conjuring in five ways’ (11b7), y[e]s mäkte maś[c]e[r] [lege: yamaścer] [poñe]s säsuśkaṃ poñes empreṃ ostmeṃ lantsi camñcer mā wat [wesäṃ]mpa ‘how will you handle [this]? Say [this]: children, tell the truth; can you leave the house with us?’ [cf. K. T. Schmidt, 1986:646-647] (108a5); se ṣamāne ayāṣṣe kemeṣṣe sucīkar yamastär pāyti ‘whatever monk makes a needlecase for himself out of ivory, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]), tañ paiyneṣṣai saiym yāmskemttär ‘we take refuge in thy feet’ (108a9); mā snai-p[e]le yāmṣyeṃ ‘they did nothing unlawful’ (3b1); [ono]lmeṃ aiśai yamaṣṣitär ‘he tended creatures’ (359b2); mā yamaskemane = BHS akurvann (308b7), [pa]lskone yamaskemanentse = BHS manasi kurvata (527a3); yāmṣälle = BHS karaṇīya] (27b3), śāmñe ayāṣe curm yamaṣle ‘a powder of human bone [is] to be made’ (M-2a3); apsāltsa yāmu pīle kektseṃne ‘[if] with a sword I make a wound in the body’ (17b3); lāre yāmtr = BHS seveta (U-9b1); k_uce yāmi ālmesa ente = BHS kiṃ kuryād udapānena (PK-NS-107a4 [Thomas, 1976b:106]), yāmi = BHS caret (U-12a5), te yamīcer yes ot tāṃ pātrai warpoymar ‘[if] you were to do this, then I would accept this begging-bowl’ (20a5); pelaiknentane śtwāra toṃ | ākli yamītär ‘may he practice [= teach himself] these four laws’ (23a4); alyekepi kartse yāmtsi ‘to do good for another’ (282b5); twe ñī yaitkorsa mant pyām Tarmawirñe Iskil parra iyaṃ ‘do so by my order! T. and I. will come through’ (LP-15a3); yene saim pyamttsait ‘take refuge you two!’ (295a9); cotit yamaṣṣa-me ‘he accused them’ [cotit yām- = BHS codaya-] (PK-AS-18B-a2 [Pinault, 1984b]), onmiṃ mā yāmṣa[so] kṣānti mā tākas ‘you did not repent; forgiveness you will not have’ (42a3); śarye wassi rutkāte kaunäś sark kauc yāmṣate ‘he took off his outer garment and put his back high [= full] to the sun’ (5b4), anantārśänta solme tarya yāmṣate ‘the three death-sins together he committed’ (22b3), su onmiṃ yāmṣate ‘he repented’ (34a2), pontaṃts pāke yāmṣasta ‘thou hast shared with all’ (231b2); śateñ wnolmi cai mā śaiṣṣe kca ynāñm yā[m]oṣ ‘these rich creatures, not deemed worthy by anyone’ (24a3), yāmoṣne = BHS kṛte (U-15a3). +‣Particularly in "popular" texts we find shortened forms of the present and preterite, mask^'ä/_e- and maṣṣā- for yamask^'ä/_e- and yamaṣṣā- (cf. K. T. Schmidt, 1986:645-647). The combination of noun + yām- is the primary (and probably only productive) way of creating denominative verbs in attested Tocharian B. The resultant verb may be (rarely) intransitive, e.g. ankaiṃ yām- ‘vomit,’ apākärtse yām- ‘be visible, be manifest’ (= BHS prakāś-), onmiṃ yām- ‘repent,’ ārwer yām- ‘prepare oneself’ (this verb may also be transitive), wīna yām- ‘be pleased, amused, gratified’ (= BHS ram-). Overwhelmingly more common are transitive verbs. In the usual case the direct object of the compound verb is in the accusative, e.g. ate yām- ‘take off [clothes]’ (= B rutk-), anumodit yām- ‘give approbation to,’ appamāt yām- ‘mistreat,’ arwer yām- ‘prepare,’ aiśai yām- ‘take care of, tend,’ keś yām- ‘count’ (= B ṣäṃs-), kṣānti yām- ‘forgive,’ cotit yām- ‘accuse’ (= BHS codaya-), telki yām- ‘sacrifice’ (possibily intransitive), nermit yām- ‘shape,’ pākri yām- ‘make public,’ mentsi yām- ‘sadden, trouble,’ yneś yām- ‘realize,’ reme yām- ‘make manifest, witness,’ lāre yām- ‘love’ (= BHS sev-), samanit yām- ‘convoke, assemble,’ sarit yām- ‘memorize,’ or saim yām- ‘take refuge in.’ Less frequently the direct object is in a case other than the accusative, usually the genitive, e.g. āke yām- ‘end’ (+ gen.), ākli yām- ‘teach’ (+ locative), pāke yām- ‘share’ (+ gen.), paucciṃ yām- ‘renounce’ (+ ablative), pkante yām- ‘hinder’ (+ gen.), yarke yām- ‘honor’ (+ gen.), wasaṃpaṃ yām- ‘ordain’ (+ gen.), spaktāṃ yām- ‘serve’ (+ gen.). In a few cases it is not clear what case the direct object takes, e.g. erkatte yām- ‘mistreat,’ carit yām- ‘practice’ (?), tep yām- ‘?,’ perāk yām- ‘have faith in,’ waṣamñe yām- ‘make friends’ (= BHS sakhyaṃ kṛ- [308a1]), spelke yām- ‘be zealous for.’ + -- yāmṣeñca (adj./n.) ‘doing; doer’: po cmelats āke yāmṣeñca ‘making an end of all births’ (30a6), ṣek yamaṣṣeñc[añ] = BHS sātatyakāriṇa (305b2), tsain yamäṣeñca = BHS iṣukāra (TX-3a2 [Thomas, 1974:87]); +
+yamalläññe ‘deed; function’: mā āyor mā telki yamalñe [mā] kwälñe nesäṃ ‘there is no gift, no sacrifice, no libation’ (28a6), [wänta]rwats yamalläññe ‘the function of things’ (521a1), yamalñe = BHS kriyā- (Y-3a5); +
+yamalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to a deed or function’ (600b1). +∎Etymology uncertain. Certainly to be rejected is VW's suggestion (644-645) that yām- is a borrowing from Sanskrit yam- ‘hold, sustain, tame’ and Tch yäm- ‘achieve, attain,’ q.v. However, it is possible to see in PTch *yām- an ō-grade iterative-intensive to this root. Certainly a semantic connection between ‘attain, achieve’ and ‘do, make’ makes eminent sense (P:505; MA:170-271). The relationship between "basic" yäm- and iterative-intensive yām- may be paralleled by näk- ‘destroy,’ nāk- ‘blame,’ and tsäk- ‘burn,’ tsāk- ‘illuminate.’ All six of these verbs have athematic (Class I) subjunctives and Class III preterites; For yām- one should note TchA preterite yāmäs; the TchB preterite yāmäṣṣā- is clearly secondary to the present yāmäsk^'ä/_e-. (With different morphological relations between the paired roots with short and long vowels are plätk-/plātk- ‘arise, develop’/‘spread (out),’ wäsk-/wāsk- ‘move,’ TchA räp-/TchB rāp- ‘dig, plow,’ klutk-/klautk- ‘turn/turn into,’ and lit-/lait- ‘pass on, move’/‘depart.’) Another possibility is that AB yām- reflects a PIE *yoh₁-m- from *yeh₁- ‘throw; put [by throwing]’ (P:502) with an -m- élargissement as perhaps in ṣäm-. For the o-grade of *yoh₁m- one might compare English do, etc. from *d^heh₁-. Such an analysis connects this word with the other forms of ‘do, make’ in TchA, namely ya- and ypa- which are from yeh₁- and possibly *pi-yeh₁- (with metathesis) respectively. This connection for yām- goes back originally to Benveniste (1936:235). For a discussion of PIE *yeh₁- ‘do,’ see Adams (1987b). +See also yāmätstse, -yāmi, yāmor, and possibly yäm-. +

+ + +
+

+yāmätstse* +(n.) +‘doer’
+[//yāmäcci, -, -] +n_äno nw aksaskau-me pelaikn[e] ṣotri yāmci mā [yes] ‘again and again I expound to you the law; you [however are] not doers of [any] sign’ (45a4). +∎A derivative of yām-. +

+ + +
+

+-yāmi* +(n.) +‘-doer’
+[-, yamintse, yāmi//yāmiñ, -, -] +walo weṣṣäṃ ramer ecce pwāyar-me kärtse-yamiñ cai ñi ‘the king says: quickly lead them forth; they [are] doers of good for me’ (81b5), kärtse-yamintse /// = BHS hitakratuś ca śāsanam (251a4), ///y[ā]mintse = BHS -karmāṇa- (304b3). +∎A agent noun from yām-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yāmuttsi +(n.) +a kind of waterfowl [= BHS haṃsa-]
+[yāmuttsi, -, -//-, yāmuttsiṃts, -] +[yām]utts[i]nts[o] yt[ā]rye = BHS haṃsapatha- (29a3), cai kokīl ṣparā-yäkre seri yam[uttsi] (575b2). +‣See Schwentner (1958), who identifies this word as ‘flamingo’ on the basis of its equivalence with Skt haṃsa- but the Sanskrit word cannot, it would appear, be so strictly circumscribed. Its central meaning would seem to have been ‘goose’ but it might also include either ‘duck’ or ‘swan’ or both (as does the Hindi descendant). Only in Sinhalese is ‘flamingo’ attested as part of this etymon's meaning. +∎Etymology unknown. TchA yāmutsi and B yāmuttsi have universally (including VW:645) been taken as borrowings, either directly from Chinese ying-wou-tsou (Bailey, 1936:915) or from Sogdian‘ym’wtsy (ēmūtsi) which, in turn, is from the Chinese (Poucha, Archiv Orientální 5:88-89 [1933] apud VW). Against this derivation are difficulties both phonological (the first syllable of the Tocharian forms certainly does not match either the Chinese or the Sogdian) and semantic (both the Chinese and the Sogdian mean ‘parrot’). +

+ + +
+

+yāmor +(nnt.) +‘deed, action, accomplishment’ [often in a figura etymologica with yām-]
+[yāmor, yāmorntse, yāmor//-, yāmorntaṃts, yāmornta] +snai yamor ‘without basis’ (15a6=17a8), yātka śak [k]renta pāssi wnolmeṃ yā[mo]rnta ‘he ordered creatures to practice the ten good deeds’ (22a7), [yā]mornta mā mäskeṃträ = BHS saṃskārā na bhavanti (157a2), ce yāmorsa laikontär-ñ käntwaṣṣana yāmornta ‘by this action may they cleanse me of the sins of the tongue’ (241b5/6), [cwi o]nolme[n]tse yāmor = BHS pudgalasya karma (524a3), yāmornts=okonta ‘the fruits of the deed’ (K-8a3). + -- yāmorṣṣe ‘prtng to a deed or deeds’: yāmorṣṣe śerkne ‘in the deed-cycle’ (154b5); +
+yāmorntaṣṣe* ‘prtng to deeds’ (K-8a4); +
+ -yāmortstse* ‘having a deed’: kärtse-yāmorcepi cme[lantse] ‘of the good-deed birth’ (121a2); +
+yāmor-ñäkte ‘Karma-god’ (496a5). +∎A derivative of yām-, q.v., i.e. yām- + -or. +

+ + +
+

+yāre +See yare. +

+ + +
+

+Yāśe +(n.) +‘Yāśe’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Yāśe, Yāśi, -//] +(460a7, G-Qa3.B1). +

+ + +
+

+Yāṣtare +‘Yāṣtare’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Yāṣtare, -, -//] +(491b4). +

+ + +
+

+yāṣṣu* +(n.) +‘alms, i.e. food obtained by begging’
+[-, -, yāṣṣu//] +śwoy[eṃ] yāṣṣu ‘may they eat begged food’ (12b1), yāṣṣu pete ‘give begged food!’ (325b4). +∎A derivative of yāsk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yās- +See yäs-. +

+ + +
+

+yāso* +(nf.) +‘pleasure, delight, excitement’
+[-, -, yāso//] +katkauñai yās[ompa] ṣ[e]sa ynū[ca] ‘going together with joy and excitement’ (155b4), yāso = BHS cchandanam (527a4). +∎A derivative of yäs-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yāsk- +(vt.) +‘beg’ [often used with the object superficially deleted (as in English)]
+Ps. IX /yāskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, yaskastär//yaskaskemar, -, -; Ger. yaṣṣalle]; Ko. II /yāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, yāṣtär//yaskemtär, -, -; MPOpt. //-, -, yaṣyentär]; Pt. Ib /yāṣṣā-/ [MP -, -, yaṣṣāte/] +sankameṃ śtvārka yṣiṣṣe plāki yaskaskemar parna simtsa yatsi ‘of the community I ask permission to go outside the border for forty nights’ (H-149-ADD.19b5 [Thomas, 1954:737]); yaṣṣūcañ lareṃ śauly ñi yaṣyeṃträ ‘the beggars will beg my dear life’ (78a1); soy śano makce ṣpä yaṣṣāte-ñ ‘son, wife, even myself, has he begged from me’ (95a1), Upanande cewmeṃ kampās yaṣāte sū mā wsā-ne ‘U. begged of him his robe; he did not give it to him’ (337a4/5). +∎The primary etymological datum here is the perfect semantic and morphological equation of B yāsk- ‘beg, entreat’ (with -sk- extended from the present throughout the paradigm [cf. nāsk-, pāsk-, etc.]) and Avestan yās- ‘beg, entreat’ (with -s- [< *-sḱ-] similarly extended). Avestan yās-, in turn, is the equivalent of Sanskrit yā- ‘beg, entreat’ both semantically and syntactically (both Sanskrit and Avestan verbs take a double accusative; see Insler, 1975:116) (P:503; MA:33). Thus Avestan yās- and TchB yāsk- must be from *yeh_a-sḱ- rather than from *yōk-sḱ- (VW, 1941:165-6, 1976:589) or *yh̥_ak-sḱ- (Hilmarsson, 1986a:11) and connected by them with Sanskrit yācati ‘ask, solicit, demand.’ Both Pokorny (503-504) and Mayrhofer (1976:14-15) agree that yāc- is not to be connected to yā-. +See also yaṣṣūca and yāṣṣu. +

+ + +
+

+yāstaci +(n.) +‘juniper’ (probably Juniperus excelsa Bieb.) or ‘bird cherry’ (Prunus puddum Roxb. ex Wall.)?
+[yāstaci, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients: (500a5). +‣See Maue (1990) for a discussion of this word. He opts, on what seem to me slender grounds, for ‘juniper’ rather than ‘bird cherry.’ +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+yäk- +(vt.) +‘neglect, be careless about’
+Ps. X /yäknāsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, yäknāstär//]; Ko. VI /yäknā- [MP //-, -, yäknāntär]; PP /yäko-/ +[mā yä]knāsträ tu postäṃ krentauna ‘he is not careless [about] virtues’ (12a6); śarwarets ykoṣäṃts = BHS uddhatānāṃ pramattānāṃ (305a7). +∎Etymology uncertain. AB yäk- reflect PTch *yäk- and I think it likely that we have a derivative of PIE *h₁eg- ‘lack’ [: Latin egeō ‘am lacking, suffer want,’ egestās (f.) ‘lack,’ egēnus ‘lacking,’ Old Norse ekla ‘lack,’ ekla (adv.) ‘scarcely,’ OHG ekorōdo ‘only’ (P:290; MA:343)]. In the Tocharian word we would have the transitive verb corresponding to the intransitive of Latin and Germanic. Less likely but still a possibility is VW's suggestion (590) of a relationship with PIE *h₁eig^h-, an élargissement of *h₁ei- ‘go’ [: Greek oíkhomai ‘go, depart; be undone, be lost, ruined,’ oikhnéō ‘come, go; be gone; approach,’ possibly íkhnos ‘footprint, trace,’ Armenian iǰanem ‘come, climb up,’ Lithuanian eigà ‘way, course, progress,’ Old Irish óegi ‘guest’ (<*h₁oig^hēt-) (P:296)]. VW assumes a "thème II" *h₁yeg^h- here but it is not necessary since a zero-grade *h₁ig^h- would do the trick and a zero-grade *h₁ig^h-neh_a- would be expected anyway. The n-stem parallels in Greek and Armenian are attractive but the semantic difficulties are great. *h₁eig^h- appears to mean ‘go’ tout simple (as it does in the one certain instance where it occurs in Tocharian, in the suppletive preterite participle, yku-, to i- ‘go’). VW assumes a causative ‘let go’ > ‘be negligent’ which is a possibility semantically but not paralleled elsewhere. +See also ykorñe and possibly yekte-. +

+ + +
+

+yäkte- +‘little, small’ [only as the first member of compounds]
+‣I take this to be the unstressed variant (which might be restressed under certain circumstances) of yekte-, identical in meaning. See also yekte. + -- yakt-āñm ‘± feebleness/thinness’ (?) [‘cowardice’ Couvreur, 1954d:105; ‘inferiority’ Thomas, 1983:251]: menkitse tesa pkārsa-ñ yakt-āñm ñi ‘by this lack, recognize my feebleness’ (99b3), kosi [] yäkt-āñmä ... sāṃtke ‘[it is] the remedy for cough and feebleness/thinness’ (497a6); +
+yäkte-aiśamñetse ‘dull-witted’: yakte-ai[śamñetste] = BHS durmedhas- (H-149-ADD.105a8 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:488]); +
+yäkte-perne ‘of little worth or fortune’: yäkte-pernentse = BHS alpalakṣme (531a1); +
+yäkte-yarm ‘a little merely; short [of time]’: [yä]kte-yarm = BHS alpamātra- (51a7); +
+yäkte-weśeññai ‘with little noise, without talking’ (321a4); +
+yäkte-skeyeṃ ‘with little effort’ (21b6); +
+yakte-swāralñe ‘not very tasty’: yakte-swāralñe = BHS alpāsvāda- (H-149-ADD.105b2 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:488]). +

+ + +
+

+-yäkre +See ṣparā-yäkre. +

+ + +
+

+yäkraiti +See ikrai-. +

+ + +
+

+yäkwaṣke* +(n.) +‘little horse’
+[//-, -, yäkwaṣkaṃ] +kokalyiśkaṃ yäkwaṣkaṃ /// ‘little wagons and little horses’ (352a2). +∎A diminutive of yakwe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yäkweññe +See yakwe. +

+ + +
+

+yäkṣiye ~ yikṣiye +(nf.) +‘flour, meal’
+[yäkṣiye, -, -//] +amokces yikṣye piś ṣankäṃ ‘for the artisans 5 ṣanks flour’ (434a3), ypiya yäkṣiye ‘barley flour’ (P-1a6), ysārña yäkṣīye ‘wheaten flour’ (W-37b1). +∎A derivative of yäks-, q.v. +See also yakso. +

+ + +
+

+yäks- +(vt.) +‘embrace, entangle’
+Ps. VI /yäksnā-/ [MP -, -, yäksanatär//]; PP /yäkso-/ +te keklyauṣormeṃ Candramukhe walo ṣecakecce asāṃmeṃ ñor klāya Araṇemiñ lānte paine yäksau pälwāmane weṣṣäṃ ñäkte-yok saswa ‘hearing this king C. fell down from his lion throne, embraced the feet of king A. and says, bewailing: O divine lord!’ (93a5+PK-NS-36+20a3 [Thomas, 1983:246]), /// [tä]ṅwsā yäksau prākre (283a4), /// pilkosa yäksau ramtä tāka täne se klainantsä ‘mit einem ... Blick gleichsam umfasst wurde hier dieser von den [seitens der] Frauen’ (PK-12K-b2 [Thomas, 1979:14]). +‣The more abundant TchA attestations supplement those of B and make it clear that we have ‘embrace [of lovers]’ or, less frequently, ‘entangle’ (as lianas may entangle the feet). The obvious derivatives yäkṣīye and yakso ‘meal, flour’ suggest that it may have meant ‘squeeze, press (as by a millstone)’ as well. It may be, since deverbative nouns in -iye are typically formed to Class IV subjunctives (e.g. lalyiye, akalye, and yṣiye, qq.v.), that yäkṣiye is derived from a second, otherwise unattested yäks- ‘grind, mill’ that was synchronically distinct but etymologically related to attested yäks- ‘embrace, entangle.’ +∎Etymology uncertain. AB yäks(n)ā- reflect PTch *yäks(n)ā- ‘± crush, squeeze.’ Extra-Tocharian connections are unknown. Sanskrit -yakṣati looks phonologically appealing but is disqualified on semantic grounds as it means ‘± appear’ (cf. Yaghnobi yaxš- ‘appear,’ Mayrhofer, 1976:1, with literature). No other Indo-European root of the requisite shape (*yeK- or possibly *yaK-) can be reconstructed with any meaning similar to that of yäks- either (superseded is Adams, 1989b:8-10). It is at least likely that -yäkre (s.v. ṣparā-yäkre) belongs here. In any case, not with VW (590-1) to be compared with Greek piézō as, contra VW, it would appear that forms like piésai are original and piéksai analogical (cf. the forms of paízō ‘play’ from paid-). Only the former are to be found in Homer. +See also yäkṣiye, yeksnar and aiksnar, and possibly -yäkre. +

+ + +
+

+yät- +(vt.) +‘decorate, adorn’
+Ps. IX /yätäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP // -, -, yatäskentär; MPImpf. -, - yatäṣṣitär//]; Ko. IX (= Ps.) [Inf. yatästsi]; Pt. Ia /yātā-/ [MP yātamai, -, -//]; PP /yeyäto-/ +ce_u prekene Nande ñem ... kektseññeṣṣai olypotse tetrenku yatäṣṣitär-ne sonopitär līkṣītär wästsanma krenta yäṣṣītär ‘at that time Nanda by name was completely attached to [the things] of the body; he would adorn himself, anoint himself, bathe and wear fine clothes’ (A-1a5); yatästsy aunantär-ne ‘they begin to adorn him’ (118b2); lantuññeṣṣeṃ yet[w]entsa yātamai-ne kektse[ñ] ‘with royal jewels have I decorated his body’ (PK-17.6a6 [Couvreur, 1954c:89]); yetweṃtsa yaitu ‘decorated with adornments’ (372a2). + -- yaitor: /// yaitor wawlawar (134b5), /// ra śabdhsa yaitor apaśabdh no mā weñ[i] (134b6). +∎AB yät- is from PIE *yet- seen in Sanskrit yátate ‘puts oneself in the right or natural place,’ Av. yat- ‘id.,’ Serbo-Croatian jatiti (= Sanskrit yātaya-) ‘gather’ (cf. Toporov, 1968:110-111, also P:506-507; MA:472). The Tocharian meaning comes from *‘± put into the right place’ (cf. Latin ōrnāre ‘to adorn’ from *ōrdināre ). Sogdian shows the same semantic development when prefixed in py’t- ‘adorn.’ It is not necessary, or even likely, that the Tocharian is somehow borrowed from Sogdian (so VW:645). +See also yetwe and, more distantly, yāt-. +

+ + +
+

+yäp- +(vi.) +G ‘enter’ [N+ne ‘enter (in[to])’]; ‘set [of the sun]’; K ‘cause to enter’
+G Ps. X /yänmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A yänmaskau, -, yänmaṣṣäṃ// -, -, yänmaskeṃ; Ger. yänmaṣṣälle]; Ps. VI /yänmā-/ (see abstract); Ko. I /yäp- ~ yop-/ [A yopu, -, yopäṃ//; AOpt. yapim, yapit, -//; Inf. yaptsi]; Ipv III /p(ä)yop-/ [ASg. pyop; APl. pyopäs]; Pt. IIIa /yops-/ [A -, -, yopsa//-, -, yopar]; PP /yeyäpo-/; +
+K Ps. IX /yäpäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, yapäṣṣäṃ//; MP -, -, yapästär//; Ger. yapäṣṣälle] +tumeṃ yänmaṣṣäṃ Priyaśāriṇi pla[ktukäṃña] ‘then enters the door-keeper P.’ (516a1), emalyesa tsetsarkoṣ memyoṣ yokaisa | kroścaṃ [sic] warś ce_u yolmene yänmaskeṃ ‘parched by heat, confused by thirst, they enter into the pond with cool water’ (29a6); mā kauc wasi [mu]sau osne yänmaṣälle ‘one [is] not to enter a house with clothes held high’ (322a1/2); yent=enenka yopäṃ-ne ‘[if] the wind enters within’ (41b3), yapit wat no wertsyaine ‘thou mayest enter in the retinue’ (246a2), kauṃ-yaptsi täṅtsi ‘until sunset’ (PK-AS-18B-a1 [Pinault, 1984b]); pyop tīrtheṣṣai wertsyaine ‘enter in the company of the tīrthas!’ (16b2); śaulasw Ānande yopsa rīne tā_u pintwāto ‘the worthy Ānanda entered in the city begging’ (23b3), maitar yopar warttone ‘they went and entered in the woods’ (107a7); pilkontaṣṣana yaipoṣ so[piṃne] ‘having entered into the nets of insights’ (29b5); [ja]s ja mäntalle [] a tane yapäṣṣä[ṃ] ‘[in] jas the ja [is] to be struck; a then [is] to be entered [in its stead]’ [concerning the correction of spelling in a word] (551b1); /// yapästär pāyti (328a4). +‣Perhaps because of its homophony with the subjunctive of yäm-, q.v., the present yänmā-, presupposed by the abstract, was replaced by the attested yänmäsk^'ä/_e-. + -- yaipormeṃ: yaipormeṃ = BHS praviśya (H-149.236a3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:496]), kaunantse yaipormeṃ ‘from the going down of the sun’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Winter, 1988:788]); +
+ -yänmālñe, only in the compound kauṃ-yänmālñe ‘sunset’: koṃ-yänmālle [sic] (PK-NS-49b2 [Winter, 1988:788]), kauṃ-yänmālle (-b3). +
+yäpäṣṣeñca: ipäṣṣeñcana pelaiknenta = BHS pātayantikā dharmāḥ (H-149.X.5a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), omte se yarm | pärkarñesa wi rsoñc pañäktentse rasosa pkantesa śle ywārc ñrets raso tumeṃ oṃṣap yāmträ ipäṣṣeñca ‘here is the measure: in length two spans (of Buddha spans); crosswise, one and a half and the fringe [another] span; [if] then one makes more: one [has] entered [into sin]’ (TEB-66-24). +∎TchA yäw- and B yäp- reflect PTch yäp- (though at least the preterite participle yaiwu in A shows the influence of B [VW:605]). PTch *yäp- is from PIE *yeb^h- ‘go, enter (into)’ seen in Luvian iba- ‘west’ (for a discussion of the latter word, and different conclusions, see Puhvel, 1984:375-377) < *ib^ho- and Greek zóphos ‘dusk, gloom, (north)west,’ and zéphuros ‘(north)west [wind]’ (< *yob^h- and *yeb^h- respectively). For the semantic development of Luvian iba- one should compare Greek dúsis ‘west’ from dúō ‘get, get into’ and the Tocharian B kauṃ yäp- ‘set [of sun]’). The Tocharian and Hittite words are to be connected with *yeb^h- ‘futuere’ [: Greek oíphō (< *o- + ib^h-), Sanskrit yábhati, OCS jebǫ (P:298; 508)], the meaning ‘futuere’ coming from ‘penetrate’ (Winter, 1998:349). The connection with yábhati is VW's (1941) but later (1976:605) he suggests a phonetically impossible development from a PIE *(e)ieu-. +See also yenme and possibly aip-. +

+ + +
+

+yäm- +(vt.) +‘achieve, obtain; reach’
+G Ps. X /yänmāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A yänmāskau, -, yänmāṣṣäṃ//; APart. yänmāṣṣeñca ‘achiever’; MPPart. yänmāskemane; Ger. yänmāṣṣälye*]; ¹Ko. I /yonm-/ [A -, -, yonmäṃ//]; ²Ko. VI /yänmā-/ [A -, -, yanmaṃ//-, yänmācer, -; MP //-, -, yänmāntär; AOpt. -, -, yanmoy//; Inf. yänmātsi]; Pt. IIIa /yonm-/ [A yonmwa, yonmasta, yonmasa//]; PP /yeyänmu-/; +
+K Ko. IX /yänmäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. yanmäs(t)si] +mā ktsaitsäññe yänmāṣṣäṃ ‘he does not attain old-age’ (5b1), yänmāṣṣäṃ = BHS prāpnoti (H-149.236b2 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:496]), ompalskoññe yänmāṣṣäṃ = BHS samādhim adhigacchati (H-149.112a3 [Thomas, 1969:298]); pañäkte-käṣṣintse palsko yänmāṣṣeñca mäsketrä ‘he becomes the achiever of the spirit of a Buddha-teacher’ (558b2/3); /// platkye amokceṃ yonmäṃ (432a2); su no cwi speltkesa srukalyñe yaṃnmaṃ ‘he will, however, achieve [his own] death by his zeal’ (333a4/5), po wäntarwa yänmānträ ‘they will obtain all things’ (409b5), yänmoy īke kesoṣä = BHS adhigacchat padaṃ śāntam (H-149-ADD.124b6 [Thomas, 1969:298]), /// onuwaññe yänmātsiś ce wace ślok ‘this second śloka [is] to achieve immortality’ (30a5); yonwā ñäś ce śāmñe cämel taññe ṣärmtsa ‘I achieved this human birth because of thee’ (365b5), [yāmor yāmṣa]sta wrocce palsko yonmasta ‘thou didst a deed, thou didst achieve [thy] purpose’ (22b2), yonmasa = BHS adhyagāt (29a3); yainmwa kre[ntaunasa] ‘through the virtues [already] achieved’ (67b7); [sä]rmana skāyas yanmässi (377a5). + -- yänmālyñe ‘achievement’: yinmālñe[sa wat] = BHS prāptyā vā (193b7), śamñe cmeltse yänmalyñe ‘the achievement of human birth’ (295b5). +∎TchA yom- (with generalization of the vowel found originally only in the preterite) and B yäm- reflect PTch *yäm- but extra-Tocharian cognates are uncertain. It may be from PIE *yem- seen also in Indo-Iranian, e.g. Sanskrit yam- ‘hold, sustain, offer, grant, etc.’ (VW, 1941:171, Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:150, Mayrhofer, 1976:2-3 [P:505 with some further, more dubious, cognates; MA:270-271]). Semantically the Tocharian can be seen as *‘come to hold’ or the like. It is possible that an ō-grade iterative-intensive of the same root is to be found in yām- ‘do,’ q.v. For yäm- Jasanoff's connection (1978:32) with Latin emere ‘take’ is also possible but less likely. To be rejected is VW's later connection (1976:604) with *h₁ei- ‘go.’ A comparison with TchA suggests a PTch paradigm with a present *yämnā- (> B yänmā- relegated to the subjunctive by a new iterative-intensive *yämnā-sk-), subjunctive *yom- ~ *yäm- (see in the TchB subjunctive yonmäṃ with -n - introduced from the present), preterite *yom(sā)- (cf. TchA third plural yomär, again TchB has -n- introduced from the present). +See also possibly yām-. +

+ + +
+

+yärkemaññe* +(n.) +‘sanctuary, stūpa’ (perhaps more generally, ‘any object of reverence’)
+[-, -, yärkemaññe//] +yärk[e]maññ[ene] = BHS caitye [cf. Couvreur, 1968:277] (527b1). +∎A compound of yarke ‘honor’ and -maññe ‘(dwelling) place’, qq.v. +For the formation, compare taupemaññe, wasaṃpātmaññe and winamāññe (cf. Couvreur, 1968:277). +

+ + +
+

+yärtt- +(vt.) +‘pull, drag along (with violence)’
+Ps. I/II /yärtt(^'ä/_e)-/ [A //-, -, yartteṃ; MPPart. yärta/emane]; Pt. Ia yärttā-/ [A -, -, yartta//]; PP /yärtto-/ +[ya]k no cwi soṃśke lalaṃṣkeṃ aināki caimp brā[hmaṇi yä]rt[t]en-ne śle tremeṃ ‘still though these common brahmans dragged his dear son with anger’ (88a5/6); tumeṃ brāhmaṇi Uttareṃ mñcuṣkeṃ antapi pokainesa yärtt[e/a]mane ‘then the brahmans dragging prince Uttara with both arms’ (85b2=PK-NS-355b2 [Thomas, 1983:240]); tane ... Utta[reṃ mñcu]ṣkeṃ enkormeṃ tsakatsai keṃtsa orkäntai yärtta-ne ‘then [Rudraśarma], seizing prince Uttara, dragged him back and forth over the thorny ground’ (88a3/4); enkalñentse ṣarmtsa ywārc yärtoṣ lk[ā]ntär wertsyaṃne ‘because of attachment [to the world] they appear to have been half pulled into the crowds’ (PK-AS-16.2a4 [Pinault, 1989]). +∎TchA yärt- and B yärtt- reflect PTch *yärtt- which is probably, with VW (594-5, though details differ) to be equated with Greek erékhthō ‘break, rend, toss to and fro.’ In both Greek and Tocharian we have *h₁erh₁K- + -d^he/o-. +

+ + +
+

+yärp- +(vt.) +‘oversee, observe, take care of’
+Ps. VIII /yärps^'ä/_e-/ (see yirpṣuki); Ko. II /yärp^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. yärpalle]; Ipv. III [APl. pirpso]; Pt. IIIa /yerp-/ [A -, -, yerpsa//] +yärpall=ents=ore [word separation unsure] ra ṣe āken-ne (119b4); [c]e yap Cak[u]le yerpsa [open space] Cakulentse kapci ‘This millet Cakule has taken care of. The thumbprint of C.’ (462a6). +∎From PIE *wer-b^(h)-, an élargissement of *wer- ‘observe, pay attention to’ [: Latin vereor ‘honor, fear,’ Greek (Hesychius) hórei = psulássei, horáō ‘see,’ Latvian véru ‘look at’ and nominal derivatives in Germanic such as English (a-/be-)ware (P:1164)]. Particularly one should compare Old Prussian warbo in the phrase warbo thi Dewes ‘Behut dich Gott’ (‘may God protect thee’). This warbo is the third person singular of a stem varbā- ‘protect’ (for the Old Prussian, see Schmalstieg, 1976:410) (MA:417). VW's explanation (593-594) is similar, though he starts from a phonologically impossible *wer-w-, with a w-extension not otherwise found with this root). +See also yarpo (if not from wärp-), yärparwa, yirpṣuki, and airpätte and, more distantly, wär-sk- and possibly wärp- and wär-. +

+ + +
+

+yärparwa* +(n.[pl.]) +‘± observation-posts’ (?)
+[//-, -, yärparwa] +cai watesa kwaṣaiś päst kameṃ ostūwa yärparwa tsaikānte ‘for the second time they came back to the village; they built houses and observation-posts [?]’ (PK-16.3a6 [Couvreur, 1954c:88, Pinault, 1989]). +∎A derivative of yärp-. Not, with Isebaert (1978a:101) a reflex of PIE *werw- ‘cover, envelope.’ For the meaning, see VW (1978:350). +

+ + +
+

+yärper +(n.) +‘Withania somnifera Dunal’ or ‘Ocimum sanctum Linn.’ (?) (a medical ingredient)
+[yärper, -, -//] +(W-6a5, W-30b3). +∎Equated with BHS puṇyā- ‘holy basil’ by Filliozat on the basis of his supposition (quite possibly correct) that yärper is a derivative of yarpo ‘service’ just as puṇyā- is a derivative of puṇya-. If the basic etymological connection is correct, perhaps we have rather a derivation from yärp-, i.e. yärp- + -wer (the latter as in malkwer ‘milk,’ q.v.). +

+ + +
+

+yärmassu +See yarm. +

+ + +
+

+yärs- +(vi.) +‘be deferential, respectful’ [N-śc ‘be deferential/ respectful toward, honor, revere, treat with deference’]
+Ps. II /yärs^'ä/_e-/ [MP yärsemar, -, yarṣtär//yirsemtär, -, -; MPPart. yärsemane]; Pt. Ia /yärṣā-/ [MP //-, -, yirṣānte] +[añcā]l yāmu yarṣtär (405b5); tumeṃ cey wi omprotärcci Kāśyapi ... käṣṣiñiś kekamoṣ yirṣānte ‘then these two bebrothered Kāśyapas, having come to the teacher, honored [him]’ (108a8). +‣Always in the middle (‘mit innerer Beteiligung [Verehrung, Scheu, Liebe, o. ä.] sprechen’ [K. T. Schmidt, 1980:407]). + -- yärṣalñe ‘honor, reverence’: aśari-käṣṣiñiś ... ysomo sānk yirṣalñe maskeṃntär [lege: yamaskentär] ‘the community, all together, addresses with deference the ācārya master’ (DAM.507a1 [Pinault, 1984a]), yärṣalñe yamasträ ‘he addresses deferentially’ (TEB-74-1). +∎AB yärs- reflects PTch *yärs- from PIE *h₁erh_as- [: Greek éramai, eráō ‘love’ (Frisk, 1960:547)]. Though they may be independent developments, Greek eráō and Tocharian yärs^'ä/_e- are exact formal equivalents (denominatives of an s-stem *h₁erh_a-s-, cf. Greek érōs). Semantically they have in common the notion of being well-disposed towards another person, a meaning Greek has developed to the more specific one of ‘love,’ particularly ‘love sexually’ (M-W:197). This correct connection appears in VW (1941) but is later implicitly rejected in favor of a connection with *wer- ‘pay attention to’ (1976:594) that would, inter alia, require TchA yärs- to be a borrowing from B yärs-. +

+ + +
+

+yälloñ +(n.[pl.]) +‘sense-functions’
+[//yälloñ, yälloṃts, yälloṃ] +ykāṃṣälñe ṣek warästrä ṣ[e]k imassu wawlāwau po ṣkas yälloṃ ‘always he practices abstinence/ continence [ykāṃṣälñe = BHS aśubha-], always mindful, governing all six senses’ (8b7), ṣkas yälloñ = BHS ṣadāyatana- (156b2). + -- yällo(ṃ)ṣṣe ‘prtng to the sense-functions’: colaṃ yakweṃ yälloṣṣe yātäṣṣīmar ‘may I tame the wild horses of the senses’ (S-5a4). +∎Probably, as tentatively proposed by VW (591), we should connect this word with PIE *wel- ‘see’ (P:1136-7) and, therefore, with TchB yel-, q.v. Semantically less likely is Isebaert's suggestion (1978a:100) that we have here a derivative of i- ‘go,’ more particularly a derivative of its gerund yalye ‘accessible,’ i.e. ‘the domain [of the senses].’ +See also yel-. +

+ + +
+

+yäs- +(vt.) +G ‘excite sexually; ravish’; ¹K ‘(over-)excite [someone]’; N+ne ‘± strive (sexually) for, have intercourse with’; ²K ‘(over-)excite [someone]’ (in malam partem)
+G Ps. II /yäs^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, yaṣtär//-, -, ysentär]; +
+¹K Ko. Xa /yäsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. ysas(t)si]; Pt. Ia /yāsā-/ [MP -, -, yasāte//]; +
+²K Ps. IX /yāsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, yāsäṣṣäṃ//]; PP /yāyāsā-/ +ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne t[u prā]rontsa yaṣtär ... [krāke] läṃ-nne ... kr_ui mā krāke läṃ-nne koss ttu māka prāroṃntsa ceśaṃ [sic] ‘[if] desires arise in the mind of a monk and his shame-place stands tall; he excites it with [his] fingers and ... filth emerges ... if no filth emerges no matter now much he touches it with [his] fingers’ [here exciting one's membrum virile to orgasm (with yäs-) is explicitly opposed to touching that does not result in orgasm (with täk-)] (334a7-b1); /// protärñts śnona ysentär ṣera tkātärñ /// ‘the wives of brothers were ravished, sisters and daughters...’ (2b7); päknāträ klaiṃ ekalmi yāmtsi taine ysissi yoñyeṣṣe to pwarne hom yamaṣäle ‘[if] one intends to make submit a woman, to touch sexually her groin, a pubic hair [is] to be put in the fire [as] a sacrifice’ (M-1b6); [tā]wn[e] yasāte ‘he had his way with her’ [?] (366b3); ṣarm okone tserenträ [su t]n[e w]n[o]lm[eṃ] yāsäṣṣäṃ kātkästär-me ‘in cause and effect it [scil. the kleśa-thirst] tricks men here; it excites them and gladdens them’ (11b2); yayāsaṣ palskosa ‘excited by the spirit’ or ‘with excited spirit’ (325b3). +‣The "first causative" here is the exact formal equivalent of TchA ysäs-, attested once in the phrase wär ysäṣ ‘he boils water.’ Perhaps this form also means ‘boil’ (tr.) in TchB as well. The meaning of this form, when combined with a locative noun should be compared to the cognate Sanskrit yas- + dative ‘strive after.’ The form of the "second causative" (with a long root vowel) is like that of naittäsk- ‘break, cause the collapse of’ to the Grundverb nitt-, q.v. The preterite participle goes with the second rather than the first causative because of its apparent meaning. +∎AB yäs- reflects PTch *yäs- from PIE *yes- ‘boil, seethe, etc.’ [: Sanskrit yásyati ‘froths up, foams; strives after,’ Avestan yaēšyeiti ‘boils (intr.),’ āyāsayaiti ‘strain, tire, torment,’ Greek zéō ‘boil, seethe (tr./intr.),’ OHG jesan ‘ferment, effervesce, foam,’ plus nominal cognates in Celtic (P:506; MA:77) and possibly Hittite (Puhvel, 1984:384)]--thus Schneider (1940:198) and VW (1941:168, 1976:595) for A yäs- and B yās-. VW unwisely separates B yäs- (also pg. 595) and derives it from PIE *h₂wes- ‘spend the night.’ +See also yāso and possibly yasoñña and yase. +

+ + +
+

+yäsk- +(vt.) +‘± sully’ (?)
+Ps. II /yäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, yaṣtär//] +[śault]s[a] wärññai yäṣträ ma nrai[ṣṣana wäntarwasa] [the suggestion for filling the latter lacuna is entirely my own] ‘all [his] life long he does not sully himself with hellish things’ (143a3) [if this does not belong with yäs-]. +∎Perhaps this yäsk- reflects the same PIE *h₄isg^h- seen in Hittite iskuna(hh)- ‘stain; stigmatize, denounce; degrade, disgrace’ and iskunant- ‘stained,’ the zero-grade of *h₄eisg^h- seen in Greek aiskhūnō ‘make ugly, disfigure, dishonor,’ aiskhūnē (f.) ‘shame, dishonor,’ and aiskhrós ‘ugly, deformed, dishonoring, shameful’ (unless the Greek too represents a zero-grade with "breaking" of *-i- after *h₄- as presumed by some). For the Greek and Hittite, see Puhvel, 1984:426-428. +See also aiskatstse. +

+ + +
+

+yäst- +(vt.) +‘hurl down’
+Pt. Ia /yästā-/ [A //-, -, yästār(e)] +[ke]k[ts]eñ yasnā/// [lege: yastā[re]] ‘sie stürzen den Körper herab’ [Thomas, 1983:224] (56b6), [pä]lsknāllentaṃts yäsnā/// [lege: yästā///] (147.4b2), yästāräk tā kercyenmeṃ ‘they hurled her down from the palace’ (394b2). +∎A denominative from yast, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yäst +See yast. +

+ + +
+

+yästār +See wasto. +

+ + +
+

+yirpāṣka* +(n.) +See Yurpāṣka. +

+ + +
+

+yirpo(-)e +‘?’
+/// l( ̇)empa tasemane cce sanghālambaṃ yirpo ̇e/// (361a4). +

+ + +
+

+yirpṣuki* +(n.) +‘± inspector’
+[-, -, yirpṣuki//] +yirpṣuki Putteyānentse kapci ‘thumbmark of inspector P.’ [lit: ‘the inspector; the thumbmark of P.’] (460a2). +∎A nomen agentis from yärp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yirmakka* +(n.) +‘± treasurer’ (lit: ‘measurer’)
+[-, -, yirmakkai//] +yirmakkai Wilāsiñintse ka[pci] ‘the thumbprint of treasurer W.’ [lit: ‘treasurer W; [his] thumbprint’] (460a5). +∎A derivative of yarm, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Yiṣwe +(n.) +‘Jesus’ (PN)
+[Yiṣwe, -, -//] [in Manichean script] +yyšw’yy (Gabain/Winter, 1959:39). +

+ + +
+

+yu- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘tend (naturally) to; ripen (intr.), mature’; K ‘ripen (tr.)’
+G Ps. I /yu-/ [MPPart. yumāne]; Ko. V /yāwā-/ [AOpt. //-, -, yāwoṃ]; PP /yuwo-/; +
+K Ps. IX /yuwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, yuwäst ~ yust, yuwäṣṣäṃ//-, -, yuwäskeṃ; MP -, -, yuwästär//] +se ekantse yumāne n[esaṃñe] ‘the natural ability of the eye’ [= BHS dṛṣṭaṃ] (195b6), [allek] yumāne [nesa]lñe ste ‘otherwise is the situation of him who is maturing’ (197a6), y[u]mane takāsta [= BHS anvābhuṃkthā, deriv. of anu-bhuj- ‘suffer the consequences of one's actions, enjoy successively, enjoy, participate’] (251a2); ///p c[e]y yāwoṃ (593a2); ///wäṅe - no nwau yän pūdñakte ywau/// (342b7); ñī wes wā tnai [lege: nnai] [tne yolai]ñ mākā yekte perni yust-me wā tnai [lege: nnai] tallāñciśkaṃ mā west-meścä (273b2/3), cmelaśc yuwäskeṃ ‘they ripen/ mature to births’ [= BHS pariṇāmaya-] (K-2a6); skwänmaṣcä śaiṣṣe māka yuwästrä (255a1). +∎In TchB yu- we seem to have a semantic equivalent to Greek tréphō ‘thicken or congeal (of milk); bring up, rear (of children)’ < *‘± bring to its natural end’ (see Benveniste [1954]). Taking the meaning ‘ripen’ as being more original, we see in it a PIE *yeu- the verb underlying the widespread word for ‘grain or barley,’ *yewo- (see further s.v. yap) (MA:236). Otherwise Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:149) who takes this word to reflect PIE *yeu- ‘unite’ or VW (610) who takes the word to be from *w(e)i- + -w-. Not related to TchA yu- (Ps. y(u)wa-) ‘turn toward’ which is rather related to B aiw-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yuk- +(vt.) +‘overcome, conquer; surpass’
+Ps. VIII /yuks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, yukṣäṃ//-, -, yukseṃ; AImpf. -, -, yukṣi//; APart. yukṣeñca]; Ko. V /yukā-/ [A //-, -, yukaṃ; MPOpt. yukoym, -, -//]; Pt. Ia /yukā-/ [A -, -, yuka//]; PP /yuko-/ +su ce_u yukṣäṃ yarpos=aurce meñe śiriṃ ra ‘he overcomes/ surpasses it with wide service as the moon [does] the stars’ (290a3), nautaṃ-me perne tumeṃ yukseṃ ce_u aly[ai]k ‘their honor disappears; thereupon others overcome such’ (22a4); Wikṣṇu nest [t]we poyśiññeṣṣe po yukṣeñcai ‘thou art the all-knowing Viṣṇu, conquerer of everything’ (214b3/4); Mār lānt yūkoym snai lyīpär ‘may I conquer king Māra completely [lit: without anything remaining]’ (AMB-a2); /// [ont]soyñe yukā-ne alyenk camel pälkormeṃ ‘having seen another birth he conquered his insatiability’ (346a4); po kleśanma yaikoṣ yukoṣ śtwer M[a]räṃ ‘having driven off all kleśas, having overcome the four Māras’ (30b2). + -- yukormeṃ; +
+yūkalñe ‘overcoming, conquest’ (127b4); +
+yukalñeṣṣe* ‘prtng to overcoming or conquest’ (591b3). +∎AB yuk- reflect PTch *yuk- from PIE *yeuǵ- ‘stir up, incite; be unquiet’ [: Avestan yaozaiti ‘stirs oneself up,’ Armenian yuzem ‘incites’ (< Iranian), Gothic jiukan ‘fight, struggle,’ OHG jouchan ‘drive, hunt’ (P:512; MA:547)] (Holthausen, 1934, VW:611). +See also yukāntaṣṣe*. +

+ + +
+

+yukāntaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: //-, -, yukāntaṣṣeṃ] +yukāntaṣṣeṃ pwāra rämt ‘like the yukānta-fires’ (an unpub. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1968b:205]). +∎Perhaps a derivative of *yukānta ‘conquerer’ (?) (if from yuk-). +

+ + +
+

+yukti +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘adaptation, adjustment’
+[yukti, -, -//] +(197a3). +∎From BHS yukti-. +

+ + +
+

+yugarājiññe +(adj.) +‘prtng to Yugarāja’
+(600b2). +∎A derivative of Yugarāje, q.v. (A variant of the expected *yugarājäññe). +See Yugarāje. +

+ + +
+

+Yugarāje +(n.) +‘Yugarāja’ (PN)
+[Yugarāje, -, Yugarājeṃ//] +(345b4). +See also yugarājiññe. +

+ + +
+

+Yugavārg +(n.) +‘Yugavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Yugavārg//] +(S-6b5). +

+ + +
+

+Yudhiṣṭhīre +(n.) +‘Yudhiṣṭhīra’ (PN of a king)
+[Yudhiṣṭhīre, -, -//] +(133b2). +

+ + +
+

+yurettsaññe +(adj.) +?
+[yurettsaññe, -, -//] +k_uce ñake [] yurettsaññe yotkolau ṣamāne [] parra yaṃ caumpa kapyāri wi ‘that now the supervisor monk from Y. go through; with him two workers’ (LP-10a3), yurettsaññets [the address on the reverse side of a caravan-pass] ‘to those of Y.’ (?) (LP-10b1), [yure]tsaiññe moko (LP-95a2). +‣Probably an adjective of origin, but just possibly a title. +

+ + +
+

+Yurpāṣka* +(n.) +‘Yurpāṣka’ (PN of a place)
+[-, -, Yurpāṣkai//] +wi śāmna Yurpaṣkaine lyewetär ṣe Waśaṣpile ñem ‘he sends two people to Y, one was W. [by] name’ (LP-3a3), cowä preke Yurpāṣkai sankrāmne mäskeñca ‘at that time, finding himself in the Y. monastery’ (Pinault, 1986:79), Yirpāṣkaine [if this belongs here] (LP-44a2). +

+ + +
+

+yurṣaiññe +(adj.) +‘prtng to Yurṣa’ (name of a monastery?)
+[m:-, -, yurṣaiññe//] +ce postak yurṣaiññe (103b3), yurṣaiññe sanka[rāmne] /// (104b6). +

+ + +
+

+yulyaiññe* +(adj.) +‘± rare’
+[f: yulyaiñña, -, -//] +koylya māñya yulyaiñña waimen=āñu källātsi ‘a diligent maid is rare [to find] and peace is difficult to find’ [Thomas, 1954:744] (127b5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+yulyke* +(adj.) +‘± clever, crafty, cunning’
+[f: yulyka, -, -//] +(Isebaert [1980]). +∎Isebaert suggests a PIE preform of the shape *we-wl-eko- a reduplicated derivative of *wel- ‘turn, twist’ (P:1140ff). +See More s.v. wäl-. +

+ + +
+

+yuṣ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘soup’
+[yuṣ, -, -//] +plyenkwātse yuṣ śwalle ‘a plyenkwātse soup [is] to be eaten’ (P-1b4). +∎From BHS yūṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+yuṣe* +(adj.) +‘squinting, dull [of senses]’
+[f: //yuṣona, -, -] +mā wätkātsana yuṣona yndrinta mäskentär-me ‘undistinguished and dull/squinting senses’ (K-7b6). + -- yuṣe-yndrinta ‘with dulled senses’ (K-8a1); +
+yuṣauññe ‘± dullness of senses’ (?) (213a4). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (612) who relates it to *h₂wes- ‘dwell, spend the night.’ +

+ + +
+

+Yūṣo/a* +(n.) +‘Yūṣo/a’ (PN in caravan passes)
+[-, Yūṣaintse, Yūṣai//] +(LP-1a1). +∎Perhaps ‘Squinter’ from yuṣe, q.v. Compare Greek Strábōn from strabós. +

+ + +
+

+yekte +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘little’
+ramer ṣpä saṃsārmeṃ tsälpeträ yekte skeyentsa ‘he will quickly get free from the saṃsāra with little trouble’ (K-9b3), yekte keklyau/// = BHS alpaśruta- (U-b5). +∎Perhaps with VW (1941:169, 1976:586-7) this form is to be partially equated with Old Norse vākr ‘weak, miserable; child, weak man.’ Both the Tocharian and and Old Norse would reflect a PIE *wēg-. TchB yäkte- reflects an unstressed variant of yekte (cf. weñā- and wñā- alternative preterite forms of wesk- ‘speak’). Also possible is a connection with PIE *h₁eg- ‘lack’ (also perhaps to be seen in Tocharian yäk-). It is possible to see in yekte- a vṛddhied derivative *h₁ēgto- ‘lacking.’ +See also yäkte- and possibly yäk-. +

+ + +
+

+yeksnar +(adv.) +‘all around’
+pelaikneṣṣepi śpālmeṃ cakkarntse ṣe yeksnar ‘Von dem herrlichen Gesetzrad [sind] gleichsam der eine Radkranz ringsherum’ (30b7). +∎A derivative of yäks-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yetwe +(nm.) +‘jewel, decoration’
+[yetwe, -, -//yetwi, -, yetweṃ] +pudñäktentse kektseṃne lkāṣyeṃ cai yetweṃ lakṣānta ‘on the Buddha's body they saw these jewel[signs] and lakṣanas’ (30b1), yetwe śāsantse pelke ṣamāññe ṣotri ‘the jewel of the law, the Udāna [is] the sign of the monk’ (33a2), carka yetweṃ kektsenṣe[ṃ] ‘he rejected the adornments of the body’ (A-1b6). +∎A derivative of yät-, q.v. (TchA yetwe is borrowed from B.) +

+ + +
+

+yene +See tuwe. +

+ + +
+

+yente +(nf.) +‘wind’ (also ‘wind’ as a bodily humor)
+[yente, -, yente//yenti, yenteṃts, yenteṃ] +meleṃtsa yaipwa yenteṃ korne stamṣäṃ ‘it establishes the winds [that have] entered in the nose in the throat’ (41b5/6), prentse yente käskan-me ‘[in an] instant the wind scatters them [scil. the lightning bugs]’ (46a7=47b6), snai preke yenti tsenkenträ snai preke suwaṃ ṣpä swesi ‘unseasonably winds arise and unseasonably rains rain’ (K-8b2), yente kauṣeñca = BHS īraṇaghnaṃ (Y-2b1), yente tarkallonasa = BHS sniktoṣṇ- (Y-3b5). + -- yenteṣṣe ‘prtng to wind’ (324b3); +
+yente-leśpaṣṣe* ‘prtng to [the humors] wind and phlegm’ (Y-1a6); +
+yente-pittaṣṣe* ‘prtng to [the humors] wind and bile’ (497a5). +∎TchA want (~ wänt) and B yente reflect PTch *w'ente from PIE *h₂weh₁nto- [: Sanskrit vāta- (= vaata-), Avestan vāta-, Latin ventus, Gothic winds, Hittite hwant-, etc. (P:82-83; MA:643)] (Sieg and Siegling, 1908:927, VW:544). For a discussion of TchA wänt ‘wind,’ see Hilmarsson, 1986a:273-274. +

+ + +
+

+yentuke* +(n.) +‘Indian’
+[//-, -, yentukeṃ] +yentukeṃne masa ‘he went among the Indians’ (424b6). + -- yentukäññe ‘prtng to Indians’: tumeṃ karmapāyä weṣeñcatse tonak rekauna yentukäñe pele weṣäle [there follows a speech in Sanskrit] ‘then he who speaks the Karmavācana [is] to speak the Indian law [in] just these words’ (KVāc-18a4f. [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:764]). +∎From an Old Iranian *hinduka- [: Middle Persian of Turfan hyndwg, Modern Persian hindū, Zoroastrian Pahlevi hindūk (K. T. Schmidt, 1985:764-5)] though the phonetic details of the first syllable are still a bit obscure. +

+ + +
+

+yenme* +(n.) +‘[city-]gate, entry(way), portal’
+[-, -, yenme//yenmi, -, yenmeṃ] +aknātsa[ññeṣṣe] yenme tsyārasta ‘thou hast separated [= opened] the portal of ignorance’ (520a2), nervāṇäṣṣai rintse ñiś ... ṣarnesa ruwim yenme ‘with [my] hands may I open the portal of the Nirvana-city’ (S-6a6). +∎A derivative of yäp- ‘enter,’ more particularly of its present formation yänmäsk- where we see assimilation of the root final -p- to the following nasal -n- and then regular TchB metathesis of -mn- to -nm-. Hilmarsson's attempt (1986a:52-54) to combine yenme with TchA yokäm ‘gate, portal’ as a reflection of PTch *yekwme from PIE *ē-g^wm-o- is best left aside. +See also yenme_u. +

+ + +
+

+yenme_u +(n.) +‘gate-keeper’
+[yenme_u, -, -//] +ṣey toy aśiyana parna rīsa pruktāre tane kauṃ yenme_u cotit yamaṣṣa-me ‘The nuns were locked outside the city. Then [it was] day and the gate-keeper reproached them [sc. those nuns who had stayed out after sunset]’ (PK-AS-18B-a1/2 [Pinault, 1984b]). +‣Thomas (1987c:87) identifies the meaning of the word. +∎A derivative of yenme. +

+ + +
+

+yepe +(nm.) +‘[cutting] weapon, knife’
+[yepe, -, yepe//-, -, yepeṃ] +wetane yaṃ snai yepe ‘he goes into combat without a weapon’ (127b5), onolmi kameṃ yeweṃ kertte en[k]o[ṣ] ‘creatures came seizing knife and sword’ (347a5), cwi soye[ṃ]tse śireṃ yepesa āśe kärstālya ‘with a sharp knife the head of this doll [is] to be cut off’ (M-2a3). +∎AB yepe (A is borrowed from B) is from a PIE *wēb-en- and corresponds to PIE *wēb-no- seen in Gothic wēpn, Old Icelandic vāpn, Old English wǟpn, etc., all ‘weapon’ (VW, 1971a:125-7, 1976:596-7; MA:336). On the basis of the nom. sg. yepe the expected acc. sg. *yep (< *wēbenṃ) was rebuilt as yepe, as if it were a thematic noun. +

+ + +
+

+yerentaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: yerentaṣṣe, -, -//] +yerentaṣṣe nāko ṣukkārä /// (W-10a6). +

+ + +
+

+yerkwanto* +(nm.) +‘wheel’
+[-, -, yerkwantai//-, -, yerkwantaṃ] +pel[ai]kn[eṣ]ṣ[e] yerkwantai spārtṣlñesa tsyālpāte wnolmeṃ ‘by the turning of the law wheel he freed creatures’ (30b4/5), yerkwantaiś pwenta ‘the spokes for the wheel’ (576b2). +∎Hilmarsson (1986a:275) derives yerkwanto from a PIE *h₂wērg-wṇt-ōn- a vṛddhied and "individualizing" derivative of *h₂werg-wṇt- ‘having a circular form’ (cf. Hittite hurki- ‘wheel’ < *h₂wṛgi- ‘having a circular form’ [Melchert, 1984:120]). Hilmarsson assumes that TchA wärkänt ‘wheel’ is to be derived from the same PIE source as B yerkwanto, only with "weakening" of the expected -ar- to -är- but it seems simpler to assume that TchA reflects *h₂werg-wṇt- directly (MA:640). Compare the non-vṛddhied A śiśäk ‘lion’ with its vṛddhied B counterpart ṣecake. This etymology goes back in nuce to Sieg and Siegling (1921). Cf. VW (1963a:466, 1976:559, and 1989:103), though the details differ. +See also yerter. +

+ + +
+

+yerter +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘wheelrim, felloe’
+[yerter, -, -//] +pelaikneṣṣepi śpālmeṃ cakkarntse ṣe yerter yeksnar ‘Von dem herrlichen Gesetzrad [sind] gleichsam der eine Radkranz ringsherum’ (30b7). +∎Probably with VW (1963a:466, 1976:597) we have, in Indo-European terms, *h₂wērg-tor-, an agent noun from the same *h₂werg- that underlies *yerkwanto, q.v. The expected -rkt- is reduced to -rtt- (and spelled in the one attested instance as -rt-) as it is in yärtt-, q.v. (MA:604). +See yerkwanto*. +

+ + +
+

+yerpe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘orb’
+[-, -, yerpe//] +[särwānāṣṣe] yerpesa meñ pällentn[e] ṣ[eṣṣirku] ‘the full moon [is] surpassed by the orb of [thy] face’ (92b1), mentsiṣṣe samudtärne pluṣäṃ ram no läkleṣṣe yerpene ṣek spo[rtoträ] ‘he swims in the sea of sorrow; he revolves always on the orb of suffering’ (282b3). +∎AB yerpe (with the A form borrowed from B) is from PIE h_xērb^ho-, the vṛddhied counterpart of *h_x(o)rb^hi- seen in Latin orbis of the same meaning. The Tocharian and Latin words are otherwise isolated (VW, 1971d:449-50, 1976:597, though the details differ; MA:108). +

+ + +
+

+yel +(nm.) +‘worm’
+[yel, -, -//yeli, -, -] +mäkte yelyitse ku tallāw tākaṃ śwāṃ-ne ynkau[ṃ]-kästwer yelyi pilenta | mant källauṣṣi yelyi cmentär ‘as [if] he were a suffering, worm-ridden dog; the worms eat at his wounds day and night; so will be born the worms of possession’ (33a8/b1), [wa]rpalñe amārraṣṣe yel ra ‘enjoyment [is] like an amārro-worm’ (152b5). + -- yelyitstse ‘wormy, worm-infested’ (33a8). +∎TchA *wal (pl. walyi) and B yel reflect PTch *w'ēl from PIE *wēl(i)-, a derivative of *wel- ‘turn, twist’ [: Greek eiléō/eilúō ‘enfold, wrap up’ (< *welne/o-/welnu-e/o-), Latin volvere ‘roll, revolve,’ Armenian gelum ‘turn,’ Sanskrit válati ‘turns (intr.),’ vṛnóti ‘wraps, covers’ (P:1140ff.; MA:607)] (VW, 1941:151, 1976:543, with differing details). +See also wäl-. +

+ + +
+

+yel- +(vt.) +‘± investigate’
+Ps. VIII /yels^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. yelṣalle] +ñake śak-wi āyatanta yelpallona [lege: yelṣallona] pīś āntseṃne yapäṣṣällona ‘the twelve sense-sensations [are] to be investigated; the five constituent elements [are] to be entered into’ (192a4). +∎From PIE *wel- ‘see’ [: Welsh gweled ‘to see’ or Latin voltus ‘face’ and Gothic wulþus ‘dóxa,’ etc. (P:1136-7; MA:505)] (VW:596). The Tocharian form demands a lengthened grade iterative-intensive, i.e. *wēl-se/o- for which one might compare tresk- with a possible lengthened grade + -sḱe/o-. +See also yälloñ. +

+ + +
+

+yewe +See yepe. +

+ + +
+

+yes +See tuwe. +

+ + +
+

+yesti* +(n.) +‘± meal’
+[-, -, yesti//] +mäkte tärrek eṅwe yesti nāskoy enersänk ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘as [if] a blind man gnaws [his] meal and inadvertently [?] letting it fall into the maternal hearth, it would burn up’ (154b3). +∎From PIE *h₁ēd^s-to-, cf. Old Prussian īstai ‘meal’ or Old Bulgarian jasto ‘portion, food’ from the widespread *h₁ed- ‘eat’ (P:288; MA:175). Morphologically we have PTch *yeste + -i (cf. leke ‘bed’ and leki ‘id.’ from *leke + *-i). See the discussion of Adams (1989b). +See also yolo and yetse. +

+ + +
+

+yetse +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(outer) skin’
+[yetse, yetsentse, yetse//] +yetse tsäkṣyeñ-c kektseñmeṃ latkanoyeñ-c misa po ‘they might flay thy skin and cut off the flesh from they body’ (231a5), [ṣmare] yetse = BHS snigdhacchavi- (524b3), yetse ṣñaur=āsta ‘skin, sinews and bones’ (Dd-5/3.7), ṣmare yetse täṅwaññe wnolmentse ṣek cpī mäsketrä ‘smooth and lovely is the skin of such a being’ (K-10a3), ramt yetse nauṣäññe = BHS iva tvacaṃ purāṇam (unpubl. Berlin fragment [Thomas, 1968b:199]). +∎TchA yats and B yetse reflect PTch *yetse, possibly from PIE *h₁ēd-so- (< *h₁ed- ‘eat’ [P:287ff.]) as in German Aas ‘carrion’ (< *‘that which one eats’) which would give PTch *yetse regularly. ‘Flesh’ and ‘skin’ may be related in cognate languages (see Buck, 1949). Buck gives several examples of ‘skin’ > ‘flesh’ and the history of flesh itself, which has also come to mean ‘skin,’ illustrates the opposite semantic change. Čop (Slavistična Revija 1970:97-8 apud VW) suggests a reconstruction *ēdhyo- and VW (588) suggests a reconstruction *ēdhēn and a relationship to Lithuanian óda ‘skin’ and Latvian âda ‘id.’ from Baltic *ādā and PIE *ōdhā. However, a PIE *ōdhā- should give Lithuanian *uoda, Latvian *oda. +See also yolo and yesti*. +

+ + +
+

+yait- +See yät-. +

+ + +
+

+yaitkor* +(n.) +‘commandment’
+[-, -, yaitkor//] +[kä]ṣ[ṣi]ntaṃts yaitkorne ‘in the commandment of the teachers’ (8b2), twe ñi yaitkorsa maṃt pyām ‘carry out my order’ (LP-1a2). +∎A derivative of wätk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yaipor +See yäp-. +

+ + +
+

+yailor +(n.) +‘?’
+/// [] yailor wat [] wa/// (550.1b1). +∎Perhaps from wäl- ‘bend,’ q.v. If so, see also yel. +

+ + +
+

+yok*¹ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘color’
+[-, -, yok//] +/// po yoksa pyapyaiṃ śār s ̇ ̇/// ‘flowers of every color...’ (120a1). +∎AB yok is merely a semantic specialization of yok ‘hair’ (cf. Avestan gaona- ‘hair, hair-color, color’ or Spanish pelo ‘(body)hair, color of an animal's coat’). The Tocharian phenomenon is probably a calque on the Iranian (Winter, 1968:63). +See also ²yok, ysā-yok, lare-yok and patrāk-yok, pwār-yok, etc. +

+ + +
+

+yok² +(nnt.) +(a) ‘hair [both a single hair and collective]’; (b) [either singular or plural] ‘wool’
+[yok, -, -//yākwa, -, yākwa] (a) +/// somo somo klokaśne ltū wlaṃśke yok tañ kektsentsa ‘in each and every follicle emerged a soft hair over thy body’ (74a3), ikañceṃ oktañceṃ ṣukaunne y[ākwa kektse]ñtsa tänmaske[n]tär-ne āssa yok pärwānesa /// ‘in the 28th week hairs appear over the body [of the embryo], hair on the head and on the eyebrows’ (603b3/4); +
+(b) śānta warkāre ysañiye yok tāka ‘they sheared the sheep; golden was the wool’ (452a1), k_use ṣamāne aletstsai aśīyantse yākwa lāṃssi aiṣṣäṃ to[y] yākwa päst tärkanallona ‘whatever monk should give wool to a unrelated nun to work; that wool [is] to be given up’ (PK-NS-18A-a1 [Thomas, 1978a:238]). + -- yokaṣṣe* ‘prtng to hair’: po kektseñtsa yokaṣṣana klokaści kauc /// ‘over the whole body hair follicles high...’ (405b8). +∎Etymology not altogether certain. Stalmaszczyk and Witczak connect this word (1990:37, fn. 2) with Armenian asr ‘fleece.’ Like Tch yok, asr is a descendant of a neuter u-stem. It must be admitted that the fate of initial *y- in Armenian is not well-known. With or without the Armenian we might add (Vedic) Sanskrit yāśu- (nt.) and its derivatives ayāśu-, suyāśutara-, and budbudáyāśu-. All of these are hapax legomena and all are in difficult passages, but all clearly having sexual reference of some sort, hence the usual translation of yāśu- as ‘Samenerguss’ or the like. My suggestion would be that yāśu- meant something like ‘± pubic hair.’ It occurs in the obscure passage of RV 1,126,6: dádāti máhyaṃ yādurī yāśūnām bhojya śatā ‘the yādurī gives to me the 100 delights of [her] yāśus.’ The following verse continues: ‘do not deem me immature, everywhere I am hairy like a gandhārī-ewe.’ Geldner's translation su-yāśu-tara- in RV 10,86,6 is, ‘keine Frau hat eine schönere Scham, keine gewährt schöneren Liebesgenuss.’ I think we may have a dyadic expression where suyāśatara- amplifies or paraphrases in some way the first (schönere Scham). At AV 8,6,15 ayāśu- occurs as the last of list of physical defects of those who should be avoided as marriage partners. Some of the words used are completely obscure but ayāśu- appears coupled with kumbhamuṣka- ‘having pot-shaped testicles.’ Ayāśu- is normally translated as ‘impotent’ but might also be ‘lacking pubic hair.’ If all three sets of words (Tocharian, Sanskrit, and Armenian) belong together, they might reflect *yāḱu- (*yeh_aḱu-) or *yēḱu-/yeḱu- (MA:252). +
+Both semantically and phonologically unlikely is the hypothesis of Winter (1980) and Hilmarsson (1985b) that sees this word related to Lithuanian jėgà ‘strength’ and Greek hēbē ‘youthful strength; pūbēs,’ since they have to assume (1) an unattested and unlikely underlying root noun *yēg^w that was reanalyzed as a u-stem on the basis of the pre-Tocharian plural *yēkwā and (2) a semantic progression ‘youthful strength’ > ‘outward sign of youthful strength (i.e. pubic hair)’ > ‘hair (in general).’ The latter is a type of semantic change not otherwise attested in Indo-European (see now Adams, 1988a, and also Adams, 1987b). Not with VW (1978b and, more elaborately, 1983[87]: 256-8) a compound of y- + -ākw- ‘looking like a sheep,’ nor with Adams (1982/83) is it related to TchA śāku ‘headhair.’ +See also yok*¹. +

+ + +
+

+yok- +(vt.) +G ‘drink’; K ‘give to drink; suckle’
+G Ps. I /yok-/ [A -, -, yokäṃ//; MPPart. yokamane; Ger. yokalle]; Ko. I (= Ps.) [A yoku, -, -//; Inf. yoktsi]; Pt /yāk-/ [A -, -, yāś//]; PP /yoku-/ +kauṃ-yṣi [c]eṃ[ts no rākṣa]ts[e] yokäṃ śaulaṣṣana wranta wnolmentso ‘day and night the rākṣasa drinks the life-water of these beings’ (45a5); śwālle yokalle ‘it [is] to be eaten and drunk’ (497a10); indrintaṣṣeṃ semensa yoku-c ersna snai [so]ylyñe ‘I will drink the form with the water-dippers of [my] senses without satiation’ (241b2/3), [ś]w[ā]tsi yok[t]si tsmoci pśaiso ‘you adults; live to eat and drink!’ (508a1=509b2); [tarne ṣuk]t p[a]kenta karstā-c tsaukā-c [yasa]r [s]u /// su śāwa tañ kaccāpäṃne | yaśac ya[sar]/// ‘he cut thy skull into seven parts and sucked thy blood out; ... he ate from thy brainpan, he drank thy blood’ (250a2), ///sa yāś yasar mīsa kektseñmeṃ ‘he drank the blood and flesh from the body’ (H-ADD.149.88 [K. T. Schmidt, 1997:259]); mā ṣpä [śe]śū nano śūwaṃ mā ṣpä yok[u] nano yokäṃ ‘and [one who has] eaten should not eat again and [one who has] drunk should not drink again’ (MSL-18.23 [Thomas, 1986:129]), /// - weṣṣäṃ mā ṣpä śū nano śūwaṃ 80 mā ṣpä yoku nano yokäṃ (PK-NS-58b2 [Pinault, 1994:136-184]) [These two passages are obviously intended to be identical. Thomas takes yoku to be a preterite participle while Pinault takes them to be present subjunctives.] + -- yoktsi (n.) ‘drink’: śwātsi yoktsi leki sāṃtke ‘food, drink, bed, medicine’ (50b3). +∎AB yok- reflects a PIE *h₁ēg^w(h)- from *h₁eg^w(h)- ‘drink’ [: Hittite eku-/aku- ‘drink,’ Latin ēbrius ‘having drunk one's fill, drunk,’ and perhaps Greek nēphō ‘be sober’ (< if from *ne- + h₁eg^wh-) (MA:175)]. Cf. Puhvel's discussion (1984:267-8) of Hittite eku-/aku- and (1985) of Latin ēbrius. The equation of the Tocharian and Hittite words goes back to Pedersen (1925:40) but should not include the family of Latin aqua, an equation wrongly repeated by VW (601-2). The lengthened grade of the Tocharian verb may reflect an "acrostatic" present (Oettinger, 1979:87) or a lengthened grade iterative-intensive. +See also tsuk-. +

+ + +
+

+yokasto* +(n.) +‘drink, nectar’
+[-, -, yokastai//] +yśe lareñ nai pūrpat tā pelaikneṣṣai yokastai ‘O dear ones, enjoy indeed the nectar of the law!’ (231b2/3). +∎A derivative of yok-. +

+ + +
+

+yokänta +(n.) +‘drinker’
+[yokänta, -, -//yokäntañ, -, -] +(248a3, 565b4). +∎A nomen agentis from yok-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yokiye ~ yoko +(nf.) +‘thirst; desire’
+[yoko ~ yokiye, yokaintse, yokai//-, -, yokaiṃ] +[yo]kīye ... yokai[nts]e [= BHS tṛṣṇā-] (156b4), kest yoko ‘hunger and thirst’ (220b1), amāno maune yokīye ‘self-conceit, avarice, and desire’ (A-1b3=A-2a3), aswa lymine yokaisa ‘lips parched by thirst’ (H-149.14b1 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:4]). + -- yokaiṣṣe ‘prtng to thirst’: yokaiṣṣe = BHS tṛṣṇā- (27b4); +
+yokaitse ‘thirsty’: yokaitse kse[lñe] [=BHS tṛṣṇānirodhāt] (157b4), mā cew yoko krāsäṣṣäṃ ṣekä [] tākaṃ yokaitse kr_ui pākri mäskentär-ne yoktsi enepre ‘thirst does not always torment him; if he is thirsty [things] to drink appear before him’ (K-10b2). +∎Etymology difficult. TchA yoke and B yoko reflect a PTch *yokai- but further connections are unclear. Probably still the most likely equation is Pedersen's (1941:42) with Sanskrit īhā- ‘aspiration, desire’ which (contra VW) would be phonetically possible if both are from a root *h_xyeǵ^h- (see the discussion at ykāsse). PTch *yokai- would then reflect either *h_xyoǵ^heh_a-en- or *h_xyēǵ^heh_a-en- (the -o- of the first syllable would be generalized from the nominative singular *yoko, where it was regular). Also possible is VW's suggestion (1973b:186-7, 1976:602-3) of a relationship with Greek dípsa ‘thirst’ and a derivation of both Greek and Tocharian words from a PIE *dyeK^w-. Hilmarsson, on the other hand (1986a:11), posits a connection with Sanskrit yāc- ‘ask, demand’ (taking the Tocharian word to reflect a PIE *yeh_ak^weh_a-). However, Sanskrit yāc- is to be connected with PIE *yek- ‘offer; (solemnly) express, explain’ (Mayrhofer, 1976:14-15). +See also motä-yokaiṃ. +

+ + +
+

+yogācāre* +(n.) +‘one practicing yoga, a yogi’
+[-, yogācārentse, -//yogācāri, -, -] +(9b5). +∎From BHS yogācāra-. +

+ + +
+

+yoñiya* +(nf.) +‘path, way, course’
+[-, yoñiyantse, yoñiyai//] +tumeṃ ... käṣṣi ... ṣamāneṃ bhavākkärṣṣai yoñiyai eṃṣke katkässi añmassu ‘then the teacher was desirous of making the monks traverse the bh. way.’ (108b3), ytārye = BHS mārgaḥ ... [yo]ñi[ya] = BHS vartma [cf. Couvreur, 1968:280] (528b4), śletaśśäntse īkene [] ywārttaś pinkäṃ salyitsai yoñyaine [] Sknatteṃśco ‘in the mountain commander's place; the commander of the center writes to S. on the Salt Way’ (LP-3a1). + -- yoñiyai-ṣpärkäṣṣuki* ‘± caravan-destroyer’ (?): waṣik-kälpaṣṣukiṃ yoñiyai-ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ ‘... scourges of the way’ [yoñiyai-ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ = Uyghur arquɣ artatquji ‘those who destroy the arquɣ’] (330a5). +∎TchA yoñi and B yoñiya reflect a PTch *yoñiya. *Yoñiya is no doubt to be related to TchA yoṃ ‘trace, footprint.’ Isebaert (1980:143) suggests as one possibility that A yoṃ ‘footprint, trace’ is a borrowing from an Iranian *yauna- but he also allows the possibility, following VW (1976:604, cf. 1941:171), of a relationship with Latin jānus ‘(arched) passage.’ In fact yoṃ is (as VW has seen) the exact equivalent of Latin jānu- from PIE *yeh_a- ‘go’ (P:296; MA:228). *Yeh_a-nu- originally must have meant ‘a going’ whence Latin ‘passage’ and A ‘trace [of going].’ PTch *yoñiya is a further derivative (and not, as VW [604] a borrowing from BHS yoni-), in PIE terms *yeh_anu-yeh_a- and perhaps the direct equivalent of Latin jānua ‘passage(way), entrance.’ (In Tocharian we have *-uyā- > *-äyā- with the regular change of *-u- to *-ä- in open syllables > *-iyā- with assimilation of *-ä- to the following *-y-.) For the formation, one should compare Greek nékuia (f.) ‘funeral ceremony,’ a derivative of néku- (m.) ‘corpse,’ or nēduia (nt. pl.) ‘bowels,’ a derivative of nēdu- (f.) ‘stomach’ (see Pârvalescu, 1986). The -ñ- rather than -n- here is analogic l after the palatalization of palatalizable consonants in all other forms having *-iyā. +See also iyā-. +

+ + +
+

+yoñiye* +(n.) +‘± groin, pubis’
+[-, -, yoñiye//] +śāmñ-ayāṣe ṣat yamaṣäle sanatse yoñiyene tsapanale maiyo kuletär-ne ‘one [is] to jab a sliver of human bone into the groin of [the effigy of] the enemy; his strength declines’ (M-2a4). + -- yoñyeṣṣe ‘prtng to the groin or pubis’: päknāträ klaiṃ ekalmi yāmtsi taine ysissi yoñyeṣṣe to pwarne hom yamaṣäle ‘[if] one intends to make a woman submit, to touch sexually her groin, a pubic hair [is] to be put in the fire [as] a sacrifice’ (M-1b6). +∎(As if) from a PIE *h_ayuh_xniyo- ‘youthful strength’ [: *h_ayuh_xe/on- ‘young’ (Skt. yuvā, Latin juvenis, etc. (P:510-511; MA:655)]. For the semantic development, one should compare Greek hēbē ‘youthful strength’ and ‘pubic hair; pubic region.’ Otherwise Van Windekens (1987:233-234) who considers this word to be a misspelling of yoñiyai. +

+ + +
+

+yot* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± vital fluid, broth’
+[-, -, yot//-, -, yātwa] +yonwā ñäś ce śāmñe cämel taññe ṣärmtsā //// kektseñ yātwa indrintasa ‘I achieved this human birth because of thee [thou didst endow my (?)] body with vital fluids and senses’ [usually taken as a preterite of yāt- but on the formal impossibilities of that, see Thomas, 1978a:177-8] (365b5/6), ysārña yäkṣīye mitstsa [= mit-sa] ṣpärkaṣṣälle kränkaññe yotsa laupe kātsa yāmusai ‘wheat flour [is] to be dissolved with honey, with chicken broth [as] a salve [on] the treated stomach’ (W-39b3). +‣Yot would appear to be the semantic equivalent of Sanskrit rasa-, among whose meanings are: ‘essence, marrow; a constituent fluid or essential juice of the body, serum, chyle; soup, broth’ (M-W) or, from an l-dialect, lasīkā ‘watery humor.’ +∎From PIE wēdu-, a derivative of *wed-, whence *wedōr ‘water,’ etc. (P:78-80). The best morpho-phonological analogs to the pre-Tocharian *wēdu- are Germanic *wēta- ‘wet’ and Phrygian (in Greek letters) bedu ‘water.’ (An u-stem with vṛddhi is probably also to be seen in TchB mot ‘alcohol, alcoholic beverage’ < *mēd^hu, cf. mit ‘honey’ < *med^hu). +

+ + +
+

+yotkolau +(n.) +‘± foreman/director’
+[yotkolau, -, yotkolaṃt//] +twe ñī yaitkorsa maṃt pyām k_uce ñake [] Yurettsaññe [] yotkolau ṣamāne [] parra yaṃ caumpa kapyāri wi ‘carry out thus my order that the foreman monk from Y. goes beyond; with him two workers’ (LP-10a3). +‣Compare also Pinault's discussion (1986:77) where he cites yotkolat (lege: yotkolaṃt) from a "procès-verbale" and yotkolau twice preceding a proper name in a document published in China (non vidi). We seem to have a title of a (monastic) official, one which on the evidence of LP-10a3 is naturally the chief of a group and which is contrasted with "workers." Thus a gloss of "foreman/director" or the like seems natural. +∎If the meaning is correct, then we have a derivative of wätk- ‘command,’ q.v., i.e. ‘one who gives commands’ or the like. We have *yotkol (cf. trokol ‘provisions’) + (agentive) -ā- (cf. saṃtkinau or olyitau). *Yotkol would reflect an early PTch *w'ētkūl. +

+ + +
+

+yoro* +(n.) +‘± pustule, boil’
+[//-, -, yoraiṃ] +pāwe āśce /// yoraiṃ nakṣäṃ ‘powder, the head ... it destroys boils’ [Sieg, 1953:73] (W-8a4). +∎Hilmarsson (1986a:31-2) suggests a preform *wēreh_a- and a relationship with Latin varus ‘boil, pimple (of the face)’ and Lithuanian vìras ‘boil in swine-flesh, parasite,’ both otherwise isolated with Indo-European (MA:523). +See also perhaps yweru. +

+ + +
+

+yolaiññe* +(nnt.) +‘evil’
+[-, yolaiññentse, yolaiññe//yolaiññenta, -, yolaiññenta] +ñiś yolaiññemeṃ tsälpāwa ‘I was freed from evil’ (19b7), yolaiñemeṃ maukatai ‘thou hast desisted from evil’ (241a4), po yolaiñenta = BHS sarvapāpaṃ (306a2), yolaiññ[e]ntse = BHS pāpasya (308b8). +∎A derivative of yolo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yolo +(n./adj.) +‘bad, evil; ugly’
+[(n.) yolo, -, yolo ~ yolaiṃ//-, yolainaṃts, yolaina] [(adj.) m: yolo, yolopi, yolaiṃ (~yoloṃ)//yolaiñ, -, yolaiṃ] [f:-, -, yolyiyai// yolaina, -, yolaina] +[yo]laiṃ wāṣmontse Devadatti ṣertwentsa ‘with the provocations of the evil friend D.’ (21a4), yolo = BHS pāpa- (31a7), koynameṃ yolo were onolments aunasträ wrātsi ‘from the mouths of [such] creatures begins to be smelled an evil smell’ (K-8b3), yolo yā[moṣ] = BHS duṣkṛtaṃ (U-13b6). + -- yolai-erepate ‘ill-favored, ugly’ [= BHS virūpa-] (5b8); +
+ yolo-pilkotstse* ‘ill-seen, ill-examined or decided [as in a lawsuit]’ [= BHS durdṛṣṭi-] (H-ADD.149.85 [Thomas, 1968a:205]); +
+yolo-särwāna ‘ugly-faced’ [= BHS durmukha-] (550b1); +
+yolo-were ‘evil-smelling/having an evil smell’: yuṣe-yndrinta yolo-were ‘with dull senses and evil-smelling’ (K-8a1); +
+yolo-weretsäññe ‘the state of having an evil smell’ [= BHS daurgandhya-] (Y-3a2); +
+yolo-yāmi ‘evil-doer’: /// myāyawa yolo-yāmi ‘I harmed the evil-doer’ (265.2); +
+yolo-yamortstse (n.) ‘evil-doer, criminal, sinner’ [= BHS pāpakarmānaḥ] (H-149.329b3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:486; Thomas, 1968a:192]); +
+yolo-wäntre ‘having an evil dharma’ [= BHS pāpadharma] (31a7). +∎From PIE *h₁edwol-ōn-, a derivative of *h₁ed-wol- (lit. ‘that which eats,’ cf. P:287ff.) seen in Cuneiform Luvian adduwal- ‘evil’ (n.) and in further derivative in Cuneiform Luvian adduwal-i- ‘evil’ (adj.) and Hittite idāl-u- ‘evil’ (adj.) (Rasmussen, 1984:144-145, fn. 7, based on Čop, 1975:150f, 204; MA:413). The phonological derivation must have been something like: *h₁edwolōn- > *yäwelō > *ywolo > yolo. Further relatives are probably to be seen in Greek odúnē ‘pain, suffering’ and Armenian erkn ‘pangs of birth, great pain’ which reflect a PIE *h₁edwon-. It may well be that we have, with Rasmussen, a PIE l/n-stem here. The Tocharian word has been borrowed into Khotanese as yola- ‘falsehood’ (cf. Bailey, 1979:343); not, as VW would have it (971d:450-1, 1976:603), a native word consisting y-, an intensifying prefix, + -olo related to Welsh gwall ‘bad, evil.’ +See also yesti and yetse. +

+ + +
+

+yolme +(nm.) +‘(large, deep) pond, pool’
+[yolme, -, yolme//yolmi, -, -] +kwri war tākaṃ yolmene wināññenträ omp lwāsa laksäṃ warñai ‘if there is water in the pool, animals, fish, etc., find pleasure there’ (11b4), /// yolmi asāre [lege: asāri ?] /// ‘dry pools’ (387.1b), yolme = BHS hrada- (PK-NS-107b4 [Thomas, 1976b:106]). +∎Probably from *h₁ēlmōn/h₁ēlmonṃ, related to a number of Lithuanian hydronyms: Al̃mė, Almuonė, Almenas, El̃mė, or Latin Almō (Hilmarsson, 1986a:31; MA:207). The -o- would have been regular in the nominative singular and was extended throughout the paradigm. On the basis of the accusative singular in -e (after the loss of -nä in nouns not denoting rational beings), the noun was transferred to the thematic class. Less likely is it to be related to Sanskrit ūrmí- (m/f.) ‘wave,’ Avestan varəmi- ‘id.,’ OHG walm (m.) ‘Aufwellen, Sieden, Hitze,’ Old English wielm ‘boiling, swelling, billow, current’ (cf. P:1140-43). Under the latter hypothesis, the Germanic and Indo-Iranian may represent the outcomes of an old ablauting noun *w(o)lh_xmi- while the Tocharian reflects a vṛddhied derivative *wēlh_xmo- (cf. yerpe from *h₁ērbho- while Latin orbis is from *h₁(o)rbhi-) (Naert, 1964, and Isebaert, 1987a, though the details differ). Not with VW (603): y- an intensifying prefix + *ūlmo- related to Greek aulós ‘water-conduit.’ +See also possibly ālme and lāñe. +

+ + +
+

+Yoṣil(̇)e +(n.) +(PN)
+[Yoṣil(̇)e, -, -//] (133a8). +

+ + +
+

+yaukk- +(vt.) +‘use’
+Ps. IXa /yaukkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, yaukkastär//]; Ko. V /yaukkā-/ [MP //-, -, yaukkāntär]; Pt. Ib /yaukkā-/ [MP -, -, yaukkāte/]; PP /yāyaukkā-/; +te ma[ṃ]t wiṣaiyntane yaukkastär /// (195a2); /// yaukkanträ cai śalna yāmtsi ‘[if] these are used to cause strife’ (36b3); [aps]āl yaukkāte-ne ‘he used his sword’ (373b5), [kau]tsiś yaukkat[e] (590b7). + -- yaukkalñe*: y[au]kkalñane [lege: yaukkalñene] (196a6). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps from PIE *youg-w- or *yēug-w- from yeug- ‘join’ (P:509; MA:655), for the meaning one should compare particularly Sanskrit yuj- ‘yoke, join; prepare, arrange, use, employ’ (VW, 1964b:615, 1976:588). If the putative PIE vowel was *-o-, one might compare the causative naittäsk- ‘crush’ (s.v. nitt-) or staukkäsk- (s.v. staukk-). Alternatively one might think of comparing this Tocharian word with Lithuanian jaukìnti ‘to tame,’ Latvian jaucēt ‘to accustom,’ Lithuanian jùnkti ‘become accustomed to,’ jaukùs ‘comfortable, tame,’ OCS učiti ‘to teach,’ Sanskrit ucyati ‘is accustomed to.’ In this case the Tocharian might reflect *h₁ēuk-w-. +

+ + +
+

+yauyek* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, yauyekänta] +ñake Śinkunmeṃ pärsonta yauyekänta klāstär (DAM.507-a6 [Pinault, 1984a]). +‣Meaning uncertain, etymology unknown. Pinault suggests ‘(verbal) orders’ as appropriate to the context (associated with ‘letters’) but ‘documents’ or the like would also seem to be possible. +

+ + +
+

+yauṣmauṣ +(adv.) +‘onwards, forwards’
+[po] n[o] keṃ śaiṣṣe ñakti śāmna yaumṣauṣ [lege: yauṣmauṣ] po [y]e[yeṃ] ‘the whole earth, however, the world, gods and men, they all went onward’ (382a3), yauṣmauṣ yeyeṃ katkauñaisa kalñi śaiṣṣe ‘they went forward; the world called out of joy’ (408a4). +∎The equivalent of TchA yoṣmoṣ but further connections are unknown. For a suggestion, VW (604-5) who relates the first part to TchA yu- ‘direct toward’ and the second to mus- ‘raise.’ +

+ + +
+

+ykāk +(adv.) +‘still, even’
+ykāk ñiś kälāstär epyac poyśy añmālaṃṣke ‘still the Omniscient remembers [to be] merciful to me’ (22b8), mäkte wassi swarenäṃ werempa tattaṃ ksa walke waipte kartse werenmeṃ sū wassi ykāk swāre warṣṣäṃ ‘as a garment one puts with a sweet smell; longtime away from the good smells still smells sweet’ (A-2b4), ce klautkesa śaul no ykāk mā nanautau ‘even by such behavior, however, life is not lost’ (K-7a4). +∎From /yäkā/ (i.e. yaka) + the strengthening particle -kä. +See also yak and yaka. +

+ + +
+

+ykāṃṣaññ- +(vi.) +‘feel/show disgust/loathing’
+Ps. XII /ykāṃṣaññ-/ [A -, -, ykāṃṣantär//-, -, ykāṃṣ(äñ)ñentär] +sū cew yāmorsa prāskaṃ māka kwipenträ | onmiṃ yamaskeṃ ykāṃṣanträ pest tärkänaṃ (K-3b5), cey cew yāmorsa mā parskaṃ mā ykāṃṣñenträ ‘these, by this deed, will not fear or show disgust’ (K-2b6). + -- ykāṃṣälñe ‘aversion’: ykāṃṣälñe ṣek warästrä ‘[if] he always practices aversion [to the body]’ [ykāṃṣälñe = BHS aśubha-] (8b7). +∎A denominative verb from ykāṃṣe. +

+ + +
+

+ykāṃṣe* +(n.) +‘loathsomeness; aversion, repulsion’
+[-, -, ykāṃṣe//ykāṃṣenta, -, -] +/// [ke]ktseñe ykāṃṣe lkāṣlya aśubh ṣek waräṣṣä[lle] ‘the body [is] to be seen [as] loathsomeness; the aśubha-[meditation] [is] always to be practiced’ (9a3), lwāsāts ykaṃṣentā ‘the loathsomenesses of animals’ (571b2). +∎Etymology unclear. Perhaps a substantivized ṣṣe-adjective built on the accusative plural of a noun *yäkā- or *īkā- ‘desire’ (see ykāssäññe), thus ‘that which pertains to (bad) desires.’ Otherwise VW (598) who sees in this word a compound of *yk(ā)-, related to yäk- ‘be negligent’ and *-(ā)ṃṣe ‘hostility.’ +See also ykāssäññe. +

+ + +
+

+ykāssäññe +(n.) +‘sexual pleasure, concupiscence’
+ykāssä[ññe] (572b3). + -- ykāssäññeṣe ‘prtng to concupiscence’: ykāssäññeṣṣe prayok ‘sexual intercourse’ (H-149.ADD.8a2 [Hilmarsson, 1991b:85]), ykāssäṃñeṣṣa yoko = BHS kāmatṛṣṇā- (PK-NS-53a1 [Pinault, 1988]). +∎An abstract noun ykāssäññe (= BHS kāma-) ‘sexual desire, concupiscence’ which must be based on an underlying adjective *ykāsse (for the formation, see Winter, 1979), possibly itself ‘concupiscent’ (Pinault [1988] suggests ‘shameful’). The adjective itself would be built to a noun */yäkā-/ or */īkā-/ (cf. ymassu to īme or ykenta to īke). If the latter, the obvious connection is with the morphologically identical Sanskrit īhā- ‘desire, wish, striving’ Avestan īžā- ‘striving, zeal’ (P:14-15; MA:158). The Indo-Iranian and Tocharian forms represent a deverbative noun, *h_xih_xiǵ^h-eh_a-, from a reduplicated *h_xih_xiǵ^h-e/o- (cf. Sanskrit īhate). +See ykāssälñe* and yśelme and possibly yoko and ykāṃṣe. +

+ + +
+

+ykāssälñe* +(n.) +‘concupiscence’
+[-, -, ykāssälñe//] +duṣṭhul plāś ykāsälñeś milykotstsai klaiñiś we[ṣṣäṃ] ‘he says a speech of reproach/condemnation to the woman on account of her concupiscence’ (325a3). +‣A variant of ykāssäññe (conflated with verbal abstracts in -lñe). +

+ + +
+

+yke +See ike. +

+ + +
+

+ykorñe +(n.) +‘negligence’ [usually in the compound snai-ykorñe ‘diligence’]
+[-, -, ykorñe//-, -, ykorñenta] +ykorñe = BHS pramādaṃ (U-7a3), Mahā-kāśyape kowsa snai-ykorñesa ykorñenta ‘M. killed/destroyed negligences by non-negligence’ (12a7), snai-ykorñ/// = BHS apramattā (U-6a1), snai- ykorñe = BHS apramādaṃ (U-7a1). + -- -ykorñeṣṣe ‘prtng to negligence’: snai-ykorñeṣṣe [n]au[myesa tä]ñ ‘with the jewel of thy non-negligence’ (214b1); +
+ (-)ykorñetstse* ‘negligent’/‘diligent’: [sn]ai-y[k]or[ñ]e[ccepi] = BHS apramattasya (12b8), snai-[y]k[or]ñ[ecci] = BHS apramattāḥ, ykorñecc[i] = BHS pramattaḥ (H-ADD.149.94a1 [Thomas, 19681:194]). +∎A derivative of yäk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ykweṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to going’
+[m: -, ykweṣṣepi, ykweṣṣe//] +kektsenne ykweṣṣ=īmesa pelaikneṃnta karsoym ṣñār ṣotrisa ‘by the memory gone into the body may I know the laws each by its own sign’ (S-4b4), emallene ykuweṣṣepi mā yokalle ‘to him who has gone into heat [= who suffers from heat] it [is] not to be drunk’ (ST-b1). +∎A derivative of i- ‘go,’ particularly one should note the preterite participle, yku-, and the absolute, ykuwermeṃ. +

+ + +
+

+yñakteṃ +(adv.) +‘among gods’ [often with yśāmna ‘among men’]
+āyorsa śāte yñakteṃ yśāmna su tänmasträ ‘by [this] gift he will be [re-]born rich among gods and men’ (23b4/5), yñakteṃ ykuwermeṃ = BHS devāṃ gatvā (198a5). +∎y- (in Indo-European terms, *h₁en- ‘in’) + (acc. pl.) ñakteṃ ‘gods,’ q.v. +See also ynāñm, yneś, yśāmna and ysomo. +

+ + +
+

+ytārye +(nf.) +‘road; way’
+[ytārye, -, ytāri//-, -, ytariṃ] +brahmalokäś tā_u ytāri śālamai ‘I led the way to the brahma-world’ (19b7), orotstsai ytāri [= BHS mahāpatham] ... ytāri [= BHS mārgam] (305a3), se ṣamāne lykaṃ wārṣeṃmpa plākisa ytāri yaṃ pāyti ‘[if] a monk should take the road with thieves and robbers willingly [lit: by agreement], pāyti’ (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]). + -- ytaritstse* ‘[one] having the way or road, wayfarer’ (?): ytaricci wṣiyeṃ (136a3); +
+ytariṣṣe ‘prtng to a road or way’ (174a6). +∎TchA ytār and B ytārye reflect PTch *yätār (+, in the case of B, -iye). This word is obviously related most closely to Hittite itar (nt.) ‘road’ and Latin iter (nt.) ‘id.’ The Hittite and Latin forms reflect a PIE "non-collective" *h₁i-tṛ ‘a going, passage’ (< *h₁ei- ‘go’ [cf. P:294-5; MA:227-228, 487]) while Tocharian shows the corresponding "collective" *h₁i-tōr (cf. TchB yasar ‘blood’ < *h₁esh₂ōr but Hittite eshar < *h₁esh₂ṛ) (Schrader/Nehring, 1929:493, VW:610). +See also i-. +

+ + +
+

+y(n)- +(prefix) +‘in, among’
+∎From PIE *h₁en ‘in, into’ (P:311-314; MA:290). +See yñakteṃ, ynāñm, yneś, yśāmna, ysomo, and also eneṃ. +

+ + +
+

+ynamo* +(adj.) +‘walking’ [i.e. bi- or quadrupedal motion, as opposed to flying]
+[m: -, -, ynamoṃ//] [f: //-, -, ynamñana] +kowän lwāsa ṣlyamñana ynamñana ‘they killed flying animals [= birds] and walking animals’ (29b8). +∎A derivative of i- ‘go,’ q.v., more particularly of the extended stem yn-. +

+ + +
+

+ynāñm +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘appreciated, evaluated, judged’
+śateñ wnolmi cai mā śaiṣṣe kca ynāñm yā[m]oṣ ‘these rich creatures, not deemed worthy by anyone’ (24a3), [śä]lnāntats śpālmeṃ ynāñm ‘by the strife-ridden [as] the best evaluated’ [ynāñm = BHS abhiman-] (36b2), [re]kī mā astre ynañm [m]ā mäsketrä ‘the word is not judged pure’ (134b4), tso staukkanatär-ne śle yasar kalträ klainats preṃtsa ynāñm yamasträ ‘his penis swells; it stands with blood; he becomes potent and [is] appreciated by women’ (FS-b5). + -- ynāñmäññe ‘appreciation, kind treatment, honor, reverence, favor’: pudñäkteś masa yarke ynāñmñesa ‘he went to the Buddha with honor and reverence’ (5a3), yarke ynāñmäññentane = BHS satkāreṣu (32b5). +∎From yn- + āñm. +See also yneś, yñakteṃ, ynāñm, yśāmna, and ysomo. +

+ + +
+

+ynūca +(adj.) +‘going’
+[m: ynūca, ynūcantse, -//ynūcañ, -, ynūcaṃ] +karāś ynūcaṃ ceṃ wnolmeṃtsä ‘for these creatures going [in] the woods’ (23b2), papāṣṣu ṣek wawāwlau [lege: wawlāwau] alokälymi ynūca ‘well-behaved and always directed and going [after] a single goal’ (31a8), postäṃ ṣek ynūcañ ‘always following’ (45a2), totte ynūca = BHS pāragāḥ ‘having crossed over’ (TX-7b7 [Thomas, 1974:101]). +∎A derived adjective from the extended stem yn- of i- ‘go,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+yneś(ne) +([indeclinable] adj./adv.) +‘real(ly), manifest(ly), obvious(ly)’
+[yneś yām- ‘to realize, make real’] +orkmo yneś kr_ui tākan-ne ‘if he makes the darkness clear to him’ (139a4), yneśne = BHS -svabhāva- (199b3), twe nervāṃne yneśne ram no klyauṣit ‘may thou [who art] in Nirvana, as it were, really listen’ (231a1), yneś = BHS sākṣāt (H-ADD.149.62a4 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). + -- yneśaññe ‘present, actual’: [yne]śaññai preściyaiścä ‘to the present time’ (149b4), kätkau_u-ekmätte-yneśäññi ... läklenta ‘past, future, and present sufferings’ (284b4), ekämacci k_use yneśaṃñi ‘those who are to come and those present’ (Dd-6-2.3). +∎From yn- (PIE *h₁en) + eś or eśne, the dual of ek (Lévi, 1933:160, VW:600, cf. also Hamp, 1989a). TchA yneś ‘id.’ is a borrowing from B. +See also yñakteṃ, ynāñm, yśāmna, and ysomo. +

+ + +
+

+ynai +‘?’
+LP-68b1 (entire text; perhaps a signature). +

+ + +
+

+Ynaike* +(n.) +proper noun or title?
+[-, Ynaiki, -//] +Ynaiki (LP-41b1) [entire text]. +‣See Pinault, 1986:75. +

+ + +
+

+ynaiktentāñe +(n.) +a kind of edible
+(433a14). +‣Discussion, Pinault, 1986:75. +∎A very speculative etymology, VW (599-600). +

+ + +
+

+ynaimyāṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Ynaimya’ (the name of a place?)
+[m: //ynaimyāṣṣi, -, -] +[NN] ynaimyāṣṣi ketasa cāneṃ kamānte yältse piś känte ‘[names], inhabitants of Ynaimya took 1500 cānes for the field’ (Otani 19.1.2/3 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+yparñe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: yparña -, -//] +yparña pärkā - /// (376b4). +

+ + +
+

+yparwe +(preposition/adverb) +‘first’
+[pa]lsko pannatsiśc rupne yparwe ‘in order to direct the spirit first to the form’ (9b3), ce ślok weña yparwe poyśi cmelas=ontsoycce[ṃ]ś ‘this śloka the Buddha spoke first to those unsatiated by births’ (23a3), snai-ypärwe nauṣ saṃsārne käṃnte-oktä kleśanma auṣuwa ‘the 108 kleśas [which] in incomparable ways [snai-ypärwe = BHS apūrvam] in an earlier saṃsāra dwelt’ (228a5/b1), yparwe preśyaine = BHS -pūrvakāla- (541a1), ypärwe = BHS ādir (TX-5a4 [Thomas, 1974:95]). + -- yparwetstse ‘having a beginning [lit: ‘having a first’], previous’: snai-yparwece saṃsā[rne] ‘the endless [lit: beginningless] saṃsāra’ (221b3), temeñ mante āyor papāṣṣorñe ompalskoñe yparwetsana pelaiknenta weṃtsi aunaskenträ ‘from here on they begin, gift, [moral] behavior, and meditation, to tell of the previous laws’ (H-149.40a2 [Thomas, 1954:718]); +
+ -yparwäññe in the compound snai-yparwäññe ‘endlessness’ (149a2). +∎In PIE terms *h₁en- ‘in’ + *prh₃wo- ‘first.’ +See also pärweṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+ypiye* +(adj.) +‘prtng to millet’
+[m: -, -, ypiye//] [f: ypiya, -, -//] +ypiya yäkṣiye ‘millet flour’ (P-1a6), ypiye warsa ‘millet water’ (Y-1b1). +∎A derivative of yap, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ypai(-) +‘?’
+(362a8). +

+ + +
+

+ypoye* +(adj./n.) +(a) ‘prtng to [one's own] country’; (b) ‘ordinary citizen’
+[-, -, ypoye//ypoyi, -, -] +(a) lānte spaktāṃ ypoye pauśye añmants=ekñi kurpelle ‘he must concern himself with the service of the king, the tax of the country, and his own possession’ (33a6), po ypoyi ‘all the people of the country’ (33b4), alyek-ypoye kaṃtwa weṃ-ne ‘[if] he should speak in a foreign tongue’ (325b2); +
+(b) [tri]cemeṃ ypoyi ‘from the third [branch stem] the citizens of the country’ [contrasted with kings, nobles, monks, and animals; thus the "third estate"] (3a8). +∎A derivative of yapoy, q.v. +See -ypoyṣe*. +

+ + +
+

+-ypoyṣe* +(adj.) +‘pertaining to a [certain] country’
+[m: //ypoyṣi, -, -] +alyek-ypoyṣi brāhmaṇi ‘foreign brahmans’ (81b4). +∎A derivative of yapoy, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ymanār +‘?’
+/// ymanār wärttoṣṣi ñakti /// (364b7), [ymā]nar wesk̇/// (393b3). +‣Broomhead, presumably because he connects this word with ymiye ‘way,’ suggests ‘en route, under way’ for this word. See the discussion in Hilmarsson 1991b:164-166. +

+ + +
+

+ymassu +See īme. +

+ + +
+

+ymīye +(nf.) +‘way, path; station in life’
+[ymīye, -, yamai//-, -, ymaiṃ] +rīne ymai ‘the road into the city’ (32b4), mā ymiye = BHS agocara (251b4), pakwārona ymainne [tetemu] = BHS apāyeṣūpapanna (524b4), pälskoṣṣeṃ [lege: -ai] yamai kārsa ‘he will know the way of the spirit’ (622b3), wnolmi cmentär rano ette ymainne ‘creatures will be born again in low estates’ (K-7b2), yamai = BHS gatiṃ (U-7b4). +∎TchA yme and B ymīye reflect a PIE *h₁(e)imṇ + -eh_a-h₁en- (cf. Hilmarsson, 1986a:240, though details differ [and also P:293ff.; MA:487]). The similar kind of morphological extension is to be seen in kälmiye (< PIE *ḱlimṇ + *-i-h₁en-). +See also i-. +

+ + +
+

+ymetstse +See īme. +

+ + +
+

+yrīye +(nm.) +‘male sheep’
+[yriye, -, yari//yriṃ (< yriñ), -, -] +alyi yriṃ ‘uncastrated (?) rams’ (PK-LC-I.4 [Pinault, 1997:177]). +∎From PIE *werh₁en- [: Sanskrit uran- ‘sheep, ram,’ Avestan varən- ‘lamb,’ Greek arēn ‘lamb,’ Armenian gaṙn ‘lamb’ (P:1170; MA:511)] (Pinault, 1997:185-187). +

+ + +
+

+ylaṃśke* +(n.) +‘± young gazelle’
+[-, -, ylaṃśke//] +yal ylaṃśke [a meter of 4 X 17 syllables rhythm 6/6/5] (PK-AS-16.3b3 [Pinault, 1989:157]). +∎The diminutive of yal. +

+ + +
+

+ylāpar +‘?’
+/// ̇e klese ylāwar /// (475a2), (MQ-155a1 [K. T. Schmidt, 1986:640]). +

+ + +
+

+ylāre* +(adj.) +‘± limp, flaccid, weak [unable to stand]’
+[m: -, -, ylāre//] [f: ylārya, -, -//] +po kektseñmeṃ läkleñ syelme [pletka su no] ylāre kaklautkau tärraskemane rekisa Uttareṃ m[ñcu]ṣ[k]eṃ[ś] ‘from all [the king's] body sweat poured, turning weak, and crying out with a word to prince Uttara’ (85a2/3), tesa kātso malyakka mäsketär mā ylārya ‘thus the stomach becomes youthful [but] not flaccid’ (W-37b3). +∎TchA ylār and B ylāre reflect PTch *y(ä)lāre and, with VW (1970a:171, 1976:599, though details differ) is probably y- < *h₁en- + -lāre- < *l(o)h₁dro-, a derivative of *leh₁d- seen in Greek lēdeîn ‘be fatigued,’ Gothic lētan ‘let,’ Albanian lodhem ‘become tired’ (P:666). +See also lāl-. +

+ + +
+

+ylāwar +See ylāpar. +

+ + +
+

+Ylaiñäkte +(nm.) +‘Indra’
+[Ylaiñäkte, Ylaiñäktentse, Ylaiñäkte//-, Ylaiñäkteṃts, Ylaiñäkteṃ] +Ylaiñakte yakṣaṃñe weṣ memī[sku] ‘Indra, disguised as a yakṣa’ (99a5), poyśiṃñeṣṣepi Ylaiñäkteṃtse ‘of the all-knowing Indra’ (408a4/5). +‣As with all Tocharian divine names we have a compound whose second member is ñakte, q.v. + -- ylaiñäktäññe ‘prtng to Indra’ (TEB-55-22). +∎To be compared with TchA wlāñkät ‘id.’ B ylai- and A wlā- would reflect PTch *w'älā(i̯än)-, in turn from PIE *wel(h_x)eh_a-(h₁en)-. Possibly with VW (554, though differing in details) from *weleh_a- an agent noun meaning *‘Ruler’ and further compared with B walo/A wäl ‘king’ [: OCS velěti ‘order, commnad’]. Semantically more likely, given the connection with storms (see ylaiñeṣṣe), however, is a derivation from *welh₂-eh_a- ‘Smiter’ from *welh₂- ‘strike’ [: Hittite walh- ‘strike’ and perhaps, with s-extension, TchB wālts- ‘trample’]. The designation of the storm-god as the ‘smiter’ is paralleled in Balto-Slavic, e.g. Lithuanian Perkūnas and OCS Perunъ. +See ylaiñeṣṣe and also possibly walo or wālts-. +

+ + +
+

+ylaiñeṣṣe +(adj.) +‘pertaining to rain’
+[m: ylaiñeṣṣe, -, ylaiñeṣṣe//] +warpalñe mäkte yle/// [lege: ylaiñeṣṣe] [war] ‘enjoyment [is] like rain water’ (153a5), mit ylaiñeṣṣe warämpa=ṣe mā yokalle ‘honey together with rain water [is] not to be drunk’ (ST-b2). +∎Perhaps to be connected with Ylaiñäkte as a doubly derived adjective -ññe + -ṣṣe (cf. wriyeṣṣe ‘watery’) from the designation of the god in the pre-Buddhist Tocharian pantheon that was associated with the Indian Indra. The primary Indo-European god's association with sky, thunder, rain, etc., is well-known. Not with VW (1941:170, 1976:598) a derivative from a hypothetical *laiñe ‘rain.’ +See Ylaiñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+ywārc +‘half; in the midst; divided [in mind]’
+ywārc srukenträ ‘they die in the midst [of life]’ (2a1), abhijñänta dhyananma eroṣ eṃṣke ywārco tsälpoṣ saṃsārmeṃ ‘[those who] evoked the higher knowledges and meditations [are] at least half-saved from the saṃsāra’ (31a3), särwānā pälśy[eṃ y]w[ā]rc ‘[his] face blazed [in] the middle’ (394a2), pärkarñesa wi rsoñc ~ pañäktentse rasosa pkantesa śle ywārc ‘in length two spans, by the span of the Buddha, crosswise one and a half’ (H-149.X.4b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), kr_ui sāṅne yapi sklokacci śamāni ywārc mäskīyenträ ‘whenever he [scil. Nanda] entered the community, the monks would be doubtful and divided [in mind]’ (H-149.X.4b2 [ibid.]). + -- ywarc-īṣi ‘midnight’ (65b8); +
+ywarc-trau ‘half-trau’ (499a2); +
+ywarca-meñ ‘bimonthly’ [= BHS ardhamāsakam] (318b4), artsa ywarca-meñ ‘each half month’ (H-149.X.5a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎Etymology difficult. With Winter (1987:241) one should probably see a PIE *h₁en- ‘in’ + dw- ‘two’ + Tch -ār ‘distributive’ + -c the allative/dative marker (?). Thus ‘half’ would be ‘in between two groups’ (cf. Pedersen, 1941:246, VW:612-3). VW (1989:100-101), however, on the basis of ywārt-taś thinks the -c of ywārc can have nothing to do with the allative/ dative marker. See next four entries. +

+ + +
+

+ywarcār +(distributive numeral) +‘two (parts) each’
+[ingredients] +ywarcār traunta saṃtkenta /// (P-3b3). +∎Ywārc, q.v., + (distributive) -ār. +

+ + +
+

+ywārt-taś +(n.) +‘commander-of-the-center’ [as opposed to the commander of the mountain region]
+[ywārt-taś, -, -//] +ṣle-taśśäntse īkene [] ywārt-taś pinkäṃ ‘in the place of the mountain-commander, the commander-of-the-center writes’ (LP-3a1). +∎Ywārc + tāś. +See also ṣle-taś. +

+ + +
+

+ywārśka +(postp.) +‘in the middle of, between’
+ywārśkane ‘in the middle’ (30b7), ñ[ä]kciy[e] padūmne ywārcka kesārne cakkarwisa mittarwisa tsetskäñoṣ tañ ālīne (73b1=75a2). + -- ywārśkāññe (adj.) ‘middle’: ywārśkāññi pik_ulameṃ ‘those of middle years’ (2a5). +∎Ywārc, q.v. + -kā (cf. eneṃ and enenka). +

+ + +
+

+ywārtsa +([indeclinable] adj./n.) +‘half’
+ywārtsa tāna kwäñcītṣai kwäñcit yarm ‘a half a sesame-seed or a [whole] sesame seed in measure’ (41b4), nraiyntane cmenträ ywārtsa omte śaul śāyeṃ ‘[if] they are [re-]born in hells, they live there half a life’ (K-3a1), ywārtsa = BHS ardha- (Y-2a1). +∎Ywār(c) + -sā the ablative ending (?). Cf. Winter, 1987:241. +

+ + +
+

+yweṃṣke* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: -, -, yweṃṣkai//] +yweṃṣkai klauṣai (H-149.add.7a3 [H:144]). +‣Or is this a noun conjoined with klauṣai, also of unknown meaning? +

+ + +
+

+yweru +(n.) +‘swelling’
+[yweru, -, -//] +pkelñe yweru = BHS vipākaśotha- (Y-3a2). +∎Perhaps related to yoro ‘pimple,’ q.v., or reflecting a PIE *h₁en-wodṛ-went- ‘having fluid inside.’ +See also weru and perhaps yoro. +

+ + +
+

+yśāmna (~ iśāmna) +(adv.) +‘among men, people’
+[often used in contrast to yñakteṃ] +āyorsa śāte yñakteṃ yśāmna su tänmasträ ‘by [this] gift he is [re-]born among gods and men’ (23b4/5), [lwā]sa preteṃne yśāmna /// ‘among animals or pretas, among men’ (25a3). +∎From y- (< *h₁en ‘in, among’) + śāmna ‘people,’ q.v. +See Compare yñakteṃ, ynāñm, yneś, and ysomo. +

+ + +
+

+yśe +(interjection) +‘O’
+yśe lareñ nai pūrpat tā pelaikneṣṣai yokastai ‘O dear ones, enjoy then the nectar of the law!’ (231b2/3). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+yśelme +(n.) +‘[sexual] pleasure’
+[yśelme, -, -//yśelmi, yśelemeṃts, yśelmeṃ] +mā yśelmy [eṃṣ]k[e]cc[i] ‘the pleasures of the flesh [are] not lasting’ (8a1), ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ kwipe-īke ke_uwco kalltärr-ne ‘[if] sexual pleasure arises for a monk and his shame-place becomes erect’ (334a3/4), m[ā] yś[e]lm[e] = BHS agocara (H-149.289a1 [Thomas, 1968a:200]), ñäkcyenne yśelmenne = BHS divyeṣu kāmeṣu (H-149-ADD.105b3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:488]). + -- yśelmeṣṣe ‘sensual, prtng to [sexual] pleasure’: k_use tsälpoṣo kärkkāllemeṃ yśelmeṣṣe ‘whoever [is] freed from the slough/morass of sensuality’ (8a4), yśelmeṣṣe [= BHS kāma-] (8b3); +
+yśelmetstse ‘sensual, pleasurable’: yśelmetse śaiṣṣe ‘the world of [sensual] pleasure’ (41a5). +∎TchA *yśaläm (nom. pl. yśalmañ, acc. pl. yśalmas) and B yśelme reflect PTch *yśelme from a putative PIE *h_xiǵ^h-yo-lmo- built on the same verbal stem *h_xiǵ^h-ye/o- seen in Avestan izya- ‘crave, yearn for.’ The combination *-śy- seems to have simplified early in Proto-Tocharian cf. miśo ‘urine’ from *m(e)iǵ^hyōn-. More distantly it is related to Sanskrit īhate ‘strives for, wants,’ īhā- ‘desire’ (and Tocharian ykāsse, q.v.), Avestan īžā- ‘desire,’ and Greek îkhar ‘violent desire,’ all from a reduplicated present-stem, *h_xih_xiǵ^h-(e/o-) (P:14-15; MA:158). Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:148) and VW (609-10) also connect this word with Sanskrit īhā- but otherwise their argument is almost completely different. +See also ykāsse and perhaps yoko. +

+ + +
+

+yṣīye +(nf.) +‘night’
+[yṣīye, yṣintse, yaṣi//] +[mä]kte orocce lyamne orkamotsai yaṣine meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña ‘as in a great sea in the dark night the light of moon and stars [is]’ (154b2), seṃ ṣamāne yaka yaṣisa lānte kercyenne yaṃ ... pāyti ‘whatever monk still goes to the palace of the king by night, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]), pärweṣṣe yaṣi = BHS prathamāṃ rātriṃ (H-149.152,7 (Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:485]). + -- -yaṣi: kauṃ-yaṣi ‘day and night’ (15a6=17a7), ywārc-īṣi ‘[at] midnight’ (65b8); +
+yṣiṣṣe ‘prtng to (a) night’: sankameṃ śtvārka yṣiṣṣe plāki yaskaskemar parna simtsa yatsi ‘of the community I ask permission to go for forty nights outside the border’ (H-149-ADD.19b5 [Thomas, 1954:737]); +
+yṣiññe ‘prtng to night’: /// yṣiñe cokiś ṣalywe ‘oil for the night lamp’ (451a2). +∎TchA wṣe and B yṣīye reflect PTch *w'äṣi- (with the TchA transferred, as so often to the *-eh_a-h₁en- stems). The Tocharian forms are derivatives of a PIE verb *h₂wes- ‘stay, remain (the night)’ [: Sanskrit vásati ‘stays, dwells, spends the night,’ Av. vaṅhaiti ‘stays, dwells,’ Greek (aor.) áesa (núkta) ‘spent (the night),’ Old Irish fóaid (< *h₂woseti) ‘stays, dwells, watches in the night, sleeps (with a woman),’ Gothic wisan ‘remains, is,’ Hittite hwis- ‘live’ (cf. P:1170-1; MA:171)] (Feist, 1913, VW:584-5). Alternatively Hilmarsson (1989a:91) takes yṣiye/wṣe to be from PIE *h₂wes-en-, pre-Tch *h₂wes-en-en- (> *w'äṣäñe(n) > *w'äṣäye). This *h₂wes-en- would be related to Sanskrit uṣr- ‘dawn’ and vasat-han- ‘in der Frühe schlagend.’ However, the semantic equation would not appear to be as strong as VW's (is there any attested parallel to *‘dawn’ > ‘night’?). +See also wäs-². +

+ + +
+

+yṣuwar +([indeclinable] adj./n.) +‘friendly; friendliness’
+kos twe yṣwar tāka[t] ‘as long as thou art friendly’ (46a7), Āryawarmeṃ tsamo yṣuwarsa prekṣäṃ ‘A., with much friendliness, asks’ (492a1). +∎Etymology obscure. Semantically attractive is VW's connection (609) with waṣamo ‘friend’ but the morphological shape is not clear. +

+ + +
+

+yṣwarka +(adv.) +‘in a friendly fashion’
+[pre]kar-n=iṣwarka ‘they asked him in a friendly fashion’ (22b6), /// yapoy iṣwarka [sic] (234b4). + -- yṣwarkaññe ‘welfare, prosperity, happiness’: yṣwarkaññe = BHS śivam (14a7), k_utameṃ tākoy emparkre yṣūwa[r]kañe po wnolmeṃts ‘whence would be broadly the welfare of all beings’ (PK-AS-16.3a3 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎A derivative of yṣuwar, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ysañiye +(adj.) +‘golden’
+[m: ysañiye, -, -//] +śānta warkāre ysañiye yok tāka ‘they sheared the sheep; golden was the wool’ (452a1). +∎A derivative of yasa. +See also the variant ysāññe, s.v. yasa. +

+ + +
+

+ysapar(sa) +(adv.) +‘near by’
+ysaparsa yey āśirvāt weṣṣi teṃ epinktene sā_u onko[rñai] päs pyautka ‘he went nearby and said a blessing; meanwhile she finished the porridge’ (107a3), /// po ysapar /// (572.2), [i]saparsa (580b5). +See ysape. +

+ + +
+

+ysape +(adv.) +‘near by’
+kr_ui nke cai täṅwaṃñeñcä ot nke ñiś ysape ykāk källāt (78a3), kaklāyāṣṣäṃ [sic] läklene mā säk kälṣäṃ isäpe akṛtajñe śaumo rā mā su lkāträ ñyatsene (255a3). +∎A derivative of spe, y- (< *h₁en-) + spe. +See also ysaparsa. +

+ + +
+

+ysamo +(adv.) +‘altogether, totally, as one’
+[= ysomo] +ysamo yarponta[t]s /// (294a1), ///-lle ākāl [sic] täñ ysamo /// (343b6). +∎TchA ysamo borrowed from B. AB ysamo is y- ‘in’ + sämo, a cross between the acc. sg. *sänā and the acc. sg. *semo (Hilmarsson, 1986:93). +See ysomo; also yñakteṃ, yneś, etc. +

+ + +
+

+ysalye +(n.) +‘discord’
+[ysalye, -, ysaly//] +ṣemi ysaly=erṣyentär [] tanāpatentsa ostwasa ekñintasa entseño mäntañyentär ‘some [monks] evoked discord; out of envy they reproached one another concerning patrons, houses and possessions’ (31b7), tusa ysaly=ersate ‘thus discord arose’ (496a5/6). +∎TchA yäslyi and B ysalye reflect PTch *yäslyi- (as if) from PIE *h₁ens-l-ih₁en- [: particularly Avestan aṅra- ‘hostile, inimical,’ also ąsta- ‘hate, hostility’] (VW, 1941:168-9, 1976:595, though details differ). TchA yäslu ‘enemy’ is from the same stem, perhaps from *h₁ens-lo- (= Avestan aṅra-), influenced in its ending by the antonym naṣu ‘friend.’ +

+ + +
+

+ysāre +(nm./nf.) +‘grain;’ perhaps ‘wheat’
+[ysāre, -, ysāre//] +///-llenta kenmeṃ oko ysāre kälwā[wa] /// ‘I got from the earth fruit and grain’ (476a2), Kotile yap cakanma 3 | Wrauśke ysāre cakanma 2 ‘K. [gave] 3 cāks millet; W. [gave] 2 cāks wheat’ (491b1), ysāre rine plyasi [lege: plyaṅsi] wāya Tonke ṣarmire śak cakanma ‘the novice Tonka took ten cāks of grain to the city to sell’ (Otani-018,9 [Couvreur, 1954c:90]). +‣In some cases (476-480) it would appear that ysāre is a general term, i.e. ‘grain,’ opposed to oko ‘fruit.’ In other cases it is clear that ysāre is a specific grain, perhaps ‘wheat,’ as opposed to yap ‘millet.’ + -- ysārñe* ‘prtng to wheat, wheaten’: ysārña yäkṣiye ‘wheaten flour’ (W-37b1). +∎TchA wsār ‘(heap of) grain’ and B ysāre ‘grain; wheat’ reflect PTch *w'äsāre. Implicitly taking the Tocharian A meaning as the more original, VW (1961a:97-8, 1976:584) connects the Tocharian words to such possible relatives as Russian vorokh ‘heap of grain’ or Latvian vārsmis ‘heap of beaten grain.’ His explanation involves the assumption of a dissimilation from a pre-Tocharian *wers-ōr-o- to *wes-ōr-o- (P:1169; MA:581). It may be, however, that TchB preserves the older meaning, one where ysāre referred in the first instance to a particular kind of grain. If so, perhaps we have PIE *h_aweseh_a-ro- ‘golden’ used as the designation of a particular grain (cf. the relationship between English wheat and white). For the latter etymology, see Adams (1984c:396) though the connection there with Latin avēna ‘oats’ is, as Huld suggests (1990:404), to be rejected on semantic grounds: "oats were not human food and largely occurred as a weed in barley, hence the shift to ‘wheat’ is semantically unlikely." Huld suggests the possibility of seeing *wesōro- as a derivative of *wesaro- ‘spring,’ a reference to a seasonal variety of wheat (Huld, 1990:420, fn. 15). +See also possibly yasa. +

+ + +
+

+Ysāṣṣa-pyāpyo +(n.) +‘Suvarṇapuṣpa’ (PN of a king)
+[Ysāṣṣa-pyāpyo, -, -//] +(416a2). +‣The fully Tocharian equivalent of the borrowed Svarnabuṣpe, the name of the Kuchean king whose name and title are given in BHS documents as kucīśvara Suvarṇapuṣpa ‘S., lord of Kucha.’ He must have died in AD 624 as that is when Chinese records speak of the accession of his son, Suvarṇadeva. +∎Ysāṣṣe ‘golden’ + pyāpyo ‘flower,’ qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+ysāṣṣe +See yasa. +

+ + +
+

+ysomo +(adv./prep.) +‘altogether, as one, totally, collectively’ [ysomo we- ‘sing in chorus’]
+po yso[mo sankantse rekisa] ‘according to the word of the whole community collectively’ (42a4), ysomo w[entsi] = BHS saṃgātuṃ (531b2), śīlaṣṣana sälyeṃno prākre ysomo eñcīmar ‘may I grasp together firmly the bounds of moral behavior!’ (S-4a3), āya ompalskoṣṣe mrestīwe pakṣäṃ ysomo ‘he cooks the bone of meditation together with the marrow’ (S-4b1). +∎TchA ysomo is borrowed from B (Winter, 1963:274). We have here y- + somo, in Indo-European terms, *h₁en- + *somh_xeh_am (Hilmarsson, 1986a:93; differing in details, VW:608 and Jasanoff, 1978:32). +See also ysamo; also yñakteṃ, ynāñm, yneś, and yśāmna. +

+ + +
+

+ra +(conj.) +‘also; like’ [mā ra = ‘neither...nor’]
+ra = BHS ca (2a4), ra = BHS api (8a1), mā nesn āyor mā ra telki ‘there is no gift, neither [is there] sacrifice’ (23b4), [ke]t ra śaulassu ‘whoever [is] venerable’ (26a5), mā tn=onuwaññe śāya nauṣ mā ra śaiṃ ksa t=ompostäṃ ‘he did not live here immortally earlier, neither will anyone live [immortally] hereafter’ (45a5), grahanman[e] m[e]ñe ra ṣpäk tāsātai ‘thou has set thyself more as the moon [is set] among the planets’ (221b1), wärsa plewe ra ken mai[wāte] ‘like a boat on the water the earth shakes’ (338b1), te ñiś yāmu tam ra yāmu ‘this I [am to] make, also that I [will] make’ (AMB-b1), empelona ra yāmwa tākaṃ yāmornta ‘even [if] terrible deeds have been done’ (K-3b2), kau[ṣentai] ra sannaṃnne [sic] snai mīyäṣlñe ṣek tākoym ‘may I also be without harm among murderer[s] and enemies’ (S-6a6/b1), [in Manichean script] r’h (Gabain/Winter [1958:11)]). +‣For a full discussion of the semantics, see Thomas, 1968b. + -- -rāññe only in ket-rāññe ‘belonging to whomever’: keṃtsa t[ane ñiś lyakau] kotstseṃts parwa tat[w]ānkau mā ket rāññe ‘here I lie on the ground dressed in kotstse feathers not belonging to anyone’ (89a4); +
+ra-tsa ‘also’ [ra + strengthening particle tsa]: mā ra tsa yolain y[ā]m[o]r yamīträ ‘neither may he do an evil deed’ (128a1), tūsa yolaiñ cey ra tsa mäskenträ ‘thus these are truly evil deeds’ (K-7b5), päknāträ iñcew ra tsa elmi [lege: ekalmi] yāmtsi ‘[if] one intends to subjugate anyone whatever’ (M-1b7); +
+ra tsak ‘id.’: (79a5); +
+k_use-ra-tsa-ksa ‘who(m)ever, whatever’: ñäktets śamnantsä k_use ra tsa ksa śaiṣṣene ‘of gods or men or whoever [is] in the world’ (284b3/4). +∎(As if) from a PIE *r (cf. Greek ar, ára, rá, Lithuanian ir̃ ‘also’) + *ā or ē (Meillet, 1911:460, VW:400, though differing in details, MA:583). +See also rano and mantrākka. +

+ + +
+

+Raktadewe +(n.) +‘Raktadeva’ (PN in inscription)
+[Raktadewe, -, -//] +(G-Su18). +

+ + +
+

+raktapit* +(n.) +‘bile-blood’ [a particular disease]
+[-, raktapittäntse, -] +(497a7). +∎From BHS raktapitta-. +

+ + +
+

+rakṣatse +See rākṣatse. +

+ + +
+

+raktsi* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘covering; roof’
+[-, -, raktsi] +sankik raktsisa ‘a covering belonging to the community’ (H-149.X.4a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]), toṃ ykentameṃ räktsimeṃ lenameṃ /// ‘from these places, from the roof, from the cell’ (H-149-ADD.8a8 [Thomas, 1954:761]). +∎The infinitive of räk-, used as a noun. +

+ + +
+

+ratāṃ* +(n.) +‘precious substance’
+[//ratā(nä)nta, -, -] +(242a6, 553b5). +∎From BHS ratana-. +

+ + +
+

+ratisāyak* +(n.) +name of meter of 4 X 14 syllables (rhythm 7/7)
+[-, -, ratisāyak//] +(575a4). +

+ + +
+

+Ratna- +(n.) +‘Ratna-’ (PN)
+ce ypoyne Dharmasome Ratna/// (428b6). +

+ + +
+

+Ratnacuḍa +(n.) +‘Ratnacūḍā’ (PN)
+[Ratnacuḍa, -, -//] +(400a4). +

+ + +
+

+Ratnaśikhi +(n.) +‘Ratnaśikhin’ (PN of a buddha)
+[Ratnaśikhi, -, Ratnaśikhiṃ//] +(398a2, 400a5, Qumtura 34-g1). +

+ + +
+

+ratre +(adj.) +‘red’
+[m: ratre, -, rätreṃ//] [f: rtarya, -, -//-, -, rätrona] +wastsi tsenaṃ rätreṃ ‘blue and red clothes’ (118a1), rätrona koynuwa kakāyau pwārṣṣeṃ slemeṃmpa ‘gaping wide [his] mouths red with fiery flames’ (576a5), ratre krāke ‘red [i.e. bloody] stool’ (W-2a6). + -- rätrauñe ‘redness; inflammation’: paṇḍarauñe rätrauñene ‘in [cases of] jaundice or redness [of skin]’ (P-3a5), rätrauñe = BHS -rāga- (Y-3a2). +∎TchA rtär and B ratre reflect PTch *rätre from PIE *h₁rud^hró- [: Sanskrit rudhirá- ‘red, bloody,’ Greek eruthró- ‘red,’ Latin ruber ‘id.,’ Old Norse roδra (f.) ‘blood,’ Russian Church Slavonic rodrъ ‘red’ (P:872-973; MA:480-481)] (Meillet, 1911:148, VW:408). +

+ + +
+

+raddhi +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(supernatural) power, magic’
+[raddhi, -, raddhi//-, -, räddhinma] +raddhi lakäṣñeṣṣe pratihari (108b4), kwri no āñme tākaṃ-ne raddhisa yatsi war nässait yamaṣle iprerne pärsnālle raddhisa yaṃn ‘if someone has the desire to walk with magic powers he [is] to make a spell with water and [is] to sprinkle [it] in the air and he will walk with magic powers’ (M-3b6/7). + -- räddhiṣṣe* ‘prtng to magic, supernatural’: [pañäkte]ntse räddhiṣṣai mey[y]a[ntse] ‘of the Buddha's supernatural power’ (394b7); +
+räddhinmaṣṣe* ‘prtng to supernatural powers’ (73b4) +∎From BHS ṛddhi-. +

+ + +
+

+rano +(conj.) +(a) ‘also, in addition; even though’ [joins both clauses and independent sentences; (b) mā rano ‘neither ... nor’]; (c) with adjectives: ‘however’
+(a) ywārśkāññi pik_ulameṃ k_use rano maiwe[ño] ‘the middle in years and also [those] who [are] young’ (2a5), klīye rano trenksate rūpn=eṅwentse ‘the woman also took on the form of a man’ (9b4), rano = BHS api (11a6), = BHS nu (11a8), yesäñ rano po klautkentsa ṣek waikemeṃ klautkolle ‘in addition you [are] to stay away from a lie in all activities’ (19b5), [pi]ś prakāränta yaiku rano tākaṃ = BHS yāvat pañcaprakāraghnaḥ (198a2); +
+(b) te śārsa-me pudñäkt=ānaiśai mā ranw aiku kärsau ñy akalṣle ‘the Buddha announced this clearly: neither learned [person] nor well-known [is] my pupil’ (31a7/8), tā_u onkorñ[ai] srañciyeṃ tappre kauś yey mā no nta totka rano parna präntsitär ‘they boiled the gruel and it went high; however, not a bit of it spattered outside’ (107a1), mā māka lykwarwa mā rano ṣek-ṣek ‘not for many times, neither forever’ (K-6a3); +
+(c) lykaśke rano totka ra yāmornts=oko mā nakṣtär ‘however little or small, the result of the deed is not destroyed’ (S-3b2), lykaśkeṃ rano yolaiñe po prakäṣṣim ‘may I hold back all evil, however small’ (S-5a1). +‣Typically, but not exclusively, in the second place in a clause--sometimes as the second word, less commonly as the second syntactic element. + -- ranoṣṣe ‘?’: ñiś ranoṣṣe cmel ̇/// (101a5), tentse ranoṣṣe wes mā aṣāṃ// (515b7). +∎From ra + no, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+rapaññe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the last month of the year’
+[m: -, -, rapaññe//] +rapaññe meṃne ikäṃ-wine ‘on the second of the month of rapaññe’ (LP- 12a2). +∎The adjective rapaññe presupposes an underlying noun *rāp. The latter is a borrowing from Middle Chinese lâp ‘winter sacrifice,’ a designation for the twelfth Chinese month. The phonological equation is particularly close when we remember that Middle Chinese *l- is reconstructed as *r- in somewhat earlier stages of Chinese. +

+ + +
+

+ram no +See ramt. +

+ + +
+

+ramer +(adv.) +‘quickly, suddenly’
+mā rmer sāṃtke nesalle ‘there was to be no quick remedy [for him]’ (18b4), ramer = BHS kṣipraṃ (306b8), ipprerne rmer ka plyewsa ‘he soared very suddenly in the air’ (386a4), ramer = BHS pratiyaty eva (541a2), rämermer = BHS laghu laghveva (PK-NS-12b5 [Couvreur, 1967[1969]:153]). +∎Probably with Winter (1962a:30) and VW (401) we have here a derivative of PIE *drem- ‘run’ [: Sanskrit drámati ‘runs,’ Greek (aorist) édramon ‘ran,’ etc. (P:204-5; MA:491)]. Also possible is a derivative *dru-mor- (< *dreu- ‘run,’ P:205) (Normier, 1980:261). +

+ + +
+

+ram(t)/rām(tä)/ +(conj.) +‘like, as; as if; as it were; likewise’
+klautso ramt onkolmantse ‘like an elephant's ear’ (3b4), ṣalesa stmau ramt tākaṃ kentsa [stmoṣ]äṃ = BHS parvatasthaiva bhūmisthāṃ (12a7), prere ramtä kekarṣṣu ‘as [fast] as a shot arrow’ (14b4), te ramt śārsa ‘this likewise he informed them’ (23a3/4), katkomñaisa arañce pluṣā-ne ram ‘with joy his heart soared as it were’ (375b4), [in Manichean script] r’m (Gabain/Winter [1958:11]). +‣For a full discussion of the semantics, see Thomas, 1968b. + -- ram-no ‘like, as if’: tallāw ram no śem ñi ypoyne ‘as one suffering he came to my kingdom’ (93b5), mentsiṣṣe samudtärne pluṣäṃ ram no ‘he floats as if on an ocean of suffering’ (282b3), pelaiknentse pernesa atyai ram no riñīmar āś ‘may I, like the grass, for the sake of the law abandon [my] head’ (S-8a4). +∎Presumably a combination of enclitics: rā + -m(ä) (as in the TchA pronoun sam, etc.?) + -tä. For the putative *-mä- one might compare Hittite -ma, imma, Latin immō (= Hittite imma), Lycian me (Melchert, p.c.). Otherwise VW (402) who takes it as a derivative of *ar- ‘join, attach.’ +See also rām-. +

+ + +
+

+raśce +‘?’
+///kti [] raśce [] ari []/// (550.a2). +

+ + +
+

+rasaṃcanaṃ ~ rasecanaṃ +(n.) +‘a vitriol of copper or a sort of collyrium prepared from it by the addition of Curcuma’ (a medical ingredient)
+[rasaṃcaṃ ~ rasecanaṃ, -, -//] +(W-18b1, W-21a3). +∎From BHS rasāñjana-. +

+ + +
+

+raso +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘span’
+[raso, -, raso/rsoñc, -, -/rsonta, -, -] +prāri raso pokai wat lauke ykuwa ‘come out a finger's span or an arm's [span]’ (41b4/5), watkaṣṣi pi pañäkte niṣīdaṃ ñremeṃ kälymi raso tsamtsi ‘may the Buddha order the sitting mat to be made one measure greater from the direction of the fringe’ (H-149.X.4a6 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). +∎A derivative of räs-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+rasna +See rāsnā. +

+ + +
+

+rahasyālankār* +the name of a work (?)
+[-, -, rahasyālankār//] +(593a3). +

+ + +
+

+rākṣatse* +(nm.) +‘(malevolent) demon’
+[//-, rakṣatseṃts, rakṣatseṃ] +(85a2). +∎From BHS rākṣasa-. +

+ + +
+

+rānk* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘theater’
+[-, -, rānk//] +kercciyeṃṣṣe yaknesa yaitoṣ rānkne y[aipormeṃ] am[āc] ‘the minister having entered the theater decorated in the fashion of a palace’ (520b4). +∎From BHS ranga-. +See also ränk-. +

+ + +
+

+Rājagri* +(nf.) +‘Rājagṛha’ (PN of capital of Magadha)
+[-, -, Rājagri//] +(23b3). + -- rājagriṣṣe ‘prtng to R.’: śāmna rājagriṣṣi ‘the people of R.’ (408a2). +

+ + +
+

+Rājabhadre +‘Rājabhadhra’ (PN?)
+(507a3). +

+ + +
+

+rājavärkṣä +(n.) +‘Cassia fistula Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[rājavärkṣ -, -//] +(M-3a6). +∎From BHS rājavṛkṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+rājawat-yok +(adj.) +‘indigo/turquoise-like’
+[m: rājavat-yok, -, -//] [f: rājavat-yokäññana, -, -] +ysā-yokäññana rājawat-yo[käññana] (74a1=75b4), rājavat-yok matsi cwimp ‘his indigo hair’ (91b6). +∎From BHS rājapaṭṭa- ‘a kind of blue dye’ (Edgerton), either indigo, azurite, or turquoise, + TchB -yok. +

+ + +
+

+rājasa(-) +‘?’
+posa noṣ rājasa/// (547a1). +

+ + +
+

+rājarṣi +(n.) +‘royal ṛṣi, royal seer’
+[rājarṣi, -, -//] +(108b2). +∎From BHS rājarṣi-. +

+ + +
+

+rānme +(nf.) +a medical ingredient
+[rānme, -, -//] +tumeṃ motstsa rānme päkṣalya (W-12b4). +

+ + +
+

+rāp- +(vi.) +‘dig, turn up the soil, plow’
+Ps. VI /rāpnā-/ [A -, -, rapanaṃ//]; Ko. V /rāpā-/ (stress pattern uncertain) [AOpt. -, -, rāpoy//; Inf. rāpatsi] +se ṣamāne ṣañṣarsa keṃ rapanaṃ rāpatsi wat watkäṣṣäṃ pāyti ‘whatever monk digs with his own hand or orders [another] to dig: pāyti’ (TEB-65-3); kr_ui rāpo[_i] = BHS sacet khanet (H-149.112a3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:493]). + -- rapālñe (n.) ‘plowing’: mīṣe rapālñe ... mīṣene lāṃs ‘plowing in the field ... working in the field’ (PK-NS-53-a5 [Pinault, 1988]). +∎TchA räp- and B rāp- reflect PTch *räp-/rāp(n)ā-, from PIE *drep- ‘scratch, tear’ [: Hittite teripp- ‘turn the earth, plow,’ Hieroglyphic Luvian tarrappunas ‘of plowing’ (< Proto-Anatolian *terep- < *trep-), Russian drjápat' ‘scratch, tear,’ Serbo-Croatian drápati ‘tear up, wear down,’ Greek drépō ‘pluck’ (MA:567)]. The semantic equation of Tocharian and Anatolian is remarkable. Not with VW (403) from *reu- ‘pull out’ since a (PIE) intervocalic *-w- should not appear as Tocharian -p-. +

+ + +
+

+rām- +(vi.) +‘compare’
+Pt. Ib /rāmā-/ [MP -, -, rāmate//] +toyna ṣotruna śāstärmpaṣe rāmate istak śarsa ‘he compared these signs with the śastra and suddenly he knew’ (107a2). +∎A denominative of some sort to ram(t), q.v. Otherwise VW (402) who takes both rām- and ram(t) as derivatives of *h_aer- ‘attach.’ +

+ + +
+

+Rāme +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Rāma’ (PN)
+[Rāme, -, -//] +(K-12a5). +

+ + +
+

+rāsnā +(n.) +‘Vanda Roxburghii R. Br.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[rāsnā, -, -//] +(500a8, W-23b4). +∎From BHS rāsnā-. +

+ + +
+

+Rāhu +(n.) +‘Rāhu’ (PN of a demon)
+[Rāhu, -, -//] +(76b2). +

+ + +
+

+Rāhule +(n.) +‘Rāhula’ (PN of the Buddha's son)
+[Rāhule, -, Rāhuleṃ//] +(95a2). +

+ + +
+

+räk- +(vt.) +‘extend (over), cover’
+G Ko. V /rākā-/ [MP //-, -, rākoyentär]; PP /rārākā-/; +
+K Ps. VIII /räks^'ä/_e-/ [A raksau, -, -//; MPPart. räksemane]; Ko. II /räk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, raśäṃ//; Inf. raktsi]; Pt. III /rek(sā)- ~ räksā-/ [A rakwa, -, reksa//; MP raksamai, -, raksate//]; PP /reräko-/ +[ke]ktseñi rākoyentär-ñ painene po pūdñäkteṃts ‘[their] bodies were extended toward me to the feet of the buddhas’ (271a1); ///cce śaiṣṣene rarākau /// (565a5); saswa ... po tränkonta tärkaucai ... ciś yak raksau alyine ‘O Lord, releaser of all sins, to thee still I extend [my] palms’ (TEB- 64-3); [ā]lyine räksemane weṣṣäṃ ‘extending [his] palms, he speaks’ (370b3); koṣko rāśäṃ [lege: raśäṃ] tarśītse tsätko tsätkwaṃ enkästrä (255a4), inte ñiś su kṣātre po saṃsārsa rā[śäṃ] ‘if thy umbrella covers me in every saṃsāra’ (567a3); /// räkwā ike postäṃ lekine (339a6), pakwāre tū reksa-me ‘it covered their evil’ (12b3); räksāmai k_uce ñäś ṣä[p] /// (339b6); [lkā]ṣäṃ-me kaumeṃtsa rera[koṣäṃ] ‘he sees them covered with shoots’ (563b8). +∎AB räk- reflect PTch *räk- from PIE *h₃reǵ- ‘extend (linearly or over a surface)’ [: Sanskrit ṛjyati ‘extends oneself,’ Avestan raz- ‘put in order,’ Greek orégō ‘reach, stretch (out),’ Latin regō ‘put in order,’ Old Irish reg- ‘stretch out (the hand),’ OE reċċan ‘stretch out, reach,’ Hittite harg(a)nāu- ‘palm, sole’ (Melchert, 1987[89]:21-22), etc. (cf. P:854-7; MA:187)] (Meillet apud Lévi in Hoernle, 1916:382, VW:402). +See also raktsi. +

+ + +
+

+Räknāśka +(n.) +‘Räknāśka’ (PN of a nun)
+[Räknāśka, -, -//] +(596a2). +

+ + +
+

+ränk- +(vt.) +G ‘rise above, ascend, mount’ K ‘climb, ascend; take control of’
+G Ps. V or VI /ränk(n)ā-/ [A -, -, rank(n)aṃ//]; Ko. V /ränkā-/ [Inf. rankatsi; Ger. rankalle]; Pt. Ia /ränkā-/ [//-, rankas, rankare]; PP /ränko-/; +
+K Ps. VIII /ränks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, rankṣäṃ//; Ger. ränkṣalle]; Ko. I /ränk-/ [Inf. ranktsi]; Pt. III /renk(sā)-/ [//-, -, renkare] +yayātaṣ wälo [rank(n)a]n = BHS dāntaṃ rājādhirohati (310a3); [ñäkciye] śaiṣṣene se ñake ränkatsi ‘this one [is] to ascend now in the divine world’ (119b2), ṣale tapre Murtaṣe olank nai nke rankatsi (554b5); /// ṣaleṃ rankal ̇e /// ‘[he is] to climb the mountains’ (355a6); mā su ksa l[i]pa rankas [l]āṃte kokalene] ‘nothing remained; you climbed into the king's wagon’ [?] (46b5), ränkār[e] (395.1a1); udai-ṣälesa ränkau ramt ‘as if having ascended the udaya-mountain’ (Thomas, 1968b:214); [o]lyapo rankṣäṃ watkäṣäṃ wat [rankts]i s[ū] ṣamāne pā[yti tranko kättankäṃ] ‘(if) the monk takes control of more or orders [another] to take control [of more], he commits a pāyti-sin’ (unpubl. Berlin-a3 [Thomas, 1987a:170]); [rä]nkṣalle = BHS adhiṣṭhāvyāḥ (H-149.333a4 [Thomas, 1987a:177]); cimpyāsta-ṃñ apāyntameṃ kauc raṃktsi ‘thou hast enabled me to climb out of evil rebirths’ (238b3). + -- ränkormeṃ: aiśamñeṣṣe ränkormeṃ stānkne ‘having ascended to the palace of wisdom’ +∎From PIE *reng- ‘raise’ otherwise seen only in Indo-Iranian. In Sanskrit we have ranga- ‘stage’ (< *‘raised platform,’ see also TchB rānk) and in Khotanese we find rraṃga- ‘bank, ridge, shore.’ The Indo-Iranian *ranga- may have meant ‘elevated piece of ground’ (for the Indo-Iranian, see Emmerick and Skjärvo/, 1987:122-3, based on a suggestion of T. Burrow). Otherwise VW (1966b:498, 1976:403) who sees the Tocharian form as reflecting PIE *renk-, the nasalized equivalent of *rek- seen in Middle High German regen ‘raise (oneself).’ +See also ränkāñi. +

+ + +
+

+ränkāñi +(n.) +‘± foundation (of a building); platform’ [?]
+[ränkāñi, -, -//] +āyor sāle śīl ränkāñi takarṣkñe no ṣarm okone perākñe tanmṣäṃ ‘the gift [is] the basis; moral behavior [is] the foundation; faith, however, causes belief to grow in cause and effect’ (23a5). +‣The meaning ‘seasoning’ tentatively suggested by Sieg and Siegling (1949) was prompted by its association with sāle which they mistook for a form of salyiye ‘salt.’ The meaning suggested here is also based on the association with sāle more correctly defined as ‘ground, basis.’ +∎If the meaning is correct, perhaps we have a derivative of ränk- ‘rise, ascend,’ q.v. One should compare Khotanese rraṃga- ‘bank, ridge, shore’ or Sanskrit ranga- ‘stage.’ The original meaning might have been ‘raised platform (for a foundation).’ +

+ + +
+

+rätipat* +(n.) +‘ṛddhipāda (one of the four elements of supernatural power)’
+[//rätipanta, -, -] +(553b4). +∎From BHS ṛddhipāda-. +

+ + +
+

+rätk- +(vi.) +‘± heal’
+Ps. VII /rättänk-/ [A //-, -, rättankeṃ]; PP /rätko-/ +apsāltsa yāmu pīle kektseṃne curṇanmasa ṣälypentasa nano mīsa rättankeṃ ‘wounded in the body by a sword, with powders and salves [his] flesh heals again’ (17b3); rätkau pīle ra ṣek warpalñe (PK-NS-53-b5 [Pinault, 1988]). +‣TchB rätk- ‘heal’ is to be equated with A rätk- ‘heal,’ attested only in the preterite participle rarätku (A-299a2: kuśalamūlyo rätku ‘healed with a healing root’ and A-75b4: /// rarätku ... säm wsom pär ///). AB rätk- is not to be directly equated with A ritk- ‘cause to arise, raise’ whose preterite participle raritku is attested as the equivalent of BHS udbhūta-. +∎However, AB rätk- ‘heal’ and A ritk- ‘raise, produce’ are no doubt etymologically related and are perhaps from a PIE *r(e)id^h-sḱe/o- from *reid^h- ‘travel, be in movement’ [: English ride, Middle Irish ríad(a)im ‘travel,’ Latvian raidīt ‘send quickly, hasten,’ and especially (for the meaning) Gothic garaidjan ‘put in order, establish, make ready’ (P:861)]. Cf. VW:406 who sees this word as a derivative of PIE *rei- ‘put in motion’ but makes no mention of the élargissement *-d^h-. +

+ + +
+

+rätkware +(adj.) +‘strong, severe, excessive’
+[m: rätkware, -, -//] +rätkwre-enkäl = BHS tīvrarāgasya (8b6), kwipeññenträ ... rätkware ṣpä ceṃts näno näno onmiṃ tākaṃ kwri ‘they are ashamed ... and if remorse is ever and again very severe to them’ (K-3a5). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (1973a:152-3, 1976:404) who connects it with Greek árdis ‘point of a spear, needle,’ Old Irish aird ‘point.’ +

+ + +
+

+rätrauñe +See ratre. +

+ + +
+

+räm- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘bend (away), deflect; bow [as a sign of honor]’
+G Ps. VI /rämnā-/ [AImpf. //-, -, rämnoyeṃ]; Ko. V /rämā-/ [AOpt. //-, -, ramoṃ; MP //-, -, rmāntär; MPOpt. -, -, rmoytär ~ ramoytär//]; Pt. Ia /rämā-/ [MP -, -, rämāte//]. +
+K Ko. I /räm-/ +ñakty=āñcāl-ṣarne keṃ ññi rämnoyeṃ ‘the gods, folding their hands, bow to the earth for me’ (246a2/3); ostä-ṣmeñcaṃ ostmeṃ ltuweṣ ñi ka yarke yāmyeṃ ṣek mā=lyekepi keṃ ramoṃ ‘householders and [those who have] left the house should only to me do honor for ever and not to another bow to the earth’ (33b4); ce pi śaiṣṣe ālyinträ ñyātse kwipe rmantär (255b7), srukor aiśaumyepi olypo [ri]toyt[ä]r päst mā kwīpe rmoytär ‘by a wise man may death be sought rather [than] he not deflect shame’ (81a3/4); rämtä/// [or does this belong under ramt?] (365b4). +∎Etymology uncertain. The meaning of AB räm- makes the usual equation of this word (P:864, VW:402) with PIE *rem- ‘make quiet; support’ very difficult, though it is morphologically attractive (cf. Sanskrit ramṇā-). Melchert suggests (p.c.) reasonably that an original *nṃneh_a-, a nā-present to *nem- ‘bend,’ might have given PTch rämnā- by dissimilation (he compares the similar treatment of Hittite lāman ‘name’ and lammar ‘number’) (MA:63). +See also rmamñe and possibly näm-. +

+ + +
+

+räṣabhak +(n.) +‘Carpopogon pruriens Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[räṣabhak ~ räṣapak, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS ṛṣabhaka- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+räs-¹ +(vt.) +‘stretch (out) [the arms]’
+Ps. V /räsā-/ [A -, -, rasaṃ//]? or Ps. XII /räsäññ-/ [A -, -, rsaṃ//]? +tusa rsaṃ musnāträ [mäl]kaṣṣäṃ ‘thus he stretches out, raises up, and folds (?) [his] arms’ (119a2). +‣In TchA also the only object attested is ‘arms.’ The TchB present is usually taken to be a Class V present with rsaṃ instead of *rasaṃ for metrical reasons. However, the attested TchA imperfect räsñā presupposes a Class VI present *räsnā-. Since Class VI presents and Class XII presents can co-occur in Tch (cf. B mäntnā- and mäntäññ- is is also possible, perhaps preferable, to take rsaṃ as a phonologically regular Class XII present. +∎AB räs- reflects PTch *räs- but extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. VW (403) takes it to be from PIE *dres- and related to Old Norse tarra ‘spread [the arms] in a challenging fashion’ (< *dors-éh_a-), terra ‘id.,’ tyrrinn ‘irritated,’ dialectal Norwegian tarra ‘bristle,’ Middle Dutch terren ‘torment, vex,’ Middle Low German terren ‘irritate.’ However, the central meaning of the Germanic word seems to be ‘irritate’ rather than ‘spread.’ Perhaps we have *ru-s-, an élargissement with -s- of the same *reu- ‘open’ reflected in ru-¹. The meaning would then be something on the order of ‘open wide.’ +See also raso and possibly ru-¹. +

+ + +
+

+räs-² +(vt.) +‘± criticize, accuse, object to’
+Ps. IX /räsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. rsaṣṣälle] +[wi] täryā rsäṣṣä[lle] = Pali dvittikkhattuṃ codetabbo (316a4). +∎Perhaps to be connected with Sanskrit ruṣ- ‘hurt, be displeased with, be angry at, irritate’ with cognates also in Germanic (Mayrhofer, 1976:81; cf. MA:125). The meaning given here, rather than ‘hasten, incite’ that is usually imputed, is virtually assured by the Pāli equivalent and largely rules out the usual derivation from *h₁er- ‘put in motion’ (VW, 1973a:152-3, 1976:403-4). +

+ + +
+

+räser +See rser. +

+ + +
+

+räsk- +(vt.) +‘± increase’
+Ps. IX /räskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. räskaṣṣälle] +toyä saṃtkenta räskaṣlona [reading after Couvreur, 1954c:84] = BHS bhāgottaraṃ ‘these remedies [are] to be [successively] increased’ (Y-1b4). +‣For the meaning, see the discussion of the analogous Khotanese byāñä in Emmerick (1980). +∎Perhaps a Tocharian causative based on the PIE *re-sḱe/o- seen in Old Persian rasatiy ‘comes, obtains’ (cf. P:327). Semantically the Tocharian would be *‘cause to come up, obtain more.’ +

+ + +
+

+räskare* +(adj./adv.) +‘rough(ly), violent(ly), bitterly’
+[m: -, -, räskare//] [f: //räskarona, -, -] +laursa eñcwaññe tarne räskre tsopyeṃ-ne ‘with an iron rod they violently pierced his skull’ (22b5), kärwāṣṣai witsakaisa räskare tsopaṃ-ne ‘they poke him roughly with a cane root’ (88a1), keṃ miwäṃ räskre ‘the ground shakes violently’ (113a4), [ostmeṃ] lalñeṣṣe akālk räskre tsänkā-ne ‘the wish to leave the house [i.e. become a monk] arose strongly to him’ (372b2), räskarona matrona stāna ṣpä mäskenträ ‘the trees become bitter and sharp[-tasting]’ (K-8b6). +∎Etymology uncertain. TchA räskär and B räskare reflect PTch *räskäre which may be from PIE *h₁resk-, in apophonic relationship with *h₁ersk- seen in Lithuanian erškẽtis ‘thorn, thornbush,’ Slovenian rẹ̃šek ‘Gänsedistel’ (VW, 1973a:152-3, 1976:404). Semantically less plausible is Normier's suggestion (1980:256) of a connection (as if from PIE *h₁ruǵ-sḱó-) with PIE *h₁reuǵ- ‘belch, vomit’ [: Greek ereúgomai ‘vomit,’ Latin ērūgō ‘eructate,’ Lithuanian rjáugmi ‘belch,’ etc. (P:871-2)]. +

+ + +
+

+räskarñe +(adj.?) +‘?’
+tärppāl räskarñe eñcuwañe kentse onkolmaññe ānkär te ṣeme yarm (W-31b1). +‣In form this word looks to be a derivative of räskare*. +

+ + +
+

+räss- +(vt.) +‘tear out/off (without reaching beneath the surface), pick [of flowers or fruit]’
+Ps. II /räss^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, raṣṣäṃ//; AImpf. //-, -, räṣṣiyeṃ; MPImpf. //-, -, räṣyentär]; Pt. Ia /rässā-/ [A //-, -, rässāre] +räṣṣiṃ [< -äṃ] yetse śīlaṣṣe aiśamñeṣṣeṃ mīsa po karsnaṃ lykaśke ‘it tears off the skin of good behavior; it cuts fine the flesh of wisdom’ (S-4b1), [klo]yonträ no ponta räṣyenträ ‘also they [scil. fruit] fall or are plucked off’ (1b3=2a8); uppālnta rässāre ‘they picked the lotuses’ (589b2). +‣To be compared semantically are ²ru- ‘pull out (from beneath the surface),’ and mlut- ‘pluck (as of hair or feathers).’ +∎TchA rsu- and B räss- reflect PTch *räsw- from PIE *(h_x)r(e)us- + -w-. One should compare particularly the dialectal Norwegian rosa ‘scratch, remove skin’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:181, and cf. P:870-1). Otherwise VW:404 (< *dres-). +

+ + +
+

+rink- +(vt.) +‘± apply’ (?)
+Ko. V /rinkā-/ [Inf. rinkatsi] +malkwersa trīwäṣallya ṣpakīye pilkwersa rinkatsi sā ṣpakīye ‘the poultice [is] to be mixed with milk; this poultice to be applied with a pilkwer’ (W-39b1). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+riññäkte* +(n.) +a meter of 10/11/10/11 syllables (rhythm a/c: 4/6, b/d: 4/7)
+[-, -, riññäkte//] +(77a5, 602.3c1). +

+ + +
+

+riññe +(nm.) +‘city-dweller’
+[riññe, -, -//] +[alye]kc[a] riññe śaumoṃ prekṣäṃ ‘another city-dweller asks people’ (592b1). +∎A derivative of rīye. +

+ + +
+

+rit- +(vt.) +[active] ‘direct [someone]’ (with the acc.); ‘demand [something of someone]’ (with acc. of thing and ablative); [middle] ‘seek, long for something/someone’ (with acc.); ‘seek/long [to do something]’ (with infinitive); akālk rit- ‘cherish a wish, seek to fulfill a wish’
+Ps. VI /ritnā-/ [A -, -, ritanaṃ//] (unpubl. Berlin text [Thomas, 1978b:165]); Ko. V /ritā-/ [MP rītamar, -, rītatär//-, -, rītantär; MPOpt. -, -, rītoytär//; Inf. rītatsi; Ger. rītalle]; Ipv. I /p(ä)ritā-/: [MPSg. prītar; MPPl. prītat]; Pt. Ia /ritā-/ [MP -, ritātai, ritāte//]; PP /rito-/ +alyenkäṃts no se yakne k_uce tu ñāssa ritanträ (231b3), sakwä rītoyträ = BHS sukham iccheta (U-3a3), yopar warttone Dakṣiṇākeṃ ritasi wrocceṃ rṣākeṃ ‘they entered into the forest to seek D., the great wiseman’ (107a7), omte tañ klyinaṣäṃ-ś sak lakle ritatsi ‘there he must seek thee [for] good or [for] ill’ (TEB-74-6); lānte ritale pärkalle mäsketär = BHS rājā vaśo bhavati (M-3a6); [ri]tāte akālk sorro[mp] k[l]āya poyśintse ‘he cherished a wish and fell to the feet of the Buddha’ (22a8), ot rītāte āśc [mä]rtkāt[e] ‘then he sought to shave [his] head’ (365a5), läklentants ̇ ̇rma ritātai kr[_u]i kärsatsi ‘when thou hast sought to know the ... of sufferings’ (224a3/b1); [k_use] no reki ecce ritowo = BHS yā hi vācā-bhinanditā (H-ADD. 149.96a4 [Thomas, 1969:314]). +‣Aside from the hapax present, ritanaṃ (cf. A rinā- from *ritnā-), rit- normally forms the suppletive non-present forms of ñäsk-, q.v. + -- ritormeṃ; +
+ritalñe ‘requirement; longing (for)’: po ri[ta]lñ[esa] makā-yäk[ne mant pyām] ‘according to every requirement act conformably’ (LP-39a2), kete rītalñe yāmi = BHS kasya paryeṣaṇāṃ caret (PK-NS-107a5 [Thomas, 1976b:106]); +
+ritalñetstse* ‘having a longing for’: śkwaryai yoktsi ritalñetsai ‘a liana longing for a drink’ (11a5). +∎Possible etymological connections unsure. Perhaps with VW (406), AB rit- is to be connected with Greek ereídō ‘infix, plant, become fixed, be fixed firm, planted.’ The Tocharian meaning would be from *‘fix oneself on.’ +See also -rita. +

+ + +
+

+-rita +(n.) +‘seeker’
+[rita, -, - (voc. ritai)//ritañ, -, -] +k_use yikne-ritañ sosoyoṣ ‘whoever seeking the [right] way [are] satisfied’ (31a3), pontäts saimo kärtse-ritai añmalaṣka ‘refuge of all, seeker of good, dear one!’ (229b3/4). +∎A nomen agentis from rit-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ritk- +See rätk-. +

+ + +
+

+ritt- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be attached/hitched/connected/linked to, persist in [with locative or comitative], be suitable for [with genitive]’; K ‘cause to bind to oneself, cause to take up, set about; persist in’
+G Ps. III /ritte-/ [MP -, -, rittetär//rittemtär, -, -]; Ko. V. /rittā-/ [MP -, -, rittātär//; MPOpt. -, -, rittoytär//]; Ipv. I /p(ä)rittā-/ [APl. prittāso (?, 557a6); MPSg. rīttar]; Pt. Ia /rittā-/ [rittāwa, rittāsta, ritta// (stress pattern not assured)]; PP /ritto-/; +
+K Ps. IX /rittäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A rittäskau, -, rittäṣṣäṃ//; APart. rittäṣṣeñca ‘(one who is) persistent’; Ger. rittäṣṣälle]; Ko. [= Ps.] [Inf. rittästsi; Ger. rittäṣṣälle]; Pt. II /raittā-/ [MP -, -, raittāte//-, -, raittānte]; PP /rerittu-/ + taiseṃ weweñu tākaṃ ot ka ṣamāntse mant yatsi rittetär ‘[if] he has spoken thus, then it is suitable for a monk to go’ (331b3), [ya]k wes rittemtär ‘still we are bound’ (108a7/8), k_uśalapākṣne rittemtär ‘we are attached to good conduct’ (DAM.507a4 [Pinault, 1984a]); se yesi śarāṃ ārttalñe tākaṃ cau yes terine rittāträ caune ‘this one will love your refuge; in this fashion you will persist in it’ (108a7); täryā-yäkne [pri]ttāso ‘persist in the three-fold [way]!’ (575a6); rattāwa [lege: rittāwa] (339b1), /// [ko]ränmasa onolmeṃ pern[e]rñ[e]mpa r[i]t[ta]sta (203b1); su ṣp laklempa rittowo ‘he [is] bound by pain’ (3b6), yśelmecce ersnāssonto śaiṣṣempa se rittowo ‘he is attached to the world of sensual desire and form’ (41a5), yältse yäkweṃśc rerittoṣ cwi [kokale] ‘his wagon hitched to a thousand horses’ (362b6), snai-pelempa rittauwa k_use welñenta ‘the sayings which [are] linked to lawlessness’ (S-6a1); /// ym[e]s[a] rittäṣṣäṃ (128a1); ket krent wāṣmoṃtse menki tākaṃ rittaṣṣeñca mā tākaṃ-me kärtsene ‘whoever may be lacking a good friend, he is not one [who is] persistent for good for them’ (K-5b1), mā āyorne rittäṣṣeñca tākan-ne ‘[if] he is not persistent in giving to him’ (K-6b2); te warñai makte po rittäṣle ‘this, etc., [is] itself all to be taken on’ (197b5), curmpa rittäṣle tälpāllesa aiṣle ‘with powder to be bound; to be given as a purgative’ (Y-2a1); ce wace śok [lege: ślok] weña spelkene rittässiś ṣañ ceṃ a[kalṣlyeṃ] ‘this second śloka he spoke in order to get his own disciples to persist in zeal’ (27b5); [śau]l r[i]nts[i rai]ttānte ‘they set about to renounce life’ (45a3/4). + -- rittālñe: (332.2b4). +∎TchA ritw- and B ritt- reflect PTch *ritw- from PIE *reitw- seen outside of Tocharian only in Iranian, e.g. Avestan raēθwa- ‘± pervade’ or Khotanese ā-rīh- ‘share, participate’ (participle ā-rsta- ‘joined, associated’). We have a striking Tocharian-Iranian isogloss (Bailey, 1967 [cf. Bailey, 1979:24], VW:406-7). +See also raitwe and eraitwe. +

+ + +
+

+ri-n- +(vt.) +‘renounce, give up’
+Ps. X /rinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, rinastar, rinastär//rinaskemttär, -, rinaskentär; APart. rinaṣṣeñca ‘renouncing’; Ger. rinaṣṣälle]; Ko. I /rin-/ [MP -, rintar, rintär//; MPOpt. riñīmar, -, riñitär ~ rīñitär//; Inf. ri(n)tsi; Ger. rille]; Ipv. III /p(ä)rin-/ [MPSg. pri(n)tsar]; Pt. III /rin-/ (stress pattern not assured) [MP -, rintsatai, rintsate ~ rintsāte//rintsamte, -, rintsante]; PP /rerinu-/ +krentaunaṃts ṣarmtsa śaul waipecce po rinasträ ‘because of virtues he renounces all life and possessions’ (23a6), mkte [sic] meñe mā rinasträ swañcaiṃ kroścana ‘as the moon does not renounce [its] cold beams’ (52b7); po yśelmeṃ päst rinaṣṣeñca = BHS sarva kāmaparityāgī (U-3a4); śaul ñi lāre päst rinaṣle ‘my dear life [is] to be completely renounced’ (25a8); k_use po tārkaṃ enkalñanta [lege: enkalñenta] po päst rintär wäntarwa pontäṃ ‘whoever may let go of all sufferings and give up all things’ (33a3), pelaiknentse pernesa atyai ram no riñīmar āś ‘for the sake of the law may I, like the grass, give up [my] head’ (S-8a4); takarṣkñesa tne pel=ostaṣṣe rintsi yā[taṃ] ‘[if] he is capable of giving up out of faith the prison of bone’ (50b2), śaulne pkwälñe ritsi [pre]ke (281a1); Ulkāmukhe weṣṣäṃ rilyi wesṣañ śaul mā ‘U. says: we [will] not renounce our own lives’ (589b4); pañäktäṃñe perneṣṣe akālksa rinsāte-ne ‘he renounced [for the sake of] him all desire for Buddha-worth’ (88b4), pātär mātär rīntsāmte ‘we renounced father and mother’ (273a5); pw enkalñenta rerīnoṣ ‘[those] having renounced all graspings [at worldly things]’ (PK-AS-16.2a6 [Pinault, 1989:155]). + -- rerinormeṃ; +
+rilläññe ‘renunciation’: [po no] klinaṣṣäṃ ṣañ śāmna rintsi mā no nta su ce_u rilñemeṃ oko wrocce kälpāṣṣäṃ ‘one must, however, renounce all his own followers, but one never achieves a great result from that renunciation’ (8a2); +
+rilyñeṣṣe ‘prtng to renunciation’: rilñeṣṣe yātalñe ‘the capability of renunciation’ (600a4); +
+rilyñetstse ‘renouncing, giving up’: rilyñetstse = BHS tyāgavāṃ (H-149.315a3 [Thomas, 1969:309]). +∎AB ri-n- reflect PTch *ri-n- from PIE *h₁r(e)i-n(e)u-. The Tocharian forms with -n- come from a -neu- present, i.e. *h₁ri-nu-sḱe/o-, to which one should compare Sanskrit (ipf.) ariṇvan ‘released, detached’ or Greek orīnō (< pre-Greek *orinwe/o-) ‘stir, move, excite; incite’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:144, VW, 1941:107, 1976:405, MA:388; cf. P:330). +See also rīnätstse. +

+ + +
+

+rīnätstse +(n.) +‘renouncer’
+[rinätstse, -, - (voc. rinäccu)//rinäcci, -, rinäcceṃ] + kwäntsa-pälsko prākre täṅwä rinäcceṃ ra mā rinästār ‘thou dost not renounce the renouncers of firm spirit and love’ (245a4). +∎A nomen agentis from ri-n-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+rinivarttaṃ* +a meter [syllables and rhythm unknown]
+[-, -, rinivarttaṃ//] +(602.3a2). +

+ + +
+

+rimmākka +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[rimmākka, -, -//] +(W-10a3, W-10b3). + -- rimmākkaṣṣe*: rimmākaṣṣa pyāpyo sā ṣpakiye kwersentse ‘rimmākka-flower, the poultice for kwerse’ (W-31a6). +

+ + +
+

+rīye +(nf.) +‘city’
+[rīye, rīntse, ri//riñ, -, riṃ] +Śrāvasti ri[ne] ... mäskītär ‘he found himself in the city of Ś.’ (22b2/3), riṃne k_uṣaiṃne ostwane ‘in cities, villages, and houses’ (31b6), rīye-menāk = BHS nagaropamam (U-23b3). + -- riṣṣe* ‘prtng to, inhabiting a city’: kameṃ śr[a]ddh[e]ño Śrāvasti riṣṣi upāsaki käntenmasa ‘believers and laybrothers, [inhabitants] of Ś., came by the hundreds’ (15a3=17a3), wasa ... riṣṣeṃ wn[olmeṃts waipecce] ‘she gave the possessions to the people of the city’ (519a2). +∎TchA ri and B rīye reflect PTch *riye from PIE *wrih₁-en-. Its only sure extra-Tocharian relative is the Thracian bria ‘city, wall’ (< *wrih₁-eh_a-) (MA:210). It is possible that Greek hríon ‘mountain peak, promentory’ also belongs here (cf. Smith, 1910:43, and particularly Lidén, 1916:143-4, VW:405), though the latter has also been connected to Anatolian *ser(i)- ‘up, high.’ +See also riññe. +

+ + +
+

+ru-¹ +(vt.) +‘open’
+Ps. VIII /rus^'ä/_e-/ [MP //-, -, rusentär]; Ko. I /reu-* ~ ru-/ [A //ruwäm, -, -; AOpt. ruwim, -, -//; MPOpt. //-, -, ruwyentär; Inf. rutsi]; PP /reruwe-/ + kete āñme tākaṃ tweri ruwyenträ ... nassait yāmoṣ ... tweri rusenträ ‘[if] someone has the desire [that] doors may open; the spell [is] cast and doors open’ (M-3b1); nervāṇäṣṣai rintse ... ruwim yenme ‘may I open the portal of the Nirvana-city’ (S-6a5); (M-3b1 [cf. supra]); yoñiya Mā[r]-ñaktetse [ru]tsi preke ‘it [is] time to open the way of the god Māra’ (281b6). + -- rerūwermeṃ: (393a3). +∎AB ru- reflect PTch *ru- from PIE *reu(h_x)- ‘be open,’ the verbal root underlying Av. ravah- ‘open space,’ Latin rūs ‘countryside,’ Old Irish róe (f.) ‘field, open land’ (< *rōwyeh_a- or *rowesyeh_a-), Gothic rūm ‘room, space,’ rūm ‘roomy,’ rūmnan ‘enlarge, widen, open wide,’ Old English rȳman ‘leave, make room, go away,’ English room, etc. (VW, 1941:108, 1976:409, P:874; MA:534). The Celtic and Tocharian forms are apparently anit (otherwise the Tocharian subjunctive would be *rāwā- ~ ruwā-); the Iranian and Latin forms are ambiguous. Only Proto-Germanic *rūma- apparently must reflect a set form but even that is unclear as cases of secondary, morphological, lengthening of *-u- are not unknown in Germanic (cf. also kwaṣo). +See also perhaps räs-¹. +

+ + +
+

+ru-² +(vt.) +‘pull out (from under a surface [with violence])’
+Ps. V /ruwā-/ [Ger. ruwālle*] +pit-tsamonta ruwāllona ‘gall-stones [are] to be removed’ (W-42a3). +‣The single instance of the cognate verb in TchA is similar: the object is ‘eyes’ and it occurs in a list of bodily tortures. One should compare semantically räss- ‘tear out/off (without going beneath the surface)’ and mlut- ‘pluck (as of hair or feathers).’ +∎AB ruwā- reflect PTch *ruwā- from PIE *ru(h_x)-eh_a-, a derivative of *reu(h_x)- ‘pull out’ [: Sanskrit ru- ‘dash to pieces,’ Latin ruō ‘fall violently,’ Lithuanian ráuju ‘tear out,’ OCS ryjǫ (inf. rъvati) ‘dig,’ Old Norse rȳja ‘pull wool from sheep’ (P:868, with many nominal derivatives; MA:567, 570)] (VW, 1970b:527, 1976:408). +

+ + +
+

+ru-³ +(vi.) +‘± dispair’ (?)
+Pt. Ia /rāwā-/ (?) [A -, -, rāwa//] +[rä]skre yāmu erkatte r[ā]w-attsaik päst snai maiyya ‘strongly annoyed, he, without strength, despaired’ (46a1). +∎The meaning is not certain. If it is approximately correct, one might think of a connection with PIE *h₃reu- [: Sanskrit ruváti ‘roars’ (also, somewhat later in their attestation, are the presents ráuti and ravati ‘id.’), OCS rovǫ ‘roar’ (inf. ruti), Old English rēon ‘lament,’ Greek ōrūomai ‘roar’ (with expressive lengthening of the initial prothetic vowel), Latin rūmor ‘rustle, murmur, vague sound’]. The meaning in Old English is not so distant from the presumed Tocharian meaning. +

+ + +
+

+ruk-¹ +(vi.) +‘± gleam, shine’
+Pt. I /rukā-/ [MP //-, -, rukānte] +ruk[ānte]-c läkts[i] eśän[e] täṅwäññene ‘thy brilliant eyes gleamed with love’ (224b1). +‣For the meaning, see Thomas, 1957:175. +∎Etymology uncertain. Melchert (p.c.) cogently suggests the possibility of this being an Iranian loanword where *r(a)uk- would be from PIE *leuk-. +

+ + +
+

+ruk-² +(vi.) +‘grow lean (with hunger)’
+PP /ruko-/ +kātso mā [tparya] mā ra rukausa ‘the belly is not high [= fat] but also not grown lean’ (73b2). +‣The TchA equivalent is also attested but once in the preterite participle (340a2) in a very fragmentary context. +∎AB ruk- reflect PTch *ruk- from PIE *reuK- ‘shrink, wrinkle up’ [: Lithuanian runkù, rùkti ‘shrivel, become wrinkled,’ Latin rūga ‘wrinkle’ (cf. P:870; MA:516)] (Krause/Thomas, 1960:58, VW:409). +See also rūki*. +

+ + +
+

+rūki* +(n.) +‘± leanness’
+[-, -, rūki//] +ṣlyaṣṣi snai rūki sprāne ‘firm flanks without leanness’ [cf. Hilmarsson's discussion (1989a:75)] (74a5). +∎A derivative of ruk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+rukṣ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘harsh, rough’
+ampalakkesar [r]ukṣ ‘the rough ambāṭakakesara-tree’ (115a1). + -- rūkṣa-pälsko ‘harsh-spirit’: (230b3). +∎From BHS rūkṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+rutir +(n.) +‘saffron’ (a medical ingredient)
+[rutir, -, -//] +(41a3). +∎From BHS rudhira- (cf. ratre). +

+ + +
+

+rutelle +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[rutelle, -, -//] +(W-8a6). +

+ + +
+

+rutk- +(vt.) +‘move; remove, take off’
+Ko. V /rautkā- ~ rutkā-/ [A -, -, rautkaṃ//; Inf. rutkatsi]; Pt. Ia /rutkā-/ [A //-, -, rotkär [sic]; MP -, -, ruktāte//]; PP /rutko-/ + lykuññe palskosa ykemeṃ rautkaṃ postaññe prāri ‘[if] he moves [it] away from [its] place with thought of thieving, [even] a finger['s length]’ (H-149-ADD.8a7/8 [Thomas, 1954:761]); po kälymint[sa] rotkär-ne ‘they moved it in every direction’ (51a5), śarye wassi rutkāte kaunäś sark kauc yāmṣate ‘he took off his outer garment and placed his back high to the sun’ (5b4). + -- rutkalyñe ‘removal’: rutkalyñ=onmi[ntsa] ‘removal by remorse’ (290a5). +∎AB rutk- reflect PTch *r tk- from PIE *reud^h-sḱe/o- from *reud^h- [: Sanskrit rudh- ‘check, restrain, hold back,’ Avestan raod- ‘hold at a distance, check, impede,’ English rid (< Proto-Germanic (*rudjan) (MA:471)] (VW:409, though the details differ, for the Indo-Iranian correspondence; and Melchert, 1977:125, for the Germanic). The Tocharian and Germanic, though differing in morphology, reflect "eventive" derivations, ‘± to push back/ move into a checked state,’ from the non-eventive meaning preserved in Indo-Iranian. +See also possibly prutk-. +

+ + +
+

+Rudramukhe +(n.) +‘Rudramukha’ (PN of a brahman)
+[Rudramukhe, -, Rudramukheṃ//] +(81a2). +

+ + +
+

+Rudraśarme +(n.) +‘Rudraśarman’ (PN)
+[Rudraśarme, -, -//] +(88a3). +

+ + +
+

+rup +(n.[m.sg.]) +(a) ‘shape, form, outward appearance’; (b) ‘face’
+[rūp, rupantse, rūp//-, -, rupanma] +(a) klīye rano trenksate rūpn=eṅwentse ‘the woman also took on the form of a man’ (9b4), īkäṃ[-śtwāra ṣotruna twe śā]mñe rūpsa pkārsa ‘recognize the 24 signs in human form’ (127a3); +
+(b) makūltsa tatrāpparmeṃ rūpsa klāya ‘tripping on a root, he fell on [his] face’ (88a2/3). + -- rupaṣṣe ‘prtng to form, shape, formal’: rupaṣṣe ā[ntse] ‘formal element’ (152b3), rūpaṣṣe svābhāpsa = BHS rūpagatena ‘having corporeal substance’ (178b2/3). +∎From BHS rūpa-. +See also rūpadhātu, rupaśke*, rupaskant, and rūpi. +

+ + +
+

+rūpadhātu +(n.) +‘the world of form’
+[rūpadhātu, -, rūpadhātu//] +(156a3). + -- rupadhātuṣṣe* ‘prtng to the world of form’ (173a6) +∎From BHS rūpadhātu-. +

+ + +
+

+rupaśke* +(n.) +‘little face’
+[-, -, rupaśke//] +kenīne lamästär-ne auṃtsate-ne rupaśke kantwas[a] skāwa[tsi] ‘he sets him on [his] knee and began to kiss his little face with [his] tongue’ (83a3). +∎Diminutive of rūp, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+rupaskant +(n.) +‘physical element’
+[rupaskant, rupaskantäṃtse, -//] +(192b1). +∎From BHS rūpaskandha-. +

+ + +
+

+rūpi +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘having shape, corporeal’
+(178b2). +∎From BHS rūpin-. +

+ + +
+

+ruru +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘ruru-deer’
+[ruru, -, -//] +keṣcye [sic] r[ur]u wär ñäṣträ ‘the hungry deer seeks water’ (139b4). +∎From BHS ruru-. +

+ + +
+

+ruwe* +(n.) +‘± spot, stain’ (?)
+[-, -, ruwe//] +snai ruwe āstre āyor se tusa āstre oko yänmātsiśco tusa wnolmi kātkeṃ ṣpä ‘without ruwe and pure [is] the gift; pure [enough] to achieve a result therefrom and creatures enjoy themselves therefrom’ (K-5a3). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+reki +(nnt.) +‘word; command’
+[reki, -, reki//-, -, rekauna] +waike-reki lāre [yāmträ] ‘[if] he loves the lying-word’ (19b2), kreṃt tarkoy reki mantanta tarko[y yo]lain reki ‘one should emit a good word; one should never emit an evil word’ (19b3), reki = BHS vācā (20b4), [re]kauna plātäṃne ‘in words and speeches’ (27a4), reki ñe[m] = BHS vāṅnāma- (199b3), [k_use pelai]kneṣṣe reki kärtse a[kṣoṣ] = BHS ko dharmapadaṃ sudeśitam ( H-149.198b6 [Thomas, 1968a:197]), katkauñaṣṣana plātäṃ rekauna ‘joyous speeches and words’ (K-9b6), [pelai]kneṣṣe reki = BHS dharmapadaṃ (U-12b5). + -- rekiṣṣe ‘prtng to a word’: [yāmornta palsko-]kektseñ-rekiṣṣana krenta ‘good deeds of spirit, body, and word’ (7a8), rekiṣṣana ... molints[a] ‘by verbal disagreements’ (27a4); +
+rekaunaṣṣe ‘prtng to words’ (23b5). +∎TchA rake and B reki reflect PTch *rekä/e- + -äi (for the formation, see Adams, 1990a). Clearly the Tocharian is a nominal derivative of the PIE verb root *rek- seen most clearly in OCS rekǫ ‘say’ [: also Sanskrit racayati ‘produces, fashions, forms; composes [of a book],’ Gothic rahnjan ‘reckon’ (P:863; MA:535)] (Pischel, 1908:934, Krause/Thomas, 1960:54, VW:400). Whether the Tocharian word is from *rēk- (cf. OCS rěčь [f.] ‘word’) or *rok- (cf. OCS rokъ [m.] ‘certain time, goal’) is uncertain, though rěcь is semantically closer. +

+ + +
+

+rekwane +‘?’
+[re]kwane akappi /// (426a3). +

+ + +
+

+recce* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, recce] +///tk ̇ reccenmpa (307b7). +

+ + +
+

+retke +(nm.) +‘army’
+[retke, retkentse, retke//recci (?), -, -] + ontsoyttñesa allonkna retke iyaṃ ypaunane māka wnolmeṃ kauseṃ ‘[if kings] out of insatiableness lead an army in other lands and kill many creatures’ (2b8=3a1), retke ṣālla kausalṣets ‘the army threw [down those from] Kausala’ (21a7), /// istak recci wi /// /// retke yänmā/// (423b5/6), yewe retke wärkṣalyci ‘weapon and army [were] powerful’ (PK-NS-36A-b2 [Couvreur, 1964:247]), śle retke = BHS sasainya- (U-2b4). +∎TchA ratäk and B retke reflect a PTch *ret(ä)ke, usually taken as a borrowing from an Iranian *rataka-, cf. Persian rade ‘series, order’ (Schulze, 1932, Hansen, 1940:155, Winter, 1971:217, VW:638). However, from a reasonably early borrowing from an Iranian *rataka- one would expect a PTch *retek(e) (cf. TchB ekṣinek(e) ‘dove’ from Iranian *akṣinaka-). Nor does Iranian attest a meaning ‘army’ for this word. Perhaps instead we have a virtual PIE *róth₂iḱos, a nominalization with accent retraction from *roth₂iḱós ‘prtng to wheel or wagon,’ i.e. ‘chariotry,’ from *roth₂os ‘wheel, wagon’ [: Old Irish roth ‘wheel; circle,’ Latin rota ‘wheel; wagon,’ OHG rad ‘wheel,’ Lithuanian rãtas ‘wheel’ (pl.) rãtai ‘wagon,’ Albanian rreth ‘wring, hoop, tire for carriage’ (< *roth₂iḱom) (P:866; MA:640-641)]. +

+ + +
+

+reme +(n.) +‘witness’ [reme yām- ‘make evident’ (= BHS sākṣāt kṛ-)]
+[reme, -, reme//] +ṣeme reme abhijñä yāmtsiśco ‘zur alleinigen Verwirk-lichung von [höherer] Kenntnis’ [Thomas, 1983:195] (29b3), reme Sūjate ‘S. [is] the witness’ (485a3), [täryā]ka-ṣuk pelaiknenta re[me] maṣtär [lege: yamaṣtär] ‘he witnesses to the 37 laws [= 37 bodhipakika-dharmas]’ (591b5). +∎TchA ram and B reme probably reflect PTch *reme from PIE *romó- ‘supporter’ from *rem- ‘make still, make fast, support’ [: Sanskrit rāmá- ‘pleasing, charming, lovely’] or *romb^hó- from *rem-b^h- ‘id.’ [: Sanskrit rambhá- ‘staff, support’ (P:864)]. Also possible is VW's derivation (400) from a PIE *wrēmén- ‘he of the word,’ a hysterokinetic derivative of the neuter *wrēmṇ ‘word’ seen in Greek hrēma, though one would expect wr- in Tocharian in the latter case (cf. wreme). +

+ + +
+

+Revatī +(n.) +‘Revatī’ (PN of a yakṣiṇī)
+[Revatī, -, -//] +(508b2). +

+ + +
+

+resk- +(vi.) +‘flow (together), (e)merge’
+Ps. II /reske^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, reṣṣäṃ//-, -, reskeṃ] + Gankne kekmu mäkte yaiku nāki ṣesa reṣṣäṃ war [] samudrämpa ‘as the water [that has] come into the Ganges flows together faultlessly with the ocean’ (30a4), reskeṃ-ñ ysāra ‘my blood flows [= I am bleeding]’ (90a6). +∎From a putative PIE *rēǵ-sḱe/o- or *roǵ-sḱe/o-, a derivative of *reǵ- [: Latin rigāre ‘water,’ Albanian rrjedh ‘flow, well up’ (or is the Albanian from *wreǵ-?), Icelandic raki ‘wetness’] or *reḱ- [: Germanic, e.g. Gothic, rign (< *reḱnó-) ‘rain,’ Lithuanian rõkti ‘drizzle’ (P:857)] (VW:404-5; MA:639). +

+ + +
+

+rai +strengthening particle +///j^.yenmeṃ ṣpä rai miyaśke warpatai (294a7), ///ñc^. weskeṃ aṣkār rai | pyāmtso säswentse yaitkor ‘they answered right back: ‘fulfill the lord's command!’’ (589b3). +∎Ra + -i, cf. wai and wa. +

+ + +
+

+raitwe* +(n.) +‘± application, means’
+[-, -, raitwe//raitwenta, -, raitwenta] +alepāṃṣṣeṃ añcāṃṣṣeṃ raitwenta rittau ‘auflagen von Salben und Schminken aufgewandet habend’ (A-1a6). +∎A derivative of ritt- (< *ritw-), q.v. TchA retwe ‘id.’ and B raitwe reflect PTch *reitwe, (as if) from PIE *(h_x)roitwo- [: Avestan raēθwa- ‘mix,’ Khotanese ā-rīha- ‘assembly’] (Bailey, 1967:18). +See also eraitwe. +

+ + +
+

+raiwe* +(adj.) +‘± slow’ (?)
+[m: -, raiwepi, raiweṃ/] +[r]aiwepi memīl[oṣe]pi ysārccepi kosintse ‘of a sluggish, harmful, bloody cough’ (497a4), kwaräṣ raiweṃ sticce yamaṣṣäṃ ‘it makes the stool sluggish and slow’ (ST-a2). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (400) who would like to connect this word with OHG ruowa ‘repose, peace’ and Greek erōē ‘cessation (of war), rest’ by reconstructing a PIE *h₁rē(i)- ~ *h₁rō(i)-. +

+ + +
+

+Roce +(n.) +‘Roca’ (PN)
+[Roce, -, -//] +(AMB-a6/b2). +

+ + +
+

+Rohiṇi +(n.) +the asterism/constellation ‘Taurus’
+(M-1b5). +∎From BHS rohiṇī-. +

+ + +
+

+rohinike* +(n.) +‘inflammation of the throat’
+[-, -, rohinike//] +(W-15a5). +∎From BHS rohiṇikā-. +

+ + +
+

+rmamñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘tendency’
+[rmamñe, -, -//] +ket yarke petiś rmamñe tsänkau tne ‘to whomever [has] arisen a tendency to honor and flattery’ (33b6), po krentauanaṃś ... rmamñe ‘a tendency toward all virtues’ (S-5a2). +∎A derivative of räm-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+rmer +See ramer. +

+ + +
+

+rṣakāñca +(n.) +‘female sage, seeress’
+[rṣakāñca, -, -//] +(354.c2). +∎A derivative of rṣāke, q.v., with the feminizing suffix -āñcā. +

+ + +
+

+rṣabhak +See räṣabhak. +

+ + +
+

+rṣap-devadatti* +(n.[pl.]) +a meter [20/22/10/15 syllables, rhythm a: 5/5/5/5, b: 8/7/7, c: 5/5, d: 8/7]
+[//-, -, rṣap-devadatteṃ] +(375a2). +

+ + +
+

+rṣap-pañcagati* +(n.) +a meter [4 X 15 syllables, rhythm 7/8]
+[-, -, rṣap-pañcagati//] +(577a4). +

+ + +
+

+rṣap-ṣalywe-malkwer* +(n.) +a meter [4 X 18 syllables, rhythm 7/7/4]
+[-, -, rṣap-ṣalywe-malkwer//] +(108b1). +

+ + +
+

+rṣāke +(nm.) +‘sage, (inspired) seer’
+[rṣāke, -, rṣākeṃ (voc. rṣāka)//rṣāki, rṣākeṃts, rṣākeṃ] +rṣāke śakkeññe = BHS śākyamuni (29a3). + -- rṣākäññe ‘prtng to an ṛṣi’: Indre kārpa rṣākäññe weṣ myāskate ‘Indra descended and changed into the guise of an ṛṣi’ (107a7); +
+rṣākäññeṣṣe* ‘id.’: rṣākäññeṣṣu kaurṣu = BHS ṛṣipungava (251b6). +∎From BHS *ṛṣaka-, a derivative of ṛṣi-. +See also rṣakāñca. +

+ + +
+

+rsīl +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[rsīl, -, -//] +(W-29b2). +

+ + +
+

+rser* +(n.) +‘hate’
+[-, -, rser//] +rse[rsa] tränkonta nke nakanm=ālyaucesa tättāntär māka ‘[if] out of hate they put many sins and reproaches to one another’ (27a6), snai räser snai [śc]o[n]ai ‘without hate, without enmity’ (259b4). + -- rsertstse ‘hateful’: [we]ñ[a] piś toṃślo[kanma entseṣṣ[eṃ]ts rsercents ‘he spoke these five ślokas to the envious and hateful’ (18a2). +∎TchA rse and B rser are different derivatives of a PTch verbal root *räs- from PIE *h₁(e)rh₁(e)s- and related to Sanskrit irasyati (< *h₁ṛh₁es-ye/o-) ‘is angry, behaves violently,’ irasyā ‘ill-will,’ īrṣyā ‘envy, jealousy,’ Avestan ərəši- ‘envy,’ araska- ‘envy, jealousy,’ Hittite arsane- (< *h₁ṛh₁s-n-eh₁-) ‘to envy,’ Old English eorsian (< *h₁erh₁s-eh_a-ye/o-) ‘wish ill,’ yrre ‘angry,’ Homeric areiē (< *h₁ṛh₁esyeh_a- = Sanskrit irasyā-) ‘threat’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:155, VW:408, also Puhvel, 1984:172-173). The Tocharian forms presumably would reflect a putative PIE *-h₁rh₁es-. +

+ + +
+

+lak(_u)tse +(adj.) +‘shining, bright, brilliant’
+[m: lak_utse, -, -/lak_utsi, -, -/] [f: lak_utsa,-, lak_utsai//] +kauñäkte laktse ‘the brilliant sun-god’ (74b4), ruk[ānte]-c läkts[i] eśän[e tä]ṅwäññene ‘thy brilliant eyes shone [?] in love’ (224b1). +∎In Indo-European terms we probably have *lukutyo- from the same *leuk- that underlies luk-, q.v. The root is suffixed with the same concatenation of morphemes seen in akwatstse ‘sharp,’and lank_utse ‘light’ (i.e. ‘not heavy’) (VW:255). See now Hamp, 1989b. +See also läk_utsetstse ‘id.’ and läk_utsauña. +

+ + +
+

+lakle +(nnt.) +‘pain, suffering’
+[lakle, läklentse, lakle//läklenta, läklentaṃts, läklenta] +lakle = BHS duḥkha (11a5), lakl= empelye wärpnamar ‘I suffer terrible pain’ (22b7), pwā[rṣṣepi] läklentse sāṃtke ‘a remedy for the pain of fire’ (497a6), piśpikne lakle = BHS stanarukṣa- (Y-1a6). + -- läkleṣṣe ‘prtng to pain/suffering, painful’: läkleṣṣana rekaunasa snai keś ‘with painful words without number’ (100b4); +
+läklentaṣṣe ‘prtng to sufferings’: sportoträ läklentaṣṣe cākkär wrotse ‘the great wheel of sufferings revolves’ (11a7); +
+läklessu ‘unfortunate, unhappy, suffering’: skwassu nesau paplāntau yes tallāñc läklessoñc ‘I am happy and joyful [while] you [are] unfortunate and suffering’ (31a2), läkles[su] mäsketrä = BHS duḥkhito bhavati (524a2); +
+läkle-lyāka* ‘able to see suffering or pain’: entwek läkle-lyakāñ [mäskenträ] ‘then they are looking at suffering’ (K-5a6); +
+läkle-näkṣi ‘destroying suffering’: läkle-näkṣi säkw-aiṣṣeñcai ‘destroying suffering, giving good-fortune’ (229b4). +∎From PIE *luǵlo- [: Greek leugaléos ‘unhappy’] or *luǵro- (with assimilation of the resonants) [: Greek lugrós ‘sad, miserable,’ and more distantly Sanskrit ruj- ‘break, make suffer,’ Latin lūgeō ‘mourn, lament,’ etc. (P:686; MA:81, 247)] (Lidén, 1916:36-37, VW:254). +See also laklese. +

+ + +
+

+laklese +(adj.) +‘painful’
+[m: -, -, laklese//] +triwäṣle meleṃne laklese muka panku krāñi wicukaine ‘[it is] to be mixed and [put] in the nose in [cases of] painful dumbness, lameness, sore neck, or jaws’ (Y-2a3). +∎A derivative of lakle, q.v. For the formation, see Winter, 1979). +

+ + +
+

+lakṣāṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘characteristic, sign of excellence’
+[-, -, lakṣāṃ/lakṣānäñc, -, -/lakṣā(nä)nta, -, lakṣā(nä)nta] +lkāntär-c kektsenne täryāka-wī lakṣānänta ‘on thy body are seen 32 signs of excellence’ (76b5), wi lakṣānäñc ‘two characteristics’ (H-149.X.4b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎From BHS lakṣaṇa-. +See also lakṣaṇe. +

+ + +
+

+lakṣaṇe +(n.) +‘id.’
+[lakṣaṇe, -, -//] +(178a2). +‣Probably a variant of lakṣāṃ*. +

+ + +
+

+laks +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘fish’
+[laks, -, -//läkṣi, -, laksäṃ] +kwri war tākaṃ yolmene wināññenträ omp lwāsa laksäṃ warñai ‘if there is water in the pool, animals will enjoy fish, etc.’ (11b4), pupaṃ laksäṃ = BHS pūti-matsyāṃ (308b3). + -- läksaññe* ‘prtng to fish’: yä[kw]eññe oksaiñe läksaññe wästarye tu wikṣalle ‘horse, cow, and fish liver, it [is] to be avoided’ (559b4/5), läksaña klautso ‘a gill’ [lit: ‘fish ear’] (P-2a6). +∎From PIE loḱsi- ‘salmon, salmon-trout’ [: OHG lahs (m.), Old English leax (m.), Old Norse lax (m.), all ‘salmon’ (< Proto-Germanic *lahsa-), Old Prussian lasasso (f.) ‘salmon’ (< *loḱsoḱyeh_a-), Lithuanian lãšis (m.), Latvian lasis (m.) ‘salmon’ (< *loḱsi-), Lithuanian lašišà (f.) ‘id.’ (< *loḱsiḱyeh_a-), Russian losós' ‘salmon,’ Ossetic läsäg ‘brown trout’ (< *loḱsoḱo-) (P:653; MA:497)] (cf. Schrader/Nehring, 1929:2). In Tocharian we see the zero-grade *l_eḱsi- of a paradigm whose strong grade was *loḱsi- (cf. Krause, 1961). We need not assume that this basic word is a borrowing from an unattested TchA *laks from PIE *loḱso- as does VW (254-5). For a fuller treatment of the meaning and form of this etymon in Indo-European, see Diebold (1976). +

+ + +
+

+lank_utse +(adj.) +‘light’ [i.e. ‘not heavy’]
+[m: lank_utse, -, -//lank_uci, -, -] [f: lank_utsa, -, -//] +laṃtse koyne ‘light in the mouth’ (FS-a1), trankonta kälpaskenträ länktsana kramartsana ‘they achieve light and heavy sins’ (H-149. ADD.19a3 [Thomas, 1972b:451]). +∎In Indo-European terms we have *h₁lṇg^whutyo- from *h₁leng^wh- [: Greek elaphrós ‘light,’ OHG lungar ‘quick’ (both < *h₁lṇg^whró-), Gothic leihts ‘light’ (< *h₁leng^whto-), Lithuanian leñgvas ‘light,’ also English lung, etc. (P:660-1; MA: 353)] (VW, 1941:54, Lane, 1952:30, fn. 15, VW:255-6). The concatenation of suffixes is the same as is seen in akwatse ‘sharp’ and lak_utse ‘brilliant.’ +

+ + +
+

+lant* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, lant//-, -, lantna] +mā läntsa taṣä[llya] (H-149.37a3), /// [ypa]r[w]etsane [lege: yparwetsana] laṃtnana [lege: laṃtnane?] /// (590b8). +

+ + +
+

+lantuññe*¹ +(adj.) +‘royal’
+[m: -, -, lantuññe//-, -, lantuññeṃ] [f: -, -, lantuññai//lantuññana, -, -] +lauke tattārmeṃ laṃntuñeṃ yetweṃ ‘having put far the royal jewels’ (100b6), laṃtuññe īke källālñe ‘achievement of a royal position’ (128a4). +∎A derivative of walo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lantuññe² +(n.) +‘royal dignity, royalty’
+[lantuññe, -, lantuññe//] +lyāma-n=asāṃne wteṃtse wsā[-ne] lantuññe ‘he set him on the throne and gave him a second time [his] royal dignity’ (22a5). + -- lantuññeṣṣe ‘prtng to royalty, royal’: laṃtuññeṣṣepi rṣāke[ntse] ‘of a royal seer’ (91a4), lantuñeṣṣeṃ yetweṃntsa yātamai-ne kektseñ ‘with royal jewels have I his body decorated’ (PK-17.6a6 [Couvreur, 1954c:89]). +∎A nominalization of lantuññe*¹. +

+ + +
+

+laṃtnana +(n.[pl.]) +‘?’
+See lant. +

+ + +
+

+laraṣke +(adj.) +‘dear’
+[laraṣke, -, -//] +Yaśonakantse soyä laraṣk[e] ‘the dear son of Y.’ (Lévi, 1913:320). +∎A diminutive derivative of lāre, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Lariśka* +(n.) +‘Lariśka’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Lariśkantse, -//] +(465a2). +

+ + +
+

+lare +See lāre. +

+ + +
+

+larekke* +(n.) +‘dear one’ [term of endearment]
+[-, -, - (voc. larekka)//] +Uttareṃ m[ñcuṣk]eṃś weṣṣäṃ larekka śāmna caimp skente mā yakṣī ‘he says to prince Uttara: dear one, these are men, not yakṣas’ (85a3). +∎A derivative of lāre, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lareññ- +(vt.) +‘love, hold dear’
+Ps. XII /lāreññ^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, lareññentär] +[wä]ntarwa [no källā]tsiś kā lareññenträ ‘why do they love to acquire things?’ (245b3). +∎A denominative verb from lāre, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lareswañ* +(n.[pl.]) +‘?’
+[//-, -, lareswaṃ] +lareswaṃtsa Kentarśke yamä/// (490a-III-6). +

+ + +
+

+larauñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘love, affection’ [ + locative = ‘love for’]
+[larauñe, -, larauñe//] +ṣamāññene larauñe tanmästsiś[c]o ‘to engender love for monasticism’ (12b6), larauñe śaul kektsenne ... cämpim mussi ‘may I put aside love of life and body’ (S-3a1). + -- larauñetstse* ‘having love’: (361b8). +∎A nominal derivative of lāre, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lalaṃṣke +(adj.) +‘tender, soft’
+[m: lalaṃṣke, -, lalaṃṣkeṃ/lalaṃṣki ~ lalaṃṣkane, -, *lalaṃṣki ~ lalaṃṣkane/-, -, lalaṃṣkaṃ] [f: lalaṃṣka, -, -//lalaṃṣkana, -, -] +[ṣa]r[n]e weweñoṣ[śra]ddhauñeṣṣi tai lalaṃṣki ‘these tender hands [are] called the faithful ones’ (23a7), cwi soṃśke lalaṃṣke ṃaināki caimp brā[hmaṇi yä]rt[t]en-ne ‘these common brahmans drag his tender son’ (88a5/6), śpālmeṃ lalaṃṣkaṃ mtsiṣṣeṃ letseṃ ‘excellent, soft, hair locks’ (PK-13F-a3 [Couvreur, 1970:178]). +∎Etymology dubious. TchA *lālaṃṣäk and B lalaṃṣke do not allow reconstruction to a single PTch prototype, a fact which supports VW's contention (628-9) that we have a borrowing here from Sanskrit lālana- with a Tocharian suffix added. However, the meaning of the Sanskrit word, ‘caressing, fondling, coaxing’ (as an adjective) or ‘the act of caressing, fondling, coaxing’ (as a noun), is not very close to the Tocharian one. +

+ + +
+

+lalaukar +See luk-. +

+ + +
+

+lalñe +See länt-. +

+ + +
+

+laliye +(nf.) +‘exertion, striving’
+[laliye, lalyīntse, lālyi//-, -, laliṃ (K-T)] +tarya asaṃkhyaintaṣṣa lālyi īt[e] yamīyemtär ‘may we be full of the zeal of three eons’ (184a4), epyac kaloytar lali wrotstana [yarponta] ‘may thou remember exertion and great services’ (290b6), wikäṣñeṣṣai lalyīntse = BHS parihāṇadharma (591b2). +∎A nominal derivative of lāl-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lastānk +(n.) +‘executioner's block’ (?)
+[lastānk, -, lastānk//] +mäkte kertte lastānkmeṃ /// (249b2), (534b1). +‣Neither these attestations in TchB or the equally obscure attestation of the obvious TchA cognate, lāstank, provides any notion as to the meaning of this word. Krause and Thomas' ‘Richtblock’ must be on the basis of some unpublished material. +∎The preservation of -s- in TchA before -t- makes it almost certain that we have a borrowing from B to A (so VW:257). Otherwise, the history of this term is obscure (for a suggestion, see VW *lāt- ‘cut’ as found in lātk- ‘id.’ + stānk ‘palace’]). +

+ + +
+

+lasto +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘root-bark’ (?) (a medical ingredient)
+[lasto, -, -//] +[ka]ravīräṣṣa witsako [] karavīräṣṣe lasto ‘oleander root, the lasto of an oleander’ (497b7). +‣Oleander (Nerium indicum Mill.), BHS karavīra-, is poisonous but its roots, beaten into a paste with water, are applied to chancres and ulcers on the penis, a decoction of its leaves may be used to reduce swellings, and its root bark is used for scaly skin diseases and leprosy (Chopra, 1956:175). Clearly lasto is not the root but it might be root-bark or ‘decoction.’ Since this medical formula ends up being cooked (päkṣalle), it would seem unlikely that we have a decoction added to a mixture that is itself subsequently decocted, which would mean that lasto might be ‘root-bark.’ (Note that Khotanese also seem to have a mono-morphemic word for root-bark, namely baurkhä- [Emmerick and Skjärvo/, 1982:94-5].) See also the discussion of enmetre. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+lāṃs* +(nf/nnt.) +‘work, service’
+[-, -, lāṃs//-, -, laṃsūna] +mā [tw=o]t [ca]mpä[t] toṃ laṃsūna lāṃtsi pelaikneṣṣana ‘canst thou not accomplish the works of the law?’ (15b5=17b7), mīṣene lāṃs ramt yāmornta ‘deeds like work in the field’ (PK-NS-53-a6 [Pinault, 1988]). +∎TchA wles and B lāṃs reflect PTch *wlāns(ä) but further connections are unknown. Surely to be rejected is VW's suggestion (577) of an old compound of *w(e)l- ‘turn’ + *ōmso- ‘shoulder.’ +

+ + +
+

+lāṃs- +(vt.) +‘work, build, accomplish, fulfill, perform’
+Ps. II /lāṃs^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, lāṃṣtär//]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [Inf. lāṃs(t)si]; Pt. Ib /lāṃṣā-/ [MP -, lāṃṣatai, laṃsāte//-, -, laṃsānte]; PP /lālāṃṣu-/ +lāṃs lāṃṣtär (551a4); k_use ṣamāne aletstsai aśīyantse yākwa lāṃssi aiṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk gives wool to an unrelated nun to work’ (PK-NS-18A-a1 [Thomas, 1978a:238]); lānt [lege: lāns] laṃṣṣāte poyśiññe ‘he has accomplished the work of the Buddha’ (288a2), Ṣemankarsa kwarsär orocce pat lāṃṣatai ‘thou didst build a stupa a league in length’ (Qumtura 34.g3 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]); cotit yamaṣṣa-me toy aśiyana po lalāṃ-ṣuwa stare ‘he accused them: these nuns have worked everything’ (PK-AS-18B-a2 [Pinault, 1984b]). +∎A derivative of lāṃs, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lākṣ +(n.) +‘lac’ (a medical ingredient)
+[lākṣ -, -//] +(W- passim). +∎From BHS lākṣā-. +

+ + +
+

+lāñe +(nf.) +‘flood’
+[lāñe, -, lāñ//lāñi, -, -] +mäkte tne lāñe nak ṣäṃsarmana taṃtsäṣṣäṃ pya[py]aiṃ kauṣäṃ okonta ‘as the flood destroys the seeds, scatters the flowers, and kills the fruits’ (33b7), swāsäskau keṃtsa tsainwāṣṣai l[ā]ñsa ‘I rain on the earth with a flood of weapons’ (93b4). +‣On the basis of the Sanskrit equivalence at H-ADD.149.79a5, Couvreur suggests (followed by VW:257) that lāñe means ‘autumn’ (i.e., that it is the translation of BHS śarat-). However, it seems just as likely that the Tocharian translation of śarat- is lost in the lacuna and that lāññe war is the translation of -salila- ‘water, flood, etc.’ Thus we return to the translation offered by Sieg and Siegling (1949), ‘Hochwasser,’ that allows us to include under this lemma the two attestations in the Weber-McCartney MS. + -- lāñäññe* ‘prtng to a flood’: /// lāññe war keräṣṣeñca = BHS (śarat)salilahāsini (H-ADD.149.79a5 [Couvreur, 1966:178]). +∎If correctly identified as to meaning, we perhaps have a trace of a PIE *leh₂- ‘± fill with water, flood’ seen in Hittite lahw- ‘pour’ (< *leh₂-w-) and maybe Latin lāma ‘slough, bog, fen’ (< *‘flooded ground’?) (MA:448). Also possible, though to my mind less likely, is Isebaert's connection (1987a) with Lithuanian vilnìs ‘wave’ from PIE *wḷh_xni- (and thus related to yolme, q.v.), despite his insistence on a translation ‘autumn.’ Isebaert would derive the Tocharian from the same form as the Lithuanian, but since PIE *-ṚH- seems to have given Tocharian -äR- (cf. pärweṣṣe ‘first’ from *pṛh₃wo- or pällent- ‘full (of the moon)’ from *pḷh₁no-), we would probably have to reconstruct *wle/oh_xni- which makes the Lithuanian-Tocharian equation less compelling. +

+ + +
+

+lātk- +(vt.) +‘cut off’
+Ps. VI /lātknā-/ [AImpf. //-, -, latkanoyeṃ]; Ko. V /lātkā-/ [Inf. lātkatsi]; Pt. I /lātkā-/ [MP -, lātkātai, -//] (K-T). +yetse tsäkṣyeñ-c kektseñmeṃ latkanoyeñ-c misa po ‘they flayed thy skin, they cut off thy flesh from [thy] body’ (231a5); käryortantäṃts lātkatsi kektseñ wsā[sta] ‘thou didst give [thy] body to be cut up by the merchants’ (239b3). +∎Etymology unknown. AB lātk- reflect PTch *lātk- but extra-Tocharian connections, if any, are unknown. Not likely is VW's suggestion (1941:55, 1976:257-8) that sees in it a PIE *wlōd- from PIE *wled- seen in Middle High German letzen ‘wound.’ Certainly not with Couvreur (1947:61, fn. 40) is there any relationship with Latin laedere ‘wound.’ +

+ + +
+

+lāntsa +(nf.) +‘queen’
+[lāntsa, lāntsoy, lāntso//lantsona (K-T), -, -] +Ylaiñikteṃ [lege: Ylaiñikte] Śaci lāntsompa ‘Indra with [his] queen Śaci’ (296b8). + -- lantsoṣṣe* ‘prtng to the queen’: tāṃ telkiṣṣe maṇḍālmeṃ ltusai lantsoṣṣai [wertsyai] ‘the queen's retinue having emerged from the maṇḍala of sacrifice’ (345a2). +∎A feminine derivative of walo, q.v. (As if) from PIE *wleh_antyeh_a-. +

+ + +
+

+Lābhasatkār* +(n.) +the name of a Buddhist work [‘honoring acquisition’]
+[-, -, Lābhasatkār//] +(S-4a5). + -- lābhasatkārṣṣe ‘prtng to the honoring of acquisition’ (277a1). +∎From BHS *lābhasatkara- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+lāre +(adj.) +‘dear, beloved’ [lāre yām- ‘to love’ (tr.)--takes an accusative object]
+[m: lāre, larepi, lareṃ(voc. lāre)//lareñ, -, larenäṃ ~ lareṃ (voc. lareñ)] [f:-, -, laryai (voc. lariya)//-, -, larona] +ṣ[añ] śaults=olypo lareno ‘by his own very dear life’ (14b5), lareṃ weṃ no mā eñcareṃ ‘[if] one speaks a friendly [word], and not an unfriendly one’ [lareṃ = BHS priyam] (20a8), tsremar lareṃ s_äswaśkaṃ meṃ ‘I am separated from [my] dear children’ (46a4), empreṃ pilko lāre pyāmtsar ‘love the true insight!’ (128a5), kwīpe lāre yamaṣṣeñca = BHS hrīniṣevi (306a1), lāre yamīträ = BHS bhajeta (308a3), lāre yamaṣälyi = BHS sevitavyā (308a4), lāre yamasträ = BHS upasevate (308b8), rṣākeṃts lānte śeśśarsoṣ yänmoym īke kekesoṣ cwī larempa ‘known by the king of seers may I obtain the extinguished place with his love’ (S-3a6=S-4a1), papālaṣ cau aiśaumyeṃts krentaṃts lareṃ ‘this [thing] praised by the wise and dear to the good’ (S-3b5). + -- lareṣṣe* ‘dear, beloved’: pātär-mātär-s_äsūwerṣṣe lareṣṣana ñemna ‘the dear names of father, mother, children’ (266a2/3); +
+lare-yok ‘lovelike, dear’: lare-yok karuntsa ‘with lovelike pity’ (72a2). +∎From a virtual PIE *leh_ad-ro- ‘dear’ [: Russian ladyj ‘dear,’ lada ‘wife,’ Lycian lada ‘wife’] (Winter, 1965a:191; MA:358). Not with VW (629), that we have a borrowing from some Prakrit derivative of the root that appears in Sanskrit as lal- ‘play, amuse oneself, disport’ (cf. Hindi lāṛ ‘affection, tenderness,’ etc.) nor with Hilmarsson (1991:124) who takes it to be inherited from a putative *wlh_x-ró- (I would prefer *wleh_x-ro-) from the root *w(e)lh_x- ‘want, wish’ (cf. P:1137). +

+ + +
+

+lāl- +(vi.) +G ‘exert oneself, strive for’; K ‘tire (tr.), subjugate’
+G Ps. IX /lāläsk^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, lalaścer, -; Ger. lalaskemane]; Ko. IV /lāli-/ [Inf. lalyitsi]; "Intensive" Pt. (Pt. VII) /lālyiyā-/ [A -, lal(yi)yasta, -]; PP /lālālo-/; +
+K Ps. IX /lāläsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, lāläṣṣäṃ//] (K-T). +/// lalyi lalyitsi ṣkas pāramitänta it[e] yāmtsi (580a2); pernerñesa l[a]lyasta nette-[sū]trä akalṣlyeśc yamṣa-c perne [poyśiññe] ‘through glory hast thou exerted thyself; the Nīti-sūtra has brought thy Buddha-worth to the disciple’ (203a2), [po]yśiñ=ikeś lalyyasta pernerñenta kraupāt[ai] ‘thou hast striven for the position of a Buddha; thou hast gathered distinctions’ (206a3=249a1); pilycalñene lalālu laukito rṣāke tākaṃ ‘having made much effort in zeal, the guest will be a seer’ (107a6), mā lalālu mā ṣpä śakets so_i lalaitau ṣamāñemeṃ mäsketär ‘having made no effort and having deviated from monasticism, he is no son of the Śakyas’ (333a5). +∎Probably (with VW:256-7) we should connect this word with PIE *leh₁d- ‘be fatigued,’ Gothic lētan ‘allow, let,’ Albanian lodh ‘tire (tr.),’ etc. (P:666; MA:588)] (VW:256-7). VW suggests a denominative origin from *lh₁d-l-, but perhaps we have a special phonetic development of of pre-Tocharian *-δn- in a nasal present (*ləδnə- < *lh₁d-n(e)h_a-, cf. Albanian lë ‘let’ (< *lədnō). +See also lalyiye and alālätte and, more distantly, ylāre. +

+ + +
+

+läk- +(vt.) +G ‘see; look at; catch sight of; visit’ [(vi.) ‘look’]; K ‘make see, show’
+G Ps. IX /läkāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A lkāskau, lkāst, lkāṣṣäṃ//-, -, lkāskeṃ; MP -, lkāstar, lkāstär//; AImpf. lkāṣṣim, -, lkāṣṣi//-, -, lkāṣyeṃ; Ger. lkaṣṣälle; APart. lkaṣṣeñca; MPPart. lkāskemane]; Ko. V /läkā-/ (in the middle also = Ps.) [A lakau, lkāst, lakaṃ/ /lkām, lkācer, lakaṃ MP -, -, lkātär//-, -, lkāntär; AOpt. lkoym, -, lakoy//-, lkoycer, lkoyeṃ; MPOpt. //-, -, lkoyentär; Inf. lkātsi; Ger. lkālle ‘visible’]; Ipv. (see pälk-); Pt. Ib /lyākā-/ [A lyakāwa, lyakāsta, lyāka//lyakām, lyakās(o), lyākar ~ lyakāre; MP -, lyakātai, lyakāte//-, -, lyakānte]; PP /lyelyäku-/ (and rarely /leläku-/ [see the absolute]); +
+K Ps. IX /läkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MPPart. lakäskemane]; Pt. IV /läkäṣṣā-/ [A -, -, lakäṣṣa//] + proskaiṃ lkāṣṣäṃ wrotsana ... nraine tänmasträ lkāṣṣäṃ lkle[nta] ‘he sees great terrors ... he is [re-]born in hell and sees sufferings’ (14b4), pilko[s=ā]ñmālaṣkeṃ lkāṣṣän-me ‘with a compas-sionate glance he looks at them’ (88a6), eśanetstse no mā lkāṣṣäṃ = BHS cakṣuṣmān vā na paśyati (H-149.236 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:496]); lkāsträ ṣäñ āñmä ‘he sees himself’ (121a5); Puttisene ce sankrām lkāṣi taiseṃ terisa cowai carka ‘whatever monastery P. visited, he robbed in the same fashion’ (DAM.507a8 [Pinault, 1984a]), kälymiṃ läkāṣyeṃ cey ‘they looked [in every] direction’ (108b5); ekäṣ saimacce yak vijñāṃ lkāṣeñca se [lkāṣeñca = BHS darśanaṃ?] (194b6), etsarkällecci cmelle ktsaitsäññentse āke lkāṣṣeñcañ = BHS ātāpino jātijarāntadarśinaḥ (U-2a4); lakaṃ [sg.] klyauṣäṃ wat yark=alyekepi ‘he sees or hears of the honor [paid] to another’ (33b4/5), śwālyai ālyine naumyeṣṣe kṣātre l[k]ā[st] ‘thou wilt see a jeweled umbrella on the right palm’ (567a2); su lkāträ ñyatsene ‘he is seen in danger’ (255a3), kautaläñe wetsentse misāṃts lkāntär-c īlārñe ‘fissures in thy skin and limpness of thy flesh are seen’ (5b6); lkoym-c kr_ui ynemane ypauna kwṣainne ‘whenever I would see thee going among lands and villages’ (246a1); lkātsiśc = BHS darśanāya (PK-NS-12a3 [Couvreur, 1967[1969]: 153]), [in Manichean script] [l]k’sy (Winter/Gabain [1958:11]); cwī lkāllona läklenta ‘his sufferings [are] visible’ (81a6), mā ṣ pāträ [lkā]lle nest ‘thou wilt not be able to see [thy] father’ (85b6); Indre kārpa rṣākäññe weṣ myāskate stām ñor cau lmoṣ lyakāre ‘Indra descended and changed into the guise of an ṛṣi and those seated under the tree saw him’ (107a7), kälymiṃ läkāṣyeṃ ... ṣ lyakār-ne ‘they were looking [in all] directions and they caught sight of him’ (108b5); lyelyaku = BHS dṛṣṭaṃ (H-ADD.149.79a1 [Couvreur, 1966:178]); raddhi ceyknesa lakäṣṣa-me ‘he showed them in this fashion the magical power’ (108b4). +‣The paradigm is completed by pälk-, q.v. + -- lyelyakor ‘perception, observation’: lyelyako[r] = BHS dṛṣṭaṃ (196b6); +
+lyelykormeṃ: läklessont lyelyäkormeṃ ‘having seen the suffering one’ (123a7), [Ā]nandeṃ lelkormeṃ ‘having seen Ānanda’ (A-2a1); +
+lkālläññe ‘sight, insight’: kly[omo] lkālñesa k_use kekenu tākaṃ tne ‘the noble one who may be provided with insight’ (14a7). +
+lakäṣñe ‘proof, manifestation’: [tu-]yknesāk kekamoṣepi raddhi lakäṣñe ste ‘magical power is the proof of the one thus come [scil. the Buddha]’ (108b7); +
+lakäṣñeṣṣe ‘prtng to proof or manifestation’ (108b4); +
+lelakäṣṣor ‘?’: /// l[e]lakäṣṣor tāka (178b1). +∎AB läk- reflect PTch *läk-, probably from PIE *leǵ- ‘gather’ [: Greek légō ‘pick up; count, tell,’ (later) ‘say,’ Latin legō ‘pick up, gather; pick out (sounds, sights), scan, read, peruse,’ Albanian mbledh (< *h_aemb^hi-leǵe/o-) ‘gather, collect, pick’ (P:658)]. The Tocharian meaning reflects ‘gather with the eyes’ or the like and is partially paralleled in Latin. In West Germanic we have Old English lōcian, Old Saxon lōcōn ‘look,’ in origin an iterative-intensive of this root (PIE *lōǵeh_aye/o-), exactly matched morphologically by Doric lōgáō (in turn semantically equivalent of légō). Other semantic parallels are OHG lesen ‘gather; read’ and Spanish catar ‘look’ from Latin captāre ‘lay hold of, snatch, chase.’ The Tocharian present läkā- corresponds to Latin *legā- seen in ēlegans, etc. The TchB preterite lyāka (= A imperfect) from *li̯ēk-ā- matches Latin lēgī and Albanian mblodha (< *h_aemb^hi-lēǵ-). Holthausen (1932-34:205) compared the Tocharian words with look, etc. (cf. also Anreiter, l987b:100-106); Lane (1948:307- 308) compared the Tocharian words with Latin legere, etc. No one has heretofore brought the Tocharian, Germanic and Latin-Albanian-Greek forms together. Also possible phonologically is a derivation from the zero-grade of PIE *leuk- (the phonologically rebuilt zero-grade is seen in luk-), as preferred by Meillet and Lévi, 1911:462, VW:258. The preterite/imperfect lyākā- from PTch *li̯ēkā- would be a neological vṛddhi to the zero-grade läk-. +

+ + +
+

+läk_utsetstse +(adj.) +‘shining, bright, brilliant’
+[läk_utsetstse, -, läk_utsecce//läk_utsecci, -, -] [f: //läk_utsetstsana, -, -] +sū[rya]kāṃtṣi kerci ramt läktseci ‘like bright swords of sun-crystal’ (73b4), [kauṃ] pärkasta läktsetse ‘thou didst rise [like] the brilliant sun’ (207a1). +∎A derivative of lak_utse, with the same meaning. +

+ + +
+

+läkt_usauña +(nf.) +‘light, radiance, brilliance’
+[läk_utsauña, -, läk_utsauñai//] +cpī kaunänts[e pudñä]kteṣṣepī läk_utsewña ste ‘it is his light of the Buddha-sun’ (135a6), meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña ‘the light of moon and stars’ (154b2), läktsauña = BHS prabhayā (311a3). +∎An abstract noun derived from lak_utse, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+läkleṣṣe, läklessu +See lakle. +

+ + +
+

+läksaññe +See laks. +

+ + +
+

+länk- +(vt.) +G ‘hang’; K ‘let hang, dangle’
+G Ps. I /länk-/ [MPPart. länkamane]; Ps. VIII /länks^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, länksentär]; Ko. I /länk-/; Ipv. I /p(ä)länk-/; +
+K Ps. IX /länkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MPPart. lankäskemane] +(H-149-ADD.13b2 [K]); (H-149-ADD.118a1 [K]); kampāl mā päst kalatar matsisa kauc lankäm-c ‘[if] you thou dost not bring the garment, we will hang thee high by [thy head]hair’ (PK-AS-18A-b3 [Thomas, 1978:239]); plaṅso-ne ‘hang [pl.] him!’ (K-T); mā wätsitse [lege: wästsitse] kepec ette lankaskemane yanmaṣṣälle 21 mā kepec ette länkäskemane osne ṣmalle ‘one [is] not to enter dangling the border of the garment 21; one [is] not to sit in a house dangling the border’ [= BHS vikṣiptika- or vinyastika-, neither of whose meanings is clearly known] 322a4/5. +∎AB länk- (cf. also A ylankaṃ ‘in suspense’) reflect PTch *länk- from PIE *leng- [: Sanskrit rangati ‘moves (intr.) back and forth,’ Lithuanian lingúoti ‘swing, move back and forth,’ and other nominal derivatives in Baltic, Slavic, and Albanian (P:676; MA:62)] (VW, 1941:55, VW:260). The semantic development is from ‘swing’ to ‘hang.’ Less likely is a connection with *lenk- ‘bend’ (Couvreur, 1950:129). +See also lenke and länkamo*. +

+ + +
+

+länkamo* +(adj.) +‘hanging, pendulous’
+[f: /länkamñane, -, -/] +länkamñane päścane ‘pendulous breasts’ (PK-NS-102b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:98]). +∎An adjectival derivative of länk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lät- +(vi.) +‘go out, emerge’ [often in the phrase ostmeṃ lät- ‘leave home’ > ‘become a monk’; wrattsai lät- ‘go towards’]
+G Ps. X /lätnäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A lnaskau, -, lnaṣṣäṃ//lnaskem, -, lnaskeṃ; AImpf. lnaṣṣi//; MPPart. lnaskemane]; Ko. I /lätn-/ [A lannu, -, laṃ//; AOpt. läññim (?), lyñit, laññi//läññem (?), -, lañyeṃ; Inf. lantsi]; Ipv. VI /p(ä)lät-/ [APl. platstso] (DA-2b3 [K]); Pt. VI /lät-/ [latau, lac (~ lat), lac/-, -, ltais/-, latso, lateṃ]; PP /l(ä)tu(we)-/ (most commonly in the quasi-compound ostmeṃ ltu ‘monk’ [< *‘one who has left home’]); +
+K Ps. IX /lätnäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, lannäskeṃ]; Ipv. VI /p(ä)lyätsā-/ [MPSg. plyatstar] +n[e]rvā[n]äś po aiwolyci mäskentär lnask[eṃ] ostmeṃ ‘they are all directed to nirvana and go out from [their] house’ (30b1); [ka]ntwo koynameṃ parna lnaṣṣi-ne ‘his tongue emerged from [his] mouth’ (88a1); lnaskemane mokocmeṃ yenteṃ lkāṣṣäṃ ‘he sees the winds emerging from the big toe’ (41b4); tumeṃ ñīś lannu ‘then I will emerge’ (PK-AS-17D-a4 [Pinault, 1991]), läṃ saṃsārṣṣe pelemeṃ ‘he will emerge from the prison of the saṃsāra’ (274b5); läññam [lege: läññem < *laññyem (1pl. opt.) or läññim (1sg. opt.)] (H-149.153a2 [K]), lyñit [t]ve läklemeṃ ‘may thou emerge from pain’ (295b6), waiyke-reki mantanta läññi-ñ koynmeṃ ‘may never a lying word emerge from my mouth’ (S-3a6), [ono]lmi ostameṃ laññeṃ [sic < *läññyeṃ] (391b6); ostmeṃ lantsi camñcer ‘you can leave home’ (108a5); latau ostmeṃ ‘I left home’ (400b3), kr_ui twe pärweṣṣa [lege: pärweṣṣe] läc mātri kektseñmeṃ ‘if thou hast earlier emerged from [thy] mother's body’ (224a2/3), lat twe ostameṃ ‘thou didst leave home’ (384a4), Sudarśaneṃ pañäkte wrattsai lac ‘thou didst go towards the buddha S.’ (Qumtura 34.g7 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]), pūdñäkte lac lenameṃ [tso]nkaiko ‘the Buddha emerged from [his] cell at dawn’ (5b3), wace meṃne Puñcaiyśe aṣkār lac ‘in the second month P. went back’ (G-Su26), te weweñ[o]rmeṃ ltais ñaktene ‘having said this the two gods went out’ (88b5), latso ñk=ostameṃ kselñeṣṣ=akālksa ‘you left your homes because of the wish for nirvana’ (33a8); läntäs[k]eṃ[n]e /// [lege: lännäskeṃ] (522b8); [ostmeṃ] plyatstsar-me tsalpäṣṣar-me [lklemeṃ] ‘call us out of the house; free us from suffering!’ (108a9). +‣The certainly subjunctive forms are only two in number: the first person singular lannu and the third person singular laṃ (< *lannäṃ). Certainly not belonging here is the supposed (by Krause, 1952) second person singular subjunctive, lat, of 384a4, which is a second person singular preterite. Thus we have a Class I subjunctive and the relationship between the present lätnäsk- and the subjunctive lätn- is exactly that of rinäsk- ‘renounce’ and its subjunctive rin- and probably sinäsk- ‘be depressed; depress’ and its subjunctive sin- (only attested in the abstract silñe). Krause (1952:192) takes the second person singular of the preterite to be lat (< *latät?). In the attested material a second person singular would appear to be found three times, twice as läc (224a2, Qumtura 34.g7) and once as lat (384a4). In the second case the lat is followed by the nominative pronoun tve (i.e. twe) and the -t of lat might be by assimilation from -c. If the second person singular is actually lac, then it would be the equivalent of Greek ēluthes (cf. infra). + -- lalñe ‘emergence, going out, departure, exit’: [ostmeṃ] lalyñe ṣamāññe ‘leaving the house for monasticism’ (35a6), lalñe = BHS niryāṇaṃ (543a6); +
+lalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to emergence, etc.’: [ostmeṃ] lalñeṣṣe akālk räskre tsänkā-ne ‘a strong wish to leave home arose to him’ (372b2). +∎AB lät- reflect PTch *lät- from PIE *h₁leud^h-independently, to Cowgill (reported by Winter) and Lane (both 1962) and is wrongly rejected by VW:259-60 (with previous literature). The present in -näsk- and the e latau, lac presents a remarkable correspondence with both Greek and Celtic: Greek ēluthon/ ēludhen, Old Irish lod/luid. All reflect PIE *h₁lud^h-óm/h₁lud^h-ét. The rest of the Tocharian paradigm is mostly from a PIE *h₁lud^h-nu-. This explanation goes back to Cardona (1960) and, independently, to Cowgill (reported by Winter) and Lane (both 1962) and is wrongly rejected by VW:259-60 (with previous literature). The present in -näsk- and the subjunctive in -n- are an iterative-intensive in *-nu-sḱe/o- and present *-nu- respectively. While *h₁leud^h- shows no evidence of a nu-present in Indo-European, both similarly conjugated verbs, rin- and sin-, do [: Sanskrit áriṇvan, asinvat]. The länt- of TchA is probably to be derived by metathesis from *lät’ñä-, the morphologically expected outcome of the strong grade *h₁lud^h-neu- (cf. the third person plural läñceñc rather than the *länteñc we would expect if we were dealing with an originally infixed verb (Jasanoff, p.c.). The assimilation of -tn- to -nn- is probably the regular outcome of this cluster in TchB. One should compare sänmetstse ‘entranced’ reflecting *sämne- < *supno-. Where found, the attested cluster -tn- (e.g. kätnā-) would appear to be the result of analogical restoration. +See also lut-. +

+ + +
+

+länt- +See lät-. +

+ + +
+

+läm- +See ṣäm-. +

+ + +
+

+läṣṭanta +(npl.) +part of a plant
+[//läṣṭanta, -, -] +/// pippāläṣṣana läṣṭanta wat śār taṣallona (W-12a6). +

+ + +
+

+li- +(vt.) +‘wipe away, cleanse oneself’
+Ps. IX /liyāsk^'ä/_e-]/ [MP -, -, l(i)yāstär//]; Pt. III /liyā(sā)-/ [A -, -, l(i)yāsa//]; PP /leliyu-/ +lyyastär (H-150.110a3 [K]); kārpa nāṣṣa lyyāsa wrenta po laikāte ‘he descended, bathed, wiped away all the dust, and washed himself’ (107b4); k_use po tārkaṃ enkalñanta [lege: -enta] po päst rintär wäntarwa pontäṃ krāstäṃ [sic] kerketseṃ | palsko leleyu [lege: leliyu?] po wäntarwameṃ ‘whoever releases all passions, gives up all things, cuts off fetters, [one who has] cleansed [his] spirit from all things’ (33a3). +‣On the basis of the TchA present stem lyās-, I read TchB lyyastär as a defective or dialectal spelling for *lyyāstär. (The TchA initial ly- has been restructured from expected *lyy- as yā is for (B) iyā-.) The meaning in TchA seems to be quite clearly ‘wipe away, sweep.’ In the active it takes as a direct object tkaṃ ‘earth, dirt’ (e.g. on a road) while in the middle we have as direct objects ‘blood’ and, especially ‘tear(s).’ The context of B-107b4 allows the same sort of meaning. Morphologically parallel to li-ā- and leli-u- are läk-ā- ‘see’ and lyelyäk-u-/leläk-u- (though the latter usually has palatalization and the former does not). +∎AB li-ā- reflect PTch *li-ā- from PIE *leih_x(-eh_a)-, otherwise seen only in Sanskrit līyate ‘disappear, vanish’ (VW:271). +

+ + +
+

+lik- +(vt.) +G (always middle) ‘wash’ [object: one's own body or part thereof]; ‘wash away, rid oneself by washing’ [object: ‘dirt,’ etc.]; K (active and passive) ‘wash’ [object: another person]
+G Ps. VI /lāikänā-/ [MP -, -, laikanatär//; Ger. laikanalle]; Ko. V /lāikā-/ [MP //-, -, laikontär; Inf. laikatsi]; Pt. Ib /lāikā-/ [MP -, -, laikāte//-, -, laikānte]; PP /lālāikā-/; +
+K Ps. VIII /liks^'ä/_e-/ [MPImpf. -, -, lyikṣītär//-, -, lyikṣyeṃ; Ger. lyikṣalle] +laikanaträ (H-150.110b4 [K]); kete āñme tākaṃ tweri ruwyenträ partāktaññe pitkesa ṣarne l[ai]kanalle ‘whoever has the wish that doors be opened [is] to wash [his] hands with camel spittle’ (M-3b1); ce yāmorsa laikontär-ñ käntwaṣṣana yāmornta ‘by this deed may my deeds of the tongue wash away/be washed away’ (241b5/6); kārpa nāṣṣa lyyāsa wrenta po laikāte ‘he descended, bathed, wiped off all the dust, and washed himself’ (107b4), k_use ksa llaikān[t]e [sic] yāmorṣṣana krakenta ‘whoever wash away the filths of deeds’ (244a4); nāskäṣyeṃ lyikṣ[y]e[ṃ-ne] ‘they bathed and washed him’ (42b7), sonopitär līkṣītär wästsanma krenta yäṣṣitär ‘he anointed himself, washed himself and put on good clothes’ (A-1a6); taka śāmna kwrāṣe malkwersa lyikṣalya ‘then a human skeleton [is] to be washed with milk’ (M-3b6). + -- lalaikarmeṃ: [pi]ntwāt ykuwermeṃ lalaikarmeṃ ṣarne ‘having gone begging and having washed [his] hands’ (1a5); +
+laikalyñe ‘washing away’: po tserekwa tuntse ñake laikalñe po saṃsārṣṣeṃ wnolmeṃmpa se ka ṣp tāko-ñ ‘all deceptions, may there be a washing away from me of them with all saṃsāra-beings’ [?] (271b2/3). +∎AB lik- reflect PTch *lik- probably from PIE *wleik^w- ‘liquid’ [: Latin liquēre ‘be clear, liquid,’ liquāre ‘clarify, filter, liquify,’ Old Irish fliuch ‘humid’] (Lane, 1938:23, VW:262-263). Watkins (1962:62, fn.3) suggests the semantically far more satisfying equation of PTch *lik- with PIE *neig(^w)- ‘wash’ [: Greek nízō ‘I wash,’ Old Irish nigid ‘washes,’ Latin pollingō (< *por-ningō)]. Watkins talks of "an assimilation of n- to l-" but there appears to be nothing to assimilate to here. Perhaps, however, we have some sort of conflation of PTch *lik- and **nik-. +See also laike and laiko. +

+ + +
+

+lit- +(vi.) +‘pass on, move’
+Pt. Ia /litā-/ [A -, -, lita//]; PP /lito-/ +te ṣarmtsa lita su Hetubālike bhavāggrä postäññe yai ‘for that reason H. passed on and went at last to the highest existence’ (282b7); somonaṃts no aṃtsanemeṃ litau aṃśuk ‘the aṃśuka-garment slipped off the shoulders of some [of them]’ (H-149-ADD.13b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:7]). +∎AB lit- reflect PTch *lit- from PIE leit(h_x)- ‘go (away)’ [: Avestan raēþ- ‘die,’ Gothic galeiþan ‘go,’ Old English līþan ‘go, travel,’ etc. (other Germanic cognates, P:672; MA:228)] (Lane, 1938:23, VW:263). +See also lait- and litk-. +

+ + +
+

+litk- +(vt.) +‘remove, avert’
+G PP /litku-/; +
+K Ps IX /litkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, lyitkäṣṣäṃ//; AImpf. -, -, lyitkäṣṣi//]; Ko. I/II /lyeitk-/ or /lyeitk^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, lyaitkeṃ]; Pt. III /leitk(sā)-/ [A //-, -, laitkar] +/// pilko litku rano käṣṣīññe ‘the teacher's gaze [was] withdrawn/averted’ (587a5); /// cau ykemeṃ ly[i]tkäṣ[ṣi] /// (108b2); ket ait yoktsi sātk=onwaññe pelaiykneṣṣe lyaitkeṃ teki mantanta ṣäp srukentär cai ‘to whomever thou givest to drink the immortal remedy of the law, they will avoid sickness and never die’ (212b3/4); soyāre laitkär tekī ‘they were satiated and avoided sickness’ (H-149-ADD.122a2 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]). +‣At least partially overlapping in meaning with the first causative of wik-, q.v. +∎AB litk- reflect PTch *litk- from PIE *leit-sḱe/o- the derived causative of *leit- ‘go (away)’ (Pisani, 1942-43a:26-27, VW:263-4). +See also lit- and lyitkw. +

+ + +
+

+li(n)- +(vt.) +‘± place’ [?]
+Ps. V. /linā-/ [Ger. linālle] +sanatse twerene lyinālle sāṃ nakṣträ ‘it [is] to be placed in the door of the enemy; the enemy is destroyed’ (M-3a8). +‣The reading with -n- rather than -t- is that of Filliozat (1948) and is insisted upon by Couvreur (1954c). Sieg (1954) reads -t- and, with Krause (1952), would combine this entry with lit-, q.v. The fact that this word is clearly transitive makes such a combination very unlikely. +∎From PIE *li-n(e)h_a- [: Hesychian línamai ‘trépomai’ (‘turn one's steps, turn in a certain direction; be turned in a certain direction’), Gothic aflinnan ‘go away,’ OE linnan ‘stop,’ etc. (P:661; MA:528)]. The Tocharian form shows a rebuilt zero-grade (see Adams, 1978), i.e. *läinā-. +

+ + +
+

+lip- +(vi.) +‘remain, be left over’
+Ps. III /lipe-/ [MP -, -, l(y)ipetär//-, -, l(y)ipentär]; Ko. V /lipā-/ [MP -, -, l(y)ipātär//; Inf. l(y)ipātsi]; Pt. Ia /lipā-/ [A -, -, lipa//]; PP /lipo-/. + [traidhā]tuk saṃsār tsakṣträ yke-postäṃ pwārs=ānityātṣe mā lipeträ ksa ‘the threefold saṃsāra burns step by step through the fire of inconstancy; nothing remains left over’ (46b3); malkwer ... päkṣalle ywārtsa lipāträ ‘milk [is] to be cooked, half will remain’ (FS-a5); mā su ksa l[i]pa ‘nothing remained’ (46b5). +∎AB lip- reflects PTch *lip- from PIE *leip- ‘remain’ [: Gothic bileiban ‘remain,’ Old English belīfan ‘id.,’ Old Norse leifa ‘remain over,’ etc. (P:670; MA:528)] (Meillet, 1911:633, VW:263). Whether or not this *leip- is ultimately the same as *leip- ‘smear with oil or fat’ attested widely in Indo-European (cf. Greek lípos (nt.) ‘fat, lard,’ Lithuanian lipaĩ (pl.) ‘glue’), in Tocharian lip-, Gothic bileiban we have a remarkable Tocharo-Germanic correspondence. +See also lipär*. +

+ + +
+

+lipär* +(n.) +‘remainder’ [usually found as part of quasi-compound snai-lipär ‘without remainder, remainderless, completely’]
+[-, -, lipär//] +[aknātsaññe]ṣṣ=orkamñe wīkäṣṣeñca snai lyīpär ‘destroying the darkness of ignorance [to the point that there is] no remainder’ (99b2), kektseñṣe indri cpi k_use lyīprä tākaṃ ‘bodily sense which will be a remainder [= will be left]’ (119b3), peri lyipär = BHS ṛṇaśeṣaṃ (H-ADD.149.62a5 [Couvreur, 1966:165]), snai lyipär = BHS aśeṣa- (U-23a5). +∎A derivative of lip-, q.v. (As if) from PIE *leipṛ. +

+ + +
+

+litsāve* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[//litsāvi, -, -] +kete tverene kātaṃ ceu osne śāmna litsāvi mäskeṃträ ‘[if] one strews [it] in the door of whomever; the people are litsāvi’ (M-2a4). +

+ + +
+

+lu- +(vt.) +‘send’
+Ps. III /lyewe-/ [MP -, -, lyewetär//-, -, lyewentär; MPImpf. -, -, lyewītär//; MPPart. lyewemane]; Ko. V /lāwā-/ [A -, -, lāwaṃ//]; Ipv. I /p(ä)lāwā-/ [ASg. plāwa]; Pt. Ia /lyuwā-/ [A lywāwa, lywāsta, lyuwa//]; PP /lyäwo-/ +śāmna [] wī [] Yurpāṣkaine [] lyewetär [] ṣe Waśampile ñem ‘he sends two people to Y., one [is] W. [by] name’ (LP-3a3), lyewentär ṣemi = BHS ///[pra]sthāpayanty eke (543a4), Mahāsaṃmati [lā]nte [e]piyacäññe lyewītär caumpaṣesa waṣamñe enkaṣṣitär ‘he sent a memento to king M. [in order that] he could make a friendship with him’ (PK-AS-16.3b6 [(Pinault, 1989:157]); [pī]to wat lāwä [sic] su pī[to] (316a2); parso ette paiyka śka plāwa ‘he wrote a letter; send [a reply]’ (492a2); parso lywāwa-ś plāś aṣkār mā lywāsta ‘I sent thee a letter [but] thou hast sent no [answer] back’ (492a3/4), lyuwa ṣ parkāsaṃ walo śtwāra kälymintsa ‘and the king sent a proclamation in four directions’ (21b2); lypaṣ [lege: lywoṣ] (492a2/3), wi dhatuṣṣa[na] lypauwa [lege: lywauwa] kleśanma ṣkas eṣemeṃ mäskentär-ne ‘the kleśas belonging to the two dhātus, altogether six [in number], have been sent away from him’ [?] (591a3). +‣The attested shape of the past participle would appear to be an "umgekehrter Schreibung" for the expected *ly(ä)wo- in a variety of TchB where intervocalic -p- often fell together with intervocalic -w- (K. T. Schmidt, 1986:640). +∎AB lu- reflect PTch *lu- from PIE *leu(h_x)- ‘cut off, separate’ [: Sanskrit lunāti ‘cuts (off),’ Greek lúō ‘loose, free,’ Latin luō ‘loose, free, pay off,’ etc. (P:681-2; MA:481)] (VW, 1941:54, VW:268). +

+ + +
+

+luk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘light up (intr.), be illuminated’; K ‘light (up) (tr.), illuminate, enlighten’
+G Ps. III /lyuke-/ [MP -, -, lyuketär//]; Pt. I /lyukā-/ [A -, -, lyuka//] (365a7); +
+K Ps. VIII /luks^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, lukṣäṃ//; MP -, -, lukṣtär//-, -, luksentär; AImpf. -, -, lukṣi//]; Ko. II /lyuk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, lyuśtär//; Inf. lyuç(t)si]; Pt. III /l(y)euk(sā)-/ [A -, -, lyauksa//-, -, lyaukar; MP -, -, lauksāte//lyuksamte, -, -]; PP /lyelyuku-/ +mäkte lwasāntso auṣuwaṃts ṣesa lyuketrä yṣīye ‘as, the animals dwelling together, the night lights up’ (46a7); aiyśamñeṣṣai läk_utsauwñaiysa lukṣtär ‘he is illuminated by the light of knowledge’ (214a1/2); ///epastyu śaiṣṣe lyuśsi ñakremeṃ ‘[thou], adept at illuminating the world from darkness’ (244b3); pudñäkte gangavāluk nauṣaṃñi läktsauñaisa ... lyaukar śaiṣṣeṃ ‘the earlier buddhas, [as numerous as] Ganges-sand, illuminated worlds through [their] brilliance’ (unpubl. Paris [Couvreur, 1954c:90]), pelaikneṣṣai läktsauñaisa lyuksamtte ‘we illuminated/ were illuminated through the light of the law’ (PK-14B-a5 [ibid.]); dhyananmaṣṣana swañcaints=enenmeṃ lyelyūkusa sū[rya]kāṃtṣi kerci ramt läktseci ‘illuminated from within by dhyana-rays like bright swords of sun-crystal’ (73b3/4). + -- lalaukar* ‘light, illumination’: [yṣi]ntse lalaukarne ‘in the nighttime light’ (568a4). +∎AB luk- reflect PTch *luk- (with rebuilt zero-grade *läuk-) from PIE *leuk- [: Sanskrit rocate ‘illuminates, shines,’ lokate/locate ‘sees,’ Avestan raok- ‘shines,’ Khotanese rrutc- ‘id.,’ Greek leússō ‘see,’ Old Latin lūceō ‘let (a light) shine,’ Hittite lukk- ‘be bright; dawn,’ Lithuanian láukiu ‘wait (for someone),’ and many nominal derivatives (P:687-690; MA:505)] (Meillet and Lévi, 1911:462-3, VW:269). The Tocharian and Latin are particularly close. Latin reflects a PIE stative *leuk-eh₁- while Tocharian reflects *leuk-h₁-ó-. The original zero-grade gives läk- in lak_utse and its derivatives. +See lukṣaitstse, lyukemo, and lyūke; more distantly, compare lak_utse, läk_utsetse, läk_utsauña, and ¹ruk-. +

+ + +
+

+lukṣaitstse +(adj.) +‘± brilliant’
+[m: lukṣaitstse, -, -//] +/// [ya]tālñesa lukṣaittse wätkāltse /// (405a6). +∎An adjectival derivative of an unattested *lukṣā-, itself a nominal derivative from the present stem of luk-, q.v. See Hilmarsson's discussion (1991:126). +

+ + +
+

+lut- +(vi./vt.) +[active] ‘drive out, expell, banish,’ [middle] ‘go beyond’
+Ps. IX /l(y)utäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A lyutaskau, -, lutaṣṣäṃ//-, -, lyutaskeṃ; MP -, -, lutastär//-, -, lutaskentär; APart. lutaṣṣeñca]; Ko. I/II /lyut-/ or /lyut^'ä/_e-/ [A //lyutem, -, -; MP -, -, lyutätär//; AOpt. lyūci, -, -//; Inf. lyutsi]; Pt. III /lyeut(sā)-/ [A lyautwa, -, lyautsa//-, lyautso, lyautar; MP lutsāmai, lyutsātai, -//-, -, lyutsānte] +ṣeske yolo lyutaskau ‘only evil do I drive out’ (TEB-63-02), ātstse lutäṣṣäṃ ‘it drives out thickness [of wits]’ (W-36a6), ṣuktañce kauṃ lyutasken-ne ‘on the seventh day they drive them out’ (M-3b1); lutas[k]entr ostmeṃ ‘they are driven from [their] homes’ (15b5=17b7); smāṃ yāmoṣ ātstse lutaṣṣeñca ‘[the treatment] repeated, banishing thickness [of wits]’ (W-22b2); kampāl mā päst kalatar temeñce pästä lyutem-cä ‘[if] thou dost not bring the garment, then we will drive thee out’ (337b1); lyutätär =? BHS prakramiṣyati (328a1); walo cew enkormeṃ pyāśi-ne śanmäṣṣi-ne wat ypoymeṃ wat lyucī-ne ‘the king having seized him, beat him, bound him, and drove him from the country’ [lyucī = BHS pravāsayed] (H-149-ADD.8a5 [Thomas, 1974:102]), yātka-me walo lyutsi po ypoymeṃ ‘the king ordered them to be driven out from the whole country’ (18a2); k_uce ñiś śtwer s_äsūwa ypoymeṃ lyautwa snai tränko ‘that I have driven [my] four sinless sons from the land’ (PK-13E-a2 [Couvreur, 1954c:89]); yāmṣate ñiśś erkatte lyautsa-ñ päst ṣañ ypoymeṃ ‘he treated me evilly; he drove me out of the land’ (81a3); peprutkoṣ lyutstsatai tallāñc ce [śaiṣ]-ṣ[e] ‘thou hast gone beyond this suffering world’ (520a3), [A]raṇemiṃ lānte ypoy[n]tse salyai lyutstsante ‘they went beyond the border of king A.'s land’ (86a5). +∎TchA lut- and B lut- reflect PTch *lut- (< *läut- with rebuilt zero-grade: cf. Adams, 1978) from PIE *h₁l(e)ud^h- [: Greek eleússomai ‘I will come, go,’ ēludhen ‘he came, went,’ Old Irish luid ‘went’ < *h₁lud^het) (P:306-307; MA:228)] (VW, 1941:59, 1976:269-270). +See also lät-, generalized from *h₁lud^h- with no rebuilt zero-grade. +

+ + +
+

+lup- +(vt.) +‘rub lightly with a liquid, smear [neutral]; besmirch, defile, sully [in malam partem]’
+Ps. VIII /lups^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, lupṣtär//; Ger. lupṣalle]; Ko. V /lāupā-/ [A laupau, -, -//; AOpt. -, -, laupoy//]; Pt. Ib /lāupā-/ [A //-, -, laupāre; MP -, -, laupāte//]; PP /lālāupā-/ +ceṃ ksa yāmtär appamāt wrocce lupṣtär nraisa ‘[if] this one acts badly to another, he will be besmirched by a great hell’ (31b1=32a4), kwri sū krauptär waipeccenta wrocce lupṣtär nākimpa ‘if he accumulates possessions, he is sullied with a great fault’ (33a6/7), śāmñe pitke /// eśane epinkte pärwāne wat no lupṣale ‘human spittle [is] to be smeared between the eyes or the eyebrows’ (M-3b5); pelaikneṣṣe wars= āstreṃ kleśanmaṣṣe krāke ceṃts po päst lau[pau] ‘I will rub away the kleśa-filth with the pure water of the law’ (408b6), wace ṣarsa [saṃ]tkenta laupoy-ne āñu yamī-ne ‘may he smear him with remedies with the second hand and give him peace’ (154b1); /// samak^. laupāre /// (260a3), (109a5); padum ramtä lalaupau krāke[sa] /// ‘as if a lotus sullied by filth’ (388a6). + -- laupalñe ‘anointing; unguent’: pilene sāṃtke laupalñe ra enkalñe (PK-NS-53b6 [Pinault, 1988]), lauwalñe = NHS lepa- (Y-3a5). +∎AB lup- reflect PTch *lup- from PIE *(s)leub^(h)- ‘slip, glide’ [: Latin lūbricus ‘slippery,’ Gothic sliupan ‘slink, crawl,’ Old English slūpan ‘glide, slide,’ Old English slīepan ‘slip on or off,’ Old English slīefan ‘put on (clothes)’ (P:963-4)] (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:152, VW:269), possibly crossed semantically with a PTch *lip- from PIE *leip- ‘smear fat or oil’ (P:670, see also lip-). +See also laupe. +

+ + +
+

+luwo +(nnt.) +‘animal; animal/bird’ [birds are lwāsa ṣlyamñana while animals sensu stricto are lwāsa ynamñana]
+[luwo, lwāntse, luwa//lwāsa, lwasāṃts, lwāsa] +kowän lwāsa ṣlyamñana ynamñana ‘he will kill flying and running animals’ (29b8), salamo luwo ‘a flying animal’ (404a3), lwāsa ṣñār wṣeñ-ñ[aṃne] ‘the animals each in is own lair’ (518b2), wsets[a]na lwāsane ‘among poisonous animals’ (575b1), wärttoṣṣeṃ luwāsa ‘forest animals’ (PK-NS-12a4 [Couvreur, 1967[1969]: 153]). +‣TchA has singular lu, plural lwā/lwāk- corresponding to B singular luwā-, plural lwāsā-. The singular forms reconstruct to a PTch *luwā- (cf. the TchA gen. sg. lwes which is the exact equivalent of B lwāntse) but the plural forms are more difficult. Similarly to VW (267-8), I take A lwāk- to be from another, derived, paradigm, PTch *lwāke- ‘animal’ with the same suffix we see in A śiśäk/B ṣecake ‘lion,’ q.v. (VW would see in the *-ke- an adjectival suffix). + -- lwāññe ‘prtng to an animal/animals’: kete ā[ñm]e [tsä]lpātsi lwāññe cmeṃlmeṃ [sic] ‘to whomever [is] the desire to be freed from an animal birth’ (575a5/6); +
+lwasāṣṣe ‘pr ng to animals’ (574b2); +
+lwāsātstse* ‘containing animals’: lwasāce war = BHS saprāṇakenodakena (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1987:169]). +∎The singular forms reflect a PIE *luh_xeh_a- ‘animal of the chase’ most closely related to OCS lovъ ‘the chase’ (< *louh_xo-; cf. particularly Serbo-Croatian lõv ‘chase; game animal’) and Greek léōn ‘lion’ (< *‘predator’) (MA:23, 284). This etymon may reflect a remarkable shared semantic development of general Indo-European *leu(h_x)- ‘separate, cut off’ (see further discussion at lu- ‘send.’ Cf. VW (1941:57, 1976:268) who reconstructs *lh_xw- for the Tocharian and Slavic; he does not include léōn. The B plural formation (which, as the morphologia difficilior, may reflect the PTch state of affairs), may result from a cross of this etymon with a PTch *tsuwā ‘animal,’ reflecting PIE *d^heuh_xōs ‘animal’ [: Gothic dius ‘wild animal’ (< *d^heusó- , OCS duchъ ‘spirit,’ Albanian dash ‘ram’ (< *d^houso- ‘animal’), and perhaps Hittite antuhsa- ‘person,’ if that represents *en-d^huh₂so- ‘having breath inside’ (P:268-70, with other, semantically more distant, cognates; MA:82)]. +See also perhaps lu-. +

+ + +
+

+leṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(monastic) cell, resting place’
+[-, lenantse, leṃ/] +pūdñäkte lac lename[ṃ tso]nkaiko ‘the Buddha left [his] cell at dawn’ (5b3), omte leṃ paryāṃ yamasträ ‘there he makes [his] resting-place and [his] circuit’ (559a2). +∎From BHS layana- or, more probably, from a Prakrit descendent, e.g. Pali leṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+lek* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘movement, gesture’
+[-, -, lek//-, -, lekanma] + iryāpathänta śwāra yāmṣate lyama śama mas= orkäntai lek yamaṣṣa lyśalñeṣṣe ‘he practiced the four bodily postures/ movements: he sat, he stood, he went to and fro, and he made the gesture of lying down’ (108b5). +∎The TchB word may be a borrowing from A lek ‘id.’ and the latter may represent a PIE *loigo- [: Gothic galeiks ‘(dead) body,’ Lithuanian lygus ‘resembling’] or *loiko- [: OCS lice ‘face,’ Russian likъ ‘id.’] (VW:260). It is possible that the otherwise mysterious TchB laike, q.v., may be the native B form corresponding to A lek. +

+ + +
+

+leki* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘bed, resting place’
+[-, -, leki//] +śwātsi yoktsi leki sāṃtke ‘food, drink, a bed, and medicine’ (50b3), swañcaintsā lyelyukoṣne lekine ‘in [his] bed illuminated by rays’ (514a6). +∎TchA lake ‘id.’ and B leki reflect PTch *lekäi, a derivative of *leke. For the formation, see Adams, 1990a. +See leke*. +

+ + +
+

+leke* +(n.) +‘bed, resting place’
+[//-, -, lekeṃ] +lekenne r=eṅwaññ/// ‘as if in the beds of men’ [?] (119a1), leke asā[n] = BHS śayanāsanam (U-24a3). +∎TchA lak ‘bottom (of a river)’ (attested once in the perlative lakā at A-15a6) and B leke reflect PTch *leke from PIE *lóg^ho- (m.) [: Greek lókhos ‘ambush; place for lying in wait,’ Old Norse lag ‘layer, place,’ Serbo-Croatian lõg ‘lair, den; riverbed,’ Russian log ‘ravine,’ etc. (P:658-9; MA:57, 352)] (Lidén, 1916:36-7, VW:254, Winter, 1983:324-5). +See also leki, lyäk- and lyak. +

+ + +
+

+lekhāke +(n.) +‘copyist, scribe’
+[lekhāke, -, -//] +Munkare lekhāke paiyk[āmai] ‘[I], M. the copyist, have written [this]’ (PK-NS-14a2 [Couvreur, 1970:179]). +∎From BHS lekhaka-. +

+ + +
+

+lenke +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± valley; cleft’
+[lenke, -, -//] +ṣai ṣlīye lenke ‘it was a mountain valley’ (12a3). +‣For a discussion of the meaning, see Bailey, 1967:304. +∎A derivative of länk-, q.v. One should note also TchA ylankaṃ ‘pending, hanging loose’ (*yn- + *lenke *-ne, see Hilmarsson's discussion, 1991:185). +

+ + +
+

+ley- +See li-. +

+ + +
+

+leyīk +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[leyīk, -, -//] +(W-5b1). +

+ + +
+

+leśp* +(n.) +‘phlegm’ [one of three humors]; ‘froth, foam’
+[-, leśpantse, leśp//] +päścane leśpsa mäsketär ‘on the breast it becomes [covered] with froth’ (FS-b6), leśpantse = BHS kaphasya (Y-3a5). + -- leśpaṣṣe* ‘prtng to phlegm’: ṣotri pkarsaso kwärmatse leśpaṣṣepi ‘recognize the symptom of a phlegm-growth’ (FS-a4). +∎Borrowed from some Prakrit descendant of Sanskrit śleṣman- (VW:629). The treatment of the internal consonant cluster is similar to that seen in the Aśokan inscriptions of Shahbazgarhi and in Khowar (ispa ‘we’ < asmān, griṣp ‘summer’ < griṣmá-). +

+ + +
+

+lesto +(nf.) +‘nest, den, lair’
+[lesto, -, lestai//] +waiptār wloṣäṃ letseṃne po kälymintsa lwāsa ñi lestai yāmwa ‘the animals having made a nest everywhere in my disheveled locks’ (89a2), [rū]paṣṣe ātse taisa lkāṣṣälle mäkte wärmīya lesto ‘the element of form thus [is] to be seen as an ant's nest’ (154a5), sn[ai] parwā lestaimeṃ tsānkaṃ ‘he will rise from the nest without feathers’ (282b1). +∎The primary comparandum here is Old Prussian lasto ‘bed’ (Schmalstieg, 1976:266). The Balto-Tocharian correspondence presupposes a PIE *lo(C)steh_a-. Whether (with VW:261) we assume *log^h-steh_a- with *leg^h- ‘lie (down)’ is dubious. On the basis of VW's own examples, it would appear that old compounds with *-sth₂-o/eh_a- consist of a locative adverb (e.g. Avestan paiti-štā- ‘stay, sojourn’) or a nominal stem (e.g. OHG ewi-st ‘Schafstall’). A deverbative root noun *log^h- appears not to occur (cf. *leg^h- which does occur in B lyak ‘thief,’ q.v.). +

+ + +
+

+leswi +(n.[pl.]) +‘attacks of weakness’
+[//leswi, -, -] +tāy no trite kauṃ ṣai ~ eśuwacca mäskīträ ~ tumeṃ leswi eṅsata-ne [lege: eṅsate- ne] ~ yaka ynemane nauntaine klāya ‘now it was the third day that she had gone without eating; attacks of weakness seized her and still walking in the street, she fell’ [H-149.X.5a4 (Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎The exact equivalent of Gothic lasiws ‘weak.’ One should compare also Middle High German erleswen ‘grow weak’ and Old Norse lasinn ‘weak.’ The Gothic and Tocharian forms presuppose a late Indo-European *lósiwo-. In Tocharian the *-i- has become first *-ä- in the environment of both *-s- and *-w- and then disappeared in an open syllable (VW, 1972[74]:145, 1976:261, though the details differ; MA:637). The relationship, if any, to the words grouped by Pokorny (680) under the lemma *lē(i)-, is distant. +

+ + +
+

+letse +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘lock (of hair)’
+[letse, -,-//-, -, letseṃ] +waiptār wloṣäṃ letseṃne po kälymintsa lwāsa ñi lestai yāmwa ‘the animals having made a nest everywhere in my disheveled locks’ (89a2), śpālmeṃ lalaṃṣkaṃ mtsiṣṣeṃ letseṃ ‘excellent, soft, hair locks’ (PK-13F-a3 [Couvreur, 1970:178]). +∎From PIE *wlotyo- by an early metathesis (cf. sleme < *solmo-) from *woltyo- [: Old Irish folt ‘hair’ (< *wolto-), Greek lásios ‘thick with wool or hair’ (< *wḷtyo-) (P:1139ff, with many more, more distant, cognates)] (I ebaert, 1977:139-40). +

+ + +
+

+laike +(n.) +‘?’
+/// yente sekwe yasar laike /// (H-149.81a1 [Thomas, 1972b:446]). +‣It is just possible that we have here a native TchB form corresponding to the borrowed lek ‘gesture,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+laiko +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘bath, washing’
+[laiko, -, -//] +se laiko yetse astare yamaṣäṃ ‘this bath makes the skin pure’ (W-11b1), /// laiko tuceṃ ere nakṣäṃ ‘the bath destroys a yellow appearance’ (W-11b4). +∎A derivative of lik-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lait- +(vi.) +‘depart, pass away, deviate’
+Ps. IV /laito-/ [MP //-, -, laitontär; MPPart. laitomane]; Ko. V /lāitā-/ [A //-, -, laitaṃ]; Pt. Ib /lāitā-/ [A -, -, laita//]; PP /lālāitā-/ +nraimeṃ laitonträ lwāsane wat no pretenne wat tänmaskenträ ‘they move from hell and are [re-]born among animals and ghosts’ (K-7a5); mandra [lege: mant ra] lwāsameṃ pretenmeṃ laitaṃ śāmnāmeṃ wat laitaṃ wtentse tänmaskenträ nnok yśāmna ñäkteṃmeṃ wat no laitaṃ nnok yñakteṃ tänmaskenträ ‘so too [if] they pass from the animals or pretas or [if] they pass from men, they are born again among men; or [if] they pass from men, they are born again among men; or [if] they pass from the gods, they are born again among the gods’ (K-7a2); su mā ṣpä ṣamāne mäsketär mā lalālu mā ṣpä śakets so_i lalaitau ṣamāñemeṃ mäsketär ‘he is not a monk; he has made no effort, and having deviated from the monks, he is no son of the Śākyas’ (333a5/6). + -- laitalñe ‘falling/moving away’: mai ñi tākaṃ laitalñe wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe ‘will I perhaps fall from the great royal throne?’ (5a4). +∎Possibly an old denominative *lāitā- to a PTch *leite, in turn a deverbative noun from lit- ‘avert,’ q.v., (cf. klutk- [vb.] > kleutke [n.] > klāutkā- [vb.]). +

+ + +
+

+laitke* +(nm.) +‘creeper, vine, liana’
+[-, -, laitke//laitki, -, laitkeṃ] +laitke = BHS lātam (532a1), laitki atsi karakna ‘thick lianas and branches’ (554a4), laitkeṃ kautaṃ pyapyaiṃ taṃ tsäskeṃ ‘they cut down lianas and scatter flowers’ (589a3). +∎TchA letke and B laitke reflect PTch *leitke/leitkäi. They look like a regular tomos-derivative of a verb *litk- (cf. klautke from klutk-). There is, of course, litk- ‘pass on’ which would form a phonologically appropriate base form. VW (262) rejects any connection with litk- because of the difference in meaning but one might compare English ‘creeper’ here as a possible semantic parallel. +

+ + +
+

+laiwo* +(n.) +‘± lassitude’
+[-, -, laiwo//] +snai laiwo ṣpane = BHS atandrita (31a5). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (253-4) who connects it with Latin laevus ‘left,’ etc. (also MA:349). +

+ + +
+

+lokadhātu* +(n.) +‘region or part of the world’
+[//-, -, lokdhātunta] +(567b2). +∎From BHS lokadhātu-. +

+ + +
+

+loke +See lauke. +

+ + +
+

+loträ +(n.) +‘(variety of) Symplocos racemosa Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[loträ, -, -//] +(P-2a3). +∎From BHS lodhra-. +

+ + +
+

+lope +See laupe. +

+ + +
+

+loharaje +(n.) +‘ironrust’
+[loharaje, -, -//] +{326b3}. +∎From BHS loharajas-. +

+ + +
+

+lau +(adv.) +(a) ‘afar’ [with verbs of rest]; (b) ‘far’ [with verbs of motion]; ‘very’; (c) lau tärk- ‘relinquish, release’
+(a) lo lmoṣ ci rṣarkets [lege: rṣakets] lant ñaś winaskau ‘I honor thee [as] the king of the seers, seated afar’ (241a2), lo lmau tākoy mā keś wāyoy pāyalyñe ‘he is to sit afar and not pay attention [to] the singing’ (PK-15D-b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]); +
+(b) lau mā ṣ masa ‘and he did not go far’ (107a2), nano nano preksemane tanāpatentse palsko lau wäksetär tränkossu mäsketär ‘again [while there is] questioning again and again by the donor, the thought wanders far; he becomes guilty’ (331b1/2); +
+(c) ṣañ wrat lau tärkanacer ‘you release your own vow’ (107a8), ceyna cāneṃ lau c[ä]rkāwa-ś po ‘I have relinquished to thee all these cānes’ (495b1). +∎Etymology dubious. TchA lo and B lau are presumably related in some fashion to lauke (A lok), q.v. but whether it is, with Lane (1938:25), an enclitically shortened form of lauke or whether lauke is somehow a derivative of lau remains to be seen. VW (1941:54, 1976:265) sees this word as related in some fashion to PIE *leu(h_x)- ‘cut, detach’ (further s.v. lu-). The meaning would be from ‘detached’ or the like. +See also lauke and possibly lu-. +

+ + +
+

+laukaññe +(adv.) +‘for a long time’
+/// pwārne | saṃsārṣṣe stām laukaññe ‘the saṃsāra-tree burns (?) long in the fire’ (11b3), kos laukaññe ce wartton[e] /// ‘as long as [thou art] in the forest’ (363a6), aknā[tsa]ññ[e] surmesa k_use cey tākaṃ laukaññe eś lämoṣo ‘whoever will be blind for a long time by the cataract of ignorance’ (408b5). +∎A derivative of lauke. +

+ + +
+

+laukar +(adv.) +‘for a long time’ [Krause and Thomas] or ‘after a long time, finally’ [K. T. Schmidt, 1980:407]
+olyapotse māka śeśu ... laukar kwaräṣ raiweṃ sticce yamaṣṣäṃ śireṃ prakreṃ ‘eating too much makes the stool for a longtime sluggish and slow, hard and stiff’ (ST-a1). +∎Sieg (1954:70) suggests that laukar is a mistake for lauke. That is a possibility, but it would seem an unlikely sort of mistake and it is better to assume that we have here a rarer derivative of lauke, q.v., parallel to the more common laukaññe. +

+ + +
+

+laukito +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘stranger’
+[laukito, -, -//] +pilycalñene lalālu laukito rṣāke tākaṃ ‘having striven zealously, the stranger will be a seer’ (107a6). +∎TchA lokit ‘id.’ and B laukito reflect a PTch *laukitā-, a derivative of lauke, q.v. (VW:266). +

+ + +
+

+lauke +(adv.) +‘far (off); away’
+[lauke tā- ‘put aside’] +natknaṃ lauke aiśamñe yarke peti ñaṣtär ‘he pushes wisdom away and seeks honor and flattery’ (33b2/3), prāri raso pokai wat lauke ykuwa ‘they [have] come out a finger's [worth], or a span, or an arm's [worth]’ (41b4/5), lauke tattārmeṃ laṃntuñeṃ yetweṃ ‘having put aside the royal jewels’ (100b6), mā lauke stāna ñor lymāre ‘they sat, not far away, under the trees’ (107b2), wāya ci lauke ‘he led thee far’ (496a6). +∎TchA lok and B lauke reflect PTch *leuke. Perhaps this *leuke was originally an adjectival derivative (PIE *-ko-) from lau, q.v. (cf. VW:265-6). Otherwise Fraenkel (1932:16-7), Lane (1938:25), etc., who take it to reflect PIE *leuko- [: Sanskrit loká- ‘empty space, world,’ Latin lūcus ‘forest’]. +See also lau, laukaññe, laukar, laukito, and elauke. +

+ + +
+

+laute* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘moment, instantaneous point in time; opportunity’
+[-, -, laute//] +lauke = BHS kṣaṇa- (11a4), laute aiṣṣäṃ welñentse ‘he gives a moment for speech’ (17b3), sanaṃts laute [aiścer] ‘you give an opportunity to the enemies’ (32b6), wsāsta laute lälñeṣṣe säkwaśc ‘thou gavest the opportunity for the good fortune of emergence’ (261b3), manta laute /// = BHS ciracirasya /// (541a3). +∎Phonologically possible is VW's derivation (256) from PIE *louto- ‘that which is cut off, Abschnitt’ from *leu(h_x)-. More likely, because of the wider array of extra-Tocharian support, is Hilmarsson's (1986a:242) connection of this word and the phonologically identical but semantically distant TchA lot ‘hole’ with Icelandic laut ‘Vertiefung im Gelände’ (< *loudeh_a-) and leyti (nt.) ‘moment, period’ (< *loudiyo-). This is presumably the same equation ultimately as Naert's (1965b:544) with Faeroese lo/ta ‘short span of time, instant.’ The double-barreled semantic equation between Tocharian and Germanic here is most impressive. Also belonging here perhaps is A lyutaṃ ‘gorge’ (< *leudono-). Probably unrelated is B lyauto ‘hole, opening,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+laupe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘salve, unguent’
+[laupe, -, -//] +kwärmatse laupe ‘a salve for a tumor’ (FS-b1), kränkaññe yotsa laupe kātsa yāmusai ‘a salve with chicken broth; the belly [is] treated’ (W-39b3). +∎A derivative of lup-, q.v. As if from PIE *(s)loub^(h)o-. +

+ + +
+

+laur* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± spike’
+[-, -, laur//] +laursa eñcwaññe tarne räskre tsopyeṃne ‘they pierced violently his skull with an iron spike’ (22b5). +∎From PIE *lóu(h_x)-ro- (nt.) as the ‘thing cut off’ from *leu(h_x)- (Couvreur, 1950:130, VW:256, though details differ). +See also lu-. +

+ + +
+

+lauwalñe +See lup-. +

+ + +
+

+lmor +See ṣäm-. +

+ + +
+

+lwaksātsaika +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘potter’
+[lwaksātsaika, lwaksātsaikantse, -//] +kos tsaikaṃ lwaksātsaika=ścemaṣṣeṃ bhājanta ‘as many earthen vessels the potter makes’ (3a2), yamorṣṣe lwaksātsaikantse śaul ‘the life of a karma- potter’ (3a2/3). +∎A compound of the plural of lwāke + tsaika, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+lwāke +(n.) +‘pot, vessel’
+[lwāke, -, lwāke//lwāksa, -, -] +lwāke tatākau mäsketär su cmelane kreṃt pelaiknentse ‘he has become a vessel of good law in [this] birth’ (K-10b1), lwāksa bhājanta snai menki mäskentär cpi ‘pots and vessels are his without lack’ (K-10b2). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, VW (270), who connects it with luwo ‘animal.’ +See also lwaksātsaika. +

+ + +
+

+lwāññe, lwāṣṣe, lwāsa, and lwātstse +See luwo. +

+ + +
+

+lyak +(nm.) +‘thief’
+[lyak, -, lykaṃ//lyśi, lykaṃts, lykaṃ ~ lyakäṃ] +yärponta lykaṃtsä pos=amāskai karkats[i] ‘meritorious services [are] the most difficult to steal by thieves’ [lykaṃtsä = BHS coraiḥ] (14b8), yāmor ṣemeṃtsa sompastr ekñenta lyśi no alyenkäṃs cowai tärkanaṃ ‘karma takes the possessions of some; thieves take them away from others’ (33a4), se ṣamāne lykaṃ wārṣeṃmpa plākisa ytāri yaṃ ‘whatever monk walks the way, by agreement, with thieves or robbers’ [lyak = BHS cora-, while wārṣṣe = BHS steya-] (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b: 47]). +∎TchA lyäk and B lyak reflect PTch *lyäk which is probably from a PIE *leg^h-, a root noun from leg^h- ‘lie (down)’ (> B lyäk-, q.v.), thus ‘one who lies (in wait)’ (for the morphology, cf. Latin dux ‘leader’ from *deuk- ‘lead;’ for the semantic development, cf. Greek lókhos ‘ambush, place to lie in wait’ also from *leg^h-). Possible phonologically and semantically is VW's derivation (271) from a PIE *lek- ‘fly’ seen in Lithuanian lekiù ‘fly, run’ (*‘cause to fly’ > *‘fly off with’ > ‘steal,’ cf. French voler) but the lack of any other reflex of PIE *lek- in Tocharian argues against such a derivation. +See also leki/leke, lyäk-, lykuññe, and possibly tanaulyäk. +

+ + +
+

+lyakur* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘time, occasion’
+[-, -, lyakur//-, -, lykwarwa] +tarya lkwarwa śem Pra[saṃnake] ‘three times P. came’ (21a6), satāṣṣäṃ wat piś lykwarwa tuk ṣiś [lege: piś] ṣaṃṣtär ‘he exhales five [times], [so] he counts five times’ (41b2). +∎Etymology obscure. TchA lkwär and B lyakur suggest a PTch *lyäkwär. In PIE terms this looks like a verb root *leK- + the abstract noun forming suffix *-wṛ. VW (264-5) would connect this word with Lithuanian lekiù ‘run, fly’ but the semantics are not compelling. +

+ + +
+

+lyake* +(n.) +‘± hurdle, fence’ (?)
+[//-, -, lyakeṃ] +[se]salyu lyakeṃ yops=āttsāna wa[r]ś[aiṃne] ‘leaping the hurdles, he entered the thicketed plains’ (338a1), /// lo - - ntse lyakeṃ w ̇ - k ̇k ̇ññ ̇ | [if lyakeṃ is not a 3rd pl. of lyäk-, q.v.] (516b2). +∎Meaning doubtful, etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+lyakwaññe* +(adj.) +‘± brilliant, shining’ (?)
+[f: -, -, lyakwañña//] +kātso ... wlaśka lyakwañña ṣlyaṣ[ṣa] prakarya ‘a stomach, smooth, shining, firm, and long’ (73b2). +See also lyāk. +

+ + +
+

+lyat +‘?’
+/// pyāmtsar calle walke lyat (606a1). +

+ + +
+

+lyam +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sea’
+[lyam, -, lyam//lymanta (K-T), -, -] +[mä]kte orocce lyamne orkamotsai yaṣine meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña ‘like the light of the moon and stars in a great sea’ (154b2), lyam samudrä yaitu prenke[n n]aum[y]e[ntasa] ‘sea and ocean decorated with islands and jewels’ (242a5). +∎TchA lyäm and B lyam reflect PTch *lyäm from PIE *limṇ, the neuter equivalent to the animate *limén- seen in Greek limēn (m.) ‘harbor’ or the derived limnē (f.) ‘sea; pool of standing water, mere’ and more distantly leimōn ‘watery meadow’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:144). We have here a striking Greco-Tocharian isogloss. This etymology is wrongly rejected by VW (271-272) in favor of a connection with Lithuanian lãma ‘place in a field, marsh, ditch,’ etc. +

+ + +
+

+lyāk +(adj.) +‘± brilliant, shining’ (?)
+[f: lyāk, -, -//] +wartsa wlaś[k]a l[y]āk pratsā[k]o (73a6), [] lyāk sauke tanki /// (74a4). +∎No doubt related to lyakwaññe as -yok is to -yokaññe, qq.v. If the meaning is correct, it must represent a TchB borrowing from A lyāk (253b2) from PTch *li̯ēkā and formally the equivalent of -lyāka. +

+ + +
+

+-lyāka +(adj.) +‘seeing, looking at’ only in the compound: läkle-lyāka* ‘able to see suffering or pain’:
+entwek läkle-lyakāñ [mäskenträ] ‘then they are looking at suffering’ (K-5a6). +∎From PTch *li̯ēkā-, a derivative of läk-, q.v. +See also lyāk. +

+ + +
+

+lyäk- +(vi.) +‘lie, lie down’
+Ps. II /lyäk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, lyaśäṃ//-, -, lyakeṃ(?); MPPart. lykemane]; Ko. II (= Ps.) [A lyakau, -, -//; AOpt. -, -, lyaśi] +ñumeṃ śak kauṃ lyaśäṃ /// ‘from nine to ten days he lies [still]’ (9a5), /// lo - - ntse lyakeṃ w ̇ - k ̇k ̇ññ ̇ | [if lyakeṃ is not an acc. pl. of lyake, q.v.] (516b2); [tä]ttāw pältsi taurne wat lykemāne [] srukoṣämp=eṣe (118a2); /// lāntämpa seṃ lyakau cintāmaṇi ṣarkästär [for the identification, see Winter, 1983:324]) (345a4), lyaśi lamoy atyaisa śuwoy pintwāt ‘he should lie down [i.e. assume a non-standing posture], sit on the grass and eat alms’ (K-1b6 [Couvreur, 1954c]). + -- lyśalñe* only in the derived adjective: lyśalyñeṣṣe ‘prtng to lying’: lek yamaṣṣa lyśalyñeṣṣe ‘he assumed the lying posture’ (108b5). +∎From PIE *leg^h- ‘lie (down)’ [: Greek (Hesychian) lékhetai ‘he sleeps,’ Gothic ligan ‘lie,’ OCS ležǫ ‘lie,’ etc. (P:658-659; MA:352)] (VW:271). +See also lyak and leke/leki. +

+ + +
+

+lyikaśke +See lykaśke. +

+ + +
+

+lyitkw* +(n.) +‘± tube’
+[//lyitkwanma, -, ] +auloñ cpī sätk[e]ntär-ne lyitkwänmā srukemāne ‘dying, his vessels and tubes spread out (or swell?)’ [?] (139a3). +∎Possibly a verbal noun from litk-, q.v., as ‘that which something passes through’ (VW:273). Hilmarsson (1991b:172) adds the semantic parallel of German Leitung ‘conduit, tube’ as a derivative of leiten ‘lead, conduct.’ +

+ + +
+

+lyipär +See lipär. +

+ + +
+

+lyiyo* +(n.) +‘member’
+[//-, lyyāsaṃts, lyyāsa] +śak-wi lyyāsasa = BHS dvādaśānga- (PK-NS-53-a4). +∎TchA (plural) lyyā and B lyiyo reflect a PTch *liyā-, possibly from PIE *wlidyeh_a- [: Gothic wlits ‘aspect, form, body,’ Old Norse litr ‘color, aspect, form, body, beauty’ (< *wlidi-] (VW:273). If so, we have an substantivized adjective, ‘that which pertains to the body.’ +

+ + +
+

+lyu- +(vt.) +‘rub’
+Pt. I /lyāwā-/ [A -, -, lyāwa//] +[ā]lyinesa antapi pudñäktentse kektseño klawāte-ne lyawā-ne ‘with both palms [of his hands] he stroked the Buddha's body and rubbed him’ (5b5). + -- lyelyuwormeṃ: akruna pest lyelyuwormeṃ ‘having wiped away [his] tears’ (514a8). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, VW (275) who connects this word with li-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+lyūke* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘light, splendor’
+[-, -, lyuke//] +//ṣṣa śetko lyūke-wmer [r]a ‘... like a light-jewel’ (242b3), /// [la]laṃṣka lyuke-wmerṣṣe mahū[r] ‘tender ... and a light-jewel crown’ (617a6). +∎From PIE *leuko- [: Sanskrit roká- ‘light,’ Armenian lois ‘id.,’ Welsh llug ‘id.’] or *leukos- [: Sanskrit rócas-, Avestan raocah- ‘light’ (P:687 for both lemmata; MA:352, 505)]. VW (274) picks the former alternative because in his view lyūke is a masculine. However as only the singular is attested, it is impossible to tell whether the Tocharian noun is masculine or neuter and so both possibilities remain. +See also luk- and lyoko. +

+ + +
+

+lyukemo +(adj.) +‘shining, brilliant’
+[m: lyukemo, -, -//] +/// lyu[ke]mo yaipu ramt menne urṇaṣṣe tañ la[k]ṣāṃ ‘brilliant as if thy ūrṇa-mark [is] entered in the moon’ (71a6), [s]w[a]ñcaiṃ ko[yne ta]ñ ścirye ram no lyukemo ‘thy rays in thy mouth like a shining star’ (74a1). +∎A regular adjectival derivative from the subjunctive stem of luk-, q.v. (cf. weñmo, waskāmo, aiśamo, ynamo, pälkamo, etc.). +

+ + +
+

+lyekṣye +(n.) +‘millet’
+[lyekṣye, -, -//] +(Isebaert, 1981[83]). +∎Just possibly from something like *h_2/3l(e)ǵ^(h)- and related to Hittite halki- ‘barley; grain,’ Lycian Qelehi- ‘of the grain-god,’ New Persian arzan ‘millet’ (MA:237). Semantically equivalent to yap. +

+ + +
+

+lyoko* +(n.) +‘light’ (?)
+[-, -, lyokai//] +tumeṃ snai lyokai māśäkänta śak /// ‘then, without light (?), beans for ten ...’ (W-12b2). +∎If correctly identified semantically, we would have a PIE *leukeh_a-h₁en-. Compare lyūke, from *leuko- or *leukos-. +

+ + +
+

+lyauto +(nf.) +‘hole, opening’
+[lyauto, -, lyautai//] +ṣalenne mā no mäskīträ omp lyauto tsrorye wa[t] ‘there was there in the mountains neither hole nor cleft’ (404a5), eśnesa menkitse tākoy kacāp ompä pärkre śāyeñca pyorye ṣäp tākoy cew warne somo-lyautai länktsa mā kly[e]ñca ‘there was a long-lived tortoise there, lacking eyes, and there was a yoke in the water, light and [having but] a single opening’ (407a6/7). +∎As if from PIE *lēuteh_a- (for the vṛddhi, cf. ṣārtto) and related to the otherwise isolated Hittite luttāi ‘window,’ itself from *le/outoi-. +

+ + +
+

+lykaśke +(adj.) +(a) ‘small’; (b) ‘fine’ [adv. = ‘finely’]
+[m: lykaśke, -, lykaśkeṃ//] [f: //lykaśkana, -, -] +(a) käskaññītär-ne waiptār āśce po lykaśke ‘his head was scattered far and wide in little pieces’ (22b5), [kos] lykaśke aknātsaññe tsankan-me tot lykaśkana lwāsane cmelñe mäsketär-me ‘however little, ignorance arises to them, so their birth is among little animals’ (575b4/5), lykaśkana śikṣapātänta ‘the lesser precepts’ [lykaśkana = BHS kṣudrakānuk ṣudraka-] (PK-AS-18B-b1 [Pinault, 1984b]); +
+(b) onkolm=eñcwañña waltsanoy-n=āsta lykaśke ‘an iron she-elephant ground his bones fine’ (22b4), aśāwe lykiśke rūp ‘a form rough and fine’ (192b3), läksañana misa lykaśke kekarśwa ‘fish meat finely chopped’ (P-1a1). +∎TchA lykäly ‘id.’ and B lykaśke show the same PTch *lyäk- extended by different diminutive suffixes (-ly from PIE *-li- or *-lyo; -śke from *-ḱiko-). VW (1941:59, 1976:273) connects *lyäk- with PIE *leg^wh- ‘light’ but the absence of a -w- in Tocharian (e.g. *lykwaśke) is hard to explain. Better, with Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:160), to connect this word with Greek olígos ‘few, small,’ Albanian lig ‘bad, evil; thin,’ Lithuanian ligà ‘illness,’ Latvian liga ‘severe illness, pestilence.’ Cf. also Old Irish līach ‘suffering, unfortunate,’ Lithuanian nu-líegti ‘fall ill,’ and Greek loigós (with loss of *h₃- as sometimes before *-o-) ‘ruin, harm, death’ (cf. P:667; MA:516). +

+ + +
+

+lykuññe*¹ +(adj.) +‘prtng to a thief’
+[m: -, -, lykuññe//] +lykuññe ṣaṃṣäl = BHS steyasaṃkhyātam (H-149-ADD.8a3f.), lykuññe palskosa ykemeṃ rautkaṃ postaññe prāri ‘[if] he moves [it] away from [its] place with thought of thieving, [even] a finger['s length]’ (H-149-ADD.8a7/8 [Thomas, 1954:761]). +∎A derivative of lyak, q.v. Compare lantuññe from walo or sanuññe from sāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+lykuññe² +(n.) +‘theft’
+[lykuññe, -, -//] +mā lykuññe [pra]le ‘theft [is] not to be borne’ (404b6). +∎A nominalization of lykuññe*¹. +

+ + +
+

+lyñā-* +(n.) +‘(turtle's) shell’
+[-, -, lyñā-//] +kaccāp ram no ṣañ lyñā/// ‘as a turtle [in] his own shell’ (243b4). +∎Full form and etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+lypakwa +(n.[pl.]) +‘?’
+ṣaraiṃ lypakwa sronkiṃ (522a6). +

+ + +
+

+lymine +(n.dual) +‘lips’
+[/lymine, -, -/] +lymin ̇ ̇/// = BHS oṣṭha- (543b7), aswa lymine yokaisa ‘lips parched with thirst’ (H-149.14b1 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:4]). +∎TchA lymeṃ ‘lips’ and B lymine reflect PTch *lyämäi- from PIE *lemb- [: Sanskrit lambate ‘hang, be suspended,’ English limp] (cf. Lane, 1945:24, VW:273-4). +

+ + +
+

+lyyā- +See li-. +

+ + +
+

+vaṃśavāttär* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 17 syllables (rhythm 5/7/5)
+[-, -, vaṃśavāttär//] +(517a6). +

+ + +
+

+vakal- +‘?’
+vakal ̇/// (405a3). +

+ + +
+

+vaca +(n.) +‘Acorus calamus Linn.’ (A medical ingredient)
+[vaca, -, -//] +(W-33a3). +‣Synonymous with the native okaro. +∎From BHS vacā-. +

+ + +
+

+Vajrapāṇi* +(n.) +‘Vajrapāṇi’ (PN of a bodhisatva)
+[-, -, vajrapāṇi//] +(406a5). +

+ + +
+

+vajropame +(n.) +‘a particular kind of trance’
+(591a4). + -- vajropämo-samādhiṣṣe ‘prtng to the vajropama-trance’: (214a5). +∎From BHS vajropama-. +

+ + +
+

+vajrāsaṃ +See wajrasaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+vanapraveś* +(n.) +the name of a meter
+[-, -, vanapraveś//] +(602-3b1, 615a1). +

+ + +
+

+vapa(-) +‘?’
+In a list of medical ingredients (W-18b3). +

+ + +
+

+vayastä +(n.) +the name of some medicinal plant
+[vayastä, -, -//] +(P-2b4). +∎From BHS vayaḥsthā-. +

+ + +
+

+varangatvacä +(n.) +‘bark of the Cassia plant’ [Filliozat] (a medical ingredient)
+[varangatvacä, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS varāngatvaca-. +

+ + +
+

+Varddhane +(n.) +‘Varddhana’ (PN)
+[Varddhane, -, Varddhaneṃ//] +(375a2). +

+ + +
+

+vaśirṣe +See waśir. +

+ + +
+

+vasaṃpaṃ +See wasaṃpaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+vatsak +(n.) +‘(seed of) Holarrhena antidysenterica Wall’ (aka Wrightia antidysenterica J. Grah.) (a medical ingredient)
+[vatsak, -, -//] +(P-1b5). +∎From BHS vatsaka-. +See vatsakabīja. +

+ + +
+

+vatsakabīja +(n.) +‘Holarrhena antidysenterica Wall’ (aka Wrightia antidysenterica J. Grah.) (a medical ingredient)
+[vatsakabīja, -, -//] +(497a7, P-1b2). +∎From BHS vatsakabīja-. +See vatsak. +

+ + +
+

+Vācavārg* +(n.) +‘Vācavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Vācavārg//] +(S-3a6). +

+ + +
+

+vājr +See wājrä. +

+ + +
+

+vādasthānäṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to an object of discussion’ (?)
+(425b3). +∎An adjective derived from a noun from BHS *vādasthāna- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+vādai +(?)
+[Nālaṃ]dagrām kwaṣai vādai bhok kälpau /// (110a6). +

+ + +
+

+-vārg +(n.) +‘chapter, section (of a work)’
+(59b4). +∎From BHS varga-. +See mārgavārg, śramaṇavārg, etc. +

+ + +
+

+Vāsiṣṭhe* +(n.) +‘Vāsiṣṭha’ (PN)
+[-, Vāsiṣṭhentse ~ Vāsiṣṭhi, -//] +(350b3). +

+ + +
+

+vāstu +(n.) +‘place, object’
+[vāstu, -, -//] +(149b5). + -- vastuṣṣe ‘prtng to place or object’ (174a5). +∎From BHS vāstu- and/or vastu-. +

+ + +
+

+viciträ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘variegated’
+viciträ-pyāpyai maṇḍālne taṣale ‘it [is] to be placed in a maṇḍala of variegated flowers’ (M-3a5). +∎From BHS vicitra-. +See also vicitrapuṣp-werpiśke*. +

+ + +
+

+vicitrapuṣp-werpiśke* +(n.) +‘garden of variegated flowers’
+[-, -, vicitrapuṣp-werpiśke//] +(589a2). +∎From BHS *vicitrapuṣpa- (not in M-W or Edgerton) + werpiśke, q.v. +See viciträ. +

+ + +
+

+viciprawāt +‘?’
+waiptesa wat śauśtär-ne alyenkäṃ kwri mā cimpem viciprawāt śaukemar (331a4). +

+ + +
+

+vijñāṃ +(n.) +‘practical or applied knowledge’
+[vijñāṃ, vijñānäntse, vijñāṃ//-, -, vijñā(nä)nta] +vijñāṃ wriyeṣṣe pälta[k ra] ‘practical knowledge is like a water droplet’ (152b1). +∎From BHS vijñāna-. +

+ + +
+

+vijñānabhavānk* +(n.) +‘± element of practical knowledge’
+[-, vijñānabhavākäntse, vijñānanabhavānk//] +(153b2, 153b5). +∎From BHS *vijñānabhavānga- (not in M-W or Edgerton]. +See also \X0vijñāṃ\x. +

+ + +
+

+viḍangä +(n.) +‘(fruit of) Embelia ribes Burm. f.’ (A medical ingredient)
+[viḍangä, -, -//] +(497b8). +∎From BHS viḍanga-. +

+ + +
+

+vitarāg +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘free of suffering’
+(197a4). +∎From BHS vītarāga-. +

+ + +
+

+Vitaśake* +(n.) +‘Vitaśaka’ (PN)
+[Vitaśake, -, -//] +(363a2). +

+ + +
+

+Vidūṣake +(n.) +‘Vidūṣaka’ (PN)
+[Vidūṣake, -, -//] +(78a3). +

+ + +
+

+vidyādhare +(n.) +‘a kind of supernatural being’
+[vidyādhare, -, -//] +vidyādhare entesa paiyne etswai pinkalle ‘a vidyādhara [is] to be painted right up against [their] feet’ (M-3a4). +∎From BHS vidyādhara-. +

+ + +
+

+vidyāsaṃsparś +(n.) +‘± perception of (magical) knowledge’
+[vidyāsaṃsparś, -, -//] +(171a2). +∎From BHS *vidyāsaṃsparśa- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+vidyāsthāntaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to subjects of knowledge’
+[m: -, -, - vidyāsthāntaṣṣ, -, -//] +(429a2). +∎An adjectival derivative from the plural of *vidyāsthāṃ ‘subject of knowledge’ from BHS vidyāsthāna-. +

+ + +
+

+vinäntsä(-) +‘?’
+///mt vinäntsä/// (571b5). +

+ + +
+

+vinai +See winai. +

+ + +
+

+Vinaiśe +(n.) +‘Vinaiśe’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Vinaiśe, Vinaiśentse, -//] +(433a11). +

+ + +
+

+viparyāsäṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to error/delusion’
+[m: -, -, viparyāsäṣṣe//] +(S-6b2). +∎An adjective derived from *viparyās from BHS viparyāsa-. +

+ + +
+

+vipāk +(n.) +‘maturation, coming to fruition (of action)’
+[vipāk, -, -//] +(174b7). + -- vipākätstse ‘having maturation, etc.’ (174b5). +∎From BHS vipāka-. +

+ + +
+

+vipākak +(n.) +‘that established by the coming to fruition of deeds’
+[vipākak, -, -//] +(41a4). +∎From BHS vipākaja-. +See vipākajä*. +

+ + +
+

+vipākajä* +(n.) +‘id.’
+[-, -, vipākajä//] +(200a1). +∎From BHS vipākaja-. +

+ + +
+

+vibhakti* +(n.) +‘division’
+[//vibhaktinta, -, -] +(551a3). +∎From BHS vibhakti-. +

+ + +
+

+vibhankäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to a commentary’
+[f: //vibhankäṣṣana, -, -] +(325b3). +∎An adjective derived from a noun *vibhank ‘commentary’ from BHS vibhanga-. +

+ + +
+

+vibhāṣ* +(n.) +‘detailed explanation/commentary’
+[-, -, vibhāṣ//] +(374a1). + -- vibhāṣṣe ‘prtng to a detailed explanation or commentary’ (361a8). +∎From BHS vibhāṣā-. +

+ + +
+

+Vibhuṣṇaprabhe +(n.) +‘Vibhuṣṇaprabha’ (PN)
+[Vibhuṣṇaprabhe, -, Vibhuṣṇaprabheṃ//] +(99a3). +

+ + +
+

+Vimalapuṣpe +(n.) +‘Vimalapuṣpa’ (PN)
+(383a3). +

+ + +
+

+vimāṃ +See wimāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+vimukti +See wimukti. +

+ + +
+

+vimuktimārg* +(n.) +‘the way toward release (from existence)’
+[-, -, vimuktimārg//] +(185a4). +∎From BHS vimuktimārga- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+vimokṣ +See wimokṣ. +

+ + +
+

+Vīrabhadre* +(n.) +‘Vīrabhadra’ (PN of a gandharva)
+[-, -, Vīrabhadre//] +(294a11). +

+ + +
+

+virank +(n.) +‘medicinal earth’ (A medical ingredient)
+[virank, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS *viranga- (Filliozat); not in M-W or Edgerton. +

+ + +
+

+vilom +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘against the grain, contrary’
+(179b5). +∎From BHS viloma-. +

+ + +
+

+vilumpagatiṃ* +(n.) +a meter, perhaps of 4 X 18 syllables (rhythm 7/7/4)
+[-, -, vilumpagatiṃ//] +(585a3). +

+ + +
+

+Viśale* +(n.) +‘Viśala’ (PN of a man?)
+[-, Viśali, -//] +(133b3). +

+ + +
+

+viśīr +(n.) +‘sea-salt’ [Filliozat] or ‘Achyrantes aspera Linn.’ or ‘Scindapsus officinalis Schott.’ [Filliozat and M-W] (A medical ingredient)
+[viśīr, -, -//] +(W-6a6). +∎From BHS vaśīra- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+viśuddhi* +(n.) +‘complete purification, purity, holiness’
+[-, -, viśuddhi//] +(583a1). +∎From BHS viśuddhi-. +

+ + +
+

+Viśvakarme* +(n.) +‘Viśvakarman’ (PN of a god)
+[-, Viśvakarmi, -//] +(48a7). +

+ + +
+

+viṣe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘servant, attendant’ (?)
+[viṣe, -, -//] +[mā su e]kantse viṣe ste mā eksa wärñai rūp[i i]ndrintaṃts aspharaṇīyaṃ (178b2), /// päls[k]ontse [vi]ṣ[e] ste (178b5). +∎From BHS viṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+viṣai +See wiṣai. +

+ + +
+

+Viṣṇu +(n.) +‘Viṣṇu’ (PN of (a class of) gods)
+[Viṣṇu, -, Viṣṇuṃ//-, viṣṇuntaṃts, -] +(74b5, 88a5, 267a1, 388b8). +See Wikṣṇu. +

+ + +
+

+vitsakabijä +See vatsakabijä. +

+ + +
+

+Vṛkṣavāsike +(n.) +‘Vṛkṣavāsika’ (PN of a god)
+[Vṛkṣavāsike, -, -//] +(88a4). +

+ + +
+

+vṛtti* +(n.) +‘± mode of moral behavior’
+[//-, -, vṛttinma] +(549b2). +∎From BHS vṛtti-. +

+ + +
+

+vṛddhi* +(n.) +‘growth’
+[-, -, vṛdhhi//] +(34a1). +∎From BHS vṛddhi-. +

+ + +
+

+vṛjiṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to Vṛji or Vaji [the name of a country]’
+[m: //vṛjiṣṣi, -, -] +vṛjiṣṣi tsaṣkaṃ = BHS vṛjimahallakā ‘the elders of Vaji’ (542a5). +∎An adjectival derivation of a noun *Vṛji, itself a borrowing from BHS Vṛji-. +

+ + +
+

+vṛṣe* +(n.) +‘steer’
+[-, -, vṛṣe//] +(511b4[ftn]). +∎From BHS vṛṣan-. +

+ + +
+

+veteni +See wetene. +

+ + +
+

+ved* +(n.) +‘veda’
+[//-, -, vedamna] +mant cai ksa vedanma śānmyare or[ot]stse-cämpamñecci ñakti anumod[i]t yamaṣṣare-me ‘thus certain they knew thoroughly the vedas and the great-powered gods gave them approbation’ (PK-AS-16.3a5 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎From BHS veda-. +

+ + +
+

+vedaṃ* +(n.) +‘feeling, sensation’
+[-, veda(nä)ntse, -//veda(nä)nta, veda(nä)ntaṃts, -] +(149b4). +∎From BHS vedanā-. Partially overlapping semantically with the inherited warpalñe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+vedanākāy(i)* +(n.) +‘sensation-body’
+[//vedanākāyinta, -, -] +(170b5). +∎From BHS *vedanākāya- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Vemacitre¹ +See Wemacitre. +

+ + +
+

+vemacitre*² +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 18 syllables (rhythm 7/7/4)
+[-, -, vemacitreṃ//] +(375b3). +

+ + +
+

+Vaijayanto* +(n.) +‘Vaijayanta’ (PN of Indra's palace)
+[-, -, Vaijayanto//] +(76a2). +

+ + +
+

+Vaitike +(n.) +‘Vaitika’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Vaitike, -, -//] +(460a3). +

+ + +
+

+Vaideh* +(n.) +‘Videha’ (PN of a mountain)
+[-, -, Vaideh//] +(294a9). +

+ + +
+

+vaineye* +(n.) +‘those who are to be (religiously) trained, converted’
+[//vaineyi, vaineyeṃts, -] +(214a1). +∎From BHS vaineya-. +

+ + +
+

+vaibhāṣike* +(n.) +‘member of the vaibhāṣika-sect of Buddhism’
+[//-, vaibhāṣikaṃts, -] +(199a5). +∎From BHS vaibhāṣika-. +

+ + +
+

+Vaimānuke* +(n.) +‘Vaimānuka’ (PN of a god)
+[-, -, Vaimānukeṃ//] +(617b2). +

+ + +
+

+vairāk +(n.) +‘absence of worldy desires’ (?)
+[vairāk, -, -//] +(185b1, 198b4). +∎If from BHS vairāga-. +

+ + +
+

+vairāgya +(n.) +‘absence of worldly desires’
+(177b7). +∎From BHS vairāgya-. +

+ + +
+

+vairudyi-yokäṃ +(adj.) +‘like one of the world-guardians’ (?)
+(571a2). +∎If from BHS vairūḍhya- (not in M-W or Edgerton), an adjectival derivative of virūḍha- ‘world-guardian’ + -yok. +

+ + +
+

+vairuriṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to a world-guardian’ (?)
+[f: //vairuriṣṣana, -, -] +(565b1). +∎With vairuri- from *vairuḍhi-. +See vairudyi-yokäṃ. +

+ + +
+

+vaiśaṣike* +(n.) +‘attribute, distinction’
+[-, vaiśaṣikentse, -/vaiśaṣikene, -, -/] +(191a5, 202a1). +∎From BHS *vaiśeṣika-, a derivative (not in M-W or Edgerton) of viśeṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+Vaiśāli* +(n.) +‘Vaiśāli’ (PN of a city)
+[-, -, Vaiśāli//] +(20a4). +

+ + +
+

+vaiśye* +(n.) +‘vaiśya’ [the third of the major caste divisions of the Hindus]
+[//vaiśyi, -, -] +kṣatri [[] b]r[ā]hmaṇi [] vaiśyi ‘kshatriyas, brahmans, and vaiśyas’ (PK-AS-16.3b3 [Pinault, 1989:157]). +∎From BHS vaiśya-. +

+ + +
+

+vaiśra(-) +‘?’
+vaiśra/// (571b7). +

+ + +
+

+vaiśramañña +(n.) +Ficus indicus (A medical ingredient)
+[vaiśramañña, -, -//] +(W-38a4). +∎Related in some fashion to BHS vaiśra-vaṇālaya- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+Vaiśravaṇe +(n.) +‘Vaiśravaṇa’ (PN of a king)
+[Vaiśravaṇe, -, -//] +(PK-12G-a1 [Thomas, 1979:9]). +

+ + +
+

+vaisarp +(n.) +‘erysipelas’
+[vaisarp, -, -//] +(ST-b4). +∎From BHS visarpa-. +

+ + +
+

+vyakṣep +See wyakṣep. +

+ + +
+

+vyañjaṃ* +(n.) +‘expression’
+[-, -, vyanjaṃ//] +pudñäkte ce weña śloko Ānandeṃśco kreṃnt ārth vyañjantsa ‘the Buddha spoke this śloka to Ānanda with good sense and expression’ (23b7). +∎From BHS vyañjanā-. +

+ + +
+

+vyākaraṃ* +(n.) +‘grammar’
+[-, -, vyākaraṃ//] +hor vyākaram saṃvatsarajñāṃtsa wa[rñ]ai śas[ta]rma śānmyare ‘they knew thoroughly the treatises concerning the science of the year, grammar, the horoscope, etc.’ (PK-AS-16.3a4 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎From BHS vyākaraṇa-. +See also vyākarit*. +

+ + +
+

+vyākarit* +(n.) +‘prophecy’ [vyākarit kälp- ‘prophesy’]
+[-, -, vyākarit//] +[yāmṣa]-ne poyśi vyākārito ce_u ‘the Buddha made him this prophecy’ (22b2). + -- vyākaritäṣṣe ‘prtng to prophecy, prophetic’ (112a1). +∎Related to BHS vyākaraṇa-. +See also vyākaraṃ*. +

+ + +
+

+vyākhyāṃ* +(n.) +‘explanation, exposition’ [vyākhyāṃ yām- ‘explain’]
+[-, -, vyākhyāṃ//] +(175a2). +∎From BHS vyākhyāna-. +See also vyākhyānapadak. +

+ + +
+

+vyākhyānapadak +(n.) +‘word of explanation’
+(197b1). +∎From BHS vyākhyānapadaka-. +See also vyākhyāṃ*. +

+ + +
+

+vyeñune +‘?’
+ kṣuntsa tricce kocce [?] teṃ śka vyeñune wai tsyakune /// [the whole passage is most obscure] (G-Qm12.1). +

+ + +
+

+vyutkrāntik +(n.) +‘a kind of samāpatti’
+(591b1). +∎From BHS vyutkrāntaka-. +

+ + +
+

+vräka +(n.) +a kind of plant (M-W and Filliozat) or ‘the resin of Pinus longifolia Roxb’ (= ‘P. roxburghii Sargent’) (Filliozat) (A medical ingredient)
+[vräka, -, -//] +(W-33a7). +∎From BHS vṛkā-. +

+ + +
+

+wa¹ +(conj.) +‘therefore, nevertheless’ [unstressed]
+cai wa ñakti toṣitṣṣi k_use tañ ṣeyeṃ ṣañ śamna ‘these therefore [are] Tuṣita-gods who were thy own people’ (231a1), ñäś ykāk wa śāyau ‘still I live nevertheless’ (246b4), lantsi wa auṃntsante ‘nevertheless they began to emerge’ (G-Qa1.2). +∎From PIE *wē [: Sanskrit vā ‘or,’ Avestan vā ‘id.,’ Latin -ve ‘id.,’ etc. (P:75)] (Couvreur, 1950:130) with regular change of PIE absolutely final *-ē to Tocharian -ā (which appears unstressed as -a). Compare the development of mā ‘not’ from *mē. VW (540) gives the same ultimate etymology but unnecessarily takes wa to be a borrowing from an unattested Tocharian A form. Since the underlying form is clearly /wā/ with a long vowel, Normier's suggestion (1980:261) of an equation with Greek aû ‘again, anew; on the other hand’ is phonologically impossible. +See also wat and wai. +

+ + +
+

+wa² (in the locative wane) +See gu. +

+ + +
+

+wakītse +See wāki. +

+ + +
+

+wakṣālle +See wāk-. +

+ + +
+

+wajrasaṃ* +(n.) +‘diamond seat’
+[-, -, wajrasaṃ//] +wajrasansā lo lmoṣ ci rṣarkets [lege: rṣakets] lant ñaś winaskau ‘I honor thee, king of the seers, seated afar on [thy] diamond seat’ (241a2). +∎From BHS vajrāsana-. +

+ + +
+

+wañenta +‘?’
+/// [pre]kṣiyeṃ tesa po wañenta aiśaumyi /// (110b3), /// kauś śānmyate • se wañenta ñiś /// (110b4). +

+ + +
+

+wat¹ +(conjunction) +‘or; rather than’
+mai ñi tākaṃ laitalñe wrocc=asānmeṃ laṃntuññe | epe wat no śaulantse ñyātse ñi ste nesalle ‘will I fall from [my] great royal throne or is there to be a danger to my life?’ (5a4), yare krāke wat kärweñi ‘gravel, dirt, or stones’ (7a7), lakaṃ klyauṣäṃ wat ‘he will see or hear’ (33b4/5), ṣamānenne wat aśiyainne wat ‘among monks or nuns’ (522a2), walo cew enkormeṃ pyāśi-ne śanmäṣṣi-ne wat ypoymeṃ wat lyucī-ne [wat = BHS vā] (H-149-ADD.8a4f. [Thomas, 1974:102]), mā cpī taurä mā tweye kektseñäśc ma wat tswetär nta ‘never does dust nor dirt pile up on his body’ (K-10a3). +∎Etymology unclear. That there must be a relationship with TchA pat ‘id.’ seems clear but it is unlikely that we have a borrowing from A to B (so VW:540). It seems probable that we should take B back to PIE *wē + tu (vel sim.) (cf. P:75; MA:410) but such a preform explains neither the vowel nor the initial p- of the Tocharian A equivalent. +See also wa and wai. +

+ + +
+

+wat*² +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, wat//] +tu yāmormeṃ weyaṃ ṣukt kontsa te tättārmeṃ watstsa särwāna sonopälle ‘having done this and having placed it weyaṃ [for] seven days, one [is] to rub the face with the wat’ (W-40b1). +

+ + +
+

+watām* +(n.) +‘almond’ (a medical ingredient)
+[//watāmänta, -, -] +(W-9a6, W-31a5). +∎From BHS vādāma- or vadāma-. +

+ + +
+

+wate +(adj.) +(a) ‘second; other’ [when one of two]; (b) [watesa and wtentse = ‘again, for a second time’]
+[m.: wate, wcepi, wace (~ waceṃ)//] [nt.: wate, wtentse, wate//] +wate lyama keṃ[tsa] ‘a second sat on the ground’ (4b6), māka kakraupau watesa ‘having gathered much for a second time’ (44a8), [ṣeme] ṣarsa ceṃ pre[re sä]lkoy-ne wace ṣarsa [saṃ]tkenta laupoy-ne ‘with one hand he pulls the arrow out of him; with the other hand he smears medicines [on] him’ (154b1), wace = BHS dvitīya (198a2), /// pikulne wace meṃñe [sic] ikäṃ-piśne ‘on the fifth of the second month, in the ... year’ (Dd-4); +
+(b) omteṃ wteṃtstse enkwe ta[kāwa] ‘then was I again a man’ (400b2), ptanma w[t]entse eränträ ‘the shrines will appear again’ (522b8), wtetstse [= wteṃtse] lmāte ‘it has newly re-established itself’ (DAM.507-a4 [Pinault, 1984b:24]). + -- wteṣṣe ‘± second, step-’ (?): cwi soy wteṣṣe ‘his second son/his stepson’ (327a5), /// soy wte[ṣṣ]e t[eṃ] yiknesa ṣuk täṅktsi /// (327b1). +∎TchA wät and B wate reflect PTch *wäte, (as if) from PIE *dwito- [: Sanskrit dvitiya- ‘second’ and dvitā ‘doubly’ (P:229; MA:399), and Khotanese śäta-, Parthian byd, Zorastrian Pahlevi did, and probably Pashto bəl (Emmerick, 1991:320)] (Normier, 1980:258, Winter, 1991:133). Not with VW (566) from an unparalleled *dweto-. +See also wato, wasto, and ālyauce. +

+ + +
+

+wato +(adv.) +‘again’ (?)
+pelaikneṣṣai tañ kektseñ wato wināskau-c ‘I honor again thy law-body’ (244a2), sā_u tweresa wäto kälyi[tär] ‘she stood by the door again’ (570b1). +∎The frozen feminine accusative singular of wate, q.v., used adverbially. (As if) from PIE *dwiteh_am [: Sanskrit dvitā ‘doubly, two-fold’]. +

+ + +
+

+wapātstsa +(n.) +‘weaver’
+[wapātstsa, wapātstsantse, wapātstsai//] +Varddhaneṃ wapāttsa[ntse] /// ‘of the weaver V.’ (375a4). +∎An agent noun in -tstsā- built on the subjunctive stem of wāp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+wamer* +(nm.) +‘jewel’
+[-, -, wamer//-, -, wmera] +ysāṣṣeṃ ñikañceṃ wmera ‘gold and silver jewels’ (109a4), wrākaññeṃ wmera makci priyeṃ ‘they themselves were wearing pearl jewels’ (PK-NS-18A-a2 [Thomas, 1978a:239]), čynt’m’nyy v’myr’h [= cintāmani wamer ra] (Manichean Text 2a5 [Gabain/Winter, 1959:11]). + -- wmerṣṣe ‘(be)jeweled’: wmerṣṣi serki ‘jeweled circles’ (585a4). +∎Clearly connected with TchA wmār ‘id.’ but further connections are obscure. It may be a derivative of wäm- ‘disappear into, be covered,’ q.v. and/or related in some way to A wamp- ‘decorate.’ Anreiter (1987b:100) suggests that underlying A wmār and B wamer is a PTch *wämpmer ~ *wämpmār. He further connects Gaulish vimpi ‘jewel’ and Welsh gwymp ‘pretty; jewel’ though the Celtic forms must reflect a putative PIE *wVnk^w-. For other suggestions, see VW (579-80; from PIE *dewe-) or Normier (1980:262; from PIE *h_aew- ‘(auf)leuchten’). +

+ + +
+

+Wamśok +(n.) +‘Wamśok’ (PN in graffito)
+[Wamśok, -, -//] +(G-Qm5). +

+ + +
+

+wayauca +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± leader’
+[wayauca, -, -//] +kla[i]ñtsa waipte allek wayauca mā nesaṃ-ne sā_u wa[yauca yaṃ] (330a3). +∎A derivative of wāy-, the non-present stem of āk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+war +(nnt.) +‘water’
+[war, wrantse, war//wranta, -, wranta] +nāgi lakaṃ tsatkuṃ enkalwa ... wranta osonträ ‘[if] the nāgas see perverse passions ... the waters dry up’ (3a1), kroścaṃ [sic] warś ce_u yolmene yänmaskeṃ ‘they enter the cool water of the pond’ (29a6), [ā]ntsesa watsālai premane war āṣtsiś yakne yamaṣäṃ ‘he makes [in this] fashion to fetch water, carrying a pot on [his] shoulder’ (91a1), keṣcye r[ur]u wär ñäṣträ ‘the hungry antelope seeks the water’ (139b4), krośce war snai märkacce = BHS śītatoyam anāvilam (H-149. 112b2 [Thomas, 1987:169]), snai luwa war = BHS aprāṇaka- (H-149-ADD.7a1 [Thomas, 1987:169]), snai war = BHS nirjalam (U-9a3), war uppāläṣṣe = BHS vāri puṣkara pattra- (U-26b4), lwasāce war = BHS saprāṇakenodakena (unpubl. Berlin fragm.-a1 [Thomas, 1987:169]), sweseṣṣe war ‘rain water’ (W-35b3). + -- -wär ‘-stream’: kaucū-wär olyi āśäṃ ñoru-wär wat ‘he guides the boat upstream or downstream’ (PK-AS-18B-b5 [Pinault, 1984b:377]); +
+wraṣṣe* ‘prtng to water’: [wra]ṣṣe kraupe = BHS udakavargaḥ (Thomas, 1976b:106); +
+war-katsa ‘dropsy’: war-katsa = BHS ādhmāna- (ST-b4 [in a list of diseases]). +∎TchA wär and B war reflect PTch *wär, probably the regular reflex of a PIE *udrom, itself a regular (endocentric) thematicization of *wodr-/udn- (P:78-80; MA:636). One might compare Albanian ujë ‘water’ from *udryeh_a or the *udrom itself which may be tied up in the history of Celtic *dubro- ‘water’ [: Old Irish dobur, Welsh dw(f)r] (see Hamp, 1972). Somewhat similarly Winter (1962a:30) starts from an *udr- "possibly extracted from derived forms such as the adjective B wriye," and Normier (1980:262) posits a PIE *udrṇ, which might be taken as a conflation of the r- and n-stem forms, as the starting point for the Tocharian development. Considerably less likely is the possibility that PTch wär is from PIE *(h₂)wer- [: Sanskrit vār/vāri (nt.) ‘water,’ Avestan vār (nt.) ‘rain,’ Sanskrit vāri- (f.) ‘water,’ Avestan vairi- (m.) ‘sea,’ Old Icelandic vari ‘liquid, water’ (P:80; MA:636)] (Smith, 1910:19, VW:557-558). Puhvel (1991:404) subscribes to the same theory, though he assumes an initial laryngeal, and adds Hittite hurnai-, hurniya- ‘spray, sprinkle’ and Greek hraínō ‘sprinkle’ (< *h₂wrn-ye/o- [though one might have supposed such a shape to have given *huraínō]) to this etymon. However, if the Tocharian forms belong here, they must come from an otherwise unexampled zero-grade *wṛ-. One might imagine a *wṛri or a thematized *wṛrom but neither possibility carries much conviction. +See also wriyeṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+warañce* (?) +(nf.) +‘sand’
+[-, -, warañc//] +nauṣañi Kank c[k]ene waräñcampa eneśle pañäkti ‘former buddhas like [= as many as] the sands of the Ganges’ [in a MS where /ā/ appears as <a> whether stressed or not and /ä/ appears as <a> stressed and <ä> unstressed] (552a6/b1), aurtsai ysā-yokäṃ waraṃ[c]/// ‘the broad, golden sand’ [in a MS where the "standard" values of <a>, <ā>, and <ä> obtain, that is /ä/ appears as <a> stressed and <ä> unstressed while /ā/ appears as <ā> stressed and <a> unstressed] (566b6). +‣The form of this noun is not as clear as it might be. The balance of the evidence suggests that the accusative singular should be /wāräñc/ underlyingly with stress on the second syllable (so 552b1 and 566b6). However, /wäräñc/ is also a possibility (so 142a3). Its cognacy with TchA wāryāñc suggests the former rather than the latter. Perhaps the first <ä> of wäräñcäṣṣa is a second case of a "super-short" /ā/ just as <wät> is for expected <wat>. + -- waräñcäṣṣe* (?) ‘prtng to sand’: wäräñcäṣṣa mäṣce [lege: mäśce] ‘a fist [full] of sand’ [in a MS where /ā/ appears indifferently as <ā> and <a> (save once [135b8] wät), but /ä/ always appears as <ä>] (142a3). +∎Etymology unclear. Clearly related to TchA wāryāñc ‘id.,’ it nonetheless is not directly equatable. To connect the two Tocharian forms we might reconstruct in the first instance a PTch *wārwā/äñce. The cluster *-rw- regularly gives TchB -r- (cf. ṣmare). In TchA it might be possible to assume that *wārwāñce has become *wāryāñce be dissimilation. I rather think TchA is more conservative vis-à-vis the vowel of the second syllable. In Tch B *-āñce might have been replaced by the more common *-äñce (cf. salañce, arañce). Reconstructing *wārw-āñce allows us to connect this word with the heretofore isolated Sanskrit vāluka- ‘sand’ (usually in the plural vālukāḥ). Also semantically attractive would be a connection within TchB of warañce with yare ‘gravel.’ The latter word might reflect a PIE *wero- while the Tocharian and Indic words for ‘sand’ would be based on a lengthened grade *wōru-. If the PIE words were *h_xwero- and *h_xwōru-, it would be possible to connect the semantically similar set in Germanic, i.e. Old Norse úr (nt.) ‘slag, dross,’ aurr (m.) ‘sand mixed with stone,’ and eyrr (f.) ‘gravelly bank (along a rivershore or extending into the sea).’ The latter two would be Germanic innovations involving a new "misplaced" full-grade and the first with a neological full-grade as sometimes happens. (De Vries, 1962:20, s.v. aurr lists an Old English ēor ‘gravel’ which would certainly belong here but I do not find it in either Bosworth and Toller or Clark Hall. Less likely would be a further connection with Old Irish úr ‘earth, clay,’ New Low German ūr (> Dutch oer) ‘iron-bearing earth’ (< ‘bog-iron’?), Old Norse ýrr (m.) ‘brittle iron’ (if this does not belong with the first set), aurr (m.) ‘wet clay, loam; mud, wet soil,’ Old English ēar (m.) ‘earth, humus.’ This latter set all seems to revolve around a notion of *‘wet earth’ and thus might be further connected with Old Norse úr (nt.) ‘drizzle,’ ýr (f.) ‘id.,’ Sanskrit vāri ‘water,’ etc. There is of course the possibility that these two groups were secondarily connected in Germanic in the meanings of ‘slag, dross,’ ‘iron-bearing earth,’ and ‘brittle iron.’ In any case, not with VW (552) connected with Old Icelandic vǫr ‘landing place’ (in modern Norwegian and Icelandic > ‘high bank of rock or gravel’), OHG wuorī ‘dam,’ waroδ ‘bank, beach,’ Old English wer (< Proto-Germanic *werjōn ‘weir’ whose further connections are dubious (see De Vries' discussion, 1962:674-5). This Germanic group would appear to be derivatives of an underlying ‘raised bank’ or the like and have nothing to do with ‘sand.’ +See also possibly yare. +

+ + +
+

+wareññe +‘?’
+[Ār]yamārg ñem wareññe/// (428a1). +

+ + +
+

+warkaṃñe +‘?’
+/// warkaṃñe ñī /// (303.f). +∎Perhaps the usual assumption that this stands for *warkālñe, the abstract derived from wārk- ‘shear,’ q.v., is correct. +

+ + +
+

+warke* +(nm.) +‘garland’
+[-, -, warke//-, -, warkeṃ] +sumānṣeṃ warkensa māladaṇḍi kärskemane ... sumāṃnṣeṃ warkensa kärṣalya ‘strewing the M. with garlands of sumānas ... it [is] to be strewn with sumānas garlands’ (M-3a4). +∎Semantically enticing is VW's connection (1941:152, 1976:545) with Albanian varg ‘chain, string (of beads), necklace, chaplet, etc.’ Possibly too we should include Greek órkhos ‘row of vines or fruit-trees.’ These would represent PIE *worg^ho- (for the Albanian and Greek) and *wṛg^ho- (for the Tocharian), or possibly alternative thematicizations of a root noun *worg^h/wṛg^h- (MA:354). +

+ + +
+

+warkṣäl +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘power, strength, energy’
+[warkṣäl, -, warkṣäl//] +mā k_ulā-c warkṣäl ‘thy energy did not slacken’ (104a1), po warkṣältsa wäntalyi ite pännāte karṣṣa ‘he stretched full the bow with all [his] might and shot’ (109b6), amarṣsa Jaṃbudvipṣeṃ lantäṃts po krempär warkṣäl ‘out of vexation they checked the energy of all the Jaṃpudvīpa kings’ (PK-13E-b8 [Couvreur, 1954c:88]). + -- wärkṣaltstse* ‘powerful’: yewe retke wärkṣalyci ‘weapon and army [were] powerful’ (PK-NS-36A-b2 [Couvreur, 1964:247]). +∎TchA wärkṣäl and B warkṣäl reflect PTch *wärkṣäl (there is no need, with VW, to see in B warkṣäl a borrowing from A). This *wärkṣäl is a verbal noun (cf. trenkäl or enkäl) to an otherwise unattested verb *wärks-. With VW (1941:152, 1976:560) this *wärks- must be connected with the common PIE *werǵ- ‘do, work’ [: Avestan vərəzyeit ‘works, does.’ Gothic waurkeiþ ‘id.’ etc. (P:1168; MA:649)]. +See also possibly wārk-. +

+ + +
+

+warñai +(postposition) +‘beginning with; et cetera’
+kwri war tākaṃ yolmene wināññenträ omp lwāsa lakṣäṃ warñai ‘[if] there is water in the pond, the animals there enjoy fish, etc.’ (11b4), śaul-warñai saim ‘life-long refuge’ (48b3), śaultsa wärññai ‘life-long’ (143a3), ñakesa warñai ‘from now on’ [?] (169a2), ce cämeltsa wärñai ‘beginning with this birth’ (228b4), kossa wärñai māka = BHS yāvatā bahu (305b4), ṣamāne mäsketrä mā totsa warñai = BHS bhikṣur bhavati na tāvatā (H-149-ADD.124b2 [Thomas, 1974:93]). +∎Clearly, as VW has seen (546), we have an old accusative singular to a noun *warño or the like which should have meant ‘± beginning.’ However, beyond that any connections are most unsure. (VW himself suggests a connection with Greek aeírō ‘raise.’) +

+ + +
+

+wartto* +(nm.) +‘forest’
+[-, -, wartto//wärttonta, -, -] +wayā-ne śerwe wartone maitar śerītsi ‘the hunter led him into the forest; they went to hunt’ (44a2), niṣīdaṃ kamāte Andhave warttone masa ompalskoññe lamatsi ‘A. picked up [his] sitting-mat and went into the forest to meditate’ (H-149.X.4a3 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]). + -- wärttoṣṣe ‘prtng to the forest’ (88a2/3); +
+wartto-wṣeññai-saim ‘forest-dwelling-refuge’: warto-wṣeṃñai-saimtsa wes śayeṃ omte pintwātsa ‘we live there by alms in the forest-dwelling-refuge’ (PK-AS-16.2a5 [Pinault, 1989:155]). +∎TchA wärt (pl. wärtant) and B wartto (wärttonta) reflect PTch *wärtto/wärttonta. The apparent double consonant causes some difficulty but probably we should connect this word with Old English worþ ‘piece of land, farm’ and Sanskrit vṛti- ‘enclosure’ (Lidén, 1916:139-140, and VW:562; P:1161-1162; MA:199). The semantic development might be something of the sort ‘enclosure’ > ‘sacred enclosure’ > ‘sacred grove’ > ‘forest’ (cf. Melchert, 1984:111). +

+ + +
+

+warpamo +(adj.) +‘enjoying, perceiving’
+[m: warpamo, -, -//] +k_use sū wärpamo śpālmeṃ śaiṣ[ṣ]e /// (339b2). +∎A derivative (built on the subjunctive stem) of wärp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+warme* +(n.) +‘ant’
+[//warmi, -, -] +mäkte warmi lestaine yänmaskeṃ ‘as ants enter into [their] hill’ (154a5). + -- wärmiye ‘prtng to ants’: wärmīya lesto ‘an ant hill’ (154a5), wärmiye tsarātre ‘ant extract’ [= ‘formic acid’?] (W-3a5). +∎As if from PIE *wṛmo-, a deformation of the *wormo- (P:749; MA:24) that lies behind Sanskrit valmīka-, vamrá-, Greek bórmaks, búrmaks, hormikas, múrmēks, Latin formica (VW:546). +

+ + +
+

+Waryacaṃndre +(n.) +‘Vīryacandra’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Waryacandre, -, -//] +(435a2). +

+ + +
+

+Warwattsake +(n.) +‘Warwattsake’ (PN in graffito)
+[Warwattsake, -, -//] +(G-Su24). +

+ + +
+

+warśo* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± plain’ (?)
+[//-, -, warśaiṃ] +wärttoṣṣa[na] warśaiṃne (542b3). +∎Meaning doubtful, etymology unknown. VW (546) takes it as a derivative of warañc ‘sand,’ i.e. *wäräñś-o > *wäräśo > *wärśo, but neither the phonological nor the semantic development is very clear. +

+ + +
+

+warṣaññe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[warṣaññe, -, -//] +[twe ñī yaitkorsa ma]nt pyām warṣaññe - mn ̇r ̇ parra yaṃ (LP-25a1). +‣In form this word would look to be an adjective from wārṣe ‘robber’ but the context cannot be said to favor such an interpretation. +

+ + +
+

+wartse +See aurtse. +

+ + +
+

+walāk- +(vi.) +‘stay, tarry, abide, dwell’
+Ps. I /wolok-/ [MP wolokmar, -, woloktär//-, -, wolokentär [sic]; MPImpf. -, -, wolośitär//] +onmiṣṣana pwārasa tsäksemane marmanma tronktse stām ra sälpiñ cittsa wolokmar nuskaskemar marmanma inkauṃ-kästwer ‘[while] the vessels [of the body] burn in fires of repentence like a hollow tree, I abide with a glowing spirit, I depress [my] vessels’ (TEB-64-05), cwī ykuwa toṃ ykentane wolo[kträ] [yna]mw [second restoration uncertain] ente ‘wenn er [scil. der könig] an den von ihm [scil. Uttara] betretenen orten (traurig?) verweilt’ [Thomas, 1983:242] (88b2), tumeṃ tsenkenträ wolokenträ ‘thereupon they rise up and abide’ (PK-7-Ka2 (Couvreur, 1954c:83)). +∎Underlyingly /welāk-/, (as if) from PIE *wolh_ag-. /welāk-/ gives wolok- regularly by mutual rounding (cf. kalāk-, parāk-, and sanāp-). Ultimately connected with PIE *wel- ‘turn, roll’ (cf. wäl- and wāl-). Compare, without the laryngeal, English walk and Sanskrit válgati ‘moves (the limbs).’ Similar in formation are kalāk-, parāk- and sanāp-. For the etymology, see Adams (1988b); similar is VW (1970a:170, 1976:580). +See also walke. +

+ + +
+

+walāneṃ +(n.?) (adj.?) +‘?’
+piñña saukeṃ walāneṃ (429a5). +

+ + +
+

+walāntsa * +(n.) +‘hindrance (to religious life), besetting sin’
+[//-, -, walāntsaṃ] +saṃsārṣṣana tserekwa snai lyiprä [ñäś aiśi]mar | piś pälskontse walantsaṃ tsätkwatsñenta śtwāra ṣpä ‘may I know the delusions of the saṃsāra completely, the five hindrances of the spirit and the four perversions’ (229a5/b1). +‣The equivalent evidently of BHS nīvaraṇa-. +∎An agent noun, based on the subjunctive stem, from wāl-, q.v. For the formation, compare preṃtsa ‘pregnant; potent’ from pär- ‘bear.’ Similarly, VW (542). +

+ + +
+

+walo +(nm.) +‘king’
+[walo, lānte (~ lānti), lānt (voc. walo)//lāñc, lāntäṃts, lāntäṃ] +[A]reṇemiṃ lānte ypoytse salyai lyutstsante ‘they were driven [beyond] the border of king A.'s land’ (86a5), ylaṃts walo ‘the king of the gazelles’ (232b5), lantäntso lantuñ[e]s[a] ś[au]l ws[ā]st[a] ‘thou gavest life by the royalty of kings’ (241a1), wälo = BHS -rājā- (310a3), ṣkas kṣuṃntsa Nāśmi lānti ‘in the sixth [year] of the regnal period of king N.’ (PK-Cp.25.1 [Pinault, 1987:160]). +∎TchA wäl (obl. lānt) and B walo (obl. lānt) reflect PTch *wälo (obl. lānt-), (as if) from PIE *wl-eh_a-nt-, a participial formation to verb *wl-eh_a- ‘to control’ (VW:554, following a suggestion of Meillet's, 1914:18) (cf. P:1111-1112; MA:490). Celtic shows a morphological zero-grade *wlḥ_a- in Old Irish flaith ‘rule; prince,’ flaithem ‘ruler,’ Welsh gwlad ‘land,’ gwledig ‘ruler,’ Gaulish vlatos ‘ruler.’ +See Further see wlāw- (and also lāntsa and lantuññe). +

+ + +
+

+walke +(a) (adv.); (b) ([indeclinable] adj.) +(a) ‘for a long time’; (b) ‘long [of time]’ (used only with nouns of time, i.e. preke and preściya)
+(a) anaiśai kwri pa[pā]ṣṣoṣ walke klyentar [lege: -är] k[o]kalyi ‘if they [take] care, the wagons will last a long time’ (5b2), [ne]ṣmye nāki krentäṃ śāmnaś mā tu walke tswetär nta ‘evil gossip and blame, it never sticks to good men for long’ (16a1), [pe]laikneṣṣe cākkär se walke stamoy ‘may this law-wheel last for a long time’ (313b5), walke yamalñe = BHS cirakriya- (Y-3a5); +
+(b) walke preścyantsa emp[e]lona akwatsana lkāṣṣäṃ nrainne läklenta ‘he sees for long periods of time terrible and sharp sufferings in hell’ (19a1). + -- walkeññe (adj.) ‘long (of time)’: mā walkeññe yā/// (FS-b3). +∎Possibly (as if) from PIE *wlh_ago- (similarly VW, 1970a:170, 1976:542) and thus related to walāk-, q.v. Alternatively it may be related to OCS velikъ ‘great’ (as by Meillet, 1911:149). +

+ + +
+

+walkwe +(n.) +‘wolf’
+(K-T). +∎From PIE *wḷk^wo- [: Sanskrit vṛka- ‘wolf,’ Avestan vərka- ‘id.,’ Gothic wulfs ‘id.,’ Albanian ujk ‘id,’ etc. (P:1178-9; MA:646-647)] (VW, 1969:495, 1976:542). +

+ + +
+

+wawāttsa +See wapāttsa. +

+ + +
+

+Waśampile +(n.) +‘Waśampile’ (PN)
+[Waśampile, -, -//] +(LP-3a3). +

+ + +
+

+waśīr * +(n.) +‘thunderbolt, diamond’
+[-, -, waśir//] +ṣañ läklenta warpatsi waśīr klautkoy-ñ arañce ‘may my heart change into diamond to endure my sufferings’ (S-8b1). + -- waśīräṣṣe ‘prtng to a diamond or thunderbolt; adamantine’: waśiräṣṣe arañcn[e] ‘in the adamantine heart’ (591b7), waśīräṣṣ[e] = BHS vajra- (H-ADD.149.79b2 [Couvreur, 1966:178]). +∎From BHS vajar- or, perhaps, some Prakrit equivalent. +See also wājrä and wajrasaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+waṣamo +(nm.) +‘friend’
+[waṣamo ~ wāṣmo, waṣamontse ~ wāṣmontse, waṣamoṃ (voc. waṣama)// waṣamoñ ~ wāṣmoñ, wāṣmoṃts, wāṣmoṃ] +krent wāṣmontsā menkitse ‘lacking good friends’ (282a1), waṣamoṃ = BHS mitraṃ (308a3), waṣmo ma nesn ñi srukalyñeṣṣ=īme ‘the thought of death is not my friend’ (K-11a7). + -- wāṣmoṣṣe ‘prtng to a friend, friendly; prtng to friendship’ (282a5). +∎With VW (548) a derivative of ²wäs-. More particularly we have a possible PIE *h₂wōs-e-mon-. For the quality of the root vowel at least, one might compare Old Irish fóaid ‘spend the night’ (< *h₂woseti). +See also waṣamñe*. +

+ + +
+

+waṣamñe* +(n.) +‘friendship’
+[-, -, waṣamñe//] +waṣamñe ya[mītär] = BHS sakhyaṃ kurvīta (307b7), Mahāsaṃmati [lā]nte [e]piyacäññe lyewītär caumpa ṣesa waṣamñe enkaṣṣitär ‘king M. sent a memento [in order that] he concluded friendship with him’ (PK-AS-16.3b6 [Pinault, 1989:157]). + -- waṣämñeṣṣe ‘prtng to friendship’: wa[ṣa]mñ[e]ṣṣepi pälsko[nts]e = BHS maitrasya cittasya (307a6). +∎A derivative of waṣamo, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+waṣik +(n.) +‘?’, only in the compound waṣik-kälpaṣṣuki* (n.)‘waṣik-stealer’
+[se ṣamāne ... ytā]ri yaṃ waṣik-kälpaṣṣukiṃ yoñyai-ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ käryorc-cempa wat [waṣik = Uyghur yolo of unknown meaning] (330a5). +∎In form (-ik) it looks to be possibly an Iranian borrowing. Just possibly we have a pre-Khotanese *waža- + -ik, where *waža- is Avestan wazya-, Khotanese baśa-, Shughni wīz, all ‘load.’ Schaefer (1997:171) suggests a borrowing from a Middle (Eastern) Iranian *βāžiyaka- or *βāžika-, a derivative of Old Iranian *bāži- ‘tribute, toll’ (cf. Avestan bāji- ‘tribute, toll’). Such a suggestion seems less likely to me on the formal side, in the absence of any other indication that Iranian *b/β- would be borrowed as Tocharian w- rather than as p-. +

+ + +
+

+waṣe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘lie, untruth’
+[-, - waṣe//] +waike waṣe ṣpä käskor wat wentsi ‘to tell a lie, [to speak] calumny or gossip’ (31b4=32a6), [waike] saimä yāmormeṃ naki weskeṃ krenttäntsä wäṣṣe weskeṃ ‘having taken refuge in lying, they speak blame, they tell lies about the good’ (255b7). + -- waṣe-reki ‘id., calumny’: waṣe reki no lāre yamanträ ‘[if] however they love calumny’ (K-8b3). +∎Etymology unclear. VW suggests (548-9) a connection with the Indo-European word for ‘two,’ more particularly from a *dwes- which, however, seems not to exist. Better would be a connection to the multiplicative *dwis ‘twice’ (e.g. English twice, Latin bis). Waṣe would be (as if) from PIE *dwis-en- ‘the thing [said] in two ways’ or ‘duplicity.’ +

+ + +
+

+waṣetsāk +‘?’
+/// waṣetsāk śtwāra āyatanta aiśai yama/// (183a5). +

+ + +
+

+wasa +See i-. +

+ + +
+

+wasaṃpaṃ +See wasaṃpāt. +

+ + +
+

+wasaṃpāt +(n.) +‘ordination’
+[N+gen. wasaṃpāt yām- ‘ordain s.o.’] +se ṣamāne menki-īkäṃ-pikwalaṃñepi onolmentse wasaṃpāt yamaṣṣäṃ pāyti su mā wasaṃpaṃ tākaṃ ‘whatever monk ordains a person less that twenty years old, pāyti; this one will not be ordained’ (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]), wasaṃnpātäṣ [lege: wasaṃnpātäś] kauke ‘request for ordination’ (KVāc-24b4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1986]). +∎From BHS upasaṃpadā- and upasaṃpanna-. +See also wasaṃnpātmaññe. +

+ + +
+

+wasaṃnpātmaññe +(n.) +‘place of ordination’ (?)
+(Couvreur, 1968:277). +∎Like yärkemaññe, taupemaññe, and wīnāmāññe, a compound whose second member is -maññe ‘± place,’ q.v. In the absence of any context for this word, its exact meaning cannot be determined. +

+ + +
+

+Wasave* +(n.) +‘Vāsava’ (PN)
+[-, Wasavi, -//] +(Qumtura 34-g1 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+wase* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘poison’
+[-, -, wase//] +ñäś mā yesaññe wase yokalle rekaunaṣṣe ‘I must not drink the poison of your words’ (23b5), matre-ws=arṣ[āk]l[o] ‘a snake with sharp poison’ (43a6). + -- wsetstse ‘poisonous’: wsettse stām ‘a poisonous tree’ (139b7), wsecce sapule = BHS viṣakumbha (534b3), wsets[a]na lwāsane ‘among poisonous animals’ (575b1); +
+wseṣṣe ‘poisonous’: ///ets wseṣṣe añiye tarärm[pa] tasem[a]ne ‘the poisonous breath of the ... like a cloud’ (H-149.71ar [H:30]). +∎TchA wäs and B was reflect PTch *wäse from PIE *wiso- [: Sanskrit viṣá- (nt.) ‘poison,’ Avestan viša- (nt.) ‘id.,’ Greek īós ‘id.,’ Latin vīrus ‘id.,’ Middle Irish fí ‘id.’ (P:1134; MA:439)] (Pisani, 1942-43a:32). To be rejected is Duchesne-Guillemin's (1941:167), VW's (563), and Winter's (1998:351-352) connection with wäs- ‘give’ (cf. German Gift). +

+ + +
+

+waskāmo +(adj.) +‘moving, mobile’
+[m: waskāmo, -, waskāmoṃ//] +pälyca-pälyc ra waskamo ñke śāmnants pälsko ‘the thought/spirit of men [is] exceedingly mobile’ (245b4/5). + -- waskamñe ‘mobility’ (?): /// nai wask[a]mñe yoko /// (514a1). +∎An adjectival derivative from the subjunctive stem of wāsk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+waste +(n.) +‘refuge’
+[waste, -, waste (voc. wasta)//] +eś-lmoṣepi cwi waste tākoym śaiṣṣe[ntse] ‘may I be a refuge for this blinded world’ (22b1), cämpan-m[e] laklene waste nestsi ‘he can be a refuge in their suffering’ (77a2). +∎Etymology unclear. TchA shows waste also, but the cluster -st- shows that this word is a borrowing from B. Probably, TchB waste reflects a PIE *h₂ustó- built from the h₂wes- ‘dwell, spend the night’ (cf. wäs-²). With VW (547-8) one should compare particularly Middle Irish foss ‘rest’ (< *h₂wosto-). Less probable is Normier's suggestion (1980:259) of a *wisto-, related to Sanskrit veṣt- ‘wind, twist around.’ Phonologically and semantically unlikely is VW's later suggestion (1980[82]:) of a *wḷ-sth₂o- ‘cover-place.’ +

+ + +
+

+wasto +(adv.) +‘again, doubly, doubled, in two ways’
+carka kektseñmeṃ swañcaiñ [war w]äs[t]o wranta ca[r]k[a tarne]meṃ paryarinta paiynemeṃ ‘he released rays and water from [his] body [in] two-fold [fashion]: he released water from the top of his head and magical flames from [his] feet’ (108b6), tak wasto tot [ingredients] ‘each [of these ingredients] doubled so much’ (W-9a3). + -- wästo-yäkne ‘id’: /// āstre wästoykne [] kektseñäṣṣe [re]k[i]ṣṣe se śīl westrä ‘in two ways pure; this moral behavior of body and word is spoken of’ (386b3). +∎TchA wäṣt and B wasto reflect PTch *wästo from PIE dwisth₂o- [: Sanskrit dviṣṭha- ‘in two places, ambiguous’] (Winter, 1987:242). As with wato, q.v., wasto represents a frozen feminine accusative singular (i.e. *dwisteh_am). Not with VW (1976:565, 1989:97-100) from *dwe-s-to-. The distributive yästā[r] which has been supposed to exist at 404b1 (what we have is yäsnā///) is too doubtful to be taken into account with this etymon. +

+ + +
+

+wasso* +(n.) +‘kuśa-grass’ (Desmostachya bipinnata Stapf) (?)
+[//-, -, wässaiṃ] +wässaiṃ rano = BHS kuśāpi (530b1). +∎Perhaps related in some fashion to TchA wäsri ‘grassy field, lawn’ (cf. Avestan vāstra- ‘pasture,’ Hittite wesi- ‘id.’). +

+ + +
+

+wastsi +(nnt.) +‘clothing, clothes [collective]; garment [non-collective]’
+[wastsi, wästsintse, wastsi//wästsanma, -, wästsanma] +śarye wassi rutkāte kaunäś sark kauc yāmṣate ‘he took off [his] upper garment and put [his] back high to the sun’ (5b4), ṣamāni wasy ausoṣäṃ sanghāti ‘monks wearing the sanghāti-clothing’ (31b7), kärstoṣ wastsi = BHS saṃghāṭī (32b4). +∎The infinitive of ¹wäs- ‘to dress, be clothed,’ q.v., used as a noun. +

+ + +
+

+watsālo* +(n.) +‘[a type of] pot’ or ‘waterskin’ (?)
+[-, -, watsālai//] +[ā]ntsesa watsālai premane war āṣtsiś yakne yamaṣäṃ ‘he makes [in this] way to fetch water, bearing the pot/waterskin on [his] shoulder’ (91a1). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (1988:100-101), assuming the correctness of Thomas' (1954:754) proposed meaning, ‘waterskin,’ suggests the possibility that we have a borrowing of some sort from Sanskrit vatsá- ‘calf’ (a waterskin from calf-skin?). +

+ + +
+

+wāk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘burst (intr.), split apart; unfold, bloom (of flowers),’ K ‘split, separate’
+G Ps. Iv /woko-/ [MP //-, -, wokontär]; Ko. V. /wākā-/ [A //-, -, wākaṃ; AOpt. -, -, wākoy//]; PP wāwākā-/; +
+¹K Ps. VIII /wāks^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, wākṣtär//; Ger. wakṣalle]; +
+²K Pt. IV /wākäṣṣā-/ [A -, wākäṣṣasta, -//] +po ratanta wokonträṃ [sic] ytarye l ̇/// ‘all the jewels are splitting/bursting’ (553b5); /// päkṣallona mäkte wākaṃ tumeṃ ścireṃ /// ‘... [are] to be cooked; as they split/burst then [with] sharp ...’ (W-12b3); wāko_i iprerntse (PK-12-H-b4 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]); posa auṣap pos=olypo pomeṃ wākṣtär-ś ‘above all, over all, and from all it separates thee’ (231b4), serintsa matsi wakṣālle [lege: wakṣalle] ‘with a comb [?], the hair [is] to be separated’ (W-12a5); ///vaiyneyets po wākäṣṣasta (214a1). +‣For the meaning one should compare A-255b6 (śraluneyā āriñc wākaṣ omäl ysār ṣunkac kalkaṣ ‘by splitting the heart will burst; hot blood will come to the throat’) or A-75a2 (tsräṃ päryo āriñc wākṣantaṃ ‘piercing the heart with a sharp arrow’). +∎TchA wāk- and B wāk- reflect PTch *wāk- from PIE *wag- [: Greek ágnumi ‘break apart’ and possibily Latin vāgīna ‘sheath’ (cf. P:1110; MA:538)] (Pedersen, 1941:197, VW, 1941:155, VW:550-1). Whether or not there is a further connection with Hittite wāki ‘bites’ and Sanskrit vajra- ‘cudgel, thunderbolt’ is uncertain. The Tocharian present is (as if) from PIE *wag(h₁)ó-. +See also wāki. +

+ + +
+

+wāki +(nm/f.) +‘distinction, difference’
+[wāki, -, wāki//-, -, wakanma] +soṃśke ste ṣañ śaulameṃ snai wāki [la]rauñesa ‘[his] son is without difference in love from his own body’ (81a5/6), piś wakanmasa yaitusa ‘distinguished by five differences’ (108a9), wāki = BHS viśeṣam (308a6), wāki = BHS prāptiviśeṣam (Y-3b1). + -- wakītstse ‘distinguished, distinctive’: [pete]-ñ klyauṣtsi wakīce ślok pūdñaktäññ[e] ‘give me to hear the distinguished śloka of the Buddha’ (100b3); +
+wakītsñe ‘distinction’: /// [bo]dhisātweṃts w[a]k[ī]tsñ[e] w[ä]tk[ā]ltse ‘the different distinction of the bodhisatvas’ (384a2); +
+wakissu* ‘± distinctive, distinguished’: (106.2b). +∎A nominal derivative of wāk-, q.v. Matched in TchA by wākäm which, with B wāki reflects a PTch *wākämi̯ä(n) (as if) from PIE *wágmen. +

+ + +
+

+wākte +(n.) +a foodstuff (?)
+[wākte, -, -//] +kapyāres klese masa tarya tom wākte wi tom ‘for the workmen came 3 tau klese, two tau wākte’ (434a5), arkwaññai enmelyantse wākte (W-31a5). +

+ + +
+

+wājrä* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘thunderbolt, diamond’
+[-, -, wājrä//] +ce ñäś vājrä taläṣṣi[m] ‘may I raise up this thunderbolt’ (387.1a), ñäkcyeṃ yetweṃtsa yaitu vājr eṃnku ṣarnene ‘the thunderbolt decorated with divine jewels, taking [it] in [thy] hands’ (TEB-58-22). +∎From BHS vajra-. +See also wajrasaṃ and waśir. +

+ + +
+

+wāp- +(vt.) +‘weave’
+Ko. V /wāpā-/ [MP -, -, wāpatär//; Inf. wāpatsi]; Pt. Ib /wāpā-/ [A -, -, wāpa//]; PP /wāwāpā-/. +mäkte ña[re] pännowo kos sarkimpa w[ā]p[a]trä ‘as the stretched thread, as often as he weaves [it] with the weft’ (3b5); mäkte ypentse wpelm=auñento ṣpak wāpatsiś ‘just as the beginning to weave the spider's web [is]’ (286a5), alecce wāpatsi watkäṣṣäṃ ‘[if] he orders [someone] unrelated to weave’ (H-149.37b4 (Thomas, 1954:726)); ce pässak wāpa kavviṣṣe ‘he wove the kavi-garland’ (429b1). +∎TchA wäp- and B wāp- reflect a PTch *wäp- from PIE web^h- ‘weave’ [: Sanskrit. ubhnāti/umbháti/unábhdhi ‘binds together,’ Greek huphaínō ‘weave,’ Albanian venj (< *web^hnyō) ‘weave,’ Old English wefan ‘weave’ (P:1114; MA:572)] (Couvreur, 1947:9, VW:557). The thorough-going -ā- of B presumably represents a generalization of the root vowel of the subjunctive and/or preterite where it is regular by ā-umlaut in forms which had PIE o-grade, ie. A o-grade eh_a-iterative-intensive.. +See also yape, wepe, and wpelme. +

+ + +
+

+wāy- +See āk-. +

+ + +
+

+wārk- +(vt.) +‘shear’
+Pt. Ib /wārkā-/ [A //-, -, warkāre] +śānta warkāre ysañiye yok tāka ‘they sheared the sheep; golden was the wool’ (452a1). +∎TchA wärk- (cf. present participle wärkṣantāñ) and B wārk- reflect PTch *wärk- from PIE *werǵ-. The Tocharian words are matched most closely in Armenian gercum ‘shave, cut [hair]’ (VW:559). It seems possible to me that the meaning seen in Tocharian and Armenian might be a specialized sense of the widespread *werǵ- ‘work, do’ (P:1168-9; MA:252). If so, we might compare in Tch warkṣäl whose formation shows the same present-stem in -s- that is seen in A wärkṣantāñ. +See also possibly warkaṃñe. +

+ + +
+

+wārp- +(vt.) +‘surround’
+PP /wāwārpā-/ +ṣamānentsa wawārpau grahanman[e] m[e]ñe ra ṣpäk tāsātai ‘thou hast set thyself, surrounded by monks, as the moon [is set] among the planets’ (215b2=221b1), mäkte ost poṣiyantsa [wa]wārpau ‘as a house [is] surrounded by sides/walls’ (A-2a4), [śtwāra-wert]syaṣṣeṃ āstreṃ ñaktentsa wawārpau ‘surrounded by the pure gods of the four orders’ (TEB-58-20). +∎TchA wärp- and B wārp- reflect PTch *wärp- from PIE *werb^(h)- ‘twist, bend’ [: Gothic wairpan ‘throw,’ Latin verbera ‘switches, lashes, thongs,’ Lithuanian vir̃bas ‘switch, rod,’ English wrap, etc. (P:1153)] (VW:561-2, based on Lane, 1938:29). Particularly one should compare Hittite (anda)warpāi- ‘encircle’ which like B wārpā- is a denominative. Wārpā- is from a PTch *werpe (seen in A warp ‘enclosure’) while the Hittite verb is from warpa- ‘id.’ Both *werpe and warpa- reflect a PIE *worbo- (see Melchert, 1984:157; MA:199). +See also werwiye, werpiśke, wārp-, and wārw-. +

+ + +
+

+wārw- +(vt.) +‘prod, urge, spur (on)’
+Ps. IX /wārwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, wārwäṣṣäṃ//; APart. wārwäṣṣeñca ‘urging, spurring’]; Ko. (= Ps.) [A -, -, wārwäṣṣäṃ//; MPOpt. wārwäṣṣim, -, -//]; Pt. Ib /wārwā-/ [MP -, -, warwāte//] +srukalyñeṣṣ=īme waṣamo nauṣ wā[r]wäṣṣeñca ṣek ‘[if] the thought of death has been earlier a friend, [then it is] always something spurring [one] on’ (K-11b6); su ñakte ompalskoñe[ś] warwāte ‘the god prodded him[self?] toward meditation’ (525b1). +∎TchA wārp- and B wārw- reflect a PTch *wārp- which looks to be a denominative (*werpā-) ‘prod, switch’ built to a *werpe ‘± lash, stick’ [: Latin verbera ‘lashes, scourges, thongs,’ Greek rábdos ‘stick, lash,’ Lithuanian vir̃bas ‘rod, switch, stick’ (P:1153)] from *werb- ‘twist, bend’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:149, VW:551, though with differing details). The second -w- in wārw- (as compared to the -p- in A) results from "lenition" after a long vowel followed by a resonant (cf. waiw-). +See also wārp-. +

+ + +
+

+wārṣ(ṣ)e* +(n.) +‘robber’
+[//wārṣṣe, -, wārṣṣeṃ] +se ṣamāne lykaṃ wārṣeṃmpa plākisa ytāri yaṃ ‘whatever monk goes on the road by agreement with thieves and robbers’ (H-149.X.3a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]), wārṣṣe nestä ‘thou art a thief’ [wārṣṣe = BHS steya-; in the same passage TchB lyak = BHS cora-] (H-149-ADD.8a3f.). +∎VW (551-2) suggests a PIE *h_2/3wōrg^h-s-en- and a relationship to Old Icelandic vargr ‘malefactor; one who is proscribed; (metaphorically) wolf,’ OHG warg ‘devil; criminal,’ Old Saxon warag ‘accursed,’ Old English wearg ‘evil, malignant, accursed; villain, monster, malign being,’ Old Prussian wargs ‘evil’, OCS vragъ ‘enemy,’ Russian vórog ‘enemy, devil,’ Hittite hurkil ‘sin, perversion’ (MA:141). The loss of Tocharian *-k- between -r and -ṣ- would need some explaining given its preservation in warkṣäl. Since the latter word is ultimately part of a verbal paradigm, the -k- may have been analogically restored or the loss of *-k- may have been regular in the consonant cluster *-rks- but not after a vowel in *-ṛks-. +

+ + +
+

+wāl- +(vt.) +‘cover, conceal, obscure; surround, enclose, hem in’
+Ps. VI /wālnā-/ [Ger. walanalle]; Ko. V /wālā-/ [AOpt. -, -, wāloy//-, -, wāloṃ; MPOpt. -, -, wāloytär//; Inf. wālatsi]; Pt. Ib /wālā-/ [MP walāmai, -, -//]; PP /wāwālā-/ +śār kātsasa walanalle śanmäṣṣälle cankene nauntse maskeṃtär (W-14b2); [saṃsā]rṣṣana tserekwa snai lyiprä [ñäś aiśi]mar | piś pälskontse walantsaṃ tsätkwatsñenta śtwāra ṣpä [: mā toṃ] waloṃ aräñc ñi cmelmeṃ cämel mā märsoym ‘may I know the delusions of the saṃsāra completely, the five hindrances of the spirit and the four perversions; may they not cover my heart; may I not forget birth [comes] from birth’ (229b1-3), viparyāsṣe sūrmesa mā ṣ wāloyträ piś cmelṣeṃts ek pälskoṣṣe ‘may the cataract of delusion not obscure the spiritual eye of the five births’ (S-6b2); [mā] ñiś caukamai kca mā ra walāmai kca ‘I didn't hide anything, neither did I obscure anything’ (27b8); krākesa wawālaṣ po pälskonta läkle lkāskeṃ ‘all spirits covered by dirt see [= know] pain’ (221b4), wawāla[ṣsa] = BHS āvṛtena (534b5). + -- wālalñe ‘covering’: wālalñe = BHS cchadanaṃ (534a4). +∎TchA wāl- and B wāl- reflect PTch *wāl- from PIE *wel- ‘wind, twist, bend’ [: Sanskrit válati ‘turns,’ vṛṇóti ‘covers, hems in,’ Avestan vərənavaiti ‘covers; turns,’ Armenian gelum ‘twist,’ Greek eilúō ‘wind up,’ Albanian vjell ‘vomit’ (< *welwō), etc. (P:1141-42)] (Reuter, 1934:12, VW:551, with differing details). The root vowel -ā- shows perhaps that we have a denominative verb (built to a PTch *wele from *wäl-) or an o-grade eh_a-iterative-intensive. Another analysis is offered by Hilmarsson (1991:45-47). +See also walantsa and, more distantly, wäl-, wlaṃśke, and yel. +

+ + +
+

+wāli +(n.) +‘creeper, liana’
+[wāli, -, -//] +wāli ramt tatākausa s ̇ /// (11a2). +∎From BHS vallī- (Sieg, Siegling, 1949:169). At least partially overlapping in meaning with laitke. +

+ + +
+

+wālts- +(vt.) +‘crush, grind; agitate, trouble’
+Ps. VI /wāltsnā-/ [A -, -, wāltsnaṃ (?)//; AImpf. -, -, waltsanoy//; Ger. waltsanalle]; Ko. V /wāltsā-/ [A //-, -, wāltsaṃ; AOpt. -, -, wāltsoy//; Ger. waltsālle*]; Pt. Ib /wāltsā-/ [A -, -, wāltsa//waltsām, -, waltsāre]; PP /wāwāltsā-/ +aknatsā ... aiśaumye śen onkolmai śaiṣṣene ṣäñ yoññiye [lege: -ai] wa[ltsna]n ma ‘the fool and the wiseman [both] set the elephant in motion; it does not crush [i.e. make] its own way in the world’ (255a7); onkolm=eñcwañña waltsanoy-n=āsta lykaśke ‘an iron she-elephant crushed his bones fine’ (22b4); toṃ satkenta lykaśke waltsanalle ‘one [is] to grind these remedies finely’ (W-33b1); spaitu ra waltsañy [lege: waltsaṃ ñi] āsta lykaśke po wnolmi ‘all creatures crush my bones fine like dust’ (220b4), toṃ saṃtkentane [lege: saṃtkenta] astare nanāṣṣusa klyiye tkācer wāltsoy ‘a cleanly bathed woman or daughter should grind these medicines’ (P-2b6); rohinikene satkenta waltsalya (W-15a5); [ya]p wāltsa tarya taum ‘he ground three tau of millet’ (459a4)[wā]ltsoy pälsko = BHS matheta cittam (H-ADD.149.85b5 [Thomas, 1974:87]); [ingredients] wawāltsau warsa yokalle ‘having ground [the ingredients] it [is] to be drunk with water’ (P-1b5). +∎Perhaps from PTch *wäl(t)s- (see wälts-) either as a denominative verb *wel(t)sā- from a nominal derivative *wel(t)se from *wäl(t)s- or directly from *wäl(t)s- by analogical extension of the root vowel -ā- regular as the result of ā-umlaut in the subjunctive and/or preterite (for a similar extension, see wāsk-). The basic etymological connection was seen by VW, 1941:150, 1976:543. Alternatively one might see here the Tocharian descendant of a putative PIE o-grade eh_a-iterative-intensive *wolh₂-s-eh_a- from *welh₂- ‘strike’ (cf. Hittite walh- ‘strike’). If the latter, see also possibly Ylaiñäkte. +

+ + +
+

+wāsaṃ* +(n.) +‘(false) conception, idea’
+[-, -, wāsaṃ//] +mā tot ñiś pintwāt warpalle nesau kossa wāsaṃ kleśanma mā wikäskau ‘as much as I do not enjoy alms, by so much do I not avoid false conception and kleśas’ (107b10). +∎From BHS vāsanā-. +

+ + +
+

+wāsk-/wäsk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘move, budge, have motion (intr.); move (from a place) (intr.); tremble;’ K ‘move (tr.), shake (?)’
+G Ps. XII /wāskäññ^'ä/_e- ~ wäskäññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, wäskantär ~ waskantär//]; Pt. Ib /wāskā-/ [MP -, waskātai, waskāte//]; PP /wāwāskā-/; +
+K Ps. IX /wāskäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, wāskäṣṣäṃ//] (331a1). +[ma]nta ykemeṃ wäskänträ ‘he never moves from [his] place’ (143b1), mā wāskänträ = BHS na prakampate (H-149-ADD.124a3 [Thomas, 1969:297]), mā wa[s]kanträ = BHS na prakampyate (U-18b2); kelästa läkle pratinmeṃ waskātai ma at=ate śaiṣṣe tsälpastsī läklentameṃ ‘thou hast borne pain; (however,) from your intention to free the world from sufferings, thou hast never moved/budged’ (224b2/3), mäntak srukau mā waskāte ‘ever dead, he didn't move’ (606a1); wawāskau ste arañce yainmu traike ‘the heart is moved having achieved error’ (unpubl. Paris fragm. [Couvreur, 1954c:88]). +‣The -ä- of the root is more original. It has been replaced, partially in B, entirely in A, by -ā- generalized from the subjunctive and preterite where it is the regular development by ā-umlaut. +∎TchA wāsk- and B wāsk-/wäsk- reflect PTch *wāsk-/wäsk- from PIE *weg^h-sḱe/o-, a derivative of *weg^h- ‘shake, set in motion’ [: Gothic ga-wagjan ‘shake,’ English wag, Latin vexāre ‘shake, vex,’ Homeric gaiēokhos ‘earth-shaking’ (MA:507)]. See Melchert, 1977:109. Otherwise Hilmarsson (1991:42-43), who would relate these Tocharian words with OCS dvignǫti ‘move,’ Russian Church Slavonic dvigatsja ‘id.’ Not with VW (1941:155-156 and 1976:552-3) to PIE weǵ^h- ‘convey.’ +See also awāskatte, waskāmo, and perhaps wäks-. +

+ + +
+

+wäks- +(vi.) +‘± be restless, wander’
+Ps. III /wäkse-/ [MP -, -, wäksetär//-, -, wäksentär]; PP /wäkso-/ (497a4). +śitkai - nano nano preksemane tākaṃ tanāpatentse palsko lau wäksetär tränkossu mäsketär ‘[if while there is] questioning again and again by the benefactor, the mind wanders afar, it is sinful’ (331b1/2), tesa śaiṣṣe wäksenträ ālyauwcemeṃ ce preke aumiyene pälskoṣṣe [mā] kälpasträ emälyai ‘thus [is] the world; they wander away from one another at this time and in the spiritual fever it doesn't achieve warmth’ [or ‘they wander away from one another at this time of spiritual fever and it (scil. the world) doesn't achieve warmth’] (255b4/5). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps it is to be connected with PIE *weg^h- ‘shake, tremble’ (cf. wāsk-); one might particularly compare formally Latin vexāre ‘shake, vex’ (Hilmarsson, 1991:42). Otherwise VW (553) who derives it from PIE *weǵ^h- ‘convey.’ +See also possibly wāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+wänk- +(vt.) +‘± prepare’
+Pt. IV /wänk(äṣ)ṣā-/ [MP -, -, wänkṣāte//] +käryorttau ksa lyakā-ne istak [k]lautka śnoy ākṣa tumeṃ sā_u śem kauc ersate-ne oskai wayāte-ne śwātsi wänkṣāte-ne ‘a certain merchant saw her [lying on the ground]; immediately he turned to [his] wife and exclaimed; she went, raised her up, led her to [their] house, and prepared food for her’ (TEB-66-36). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+wät- +(vt.) +‘fight’
+Pt. Ia /wätā-/ [A //-, -, witāre] +[śem Prasṃna]ke Māgatäṣṣe lānt wrattsai witār=ālyau[ce] ‘P. went up against the king of Magadha and they fought one another’ (21b7). +∎TchB wät- and weta, along with A wac ‘combat, struggle’ reflect a PTch *wät- and its derivatives. PTch *wät- is, in turn, from PIE *wed^h- ‘strike (down)’ [: Sanskrit vadhati ‘strikes (down),’ Greek (Hesychius) éthei ‘destroys,’ Old Irish fáisc- (< *wōd^h-sḱe/o-) ‘press,’ OCS sъ-vada ‘fight’ (P:1115; MA:471)]. This etymology of Krause's (1943:32) is wrongly rejected by VW (543-4) in favor of deriving the word from a PIE *dwet-, a putative derivative of the word for ‘two.’ +See also weta, wetā_u, and eweta, and, more distantly, yatwe. +

+ + +
+

+wätk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘separate, distinguish, decide,’ K ‘command, order’
+G Ps IXa /wätkāsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, wätkāṣṣäṃ//]; Ko. I /wotk-/ [A -, -, wotkäṃ//]; Ko. V /wätkā-/ [Ger. wätkālle]; Pt. III /(w)otkäs-/ [A -, -, otkasa//]; PP /wätko-/; +
+K Ps. IXb (= Ko.) /wätkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A watkäskau, watkäst, watkäṣṣäṃ//-, watkäçcer, -; AImpf./Opt. -, -, watkäṣṣi//]; Ipv. II /päyätkā-/ ASg. pitka; APl. pitkaso]; Pt. II /yātkā-/ [A yātkawa, yātkasta, yātka//-, -, yātkare]; Pt. Ia /wätkā-/ [A -, -, watka//]; PP /yeyätku-/ +keṃ ma tällaṃ yoloytä [lege: yoloynä] ṣek wänträ no wotkäṃ kr[_u]i ‘the earth will not always bear evil; if it decides, it will cover [it]’ (255a6); kuśal wäntre wätkālye aiśaumyempa tākoy ñi (S-6a4); /// otkasa-me (366b5); ñśameṃ wätkoṣ ... ñī soṃśke ‘my son, separated from me’ (88b2), [wät]k[o]ṣä añ[mantse] = BHS prahitātmasya (TX-4a1 [Thomas, 1974:91]); k_use parso watkäṣṣäṃ pai[katsi] ‘whoever orders a letter written’ (65a3), watkäścer-ñ ... ypoyme[ṃ lyutsi] ‘you order me to leave the country’ (79a4), ārkwi parśi-ne ks=ārkwi watkäṣṣi ‘should he ask [after] the white, he would order [it to be] white’ (28b4); twe pitka wes ām lamam ‘command us [that] we sit in peace’ (TEB-67-41); yātka-me walo lyutsi ‘the king commanded them to leave’ (18a2), [śän]mässi yātka-me ‘he ordered them [to be] bound’ (589b4), ñäś tū tañ yātkawa piṃtwāt aitsi ‘I ordered thee to give that [as] alms’ (H-149-ADD.7b2 [Thomas, 1954:726]); jñātikeṃ wāpatsi watka snai tränko ‘he ordered J. to weave [it] faultlessly’ (H-149.37b6 [Thomas, 1954:727]); śīltsa oktace yaitkoṣ ‘commanded by the eightfold [norm of] moral behavior’ (520a4). + -- wätkāṣṣälyñe ‘command’: wätkāṣṣälyñesa = BHS śāsanena (251b2). [[>]Notice that though built to the Grundverb, the meaning is that of the causative (therefore wätkāṣṣälñe = watkäṣṣälñe).] +
+watkäṣlñe ‘command’: k_use poyśintse watkäṣlñe kektseñ reki palskosa tukne stamoym ‘may I stand in this, whatever command of the Buddha, for body, word, or spirit’ (S-6b4). +∎TchA wätk- and B wätk- reflect PTch *wätk- from PIE *wi-d^h(h₁)sḱe/o- [: Sanskrit vidh- ‘satisfy with an offering’ (< *‘distribute, lay out an offering’), Latin dīvidō ‘I divide’ (< pre-Latin *dis-wi-dō)], from *wi- + *d^h(e)h₁- (MA:642). See Melchert, 1977:113. Surely not with VW (567) from *dwet-, a putative derivative of ‘two’ or with Schneider (1941a:47) from *wed^h- ‘strike.’ +See also wätkāl, wetke, yaitkor, yotkolau, and aitkatte. +

+ + +
+

+wätkāl +(adv.) +‘decisively’
+po pelaiknats ṣä[rm oko kä]rsoym wätkal aräṃntsä [lege: aräñcsa] ‘may I know decisively and by heart cause and effect of all laws’ (229a5). + -- wätkāltstse ‘different; forceful’: wätkālyci śāmna = BHS gṛddhā narā (308a4), tanāpate inte śaulu-wärñai wätkāltse kakākau tākaṃ ‘if a donor should invite [a monk] energetically for [his] whole life’ (331a3), mā wätkāltsana yuṣona yndrinta mäskentär-me ‘their senses are not distinguished and lazy’ (K-7b6), watkāltsa täne atānesa wärñai śänmāṃnmāsa kektseñe śeśänmusa ‘different here [is the case of] the body bound with bonds on its wrists’ (PK-12I-b6 [Thomas, 1979:12]), eśn=āṃtpi ... wätkāltsana ... mā rano klänkarṣkana ‘both eyes resolute and not wavering’ (H-149-ADD.166b3 [Hilmarsson, p.c.]). +∎A derivative of wätk-, q.v. More particularly we have the fossilized accusative singular of a verbal noun in -l (cf. trenkäl and enkäl). +

+ + +
+

+wättänt-kene* +a meter (perhaps of 2 X 14 syllables with a rhythm of 7/7)
+[-, -, wättänt-kene//] +(514a4). +

+ + +
+

+wäty- +(n.) +‘?’
+[pratsā]k[o] kañcāṃ-ysāṣṣa wäty ̇ ramt (75a1). +‣Do we have here either wätyūt or wätyot from BHS vidyut- or vidyota- ‘bright light, flash of lightning’? +

+ + +
+

+wänt- +(vt.) +‘± cover, envelop’
+Ps. VI /wäntnā-/ [A //-, -, wäntanaṃ]; Ko. (?) I /wänt-/ [MP -, -, wantär//; Inf. wantsi]; PP /wänto-/ +/// tarnesa laṃ po kektseñ wäntanañ-c ‘[they] will emerge from the top of the head; they cover all of thy body’ (567b3); keṃ ma tällaṃ yoloytä [lege: yoloynä] ṣek wänträ no wotkäṃ kr[_u]i ‘the earth does not bear evil always; if it decides, it covers [it]’ (255a6); wäntsi wes twoṣ ṣeme ko/// (H-149.316b3 [Couvreur, 1954c:84]); p[a]ryariṣṣai [lege: -eṃ] slem[e]ntsa wantoś [lege: -ṣ] wane [lege: gune] lyakāsta Tiyṣiṃ [lege: Tiṣyeṃ poyśiṃ] ‘thou didst see in the cave the Buddha Tiṣya covered with marvelous flames’ (296a9). +∎TchA wänt- and B wänt- reflect PTch *wänt- from PIE *wend^h- [: Gothic windan ‘wind, twist,’ etc., and nominal derivatives in Indic, Armenian, and Greek (P:1148; MA:607)] (Schneider, 1939:249, VW:556). The semantic development would be something on the order of ‘wrap up’ > ‘cover.’ +See also wente and wäntalyi. +

+ + +
+

+wäntare +(nnt.) +‘thing, affair, happening’
+[wäntare, wäntarentse, wäntare//wäntarwa, wäntarwaṃts, wäntarwa] +mäksu wat wäntre lykaṃts kärkatsi a[māskai] ‘or what thing [is] difficult to steal by thieves?’ (14b7), wäntre = BHS dharma- (31a7), ce_u wäntare po poy[ś]intse ‘[he took] the whole affair to the Buddha’ (44b7), [mä]rseträ nauṣäññana wäntärwā po päst ‘he forgets completely all earlier events’ (121a7), kuṣaiṣṣe wäntareṃmeṃ [sic] ‘from a village happening’ (540b5), wäntare = BHS artha- (547a3), totteṃ wäntaresa ‘by this extreme circumstance’ (DAM.507-a10 [Pinault, 1984a]), sankantse pelaiykneṣṣe wäntare ‘a legal affair of the community’ [H-149.X.3b1 (Couvreur, 1954b:48]), kramarce wäntare ... rautkaṃ ‘[if] he moves a heavy object’ (H-149-ADD.8a7 [Thomas, 1954: 761]), pärnāññana wäntarwaṃts ‘of external things’ (K-8a6). + -- wäntarwatstse ‘prtng to things, etc.’: [okt] wäntarwatse = BHS aṣṭadravyakaḥ (193a7). +∎(As if) from PIE *wṇdṛwó- a derivative of *wend- ‘speak (solemnly)’ seen, as such, only in Indo-Iranian [: Sanskrit vándate ‘praises,’ vandanam ‘praise,’ vandāru- ‘praising, praise,’ Avestan dužvandru- ‘blaspheming’ and possibly in Tocharian we- ‘speak’ (VW:556-7; the connection with we- goes back to Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:159)]. Particularly we can see *wṇdṛwó- as a thematic derivative (with end stress and consequent reduction of previous vowels) of the *we/ondoru- lying behind Sanskrit vandāru-. The reduction in Tocharian B of *-ärwe- to -äre- is probably regular; cf. ṣmare ‘fat’ from *smerwo-. It is therefore unnecessary (with VW) to assume both a *-ro- stem and a *-ru- stem. +

+ + +
+

+wäntalyi* +(n.) +‘bow(-string)’
+[-, -, wäntalyi//] +po warkṣältsa wäntalyi ite pännāte karṣṣa ‘he stretched full the bow with all [his] might and shot’ (109b6). +∎Whatever the exact meaning, it is presumably a derivative of wänt-, q.v. The semantic development would be something on the order of ‘that which is wrapped around’ > ‘that which is bent’ (cf. the semantic history of English bow). Semantically possible is VW's suggestion (556) of a relationship with Lithuanian vìngis ‘bow, bending’ but the reduction of *-nkt- to -nt- is not well supported (cf. pinkte ‘fifth’ with such a cluster preserved). +See also wänt-. +

+ + +
+

+wäntreśśe* +(adj.) +‘± longing for, wanting (things)’ (?)
+[m: //wäntreśśi, -, -] +aknātsaññesā ñäkti lāñco wäntreśśī mā cai [lkān-ne] (274a4). +∎The meaning is suggested based on a presumed etymological relationship with wäntare, q.v. Perhaps for *wäntreṣṣe? +

+ + +
+

+wäm- +(v.) +‘± disappear into, be covered up’
+PP /wämyu-/ +/// śaiṣṣe se kleśanmaṣṣai wämyu räskre kāswasā | ankaiṃ placsa sewīträ atkwal ṣpä ‘this world is roughly covered by the leprosy [?] of kleśas and because of false speech it itches atkwal’ (282a4). +‣Compare A 259a2: yäṣ koṃ-pärkāntac yäṣ ṣkārā koṃ-wmānt ‘he goes to the east, he goes back to the west’), 237a1: śāsträntu wākmtsaṃ entsānt wom[a]r ///. Looking at the meager attestations in both TchA and B, it would appear that we have a verb with a meaning similar to that of Greek dúō ‘disappear into, sink into, cover oneself with, etc.’ (cf. also dúsis ‘west’). +∎Perhaps (with VW:578-579) related to Greek dúō (otherwise only weakly attested in Sanskrit upādutya- ‘[that which] is to be put on’ [the Greek-Sanskrit connection is accepted by Frisk, 1960:428, but categorically rejected by Mayrhofer, 1963:25]). If so, we might have a PIE *dw-em- with the same élargissement we see in käm- (*g^wem-, cf. g^weh_a-) ‘come,’ and perhaps yām- ‘do, make’ (if *yoh₁-m-, cf. TchA ya- from *yeh₁-), ṣäm- (if *sd-em- or *h₁s-em-) ‘sit.’ +

+ + +
+

+wämpatsake +(n.) +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[wämpatsake, -, -//] +(W-3b3). +

+ + +
+

+wär- +(vt.) +‘practice’
+Ps. IXb (= Ko.) /wäräsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, warästär//; MPPart. waräskemane; Ger. waräṣṣälle]; Ipv. II /päyärā-/ [MPPl. pīrat]; PP /yeyäru-/ +warästrä = BHS bhāvayate (8b7); aśubh ṣek waräṣṣä[lle] ‘the aśubha-meditation [is] always to be practiced’ (9a3), palsko waräṣṣälle āyorne ‘the spirit [is] to practice in giving’ (K-6a5); /// [yaik]ormeṃ arkwīna pīrat ṣa[māni] /// [pīrat = BHS bhāvayata] (299a4); tū yairu tākaṃ sū ceṃ ñakteṃne tänmasträ ‘[if] he has practiced it, [then] he will be [re-]born among the gods’ (K-2a4). + -- waräṣṣälñe ‘practice’: ñäkcye-śaiṣṣeṣṣe waraṣlyñ[e] ‘the practice of the divine world’ (A-1a1), waraṣṣälñentse menkītsñesa ‘because of the lack of practice’ (K-6a4). +∎Etymology unclear. TchA wär- and B wär- reflect PTch *wär- which may be from a PIE *wer- related to OHG (gi)werēn ‘grant, concede; furnish, give’ and Old Saxon warōn ‘accomplish’ (VW:558-9). Alternatively we might have a derivative of PIE *wer- ‘pay attention to’ (P:1164; MA:417). If the latter, see also yärp-, wär-sk-, and perhaps wärp-. +

+ + +
+

+wärp- +(vt.) +‘partake,’ that is: ‘undergo, suffer, enjoy’ [always middle]
+Ps. VI /wärp(ä)nā-/ [MP wärpnāmar, -, wärpnātär ~ wärpanatär//-, -, wärpnāntär ~ wärpanantär; MPImpf. -, -, wärpanoytär//; MPPart. wärpnāmane ~ wärpaname; Ger. wärpnālle ~ wärpanalle]; Ko. V /wärpā-/ [MP -, -, warpatär//; MPOpt. warpoymar, -, -//-, -, warpontär; Inf. warpatsi; Ger. warpalle]; Ipv. I /päwärpā-/ [MPSg. pūrwar; MPPl. pūrwat ~ pūrpat]]; Pt. Ia /wärpā-/ [MP wärpāmai, wärpātai, wärpāte// wärpāmte, -, wärpānte]; PP /wärpo-/ +erkatñe tallārñe snai keś wärpanaträ tne piś toṃ cmelane ‘vexation and suffering without number he suffers in these five births’ (42b3), yāmornta wnolmi makci yamantär mäkcik tuntse okw empelye wärpānantär [lege: wärpanantär] ‘[if] beings themselves do the deeds, they will enjoy the horrible fruit thereof’ (17a5), pälskoṣṣāna läklenta | cm[e]l[n]tse ṣärmtsa po wärpänanträ onolymī [sic] ‘because of birth all beings undergo spiritual pangs’ (284b1); śwer meñtsa ka ṣamānentse kāko wärpanalle ste ‘four months [only] is the invitation to be enjoyed by the monk’ (331a2); ot tāṃ pātrai warpoymar ‘thus may I enjoy this begging bowl!’ (20a5); [yo]lo oko warpatsi ‘to enjoy an evil fruit’ (268a3); [sa]k wa[rpalle] = BHS sukhavedanīyaṃ (532a1); purwar wesanmeṃ pinwāt ‘enjoy these alms from us!’ (107a8); pūrpat tā pelaikneṣṣai yokastai ‘enjoy the nectar of the law!’ (231b3); [skwa]nma māka wärpāmai ‘I have enjoyed much good fortune’ (372b3), wrocce t[e]ki wärpāte ‘he suffered a great disease’ (34a6), camel wärpāte ‘he underwent birth’ (42b4). + -- warpalñe ‘perception, feeling, sensation; enjoyment’: te k_use ste akṣai warpalñe [= gloss of BHS jāti] (156a4), warpalñentse = BHS vedanānirodhaḥ (157b3), pyāpyo ra warpalñe [warpalñe = BHS vedanā] (PK-NS-53-b1 [Pinault, 1988]); +
+warpalyñeṣṣe ‘prtng to sensation, perception’: warpalyñaṣṣe [lege: arpalyñeṣṣe] āntse = BHS vedanaskandha- (154a6); +
+wärpormeṃ: wärpormeṃ = BHS anumodya (543b6); +
+warporṣe ‘prtng to enjoyment, sensation’ (?): (91a2). +∎TchA wärp- and B wärp- reflect PTch *wärp- which may be as VW supposes from PIE *wer- ‘pay attention to’ + a labial élargissement (560-1, though details differ). Against such a hypothesis is the lack of parallelism with other PIE verb roots in -r- that appear with Tocharian labial élargissements, i.e. yärp- (surely from *wer-) ‘pay attention to’ and ṣärp- ‘explain’ where we very clearly have an e-grade of the root. Perhaps instead we have *wi-r(e)p- or *wi-rup-, both ‘take (away), take to oneself’ [: (for the first) Greek eréptomai ‘feed on,’ Latin rapiō ‘seize, snatch, tear away,’ Albanian rjep ‘snatch, rob,’ etc. (P:865), or (for the second) Sanskrit rúpyati ‘suffer violent pain,’ Latin rumpō ‘break,’ Old English rēofan ‘break, tear,’ Lithuanian rūpėti ‘be anxious, uneasy’ (P:870)]. For the semantic development one might compare English partake or PIE *terp- ‘enjoy, be satisfied’ [: Greek térpomai ‘enjoy,’ Sanskrit tṛpyati ‘id.’] but also ‘take’ [: Avestan trəpya- ‘steal,’ Sanskrit paśu-tṛp- ‘cattle-stealing,’ asu-tṛp- ‘life robbing’]. +See also warpamo, wärpauca, and perhaps yärp-. +

+ + +
+

+wärpamo +See warpamo. +

+ + +
+

+wärpauca +(n.) +‘one who partakes’
+[wärpauca, -, -//-, wärpaucaṃts, -] +pkātkäṣṣat ceṃts pälskonta wärpaucaṃtso ailñesa ‘rejoice through the gift [in] the thoughts of these who enjoy’ (PK-17.4b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:90]). +∎A derivative of wärp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Wäryaruci* +(n.) +‘Vīryaruci’ (PN)
+[-, Wäryarucintse, -//] +(Dd.7). +

+ + +
+

+Wäryasene +(n.) +‘Vīryasena’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Wäryasene, -, -//] +(DAM.507-a14 [Pianult, 1984a:24]). +

+ + +
+

+wärścik +(n.) +‘hogweed’ (Boerhaavia diffusa Linn., aka B. procumbens) (a medical ingredient)
+[wärścik, -, -//] +(P-1a5). +∎Etymology unknown. +See also eśpeṣṣe. +

+ + +
+

+wärs- +(vt.) +‘pity, take pity on’
+Pt. Ia /wärsā-/ [A -, -, warsa//] +epyaic klormeṃ ce_u Bimbasāreṃ lānt wrocce | cwi warsa soṃśke ‘remembering this great king B., he took pity on his son’ (22a1). +∎TchA wras- and B wärs- reflect PTch *wärs- or, if the TchA forms are not the result of metathesis, *wräs-. Particularly if the former, the Tocharian forms may be from PIE *wer- ‘pay attention to’ (see yärp-, wär-sk-, and possibly wär- and wärp-) with an élargissement -s-. Certainly to be rejected is VW's connection (581) with Greek odúromai ‘bewail.’ +

+ + +
+

+wärsaññe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to the eleventh month’
+[m: -, -, wärsaññe//] +ikäṃ-ṣe kṣuṃntsa wärsaññe meṃne ikäṃ-okne ‘on the twenty-eighth of the month of wärsaññe in the twenty-first [year] of the regnal period’ (LP-2a2), ikä[ṃ]-ṣe kṣuntsa wärsaññe meṃne ‘in the twenty-first [year] of the regnal period, in the eleventh month’ (Lévi, 1913:316). +∎Perhaps related in some fashion (an adjective from a noun *warse?) to TchA wars ‘stain, impurity’ as the ‘dark’ month (since the eleventh month corresponds more or less to January with its short days and long nights)? With TchA wars we have evidence of a PTch *wärs- ‘darken, soil’ and a regularly derived noun *werse ‘stain.’ This PTch wärs- may reflect a PIE *(s)wer-s- ‘color with a dark color’ [: (Iranian) Digoron xuārun ‘to color,’ xuārän ‘(a) color,’ Sogdian xwrn ‘(a) color’ and probably as the first element of Chorasmia (Bailey, 1976); with extensions in Latin sordeō ‘am dirty,’ Gothic swarts ‘black,’ Old English sweorcan ‘be dark, sad’ (P:l052; MA:147)]. Tocharian is unique in not showing the s-mobile and in having the élargissment -s-. Phonetically acceptable but semantically unlikely is Schneider's suggestion (1940:195-7; cf. also Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941: 162-3, VW:546) that we have here reflexes of PIE *wers- ‘rain, dew.’ +

+ + +
+

+wär-sk- +(vi./vt.) +‘smell’ (both transitive and intransitive)
+Ps. I/II /wär(-^'ä/_e)-/ (tr.); Ps. IXa /wärsk^'ä/_e-/ (only intrans. attested) [A -, -, warṣṣäṃ//-, -, warskeṃ]; Ko. V /wärā-/ (tr. with cognate accusative) [Inf. wrātsi]; Ko. IXa (= Ps.) (only trans. attested) [Inf. wars(t)si]; Pt. Ia /wärskā-/ (only trans. attested) [MP //-, -, wärskānte] +/// wawakauwa pyapyaino wartto räm no wawarpo [lege: wawarpoṣ] warträ ‘he smells the blooming flowers surrounding, as it were, the forest’ (247b4); mäkte wassi swarenäṃ werempa tattaṃ ksa walke waipte kartse werenmeṃ sū wassi ykāk swāre warṣṣäṃ ‘as clothing is placed with an agreeable odor, longtime separated from that agreeable odor, this clothing still smells good’ (A-2b3/4), kektseñmeṃ cpi [karttse warṣäṃ-ne] kektseñmeṃ cpi yolo mā warṣäṃ-ne ‘from his body it smells good; from his body it does not smell bad’ (K-11a2), askwaś[i] rano pupaṃñ warskeṃ = BHS kuśāpi pūtikā wānti [sic] (308b4); koynameṃ yolo were onolments aunasträ wrātsi ‘from the mouths of such creatures he begins to smell an evil smell’ (K-8b3); mäkte krokśaṃts cäñcarñe pyāpyai warstsi ‘as the pleasure of bees [is] to smell a flower’ (313a2); stanāmeṃ okonta wärskānte pyapyaiṃ karānte ‘they smelled the fruit from the trees, they gathered the flowers’ (576a2). +‣From the limited evidence it would appear that TchB has wär-sk- as both an intransitive, active in form (= ‘emit a smell’) and transitive, middle in form (= ‘receive a smell’). TchA may be similar with its active Ps. VIII, wräṣ = B Ps. IX. In TchB, however, beside wär-sk- there is the, presumably older, intransitive middle wär(-^'ä/_e)- (Ps.) and wärā- (Ko.). +∎TchA wär- and B wär-sk- reflect PTch *wär- from PIE *wer- ‘perceive, pay attention to’ [: Greek (Hesychius) hórei ‘guards,’ horáō ‘see,’ Latin vereor ‘honor, fear,’ English beware, Latvian véru ‘show, remark about’ (P:1164; MA:417)]. The semantic development seen in Tocharian is paralleled by French sentir ‘smell’ from Latin sentīre ‘feel’ (Lane, 1938:29, Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:151-152, VW:558). +See also were and, more distantly, yärp-, and possibly wär-, wärs-¹, and wärp-. +

+ + +
+

+wäl- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘curl (intr.);’ K ‘curl (tr.)’
+G PP /wälo-/; +
+K PP /yeyälu-/ +waiptār wloṣäṃ letseṃne ... lwāsa ñi lestai yāmwa ‘animals having made a nest for me in the disheveled [lit: scattered and curled] locks’ (89a2); yailuwa tanki pärkron[a] pr[a]r[o]ññ ‘curled, thick, long fingers’ (73b1). +∎From PIE *wel- ‘wind, twist, bend’ [: Sanskrit válati ‘turns,’ vṛṇóti ‘covers, hems in,’ Avestan vərənavaiti ‘covers; turns,’ Armenian gelum ‘twist,’ Greek eilúō ‘wind up,’ Albanian vjell ‘vomit’ (< *welwō), etc. (P:1141-42; MA:607)] (VW:555, with differing details). +See also wāl-, wlaṃśke, and yel. +

+ + +
+

+wälts- +(vt.) +‘put together, press together’
+PP /aultsu- < *wewältsu-/ +ṣukt pälskonta aultsuwa sū ṣe Manāyataṃ ñem ‘the seven [ways of] thought [are] brought together under the single name Manāyatana’ (192a3). +∎TchA waltsurā ‘in brief’ (= B aultsorsa) and B wälts- reflect PTch *wäl(t)s- from PIE *wel-s- ‘press, squeeze’ [: Homeric Greek eílō ‘I squeeze, press’(< *wel-ne/o-), Attic eíllō ‘id.’ (< *welnye/o-?), and nominal derivatives in Greek and Balto-Slavic (P:1138)] (VW, 1941:150-1, 1976:542-3, though differing in details). For the form of the reduplicated preterite participle, see now Ringe (1989). +See also aultsorsa and perhaps wālts-. +

+ + +
+

+wäs-¹ +(vi.) +‘be dressed in, wear; get dressed (in), put on’
+Ps. IXa /yäss^'ä/_e-/ (?) [MPImpf. -, -, yaṣṣitär//; Ger. yaṣṣälle]; Ko. I [Inf. was(t)si; see wastsi ‘clothes’]; Pt. /wässā-/ ~ /wäṣṣā-/ [A //-, -, wäṣṣāre; MP -, -, wässāte//]; PP /ausu- < *wewäsu-/ +sonopitär līkṣītär wästsanma krenta yäṣṣitär ‘he anointed himself, bathed, and put on good clothing’ [with a figura etymologica] (A-1a6); [anta]riye wastsi yäṣä[lle] ‘an under (or lower) garment [is] to be worn’ (320b4); wässāte kaṣār-wassi ‘he was dressed in a monk's garment’ (107b4/5); kaṣār nauṣ ausu ‘he who earlier wore the monk's garment’ (44a5), [kärsto]ṣ waṣtsi [lege: wastsi?] ausu ‘dressed in torn clothing’ (92b2). +‣It is difficult to know exactly what the morphological analysis is for this verb. The present might be yäs-s^'ä/_e- (as given above), yäs-sk^'ä/_e-, or even yäs-w-^'ä/_e- and the preterite is similarly ambiguous. TchA is no help since the only stem attested there is wäsā- (preterite and subjunctive, the latter in the form of the derived noun wsāl ‘clothing’ and the optative stem wsī-) and the thematic subjunctive (or present?) waṣ- (in the gerund waṣlaṃ). For the form of the reduplicated preterite participle, see now Ringe (1989). +∎TchA wäs- and B wäs- reflect PTch *wäs- from PIE *wes- ‘be dressed, wear, get dressed’ [: Sanskrit váste ‘be dressed, get dressed,’ Avestan vaste, vaṅhaiti ‘id,’ Greek énnumai (aorist es(s)ai) ‘wear,’ Albanian vesh ‘wear’ (< *woseye/o-), Gothic wasjan ‘wear’ (< *woseye/o-), Hittite wess- ‘wear,’ wasse/a- ‘clothe’ (< *woseye/o-), etc. (cf. P:1172-3; MA:109)] (Meillet, 1912:112, VW:564). It is possible that the present or subjunctive TchA waṣ- reflects PIE *woseye/o- just as Gothic wasjan, Albanian vesh, and Hittite wasse/a-. +See also wastsi. +

+ + +
+

+wäs-² +(vi.) +‘dwell, abide, remain, lie (on)’
+Ps. IXa /wäsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, wsaṣṣäṃ//-, -, wsaskeṃ; APart. wsaṣṣeñca ‘dwelling, abiding’; wsaskemane ‘id.’; Ger. wsaṣṣälle]; Ko. IV /wäṣī-/ [A wṣiyau, -, waṣi//-, -, wṣiyeṃ; Inf. wṣītsi]; "Intensive" Pt. (Pt. VII) /wäṣiyā-/ [A wṣiyawa, -, wṣiya//]; PP /auṣu- < *wewäṣu-/ +wī pwārine kl[utk]au [ra]mt wsaṣṣäṃ lklessu ‘as if surrounded by two fires he remains unfortunate’ (9a7), pelaikne yamaṣṣeñca sak wsaṣṣäṃ ‘fulfilling the law, [in] good fortune he abides’ [= BHS dharmacāri sukhaṃ śete] (101a3), śtwārka wṣeññaṃne wsaskeṃ ‘they dwell in forty places’ [with a figura etymologica] (45b4); samantatirne wsaṣeñca ysomo sānk ‘the community dwelling together at S.’ (DAM.507-a1 [Pinault, 1984a:24]); wsäskemāne empelye [lege: empelyai] saṃsāräṣṣai kwaṣṣaine ‘dwelling in the terrible saṃsāra village’ (295a2); sankik raktsisa ṣamānentse eñatketse mā ceppille mā wsaṣṣälle ‘on a mat [belonging] to the community a monk unprompted [is] not to tread or lie on’ (TEB-65-17=H-149.X.4a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:43]), mā wsaṣlempa = BHS asaṃvāsyaḥ (H-149-ADD.8a3f.); mā wer śono wṣi-ñä nta ‘may hate and enmity never dwell in me’ (S-4b3), ytaricci wṣiyeṃ (136a3); /// saimne wṣotsy atemai [lege: wṣītsy artamai] ‘I loved to dwell in the refuge’ (595b7); papāṣṣorñ[e]ne osu wṣeyawa [lege: ausu wṣiyawa] ‘I dwelt dressed in moral behavior’ (591a7), k_ucempa sū wṣīya ri/// ‘with whomever he dwelt’ (44b3); lwasāntso auṣuwaṃts ṣesa ‘the animals having come together to dwell’ (46a7), kleśanma auṣuwa ñi aräñcne waiptār witskaṃ wawayw[a] ‘kleśas dwelling in my heart, spreading roots widely’ (228b1). + -- wṣīlñe* in ompostäṃ-wṣīlñe ‘consequence’: [witsakaṃtso yokaintse ompo]stäṃ-wṣīlñentasa mā sälkoṣäṃts ‘[if] the roots of desire and [their] consequences [are] not pulled out’ (11a7). +∎From PIE *h₂wes- ‘dwell, pass the night, stay’ [: Sanskrit vásati ‘dwells, passes the night,’ Avestan vaṅhaiti ‘dwells,’ Armenian goy ‘is, exists,’ Greek núkta áesa ‘I passed the night,’ Middle Irish fóaid ‘pass the night, dwell’ (< *h₂woseti), Gothic wisan ‘be,’ Hittite hwes- ‘live,’ huski- ‘wait for, linger, procrastinate’ (< *h₂us-sḱe/o-, cf. Puhvel's discussion, 1991: 410-411), and many nominal derivatives (P:1170-1171; MA:171)] (Feist, 1913:262, VW:564-5). The Tocharian B subjunctive wṣi- would appear to be directly comparable to Sanskrit uṣyate/uṣyati though both may be independent developments. For the form of the reduplicated preterite participle, see now Ringe (1989). +See also yṣiye, wṣeñña, waste, ost, waṣamo, and weswe. +

+ + +
+

+wäsk- +See wāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+wästarye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘liver’
+[wästarye, -, -//] +yä[kw]eññe oksaiñe läksaññe wästarye tu wikṣalle ‘horse, beef, and fish liver; it [is] to be avoided’ (559b4/5). +∎TchB wästarye is most closely related to Greek hústros ‘stomach’ or hustéra ‘womb.’ The Tocharian word reflects a PIE *ud^stṛyo- (VW:565, though details differ). More distantly the Greek and Tocharian forms (reflecting *ud-tero-) are related to PIE *ud-ero- [: Sanskrit udára- (nt.) ‘belly,’ Latin uterus ‘womb’ (with analogical -t-) and, with secondary guṇa, Old Prussian weders ‘belly,’ Lithuanian vėdaras ‘entrails (of fish),’ Latvian vêdars ‘belly’ (P:1104; MA:2)]. +

+ + +
+

+wi +(numeral) +‘two’
+ṣäṃṣalñe ṣe wī trai śtwer piś śak täṅtsi ‘counting: one, two, three, four, five, up to ten’ (41a8), cey wi omprotärcci kāśyapi ‘these two bebrothered kāśyapas’ [i.e. ‘The two K. brothers’] (108a8), wi ṣotrūna = BHS dvilinga (193a1), wi-meñantse-ne ‘on the second of the month’ (433a11), wi rsoñc ‘two spans’ (H-149.X.4b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). + -- wi-pewaṃ ‘two-footed’: lyakäṃ kraupträ snai-pewaṃ wi-pewaṃ śtwer-pewaṃ makā-pewaṃ ‘he gathered thieves [who were] without feet, two-footed, four-footed, and many-footed’ (H-149-ADD.6b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:93]), wi-ppewänne kṣattaryi śpālmeṃ ‘the kshariyas [are] the best among the two-footed [ones]’ (PK-16.2a1 [Pinault, 1989:154]); +
+wi-paine-wṣeñña* ‘footstool’: (Qumtura 34-g5 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +∎TchA wu (m.) and we (f.) reflect PIE *dwō(u) (m.) and *dwoi (nt.) [: Sanskrit dvā(u) (m.), dve (f./nt.) ‘two’ (< *dweh_ai and dwoih₁), Greek duō, Latin duo/duae, English two, etc. (P:229; MA: 399)]. TchB wi (m./f.) must be the equivalent of A we with the same treatment of PIE final *-oi we see in the nominative plural of thematic adjectives (B also thematic nouns): A -e, B -i. The specifics of this etymology go back to Winter, 1962a:29; see also VW:585-6 (following Meillet, 1911-1912:285, and Pedersen, 1941:76, 89), though the details differ. +See also wyār, wate, wato, wasto, and probably wi-. +

+ + +
+

+wi- +(vt.) +‘± frighten’
+Ps. IX /wiyäsk^'ä/_e- [A //-, -, wīyäskeṃ//] +∎TchA wi- and B wi- reflect PTch *wi- from PIE *dwei- ‘fear’ [: Avestan vaēþa- ‘menace,’ Armenian erknčim ‘I fear,’ Greek deídō ‘I fear’ (< *de-dwoi-a), Sanskrit dveṣṭi ‘hates, is inimical to,’ Avestan dvaēš- ‘be inimical to’ (P:227-8; MA:198)] (VW:572, based on Schindler, 1966, and VW, 1966a). This etymon is probably ultimately related to the word for ‘two’ as ‘be of two minds.’ +

+ + +
+

+wik- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘(decrease and) disappear,’ ¹K ‘shun, avoid,’ ²K ‘drive (away/off), cast out’
+G Ps. III /wike-/ [MP -, -, wiketär//-, -, wikentär]; Ko. V /wikā-/ [MP -, -, wikātär//; MPOpt. -, -, wikoytär//-, -, wikoyntär; Inf. wikātsi; Ger. wikālle]; Pt. Ia /wikā-/ [A -, -, wika//]; PP /wiko-/; +
+¹K Ps. VIII /wiks^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, wiksen; APart. wikṣeñca ‘avoiding’; wikṣalle]; Ko. II /wik^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, wiśäṃ//; AOpt. wiśim, -, wīśi//; Inf. wiś(t)si ~ wistsi]; Ipv. I /päwik-/ [APl. pwikso (K-1b5) ~ pwikaso (13a1)]; +
+²K Ps. IXb (= Ko.) /wikäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A wīkäskau, -, wīkäṣṣäṃ//-, -, wīkäskeṃ; AImp./Opt. wīkäṣṣim, -, wīkäṣṣi//; APart. wikäṣṣeñca ‘driving away, casting off’; Ger. wikäṣṣälle; Inf. wīkäs(t)si]; Ipv. II /päyikā-/ [ASg. pika; MPPl. pikat]; Pt. II /yāikā-/ [A -, yaikasta, yaika//-, -, yaikare]; PP /yeiku-/ +traike wrotstse amarṣe wikātär-me snai lyīpär ‘the great error of vexation will disappear [and leave] no remainder’ (PK-17.4a5 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]), [śā]päntse ñyātse päst wikoyträ ‘may the danger of cursing disappear completely’ (350b5); /// [ya]rk[e] preteṃts pakwāre waimene sklok wikātsi ‘honoring pretas is evil and [it is] difficult [for] doubt to disappear’ (127b6); brahmāṇ[i] śaulne [s]kw[añ]ñ[e] wikā-ne ‘his good fortune in life disappeared from the brahman’ (3a4/5), yātka-me walo lyutsi po ypoymeṃ wīka tarkär śakkeññeṃtso tsama yarke po[yśintse] ‘the king ordered them to leave the country; the cloud [over] the Śākyas disappeared and the honor of the Buddha grew’ (18a2); lakle sakwä wikṣeñca ‘avoiding [both] suffering and good fortune’ (S-7a6); yä[kw]eññe oksaiñe läksaññe wästarye tu wikṣalle ‘horse, beef, and fish liver, it [is] to be avoided’ (559b4/5); wīśim ñiś kallau ynāmñe ‘may I shun profit and esteem’ (S-4b2); [toṃ ślokan]m[a] ākṣa tarya yolaiṃ reki wiśsisa ‘he announced these three strophes [in order] to avoid [= that others might avoid] the evil word’ (20b5); mā tot ñiś pintwāt warpalle nesau kossa wāsaṃ kleśanma mā wikäskau ‘as much as I do not enjoy begging, so much will I not avoid false conception and kleśas’ (107b10); po yolaiñe wīkäṣṣiṃ po cmelane ‘may I drive away evil in all births’ (S-6b3); [aknātsaññe]ṣṣ= orkamñe wīkäṣṣeñca snai lyīpär ‘driving away the darkness of ignorance without anything left behind’ (99b2), [in Manichean script] vyk’šynč’ (Winter/Gabain, 1958:12); wīkäṣṣälle = BHS prahātavyaḥ (H-149. 46a4 [Thomas, 1969:295]), wikäṣlyi = BHS supraheyāḥ (H-149.109a1); ñi śle oko pika mentsi a[ñmameṃ] mentsisā kr_ui wikalle tako_i (295b7), pkärso maimäñci pikāt /// (284b7); [kä]ṣṣī su wrotse yaika-ne proskai ‘this great teacher cast out his fear’ (46a8); yaiku nāki = BHS apetadoṣa- (30a4). + -- wikormeṃ; +
+wikālñe ‘relinquishment’: cwi wikālñemeṃ = BHS tatprahāṇe (198b2). +
+wikṣälñe ‘extirpation’: eṃṣketse witskai wikṣälñe tuntse weskau ‘I speak of [its] extirpation, even to the root’ (K-3b2). [The meaning here is perhaps more to be expected of the second causative, q.v.] +
+yaikormeṃ: päst yaikormeṃ = BHS apanīya- (11a5); +
+wikäṣṣälñe ‘that which is to be put aside, cast off’: wīkäṣälñemeṃ = BHS vāhitvāt (309a3); +
+wikäṣṣälñeṣṣe* ‘prtng to that which is to be cast off’: wikäṣñeṣṣai lalyīntse = BHS parihāṇadharma (591b2). +∎TchA wik- and B wik- reflect PTch *wäik- with rebuilt zero-grade (Adams, 1978). Extra-Tocharian connections are less certain. It is either (1) from PIE *weiḱ- ‘enter into or away from’ (whether the entering is into the speaker's sphere of reference or into another) [: Sanskrit viśati/viśate ‘enters,’ Avestan visaiti ‘presents oneself,’ Lithuanian výkti ‘come, go,’ Greek éoike ‘seems, appears; resembles; seems fitting’] (Hollifield, 1978:178-80) or (2), the more common connection of the Tocharian words, from *weig- ‘± turn, move away’ [: Sanskrit vijáte ‘heaves, speeds, flees (away),’ Avestan vaēg- ‘sling, throw, swing,’ Old High German wīhhan, Old English wīcan ‘yield, give ground,’ Old Norse vīkva/vīkja ‘move, turn,’ Lithuanian vigrùs/víglas ‘quick, nimble’ (P:1130-1131)] or its doublet *weik- [: Latin vinciō ‘bind, tie up; surround,’ Greek eíkō ‘yield, give ground’ (P:ibid.; MA:607)] (Lane, 1938:24, VW:572, and Jasanoff, 1978:40). Naturally, there is no way to exclude the possibility that the two PIE roots have fallen together in Tocharian. +See also possibly aikatte. +

+ + +
+

+Wikṣṇu +(n.) +‘Viṣṇu’
+[Wikṣṇu, -, -//] +Wikṣṇu nest [t]we poyśiññeṣṣe po yukṣeñcai ‘thou are the all-knowing Viṣṇu, conquering all’ (214b3/4). +∎From BHS Viṣṇu. +See also Viṣnu. +

+ + +
+

+wicūko +(n.) +‘cheek, jaw’
+[w(i)cuko, -, w(i)cukai//] +wc[u]ko kemeṃts witsako ‘the jaw [is] the root of the teeth’ (H-149.320b2), wicūkaine = BHS hanu (Y-2a3). +‣The variation of wicuko and wcuko suggests an underlying /wäcuko/. +∎Possibly from a PTch *wänśuko reflecting a PIE *wṇkewikōn- or the like. The latter would be a derivative of the u-stem seen in Sanskrit vankú- ‘crooked (?)’ or Armenian gangur ‘curling, curled, bent.’ Semantically similar is the history of German Wange ‘cheek’ from weng^h- ‘be bent’ (see P:1148-9, s.v. u̯e-n-g- and u̯e-n-g^h-; for the Tocharian etymology, see Adams, 1984a). Surely impossible is VW's suggestion (573) of wi ‘two’ + *cuko ‘morceau de graisse’ [: Lithuanian táukas ‘petit morceau de graisse’] which commends itself neither semantically nor phonologically. +

+ + +
+

+wīcuṣik +(n.) +‘cholera’
+[wīcuṣik, -, -//] +In a list of diseases: ST-b5. +∎From BHS (by metathesis) viṣūcikā-. A variant of viṣucik. +

+ + +
+

+wic ~ vij +(nnt.) +‘knowledge, magical skill’
+[wic, wicantse ~ vidyäntse, wic//-, -, wicanma] +toy vicanmasa sivenäṣe pile näsai[t yamaṣäle] ‘by these magical skills [for] a wound to the raphé a spell [is] to be cast’ (504a4). +∎From BHS vidyā-. +

+ + +
+

+wiñcaññe* +(adj.?) +‘± powerless’ (??)
+[m: -, -, wiñcaññe//] +sn[ai] parwā lestaimeṃ tsānkaṃ su kl[ā]y[aṃ] n[o] k[eṃ]tsa wiñcaññe śa[r]wa[r]ñ[e]sa tr[i]kṣä[ṃ] ‘[if] without feathers he rises from [his] nest, he will fall to earth; he is tricked by powerless [?] pride’ (282b1). +‣One could also see here an abstract noun similar in meaning to śarwarñe and used dyadically with it. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+wīna +(n.) +‘pleasure’
+[wīna, -, wīna//] +[re]kauna plātäṃne inkauṃ wīna kallaṃ kästwer ṣpanene ‘they will find pleasure in words and speeches [during] the day, at night in sleep’ (27a4), [eśanai]säña [lege: eśanaisäñ] win=aiṣṣeñca = BHS nayanā-bhirāmaḥ (524b5), [cmelne l]w[ā]ññe ainake ñäś yamṣamai wina iśelmeṃne ‘in common, animal birth I made pleasure for myself in sexual pleasures’ (588b5), wīna yāmoṣ = BHS ratāḥ (H-149-ADD.105a7 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32:488]), eśnaisäñ wīna ‘a pleasure to the eyes’ (K-7b2), palskontse wina ere = BHS manoramam bimba (U-1a4), ompalskoññe wina yāmoṣ = BHS sadā dhyānaratāḥ (U-2a2), wina = BHS ratiṃ (U-21b4). + -- wīnaṣṣe ‘prtng to pleasure’ (611a2). +∎TchB wīna is related to TchA wañi ‘id.’ The two are clearly derivatives of PIE *wenh_x- ‘wish for; like’ [: Sanskrit vánati ‘wishes for, likes; is triumphant,’ vanas- ‘love,’ vani- ‘desire, wish,’ Avestan vanaiti ‘is triumphant,’ Latin venus ‘love,’ Old English wine ‘friend,’ etc. (P:1147; MA:158)]. The TchA may reflect a PIE *wēn(h_x)iyo- (cf. Old Norse vǟnn ‘promising; beautiful’ or Gothic wēnjan ‘await, expect, hope’) while TchB wīna would be from *wṇh_x-eh_a- whose closest phonological congeners would be Gothic unuwands ‘desolated, unquiet,’ Old Norse una ‘be content,’ (< *wṇh_x-eh₁-) or Sanskrit vāmá- (< *wṇh_xmó-) ‘pleasant, agreeable; eager for’ (Sieg, Siegling and Schulze, 1931:4, VW:544, with differing details). +See also winā-ññ-, winamāññe, and possibly wināsk-. +

+ + +
+

+winayadhare* +(n.) +‘expert in (monastic) discipline’
+[-, winayadhari, -//] +(G-Su12). +∎From BHS vinayadhara- (Pinault, 1986: 143). +See also winasāre. +

+ + +
+

+winasāre +(nm.) +‘expert in (monastic) discipline’
+[winasāre, -, -//] +(H-149.X.5b4 [Couvreur, 954b:44]). +∎From a Middle Indic descendant of BHS vinayadharma- (Pinault, 1986:143). +See winayadhare*. +

+ + +
+

+winā-ññ- +(vt.) +‘enjoy’
+Ps. XII /winā-ññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, wināntar, -//-, -, wināññentär; Ger. winālle] +kwri war tākaṃ yolmene wināññenträ omp lwāsa laksäṃ warñai ‘if there is water in the pond, animals will enjoy fish, etc.’ (11b4). + -- winālñe* ‘enjoyment’: winālñene rentantso ‘in the enjoyment of good things’ (231a1); +
+winālñetstse ‘having pleasure, enjoyment’: pelkene winālñecci tākaṃ ‘there will be those having enjoyment in zeal’ (542b5). +∎A denominative verb from wīna, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+wīnāmāññe +(nm.) +‘± garden’ (< ‘pleasure-place’?)
+[winamāññe, -, -//winamāññi, -, winamāññeṃ] +tākaṃ kreñc wīnāmā[ññi] ‘there will be good gardens’ (275a4), ālyewce winamāññeṃ werpiśkaṃnne ‘in one another's pleasuring grounds and gardens’ (571b5). +∎A compound of wīna ‘pleasure’ and -maññe ‘(dwelling) place’. For the formation one should compare taupemaññe, yärkemaññe or wasaṃnpātmaññe. +

+ + +
+

+winā-sk- +(vt.) +‘honor, worship’
+Ps. IXa (= Ko.) /wināsk^'ä/_e-/ [A wināskau, wināst, wināṣṣäṃ//wināskem, -, wināskeṃ; MP winaskemar, -, -//; AImpf./Opt. -, -, wināṣṣi//-, -, wināṣyeṃ; Inf. winās(t)si; Ger. wināṣṣälle]; Pt. IV /wināṣṣā-/ [A -, -, wināṣṣa//-, -, wināṣṣar(e)]; PP /wewināṣṣu-/ +tañ pernerñe wināskau ‘I honor thy glory’ (204a1), śak pärkāwnta toṃ mäskenträ k_use pat wināṣṣäṃ ‘the ten benefits are [for him] who honors a stūpa’ (K-9a5), ṣek wināṣṣi cmelṣe ce_u samudtär totte ykuweṣo ‘one should always honor [him who has] gone completely [beyond] this sea of birth’ (30b4); tane wināsi kameṃ ‘then they came to honor’ (G-Su39); ṣañ śl=ālyenkäts kartse[ne] spelkkessu ṣek sū wināṣle ‘he [who is] zealous for good for his own and for others [is] to be worshiped/honored’ (30b5); katkomñaisa arañce pluṣā-ne ram w_ināṣṣa-me ‘his heart leapt, as it were, for joy and he worshiped them’ (375b4), takarṣkñesa wināṣṣar-ne wi eṣerñāna ‘out of faith the two besistered ones [i.e. the two sisters] honored him’ (107b6); bramñäkte warñai po śaiṣṣents[e] wewīnaṣṣoṣ ‘the brahma-god, etc., honored by the whole world’ (74b1). + -- wināṣṣälñe ‘homage, honor’: [winā]ṣṣälñe = BHS namas- (311a1), tumeṃ putantimeṃ waiptār aśarintaṃts paiyne wināṣṣälle ... eṃṣke nawanti täṅtsi ‘then [the candidate is] to honor the feet of the ācaryas separately from the most senior [position] to the newest [position]’ (KVāc-20a4 [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:760]); +
+wināṣṣälñeṣṣe ‘prtng to honor or homage’ (589a2). +∎TchA winās- and B wināsk- reflect PTch *wäināsk- with a rebuilt zero-grade (Adams, 1978). The latter is probably (as if) from PIE *wei(h_x)- ‘bend, twist’ (P:1120-3) with a -neh_a- present. One should compare particularly Pali pavīṇati ‘looks up to, respects, honors’ (Couvreur, 1947:64) or, without the laryngeal, Old Irish fen- (< *wi-nh_a-) in ar-fen- ‘seclude,’ im-fen ‘surround.’ The Tocharian words would have meant something like ‘bend down’ or ‘bend toward’ (semantically one might compare proskunéō in Greek, or, closer to home, TchB näm-). Also possible is to see in wināsk- as a denominative from wīna-, much as in Latin venerāre is a derivative of venus (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:148). Much less likely, it seems to me, is VW's suggestion (573) of a relationship with PIE *dwei- ‘fear.’ +See also possibly wīna and wināññ-. +

+ + +
+

+winai* +(n.) +‘rules of discipline for (Buddhist) monks’
+[-, -, winai//] +(288a3, G-Su12). +∎From BHS vinaya-. +

+ + +
+

+wip- +(vt.) +‘shake’
+Ps. IXb /wipäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, wīpäṣṣäṃ//; MPPart. wipäskemane] +akāśne maś mantä ksa wīpä[ṣṣäṃ] ‘in the sky no one ever shakes [his] fist’ (597a5); mā pokai wipäskemane osne yanmaṣle ‘one [is] not to enter a house shaking the arm’ (322a6), mā āścä wipäskemane osne yänmaṣṣälle ‘one [is] not to enter a house shaking the head’ (322b1). +∎In PTch terms we have a rebuilt zero-grade (see Adams, 1978) *wäip- from PIE *weip/b- ‘tremble, agitate’ [: Sanskrit vépati/vépate ‘trembles,’ Avestan vip- ‘throw, ejaculate,’ Gothic weipan ‘encircle,’ Latvian veibt ‘twist,’ etc. (P:1131-2; MA:607)] (Holthausen, 1955:208, VW:574). +See also waipe, waipalau, and possibly wipe. +

+ + +
+

+wipitāk +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[wipitāk, -, -//] +(501a4). +

+ + +
+

+wipe* +(adj.) +‘close’ (?), ‘even’ (?); ‘loose’ (?)
+[m: //wipi, -, - ] +kemi wipy ol[ypo] /// (121b2). +‣The Tocharian kemi wipi is possibly equivalent to either the lakṣana denominated samadanta ‘having even teeth’ or that called aviraladanta ‘having closely set teeth.’ Alternatively we might imagine ‘loose’ or the like. +∎If the latter meaning is correct, we might relate this word to wip- ‘shake,’ q.v. Semantically the development might be from ‘trembling’ to ‘loose (in their sockets).’ Otherwise the etymology is unknown. +

+ + +
+

+wimāṃ* +(nnt.) +‘(divine, movable) palace’
+[-, -, wimāṃ//wimā(nä)nta, -, -] +(231a2). +∎From BHS vimāna-. +

+ + +
+

+wimūkti +(n.[m.pl.]) +‘release from the bonds of existence’
+[wimukti, -, -//wimuktinta, -, -] +(185b3). +∎From BHS vimukti-. +

+ + +
+

+wimokṣ* +(n.) +‘final emancipation of the soul’
+[//wimokṣänta, -, -] +(199a3). + -- wimokṣäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the vimokṣa’ (554a1). +∎From BHS vimokṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+wiyār +See wyār. +

+ + +
+

+wīyūśke +‘?’
+G-Su4 (word division uncertain). +

+ + +
+

+wiralom +(n.) +‘a particular kind of fetid salt used medicinally’ (a medical ingredient)
+[wiralom, -, -//] +(Y-1a5). +∎From BHS viḍa-lavaṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+wirot +(n.) +‘incompatibility’
+[wirot, -, -//-, -, wirotänta] +ñake wirotänta weñau ‘I will speak now of incompatibilities’ (ST-a3), läkṣi malkwermpa wirot ‘fish with milk [is] an incompatibility’ (ST-a3). +∎From BHS virodha-. +

+ + +
+

+Wiryadewe +(n.) +‘Vīryadeva’ (PN in graffito)
+[Wiryadewe, -, -//] +(G-Su32). +

+ + +
+

+Wiryamitre +(n.) +‘Vīryamitra’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Wiryamitre, -, -//] +(DAM.507a13 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +

+ + +
+

+Wiryaśānti +(n.) +‘Vīryaśānti’ (PN)
+[Wiryaśānti, -, -//] +(Otani 19.1.1 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+Wilyāsiñi* +(n.) +‘Wilyāsiñi’ (PN of monastic official)
+[-, Wilyāsiñintse, -//] +(460a5). +

+ + +
+

+wilyu* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, wilyu//] +späntai wilyuśc akalkä snai ankānmi (241a5). +‣For a discussion of this passage, see s.v. ankānmi. +

+ + +
+

+Wiśikke +(n.) +‘Wiśikke’ (PN in a caravan pass)
+[Wiśikke, -, -//] +(LP-21a2). +

+ + +
+

+wiṣai* +(n.) +‘range of the senses; object of the senses’
+[-, -, wiṣai//-, wiṣaintaṃts, wiṣainta] +(A-2b6). +∎From BHS viṣaya-. +

+ + +
+

+wisumantä +‘?’ (a medical ingredient)
+[wisumantä, -, -//] (W-15a6). +

+ + +
+

+wismai +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘astonished’
+jaṭilñi ṣamāñi wismai klautkāre ‘the braided monks were astonished’ (108b8), wismai klautkasta brāhmaññai wertsyai ‘thou hast astounded the company of brahmans’ (TEB-58-23). +∎From BHS vismaya-. +

+ + +
+

+witsako +(nf.) +‘root’
+[witsako, -, witsakai//-, witsakaṃts, witsakaṃ] +war yokaiṣṣe witskaṃ waiwäṣṣäṃ-ne ‘the water of thirst moistens the roots [of the tree of saṃsāra]’ (11b3), okonta wi[tsakaṃ] = BHS phalamūlāni (363a7), saryat=ompä poyśintse asāṃ spe kenne witskaṃ ‘he planted the roots in the ground near the Buddha's seat’ (388a2), wc[u]ko kemeṃts witsako ‘the jaw [is] the root of the teeth’ (H-149.320b2), eṃṣketse witskai wikṣälñe tuntse weskau ‘I speak of its remission, even to the root’ (K-3b2), uppāläṣṣana witsakaṃmpa kärkoṣ śātrempa ‘with lotus roots and germinated grain’ (ST-a4). + -- witsakāṣṣe* ‘prtng to a root’ (530a2); +
+witsakaṃṣṣe ‘prtng to roots’ (Y-1a5). +∎Possibly with VW (644) a borrowing from an Iranian *vityaka- or *vaityaka- ‘root,’ similar to but not identical to *vaiti- seen in Avestan vaēti-, Modern Persian bēd or *vaitāka- seen in Ossetic uedāgä, though the lack of any exact Iranian parallels is disturbing. If one could countenance the irregular loss of an *-r- from a preform *wärtsäkā-, it would be possible to derive the Tocharian word from the widespread IE *wṛ(h_a)d- ‘root’ (e.g. from a PIE *wṛ(h_a)dikeh_a- (P:1167; MA:80). +

+ + +
+

+we +‘?’
+piś-cmelaṣṣeṃs pernesa mā we wīna kälpāṣṣit (231a2). +

+ + +
+

+we- +(vt.) +‘speak, say, tell’; [M-P] ‘be called’ [wrattsai we- ‘answer’]
+Ps. IXa /wesk^'ä/_e-/ [A weskau, west, weṣṣäṃ/-, -, westeṃ/weskem, weścer, weskeṃ; AImpf. weṣṣim, -, weṣṣi//-, -, weṣyeṃ; MP weskemar, -, westär//-, -, weskentär; APart. weṣṣeñca (see below); MPPart. weskemane ‘saying, telling’; Ger weṣṣälle]; Ko. VII /weñ^'ä/_e-/ [A weñau, went, weṃ//weñem, weñcer, weñeṃ; AOpt. weñim, -, weñi//; Inf. wentsi; Ger. welle]; Ipv. VI /poñ-/ [ASg. poñ; APl. pontso]; Pt. V /weñā-/ [A weñāwa ~ wñāwa, weñāsta ~ wñāsta, weña (weñā-ne ~ wñā-ne)//weñām, wñās, weñār(e) ~ wñāre]; PP /weweñu-/ +nāyake weṣṣäṃ mā tnek ka ka ñäś weñāwa ‘the [dramatic] hero speaks: not alone have I spoken here’ (PK-12E-a4 [Thomas, 1979:19]), weṣṣäṃ = BHS vadati (H-149.331b4 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32: 495]), weṣṣäṃ = BHS bhāṣate (U-21a2), ka mā weścer krent [reki] ‘why do you not say a good word?’ (20b6), t_usa mā wesk[e]m codake weṣṣäṃ ‘thus we don't speak, the accuser speaks’ (197a2); /// wrattsai weṣṣi ‘he answered’ (28b5), ysaparsa yey āśirvāt weṣṣi ‘he went close and said a blessing’ (107a3); somo-a[i]ñyai somo ytārye westär ‘why is it alone called the one-way road?’ (29b1), westrä = BHS gīyase (H-ADD.149.80b3 [Couvreur, 1966:179]); se ṣemāne prātimokṣä-sūtär weskemane maṃt weṣṣäṃ ‘the monk, saying the prātimokṣa-sutra, says thus’ (TEB-65-5); ṣe vij weṣle ‘one spell [is] to be said’ (M-3a5); lareṃ weṃ [n]o [m]ā eñcareṃ empreṃ weṃ no mā [waike weṃ] ‘[if] one speaks a friendly [word], not an unfriendly one, [if] one speaks the truth and doesn't tell a lie’ (20a8), weñem = BHS vakṣyāma (189b4); sū no weṃtsi epastye ṣey ‘he was, however, able to speak’ (PK-AS-18B-a1 [Pinault, 1984b:377]); ṣañ śaul samp ri[ntär mā yolo] welle se wnolme ‘his own life he will give up, an evil word will not [be] spoken [by] this creature’ (20b8); weṣän-neścä ṣarya ammakki poññ āppai ‘he says to her: dear mother, tell father’ (85a2), poñes (108a5); parkän-me te ot pontso yes cenäśco ‘[if] they ask you, then say this to them’ (7a2); wertsiyaine orotsai wat weña ṣkas toṃ ślokanma ‘or in the great company he said these six strophes’ (A-1b1/2), prekṣallene wayāre-ne prekṣentäṃ weñāre ‘they led him to the interrogation and the judges spoke’ (H-149-ADD.12b1 [Thomas, 1967:26]); kreñc tne weweñoṣ k_use stmoṣ śīln=āstreṃ ‘good here [are they] called who stand in pure moral behavior’ (15a6=17a7), krentäntso soylñe weweñu ‘uttering the satisfaction of the good’ (33a2/3), mahākarunmeṃ vinai weweñu ‘having enunciated the discipline out of [his] great mercy’ (288a3). + -- weweñormeṃ; +
+weṣṣeñca ‘speaking, a speaker’: [a]tākatte ... weṣṣeñca = BHS abhūtavādat (16a4), kärtse-weṣṣeñcantse = BHS hitavaktus (251a4), [mā alyek] watkäskau śīre weṃtsi mā śire weṣeñcaimpa=ṣe ‘I don't order another to speak harshly [nor to be] with a harsh speaker’ (596a3); +
+weṣṣeñcatstse ‘speaker’: tumeṃ karmapāyä weṣeñcatse tonak rekauna yentukäñe pele weṣäle ‘then the karmavācanā-speaker [is] to speak the Indian law [in] these words’ (KVāc [K. T. Schmidt, 1985:764]); +
+welñe ‘speech, talk, speaking, saying’: nāki= welñe preresa ce_u aunaṣṣän-me arañcne ‘with this arrow of blame-speaking he wounds them in the heart’ (17b1), welñe = BHS bhāṣitam (20a3), ścīre welñe ‘harsh speech’ (68b5), pañäktentse welyñesa ‘by the saying of the Buddha’ (95a5), olyapotstse welñe = BHS adhivacana (170a6), welñe = BHS pralāpa- (Y-3a2); +
+welñeṣṣe* ‘prtng to speech’: (A-3b1); +
+weweñor ‘declaration’: mant weweñor ste poyśintse ‘such is the declaration of the Buddha’ (K-2a3). +∎TchA weñ- and B weñ- reflect PTch *weñ- (with PTch *-e- preserved in A before a nasal in an initial syllable as in eṃts- [cf. B enk-] and en- [B id.]) but further connections are not as clear as they might be. Possibly (so VW:568-70, much modified) from PIE *wend- ‘speak (solemnly)’ (related to the more common *wed- ‘speak’) found otherwise only in Indo-Iranian [: Sanskrit vándate ‘praise’] and, crucially for this hypothesis, in Tocharian wäntare ‘thing’ (as if) from PIE *wṇdṛwó- [: Sanskrit vandāru- ‘praising, praise’ (< *we/ondoru-) or Avestan dužvandru- ‘blaspheming’]. A PIE *wonde- (present and/or subjunctive) would regularly have given PTch *weni̯ä-. A PIE *wond-ye/o- should have given *weññ^'ä/_e-. We must assume that the *wente- we would expect from *wondo- was replaced by analogical weni̯e- much as, in attested TchB, śāwe- from *ǵyeh₃wo- was being replaced by analogical śāye- on the model of śāyä- from *ǵyeh₃we-. The present stem is then from *wond-sḱe/o- or later from *weñ-sk^'ä/_e- (which was either never present in TchA or replaced by tränk- [cf. B trenk-] because of homophony with *wens- ‘defecate’ [Winter, 1977:152]). Alternatively we might see here a reflex of PIE wek^w- [: Sanskrit vákti, vívakti ‘speaks, tells, says,’ Avestand vak- ‘id.,’ Greek eîpon ‘spoke’ (< *we-wp-om), Old Prussian wackītwei ‘entice, coax,’ OHG giwahanen/ giwahinen (< *giwahnjan) ‘mention,’ Latin vōx ‘sound, voice,’ Sanskrit vāk ‘id.,’ etc. (P:1135-6; MA:534-535)] (Meillet, 1911-12:285, Lane, 1938:29, 33, Pedersen, 1941:249, and Winter, 1977, much modified). The present might be from *wok^wsḱe/o- or later *weñ-sk^'ä/_e- (so Winter). The weñ- would be a late denominative *wokn-ye/o- (cf. Sanskrit vacaná- ‘speaking’ or pre-OHG *-wahnjan) like śeri- ‘hunt’ from *g^whērw-ye/o- (cf. śerwe ‘hunter’). The difficulty here is the drastic cluster reduction *-kny- to -ñ- that must be assumed. (Notice that we cannot have *wek- + the common denominative suffix -äññ-. The latter suffix is of Indo-European date [cf. Greek -aínō], was syllabic in Indo-European times [*-ṇye/o-], in attested TchB [-äññ-] and A [-iñ-] and at all times in between. *wekäññ- would never have become weñ-.) The strength of this hypothesis is the presence of wek ‘sound, voice’ and weśeñña ‘id.’ which attest the presence of PIE *wok^w- in Tocharian. Particularly strong is the evidence of weśeñña since other nouns in -eñña are deverbative, cf. wṣeñña ‘place’ and ścomoñña ‘id.,’ the latter with secondary rounding of the -e-. +See also weñmo, weñenta, and weṣṣuki and possibly wäntare or wek and weśeñña. +

+ + +
+

+weṃṣiye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘excrement’
+[weṃṣiye, -, weṃṣiye//] +weṃts weṣṣiye ankaiṃ y[āmor] śuwaṃ prete[nne] ‘among the pretas they eat excrement, filth, and vomit’ (522a3), swāññe weṃṣiye kränkañe weṃṣye kuñiye weṃṣṣiye ‘pork excrement, chicken excrement, dog excrement’ (P-1b3). + -- weṃṣiyetstse ‘having excrement’: weṃṣyetsai ... kotaisa ‘by a sewer’ (31a3). +∎A derivative of weṃts, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+weṃts +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘excrement, dung’
+[weṃts, -, weṃts//] +sālesa kewiye wentsa pepakṣu ‘earth with cow dung [is] to be cooked’ (497b3/4), weṃts weṣṣiye ankaiṃ y[āmor] śuwaṃ prete[nne] ‘among the pretas they eat excrement, filth, and vomit’ (522a3). +‣For the meaning one should compare TchA (150b6) ṣom āsu-wesis wcaṃ lyī-wesis ‘the one [opening] for dry excrement, the second for wet excrement’ (Winter, 1977:152). +∎TchA wes and B weṃts reflect PTch *wen(ä)s but extra-Tocharian connections are doubtful. VW (Čop, Slavistčna Revija 1970:103-104 aapuda VW:570) suggests a connection with Latin vē(n)sica ‘(urinary) bladder’ or Sanskrit vastí- ‘urinary bladder’ which is attractive but has phonological difficulties (I would expect *-ns- to reduce to -s-, cf. mīsa or the pronoun -me) as well as semantic ones (i.e. the Tocharian words mean ‘excrement’ in general and not just ‘urine’). +See also weṃṣiye. +

+ + +
+

+wek +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘voice, noise’ [wek tärk- = ‘cry out’]
+[wek, -, wek//] +cīmeṃ tsreläññesa wek tarkanoym ‘because of separation from thee I cried out’ (78a4), wñā-neś cäñcareṃ brahmasvarsa weksa ‘he spoke to him with a friendly brahmasvara-voice’ (384b3), cpi klene_u wek täṅwäññe ‘his lovely, resounding voice’ (Kucha 0187-b4 [Couvreur, 1954c:82]). + -- wektse ‘loud’: wek[ts]e päccapa piś toṃ ślokanma pudñäkt[entse] ‘loudly recite these five ślokas of the Buddha’ (16a3). +∎TchA wak and B wek reflect PTch *wek from PIE *wōk^w/wok^w- [: Sanskrit vāk, Avestan vāxš (gen. vačo), Latin vōx, Greek (acc. sg.) ópa (P:1135-6; MA:623)] (Meillet, 1911-1912: 285, Pedersen, 1941:254, VW:541). Tocharian has generalized the non-lengthened grade. +See also weśeñña and possibly we-. +

+ + +
+

+weñe +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[weñe, -, -//] +W-5a5. +

+ + +
+

+weñenta +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘speaker, intercessor’
+[weñenta, -, -//-, weñentaṃts, weñentaṃ] +weñentänne posa śpālmeṃ walo rṣākeṃts ‘the king of seers, best among intercessors’ (K-3b1), śak no weña pärkāwnta pudñäkte śpālmeṃ weñenta ‘however, the Buddha, the best speaker, spoke of the ten benefits’ (K-9a2). +∎A derivative, based on the subjunctive stem, of we-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+weñmo* +(n.) +‘advocate’
+[(voc. weñmo)//] +weñmo ptāka-ñ onolmeṃts tarko-ñ tranko ‘be my advocate with creatures; may they release my sin!’ (TEB-64-03). +∎A derivative (from the subjunctive stem) of we-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+weta* +(nf.) +‘struggle, battle’
+[-, -, weta//] +wetane yaṃ snai yepe ‘he goes into battle without a weapon’ (127b5), kleśanmaṣṣai wetane ‘in the struggle with the kleśas’ (277a3). +∎A derivative of wät-, q.v. Identical in meaning but different in formation is TchA wac. Weta shows its relative recency in TchB by the lack of ā-umlaut. +See also wetā_u. +

+ + +
+

+wetā_u +(nm.) +‘warrior’
+[wetā_u, wetānte, -//wetāñc, -, wetāntäṃ] +/// kausa-ñ śrānäṃ wetāntäṃ ‘he killed my old warriors’ (22a1), wetānte (21b5), śrāy wetāñco etri /// ‘old warriors and heroes’ (47a8). +∎A derivative of weta, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+wetene ~ weteni ~ weteñi +(n.) +‘fenugrec’
+[wetene, -, -//] +panitäṣṣe ṣpel ṣe prayok ~ wetene se wate ‘a molasses-pill is one means; fenugrec [is] another’ (FS-b1). +∎From BHS vedhinī-. +

+ + +
+

+wetke +(adv.) +‘± away’
+wāya ci lauke tsyāra ñiś wetke lykautka-ñ [lege: klyautka-ñ] pāke po läklentas ciṣe tsārwo sampā[te-ñ] ‘he led thee away and separated me [from thee]; he made me share all sufferings and he took away from me the joy of thee’ (496a6/7). +∎Presumably the accusative singular of a noun *wetke used adverbially. In any case it is a derivative of wätk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+wene +See ñäś. +

+ + +
+

+wente* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± covering’
+[-, -, wente//] +kete āñme tākaṃ śwātsi yoktsi källātsi erkenmameṃ śerk pralle cewä śerkwameṃ wente yamaṣle cew wentesa ñuwe kuntiśke taṣale ‘whoever has the wish to get food and drink, he [is] to fetch a string from the cemetery and from that string he [is] to make a covering [?] and [is] to set that covering over a new pot’ (M-3b2). +∎If properly identified as to meaning (see Sieg, 1954:82), then we have here a derivative of wänt-, q.v. (As if) from PIE *wond^ho-. +

+ + +
+

+wepe* +(n.) +‘± corral, paddock’
+[//-, -, wepeṃ] +[ṣa]ñ k[e]wän śakātaisa kalṣtär-me ṣñār wepeṃś aśan-me ‘he prods his cattle with a stick and leads them each to its own corral’ [wepe = BHS gocara-] (3a3). +∎A derivative of *wäp- which underlies wāp-, q.v. (As if) from PIE *wob^ho-. +

+ + +
+

+Wemacitre +(n.) +‘Vemacitra’ (PN of a prince of the asuras)
+[Wemacitre, -, Wemacitreṃ//] +(TEB-58-21). +See also ²Vemacitre. +

+ + +
+

+weyaṃ +‘?’
+tu yāmormeṃ weyaṃ ṣukt kontsa te tättārmeṃ watstsa särwāna sonopälle ‘having done this and having placed it weyaṃ [for] seven days, one [is] to rub the face with the wat’ (W-40b1). +

+ + +
+

+wer* +(n.) +‘hate, hatred’
+[-, -, wer//] +wer ścon=arṣāklaine ‘hate and enmity toward the snake’ (42a5), wer śconai tarkatsi ‘to release hatred and enmity’ (42a7), [Araṇe]m[iṃ] lānte maiyyācce wer epiyac /// ‘remembering a powerful hatred toward king A.’ (90b2). +∎From a Prakrit descendant of Sanskrit vaira- ‘hostility.’ Very likely the Prakrit in question is that of Kroraina where we find vera- ‘hatred’ (VW:643). +See also werässe. +

+ + +
+

+werässe +(adj.) +‘± hateful’
+[m: werässe, -, -//] +(258b3). +∎A derivative of wer, q.v. For the formation, see Winter, 1979. +

+ + +
+

+weru +(n.) +‘± blister’
+[weru, -, -//] +/// tako_i śle pälsko pälyca-pälyc ra weru ramt (295a6), wer[u] yetsene ‘blister on the skin’ (497b1). +∎Etymology unclear. Possibly this word reflects PIE *wor-wen- ‘water having’ (so VW:570, with differing details), or *wodṛ-wen- ‘id.’ (better if, as I think, we/o(h₁)r- ‘water’ is not attested in Tocharian while *wodṛ is; see war), or, as *wórwom perhaps, to be connected with yoro, q.v. Hilmarsson (1991:191) takes it to be from *wodr-uwṇt-. +See also yweru. +

+ + +
+

+were +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘smell’
+[were, -, were//] +erene kartstsa werene kartstsa śukene kartstsa ‘beautiful in form, beautiful in smell, beautiful in taste’ (107a4), were śawāñca = BHS gandharva- (176b5), [mäkte kroṅśe] pyapyaimeṃ ere were mā mī[yäṣṣäṃ] [were = BHS gandha-] (300a2), astre-were = BHS śucigandhi- (300b2), kärtse-were = BHS sugandhi- (308b6). + -- -weretsaññe ‘property of having a smell’: yolo-weretsaṃññe = BHS daurgandhya- (Y-3a2). +∎A derivative of wär-(sk-), q.v. Compare TchA war ‘id.’ (As if) from PIE *wóro-. +

+ + +
+

+werke +(n.) +‘chase, hunt, hunting’
+(K-T). +∎TchA wark (A-61a3: mā śkaṃ wark ypam mā kosam ‘also I do not hunt [lit. make a hunt] nor do I kill’) and B werke reflect PTch *werke (as if) from a PIE *worKo-. This *worKo- is probably a new full-grade form based on the zero-grade *wṛg- (perhaps to be seen in Latin urgēre ‘push, urge’) to a root *wreg- otherwise seen only in Germanic [: Gothic wrikan ‘follow, pursue,’ Old Norse reka ‘push, chase; punish,’ Old English wrecan ‘push, impel; drive out; punish’ (MA:284)] (VW: 545, with details modified). Alternatively it may be that Bailey (1985:100) is right in assuming a PIE *werḱ- or *werǵ- ‘desire’ seen otherwise in Khotanese orsa- ‘desire’ (< *āw(o)rsa-) and Ossetic wārzun ‘to love.’ For the semantics he compares Latin venātor ‘hunter’ and its relationship to venus. +

+ + +
+

+werpiśkatstse +(n.) +‘gardener’
+[werpiśkatstse, -, werpiśkacce//] +A[ra]ṇemi werpiśkatse /// (91a3). +∎A derivative of werpiśke, q.v., literally ‘garden having.’ +

+ + +
+

+werpiśke* +(nm.) +‘garden’
+[-, -, werpiśke//-, -, werpiśkaṃ] +/// pyapyaicceṃ werpiśkaṃ ‘flower gardens’ (179a4), werpiśken[e] pyapyaiṃ pässakäntasa y[aitoṣ] ‘in the garden decorated with flowers and garlands’ (589a2). + -- werpiśkaṣṣe ‘prtng to a garden’ (589a4). +∎A diminutive of werwiye*. +

+ + +
+

+werwiye* +(n.) +‘garden’
+[-, -, werwiye//] +werwiyesa Kweṃtokomeṃ pautkeṣe[ṃ] cāneṃ kälwāwa wilse ‘for the garden, from K. I received the cānes of contribution, two thousand’ (Maralbashi-4a6 [Pinault, 1987:86]). +∎A variant of the expected *werpiye, originally meaning ‘enclosure’ and a derivative of wārp- ‘surround,’ q.v. The PTch *werp- of this form presupposes the presence of the underlying verb in the shape *wärp-, as still in TchA, rather than the generalized wārp- of TchB. +See also wārp- and werpiśkatstse, werpiśke*. +

+ + +
+

+wertsiya +(nf.) +‘assembly, council, meeting, retinue, company’
+[wertsiya, wertsiyaintse ~ wertsiyantse, wertsiyai//-, -, wertsiyaṃ] +tumeṃ weña pūdñäkte sankaṣṣai tā_u wertsyaine ‘the Buddha spoke then amongst the monastic community’ (5b7), śtwāra wertsyaṃ ‘the four assemblies’ [i.e. monks, nuns, laymen, laywomen] (12a8), wertsiyaimeṃ pränketrä ‘he was excluded from the assembly’ (14a2), walo Kausalṣe eṣe wertsyaimpa ś[em] ‘the king of Kausala came with [his] retinue’ (18b7), yayātau wertsiyai yaṃ = BHS dānto vai samitiṃ yānti [lege: yāti] (306a3). + -- wertsyaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a company, assembly, retinue, etc.’ (TEB-58-20). +∎TchA wartsi and B wertsiya reflect PTch *wertsiya. Probably the latter is (as if) from PIE *word^hyeh_a- ‘mass, multitude,’ a derivative of *werd^h- ‘grow, increase’ [: Sanskrit várdhati ‘grows,’ Avestan varəd- ‘make grow,’ Albanian rit ‘grow, make large,’ Greek orthós ‘straight, true’ OCS roditi ‘parere,’ etc. (P:1167; MA:249)] (VW, 1970a:170, 1976:547). +See also wrāt-. +

+ + +
+

+welki +(n.) +a part of a plant?
+[welke, -, -//] +pyapyantse welki (W-32b2). +∎Perhaps one should compare Sanskrit valká- ‘bast, bast fibre,’ Avestan varka- ‘leaf,’ or Sanskrit válśa- ‘shoot, twig.’ +

+ + +
+

+welwa +‘?’
+/// [e]pinkte welwa ̇i/// (328a5). +

+ + +
+

+weweñor +See we-. +

+ + +
+

+weśeñña +(nf.) +‘voice, sound’
+[weśeñña ~ weśeñño, -, weśeññai//] +orottsa kwasalñeṣṣa weśeñña klyauṣāte ‘the great voice of lamentation was heard’ (85b5), snai weśeññai = BHS aśabda (193a7), yäkte-weśeññai o[sn]e [yänmaṣṣälle] ‘with lowered voiced one [is] to enter into a house’ (321a4), krokśäṃts weśeñña ‘the sound of bees’ (571b4), weśeñ[ai]sa āśtär = BHS ghoṣeṇa nīyate (PK-NS-230b1 [Pinault, 1991]). + -- weśaññaiṣṣe* ‘prtng to voice or sound’: we[śeññaiṣṣe dhātu] = BHS śabdadhātu- (155a4). +∎A derivative of wek or possibly we-. +

+ + +
+

+weṣ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘guise, appearance’
+[-, -, weṣ//-, -, weṣanma] +tane Ylaiñakte yakṣaṃñe weṣ memī[sku] ‘then Indra, disguised as a yakṣa’ (99a5). +∎From BHS veṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+weṣperke* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, weṣperke//] +lyakäṃ kr[au]pträ | wi-pewaṃ | śtwer-pewaṃ | makā-pewaṃ | klepe mällasträ | weṣperke ṣparkäṣṣäṃ | lyakäṃ sompasträ ‘thieves he gathers; the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, the many-footed; he suppresses theft, he removes weṣperke; he takes the thieves unto himself’ (H-149. ADD.8b3 [H:149-150]). +

+ + +
+

+weṣṣuki +(n.) +‘talker’
+[weṣṣuki, -, -//] +(H-149.167 [K]). +∎An agent noun derived from the present stem of we-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+wes +See ñäś. +

+ + +
+

+weswe* +(n.) +‘± trace’
+[-, -, weswe//] +///[Brahma]datti lānte weswe postanmeṃ mā ṣp śarsa bodhi[satve] ‘and afterward the bodhisatva didn't recognize/find [any] trace of King B.’ (358a4). +∎A derivative of wäs-² ‘abide, dwell’ (i.e. ‘trace’ < *‘that which abides’). +

+ + +
+

+wai +(conj.) +‘and’
+[conjoins only nouns] +sak [w]ai lakle warpalñenta ‘enjoyments of good fortune and suffering’ (197a2), nakule wai sarppe ‘mongoose and snake’ (512b3), Dharmawarne wai Gunacaṃndre Āśtāwiṃtse nanāṃte ‘D. and G. are presented to Ā.’ (G-Su3). +∎Etymology unclear. Perhaps the PIE conjunction *wē (see wa) + the particle *e (as wat is *wē + tu). So Couvreur, 1950:130 (with differing details). Surely unlikely is VW's suggestion (540) of a connection with the etymon of ‘two.’ +

+ + +
+

+waikärnesā +‘?’
+///neśc waikärnesā /// (395.1b6). +‣Perhaps a misprint or miswriting of waikärñesā, the perlative of an abstract noun *waikärñe ‘lying.’ +See waike. +

+ + +
+

+waikiññe* +(adj.) +‘false’ (?)
+[m: //-, -, waikiññeṃ] +caṇḍāli waikiññeṃ penke[ṃ]mpa tasemane mcuṣkantaṃts ckāckane ‘comparing the legs of the princes with the waikiññeṃ penke[ṃ] of the untouchables’ (589b5). +∎A derivative of waike? +

+ + +
+

+waike +(n.) +‘lie’ [waike we- = ‘lie, tell a lie’]
+[waike, -, waike//] +w[ai]ke empreṃ ‘lie or truth’ (16a3), ṣe ... waike tne weṣṣäṃ wate yāmṣäṃ yolaiṃ yāmo[r] ‘the first tells a lie, the second does an evil deed’ (16b6=18a3), waike = BHS asatya- (20b2), waike waṣe ṣpä käskor wat wentsi ‘to tell lies or relate gossip’ (31b4=32a6). + -- waikeṣṣe* ‘prtng to a lie’ (133b1); +
+waike-reki ‘lying word, lie’: waiyke-reki mantanta läññi-ñ koynmeṃ ‘may never a lying word emerge from my mouth’ (S-3a6). +∎TchA wek- ‘to lie’ must be a denominative (i.e. *weik-ā-) of the PTch *weike that is the direct ancestor of B waike. The best extra-Tocharian connection is that provided by Schneider (1939:253) with Old Norse svíkva/svíkja ‘deceive, betray,’ svik (pl. tant.) ‘betrayal, fraud,’ Old English swīc(i)an ‘betray; wander off; offend’ and swic (nt.) ‘deceit, treachery; illusion.’ The Germanic and Tocharian words would represent a PIE *(s)weig- (MA:154). Less likely is VW's connection (568) with the etymon for ‘two.’ The best formal parallel for the latter comparison would be Russian dvójka ‘pair.’ +See also waikesse and possibly waikiññe and waikärnesā. +

+ + +
+

+waikesse +(adj.) +‘lying’
+[m: waikesse, -, -//] +pälsko waikesse ‘a lying spirit’ (117a6). +∎A derivative of waike, q.v. For the formation, see Winter, 1979. +

+ + +
+

+waipalau +(n.) +‘giddiness, vertigo’
+[waipalau, -, -//] +waipalau yāmu = BHS bhrāmika (529a2), waiwalau = BHS bhrama- (Y-3a2). +∎A derivative of wip- ‘shake,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+waipe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘banner’
+[-, -, waipe//] +kāmadhāttuṣṣai yoñyaṃ kaut[a]n[aṃ] morñiktantse [sic] mīnadhvaje waipe räskre naittäṣṣäṃ ‘he cuts off the way of sensual pleasure; he roughly tears the fish-emblazoned banner of Māra’ (591a1), mahākaruṃṣe waipe peñyacce peṣpiṃtu ‘zu dem prächtigen Banner des grossen mitleids Vertrauen bewirkend’ (TEB-58-18). +∎A derivative of wip-, q.v. (As if) from PIE *woib/po- (cf. Couvreur, 1947:10). +

+ + +
+

+waipecce* +(nf.) +‘possession(s)’ [singular used both as a collective and as a count noun]
+[-, waipeccentse, waipecce//waipeccenta, waipeccentaṃts, waipeccenta] +pālalñe=lanmeṃ waipeccentaṃts källālñe [waipeccentaṃts källālñe = BHS vittalābhin-] ‘being praised by others and the achievement of possessions’ (14a6), waipeccenta śaiṣṣeṣṣana ‘worldly possessions’ (24b7), makte ksa rintär waipecc=ekñenta ‘[if] one by himself should renounce possessions and belongings’ (33a5). + -- waipecceṣṣe ‘prtng to possessions’ (337a2); +
+waipeccetstse* ‘having possessions’ (64a3). +∎Etymology uncertain. Winter (1971:218) suggests an Iranian origin, pointing to Avestan h^vaēpaiþya- Old Persian uvaipašiya- ‘belonging to self, own.’ As VW points out (643), it is surprising that a Proto-Iranian *-ai- should show up as -ai- in a Tocharian borrowing from some form of Middle Iranian (Winter's own proposed source is Bactrian) but K. T. Schmidt (1985) suggests, on the contrary, that the preservation of the diphthong indicates an earlier borrowing, one from Old Iranian (see also waipte). In any case this etymology seems much better on semantic grounds than VW's own suggestion of a borrowing from Pali ve(y)yāvacca ‘duty, work, service, commission.’ +

+ + +
+

+waiptāyar +(adv.) +‘separately, scattered’
+w[aip]tā[ya]rä = BHS vi- (11a4), [waiptā]yar ykūsa = BHS visṛtā (11a5), lkāṣyeṃ rupne ślek waiptāyar ṣamāneṃ ‘they saw only the Buddha in [his] form, likewise scattered monks’ (17a4). +∎A derivative, the morphology of which is a little obscure (see K. T. Schmidt, 1985:760, and Winter, 1987), of waipte, q.v. +See also waiptār and waipte. +

+ + +
+

+waiptār +(adv.) +‘separately, apart, scattered;’ ([indeclinable] adj.) ‘separate’
+ṣem kautāte kalentse waiptār pwenta käskānte ‘the axle broke; the spokes of the wagon were scattered all over’ (5a2), [kwri no] cwi palsko käskāträ waiptār ‘if however his spirit is strewn about’ (9b8=10a4), ṣeṃ waiptār ypaunane ‘they were in separate countries’ (28b7), waiptār wloṣäṃ letseṃme ‘in [my] disheveled [lit: scattered and curled] locks’ (89a2), waiptār yäneṃ ‘they go separately’ (142a2), [ā]l[y]auce waiptār nessi añmañenträ ‘they longed to be apart from one another’ (193b8), waiptār päkṣalle = BHS pratyekasiddham (Y-2b1). + -- waiptār-waiptār ‘id.’: waiptār-waiptār kektseñäṣṣana pakenta yaskemtär-nemeṃ ‘let's ask from him [his] body parts piece by piece’ (AMB-a6). +∎A derivative of waipte, q.v. +See also waiptayār. +

+ + +
+

+waipte +(adv.) +‘separately, apart, scattered’
+waipte r[ano] = BHS vināpi (308a6), tanāpate inte śaulu-wärñai wätkāltse kakākau tākaṃ nano nano tanāpate kākatär-ne ... waiptesa wat śauśtär-ne ‘if the benefactor should invite [a monk] decisively for a life-long [stay] and [if] the benefactor should invite him again and again or [if] he calls him separately [i.e. by himself]’ (331a3/4), mäkte wassi swarenäṃ werempa tattaṃ ksa walke waipte kartse werenmeṃ sū wassi ykāk swāre warṣṣäṃ ‘as clothing is placed with an agreeable odor, longtime separated from that agreeable odor, this clothing still smells good’ (A-2b3/4). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (540-1) suggests a connection with Old English getwǟfan ‘cut, separate,’ ultimately related to the words for ‘two.’ K. T. Schmidt (1985:760-2) suggests a borrowing from an early Iranian *hwai-ptay or *hwai-ptayai, the dative with syncope of *hwai-pati- ‘for oneself’ (see also waipecce). +

+ + +
+

+waimene +([indeclinable?] adj.) +‘difficult’
+/// yāmṣi waimene kaltsi tne śāsanne ṣamāññe ‘difficult to bear here is the monastic law’ (44a6), /// yūkalñe cpi waimene ... waimene säk källātsi ‘conquest [is] difficult for him ... [it is] diffcilt to achieve good fortune’ (127b4), waime[n]e = BHS dur- (H-149.315b1 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32: 491]), olyapotstse waimene = BHS sudurharam (H-149.315b1 [Thomas, 1968a:203]). +‣Essentially identical in meaning with amāskai, q.v. + -- waimenetstse ‘painful, difficult’ [ = BHS kasira-] (3b6), snaicepi waimenetse śaul śaitsi ‘for a poor [person] it [is] difficult to live life’ (127b7). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (643) suggests a borrowing from a Sanskrit *vaimanas- ‘tired, discouraged’ beside (attested) vaimanasya- ‘tiredness, sadness, discouragement, difficulty,’ itself a derivative of vimanas- ‘perplexed, discouraged.’ The equation is semantically attractive but the putative Sanskrit morphology would be unparalleled and, in any case, as Isebaert (1977:137-8) points out, we would expect *waimāṃ from such a source. Isebaert suggests that we have the frozen locative of an inherited noun *waime ‘± difficulty.’ This *waime would reflect a PIE *dwoi-mo-, a derivative of the word for ‘two.’ Morphologically close would be Greek Deîmos ‘(the god of) Fear.’ The difficulty with this proposal is the lack of parallels in TchB of a frozen prepositional phrase coming to be used as an adjective (for adverbs there are several examples). Also speculative is K. T. Schmidt's suggestion (1985:762) of a borrowing from an Old Iranian *hwai-manah- ‘wer oder was seinen eigenen Sinn hat’ and a semantic development of ‘self-willed’ to ‘difficult.’ +See also waiw-. +

+ + +
+

+waiw- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be moist, wet,’ K ‘moisten, make wet’
+G Ps. V /waiwā-/ (see abstract); +
+K Ps. IXb /waiwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, waiwäṣṣäṃ//] +war yokaiṣṣe witskaṃ waiwäṣṣäṃ-ne ‘the water of thirst/desire moistens it [scil. the saṃsāra-tree]’ (11b3). + -- waiwalñe ‘(excessive) moisture’: waiwalñe = BHS saṃkleda- (Y-3a2). +∎TchA wip- and B waiw- reflect a PTch *wip-. The second -w- in TchB reflects the same lenition of -p- after a resonant preceded by a long vowel that is also to be seen in wārw-. No extra-Tocharian cognates are known. VW (574) is surely wrong in trying to connect these words with Sanskrit dvīpa-, Avestan dvaēpa- ‘island.’ +

+ + +
+

+waiwalau +See waipalau. +

+ + +
+

+wkanmo +(adj.) +‘drinking’
+[m: wkanmo, -, -//] +[ce] saṃtke wkänm=onwāññe läṃ saṃsārṣṣe pelemeṃ ‘drinking the medicine of immortality, he will emerge from the saṃsāra-prison’ (274b5). +∎Probably with VW (576) from *wäknämo and from PIE *weg^w- [: Sanskrit ukṣáti ‘dampens, sprinkles,’ Avestan uxšyeiti ‘spray, sprinkle,’ Latin ūvescō ‘become damp; drink freely,’ Greek hugrós ‘wet,’ Old Norse vǫkr ‘wet,’ English wake, etc. (P:1118; MA:639)]. +

+ + +
+

+wkä +(particle) +‘indeed’
+mā yāmor nanautau mā [rano] wkä [śaul nanautau] ‘the deed [is] not lost nor, indeed, is life lost’ (K-7b1). +‣This would appear to be an unstressed variant of ok, q.v. See also māwk (s.v. mā). +

+ + +
+

+wcuko +See wicuko. +

+ + +
+

+wtentse +See wate. +

+ + +
+

+wnolme +See onolme. +

+ + +
+

+wpelme* +(n.) +‘(spider's) web’
+[-, -, wpelme//] +mäkte ypentse wpelm=auñento ṣpak wāpatsiś ‘as [is] the beginning to the weaving of the spider's web’ (286a5), /// c[m]elṣe wpelm=auñe[nt]ai y[amaskentä]r (286a6). +∎A derivative of wāp- (or rather the *wäp- that underlies wāp-), q.v. +For the formation, compare yśelme, syelme, or onolme. +

+ + +
+

+wpe +See wape. +

+ + +
+

+wyakṣep* +(n.) +‘distraction; hindrance’
+[-, -, wyakṣep//] +(77a5, 162a5). +∎From BHS vyākṣepa-. +

+ + +
+

+wyameṃ +‘?’
+///r wyameṃ ṣe ṣpä totte indrinta /// (193a4). +

+ + +
+

+wyāk(t)* +(n.) +‘visible appearance’
+[-, -, wyāk//] +trā akṣārsa wyākne ‘in the appearance of the akṣara trā’ (325a4). +∎From BHS vyakti-. +

+ + +
+

+wyār +(distributive numeral) +‘each two’
+[caim] wi[yā]r känte p_iśākar eṣemeṃ piś-känte jaṭiläñi po kkeñisa lymā[re] (108a5), [ingredients] wyār traunta saṃtkenta (497b4/5). +∎A derivative of wi, q.v. For the formation, see Winter, 1987. +

+ + +
+

+wyai +(n.) +‘outlay, expense, cost’
+[wyai, -, -//] +sāngäṣe kemne k_uśāni wyai takāre 801,900 ‘for the monastery land the outlay was 801,900 k_uśānes’ (490b-II-2). +∎From BHS vyaya-. +

+ + +
+

+wrat* +(n.) +‘vow’
+[-, -, wrat//] +ṣañ wrat lau tarkanacer ‘you release your own vow’ (108a7). +∎From BHS vrata-. +

+ + +
+

+wrattsai +(adv.) +‘against’
+[wrattsai we- ‘answer,’ wrattsai āks- ‘report, relate,’ wrattsai tsänk- ‘rise up against’] +/// wrattsai weṣṣi ... k_use parśi-ne wrattsai weṣṣi sū ‘he answered: whoever asked him, he answered’ (28b5), om no ñake lā[ṃ]t wrattsai kekamu Viduṣake katkauñaisa ... lāntaś weṣṣäṃ ‘now then having come up to the king, V., with joy, says to the king’ (78a3/4), wrattsai tsänkā-ne ‘he rose up against him’ (AMB-b3), wrattsai aksaṣṣällona pelaiknenta = BHS pratideśanīya dharmāḥ (H-149.X.5a1 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎Lidén (1916:28-29) and VW (583) would equate this word directly with Latin versus/vorsus from PIE *wṛt^sto- [: also Sanskrit vṛttá-, the past participle of vṛt- ‘turn’ (P:1156-1157; MA:607)]. However, PIE -t^st- appears to have become -st- in Tocharian (cf. wästarye from *ud^stṛyo-); thus this equation presents phonological difficulties as it stands. Probably we should see in B wrattsai a reflex of a PIE *wṛt^styo- with the replacement of a simple o-stem as so often by a yo-stem. +

+ + +
+

+wraśkaiṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: wraśkaiṣṣa, -, -//] +wraśkaiṣṣa pyāpyo (W-3b2). +‣An adjective derived from an underlying plant name *wrāśkā- (species unknown). +

+ + +
+

+wratstsoñña +(n.) +‘± exertion, joy, firmness’ (?)
+[wratstsoñña, -, -//] +wratstsoñña = BHS utsūḍhi (537a2). +‣For the possibilities of meaning, Edgerton s.v. utsūḍhi and utsoḍhi. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+wrāk- +(vt.) +‘?’
+Pt. I /wrākā-/ [A //-, -, wrākār] +/// [pā]tri larepi cwi pantuk wrākār ñke (H-149.69b4 [Thomas, 1979:57]). +

+ + +
+

+wrāko* +(nf.) +‘shell, (particularly) oyster-shell’
+[-, -, wrākai//] +[spä]ntaiytsñeṣṣai wrākai pāyāsta klenauntsai ‘he blew the resounding shell of faith’ (214b4). + -- wrākaññe* ‘prtng to (a) pearl’: wrākaññeṃ wmera makci priyeṃ ‘they themselves were wearing pearl jewels’ (PK-NS-18A-a2 [Thomas, 1978a:239]). +∎TchA wrok ‘id.,’ when compared to B wrākā- suggests as PTch *wrekā- with the *-e- representing a PIE *-o-. PTch *-e- from *-o- did not undergo ā-umlaut in a stressed syllable in Tocharian A while it did in B (cf. *-ē- which underwent ā-umlaut in both languages). The -o- of Tocharian A represents a later rounding of the *-e- (of whatever source) in a labial environment (cf. ñom ‘name’ [: B ñem]). Further connections are not clear. Assuming that the Tocharian words mean ‘pearl,’ VW suggests (644) that we have a borrowing from Khotanese mrāha- ‘pearl.’ +

+ + +
+

+wrāt- +(vt.) +‘± shape, form’
+Ko. V /wrātā-/ (see abstract). + -- wrātalñe ‘shape, form’: ñem wrātalñe ṣärmatse = BHS nāmarūpa (H-149-ADD.27b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]). +∎TchA has wrātal (in sne-wrātal ‘formlessness’), presupposing a PTch *wrāt-. From PIE *wred^h- ‘grow, stand, take shape’ [: Sanskrit vṛdháti ‘increases, grows, becomes strong,’ vrādhant- ‘upright,’ Latv rãdît ‘bear’ (P:1167; MA:249)](VW: 583-4). +See also wertsiya. +

+ + +
+

+wriyeṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to water’
+[m: wriyeṣṣe, -, -//] +wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä ‘drop of water’ (3b3). +∎A derivative of war (with the adjective forming suffix -ṣṣe added to an already derived adjective in -iye). +

+ + +
+

+wrente(-) +‘?’
+/// po kektseñä sanapatsi wrente/// (W-14a2). +

+ + +
+

+wre +See ore. +

+ + +
+

+wreme +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘object’
+[wreme, -, -//] +mäkte ñake käkse-wreme emalyaṣṣe kektseṃne stmauṣ [lege: stmoṣ] avasth yainmu sak tanmaṣṣeñca mäsketrä suwak käkse-wreme krostañaṣṣe [sic] avasth yainmu lakle tanmaṣṣeñca mäsketrä ‘as the warm kakse-object, standing in the body, produces good fortune, just so a cold kakse-object standing in a body, produces suffering’ (197b4/5). +∎TchA wram and B wreme reflect PTch *wreme probably from PIE *wrē-mēn (nt., cf. TchA plural wramäṃ from *wrēm(e)nā). This etymology goes back in nuce to Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:159. It would be, as VW points out (580-581), the quasi-exact equivalent of Greek hrēma ‘word’ from PIE *wrēmṇ. +

+ + +
+

+wrotstse +See orotstse. +

+ + +
+

+wrauña +(nf.) +‘± crow’
+[wrauña, -, -//] +[k]_u[se] parśi-ne ksa tuk sū weṣy entwe mäkte ramt wrauña ‘whoever should ask him, just the same should he say, like a crow’ (28b4). +∎Probably with Krause (l951:199) we should see some sort of relationship with Lithuanian várna, Russian voróna ‘crow’ (P:1166; MA:142) but the details are most obscure (for a suggestion, starting from an earlier *wärnauña, see VW:583). +

+ + +
+

+Wrauśke +(n.) +‘Wrauśke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Wrauśke, -, -//] +(491b-II-1). +

+ + +
+

+wlaṃśke +(adj.) +‘soft, pliable’
+[m: wlaṃśke, -, wlaṃśke ~ wlaṃśkeṃ//] [f: -, -, wlaṃśka//] +somo somo klokaśne ltū wlaṃśke yok tañ kektsentsa ‘a soft hair having emerged from each pore over thy body’ (74a3), takälñene ... wlaiśke yetse ‘in touching the soft skin’ (K-10a2), malkwer täryāka-wī traunta wlaśkeṃ pūwarsa päkṣalle ‘32 trau of milk [is] to be cooked in a gentle fire’ (W-33b3). +∎An adjective derived from wäl- ‘bend, curve,’ q.v., (VW:578). The original meaning must have been something on the order of ‘flexible.’ TchA wlyep ‘id.’ is related but shows a very different kind of morphological derivative. +

+ + +
+

+wlaṃśle* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[/wlaṃśli, -, -/] +paine wlaṃśli snay au[rtsñe] (74a5). +‣Or is this an error for wlaṃśki? +

+ + +
+

+wlank +See olank. +

+ + +
+

+wlaśke +See wlaṃśke. +

+ + +
+

+wlāw- +(vt.) +‘control’ [normally used in the medio-passive as ‘control oneself’]
+Ko. V /wlāwā-/ [MP -, -, wlāwatär//; MPOpt. wlāwoymar, -, -]; Pt. Ib /wlāwā-/ [MP -, wlawātai, wlawāte//]; PP /wāwlāwā-/ +kektseñ reki palskosa ṣek wlāwoymar anaiśai duścaritmeṃ ‘by body, word, and spirit may I hold myself back from misbehavior’ (S-3a5); wlawātai anaiśai ‘carefully hast thou controlled thyself’ (243b4), keklyauṣormeṃ mrauskāte mamrauskau wlawāte palsko (A-1b5); ykāṃṣälñe ṣek warästrä ṣ[e]k imassu wawlāwau po ṣkas yälloṃ ‘always he practices loathing [of the body] and [is] always mindful, controlling all six senses’ (8b7), anaiśai wawlāwau = BHS susamāhitaḥ (H-149.236b5 [Thomas, 1968a:204]). + -- wawlāwarmeṃ; +
+wlāwalñe ‘control’: [spe]lkesa snai-ykorñesa wlāwalñesa ‘with zeal, diligence, and self-control’ (12b7), wlāwalyñesa pälskoṣṣe menkītse käskau wiṣainta ‘one lacking spiritual control [has] scattered the objects of the senses’ (A-2b6); +
+wlawalyñeṣṣe ‘prtng to control’ (241b4/5); +
+wawlāwar ‘± control’ (134b5). +∎TchA wlāw- and B wlāw- reflect PTch *wlāw-, (as if) from PIE *wl-eh_a-w- (for the verb unextended by -w-, see walo). Further connections are less certain. Pedersen (1941:202, fn. 1) and VW (554, 576) suggest relating this term to PIE *wel- ‘press, squeeze’ (P:1138; see also wälts-) but the semantic connection is hardly compelling. Hilmarsson (1991:44-45) takes it to be related to B wāl- ‘cover’ and from PIE *wel- ‘id.’ (for the semantics he compares Old Norse hamr ‘covering, skin’ and hemja ‘restict, contain.’ +See also walo and awlāwatte. +

+ + +
+

+wlaiśke +See wlaṃśke. +

+ + +
+

+wśīrä +(n.) +‘fragrant root of Vetiveria zizanioides Linn’ (aka Andropogon muricatus Retz.) (a medical ingredient)
+[wśīrä, -, -//] +(W-8a5). +∎From BHS uśīra-. +

+ + +
+

+wṣiye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+[wṣiye, -, -//] +nraiṣṣeṃts weṃṣiyetstse wṣiye ram no koynameṃ /// (576a6). +

+ + +
+

+wṣeñña* +(nf.) +‘place; dwelling place; condition’
+[-, wṣeññantse, wṣeññai//-, -, wṣeññaṃ] +toṃ ykenta wnolmeṃ[ts] nestsine śtwārka wṣeññaṃne wsaskeṃ ‘these [are] the places in being of creatures; they dwell in forty places’ (45b3/4), akañcar wṣeññaṃ = BHS prāntāni śayanāsanāni (542b3), wṣeñaine ompals[k]oññentse ‘in a place of contemplation’ (561a3), se ñke śaul ñi kektseñäṣṣai ārṣäṃ wṣeññai ‘this my life now loses [its] corporeal place’ (PK-NS-51b5 [Thomas, 1979:54]), mā näno ñiś ostäṣṣai wṣeññaine nesew [w]ṣīlle ntā ‘never will I dwell again in a house-dwelling’ (PK-12H-b5 [Thomas, 1986:134]). +∎A derivative of wäs-², q.v. +See also ost. +

+ + +
+

+wse, wsetstse +See wase. +

+ + +
+

+-ś +See -śc. +

+ + +
+

+śaṃtsna* +(n.) +‘announcement’
+[-, -, śaṃtsna//] +śaṃtsnasa spärkālñe westrä ‘the dissolution is learned/ spoken of by announcement’ (K-8a6). +∎From BHS śaṃsana-. +

+ + +
+

+śak +(numeral) +‘ten’ (pl. ‘decades’)
+[sg. śak//pl. śkanma (see śkanmaṣṣe)] +ṣäṃṣalñe ṣe wī trai śtwer piś śak täṅtsi ‘counting [is] one, two, three, four, five, up to ten’ (41a8), śak cakanma śātre ‘ten cāks of grain’ (TEB-74-7). + -- śkanmaṣṣe ‘prtng to the decades’: śtwer śkänmaṣṣ=āstreṃ keme[ntsa yaito]ṣ ‘provided with four decades of pure teeth’ (248b2); +
+śak-ṣe ‘eleven’; +
+śak-wi ‘twelve’: śak-wi klautk[eṃ] = BHS dvādaśākāra (148a1); +
+śak-śtwer ‘fourteen’; +
+śak-piś ‘fifteen’; +
+śa(k)-ṣkäs ‘sixteen’; +
+śak-ṣkaste ‘sixteenth’; +
+śaṣkässaṣṣe* ‘?’: mäkte śaṣkässaṣṣe meṃ-ñäkt^./// (364a7); +
+śak-ṣukt ‘seventeen’; +
+śak-okt ‘eighteen’; +
+śak-tmane ‘hundred thousand’; +
+śak-karmapathäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the way of the ten deeds’ (346b1). +∎TchA śäk and B śak reflect PTch *śäk and that, in turn, must be from PIE *déḱṃ [: Sanskrit dáśa, Avestan dasa, Armenian tasn (with a difficult vowel), Greek déka, Latin decem, Old Irish deich, Gothic taihun (P:191; MA:403)] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927). However, the initial ś- is difficult, since we might ordinarily expect either ts- or c-. Pedersen (1941:252, also Lane, 1945:22) assume an early assimilation *déḱṃ > pre-Tocharian *tek- > *kek-. Meillet (1911- 12:289, also VW:475-6) assumes that *déḱṃ would regularly give PTch *cäk and the ś- rather than *c- is by "assimilation" to the following velar. Finally Evangelisti (1950:136, also Pedersen, 1951:4-5, Winter, 1962a: 22-3) holds that the regular outcome of a PIE *d- before a front vowel was ś-. +See also śkante, śkār, and śka-maiyya. +

+ + +
+

+śakāto* +(n.) +‘stick, club’
+[-, -, śakātai//] +[ṣa]ñ k[e]wän śakātaisa [= BHS daṇḍena] kalṣtär-me ‘he goads his cows with a stick’ (3a3), apsāl śakattai ṣäp ay ṣesa pyākälyñe ‘striking with sword, club, together with bone’ (284b2). + -- śakātaṣṣe* ‘prtng to a stick’: śakātaṣṣa sā_u sälyye mkte [wa]rne nakṣtärṣe prentse ‘like a stick-mark in the water, it disappears in an instant’ (3b6/7). +∎Etymology unknown. VW's suggestion (468-469) of a connection with PIE *sek- ‘cut’ is fine semantically (as ‘that cut off’) but founders on the necessity of assuming an "assimilation" of an expected initial **ṣ to ś under the influence of a following -k-. +

+ + +
+

+śakeññe +See śākke. +

+ + +
+

+śaktalye +See śäktālye. +

+ + +
+

+śakti* +(n.) +‘power; capability’
+[-, śaktintse, śakti//] +(201b3). +∎From BHS śakti-. +

+ + +
+

+śak(_u)se* +(n.) +‘brandy’
+[-, -, śak_use//] +se ṣamāne mot māla trikelyesa śakse yokäṃ pāyti ‘[if] a monk with alcohol, maireya, or "Rauschtrank" drinks brandy, pāyti’ (H-149. X.3b2 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]). +∎A borrowing from Middle Chinese si̯wok-tsi̯ə̯u (in Karlgren's notation) ‘grain-alcohol’ (Naert, 1965:535). VW's subsequent attempt (469) to equate this word with PIE *seg^h- ‘hold, possess’ is not convincing either semantically or phonologically. +

+ + +
+

+śakkār +(n.) +‘sugar’
+[śakkār, -, -//] +śuwoy katkemane ālisa weṃṣy=eṃntwe mīt śakk[ar] ‘she might eat joyfully the excrement on [her] palms [as if it were] honey and sugar’ (42b5). +∎From BHS śarkarā- or, more probably, from a Prakrit equivalent. +

+ + +
+

+śankiññitse +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: śankiññitse, -, -//] +/// ̇ñi yparwe śka lyuwāsta śankiññitse tt ̇ṃ// (493a1). +

+ + +
+

+śanke +(n.) +‘?’
+[śanke, -, -//śanki, -, śankeṃ] +totteṃ wäntarwesa śankeṃ saimtsa ‘par [cette] circonstance extrême [et] sous protection ...’ (DAM.507a10 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +‣Pinault gives reference to unpublished examples of the nominative singular and plural. +

+ + +
+

+-śacākare +only in the compound or-śacākare ‘ratification on wood’ (see s.v. or).
+∎From Prakrit (Pali) saccakāra- ‘ratification, agreement, promise’ from Sanskrit satyaṃkāra- (Pinault, 1987:82). +See also satyakār. +

+ + +
+

+Śaci +(m.) +‘Śacī’ (PN, Indra's wife)
+[Śaci, -, Śaci//] +(296b8). +

+ + +
+

+śaśaraji* +(n.) +"hare-speck" (a very small unit of measure)
+[//śaśarajinta, -, -] +(326b4). +∎From BHS śaśararas-, vel. sim. +

+ + +
+

+śaḍi +(n.) +‘Trigonella foenum-graecum Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śaḍi, -, -//] +(P-1b4). +∎From BHS śarī-. +

+ + +
+

+śatapari +See śatavari. +

+ + +
+

+śatapuṣpa +(n.) +‘Anethum sowa Kurz.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śatapuṣpa, -, -//] +(P-2b1). +∎From BHS śatapuṣpa-. +

+ + +
+

+Śatabhiṣ* +(n.) +‘(the constellation or nakṣatra) Śatabhiṣa’
+[-, -, Śatabhiṣ//] +(M-2a5). +∎From BHS śatabhiṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+śatavari +(n.) +‘Asparagus racemosus Willd.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śatavari, -, śatavari//] +(Y-2b1, W passim). +∎From BHS śatāvarī-. +

+ + +
+

+śatkai/śitkai +(adv.) +‘very’
+śitkai - nano nano preksemane tākaṃ tanāpatentse palsko lau wäksetär (331b1/2). +∎In origin the accusative of a noun *śatko used adverbially (cf. spantai). *Śatko would be from kätk- ‘pass over, pass beyond’ (VW:471, Hilmarsson, 1991:177). For the semantic development one might compare the transformation of Latin trāns to French très. +See also eśatkai. +

+ + +
+

+śattālye +See śäktālye. +

+ + +
+

+śatreṣṣe +See śātre. +

+ + +
+

+śana +(nf.) +‘woman; wife’
+[śana, śnoy, śano//śnona, -, -] +kurpelle māñye-mañyanats śnoy säswa-tkārts ‘concern for slaves and slave-women, wives, sons and daughters’ (33a5/6), wasa śatrośco [lege: śanośco] Kāḍiki ‘he gave [her as a] wife to K.’ (44a3), śle śano s_äsuwa ‘with wife and sons’ (123b2). +∎TchA śäṃ and B śana reflect PTch *śänā from (late) PIE g^weneh_a- most clearly seen in OCS žena ‘woman’ [: also Sanskrit gnā ‘divine wife,’ Avestan gənā ‘wife, woman,’ Armenian kin ‘woman,’ Greek gunē ‘woman,’ Old Prussian genna ‘woman,’ Gothic qino (< *g^weneh_a-n-), Old Irish ben (< *g^wenh_a-), Cuneiform Luvian wanatti-/unatti-/wana- ‘woman,’ TchB klīye, A k_uli ‘woman’ (< *g^wneh_a-h₁en-) (P:473-474; MA:648)] (Feist, 1913:103, Meillet and Lévi, 1912:25, fn. 1, VW:476-477). +See also klīye. +

+ + +
+

+śanmau* +(nnt.) +‘fetter, bond’
+[-, -, śanmau//-, -, śänmānma] +Marantse śanmau kleśaṣṣe ‘the kleśa-fetter of Māra’ [= BHS mārabhandhanam] (27b6), källauṣṣana śänmānma[sa] śanmästär ‘you are bound with the fetters of greed’ (33a8). +∎A derivative of ś(c)änm-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Śaputanase* +(n.) +‘Śaputanase’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Śaputanasi, -//] +(490-II-6). +

+ + +
+

+śapt* +(n.) +‘right word, correct expression’
+[-, -, śapt//] +(281a4). +∎From BHS śabdha-. +See also apaśabdh. +

+ + +
+

+śabaralodär +(n.) +‘(a kind of) Symplocos racemosa Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śabaralodär, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS śabaralodhra-. +

+ + +
+

+śabdh +See śapt. +

+ + +
+

+śamaśke +(nm.) +‘boy; (esp. in plural) child’
+[śamaśke, śamaśkentse, śamaśkeṃ//śamaśkañ, śamaśkaṃts, śamaśkaṃ] + klaiyna śak [] śamaśkaṃ śtwer [] teṃ parra ptārka ‘women ten, boys four; this [much] let pass’ (LP-30a2), emprenmaṣṣana haranma śtwāra akṣāsta klainaṃts śamaśkaṃts ‘thou didst announce the four pearls of truth to the women and children’ (TEB-59-30). +∎Related to śaumo ‘human being.’ The stem of /śāmäśke/ may be a generalization of that found in śāmna ‘human beings’ (with -āw- reduced to -ā- before two consonants) or reflect an early PTch -āwe- which gave later PTch -ā- (Winter, p.c.). Śaumo would then reflect *śāwm- and śamaśke, *śāwem-äśke-. In any case -äśke is a diminutive suffix. +See also śaumo, śāmñe, and śamñāṃśka. +

+ + +
+

+śamaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘prtng to tranquility (?)’
+[m: -, -, śamaṣṣe//] +///[yai]pu śamaṣṣe kes[tn]e ‘having entered a hunger for tranquility’ (277b2). +∎Possibly derived from an (unattested) *śām or śam from BHS śama-. +

+ + +
+

+śamñāṃśka* +(nf.) +‘girl’
+[-, śamñāṃśkantse, śamñāṃśkai//śamñāṃśkana, -, -] +[ñäkciyana śa]mñāṃ-śkana ‘divine maidens’ (509a4). +∎Related to śaumo and śamaśke, qq.v. A stem /śāmñ-/ + /-ānśkā-/ denoting females. +

+ + +
+

+śar +(n.) +a medical ingredient, possibly (1) Typha augustifolia or (2) the upper part of the cream or partially curdled milk
+[śar, -, -//] +(W-34b2). +∎If from BHS śara-. +

+ + +
+

+śarabhe +(n.) +‘śarabha’ (a mythical animal)
+[śarabhe, -, śarabheṃ//] +sū no śeritsi lac omte wartone śarabhe ñe[m] ‘he went to hunt there in the forest the śarabha by name’ (358a2). +∎From BHS śarabha-. +

+ + +
+

+śarāk +(n.) +‘overgarment’
+(K-T). +∎A derivative of śār, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śarāṃ +(n.) +‘refuge’
+[śarāṃ -, śarāṃ//] +yam-c ñakta śaranne astan=eṣke mrestiweśc ‘I go to thee, O Lord, into the refuge, into [thy] bones, even unto [thy] marrow’ (241b2), yam śarāṃne po śaulanmasa ‘I go to [thy] refuge for all lives’ (TEB-58-25). +∎From BHS śaraṇa-. +See also the variant śrāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+śari +(n.) +a kind of animal (a calf, heifer?)
+[śari, -, -//] +/// oksaiṃ wi śari ṣe teṃ /// ‘two oxen, one śari’ (LP-79a2). +∎The collocation of this word with that for ‘ox’ suggests the possibility at least of another word for a bovine of some sort. If so, it is natural to think of Sanskrit starīḥ ‘cow that neither gives milk nor is pregnant, heifer; barren,’ Greek steîra ‘barren (of animals or women),’ Armenian sterǰ ‘barren,’ Latin sterilis ‘barren,’ Gothic stairō ‘barren woman,’ Bulgarian sterica ‘barren cow’ (P:1031). Tocharian śa- would be regular from *ste- (see ś(c)äm-). +

+ + +
+

+śariye* +(adj.) +‘over-, upper’
+[-, -, śariye//] +śarye wassi rutkāte kaunäś sark kauc yāmṣate ‘he took off his outer garment and put his back full to the sun’ (5b4). +∎A derivative of śār, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śarīr* +(nnt.) +‘bodily remains; (bodily) relics’
+[-, -, śarīr//-, śarīrntaṃts, śarīrnta] + käntwāṣṣe śarīr cau patne tessa ‘he set the remains of the tongue in that stūpa’ (421-1a). + -- śarīräṣṣe ‘prtng to bodily remains’ (107a4); +
+śarirätstse* ‘possessing bodily remains’ (290a3); +
+śarirntātstse* ‘possessing bodily remains’ (257b2). +∎From BHS śarīra-. +

+ + +
+

+śarko* +(n.) +‘± lute’
+[-, -, śarka//-, -, śarkaṃ(?)] +/// gandharvv[i] śark[a] yāmṣyeṃ ‘the gandharvas played music’ (382a1), /// śarkaṃ ślokanmasa yal[ts]e /// ‘with a thousand strophes and lutes [?]’ (617b3), māka kerunta wrakaiṃ keraṃts ploriyaṃts newe klyauṣträ ‘the noise of many drums, conchs, keraṃts, and flutes is heard’ (PK-NS.772+AS-17Ka3/4 [Pinault, 1993-94:189]), śarka ploriyaisa yarke yamṣasta ‘thou didst render honor with lute and flute’ (Qumtura-34d5 [Pinault, 1993-94:176]). +∎Etymology unknown. See VW (529-530) for an implausible suggestion, predicated on an assumption of a relationship with TchA tsärk ‘lute,’ found only in tsärk-rape ‘lute-music’ (a connection accepted also by Pinault, 1990). The implausibility of the suggestion is due to the difficulty of relating in any natural way TchB ś- with A ts-. +

+ + +
+

+śarmire +(G-Su39). +See ṣarmire. +

+ + +
+

+śarye +See śariye. +

+ + +
+

+śarware +(adj.) +‘arrogant, haughty’
+[m: śarware, -, -//śarwari, śarwareṃts, -] +śarwari = BHS uddhatā (537a4). + -- śarwarñe ‘pride, arrogance’: snai śarwarñe = BHS anuddhata (20a3). +∎TchA śārwär (attested only in the masculine pl. acc. śārwres and B śarware reflect PTch *śārwäre. Etymology uncertain. Perhaps with Pinault (1991:189) we have a derivative of śār ‘all over.’ In any case, not with Couvreur (1950:128, also VW:471) who derives the TchB word ultimately from PIE *g^weru- ‘heavy’ (as if from PTch *śärwāre). +See perhaps śār. +

+ + +
+

+śalāp +(n.) +‘grasshopper/locust’
+[śalāp, -, -//] +tu[sa] /// śalāpä maścītsi ṣpä peṣeli śaiṣṣene mäskenträ pākri ‘thus ... [a swarm of] grasshopper[s], mice, and worms appear in the world’ (K-8b1). +‣In its one attestation apparently used as a collective--unless śalāpä is a miswriting for śalāpäṃ for the expected nominative plural śalāpäñ. +∎From BHS śalabha-. +

+ + +
+

+śale +(adv.) +‘likewise’ (sometimes the equivalent of ‘and’); (prep.) ‘with’
+ṣañ śl=ālyenkäts kartse[ne] spelkkessu ‘zealous for the good of others and likewise oneself’ (30b5), śle śano s_äsuwa ‘with wife and children’ (123b2), yñ[ak]t[eṃ] śale yśāmna ‘under gods with men’ (128b4), stāna śle sārmna ‘trees with [their] seeds’ (K-8b5), śle = BHS sa- (U-18b6). +

+ + +
+

+ślek +‘together with’
+pudñäkte ... ślek waiptāyar ṣamāneṃ ‘the Buddha ... together with scattered monks’ (17a4), aiśamñe spaktāṃ ślek ompalskoññe ‘knowledge, service, and meditation’ (17b1/2), śrāddhe tākoy ślek [k]wipassu ‘may he be faithful and likewise modest’ (23a4). + -- śle-aiśamñetstse ‘wise’: śl[e]-aiśamñets[e] = BHS saprajña (308a1). +∎Etymology dubious. TchA śla (and the TchA comitative ending -śśäl) and B śale reflect PTch *śäle but any PIE connection remains unclear. VW suggests (483) a connection with Sanskrit kālayati ‘impells,’ Greek (o)kéllō ‘bring a boat to shore,’ etc., but the semantic connection is hardly compelling. Pedersen (1925:27-8) suggests a semantically more satisfying connection with Old Irish céle ‘companion, spouse,’ Welsh kilydd ‘companion.’ The Celtic forms presumably reflect a PIE *ḱeilih_xo-, a derivative of *ḱei- ‘lie’ (P:539-540). The vowel of the first syllable of the Welsh word presupposes a pre-Welsh *kiiliyo- with assimilation to the second syllable. PTch *śäle might reflect then a PIE *ḱi-ló- ‘± accompanying’ but the lack of anything similar in the rest of Indo-European invites caution. +

+ + +
+

+śalna +(n.) +‘strife, bickering, quarrel’
+[śal(n)a, -, śal(n)a//-, -, śal(n)anta] +ceṃ ṣamāneṃ klautkäs[ts]i[śc] śalna[ntameṃ] ‘to turn these monks from quarrels’ (36a8), [te]ki nauske śalla waip[e]ccentse [n]k[el]ñ[e śau]l[aṣ]ṣai proskai ṣarpi ‘may he explain (away) sickness, depression, strife, the destruction of possessions and fear of life’ (511b1/2). +∎Apparently the underlying form is /śälnā-/, though the derived adjective looks to be /śālnā-/ (but note śilnāntäṃ). Is it possible we have a cross of /śälnā-/ and /śālā-/? In any case from PIE *kel- [: Lithuanian kalù ‘I strike,’ or Latin (per)-cellere ‘strike’ (P:545-546)] (VW:469-470). +See also śalnā_u. +

+ + +
+

+śalnā_u* +(adj.) +‘quarrelsome, bickering’
+[m: //-, śalnāntäṃts, śalnāntäṃ] +///[śa]lnāntats śpālmeṃ ynāñm ‘considered the best among those who bicker’ (36b2), se ṣamāne śilnāntäṃ we[tantäṃ] ṣamāneṃts klausa-pilṣi kalträ ‘[if] a monk stands, ears alert to bickering or fighting monks’ (H-149.X.3a4 [Couvreur, 1954b: 48]). +∎A derivative of śalna, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śawaññe-kwama* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 14 syllables (rhythm 7/7)
+[-, -, śawaññe-kwama//] +(582b1). +‣See Pinault's discussion (1989: 191-192). +

+ + +
+

+śawośañ +(n.pl.) +‘those eager to eat’
+[m: //śawośañ, -, -] +(K-T). +∎A derivative of śāw-, q.v. For the formation, see Winter, 1979. +

+ + +
+

+śastarṣṣe +See śāstär. +

+ + +
+

+śastrakālpaṣṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the śastra-age’
+[m: śastrakālpaṣṣe, -, -//] +(590a8). +∎From BHS *śastrakalpa- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Śākke* +(nm.) +‘Śākya’
+[-, -, Śākkeṃ//-, Śākkeṃts, -] + śakkets soy ṣai ksa Hastake ñem ‘he was a son of the Śākyas, one Hastaka [by] name’ (19a3). + -- śakkeññe ‘belonging to the Śākya family; belonging to the Buddha; ṛṣāke śakeññe = the Buddha’ (13a8), [śake]ññi ṣamāni ‘the Buddha's monks’ (337a1); +
+śakkeññeṣṣe* ‘prtng to the Śākya family’ (411a4). +∎From BHS śākya- or, more likely, some Prakrit descendant. +

+ + +
+

+śāklāṣkāñ +(n.[pl.]) +‘?’
+[//śāklāṣkāñ, -, -] +/// lt[e]n-ne śāklāṣkāñ kektsentsā pra/// (344.1b). +

+ + +
+

+Śākyamuni +(n.) +‘Śākyamuni’ (epithet of the Buddha)
+[Śākyamuni, -, -//] +(296b6). +∎From BHS śākyamuni-. +

+ + +
+

+śāñcapo +(n.) +‘(the tree) Dalbergia sissoo Roxb.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śāñcapo, -, *śāñcapo (cf. derived adj.)//] +(M-1b8). + -- śāñcapotstse ‘containing Dalbergia sissoo’ (W-26b2). +∎From BHS śiṃśapā-. +

+ + +
+

+Śāṇavāsi +(n.) +‘Śāṇavāsin’ (PN of a monk)
+[Śāṇavāsi, Śāṇavāsiñ, -//] +(H-ADD-149.62a3 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). +

+ + +
+

+Śātuma(-) +PN ?
+Śātuma/// (Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+śāte +(adj.) +‘rich’
+[m: śāte, -, śateṃ//śateñ, -, śatenäṃ] +āyorsa śāte ... su tänmasträ ‘he [who is] rich in giving will be [re]born’ (23b4/5), eśatkai śāte ekaññetstse olyapotstse ‘he [was] very rich, having many possessions’ (375a4). +∎Probably a borrowing from Iranian (perhaps pre-Khotanese) *šyāta- ‘joyous, rich’ [: Avestan šāta-, Sogdian š’t, Khotanese tsāta- (Bailey, 1967:111)]. This possibility is more likely than seeing śāte as inherited from PIE and a cognate of the Iranian forms (Pedersen, 1944:44-5, also VW:474-5). VW approves the inheritance hypothesis largely because he sees Iranian -š- reflected in Tocharian as -ṣ-. Certainly that is usually the case, but in this instance we must remember that the putative Iranian form had šy- rather than š-. +

+ + +
+

+śātre +(nm.) +‘grain’
+[śātre, -, śātre//] +ñake ṣuktañce ṣkas meñantse-meṃ motte [lege: mante] ñwe mape śātre śwātär ‘now from the seventh of the sixth month on, new ripe grain is eaten’ (461a5), witskaṃmpa kärkoṣ śātrempa ‘with grain sprouted with roots’ (ST-a4). + -- śatreṣṣe ‘prtng to grain’ (511a1). +∎By reduction of *-āwe- to -ā- (Winter, p.c.). (As if) from PIE *g^wyeh₃wo-tro- ‘Lebensmittel’ (VW, 1971b:115, 1976:475, though he starts from *g^wyeh₃-tro-). +See also śāw-. +

+ + +
+

+śānaśränkār* +(n.) +a meter of 4 X 18 syllables (rhythm 7/7/4)
+[-, -, śānaśränkār//] +(78b5). +

+ + +
+

+Śānta¹ +(n.) +‘Śānta’ (PN of a princess)
+[Śānta, -, -//] +(351a3). +

+ + +
+

+śānta² +See śaiyye. +

+ + +
+

+śānti* +(n.) +‘rite for averting (an) evil’
+[//śantinma, -, -] +/// [mā] āgat_änta mā śantinma balanma | ma nta ksa campya srūkalñe taṅt[s]i ‘not medicines, not rites for averting evil [nor] (magical) powers, not anything could hinder death’ (46b3). +∎From BHS śānti-. +

+ + +
+

+Śāntisene +(n.) +‘Śāntisena’ (PN)
+[Śāntisene, -, -//] +(Otani 19.1.2 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+śāp +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘curse, imprecation’
+[śāp, śāpäntse, śāp//] +cwīññe se śāp ste k_ucesa ṣp swesi mā sūwaṃ ‘the curse is his by which the rains do not rain’ (350b4). +∎From BHS śāpa-. +

+ + +
+

+śāmane +([indeclinable] adj./part.) +‘living’
+cwi śamāne pācer ‘his living father’ (88a5). +∎A derivative of śāw- ‘live.’ From PTch *śāwemāne by reduction of *-āwe- to -ā- (Winter, p.c.). +

+ + +
+

+śāmna +See śaumo. +

+ + +
+

+śāmñe +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘human (particularly as opposed to divine)’; (b) ‘humanity’
+[m: śāmñe, -, śāmñe//] [f: śāmña, -, śāmñai//-, -, śāmñana] +(a) ñäkcye rūp[sa] śāmñe rūpsa ‘in divine form or in human form’ (46b6), sn[ai] mäkt[e]wñ[e] śāmñe śaiṣṣe ‘without (final) fulfillment [is] the human world’ (245a1), ce śāmñe camel ‘this human birth’ (365b5), śāmñe [lege: śāmñai] kantwasa weṃtsi ‘to speak with a human voice’ (408a6); +
+(b) śāmñes=amāskai indrinta ‘[more] difficult than humanity [are] the sense organs’ (407b4). +∎A derivative of śaumo, q.v., but the exact mechanics are obscure. Do we have *śāwm- + -äññe > *śāwmñe > śāmñe by reduction of *-āw- to *-ā- before a consonant cluster? +

+ + +
+

+śāmp- +(vi.) +‘be haughty, conceited’
+Ps. IV /śompo-/ [Ger. śompolle]; Ko. V /śāmpā-/ [Ger. śāmpālle] +/// w[a]me[r] preñcai pelaikneṣṣe śompo/// (428b5), /// [tā]kanne rine śompolle /// (572.1a1), yṣiṣṣi klaintse mahūr ramt śompol/// (unnumbered Paris Fragm. (Couvreur, 1954c:83). +∎TchA śāmpāṃ ‘pride’ and B śāmp- assure a PTch *śāmp(ā)- but any further connections are obscure. VW suggests (473-474) a derivation from *stemb^(h)- (more s.v. ścänm-), comparing such words as Sanskrit stambha- ‘consolidation, pretension, vanity.’ The semantic connection is favorable but the phonological one weaker than one would like as one would expect both *-mb^h- and *-mb- to have become Tocharian -m-. +See also śāmpa. +

+ + +
+

+śāmpa +(n.) +‘haughtiness, conceit’
+[śāmpa, -, śāmpa//] +[po ai]śämñesa kekenoṣ snai śampā ‘possessed of all wisdom without conceit’ (138a3). +‣For the formation, see Winter, 1979. + -- śampoṣṣe* ‘± prtng to conceit’: (575b3); +
+śampāsse ‘haughty:’ Jāmadigniñe su Rāme śāmpasse po neksa ‘haughty Rāma [son] of Jamadagni destroyed everything’ (K-12a5) +∎A nominal derivative of śāmp-, q.v. (cf. TchA sāmpāṃ). +

+ + +
+

+śār +(adv.) +‘(all) over’
+pudñäktäṃ ññe pelaiknesa taur śār katnaṃ nakiṣṣe ‘over the law of the Buddha he strews the dust of blame’ (17b2), wär śār pärsnān ‘they poured water all over’ (121a6), tā_u erkenmasa ṣalāre kenek śār aipar-ne ‘they put her in the cemetery; they covered her all over with a linen’ (560a3). +∎Etymology unknown. VW suggests (641) an unlikely semantic development *‘vêtement de dessus’ > ‘au dessus (de), sur’ so as to make this word a borrowing from BHS śāra- ‘coverlet.’ +See also possibly śarware. +

+ + +
+

+śārapä +See śārip. +

+ + +
+

+Śāri* +(n.) +‘Śārī’ (PN of the mother of Śāriputra)
+[-, Śāriñ, -//] +(22b8). +

+ + +
+

+śārip +(n.) +‘Hemidesmus indicus R. Br.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śārip, -, //] +(W passim). +∎From BHS śārivā-. +

+ + +
+

+Śāriputre +(n.) +‘Śāriputra’ (PN of a disciple of the Buddha)
+[Śāriputre, Śāriputri, Śāriputreṃ//] +(22b6). +

+ + +
+

+śāl +(n.) +‘(the tree) Shorea robusta Gaertn. f.’
+[śāl, -, -//] +(275a2). +∎From BHS śāla-. +

+ + +
+

+śāw- ~ śāy- +(vi.) +‘live’ (normally intransitive but it may take an accusative of "direction" [14b5] or a cognate accusative [śaul śāw/y-])
+Ps./Ko. II /śāy^'ä/_e- ~ śāwe-/ [śāyau, -, śaiṃ//śayem, -, śāyeṃ ~ śaweṃ; Opt. śayīm, -,-//; Inf. śaitsi; APart. śayeñca]]; Imp. /päśāy-/; Pt. Ib /śāyā-/ [-, -, śāya//]; PP /śāśāyo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /śāwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, śawaṣṣäm//; MP -, -, śawästär//; Ger. śawaṣṣälle]; Pt. IV /śāwäṣṣā-/ +sanai ṣaryompa śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai ‘I will live with [my] one love all [my] life long for good’ (496a3/4), [ma]nt śāmn[aṃ]ts śaul tne kos śaiṃ ksa kaunaṃts meñaṃts kätkorne kärsnātr attsaik postäṃ ‘so [is] here the life of men; as much as one lives, by the passing of days and months, it is afterward completely cut off’ (3b5), olyapotse säkw śayem = BHS susukham bata jīvāmo (TX-1-b1 [Thomas, 1974:79]), nraintane cmenträ solmeṃ omte śaul śāyeṃ ‘[if] they are [re]born in hells, they will live there [their] whole life’ (K-2b4); ce kakāwormeṃ skwassu śāyi ‘having desired this, may he live fortunately’ (H-149.296a2 [Couvreur, 1954c:84]); tam tot śwātsi star-ñ kauṃ ś[aitsi] ... cesa śāyau ñiś ‘this is sufficient for me to live for a day ... by this [food] I will live’ (25a7), pintwāt śaitsisa mā kakonta ‘[by] almsgiving [is one] to live, not [by] invitations’ (32b8), alyaik no kraupanträ śānta kewäṃ śaitsisa ‘others however herd sheep and cattle for a living’ (H-149-ADD.28a5 [Thomas, 1954:756]), [pe]l[ai]k[n]esa śayeñcantse = BHS dharmajīvino (12b8), pärkre śāyeñca ‘living long’ (407a6); pśāy[a] or pśāy? (404b1), [ś]w[ātsi yokt]s[i] tsmocci pśaiso ye[s] ‘live you [over]-grown ones (?) to eat and drink’ (508a1) [[>] The imperative is usually given as śāyā- but the attested plural cannot be from such a stem and the singular is given in the published text as (in Krause's notation) pśā[y](a) with partly restored -y- and conjectural -a. See Hilmarsson, 1991:50]; mā tn=onuwaññe śāya nauṣ mā ra śaiṃ ksa tn= ompostäṃ ‘an immortal one did not live here earlier and likewise one live here afterwards’ (45a5); [śau]ly ñi śaśayu ‘having lived my life’ (93b3); kete ñemtsa yāmäṃ su mā walke śawaṣäṃ ‘in whosoever's name one does [this], he [scil. that person] does not live long’ (M-1b8); ///kṣäṃ so_i mācer śawästär (142a4); yāṣṣus=āttsaik śaul śawaṣṣälle ste ṣamāneṃts ‘through begging is life to be lived by monks’ (50a6); k_use laklesa śāwṣate /// k_use śāwṣante [sic] säswerṣṣ=ākalksa ‘who lived with suffering ... [or] who lived for the desire for a son’ (46b6/7). +‣Tocharian B shows an analogical extension of the root final -y- (normal before PIE *-e-, PTch *-ä-), e.g. 3rd pl. śāyeṃ, but the expected śāweṃ also appears. + -- śaśāyormeṃ: emparkre śaśāyormeṃ ‘having lived long’ (PK-AS-16.3a4 [Pinault, 1989: 156]); +
+śailñe: (H-150.42a2 [K]). +∎TchA śo- and B śāw- reflect PTch *śāw- from PIE *g^wyeh₃-w-e/o- [: Greek zōō from *g^wyeh₃-(y)e/o-] or, with *-w- but with zero-grade, Latin vīvere, Sanskrit jīvati, Avestan jvaiti, OCS živǫ (further, morphologically more distant, cognates at P:467-469; MA:356)] (Smith, 1910:16, Meillet, 1914:16, VW:484-485, though differing in details). (Cf. also the exact equation between TchB śaiyye and Greek zō(i)on.) +See also śaul, śaumo, śāmane, śaiyye, śaiṣṣe, śamaśke. +

+ + +
+

+Śāwaṃ* +(n.) +‘[the constellation] Śravaṇā’
+[-, -, Śāwaṃ//] +(M-2a4). +∎From BHS śravaṇā-. +

+ + +
+

+śāśwat +(adv.) +‘permanently, fixedly’
+Awiśäṣṣai kentsa ka ṣp śāśwat oko warpoymar ‘may I enjoy even the fruit off the Hell-ground permanently’ (TEB-64-04). +∎From BHS śaśvat. +

+ + +
+

+śāsaṃ* +(n.) +‘(authoritative) teaching; commandment’
+[-, śāsan(än)tse, śāsaṃ//] +[pudñäkte]nts[e] śāsanne ‘in the teaching of the Buddha’ (384a5). + -- śāsaṃṣṣe ‘prtng to the teaching’ (428b4). +∎From BHS śāsana-. +

+ + +
+

+śāstär +(nnt.) +‘(sacred) book’
+[śāstär, -, śāstär//-, -, śastar(n)ma] +[gr]aṃ[th]aṃñana śastarma sarit yama ṣy[eṃ] ‘they memorized the canonical books’ (PK-AS-16.3a6/b1 [Pinault, 1989:157]). + -- śastarṣṣe ‘prtng to the śāstra’ (81b1). +∎From BHS śāstra-. +

+ + +
+

+śāstrajñe* +(n.) +‘specialist, one learned in the śāstra’
+[-, -, śāstrajñe//] +(427b1). +∎From BHS śāstrajña-. +

+ + +
+

+śä- +(vt.) +‘set [something/someone] in motion; direct’
+Ps. II /ś^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, śeṃ] +yamorṣṣäññe aknatsā yamorṣṣäññe aiśaumye śen onkolmai śaiṣṣene ṣäñ yoññiye [lege: yoññiyai ?] waltsnan ma ‘the fool of the deed and the wiseman of the deed [both] set the elephant in motion; it does not crush [i.e. make] its own path in the world’ (255a7/b1). +∎From PIE *kei(h_x)- ‘set in motion; be in motion.’ The Tocharian present is from *ki(h_x)-e/o-, exactly as in Greek kíō ‘set oneself in motion, go away’ but used transitively rather than intransitively (cf. P:538-539; MA:506). +See Further, see also śnāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+śäktālye +(nnt.) +‘seed’
+[śäktālye, -, śäktālye//-, -, śäktālyenta] +/// sk[e]ye pittsauṣṣe śäktāly[e] ra ‘effort is like a pittsau seed’ (153b1), śaktalye iṅaum kästwer katnau ‘I sow the seed day and night’ (205a3), /// śiktālyenta stāna/// ‘seeds, trees’ (599b5). +∎TchA śäktālyi and B śäktālye reflect a PTch *śäktāly-, probably to be related to kät- ‘strew’ (Lévi, 1933:125). The exact details of the formation are not as clear as they might be but we probably have a reduplicated present formation --[as if] PIE *kik_ed-eh_a-lyo- or the like. Both semantically and phonologically far less probable is VW's connection (476) with Latin segetālis ‘pertaining to standing crops.’ +See also kät-. +

+ + +
+

+śänk- +(vi.) +‘delay, hesitate’ (?)
+Ps. I /śänk-/ [-, śinka[t], -//] +ceyna cāneṃ lau c[ä]rkāwa-ś po preksau-ś mā śinka[t] aiskau/// ‘I have returned all these cānes; do not delay (?); I give ...’ (495b1). +∎If the meaning is correctly assigned, probably to be connected with PIE *ḱenk- ‘hang, be suspended’ [: Gothic hāhan ‘hang’ (tr.), English hang, Sanskrit śánkate ‘hestitates, be doubtful,’ Latin cunctor (cunctārī) ‘temporize, hesitate,’ Hittite kank- (P:566; MA:255)] (Krause, 1952:60, VW:480), though all other Indo-European cognates would seem to presuppose *ḱonk- rather than the *ḱenk- needed by Tocharian. Perhaps we have evidence for a Narten present, strong grade *ḱónk-, weak grade *ḱénk-. +

+ + +
+

+śätkaroñ +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘leech’ (?)
+[//śätkaroñ, -, -] +śtwara tasanmane ite-ite motä-yokaiṃ taṣalle eplyuwai yasarne śätkaroṃ pāline taṣällona ‘on four containers, each full [of alcohol?], one [is] to set those thirsty for alcohol; leeches, swimming [?] in blood [are] to be placed in a row [?]’ (M-3a4), śätkaroṃ päst slankällona ‘the leeches [are] to be pulled out’ (W-42a4). +∎Etymology unknown. Probably not related to kätk- ‘pass by’ (so VW:477). +

+ + +
+

+śänm- +See ś(c)änm-. +

+ + +
+

+śärselle +(verb gerund?) +‘?’
+[list of medical ingredients] mäśśakene aṣiye śärselle se laiko ārkwi yamaṣäṃ ‘... mäśśakene and goat's [milk is] to be śärselle'd; this bath makes white’ (W-11a5). +

+ + +
+

+śärtākru +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[śärtākru, -, -//] +(497b8). +

+ + +
+

+śike(-) +‘?’
+///matsi ra śike - wästa/// (386a7). +

+ + +
+

+śikṣapāt* +(nnt.) +‘moral precept, moral commandment’
+[-, śikṣapātäntse, śikṣapāt//-, -, śikṣapātänta] +pañäkte ... ce śikṣapāt śānmya ‘the Buddha established this moral commandment’ (H-149.X.4b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]), lykaśkana śik ṣapātänta tsamo śitkāre ‘they transgress very much the minor precepts’ (PK-AS-18B-b1 [Pinault, 1984b:376-7]). +∎From BHS śikṣāpada-. +

+ + +
+

+Śikhiṃ +(n.) +‘Śikhin’ (PN)
+[Śikhiṃ, Śikhiṃntse, Śikhiṃ//] +(Qumtura 34-d passim [Pinault, 1993-94:176]) +

+ + +
+

+Śīghravāhaṇe +(n.) +‘Śīghravāhaṇa’ (PN)
+[Śīghravāhaṇe, -, -//] +(382b7). +

+ + +
+

+Śinku* +(n.) +‘Śinku’ (PN)
+[-, -, Śinkuṃ//] +(DAM.507a6 [Pinault, 1984b]). +

+ + +
+

+Śinke* +(n.) +PN ?
+[-, Śinkentse, -//] +otaṃk Tukikäṃntse peri sarmwātsai Śinkentse yap wsāwa cāk tarya taum ‘thus I gave 1 cāk and 3 tau millet owing ti T. to sarmwātsai Ś.’ (462a5). +‣Probably not a common noun, a borrowing from Chinese shêng or Khotanese śiṃga- (itself a borrowing from Chinese). Chinese shêng is to be seen in TchB ṣank. +

+ + +
+

+Śiñcake +(n.) +‘Śiñcake’ (PN)
+[Śiñcake, -, -//] +atsiñe yoñiyatse Śiñcake (Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+śiñcatstse* +(adj.) +‘snowy’
+[m: -, śiñcaccepi, śiñcacce//] +śiñcaccepi ṣlentse tsänk[arwaṣṣe] ‘prtng to the peaks of the snowy mountain’ [śiñcaccepi ṣlentse = BHS himavat] (H-ADD.149.79a4 [Couvreur, 1966:178]), /// [śi]ñcäcce meltesa käccilya ‘[it is not] to be laid on snow-covered dung’ (H-149.37a3 [H:113]). +∎A derivative of an unattested *śiñce ‘snow.’ Possibly from PIE *snig^wh-en- [: Prakrit siṇeha- ‘snow,’ Avestan snēža- ‘to snow,’ Greek nípha (acc.) ‘snow,’ neíphei ‘it snows,’ Latin nix/nivis ‘snow,’ Old Irish snigid ‘it drips, rains,’ Gothic snaiws ‘snow,’ Old English snāw (> Modern English snow), Old High German snīwan ‘to snow,’ Lithuanian sniẽgas ‘snow,’ OCS sněgъ ‘id.’ (P:974; MA:530)]. The nominative singular *snig^whēn would give PTch *ṣñäśe > *ṣñśe (cf. the development of ṣalype) > *śñśe (by assimilation) > *śäñce (again cf. ṣalype) > *śiñce (cf. piś). Otherwise VW (1971e:182-4, 1976:480) from *ḱwindeto-, comparing Sanskrit śvind- ‘be white,’ or K. T. Schmidt (1980:410), who takes it to be from *śimäñc- and equivalent to Hittite gimmant- ‘winter.’ +

+ + +
+

+śīto +‘?’
+///yeme śīto mā enka/// (623b5). +

+ + +
+

+Śitkai +See śatkai. +

+ + +
+

+śinmalyñe +See käm-. +

+ + +
+

+śimpriye* ~ śimpro* +(n.) +‘winter’
+[-, -, śimprai//] +(K. T. Schmidt, 1994:281). + -- ¹śimprāye* (adj.) ‘prtng to winter’ (Otani-II-1 [K. T. Schmidt, 1994:281]). +∎TchA śärme ‘winter’ and B śimpriye/śimpro* reflect PTch śäm(ä)rāi-, itself from a putative PIE *ǵ^him(e)reh_a-h₁en- [: Latin hiems ‘winter’, Greek kheîma ‘winter (weather),’ kheimōn ‘id.,’ OCS zima ‘winter,’ Avestan zyå ‘winter,’ Sanskrit hemantá- ‘in winter,’ Hittite gimi ‘in winter,’ etc., and with r-extensions, Greek kheimerinos ‘wintry,’ Latin hībernus ‘wintery’ (P:145; MA:504)] (K. T. Schmidt, 1994:281). +

+ + +
+

+Śimpraye*² +(n.) +‘Śimpraya’ (PN of a monk?)
+[-, Śimprayentse, -//] +śale amokäcci ṣameṃ Śimprayentse patsānkäś skakanma laṃsseṃträ ‘likewise the artisans sit [sc. are here]; they are working on the balconies to Śimpraya's window’ (TEB-74-3). +

+ + +
+

+śiriṣ +(n.) +‘Acacia lebbek Benth.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śiriṣ -, -//] +(P-2b5, W-15a4). + -- śiriṣäṣṣe* (H-149.47, Couvreur, 1966:162]). +∎From BHS śirīṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+śiriṣapuṣpa +(n.) +‘flower of Acacia lebbek Benth.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śiriṣapuspa, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS śirīṣapuṣpa-. +

+ + +
+

+śīl +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(moral) behavior’ (śīl pāsk- [MP] ‘behave in a moral fashion’)
+[śīl, -, śīl//] +k_use stmoṣ śīln=āstreṃ ‘those who have stood in pure behavior’ (15a6=17a7), śīl aiyśamñe [cakkarwisa] paiyne yaiytoṣ ‘feet decorated by the cakras of moral behavior and knowledge’ (214a5). + -- śīlaṣṣe* ‘prtng to moral behavior’: paṣṣatai śiläna [lege: śiläṣṣana] sälyai[no] ‘thou hast behaved in moral ways’ (241a6). +∎From BHS śīla-. +

+ + +
+

+Śiladewe +(n.) +‘Śīladeva’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śiladewe, -, -//] +(G-Su17). +

+ + +
+

+Śilamitre +(n.) +‘Śīlamitra’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śilamitre, -, -//] +(G-Su17). +

+ + +
+

+Śilayaśe +(n.) +‘Śīlayaśa’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śilayaśe, -, -//] +(G-Su32). +

+ + +
+

+Śilarakite +(sic) +(n.) ‘Śīlarakṣita’ (PN of a merchant)
+[Śilarakite, -, -//] +(492a1). +

+ + +
+

+Śīlarakṣī +(n.) +Śīlarakṣin’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śīlarakṣī, -, -//] +(G-Qm8). +

+ + +
+

+śilavānde*¹ +(adj.) +‘extolling moral behavior’
+[m: //-, -, śilavāndeṃ] +cai śilavādeṃ ṣamā[neṃ] ‘these monks who extol moral behavior’ (431b3). +∎If from BHS śīla- + vanda- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+Śilavānde² +(n.) +‘Śīlavanda’ (PN)
+[Śilawande, -, -//] +(431a4). +

+ + +
+

+śilavārgṣe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the sixth chapter of the Udānavarga’
+[m: śilavārgṣe, -, -//] +(S-3a2). +∎A derivative of the unattested *Śilavārg from BHS *śīlavarga-. +

+ + +
+

+Śilawande +See Śilavānde². +

+ + +
+

+Śilawarne +(n.) +‘Śīlavarna’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śilawarne, -, -//] +(G-Su17). +

+ + +
+

+Śilasoma +(n.) +‘Śīlasoma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śilasoma, -, -//] +(G-Su25.A). +

+ + +
+

+Śilopake +(n.) +‘Śīlobhaga’ (PN in graffito)
+[Śilopake, -, -//] +(G-Qa4.B.2). +

+ + +
+

+śilnānt- +See śalnā_u. +

+ + +
+

+śilyme +(adj.?) +‘?’
+tikṣnendri tākoym ce krent yāmorsa maitreyempa śilyme eṣe tākoym (605b2/3). +

+ + +
+

+śu- (śuwā- ~ śāwā-) +(vt.) +‘eat (at); consume, devour’
+G Ps./Ko. V /śuwā- ~ śāwā-/ [A -, śuwat, śuwaṃ//-, -, śuwaṃ; MP -, -, śwātär//; AImpf. // -, -, śawoṃ ~ śwoṃ; Ko. -, -, //; Opt. -, -, śuwoy//-, -, śwoyeṃ ~ śwoṃ; Inf. śwātsi; Ger. śwālle]; Pt. Ia /śuwā-/ [-, -, śuwa//]; Pt. Ib /śāwā-/ [-, -, śāwa//-, -, śawāre//MP -, -, śawāte//]; "Intensive" Pt. (Pt. VII) /śāwiyā-/ [-, -, śawiya//]; PP /śeśu-/ +śa[woṃ]-n=okonta [ipf.] swāre ṣṣai [śūke] ‘they ate its fruit--sweet was the taste’ (3a8), mā śwoṃ [ā]lyauce ‘they ate nothing foreign’ (3b1), śuwan no ku[nāp] ‘then he will eat carrion’ (19a8), /// ailñe śūwaṃ cmelane ‘they will consume their heritage in births’ (21a2), mäkte yelyitse ku tallāw tākaṃ śwāṃ-ne ynkauṃ-kästwer yelyi pilenta ‘as a worm-ridden dog will be suffering; the worms eat at his wounds day and night’ (33a8/b1), ñake ṣuktañce ṣkas meñantse-meṃ motte [lege: mante] ñwe mape śātre śwātär ‘from the seventh of the sixth month on new, ripe grain is to be eaten’ (461a5), śwātsi śwāle ‘food to be eaten’ (335b4); śuwa (gloss to TchA 394b1); seyi mīsa śawāre trikoṣ kess[a] ‘bedeviled by hunger they ate the flesh of the son’ (239a2), /// p[a]kenta kärstā-c tsaukā-[c] [su yasar] /// ‘he cut you into pieces, he sucked your blood’ (250a1/2), seṃ p_iśākka-ṣe cakanma okt taum yap pinkce ikäṃ-ṣe tänktsi śawāte ‘these fifty-one cāks and eight taus of barley have [from] the fifth to the twenty-first been eaten’ (461a3); [ṣe]me yäkne śawiya ette temeñ aśśi cwi ‘in a single way he ate; consequently downward [were] his heads’ [of a monster with two heads] (76a4); śeśu yap ‘having eaten millet’ (482a1), olyapotse māka śeśu ‘having eaten too much’ (ST-a1). + -- śawāñca ‘eating’: śawāñc=ailñe = BHS dāyādo (21a1), [we]re śawāñca = BHS gandharvaś ca (176b5); +
+śawāñcaññe ‘prtng to eating’: ṣamānetse yāṣṣu śawāñcaññe yan-ne se klāwi ‘the fame of the alms eating of a monk will catch up to him’ (H-149.39a3 [Couvreur, 1954c:85]); +
+śeśuwer: mit śeśuwermeṃ emalle war ma yokalle ‘having eaten honey, hot water [is] not to be drunk’ (ST-b3); +
+śeśwormeṃ. +∎AB śuwā- reflect PTch *śuwā- from PIE *ǵyewh_xeh_a- [: Modern Persian jāvīdan (< *jyav-), OCS žьvati (< *zjъvati) ‘to chew,’ Lithuanian žiáunos (f.pl.) ‘jaws,’ Old English cēowan (> Modern English chew), OHG kiuwan (> MHG kūwen > NHG kauen) (P:400, MA:175 with other cognates)] (Schrader/Nehring, 1917-23:327, Pedersen, 1925:32, fn. 1, VW:490). Similar are those discussions starting from PIE *ǵyuh_a- (K. T. Schmidt, 1982:365, Lindeman, 1987:301). +See also eśuwatte, śwāl, śwālyai, and perhaps śuke. +

+ + +
+

+Śukāse +(n.) +‘Śukāse’ (PN in caravan pass)
+[Śukāse, -, -//] +(LP-29a3). +

+ + +
+

+śūke +(nnt.) +‘taste; sap; liquid, juice’
+[śūke, -, śūke//-, śukentaṃts, -] +swāreṃ ṣai [śūke mit ra]m[t] śūkene ‘sweet was its taste, like honey in taste’ (3a8), kawāññenträ śuke ‘they desire the sap’ (24b2), empreṃtsñe no swareṃmeṃ swāre śukentaṃts ‘truth, however, [is] the sweetest of the juices’ (24b6), erene kartstsa werene kartstsa śukene kartstsa ‘good in appearance, good in smell, good in taste’ (107a4), täñ wätkāṣṣälyñentse śuke aiśeñca katu = BHS tvacchāsanarasajño (251b3), śūkentane trenkältsa perne peñiyo muskī[ntär] ‘because of attachment to the savors [of the world], glory and splendor disappeared’ (PK-AS-16.2a3/4 [Pinault, 1989:155]), āmpäl śuke salyiṃ ṣpä malkwermpa eweta = BHS cāmlaṃ dravam adravaṃca payasā sahā viruddham (ST-a6), ceu śukesa päkṣalle ‘with that liquid it [is] to be cooked’ (W-21b2). + -- śukeṣṣe ‘prtng to taste’ (155a5); +
+śuketstse* ‘having a taste’ (51b8). +∎Etymology obscure. Perhaps TchA śuk and B śuke are to be related to AB tsuk- ‘drink,’ q.v. (so Sieg, Siegling, Schulze, 1931:461, VW:538), but the phonological development in B is difficult (though a similar development may be seen in śak ‘ten,’ q.v.). Lidén, 1916:24 (also Pisani, 1942-43a:30 and Pedersen, 1944:31) would derive it instead from śu(wā)- ‘eat.’ +

+ + +
+

+śukkär* +(n.) +‘semen’
+[-, -, śukkär//] +olyapotse māka śeśu ... śukkär āsäṣṣäṃ ‘eating too much ... dries up the semen’ [śukkär = BHS puṃstva-] (ST-a1). +∎From BHS śukra-. +

+ + +
+

+Śuklodane* +(n.) +‘Śuklodana’ (PN of brother of Śuddhodana)
+[-, -, Śuklodaneṃ//] +(517a5). +

+ + +
+

+śuklyā +‘?’
+tarnene krorīyai śuklyā/// (580b4), ///śuklyā pkopi se/// (580b5). +

+ + +
+

+śuṇḍ ~ śuñc +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘trunk (of an elephant)’
+[śuñc ~ śuṇḍ -, -//] +/// Airawantaṃtse onkolmaits lānte sayi [lege: seyi] ramt śuñc ‘a trunk like [that] of the son of A., king of the elephants’ (74a4), śuṇḍ pärkare ‘a long trunk’ (218b3). +∎From BHS śuṇḍa-. +

+ + +
+

+Śuddhavās +(n.) +‘Śuddhāvāsa’ (PN of a class of gods)
+[Śuddhavās, -, -//-, -, Śuddhavāsänta] +(591a2). + -- śuddhavāsäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the Śuddhāvāsa-gods’ (107b2). +

+ + +
+

+Śuddhodane* +(n.) +‘Śuddhodana’ (PN of brother of Śuklodana)
+[-, Śuddhodani, -//] +(608b3). +

+ + +
+

+śuddhodaññe* +(n.) +the name of a meter of 10/11/10/11 syllables
+[-, -, śuddhodaññe//] +(608b3). +

+ + +
+

+śunyāṃ* +(n.) +‘empty place; non-existence’ (?)
+[-, -, śunyāṃ//] +/// śunyāṃ aikareṃ kaṣ/// (581b4). +∎If from BHS śūnya-. +

+ + +
+

+śetko +‘?’
+///ṣṣa śetko lyūke wmer [r]a (242b3). +

+ + +
+

+śeme +(n.) +a kind of edible
+[śeme, -, -//] +patsaṃ śeme steṃ kwrarāk arkwañai śeśuwermeṃ (ST-a5). +

+ + +
+

+śer- +(vt.) +‘hunt’
+Ko. IV /śeri-/ [Inf. śeritisi] +wayā-ne śerwe wartone maitar śerītsi ‘he led him [as] a hunter; into the forest they went to hunt’ (44a2), sū no śeritsi lac omte wartone śarabhe ‘he went out to hunt there in the forest the śarabha’ (358a2). +∎A denominative verb, (as if) PIE g^whērwe-ye/o-) from śerwe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śeriye +(n.) +‘± wax, honeycomb’ (?)
+[śeriye, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients (W-40a4). +‣The meaning suggested comes from the possibility of an etymological connection of this word with pan-Greek kērós ‘wax,’ and particularly kēríon ‘honeycomb’ and Lithuanian korýs ‘id.’ if the latter's apparent PIE *-ā- is a Baltic development of *-ē- (as the Greek suggests). +

+ + +
+

+śerkw +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cord, string’
+[śerk(w), -, śerk(w)//-, -, śārkwa (?)] +wamer ramt śerkne st[mau]sai kektseñ lkāṣṣäṃ ‘he sees the body as a jewel standing on a cord’ [wamer śerkne stmausai = BHS maṇisūtravat] (41b6/7), kwri no sanaṃ päknāträ ostmeṃ lyutsi ... yertṣe śerk śamaṣle ‘if, however, one intends to drive an enemy from [his] home ... a cord of yerta [is] to be bound’ (M-3a8), śarkwāsa ṣṭallaṣallesa mäskeṃtär po krentauna ‘with cords by astringing all virtues appear’ (W-2b1). +∎(As if) from PIE *kērg-wo- (nt.), a derivative of *kerg- (see ²kärk-) --cf. VW, 1949:302, 1976:479. Cf. TchA śorkmi ‘± strings’ (Hilmarsson, 1986a:128). +

+ + +
+

+śerwe +(nm.) +‘hunter’
+[śerwe, -, -//-, -, śeruweṃ] +wayā-ne śerwe wartone maitar śerītsi | k_uce śerwe śak kauṃ lwāsa kautsi nauṣ mā campi ‘he led him [as] a hunter; into the forest they went to hunt; what animals ten days earlier the hunter could not kill’ (44a2), kr_ui [kreñc o]nolmi tällān-ne onkolma ra śeruweṃ ‘if good beings support it as a she-elephant [supports] hunters’ (255a6/7). + -- śerwäññe ‘± prtng to a hunter’ (?) (70a8) +∎TchA śaru and B śerwe probably reflect PTch *śerwe from PIE *ǵ^hwēr- ‘wild animal’ + later *-wo- [: Latin ferus ‘wild,’ Lithuanian žvėris ‘wild beast,’ Greek thēr ‘wild animal’ (P:493; MA:23)] (Belardi, Ricerche Linguistiche 3:110 [1954], apud VW:478-479, though differing on the derivational relationship of śerwe and cer-). Otherwise Pisani (in Evangelisti 1949:145, also Normier, 1980:254) who derives it from a PIE *g^wērwo- (cf. Latin verū ‘dart, javelin,’ Gothic qairu) or Nussbaum (1986:8) who derives it from ḱērw-o- ‘he of the stag,’ from *ḱ(e)r(e)u- ‘horn.’ +See also śer-. +

+ + +
+

+śai- +See śāw-. +

+ + +
+

+śaikṣe* +(n.) +‘one who undertakes religious disciplines; disciple’
+[//śaikṣi, -, -] +(86b). +∎From BHS śaikṣa-. +See also aśaikṣe. +

+ + +
+

+śaiyye +(n.) +‘sheep/goat’ (perhaps any smaller herd animal)
+[śaiyye, -, -//-, -, śānta] +śānta warkāre ysañiye yok tāka ‘they sheared the sheep, golden was the fleece’ (452a1), śaiyye = BHS paśu [in the calendrical cycle] (549a5), alyaik no kraupanträ śānta kewäṃ śaitsisa ‘others however herd sheep and cattle for a living’ (H-149-ADD.28a5 [Thomas, 1954:756]). +∎From PTch *śāw'ye-, PIE *g^wyeh₃w-yo- (see śāw-), and exactly equivalent to Greek zō(i)on ‘animal’ (Pisani, Reale Istituto Lombardo di Scienze e Lettere 76:29 [1942-43] apud VW:468; MA:23). PTch *śāw'ye- gives TchA śāyu (unknown animal species) regularly, though with different semantic specialization. TchB śānta reflects PTch *śāwentā, a neuter plural participle from śāw-, q.v. +See also śāw-/śāy- and perhaps ṣaiyyiśke. +

+ + +
+

+śaileyak +(n.) +‘bitumen, benzoin’ (a medical ingredient)
+[śaileyak, -, -//] +(W pasim). +∎From BHS śaileyaka-. +

+ + +
+

+śaiṣṣe +(nm.) +‘world; people’ (in generic contexts ‘people’ and ‘world’ may be interchangeable)
+[śaiṣṣe, śaiṣṣentse, śaiṣṣe//śaiṣṣi, śaiṣṣeṃts, śaiṣṣeṃ] +pelaikni [po] śaiṣṣents=ānaiwacci ... toṃ mā tākoṃ śaiṣṣene mā nke tsanko[y] pudñäkte ‘unwished for laws for the whole world ... [if] these did not exist in the world, the Buddha then would not arise’ (5a5/6), ñäkcye ... śaiṣṣene = BHS svarge (14a6), śaiṣṣene = BHS loke (14a7), śateñ wnolmi cai mā śaiṣṣe kca ynāñm yā[m]oṣ ‘these rich beings who deem no people worthy’ (24a3), po śaiṣṣe mā ṣäṃṣy[e]nträ ‘they counted the whole world [as] nothing’ (24a5), trai śaiṣṣentso käṣṣi ‘the teacher of the three worlds’ (45a4), po śaiṣṣents[e] wewīnaṣṣoṣ ‘honored by the whole world’ (74b1), se śaiṣṣe = BHS jagat (148a4), ñäkcye śaiṣṣene = BHS devanikāye (198b6), śaiṣṣe tsälpastsī läklentameṃ ‘to free the world from sufferings’ (224b3), śtwerä śaiṣṣents säswe ‘the lord of the four worlds’ (571a3), śaiṣṣe se = BHS janoyam (H-149.242a2 [Couvreur, 1966:169]), śaiṣṣentse kṣāttre tatākau ‘he [has] become an umbrella for the world’ (K-9a6), śaiṣṣentse śle śāmñe ñäkteccepi = BHS jagataḥ sanarāmarasya (PK-NS-306/305 [Couvreur, 1970:177]). + -- śaiṣṣeṣṣe* ‘prtng to the world, worldly’: [śaiṣṣe]ṣṣeṃ skwanma ‘the fortunes of the world’ (14a8), waipeccenta śaiṣṣeṣṣana ‘worldly possessions’ (24b7). +∎Like TchA śoṣi ‘id.’ in origin a nominalized adjective, presupposing a PTch noun *śāw'ä (PIE *g^wyeh₃wih_a-?). Cf. Schneider, 1941a:38, Pedersen, 1941:262, VW:487. +See śāw-. +

+ + +
+

+śonaiṣṣe +See śconiye. +

+ + +
+

+śo(-)ñe +(n.) +name of an illness
+[śo(-)ñe, -, -//] +mamauñempa rittoṣ teki weskeṃ śo-ñe = BHS āmānvitaṃ tad viduṣa vadanti (Y-3b4). +‣Perhaps to be read śo[thä]ñe or śo[phä]ñe, +∎if from either BHS śotha- or śopha- both meaning ‘± morbid swelling.’ +

+ + +
+

+śokagār* +(n.) +‘grief-room; boudoir’
+[-, -, śokagār//] +tumeṃ walo ... śokagārne yopsa ‘then the king entered into [his] boudoir’ (99a1). +∎From BHS śokāgāra-. +

+ + +
+

+śodhäṃ* +(n.) +‘purgative’
+[//śodhan(än)ta, -, -] +[n]esäṃ mā [sātkenta] mā ṣälypenta śodhanta ‘there are no medicines, neither salves nor purgatives’ (17b4). +∎From BHS śodhana-. +

+ + +
+

+śopi(-) +‘?’
+///asta nautareṃ 4 śopi/// (584a6). +

+ + +
+

+śoliye* +(nf.) +‘hearth’
+[-, -, śoli//] +[mant] ... [mā-][ṣe]kaññaiṣṣai śoline tsäksenträ ‘so they burn in the hearth of inconstancy’ (153a2 =154b4). +∎(As if) from PIE *geul-u-h₁en- [: Old Irish gual ‘coal,’ OHG kolo (m.)/kol (n.), Old English col (m.) ‘(glowing) coal’ (P:399; MA:104)], or (with Isebaert, 1978b:345, or VW, 1984:483) a derivative of *ḱeu- ‘shine’ [: Avestan savahī ‘region of the east,’ Sanskrit śvaḥ ‘tomorrow,’ śoṇa- ‘red’ (P:594)]. Perhaps here too are to be put TchA śolyme an instrument of torture (VW, 1984) and TchA śolyāk ‘companion’ if the latter is to be analyzed as śoly + āk with an original meaning of something like ‘hearth-mate’ (otherwise for śolyāk VW, 1976:485). +

+ + +
+

+śow- +(vb.) +‘?’
+Ps. IV /śowo-/ [-, -, śowotär//] +/// ̇aul ̇ näktsī ṣärm ste śowotä[r] se /// (143a5). +

+ + +
+

+śośalñe +See kuk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+śoṣ +(n.) +‘pulmonary consumption, tuberculosis’
+[śoṣ, śoṣantse, -//] +kāswo świtär śoṣ tsärkalle ‘leprosy, leucodermy, tuberculosis, hemorrhage’ (ST-b5). +∎From BHS śoṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+śau- +See śāw-. +

+ + +
+

+śauk- +See kuk-¹. +

+ + +
+

+śaumo +(nm.) +‘person, man’ [with the same ambiguity as in English] (often as opposed to the gods)
+[śaumo, śaumontse, śaumoṃ//śāmna, śāmnaṃts, śāmna] +śaul attsaik totka śāmnaṃts ñke wrīyeṣṣe pältakwä atyaṃts a[k]entasa ‘the life of men is as short now [as] a droplet of water on the tips of grasses’ (3b3), śāmnaṃts = BHS puruṣa- (22a3), śāmnane = BHS nara- (30b4), ñakti śāmna tsälpāre piś toṃ cmelameṃ ‘the gods freed men from these five births’ (39b8), māka plyawāre ñakti śāmna ‘greatly did gods and men bewail [their fate]’ (45a3), śāmna caimp skente mā yakṣī ‘these are men, not yakṣas’ (85a3/4), t[e]-yäknesa śaumo sraukaṃ ‘in this way the person will die’ (163a2), jam[bu]dvipṣeṃ śāmnaṃtsä naumye y[s]ā[ṣṣe] ‘the golden jewel of the peoples of India’ (217a4), [papā]lau śāmnāṃts k_use poyśintse ptänmā śariräcc[e] p[attit] yamäṣäṃ ‘praised by men [is he] who builds a relic-holding pattit or stupas for the Buddha’ (257a2), śāmna[ts] = BHS manu ṣyāṇām (306a4), śaumoṃ ainakeṃ = BHS puru ṣādhama- (308a3), ñakti śāmna lāñc amācänta sārthavā[h]i ‘gods, men, kings, ministers, merchants’ (408a5), palskossu śaumo ‘thoughtful person’ (K-8a4). + -- śaumoṣṣe ‘prtng to a person’: krent śaumoṣṣe naumyempa eṣe ‘together with the good jewel of the people’ (PK-17.3b2 [Couvreur, 1954c:84]); +
+śamnāṣṣe* ‘prtng to people’: larona waipeccenta ṣañ śamnāṣ[ṣeṃts] ‘the precious possessions of his own people’ (46b4 [Thomas, 1983:218]). +∎TchA śoṃ ‘boy’ and B śaumo reflect PTch *śāumo, a derivative of śāw- ‘live,’ q.v., more particularly a deverbal adjective in -mo as ynamo ‘going,’ cämpamo ‘able,’ etc. (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:14, VW:486). The TchA meaning must be secondary. +See also śāw-, śamaśke, śāmñe, yśāmna, śaul, and ṣañ-śaumo. +

+ + +
+

+śaul +(nnt.) +‘life’
+[śaul, śaulantse, śaul//śaulanma, śaulanmaṃts, śaulanma] +k[e]ry[eṃ] kāñmeṃ spänteṃnträ onwaññe śaul ‘they laugh, play, and trust [in] immortal life’ (2b2), śaul ... śaulanma, both = BHS āyus (3a4), śaul śāmnaṃts ‘the life of men’ (3a6), śaultsa ‘for life’ [as a measure of time, = śaulu-wärñai] (5a3), śaul ñi lāre päst rinaṣle ‘my dear life [is] to be renounced’ (25a8), ñi śaul kektseñe ‘my life and body’ (46a4), tāṣtär [sic] pelaikne śaulanmasa käryau se ‘the law is established; it [has been] bought by lives’ (G-Su1), nraintane cmenträ solmeṃ omte śaul śāyeṃ ‘[if] they are [re]born in hells, they will live there [their] whole life’ (K-2b4). + -- śaulaṣṣe ‘prtng to life’: śaulaṣṣe meske ‘the juncture of life’ (372a1), [śau]l[aṣ]ṣai proskai ‘the fear of life’ (511b2); +
+śaulanmaṣṣe ‘prtng to lives’: śaulanmaṣṣe pitosa (204a3); +
+śaulassu ‘life-possessing’ (used as an honorific for Buddhist monks and other dignitaries--a calque on BHS āyuṣmat): śaulasw Ānande yopsa rīne ‘the worthy Ānanda entered the city’ (23b3), śaulassu nesy āñme tākaṃ-ne ‘[if] anyone has the desire to be revered’ (M-3b7); +
+śaula-preñca* ‘life-bearing’: /// śaula-preñcai sauśka [lege: soṃśka] ‘O life-bearing son!’ (83a4); +
+śaulu-wärñai ‘life-long, for [one's] whole life’: papāṣṣo[rñ= ā]str[e] cwi [paṣṣa]lle śaul-wa[r]ñ[ai] ‘moral behavior [is] to be practiced his whole life long’ (14a4), [u]pāsakeṃ ñäś peṅsa śaul-warñai saim ne[stsiśco ñi] ‘take me [as] a laybrother to be my life-long refuge’ (48b3), sanai ṣaryompa śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai ‘I will live for good with one lover for my whole life’ (496a3/4); +
+śaultsa warñai ‘id.’ (12a2). +∎TchA śol and B śaul reflect PTch *śāwl, a nominal derivative of śāw-, q.v. (As if) from PIE *ǵyeh₃w-l(o)- (nt.). +

+ + +
+

+śka +(a) (emphasizing particle); (b) (directional adverb) +(a) ‘indeed, immediately; also’, (b) ‘hither’ (?)
+ñiś ṣesketstse [ne]sau śka yatsi arka-ñ mā ṣ campau makte ka ṣ preke karsar śka kamp ‘I am alone; I should indeed go and I cannot; thou thyself [should] know the time and come immediately [or hither]’ (331b2/3), te śka pasāt tam śka pasāt ‘take this hither, take that hither’ (331b4), bauddheṃ siddhānmpa śka kantanoy[t]ä[r] /// (429a3), śka śem (434a2), śka plāwa ‘send [them] immediately’ [or ‘... hither’] (492a2), śka lyuwāsta ‘thou didst send them immediately’ [or ‘... hither’] (493a1), se śka klāte (579a2), mäkte samantatir sankrām pikwalañe śka anās erkatte ṣe-ñ ‘as my monastery S. was for many years miserable and detestable’ (DAM.507a2 [Pinault, 1984:24]), śak ṣukne ṣe ṣarmire śka śe[m] ‘on the seventeenth one novice also came’ (G-Su25C), Prajñāwarme śke [sic] śem (G-Qm10). +‣The meaning is uncertain. With verbs of motion it would seem natural to translate by ‘hither’ or ‘close to’ or the like (see Winter, 1984b) but there are cases (such as DAM.507a2) where such a meaning seems most unlikely and the traditionally ascribed meaning (some kind of intensifier) seems more reasonable. +∎Etymology obscure. If it is an intensifier only it would seem natural to relate śka to TchA śkā of the same meaning. VW supposes (1941:132, 1976:482) that they are inherited and from PIE *k^we + *k^weh_a. Otherwise Winter (1984b) who offers no etymology for B śka and takes A śkā to be the perlative of the same noun from which śkaṃ ‘and’ is the locative. The underlying noun would be something like ‘(proper) sequence’ and be related to Latin decus. On the other hand one could also suppose that either śka or śkā or both were borrowed from Khotanese śka of similar meaning. +

+ + +
+

+śkante +(adj.) +‘tenth’
+[m: śkante, -, śkañce//] [f: śkañca, -, śkañcai//] +śkänte toṃ skwänmane ‘the tenth in these good fortunes’ (128a4), yakwe pikulne śkañce meṃne ‘in the tenth month of the horse year’ (G-Su34.1). + -- śkante-pinkte* ‘fifteenth’: śkäñce-pinkce kauṃ ‘on the fifteenth day’ (37a1); +
+śkante-ñunte ‘nineteenth.’ +∎A derivative of śak, q.v. From PIE *deḱṃto- (MA:403). +

+ + +
+

+śkanno* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, śkanno//] +etsuwai śkannomeṃ (531b3). +

+ + +
+

+śka-maiyya +(n.) +‘one possessing ten-powers’ (epithet of the Buddha)
+[śka-maiyya, śka-maiyyantse, śka-maiyyai//] +ci wināskau śkä-maiyyai ‘I honor thee, the ten-powered one’ [or: ‘... O ten-powered one!’] (252a3), śka-maiyyantse yarke ‘the praise of the ten-powered one’ (405a1), Kauṇḍinye śka-maiyya käṣṣī śaiṣṣentse ‘K., the ten-powered teacher of the world’ (AMB-a1). +∎A compound of śak + maiyya. A calque on BHS daśabala-. +

+ + +
+

+śkār +(distributive numeral) +‘by ten’
+śkar śkār ṣaṃṣtär ‘it is counted ten by ten’ (41a8). +∎From śak ‘ten,’ q.v., + the distributive suffix -ār. +

+ + +
+

+śke +(G-Qm10) +See śka. +

+ + +
+

+śkwarya +(nf.) +‘(creeping) tendril; creeper, liana’
+[śkwarya, -, śkwaryai//] +śkwaryai = BHS latāṃ (11a5), enenmeṃ sā_u tsänkausa śkwarya tākaṃ ‘[if] he is like a tendril that has arisen from within’ [= BHS latā] (11a8). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (482) who attaches it to Sanskrit sájati ‘adhere,’ etc. +

+ + +
+

+śkwaśko +(n.) +‘barberry’ [Berberis aristata DC, aka B. asiatica Roxb. ex DC]
+[śkwaśko, -, //] +In lists of medical ingredients, e.g. 500a6 (= BHS dārvī, Khotanese ysālva). +‣For the semantic identification, see Maue (1990). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+-śc +dative ending/postposition. +∎Just as the PTch perlative plural *-ns-ā was re-analyzed as *-n-sā when the simplification of final *-ns left the non-perlative plural ending -n (Klingenschmitt, 1975:156), so the dative plural *-ns-cä was re-analyzed as -n-scä (or already *-n-ścä). Again, just as with the reshaped *-sā, the reshaped *-ścä was then added to singular and dual forms as well. The *-cä of Proto-Tocharian *-ns-cä reflects the same -de postposed to an accusative as seen in Greek oikonde ‘to the house’ or Athēnaze [= Athēnas-de] ‘towards Athens’ or the Avestan vaēsman-da ‘towards the dwelling.’ +

+ + +
+

+ścakate +(n.) +‘?’
+[ścakate, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients (P-2a6). +

+ + +
+

+ś(c)änm- +(vt.) +‘bind [something] (up/together), tie [something] into a bundle; bind [something] on; establish; proclaim; produce [of fruit]’
+Ps. Xb /ścämnäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, śanmästar, śanmästär//-, śanmästär, -; APart. śamnäṣṣeñca; Ger. śanmäṣṣälle]; K. Xb /ścämnäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Opt. -, -, śanmäṣṣi//; Inf. śanmäs(t)si]; Pt. II /ścānmyā-/ [-, -, śāmnya//-, -, śāmnyare; MP -, śāmnyatai, -//]; PP /śceścänmo-/ +cau tär[k]nāmane śanmästrä ‘[one] releasing it [= evil word] is bound’ (19b8), yarke-peti-källauṣṣana śänmānma śanmästär ‘he binds on the fetters of praise, honor, and success’ (33a8), [tsu]wai śa[nmä]strä = BHS upanahyati (308b6), [ṣar po]kaine śänmäṣlye ‘[is] to be bound on the hand and arm’ (284b2), pälskoṣṣe cau Wemacitreṃ śanmäṣṣeñcai [maim-pälskoṣṣe prākreṃ] śanmausa ‘binding this thoughtful W, with the firm bond of meditation and thought’ (TEB-58-21); walo cew enkormeṃ pyāśi-ne [śa]nmäṣṣi-ne [= BHS badhnīyād] wat ‘the king having seized it, may he strike it or bind it’ (H-149-ADD.8a4 [Thomas, 1974:102]); [śa]nmausa śānmyatai prākre ‘thou hast been bound strongly by the fetters’ (83a2), hor vyākaraṃ saṃvatsarajñāṃtsa wa[rñ]ai śas[ta]rma śāmnyare ‘they created the treatises concerning the science of the year, grammar, and the horoscope, etc.’ (PK-AS-16.3a4 [Pinault, 1989:157]), sānk kraupäṣṣa ce śikṣapāt śāmnya ‘he gathered the community and established this precept’ (PK-AS-18B-a3 [Pinault, 1984b:376-7]); mäkte meski śeśś[anmoṣ kokalentse] ... mant astāṣṣi meske tne ṣñor-passontsa śeśśanmoṣ ‘as the joints of the wagon [are] bound ... so [are] here the bone-joints bound by muscles and sinews’ (5b1/2), ṣärmänmasā śeśśänmoṣ ‘bound by [their] origins’ (295a4), oko śeśśanmu ra camel ‘birth [is] like fruit being produced’ [= BHS phalabandhin-] (PK-NS-53b2 [Pinault, 1988]), /// mäntrākka śceśa[n]moṣä [= BHS prati-bhaddha-] erepate (TX-1a3 [Thomas, 1974:79]). + -- ś(c)anmäṣ-ṣälñe ‘± binding’: (164b1) +
+śeśśanmormeṃ: plewe śeśśä[nmormeṃ] = BHS kolaṃ-baddhvā (H-149.198a1 [Thomas, 1976b:107]). +∎The PP form śceśanmo- demonstrates that the underlying form of this verb is /ścänm-/, with an initial cluster, rather than /śänm-/ as heretofore presupposed, unless the initial śc- can be proven to be some sort of hypercorrection (see VW [477] and Hilmarsson [1991b:161-164] for etymologies based on /śänm-/). K. T. Schmidt (1994:228-229) connects this word with Sanskrit stambh- ‘make fast’ < PIE *stemb^h- [: Sanskrit stabhnāti ~ stabhnóti ~ stambhate ‘prop, support; hinder, restrain,’ Greek astemphēs ‘imperturbable,’ Lithuanian stem̃bti ‘Stengel ansetzen’ (P:1012-1013; MA:543)]. Though basing himself on /śänm-/, Hilmarsson cogently discusses the morphology of this verb. The historical form is, of course, *śämn- (śänm- arises by regular metathesis in TchB) and the -n- reflects a reassignment of the stem-formative of the non-causative present to the root. Originally we must have had a paradigmatic array like that of kärs- ‘know’; namely, non-causative present *stämnā- (replaced by *ścämnā- as witnessed by śanmau ‘bond,’ q.v.), preterite *ścämā-, causative present *ścämäsk-, preterite *ścāmā-. The extension of the -n- may have been promoted by the desire better to distinguish the paradigms of this verb and that of stäm- ‘stand’ (see s.v. käly-). +See also śanmau. +

+ + +
+

+ścīre +(adj.) +‘hard; harsh (of words)’
+[m: ścīre, -, ścireṃ//ścireñ, -, ścirenäṃ f: //ścirona, -, ścirona] +ścirona rekaunasa skärrāmane ‘scolding with harsh words’ (85b5/6), auntsante-ne ścīre makästsi ‘they began to chase him hard’ (88a2), ṣcīre [sic] papāṣṣorñe ‘harsh behavior’ (341a5), kerteṃ yamamtär ścirona ṣñārä ‘we will make our own sharp swords’ (404a5), ścireñ kektseñtsa ‘harsh of body’ (K-7b4), śireṃ yepesa ‘with a sharp knife’ (M-2a3), kwaräṣ raiweṃ sticce yamaṣṣäṃ śireṃ prakreṃ tesa wärñai ‘it causes a stool sluggish and slow, hard and strong’ (ST-a2). +∎From PTch *ścärēn-, (as if) from PIE *ster-eh₁-en- [: Greek stereós ‘solid, firm, strong,’ TchA ṣtare ‘effort’ (< *storo-), Old Norse starr ‘stiff, rigid, hard,’ Old Norse stara, Old English starian, OHG starēn ‘stare (at),’ Old Prussian stūrnawiskan ‘earnestness,’ Russian starátьsja ‘exert oneself, strive,’ etc. (P:1022-1023; MA:547)] (Pedersen, 1925:38, also VW:482, though differing in details). +

+ + +
+

+ścirye +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘star’
+[śirye-, -, -//ściri, ściriṃts, ściriṃ] +/// [k]auṃ meñ ściri po ‘sun, moon, all the stars’ (45b7), ścir[i]nts[o] ramt lyelyekuwa ‘illuminated as by the stars’ (73b1/2), ścirye ram no lyukemo ‘gleaming like a star’ (74a1), yaṣine meñantse ściriṃts läktsauña ‘the light of the moon and stars in the night’ (154b2), nano tapakiṣṣe yerpesa tarya śiriṃ lkāṣṣiṃ ‘again may he see three stars by means of the mirror-orb’ (H-149.42a4 [Thomas, 1986:119]). +∎TchA śre* (nom. pl. śreñ) and B ścirye reflect a PTch *ścär-iye-. The obvious relationship of this Tocharian pair with Greek astēr ‘star’ (also teírea ‘the stars’), Hittite hastēr-, Sanskrit (instr. pl.) stṛbhiḥ, (nom. pl. m.) tāraḥ, Latin stēlla (< Italic *stērolā-) ‘star,’ Middle Irish ser, Breton sterenn, Welsh seren (pl. ser), Gothic staírnō, etc. (P:1027-1028; MA:543) would seem evident (Feist, 1913:268, VW:489). All are from a PIE *h₂h_xstēr ‘star’ with different reductions of the complex word initial cluster. The word is a originally a derivative of *h₂eh_x-s- ‘burn’ (cf. Latin āra ‘sacrificial fireplace, fire-alter,’ Hittite hassa- ‘fire-place, hearth, fire-altar’ from *h₂eh_x-s-eh_a-; an unenlarged *h₂eh_x- persists in Palaic hā- ‘be hot’) presumably meaning ‘± ember’ (the same semantic development is repeated in the history of Albanian where yll ‘star’ reflects PIE *h₁usli- ‘ember’ preserved in Old English ysl(e) ‘ember’ (Adams, 1995:207-211; cf. MA:543). +See also astare. +

+ + +
+

+śceścamor +See käly-. +

+ + +
+

+śconiye ~ ścono +(n.) +‘enmity’
+[śconiye, -, śconai//-, -, śconaṃ] +somo śconaimeṃ | wnolme sla[nktär kleśanmats] ‘he alone pulls the being out of the enmity of the kleśas’ (29b1), wer ścon=arṣāklaine ‘hate and enmity against the snake’ (42a5), ścono mā kauṣn aknātsaṃñ[e] ‘enmity does not kill ignorance’ (A-2a3), mā wer śono wṣi-ñä ‘may hatred and enmity not dwell with me’ (S-4b3). + -- śconaitstse ‘having enmity’ (518b5); +
+śconaiṣṣe* ‘prtng to enmity’: śonaiṣṣe [sic] wse nekasta ‘thou didst destroy the poison of enmity’ (204b3/4). +∎(As if) from PIE *steudnih₁en- ‘coldness’ [: OCS studь ‘cold,’ and other more distant cognates without the *-d- (P:1035)] (VW:483). The semantic development *‘coldness’ > ‘enmity’ seems unexceptional. +See also ośonai. +

+ + +
+

+ścmoñña +(nf.) +‘place; basis, foundation’
+[ścmoñña, -, ścmoññai//] +ymentse śmoññaṃ[ne] = BHS upasthāna- (10b8), ścmoñña aiśamñentse ‘the place/basis of wisdom’ (73b3), k_use mā kalloy ce-yknesa ymetse śmoṃññai ‘whoever may not achieve in this way the basis of consciousness’ (278b1), kwīpe-onmiṣṣeṃ pwārasa tsaksau śmoññai śaulaṣṣai ‘with the fires of shame and remorse I burn the reverend place’ (TEB-64-10). + -- ścmoññaṣṣe ‘prtng to a basis’: [yme]ntse śmoññaṣṣeṃ śtwer pekwentsa wawārpaṣ ‘having put on the four rings of the basis of consciousness’ (244a3), ymentse śmoñaṣṣe [pekwe] ‘the ring of the basis of consciousness’ (TEB-58-13). +∎Cognate with A śmoññe with the same meaning (Winter, at least, considers the TchA to be a borrowing from B [1961:277]). A derivative of stäm-, q.v. (Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:11, VW:483-484). (As if) from PIE *stemb^h-ūnyeh_a-. Hilmarsson (1986a:45) would take this word from a PTch *ścämewọ> (pret. part. m. nom. sg.) + -ñña, which would work phonologically but is morphologically difficult in that the attested preterite participle is stmau (or causative śceśc(ä)mu-). +

+ + +
+

+śtana(-) +‘?’
+In a medical formula (497a3). +

+ + +
+

+śtarte +(adj.) +‘fourth’
+[m: śtarte, śtärcepi, śtarce (~ śtarceṃ)//] [f: śtarca, -, -//] +meñe śtarte ‘the fourth month’ (484a4), śak kṣuṃntsa [] śtarce meṃmne ‘in the tenth regnal period, in the fourth month’ (LP-1a6), śtarce-kaunaṣṣepi kapilletse sātke ‘a remedy for the fourth day fever’ (P-1b1). +∎Derived from śtwer, q.v. (as if) from PIE *k^weturto- [: Sanskrit caturthá- or Latvian cetur̃taĩs, more distantly Greek tétartos (Boeotian pétartos), Latin quārtus (< *quatwurto-), Lithuanian ketvir̃tas, OHG fiordo, Old English fēorδa, etc. (P:643; MA:401)] (Meillet, 1911-12:287, VW:489, Winter, 1991:136, with differing details). +

+ + +
+

+śtorwe +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: śtorwe, -, -//] [f: //śtorwana, -, -] +k_uce śtorwe śno [or k_uce śtorweś no?] (BrMus-b4), śtorwanā rakṣātsana ṣeṃ (BrMus-b4). +

+ + +
+

+śtwarātse +(adj.) +‘fourfold’
+[m: śtwarātse, -, -//] [f: -, -, śtwarātsai//śtwarātsana, -, -] +śtwarātsai ytā[ri] ‘the fourfold way’/// (153a6). +∎Derived from śtwer. +

+ + +
+

+śtwāra +See śtwer. +

+ + +
+

+śtwārka +(number) +‘forty’
+śtwārka wṣeññaṃne wsaskeṃ ‘they dwell in forty places’ (45b4). + -- śtwārka-yṣiṣṣe ‘of forty nights’: sankameṃ śtvārka-yṣiṣṣe plāki yaskaskemar parna simtsa yatsi ‘from the community I ask permission to go outside the border for forty nights’ (H-149-ADD.19b5 [Thomas, 1954: 737]); +
+śtwārka-tmane ‘40,000’ (252b2). +∎A derivative of śtwer, q.v., early PTch *śtwerkā. Cf. TchA śtwarāk. +See the discussion at taryaka. +

+ + +
+

+śtwer +(number) +‘four’
+[m: śtwer] [f: śtwāra] +[śtwe]r = BHS catvāro (173a7), śwer-meñantse-ne ‘on the fourth of the month’ (433a15), ikäṃ-śwerne ‘on the twenty-fourth [day]’ (G-Su7), śtwer meñtsa = BHS cāturmāsikā ‘occurring every fourth month’ (H-149.X.3a2 [Couvreur, 1954b:47]), śtwāra = BHS catasro (H-149.242 [Couvreur, 1966:169]), śtwer oksaiṃ śtwer te parra ptārka ‘four oxen, four, let it pass’ (LP-2a1.1). + -- śtwarā-yakne ‘fourfold’: /// śtwarā-yäkne welyñe ñiś weñim ‘I may not say the fourfold saying’ (S-2a4); +
+śtwāra-känte ‘400’: śwāra-känte pik[wala] ‘400 years’ (429a1); +
+śtwāra-yältse ‘4,000.’ +∎TchA śtwar and B śtwer reflect PTch *ś(ä)twer form PIE *k^wetwores [: Sanskrit catvāras (m.), Avestan čaθwārō, Armenian čork^c, Homeric Greek téssares (Attic téttares), Latin quattuor, Old Irish cethair, Gothic fidwōr, Lithuanian keturì, OCS četyre (m.), etc. (P:642-643; MA:401)] (Smith, 1910:16-7, VW:489). The B feminine represents an analogical (early) PTch *śätwerā (replacing the very irregular PIE *k^wetes(o)r-). +See also śtwārka, śtarte, śtwarātstse, śtwerār, and śtwerpew. +

+ + +
+

+śtwerār +(distributive) +‘by fours’
+K. T. Schmidt, 1985:766, fn. 12 (śwerār). +∎From śtwer ‘four,’ q.v., + the distributive suffix -ār. One might have expected *śtwarār with ā-umlaut. +

+ + +
+

+Śtweruṃ(-) +(n.) +‘Śtweruṃ(-)’ (PN)
+[Śtweruṃ(-), -, -//] +ce ānk Śtweruṃ(-) paiykāte ‘this anga has Ś. written’ (H-149.40b8 [Thomas, 1970:92]). +

+ + +
+

+śtwer-pew * +(n.) +‘animal’ or (adj.) ‘four-footed’ (?)
+[-, -, śwer-pewä//] +lyakäṃ kraupträ snai-pewaṃ wi-pewaṃ śtwer-pewaṃ makā-pewaṃ ‘he gathers the thieves, the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, the many-footed’ (H-149- ADD.8b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:93]). +∎(As if) from PIE *k^wetwor-podwont- ‘four-footed’ (MA:23). +

+ + +
+

+śnāsk- +(vt.) +‘release’ (?)
+Ko. VI /śänāsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. śnās(t)si] +yärkeṣṣe warkṣäl śnāssi mā cämpya ‘he couldn't release the power of praise’ (405b7). +‣Compare A (399a6) (/// wsokone ṣiṃ wärk ṣälyo śkā śināssi cämpäṣ). +∎From PTch *śināsk- (present and subjunctive alike), from PIE *kih_x-new- [: Greek kínumai ‘I go, move’ and kinéō ‘I set in motion,’ and morphologically more distant, Greek kíō ‘go away, travel,’ Latin cieō ‘set in motion,’ Albanian qoj (< *ki(h_x)-eh_aye/o-) ‘awaken’ (P:538-539)] by transfer from the new-class (extinct in Tocharian) to the neh_a-class. Otherwise VW (479-480)--from *ǵ^hwenā-. +See also śä-. +

+ + +
+

+śpālaññe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: -, -, śpālaññe//] +Jñānakupte śpālaññe m/// (G-Su11). +‣Related somehow to śpālu*, etc.? +

+ + +
+

+śpālu* +(adj.) +‘superior, excellent’
+[//-, śāluwentaṃts, -] +śpaluwentats ywa/// (91b2). +∎A derivative (PIE *-went-) from PTch *śpāl (gender uncertain) ‘head’ preserved as such in Tocharian A. The Tocharian forms are descendants of PIE *g^heb^h-(e)l- ‘head’ [: Greek kephalē ‘head,’ Gothic gibla ‘gable, pinnacle,’ OHG gibil (m.) ‘gable,’ gebal (m.) ‘cranium, head,’ Old Norse gafle (m.) ‘gableside, point of an island’ (P:423; MA:260)] (Schulze, 1923, VW:488). VW cogently suggests *g^heb^hōl (a nominative singular) as the preform of PTch *śpāl. Alternatively one might reconstruct with Lubotsky (1988:142) *g^héb^hh_al-om (Tch) ~ *g^heb^hh_al-éh_a- (Greek). +See also śpālmeṃ and śpālmäññe. +

+ + +
+

+śpālmäññe +(n.) +‘excellence’
+[śpālmäññe, -, śpālmäññe//] +///^.k^,ts^. [possibly a genitive] śpalmañesa yaṃ (185b2), t[e]-mant vipāk spārttässine cetaṃtse śpalmäññe ste (200a5). +∎From śpālmeṃ, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śpālmeṃ +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘superior, excellent’
+śpālmeṃ ślokanma ‘excellent strophes’ (5b7), = BHS uttama- (20b1), = BHS agra- (30b4), pälskoṣṣi śpālmeṃ ckenta ‘excellent rivers of thought’ (73b4=75b1), śpālmeṃ śaumoṃno = BHS utta[mapuruṣam] (308a4), = BHS śreṣṭha- (308b1), posa śpālmeṃ yarke ‘most excellent honor’ (358b4), śpālmeṃ tsārane ‘in an excellent monastery’ (421.1b), śpālmeṃ aiśeñca = Pali paroparajña (547a5), weñentänne posa śpālmeṃ ‘better than any other among the intercessors’ (K-3b1), yasarsa saitsi śpālmeṃ ‘to stanch well the blood’ (P-2a4), wi-ppewänne kṣattaryi śpālmeṃ ‘the kshatriyas [are] the best of two-footed [beings]’ (PK-AS-16.2a1 [Pinault, 1989:154]). + -- śpalmeṃtse* ‘excellent’: pernerñempa śpalmeṃñce ‘with excellent glory’ (205a4). +∎In origin an ablative of śpāl* ‘head.’ The latter is preserved as such only in Tocharian A. +See also śpālu and śpālmäññe. +

+ + +
+

+śmaśānike +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘one who frequents cemeteries, cremation grounds’
+[śmaśānike, śmaśānikentse, -//] +(559 passim). +∎From BHS śmaśānika-. +

+ + +
+

+śmalyñe +See käm-. +

+ + +
+

+śmā( ̇)n- +(n.) +‘?’
+/// [s]w[a]rauññe śmā( ̇) ̇n ̇ papeku/// (163b4). +

+ + +
+

+śmur +See smur. +

+ + +
+

+śmoñña +See ścmoñña. +

+ + +
+

+śraddhatāk* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘a donor at the ceremony honoring deceased relatives’
+[-, -, śraddhatāk//] +(292a3, 412b2). +∎BHS śraddhadāka-. +

+ + +
+

+śraddhauññe* +(n.) +‘belief, faith’
+[-, śraddhauññentse, śraddhauññe//] +(200a3, S-7b5). + -- śraddhauññeṣṣe ‘prtng to belief or faith’: (600a2). +∎A derivative of śrāddhe, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śraddhavārgṣe* +(adj.) +‘pertaining to the śraddhavarga’
+[m: -, -, śraddhavārgṣe//] +(S-3b4). +∎From an assumed TchB *Śraddhavārg from BHS śraddhavarga-. +

+ + +
+

+Śramaṇavārg* +(n.) +‘Śramaṇavarga’ (the eleventh chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, Śramaṇavārgäntse, Śramaṇavārg//] +(S-3b6). +∎From BHS śramaṇa-varga-. +

+ + +
+

+śrāṃ* +(n.) +‘refuge’
+[-, -, śrāṃ//-, -, śrān(än)ta] +soy mañīye yamäṣeñca rekisa | śana al[e]cce śrān (128a3), pācer saim-wästa śrāṃ yā[tä]ssi epastyu (244b2). +‣A variant of śarāṃ, q.v. +∎From BHS śaraṇa-. +

+ + +
+

+śrāddhe +(adj.) +‘believing;’ (n.) ‘believer’
+[m: śrāddhe, -, śrāddheṃ//śraddheñ, śraddhenäṃts, -] +śraddhe[näts n]auske kälāṣn arañcne ‘he brings to the believers a depression in [their] hearts’ (15b1=17b2/3), kameṃ śr[a]ddh[e]ño Śrāvasti-riṣṣi upāsaki ‘there came believers and laybrothers from Ś.’ (17a3), śrāddhe tākoy ślek [k]wipassu | āyor aiṣṣeñca ‘he must be believing/a believer, likewise modest and a giver of gifts’ (23a4), śrāddheṃ aśrāddheṃśc ‘to the believer and the unbeliever’ (337b2). +∎From BHS śraddha-. +See also aśrāddhe. +

+ + +
+

+śrāñ* +(adj.[pl.]) +‘± old [of people]’
+[//śrāñ*, śrānäṃts, śrānäṃ] +kausa-ñ śrānäṃ wetāntäṃ ‘he killed for me the old warriors’ (22a1), śrāy [lege: śrāñ?] wetāñco etri ‘old warriors and heroes’ (47a8), mā su mäsketär śrānäts ‘this [medicine] will not [work] for old people’ (FS-b3 [Couvreur, 1954a:223]). +∎If the meaning has been identified correctly, it is probably from PTch *śärān- from PIE *ger(h_a)ōn- [: Greek geront-, Sanskrit járant- (P:390-391; MA: 248, 409), more s.v. kwär-]. Less likely is VW's connection (488) with *ster- (cf. Latin strēnuus). +See also possibly kwär-. +

+ + +
+

+Śrāvasti* +(n.) +‘Śrāvastī’ (PN of capital of Kosala)
+[-, -, Śrāvasti//] +(337a4). +

+ + +
+

+śrāwaṃ +See śāwaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+śrigupti* +(n.) +‘refuge’
+[-, -, śrigupti//] +cine yāmu śrigupti ‘one who has taken refuge in thee’ (TEB-64-12). +∎From BHS śrīgupti-. +

+ + +
+

+Śrīñäkte¹ +(n.) +‘Śrī, (the goddess) Fortuna’
+[Śrīñäkte, Śrīñäktentse, Śrīñäkt[e] +//] (14a8). +See śrīṃñäkte*². +

+ + +
+

+śrīṃñäkte*² +(n.) +a meter of unknown syllabification and rhythm
+[-, -, śrīṃñäkte//] +(516a3). +∎A compound of śrī (< BHS śrī) and ñakte, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Śrīsaṃbhave +(n.) +‘Śrīsambhava’ (PN of an associate of Śrīmati)
+[Śrīsaṃbhave, -, Śrīmbhaveṃ//] +(74b2, Qumtura 34-g4 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+Śrutavārg* +(n.) +‘Śrutavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Śrutavārg//] +(S-5b3). +∎From BHS śrutavarga-. +

+ + +
+

+śruti +(n.) +‘(sacred) story’
+[śruti, -, -//] +śruti = BHS itivṛttka (547a6). +∎From BHS śruti-. +

+ + +
+

+Śreṣṭake* +(n.) +‘Śreṣṭhaka’ (PN of a rich merchant)
+[-, -, Śreṣṭhakeṃ//] +(22a6). +

+ + +
+

+śreṣṭhi +(n.) +‘(chief) merchant, distinguished man’
+[śreṣṭhi, śreṣṭhintse, śreṣṭhiṃ//] +(375a4). +∎From BHS śreṣṭhin-. +

+ + +
+

+śro-kanti* +(n.) +a kind of bread
+[-, -, śro-kanti//] +śro-kant[i]ś yikṣye ‘flour for śro-kanti’ (433a16). +∎A compound of śro, of unknown meaning, and kanti ‘± bread,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+śroñi* +(n.) +‘the hips and loins; buttocks’
+[-, -, śroñi] +śroñine = BHS śroṇi- (Y-1a6). +∎From BHS śroṇi-. +

+ + +
+

+Ślacaṃndre +(n.) +‘Śīlacandra’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Ślacaṃndre, -, -//] +sankästere Ślacaṃndre śa[rsa] ‘the monastery-leader Ś. knows [it]’ (433a3). +

+ + +
+

+śle, ślek +See śale. +

+ + +
+

+ślok* +(nnt.) +‘śloka, strophe’
+[-, ślokantse, ślok/-, -, ślokanmi/-, ślokanmaṃts, ślokanma] +ślok ce weña ‘he spoke this strophe’ (5a7), ślok = BHS gātha- (547a5). +∎From BHS śloka-. +

+ + +
+

+śwā- +See śu-. +

+ + +
+

+śwāl* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘corpse’
+[-, -, śwāl//] +yokaiṣṣe śvāl ‘the corpse of thirst’ (295a7), [sa]khwa [sic] śvālmeṃ nirvvāṃṣṣeṃ ṣärmtsā śarīrntats (365b3). +∎From śu- ‘eat,’ q.v. Compare TchA śwāl ‘food.’ +See also śwālyai. +

+ + +
+

+śwālyai +(indeclinable adj./adv.) +‘right’ (as opposed to ‘left’)
+āntsene tañ śwālyai ‘on thy right shoulder’ (74b4), śwālyai ālyine ‘on the right palm’ (567a1). +∎The fossilized feminine accusative singular of the gerund śwālle ‘suitable for eating’ from śu-, q.v., since in Indian tradition the right hand was reserved for eating while the left was relegated to aiding less noble bodily functions. For the meaning and etymology, see Winter, 1985. A similar formation is to be seen in Khotanese where hvarandaa- ‘right hand’ is a derivative of hvar- ‘eat.’ +

+ + +
+

+śwātsi +(nnt.) +‘food’
+[śwātsi, śwātsintse, śwātsi//-, -, śwatsanma] +tam tot śwātsi star-ñ kauṃ ś[aitsiś] ‘this is sufficient food for me to live [for] a day’ (25a7), śwātsintse [= BHS anna-] (31a7), śwātsi yoktsi leki sāṃtke ‘food, drink, bed, and medicine’ (50b3), kest yokaisa memyoṣ wnolmi śwātsi yoktsiś | kawāṃñentär ‘tortured by hunger and thirst, beings desire food and drink’ (286b3), [śwā]tsi yoktsi ārwer yāmttsi omttsate ‘he began to prepare food and drink’ (375b1). + -- śwatsiṣṣe ‘prtng to food’: śwātsiṣṣe ime ‘the consciousness of food’ (431a1), kapyāre[ṃt]s śwasiṣṣe śwār[a] c[a]k[an]m[a] ‘for the workers foodstuffs, 4 cāks’ (462a2); +
+śwatsitstse* ‘provided with food’: śwatsicce o[stne] (?) = BHS sabhojane kule (H-149- ADD.7a5 [Thomas, 1954c:761]). +∎In origin the infinitive of śu-, ‘eat,’ q.v. Some of these examples may still have been felt as the infinitive ‘to eat’ and should have been so translated. +

+ + +
+

+świtär +(n.) +‘white leprosy, vitiligo’
+[świtär, -, -//] +kāswo świtär śoṣ tsärkalle (ST-b5). +∎From BHS śvitra-. +

+ + +
+

+śwerpew +See śtwerpew. +

+ + +
+

+śwele* +(n[m.sg.]) +‘bandage, dressing’
+[-, -, śwele//] +kenkäṃñe śwelesa [śänmaṣṣälle] ‘it [is] to be bound with a linen bandage’ (P-2a2), kampāsäṣṣe śwelesa śanmäṣälle ‘it [is] to be bound with a cotton bandage’ (P-2a6). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+ṣ +See ṣpä. +

+ + +
+

+ṣaṃṣäl* +(n.) +‘number, enumeration, calculation’
+[-, -, ṣaṃṣäl//] +snai ṣaṃṣl auntsate lwāsa kautsi su ‘he began to kill animals without number’ (44a3), patälwa snai ṣaṃṣäl snai yarmo ‘hells without number or measure’ (45a7), ṣamṣäl = BHS saṃkhyeta (H-149-ADD.8a3f.). +∎A derivative of ṣäṃṣ-, q.v.; (as if) from PIE *sems-e-lu- or the like. +

+ + +
+

+ṣank +(n.) +a wet or dry measure of volume ( ~̃ 1.1 ~ 1.2 liters or 1.2 ~ 1.3 quarts)
+[ṣank, -, -//ṣankäṃ [< *ṣankäñ], -, -] +kantiś yikṣye ok tom piś ṣankäṃ ‘flour for bread, eight tom, five ṣank’ (433a4), yṣiñe cokiś ṣalywe masa ṣank ywārtsa ‘for the night lamp went [out] a half ṣank of oil’ (451a2). +∎Despite the attractive phonological equation, this word is not a borrowing from Khotanese ṣṣaṃga-, since the latter is something on the order of 4 liters and the equivalent of four śiṃga, each of which approximately one liter. (The Khotanese ṣṣaṃga is the equivalent of BHS āḍhaka- (= 4 prastha-). Rather, both Khotanese śiṃga and Tocharian B ṣank are from Chinese shêng (Early Middle Chinese *çing) whose modern value was 1.035 liters, while the prastha- was 1.114 litres (Bailey, 1961:77, VW:640, Bailey, 1979:406). +See Further discussion of measures of capacity in Tocharian s.v. cāk. +

+ + +
+

+ṣankw*( +(n.) +‘throat, fauces’
+[//-, -,ṣänkwanma] [koynaṣṣana] +ṣäṅwanmameṃ särwānāṣṣe yerpemeṃ ‘from the fauces of the mouth, from the orb of the face’ (73a3). + -- ṣänkwaṣṣe* ‘prtng to the throat’: ṣänkwaṣai ṣäñ keṃsa malnaṣäñ-c reki ṣ ma raskre/// (247a3). +∎TchA ṣunk and B ṣankw reflect PTch *ṣänkw. (As if) from PIE *seng^wṇ (VW:465-466), a derivative of the verbal root *seng^w- [: Gothic sigqan, Old English sincan ‘sink,’ Armenian ankanim ‘fall’ (P:906)] (Krause, 1943:29). +

+ + +
+

+ṣañ +(a) ([indeclinable] adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘own’ (reflexive on the topic of the phrase or sentence); (b) ‘nature, characteristic’
+(a) tuyknesa ktsaitsñe srūka[lñ]e śaul kältsenträ wnolmentso ṣañ kalymiś akenne ‘in the same fashion old-age and death drive the life of beings to an end in [their] own direction’ (3a4), [o]lypo ṣañ ṣarsa kautoy ksa pat ‘rather by [his] own hand should he destroy such a stūpa’ (15b4=17b6), āṃtpiś kartse ṣañ śl=ālyenkäts ‘for the good of both [one's] self and of others’ (20b6), cau pilycalñe ṣañ rintsate ‘he let go this [his] own zeal’ (108a4), ṣañ oktaṃts ālambaṃ | BHS svoṣṭālambana (173a2), ṣañ = BHS sva (173a3), ṣañ indri = BHS svākṣaṃ (175b6), ṣañ ypoyntse salyai ‘the border of [his] own country’ (AMB-a6), k_use ṣamāne yasa ñkantesa warñai naumiyenta ṣañtsa enkasträ ‘whatever monk for [him]self takes jewels with gold and silver etc.’ (PK-AS-18A-a3 [Thomas, 1978a:239]), stām ṣañ pyapyaiṃtsa = BHS taruṃsvakusumair (PK-NS-414b4 [Couvreur, 1966:170]); +
+(b) mäkte ṣañ cwi pälskontse palskalñeṣṣe śak_usesa /// ‘as [is] the nature of this spirit, [so is] thought the brandy of mental conception’ (8b4). + -- ṣañäññe (adj.) ‘own’; (n.) ‘(true) character, nature’: k[ar]ts[a rano] kektseñe ramer slanktär ṣañäññe ‘however a good body shows quickly [its true] character’ (5b2/3), ṣaññe k_uśalamūltse te pkarsas ‘know this [as] the [true] character of the kuśamūla’ (41a4), ṣäññeṃ śāmnāṃnts eṅälyñe ‘the seizing of [his] own people’ (295a5), saṃsāräntse ṣäññäññe ptes tve ‘give the characteristic of the saṃsāra’ (295b4/5), [pe]laikneṃts rano ṣaññe ritormeṃ ‘having let go then the [true] character of the laws’ (597b5); +
+ṣäññäññeṣṣe (adj.) ‘own’: tserekwacce läṅwcene ṣäññäññeṣṣe akalksa (295a6), ṣäññäññeṣṣe maimtsā (295b7); +
+ṣäññäññetstse* ‘having a certain character/ characteristic’: takarṣkäṃñe ṣañäññecce = BHS prasā-danīya (541b8); +
+ṣñaṣṣe* ‘± relative’: cai ṣñaṣṣi ñiś märsāre ‘these [my] relatives/own people have forgotten me’ (TEB-63-01); +
+ṣañ-añm ‘[one]self’ (object form corres-ponding to the genitive ṣañ): ṣañ-añmtsa = BHS ātmana (11a7), wmolmi tallāñco nāksante ṣañ-añm ‘luckless beings blame [them]selves’ (15a5= 17a6), [ṣa]ñ-añm palāmai ñäś ‘I praised [my]self’ (46a5), mā su nt=ālyekäśco ṣañ-añm pällātär ‘no one ever praises [him]self to another’ (63a5), [kr_ui mā] ks=allek ñke ñi mlänkṣalle [lege: plänkṣalle] nesäṃ ṣañ-añm pläṅsemar ‘if I don't have anything else to sell, I sell [my]self’ (64a6); +
+ṣañ-śaumo (n.) ‘relative; retainer; follower’ (as to which translation is appropriate in many instances there is great ambiguity): karsnaṃ pärmank ṣañ-śāmnaṃts ‘he will cut off the hope of relatives’ (3b6), [po no] klinaṣṣäṃ ṣañ-śāmna rintsi ‘then must your retainers leave’ (8a2), āyor ṣañ-śaumo piś-cmelaṣṣeṃ[ts] ñyatsentane ‘a gift is a relative in the trials of those belonging to the five births’ (23b2), ṣañ-śāmna keś ptes twe ‘number [thy] followers’ (46a7), s_äsuwa tkātärñ ślek ṣañ-śāmna ‘sons and daughters, likewise relatives’ (220a3); +
+ṣañ-śamñeṣṣe ‘prtng to a relative, follower or retainer’ (46b4); +
+ṣañ-yāmorṣṣe: ṣañ- yāmorṣṣai ytārisa waiptār maiytar-ñ cai ṣñaṣṣi ñiś märsāre (TEB-63-01); +
+ṣña-nwalñeṣṣe* ‘self-proclaiming’: Cstmau ṣña-nwalñeṣṣepi Sumerntse mrācne ‘standing on the peak of self-proclaiming Sumer’ (TEB-58-19) +∎From PIE *s(e)we, rebuilt (as was the second person singular tañ) on the basis of the first person *m(e)ne, itself the result of dissimilation (as in Iranian and Slavic) from *m(e)me (for PIE personal pronouns, see Cowgill, 1965:169-170). The TchA form, ṣñi, is the same only with the addition of the common genitive ending -i. Differing only in details, Smith, 1910: 15, VW:457; (P:882; MA:455). +See also ṣñār, ṣñikek, and ṣñassu. +

+ + +
+

+ṣaḍap* +(n.) +the name of a meter of 4 X 12 syllables (rhythm 5/7)
+[-, -, ṣaḍap//] +(372b1). +

+ + +
+

+ṣaḍap-ṣalype-malkwer* +(n.) +the name of a meter of 4 X 18 syllables (rhythm 7/7/4)
+[-, -, ṣaḍap-ṣalype-malkwer//] +(107a2). +

+ + +
+

+ṣaḍāyataṃ +(n.) +‘the seats of the six organs or senses’
+[ṣaḍāyataṃ -, -//] +(151a3). +∎From BHS ṣaḍāyatana-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣaḍvargi* +(n.) +‘member of a particular group of (possibly heretical) Buddhist monks’
+[//ṣaḍvarginta, -, -] +ṣaḍvarginta karyor pito misko ailñe yamaṣyenträ ‘the ṣaḍvārgikas undertook buying, selling, trading, and inheriting’ (337a2). +∎From BHS ṣaḍvārgika-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣat +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘piece, sliver’
+[ṣat, -, -//] +madanaphalṣe ṣat twerene tsapanalle ... khadiräṣṣe ṣat twerene tsapanalle ‘a sliver of madanaphala [is] to be stuck in the door ... a sliver of khadira [is] to be stuck in the door’ (M-2a2), śāmñ-ayāṣṣe ṣat yamaṣälle sanatse yoñiyene tsapanalle maiyo kuletär-ne ‘a sliver of human bone is to stuck in the groin of [a representation of] the enemy; his power fades’ (M-2a4). +∎Perhaps from a PIE *seti- which would be compared with the isolated Avestan hāti- ‘piece, section’ (used as a technical term for the 72 chapters of the Yasna), reflecting PIE *sēti-. If so, the difference in ablaut is unexplained. VW (449) who proposes this explanation sees B ṣat as a borrowing from an unattested TchA **ṣat where the -a- would be of course the regular reflex of PIE *-ē-. Recourse to borrowing from A to B should, however, be resorted to sparingly, especially for so basic a word as ‘piece, sliver.’ +

+ + +
+

+ṣanmirāñca* +(n.) +‘novice (nun)’
+[-, -, ṣanmirāñcai//] +[ṣam]ā[n]e[nne] ////[n]e ṣanmīr[e] ṣanmirāñcaine ‘on a monk ... on a novice monk or novice nun’ (522b4). +∎From ṣanmire, q.v. + the feminine motion suffix -āñca. +

+ + +
+

+ṣanmire ~ ṣarmire +(n.) +‘novice (monk)’
+[ṣanmire, ṣanmirentse, ṣanmire//ṣanmiri, -, -] +se [lege: k_use] ṣamāne cwi ṣanmiretse [wṣe]ññai aiṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk gives to a novice a place’ (317b2), su ṣanmire ṣamāneṃts ‘this novice of the monks’ (318a1). + -- ṣanmīrñe* ‘state of being a novice, novitiate’ only in the derived adjective: ṣanmīrñeṣṣe: ‘prtng to the novitiate’: ṣamāññeṣṣe ṣanmīrñeṣṣe _upāsakñeṣṣe saṃvarne ‘in search of monkishness, the novitiate, or laybrotherhood’ (15a6/17a7). +∎From BHS śrāmaṇera-, cf. A ṣāmner. +See also ṣarmirśke. +

+ + +
+

+ṣap +(adv.) +‘more’
+te parra tārka tesa ṣap mā tärkanat ‘allow past this; more than this do not allow!’ (LP-12a2). +See ṣpä. +

+ + +
+

+ṣamāññe +(a) (n.); (b) (adj.) +(a) ‘state of being a monk’; (b) ‘pertaining to a monk, monkish, monastic’
+[n: ṣamāññe, -, ṣamāññe//] [adj. m: -, -, ṣamāññe//; f: /ṣamāññana, -, ṣamāññana] +(a) yku päst kreṃt ṣamāññemeṃ ṣañ oskai ‘having gone away from [his] good state of being a monk to [his] own house’ (44b6), ostmeṃ ltu k_use snai wīna ṣamāññe cpi waimene ‘whoever has left [his] house [i.e., has become a monk] without pleasure [in being a monk], for him being a monk is difficult’ (127b6), ṣamāññempa eraitwe cimpim palsko yātässi āstreṃ yāmtsi ‘may I be able, joined with monkishness, to tame [my] spirit and make it] pure’ (S-4a3); +
+(b) ṣamāṃñana krentaunaṃts yetwe ‘the jewel of monastic virtues’ (558b4). + -- ṣamāññeṣṣe ‘prtng to the state of being a monk’: ṣamāññeṣṣe ṣanmīrñeṣṣe _upāsakñeṣṣe saṃvarne ‘in search of monkishness, the novitiate, or laybrotherhood’ (15a6/17a7). +∎A derivative, both as adjective and then noun, of ṣamāne, q.v., + -ññe (i.e. ṣamānä-ññe). +

+ + +
+

+ṣamāne +(nm.) +‘monk’
+[ṣamāne, ṣamānentse, ṣamāneṃ//ṣamāni, -, ṣamāneṃ (voc. ṣamāni)] +ṣamyeṃ māka ṣamāni aplāc ‘many monks sat conversing’ (3a5), ṣamāne = BHS bhikṣu- (31a6), ṣamāni māka mraus[k]ān[t]e ‘many monks grew weary of the world’ (42a8), śwer meñtsa ka ṣamānentse kāko wärpanalle ste ‘for four months an invitation is to be enjoyed by a monk’ (331a2), [śakke]ññi ṣamāni makci naumīyenta pareṃ ‘Buddhist monks themselves are carrying/wearing jewels’ (337a1), ṣamān[e] = BHS māriṣa (541b7), kekenu ṣamāne = BHS gato bhikṣu (547a2), allekä ksa ṣamāne cew ostäścä piṃtwāt śem ‘another monk came to the house [for] alms’ (H-149-ADD.7b1 [Thomas, 1957:126]), yotkolau ṣamāne parra yaṃ caumpa kapyāri wi ‘the director monk passes through; with him two workers’ (LP-10a3/4). +∎From BHS śramaṇa-, or, more likely, some Prakrit equivalent. The word was borrowed from Tocharian widely throughout northern Asia, eventually being found in Tungus šaman, whence Russian šaman, German Schamane, and eventually English shaman. +See also ṣamāññe. +

+ + +
+

+ṣar* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘hand’
+[-, -, ṣar/-, -, ṣarne/] +lalaikarmeṃ ṣarne ‘having washed the hands’ (1a5), añcāl ṣarne ‘with hands folded’ (16b6), ṣañ ṣarsa kautoy ‘he may strike with [his] own hand’ (15b6=17b6), tane brāhmaṇi kerciyeṃne yaipormeṃ poñc ṣar koś ceccalorsa ka lānte yarke yamaskeṃ ‘now the brahmans, having entered the palace, by all raising [their] hand, do honor to the king’ (81b5), yakṣats ṣarnene taṣtar-ñ ‘thou puttest me in the hands of yakṣas’ (84a1), k_use ṣamāne ṣañ ṣarsa naumiy[e ta]lläṣṣäṃ ‘whatever monk holds jewels with [his] own hand’ (337a1), k_use sal ṣarne yāmu tākoy tesa nāṣṣi istak astare ‘whoever may have made [his] hands dirty should bathe with this; immediately [he is] clean’ (P-2b6), se pañäkte Sanketavantse ṣarsa papaiykau ‘this buddha [image] by the hand of S. [was] painted’ (unpubl. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1970:95]). +∎TchA tsar and B ṣar do not reconstruct to a single PTch preform. However, (pace VW:521) it is still most economical to see the two forms as reflexes of a single etymon. Both are usually taken as being descendants of PIE *ǵ^hesr- [: Albanian dorë, Greek kheír, Armenian jeṙn, Hittite kessar (P:447; MA:254)], e.g. Smith, 1910:17, Pedersen, 1941:236, Schindler, 1967[68]: 244-9. (VW:521 is an exception, taking tsar to be from *d^her- ‘hold’ and ṣar to be from *ser- ‘protect.’) The Albanian dorë (pl. duar) looks to be the reflex of the strong cases of an acrostatic paradigm with the singular from *ǵ^hēsrṃ (Huld's [1983] *ǵ^hēsreh_a seems unnecessary) and the plural from *ǵ^hēsres (cf. natë ‘night,’ net ‘nights’ from *nok^wtṃ and *nok^wtes respectively.) The agreement of the weak cases of Greek and Hittite (e.g. kheirí and /gissrí/ (Melchert, 1984: 106) from PIE *ǵ^hesrí), on the other hand, suggests an amphikinetic paradigm (*ǵ^hésōr/ ǵ^hesrí) or a hysterokinetic one (*ǵ^hesēr/ǵ^hesrí). The Greek strong cases (kheír, kheîra) are obviously analogical--but old, since kheîra = Armenian jeṙn. However, they support the hypothesis of a hysterokinetic paradigm (cf. the similarly rebuilt acc. sg. ándra beside [Homeric] anéra). The nom. sg. in Hittite, kessar-ssis (Melchert, loc. cit.) is attested only in Middle Hittite and thus may be also an innovation--but it also might reflect*ǵ^hésōr. Thus TchA tsar might be *ǵ^hesēr while B ṣar might be *ǵ^hesérṃ (B **ṣer from *ǵ^hesēr would have been awkwardly homophonous with ṣer ‘sister’). ts- and ṣ- would be two different resolutions of the early PTch cluster *čṣ-. Alternatively ṣar might be from *ǵ^hesrṃ (cf. pātär, mātär). See also Schindler's discussion (1967[1968]:244-249). +See also Schindler's discussion (1967[1968]:244-249). See also ṣarya. +

+ + +
+

+ṣartanīko* +(n.) +a meter of 10/10/10/11 syllables (rhythm: a-c: 6/4, d:5/6)
+[-, -, ṣartanīkai//] +(78a4). +

+ + +
+

+ṣarttaṣṣiññe * +(n.) +‘encouragement’ (?)
+[-, -, ṣarttaṣṣiññe//] +tentsa olyapotse ṣarttaṣṣiññe yāmtsi atameṃ mā rittetär (331b5). +‣An abstract noun from *ṣarttāṣṣe (i.e. ṣārttāṣṣ-äññe), derivative of ṣārtto? +

+ + +
+

+ṣarpṣūki +See ṣärp-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣarm +(nnt.) +‘motive, cause; origin, basis, ground’ (ṣarmtsa + gen. [less often ṣärmameṃ + acc.] = ‘because of, for the sake of’)
+[ṣarm, ṣärmantse, ṣarm//ṣärmana, ṣärmanmaṃts, ṣärmana ~ ṣarmna ~ ṣärmanma] +ṣarm = BHS hetu (11a4), ṣarm okone tserenträ [su t]n[e w]n[o]lm[eṃ] ‘in cause and effect it deceives here beings’ (11b2), käll[au]ntse ṣarmtsa ‘for the sake of gain’ (16b3), pokse-ñ nai saswa ṣarm cwi wäntrentse ‘tell me, then, O lord, the origin of this thing!’ (93b2), ṣärmämeṃ tsänkalyñe = BHS pratitya iti ca jñeya (148a3), e[r]sn[aṃ]ts ṣärmameṃ ‘on the ground of appearance’ (149a5), ṣärmameṃ = BHS pratyayaṃ (156a4), [pelai]knenta ṣarm oko skente ‘laws are cause and effect’ (180b3), ṣarmtsa wesäṃ ‘for our sake’ (585b4), cpi kreñcepi yāmorntse ṣärmtsa ‘because of this good deed’ (588b4), k_use ṣarm tūne ‘what is the origin in this?’ (K-6b3), tuntse ṣarmtsa ‘for this reason’ (K- 8b2), ṣärmanmā = BHS pratyayāḥ (TX-7-b6 [Thomas, 1974: 101]). + -- ṣärmassu* ‘original’ (?): ṣärmassont palskalñe ṣa[rpi] ‘may he explain this original thought’ (511a2). +∎TchA ṣurm and B ṣarm reflect PTch *ṣ(w')ärm. From PIE *s(w)ermṇ, the neuter equivalent of of Latin sermō (< PIE *s(w)ermon- (Pedersen, 1941:62, fn. 1, VW:466-7, Hilmarsson, 1986a:114). Whether this remarkable Latin-Tocharian word correspondence is to be equated with PIE *ser- ‘tie, attach’ [: Greek eírō ‘join, fasten together, string,’ Latin serō ‘join, line up’ P:911; MA:535] (so VW) or with *swer- ‘speak (solemnly)’ [: Oscan sverrunei ‘to the speaker,’ Gothic swaran ‘swear,’ Old English swerian (> Modern English swear) P:1049] (so P for Latin sermō with doubts) is unclear. +

+ + +
+

+Ṣarmacaṃdre +(n.) +‘Ṣarmacandra’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Ṣarmacaṃdre, -, -//] +(453a2). +

+ + +
+

+ṣarmire +See ṣanmire. +

+ + +
+

+ṣarmir(i)śke* +(n.) +‘young novice’
+[-, -, ṣarmirśkeṃ//śarmiśkaṃ (< *ṣarmirśkañ), -, -] +ṣarmirśkeṃne [the name of a meter of 4 X 12 syllbles (rhythm 5/7)] (107a10), trai ṣarmi-riśkaṃ [sic] Puñicaṃndre Jñānacaṃndre Amrätarakṣite t[a]ne kameṃ ‘three novices, P., J., and A, came here’ (G-Su34.1). +∎A regularly built Tocharian B diminutive from ṣanmire/ṣarmire, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣarya +(n./adj.) +‘beloved’
+[ṣarya, -, ṣaryo (voc. ṣarya)//] +saswe ṣarya sompastär te ‘the lord, the beloved, takes this’ (33a4), weṣän-neścä ṣarya ammakki poññ āppai mā ñiś cempaṃts rakṣatsents aiṣṣäṃ ‘he says to her, beloved mother, tell father not to give me to these rakṣas’ (85a2), sanai ṣaryompa śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai ‘I will live with one beloved my whole life long for the good’ (496a3/4). +∎Perhaps reflecting a putative PIE *ǵ^heserih_xeh_a- ‘(one) at hand’ [: Greek kheírios ‘in the hands, under control’] and thus a derivative of ṣar ‘hand’ (Schindler, 1967[1968]). For the semantics one should compare (with Hilmarsson, 1986a:330) Icelandic handgenginn ‘favorite’ (< *‘submitted, in the hands of’). VW's derivation (449) is similar semantically though he starts with *ser- ‘protect’ for both ṣar and ṣarya. +See also ṣar. +

+ + +
+

+Ṣarṣire +(n.) +‘Ṣarṣire’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Ṣarṣire, -, -//] +Ṣarṣire lyāka ‘Ṣ. has seen [it]’ [as the attestation of authentication of a financial transaction] (463a4). +‣Sieg, Siegling and Thomas (1953: 297) suggest that this is a miswriting for ṣanmire ~ ṣarmire ‘novice’ but it seems very unlikely that a novice would have been put in so responsible a position of oversight as the attestation suggests. +

+ + +
+

+ṣale +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘mountain, hill’
+[ṣale, ṣlentse, ṣale//ṣali, ṣleṃts, ṣaleṃ] +ṣlentse tronkne lyam=ompalskoññe ‘in the hollow of the mountain he sat [in] meditation’ (4b6), ṣalesa stmau = BHS parvatastha- (12a7), Sumer-ṣle warñai ṣali ‘Mt. Sumeru, etc., and other mountains’ (45b7), [Sume]r-ṣlentse tsankär ‘the peak of Mt. Sumeru’ (74b5), cankene ṣlentse ‘in the bosom of the mountain’ (76a3), ṣaleṃ rankalle ‘to climb mountains’ (355a6), ṣleṃts tsänkarwa maistär se ‘he measures (?) the peaks of the mountains’ (355b3), śiñcaccepi ṣlentse = BHS himavat (H-ADD.149.79a4 [Couvreur, 1966: 178]). + -- ṣleṣṣe ‘prtng to a mountain or hill’: ṣleṣṣi wärttoṣṣi akaśäṣṣi kenäṣṣi w[räṣṣ]i /// ‘of a mountain, forest, sky, ground, and water’ (338a2); +
+ṣäle-yäst ‘mountain- precipice’: (338a4). +∎Etymology uncertain. TchA ṣul and B ṣale reflect either PTch *ṣw'äle from a putative PIE *swelo- related to the otherwise isolated Germanic *swel- ‘swell’ (VW, 1941:181) or *s'älwe from a putative PIE *selwo- and connected with Latin silva ‘forest’ (with dialectal -i- for -e-) as suggested by VW, 1961c:420-1, 1976:465. In Tocharian ṣale is further related to oṣṣale, q.v., ‘north.’ Such a relationship is easier to understand if we start from *h₁ṇ-swelo- since such a form would account in fairly simple way for the initial o- (the result of rounding by the immediately following *-w-). However, this consideration is not absolutely decisive in favor of *swelo- since it is not impossible to assume that (1) the initial o- results from a more distant assimilation from *-w- in *h₁ṇ-selwo-, (2) it results from an early metathesis of *h₁ṇ-selwo- to *h₁ṇ-swelo-, or (3) the o- (rather than the otherwise expected *e-) is the result of the analogical pressure of the antonym omotruññā- ‘south.’ Still the relationship of ṣale with oṣṣale does favor *swelo- as the origin of the former. Not with Lubotsky (1988b:91-95) is it from a putative PIE *sk^welo- [: OCS skala ‘rock, stone’] since the Slavic words (and related words meaning ‘stone’ in Germanic) seem clearly to belong to PIE *(s)kel- ‘split’ (P:923-925) without the labiovelar necessary to explain the TchA vowel. Nor with Hilmarsson (1991:153) is it from a PIE *skeu(h_x)elo- ‘a place of cover’ or ‘a place of darkness’ from *skeu(h_x)- (cf. P:597). See discussion s.v. oṣṣale. Nor again with Pedersen (1941:221) from PIE *selo(s)- [: Greek hélos ‘marsh, low ground by a river’ or Sanskrit sáras- ‘lake’ (though the latter connection is denied by Pedersen)]. +See also ṣlyiye, ṣle-taś, and oṣṣale. +

+ + +
+

+ṣalype +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘(sesame) oil; salve, ointment’
+[ṣalype, -, ṣalype//ṣälypenta, -, ṣälypenta] +apsāltsa yāmu pīle kektseṃne curṇanmasa ṣälypen-tasa nano mīsa rättankeṃ ‘the wound in the body made by a sword, with powders and salves the flesh heals again’ (15b1=17b3), [n]esäṃ mā [sātkenta] mā ṣälypenta śodhanta ‘there are no remedies, neither salves nor purgatives’ (17b4), yṣiñe cokiś ṣalywe masa ṣank ywārtsa kewye ‘[as] oil for the night lamp went [in] a ṣank and a half of butter’ (451a2), kaṃnte kältsau ṣalype ... śār kuṣalle ‘oil pressed/ strained 100 times [is] to be poured all over’ (P-1a2), hirandaṣṣe ṣalywe [ṣalywe = BHS taila-] (Y-1a5). +∎Tch ṣälyp and B ṣalype reflect PTch *ṣälype. From PIE *sélpos (nt.) (> *ṣälpe > *ṣlpe > *ṣlype > *ṣälype) [: Greek (Hesychius) élpos, Albanian gjalpë ‘butter,’ Sanskrit sarpí- ‘clarified butter,’ OHG salba, Old English sälf ‘salve’ (P:901; MA:194)] (Meillet and Lévi, 1911:146, VW:450- 451, though differing in details from that presented here). Perhaps to be added to this etymon is TchA ṣālypi (if < *sēlpyeh_a-) ‘unction, veneration, admiration’ (?). +

+ + +
+

+ṣaṣe +(n.) +‘hare’
+[ṣaṣe, -, -//] +ṣaṣe = BHS śaśa [in the calendrical cycle] (549a6). +∎From BHS śaśa- or some Prakrit equivalent. +

+ + +
+

+ṣāñ +See sañ. +

+ + +
+

+ṣāro* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, ṣaraiṃ] +ṣaraiṃ lypakwa sronkiṃ [lacuna of some 10 akṣaras or so] mā cäñcreṃ reki weskeṃ (533a6). +‣Preceding this passage is a long list of negative eating habits. It appears that here we may have switched to bad verbal habits (NB weskeṃ). If so, the three hapax legomena here may be some sort of "speech acts." +∎If the identification is correct ṣāro would reflect a putative PIE *swēreh_a- from *swer- ‘speak solemnly’ [: English swear], etc. (P:1049)]. +See also ṣarm. +

+ + +
+

+ṣārtto* +(n.) +‘encouragement’ (?)
+[-, -, ṣārttai//] +/// ñke ṣārttai wentsi mā yotonträ ‘now to offer encouragement [?] [but] they aren't capable’ (H-149-ADD.65b4 [Thomas, 11954: 723]). +∎A derivative of ṣärtt-, q.v. (As if) from PIE *sērTweh_a-. +See also ṣarttaṣṣiññe. +

+ + +
+

+-ṣāwo +(n.) +‘bath’ (?), only in the compound särwāna-ṣawo
+[särwāna-ṣawo, -, -//] +///särwāna-ṣawo masketar [sic] ‘...becomes a face- bath’ (W-13a6). +∎A derivative of *seuh₃- ‘express juice; rain’ (P:912-913); more s.v. su- ‘rain.’ (As if) from PIE *sēuh₃eh_a-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣäṃs- +(vt.) +‘count’
+G Ps. II /ṣäṃs^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, ṣamṣtär//-, -, ṣaṃsentär; MPImpf. //-, -, ṣaṃṣyentär; MPPart ṣaṃsemane]; +
+K Ps. IXb /ṣänäsk^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, ṣanäṣkeṃ] +k_us=āmoksa trikoṣ cai po śaiṣṣe mā ṣäṃ-ṣy[e]nträ ‘they who had been tricked by art were not counting the whole world’ (24a5), n_änok alyankäṃ [lege: alyenkäṃ] satāṣlñe śkar śkār ṣaṃṣtär ‘again and again he counts others [as] exhalation, always by tens’ (41a8), ṣukt okt śak wat satāṣṣäṃ | ṣkas piś ñu wat no ṣaṃṣtär ‘seven, eight, or ten [times] he exhaled, but he counts six, five or nine’ (41a9/b1), kewä[n] ṣäṃsemane al[y]enkänts = BHS gāḥ saṃgaṇayan pareṣām (305b8); [k_use ā]lāṣmoṃ ṣänäskeṃ (522a3). + -- ṣäṃṣalñe: ṣäṃṣalñ[e] = BHS gaṇana- (41a6), ṣäṃṣalñe sū tne westrä piś klauteṃntsa ṣäṃṣalñe | menki olypo trīwäṣlñe astarñe ṣpä ‘counting will here be spoken of under five forms: [true] counting, less, more, mixed, and pure’ (41a7/8), ṣäṃṣalñe ṣe wī trai śtwer piś śak taṅtsi ‘counting [is] one, two, three, four, five, up to ten’ (41a8). +∎(As if) from PIE *sem-se/o-, a verbal derivative of *sem- ‘one, a unity.’ For the semantics, one should compare Sanskrit samayati ‘puts in order’ and Old Icelandic semja ‘put together, put in order, unite’ < PIE *som(h_x)eye/o- (P:902-905; MA:472). No other Indo-European group shows an s-derivative to sem- so it is likely that the creation of this verb is an inner-Tocharian innovation (VW:451). Its lateness would account for the preservation of the nasal before -s- (cf. mīsa ‘flesh’ < PIE *memseh_a). +See also ṣe and ṣaṃṣäl. +

+ + +
+

+ṣäp +See ṣpä. +

+ + +
+

+ṣäm- + läm- +(vi./vt.) +G (vi.) ‘sit; remain, be present; subside’ (ompalskoññe ṣäm- ‘meditate’); K (vt.) ‘set; cause to subside’
+G Ps. II /ṣäm^'ä/_e-/[ṣamau, -, ṣamäṃ//-, -, ṣameṃ; Impf. -, -, ṣami//-, ṣmīcer, ṣamyeṃ; APart. ṣmeñca ‘one who sits’; MPPart ṣmemane; Ger. ṣmalle]; Ko. V /lāmā- ~ lämā-/ [-, lāmat, lāmaṃ//lamam, -, lamaṃ; Inf. lamatsi; Ger. lamalle]; Ipv. I /(pä)lāmā- ~ (pä)lämā-/ [Sg. plāma; Pl. plamas]; Pt. Ia /lyämā-/ [-, -, lyama//-, -, lymāre; MP -, -, lmāte//]; +
+K Ps. IXb /lämäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP-, -, lamästär//; APl. lamäṣṣeñca]; Pt. II /lyāmā-/ [A -, -, lyāma//; MP -, -, lyāmate//]; Pt Ib /lämā-/ [MP -, -, lmāte//] +ṣamyeṃ māka ṣamāni aplāc ‘many monks sat conversing’ (3a5), asāṃ ñor ṣamäṃ ‘he sits below the throne’ (92a4), ṣami=mpolskoññe śakyamune ‘the Buddha was meditating’ (296b6), śale amokäcci ṣameṃ Śimprayentse patsānkäś skakanma laṃsseṃträ ‘likewise artisans sit/are here; they are working on the balconies to Ś.'s window’ (TEB-74-3), [o]mpalskoññe-ṣmeñca ‘one who meditates’ (159b2), [pa]lskoñe ṣmemane ‘sitting in meditation/meditating’ (74b2), tumeṃ Candramukhe w[alo] ṣecakecce asānne ṣmemane ‘then king ., sitting on his lion's seat’ (91b5), [mā] nke sasainu osne ṣmalle ‘one [is] not to remain in a house with arms akimbo’ (322a1); kwri yarke peti ṣey-me kurpelle ost olypo ṣaicer makci lamalyi ‘if praise and flattery was going to concern you, you your-selves should remain at home’ [i.e. not become a monk] (33a7), olypo ost lamam ‘[if] we remain very much at home’ (50a7), śwe[r] meñtsa auṣäp kākone lamatsi ‘to remain more than four months by invitation’ (331a5), ompalskoññe kr_ui no mā lamaṃ ‘if, however, they do not meditate’ (407a3), ñake lāmat śwālyai ālyine ‘now thou wilt sit on [his] right palm’ (567a1), lāmaṃ-ñ prosko ‘fear will sit down [= subside] for me’ (TEB-64-8); plamas-ñ akarte ‘sit close to me!’ (46b4), pakaccāṃne kattākem epinkte lämās ‘in the rainy season remain among the householders’ (331a5); wate lyama keṃ[tsa] ‘a second sat on the ground’ (4b6), ṣlentse tronkne lyam=ompalskoññe ‘in the hollow of the mountain he sat [in] meditation’ (4b7), po kkeñisa lymā[re] ‘they all sat on their knees’ (18a5/6), lyama śama mas=orkäntai ‘he sat, he stood, he went hither and yon’ (108b5), aśiyanampa ṣaḍvarginta plākisa sana olyine lymāre ‘the ṣaḍvarigikas sat in the same boat with [some] nuns’ (PK-AS- 18B-b3 [Pinault, 1984b]); /// [e]nkormeṃ kenīne lamä-stär-ne ‘taking [him] he sets him on [his] knees’ (83a3); lyāma-n= asāṃne wteṃtse wsā-[ne] lantuññe ‘he set him on [his] throne and gave him a second time [his] royalty’ (22a5), āṃtp[i] te [lege: tai] lyāma arhante [keninesa] ‘the arhat set them both on [his] knees’ (25a1), kleśan-maṣṣeṃ tekänma po lämäṣṣeñcai ‘causing all kleśa diseases to subside’ (212b4/5); sankrām wtetse lmāte ‘he established the monastery for a second time’ (DAM.507a4 [Pinault, 1984a]). + -- lamalñe: māka läklenta o[st] lamalñe kraketse (123b6); +
+lmor*: /// ̇s ̇k ̇ lo lmorntse mā twe prāskat ‘by sitting afar thou dost not fear’ [?] (588b6). +∎TchA and B agree in both ṣäm- and läm- so it is easy to recover the PTch situation. Any earlier state of affairs is less clear. PTch *läm- is probably from PIE *lemb- seen most clearly in Sanskrit lámbate ‘he hangs (from)’ or English limp. The semantic development would be some-thing on the order ‘hang (from)’ > ‘be found’ and so on (VW:258-259). +
+AB ṣäm- reflect PTch *ṣäm- which us usually taken to be somehow from PIE *sed- [: Sanskrit sad-, Avestan had-, Armenian nstim (< *ni-sdyo-), Greek hézomai (< *sesd-e/o-), Latin sedeō, Gothic sitan, Old English sittan (< *sed-ye/o-), Lithuanian sėdžiu, OCS sěždǫ, all ‘sit’ (P:884-885; MA:522)] (Meillet, Mémoires de la Société Linguistique de Paris 19: 161-2 [1916] apud VW). In Tocharian we would have the addition, at a relatively late date, of -m- under the influence of both läm- and stäm- ‘stand’ (so, in essentials, VW:451) but the exact mechanism is obscure. Alternatively we might imagine a late PIE *h₁s-em-, an élargissement of *h₁ēs- [: Greek hêsthai ‘to sit,’ Hittite ēsa ‘sits,’ āszi ‘sits, remains, is left,’ Avestan āste ‘sits,’ Sanskrit āste ‘sits’ (P:342; MA:522)]. +See also osta-ṣmemane and osta-ṣmeñca. +

+ + +
+

+ṣärk- +(vt.) +‘pass, surpass, go beyond’
+Ps. IXb /ṣärkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, ṣärkästär//; MPPl. ṣärkäskemane]; Pt. II /ṣārkā-/ [MP -, ṣārkatai, ṣārkate//]; PP /ṣeṣṣirko-/ +su cpi läkle ste po läklenta ṣärkästrä ‘this is his suffering; he passes beyond all sufferings’ (284a1); k_u[s]e ksa perneñc śaiṣṣene [tw]e [no] po ceṃ ṣarkatai ‘whoever in the world [is] glorious; thou hast surpassed all of them’ (203b2/3), se ksa perneñca [lege: perneñc] onolmi ceṃ twe posa ṣārkatai ‘whatever beings [are] glorious, thou has surpassed all of them’ (204a1/2). +∎From PIE *serK- [Hittite sarku- ‘hervorragend, erhaben, mächtig’] (Kronasser, 1957: 127, VW:451-2). +

+ + +
+

+ṣärtt- +(vt.) +‘incite, instigate, encourage’
+PP /ṣeṣärttu-/ +walo Māgatṣe yolaiṃ wāṣmots ṣeṣartu kausa pātär krent ‘the king of M., incited by evil friends, killed [his] good father’ (TEB-64-12). +∎TchA ṣärtw- and B ṣärtt- reflect PTch *ṣärtw-, a verb found only in the causative, whence the constant initial ṣ- in the verb and its derivatives. From PIE *sret-/sred^h- ‘boil, be agitated, move noisily’ [: Greek hróthos ‘rushing noise, roar of waves, clash of oars,’ OHG stredan ‘effervesce, whirl, boil’ (P:1001-1002)], with the addition of the common pre-Tocharian extension -w-. Most improbable is VW's derivation (452) *serg-tw-e/o- from *serg- ‘protect.’ +See also ṣertwe and ṣārtto (also ṣartaṣṣiññe). +

+ + +
+

+ṣärp- +(vt.) +‘explain to, inform; teach; indicate, guide’
+Ps. VIII /ṣärps^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, ṣarpṣäṃ//-, -, ṣärpseṃ; MP -, -, -//-, -, ṣärpsentär; MPPart. ṣärpsemane]; Ko. II /ṣärp^'ä/_e-/ [ṣarpau, -, -//-, -, -; Opt. -, ṣarpit, ṣarpi//; Inf. ṣarptsisa]; Pt. III /ṣerp(sā)-/ [-, -, ṣerpsa//-, -, ṣerpar]; PP /ṣeṣärpo-/ +māka pudñäkti tsankaṃ śaiṣṣene ṣärpsentär-ne ālyauce ka nraiṣṣe wnolme tallānta ‘the many Buddhas, [if] they arise in the world, indicate to one another concerning the unfortunate being’ (15a7=17a8/b1), āmokänta wäntärwa śamñe ṣärpseṃ śaumotse mā po mīsa perakä ket mā yäkne orttoträ (255b1), ṣärpsemane Jñānasthite Guṇa-saṣpadeṣśc weṣṣäṃ ‘explaining, J. says to G.’ (103a6); tu ñiś ... aultsorsa ka ṣärpau-me ‘this I will explain to you in short’ (33b6), gaje ākhumpa śatreṣṣe palskalñe ṣa[rpi] ‘may the elephant explain the grain-example to the mole’ (511a1), ñake no wäntre ṣarpau-me ‘now I [will] explain this affair to you’ (A-2a4); rṣāki ṣerpar-me twe ke śpālmeṃ rṣāke nes ‘the wisemen indicated to them: "thou are the best wiseman"’ (107a10), śaiṣṣe täṅwantsiśco ślokne ṣerpsa ce arthä ‘for the love of the world he explained this circumstance in a strophe’ (K-3b1); vṛttinmane ṣeṣarpoṣäṃ ‘instructed in moral behaviors’ (549b2). + -- ṣärpalñe ‘instruction, guidance’: ñake palsko ṣärpalñe ñemace pratihar[i sä]lk[āte-meś] (108b7); +
+ṣärpalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to instruction, guidance’: ṣärpalñeṣṣe = BHS ādeśana (527b2); +
+ṣärpsemaneñña (nf.) ‘guide’: omte kr_ui aśiya ṣärpsemaneñña stmausa tākoy ‘if a nun there has stood [as] a guide/director of traffic’ (H-149.X.5b5 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]); +
+ṣarpṣūkiññe* (n.) ‘guide’: ṣamāne ytāri mā aiśtär klyiye ytāri ṣärpṣūkiññesa yaṃ-ne anāpatti ‘[if] a monk does not know the way and a woman goes with him by way of being a guide, anāpatti’ (330a2). +
+ṣeṣärpuwermeṃ. +∎TchA ṣärp-, B ṣärp- reflect PTch ṣärp-. From either PIE *ser- ‘tie, attach’ [: Greek eírō ‘join, fasten together, string,’ Latin serō ‘join, line up’ (P:911)] + p, b, b^h (cf. VW:452 who assumes ser- + w) or, more probably, *swer- ‘speak (solemnly)’ [: Oscan sverrunei ‘to the speaker,’ Gothic swaran ‘swear,’ Old English swerian (> Modern English swear) (P:1049)] + p, b, b^h. In neither case is the root found extended by a labial in other branches of Indo-European. (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:180, and VW, 1941:122, already note a relationship with Latin sermo but whether the latter is from *ser- or *swer- is not clear.) +See also ṣarm and maybe ṣāro. +

+ + +
+

+ṣärmassu +See ṣarm. +

+ + +
+

+ṣiko* +(n.) +‘(foot)step, (foot)print’
+[-, -, ṣiko//-, -, ṣikonta] +saikaṃ ṣikonta e[r]k[e]nmaś ‘he will take steps to the cemetery’ (3b6), ṣem[e] ṣik[o] /// (522a1), [onko]lmai ṣīko ymain= aiśeñca ‘recognizing an elephant-print in the road’ (587b2). +∎A derivative of sik-, q.v. +See also possibly aṣkār. +

+ + +
+

+ṣim +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘roof; dwelling’
+[ṣim, -, ṣim//] +ṣim mā prākre aipau no iścemtsa oṃṣmeṃ mā yāmu ‘a roof not firmly covered, not made with clay from above’ (A-2a5), śänman-neś swese kälymīnmeṃ śtwāra toṃ swāsaṃ ṣimtsa ce_u ‘the rain comes from all four directions; it rains on that roof’ (A-2b6), ṣimä-menāk = BHS āgāropanam (U-23b2). +∎(As if) from PIE sih₂mṇ [: Sanskrit sīmán- (m.) ‘hair-parting, boundary, limit,’ Greek himás ‘thong, lash, reins, whip,’ Old Norse sīmi (m.) ‘rope, chord,’ Old English sīma ‘id.,’ Old Norse seimr ‘thread,’ all < *‘that which is bound together’ from *seih₂- (P:891-2) or perhaps better *seh₂(i)- ‘bind’] (VW:455). +

+ + +
+

+ṣirsau +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘?’
+[ṣirsau, -, -//] +paliyeṣṣe ṣirsau ṣuktä näsait yamaṣäle kete tverene kātaṃ ceu ostne śāmna litsavi mäsketrä (M-2a4). +

+ + +
+

+ṣiye* +(n.) +‘drain’ (?)
+[-, -, ṣiye//] +///ne taṣalya kante kauntsa aise ṣiyene litale ‘... is to be placed on ... for a hundred days; the surplus [is] to be poured in the drain’ (W-42a6). +∎If correctly read (Sieg, 1954, reads piyene) and interpreted, a derivative of si-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣukar +(distributive) +‘by sevens’
+(ST-3b5). +∎From ṣuk, the apocopated byform of ṣukt ‘seven,’ + the distributive suffix -ār (cf. Winter, 1991:143). +

+ + +
+

+ṣukt +(numeral) +‘seven’
+ṣukt naumye[ntasa] (17b5), ṣukt bodhyangänta ‘the seven members of knowledge’ (39a7), tne ṣuk[t] okt śak wat satāṣṣäṃ ‘he exhales seven, eight, or ten [times]’ (41a8), ṣuk-meñantse-ne ‘on the seventh of the month’ (433a24). + -- ṣukt-känte ‘700’: ṣukänte [lege: ṣukt känte] (522b3); +
+ṣukt-yältse ‘7,000’: ṣuk-yältse (522b3); +
+ṣukt-tmane ‘70,000’: ṣuk- tm[a]ne (522b3), also ṣuktmane-piś-iltsempa ‘with 75,000’ (398a1); +
+ṣuk-yäknesa ‘sevenfold’: ṣuk-yäknesa śaul ‘sevenfold life’ (S-3a3). +∎TchA ṣpät and B ṣukt reflect *ṣäp(ä)t and *ṣäktu (vel sim.) respectively. The A form goes back regularly to PIE *septṃ [: Sanskrit saptá, Latin septem, Greek heptá, English seven, etc., P:909; MA:402] (Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927). The B form has been influenced by the PTch word for ‘eight,’ *oktu, both in the final vowel which colors the root vowel and in the -k- rather than -p-. VW's assumption (461) of a TchA **ṣuptu that has influenced an inherited B **ṣäkt is unnecessarily complex and surely incorrect. Nor is there any reason to suppose that *ṣäptä gave *ṣäpätä, whence pre-Tocharian B ṣäwätä > ṣut which was replaced by ṣukt on the analogy of okt (Winter, 1991:109). +See also ṣuk(t)-kauṃ*, ṣuktanka, ṣuktankar, ṣuktante, and ṣukar. +

+ + +
+

+ṣuk(t)-kauṃ* +(n.) +‘week’
+[-, -, ṣukt-kauṃ//] +ṣuk-kauntsa ‘for a week’ (16a2), alokälymi lyama ṣuk-kauṃ epiṅte ‘he sat directed toward another goal for a week’ (22a6), makte kakāte ṣuk-kauṃ poyśiṃ sānkämpa ‘he himself invited for a week the Buddha with his retinue’ (22a7), [i]kañceṃ-waceṃ ṣukaunne mrestīwe kektsenne tä[nmasketär-ne] ‘in the twenty-second week his marrow appears’ (603a1). +∎From ṣukt + kauṃ, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣuktanka +(number) +‘seventy’
+‣Implied by ṣuktankar. +∎From PIE *septṃ(d)ḱomt with the same analogical rebuilding of the root as in ṣukt, q.v., and in the ending as is discussed s.v. taryāka. +

+ + +
+

+ṣuktankar +(distributive) +‘by seventies’
+(K. T. Schmidt, 1985:766, fn. 12). +∎*Ṣuktanka, ‘seventy,’ q.v., + the distributive suffix -ār, with ṣuktanka- remodeled to ṣuktaka- under the influence of piśāka ‘by fifties’ (cf. Winter, 1991:143). +

+ + +
+

+ṣuktante +(adj.) +‘seventh’
+[m: ṣuktante, -, ṣuktañce (~ ṣuktañceṃ)//] +ṣuktante palsko tsenke[tär] ‘the seventh thought arises’ (183a4), ṣuktañce ṣkas meñantse-meṃ ‘from the seventh of the sixth month’ (461a5), ṣat kolyi ñor ṣuktañce kauṃ lyutaskentär ‘a sliver [of] hoof below; they are driven out the seventh day’ (M-3b1). +∎A derivative of ṣukt, q.v. TchA ṣäptänt and B ṣuktante reflect ultimately PIE *septṃto- [: Sanskrit saptátha-, OHG sibunto, Lithuanian septiñtas, and morphologically more distant cognates: Greek hébdomos, Latin septimus, Old Lithuanian sẽkmas, P:909; MA:402]. The form of the TchB word has been reshaped as in ṣukt, q.v. (VW:461). +

+ + +
+

+ṣullekne +‘?’
+/// - ṣullekne /// [or is it to be read pullekne?] (LP-19a2). +

+ + +
+

+ṣuwi +See ṣwīye. +

+ + +
+

+ṣuṣye* +(adj.) +‘resounding’
+[m: -, -, ṣuṣye//] +pālamar ci po täṅwsā pete-ñ oko ṣuṣye ramt /// ‘I will praise thee with all [my] love; give me a resounding effect as...’ (240b6). +∎From BHS ṣūṣya-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣe +(numeral) +‘one’ ; [in singular] ‘same’; [in plural] ‘some’; as preposition/ adverb ‘together’)
+[m: ṣe, ṣemepi, ṣeme//ṣemi, ṣemeṃts, ṣemeṃ] [f: sana, -, somo ~ sanai//somona, somonaṃts, somona] +ṣem=ā[ntsemeṃ] ‘from a single element’ (3a8), ṣe yśelmeṣṣe wate no māntalñeṣṣe ‘one lust, the second evil-thinking’ (8b3), somo-a[i]ñyai somo ytārye kā westär ‘the [way] traversable only by one at a time, why is it called the one way?’ (29b1), ṣäṃṣalñe ṣe wī trai śtwer piś śak täṅtsi ‘counting: one, two, three, four, five, up to ten’ (41a8), sanai ṣaryompa śāyau ‘I live with a single lover’ (496a3/4), aiskeṃ ṣemi = BHS dadaty eke (H-149.315b2 [Sieg/Siegling, 1930- 32:491]), ekañi ṣemepi ṣemepi = BHS ekasya] (H-149-ADD.105b6 [Sieg/Siegling, 1930-32: 488]), kercapaṃ trey [] yakwe ṣe ‘three donkeys; one horse’ (LP-1a4), plākisa sanai olyine lymāre ‘they sat, by agreement, in a single boat’ (PK-AS-18B-b3 (Pinault, 1984b:377), kuñcītäṣṣe ṣalype ṣeme pāke malkwersa päkṣalle ‘sesame oil, the same part, with milk [is] to be cooked’ (W-34a4). + -- ṣe-ṣe ‘one by one, each single’: ṣeme ṣeme kär-tsauñe ‘each single good work’ (64b8), lypauwa ... mäskentär-ne sanai-sanai bhūmine ‘they have been sent away from him one by one in the bhūmi’ (591a3), ṣeme-ṣṣeme śloksa ‘one by one with this śloka’ (S-8a3). +
+ṣe-ṣuke ‘having the same taste’: tusāksa ṣe-śuke māka mā śwālle ‘there-fore much with the same taste [is] not to be eaten’ (ST-a2). +
+ṣeme-pälsko ‘of one mind’ (K-3a2); +
+ṣeme-yärm ‘in the same measure, to the same extent’: ṣeme-yärm te po eṣe päkṣalle ‘in the same measure, it all together [is] to be cooked’ (P-2b1); +
+ṣeme-yakne ~ ṣemaikne ‘in the same fashion’: ṣemaikne nest ñäkte ‘in the same fashion thou art god (273a4’), ṣemeykne pāyti ‘in the same fashion [it is] forbidden’ (330a1); +
+somw-aiñye* ‘traversable only one at a time’: somo-a[i]ñyai somo ytārye kā westär ‘the [way] traversable only by one at a time, why is it called the one way?’ [where somw-aiñyai = BHS ekāyan] (29b1); +
+somo-kälymi ‘directed towards a single object (to the exclusion of everything else)’: somo-kälymi = BHS ekāntaṃ (U-18a3); +
+somo-somo ‘one by one’: somo-somo klokaśne ltū wlaṃśke yok tañ kektsentsa ‘one by one from [each] follicle over thy body emerged a soft hair’ (74a3). +∎TchB ṣe and A ṣa- (only in compounds) is the only direct reflection of the PIE athematic inflection of this word. They are directly equatable with Greek heîs (< PIE *sēm-s or possibly *sem-s). More distantly we have Armenian mi (< *sm-ih_xos) ‘one,’ Gothic sin-teins ‘daily,’ Old English sin-niht ‘eternal night,’ Latin sem-per ‘always,’ etc. (P:902-904; MA:399). This connection goes back to Sieg/Siegling, 1908:927, and Meillet, 1911-12:284-5. +
+The rest of the B masculine paradigm (acc. sg. ṣeme, nom. pl. ṣemi, acc. pl. *ṣemeṃ and most of the feminine one (acc. sg. somo, nom./acc. pl. somona) reflect A PIE thematic *som(h_x)o/eh_a- (see Sihler, 1973). The palatalized initial of the masculine is analogical to ṣe; the -o- of the feminine is regular (by o-umlaut) from Ptch *somo < PIE *som(h_x)eh_am. (The palatalization of the TchA feminine is analogical after the masculine.) The final -s of TchA sas (masc. nom. sg.) may be PIE *-s preserved in a monosyllable (cf. B wes/A was ‘we,’ yes/yas ‘you,’ ṣkas ‘six’ [but A ṣäk]). The initial s- in sas is by regular depalatalization of -s ... ṣ- (cf. A säksäk ‘sixty’). +
+A third basic shape is seen in A nom. sg. fem. säṃ and B sg. fem. sana/sanai. These are most easily derived from a PIE neuter sg. *sṃ (cf. Greek hén with full-grade). In early PTch *sṃ would have given *sän, to which the ordinary feminine -ā was added. The same PIE *sṃ lies behind Hittite sanni- ‘one and the same, single’ (cf. Eichner, 1991:45-46). For the Tocharian one should compare the ultimately similar but much more complex derivations for this paradigm of VW (415), Hilmarsson (1984), and Winter (1991:99-101). +See also ṣeske, ṣemeske, somār, ṣesa, eṣe, ṣek, ysomo, somotkäññe, and ṣäṃs-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣek +(adv.) +‘always, continually, perpetually’
+nigrot [s]t[ā]m ñor ṣek su mäskīträ ‘he was always found under the nyago-dhra tree’ (3b3), ykāṃ-ṣälñe ṣek warästrä ṣ[e]k imassu ‘always he practices shunning [of the body], always [is he] thoughtful’ [ṣek = BHS sadā] (8b7), ṣek = BHS nityam (30b4), ṣek yamaṣṣeñc[añ] = BHS sātatyakāriṇa (305b2). + -- ṣek-ṣek ‘forever [emphatic]’: kaunn-kaun ṣek-ṣek ‘day by day forever’ (140a2), ṣek-ṣekä = BHS abhīkṣṇaśaḥ (H-149.331 [Sieg/Siegling, 1930-32: 495]); +
+ṣekaññe (adj./adv.) ‘eternal(ly), unchanging’: śāmñana āsta taiysa kwrāṣäṃ ṣekaṃñe enepre tāṣträ ‘he sets himself eternally before the skeletons’ (559a5/b1), [ṣe]kaṃñe parna kakākau ‘[if] he [is] continuously invited’ (H-149.337b2 [Couvreur, 1954b:50]), ṣeka[ññanaṃts] = BHS dhruvāṇāṃ (H-149. 47a2 [Couvreur, 1966:162]); +
+ṣekaññeṣṣe ‘prtng to changelessness’ (in the compound mā-ṣekaññeṣṣe ‘transient’): mā-ṣekaññeṣṣe kraupe = BHS anitya vargaḥ (U-2b2); +
+ṣekatsäññe ‘eternal’ (in the compound mā-ṣekatsäññe ‘transient’): ekantse mā-ṣekatsäññe = BHS cakṣuranitya (527a2). +∎From ṣe, q.v. + (the strengthening particle) kä. The semantic development is from ‘once for all’ to ‘always’ and one should compare, mutatis mutandis, Latin sem-per (Meillet and Lévi, 1911:451; cf. MA:410). Otherwise VW:453-454 (from *sēg^h-) and Hilmarsson's discussion (1986a: 49-50). Cf. also A ṣakkats (ṣak + ats) ‘certainly, decidedly.’ +

+ + +
+

+ṣecake* +(n.) +‘lion’
+[-, ṣecakentse, -//] +ysāṣṣe ramt karse mlyuweñc pokaine ṣeckeṃ[tse] /// ‘thighs like a golden stag, arms [like] a lion's’ (75a1), cwī ṣecakentse krentaunaṃ[ts ṣarmtsa] ‘because of the virtues of this lion’ (574b5). + -- ṣecakäññe ‘prtng to a lion’: te-mant ñāwa newe wrocce ṣecakäññe ce_u ‘thus he roared this great lion roar’ (220a2), [ṣeca]käññe rupsa Bramñäkte toṃ lwāsa enäskemane ‘in the form of a lion, Brahma instructing the animals’ (576b7); +
+ṣecaketstse* ‘prtng to a lion’: ṣecakecce asānne ṣmemane ‘sitting on his lion throne’ (91b5). +∎From PTch *ṣēnśäke (with Tocharian vṛddhi, cf. A śiśäk [without vṛddhi and contaminated by śiśri ‘mane’]) from PTch *sänśäke but further connections are unknown. Probably not from PIE *sinǵ^heko- [: Sanskrit siṃhá- ‘lion’ and Armenian inj ‘leopard’] as per Adams, 1984a. Nor with VW:480- 481 who compares Latin saeta ‘bristle, etc..’ +

+ + +
+

+ṣem +(n.) +‘axle’
+[ṣem, -,ṣem//] +kokaletstse īyoy sū Prasenacī walo ot [] ṣem kautāte koklentse waiptār pwenta käskānte ‘king P. was traveling by wagon; the axle broke and the spokes of the wagon scattered far and wide’ (5a2), kärstau ṣem = BHS chinnākṣaḥ (13a4). +∎Etymology unclear. It is possible that we have here an old loan from some variety of eastern Iranian. One should compare particularly Ossetic sämän ‘axle’ which Bailey (1979:346), at least, takes to be from *(a)ša-ma-na- (cf. Avestan aša- ‘axle’). An eastern Iranian *(a)šama- would give TchB (e)ṣem- (cf. ekṣinek(e) ‘dove’ < Proto-Iranian *axšinaka-). It is also conceivable, though to my mind less likely, that we have an inherited word (as if) from PIE *sh₂-yo-mṇ as ‘the joiner’ or the like [: Sanskrit syati, Lithuanian siẽti, Hittite ishiia-], further cognates P:891-892 (though P has *sē(i)- rather than the *seh₂(i)- guaranteed by Hittite). This latter proposal is ultimately similar to VW's etymology (454) though, following P, he starts from an impossible *sē-m- (or an even more impossible *sēimen- via borrowing from [unattested] TchA). +

+ + +
+

+ṣema +‘?’
+Kṣemawarmentse ṣema (394a1). +‣This comprises the entire document. +

+ + +
+

+Ṣemankar +See Kṣemankar. +

+ + +
+

+ṣemeske +(adj.) +‘only, sole’
+[ṣemeske, ṣemeskepi, -//] +[y]t[ā]rye ṣemeskepi yalya ‘the way traversable only to one’ (555a4). +∎A derivative of ṣe, q.v. +See also ṣeske (cf. Winter, 1991:150). +

+ + +
+

+ṣer +(n.) +‘sister’
+[ṣer, -, -//ṣera, -, -] +/// protärñts śnona ysentär ṣera tkātärñ ‘... the wives of brothers are ravished; sisters and daughters ...’ (2b7), pācera mācera [ṣe]ra procera /// (105a2), takāwa ṣer pudñä[kt]e[ntse] ‘I was the sister of the Buddha’ (400a5). +∎TchA ṣar and B ṣer reflect PTch *(ṣä)ṣer. As if from PIE *swesēr with *-ēr for expected *-ōr on the analogy of the other kin-terms, e.g. pācer, mācer [: Sanskrit svásar- ‘sister,’ Armenian k^coir ‘id.,’ Latin soror ‘id.,’ Old Irish siur ‘id.,’ Lithuanian sesuõ ‘id.,’ etc. (P:1051; MA:521)] (Feist, 1913:105, Sieg, Siegling, and Schulze, 1931:65, VW:449). See Pârvalescu (1989) for further possible connections of this word with the PIE word for ‘blood.’ He takes *swesōr to be *swe-sor ‘of one's own blood.’ +See also ṣerśka. +

+ + +
+

+ṣertwe* +(n.[perhaps pl. tant.]) +‘incitement, instigation’
+[//-, -, ṣertweṃ] +/// [yo]laiṃ wāṣmontse Devadatti ṣertwentsa ‘at the instigation of [his] evil friend D.’ (21a4), isälyäntse ṣṣertwentsā cowai käntwa tärkänaṃ ‘with the incitement of jealousy, they take away [his] tongue’ (255b3). +∎A derivative of ṣärtt-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣerśka +(n.) +‘(little) sister’
+[ṣerśka, -, - (voc. ṣerśka)//(voc. ṣerśkana)] +Nānda cāla onkorñai Nandābala tāy ṣerśka postäṃ msā-ne ‘Nānda lifted the onkorño; [her] sister Nandābala went after her’ (107a7), ṣerśkana ñi aiścer ce pinwāt ‘sisters, you give me this offering’ (107a8/9). +∎Formally a diminutive to ṣer, q.v. As if from *swesorkikeh_a-, rebuilt on the basis of ṣer. Compare soṃśke. +

+ + +
+

+ṣewi* +(nf./nt.) +‘pretext, excuse’
+[-, -, ṣewi//ṣewauna (K-T), -, -] +[antiṣ]puräṣṣana klainampa Rāhuleṃ palkasi yalñeṣṣai ṣewisa Kapila[vāstumeṃ] (109a6), [alye]k ṣewisa weṃ-ne ‘he will offer another excuse’ (325a5). +∎(As if) from PIE *sēuh₃- [: Sanskrit savá- ‘instigator; instigation,’ sávana- ‘instigation’] from *seuh₃- ‘set in motion’ [: Sanskrit sū-, Avestan hav- ‘set in motion,’ hunāiti ‘provides,’ Old Irish sóaid ‘turns,’ Hittite suwāi- ‘press’ (P:914; MA:507)] (VW:454). For the formation, see Adams, 1990a:69-72. +

+ + +
+

+ṣesa +(adv./preverb) +‘together’
+ceṃ ñakteṃmp=eṣe ‘together with these gods’ (23a1), ṣesa reṣṣäṃ = BHS saṃsyandate (30a4), ṣesa kāntal[ñ]emeṃ = BHS saṃgharṣāt (532a2), pañäkte käṣṣī Ānandeṃmpa ṣesa ‘the Buddha teacher together with Ānanda’ (560a4). +∎A derivative (a "pseudo-perlative") from ṣe ‘one,’ q.v. Hilmarsson (1991:177-8) suggests that here and in eṣe we have on old athematic accusative *sem-m (> *sēm) or possibly an old locative *sēm. +

+ + +
+

+ṣeske +(adj.) +‘alone, sole’
+[m: ṣeske, ṣeskecepi, ṣeske//ṣeski, -, -] +kā ñiś ṣeske tañ prāskau ‘why do I alone fear thee [sc. death]?’ (298a2), masa ṣeske ‘he came alone’ (A-4b6), ṣeske yolo lyutaskau ‘I alone drive out evil’ (TEB-63-02). + -- ṣesketstse ‘(quite) alone’: weṃ-ne aśari ñiś ṣesketstse [ne]sau śka yatsi arka-ñ mā ṣ campau ‘he will say to him: I am alone; it is necessary for me to go but I cannot’ (331b2). +∎A derivative of ṣe ‘one,’ q.v. Similarly formed is TchA sasak ‘id.’ +See also ṣemeske (cf. Winter, 1991:150). +

+ + +
+

+ṣai +See nes-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣaiyyiśke * +(n.) +‘± young of an animal’ (?)
+[//ṣaiyyiśkaṃ (< *ṣaiyyiśkañ), -, -] +lareñ s_äsūśkaṃ ṣaiyyiśkaṃ /// (352a3). +‣This reading (instead of paiyyiśkaṃ) and semantic identification are K. T. Schmidt's (1980:407). +∎Etymology unclear. VW (1985:482), accepting Schmidt's semantic identification, would derive this word from PIE *seh₁(i)- ‘sow’ (for the semantics one might compare Welsh hīl (< *seh₁lo-) ‘seed, descendants, posterity’ or Gothic mana-sēþs ‘humanity, world’) but assuming, as he does, a preform *sēyV- will not do since -aiyy- is not a graphic variant -ey-. One might think of a PIE *seh₁i-w-yo- (cf. śaiyye ‘sheep, goat’ from *g^wyeh₃w-yo-) or a PTch *ṣēi- + -(i)ye- (cf. paiyye from PTch *pai [< dual *pode] + -iye-). ( +See also ṣaiweñña*.) One must also raise the very real possibility, perhaps even probability, that ṣaiyyiśke is dissimilated from *śaiyyiśke, or simply a mistake for *śaiyyiṣke, and therefore the regular diminutive of śaiyye ‘sheep, goat’ (cf. wasaṃpātäṣ for expected wasaṃpātäś). +

+ + +
+

+ṣaiweñña * +(n.) +‘seed’ (?)
+[-, -, ṣaiweññai//] +naitwe kärkkāllene släppoṣ kuttipaśaṃ wat parra pānnoṃ [] ṣaiweññai taṃtsäṣṣäṃ ‘[if a monk digs in the ground with his own hand or orders another to dig (or if)] he [has] slipped a vessel into the mud ... [or] if he scatters seed’ (331a1). +∎(As if) from PIE *seh₁i-won-yeh_a-, a derivative of *seh₁i-wr/n-, a verbal noun (not seen elsewhere), ‘sowing,’ to the well-attested PIE verbal root *seh₁(i)- [: Latin serō ‘I sow’ (< *si-sō), Gothic saian ‘sow,’ Lithuanian sė́ju ‘id.,’ OCS sějǫ ‘id.,’ and other, nominal cognates, in Indic, Celtic (P:889ff.)]. +See also perhaps ṣaiyyiśke*. +

+ + +
+

+ṣotarye* +(adj.) +‘signal, distinguished, remarkable’
+[m: -, -, ṣotarye//] +ṣotarye terisa ‘in a distinguished manner’ (DAM.507a5 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), ṣorye [lege: ṣotarye] perisa ‘by this remarkable debt’ (DAM.507a8). +∎An adjective drawn from an underlying **ṣotär, an unextended by-form of ṣotri. q.v. Compare the possible relationship of ṣlyaṣṣe and sälyiye. +See also ṣotri. +

+ + +
+

+ṣotri +(nnt.) +‘sign, mark, (manifestation of) action’
+[ṣotri, -, ṣotri/-, -, ṣotrūni/ṣotrūna, -, ṣotrūna ~ ṣotarnma] +klaiñ=eṅwaññe ṣotrūnimeṃ ‘the [two] signs, female and male’ (8a6), yetwe śāsantse pelke ṣamāññe ṣotri ‘the jewel of the law, the Udāna is the sign of a monk’ (33a2), cākkär svastik nandikāwart ṣotruna enenka celeñiyentär [] kentsa ipprerne mankā-läṣṣana ṣotruna lkoyentär ‘the cakra, svastika, and nandikavarta symbols appeared within; on the ground, in the air these good-luck signs may be seen’ (107a1), wi ṣotrūna = BHS dvilinga (193a1), enkwaññe ṣotri ne[k-sa]te-ñ ‘he destroyed my male sign’ (400a2), pittaṣṣepi kwaṃrmatse nauṣ ṣotri pkarsaso ‘know the early sign of a bile-tumor’ (FS-a1), tuntse te ṣotri Dharmakāme paiyka ‘thus this sign Dh. wrote’ (S-Su2), pittantse ṣotruna ‘the actions/signs of bile [disease]’ [ṣotruna = BHS karmāṇi] (Y-3a2), toyä ṣotruna = BHS etāni lingāni (Y-3a6). + -- ṣotri-yāmci ‘sign-makers [= teachers of the law]’ (45a4). +∎TchA ṣotre and B ṣotri reflect PTch *ṣoträiä. It, in turn, reflects a putative PIE *swēd^h-r-u-h₁en, a neuter n-stem with full grade in the nom./ acc. sg. (cf. Greek téren [nt.] ‘soft’ or ársen [nt.] ‘male’). The TchB plural regularly represents *swēd^h-r-u-h₁neh_a (TchA ṣotreyäntu is analogical). The n-stem is an extension of a deverbal noun in *-ru (cf. tarkar ‘cloud,’ pl. tarkarwa). The verb underlying this is PIE *swed^h- ~ *swēd^h- ‘± be accustomed to’ [: Greek (present participle) éthōn ‘accustomed, customary,’ eíōtha (a perfect used as a present) ‘be accustomed, habituated,’ éthos (nt.) ‘custom, habit,’ ēthos (nt.) ‘accustomed place; custom, character,’ Latin sōdalis ‘member of a confraternity,’ suēscō (< *swēd^h-sḱe/o-) ‘accustom oneself to,’ Sanskrit svadhā ‘inherent power, habitual state, custom,’ Gothic sidus ‘custom’]. In pre-Tocharian we had *swēd^h-r ‘custom, habit, characteristic.’ From ‘characteristic’ the semantic development was to ‘sign, mark’ (Adams, 1990a:65-69; MA:143, better, 455). Not to be equated with Latin signum, etc., as *sek^wtru- or the like (Pedersen, 1941:69) since there is no evidence that *-k^w- would be lost in this environment. No more likely is VW's (641) suggestion of a heavily reworked borrowing from a Prakrit descendant of BHS śruta- ‘heard, understood, etc.’ +See also ṣotarye. +

+ + +
+

+ṣorpor* +(n.) +‘sack’ (?)
+[-, -, ṣorpor//] +Uttareṃ śamaśkeṃ kärwāṣṣai witsakaisa räskare tsopaṃ-ne siñcai ṣorpor ite [warsa yā]mormeṃ ‘he pokes the boy Uttara roughly with the root of a reed, having filled [scil. Uttara] the siñcai bag with water’ (88a1), śaulassu nesy āñme tākaṃ-ne erkenta yakwāmeṃ ṣorpor/// ‘[if] someone has the wish to be venerated, ... a sack of black wool’ (M-3b7). +∎Of unknown etymology. VW (459) suggests a derivation from *ser-w- ‘protect’ but a change of medial *-rw- to -rp- seems most unlikely (cf. ṣmare). His later suggestion (1987:235) of a derivation from PIE *sreb^h- ‘sip, slurp’ makes better sense phonologically but is very weak semantically. +

+ + +
+

+Ṣolārke* +(n.) +‘Ṣolārke’ (PN in monastic records)
+[-, Ṣolārki, -//] +(490-II-7). +

+ + +
+

+ṣkas +(numeral) +‘six’
+[gen. pl. ṣkässaṃts] +po ṣkas yälloṃ ‘all six senses’ (8b7), ṣkas piś ñu wat ṣaṃṣtär ‘he counts six, five, or nine’ (41b1), ṣkas yälloñ = BHS ṣaḍāyatana- (156b2), ṣkässaṃts (173a3), kant[i]ś yikṣye śwāra cakanma ṣkas tom ‘flour for bread, 4 cāks, six tom’ (433a16), ṣkas meñantse-meṃ motte [lege: mante] ‘from the sixth of the month on’ (461a5), ṣkacce meṃne śak-ṣkasne ‘on the sixteenth of the sixth month’ (G-Su36.1). + -- ṣkas-kante ‘600’; +
+ṣkas-yiltse ‘6,000’; +
+ṣkas-tmane ‘60,000’: śāmnaṃts śaul ṣai ṣkas-tmane pik_ula ‘the life of men was 60,000 years’ (3b1); +
+ṣkas-yäkne ‘sixfold’. +∎TchA ṣäk and B ṣkas reflect PTch *ṣ(w')äkä(s). From PIE *s(w)eḱs [: Gothic saihs, Latin sex, Greek heks, Avestan xšvaš, Sanskrit ṣaṭ, etc. (P:1044; MA:402)]. Differing in details only from Sieg/ Siegling, 1908:927, VW:450. +See also ṣkaska, ṣkaste, ṣkasar and śakṣkas. +

+ + +
+

+ṣkasar +(distributive) +‘by sixes’
+‣Attested once only as ṣkäsār, q.v. +∎Ṣkas + the distributive suffix -ār. +

+ + +
+

+ṣkaska +(numeral) +‘sixty’
+ṣkaska pakaccānta ‘sixty rainy seasons’ (440b4), ṣkaska-śtwāra traunta ‘sixty-four’ trau’ (497a3), etc. +∎A derivative of ṣkas, q.v. TchA säksäk (with assimilation) reflect PTch *ṣ(w')äk(ä)skā (for the formation, see the discussion at taryāka). Differing only in details, VW:450, Winter, 1991:120. +

+ + +
+

+ṣkaste +(adj.) +‘sixth’
+[m: ṣkaste, ṣkaccepi, ṣkacce ~ ṣkaśce//] [f: ṣkaśca, -, -//] +ṣkacce meṃne śak-ṣkasne ‘on the sixteenth of the sixth month’ (G-Su36.1). +∎A derivative of ṣkas, q.v. TchA ṣkäṣt and B ṣkaste reflect PTch *ṣ(w')äk(ä)ste]. From PIE *s(w)eksto- [: Gothic saihsta, Latin sextus, or without the second -s-, Sanskrit ṣaṣṭhá-, Greek hékto-, etc. (further cognates P:1044; MA:402)] (VW:450). +

+ + +
+

+ṣkār +‘?’
+tumeṃ ṣkār ṣkitaine/// (620b2). +

+ + +
+

+ṣkäsār +(distributive) +‘by sixes’
+pañike pakenta kalwa wi 2 ṣkäsār plänkāre cāneṃntsa śak-wi 12 ‘the Buddha obtained two [2] parts, by sixes they were sold for twelve [12] cānes’ (KLOST.35,15-16[Couvreur, 1954c:90]). +∎A derivative of ṣkas ‘six,’ q.v. + the distributive suffix -ār. +

+ + +
+

+ṣkito* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, ṣkitai//] +tumeṃ ṣkār ṣkitaine /// (620b2), ///ṣkitaimeṃ nai pauṃtsat /// (620b5). +

+ + +
+

+Ṣkwarle +(n.) +‘Ṣkwarle’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Ṣkwarle, -, -//] +(491a-II). +

+ + +
+

+ṣñassu* +(adj.) +‘seeking possessions’
+[m: //ṣñassoñc, -, -] +[tumeṃ lāntä]śco klā[nte] lykaṃ ce_u ṣñ[a]ssoñcä ‘thereupon those seeking possessions led the thief to the king’ (404a8). +∎A derivative of ṣañ, q.v. +See also ṣañ and ṣñār. +

+ + +
+

+ṣñār +(distributive) +‘each to his own, respective’
+[ṣa]ñ k[e]wän śakātaisa kalṣtär-me ṣñār wepeṃś aśan-me ‘he drives [his] own cattle with a stick; he leads them each to [his] own pastures’ (3a3), ṣñār ekñentasa soytsi lāñco mā campeṃ ‘the kings cannot be satisfied each with [his] own possessions’ (22a3), ṣñār ṣñār mañyeṃ mañyanameṃ nemcek yarke källālyi ‘[you] should achieve certain praise from your respective male and female slaves’ (33a7), istak cai nāgi ṣñār bhavantane yopar ‘at once these nāgas entered each in [his] own dwelling’ (350a4), lwāsa ṣñār wṣeññ[aṃne] ‘the animals each in [its] own lair’ (518b2). +∎A derivative of ṣañ ‘own,’ q.v. + the distributive suffix -ār. +See also ṣañ and ṣñassu. +

+ + +
+

+ṣñike(k) +(adverb) +‘certainly, indeed’
+cey cew yāmorsa ṣñikek parskaṃ ‘they will fear certainly by this deed’ (K-3a2), ske[ye]nmeṃ cenaṃts ṣñīke tsūwa aiśamñe ‘by the efforts of such as these wisdom was indeed constituted’ (PK-AS-16.3b2 [Pinault, 1989:157]). +∎Ultimately a derivative of ṣañ, q.v., and obviously cognate with TchA ṣñikek ‘on the contrary, nevertheless,’ though the difference in meaning is striking. Morphologically it would appear that we have ṣañ + -ike (an adjective forming suffix) + an optional k(ä) (the strengthening particle). The existence in B of ṣñike would appear to make impossible VW's suggestion (457-458) that the A form is original and the B form borrowed. Rather it must be the other way around. +See also ṣañ. +

+ + +
+

+ṣñor* +(n.) +‘sinew’
+[-, -, ṣñor//ṣnaura, -, -] +astāṣṣi meski tne ṣñor passontsa śeśśanmoṣ ‘bone joints bound with sinews and muscles’ (5b1/2), ikañceṃ-[tr]īceṃ ṣukaunne ṣñaura kaktsenne [lege: kektsenne] [tänma-skentär-ne] ‘in the twenty-third week sinews in his body appear’ (603a2). +∎Regularly from PIE *sneh₁wṛ), the plural regularly from *sneh₁wr-eh_a [: Avestan snāvarə ‘sinew,’ Armenian neard (*sneh₁wṛt) ‘sinew, fiber,’ Sanskrit snāvan] (nt.) ‘sinew;’ (thematicized) Greek neûron ‘sinew,’ Latin nervus ‘sinew, muscle, nerve’ (more distant cognates, P:977; MA:568, 571)] (Schulze, 1923, VW:458). +See also Hilmarsson's discussion (1986a:208). +

+ + +
+

+ṣṭakkumo* +a meter of 4 X 12 syllables (rhythm 4/4/4]
+[-, -ṣṭakkumai//] +(107b7). +

+ + +
+

+ṣtal- +See stāl-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣpak +(conj.) +‘and also, moreover; more’
+ṣpak = BHS bhūyas (8b6), ṣpak = BHS ca (14b3), grahanmane meñe ra ṣpäk tāsātai ‘and also as thou hast set the moon among the planets’ (221b1), tane klu pete ~ tane smaññe pete ~ tane ṣpak pete ‘give here rice, give here broth, give here more’ (H-149.X.5b6 [Couvreur, 1954b: 44]), kātkeṃ plontonträ ṣpakkä maiyya tsämsen-ne ‘they enjoy themselves and rejoice, more-over they increase his strength’ (K-2b6). +∎From ṣpä (q.v.) + the strengthening particle k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+ṣpakīye +(nf.) +‘pill, pastille; poultice; [possibly] suppository’ (anything wrapped up or around as a medical treatment--see BHS varti-)
+[ṣpakīye, -, -//ṣpakaiṃ (< *ṣpakaiñ), -,ṣpakaiṃ] +ysārtsanane ṣpakīye warsa [yamaṣä]lya ‘on the bloody [parts] a poultice with water [is] to be put’ (510b1), sā onkarñatstsa ṣpakiye kartse māka ‘this onkarño-having pill; [it is] good [for] much’ (W-8a4). +‣At least partially overlapping semantically with ṣpel and tsatsāpar, qq.v. +∎A borrowing from Khotanese ṣvaka-, ṣvakye- with the same meaning (VW:641, Bailey, 1979:415; Emmerick and Skjärvo/, 1987:147-8, translate ‘suppository’). +

+ + +
+

+ṣpane +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sleep’
+[ṣpane, -, ṣpane//] +[re]kauna plātäṃne inkauṃ wīna kallaṃ kästwer ṣpanene ‘they will find pleasure by day in words and conversations and by night in sleep’ (27a4), snai laiwo ṣpane ‘without tiredness or sleep’ [= BHS atandrita-] (31a5), ṣpänemeṃ āksa ‘he awoke [someone] from sleep’ (373b3), ṣpane takā-ne ‘he was asleep’ [ṣpane = BHS middha-] (541b6), alāsäṃññe ṣpane araṃśne = BHS ālasyatandrihṛdayo (Y-3b3). +∎TchA ṣpäṃ and B ṣpane reflect PTch ṣw'äp(ä)ne. From PIE *swepno- (VW's insistence [460-461] on *sepno- is unnecessary) [: Sanskrit svápna-, Avestan x^vafna-, Latin somnus, Old English swefn, etc. (P:1048-9; MA:527)] (Holthausen, 1921:65). +See also sänmetstse. +

+ + +
+

+ṣparā-yäkre +(n.) +a kind of bird (‘sparrow-hawk’ [?])
+[ṣparā-yäkre, -, -//] +cai kokīl ṣparā-yäkre seri yam[uttsi] (575b2). +∎A compound of /ṣpārā-/ and /yäkre/. B ṣpārā- is presumably an independent bird name and cognate with TchA ṣpār (pl. ṣpārāñ), on etymological grounds ‘± sparrow’ [: Old Icelandic spǫrr (Proto-Germanic *sparwa-), Old English spearwa (Proto-Germanic *sparwan-) (further cognates, P:991; MA:534)]. The Tocharian forms reflect a PIE *spērweh_a- (not *spōreh_a- with VW:460). The relationship between *sporwo- (Proto-Germanic *sparwa-) and *spērweh_a- is the same as that obtaining between Old Icelandic alr, Old English äl ‘awl’ on the one hand and OHG āla ‘id.’ on the other (cf. Darms, 1978:91-102). Within Tocharian B itself we have spertte/spārtto and ṣertwe/ṣārtto. This formation seems to have been productive in both Germanic and Tocharian and (pace Darms) was probably inherited from Proto-Indo-European. +
+B -yäkre (not discussed by VW) may be related to AB yäks- ‘embrace, entangle,’ q.v. The compound as a whole might then have meant ‘sparrow-clutcher’ or the like and designated a hawk or some other raptor (cf. Schleswig-Holstein duben-klemmer ‘(sparrow)-hawk’ [lit. ‘dove clamper, dove-clencher’] or Old Prussian pele-maygis ‘kestrel’ [lit.‘mouse-clencher’], Schmalstieg, 1976:273). Alternatively it might reflect a PIE *yeg^h-ro-, a derivative of *yeg^h- ‘hunt’ [: OHG jagōn ‘to hunt’ (< *yog^h-eh_a-]. The compound as a whole would mean ‘sparrow-hunter.’ +See also yäks-. +

+ + +
+

+ṣparkäṣṣuki * +(n.) +‘± one who puts to flight’
+[//-, -, ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ] +/// [ytā]ri yaṃ [] waṣik kälpaṣṣukiṃ yoñiyai ṣparkäṣ-ṣukiṃ käryorcceṃmpa wat [] yaṃ pāyti kättankäṃ ‘if he goes ... or with the waṣik-stealers, putters to flight of a caravan, or merchants, if he goes [with them], he commits a pāyti-sin’ [yoñiyai ṣparkäṣṣukiṃ = Uyghur arquɣ artatquji, where the latter word means ‘those who destroy’] (330a5). +∎A nomen agentis built on the causative stem of spärk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣpä +(conj.) +‘and’ (conjoins both clauses and words)
+tetkāk ṣp śman-me srūkalñe ‘and [if] death suddenly comes to them’ (1b5), palāte-me makāykne käṣṣī nauṣaññai ṣp plāc akṣā-m=aurtsesa ‘the master praised them much and announced publicly to them an earlier conversation’ (3a7), śa[woṃ]-n=okonta swāreṣṣai [śūke] ‘they ate his fruit--and sweet was the taste’ (3a8), [la]kl[e] snaitse [lege: snaitsñe] tetkāk ṣp känmaṣṣäṃ ‘and suddenly comes suffering and poverty’ (3b7), alāṣmoṃ ṣpä srukoṣ lyelykormeṃ ‘having seen the sick and dead’ [ṣpä = BHS ca] (5a1), ypomna k_uṣaiṃ ṣpä ‘lands and villages’ (Dd6.2.4). +∎Underlyingly /ṣäpä/ (and always enclitic) but of unknown etymology. (Improbable, VW: 460 [drawn analogically from auṣap or oṃṣap].) +See also ṣap, ṣpak, and auṣap/oṃṣap. +

+ + +
+

+ṣpikiye * +(nf.) +‘crutch’
+[-, -, ṣpikai/ṣpīkaine (K-T),-, -/] +t[s]i[r]au[ñ]eṣ[ṣ]ai ṣpikaisa saitsī pre[ke] ‘the time to support [oneself] with the crutch of energy’ (281b3/4), ṣpītai [lege: ṣpīkai] wrattsai lyewetarr-ne postäñe tuk pärweṣṣe mātri [kātsanne] yaipormeṃ (333a2/3). +∎(As if) from PIE *speiku-h₁en- or, more probably, *speikeh_a-h₁en- [: Latin spīca ‘awn,’ Old Icelandic spīkr ‘nail’ (further cognates, P:981)]. Differing only in details, VW:461-462. For the formation, see Adams, 1988d. +See also possibly piśpik. +

+ + +
+

+ṣpinnau +‘?’
+/// te sne [lege: ste] wā ṣpinnau yan nai/// (90b6). +

+ + +
+

+ṣpet +‘?’
+///na ṣai ṣpet kenäṣṣe īke sū /// (339b3). +

+ + +
+

+ṣpel +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘pill, pastille; pellet’
+[ṣpel, -, ṣpel//] +panitäṣṣe ṣpel ṣe prayok ... läksaiñai-klautsaiṣṣe ṣpel ‘a molasses pill [is] one means ... a pill of fish gills [a third]’ (FS-b1), [list of ingredients] läksaña klautso kewiye melteṣe ṣpel te śār kätnālle ‘... fish-gills and cow-dung pellet; this [is] to strewn all over’ (P-2a6). +‣At least partially overlapping in meaning with tsatsāpar and ṣpakīye, qq.v. +∎TchA ṣpal, B ṣpel reflect PTch *ṣpel. (As if) from PIE *spēlo- (nt ), a vṛddhied formation, with s-movable, beside Latin pila ‘ball’ (with dialectal -i- for -e-, cf. silva, fiber). VW:459-460 (P:830, comparing pila with pilus ‘hair’ cannot be correct). +

+ + +
+

+ṣmare +(a) (adj.); (b) (n.) +(a) ‘smooth’; (b) ‘oil’
+(a) [m: ṣmare, -, ṣmare//]; (b) [-, -, ṣmare//] +(a) ṣmare yestse ṣmare ere ṣmare /// [ṣmare = BHS snigdha-] (K-7b2), ṣmare yetse wnolmentse ṣek cpī mäsketrä ‘soft and lovely is always the skin of such a being’ (K-10a3), ṣmare mällarṣke mäsketär-ne palsko ‘smooth and flexible is his spirit’ (K-10b1); +
+(b) snai ṣmäre ramt [mä]kte cok kekesorne ‘without oil as in an extinguished lamp’ (588b8). + -- ṣmarñe ‘oiliness, fattiness, greasiness’: ṣmarñe = BHS sneha- (Y-3a4). +∎From PIE *smer(w)os [: Old Icelandic smjǫr ‘grease, butter,’ Old English smeoru ‘grease,’ Old Irish smiur ‘marrow’ (further cognates [in Latin and Greek], P:970-971; MA:194)] (Duchesne- Guillemin, 1941:167, VW:456). +

+ + +
+

+ṣmāye* +(adj.) +‘prtng to summer’
+[m. //ṣmāyi, -, -] +ṣmāy[i] meñi ‘summer months’ (K. T. Schmidt, 1994: 280). +∎This adjective presupposes an underlying *ṣmiye or *ṣamo ‘summer’ whose nearest relative is TchA ṣme ‘summer.’ The Tocharian words are descendants of the widespread PIE *sem- ‘summer’ [: Old Irish sam ‘summer,’ Old English sumor ‘summer,’ OHG sumar ‘summer,’ Armenian am ‘year,’ Av. ham- ‘summer,’ Sanskrit samā ‘season, year’ (P:905; MA:504)] (K. T. Schmidt, 1994:280). +

+ + +
+

+ṣle-taś +(n.) +‘commander of the mountain region’
+[ṣle-taś, ṣle-taśśäntse, -//] +ṣle-taś pinkäṃYuṣaiśco ‘the commander of the mountain region writes to Y.’ (LP-1a1), ṣle-taśśäntse īkene [] ywārt-taś pinkäṃ ‘in the place of the mountain-commander, the commander of the center writes’ (LP-3a1), ṣle-taś pinkäṃ salyitsai yoñyaine ‘the commander of the mountains writes in the Salt Way’ (LP-7a1). +∎A compound of ṣale and tāś, qq.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣlyamo* +(adj.) +‘flying’
+[f: //ṣlyamñana, -, ṣlyamñana] +kowän lwāsa ṣlyamñana ynamñana ‘[if] he kills flying or running animals’ [‘flying animals’ = birds] (29b8), śle ynämñanā ślye [sic] ṣlyämña[nā] ‘likewise running and flying [animals]’ (343a3), Gloss to A-394a2 (saltās [= B ṣlyamñana] ... lwākiss elant [= B āyornta]). +∎A derivative of säl-, q.v. +See also salamo. +

+ + +
+

+ṣlyaṣṣe +(adj.) +‘full, firm’ (?) or possibly ‘distinct’ (?)
+[m: ṣlyaṣṣe, -, - /ṣlyaṣṣi, -, -/] [f: ṣlyaṣṣa, -, -//] +kātso ... wlaśka lyakwañña ṣlyaṣṣ[a] prakarya ‘a belly ... smooth, lyakwañña, full, and firm’ (73b2), ṣlyaṣṣi snai rūki sprāne ‘firm flanks without wrinkles’ (74a5), ṣlyaṣṣe palsko tākoy ‘may [my] spirit be firm’ (S-8b3). +∎This looks to be an adjective built on the accusative singular noun **ṣaly or **saly (in which case the ṣ- of the adjective would be the result of assimilation to the -ly-). Isebaert (1978b:347) assumes the former and reconstructs a PIE *s(e)il-ih_xo- ‘cordon, entrave,’ an enlargement of *seilo- in OHG seil ‘Seil, Strick, Fessel.’ The meaning ‘compact, firm’ would be from *‘pulled together tightly’ or the like. Van Windekens (1985:482-483) prefers an equation with Serbo-Croation sila ‘strength’ (and possibly Lithuanian síela ‘soul, spirit’). Both are possible but neither is semantically compelling. If we start from *saly and assume a meaning ‘distinct, well-defined,’ it might be that it is an unextended variant of sälyiye ‘limit; streak’ (i.e. **salye, saly). (Cf. ṣotarye implying an unextended **ṣotär beside ṣotri.) If so a derived adjective might mean ‘having clear limits’ > ‘distinct.’ +See also possibly sälyiye. +

+ + +
+

+ṣlyiye +(adj.) +‘prtng to a mountain or hill’
+[m: ṣlyiye, -, ṣlyiye//] +ṣliye = BHS parvatīya- (3a4), ṣlīye lenke ‘mountain valley’ (12a3), ṣleye [sic] gune cau ṣamy ompolskoññe ‘in that mountain cave he meditated’ (297.3.7). +∎A derivative of ṣale, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+ṣwarāṣk* +(n.) +‘?’ (a body part or product)
+[-, -, ṣwarāṣk//] +[list of ingredients] kuñcitäṣṣe ṣalype aṣiye ṣwarāpksa [lege: ṣwarāṣksa?] päkṣalle (W-13b3). +‣Does aṣiye ṣwarāṣk = Khot. būysīña māstai ‘goat's brain’ or būysīña piṃ ‘goat's fat’? +

+ + +
+

+ṣwīye +(nf.) +‘± broth, porridge’
+[ṣwīye, -, ṣuwi//] +traiwo [] kluṣṣa ṣwīye ‘a mixture; rice porridge’ (497a8), yenteṣṣana tekanmane kartse ṣuwisa yāmäṃ ‘for wind diseases, it will do good with the broth’ (Y-2b6). +∎(As if) from PIE *seuh₃-i-h₁en- or *seuh₃-u-h₁en-, a derivative of *seuh₃- (more s.v. sū- ‘rain’). +

+ + +
+

+-sa +perlative postposition +∎More or less equivalent to the TchA perlative -ā. In B the PTch perlative plural *-ns-ā was reanalyzed as *-n-sā when the simplification of final *-ns left the non-perlative plural ending -n (Klingenschmitt, 1975:156). The reshaped *-sā was added to singular and dual forms as well. The shift in morpheme boundaries was presumably favored since it meant that all secondary case-markers in B now began with a consonant. Etymologically PTch *-ā must be identified with Indo-Iranian ā ‘to, up to; among, in; in addition to’ and/or Proto-Germanic *ǟ ~ *ō occurring only as a nominal or verbal prefix ‘(with)out, away from; after.’ +See further ā-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃvatsarajñāṃ* +(n.) +‘horoscope’
+[-, -, saṃvatsarajñāṃ//] +hor vyākaraṃ saṃvatsarajñāṃtsa wa[rñ]ai śas[ta]rma śānmyare ‘they established the treatises on the science of the year, grammar, and the horoscope’ PK-AS-16. 3a4 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎From BHS saṃvatsara- + jñāna- (compound not in M-W or Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+saṃvar +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘restraint, forbearance’
+[saṃvar, saṃvarntse, saṃvar//] +ṣamāññeṣṣe ṣanmīrñeṣṣe _upāsakñeṣṣe saṃvarne ... oktace saṃvarne stmoṣ ‘the forbearance of monks, novices, and laybrothers ... standing in the eightfold forbearance’ (17a7). + -- saṃvaräṣṣe ‘prtng to restraint’: (270a3). +∎From BHS saṃvara-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃvṛtti +(n.) +‘the right effect’ (?) or ‘being’ (?)
+[saṃvṛtti, -, saṃvṛtti//] +(199b4). +∎From BHS saṃvṛtti-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃsār +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cycle of rebirths’
+[saṃsār, saṃsāräntse, saṃsār//] +mā nesäṃ keṃ... saṃsārne e[nte we]s mā srukām ‘there is no place ... in the saṃsāra where we did not die’ (45a6), saṃ[sā]rmeṃ tsälpastsi ‘to be freed from the saṃsāra’ (388a8). + -- saṃsārṣṣe ‘prtng to the saṃsāra’: saṃsāräṣṣe karāśne ce tetrikoṣä ‘lost in this forest of the saṃsāra’ (414a4). +∎From BHS saṃsāra-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃskār +(n.) +‘education’ (?), ‘purification ceremony’ (?)
+(149b3, 158a4). +∎From BHS saṃskāra-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃskāraskant* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, saṃskāraskant//] +(199b3). +∎From BHS saṃskāra- + skandha-? +

+ + +
+

+saṃskṛt +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘perfect(ed)’
+toṃ śtwāra saṃskṛtalakṣanta saṃskṛt pelaiknentaṃ[ts] ‘these four perfect-signs and perfect laws’ (182b3). +∎From BHS saṃskṛta-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃskṛtalakṣaṃ* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘perfect-sign, sign of perfection’ (?)
+[//saṃskṛtalakṣanta, saskṛtalakṣantats, -] +(182b3, 182b5). +∎From BHS saṃskṛtalakṣaṇa. +

+ + +
+

+saṃsthānarūp +(n.) +‘shape, form, appearance’
+(186b2). +∎From BHS saṃsthāna- + rūpa-. +

+ + +
+

+sakāpce +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[sakāpce, -, -//] +(505b1, W-3a5). +

+ + +
+

+sakṛtākāme +(n.) +‘returning only once again [designation of the second order of Buddhists]’
+[sakṛtākāme, -, -//] +(333b4, 552b6). + -- sakṛdāgāmetstse ‘id.’: sa[kṛd]ā-[gām]etse = BHS sakṛdāgāminaḥ (524a7); +
+sakṛtākāmäṃñe ‘position of being a sakṛtāgāmin’: (333b4). +∎From BHS sakṛdāgāmin-. +See also sakṛdāgamiṃ. +

+ + +
+

+sakṛdāgamiṃ +(adj.) +‘returning only once again’
+(K-7b1). +∎From BHS sakṛdāgāmin-. +See also sakṛtākāme. +

+ + +
+

+sakna* +(n.pl.) +‘± rags’ (?)
+[//-, -, sakna] +makte sakna kamāte ‘he himself carried rags [?]’ (12b3), ṣṭallaṣällesa mäskentär po krentauna sakna/// (W-2b2). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (411) connects this word with PIE *sek- ‘cut.’ +

+ + +
+

+sakw +(nnt.) +‘(good) fortune, happiness’
+[sak(w), sk(w)antse, sak(w)//-, skwanmaṃts, skwanma] +t=epinkte sak wī[na] w[ä]rpāt[ai] ‘for a while thou didst enjoy good fortune and honor’ (78b3/4), sak ecce källāṣṣeñca [sak = BHS sukha-] (182a1), [sa]k wa[rpalle] = BHS sukhavedanīyaṃ (532a1), sak = BHS āsvāda- ‘enjoying, eating with relish’ (541a1), po añmantse ekalymiññe sakwä = BHS sarvam ātmanavaśaṃ-sukham TX-1a6 [Thomas, 1974:79]). + -- skwassu ‘fortunate, lucky, happy’: skwassu = BHS sukhin- (23b8), sū skwassu cmela[n]e ‘he [is] fortunate in [his] births’ (24a2); +
+skwaṣṣe ‘prtng to good fortune’: /// plyewsa ram no skwaṣṣe iprerne ‘he flew as if in the air of good fortune’ (unpublished Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1968b:213]); +
+sak(w)-takälyñe ‘state of dwelling with things that are pleasant [to touch]’ (if = BHS sukha[saṃ]sparśa-): sak-takälyñe ceśeṃñca (278a3). +∎Like TchA suk ‘id.’ from Sanskrit (or a Prakrit descendant) sukhá- of the same meaning. Sakw shows the same treatment of Indic -u- as does, say, pat ‘stupa’ from buddha- (Pisani 1941-1942:2; Krause and Thomas, 1964:252). To be rejected as both morphologically impossible and semantically unconvincing is VW's derivation (1941:113, 1976:444) from a PIE *sk^wṇ from *sek^w- ‘follow.’ +See also skwaññ-. +

+ + +
+

+sankakeṃ* +(n.) +‘monastic land’ (?)
+[-, -, sankakeṃ//] +sankakeṃtsa k_uśāneṃ wasam 6000 ‘we gave 6,000 kucānes for the monastic ground’ [?] (490b-I-4). +‣Is this the same as sāngäṣai keṃ at 490-II-2? +∎If correctly interpreted, we have a compound of sānk + keṃ. +

+ + +
+

+Sankatepe ~ Sankatedeve +‘Saṃghadeva’ (PN in monastic records)
+[Sankatepe, Sankatepentse, -//] +(491b-III-1) +

+ + +
+

+sankästere +(n.) +‘monastic overseer’
+[sankästere, -, -//] +sankästere Ślacaṃndre śa[rsa] ‘the monastery-overseer, Śīlacandra knew’ [authenticating a record] (433a3). +∎From BHS *saṃgha-sthavira-. +

+ + +
+

+sankik* +([indeclinable?] adj.) +‘belonging to a monastery’
+[m: -, -, sankik//] +sankik raktsisa ṣamānentse eñatketse mā ceppille mā wsaṣṣälle ‘a monk is not to step on or lie on a mat belonging to the monastery without urging’ (TEB-65-17). +∎From BHS sāṃghika-. +

+ + +
+

+Sankene +(n.) +(PN in monastic records)
+[Sankene, -, -//] +(491a7). +

+ + +
+

+sankentaṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: -, -, sankentaṣṣai//] +sankentaṣai klainsa /// (490b-I-7). +

+ + +
+

+sankrām +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cloister, monastery’
+[sankrām, -, sankrām//-, -, sankrām(ä)nta] +sankrāmiś yatsi omtsate ‘he began to go to the cloister’ (109b1), /// sankrāmnta ptanma ṣpä yamaṣṣate ‘he made for himself cloisters and shrines’ (416b3), mäkte Samantatir sankrām pikwalañe śka anās erkatteṣe-ñ ‘as indeed my monastery of S. was for years miserable and detestable’ (DAM.507a2 [Pinault, 1984a]). +∎From BHS saṃghārāma-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃgrah +(n.) +‘reception, obtaining’ (?)
+(289a5). +∎From BHS saṃgraha-. +

+ + +
+

+Saṃghatrāte +‘Saṃghatrāta’ (PN of the teacher of Prasannaka)
+[Saṃghatrāte, -, -//] +(47a5). +

+ + +
+

+Sanghaśārme +(n.) +‘Sanghaśarma’ (PN in graffito)
+[Sanghaśārme, -, -//] +(G-Su28). +

+ + +
+

+sanghāṭi* +(n.) +‘a monk's robe’
+[-, -, sanghāṭī//] +ausoṣäṃ saṃghāṭi ‘wearing the saṃghāṭi’ (31b7). +∎From BHS saṃghāṭi-. +

+ + +
+

+sanghā-tränko* +(n.) +a particular kind of sin (a graver sin than the stulāñcana sins to which it is opposed)
+[//-, -, sanghā-tränkänta] +tune swāralyñe yamasträ krāke läṃn-ne sanghā-tränkä kätänkäṃ ‘then [if] pleasure is made and filth [i.e. semen] comes out for him, he commits a sanghā-sin’ (334a1). +

+ + +
+

+saṃghārām +See sankrām. +

+ + +
+

+saṃghāvaśeṣ +(n.) +‘a sin which is punished with temporary excommunication’
+[saṃghāvaśeṣ -, saṃghāveśeṣ//] +(325a3). +∎From BHS saṃghāvaśeṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+saccaṣṣe* +(adj.) +pertaining to a plant species
+[f: saccaṣṣa, -, -//] +(97a9, W-14a4). +

+ + +
+

+sañāt +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘controlled’
+empelona kleśanma mai no palsko soyi päst sañāt tākoy ‘may, however, my spirit be satiated with dangerous kleśas; may it be controlled!’ (TEB-64-06). + -- sañāt yām- ‘put [smthg] under control’: spārttalyñeṣṣe yaknesa ṣañ añme saññāt yamaṣälle ‘by the way of turning his own self [is] to be controlled’ (549b1/2). +∎From BHS saṃyata-. +

+ + +
+

+saññauke +‘?’
+///ts ̇n ̇ saññaukeṃ | āñmalāṣlñesa kw ̇/// (364a2), pācer walo saññauke aiśamñesa kekenu (PK- 17.4b4 [Couvreur, 1954c:83]). +

+ + +
+

+Saṃcite* +(n.) +‘Saṃcita’ (PN)
+[-, -, Saṃcite//] +(296a8, 297.1a2). +

+ + +
+

+satāsk- +(vi.) +‘exhale’
+Ps. IXa /sātāsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, satāṣṣäṃ//; MPPl, satāskemane; Ger. satāṣṣälle] +mā satāṣṣäṃ 9 śtarcce dhyām k_use yneś yāmtär (41a2), ṣuk[t] okt śak wat satāṣṣäṃ | ṣkas piś ñu wat no ṣaṃṣtär ‘seven, eight, or ten [times] he breathes out but he counts only six, five, or nine’ (41a8/b1), [mā no] satāṣṣäṃ mā wäskantär mā lkāṣṣäṃ ‘however he doesn't exhale, he doesn't move, he doesn't see’ (606a2). + -- satāṣlñe ‘exhaling, exhalation’: kektseñ palskoś sasainu anāṣṣälñe satā[ṣl]ñ[e] ‘having supported inhaling and exhaling on body and spirit’ (41a1). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps a derivative of the indeclinable adjective, attested only in TchA, sāt ‘hot.’ The semantic development would be something like *‘heat’ > *‘heat by blowing’ > *‘blow out’ > ‘exhale’ (VW:419-420). Further connections are unknown (VW's connection with *b^hes- ‘blow’ is unlikely given the connection with sāt-). Also possible, and certainly semantically more satisfying, is Hilmarsson's suggestion (1991:120) of a compound *swōd-h_a(e)n(h₁)-sḱe/o- where *swōd is an ablaut relative of the *swēd seen in Latin sē(d) ‘away, apart’ and *h_aen(h₁)- is the regular verb for ‘breathe.’ More s.v. anāsk-. +

+ + +
+

+satera +(n.) +‘ounce’
+(W-25b2). +∎From BHS satera-, itself ultimately from Greek statēr. +

+ + +
+

+Satkāravārg* +(n.) +‘Satkāravarga’ (thirteenth chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, Satkāravārgäntse, -//] +(S-4a5). +∎From BHS satkāravarga-. +

+ + +
+

+sattä* +(n.) +‘existence’
+[-, -, sattä//] +(597b3, 597b4). +∎A borrowing from BHS sattā-. +

+ + +
+

+sattvākhye* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, -, sattvākhyeṃ//] +/// [sat]tvākhyeṃ wärñai ce śwarā[ykne] /// (193b9). +

+ + +
+

+satyakār +(n.) +‘± attestation, verification’
+(91a1) +∎From BHS *satyakāra- (not in M-W or Edgerton). +See also or-śacākare. +

+ + +
+

+Satyake +(n.) +‘Satyaka’ (PN)
+[Satyake, Satyaki, -//] +(20a4). +

+ + +
+

+Satyagupte +(n.) +‘Satyagupta’ (PN in graffito)
+[Satyagupte, -, -//] +(G-Qm4). +

+ + +
+

+Satyarakṣī +(n.) +‘Satyarakṣin’ (PN in graffito)
+[Satyarakṣī, -, -//] +(G-Qm8). +

+ + +
+

+Satyarakṣite +(n.) +‘Satyarakṣita’ (PN)
+[Satyarakṣite, -, -//] +(Otani 19.1.1 [Pinault, 1998:364]). +

+ + +
+

+satyai- +‘?’
+satyai/// (LP-112a2). +

+ + +
+

+sanassu +See sāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+sanāp- +(vt.) +‘rub in, rub on, anoint, embrocate’ [dir. obj. may be a patient but is usually a locative]
+Ps. I /sonop-/ [MP -, -, sonoptär//; MPImpf. -, -, sonopitär//; Ger. sonopälle]; Ko. V /sānāpā-/ [Inf. sanāpatsi; Ger. sanapālle ‘to be rubbed’; (as a noun) ‘embrocation’] +sonopitär līkṣītär wästsanma krenta yäṣṣītär ‘he anointed himself, washed himself and put on good clothing’ (A-1a6), se [lege: k_use] ce ṣalype sonopträ ‘whoever rubs in this oil’ (W-40b3), smur kränkaiñai maikisa kauc cankesa kātso sonopälya ‘smur with chicken broth high over the breast, the stomach [is] to be rubbed’ (W-14b1); se ṣalype päścane sanāpatsi ‘this oil [is] to be rubbed on the breasts’ (W-34a5), ṣalype malkwersa päkṣalle aśca sanāpalle ‘oil with milk [is] to be cooked; the head [is] to be embrocated’ (W-39a4), orotstse tsaipau kektseñtsa sanāpalle ‘a great plaster [is] to be rubbed over the body’ (W-41b2). +∎From pre-Khotanese *zənāf- (Khotanese yzänāh-) ‘wash’ < Indo-Iranian *snāp- [: Sanskrit snāpayati, Zoroastrian Pahlevi šnāp ‘swimming’] (Adams, 1988b). Not, with VW (413), an inherited compound *sān- (cf. Latin sānus) + *āp- (cf. AB āp ‘river’). +

+ + +
+

+sanai +See ṣe. +

+ + +
+

+sanu* +(n.) +‘danger’
+[-, -, sanu//snūnma, -, -] +māka omp snūnma ent=ākn[atsañ yama]skenträ ‘many dangers [are] there where fools act’ (44a6/7), sanune kekamu nesau ‘I have come into danger’ (79a6), sanu maskākamñemeṃ [lege: maskw orkamñemeṃ] tall[ā]nt śaiyṣe sälkatai ‘thou has pulled the suffering world out of danger, difficulty, and darkness’ (247b2). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, VW:413 (comparing Sanskrit sanutar- ‘au loin,’ sanutya- ‘stranger,’ etc.). +

+ + +
+

+sanuññe* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘enmity’
+[-, -, sanuññe//] +s[n]ai k[e]ś sanuññe ‘numberless enmity’ (24b7), /// sanuññ=ālyauce ‘enmity with one another’ (27a5), mākā-ñatsecce sanuññ[esa] yamaske[nträ] ‘they act out of the enmity of great need’ (35b1). +∎A derivative of sāṃ ‘enemy,’ q.v. (for the form, compare lantuññe ‘royalty’ from lānt [acc. sg.] ‘king’). +

+ + +
+

+santāṃ* +(n.) +‘birth-cycle’
+[-, -, santāṃ//] +po ono[lme täṅwa]ññ[e]ñca ket ra santāṃne ‘loving all beings who [are] in the birth-cycle’ (30b3/4). +∎From BHS saṃtāna-. (The native equivalent is cmelaṣṣe serke, see also saṃsār.) +

+ + +
+

+saṃtkīnau +(n.m.) +‘doctor, physician’
+[saṃtkīnau (also voc.), -, saṃtkīnant//saṃtkīnañc, -, -] +śaiṣṣ=ālāṣmo laukäññeṣai snaiy santkīnaṃnt ‘the world was sick, long without a doctor’ (212b2), saṃtkinaṃś kaṣ[ā]ynta pakseṃ ‘the physicians cook [their] medicinal potions’ (324a5). +∎From sāṃtke, q.v. Compare TchA sāṃtkenu. +

+ + +
+

+saṃnipāt +(n.) +‘gathering, assembly of people’
+(170b3). +∎From BHS saṃnipāta-. +

+ + +
+

+saṃnipātik +(n.) +‘complicated disease (especially a difficult one brought about by the derangement of all three humors)’
+[saṃnipātik, -, -//] +(P-2a1). + -- sannipātikäṣṣe* ‘prtng to a saṃnipātik disease’ (497a8). +∎From BHS sāṃnipātika-. +

+ + +
+

+sapule +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘pot’
+[sapule, -, sapule//] +wsecce sapule = BHS viṣakumbha (534b3). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (414) who connects it with Greek hépō ‘am occupied with,’ Avestan hap- ‘hold,’ Sanskrit sápati ‘applies oneself to.’ +

+ + +
+

+sape +See spe. +

+ + +
+

+samanit +(adj.) +‘assembled, convoked’ [only attested as part of the phrasal verb samanit yām- (tr.) ‘assemble, convoke’]
+sa[n]k[a]meṃ ṣamāni samanit yāmoṣ ṣeyeṃ pelaikne āksi ‘monks from the community were assembled to [have] the law announced [to them]’ (PK-AS-18B-a3/4 [Pinault, 1984b:376]). +∎From BHS samānīta-, past participle of sam-ā-nī-. +

+ + +
+

+Samantatir +(n.) +‘Samantatir’ (PN of a monastery)
+[Samantatir, -, Samantatir//] +(DAM.507a1 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +

+ + +
+

+samāgrä +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘harmonious’
+(36a5). +∎From BHS samagra-. +

+ + +
+

+samākane* +(n.[dual]) +‘cuirass’ (??)
+[/-, -, samākane/] +kt^. - - - mälkau kreñcä samākane [] empreṃ pilko warñai krentä [lege: krenta] okt pokaiyñ[o] [] aiyś[a]mñeṣṣeṃ yepeṃ enku waiyptār maśne | Wikṣṇu nest [t]we poyśiññeṣṣe po yukṣeñcai ‘gathering up the good samākane, true insight, etc., [are] the eight arms; seizing separately in the fists the weapons of wisdom, O Viṣṇu, thou art all knowing and all conquering’ (214b2), /// samak^. laupāre /// (260a3). +‣Hilmarsson (1989b) suggests ‘eyelids’ for the meaning of this word but the martial nature of 214b2 suggests the possibility of a weapon or defense. Perhaps ‘cuirass’ or ‘corslet,’ dual as in Mycenean qe-ro₂ or Homeric diplóos ... thōrēks. +∎Perhaps we have a borrowing from some Middle Iranian source similar to that which gave Khotanese samuvā- ‘scales (of a lizard), covering parts’ (Bailey, 1979:420, with some possible but quite distant connections). +

+ + +
+

+samādhi* +(n.) +‘concentration, trance’
+[-, -, samādhi//-, -, samādhinta] +(199a2). + -- samādhiṣṣe ‘prtng to a trance’: (214a5). +∎From BHS samādhi-. +

+ + +
+

+samāṃ +(n.) +‘?’
+[samāṃ -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients (W-18a4). +

+ + +
+

+samai +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘agreement, arrangement’
+[samai, -, samai//] +(319b3, 319b4). +∎From BHS samaya-. +

+ + +
+

+samasattu +(n.) +the name of a medical remedy
+[samasattu, -, -//] +(497a5). +

+ + +
+

+samudtär +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘sea, ocean’
+[samudtär, -, samudtär//samudtärnta, samudtärntaṃts, samudtärnta] +cmelṣe samudtär ‘the sea of birth’ (29a7), ///ṣeme samudtär [] śatkäṣṣeñca ‘crossing one ocean’ (29b2), po yaneṃ samudtärśc aiwol ‘all [rivers] go directed towards the sea’ (30a8), k_use kätkanaṃ samutträ = BHS ye taranty ārṇavaṃ (PK-NS-107a1 [Thomas, 1976b:105]), intriṣṣe samuddär mā soyässi cämyāwa ‘I couldn't satiate the sea of sense-impressions’ (TEB-63-01). +∎From BHS samudra-. +

+ + +
+

+samp +(demonstrative/pronoun) +‘that (one)’
+[m: sam(p), cwim(p), com(p)//caim(p), cempaṃts, -] [f: som(p), -, -//] [n: tam(p), -, -//]. +∎Here we have PTch *sä-, the stem of the demonstrative pronoun (see discussion s.vv. su and se) + some deictic element *-m- (cf. Sanskrit amú?). The -p often seen in this pronoun is etymologically only the devoiced, denasalized off-glide of an -m ending a stressed monosyllable. However, this -p has been phonemicized and become incorporated in the stem to produce cempaṃts. +

+ + +
+

+sampauca +(n.) +‘one who takes (away)’
+[sampauca, -, sampaucai//] +[sruka]lñe ste sampauca ‘death is the one who takes away’ (4a3), /// akalkänta sampaucai saṃsār[n]e /// ‘one taking away wishes in the saṃsāra’ (227a3). +∎A derivative of sāmp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Sarasike* +(n.) +‘Sarasika’ (PN)
+[-, Sarasiki, -//] +(514b3, 514b7). +∎From BHS sarasika- ‘Indian crane’? +

+ + +
+

+sarit +only in the compound verb sarit yām- ‘memorize’
+[gr]aṃ[th]aṃñana śastarma sarit yamaṣy[e]ṃ ‘they memorized the canonical books’ (PK- AS-16.3a6/b1 [Pinault, 1989:157]). +∎From the past participle of the Pali verb sāreti ‘memorizes’ (cf. BHS smārayati). +

+ + +
+

+sark* +(n.) +‘back (of the body)’
+[-, -, sark//] +śarye wassi rutkāte kaunäś sark kauc yāmṣate ‘he took of his outer garment and put his back full to the sun’ (5b4), sark = BHS pṛṣṭha- (Y2a4). +∎Obviously to be connected with TchA särśi if, as is usually assumed, that word means ‘backbone.’ Whether these two words are further to be connected with serke [A sark] ‘series, chain’ (so VW:423) is doubtful. Such a connection would be semantically appealing for ‘backbone’ but not so for ‘back’ yet A särśi is obviously derived from the ancestor of B sark rather than vice versa. All attestations of sark would seem to mean ‘back.’ Note that the presumed TchB **sark ‘sickness’ (cognate with undoubted TchA särk ‘id.’) seems not to exist. Melchert (p.c.) very plausibly suggests a connection of B sark/A särśi with Anatolian sark- ‘high’ (cf. also ṣärk-). Sark would have been originally ‘ridge, high point’ or the like. +

+ + +
+

+sarki* +(n.) +‘woof’ [or ‘warp’?]
+[-, -, sarki//] +mäkte ña[re] tne pännowo kos sarkimpa w[o]p[o]trä ‘as here the stretched thread as often he weaves it with woof’ (3b5), kleś yāmorṣṣe ñare sä[rkine] /// ‘the thread of kleśa and deed in the woof ...’ (286a6). +∎[As if] from PIE *sṛkuh₁en-, a derivative of *serk- ‘plait, twist, intertwine’ [: Greek hérkos ‘fence, enclosure; net,’ Latin sarcīre ‘to mend, patch, repair,’ Hittite sarnink- ‘compensate, repair’ (P:912)] (Couvreur, 1950:128); wrongly rejected by VW (414). +See also serke. +

+ + +
+

+sargga +(n.) +‘chapter, division (of a book)’
+[sargga, -, -//] +(144a3). +∎From BHS sarga-. +

+ + +
+

+sarja +(n.) +‘Shorea robusta Gaertn. f.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[sarja, -, -//] +wärmiye tsarātre sakāpce sarja yarm ‘ant-extract, sakāpce, Shorea robusta, [each] a measure’ (W-3a5). +∎From BHS sarja-. +

+ + +
+

+sarjaras +(n.) +‘sap of Shorea robusta’ (a medical ingredient)
+[sarjaras, -, //] +(W passim). +∎From BHS sarjarasa-. +

+ + +
+

+sarpe +(n.) +‘snake’
+[sarpe, -, sarpe//] +niśācare sarpempa ‘the jackal with the serpent’ (511b3), nakule wai sarppe/// ‘the mongoose and snake’ (512b3). +∎From BHS sarpa-. +

+ + +
+

+sarmwātstse* +(adj.?) +‘?’
+[f: -, -, sarmwātstsai//] +otaṃk Tukikäṃntse peri sarmwātsai śinkentse yap wsāwa cāk tärya taum (462a5). +

+ + +
+

+sarrīwenta* +(n.) +‘purpose, design’ (?) or ‘endeavor, attempt’ (?) [Thomas, 1983:192]
+[//-, -, sarrīwenta] +/// [bo]dhisātwentso sa[rr]i[w]enta erṣa]lye [sic] (384a6), /// [sarri]wenta ekṣalye 2 jātak yamalñeṣṣe [lege: yamalñeṣṣana] bodhisatveṃts sarrīwenta ekṣaly[e] (600b1), nesalñeṣṣana bodhisatveṃts sarrīwenta ekṣalye (600b2). +∎Etymology obscure. Usually taken as the "pluraltative" of sārri ‘community,’ q.v. (so Krause and Thomas, 1964, VW:418) but there is nothing in the contexts in which it occurs to force such a semantic conclusion and even for those who believe in the existence of a "pluraltative" in Tocharian this form must be considered morphologically irregular (one would expect **sarriyaiwenta or **sarraiwenta or the like). +

+ + +
+

+Sarvārthasiddhe +(n.) +‘Sarvārtasiddha’ (by-name of the Buddha) (PN)
+[Sarvārthasiddhe, -, -//] +(612a6). +∎From BHS sarvārtasiddha-. +

+ + +
+

+Sarvvajñāna +(n.) +‘Sarvajñāna’ (PN in graffito)
+[Sarvvajñāna, -, -//] +(G-Su22). +

+ + +
+

+Sarwañatewe +(n.) +‘Sarvajñadeva’ (PN of a monastic official)
+[Sarwañatewe, -, -//] +(433a13, 433a32. ) +

+ + +
+

+Sarwarakṣite +(n.) +‘Sarvarakṣita’ (PN)
+[Sarwarakṣite, -, -//] +(433a15. ) +

+ + +
+

+Sarwatte +(PN?)
+/// sānksa sarwatte āy/// (479a1). +

+ + +
+

+sal +([indclinable] adj.) +‘dirty’
+k_use sal ṣarne yāmu yākoy tesa nāṣṣi istak astare ‘whoever may have made [his] hands dirty, by this he may bathe, suddenly he is clean’ (P-2b6). +∎From PIE *solh_x- [: Germanic, e.g. English sallow (< *solh_xwo-], Schwentner, 1955:117 (P:879; MA:160). The Tocharian represents a PIE zero-grade *sḷh_x-. Similar is VW (411-412) who reconstructs *s_elu-. Perhaps (Melchert, p.c.) Hittite salpa- ‘dog-dung’ (*solh_x-Po) belongs here as well. +

+ + +
+

+salamo +(adj.) +‘flying’
+[m: salamo, -, -//] [f: //salamñana, -, -] +salamo luwo [ramt] /// ‘like a flying animal’ [‘flying animal’ = ‘bird’] (404a3). +∎From säl-¹, q.v. +See Cf. ṣlyamo. +

+ + +
+

+salañce +(n.) +‘salt encrusted ground, saline soil’ (?)
+[salañce, -, -//-, -, salañcäṃ] +/// [ka]rāśne salañcäntsa keṃ kruññaimpa tasem/// ‘in the forest, comparing ground [that has] salt encrusted soils with kruññai’ (FK-590b1 [Thomas, 1972a: 229]), kärweñi yare tarśkañ salañce mäskenträ pākri ‘stones, gravel, potsherds [?], and salt encrusted ground appear’ (K-8b4). +‣The meaning is a plausible etymological guess of Sieg's (1938:39). +∎A derivative of salyiye, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+salpi* +(adj.) +‘blazing’
+[m: -, -, sälpiṃ//] +onmiṣṣana pwārasa tsäksemane marmanma ... sälpiñ cittsa wolokmar ‘burning [my] blood vessels with the fires of remorse, I stand with blazing spirit’ (TEB-64-05). +∎From sälp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+salyiye +(nf.) +‘salt’
+[salyiye, -, sālyi//-, - salyiṃ] +āmpäl śuke salyiṃ ṣpä malkwermpa eweta = BHS cāmlāṃ dravam adravaṃ ca payasā sahā viruddham (ST-a6), sintāp-salyiye yamaṣlya curm lykaśke ‘rock-salt; a fine powder [is] to be made’ (Y-1b4), Y2b4 (sālyi). + -- salyitstse* ‘salty’: ywārt-taś pinkäṃ salyitsai yoñyaine ‘the commander-of-the-center writes on the Salt Way’ (LP-3a1), salyitsana swarona śwatsanma yoktsanma ‘with salty and sweet foods and drinks’ (Y-3b6). +∎Reflects a PTch *sali-h₁en-, a derivative of PIE *sali- [: Sanskrit sali-la- ‘salty; ocean,’ Armenian saɫ (an i-stem), Old Latin sale (n.) ‘salt,’ OCS solь (f.) ‘salt,’ more distantly Greek háls (m.) ‘salt,’ (f.) ‘sea,’ Latin sāl (m.) ‘salt,’ Gothic salt, Old English sealt, Lithuanian saldùs ‘sweet,’ OCS sladъ ‘id.,’ etc. (P:878-879; MA:498)] (Meillet and Lévi, 1911:147, VW:417). +See also salañce. +

+ + +
+

+sawāsa* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, sawāsanta] +[wināṣṣä]lyñesa pālalyñesa warñai yarke yāmormeṃ te akālk ñäṣṣalle k_uce klautkesa twe aṣanīka sawāsa[nta] y[olai]ñenta[nts] ākesa śem [2nd sg.] (PK-NS-48+258a2/3 [Pinault, 1991]). +

+ + +
+

+saṣṣe +‘?’
+/// ̇s ̇ saṣṣe pañä[kte] /// [word separation uncertain] (396a3). +

+ + +
+

+saswe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘lord’
+[saswe, säswentse, säsweṃ (voc. saswa)//säsweñ, -, säsweṃ] +ñäś cī artaskemar säsweno ‘I recognize thee [as my] lord’ (44a1), kamartiki säsweñ ‘rulers and lords’ (65a2), saim-wästa pācer pūdñäkta saswa ‘refuge, father, Buddha and lord!’ (237b1), pyāmtso säswentse yaitkor ‘keep [lit: make] the command of the lord!’ (589b3). +∎Etymology uncertain. Not with VW (639) a borrowing from some Prakrit descendant of Sanskrit śaśvant- ‘numerous, frequent, uninterrupted, all.’ Nor should we see here an inherited reduplication of the PIE reflexive pronoun *swe- (Pisani, 1942-43a:28). Perhaps from a putative PIE *h₁su-suh_xó- ‘well-born’ (not unlike Greek eugenēs ‘well-born, noble’ and also similar to German geboren in the sense ‘noble’). The Tocharian probably suggests a PIE *h₁sú-suh_xo- with nominalizing accent retraction. +See also soy. +

+ + +
+

+sahadeve* +(n.) +‘one with the gods’ (?)
+[//sahadevi, -, -] +[ñäkciyana śa]mñāṃśkana sahadevi tilādevi (509a4). +∎From BHS saha-deva-? +

+ + +
+

+sahāye +(nm.) +‘companion, follower’
+[sahāye, -, -//] +/// sahāye ra ste ‘he is like a companion’ (23a8), imeṣṣe tsirauñeṣṣe sahāye mā ñiś āri (104a5=S-8a5). +∎From BHS sahāya-. +

+ + +
+

+sāk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘remain (behind)’; K¹ (tr.) ‘restrain’ [only attested in the middle with a reflexive pronoun as the direct object: ‘restrain oneself’], (intr./middle) ‘remain, abide’; K² ‘restrain’ (?)
+G PP /sāsākā-/; +
+K¹ Ps. VIII /sāks^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, sākṣtär//]; +
+K² Ps. IX /sākäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, sākäṣṣäṃ//-, -, sākäskeṃ; APl. sākäṣṣeñca] +pauśyenta āṣkar [sa]sākauwa ṣeyeṃ ‘the tribute-payments were in arears’ [?] (Otani-II-11 [Thomas, 1957:306]); /// [poy]ś[i]ntaṃts no nanāku su ṣañ añm s[a]kṣtär empa[lkaitte] ‘reproached, however, by the Buddhas, he holds himself back undisturbed’ (520b2), /// [pe]laikne sakṣträ se śaul ṣpä musketär ‘the law abides but this life disappears’ (55a3); /// lyakur akartte klyommont palsko sākäske [lege: sākäskeṃ ?] tu ttu tārka-ñ ‘... they leave behind the noble spirit; it will release it for me’ [?] (109b7), [pāka]śāsanäṣṣe wimāṃ sākäṣṣeñcaṃ okt o[rocce]ṃ dakṣiṇākeṃ ‘the eight great dakṣiṇakas leaving behind Indra's palace’ (361a5), ṣpakaiṃ yamaṣṣällona motstsa āśne yamaṣṣälle pärsareṃ nakṣäṃ mlutālle sākäṣṣäṃ smāṃ olyapotstse kartse ‘pills [are to] be made; it [is to] be done with alcohol on the head; it destroys headaches (?); it restrains morbid-baldness; a repetiton [is] very good’ (W-3a4). +‣The meaning of the Grundverb and the first causative are clarified, to a certain extent at least, by their TchA parallels. The preterite of the Grundverb (sākā-) appears at A-340b4: Koṭikarṇe täm pälkāt mroskat [śkaṃ sñike]k sāk tām wṣe tänmek pälkāt n_unak ‘K. saw this and was disgusted [by it]; nevertheless he remained. At night he saw exactly the same thing again.’ Corresponding to the TchB present VIII we have a TchA present VIII at A-7a3: nunak pältsänkāṣ kus nu cämpiṣtamne kräntsonāṃ tamne-tkanā tamne-praṣtā kälporäṣāñcäm sākässi ‘again he thinks: who however could, if having found so beautiful a woman at such a place and at such a time, hold himself back.’ +∎TchA sāk- and B sāk- reflect PTch sāk-, probably (as if) from PIE *sog^h-eh_a- (an iterative- intensive) from *seg^h- [: Greek ékhō ‘I hold, have, possess,’ ískhō (by psilosis from *hískhō < *sísg^hō) ‘hold check, restrain’ (tr.), ‘stop’ (intr.), euōkhéō (act.) ‘entertain sumptuously,’ (mid.) ‘enjoy, relish,’ Sanskrit sáhate ‘prevails, is victorious,’ also sāhati, Middle Irish seg (m.) ‘strength,’ Gothic sigis (nt.) ‘victory,’ etc. (P:888-889; MA:123-124)] (Holthausen, 1921:66, VW:416, with differing details). TchA present saka-, and its possible TchB counterpart *soko- (PTch *sāke-), might reflect a PIE thematic third person singular middle *sōǵ^hó(to)r (cf. the active counterpart in Sanskrit sāhati and also the Greek deverbative noun *hōkho- that lies behind Greek euōkhéō). +

+ + +
+

+sākäske +See sāk-. +

+ + +
+

+sākre* +(adj.) +‘blissful, happy; blessed, auspicious’
+[m://sakreñ, -, -] +sakreñ (H-149.199a4 [K-T]). +‣The meaning is based on the almost certain correspondence with TchA sākär (= BHS bhadra-). +∎Pace VW (417) the equation of these words with Latin sacer ‘sacred’ [: also sācris ‘id.,’ sacerdōs (m./f.) ‘priest,’ Umbrian sakro- ‘sacred,’ Oscan sakri- ‘id.,’ further Latin sanciō ‘hallow; establish a law,’ sanctus ‘sanctified,’ Sancus an Umbrian/Sabine divinity, Latin sagmen ‘sacred bundle of grass cut from the mountain,’ Hittite saklai- ‘rite, custom’ (P:878; MA:493)] seems certain (Pisani, 1941-1942b:2, and earlier VW, 1942:938). +

+ + +
+

+sākṣi* +(n.) +‘witness’ (?)
+[//sākṣiñ, -, -] +///k sākṣiñ ñke (623a3). +∎If from BHS sākṣin-. +

+ + +
+

+Sāgare* +(n.) +‘Sagara’ (PN of a king)
+[-, Sāgari, -//] +(TEB-59-30). +

+ + +
+

+Sāṅuṃ +(n.) + ‘Sāṅuṃ’ (PN)
+[Sāṅuṃ -, -//] +(289b2). +

+ + +
+

+sānk +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘community; following; monastery’
+[sānk, sankantse, sānk//] +pudñäkt[e mäskiträ Śrā]vastī spe sānkämpa ‘the Buddha found himself near Ś. with his following’ (5a1/2), makte kakāte ṣuk-kauṃ poyśiṃ sānkämpa ‘he himself entertained for a week the Buddha and his following’ (22a7), ysomo sankantse ra reki ‘also the word of the gathered community’ (42a7), sankameṃ pepranku ‘excluded from the community’ (329b1), po sāṅne teśitä yamaṣällona ‘all in the community [are] to make a con-fession’ (334a3), ṣkas meñantse-ne sānkiś ... yikṣye tarya tom ‘on the sixth of the month to the community 3 tom of flour’ (433a21), sak sankantse = BHS sukhāsaṃghasya (U-19a2). + -- sānkäṣṣe* ‘prtng to the monastery’: sāngäṣai kenne ‘on the monastery grounds’ [?] (490b-II-2). See also sankakeṃ. +∎From BHS saṃgha-. +

+ + +
+

+sāṃkhye +(n.) +‘adherent of the sāṃkhyā doctrine’
+[sāṃkhye, -, -//-, sāṃkhyeṃts, -] +(201b5, 202a2). +∎If from BHS sāṃkhya-. +

+ + +
+

+sāñ +(n.) +‘plan, skill’
+[sāñ, -, sāñ//sañanma, -, -] +sāñ upā[y]n[e e]pastye poyśi saswe jaṭilñe sānk päs wāya (108b2), /// sañanma=ākṣāsta ‘thou didst announce the skills’ (520a1), kr_ui ksa täne sāñ tākoy-cä poñ ñäke ‘if you would have a skill, speak now!’ (PK-12L-a4 [Thomas, 1979:13]). +∎A borrowing from Khotanese saña ‘expedient, means of success’ or possibly the Northwestern Prakrit saña- ‘plan, skill’ from which the Khotanese itself is borrowed (Konow, 1932:179, Bailey, 1967: 354-5, VW:640). Compare TchA ṣāñ ‘id.’ +

+ + +
+

+sātäṃ +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘accomplishment, success’
+[sātäṃ -, -//] +(M-3a5). +∎From BHS sādhana-. +

+ + +
+

+sādharik-anandārś* +(n.) +name of a meter (meter and rhythm unknown)
+[-, -, sādharik-anandārś//] +(583a5). +

+ + +
+

+sādhuke* +(n.) +‘holy man (?)’
+[//-, -, sādhukeṃ] +(109b6). +∎If from BHS *sādhuka- (not in M-W or Edgerton), a derivative of the attested sādhu-. +

+ + +
+

+sādṛśyäññe* +(n.) +‘resemblance’
+[-, sādṛśyäñeṃntse, -//] +(181a2). +∎From BHS sādṛśya-. +

+ + +
+

+sādṛśyaviśeṣäñe +(n.) +‘resemblance-distinction’ (?)
+sādṛśyaviśeṣäñe sū tane nikāya/// (181a2). +∎If from BHS sādṛśya- + viśeṣa-. +

+ + +
+

+sāṃ +(nm.) +‘enemy’
+[sāṃ sanaṃtse, sanaṃ/sañī, sānänts ~ sanaṃts, sananäṃ ~ sanaṃ] +sāṃ empe[le] ‘the dangerous enemy’ (21b8), tsälpaṣṣimar śaiṣṣe ce kleśanmasṣṣeṃ sānaṃnmeṃ ‘may we free this world from the kleśa-enemies!’ (228a1/2), mā nesäṃ pilkontampa eneśle sām [lege: sāṃ] ‘it is not an enemy with evil ideas’ [= BHS ripu] (251a2), śāmñe ayāṣe ṣat ... sanaṃtse yoñiyene tsapanale ‘a sliver of human bone [is to] be pushed into groin of [the figurine of] the enemy’ (M-2a4). + -- sanassu* ‘inimical’: sana[ssontänne] = BHS vairikeṣu (TX-1b5 [Thomas, 1983:204]), snai-sānassoñc = BHS avairikāḥ (TX-2b5 [ibid.]). +∎A borrowing from Khotanese sāna- ‘enemy’ or from a related Iranian language (Sieg, 1938:4, fn. 2, Hansen, 1940:156, VW:639). +See also sanuññe. +

+ + +
+

+sānti* +(n.) +‘twilight’
+[-, -, sānti//] +/// [sā]ntine ramt kauṃ tapāki ramt ñ[ä]kcy[ai] lak_utsai ñäkcye rätreṃeṃ śūksa (73a1/2), sa[ndhi]ne kaun ra ‘like the sun in the twilight’ (244b1). +∎From BHS saṃdhyā. +

+ + +
+

+sāṃtke +(nnt.) +‘medicine, remedy’
+[sāṃtke, -, sāṃtke//saṃtkenta, saṃtkeṃts, saṃtkenta] +wace ṣarsa [saṃ]tkenta laupoy-ne āñu yamī-ne ‘with the other hand he might spread medicines [on] him and give him peace’ (154b1), śaiṣṣ=ālāṣmo laukäññe ṣai snaiy santkīnaṃnt täryāka-ṣūkt sāṃtkentampa traiywatai twe [] sāṃtk= onwaññe ‘the world was sick, long without a doctor and you mixed the thirty-seven medicines, the medicine of immortality’ (212b2/3), cwī saṃtkenta saṃtkīnau ñāssa ñṣalle ‘the doctor with his medicines [is] urgently to be sought’ (286b4), sälpallentse sāṃtke ‘remedy for fever’ (497a8), toṃ satkenta lykaśke waltsanalle ‘[one is] to grind fine these medicines’ (W-33b1). +∎From some Prakrit equivalent of BHS śāntaka-. +See also saṃtkinau. +

+ + +
+

+sāpās +(n.) +sp. of medicinal plant
+[sāpās, -, //] +(W-35b1, W-38a4). +

+ + +
+

+sām +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘similar [amount], like [amount]’
+kete ñemtsa yāmäṃ cwi śaulampa sām yolo mäsketrä ‘with whosoever's name one does [this], to him is life-long evil’ (M-1b9), /// mlucku kuñcitṣe sām aṣiye malkwersa ṣpärkaṣṣälle ‘ ... ground sesame, [each] one the same [measure] [is to] be dissolved in goat's milk’ (W-7a6), ... kurkamäṣṣu ptsāñäṣe sām malkwersa onkarño päkṣalle ‘ ... and saffron stigmas, [each] one the same [measure], with milk, a porridge [is to] be cooked’ (W-7b4). +∎Etymology uncertain. With TchA sam, B sām is possibly inherited from PIE *som(h_x)om and *sōm(h_x)om respectively (cf. Greek homós ‘like, comparable,’ Old Norse samr ‘same,’ more s.v. ṣe [cf. MA:499]). So Meillet, 1911-12:285, Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:176, Winter, 1961:279, VW: 412-413. Possibly (with Krause and Thomas, 1964:152, 253) a borrowing from Sanskrit (or some Prakrit) sāma- (so also Hilmarsson, 1986a:93). In either case the difference in vowel between A and B is difficult. +See also ṣe. +

+ + +
+

+sāmp- +(vt.) +‘take (away), deprive’
+Ps. IXa /somp-/ [MP -, -, sompastär//]; Ko. V /sāmpā-/ [Inf. sampatsi]; Ipv. I /p(ä)sāmpā-/ [MPSg. psāmpar]; Pt. Ib /sāmpā/ [MP -, -, sampāte//-, -, sampānte]; PP /sāsāmpā-/ +spelke sompastär krentats sū wnolmets ‘Den Eifer nimmt ein solcher den guten Wesen’ [Sieg, Siegling, 1949:25] (17b1), papāṣṣorñeṣṣe śaul cwi sompastär ‘he takes from him the life of [moral] behavior’ (17b4), sompasträ peñyai śāsants[e] ‘he takes away the glory of the teaching’ (19b1), [ś]aul sompastar-ñ ‘thou takest away my life’ (60a3); ce wästsi sū samp[a]ts[i] /// (138a2); [ma]pi psāmpar ñiś [ceṃ rakṣa]tsenmeṃ loke ‘then take me away from these rākṣasas’ (85b4); ciṣe tsārwo sampā[te-ñ] ‘Die Freude an dir nahm er (mir) fort’ [Sieg, Siegling, 1953:308] (496a7); sassāmpaṣ (Couvreur, 1954c:89). +∎Etymology dubious. The alternation somp- ~ sāmpā- suggests a PTch *semp- ~ sempā- with quasi-regular rounding of *-e- to -o- in the labial environment (cf. omp(e), ompakwätñe) and regular ā-umlaut. Probably related in some way to TchA sum- (present sumnā-) with the same meaning and reflecting perhaps PTch *sämpnā-/*semp(ā)- with different analogical generalizations in the two languages. VW's connection (445-446) with PIE *sem- ‘one; unite’ (more s.v. ṣe) is possible semantically but no other IE group shows a labial extension to this root. (VW's *sem-w- does not convince phonologically.) +See also sampauca. +

+ + +
+

+sārathi* +(n.m.) +‘guide’
+[-, -, sārathiṃ//] +(313a5, S-5a5). +∎From BHS sārathi-. +

+ + +
+

+sārthavāhe* +(n.m.) +‘caravan-leader, merchant, trader’
+[//sārthavāhi, -, -] +ñakti śāmna lāñc amācänta osta-ṣmeñcaṃ sārthavā[h]i ‘gods, men, kings, ministers, householders, and merchants’ (408a5). +∎From BHS sārthavāha-. +

+ + +
+

+sārm* +(n.) +‘seed’
+[-, -, sārm//-, -, sarmana ~ sārmna] +/// sārmnaś [] totka sārm śūwaṃ ‘... for the seeds; [if] he eats little of the seed’ (26b2), mäkte tne lāñe nakṣäṃ sarmana taṃtsäṣṣäṃ pya[py]aiṃ kauṣäṃ okonta ‘as the flood scatters the seeds, disperses the flowers, and kills the fruits’ (33b7), pyapyai stāna ṣarmna [lege: sarmna] okonta (A-4a3). +∎From sāry- (q.v.) + -m. +

+ + +
+

+sāry- +(vt.) +‘plant’
+Pt. Ib /sāryā-/ [MP -, -, saryāte//] +saryat=ompä poyśintse asāṃspe kenne witskaṃ ‘he planted the roots there in the ground near the Buddha's seat’ (388a2). +‣The meaning, at least from this context, must be ‘to plant’ rather, than as usually given ‘to seed, to sow.’ +∎TchA sāry- and B sāry- reflect a PTch sāry-. Since in both languages we actually have sāryā- we may have here a denominative from *serye. That in turn would be derived from PTch *sär-y^'ä/_e- (cf. A säryām ‘seed’). The PTch verb would be similar in formation to Greek heírō ‘I attach, interlace’ [: also Latin serere ‘attach, enchain,’ etc. (P:911)] (Schrader/Nehring, 1919:583, VW:418-419, though differing in details). The semantic development might be something like *‘put in a row’ (cf. Latin series) > ‘plant (in a row).’ Alternatively we might see the whole Tocharian family to reflect a PIE *soh₁ṛ ‘seed’ from *seh₁- ‘sow’ (P:890; MA:534). Particularly we might compare Lithuanian sóra ‘millet,’ Latvian sãra ‘common millet.’ +See also sārm and possibly ṣaiweññai. +

+ + +
+

+sārri* +(n.) +‘assembly’
+[-, -, sār(r)i//] +/// [ka]kkāk[a]rmeṃ sārri warpoṣäṃts enepre/// (91b2), sū sārine masa ‘he went into the assembly’ (337b2), [tu]meṃ poñc klenkenmeṃ korponträ painesa ka sārriś yatsi auntsante ‘then all descend from the wagons and immediately they began to go on foot to the assembly’ (PK-AS-17K-b2 [Pinault, 1987:82]). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (418) assumes a derivation from PIE *sed- ‘sit.’ +

+ + +
+

+sālaparṇi +(n.) +‘Desmodium gangeticum DC’ (a medical ingredient)
+[sālaparṇi, -, -//] +(500a6). +∎From BHS śālaparṇi-. +

+ + +
+

+sāle +(n.) +‘ground; basis’
+[sāle, -, sāle//] +āyor sāle śīl ränkāñi ‘a gift [is] grounds for moral behavior and ränkāñi’ (23a5), /// [mā a]lyek cmelne sāle priyeṃ ‘they do not bear the basis [?] for another birth’ (24a4), /// śattālyantyas [lege: śattālyeṃts?] sāle wa[sa] /// ‘he gave ground to the seeds [?]’ (475a3), sālesa kewiye wentsa pepakṣu kuñcītäṣṣe ṣalype udāvarttäntse gurmantse sāṃtke ‘sesame oil [is to be] cooked with cow dung on the ground; [it is] a medicine for swelling [caused by?] a disease of the bowel’ (497b3/4). +∎From PIE *sōlo-, exactly matched by Lithuanian súolas ‘bench, chair’ or Latvian suôls ‘bench’ (VW, 1965b:504, 1976:417) and more distantly equated with Albanian gjolë ‘clearing/pasture where salt is strewn for domestic animals’ (PIE *sēleh_a), if the latter is not a derivative of *sal- ‘salt.’ Cf. P:898-9 with other, more dubious connections. +

+ + +
+

+sänkīñ* +(n.pl.) +‘± (facial) wrinkles’ (?), ‘pockmarks’ (?)
+[//-, sänkīṃts, sänkīṃ] +ṣalype lip[ā]ts[i sä]nkīṃts sāṃtke (497b8), sänkī[ts sāṃtk]e ‘[it is] the remedy for s.’ (497b9), särwāna sonopälle ... pikṣanma sänkiṃ yoraiṃ po nakṣäṃ ‘the face is to be anointed ... it destroys all spots [?], wrinkles [?], pimples [?]’ (W-40b3). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+sätk- +(vi./vt.) +‘spread (out) [intr./tr.]’
+G Ps. III /sätke-/ [MP -, -, sätkentär//MPPart. sätkemane]; Pt. 1a /sätkā-/ [//-, -, sätkāre] ///; PP /sätko-/; +
+K Pt. IIIb /sätk(ä)s-/ [sätkasamai, -, -//] +auloñ cpī sätkentär-ne lyitkwänmā srukemāne (139a3); /// aur[ts]esa sätkāre ‘they spread out widely’ (37b8); [t]aisa ñiś yāmorṣṣe śerkne ñäkcīyana śāmñana rūpanma sätkasamai ‘thus did I spread the divine and human forms in the snare of the deed’ (154b5). + -- sätkālñe only in the derived adjective +
+sätkālñetstse*: (531a4); +
+sätkor* ‘spread’ (n.): toṃ kleśanmats sätkorsa ‘by the spread of kleśas’ (228b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Possibly from PIE *sut-sḱe/o-, derived from *seut- ‘be strongly moved’ [: Lithuanian siaûsti (siaučiù) ‘rage; separate (grain from chaff); spread (of diseases),’ Proto-Germanic *seuþ- ‘boil’ (cf. English seethe), more distantly, Lithuanian saũbti ‘rave, rage,’ Avestan hāvayeiti ‘stews’ (P:914-5)]. Also possible, though semantically a bit more distant perhaps, is Hilmarsson's suggestion (1991:129) of a putative PIE *swid-sḱe/o- and a relationship with Lithuanian svíesti ‘to throw,’ sváidyti ‘to throw around,’ Latvian sviêst ‘to throw,’ presupposing a PIE *sweid-. Otherwise VW (*suktk- [423-4]) and Pedersen (*sh₁-Tk- with the reduced grade of *seh₁- ‘spread’ [1941:237]). The latter is semantically plausible and phonologically possible, but whence the -T- extension? +

+ + +
+

+sänmetstse* +(adj.) +‘being in a trance, trancelike’
+[f: sänmetsa, -, -//] +enenkaś paspārtau cwi maim palskw attsaik [] sänmetsa ṣ cwi k[ek]ts[eñe] ‘within his whole thought and feeling [were] turned around; his body [was] in a trance’ (41a2). +∎From (unattested) sanme* ‘trance’ with regular metathesis from PTch *sämne < PIE *supno- ‘sleep’ [: Greek húpnos, OCS sъnъ, Albanian gjumë, all from *supno-; see also ṣpane (P:1048-49; MA:527] (K. T. Schmidt, 1980:409; Normier, 1980:262). (Otherwise VW (422)--from PIE *seng^wh-). Though the etymology seems certain, the difference in treatment of the original PIE cluster *-pn- in *supno- (> *sanme, cf. yenme ‘gate’ or present-stem yänmäsk- from yäp-) and *swepno- (> ṣpane ‘sleep’) is not clear. +See also ṣpane. +

+ + +
+

+särk- +See sränk-. +

+ + +
+

+särp- +(vi.) +‘beat [of a heart]’
+Pt. III /särp-/ [//-, -, sarpär] +aräñci sarpär ‘the hearts beat’ (119a4). +∎From PIE *sreb^h- ‘sip, slurp’ [: Armenian arbi ‘I drank,’ Greek rophéō ‘I gulp down,’ Latin sorbeō ‘id.,’ Lithuanian srebiù ‘id.,’ surbiù ‘suck, sip,’ Slovenian srẹ́bati ‘id.,’ Albanian gjerp ‘sip,’ Hittite s(a)rap- ‘gulp,’ etc. (P:1001; MA:175)] (VW:422). Unlike VW, however, who takes the meaning to have originally been *‘suck’ and the extension to the beating of the heart made on the basis of the heart's being a pump (which would seem to presuppose a very sophisticated understanding of circulation), I assume we have *‘slurp’ > ‘beat [of the heart]’ on the basis of the sound involved (similarly English beat). +

+ + +
+

+särwāna +(n.[pl.tant.]) +‘face’
+[//särwāna, -, särwāna] +/// [spä]rkoṣ ere ce kaklaiksauwa särwanā /// ‘color gone and the face withered’ (405b3), lantsoy särwāna ‘the queen's face’ (514b8), särwāna sonopälle meñämpa eneśle särwāna mäskentär-ne ‘[one is to] anoint the face; his face becomes like the moon’ (W-40b2). + -- särwānaṣṣe ‘prtng to the face’: [särwan]āṣṣe tañ pällentaṣṣe meñe ‘the full moon of thy face’ (71a5), särwānaṣṣe maṇḍālne poyśintse ‘in the maṇḍala [= orb, circle] of the Buddha's face’ (H-149-ADD.4a4 [Thomas, 1965:196]); +
+särwāna-laiko ‘face-wash’: särwāna-laiko aṣiye malkwersa ‘a face-wash with goat's milk’ (W-10b1); +
+särwāna-ṣawo ‘face-wash’: (W-13a6). +∎A neuter plural, (as if) perhaps from PIE *stru(h_x)o-neh_a from *streu- ‘spread, build up’ [: Latin struō ‘I build, construct, arrange,’ struēs ‘pile, heap,’ Gothic straujan ‘strew,’ Old English strēowian (> Modern English strew), etc. (P:1030-1031)]. The semantic development parallels that seen in Latin faciēs from facere (cf. VW:423, who starts from *struh_xeh_a-neh_a). Hilmarsson (1989c), in a variation on this etymology, proposes to start from *str(e)uh_xd-mṇ, or rather from the plural *str(e)uh_xd-mneh_a where the *-m- disappears in the *-Cmn- cluster by a rule of PIE date and then the *-d- disappears regularly before a resonant regularly in the history of Tocharian. Better perhaps would be *str(e)ueh_a-smn-eh_a since *-s- also would appear to have disappeared regularly before a resonant in Tocharian (cf. stām). (Not with K. T. Schmidt [1980:409] the equivalent of Sanskrit sṛkvaṇī (dual) ‘corners of the mouth’ since the loss of *-k- in Tocharian would be inexplicable.) Emmerick (1990) discusses a possible parallel semantic development in Khotanese śśāman- ‘mouth, face’ from PIE *ḱweh_a- ‘swell.’ +See särwece*. +

+ + +
+

+särwece* +(n.) +‘form of existence’
+[särwece (K-T) ~ särweśce (K-T)//-, -, särwecäṃ] +po śutkām särwecän ‘we filled out all forms of existence’ (45a6), kutänkmane särwecaṃ ṣäñ yāmorsa cmelane ‘filling out the forms of existence by one's own deed in [one's] births’ (229a2/3). +∎(As if) from PIE *stru(h_x)o- + -Ten- and thus similar in form and meaning to särwāna, q.v. (VW:423). See preceding entry. +

+ + +
+

+säl-¹ +(vi.) +‘arise, fly’
+Ps. II /*ṣäl^'ä/_e-/ (see discussion); Ko. V /*sālā- ~ *sälā-/ (see discussion); Pt. Ib /sālā-/; PP /sāsālā-/ +///s^. araṃśne salāte-ne [] k_ucatākmeṃ ṣañ [ñ]em ṣallāte ‘[grief(?)] arose in her heart; from the balcony she hurled herself’ (109b2); ... läkleṣṣe sasālau ñi arañcne ‘... having arisen in my painful heart’ (H-ADD-149.83a2 [Hilmarsson, 1990:93]). +‣This paradigm is matched in TchA by an athematic present (i.e. third person plural sliñc and present participle sälmāṃ). The deverbal TchB adjective ṣlyamo ‘flying,’ q.v., strongly suggests that the present stem in that language was thematic, either *ṣäly- or *säly- (since the initial ṣ- of ṣlyamo could be the result of assimilation to the -ly- rather than original). In both languages the subjunctive must have been an ablauting one of Class V: sālā- ~ sälā- in TchB, salā- ~ sälā in TchA. TchB preserves the weak-grade of this subjunctive in the derived verbal adjective salamo (/sälāmo/) ‘flying,’ q.v., while TchA preserves the strong-grade in its derived verbal adjective salat (/salāt/) ‘id.’ (summarizing Hilmarsson, 1990:102). The presence in TchB of a thematic (Class II) present beside an ablauting Class V subjunctive is rare but attested (cf. kälts- and tresk-). +∎See s.v. säl-³. +See also salamo. +

+ + +
+

+säl-² +(vt.) +‘throw, throw off, throw down; humble; lay to rest [of the dead]’
+Ps. X (?) /*sälläsk^'ä/_e-/ (see discussion); Ko. II /ṣäll^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. ṣällatsi]; Pt. II /ṣāl(l)ā-/ [-, ṣalāsta, ṣālla//-, -, ṣal(l)āre; MP -, ṣalātai, ṣallāte]; PP /sāsāllā-/; PP /sesälyu-/ +/// [pātär-mā]tarṣṣe śraddhatāk ṣällatsi ‘to throw off the religious cloak [?] of the father and mother’ (412b2 [Hilmarsson, 1990:99]); Dipankarsa ṣuk uppālnta ṣalāsta ‘thou didst throw seven lotuses over D.’ (Qumtura 34-g6 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]), allek no ksa arhānte ṣāll=āntseṣṣe [perpette] ‘but a certain other arhat threw off the burden of the skandhas’ (4a7 [Hilmarsson, 1990:99]), retke ṣālla kausalṣets ‘he threw down the army of K.’ (21a7), ///s ̇ araṃśne salāte-ne [] k_ucatākmeṃ ṣañ [ñ]em ṣallāte ‘[grief(?)] arose in her heart; from the balcony she threw herself’ (109b2), ///ṣlemeṃ ṣañ āñm ṣalātai keścyeṃts śwāts[i] ‘thou didst hurl thyself from the mountain to feed the hungry’ (239a3), tā_u erkenmasa ṣalāre ‘they laid her to rest in the cemetary’ (560a2/3), pelene ṣalāre-ne ‘they threw him into prison’ (H-149.40a5 [Thomas, 1979:12]), yaltse tināränta ytārine ṣallāre ‘they threw 1,000 denarii on the road’ (H-149-add.12a5 [Thomas, 1954:757]); sasāllaṣ palsko[sa snai] wyakṣep päklyauṣ ‘listen with a humbled spirit and without distraction’ (77a4/5); [se]salyu lyakeṃ yops=āttsāna waś/// [lege: warśaiṃne] ‘having thrown down the fences/gates (?), he entered the thick brush’ (338a1). +‣This verb and ³säl- below are distinguished from ¹säl- semantically. The latter has clearly ‘upward’ connotations (‘fly, arise’) while ²säl- and ³säl- are ‘downward’ in orientation. They describe the fate of an object in air when gravity has taken over. It should be noted that ²säl- and ³säl- are largely, perhaps entirely, synonymous. +
+This paradigm has a number of special features that need some explanation. The subjunctive (represented by the infinitive ṣällatsi) is descriptively a Class II (thematic) subjunctive because of its initial palatalization, though its lack of root final palatalization is unexpected. If it were from *s(e)lye- (à la Hilmarsson, 1990) we would expect *ṣlyītsi, just as in kälpītsi ‘to steal’ (< *ḱlepye-) or, more particularly aklyītsi ‘to learn’ (< *ā-kḷh₁ye-). One should note, in any case, that the double -l- precludes the identification of this stem with that underlying the deverbal adjective *ṣlyamo ‘flying’ which, moreover, would be extremely dubious on semantic grounds. The combination of initial palatalization plus root final -ll- has the look of an old thematic subjunctive (*ṣäly-) where -n- (*-lyn- > *-ln- > -ll-) has been extended from the present. It is as if we have an infinitive *śänmatsi ‘to come’ (rather than the attested śamtsi) on the basis of the usual subjunctive stem śänm- (cf. śanmäṃ ‘he will come’) where the -n- has been imported from the present känmäsk-. This explanation would strongly suggest that the present for ²säl- was *sälläsk- (< *sälnäsk- < *sḷnusḱe/o-). The -ll- proper to the present is also to be found extended to the preterite and preterite participle. +
+I put in this paradigm also the preterite participle sāsāllā- since doing so allows us to group together in one paradigm all those forms with -ll-. It would, with its lack of palatalization, have the same relationship to the palatalized preterite ṣāllā- as kālākā- ‘followed’ does to śalāka. This placement seems likely on semantic grounds as well. Though usually translated as ‘aroused’ in this context (so Hilmarsson, 1990:91, with previous literature), an injunction to listen to a religious text with a ‘broken and contrite’ spirit seems as likely, if not more so, than with one that is ‘flying’ or ‘aroused.’ In any case, it is matched in TchA by [sā]sluṃt in an almost identical context which, if properly restored, would be the exact morphological match of the TchB participle. +
+The second preterite participle sesälyu- bears the same relationship to its preterite as pepalywu- (in the abstract pepalyworsa) does to plyāwa ‘bewailed’ or the once attested lelku- (in the abstract lelkormeṃ, beside the usual lyeläku-) beside lyāka ‘saw.’ If these participles are correctly translated in their single attestations, they may have been semantically specialized. +∎See s.v. säl-³. +

+ + +
+

+säl-³ +(vt.) +‘throw off, throw down; let fall, drop; lay to rest [of the dead]’
+Ps. IXb /ṣäläsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. ṣaläṣṣeñca; MPPart. ṣaläskemane; Ger. ṣaläṣälle]; Ko. IXb [= Ps.] [Inf. ṣaläs(t)si]; PP /ṣeṣälo-/: (see abstract) +///lye ce palsko ṣaläṣṣeñcai nraiṣṣeṃ kāru/// (H-149.ADD.64a3 [Thomas, 1967:108]); mäkte tärrek eṅwe yesti nāskoy enersänk ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘as a blind man might eat/gnaw [his] food and inadvertantly [?] letting it fall into the heart, it would burn up’ (154b3), erkenmasa en[te yaka] srukoṣäṃ ṣaläskemane ṣekaṃñe tākaṃ ‘when, moreover, laying to rest the dead in great cemeteries’ (559a1/2); etve [lege: entwe] soye tsikale känte-okt näsait yamaṣäle taka pwarne [ṣa]läṣäle ‘then a doll [is] to be made; one hundred eight [times] the spell [is] to be cast; then in the fire [it is] to be thrown’ (M-2a6); piṃś-atseṣṣe perpette täne yatäṃ ṣaläsi ‘he can throw off the burden of the five skandhas’ (554b1). +‣This paradigm may be matched in TchA by the Class VIII causative /sälä-s-/ attested once at A-60b2: tsara näm ak nu släsmāṃ lo araträṃ, whose meaning is unfortunately obscure. + -- ṣeṣlor*: warne pyāpyai ṣeṣlorsa ‘by throwing a flower into the water’ (H-149-add. 63/59a2 [Hilmarsson, 1990:98]). +∎TchA säl- and B säl- reflect PTch *säl- from PIE *sel- ‘± move quickly’ [: Sanskrit ucchalati ‘hurries forward,’ Greek hállomai (< *sḷye/o-) ‘leap, jump,’ iállō (< *sisḷye/o- where the yodh-present is analogical to the unreduplicated present) ‘let fly, send forth, put forth,’ Latin saliō ‘spring, jump,’ (intensive) saltō ‘id.,’ Sanskrit (middle) sisrate ‘rushes off, speeds; stretches (out),’ (active) sisarti ‘makes run, stretches (tr.)’ (P:899, Hilmarsson, 1990:106-7, MA:285)] (VW, 1941:111, 1976:420-421). Judging by this evidence there were two present formations to this verb root in PIE, a ye/o-present with the semantically specialized meaning ‘spring, jump’ and an athematic reduplicated present with the less specialized meaning. The TchA athematic present of ¹säl- may be the exact equivalent of the Sanskrit reduplicated athematic present with regular loss of reduplication (cf. A tā- ‘place, put’ beside B tättā- [< *d^hid^hh₁-) or A yā- ‘travel’ beside B iyā- [< *yiyeh_a-]). TchA differs from Sanskrit in that the active is intransitive rather than transitive. The TchB present, if *ṣäl^'ä/_e-, would be the exact equivalent of the Indic *salati seen in ucchalati. However, it is likely that the Tocharian and Indic presents are independent formations. If the TchB present is säl^'ä/_e-, it is likely that it was a fairly mechanical thematicization of the present still found in TchA. The *ṣäl^'ä/_e- that underlies the attested subjunctive of ²säl- may well be old and may well be identical with the aforementioned present of ¹säl-. The rest of the paradigm of ²säl- (see above) is analogical and must have been created as a way of differentiating ¹säl- ‘fly’ from ²säl- ‘throw (down).’ The paradigm of ³säl-, a regular "causative" formation, is presumably later and a regularization of sorts of the paradigm of ²säl-. Nowhere is there any need to see a Tocharian descendant of a PIE *sḷye/o- as Hilmarsson (1990) does which, as already pointed out, would appear to have been semantically specialized already in PIE in such a way as to exclude it as the ancestor of either of the two Tocharian meanings. +See also salamo and ṣlyamo. +

+ + +
+

+sälk- +(vt.) +‘pull/draw (out/away), tear (out) [normally toward the agent]; [metaphorically] produce’
+Ps. VII /slänk-/ [MP -, -, slanktär//; Ger. slankälle]; Ko. V /sālkā- ~ sälkā-/ [-, -, sālkaṃ//; MP salkamar, -, -//; AOpt.-, -, salkoy//; MPOpt. -, -, sälkoytär//; Inf. salkatsi]; Pt. Ia /sälkā-/ [MP sälkāmai, sälkātai, sälkāte//-, -, sälkānte]; PP /sälko-/ +k[ar]ts[a rano] kektse[ñe] ramer slanktär ṣañäññe ‘a good body soon shows its [true] being’ (5b2/3); śätkaroṃ päst slankällona ‘the leeches [are to] be pulled out’ (W-42a4); [ṣeme] ṣarsa ceṃ pre[re] //// [sä]lkoy-ne ‘with one hand he might pull out his arrow’ (154b1), lyammeṃ santsārṣṣe ñiś ci salkamar ‘I will pull thee out of the saṃsāra-sea’ (296b4/5), kaccap su no tälaṣṣi aśco rämoytär [r]mer ka cpi aśce lyautaiyne tā_u sälkoytär (407b1/2), Suśākh khadiräṣṣe ṣat twerene tsapanale ... [kwri no ṣat] sālkaṃ mokṣä ‘in Suśākh an acacia sliver is to be mashed into the door ... if, however, he pulls it out, [there is] deliverance’ (M-2a2); tarya orotstsana pratiharinta sälkāte-meś ‘he produced for them the three great wonders’ (108b3/4), sanu maskākamñemeṃ [lege: maskw orkamñemeṃ] tal[ā]nt śaiyṣe sälkatai ‘out of danger, difficulty, and darkness thou hast pulled the suffering world’ (247b2), ysaly ersate ciṣy araś ñi sälkāte ‘he has evoked strife and ripped out my heart [that belongs] to thee’ (496a5/6), pūñäktentse weweñoṣäṃ sutarmameṃ sälkāmai ‘I have drawn [this] from the sutras spoken by the Buddha’ (K-8a2); [witsakaṃtso yokaintse ompo]stäṃ wṣīlñentasa mā sälkoṣäṃts ‘[if] the root of thirst with its consequences is not pulled out’ (11a7), witsakai sälkormeṃ = BHS mūlam uddhṛtya (PK-NS-107a5 [Thomas, 1976b:106]). +∎From PIE *selk- ‘pull, draw’ [: Greek hélkō ‘pull, draw,’ Albanian helq ‘id.’ (< *solke-ye/o-), Latin sulcus ‘furrow,’ sulcāre ‘to plow,’ Old English sulh ‘furrow; plow’ (P:901; MA:471)] (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:178, VW, 1941:111, 1976:421). The n-infix present is likely to be a Tocharian innovation. +

+ + +
+

+sältaññe +(adj.?) +‘?’
+[wä]tkaltsa sältaññe ramt /// (587c1). +

+ + +
+

+sälp- +(vi.) +‘be set alight, blaze up; burn’
+Ps/Ko. I /sälp-/ [-, -, salpäṃ//-, -, salpeṃ; Impf. -, -, salpi//Inf. sälpatsi; MPPart. sälpamane]; Pt. Ia /sälpā-/ [-, -, salpa//]; PP /sälpo-/ +[yśelmeṣṣe] pūwar salpäṃ palskone pälketär-ne po kektseñe antāpce ramt ‘the fire of lust blazes in [my] mind; the whole body burns like a firebrand’ (8a5), ek /// salpäṃ rup [salpäṃ] palsko salpäṃ ekaṣṣe ‘the eye [of the monk] is set ablaze, the form is set ablaze, the knowledge of the eye is set ablaze’ [= Pali āditta-] (108b10), pūwar tr[e]m[eṃ]ṣṣe sälpī-n=enenmeṃ ‘the fire anger blazed up inside [him]’ (350a2), salpeṃ piś cmela añityātṣe puwarsa ‘the five births burn in the fire of impermanence’ (G-Su-1a); sälpowsai = BHS ādīpta- (251a5). + -- sälpalle* ‘fever’: sannipātikäṣṣepi sälpallentse sāṃtke ‘[it is] the remedy for a complicated [by a derangement of the three humors] fever’ (497a8). +∎AB sälp- reflect PTch *sälp- from PIE *swelp-, an extension of the widely attested *swel- ‘burn, smoulder’ (P:1045; MA:88). The extension is otherwise attested only in Germanic (e.g. Gothic) swibls and Latin sulphur, from PIE *swelplo- (P:1046). This etymology is VW's (1968b:100) and is much to be preferred to his later one (1976:421) in which he connects this word with ṣalype ‘fat, oil.’ +See also sälpamo and salpi and, more distantly, sleme. +

+ + +
+

+sälpamo +(adj.) +‘blazing, glowing’
+[m: sälpamo, -, //] [f: -, -, sälpamñai// sälpamñana, -, -] +ṣale säl[pa]mo [kälyi]tär-ne kektsentsa ‘a blazing mountain was found on his body’ (22b5), /// [sä]lpamñana tu-yäknesa wī koynuwa kakāyauṣai ‘he [scil. the monster] had opened in this way the two blazing mouths’ (576b3). +∎An adjectival derivative of sälp-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+sälyiye +(nf.) +‘line, streak; border; rule’
+[säly(i)ye, -, salyai//-, -, sälyaiṃ] +śakātaṣṣa sā_u sälyye mkte [sic] [wa]rne nakṣtär ṣe prentse ‘as a the mark [made by] a stick in the water disappears in an instant’ [sälyye = BHS rājī-] (3b6/7), [A]raṇemiṃ lānte ypoyṃtse salyai lyutstsante ‘they drove king A. out of the border of the country’ (86a5), śaul r=anaiśai paṣṣatai śiläna [lege: śiläṣṣana] sälyai[no] ‘[as thy] life, thou hast guarded the right line of moral behavior carefully’ (241a6), salyaisa rano nirot nervāṇäṣṣai rīntse kameṃ ‘likewise by the [right] rule they came to the city of cessation and nirvana’ (PK- AS-16.3a1 [Pinault, 1989:156]), ot toy Mahāsaṃmateṃ lāṃtstsa säly[aiṃ] pākri takāre ‘then the rules were published by king M.’ (PK-AS-16.3b2.3 [ibid.:157]). +∎TchA slyi and B sälyiye reflect PTch *s(ä)lyiye, which in turn may be (as if) from PIE *s(h_a)l(e)ih₁en- and related to Latin linere ‘smear’ and Greek (Hesychian) alínein ‘id.’ The semantic development would be *‘smear’ (noun) > ‘streak, line’ (VW:431). +

+ + +
+

+säsuwa +See s.v. soy. +

+ + +
+

+säsuwerśke +(n.) +‘little boy’ [dim. of soy]
+[säsuwerśke, -, säsuwerśke//] +/// [tsu]kseṃ s_äsūwerśke wī pikla ñiś no tsaukwa cī /// ‘they give the little boy to drink; however, I suckled thee for two years’ (415a3), pātärś ram no s_äsuwer-śke cau lakle po träñcā-neś ‘as a little boy to [his] father, he bewailed all [his] suffering’ (unpub. Berlin fragm. [Thomas, 1968b:212]). +∎A diminutive based on säsuwa, the plural of soy ‘son,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+säsūwerṣṣe * +(adj.) +‘pertaining to a son’
+[m: -, -, säsuwerṣṣe//] +k_use wat śāwṣante [lege: śāwṣate] säswerṣṣ=ākālksa ‘whoever lived by the desire for a son’ (46b7), [pātär-mātär-s_äsū]werṣṣe lareṣṣana ñemna ceṃts po kärstāwa | larauwñesa s_äsūwerṣṣe arañcänne caukante-ñ ṣañ śaul ram no (266a3/b1). +∎Based on säsuwa, the plural of soy ‘son,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+säsuśkañ +(n.pl.) +‘dear sons’
+[//säsuśkañ, -, säsuśkaṃ (voc. säsuśkañ)] +s_äsuśkañ [s]rukāre //// mätstsorsa ‘[my] dear sons died ... of hunger’ (35b1), [ṣamā]ni śakkeññi skwaśaṃ [lege: s_äswaśkaṃ] = BHS śramaṇāḥ śākyaputrīyāḥ (363b5). +∎Term of endearment based on säsuwa, the plural of soy ‘son,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+si- +(vi./vt.) +‘drain’
+G PP /siyo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /ṣiyäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. ṣis(t)si] +siyausai ‘having drained’ (324b1); yetse tsaṅtsi kektseñmeṃ ysāra ṣissi mrestīwe mā k_ulā-c warkṣäl ‘to flay [thy] skin, to drain the blood and marrow from [thy] body [but] thy energy didn't flag’ (S-8a3+104a1). +∎AB si- is from PIE *sei- ‘drip, run, moisten’ (P:889, only with nominal derivatives in -l- and -m-, e.g. Old English sioloþ ‘sea,’ Lithuanian séilė ‘spittle, drivel,’ OHG seim ‘strained honey,’ Old Norse simi [m.] ‘sea’). For the meaning and etymology, see Adams, 1982. +See also perhaps ṣiye. +

+ + +
+

+siṃhe +(n.) +‘lion’
+[siṃhe, -, siṃhe//] +(359b5, 511b2). +∎From BHS siṃha-. Cf. the native ṣecake. +

+ + +
+

+siṃhāsaṃ* +(n.) +‘throne’
+[-, -, siṃhāsaṃ//] +(514b6). +∎From BHS siṃhāsana- ‘lion's seat, throne.’ +

+ + +
+

+siṃhaḍadvīpäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: -, -, siṃhaḍadvīpäṣṣeṃ //siṃhaḍadvīpäṣṣi, -, -] +/// [ñäkci]yai klautsaisa siṃhaḍadvipä/// (391b3), ātsana siṃhaḍad[v]ī/// (392b3), siṃharadvipṣy [sic] onolmi (519a3). +

+ + +
+

+sik- +(vi.) +‘set foot’
+Ps. VI /siknā-/ [-, -, siknaṃ//]; Ko. V /saikā- ~ sikā-*/ [-, -, saikaṃ//] +mäkte kautsy akemane wnolme [tne] kos saikaṃ ṣikont=e[r]k[e]nmaś ‘as a being heading to die, as many steps as he takes to the cemetery’ (3b5/6). +∎From PIE *seik- [: Greek hīkō (Doric heíkō), ikánō/ iknéomai ‘come; reach, attain’ (the latter two from < *ikánw-e/o- and *ikné(w)-e/o- respec-tively), Lithuanian síekti ‘stretch out the hand,’ seikiù (seikėti) ‘measure capacity,’ Old Norse sār ‘large pail,’ Old English sā ‘pail, bucket’ (< Proto-Germanic *saiha-) (P:893; MA:187)] (VW, 1941:109, 1976:427). With the obsolescence of *new-presents in Tocharian it was transferred to the neh_a-class. +See also ṣiko and possibly aṣkār. +

+ + +
+

+siñcai +(adj.) +‘?’
+tumeṃ Durmukhe brāhmaṇe Uttareṃ śamaśkeṃ kärwāṣṣai witsakaisa räskare tsopaṃ-ne siñcai ṣorpor ite /// ‘then the brahman D. poked the boy U. roughly with a reed-root, the full siñcai ṣorpor ...’ (88a1). +

+ + +
+

+siddhāṃ* +(n.) +‘XXX’
+[-, -, siddhāṃ//] +bauddheṃ siddhānmpa śka kantanoy[t]ä[r] (429a3). +

+ + +
+

+Siddhārthe +(n.) +‘Siddhārtha’ (PN of a king)
+[Siddhārthe, -, -//] +(228a2). +

+ + +
+

+Sidhasaṃgha +(n.) +‘Sidhasaṃgha’ (PN on graffito)
+[Sidhasaṃgha, -, -//] +(G-Su20 [entire inscription]). +

+ + +
+

+si-n- +(vi./vt.) +‘be depressed, despair [intr.], depress [tr.]’
+G Ps/Ko. Xa /sinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, sinastar, -//]; Pt. IIIa /sins-/ [MP -, -, sīntsate//]; PP /sesino-/; +
+K Ps. Xb /sinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, sīnäṣṣäṃ//] +śaiṣṣentse kärtseṣc [sic] mā pälsko nta sīntsate-c ‘for the health of the world thy spirit has never despaired’ (224a1); ṣlyaṣṣi snai rūki sprāne sesīnauṣ [sic] lalaṃṣkene aurtsi pauke [sic] ‘firm [but] without leanness [are his] flanks, drooping [?], tender and broad are [his] arms’ (74a5), saṃsāräṣṣe kärkkālle[n]e sesīnoṣäṃ ‘pushed down in the saṃsāra-swamp’ (408a7); te-maṃt mā ṣañ añmä kauc peññaträ mā alyenkäṃ sīnäṣṣäṃ ‘thus he does not stretch himself tall [= puff himself up] nor does he oppress others’ (558b3/4). + -- silñe ‘depression, despondency’: cets ce_u silñe pälskontse lakle ṣpä wīkässi ‘[in order] to drive away this their depression of the spirit and pain’ (30a2), silyñe yänmāṣṣäṃ ‘he experiences despondency’ (A-3a5) +∎AB si-n- reflect PTch *si-n- from PIE *sh₂i-n(e)u- (the original present, relegated in Tocharian to the subjunctive) and *sh₂i-nu-sḱe/o- (an old iterative-intensive present) [: Sanskrit sinoti/syati ‘binds’ (aorist sāt)] (Hollifield, 1978). The semantic development would be *‘bind’ > *‘tie up/down’ (as in English) > ‘afflict, depress’ (Adams, 1979). Perhaps related also is Latin sinere ‘put, place’ (VW:426-427). There is no reason to suppose any connection with the PIE verb ‘satisfy’ (so Pedersen, 1941:264, Winter, 1962b:32). +See also soy-. +

+ + +
+

+sintāp +(n.) +‘rock-salt’ (a medical ingredient)
+[sintāp, -, -//] +toyä saṃtkenta raswäṣlona śār sintāp salyiye yamṣlya (Y-1b4). + -- sintapätstse ‘having rock-salt’: ṣalype sintapätse (499b5). +∎From BHS saindhava- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+sim* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘boundary, limit’
+[-, -, sim//] +enenka simne wat tākaṃ ‘or if it is inside the boundary’ (318a5), cmelṣe sim ‘the limit of birth’ (327b3), [sa]nkameṃ śtvārka-yṣiṣṣe plāki yaskaskemar parna simtsa yatsi ‘from the community I ask agreement/ permission to go beyond the boundary forty nights’ (H-149-ADD.19b5 [Thomas, 1954:737]). +∎From BHS sīmā-. +

+ + +
+

+simākurrinkāte* +(n.) +‘?’
+[-, simākurrinkāteṃtse, -//] +///reme sūjate simā[kurrinkāteṃtse] (485a3). +

+ + +
+

+sivenäṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘pertaining to the perineal raphé’
+[m: -, -, sivenaṣṣe//] +toy vicanmasa sivenäṣe pile näsai[t yamaṣäle] ‘these spells for the raphé wound, the incantation [is to] be made’ (504a4). +∎An adjective formed to *siveṃ from BHS sīvana-. +

+ + +
+

+su +(demonstrative/pronoun) +‘the; he/she/it’ [the usual anaphoric pronoun of TchB]
+[m: su, cwi, ce_u ~ cau//cey ~ cai, ceṃts, ceṃ] [f: sā_u, -, tā_u//toṃ -, toṃ] [nt: tu, tuntse, tu//] +∎From PIE *so + the particle *u. The resultant *sou was unstressed (cf. unstressed Greek ho) and thus became PTch *säu regularly (cf. Adams, 1988c:17). Likewise sā_u and tu are from *seh_a + *u and *tod + *u respectively. The development of the neuter pronoun shows that the loss of word final obstruents must have been sufficiently early that the resultant final vowel acted like an original final vowel. +See Further, see s.v. se. +

+ + +
+

+su- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘[the rain(s)] rain(s)’ (subject always ‘rain,’ either singular or plural), K ‘rain (rain)’ (subject an agent, object always ‘rain’ or a metaphorical extension of ‘rain’)
+G Ps. V /s(u)wā-/ [-, -, sūwaṃ//-, -, sūwaṃ; Impf. -, -, suwoy//; MPPart. swāmane]; Ko. V /swāsā-/ [-, -, swāsaṃ//]; Pt. Ib /swāsā-/ [-, -, swāsa//]; +
+K Ps/Ko. XIb /swāsäsk^'ä/_e-/ [swāsäskau, -, -//; Opt. //-, -, swāṣyeṃ; Inf. swāsäs(t)si; APart. swāsäṣṣeñca]; Pt. IV /swāsäṣṣā-/ [swā(sä)sṣawa. swāsäṣṣasta, swā(sä)sṣa//] +cwīññe se śāp ste k_ucesa ṣp swesi mā sūwaṃ (350b4), swese suwoy ‘the rain rained’ (375b3), /// sawoṃ [sic] tärkär ra praściye (388b4); swāsaṃ ṣimtsa ce_u ‘it rains on the roof’ (A-2a6); [wsāre nek]cy[e]ne cwi miye paṣkārro po swāsa cew ostne tarya lykwarwa no kästwer swoyen ompṣek akappinta ‘they gave him in the evening miye and paṣkārro; everything rained in the house; three more times it rained "for ever" impurities’ (42b7); /// [swā]säskau keṃtsa tsainwāṣṣai lāñsa ‘I rain over the earth with a flood of weapons’ (93b4), mantanta ksa ṣp nāge campi pältak swese swāsästsi ‘and never could any nāga rain [even] a drop of rain’ (350a3), rekaunaṣṣeṃ śirenäṃ kr_ui ra yepeṃ swāṣyeñ tsa ainaki (S-5b1+313b2); /// warpalyñeṣṣai praściye swāsäṣṣawa ‘I rained a storm of enjoyment’ (154b6), āyorntaṣṣe swese kentsa swāsäṣṣasta ‘thou didst rain a rain of gifts over the earth’ (AMB-b5). + -- swāsalle* ‘raining’: /// ma yente yalye ikene ma swāsallye ikene ‘[there is] no wind going in the place, [there is] no raining in the place’ (H-149.37a1 [Thomas, 1967:23]). +∎AB su-/swāsā- reflect PTch *su-/swāsā- from PIE *seuh₃- [: Greek húei ‘it rains’ (< *suh₃-e/o-), húō ‘I rain’ (< *suh₃-ye/o-), Sanskrit sunoti ‘presses out [of a liquid],’ Hittite sunna- ‘fill’ (< *suh₃-ne/o-), suu- ‘full’ (< *séuh₃u-) (P:912), cf. also Old Prussian soye (~ suge) ‘rain’ (MA:477)] (Meillet, 1912:115, VW:443). Puhvel (1991:303-304) would add Hittite hewa- ‘rain,’ hewaniya- ‘to rain,’ to this etymon on the assumption that what we have reconstructed here as *seuh₃- is actually *s-h₂euh₃- with s-mobile. If so, it might be possible to add Albanian shi ‘rain’ here despite the fact that sh- is not the expected reflex of PIE *s- before a stressed vowel, but rather gj-. Perhaps sh- is the regular outcome of a cluster *sh₂-. The TchA present middle participle sūmāṃ and third person plural present swiñc look like athematic presents to a PIE zero-grade *suh₃-. The TchB present s(u)wā- is either the strong grade of such an present (i.e. PIE *sweh₃-, since the Hittite cognates preclude a PIE *-h₂-) or, perhaps more likely, an extended *suh₃-eh_a-. Other accounts that assume as a PIE starting point *suh₃- for the entire paradigm are K. T. Schmidt (1982:360) and Lindeman (1987:301). The rest of the paradigm is filled out by the originally denominative *swāsā- (early PTch *swesā-) formed in the regular way to swese ‘rain’ (< *suh₃-os-o-). +See also swese, ṣāwo, and more distantly sum-. +

+ + +
+

+suk- +(vi.) +G (Ps. VI) ‘± hand over, deliver’ (?); (Ps. VII) ‘dangle (intr.), hang down; tarry, linger’; K ‘dangle (tr.)’ [ṣukäsk- waiptāyar = ‘vacillate’]
+G Ps. VI /suknā-/ [//-, -, suknaṃ; MPPart. suknāmane]; Ps. (?) VII /sukäññ^ä/_e-/ [MPImpf.//-, -, sukaññiyenträ]; +
+K Ps IXb /ṣukäsk^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, ṣūkäskeṃ] +/// ṣarne enkoṣ tumeṃ cwi pyapyaiṃ suknaṃ uppalä/// ‘having taken [the garlands?] in their hands; then they hand him the lotus flowers’ [or ‘then his lotus-flowers hang down’?] (H-149.44a2 [but Hilmarsson suggests that verso and recto have been misassigned here]); sukaññiyenträ ‘they were suspended’ [or ‘they might be suspended’?] = BHS abhi-pralambeyuḥ (530b2); [ pa]lsk[a]lñenta ce_u [mā] tn[e] ṣūkäskeṃ waiyptāyar [ ] ‘the ideas do not make him vacillate’ [ṣūkäskeṃ = BHS vilambayanti (Thomas, 1983: 214)] (44b3). +‣The form sukaññiyenträ is usually taken as an optative rather than an imperfect (as tentatively here). Though this word glosses a BHS optative, Hilmarsson makes a good case that the TchB here is really an imperfect rather than an optative since the BHS optative could be used as an imperfect and that may well be what the Tocharian glossator is responding to here. +
+Likewise Hilmarsson makes a strong case for viewing the Class VI present and the Class VII present to be, at least in origin, variants of one another, just as we have mäntnā- ~ mäntäññ- (see s.v. mänt-). The meaning usually associated with the Class VI present (given as the first translation above) is reinforced by reference to its equivalent in TchA (i.e. A-77a4: tmäṣ cesäm ānkaräs lāntse suknāmāṃ tränkäṣ cesäs śkaṃānkaräs tñi essi /// ‘thus he he says, delivering the tusks to the queen: these tusks [thou hast ordered me] to give to you’). The semantic shift involved might be something like *‘dangle’ > ‘hand over’ or *‘dangle’ > *‘twist, turn’ > *‘turn over’ > ‘deliver.’ +∎TchA suk- and B suk- reflect PTch *suk-. The closest formal matches are Khotanese hūjs- ‘hold, carry,’ Ossestic xurxä ‘sour milk; whey’ (i.e. milk that has "turned"), Lith sukù ‘turn, twist,’ sukrùs ‘moving, nimble,’ pã-sukos ‘sour milk,’ sunkalai ‘id.,’ Latvian suku ‘slip away from,’ OCS sukati ‘twist,’ Russian skat' ‘twist together’ (< *sъkati) from PIE *seuk- (in PTch *suk- we have a rebuilt zero-grade *säuk- [cf. Adams, 1978]). Cf. Bailey, 1967: 235-236. Semantically the Tocharian words appear more closely related to PIE *swe(n)K- (where *-K- = either *-k- or *-g-) ‘± dangle in the air, swing, bend in the air’ [: Sanskrit svájate ~ svájati ‘embrace,’ pariṣvakta- = Avestan pairišx^vaxta- ‘completely surrounded,’ Old Irish seng ‘slim, slender,’ Middle High German swanc ‘supple, slender, slim,’ Old English swancor ‘supple, slender,’ swincan ‘work, punish oneself’ (< *‘bend [to one's labor]’?), swenċan ‘plague, trouble, torment,’ OHG swenkan ‘swing (tr.), fling (away),’ etc.; OHG swingan ‘swing (intr.), vault, fly,’ Old English swingan ‘strike, whip; vault,’ MHG swengel ‘(bell) clapper, (pump) handle,’ etc.; Old Norse svaga ~ svagra ‘totter, stagger; dangle, swing,’ sveggja ‘turn (a ship), etc.’ (P:1047-48; MA:63)]. Probably *swenK- (*sunK-) is to be taken as a nasalized variant of *s(e)uk-. To be rejected are VW's suggestions (for the Class VII present, pp. 444-445) of a borrowing of B from A suk-, itself from PIE *sek^w- ‘follow,’ or (for the Class VII present, p. 445) a borrowing from (an unattested) A *suk-, itself representing a PIE *seg- * -w-. +

+ + +
+

+sukṣmel +(n.) +‘cardamon’ (a medical ingredient)
+[sukṣmel, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS sūkṣmelā- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+sukhasaumanasyendri* +(n.) +‘indication of fortune and joy’ (?)
+[-, -, sukhasaumanasyendri//] +(171a7). +∎From BHS sukhasaumanasyendri-. +

+ + +
+

+sukhavedanīyasparś +(n.) +‘touch of the consciousness of pleasure’ (?)
+(71a7). +∎If from BHS sukhavedanīya- + sparśa-. +

+ + +
+

+sugandhik* +(n.) +‘olibanum’ (?)
+[-, -, sugandhik//] +[su]gandhik turyai sumāṃntsa wärñai (571b3). +∎From BHS sugandhika-. +

+ + +
+

+sugant* +(n.) +‘Anthropogon schaenantus’ (a medical ingredient)
+[-, -, sugant//] +kuñcitäṣṣe ṣalywe balämpa klyauccasi yamaṣle sugantämp=eṣe päkṣalle ‘with sesame oil and Sida cordofolia an electuary [is] to be made; together with Anthropogon schaenantus [it is] to be cooked’ (Y-2a6). +∎From BHS sugandha- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+Sucaritavārg* +(n.) +‘Sucaritavarga’ (a chapter of the Udānavarga)
+[-, -, Sucaritavārg//] +(S-3a4). +

+ + +
+

+sucīkar* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘needlecase’
+[-, -, sucīkar//] +se ṣamāne ayāṣṣe kemeṣṣe sucīkar yamastär pāyti ‘whatever monk makes a needlecase out of bone or ivory, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b4 [Couvreur, 1954b:49]). +∎From BHS sūcighara-. +

+ + +
+

+Sujāte +(n.) +‘Sujāta’ (PN)
+[Sujāte, -, Sujāte//] +(74b3, 485a3). +

+ + +
+

+Sutate +(n.) +‘Sudatta’ (PN of a monk)
+[Sutate, -, -//] +(463a2). +

+ + +
+

+Sutasome* +(n.) +‘Sutasoma’ (PN)
+[-, Sutasomi, -//] +Sutasomi procer ‘the brother of Sutasoma’ (Lévi, 1913:320). +

+ + +
+

+sutämär +(n.) +‘nectar’
+[sutämär, -, -//] +(W-5a5). +∎From BHS sudhāmṛta- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+sūtär* +(n.) +‘sutra’
+[-, sutarntse, sutär//-, sutarntäṃts, sutar(n)ma ~ sutärnta] +weña pudñäkte māka sutarma ‘the Buddha spoke many sutras’ (33b5), preku se sūtär winai abhidhārm aiykemane tākaṃ ‘I will ask [that] one knows the sutra, vinaya and abhidhārma’ (H-149.X.3a4 [Couvreur, 1954b:48]). + -- sutarṣṣe ‘prtng to a sutra’: (549b3); +
+sūtärnmāṣṣe ‘prtng to sutras’: (134a2). +∎From BHS sūtra-. +

+ + +
+

+sudarśane +(adj.) +‘beautiful’
+[m: sudarśane, -, sudarśaneṃ//] +(76a2, 97b3). +∎From BHS sudarśana-. +

+ + +
+

+Sudarśe* +(n.) +‘Sudarśa’ (PN of a buddha)
+[-, -, Sudarśeṃ//] +(Qumtura 34-g7 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+Sudaṣ- +(PN of a brahman?)
+(364b3). +

+ + +
+

+Sunakṣatre +(n.) +‘Sunakṣatra’ (PN of a king)
+[Sunakṣatre, -, -//] +(H-ADD.149.62 [Couvreur, 1966:165]). +

+ + +
+

+Sunetre +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘Sunetra’ (PN of a king)
+[Sunetre, Sunetri, -//] +(74b3, 77a1, Qumetur 34-g8 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]). +

+ + +
+

+Sundari +(nf.) +‘Sundarī’ (PN of a nun)
+[Sundari, -, -//] +(16b4). +

+ + +
+

+sunniyerkarñaññe +(adj.) +prtng to a kind of oil-bearing plant
+[m: sunniyerkarñaññe, -, -//] +sunniyerkarñaññe kuñcitäṣṣe ṣalype malkwersa ‘sunniyerkarñaññe and sesame oil with milk’ (W-27b2). +

+ + +
+

+Supriye +(n.) +‘Supriya’ (PN of a gandharva or cakravartin)
+[Supriye, -, -//] +(96b3, 355a5). +

+ + +
+

+supratiṣṭhit +(n.) +‘Ficus racemosa Linn.’ [= F. glomerata Roxb.]
+[Supratiṣṭhit, -, -//] +Supraṣṭhit ñem nigrot [ṣai] stanāṃts wlo ‘S. [by] name was a nyaghrodha, a king of trees’ [= BHS supratiṣṭita-] (3a7). +∎From BHS supratiṣṭhita-. +

+ + +
+

+subhādreṃ* +(n.) +a meter of 20 X 22 X 10 X 15 syllables
+[-, -, subhādreṃ//] +(33a2). +‣Compare the TchA meter subhādrenaṃ. +

+ + +
+

+Subhāṣitagaveṣi +(n.[m.sg.].) +‘Subhāṣitagaveṣi’ (PN of a king)
+[Subhāṣitagaveṣi, Subhāṣitagaveṣiñ, Subhāṣitagaveṣiṃ//] +(95a6, 99passim). +

+ + +
+

+sum- +(vt.) +‘drop, trickle’ (?)
+Ps. IX /sumäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger.sumäṣṣalle] +eśane sumäṣṣalle ‘[it is] to be trickled in the eyes’ (W-13a6), /// slankalya satkentampa sumäṣalya ‘it is to be pulled out and together with medicines [it is] to be trickled’ (W042b1). +∎Presumably from PIE *seuh₃- ‘express [a liquid]; rain’ (P:912--see also su-). The Tocharian word represents an otherwise unattested verbal *suh₃-m-; cf. Skt soma- (VW, 1941:114, 1976:446, though differing in details). +See also su-, sumo, possibly smaññe. +

+ + +
+

+Sumāgati +(n.) +‘Sumāgati’ (PN of a woman)
+[Sumāgati, -, -//] +(514a5, 515a4, 515b8). +

+ + +
+

+sumagandh +(n.) +‘red lotus’ [Nymphaea rubra Roxb.]
+[sumagandh, -, -//] +träppāl cautaṃ sumagandhä kurkamäṣṣi pätsāñä ‘triphala, honey, red-lotus and saffron stigmas’ (W-38a5). + -- sumagandhäṣṣe* ‘prtng to red lotus’: kurkamäṣṣi ptsāñä sumagandhäṣṣa tāno ‘saffron stigmas and a red lotus seed’ (W-32a5). +∎From BHS somagandha- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+Sumati +(n.) +‘Sumati’ (PN)
+[Sumati, -, -//] +(365a2, 366a5). +

+ + +
+

+sumarāś +(n.) +‘Centratherum anthelminticum (Willd.) Kuntze’ [aka ‘Vernonia anthelminthica Willd.’] (a medical ingredient)
+[sumarāś, -, -//] +(W-31b4). +∎From BHS somarājī- or somarāṭ- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+sumaswiñi +(?)
+sumaswiñi (489a1). +

+ + +
+

+sumāṃ +(n.) +‘great flowering jasmine’ [Chrysanthemum indicum Linn.]
+[sumāṃ -, sumāṃ//] +sumānämpa taṣalle yaṣi motämpa yokalle ‘[it is] to be set [for the] night with sumanā; [it is] to be drunk with alcohol’ (P- 1b3), sumāṃ spaitu kot ypantse traksiṃ mitäṣṣe warsa ṣpärkaṣṣälle ‘sumanā, and as much pollen, the awns of barley with honey water, [it is] to be dissolved’ (W022b2). + -- sumāṃnṣe* ‘prtng to sumanā’: sumānṣeṃ warkensa māladaṇḍi[ke] kärskemane ... sumāṃnṣeṃ warkensa kärṣalya ‘strewing the māladaṇḍika with sumanā garlands ... [it is] to be strewed with sumanā garlands’ (M-3a4). +∎From BHS sumanā- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+Sumer +(n.) +‘[Mt.] Sumeru’
+[Sumer, Sumeräntse, Sumer//Sumernta, -, -] +pernerñeṣe Sumersa täprauñentats [tä]rne[ne] śmasta ‘thou didst stand at the peak of the heights on glorious Sumeru’ (203a4/5), [samudtärsa] kätkare epe wat no Sumersa tapre tākoy-ñ ‘may it be to me deeper than the ocean or higher than Sumeru’ (268a1). + -- sumerṣṣe* ‘prtng to Mt. Sumeru’: Sumerṣṣana swañcaintsa ramt ‘like Sumeru-rays’ (73a4/5); +
+Sumer-ṣale ‘Mt. Sumeru’: keṃ sā aurtsa ... Smer-ṣle warñai ṣali ‘the wide earth ... the mountains even to Mt. Sumeru’ (45b7), [Sume]r-ṣlentse tsankär ramt ‘like the peak of Mt. Sumeru’ (74b5). +∎From BHS Sumeru-. +

+ + +
+

+Sumaiśe +(n.) +‘Sumaiśa’ (PN)
+[Sumaiśe, -, -//] +(433a6). +

+ + +
+

+sumo +(n.) +‘libation’ (?)
+[sumo, -, sumai(?)//] +sumai [in a list of medical ingredients (Filliozat reads: su[pai])] (W-15a4), Puṣnäkṣātärne päknāträ iñcew ra tsa ekalmi yāmtsi sumo [Filliozat reads: su mo] pwarne hom yamaṣäle ‘in [the constellation] Puṣnakṣātra, if one intends to make anyone whosoever subject, a libation [is to] be sacrificed in the fire’ (M-1b7). +‣The readings here are those of Sieg (1954). +∎The meaning suggested here is based on a presumed etymological connection of sumo and sum-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+suras +(n.) +‘myrrh’ [Vitex negundo Linn.] (a medical ingredient)
+[surasä, -, -//] +(W-15a4, W-41b2). +∎From BHS surasa- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+suraspaträ +(n.) +‘myrrh-leaf’ (a medical ingredient)
+[suraspaträ, -, -//] +(W-23b2). +∎From BHS surasapattra- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+surme* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘cataract [of the eye]’
+[-, -, surme//] +tsätkwaṃtsñeṣṣe surmesa eś lm[au] ‘blinded by the cataract of error’ (207b2), aknā[tsa]ññ[e] surmesa k_use cey tākaṃ laukaññe eś-lämoṣo ‘whoever these will be, blinded for a long time by the cataract of ignorance’ (408b5), viparyāṣṣe sūrmesa ‘by the cataract of error’ (S-6b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. Perhaps (as if) from *suh_xr-mo- [: Old Icelandic súrr ‘sour, sharp,’ saurr (m.) ‘dirt; animal semen,’ English sour, Lithuanian sūras ‘salty,’ OCS syrъ ‘damp’ (P:1039)] (Holthausen, 1948:289, VW:446). +

+ + +
+

+sūryakāṃtṣṣe* +(adj.) +‘pertaining to sun-crystal’
+[m: //sūryākāṃtṣi, -, -] +(73b4, 75b1). +∎An adjective from *sūryakānt from BHS sūryakānta- ‘sun-crystal, sun-stone.’ +

+ + +
+

+Suwarte* +(n.) +‘Suvarta’ (PN)
+[-, Suvarti, -//] +(490-II-2). +

+ + +
+

+suwo +(n.) +‘pig, hog’
+[suwo, -, suwa//] +suwo = BHS sukhara [in the calendrical cycle] (549a6), suwa-pikulne wace meñaṃntse /// ‘in the year of the pig, the ... of the second month’ (G-Qo-1). + -- swāṃññe ‘prtng to a pig’: swāṃññe weṃṣṣiye kränkaññe weṃṣiye kuñiye weṃṣṣiye ‘pig excrement, chicken excrement, and dog excrement’ (P-1b3), swāñana misa mitämpa wirot ‘pork flesh with honey [is] forbidden’ (ST-a3); +
+suwāññe-uwātato* (meter of 4 x 15 syllables [rhythm 8/7 or 7/8]): (108b9). +∎From PIE *sū- [: Avestan (gen. sg.) hū, Latvian suvêns ‘young pig, piglet,’ Greek hûs (m.) ‘boar,’ (f.) ‘sow,’ Albanian thi ‘pig,’ Latin sūs ‘id.,’ Old English sū ‘sow’ (P:1038; MA:425)] (Feist, 1913:152, VW:446). The Tocharian word represents a virtual PIE *suw-on-. +

+ + +
+

+Suśākh* +(n.) +‘(the constellation/zodiacal sign) Viśākhā’
+[-, -, Suśākh//] +(M-2a2). +∎From BHS viśākhā- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+se +(demonstrative/pronoun) +‘this’
+[m: se, -, ce//] [f: sā, tāy, tā//toy, -, -] [nt: te, tentse, te//]. +∎TchA sa- and B se which occurs by itself and extended by -n (see seṃ) reflect PTch *se from PIE *so/seh_a [: Greek ho/hē/tó, Sanskrit sá/sā/tát, etc. (P:978-979; MA:457)] (Meillet in Hoernle, 1916:383, VW:410). +See also seṃ, su, and samp. +

+ + +
+

+sek +(pronoun) +‘this’
+sek paratītyasa[mutpāt] (151a1). +∎se, q.v., + -k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+sekretke = sek retke +‘this very army’ (?)
+sekretke (499b3). +

+ + +
+

+sekwe +(n.) +‘pus’
+[sekwe, -, -//] +/// yente sekwe yasar laike/// (H-149.81a1 [Thomas, 1972:446]). + -- sekweṣṣe ‘prtng to pus’: yasar sekweṣṣe y[o]/// (H-149-ADD.19b5 [Thomas, 1954:737]); +
+sekwetstse ‘purulent’: tanaulykaṃ ramt sekwetse pīle ra ‘like the flies ... the purulent wound’ (48a5). +∎TchA saku and B sekwe reflect PTch *sekwe from PIE *sok^wó- ‘sap, resin’ [: Greek opós (m.) ‘sap,’ Albanian gjak (m.) ‘blood,’ Lithuanian sakaî (m.pl.) ‘resin,’ OCS sokъ (m.) ‘sap, juice of fruits’ (cf. P:1044; MA:499-500)] (Pisani, 1942-43a:28, VW:411). +

+ + +
+

+seṃ +(pronoun) +‘this’
+[m: seṃ -, ceṃ//-, ceynaṃts, ceṃ] +/// empreṃtsñe seṃ se ste (112b4). +∎From se, q.v., + n. +

+ + +
+

+Senawärke +(n.) +‘Senāvarga’ (PN in a graffito)
+[Senawärke, -, -//] +(G-Qm8). +

+ + +
+

+Senemitre +(n.) +‘Senāmitra’ (PN)
+[Senemitre, -, -//] +(440a3, LP-21a2/3). +

+ + +
+

+senik* +(adv.) +‘under one's care’
+[-, -, senik//] +cwī ykuwa toṃ ykantene wolok[trä] -mw ente lwāsāts raṣpä senik comp kalpäṣṣäṃ ‘if he [scil. the king] tarries sad (?) in these places walked on by him [scil. Uttara], he entrusts them to the animals [he lets them achieve care by the animals]’ (88b1/2), [k_use] su piś-cmelṣeṃ senik wnolmeṃ po wärpāte ‘he who has taken the beings of the five-births into care’ (220a1). +∎Certainly a borrowing, ultimately at least from an Iranian source. Possibly from pre-Khotanese *zēnīk (Khot. ysīnīta- ~ ysīnīya-) or Sogdian zynyh or Kroraina Prakrit jheniǵa- (from Iranian), all derivatives of the Iranian adjective seen in Avestan zaēna- ‘watching over’. Cf. Krause/Thomas, 1960:55, VW:639-640. For a discussion of 88b2 and 220a1, see Thomas (1983:242). +

+ + +
+

+sendri +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘possessing senses’
+(193a9, 193a10). +∎From BHS sendriya-. +

+ + +
+

+sepīya(-) +(?)
+kalpaṣṣe sepīya/// (538b3). +

+ + +
+

+seme* +(nm.) +‘± water-dipper’ (?)
+[//-, -, semeṃ] +indrintaṣṣeṃ semensa yoku-c ersna snai [so]ylñe ‘with the water-dippers of the senses I drink your form without satiety’ (241b2/3). +‣The translation ‘feeler, antenna’ sometimes found for this word does not make as much sense in the context of the metaphor in which it occurs. +∎If the meaning given here is correct, it must be a derivative, in PIE terms *somo-, from *sem- ‘ladle, pour’ [: Old Irish -sem- ‘pour out,’ Lithuanian sémti ‘ladle’ (P:901-902, with other, mostly nominal, cognates)]. +

+ + +
+

+seri +(n.) +bird sp.
+[seri, -, -//] +kokīl ṣparā-yäkre seri yam[uttsi] /// ‘cuckoo, sparrow-hawk [?], seri, and goose’ (575b2). +

+ + +
+

+seriñ* +(n.[pl. tant.]) +‘comb’ (?)
+[//-, -, seriṃ] +/// päkṣalya serintsa matsi wakṣālle ‘...[is to] be cooked; with seriṃ the headhair [is to] be combed [?]’ (W-12a5). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+serke +(nm.) +‘cycle, circle’
+[serke, serkentse, serke//serki, -, serkeṃ] +serke cmelñe-srukalñents[e] ‘the cycle of birth and death’ (30a3), witsakaṣṣai [lege: -eṃ] serkeṃ = BHS mūlasaṃtāni (530a2), cmelaṣṣe serke = BHS jātisaṃsāro (542b7), wmerṣṣi serki ramt ‘like circlets of jewels’ (585a4), tañ kemeṣṣepi serkentse = BHS tvaddantapankty- ‘set/group composed of thy own teeth’ (H-ADD.149.79b5 [Couvreur, 1966:178]), serkene po cmelaṣṣe ‘in the cycle of all births’ (S-4b2). +∎TchA sark and B serke reflect PTch *serke. In Indo-European terms this would mean *sorkos from *serk- ‘make a circle, complete; make restitution’ [: Latin sarciō ‘make restitution; make whole (i.e. repair, mend),’ sarcina ‘bundle,’ Albanian gjarkëz ‘peritoneum’ (< *‘that which surrounds’), Greek hérkos (nt.) ‘wall, rampart, enclosure’ (hérkos odóntōn ‘set of teeth’), Hittite sarnikzi ‘makes restitution’ (P:912; MA:108)]. Not with Schneider (1939:252, also VW:414) to the otherwise isolated Sanskrit sraj- ‘wreath, garland’ (a connection mentioned but not endorsed by Mayrhofer, 1976:553). +

+ + +
+

+sew- +(vi.) +‘?’
+Ps. II/III /sew^'ä/_e-/ or /sewe-/ [MPImpf. -, -, sewītär//] +/// śaiṣṣe se kleśanmaṣṣai wämyu räskre kāswasā | ankain placsa sewīträ atkwalṣpä [] pelaikneṣṣe sāṃtk=ai/// (282a4). +

+ + +
+

+Sessatatte* +(n.) +‘Śeṣadatta’ (PN of a merchant)
+[Sessatatte, -, Sessatatteṃ//] +(492a1). +

+ + +
+

+saindhava +See sintāp. +

+ + +
+

+sai-n- +(vb.) +‘support oneself, lean (on); stanch’
+Ps. Xa /sāinäsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, sainaskentär//] (125a2); Ko. I /sāin-/ [MP -, -, sainänträ//; Inf. saitsi]; Ipv. /p(ä)sāinā-/; Pt. IIIa /sāins-/ [MP sentsamai [sic], -, -//] (515b4); PP /sāsāino-/ +t[s]i[r]au[ñ]e[ṣṣ]aiṣpikaisa saitsī pre[ke] ‘the time to lean on the crutch of energy’ (281b3/4), śabaralodrä lykaśke tsatsāpar yasarsa saitsi ‘Symplocos racemosa, a fine poultice [thereof] [is] to stanch blood’ (P-2a5); psaina kl[autsai] = BHS avadhatsva śrotaṃ (527a1); kektseñ- palskoś sasainu anāṣṣälñe satā[ṣl]ñ[e] ‘one who has supported breathing in and breathing out by body and soul’ (41a1), yaikoṣ sasainoṣ = BHS [a]gre kṛtāś ca (194b4), /// nke sasainu osne ṣmalle ‘to sit in a house with arms akimbo’ (322a1). +∎Etymology obscure. TchA se- and B sai-n- reflect PTch *sāi- (for the underlying -ā-, witness the A preterite participle sāseyu and likewise B sasainu). Given the underlying -ā-, VW's etymology (425) *sod-y- (from PIE *sed- ‘sit’) cannot be exactly correct. Perhaps from *sōd-ye/o- though such a lengthened grade would be somewhat surprising (the apparent lengthened grades in Balto-Slavic are all presumably the result of Winter's Law). Perhaps, instead we have PIE *seh₂y- ‘bind’ (P:891-892)--compare the meaning ‘stanch.’ The present and subjunctive reflect a PIE *neu-present (relegated to the subjunctive in Tocharian) and a derived iterative-intensive present *-nu-sḱe/o-. +See also saim. +

+ + +
+

+saim +(nf.) +‘support, refuge’
+[saim, -, saim (voc. saim)//] +ce klautkesa yke-postäṃ āst=āstantso s[ai]m lkāṣṣäṃ tarne täṅtsi ‘by this process he sees from the bones and the cover of bones up to the top of the skull’ (10b7), saim yes yamaṣat ‘you made yourselves a refuge’ (35a3), piś bhūminta saim yāmu ‘he who has the five earths [as] support’ (41a6), pontäts saimo kärtse-ritai añmālaṣka ‘O refuge of the world, seeker after good, merciful one’ (229b3/4), saim ñäṣṣeñcai ‘seeking refuge’ (402a2), saim yā[mormeṃ] = BHS niḥśṛtya (PK-NS-13+516b5 [Couvreur, 1967[1969]:154]). + -- saimatstse* ‘± having sought refuge’ (?): ekäṣ saimacce yak vijñāṃ lkāṣeñca se/// (194b6); +
+saim-wäste ‘support and refuge; protector’ (often an epithet of the Buddha): [ñäkteṃts] ñakte pudñäk[t]e saim-waste su ‘the god of gods, the Buddha, the support and refuge’ (8a8), yes _upādhyāyi wesi saiym waste ṣeycer-me ‘you teachers were our support and refuge’ (108a6), saim-wästa = BHS nātha ‘protector, refuge’ (H-149.242 [ibid.:169]); +
+ saim-wästetstse ‘having support and refuge’: [śi]kamaiyyai saim-wästetse cākkä/// (583b1). +∎From sai-, q.v., + -m (cf. for the formation sārm). +

+ + +
+

+saile(-) +‘?’
+śaiṣṣeny=alek yku āwi pācer saile/// (289b3). +

+ + +
+

+saiwiśkane +(n.[du.]) +‘the two young sons’
+In an unpublished Paris fragment (K. T. Schmidt, 1980:408). +∎From *seyw- (< *soyw-, a byform of *soyu which gave soy, q.v.) + the diminutive -äśke. +

+ + +
+

+saiwe +(n.) +‘itch, itching’
+[saiwe, -, -//] += BHS kaṇḍū- (Y-3a4). +∎From PIE *seh_ai-wo- [: Latvian sievs ‘sharp, biting, harsh’ or Latin saevus ‘raging, furious, cruel;’ more distantly: Old Irish sáeth ‘pain, sickness’, Welsh hoed ‘pain’, Old Norse sárr ‘wounded’, Old English sār ‘bodily pain, wound, sore’, OHG sēr ‘sore’, Gothic sair ‘pain’, (P:877; MA:413, 568)] (VW, 1941:109, 1976:411). +

+ + +
+

+saiwai +([indeclinable] adj.) +‘left’
+saiwai āntsesa yaitu ‘decorated on the left shoulder’ (74b4), śwālyai märkwatsa ok-pokai Viṣṇ[u] saiwaisa no Mahiśvare märkwactsa tañ kau_urṣa-pkai ‘on the right leg the eight-limbed Viṣṇu, on the left, however, on the leg the steer-armed Mahīśvara’ (74b5). +‣For the meaning, see the discussion in Winter (1985a). +∎Obviously related in some fashion with Sanskrit savyá-, Avestan haoya-, OCS šujь, all ‘left’ (Winter, 1985a). Perhaps, with metathesis, from PIE *sowyo- or by contamination with the predecessors of Greek skai[w]ós, Latin scaevus, and laevus, all ‘left.’ VW's discussion (410) and that of his predecessors is based on the erroneous meaning ‘right.’ +

+ + +
+

+sok(t)* +(nf.) +‘opinion’ (??)
+[-, -, sok(t)//] +stiyai sokne karūnt[sa] (239b6). +∎Perhaps the noun underlying soktatste, q.v. and also perhaps the equivalent of TchA soktaṃ (the locative of the name of a meter?). +

+ + +
+

+soktatstse +(adj.) +‘± opinionated, persistent’ (?)
+[m: soktatstse, -, -//] +weñi so[k]ta[tse] (63a1), sokta[tse] (63a3), soktattse su vāsi[ṣṭh]e/// (350b5). +∎If the meaning is correct, perhaps ultimately from PIE *seh_ag- [: Gothic sōkjan ‘seek, dispute,’ Latin sāgio ‘feel keenly,’ and (for the meaning), Icelandic säkinn ‘persistent’ (P:876-877)]. Therefore, seh_ag-tu- + -tyo- (Hilmarsson, 1986a:17, with differing details). Otherwise VW (434) where he takes it as a borrowing from (an unattested) pre-Tocharian A *sokta < *sakuta < *soǵ^huto- from *seǵ^h- ‘hold, maintain.’ +See also sok(t). +

+ + +
+

+soṃśke +(nm.) +‘[dear] son’ (dimin.)
+[soṃśke, soṃśkentse, soṃśke (~ soṃśka) (voc. soṃśka] +)//] Araṇemiñ lānte Uttare ñemtsa soṃśke ‘the dear son of King Araṇemi, Uttara by name’ (81a5), sauśka (83a4), paṣ paṣ kärpīyeṃts soṃśka wesäñ ñake ṣarnene kekamu nest ‘go, go, son of commoners; now thou has come into our hands’ (85b6), ñiśmeṃ tsrorsa larepi soṃśke[ntse] ‘by separation from me of my dear son’ (86b4), [śai]ṣṣe täṅw ̇s [lege: täṅw[ä]t] lareṃ soyñśka ramt ‘thou wilt love the world like [thy] dear son’ [restorations after Thomas, 1968:205] (226a1). +∎In synchronic terms it is the diminutive of soy, q.v. (< *suh_xyu-), but in diachronic terms the diminutive of a separate PIE word for ‘son,’ *suh_xnu- [: Sanskrit sūnú-, Gothic sunus, Lithuanian sūnùs, etc. (P:913; MA:533)] (as if from *suh_xnukiko-). Possible, but less likely phonologically, is the derivation from *soyṃśke, i.e. soy + (diminutive) -ṃśke (VW:434). There is soyñśka (acc. sg.) (226a1) which might support such an analysis but it might just as well be seen as a conflation of soy and soṃśke. +

+ + +
+

+sopi(ye)* +(n.) +‘net’
+[//-, -, sopiṃ] +pilkontaṣṣana yaipoṣ so[piṃne] ‘entered in the nets of ideas’ (29b5). + -- sopitstse* ‘having a net’: sopittsa = BHS jālinī (11a5). +∎TchA sopi ‘net’ and B sopi(ye) reflect PTch *sopiye (as if) from PIE *supi-h₁en- from *sup- ‘throw’ [: Latin supāre ‘to throw,’ Lithuanian supù ‘rock (a child in a cradle),’ OCS sъpǫ ‘throw’ (P:1049; MA:582)]. For the semantics, compare Lithuanian mèsti ‘to throw’ and metinýs ‘net’ (Hilmarsson, 1986a:38). Otherwise VW (434) who takes it to be a derivative from *syuh₁- ‘sew.’ +

+ + +
+

+Somarakṣite +(n.) +‘Somarakṣita’ (PN)
+[Somarakṣite, -, -//] +(Dd6/4). +

+ + +
+

+Some +(n.) +‘Soma’ (PN of a brahman)
+[Some, -, -//] +(350b2). +

+ + +
+

+somār +(adv.) +‘one each’
+somār ytārisa makci spo[rtontär] ‘they themselves moved, each along a single way’ (28a5). +∎A derivative of somo, itself part of the paradigm of ṣe ‘one,’ q.v., + the distributive suffix -ār. +

+ + +
+

+somo, somo-somo, and somw-aiñyai +See ṣe. +

+ + +
+

+somotkäññe +(conj.) +‘likewise, similarly’
+[or (adv.) ‘uniformly’?] +waike lāre yāmtär ksa ṣek somo[tkñ]e waikesa/// ‘[if] someone always makes a lie dear, likewise/similarly by a lie...’ (78b5/6), [okt bodhisatveṃts] somotkäṃñe wikṣallona wäntarwa skente ‘likewise affairs are put away by the eight bodhisatvas’ (600b5), śwātsi mā āñme somotkäṃñe sosoyusa kektseñe mäsketär-ne ‘to eat [there is to him] no desire; likewise is the body sated’ (FS-a3). +∎A derivative of somo (see s.v. ṣe) but the exact nature of the suffix (or perhaps the second member of the compound) is unclear (cf. Winter, 1991:103). +

+ + +
+

+somp- +See sāmp-. +

+ + +
+

+soy- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘satisfy oneself, be satisfied’, K ‘satisfy’
+G Ps. I /soy-/ [//-, soycer, -]; Ko. I /soy-/ [Opt. -, -, soyi//; Inf. soytsi]; Pt. Ib /soyā-/ [//-, -, soyāre]; PP /sosoyo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /soyäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, soyäskeṃ; APart. soyäṣṣeñca]; Ko. IXb /soyäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. soyäs(t)si]; Pt. IV /soyäṣṣā-/ [-, soyäṣṣasta, soyäṣṣa//-, -, soyäṣṣare] +māwk soycer piś-cmelṣana läklenta/// ‘are you still not sated with the sufferings of the five births?’ (12b4); swāräṣṣat mā soytsi cämpyāsä ‘you found pleasure [but] you could not be sated’ (32b7), empelona kleśanma mai no palsk]o soyi päst sañat tākoy (TEB-64-06); soyāre laitkär tekī ‘they were satisfied/sated and removed disease’ (H-149-add.122a2 [Couvreur, 1954c:87]); cmelñe srūkalñesa tākaṃ sosoyu ‘from birth and death will he be sated’ (64b4), warsa ite mettattärṣṣe [lege: maittärṣṣe] aräñc[äṣṣ[e] samudrä täñ sosoyu ‘thy heart-ocean, filled with the water of friendship, is satisfied’ (221a1), sosoyoṣ = BHS tṛptāḥ (U-3b3); /// aräñc soyṣṣeñca śaiṣṣentse wlo ‘satisfying the heart, the king of the world’ (515a3), /// soyäskeṃ-ne wāki allonkna lokadhātunt[ameṃ] (567b2); intriṣṣe samuddär mā soyässi cämyāwa ‘I could not satiate the ocean of sense’ (TEB-63-02); soyṣa po wnolme śwā[ts]i [yoktsi āyorsa] ‘he satisfies all beings through the gift of food and drink’ (22a7). + -- soylñe ‘satiation, satiety’: persat soylñe ekñesa ‘call up satiation out of possession’ (32b6), yetwe śāsantse pelke ṣamāññe ṣotri krentäntso soylñe weweñu ‘the jewel of the law, the Udāna, the monkish textbook [is] called the satiation of good things’ (33a2/3), soylñe = BHS tṛptiḥ (U-3b2). +∎Etymology obscure. Perhaps from PIE *seh₂(i)- ‘satisfy’ [: Hittite sāh- ‘stuff full, clog up,’ Sanskrit asinvá- ‘insatiable’ (< *ṇsh₂i-n(e)w-), Greek áetai ‘satisfies himself’ (< *sh₂y-e/o-), Latin satis ‘full, sated,’ Old Irish sáith ‘satiety’ (< pre-Celtic *sāti-), Gothic saþs ‘sated,’ gasōþjan ‘satiate,’ Lithuanian sotùs ‘satiated,’ sótis (f.) ‘satiation,’ OCS sytъ ‘satiated’ (with difficult -y-), etc. (P:876; MA:500)]. This etymology goes back in nuce to Pedersen, 1941:264 (cf. also Bailey, 1958b:531, Winter, 1962a:32). The TchB soy- may be a generalization throughout the paradigm of a shape proper to the preterite singular or subjunctive (cf. yop- [< yäp- ‘enter’], wotk- [< wätk- ‘decide’], or- [< ār- ‘leave’], etc. [Adams, 1979]). Compare, with a different generalization of ablaut, TchA si-n- ‘satisfy.’ Also possible for TchB, though less likely for TchA, is VW's derivation (426) of both from a PIE *suh_ady- (I would assume *suh_ad-ye/o-) [: Sanskrit sūdaya- ‘make tasty, swee en, heal’], related to PIE *sweh_adu- ‘sweet’ (more s.v. swāre). +

+ + +
+

+soy +(nm.) +‘son’
+[soy, seyi, soy/saiwi?, -, -/säsuwa, säsuwaṃts, säsuwa] +śakkets soyṣai ksa Hastake ñem ‘it was a son of the śākyas, Hastaka by name’ (19a3), māñyeṃ mañyanats śnoy säswa-tkātärts ‘for slaves and slave-women, for wife, for sons and daughters’ (33a5/6), ñäṣṣītr=ākālk seyi cmelñeṣṣe ‘may he cherish a wish for the birth of a son’ (42b4), soy śano makce ṣpä yaṣṣāte-ñ ‘he asked of me son, wife, and self’ (85a1). + -- soy(a)ṣṣe ‘prtng to a son’: ñake ñy= āttsaik päst pärmank [k]ärstāte nekwa soyṣe naumye ñäś ci ‘now my hope is completely cut off [for] I have lost thee, my son-jewel’ (246a4/5). +∎TchA se and B soy suggest PTch *soy while TchA seyo ‘son's’ and B seyi ‘id.’ suggest PTch *seyew (the -i of the B genitive is obviously analogical (cf. pātri ‘father's,’ mātri ‘mother's’) while the -o of A is from PIE *-ous (cf. Gothic sunaus), as was seen by Peterson, 1939:90, and Pedersen, 1941:53. As Smith saw already (1910:15), the paradigm as a whole must go back to PIE *suh_xyu-, as in Greek huiús. Other IE forms that should be compared are Sanskrit sūnú- (m.) ‘son,’ Avestan sunu- ‘id.,’ Gothic sunus, Old English sunu (> Modern English son), Lithuanian sūnùs, and OCS synъ, all ‘son’ (P:913; MA:533). The forms in PIE suh_xnu- are also preserved in Tocharian, in the diminutive soṃśke, q.v. PIE suh_xyu- and suh_xnu- are both derived from the verbal root *seuh_x-, on which see below. +
+To account for the vowel of the root syllable in Tocharian, it seems best to start with a pre-Tocharian *soyu- (with dissimilation opposite that seen in Greek huiós--the ultimately more frequent competitor to huiús) which would produce all of the attested Tocharian forms discussed so far. Particularly probative as far as the root vocalism is concerned is the derivative saiwiśkane ‘the two dear sons.’ The difference between soy and saiw- is (in PIE terms) that between *soyu and *soyw-; a *sūyw- could only have given **soyw-. VW (424-425) starts from a pre-Tocharian *sūyu- but is then forced to consider B seyi to be a borrowing, at least in its root vocalism, from A seyo (he does not discuss saiwiśkane). See also Winter's discussion (1985b). +
+VW (639) takes the TchB plural säsuwa to be a borrowing from some Prakrit (e.g. Pali) sisu/susu ‘lad, young one, boy.’ Much more likely is Winter's proposal (1985b:260-261) to see säsuwa, with its derivatives säsuwerṣṣe ‘pertaining to children’ and säsuwerśke ‘dear son,’ as reflecting an old (reduplicating) preterite participle from *seuh_x- ‘give birth’ (i.e. neuter singular *susuh_xus > *säsū + plural *-ā; cf. also Krause, 1956:196), just as we find in śeśu ‘eaten’ and śeśuwer ‘what was eaten.’ It is this *seuh_x- which, of course, underlies PIE *suh_xyu- and *suh_xnu- [: Sanskrit sūte ~ súvate ~ suváti ~ sāuti ‘generates, enlivens, impels,’ sūyate ‘be begotten, brought forth,’ Avestan hunāmi ‘increase’]. +See also soye, saiwiśkane, säsuśke, säswerṣṣe, säsuwerśke. +

+ + +
+

+soye +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘doll’
+[soye, soyentse, soye//] +Anuratne śāmñe ayāṣe curm yamaṣle ekve soye tsikale tumeṃ cwi soyetse śireṃ yepesa āśe kärstālya ‘in Anurādhā [the Scorpion] a powder of human bone [is to] be made, then a doll [is to] be shaped, then the head of this doll [is to] be cut off with a sharp knife’ (M-2a3), sanäṃ tekiññe yāmtsi āñme tākaṃ-ne kewiye melteṣe soye yāmoṣ nässait yamaṣle ‘[if] one has the wish to make an enemy sick, having made a doll of cow dung, a spell [is to] be cast’ (M-3b3). +∎A derivative of soy, q.v. (soy + -e). +

+ + +
+

+sorromp +(adv.) +‘down’ [only with klāy- ‘fall’]
+[ri]tāte akālk sorro[mp] k[l]āya poyśintse ‘he cherished a wish and fell down [in front] of the Buddha’ (22a8), eñcwaññai kentsa [k]l[āya] sorromp läklessu ‘on the iron earth the suffering one fell down’ (22b6), mācer śem-neś eś-lmausa 7 klāysa [lege: klāya] soysa sorromp ‘the mother came to him, blinded 7. she fell down before him’ (49a7). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion (sorr- < PIE *sōd-r-, a derivative of *sed- ‘sit’) + -omp ‘there’), see VW (435). +

+ + +
+

+solme +(adj./adv.) +‘complete(ly), altogether’
+anantārśänta solme tarya yāmṣate ‘he committed the three ānantaryas [sinful actions bringing immediate retribution] altogether’ (22b3), ñumka-ṣe solme kalpa[nma] ‘altogether 91 kalpas [long]’ (25a3), solmona indri[nta] ‘all sense-organs’ (119b5), poyśiś aklyamai po solme tarya pṭikänta ‘I learned from the Buddha the whole entire tripiṭaka’ (440b3), ma te tsatsaltarmeṃ naukäṃnne so[lme] su śūke mā=yśtär-ne ‘not having crushed it he swallows it; the whole of its taste he does not savor’ (407a1/2), sū cwī yāmor solme msketär ‘the action of whom is complete’ (AMB-b6), nraintane cmenträ solmeṃ omte śaul śāyeṃ ‘they will be [re]born in hells; there they will live [their] whole life’ (K-2b4). +∎Related to TchA salu ‘id.’ which obviously reflects PIE *solwo- [: Greek hólos ‘whole, entire,’ Sanskrit sárva- ‘id.,’ Latin salvus ‘id.,’ Albanian gjalë ‘powerful, fat, lively,’ etc. (P:979-980; MA:262)] (Meillet and Lévi, 1913:386). With a different derivational suffix (and the rounding of the vowel in a labial environment) is B solme (< *solmo- [VW:412]). The same formation is to be seen in Khotanese harma- ‘all, any’ (Hilmarsson, 1986a:19). Also with different derivational suffix are Old Latin sollus ‘totus et solidus’ (< *solno-) or Armenian solj ‘whole, healthy’ (< *solyo-). +

+ + +
+

+sauśke +See soṃśke. +

+ + +
+

+sauke +(n.) +‘?’
+[sauke, -, sauke//-, -, saukeṃ] +lyāk sauke tanki /// (74a4), erkatñene kekmu ra sauke ymī[ye mäsketär] (92a3), piñña saukeṃ walāneṃ (429a5). +

+ + +
+

+saumanasye* +(adj.) +‘causing gladness or cheerfulness of mind’
+[m://saumanasyi, -, -] +(176a3). +∎From BHS saumanasya-. +

+ + +
+

+sauvirājan* +(n.) +‘collyrium’
+[-, -, sauvirājan//] +(M-3b4). +∎From BHS sauvīrāñjana-. +

+ + +
+

+skāk* +(n.) +‘± balcony’
+[//-, -, skakanma] +skakaṃmameṃ kaunäntse pärkorne wawākauwa piltāsa ‘from the balconies petals [that had] unfolded at dawn [were strewn]’ (PK-NS-12K-b2 [Winter, 1988:788]), Śimprayentse patsānkäś skakanma laṃsseṃträ ‘they are constructing the balconies to Ś.'s window’ +‣The equivalent and cognate of A skāk. +∎Perhaps a borrowing from A skāk if the latter is (with VW, 1966b:498, 1976:428-429) from PIE *skōko- (m.) ‘that which projects’ [: Old Norse skagi ‘point of land sticking out,’ skōgr ‘forest,’ OCS skokъ ‘leap, bound,’ skočiti (imperfective skakati ‘spring, jump,’ OHG scehan ‘hasten, move away quickly,’ Old Irish scochid ‘goes away, disappears’ (P:922-3)]. +

+ + +
+

+skāw- +(vt.) +‘kiss’
+Ko. V /skāwā-/ [Inf. skāwatsi] +kenīne lamästär-ne auṃ tsate-ne rupaśke kantwas[a] skāwa[tsi] /// ‘thou seatest him on [thy] knees and began to kiss his little face with [thy] tongue’ (83a3). +∎Perhaps borrowed from Khotanese skau- ‘touch’ (< *Proto-Iranian *skāva-)--VW:640, or perhaps related in some fashion to Greek kunéō ‘I kiss’ (< *ku-ne-s-e/o-) and Hittite (3rd. pl.) kuwassanzi ‘they kiss’ (Melchert, p.c.; P:626; MA:335). +

+ + +
+

+Skanatatte* +(n.) +PN of a government official
+[-, Skanatatti, -//] +(Lévi, 1913:316). +

+ + +
+

+skampaumaśśaṃśko* +(n.) +name of a meter of 4X12 syllables (rhythm 4/4/4)
+[-, -, skampaumaśśaṃśkai//] +(107b4). +

+ + +
+

+skär- +(vt.) +‘speak hostilely; threaten; reproach’
+Ps. VI /skärrā-/ [-, -, skarraṃ//MPPart. skärrāmane]]; Ko. V /skārā-/ [-, -, skāraṃ//; Inf. skāratsi]; Pt. Ib /skārā-/ [//-, -, skarāre] +brāh[ma]ṇi Uttareṃ... ścirona rekaunasa skärrāmane weskeṃ-ne ‘the brahmans, threatening Uttara with sharp words, speak to him’ (85b5/6); kautsi pyāktsi skāratsi pär[mankänta karstatsi] ‘to kill, to strike, to threaten, to cut off hope’ (226b3), /// skaraṃ sa [abbrev. for saṃghāvaśeṣ ‘[if] he/they speak hostily [then it is a] saṃghāvaśeṣa’ (314b1); tumeṃ cew ostaññi nāksante-[ne] skarāre-ne ‘then the house-holders blamed him and reproached him’ (337a5/6). + -- skāralñe ‘reproach’ (122a7). +∎The present represents PTch *skärnā- and the root is connected, as VW (1970b:527, 1976:429) perceptively notes, with OHG scerōn ‘be petulant,’ Middle Low German scheren ‘to ridicule.’ +See also the variant with s-mobile, kärr-. +

+ + +
+

+skiyo +(nf.) +‘shade, shadow’
+[skiyo, -, skiyai//] +/// [stā]mantse skiyo ‘the shade of a tree’ (35b5), tañ perneṣai skiyaine ‘in the shadow of thy worthiness’ (205b2), skwänma śaiṣṣe kolokträ ... ceṃ läklenta ompostäṃ kolokanträ skiyo rā ‘the world follows good fortunes; sufferings follow them like a shadow’ (254a1=255a3). +∎From PIE *sḱóih_a (gen. *sḱiyéh_as) ‘shade, shadow’ [: Greek skiá ‘shadow,’ Albanian hije ‘shadow,’ Avestan asaya- ‘who throws no shadow,’ Sanskrit chāyā ‘shade, shadow,’ etc. (P:917-918; MA:508)]. The Tocharian comes (as if) from PIE *sḱiyeh_a-. The lack of the expected initial palatalization may reflect a leveling from the PIE nominative singular. This etymology goes back in embryo to Couvreur, 1950:128 (so also VW:430). +

+ + +
+

+skente +See nes-. +

+ + +
+

+skeye +(nm.) +‘zeal, effort; predisposition; temptation’ ; (pl.) ‘conditioned states (of being)’
+[skeye, skeyentse (?), -//skeyi, skeyeṃts, skeyeṃ] +[snai] skeye kälpāṣṣäṃ su yärpo[nta] ‘without effort he achieves services’ (57a3), skeyeṃ rano aikareṃ tserekwa lkāṣṣäṃ ‘likewise he sees temptations and empty tricks’ (154b4), skey[eṃts prutkālñe]meṃ [= BHS saṃskāranirodha-] (156b1), akalk[äṣṣeṃ] skeyenmeṃ /// ‘from the temptations of wishes’ (278a2), skeyesa sankrām wtetse lmāte ‘by zeal the monastery was re-established’ (DAM.507a3 [Pinault, 1984a:24]), saṃsārmeṃ tsälpeträ yekte skeyentsa ‘he will be freed from the saṃsāra with little trouble’ (K-9b3), ske[ye]nmeṃ cenaṃts ṣñīke tsūwa aiśamñe ‘from the efforts of these [people] wisdom cohered in certainty’ (PK-AS-16.3b2 [Pinault, 1989:157]). + -- skeyeṣṣe* ‘prtng to effort or conditions of being’: /// palskosa - skeyeṣṣeṃ yāmo[r]ntaṃts ṣarmtsa (159b4); +
+skeyessu* ‘zealous’: airpäcce śaul ś[aitsi s]k[eyessontaṃ]ts ‘of [those] zealous to live a life of ataraxie’ (PK-AS-16.2b3/4 [Pinault, 1989:155]). +∎TchA ske and B skeye reflect a PTch *skeye from PIE *sk^woyo- with s-mobile and related to Greek poiéō ‘do’ [: cf. also Sanskrit cinoti ‘arranges, constructs,’ OCS činiti ‘order, arrange’ (P:637-638)] (VW, 1970a:168, 1976:429). The TchA verb ske-/skāy-/skāw- (the last with regular dissimilation of glide before optative -i - in skawiṣ) and B skai- are in origin regular denominatives in -ā- (i.e. *skeyā-). +See also skai-. +

+ + +
+

+skai- +(vi.) +‘strive, attempt’ [often with infinitive complement]
+Ps. VI /skainā-/ [-, -, skainaṃ//-, -, skainaṃ; MPPart. skaināmane]; Ko. V /skāyā-/ [skāyau, -, skāyaṃ//; Opt. skāyoym, -, -//]; Ipv. I /(pä)skāyā-/ [Sg. (pä)skāya; Pl. (pä)skāyas] +skainaṃ ṣek sānkne ‘he is always striving in the community’ (36a2), /// [pañaktäñ]ñ[e] perneśca [= perneśc] skaināmane ‘striving for Buddha-worth’ (95a3), [ma]nt saṃsārne piś-antseṣṣi skainaṃ tne ‘thus those of the five elements strive here’ (286a5), karsatsi skainālle k_use ‘whoever will strive to know’ (192a2); toṃ läklentameṃ ṣañ añm skāyau kr_ui tsalpästsi ‘if I strive to free myself from these sufferings’ (220b2); te[meṃ lä]ntsi päskāya ‘strive to emerge from it’ (295a9), /// [ṣä]rmana skāyas yanmässi ‘strive to enter the origins’ [?] (377a5). +∎A denominative verb from skeye, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+Sknatatte* +(n.) +‘Saṃghadatta’ (PN)
+[-, Sknatatti, Sknatatteṃ//] +(LP-2b1, LP-3a2). +

+ + +
+

+sklok +(nnt.) +‘doubt’
+[sklok, sklokäntse, sklok//-, -, sklokanma] +snai sklok mäskeṃ trä aiśmauñ [lege: aiśmoñ] śāmna ‘the wise men were without doubt’ (73a2), pälskontse sklok ‘spiritual doubt’ (409a1), snai sklok = BHS asaṃdeham (U-1b1). + -- sklokatstse ‘doubtful, doubting’: walo [rano] ce_u preke śaultsa tāka sklokatstse ‘the king likewise was at that time doubtful about life’ (5a2/3), sklokatse = BHS śankito (308b8), sklokacci ṣamāni ‘doubting monks’ (H-149.X.4b2 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +∎Etymology dubious. Perhaps related in some fashion to Sanskrit skhálati ‘vacillates, hesitates’ (so VW:430) or to OHG scëlah ‘oblique’ (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:152). +See also sklokaññ-. +

+ + +
+

+sklokaññ- +(vi.) +‘be doubtful, despairing’
+Ps. XII /sklokäññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, sklokantär//] +[sklo]kantär ñi palsko ‘my spirit is despairing’ (PK-12J-a5 [Couvreur, 1954c]). +∎A denominative verb from sklok, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+skren* +(n.) +sp. of bird (a dove?)
+[-, skrenantse, -//] +skrenantse paruwa mlutāṣällona ‘the feathers of a dove (?) [are] to be plucked’ (W-32b3). + -- skrenṣe ‘prtng to a dove (?)’: Aśleṣñe skrenṣe paiyye śāñcapo-ṣalype pwarne hom yamaṣälle ‘in A. a dove's (?) foot and śāñcapo-oil in the fire; an oblation [is] to be made’ (M-1b8). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+skwaññ- +(vi.) +‘be lucky, fortunate, happy’
+Ps. XII /s(ä)kwäññ^'ä/_e-/ [MP //-, -, skwaññentär] +[kleśa]nmaṣṣi lwāsa cwi maim-pälskone skwaññenträ ‘the kleśa-animals feel themselves lucky in this thought’ (11b5). +∎A denominative verb from sakw, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+skwassu +See sakw. +

+ + +
+

+sñätpe +(n.) +?
+[sñätpe, -, -//] +prakre näkte [lege: mäkte] sñätpe täñ /// ‘strong like thy sñätpe’ (593b2). +

+ + +
+

+stare +See nes-. +

+ + +
+

+stānk* +(n.[msg.]) +‘palace’
+[-, -, stānk//] +[M]ṛgārañ stānkne kreṃnt ‘in the beautiful palace of Mṛgāra’ (3a5), aiśamñeṣṣe ränkormeṃ stānkne /// ‘having climbed up to the palace of knowledge’ [stānkne = BHS prāsāde] (12a6), /// stāṅne ränkormeṃ ‘having ascended to the palace’ (118a1). +∎TchA ṣtānk and B stānk reflect PTch *stānk, perhaps with VW (463) from PIE *stōng^h- and related to Old Norse stokkr ‘pole’ and Old Norse stǫng, OHG stanga, Old English steng ‘pole.’ +

+ + +
+

+stām +(nnt.) +‘tree’
+[stām, stamantse, stām//stāna, stanāṃts, stāna] +Supratiṣṭhit ñem nigrot [ṣai] stanāṃts wlo ‘S. was a nyagrodha, a king of the trees’ (3a7), ṣem=ā[ntsemeṃ] stāna/// [lege: stāmantse (or: stanāṃts wlo [Thomas, 1983:144])] ‘from the first branch of the tree’ (3a8), snai ke_umeṃ ñyäkcyāna ramt stāna ‘like divine trees without a shoot’ (275a1), stanāmeṃ okonta wärskānte ‘they smelled the fruits from the trees’ (576a2), stāna śle sārmna ‘trees with [their] seeds’ (K-8a5), stām ṣañ p[yapyaiṃtsa] = BHS taruṃ svakusumair (PK-NS-414-b4 [Couvreur, 1966: 170]), tronktse stām ‘hollow tree’ (TEB-64-05), stām = BHS drumam (U-20b4). + -- stanātstse* ‘having trees’: mpar-tstsanācce [lege: Āmpar-stanācce] Vaideh śliye [lege:ṣliye] wane [lege: gune] cau ‘in the mountain hollow provided with Āmra trees’ (296b5). +∎Since Meillet (1916:383), TchA ṣtām and B stām (PTch *stām) have been connected with Proto-Germanic *stamma- ‘treetrunk’ (< *stamna-), Latin stāmen ‘warp,’ Greek stēmōn ‘warp,’ Sanskrit sthāman- (nt.) ‘station, place’ all reflecting a PIE *st(e)h₂-mn- ‘(something) standing’ (VW:462). The semantic similarity between Germanic and Tocharian is particularly noteworthy. VW considers the TchB plural stāna as suppletive, coming from PIE *steh₂neh_a [: Sanskrit sthāna- ‘station, place’], Hilmarsson (1986a:308-311, 1986b) attempts to combine the singular and plural in a single etymon by starting from PIE *st(e)h₂dm(e)n-. The nominative stām would be regular from st(e)h₂dmṇ while the plural would be regular from *st(e)h₂dmneh_a with PIE loss of -m- in in a cluster *-Cmn-. Militating against such a proposal is the extreme rarity of -d- extensions to this root (e.g. Greek parastádes ‘anything that stands beside’). As a variant of this latter theory one might start from a putative PIE *steh₂-smṇ, plural *steh₂-smn-eh_a, where the *-m- would disappear regularly as above and the where the *-s- also disappears before a resonant in the history of Tocharian (cf. also särwāna.) +

+ + +
+

+stāl- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘shrivel’; K ‘astringe’
+G Ps. V /stāllā-/ [Ger. stālle (< *stāllalle)]; +
+K Ps. Xb /ṣṭālläsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. ṣtallaṣälle] +ciṣṣe laraumñe ciṣṣe ārtañye [= ārtalñye] pelke kaltta[r]r śolämpaṣṣe [= śaulämpaṣe] mā taṃ [= te] stālle śol [= śaul] wärñai (496a2/3); särāna ṣtallaṣälle tucepi yetsentse ‘the face [is] to be astringed for jaundice’ (W-7b1). +‣Clearly we have an astringent liquid and ṣṭālläsk- means ‘to astringe’ (Adams, 1982:135). +∎TchB /stāllā-/ is from an earlier *stālnā- a denominative in -ā- from a noun *stelne [: Germanic *stallaz, English stall with a different meaning]. This noun, in turn, would be from a PIE verb *stel-ne/o- [: Albanian shtiell ‘reel, draw in,’ Greek stéllō ‘make compact, draw in’ or (in medical texts) ‘make costive, astringe’]. +

+ + +
+

+stäm- +(vb.) +See käly-. +

+ + +
+

+stināsk- +(vi.) +‘be silent’
+Ko. II /stināsk^'ä/_e-/ [Inf. stināstsi]; Ipv. IV /pästināṣṣā-/ [Pl. pstināṣṣar] +/// [mai]yya campalle stināstsi kwri mā katkat peparku poñ (333a7/8); saswa pstināṣṣar pi mcuṣkanta ‘O Lord, let the princes be silent’ (53a2). +∎From PIE *stei(h_x)- ‘become hard, fixed’ [: Sanskrit styāyate ‘becomes fixed, coagulated, hardens,’ stíyā ‘stagnant water,’ stīmá- ‘heavy,’ stimita- ‘unmoving, fixed, silent’ and perhaps Latin stīria ‘icicle,’ East Frisian stīr ‘stiff,’ Lithuanian stýras ‘stiff,’ Germanic *staina- ‘stone’ (P:1010-1011, with further possible cognates; cf. also Mayrhofer, 1976:521)] (VW:442). Given its meaning it would seem reasonable to assume that we have an extension of *steh₂- ‘stand,’ i.e. sth₂-ei- (MA:547). The zero-grade would have been *sth₂i- or, with laryngeal metathesis, *stih₂-. The Tocharian verb would be either *sth₂i-neh_a- or *stih₂-neh_a- with a rebuilt PTch zero-grade, *stäinā- (cf. Adams, 1978). +See also stitstse. +

+ + +
+

+stitstse* +(adj.) +‘quiet’ (?)
+[m: -, -, sticce//] +olyapotstse māka śeśu ... laukar kwaräṣraiweṃ sticce yamaṣṣäṃ ‘eating too much makes the stool sluggish and quiet’ (ST-a2). +∎If the meaning is correct, related to sti-nāsk-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+stiye* +(adj.) +‘?’
+[f: -, -, stiyai//] +stiyai sokne karūntsa mäkte ma[sta] /// ‘as thou didst go out of pity into the stiyai sok’ (239b6). +‣Or an accusative singular noun, ‘in stiya and sok’? +

+ + +
+

+stulāṃ-tränko * +(n.) +‘a thullaccaya-offence’
+[//-, -, stulāṃ-tränkonta] +(334b1). +See sthulāñca. +

+ + +
+

+ste +See nes-. +

+ + +
+

+steṃ* +(n.) +a kind of foodstuff
+[-, -, steṃ//] +patsaṃ śeme steṃ ... śeśuwermeṃ [steṃ = BHS mūlakalaśuna- ?] (ST-a5). +

+ + +
+

+stemye +(n.) +‘stability’ (?)
+[stemye, -, -//] +[mā] stemye ksa [ne]säṃ śaulantse [la]kl[e] snaitse [lege: snaitsñe] tetkāk ṣp känmaṣṣäṃ ‘life has no stability and suddenly suffering and poverty come’ (3b7). +∎From stäm- (s.v. käly-), q.v. +

+ + +
+

+steyasahagamaṃ +(n.) +‘accompaniment of a thief’
+[steyasahagamaṃ, -, -//] +(330b1). +∎From BHS steyasahagamana-. +

+ + +
+

+steyasahaṃ +(adv.) +‘accompanied by a thief’
+(330a5). +∎From BHS *steyasaha- ‘enduring a thief’ (in neither M-W nor Edgerton). +

+ + +
+

+stere +(n.) +‘elder’ [a monastic official]
+[stere, -, -//-, -, stereṃ] +sthereṃ Jñānaseneṃ Āryatewentse skeyesa sankrām wtetse lmāte ‘by the zeal of the elders J. and Ā. the monastery was re-established’ (DAM.507a3/4 [Pinault, 1984a:24]). +∎From BHS sthavira- ~ sthera- (Pali thera-). Cf. TchA (gen. pl.) terāśśi and feminine (acc. sg.) sankä-steryāñce. +See also sthavire. +

+ + +
+

+staukk- +(vi./vt.) +‘swell, bloat’
+G Ps. VI /stāuknā-/ [MP -, -, staukkanatär//]; PP /stāstāukkā-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /staukkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, staukkäṣṣäṃ//; MPPart. staukkäskemane]; PP /śceścuko-/? +/// tso staukkanatär-me śle yasar kalträ klainats ... ynāmñ yamasträ ‘their penis[es] swell, it stands with blood, it is appreciated by women’ (FS-b5); [waipt]ār [k]e[kts]eñän stastaukkauwa āmpauwa spärkauw=ere ‘bodies [spread] around bloated, putrified, and discolored’ (9b7=10a3); olyapotse māka śeśu kor āsäṣṣäṃ arañcä ñuskaṣṣäṃ [kātsa] staukkäṣṣäṃ ‘eaten in excessive quantity it dries the throat, depresses the heart, and bloats the belly’ [= BHS ādhmāpayati] (ST-1a1), arañcä st[aukkä]skemane ‘[with] swollen heart’ [as a metaphor of emotional distress] (85a5); ytārintse ś[e]śśukoṣ [probably to kuk-, q.v.] (82a1). +∎Probably from PIE *steug- ‘stiff’ [: Lithuanian stúkti ‘stand tall,’ Russian stugnutь ‘to freeze’ (< *‘become stiff’?) (P:1033; MA:547)]. For both meaning and etymology, see the discussion of Winter, 1984a:212-215. +

+ + +
+

+stmānma* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘± pipes, tubes’
+[//-, -, stmānma] +wraṃtse stmānma [tro]nkanma pälkowwa mā=naisai tākaṃ (A-2a5). +∎Etymology obscure. Perhaps a derivative of stäm-, q.v. Otherwise VW (442) who relates this word to Greek stóma ‘mouth,’ etc. +

+ + +
+

+strisahagamaṃ +(n.) +‘companionship of a woman while traveling’
+[strisahagamaṃ, -, -//] +(330a3). +∎From BHS strīsahagamana-. +

+ + +
+

+strivighāt* +(n.) +the name of a meter [11/14/11/11 syllables (rhythm a/c/d/: 8/3 or 7/4; b: 7/7 or 8/8)]
+[-, -, strivighāt//] +(282a6). +

+ + +
+

+strīndri* +(n.) +‘female organ, pudendum muliebre’
+[-,-, strīndri//] +/// enkwe tākaṃ strīndri lau /// ‘may a man be far from the female organ’ (193a3). +∎From BHS strīndriya-. +

+ + +
+

+styoneyak +(n.) +‘?’
+[styoneyak, -, -//] +In a list of medical ingredients (W-3b1). +

+ + +
+

+sthavire +(adj./n.?) +‘venerable [man]’
+[m: sthavire, -, -//] +[paryā]rintaṃs sthavire Dharmadā[se] ‘D., the venerable man of the wondrous deeds’? (427b3). +∎From BHS sthavira-. +See also stere. +

+ + +
+

+sthāṃ* +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘place’
+[-, -, sthāṃ//sthananma, -, -] +(108b1, 351a6). +∎From BHS sthāna-. +

+ + +
+

+Sthulanānda +(n.) +‘Sthulanāndā’ (PN of a nun)
+[Sthulanānda, -, -//] +(TEB-67-40, H-149.X.5b3 [Couvreur, 1954b:44]). +

+ + +
+

+sthulāñca +(n.) +‘grave offence’
+[sthulāñca, -, sthulāñca//sthulāñcana, -, -] +(325a4). +∎The equivalent of Pali thullaccaya. +See also stulāṃ. +

+ + +
+

+snāñcau +(adv.?) +‘effectively’ (?)
+ṣe keklyauṣor eñcīmar snāñcau akṣim alyenkäṃts mītalyene ‘may we grasp the thing once heard; may I teach [it] to others effectively (?) [quickly (?)] while strolling around!’ (S-5b4). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+snānaśāl* +(n.) +‘bathing-house, bath-room’
+[-, -, snānaśāl//] +(324b1). +∎From BHS snānaśālā. +

+ + +
+

+snätk- +(vt.) +‘suffuse, permeate, imbue’
+PP /snätku-/ +snätkwa po pwāra ñ[i] kektseṃne nraiṣṣana ‘all the fires of hell have permeated my body’ (22b7), snätkūweṣ tañ pernesa indrinta ślek kektseñe ‘thy senses and body are infused with dignity’ (204b1), po krentaunasa īte tatākau snätkū perne peñäyai[sa] ‘being full of all virtues, imbued with splendid dignity’ (237a3), /// snätku wrocce karūntsa yait warto[ś] ‘suffused with great pity thou didst go into the forest’ (402a3). +∎Related to TchA snotk- ‘id.’ and both from PIE *sn(e)uT-sḱe/o- from PIE *sneu- ‘seep, drip’ (P:972) with a dental extension (cf. Middle Irish snúad ‘river’ or Old Norse snȳta ‘blow one's nose’ (both with *-d-) or OHG snūden ‘pant, snore’]. For a discussion of both meaning and etymology, see Melchert, 1977:117. +

+ + +
+

+snai +(prep.) +‘without’
+wnolmi [tan]e snai spelke mā mrauskalñ=ersenträ ‘beings here [are] without zeal and they do not call forth disgust for the world’ (3a6), snai śawarñe ‘without arrogance’ (20a3), ālyaucempa snai ynāmñe tākaṃ ‘they will be without respect for one another’(27a5), läklessoñc lkāṣyeṃ poyśiṃ snai pts[ak] ‘those suffering ones saw the buddha without batting an eyelash’ (45a3), wäntarwa po snai ṣärm ‘thing [are] completely without origin’ (126b2), snai yepe ‘without a weapon’ (127b5), ostmeṃ ltu k_use snai wīnaṣamāññe cpi waimene ‘whoever has left the house [i.e. become a monk] without pleasure, to him monasticism [is] difficult’ (127b6), śaiṣṣ=ālāṣmo ... ṣai snaiy santkīnaṃt ‘the world was sick, without a doctor’ (212b2), snai menaṃk [lege: menāk] ‘without parallel’ (556a2). +‣Compounds (where snai = BHS a- or nis-) include the following; though the distinction between compounds and snai + noun is hard to draw: + -- snai-āke ‘endless’: (291a5); +
+snai-āñm: (140a5, 154a2); +
+snai-epinkte ‘without interval’: (174b6, 200b2, 384a5); +
+snai-ersna ‘misshapen; formless’: = BHS virūpa- (5b7), = BHS arūpya- (PK-NS-53a3 [Pinault, 1988]); +
+snai-ersnāṣṣe ‘formless’: = BHS arūpya- (PK-NS-53a2 [Pinault, 1988]); +
+snai-ersnatse* ‘id.’: (144a4); +
+snai-olyapo ‘unequalled, unparalleled’: (107a2); +
+snai-ost ‘affording no place to rest’: = BHS aniveśana- (U-23b4); +
+snai-kärstau ‘without interruption’: (85a1); +
+snai-keś ‘numberless’ [= BHS aneka-] (3b2); +
+snai-kauṣṣenta* ‘harmless’: snai-kauṣṣentañ [= BHS ahiṃsakāḥ] (TX-1b4 [Thomas, 1974:79]); +
+snai-krämpālyñetstse ‘without entangle-ment’ (cf. BHS grahana) or ‘without impediment’ (as the TchB seems to suggest): snai trenkäl snai krämpālyñetse = BHS asangam ana pagraham (251b2), +
+snai-cek-wärñaitstse* ‘utterly destitute; disinterested’: snai-cek-wärñaicci [= BHS akiñcana-] (TX-1a4 [Thomas, 1974:79]); +
+snai-ñātse ‘free from evils’: = BHS anīti (543a5); +
+snai-tekiññe ‘free from suffering’: = BHS anātura- (TX-2-b3 [Thomas, 1974:85]); +
+snai-totteññetstse* ‘boundless’: [snai-totte]ññecce [= BHS apāra-] (TX-6a7 [Winter, 1974:97]); +
+snai-tränko ‘sinless’: (20a7, 132a3); +
+snai-trenkäl ‘free from ties, having no attachment, independent’: snai trenkäl snai krämpālyñetse = BHS asangam ana pagraham (251b2), +
+snai-pernerñe ‘made without splendor’: = BHS niṣprabhīkṛta (311a3), +
+snai-pele ‘unlawful, lawless’: (3b1); +
+snai-peleśśañ ‘id.’ (K-T); +
+snai-pewaṃ ‘footless’: lyakäṃ kraupträ snai-pewaṃ wi-pewaṃ śtwer-pewaṃ makā-pewaṃ ‘he gathers thieves, the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, and the many-footed’ (H-149-ADD.8b3 [Hilmarsson, 1989a:93]); +
+snai-pkante ‘without hindrance’: (219a4); +
+snai-mäktauñe ‘incomparable’: (127b7); +
+snai-märkär ‘not turbid, clear’: H-149.198b4 (Thomas, 1976b); +
+snai-märkartstse* ‘id.’: snai-märkarcce [= BHS anāvila-] (H-149.112b2 [Thomas, 1976b]); +
+snai-miyäṣṣälñe ‘harmless(ness)’: = BHS ahiṃsā (H-149.315a2 [Thomas, 1974:84]); +
+snai-miyäṣlñetstse* ‘irreproachable’: snai-miyäṣl[ñ]etsai [= BHS anavadya-] (541a8); +
+snai-muskālñetstse* ‘not being deprived of anything’: snai-muskālñetstsa [= BHS aparihāṇīya-] (542b1); +
+snai-meṃtsñe ‘thoughtlessness, unconcern, negligence’: (22b1); +
+snai-maiyya_u* ‘strengthless’: (46a1); +
+snai-yāmor ‘groundless’: (17a8); +
+snai-yärm ‘numberless, immeasurable’: snai-yä[rm] [= BHS apramāṇa-] (544b3); +
+snai-yärm-keś ‘numberless, immeasurable’: (220a4, 241b3); +
+snai-yase-kwipe* ‘shamelessness’: snai-yase-kwipets parwāne ‘the brows of shamelessness’ (282a5); +
+snai-ykorñe ‘carefulness’ [lit: ‘without negligence’]: (243a2); +
+snai-ykorñeṣṣe ‘prtng to carefulness’: snai-ykorñeṣṣe [n]au[myesa] ‘by means of the jewel of carefulness’ (214b1); +
+snai-ykorñetstse* ‘careful, attentive’: snai-[y]k[or]ñ[ecci] [= BHS apramatta-] (H-ADD.94a1 [Thomas, 1968a: 194]); +
+snai-ypärwe ‘unpreceded, unprecedented’: (205a4, 228a5); +
+snai-yparwäññe ‘that which has not existed before’ (?): (149a2); +
+snai-yparwetstse* ‘having no beginning, existing from eternity’: snai-yparwecce saṃsārne (TEB-64-14); +
+snai-rmamo* ‘not eager, calm, modest’: snai-rmamoñ [= BHS anutsuka-] (TX-2a6 [Thomas, 1974:85]); +
+snai-laiwo-ṣpane ‘without lassitude’ [= BHS atandrita-] (31a5); +
+snai-lyipär ‘without remainder; entire, perfect’: = BHS aśeṣa- (TX-6b3 [Thomas, 1974:98]); +
+snai-ṣaṃṣäl ‘numberless’: [ono]lmi snai-yräm [sic] snai-keś snai-ṣaṃṣäl ‘immeasurable, numberless, countless (triadic) beings’ (169a4); +
+snai-war ‘waterless’: = BHS nirjalam (U-9a3); +
+snai-wäste ‘destitute of refuge, homeless’: yäpoy nketär sū snai-wäste ‘the country is destroyed; he [is] without refuge’ (123a6); +
+snai-weśeññai ‘voiceless, soundless’: = BHS aśabda (193a7); +
+snai-śmalñe ‘having no solid ground, fluctuating’: snai-[ś]m[alñe] = BHS apratiṣṭhaṃ (535a5); +
+snai-sānassu* ‘without enmity’: snai-sānassoñc [= BHS avairika-] (TX-2b5 [Thomas, 1974:85]); +
+snai-saim ‘destitute of refuge, homeless’: = BHS aśaraṇa- (534a1); +
+snai-saimatstse* ‘id.’: (362b4); +
+snai-saim-wäste ‘without refuge’: tsäkṣträ śaiṣṣe ... puwa[r]ne snai-saim-wäste tallaw se ‘the world burns in the fire; he [is] miserable and without refuge’ (295a8); +
+snai-sklok ‘doubtless’: = BHS asaṃdeha (U-1b1-); +
+snai-tsnamñe ‘free from evil influences’: = BHS nirāsrava- (4b2, 31a6); +
+snai-tsnamñetstse* ‘free from evil influences’: (H-149.329b4 [Thomas, 1974:96]). +∎TchA sne and B snai reflect PTch *s(ä)nai and are related to Latin sain ‘different,’ Sanskrit sanitúr ‘besides, without’ (all showing a suffixal -i of some sort) and more distantly to Sanskrit sanutúr ‘aside, away, far from,’ Greek áneu ‘without,’ OHG ānu (with an -u and sometimes without s-). See Meillet and Lévi (1913:409), also VW (433). Perhaps from an old dative *sṇh_aéi beside a locative *sṇh_ai seen in Latin sine (MA:25). +See also snaitstse and possibly āñu. +

+ + +
+

+snaitstse +(adj.) +‘poor’
+[m: snaitstse, snaiccepi, snaicce//snaicci, -, -] +snaice tallānt ikemeṃ ‘from a poor, miserable place’ (31b5=3217), snaici takāre onolmi cwī yapoyne ‘there were poor beings in his country’ (404a7), tūsa snaitse mäsketrä su mā-yāmorsa yärpontaṃts ‘thus he is poor by the not doing of meritorious services’ (K-6b2). + -- snaitsñe ‘poverty’: [mā] stemye ksa [ne]säṃ śaulantse [la]kl[e] snaitse [lege: snaitsñe] tetkākṣp känmaṣṣäṃ ‘life has no stability and suddenly suffering and poverty come’ (3b7), snaitsäñ[ñ]esa ka[kāccu] ‘rejoicing in poverty’ (127a7); +
+snaitsñeṣṣe* ‘prtng to poverty’: āyor saimä ste snaitsñeṣṣai tā_u proskaine ‘a gift [is] the refuge from the fear of poverty’ (23b2). +∎An adjectival derivative from snai ‘without,’ q.v. +

+ + +
+

+snaittu +(n.) +‘?’
+[snaittu, -, -//] +In a list of diseases: tärrek murcä tanki snaittu ra kāswo (ST-b5). +

+ + +
+

+snauki +(n.[pl.tant.]) +‘care, concern’
+[//snauki, -, snauki] +pūdñäktäññe perne eṃṣke mā täñ snaukī ‘thou hast no concern even for Buddha-worth’ (280a5), k_use su tne wnolme snaukine kestne dakṣiṇākeṃts āyornt=aiṣṣäṃ ‘a being who in concern and hunger gives gifts to the worthy ones’ (K-6a2). + -- snaukītstse* ‘having concern’ (?): ce_u kälpormeṃ snaukīce īt[e] akalk lyakā-ne te mant palska (404b8). +∎Etymology obscure. VW (433), in a discussion that is otherwise unlikely (since TchA snotk- does not belong here--see snätk-), points to the possibility of a connection with Sanskrit sānuká- ‘eager for prey.’ The Tocharian might reflect PIE *sn-ou-ko- while Sanskrit reflected *son-u-ko-. +

+ + +
+

+spaktānīke* +(nm.) +‘minister’
+[-, -, spaktanīkeṃ//spaktanīki, spaktanīkeṃts, spaktanīkeṃ] +[spakta]nīkeṃts dhatunma ṣkas-yäknesa lkāṣlo[na] ‘by the ministers [are] the elements [of the body] six-fold to be seen’ (9a4), [spa]ktanīkeṃkāka ot prekṣi-ne ‘he called to the minister that he might question him’ (385a3), spaktanīkentsa snai menkī mäsketrä ‘he finds himself without a lack of servants’ (K-10b3). +∎A derivative of spaktāṃ, q.v., i.e. spaktāṃ + -ike. +

+ + +
+

+spaktāṃ +(nnt.) +‘service’ [spaktāṃ yām- (+ gen.) = ‘to serve s.o.’]
+[spaktāṃ -, spaktāṃ//spaktānänta (K-T), -, -] +aiśamñe spaktāṃ ślek ompalskoññe ‘knowledge, service, together with meditation’ (17b1/2), poyśintats yāmṣar[e] spaktāṃ [ṣamāni] ‘the monks did service to the Buddhas’ (27a1), lānte spaktāṃ ‘king's service’ (33a6), /// ypoyṃtse spaktāṃ /// ‘service of the country’ (52a3). + -- spaktānṣe ‘prtng to service’: spaktānṣe yärpo ‘service of a minister’ (261a3)./ +∎TchB spaktāṃ from A spaktāṃ ‘id.’ (so VW:436) or vice versa. Possibly they are independent reflections of an early PTch *spektānä, (as if) from PIE *spoḱtōnom. In any case, as VW has seen, we have a derivative of *speḱ- ‘see, look at’ [: Sanskrit spáśati/páśyati ‘sees,’ Avestan spasyeiti ‘spies on,’ Greek sképtomai (with metathesis) ‘look about carefully, spy,’ skopéō ‘examine, inspect; consider,’ Latin speciō ‘see,’ OHG spehōn ‘spy’ (P:984)] (Holthausen, 1921:65, VW:436, though details differ). +See also päk-² and päkw-. +

+ + +
+

+spantai +(adv.) +‘trustingly’ [spantai yām- would appear to mean ‘trust’ or the like]
+kroścaṃ warś ce_u yolmene yänmaskeṃ spantai kak[ārpaṣ] ‘having descended trustingly they enter the pool of cold water’ (29a6), Kapilavarṇe brāhmaṇe weṣṣäṃ spantai käṣṣi weṃ ‘the brahman K. speaks, "may the teacher speak trustfully"’ (81a2), späntai[tsñe]mpa śwaraikne späntai mästa nervānne ‘with trust in the fourfold [way] you went trustfully to Nirvana [?]’ (241a4/5). + -- späntaitse ‘trustful, having faith’: yolaiñemeṃ maukatai krent wäntarne späntaicu ‘thou abandoned evil, O [thou who art] trustful of the good thing’ (241a4), späntaitsñentäts aṣāṃ po ci wi[nask]au späntaicu ‘worthy of all trusts, I honor thee, O trustful one’ (241a5/6), skwassu mäsketrä weñenta späntaitse ṣpä prati[nt=erṣeñca] ‘happy is he, a trustworthy speaker evoking resolutions’ (K-10b4); +
+späntaitsñe ‘trustfulness’; +
+späntaistñeṣṣe ‘prtng to trustfulness’: [spä]ntaiytsñeṣṣai wrākai pāyāsta klenauntsai ‘thou didst blow the resounding shell of trustfulness’ (214b4); +
+späntaitsñentaṣṣe ‘id.’: späntaitsñentaṣṣe enku wājrä akautacce ‘having seized the unsplittable vājra of trustfulness’ (TEB-58-18). +∎Spantai would appear to be the adverbially used accusative singular of a noun *spanto ‘trust’ to spänt-, q.v. Compare TchA spānte ‘id.’ with a different vocalism. +

+ + +
+

+sparś +(nnt.) +‘touch’
+[sparś, -, sparś//sparśänta, sparśäntaṃts, -] +ciñcareṃ eñcareṃ mā eñcareṃ sparśmeṃ tetemu = BHS iṣṭo niṣṭobhayaviparitasparśayoni (197b2). +∎From BHS sparśa-. +

+ + +
+

+sparśakāy* +(nnt.) +‘one of the group of [six] contacts (of the sense organs with their objects)’
+[//sparśakāyinta, -, -] +(170b5). +∎From BHS sparśakāya-. +

+ + +
+

+sparśāhār* +(n.) +‘touch-food’ (i.e. that ingested by contact)
+[-, -, sparśāhār//] +(177b2). +∎From BHS sparśāhāra-. +

+ + +
+

+spalce +(adj.?) +///kär spalce yasar po [] kemi wipy olypo/// (121b2). +

+ + +
+

+spārtt- +(vi./vt.) +G (vi/vt.) ‘to turn (intr.), stop (intr.), find oneself; conduct oneself, behave’; K ‘to turn’ (tr.)
+G Ps IV /sportto-/ [-, -, sporttotär//-, -, sporttontär; Impf. -, -, sporttītär//; MPPart. Sporttomane; Ger. sporttole]; Ko. V /spārttā-/ [spārttau, -, spārttaṃ//; AOpt. spārttoym, -, -,//; MPOpt. -, -, spārttoytär//; Inf. spārttatsi]; Pt. Ib /spārttā-/; PP /pāspārttā-/; +
+K Ps./Ko. Ixb /ṣpārttäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-, -, ṣparttaṣṣäṃ//-, -, ṣparttaskeṃ ]; Pt. II /ṣpyārttā-/ [-, -, ṣpyārta//]; PP /peṣpärttu-/ +[palskone] cwi sportonträ trai palskalñi ‘in whose spirit work three ideas’ (8b3), sportoträ läklentaṣṣe cākkär wrotse wnolmentso nano nano ‘the great suffering- wheel of beings turns again and again’ [sportoträ = BHS nirvartate] (11a7), ṣek sportotär ñy aiśamñe poyśiññe ‘my knowledge always concerns itself [with the knowledge] of the Buddha’ (28b6), nāṭakne saṃsārṣṣe wrocce sporttomane ‘being in the great play of the saṃsāra’ (K-12b6); kauc ette kluttankentär toṃ pwenta cākr ente spārtaṃ ‘up and down move the spokes if the wheel revolves’ (30b6), ceṃ śak-wi klautkeṃtsa spārtaṃ ṣamā[ne] ‘if a monk behaves according to the twelve methods’ (64b6), spārtatsintse pelykiṃ = BHS nirvṛtyarthaṃ (177a6), postäṃ saṃsārne kliñi-ñ walke spārtatsi ‘later he must turn me in the saṃsāra’ (206b3=249b1), spārttoym saṃsārne (S-5a6); mā=cārne spārta ‘he did not keep to good conduct’ (44b8); ket ra kartseś paspārtau poyśi ‘to whom who has turned to the good, [namely] the Buddha’ (30b8), enenkaś paspārtau cwi maim palskw=attsaik ‘whose mind strength [is] completely within me’ (41a2), kalymisa spārttau ‘turned in the direction’ (375a5); pelaikneṣṣe yerkwantai taiknesa ... pudñäkte ... ṣparttaṣṣäṃ ‘in this way the Buddha turns the wheel of the law’ (30b7/8), ṣuk pelaiknenta ompte cmelläññe spārttaskeṃ ‘the seven laws induce birth there’ (K-2a4), pelaikneṣṣe laukaññ=eṣpirtacce ṣpartaṣṣim cākkär ‘may I turn the large, unturned wheel of the law’ (Amb-a2); k_use pelaikneṣṣe krent ce_u yerkwantai ... ṣpyārta ‘he who turned this good law-wheel’ (30b3); rṣākeṃts lānte peṣpirttu pelaikneṣṣe cākkär se walke stamoy ‘turned by king and rṣis may this wheel long stand’ (S-5b3). + -- spārttalyñe ‘behavior’: Mahākāśyape ṣañ kreṃnt spārtalyñesa ‘M. [is] with his own good behavior’ (12a5), śaiṣṣentse spārttalñe (149a2), spā[rta]lñe ṣpä = BHS nirvṛttiś ca (177a5), ecce spārtalñe = BHS pravṛtti- ‘evolution’ (Y-3b3); +
+spārttalyñeṣṣe ‘prtng to behavior’ (549b1); +
+paspārttarmeṃ [o]mp[o]stä [sic] paspārttarmeṃ ṣpä = BHS adharmam anuvartya ca? (305a5). +
+spārtṣlñe ‘turning’: pel[ai]kn[eṣṣe] yerkwantai spārtṣlñesa tsyālpāte wnolmeṃ‘through the turning of the law-wheel he freed beings’ (30b4/5). +∎A rebuilt denominative verb (early PTch *sperttā-), built on spertte, q.v. +See also eṣpirtatte, spertte, spārtto. +

+ + +
+

+spārtto +(nm.) +‘± discipline, technique’ (?)
+[spārtto, -, spārtto//-, -, spārttaṃ] +/// mātriṣlārccepi spārtto mā lkāṣle (324a4), /// krentä spārttosa klyautkāmte /// ‘by good discipline we turned’ (428b3), sparttāṃtsa sū pañäkte-käṣṣintse palsko yänmāṣṣeñca mäsketrä ‘by disciplines the Buddha-teacher is entering thought’ (558b2). +∎A derivative of spārtt-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+spālk- +(vi.) +‘be zealous [for], make an effort [to]; be eager/anxious to’
+Ps. IXa /spālkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, spalkkaskentär; Impf.//-, -, spalkaṣyentär; MPPart. spalkaskemane]; Pt. Ib /spālkā-/ [-, -, spalkāte//] +///t^.i ram no ecce mänte [lege: mäkte] keṃtsa spalkaṣyeṃ[ntär] /// (100b4), spalkkaskentär-ñ katkauñaṣṣe warkṣältsa (Paris [no signature] [Couvreur, 1954c:84]); yāmornta ñitkāre-ne spalkāte-ne ram no arañce rīmeṃlantsi ‘deeds urged him on; his heart was anxious to leave the city’ (DA-1a1 [Couvreur, 1954c:84]), yolaiṃ wāṣmots ṣeṣartu kausa pātär krent tañ paiynene spalkāte ‘egged on by evil friends, he killed [his] good father and was eager [to take refuge] in thy feet’ (TEB-64-12). +‣Winter (1984b:120) argues for a verb of motion here: ‘flapped around’ or ‘crawled’ or the like. Couvreur (1954c:84-5) similarly suggests ‘sich wälzen.’ Thomas (1983:252-3) is firm in seeing this verb as a denominative to spelke and thus with the meaning given here. +∎A denominative verb from spelke, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+spāw- +(vb.) +‘± subside, run dry’
+Ps. IV /spowo-/ [-, -, spowotär//] +tsenketär spowoträ ‘arises and subsides’ H-149.81a3 [Hilmarsson, 1991:36]). +∎If the meaning is basically ‘draw away, withdraw’ this verb might be connected to Greek spáō ‘draw, pull’ from a PIE *(s)peh_a- (Hilmarsson, 1991:36). More s.v. pänn-. Alternatively we might think of a connection with PIE *speh₁- ‘be filled’ [: Old English spōwan ‘thrive, succeed, profit, avail,’ Lithuanian spėju ‘have free time,’ OCS spěti ‘be successful, prosper,’ Sanskrit sphāyate ‘grows fat,’ (P:983-984; MA:500)]. +See also aspāwatte and possibly pänn-. +

+ + +
+

+spänt- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘trust’; K ‘trust in’
+G Ps. III /spänte-/ [MP -, -, späntetär//-, -, späntentär; Ger. späntelle]; Ko. V /späntā- ~ spāntā-/ [MPOpt.-, -, späntoytär//]; PP /spänto-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /späntäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. ṣpantäṣṣälle*]; PP /peṣpäntu-/ +/// [ke]ry[eṃ] kāñmeṃ spänteṃnträ onwaññe śaul ‘they laugh, they play, they believe, "life [is] eternal"’ (2b2), śau[l]mpa mā spänteträ ‘do not trust in life’ (3b4/5), [mā tne] s[pä]ntelle cmela-saṃsārmpa ‘one must not trust in lives and the saṃsāra’ (15a2), mā späntelle ‘one must not [be] trustful’ (46b8); [spä]ntoyträ wnolmi [= wnolme] aknātsa maiwe ‘the foolish being might believe, "(I am) young"’ [= BHS viśvasen] (2a6), [sp]āntoyträ (139b5); laitki atsi karakna [k_us]e [nesäṃ tne späntoṣä : aiśamñeṣe peretsa ‘thick vines and branches which have trusted in the ax of knowledge’ (554a4/5); [wa]l[o] peṣpīntormeṃ krokśä lkāṣṣäṃ ‘the king, having been trusting, looks at the bee’ (632a3), mahākaruṃṣe waipe peñyacce peṣpiṃtu ‘trusting in the splendid banner of great-pity’ (Pe-1a1). + -- späntālñe ‘± confidence’ (?) (H-149-ADD.27a3 [K]); +
+späntāläññetstse ‘confident’: späntāläññetse korpoträ katkemane ponta wertsyanne ‘confident and rejoicing he ventures in all assemblies’ (K-10b5). +∎AB spänt- reflects PTch *spänt- from PIE *spend- ‘pour out a libation’ [: Hittite sipand- ‘pour a libation, sacrifice,’ Greek spéndō ‘pour a libation,’ (Gortyn) ‘promise,’ [in the middle] ‘consecrate with a libation, conclude an arrangement,’ Latin spondeō ‘promise solemnly, guarantee’ (P:989; MA:351)] (VW, 1941:116, 1976:439). In Tocharian we have a semantic development of the sort *‘pour a libation’ > *‘be guaranteed’ > ‘trust.’ +See also spantai. +

+ + +
+

+spärk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘disappear, perish’; K ‘cause to disappear, destroy, dissolve; put to flight’
+G Ps. III /spärk-/ [MP-, -, spärketär//-, -, spärkentär; MPImpf. -, -, spärkītär//]; Ko. V /spärkā-/ [MPOpt. -, -, spärkoytär//; Ger. sparkālle*]; Pt. Ia /spärkā-/ [-, -, sparka//]; PP /spärko-/; +
+¹K Ko. II /ṣpärk^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, ṣparkeṃ]; +
+²K Ps./Ko. IXb /ṣpärkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [-. -. ṣparkäṣṣäṃ//; Inf. ṣpärkastsi]; Pt. II /ṣpyārkā-/ [MP -, ṣpyarkatai, -//] + madanaphalṣe ṣat twerene tsanapale mot spärketrä ‘a piece of madanaphala [is] to be stuck in the door; the alcohol evaporates’ (M-2a2); [po] cmelaṣṣeṃ serkenne palsko āstre mantanta spärkoytär ñi ‘in the circles of all births may the pure thought never desert me’ (S-7a1), mā-ṣekaṃñe wäntarwats sparkālye āke ‘the inconstancy of things [has as its] end disappearance’ (88a5); Subhāṣitagaveṣi walo olyapotse läklessu ere päst sparkā-ne ‘King S. [was] suffering greatly; his color had completely disappeared’ (99a1); kektseñän stastaukkauwa āmpauwa spärkauw=ere ‘bodies distended, rotted, color gone’ (9b7=10a3), spärkau pilko ‘the thought lost’ (18b3), acār spärkoṣ ‘having lost [all] decency’ (DAM.507a7 [Pinault, 1984a:24]); [k_use] cey onolmi ...ṣparkeṃ ette tmaskenträ ‘these beings ... dissolve below [in hell] and are reborn’ [so Sieg, 1938:32] (K-7b3); lyakäṃ kr[au]pträ : snai-pewaṃ : wi pewaṃ : śtwer pewaṃ : makā-pewaṃ : klepe mällasträ : weṣperke ṣparkäṣṣäṃ: lyakäṃ sompasträ ‘thieves he gathers: the footless, the two-footed, the four-footed, the many-footed; theft is suppressed, he destroys/puts to flight the weṣperke, and he takes the thieves unto himself’ (H-149-Add.8b3 [H:149]), se cūrṇä kewiye wentsa kante ṣpärkaṣṣälle ‘the powder with cow's urine [is] to be dissolved [at a ratio of] 100 [to one]’ (W-2a5); aräñcäṣe etrentsa ṣpyarkatai-ne yoñy[ai] po ‘with the heroes of [thine] heart thou has put to flight the whole caravan’ [so Thomas, 1957:172] (241a3). +‣Though in form a causative, semantically ¹K would seem to be the subjunctive to the Grundverb. + -- spärkālñe ‘disappearance’: [K]aḍikentse cwi spärkālñe ‘the disappearance of this K.’ (44a4), śak wäntarwaṃts spärkālñe kälpāsträ ‘one succeeds in bringing to naught these 10 [external] things’ (K-9a1). +
+ṣparkäṣṣälñe ‘dissolution’: śak krenta yāmorntats ṣparkäṣälñesa ‘through the dissolution of the ten good deeds’ (K-8a5). +∎AB spärk- reflects PTch *spärk- from PIE *spergh- ‘move quickly’ [: Greek spérkhomai ‘hasten, be in haste,’ Sanskrit spṛgháyati ‘be eager for, desire,’ Old English springan ‘spring’ (P:998; MA:285)] (VW:439). For the semantic development we have something on the order of *‘move away (tr.)/push away’ > ‘make disappear, destroy.’ VW cogently adduces the parallel of German vergehen. +See also ṣparkäṣṣukki. +

+ + +
+

+spe +(adv.) +‘near by’
+pudñäkt[e mäskīträ Śrā]vastī spe sānkämpa ‘the Buddha found himself near Ś. with the community’ (5a2), /// saryat=ompä poyśintse asāṃ spe kenne witskaṃ ‘he planted there by the Buddha's seat in the ground roots’ (388a2). +∎From PIE *(s)h₄upo ‘under, below’ (Pisani, 1942- 43:29; see also K. T. Schmidt, 1980:409, and Normier, 1980:262). One might compare most closely Latin sub ‘under,’ suppus ‘(head) downwards,’ Armenian hup ‘near’ (MA:612). See the discussion in Watkins, 1973a. VW (440) is wrong to reject this connection. +See also ysape, ysapar. +

+ + +
+

+spek +(adv.) +‘moreover; even (?)’
+/// spek rano ñäkcyenne yśelmenne /// [spek rano = BHS api ‘moreover; even’] (H-149- ADD.105b3 [Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32]). +∎Morphologically at least from spe + -k, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+spertte +(nm.) +‘± function, behavior’ (?)
+[spertte, -, -//-, -, spertteṃ] +/// spertte tākoy (75b4), /// śwer sperttentsa pratītyasamutpāt ste [= BHS bhavānga- ‘member of existence’] (H-149-ADD.46a3 [Thomas, 1983:233]). +∎Comparing this word with TchA spārtw-, B spārtt- ‘turn, conduct oneself’ and, more particularly, with A spartu ‘lock, curled hair,’ shows that we should expect *spertwe. The combination -tw-, normally preserved before -e-, has become -tt- on the analogy of the related verb (where the development -tw- > -tt- was phonologically regular). The noun reflects a possible PIE *spor-two- from *sper- ‘twist, wind’ [: especially Greek speîra ‘spiral,’ Old Lithuanian spartas ‘band’ (P:991-992)] (Pedersen, 1941:163, fn. 1, VW, 1941:115, 1976:438, though differing in details). From the PTch noun *spertwe was built the denominative *spertw-ā-, reflected in A spārtw- and B spārtt-. +See also spārtt-. +

+ + +
+

+spelkke ~ speltke +(nm.) +‘zeal’ [spelke yām- ‘show zeal’]
+[spel(t)ke, - spel(t)ke//] +wnolmi [tan]e snai spelke mā mrauskalñ=ersenträ ‘the beings here [are] without zeal, they do not evoke renunciation [of the world]’ (3a6), [spelke] yāmi = BHS parākramet (13a3), spelke ṣamāññ[e] ‘zeal for the monastic life’ (31b3=32a5), aiśaumye spelkke yāmi = BHS mandaṃ dhīraḥ parākramet (305a2), kautsiśco speltke yamaṣäṃsu no cwi speltkesa srukalyñe yaṃnmaṃ‘he shows zeal to kill but by his zeal he enters death’ (333a4/5), /// skeye spelke yamalle ṣai ‘he was showing effort and zeal’ (575b6), spelkke yamaṣṣare ‘they showed zeal’ (581a3), spelkesa = BHS utthānena (U-6b4). + -- spelkkessu ~ speltkessu ‘zealous’: ṣañ śl=ālyenkäts kartse[ne] spelkkessuṣek sū wināṣle ‘he who is zealous for his own good and [that] of others, always [is] he to be honored’ (30b5), ompalskoññeś spelkkessoñc ‘[those] zealous for meditation’ (PK-AS-16.2b1 [Pinault, 1989:155]), tarya witskaṃ nautässiśṣek spelkessu ‘zealous to root out the three roots’ (S-6b5). +∎Probably with Winter (1971:219) we should take PTch *speltke (cf. A spaltäk) as reflecting an Iranian (though not necessarily "Bactrian") *sparδaka- (cf. Avestan spərədā- ‘zeal’), though one might rather have expected *speltek(e). Not with VW (437) from *speltkte and related to OHG felga ‘fellow,’ etc. TchA spālkk- and B spālkk- are denominatives built from this root. +See also spālk-. +

+ + +
+

+spaitu +(n.) +‘± dust, pollen’
+[spaitu, -, spaitu//] +/// [ā]sta spaitu ramt ‘bones like dust’ (22b8), spaitu ra waltsaṃ ñy āsta lykaśke po wnolmi ‘all beings grind my bones fine like dust’ (220b4), sumā spaitu kot ypantse traksiṃmitäṣṣe warsaṣpärkaṣṣälle ‘sumanas-pollen [with an] equal [amount of] barley awns [is] to be dissolved in honey water’ (W-22b2). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (435) who takes this word to be related to Sanskrit sphāyate ‘gets fat, puffs up.’ +

+ + +
+

+sprāne +(n.[dual]) +‘flanks’ (?)
+[sprāne, -, -] +ṣlyaṣṣi snai rūki sprāne ‘flanks firm and without leanness’ (74a5). +‣I take this phrase to be a Tocharian equivalent of the eighteenth lakṣana, namely citāntarāṃsa ‘with well-filled in space between the shoulders’ or (in the Chinese version) ‘below the armpits well-filled.’ +∎Possibly from PIE *spṛh₁-o-on] ‘heel’ [: Old English spure (f.) ‘heel,’ spora (m.) ‘spur,’ OHG sporo ‘spur’ (likewise < *spṛh₁-o-on-), Old Norse spor, Old English spor, OHG spor ‘footprint,’ Greek sphurón ‘ankle’ (all < *spṛh₁-ó- though the Greek reflex shows some phonological disturbance), cf. Old Irish seir, Welsh ffêr ‘ankle’ (< *sperets) ‘heel,’ all derivatives of a widespread *sper(h₁)- ‘± kick’ (P:992-993; MA:265)]. The semantic development in Tocharian would be on the order of *‘heel’ > *‘hip’ (cf. the semantic development of Latin perna ‘ham, haunch’ when compared to German Fersen, etc.) > *‘hollow above the hip’ > ‘flank’ (cf. the development of Sanskrit and later Indic kakṣa-). For a discussion of both meaning and etymology, see Adams (1983a). Hilmarsson (1989a:75-77) accepts the etymological connection but suggests a translation ‘ankles.’ +

+ + +
+

+sprīk +(n.) +‘Trigonella corniculata Linn.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[sprīk, -, -//] +∎From BHS spṛkkā- (Filliozat). +

+ + +
+

+spharir +(n.) +‘crystal’
+(571a1). + -- spharir-yok* ‘crystalline’: /// -yokänta spharir-yokä/// (565b4). +∎From BHS sphaṭi-. +See also svarir. +

+ + +
+

+smaññe* +(n.) +‘broth’
+[-, -, smaññe//] +śwātsi smaṃñe /// ‘to eat broth’ (335a5), tane klu pete ~ tane smaññe pete ‘give here rice; give here broth’ (H-149.X.5b6 [Couvreur, 1954b: 44]). +∎Possibly with VW (446) from PIE *sumo- (and related to the *soumo- seen in Sanskrit soma-) + Tocharian -ññe. +See also su-. +

+ + +
+

+smāṃ* +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘repetition’ [smāṃ yām- ‘repeat’]
+[-, -, smāṃ//] +ce_u smāṃ yāmtsintse pelkiñ yaltse tināränta ytārine ṣallāre ‘in order to make a repetition, they threw a thousand denarii on the road’ (H-149-ADD.12a5 [Thomas, 1954:757]), po yolainäts smāntsa ñiś kwīpe tākoy ‘by the repetition of every evil may I have shame’ (TEB-63-02), /// smāṃ yāmoṣ ātstse lutaṣṣeñca ‘a repetition of ... having been made, it [is] destroying thickness [of wits]’ (W-22b2). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW (432) suggests a cognate in Sanskrit samāna- ‘same, similar, uniform.’ It would be more likely to see the Tocharian word a borrowing from BHS, though the lack of the first vowel of the putative BHS model in Tocharian is surprising. +

+ + +
+

+smāś +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[smāś, -, -//] +(W-33a2). +

+ + +
+

+smi- +(vi.) +‘smile’
+Ps I /smi-/ [MPPart. smimane; Ger. smille] +smimane walo weṣṣäṃ ‘smiling, the king speaks’ (100b1). + -- smīlñe ‘smile’: tumeṃ walo wawākaṣ eresa śle smīlñe ‘then the king, [his] form expansive, with a smile’ (AMB-b6). +∎AB smi- reflects PTch *smi- from PIE *smei- ‘smile’ [: Sanskrit smáyate ‘smiles,’ Latvian smeju ‘laugh,’ OCS smějǫ ‘id.,’ English smile (P:967; MA:345)] (Schulze, 1927, VW:432). +

+ + +
+

+smṛtivārg- +(n.) +‘awareness-chapter’
+ce paiykalñesa smṛtivārg-akālk kñītär-ñ ‘by this writing of the awareness-chapter may my wish be fulfilled’ (S-4b4). +∎From BHS smṛtivarga-. +

+ + +
+

+smṛtyutpasthāṃ* +(nnt.) +‘application of awareness or memory’
+[//-, -, smṛtyutpasthāṃnta] +(192a1). +∎From BHS smṛtyupasthāna-. +

+ + +
+

+smur +(n.) +a medical ingredient
+[smur, -, -//]. +

+ + +
+

+syā- +(vi.) +‘sweat’
+ -- syālñe ‘sweat(ing)’: syālñe = BHS veda- (Y-3a1); +
+syālle-were ‘sweat-smell’: [a list of ingredients] syālle-were nakṣäṃ ‘it destroys sweat-smell’ (W-5b2). +∎Syā- is actually a subjunctive stem; given the derived noun syelme, it is possible that the present is (Class II) *sy^'ä/_e- or (Class III) *sye- (so Hilmarsson, 1991:129). In any case, it represents PIE *swidye/o- [: Sanskrit svídyati ‘sweats,’ OHG swizzit ‘id.,’ also Sanskrit svédate ‘sweats,’ svéda- (m.), Avestan xvaēda- (m.), Armenian kirtn, Greek eîdos (nt.) (< *sweide/os-), hidrōs (< *swidrōs-), Albanian dirsë (< *swidrVtyeh_a-), Latin sūdor (< *swoidōs-), Welsh chwys (< *swidso-), Old English swāt (< *swoido-), Latvian sviêdri (pl.), all ‘sweat,’ etc. (P:1043; MA:560)] (VW:448). The phonological development in Tocharian would have been something like the following: *swidy- > *swädy- (with backing of *-i- in the environment of *-w-) > *swäy- (with loss of *-d- before resonants) > *swy- > *sy- (with cluster simplification). +See also syelme*. +

+ + +
+

+syelme* +(n.) +‘sweat’
+[-, -, syelme//] +po kektseñmeṃ läkleñ syelme [pletksa su no] ‘out of suffering from his whole body, [he poured out] sweat’ (85a2/3). +∎From syā-, q.v. (e.g. sy- + -elme). +

+ + +
+

+srakantse* +(adj.) +‘hoarse’ (?)
+[m: -, -, srakañce//] +weksa sr[a]kañce kwoytär-ne taṅsa snai kärsto [lege: kärstau] ‘in a voice hoarse (?) with love he cried out without ceasing’ (85a1). +∎Etymology unknown. For a suggestion, VW (440) who relates this word to German stark ‘strong,’ etc. +

+ + +
+

+sränk- +(vt.) +‘boil’
+Ps. II (?) /sränk^'ä/_e-/ [//-, -, srañciyeṃ] +tā_u onkorñ[ai] srañciyeṃ tappre kauś yey ‘they boiled the porridge; it went up high’ (107a1). +∎Etymology obscure. Perhaps it is related to Greek straggós ‘twisted,’ straggaleúō ‘strangle’ (P:1037 with other cognates). The semantic development would be *‘twist’ > *‘whirl’ > ‘seethe, boil.’ Surely incorrect on phonological grounds is VW's connection (441) with OHG stredan ‘whirl, bubble.’ +

+ + +
+

+srik +‘?’
+srik mrik [the entire inscription] (Dd1). +

+ + +
+

+sreppe +(adv.) +‘unconcernedly’ (?)
+/// sreppe cai ṣameṃ ‘these sit unconcernedly’ [?] (64a2). +∎Related to TchA srepe ‘id.’ by borrowing (probably B > A). Further etymology unknown. For a suggestion, see VW (441). +

+ + +
+

+sruk- +(vi.) +‘die’
+Ps. III /sruke-// [MP -, -, sruketär//-, -, srukentär; MPImpf. //-, -, srukyentär; MPPart. srukemane; Ger. srukelle]; Ko. V /srāukā- ~ srukā-/ [sraukau, -, sraukaṃ//; Opt. -, -, srūkoy//-, -, srukoyentär; Ger. srukalle]; Pt. Ia /srukā-/ [-, -, sruka//srukām, srukās, srukāre]; PP /sruko-/ +/// ywārc srukenträ tetemoṣ kā /// ‘they die in the middle, scarcely born’ (1a7=2a1), ket ait yoktsi sāṃtk=onwaññe pelaiykneṣṣe lyaitkeṃ teki mantanta ṣäp srukentär cai ‘to whomever you will give to drink the immortal medicine of the law, they will put away illness and never die’ (212b3/4), cmetär ka ksa kr_ui nemcek postäṃ sruketrä (285a2/3), auloñ cpī sätk[e]ntär-ne lyitkwänmā srukemāne (139a3); sraukaṃ ṣ temeñce prere ramtä kekarṣṣu nraine tänmasträ ‘and [if] he dies he will [as quickly] as a shot arrow be consequently [re]born in hell’ (14b4), sū temeñ sraukaṃ nraine tänmastär ‘[if] he dies he will be consequently [re]born in hell’ (17a8), k_use tne cmīträ mā srūko[y] ‘whoever may be born will die’ (46b2); sw [a]śrāddhe sruka=ntweṃ nrain=empelye temtsate ‘the unbeliever died; he was thereupon [re]born in a horrible hell’ (4a6), srukās entwe āṃtpi piś-känte cmelane kauṣträ ālyauce ‘you both died; in 500 births you kill each other’ (42a3), e[nte we]s mā srukām ‘if we didn't die’ (45a6); srukoṣ [= BHS mṛta-] (5a1), [osta]ṣmeñcantse śana ṣai tswaiññe ka sruk[au]sa ‘a house-holder's wife had just died’ (25b6), mäntak srukau mā waskāte ‘just as one dead did not move’ (606a1). + -- srukelle ‘death’: tänmaṣṣälle srukelle ktsaitsñe /// ‘birth, death, and old-age’ (150b1), pontas srukelle kā ñiś ṣeske tañ prāskau (298a1/2); +
+srukalle ‘death’: taiknesa srukalye prek[e] /// ‘thus the time of death’ (119a2), yāmäcci srukalyi nke ṣem ce rano wäntresa lāre mäsketrä (K-12a4); +
+srukalleṣṣe ‘prtng to death’: maṃ[nt] ptesä srukalleṣṣe mādār se pontäṃ nuknaṃ pontäṃntso akalkänta kärstoca [sic] (295b3); +
+srukalñe ‘death’: tary=akṣā-ne pudñäkte teki ktsaitsñe srukalñe ‘the Buddha announced the three: sickness, old-age, and death’ (5a6), srūkalñe = BHS -maraṇa- (156a4), srukālyñentse = BHS mṛtyor (251b4), srūkalñentse āke[ne] = BHS maraṇānte na śocati (299a2), kartse kekmu srūkalñe ārwer nesau ‘death being well come, I am ready’ (372a4), snai akālk srukalñentse koyne ynem ‘without desire we go in the mouth of death’ (576b6); +
+srukalñeṣṣe ‘prtng to death’: mātārä srukalyñeṣṣe koyn kakāyau ‘the M., gaping his mouth of death’ or ‘the death-monster, gaping his mouth’ (282b4), srūkalñeṣṣe ślek ñäkciye ṣpä Mār lānt yūkoym ‘May I fight the divine King Māra, [king of] death as well’ (AMB-a2), srukalñeṣṣe ime onolmen[t]s ‘the death memory of beings’ (K-11a5); +
+srukalñe-āke ‘ending in death’: srukalñe-āke = BHS maraṇānta- (H-149.329b2 [Sieg and Siegling, 1930-32:486]); +
+srukor ‘death’: srukor aiśaumyepi olypo [ri]toyt[a]r [lege: -tär] päst mā kwīpe rmoytär (81a3/4), srukorne ynem ‘we go into death’ (123a6). +∎TchA sruk- ‘kill’ (historically the causative) and B sruk- ‘die’ reflect PIE *streug- and are related to the otherwise isolated Greek streúgomai ‘am exhausted, worn out; suffer distress’ (VW:441), and Old Norse strjúka ‘go away, leave,’ German sich streichen ‘go away’ (Hilmarsson, 1991a:68) (MA:588). +

+ + +
+

+sronkiye* +(n.) +‘?’
+[//-, -, sronkiṃ] +ṣaraiṃ lypakwa sronkiṃ/// (522a6). +

+ + +
+

+srotāpanne +(n.) +‘one who has entered the river leading to nirvana’
+[srotāpanne, -, -//srotāpanni, -, -] +(333b5, 552b6, K-7b1). + -- srotāpannetstse ‘id.’: (524a7). +∎From BHS srotāpanna-. +

+ + +
+

+srotāpattiññe +(adj.) +‘prtng to the entrance into nirvana’
+[m: srotāpattiññe, -, -//] +(109a9, 333b5). +∎An adjective derived from *srotāpatti from BHS srotāpatti- ‘entrance into the river (leading to nirvana).’ +

+ + +
+

+slakkare* +(adj.) +‘darting, quick-moving, tremulous’
+[m: -, -, slakkareṃ//slakkari, -, -] +k_us[e] slakkari kauc āñmo ceṃts nauṣ/// (9b2), [sla]kk[a]r[eṃ = BHS capalaṃ (TX-3a1 [Thomas, 1983:155]). +∎Etymology obscure. The meaning, assured by a Tocharian-Sanskrit bilingual, makes the usual connection (VW, 1941:113, 1976:430-1) of this word, and its TchA counterpart, slākkär, with Greek lagarós ‘hollow, sunken (of an animal's flanks), loose,’ extremely dubious. +

+ + +
+

+slänk- +See sälk-. +

+ + +
+

+släpp- +(vi.) +‘± slip into’ (?)
+PP /släppo-/ +naitwe kärkāllene släppoṣ kuttipaśaṃ wat parra pānnaṃ ‘[if] he reaches for a plough-share (?) [which has] slipped into the mud or for the kuttipaśaṃ’ [= body of the plow?] (331a1). +∎Etymology obscure. If the meaning is correct, it is perhaps to be derived from PIE *sel- ‘jump’ (so VW:431); alternatively, one might compare the West Germanic group represented by English slip (cf. P:663). +See also possibly säl-. +

+ + +
+

+sleme +(nm.) +‘flame’
+[sleme, -, sleme//slemi, -, slemeṃ] +[pitka o]rotsai koṣkai yāmtsi kr_ui tā_u ṣe-sleme tatākausai /// (100a3), rätrona koynuwa kakāyau pwārṣṣeṃ slemeṃmpa ‘opening wide its red mouths with flames of fire’ (576a5), nraiṣṣi slemi pannoṃ ñiś eṃṣky āwiśne ‘the hellish flames may stretch me even unto Apiś’ (TEB-64-06). + -- slemeṣṣe* ‘blazing, flaming’: sleme[ṣṣe] = BHS saṃprajvalita ‘flaming, blazing’ (541a3). +∎TchA slam and B sleme reflect PTch *sleme and are probably from PIE *swolmo- [: Middle Low German swalm ‘thick smoke,’ Latvian svelme ‘vapor’] from *swel- ‘burn, smoulder’ [: Sanskrit svárati ‘illuminates, shines,’ Old English swelan ‘burn, ignite’ (intr.), Lithuanian svìlti ‘scorch (intr.), burn without flame,’ etc. (P:1045; MA:88)]. See VW, 1941:113, 1976:430. Unlike VW, I take the Tocharian words to be directly equatable with MLG swalm. PTch *sleme is from *swleme, by metathesis from *swelme (cf. letse) and simplification of the initial cluster (cf. syā-). +See also sälp-. +

+ + +
+

+slaukatstse +(adj.) +‘?’
+[m: slaukatstse, -, -//] +/// ime taisu tākaṃ-ne ñiś ikäṃ-pikwalaññe mā_uk nesau slaukatstse wat tākaṃ (330b4). +

+ + +
+

+svabhāp +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘peculiarity, nature’
+[svabhāp, -, svabhāp//] +rūpaṣṣe svābhāpsa = BHS rūpagatena (178b2). + -- svabhāpatstse ‘having a [certain] peculiarity’: mäktoynas totsa warñai reki svabhāvatstse ste pañakte käṣṣitse pelaikne = BHS yāsāṃ tāvad vāk svabhāvaṃ buddhavacanaṃ (199b1), ñem svabhāvatse = BHS nāmasvabhāvas (199b2), reki sva[bh]āvatse = BHS vāksvābhāvaṃ (199b5). +∎From BHS svabhāva-. +

+ + +
+

+Svarṇaphale +(n.) +‘Suvarṇaphala’ (PN of a king)
+[Svarṇaphale, -, -//] +(420b4). +

+ + +
+

+svastik* +(n.) +‘swastika [denoting good luck]’
+[-, -, svastik//] +(107a1). +∎From BHS svastika-. +

+ + +
+

+svāti* +(n.) +‘[constellation/sign] Svāti’
+[-, -, Svāti//] +(M-2a1). +∎From BHS svāti-. +

+ + +
+

+svārirṣṣe +(adj.) +‘crystalline’
+(571a2). +∎Adjective to spharir, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+swak +See su. +

+ + +
+

+swañciye +See swāñco. +

+ + +
+

+swarauññe +See swāre. +

+ + +
+

+Swarnatepe* +(n.) +‘Suvarṇadeva’ (PN of a king of Kuca, reigned AD 624-646)
+[-, Swarnatepi, Swarnatepeṃ//] +(G-Qa1.1, Lévi, 1913:317, LP-2a3). +

+ + +
+

+Swarnabūṣpe* +‘Svarṇapuṣpa’ (PN of a king of Kuca, died AD 624)
+[-, Swarnabūṣpi*, -//] +(417b1, Lévi, 1913:320). +See also Ysāṣṣa Pyāpyo. +

+ + +
+

+swāñco +(nf.) +‘ray [of light], (sun) beam’
+[swāñco (~ swañciye [K-T]), -, swāñcai//-, swañcaiṃts, swañcaiṃ] +mkte [sic] meñe mā rinasträ swañcaiṃ kroścana /// ‘as the moon does not release cold rays’ (52b7), dhyananmaṣṣana swañcaints=enenmeṃ ‘illuminated from within by dhyāna-rays’ (73b3), yaitu yaltse swañcaintsa ‘decorated with a thousand rays’ (74b4), carka kektseñmeṃ swañcaiñ [yakne w]äs[t]o wranta ca[r]k[a tarne]meṃ paryarinta paiynemeṃ ‘he released rays from his body; he released waters from the top of his head, miracles from his feet’ (108b5/6). +∎TchA swāñce and B swāñcai- reflect PTch *swāñcai- which is possibly (with Hilmarsson, 1986a:263-95, in nuce Pisani, 1942-43a:29) related to Proto-Germanic *sunþa- *‘sunny’ > ‘south’ and *sunnō ‘sun’ (cf. P:881-2; MA:556). The two Germanic words would reflect PIE *suh_aṇto- (a derivative of *seh_awel-/suh_an- ‘sun’) and, with "particularizing" -n-, *suh_aṇtōn-/ suh_aṇten-/suh_aṇtn-. The attested paradigm of Germanic *sunnō reflects a conflation of the o-grade and the zero-grade stems (*suh_aṇtn- > *sunþn- > *sunn-). For Hilmarsson, the Tocharian forms represent a generalization of *suh_aṇten-, further derived by the addition of -ai-. However, since we cannot directly equate the Germanic and Tocharian words either morphologically (consider the additional -ai- in Tocharian) or semantically (‘sun’ vs. ‘[sun]beam’), perhaps the Tocharian is actually a gunated derivative of *suh_aṇto-, namely *sweh_aṇt-yeh_a- (with late PTch *-en- added; see Adams, 1988d) which would make the development of PTch *-ā in the root easier to understand. Alternatively we might suppose a vṛddhied derivative of the PIE word for ‘sun’ itself, namely *swēh_an-ik-yeh_a- *‘(something) pertaining to the sun’ > ‘sunbeam.’ For the latter formation one might compare B pauṣke ‘rib’ (< *pēws-ik-o- beside poṣiya ‘side’ (< *pusiyeh_a-). In any case, not with VW (446-7) to a PIE *(s)wenḱ-, comparing Sanskrit vaṃśá- ‘bamboo cane.’ +

+ + +
+

+swār- +(vb.) +G ‘please’; K ‘find pleasure in’
+G Ko. V /swārā-/ (see abstract); +
+K Ps. IXb /swāräsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, swārästär//]; Pt. IV /swāräṣṣā-/ [MP //-, swāräṣṣat, -] +[kos] alāsñe swārä[strä] ostmeṃ ltu ṣek ‘the out-of-house person [sc. the monk] finds pleasure in laziness’ (12b6); swāräṣṣat mā soytsi cämpyāsä ‘you found pleasure [but] you could not be satisfied’ (32b7). + -- swāralyñe (n.) ‘pleasure’: ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankäṃ kwipe-ike ke_uwco kalltärr-ne tu maśne enkastär nuskaṣṣäṃn-ne tune swāralyñe yamastär ‘[if] desire to a monk arises in [his] mind and his shame-place [i.e. penis] stands high; [if] he seizes it in [his] fist and squeezes it and makes pleasure in it’ (334a3-5), yakte swāralñe = BHS alpāsvādān (U-4b2). +∎A denominative verb from swāre, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+swāre +(adj.) +‘sweet’
+[m: swāre, -, swareṃ/] [f: //swarona, -, -] +śa[woṃ]-n=okonta swāreṣṣai [śūke mit ramt śūkene] ‘they ate his fruits--and sweet was the taste like honey’ (3a8), [śka]maiyy=āksaṣṣi krent swareṃpelaikne ‘the ten-powered announced the good, sweet law’ (18b6/7), swareṃmeṃ [swāre = BHS svādatuma]- (24b6), salyitsana swarona śwatsanma yokanmasa pit mändrākka swarona räskarona kaṣāynta [swarona = BHS madhura-] (Y-3b6). + -- swarauññe ‘sweetness’: (163b4). +∎TchA swār and B swāre reflect PTch *swāre from PIE *sweh_adro-, with loss of -d- before a resonant, and the suffix -ro- rather than the more usual -u- [: Sanskrit svādú- ‘sweet,’ Greek hēdús ‘id.,’ Latin suāvis ‘id.,’ etc. (P:1039-49; MA:560)] (Winter, 1962, VW:447). +See also swār-. +

+ + +
+

+swās- +See su-. +

+ + +
+

+swese +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘rain’
+[swese, -, swesi//swesi, -, -] +[swāsṣa]wa swese tsainwaṣṣeṃ ‘I rained a rain of weapons’ (46a2=47a6), mantanta ksa ṣp nāge campi pältak swese swāsästsi ‘and never was any naga able to rain [even] a drop of rain’ (350a3), snai preke yenti tsenkanträ [sic] snai preke suwaṃ ṣpä swesi ‘untimely winds arise and untimely rains rain’ (K-8b2), mäkte ostä pakwāreṃ aipoṣä swese olypotse kauṣäṃ ‘as a house badly covered, the rain harms [it] much’ (A-1b2), śanmäṃ swese kälymīnmeṃ śtwāra toṃ ‘the rain will come from all four directions’ (A-2b6), āyorntaṣṣe swese kentsa swāsäṣṣasta ‘thou didst rain a rain of gifts over the earth’ (AMB-b5). + -- sweseṣṣe ‘prtng to rain’: ñumka-ṣkas traunta sweseṣṣe war ṣkasta-śtwāra tsketsi täryāka-wi lipātsi ‘ninety-six trau rain-water, sixty-four [one is] to boil, thirty-two [is] to remain’ (W-35b3). +∎TchA swase and B swese reflect PTch *swese- (as if) from PIE *suh₃-oso- (cf., for the structure, Sanskrit rajasa- ‘unclean, dusty, dark,’ tamasa- ‘dark-colored, darkness,’ Latin creperum ‘darkness’) (Lane, 1938:31, VW:443, though differing in details). PTch *swese- is the basis for the denominative *swāsā- (early PTch *swesā-) that provides the non-present tenses of su- ‘rain,’ q.v. +See also su-. +

+ + +
+

+haye* +(n.) +‘horse’
+[-, -, haye//] +(511b4). +∎From BHS haya-. +

+ + +
+

+hariṇaplut* +(n.) +a meter of 4 x 12 syllables
+[-, -, hariṇaplut//] +(520b5). +

+ + +
+

+haridāsñe* +(n.) +a meter of 4 x 14 syllables (rhythm 7/7)
+[-, -, haridāsñe//] +(589b7). +

+ + +
+

+haridär +(n.) +‘Curcuma longa Linn.’ [= C. domestica Valeton] (a medical ingredient)
+[haridär, -, -//] +(W-19a5). +∎From BHS haridrā-. +

+ + +
+

+Hariścandre +(n.) +‘Hariścandra’ (PN of a king)
+[Hariścandre, -, -//] +(H-149.298b2 [Thomas, 1986:130]). +

+ + +
+

+hareṇu +(n.) +‘Piper aurantiacum Wall.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[hareṇu, -, -//] +(W-18b4). +∎From BHS hareṇu. +

+ + +
+

+halimak +(n.) +‘jaundice’
+[halimak, -, -//] +(H-149.14a5). +

+ + +
+

+Hastake +(n.) +‘Hastaka’ (PN of a Śākya prince)
+[Hastake, -, Hastakeṃ//] +(19a3). +

+ + +
+

+Hastinyāse +(n.) +‘Hastinyāka’ (NP of a prince)
+[Hastinyāse, -, -//] +(589a5). +

+ + +
+

+Haste* +(n.) +the constellation (= eleventh lunar asterism, perhaps to be equated with the constellation ‘Corvus’) ‘Hasta’ [‘The Hand’]
+[-, -, Haste//] +(M-2a1). +∎From BHS hasta-. +

+ + +
+

+hā +(interjection) +‘O woe’
+hā larona waipeccenta ṣañ śamñāṣ/// [lege: śamnāṣṣents] [Thomas, 1983: 218] ‘Oh, the lovely possessions of one's own people’ (46b4). +

+ + +
+

+hār* +(n.) +‘pearl’
+[//-, -, haranma] +emprenmaṣṣana haranma śtwāra akṣāsta ‘thou didst announce the four pearls of truth’ (TEB-59-30). +∎From BHS hāra-. +

+ + +
+

+Hitaiṣi +(n.) +‘Hitaiṣin’ (PN of a former Buddha)
+[Hitaiṣi, -, //] +(74b2). +

+ + +
+

+hirant +(n.) +‘castor-oil plant’
+[hirant, -, -//] +hirant = BHS eraṇḍa- (Y-1a4). + -- hiraṇḍaṣṣe ‘prtng to the castor-oil plant’ (Y-1a5). +∎From BHS eraṇḍa-. The same as iraṇḍa, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+hiśt +(interjection) +‘± pfui’
+hiśt t[w]e tākoyt [kts]aitsäññe kärpye-yakne mā klyomo ‘pfui mayest thou be, old-age! [thou art] common-kind, not noble’ (5b8). +

+ + +
+

+Hetubālike +(n.) +‘Hetubalika’ (PN)
+[Hetubālike, -, -//] +(282a6). +

+ + +
+

+hai +(interjection) +śle tremeṃ brāhmaṇe weṣṣäṃ hai ma/// (90b4). +

+ + +
+

+hom +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘oblation’
+[hom, -, -//] +päknāträ enkweṃ klaiṃ wat no ekalmi [lege: ekalymi] yāmtsi morośkaṣṣa pyāpyo pwarne hom yamaṣäle ‘[if] someone intends to make subject a man or woman, a morośk-flower [is] to be put in the fire [as] an oblation’ (M-1b7). +∎From BHS homa-. +

+ + +
+

+hor* +(n.) +‘science of the year’
+[-, -, hor//] +(PK-AS16.3a4 [Pinault, 1989:156]). +∎From BHS horā-. +

+ + +
+

+hrībera +(n.) +‘Pavonia odorata Willd.’ (a medical ingredient)
+[hrībera, -, -//] +(W passim). +∎From BHS hrībera-. +

+ + +
+

+tsa +emphasizing particle +mā ttsa ‘never’ (27b8), rekaunaṣṣeṃ śirenäṃ kr_ui ra yepeṃ swāṣye-ñ tsa ‘if they also really rain [on] me the hard word-swords’ (313b2+S-5b1). +∎Probably related in some fashion to A ats, B attsi, B attsaik but beyond that there are no sure connections (VW:153). +

+ + +
+

+tsak +See ra. +

+ + +
+

+tsakātstse +(adj.) +‘thorny’
+[m. tsakātstse, -, -//] [f. -, -, tsakātstsai] +tsakatsai keṃtsa orkäntai yärtta-ne ‘back and forth over the thorny ground he dragged him’ (88a3), ściron=ātyañ tsakātstse kaumi ṣpä mäskenträ pākri ‘sharp [are] grasses and thornily shoots appear’ (K-8b5). +∎Presumably the derivative of an unattested noun *tsākā- ‘thorn’ which is from ²tsāk- (thus VW, 1979b:139, and Hilmarsson, 1991a: 127). Less probable is Couvreur's hypothesis (1954c:82) of a direct building on the verbal root (as rinatstse). +

+ + +
+

+tsankär +(n.) +‘summit, top’
+[tsankär, -,-//tsänkarwa, -, tsänkarwa] +[Sume]r-ṣlentse tsankär ramt ‘like the summit of mount Sumer’ (74b5), tsänkärwā ṣlents ramt ‘like the peaks of mountains’ (unpub. Berlin frag. [Thomas, 1968:206]). + -- tsänkarwaṣṣe ‘pointed, spiked, crested’: śiñcaccepi ṣlentse tsänk[arwaṣṣe] = BHS himavat-śikhara- (H-ADD.149.79a4 [Couvreur, 1966:178]). +∎From tsänk-¹, q.v. The equivalent of A tsänkär; both from PTch *tsänkär. Both the TchB plural tsänkarwa and the A plural tsänkrunt suggest as PIE suffix *-ru- (VW, 1941:146, 1976:528). +

+ + +
+

+tsatku* +(adj.) +‘erroneous, perverse’
+[f: //-, -, tsatkwaṃ] +nāgi lakaṃ tsakuṃ enkalwa ypauna ā[rseṃ] wranta osonträ ‘if the nagas see the perverse passions and leave the lands, the waters dry up’ (3a1), tsutkuṃ ākṣoṣ pelaikne /// ‘the erroneously announced law’ 249.1). + -- tsätko: koṣko rāśäṃ [sic] tarśītse tsätko tsätkwaṃ enkästrä (255a4); +
+tsätkwaṃ (adj./adv.) ‘mistakenly, erroneously’: po tu tsätkwaṃ ‘all that [is] mistaken’ (8b2); +
+tsätkwantse* ‘± erroneous’ (?): (A-3a4); +
+tsätkwantsñe* ‘error, delusion’: piś pälskontse walantsaṃ tsätkwatsñenta [sic] śtwāra ṣpä [= BHS viparyāsa-] (229b1/2); +
+tsätkwaṃtsñeṣṣe ‘prtng to delusion’: tsätkwaṃtsñeṣṣe surmesa eś-lmau ‘blinded by the cataract of delusion’ (207b2). +∎Etymology unknown. VW (522) suggests a relation-ship with Sanskrit tyaktá- ‘abandoned, repudiated’ which is possible, though not compelling, semantically, but very difficult phonologically. +

+ + +
+

+tsapāñce +(n.) +plant sp., only in the compound tsapāñce-tsänkana ‘tsapāñce-shoots’ [?]
+tsapāñce-tsänkana [in a list of medical ingredients] (W-3b2). +

+ + +
+

+tsamo*¹ +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘growth’
+[-, -, tsamo//tsamonta, -, -] +pit-tsamonta ruwāllona ‘gall-stones [are] to be pulled out’ (W-42a3), ñake sānk tsamo ste ‘now there is enlargement [of] the community’ (TEB-74-02). + -- tsmotstse* (n.) ‘± growing, increasing’: [ś]w[ātsi yokt]s[i] tsmoci pśaiso ye[s] ‘live you [who] are growing [by] eating and drinking!’ (508a1); +
+tsmoññe ‘growth, increase’: mā cey wälke epinkte tsmoññe aiskeṃ läklentäts ‘[but] not for long do they give increase to sufferings’ (255a2). +∎A nominal derivative from tsäm-, q.v. Not by haplology from *tsämämo (Isebaert, 1977[79], Thomas, 1985a). +See also pit-tsamo*. +

+ + +
+

+tsamo² +(adv.) +‘very’
+/// tākoyeṃ pradhāṃ nano tsamo nesalñeṣṣe nesalñe /// (201a1), tsamo yṣuwarsa prekṣäṃ ‘he asks in a very friendly manner’ (492a1), ymāne lykaśkana śikṣapātantats [ts]amo śitkāre (PK-AS-18B-b1/2 [Thomas, 1987a:90-1]). +‣In an unpublished Sanskrit-Tocharian B bilingual it is once the equivalent of BHS prabhūta (K. T. Schmidt, p.c.). +∎From tsäm-, q.v. Presumably the accusative singular of ¹tsamo used adverbially. +

+ + +
+

+tsaräkkañ* +(n.pl.) +‘± weapons’ (?)
+[//-, -, tsaräkkaṃ] +ereṃtsa tsaräk[kaṃ]tsa (566a6), [tsa]räkkaṃ swāmane (566a8), [pwā]rṣṣana tsaräkk[aṃ] (566b1). +‣For the meaning compare 566a8 with the contexts in which tsain is to be found. +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+tsarātre +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘± extract’ (< *‘that which is separated out’ [?])
+[tsarātre, -, -//] +tsarātre [] wär[m]i[ye] tsarāt[r]e ‘extract [and] ant-extract [= formic acid (?)]’ (497b8), wärmiye tsarātre (W-3a5). +∎From tsär-, q.v. Based on the strong form of the subjunctive stem (tsārā/ts(ä)rā-) + an instrumental suffix -tre (cf. also śātre). +

+ + +
+

+tsaṣke* +(n.) +‘elder, senior monk’
+[//-, -, tsaṣkaṃ] += BHS -mahallakā (542a5). +∎Etymology unknown. Probably not with VW (522) the equivalent of Sanskrit tuccha- ‘empty, insignificant, small’ from PIE *tus-sḱo-. Neither the phonological nor the semantic development is particularly compelling. +

+ + +
+

+tsatsāpar +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘poultice, compress’
+[tsatsāpar, -, -//] +lykaśke tsatsāpar yasarsa saitsi ‘a fine poultice [is] to staunch the blood’ (P-2a5). +∎From tsāp-, q.v., as ‘that which is pressed down.’ Partially overlapping semantically with both ṣpel and ṣpakīye. +

+ + +
+

+tsāk-¹ +(vt.) +‘illuminate’
+Pt. III /tsāk(sā)-/ [MP -, -, tsāksate//] +īme tsāksate ñi aṣkār tanktsi yolaiñe ‘memory/consciousness enlightened me to hold back evil’ [?] (238b2). +∎AB tsāk- represent PTch *tsāk-, (as if) from a PIE ō-grade iterative-intensive *d^hōg^wh- from the same root as tsäk- ‘burn’ from *d^heg^wh-. (The palatalization reflected by the ts- of tsāk- reflects that of the underlying tsäk-.) Cf. VW, 1941:145, 1976:522-523, Pedersen, 1944:17, though the details differ. The relationship between tsäk- and tsāk- is probably paralleled by that between yäm- and yām- and näk- and nāk-. +

+ + +
+

+tsāk-² +(vt.) +‘pierce, bite (of a snake)’
+Ps. VI /tsāknā-/ [-, -, tsāknaṃ//; AImpt. -, -, tsaknoy//-, -, tsaknoyeṃ]; Ko. V /tsākā-/ [A -, -, tsākaṃ//]; Pt. Ib /tsākā-/ [A -, -, tsāka//]; PP tsātsākā-/ +///k tsāknaṃ läkle ... warpalyñeṣṣe āntse tsakno/// (154a6); [arṣā]klo auk catä tsākaṃ ‘[if] a snake, viper, or cat bites’ (503a2), te po eṣe päkṣalle lope terwe ke[t] tsākaṃ-ne sātke ‘all this [one is] to cook together; the salve [is] medicine for whom the terwe bites’ (P-2b2); eśne tsatsākau ‘having pierced the eyes’ [?] (40b2). +∎Possibly from PIE *dēnḱneh_a- with dissimilatory loss of the first -n- [: Greek dáknō ‘I bite’ from *dṇk-ne/o- or Sanskrit dáśati ‘he bites’ (P:201 with other, nominal, cognates; MA:68)] (so, with varying details, Krause, 1955:13, Winter, 1962a:18, and van Brock, 1971a:290). The vṛddhi in such a formation is difficult and perhaps we have a cross with an originally deverbative *dēnḱeh_a- ‘thorn’ (see tsakātstse ‘thorny’). Also possible semantically would be a derivation from an s-less variant of *steg^h- ‘sting, stick,’ namely, *tēg^heh_a- [: Old English stingan ‘to sting,’ Russian stegátь ‘to stitch, quilt, whip’ (P:1014-1015)]. Much less probable are VW's suggestion (523) of a connection with ¹tsāk- or ²tsäk- or Anreiter's (1984:156) connection with Sanskrit téjate ‘is sharp; sharpen,’ Greek stízō ‘tattoo, prick’ (< PIE *(s)teig-), assuming a pre-Tocharian *tyōg-. +See also tsakātstse. +

+ + +
+

+tsāp- +(vt.) +‘mash, crush; pierce’
+Ps. VI /tsāpnā-/ [Ger. tsapanalle]; PP /tsātsāpā-/ +madanaphalṣe ṣat twerene tsapanale ... khadiräṣṣe ṣat twerene tsapanale ‘[one is] to stick a piece of madanā-fruit in the door ... [one is] to stick a piece of khadira[wood] in the door’ (M-2a2); läksañana misa lykaśke kekarśwa tsatsāpauwa ampoññaṃtse sātke ‘fish meat finely chopped and crushed [is] a medicine for festering’ (P-1a2). +∎Similar in form and partially overlapping in meaning with the related tsop-, q.v. +See also tsatsāpar. +

+ + +
+

+tsāro +(nf.) +‘monastery, convent’
+[tsāro, -, tsāra//] +/// Kailāso-ṣlentse tsāro ramtno saim yamoṣ ‘[those] having taken refuge like the monastery of Mt. Kailāsa’ (PK-NS-306/305b2 [Couvreur 1966:177]). +∎As ‘the place set apart’ a nominal derivative of tsär-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsārw- +(vi.) +G ‘take heart, take courage,’ K ‘encourage, comfort; calm, console, cheer up’
+G Ko. V /tsārwā-/ [MPOpt. -, -, tsārwoytär//]; +
+K Ps. IXb /tsārwäsk-^'ä/_e-/ [MP tsārwäskemar, -, tsārwästär//; AImpf. -, tsārwäṣṣit, -//]; Ko. IXb (=Ps.) [Inf. tsārwäs(t)si]; Ipv. IV /p(ä)tsārwäṣṣā-/ [MPPl. ptsārwäṣṣat] +tsārwoyträ = BHS āśvaset (U-15a1); /// mācer tsārwästär-me ‘[their] mother encourages them’ (567b4), tsārwäṣṣit-me śauśit-me mrauskäṣṣitar alyenkäṃ (231b2); toṃ ślokanma wertsyaine ākṣa cets palsko tsārwässiś ‘[the Buddha] announced these ślokas to his company [in order] to comfort their spirit[s]’ (30a2), mäkte yam ceṃ lkātsi laklene tsārwästsi ‘I will myself go to see them and console them in [their] pain’ (H-149.19b2 [Thomas, 1954:714]); ptsārwaṣṣat-ne ñi ykene ytārine empelyai ‘comfort him in my place on the terrible road!’ (88b2). + -- tsārwäṣṣälyñe ‘refreshment; consolation, comfort’: tsārwäṣälyñe = BHS āśvāsanam (251b1). +∎TchA tsārw- and B tsārw- reflect PTch *tsārw-. Extra-Tocharian connections are uncertain. Pedersen (1944:19) and Jasanoff (1978:45) take it to be a derivative of PIE *terp- ‘be satisfied’ [: Sanskrit tṛpyati ~ tṛpṇóti ~ tṛmpati ~ tarpati ‘satisfies oneself, is content,’ Greek térpō ‘satisfy, make glad,’ térpomai ‘am satisfied, rejoice,’ þaúrban ‘ought,’ Lithuanian tarpstù ‘prosper, increase,’ Old Prussian enterpo ‘uses’ (P:1077-8; MA:500)]. Also attractive is Pedersen's later suggestion (1951:10) of a relationship with Old Norse djarfr ‘bold, courageous,’ Old English dearf ‘bold,’ New High German derb ‘firm, robust, strong’ which may be (so De Vries, 1977:77-8) a derivative of *d^herb^h- ‘work’ (P:257). In either case we have here an ē-grade eh_a-iterative/intensive such as we see in Latin cēlāre or vēnārī and in B ¹tsāk-. Certainly not with VW (524-525) from *tus- (cf. Sanskrit túṣyati ‘is satisfied, is content’) + -er- ‘to set in motion.’ +

+ + +
+

+tsārwo +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘extreme joy, thrill of delight’
+[tsārwo ~ tsārwa, -, tsārwo ~ tsārwa//] +ciṣe tsārwo sampā[te-ñ] ‘Die Freude an dir nahm er (mir) fort’ [Sieg, Siegling, 1953:308] (496a7), śle tsārwo wrattsai tsänkā-ne ṣarsa eṅsate-ne asānne lyāmate-ne ‘with delight he rose up to him, took him by the hand and sat him on the throne’ (AMB-b3). +∎From tsārw-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsālt- +(vt.) +‘chew’
+Ps. VI /tsāltā-/ [MPPart. tsaltaname] (K); Ko. V /tsāltā-/ [Ger. tsāltalle*] + trāskalye tsāltalye = BHS khādanīya bhojanīya ‘hard food and soft food’ (H-149.X.5b1 [Couvreur, 1954b:46]). + -- tsatsāltarmeṃ: t[ane onolme] ma te tsatsaltarmeṃ naukäṃne ‘then the person, not having chewed it, swallows it’ (407a1/2). +∎Still the best suggestion for an etymology is Pedersen's connection (1944:18) of this word with Middle High German zelte ‘pastry, cake, slice of bread’ (< *delton-). The Tocharian verb would represent in PIE terms *dēlteh_a-, an ē-grade eh_a-iterative/intensive as in ¹tsāk-. To be rejected is VW's derivation *tsälkt- an comparison with Old Irish delg ‘spine, point,’ etc. (523-524) as semantically and phonologically less satisfying. +

+ + +
+

+tsäk- +(vt.) +‘burn up, consume by fire; apply heat to (in cooking), i.e. roast, boil; burn off, evaporate’
+Ps. VIII /tsäks^'ä/_e-/ [A tsaksau, -, tsakṣäṃ//; MP tsäksemar, -, tsakṣtär//-, -, tsäksentär; AImpf. //-, -, tsäkṣīyeṃ; MPImpf. //-, -, tsäkṣīyentär; MPPart. tsäksemane; Ger. tsäkṣalle]; Ko. II /tsäk^'ä/_e-/ [MPOpt. -, -, tsśītär//; Inf. tsaktsi (tr.), tsketsi (intr.); Ger. tskelle, tsäkalle]; Pt. IIIa /tsek(sā)-/ [A //-, -, tsekar; MP tseksamai, -, -//]; PP /tsetseko-/ +kwīpe-onmiṣṣeṃ pwārasa tsaksau ‘I burn up in the fires of shame-remorse’ (TEB-64-10), te pūwar tsakṣäṃ war paräṃ ‘fire burns it up, water carries it [away]’ (33a4), āsta lykaśke kautanoñ-c [] yetse tsäkṣyeñ-c kektseñmeṃ latkanoyeñ-c ‘they break thy bones fine, they burn thy skin, they strip thy flesh from thy body’ (231a5); lakaṃ klyauṣäṃ wat yark=alyekepi | tsakṣtär ysalyṣe pūwarsa ‘if he sees or hears of the honor of another, he burns up with the fire of jealousy’ (33b4/5); onmiṣṣana pwārasa tsäksemane marmanma tronktse stām ra ‘blood vessels burning in the fires of remorse like a hollow tree [burns]’ (TEB-64-05); skrenantse paruwa mlutāṣällona tsäkṣalle ‘the feathers of a dove (?) [are] to be plucked out; [it (= dove) is] to be roasted’ (W-32a3/4); mäkte tärrek eṅwe yesti nāskoy enersänk ṣaläskemane tuk mataryai śolyine päst tsśīträ ‘as the blind man eats food and inadvertently [?] letting it fall into the maternal hearth, it would burn up’ (154b3); ñumka-ṣkas traunta sweseṣṣe war ṣkaska-śtwāra tsketsi täryāka-wi lipātsi ‘ninety-six trau rain-water, sixty-four to be boiled off, thirty-two to remain’ (W-35b3); tsäkalle (W-12a5); snai keś nraintane nemcek tseksamai ‘in hells without number did I certainly burn’ (PK-16.7b6 [Couvreur, 1954:89]); purpar ñake tsetse[koṣ] śiktālyemeṃ war ‘enjoy now the water from the boiled seed’ (369a5). + -- tskalñe* ‘fever’: tsäkalñeṃtse alāṣṣälleṃtse ṣpä sāṃtke ‘a medicine for fever and sickness’ (P-1b1); +
+tskelñe ‘burning’: kälymiṃts tskelñe = BHS diśodāghā ‘glowing of the horizon’ (543a7); +
+tsetsekor ‘± affliction’: [tse]tsekor mäsketrä = BHS vaiklavyārto bhavati (U-17a3). +∎TchA ²tsäk- and B tsäk- reflect PTch *tsäk- from PIE *d^heg^wh- ‘burn’ [: Sanskrit dáhati, Avestan dažaiti ‘he burns,’ Lithuanian degù, OCS žegǫ, Albanian djek ‘I burn’ (P:240-241, with other derivatives; MA:87)] (Meillet and Lévi, 1912:24, VW:526). +See also ¹tsāk- and tskäññ-, and possibly cok. +

+ + +
+

+tsänk-¹ +(vi.) +‘rise, raise oneself up; stand up, arise.’
+Ps. III /tsenke-/ [MP -, -, tsenketär//-, -, tsenkentär; MPImpf. -, -, tsenkītär//-, -, tsenkīyentär; MPPart. tsenkemane]; Ko. V /tsānkā- ~ tsänkā-/ [A //-, -, tsankaṃ; AOpt. -, -, tsankoy//; Inf. tsankatsi; Ger. tsankalle]; Pt. Ia /tsänkā-/ [A -, tsänkāsta, tsanka//]; PP /tsänko-/ +tsenketär spowoträ ‘rises and subsides’ [?] (H-149.81a3 [Hilmarsson, 1991:36]), toṃ ñyatstsenta wikässiś poyśinta tne tsenkeṃtar [sic] ‘to remove these dangers buddhas arise’ (5a6/7), tumeṃ tsenkenträ wolokenträ ‘therefore they abide and stay’ (PK-7-Ka2 [Couvreur, 1954:83]); cwi ra śamaśkeṃntse weṃts weṣye śwātsiśco kāwo tsenkīträ ‘also to this youth arose the desire to eat excrement and filth’ (42b6); sn[ai] parwā lestaimeṃ tsānkaṃ ‘without feathers he will rise from the nest’ (282b1), ṣamānentse yśelmi pälskone tsankaṃ ‘[if] desires should arise in the spirit of a monk’ (334a3/4); śaumo ks=allek [k]omt tsonkaik tsankoy ‘may another person rise daily at dawn’ (19b6); tsänkälyi pañäkti ‘buddhas [which have] arisen’ (552b4); ///ts tsanka śrāvastine pāk=auntsate tu yāmtsi | tsänkā-me weñye ‘... arose and in Śrāvasti they began to participate in it : the report arose among them’ (16b3), śle tsārwo wrattsai tsänkā-ne ṣarsa eṅsate-ne asānne lyāmate-ne ‘with comfort he rose up to him, took him by the hand and sat him on the throne’ (AMB-b3); tsänku [sic] caukne yaipu = BHS adhiṣṭhita-, tsänkausa = BHS samutthitā- (11a8), k_use kauc wan[tr]e t[sä]nkowo mā no nśīt[rä] postäṃ ‘[some]thing that is raised up high must also not later perish’ (45b8). +‣The causative gerund, *[tsä]nkṣalle, usually put here (e.g. by Krause, 1952, or Krause and Thomas, 1964) is to be read [rä]nkṣalle (Thomas, 1987:176-177). + -- tsänkormeṃ; +
+tsankalñe ‘rising’: ṣärmämeṃ tsänkalyñe = BHS pratitya (148a3), se ṣāmāne nauṣ tsankalyñesa postäṃ śinmalyñesa sānk miyiṣṣäṃ pāyti ‘whichever monk shames the community by early rising and late coming, pāyti’ (H-149.X.3b2 [Couvreur, 1954:48]). +∎Etymology uncertain. VW suggests (527-528), as does Jasanoff (1978:44, fn. 32), a derivation from PIE *d^heng^h- ‘reach, grip strongly’ [: Sanskrit daghnóti ‘reaches toward, reaches,’ Old Irish daingen ‘strong,’ Russian djágnutь ‘to grow, push strongly, become strong’ (P:250)]. A semantic development from ‘grow’ to ‘rise’ does not seem too difficult, though by no means assured. Alternatively, one might suggest a connection with tsänk-², q.v., and see in B tsänk-¹ a derivation from PIE *teng^h- ‘pull’ and a semantic derivation ‘pull’ > ‘pull oneself up’ > ‘rise.’ +See tsankär, tsonkaik, tsänkana, ^tsänkwale, and possibly tsänkau. +

+ + +
+

+tsänk-² +(vt.) +‘flay’
+Ko. I /tsänk-/ [Inf. tsanktsi] +yetse tsaṅtsi kektseñmeṃ ysāra ṣissi mrestīwe mā k_ulā-c wärkṣäl ‘to flay the skin from thy body and drain the blood and marrow did not diminish thy energy’ (S-8a3+104a1). +∎TchA tspänk- and B tsänk- reflect PTch *wä-tsänk- ‘tear/pull away’ from PIE *wi-teng^h- [: OCS *tęgnǫti ‘pull,’ Avestan þang- ‘pull’ (P:1067, with other nominal cognates)]. Extremely improbable is VW's suggestion (535-536) of *dū-senk-, with *senk- a nasalized variant of *sek- ‘cut.’ +

+ + +
+

+tsänkana +(n.[f.pl.]) +‘shoots [of plants]’ (?)
+[//tsänkana, -, -] +tsapāñce-tsänkana (W-3b2), tsänkantä pyāpyo (W-5a6). +∎Sieg (1954:72) suggests ‘Triebe’ as a translation. Certainly we have a plant part and Sieg's etymological connection with ¹tsänk- ‘rise’ seems reasonable. +

+ + +
+

+tsänkau +(n.) +only attested in the apparent compound snai-tsänkau ‘± non-rising’ (?)
+ṣeme-yäkne kä - [k]_us[e snai-tsä]nkau kwarsär [emprentsa] ‘likewise ... whatever vehicle [is] non-rising by truth’ (597a1), /// snai-tsänkau mā ynamoṃ [lege: ynamo?] [i]ke snai ṣotri ‘a place non-rising and non-going, without sign’ (597a4). +∎The imputed meaning is predicated on a derivational relationship with tsänk-¹, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsänkwale +(n.) +a part of a plant
+[tsänkwale, -, -//] +arkantse [= arka-plant] tsänkwale [in a list of medical ingredients] (497b7), kos toṃ po tot taramäṣṣe tsäṅwale ṣeske ‘as many they all [are] so many dharama [Fagonia arabica] tsänkwale alone’ (W-2a5). +∎From ¹tsänk- ? +

+ + +
+

+tsäm- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘grow [in size or number];’ K ‘cause to grow, promote’
+G Ps III /tsäme-/ [MP //-, -, tsmentär; MPPart. tsmemane]; Ko. V /tsāmā- ~ tsämā-/ [A -, tsāmat, -//; MP //-, -, tsmāntär; AOpt. -, -, tsamoy//; MPOpt. -, -, tsmoytär//-, -, tsmoyentär]; Pt. Ia /tsämā-/ A -, -, tsama//]; PP /tsämo-/; +
+K Ps. VIII /tsäms^'ä/_e-/ A -, tsamṣt, tsamṣäṃ//-, -, tsamseṃ; APart. tsämṣeñca*; Ger. tsämṣalle*]; Ko. I /tsäm-/ [Inf. tsamtsi]; Pt. IIIb /tsem(sā)-/ [A -, -, tsemtsa//]; PP /tsetsamu/ (K-T). +tesa mā upadrap tsmetär śale lakle ṣamäṃ ‘by this the supervenient disease does not grow, likewise the pain subsides’ (P-1a4), sañi tsmentär artsa [k]auṃ ‘these enemies grow each day [in number]’ (31b8); aukat [t]sāmat ‘thou wilt increase and grow’ (516b4); kos no cwi palskone tsmāntär krentauna ‘as long, however, as the virtues in his mind grow’ (64a8); ṣañ läklenta warpatsi waśīr klautoy-ñ arañce tsmoytär-ñ nete ‘may my heart turn into diamond to endure my own sufferings; may my strength grow’ (S-8b1), kos kos tsāmträ [sic] yāmornta bodhisatve wakīceṃ täryā-yäkne ‘so often as a bodhisatva furthers the three-fold distinguished deeds’ (Paris fragm. 1086a1 [Couvreur, 1954:86]); yātka-me walo lyutsi po ypoymeṃ wīka tarkär śakkeññeṃ tso tsama yarke poyśintse ‘the king ordered them [scil. tirthas] out of the country; the cloud over the śākya-sons disappeared and honor for the Buddha grew’ (16b6=18a2); ente pañäkti śaiṣṣene mā tsämoṣ tākaṃ ‘when the buddhas are not [yet] grown in the world’ (PK-AS-16.2b2 [Pinault, 1989:155]); [nāki] welyñe ṣpäk tsamṣäṃ ‘and he promotes the speaking of blame’ (19b1), kātkeṃ plontonträ ṣpäkka maiyya tsamsen-ne ‘they rejoice and make glad and increase in strength’ (K-2b6); śalna erseṃ yolone tsämṣeñcañ ke/// (522a7); toy saṃtkenta tanākkaisa tsamṣallona ‘these medicines on the spot/place [are] to increase’ (Y-1a2); wace ślok weña pudñäkte krentäṃ lkāṣṣi erkatte cets yarke tsamtsiśco ‘the second śloka the Buddha spoke--he saw the good people unfriendly [to one another]--to promote honor among them’ (31a5/6); tn[e] tsemtsa śasaṃṣṣe [lege: -ṣṣai] peñyai/// (428b4). + -- tsmālñe ‘growth’ (537b4). +∎TchA tsäm- and B tsäm- reflect PTch *tsäm- from PIE *dem(h_a)- ‘build’ (i.e. ‘build oneself up’ > ‘grow, increase’) [: Greek démō ‘I build,’ Gothic gatiman ‘be suitable’ (P:198-199, with other nominal cognates, particularly those derived from a PIE *dōm, gen. déms, ‘house’; MA:87)] (Pedersen, 1944:21, fn. 1, Winter, 1962a:26-7, Jasanoff, 1978:44). To this etymon also belongs TchA tsmār ‘root.’ Surely impossible is VW's suggestion (526-527) of *tū- (*tewh_x- ‘strong, strength’) + *sem- ‘unite’ or Anreiter's related suggestion (1984:158-159) of *tw- (weak form of *teu(h_x)-) + an élargissement *-em-. +See also tsamo¹ and tsamo². +

+ + +
+

+tsär- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be separated, be apart;’ K ‘separate (entirely)’
+G Ps. III /tsäre-/ [MP tsremar, tsretar, tsretär//; Ger. tsrelle]; Ko. V /*tsārā- ~ tsärā-/ [Ger. tsrālle]; Pt. I /tsärā-/ [A tsrāwa (K-T), -, -//]; PP /tsäro-/ (K-T); +
+K Ps. IXb /tsäräsk^'ä/_e-/ [MP -, -, tsarästär//]; Pt. II /tsyārā-/ [A -, tsyārasta, tsyāra//]; PP /tsetsäro-/. +ñke tsremar lareṃ s_äswaśkaṃmeṃ ‘now I am apart from my dear children’ (46a4), /// ātmapāvabhetsa tsetstsarormeṃ māka klautkentsa [ts]retär ‘having been separated by the ātmapāvabheta, I am apart for many cycles’ (181a3); lar[e]nmeṃ tsrelle wä[rpalñe] la[kle] ‘being separated from one's dear ones is the suffering misfortune’ (155b2); [ṣu]k pakenta tarne mā tsrālle ṣey ‘the skull had not been separated in seven parts’ [?] (405a5); ñu ñu pakenta tsarästär ‘it is separated [into] parts of nine each’ [?] (591a3); wāya ci lauke tsyāra ñiś ‘he has led thee off and put me apart’ (496a6). + -- tsror* ‘separation’ (equiv. of A tsrorā): ñiśmeṃ tsrorsa larepi soṃ śke[ntse] ‘because of separation from me of my dear son’ (86b4); +
+tsrelñe ‘separation’: tsrelñe-āke = BHS viprayogantā ‘limit of disjunction’ (4a1), lareṃnmeṃ tsre ñ[e]s[a] ‘by the separation from one's dear ones’ (83a1); +
+tsrelñeṣṣe ‘prtng to separation’ (295a2); +
+tsrelleṣṣe ‘id.’ (295a10); +
+tsrālñe ‘separation’: tsrālñe wentsintse ṣarmtsa ‘because of the expression of a separation’ (200b2). +∎TchA tsär- and B tsär- reflect PTch *tsär- from PIE *der- ‘split, flay, tear’ [: Sanskrit dar- ‘burst (tr.), split,’ Armenian teṙem ‘flay,’ Greek dérō ‘I skin, flay, separate,’ Old English teran ‘tear,’ Lithuanian derù ‘I separate,’ etc. (P:206-208; MA:567)] (Poucha, 1930:325, Schneider, 1941b:174, Krause, 1943:31, Pedersen, 1944:19). Impossible is VW's reconstruction (528-529) of *tus- (cf. Avestan taošayeiti ‘los machen, loslassen, fallen lassen in’) + *er- ‘move’ and unlikely is Anreiter's (1984:167) of *dis- + ser- since one would not expect both *wi- (cf. ²tsänk- and tsuk-) and *dis- as "prefixes of separation" in the same language. +See also tsarātre, tsrerme, tsrorye, tsarśka, and tsāro. +

+ + +
+

+tsärk- +(vt.) +G and K ‘heat, burn; torture’
+G Ps. VI /tsärknā-/ [A -, -, tsärkanaṃ//; AImpf. //-, -, tsärkanoyeṃ]; Ko. I /tsärk-/ [Ger. tsärkalle]; +
+K Ps. IXb /tsärkäsk^'ä/_e-/ [A -, -, tsärkaṣṣäṃ//-, -, tsärkaskeṃ] (150b3), (168.b); Ko. II /tsärk^'ä/_e-/ (see abstract); PP /tsetsärko-/ +tsarkanoyeñ-c [sic] päkṣiyeñ-c ‘they heated/tortured thee and cooked thee’ (231a5); mā walke kca epiṅte tsä[r]k[a]lyeṃ ka arañciṃ ceṃts ñiś śauwwa (266b1), ṣemeṃts käryāñ pruknānträ räskre māka tsärkalyi ‘the hearts of some [scil. the sick and dying] are bounding and they are very heavily tormented’ (H-149.14a4 [Hilmarsson, p.c.]), kāswo świtär śoṣ tsärkalle ‘leprosy, leucodermia, dehydration [is] destroyed’ (ST-b5); [yamutsiñ] rāmt emalyesa tsetsarkoṣ memyoṣ yokaisa ‘like waterfowl tortured by heat, disturbed by thirst’ (29a6), kreñś [ś]amnā tsrelläññeṣṣe puwarsa [ṣäñ ara]ñcä tsetsärkkoṣ ‘good people singeing their own hearts with the fire of separation’ (295a3/4). + -- tsärśalñe ‘trouble, pain’ (the equiv. of A tsärślune): tsärśalñenta läkleṣṣeṃ ‘the pains of suffering’ (204b2/3), tsärśalñe = BHS pariśrama- ‘fatigue, trouble, pain’ (Y-3a1 . +
+tsärkalñe ‘± burning’: (213b5), (248a1). +∎Etymology unknown. The basic meaning seems to have been ‘heat, burn’ or the like (cf. etsarkle ‘with ardor’) and the meaning ‘torture’ may then be a semantic calque of BHS tap- or the result of a similar, but independent, semantic development. Thus Pedersen's (1944:19) comparison of Latin torquēre, Couvreur's (1947:15) derivation from a PIE *derg^h- [: Dutch tergen ‘to irritate’], or Evangelisti's (1950:136) from *d^hreg^h- [: Sanskrit dhrāghate ‘he torments’] would be weak semantically. VW's suggestion (530) of an old nominal compound *du- (weak grade of *dew(h_a)- ‘burn, cause distress’) + *sṛg- ‘sickness’ is morphologically most unlikely. See etsarkle, etsarkletstse (= BHS ātāpina-). +

+ + +
+

+tsärtsäkwa* +(n.[pl.]) +‘deceptions’ (?)
+[//-, -, tsärtsäkwa] +tumeṃ kälpāsken-ne rsercci śāmna nakanma tsärtsäkwa waṣe wentsi ‘thus the malevolent people got him to speak reproaches, deceptions (?), and to lie’ (282b6). +‣Semantically plausible in this one context would be a meaning ‘deceptions’ and a relationship to tserekwa. +

+ + +
+

+tsälp- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘be free [of], pass away, be taken [from this world]’; K ‘free [from], redeem’
+G Ps. III /tsälpe-/ [MP -, -, tsälpetär//; Ger. tsälpelle]; Ko. V /tsälpā-/ [MP -, -, tsälpātär//; MPOpt. tsälpoymar, -, tsälpoytär//-, -, tsälpoyntär ~ tsälpontär; Inf. tsälpātsi]; Ipv. I /pätsälpā-/ [MPSg. pätsalpar]; Pt. Ia /tsälpā-/ [A tsälpāwa, tsälpāsta, -//-, -, tsälpāre]; PP /tsälpo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /tsälpäsk^'ä/_e-/ [APart. tsalpäṣṣeñca; Ger. tsalpäṣṣälle]; Ko. IXb (= Ps.) [MPOpt. tsälpaṣṣimar, -, -//; Inf. tsalpäs(t)si]; Ipv. IV /(pä)tsälpäṣṣā-/ [MPSg. tsalpäṣṣar]; Pt. II /tsyālpā-/ [MP -, tsyālpatai, tsyālpate//] +cmetär ra nraiyne ramer no pestä tsälpeträ ‘he is [re]born in hell but quickly is emancipated’ (K-3b3); kr_ui [nraimeṃ] entwe tsälpāträ ‘if then he will be redeemed from hell’ (291a4); [trai klenke]ntsa tsälpātsiś ‘to be redeemed from the three vehicles’ (104b5); pätsilpar-ñ läklentameṃ ‘free me from sufferings!’ (283a3); [snai te]lkanma ñiś yolaiññemeṃ tsälpāwa ‘I was freed from evil without sacrifices’ (19b7), tu yparwe ñakti śāmna tsälpāre piś toṃ cmelameṃ ‘gods and men were redeemed from the five birth forms’ (30b8); śanmaumeṃ tsälpoṣo = BHS bandhanān muktam ‘freed from bonds’ (U-18b4), tsälpau = BHS vipramukta (H-149.215b1 [Thomas, 1969:294]); tsälpaṣṣimar śaiṣṣe ce kleśanmaṣṣeṃ sānaṃnmeṃ ‘may we free this world from kleśas and enemies’ (228a1/2); toṃ läklentameṃ ṣañ añm skāyau kr_ui tsalpästsi ‘if I strive to free myself from these sufferings’ (220b2); [ostme]ṃ plyatstsar-me tsälpäṣṣar-me ‘have them come out from the house, redeem them from suffering’ (108a9); pel[ai]kn[eṣṣe] yerkwantai spārtṣlñesa tsyālpāte wnolmeṃ ‘he redeemed beings through the turning of the law wheel’ (30b4/5). + -- tsälpelñe* ‘redemption’ attested only in the derived adjective tsälpeleṣṣe ~ tsälpell(äñ)ñeṣṣe ‘prtng to redemption’: kwarsär ce_u tsälpelläññeṣṣe ‘the vehicle of redemption’ (597a2), [tsä]lpelleṣṣe pelaikne ‘law of redemption’ (390b6); +
+tsälpālñe ‘redemption, freedom [from]’: mā nesäṃ läklentameṃ tsälpālñe ‘there is no redemption from sufferings’ (30a1), [krentäṃ]mp=eṣe śänmälñe pakwāreṃ meṃ tsälpāl[ñ]e [] laṃtuññe īke källālñe ‘the coming together with the good, the freedom from the bad, the achievement of a royal position’ (128a4). +∎Etymology doubtful. Perhaps with Pedersen (1944:18) and Jasanoff (1978:44) there is an equation to be made with Lithuanian telpù ‘I have room/find room’ (if, so see further tälp-) but the semantic side of the equation is difficult. One might also think of a connection with PIE *d^helb^h- ‘dig, excavate’ [: Old English delfan ‘dig, bury’ OHG bitelban ‘bury,’ Serbo-Croatian dúbēm (< *dъlb-) ‘excavate,’ Lithuanian délba ~ dálba (f.) ‘crowbar,’ etc. (P:246)]. The semantic development might be something on the order ‘dig (out)’ > ‘excavate’ > ‘extricate’ > ‘free.’ Certainly not with VW (526) from *dū-selp- ‘sauter hors de’ or Anreiter (1984:166) from *t- (< *ad) + *selp-. +

+ + +
+

+tsik- +(vt.) +‘fashion, shape, build’
+Ps. V /tsikā-/ [Ger. tsikalle]; Ko. V /tsāikā-/ [A -, -, tsaikaṃ//; AOpt. //-, -, tsaikoṃ]; Pt. II /tsāikā-/ [MP -, tsaikātai,-//-, -, tsaikānte]; PP /tsātsāikā-/ +anuratne śāmñe ayāṣe curm yamaṣle entwe soye tsikale ‘in Anurata [is one] to make a powder of human bone, then [one is] to fashion a doll’ (M-2a3); mäkte kos tsaikaṃ lwaksātsaika= ścemaṣṣeṃ bhājanta kautalñ= āke po toṃ ‘as as many times as a potter makes earthen pots, their end is al[ways] destruction’ [= BHS kṛ-] (3a2); ñumka ptanma tsaikatai ‘thou didst build ninety stūpas’ (Qumtura 34-g2 [Pinault, 1993-94:175]), cai watesa kwaṣaiś päst kameṃ ostūwa yärparwa tsaikānte ‘for the second time they came back to the village and built houses and yärparwa’ (PK-AS-16.3a5/6 [Pinault, 1989:156-157]); mant yāmorṣṣe lwaksātsaikantse śaul kektseñ[e t]s[a]tsaikwa wnolmeṃts ‘so [also] the life and body of men formed by the karma-potter’ (3a2/3). +∎TchA tsek- (with full-grade generalized) and B tsik- reflect PTch *tsäik- from PIE *d^heiǵ^h- ‘knead, shape clay’ [: Sanskrit déhmi ‘I anoint, smear, plaster,’ Avestan pairi-daēzayeiti ‘he surrounds with walls,’ Armenian dizanem ‘I pile up,’ Greek thingánō ‘I touch with the hand,’ Latin fingō ‘I shape, form,’ etc. (P:244-245; MA:649)] (Schulze, 1921, VW:530-531). Particularly one might note that the present (attested only in B) tsikā- is the exact equivalent of OCS zьdati, save that the latter has undergone metathesis (as if from PIE *ǵ^heid^h-eh_a- rather than *d^heiǵ^h-eh_a-). +See also -tsaika, tsātsaikar. +

+ + +
+

+tsip- +(vi.) +‘dance’
+Ps. I /tsip-/ [A -, -, tsipäṃ//; MPPart. tsipamane] +///weṣ rättänkäṃ kañmāmāne - rkaune ts[i]päṃ (118a7). +‣The meaning is almost surely correct but based largely on this verb's obvious equivalence with its TchA cognate (tsip-). +∎Etymology dubious. VW's suggestion (533) of an old compound *tus-h₁eiw- with tus- as is seen in Sanskrit tuṣyati ‘he is satisfied, content, rejoices’ and *h₁eiw- as in Sanskrit éva- ‘march’ is neither morphologically nor phonologically satisfying (one would, if anything, expect **tsiw-). More likely is Anreiter's suggestion (1984:160-161) of *twei-P- with the same *twei- seen in Greek seíō ‘I shake, swing’ or Sanskrit tvéṣati ‘he is violently, moved, agitated’ (P:1099, with additional cognates) though no other Indo-European group shows a labial élargissement to this root. +See also tsaipe. +

+ + +
+

+tsirauñe ~ tsiromñe +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘energy’
+[tsirauñe, -, tsirauñe//] +tsirauñ=aiśämñeṣṣe po preśyanne yāmtsi preke ‘[it is] time to make the energy of knowledge in all measures’ (281b4), kälṣamñe tsiromñe ‘patience and energy’ (586a7). + -- tsirauñeṣṣe ‘prtng to energy’: tsirauwñeṣṣe kauṣn āya ompolskoṣṣe mrestīwe pakṣäṃ ysomo ‘he kills the bone of energy and cooks it together with the marrow of meditation’ (S-4b1). +∎Both tsirauñe and its A equivalent, tsraṣṣune (itself immediately a derivative of tsraṣi ‘energetic’), must ultimately be derivatives of a PTch adjective *tsäre ‘strong’ (cf. A tsär). This *tsäre reflects a PIE *d^hero- from *d^her- ‘hold, maintain’ [: Sanskrit dhar- ‘hold, bear, support’ (P:252-254 with many more cognates; MA:270)] (Pedersen, 1941:242-3, VW:533-4 and 536). +

+ + +
+

+tsu- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘cohere, adhere’ (active); ‘adhere, stick, cling, attach oneself’ (middle); K ‘make cohere, add to’
+G Ps. III /ts(u)we-/; Pt. Ia /tsuwā-/ [A -, -, tsuwa//-, -, tswāre]; PP /ts(u)wo-/; +
+K Ps. IXb /tsuwäsk^'ä/_e-/ [Ger. tsuwäṣṣälle]; PP /tsetsuwu-/ +/// [ne]ṣmye nāki krentäṃ śāmnaś mā tu walke tswetär nta ‘evil rumor and blame, [however] such does not stick for long to good men’ (16a1); cenaś [sic] ṣe Śilawande tsuwa ‘to them Śīlavanda adhered’ (431a4), ske[ye]nmeṃ cenaṃts ṣñīke tsūwa aiśamñe ‘from the efforts of those [people] wisdom cohered with certainty’ (PK-AS-16.3b2 [Pinault, 1989:157]), tumeṃ cewśa [lege: cewäś] alyaik tswāre ‘thus to this one others adhered’ (431b1); [dhatu]nma ṣesa tswauwa prutkauwa po klokaśśi ‘the elements [are] stuck together and all pores blocked’ (9a6); se ṣalype päścane sanāpatsi te no śar tsuwäṣälle ‘this oil [is] to be rubbed on the breast; however, the following is to be added’ (W-34a5); ste ñikaṃñce pattāltsa po tsetsuwu (430b1). +∎Etymology unknown. Since the basic sense would seem to be ‘stick to, cling to,’ VW's connection (537), otherwise attractive, with Latin fūnis ‘string, cord, cable’ is semantically implausible. +See tsuwai (and further tswaiññe) and etsuwai. +

+ + +
+

+tsuk- +(vi./vt.) +G ‘suck (out)’; K ‘cause to suck, suckle, make drink’
+G Ps I (?) /tsuk-/ [Ger. tsukälle (?)]; Ko V /tsāukā-/ [Inf. tsaukatsi] (attested in an unpublished Berlin fragment [K. T. Schmidt, 1997:259]); Pt I /tsāukā-/ [A -, -, tsauka//]; +
+K Ps. VIII /tsuks^'ä/_e-/ [A //-, -, tsukseṃ]; Pt. IIIb /tsauk(sā)-/ [A tsaukwa, -, tsauksa//] +Purṇāyä ñem śamaśke tsukäle ṣañ tärkāte (TPa3 [Lévi, 1913:320]), /// [Yu]rpaṣṣe kapär citayä śamaśkeṃtse tsukäle /// (Tpb5) [[>]Both of these passages remain obscure, so there is no certainty that the form has been correctly identified]; /// [tarne ṣuk]t p[a]kenta karstā-c tsaukā-c [yasar s]u /// ‘he cut off thy skull into seven parts; he sucked thy blood’ (250a1); [tsu]kseṃ s_äsūwerśke wī pikla ñiś no tsaukwa cī /// ‘they give the dear little boy to drink but [for] two years I suckled thee’ (415a3); ñäś weñ=erkatte rekaunasa tsoksa-ñ māka ‘he spoke to me and with angry words gave me much to drink’ (23b6/7). +‣For the meaning see K. T. Schmidt, 1997. +∎TchB tsuk- is the semantic and etymological equivalent of TchA tsuk- ‘drink’ (unlike in B, A tsuk- is attested as the non-present, non-causative [there is no causative attested in A]). In TchA we also find the derivative tspok ‘taste’ with a -p- (phonetically a voiceless bilabial continuant in this position?). It suggests that TchA tsuk- is historically *tspuk-, with the *p lost before -u-. The loss was analogically extended throughout the verbal paradigm but did not affect the derived verbal noun *tspeuke (> tspok). TchA *tspuk- bears the same relation to B tsuk- as A tspänk- ‘flay’ does to B tsänk-. Both show the loss of an original prefix in B and its metathesis with the originally initial consonant in A. PTch had then *wätsuk- and *wätsänk- where *wä- is from PIE *wi- ‘away, down’ [: Sanskrit vi- ‘id.’]. PTch *wätsuk- is from PIE *wi-deuk- ‘lead down’ exactly as Proto-Iranian *ni-wāz-aya- ‘lead down’ seen in Ossetic (Iron) nuazɨ, (Digoron) niuazun ‘drink’ (cf. Thordarson, 1968:281). The Tocharian may be a calque on the Iranian form. The connection with *deuk- [: Albanian nduk ‘pluck, pull out the hair’ (also dialectally ‘suck’), Latin dūcō ‘lead, pull,’ Gothic tiuhan ‘id.,’ etc. (P:220-1; MA:471)] goes back to Lane, 1938:27. Otherwise VW (537-8) who takes it to be from *dū-seuK- (for *dū- compare Hittite tūwa ‘far’ and for *seuK- compare Latin sūgare, etc., or Duchesne-Guillemin (1941:176) from *d^heug^h- ‘give a benefit, produce, draw.’ Making the same root equation as Duchesne- Guillemin, Pinault (1990:173-4) would add to this etymon TchA *ātkal ‘± extract’ (attested in the derived adjective ātklumināṃ) which he takes to reflect a PIE *ō-d^heug^h-ol-. +

+ + +
+

+tsuwai +(adv.) +‘± unto, towards, up to’
+tsuwai śman-ne mā kāccaṃ wäntr=enestai tukästrä (127a5), [tsu]wai śa[nmä]strä = BHS upanahyati ‘tie/bind up/together, tie into a bundle’ (308b6), ñiś tsuwai porośicer (370b5). +∎A derivative of tsu-, q.v., presumably in origin the adverbially used accusative singular of a deverbal noun (Hilmarsson, 1991:179, argues for a nominative *tsuwiye). +See also etsuwai and tswaiññe. +

+ + +
+

+tseñe* +(n.) +‘± river, stream, courant’
+[-, -, tseñe//] +Gānkne olyisa tseñe kätkäṣṣar ‘at the Ganges, cross the river by boat’ (296b4). +∎From *tsän- ‘flow,’ attested only in TchA (more s.v. tsnamo) from PIE *d^hen- (P:249; MA:491). Tseñe itself would reflect a PIE *d^hēnen- or *d^hēni- with ē-grade in i-abstracts (Darms, 1978:94ff; cf. Normier, 1980:254). In either case, the old nominative singular has been extended to the accusative singular. +See also tsnamo. +

+ + +
+

+tseṃ* +(adj.) +‘blue’
+[m: -, -, tsenaṃ/] [f:-, -, tseññai//tseññāna, -, -] +tseñān=arkwina meñ-yokäññana /// ‘blue, white, moon-like’ (73a4), [tse]ññai-uppāläṃ ‘blue lotuses’ (81b6), wastsi tsenaṃ rätreṃ ‘clothes, blue and red’ (118a1), [u]ppālntasa tseññana ‘over blue lotuses’ (588a3). + -- tsen-uppālṣṣe* ‘blue-lotus’ (adj.): ts[e]n-uppālṣi piltāṣ ra eśne ‘eyes like blue-lotus leaves’ (575a2). +∎TchB tseṃ is exactly matched by A tseṃ. They reflect PTch *t(ä)sen- [as if] from PIE *d^hus-on- [: Old English dosen ‘dark brown’ (< *d^husno-), dox ‘dark’ (< *d^husko-) or Latin furvus ‘dark, black’ (< *d^huswo-)] (VW:531-532, with differing details). +

+ + +
+

+tsene(-)laṣṣe +(adj.?) +‘?’
+tsene(-)l[aṣ]ṣe anaiśai yai - - - (242a2). +

+ + +
+

+tserekwa +(n.[pl.]) +‘deceptions’
+[//tserekwa, -, tserekwa] +skeyeṃ [saṃsā]rṣṣana tserekwa snai lyiprä [ñäś aiśi]mar ‘may I know the deceptions of the saṃsāra completely’ (229b1), śāyau karttse[ś] śaulu-wärñai snai tserekwa snai nāne ‘I live for the good all life-long without deceptions or nāne’ (496a4). + -- tserekwatstse* ‘prtng to deceptions’: (295a6). +∎From tser-eññ-, q.v. +See also tsärtsäkwa. +

+ + +
+

+tsereññ- +(vt.) +‘trick, deceive, lead astray’
+Ps. XII /tsereññ^ä/_e-/ [MP -, tserntar, tserentär//-, tserentär, -]; Ko. XII (= Ps.) [Inf. tserentsi]; PP /tsetser(ä)ññu-/ +/// puwarne yaptsi mapi tserentar-ñ ‘thou deceivest me into going into the fire’ (100b1), ṣarm okone tserenträ [su t]n[e w]n[o]lm[eṃ] ‘in origin and result it [sc. thirst] tricks people’ (11b2), yes no śakeññi snai keś onolmeṃ tserenträ [one of the Buddha's opponents speaking] ‘you śākya-followers, however, lead astray countless people’ (23b4); [su] palsko ṣañ tsetserñu trikṣäṃ wäntre (282b3). +∎Borrowed from Khotanese jsīr- ‘deceive’ (Bailey, 1979:115-116). Surely not inherited (as by VW:532) from PIE *d^her- ‘hold, maintain’ or related to Sanskrit dhvárati ‘bends, harms, brings to a fall’ (Anreiter, 1984:161). +See tserekwa, possibly tsärtsäkwa. +

+ + +
+

+tserteke or tserneke +(n.) +‘?’
+tsert/nike menākäccepi ṣ[amāne] /// (324a3). +

+ + +
+

+-tsaika +(nm.) +‘shaper’
+[-tsaika, -tsaikantse, -//] +[mäkte] kos tsaikaṃ lwaksātsaika=ścemaṣṣeṃ bhājanta kautalñ=āke po toṃ ‘as many times as a potter makes earthen pots, their end is al[ways] destruction’ [-tsaika = BHS -kāra-] (3a2), mant yāmorṣṣe lwaksā-tsaikantse śaul kektseñe tsatsaikwa wnolmeṃts ‘so [also] the life and body of men formed by the karma-potter’ (3a2/3). +∎From tsik-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsātsaikar* +(n.) +‘form, shape’
+[-, -, tsatsaikar//] +[wināskau]-cä erepāte tsātsaikarnne ‘I honor thee in [thy] shape and form’ (273b1/2). +∎From tsik-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsaiññe* +(nm.) +‘ornament’
+[//-, -, tsaiññeṃ] +yaituṣai sū [krentauna]ṣṣeṃ tsaiññentsa ‘he was decorated with the ornaments of virtues’ (77a6), mañīya pelaikne keklyausemane takarṣkñesa toṃ tsaiñenta omte no päst marsa ‘the servant-girl, hearing the law, there and then forgot completely about those jewels’ (H-149-ADD.12b4 [Stumpf, 1970:30]). +∎Etymology unclear. Semantically attractive is K. T. Schmidt's suggestion (1985:763-4) of an early Iranian *dzay- ‘equip, adorn’ + Tocharian -ññe. The Iranian *dzay- is attested in Avestan zaya- ‘Gerät, Ausrüstungs-gegendstand’ or Khotanese āysän- ‘equip, adorn’ (< *ā-zai-nā-), Persian zēvar. Very unlikely is VW's suggestion (520) of PIE *d^hus- ‘dark color’ + later -aiññe. +

+ + +
+

+tsain +(n.) +‘arrow’
+[tsain, -, -//tsainwa, -, -] +(PK-NS-30a7, -b2, -b5, -b8 (Couvreur, 1964:246). +‣Couvreur (1964:246) suggests a distinction between Buddha's weapon (tsain) and Māra's weapon (āsträ from BHS astra-). + -- tsainwaṣṣe* ‘prtng to arrows’: swāsṣawa swese tsainwaṣṣeṃ ‘I rained a rain of arrows’ (46a2=47a6); +
+tsain-yamäṣeñca ‘arrow-maker’: = BHS iṣukāra- (TX-3-a2 [Thomas, 1974:87]). +∎Possibly from an early Iranian *dzainu- ‘weapon’ [: Avestan zaēna- and Armenian zên (an u-stem)] (K. T. Schmidt, 1985:763). +

+ + +
+

+tsaipe* +(n.) +‘dance’ (?)
+[//-, -, tsaipeṃ] +tsaipeṃ śa[k_use] /// (372b3), śak_use kāñmai tsaipenne (H-149.40a3). +∎From tsip-, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsaipau +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘plaster’ (?)
+[tsaipau, -, -//] +orotstse tsaipau kektseñtsa sanāpalle ‘a great plaster [is] to be rubbed over the body’ (W-41b2). +‣This is Couvreur's reading (1954:82)--he also suggests saipau as a possibility. Filliozat reads kaipau and Sieg (1954:78) aipau. The meaning is that suggested by Krause (1952:226). +∎Etymology unknown. +

+ + +
+

+tso +(n.[m.sg.]) +‘penis’
+[tso, -, -//] +/// tso staukkanatär-me śle yasar kalträ klainats preṃtsa ynāmñ yamasträ 3. mäntak no tso-erkatse sa/// ‘their penis[es] [singular in Tocharian] stiffen and stand with blood; it [i.e. they] is appreciated by women. [end of] 3. so, however, the penite and testiculate ...’ (FS-b5). +‣For a discussion of the meaning, see Winter 1984a:215. +∎VW (1977a:146) suggests that we have here and old participle *d^hus-ont- [: Greek thúō ‘I rage,’ Latin furo ‘id,’ Greek thuáō ‘am in rut’] but the semantics are not compelling. Perhaps from *téw(h_x)on- ‘the swelling,’ the amphikinetic equivalent to Greek sá-thē ‘membrum virile’ (from the weak grade *tw_en- of an old hysterokinetic *t(u)wēn, *tw_en-ós [: Lithuanian tvìnstu ‘swell up (of a river in flood)’]). This explanation for the Greek goes back to Solmsen (apud Frisk) and is accepted by Pokorny (1082-1083) but rejected by Frisk (1970:671) who says only that sáthē and its congeners are "unerklärt." It seems to me that this analysis of TchB tso and Solmsen's analysis of the Greek data are mutually supportive. +

+ + +
+

+tsonkaik +(adv.) +‘in the morning, at daybreak’
+tsonkaik = BHS kālyaṃ (2a4), śaumo ksa=alle[k] komt tsonkaik tsankoy ‘may another person daily get up in the morning’ (19b6). +∎From tsänk-¹, q.v. It is the adverbially used accusative of a verbal noun *tsonko ‘dawn, sunrise’ + the strengthening particle -k(ä). +

+ + +
+

+tsop- +(vt.) +‘strike, jab, poke’
+Ps. I /tsop-/ [A -, -, tsopäṃ//; AImpf. //-, -, tsopyeṃ; Ger. tsopalle] +tumeṃ Durmukhe brāhmaṇe Uttareṃ śamaśkeṃ kärwāṣṣai witskaisa räskare tsopaṃne ‘then the brahman Durmukha jabbed the boy Uttara roughly with the cane root’ (88a1), laursa eñcwaññe tarne räskre tsopyeṃne ‘with an iron peg they struck his skull hard’ (22b5); khadirṣśe [sic] śāmñe=yāṣṣe wat ṣat soyetse pratsākaine tsopalle ‘a piece of khadira[wood] or human bone [is] in the breast of the doll to be stuck’ (M-3b4). +∎Similar in form and partially overlapping in meaning with tsāp- (A tsāw-). Like TchB tsop-, its A equivalent, tsop-, is attested only in the present. AB (and PTch) tsop- represents the old present corresponding to tsāp- (A tsāw-), attested by preterite participles in both languages and by a nā-present in TchB. PTch *tsop- and *tsāpā- reflect PIE *d^hēb^h- and *d^hēb^h-eh_a- respectively from *d^heb^h- ‘harm, shorten’ [: Sanskrit dabhnoti ‘hurts, destroys; deceives,’ Avestan dab- ‘deceive,’ Hittite tepnu- ‘reduce,’ and possibly Greek atémbō ‘I harm, rob, shorten, etc.’ (P:240; MA:258, 528)] (VW:525 for tsāp-, with differences in detail; otherwise (535) for tsop- (< *d^heub^h- [P:263-264]). Phonologically possible but semantically distant is Winter's connection (1962a:28) with Greek déphō ‘soften (by working with the hands), make supple.’ +

+ + +
+

+tsau +(n.?) +‘?’
+ñäkciye tsau nenne [one of a list of medical ingredients] (497b8). +

+ + +
+

+tskäññ- +(vt.) +‘mark, characterize’
+PP /tsets(ä)käñño-/ +cakkarwisa mittarwisa tsetskäññoṣ tañ aline ‘thy [two] palms marked by cakkars and mittars’ (75a2). +∎A -ññ- derivative of tsäk-² ‘burn,’ q.v., with an original or basic meaning ‘brand’ (cf. VW:534). Otherwise Winter (1984b:118), who takes this as a denominative to an unattested *tsak which in turn is related to A *śäk ‘(proper) sequence’ seen in the frozen locative śkaṃ ‘and’ and the frozen perlative śkā ‘indeed.’ *Tsak/śäk would be the (quasi-)equivalents of Latin decus. +See also śka. +

+ + +
+

+tskertkane +(n.[dual]) +‘calves (of the leg)’
+[/tskertkane, -, tskertkane/] +/// Airawantaṃtse onkolmaits [sic] lānte sayi [lege: soyi] ramt śuñc tskertkane aineyentse lwāntse ramt ‘the trunk of the son of king Airāvata of the elephants is like the calves of the black antelope [aiṇeya]’ (74a4), /// [yäl-ñä]ktentse tskertkanempa tasaitär ‘the ... are compared with the calves of the gazelle-king’ [Thomas, 1983:231] (74a5). +∎Etymology unknown. (VW:534 and Anreiter, 1984:168, are both based on a misinterpretation of the meaning.) +

+ + +
+

+tsnamo* +(adj.) +‘flowing’
+[f: -, -, tsnamñai//] +tsnamñaisa päpiyaisa = BHS sravatā pūtinā (6a2+H-ADD.109b6 [Thomas, 1983:150]). +∎A verbal adjective from *tsän- ‘flow’ unattested in TchB but found in A (cf. Ko. tsnāntär, PP tsno). PTch *tsän- reflects PIE *d^hen- ‘run, flow’ [: Sanskrit dhanáyati ‘he runs, sets in movement,’ dhánvati ‘runs, flows,’ Old Persian danuvatiy ‘flows,’ Latin fōns ‘spring’ (P:249, with a few other nominal cognates; MA:491)] (Duchesne-Guillemin, 1941:165, VW, 1941:146, 1976:527). +See also tsnamñe and tseñe. +

+ + +
+

+tsnamñe* +(nnt.) +‘influence (of the outer world)’
+[-, -, tsnamñe//tsnamñenta, -, tsnamñenta] +[snai] tsn[a]mñe = BHS nirāsrava (4b2), nautäṣṣäṃ po tsnamñenta ‘makes disappear all [evil] influences’ (31b1), tsnamñenta = BHS hāsravā (305b3), kleśanmaṣṣi tsnamñenta ‘the inflence of kleśas’ (523b4). + -- tsnamñetstse* ‘prtng to outside influence’: snai-tsnamñecci = BHS nirāsravāḥ [H-149.329 (Sieg, Siegling, 1930-32]). +∎A derived abstract from tsnamo*, q.v. +

+ + +
+

+tsmoññe +See tsamo¹. +

+ + +
+

+Tsyakune +PN?
+Vyeñune wai Tsyakune [cautiously labeled proper names by Pinault, 1987:178] (G-Qm12a1). +

+ + +
+

+tsyānkune (?) +‘?’
+See yānkune. +

+ + +
+

+tsrerme +(nm.) +‘ditch’
+[tsrerme,-, tsrerme//-, -, tsrermeṃ] +[po ke]twi tākaṃ tsrermenne ‘all the jewels will be in the ditch’ (571a2), tsrerme = BHS parikha- (U-18b6). +∎From tsär-, q.v. For the formation one should compare yśelme, wpelme, or onolme, though here we have an assimilation of *r ... l to r ... r. +

+ + +
+

+tsrorye +(n.) +(a) ‘distinction’; (b) ‘cleft’
+[tsrorye, -, -//-, -, tsroriṃ] +(a) [tsro]ryye te nke mā=psāl mā māskwo srūkalñe [ce] ceṃsträ ‘the distinction is this: neither sword nor fortification checks this death’ (45b4); +
+(b) /// ṣalenne māno mäskīträ omp lyauto tsrorye wa[t] ‘on the mountains is found neither opening [nor] cleft’ (404a5). +∎From tsär-, q.v. An extension of tsror by -(i)ye. +

+ + +
+

+tswaññe +‘?’
+tswaññe eru ompalskauñe [sic] mäksu (195a5). +

+ + +
+

+tswaiññe +(adv.) +‘directly, just (now)’
+/// [osta]-ṣmeñcantse śana ṣai tswaiññe ka sruk[au]sa ‘the wife of the householder had just died’ (25b6), tswaiññ[e] ka yku päst kreṃnt ṣamāññemeṃ ṣañ oskai ‘having come directly from good monkhood into his own house’ (44b6), tswai[ññe] tane cärkenta klāsträ ‘he brings directly here the garlands’ (91b4). +∎From tsuwai, q.v., + -ññe with a semantic development from spatial proximity to temporal proximity (VW:538). +

+ + +
+

+ +